#Barrelman

[yourfathersmustache]

“Bernie Brewer” - Milwaukee Brewers With baseball wrapping up, i had to end the season with the head of the brew crew!

#baseball #mascot #bernie #bernie brewer #mlb #sports #sport mascot #beer #brew crew #brewer #illustration #cartoon #character #character design #barrelman #milwaukee #milwaukee brewers #drunk #drinking

[lilflowerpot]

So in a Pirate AU, would Lotor be the banished-prince-turned-pirate, raiding his treacherous father's ships and stirring rebellion, who then happens upon a shipwrecked Keith clinging to a piece of debris and integrates him into Lotor's crew? Or would Keith be among the pirates who lay hold of Lotor's ship and decide to hold him for ransom, only for Keith to accidentally end up falling in love with the prisoner?

(OR, are they rival pirates who unwittingly spent a few nights together while on shore, falling hard and fast before realizing that they were actually enemies? Just THINK of the pining and sexually-charged sword fights.)

personally a HUGE fan of the idea of banished-prince Lotor stowing away on what he thinks to be an innocuous merchant vessel only to discover far too late it's a slaver ship,, so he starts to work upon freeing them, but halfway through the ship is set upon by pirates with noble ideals who at first mistake Lotor for one of the crew (he's too well-fed, too clean, and without shackles besides) but the trafficking victims speak on his behalf, and so he's spared the fate of the slavers and instead invited to join the crew of the infamous Captain Allura: Silver-Haired She-Devil of the Seven Seas.

She and her crew take to him quickly enough, but there's one among their number—the mysterious and brooding barrelman who spends all his time watching from on-high—who just does not buy Lotor's story of being a simple stowaway who was in the wrong place at the wrong time...

#((a barrelman is the person stationed in the crow's nest—it feeds into Keith's reputation of being the ''loner'' of the group)) #it also gives me an excuse to write him swooping down the rigging with his knife between his teeth #i am a simple woman of simple wants #sa screams back #other aus #keith kogane #prince lotor #keitor #another one for the list lads

[baek-at-it-again95]

Walk The Plank (K.HJ x fem reader)

Chapter 1: The Man in the Black Fedora

You had grown up hearing tales about the infamous pirate crew ATEEZ—the fearless, power-hungry men that roamed the seas in search of the most valuable treasures they could lay their hands on. You almost didn't believe the stories your mother had told you as a child...not until you wound up on their ship.

Warnings: Mentions of blood, weapons, and violence

A/N: Hello everyone! I am so excited to post another story! I have most of it written, but I will be posting a little at a time so I can edit. I just really wanted to get something posted before my school starts again! <3 Thank you for reading :) ALSO: though this says that it is hongjoong x reader, it is more of an ateez x reader fic until later on ;) each chapter will be titled after the specific member’s pcs from the zero: fever part 1 album.

Chapter 1: The Man in the Black Fedora

Your favorite activity is sitting in the crow's nest before the crew rises for the day. You inhale a deep breath of the sea breeze that pushes back your hair and tickles your neck. The salty scent isn't as bothersome as it was when you first started sailing. In fact, you might consider saying that you find it quite pleasant.

You have been at sea for about two weeks, seeking the Cromer. It is said to possess magic that exists beyond time and space. Your father had dreamed of getting his hands on such a powerful magic artifact, doing years of extensive research and trips to obtain it. This was the first time he had agreed to let you go on a voyage without him, as he had politics to deal with in your hometown—something you have never been fond of. 

"Good morning, miss Y/N," says the barrelman, halfway up the ladder that leads to where you're perched. 

"Good morning. Tell me, have we any good books?" you ask.

"I'm afraid you have read all of the fictional literature we have. The only option left for you would be to read more into the research of magical artifacts...which I am sure you are bored of."

"Oh, I could never be bored of such things. I shall take a look." You bid your farewell and carefully climb down the ladder. Growing up, you had done your fair share of reading your father's research. How could one not be curious of a concept such as magic? You weave your way around the now awoken crew, making it as far as the door of the captain's cabin before a shout resonates from the crow's nest. 

"PIRATES!" The barrelman cries, pointing beyond the horizon.

Men immediately scurry to set up defenses, taking position at canons and masts. You assume action yourself, running up to an unoccupied canon. Chaos erupts around you as the crew shouts and awaits the captain's orders.

"Miss, what are you doing? We have to get you below deck!" The frantic sailing master grabs your arm, pulling you towards a hatch.

"I have to help—"

"Miss, please take cover. I cannot forgive myself lest anything unfortunate happen to you. Your father instructed us to take the most precautionary measures to keep you from harm." The man pleads, the desperation in his eyes growing as you think. You nod and he wastes no time escorting you below deck. Just before you step down, you catch a glimpse of the invaders sailing towards you. The sight makes you sick to your stomach—a flag at the bowsprit with the phases of the moon thrashes in the wind. 

"But I—"

"Just stay quiet, Miss. If something happens, take an escape boat." The sailing master hands you a compass and disappears to the deck above. You hide under a table in the crew's quarters, knees tucked to your chest for what seems like an eternity.

Several gun shots ring from above deck.

Then several more. 

Swords clash together, footsteps boom, men shout. Your heart races as you await any sign of safety to escape. If that flag was what you think it was—a flag of legend, of fear, of them...your chances of surviving are not likely. And then the footsteps travel below deck. The floorboards creak painfully and you shut your eyes, breath hitching. You would have thought that they would go to the captain's quarters to raid the research, but maybe they're here to raid other supplies.

Thud. A footstep sounds in your direction. Thud. Thud. You don't time to act before a large hand reaches and pulls you straight up out of your hiding spot. 

"It be a maiden!" The man shouts. 

"Unhand me you filthy pirate!" you yell, squirming in his grasp.

"Aye, Yunho, that's some good loot." Another man with dark hair snickers. Struggling against your captor's grip does nothing as the second man comes over and binds your wrists behind your back with rope. You silently think of your escape options, avoiding eye contact with the two men that now have a grip on either of your arms. They drag you up to the deck where the battle continues on. 

The crew remains engaged in combat and hardly notice as the man called Yunho and his giggly companion pull you to a wooden plank between the ships. 

"Well, Miss, after you." Yunho bows, gesturing towards the board. The second man giggles.

"Walk!" He laughs. You consider your options. You could attempt to defy them, risking your life. You could jump overboard...which would avoid dying at the hands of them, but...you really do not wish to drown. Or you can submit for now and wait to possibly escape with your life. "Are ya hard of hearing, little miss? I said walk." The shorter man with the dark hair nudges you and you stumble forward, legs wobbly as you approach the wooden plank.

Do not look down...do not look down...

Step by step, you cross the small space between the two ships, only stopping to breathe once your feet touch the new deck. There is barely any time to collect yourself before the two men take hold of your arms again and head for the captain's quarters. Though you have decided to board their ship, you will not be letting them think they've gotten away with it so easily. You kick and struggle, making it harder for Yunho and his mate to manhandle you.

"We brought you some treasure, Captain," Yunho says, gripping your arm tighter as they bring you inside.

"A feisty one." The other man snickers. You wince as they push you onto your knees, your wrists still bound and unable to catch your weight.

"Watch yourself Wooyoung, you'll hurt her," the man you assume to be the captain warns. So that's his name.

You keep your eyes trained on the scuffed floor in front of you, not wanting to meet the gaze of the captain you have heard brutal tales of. Tying people to masts for mutiny, burning towns after looting, feeding people to sharks...those were the tales of caution your father would tell you. Your mother, on the other hand, told you of brave adventurers, working endlessly to achieve what they had set their sights on. Misunderstood, driven, and admirable. Had she been talking about the same crew? You hope with all your heart that your mother was right. 

"You are dismissed," the captain says. He waits silently as Yunho and Wooyoung take their leave. Once the door shuts, you hear his footsteps circle around his desk. His heavy black boots adorned with buckles enter your peripheral and stop right in front of you. "Do you have a name, Miss?" His voice is light, yet intimidating. Judging by his proper speech, you come to the conclusion that he must be well educated—not raised a pirate.

"Why is my name of concern to you?" you ask through gritted teeth, keeping your eyes to the floor.

"Well, you see, I was hoping you would be able to tell me why you were aboard such a corrupt ship."

"Corrupt? That is nonsense." 

"Nonsense?" The captain repeats, amusement evident in his voice. "You were willingly aboard?" He chuckles.

"Why, of course. We are searching for something very valuable to my father."

"Ah, the Cromer?" he asks. You debate whether or not you should tell the truth, but you ultimately decide he will find out sooner or later after raiding your ship.

"Yes, the Cromer."

"You must be a L/N, I presume." You whip your head to look up at him, taken by surprise. As you meet his gaze, you almost forget what you are going to say. The man in front of you is breathtaking—not at all how you had imagined the scary and insufferable man to be. His messy brown hair is fashioned in a mullet, his body covered with a beautiful fur coat. His sharp features and pale skin are difficult to tear your eyes away from. An eye patch covers his left eye and a hook takes the place of his left hand.

