#but whatever sails your boat works too lol

[ratzhatz14]

Can you pls draw goldfish, finn is with twisted Glisten or Glisten finds twisted finn

Ignore the fact that I took an entire day to finish this....

Omg and with school tomorrow I bet my posting schedule will drop like the gravitational pull of a black hole

Edit; WAIT I FORGOT THE FUCKING ICHOR ON HIM-

FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU—

The other way around

Also, the og image Incase y'all want jt

[servingrobin]

more one piece pls!! angsty fluff pls 🥹 maybe one where reader almost dies and how the boys were literally having a breakdown (or rage fit, whatever fits their character lol) thank you in advance if you do this one 🥹🫶🏽

Sooo not sure what happened here but it seemed to have turned into a nice angsty watching-you-get hurt drabble for my boys.

I think I might turn this into two parts - with the fluff coming out next?

Zoro, luffy, Sanji

Warnings: blood, injury, angst

ZORO

Everything was going well so far, all things considering. A ship had sailed far too close to the sunny, some idiots thinking they could ransack a pirate ship for some quick berry. They’d planked across and immediately started swinging, no pause for even an offer of obedience (not that they would’ve gotten one).

The three boys had made quick work of the majority of them, but the captain and first mate of the boarding crew proved to be more difficult. The captain was a devil fruit user, appearing and disappearing in puffs of mist around the ship, whilst the first mate was simply ferocious with an axe.

Usopp had already been carted down to Chopper with cuts galore and most of the crew were wearing thin as they pushed the two intruders back. You were with Nami and Sanji, hitting out at the first mate with all you had.

Nami was thrown back by a kick to the stomach and landed in a heap by a wall. Sanji cussed out and surged forward landing a flurry of well timed kicks to the man that sent him reeling back over the edge of the boat.

As he fell the first mate took one last shot and threw his axe with vicious accuracy. You didn’t even know what had happened before you looked down to gleaming metal protruding from your waist.

Blood poured and Sanji screamed out, rushing towards you.

“Y/N-san!”

Zoro glanced over at the sound of your name and froze. All he could see was crimson splashing the floor and your face turning white as you fell to the ground.

He let out a great bellow of rage and turned back to the captain, trusting Sanji and Nami to get you to Chopper whilst he dealt with the threat. Zoro’s blood ran cold and his twitching reflexes stilled to icy rage. He was a predator in that moment.

Without a single glance to the others he took out the rival captain in several quick strikes, aiming before the mist had even settled. The man stumbled to the floor, coughing and groaning as he petted at his mauled chest.

Zoro hoisted himself up and over the side of the ship to the first mate who owned the axe. His death would not be so quick. Zoro took one last glance over at you, breathing but deathly pale, and had to tear his eyes away to focus on the thrashing sea, looking for the fool who had hurt you.

SANJI

The group had separated out to explore the new island, everyone heading out in twos or threes with supply lists in hand and a wedge of berry from Nami. You had decided to join your lover in resupplying the pantry and spent a pleasurable afternoon skating from stall to stall in a quaint little market place. You’d both made several trips back to the Sunny and were now on the final run, just as the sun set overhead.

“What a beautiful evening mon amour, almost as enchanting as yourself.” Sanji breathed into the shell of your ear, nose tracing the outline softly.

You giggled and rolled your eyes, stopping to check off the last of your shopping list. You pecked Sanji on the cheek and skipped away to the last few stalls, your laugh echoing behind you.

Sanji stared after you in pure adoration, following at a sedate pace as he inhaled the last of his cigarette.

The sounds of crowds and heavy footfall entered the market square from the east, and both you and Sanji peered up in interest from your position hunched over some nectarines. Several armed guards were flooding the square, chasing after a few masked men carrying sacks.

“Don’t let them escape!” The guard obviously in charge thundered towards the crowd, and both you and Sanji surged forward on autopilot to help.

The first of the masked men barrelled straight through the pair of you, pushing you apart as the crowd thronged in every direction.

“Everyone out of the way!” The guard shouted again, and within seconds shots were being fired from both sides of the square.

Most of the crowd ducked and made a run for it, the masked men joining whilst firing from the hip. Sanji flung a spinning leg out to the nearest one and knocked him out cold.

As the guards realised the chef was helping, they started to lower their weapons and evacuate the square. Both Sanji and the more senior guards made short work of the men, and soon they were bound and chained.

Sanji peered around for you as the commotion dulled, frowning softly as his eyes darted between casualties. Poor things.

It was then he saw you. Blood pooled in an angelic circle around your prostrate form, arms limp by your side as you used your legs to try and push upwards.

Sanji ran towards you tears already pooling.

“MON COEUR.” His shout barely registered in your fleeting minds eye, pained fog taking over.

Sanji dropped to his knees beside you and lifted you from the ground, his suit jacket coming off in one swoop to staunch the dribble of blood from your chest. He cradled you to his chest and ran for his life, finding Chopper the only thing he could think of in that moment.

He screamed at the sky as your head dipped into unconsciousness, rage and anguish heavy in his chest. You were the light of Sanji’s life, his reason for being and most cherished love. He loved all because he loved you and in that moment he felt burning hatred for anyone that dared to step in his way.

Luckily Chopper was not too far out from the Sunny and was able to fix you up fairly quickly, concerned about the blood loss but the wound was straight through and a lucky shot.

When the guards did their rounds the next morning and found their prisoners beaten black and blue, teeth scattered in all directions and more than a few bones broken, well they couldn’t say they were particularly bothered to investigate.

LUFFY

The naval commander held a gun to your throat, pulling taut on your hair to tilt your head back.

“LET HER GO!” Luffy shouted.

He watched you struggle to escape the commander, nails tearing and breaking on the man’s muscular arm. You cried out as he pulled you up higher by the hair.

“Surrender yourself straw hat and I will let her go.” The man’s voice was steady but his twitching hand betrayed his nerves.

You blink at Luffy in a silent plea to not give in, you would never forgive yourself if you stood in the way of his becoming the king of pirates.

With that in mind you stamped as hard as you could on the commanders foot before kicking up between his legs. As he crumbled you aimed an elbow towards his face before rolling out of his way.

Luffy grinned at your movement but it quickly disappeared when a shot thundered out across the space.

You crumpled where you stood, hand flying to the side of your neck. You fell to the ground in a dusty heap with a weak scream, the commander behind you looking all too pleased with himself.

Luffy let out an anguished scream and charged at the man, sending him flying with pistoning fists. He gave him no time to rise before throwing him again and again, the man a bloody pulp within minutes.

The red rage cleared from Luffy’s vision when the man finally stayed down and he rushed to your side, sobbing for you to hold on.

[charminglyantiquated]

So, I’m seriously looking into getting into tall ship sailing (waiting on follow-up from an interview rn) and I’m wondering for getting into it more long-term -

what do people do after sailing tall ships? Like, it’s a pretty physical job, and I’d assume there’s a point where your joints just can’t keep up with it.

Are there other jobs in the industry that people move to? I’m not really keen on the idea of moving up in the ship’s hierarchy- admin and being someone’s boss both aren’t really my thing. Do people retrain in completely different careers? Go back to whatever they were doing before they started sailing?

Anyway, I know your sample size might not be super large so I’d appreciate anything. Thanks a bunch!

This is hard to answer directly - on the one hand sailing tall ships is such a niche industry that there are limited pathways for straightforward advancement. But on the other hand, it overlaps with such a large number of other industries, and requires such a jack of all trades skillset - tourism, carpentry, history and preservation, hospitality, marine electronics, etc. etc. etc. - that there's a lot of ways forward for what I guess I'd call lateral advancement: moving to another job which uses most of the same skills. So there's no one answer, but if it helps, here's some things my tall ship deckhand friends have ended up doing, after no longer deckhanding tallships:

Get a captain's license and keep sailing. Captains often have it a bit easier physically (balanced out by the mental stress lol), and are paid better. Owning your own boat is optional; plenty of companies hire captains by the season to sail the boat, while the management of the company is dealt with by the actual owners. (This is what I did! I don't have the sail-hauling arms I did as a deckhand, but my knees and bank account are both in better shape).

Bosun, first mate, engineer, some other specialized non-captain crew member, usually involves licensing or other education that's useful down the road if you switch to an adjacent career

Racing yachts

Captain for hire on private vessels

Outward bound guide, other wilderness education programs

Harbor cruises, lobster tour guides, and other motor-powered tourist boats, both as captain and as crew - you have the patter and the safety skills but you don't want to deal with the hassle of sails

Water taxis, ferries and other passenger vessels

Lobstering, fishing, aquaculture, tugboats, other non-tourist waterfront industries

Marine surveyor, marine electrician, other specialized technician

Working in a shipyard - good fit for all the fit-out skills of sanding, painting, varnishing, covering and uncovering the boat

Cruise ship hostess

Train conductor (the passion for the early 1900s carried over well)

Working at a a museum focused on local maritime history

Tour guide for local buses, walking tours, etc

Boatbuilder (IYRS, Wooden Boat School)

Teaching the captain's license courses (nota bene: there were obviously some other steps between deckhand and teacher, notably ten years of being a captain in between. But this is what they settled into when they decided sailing was too physically taxing, so I want to include it).

Carpentry, house painting

Designing and selling custom made van-homes (apart from the technical skills, living on board a ship helps familiarize making use of every square inch of space)

Sailmaker

Of course there's other friends who went on to try something completely new and unrelated - I think because so many of the people who start sailing tall ships are here for something completely new in the first place, that's not an intimidating prospect so much as an exciting one. But many of them did make use of tall ship skills even when moving on from tall ships, so I hope the above list is helpful in giving a broad sense of what can follow!

[teaffrogy]

Hi! I saw you were looking for ideas so I'm going to submit a couple if that's okay! Feel free to ignore if not lol

First idea is for Gale (he needs more attention in this fandom!!) Tav who's kind but completely oblivious when it comes to flirting getting hit on and just not picking up on it, how would Gale react or not react? Would his reaction be different if he saw it from afar, up close, or just heard about it? Can be pre-relationship or during :)

Second idea can be for any or all companions (personally tho I think it'd be interesting for astarion, halsin, and gale) Their reactions (separate) to Tav realizing there's mutual attraction so they take them aside and nervously confess that they're asexual and would understand if they don't want to be partners after knowing this about them and that they wanted to tell them before things got serious.

Sorry for rambling in your inbox but I hope this was atleast somewhat helpful :D

Omg yes both I love sm omggg okay imma work on one first then the other. And I totally agree! Gale deserves more attention! I adore that man sm😭❤️ also so sorry it took me a while I have been taking care of my cat who got surgery

Oblivious Tav

Gale x Reader(Tav)

I honestly believe Gale immediately Knew Tav was super oblivious to people Flirting on them And he first found out About it when Lae'zel made the first move. Instead of falling for her words, you just gave her a puzzled look. “I'm sorry Lae’zel. I don't want to fight with you.”

The second time he saw it was with Astarion at The tiefling party. Of course he put his Vampiric charms on you but it just flew past you. And Astarion had this look on his face that made Gale burst out laughing. Some of the tieflings gave him a puzzled look.

Another interaction was when a tiefling was flirting with you. She rubbed your hand up and down softly that he himself even felt the shivers. She had tried to tell Tav how gorgeous they are and how even better they would look under her. But that left you confused. “Why do you want me to lay down?”

Like always, he found it funny because what you say and the other is the person's reaction. But Gale wouldn't lie, he had fallen in love with you the day he taught you how to cast spells just so you could feel what he feels, the magic of it. It was just the way your eyes shined as you looked around you. The moment you Two had made him realize how much he wanted you in his life, read a book beside you, be on his balcony, have a cup of tea or coffee, whatever you like to drink! And just read a book with you, watch the sunset, see the boats sail away, watch the waves of the sea. And just be with you. He loves you.

After that, he did try to make some moves.

Gale didn't know if he should feel bad or

embarrassed for you.

No matter how many times he tries to flirt, it simply just flies Over your head. You two were in the shadowlands and he took so much time and dedication to say those words to you that it simply flew past you. Astarion couldn't help but let a Laugh. Shadowheart was holding hers in. He knew you were obviously but not that much!

He tried it again, a small pick up line and you just stared at him and gods he loves you but oh my god he also is embarrassed when you simply don't get it. He had to actually say those three words.

“What I am trying to say is that I am in love with you. I love you.” Gale says and your eyes go wide at those words. “And I have been trying to make you get the hints that I am really in love with you but it just flies by you. I was thinking it was the tadpole wiggling those words out but that's just how you are.” He says and you feel embarrassed. “Oh.” You say and Gale holds your hands. “I'm in love with you Tav.” and he brings your hands close to his lips, kisses each one hand and looks up at you. “I love you too Gale.” You say and he's more than happy to hear those Words come out.

And even now that you two are together, it simply flies by you. From times you do get his little pick up lines, but there are those other times where it flies by.

But Gale loves that about Tav and finds it cute.

[depleti]

Happy Birthday! Been reading TMK for a while and really enjoying it, have you ever shared what inspired the story?

I'm not sure I have, actually, if only because it's not very interesting lol.

A long time ago, I used to play on a lot of rpg forums (where you would post your roleplay responses to each other) and back then there were a lot to pick from. I joined one that had an original fantasy setting and one of the cultures was inspired by the Vikings, which prompted me to do a bit of research. That board folded before I even played my character--which was actually a precursor to Coal--but I guess I found the Vikings in particular to be interesting enough to do more with.

More background and very early drawings below the cut!

This question prompted me to go looking for some of my earliest TMK drawings! Here's perhaps the first Coal drawings with a girl who would eventually become Hedda. For some reason she has a vaguely Asian outfit and I'm not sure why. Perhaps even then I was looking to emphasize the international reach of the Viking period.

Here's a page where Hedda starts to look like Hedda:

Now the very early story for TMK is quite different from how it ended up. Coal was always a kind of undead warrior, but how he died and came back has changed. Initially, Coal died defending a village from two demon-creatures (maybe dragons?), and killed one of the two demons. The surviving demon, who was the killed demon's brother, vowed revenge against Coal and intercepted him on his way to Valhalla/Sessrúmnir (Freyja's hall, looks like I never decided which).

This demon, named Fen, was the one who brought Coal back. He could also turn into a ship and control it and turn into a dragon with it (the oars became legs, the sail became wings, etc.). Coal came back with missing memories and had more of a blank personality.

Here's Fen in his demon form and a human form apparently:

For some reason that I never wrote down, various god items were included on this boat. It wasn't just items belonging to the big three (Odin, Thor, and Freyr) but also Freyja and Frigg and Tyr, etc. The idea was Coal needed to find their human counterpart owners in Midgard to do...something. I originally wanted to do nine items, because nine is a magic number, but after discussing with a friend (hi, Hannah!), I quickly realized that was too much work. Fen was scrapped but the idea of the living figurehead lives on in Rollo.

So the number of items changed to three four and Loki became the main cause of everything. I think I avoided using Loki before because I didn't want my version of him to be compared to Marvel's or whatever, but you can't really do a story involving the Norse gods without Loki in there somewhere. So I just bit the bullet and not only used him, but made him a main character. I think he's different enough to stand apart from most other depictions of him.

Here's me trying to figure out how TMK's Loki should look:

I realized early on he shouldn't look too refined, but also not as scruffy as the bottom drawings lol. I think when I realized he's not just "The Trickster" but also a father a lot of things fell into place. Also the feather cloak!

One of the hard things about working on webcomics is how long they take to make, but that can also be a kind of benefit. When I first started TMK I just wanted to make a fun fantasy adventure comic with a bold art style (it's probably no surprise to say Cartoon Saloon's Secret of Kells and subsequent films have been a huge inspiration to me), but as time has gone on and the world has shifted, it's turned into an exploration of toxic masculinity and its effects on the self and the world.

Anyway here's some other older drawings!

One of the first Ibrahims. His design was settled almost immediately.

Arne's design also came together pretty easily. I dunno what that old man at the top is for...

Anyway I hope you've enjoyed this lil jaunt down memory lane. Thank you for your question and birthday wishes and, of course, for reading the comic. <3

[fandom-blackhole]

Sinful Sunday!

AN: Nothing much to put here other than I am sorry I didn't do ships last night like I thought, I ended up babysitting later than I thought I would and I had to finish these two thots up. Other than that enjoy!

Sinful Sunday Masterlist

Pairings: Modern!Boba Fett x College Student!Reader, Merman!Din Djarin x Lighthouse Keeper!Reader

Modern!Boba Fett x Reader

We got another sexy Boba THOT babes, but be warned this does really highlight the older male x younger female relationship, mostly because this one is purely self indulgent. So I guess, warning older Boba and reader in college....

The first you had met Boba is when some average Chad had started annoying you at a popular bar among college students. You had tried everything to get him to leave you alone, to the point of turning your back on him, which was obviously a mistake when you felt his hand slither along your waist and attempt to grope you. But he was stopped short when he was ripped away from you by none other than Boba himself, who immediately shoved him out of the bar, before returning to you to ask if you were alright, and to tell the bartender to put your drinks on his tab, with a secretive chuckle. You didn't know it then, but Boba was the owner of the bar. And you also weren't expecting for that one time thing to turn into you taking him home a year later on spring break to meet your parents. You were nervous at how your parents would react to the age difference, but things had gone over well, and Boba quickly won over both of your parents much to your glee.

But Boba was devious, and you shouldn't have expected more. So when the two of you had down time you found yourself sitting on your bed between his legs leaning against his chest while watching a movie on your laptop, as you parents sat doing the same, just a wall away.

When you felt Boba's hands wandering, you didn't think much of it at first, but then you felt his touches increasingly become more and more sure in their paths and his lips grazing your neck and up to your ear. Giving out a small whine when he brushes over your breast and gave it a squeeze he whispers huskilu in your ear, "Lets test how quiet you can be little one. Let's see if I can make you cum without your parents catching on, hmmm? How does that sound princess?"

Whinpering quietly as Boba presses his hand against you through both you panties and sweat pants, you bucked your hips up giving him the confirmation he wanted. Boba wasted no time at all in diving his hand underneath both you underwear and sweats and going straight for the spot he knows makes you scream with his thick fingers. It took everything in you not to shout at the immediate pleasure he thrust upon you and you could do nothing to cover up the gasp you released when he dug his palm into your clit making your eyes roll back in pleasure.

"Oh little one, you better be quiet or someone is going to realize what I am doing to you," he chuckles as he kisses your neck and just continues with his absolute torturous onslaught of pleasure. Biting your lip you throw your head back onto his shoulder as your orgasm starts approaching you quickly and you whimper out his name softly before biting your lip.

Boba just shoves his spare hand up your shirt and into your bra to play with your breast as he starts to slam his fingers into that spot hard, over and over and over ond over, until you can't tell which way is up and which way is down. You grip his forearm and start bucking your hips up into his hand making your clit rub against his palm even more, and before you know it your orgasm is washing over you as Boba continues to press you through it.

When you finally come down from the height of pleasure Boba thrust you into, you found him lacking his fingers clean with a groan, saying, "Such a good girl for me princess. For being so quiet and good, tonight I will reward you with my cock."

Merman!Din Djarin x Reader

Okay, @moodsworks you did this to me with the perfect and cute Merman!Din drawing you posted because I cant stop thinking about it. (Also im tagging you because I thought you may like to read it 🥺👉👈) oh and I don't know the first thing that comes to lighthouses and upkeep so don't come for me lol....

Living in and working the lighthouse could be lonely at times, but you enjoyed the solitude and privacy that came with living at least 45 minutes from the closest town. Not that the people of said town were in anyway rude to you, infact when you first moved into your job as lighthouse keeper they had welcomed you with open arms and thanked you for filling the position. Many of the women in town had husbands that worked on boats that sailed and fished in the area and when you came to town they always made sure you had everything you needed at a very large discount that you fought everytime, but was secretly thankful for considering your pay wasn't exactly the best and mainly went towards other needs you had for the lighthouse.

You took two monthly trips to town, and both times you would leave early enough that you could go and have a warm breakfast at the small diner just on the edge of town. Every time you walked through the doors you were always met with the largest table in the building-- which honestly only sat 10 to 12 people -- full of the older couples in town having coffee and gossiping about the town. The first morning you had stumbled into the small restaurant at this early time they had invited you to join them and you had kindly accepted. They all had pitched in to pay for your food which you thanked them profusely for, and they chatted with you as you ate. They each took turns being nosey and asking questions about you, but you didn't feel the need to hide so you answered each question honestly. Then, one of the eldest women at the table turned to you and asked, "Have you heard the rumors or tales of that lighthouse, darling?"

When you only shook your head she grinned and continued, "Well, the legend here in town is that the place is haunted by sea creatures of the nefarious kind. They say that those beasts constantly sabotage and wreak havoc constantly on that lighthouse, and that they are the reason no keepers stay at that post for longer than a year."

You had only smiled and shook your head in response with a small chuckle, quickly dismissing the superstitions away. You had already been there a month and nothing odd other than thick fogs had happened.

You had been there three months by the time you started hearing the odd splashes at night, splashes that certainly didn't sound like the waves crashing on rocks. You had dismissed it again thinking it to be the migrating whales that you were told come through this time of year.

