#this is my second fic with space pirate. and my second fic where he climbs on something.

[misscrazyfangirl321]

Space Pirate + tree, please!

See, the thing was, right, he knew what it was. Like, objectively, he absolutely did. He might not have gotten the education Mister Fancy over there got (just because he was supposed to be on the ship, not the children of people who hid in the cargo), but he did read books. He knew what a tree was.

But man, that thing was massive. It dwarfed the four of them, branches extending out in all directions, at least twice as big around as him.

He moved without thinking, scrambling up the tree, ignoring the way the bark dug into his palms. It was much more textured than the shiny metal of the ship, much easier to hold onto as he pulled himself up. Higher, higher, not giving a thought to the ground; there was only up.

It was.... Okay, he could admit it: it was pretty. Maybe even beautiful, or whatever. From all the stories he'd heard up top, this place should've been a wasteland, but Allie's peeps... For all that the way they treated her was messed up, they'd done a good job with the land. Everywhere, as far as the eye could see, fields of vibrant green.

Ryn would love it up here.

Not letting himself overthink it, he called down to her (and whoa, okay, he was a little higher than he realized), "Hey, Ryn, come check this out!"

Her answer came with a laugh that did nothing to disguise her terror: "No thanks, I don't really do heights!"

Well. He'd have to help her with that sooner or later, but in the meantime... He grabbed a leaf, the most vividly green one he could find, and made his way back down, way less gracefully than he'd ever admit.

"Here ya go!" He held out the leaf, and Ryn grinned, tucking it behind her ear without hesitation. And... Yeah. She was beautiful.

[lovekabaneri]

Hot Rod and the Lost Light in TF Mecha AU

Inspired by @keferon 's Mech Pilot Jazz AU and all the other fics shared here and on ao3, plus some really good ideas and fanart!

I was really inspired after reading the Hot Rod and Lost Light posts, where he's a titan and Roddy is just... this tiny speck of a human next to the titan, yet they somehow connect! So I wrote this! These are just rough drafts and ideas I have in my head for now. Will see if I write more on them.

-Richie Torres or Hot Rod, as he preferred to be called, was a hyperactive kid from the very beginning. He always seemed to be running at 110% to the dismay of his parents whenever they had to get him to bed. Before the invasion, he dreamed to be an athlete, then a doctor like in those medical dramas, then a fighter jet pilot, then to be a pirate or a sailor, then an astronaut, basically every profession that seemed to be action-packed and interesting. When the aliens arrived and the mech program started, it was like something in his mind clicked “This it what I want to do! This is the right thing for me!” and he knew what he wanted to work as. He became a volunteer at 21, then became an official pilot at 23 after 2 years of training and prep for a Neurolink implant. His first connection was overwhelming and he got a serious nosebleed after he was done but for the first time he felt like he found somewhere where he fits. His second time is much better and he’s a natural pilot. Then he gets to an actual battlefield after the test period he had to do to see if his brain would not turn to mush, and he somehow makes his mech catch on fire, the next time it repeats, again and again but he always gets out fine. Everyone is baffled because there shouldn’t even be anything to combust like that in a robot that was mostly metal. They can’t deny his results though, so they start building a custom mech, covered with as much fire-resistant material, then they start adding multiple exhaust pipes and vents to deal with the overheating, then metal rods and ports to expel even more of the heat. Eventually being on fire becomes Hot Rod’s thing, hence how he got the nickname, because his mech was fire and literally the only mech in the US force that used superheated air and fire to roast the aliens on the battlefield.

-He and Jazz become bffs as they both are natural at driving their mechs like it is a second skin, they both like music and sports, they both hate and fear Shockwave and are just bros that like vibing together. When Jazz is lost in space, Hot Rod is pissed and makes in HR’s problem, so he’s put on a short leave to ‘cool off’, like he could ever cool off! He takes out his frustration through training, fighting aliens even more aggressively and going out on extreme climbing.

-After a really bad week, troubles with the superiors, reports, pr stunts, photoshoots, seeing First Aid pulled out panicked and bleeding out of Vortex after the las surprise invasion where the haunted mech was almost smashed and forced to retreat, Hot Rod had to let off all the steam or he felt like his mech would spontaneously combust when he links again. He takes a few days off with permission and a note from Ratchet. Despite being retired, the old doc was still on call in emergencies and in Hot Rod’s phone, so he really owed one to the grumpy medic. Roddy goes hiking alone in the mountains, since he just needed time away from people. He likes things extreme, so after setting up camp, he goes climbing up the cliffs – it is steep, it is dangerous and he’s all alone, so he’s screwed if something happens to him but he doesn’t care, he just needed to let all the pent-up energy out. He’s pretty high up and away from any of the hiking trails or usual climbing spots when he slips and his handhold breaks off. He falls down a crevice and the only reason he’s not dead is the safety rope that was holding by literally the very last pin after he plummeted down. He’s scratched and a bit banged up but alive. He tries to get back up but the friction against the sharp rocks caused his rope to start breaking, so Hot Rod is forced to quickly find a stable place to stand, so he doesn’t fall and die. He’s all alone, in a crevasse between the rocks, sitting on a small ledge, barely big enough to hold him. He has to get out but his phone doesn’t have signal and he barely had any food or water to last him until someone might find him, if he was ever found.

-He decides to risk it and using his surviving gear and rock-climbing skills, he continues on, looking for a way out of this giant crack in the rocky mountain. As he goes further, he notices the crevasse actually has a flat bottom and it leads to some cave. It was too steep and risky to climb up, hence why he got low enough to see the bottom, but when he touches the ground with his feet, he feels a shiver/shock and almost like a breeze. He doesn’t know what but something from further in is calling him, he’s compelled to go further. He ends up in a large cave system, hidden until now from humans, and then, lodged within the rocks and dirt is an absolutely massive alien ship, the biggest Hot Rod has ever seen, (since until then aliens just opened portals or at most sent drones) bigger than the mech hangar at base, probably! He was scared but also awed by the sight. He was in wonder how such a ship was hidden from humanity for so long, how many millennia was this ship buried there? He approached the odd, slightly blocky, white alien ship, he notices some odd, faded letters he didn’t recognize on the side, done with red paint along with a face-shaped symbol that had to be some emblem. The ship was a bit of a wreck and obviously no one had been there in a long time, hence why he strode in so confidently, everything was dark and he had to use a flashlight. The halls, the doors, the items inside were all massive, it was big enough for mechs to casually walk through. “Are all aliens just giants?! Why did we get the short stick?!” – he says to himself.

-Hot Rod wanders for a long time, the ship was that massive, when he stumbles into a circular room after deciding to crawl through a vent, he was also a bit lost, it is mostly empty with some chairs and odd devices but he felt something different inside. It was like the air itself was charged with some energy. (It is the Lost Light’s control room but he doesn’t know that, yet!) He feels his hair stand up, like with static electricity and the feeling kept getting stronger as he got closer to the platform in the middle. He is curious and decides to climb up on the platform and walk around, maybe touch something. It is then that he places two hands on the metal below and he feels like a shock has run through his system. Suddenly the humm in the air becomes louder, lights start to flicker and slowly come to life, the whole ship seems to almost be groaning as the systems boot up. There’s almost a *thrum-thrumm* sound just ECHOING through the whole place. Hot Rod’s reaction is panic and “OH SHIT!” and he just jumps off and runs back. [sjnha…HHJsaonxc nc?] some gibberish sounds from somewhere above and Hot Rod just books it out of there as fast as he can, and he actually finds his way out too easily. Somehow, in his panic, he also found a way out of the cave, which was narrow and well-hidden in the forest between a few trees. He goes back to his camp and goes back to his home right after that. But even days later he can’t stop but think of the strange alien ship, there’s also this… warm, buzzing feeling in his chest, somewhere and he realized that it just FEELS RIGHT!

-Lost Light was a titan and a ship, its crew was part of the Autobots and helped fight for the cause but after an incident, it went MIA, thought to have been destroyed, along with its crew and previous captain and Cityspeaker – Rodimus Prime. But it actually was not destroyed, it crashed on Earth a few million years ago and was simply dormant after the shock caused by Rodimus’ offlining. BUT! The Lost Light woke up! He felt the connection! His processor was booting up and even if all his systems were not yet online and he was damaged and his nanites would need a while to repair him to a completely functional state, he was alive and woke up! His processor was jumpstarted when he felt that old connection light up with energy and life, just like when Rodimus connected with him! It felt like a dream or was this just his imagination? Was the captain really alive?! His systems were still booting up when he felt that small, bright, blazing spot in his control room jolt and run off somewhere [Captain… is that you?]  he asked but the spark didn’t stop, it continued moving, the Lost Light just opened a few doors to one of his entrances. He couldn’t do much more but to observe as his Cityspeaker left in a hurry, he wanted to follow but he was damaged and couldn’t move, even if he desperately wanted the captain back. The only thing that assured him it was not a dream or a glitch was the fact he still felt the connection with his captain with his spark and knew that wherever the captain was, he was alright.

-Hot Rod can now dream of the Lost Light and sometimes communicates with him in his sleep through their connection, playing off some ‘human technically have EM fields’ and a bit of reincarnation stuff, but thinks it is a dream, until Jazz comes back and/or he finds out Ratchet has alien robot roommate? He tells them he found an alien ship and that maybe they can use it to get back home when the government goes after them after Jazz saves Prowl.

-Shockwave makes deal with the Quintessons, since he’s crazy and has no morals, only science and their offer was better than the army’s. He takes control over the mechs and pilots through the link. Vortex and First Aid try and escape the dream together. Ratchet and Drift along with the rest of the staff organize a rescue. Jazz and Prowl manage to save themselves and go help. Eventually, First Aid and Vortex bruteforce their way out but Vortex will miss having hand after waking up. Hot Rod is trapped and panicking, the Lost Light feels it and the titan has had enough, so the Lost Light flies out of the cave with the grace of a giant alien ship and goes to save his Cityspeaker, because he just found the Captain and he was not losing him again! Needless to say, everyone is shocked, including the bots when the ship flies in and slams into one of the Quintesson ships flying overhead, then transforms into a giant robot. “There were still titans out there?!” – one of the bots asks in shock, since they all thought all titans were gone. Hot Rod is saved and the other pilots are freed from Shockwave’s control. Hot Rod finally sees the Lost Light in person while in his robot mode and Hot Rod is just… this tiny speck on the titan’s finger, but he immediately knows what to do, goes in and with the help of the Lost Light, they fight off the invading Quint fleet.

-Not sure if Roddy and Jazz would be Avatar-ed together or not but it would be cool idea and Rodimus Prime returning from the dead and reincarnation was something I really enjoyed! Jazz just has to be able to stay with Prowl forever, plus I liked the idea of him becoming a cybertronian in the end, so with some Allspark/Space alien magic mumbo jumbo and boom! You got a couple of brave, selfless humans being cybertronians! Jazz for sure would get injured in the final battle and almost die before becoming a bot.

[genogenocrazycatman]

Throne - Chapter 16

Throne [Archive of Our Own, FanFiction.Net]

Characters:  Original Female Character, Red Haired Shanks, Benn Beckman, Lucky Roo, Yasopp,

***

“I can be very disarming.”

“Looks like you’ve been disarmed,” I jabbed, not looking up at him.

Benn let out a loud laugh at that.

Shanks grinned. “You wound me.”

“Clearly, I’m not the only one.”

Hello people. So if you don’t know, what’s going on here then the simple version is that this a Shanks x OC fic.

If you follow me, and the One Piece stuff I write, then you’ve probably heard me talk about this fic. Hey look it’s finally here.

***

Chapter 16

Of all the ways that I had expected my reunion with the Red-Haired pirates (which I admittedly thought about way more than I probably should’ve), silence was never an option.

  In the scenarios my brain had conjured up, there was annoyance, confusion, indifference, and sometimes excitement, but never silence.

  But as I stood at the entry of the tavern, silence was exactly what I was met with. The crew had paused their actions, seeming to freeze in place, save for Shanks, who was casually sipping from the mug in front of him, trying to hide his amusement at the whole situation.

  I took the moment to take in the familiar faces around me. Lucky had been deep into some story, gesticulating wildly at Lime Juice, the mutton chop in hand further exaggerating his movements.

  Yasopp was bent over the pool table, shot still lined up. The guys around him, either new to the crew or locals, stared in confusion.

  Monster was unsurprisingly perched on Punch's shoulder, the two of them in a booth with Snake and Gab. Hongo was at the bar next to Benn, who, if I had to guess, had been chatting up the blonde woman sitting next to him based on the miffed look on her face.

  An empty space was between her and Shanks, who just winked at me over his mug.

  I shook my head, unable to fight the muscles in my mouth, as they pulled my lips up into a smile. God, they were idiots. “Red-Haired Pirates, speechless? Didn’t think that was possible.”

  Benn was the first to recover, glancing over at the Boss before returning to me, smirking around his cigarette. “Good to see you, Liz.”

  And just like that, the dam broke. A tidal wave of "Liz!" and "Lizzie!" crashed over me, leaving me momentarily stunned by the joy and excitement radiating from the crew.

  Lucky quickly pulled me into a bone-crushing hug, my feet leaving the ground. I had barely touched the floor before I was picked up again. I let out a squeak as I was lifted and spun around.

  Sure, I had hoped this would be a fun little surprise when I was with Shanks earlier. Maybe this would be a little 'Hey, look who's here!' moment, but I wasn't prepared for this.

  I was back on the ground for maybe a second when Yasopp slung an arm over my shoulder. “Liz, how the hell have you been?” he asked, leaving the game of pool he was playing behind.

  “That feels very unfair,” I said, nodding to his competitors, who maybe didn't quite realize they'd lucked out. I tried not to pull a face as I turned my head to the right, silently cursing the scarred skin around my neck for its lack of elasticity.

  “Not my fault that the new kids don’t know better,” he snickered as he started leading me to the bar.

  So, they were new crew members. ‘Good to know.’  "Hustler."

  Monster hopped off Punch's shoulder and ran over, climbing onto mine. "Hey, Bud," I greeted, scratching the monkey's head. I could barely reach. "You're getting big." I looked over at Snake. "So are you. Where the hell did all that muscle come from?"

  Snake smirked, looking at Yasopp as if saying, 'I told you so.' "Thanks, Lizzie. You don't look bad yourself."

  "She never said you looked good," Shanks said. "Just bigger."

  "Don't be jealous," Snake shot back.

  "Don't be jealous, Captain. You already know who my favorite is-“ I winked at Benn over the blonde's shoulder. “But he's busy, so I'll leave him be."

  "Guess you already knew, Boss?" Lucky asked.

  "Of course he did," Benn said, looking over at the semi-circle we'd formed around Shanks’s seat. "He went out for breakfast, a real breakfast before lunchtime, and came back with that dopey look on his face."

  Shanks shrugged and turned towards the bartender. "Whatever the lady wants."

  “Generous as ever, Captain.” I turned to the woman behind the bar. “Whiskey neat.”

  "I thought he was just still drunk," Yasopp said.

  "You've been holding out, Boss," Hongo added.

  "Don't blame the Captain," I said. "I wanted it to be a surprise."

  "It's a damn good surprise," Luck said.

  "I think the biggest surprise was that the Boss kept his mouth shut," Yasopp chirped.

  They all voiced their agreement.

  "Hey! I am perfectly capable of keeping a secret," Shanks argued.

  "Yeah, but you're incapable of keeping your mouth shut when it comes to Liz."

  "Lizzie, when we were in the West, you were all he talked about, and when we left, it was even worse."

  "’I wonder what Eliza is doing?’ ‘We shouldn't have left.’ ‘Eliza poured better.’ ‘We should've left something other than booze as a goodbye gift.’”

  "It's not surprising that he kept a secret if Liz asked him to."

  "With a crew like you all, who needs enemies?" Shanks asked no one in particular, looking up at the ceiling.

  "Could it be? Are you actually embarrassed?" I asked. "Don’t you have to have shame for that?”

  He snorted, looking at me with his signature grin. "Embarrassed that I talk about you? Never. That my crew is willing to expose me like this in a heartbeat? Only a little."

  "You'd be lost without us."

  "Why are you still talking about me?" he asked. “We have an esteemed guest to grill.”

  "No, no, let ‘em go. I've missed this." And I had. Falling into the Red-Haired crew’s particular brand of chaos was easy. It’d only been a few minutes, but already I felt like I had fallen in step.

  "Don't think that you're getting out of questioning, missy," Yasopp said with his hands on his hips, looking creepily like Rayne.

  I cocked a brow as I took a sip of the drink the bartender just sat in front of me.

  "We don't see you for years and go back to find out that you've left your home and took to the seas with no idea of where you went, and you have this harem-"

  "Not you, too,” I groaned.

  “-back in Aurora, who talk about you kicking slave trader ass and cashing in bounties. And then you show up in our territory a year later. That’s got to be one hell of a story.”

  I nodded, not saying anything. I lifted the glass to my lips and drained it, gesturing to the bartender for another, and pulled myself up onto the barstool beside Shanks. Despite the gap between us, I could still feel the warmth that radiated from him.

  New drink in hand, I opened the floor. "Alright, boys. What do you want to know?”

  “What have you been doing?” Luck asked, plopping into a chair, more meat seeming to appear out of nowhere, replacing what he’d already eaten.

  It was an easy enough question.

  ���Bounty hunting,” I answered. “Turns out I’m pretty good at kicking pirate ass, and it makes me a quick buck. I’m willing to take the Captain here off your hands if he’s getting to be a bit much.”

  “Always.”

  Shanks acted as if his first mate hadn’t spoken. “I thought I had more time before you began negotiations.”

  “Just letting everyone know there’s interest.”

  “Please, at least pretend to think about it before you turn me over.”

  Yasopp scoffed. “Like we’d have you turn you over. The second she asks, you’ll go willingly.”

  “You’re a pirate’s daughter and started bounty hunting?”

  I nodded at Lime Juice. “I mean, I didn’t set out to become a bounty hunter. This annoying prick kept running his mouth about this girl he had locked up in his chambers. I guess she was from a wealthy family, and he was banking on a ransom. But he just kept fucking bragging about all the horrible shit he had done to her. Total fucking scum bag. And I couldn’t just let it go. I’ve been in her shoes before. Turns out he had a bounty on his head, so I cashed in. Two birds, one stone type of thing. Got reward for returning the girl too.

  “From there, it was just convenient, making some cash turning in assholes who don’t deserve to breathe.”

  “That how the harem formed?”

  I swatted at Hongo. “Will you fuckers quit calling them that?”

  “I don’t know. They talk about you just as much as the Boss, and he’d definitely be part of your harem.”

  “How about the fan club?” Lime Juice offered.

  “I don’t-“ I took a deep breath.

  “We’ll workshop it,” Shanks added.

  I narrowed my eyes at them. “Mimi, Naya, and Lyric were all victims of idiots I cashed in on, yes.”

  “Explains why they think you walk on water. You saved them.”

  “Yasopp, don’t you think that might be a bit hyperbolic?”

  “Our girl, a hero. Remember when we called that at the tavern.”

  “Ha! No. Heroes don’t do what I did to collect those bounties, Luck.”

  “I don’t think you get to decide whether or not you’re a hero.”

  “Yeah. Other people determine that.”

  “And I should accept hero status from a bunch of pirates?” I questioned.

  “No, but from the fan club.”

  I rolled my eyes but didn’t protest the name this time. Fan club was a step up from harem. “The girls had nowhere to go, so they asked me to start them back to Aurora. Figured that they could start fresh. And after what they’d been through, Tel wasn’t gonna be shit.”

  “Glad that they’ve settled in with Rayne. How mad was she?”

  “Oh, she went on and on about taking care of more strays, but clearly, the three of them are taking care of her, so I think she’s pretty happy.”

  “Good. ‘Bout time the bat let someone take care of her.” Relief at their words seemed to start unwinding the knot I’d had in my back since I left Aurora.

  “She was just as fiery as ever when we saw her last.”

  I didn’t think much about Aurora as a whole, but I thought about Gene and Rayne often. Wondering how they were doing and how they’d adjusted since I had left. Despite their assurances that both were more than capable of taking care of themselves, I couldn’t help but worry.

  Those two had done everything to take care of me while I was there and then everything in their power to help me finally get out. I owed them a lot.

  “Any sign of the Old Man?” I asked.

  “No,” Shanks answered. “Rayne said that your brothers mostly quit coming around after the first year, but he still sent them money to ensure they were taken care of.”

  At least I didn’t have to worry about them going broke if the Old Man was sending them money. It was the least that he could do seeing, as he dropped me off and subjected them to his sons’ visits for years.

  “You haven’t seen him?” Gab asked.

  “Do you think I’d be here if I had?” I challenged.

  I hadn’t seen my father or a single one of my brothers in three years. I knew they were looking for me, and I’d be lying if it didn’t weigh on me.

  Being hunted was stressful. I didn’t have the opportunity to rest. The constant paranoia and fear that I was going to be found didn’t allow for it.

