#sparrow fics

[sparrowsworkshop]

"Screened" by OneWingedSparrow

Main Tags: TFP, Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, During Canon, Major Character Death (referenced), Megatron & Soundwave Summary: A tribute to Frank Welker for providing the iconic voices of Megatron and Soundwave—among many other characters across animation—over the years. Told from the perspectives of both TFP Megatron and TFP Soundwave, during and after the events of the episode "Crossfire." Part of the "Peace Through Tyranny Zine" hosted by @allsparkzines ! Please check out everyone's artwork and stories! They're amazing! Read on AO3; paired artwork here Reblogs are appreciated! ~ The bridge of the Nemesis revved with unchecked tension, like a jet engine that grumbled and screamed and refused to leave the ground despite the time for liftoff.

“The reason for our inability to locate Breakdown’s signal is all too clear...but how is it that you were unable to recover his remains?” Lord Megatron snapped.

Dreadwing avoided his gaze, fixating his attention on the floor instead.

An incoming message set the computer trilling with urgent beeps. Soundwave turned to open the notification.

“What is it?” Lord Megatron barked, just as the call connected.

A saccharine voice sent a teasing greeting echoing around the room. “Heard from Breakdown lately?”

Laserbeak twitched against Soundwave’s spark chamber. Silently, Soundwave looked to his lord.

“Trace the communication,” Megatron snarled. With practiced grace, Soundwave’s fingers flew over the keys. The onscreen cursor ricocheted around a virtual globe as frequencies were examined and swiftly eliminated, one after another.

“Megatron, truly,” Airachnid said through the speakers, as merrily as if she offered advice to an old friend, “you sent simple henchmen to terminate a high-ranking officer. I thought you reserved that honor for yourself.”

Soundwave’s fingers hovered in place.

Megatron stomped towards the dashboard, words aflame with vitriol. “Is that a challenge?”

“An invitation,” Airachnid corrected, mildly. “And, since Soundwave is, no doubt, tracing this signal, you know where to find me.”

Right then, the monitor flashed with the coordinates.

Megatron stared at the screen. Soundwave watched a thousand emotions smolder in his optics before he spoke with an air of finality.

“I’ll be back.”

“Allow me to accompany you,” Dreadwing proposed. “You already had your chance,” Megatron snapped. He stormed from the bridge.

Dreadwing hung his head, thoroughly chastised. Soundwave almost pitied the failure.

~

Cracks of lightning split the sky around Megatron as he flew—verily, the fury inside him come to life. As he glided into the cavern where Airachnid surely lurked, Megatron growled to himself. If you desire proper execution of a task, by the Antispark, you need do it yourself!

“I place too much faith in those who follow me,” he muttered. “The war has despoiled my troops of competence. I imagined my expectations lowered enough, and yet…!”

The mouth of the cave swallowed him. Megatron vanished into darkness.

~

Soundwave knew Lord Megatron was a fierce combatant, fully capable of handling his own. However, he also knew Airachnid. Airachnid was not your typical opponent. Even among Decepticons, she was diabolically cunning, darkly creative, and downright ruthless. Moreover, as an uncommon eight-legger, she wielded a fighting style that sharply disadvantaged Megatron’s. Whereas Megatron exuded might and force, Airachnid thrived in speed and guile. She was a trickster, an ambusher, and above all, a predator.

If Airachnid had the gall to consume Breakdown’s husk, Soundwave did not doubt her readiness to dismantle his lord as well. Airachnid was surely weaving trickery between her needling fingers, a net with which to snag Megatron in his anger. No matter his proven battle prowess, Lord Megatron would not be returning unscathed.

Against his spark, Laserbeak hummed in agreement.

Soundwave commanded the computer to sleep and drifted from his post.

~

When the Insecticon tackled him, Megatron had been thrown backwards.

Airachnid’s secret champion had slammed his neck at an awkward angle, setting it aching. Now, the Insecticon whinnied inches away from his face, mandibles waggling. Breathing heavily, Megatron seized all his strength, and thrust the creature far enough away to fire his fusion cannon.

Before he could shoot again, a web blast from Airachnid’s perch rendered his cannon useless. Utilizing the diversion, the Insecticon transformed into beetle mode, zipped forward, and tossed him into the air. A stab near the spark chamber left Megatron gasping. He hit the ground, showered by his own energon.

Instinct ignited as pain kicked in, accompanied by sheer adrenaline. When the Insecticon charged for another blow, Megatron timed its attack, and smacked the beast away with one fell swoop of his arm.

Airachnid hissed in displeasure. He cast a smirk towards her distant platform.

“You and your beast would do well to remember,” Megatron yelled, “I honed my skills in the Pits of Kaon!”

Furious as he was at Airachnid’s scheme, part of him thrilled in the unexpected matchup. Many of his memories of the Pits had been blocked out; but there was still much that he recalled. ~

Rather than stride the halls, Soundwave opened a ground bridge and teleported himself directly into his private quarters, while Laserbeak sequestered himself in the rafters outside to alert him to approaching vehicons.

Soundwave’s tentacles easily found the package, stacked in the corner among dozens of decoys. To the unsuspecting optic, the package appeared to be an ordinary Energon Cube. Courtesy of his visor, however, Soundwave could clearly identify the invisible symbols stamped all over the container, backlit by the artificial glow. A simple deception, engineered by Shockwave, meant for his sight alone.

He tapped the symbols in their proper order, unlocking the seal. The item inside snapped neatly into Laserbeak’s rest. The Minicon would fit right over it; no one would notice the extra mass on his frame.

At that moment, Laserbeak trilled on a frequency only Soundwave could hear. He tilted his head at the news.

So the failure does have some brass in his bearings.

~

“Rescue” was not a word Megatron regarded fondly; but, he decided he could live with an assisted tactical retreat.

“You disobeyed my orders in following me here,” Megatron growled.

He waited just long enough for worry to overtake Dreadwing; then, Megatron transformed his tone, almost sounding…jovial.

“You will make a fine first lieutenant,” he said through a wide, concealed grin.

~

Lord Megatron returned limping.

The average Decepticon would never have detected this; yet, Soundwave had spent enough time with him to identify when something was off. A miniscule change in his gait was all the proof Soundwave needed.

Megatron straightened his back as a group of Eradicons passed by, saluting him. As soon as they left, he grumbled and pulled a strand of web from his fusion cannon.

Knock Out welcomed Lord Megatron into the med bay. A few wayward drops of energon trailed behind him, at Soundwave’s feet.

A single tentacle unfurled, claws sweeping over the floor to wipe the energon away—out of sight.

At Knock Out’s beckoning, Lord Megatron sank onto the examination berth. Soundwave noticed how his knees quavered under him, but chose not to say anything.

~

Knock Out’s examination was prompt, as Megatron demanded. No Decepticon should ever know all his wounds or weaknesses...even his medic.

Once Knock Out was dismissed, Megatron narrowed his optics at Soundwave. “Did you send Dreadwing after me?”

“It was his own stupid idea!” Knock Out’s voice protested from Soundwave’s speakers. A favorite recording, from yet another occasion of Starscream’s troublemaking.

Megatron laughed, hoarsely. “So there is hope for Decepticon competency, yet.”

Yes, Soundwave thought, at last we have found someone faithful to your cause.

Towards his lord, he nodded, signaling Laserbeak to deploy.

Into Megatron’s open palm, a tentacle placed the item that Soundwave had guarded since their time in the Pits.

His lord’s knee brace. ~

[mielkae]

Mcyt as Writing Prompts pt. 5

[imyourbratzdoll]

Could I request Jack sparrow x reader fluff?

hello, of course you can! I hope you enjoy what I've written, I added a tiny bit of angst, but I'm hoping it made the fluff even sweeter.

summary - jack had fallen in love once but had lost it. does he finally find it again?

warning - little bit of angst, mentions of alcohol and killing.

the gif I use isn't mine, divider by @newlips (deactivated)

Captain Jack Sparrow had only ever fallen in love once. But the love was kept a secret as you weren’t human and it was dangerous for a pirate to love, especially your kind. There was something about you that pulled him in, connected the last piece of his puzzle, calmed the storm that brewed inside him. This love was beautiful, until the day you became hunted, causing you to flee and Jack to continue to search the seas. He’d always lie and come up with some insane quest, but the true quest was to reunite with his love again. 

Years passed by and Jack soon began to lose hope, he didn’t dare stop searching for you. But he was beginning to think that maybe you didn’t escape in time or that you had moved on wherever you were. Jack is thrown out of his thoughts as the ship rocks, he steadies himself by gripping the wheel tight. “Mr Gibbs! What was that?!” His hand moves to play with the light blue seashell in his hair, at least he had something of yours close to him. 

“I don’t know, sir!” Mr Gibbs runs over to the edge, looking over, his mouth opening and closing as he watches a tail splash above the water before going back down. “A siren! My gods, Captain!” 

Jack dashes over, trying to hide his hopeful expression. What if it was you? He’d be thrilled, but he’s with his crew and they wouldn’t waste a second without going for the kill. “No, how many?” He leans over, brows raised, eyes wide and arms in the air. 

“Just one as far as I’ve seen, Captain. What should we do?” Mr Gibbs looks at him, thankfully the rest of the crew were too busy with whatever they were doing to pay much attention. 

