#bolt watches potc

[boltlightning]

[sepublic]

So Jay was a pirate at one point and Skybound leaned into Pirates of the Caribbean references, plus Jaya being a pivotal plot point for that season. And Nya literally became the sea.

Imagine some PotC-adjacent AU where Jaya is like Davy Jones and Calypso; Nya became the sea, Jay grieved and became a pirate to be closer to her. Maybe seized command of the Sky Pirates so he would be in his element as well, the stormy skies intertwined with the ocean below through rain. He figured out a way to restore Nya's human form, at the cost of her powers, so he could see her again; But Nya was unhappy because as the ocean, she was so free and released from all burdens. She hoped Jay would love her as the sea and not just her human form. Maybe Jay already saw Nya's decision to become one with the sea as a betrayal.

They split apart, both broken-hearted. Jay and his crew roamed the skies, watching the sea from afar but not quite making contact. Being surrounded by his element also caused his body to change; A storm cloud with lightning bolts resembling an octopus' tentacles, a familiar image to some...

Nya resigned herself to a new life, living as a witch dabbling in potions and magic. Always yearning for the sea and to return to it, but never quite able to achieve that freedom. Mourning her love. Yet she cannot help but be appalled by the monster her lover has become. She has become more estranged from her true self than she has ever been, and it has been agony for Nya in many ways.

Or maybe they’re gods of the sky and sea who can never touch one another, save for when the sea sends water up to come back down as rain. The water cycle is their little gift to one another… The lighthouse in middle of the ocean is the one place they can sometimes meet, or have met.

[johnbly]

20 questions for fic writers

tagged by the @boltlightning the myth the legend

1. how many total works do you have on ao3? 31

2. what’s your total ao3 word count? 137,304

3. what fandoms do you write for? mostly potc, but i did toss out that one roland fic the other day. also at some point hornblower and his dragon will be published. i promise bolt. i will not abandon justinian. he also likely wouldn't allow me to anyways. he is likely just outside my window at this very second

(putting it the rest under a cut as this is a bit long)

4. what are your top 5 fics by kudos?

a birthday dinner for two (tears of themis)

i would do it again (tot)

partners in everything (tot)

party in the mansion (fe3h)

learning to trust (fe3h)

of the five, learning to trust is definitely my favorite and the one that i think actually deserves the kudos. like not that the others are bad but tot is up there because of fandom popularity and then the other 3h once was for an exchange

5. do you respond to comments? usually!

6. what is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? i was gonna put one of the potc fics here but it feels more bittersweet than angsty so i'll return to my hubert and edelgard pov azure moon fic that i remembered from last time (our paths end here)

7. what's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? i'm p sure last time i did this one i did one of my tot fics which makes sense bc they're basically the only happy ones but i don't think i'd published this one yet? who knows. anyways partners in everything

8. do you get hate on fics? thankfully no but i did get a somewhat rude one that one time

9. do you write smut? only fade to black here and i don't think i've ever posted any of that anyways. don't hold your breath on this changing but also if you're following me expecting that kind of content to begin with you are. in the wrong place

10. do you write crossovers? what's the craziest one you've written? i don't usually but i have done hockey aus for two separate fandoms (3h & pb) so there's that. i wouldn't consider that too crazy though

11. have you had a fic stolen? / 12. have you had a fic translated? / 13. have you ever co-written a fic? keeping these stuck together with a no for me as well. i did do a back and forth writing thing with a former friend but that was for a personal project

14. what's your all-time favorite ship? i am not really a big shipper! i went through my charmed tag the other day so i guess i can say piper/leo bc i was very into them when i was watching. if we can extend ship to being not necessarily romantic then we all know that The Horny Lads have rewritten my brain

15. what's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? great question! i can't think of any bc if i don't think i'll ever finish a wip i likely. don't want to finish it

16. what are your writing strengths? i'm good with dialogue especially banter and since i refuse to write fics where i can't get into the head of the pov character i'd like to think my characterization is solid

17. what are your writing weaknesses? society if i could describe things without suffering. i will blame the aphantasia

18. thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? i'm not sure i've given it much thought since i haven't done it before. i'd def be scared of messing something up

19. first fandom you wrote for? my first ao3 fic was for pb but i know i did fics before that. i'm gonna guess hp since that was my first fandom

20. favorite fic you've written? look i have to hype this fic up bc it has an audience of like five people but i put a lot of love and time into my fernand character study (the fallen knight)

i tag @writingbyricochet (not sure how much fanfic/ao3 you do since your blog is mostly original worksso feel free to ignore this/adapt as needed) and @philcoulsonismyhero and whoever else wants to do this!

[a-clowns-words]

Future bkdk but their life relaxes so much that it turns into a sitcom. One day they surprise visit Inko and Midoriya walks in on her and Toshinori (they weren't even doing anything, they were just kissing) and he just runs to his old bedroom, screaming like a banshee because he got one glimpse and assumed the worst before turning and bolting.

He runs past Bakugou who was raiding Inko's fridge so he could make dinner and he just watches as Midoriya sprints by, before opening a bottle of liquor he brought with him and taking a swig right from the bottle. "Another day at the Midoriya household."

For added bonus points they live across from Bakugou's parents.

-potc anon

SITCOM AU LMFAO

[descendantofthesparrow]

Shuffle Playlist - Rewrite - Part of Your World - Part 11 - James Hook

(first gif is supposed to be harriet fighting, dunno if it comes across) also lots of Gifs here srry

Warning!  Graphic depiction of violence!

(a/n): i suggest reading this by listening to the potc sound track starting with “the black pearl” https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mP-BeFi58tQ&list=PL263677A4D1B673E4&index=3 )

=

Jay blearily opened his eyes, groaning at the soft beam of sun that was blinding him. He quickly sat up as the printer beeped and the wand was only seconds away from being finished. “Carlos” he muttered, smacking his arm when he didn’t respond “Carlos!”

