#ship sets sail

[ts-the-blacksmith]

Lego MOC ship

French Frigate "Saint Germain" - PART 2

designed by TS Kang(@art_house_colts, instagram)

You may enjoy a video about this ship on my YouTube.

(BGM - Jean Marie Leclair, Violin Concerto)

[vicmillen]

Unhinged Duo

Imagine, worst year ever!Tim meeting freshly escaping GIW/parents! Danny. And also various team Phantom members too, from time to time.

Danny and Tim get on with each other like a house on fire and proceeds to speedrun friendship while running from their respective families. Then they goes on an epic road trip across the world blowing up secret bases left and right, and then another one through the time stream and the realms looking for Bruce. Extremely bonding experience tbh 10/10.

Gods I shudder at how much devastation the two can create if they joined forces.

Anyways after they fished Bruce out of the time stream, Tim invites Danny to visit Gotham. Except when Danny got there he got caught up in lady Gotham's bushtits and ended up trapped in the city until he solved some vague problems for Gotham.

Which is fine really! His newly aquired best human friend #4 (gee isn't that depressing) is there to help. Also after their stint GIW, team Phantom is finally getting long due free time. So the team regroup in Gotham, seeking out online classes or going to Gotham U. So despite the lack of visible stars Danny is actually having a hell of a good time in Gotham.

Now if only lady Gotham is more specific on her request... Damn old spirits and their cryptic messages.

[bluespiritshonour]

Maiko Week Day 2: separation

Edit: forgot I had it queued 'cause my exams are going on rn and I have to keep reminding myself the gap days in between aren't vacations. Anyways, I live in the east hence everything comes early to me :3

[ilovemesomevincentprice]

This scene never fails to crack me up!

VINCENT PRICE - HIS KIND OF WOMAN (1951)

[stagefoureddiediaz]

Something something about Tommy ending up at HARBOUR and getting to be his true and full self. Now he’s doing the same for Buck - providing him with a harbour - a safe space for him to find himself and figure things out.

The water theming continues to send me spiralling

[the-golden-vanity]

Setting the jib, somewhere off the coast of New Jersey, 8/10/24

[theredontbedragons]

Black Sails Sets: The Walrus Half Ship & Full Merchant Ships

Source: Ross Jenkin

[muffinlance]

Prompt: Azula joins Zuko on his Avatar hunt instead of Iroh. I don't know why, I don't know how, but I'm certain to be entertained by whatever follows.

Ozai and Ursa were already dead by the time Iroh arrived home. He stepped from his ship into the palanquin, and rode past the places of their execution, holding the urn of his son’s ashes. 

He had no time to entrust them to the Fire Sages before his father summoned him. He brought them along, because this was an easier thing than setting them down. And perhaps Lu Ten’s grandfather would like to see him once more, outside of the family shrine. Iroh would have given anything—

He placed the urn on the floor next to him. It did not kneel when he did. Fire Lord Azulon surveyed him from behind the flames.

“Rise, my son. It is good to have you home.”

They did not speak of Lu Ten. His father had always been a man to look to the flames of the future, rather than the ashes of the past.

* * *

They hanged Ursa, as befitted her attempted crime, and her past station.

They burned Ozai, as befitted his. A child of Agni should always return to the flames.

The children of the traitors had been stricken from the family line. Had been placed in the capital prison; bait for the trap. Azulon was keeping close eye on those who expressed concern for the offspring of regicides. Ozai had expected support for his position; it would be Iroh’s second task to sift through the court, and discard the chaff. 

His first task was a more practical resowing. Azulon had already selected a handful of candidates: women of suitable birth and known loyalties. The wedding date had been set, pending selection of the bride.

“Thank you, father,” Iroh said. 

Lu Ten held his silence.

* * * 

Azula had never liked the servants who’d fussed at her hair and clothes, who’d pulled and tugged until she was perfect, like perfect was a thing outside of her for others to bestow. She only had to look at Zuko to know how far tailored robes and well-oiled hair could take one.