  For the most part, I had stayed relatively clear of the Whitebeard Crew. I spent most of my time in the waters around Sabaody, or hiding out on islands controlled by Shanks, and occasionally sneaking through those loosely associated with Big Mom or Kaido when I was desperate enough. My brothers weren’t stupid enough to risk war without knowing for sure where I was.

  There had been a couple of close calls where I’d barely managed to hide. The only reason I hadn’t been busted was because the crew members in question weren’t particularly close to me.

  Had it been Marco or Izo, and Thatch in any of those situations, I would’ve been screwed. Fortunately, their responsibilities as commanders meant they could be away from their posts for too long.

  “Fair point,” he conceded.

  “There’s been chatter,” Shanks explained. “People know that his men are out looking for something. But people assume it’s related to the One Piece.”

  “Better they think that.”

  While I disagree with every bit of his methodology, I understood why my father had stuck me on Aurora. I’d already been targeted once for being his child. I wasn’t particularly excited at the prospect of it happening again.

  “So why’d you finally leave?”

  I was surprised that they hadn’t started with that one.

  I sighed. “See, these fucking pirates showed up and gave me a little taste of freedom and a chance to leave Aurora, and like an idiot, I said no. But the longer I stayed there, the more frustrated I got. I couldn’t just let things roll off my back like I had, but I also couldn’t actually do anything. It just started wearing on me.

  “I tried working through my frustrations by training with my brothers and honing my skills, something to keep me distracted. In hindsight, maybe I was trying to prepare myself to get the hell out of there finally.

  “But the tipping point was a pirate attack.”

  I shook my head, feeling the familiar anger rise up as I thought about that day.

  “This fucking crew showed up. Hot shit, ready to head to the Grand Line.  Docked and immediately attacked, torching everything in sight. They didn’t ask for anything; they just did it because they could.”

  “You defended your home.”

  “Of course, but it wasn’t easy. I won, but I got the shit kicked out of me. These weren’t your usual underprepared rookies. And they didn’t have to worry about hurting people or property damage.

  “I just needed a couple of minutes to recoup and get the fuck out of there. But Tel saw his moment. The town was on fire; pirates were bleeding everywhere, and I could barely move.”

  Faces around me turned, ranging from somber to outright anger.

  “Stupid fucker shot me, and everyone just stood there and let him.”

  I grit my teeth in annoyance. I had gone through hell to make sure that everyone survived, and it meant nothing.

  I managed to transform just in time so that the shot didn’t kill me. Full Balor, blood pouring from my head, I struggled to get to the tavern, where I passed out in the back.

  “Rayne and Gene got me cleaned up, and that was it. Rayne let me hide my shit. Gene got me a boat and vaguely mapped a course to keep me as hidden as possible, and I was off.”

  “Please tell me you’re why he has that eye patch.”

  “So he went with a patch, huh? Interesting. He telling everyone that he got it in some heroic bout?”

  There was a moment of pause as realization set in. Darkened expressions shifted to satisfaction.

  “You took his eye.”

  I shrugged. “After what he put me through, it only felt fair.”

  “Eye for an eye?” Shanks asked.

  Sometimes, it was easy to forget that underneath the drunken charm, Shanks was sharp as a tack and surprisingly perceptive.

  “Something like that,” I said, winking at him. “I mean, I couldn’t leave him without a little parting gift after his years of hospitality.”

  That caused a couple of the guys to chuckle. “Liz is the hardcore man.”

  “Yeah, good for you. That prick had it coming.”

  “Only you guys would praise me for gouging a man’s eye out.”

  “For standing up for yourself,” Shanks corrected. “And for living your life for you.” He raised his mug into the air.

  “A toast to Miss Elizabeth!”

  “To Liz!” they chorused back.

  I shook my head, clinking my glass against theirs and finishing off my current drink.

  “You know,” I started. “The Captain said he thinks I can out-drink you all.”

  “Them’s fightin’ words, Liz,” Luck warned.

  I leaned back, resting my elbows on the bar behind me. “Bring it.”

  “You’re on!”

  “My money’s on Eliza,” Shanks said, pulling out a wad of notes.***

Previous | Next

***

Master List | Mobile Version

[ka-writes]

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Notes:

I am very sorry it is so late! My birthday was two weeks ago and honestly I have been stressed. Again thank you all so much for the support! All of the comments are lovely, sorry I haven’t been able to respond. Anyways I gift a longish chapter!!

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Warnings: Emotional manipulation, crying, cussing, mentions of pirates.

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Inspired by:

Humans are Space Velociraptors

By:FreshRoses_InMyGarden_NeedTheRain

Some kids come from storks, others come from crashed spaceships

By: mmmajora

Home Again, Home Again

By: teeth_eater

All works can be found on Ao3

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Ao3 link:

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Incase you missed:

Chapter 1:

Chapter 9:

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Chapter 10: “I have some news..”

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Eret woke up to the sounds of unidentified birds.

That was one of the stranger things about space.

Most people theorized about other intelligent species and what not, but from what she heard during her time on Earth, few even touched on alien animal species. And when the few did, they were mainly described as monsters or on a few occasions the pets of other intellectuals.

Still, it was easy to grasp the concept after it was presented to you.

He got up and started the morning routine. Frying eggs and bacon, or something close to it along with a plate of fruit and dried petals being prepared for one of the guests. After starting the tea kettle they made their way to the bathroom to get ready. Once done, they knocked out a few chores before heading towards the stairs.

It was strange. A sense of overwhelming dread came over him. The stairs, which had always been a comfort after a long day, seemed dark and ghostly. Every step added to the anxiety that filled a pit in their stomach. Taking a small breath they climbed the last step and approached the guest bedroom.

One consistent thing was that the room was always laid open for emergencies. Even though the commune itself was closed and relatively unheard of, that room had been filled with people from everywhere. All with a different story, family, connection, job, past, mood, etc. Only few had ever scared Eret to the point where they were relocated, and even fewer had ever escalated. For the most part, the guests that laid behind the door wanted nothing more than to get away from their old lives and start fresh.

Even with past experiences and a relative idea of what the guests had gone through, he found himself struggling to turn the door knob. Leaving a scared shaking hand to hover over the handle. So instead they simply knocked.

It took only two seconds for the two to be out of the room and alert. The droneling looked about ready to scold the human because of their messy golden locks.

The trick itself stunned Eret. It made them think back to the few times she had to stand in the same room as Dream. Shivers from the day still haunted her.

“Good morning.” Eret started, the two looked at the older with a concentrated glance. The droneling seemingly evaluating Eret while the other simply interested in what they had to say. “Please feel free to help yourself to the food down stairs. I left some eggs and bacon on the stove, along with fruits and dried petals on the table. I will be going out to do some chores for about an hour, please eat within that time. We will discuss further plans after I get back.” With that the older left, biting back the sour taste in their mouth.

They hated having to give descriptive orders, but it was one of the things you had to learn in a town full of traumatized starlings. Most wouldn’t eat if there wasn’t a direct enough order, and Eret was not a fan of people starving. Which is why they left room for free choice, in the quantity and such, yet the action itself was descriptive and had a time limit. Which in turn left little room for the brain to panic. Still it felt uncomfortable for them to have to use that against them.

They walked out of their apartment and wandered through the streets. Checking the usual things and making sure the morning routines were in order.

After securing everything and helping, and elderly person carry some boxes, they stepped into the most secure building in the colony.

“Good morning your majesty.” A communicator going by the name of Purpled greeted her.

“Good morning Purpled. Please set up table 23 for communication, along with the latest updates on the SBI and Dream Team crafts.” Eret calmly said while taking a seat.

“Right away, your majesty.” The young starling started on the task. Typing furiously and pulling up a few different search engines before relocating it to the main illusion.

“Alright,” Eret clapped their hands, “Please bring in Foolish, Fundy, and Hannah in please, we are currently holding two well known missing starlings.” With that Purpled contacted the three, but not before swallowing down a gasp.

——————

“Fix your hair.” Tubbo hissed at Tommy as he headed down stairs.

Tubbo was right, his locks were messy and unkempt. They even had a few twigs knotted into them.

…

It took fifteen minutes to fix the unruly hair. That was bad. If Dream saw the mess he would most likely get that god awful spray he always used.

He stepped out of the room, checking down the halls to check for any danger or angry crew mates.

That was strange.. the halls were completely different. Not to mention there were no overhead lights, only lamps embedded onto the small cozy halls. And the walls were made of wood, the floor was a nice warm grey carpet.

As if a brick hit him in the head, the events of the night before flooded in.

He stepped down the stairs, to the smell of bacon, when was the last time he smelled that sweet homely smell?

He filled his plate with some eggs and a piece of bacon. There was really no set rule of how much he could eat, so he grabbed the portion Dream gave him if he did a good thing.

But you weren’t good. You ran away. Now Dream will have to reteach the poison out of you again.

He didn’t want that! He quickly put most of the eggs back into the pan and broke off a smaller portion of bacon.

He quickly ate the portions and ignored the stiffness that surrounded the pair.

——————

Incoming call… The_Eret

That was an unusual start to the morning. Nikki waved to an employee to man the storefront as she headed back into the staff room.

“Hello?”

“Nikki! You’re in contact with the captain of the SBI Craft pilot right?” Sure enough Eret’s voice reached through the com speaker.

“Oh my primes Eret! I honestly didn’t think it was you at first, but yes I am in contact with their pilot, why are you asking?” Her tone changed from sweet to serious in seconds, and she knew Eret could feel the sudden tension.

“I have some news.. don’t worry it’s nothing bad, but I just need to check something first,” Eret paused to recollect thoughts “from your interactions are they a good crew?”

Nikki was a little caught off guard by the question. The crew themselves were an interesting bunch. Everyone knew they were a craft that used to be designed for pirating. While that may have sounded bad to anyone who came from another part of the galaxy, anyone knew they were good people only really fighting a corrupt system. That was also portrayed through the brief interactions they had while they discussed developments on the starlings' whereabouts.

“I.. I would say they’re good people. All of them are stubbornly loyal. They haven’t done anything awful without a plausible cause and haven’t betrayed anyone’s trust yet. They are simply seen in different light by the ISF.”

Eret seemed to be satisfied with the genuine answer, “Good, that’s good. Send a message that I have news on the whereabouts of the missing starlings and would like to have a formal meeting in an hour, thank you Nikki.” They ended the call, leaving a chat room address and a shocked Nikki behind.

——————

Tubbo was planning something again.

He always had this stupid face whenever he was forming the next plan of attack or was trying to get him and Tommy more food. His ears always fell flat on his head, and his antennas twitched while he scrunched his face in concentration.

Oh well.

It couldn’t be anything too bad, especially since the other promised not to kill Tommy if he didn’t get in the way.. hold on there’s a flaw there, he never said he wasn’t gonna hurt Tommy..

As soon as the younger caught on, the older tackled him to the ground and restrained him.

“Oi! WHAT THE FUCK!” Tommy yelled, the older started shaking. Without warning Tubbo collapsed on Tommy causing him to be further trapped on the hardwood floor.

Tears from the droneling soaked Tommy’s shirt and he was overall confused. Never once had the other cried from emotional pain, only ever physical. The human was at a loss for words.

“I… I am so-sorry...” the droneling sobbed. “I was the o-one to take us t-to that stupid s-shop, and now w-we’re here.. The w-worst part is that we’re l-lost..”

His mind ran blank. He had never really been in a situation like this. He never really blamed Tubbo, only ever himself. He was supposed to do everything exactly how Dream asked, therefore it was his fault he got hurt.

“You really shouldn’t apologize…” The human started, “Neither of us knew what was about to happen. The shit we went through can only really be blamed on me. Plus the past is past, best not to think ‘bout it bee boy!” A small giggle came from the alien, “Really the only thing we can do now is take it one step at a time and get you home.”

“Thanks bossman..” with that the two had finally fallen into a comfortable silence.

The birds chirped and the morning glow was still in the air. Mother moved, in fear that if they did the other would disappear forever. A new hope blossomed in Tommy’s heart. Maybe he would finally have a real friend in this hell of a universe. And for once Tommy felt a genuine peace, even if he was laying on the cold floor of an alien’s apartment, but then again when did those details matter?

——————

“Hello.” Eret started, “As you may or may not know, I have information on the whereabouts of the missing starlings.” They looked up from their notes to briefly study the aliens.

One of them was shocked, they had curly brunette locks and looked to be on the verge of tears. They were positioned to the left of the captain. The one to the right was calm and collected yet couldn’t help the shocked glance they shared with the others. The captain was also on the verge of breaking down yet hid it behind a calm expression. So far these were good reactions, which definitely meant she made the right choice.

“The two starlings are both unharmed and are residents in my colony.”

“Oh thank the primes!!” The brunette breathed.

“For your information, I have no idea how they got to my colony or what happened to them.” The three shared glances, “As for transporting I cannot allow you on my planet directly simply for my colony’s sake, but I can transport them to Amari alongside a trusted crew who have already sworn never to harm any passengers. They will then be taken to Nikki who will house them until you arrive. I hope you understand the course of action.”

After a suffocating moment of waiting for the captain to respond the others came to a silent agreement. “We do understand, thank you for taking care of them. We appreciate your help.”

“It is no problem! I just hope I won’t have to do this again.” They sent a glare to the crew before ending the call.

The crew was already preparing the ship and supplies were being delivered to the dock. The only thing left to do was tell the strange starlings they had only met the night before.

——————

Chapter 10-End

Words: 1969

——————

Literally everyone except Dream: Ima protect the children

Dream: I need minions

——————

Thank you again!! Remember likes are appreciated but reblogs are better!!

Go take care of yourself.

<3

——————

[scullysexual]

pirate au fic; i’ll tell you a tale of a pirate queen (1/ )

pirate au | multi-chapter | au | multiple parts | historical au | 18th century | currently no msr (if i continue, comes later) | i’ll post to ao3 tomorrow | wc: 1,123 |

A tale of a Pirate Queen.

I’m gonna try my best to continue and complete this though I can’t say when the next chapter(s) will be cause I think I want to write some more before I post again. Anyway, this hit me and wouldn’t leave me alone. I hope you like it :)

@today-in-fic

- - -

Chapter One: Bound To The Sea Below

She pulls out the tie, shakes out her hair, the wind blowing freely through the strands, tangling the red curls around each other. Her mother would be grabbing the hairbrush and telling her to sit.

But Mother isn’t here right now. Nobody is. Dana can hear chatter behind her, the occasional yell, but she is oblivious to it all. Just the wind in her ears and against her face, her eyes shut as she inhales the salty air.

This was where she belonged, without any rhyme or reason, sailing along the sea, bringing goods to other cities and countries. It just felt right to be here. It felt like home.

She grips the rope tighter, holding on as she adjusts her feet on the rails. One accidental step and she’s falling into the water below, it doesn’t scare her, though. Since she was eight years old, she had been climbing the railings such to everyone’s concern, but not once has she fell off. She even got brave enough to close her eyes and fly.

When she reopens them, her heart sinks a little at the sight of Charles Town Port coming into view. That was it, the adventure was over. It could be months, maybe even years, till she got to come along again.

Being on land, trapped in that house could be tortured some days. Dana couldn’t wait till she was free, until she could sail a ship of her own.

“You need to get down Dana,” she hears Billy, her brother, say to her. “Pa said we’re docking soon.”

His footsteps grow quieter the further he walks away. Dana takes one good look at the water, says her goodbyes, and climbs down. She gathers her hair into a low ponytail and places her very own cocked-hat on her head, and runs towards the cabin.

.:.:.:.:.:.:.

“Can’t I come with you?”

Bags packed, ready to leave any moment, 11 year old Dana sits on the second to last stair watching as her father is about to set off to sea without her.

Her father kneels at the base of the stairs while her mother looks on. He places a hand atop of her clasped ones.

“I wish you could,” he tells her sincerely. “But the journey is too long. Even Billy isn’t going.”

Her brother is also with them, standing off to the side. His grunt tells her he is just as displeased with this arrangement as she is.

Dana pouts and looks towards the floor. It had been almost a year since her last trip, she was itching to go on another one.

“You’re going to miss my birthday.” The trip would last months, an order to be delivered to Spain.

“I will,” her father tells her, guilt laced in his voice. One of many birthdays missed. “But I promise I’ll bring you something back, okay?”

It would have to suffice. Her father had brought many things back with him for various missed birthdays, each gift different and better than the last, though her favourite was the snow globe he brought back from France. The thought of what he would bring her this time gives her a spark of excitement. A smile spreads across her face despite her disappointment. Dana nods.

“Good.” He flicks her nose and she giggles before launching herself into his arms. “I’ll miss you Ahab,” she says into his shoulder.

“I’ll miss you too, Starbuck.”

.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.

On March 7th, there are no presents. There is no father.

Coldness drifts its way through the house, silence following in it’s steps. Soon, her mother’s cries taken silence’s place as it drags through the rooms of the house. March 7th is a cold and harsh day.

Sorrow turns itself into rage, rips through her tiny body as she claws at her bedding and curtains, barrels drawers over, launches objects off her shelves with her arm, they come crashing to the ground.

Her room is a mess and Dana falls against the wall, her hands covering her face as sobs tear themselves out of her, grief pouring out of her.

In the centre of it all lies the snow globe. It catches her eyes and Dana crawls towards it. It’s partially cracked but mostly intact. A ship riding the waves of an ocean. She closes her eyes and holds the globe to her body, flopping down onto the heap.

.:.:.:.:.:.:.

Billy takes over the orders, becomes Captain of The Lassie.

Dana knew that the death of her father meant no more trips, that for the next six or so years, she would never be able to set foot on one. Just as her father was taken before her far too soon, Dana hadn’t wanted that same thing to happen.

On the day Billy was set to make his first orders as Captain, Dana had come barrelling down the stairs, desperate to tag along one last time.

Dressed in her pants, her hair tied back, the disguise she always wore, she begged her brother to let her come along.

“You take up too much space,” her brother had told her.

Dana had shook her head. “I’ll stay out of the way, please.” Desperation in her voice and on her face, she needed to ride the sea. “Pa always let me, regardless.”

“Aye,” says Billy. “And Pa could’ve got in a lot of trouble, like I can now. Besides, girls bring bad luck and I don’t think we want anymore of that.” He goes to grab his bags, to leave her behind. Dana’s heart sinks. Just one last trip…

Billy stops before he leaves, his head against the doorframe and a loud sigh exiting his mouth. He looks towards his sister who fights to keep the tears from her eyes.

“This is the last one.”

A smile spreads across her lips, tears turning into joy.

.:.:.:.:.:.:.

Dana would capture the smell of the sea in a bottle if she could, would place it on the shelf. The sea killed her father but it was still home regardless of its danger.

This trip was her last trip, and was treated as such. She arrived home, a clearer memory of the water in her mind, a smile on her face.

Her sailing clothes are taken from her, locked with a chest in her mother’s room. She keeps her hat, however, hides it at the back of her closet but the day she can take it out and wear it again.

The next day, the corsets feels tighter, an anchor keeping her in place. Her hair is brushed until the tangles are free and it shines. The smell of the sea is nothing more than a distant memory. Dana becomes a vessel docked on the shore.

[captainkappa]

Fanfic:: Hunter and Prey

To be a Mandalorian pirate is to be both hunter and prey. This, Din understood after being taken into their care as a child.

Now he is hunting a Mandalorian artifact to deliver his charge to the aquatic sorcerers in order to teach him how to handle his magic. His quest brings him to a sandy stretch of shore, Mos Pelgo.

Link to AO3

For Day 4 of @dincobbweek aka AU day!

The prophecy as foretold; I have a hyperfixation, therefore I must write a pirate AU. And oh my god, I loved writing this fic so so much.

Huge shout out to @staranon95 for betaing and @ayantiel for providing the needed inspiration to get this thing going!

-=-=-=-

Mayfeld took in a deep breath, letting the salty air fill his lungs. There was a lot riding on today, his reputation, Ran’s reputation, but with the Empire’s finest knelt at his feet, all of their note-worthy possessions, he thought he was doing pretty well.

“No one makes any dumb decisions and you all will get to live,” he called out, voice carrying over the wind so even the poor bastards at the end would be able to hear. “We’re just here for what’s ours and then we’ll leave you be. You’ll never have seen us.”

Xi’an was getting her brother from the prisoners down below and Burg was raiding the captain’s office. Sure, the objective was to get Xi’an’s brother before he made it to the Empire’s colonies, but this was an Imperial vessel. The three of them would have to be stupid not to rob the Imps blind when they had the opportunity.  Plus, their informant assured them that not only was this a prisoner’s vessel, it was a transport vessel, moving a map that led to a whole lot of Mandalorian gold.

It was the perfect plan; do a job for Ran, undermine Ran, get filthy rich, and live the rest of their days on an island in the Outer Isles.

And everything was going great, when Burg burst through the captain’s doors, startling everyone on board. Everyone jumped, bar Mayfeld. Burg cut an intimidating figure, a mountain of a man, horns poking through holes he made in his hat so he had to crouch to get into most places. His sudden presence didn’t startle Migs. What was a surprise was the concern on his face.

