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anonymousewrites · 5 months ago

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Pearl of the Sea Chapter Nine

Found Family! PoTC Cast x Teen! Reader

Platonic! Will Turner, Elizabeth Swann, Jack Sparrow, Tia Dalma x Reader

Chapter Nine: Hanging a Pirate

Summary: Jack is going to be punished for being a pirate, but his new friends(?) aren't going to let that happen.

“It’s over,” said Will in relief.

The next moment, he and Elizabeth ran towards (Y/N), and all three embraced. They were alive, and they were together once more. Jack looked at the three, and he shifted. He looked away until they had finished hugging.

Elizabeth stepped back first and looked at Will. She cleared her throat and glanced away. That was her last moment of softness with him. “We should…return to the Dauntless.”

Will swallowed and nodded. “Your fiancé will be wanting to know you’re safe.” His heart ached.

Elizabeth nodded, teary-eyed. She turned and fled the scene.

Jack approached from behind. “If you were waiting for the opportune moment, that was it.”

Will swallowed hard, and (Y/N) frowned.

“You, laddie! Excellent work,” said Jack, shaking their hand exuberantly. “If you ever flee and turn to a life of piracy, you’d have so much fun!” He let go and looked at Will again. “Now, I’d be ever so obliged if you dropped me off on my ship.”

Elizabeth cleared her throat as they approached the rowboat. “About that…”

Jack paused as he looked at the bay, empty of any ship except the Dauntless.

“I’m sorry, Jack. I—We—tried to get them to stay,” said (Y/N).

Jack huffed and got into the boat. “They done what’s right by them. Can’t expect more than that.”

(Y/N)’s gaze was cast downward at the sea. Once Jack arrived back at the Dauntless, Norrington would punish him for orchestrating more double-crossing. He’d be tried and hanged.

(Y/N) wished he wouldn’t be.

Jack stared listlessly out at the sky. The noose hung before him, and the sun shone high over Port Royal. He had no clever escape plan this time; he was going to die.

Norrington and Swann stood side-by-side and watched him. Elizabeth had to stand by her fiancé’s side, and (Y/N) was beside her. They shifted, restless energy having returned as soon as they were stuck back into Port Royal and confined by societal expectations. (Y/N) had wanted to go and speak to Jack before the hanging, to apologize for getting him caught, to thank him for shooting Barbossa when he aimed to kill them, but they had been kept far away from the jail, and it only increased their restlessness.

“Jack Sparrow, you have been charged—”

“Captain Jack Sparrow,” interrupted Jack.

“—tried and convicted for your willful commission of crime against the Crown, said crimes being numerous in quantity and sinister in nature, the most egregious of these to be cited herewith,” said the herald. “Piracy, smuggling—”

“This is wrong,” murmured Elizabeth.

“It is,” agreed (Y/N).

“Commodore Norrington is bound by the law, as are we all,” said Swann.

“—impersonating an officer of the Spanish Royal Navy, impersonating a cleric of the Church of England,” on droned the herald. “Sailing under false colors, arson, kidnapping, looting, poaching, brigandage, pilfering—”

Does this go forever? thought (Y/N), sort of impressed.

“—depravity, depredation, and general lawlessness,” finished the list.

Should ‘general lawlessness’ be a crime? It feels a bit vague, thought (Y/N).

On top of a flag, a familiar parrot squawked. (Y/N) glanced at it. Ah-ha.

“And for these crimes, you have been sentenced to be, on this day, hung by the neck until dead.” The sentence was delivered. “May God have mercy on your soul.”

“Governor Swann.” Will stepped out of the crowd and addressed him. “Commodore. (Y/N).” His gaze softened. “Elizabeth.” She looked at him. “I should have told you every day from the moment I met you. I love you.”

(Y/N)’s eyes widened. He had done it. Finally. They smiled and looked at Elizabeth.

Her mouth opened in shock, and a light blush appeared on her cheeks. Before she could respond, Will turned and returned to the crowd.

Swann and Norrington looked at each other awkwardly.

Drdrdrdrdrdr…

The drumroll began, and the executioner looped the noose around Jack’s neck. The parrot cawed again and flew off. Elizabeth recognized it, and her eyes widened. She looked at (Y/N) and found them watching Will carefully. Whatever was happening, they were in on it.

And so, she decided to provide a distraction. “I can’t breathe!” she gasped, and she “fainted.”

“Elizabeth!” cried Swann, and he and Norrington ran to her side. After the last incident, they didn’t want her to get hurt.

“Move!” shouted Will, pulling a sword.

The crowd screamed and let him through. At that precise moment, the executioner pulled the lever, and the trapdoor opened beneath Jack. Will threw his sword, and it impaled the wood beneath Jack. He scrambled for purchase.

Elizabeth sat up, perfectly fine, and watched. Her father stared at her in astonishment, and Norrington whirled.

“Men!” he shouted.

“Oh, no,” sighed Swann. “Where’s (Y/N)?”

(Y/N) appeared from the crowd, a dagger—hidden in their skirts—in hand. The executioner was confused and hesitated as the teen ran at him. Will ran up behind them, and the executioner swung at him. He parried while (Y/N) sawed the rope holding Jack up. He landed on the ground.

“Move!” shouted Norrington, shoving through the crowd with his soldiers.

Will dodged the executioner, and (Y/N) slammed into him. The executioner fell forward onto several soldiers. Underneath the wooden stand, Jack cut his hands free on Will’s sword before running. Will and (Y/N) leapt down, and (Y/N) grabbed the other end of the rope. Together, Jack and (Y/N) ran into three soldiers, tripping them on the rope. Will pulled a sword from them and parried the next soldier who approached.

Jack and (Y/N) looped another two soldiers and slammed them into the wall. Jack punched another soldier, and (Y/N) kicked another. Will slammed two others down. However, as they made it to the cliff, at least a dozen soldiers had arrived, and the three had to back up into one another. Nowhere to go.

Norrington approached with his sword drawn and glared at Will. “I thought we might have to endure some manner of ill-conceived escape attempt, but not from you.” He looked at (Y/N). “And you. Your father should really look into correcting this sudden behavior of yours.”

“On our return to Port Royal, I granted you clemency, and this is how you thank me, Mr. Turner, by throwing in your lot with him?” said Swann. He turned to (Y/N). “(Y/N), you cannot be doing this. It’s uncivilized, and you will have to face proper consequences.” He took a deep breath. “You should not be helping this man. He’s a pirate.”

“And a good man,” said (Y/N). Sometimes.

“And if all we have achieved here is that the hangman will earn two pairs of boots instead of one, then so be it,” said Will. He knew that (Y/N) was still being viewed as a misguided child due to Swann’s wardship and Norrington’s upcoming marriage to Elizabeth earning them clemency, but he was risking his life.

“I won’t send someone who helped us save Lizzie to the gallows,” said (Y/N). “I won’t just watch it happen.”

“My conscience is clear,” said Will.

“You forget your places,” said Norrington, narrowing his eyes.

“It’s right here. Between you and Jack,” said Will firmly.

Elizabeth moved forward to (Y/N) and Will’s sides. “As is mine,” she said.

“Elizabeth!” Swann was truly becoming worried from the attitude of his daughter and ward. It promised trouble in the future. He cleared his throat. “Lower your weapons. For goodness sake, put them down!”

The bayonets were lowered, and the soldiers stepped back.

“So this is where your heart truly lies, then?” said Norrington, staring, partially heartbroken, at Elizabeth.

She nodded. “It is.”