"How do you know of me?" you demand.

"Your father has done a great deal of reaching to obtain what he desires...and I cannot say he is a fair man."

"My father? Corrupt?" You scoff. "How dare you?"

"'Tis no tale that we have crossed paths." His expression becomes grim as he recalls. "He stole my map."

You process his accusation, wondering if you can even take his word. How can you trust an infamous pirate making such ludicrous claims about your father? Is your father really an unjust man or is the man in front of you? "That has nothing to do with me," you state. 

"Oh, but it does. Coming from a well-off family, I am sure your parents had you read their studies. You must have knowledge that is valuable to us. If you help us, I will spare the rest of your crew." He takes a hold of your chin with his fingers, some of which are adorned with colored polish. You stand up slowly and he lets go as you come level with his gaze. 

"You promise?" you ask. What has gotten into you? Making a deal? With pirates? This is mad...but you simply cannot bare for any more harm to be done. 

 "I swear on my crew," he answers, his one eye boring into you.

"Alright...I accept. However, you will not infringe my safety as you take me along on your voyage."

"I can do that," the captain replies. He swiftly turns and exits the door with his coat flowing at his feet. You can hear orders being shouted outside, followed by dozens of footsteps. You shuffle over to the captain's desk in fear of someone new discovering you alone. 

As you hear multiple people approaching, your heart rate speeds up and your breath gets caught in your throat. Suddenly, a man kicks open the door, standing tall in front of about seven others with his bloodied cutlass. Three of the faces around him are those of the men you had previously encountered.

"Alright wench, let's lay down a few rules for you."

>> chapter 2

#hongjoong x reader #ateez au #ateez x reader #ateez #ateez hongjoong #park seonghwa #song mingi #kim hongjoong #kang yeosang #jung yunho #jung wooyoung #choi san #choi jongho

[the-regal-warrior]

The Captain’s Daughter: Part One

I’m back! Sorry it’s been so long since I’ve posted anything, but the writing gears in my brain stalled for a while. But they’re working once more and I’m back with a brand new story inspired by my newfound love of sea shanties.

Note: the song mentioned in here is Haul Away by Nathan Evans.

Summary: Elide and Lorcan living life as part of the best pirate crew.

Warnings: None.

.

The sea was unusually calm that night. Having spent as many years at sea as she had, Marion wasn’t used to such eerie stillness. She’d led her crew through more storms than she could remember, and found the motion of the waves soothing. 

On nights when it was calm and the ship didn’t rock, sleep wasn’t easy to find. After tossing and turning for a few hours, her husband and first mate snoring away beside her, Marion had left the warmth of her bed and Cal’s arms for a walk around the deck in the chilly ocean air, deciding that was just what she needed. 

Her crew always said that she had a bond with her ship, The Wyvern, and laying her hands on the mast while the night swirled around her had always brought her peace.

She’d made for the wheel, checking in with her helmsman and the course of her ship. Nox was a young man, not much older than her daughter, but he was a damn good crewman, and she trusted him implicitly to guide them all safely while they slept. But a good captain knew that no one job was beneath them, and Marion Lochan was a damn good captain.

“All good, Nox?” she greeted, trailing her fingers over the rail as she climbed the steps to reach the man.

“Yes, Captain.” He patted the wheel with a certain fondness every member of her crew possessed. “She’s a steady girl and we’ve got nothing but clear skies ahead.”

Nodding, she circled the rear mast, one hand braced on the wood as she moved. The faint sound of someone singing reached her ears, barely audible over the breeze that had kicked up, but it was lost as Nox spoke once more.

“Everything okay, Captain?” Keeping his face tilted toward the horizon, he turned to her in concern. “Worried about our last run-in with the Navy?”

Marion chuckled, the sound escaping her before she could stop it. “The Navy is the least of my concerns.”

Many would have found her statement egotistical and a harbinger of certain trouble, but Marion had a secret most other pirate captains didn’t share. Her closest friend and former crewmate was none other than Evalin Ashryver, the wife of Rhoe Galathynius, Admiral of the Terrasen Navy. Not to mention that Evalin’s daughter, Aelin, and nephew, Aedion, had both served briefly on the ship as well. The latter had become Captain in the Navy, serving under Rhoe and helping Marion and Cal continue their reign as pirate lords.

Descending the steps, she caught the tail-end of Nox’s smirk at her statement, and she shook her head in laughter once more. “Fair wind, Nox,” she said. 

Reaching the main mast, she offered a wave up to Kaltain, her barrelman and the other person she trusted with the safe guidance of her ship through the night. The woman was a damn good lookout, and her affinity for climbing the ropes faster than anyone she’d ever seen only added to her value. 

The woman waved back before offering a complicated set of hand signals in the direction of the wheel, and it was only moments before Marion heard Nox’s laughter rumbling behind her. The two of them had developed their own form of signs and signals so they could communicate without speaking. 

Placing her hands on the solid bulk of the main maist, Marion breathed deeply, her eyes slipping closed and the smell of salt wrapping around her like a familiar embrace. The life of a pirate hadn’t always been easy, but she’d never wanted to trade it for anything else. She knew she’d miss nights at sea too much to ever give it up.

Marion wasn’t sure how long she stood there before she became aware of two things: the singing had become audible once more, and her husband had found her, if the arms wrapped around her waist were anything to go by.

“What brought you out of bed, husband?” she murmured, leaning against his chest without taking her hands off the mast.

Ghosting his lips over the very top of her forehead, Cal just sighed softly. “You know how hard I find it to sleep without you, Captain. I’ve been up since you left our bed, but I know how you cherish your time with your ship.”

“You,” she told him, finally turning in his embrace, “are a good first mate and an even better man.” Marion paused as the singing grew louder, finally allowing her to place the tune as Haul Away. “Who is that, I wonder?”

Her husband smiled down at her. “Just wait, you’re going to love it.” Taking her hand, he pulled her toward the bow. “Come with me.”

Walking slowly so as not to disturb the two people she could just make out sitting on the forecastle deck, Cal pulled her into the shadows at the bottom of the steps, motioning for her to keep quiet. Marion peered up onto the deck, smiling when she realized what exactly she was seeing. 

Lorcan, one of her gunners - not that her style of piracy had much use for heavy artillery - and her newly appointed quartermaster, was seated against the railing. Resting between his legs with their fingers intertwined was none other than Elide, Marion and Cal’s daughter. The two of them had been together in secret for several months, only a select few people on the ship - Marion, Cal, Nox, and Kaltain - having been made aware out of a desire for privacy in the early stages of their relationship.

The dark-haired man was singing softly in her ear, the sound only carrying because of the breeze, and Marion felt her heart swell at the obvious love she could see growing between the two of them. 

Wrapping her fingers around her husband’s wrist, she pulled Cal back toward their quarters. “Let’s leave them be, my love,” she murmured, catching the smile on his face. He’d told her once that he couldn’t picture anyone better suited for their daughter, and she wholeheartedly agreed. 

As they slipped through the door and down the stairs to their room, Lorcan’s voice swirled around them before being carried off to sea on the breeze.

.

Tags: @highqueenofelfhame @dashedwithromance @musicmaam @snelbz @theladyofdeath @tangledraysofsunshine @keep-a-bucket-full-of-stars @lordof-bloodshed @nalgenewhore @photofeesh @belamoonbeam @mis-lil-red @julemmaes @thesirenwashere @tswaney17 @b00kworm @maastrash @empress-ofbloodshed @celestialams @mynewdreamwasyou @maybekindasortaace @hizqueen4life @firestarsandseneschals @bielectra @bamchickawowow @ireallyshouldsleeprn @thegoddessofyou @somenerdydancer @wisteriiagrow @perseusannabeth @flamingveritas @treasurethelittlethings @story-scribbler @infernoqueen19 @live-the-fangirl-life @vanzetanze @the-hospitality-of-knives @rowanaelinn @mybloodrunsblue @sv0430 @swankii-art-teacher @pagemasters @marigold-morelli @itmeansofthesea

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#the captain's daughter #tcd #lorcan salvaterre #elide lochan #elorcan #cal lochan #marion lochan #nox owen #kaltain #throne of glass #tog #alyssa writes

[mythicalmisery]

Pirate AU: GhostxSoap

The salty sea air whipped through Captain Simon Riley's golden-blond hair as he stood at the helm of his ship, The Ghost. A notorious pirate in the treacherous waters of the Caribbean, Captain Riley was a man of both fierce reputation and unparalleled cunning. His ship, sleek and black as the night, with its tattered sails was as elusive and enigmatic as its captain. Simon's name was whispered in both fear and admiration throughout the maritime world, for he was a man who navigated the treacherous waters with uncanny precision and ruthlessness. His eyes were as sharp as the cutlass at his side, always scanning the horizon for his next victims.