“Migs! The captain is dead!”

He rolled his eyes. “And? Do you want me to pay you back for the ammo it took to do that?”

“No, he was already dead! And the map’s gone too!”

His blood ran cold. He gave up the act and ran into the room, grabbing onto his hat so it wouldn’t fly away. His eyes adjusted to the darkness of the room. He couldn’t tell if there had been a scuffle or it had been Burg who had torn up the room. Drawers were half open, hanging out, papers scattered, a blood-spatter, maybe, but there was so little Migs couldn’t tell if it was recent.

And in the center of it all, the captain, dead in his chair. His body was cool, so Burg wasn’t bluffing in saying someone had shot him before. There had been a lot of commotion when they had first boarded the ship, could the thief have entered then?

“You swear he was like this when you got in?”

Burg nodded.

“And he wasn’t holding a pistol?”

Burg nodded again and the evidence confirmed it. There was only one pistol in the room, halfway across the floor. That didn’t happen when someone tried to off themself for fear of the pirates coming on board.

Migs pushed the body to the floor, getting on his knees to root through the drawers, hoping to find the map, to be able to smack Burg upside the head, but there was nothing. He ripped them out of the desk, holding them upside down and shaking them, but still nothing. Just useless documentation with Imperial seals splayed everywhere.

He slammed the top of the desk as he stood up.

“Did you check everywhere?! Every possible drawer, false drawer, any of that bullshit?”

“Yeah! But it ain’t here!”

Migs pulled off his hat, balling up the rim in fist before throwing it back on.

Ran would tell him not to get greedy. There was an unknown element at play now, so focus on getting Qin out and run. With the group back to what it was before Mando sold them out, they could rob big ships again, but who the fuck cared about that. If Ran knew about the map, he would’ve said to hell with Qin, focus on the pay-out.

Migs stormed out of the quarters and back onto the deck. It was too sunny to see, but that didn’t stop his furious walk back to the line of Imperials on the ship. He grabbed the one in the fanciest looking clothing, who he could only assume was the quartermaster or second mate, and hauled him to his feet by his collar.

The man made a choking sound and face-to-face, looked at Migs with terror.

“Where the fuck is it?”

“Wh-Wh-Wh-?”

“The fucking map! Lost Mandalorian treasure? I need it, and if you don’t, Burg here will make sure you meet those fucking dead ass Mandalorians that hid it in the first place.”

Something must’ve gotten the man brave, because he said, “I thought Mandalorians were extinct, like you pirates are going to be.”

And as if signing his death wish, he spat on the floorboards near his feet.

Well, Migs wanted a nice clean run, but he had a reputation to uphold.

He threw the man back down to the floor and before he could get his arms out from under him, Migs pulled out his flintlock pistol and aimed it at him.

He was a second away from painting the floor with this asshole, when Xi’an ran out from under the deck, her brother trailing behind.

“Captain! It’s Mando!”

That made Migs whip his head up. “Mando? Here?”

She nodded. “We saw him climbing down. Port side, now!”

The four of them raced to the railing, watching as the small craft sped away, faster than any ship could hope to move. She flew familiar colors, the flag of someone who had sold Qin out in the first place.

Migs thought today couldn’t get any worse.

Then the flare went out, bright and brilliant even in the daytime sky. An Imperial flare, that would’ve had to have come from the captain’s quarters, that they wouldn’t have been able to spot in the chaos of the room, that was absolutely going to call every Imperial ship in a hundred miles radius.

Fuck.

Fucker didn’t even have the decency to flip them off as he sailed away.

-=-

Din keeps his eyes low to the ground, brim of his hat pulled low over his head, scarf pulled round his face as he weaves in the crowd. It’s Nevarro, so he knows he blends in with the rest of the criminals that inhabit the port town, but he finds himself more cautious these days.

Especially with the small cargo at his side.

It’s only when he takes a corner into a dark alley, down a set of stairs just off the tavern, into the gloom, does he look at the bag at his side.

As they passed a torch on the wall, the Child looked up at him and beamed, his pointy teeth just coming in, ears unfurling as he lifted the flap.

“You doing ok?”

The child babbled in reply.

“Good, we’ll be there soon.”

For what was basically an underground network for a bunch of criminals, it was surprisingly clean. There were puddles of brackish water that Din stepped around to avoid, along with passing others, but it wasn’t as piss-soaked as Nevarro was up top.

Hiding a whole community under a criminal network didn’t seem like the smartest idea at first, but the thing about criminals is they can either be paid off or disappeared with little problem. As he stepped around a pair of running children, he hoped there would be one day Mandalorians wouldn’t have to hide. He had no idea how that would happen, but no one had ever died on hope.

They finally arrived at their destination, a door on the far side of the hallway. He knocked on the door and opened it when he heard the familiar voice say, “Enter.”

She was already sitting at a table, a bottle of rum in front of her, a candle burning, doing its best to light up the space. Her hat was beside her, feathers drooping so they touched the brim. He made a mental note to pick up more on his next supply run.

He took off his hat as he shut the door behind him, keeping his bandana firmly in place.

“How was your trip?” the Quartermaster asked coolly, picking up the bottle to pour him a drink. It had been years since she had manned a ship, but the title still carries in their community.

He pulled out both the kid and treasure from the bag, setting the kid down on the ground to run around the space before sitting across from her.

“Successful.”

He spread out the map in front of the Quartermaster. He heard those fools talking about Mandalorian gold, and it wasn’t entirely true. It was a map to a compass that would reveal what the holder most desired, which for some might be Mandalorian pirate gold or power or love.

Or the location of the aquatic sorcerers the child needed.

The child wasn’t fully human. He needed to spend a lot of time in water in order to spend time on land, which meant a lot of time spent swimming alongside the Razor Crest. He could also shoot water up out of the ocean, a gift Din was well acquainted with, it being one of the child’s favorite games to play.

Since he had failed to fully deliver the child to the Empire, he had had privateers and other pirates on their tail for months. This map was their last hope to make sure the child got back with his people and then…

And then Din would go back to what he did best; providing for a people now scattered by his actions.

His thoughts were interrupted by the sounds of the Quartermaster’s chair scraping back. She stood up, only to bow over again, her back parallel to the table. She moved her scarf to the side so her lips could ghost over the map as she spoke words of power into the paper.

She stood back up fully as the ink on the map shifted and moved. Waves rolled in place, sea serpents dipped in and out of the surface, all the while the path moved like an eel, slippery and changing, until everything at last was at rest and the ink seeped back into the page.

All three bowed their heads over the map. The starting point of the path was now the tiny cluster of islands of Nevarro and the end point was…

“Tatooine?” he asked out loud. “They’re basically land locked. What would a Mandalorian be doing there?”

Tatooine was a coastal stretch of land, surrounded by jagged rocks and ship-wrecks on one side and impassable mountains on the other, with desert in the valley.

She raised her head, scarf now back in place. “I suspect you’ll find out when you go there.”

He nodded and the child cooed. Din looked over at the child grabbing at the map, hands scratching at the lines like he could pick them back up.

“Come on, little one. We have a long journey ahead of us.”

-=-

Din sailed into Mos Pelgo, following the instructions Peli had given him.

“You have to arrive at low tide, that’s the only way you’ll see all the shit you have to get through. If you haven’t decided to turn tail and leave, you have to keep to the south. If you go north, you’re dead. Last I heard, there’s a pile of sticks they call a dock if you keep going south.”

The dock was a simple thing, as she’d said. Rotten wood, with just one post tall enough to hold the rope to the ship. Din was half tempted to jump straight into the water and swim to shore rather than test the strength of the wood, but resisted the urge with the Child in his bag.

He could see the town in the distance and set off on the beach, letting the Child out to stomp around on the beach.

The town was small, a couple of shacks on stilts for the stormy season. Few people were out, and those that were openly stared at the two of them. Din paid them no mind, one goal in his head.

He walked into the cantina, knowing if there ever was a way to learn about a town, it was going to their cantina first.

And not half a minute of talking with the Weequay bartender, the “Captain” walked in. The man wasn’t a Mandalorian, his face was bare, showing off white hair, sun-freckled pale skin, and a well-trimmed beard. His coat was sturdy, but patched to high heaven, with a bright red scarf around his neck. He wore the compass on his belt like he was flaunting it. It made Din’s blood boil. If Din were a younger man, he would’ve shot him right there for it.

But he tried talking. The compass should be in the hands of a Mandalorian. The Captain swore up and down he had gotten it fairly and therefore it should be his.

“I’ve given you an easy out already. Take it off,” Din said, “Or I will.”

“We gonna do this in front of the kid?”

“He’s seen worse.”

The Captain stood, fingers already itching for the flintlock on his hip, no doubt preloaded like Din’s were. They were interrupted by cries from outside. The Captain holds up a hand before smoothly exiting the cantina. Din follows, but stops in the doorframe to take it all in.

There were several broken fishing boats being led through the rocky shores, dragged onto the sands, people shouting, people carrying others. The Captain was in the middle of it all, shouting orders, trying to bring organization to the chaos.

In the distance, was the unmistakable view of a large tentacle slipping beneath the waves.

Din didn’t want to get in the way of this organized chaos, but then a twi’lek with scarred lekku was shoving bandages into his arms and gesturing over to a house across the way. Din wasn’t going to say no to that.

The house was quieter than outside, only pained whimpers and soft, hushed voices. A collection of wooden splinters already piled beside the bed as the doctor continued to take tweezers to one of the people who came in. Din placed the bandages by their side before stepping back, nearly colliding with the Captain.

He looked at the scene with a pensive expression. Immediately, Din could see that his care for his people went further than words. There was corded energy in those shoulders, anger that wanted to be released at the creature that did this to his people.

The Captain ushered him out of the room.

As they walked back to the cantina, the Captain said, “How about this; you help me with the kraken, I give you back your compass.”

“Deal.”                                                                                                          

-=-

The Captain led him past the edge of town to the cliff’s edge. On the journey he told his name was Cobb Vanth; Din held off on his own introduction.

“None of us are much for traveling,” Cobb said, “but the kraken planted itself right where we normally fish. Even when I send people to fish in a different spot, the damn thing follows after. We’ll be starved out sooner rather than later.”

They crested over the hill and the expanse of ocean fell before them. The kraken was visible from the cliffs, a dark mark under the waters, swimming languidly around the coast.

Din did a mental inventory of what he had on the Razor Crest; a handful of spears, a harpoon, some rope. Cobb had shown him the town’s stores before they left. It wasn’t going to be enough.

He stepped back from the ledge, back where Cobb is. “Is there a Tusken encampment nearby?”

Cobb raised an eyebrow. “The Tuskens? But they’re-”

“They know the coast and water better than anyone. We can’t kill it with just the two of us.”

“If they know the area then won’t they want to… I don’t know, not kill it?”

“Then, we’ll just have to ask.”

“Ask? You don’t ask a Tusken anything.”

He could, in fact, ask a Tusken for things. Din was thankful for the cloth in front of his face, masking most of his pride as he watched Cobb’s jaw drop as he asked the Tuskens for their help. It turned out, they did want help in defeating the kraken. Its sudden appearance had also affected their fishing.

They had to travel further to where the kraken had made his home. Din stayed in the back with Cobb, where he seemed more comfortable.

Cobb also apparently liked to talk when he’s nervous.

“So, you spend your days on the ocean? All the time?”

“Mhm. Do you spend all your days on land?”

“Mostly. I used to be on a ship, but not like you. I was a galley slave on an Imperial ship, but before then I had dreams of being as free as you, traveling the waters on a boat with a crew of my own.” His face fell. “Haven’t thought about that dream… for a while.”

To have something that should have meant freedom be taken away from you, Din couldn’t imagine.

“But you escaped?”

“Kriff, yes. Raised a mutiny, sunk those fuckers to the bottom of the sea. I found the compass in the captain’s drawers and it pointed us here. Few more people joined, some left, but it’s as home as we can get.”

Din could only nod. He found himself surprised with the thought that he was glad that Cobb got the compass. He had no idea what the Empire was doing with a Mandalorian artifact, but it was definitely put to better use finding people a home.

They made camp up in the dunes. Din had to waste a bullet, firing into the air to disrupt the startings of a fight between Cobb and the Tuskens. Planning was slightly easier after that.

He took off his coat, bundling it up into a nest for the child to sit in. He rolled up his sleeves to free up his arms as he continued translating. He noticed Cobb looking at the tattoos that traveled up his arms. He doesn’t comment on it.

-=-

Small boats littered the coastline the next day. The plan was for people from both the Tusken band and Mos Pelgo would distract the kraken long enough for a boat of explosives to be set up and ignited close enough to kill it but not the people.

It doesn’t go great.

There were enough boats in the water to pick up people who capsized in the wake of the monster’s waves, the thing lashing out as folks took pot shots with pistols and arrows. They managed to set the boat laden with explosives off in its direction, but when the time came to ignite, the explosion happened, but it just managed to scratch the beast.

Din reached for the harpoons he brought as backup. He and Cobb try firing at the kraken, but they skim off its skin.

The Tuskens were still firing their weapons at the creature. Mos Pelgans took turns firing guns and reloading in turn. All it did was keep the creature at bay, which wouldn’t last long at all. He needed to think of something to kill the creature or everyone here would die.

He furtively scanned around the deck for something, anything. His gaze landed on the extra explosives they had kept on hand. The monster’s skin was too thick for the explosions to take but elsewhere…

Din doesn’t think, he just moves. He grabbed as many sticks of dynamite as he could, stuffing them in the pockets of his coat. There was a coil of rope tied off to the railing, which he took and wrapped around his waist. Even after years of living on ships, his hands shook as he tried to tie it. Suddenly, Cobb was in front of him, taking the rope from his hands and tying it tight around his midsection.

He pulled it hard, once, twice, and it wasn’t going anywhere.

“What are you gonna do?” Cobb asked.

“I’m not sure,” Din said, pulling the rope tighter around his waist.

“Then what should I do?”

Din looked at him, really looked at this man who was willing to do so much for his community in light of so much hardship in his own life. He looked back at the dark shape in the water racing for their boats

He took off his hat and tossed it at Cobb. “Take care of the Child.”

And before Cobb could do anything beyond catch the hat, Din leaped off the side of the ship. He couldn’t tell if Cobb shouted anything after him as the kraken burst from the water. He forced himself to keep his eyes open as he fell straight into the kraken’s maw.

-=-

It was nothing but darkness inside the beast. Even with the scarf over his nose, the scent of salt water and death was everywhere. He dug himself in the mouth of the beast, boots scraping against bony protuberances in the things throat. He emptied his pockets as fast as he could while holding on for dear life as the monster bucked and screamed.

He hoped the kraken was out of range of the boat.

When he was left with one explosive left, he fished around in his pockets for his matchbook. He struck the match and lit the explosive before chucking it down with all the others like it.

He turned and clawed at the kraken’s beak, heart pounding in his chest. If he doesn’t get out of here before the explosion goes off-

Suddenly, a roaring filled his ears and a mass of hot air flung him out of the monster. His scarf twists around his head and he can’t see anything as he flails. He landed hard in the water and then it was silent as the dark water pulled him down.

He wasn’t sure how long he drifted. The shock of cold water and the heaviness of his coat made movement impossible.

He didn’t regret asking Cobb to take care of the child, he’d be in good hands.

Something wrapped around his waist and pulled. Din tried to resist, not sure if he was being dragged toward air or to his death, but his arms were useless, heavy and leaden. He had no strength and so he let it happen.

And then they broke through the surface of the water, a cool wind icing his skin instantly. He took a shuddering breath and nearly choked on water and his sopping wet scarf. Hands came up and pulled the scarf off his face. He coughed, chest shuddering with each intake of breath. He realized he’s being held, arms around his waist, and it isn’t until he can take a full breath did he finally bother to wipe salt water from his eyes and look at who was holding him.

It was Cobb. His hat and coat were off, red shirt darkened to maroon with all the water. He was searching his face for… something.

Din took a breath, resisting the urge to cough again. “I thought I said- you need to take care of the kid!”

“I am!” Cobb said, holding his head up to avoid a passing wave. “By making sure his daddy lives!”

Cobb maneuvers his arms so he’s gripping a floating piece of rowboat. It’s thankfully big enough that when Din leans his whole weight on it, he doesn’t sink back into the ocean.

“Everyone okay?”

Cobb gave him a look that Din thinks means he’s stupid. “Yes, thanks to you, partner.”

They only have to tread water for a couple of minutes before a rowboat headed by the twi’lek Issa-Or arrives. Cobb makes sure Din is pulled aboard before climbing in himself.

-=-

They stayed the night. Din isn’t in any position to argue with Cobb’s hospitality. He didn’t think he’d be able to turn the wheel on the Razor Crest let alone sail it out of harbor.

Cobb opened his house to them. It was a small abode, raised off the ground like the others. Its small size made it even more obvious the telescope and sextant were on display on the only table in the main room.

Din wanted to pass out then and there, but Cobb firmly set him in one of the wooden chairs before disappearing behind the one door in the house. He returned with a roll of bandages and water. He thought it was to drink, until Cobb started peeling back the wet layers of Din’s clothes to reveal burns and scratches he hadn’t even felt. Cobb dips a rag into the freshwater, rinsing out the salt and detritus from the wounds.

He worked in silence, both too exhausted from the day to say much. They could hear the sounds of the party outside, Tusken and Mos Pelgan alike celebrating the death of the beast.

A drunken group walked past and the two of them can hear the butchered shanty they sing. They glanced to the window then to each other, sharing hidden smiles.

All patched up, Cobb gave him the bed and set something up for the child. Din knew he should be aware of his host, should know where his host himself is sleeping the night, but he couldn’t bring himself to care with exhaustion tugging him into the bed.

Voices from the other room kept him up,  cracking one eye open to focus on the now familiar drawl.

“You know, in the past few days, whenever I looked at the compass for a sign of how to kill the kraken, it always pointed out to sea. I didn’t know what that meant, if I had to go sailing for a kraken expert or find a sunken treasure that would kill the kraken. I don’t know, I was getting desperate. But now… I’m thinking it might’ve been pointing to your dad.”

He heard the child’s burbles of delight and finally, finally, he slid into unconsciousness.

-=-

Din woke up to the sun shining in his eyes, light reflecting off the compass placed on the pillow that wasn’t there last night. Any lingering drowsiness left him when he realized what it is.

The Mandalorian compass.

He grabbed it and opened it up, thinking about Grogu and the teacher he needed. The arrow spun around, until stopping, hovering at a point out back toward the ocean.

A heading. He had a heading.

He fell back into the bed, just staring at the compass. It was embedded in a box made of dark wood, carvings all around the edges, Mando’a script, if he had to guess. It’s incomprehensible, chipped to the point of  being illegible.  

Something in the bed crinkled as he shifted. He turned and searched for the source and founda scrap of paper. It took a moment for him to parse, but it was just Cobb letting him know he had business to attend to and he would be back when Din left.

Right... they had to leave this town to continue their quest.

He reminded himself of that as he went out to find the child. The house sounded suspiciously quiet for all the mischief the child got into.

-=-

They got their affairs in order quicker than expected. Some people had spent the night alongside the Tuskens preparing the kraken meat to distribute to the rest of the town – and Din, apparently.

It seemed like the whole town had come out to see them off. They apparently had held off giving their thanks until they knew he was conscious. Din looked over the grateful townspeople’s heads to see Issa talking intently with Cobb. When Cobb glanced over his way, he ducked his head back down.

Normally he would sneak out of this kind of attention, but the kid was eating it up, beaming like he was the one who took down the beast, so Din went down the line, nodding respectfully at every given comment.

By the time he got to the end of the line, he was already ready to take a nap, but he raised a hand to bid them all good-bye and turned to walk out of town.

“Mando!”

Din turned around to see Cobb running after him, heel kicking up sand.

He stops in front of him. “Do you- do you need help on your quest?”

“Are you offering? Thought you had a town to look after.”

He scratched the back of his neck. “Well, the kraken was our biggest threat, and with the peace brokered with the Tuskens, there’s not much for me here.”

Din tried to tamp down his excitement, not believing what he was hearing. “You still have your sea legs?”

“Long as you don’t lock me up below deck, I should get them just fine.”

“I’d never,” he said quickly. 

Cobb smiled. “Well then, permission to come aboard?”

Din hoped Cobb could tell he was smiling behind the bandana. “Granted.”

-=-

As they sailed out of port, Din kept glancing at Cobb, who was fidgeting up a storm. He kept tapping his fingers against the railing, glancing out at the disappearing coastline.

Finally, after even the Child was tapping on his pant leg to point out Cobb’s unease for him, he hatched a plan. He affixed the wheel so it wouldn’t turn on its own. Then he went about setting the sails and ropes for the same task, keeping them on course while Din took care of Cobb.

“We can still head back if you want to,” he said as he approached the other man.

Cobb turned over his shoulder. “No, I’m not having second thoughts. I’ve… My friends know I’m not exactly made for land.”

