trickstercaptain

[trickstercaptain]

BALDUR'S GATE 3 / D&D VERSE.

This verse is heavily affiliated with hargrovetm / reddhaed.

Swashbuckler Rogue / Archfey Warlock. Jack is more of a companion character than a Tav/leader of the group; he can be recruited at Waukeen's Rest, where he winds up after the nautiloid crash, attempting to help with the Flaming Fists' efforts to rescue Counsellor Florrick — despite the price on his head and warrant out for his arrest. If Florrick is rescued, she and the other Flaming Fists will attempt to arrest Jack on the spot, but she can of course be talked out of this and Jack will join the party instead.

FULL BIO UNDER THE CUT.

In this universe, Jack grows up in Immurk's Hold, the pirate-led stronghold of the Sea of Fallen Stars. Much of his childhood is feral and dangerous and unhappy, as in canon, until an alliance is struck between Teague and his Brethren of pirate captains and a wandering barbarian clan, which brings Billy Hargrove to the island. The two strike up a close friendship and soon become even closer than that — and before Christophe can fully sink his claws into Jack, he agrees to run away from Immurk's Hold with Billy and finally forge his own path away from Teague. The pair head for the Sword Coast and, on the way, run into a runaway Feywild princess, Sera, and they become an adventuring trio in Baldur's Gate. Their hijinks include, but are not limited to, a plot by Jack and Sera to impersonate the Umberlee clerics at the Water Queen's Palace in the south of the Lower City.

However, unbeknownst to Jack, a dark Sharran power continues to grow within Billy and his struggle to control it culminates in an attempt on Jack's life in his possessed state. Horrified, Billy offers no explanation and simply disappears from Baldur's Gate; confused and heartbroken, Jack spends days and weeks searching for any lead he can find on his boyfriend's disappearance. Billy had in fact headed for a source of Sharran power, Moonrise Towers, to rid himself of his curse completely, but had found himself trapped by Shar in a hidden vault, suspended in perpetual slumber. He can be encountered again by Jack during Act 2 of the game.

Jack's determination to find Billy is only interrupted when Umberlee clerics track him and Sera down to enact revenge for their sacrilegious transgressions, and the pair are forced to flee the city themselves. Sera offers a solution that would avoid the pair becoming wanted fugitives: amnesty in the Feywild, on the condition that Sera marry the suitor her parents had originally picked out for her.

Given how the passage of time flows differently in the Feywild, it is hard to say exactly how long the pair spent there. Harbouring some fey ancestry of his own from his mother's side, Jack learns to adapt to the lifestyle, however miserable it makes the pair of them — but not without a test that leaves a mark. An oceanid archfey known as Calypso, cast out from the Seelie Court, tricks Jack into a warlock pact one day when he stumbles into her domain, and for all the fondness that later develops between the pair, uses him as a pawn to stir up trouble within Sera's home kingdom. The pair eventually decide to leave completely, freeing Sera of her loveless marriage in the process, and with years having passed in the meantime, head back to Baldur's Gate.

With their reputations tainted by the Umberlee Incident, Sera establishes herself at the Blushing Mermaid, and Jack starts working for black market weapons dealer Enver Gortash. The arrangement works: Gortash uses Jack's nautical prowess and experience to procure artifacts from afar while simultaneously smuggling weapons in and out of the city. Jack soon grows suspicious of his employer, particularly after the sudden disappearance of his tiefling bodyguard, Karlach, and their push and pull continues until Jack foils an operation to send yet more slaves to Avernus.

For his disobedience, Jack's ship is set on fire and he is branded with infernal script — enough, supposedly, to bind him to the hells and see him sent to Avernus like the others, but Gortash does not account for the claim of the Feywild on Jack's fate. Instead, the brand remains solely a brand on skin instead of an infernal contract, and Jack negotiates with Calypso to not only save his life from his fumbled attempt to save his burning ship, but shrink the newly rechristened Black Pearl to bottle size and use her as his warlock's pact boon.

The next ten years pass with Jack embracing his piratical reputation and bounty on his head, particularly as Gortash's influence in the city increases — until one day he is abducted by a freak mindflayer attack and winds up in the wilderness...

#*verses #&. verse. touched by the fey and wanted by the hells ( bg3 / dnd. )

[trickstercaptain]

       The fatigue and weariness of the past few hours had sunk deep into Jack's bones — enough that his joints protested as he'd joined Astarion on the floor — but it was at least accompanied by an overwhelming rush of relief. He could not imagine what his companion was going through, having experienced the adrenaline of the fight through High Hall, the defeat of the Netherbrain, and freedom from the tadpole burrowed into his brain, only to sink as said liberation robbed him once more of his ability to walk in the sun. He was free in every sense of the word: free from Cazador, free from the risk of becoming an illithid thrall, but once again subject to the same curse that afflicted all vampire spawn. There was no comforting someone who had gained and then lost so much in the space of a few precious minutes; Jack could only hope that being here with him helped, even just a little.

       One thing he knew, one thing he'd made peace with over recent months and weeks, was that if he was going to make things with Astarion work then he needed to accept that he was needed. Needed to stay, to be with him, to actually be a partner and not falter at the first promise of commitment. It was hard to overturn decades of flightiness and anxiety at the thought of trusting someone enough to stay, but Jack was working on it.