It would only be a few weeks later that your next curiosity would happen. This time you were up looking out the windows at the very top of the lighthouse watching as the sun was setting. You had just turned to leave, when out of the corner of your eye you saw a large figure jump from the water. Whipping your head around the creature had already disappeared back into the water. You waited and watched the water for a few minutes, confused  and curious because whatever it had been had been too small for a whale. It was more of the size and shape of a dolphin, though longer than one? When nothing appeared again you shook your head and went down into the lighthouse just assuming the solitude was playing tricks on your mind.

By the time the next oddity started happening you had completely forgotten about the other two, and almost three months had passed. This time it sounded as if rocks were being thrown that the lighthouse at night, and hard. The next morning when you had gone to investigate you had been shocked and angered when you found softball sized rocks scattered around and the red paint chipped and ruined along the side of the lighthouse base. You had marched inside and searched for the paint in order to fix the damage and made plans to go to the town tomorrow and ask about, assuming it was just rebellious teenagers. It took all day to find and paint over the spots, while stopping for water breaks because of the heat that was beating down onto you. When you finally went to bed that night you were satisfied with your handiwork and ready to hit the hay, expecting to be up early in the morning for a trip to town. Only you were woken up later, much later, by the sound of rocks being flung at the lighthouse again. Angered, you checked the time, seeing it was 3 am, before running outside to catch the culprit red handed, only to make short eye contact with what you swore was a human head that had quickly disappeared under the water just as quickly as you had spotted it. In a daze you had walked back into the building trying to wrap your head around what you had seen. The next morning you had gone to town, and just brushed off what you had seen the night before as just a dream. You had gotten up later than you had wanted, so when you made your trip to town you had completely skipped the diner and headed straight to the farmers market that you knew was open on the town square. You had purchased a few items and stuck them in the large bag you carried, and was walking away from a stall when you ran into the elderly woman again. She had smiled and asked to walk with you and you had tiredly agreed. She had completely shocked you when she spoke up as the two of you were at a stall looking through some homemade breads.

"The incidents have started, haven't they? The odd noises and little damages around the place? I can tell by just how tired you look darling." Speechless you had only gaped at her, shocked when she looked up and smiled at you before laughing and saying, "Oh hun, you can't live as long as I have here without picking up a thing or two. And since I like you, I'll give you a small tip, leaving lobster and clams out on the rocks always seem to calm the creature down, but never leave oysters, they do NOT like those," she finished with a chuckle. The two of walked in silence to the next couple of stalls and on the last one, which coincidentally was the fish stall, the woman paid for your items with a mischievous smile when she noticed that your items included several clams and a singular lobster.

That evening you left the lobster on the large flat rock that hung over into the water, before going inside to do your chores before bed. For the first night in a couple of days, you slept completely through the night and woke up fully rested early the next morning. When you had done a survey of the water looking for anything unusual you had noticed the lobster was still there, but it was only the shell which was ripped to pieces.

After that night, you started continuously leave some kind of offering out on the rocks for whatever creature had been troubling you, and it seemed to work whatever creature had been bothering you before had seemed to be sated with your offerings.

This went on for months, and before you knew it the weather was turning colder and the that meant snow storms and more late nights watching for ships. You didn't mind it at first, and honestly it just peaked your curiosity thinking you might catch the culprit you had been leaving offerings for. But as the nights went on you found that whatever it was knew when you were watching and only came for the offerings when you left your post for quick breaks, like going to the bathroom or refilling your mug with your hot drink of the night. 

Then one night you were shocked out of the slight doze you had fallen into by a shout. Panicked you stood when you heard the deep voice again and looked around to see where the sounds was coming from, and that is when you spotted a dark figure out on the flat rock holding something small in his arms. Hurriedly you rushed down the stairs and grabbed your lamp before rushing out to the rock where the figure was shouting. You still look back and wonder how you didn't slip and crack your head with how fast you ran out there, let alone how you ran out there without thinking of the dangers. But in the moment you could only register the helplessness that sounded in the deep voice that kept shouting until you came into sight. You had only taken a second to be taken aback by the man...merman? You couldn't see all of him but from the quick, and confusing, glance you took of him showed his curling wet deep brown hair and eyes and scales shimmering in a steely silver color. But you didn't focus on him long when you notice the small green shape curled in his lap, the small creature clearly injured and it broke your heart when it let out a pained whimper as it lifted its tiny head to look at you. You were broken from the tiny creatures gaze by the man speaking up, "He's injured, can you help?"

You only took a second to take in the way his eyes shined in the lamp light, before you took a step closer you watched the man tense and wrap his arm around the small injured creature defensively, so you cautiously raised a hand and said soothingly, "Please, I do want to help, but I need to get closer to get a better look him..." You waited for the man to relax a little before you took another step forward, and then another and you slowly approached him before kneeling before him and holding your hands out asking, "May I?"

Reluctantly he pulled his arms away and you reached forward. It didn't take long to find the deep gash along his tiny arm. Carefully you looked up at the man, who was staring at you closely watching your every move. Taking a deep breath you looked him in the eye said said, "I can help him, I have first aid training enough to fix injuries like this......." then you trailed off knowing he would not like what you would say next. Then you watched his eyes narrow and study you as he asked, "But?"

Gulping, you sigh and respond, "But I need to take him to the lighthouse where all my supplies are and where it is light enough that I can see what I am doing.... Also for an injury like this, I will need to watch him for at least a week, just to make sure everything heals right."

The man watched you for a few seconds, before slowly saying, "But you can help him?" When you nod in response he carefully hands the small creature to you and as you stand and go to grab your lamp, you turn to him and ask a question, only to find him struggling to pull himself onto the rock completely to, you can only assume, follow you.

"What in the world are you doing?!"

"Where ever I go he goes, and where ever he goes, I go," he grunted out as he strained and pulled his long body to follow you. Sighing in exasperation as well as concern, you blurted out, "Listen, let me go get him situated and stabilized. Then I can come by with my car so you aren't dragging yourself, and most likely injuring yourself." He was hesitant, but he agreed after glancing at the small being in your arms. So after throwing him a quick, I'll be right back, you rushed back to the lighthouse.

Once inside you gently laid the small injured creature softly on the kitchen towels that you had folded earlier and had not put away. Then you ran to grab the large red first aid box from under the bed before returning. Inside you quickly grabbed everything you needed and quickly set to work. You worked quickly and carefully, and it felt like no time before you had the wound sutured back together. Not wanting to leave what you could only assume to be a sleeping, injured infant on the counter you reached over to your sink and filled it with warm water and added sea salt, before carefully lowering the child into the water. Once you confirmed that the young creature was okay and peacefully asleep you ran to your car and drove it as close to the rock as possible, only to find the merman clenching his jaw and dragging himself along the small pathway. When you jumped out of the car you leant down to help him while chastising him.

"I told you to wait, what would you have done if you injured yourself?"

"You took too long."

Hearing the finality in his voice, and also the concern, you let it go and quietly helped pull him into the back of your car.

Once again back at the lighthouse, you told him to wait while you went and got something. When you returned you had a large blanket, which you laid on the ground and told him to lay on, because it you make it easier to pull him inside. Grunting he did as told, and while it took you awhile to pull his weight, once you were on the slick floors of the lighthouse, you were able to get him to the kitchen in no time to show him...his child?

You let them be for a second ad you put the blanket away, but as you watched the man's face calm down after seeing g with his own eyes that the young child was safe and taken care of. When he heard you reenter the kitchen he slumped to the floor and whisper, "Thank you, we had no where else to go, and you have always treated us kindly so you were the only one I could think of to help."

"It was nothing, I am glad I could help. But... what do you mean by kind to you? This is the first time we have met?"

He then looked you in the eye and said, "But you leave us food, even after he wrecked the red flakes on your home."

"Well I feel bad now, because I was only leaving a little food out there. There us no way it is enough for both of you!"

"It has always been enough for Grogu, and that is all I can ask for."

"Wait, are you hungry? I have tones of clams if you are, and from the looks of it, Grogu?" you ask hesitantly only for him to nod, "will be asleep for awhile, if you would like to eat and rest?"

He sits there for a minute before saying, "It has been a long day...."

Smiling, you go to the fridge and pull out a large bowl of clams that you sit next to him before taking a seat across from him on the floor.

" If those aren't enough, I have more in the freezer that I can thaw out for you?"

He shook his head and replied, "This is plenty, thank you."

You sat in silence as he broke open and ate his food for a few minutes before you spoke up again, "Sorry to interrupt your meal, but I know what to call your little one, but do you have a name you would like me to call you?"

You watched his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed, and then he looked you in the eye and said, "My name is Din....but I must ask you to only use it when we are alone."

Nodding you smiled and waited for him to finish eating, but once he got halfway through the bowl your brain finally caught up to the confession he had given earlier.

"Wait a second. Grogu? That small little creature? HE through those stones at my lighthouse?! How?!"

[artinandwritin]

I know I JUST asked you about your ocs, but I've gotta know more so here we are lol

If you have this stuff worked out already, can you tell me about Niv's time growing up as an assassin and Siri and Gustav's adventures as part of the A team???

ALSO do you have any sketches of them ?????

I'm sorry if this is annoying or you don't wanna talk about this rn or whatever I just really enjoyed reading your answer to my last ask and I wanted to know more <3

Omg y e s and I'm ready to tell you more lol

I actually do have both things worked out already so that's a great question to ask! Lemme just pull up my documents and get started :D

I'll devide this in a few parts, so it won't get confusing! Get ready cuz I have the tendencies to overwrite lmao-

Niv's time growing up as an assassin;

Alright *cracks knuckles* let's do this. Niv was, after having been discovered on a little burning ship by a young member of the Myriad Tribe as he was sailing home, was adopted by this same sailor. His name was Bendik Forrad; he was married to a woman named Darcy. They didn't have children yet, but both were content to raise this baby boy to be an assassin.

The Myriad Tribe had many children as many couples took in "lost" kids like Niv, so the boy had many friends to play with. The adults were often given assignments by faceless clients, never getting to know their identity as a way to keep both parties safe. Mainly Bendik, who had a very high ranking as an assassin, was away from home often. His assignments left him mentally scarred; he had seen too much.

After Niv turned two, the couple had a child of their own, Amanda. She got along great with her adoptive brother, never even noticing they weren't biologically related until Bendik told her - after that, Niv's seemingly perfect family seemed to fade.

The boy and his friends started training with weapons and studying histories and fighting techniques from a very early age. While Niv seemed to excel at swordfighting, he fell short in remembering techniques, instead developing his own style entirely. He could remember the history lessons, but he wasn't as interested in that, instead wanting to know more about folklore and myths about Dragons.

Bendik wasn't into that; he began scolding poor Niv, more and more often telling him he should be happy someone even found him in that burning boat. The assignments and killing got to his head; the effects of that were for Niv to deal with.

He did have a few friends, tho. A boy named Klaus, a tall dreamer, was his bestie, and rounding up the gang were the fierce Magni, and the sassy Olga. They grew up together; mainly Klaus knew about Niv's home situation and always tried to cheer him up.

They had a dream, the two of them. To escape the Myriad Tribe and it's gruesome classes, and sail into the world. Find the hidden mythologies, visit places they had only heard the names of. Niv added to that his own personal goal of wanting to find his birth family - the only thing he had left of them was a small bracelet with his name engraved in it. Klaus told him they would find them together, brown eyes brighter than any.

Over the years, Niv slowly developed a crush on his friend. Olga knew of it, of course. Magni, slower on the uptake, didn't truly understand how love worked. He didn't need it to become the best fighter in the tribe, after all. Niv and Olga just laughed it off, amused by their friend's mind.

The Myriad Tribe was strange in its ways. Every year again, a festival was organised, in which the current class of 13-14 year olds would be given their last exam before they would continue their studies on a higher level. It was arranged by their Chief, the strongest of all, and was different each and every year.

Just before their year would be doing their exams, Klaus decided he would run away. He asked Niv to come with him, bright, excited. Niv agreed; together, they would chase stars, would become comets. Klaus kissed his cheek as they went their separate ways to pack up their things.

However, they were caught. Bendik and the Chief had discovered their little boat, had set it on fire. As if he couldn't be even more ruthless, Bendik threw his adoptive son in prison to make him think about his actions, no matter how much Niv, or even Darcy and Amanda, begged. Klaus was dragged away, kicking his legs and screaming.

After having gone through such a brutal thing at such a tender age, Niv cried and cried in his prison. When the morning of the exams arrived, he was pulled out of prison again, broken, numb. He and the other students were blindfolded as they were brought to the other side of the island, where the festival had been happening all those years.

Cheering. Screaming. One by one, students were taken away. Niv couldn't see their faces, sitting on a bench next to who he thought was Magni. His hands were shaking as the rumbling voices of excited assassins attacked his ears.

He was pulled up by the shoulder, rough hands pushing him forward. An eternity later, the blindfold was ripped from his head - his heart stopped.

The bodies of his peers, splattered across the floor. Six, seven, maybe. The blood made him hurl, his stomach turning in protest. As he looked up, he saw Bendik, sitting on a bench outside the arena with the sickest of grins on his face.

Then, the door on the other side of the arena opened. Klaus, beaten blue, was pushed in, his breathing heavy. Just as Niv wanted to rush to him, to help him, the Chief raised his voice and explained the exam.

A duel.

To the death.

Niv couldn't breath anymore.

A sword was pushed in his hands; his ears rang as his legs trembled. Klaus pushed himself off the ground, his eyes scanning his surroundings, before resting on Niv.

Silence. Neither wanted to attack the other, it wasn't right. Society pushed them to be against each other, to fight for the right to live. A hard truth, but that didn't make it any less real. Klaus was the first to realise they couldn't both make it out alive.

So... he gave himself up. Rules said Niv would fail too if he didn't deliver the final blow himself, so he didn't have much of a choice.

Chase the stars for me, Klaus begged, become a comet for me.

And that was it. Another innocent dreamer lost to society.

The next weeks were a disaster for Niv; he couldn't eat, speak. Breathing hurt his heart. Seeing Magni and Olga, both having barely survived, made him feel numb. Even when Bendik decided his adoptive son was back in his good graces, Niv couldn't feel the joy of that.

He grew lonely, angry. Why did this happen? There was no good explanation for it, no reason. It shouldn't have been this way. He should've been with his parents, with Klaus, already.

They should've been among the stars by now.

Over the next few months, Niv slowly cleared his mind, but he wasn't happy. He wanted to get away from there, be anywhere but in the Myriad Tribe.

That was when a mysterious woman named Solveig showed up on the island. She recognised Niv; told him she knew his parents. Wanted to take him home with her.

Niv was hesitant at first, but was quick to warm up to Solveig. They would go away together, and soon. He wanted to meet the people he was told loved him more than the sun, the moon, and the stars combined.

However, they were caught again. Thrown into the same prison Niv had been in before, much to his horror. Solveig assured him it would be alright, she had been in worse situations before. She was right; they were rescued by another assassin, named Nabira.

This time, all went according to plan. The trio could sail away, towards the rising sun, homewards, finally.

Reuniting with his family was even more emotional than Niv had thought before. His mother cried his heart out as she hugged him to her chest; his father, looking so much like himself, couldn't even speak anymore, which, according to Solveig, was unusual.

Niv could leave the Myriad Tribe behind him at last.

He had finally chased the stars.

Siri and Gustav's A-Team adventures;

Let's make the switch from Niv's sad story to something a bit more fun! (ngl this too will turn dark very quickly lmao, I promise they do have fun adventures, but I haven't worked all of that out.)

Most of Siri and Gustav's A-Team adventures are set after HTTYD2, aka after most of the older members would've left the Auxiliary due to other duties and responsibilities. This would leave two awkward kids in charge, we wouldn't want that, now would we?

However, still seeing the need for a back-up team, Astrid asked the young Captain and Siri, now sixteen (Siri) and eighteen (Gustav) years old respectively, to find new members to support them.

Among those applying for a position was a young man named Ludvig, a newcomer on Berk, having recently gotten stranded on the shores. However, he wasn’t the only one – Adelaide Jorgenson, Snotlout's younger sister, applied as well.

However, Adelaide seemed a bit wary of Ludvig. She recognised him from somewhere, somehow. It was probably nothing and instead of worrying, she told Siri about all her adventures in the wild, as she had spend a few years traveling with her Typhoomerang, Squeaky. She had ran into different tribes, had explored new cultures and even had an encounter with an assassin while staying in the Haffing Tribe – the only thing she could remember about him was a strange tattoo on his wrist, in the form of a sword. Siri adored the stories, listening to every single one with a smile on her face.

Once the new A-Team was realised and Ludvig had bonded with a Death Song, Roar, Astrid and Hiccup decided it would be good for them to spend a few months on the Edge to bond as a group – Gustav saw it as a rite of passage for some reason, which Siri didn’t exactly agree with, but she liked the way he saw it. However, it was the perfect way to escape from her father’s wishes, so she was more than excited to leave Berk.

They left for the Edge, where, after settling in and having a few debates over huts, if Gustav or Adelaide should take leadership, and food, they started exploring the area. Adelaide, already familiar with the world, took them to the Hafport Island, home of the Haffing Tribe, where the Riders met a young woman named Unnyr Litt, the daughter of the current Chief and leader of the Hafport Valkyries. She was kind, having clearly been friends with Adelaide for a while, seeing by the way she let the girl and her friends in without question.

Gustav immediately took a liking to the warrior, blushing whenever she spoke to him. While a bit upset by this for reasons she couldn't fully explain, Siri supported him fully, cheering him on whenever he tried to flirt with Unnyr, despite Adelaide laughing at him. Unnyr, clearly unaware of his intentions, thought Gustav was just trying to be friendly, which she appreciated greatly, kindly returning his affections.

Unnyr showed the Riders around the village, where Siri was enthralled by the island’s Academy. Many young children were learning how to write, about history, and basic skills – she visited it a few times on her own to watch the teachings.

The Riders got to meet the Chief of the Haffing Tribe, Ivar Litt, Unnyr’s father. Siri and Ludvig discovered the Chief was hiding an oncoming war against a rivalling tribe, the Lichting Tribe and that the assassin Adelaide had spoken about had come from them. Ivar asked them to help; Hafport Island hadn’t been able to train Dragons like Berk and he felt useless against the large warships and domesticated Dragons of the Lichting Tribe.

Not knowing how to respond, Siri told Ivar that they needed to discuss that with their own Chief as she wasn’t sure he wanted to involve Berk in another war – however, Ludvig interrupted her and told Ivar that he would have the Auxiliary Team behind him.

When Siri confronted him about this later, Ludvig told her he could not bear to watch the Chief look so broken, so worn out. He was sorry for not discussing it with anyone, but wouldn’t Siri have done the same? Wouldn’t she have helped an old man in need, a tribe under the threat of war? Siri couldn’t say no to that, and Ludvig told her he felt the same way, so she should just keep quiet about him agreeing to Ivar’s request.

A few days later, it was decided a request for peace would be send out. Ivar, Unnyr, her most trusted Valkyrie, Catherina, and the Auxiliary Team would send out to the Lichting Tribe to discuss the subject. Gustav, still captivated by Unnyr, still tried everything to get in her good graces – which seemed to be working. It saddened Siri, but Ludvig told her to not mind the Captain’s behaviour. There was more in the world for her, after all.

Ludvig seemed to be flirting with Siri – Adelaide got concerned about her friend’s feelings in all of this. She asked Siri to keep her distance from her teammate, seeing as she still didn’t trust him completely. However, Ludvig, afterwards, told her not to listen to Adelaide, she didn’t know him.

The group arrived at the Lichting Tribe, where they were greeted by Varg Ketelsen, the Chief. He had a strange glance in his eyes, his gaze wandering over the young Auxiliary Team like they were prey. When his eyes rested on Ludvig, Adelaide got even more suspicious. She needed to gain information about this man, this wasn’t okay anymore.

Varg invited them for dinner – an awkward encounter, at which Ludvig seemingly pushed himself into the background, observing the room as if he was a soldier at war. Adelaide noticed and afterwards, she pulled Siri aside to talk to her about her concerns. Siri tried to assure her that it was all okay, maybe Ludvig was just nervous being around new people, but Adelaide insisted. There was something wrong with him.

Days went on; the A-Team, Unnyr and Catherina were invited to join in festivals and games, a jolly atmosphere lingering all over the village. The Lichting Tribe seemed genuinely happy to put all the years of rivalry aside and start anew. Ivar started to laugh more as well, the weariness lifting from his face. He seemed more at peace now the conflict was put to a rest, at which Unnyr was very happy. She had her father back.

That was, until Ivar Litt, the Chief of the Haffing Tribe, was murdered in his sleep. Unnyr found him in the hut they had been given after returning from a celebration at the pyres and she was devastated, running back to the pyres and blaming the Lichting Tribe. Catherina had to hold her back – Gustav and Adelaide rushed to get Varg Ketelsen.

Siri, being left alone, noticed someone was missing. Ludvig was nowhere to be found, so while Varg tried to calm the masses down, Siri sneaked away to find her teammate.