“Oh?”

Cobb flipped his scarf up to wipe at his head. “Before we made landfall at Mos Pelgo, we took out a few Imperial ports. Small things that we only noticed because of the ships with galley slaves, but… I ain’t felt that alive in a while.”

Din fished the compass out from his pocket, flicking it open. The arrow spun lazily, pointing back to Cobb for a second before spinning around in the direction they were sailing, the same direction it had pointed when he thought about what Grogu needed.

He snapped it shut, coming up to stand beside Cobb.

“I’m sure we’ll run into something along the way. Here, I’ve got something to show you.”

Cobb raised an eyebrow. “Alright, I’ll bite. What is it?”

Din bit his lip, glad for the bandana. “Do you trust me?”

Cobb chuckled. “I would have to be an idiot to sail out to who knows where with a man I didn’t trust.”

Din nodded. “Then let it be a surprise.”

Cobb acquiesced, letting himself be led to the middle of the deck. When they were under the main mast, Din grabbed the main line in one hand, pulling Cobb close with the other. He ignored how his cheeks flushed with the sudden closeness.

“Hold on tight,” he said.

“Wha-?” That’s all Cobb got out before Din flicked the switch with his foot and the two of them went rocketing up toward the crow’s nest. Cobb’s arms circled around him like a vice, his shouts lost in the wind.

Din made sure Cobb got in the basket before he did, especially when he realized his eyes were shut.

“Cobb, open your eyes.”

Cobb cracked one eye open and then both flew open as he realized what he was seeing. Glittering blue ocean, as far as the eye could see. There were two dots in the far distance, ships of some sort.

There was no better way to experience the vastness of it all, than looking at it from above.

He glanced at Cobb and saw his eyes tearing up a bit.

He doesn’t say anything for a long moment, letting Cobb take it all in. This was what being on the ocean was supposed to mean, freedom and possibility, beauty and wonder. Din didn’t expect to do much in laying a balm over Cobb’s past, but he hoped he could communicate with this view that he wanted to help when he could.

Cobb turned to face him and Din knew he understood.

“Thank you, Mando.”

“Din, my name is Din Djarin.”

“Then thank you, Din.” And to his surprise, he leaned over and kissed him just above where the scarf covered his face.

Neither of them acknowledged it, except for an exchange of eye contact. Neither could contain the mirth in the crinkles of their eyes.

“We should start plotting a course, shouldn’t we, Captain?” Cobb asked.

“Yes, Captain.”

[luninosity]

And - final @evanstanweek fic!

Prompt 7, “holidays,” this time...which, um...became International Talk Like A Pirate Day. And implied imminent sex, and piratical roleplay, and terrible, terrible jokes. And maybe something like a marriage proposal. 1,490 words, no warnings.

Read at AO3 here! Or here on tumblr below.

#

“Hey, Seb,” Chris says.

 Sebastian, lazily settled against Chris’s chest and halfway through reading a script for a potential upcoming Shakespeare adaptation, looks up and says, “For which of my bad parts didst thou first fall in love with me?”

 Chris laughs, and retorts with, “I do love nothing in the world so well as you,” because Chris knows Much Ado About Nothing decently well, too. “Know what day it is?”

 “Saturday?”

 “Yeah, but also International Talk Like A Pirate Day. Scott just sent me like ten terrible pirate jokes. What does a pirate use his cellphone for?”

 “Oh my god,” Sebastian says.

 “Booty calls.”

 “No.”

 “Come on, that was awesome. All of these…arrrr.”

 “I’ll divorce you,” Sebastian threatens, not seriously because he’s extremely comfortable right here in morning sunshine on the pillowy sofa with Chris at his back and Dodger draped over their feet.

 “You like terrible puns,” Chris says, “I know you do,” and then, “wait, we’re not even married!”

 “Exactly,” Sebastian retorts, with emphasis, and goes back to squabbling Shakespearean lovers.

 “You’re thinking about us being married.” Chris points a finger at him. “You love me. And the terrible puns.”

 “If you say anything about a Jolly Roger,” Sebastian says, “we’re not having sex for like a week.”

 “Can I ask if you’re prepared to be boarded?”

 Sebastian sighs, sits up, and kisses the love of his life, mostly because that’s always a good distraction. It works like a charm; Chris dives into kissing him and being kissed with every drop of enthusiasm that makes up that huge rainbow-hued exuberant heart.

 Kind of unfortunately, Sebastian’s head also briefly pictures Chris in a pirate’s hat. With a parrot.

 He resolutely ignores that image, and climbs into Chris’s lap, instead.

  Around lunchtime, Chris asks what he feels like as far as food. Sebastian opens his mouth, and then Chris says, “If we were pirates we could get barr-beque,” and Sebastian throws a couch-pillow at him.

 Chris apologizes for that one, though he’s laughing. Sebastian sighs.

 They get pizza, in the end.

  “Hey, Seb,” Chris says later, as they’re turning toward home, out with Dodger in the afternoon breeze, wandering around under trees like ruffled green dancers beneath a big blue sky.

 “Don’t you dare,” Sebastian says, hand held securely in Chris’s.

 “Why couldn’t the pirates play cards?”

 “Because the captain was standing on the deck,” Sebastian says.

 Chris’s whole face lights up. “You know that one?”

 Sebastian narrows eyes at him. “It was the logical answer!”

 “Why’re you anti-pirate?”

 “I’m actually not,” Sebastian says. “I’m kind of pro-pirate. Plundering, specifically. Getting, um, pillaged behind that tree.”

 “I love your ideas,” Chris agrees, and pushes him up against a friendly tree trunk and kisses him and gets hands all over him, pinning his wrists to tree-bark, sneaking under his shirt, pushing between Sebastian’s thighs, with Chris’s body large and hot and hard and adoring and pressed up against him. They make out in the woods until they’re both breathless and giddy and Sebastian’s about one caress away from coming in his pants, laughing, clinging to Chris, a leaf in his hair and mud on his boots, loving everything about his life.

  Chris kind of gives up on the talk-like-a-pirate day jokes, after that. Possibly this is because Sebastian’s distractions via sex have worked, or possibly not; either way, Chris seems apologetic about it, and even makes dinner, one of his mom’s cozy classic pasta recipes. He also opens a new bottle of decently expensive red wine Sebastian hadn’t known they had, and grabs the space-themed wineglass, the one etched with tiny stars.

 “I don’t mind your terrible pirate puns,” Sebastian says. Chris prefers beer, he knows.

 “Yeah, I know. I don’t know.” Chris shrugs. “Just felt like being nice to you.”

 “Why pirate day or whatever it is, again?”

 Chris shrugs again. “Just kinda fun? Random?”

 Sebastian considers Chris’s face, and the wineglass, and his own love. And then looks down at his toes, and tells Chris, “I’m wearing the wrong socks, then.”

 “Huh?”

 “Y’know, for the whole pirate thing. They should be, what…arrr-gyle?”

 “Oh my god,” Chris says, “I love you, I fucking love you, Seb.”

 “I might need more wine,” Sebastian says. “Especially if it’s from the…sand bar.” It’s the actual worst joke he’s ever made.

 Chris starts laughing so hard he has to grab the counter, and also Sebastian’s shoulder.

 Sebastian grins. Even his socks feel smug.

  They’re too full after pasta to do much about pillaging, so they flop down on the sofa and watch a documentary about Mars for a while. Chris gets a fire going, and the wind purrs outside, and Dodger’s snoring in his bed, and it’s so domestic and so perfect that Sebastian’s eyes get a little prickly and his heart feels a little shaky. Sometimes he still can’t believe it: being here, being part of Chris’s life. Himself, Sebastian Stan. Loved so deeply and so well.

 Because he loves Chris so damn much, he leans over to bite Chris’s shoulder. Chris grins and pets his hair, and even tugs slightly, because they both know how that dominance goes right to Sebastian’s head and stomach and happy cock; it does now, too, as usual.

 “You want me to do something about that,” Chris beckons, “maybe take care of you a little, if you’re needing some attention, Seb?” and his voice turns all low and rumbly and commanding, and fuck yeah, but:

 “One sec,” Sebastian announces, and hops up, and runs to their bedroom. He’s got a plan.

 He doesn’t have a whole lot that he can work with as far as costumes, pirates not having been a feature of most of his random daydreams, but he’s come up with a few ideas. A loose open white shirt, skinny black pants, a scarf tied around his waist. Some eyeliner. Some of his older jewelry, chunky extravagant rings and necklaces. He grins at himself in the mirror: some sort of haphazard pirate-steampunk-twink grins right back.

 He runs back out to the living room, where Chris is sitting up and being kind of puzzled, though that expression shifts the second Sebastian pops back in. Chris groans, “You’re just doing this to fuck with me, now, aren’t you…”

 “I was kind of hoping you’d be doing the fucking,” Sebastian says helpfully. “You know. On board with that. You can, um, come bury your…treasure…right here.”

 “Jesus,” Chris mutters, but he’s shaking his head, smiling, trying not to laugh. “Okay, okay, point made. Got it. Aye, captain. Or something.”

 “You’re right,” Sebastian says. “This is fun. Come claim my booty. Your booty. However that works. I’m all yours anyway.” He is. Body, heart, soul: everything he’s got, everything he is. He’s Chris’s.

 “I love you.” Chris gets up and comes over, hands settling on Sebastian’s shoulders, drawing him in close. “Where’d you find the scarf?”

 “It’s an old one. I thought maybe you could tie me up with it. Bend me over the bed—the railing, the captain’s bunk, whatever—and have your way with me.”

 “Are you the pirate, or am I?”

 “Maybe I’m your captive,” Sebastian considers. “You know, the dashing daring pirate adventurer that you keep chasing, good upright naval officer that you are, and you’ve finally caught me.”

 “And I’m about to do everything I can think of to you,” Chris jumps in. “Make you beg for mercy. Make you bend over for me, and spread those pretty legs. Make you take my cock, and like it.” His hand lifts Sebastian’s chin, fingers biting down: not too hard, and he’s grinning, eyes made of wicked loving conspiratorial blue. “That what you had in mind?”

 “Totally,” Sebastian says. “I mean, aye. Yarr. Yo, ho, ho, and rum, and all that. I think I like your holiday. Um. Chris?”

 “Yeah?” Chris’s thumb strokes his cheek, too gently for an angry naval officer. “Somethin’ you need, before I haul you off to my cabin?”

 “What I said earlier,” Sebastian says, “about being married to you…about us getting married…I mean, this isn’t me asking, it’ll be way more perfect whenever that happens, don’t worry, but…I just wanted to say…yeah. I do think about that. I kind of think about that a lot. I want all the weird random holidays with you. Forever.”

 Chris’s smile’s so wide and bright that it fills up the world, every fantasy and every holiday all rolled into one expression. His hand’s still cupping Sebastian’s face; the other comes to rest on Sebastian’s hip, over the scarf, with something like reverence. He says, “Guess what, Seb.”

 “Something about pirates and being a good…mate?”

 “Well, yeah, obviously that. My mate.” Chris leans in to kiss him; Sebastian’s entire body thrills to the claiming. “But also…we’ve been pretty much thinking the same things, about that. If you were wondering. I want all the weird random holidays and terrible puns and fucking perfect pirate role-play, forever, with you.”

[snowshower]

Last Words

SpUk fic, Major character death

Arthur stared ahead of him, at the sky. The steady pitter-patter of the rain against the wet floorboards was calming for himself, for some reason, despite the approach of his death. Had he done everything he'd wanted in his life? Arthur took a few seconds to think to himself. Yes, he'd say he was satisfied with his life. He had become a well-known person (although not in a good way), got lots of money, and escaped death many times before. Not to mention, exciting battles with his mates and all, as well as defeating his own rival (a prissy Frenchman).

Closing his eyes, Arthur ignored the man who lay next to him. It was ironic that he'd gotten stuck with the one man he'd claimed to hate throughout his entire 'career' as a pirate. Antonio and he would both share a watery grave. A dry chuckle sounded from him getting a curious look from Antonio. "We're going to die, and you laugh?" Antonio cocked up an eyebrow, not seeing what was amusing. "We are both going to perish, and you choose to laugh as if it's humor??" he continued with a hiss, only growing more irritated as Arthur's laugh grew.

"Who'd have thought we'd die together?"

Antonio blinked, not expecting that question. "What do you mean?"

"I'd always imagine you dying at my hands," the blond briefly paused and glanced back at Antonio, who held a scowl, "or vice versa, I suppose."

Antonio snorted, slumping forward to sit up. "Si, as if you'd ever defeat me," he muttered. The two would never admit to each other at being good during their swordplays, though they both acknowledge how well they fought many times over.

A small silence fell over the two men. The water continues to climb into the ship, pulling it into the sea. Arthur sat up now, next to Antonio's shivering body. The two were in their own deep thoughts, all uninterrupted with a silent deck. The rain didn't cease, only growing harsher and pelting at them. The silence wasn't as bad as one might expect. It gave the men their time to reflect on their life. Arthur looked at him, wondering what Tonio thought about.

Antonio broke the silence this time, "you know... I suppose I am satisfied with everything I've done," he muttered softly, pulling back his ribbon and undoing his hair from a ponytail.

"Pilage and plunder?"

That earned a huff from Antonio. "Tonto*, no, you know I also had my crew care for me too, as well as my nephew back at home." [[Fool*]]

Arthur stares at him for a while, thinking of his own nephew back in England. "I guess I can agree on that. My boy back at home will survive by himself though, he's old enough too," he sighs. Antonio cocks his head to the side.

"You have a son??" He received a glare from Arthur, who mouthed no. Antonio hummed at the denial, mind wandering off again. "I guess we're not that different," he grunts, getting up. "Where are you going?" the Brit's gaze followed him up to the railing. Arthur was surprised that Antonio hadn't slipped due to the wet floorboarding. The water had already reached their feet by now. It didn't bother Arthur anymore.

He took a stand next to the Spaniard, looking at the man. He looked like a different man when not carrying the face of anger and revenge. Arthur looked away, into the sea, watching the water eagerly clamber into any space of the ship. It'd get them soon too.

"We had a good run, no?"

Arthur looked next to him, finding Antonio staring ahead of them, into the horizon. "I suppose so," he replied, shrugging off his coat, letting it fall on the ground. Antonio followed suit. There was a light clink as metal hit metal.

"You think maybe, in another life, we could be friends?" Tonio asked, leaning on the railing to keep balance on the ship.

Arthur's gaze flickered to Antonio before turning his attention back to the sea. "Yeah, maybe," he replied, joining Antonio's side. "Ghost buddies in Davy Jones's locker."

The two shared a peal of laughter together, for once. "You believe in your stories, I'll believe in mine."

Arthur huffed through his nose, looking up at the raining sky now, closing his eyes yet again. "I wouldn't be friends with you, to hell and back," he chuckled. Neither could say Arthur meant his words.

"Bien, another fight, in another life, then?" The water was at their waist now, but the two weren't too frantic. This was better to go than all those nightmares they'd imagine when held hostage, or in cells, or even during bad storms.

"Yes, that sounds good."

Even though the two will always consider each other enemies, dying next to each other on the same boat-- quite literally- isn't so bad.

[wiypt-writes]

Stark Spangled Banner

Ch36: I Bid You Farewell And Good Luck, Morons. Part 1- It’s Like A Pirate Had A Baby With An Angel.

Intro: Thor wakes up on a strange ship, surrounded by even stranger people, a talking tree and a rabbit. Meanwhile, back on Earth, the fight to save Vision is won and the group make their way back to the compound to understand what exactly it is that they’re facing. 

Warnings: Bad Language words.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark

A/N: So I HAD to write Thor and Tony’s POV over the IW chapters too, because, frankly, they had some of THE best scenes in Infinity War, and I love that freaking Norse God Himbo and chaotic Stark chemistry so bad! I know this is Katie and Steve’s fic, but Steve had so little screen time in this film all things considered…we were so robbed!!! Once again, I can’t thank @angrybirdcr​ enough for her edits, they’re awesome!

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Katie Stark and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Chapter 35

Stark Spangled Banner Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Thor wasn’t dead. But he felt like it. Every inch of his body ached and when he was jerked back to consciousness for a moment, just one split moment, he thought he saw Little Stark. Only it wasn’t her. The woman had dark hair, yes, but as he focussed he realised she looked nothing like the woman he loved dearly as a sister. This wench had huge eyes and antenna dangling from her forehead. And, whilst he knew it had been a while since he had seen his friend, she wouldn’t have changed that much.

Finding his feet he looked around, chest heaving, at the band of people stood in front of him; a woman with green skin and red hair, a man with grey/blue skin covered in red designs, a tree creature- a Flora Colossus unless he was mistaken- which was off to the side draped over a chair, some kind of furry, animal thing- a rabbit maybe- and finally a man who appeared to be a normal, human being. That was until he opened his mouth and Thor realised he was probably the most stupid human being he had ever encountered.

His rescuers had offered him soup, and then when he had explained about Thanos, the green skinned lady called Gamora had told Thor what the Titan wanted the stones for.  Which she knew, because she his daughter.

Thanos had a daughter. Interesting.

“Families can be tough,” Thor spoke wisely, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Before my father died, he told me that I had a half-sister that he imprisoned in Hell. Then she returned home, stabbed me in the eye so, I had to kill her.” He shrugged. “That’s life though isn’t it I guess? Round and round, but I feel your pain.”

The human, Peter Quill, pushed his way between Gamora and Thor, and looked at her “I feel your pain, as well, because, I mean it’s not a competition, but I’ve been through a lot. My father killed my mother, and then I had to kill my father. And that was hard. Probably even harder than having to kill a sister. Plus, I, came out with both of my eyes.”

Thor wasn’t paying attention. The man was clearly a moron, and he’d just noticed he had bent the spoon in the bowl of soup and was having a flashback to the time he had tried to bend the Captain’s shield. Little Stark had laughed so much at how annoyed he had gotten when he failed that she had cried. And then, to make it worse, a few days later the Captain had managed to move Mjolnir. Just a fraction, but it moved. No one had seen it, bar Little Stark of course, but there was something there, Thor was sure. Steve Rogers was a man worthy of a lot of things, but his hammer was complicated. You have to prove your worth. That had been explained to him by his Father the day he had given it to him. Of course, he hadn’t realised then that Eitri had actually made it for Hela first.

Eitri… Oh, yes!

“I need a hammer, not a spoon.” Thor mumbled, as the idea took hold and he looked at the pod at the back of the ship. “How do I open this thing?” He began pressing random buttons on the screen next to the door. “Is there some sort of a four-digit code? Maybe a birth date or something?”

"What are you doing?” the rabbit animal, Rocket asked.

“Taking your pod.” Thor replied nonchalantly.

And then there was an argument in which the moron Quill tried to imitate Thor’s deeper voice telling him he could not take the pod, but Thor was going to take the pod anyway because he was the God of Thunder after all, and then the lady Gamora cut them off quite rightly directing the focus back to Thanos by stating they needed to find out where he was going next.

But Thor had already thought of that. “Knowhere,” he answered as he brushed past Quill and over to the refrigerator he had seen Gamora get his soup from.

“He must be going somewhere.” Mantis argued innocently.

“No,” Quill shook his head and Thor noted his stupid voice was back to normal. “Knowhere? It’s a place. We’ve been there. It sucks. Excuse me, that’s our food.” He jabbed,  suddenly noticing what Thor was doing.

“Not anymore.” Thor shrugged, stuffing it into a backpack he found.

“Thor!” Gamora cut across the pair of them again. “Why would he go to Knowhere?”

“Because for years, the Reality Stone has been safely stored there with a man called the Collector.” Thor stated.

“If it’s with the Collector, then it’s not safe.” Quill snorted. “Only an idiot would give that man a stone.”

“Or a genius.” Thor shrugged.

“How do you know he’s not going for one of the other stones?” Gamora asked.

“There’s six stones out there.” Thor began to explain, “Thanos already has the Power Stone because he stole it, last week, when he decimated Xandar.”

He didn’t missed the shocked and horrified look the group shared with one another.

“He stole the Space Stone from me, when he destroyed my ship and slaughtered half my people. The Time and Mind Stones, are safe on Earth. They’re with the Avengers.”

“The Avengers?” Quill asked.

“They’re Earth’s Mightiest Heroes.”

“Like Kevin Bacon?” Mantis called out.

“Errr he may be on the team now, I don’t know.” Thor shrugged, having no idea who the man named after a breakfast meat was. “I haven’t been there in a while. And as for the Soul Stone, well no one’s ever seen that. No one even knows where it is. Therefore, Thanos can’t get it. Therefore, he’s going to Knowhere. Hence, he’ll be getting the Reality Stone. You’re welcome.”

“Then we have to go to Knowhere, now.” Gamora stated, looking around.

“Wrong. Where we have to go is Nidavellir.” Thor picked up the backpack.

“That’s a made up word.” Drax, the blue man countered.

“All words are made up.” Thor smiled, slinging the backpack onto his back.