       The quiver in Astarion's voice wrung at Jack's heart, and he pulled him properly into his arms. “ I've got you. I've got you. ” Jack pressed a feather-light kiss to the crown of his head. “ Thought we already agreed you were stuck with me? ” There was nothing he could say to help. All he could do was fill the space between them with his words, for his own sake as well as his grieving companion. “ Besides, in saving the city we also may have unintentionally destroyed it, and I did not risk upending my entire reputation as a thief and a vagabond just to be dragged onto some committee tasked with... clean up duties. ” It was as much the truth as it was an attempt to reassure Astarion that he truly wasn't missing out on anything outside of these crumbling, abandoned walls. “ The Underdark never seemed so tempting. ”

it had all crumbled down, the excitement, the lingering feeling of calm and success and joy had over taken astarion, things he had rarely felt before, all at once. it wasn’t then that he had felt the way the sun had burned, burned the way it had before, sunlight went from providing warm and safety…animal instincts kicked in then. when he heard the people around him warning him, telling him to run. reminding him of the sun, and it’s betrayal. he had made his way through the city that was all too familiar to him, only an empty place would work. and he kicked climbed and fought his way in.

the silence was deafening. and he just waited.

an overwhelming sadness has over taken him. he barely moves when jack makes his own way in, had found him in the vastness of the city. his hand hurts, his face hurts, and his heart is heavy, the look jack gave him. astarion never liked the pity that came with his affliction, with his situation, he hates it. he says something because he cannot muster anger, it left him, he’s just sad. he’s just sad. he feels the arm around more than he sees it, he simply leans into jack, his hair being played with calms him down slightly. he doesn’t know what to say, words aren’t coming to him as easy as they usually do. “it will heal.” he whispers “-i wouldn’t mind something to…help…but i don’t want you to leave. yet. stay if you will.” his voice quivers, eyes red and bright, shinning because of the tears that are threatening to break. “please.” he hides his face in jack’s neck. it’s a type of sadness that overcomes the fear.

#anquenin #&. verse. touched by the fey and wanted by the hells ( bg3 / dnd. ) #i intentionally held onto this until i'd finished my playthrough dfkjgdf but now i'm even more sad

[trickstercaptain]

@anquenin sent a meme: ❛ i’ll get over it. i just need to be dramatic first. ❜

       It was a ramshackle building in the lower town of the city — abandoned, thankfully, or he supposed Astarion wouldn't have chosen it as his hiding spot of choice. That also meant there were plenty of wooden boards and and debris strewn around, and so in an attempt to feel useful and not at all helpless ( as he in fact was in this situation ), Jack had taken it upon himself to move steadily around the room, boarding up windows and generally blocking out all of the sunlight that he could see. They still had a few hours until sunset, after all, and the last thing he wanted was for Astarion to be restricted to only one half of the room until darkness fell.

       Still, he hadn't moved from where he was sat in the corner, hugging his knees up against his chest. Astarion must have caught the stricken look that Jack had directed his way, or else he probably wouldn't have said anything at all — but the obvious wobble in his voice as he spoke had the opposite effect of reassuring him. Instead, something in Jack's chest constricted, and he put the plank of wood in his hands down at once. Crossing the room, Jack slowly sat down beside him. “ It's not dramatic. ” With the defeat of the Elder Brain, they'd all finally been freed of their mindflayer tadpoles — but for Astarion that meant once again becoming a stranger to the sun, burned by its rays and forced to seek out the darkness. Jack was going to reach out for his hand, but then saw the puckered, burnt flesh snaking across the back of his hand and wrist from where it had been caught in the sun earlier. The same was true of his face. With a slight frown, Jack put an arm around him instead, letting him rest his head on his shoulder. Fingers played with the elf's hair. “ Will it heal? I might be able to find something to help ease the sting, if you like. ”

#anquenin #&. and you want to turn pirate yourself. is that it? ( answered. ) #&. verse. touched by the fey and wanted by the hells ( bg3 / dnd. ) #this could have been funny but instead i made it sad

[trickstercaptain]

@hargrovetm sent a meme: [ reunion ] a longing kiss shared after being apart for a while

       Astarion had left him to sleep off the pounding in his skull and, safe and warm and once again in control of his own thoughts as he was back at the Elfsong, Jack had slept soundly. He wasn't sure how many hours had passed when he next awoke — though darkness had crept in through the windows and their room was now illuminated by candlelight — but the throb was more of a dull ache now, at least. No longer the worst hangover he'd ever had, or so he'd described it upon coming to miles away from Gortash's underwater prison, their frantic rescue mission long since over. He wouldn't have been able to describe the place even if he'd wanted to; memories only came to him in flashes, as if he recalled being there but his consciousness had been... far away at the time. Absent. Unresponsive. Which he supposed it had been.

       He didn't notice his silent sentinel sitting guard until he rolled onto his side, meeting Billy's gaze with a small smile. Aware that he was now being watched, Jack slowly sat himself up in bed. His vision wasn't swimming now, either, thankfully. He sat there for a moment, watching Billy, wondering whether he was going to come any closer. “ Thank you. ” He tried another smile “ I'm sure it's not the hardest I've ever been hit on the head. ”

       It must have just been the shock still wearing off, but gods did he want Billy closer in that moment. Close enough just to put his arms around, perhaps. The gulf of years that extended like a chasm between them didn't matter in this moment. At least things with Astarion felt easier, more comfortable — but then, the two of them weren't carrying the added weight of a relationship cut off painfully in its prime. While things with Billy were... amicable, Jack wouldn't describe them as warm. Not yet.

       Though he needn't have worried about Billy not feeling the same way. The kiss was sprung on him almost out of nowhere; Jack only had a second to register Billy's movement out of his chair before their lips were touching, Billy's hand cradling his cheek. All at once, Jack invited him in, winding his arms around his neck, needing the comfort, the relief, the long lost familiarity of his closeness. He remembered this, even though he thought he'd forgotten. His muscles remembered, his lips remembered, his heart remembered. And it was beating frantically against his ribcage.

#hargrovetm #&. and you want to turn pirate yourself. is that it? ( answered. ) #&. verse. touched by the fey and wanted by the hells ( bg3 / dnd. ) #oh this is sooooooooo #this is gonna make me cry i can feel it

[trickstercaptain]

Good man. Good pirate. I swear you look just like him.