For years, Captain Riley had eluded capture by the Royal Navy, leading his crew to countless victories time and time again. His voice carried the weight of authority and his command was unwavering, his crew entrusting him with their life and vice versa. But every legend has its foil, and for Captain Riley, that came in the form of a single man - Lieutenant John MacTavish.

MacTavish, a young and dashing officer of the Royal Navy, was as stubborn as he was brave. The dedicated Scot had become a thorn in Captain Riley's side, relentlessly pursuing him across the high seas. With his strong jaw and piercing blue eyes, MacTavish was a symbol of authority and discipline, the antithesis of everything Captain Riley stood for. Their rivalry had become the stuff of legend, whispered in taverns and sung about in shanties.

It was on that night, as storm clouds gathered on the horizon, fate intervened. The skies raged with thunder and lightning and waves the size of mountains crashed against the hulls of ships. Amid the chaos and shouts from the crew, the barrelman spotted a distant shipwreck, its masts splintered and sails torn to shreds. A cruel smile played on Captain Riley's lips as he recognized the insignia of the Royal Navy on the broken vessel— the ship was Lieutenant MacTavish’s.

The storm had done its work well, Captain Riley and his second-in-command, Roach, carefully boarded the stricken ship. Their eyes scanned the debris-strewn deck, and there, amidst the splintered wood and broken rigging, they found a solitary figure clinging to a piece of driftwood. It was a man, barely conscious and clad in tattered British naval attire, with a wild mop of brown hair plastered to his forehead that he had viewed through an eyeglass countless times.

Simon's lips curled into a wry smile as he kneeled next to the stranded man. "Well, well, what do we have here?" he purred, his voice a low timbre that caused the officer to shiver.

The man's weak gaze met Simon’s taking in the black silhouette before him, a mixture of exhaustion and defiance in his eyes. “Fawken hell" he mumbled before laying his head back down.

Simon huffed in amusement as he brushed a strand of hair from the man's forehead with his knuckle. The slight flinch and whimper from the man pulled on something inside him which he decided would be best to ignore for now. “Ah, the poor Scot caught in a rather shite predicament. How fortunate for you that fate has brought us together."

John's eyes narrowed as he glanced back up at the man he loathed. Simon Riley, a man with eyes as cold as the ocean depths he roamed. The man he spent most of his naval career hunting down was a mere six inches away from him and he could barely lift his head. He glared at Simon, his lips pressed into a thin line.

“Fawk you and yer bloody fate” he managed to grit out before darkness finally won, his vision blurring and eyelids fluttering shut. The last thing his gaze laid upon were those dark brown eyes peeking over a black bandana he had come to know even in his dreams. Haunting him.

Despite his petty thirst for revenge and desire to be rid of the nuisance that the Royal Navy had become, Captain Riley couldn't bring himself to leave his long-standing rival to die. He ordered his men to pull MacTavish from the wreckage and onto The Ghost. If his crew disagreed with his orders to bring the officer to his cabin straight away instead of a holding cell below deck, they had the sense not to comment on it.

Simon would watch as the officer slept, the only time he had ever seen the young man at peace. How his brow would slightly furrow as he twitched and shuffled around in the large bed. His bed. The pirate tended to his wounds personally on that first night, the candlelight had danced over the Scot's damp skin engulfing him in the flame's glow. Even with the shivers that wracked his body from the unforgiving storm, the man's skin was scorching to the touch. Simon cursed himself every time his hand lingered a second too long as he dabbed a wet cloth over the unconscious man's flesh. The mere brush of contact and the resulting sensation had become addicting when normally he would sooner flay his own skin at another’s touch.

As days turned into nights, MacTavish slowly regained consciousness. Captain Riley watched from the shadows with a mixture of curiosity and amusement as the Scot gathered his bearings. He was curious which instinct would take over first, fight or flight. When MacTavish's eyes finally flickered open he scanned the unknown space, eyes flicking back to the dark silhouette of the stranger sitting across from him. Only the moonlight bleeding through the windows behind him allowed him to notice the man.

"What... Where am I?" MacTavish's voice was weak and rough, his gaze still hazy from his ordeal.

Captain Riley leaned forward in his wooden chair that was situated in the corner of the room across from the bed, resting his elbows on his knees. His face was still hidden by the shadows of the room. "You're aboard The Ghost,” he replied."Seems the sea had a disagreement with your ship, ” his tone laced with a hint of amusement.

MacTavish's eyes widened in recognition and a spark of anger ignited within him. “You."

Captain Riley chuckled softly, his voice like a siren's song. "Yes, me. Surprised to see me, Lieutenant?”

MacTavish could practically hear the smirk plastered on the bastard's face. His glare was fierce, but his strength was not yet fully returned and he knew when a battle was pointless. "What do you want, Riley?” He pushed out through gritted teeth.

"Oh, nothing much," Captain Riley mused, leaning back against the chair. "Just to revel in the irony of fate, perhaps.”

“Oh, for fawks sake just kill me now” the officer huffed out as he fell back onto the bed defeated.

“Ah, Lieutenant, where's your sense of adventure? Your devotion to king and country has only landed you in the company of pirates, surely that’s not worse than death" Simon quipped, his eyes dancing with mischief.

John's fists clenched as he glared at the ceiling. "I'd sooner see you hang than entertain any such thoughts.”

“We shall see won’t we?” He stated with a smirk.

— — — —

Days turned into weeks as The Ghost continued its piratical pursuits, its crew navigating the unpredictable currents of the sea with practiced ease. The crew of The Ghost often eyed him warily while he walked the deck, ready to restrain him should he pose a threat. Although he wanted to do nothing more than sink a blade into their dreaded Captain, he wasn’t suicidal. He knew the only reason he was still breathing was because of whatever fascination Riley had for him. A cat toying with a mouse, nothing more.

During that time, John MacTavish found himself not only a prisoner but also an unwilling participant in Simon's games. An unexpected dynamic began to develop between the two enemies. Captain Riley found himself enjoying MacTavish's fiery spirit and quick wit. He teased him mercilessly, delighting in the way MacTavish's cheeks flushed with frustration. The lieutenant, in turn, responded with sharp retorts that surprised even himself. Always looking away nervously after snapping at the man, worried he crossed the line. How amusing.

Their banter gradually evolved into something more, something neither man could quite put a name to. Captain Riley found himself captivated by MacTavish's resilience and determination. He admired the way the lieutenant never gave in, even when faced with the direst of circumstances. MacTavish, on the other hand, discovered that there was more to Captain Riley than met the eye. Beneath the façade of the ruthless pirate lay a man of complexity and depth.

While looking over maps one morning MacTavish decided to test his luck. ”I won't be your captive forever, pirate.”

Simon's grin only widened, undeterred by the Scot's fiery disposition. "Oh, I do hope you're right, my dear lieutenant. A spirited prisoner is much more entertaining than a compliant one.”

Roach, observing the exchange from a distance, raised an eyebrow at his Captains rather flirtatious banter. He had seen his captain engage in numerous skirmishes and negotiations, but this was a unique dynamic. Simon's captives were usually subdued, if not outright fearful. Lieutenant MacTavish, on the other hand, seemed to be engaging in a battle of wits with Simon.

That same evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon in a blaze of fiery orange and pink, Captain Riley found himself alone with MacTavish on the deck. The rest of the crew finished up their chores for the day, leaving them relatively alone. The air was heavy with unspoken words, and the tension between them was palpable. John couldn’t stand the anxiousness creeping up his spine at the silence.

"Tell me, Lieutenant," Simon mused as he leaned on the ship's railing, the setting sun casting golden ribbons across the water's surface before them. "Have you ever truly lived, or have you always been bound by the rigid constraints of the Royal Navy?”

John's gaze remained fixed on the horizon. "I've lived honorably and served my country with distinction. That's more than I can say for a pirate like you.”

Simon's laughter danced on the wind. "Ah, but what a dull existence that must be. There's a world of adventure beyond those navy walls, Johnny. A world that embraces freedom, danger, and the thrill of the unknown. One where you don’t have to wipe another man’s ass because of a fuckin rank.” The officer turned his face away from the Captain, a poor attempt at hiding the creeping blush that dusted his face at the nickname.

“It’s not that simple ya bawbag, some people have a lick of sense and don’t dream of becoming a bloody pirate” he scoffed back.

Simon hummed as he took in his words. Straightening himself as he turned to walk away before leaning down and speaking right beside the Scot's ear, the breath that tickled his skin caused the other to shiver. “You sure about that? Cause I tend to recall you giving up on leaving pretty quickly Lieutenant.” He sauntered away leaving John to seep in his words.

As the days turned to weeks and the weeks to months, MacTavish's rigid stance softened, and he found himself engaging in the banter, the sharp exchanges between him and Riley becoming a strange form of entertainment. John found himself reluctantly drawn into Simon's orbit, intrigued by the pirate's commanding spirit and undeniable charisma. Simon, in turn, took delight in unraveling the layers of conditioned formality that encased the Scottish lieutenant, revealing the reckless man beneath. Both men watched while the other was distracted, longing looks expressing what they were too stubborn to acknowledge.