As the stare down continued, Jack glanced around and finally spotted the familiar parrot. He brightened. “Well, I’m actually feeling rather good about this! I think we’ve all arrived at a very special place. Spiritually, ecumenically, grammatically—” He looked at Norrington and patted him sympathetically on the shoulder. “I want you to know that I was rooting for you, mate. Know that.”

(Y/N) rolled their eyes in amusement. He was always trying to charm the people around him.

“Elizabeth. Will.” Jack swaggered away. “(Y/N).” They looked back at him. “To freedom.”

(Y/N) grinned as he said the words they had on the beach.

“Friends!” Jack returned to his dramatics and headed to the edge of the cliff. Soldiers raised their weapons, and those out of the loop watched in shock. “This is the day you will always remember as the day that—”

Jack tripped and fell.

Will, (Y/N), and Elizabeth ran up to check on him. Norrington stormed up after them. Jack splashed down into the water, and Gillette laughed derisively.

“Idiot. He’s nowhere to go but back to the noose,” said Gillette.

“Sail ho!”

A call grabbed everyone’s attention. The Black Pearl emerged from behind a cliff, sailing directly for Jack. (Y/N) grinned.

“What’s your plan of action?” asked Gillette, staring in confusion at Norrington.

He struggled to speak, unsure what to say.

“Perhaps, on the rare occasion, pursuing the right course demands an act of piracy, piracy itself can be the right course?” remarked Swann. Elizabeth and (Y/N) looked at him, and he smiled. He was trying to understand.

“Mr. Turner,” said Norrington sharply.

Elizabeth gasped and held his hands, but he stepped forward bravely, ready to face the consequences of his actions. (Y/N) stood and watched him proudly. They had done the right thing, rules be damned.

Norrington raised his sword, the gift for his promotion. “This is a beautiful sword. I would expect the man who made it to show the same care and devotion in every aspect of his life.” He had let go of Elizabeth and given Will his…blessing, of a sorts.

“Thank you,” said Will, smiling.

Norrington nodded and turned away.

“Commodore, what about Sparrow?” said Gillette.

“I think we can afford to give him one day’s head start,” said Norrington. He walked away. The matter was over.

(Y/N) grinned.

“So. This is the path you’ve chosen, is it?” said Swann, looking at Elizabeth. “After all, he is a blacksmith.”

“No.” Elizabeth smiled. “He’s a pirate.”

Swann suppressed a disapproving sentiment at the teasing, but he turned away and walked off to give Elizabeth and Will a moment.

“Congratulations,” said (Y/N). “It was about time.”

They looked at (Y/N) in surprise, not realizing how obvious they’d been, but (Y/N) just grinned and walked away.

“Do not look so pleased with yourself,” said Swann. “You’re still in trouble for stealing a ship and running into danger.” However much he disapproved, though, he was glad they were back safe.

“It appears I’m good at handling danger,” said (Y/N).

“That is not something to be proud of,” said Swann. He sighed. “How can I convince you to…calm yourself after this excitement?”

He, like everyone else, recognized the energy, the stormy restlessness, that had finally broken the surface of (Y/N)’s character. However, unlike the pirates, he still held onto polite society’s regulations and wanted them to find some decorum.

“…Let me out of dresses,” said (Y/N). “And let me continue to learn to fence.”

“Am I going to regret this decision?” said Swann.

(Y/N) smirked and just walked on.

“(Y/N)? (Y/N)?”

To freedom.

(Y/N) would stay by Will and Elizabeth’s side, even if it was in Port Royal. But they wouldn’t be tamed. They wouldn’t lose their freedom.

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mjrtaurus · 10 months ago

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I feel like Dragodile as a ship has Will Turner and Elizabeth Swann energy but also Davy Jones and Calypso energy.

The former because they absolutely would marry in the middle of a battle while kicking ass and Dragon would have hearts for eyes and Croc would be losing his goddamn mind. The latter because miscommunication and tragedy and betrayal and love that never quite died but wishes it had because it hurts so much.

Meanwhile, Luffy is just straight up Jack Sparrow with his jar of dirt doing whatever the fuck.

#one piece #dragodile #monkey d dragon #sir crocodile #monkey d luffy

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uglypastels · 2 years ago

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Not Wholly Evil |II| Pirate!Eddie au

summary: as the daughter of the Governor, there is quite a heavy prize set on your safe return home, and the captain will not let anything come between him and his bounty.

Series Masterlist

word count: 5.7k

"semi dark fic" - READ the warnings:. (gun/sword)violence. blood. heavy scarring and wounding. minor character death. allusions to suicide, depression and trauma. kidnapping. imprisonment. alcohol. open and deep sea. pirates are pigs: frequent mentions of non-con and allusions to assault, but it does not actually occur. malnourishment. abuse. manhandling.

There might be a mention of other ST characters, and for plot's sake, everyone is an adult here, just coz I don't want fetus pirates running around, but they are not really relevant to the plot.

Chapter 2: Asphodel "Because you and I are alike, and there will come a moment when you have a chance to show it." - Elizabeth Swann, Pirates of the Caribbean

Despite gaining the privilege of an open cage and access to the rest of the ship, you decided against this freedom… and in a way, that was all the freedom you could ask for, wasn’t it? To choose where to go or where to stay. The restrictions were only so far as anyone else on this ship. The uncharted waters kept you all at the bay of the plank.

But perhaps there was a part of you was scared to go beyond what had now become your own piece of the ship, a safety blanket among the ravenous snake pit. It was not even a question. You could just tell by how you closed your cell door at the sound of footsteps approaching down the ladder towards you. These men were wild and unpredictable. You could never expect what they would do once with you. The distance was the only option.

Perhaps not so free as the rest, after all.

Yet.

Because you would fight it. All of them. Make your presence known and show everyone you were not like any other they had snagged off a ship. You assumed there had been more, after all. More prisoners, more girls to take advantage of. The shackles hanging down from the wall in your cell, stained red with rust and blood, were proof enough of what once occurred below deck.

Despite being the safest place you could be in, it still was a nightmare on Earth to spend your days there, among the crates and chests filled with stolen treasures, supplies, and whatever else was deemed worth the same amount of treatment as you. Everything had been stacked mindlessly, dropped at the earliest convenience, and items only moved to make a short path to your holding cell. The disorganisation and thoughtlessness around you had been a bittersweet nuisance. You could not stand it, but at the same time, it was nice to have something so trivial on your mind as the lacklustre distribution of goods around the ship.

Clearly, no one cared about what was going on. No one spent enough time there to notice anything, besides you, of course. The only times someone climbed those steps were to bring you your meals or to bring more storage in. So what harm would it do to you put some order to it?

It wasn’t much, but you had created a way to pass the long hours aboard. And it was pleasant, though exhausting. With the food you were given, your energy was not what it once used to be, and the first thing to go when not feeding the body properly is the muscle. Moving the larger items took a while, but you saw a positive outcome. By taking everything slowly, you had no fear of completing your task soon. It was a never-ending activity. Tiring but something for you to do, and most importantly, keep your mind too occupied with the straining work ahead rather than the larger picture of your current circumstances.

A part of it was also an attempt at claiming your territory. Lifting large boxes was doing the trick when it came to letting out your anger and frustrations, too, a way to channel everything into the peculiar renovation. A point to focus on something physical, something you could control, instead of your emotions and everything going on around you.

A few days since you began doing so, things started making sense. But, most importantly, no one who ever came down there seemed to notice or care what you were doing. Besides the food they had to feed you to keep you alive, there was little interest they seemed to have for your existence.

You found many other objects that they must have considered rubbish, but you could use them just fine. Like the old sails, or what you assumed were scraps of an old torn sail, folded up in a corner. It was such a large piece of material that you tied it up to the corners of your barred walls, creating a curtain that gave you some privacy. Most of the chests around you were locked, giant padlocks handing down from the cover, the keys most likely at the bottomless pit of the ocean along to their original owners. But some were shut, and of course, you poked a peak inside with interest.