Carlos snorted as he snapped awake, glaring at Jay before his eyes drifted to the now just finished wand. They slowly stood from their chairs, Carlos opening the printer and grabbing the wand. Carlos turned the wand in his hands, pursing his lips in an impressed pout as the wand was seamlessly perfect. “not bad”

Jay nodded, slipping the phony wand from Carlos’ grip and into his own, nodding towards the door “let's go, its” he checked Carlos’ phone, which read 10:45 am “shit come on, I’d rather be just a bit earlier than be late and risk losing Ben” Carlos nodded, about to walk out the door with Jay when he remembered your plan.

He turned back, whistling for Dude “Come on buddy, you’re gonna help!” Dude barked with an excited yip and barreled off his bed, bolting out the door and to the main area, waiting for the boys. “come on what are we waiting for!” Carlos and Jay shared a look and rolled their eyes, following after Dude.

They made it outside, Jay quickly hiding the wand behind his back as Doug came up to them “Hey guys, have you seen Evie….or anyone else for that matter?” Jay and Carlos shared a panicked look before Carlos quickly came up with an excuse.

“They went camping” Doug raised his brow, extremely confused.

“Evie…camping? Evie, I want to live in a castle? Sleeping on the ground with no place to plug in a hairdryer?” Carlos just shrugged.

“Hey, isle kid remember? none of us are against doing that. But (y/n) and Evie decided to plan a last-minute stress reliever trip before cotillion, VKs only thing” Doug crossed his arms, his eyes showing a bit of hurt “aaand (y/n) is there cuz she's an honorary vk, and you weren’t invited because Evie needed you to man her shop here, she must’ve forgotten to tell you, but we’ll be back by tonight!” Jay nodded, slightly impressed by Carlos’ swift bullshiting skill.

Doug sighed and nodded “Alright then… see you guys tonight” he passed by the boys and walked into the dorm building. “Later Doug” Jay laughed, giving Carlos a look as they turned to go back to the limo, groaning a bit as they were stopped again and hid the wand behind his back.

Lonnie smirked at them, tossing one of her braided twin tails behind her shoulder.

“I’m coming with you” Jay laughed, waving off Lonnie’s request.

“whaa, we don’t need swords at the” Lonnie gave him a look “waffle hut?” Carlos slowly turned his head to Jay, his eyes wide in disbelief.

Wait wasn't-? Oh yeah! “ yeah, you can come” Carlos covered Jay's mouth as he tried to object “(y/n) said we would need an extra hand remember? And she said to let Lonnie come when she asked?” Jay stopped, closing his eyes as he realized his minor brain fart. He tossed Carlos’ hand off his mouth and nodding to where they had the limo parked.

“I’m an idiot, come on, we got no time to waste” Lonnie squealed in excitement and tossed her arms around their necks, babbling away about the upcoming battle.

-

You looked down at the messily drawn blueprints of James Hook’s ship, eyes drawn to the brig where Harry was being kept. “Alright let's go over this one last time!” Harriet sighed, her crew all gathered around you, Harriet, and Gil “We storm the ship, you all keep my dad's crew busy by fighting them and sending in the smoke bombs, while (y/n) goes for Harry, and as soon as Harry’s off the ship we retreat. And do not hesitate to take any of them down. Understood?” the crew nodded in agreement, the plan was set and was ready to be put in motion. Harriet let them go mull around until you were all ready to go. She turned to you, raising her brow as you stared at the outline of the captain's quarters. “what's up?”

“He’ll be on the ship when we raid right?” you muttered, fingers drifting over the metal of Harry’s hook that rested in your hands.

“aye?” Harriet answered, placing her hands on her hips and tilting her head “which is why we gotta be careful, he may be a drunk but even when he’s pissed for shit, he’s a damn good swordsman.” She stared at you as you just nodded and started muttering something to yourself “what are you planning girly?” you glanced up at her, giving her a reassuring, but terrifying smirk.

“you’ll see”

-

You, Gil, Harriet, and Xiaohui were crouched on top of the nearest building to the jolly roger, Xiaohui put down her telescope and turned to Harriet “all crew members are on deck captain, the plan is ready to proceed” Harriet nodded and took the hand-held scope from Xiaohui and looked down at the ship for herself.

“Good, if all goes according to plan, we should be able to defeat the crew and get harry out of there within ten minutes” you glanced at Harriet's pocket watch that hung off her belt, mentally groaning a bit as it read; 11:45 am. You hoped to get this done in time for you and Gil to get Harry to the limo safely.

And you wanted time to deal with a certain…backstabber.

“let's do this” Harriet muttered, watching her father go back into the captain's quarters. She handed the scope back to Xiaohui and put her fingers in her mouth, letting out a piercing whistle.

Within the moment of it, and Hook’s crew looking towards the building you and Harriet were on, several spray cans turned smoke bombs were hurdled onto the main deck, blinding James’ crew.

They all yelled in confusion as suddenly multiple footsteps surrounded them, the sound of swords being unsheathed made all of them leap back and draw their own weapon.

“Who’s there!” One of the men yelled, taking off his yellow cap and rubbing his eyes “You have no chance we-oop” as the smoke cleared, the crew took a step back, their eyes drawing wide as they realized they were outnumbered three to one. “Wha-Harriet?!” she smirked as she flipped her sword in her hand. “What are you doing?”

She didn’t bother to respond, letting out another whistle, and cackling as her crew rushed her father's men. She blocked a quick swing coming from the man with the yellow cap and spun around, deciding to end the mess for later quickly by slicing the back of his neck.

The man slumped to the ground leaving Harriet to move quickly towards the brig, eyes drifting to the captain's quarters.

“WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS!!” Harriet stopped, fear filling her chest as her father stepped out of his quarters, his eyes drifting over his crew and Harriet’s crew battling. “Harriet” he snarled, his cold blue eyes looking into hers “How dare you, you little brat!?” he raised his hook arm at her, his eyes flashing red, making Harriet step back “first your insolent brother, now you?! Must I teach you a lesson as well!?”