#i've been thinking about this gifset i made all day and i'm crying about it :))) #&. a lost bird who never learned to fly ( captain jack sparrow. ) #&. the whelp ( will turner. ) #'one of the few who knew him as william turner' like jack what does that MEAN #me with my rare pairs and my canoe like #ya'll have been shipping him with the wrong turner #and i'm still sad jack and bootstrap didn't get closure but ANYWAY

[trickstercaptain]

@shadowcovcn sent a meme: [ lingering ] bootstrap ᐅ [ lingering ] a long, slow kiss filled with emotion and desire

       “ That was absolutely, unequivocably not what happened. ” And yet, despite the protest, Jack was laughing as he threw his coat over his chair and meandered over to the pantry in the corner of the room. He wasn't sure what he was looking for — another bottle so that he could pop the cork and the two of them could keep going, maybe? Jack didn't want Bill to leave, not yet, not after his attempts to negotiate himself some female company tonight had ended in characteristically dire fashion and he'd been forced to return to the Pearl instead of waking up bleary-eyed but warm next to someone else the following morning. He whirled around with said drink in his hands, cocking a conspiratorial brow at his ship's carpenter where he was stood in the archway. Bill was better conversation and overall company, anyway.

       But if he'd looked closer, he might have noticed something else reflected in his friend's eyes tonight. Something that had been burning for some time. Jack put the bottle down on the side, looking for cups to pour the liquid into, and he felt Bill's presence beside him. It took only a fraction of a second, when their eyes finally met, for him to duck his head and take his chance.

       The kiss started slow, tentative, uncertain — and while Jack was initially frozen in place as their lips met, the feeling of it wasn't necessary unwelcome. It was pleasant enough for him to lean in and let himself be kissed, letting whatever felt pent up and restrained in his companion to wash over him, reaching out to grasp hold of his shoulder, his shirt sleeve, keeping him close. Jack chose not to break the kiss himself, but to let Bill pull away when he was ready. “ How much have you had to drink? ” If he sounded a little surprised — and bemused — then that was because he was. Jack searched his companion's gaze a little more thoroughly. “ William. ” A little sterner, trying to draw the man's attention. “ You're my friend. Forgive me if I'm reticent to be your home-wrecker. ”

#shadowcovcn #shadowcovcn: bootstrap bill turner #&. and you want to turn pirate yourself. is that it? ( answered. ) #there it is #jack the homewrecker lmaooo

[trickstercaptain]

       The angered, impulsive thoughts were skittering through his mind. Why had he come back? He wasn't ready for this. He should have just kept running from his past the way he always did. It was safer that way. It was safer not to care. It was safer not to have anyone that he cared about, especially not here. It wasn't too late to cut and run, after all... and it wasn't too late to reach for the cutlery on the table between them and stab Lucas North in the eye with a fork. He might get a few good hits in before do-gooders from other tables intervened to restrain the Starbucks madman, as the papers would come to know him, and the police were called. At the very least, North might wind up maimed and blinded from the experience.

       Needless to say, trying to maintain the outwardly indifferent facade was becoming harder and harder to manage, and Jack was sure Lucas knew it. As the second photograph was produced, like a far more sinister version of a This Is Your Life episode, the mask finally slipped — a humourless smile, a huff of breath, and the balling of his free hand into a fist on his lap. He saw Christophe's face staring up at him through the mugshot adjacent to the article, a story that he'd wished he'd never confided in the man before him. Yet another weakness that he was privy to, taking its position alongside a whole line of other weaknesses. Stacking the odds against him, making his boasted-of unpredictable nature a lot easier to predict.

       Jack let the man finish, holding in his temper with a white-knuckle grip. “ Do you think you've gotten any less patronising with age? ” It sounded more angered than sarcastic, for sure. Still turning John's photo over and over in his fingers, Jack wisely paused before speaking again. “ Bravo. This is all very well rehearsed. Just enough threat and conjecture to rattle me, but not to scare me off. If you actually wanted me to give this up and leave well alone, you'd have done something more dramatic for a first reunion. ” It was well within his power to do so; one mistake Jack wasn't going to make was to underestimate his ex-mentor, or the games he and his employer liked to play. He'd learned from the best, for better or worse. “ You clearly know where John is at all times and, even if you didn't, all I'd have to do is tell you to read the papers and you can find out all about his crime-solving flatmate with the stupid hat. He has a brother in the secret services, I believe. Maybe I should get his number. ”

       Sherlock and Mycroft could prove valuable assets to him. If he didn't fuck things up with John... and if he actually told him the truth. Jack fixed Lucas with what he hoped was a knowing glare. “ Beckett wants me to play. You want me to play. So, one word before we finish this little tête-à-tête, ” he slowly rose from his chair, looking down at the other man. “ Maybe John's not a pawn at all. Maybe he'll be right there beside me when I lodge a bullet in your skull and watch you bleed out on the ground without an ounce of remorse. Maybe he'll have handed me the gun... or maybe he'll have shot you first. ”

       He turned on his heel, then, hoping that was the end of it. For now, at least. The game of chess had only just begun.

There’s a beat of silence after he slides the photograph over, grey-blue eyes doing nothing but weighing every nuance of Jack’s reaction, every twitch of muscle that might show some chink in that feigned armor … but the other man is an implacable as ever, and Lucas feels a sense of pride warring with the frustration underneath. Jack had ever been an easy student, picking up the more complicated tasks with an ease that made him seem a promising talent and made his teacher seem like one of the best in the business. Lucas had watched as Beckett made careful plans with the younger boy in mind, had felt his chest puff with pride whenever a compliment was visited upon him .. each successful job on Jack’s part had been a reassurance that the agent’s position was safe, that he was needed …. and now, of course, it was coming ‘round to bite him in the arse. 