She couldn’t see Zuzu from her cell. Her robes were too cold against the stone and every tug to wrap them tighter just made them worse, she could see it in the guards’ faces, the way they’d stared when she’d first arrived and looked a few days after and now they barely even saw. No one would talk to her, no matter her demands. They didn’t even stop their own conversations anymore; just slid in her food and kept walking and batted away her fires and it was cold here.

There were things crawling in her hair that her nails couldn’t dig out. Sometimes she thought she heard Zuzu yelling, but she couldn’t be sure. And it would have been undignified to yell back. She was a princess. She was fifth in line for the dragon throne. 

Fourth, now that Lu Ten was dead.

Third, because father was, too. 

He’d yelled and then he’d screamed and it hadn’t done anything but make the crowd jeer. Fire Lord Azulon had been silent. Poised. In control. She was his namesake and she would be too. 

She was nine.

* * *

Zuko yelled until his throat burned. The guards didn’t care, they didn’t listen to him, which was nothing new. He shouted and shouted and his own ears hurt. Maybe that’s why he never heard Azula calling back.

Grandfather had made them watch when he’d killed father and, and—

If grandfather had Azula killed, he would have made Zuko watch that, too. Azula was probably just better at being a prisoner than he was. Maybe the guards even talked to her.

He was eleven.

* * *

Iroh’s new wife was a third his age. A flower just coming to bloom. She looked like his first wife; Azulon knew his preferences. She was young enough to be Lu Ten’s sister. She smiled and laughed each day with the other court wives, and came to his room with lists of possible dissenters to discuss in their marital bed. It was not the pillow talk he was used to, but it was charming, in its way. She liked to lay on her stomach and kick her feet above her as they traced the web of treachery with his dead brother at its center. She was here to have his children—a task at which she worked with admirable diligence—and to be the acting Fire Lady. She had not had to struggle and flaunt herself for his affections; she had been picked from a line-up, her expectations realistic, her motives aligned with his. It was the least romantic relationship Iroh had ever been part of. It was… refreshing.

On the day the palace doctor confirmed their newly budded line of succession, the Fire Lord called them both in for congratulations. And for pruning.

* * *

Zuko had turned twelve, but had not realized it. Azula had turned ten. She’d counted the days.

Iroh had not been able to visit them in prison; only to inquire as to their treatment. Individual cells, regular meals of reasonable quality, no abuses. He’d moved his own people into position to ensure the last. 

Azulon had moved them back, after a delay for his soft-hearted son’s conscience. They could not waste loyal men on cuckoo-vipers. And Iroh could not waste his father’s good will. Not when it would be needed in the future, for the most important request.

* * * 

“And your wife agrees to this?” asked the Fire Lord, behind his flames. 

Iroh’s wife had not been directly addressed, and so did not reply. She sat in polite and perfect seiza, her head raised, as befitted the woman currently running her half of the court. Azulon had never seen fit to replace his own wife, after all.

“She does,” Iroh spoke for her. “We have spoken on the issue at length, and believe it best. Our family is small, and cannot afford to be smaller. The children are young; too young to have been in their parents’ confidences. With proper guidance—”

“And how would they place in the line of succession?” Azulon asked. “How would they chafe, how would they plot, with a decade’s experience over your eldest?”

Lu Ten’s own connections at court had been built while his cousins were still in diapers. But he was no longer Iroh’s eldest.

“We believe—”

“No,” his father interrupted again. “I will not allow their adoption. Not by you, where they could smother your own babe in the cradle, and certainly not by someone I trust less.”

Which was everyone, since the night his daughter-in-law had served him tea sent by his son.

“Father,” Iroh began, and his wife shifted her elbow just so, the only indication that she wished to dig it into his ribcage. “They are young, and innocent. They are my beloved nephew and niece. Your grandchildren. We cannot in good conscience—”

‘Good conscience’ had never factored into his father’s policies. Iroh had… begun to realize that, of late. His wife let out a small sigh, deliberately audible only to the man next to her. She had cautioned very strongly against a—how had she put it?—a feelings-based approach to this situation. Feelings rarely factored into her own decisions. She had been hand-selected by his father, after all. 

His wife went into a half-bow, her head lowered. “May I speak, my lord?” 

The flames crackled. The shadow of his father inclined its head, just slightly. 