After she and Funnet had searched half the village, they eventually found Ludvig on the beach. He was washing out his clothes in the sea; underneath him pooled a puddle of watered out blood. Siri, suddenly afraid Adelaide had been right, asked him what he was doing, and the crazed look in his eyes when he turned to face her made her heart stop.

He calmly explained to her that he had killed the Chief – he, Ludvig Forrad, had killed the Haffing Chief in cold blood. Why? Why, that’s what they all ask. For money of course, for the Myriad Tribe, he explained as he washed the dried out blood from his fingers. Siri suddenly noticed the tattoo on his wrist. She wanted to throw up when she realised Ludvig was the assassin from Adelaide’s stories.

Fear rising, Siri wanted to run away, but Ludvig was too quick, snatching her wrist. Just before he put his hand over her mouth, she yelled at Funnet to go – Ludvig just chuckled, telling her she wouldn’t be able to tell anyone if she was dead.

A pity, he told her as Funnet flew away, she could’ve fallen for him. Not that he would’ve cared, he only flirted with her to keep himself in her good graces so she wouldn’t tell on him to Adelaide, or worse, their idiotic Captain. He laughed at her team, called them useless, second-graded underlings. Siri tried to escape, the panic troubling her mind. Eventually, she succeeded in getting out of his grasp after hitting his nose with her head, quickly attempting to run away.

Ludvig catched her again – a cat and mouse game, seemingly never ending. He had her at the throat, knife in his hand, when someone called Siri’s name. Gustav and Adelaide came flying to them with Funnet and Ludvig, his eyes widening, realised he couldn’t go up against so many people.

Instead, as a disguise for his deeds, he quickly leaned in and kissed poor Siri. When the Riders jumped off their Dragons, he complained that they were having a moment, Siri needed to be consoled after having gone looking at Ivar’s corpse.

Siri, however, pushed him away, trembling, sobs choking in her throat – Gustav rushed to his friend, pulling her away from Ludvig as Adelaide grabbed her knife. She accused Ludvig of killing Ivar and Ludvig denied everything. He instead told them that he and Siri went to look at the body, see if there were any clues as to who did it. His clothes got bloody during that, he needed to wash them and Siri was hysterical after seeing the body, so they went here.

Clutching herself onto her confused best friend, Siri shook her head, not able to bring out anything else. Ludvig sighed, wanting to take her over from Gustav to calm her down, she would appreciate that more – Gustav, still in shock, just pulled his friend closer, shielding her from his teammate, telling him to back off. Fanghook and Funnet got between them, forcing Ludvig backwards.

Adelaide suddenly noticed the tattoo as well and realisation hit. Ludvig was the assassin she had encountered before, send by Varg Ketelsen. By the Gods, she realised, they needed to get out of here. She asked Siri to tell her what had happened – Siri told her everything, finally speaking up for herself. Quickly taking over leadership from her Captain, Adelaide ordered Squeaky to grab Ludvig. The young man tried to run away, but the Typhoomerang was quick enough.

The Riders flew back to the village, where things got heated between Unnyr, Catherina and the Lichting Tribe. Varg, in the background, just watched it with a grin. Funnet, now with no-one on her back as Siri was still shaking, sitting behind Gustav on Fanghook, rushed down to grab the girls, pulling her up.

Soon, the group was back on Hafport Island, where Unnyr was forced to take over leadership on the same day her father was murdered. Keeping her head cool, seeing the escalating threat on the horizon, seeing as Varg made sure Unnyr would blame the Lichting Tribe for the murder which would lead to a war between their people, Unnyr ordered everyone to ready the weapons and to get the children out of village. She sentenced Ludvig to death at dawn; the young man kept his head up as he glared at the Riders and new Chieftess.

Preparations were made – Adelaide visited Ludvig one last time, asking her to explain himself. It turned out he was an assassin from the Myriad Tribe, who worked in secret and got jobs from people all around the archipelago. He had been ordered to kill Ivar Litt while he resided on the Island of the Lighting Tribe and had just fulfilled his task.

Adelaide called him sick and told him she was glad he would be executed in the morning. Ludvig didn’t respond – Adelaide walked out of the prisons at this, fuming with anger.

Meanwhile, Gustav was helping Siri wash the dried up blood Ludvig had left on her from her arms. She was quiet, shaken by everything that had happened, regretting ever trusting such a boy. She must’ve been stupid for not seeing the signs. Gustav countered that, saying he didn’t notice anything either. This was no-one’s fault, according to him, and she wasn’t wrong for giving Ludvig a chance. And that he used her, chased her and hurt her, wasn’t her fault either.

Siri leaned against him, quiet sobs overtaking her as the two friends tried to make sense of the entire situation, silently preparing themselves for the oncoming battle the Haffing Tribe would have to fight.

The next morning, Ludvig was killed in front of the entire village, his body ripped open for all to see – Siri had to turn her eyes away as Unnyr ripped the dagger from his neck, all the way down to his stomach. Soon after that, the Lichting troops arrived.

A battle happened, many were lost, many gained scars. Unnyr managed to kill Varg Ketelsen in a call for revenge, gaining control over the Lichting Tribe as by their law, the murderer of the current Chief would be the next leader. The Dragon Riders warded off the ships with their Dragons, working together as a true team.

Soon, peace returned, despite how many buildings needed to be rebuild. Unnyr was able to explain the situation to the Lichting Tribe’s council and they promised they would work together to find a suitable way of working together, to which Unnyr agreed.

Finally having time to grief, Ivar Litt was given his final farewell, after which life went on. The Riders returned to the Edge – Gustav was promptly blasted into reality after asking Unnyr if they could continue dating from a distance, to which Unnyr was confused and told him she already had a girlfriend, Catherina – where they packed up their things and travelled back to Berk.

Sketches and other things;

I actually do have a lot of sketches and drawings for my ocs! However, since this answer is getting really long (fr I love to infodump about my ocs sm) I'll be putting those in a seperate post and if you want to, I can tag you in it! :D

On other notes, one thing I'd love to point out is Bendik and Ludvig Forrad's relationship. Ludvig is Bendik's younger brother and after his death, Bendik pushed himself even more, why, he didn't know. To avenge his baby brother? To make sure he himself wouldn't be killed? This man is a mystery, but this would explain his actions a bit.

Anyways, I loved your ask!! It's never annoying to get asked to talk about my ocs omg, so no worries! I had sm fun writing this all down and I love that you're so invested in their stories!! It really warms my heart to see that! (Fr when I saw the tags you wrote at the other ask I audibly squealed) <333

[violet-t-9]

Check in on my (not very realistic) wish list for episode 141

 1. Blooming Grove Clay family reunion! Hugs and tears! Home-cooked meal and tea! Much needed relaxation and downtime after saving the world.

Ay that was a nice meal and a good night’s sleep.

2. Widogast’s Nascent Nein (9!) Sided Tower because Caleb still has a spell slot for that! So many cats and books. Also, rooms for Essek and Molly (9!). Bonus: seeing more rooms on the 8th floor of the tower?

Oof well thanks Trent now we don’t get to see the tower again, ever. I’m 100% sure that Essek will see his room during the Aeorian study fun times and Luc and Yeza will see their rooms in magical summer camp with professor Widogast though, so I’m happy.

3. Check in and visiting Allura to return her staff and Kima’s Holy Avenger (”hey we saved the world killed Lucien stopped the city Allura are you proud of us? You are? Tell us who is on the Tal’Dorei council.”)

They mentioned it, but they didn’t play it out, unfortunately. Alas, the members of the Tal’Dorei council shall forever remain a mystery.

4. Check in and visiting Yussa and Wensforth to apologize for their last visit to the Tidepeak Tower and using his emergency exit plan, but Yussa being too grateful to be saved from a screaming city hivemind to care.

Yep, thank you Caleb for remembering Yussa lol. Should have known that he would want to study the Happy Fun Ball... Wizards sharing knowledge, how nice! Also, Veth’s goodbye to Wensforth was very sweet.

5. Molly getting more and more of his memory back and slowly becoming his old flamboyant self.

I... wow I mean I guess Kingsley? This technically happened? He is going to become someone new, which is always exciting! He got a lot of... interesting memories back too. He is also interested in learning about Molly’s memory too, even though he is somebody else (and just as flamboyant).

6. Caleb says goodbye to Frumpkin and there is either a sweet farewell or Frumpkin just goes “nah fam I choose my wizard you can’t get rid of me”.

Aw Frumpkin didn’t feel ready to leave at first... :( The actual farewell was indeed short and sweet, I loved it. 

7. Beau and Yasha moments, conversations, fun times, shameless PDA, or potentially fade to black because they deserve it.

Camping outside at night, aw. Their moment after the Zeenoth trial was very touching as well! “Yes, my love?” and “my Expositor” lol how romantic they are. They are planning to settle down and explore Yasha’s past together! Their honeymoon little trip! Also, “I will have you and then some” was indeed hot.

8. Jester and Fjord being domestic, adorable and sharing kisses/conversations or potentially fade to black because they deserve it.

The sleep snuggle was soo cute and Jester’s love admission was adorable! Also the rain and double confession wow Fjord what a romantic man. Their conversation in Nicodranas was sooo cute guys. They planned boat trips!

9. Caleb and Essek have a long one-on-one conversation about their “it’s complicated” relationship and have some more physical contact (still reeling from the forehead touch last episode).

Caleb attempting to include Essek in the globe of invulnerability and Essek dragging Caleb away from melee combat aw. The kiss on the cheek and the empathetic hug... I will take the time travel conversation as well. 

10. Veth, Yeza and Luc’s joyful/tearful family reunion and happy fun times in which Veth and Yeza may or may not celebrate in private.

Aw that was a nice reunion, so very cute. Veth gets to fully return home to her family after saying goodbye! I’m going to assume that she celebrates her return with Yeza in private. 

11. Cad’s moments with his family and also with Molly (because it’s fun to watch them on screen together and conversing let’s be real).

Caduceus gets to be with his family now, enjoying life at the blooming grove! He deserves the relaxation!

12. Jester’s reunion with her mother with big hugs and finding out that parent trap TM has succeeded thanks to her genius plans. Also, the gentleman being a super awkward but loving dad.

Yes I knew it would work! The gentleman is a nervous drinker confirmed lol. The mother-daughter talk was very nice and a great reminder!

13. The Mighty Nein plans for the future: getting rid of Cloven Crystal, Fjord visiting Vandran (with Jester probably, who discusses Tusk Love with him) and maybe Sabian? Yasha’s plan to bring flower to Zuala (trip with Beau?). Beau’s plans regarding Zeenoth’s trial (has that happend yet? Does she want to go?) and Caleb’s plans for the assembly (or even further ahead, magical school? Aeorian research with Kryn Colleague? How pissed is Ludinus Da’leth?)

Well, the empire siblings sure started a task force against the assembly huh. Also yeah Caleb you tell him, F**k your vacancy Martinet Ludinus Da’leth! Professor Caleb will teach Luc. Astrid would be more interested in the position anyways. Fjord got to visit Vandran with Jester and got him to join their sailing adventures! Jester also talks about Tusk Love with him wow. Beau testified against Zeenoth with Yasha by her side! Yasha gave flowers to Zuala on a trip with Beau! Caleb and Essek got to do their Aeorian research study! Fjord’s cloven crystal adventure was also addressed! I’m so good at predictions you guys I KID YOU NOT I predicted everything.

14. Getting an update about Astrid and Eadwulf to find out that they are in fact doing fine because Trent is in deep trouble and under heavy investigation by the Augen Trust and Cobalt Soul (bonus: Trent is already starting to get what he deserves. Or even better, Trent has died from liver failure in jail. Like his jaundice really kept getting worse so one can hope I guess?)

F**k you Trent, you just had to show up and ruin everything didn’t you. Well, Astrid and Eadwulf are fne now, and Trent IS in deep trouble and rotting in jail. Still hoping that he will die from liver failure after like, a few years.

15. Fjord officially “meeting the parents” and Gentleman/Marion giving Fjord the shovel talk because that didn’t happen last time.

Aw he didn’t go with! But the gentleman did talk about Fjord anyways lol and gave her some sound advice.

16. Wedding mentions/discussions? Proposals? Anyone? No?

Well Jester proposed to marry... her parents? Lol did not see that one coming. Veth and Yeza renewing vows yes! It was a nice suggestion. 

17. Artagan/sprinkle joins in the celebration because why not (bonus: Sprinkle gets to be free! Or whatever an undead weasel could be lmao)

Artagan and Jester’s conversation was very nice development for them. Sprinkle gets to stay forever, unfortunately for Sprinkle lol.

18. Obligatory wish for Essek’s fancy dunamancy or magical items (like I know we will never see dark star probably but I live for spell casting flavours).

Essek’s hold person on Trent was clutch, “stay down”, what a king. The tether essence, lightning bolt and gravity sinkhole were all wonderful. Still sad about the dark star never being seen though.

19. Obligatory wish for the polymorph spell (look, I just love it okay).

Hey, Jester threatened Astrid with it! Polymorph mention wins! Fjord was sad about the potential choice of turning her into a turtle but it would have been funny.

20. Obligatory wish for Caleb to use more fire/customized/dunamantic spells creatively or with nice flair (what’s sexier than wizards NOTHING).

What’s sexier than counterspells and dispel magic NOTHING. Also hey, the manacles of stasis worked!

21. Discussion about Essek’s future because oh boy can he even go back to the Dynasty? Have they found him out yet? If they did, how mad is the Bright Queen? Are Volstruckers too busy to chase him down? We need to know!

Oh man I mean Essek found a way to live freely at least! With a lot of illusions and identities, of course. He also got to stay in contact with the M9! I think he may show up in campaign 3!

22. Group hug! Group feast! Group cheer! I dunno, just do group stuff. They are the Mighty Nein, they are the Mighty Nine, they saved the world!

A lot of group hugs and feasts! I especially loved the hug when they said goodbye to Essek. 

23. Visiting/checking in with other NPCs or allies potentially! Like Kiri, Calianna, Twiggy, Keg, Shakasta, Bryce, Dagen oh also the Hag (I’m kidding).

They checked in with Orly! Not these allies but you know, Orly is awesome. 

24. Obligatory wish for everyone (the Nein, their friends/families) to get a happy ending that gives me a feeling of satisfaction and fulfillment, and that the episode/campaign ends with a poetically beautiful scene!

Yes, it was a very poetic and very beautiful story indeed

I love the Mighty Nein/Nine, I love the cast. I’m so grateful for their story in my life. Words are not enough to describe my thankfulness for being able to go on this journey with them.

Now excuse me I just need to go sob in a corner.

My score: 19/24

Seriously though check out #13 I’m proud of that one

Other Highlights: 

Caleb hit 100 HP OMG I too am proud of him.

Well I didn’t expect the boss fight but I’m glad we are getting one? 

Caleb’s produce flame was used by Veth on Fluffernutter, nice!

The Veth + Beau putting collar combo was the coolest thing I’ve ever seen, also there is something poetic about Caleb relying entirely on his friends and Astrid to carry out the collar tactic on Trent.

The forced empathy commands by Cad lmao wow angry Cad is scary, too bad Trent didn’t have any.

Veth’s silent image... Caleb disintegrating and burning everything in the T-dock... Caleb’s book for his parents... Professor Widogast... Excuse me I’m going to cry now.

[lofi-tophat]

Let’s talk about the 70s punk scene and HWS England

I sometimes feel that the fandom doesn’t give England’s love for punk/rock music much justice. Some authors usually write about this human AU in which Arthur wants to be a rockstar and some others plainly avoid the topic whatsoever. Which is a pity because I actually believe the whole character has a deep punk reference, specially regarding appearence (might expand on this in another post but basically, for me, England seems like some random bushy browed anime 70s punk guy who suddenly has to put on a suit and attend world meetings, which is both fascinating and hilarious).

So I thought maybe we could dive a bit into very general punk history and then I’d like to share with you some hc regarding England’s involvement with punk culture in general (if you just want to read the hcs just scroll down to the last paragraph with the bullet ponts).

My experience in punk stuff is actually that I’m kind of a metalhead lol. Metalheads and punks had and probably still have a deeply-rooted rivalry. However, punk influenced metal a lot, and metal also influenced punk. So I stumbled upon many punk facts while browsing about my favorite metal bands. 

Take this as historical hetalia... but counterculture historical hetalia :D (which is something we need more in the fandom, btw, I know military history is cool but its also cool how humans expressed themselves through art, fashion and music when they felt the pressure of authority and the frustration of society).

Historical context

Let’s return a bit in time and remember the 60s. The 60s were this blessed time in which people tried to defeat the establishment with peace and love. The hippie movement is from this decade and it influenced a lot on how people thought and behaved. In terms of counterculture, I must say this is a fascinating time in history (I recently discovered psychodelic science and its so incredible what was being talked back then).

Anyways, although a lot of young people were into this discourse of love and peace, some weren’t really that happy about it. In Europe, the post-war situation was sad and a lot of young people either were jobless or had the shittiest jobs you could imagine. Politics were also depressing. This was the origin not only for punk but also for other genres of heavy music, such as metal: People who didn’t want to be all happy and peaceful and had the need to express their frustration and anger, shouting about how society was fucked up. They needed an outlet.

Origins of punk

The origins of punk music are actually not quite clear. In fact, the US and the UK both claim that punk music was born in their country. Funnily enough, my country also claims to be the origin of punk (I’ll leave this mini-doc for you. Sadly, I don’t think this is a correct claim, mainly because their music was in spanish and I doubt that major punk bands took them as reference. Its a cool band tho).

I have to side with americans on this: The arguments for the american origins of punk are quite solid. The Ramones were the first actual punk band out there. They were active since 1974. Their music had all the elements of punk and, chronologically, they were the first ones performing this type of sound.

However, they didn’t have the aesthetic. That actually was a british invention. American punk had still leather jackets, jeans and sneakers. British punk? Well, remember all those ripped pants and shirts you commonly associate with punk? Yes, those were the Sex Pistols all along. They were the ones introducing the attitude and the style. The Pistols had some insane performances and a huge shock-value that can’t be found in early american punk. So you can safely say that your image of what a punk is is based mainly on the Pistols (also, for singing anti-authoritarian lyrics, they actually were managed by some dude who had a fashion shop. So yeah...).

Punk attitude or philosophy or whatever

The reason why I addressed the rockstar thing at the start of the post is because I find it curious. Punk is characterized by the whole Do It Yourself attitude and breaking with the establishment. Anarchism in punk is scandalizing people since there is no authority whatsoever. There wasn’t really any deep philosophy behind all of this, nor any political movement. Punk has nothing to do with a formal anarchist philosophy (which actually exists and has nothing to do with disorder). However, punk is characterized by the anti-establihsment lyrics. Remember, this is all about scandalizing people (which sometimes took great lengths). Presentations from british punk bands were also quite wild those days. They involved a lot of insults, spitting and, of course, pogo.

So, it is obvious that there is this deep concern about turning into a sellout, a pretty common fear in any underground scene. Authenticity was encouraged. Aspiring rockstars really didn’t have much mercy in the community so to speak, at least in this specific period. 

I would also like to add how punk had other aspects beside the music. For example, fanzines were pretty popular in the punk scene in the 70s and a great way to engage with what was going on with bands and music. I remember also this interview of this band in which they remembered how a very high guy decided to recite his poem while the band was playing. So, yeah, literature, illustration, fashion and other stuff were involved in the punk scene too.

British punk was also characterized by a very nihilistic attitude and a total disregard for previous influences. 1977, a song by The Clash, stated:

No Elvis, Beatles, or the Rolling Stones!

Now, for the important stuff: The music. Punk music is all about being simple. Punk musicians aren’t really known for their virtuosity in their instruments, something that actually inspired musicians from a lot of heavy bands later. In fact, the famous Sid Vicious from the Sex Pistols never could learn how to play the bass. So the band disconnected his instrument from the amplifier and he only had to pretend to play. The guy actually tried to learn how to play bass but music wasn’t exactly his talent. He had tons of punk attitude though, and that was the reason why his band didn’t kick him out. 

Vocals are usually shouted, the rythm is fast and the riffs are quite simple. In fact, there is this famous publication on a 1976 british fanzine that stated:

This is a chord

This is another

This is a third

Now form a band

HWS England and the 70s punk scene and onwards 

Thanks to his immortality, it is obvious that England had to experience the 70s in all their glory (what a lucky bastard). Was he there? Hell yes. As I explained before in some of my hc posts, nations represent the population more than their Government, so I really believe that England felt the frustration from that post-wwii decade and he probably also felt pissed about this. Working for the Government must have felt really frustrating during those years. 

In the past, he probably would have tried to take his ship and sail the seas or whatever, but that was not possible in the modern era. I guess that’s how he discovered punk. 

Now, rock existed in England before punk. I mean, the Beatles, duh. So Arthur wouldn’t have been completely ignorant about rock music in general. Contrary to popular belief I don’t imagine him being that much of a beatlemaniac though. Sure he likes them, but the music didn’t resonated with him as much. But boy, that first time he heard the Pink Fairies in 1971 (Yes, this was an actual band, a proto-punk band)? Yeah, he could relate more to that.

More detailed stuff here:

Pubs were crucial for the development of punk music. They were these spaces in which bands could play, a venue to discover new music. Yes, Arthur must have been a regular in a lot of these pubs.