“Nidavellir is real?” The animal called Rocket’s eyes grew wide and he jumped up onto the table and looked at Thor. “Seriously? I mean, that place is a legend. They make the most powerful, horrific weapons to ever torment the Universe. I would very much like to go there, please.”

“The rabbit is correct.” Thor grinned at Rocket’s excitement. “And clearly the smartest among you. Only Eitri the Dwarf can make me the weapon I need.” He turned to the furry animal. “I assume you’re the captain, Sir?”

Rocket grinned and nodded, “You’re very perceptive.”

“You seem like a noble leader. Will you join me on my quest to Nidavellir?”

“Let me just ask the captain. Oh, wait a second, it’s me!”  Rocket grinned. “Yeah, I’ll go.”

“Wonderful.” Thor beamed.

“Uh except that I’m the captain,” Quill chipped in

“Quiet!” Thor was now beyond bored of the moron.

“And that’s my backpack.” Quill continued pointing to the bag that Thor was stealing.

“Quill, sit down.” Rocket tapped at the pad and keying in the digits to open the pod.

“Look, this is my ship. And I’m not going to - wait, what kind of weapon are we talking about here?” Quill looked round.

“The Thanos-killing kind.” Thor smiled.

Boy, was it going to be a big, fucking weapon like no one had ever seen before…

“Don’t you think that we should all have a weapon like that?” Quill frowned.

“You lack the strength to wield them. Your bodies would crumble as you minds collapsed into the madness.” Thor shook his head.

“Is it weird that I wanna do it even more now?” Rocket asked.

“Erm, a little bit weird. Yeah.” Thor looked down at him, frowning.

“If we don’t go to Knowhere and Thanos retrieves another stone, he’ll be too powerful to stop.” Gamora stepped forward.

"He already is.” Thor shrugged.

“Look, I got it figured out.” Rocket interrupted, looking at Gamora. “We got two ships, and a large assortment of morons.  Me and Groot will go with the Pirate Angel here, and the morons will go to Knowhere to try and stop Thanos. Cool? Cool.”

“So cool.” Thor grinned before he climbed into the pod.

“For the record,” Quill said leaning down to Rocket, “I know that you’re only going with them because it’s where Thanos isn’t.”

“You know, you really shouldn’t talk that way to your captain, Quill.” Rocket smirked, walking backwards and gesturing outwards with his arms. “Come on, Groot. Put that game down. You’ll rot your brain,”

As Rocket sat down Thor nodded out of the pod to the rest of the people on the ship. “I bid you farewell and good luck, morons. Bye.”

******

It wasn’t hard for the team to track Wanda, her red power flashing bright against the dark sky over Edinburgh City Centre, and as the jet followed her movements, the four friends saw her spiralling through the sky with Vision and crashing through the train station roof, just as Sam put the jet on the ground.

Within seconds the Ex-Avengers were sprinting off the jet.  

“Katie, Nat, take the side!” Steve yelled, as he vaulted over the railings at the edge of the road running down onto the bottom half of the concrete ramp which led to the station. “Sam, up high and remember, we protect Vision at all costs!”

“Got em.” Sam spoke over the coms. “Platform seven, near the café.” 

Steve vaulted over another set of barriers, the station now deserted thanks to the evacuation taking place by the local police. As he ran onto one of the walkways over the lines, he was just in time to see two of the aliens crash through the station roof. Weighing up his options, he realised it was going to be quicker for him to hop down onto the platform he was currently overheard, and jump across the lines to help. He swung his legs over the railings and landed easily, looking up. Across from him he could see Natasha and Katie emerging to the right, as Wanda stood and moved protectively in front of Vision, building power in her hands. An express train whizzed past him and he stood still, waiting and it wasn’t long before the taller, blue looking woman spotted him, and she launched her spear over the platform. Steve easily snapped his left shoulder back whilst leaning over his body with his right, catching the staff in his hand.

“Heads up.” Sam muttered, and as Wanda and Vision turned to see Steve step out from the shadows, fury lining his face, Sam swooped in and kicked one of the aliens across the platform and through a closed café’s security gate, causing tables and chairs to go flying, before he spun and started to fire on the other alien.

Steve launched the weapon he had caught across the tracks where Natasha caught it and stabbed the second assailant in the gut as Katie moved in to head off the other who was stalking back towards them. The weapon Natasha had been using flew back into the alien’s hands and Katie ducked as she swung, jabbing her in the back of the leg with an electric powered escrima stick. The alien let out a yell, stumbled slightly and Steve cleared the platform in an easy leap, rolling and scooping up the second assailant’s staff from the floor, holding it up to block the blow that the creature aimed at Katie. He grit his teeth, planting his legs to absorb the power of the hit, as Katie rolled to the side, jumped up and the two of them began to fight the alien, joined shortly by Natasha. Steve had to admit, the woman (if you could call her that) was a force to be reckoned with, but the three of them were just about getting the upper hand when they heard Sam yell.

“DUCK!”

The three of them did so and Sam flew in hard, kicking the woman backwards where she fell and scuttled over to her fallen friend. Sam landed next to Katie, drawing both his submachine pistols on the couple.

“Get up” The alien instructed to her fallen partner, her voice was deep.

“I can't.” His gravelly, robotic voice replied.

“We don’t wanna kill you.” Natasha spoke coolly “But we will”.

“You’ll never get the chance again.” The female levelled them, with a cold glare and with that a beam shot down from the hole in the station roof and the two were transported upwards. The weapon Steve was holding also shot out of his hand. He frowned in surprise for a moment, looking at his hand then upwards as the beam of light disappeared and the ship sped off.

“Can you stand?” Sam asked Vision as Katie replaced her sticks and walked towards Wanda and the android. When Vision shook his head, Sam moved forward to help him up.

Supported by Wanda and Sam, Vision looked over at Steve, Natasha and Katie, electricity shimmering over his surface. He’d been badly damaged in the fight, and as he spoke his voice distorted.

“Thank you, Captain.”

Steve took a deep breath and nodded. His face stern, but his eyes were much softer than his expression and Katie knew why. It had been a while since anyone other than Sam, Nat or Wanda had called him Captain.

Steve looked at the android, he might have been damaged but they had the stone, and that was the main thing. Nodding, he spoke. “Let’s get you on the jet.” His voice was soft and he moved to let Sam and Wanda support Vision on their way past him, Natasha following.

Katie hung back a little, trying to stop the light-headedness she was feeling from washing over her.

“You okay?” Steve turned to her as she blinked.

“Yeah, just took a whack that’s all. “I’m fine.” She assured him as they took up the rear of the group, her fingers lacing into his.

Once Vision was safely settled in a seat at the side, Sam dropped into the pilot’s seat. Katie hit the button to close the ramp as the Jet rose into the air.

“I thought we had a deal.” Natasha spun angrily to Wanda. ”Stay close, check in. Don’t take any chances.”

“I’m sorry. We just wanted time.” The younger woman said gently.

Katie glanced at Steve, he was stood up in the middle of the jet, hands on the buckle of his utility belt, staring seemingly at nothing but clearly contemplating something.

“Where to, Cap?” Sam asked.

Steve looked up, he glanced at Sam then locked eyes with Katie as he spoke one word, one simple word that they had all been waiting to hear for almost two years.

“Home”

*****

After a few hours, with the morning sky being the only thing in sight, Sam started to lower the jet through thick white clouds and Katie couldn’t help but inhale sharply when the compound began to take shape as she watched out of the front window. It looked the same. The buildings, the grounds…she wasn’t sure why she had expected anything to change, maybe because it felt like everything had changed for them, but either way, there it was. The exact same as the last time she had seen it.

Steve noticed her demeanour change slightly as they landed. She stood up straight, her shoulders squaring as if she was about to face an onslaught. And they were, in a way. On their way Steve had called Bruce to tell him that they had Vision and were heading back, but had had no idea what they were heading back to, nor did he care. Be it Ross, police, the army, whatever, Steve was done bowing to anyone’s will, he was over playing other people’s tunes. The two years they had spent hidden had shown them all that they could operate on their own if required, and he wasn’t afraid to fight anyone who got in his way.

They stepped off the ramp and strode over the lawn, Katie taking a deep breath as she looked around. So many emotions flooded her system, she couldn’t explain or identify half of them. Memories flashed in front of her eyes, visions of long summer nights spent outside in the garden and on the BBQ patio until sunrise. Laughs during team dinners. Sam and Wanda collaborating on pranks. Training sessions with the team and Vision reading Tolkien aloud to Wanda before asking questions about humanity’s love of fiction. Walks and picnics and other things in the ground, just her and Steve. Their wedding, God their wedding! Frequent visits from Tony, bringing in new ideas and improved gadgets. Getting back safe after being out on a long mission. Feeling relaxed and at ease.

Feeling at home.

Steve’s arm curled round his wife for a moment before he pressed a kiss to the side of her head as Vision opened the door.

“Still no word from Vision?”  

“Satellites lost him somewhere over Edinburgh.”

“On a stolen Quinjet with four of the world’s most wanted criminals.” “You know they’re only criminals because you’ve chosen to call them that, right, sir? “

“My God, Rhodes, your talent for horseshit rivals my own.”

The sound of the call between Ross and Rhodey echoed down the corridor reaching the group that were making their way through to the lab.

“If it weren’t for those Accords, Vision would’ve been right here.” Rhodey shot back and Katie glanced back at Vision as the sounds the voices grew louder as they neared their destination.

“I suspect it will be a Hollo Call.” Vision said gently, answering Katie’s unasked question.  His suspicions were proven correct as they rounded the corner and the lab came into view. Rhodey was stood across from where the holographic image of Secretary Ross was facing off against him.

"You have second thoughts?” Ross was challenging Rhodey, who smiled simply as his eyes shot sideways. Steve strode forward, his presence as intimidating as ever, and the first thing Rhodey noticed was just how dark he looked. Gone was the upstanding, All American Hero, and in its place was someone much harder, far rougher round the edges. Kiddo looked different too. Her hair was shorter and she looked slimmer.

“Not anymore.” He grinned.

The holographic Ross followed Rhodey’s gaze and his eyes fell on Steve who was stood next to Katie at the front of the group, Natasha, Wanda, Sam and Vision behind them. Steve raised his chin a little defiantly and moved to take his power stance, feet apart, hands on his belt, before he greeted Ross politely.

“Mr. Secretary" 

Katie couldn’t help the smirk on her face as she watched Ross attempting to cover up the shock he had clearly felt at the group of outlaws turning up again. She locked eyes with Rhodey who gave her the smallest of winks before he glanced back at Ross who was shaking his head slightly as he approached Steve, his holographic form almost trying to square up to him.  Steve simply raised his chin further and looked down from the steps he was stood on.

"You got some nerve.” Ross sniffed, staring up at him “I’ll give you that.”

“You could use some of that right now.” Katie shot back bluntly, Ross turned his head to face her for a second. She held his gaze and arched an eyebrow until he turned back to Steve.

“The world’s on fire.” Ross said incredulously. “And you think, you can just walk back in here and all is forgiven?”

Steve levelled the secretary with a firm gaze. “I’m not looking for forgiveness.” his voice took on a threatening tone as he spoke “And I’m way past asking for permission.”

At that point the smirk on Katie’s face grew even wider as she stole a glance up at her husband, pride swelling in her chest as he continued, stoic and unyielding. 

“Earth just lost her best defender, so we’re here to fight. And if you wanna stand in our way,” he stepped down to be at level with the hologram, and stared it square in the eyes “We’ll fight you, too.”

Ross was practically foaming at the mouth as his eyes went to Rhodey and he spat out his order, “Arrest them.”

“All over it.” Rhodey promised nonchalantly before shutting off the hologram, shortly after a beeping noise sounded from the computers.

“That’s a court-martial.” He informed the group as he slapped the back of his right hand into his left palm, though his tone said told Katie that he blatantly couldn’t have cared less for Ross’ demands. There was a short pause as the group glanced down at their friend, Steve smiling softly, before Rhodey’s face split into a huge smile of his own.

“It’s great to see you, Cap.” He stepped forward.

“You too, Rhodey.” Steve answered, taking the last two steps down before he shook Rhodey’s hand. Katie threw herself at her brother’s best friend and he gave her a huge bear hug before he looked down at her.

“You do something to your hair?” He teased.  Katie smiled, stepping back from his embrace while he looked the rest of the group over.

“Well. You guys really look like crap. Must’ve been a rough couple of years.”

Steve looked round, an amused smile on his face as he glanced at his wife then to the rest of the team.

“Yeah, well, the hotels weren’t exactly five star.” Sam quipped back cheekily, the banter flowing between them like no time at all had passed.

“Uh, I think you look great.”

Steve turned at the new voice to see Bruce inching his way into the room nervously wringing his hands together.

Steve and Katie remained silent, exchanging a glance. In the rush around and the fray of the fight, we’d forgotten to explain exactly who it was that called.

“Yeah. I’m back.”

Katie glanced over at Nat, she had her gaze fixed solely on the scientist as she spoke “Hi, Bruce.”

“Nat.” Bruce answered inclining his head towards her slightly as he fidgeted.

“This is awkward.” Sam piped up. Steve and Katie looked at one another, before they both smiled and looked back up at Sam.

“Any news on Tony?” Katie asked gently, interrupting the silence that had fallen.

“Not yet no.” Rhodey said. “FRIDAY lost him when he left the atmosphere. We got NASA running scans and we’re trying to track his trail but…” He shook his head. 

“Typical Tony.” Katie rolled her eyes “Always has to go one bigger and one better doesn’t he?”

Her blasé tone wasn’t fooling anyone.

“Banner.” Steve said gently, looking across the room at the scientist. “Can you fill us in on what we’re up against here?”

“Yeah sure,” Bruce said nodding hesitantly.

Without so much as another word, the group all started to make their way out of the room. As Katie turned to follow Natasha, Steve’s hand gently fell on her shoulder. Without looking at him, she reached up and gently wrapped her fingers round his, giving them a squeeze before she left.

Steve took a deep breath as he glanced around the room once more, before he too followed on, that sick feeling in his gut was getting worse.

**** Chapter 36 Part 2

[kinglivv]

Hi! Could I request a fic based on the photo of Jodie with a sword? Like 13 against pirates maybe and protecting fem reader? It's okay if you can't

My Hero

13th Doctor x Reader

Summary: The Doctor and the reader arrive on a seemingly empty pirate ship, only to find the Captain wants to challenge the Doctor to a duel.

Warnings: Sword fighting ig

A/N: I know a few people are wanting to write fics based off of this gif, so I hope I'm not stepping on any toes. But also I'm so excited to see what everyone else is writing because that gif... fuck

God, you'd never been good with boats.

You feel your stomach churn slightly as it rocks, and you stumble over the slippy decking, catching yourself on the side. One glance down into the dark, crashing waves and you're squeezing your eyes shut as nausea courses through you, cursing yourself for looking.

The Doctor however, seems utterly at home, sliding over the deck, peering into barrells and sonicking pieces of rope.

"Why are we here again?" You shout over the wind.

"There's some weird atron signals coming from this ship." She yells back.

"Why did we have to come looking for them in the middle of the night while a massive storm is happening, though?"

"No time like the present, Y/N!"

You sigh, although it's inaudible over the pounding of the waves. You manage to wobble over to a cabin door. You had no idea what century this is - maybe finding the crew will give you a clue.

You tug the door open, practically throwing yourself inside, desperate to escape the horrendous weather. Slamming the door behind you, you stop for a minute and breathe out, grateful for a relative moment of peace.

And then there's a cough.

You look up sharply to find a man sitting at a desk. Dressed in red robes, a large feathered hat and with a very extravagant beard, he's clearly the ship's Captain, and this appears to be his office.

"Who," He says, placing down his feather quill. "Are you?"

"Uh... I'm Y/N." You reply.

"How did you get on my ship?"

You don't really have an answer to that, but you try your best.

"I was in a lifeboat. You left a rope down so I climbed aboard."

"A lifeboat?"

Ah. Must be a few centuries early for lifeboats.

"Rowing boat." You correct yourself.

He stands up, reaching his full height which appears to be at least a foot above yours. It's then that you catch sight of the extremely sharp sword strapped to his waist, and you feel your palms begin to get a little sweaty.

"Do you know what happens to people who come aboard my ship uninvited?" He asks, stepping around his desk.

"Do you offer them a cuppa and put then up for the night?" You ask hopefully.

"Whatever your strange words mean child, they are incorrect. Intruders are made to walk the plank!" With that declaration, he draws his swords and aims at you.

Trying to create as much as much space in between you and him as possible, you hastily step back. Instead of meeting wooden wall though, you bump right into something soft.

You whisk around to find the Doctor standing behind you, having probably snuck in just a second ago.

"There you are!" You hiss.

"Who are you? Another intruder on my ship?" The captain demands before the Doctor has a chance to say anything.

"Not much of a ship without a crew," She replies idily, stepping in front of you. You quickly spot the sword strapped to her waist - an unusual move, but a clever one. "Where are they, by the way? A ship like this would need at least a hundred men."

The captain huffs. "They disappeared two nights ago. And I'm beginning to think you two have something to do with it, what with your strange words and bizarre clothes."

"Well-"

"Draw your sword, madam!" He demands, pulling out his own. "I challenge you to a duel!"

She smirks, doing just as he intructs. Like the Doctor always does, she looks cooly aloof, holding out the spear, waiting for him to make the first move.

"I do warn you though, woman," The Captain chuckles at her boldness. "You are duelling with a man and a Captain. I will almost feel sorry for you when I cut off your arm."

"Oh, pack it in," She rolls her eyes. "I've done this with a spoon before. And won."

Instead of responding, he chooses to clash their swords together, commencing the fight. You watch on, very much entertained as they continue, the sound of metal scraping filling the room. You're not worried for the Doctor - she can handle herself. You're more interested in the fact that she's using an actual sword. Was she really going to chop off this man's arms?

No - as it turned out. Instead she strategically corners him against the wall, jams the sword through the material of his jacket and quite literally pins him to the wall.

He gasps, sword falling the floor with a clatter.

"My best robes!"

As he mourns his frankly quite awful coat, the Doctor rushes back over to you.

"Time to go below deck I think, darling," Hurrying you out the door before he can stop you. "I think it's clear the energy signals aren't coming from him."

Back out in the slippy deck, you grab her hand for balance as she pulls you towards the door to the cabins.

"That was quite impressive, you know." You shout out the sound of the waves rocking the boat.

"I live to amuse."

"My hero."

She grins, the rain lashing against her cheek, her hair utterly soaked. She looks perfect.

Taglist: @truthbehindthemysteries @queerconfusionthings @xenteaart @actuallyanita @ateliefloresdaprimavera @persephonehemingway @fabulous-jj-style

[iflostreturntosteverogers]

I Promise

Characters: Reader, Dean, Sam, John, Azazel, Bobby (Mentioned), Callum (OMC Mentioned), Grace (OFC Mentioned)

Warnings: Weechesters, John’s an ass, Fluff, Angst, Character Death

A/N: Sam is about 3-4 years old and Dean around 7-8 years old in this. This is the longest fic I’ve ever written with 2,454 words. 

Header by: @sorenmarie87​

Beta’d by: @cloverhighfive and @mariekoukie6661

      No one raised your blood pressure like John Winchester. He was always such an arrogant prick when he dropped his boys off at your house. You kept Dean and Sam as a favor to Bobby, so he could keep John from doing something stupid and because you loved them. They needed some normalcy and love in their chaotic lives.

You had been mentally preparing yourself to deal with him after Bobby had called to tell you the boys were coming your way and just be ready because John was already in a mood. “A mood,” You snorted. “When isn’t he in a mood?” You made one last pass through the house, double-checking you had removed anything the boys could get in. You’d have to go to the store for food, but you didn’t mind taking them with you. They were good kids. 

John’s Impala rumbled down your street, making you groan. Here we go. You give him a moment to park before you open the door in and lean on the frame. “Hi, boys!” You smile and wave at Sam and Dean, climbing out of the car. Sam grins, and all but tackles your legs. “Hi, Ms. Y/N.” Dean smiles as he walks up with his bag over his shoulder. He grabs Sam’s hand and goes inside. You watch them race up the stairs to your bedroom. Probably to jump on your bed. You think to yourself. The trunk of the impala slams, startling you. 

“Princess.” John nods at you, a smirk on his lips. 

“Winchester.” 

“What? I don’t get a smile and peppy hello like my boys do?” He tosses Sam’s bag at you, chuckling as you almost miss it. 

“I like your children, you not so much,” you quip, pulling the strap over your shoulder. 

“I’m hurt, princess,” he says, placing his hand over his heart. “And here I thought you loved me. You’re always so warm and friendly.” You roll your eyes and flip him off. 

“Not your princess, Winchester.” 

“You sure do act like one.” John crosses his arms and leans against the impala, a smug look on his face.

“Excuse me?! What is that supposed to mean?” 

“It means you sit here in your cushy little house, living off your dead husband’s money and letting Bobby do all the dirty work in finding who killed him and your kid.” You push off the doorframe and stomp down the porch stairs to be face to face with the man. Without thinking, you slap him as hard as you can, the sound echoing. 