Jack waves him off, “Just one? Is fine! We will head to shore, I’m in need of more rum anyway.” He heads back, hoping that it’s you and that you’d follow him to shore. Jack could feel his heart in his throat, maybe some rum would do some good. 

They head to the closet land, no one speaks a word. Jack too lost in his thoughts and Mr Gibbs watching him closely, the older man wasn’t stupid. He had heard of the stories, the time that a pirate fell for a siren. He just didn’t know said pirate was his current Captain. When they finally reached land, Jack did something unexpected, he allowed everyone to go before him. Not racing off for booze or women, instead he headed off the ship and down to the beach. The sun had set, and the moon was rising, but Jack could still see clearly. 

As he moved closer to a rock formation, he noticed someone sitting on top. Your hair falling beautifully as always, your eyes that were once bright were now slightly dull and the smile was replaced with a frown. “Y–Y/n? Is that you, love?” 

You nod, “J–Jack…” You felt the sobs in your throat desperately wanting to come out. 

Jack rushes forward, his hand grasping your cheek while his eyes studied you. His own tears flowing down his cheeks. “My siren, my mate. The years I’ve waited for you.” He seals your sobs with a kiss, eyes slipping closed as he embraces this feeling. “I’m never letting you go again, love. Never.” 

Your hands feel his face and hair, they stop, and your fingers touch something familiar, your eyes move from his face and land on it. “You kept it…” You play with the seashell, remembering the day Jack had surprised you with a date on the beach and after you had eaten, you grabbed his hand and swam together. You remember popping your head up and handing him the pretty blue seashell, telling him that if you were ever apart that you would always be with him.

“Of course, I did, love. It was what kept me going.” He stares into your eyes with a gentle gaze.

Your hands stay on him, not wanting to stop touching him because then he might disappear again. “It’s been so long, I thought I lost you… I’ve been searching…” Your bottom lip trembles and your brows furrow. “I love you, Jack.” 

“I love you, my siren. More than words could express.” 

From behind and on the ship, Mr Gibbs smiles, raising a glass in the air before taking a sip. He was happy his Captain found his love again, thankful that his clues for you to find them finally worked.

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

[leafatlaw]

Its just, me and my comfort mid-2000s sitcom against the world

[champion-of-love]

omake from my fic (for the faint of hearts)

daring, annoyed and entering his and hopper's room after classes ended: why did you tell cupid and briar that i asked lizzie out because of the bet with sparrow?

hopper, whose self-preservation instincts have been sharply honed after hanging out with briar and cupid for the past few months: they knew i had gym with you and sparrow earlier that day and figured i'd know something. sorry dude but they'd waterboard it out of me if i didn't tell them

~flashback~

hopper, holding a tray of coffee in one hand and a box of cupcakes in another as he enters cupid's radio booth with cupid and briar already inside: oh my hex, you guys you will not believe what just happened at the hocus pocus cafe earlier

[danihow]

Stare

Jack Sparrow x Fem!Reader C. Is it so hard for you to believe I love you? 7. You are so so pretty I can’t help but stare and you caught me. Requested by anonnie.

Word count: 2.1k

Summary: In which the reader realizes she cares for captain Jack Sparrow (idk).

Warning: Angst, crack, fluff, rum, drinking, (?).

A/N: I didn't realize i was writing in fem reader until i revised it, and also, i loved the tropes but it got lost by the end, i'm so sorry i butchered it. LIKE IT DOESN'T EVEN HAS A SUMMARY OMG.+ I HATE ITTT.

Sailing on board of the Black Pearl was rather... peculiar, if you were to put it in words.

One of the sea's most infamous ships in the seas, captained by one of the most known pirates of the Caribbean; a captain that according to tales was either a hero or the devil himself but to you was just a man with a severe craving for rum and an insane amount of luck by his side.

Still, you would never trade your place in the Pearl's crew by anything else in the world, it was your safe place, your home. From the creaky black floors and the moldy walls to the welcoming crew and the surprisingly insanely smart captain who cared for his crew even if his mouth never expressed it.

"Jack, have you seen Marty?" You ask while you walk past him, the Pearl was anchored in Tortuga while replenishing of provisions and the guys of the crew relaxed for a while; it was less to say to say you were a bit surprised to see Jack on board and not in a bar. "Wait why are you still on deck?"

"To answer your multiple and incessantly questions, love, one, I haven't seen Marty, two, I... I just didn't feel like it." He said, the first answer you knew was sincere but the second one was not all that honest by the way his gaze diverted further to the floor and his hands made that little gesture he does when unsure.

"You know you don't have to lie to me, Jack." You say, a raised brow inquiring for a deeper answer while Jack walked away from you. "Actually, you've been acting quite strange these past days."

"Strange?" He reiterates, brows furrowing and lips pouting right before his hands flew around him discarding your words. "You are one to tell that lass." He says, walking around you going to the hold for some of the new rum bottles. "If anything-" He starts again, some rummaging interrupting him before a satisfied hum sounds again. "You be far more strange...er."

While walking back on deck he walks again past you to his cabin, stopping at the door. "Ye should go and have some fun love, you look rather distressed." He says before closing the door behind him, leaving you rather confused in your place.

Out of all the words you just said to the captain it appeared he understood none and replied with less. To anyone else it would appear normal from Sparrow but something in your gut said it just wasn't as right as it seemed.

With a huff you turn on your heels ready to walk off the Pearl, feeling sick due to the annoyingly fleeting butterflies that seemed to rise in your belly every time he called you love even though he called every woman he met that way.

"He's so stupid." You mutter, chugging down some rum mixed with some fruity juice Gibbs handed to you once you sat down beside him at the bar, bottles flying above your head and yelling perforing your eardrums.

"Who? Jack?" He says absentmindedly while eyeing who to take another rum bottle from, hand flying to grab a drunk man's one and exchanging for is water full one. Satisfied grin on his face.

"Why is he so... confusing?" You ask again, another gulp from the bottle before giving it back to Gibbs. "Like, what is the point of answering something you never inquired about?"

"Jack be kind of... a surprise box." He says, alternating from which bottle he drinks from. "He may not say what you want to hear but more of what you need to hear."

"Well, in that case there's nothing usable in his words." You huff, Gibbs shrugging your making you groan.

"Why do you care so much either way? Ye can just let'm be lass." He opines, face scrunching at the sight of someone falling down the second floor.

"I don't care!" You exclaim, slamming your hand down the table as you turn to him.

"Whatever let you sleep at night." He mutters, patting your back before standing up, leaving you a bottle of rum and your thoughts.

Some weeks after departing from Tortuga you came to the realization that, unfortunately, you do care.

And is driving you insane.

"Let's head north, Master Gibbs!" Jack exclaimed as hi pocketed his compass, however he seemed not too sure of the directions of course that had to be taken.

"Ye heard the captain!" Gibbs recalled loudly, everyone moving to occupy themselves as loud chattering filled the deck.

Jack, however, stood in place on deck by the helm, guiding the Pearl as he seemed to be deep in his mind and a few feet away from him, hands in her pockets, stood the only other women on board ever since Anamaria left the crew, you.

Ever since talking to Gibbs in Tortuga your mind has all but stopped thinking about the man that now stood in front of you; some time ago you could’ve sworn you had good taste in men but now, you weren't so sure as you could look at him per various minutes without growing bored of the way his eyes scanned everything around him and how he never failed to do smart remarks in the most serious moments.

You weren't sure at all but what you do know is there is something scarily charming about Jack Sparrow and you can't help but feel uneasy about it.

"Love, even though I may have to accord with you as in I be madly attractive to women, you do need to go and do... whatever it is that you do." Jack stated, turning to look at you with a small lopsided smirk, eyeing your face as it turned as red as a tomato, Jack himself thinking of it as it’s kind of cute, even if he despises tomatoes.

"Right." You nodded, diverting your eyes to wherever else and stepping down to the front deck, away from Jack whose gaze followed you, a sigh leaving him.

"Ye should act on it, Jack." Gibbs dares to say as he steps back on helm.

"Act on what Master Gibbs?" He asks back, Joshamee not letting slide the knowing tone Jack's voice held upon his clueless acting.

"If I know one thing about women it is that they change their mind over a man rather quickly if he doesn’t act on it." He mutters, receiving a hum and a nod from Jack.

However, that small chat from the morning prior left a bitter aftertaste in Jack's heart, something he hadn't felt in a long, long time. It scared him.

They change their mind rather quickly. A voice in Jack's head spoke again, making him shake his head and step out of his cabin into the darkness of the Pearls at night, all of the crew sleeping, and the air silent enough Jack could hear his own breaths.

Squinting his eyes he spots a figure laying against the front deck's rail, eyes staring at the water that expanded endlessly around them. Slowly, he walked closer, his boots making a small creaky noise as he walked up the stairs.

"What are you doing awake Jack?" Your voice whispered to the air, making the captain stop in his tracks while staring at your figure in the night.

"Could ask you the same thing, love." Finally, after some seconds he walked to your side, standing firm with his back against the railing, opposing your posture.

"The sea at night is always beautiful and calming." You mutter, taking in the way the full moon reflected on the calm tides.

"Can't argue with you on that." He smirked, looking down to his compass, the little red arrow spinning for a while before staying still, pointing to his right.