Roach, the ever-watchful confidant, observed the transformation with a knowing smile. He had seen Simon's antics before, but this was different. There was a genuine connection forming between the two men, something that transcended their roles as pirate and prisoner. Simon would just roll his eyes at the pointed looks he sent his captain's way, ever in denial.

One night, as they shared a bottle of rum under the starlit sky, John leaned back against the ship's mast. "You're a riddle, Simon Riley. A man who defies categorization."

Simon's eyes gleamed as he reclined beside John, their shoulders brushing. That same jolting spark from that first night returning.

“And you, John MacTavish, are a contradiction. A fierce officer who secretly relishes the thrill of the open sea.”

John's lips curved into a reluctant smile. "You may be onto something, Riley.”

“Ya know, it’s typical courtesy to refer to the head of the ship as Captain.”

“Over my dead body,” John scoffed as he snatched the bottle out of the other's hand.

"I must admit, Lieutenant, I find myself... enjoying our little exchanges," Captain Riley admitted, his voice unusually soft.

MacTavish's gaze met his, his expression a mixture of surprise and uncertainty. "Is that so?”

Captain Riley nodded, his eyes never leaving MacTavish's. “Aye Johnny, there's a fire in you, a determination that I can't help but admire.”

MacTavish's lips quirked up slightly as his cheeks and ears burned, his guard momentarily lowered. "You have a strange way of showing admiration, Captain.”

Simon leaned closer, the distance between them narrowing. "Perhaps. But there's more to us than meets the eye, Lieutenant. We're both prisoners of circumstance, driven by forces beyond our control… there’s a thin line between hate and desire.”

Their eyes locked, and in that moment, the walls that had long separated them began to crumble. The rivalry that had defined their interactions seemed suddenly insignificant, replaced by an unspoken understanding. Simon reached out, his fingers brushing against MacTavish's cheek in a surprisingly tender gesture.

John’s breath caught, his heart pounding in his chest. "What are you doing?”

Simon reached up and removed his bandana in a show of trust that the other man did not take likely. His smile was gentle, his gaze unwavering. "Something I never thought I'd do—finding common ground.”

Their lips met in a clash of desires that had simmered beneath the surface for far too long. The sea around them seemed to hold its breath as if even the waves dared not disrupt the moment. It was a kiss born of enmity and fueled by something deeper, something that neither man had anticipated.

As their lips parted, the realization of what had transpired hit them like a storm surge. Mactavish's gaze was a mixture of warring defiance and vulnerability, his breath ragged. Riley's expression mirrored the tumultuous sea, a blend of surprise and a hint of something softer, buried beneath layers of roughness. “I don’t suppose I can blame that on the rum cannae?” He nervously quipped.

“Not a fawken chance ya bastard,” John said as he grabbed the man's face and drew him back into another kiss, tasting the burning alcohol on the other's tongue.

The following days were marked by stolen glances and lingering touches. Their interactions growing increasingly intimate, their verbal sparring taking on a flirtatious edge that neither could deny. The crew watched in bewildered fascination as their fierce captain and the formidable naval officer navigated this uncharted territory, well aware that the once-hostile lieutenant had become an integral part of their lives. Roach, in particular, found himself in a state of perpetual disbelief, his gruff exterior barely concealing his amusement. Never one to turn down the chance to tell his Captain “I told you so”.

As they sailed into the horizon, the sun setting behind them, Captain Riley and MacTavish stood side by side at the helm of The Ghost. Their past grievances had been set aside, replaced by a newfound respect and a bond that transcended the lines of loyalty. In the vast expanse of the open sea, they were no longer just pirate and navy officer—they were two souls entwined by fate, sailing toward a future that held endless possibilities. And so, the legend of Simon Riley, the British pirate Captain, and John MacTavish, the Scottish naval officer grew, not as bitter rivals, but as kindred spirits who had discovered, in the midst of chaos, that even the deepest of divisions could be bridged by the unlikeliest of connections.

#ghostxsoap #ghostsoap #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #pirate au #enemies to lovers #they are in love your honor #my writing

[aristocratic-otter]

I'm back from my trip back east and getting in the saddle again! Thank you to the lovely and talented group of folks who tagged me all week: @nausikaaa, @blackberrysummerblog, @artsyunderstudy, @prettygoododds, @whatevertheweather, @palimpsessed, @hushed-chorus, @facewithoutheart, @larkral, @aroace-genderfluid-sheep, @nightimedreamersghost. I've greatly enjoyed belatedly reading your words today!

From: Saving Simon Snow

Where was this hunger, this need, hiding, all those years I lived side-by-side with him? Where was the desire to wrap my skin around both of us, imbed him in my flesh and bones? How could I have been so blind to what he is to me? Baz didn’t help, I suppose, with the way he’s always hated me. But even that seems unreal now. Does he hate me?

From: an Age of Sail AU

The wind that whips and stings my face makes the barrelman’s cry of “Storm rising off the for’ard bow!” unnecessary. I can see the clouds rapidly boiling up in the east. A storm. A bad one. 

As if our lives depended on it (because they do, they definitely do), we all jump into action. Davy hurries off to douse the fires in the galley (it’s a bear to relight them, but open flame is deadly in hurricane conditions) and I run to help lower and tie down the sails.

From Snow Fox

We met clandestinely as often as Simon could get away, and while we were together, we spoke of our families and friends, and odd happenings in the world, but not about the war. Never about the war. 

But then Charleston was captured by the British. 

Tory families like mine were well-treated, but anyone with a documented history of fighting against the crown was imprisoned under the threat of hanging. Many of the common soldiers were eventually let go, under the reasoning that they were just following orders. But the officers were kept and sentenced to death. 

That’s when Simon Snow Salisbury became the Snow Fox. 

From: Raising Dragons

Is it wrong to find Simon even sexier when he’s struggling?

Maybe it was wrong to assign Ebb and Nat to Simon for swimming lessons…but Simon’s boundless energy is much better suited to keeping those two out of trouble. Not that I’m bad at it. But I know Simon is insecure about his parenting skills, so I like to ask him to do things that he’ll be competent at. 

That may have backfired today. But it’s hilarious, so I’m not too bothered. 

From a mystery gift (not a mystery for much longer!):

“Human females like seeing a woman’s underclothing on the outside, do they not?” Niamh asks. She’s staring at me. Her eyes are dark and dilated, and her skin glistens with sweat. All of her skin. Of which I can see far too much. 

“I would not know, [redacted]. I am not interested in seeing human women without their clothing."

From Westward Son

For the first time since the Snake River, I see the ghost of a smile on Simon’s face. “What if,” he says softly, “I don’t want alone time? What if I want you–to be with you, I mean?”

I grin broadly. “That, Simon, can be easily arranged.” Then, finally sensing that now might be the right time for it, I spread my arms wide, offering myself to him. 

His eyes widen, and the ghost of a smile becomes corporeal, and then he’s in my arms, letting a last few tears wet my shirt. “I thought I might never see you again,” he admits wetly. 

“I’m grateful you were wrong,” I whisper back, my voice husky with emotion.

From my COBB which has a name and no I'm not telling you 😉

"Is there something you’d like to tell me, Mr. Snow?” She gives me a pointed look, and I wilt under it. 

“You may as well tell her, Simon,” Penny says. “It’s not like things could get any worse.”

I turn to glare at her. I can think of plenty of ways things could get worse. Miss Possibelf could tell me that these are definitely [redacted], and that would mean…Baz and I…it would mean…too much.

From To Heal a Broken Heart

 ‘Basilton, you’ve left me no choice. You are too deeply involved in Mr. Snow’s life to be unbiased in his care. I am transferring his patient files over to Dr. Davies. You may no longer prescribe for him or decide treatment. And, you are on probation. Do not step one more foot out of line, Dr. Pitch, or I will have to relieve you of duty.”

(Yes, that's 8 fucking WIPs) (I've also just started a Simon's Birthday Exchange fic, but there's barely even 6 sentences written, so hopefully I'll have something to share next week!)

Tagging (for Wednesday or just a consensual hug): @frjsti, @angelsfalling16, @bazzybelle, @bookish-bogwitch, @bloodiedpixie, @carryonsimoncarryonbaz, @dragoneggos, @erzbethluna, @excalisbury, @fight-surrender, @fatalfangirl, @giishu, @ionlydrinkhotwater, @ileadacharmedlife, @ivelovedhimthroughworse, @j-nipper-95, @jasonfunderberkerthefrogexists, @krisrix, @letraspal, @messofthejess, @moments-au-crayon22, @moodandmist, @mostlymaudlin, @onepintobean, @chen-chen-chen-again-chen, @prettylightsbigcity, @raenestee, @cutestkilla, @thehoneyedhufflepuff, @theearlgreymage, @twinkle-twinkle-up-above, @tea-brigade, @technetiumai, @upuntil6am, @whogaveyoupermission, @yu-miou, @yellobb-old, @yeonjunenby, @you-remind-me-of-the-babe

[writernopal]

One Song For Every OC

Tagged by @mysticstarlightduck see their post here!