“First off, get your fucking facts straight! I never asked Bobby to do that. Second, I work my ass off to pay for my shit. I don’t need to forge credit cards or have aliases. Third, don’t you ever mention Callum and Grace. Ever. At least I learned to cope and live a normal life instead of dragging two young boys into the hunting business on a revenge mission. Get the hell off my property.” You don’t look at him as you turn and walk back into your house. Closing the door, you sink to the floor.

      “Having fun?” You grin as Sam and Dean freeze, pillows poised to hit each other. 

“We’re playing pirates,” Dean tells you, climbing down from your bed. “These are our swords!” His eyes are bright as he explains their game. The boys giggle when you tell them you’ll be the beautiful princess they’re fighting over. 

“You need a cwown, Pwincess Y/N,” Sam tells you. 

“You’re absolutely right, Captain Smelly Feet, and I think I have just the thing!” You walk over to your dresser, opening the locked jewelry box on top and revealing a sparkling tiara. You place it on your head and turn towards the boys. “What do you think?” Dean’s mouth drops open in shock. 

“Where did you get that?” 

“I got to be a princess for a day a long time ago, and they let me keep my crown.” 

“Cool!” Dean jumps back up on the bed. “The princess is mine, Smelly Feet! You can’t have her!” Sam screwed his face up into something that was probably supposed to be mean and scary but just looked adorable to you.

“Noooo! I’ll save you from Captain Gween Toes, Pwincess!” Sam wails Dean with a pillow. Dean pretends to fall on the mattress, holding his side.

“You’ve won this time, Smelly Feet. Remember me, Princess. Bleh.” You giggle at his fake death sound and turn to the 4-year-old standing proudly above his brother.

“You did it, Captain Smelly Feet. You defeated Green Toes and saved me. However, will I repay you?” Sam grins as you pick him up and swing him around. “Oh, I know! How about a kiss?” He squeals when you blow a raspberry against his cheek.

“‘Top! ‘Top!” Sam pushes your face away from his, giggling. 

“Well, I hate to stop all the fun, but we have to go to the store or we’re gonna starve to death.” You gently put Sam down and fall to the floor with your hand on your forehead. “So hungry, not gonna make it.” Dean laughs at your dramatics and whispers something to Sam. Sam nods with a mischievous grin on his face. 

“I’ll save you!” Sam yells, before jumping on top of you. 

      Sam tugs at your sleeve from the seat in the shopping cart, pulling you down to his level. “Bean likes bacon and eggs and waffles for bweakfast, but Dad never makes them for us. He just buys ceweal because it doesn’t have to be cooked.” You fight the urge to roll your eyes and say something nasty about their father. 

“You know what? I think eggs, bacon, and waffles are great for breakfast.” You right yourself and smile at the small boy. “What do we want for dinner? Dean, what’s something you want?” Dean looks a little startled at your question. Of course, John never asks what the boys want. It’s always a matter of convenience. 

“Can we do burgers?” His eyes light up when you nod your head, and he hugs your waist. “You’re the best.” 

       Sam sits on the counter, watching you teach Dean how to make burgers. “The first rule of cooking, wash your hands. Did you wash your hands?” 

“Yep, smell.” Dean smiles and holds his hands up to you. You lean in and sniff, the smell of Irish Spring prevalent on his hands. 

“Good job. Sammy, what about you?” Sam smiles and nods his head.

“I helped him,” Dean says proudly. 

“Okay, we’re going to make the sauce before we cook the burgers. I laid everything out for you while you washed your hands. The little cup is mayo and the measuring spoons have sriracha, honey, lemon juice, and garlic in them. Dump all that in and stir it up.” Stepping back, you watch as Dean dumps everything into the glass bowl you had set out before handing Sam the spoon to stir it up. 

“All done!” Sam shouts, tipping the bowl forward for you to inspect their work.

“That’s perfect! You can set that to the side until we finish the rest of it.” You bend down and pull a cast-iron skillet out of the cold oven. “This is your new best friend for cooking, boys. A cast-iron skillet. They’re heavy, and you have to take good care of them, but they will last a long time and give your food good flavor.” 

“And you can hit monsters with it and hurt them!” Dean pipes up, a proud smile on his face. 

“That’s right,” you return his smile, but the fact that he has to know that breaks your heart. Dean hops up onto the counter on your right, and Sam scoots closer on your left to watch. You turn the stove eye on medium-low heat and pour a small amount of oil into the pan. “We have to let the pan and oil heat up before we can start cooking.”  

      Dean’s eyes are huge as he watches you plate burgers. “They’re beautiful,” he mumbles. 

The boys hop off the counter and help you carry the plates to the table. Sam takes small, careful steps, his little tongue poking out as he concentrates. 

“As much as you love food, Dean, you should be a chef when you grow up.” Dean looks up at you curiously, like the thought had never crossed his mind. It probably hadn’t, all the kid knew was hunting. Damn John. 

“Do you really think I could be a chef?” 

“Of course, I do! You can be anything you want. You’re a smart little boy.” Dean blushes and takes a bite of his burger.

“This is so good! You were right; the fried egg and bacon make it even better than regular burgers!” 

“After we eat, do you guys wanna watch a movie? I have Scooby-Doo.” 

“YES!” The boys both yell excitement, making you laugh.

      You walk through the house, checking that everything is turned off and locked up. Sam had fallen asleep during their movie, and Dean hadn’t been far behind. You hadn’t wanted to disturb them when they looked so peaceful, so you let them stay in your bed for the night. 

As you make your way back upstairs, you hear glass shattering. “Shit,” you whisper, hurrying to the boys. They’re both still sound asleep. You shake Dean awake and pick Sam up from the bed. “Dean, listen to me, baby. You gotta come with me and be quiet, okay?” He nods, still rubbing at his eyes and trying to wake up. You can hear loud voices and footsteps coming from downstairs. You have to hurry. 

Leading Dean into the spare bedroom you pull a panel away from the wall of the closet. “Dean, go in there.” He follows your orders and you lay Sam down next to him, stroking his hair before you lean over and kiss Dean on the forehead. “You’ll be safe, I promise.”

“Don’t go, Y/N. Hide with us.” Dean’s eyes shine, his little voice trembling. It breaks your heart. 

“Baby, I can’t, that space is too small. Everything’s going to be okay. I love you, Dean and I love Sammy, too. I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”

Dean watches as you close the panel, leaving him and Sam in darkness. He can hear the voices coming from downstairs and each banging footstep sends a shiver through him. “Please be safe. Please be safe.” He whispers to himself over and over, a silent prayer for you. You hadn’t told him to watch out for Sammy, hadn’t ordered him to be brave. You told him how much you loved him and that everything would be okay. A tear slips down Dean’s cheek as he lays down next to Sam and closes his eyes tightly. 

      “Wanna tell me why you’re in my house?” You swing your arm around the first man you see, holding a knife to his throat. He freezes, calculating his next move. 

He slams all of his weight backward into a wall, knocking the breath out of you but you hang onto the knife. “Stupid bitch,” he spits at you and reaches up to wipe at a trickle of blood on his face. You must have cut him when you hit the wall. You take advantage of him being distracted and launch yourself into him. He stumbles back and falls on his ass, his head bouncing off the floor. You move past him only to be met with a gun to your face. 

“I don’t think so,” a familiar voice says, coming from around the corner. Your stomach drops when yellow eyes meet yours.

“Azazel.” 

“The one and only. It’s been a while, Y/N.” His smile is arrogant, taunting. “Look, I’m sorry about your old man and kid. More so about the kid. I needed her.” You ball your fists at your side, anger rippling through you. “I’m here because a little demon told me you had the Winchester brats.” 

“You’re too late actually. I put them on a bus to Sioux Falls a few hours ago.” You willed yourself to stay calm, to look him in the eyes, and give no indication of a lie. He growls and wraps his hand around your throat. 

“What a pity.” You scream as pain erupts through your body. Blood trickles down the side of your mouth. You defiantly spit in Azazel’s face. 

“Fuck you.”

       Dean hears your scream and slams his hands against his ears. “No, please no.” Sam rouses and mumbles your name. Dean pulls him into his lap. “Shh, we have to be quiet. Okay, Sammy? It’s going to be okay.” Sam whimpers but nods his head. 

They stay that way for a while, waiting for you to come back for them. Dean silently rocks Sam in his lap, occasionally humming a song to him in the dark crawl space. “You stay here. I’m going to look around.”

“No, Bean, don’t go!” Sam grabs onto Dean’s sleeve. 

“Sammy, stay here. I’ll be back. I swear.” Dean moves the heavy panel and crawls out, the light coming from the window making him squint. He listens at the top of the steps for the voice and footsteps from earlier, but all he hears is silence. The silence scares him more. 

He tiptoes down the stairs, peeking around the corner into the kitchen. You’re there on the floor, not moving. “Y/N?!” Dean shouts and races to you. His hands hover over you, unsure of what to do. “Y/N, please. You promised,” he chokes on the last word, a sob bubbling up. 

“Dean?” You rasp out his name and reach a weak hand up to his face. “It’s okay, baby.” 

“It’s not okay!” He shouts. You guide his head down to lay on your stomach and run your fingers through his hair. 

“You’re gonna grow up and do amazing things, Dean. You are so smart and so good. I love you so much.”  You wince as you try to breathe. Dean can hear how faint your pulse is becoming, how shallow your breaths are. 

“Please, don’t leave me, Y/N. Please,” Dean cries.

“Shh, baby, listen to me. Go in the library, the number for your dad’s motel is there. Call him and then take Sammy to my room and watch Scooby-Doo until he comes. I love you both, Dean so very much. Now go.” He crawls up and kisses your cheek. 

“We love you, too.” He does as he’s told, trying his best to get himself together. 

He dials the number you had written down in a notebook on your desk.

“Hello?”

“Dad? Something’s happened.”

Tags: @fictionalabyss, @leave-me-2-rot-among-the-flowers, @hobby27

[danlusional]

05 - forever and a little more

book: Distant Shores pairing: Oliver Cochrane x f!mc (Valerie Sawyer) rating: NSFW word count: 2,487 note: that ending was so unsatisfying, might as well write the aftermath BECAUSE WE NEED CLOSURE @ PB!!!! i’d rant about how Oliver had so much potential to be an amazing LI but pb did him dirty, did the whole book dirty. retaliation? fics. so enjoy! p.s this is my first time in SO LONG to write a smut (this is even a very light smut i think) :”)

It wasn’t like the first time she landed somewhere she shouldn’t have been. She wasn’t confused or scared, she had a purpose now. Robert landed right next to her, just like how they first departed, centuries ahead of the time they were in at the moment. “So, you’re still going to him?”, he simply asked.

“You’re still after the treasure?”, Valerie retorted. They were definitely an unlikely duo but they both knew what they wanted and how to get them.

Robert scoffed and she could see a shadow of a smirk on his face. “Out of my way, girl, and we’re both going to get back alive.”

“What if I don’t want to do that this time around? Going back?”, the blond called out when he was already starting to walk away. The man stopped and gave her a look over his shoulder.

“Suit yourself. That blasted compass still going to take you back, no matter what.”, that was it before he continued on his way.

It was already dark, and they conveniently landed in the woods near Tiburon. From their past experiences, they’ve only skipped a few months up to a year or so ever since the first time Valerie found herself in the past. Now, she didn’t know how many times has passed from the last time she was here. The compass only brought them where the call of their hearts was, so it was no mistake that Oliver was in the small port town.

She moved quickly in the shadows, already changing into her time-appropriate attire, yet still not wanting to bring any attention to herself. People whispered and gossiped that she was plundering across the Caribbean or even further whenever she blipped out to the future, but it was better for her to let them keep the assumptions rather than to see her in the flesh.

The salty brine in the air grew stronger once she was already over at the docks. Her eyes scanned the towering ships, looking for his. There was no assurance that it was still the same after all these times, but Valerie had to trust her gut. If it wasn’t for the compass’ call, at least her feelings could navigate her through.

The Royal Navy flag gently swayed with the night wind and she knew, that this was it. There was still the rope that she always used to climb aboard, tied safely onto the deck. It was like he knew that she would always come back for him. And she always would until she couldn’t anymore.

Valerie jumped and climbed up, noticing the absence of any crew member milling about. It was easier this way. With the tip of her toes, the girl made her way to the door of the captain’s cabin, noticing the soft candlelight illuminating through the stained glass on it. He was still awake, she thought. Maybe this time she wouldn’t have to slid into his bedside.

The door opened and closed behind her back ever so softly, just like her steps against the wood beneath her boots. The room was warm and dimmed lit, almost cozy for her. Her eyes bore to the man standing at the front of the desk across the room with her breath hitched in her throat. He always had that effect on her. “Oliver.”, she softly called him, announcing her arrival.

He looked up from the paper he was holding in his hand and smiled, as if he had been expecting her to come tonight. “I knew it.”, he whispered before quickly closing the distance between them, embracing her with his strong arms. “I knew I could count on my heart to tell me that you were coming.”

“I thought you’d be back to England.”, she buried her face in his shoulder, taking a deep, long breath to savour his musky scent. “How long have I been gone this time?”

“Almost one year. I count each day in between, to make sure if there was some sort of pattern. I want to be sure when would the next time be.”, he pulled away, just enough to see her face with the soft glow around them while his hands cupping her cheeks. His words always punched a hole in her heart. They both knew the compass’ logic was hard to understand and how each visit could be her last.

“There’s nowhere else I want to be, except by your side.”, her whispers were as soft as the wind as it was only for them to hear. Nothing and no one else outside the cabin mattered. “I want you to be happy. I want you to live happily to your fullest extent. You’re going to be promoted—“

He put up his hand to stop her. “I have been promoted.”, a smile was threatening to bloom on his lips. “You are not looking at a lieutenant anymore. It’s Commodore Cochrane.”

Valerie gasped softly in surprise before launching herself at him once more, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. They both laughed as he spun her around before setting her feet back onto the ground. “That is amazing! Congratulations!”, she exasperated, feeling out of breath from the good news. “Has it been long since then?”

“Quite a time has passed. I was dying to tell you the news, just waiting for your return once more.”, he smiled that brilliant smile of his. The one that made her swooned by the stranger in a faux pirate outfit on the first day they met. The smile that always reminded her how big her love was for him, despite the time and space restrain. “How long do you have this time?”

“A few hours… Months… Years. You know how it can just take me back in a blink of an eye.”, she pursed her lips while their eyes interlocked. It had never gotten easier to go back and forth. They knew with every ‘hello’, she might not even get a chance to say ‘goodbye’. This romance they had was bittersweet, but neither of them wanted to let it go.

“Then, we best to make every second count.”, he smirked with his hands clasping her waist. She knew where this was heading and she took the initiative, backing him up to the desk. Her palms pressed against the smooth cold wood on each of his side, trapping Oliver in between. “Tell me what you want, Valerie.”

She loved it whenever she took the lead. He might be the respected Navy Officer out there, but here, where there were only the two of them, he was hers. “I want you to watch me. Eyes on me, Commodore.”

The girl stepped back as she slowly taking each article of clothing one by one. First, her boots. Next, she turned around as she unbuttoned her pants, bending forward as she pushed it down, just enough for him to appreciate her backside. Valerie could hear his low, tortured whisper. “Patience, Oliver. You are a gentleman, no?”, she teased him with a smirk over her shoulder.

“You enjoy testing my patience.”, his eyes were dark with lust as he held onto the edge of the desk, as if it held himself back from ravaging her right then and there.

She faced him once more, only her linen shirt was in the way. Her hands took their time to untie it and let the shirt fell to her feet. It always felt like the first time he had seen her bare in front of him. He could never resist her. There were times when she would asked for his attention with her body, whenever he was busy working or when she arrived late at night, but all those times, he caved in.

“I never have wanted you more than I do right now.”, Oliver extended his hand to her and she took it, guiding her back to him. He admired the sight before him; how the light reflected her skin, her blonde hair looked golden, and how right it felt whenever she was in his arms.

“Let’s test that, shall we?”, Valerie skilfully undo the buttons of his uniform, knowing her way around it after times and times again. Her hands glided across his smooth chest and every dips of his muscles to let the jacket off. She leaned in to press kisses along his jawline, stopping at his ear to whisper. “It’s your turn to tell me what you want.”

Before he could say anything, her hand was already at his trousers, unbuttoning them as well and tugging at the edge to push them down. It was the threat of time or just pure lust that made her so eager for him. From the looks of him, he seemed eager too. “I want you—“, his words was cut off when her hand finally made contact with his erection. She stroke him at a leisure pace while letting her lips made their way down on the side of his neck. “Fuck, Valerie…”

“Hm, I love it when you curse.”, she smiled against his skin as her hand kept working, teasing the head every time her fingers went up.

His hand finally caught hers and she knew that it was his turn. “You always know how to bring out the best and worst of me.”, he held onto her waist and turned her around, then backed her up until she had to lie down across the desk. Valerie could only laugh and wrapped her arms around his shoulder once more, bringing him down for a searing kiss on his lips. “Say my name tonight. I don’t care if the whole ship wakes up because of you.”

“Why, that’s a little scandalous, don’t you think?”, she grinned but they both knew they didn’t care. His hands trailed her sides once he straightened himself up, positioning himself between her legs. She bit her lower lip in anticipation as his feather-light touch drifted across her skin until they reached her hips. “What are you going to do to me, Commodore?”

He groaned at the sight and the tone of her voice. Oliver pulled her closer and let her leg rest on his shoulder, kissing the side of her knee. “You are mine.”, he whispered onto her skin as if it was a mantra he only said it in secret. His lips left a trail from her knee to her inner thigh, slowly and gently, rarely enough.

“Then, take me.”, the desperation was dripping from her voice as she looked at him through half-lidded eyes. The view of her sprawled on his desk, bare and ready, definitely enough for him to finally, finally, gave into her. He lined himself up before gently pushing his cock into her, bringing in a sigh from the both of them. It had been too long for him.

They started out slow and steady as Valerie wrapped her legs around him, making sure she got every bit of him. The warmth of the cabin, the building euphoria, and the feelings she had in her chest were making her dizzy. She could never get enough of Oliver’s moans and groans along every thrust. “I… Missed you so—“, she moaned at the end of her unfinished sentence, feeling his pace picking up.

“I missed you too. I missed this.”, he replied in fervent whisper. “There’s nothing in this world… That can make me give up on you.”

Her chest tightened, in love and in pain, all blended into one. She sat up and pressed herself against him, pulling him down with her hand on his nape to kiss him. Their breaths melt into one as they moaned against each other’s lips from the steady rocking of his hips. They were the very definition of star-crossed lovers and Valerie long realised that she could never love another man, like she loved him.

He swiftly picked her up from the desk with his arms secured around her, making her squeal and giggle from the sudden move. “What are you doing?!”, she asked as she held onto him, arms and legs still wrapped around him. Oliver lied her down on the bed and quickly pinned her arms above her head, holding onto her wrists together. “I love you. That’s something that can never be undone by time, space, or anything else in this universe.”

A smile broke onto his features and he just leaned down, letting their noses bumped onto each other as his forehead rested against hers. “My heart, body, and soul belongs to you. I don’t care if I have to sail the seas all my life for you… I’ll do it. I’ll do anything if it means I can have you with me.”

“I’m with you now. That’s what matters most.”, she whispered with her legs sneaked up onto his sides, wrapping themselves around him to bring him closer. “So, where were we?”

Oliver laughed softly, one of the most beautiful sounds she ever heard, and nodded. He still had her wrists held tied when he thrusted back into her. This time, he picked up where he left off and wasted no time to moved faster than before. The room seemed blurred as pleasure finally caught up to her. Her hands were desperate to hold onto something, anything, but he wouldn’t budge.

“Oliver…”, she moaned his name, eyes closing from the tight feel in her gut. He hummed in reply but that was the only thing they needed. They didn’t have to say much. Their bodies were already doing the talking.

———

When morning finally came, his hand moved against the sheet on the other side of the bed. Nothing. His eyes opened in an instant to see the bed empty beside him. There were traces of someone sleeping next to him, but where was that someone? Oliver felt his heart sunk, just like the other times where his love had to leave him once more.

“You’re awake?”, her soft voice caught his attention. She was only dressed with her linen shirt, bare from her hips to her legs. Her hair was slightly tousled from their excursion last night. It was not a dream.

Valerie smiled and came back to the bed, leaning in to kissed him while her hand gently stroking his cheek. “Did I scare you?”

“I thought you were gone already.”, he held onto her, afraid that time would take her back this instant. “It won’t be fair.”

“It’s never fair.”, she was right. “Every time I open my eyes and I see that I’m still next to you, I’m eternally grateful. I will never take that for granted.”

“As do I.”, he nodded, looking directly into her eyes and gently pushed away a strand of hair from her face. “We’ll set sail to London today. Do you think you’ll be able to stay until we live off a few years… or forever, over there?”

“There’s nothing I’d like more.”