Harriet's crew quickly finished off James’ crew, their bodies slumping to the ground as blood pooled onto the deck. They lifted their swords in James' direction, ready to do anything to protect their captain.

“I think I have a lesson to teach you instead” James' eyes drifted to you, smirking as he realized just who you were as you unsheathed Harry’s sword and gripped onto his hook in your left hand.

“Ahh, the Auradon brat that turned my son into a pathetic Auradon lovesick bastard~” you rolled your eyes at the simple insult and flourished your sword.

“No, I just made your son realize he deserves better than an alcoholic abusive shit mongering asshole of a father.” you smirked as James’ eyes flashed red again “And if you don’t mind, I’m here to get my boyfriend, so-“ you waved Harry’s sword in a motion for him to move out of your way.

James chuckles and unsheathed his sword, shifting his feet as he prepared to fight “if you want him back” he smirked, slightly unnerved as you continued to look at him with an oddly calm look. “you’ll have to kill me, because unless I die, that boy will always be under my command, free for me to sell and ruin as I please”

Your brow twitched…this “man” didn’t deserve death, no..it was too easy for him…you had a better idea. “To the death, it will be!” James cackles, shifting back on his feet as he prepared to rush at you, stopping as you suddenly yelled out;

“No!” James, Harriet, and Gil looked at you in shock. What one moment you were itching to spill blood and the next you backed out? “To the pain.” James' shoulders dropped as he tried to rack through his brain to remember if he knew that term.

“I don’t think I’m familiar with that phrase” he muttered, eyeing Harriet for a moment then glaring back at you.

You smirked, tilting your head down, oh this was going to be fun~ “I’ll explain, and I’ll use small words so that you’ll be sure to understand, you warthog faced Buffon.” Harriet covered her mouth and snorted, looking down at her boots as her father glared at her.

He turned back to you, his eyes flashing red again “I think that is the first time anyone dared insult me” you raised your brow. really? The first time? Man, James really must be off his rocker if he had forgotten “codfish”

“It won't be the last” your eyes didn’t move from his, challenging him to try anything on you. “To the pain means the first thing you lose will be your feet below the ankles, then your other hand at the wrist, next your nose”

James rolled his eyes, taking a slight step back before stepping towards you “and then my tongue I suppose, I've let this go on for far too long-“

“I wasn’t finished” you yelled, enjoying the look of surprise on his face “the next thing you lose will be your left eye followed by your right”

James groaned and rolled his eyes again “and then my ears let's get on with it!” he growled as you smirked at him again and continued to talk.

“Wrong! Your ears you keep, and I’ll tell you why.” Harriet’s crew’s muttering went deadly silent as your voice dropped into a lower tone, shivers running down Harriet's spine as she realized just how far you were willing to go for her baby brother. “So that every shriek of every child of seeing your hideousness will be yours to cherish, every babe that weeps at your approach, every woman who cries out “dear god what is that thing!” will echo in your ears” James couldn’t move, his entire body was frozen in fear. You hadn’t blinked once during your speech, that unnerved him. “That. Is what to the pain means, it means I leave you in anguish, wallowing in freakish misery. Forever.”

The occupants of the main deck stared at you in deathly silence, all trying to detect any lies that came from you. But even Harriet, who could sniff out a lie faster than a bloodhound looking for its favorite treat, couldn’t detect any deceit from you.

James looked from you to Harriet with wide frightened eyes, before looking back at you “I think you’re bluffing” he tried, attempting to get you to back down. You shrugged, slowly closing your eyes and rolling your neck, making hook grit his teeth as he realized you hardly had any guard upon you. You thought you could easily take him, and that pissed him off, but his knees were shaking too much for him to take a single step towards you.

“It's possible pig. I might be bluffing” you opened your eyes and looked into James icy blue ones, smirking again at the fear you saw swirling inside. “it’s conceivable you miserable vomitous mass, I’m only standing here because you lack the courage to step forward”

James' eyes flashed red one last time as he screamed and ran at you, hook swinging back in preparation to slice into your neck. With a sidestep and a flourish of Harry’s sword, James’ arm dropped to the ground, the metal of the hook clanging as it hit the floor and ringing in everyone's ears.

James stared at his missing forearm, looked at you, and let out a piercing scream. “AAAAAAAAAAAAH YOU BITCH-“ You twisted back around and swung the tip of Harry’s sword just inches from James' neck, a small smirk on your face as you stared into James’ fear-filled eyes.

“drop.your.sword.” the entire deck was silent, watching as James reluctantly dropped his sword and took a step back from you.

You spun down into a crouch, arching Harry's blade against James' ankles and slicing them clean off, un-flinching as the substitute spray of blood hit your face.

Harriet and Gil gasped as they watched James fall to the floor with a loud thump, his screaming echoing off the buildings and water below. You slowly stood up and walked to his right side, flipping the blade again and hooking Harry's hook on your belt, tossing Harry’s sword to your now free hand and arching up, slicing off James' right arm.

He screamed again but was silenced as you kicked his side and placed your boot on his face, glaring down at him. “If I ever. Hear about you again, that’s not news that you finally choked and went to hell, I will personally, make sure you can't even tell from your ass to your face.” You kicked his head and took a heavy step on his chest and walked towards Harriet and Gil, nodding back towards James “if anyone else wants a crack at him, go for it, I have a pirate to save”

You cleaned Harry’s sword on a low hanging sail above you and sheathed it, walking towards the brig and grabbing the set of keys that were hanging off a hook next to the opening.

As your steps echoed off the old rotten wood walls, Harry sat up, unsure of the new footsteps that were walking towards him. He glanced at the opening with weary eyes.

You stepped into the small beam of light that was shining through the port window, your eyes brimming with tears as you looked at your poor wounded Harry that sat curled up in a damp dirty cell.

“(y-y/n)?” Harry whimpered, trying to sit up more but fell back “(y/n) yer really here?” a bright grin broke out on his bruised face, tears spilling from his eyes and trailing down his cheeks “Yeh came fer meh” his voice wavered as you rushed to open his cell.