Fanzines probably fascinated Arthur as an outlet for his own writings and silly drawings. He probably created a cringey pseudonym and collaborated with a lot of them. 

Its canon that England likes to critic american movies, and, taking from there, I think he’s the type of guy that has an opinion for everything. So I can imagine him also writing about what bands he enjoyed and what bands sucked.

Yeah, I can also see him being drunk and just reciting a poem while some rock band played behind.

With some ability, and a lil bit of tricks, Arthur could escape normal Government activities and perform with punk bands at nights. People were so into the music that he had no problem passing by.

Some cover art in CDs show Enlgland with a guitar and a bass (yes, not many people remember the bass cover art). So he probably plays both guitar and bass. He also probably plays the drums. Of course, he’s no virtuoso and he only knows the most basic stuff in those three instruments. I can see him being into songwriting tho.

Music equipment:

Guitar: Definetely a Telecaster

Bass: Fender P-bass and I can also see him having a Rickenbacker 4001

All these instruments are full with stickers. Punk instruments look really cool btw. (I wish my bass could look like those I see in certain punk bands)

England’s probably the kind of guy that doesn’t cut his strings at the head of his guitar.

He can actually play guitar/bass and sing at the same time.

England plays bass with a pick (what an asshole, we bassists know picks are not allowed)

Contrary to popular belief, I can see England appreciating good rock music from other countries and supporting them. He probably insists that punk music was born in the UK though.

1977: The Queen was going to celebrate her silver jubilee. And England had no problem with this. He really had none... but he HAD to be in that boat trip with the Sex Pistols. There’s no way he was going to miss that. He later had to explain his abscence that day to his Government officials (Btw, my hc for England’s relationship with his monarchy is “It’s complicated”. I can explain this later. Just remember that he was really pissed those days)

I can see Arthur in general being really involved with the scene. A lot of the stuff they were making actually matches with his canon interests and even personality. So he probably enjoyed those days and felt quite at home. I can even say that, for a long time, he hadn’t felt that kind of connection with his own people.

Although I can see England being attracted by the nihilism in the scene, I think his romanticism protects him from embracing it fully.

England had to live a double-life during this era. Not that it was new for him.

Arthur was pierced several times by some random, drunk teenagers. He doesn’t remember who tho. He was also drunk. Obviously his piercings close really fast, unless he has a permanent jewel in there.

I can actually see England expanding his music taste. Although punk is in his heart, it wouldn’t be strange for me that he’s overall a rock nerd and enjoys other genres, specially those with fast drum beats and heavy riffs. So I can see him having some metal favorites too, having a certain taste for prog rock and even digging into hardcore.

I’m still unsure if England would have been a massive Pistols fan as fanfics usually portray him. I mean, maybe? I would say he is definetely into acts such as the Pink Fairies (I mean, c’mon, its perfect). The Clash and the Damned probably also have a place in his heart.

After the punk scene dried out (the 80s weren’t that great for punk music although it was the birth of even heavier forms of music based on punk), England also was eager about the new genres flourishing during these times based on punk. Acts like folk punk might have had an appeal for him. He’s also fond of the punk-ish bands from the 90s like Green Day.

“Punk will never die!” shouted England while stage diving in some random small concert. He likes to support new bands these days.

The most fascinating thing, maybe in a more poetic sense, is that England’s immortality probably also helps him to keep up a punk spirit as much as his nationhood allows him, instead of aging poorly and angry like a lot of punk musicians... I mean, he aged poorly, but for other reasons lmao.

[idontmeantosoundrudebut]

Many of Horror (Chapter one: This secret goodbye)

Fandom - How to train your dragon (movie franchise)

Ship - Eretlout (+ background relationships)

Wordcount - 3748 words

Fanfic summary - Moving on is hard, especially from something that doesn’t want to be forgotten. But it’s easier when you have someone with you who understands that mind-scarring agony, it’s easier when someone will hold you in the dark when all the monsters come out to play, it’s easier when you’re loved. But Eret is going overseas and Snotlout is left alone in a cold bed. 

The dream is back and he feels sick. Sick in the head. (I really can’t think of a good summary for this, so sorry my dudes)

Tags/Warnings for this chapter - Mentions of past child abuse

So I have yet to finish this Fic yet but I’m just so excited to show it to yall that i just had to give you a little teaser!!! This fic takes place a year after HTTYD3 but the dragons never leave and Stoick never died because Hiccup deserved a whole family for more than one day (Dreamworks, i’m talking to you asshole)!

Also please check out The colour of friendship by Sarahenany and The colour of family by Thurdsday26 on the Archive because it they are big inspirations for this fic and if you love Spitelout bashing and Snotlout whump and found family then, oh boy, that is truly the jackpot of all Snotlout whump fics! Also, the title of this fic is based on the song Many of Horror by Biffy Clyro and this to the first like three lines and you’ll understand why! 

Please enjoy and give me any feedback that you have, negative or positive, do not hold back bitches!!!! Haha lol bruh

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Eret is leaving today, but he'll be back in a few weeks, a month maximum if the summer storms keep at bay (Ruffnut prayed briefly to Thor before bed last night. She doesn't know why; it was an impulse thing). He, along with six other crewmates, will be sailing far up north to the port-island he once called home to establish a trading route for Berk and to perhaps arrange a meeting between Chief Stoick and the chief of his native village. The Northmen are good people, Eret had reassured during a council a week back, who've long been held under the sole of Drago's boot and will gladly reward those who levered that pressure with both miscellaneous goods and a long-lasting alliance.

The only problem with this grand adventure is that they'll have to travel dragon-less.

The Northmen too have been terrorised by dragons for generations and they will not hesitate to net, bludgeon, and flay the first dragon they see, even if said dragon has a rider on their back. Act first and ask later kind of folk, a mindset which Ruffnut is very familiar with. Eret predicts that the concept of living with dragons in peace and harmony is one his people will be suspicious of for a time, but he assures that they'll warm up to it eventually. So, the first few trips will be dragon-less and slowly they'll weasel their Berkian values in, a very cunning plan indeed if Ruff didn't say so herself.

So today is the day of departure and she's on her way to the docks for the send-off, alone for a change. Tuffnut, eager to be out the house and tired of waiting for her to finish braiding her hair, had nabbed Barf and Belch and left her on her lonesome to walk. At first, she'd been peeved to all Hel, rightfully so, muttering to herself about how easier life would be without her dolt of a twin till she remembered just how peaceful, well, peace was. As vexing as Tuff is, Ruff cannot deny her sibling love for him, but she also cannot deny the simple serene beauty of silence.

She's striding down a street of huts, the docks insight, when she hears a terribly familiar voice.

"You better be back in two weeks, if you're not, I'm coming after you,"

Snotlout.

Ruff pauses mid-stride and takes a step back, looking into a narrow alleyway between two huts. She steps closer and presses herself against the left hut wall, slyly peeking her head out to gaze searchingly into the shadowed alley where she'd definitely heard Snotlout's voice. As mad as she is (and she is mad), she isn't to the point of hearing imaginary voices in the shadows (not for a few years, at least).

There. Stuck between a wall and a bulky silhouette, is the short and distinctive shadow of Snotlout Jorgensen. The figure Snotlout is pressed against lets out a hushed laugh, head bowing and if wasn't for that laugh, she'd definitely be able to identify him solely for the dark outline of his facial profile.

Eret, Son of Eret.

Oh, this... This is interesting, very interesting indeed.

"No promises, we might have to delay returning if we see a storm on the horizon," Eret informs and Snotlout makes a displeased snort, to which Eret adds in response, "But if we don't then, we'll be back as soon as we can. Snotlout, you won't even know I've left,"

"It already feels like you've left me," Snotlout murmurs, head hung low, and it catches Ruffnut by surprise, that statement because it's such a vulnerable thing for Snotlout to say and the way he says it, quiet and anxious, is so alien to her.

The use of the word "me" too, makes her mind turn and burn with theories because there is something so very deep in the small, added word. She doesn't know what yet, but there is something painfully human about it.

Ruff watches the shadowed duo, transfixed as Eret lifts a hand to Snotlout's chin, tipping his head up so that they are looking at each other.

It's such an abnormal gesture for her to witness, especially between two people with whom she's never associated such tenderness before.

Eret has always been this tall, handsome, foreign stranger with a silky voice and a self-assured walk, who is as handy with a sword as he is on a boat, who's always there to help and give back to the people who gave him a better life. Snotlout has always been this hot-headed, confident loudmouth who is way too short to be as brave as he is and is way too good at singing for Ruff to admit, who's full of unyielding loyalty and howling laughter. But most importantly, they hate each other.

Or, now that she thinks of it, they did hate each other.

The last few months have been lacking the usual rivalry between Snotlout and Eret and she doesn't know why it's only hitting her now. At some point, they two of them became friends and she's pretty sure she isn't the only one who hasn't noticed, which is so peculiar because she, and the others, have seen the two of them hanging out at the sawmill and flying together at dusk to light the torches. Gods, they drank with each other last night and there hadn't been a single crass word spoken. When did this happen? She and the rest of Berk have gone blind!

"Snotlout, I'll be back. Soon. I can't promise you when, but I'll be back, and next time I go north, you can come with me," Eret assures, and though Ruff can't see Snotlout's features, she can feel the atmosphere lifting and hear the smile in his voice.

"Yeah?" There is something so hopeful and childish in the way he breathes that word, something that tugs at Ruff's heartstrings.

"Yeah, I'm sure I can convince Hiccup to spare you of your very honourable duties for a few weeks,"

"Hey, shut up!" Snotlout's foot jerks out sharply to jab Eret in the ankle, the former laughing breathlessly in response, "My work is honourable, okay? Someone has to test all those crazy weapons Hiccup cooks up and I'm the only man for the job, no one else is as brave as I am," He exclaims, all confident and cocky and familiar to Ruffnut.

"You're sure right about that," Eret says as he again raises his hand and, this time, it comes in contact with Snotlout's cheek, she can see the faint movement of his thumb smoothing over the skin beneath his eye. His voice is awfully soft with a terrible fondness that Ruffnut sometimes hears in Hiccup's voice when he speaks about Astrid or vice versa, it's a tone that she automatically links up to people who are fiercely in love.

Oh, Freya, they're in love.

"You gotta head down to the docks, Eret, you'll be late to leave... or whatever," Again, that insecure whisper is back and by Gods, it sounds so brittle and shaky that Ruff almost considers the thought that Snotlout might be crying.

She would be if she was about to be separated from her lover for an unknown amount of time, Ruff ain't afraid to admit that, but if Snotlout is afraid of anything, it's expressing feelings and emotions (He's afraid of proving he's human, proving he's weak). But then again, maybe it's easier for Snotlout to air out his inner thoughts in front of Eret because, well, they're in love and to be so intimate with someone, they're eventually going to see all the ugly parts that you hide beneath the pretty façade. Eret has probably seen the old insecurity they all know that still lurks deep inside Snotlout, raw and unfiltered, a thing from his youth that made him angry and afraid, a thing that was just as damaging as the scars on his flesh.

Ruffnut, nor anyone else on Berk, will ever forgive Spitelout for what he did to Snotlout. She will gladly say that the day he was exiled was the best day of her life and she will not be alone in the statement. Cruel, merciless, cold-blooded bastard deserved to be Blood-eagled if you ask Ruff and Tuff (probably Hiccup too, no one was more enraged than he was.)

(Ruff has never been afraid of Hiccup, except for once. He's far too lanky, too merciful, too kind, to be a scary guy. But that day, when Snotlout had lifted his tunic in the clubhouse and revealed the ivory scars that were striped across his back and chest, she'd taken a step back at the sight of the inferno that had kindled in his eyes, at the sudden look of mercilessness that had steeled his features, at the trembling fists clenched at his sides. He looked like a man ready to kill, like a man ready to burn then world to the ground, like a man ready to give it all up just for revenge. She was afraid of him that day. So, so afraid that she had nightmares about him for days afterwards.)

"I'll be a bit late, the lads won't mind," Eret says lowly, drawing Ruffnut from her walk-in memory-lane, and she feels her heart tug as he bows his head to press against Snotlout's, "I'll stay here. With you,"

Forehead touching, especially in Viking culture, is the tenderest way to touch the ones who mean dearest to you. Be it a lover, a blood-relative, a shield-brother, anyone who is buried deep in your heart. And here, in the shadows of an alley, hidden and quiet like a forbidden dream, two people hold each other. Soon, they will have to let go and isn't that the most heart-breaking thing? Letting go?

Her heart feels too big for her chest and she almost feels like a changed person by witnessing this, witnessing something she was never meant to see. Will love be like this for her too? Terribly tender and awfully soft? She doesn't know, Gods, she shouldn't be here.

Ruff tries to drag herself back but she's like a moth to a flame, unable to pull herself away from this blindingly beautiful display of love, so raw, so real. She never imaged Snotlout to fall so easily to soft caresses, but of course, he would. It is always our deepest wants that will bring us to our knees and all Snotlout has ever wanted is love, a gentle hand, a place to bury his heart.

They share a deep and long kiss. It makes her feel lonely and she doesn't know why. They part, breathing on each other's lips and holding each other tightly because they know, they know, they have to let go any moment. Their foreheads are still touching.

"Promise me," Snotlout whispers and she sees the silhouette of his Adam's apple bob as he swallows thickly, "promise me you'll come back. To me. Eret, promise you'll come ba-"

A quick but meaningful kiss quietens Snotlout's desperate pleas and Ruffnut has never heard him beg before, not like that, not like he's afraid that Ragnarök is about to fall upon them. Eret cradles Snotlout's face with his large hands. They are so close, they've almost become one shadow.

"I promise you, Snotlout," Eret vows, quiet but vehement, his lips brushing against Snotlout's, "I promise that I will come back to you,"

Another kiss is shared between them, sealing the oath that Eret has made and therefore making it unbreakable. Eret will return, he has to, and Ruff doesn't know what will happen if he doesn't. Something tragic, something unbearable to watch, something she can't allow to happen. She will not see Snotlout ruined again. So, she promises herself that if Eret does not return, she'll fly herself up to Valhalla, drag him back to Berk and the Gods best keep themselves to themselves and not get in the way of her mission, lest the know the true wrath of a Thorston woman.

"Come on, before Hiccup starts a search party," Snotlout says, voice stronger now that the promise of returning has been made, "Selkie's gonna want a proper goodbye too or she's gonna follow you the whole way,"

Eret nods in agreement and peeks his head out of the alleyway, looking up and down the street in search of any unwanted bystanders. In the sunlight, his eyes glitter amber and Ruffnut can make out his hand, large and golden, curled around Snotlout's.

"You sure you can handle her? I know that-"

"Gods, Eret, she's the timidest Thunderdrum I've ever seen! If I can handle Hookfang and a borderline psychotic Terror, among other things, then she's going to be a piece of cake," He reassures, almost sounding offended, and Eret chuckles softly as he gives Snotlout a fond look.

Ruff watches them step out from the alley into the sunlit street, hands no longer intertwined. She can make out the red flush on Snotlout's cheeks and the faint wetness beneath his eyes, which he wipes away hastily. The two of them share a look, secret and quiet, lips curled into gentle smiles, fingers twitching with the longing to touch. Then, as sudden as lightning, the tender-faces fall away and they leave, together but still somehow so far apart. They enter the real world not as lovers, but as friends, as a secret waiting to reveal itself.

For a few moments, she stays where she is, staring into the unlikely place of a secret lovers' farewell. Who knew that a place like this, small and dark, would hold such a tragic and beautiful moment? Ruffnut feels a mixture of emotions, the biggest one being happiness because bless the Gods, Snotlout has found love and if anyone deserves it, it's him.

At the after ceremony of Hiccup and Astrid's wedding a year back, a drunk Snotlout had suddenly embraced her tight and long and said; I'm gonna be alone forever, Ruffy, but that's okay, I got you guys, so... I not really alone. And being just as drunk as he was, she'd laughed and poured him another drink, dancing with him till the sun came to steal the night. She didn't remember what he said till a few days after and it had filled up with such a fierce and sudden sadness that Tuffnut had dragged her home, demanding an explanation for the terrible look in her eyes.

That's the thing with a twin like Tuff, the second her mood changes, he can sense it like a hunting dog catching the scent of blood. She can do it too, but Tuff has never been one to hide his true feelings while she, similar to Snotlout, would rather avoid the conflict of talking sentiments (even with Tuff). Her brother has to drag it out of her most times, corner her and say stupidly melancholic stuff like;

I can smell it, sister. You're sad.

Tuffnut is a curse and blessing all at once and she wouldn't have it any other way.

But anyway, she's overjoyed to see Snotlout in love and loved, but she's also anxious about it. Anxious in a way an older sibling is over a younger sibling when they start to dabble in dangerous things, in things that can get them hurt. And if love is anything, it's dangerous. If love can do anything, it can get you hurt.

Snotlout has been hurt enough. Snotlout has endured and lived through torture and torment, through betrayal and loss, through things she can't imagine surviving. She will not see him hurt again, not by Eret, not by love, not by anything. He doesn't deserve it.

The others will also share her feelings when they discover this secret love story, that she is sure of. Especially Hiccup, who in the past few years has become like an older brother to Snotlout (like the same way that Stoick has become a father to him, the same way Valka has become a mother to him). He takes his new sibling occupation very seriously and it is comical, the wiser brother and the reckless brother always at odds but always there to protect each other.

There's a headache brewing in her temple. Gods, she's been thinking and overthinking again.

It'll be fine, she reassures herself, stepping away from the alley and making towards the docks, the Gods wouldn't curse them all with more bad fortune, would they?

It's probably the most stupid question she's ever thought, in hindsight.

When she gets to the docks, it's jam-packed with dragons and Vikings alike, friends and family saying farewell to the crew and wishing them good fortune on their journey. The sky is clear and blue, perfect for sailing, and Ruff concludes that she wasn't the only one begging Thor to keep his storms to himself.

Immediately, her eyes are drawn to Tuffnut, dangling upside down from Belch's neck as he converses with a bemused Fishlegs. She's tempted to go over, but not yet, she has to do something first.

She quickly surveys the area, seeing one of the Berkian members of Eret's crew giving his vermilion Nadder a thorough farewell and a Northman kissing his Shield-maiden fiancé goodbye.

The Northmen, Eret included, were intrigued to see such wild and free women when they first came to Berk. Berkian women are hearty and frightening and hard to impress, daughters of wolves, bearers of warriors, the fiercest things on the battlefield.

So it had been a cultural shock to them, Eret had admitted one day, for their home only holds women who sew the clothes and make the food, who bear the children and tend to the house, who are quiet and timid and easily won over by a half-assed sonnet. Most marriages are arranged and many daughters are traded for land or gold, true love is a rarity to come by. Eret is proud of his home, but these are the parts he is ashamed of.

Astrid was the first woman Eret had ever seen to hold a weapon and he'd never met a woman as savage as Ruffnut before. Ruff will forever be proud that she was Eret's first taste of wildness.

There. She's found who she's looking for.

Eret kneels on one knee before Selkie, his beauty of Thunderdrum. She's orange like a sunset, pale and washed-out, with white flecks scattering her hide like parted clouds, matching her ivory belly, and Ruffnut has never seen a dragon with eyes that blue before. Selkie lets out an unhappy groan as she presses her face further into Eret's hand, eyes low in her grief as she listens to his whispers. Ruffnut can't make out what he's saying, but she's sure it's everything soft and reassuring.

Snotlout is close by, she notices, watching Eret with an open fondness. If Hiccup or Astrid walked by right now and took notice of the raw love in Snotlout's gaze, they would immediately know the truth. Clearly, she isn't the only one thinking this because Hookfang, stood beside his rider, nudges Snotlout with a warning hiss in the back of his throat. Never let it be said that Hookfang doesn't look out for Snotlout, he's ornery and easily distracted, but he makes up for it all with his loyalty.

Soon enough, the ship is ready and it's time to go. People gather along the docks and make their last hurried farewells. The drums begin and the chants of fortune echo across the waters, there's an intoxicating atmosphere permeating the air. Ruffnut hurries through the crowd, easily shoving unmoving folk to the deck in her haste because she has yet to speak with Eret. He's shaking hands with Chief Stoick and is about to go up the gang walk when she suddenly lunges herself at him.

"Ruffnut!" He gasps, surprised and clearly a bit uncomfortable, but he'll have to deal with her for the moment, "Thought you weren't going to- uh- show,"

"Course I was, idiot, and anyways-" She leans her head close to his ear and wraps a hand around his bicep, digging her sharp nails into his flesh threateningly as she whispers, "-I have to remind you to keep to that promise, Eret, son of Eret, I'm not going to have Snotlout hurt again. I was robbed of my revenge last time, I won't be again,"

When she pulls back, she flashes him a smile with too many teeth and bats her lashes with an intimidating gleam in her eyes. She's given this look to men who are now dead and it is Eret's choice if he wishes to be added to that mass grave. Eret stares back at her with shocked eyes, cheeks slightly red, and he clenches his jaw as he swallows thickly, rubbing a hand over the raised welts on his bicep. The drums echo across the water and the chanting voices chase after in earnest. After a bewildering moment, Eret gives her an awkward but thankful smile and nods his head in understanding.