“To kill the children is wise, and I admit, would set my mind at ease for my own child’s sake. But my husband feels strongly on this matter, and so I support him, for his happiness is my own. May I suggest a compromise? To place them outside the court, where they cannot build influence, nor harm your son’s heirs. A position from which you can judge their characters and value to the nation as they grow.”

“You suggest banishment,” the Fire Lord said.

“Not unstructured, of course. To leave them roaming freely would invite those that would take them in. Perhaps a military commission? As they are commoners, they should begin from a rank befitting their station, of course. Let them prove their worth on their own merit.”

Iroh could not see through the flames, but he knew his wife’s small smile was reflected on his father’s face. 

“A naval position,” the Fire Lord said. “On a ship that does not frequently make port. The frontlines would be the best place for them to prove themselves, wouldn’t you agree?”

Iroh closed his eyes.

“Father,” he said. “Please,” and he could feel his wife willing him to stop talking. The Fire Lord had already agreed to spare their lives. A banishment could be undone, so long as he and the children both outlived the man before them. “I… thank you for your wisdom in this ruling. But perhaps, if they complete some feat worthy of our line, they could be allowed to return?”

The flames were hot against his face. His new wife was still and silent against his side. His father… his father laughed, a low exhalation, the wheeze of a humorless old man.

“Let them bring me the Avatar,” Fire Lord Azulon said, “and I will welcome them home with honor.”

* * *

Zuko didn’t know why they’d pulled him from his cell or scrubbed him down or taken his old clothes. They’d been dirty but they could have been cleaned. His new clothes were scratchy, and too big, and they looked like a common soldier’s, and… and—

And they’d shaved his hair. 

* * * 

It had gotten rid of the bugs, Azula admitted, in the privacy of her own mind. Still. She memorized the faces of the woman who’d held her down and the man who’d shorn her. For future reference.

They hadn’t bothered sizing her new outfit for a child. Azula noted the quartermaster’s face, as well.

* * *

They were put on a ship. It was the first time they’d seen each other in nearly a year.

Zuzu looked at her head, and wisely said nothing.

She raised an eyebrow at his, and graciously granted him the same.

It was hard to tell them apart. They had their mother’s face. And their father’s.

* * *

Their captain’s name was Zhao. He invited them to dinner in his private quarters, once the Fire Nation was behind them. Zuko fidgeted. Azula didn’t.

The captain spoke on how much potential he saw in them, under a commander who saw their true value. 

Together, they could go far. Very far, indeed.

Azula smiled and said all the things she thought father would have said. Zuko scowled. 

Zhao brushed over their arms with his own while reaching for things. He served them more when they said they were already full. He squeezed their shoulders when he brought them back to their rooms, which were next to his, even though the rest of the lower crewmen slept together in the same big cabin. Zuko scowled harder. 

Azula was invited back. Zuko wasn’t.

* * *

Zhao was… Zhao wasn’t a good person.

“I know that, dum-dum. But do you want to stay banished forever?” 

“Uncle said—”

“Uncle’s going to change his mind, when he has his own heir and a spare. We’re threats, Zuzu. And Zhao knows father’s old friends. He’s one of the smart ones.”

The dumb ones had already been executed. 

“I… I think he wants to—to tie himself to the royal line.”

“Eww,” she said. “I’m ten. If he wants to get engaged, I’ll just break it when we’ve got the throne. It will be too late for him to retract his support, then.”

They’d barely left port before Zhao had made his first move. He didn’t seem like a man who waited. 

Azula was ten, but Zuko was twelve. Being twelve was almost thirteen, which was almost a teenager, which was almost an adult, and adults understood things that ten year olds didn’t.

They had to get off this ship. They had to go home.

Zuko had to find the Avatar.

* * *

(This ficlet is now posted on AO3.)

[respectthepetty]

It's a good day to be a Phojai x Night shipper!

Go get you a rich boy, girl! He is in need of a hug or twelve.