You threw open the metal door and slid down in front of him on your knees, reaching up and gently cupping his face, minding the black bruises and reopened cutes “Oh my Harry, was there any ever doubt?” you sobbed, brushing his messy bangs out of his eyes and shaking your head. “Oh, I’m so sorry I took so long, but it took forever to get to Harriet's ship and- and the smoke bombs and-“ he reached up, cupping the back of your neck and beamed.

“Yer here now, that’s all tha’ matters ta me” he whispered, sniffing and wiping away your tears with his other hand. You stared into his bright ocean blue eyes, you couldn’t believe the amount of hope, trust, and love that was pouring from them.

“I love you harry” you sobbed, a soft smile appearing on your face as Harry’s cheeks and ears turned pink.

“I love yeh too” one moment you were staring into each other's eyes, the next your lips were pressed to his in a passionate kiss. Harry's arms wrapped around your back as you held onto his face, keeping him close as possible.

Your first kiss.

You pulled back for a moment, cracking your eyes open to see Harry's still closed, his lips just slightly parted as he took soft, yet fast-paced breaths. His eyes opened for a split moment, before you both leaned in slowly, lips pressing and moving together in a dance.

Harry let out a quiet sigh of happiness, hands drifting up to cup the back of your head and tilting his to deepen the kiss. You licked his lip carefully, smiling as he whimpered and happily opened his mouth.

‘no’ you thought, pressing one more kiss to his soft lips and pulling back, biting your lip at the whimper that followed as he chased you. ‘not the right time for that’

“Harry” you whispered, caressing his cheek gently with your thumb as he slowly opened his eyes, the blue slightly clouded with his running thoughts “Did anything…happen to you?”

He shook his head gently, heavily leaning his hand into your palm “no” he whispered “nev-never got ta’ tha’ no clients of da’s came, jus’ just beatin’s from the crew” you closed your eyes as you tried to keep calm, getting angry over something that was now over was pointless, right now Harry was priority.

“Thank fuck” you whispered back, leaning forward and wrapping your hands around his torso “okay, Harry, we have to go, I don’t how long we have before the others leave with the limo and I do not want to leave you here” he gave a clumsy nod and stood on wobbly legs with you.

“Gil!” you yelled, smiling a bit as he came running down to the brig “ carry him, and get back to the limo as fast as you can” he nodded, his arms going under Harry's torso and legs and lifting him into his arms in a princess carry. Harry lifted his head up and reached out to you. You smiled and grabbed his hand, pressing a kiss to his knuckles.

“I’ll be right next to you love; the limo is right next to where I need to go.” Gil raised his brow, turning to walk out of the brig with a limp harry in his arms.

“Go where?” Gil wished he hadn't asked as he looked back at you to see a sadistic grin on your face.

“I need to deal with a traitor”

-

Xiaohui watched as you, Gil, Harry, and Harriet ran off the Jolly Rodger and towards the garage under the old pier. She turned to the crew with an impressed look.

“I now have no reason to think I’m straight” Sammy facepalmed and shook his head.

“Bitch you said that when Harriet beat you in a fistfight” Xiaohui shrugged.

“eh, tomato-tomato”

-end of part 11-

HOLY FUCK THEY FINALLY KISSED and YAY Harry is saved~ hopefully, that kiss turned out good! I was lowkey fangirling when I re-read it. Also!!! I hope that “to the pain” part was good, I was also re-reading my first part of your world fic and I was like “hoooow did anyone read this?” but I think I did it justice!!! Next chapter! The fight for the wand! Oh and-

Davy’s demise~

permtaglist!!!

@queer-cosette @sephiralorange (thank you again for being my beta reader/person who deals with my midnight ramblings about this)

@lunanight2012 @daughter-of-the-stars11

@musicarose (and thank you for commissioning me for the first four parts of this! if it wasn't for you, i probably still wouldn't have written the first chapter of Rewrite p1!) @random-thoughts-003 @remembered-license

@rintheemolion @descendantsobsessed @verboetoperee

@imtryingthisout @thecaptainsgingersnap

and taglist for rewrite

@thesailbells @beccad10x​

oh! have this kinda sad “meme” i made because i found a thing on twitter

[thestrangebeingyouarent]

HAI EL DARLING lightening bolt, bident and ogygia 😈🥰

HAI JO SWEETHEART Lightning Bolt: What are your top three favorite movies?

ehm, that’s a hard oneee, im just going to answer like how i feel right now in this moment, because otherwise i cannot choose 1. captain america; the winter soldier (buckybuckybucky), 2. potc series (meaning 1 to 3, cuz 4 & 5 are kinda shit), 3. the addams family values (thats part 2)

(i know thats technically 5 movies, but whatever)

Bident: What is your favorite way to spend free time?

(would it be too cliche to say listening parties??) writing, listening to music, reading and honestly just watching series and movies.

Ogygia: Describe your dream husband/wife/life partner?

ohmygod that’s difficult though. just someone i can laugh with, have serious (sirius haha,,,,, damn im lame) talk with, supportive person, has to love bucky (this is joking,,,,,,, sort off), ALIKE MUSIC TASTE (like new shit im all for, but if they dislike my music, nahhhh, imagine not liking queen)

just ya know, a person i can unapologetically be myself with 

(now i wanna know ur answerssssss lmao) 

ALSO BUCKY GIF

[aimmyarrowshigh]

um i want to know about All of those docs but i am most desperately intrigued by TOG POTC Crossover and STAR WARS For Survival 👀👀

Ooooh, so they’re actually both kind of crossovers? TOG/POTC is obviously The Old Guard and Pirates of the Caribbean, and it’s an AU where Elizabeth Swann and her pirate crew (since she’s the Pirate King and rightful captain of the Black Pearl) find Quynh. (And then Quynh/Elizabeth Swann, while they both wait for their undying lovers who they cannot reach.)

001. The water is dark and cold and crushing. The weight of it should kill her before she can drown, but Quynh is not that lucky.