“Never claimed I was your friend, Jack. Simply said I was trying to help you. One of your biggest flaws was that you’d never tell the difference, they were one and the same.” He arches a brow at that, chest tightening the slightest bit at the way the other man so casually dismisses what Lucas considers a fair warning, what he had hoped would be enough … and yet…Tongue presses to the inside of one cheek as they sit in silence for a moment, storm-grey eyes studying his once friend of sort’s expression. There is one card the agent has yet to play, an ace so far up his sleeve that Lucas is loathe to use it. It’s hard enough for a man to tip any good game in his favor, made near impossible by the drawing of lines in the sand… but any hope of an easy victory is waning fast, so the older man places another photograph on the table between them. It’s a screen grab of a newspaper headline and accompanying article, a short paragraph on the disappearance and death of one Christophe-Julien de Rapièr .. a man who to most was nothing but a glimpse of a bad life meeting a bad end, but who would serve as a grim reminder to the young man whose footsteps he had dogged. 

When he speaks the words are slow, a low rumble with the determined calmness of a man leading someone to slaughter, doing his best to not incite panic. “Do you think telling him is his safety from all this? Is that what you repeat over and over when it’s in the middle of the night and you can’t sleep for that panic in your lungs?” Two fingers pass the photograph of the article closer, as if he’s chasing the other man with it, and Lucas keeps his eyes trained on Jack’s face with the same steady stare. “You and I both know that its not the killing that haunts you. It’s the people you couldn’t save, the ones you didn’t even touch … makes you almost feel more responsible, doesn’t it? John will slip Jack, and it’ll be your hand he’ll reach for … what happens if you’re too caught up in all of this to get there in time? What happens if something - this, for example - what if it’s all just a ruse to keep you away from him? A stopping point while we banish him from the board for good?” 

Weight shifts as he leans backwards in the chair, expression one of sympathy - there’s a bit of truth there, he thinks. The time he spent with Jack under his wing had been time enough to build an affection for him, to feel pride for more than just the simple points of completing a job.. but now there’s a barrier between them, a hazy fog as if it’s his mind’s best attempt at separating the man before him from the boy he had known. “You’re playing a strategy game, Jack. Pieces all lined up across the board, black and white .. just like chess. But the thing about chess .. is that the pawns always die. Are you ready for that?”

#spynorth #&. verse. don’t have anything in your life you can’t walk away from in a second ( modern / main. ) #&. arc. london calling to the underworld ( modern / london multiverse. ) #okay so once you're ready to return to lucas i'm happy to talk about whether we want to end things here or keep going #but this confrontation is just soooooo good i had to revisit and reply to it #jack hates his guts and it's so good i love it lmao

[trickstercaptain]

       Shifting the focus to Killian was an adept method of changing the subject, yes, but a disturbing fact remained: that Jack was genuinely curious what was next for Killian Jones after this. Presuming they survived, and that was maybe the comforting fantasy to live in right at this moment. That their growing-more-harebrained-by-the-day scheme to topple Cutler Beckett would actually succeed and not blow up in their own — and the people they cared about, people involved in this thanks to them — faces. That there was a future after this and... and that this thing with John wasn't simply a way of kidding himself into believing it.

       However, that didn't mean Jack had to approve of the disgustingly romantic image Killian had pictured for himself and Guy. “ No, you're not. ” Yet the over-acted look of disgust as Jack glanced away at their surroundings, being sure to keep at least half of his brain focused on the task in hand, vanished as his companion continued. This apparently really was a night for a heart to heart, wasn't it? His seemingly tacit approval for his relationship with John elicited a small smile into the darkness, but Jack's expression faltered as Killian continued. He let the praise wash over him and, though certainly not intended as such, it felt hollow.

       You've done a good thing, Jack. An impressive thing. I think my ego could handle dying for that. Was this really so impressive, so good? It was no white knight complex that had brought him back to London those months ago. It was ego and pride, proving to a man like Cutler Beckett that, even all these years later, he wasn't so easily swatted away — and kept away — like a pesky fly hovering over dinner. It was revenge, the thought of seeing his smug face contorted with pain and anger as his entire life's work was taken away from him. How much of this was because he cared about the people that Beckett had hurt, and how much of it was because he was a proud and stubborn bastard?

       Jack noticed the same flicker in the shadows as Killian did and, while grateful for the distraction, it didn't dispel the troubling thoughts completely. “ A date where? ” he said absently, still focused on the shadows. What they were waiting for. It had to be. “ Actually, don't tell, me, I'll figure it out and how to sabotage it in the morning. ” A quick glance — and a sardonic smile — directed at his companion before Jack slowly rose to his feet, straining to try and make out the movement in the distance. “ Can't have you thinking I'm a good person and mistakenly put that on my file at the Met. ”

The dance is one easily learned, a careful maneuver of half truths veiled by inflated arrogance and an Irishman’s incessant pride, but tonight something different lingers in the air, that prickling sensation of a long fought battle almost finished. Maybe he’s mad for thinking they’re close to toppling the fortress that is Cutler Beckett, maybe entertaining any hope of it at all is the biggest lie he’s fed himself yet.. but blue eyes linger on the faint silhouette of a half finished ship in the distance and ringed fingers curl in on themselves as if fighting the instinct to reach out to a victory so close that he can almost grab it. A snort of a laugh passes through rough lips at Jack’s jest and Killian flashes the other man a rare (and well earned) smile. “Aye, you’re probably right about that, yeah?”

Teeth chew at the inside of one cheek as the silence stretches between them, ears half attuned to the answer and resulting question that Sparrow throws his way. It would be easy to lie, aye, to make some quip about Jack being in a hurry to chase John away by subjecting him to close confines on a bloody boat… but instead the detective offers a simple shrug, shifting where he sits. “I don’t know really. Try to find something else to blame for the chip on my shoulder…maybe ask Guy to marry me. We can be one of those drop dead gorgeous celebrity couples that the papers go on about, famous for doing nothing more than existing. I’m pretty enough for it.” There’s a grin playing about his mouth, a sharp glint of amusement that catches the glow from the faint lights in forget-me-not blues… and before the Irishman can stop them, words he had long hoped to keep secret are slipping past a momentarily unlocked door.