Some were empty, and some had scrolls of paper, which you took up as light reading for early mornings when the sun hit through the windows just right, giving you a bright light source. There were captain logs and maritime routes; letters never sent, and maps never finished.

One caught your attention, and you read the most on those drabby mornings when nothing else could make you feel alive. This one particular letter, which you could only assume was intended for a young woman from her lover, kept your heart beating and your hopes of escaping this ship alive. At least the parts of it that you had managed to find, for the parchment was ripped to pieces, the last chunk still missing among the piles of items you were roaming through.

By now, you had read it so many times you didn’t even need the paper to recite it.

My dearest, The nights have been cruel, but I spend them thinking of you, and suddenly, the dark sky does not feel so heartless anymore. I think of your eyes. The sea reminds me of them— it is a calming sight each morning, and I imagine you looking out of your window at the shore, and perhaps we look up at the same clouds, and it is like you are right by my side and the wind feels not as harsh suddenly. More like a kiss straight from your lips. Some days I hum the words of that song you sang to me. I know what you have said about my voice, and the kind words still warm my heart, but it will never compare to yours. I will never do the melody justice. Only you…

There certainly was something about the love you felt seeping through each word you read and reread. It almost put you down into this state of calmness as it looped in your mind in the evening, letting you fall asleep.

It was another evening like all the others before it. Your dinner had been served in silence. If you had not known better, you would have assumed all men had taken an oath of silence, never to speak again, but it was evident the quiet was only limited to you. As you felt the slumber climb over you, the deck was alive and well.

The contrast between living aboard the Hellfire at night and day could not be more than that. While the sun was up, the boots fell heavy above your head, fatigue coming over them as the work had to be done. The crew did what they could to keep the boat afloat and sailing on. As much as the deep waters could be a calming sight to some, it was absurd that there could be nothing around you but water for days. Undoubtedly, the ship must reach a harbour quickly; provisions could only be stored in the salt barrels for so long. The last time the boat reached shore must have been days before your cage door had opened. Then again, you knew what going ashore meant for the people like the Hellfire crew… and did not wish the aftermath upon your worst enemies.

There would be fire, which you knew they adored. It came alive in spirit and light when the night sky appeared. When the work was done, and the sails smoothly let themselves be guided by the wind, you could always hear them walking above your cage, taunting their freedom with songs and tales. The ship was like a masquerade when the moon lit everything in her silver glow. It would have to be, or else the weariness and longing for land would take over.

The songs were nothing special, typical shanties and hymns allured by a drunken chorus, singing the ballads of adventure and treasures, beautifully sombre. Yet, these moments made you believe that some humanity was left in them. Some kindness and compassion, too. A part that they would never dare show when the sun came up.

It was as if the men aboard were two different people in one, where one side came out during the night and the other during the day. And you seemed to much prefer the nighttime sort. As, during the sun hours, the candles and lanterns went out, and with it, their souls were all back to their usual dirty selves. Their dark spirits would take over once more.

Either way, the nights were extended, as no sleep came to anyone. Not with the singing being so loud that it drilled into your ears. For them, slumber would come later and disappear quickly too, but no one seemed to mind.

You had no way of telling the time on board, the only possible tell sign would be the sun's position, but even that was never exactly as you had barely any idea where in the world you were. All you could make out was that the crew made way for their hammocks in the small hours of the morning when the sun teased its appearance at the horizon, its glow awakening everything else but the drunken sailors that held you captive.

The ship was asleep. The only sounds you could make were the waves smashing into the vessel and the gulls screeching in the distance. It was an opportunity. You could roam the deck unbothered.

With a deep but shaky breath, you inhaled the salty sea air as you climbed the ladder, hands paling at your knuckles from your grip on it. The trapdoor opened with a creak, and you froze in your movements, waiting for the sound to have woken up everybody… but the silence resumed. You let out another deep breath and pushed the door open to reveal the sky, millions of stars looking down at you, but already fading as the sun appeared slowly. The dewy morning hours were dark but brighter than anything you had been surrounded with since your capture.

It had been getting colder by the day, and you already knew that by sitting in your cell. Soon enough, more than your dress would be needed for the climate you were entering. Shivers swarmed your arms at the wind blowing by. Your steps remained small and apprehensive as you needed help figuring out where to go. You had the entire ship deck to yourself for a short time. There was so much to explore above ground, but your legs automatically steered you towards the barriers of the ship.

You walked over to the ship's edge, letting your nails dig into the wood and your frustrations on the trim piece. Stand there, look at the horizon, and watch the sun slowly rise from under the water. The first sunrise you witnessed in weeks— at least not from the small window that peaked right over your head in your cell– had been a euphoric experience. Everything felt brand new. As your last attempts at peeking at the waves had resulted in painful flashbacks of your previous minutes aboard the Red Tail, now, you focused on the calm ripples of the water. No longer was the only thing you saw in the blue the blood of your long-lost friends. You saw their resting place. In the early morning, golden sun rays peeked out from the horizon, illuminating the drab grey of the waters like a liquid treasure hiding beneath the surface. You saw the waves moving along the ship sheepishly, back and forth. Calmly, sleepy, drifting away into the distance with each push of the boat and wind. It was slowly waking up, the sea, the earth.

What would it dream of, you pondered. It must be lovely to be so at peace.

If you closed your eyes and let the fresh golden light wash over you for long enough, you could fool yourself into oblivion. That you were somewhere else. A happy place.

It was so peaceful and quiet that the smallest of disturbances broke you out of your happy thoughts. You felt the presence from across the ship, his eyes on you, disintegrating your moment of bliss. But, of course, it could have been anyone, and you expected it to be one of the crewmates, one of the men with poor luck who had to start their work shift with the sun.

Never, in a million years, did you imagine turning around and meeting with a pair of golden hazel eyes. Captain Munson was leaning against one of the masts, leg prodded against the wooden pole. He chuckled at the sight of your face, evidently struck with panic. How had he even reached the centre of the deck so quietly? Because… he could not have been standing there, or anywhere, all this time?

In one hand, he held an apple, and in the other, a small knife. He pressed the blade against the fruit’s skin and his thumb over it, cutting a small piece off. Then, still with the knife under it, he brought the apple slice to his lips. Never did his eyes leave yours as he ate. You felt unnerved with each move he made. You felt the need to look away, but for some reason, you simply couldn’t. It was like he was capturing you in a trance. So instead, you let your nails dig into the ship’s rail even more.

‘Do not let me disturb you, my darling,’ he eventually said and bode you farewell with a slight bow before parting ways. You were left stunned. Not sure what to say or do, you just turned back to look at the sea. It had no effect and felt like a sore loser's words, but you mumbled “Not your darling” under your breath.

Had that been all? It was all extremely disorienting. Because, of course, he had meant to disturb you. He did so to your very core. That cold-eyed gaze opposed the actual warmth of his honey irises. It froze your blood. It spoiled everything about your morning.

And as quickly he had appeared behind you, so quick the captain was to disappear out of your view again. You looked around yourself for good measure, extending your neck to locker over the larger barrels standing in the corners of the deck, but he had genuinely evaporated into the early day’s mist. A phantom of the sea.

But just because he was gone didn’t mean his presence was. You still felt his eyes on you, lurking from hidden darkness. Perhaps the darkness was in your own head, inner thoughts poisoning your sanity, but the feeling remained nonetheless.