"Now, why is the captain awake?" Your tone held up some diversion, Jack could hear the smile on your face and feel your eyes boring into the right side of his face.

"Couldn't sleep." He simply states. Compass away in his pocket and back drifting away from the railing, ready to walk back.

"You can stay for a while either way, I can leave if you don't want me near." You mutter, backing up to look at him, his eyes meeting yours for the first time in a few days of slipping away from you between tasks and calls.

"Now why wouldn't I want you near me, love?" He asks, sincerely confused as his eyes registered sadness and sorrow in your sweet gaze.

"I don't know, you seem to have been avoiding me these past weeks." you keep on talking as his eyes never falter upon yours. "At first I thought it was just you being weird but now I realized it's only when I’m around." You shrug your shoulders, trying to let it slip of you, but your Captain knew you even if he wanted not to, it was hard for him not to get keen on you.

"There's no need to lie about your feeling lass." He states, feeling almost sad of seeing you shrug your emotions away. "And I have not been avoiding you at all."

"You have"

"Have not."

"You have"

"Have not!" He reiterates, relaxing upon your chuckle reaching his ears.

"You know Jack..." Your voice interrupts the comfortable silence that settled. "When I first got into piracy a few years ago I swore to never care about any mates I had, knowing far well about how dishonored people were becoming as summers passed." To say Jack was intrigued about where you were headed to would be an understatement.

"The thing is, and I don't know why, is has become really hard for me not care about this crew, about the Pearl, and about you." Chuckling, you gaze falls to your hands, head moving almost in a denying demeanor. "I really tried not to care for you, Jack."

"Love..."

"Even Gibbs has come around asking what's up with me, what is it that keeps me looking for you everywhere, it's almost dumb you know..."

"What's dumb?" He had to ask, handheld together tightly to the point his nails clawed his palms.

After a few beats of silence, you force yourself to word it out, the sky shifting as the sunrise came. "How much I ended up loving you."

Jack's face became a poem, an angsty poem as guilt, surprise, shame, sadness, and something else passed behind his features. "I... Really?"

"Just forget it." you quickly recover, straightening yourself and walking away, sensing the betrayal oncoming.

"Is it so hard for you to believe I love you?" You have to ask, turning around in your heels to meet his gaze again, face stern and almost guilty as he stares back at you.

"You wouldn't even bare to imagine how hard it is, Y/N." He says, walking over to you, talking your wrist gently before you walk away on him. "I, meself, can't even come around to put in words how insane you would be if you did love me, darling."

"Why?" Your voice become small, eyes looking up to his as his hand entangled itself in a strand of your hair.

"Because, on which mind it would be correct for a woman like you to fall for a pirate like me, darling." He states, hand falling to his side, ready to let you go,

"Am I not a pirate too, Jack?" You mutter, pinky finger searching for his and tangling them together.

"You could choose not to, you're free to leave this life." Seriously enough his voice responded your question, warmth spreading throughout your chest.

"I would've done that many years ago if I wished for it, wouldn't I?"

"You won't change your mind after, right?" He asks, nose now brushing against yours, eyes searching for anything that tells him to walk away before he isn't able to.

"I will take no offense upon your words, Jack." Your smiling lips brushing against his was enough for him to shorten the distance between you two, the bittersweet taste of rum and herbs that came off Jack was making your knees weaken, hands snaking around your waist to pull you even closer if possible.

"So... this is why you stare so much?" Jack's voice is teasing, a playful smack landing in his chest as you chuckle, walking away from his embrace to wake up the crew as the sun has not risen enough.

[frost-queen]

Hell-bound Squid (Reader x Ben Hargreeves)

Requested by: anon Forever tag:@missmelodramatic, @alex–awesome–22, @ellie-does-the-posts, @floatlosers, @merlieve , @queen-of-books , @glimmering-darling-dolly , @denkisclown , @wildieflower , @meyocoko , @justanothercoco, @subjecta13-thefangirl , @m-rae23 , 

@harleyquinnswifeyfrfr  , @swampything07, @melsunshine , @panhoeofmanyfandoms , @venomsvl , @the-uncoordinated-house-cat , @rosecentury , @imagines-by-her, @evilcr0ne , @vviolynn , @niktwazny303 , @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 , @markive-m

The Sparrow academy was out. Freshly returning from a mission. Some of them still had blood splatters on their uniform. – “Urgh now I have to wash my uniform again.” – Alphonso said looking at his own shirt. Jayme rolled her eyes at him. Sloane walked up to him. – “No worries Alphonso mom will wash the blood out like she always does.” – she reassured him, holding a hand against his cheek. Alphonso chucked sweetly.

Fei clicked her tongue, looking away bothered. Christopher soaring around her. Annoyed she shooed him away from around her. Chistopher soared to Marcus who patted him gently on the block. – “Let’s report back to father.” – he said getting everyone’s attention. Everyone hummed as they started to go after Marcus. Ben’s eye fell on someone familiar as he was hesitant.

“Actually…” – he started making his siblings pause brief. – “I’ll meet you all at the academy.” – he said holding a finger up, without looking at his siblings. – “Be home save.” – Sloane shouted whilst Ben already walked off. Jayme rolled her eyes clearly at her. – “What? Can’t I say to be save?” – Sloane replied making Jayme groan loud. – “It’s the girl.” – Fei spoke making everyone look at her. Fei pointed with her finger forwards.

All their eyes following as across from the street, they saw Ben cross over to go over to a group of people. Amongst them you. – “Aww.” – Alphonso said with a hand on his heart. – “Yuk.” – Jayme called out spitting at the ground. The ground startled sizzling with acid. Marcus nudged Alphonso to keep up as they were heading back for the academy. Ben approached the group of people as you didn’t notice him at first.

“Ben!” – you called out happily. Ben gave you a sour smile in return. – “Yo wait isn’t he from the bird academy?” – a boy called out. – “Sparrow.” – Ben clarified with a glare. You moved around your friends going over to him. – “Ben… are you okay?” – you questioned seeing some specks of blood on his neck. Ben touched his neck, looking down at his glove, barely seeing anything on it. – “I am!” – he answered, grabbing you firm by your wrist. Pulling you away from your friends. – “What is the meaning of this?” – he asked.

You furrowed your brows, looking behind you. – “These are my friends.” – you told him as Ben started to laugh loud. Almost mockingly as he wouldn’t believe these were your friends. – “You’ve got no friends Y/n. Just me.” – he reminded you with a smirk. Bothered you pulled your hand away. – “Stop being mean!” – you told him. – “Oh I’m being mean?” – Ben shouted back. – “Yes.” – you made clear. – “I’ll show you being mean!” – he pushed you aside, glaring at your friends. – “You better run.” – he told them, tilting his head a bit. From out of his chest emerged his tentacles.

Your friends started screaming, taking a run for it. Ben shifted his posture a bit as he moved a tentacles at the boy insulting his academy. He laughed manically when the tentacles had wrapped around him. Up in the air, he was dangling to his pleasure. – “Ben stop!” – you called out, having enough. Seeming that he wouldn’t listen, you ran up to him. Grabbing him by his arm, to shake him out of this nightmare. Three of your friends dangling in the air as Ben laughed loudly.

Amusing yourself with them. – “Ben that’s enough!” – you made clear. Ben groaned loud, pushing you aside. You got flung against the wall. Groaning in pain. Ben dropped your friends as they started running for their lives. – “Freak!” – one of them called out. Ben was smiling, turning himself to you. He picked you up from the ground, holding you up against the wall by your shoulder. – “Like I said no friends.” – he said. – “Asshole!” – you cursed back at him. Ben’s gaze hardened as he tensed his jaw. He then let go of you, taking off.

Stunned and baffled you didn’t know what overcame him. Never had he acted out so bad towards you. Never has he taunt you so much to make your life miserable. You just knew they wouldn’t want to be your friends anymore. Probably telling around so that everyone would keep their distance from you. And so it was. Wherever you walked in the street, you heard the whispers. That you were associated with the Hargreeves freaks.

To many, a bunch of freaks manufactured in a lab filled with poisonous toxins. Afraid their toxins would rub off on them and make them sick. Preferring to stay as far as possible from them. Everyone looked at you, like you were a disease all because of Ben. All because Ben decided to toy with some of your friends. If he hadn’t scared them, your life wouldn’t be miserable now. People left the shops whenever you entered or they casted you out.

You sat on a bench in the park, throwing the last of your bread at the doves. – “Aww sad and alone Y/n.” – you heard from behind you. Without even looking up, you knew who it was. Ben Hargreeves. He came jumping over the bench to sit with you. – “What do you want?” – you asked him bitsy. – “Oh someone is snappy.” – he teased poking you in the cheek. It made you slap his hand away. – “Because of you I am practically cast out of society!” – you told him, wanting him to know the consequences of his actions.

“Boohoo.” – Ben said bored, leaning back against the bench. His reaction made you almost lose your mind. – “I thought we were friends!” – you nearly screamed at him. Ben looked at you, quirking an eyebrow up before bursting out in laughter. Annoyed you got up, not wanting to be near him. Ben got up with a tensed expression.