“It wouldn’t, you know. Send a strongly worded letter, I mean.” The truth of it is heavy on his tongue, a weight of confession that Killian Jones is normally loathe to admit to, but they’ve seen so many near misses the last few months, seen so much bloody death…that he feels like it needs to be said lest he lose his chance. “You make John happy, mate. Won’t even bloody pretend to understand why, but you do … and I guess that’s enough for me. This - ” Ringed fingers gesture vaguely as the Irishman lets out a huff of breath akin to a sigh. “ - what you’re doing, what you’ve started… it’s something that the rest of us should have stood up for long ago. I’m gonna hate myself for saying it in the morning, but … bloody hell…you’ve done a good thing, Jack. An impressive thing. I think my ego could handle dying for that.” There’s a beat of silence as blue gaze catches movement in the shadows and the muscle along the line of Killian’s jaw twitches in anticipation. “Let’s not test that tonight though, aye? I have a date tomorrow and it took me for bloody ever to come up with the tickets for it.”

#piraticalwit #&. verse. don’t have anything in your life you can’t walk away from in a second ( modern / main. ) #&. arc. london calling to the underworld ( modern / london multiverse. ) #it's funny because i wrote this and then went back to the tags on your original reply where you said the date was the abba experience #and now i have this image of jack trying to sabotage the abba experience for them both lmaooo #but listen ? despite jack's moral misgivings about himself ? this feels like progress ???? right ???? #the assholes are growing on each other. like mould

[trickstercaptain]

various things spoken in an adventuring party pt.2

part 2 of an assortment of quotes and sayings i've found doom scrolling through pinterest that i think an adventuring party would say during their never ending perilous adventures . please do not copy/repost or add to this list, thank you!

Affectionate ❛ i am in love with an idiot ❜ ❛ i’d be his if he asked  ❜ ❛ even your rage is beautiful  ❜ ❛ there’s still good in you  ❜ ❛ my darling, you will never be unloved by me ❜ ❛ you are too well tangled in my soul  ❜

Questions ❛ are you a monster or a victim?  ❜ ❛ can anyone betray anyone?  ❜ ❛ who in the fuck authorized this?  ❜ ❛ where do you purchase your audacity from? ❜ ❛ why is everyone in this kingdom so gods damned stupid?  ❜ ❛ if you don’t terrify people a little bit, then what’s the point? ❜

Banter ❛ people can do worse things than kill you  ❜ ❛ gods help anyone who dares to disrespect me/you  ❜ ❛ magic always comes with a price  ❜ ❛ the gods love to fuck with us  ❜ ❛ i’ve got a spell for that  ❜ ❛ i do very bad things, and i do them very well  ❜

Tragedy ❛ anyone can betray anyone ❜ ❛ not all of us are going to make it out alive ❜ ❛ i was once a child with innocent eyes ❜ ❛ i remember all of them ❜ ❛ i’ve been having a bad day for the past several years ❜ ❛ a golden cage is still just a cage ❜

Fierce ❛ what i did, i did for us ❜ ❛ if they touch you, i’ll break their necks ❜ ❛ it appears that you have mistaken my dislike of causing harm as an inability to do so. ❜ ❛ you are divine violence ❜ ❛ burn it all. ❜ ❛ i am so much more than you told me i was ❜

Antagonistic ❛ lets cause a little trouble ❜ ❛ i think you’re caught between who you are and who you want to be ❜ ❛ tell me what it’s like to conquer  ❜ ❛ you’re a little tragedy, aren’t you? ❜ ❛ disrespectfully, i decline  ❜ ❛ with all due respect, which is none- ❜

Neutral ❛ there’s bravery in being soft ❜ ❛ the trees told me about you ❜ ❛ i do not care for your god. ❜ ❛ if i can still breathe, i’m fine ❜ ❛ i’m nice as fuck. ❜

Comedic Relief ❛ do you mean to give me another one of your stoic nod? ❜ ❛ if you don’t want a sarcastic answer, don’t ask stupid questions ❜ ❛ i’ll get over it. i just need to be dramatic first. ❜ ❛ what’s your favorite pastime? mine is reckless behavior ❜ ❛ i’m definitely the nicest asshole you could ever hope to meet ❜ ❛ i wanna contribute to the chaos ❜ ❛ we can’t giggle, we’re at a crime scene! ❜ ❛ the nonsense has escalated ❜ ❛ go stand over there. your existence is giving me a headache ❜ ❛ being smart has never stopped me from being a complete fucking idiot. ❜

BONUS FROM THE HERO TO THE VILLAIN ❛ you took everything from me ❜ ❛ haven’t you taken enough from me? ❜ ❛ go ahead. underestimate me. that’ll be fun. ❜ ❛ touch me and you’ll burn ❜ ❛ the reports of my death have been greatly exaggerated ❜ FROM THE VILLAIN TO THE HERO ❛ don’t bleed on my floors ❜ ❛ people will never bleed enough to fulfill your vision of justice ❜ ❛ i am the child/daughter/son of a king who forgot my name ❜ ❛ i am the end of all things; i have drunk the blood of kings. ❜ ❛ congratulations, you have survived! ❜

#&. i hadn't planned on not sparing your life but i'm willing to listen to offers ( meme. ) #i'm actually in drafts for once idk love me ? lmao

[trickstercaptain]

🐝  *  ―  𝑫𝑰𝑭𝑭𝑬𝑹𝑬𝑵𝑻 𝑾𝑨𝒀𝑺 𝑻𝑶 𝑲𝑰𝑺𝑺 𝑺𝑶𝑴𝑬𝑶𝑵𝑬.