Suddenly, the calm sea was anything but. Instead, the light sky seemed dull and grey, the waves bouncing off the ship aggressive. There was nothing peaceful about it left behind. There was nothing left for you there. But you remained steady in your place on the boat, looking out ahead at the horizon until the sun rising began to burn your eyes with its bright presence, and the wind blew harder. Only then did you decide, on your own devices, to head back down into the warmer discomfort of your enclosure.

You lay on the ground and threw that thin fleece over yourself, hoping to fall asleep and thus pass on the rest of the day. But, if Lady Luck was on your side, it would be one of the silent dreams that asked nothing of you but your mind, leaving it as it was. In fact, letting you rest from the horrors that were your life.

And so, the sleep came, but quiet it was not.

Flashes of the Red Tail. Flames, explosions, blood, it was all around you. Men dying over and over again. You tried to scream out, reach for them, and help them, but it was as if your body was stuck in the mud, unable to move. So you just had to stand there, helplessly, as you watched everyone around you die.

The pool of blood expanded over the sinking ship. The sky turned dark, almost black. You looked up to see the sun–that same sun that kissed you welcome mere minutes ago at the horizon– melting, enveloping everything in darkness. Once you looked back down, another urge to scream came over you.

A figure was standing not far from you, perhaps a few feet away. Covered in the blood that the ship was drowning in, from head to toe, he was basically dripping in it.

He smiled at you, a canine-baring grin. Then, slowly but steadily, he neared you.

“Oh, we’re going to have a lot of fun, princess, aren’t we?’

You awoke with a pitched scream.

Breathing heavily, just trying to get your heart back on a steady rhythm, the clanking of swords echoing in your head was doing everything against it. Just like that day on the Red Tail. Just like in your dream. You could still hear it, and it felt so real. Each loud hit of metal against metal made you wince. Cannons would follow soon. Then the blood…

But only the swords remained. It kept going and going. Then there were the footsteps. Heavy above you, making the whole ceiling shake. It felt like a stampede, in all honesty. And there was shouting. Boisterous clammer. Followed by crowded cheers and some clinking… that you could not immediately make out what it was supposed to be.

One thing you knew for sure, however. Whatever was happening above you, it could not mean anything good. It simply reminded you too much of that other day. That first day… or was it your last?

There was a fight ongoing on the deck. The question was, what kind? Were you being attacked? Would another group of men come down the ladder steps and haul you onto another ship? Will they cheer over Munson’s death as these men cheered over Carver’s? Would this circle of hell ever end?

No, it couldn’t be that. The cheering was too joyful and—was that laughter you could hear? Yes. Loud and boisterous. Right above your head. In a chorus. Your mind went to the evenings you had endured sleeplessly as the men jested until the sun rose, but when you looked out the window, you still saw the bright blue sky. So what was going on?

Against your better judgement, you took a risk, all in the thought of showing initiative and how powerful you would look walking out of the trapdoor onto the full deck. You just told yourself that enthusiastic cheering was a sign of no evil. It indicated that it was no malicious attack of another ship, that whatever you would encounter, there would be nothing to be afraid of. With that confidence, you climbed up there, pushed the trapdoor up and–

A blade wobbled back and forth as it deeply penetrated the deck's surface, inches away from your face. You held onto the edge of the floorboards, trying not to fall back down, as the scream that erupted from your lungs halted everything around you. Everybody in reach hooked his gaze on you if they weren’t fast enough to run up to the hole you were attempting to crawl out of. No one helped, of course. They just stared. Dozens of pairs of blank and cold eyes blinked arhythmically as the bodies they belonged to stood frozen in a circle, unsure of what to do next. The blade stuck in the wood still shifted in its new makeshift holster.

Then, much like on your very first day aboard, the circle opened up to reveal the captain. He stood several feet away, and you caught him blinking slowly before approaching you. Had he been hesitant to approach? Was he, though you doubted, startled to see you?

But whatever emotion it had been to cause his hesitance, it was gone as he spoke:

‘Just in time, darling!’ The silence was broken, and so was the tension your appearance had created.

He had an almost identical sword in his hand. Behind him stood one of his crew mates, face paling despite the grimace he was trying to pull off among his peers. He must have been who the captain dramatically disarmed, ending with that sword landing and nearly cutting your nose off. Was anyone feeling guilty for putting that fear upon you?

Highly unlikely.

The captain neared your trapdoor, leaning down on one knee and reaching his hand out to you, an attempt at some fair treatment toward; helping you get up onto the deck gracefully—you boldly refused. The idea of touching him… images your mind had conjured up in the night still pestered you and flashed past your eyes at the sight of his hand so near you. You looked away as your feet touched the deck for the second time that day. You hated the sight of him any given day, but this particular afternoon, it was even more of an unbearable sight.

The captain had abandoned his hat, opting to tie his hair with a red ribbon into a ponytail, failing to do so properly as strands were already escaping at the frame of his face. His long black coat and shirt also had been abandoned. It was a hot day, and with the training, he was most likely performing, the sweat on his chest was already forming, despite the cool breeze standing a strong fight with the sails.

A ghastly sight, truly, the sweat that slicked over the countless prints of black ink on his arms, chest and ribs. The ink barely covered the various scars in the same placements. Some were small, like the nicks of a blade. The new bright red cut across his clavicle would surely join that collage. Others were unmistakably older but must have once been deep flesh wounds, possible gunshots, bites, or the results of things you most likely would not even be able to fathom. It looked like a visual of a life of torture.

You blinked, letting his previous words settle in your mind. ‘In time for what?’ You looked around. All eyes remained on you since you had made your presence known, something you had fallen out of habit with. You were not used to getting so much attention anymore.

‘Training, of course.’ Munson easily pulled the blade out of the ship planks, handing it to you. ‘Has anyone ever taught you how to fight?’

‘No.’ It was unladylike to swordfight, scuffle, argue, or do anything you did at the time of your capture. The heft felt awkward in your grip, clearly too big for your hand, but the entire piece felt off-balance. It must have been a homemade contraption of one of the Hellfire crew. Possibly molten out of the treasures residing downstairs with you. You adjusted your grip on the sword, but nothing felt right.

Nothing you did slipped past the Captain, whose eyes were on you and his crew. He pursed out his bottom lip in a mocking pout.

‘A true pity.’ He swung his blade back and forth. Each swoosh in the air made you flinch. ‘maybe if someone had, you wouldn’t have ended up here with us.’ The chuckle started deep within him but evolved into a guttural laugh from the whole crew. The sound boiled your blood in anger as well as embarrassment. You wanted to attack their captain immediately but knew it wouldn’t end well. He looked you up and down with his casual smirk, and you made it a point to, somewhat confidently, keep your head up. No longer could he think he could just do whatever he pleased with you. ‘But there is always time to learn, I believe.’

‘I don’t want to fight you,’ you simply stated, looking down at the longsword clutched in your hand.

‘C’mon, princess,’ Munson swung his sword back and forth, ‘it’s no fighting. it’s just a bit of fun.’

‘I see no fun in useless acts of violence.’ Did any of your words sound profound? Confident? You were ready to hear another wave of laughter, but it did not come. The only response was a smirk of the captain, but not one you had seen before.

It wavered.

‘Don’t be like that, my darling.’ He recovered with his mockery, but you were no longer having any of it. With large strides, you closed the gap between you two across the deck. The men around you were split in moving back or getting ready to seize you if the situation required interference. The captain was among the former group. His stance shifted backwards as you met him, your chest nearly hitting his.

Your grip tightened on the sword, and he must have noticed it by how his eyes shifted down to your arm and back to your face.

A million different things ran through your mind; there were endless possibilities for relieving your anger at the man standing before you, all being the catalyst of events that you did not dare start. What were you to do?