[pynches]

memories we hold (as part of our soul) - chapter 1

a/n an anon requested a childhood best friend fic and i turned into a multi-chapter slow burn of sorts! i worked pretty hard on it so i hope you all like it!

word count: 2343

tw: mention of child abuse (canon)

He saw the bruise first.

The shadows from the late afternoon casted over the boy’s face making it appear bigger than it was.

“How did you get that?” Ronan had asked with childlike curiosity, his hand already moving up to touch the purpling skin.

The boy had flinched away, his hand coming up in front of his face to protect himself. Ronan’s lip jutted out, confused and hurt at the clear rejection.

“I’m sorry,” he stammered, stepping back himself. He had learned from tending to the various animals at the Barns that if you scared them you had to make yourself look smaller so they didn’t feel threatened anymore. He sat down on the soft grass of the mysterious forest he often dragged Declan and Matthew to so they could build their treehouse further.

The boy’s face turned to the side a bit in confusion. Ronan waited patiently until he sat down in front of him and grinned at him widely.

“I’m Ronan,” he said, taking the hand that was stretched out to him. He giggled a bit at how grown up it felt.

“Adam,” the boy, Adam, had replied, gifting Ronan with a shy smile. His accent reminded Ronan of the sweet lady at the candy store who always gave him one piece of candy more when his mom’s back was turned, melodious and languid like the Henrietta sun.

“Wanna see my treehouse?” Ronan asked then, pulling Adam up by his hand when he nodded. Ronan didn’t let go of Adam’s hand, instead he let it swing between them.

“When you’re out with your brothers, remember to hold each other’s hand,” Aurora always said, right before they were running out of the door to another one of their imagined adventures. “That way you will never lose each other.”

He led Adam up the tree, showing him exactly where to climb. “My brother Declan helped me make it!” he said excitedly, showing Adam around the half finished tree-house. He brushed a dark curl out of his face but it stubbornly fell in front of his eyes again.

Adam looked around in wonder, not ever having seen a treehouse before. “I could live here,” he said quietly, his eyes roaming over the open space. Ronan noticed Adam was starting to look quite sad and despite not getting what had upset him, he grabbed Adam’s hands and spun them around in circles until Adam let out a laugh.

“We can come back,” Ronan said when they were laying on the wooden floor, splinters probably worming their way into their skin now. His vision was still tilting a bit. He pictured them on a pirate ship, the waves causing the motion sickness instead of childlike playing.

Adam turned to look at him, his eyes still slightly unfocussed. Ronan couldn’t help but giggle and poke Adam’s nose. He scrunched his nose at Ronan’s touch, his freckles more pronounced with them flowing into each other. “Do you mean that?”

“Of course!” Ronan answered excitedly. “We’re best friends now,” he added solemnly like he was making a great vow with the boy he had only known for an hour at most. “And best friends do things together!”

Adam gave Ronan his first actual smile then, one of his front teeth missing, the new one just poking through. The smile was cheerful and bright and Ronan couldn’t help but smile back.

And that was the start of a friendship that was supposed to follow them into adulthood. The kind of friendship that was unbreakable because you grew up together and thus understood each other better than anyone ever could. And for a while, it looked like it was headed that way.

They were inseparable for a while.

Now it was not three boys running off and using sticks to fight each other like the knights in the fairytales they read, but four. Adam was well liked by all three brothers for a different reason.

Matthew loved everyone and Adam was no different. He liked Adam a little better than most people, though, because Adam was always kind to him. Adam had put a bandage on Matthew’s newly acquired scratch wound once with practised ease and he had loved him ever since.

Declan loved Adam but he would never admit it. Even as a kid he had been closed off, hiding his true emotions and feelings within himself so he appeared as a blank slate for others to interpret how they wanted. He had never been carefree like his brothers, he never had the opportunity to, but he saw a resourcefulness and cleverness in Adam that he didn’t put into place until he was older and understood it better. Nevertheless, Declan admired him despite him being younger which was the biggest obstacle for his young age.

Ronan grew to love Adam the most. Adam was the first friend he ever really had outside of his brothers and he cherished it as much as a nine year old really could. Even when Adam was distant, fresh marks littering the skin of his small arms, Ronan tried his best to put a smile on his face because that's what friends do. He had learned to not ask about them but he asked his mom once.

“Is he sick?” he had asked her as she was tucking him back into bed after a bad dream. “Is that why he has bruises everywhere? Is he going to die?”

“He won’t die,” Aurora had said sweetly, the hesitancy before she spoke not going unnoticed by Ronan.

“Mom-“ Ronan had said fearfully, tears brimming in his eyes.

Aurora gently brushed one of Ronan’s curls behind his ear. “He is having a bit of a tough time at home, sweetheart.”

“We have to help him!” Ronan had said, eternally positive and kind-hearted. Aurora couldn’t help but let a prideful smile slip out.

“Trying to help him could only make it worse,” she said softly. She couldn’t possibly explain to Ronan that child-services weren’t always reliable and that she was afraid what would happen if they deemed his parents okay. She couldn’t explain what was really happening to Ronan because as much as she feared for Adam, as much she wanted to protect Ronan from all bad, she was wired that way after all.

“Sleep now,” she said and took Ronan into her arms, singing him a lullaby until he was snoring softly, his face resting peacefully against her chest.

Aurora would remain seated like this for a long time, silently worrying about the sweet but silent boy that had walked into her boys’ lives. Her motherly instincts extended beyond just her sons and so she sat there, with Ronan in her arms, praying for Adam, begging God to give Adam the help she was too cowardly to give herself.

“We’re going to high school soon,” Ronan said, two years later the day before the summer holidays came to an end. His feet were dangling off the side of the tree house. Adam was seated next to him, doing the same, his untied shoelaces blowing in the wind.

“Are you scared?” Adam asked, turning his head to eye Ronan for a second. He had grown a lot since they met but his face was still the same, youthful and radiating happiness. His dark curls bounced in the wind, Adam had the urge to smooth them back like he had seen Aurora do many times.

Ronan shook his head with a laugh. “It will be fun!” He slouched in on himself a little after. “My dad says so at least.”

Adam looked out into the forest, his eyes already wise beyond their age. “I hope it will be,” he decided on, shooting Ronan a small smile.

“We won’t see each other much once we start,” Ronan said, pulling his legs up to turn his body towards Adam, the noses of his beaten down shoes resting softly against Adam’s leg.

Adam turned around too, pressing his legs in between Ronan’s, their ankles now touching comfortably. “We won’t,” he agreed, an edge of sadness in his voice Ronan wanted to take away.

“We’ll still be friends,” Ronan said. It was a statement, a promise, unyielding. Adam smiled, his teeth fully grown out and straight.

“Promise?” he asked, a soft smile lingering on his lips as he stuck out his pinky for Ronan to hook around with his own.

“Promise.”

They kept their pinkies hooked as they watched the sun set, each others’ touch tethering them to the last moment they would have together.

They walked back out of the forest, waving at each other one last time before they both went their own way back home, not knowing this would be the last time they saw each other.

Ronan often wondered what he would have done or said if he knew life would diverge the paths that had interwoven together. If he had known he would lose his best friend and made room for another that didn’t quite feel the same.

Adam had gone to school the next day with nervous butterflies fluttering in his stomach and the distant reminder that he would see Ronan again that afternoon. He’d just have to survive the day and then he’d be in the presence of someone who had become just as familiar to him as he was to himself.

His father had other plans.

It started when he came home from school and didn’t end until much later, when Adam had already left Ronan waiting in the treehouse where they were supposed to meet up.

Adam didn’t want to explain and Ronan eventually stopped waiting.

The treehouse stood vacant, the walls holding children’s laughter and crude words written secretly underneath posters. It held childhood memories neither boy was bound to forget. It carried secrets and unexpected tears, names etched into the wood. It was empty now, present in every day thought but not in actuality anymore.

Adam wondered himself if it had ever really existed.

He had seen Ronan after their contact was lost. Many times even. It was inevitable with the size of the town. Dark curls bouncing as he ran through the street, carefree and wild as always, with a new boy at his side. Expensive glasses and straightened polos, someone Adam never had been and would never become.

Many times, Adam had punished himself in his mind for not saying something, waving at least. He always hid himself at least, watching as Ronan passed him by. It always left him with an ache in his heart, a loss he couldn’t put into words. Miserable wasn’t a word strong enough for what he felt. Losing Ronan was much greater than misery could describe.

The pain faded after time, still present sometimes but not a constant anymore.

Ronan still thought of the sun-kissed boy often, wondered what had happened to him, what made him turn away from him.

But he had found Gansey, who was much different from Adam but eerily alike him too sometimes. Earning Gansey’s friendship was something he was proud of and he admired Gansey like he did no other, but it wasn’t the same feeling he used to have with Adam. It was not something he could put into words but it was something undeniably present.

He was thankful for Gansey though and grew to love him more like a brother than he did Declan, someone who had grown to become the person who had to face his anger, his malice, his pain and take it in stride because he was the ‘man of the house’ now that his father was gone.

It was Gansey who hugged him close when Ronan broke down again, plagued by nightmares of his father’s death. It was Gansey who didn’t protest when he had to help put the tattoo cream on when he went off to the tattoo parlour with a snarl and a fake-id. It was Gansey who let him live with him when he was banned from the Barns.

If Ronan had looked closer and didn’t turn away at his father’s face reflected in Declan’s own, he would have known Declan would have done this for him too. He would have held his younger brother like his mother once had, comforted himself by the nightmares that were plaguing him too. He would have lectured him on the tattoo, sure, but he would have helped him. Because that is what big brothers do and he used to be the best one in Ronan’s eyes.

Ronan’s eyes were elsewhere, set on drag-racing now, drinking until he forgot about his father, about his failing grades, about the crushes he had on the wrong people, about the boy with the sad eyes that still plagued him when he closed his eyes.

A boy he thought he’d never see again.

Until he was there, pushing his bike forward on the small hill he had to climb. It was years later, both starting junior year now. He was still on the thin side, though Ronan now understood why, but there were muscles straining in his arms too. His freckles were still just as apparent, his hands bigger but still just as boyish. Ronan remembered holding it tightly as they rushed off a hill just as big as this one. His stance was determined, his thin lips pulled tight. They met each other's eyes once before Ronan sunk back, shaking his head at a confused Gansey who had slowed down the Pig. Gansey pressed down on the gas pedal again and Ronan blamed the racing of his heart on the speed.

“Please,” he prayed in his head, closing his eyes at the force of the word.

He didn’t know what he prayed for. Please, let this be another chance? Please, let me have one more conversation with someone that had meant so much to me for so long? Please, don’t ruin me because I can’t bear more pain.

“Please,” he prayed again and let Gansey drive them away, leaving Adam as nothing but a spot in the distance.

[dusky-dancing]

The Prince and the Pirate - CH 4

For SoKai Week - Day 4

Story Summary: Sora finds himself far away from the walls of the Radiant Garden he's known his whole life, kidnapped by a rowdy group of pirates whose captain is as alluring as she is mysterious. What he thought was a simple hostage negotiation turns into an adventure that Sora couldn't have anticipated. He doesn't know which is worse, not knowing what's up ahead, or liking it that way.

Rating: T

Genre: Romance, Adventure, Pirate AU

Length: ~ 1500 words

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Links for story navigation:

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7

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Sora was used to having his sleep interrupted by sudden turbulence, but something about the jolt that woke him that night felt different, more forceful. The cold water suddenly dripping on his face made going back to sleep right away more difficult.

Another blow, followed by shouts from the deck above, sent him onto his feet. He hadn't been the only one either, as the rest of the crew members shared his expression of worry and confusion.

On the deck, the first thing that greeted him was the heavy rain. Within seconds, all of his clothes became soaked straight through, but another sight soon took his full attention: a giant tentacle splayed across the deck, alive and thrashing wildly.

"Captain, what's happening?" Biggs shouted.

"I don't know, monsters have never attacked my ship!" Her voice came through, bringing him some strange sense of relief. He tore his eyes from their intruder to find her clinging to the shrouds on the other side of the deck, dodging and stabbing at another tentacle. "Don't just stand there," she shouted, "grab a sword and free your ship!"

Sora didn't have to be told twice. Weeks ago, he'd thought he'd be fighting to free himself, not help the ones who'd kidnapped him, but now he didn't have a choice. Summoning his Keyblade for the second time on the ship, he finally put his skills to use against the nearest appendage. It was large, covered in slime, and filled with muscle, but not impossible to fight. It nearly took all of his agility to dodge its swipes, but with enough hits it eventually retreated.

Sora breathed a sigh of relief, until two more took its place.

As he prevented another from damaging the ship further, he was both curious and terrified to see the creature they belonged to.

Soon, his back hit another's, and a giant feather dangled in his face. He blew it away and turned to find Kairi back to back with him.

"Putting that gift of yours to use, I see," she shouted over the rain.

"Feels good to actually use it. Are the kids-?"

"They're safe as long as we're afloat."

The dread weighing on Sora's heart lifted slightly, though staying afloat against a creature like this seemed difficult. "You know what this thing is?"

"I've never seen something this big before!" From her heavy breathing, she'd been fighting just as hard as he had.

With the ship free of two more tentacles, they had a brief window, but as he turned to her, she held nothing but a fierce determination in her eyes.

"Hold on!" she shouted, and he quickly grabbed for the nearest rail, this time knowing what to anticipate.

Her movements now resembled less like a graceful wave and more like a cracking whip. She drew her arms up and thrust them forward, driving the ship out of the monster's grasp. Several crates flew off the deck from the force, and the ship rocked heavily to level with the waves once more.

They were freed for the time being. Jessie, Biggs and Wedge used the opportunity to prepare the cannons, while Tidus, Wakka, and Selphie all worked to fix the masts and sails.

Sora and Kairi could see the monster moving underneath the waves towards them, but instead of grappling the ship once more, it rammed the side of the hull, sending everyone on the deck to the floor. Sora lurched over the edge, thankful he'd still been gripping the railing. Whatever this thing was, it was huge, and it was determined to kill them.

As Sora found his footing once more, a massive form overshadowed the already dark night on the deck. He glanced back, only to come face to face with a monstrous squid rising out of the sea. Its large head lobbed forward, and though he couldn't tell one part of its body from another, he couldn't shake the feeling that it was fixated on him.

"It's...the Kraken," Kairi muttered beside him.

Sora froze, and a deep primal fear overtook him. Sure, he'd fought people and smaller monsters on occasion in his sheltered upbringing, but never something this large. And certainly never from such a vulnerable position.

His eyes grew wide, focussed on nothing but the large beak that gaped hungrily between its appendages. A sudden force struck him from the side and pulled him flat onto the deck. When he blinked back to his senses, Kairi was hovering over him. It wasn't until a large tentacle struck where he last stood that he realized she'd saved his life amidst his stupor.

"-out of it, Sora!" He registered that she was shouting at him and tapping his face. "Gather your courage and fight!"

"Right," he shook his head and was back on his feet in an instant. Resummoning his Keyblade, he fought off his assailant and regarded Kairi once more. "You said you never get attacked. I...I think it's after me."

Sora hadn't the slightest idea why the Kraken would be after him, but Kairi didn't seem surprised at all by his suggestion. A light switched on behind her eyes, but she said nothing.

Sora may not know how he was involved in all of this, but Kairi did. And she wasn't telling him.

There was no time for questions and answers, as the Kraken withdrew and circled the ship again.

"It's going to ram the ship again!" Selphie shouted.

"The hull can't take another hit!" Wakka said. "We won't survive this thing."

Kairi's eyes fell, and Sora felt the dejection in her heart. Everyone they'd just rescued, not to mention the rest of the crew, were all at risk. Maybe the ship wouldn't survive another hit, but Sora could take the fight off of the ship. If the Kraken was truly after him, then maybe he could lead it away from everyone else.

Sora took a deep breath and climbed onto the railing, gripping a main line for support.

"What are you doing?!" Kairi shouted, stepping toward him. All eyes turned to him.

"You were right, Kairi, I needed something heroic to fight for. If that thing really is after me, then maybe I can lead it away while you all escape."

"You could die!" Selphie shouted.

Sora glanced down to Kairi and nodded. Frustration and sorrow filled her eyes, but she stayed silent.

"If this is the only truly heroic thing I do in my life, then I'll be satisfied."

Kairi stepped closer, but before she could reach out to stop him, he plunged into the ocean.

The cries and shouts that followed were quickly muffled underneath the thrashing waves. In the distance, a large mass barrelled towards the ship. He didn't have much time. Using his Keyblade, he propelled himself deeper just as the mass passed underneath him. He crashed into the monster with enough momentum to push it off of its course. It let out a fierce cry.

Sora took the opportunity to close in and slice at its appendages. If inexperience threatened him above surface, the drag of water weakened him beneath it as well.

A tentacle quickly wrapped around him and thrashed him around in the water. He could last a long time in the water, but he couldn't stay under forever. Suddenly it stopped, and the massive form faced him in the water. Its head reeled back, to reveal a massive beak that opened before him.

Sora panicked. He released his Keyblade in his free hand before summoning it in his restrained one. The magic sliced right through the flesh, severing the tendril where it held him.

The Kraken cried out in pain again. Sora avoided its limbs on his return to the surface, but his legs were beginning to sting.

He breached the surface and gasped for air. In the dark of night, he couldn't find the ship anywhere in sight. Relief flooded him, along with the heavy dread that he was stuck, alone, in the middle of the ocean with a raging sea monster.

A sudden familiar force pulled him under the surface again. That time, multiple tendrils restrained his entire body. He fought against the constriction with his Keyblade, but even his weapon wasn't strong enough to break through that many. As the Kraken's mouth opened for him once again, Sora pulled and resisted as much as he could. Even if he was above the surface, the pressure around his torso wouldn't have given his lungs enough space to breathe.

Being eaten by a giant sea monster hadn't been how Sora pictured his end. Compared to this, he would've chosen to be kidnapped by pirates in a heartbeat. But atleast he'd gotten to save people in the process.

Atleast he'd gotten to meet someone like Kairi.

Suddenly, the water surrounding him swelled, resisting the pull beneath the surface. There was a flash of red before a pointed sword pierced the Kraken's head.

Immediately, the force restraining him loosened, and Sora would've been able to breathe again if he weren't underwater. He clamoured for the surface, but found his senses dulling as the relief of air seemed to grow further and further away. His arms and legs moved haggardly, if at all. He opened his mouth, but only the remaining air in his lungs escaped as his vision tunnelled.

The last sight his eyes caught in the center of his vision was Kairi's silhouette gracefully dancing her way through the water in his direction.

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A/N: Happy Day 4 of SoKai Week! The action is really ramping up now. This fight scene was one of the first ones I wrote for this fic, because of course Sora would recklessly sacrifice himself for other people no matter what universe he's in. I'm excited to share tomorrow's piece with you all!

[inevitably-johnlocked]

Any fics in cannon where Sherlock is on drugs? (ie not a rehabAU or something no hate against those tho!)

Hi Nonny!

Ahhh, I do actually have some fics where drugs are either a part of the story OR referenced in the past-tense. This is a part 2 to an old list and I hope that it is alright

As always, gang, feel free to add your own fics

DRUGS or DRUGGING Pt. 2

See also: Self Harm, Danger Nights, and Drugs

Experiment by Gwen’s Blue Box (K+, 4,222 w., 3 Ch. || Non-Con Drugging, Hurt / Comfort, Friendship) – Of course John has always known about his flatmate’s irregular sleeping habits, especially when they’re on a case. This time, however, the case is taking longer and longer, and soon John starts to worry. But there’s not much he can do, is there? Because drugging Sherlock isn’t an option. Not yet, maybe, but will it be soon? {{CW: John drugs Sherlock without his consent}}

Angel by MrsNoggin (T, 1,513 w., 1 Ch. || Winglock, Friendship, Chromoesthesia, Drugging) – John is an angel. That can be the only explanation. A response to the challenging request for a realistic wingfic one-shot.

My Life for His by QuinnAnderson (E, 8,816 w., 1 Ch. || Guardian/Protector, Greek Mythology || Growing Up, Sex, Religious Themes, Suicide, Minor Character Death) – It began when Sherlock was eight, and he attempted to climb all the way up to the highest branch in the old willow tree in his back garden. He'd thought he was still small enough that it could support him, but the second he'd grabbed hold of it to pull himself up, the branch snapped, and down he went, plummeting a solid twenty metres.The odd thing was, he never actually hit the ground.

Kintsugi by distantstarlight (E, 14,772 w., 1 Ch. || Post S4, Emotional Hurt / Comfort, Regret / Remorse, Loneliness, Separation, Drug Use, Healing, Protective John, Sad Sherlock, Dev. Rel., Complicated Relationships, Love, Angst With Happy Ending, Sherlock is Called Freak, John’s Penance, Voyeurism, Doctor/Caretaker John, Guilty John, Detox, Fingering, Love Confessions, Cuddling, Slight Non-Con Turns Enthusiastic Consent, Virgin Sherlock) – Sherlock Holmes becomes estranged from the man he had once considered his best friend after John lets him down horribly in public. It seems that the world's only consulting detective will be on his own once again...or will he?