You gasped when a tentacle wrapped around you. Lifting you up from the ground as it made you twirl up till you were in front of Ben. Feeling the slimy tentacle swivel around you. Ben moved you closer, coming nose to nose. Your expression angry. – “Feeling real tough now?” – you mocked at the power he had over you. Ben moved you even closer that he was nearly breathing you. His gaze flashed down to your lips, taking them in for a second before flashing his gaze back up.

“Very.” – he responded moving the tentacle back. Gasping loud, you felt yourself being pulled back with force. Tentacle releasing from around you as it tossed you away. With a scream you fell into the pond, disturbing the ducks as they flew for safety. Ben started laughing loud, taking his phone out to take pictures. You couldn’t laugh at all. Resurfacing, spewing some water out.

Ben waved you mockingly goodbye. You swam to the edge, crawling out drenched. Laying in the grass out of breath. Taking out your phone, you went to Ben’s number. Blocking it immediately as frankly you had enough of his hell-bound attitude. Whatever he was dealing with, he needn’t act it out on you. His ‘perhaps’ only friend. Yet he had just lost that privilege as you didn’t want anything to do with him anymore. The more he staid away, the better.

No more tormenting you with words or toying with you like a puppet. You were neither of those things. Soaking wet, your cloths weighed down as you made your way out of the park to your house. Hoping you’d avoid Ben more than enough. Luckily it seemed to work as for over a week now you hadn’t heard anything from him. Till one night he came knocking on your door.

There was loud pounding on the door. It startled you, making you jump out of your skin. Slowly getting up from the sofa, you wondered who it would be at this Godly hour. Seeing the clock, you saw it was rounding up to twelve. Moving into the hallway, there were more pounding. Making you gasp loud, muscles pulling together from fright. Then there was silence. Waiting in the hallway, you hoped they would disappear. Clash!

The door broke down as it made you scream loud. – “You’ve been ignoring your phone Y/n.” – Ben said stepping over your door on the floor. Eyes widening, you started running towards the stairs. Ben released his tentacles as they reached out. One strapped around your ankle. Pulling with a hard snap at you. Falling flat on the ground forwards. – “Ben let go!” – you screamed as he started to pull you closer to him. – “I’m not done playing with you.” – he said angrily. Your hands grabbed a cabinet as you held onto it. – “Why are you ignoring me Y/n?” – he asked making his tentacles pull harder at you.

Wanting you to let go of the cabinet. – “Payback asshole!” – you shouted trying to kick at his tentacle. Ben called it out, whipping another tentacle at your hands. Screaming, you let go being hit on the hands. The tentacle dragged you over the floor to him. Ben set his foot down on your body. – “You shouldn’t have ignored me.” – he made clear, leaning down to pick you up from the ground.

Breathing frightened, you were at eye-level of him. – “Ben…” – you begged not sure what he would do. Ben stared with a hardened expression at you. Lured in by his gaze, you started to see another meaning behind them. Loneliness? Did he perhaps felt alone?  Was it a reason for him to lash out. Did he feel like he was losing your friendship? Or was he simply feeling all alone in this world? Ben’s gaze was with pity for a moment before his expression hardened once more.

“Ben…” – you whispered out feeling his tentacle slither up your leg to your stomach. Curling around you to keep you in place. – “What are you becoming?” – you asked with worry. – “Nothing!” – Ben shouted back as you felt the tentacle tighten around you. It made you yelp soft at the sudden tension. – “I don’t like this side of you.” – you told him clear off. – “Too bad Y/n!” – Ben answered. His tentacle slithering higher up. You felt it slither around your chest and over your shoulders.

Ben’s gaze still on you as they slowly drifted to your lips. You felt yourself get pushed closer to him. Inches away from him. Your eyes widened feeling the tentacle slither more up towards your neck. The muscles tightening around your throat. Ben didn’t seem to notice, his gaze fixated on your eyes. Your eyes widened a bit, yelping out a soft sound. The strength of his tentacles, slowly suffocating you. – “Ben…” – you shrieked out, choking. Your airpipe getting shut as you were breathless. Ben’s gaze went rapidly over your expression. Trying to scan and interpret it.

It took him a few seconds to understand. Shocked he jumped back. His tentacles releasing on you as you dropped to the ground. Having no idea his tentacles were doing this to you. Sure he was a bit angry at you for ignoring him, but he didn’t want to kill you. – “Y/n!” – he shouted in fear, retracting his tentacles. He sunk to his knees, pulling you onto his lap. – “Y/n breath! Come on Y/n. Don’t die on me now!” – he called out, pressing his hand against your cheek. Not sure what to do, he leaned down, pressing his lips onto yours.

Spreading your lips with his, he blew air into your lungs. Just one blow was enough for you to get a freakish feeling. Jumping up and pushing Ben away from you. Ben blinked stunned at you whilst you coughed loud. – “The hell Ben!” – you yelled at him, wanting to punch him. Ben caught you by surprise, wrapping his arms around you. – “Good you are still here.” – he whispered to you. – “Thought I was leaving you?” – you asked, giving him a punch against his back. You felt his head rub out a yes against your shoulder.

It made you wrap your arms tighter around him. – “I’m not going anywhere silly squid.” – you told him. – “You just didn’t need to make my life hell because of your fears.” – you accused him with a glare. – “Sorry.” – he let out ashamed. You gave him a playful shove against his head for being so annoying. – “Do you need some more CPR Y/n?” – he asked. – “What? No?” – you responded confused. Before you knew it, Ben had pushed his lips onto yours, cupping your cheeks. You happily kissed him back. Knowing it was all a charade to hide his true fears. Fear of ending up alone.

-----------------------------------------

Read more of my fics on my Masterlists!

[socksracoon10]

Pirate

Pairing: Will Turner x F!Reader, Jack Sparrow x F!Reader (Platonic) Read The Second Part: Not Just A Pirate

That imbecile had left you with Barbossa, and the thought of having to deal with his monkey's stupid chattering had nearly driven you to madness. Seizing any opportunity available, you had found yourself a small boat and began your search for Sparrow. You weren't expecting much from him, considering you were technically a part of his crew - the rest were with Barbossa. Not that it made any difference, though, because at the moment you were without a captain and unfortunately in the eyes of a few redcoats who eyed you, warily. They drew their rifles closer to themselves, marching over with some fire in their eyes.

"Oh, curse me," You muttered underneath your breath, throwing your hat into the water below, before carefully stepping onto a dock. Your foot dangled helplessly onto the boat, almost causing you to lose your balance. Gesturing for a soldier to come help you, you grabbed hold of his arm and hoisted yourself up onto the wooden platforms and sighed in relief, thanking them with false kindness.

"Enough, enough," One of them grumbled, rolling his eyes. He sneezed, the droplets of his mucus flying past you as you cringed at the sight. Despite being a pirate, you still had at least a little bit of hygiene left in you during your days as a "proper" lady. "What brings a girl like you to Port Royal, especially in that poor excuse of a boat?"

You followed the soldier's fingers to the vessel, noticing the way a few splinters poked out from the oars. It was a ghastly sight and a miracle that it had managed to take you this far without sinking. Shaking your head, you came up with the best excuse you could think of,

"I was robbed by a pirate. I was hoping at least one of you would show some mercy and help me find that treacherous man." 

"Was it Jack Sparrow?" Another soldier chimed in, his voice so delicate as he uttered the name.

"Precisely!" You whispered, excitedly as you wriggled your eyebrows, "Have you seen him lurking about here? I ought to give him a piece of mind!"

"Now, now, listen here, you don't have to do anything," The third soldier cried out with an exasperated sigh, "As misfortunate as your encounter with Sparrow must be, I implore you to go find yourself an inn for the time being." He had this air of haughtiness in his voice, one that made your frown deepen into a snarl. Biting the inside of your cheek, you pushed any emerging ill comments at him down to your boots and merely nodded your head in response.

Pushing past the soldiers, you trailed up the staircase to the cobbled streets of Port Royal and found a group of more soldiers running down the streets from The Governor's quarters. Frowning, your faintly heard the mention of Jack Sparrow among one of the redcoats that passed by you and you instantly figured out what was going on.

Crossing through an alley, you found a familiar set of beads dangling from an individual's head, hiding behind a wagon; he occasionally lifted his head to peer for any danger, unaware of your presence behind him.

"AHEM," You crossed your arms, glaring at him. Either he was ignoring you on purpose, or he was incredibly deaf and stupid. Rolling your eyes, you slapped the back of his head and watched him hurl into the wagon with a yelp of pain. He turned around on his heels, swiftly, narrowing his eyes for a moment to scan your face. Upon recognition, he grinned and held his hands up in the air,

"(Y/N)! Sweetheart, what are you doing here?" He exclaimed, holding onto your hands. You wriggled out of his grasps, before slapping him across his face, sharply.

"You moron! You left me aboard Barbossa's ship! After everything we've been through, I thought you were a brother to me! Family! You've decided to lurk about and be the prying little-"

"Whoa... now, love, we don't have much time to listen to your usual rants, do we?" Jack interjected your thoughts, raising a finger up. He swayed towards you, looking over your shoulder to ensure that there were no redcoats nearby. His eyes then glanced back towards you, "Listen, I think we should split ways and then meet up back at the docks. What do ya say?"

"I say no," You hiss, "I don't trust your words. We go together, or I'll throw you to the soldiers myself!"