Your nails dug into your hand as your fingers wrung the halt of the sword. With this object alone, you could do a hundred different things, most of which would result in only a worse situation for yourself.

You struck the blade down with as much power as you could muster. Like it had hit the planks in front of your face moments before, it now missed the captain’s feet by mere inches. He looked down, never moving anything but his eyes, and then looked directly at you again. His features were blank of expression; no fear or anger, but no amusement either.

‘Call me any of that again, and next time it won’t be the deck that gets it.’ You had dared to move closer, letting your faces nearly touch. That smell of cinnamon and rum greeted you again. A few seconds passed as you stood there, eyes piercing through one another. Your blood boiling, his chest heaving with deep, controlled breaths.

He did not respond.

Or at least not until you had turned to walk away.

‘I would love to see you try. It sure is easy making empty threats, prin–’ but he never got to finish his mockery. Perhaps because it was even easier to sound confident behind one’s opponent’s back, not looking them in the eye, that angered you. The fact that the man who threw you in a cage was, in reality, nothing but a coward. At that moment, all regard for your safety escaped you as you turned back on your heel and lunged your fist towards his face.

It must have hurt you more than him, but the pink mark across his cheek was established. You did not bother to await his reaction once more and walked away for good– as far as the circumstances allowed you, which was not far. The ship was only so big, and the circle of men had moved onto the trapdoor, locking you in the fresh afternoon air.

They were ready to retaliate for your aggression towards their captain, but his words boomed across all ears. ‘Stand back! I said stand back,’ he repeated when some still tried to reach for you. You passed the crew and made for the spot you had become familiar with over the morning. Trying to ignore everything behind you, you again reached the ship’s edge. Their voices lingered over everything, impossible to block out, but you let yourself focus on the ripples in the water as your anger subsided.

Not long now. You had already been so close to home when they took you, and it's been days. Surely, soon they would reach the shore of your home and give you back to your family. That idea somehow managed to overcome everything that was actually happening around you.

Though you had slept through most of it, it had been a long day, and signs of it were showing in the sky. Now turning a soft pink and orange as the sun began to set once more, the night was coming. With it, the stars. Would you stay outside long enough to look at them? It had been a sight you had missed properly gazing at the millions of twinkling lives above you, the constellations and the stories they told.

It would all depend on the men that had now resumed their sword-fighting practice.

The casualness of it all was actually rather comforting, as it, for once, did not bring back memories of the unfortunate ship you had bid farewell to but rather the surroundings of your father’s estate. There, men like Admiral Carver were standing guard or practising, but also young boys and girls who ran away from their mothers, pretending to be on great little adventures with large twigs for weapons. For a moment, you could swear you could smell the fresh flowers that bloomed outside your bedroom window, or the spices haggled for at the market in the harbour. There were cats meowing and dogs barking. To think that once you had grown tired of it all, yearned for something new in life, but now could not imagine anything greater than a return home…

Who knew how long you had stood there staring at the darkening horizon. Your thoughts must have sent you off into the distance from the ship, as you had not realised anything happening around you. The sea was quickly becoming a comfort. When looking out at it, you did not have to face the cruel reality of the Hellfire and the people upon it. The waters seemed so inviting and freeing that you couldn’t help but think if maybe walking the plank wasn’t always a punishment…

You had not even noticed the smile creeping up at the corners of your lips, but it never came to fruition as you were broken out of the spell.

‘Beautiful, isn’t it?’ the deep voice startled you, but you did not show it. In your short time aboard, and now being in actual contact with these scoundrels, there was one thing you had learned: To show fear to people like Munson, like the men on this ship, was possibly the stupidest thing a person like you could do. Letting fear control you would let them control you, playing right into their hand. Instead, display confidence and strength, which gets under their skin.

You glanced over as much as you could without physically turning in his direction. His long dark hair messily flowed with the wind now that he had released it from the ribbon. He was looking directly at you, making you grow hot with anger. Then, subtly rolling your eyes, you looked away again, back to the waters. That, however, did not stop the Captain from speaking again.

‘A view like this makes you think of how big the world is. How small you are.’ He held his dagger again in his left hand, twirling it mindlessly between his fingers. He was standing so close that your arms were brushing against one another. His gold and silver chains jingled at the slightest of movements. You tried to focus on that instead of his words. A task that turned out to be much more challenging than you had thought, as the Captain did not enjoy your rejection.

‘A bit of advice, princess,’ he leaned closer to you, his breath mixing with the wind. His nicknames for you would just have to lose their meaning in your head, as clearly, they were not going anywhere. ‘The silent treatment is not doing you any favours. On the contrary, my men like their girls quiet.’

‘Spare me, please,’ you hissed.

‘Believe me,’ he responded as if he could read your mind, ‘finding yourself on our ship has spared you enough,’ he let his head hang lightly askew, looking up at you with his large eyes, bemused– you could tell you had lost his one-sided game by speaking up. Then you might as well keep going.

‘Is that a threat?’ Just a reminder that even when you were not locked in a cage, you were not truly free or safe. Their danger constantly loomed over you.

‘Far from it, darling. I simply hope you know that there are much worse things out there,’ he leaned forward, forehead nearly touching yours as his hand reached out to the waters at your side to point at the waves with his blade. ‘You probably can’t even think up the horrors that live out in the wilderness of the oceans.’ What could he possibly know about your imagination? If only he knew that, at this specific moment, you were considering five different ways to gauge his honey eyes.

You turned to him directly now. His stare at you was cold and focused. The mark you had left on his cheek was now also unavoidable. It called to you and anyone who looked at him like a beacon of a lighthouse. That smile of yours from seconds before threatened to come out again, but you held it in. However unbothered he might have sounded at the strike, you did not believe that could have been it. There must have been a reason for his current approach. What you had done in front of his entire crew was unacceptable and certainly not inconsequential–you could not imagine that he had not set a punishment ready for you. And whatever it would be, you doubted it would be subtle or free of pain. Yet, you reminded yourself of the freshly taught lesson. Keep your head up. Don’t show your fear.

Not breaking eye contact, you decided to simply ask.

‘What is it that you want from me?’

And the Captain did not waste a second in his response.

‘See me in my quarters, darling.’

-Chapter 3-

thank you so much for reading!! if you want more of where this came from, check out my masterlist.

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taglist:

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@spiderrrling @theglitterymess @dorianelizabeth @theletterhart @pastel-abyss-x @ghoulsgraveyard @prettytoxix @lovesickollie @xbreezymeadowsx @meaganjm @mischiefmanagers @capybergara @brother-lauren @h0sh1verse @ghostlyreads @croweaterr @ladyapplejackdnd @bilesxbilinskixlahey @kbakery @liltimmyst @hellfire-state-of-mind @escape-in-time-x @miscelaa @sweetpeapod @eddiemunsonbby @mydearzero @overthewhiteclouds @wroteclassicaly @celestialsxturn @hoe4eddiemunson @inanausomewhere @scoops-harrington @fluffyharrington @billyhargrovesprincess @annikin-im-panicin @kaitieskidmore1 @yesv01 @princess-aries @m4riesworld @thesebitcheslovesosadotcom @dixontardis @nataliastranqe

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson au #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fic #pirate eddie munson #pirate eddie #enemies to lovers #pirate au #fanfiction #fanfic #fic #imagine #writing #pirate story

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the--last-great-american-dynasty · 6 months ago

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elizabeth swann and will turner getting married in the middle of a literal battle is such chaotic bisexual energy and i love them for it

#elizabeth swann #will turner #elizabeth x will #pirates of the caribbean #chaotic bisexual

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feysandfeels · 10 months ago

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LUISA READS FOURTH WING :)

Right fam, time for some dragon riding (non sexual… from what I have been able to gather)

Ngl, but reading (listening) the "a dragon without its rider is a tragedy, a rider without its dragon is dead" after seeing so many tiktoks about it and them being all epic, has me giddy, has me excited. Here we go.