Rules: Assign a song that fits the vibe of your OC.

Tagging (gently): @cherrybombfangirlwrites @sugar-phoenix @thelivingdeceased @theroseempress @snehithiye @dragonedged-if @serotoninshift @writinglittlebeasts

Going to be doing this for a few minor characters from the AASOAF series. The main cast's post can be found here!

Anise (Fay's best friend. Professional sugar baby 💅 but braver and smarter than she looks)

Kirik (Barrelman of the Angel's Lyre and Dancer of Balera master martial artist. Forever remembering the man he loved 😿)

Lady Fisla (Axtapor's grandma. The elegant teller of truths, longing for the world and a true companion in it)

Hartim (Second of Axtapor's lackeys. Ex-War Dancer fancy name for those who perform ritual sacrifices. A Snakeman who follows orders and also eats people sometimes. Also he's gay.)

#tag game #one song for every oc tag #writeblr tag games #aasoaf #anise #kirik #lady fisla #hartim

[genericnam]

After spending way too long working on these on and off, I have finally finished some OC character drawings. These characters are pretty overpowered, but in my defense, they were actual parts of a DnD campaign I was in that reached level 20, so that's why they're so strong, lol. (Also, forgive my shit photo-taking skills, the only lighting I have is the lightbulb on my ceiling)

First up is Huskoshe! Huskoshe is a cunning, dealmaking devil, and a Warlock who follows the word of a god of Life and the Sea. Huskoshe spent the first of his many centuries alive traversing the ocean alone, where he met his god and became a Warlock, obtaining powerful magic.

Soon after, he was recruited to a pirate crew known as the Sea King's Ships as the barrelman (lookout), though he was much more popular among the crew for his near perfect track record on successful missions. Huskoshe spent many centuries aboard the Sea King's Ships, becoming one of the senior members of the crew.

When a dangerous religious cult began to spread across the lands, Huskoshe, his party members; Kin and Kalotoff (not my characters, so I haven't drawn them yet), along with the rest of the Sea King's Ships, led the war that eventually was the downfall of said cult.

As he went, Huskoshe obtained further and further power, amassing a personal army of devils he obtained through soul contracts and deals. Huskoshe's army was small in numbers, but its power was vast due to one special distinction: each person who joined his army did so willingly. There was no treachery or betrayal, as everyone from his strongest generals to the weakest Imps were loyal warriors who Huskoshe knew personally, and shared the glory of victory with.

At the end of his journey, Huskoshe made a proposition to the God of Death—Asmodeus—for a spot on his court. After recovering three ancient artifacts of Asmodeus', Huskoshe was allowed to battle Mephistopheles—the Archduke of the 8th layer of Hell—to the death in combat for the title of Archduke.

Huskoshe won, and now he rules the 8th layer, turning it into a land of water and ice, populated by the only Archduke in the history of Hell to be beloved by their minions (who didn't use mind control, at least).

Of course, he wouldn't have made it nearly as far if it weren't for his first ever minions.

Rhirale the Blade is a towering Pit Fiend who uses the power of ice to cut through his foes. His two weapons, Frozen Blood (right) and The Buckler of Ice (left) were forged from his own life force. Even upon death, he doesn't go down without a fight, exploding into thousands of sharp ice crystals harder than diamonds.

Rhirale was not always this powerful however. Once, he was a runt of an imp, who was born alongside his sister, Zankas. Rhirale's left wing is deformed, being smaller than the other, and it caused him much trouble. However, the imp possessed great ambition and a warrior's pride. Rhirale trained, becoming more powerful than any other Imp on his layer, and being promoted up in his ranks.

This went on for many years, until Rhirale had become an Ice Devil, and become satisfied with his physical power, choosing to pursue the power of wealth through working under a Dragon on the material plane.

He and his sister (we'll get to her) worked under the dragon Baryon, until the Sea King's Ships arrived. For you see, Baryon was a leading power within the cult they were battling against, and the pirates had come for his head.

Huskoshe saw the power and potential of the devils hired by Baryon to block their way, and offered them a deal. Each and every devil in the room could join his side and fight for glory and wealth beyond their wildest dreams, or they could choose to flee, and be spared. Some devils fled, but many of them joined Huskoshe, becoming his first minions.

When Rhirale made the deal with Huskoshe, something happened. Fate seemed to recognize the Pride that Rhirale possessed, and as he had begun serving under the future lord of Pride, it saw fit to give him his final promotion. Rhirale the Blade was reborn as one of the highest ranks of devil one can acheive, only below becoming a Duke of Hell: A Pit Feind.

Rhirale became one of Huskoshe's two generals, uzing his power and sheer will to command respect and charge his way to victory.

I did mention Rhirale's sister, no? Well, this is Zankas Septum, the second general of Huskoshe's army, and Rhirale's sister.

Like her brother, Zankas was born a runty Imp. She too, had a wing that was too small, being her right. Zankas held as much pride as her brother, battling with speed rather than brute power.

Zankas weilds the powers of Poison, and possesses a weapon known as the Revolving Longsaber, a flaming golden blade that can polymorph into a snake-scale revolving gun.

Zankas worked her way up the ranks of the devil heirarchy as well, ending her training as a Succubus before she began work under Baryon.

When Zankas made her deal with Huskoshe, she was gifted power equal to Rhirale, becoming an Erinyes, titled Zankas Septum.

Zankas' speed is unmatched, capable of using her claws and sword at speeds faster than any mortal can react, and anyone who is able to dodge her attacks can be defeated with manipulation, as her ability to manipulate and mind control her enemies exceeds what any Succubus or Incubus would ever be capable of.

Zankas Septum and Rhirale the Blade are Huskoshe's closest allies, managing his army while he deals with fiendish politics. The three of them have plans of expanding their reach in the future, but for now they are content to be the unmatched army of the 8th layer of Hell.

#artwork #oc artwork #oc #oc art #dnd #dnd art #dnd character #dnd oc #devils #dnd devils #tw long text #long post #story #dnd story #dnd campaign #devil art

[cress-meadowforge]

"Hello, you," Cress mussed Mason's hair affectionately, vaulting herself up onto the stack of mats beside him at the edge of the training center. She preferred the height, the vantage point of being able to observe all others in the space. Like a barrelman in a crow's nest, keeping watch of the sea, looking for shore -- Cress wanted to know exactly what was happening in her domain at all times. "Join me," she beckoned, patting the space beside her. "Take a break. Catch your breath with me."

@masonxxbrick

#mason #p: mason #133 #training

[dontcallmenans]

Captain Steve, Pirate AU (Steddie)

Reposted because I had A LOT more to say.

Don't get me wrong, I love BAMF pirate king/captain Eddie and poor defenseless Steve.

But can I bring to you today the idea of pirate captain Steve Harrington 'King Steve' and his rag tag group of brigands?

THIS IS LONG, AND I'M NOT SORRY

Steve's parents no longer enjoyed a life by the sea and their "beloved" son is more than capable of running the day to day of the plantation on his own by now. So they leave back to... Wherever it is they came from, it's not important because they're gone and Steve is free.

There is no one to stop him from using his weighty inheritance to build himself a lovely seafaring vessel. One he's dreamed about since he was a boy and heard the first siren call of the sea.

His advisors beg him to rethink his decision. He knows nothing of sailing or the true realities of being out on open water. They don't even know he intends to use the ship for pirating... But Steve's mind is made up.

And while he may know very little of sailing, he knows the perfect crew to take a long to help him learn the ropes.

It wasn't just his dream he was fulfilling.

Living on remote islands in the Caribbean leaves much to be desired in ways of socialization.

There were the hoity toity types his parents wanted him to rub shoulders with. But they were dull and superficial, and most couldn't see Steve past the Harrington name.

While he loved and trusted Tommy enough to stay behind to take care of the business in his steed, he couldn't venture to have ever called them friends.

That title belonged to an unlikely array of people from the town proper that he'd grown to consider his family.

Dear Nancy, a friend since childhood, an almost betrothed, was the gateway to them all.

She and her brother were as rebellious against their birthright as Steve. At a point, the boy was still young enough for no one to question when he hung around the "rif-raf".

All of them coming together was just a natural progression over the years from there. Steve followed after Nancy one day to see the group they both kept going on about.

The tailor and shop-keeps sons. The daughters of the captain of the guard, a tanner and a local drunk. Both children, a son and a daughter, of a local banker.

He was welcomed with open arms by a group of children (and a couple of ones his own age) and never looked back.

It caused quite a stir around the upper-crust the first time Steve was seen leaving the jungle with the others, dirty and clothes torn. His parent's banned him from ever going near any of them again, but they were never around enough to actually check.

But they're gone for good.

The rest of them are grown and ready. They've spent years learning all they can by the docks, scrounging up what books they could on the subject of sailing.