Instead, her lungs scream when she can't get the breath to make a sound. The water is fire and betrayal and fear, and it fills her mouth and her nose and becomes her entire world.

And then there is nothing for a few blessed seconds.

Her heart starts beating again, the most treacherous of them all, and then the water is back, as dark and as cold and as punishing as the day she came to rest on the ocean floor.

Quynh's lungs scream.

Her heart stops beating.

The ocean goes on forever.

002. She barely has time to register the new terror before her iron prison flips, swept up in a tentacle as long and thick as a building. Westerners' maps mark the unknowns of the ocean with a warning that <i>here there be monsters</i>, but Quynh and—

Quynh used to laugh at the idea: neither of them had ever seen one in all of their thousands of years, thousands of lives. Animals, even the biggest and most bloodthirsty, were not monsters (humans were monsters, humans bolted Quynh in this torture chamber, humans burned and lashed and stabbed and suffocated and beat and bound and slit and hanged and disemboweled and warred).

This arm belongs to a monster the likes of which Quynh could not fathom. Its mouth seethes with endless rows of teeth and even after it swallows her, Quynh cannot die and she cannot escape the iron maiden and the days it takes to see the outside of the monster again…

Quynh has moments to note that she is relieved to be back in the blue crush of water, and that's something she never expected to be.

And Star Wars - For Survival is a SWST/Jurassic World crossover where Rey was raised by the T-Rex when Isla Nublar was left abandoned for the 25 years between Jurassic Park and Jurassic World, and now she’s the dinosaur queen and also the CEO of Jurassic World, and Poe is the sexy velociraptor trainer and BB-8 is Blue.

i. It starts with Commander Poe Dameron, pride of the SEALs, being requested to fly to some godforsaken island off the coast of Costa Rica (I hope they know that Guatemala and Costa Rica are different places, he’d muttered to Muran and Arana before he got on the chopper; he had things to do, y’know, he didn’t have time for bureaucratic bullshit).

The pilot has a face that Poe knows – older guy, much too old to be military, but flies like a pro. They don’t talk; Poe just watches the ocean spread out below them.

They land on a pad set onto the rooftop of an enormous, cavernous complex carved away from the pristine white beach and Poe thinks, shit. A secret Guantanamo. The fuck they want me for?

But he disembarks the chopper and the pilot jumps down, too, and leans over to yell in Poe’s ear because they’re still flight-deaf.

You ever heard of Jurassic Park?

ii. Maybe it really starts with this: Ben Kenobi had a vision, twenty-five years ago.

iii. “Jurassic Park?” Poe asks, and he looks up at the building. Yeah, it’s tall enough to house dinosaurs, probably. He’s never seen a dinosaur. That park – everyone, everyfuckingone, knows what happened to Jurassic Park.

Someone like Ben Kenobi doesn’t get knocked down that hard and not have the reverberations shake around the world. You can’t create a species of monsters and claim that they are loyal to you and not have the world remember when they eat you up.

“Well," says the pilot. "Not anymore." He grins, and he sweeps his arm across the scenery. “Commander Dameron… welcome to the future site of Jurassic World.”

iv. General Leia Organa is smaller than Poe pictured, when the pilot leads him agog through the front door of the complex. There’s construction banging all around them, but Organa’s office is completed, at least, a big corner room with windows on two sides that look out over the lush gorgeous green of the island.

“Commander Dameron,” she says. “I’m glad you came.”

“I’m flattered you requested me, General,” says Poe, standing at attention. He has to look down to meet her eye.

“At ease, Poe,” says General Organa, and she moves out from behind the massive desk and looks even smaller. She opens a little refrigerator and hands Poe a bottle of water with Jurassic World: Sink Your Teeth Into Adventure! printed on the label. “Take a seat.”

Poe does. Above the trees outside the window, a flock of birds take off in a great puff of wings like frenzy and sudden panic and –

What is beneath the canopy?

v. “We’ve heard great things about your abilities with the dolphins,” says General Organa. “I’m wondering whether you might be ready for a new challenge.”

[fanaiceach]

@unethicalpractice​ asked: “Lower your weapons. For goodness’ sake, put them down.“

potc starters || accepting

      This feels like a tipping point. A decision gate. A moment from which the future spirals improbably outward while the past remains barred in eternity. There is no coming back from this. No do-overs, no second chances. What he does or does not do here and now will be inked immutably in the history books.

      And Geoffrey wonders if Edgar -- Swansea, the doctor, the goddamn bastard -- if he felt that way when he made his choices. If he had a care in the world beyond the power and notoriety he stood to gain.

      If he cared at all for the consequences of working with a monster like Marshal, if he had even so much as hesitated before traversing the neatly paved way to Hell.

      “Make it easy, Swansea.” Not Edgar, not anymore, not a friendly first name escaping between grit teeth but something old and impersonal, the kind of uneasy formality they’d shed a long time ago. This meeting isn’t unlike the others, the ones that came before. The door is closed, it’s only them in the quiet of an office that had once been comfortable. Where they’d spent hours poring over papers and pouring out glasses -- or at least Geoffrey had. Where the doctor had spread blueprints across his desk for the contingency room, the place where Geoffrey is now planning on fileting and frying Swansea’s damned accomplice Reid. Reid’s betrayal is less cutting at least, an edge that stings but not deep enough to wound.

      But he’d trusted Swansea. Called him a friend even if not to his face. And now Geoffrey’s arm is raised and there’s a crossbow bolt sizing up the space between the doctor’s panic-wide eyes, and it’s like Ian all over again, like he can see the starburst bloom of blood and the remnants of his skull and all he can think is how could you, how could you, how could I--

      He hoists the shorter man out of his chair by the lapels of his labcoat, ignoring his protestations and the papers that scatter with the violent shifting of his desk, hauls him a few steps only to slam him back against a bookcase that thumps against the wall. Swansea’s glasses are skewed and his eyes are screwed shut like he’s expecting more, expecting worse, and Geoffrey has half a mind to deliver in the form of his fist connecting squarely with the doctor’s face if only for the satisfaction of watching the lenses shatter. Instead he aims lower, slips a knife from his pocket and jams it into Swansea’s side. Not a blow aimed at anything vital, not a blade pressed deep enough to kill -- just enough to hurt. Just enough that when he twists his wrist he can feel warm blood trickling over his fingers in time with Swansea’s breathless cry.