[ peck ] a quick, light kiss on the partner's lips or cheek [ french ] a deep, passionate kiss with the use of tongue [ forehead ] a gentle kiss on the partner's forehead, conveying care and affection [ spiderman ] an upside-down kiss, just like in the movie [ mistletoe ] a playful or romantic kiss under a mistletoe [ hand ] a chivalrous kiss on the back of the partner's hand [ lingering ] a long, slow kiss filled with emotion and desire [ neck ] a kiss or gentle sucking on the partner's neck [ nape ] a kiss placed at the nape of the partner's neck [ teasing ] a light brushing of lips against a partner's skin without fully kissing [ earlobe ] a light nibble on the partner's earlobe [ tango dip ] a kiss shared while one partner is dipped backward [ celebration ] a joyful and exuberant kiss to celebrate an achievement or milestone [ stolen ] a quick, stealthy, and impromptu kiss snatched in secret [ bite ] a playful kiss that involves some light biting [ goodbye ] a heartfelt kiss when parting, showing affection and fondness [ rain ] a romantic kiss in the rain [ scars ] a gentle kiss on the partner's scar(s) [ injury ] a careful kiss on a partner's wound to make it all better [ wedding ] a romantic kiss shared during a wedding ceremony [ comfort ] a tender kiss to provide comfort or reassurance [ sunset ] a kiss shared during sunset, often romantic and serene [ butterfly ] a light fluttering of eyelashes against the partner's skin [ seductive ] a deep, slow, and deliberately intense kiss filled with passion and desire [ shoulder ] a tender kiss on the partner's shoulder [ knuckles ] a kiss on each individual knuckle of the partner [ slow motion ] a kiss in slow motion, accentuating every moment and sensation [ reunion ] a longing kiss shared after being apart for a while [ passionate ] an intense and fiery kiss, expressing raw desire and strong emotion [ underwater ] a kiss shared while submerged in water [ wrist ] a tender kiss on the inside of the partner's wrist [ wake up ] a loving kiss to wake the partner up [ apology ] a kiss offered as a way to apologize or make amends [ hummingbird ] a series of light, rapid, and fluttery kisses on a small area [ trail ] a trail of kisses along the partner's jawline or collarbone [ blowing ] a kiss in the air and send of the gesture towards the partner [ surprise ] a sudden kiss to catch the partner off guard [ hickey ] a kiss that's supposed to leave a mark on the partner's skin [ single lip ] a sucking or nibbling of one of the partner's lips [ nose ] an affectionate gesture where partners rub their noses together

#&. i hadn't planned on not sparing your life but i'm willing to listen to offers ( meme. )

[trickstercaptain]

one day i will post jack's got tricked into a fey pact with calypso making him a warlock/rogue hybrid, worked for gortash, got branded with infernal script which got cancelled out by said fey pact, has a long lost boyfriend stuck in the shadowlands bg3 verse in its entirety but for now dropping the unhinged abridged version on the dash is more fun lmao

#&. don’t ever insult captain jack sparrow in front of me ( ooc. ) #he has A Lot going on as per usual

[trickstercaptain]

       Billy spoke his name, and the wave of memory was so strong that Jack almost drowned in it, pulling him back to a time far simpler than this. The pair of them on a beach, grains of sand in their hair, the sun beating down on their skin. Jack rolling his eyes and trying not to act impressed as Billy sparred with their crewmates, showing off his physical prowess. The quieter moments when it was just the two of them, skin on skin, Billy's voice in Jack's ear. Jack's name on Billy's lips, a sound that he thought he'd never hear again. Memories that, for him, had happened years ago, but were still recent for his companion. How must it have felt to return to a world that had moved on without him in his absence? It was why, despite hearing Billy say the words ( it's not your fault ), Jack still felt the pang of guilt deep in his gut. He couldn't have known where Billy was this whole time, he knew that, but the fact that he'd been here, alive, just asleep, kept under a curse... it was hard not to think about what might have been avoided if he'd found him earlier.

       However memory soon turned to indignation. Of course Billy had to start things off this way. Of course he had to go and say something idiotic. As if being left by someone he cared about with no explanation whatsoever after some entity had possessed him and tried to do him harm hadn't somehow fucked him up along the way. The frustration flickered briefly in Jack's eyes as he looked down at Billy on his stool, but he spoke calmly. Frankly. “ No. No, I didn't. ” He'd had plenty of time to reflect on the reasons why Billy had felt the need to leave, but it had been a choice. His hand was not forced. Jack had felt angry about that for some time, and the ghost of the feeling returned to him now, but with a steady exhale he managed to exorcise it. “ We can't get the time back, and I'm not going to blame you... but I wish you'd told me. If you thought any of that would have mattered to me, if you thought any of it was the strangest thing I'd ever seen or dealt with, even back then... ” He trailed off, covering up the thickness in his voice by forcing a smile, and a shrug. “ Who knows. I could have helped. ”

billy has always felt like a ghost, like there were remenants of the human he was. that it refused to evaporate along with everything surrounding him, something within him tied him to this place. to living, but billy doesn't know what is it to live. properly, that is. he's never known how. and waking up, finding out how long it's been, how 15 had passed so fast. without him. and he certainly did not want to talk, he thinks the world might've been better off if he had stayed asleep. half dead, dead in the parts that matter. dead as in everyone else would be safe, dead as in billy wouldn't have to carry this on his shoulders.

he doesn't know how to feel about it all. he hears jack speak, and he stops what he's doing, just looks up at him from where he's sitting down. a face he recognizes, a face he knows, knew, if he were to squint he could put the puzzle back together. and it makes him feel out of place, even more when it took them this long to even start talking. and i thought you were dead. and in a way he was. it's no ones fault. it's not. jack's fault, it's not billy's fault that billy's haunted, cursed even. billy let's a breath out, in a huff, half laughing. like billy would intentionally leave jack, like he wouldn't give it his all to have never left and, well that's a lie. billy had to leave, and billy was ready to die and he did. sort of. and jack, he has to know.