[002yb]

While Roy would argue that the leaky faucet in their apartment adds to its ramshackle, rustic charm, Jason doesn't share the sentiment. The persistent dripping is white noise to Roy, but for Jason it's an irritant. It's a reminder of home and a childhood Jason would rather forget - a too small apartment that was rundown and falling apart, all stained surfaces and broken fixtures because no one cared to take care of anything. Jason doesn't want to live like that again. It's why Jason does so much to keep the place up despite Roy's absence because it's not just a safe house - it's their home.

Which is why when Roy comes home and is greeted with that steady drip, he grimaces. The leaky faucet is something Roy promised to fix months ago and promptly forgets about between so many other responsibilities, but he resolves himself in that moment: today is the day.

Guilt and shame are strong motivators and Roy feels an ample amount of both if only because the place looks as good as it does. Everything is clean and smells fresh in a way that makes Roy feel at ease and yet here he's left Jason to suffer with a faulty sink.

The old saying of, 'happy wife, happy life,' crosses Roy's mind and while they're not married, Roy resolves that he needs to do better by his partner. If not out of love, then certainly because Roy isn't sure he could withstand being at the forefront of Jason's provoked ire.

It's not a hard task. Challenged as Roy likes to be, he finds enjoyment in the straightforward nature of the problem and the clear steps needed to resolve it. Compared to the other work he does, it's mindless and it's something of a relief.

That he's going to get brownie points with Jason is an added bonus.

Jason, who walks into their apartment that's been empty for months while Roy has been tied up with Justice League missions and bureaucracy to find his partner on his back, crowded into the cabinet beneath their sink finally making right on his promise to fix the damn plumbing. Jason, who sees Roy following through and preens about it because the poor kid is all crossed wires and fucked up associations about the men in his life taking care of shit like this. Jason, who comes home and straddles Roy's hips like he's done so often in the past, casual and alluring - the menace.

It takes all of Roy's willpower not to react. For as often as Jason tries to seduce Roy, Roy has been painstakingly mindful to not take advantage. Making Jason happy and flirting around is one thing; letting him believe he has to pay Roy back for fulfilling a promise Roy made months ago and forgot about is another.

"You gonna help?" Roy asks instead.

"Depends on the plumbing." Jason quips, grinding his ass back against Roy to tease him and-

Bang!

It feels good until it doesn't. Roy sees stars for too many reasons and all he can think is that this was karma coming to bite his ass for 1) not fixing the sink sooner and 2) being tempted by the vixen that is Jason Todd.

The weight on his pelvis is gone in an instant and Roy groans in disappointment. Just because he won't come on to Jason doesn't mean that he doesn't enjoy when Jason tries to seduce him. It's his guilty pleasure, fuck!

"Shit, are you okay?" Jason asks through an incredulous laugh, dragging Roy out from beneath the sink by his calves. Roy goes easy, one hand to the bump on his head from hitting the pipes beneath the sink. Jason looks both embarrassed and sheepish and Roy can't say the kid has ever looked more gorgeous than in that moment, hovering over Roy with cool fingers pressed to the swelling bump just beneath the edge of Roy's hat. "My bad," Jason snickers, knocking his knuckles just shy of the hurt.

Roy makes a face at him and, just to tease, torments him with a lighthearted taunt: "Kiss it better?"

The mood has come and gone though, so all Jason gives Roy is a smirk and a pointed kiss to his own hand before he smacks it over Roy's head.

"Maybe after you finish with the sink." Jason says, gesturing to the broken pipe, courtesy of Roy's forehead. Roy turns his attention to it, lips pursed because wow, fuck. That's another trip to the store.

"Since it's your fault-" Roy says and Jason scoffs. Still, when Roy holds out his hand, Jason hoists him up. Roy smiles at him, easy as anything, "-come get the parts with me."

Roy loves the work he does. He's happy to do it, but he's missed this; he's glad to be home.

[firewolf111]

Prompt from @jesterbilly Someone trying to bring in a pet without someone noticing

Remus: *crawling on the floor towards his room*

Janus: Remus. What are you up to this time?

Remus: Nothing.

Janus: Mhmm. Sure. Stand up.

Remus: *stands, trying to hide an obvious squirming lump in his shirt*

Janus: *sighing* What is it this time?

Remus: *pulls out an octopus* This is my son.

Janus: Please tell me it doesn't have rabies.