"I'll keep that in mind," He says and all the tension in his muscles seem to slip away as Ruffnut softens her menacing gaze on him, clapping him boisterously on the already injured shoulder.

"Atta boy," She cackles, shoving him up the gang walk as she calls after him, a throaty laugh colouring her words, "You better be back in two weeks, you son of an Eret, or I'm coming after you!"

To her delight, she hears him laugh back at her.

The ship finally departs from the dock, sail high and proud as its pushed by the encouraging wind and the waves part smoothly as the bow cuts through the water, sure and steady. Some of the crew hang off the ratlines, saying goodbye to Berk (for now), and Eret stands, tall and almost warrior-like, on the stern. The salt-touched wind carries his dark hair and the sun reflects off his dark eyes, they glitter with a sadness that Ruffnut wouldn't have noticed if she didn't know the things she knew. His smile is melancholic, Gods, he already looks homesick. He's looking at someone and she already knows who.

Turning to look at Snotlout, she can see that his hands are balled up into white-knuckled fists, that his smile is forced and pained, that his eyes shimmer with tears.

Snotlout has always hated goodbyes. Especially ones that aren't supposed to last. Because they always do.

[fbfh]

hey, sailor - leo x daughter of poseidon

genre: a little bit of angst, a little bit of fluff, a lot of mermaids lol

word count: 2.4k

au: none really, you have mermaid powers as a daughter of poseidon if that counts lmao

pairing: Leo x Daughter of Poseidon

requested: yeeyee !! hope u enjoy xoxo

warnings: uh brief mention of your step dad leaving when you were younger, an interaction with your best friend doesn’t go as planned, percy’s grappling with rlly complicated feelings towards his dad and new sister 

summary: Percy, Annabeth, and Leo all get a little more than they bargained for when they bring Percy’s half sister back to camp Halfblood, and Leo remembers why he had such a huge crush on Ariel growing up. 

reccomended songs: hurricane drunk - florence + the machine, sinkin’ in - cody simpson, deep sea ambiance

a/n: as soon as i got this request my dormant mermaid phase woke up from a sound sleep 

requests r open uwu

"...And you know what he said to me? He says, 'kid, I think it's time you met your sister'. I have a freaking sister, and that two timing piece harpy sh-"

"Okay, Percy, why don't you cool off a little before we leave. Come on, we'll grab a drink or something while Leo finishes getting ready." 

Annabeth takes her boyfriend's hand, and leads him to the nearest drink cooler. Leo turns back to the car they're going to take, and continues loading in the rest of the supplies. He, for one, is excited to meet Percy’s sister. His first thought was ‘hope she’s hot’, which he blurted out before he could stop himself, and was met with a killer glare from both of them. He’s not trying to be insensitive, finding out you have siblings you didn’t know about is kind of traumatic. I mean, hey, Leo’s family went from zero to sixty in one day - literally. Okay, not quite sixty, but only child to one of eight is still a pretty big jump. 

A little while later, they’re ready to go. Leo offers to drive, so Percy and Annabeth can sit in back and try to sort out Percy’s feelings. After a couple hours of driving and emotional conversations, most of which Leo just listened to - Annabeth seemed to have a good hold on this, and Leo didn’t want to overstep his bounds again - they arrived in Cape Cod. At this point, the gist seems to be that Percy knows if he should be mad at anyone, it’s his dad. They park in the driveway of the address Chiron gave them. They get out of the car, and look up at the house. It’s gray with white trimming, two or three stories, with a balcony porch on the upper floor - a normal, small town New England house, as far as they could tell. They seemed to take a collective breath, and approached the door. 

You’re breathing fast, trying to hold back the floodgates of emotion, when your bare feet hit the sand. You drop your bag, taking in the familiar, secluded stretch of the Cape. A big wall of jagged rocks to your left separates this part of the beach from the others. The old wooden stairs and their faded white paint that connected the low cliff to the sand below are hidden by plant life, so most people don’t even know this area existes. You’ve been coming here regularly since you were nine or ten. So many important parts of your life happened on these shores. You could just tell your mom ‘I’m going to my beach’, and she’d know right where you are. You finish pulling off your shorts and rush towards the water in your swimsuit. You’re met with immediate relief as soon as the water touches your skin. If it was possible to have an emotional support location, you did. 

You feel it happen as soon as you’re waist deep. Bubbles and sea foam collect around you from the hips down and your legs get tingly and numb. A moment later, it dissipates, leaving behind a life sized mermaid tail. It changes slightly with most transformations, usually based on your mood and desired appearance, and you’ve noticed over the years you can change how it looks more easily. You don’t care today, you just need to be in the water. This time it’s a big tropical fish tail, its purple, blue, and shimmery gray tones reflecting both your mood and the impending storm clouds rolling in. You dip below the surface, and let the tide carry you a little ways. You don’t worry about getting lost, you somehow always know where you are at sea. You don’t have gills that you can find, but you can definitely breathe underwater. 

You finally sink to the bottom, and stare up at the surface of the water. The patterns of light remind you of the night light you had as a child. 

Your mom had ensured you were comfortable with water and ocean life for as long as you could remember. She must know other people like you, because sometimes she would have long phone conversations with someone called the Director. You were pretty sure he had a weird name that started with a K or C, but you could never remember. He’s apparently sending someone to bring you to a ‘safe place’ today. It sounds like bullshit to you, but you trust your mom, and your mom trusts the Director. Since you might not be back for a while, she said you could finally tell your best friend Wes the truth. 

‘Oh god,’ you think, wishing the salt water would erase your memories of what happened today, but you can’t stop the onslaught of memories. Wes has been your best friend for years. You helped him when he realized he’s bi, he helped you when your step dad left, you could trust him with anything. Or so you thought. ‘It’s not his fault,’ you remind yourself, trying futilely to stop reliving what happened hours earlier. 

You brought him to your part of the beach to go swimming so you could show him. You can still hear his voice, asking if you’re sure you want to go in the ocean, you’ve always been afraid of water. Once you’d worked up the nerves to get in the water and transform, you showed him your tail. Your heart broke again every time you remembered what he had said. 

“That is... incredible,” your heart had soared, there was hope, “I can’t believe you got one of those silicone swimming tails just to prank me!” Ah, there it was. The other shoe. You tried to tell him it was real, but he said he could see the mold lines, and there the scales don’t quite line up, and there’s the edge of the zipper. You wanted to cry. 

“I’m not gonna lie, you almost had me for a second. I can’t believe you learned to swim just to prank me, but whatever works, dude,” he laughed like you were having a good time together. It was too much.

You let out a huge underwater scream, and thunder rumbles in the distance. You sink further down, wishing once again that the salt and algae would erode your memories from today. 

Annabeth knocks on the door for the third time. Thankfully, it opens to a middle aged woman in a shirt that said Brooklyn Nine Nine.

“Hello, what can I help you with?” she asks. She has a strong presence, and none of them want to be on her bad side. Percy is still too nervous, and Leo seems to be analyzing wires poking out of the doorbell, so Annabeth introduces themselves, and asks where you are. 

“Who wants to know?” she asks. 

“We’re her internet friends, we’re surprising her by visiting a day early.” Annabeth replies. The woman doesn’t seem convinced. She smiles, seeming to see right through them. 

“Are you from camp?” The shock on their faces gives her all the answer she needs. She smiles, and continues, “She’s down at the Cape, the quiet part past the rocks.” They thank her, but before they can leave she says, “Hey.” She looks at each of them intensely. 

“Make sure she gets there safely. Take care of her.” They agree solemnly, and head down the sidewalk. 

“And tell Chiron I say hi.” she says with a smile. They smile back, agreeing again. 

They get to the Cape, and it’s full of people. 

“Shouldn’t be any harder than a Where’s Waldo,” Leo says. Percy’s head snaps to the right, and thunder rumbles. 

“Did you hear that?” he asks. 

“The thunder? Yeah,” Annabeth says.

“No, no.. someone screaming.” 

“I don’t-” 

“This way,” he takes off towards a pile of jagged rocks. They manage to get over with only a few scrapes and Percy surveys the empty beach. 

“She’s here… She’s here somewhere,” he mutters to himself. The dark clouds part for a moment, and Annabeth points out to the water. Someone was there, pretty far out to sea. She could just make out their shoulders and head above the water. 

“Gods, Percy, can you get her to shore?” 

“Ah ah ah, uncle Leo’s got this one,” Leo pulls something out of his backpack. It’s bronze, and the size and shape of a deflated soccer ball. He throws it into the water. It starts to sink, then expands into a small bronze and wood speed boat. Percy and Annabeth’s jaws drop. He hops in, revving the engine to life.  They sail out over the water, Percy directing them around currents and waves. They can see the figure clearly now, and they’re sure it’s you. You’re looking away from them, out towards the darkening sky. The boat starts to slow down, and makes a whining noise. Their eyes dart to Leo.

“It’s probably just a sticky piston,” white smoke leaks from the engine, “... and I should check the coolant, too.” He opens up a panel, and starts to tweak a couple things. He sits on the edge of the boat to get a better angle, and reaches into his tool belt. He pulls out a wrench, and almost in slow motion, feels it slip between his finger tips, and into the water with a light plip.

“Shit!” He covers his mouth, worried he scared you off. Three heads turn to where you were a moment ago. Gone. He feels that familiar shameful heat creep into his stomach and cheeks. 

“Sorry guys, I-” 

“You dropped this,” He looks into the water, and you’re right next to the boat, handing him the wrench. 

“...Thanks,” he says, his heart speeding up. Your hair is wet and beads of water glisten on your skin. Your red bikini top sure isn’t doing anything to slow his racing pulse, either. Your hands brush as he takes the tool from you. You smile, and the clouds part - literally. A beam of golden sun shines behind you, making you glow. His heart is in his throat, and he knows he’s probably grinning and blushing like an idiot. 

Percy stares at your head, poking up over the side of the boat. Your hair is dyed shades of blue and teal and seafoam that blend right in with the water, but your roots are dark. He takes in your freckles, your tan lines, and your eyes… they look like part of the sea - shells, or waves, or something. He watches as Leo takes the tool, and a smile appears at the side of your mouth - the same smile he’s seen in the mirror, the same smile he’s seen on his dad. He sees all these familiar traits and knows it’s true, you’re his sister. The realization hits him like a truck, and he’s suddenly choked up. Annabeth sees this, and places a hand on his shoulder. She looks between Percy and an infatuated Leo, and takes the reins for the whole ‘the gods are real’ speech. 

“Hi,” she says, giving Percy’s hand a squeeze, “I’m Annabeth, this is Percy, and Leo. We were sent here to take you to a safe place for kids like us-”

“Ohmygod, finally,” the tension leaves your shoulders and you sigh in relief, “you have no idea how hard it’s been keeping all of this a secret, trying to be normal…” You push yourself up the side of the boat Ariel style, and pull yourself in, the edge of your tail draped slightly off the boat as you continue, “I seriously thought I was losing it for a while…” you trail off, watching them stare at your tail. 

“You’re not… you’re not merfolk, are you?” The confusion on their faces says it all. Panic rises in your chest as you start to dive off the boat. Before you can, Leo grabs your hand.

“Hey, hey, hey, it’s okay. We all have weird powers, it’s part of being a demigod.” He shows you his free hand, and flames suddenly dance across his palm. Part of your fear is replaced with confusion. 

“A what?” you ask. 

“A demigod.” you look over at Percy, who’s speaking since the first time since you’ve met him, “Our dad is Poseidon, god of the sea.” You scrunch your eyebrows, processing what he said. Annabeth smiles at the gesture, having seen her boyfriend do it a thousand times. 

“Wait… our?” He takes in a breath.

“I’m Percy, your brother.” 

The ride back to shore is a little awkward, to say the least. They had finished explaining about camp and the gods and monsters a few minutes ago, and it’s been pretty much silent since. Annabeth sits next to you, and hands you a water bottle. 

“He just needs some time,” she tells you quietly, “Poseidon’s not really supposed to have children, and Percy got a hard time for it when he was younger. He also… he thought his dad was really in love with his mom, so finding out he has a sister so close in age…” You nod in understanding. She pats you on the shoulder, and sits next to Percy at the back of the boat. You scooch up a little closer to Leo as gracefully as you can, which isn’t much, considering you have to drag along an almost 60 pound fish tail. Leo looks over at you from the controls. 

“Weird day, huh?” he asks. 

“Yeah…” 

“So how long does it take to, uh,” he nods down and you flick your tail, “de-fishify?”

You laugh. 

“Once I’m dry,” you look up at the summer sun reemerging, a little surprised that it hadn’t stormed. Then again, if children of Poseidon really could make sea storms, it made sense that it had died down now that you and Percy were feeling better. 

“which shouldn’t take long.” you finish. You look over at Percy, who’s having a quiet intense conversation with Annabeth. 

“He knows I didn’t ask for this, right?” Leo looks back at them.

“He does,” he replies. 

“It’s so surreal finding out I have a sibling I knew nothing about,” you mutter, mostly to yourself.

“Try finding out you have seven,” he laughs, shaking his head at the memory.

“Seven?!” your head snaps up to him. 

“Oh yeah,” he tells you the story of when he first came to camp, and you feel so much better already. Leo has such a comforting presence, the pain from all your problems softens a little just hearing him talk. You have a feeling you’re going to get a lot closer.

Little did you know, the feeling was mutual - and correct.

[nxrdist]

A/N: This is a one-shot for right now, but I may add to it later. The idea has been bugging me for weeks now and I had to write it! Hope ya’ll enjoy this even though I’m like 5 years too late to the party on Black Sails lol

Story Summary:  A year ago, Olivia was ship wrecked in Nassau by a late season hurricane on her way to the New World. As one of the few survivors of the wreck she's had to make her own way. Starting with no money and no prospects on a pirate controlled island can be hard, but there is much to be learned.

Words:3241

The sun had set hours earlier, but still, the salty Nassau air was thick and humid in an echo of the day's heat. It caused sweat to bead at the nape of Olivia's neck as she went around emptying mugs discarded on tables into her pitcher. Heat was one of the first things she'd had to get used to since arriving in Nassau against her will. Sure they had some warm days back in Scotland, but those were nothing in comparison. Often as she sat fanning herself, Olivia would lament the complaints she'd had about the weather in her homeland. Her former life there almost seemed to belong to someone else after a year here.

Sighing to herself, Olivia put the thoughts out of her mind as she went about her work. Most patrons had stumbled off some time ago, leaving her with her final duty of the evening. It didn't take long, and Olivia did her best not to dwell further on her unfortunate circumstances as she completed the chore.

There was, after all, not much to be done about it now. The hurricane that forever changed her life had been a surprise so late in the season. Once the ship had become caught in those tumultuous waters, there had only been so much the crew could do. In the end, they'd lost the battle against the vicious waves and torrential rain. The ship had bashed against a crop of rocks near the edge of the bay, leaving the few survivors stranded. It had not taken long to learn where exactly it was they'd landed -Nassau being rather notorious after all.

Placing the pitcher down on the bartop, Olivia looked for the bartender Mr. Le Goff to inform him she had finished, but he was nowhere to be seen. Frowning slightly, she hesitated. Usually, she would bid him good night before making the short trek to her small home. Tapping her fingers idly against the bar, Olivia glanced around for him again, her eyes eventually drifting toward the second floor. She could hear voices coming from the direction of Ms. Guthrie's office. Interrupting whatever the two might be discussing was certainly not something she had any desire to do, nor did she particularly wish to wait for them to emerge. Ms. Guthrie had been in a sour mood as of late. Nearly every time Olivia saw her, the blonde's features were tight, and she knew why. All the business with the whore from across the way and the pirates had become messy in recent weeks. 

Pirates , Olivia sighed.

When she'd realized where she was, Olivia had vowed not to become entangled with them, to keep her head down, and get out as soon as possible. It was difficult, though, when the main clientele at her workplace was precisely that sort. However, Ms. Guthrie's close association with the island's Captains certainly didn't help matters either. Before long, Olivia had realized pirates, while often more vulgar and violent at times than normal men, were just that -men. 

The footsteps startled her slightly, and Olivia spun in the direction of the disturbance. Emerging from the kitchen was a lanky bare-faced boy of about fourteen called Kit, who worked alongside the cook. Realizing he'd startled her, Kit smiled sheepishly.

"Sorry, Ma'm."

"Oh, it's quite alright," Olivia replied gently.

Kit was the quiet sort which was a surprise in a place like this, but he was a kind soul by her measure. Olivia had wondered a time or two how he had ended up there, but she'd never felt it proper to pry. He mainly kept to himself and was an excellent aid to the cook, so he often went unnoticed.

"Mr. Le Goff said to let you know it's fine to pop off once you've finished up."

Olivia arched her eyebrow slightly at the boy. "Did he?"

Kit nodded. "He left a short while ago -was muttering something to himself about his son when he left." With a soft 'huh' of understanding, she nodded. Unbidden, her eyes drifted back to the door of Ms. Guthrie's office curiously. If it wasn't Mr. Le Goff, then who was with her?

"It's probably that Captain Flint fellow," said Kit lowly.

For fourteen, he was awfully observant, but with how quiet he was, that should've been no surprise. Still, occasionally the boy made her feel like he'd read her mind. Or perhaps she was simply that easy to read; however, she would prefer to assume the latter.

Biting the inside of her cheek, Olivia nodded. "Well, I'd better get going. Are you alright on your own?"

Kit shrugged. Frowning, Olivia realized she didn't even know where the boy lived.

"Good night then."

"Good night Ms. Adair."

Out in the street, Olivia paused, glancing up at the sky. Twinkling stars looked back at her, mocking in their familiarity. Not being one for astronomy but still loving the stars, it was easy to convince herself she was looking at the same ones as were over her home, which of course they weren't. Scoffing at her own foolishness, Olivia focused back on the path before her. It wasn't far, but becoming too comfortable in a town infested with pirates would be an altogether different level of foolhardiness. So, she kept her hand poised to draw the short blade hidden in the folds of her skirts as she walked. 

The blade had been gifted to her by one of Ms. Guthrie's guards after an incident the second week of her employment at the tavern. Olivia had gone out back to use the outhouse when a drunken man had caught up with her. He'd unceremoniously grabbed her and started kissing her neck, but Benjamin had pulled the man off before it could go further than that. After knocking the man out, Benjamin had turned to her, taken a blade from his belt, and pressed it into her palm.

" Don't ever walk alone unarmed. " He'd warned.

And Olivia had taken that very much to heart.

At this time of night, the bustling town had quieted aside from the odd drunk struggling to find their bed. So, when Olivia heard the distinct sound of retching coming from an alley as she passed, it was no great surprise. Initially, she didn't even break stride; drunks were nothing if not messy and unpredictable, and outside of her job Olivia didn't much care for dealing with them. She was perhaps ten paces past the alley when scuffling and a loud grunt drew her attention, giving her pause. As she stood listening for any further movement, Olivia could hear a vaguely familiar voice grumbling to themself. Turning slightly to look back, she could see the form of a stocky man leaning heavily against the wall, looking very much like he was about to slide down it. It was difficult to see his face well in the dim light, but something about his outline was as familiar as his voice. Not that that was much of a surprise, Olivia'd gotten to know many of the locals since coming to Nassau. 

Against her better judgment, she stalled there in the street a few moments hoping, if nothing else, then to alleviate her curiosity. It wasn't long before the man exhaled a deep breath and turned his face toward the sky, allowing his profile to become illuminated by a lantern. Without even realizing it, Olivia let out a soft gasp. The noise, however, was enough to draw the man's attention, and he turned in her direction.

Olivia couldn't convince her body to move as the piercing gaze of Charles Vane fell on her. He held it for what felt like hours. It felt like he was staring into her soul until quite suddenly, he doubled over and began retching again. Without thought, Olivia rushed to his side, placing a hand on his shoulder and holding hair away from his face as he vomited onto the ground. When he finished, Charles wiped his mouth with his sleeve and wrenched himself away from her scowling. He said nothing as he turned his back on her and started shuffling down the street as if nothing had happened.

Scoffing at the absurdity of the situation, Olivia watched him go. It was the first she'd seen of the famed Captain in weeks -since Eleanor had, according to the gossip, swindled his ship and crew out from under him. To say she was a bit shocked was an understatement though Charles Vane was among the most feared and respected on the island. Seeing him so low bothered Olivia in a way she did not expect.

The first time she had seen the man was almost a year ago on the beach. New as she'd been to the sweltering Caribbean heat, a moment of weakness led her there in search of a place to swim. As Olivia made her way along the beach, a skiff landed a short distance from her, carrying Captain Vane and several others. Immediately Vane stood out, and even without knowledge of who he was, his commanding presence had struck her. As more of the Ranger's crew came ashore, Olivia'd thought it prudent to abandon her idea of a swim and head back into town, but the man on the boat stuck with her. Later that evening, he'd appeared at the tavern, and Olivia was unable to help asking Benjamin about him.

That man from her memory was so unlike the one she'd just encountered, and before truly deciding to do so, she was following Captain Vane towards the beach. Staying a fair distance behind, Olivia watched him and wondered. Could it be the loss of a ship and crew that brought such a man to this? Sure, she did not know him well. In fact, she hardly knew him at all aside from having served him at the tavern, but she could never have imagined seeing him like this. 