"jack..." he starts, because the name feels easy on the lips, easier than anything else in this situation. rolls off, like it's meant to be said by him. "...it's not your fault." he points out. because it is obvious. because things didn't go to plan. because nothing ever does for billy. looks at him when he says it, "i'm glad you did." and it's not a lie, burns like one, leaves his lips easy like one, not in a way he appreciates. he feels a hole, in the middle of him. no one put it there. jack moved on and he had to. "-i'm glad i didn't fuck up your life." and he means that too. billy doesn't know how to feel. he missed out. fucked up his own life, and isn't she content, in fucking up the only good thing he had going for him. "you know i had to leave, right? you know that i couldn't stay. that i couldn't say anything either." he goes back to trying to focus on the wood carving, throws it to the ground, along with his knife. and, really looks at jack, waits for an answer.

#hargrovetm #&. verse. touched by the fey and wanted by the hells ( bg3 / dnd. ) #all's good all's fine i'm fine are u fine rat ? #not having a breakdown over this nope no way

[trickstercaptain]

       What the fuck was he even doing here? A few months ago, the mental picture of himself, sat in one of Scotland Yard's many offices, talking frankly to a detective inspector about Lord Cutler Beckett, of all people, he'd have laughed his brain into oblivion. But one absurd alliance with Killian Jones later, the proverbial lion's den was exactly where Jack had ended up, having been sent here to... talk to one of Jones's colleagues. He supposed the fact that he'd trusted this man enough to tell him the whole story was meant to speak to his character, but Jack could only see another wet sop of a detective fumbling his way through dismissing their entire case. How was he, a known criminal and someone on this institution's watch list, meant to convince this poor, law-abiding, tax-paying man that the very cornerstone of British society was corrupt? It was a waste of time.

       “ Not willing to stake your career on, but still wanted to hear the whole sorry conspiracy theory for yourself, hm? ” Jack fixed the man with a knowing look. He supposed being laughed out of the Met's headquarters was a better outcome than being arrested on the spot. Jack sighed, leaning back in his chair as if this was already a battle lost. “ Is it so ridiculous? Money can open all sorts of doors, and what was this country's prosperity founded on if not the systemic exploitation of others masqueraded behind a civilised veneer? ” Jack paused. Perhaps that was a little too piercing a comment for a building like this one.

       “ Look, mate. ” One last ditch appeal and then he was out of here, with a strongly worded text in Killian's direction at being subjected to this embarrassing ordeal. “ I know what that man is up to — maybe not so clearly now, but I worked for him a decade ago. He's not changed. He's just gotten cleverer. Gotten his peerage, bribed the right people, made allies of others. Made it unthinkable to think that he's anything other than an upstanding paragon of virtue and generosity. It has to be hard to believe, otherwise he'd have gotten found out long ago. ” He hesitated on the next part, resisting the urge to be sick in his mouth a little at the thought. “ Jones has a personal stake in this, as do I... but you know what might help us out? An objective, impartial third party. ”

Fingers run a nervous pattern along the sides of a half-full glass, little twists and turns meant to straighten something that refuses to be righted. The brandy has not helped, has done nothing but sit like a heavy boulder in the pit of his stomach, entangling the warm weaves of his thoughts into an all but tighter web... and the detective lets out a huff of breath akin to a sigh. "I've read what he's showed me, listened as well.... but it's all a bit ..." Teeth draw a bottom lip back between them and Joe furrows his brows, remembering a similar visit just ten days prior. Detective Inspector Jones had sounded like a bloody lunatic, had used the fingers of his one hand to point angrily at the current case sprawled across an entirely too neat whiteboard and demand whether or not solving one murder was more important than possibly solving thousands.... and the younger man had simply blinked at him for a moment, stupefied into silence before finally giving his answer.

Reality is always more important than delusions... no matter how complex they might be..

Now, eyes the color of ocean water study the other man's expression, fingers abandoning the glass to instead pluck with a renewed sense of purpose at the edge of his stapler, perfectly aligned with the angle of his desk... and Joe gives a soft sigh at the crossroads where he's suddenly found himself. He doesn't believe the likes of Killian Jones for a moment - the picture the other man had drawn was of a battle that had been lost before it had even truly begun... and if the corruption truly went as deep as they all believed, then only a madman would begin to unearth it. And yet...

"D.I Jones isn't exactly someone I'm willing to stake my career on, Mr. Sparrow. I'm sorry. As it stands, the most I can do is guarantee none of this ever leaves my office. If you know of someone more .. credible... or have something yourself, I'll try to help in anyway I can. But, really, it's a bit mad isn't it? I mean .. someone like Lord Beckett successfully getting his fingers into everything, including MI5? That's ridiculous."

@trickstercaptain s.c

#detectivechandler #&. verse. don’t have anything in your life you can’t walk away from in a second ( modern / main. ) #&. arc. london calling to the underworld ( modern / london multiverse. ) #oh but this also has the potential to be so fun lmao #joe are you ready to be caught in the middle of these two idiots #LUCAS I LOVE OUR THINGS SO MUCH

[trickstercaptain]

       Bag in hand, Jack clambered into the waiting taxi, shuffling over to the furthest seat in order to allow Lucas to join him inside. Fully prepared for an hour long journey through city traffic in complete silence ( after all, what did the pair actually have to talk about? ), Jack had already opened the bag that had been ceremoniously shoved into his grasp and was rummaging around inside for any other cool gadgets that Lucas and Beckett had trusted him with. Sadly, Lucas was no Q; the only things inside were some seemingly important documents that Jack had decided he would maybe read on the plane ( or not at all ), and a set of clothes that were the most abhorrent thing he'd ever laid eyes on. The life of espionage really was as glamorous as the movies made it out to be. But, so engrossed he was in judging the pair of corduroy trousers that presumably were going to belong to his alter ego, Louis, that Jack didn't expect Lucas to actually speak to him. Or attempt to make conversation — even if this sounded like another patronising warning.