"Darlin', you're a pirate too. You're only doing yourself a disservice here," Jack scoffed, and you clutched onto his collar,

"Try me. You cross me one more time, I won't care if you're my captain or like a brother to me, I shall drive my sword through your head and watch you scream for mercy." You threatened him, before shoving him off. Jack dusted his coat, creasing out the new wrinkles you caused with what he assumed was an indifferent expression on his face - he couldn't hide the slight fear your words caused him. 

As you extended your hand out for Jack to accept, the thunderous footsteps of the redcoats just around the corner caused you both to pick your feet up and run. Jack had hopped over among the roofs, and you had run inside a blacksmith's keep. Grabbing a sword from the sleeping blacksmith, you were set to head back out when you had noticed a shadow emerge from the other side of the door. 

"Oh, bollocks," You whisper, in a panicked tone, leaping behind a wooden table somewhere far enough for cover. You heard the footsteps of someone patter across the room, shifting through some equipment before they loudly whispered,

"Not where I left you..." 

Ah, so it was a man. And judging by the sound of his voice, he was pretty young. You peered, carefully, from the table and noticed his ponytail, and his well-fitted yet a bit dirty clothes. He wasn't bad-looking, surprisingly. He tapped his foot, impatiently, before drawing out his own sword and turned to your hiding spot. Sighing in defeat, you stood up from the cramped place and stretched your arms with a lazy yawn, stalking over to him.

"You're a pirate," He spat, his sword dragging up and down the air as he gestured at you.

"I'm also a lady. Now, this can go two ways. Either you let me go and I find myself back to Jack Sparrow, or I kill you... and find myself back to Jack Sparrow." You reasoned, forcing a smile at him as you made your way to the exit. Within seconds, you felt the tip of the blade against your chin, turning your head to face him. He had a deathly glare on his face but his eyes spoke of something else. Seeing that there was no way out of this without blood being shed, you raised an eyebrow,

"Come now, love, must there be hostility? Fine then, have it your way." You spat, before dragging your sword and jabbing it towards his stomach. He deflected my attack, and swung his sword around towards your neck. Dodging backwards, you lunged forward and elbowed his gut before parrying the thrust of his sword. He fell back for a moment, catching his breath as he shook his head,

"That's cheating." He breathed out between pants.

"Well, that's life, and now help a lady out and let her escape." You snickered, prying his fingers off his sword.

"Ah, but that's where you're mistaken... you're a pirate." The young man smirked, and the front door swung open with Jack at the hands of the redcoats, a sheepish look attached to his stupid face. Glancing back to the now standing young man, you found yourself handcuffed and dragged off with Jack besides you. 

William didn't fail to notice your menacing glare as you were taken away and he let out a proud smirk at the sight. And yet, something felt wrong. In all the years as a blacksmith's apprentice, nothing had excited him as much as this encounter had. He turned to the burning furnace, his thoughts fixated on seeing you.

For one more time, at least.

[queenburd]

“No, look, I’ve looked through this entire meager excuse for a story script, and it offers no explanation as to why we need to kill the princess other than this nonsense about ‘the end of the world’. Oh, I don’t know, this isn’t my area of expertise. I’m more of a—well, I prefer much cleaner stories about mind control and office buildings. None of this murder business. Well. Let’s just see what happens, I suppose. I’m not particularly picky one way or another with how this story goes. You decide, and I’ll do my best to narrate, yes? Alright. Let’s take it from the top.”

TSP narrator DLC route when

[sparrowsworkshop]

"Don't You Worry" by OneWingedSparrow

Main Tags: Twilight Princess, Post-Canon, Zelink, Link & Epona, Fluff, POV Epona, Trust Issues, Retrospective

Summary: Epona notes Zelda's nervousness around Link, and thinks it is undeserved. Read on AO3 Reblogs are appreciated! Hey listen, have a TP Zelda song rec since you're here :) ~

Epona knew her master’s hands. Link’s pull on the reins was never harsh, never hasty. She could not say the same for Fado; that man meant well, but, while occupied with counting the goats they were herding, he always clutched the reins too tightly, putting too much pressure on the bit. Nor would she say the same for the children she loved; whether nervous about being up too high on her back, or simply so confident to be up so high, they would cling to her mane with fervor. Talo especially held a habit of jerking.

When the Bulbins had taken her, they roughhoused her more than even Talo could have. She did not appreciate the rough talons that cut into her skin while they wrestled a coarsely woven bridle over her head and clamped their harshest bit, perhaps better fit for a boar, over her tongue. She did not like the feel of their hands on her reins, as they yanked her hither and yon with no care for her own sense of direction. To them, she was only a vehicle that carried them from one point to the next. She had been glad to break free of their stiff, demanding control.

When her master found her again, his touch was as welcome as a summer breeze from Farore. Gentle, and soothing, and steady, and sure. He guided her, but did not force her; he let her go her own way, but tugged her away from distractions as necessary, ensuring they arrived at their required destination.

Epona knew her master’s hands. She had spent countless years of her life helping Link plow the fields, tote the crops, haul the firewood. She knew the firm kindness by which he brushed her coat, the quiet strength by which he mucked the barn, the fond tenderness by which he patted the goats. Even when the herd got ornery, and he had to wrestle a wayward, bleating fugitive back to the ranch, Link’s might never lost its meekness. Epona knew her master’s hands, and she knew they were trustworthy.

Why was it, then, that the princess of Hyrule seemed nervous of the hand offered unto her?

Glancing back over her withers, Epona shook her mane and waited. For how long the princess had hesitated to receive the gift, it was as if Link had offered a writhing snake instead of a shimmering tiger lily.

The forest whispered a patient breeze to pass the time, while the ever traipsing brook muffled any conversation between the two. Epona swished her tail in warning as a fly droned by. Thankfully, it did not land.

Movement at last caught Epona’s eye. The princess finally accepted the gift, though she received it not in her hands, but in her hair, as the giver—her Hero—carefully reached upwards and tucked the flower behind her ear. No, Epona thought, the princess’ hands were meant to receive something greater than that lovely gift. After all, Link was reaching out once again, and this time, there was no hesitation; the princess let her hand rest in his.

Epona’s ears flicked forward. While she watched in excitement, the two began to wander, their footsteps drifting towards the water that danced with dappled sunlight.

Yes, anyone skittish could discover the truth, even the very princess of Hyrule.

Her master’s gentle hands could always be trusted. ~

[toxintouch]

hii!! I just read cold spots and it was AMAZING!!! Im not sure if you wanted to continue the fic, but if you don’t mind could you continue with Veres part? I don’t know what you would write about but I just feel like that fic has so much potential to be a little 3 part series or something 🙏

<- Cold Spots TYSM ANON!! I put the Vere End at the beginning for ease of reading. For the sake of folks who would like to read this as a stand-alone... I think u can? With the knowledge that the premise of Cold Spots is that Mhin and MC/Sparrow went ghost hunting. Vere is said to have been responsible for a handful of local ghost stories, so…of course he makes some mischief.🦊 Also MC needs some Winter wear, stat.  A very light Possessive Vere warning in this btw, though perhaps in a roundabout way.  Plausible deniability is so important to him.

You putter around in your room at the Wet Wick as you go about your nightly routine. The occasional cheer or thud from below only accentuates your nervous energy, punctuating your reluctance to settle down and get into bed. You smooth the covers with your bandaged hands and fluff the pillow before extinguishing the lamplight. You tug the bedding up above your shoulders, fighting to get comfortable. As your eyelids finally start to droop, the flicker of a shadow catches your attention.   It dances and sways and bends and grows until suddenly it is right in front of you.  On top of you. Silken, blood red drips down onto your face, a knife gleam smile too close for comfort.  You breathe in a gasp, wondering if you should scream. “Vere, what–” “Shhh,” he coos, pressing a finger lightly to your lips.  His breath is hot against your skin. “I only came to keep you warm, pet.”

Heat Signature

“Poor thing.” Vere purrs.  “Your lips are so cold.”  He leans ever closer, his mouth hot over yours–hovering.  His other hand reaches for your face as well, nails trailing against your cheek in a teasing caress.

You feel even the thought of being cold leave your body, replaced instead by the unusual thrill he commands, that strange enthralling sway.

That heat you’ve come to associate with Vere; sweet tendrils of want that nestle in your bloodstream.

You squirm a little, though you can’t move much with him looming over you.

(You should probably do more to protest his intrusion into your room, you think to yourself, though, the majority of you is–curious, daresay even far too eager to–)

“Whatever trouble did you get up to that left you in such a state?”

At this you scoff, tilting your head back into the pillow and effectively knocking Vere’s finger from your lips.  

“As if you don’t know,” you accuse.

Vere looks entirely unperturbed by you shaking him off, his lithe fingers traveling freely along the newly displayed skin of your throat, making your pulse jump.

Vere chuckles at that, dark and silky.

“Being tight lipped about your adventures, hm?”  He angles your face just so, ensuring you meet his sharp eyes, his nose brushing up against yours.  “Not that it matters.  It so happens I do know what you’ve been up to.  Trespassing in places that don’t belong to you.”

“...It was an abandoned building.  I don’t think it really belonged to anyone.”