As the final touches were put on the affectionately named Bad Hair Day, a crew was called to arms.

Captain Harrington had a difficult time choosing a first mate. So he chose two.

The ever reliable Robin, of course. He couldn't imagine doing this without her by his side. She mostly took over the role as bosun, her voice being the only one loud enough to carry all the way across the deck.

But there was also Will, the most steady and sound of the bunch. He was quiet, but it seemed to bring more authority to him than Robin and Steve could ever muster... even combined.

Dustin was an obvious choice for navigator. He was whip smart and absurdly clever and a master of the charts. If there was anyone Steve wanted to be forced to spend hours in close planning-proximity with, it was Dustin.

Maxine and Nancy gravitated towards taking care of the weaponry. They run drills on clear days, showing the rest of the crew how to properly throw knifes or clean their guns.

Lucas and Erica team up and spend their time in the crows nest as their barrelman (and woman), being the second most knowledgeable on the charts under Dustin. Lucas even had an additional proficiency for star charts, and Erica knew all of the stories behind the constellations.

Mike and El took eagerly to bosun mates, being the lightest and quickest up the masts.

Johnathan was just happy to be there, filling in the gaps where he was needed.

They were... Well, they're terrible pirates. Still a bunch of children playing pretend out on the open sea, really. They had the practical knowledge, but none of them had the practice.

But their chaos and wildness works out in their favor most of the time. They gain a reputation for being a touch unhinged, led by their King Steve, and no one can tell if it's all an act or not.

They raid frequently, always with the intention of making a profit and avoiding violence.

But it's always something.

An overeager crewmate taking a shot at King Steve. As long as it doesn't actually hit him, he isn't ever too bothered. Too bad for that guy, though. Steve's crew are all feral enough to start shooting back without hesitation. Gods help anyone who takes a shot at one of his kids, though.

There were several seamen out there with missing fingers after trying to take grabs at any of the girls. Most of them were curtesy of Max. Though King Steve doled out plenty himself.

One time they didn't board fast enough when Robin wanted to go up first and fell off the ladder, knocking down everyone under her in the process. It gave the captain a chance to throw the manifest overboard. They walked away with only the contents of the galley, and the first few boxes that were below deck. Robin was not allowed up ladders first anymore.

Someone (they suspect El) smuggles a cat on board after they make port for supplies. It wouldn't have been an issue, would have been a benefit even, since they were getting a rat problem below decks. But the cat had fleas. So everyone on board also got fleas. They're too busy dealing with being itchy to pursue any passing ships for over a week. Thankfully Dustin and Nancy eventually come up with some sort of noxious concoction that kills all the fleas on board. Turns everyone orange for a day, though.

There are plenty of successes, of course. They do work well as a team after all. They just really don't quite know what they're doing yet.

They don't make much in the way of money or loot for the first few months, but they're all having too much fun being free to care.

This was the life they had dreamed up together as they escaped into the jungles to hide from the lives their home had offered them. Steve built this for them, just as much as himself. They could never turn a profit, have to turn into a passenger vessel, crash and burn... doesn't matter to him. He just wants to be on the water with his family.

He never wants to go back.

*

It's been a few months at sea when they come across a rowboat with a single sun-singed inhabitant.

They've just left the closest port, within the last day or so... so they assumed he followed them from there. But he was woefully unprepared. He didn't bring water or proper sun protection, but had a stuffed bag and a disproportionate amount of food.

They know for sure he was rowing towards them when the Sinclair's noticed him. They'd called down to Steve who'd called for immediate action on turning the ship around. Still, it was a whole ship and it took awhile for them to get to the little boat.

Poor man was mostly just floating by the time they got there, slumped over in his seat and waving blearily from below.

Nancy was livid with Steve's lack of caution on immediately bringing the man on board.

"Look at him, Nance. You think a man stupid enough to follow us like this is a threat?"

There was no time to question him as Johnathon and Argyle practically had to carry him up the ladder. He immediately passed out on the deck from dehydration and exhaustion.

Nancy took pity on him then.

Steve was rubbing his decision in Nancy's face before they even had him nursed back to full health.

He had been quick to tell them that his name was Eddie, and he wanted to join their crew. He'd been hearing stories about The King and the crew of Bad Hair Day for months and had been just waiting for them to pass through.

Unfortunately, he'd missed his chance to meet them at the port. He'd been hungover, of course, but knew this was his destiny. He had to make chase.

They allowed him to watch from the sidelines as he recovered, and he watched the daily goings on with rapt attention. Where he found a lute was anyone's guess. But it was nice to have some entertainment for once.

No threat to be found.

But it was another mouth to fill, and they were still just beginners themselves. Could they really take on another crew member that was more green than they were?

The crew meeting a week later to decide his fate devolved quickly. Nancy was pretty much the only dissenting voice, the only one applying reason to the situation.

But the kids loved Eddie. Dustin and Will in particular were pulling out some serious puppy-dog eyes as Nancy repeated "no" over and over again. Even Robin, usually a hard sell, was particularly smitten with the curly-headed man.

It was Steve's choice in the end. Unfortunately for Nancy, King Steve had already been lured in by the siren-charms of the bard.

Where Steve went, Eddie followed.

When they first pulled him on board, Steve had agreed that since it was his choice, he would be the stranger's personal watch-dog on the ship. If only to get Nancy to leave him alone. It meant that they spent a significant amount of time together.

He'd been set up a cot in Steve's cabin (it was a particular 'fuck you' from Nancy) Once he was conscious enough to do so, he bombarded Steve with questions.

Something about the stinky, crispy, ill man on the other side of the room brought his guard so far down, he practically gave his entire life story on the first night. Eddie listened carefully, and Steve almost thought he'd fallen asleep when he started lauding how 'bad-ass' that was, choosing his own destiny like that.

It was pointed like, 'look at us', but Steve knew he wasn't wrong. It was stupidly endearing. They spent the entire night, and the rest of the ones after it talking. Eddie never talked about his past, though.

In the days following, Steve got to watch first hand as Eddie endeared himself to the crew. He had an astounding sense of humor that seemed like it was almost personally curated to each person, while still being entirely his own.

He was a quick learner, too.

It only took him a few days to almost entirely memorize every part of the ship, and how they each worked with each other.

He gave Mike and El a run for their money as he chased them up the masts. Dustin and Lucas each lauded his natural sense of direction. He became the first person Argyle allowed into the galley, citing having spent some time in kitchens before. Erica even let him join her in retelling the story of Orion at the end of a long day.

They didn't need to vote in the end as everyone pleaded their cases as to why Eddie should join the crew of Bad Hair Day.

So he did, and they were better for it.

He kept spirits high, a song always ready on his lips. He was an endless fountain of stories, and Steve was never sure if he was making them up as he went or not. Story time became a nightly event.

Their raids started going well, too.

Eddie was good at a lot of things, learning more every day, but he had a particular knack for being a tactician. He knew which ships were good pickings for what days, and how best to approach them in the first place. Everyone on board was given a specific role for each attack.

They walked away with less injuries (on both sides) and more loot.

Steve loved Eddie's company. Every moment where their attention wasn't needed elsewhere was spent together. Eddie's cot never left Steve's cabin, though it did eventually get shoved into one of the storage spaces instead.

Things were going better, but pirating was not a perfect science and something had to go wrong eventually. As far as it went though, a year without a disaster had to be some kind of record.

No one had been expecting a hidden compartment full of weapons under the deck of the Spanish vessel they raided. They were working on corralling the crew to tie them up when the maelstrom started.

It took them too long to react and resulted in a retreat rather than a victory, but everyone came away unscathed. They thought so at least. King Steve had a special skill of his own, after all. He had long ago perfected the art of stuffing every single pain (emotional and physical) deep inside himself if need be.

He just didn't want anyone to panic until they were safely back on Bad Hair Day. His crew was more important than the shot he'd taken to the gut during the first volley.

Eddie, of course, noticed when Steve couldn't get up from his seat when they got back to the ship. He had been planning on being the last up, like always... but he just couldn't move.

He didn't remember much past Eddie's panicked face coming close to his, and then some yelling.

He finally came to several days later. It was dark outside and he had a mouthful of ratty brown hair. There was no question who had crawled into bed with him. If Steve had been able to, he would have pulled the man closer.

He'd been in and out of consciousness for days, slipping quietly between wakefulness and dreaming. But Eddie was always at his bedside, and the first thing in his minds-eye. He dreamed vividly of his whole crew, his family. But it was always Eddie.

Steve wouldn't say he'd been pining, though Robin and Nancy would insist that he was. But he was tired of waiting. He'd almost died without the chance to tell Eddie everything.

He couldn't raise his cracked voice over a whisper as he called out Eddie's name. Thankfully, he was a light sleeper, jumping quickly to action. He rolled out of bed with an apology, and said he was getting the others.

Steve was still too weak to call him back.