       Jack regarded him, half-tempted to rise to the bait, but he thought better of it, letting a blank look settle on his features instead. “ I actually think my French is pretty good for a non-native speaker, thank you. ” Rabid dog. As if. “ I had a friend who taught me. Well. He wasn't really a friend. ” Probably best that he finish that particular thought right there.

       Finally bored of the bag, Jack placed it down next to his feet. This whole trip really was going to be hell for company. When his companion spoke again, Jack turned to him, arching a brow. “ Is that what you tell yourself when you're swanning around in the south of France, sweating through your collared shirt because you've never not worn a suit in your whole life, even when you're off the clock, watching all the holidaymakers on the beach thinking "oh, if only I could indulge, but they're playing bingo in the hotel lounge at 3 and I can't afford to miss it."? ”

Jack’s smile, as practiced as it may be, does nothing to hide the rebellion that lingers in shadowed eyes .. and Lucas frowns slightly, wondering what the end of their misadventure will hold. He dreams sometimes, dozes through half closed lids as thoughts shimmer in the air before him. The images change, follow different paths depending on his mood and the day’s work…but the ending is the same…A tangle of limbs, a mess of yells and one of them left lying on the ground. Sometimes it’s his protege who lays still and unmoving, shades of blue surrounding the swollen lips of his corpse and mottled skin in the shake of fingertips decorating the sensitive skin of his throat. Lucas staggers from that image, even when it’s nothing but a dream… Finds some corner on the edge of his memory and howls like the beast that Cutler Beckett has shaped him into. He prefers the others, prefers the ones where a shot rings loud and sharp, echoing off warehouse wall.. prefers when it’s him falling to the floor, a crimson stain he can’t quite grasp slipping through fingers that clutch at the fabric of his shirt.

It’s easier that way. That careful dance of following orders while letting Jack live. He tries not to watch the way the other man’s eyes burn with hate, that despairing judgment…. You don’t know. At least this way you can live.

The sharp retort breaks through such thoughts and Lucas feels himself grin, unable to stifle the small flame of affection that refuses to wink out of existence.. but the flash of teeth is gone before it even quite begins, chased by a feigned furrow of brows as Sparrow pushes past him. His strides are lazy, half hearted things as he follows his companion to their waiting cab and though the hollow of his chest is full of things he wants to say, wants to confess… all he offers is a quirk of a brow and an implacable expression as he waits for Jack to get inside. Fingers tug at the collar of his shirt, voice a low rumble flavored with boredom as the car begins to move.

“ You signed up for this, whatever the reason. Don’t start acting like a rabid dog unless you’re ready for the ending that usually awaits one.” Weight shifts as he pulls the mobile from his pocket, blue eyes flicking over it carelessly. Nothing. Well done, for once. “Cheer up, Jack. This job can be fun if you’re not too busy whinging about it.”

#spynorth #&. verse. a thin moon me in a smoke screen sky ( modern / young. ) #dkfgjdfhgjkf he's literally such an asshole i'm crying #this thread will henceforth be known as lucas's car journey from hell #because he's stuck there with a 22 year old jack sparrow who thinks he knows everything lmaooo

[trickstercaptain]

jack when he's around a girl he likes: pushes their buttons, pigtail pulling, generally acts like a playful menace jack when he's around a boy he likes: haughty af, femme fatale, plays very hard to get, somehow makes the object of his affection do all the pursuing

#&. he plays things closer to the vest now ( headcanon. ) #i've posted this before but it always amuses me lmao #jack will chase a girl but never ever chase a boy #chasing boys is beneath him frankly

[trickstercaptain]

       Oh, he was in for it now. First the jab of a finger into his shirt, and then the twisting of her fist in the fabric — though Jack remained smirking through it all, in a way that he was sure made him even more punchable in that moment. He couldn't help it; Hera was fun to mess with. Pushing her buttons was fun and she didn't seem to object to it either. It was harmless. But when she yanked him down to meet her height, something else took over. Something about the tone of her voice, the distance of her lips to his face. He'd never doubted it, but now he knew for sure: she knew what she was doing, too. Jack cocked his head to the side, letting his dark eyes linger on her face. “ You make that sound... kind of appealing. ” His brow arched, as if inviting the possibility of... whatever this was. It was her move.

her brows raise as her eyes narrow in a stern stare ────── green flames licking from her eyes... back arches off the wall as leans forward to jab a firm and accusing finger into his chest. " don't. you. dare! " she squeals, grin remaining on her lips despite the severity of her warning ― long had she forgotten now whatever it was that ailed her, relishing instead in the girlish glee she feels in his shadow. finger twists into a grasp, a fistful of cotton tugging him off the wall and down to her petite form where she teases with a sultry whisper: " do it...and i'll hunt you down, jack ― i swear i will. "

#khrused #&. verse. a thin moon me in a smoke screen sky ( modern / young. ) #&. arc. you're great just the way you are ( young / moordale. ) #honey how long til they're making out in the old toilet block dfgkjdf

[trickstercaptain]

i'm very low energy this week but i kinda want to poke at jack over the next week or so, so maybe like this post if we're mutuals and i'll hop in your inbox with a meme or something random ?

#&. don’t ever insult captain jack sparrow in front of me ( ooc. ) #don't get me wrong jack is always There in the back of my head #but i want to actually give him some love this upcoming week :')