When they reached the beach, Charles made directly for his tent disappearing inside without delay leaving Olivia alone in the dark. A few dying fires still burned in some places along the shore, but the only light came from the stars for the most part, and she suddenly felt rather senseless at having followed him. Charles Vane, ship or not, was a pirate Captain, and she just a merchant's daughter. What on God's green Earth was she doing following him? Intoxicated or not, the man could easily kill her or worse. And she was what? Ensuring he made it unharmed to his bed?

Her self-berating was interrupted then by a soft groaning from inside the tent. Olivia bit her lip. Glancing between the tent flap and the path, she felt torn despite herself.  So much for staying clear of pirates,  Olivia thought spitefully at herself. Even with all the reasons she'd just thought of not to, Olivia reached out to open the tent flap.

Inside she found Charles lying spread-eagled on his back, staring unseeingly at the ceiling. He didn't so much as acknowledge her presence, and by his expression she imagined he was fighting the urge to empty his stomach once more. Looking around the tent, Olivia noticed several empty bottles lying on their sides, an opium pipe, as well as various other articles strewn about. In all, it was a mess, but she did notice a bowl with water and a rag lying beside it. Someone had been taking care of him somewhat recently, but tonight they were nowhere to be seen. 

Accepting she'd already gone all-in on this predicament she'd gotten herself into, Olivia knelt beside him. Despite her closeness, Charles's gaze remained fixed on the canopy. Either he was that focused or truly unaware, but she had a feeling it was a latter after the small gasp she'd made in the street grabbed his attention. So, Olivia proceeded with caution as she reached for the rag and dipped it into the waiting bowl. It wasn't until the cloth was about to brush his forehead that a hand shot out and grabbed her wrist, causing Olivia to stifle a yelp.

"What are you doing here?" His voice was deep and quite irritated as he questioned her.

A sudden boldness struck her at the rudeness of his tone. "Ensuring you don't drown in your vomit."

Turning to fix his gaze on her, he furrowed his brow in confusion. Up close, she could see just how glassy his eyes were. For a moment, she was unable to attempt pulling her wrist away or moving at all under his stare. Then he grunted and dropped his grip, breaking the spell.

She waited a moment before tentatively dabbing his forehead with the rag. When he didn't respond, she continued wiping the beads of sweat from his tanned skin. Exhaling a heavy sigh through his nose, Charles seemed to relax some. His eyes slipped closed, and when she pulled away to refresh the rag, he frowned.

"Why?" he murmured, barely above a whisper.

Olivia had a distinct feeling; he wasn't asking why she was there but felt compelled to answer anyway.

"Truly, I do not know." She paused, wringing out the rag slightly before returning it to his forehead. "I'm reckless, I suppose."

That was a true enough statement, she had chosen to stay on at the tavern even after learning of the more respectable -and markedly safer- employment possibilities further inland. 

He said nothing. Olivia was beginning to think he'd passed out when he reached out blindly to brush his fingers along her arm. She halted at his touch.

"Mmm, your skin, it's so soft," he breathed. "Missed it."

Her tongue felt stuck in her throat at his words, but she couldn't manage to pull away. Now Olivia was confident; he was not speaking to her, at least not in his mind. His fingers trailed along her arm tenderly a moment or two more before his hand dropped onto his chest.

There was only one person she could think of that Charles Vane might speak with such softness towards, and it made her stomach sick. When Olivia had first arrived in Nassau, Eleanor was in the midst of her affair with the Captain though it ended not a few months after. She'd thought it to be an ill-fated fling with how unconcerned either party seemed about its end, but now? Well, men didn't speak that way to whores, did they? Olivia didn't think so, which left only Eleanor. 

After that, Charles did not stir again aside from a few unintelligibly mumbled words, and eventually, she felt her eyes beginning to grow heavy. It had grown very late or early, depending upon perspective, in the time Olivia had spent tending the Captain. Having finished dabbing his face, she moved to his neck and exposed chest and did what little she could to clean the sick which had gotten on his shirt.

Blinking a few times, Olivia sighed. He didn't look all that much better than when she'd first seen him, but he'd been asleep a while with no sign of waking. Feeling as though there was little else she could do, Olivia got to her feet and went to exit the tent.

As she stepped out, Olivia had a strong feeling of being watched that made her hesitate to look back over her shoulder, but Captain Vane was still sleeping like a rock. Guardedly she peered about for the source of the feeling, initially finding nothing. Until she let the flap fall behind her, someone close by cleared their throat, making Olivia immediately draw her dagger. Spinning to face the source of the sound, she found a man with dark windswept hair holding up his hands in a sign of peace.

"Ah, don't be alarmed."

Olivia scowled, hissing as she lowered her dagger marginally. "And why shouldn't I? A man sneaking up on me in the dark, fairly alarming if you ask me."

The man cleared his throat and took a tentative step towards her which Olivia responded to by raising the dagger once more. He looked rather put out at her actions and sighed audibly.

"You're in the camp of Captain Charles Vane, don't you think if I were going to harm you, I'd have done so by now?" Reasoned the man.

Pursing her lips in irritation, Olivia had to admit he had a point, but it still wasn't enough to convince her to lower the dagger.

"I'm only curious, you see," he began again when she didn't respond.  "You've been in there for several hours-"

Olivia scrunched up her nose. "I'm no whore."

"No, I didn't think so, dear lady," he said. "I only mean, you've been taking care of the Captain, yes?"

"The way I've heard it, he's not exactly a Captain anymore." She paused. "And who're you?"

"Jack, Jack Rackham quartermaster of the Ranger," he said, straightening slightly with his words.

Olivia arched an eyebrow at him condescendingly.

"Well, formerly, but that's not the point." A beat of silence passed, only filled by the distant lull of the waves on the beach. "I saw you seeing the Captain to his tent. It left me wondering why a barmaid in Eleanor Guthrie's tavern would do such a thing."

Oliva frowned. It was the question she'd been asking herself. Having it posed aloud left her feeling uncomfortable, and she shifted slightly. She also found herself annoyed at being referred to in such a way. Yes, she worked in the Guthrie tavern, but it wasn't as if they owned her. Just because Eleanor had spurned, Captain Vane didn't make it forbidden for her to speak to him -not that they'd really spoken.  

"I am in no way accusing you, Miss," Jack said assuringly.

"You know," Olivia finally began. "That's not the first time someone's asked me that tonight."

Technically, Vane asking her why clearly hadn't been in regards to why she was there, but she'd asked herself enough times. And if she was honest, she knew the answer even if it didn't necessarily make complete sense.

"Truthfully," she breathed before raising her voice slightly. "I suppose I just couldn't stand to see a man like that so low."

As she spoke, her face twisted with confusion at her own words. Saying them out loud still didn't explain why she felt that way, but the truth in them was evident. Jack even nodded in a seemingly understanding manner at the explanation.

"Perhaps-"

But before he could say more, Olivia had turned her back and was striding away, still wielding her knife. Wisely, Jack chose not to follow, but he did watch her until she was out of sight -wondering.

In the days that followed, Olivia heard of the disappearance of Captain Vane and the acquisition of the local brothel by Mr. Rackham. She couldn't help feeling a sliver of spite towards Ms. Guthrie for the state of the Captain. Nor could she stop herself feeling mildly irritated at Mr. Rackham for possibly allowing some misfortune to befall the man. Outwardly Olivia carried on as normal, but in a quiet moment or two, she allowed herself to wonder if the Captain was alive. 

Eventually, she decided it was respect that had driven her actions that night. For all the things pirates were -thieves, murderers, or in some cases worse- there was something about Vane that Olivia respected. And with his disappearance, she may never know what that was.

Black Sails Taglist; N/A

Charles Vane Taglist; N/A

[let-love-run-red]

Never Shall we Die - 1

Ok loves, I’ve had this in my WIP folder for awhile. I wanted to do this one right, IE actually have a story planned before I published the first chapter lol. This is a first for me, and I hope you like it! Let me know if you’d like to be tagged loves.

Before we start, this story was inspired by the lovely @beskarbabs​ Pirate!kylo story Thieves and Beggars. It is absolutely wonderful, and I recommend checking it out and giving her some love!

AO3 link

Masterlist

Another government meeting in the largest house in Port Royal. You sighed, sitting in the chair at your father's side. Ever since Mama had died, you'd been attending the meetings she would have, sitting in her place, tracing the grain on the ornate table top and wishing for something else to do.

Today it was something else about the boats. About the pirates, about the merchandise being moved. More boring things. You were ten! you wanted to be out playing in the gardens and chasing your father's hunting dogs around the grounds, finding flowers that your mother would then braid into your hair while she sang to you.

The thought of it made you miss her all the more. The Scarlatina had struck her hard, taking her energy and your unborn sibling. She had been too tired to play, to sing to you, to love you. And you supposed that wasn't her fault, but you had been angry with her. Thought she didn't love you. You wished for her to be taken away, considered running away so she would realize how much she missed you. You were so angry that when the doctors said she didn't have much time, you refused to see her. What did they know?

You always regretted that, you thought. What if seeing her had made her want to stay? You supposed you'd never know. 

You looked up and realized your father was on his feet, shouting with another man in a fancy coat. He wouldn't notice your absence. You stood and walked towards the door, hiking up the skirt of your dress as you walked past the guards. They likely assumed you were headed to the chamber pot. Rather than taking a left down that hall, you continued straight, ducking out into the garden and sneaking out of the cracked wall, to the marketplace, where you did your most interesting people watching.

                                                 ***

"Blow high, Blow low, and so sailed we, the quarter that we gave them was to sink them in the sea, Sailing down 'long the coast of High Barbaree."  He sang quietly to himself as he walked down the streets of the markets. He tried to keep the drool in his mouth as he smelled the cooking meats and fresh fruits. He looked in all the stalls, thinking of how even one of those fish could feed him for a week. He stopped when he saw an unmanned stall, peeking over the edge to see what it contained. 

Corn, bushel upon bushel of fresh green corn, just lying there, unattended, begging him to take them. He felt his stomach rumble as he imagined what his mum could do with even one ear of corn. He thought of cornbread, and boiled kernels, corn pudding, and without thinking of the repercussions he snatched two ears and tucked them under his vest. 

He tried to hide the smile on his face as he walked down the street, trying to keep hold of the large vegetables. He hadn't realized the tops of the corn peeking out of the vest, and didn't notice until someone planted a large hand on his shoulder and spun him around.

"What have ye got there boy?" The man snarled, reaching into his jacket and pulling the ears of corn out.

"N-nothing." He stuttered, trying to squirm from the man's grip and reach for the corn.

"It sure don't look like nothing." The words were spat in his face as the man grabbed his arm and dragged him towards a pair of guards walking down the street towards him. He started trying to pull his arm away, kicking at the man and trying to go dead weight, but nothing worked. He couldn't be arrested, what would mum do? He grabbed the man's arm, pulling himself forward and sinking his teeth into his forearm.

The man shouted, dropping his arm and turning to smack him. He ducked under the fist, scrambling to his feet and running towards the only empty alleyway he could see. He wove through feet and dodged skirts and shoes, trying to put as much distance as possible between him and the guards. 

He finally ducked behind a stack of barrels in an alleyway, smacking his head into someone else's face.

"Hey!" She cried, standing up and glaring down at him. She couldn't have been much younger than him, maybe only a year or two. She was wearing a fancy pale blue dress with a shiny gold necklace on. A castle rat. He sneered, ready to snap at her when he heard the guards.

"Where'd he go?" They snapped to one another. He watched the girl turn, her (h/c) curled hair bouncing around her face. She opened her mouth and Kylo pulled her down by her arm. She landed in his lap and he wrapped an arm around her middle to pin her arms down, using his other hand to cover her mouth.

"Shh!" He hissed in her ear while she struggled against him. It wasn't until the guards had walked past, and she was trying to bite his hand, that he released her. She scrambled away from him, turning to fix him with a bewildered stare.

"What do you think you're doing!?" She snapped. Kylo pushed himself up to his feet, looking down at her.

"Running." He said.

"But it's hard when a castle rat is in your hiding spot." He snapped at her. She seemed taken aback at that.

"Were you running from the guards?" He was silent in response, looking around to make sure the coast was clear before walking out from behind the barrels. She followed him, pulling the skirts of her long dress up and trying not to trip over the cobblestone in her fancy heels.

"Are you a thief?" She snapped, running ahead of him. He pushed past her to walk down the street, weaving between people and hoping she would leave him alone.

He had no such luck.

"What did you steal?" She pestered him. He continued to ignore her as he walked, hands tucked into the pockets of his trousers while he tried to avoid stares from people.

"If you don't tell me, I'll get the guards." She said, catching up with him. He growled low in his throat, wishing she would go away.

"They're right there, they'll listen to me over you, I know it." She said. He finally snapped, grabbing her arm and pulling her into another alleyway.

"Corn! I tried to steal corn. I'm hungry. Now will you fuck off?" He asked. For the first time since he'd met her she was silent. He tried to walk past her when she gently reached out and tugged on his sleeve.

"I'm sorry you're hungry. Would you like me to get you something?" She asked. He looked back at her with furrowed brows.

"I'm the governor's daughter, I can take whatever I'd like, and the guards can't do anything." She said. He shook his head, trying to push past her again.

"Wait, please!" She called, following after him.

"What do you want?" He snapped. 

"I don't know." She said. He let out another sigh. He should have gone with the guards.

"You seem interesting." She said, looping her arm through his and leaning against him, the way his mother did with his father. Was it a lady thing? He wouldn't know. He resisted the urge to push her off as he walked through the streets towards the docks.

The two walked in silence. Well, he walked in silence, she rambled on and on about her father and what he did, how her mother had died, how she was important to the government, how she would grow up to marry the Commodore or some such nonsense. He was only half paying attention as they approached the docks. He admired the ships, both the small ones docked and the larger ones in the port that were too deep in the draft to come close.

"Did you hear me?" She asked, poking him harshly in the side. He winced and looked down at her.

"Have you ever been on a ship?" She repeated.

"No. I haven't." In truth, he wanted to be. He wanted to be sailing on a ship away from this wretched place. He wanted to take his mother and father and give them a better life somewhere else. Maybe to America, his father had taken them here, to Port Royal, in hopes of a better life. But they lived as peasants, scraping and begging for every last scrap of food. Maybe, if he had a ship, he could take them to the motherland. To Europe, or France even. But he was stuck here, on the docks, watching the ships come and go.

"I can get you on a ship." She said suddenly. He looked down to her with narrowed eyes and furrowed brows.

"What?" 

"I said I can get you on a ship. Do your ears work?" She asked, tilting her head.

"Yes my ears work just fine." He snapped. "What's in it for you?" He'd learned, nothing came for free in life. Especially not in Port Royal. 

She shrugged as she stepped forward. Her arm was still linked with his, so he followed her as she walked through the docks towards where the East India Trading Company ships were docked.

"I just want to know your name." She said. "And I'm bored, the ships always have interesting things going on." She said, walking towards the largest ship docked. It was named The Hyperion, and it was gorgeous. It was one he figured was to sail soon, it had been docked for a few weeks. 

The hull had been painted a rich navy blue, with the posts and rails a royal gold. The sails were a pristine white, every rope was in the proper place, and the men swarming about it had not a hair out of place. It was perfect in every way, the perfect ship.

He hadn't realized he'd broken into a smile until she commented on it.

"Wow, you're more excited by a ship than a pretty girl." She lamented, unlinking their arms. He hadn't moved as he inspected the ship.

"Want to go?" She asked, poking him in the side again. His jaw dropped as he turned to look at her.

"Can, can we?" He asked in disbelief.

"I told you, I'm the governor's daughter. I can do whatever I want to." She said with a grin. He rolled his eyes again.

"But!" She suddenly shouted, startling him.

"You have to tell me your name!" She finished. He let out a heavy sigh. He didn't care for her to know him, to be able to track him down and bother him further, but oh how he wanted to board that ship.

"Name, or no ship." She said, folding her arms like a petulant child.

"What are you, eight?" He snapped.

"I'm ten actually." She huffed indignantly.

"Fine. My name is Kylo." He said walking towards the ship. She grabbed the sleeve of his shirt and pulled him back.

"Last name too Kylo." She said. He kind of liked the way his name rolled off her tongue. It sounded smooth and elegant.

"Ren." He huffed. She grinned.

"Kylo Ren is a lovely name." She said, before turning to the ship.

"Wait a minute," Kylo called. She turned back to look at him.

"What's your name?" He asked. She laughed.

"You don't know my name already?" She poked him in the stomach. Why did she keep poking him?

"It's (y/n) (l/n). Now come on Kylo, we haven't got all day to sit around talking." She flounced off towards the ship, and Kylo tried his best to follow her closely without being noticed. 

She paused by the gangplank, waiting for the traffic up and down it to cease, before she dashed up it with surprising speed. Kylo had to actually run after her before she dragged him down behind a stack of crates near the railing.

"I thought you said you could do what you wanted?" Kylo hissed. She shushed him and nodded.

"Then why are we cowering behind crates?" He asked. She grinned sheepishly.

"Well, technically I'm supposed to be in a meeting with my father now. And they've likely noticed my absence." She said, glancing around. So she was running too? That intrigued him.

"Come on." She said, grabbing his shirt sleeve and dashing across the deck to the open hold and scurrying down the ladder. They were on the gun deck now, and she dragged him behind a cannon as a pair of the royal navy walked past. He turned, examining the cannon next to him. It was a demi cannon, it could probably fire a 15 kilogram solid shot straight through a pirate ship!

As he moved closer to it, (y/n) hissed at him to stop moving. He hadn't realized why until there was a sickening snap, and the demi cannon started rolling backwards into the walkway. He looked down to see he'd knocked the block from behind the wheel of the cannon. He ducked as it swiveled and almost smacked him in the face.

"Kylo!" (y/n) snapped as he scrambled backwards, bumping into the canon on the other side of her and sending that one rolling back too. There was a commotion on the upper deck as people flooded down to the gun deck, catching the cannons as the ship rocked lightly. They hadn't caused any damage, but Kylo knew that they could have, and that was enough to execute someone.

Strong hands grabbed him by the upper arms and dragged him to his feet. (y/n) stood, rushing towards the guards.

"Wait! Stop! Don't hurt him please!" She begged, trying to catch his shirt sleeve. The soldiers paused momentarily, before dragging him to the main deck. He heard the soldiers addressing (y/n) gently while they pulled him up the steps.

He was thrown, quite unceremoniously, before the captain of the ship. He looked up to see a face he recognized, Commodore Whiteford. He lowered his head, trying not to cry. He knew the punishment for stowaways, and it wasn't pretty.

"A stowaway Commodore, he tried to loose the cannons on the gun deck." The soldiers said. Kylo focused on the grain of the wood under his palms, willing it to be a fast execution.

"No! He's not a stowaway!" He heard (y/n) shout.

"Miss (l/n), what are you doing here? Everyone under your father's command is looking for you!" Commodore Whiteford snapped.

"I was exploring! He followed me onto the ship, it's not his fault, don't hurt him." She growled. Well, growled as much as she could. Commodore Whiteford looked at her with pity.

"Miss (l/n), you mustn't run off. Your father is worried sick over you. Come, my son will escort you back." Commodore Whiteford said, whistling shrilly. A lanky boy, older than Kylo, jogged over.

"Jackson, please make sure Miss (l/n) makes it safely back to her father." He said. The boy nodded, stepping forward and grabbing (y/n)'s arm harshly. She winced and let out a whimper. Something about the sound made Kylo's blood boil as he moved to stand up.

"Hey!" He shouted. No sooner than the word left his mouth did Commodore Whiteford have his rapier drawn with the blade pointed at Kylo.

"You will not address my son, street rat!" Whiteford snapped. Kylo cowered slightly before hearing (y/n) shout in pain. He looked over to see Jackson dragging her down the gangplank. She'd tripped and lost a shoe, allowing the splinters from the wooden plank to dig into the sole of her foot.

"You're hurting her!" He shouted. Before he could move he felt a searing pain across his face. He stumbled backwards, landing on his back on the deck. Blood dripped into his right eye, it stung. He lifted a hand to his face, brushing against the shred of fabric from the collar of his shirt. There was blood running down his face and soaking into his shirt from his chest. He couldn't breathe as it smeared across his hands.

"The mark of a stowaway, and treason." Commodore Whiteford snapped. He turned to the rest of the soldiers.

"Bind him, and drag him to the gallows. He is charged with attempting to pirate a ship of the royal navy." He growled. Kylo was too shocked to protest as the soldiers pulled him to his feet, shackling his arms behind his back with heavy iron cuffs.

                                                 ***

"Father!" You shouted, tears streaming down your face as the nurse wrapped your foot with wet linens. Your father was pacing in front of you, his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. Mum always said he'd get wrinkles if he kept making that face. But she wasn't there to tell him that anymore. He turned to look at you, kneeling down next to you and taking your hands in his own.

"(y/n), my sweet, he's been charged with attempted piracy, there is nothing I can do for him." He said, looking at you sadly. 