So far we have a cunty yet caring elder sister, a dead dad, a rude as fuck mum, a dead brother (who apparently was beloved above all) and a girl severely lacking in calcium.

"you won't get any special treatment just for being my daughter" my sister in christ, what special treatment? so far you have been nothing like an ass.

I cannot judge Violet for wanting to take her books with her....but babygirl from what I have seen you truly have no strength.. so like..sugar.. either develop some muscle or like let it go.

What's so wrong about being a scribe? like what do you all have against academia?

Okay no wait... what are they prepping her for? What the fuck is this subscription day? isn't it like just first day of uni?? Is she fighting? is it a race? to like the first dragon they can find? the first tunnel of their respective career?

aaaaaaaand here comes the childhood friend with soft brown eyes that laughs with his whole body.

Seems like extremely poor parenting to send your extremly untrained daughter into such a challenge... like she has to climb some rocks... and like run a lot, there's going to be wind. Like no. And for what? for the glory of your name? SHE CAN'T EVEN LIFT HER OWN BOOKS!

Gotta love a "This isn't America's TOP BEST FRIEND" moment.

I'm sorry but how is conscribing (?) all children from the traitors to the best school in the kingdom/republic/empire/country and give them a solid ass chance of becoming riders, and therefore climb to the top of the social and military pyramid a fitting punishment? They should have ended their respective bloodlines. You rebel you and your entire bloodline die.

Colombian brain translating Xaden to Xavier.

I should have asked... can dragons talk in this world?

What is the parapit?? Is that how it is written?

Mira (?) is a badass. Queen behaviour.

Mira being like "don't die Violet, I'd hate to be an only child." And having seen her mother? Honestly same. Like no. Hard Pass.

Wait is the blonde guy she is befriending the one with the scar from the betrayal?? Dylan? yes? no?

Oh and they get to marry after graduating. Why do I feel I am walking straight into another early 20s marriage.

Most riders are legacies... good to see nepotism is alive and well. Neporiders.

Oh so Xaden has tattoos from his wrist up to his jaw.. okay, okay.

AND HIS FATHER KILLED HER OLDER BROTHER. AND THEY WERE ROOMATES!

My girl really went "He is #SoTall and #HandsomeAsHell"

I don't get what this challenge is about and apparently Dylan is not making it, he liked slipped or smth and is like hanging...

yeah no he fell to his death. RIP Dylan.

My girl is like screaming history facts to distract herself while she [insert the challenge.... I think it's walking a very slippery bridge]

Okay so Jack is an asshole... it's giving Cato.

Kinda want to bet that he will try to eventually fight Violet and Xaden will defend her.

Got confirmation, it is in fact a bridge.

Rihannon made it. Which is a personal win because she seems sweet.

Oh my god Jack focus on your own thing, you are being and asshole, no one cares. Fuck off, fall to your death, shut up. Like why are you so pressed about this random ass calcium lacking girl. GET A JOB. STAY AWAY FROM HER.

Not her reciting the codex lol it is giving Elizabeth Swann citing The Pirate Code to Captain Barbossa. Babygirl, bless you, but he clearly does not give a fuck.

Violet truly made that crossing out of delulu energy and history facts and honestly? respect.

Wait, hold the fuck on... this audiobook is 21h long? what on god's green earth is going to happen in this book? oh my god this thread is going to be huge. Apologies to all.

omg Jack why are you still talking? either shut up or jump infront of a dragon and die. LIKE WHY ARE YOU SO OBSESSED WITH HER? He is giving blonde guy energy (but not the one you gave Dylan. RIP Dylan. You will never be forgotten)

aaaaaahhh there we go Jack threatened her and when he makes the move to kill her Xaden will be like "the fuck bro" and kill him instead.

Here comes the childhood best friend. I feel he is hot. Dane? Dane Atos?? Kinda hot of him. Wait he is Squad Leader? that's hot.

#Luisa reads #Luisa reads Fourth Wing #I remember a year ago I was desperate to read it so here's hoping this is an entertaining read #a lot of mutuals love it so the hopes are high #Fourth Wing

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wouldadepressedpersonmakethis · 1 year ago

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Tier 3 (resistance members #finally)

RONAN FROST / nikolaj coster-waldau

leader of the resistance

anger management issues

intelligent/ruthless/loyal/stoic/calculating

not afraid to get his hands dirty

the ends justify the means

knows how to relax. doesn't.

secretly dealing w/ ptsd from the war but doesn't talk about it because #man

ciara made him laugh once and everyone thought he was broken.

SAOIRSE FROST / florence pugh / reserved by Kate AA

does not trust ciara at all

headstrong/independent

servant perhaps to local noble fam??? perhaps one that used to live where godfrey is currently living??

pining after one of the sons???

loves storytelling and often distracts the group in the evenings by making them up

is the youngest but sometimes the most mature????

lowkey thinks her bros are idiots sometimes but loves them more than anything in the entire world

can't see the guardians but sometimes can feel their presence and is always the one to make sure that they are still left offerings both at her own home and wherever it is that she works? and the resistance hideout too ofc

KALE BRENNAN / jonas armstrong / reserved by lizzy

lbr strong bbc robin hood vibes

i literally cannot help it

possibly bbfs with ronan and/or second in command

has a thing for sonya???? or possibly future daisy ridely character

the energy between him and cillian cannot be matched and ALICIA demands that they are not allowed to sit next to each other whenever they discuss business b/c they won't take anything seriously

??? / alicia vikander

keeps to herself

watches and listens/rarely speaks to people outside of this core group of friends

strategist!!!

deadly with a knife

~that scene from potc where elizabeth swann doesn't stop pulling out weapons hidden on her~

possibly in love w/ cillian frost and it annoys her

#the long forgotten realm

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randomestfandoms-ocs · 2 years ago

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New Descendants OCs

so as I mentioned, I’ve also made a shitton more descendants ocs, done some recasting, and revived some that I’d previously put on hiatus, so here’s a quick look while I wait for the energy to make the actual masterlists!

( other than Chessy, Addie, Nasira, and Mireya, these were all taken from a 2+ year old list of ideas that I just really wanted to complete, so no guarantees about how much fixation any individual will actually be getting )

Princess Addie; Ben’s younger sister ( by 1 year ), daughter of Belle and the Beast

Alina Romanova; daughter of Anastasia Romanov & Dimitri

Anissa Radcliffe in Ties That Bind; daughter of Anita and Roger Radcliffe ( revived oc )

Arden of DunBroch; Merida’s adopted daughter ( revived / recast oc )

Beatrice; Ben’s older sister, daughter of Beast and The Enchantress ( recast oc )

Bessie Sawyer; daughter of Tom Sawyer & Becky Thatcher

Blossom; Ben’s fairy / Ben ship ( recast oc )

Callista Gainey; daughter of Cassandra ( from Tangled the Animated Series )

Chessy Of Arendelle; redacted parents, adopted / raised by Anna & Kristoff, probable Ben ship ( inspired and developed with so much help from @the-witching-ash )

Eliane; elemental mentored by Elsa, sent to the isle, Harry Hook ship

Elise Charming; Chad Charming’s twin sister, daughter of Ella & Kit, Evie ship ( recast oc )

Gloria Gothel; daughter of Mother Gothel ( revived / recast oc )