Remus: Silly, Jan. Octopuses can't get rabies.

Janus: First off, octopi... I think. Second, I know that. Yet somehow you've given a fish rabies before. So...

Remus: ...

Janus: So that's a yes. Go put it back where you found it.

Remus: *pouting* fine. *leaves*

Janus: *to the now empty room* ... it's going to end up in my bed tonight, isn't it?

[spockvarietyhour]

You can tell this set was lovingly recreated too, and not just a mix of stock footage and a half view.

A thing I hadn't noticed is that the red railing is now perfectly curved.

Memory-Alpha states that the helm console and captain's chair were from a museum attraction, meanwhile imdb says the 'Sulu Scope' and several other pieces were from New Voyages fan production.

Regardless, they really went all out on this

[greyskyflowers]

I would love to see a hurt/comfort or angsty fic where Zoro's the one to fall in the water. I've seen lots of ones where the devilfruit users fall in, which of course, but what about one of the non devilfruit crew?

How devastating would that be if it was just Luffy and Zoro in that situation?

Zoro not moving quite right, dizzy with a combination of blood loss and a fall earlier that had him smacking his head against the concrete.

He's going down, Luffy's already moving to help catch him with his own battered and exhausted arms but Zoro just... falls back over the edge and into the water.

It takes Luffy a minute, looking blankly at the water with the sound of a splash still in his ears and some stray drops on his skin.

Zoro doesn't come up.

The blood that washed off him when he hit the water is being broken apart by the waves.

Zoro doesn't come up.

There's no bubbles or movement or any sign that Zoro wasn't passed the fuck out when he went down.

Zoro. Doesn't. Come. Up.

Luffy knows he won't be coming up on his own.

The helplessness of that moment would be unreal. I think that'd be a glimpse of serious Luffy, who stops to think just quickly enough that he can't jump in after Zoro because he can't help. If he jumps in then someone will have to try to get him and Zoro, and they need to focus on Zoro.

Pacing back and forth at the edge, eyes scanning for anything, please, anything to show Zoro can hold on just a little longer. Yelling for someone, anyone.

And Sanji gets there, never far from them in battle, his own injuries forgotten as he see Luffy stalking the ledge and no sign of the mosshead. The realization coming quick and cold, his heart up in his throat because Luffy's too wild eyed for Zoro to have simply fallen in like a moron.

Sanji disappearing into the water and Luffy waiting, each second taking too long, and Sanji comes up empty handed.

Luffy howling in anguish.

Something mean and wretched growing in his chest. If Zoro dies here, everyone who touched him will die at Luffy's hand.

He ignores the part of him that's remembering Ace and how close he was to saving him, but failed. How Zoro is so close and he failing him too, he's helpless again and god he's so fucking tired of this feeling

Sanji going under again and this time it's longer. This time he comes up with Zoro though.

Pale, the wounds nothing more than gaping red mouths on his skin, the only color left on him besides his hair.

He's not moving. He's not breathing.

It takes both of them to breathe life back into him, hands shaking but unrelenting against his chest.

Finally, Zoro coughs up salt water and pink foam. He manages to roll onto his side and the salt water drips from his gasping mouth- never really waking up but he's breathing, raspy and shallow as it is, and it's a wonderful sound.

[doortotomorrow]

memori in every episode » wanheda - part two

[litapeanut]

Can I ship them 2.0

Even though this episode is about Peggy attempting to save her "boyfriend" while Nat tailing after them to make sure Peggy is okay, I'll ship 'em anyway.

*Those bits about renting RoboCop to watch together and hitting the road together definitely mean they live together.

[giriduck]

Just noticed something about Link’s Island Lobster Shirt accessories in TotK: he’s wearing a bracelet! But not just any bracelet!

It’s a traditional sailors braided bracelet!

It’s said that these bracelets are for good luck, but it’s also a popular fashion choice in the sailing community—especially aboard tall ships.

These bracelets are one continuous knot that is tied directly onto one’s wrist or object of choice (it’s often used on the helm to indicate the top “king spoke” when the rudder is centered, and on railings or other surfaces to help seize in place other decorative nautical “fancywork”).