"He bears the mark of treason. Even if I could pardon him, there would be no life for him." He finished. You pouted and turned away from him.

"It was my fault." You whispered.

"What?" 

"It was my fault we were on the Hyperion in the first place!" You shouted in his face.

"Young lady, do not lie to spare the life of a peasant." He snapped at you. You looked at him, your own thin brows furrowed this time.

"I'm not lying! It was my idea, he was trying to leave, but I asked him if he wanted to see the ship! I didn't think there would be any harm, we weren't going to steal it, just look!" You tried to explain frantically. 

"Even if that's true darling, he's on the gallows march now. There is nothing to be done." He said softly.

"I will never speak to you again if he dies." You seethed. He let out a hefty sigh, rising to his feet and pacing again.

"You'll get over him my love." He said.

"No I won't! He's my friend!" You shouted again. Despite only spending a few hours with Kylo, he was one of your closest friends, well, friend that wasn't your cousin anyway. You thought of his crooked smile, his lips that looked so soft, and the long dark hair that had whipped around his face in the sea breeze. 

"I love him." You pouted. That stopped him dead in his tracks, and you knew you'd found your in.

"You what?" 

"I love him father! And if you let him die I shall never speak to you again! I'll follow mama to my grave and never speak another word to you!" You cried, willing the tears to fall again. You didn't realize it, but as the tears fell, your true feelings for the scrappy boy you'd lured onto the ship were spoken aloud.

Your father seemed taken aback as he watched you cry. The nurse had long since left the room, and he hissed lowly.

"My daughter will not fall in love with a peasant boy." You hoped you hadn't pushed him too far, this was Kylo's only chance.

"If I pardon him, you will never see him again, do you understand?" He snapped. You nodded frantically and he crossed the room, grabbing you by your arms and hauling you to your feet. You yelped as you put weight on your injured foot.

"Do you understand!" He yelled.

"Yes! Yes father, I understand." You cried in fear. He let you sit back in the chair, sweeping out of the room towards the stables. You followed him as quickly as you could on your injured foot.

When you caught up with the gallows march you easily spotted Kylo. He was the only child in the mix of adults. His shirt was ragged and his wrists bled from the iron cuffs. You had to resist the urge to gasp as you followed your father's white stallion on your small dappled gelding. 

"General, wait." Your father called as he pulled his horse to a halt. You kept your gaze trained on Kylo as he looked up, and your heart sank.

His beautiful face was now split by a long red scar that started above his eyebrow, and ended below his collarbone. There was blood smeared across his face and chest, soaking into his shirt. There were tracks streaked into the blood where his tears had cut a path through the redness. You resisted the urge to leap from your horse and run to him.

The general approached Kylo with the ring of keys, unlatching the shackles from around his wrists and ankles. Kylo hesitated, shaking slightly before your father rode towards him. Kylo balked slightly as the stallion stopped just short of running him down.

"You are never to see my daughter again. Do you understand me?" He hissed. Kylo nodded frantically, stepping backwards. Your father kicked his horse harshly, causing the stallion to rear slightly as it screamed.

"Go!" He yelled. Kylo scrambled backwards, falling onto his back and pushing himself away from the horses hooves as it landed again. He rolled over, pushing himself to his feet and running away from the gallows march, through the crowd, and out of your sight.

[meowdymista]

Van der Driscoll Pt 7

Part 6 - Masterlist

Part 8

This is a bit of a filler chapter, which is stupid for the ratio of original wording to in game script ratio. Next one will be more engaging, I promise. Also sorry for the long wait; I took time off from writing last week because it was my birthday, and then England swept into a second lockdown so it’s been poo trying to prepare especially in work because I process somms for small-medium businesses but whatever. No one is getting much for Christmas this year lol

****

You find, much to your relief and Arthur’s annoyance, that Sean’s chaotic charm and energy swallows everyone’s attention over the next few weeks. He’s loud, boastful and brash: The Irish Terrier as Arthur and his adopted fathers call him.

You can’t help but find his totally unapologetic nature comforting. Whilst washing shirts, you overhear him get Molly to admit she considers him no better than a chimney sweep from the local bog - and immediately crucify her for it, calling her “snotty nosed” and a “right little madam”, much to her dismay. After the weeks of dirty looks (despite little to no actual confrontation), Sean brings a breath of fresh air. With him nearby, you know exactly where you stand and whether anyone in the vicinity is plotting against you.

“Please, Y/N,” groans Arthur into his hands one evening. “Please tell me you ain’t makin’ friends with that bastard.”

“Why?” you ask, genuinely surprised. “Isn’t he like a little brother to you?”

“Yeah, but not in a good way.” He moves his hands to give you a look of despair. “What’s wrong with Lenny? Or Tilly? Or Mary Beth?”

“Karen’s fun,” you muse, earning yourself another groan.

“Always with the loud drunkards,” he grumbles.

“Mmhm, and what was it Dutch said? When you go missing he checks the saloon, and if you’re not there he checks the jail?”

“Shurrup.” He wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you onto his body, grinning as you protest, laughing.

“Don’t play innocent - Hosea’s been telling me stories!”

“Ahh, don’t go listening to him. He spins stories for a living, and anyway I was a kid in most of them.”

“And the stories I’ve heard from Lenny?” you smirk, still fighting despite it proving futile with you laughing so much. He growls, peppering your exposed skin with kisses as you wrestle playfully.

You cry out when a flailing limb makes contact with one of your swollen breasts. Arthur immediately releases you, watching you with concern as you try to rub out the punch without swearing.

“Y’alright?”

“Fine,” you huff. “Just sensitive is all.”

“I’m sorry - shouldn’t be playing so rough with you when you’re… in the way tha’ you are.”

“It’s fine, Arthur,” you repeat firmly, staring him down. “I’m fine. You didn’t knock my stomach, so we’re fine. Like I said, I’m just sensitive.”

He hums doubtfully.

Following a shootout with the Pinkertons and the law in the middle of Valentine, Dutch had ordered the camp out of Horseshoe Overlook and ushered you south east into the state of Lemoyne. On the other side of Dewberry Creek, Arthur and Charles had scouted a hideout chistened Clemens Point. Arthur hadn’t been the keenest to tell you that story, but you had weaseled it out of him.

Micah had recommended the dried out river bed, but when Charles and Arthur had arrived to scout it, there was an abandoned camp nearby, complete with a dead body. Whilst trying to assess the location’s risk to a group of outlaws should they move in, Arthur had moved some crates to find a woman with her two children.

“I guess I saw you,” he mumbled sadly, avoiding eye contact. “An’ the mess I might leave you in one day.”

You rubbed his shoulder patiently. “What happened?”

“I told ‘em to go ‘cause we needed the land.”

You were confused by the guilt still plaguing him and told him so. With a heavy sigh, he described how the girl translated her mother - that their father had been kidnapped and how it took Charles insisting otherwise to convince him to go look.

“So it’s really thanks to him we found this place,” he says gesturing at the open space bordered with woodland and lake.

If anything, you prefer this new destination to Horseshoe Overlook, and not just for the absence of bad memories. You love the sense of freedom swimming gives you: how it makes you weightless, how easy it is to tilt your head back and listen to the low rumble of the earth and water. You also enjoy that the road is more than a stone’s throw away here. A wanderer would have to purposely go out of their way to discover the camp, to hear the noise or see the light of the campfires. Clemen’s Point made you feel safe, even with the occasional canoe sailing by with a wave.

The new location lifted everyone’s spirits. So much so, Dutch dragged Arthur and Hosea out fishing. They returned hours later - singing and surprisingly sober - with deputy badges and a boat load of fish. Whilst the shiny badge continues to earn Arthur a lot of gib from you and everyone else in camp, Dutch insists the news is beyond fantastic.

“We are inaugurated in the local law!” he cries during one of his many speeches. “Hiding in plain sight!”

Still tired and snacking throughout your waking hours, you are relieved to find your morning sickness has passed its peak. Whilst you feel like your veins are popping out of your skin, Arthur insists your stomach is beginning to curve. You accuse him of an overzealous imagination until you try (and fail) to button the jeans from your past life as an O’Driscoll and your shirts that still fasten offer little to no breathing room.

“Think a trip to town is in order.” You jut out your bottom lip, demonstrating the distance between the buttons and their corresponding holes as your lover looks on laughing.

“I think you might be right.” You don’t resist as his fingertips tilt your chin up to plant a kiss on your lips. “Let me go see if Pearson’s got a list and we’ll head out. Think they’ll do another couple hours?”

“Don’t really have a choice,” you grumble, stealing Arthur’s worn blue shirt from under the cot. You can hear Sadie and Pearson bickering even from the edge of camp, so it doesn’t surprise you when Arthur’s tone cuts through the noise.

“-ain’t cooking work?”

Looking over, you see Arthur has taken the expostulating Mrs Adler aside. You look away quickly - there’s no reason to ruin an acceptable day by agitating her enough to start shouting at you too. Her and Pearson have been at each other’s necks since she’s pulled herself out of the worst of her depression, almost as though he has become the target of her grief.

You focus your attention on preparing the cart. A trip to town means a trip for supplies, and with so many mouths to feed, horseback wasn’t a viable option.

"How are you, Miss?"

You turn around, surprised at being addressed directly by someone other than Arthur. Seeing Kieran’s familiar pastiness relaxes you a little. As an ex-O’Driscoll himself, you trusted him the most not to stab you after Arthur and the little boy, Jack.

"Fine," you reply flatly, brushing out the tangles of the shire’s mane.

"We ain't really had much time to talk since we was in Tall Trees a few months back, have we?" You hum in response, trying not to flash any amount of flesh by moving too much. The poor boy was skittish enough. He immediately begins to help you, being the horse fan he is.

"I never even suspected a thing, Miss,” he gushes. “So I bet you anything Ol' Colm won't have neither."

"So you two were close, huh?" You barely contain the sarcasm.

He shrugs off the question awkwardly. "Which feller was you again?"

"Well I must’ve been good if you have to ask." You feed the shire a carrot, avoiding eye contact. "I was Thomas," you admit quietly. The following silence is prolonged. Doubtful.

“Thomas Donoghue?” You shrug your shoulders. “So you were friends with Paeder then?”

“Peter?” You respond coolly. “Never knew him.”

He opens his mouth as if to argue, but Arthur is marching across camp, shouting back over his shoulder to Mrs Adler. Spooked, Kieran bolts to a safe distance, doing nothing but look on as Arthur helps you up onto the back of the cart.

Acknowledging you with a sneer, the other woman takes her place on the bench up front. “So I’ve graduated from choppin’ vegetables to shopping?”

“Shut your goddamn mouth…” grumbles Arthur, reins in hand as the cart moves off. You give Kieran a small, apologetic wave farewell, but it’s difficult to contain the relief of your companions’ timing. Paeder was a private matter, and one which you had no desire to discuss out loud. You’re sure the shaky man meant no harm, but some things were better buried.

“You cooled down then, yet?” Arthur asks the widow, distracting you from your thoughts.

“I guess,” she grumbles. “And I ain’t no scullion! And I sure as hell ain’t takin’ orders from that sweating halfwit!”

You can almost hear his eyes roll. “Well I guess we all gotta do our share, princess.”

“Where’s that letter?”

“Oh, you reading his mail now?”

Sadie throws him a dirty look. “Robbing and killing’s ok, but letter reading’s where we draw the line?”

You stifle a smirk as Arthur pulls it from the inside of his coat, knowing he’s been had. “Here.”

“Dear Aunt Cathy-”

“You are somethin’ else…”

“I haven’t heard from you in some time, so I prayed to the Lord above that your health has not deteriorated further… bla bla bla… s’boring… Oo! Wait a sec, listen to this! Since we last corresponded, I have travelled widely, making no small name for myself.” You all laugh out loud. “Before you ask, I am still yet to take a wife, but I can assure you it is not for lack of suitors.” Arthur barks out laughing again as Sadie giggles. “He ever actually talked to a woman he ain’t paid for?” she asks in disbelief.

“Look, we’re all hiding behind something.” Whilst his tone advises the limit of fun has been reached, the smile is still audible.

“And what’s this? Return to Tacitus Kilgore?”

“Oh that? That’s Dutch’s idea. All mail to be sent to the same alias. Whenever we set up somewhere new, Strauss, he heads into town, tells them to start expecting mail from a Tacitus Kilgore or whatever they changed it to… Here, gimme that back. We got work to do.”

You all sit quietly as the cart rolls into Rhodes. The locals watch you, wary of the unfamiliar faces, but you keep your head high. Strangers smell weakness. It’s better to come off aloof and avoid trouble than to present as vulnerable and be beaten down at every turn.

“Ok, here we are.”

“So what’s the plan?” Mrs Adler points a pistol at the side of the building, squeezing one eye shut as she gauges the iron sights. “I shoot the shopkeeper, while you-?”

“No! You insane?”

“Well I thought we was outlaws…?”

“Outlaws! Not idiots!" he hisses, pushing down the gun as he looks around for any witnesses. "We rob fools that rob other people! These people- they’re just tryna get by! So you head on in there, and you buy us some food to eat. And no guns.”

“Are you sure?”

“This time.” The two of you share a look again as he helps you down. “There’ll be plenty o’ time for killin’ soon enough.”

“What are you doin’?”

“I’m gonna go check the mail, nothin’ exciting.”

Sadie shrugs and saunters off. Arthur sighs and shakes his head, touching your arm. "You gonna be alright?"

"Here's hopin'."

"Any trouble, holler. Stay outta her way best you can though, alright?"

Knowing that his concern lies with your companion's open hatred for anything remotely O'Driscoll rather than your ability to defend yourself, you nod. Blowing him a cheeky kiss, he waves back at you with a grin as you enter the general store.

"-flour, oats, salt, eggs, apples if you have them..."

"Sure, not a problem,” responds the shopkeeper as he begins to gather the goods. “Big family, have you?"

"Somethin' like that." Mrs Adler barely spares you a glance as the titter of the doorbell announces your presence. "And you sell clothes?"

So Arthur had explained to her your purpose for the journey. You're flattered, if a little bewildered at this kind gesture. From the looks she’s been giving you, you’re surprised she has buried the hatchet of your past so quickly.

"We do. Not the widest range of ladies fashion, I'm afraid."

"That's alright. I'll look at everything you got."

"Of course, Mrs…?"

"Kilgore," she smirks, turning to bat her eyelids at you. You realise then that her request is completely unrelated to you. Why wouldn’t it be? You’re not the only person that has been swept into the Van der Linde gang with little more than what you were wearing on your back. From Arthur’s story, she escaped with nothing more than her wedding ring and her nightclothes, so it’s only natural that she is also in need of a new wardrobe. "What? You don't even trust me to handle the shopping by myself?"

"You're not the only one in need of new clothes, Mrs Ad- Kilgore." You force a polite smile at the sales clerk whilst Mrs Adler browses the shelves dully. "What are the biggest sizes you have in stock? Any maternity wear by chance?"

"Ain't many women round here makin' babies," he sighs, pulling out a few options. You can feel Sadie's eyes burning past you at the pile. "You're best tryin' Saint Denis or ordering outta the catalogue. There's a tailor in Blackwater I heard is pretty good for that sorta thing, but it's quite the journey-"

"Too far for me, I fear." You flick through the pages as Mrs Adler leaves to try a few things on from the pile in front of you. Writing a quick list with estimated sizing, you purchase the largest button up shirt and skirt for sale. The trousers will have to wait for another day - you know investing twenty dollars in a pair that you'll breach the waistline of in a matter of weeks is a luxury you can't especially afford right now.

Mrs Adler on the other hand spares little expense with a sturdy pair of jeans. Finally out of the cumbersome skirts, her whole character changes and suddenly you feel the same pit of dread you did when faced with a full camp of spitting Van der Lindes all those weeks ago.

Intimidated, you step outside whilst she settles the bill. You take a short wander up the main road, taking in the familiar buildings with apathy. Who would have thought you would end up here again? Now you’re not so apprehensive about your life span, you can see how rundown this dusty crumbling town is. The few shops that are open have seen better days, and the best kept building is the bank. You feel your skin crawl as you spot the large parlour houses on the horizon. Of course this place is struggling to survive - anywhere that profited from slave labour deserved to rot. Part of you hopes it’s slow perilous march to abandonment continues: it would be disappointingly merciful to see a place be lost to one good shoot out.

“I’ve birthed foals with more strength than you!” Mrs Adler’s cursing sinks your stomach as you navigate your way back to the store where a man is helping her load the cart. “Hell, my sister’s newborn had more strength than you and he came out bright blue!”

“I’m trying.”

“Try harder!”

Spotting Arthur, who is strolling back himself, fills you with relief. The shopkeeper walks back to the porch, checking the list before walking back. “I think this is everything,” he says, swinging the sack of salt on the cart.

“Thanks… here, take that for yourself, okay.” She flicks a silver coin and he catches it out of the air, scowling.

“Thanks,” he spits.

“Well, give it back then! Jesus! I didn’t ask for his goddamn help..." She pushes the sack on more securely to stop it rolling off when the cart moves. “OK, get on. I’m about done here.”

“Why don’t you drive?” suggests Arthur coolly after making sure you’re sat safely amongst the supplies. “C’mon lady, get a move on.”

She scowls as she takes the reins. “I like Sadie, not lady.”

“I know. So you get everything?”

“I think so.”

“And some… new clothes, I see?”

“Don’t start,” she sighs, the heat returning to her voice. “I can wear what I damn well want. Like I told you, my husband and I shared all the work. I wasn’t some little wife with a flower in her hair baking cherry pies all day.”

“Yeah, I don’t doubt that. You sure look the part now. Won’t be long before you’re smoking cigars and playin’ the harmonica.”

“I’ll have you know I used to love playing the harmonica before… well… my house and everything I owned got burned to the ground.”

“I know... I’m real sorry. About what you… you know. Maybe I’ll keep my eye out for another one.”

“I don’t want no pity,” she snaps. “Just… treat me equal and know… nobody’s taking nothing from me ever again.”

Arthur hums in comradery. “Just don’t kill the camp cook…”

A horse gallops up alongside you. “Hey there! What are you folks up to?”

“Just heading home,” says Arthur casually, adding a quiet “keep it cool, Sadie”.

“You’re in Lemoyne Raider country. You need to pay a toll to pass through here.”

“No, I don’t think so.”

“You don’t think so?” The hairs on the back of your neck prickle at the anticipation of conflict. You realise with a sinking stomach that you’re completely unarmed. “How about you pull over right now?”

“Pull over?” he repeats incredulously. Your eyes scan the bags and boxes around you. There has to be something here that can double as a weapon of some kind.

“That’s what I said.”

“Hey!” calls Sadie coolly. “How’s about this?”

A pistol cracks and the Lemoyne Raider cries out in pain. She ushers the horses on with a Go, go, go! as Arthur stands up, drawing his revolvers and firing. You duck down as bullets fly over your head, your hands scrambling for anything that could be of use.

“What the hell was that?” cries Arthur furiously.

“They was gonna rob us!”

“A new pair of pants and you think you’re Landon Ricketts!” He curses loudly as more men run out in the road ahead.

“I’m gonna run this son of a bitch down!” she shouts, pulling the wagon over one raider and off the road.

“Well you wanted to see some action, lady, now you got your wish!” Arthur slings his longarm from his back and shoves it in your direction as he continues to fire. You can see more men coming out from between the trees and you take aim, knocking them down one by one as Arthur clips off any extras over your head.

“You alright there, Sadie?” you shout over the gunfire. Arthur is still firing behind you, but she’s out of your line of sight from where you’re crouched behind sacks of grain.

“Of course! You think I can’t handle these fools?” You don’t retaliate and you can almost hear her voice aim at Arthur. “Told you I could shoot a gun, didn’t I?”

“I don’t remember asking you to prove it,” he grunts, tossing you extra ammo just in case. The last bastard is fleeing south down the dirt track. You take aim, but he’s out of range.

“Yeah you run, you goddamn coward!” screams Sadie before taking a steadying breath. “I think we’re good here. Nice shooting. I’ll drive us back-”

“No! Pass those reins here!”

“Why?”

“Because you’ve caused enough trouble already.”

She doesn’t find grounds to argue, instead looking back at you, her face straight and unreadable. “We showed those bastards, huh?”

“Remind me not to get on your bad side,” Arthur scowls.

“They was clearly plannin’ to bushwhack us!” she argues, facing forward again.

“You did good, but that’s a lotta mess to make near camp. Hope it don’t bring anyone sniffin’ around.”

“Are you gonna tell Dutch?” she asks mockingly.

“Maybe… if he asks. But, maybe not.”

“So who did they say they were? Lemoyne Raiders?”

“Yeah, somethin’ like that. Who knows… Anyway, don’t you go ribbing Pearson about that letter.”

“How dare you? I wouldn’t dream of it!”

“Riiight, you wouldn’t…”

“I have travelled widely, making no small name of myself…”

Arthur laughs. “I won’t be giving you no mail to post any time soon, that’s for sure.”

She chuckles too. “I just wanna peak in that journal of yours. The mind boggles.”

“Not a chance…”

“You didn’t get yourself killed then, Miss Adler?” calls Pearson, strolling over smugly as Arthur pulls up near the horse station.