Griffin; son of Grumpy

Halle Finn; daughter of Huckleberry Finn

Hannah Westergaard; daughter of Hans Westergaard ( revived oc )

Kate Turner; younger sister of Henry Turner, daughter of Elizabeth Swann & Will Turner

Keto Jones; daughter of Davy Jones, Harry Hook ship

Princess Kyra in Ties That Bind; Aziz’s twin sister, daughter of Aladdin & Jasmine ( revived / renamed oc )

Loveta Garou; daughter of the Big Bad Wolf

Lucette LeFou; daughter of LeFou, Harry & Uma ship

Maisie Gringore; daughter of Esmerelda & Phoebus ( revived / cast oc )

Maria Frollo in Long Live The Queen; daughter of Judge Frollo, Harry Hook ship ( recast oc )

Mireya Madrigal; Madrigal created by the candle’s magic

Myra Frollo; daughter of Judge Frollo & Cinderella ( recast oc )

Nasira; daughter of Raya & Namaari

Natalia of Maldonia; younger sister to Tristan, daughter of Tiana & Naveen

Nerina Sparrow; daughter of Jack Sparrow

Annette Nettie Tremaine; daughter of Anastasia Tremaine

Raina Gold; daughter of Rumplestiltskin

Raisa Rasputin; daughter of Rasputin

Robin Fitzherbert; Rylan’s twin sister, magically created daughter of Rapunzel, Flynn, and Cassandra

Roisin Spriggins; daughter of Red Riding Hood and Jack The Giant Slayer

Rylan Fitzherbert; Robin’s twin brother, magically created son of Rapunzel, Flynn, and Cassandra

Savina Stromboli; daughter of Stromboli

Sloane White in Ties That Bind; daughter of Snow White ( recast / revived / renamed oc )

Tristan Of Maldonia; Natalia’s older brother, son of Tiana and Naveen

Winona Sykes; Bill Sykes’ daughter

#descendants oc #new oc #oc updates

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seviiul · 4 months ago

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( writing rules + dni )

𝒐𝒏 𝒘𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈

𝒐𝒓

𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕'𝒍𝒍 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒎𝒐𝒅𝒐𝒓𝒆 𝒘𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆, 𝒘𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒘𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆, 𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒅𝒂𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒔

RETURN TO NAVIGATION

REQUESTS: OPEN

ASK BOX: OPEN

𝑨𝑹𝑻𝑰𝑪𝑳𝑬 𝑰 : 𝒇𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒐𝒎𝒔 𝒘𝒆 𝒘𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆 𝒇𝒐𝒓

— To say the least, I will strictly stick to writing for historical / fantasy esque fandoms ( assassin's creed, lord of the rings, the hobbit, pirates of the caribbean, our flag means death ). It is a possibility I could include more over time, but as of now this is it. The following is a list I composed of characters, just to be specific and create less disappointment for individuals who sought for someone I won't write.

ASSASSIN'S CREED

𝐈 :: Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad; Malik Al-Sayf

𝐈𝐈 :: Ezio Auditore de Firenze; Leonardo Da Vinci

𝐈𝐈𝐈 :: Connor Kenway; Haytham Kenway

𝐈𝐕: 𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐅𝐋𝐀𝐆 :: Edward Kenway

𝐑𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄 :: Shay Cormac; George Monro

𝐔𝐍𝐈𝐓𝐘 :: Arno Dorian; Elise De La Serre

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐃𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐄 :: Jacob Frye; Evie Frye

𝐕𝐀𝐋𝐇𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐀 :: Eivor Varinsson/Varinsdottir

TOLKIEN

𝐋𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 :: Frodo Baggins; Samwise Gamgee; Peregrine "Pippin" Took; Meriadoc "Merry" Brandybuck; Aragorn II Elessar; Legolas Thranduillon; Boromir; Faramir; Eomer; Eowyn

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐎𝐁𝐁𝐈𝐓 :: Bilbo Baggins; Thorin Oakenshield; Fili; Kili; Thranduil; Elrond; Lindir; Tauriel; Bard

PIRATES OF THE CARIBBEAN

Jack Sparrow

James Norringron

William Turner Jr.

Elizabeth Swann

OUR FLAG MEANS DEATH

Stede Bonnet

Edward "Blackbeard" Teach

Israel "Izzy" Hands

Jim Jimenez

(THIS LIST IS SUBJECT TO CHANGE)

𝑨𝑹𝑻𝑰𝑪𝑳𝑬 𝑰𝑰 : 𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒘𝒆 𝒘𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆, 𝒅𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒘𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆

— I don't have a specific preference for what format ( i.e. headcanons, oneshots, full on fics etc.) I would write things in, so you can expect a mix of all of them if I have the energy. I write for female, male, and gender neutral readers.

— I AM to include dark content in my writings: that includes things like violence/blood, yandere behavior, and alcoholism; but I WILL NOT get to rape or incest. Speaking of sex, I WON'T write any sexual content in general: the closest to that is suggestive content, like kissing/making out and touching. I won't write any angst either, simply because I'm bad at invoking sadness in writing.

𝑨𝑹𝑻𝑰𝑪𝑳𝑬 𝑰𝑰𝑰 : 𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝒓𝒆𝒒𝒖𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 / 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈

— My update schedule can be slow, or just generally very wonky considering I'm an IB student, and I additionally have ATROCIOUS procrastination issues. Basically, please have patience.

— Again, I do NOT write full on smut, rape, nor incest. Any request or ask hinting at that will be deleted immediately.

— I won't tell adults beyond something something age to not interact, as the fandoms I intend to write for ( assassins creed) would draw adult readers here anyway. But I need all of you, minors AND adults, to be mindful of what tags and warnings I include to the fics you read from me, as the dark content I write can be triggering to some people.

𝑨𝑹𝑻𝑰𝑪𝑳𝑬 𝑰𝑽 : 𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒅𝒂𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒔

— I would say people with any beliefs can come around, but I will not tolerate when the individual interacting with the blog is racist, homophobic, pedophilic, sexist, or religiously intolerant. Just don't be disrespectful in general.

— Do know that this is a minor - seventeen (07) - working behind this blog; you are in your right to block me if you don't want me to interact.

#💤 :: 𝒑𝒔𝒚𝒄𝒉𝒆'𝒔 𝒄𝒓𝒂𝒅𝒍𝒆 #what i write #fandoms i write for #writing #what I don't write #dni #boundaries

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enwrcorsetry · 1 year ago

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Artifact: 1874 Lecture by Dr. Safford-Blake (requires NetBadge login)

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The linked document above is a book containing the transcripts of multiple lectures on the topic of women's dress, delivered in Boston in 1874. The lecture of focus in this artifact is the first, by Mary J. Safford-Blake, M.D. As indicated by the title, the lectures center around the health effects of dress, however that will not be the focus of this analysis. Instead, one short, almost throw-away line from Dr. Safford-Blake's lecture forms the center of this analysis, for this line reveals and reflects an incredibly important rhetorical trope used in many anti-corsetry artifacts: the tendency to (over)emphasize the immobilizing nature of corsets to such an extent that the actual work regularly performed by historic corseted women is ignored or overwritten.

When discussing contemporary corset-wearing, Dr. Safford-Blake appeals to stereotypes of the past:

I cannot believe that the earnest, thinking women of America will ever cease to demand it as a right and a privilege to dress so that they can meet unfettered the duties that they assume or that are thrust upon them. Now, health, strength, and energy are exhausted in the friction that results from carrying superfluous burdens, – burdens which have been handed down to them from an age when women were passive instead of active members of society. The trailing and décolleté dress of the salon is historically one of the relics of the period of lust, when women were shut out of the kingdom of thought, and were linked with men only in bonds of sensuality. (Safford-Blake pp. 37-38)

The important rhetorical work of this section centers around the statement that, in the past, "women were passive instead of active members of society," implying that historic women (that is, women that were already historic in Dr. Safford-Blake's time) were not actively performing labor and work, but were instead "passive" and immobile. Regardless of Dr. Safford-Blake's feminist intentions (she wishes to liberate her fellow women), her rhetorical choice in constructing a "passive" stereotype for historic women is itself anti-feminist, as it erases and ignores the actual work regularly performed by women in the past.