“And that’s where you’d be wrong,” Vere says, “everything in this city belongs to someone, darling.  You just don’t know what belongs to who yet.”  He peers down at you with laughter in his expression, though there's a distinct edge to it that you can't quite place.

“So, you're here because that building belongs to you...?”

“Hmm, amongst other things.  However shall I make you apologize to me for this most egregious offense?”  He asks airily, shifting until he’s beside you rather than perched over you, resting his cheek in his hand and letting his eyes slip closed. He's the absolute picture of unbothered leisure.  

(You’re not fooled–he’s simply waiting for you to let your guard down before he pounces.)

You open your mouth to deny any debts on your part (though, if your ghost hunting spot was indeed Vere’s hideout, you really do feel guilty) but Vere cuts you off before you can speak.

“Alas, I suppose it’s not mine anymore.  Within a week it will reek of wet dogs and cheap booze. It's a lost cause now that those drooling reprobates know it's inhabitable.  A pity.  By Eridia's standards it really was divine in its heyday.  Good wine, music, dancing.  There was this portrait artist who would paint the performances…”

His tone remains light as he reminisces.  But the look he pins you with is dangerous: his eyes gleaming bright, his canines bared in an irreverent grin.

“I had such hopes and dreams of reviving the place myself.  Some of the dances were very scandalous.  You never did share with me your stance on dancing, did you?”

You stumble out an approximate answer.  It’s…harmless information to give, isn’t it?

Though, judging by how pleased Vere looks, you wonder if you should have refused to say.  He looks positively wicked as he ponders your answer aloud.  “Oh, I’m sure you’ve got plenty of talents to share.  In another life, perhaps I'd have put you on stage.  Though, I admit.  I find myself partial to a private show.”

And–as expected–the moment you let your guard down, he's in your space again, crowding you.  Heat and proximity and the softest brush of his lips against yours, light enough to send a thrill down your spine, curiosity and a want so deep it surprises you.

“Well?”  He purrs.  “Care to audition?”

You can't hide behind the excuse of supernatural sway or charm or the thrall of hypnotic sunglo eyes.  It's not Vere's power that controls you. It's your own gnawing desire; starvation and longing that draws you to him despite all sense.

Kissing Vere is heady.  Dizzying.  

Kissing Vere is like being in conversation with Vere–a constant of giving and taking, being chased after and running to keep up.  It’s enticing and alluring and decadent and never quite enough, over too soon even as you feel yourself losing air, the rush of blood and sensation threatening to overwhelm you.

He gives a parting nip to your bottom lip as he pulls away.

Then another one, playful, to your jaw.

When he presses his face into the side of your neck, you expect him to bite again.

What you don’t expect is for him to nuzzle into you, inhaling deeply before heaving a great sigh, his tail flopping lazily to land across you with a thump.

He’s officious as he rearranges the covers, ensuring your arms are tucked carefully away from him before he’s willing to fully settle into the bedding, pulling the blankets up around the both of you like a den.  He hums something low in his chest as he tucks himself up alongside you, long tail curled around your waist. 

It’s rhythmic–

purring.

And it’s…soothing, actually.

The weight of him, the warmth.  The incessant lamplight of the Amaryllis District, shining ever present through your window, is dim–tolerable, even, courtesy of Vere's magnificent shadow manipulations and the blankets sheltering you. 

The constant noise seems to fade away as well, obscured by the sound of purring. “Falling asleep when you have me in your bed, pet?  You really do try your luck…”

[mielkae]

Mcyt as Writing Prompts pt. 6/?

[captain-camille]

_𝐠𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐜𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐞_

‣ Jack Sparrow x f!reader

‣ As a young woman of noble blood, society is a golden cage. There is no mention of you unless the subject is marriage or manners while your trip to Port Royal has become a rescue maneuver. One faithful night aboard the Dauntless you finally snap. And meet the captive Captain Jack Sparrow...

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 18+ language, old society rules, emotional chaos, very light angst ‣ 3,4k words

Your dress weighed heavy on your shoulders, the corset strangled your lungs to a delicate point where you began to feel dizzy.

Silver cutlery laid untouched next to your empty plate. The hunger had long passed. 

Either way was it impossible to properly eat with this torture device crushing your ribs. You would fetch a banana later.

“Miss Sheffield“ Lord Somerset hardly drew your attention while he adjusted his white wig “I find myself greatly invested in the many stories of your brother. They're indeed impressive, are they not?“.

It took nerves to hinder your eyes from rolling.

Instead, you gave him an appreciative but short nod. There was bitter sarcasm within the subtlety of your gesture.

Another man's head, adorned with a teal hat with feathers, turned towards you. Father.

“They are, clearly“. You verbally lend weight to your faux-assent as your father's stern gaze fixed on your face.

You suspected him pleased now.

However, his interest in you promptly vanished and a song of praise of someone else continued to fall from his pale lips.

Sweet, boisterous praise for your great brother, of course. 

You were sick of it but with time had begun to see it as an opportunity to reign over your own life as freely as possible.

For as long as possible.

Every eye and word was on your brother while you, the sister of the new Governor of Nassau and member of the Privy Council, were neigh invisible.

And still you could never leave the shiny prison that was the English noble society. Like living in a nightmare that had occasional sunlight in it but was full of madness anyway.

As the men's triumphant laughter echoed across the room, you pictured how Davy Jones' Locker would be a better place to bide your time.

Or maybe you should run away and live a seamstress' life. Alternatively, a barmaid.

In the corner of your vision you saw Norrington slightly leaning over to you. The new Commodore stationed in Port Royal, as he was.

“You look fabulous tonight, Miss“ he cooed, voice low.

His blue gaze rested on the glittering necklace you wore. A collective of silver, sapphires and pearls Lord Somerset had gifted you upon boarding the Dauntless.

Or perhaps Norrington's gaze laid on your cleavage but if so, he concealed it well.

He had to. Hell would come upon him.

You flashed him a polite smile and a demure “Thank you, Commodore“ before your eyes wandered off to the sea that was painted in the colors of a tropical sunset.

The windows were small but still incapable to diminish the glimmer. It went straight to your heart...

“Since you are a young woman, too-“ the man continued, hoisting a chalice to his lips. Beneath the table, your hand balled in a fist.

It did little to soothe your nerves, though.

“-I wondered whether you would think Elizabeth liked such jewelry as, um, a wedding gift?“ his smooth voice asked but the hesitant tone betrayed him.

You had long seen it in his eyes that Norrington's desires to marry Swann's daughter weren't as honest as he tried to make it seem.

Just as Elizabeth struggled to let go of the young blacksmith Will Turner she was currently trying to rescue.

Just fellow souls lost in this noble dilemma, you almost chuckled to yourself.

Luckily, you were quick enough to bridle any inner jests and looked back in Norrington's eyes.

“I’m most certain she would be delighted. However, it occurred to me that Miss Swann prefers silver to gold.“ you advised him before he got dragged back into a naval discussion with the men. 

Not even thanks were left for your input.

Once again your brother's name was thrown around like a cricket ball. 

The urge to just leave this charade of a dinner grew stronger while darkness began to fall upon the majestic Dauntless.

Candle light reflected in the men’s white and grey wigs like it would in the feathers of doltish pigeons.

Nearly scoffing, the focus of your eyes blurred.

Thoughts wandered off to the small bits of information you had grasped throughout the last two days; a business trip to Port Royal had turned into quite an amusing rescue maneuver as Norrington spotted the smoke signal Elizabeth was sending from a lonely island. 

She was brought onto the ship along with a mysterious pirate who turned out to be none other than the notorious Captain Jack Sparrow.

Lord, he seemed so different to the men you were used to. So interesting…

“Yn, the Lord's question was, would you be his companion on a visit to your brother?“ The raspy voice of your father suddenly cut through your thoughts like a sharp knife. 

You cleared your throat, hiding a muttered “god, no“ along the cough.

No, you simply couldn’t do this any longer tonight.

Tomorrow morning the misery would begin anew and the nights were too short anyway.

Dinner was over for you, you decided and shot up, heading towards the door. 

“Young Miss, where do you think you are going?“ your father called across the room, causing you to spin and face him along with everyone else seated on the grand table.

An unreadable expression settled on your face, lips moving on behalf of your temper. 

“Father, I do believe you won’t miss me much while conversing solely about my brother“. 

Norrington let out a shaky breath, his head turning to expect your father’s answer. Obviously, he was used to Elizabeth's docile manners.

The grey wig beneath Lord Sheffield's hat shifted slightly as he cocked his head.

He looked ridiculous. 

“Then go, yn. I do not have the time nor the patience for your behavior right now“ he sighed, waving his hand in an enervated gesture of dismissal “Check on Miss Swann when you pass by“.

The stingy sensation of the corset fighting your big breaths vexed you, along with your father's aloof attitude.

Nevertheless, he granted you exactly what you wanted; to leave and mind your own business.

A business that had preferably sparsely to do with these men.

“Thank you, sir. I will“ you curled your lips, forcing a hasty smile before your knees bent in a curtsy. “Lord Somerset, thank you again for the generous gift. Commodore“.

The Lord stood up with his chest puffed, trying to address you. “The pleasure is all mine, Miss Sheffield. I wish you a good-“  

But the rest of his irrelevant set-phrase was cut off by the door closing behind your back. It snapped shut with a soft rock of the Dauntless.