He knew Nancy and somehow Johnathon noticed the way his eyes were tracking Eddie around the room as everyone swarmed the cabin. They tried to corral everyone, but Steve still had to suffer through an hour of everyone fussing over him before he and Eddie were alone again.

He tried to tell him as he worked on cleaning Steve up. He had just enough energy to let himself be sponged down, and his bandages changed. Eddie even let him clean his teeth, but he wouldn't let him talk.

Eddie sure had a lot to say, though, about "stupid heroics" "you could have died" and "how dare you"-s

He even retreated back to his cot when he was done. Steve could stand for the rest, but that wasn't going to work for him.

But the damn man was stubborn when he wanted to be, and wasn't responding as Steve tried to get his attention. It was not how he wanted the moment to go, but he had one last hail Mary.

He just bit the proverbial bullet and said it.

"Eddie, I'm sorry I almost died. And I'm sorry I haven't told you sooner, but I love you, so please get back over here because I do not want to waste any more fucking time"

He was reminded of their first time alone in this room together as the silence lingered. Maybe Eddie had fallen asleep and Steve had wasted his breath. Maybe it wasn't what he wanted to hear after all.

-then Eddie fell out of the cot in his scramble to get to Steve.

They couldn't do much more that night than carefully hold each other, but they made sure to never waste their time together again.

It took a few years, but King Steve and his crew became one of the most well known set of pirates there were. It was a dream. Their dream, each of them.

He'd tried explaining this dream to his parents one of the few times he went into check on the business. Mostly, they were there so that the kids could see their families, but he usually checked in on his own property at the same time. He wasn't expecting them to be there when he showed up, and wasn't surprised when he was immediately banished from the property.

He was told he had no family anymore and to not return. That was fine, he was making a name for himself and they were wrong. He defiantly had a family. He didn't even need anyone to tell him as much.

He didn't worry so much after that day.

*

Everyone trusted Eddie with their life, especially Steve. But there was one thing that always rubbed them all as weird. Every so often when they made port, Eddie would manage to slip off on his own. He wouldn't find his way back until morning, usually still drunk, looking like he'd swallowed sunshine. He refused to answer any questions on the subject, and managed to shake them off his trail every time they tried to follow.

But Steve trusted him. Especially after a particularly weak moment when he'd confronted Eddie thinking he was sneaking off to brothels. His fear's had been thoroughly and astutely assuaged then, after several hours, and he knew Eddie would tell them when he was ready.

In the end it wasn't a decision of his own making.

Eddie was with their crew for three years when they boarded the Coffin Maker. Eddie was up first as their showman, putting on a performance to introduce the rest of the crew. Will was the one that pointed out that some of the crew were looking at Eddie weird.

His side still twinged from time to time, and there was no way that he was letting Eddie get hurt. He was ready to rush over to his Eddie when the captain of the Coffin Maker's crew spoke up.

"Ed?"

That drew him and everyone on deck up short, weapons lowering in confusion as the fluffy haired captain kept going.

"Eddie Munson, I'd know you anywhere you dog. Thought you took over The Revenge when your Uncle retired. What are you doing here?"

It was the first time any of them had seen Eddie speechless. The idea that this was still a raid dissipated as the stranger walked up to him and greeted him with a warm handshake, shaking him until his stupor was gone.

"Gareth. No- Wayne sold the ship and I was landlocked with him for awhile. I've got a new crew now"

He stepped to the side and indicated to Steve and the others with a sweeping gesture. Gareth finally noticed the tension and took a step back.

That was when Nancy broke. Loud peals of laughter rang out over the entire ship, startling several of even her won crew.

"You're Edmund Munson, you were first-mate to Wayne Munson of Chrissy's Revenge. I should have known" she gasped and pointed as each member of their crew slowly came to the same realization. She nearly choked when she looked over at Steve's shocked face.

Everyone knew of Captain Wayne Munson. He's what people described as a gentle pirate. Master of tact, refusing to come to violence unless absolutely necessary. Most of what he pillaged ended up in the hands of those who needed it, rather than his own pockets. His first mate had been wild, and untamed waif with a penchant for theatrics. No one was very sure where he'd come from.

Then they had just disappeared.

"I was practically a kid" Eddie had tried to deafened himself, looking to Steve, face as red as the day they pulled him out of the sea. It just made Nancy laugh harder.

Gareth looked uncomfortable as Eddie visibly debated throwing himself overboard. Someone produced a bottle of rum and pressed it into his hands.

That broke the rest of the tension and the two crews called a truce of sorts over the odd introduction and started mingling.

Dinner was a joint effort that night as the two crews shared in the woes and joys of pirating. Gareth, and a few others who greeted Eddie in a less obvious fashion, smartly kept his mouth shut about their time on Chrissy's Revenge.

Steve was quietly livid, though he did see the humor everyone else did. But he didn't like being lied to.

He eventually let Eddie pull him aside when they got back to Bad Hair Day, and listened as he explained that he'd planned on being honest from the start, but he'd heard Steve and Nancy arguing about how he was a threat. He kept putting off telling the truth until it was far too late to admit anything.

He apologized wholeheartedly, and finally told Steve where he went when they made port.

They kept their travels very well planned. Enough so that he was always able to get word to his uncle a whole port ahead so that they could see each other when he was close enough.

Steve asked if he could meet him the next time. It was the closest Eddie was getting to forgiveness for now.

It only took two days of apologizes to Steve and the others before all was forgiven, though it was in no way forgotten. He took the hazing in stride.

It was another year before Steve got to meet Wayne. The man wasn't what he'd been expecting, but he obviously fiercely loved his nephew. He'd settled down with a nice lady, and they had opened a bar together. He wished the best for Steve and Eddie. Said they were much better suited to the life than he ever was.

They made it in time to be at his bedside a few years later.

He was still mostly kicking around by the time they got there and the decision to take an indefinite shore leave was unanimous. Turns out the bar was in rough shape, and in desperate need of some attention.

Steve's crew was more than willing to help out.

They fit into rolls here as easily as they had on the ship, and with just as much of a learning curve. But it was a nice reprieve.

Eddie got to hold Wayne's hand as he slipped away.

Steve had never bought into the idea that someone looked like they were sleeping once they'd passed, but Captain Munson looked quiet and peaceful as Eddie wept.

They only stayed for two weeks after Wayne's small funeral. There were still a few things left to be put right, and Eddie didn't seem ready to say goodbye yet. Everyone was respectful of the fact, but eagerly agreed when the idea of shipping back out again came up.

Wayne's Lady slipped Eddie the deed to the bar as they went to the docks, saying she was happy to take care of it until he decided to sell... or come back if that was his prerogative.

They didn't touch it for a very long time. But being on the sea was hard on the body, and eventually wears down on the mind.

They weren't the only ones slowing down, either.

All the "big kids" were getting up there. Only a little over 43 wasn't that old in the grand scheme of things, but they were tired.

The kids were still wild things, though. The decision to leave Bad Hair Day in their capable hands (under the direction of Captain Will) wasn't difficult, though saying goodbye was. It took days for Steve to stop crying after the ship disappeared over the horizon without them.

The kids still came back often. Truthfully, maybe too often to be good business. Steve wasn't going to complain, though.

There were even a few times where each of them went back out for a stint or two.

It was everything and so much more than Steve could have ever wanted from any of them. They'd plotted and planned this life in their secret fort in the jungles of what was once their home. But now he knew freedom, it wasn't just a dream. He knew love, he had a family. He had Eddie.

He didn't go down in history as another little boy with all the advantages in the world handed to him on a platter.

He went down in history as King Steve, first captain of Bad Hair Day. Predecessor to Will The Wise and so many more to follow. He was father, mother, brother and captain to his family.

More importantly, he went down in history to them, those who mattered the most, as beloved.

#I can't keep things brief #ofmd inspired #stranger things #stranger things au #pirate au #stranger things pirate au #steve harrington #I know nothing of sailing #pirate captain steve harrington #oh look #the whole gangs here #Edmund Munson supremacy #eddie munson #steddie #but mostly just pirates #long post #stranger things fanfiction #steve x eddie #I made this so soft im sorry #found family

[droppingdonkeys]

@tretramonti​

From the moment the barrelman had called for land, there had been a recrudescence in the spirits of the crew until they made it into the harbor. Luisa had been both excited but still nervous to set foot on the first land she’d seen in months since she left the Encanto.

Much later, with a bag of her belongings thrown over her shoulder, Luisa made the way over the gangplank down to the pier. Seagulls flew overhead, there was a cacophony of sounds and voices. It even smelled different, but that was to be expected.

Making her way through the crowds was a challenge; while people did step out of her path, they also stopped moving to gawk up at her. She was, here as well, taller than the average person.

#tretramonti #High seas AU

[runningracingdancingchasing]

Verse: 18th Century High Seas Fantasy

aka Shift Tides and Shanties

Created for RPs with no one in particular (aka open verse to all)

Compatible with “The Sea Beast,” “Pirates of the Caribbean,” and “Treasure Planet” among others. Adjustments can be made to better facilitate a specific setting.