      “Tell me where the monster is. Maybe I’ll show a little mercy to your pet leech if you give Marshal up now.” All he’s met with is babbling confusion, Swansea’s previous lack of understanding pitched to near hysteria now that he’s under duress. Feigned, as far as Geoffrey is concerned. Nothing that a little persuasion can’t solve. Again he twists his wrist. And it would be easier, perhaps, if the responding keen of pain brought him even a modicum of pleasure. If it did anything but settle like a knot in his gut that threatens to constrict around his heart. But whatever threatens to bubble up from those depths is smothered by the anger, by the striking sense of betrayal that dwarfs all else. “Did Harriet Jones cry when you did your fucking experiments on her? Did Doris Fletcher? Would you have cared -- or is everyone just another lab rat in your greedy eyes?” By the end his words are low, hissed, spat with all of the vitriol he feels growing like a wound inside of him. The doctor only responds with the repeated plea that he has no idea what Geoffrey is talking about, he doesn’t know, he doesn’t understand. And they never do, they never see the destruction and the pain carved in their wake, never look down at the hearts they’ve torn out and trodden on--

      All at once he lets Swansea go, rips the knife from his side and tucks it away, and stalks back to the door. He hears the doctor grunt, pained, listens to him take a few shuffling steps forward just as he throws open the door and signals for his men. The revolver at his hip is drawn swiftly, and he barely has to turn before he’s aiming and firing a clean shot through Swansea’s left leg. The man goes down in a startled heap just as a few guardsmen file in, two of them picking the doctor up by his underarms while the rest begin overturning the place in search of any clues that remain.

      “Take him back to the theater,” he orders coldly, firmly, glancing at Swansea too quickly to meet his eyes. “Find out what he knows -- I don’t care how you do it, but make sure I can get the last word.” Flexing his palm, the one that had held the knife and is still tacky with the doctor’s blood, he adds, “Drag him towards the lift first. I want the leech to know where to find me. When I’m finished with him we’ll have all we need.” 

      He stands there for a moment, watching them go. When Swansea’s form disappears down the stairs, the only sound left is that of the office’s upheaval. The space suddenly feels cold, foreign, empty in spite of the guardsmen around him, and a weight settles in Geoffrey’s chest to match the gnarled snare of something roiling in his gut. 

      There’s still blood on his hand, growing cold, caked beneath blunt nails.

      When he leaves the office and heads for the lift and the carefully crafted executioner’s block that lies beyond, he presses his palm against a column and leaves behind a streaky print. His handprint, Swansea’s blood. A sickly signpost for Reid to follow. He wipes the rest of the blood off on his coat, but it doesn’t fix the flecks trapped under his nails like scarlet-stained crescent moons. He’ll have to scrub his hands later, scrub them raw, until he feels clean.

[muchbadassverywow]

I Can’t Breathe: Arno x reader

So after watching the first two POTC movies and realizing how much my asthma misses me, I try my hand at a oneshot. :) Feedback is appreciated.

Alignment: Platonic flangst.

You love Paris. Truly, you do. The sights, the buildings, the people (a select minority) all have places in your heart, so you were more than happy to hear that it wasn’t the brotherhood’s decision to assign you as Arno’s second for his mission, but the man himself.

“I could’ve sworn you forgot I was alive.” you announce your presence, coming up behind him on the rooftop he told you to meet. His head perks up at your voice, and he comes to hug you with a teasing smile of his own, “Hello to you too, Y/n.”

You hook your arms under his and cling your hands on his shoulders, pressing your face against his chest so he wouldn’t see how fast your smirk disappeared. Arno always has a scent or two lingering on him during missions like these, but this time, you couldn’t smell anything. It was your own way of making a contingency plan by locating where he had been, as well as a way to feel like home, but now you just felt lost. Even so, you didn’t want to worry him, which made you pull back after a moment with a bright smile, “So, what do we got?”

Arno fills you in on his findings, and you mentally scold yourself the whole time for having your attention divided between listening and breathing. More effort than what was probably necessary was put to not making the ragged patterns of your breathing audible, though doubt looms over your head towards your partner’s obliviousness. He could be acting.

“Remember, if any of the guards have suspicious containers on them, that is poisonous gas and you must get out of the area immediately.” he concludes, as your target walks out of an establishment, four guards ‘discreetly’ coming along with him.

You nonchalantly roll your e/c eyes, beginning to freerun across rooftops, “Remind me not to be away from you for too long. You get bossier than I prefer.”

“I’m just watching your back.” he gently defends, following you.

A smug smirk returns to your lips as you glance at him, keeping most of your attention on your target as he and the guards ride a carriage. “I know, and that’s what you’ll still be doing because I’m about to outrun you.” right when you said that, you bolted off, hearing the hooves of the horses on the cobblestone floor and the amused chuckles of your friend from behind.

Maybe being tired is the way to clear your lungs.

Eventually, your freerunning enjoyment came to a halt as the carriage of your target stopped at the dock. Arno and yourself overlook from a roof, before nodding to each other and unsheathing your Hidden Blades. Running with him only affected your breathing for the first few seconds, but then you began to pant again after a while. Alongside Arno, you leap down and assassinate some few guards from the back. One wanderer unfortunately spotted you, though, causing the two of you to use the Phantom Blades and hope that no one noticed his limp, bleeding body. He leads the way, and out of worry, you recheck your surroundings before tailing the target with him.