“Not quite,” she responds truthfully.

“Well, I’d like to say I missed your refined conversations, but I’d be lying.”

She accepts the box shoved into her chest without complaint. “I… I enjoyed myself out there.”

“Yes, we err… Mrs Adler did ok!” He holds up his arms and lifts you down gently by your waist.

“At shopping?”

“Yes, at shoppin’...”

The double meaning doesn’t go unrecognised by Sadie who thanks him with genuine gratitude.

“Don’t mention it. I would ride with you again, Mrs Adler, if you will ride with me.”

“Maybe,” she laughs. “If you prove you can handle yourself.”

“Well, they say I lack finesse, but I ain’t afraid of gun smoke.”

“We got this, Arthur. You’ve already done me a big favour today.” Turning to you with a smile, Arthur accepts the repeater you proffer. It’s best to remain unarmed for now - there’s no need to risk one of your lesser fans finding an excuse to regard you as a threat. “Okay, Miss High and Mighty. And… nice pants by the way.”

“You okay there, Y/N?” He wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you in close to his side. “You manage to find something too?”

“Just about,” you admit. “Had to put in an order. How long do you think we’ll be around here for?”

“Until we can’t most likely. Everything alright? They didn’t catch you or nothin’, did they?”

“Of course not, Arthur.” Your weak smile is genuine and heartfelt at his concern. “I’m not above shouting when I’m shot.”

“‘Course not.” He rubs your back, leading you back to your shared tent. “You gonna try them on, or what?”

“Nah, I figure I might as well make the most of still being able to fit in this stuff, even if it’s only for a few more days.”

He laughs, pulling you into a big hug. “Fair enough.”

From under his arm, you spot the rousing attention of Herr Strauss nearby. You nudge him in warning, but it’s too late.

“Ah, Herr Morgan! How are you enjoying yourself out here?”

“Well enough, I guess,” he replies gruffly. “And you?”

“Well, it turns out the pursuit of freedom is not a cheap business. Not for us, and not for some of the locals.”

“Sharking, already?”

“I prefer to call it banking.”

“You ain’t the one handing out the beatings,” snarls Arthur.

“No, but I am the one feeding the women and children in the camp,” he retorts. “What choice do we have, Mr Morgan?”

Arthur sighs. “Ah, I don’t know. Well, come on then! Tell me who…”

You stop listening as Strauss reads off a list of names, and only tune back in to hear Arthur ask how many he expects to be able to pay.

“With enough encouragement, both of them!” he chuckles, his black eyes twinkling from behind the round spectacles.

Sighing, Arthur returns to where you’re sat on the camp bed. “I’m sorry, darlin’. I’d best be gettin’ on.”

“Don’t worry about it.” You stand up to kiss him. “The gang comes first.”

He grimaces at that, but doesn’t dispute it. You give him another kiss for good luck and wave him out camp before dropping the flaps, not missing the glare of bitterness from Sadie across camp.

[sincerelyreidburke]

Boy Scout Dex drabble time!!!!!! (S/o @bitsfordays for talking this through with me like 10 days ago and creating this concept in my head)

Anyway, CCU, Nursey goes home with Dex for senior-year Thanksgiving, let’s have a field day.

//

It’s not that Derek is scared of Will’s parents.

After all, he’s met them before. He’s pretty sure the first time he met them, at least distantly, was Family Weekend freshman year. They know who he is, and they’ve always been nice to him. When he first met Will, he was sure that he came from the type of family who would cast judgement on him without knowing anything about him, based only on the way he looks. He’s known plenty of those types of people— at Andover, back home in New York, even at Samwell. It’s a part of life. He was sure that Will came from that type of environment.

But he was wrong. Three years later, it turns out, there are a lot of things about Will he was wrong about.

And so here he is, spending Thanksgiving with the Poindexters in Maine.

He should be okay. He shouldn’t be intimidated. After all, he isn’t scared of them. They’re kind people, and he knows it full well. They were the ones who extended the invitation, who wanted him here, to share their family holiday with them.

It’s just… the way they invited him, as Will’s friend, and what he actually is to Will, these days, are two different things.

It’s okay, though. Derek knows how to stay firmly closeted around people who can’t know. This is nothing new. It doesn’t make it easy, but at least he knows how to do it.

The point is: he’s not afraid of Will’s parents. But he does sort of care an awful lot about what they think of him.

Not that he’d admit it. At least, not to them, or to Will, or to anyone, really— except maybe Chowder, a few drinks in at a kegster, spouting off anything and everything about all of his love for Will and hope for their future. But he’s not so sure that telling Will he’s been anxious for days about making the right impression on his potential future in-laws (God, he hopes) would be the best idea. He’ll tell him later, maybe.

He has to get through this Thanksgiving break first.

So when Mrs. Poindexter is giving him the tour of the house upon his first arrival, he’s on high alert.

Chill Mode is a hundred percent activated; it’s in overdrive, in fact. He trails her, a short lady with strawberry blond hair who he’s pretty sure is simultaneously the sweetest thing ever and also the most likely person to kick somebody’s ass given the opportunity. She brings him to the bedroom he’ll be staying in, to drop his stuff— Will’s room, the one he used to share with his brother; there are still two beds, Mrs. Poindexter explains, because Drew only moved out a few years ago, which works out just great for you two, doesn’t it?

(Ha. Derek wonders if he can get away with some funny business once the bedroom door is shut tonight. He’s not sure he wants to test the waters with Will’s parents, but then again, if he was extra careful to keep Will quiet…)

Not the point, not the point. Derek is chill. He’s doing the tour of Will’s childhood home, the space he grew up in, trying to see all the imprints of his memory in the worn floorboards and the old furniture. “You have a lovely home,” he tells Mrs. Poindexter in the living room. She smiles at him like this is the best thing he could’ve said.

“Well, thank you, Derek,” she replies, gracious and kind. “It’s nothing all too fancy, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Derek shrugs, flashing an effortless smile, and replies, “Fancy is overrated.”

Mrs. Poindexter chuckles. Over his mother’s shoulder, Derek watches Will as his face washes with relief. Derek knows what he’s thinking. This is going well.

Derek hunts for more things to compliment, and his eyes land on a series of photos on the wall next to the fireplace. “Oh!” he says, with a smile, as he steps towards them. One of the pictures features Will in a cap and gown, in what Derek recognizes as the front yard of this very house. “Will, was this your graduation?”

Will nods, and so does Mrs. Poindexter. “It was a beautiful day,” she remarks. “And look at the weigela in bloom right behind him; aren’t they nice?”

Derek nods like he has any idea what plant she’s talking about. There’s a big pink bush over Graduation Will’s left shoulder, so he’s guessing it’s that. “They’re great.”

“We’ll need another one soon,” Mrs. Poindexter hums, with a smile, and then puts her hands up in a frame shape like she’s imagining just where it’ll go on her wall. “When you boys finish this year.”

“God, Ma,” Will mumbles, with a smile that might be real or might be forced. “Not so fast. We’ve still got over half a year.”

Mrs. Poindexter laughs. “I know,” she replies. “I’m just teasing. But it’s gone by so fast, hasn’t it?”

Derek catches Will’s eye, and answers for both of them. “Quicker than anything.” He pauses, smiles at him. “But it’s been a good run.”

Will smiles back, just a tiny bit, and then looks back at the pictures as if they aren’t on the wall in his own living room in the house he lives in. Derek follows suit, and this time, he catches sight of one below the graduation one, of Will with just his parents in some kind of banquet hall.

Derek squints at the picture. He does a double take.

What is Will wearing?

It’s…… he’s in some kind of a sailor outfit. It’s white on the top and bottom, with a hat and a dark necktie and a bunch of pins or maybe patches near the collar. His parents are in regular dressed-up clothes, his dad in a suit and his mom in a dress, and they both look as proud as can be.

Derek looks between picture-Dex and the Dex next to him, who is in distinctly non-sailor clothing, just a trademark flannel and jeans. Dex looks younger in the photo, but not that young. It’s from high school, for sure.

“Will,” he says slowly. “Is there a story behind this picture?”

Will looks where he’s looking, and then pauses to look right at Derek, like he’s trying to figure out if Derek is about to make fun of him. During his silence, Mrs. Poindexter chimes in. “Oh, that one!” She smiles huge, the trademark of a proud mother. “That was his Quartermaster ceremony.”

Derek looks back at the picture. Steadily, the joy of this fascinating new discovery about the man he’s been in love with for 2+ years starts to register. There is a story behind this picture. And he thinks he’s about to hear it. “Quartermaster?”

Will lets out a gentle sigh, tucking his hands into his pockets, and says, kind of unceremoniously, “I was a Boy Scout.”

This, Derek was aware of. Will occasionally makes cracks about being prepared or lets an offhanded comment loose about his scouting days. But Derek hasn’t ever heard a word about quartermasters, whatever they are. And he definitely hasn’t seen this sailor outfit.

He looks at the picture. Will looks cute. Cute enough that he’s feeling some type of way about it. His hair is a little long— at least, long for Dex; it’s still short in general— and it’s sideswept a little under his hat, from which his ears stick out underneath. His necktie is just a little crooked to one side. Even his shoes are white.

He looks like some kind of old-timey boat guy. And Derek is kind of thinking he needs to show the group chat immediately.

“I feel like you should tell me more,” he replies, grinning up at Will.

Mrs. Poindexter nudges Will from the other side. “Oh, darling, you should,” she says. “You’ve never told Derek about scouting?”

“Oh, I’ve told him,” Will replies, but his tone is fully conscious of the fact that she’s going to have him tell Derek again, and Derek has literally never been more pleased with a situation.

He pulls out his phone, snaps a picture of the picture, and saves it for later.

For now, he’s going to hear this story.

BONUS:

Samwell Men’s Hockey 2017-18

Nursey sent a photo to the group

Nursey: everybody

Nursey: PLEASE look at my boyfriend

Nursey: i am a.) dying, and b.) also in love

Dex disliked a photo

Dex: Stop being corny on main

Chowder loved a photo

Chowder: omg!!!!!!!!!!!

Chowder: dex where is that from!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Ford loved a photo

Ford: DEX WERE YOU IN ANYTHING GOES?

Dex: Looooool, no. Sea Scouts.

Dex: Like Boy Scouts but w/ sailing.

Tango emphasized a photo

Tango: tahts so cool???

Chowder: dex how come i never knew this!!!!!!!!!!!

Nursey: to be fair i also didn’t know this until like 20 minutes ago

Nursey: lol

Hops: Omg you look like sailor moon!

Dex: I wish I knew what that meant

Nursey: hops you’re my hero

Hops: Thanks nursey!

Hops: :D

Nursey: guys i can’t even

Nursey: he looks so cute

Ford: This is the greatest thing I’ve ever seen.

Bully: nothing but respect for MY captain

Nursey: OH CAPTAIN MY CAPTAIN

Chowder: sailor dex sailor dex sailor dex!!!!!!!!!

Ford: Brb changing group chat photo

Nursey: ily ford

Chowder: we should put this on shirts!!!!

Louis: Dexy the sailor man

Dex: Derek, Im going to blcok you

Nursey: love you bby

Dex: GROSS

Rhodey: is group chat flirting a fine

Bully: It should be

[fanficflaneuse]

One Day - Part 10

A/N: Dear magical tumblr friends, we’ve reached part 10. I’m sorry if it’s not that good. I was really excited to write it, but today I had to do a bunch of things for my graduate applications and it was just hectic. Still, it is Draco Malfoy’s birthday and I didn’t want to let the day pass without uploading a big, nice chapter. I hope you like it either way. 

Also, before we start, I feel the need to express my utter love for Theo Nott and Astoria Greengrass lol. I don’t hate them. In fact, if anyone wants to recommend some Theo Nott fanfiction, I’m all for it.  

Let’s do this! 

Draco x reader (she/her pronouns) Word count: 1921 Summary: One day AU. Post-war. Since The Battle of Hogwarts, Draco and y/n meet one day a year.

Masterlist 

Enjoy! 

3 May, 2009

“What is this?” Draco asked in awe, motioning to (Y/N)’s hair.

“It’s my take on the French bob,” she answered playfully.

Every time he saw her, Draco found (Y/N) more beautiful than before. This time, though, he swore she was actually glowing. She had gotten a haircut and now her locks framed her face differently. She dressed so…French now, which he found adorable and incredibly sexy. And her smile was bigger and brighter than he had seen in years. In general, this version of his best friend made him feel like a teenager again.  

Draco had been postponing this trip for weeks now. They had not addressed the issue yet, (when had they ever?) but everyone knew that the moment one of them reached out for the other, things would finally be settled. Their friends were tired of seeing them clumsily stumble through their feelings. That’s why Astoria took Scorpius to the Nott’s chalet on the Swiss Alps and practically forced him onto a train to Paris.

Astoria and Draco were not exactly the closest friends, but they had a son together and for his sake they maintained a more than civil relationship. She had settled down with Theo Nott, marrying him just after the divorce was finalized. They were happy together and she wanted his son’s father to move on as well. She was not only moved by a sense of guilt; deep down, Astoria had always known that the connection Draco and (Y/N) had was deeper than she would ever comprehend.

Whatever the case, the feeling of elation that washed over him as they held each other at Gare du Nord made him grateful for being alive again. He had butterflies in his stomach and a tingling all around. As if their bodies were connected, (Y/N) could also feel something electrifying. They hugged for the longest time, as if they weren’t in a crowded station with people rushing around.

(Y/N) and Draco walked arm in arm to her apartment in Montmartre. He still had a lot of questions about muggles, so she enjoyed pointing things out for him as they strolled. He had been to Paris countless times in his childhood and even once with Astoria, but this felt different. Walking with (Y/N), listening as she told him about the things she did every day, the places she frequented and the muggle history behind them felt like a dream come true. (Y/N) was very excited about taking him to a bunch of places and she numbered cheerfully all of the activities she had planned for them. Draco wished he could live in this moment forever.

“So, you’ve been consistently on the Prophet’s Best Seller list for almost a year and now you’ve won the Beedle the Bard literary prize. Don’t you dare to forget about your commoner friends, (Y/L/N),” he teased.

“You’re hardly a commoner, Healer Malefoy,” she taunted back, using the French translation of his last name.

Draco rolled his eyes playfully. “But really, you’re conquering the world one book at a time and I cannot be prouder…of myself for still having your original poetry saved somewhere at home.”

(Y/N) snickered. “I guess magical readers like the flavour of muggle literature. ‘That Kafka fellow? An absolute genius’,” as she quoted him playfully, Draco’s heart flipped.

When they reached the apartment, Draco observed everything in astonishment. Each little detail around the house embodied her. From the towers of books that flooded the flat to the position of the sofa by the fireplace, the rickety spiral staircase leading to the second floor, the creamy colours of the walls, the muggle paintings – she would later call them ‘impressionist’ –, the huge windowpanes and the mismatched yet harmonious furniture, it was all her. Draco had never seen a place represent a person so well. Even more surprising was the feeling that invaded him as soon as he set foot inside; he sensed that he had finally arrived home. He was Odysseus returning to his beloved Ithaca and he never wanted to set sail again.

They goofed around for a while, talking nonsense as they drank some very expensive wine. They danced around the room, enjoying the different layers to muggle music. Lately, (Y/N) had got then both hooked on muggle jazz. Draco relished greatly how the music seemed to pierce through them as they swayed around the room.

As the sunset painted the sky with colourful swirls, Draco stood by the window, observing the rooftops, the quaint streets and the Eiffel tower at a distance. (Y/N) took in his form. He looked much better. He stood taller; his shoulders no longer sagged forward in defeat. The bags under his eyes were practically gone. She could tell he was eating more. And he seemed generally happier. It made her smile.

“Are you sure you don’t want to go anywhere tonight?” she asked softly, walking towards him.

He turned to face her and nodded vehemently. He knew what he wanted to do. But it was only about an hour later, when they were cuddling in her bed, that he delved slowly into the much-awaited conversation.

Draco’s head laid on (Y/N)’s stomach. He was facing her way, eyes closed as her fingers worked their magic on his scalp. He was thinking about the right way to say it. And it all started off clumsily.  

“So, Olivier Flamel, huh?”

“Yes,” she sighed.

For a while, (Y/N) had dated Olivier Flamel, a descendant of the one and only Nicholas Flamel, who, not coincidentally at all, was also a big-shot alchemist. It had ended like most of her relationships and flings in the last few years: casually, easily, no real pain for either part involved because they hadn’t been really that involved.  

“Do I have to hex him?” Draco asked seriously.

(Y/N) snorted. “Ron asked me just the same,” she explained when he shot her an amused look, “And of course not, Dray. Olivier is an amazing guy. There was a lot of chemistry between us and we had a very passionate affair. But ultimately, we were just so different.”

Draco was invaded by a horrible feeling of envy when she talked about their amazing chemistry, but he did his best not to show it, to be rational and kind.

“How are you holding up?” he asked, even though he already knew. He needed the confirmation that still didn’t have feelings for him.

“You know it’s fine,” she shrugged, “I guess I’m just shook. For a while there I was half of the ‘it’ couple of the French wizarding jet set. It was a wild ride. Way too much to handle”.

Her cheeky smile then turned into a more concerned gesture. “How are you holding up?”

To say that (Y/N) had been surprised by Draco and Astoria’s divorce was the understatement of the century. The only thing she was certain of was that she didn’t want to see Draco suffer like that ever again. It had made her physically sick, to see him in so broken. She had been there through every stage of his grief. She helped him move back to Malfoy Manor. She took care of Scorpius on the days in which he couldn’t get out of bed. She cried with him. She got drunk with him. She was the big spoon. And through it all, (Y/N) only real target was to help Draco’s heart heal.  

“I’m alright now. In hindsight I guess I am not surprised, you know? Our relationship was doomed since the beginning. The most important thing to me is Scorpius and I believe we’re handling it well, the share custody and all. He’s a happy boy.”

(Y/N) kept caressing Draco’s hair. There was a painfully long silence. The feeling of repressed words and feelings clouded the air. They had kissed a couple of times before. Once they had a very heated make out session that almost leads to them shagging. But they hadn’t talked about it. Every time it happened, they would just ignore it and carry on, as if they were not both elated by it. (Y/N) had spent countless nights telling herself that she wouldn’t kiss him again; she didn’t want to be Draco’s rebound.

“We totally suck at this love thing, don’t we?” (Y/N) finally said.

Draco’s heart was beating hard on his chest. It was now or never. “I don’t think we suck at this ‘love thing’,” he pointed out, raising up to face her, “I think we have ignored the right person to do the love thing with”.

(Y/N) regarded him seriously for a second. This is really not how she thought the infamous conversation would go. She was braising herself for yet another disappointment. And now here he was, saying the things she had wanted for so long. A lot of mixed messages were bouncing in her mind.

“You mean us? Together?” (Y/N) sat up, “Dray, don’t you think that boat sailed about a decade ago?”

Draco’s smile fell. He was certainly not expecting that. All of a sudden, he felt an emptiness in his stomach and an urgent need to cry. “D-do you really think so?”

“The timing is never right,” she breathed out.

“Look at us now, love. The timing is perfect,” he said before kissing both of her cheeks.

(Y/N)’s eyes welled with tears. “I don’t want to be your rebound, Dray,” she softly.

Draco looked at her, his expression softening. “I’ve been in love with you for the longest time, (Y/N). I pushed you away, convinced that I was doing the ultimate sacrifice for you. I wanted to save you from, well, me. You deserved better. You still do”, he heard her scoff, “But I guess that doesn’t matter anymore.”

They looked at each other intently. “Now,” he said dramatically, “I’ve come all this way to confess my undying love for you…”

“Idiot,” she muttered playfully, the widest and most genuine smile plastered on her face. He inched forward and kissed her face again: her forehead, her cheeks, her jaw, her neck. (Y/N) felt like she was floating on a cloud.

“I want to be yours, (Y/N). I want you to be mine,” he whispered in her ear, before kissing her on that soft spot he knew made her breathing hitch.

“Draco, I swear if you hurt me, if you use me as a rebound, I swear to Circe I’m going to hex you and never talk to –“

He shook his head. “I will never hurt you, (Y/N/N). I am in love with you.”

“I’ve always been yours, Dray,” she said, softly.

“As I’ve always been yours,” he answered. 

They looked at each other then, eyes full of adoration. He tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. His eyes quickly set on her lips before meeting her gaze again. (Y/N) pressed her lips to his. It was, by no means, the first time Draco and (Y/N) kissed. It was, though, the best one they had shared to date. It started sweet and loving, but its intensity raised as the minutes went by. Their feelings let loose, pressing themselves unfiltered with each caress.

“I love you, Draco,” she said breathlessly.

He pressed (Y/N) to his chest, kissing the top of her head multiple times.

“Say that you love me again,” he almost pleaded, his voice small and a bit ashamed. Draco couldn’t believe his ears and he wanted every confirmation he could possibly get.

“I love you, Dray,” she said, pecking his lips, “I love you.”

tags: @fandomscombine @okaydraco @naomi02hook @iliketoast23 @winnsmills @oldfashionedlovergirlsblog @happycomb @xtrashmouthxtozierx @animelover09556 @hopplessdreamer