Many centuries ago, a single drop of sunlight fell from the heavens. That drop formed a gemstone, golden yellow, always warm to the touch, and glowing with an inner light, which could heal the sick and injured. Coveted by many, wars were fought over the gem, but eventually it found its way to a single family line, custodians of the power. Legends say that they were chosen by the Sun to wield that power, and that none other can use the gem.

Now dubbed the Sun’s Tear, it has been kept hidden for so long that it is merely legend and rumor, and most believe it does not truly exist.

Rapunzel Solaris is the wayward daughter of King Frederic and Queen Arianna of Corona, and though she is next in line for the throne, that is not the life she wants or loves. She has found her true spirit and calling through adventure and the open sea. As the current custodian of the Sun’s Tear, she feels that it is safest when it is constantly on the move. Even if people believed it were real, they would assume it was kept in the castle treasury, not on the person of a young woman at sea.

Not truly a pirate, Rapunzel seeks the romance of adventure and treasure hunting, not so much theft and murder, though this does not make her incompetent as a sailor and swordswoman! She dresses down, never speaking of her title, and hiding in plain sight among the crews she works with. Her favorite position on the ship is as barrelman, up in the crow’s nest, with the wind in her face and the blue horizon as far as the eye can see.

#Verses #Do not reblog

[feifeitanp2]

A little sneaky peek at my Genshin Pirate AU fanfic

Wind rushed through Amber's hair as she looked out onto the ocean. From all the way up here the sound of waves and seagulls blocked out most of the noises of the crew below her. It’s not that Amber didn’t care about her crewmates, it was just nice to have a place to escape to. She climbed the ship ropes higher and dared to see if she could get to the top; the crows nest. The crows nest was where she usually resided being the barrelman. However after Amber received a pretty harsh injury on her arm, she was told to take a break. Under no circumstance was she to do heavy lifting or climb according to Barbara. Her arm was fine now, really but Jean continued to tell her to rest. So the trick right now was to not get caught. She wanted that rush of being up high in the air again that she was so addicted to, and she missed being able to see the endless bright blue sea for miles and miles.

#fanfic #fanfiction #genshin impact #pirate au

[shahananasrin-blog]

[ad_1] A Toronto woman has capped off her months-long mission to race from coast to coast to outpace a debilitating disease affecting hundreds of thousands of Canadian families, including her own. Earlier this year, Stephanie Fauquier had her sights set on racing 500 kilometres in 10 triathlons across 10 provinces this summer to raise awareness and money for Alzheimer’s research. She achieved her goal on Sept. 17 after wrapping up the Niagara Falls Barrelman Triathlon. “I decided that I would race across Canada, because it’s not just an Ontario issue, it’s a Canada-wide issue,” she told CTV News. Fauquier competed in each province and raised around $300,000, surpassing her fundraising goal by $37,000. “Many small steps lead to big outcomes,” she said in an interview with CTV’s Scott Hurst. For Fauquier, the endurance challenge dubbed “Race with Steph” not only aimed at raising money and awareness for research, but was a way to celebrate a loved one, her mother Robin McLeod. McLeod is a recipient of the Order of Canada and a globally-recognized surgeon for her contributions to general surgery and academic research throughout her career. She is also living with the harsh reality of an Alzheimer’s diagnosis. In 2020, around 597,000 people were living with dementia in the country and that number is projected to balloon to close to one million by the end of the decade, according to Alzheimer Society Canada. The annual cost of dementia to the Canadian economy and health-care system is estimated to cost somewhere between $910 million and $33 billion. While there is no cure for this neurodegenerative disease, a group of researchers at the University of Toronto, the recipients of Fauquier’s fundraising campaign, say better treatments are within reach. Graham Collingridge, director of U of T’s Tanz Centre for Research in Neurodegenerative Diseases, told CTV News dementia is a “terrible” disease and represents “some of the worst medical problems confronting Canadians.” To watch the full story, click the video at the top of this article. [ad_2]

[theflirtmeister]

SeasonsOfDrabbles is finally out of Anon! I can reveal I wrote these 2 fics for Jaws:

space between two men - Implied Hooper/Brody + Quint/Brody, 1200 words, Teen for language/sexual content.

Barrelman - Hooper/Quint/Brody, 100 word Drabble, Teen for sexual content.

#i dont want to put this in the main tag #but if u want to read jaws fic~ #i also wrote drabbles for barbie + stranger things + dcu + original work + carrie #you can find them all on my ao3 account!

[sheepwithspecs]

Preview: Playing to Win, Chapter 3

Read the first two chapters here!

"Last night, the isle was rocked by tremors, and the earth itself cried out. Aloft, the heavens began to burn...." -Ahewann

“Cap’n!” The barrelman waved to him from the crow’s nest. “There’s an anchored vessel ahead!” he announced, pointing towards a stationary speck in the near distance. “It looks like there may have been a—”

Before the man could finish, the Misery seemed to bulge at the center. There was an anticipatory moment of calm, as before a heavy storm, when all sounds cease save for the lap of waves against the hull. The men seemed to move twice as slowly, heads turning and lips poised to speak as they looked towards the center mast. Gerald leaned over the wheel, head cocked in bewilderment as he pointed towards the shore. Carvallain turned to follow his gaze, the heel of his boot sliding on the foredeck.

All at once, the air came alive with a terrible, earsplitting wail. Carvallain clapped his hands over his sensitive ears, knees hitting the deck as he set his teeth against the pain. It was a cry, a scream, a shriek that echoed over the empty fields, amplified by the waves. He feared his very skin might peel from his bones, the blood freezing in his veins; he could no longer hear himself think, every ilm of his skull filled to bursting with the sound. It was more than any man could hope to bear. From the corner of his eye, he saw more than one of his men leap into the water in an effort to drown the noise. And then, just when he thought he might make the leap himself in a fit of madness—

It stopped.

For a moment he could hear nothing beyond a shrill ringing in his ears, as though he stood at the center of an overpowering aetherial vortex. His silent pulse hammered in his throat, head spinning and gut roiling as he made every attempt to gather his bearings. If he could not rise to his feet and deliver orders, what hope did his crew have of rallying?

As the terrible ringing began to subside, his awareness grew to include those nearest him. Mordyn braced himself on his hands and knees, vomiting bile onto the deck with great gulping heaves. His limbs trembled like a newborn fawn, but he was already halfway to standing. Gasping for air, he caught his captain’s eye and blanched. Carvallain nodded his encouragement.

Steady. He mouthed the words, not trusting his own voice while his head was still spinning on his shoulders. Even if he could speak, there was no way of knowing if the man could hear him. Mordyn returned the gesture as best he could. Behind him, the hardier Krakens were already picking themselves off the foredeck. They stumbled towards the railing with green faces, peering into the water in an effort to locate their fallen brothers.

“Ca—urp—Captain?” Gerald literally pulled himself up by the rail, clinging to it for dear life as his shaking hand again pointed towards the shore. His voice sounded small and far away. “S-Smoke…” he managed, coughing phlegm onto the wheel as a wave of nausea overcame him. “Distress… signal?”

“Not likely.” Bracing his axe against the deck, Carvallain lifted himself to his feet. A few deep breaths helped to quell the churning in his stomach, but his ears continued to ring with faint echoes of the wild screeching roar. “What was that awful racket?” he wondered aloud, fishing a handkerchief from his gaskins. He mopped the fresh sweat from his face before settling the plumed hat firmly on his brow. “I’ve never heard anything quite like it.”

“A harbinger….” One of his oarsmen, a plucky Midlander barely out of swaddling clothes, wrung his hands in clear dismay. “Of the Final Days!”

“What do you mean?” Carvallain asked, addressing him with a frown. While he was not one to encourage superstition within his ranks, even the tallest tales often held grains of truth.

“M-My sister, she lives in Radz-at-Han with her husband and his family,” he explained, teeth chattering with fright. “She told me that when the Final Days began, the star itself seemed to wail out in agony. And then the skies turned red, and the m-m-monsters—” He said no more, hiding his face in his hands with a wordless cry.

“Cease that sniveling at once.” He lifted his axe onto his shoulder, looking towards the billowing smoke. “I don’t care about what happened in Thavnair; I care about what’s happening now. Maybe the star did cry out. Maybe it did not. But the skies are not red, and even if they were, that’s no excuse for cowardice aboard my ship. Krakens are stalwart gentlemen of means, not whimpering pups hiding in their mother’s shadow.”  

“A-A-Aye, Captain.” The boy sniffed loudly, wiping his eyes with the collar of his woolen shirt before hurrying off to his post.

“Gerald.” He pointed towards the anchored ship on the horizon. “Take us there.”

“Aye, sir.”

#ffxiv #fanfiction #my writing #carvallain de gorgagne #I think maybe Vylbrand should have experienced the apocalypse just a little #anyway the new chapter should be up soon-ish #maybe a couple more weeks?