You scale a wall and effortlessly come up on the other, much darker side, in time to have the frightened man fall on his backside because of your sudden appearance. He looked really intimidated that you just had to take a moment and mentally thank your partner for the path he practically paved for you. With Eagle Vision, you see him in the shadows, nodding at you to make the kill. You stalked over the target until his back hit the wall and his face truly became a reflection of terror. You were just about to raise your Phantom Blade when something at the side of your face hissed, making you lose what composure you could muster as well as the coordination of your body. Vaguely aware that your target has become unconscious, you frantically move away from the poisonous gas, managing to see a distorted red outline when you squinted. You were only able to get yourself back to your feet with Arno’s help, and together, you shot the Templar in the legs.

The gas later disperses, and you absently recall information about a five-second time period of the gas when it leaves its container. You and Arno notice the face of your target, and tore your eyes away just as fast. When that simple motion constrained your breathing even further, you quickly scale up a wall in a panic, ignoring your friend’s calls as you make for the nearest safehouse. 

If Arno failed to get to you on time, would you have accompanied your own target in his death? How did that gas even affect the human body? How long will it take before you change the fact that your need for each other is not equally reciprocated? How close is the moment when Arno won’t be there for you, anyway? Right now, if your footing fails you and you forget how to regain it as you pummel to the ground? Right now, as you jump from rope to rope? Now, if you weren’t able to grab onto the ledge the moment you run out of roof to slide on? Now, when a Templar infiltrated the safe house you just went in and adorned the walls with your blood for him to find? 

 Quiet steps and a call of your name made you jump, unsheathing your sword towards the source; Arno. 

He raises his hands in both reassurance and surprise, watching you sheathe your weapon with slight embarrassment, “Please talk to me.“ 

 But no matter how hard you try, your body protested. You’ve already resigned yourself to the fact that what suspicions Arno must have (if he didn’t have them already) shall now be answered straightforwardly. But you couldn’t do that if you were fighting for every breath, now could you? 

 You lean on a nearby table, hands on the edges of the wood as your back hunches and audible sounds of pain escape your parted lips. As Arno steps closer, you shake your head, upset that your own body would be against having him near, “I-I can’t…” 

 “Where’s the wound? Or is it a cut? Perhaps it’s the poison…!” he began to inspect you for physical proof, a feat you swore you could’ve killed him for were it not for the respiratory handicap. If you die and he ate your cookie stash, you’ll haunt him until he joins you. 

Using what little force you can spare, you hold onto his hand tightly as he examines your arm. You lean on him, vaguely aware of his other hand hovering over your back, “Arno, I can’t…” you wheeze, “I can’t breathe.”

An actual cliffhanger, and could end in angst or fluff, now that I think about it.

[boltlightning]

big fan of the way

jack and barbossa fight using the environment to their advantage in any and every possible way, even when physics or common sense disagrees

will fights like he’s in a ballet, constantly spinning and turning his opponents’ balance (or lack thereof) against them

elizabeth initially improvises and makes only quick and sneaky strikes, then learns from will and the pirates both and lands somewhere in the middle

norrington is usually on the attack and tends to duck and dodge rather than parry blows

it’s good characterization! every action in a battle has so much weight!! sword melees usually devolved into brawls in close quarters and potc finds the balance between fantastical swashbuckling and...falling realistically! throwing punches!! shoving and kicking and running away!!! hot take in the year 2023 the fighting in potc is SO GOOD!!!!!!!!

[boltlightning]

hey. don’t cry. i went to Your Heart Locked In A Chest Island and…oh. um. yeah there’s three scrungly idiots fighting over it. with swords. they’re on the comically large hamster wheel and everything. yeah it’s gonna take all day. sorry

[boltlightning]

very fond of the way norrington struggles to hold eye contact in these two scenes:

this first scene he's defending his decision to arrest jack to elizabeth, and the second (deleted) scene he's defending his decision to go to isla de muerta to governor swann.

you can see the clear change in tone. the first he's coming off his big fancy ceremony and the adrenaline from his proposal, and arguing with elizabeth against her wishes for her own safety. he's defiant, but could be persuaded, and still willing to hear elizabeth out. and the second, he's devastated by that proposal being accepted, but going along with elizabeth's wishes against his better judgment regarding her safety. he's resigned, anxious to face her father, and doing his best to juggle both their approval in front of an entire ship full of men. he cares so much about what they think! he's so nervous about crossing either of them even if it's for their own good!

consider further that he almost always uses eye contact unflinchingly, even when he's at his worst:

norrington is stuffy, proper, and restrained — but his eyes are so emotional in every scene.

it would've been so easy to write, direct, and act this dude as a classic unrepentant antagonistic inspector guy, but he's human! he's so deeply human! it's agonizing! it's great!

[boltlightning]

im planning on making will turner for my next baldur's gate multiplayer character, and that got me trying to figure out what the cast's class and stat array would look like if they were characters in a campaign. these are the fruits of my labor. i am open to changing my mind.

elizabeth swann: sorcerer. natural charisma and an innate sense of calculation and cunning. quick to consider a lot of options at once. later on she gets more close-range options and can control whole battlefields. (dump stat: strength, the classic spellcaster minmax choice)

will turner: fighter, potential multiclass into rogue (or even cleric, depending on how you read into the ferryman thing). he does one thing really really good and it's fight things. comes with a lot of great proficiencies and a background that seems mundane but is deeply tied in with the narrative. of course. (dump stat: intelligence. sorry. his wis is good though.)

jack sparrow: a classic thief rogue — though i think you could argue for arcane trickster too. stumbles into situations and skill checks himself out of them. hidden depths lie beneath a roguish exterior and many, many sessions of bullshittery that somehow always tie back into the main plot. (dump stat: constitution. he's gotten hit in the head so many goddamn times.)

barbossa: hear me out: warlock. they have a lot of variation that can make it hard to tell what class they are, and you could argue that the aztec gold and later calypso are patrons to which he owes his unlife and, subsequently, his powers. comes with a high charisma stat for chewing the scenery. (dump stat: he cheated his stat rolls and has none)

norrington: paladin. my god. a paragon of light until he breaks his oath in dmc through no fault of his own and destroys himself clawing his way back into favor. (dump stat: strength, so he can be a dex-based paladin but his wis is probably next lowest)

beckett: bard. no further explanation.

davy jones: has since surpassed the levels of the class-based system but was a cleric, back in the day, devoted to a goddess he believed abandoned him. no it hasn't defined his existence for centuries. no he's not bitter. why do you ask?

calypso: aforementioned goddess ex. you know how it is.

governor swann: npc the dm has to frantically make a statblock for when he's suddenly drawn into a fight. he has 6hp.