The Palmyra Atoll by elwinglyre (E, 16,609 w., 3 Ch. || TSo3 Divergence / Episode Fix-It, Stockholm Syndrome, Kidnapped John Watson, John Whump, Evil Mary, Angst, Cuddling & Snuggling, Toplock, Limited 3rd John POV) – As John's preparing for the wedding, Sherlock is preparing to have his heart broken, and Mary is prepared to do the unthinkable. Intervention required. Enter Sherlock. Set before Sign of Three with a far different outcome. John is drugged, kidnapped, and left on an island, but not just any old island.

Wonderful, Etcetera. by VictoryCandescence (T, 16,955 w., 3 Ch. || Wonderful Life AU || Alternate Timelines, Brotherhood, Homophobia, Suicidal Ideations, Mentions of Drug Use, Friendship, Different TRF, Sherlock’s Past, Victor Trevor is Past Boyfriend, Depression, Hallucination?, Love Confessions, Christmas, First Kiss) – Sherlock thinks everyone would be better off if he had never existed, including and especially himself. When he finds himself in a world in which his wish has been granted, he begins to think perhaps even he could be wrong – but it takes an unlikely chaperone to make him not only observe, but understand.

Silhouettes by allonsys_girl (E, 28,585 w., 7 Ch. || Canon Compliant, POV John, Heavy Drinking, Sad/Depressed John, Grief/Mourning, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Reunion, Foot Jobs, Blow Jobs, Infidelity, Cheating, Drug Use/Abuse, Anal, Switchlock, Rimming, Parentlock) – Sherlock and John find comfort in each other's arms, but as ever with these two, it's not your typical relationship. It's fluffy at the beginning, gets deeply angsty in the middle, gets porny at the end.

The Whore of Babylon Was a Perfectly Nice Girl by out_there (E, 32,897 w., 1 Ch. || Past Drug Use, Blowjobs, Toplock, Mentions of Switching, Rough Sex, Background Cases, Sherlock’s Past, Sherlock’s Sexual History, Experienced Sherlock, Past One Night Stands, Fingering, Cuddling, Possessive Sherlock, Paris Holiday, Bed Sharing, Naked Lie-Ins, Bathing Together, Confessions, Worried Sherlock, Laying in Bed All Day, Meddling Mycroft, Naked Lazy Day) – Sherlock walks into a room and takes all the space right out of it. He does the same inside John's head.

The Real Great Perfumers by shelleysprometheus (E, 45,355 w., 68 Ch. || Case Fic, Alternating POV, Gay Sherlock / Bi John, Canon Compliant with Divergence at TRF, Friends to Lovers, Oral / Anal, Pining, First Kiss / Time, Dev. Rel., Drugging, Body Worship, Bathing, Love Confessions, Travelling, Bottomlock, Cranky Sherlock, BJ’s, Alternating POV, Jealous John) – The case, this case. This extraordinary, fascinating, scintillating case. A house. Designed entirely by its eccentric owner, built by no less than five hundred expert tradesmen in the heart of Marrakesh. A house that had, seemingly not only driven its owner out, but also to his quite unpleasant death. And a perfumer, a chemist no less, the very thought of the secrets that house could reveal, would reveal was irresistible. Sherlock had to have this case ... and it seems, he also had to have John! Part 1 of the Forethought and Fire series

Impossible to Feign by achray (M, 49,204 w., 12 Ch. || TRF Rewrite / Reverse Reichenbach, Suicidal Ideations / Discussions, Drug Use/Abuse, Mutual Pining, Friends With Benefits, John Accepts his Sexuality, Anxious Sherlock, Meddling Mycroft, Depression, Hallucinations, Secret Agent John, BAMF John, Reunion, Make-Up Sex, Ambiguous Ending) – Sherlock leant forward, his long fingers curving round to grip John’s.“I won’t let him win,” he said, eyes hard. “I will do whatever it takes to get you out.”

Points by lifeonmars (E, 53,791 w., 42 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || HLV Rewrite / Canon Divergence, Married Life, Pregnancy / Baby Watson, Drinking to Cope, Boxing / Fisticuffs, Clueless John, Angst, Minor Medical Drama, Tattoos, Christmas, First Kiss/Time, Eventual Happy Ending, Love Confessions, Doctor John, Sexuality Crisis, Slow Burn, Case Fic, Drugging, Blow/Hand Job, Emotional Love Making, Parenthood, Passage of Time) – What if His Last Vow never happened? This fic picks up a few months after John and Mary's wedding, in an alternate universe where Magnussen doesn't exist, but Mary is still pregnant. Life continues -- just in a different direction. And slowly, Sherlock and John find their way to each other.

The Thing Is by TSylvestris (E, 56,743 w., 21 Ch. || Case Fic, Dev. Rel., Anal/Oral, Blow Jobs, Meddling Mycroft, Drama, Romance, Humour, Casual Encounters, Pining Idiots, Possessive Sherlock, Orgasm Delay, Rough / Alley Sex, Public Sex, John Whump, Drugged John, Emotional Love Making, Awkward Relationship, Marriage of Convenience, Switchlock, BAMF John) – The problem with living with Sherlock, John thought, was that you never, never, ever knew the significance of anything. Like your flatmate's nose buried in your hair. Whilst you're in bed. Part 1 of Nitroglycerine

A Further Sea by i_ship_an_armada & ShinySherlock (E, 125,492 w., 23 Ch. || Historical Pirates AU || Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Doctor John / Pirate Captain Sherlock, Sailing, UST / RST, Masturbation, Action / Adventure, Mild Angst & Peril, Romance, Shaving, Molly/Janine, Bottomlock, Hand / Blow Jobs, Past Drug Use, Slow Burn, Mild Violence, Happy Ending) – Here be a tale of adventure for both body and soul, but beware if ye be not of stout heart, for this be piratelock, ya savvy? Luckless ship's surgeon John Watson takes a chance, and finds himself eye to eye with The Ghost, the scourge of the seven seas and a definite thorn in the side of the blaggard, James Moriarty. But when John finds there's more to this most cunning pirate than be meetin' the eye, he has to choose... is it a pirate's life for him?

The Adventure of the Silver Scars by tangledblue (NR [M], 142,458 w., 41 Ch. || S3 Fix-It, Post-HLV/ Post-TAB / Canon Compliant, Case Fic, No Baby, Angst, Humour, UST, Slow Burn, Angry John, Reconciliation, Not Nice Mary / Leaving Mary, Dependent Sherlock, Pining Sherlock, Caretaker John, Fist Fights, It’s An Experiment, Virgin Sherlock, Dancing, Drugging, John Whump, Pet Names, Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Scars) – It’s been thirteen months since Mary shot Sherlock and John finds he’s still pissed off about it. Sherlock had thought everything was settled: John and Mary, domestic bliss. But when John turns up at Baker Street with suitcases, the world’s only consulting detective might not be prepared for the consequences. A new case. Some old scores to settle. Certain danger. Concertos, waltzes, and whisky.

Proving A Point by elldotsee & J_Baillier (E, 186,270 w., 28 Ch. || Me Before You Fusion || Medical Realism, Insecure John, Depression, Romance, Angst, POV John, Sherlock Whump, Serious Illness, Doctor John, Injury Recovery, Assisted Suicide, Sherlock’s Violin, Awkward Sexual Situations, Alcoholism, Drugs, Idiots in Love, Slow Burn, Body Image, Friends to Lovers, Hurt / Comfort, Pain, Big Brother Mycroft, Intimacy, Anxiety, PTSD, Family Issues, Psychological Trauma, John Whump, Case Fics, Loneliness, Pain) – Invalided home from Afghanistan, running out of funds and convinced that his surgical career is over, John Watson accepts a mysterious job offer to provide care and companionship for a disabled person. Little does he know how much hangs in the balance of his performance as he settles into his new life at Musgrave Court.

Free Falling by twistedthicket1 (M, 203,574 w., 38 Ch. || Guardian Angel John, Fluff and Angst, Humour, Kidlock / Teenlock, Mystrade & Johnlock, Passage of Time, Possessive John, Drug Use / Overdose, Victor Trevor, Additional Tags to be Added) – All Guardian angels are born with a Chosen human. When this child is born, the angel comes into being to protect and care for them during their life on Earth. For John Watson, all he cares about in the world revolves around his Chosen, Sherlock Holmes. Watching him grow up though, the angel soon learns that God must have had a sense of humour the day he decided to make Sherlock, as trouble seems to follow him like a magnet wherever he goes. John can't decide what's worse, the idea of losing his Chosen one, or the fact that he may be breaking the most taboo law of heaven as he disguises himself as a human to better protect and befriend the beloved detective he's always watched from afar. He was meant to care for him. But what happens when caring evolves into something more? What happens when an emotion an angel is supposed to be incapable of possessing comes to life suddenly and viciously inside John's chest?

[toast-the-unknowing]

Lmaoooooo “when I grow up I’m going to have so much amnesia” pls just post whatever you’ve written over the last ten years I am so INTRIGUED

Well, the subject line is a Futurama quote, I can’t take credit for that, alas.

I am fond of several of the jokes in that story, but at the end of the day, it’s a mystery and I wrote 20k words of it without ever deciding what the answer to the mystery is. The odds I’ll ever bother figuring it out now are slim, especially since I look back and realize...you know...I’ve become a much better writer than I was 10 years ago and most of those 20k words aren’t great.

But some of them I like! So what the hell, why not, here’s some of my favorite bits from a Star Trek 2009 fic that will probably never otherwise see the light of day:

The whole thing with Kirk and Spock losing their memories on the same away trip is funny for a total of three seconds before it becomes utterly terrifying.

Okay, maybe there's about five minutes of Hikaru making himself sick trying to hold in laughter at the stunned stupid look on Kirk's face as he steps onto the bridge, the way that Spock mutters "what an ingenious invention" after they're beamed back to the Enterprise, but hey, Hikaru's only human. And now so is Kirk, stripped of that cockiness that comes from knowing he's survived all kinds of crazy shit that he shouldn't have, and so is Spock in a way, since he seems to have forgotten all his Vulcan mind-master training along with everything else.

And that thought is what wipes the smirk off Hikaru's face and has him exchanging sideways glances with Chekov, because they're right on the edge of Klingon space, Kang had sworn eternal vengeance against the entire crew the last time they'd seen him, and without Kirk's impossible ability to get them out of everything he gets them into, Hikaru doesn't like their odds of escaping a skirmish unharmed.

McCoy skips right over the part where anything about the situation is amusing and even skips over the "utterly terrifying" part and opts straight for angry yelling before the doors of the turbolift have finished opening to allow him onto the bridge.

"What the devil are you playing at now, Jim?" McCoy demands, striding up to Kirk and waving a tricorder at him that he can't possibly be reading, since he's too busy venting at Kirk's face to look at the machine.

The effect of this is apparently lost on the amnesiac Kirk, who looks over his shoulder trying to figure out who McCoy is talking to.

Right. No one told the Captain his name was Jim.

"We're doomed," Chekov whispers to Hikaru, who wholeheartedly agrees.

-

"More tests?" Hikaru asks Chapel. Hikaru hopes he sounds world-weary but in all likelihood he just sounds like a kid whining about not wanting to go to the dentist's. At least when he was a kid his parents would give him some candy to make the whole experience more bearable.

"You've failed them all so far," Chapel tells him.

"Doesn't being healthy count as passing?"

"Not in his Sickbay." She gestures over her shoulder at McCoy, who is ranting to the nurses that he washes his hands of Hikaru, complete with actually physically washing his hands, because McCoy has no concept of subtlety.

-

Maybe it was just the terrible psychological burden of working too long under McCoy that had made her a sadist. Hikaru had helped the med staff repair and restock Sickbay after a disastrous encounter with Romulans, and after two days of McCoy's crazy-eyes drilling into the back of his skull, he hadn't felt terribly generous toward his fellow sentient beings. Kirk, who always had to be perverse and do the opposite of what a normal person would do, had been invigorated by the experience and set some kind of mountain-climbing record on the next planet they stopped at.

-

McCoy must be having a field day, wherever he is; nothing makes him happier than a legitimate reason to be unhappy.

-

He winces and walks over to answer the door, to find Chekov's curly head bouncing around with an upbeat energy that makes Hikaru feel a thousand years old.

"What?" he asks. "Communicator doesn't work?"

"You didn't answer," Chekov points out, which is probably correct. Hikaru hadn't been aware of anything, much less the chirp of a communicator.

"You know," he tells Chekov, stepping back into his room so he can change into a fresh uniform, "when someone is annoyed with you, telling them how it's their fault doesn't make them like you any better. It just makes them more annoyed."

Chekov blinks big, hurt eyes at him. "You are annoyed with me?"

Hikaru just sighs and lets it go. "So what do I need to be told so badly?" he asks, slipping on a new pair of pants and pulling his shirt off. "I'm guessing that if it were good news, it could wait."

"We have Klingons," Chekov tells him, completely matter-of-fact, and Hikaru is never going to share with anyone, least of all Chekov, the fact that his immediate response to this was to think Russians really are that stoic.

His next thought is that he has to get to the bridge, now, so he sets off at a run with Chekov following along behind.

His third thought, that he never did finish getting dressed, takes its own sweet time occurring to him, specifically waiting until the doors to the Bridge open and Uhura looks at him, blinks her eyes at a momentary loss for words, and then smirks.

In retrospect, it will feel pretty good to have made Uhura happy about something in the middle of this whole clusterfuck. At the time, Hikaru just wonders how bad it could really be to eject himself out the nearest airlock.

"Had a disagreement with your uniform, Mr. Sulu?" Uhura asks. "Or have your just decided that today is a good day for swashbuckling?"

Hikaru plays it cool, because there are only so many options available for you when you show up to battle without a shirt on, and because there's an appreciative look in the eyes of more than one person on the Bridge that reminds him that his shirtlessness is not, in and of itself, anything to be ashamed about. "I wanted to be on hand as soon as possible to help with the situation, sir," he tells her, voice completely smooth. He falls into a formal at-ease position that draws the muscles in his chest tight, causing someone to whistle lowly.

The Acting Captain is actively fighting back laughter at this point; Uhura is going to give him shit about this for the rest of his natural life, but then again, Klingons, so Hikaru can't begrudge her trying to make the most of it now in case the rest of his natural life is only another ten minutes. "Mr. Chekov, please restrain your dramatics in the future," she tells him, and the ensign takes on a look of righteous outrage that is decades older than his face. "Perhaps you could have communicated to Mr. Sulu that another second or two's delay would not have been fatal."

"I thought it obvious, sir," Chekov says, primly. "No Russian would charge into battle in such a state of unpreparedness."

"Because they'd freeze to death on a summer's day," Hikaru mutters.

-

"How?" Uhura asks, with that same fake innocent tone she uses when she's trying to convince everyone at the table that she's got a shit hand, and dammit, Hikaru has fallen for that bluff too many times. After which he was often divested of an article of clothing, oddly enough, so the whole thing is starting to feel really familiar.

-

Kang is even willing to deal with someone who isn't Kirk, as long as Kirk is there to have accusations and insults hurled at him, which is some kind of horrible metaphor for command but Hikaru is still trying to force his jaws together and doesn't quite appreciate the many, many cosmic jokes that are unfurling in front of him.

-

Every single person on the bridge of the Enterprise who still has a brain freezes and darts their eyes to the view screen at the exact same second. Later that simultaneity would make Hikaru wonder why the hell the dancing had been so uncoordinated in the crew's performance of Pirates of Penzance, since clearly they are all psychically linked to each other. Or perhaps psychic connections require substantial motivational force. Few things are more substantial or more motivating than enraged Klingons, and – as every eyeball except two immediately takes in – they have one hell of an enraged Klingon on their hands.

"WHAT CHARADE IS THIS," Kang demands, spitting out 'charade' like it's the dirtiest word he knows. Apparently Klingon honor doesn't have much time for theater. Hikaru wonders what Klingons do for embarrassing social bonding in lieu of Pirates of Penzance.

-

"Oh, good, so we can tell them that we aren't responsible, they'll listen to that and act reasonable," McCoy mutters, before jabbing Kirk with something on the pretense of getting more brainwave readings. McCoy has been dragging Kirk around the ship with him all morning for reasons as yet unexplained. Hikaru's torn on thinking it's to cause more havoc, since every little thing that happens inspires a thousand pointless questions from the deposed captain, and thinking it's so he can stab at Kirk like some stress relief toy. It doesn't seem to be working, but modern science has not yet found a conduit big enough to channel McCoy's stress, so that would be asking a bit much to ask from a guy who needed help going to the bathroom earlier. (Hikaru made Chekov do it. That's what ensigns are for, right?)

-

Chapel had proclaimed the whole thing hogwash and said she would get around to it when she had a minute, and implied that that minute was going to be a long time coming, because apparently that attitude was handed down with command of Sickbay like the crown of a hereditary monarch.

-

Besides, there's the Klingons to consider, and even Scotty can't make hooch so strong it wipes out the memories of people on other ships. Probably. Hikaru will ask him about it when his memory is back, and they will write a paper together, "A Transwarp Theory of Moonshine", and it will ruin both of their chances of ever advancing up the command chain, which would probably suit Scotty just fine and would be the best thing to ever happen to Hikaru if it means he never has to deal with a mess like this again.

-

"When we get to the point where we're recruiting untested specialists from alternate dimensions to solve the problem, just leave me brainless," Chapel scoffs. "I don't want to know."

Hikaru scribbles a note to himself. Evil clones running the Enterprise becomes Plan Y; stealing versions of themselves from other dimensions becomes Plan Z. He thinks they have a better chance of un-fixing the teleporter to make clones again than of making it pull people from other dimensions.

-

Chekov bounds down the hall at him – speaking of teenagers – and apparently the gloom is rolling off Hikaru thick enough to strike down an enthusiastic ensign at fifty paces, because the spring goes right out of Chekov's step when Hikaru looks at him. His faces turns somber and he tugs on his uniform shirt like he's worried about wrinkles. Or maybe he just remembered that this is a catastrophe in the making and a little gravity is called for.

He nearly takes it too far, though, going for a salute and Hikaru thinks that if Chekov salutes him right now he will actually go insane. He intercepts Chekov's arm on the way up and drops it back down like its covered in nettles. Chekov looks a little confused about how to proceed from here, but hell, the kid's always telling them he's a genius, let him figure something out.

-

He picks up Chapel like a leech; when he refuses to stop in Sickbay she just attaches herself to him and starts talking every bit as rapidly as Hikaru is walking. He can't tell how she's breathing. Maybe she isn't. Hikaru feels a little bit like he isn't breathing, either, or that might just be his flair for the dramatic.

He gets distracted, too, by the nurse who is accompanying Chapel, holding several PADDS and a medical tricorder and struggling to hold it all and drop nothing and keep up on her rather short legs. Maybe they could slow down for her, but hell, Chapel's her boss and isn't worried.

Hikaru can't remember the nurse's name. That's a panicky moment, but no, it's just that she's new. Should he ask her name, he wonders, or would that be rude? As the captain, however temporary or inglorious the title may be, he should know everyone on the crew already.

At least the crew is making that easier on him by shrinking.

-

"Stress is every bit a real, medical problem, particularly among young men in high-pressure situations who think they're immortal." This comes with a side order of meaningful look.

"I assure you, Nurse, I am well-aware of my failings."

"And I'm seeing drastically heightened stress all over the ship. Heart rate, blood pressure, shaking, forgetfulness -- not amnesia -- emotional outbursts -- "

"Maybe the crew doesn't like having medical personnel hovering all around them." Hikaru jumps as the short nurse waves her tricorder over him, presumably getting a reading of his own heart rate, blood pressure, and emotional outbursts. "I'm open to any suggestions about how to lower the crew's stress levels, up to and including Ensign Chekov going door to door singing Russian lullabies."

"I'll put that down as Plan Z," Chapel says, and holy shit, can she read his mind? He makes himself think profusely repentant thoughts for his attitude the last two days and also for that time he sneaked a look at her hand at poker, just in case. Also, he probably shouldn't play poker with Chapel anymore, honest or otherwise, if she can read his mind.

-

That, that right there, is apparently what Chapel looks like when she is truly outraged and not just annoyed or sarcastic or feeling superior, which is a valuable piece of information and Hikaru files it away in the very sincere and fervent hope that he never sees it again.

"You know, just, some people," the Acting Captain of the Federation Starship Enterprise mumbles into his shoulder.

-

"How did we get here?" Hikaru mutters. He's barely even realized he's spoken, so it's doubly alarming when Chekov jumps up and grabs his shoulders, shakes them violently.

"Sulu, no, you cannot have amnesia, too," the kid starts babbling. Why is it that his accent gets easier to understand when he's worked up? Shouldn't it be the other way around? Unless, hang on, has the kid been faking his accent this whole time? "Then I will have to take command of the Enterprise and while that is a thing I have dreamed of doing, it is no good to me if no one is around to admire."