As if she felt sorry for you.

Taking a big breath of the fresh sea breeze your tongue finally spoke some truth. “Damn you, Somerset“.

It felt good, even if it did little to improve your situation.

You knew you had to get away from the cabins or else your words of pent-up frustration would eventually find them.

Maybe you would find solace on the quarterdeck instead?

As you marched up the stairs with a grimace on your face from how impractical the heavy dress was, a young maid brushed past you with filled wineglasses on a silver tray. 

She smiled with respect, but could barely hide her excited look at the luxurious necklace.

Her soft lips parted when she spoke up in awe “If I may, Baron Somerset really is doting upon you, Miss“.

At her comment, the matching earrings with the similarly cut sapphires began to itch.

“So it seems“ you answered flatly, still trying your best not to let it all out on the innocent girl. 

“I happen to have overheard him talking about how beautiful your children would be“ she added with enthusiasm, unaware of your aversion to said nobleman.

You felt your gut twist and tighten at the vision alone. 

Children with this man? No.

On the brink of screaming or crying, your hand flew up to grab one of the glasses.

“Did he now?“ You hoisted it and bathed your upper lip in the sweet taste of Portuguese wine “Golden me“. 

Hearing her colleague call for her, the maid quickly curtsied and made her way down to the main cabin.

You sighed heavily, taking another sip.

Up on the spacious quarterdeck you wasted no time, set the glass down on a random barrel and began to take off your earrings. 

They were burning on your skin now.

Anger, chagrin and despair rioted in your veins like a hurricane.

So untamed, you didn’t even notice the man at the helm observing your actions through curious eyes.

“To hell-“ you shouted, kicking your right foot so that your shoe flew overboard in a wide arc “with you, father“ the other shoe followed suit.

“And Somerset“ you tossed one earring into the black sea, holding the other one while you unhooked the expensive necklace.

You didn’t hesitate a second to proceed with this macabre yet somehow weirdly freeing act of rebellion.

With your right arm outstretched, jewelry in your hands, you stood at the ship’s railing, wind in your face.

“And to the depths with this society of hypocrites and it's stupid rules“ your now hoarse voice exclaimed bitterly before your tossing arm got stopped mid way. 

What?

Twisting on your stocking feet, you ended up only inches away from Jack Sparrow’s face who was grinning at you with a pleased sparkle in his dark eyes.

You didn't dare to breathe, mouth agape.

He was still holding onto your arm even though you had lowered it in a mixture of shock and awe.

“Not good. Ye wouldn't wanna be doin' that, lassie“ the pirate purred, gold teeth adding to the captivating shine of his eyes.

Since the Navy took him prisoner, you had never spoken to him. Only eves-dropped when he had persuaded Norrington as if it was easy.

And now you could feel his breath fan across your face, the scent of the sea and rum intoxicating your brain.

Slowly, he unwrapped and lifted his fingers off your arm. One by one like a fan.

“Why not? You cannot stop me“ you eventually found your courage again and yanked your arm away. 

The man scrunched his brows, lips closing. The many trinkets in his dreadlocks clinked as Sparrow cocked his head.

Your eyes were slaves to his eccentric mimic for a little while before you finally got to step back.

His presence somehow calmed you down, brought your nerves to a halt. All the way to the point where you remembered your manners.

“My apologies, Mister Sparrow. I didn’t mean to-“ you began to apologize for the snappy behavior but he interjected with a finger pointing at you.

“Never be sorry for disobeying rules that aren't worth following, luv“.

Irritated by the unexpectedly wise words, you found yourself at a loss for an answer.

This man was a real pirate after all. The closest thing to an anarchical life there was. 

Your heart pumped awe through your veins that began to pacify the storm within. 

Features dropping from trained, polite distance to honest distress, your gaze darted down to the jewelry in your hand. It was worth at least as much as your entire collection of summer gowns. 

The blue stones seemed somewhat black tonight.

As grim as your future. With Somerset. Or any other noble, dim-witted aristocrat. 

The pirate just stood and watched the tragic poem being written all over your beautiful face. His silence allowed the gears in your mind to shift.

Then, you seemed put.

“What even are you doing at the helm, Sparrow?“ You asked to avoid any potential questions when you mindlessly chucked the bundle of jewelry to him.

He grinned again as an audible clink and clatter signaled you that he had caught it.

You were sure that Sparrow had a better use for it than you did. Whatever it may be.

Admittedly, you would have just thrown it overboard or locked it away in a random jewel casket for eternity.

A husky gravel met your ears when he cleared his throat after sinking the necklace deep into the inside pocket of his brown jacket.

It was as if he knew you didn't have any expectation of thanks or desire for inquiring about your deed.

“Isla de la Muerta can only be found by those who already know where it is-“.

Slow steps of heavy boots on wooden tiles neared you from your left.

“And rumors have it me, meself and I have a heading Norrington doesn’t, savvy?“ Sparrow slurred, snapping open a compass as he leaned his back against the railing next to you.

With your eyes raking over the dusk ocean, you couldn’t help but risk a peak over to his hands.

You grimaced. The compass obviously didn’t point north.

Was he tricking the Commodore?

Suddenly, Jack chuckled, clearly having seen your expression.

“Nah... tale for another night“ he simply stated closing the small, brown box again.

His intense gaze crawled all over your side profile and pinned updo. “Tell me somethin’ about ye, Missy. Plagued by those wig-suckers, eh?“ 

You gave a snort of laughter, enjoying his unfiltered way of addressing the men you were used to calling 'Lord', 'Governor' or 'Commodore'.

“You know exactly who I am. Do not call me Missy“ you snapped, biting down a playful smile no one had ever elicited as easily as the foreign pirate did.

Perhaps it should worry you but it didn’t in the slightest. 

Jack arched his figure to lean back more and study your edged expression from the front. You tried to shoot him an unfazed look but the pirate saw right through it and smiled widely. 

How he could read you so emphatically was far beyond what you were used to from men. It confused you. 

Just as it puzzled Jack that your behaviour was so devoid of any of the hospitality and judgement he had come to expect from your class.

It only drew the both of you deeper into whatever this conversation would become.

“Apologies, me bad. Miss Sheffield“ his deep voice cooed, finally cracking your surface and putting a soft blush on your cheeks.

“It never occurred to me that Pirates can be this charming“ you snickered with a hint of irony, eyes resting on Sparrow’s unique features for a moment.

His tanned skin was reflecting the flickering light of oil lamps. Sparrow was a handsome man, you realized.

Effortlessly and in tune with the ship's rocking, the man pushed off the railing to trail behind you.

“I always expected Pirates to be more- rogue, I suppose“ you mused, more to yourself.

Sparrow tsk'ed but he didn't seem hurt.

Your head cocked when you felt his hot breath close to the nape of your neck.

“A Shilling that I can alter your outlook on Pirates all by me onesies, eh?“ His comment was nonchalant and smug but in a swinging way.

This man had nerves. 

“Didn't I just give you a collier worth far more than one Shilling?“ you asked rhetorically, amplifying the perky tone.

The pirate hummed, as if contemplating. “Alright, then. Consider your debt paid“.

It was utterly refreshing to converse so freely without any rules or boundaries. You grew fond of it with every passing second. 

When Sparrow didn’t re-appear on your other side, you turned around to spot him chugging down the wine you had abandoned in your rage.

“Sorry, it’s no rum but-“

“-good. That’s good“ he complimented the red liquid, analyzing the ornate chalice through narrowed eyes before he sat it back down.

Carefully, with his pinky stretched out with decorum.

You caught yourself giggling but promptly covered your mouth with a palm. Habits. 

“So, Miss Sheffield...“ the pirate urged you, swaggering closer until he stood by your side again. His elbows were quickly propped on the reddish railing.

“Pray tell“.

You sighed. However, the will to empty your heart was unbreakable. 

It was easier when your gaze found shelter in the darkness of the Caribbean night but Sparrow’s stare lingered on you nonetheless. 

“I- I feel like- No, I am trapped. Trapped in a golden cage with only dull bumbles who want to possess women of standing as if they were accessories for their prevalence-striven plans“ you began to complain, your words gaining speed and intensity throughout the sentence. 

Honest pity flashed behind the pirate's charcoal outlined eyes.

The man had never thought he was capable of pitying those who were born with a silver spoon in their mouths.

And still, there he stood, stricken by the pain in your melodic voice.

You gasped for air, your mind wanting to go on but your throat began to burn on the verge of crying.

“I must behave according to the rules of society, no matter what it is I truly desire. All the poisoned praise goes to my brother while I am only of importance when the subject of my marriage is discussed“.

“Ye brother be the new Governor of Nassau?“ Sparrow eventually asked, his gaze sliding down to where your nails were nervously scratching lines into the wooden railing.

You couldn’t help but scoff in annoyance of his title. “Yes, that be him“. 

The man next to you shrugged his shoulders, the trinkets and charms once again clinking. You would love to find out where he got each of them from.

“I could, in fact, sack Nassau port for ye as soon as I rip me Pearl from Barbossa’s slimy, old hands“ a tad of disgust infused his bold words at the foreign name.

“Jus' a humble offer. What ye say, lassie?“. 