[boltlightning]

"what has the world done to you?" / "nothing i didn't deserve" is all-time and we were robbed. dmc could've been even more devastating. let that sad man be dramatic and pathetic both

[boltlightning]

those dmc bts features that are like

orlando bloom: yeah i swung around a sword on fire. it's all pretty easy once you've done a few sword movies innit

keira knightley: I Was Born To Wield A Sword And You Have Given Me Immense And Untamable Power By Putting A Blade In My Hand

jack davenport: they threw me in pig piss :) i have no idea what i'm doing :) :) :)

[boltlightning]

hey gamers. the dead man’s chest soundtrack has been rolling around my head a lot lately; the extended soundtrack from this playlist has been a godsend. specifically i want to gush about the instrumentation.

the potc soundtracks use a standard orchestra composition, focusing on strings and brass and less on woodwinds. DMC introduces the kraken and davy jones, who are associated with davy jones’ organ (of course) and — well. hans zimmer went nuts and recorded the orchestra, then piped that recording back over the music through a guitar amp. it sounds uncannily like an electric bass (and yes, a guitar now and then), so for our purposes i am going to say it sounds like electric bass with CRUNCHY reverb. it seems a little counterintuitive to associate ancient and cursed beings with more modern, experimental sounds, but altogether it creates this delightful, otherworldly, primordial rock band feel.

let’s take the track from when we first meet davy jones, dutchman arrival, for instance. it gives us a touch of that electric bass underneath jones’ theme when the sailors first show up, then pivots to normal orchestration as will is fighting. HE doesn’t know who they are, only that they’re odd — and when jones shows up finally, you get the bass holding that melody all on its own, this terrifying, growling refrain that sounds like it’s seething just under the surface. an undercurrent…a heartbeat, perhaps.

hold onto that thought. let’s move on. davy jones and his organ. jones having something as dramatic, expensive, and dominating as an organ on his ship speaks to how authoritative his character is — he’s playing his self-pitying music while his crew is breaking their backs to keep this awful ship sailing. he plays it solo, then the entire orchestra joins in, and beneath it all…the thrum of a heart. the melody of jones’ theme fits lock-and-key with the beat of a heart. here, everything is orchestral, but we’ve added the warm tones of choral voices under it all, like this is a horrible waltz that everyone aboard is doomed to keep dancing. and then it spirals into discordant chaos.

as a bonus: pipe organs have the countermelody playing with foot pedals, usually. imagine jones and his peg leg playing this kind of shit while the squid beard tickles the keys

i also L O V E the chorus humming in the back half of the whipping scene. it makes my skin crawl.

this all builds to the second kraken attack, the attack that introduces the viewer to the kraken in person. just…the constant buzz of the bass under these insane, warning low brass flourishes. the guitar-alike sound is in full force here and drapes this growly, eerie echo over the entire score. just when you hit the natural apex of the song, when you think you might reach some sort of musical resolution, it cuts out for a caesura — and bursts back in with the organ melody, huge and overwhelming over it all, as the kraken FULLY CRACKS A SHIP IN HALF. just in case you forgot who made this all happen. this is the EXACT way a heroic theme would triumphantly emerge in any classical piece of work. eat your heart out, holst.

the way jones’ theme is reprised with horns in the ship to ship score is so chilling too. it’s played in will's instrument after all! it's this teeny little bit of hope, a sign the pearl might get away — yet it’s getting lost in all the tenor voices just to really remind you how hopeless this all is. and then everything drops away and jones’ theme fully emerges in the low bass; it’s raunchy and nasty and so, so scary. god. what a score.

they do such a good job with the themes, even without visuals it’s so easy to tell who is on screen doing what in any of the tracks from the wheel of fortune section (specifically heart madness on the extended soundtrack). if there’s soaring brass and string stings, you know local romance heroes will and norrington are trying to kill each other on the wheel. if it’s quiet with a plucky little string soli, low reeds, and snare accents, you know jack is doing some shenanigans off to the side. if there’s deep and growling bass and organ swells, it’s elizabeth and pintel and ragetti racing against the crew of the dutchman for the heart.

in particular there’s this delightful bit in the track immediately preceding it, 3-way sword fight, where the melody starts and stops as all three dudes with swords are getting their footing on the various precarious places they take their fight. it builds and builds, and soon the melody is getting juggled by three different groups of instruments as elizabeth gets drawn into the fight too. talk about chaos.

on a related, but more lowkey character note: i ADORE that beckett’s associated instrument is the harpsichord. you only hear it a little bit in the track when will is bargaining with beckett. the harpsichord immediately puts you in the mind of aristocratic england; it was a household instrument back then, it’s plausibly an instrument beckett could play himself! it’s particular, but at the same time it’s subtle. it’s not dominating. he’s a new player in the game with a unique position, and damn does he know how to play the game.

and FINALLY. to compare beckett to someone ostentatious in a much different way: jack is associated with two themes, summed up perfectly in this track. this big, great, sweeping, seafaring melody we know and love, with regimented snare drum and timpani, the whole nine yards. it invokes jack’s reputation, the captain in his title…and then it fades to that stupid little soli, the gremlin trickster we all know and love.

yet compare that track with this demo of the same themes — it’s the exact same music, just with a solo piano, and it sounds so moody, even when the key and tempo pick up. THAT’S the power of instrumence baby! the texture, timbre, and context of any given melody changes the weight and impact, even if the notes are exactly the same. 

finally finally: i hope the timpani player finds a million dollars every day in the street.

ok. phew. this soundtrack makes me want to go learn cello and i needed to get that out of my system. thanks for coming to my tedtalk.