Sparrow was trying to cheer you up.

A small smile began to reign over your lips again, toes curling. “That would only get you killed, fierce pirate“ you noted, trying to sound as judicious and rational as possible.

Instead, he grinned even broader and spread his arms in an eccentric, self-presenting pose. “I’m Captain Jack Sparrow, luv“ he declared as if it was self-explanatory.

For the first time in a while the sea breeze caught and carried your sincere laughter.

Sparrow’s braided goatee twitched as he found himself biting his lip at the pretty sound and look.

You were a stunning woman in noble clothes with noble blood in your veins but with a spirit as wild and ravenous as his own.

You enthralled him.

“Bring this to my daughter. She shall eat, at least. The Commodore risks too much by rescuing young Turner, he cannot afford to see his fiancé unwell“ Governor Swann’s order suddenly boomed across the main deck, followed by hasty steps of a maid.

Instinctively, Sparrow snaked his hand around your shoulder, across your chest and pulled you back with him.

Out of sight.

His rough hand on your mouth muffled a shrill cry just enough. 

“They thinkin’ yer asleep, eh, Miss Sheffield?“ His voice was lowered, almost just a husk and yet it was filled with this mischievous, flirtatious tone.

God, this man sent shivers down your spine like no other. 

But he was still a lawless pirate.

A prisoner, even.

Suddenly, whyever, the gravity of your situation and the futility of tonight's zeal made you feel how cold and wet the floor was without shoes.

Brown dreadlocks pressed against the back of your head irrevocably disheveled your updo. 

“Asleep, as I should be...“ you muttered, infused with a hint of re-surfacing anger and despair.

You wriggled yourself out of his protective grasp. The pirate's brow was raised, eyes narrowed on your face.

There was a haze of danger and waywardness about Jack Sparrow that made you question your own courage and spirit. 

“Why did I even tell you all that in the first place?“ you exclaimed, hands thrown up. Slowly stepping away from him, you felt all the emotions crushing your mind.

“You most likely do not care, neither do I profit by wailing. It doesn’t bear contemplating...“.

Sparrow wrapped his right hand back around the handle of the helm, looking rather unfazed by the confusion that was spreading in your system like the Portuguese wine in his own. 

Heavy silence and the occasional laughter from the men in the Captain’s cabin mingled with the soft splash of sea water. 

Your feelings were now as erratic as the rhythm of the crashing waves.

“Look 'ere, luv“.

Your gaze was just about to turn from pleading to the usual bored emptiness as you saw his free hand wander down to his leather belt.

A smirk adorned his bearded face when skilled fingers rapidly detached the compass and threw it over to you.

Stumbling slightly as the ship rocked, you caught the brown box before it could hit the ground.

You heard Sparrow mutter a muted “Thank god“ that made you want to snap at him but the gesture was too interesting not to query.

Why would he think you needed a compass?

Fluster painted your features when you met his weirdly satisfied expression.

“Aren’t you Captain Jack Sparrow? Don’t you need a compass for... that?“ You asked with less challenge in your tone than initially planned.

He chuckled beautifully, shaking his head with eyes closed.

“What?“ You probed when his dark gaze began to rise up from the floor, along your figure.

“I may be without me compass but not without heading and a plan“ the pirate finally explained, taking another step closer to the helm “You, contrastingly and tragically, lack both“. 

Your arms came up and crossed defensively in front of your chest.

But his words and the tight corset made you drop them again rather quickly. 

He was right. You had been lamenting about your situation barely three minutes ago.

“So? What exactly is your compass going to change about that, Sparrow?“.

You peered down at the inconspicuous looking box.

“Everythin'.“ Sparrow stated with a touch of mystery. “Listen what ye heart wants and the compass is gonna give ye a heading, savvy?“.

A big part of you wanted to believe what this infuriatingly interesting man promised while another voice was whispering to you how it was literal magic he was implying.

Magic. 

With a hesitant gesture of offering it back to him, you hoped to find out which voice to listen to.

“But you would want it back, right? It is yours after all“ you commented your action with genuine concern and a small smile.

Plus, the fear that Norrington would kill Jack if he couldn’t find the Isla without his compass. 

Captured by the pirate for one last time, you watched his gold teeth flash in a wide grin, his tattooed hand spreading on his chest as a sign of integrity.

He was being honest, you felt it.

“I will be gettin’ it back, luv. Don't ye worry“. 

Before you creeped down the stairs and eventually headed for your cabin to ponder on your heart's desires, the last you saw of Captain Jack Sparrow was a charming wink. 

The last for now, at least.

♡ thank you so much for reading my very first POTC fic ever ♡

𝐝𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐮𝐩 𝐦𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐬, 𝐲𝐨 𝐡𝐨

@mochie85 @holdmytesseract @socksracoon10 @goldencherriess @chronicallybubbly @kcd15 @always-on-hiatus

[imyourbratzdoll]

𝒄𝒂𝒓𝒊𝒃𝒃𝒆𝒂𝒏 𝒓𝒖𝒎 𝒄𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒅𝒓𝒖𝒏𝒌 𝒑𝒊𝒓𝒂𝒕𝒆

🍓the strawberry shack masterlist🍓

summary - a drunken pirate named jack stumbles into the strawberry shack, nearly falling in love.

warning - smut, oral sex, gloryhole, alcohol.

18+ only please, the gif and header I use aren't mine.

Warnings and Reminders - Please do not plagiarise, copy, repost/republish, adapt, or translate any of my work on any social media platforms, apps, or third-party sites. The only platforms I post my work on are: Tumblr and Wattpad. I do not own any character of any franchise (Marvel etc.) All my works are fiction and may be dark or triggering content: READ ALL WARNINGS BEFORE PROCEEDING.

Jack stumbled into The Strawberry Shack, leaning against the counter and smirking at the surprised woman in the front. “Wan’ a good blow, love!” She blinks, letting him know the price, and he chucks down a bag full of golden coins. “This shall do.” He slurs his words slightly, smelling of rum, and as he begins to head to the room, he turns and winks. “See you when I come back, love,” Jack smirks as she blushes.

His eyes widen slightly as he enters the room, whistling at all of the beautiful women on display for him. Jack walks toward a specific hole that is known to be yours and knocks on the wood. “Scuse me, miss. I am here to be blown.” He waves his arms around as he talks, sipping the rum held in his belt. “Would you be willing to blow me, love?” 

You giggle, never having met someone like him before. Especially noticing the strong smell of rum that wafts through the hole in the wall. “Yes, I’d be willing.” Jack’s member twitches, loving the sound of your voice and how you are so willing. “Why don’t you stick your cock through, sugar. Let me have a taste.”

Jack wastes no time, immediately undoing his pants and grasping his thick member, guiding it through the hole, and he lets out a groan when your lips wrap swiftly around his swollen tip. Your tongue swirls around it, sucking it deeper into your mouth. You hum, sending vibrations through his cock. Your hand jerks the part you can’t fit, twisting your wrist. “Oi, love! Best mouth I’ve ever had!” 

You become sloppy, gagging and drooling all over his cock, bobbing your head back and forth, choking on him. Jack thrusts forward, throwing his head back and grunting. “I don’t know how you’ve done it, love. But I’m so close.” He slurs, drinking his rum as you suck harder on his cock, picking up your pace, paying special attention to the spot underneath his tip, and flicking it with your tongue before swirling it around, wanting to taste his cum, wanting to see if it tasted like the rum he’s drinking. “Oh!” Jack cums with a shout, gripping the wall as thick amounts of cum spurt out of his swollen tip, and you greedily drink it up.

You suck him dry and lick him clean, moaning as you swallow the last drop of him. “Taste so good, sugar, thank you.” You watch him pull his cock out and tuck it back in, catching sight of the many rings accompanying his fingers. 

“No, thank you, love.” Jack tilts his hat over his eyes and turns. “Goodbye, sweets.” He chugs his rum as he leaves, winking at the woman behind the counter. 

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

[freetobeafcknriot]

the more I think about it the more I don't get how the hargreeves siblings were the problem like sure, s2 and s3 were on them but it was cause-effect to the very first apocalypse in 2019 and literally none of that would have happened if reginald had been just a tiny bit less of a shitty father to begin with. i get that the 43 children were anomalies but how was it on them for just existing ?

[nerd-party]

i have no problem with HC characters as trans, but I feel like a lot of people only hc trans because they want the Character to be 'straight' (I KNOW ITS NOT STRAIGHT, HARD TO EXPLAIN BUT I GUESS HETERO SEX??) some way or another- romance 'straight' or sex 'straight'.

With some characters, it makes sense- sparrow? I think he's cis but I LOVE A GOOD TRANSFEM SPARROW. but wolverine? I have never come across a single thing that makes Logan trans for anything but sex reasons.

It's totally fine to do, but I wish there was an actual good fic of him realizing, telling the other X-Men, and growing to be the wolverine we know and love.

I love trans rep in media, but I wish we had more trans rep for character purposes, not just sex purposes. If anyone can find a fic for trans Logan (or wade) where it's his actual trans journey, I would love to hear it (preferable without smut bc I don't like reading that)

(not trying to imply that you need a reason to hc a character as trans!! Totally nothing wrong with it, all I'm saying is I wish we had more cool fluffy trans realization FICS!!)