This contemporary move to erase historic women's contributions is implicitly reverberated in modern depictions of corset-wearing women, including those of Dr. Safford-Blake's era. For example, in the previous artifact from the Pirates of the Caribbean, Elizabeth Swann's complete immobility, combined with an assumption that many historic women were similarly immobile due to their corsets, makes room for the dangerous assumption that women of the past were so immobilized by their corsets that they could not, and thus did not, perform labor, an inaccurate and anti-feminist conclusion.

This tendency to emphasize the immobilizing nature of corsetry to the detriment of the legacy of working women will be a central theme for these artifacts going forward; as discussed in the Mapping Document, it will be referred to as the Delicate Doll Trope, because this trope narrows down the supposed capabilities of corseted women, erasing the capacity for labor until a historic woman is viewed as nothing more than a delicate doll placed on a shelf.

Click here to return to the mapping document.

#delicate doll trope #immobility

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ignisrose · 4 years ago

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this picture radiates something

i just can't put my finger on what it is

#jk i lied #i know exactly what it is #it's gayness #this pic absolutely radiates queer energy #elizabeth swann #james norrington #pirates of the caribbean #potc #keira knightley #jack davenport #pirate #lgbt+

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r-osehips · 3 years ago

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nearly 11pm on a Saturday night? perfect time to post an update!

here's a chapter in which James [redacted], Elizabeth [even more redacted], and James and Elizabeth [most redacted of all]. enjoy!

#yes im very tired yes i know this is a bad summary oh well! hopefully the chapter is good at least #it has been sitting in my drafts for everrr and i finally had the energy to (somewhat) fix the scene that wasn't working so. here it is #pirates of the caribbean #norribeth #james norrington #elizabeth swann #fic #my fic #ttydfl fic

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anonymousewrites · 6 months ago

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Pearl of the Sea Chapter Three

Found Family! PoTC Cast x Teen! Reader

Platonic! Will Turner, Elizabeth Swann, Jack Sparrow, Tia Dalma x Reader

Chapter Three: Commandeering the Interceptor

Summary: Jack, Will, and (Y/N) escape Port Royal to go after Elizabeth.

Mouse Note: I'm back! I'm so so happy to be back to posting!

(Y/N), Will, and Jack ran under the bridge near the harbor. They had escaped the fort and the town, but until they had escaped Port Royal entirely and were on the open seas, they weren’t in the clear.

“We’re going to steal a ship?” said Will. His eyes widened as he saw which one Jack was looking at. “That ship?” It was a massive ship, the Dauntless, one of the finest under Norrington’s command.

“Commandeer,” said Jack. “We’re going to ‘commandeer’ that ship. Nautical term.”

(Y/N) snorted.

“One question about your business, boy, laddie, or there’s no going.” Jack looked at them. “This girl. How far are you willing to go to save her?”

“I’ll kill for my sister,” said (Y/N).

“I’d die for her!” said Will.

“Oh, good, no worries then,” said Jack. The pair certainly had commitment.

He led them to several rowboats and snuck under one. Carefully, they carried it into the water, and (Y/N) and Will followed since they recognized it would disguise them from sight as they approached the ship.

The physics of the water and the rowboat at the bottom of the bay provided them with air while they walked closer. The moment (Y/N) touched the water, they found themself smiling. They couldn’t help it.

“This is either madness or brilliance,” said Will as they walked across the sandy harbor floor.

“It’s remarkable how often those traits coincide,” said Jack.

“As long as we make it, I don’t care which it is,” said (Y/N).

Fortunately, that moment turned out to be more brilliance than madness, and once near the boat, they pushed upwards and swam. Jack led the way, grabbing a rope and climbing up the side of the boat. Will tread water and made sure (Y/N) grabbed on next and climbed. Their arms burned pleasantly as they finally exerted all the energy they had, and they felt strong and capable as they went.

The three arrived at the helm, and Will drew a cutlass. Jack had his pistol in hand, and (Y/N) had a sword Will had grabbed for them before they headed to the harbor.

“Everyone, stay calm!” said Jack, announcing their presence to the soldiers aboard. “We are taking over the ship.”

“Aye! Avast!” said Will.

The soldiers stared in surprise before bursting out laughing at Will’s pirate-talk. (Y/N) rolled their eyes.

“This ship cannot be crewed by two men and a child,” jeered the officer aboard, Gillette. “You’ll never make it out of the bay.”

“Uhuh, right,” said (Y/N).

“Son,” said Jack, grinning and pointing his pistol between Gillette’s eyes. “I’m Captain Jack Sparrow. Savvy?”

Gillette swallowed and stepped back. (Y/N) tilted their head and smiled “innocently.”

“I’d suggest you get into your lifeboats,” they chirped.

Will looked at (Y/N), slightly concerned. That was a new tone of voice—slightly threatening, very self-assured. He knew that they were always playing a role around Swann and “civilized” society, but the seamless switch as if this was always inside them was disconcerting (if Will was honest, though, he also found it impressive).

Jack gestured to the boats with his pistol. “Now, if you please.”

The sailors scrambled to obey, and soon, it was just Jack, Will, and (Y/N). Unfortunately, it was true that they could not leave the harbor with just three people.

As they tried to unfurl sails, Gillette drifted with his sailors towards shore and shouted to Norrington, making his own preparations. “They’re taking the Dauntless! Commodore! They’re taking the ship!”

Norrington grabbed his spyglass and looked towards the rowboat to see Gillette shouting wildly.

“Sparrow, Turner, and the Governor’s ward! They’re taking the Dauntless!” cried Gillette.

Norrington trained his spyglass on the three figures on the Dauntless. “Rash, Turner. Too rash.” He was also quite surprised at the gall of (Y/N), a teenager, joining a pirate and apprentice blacksmith to steal a ship and escape to sea. “How terrible, a childhood rebellion. Disgraceful.” He tsked. “That is without a doubt the worst pirate I have ever seen.”

Aboard the Dauntless, the trio were preparing for Norrington to arrive.

“Here they come,” warned Will.

Jack grinned.

(Y/N) noted it and cocked their head. “You were hoping for that, weren’t you?”

Jack looked at them. “One of you is bright! Well, that’s good!”

Will scoffed. “What’s your plan, then, Jack?”

“Let them come aboard!” said Jack.

He ran to the stern to hide as the Interceptor approached. Will and (Y/N) followed, and they watched as the Interceptor threw grapples over to the Dauntless and swung over to search for them. All the sailors climbed over, and Norrington looked over the deck angrily.

“Come alone!” said Jack, grabbing a rope. He swung over to the Interceptor, now empty.

(Y/N) grinned, grabbed a rope, and swung. Will was right behind them.

“Laddie, cut us free!” said Jack, swaggering across the deck.

(Y/N) swung their sword across all the of the ropes tying the ships together, and the sails caught the wind. The Interceptor moved forward, leaving the Dauntless alone. Norrington whirled as he spotted it sailing away.

“Sailors, back to the Interceptor, now!” ordered Norrington.

Several men grabbed ropes and tried to swing across, but the Interceptor, one of the fastest ships at sea, was already ahead of the Dauntless, and the men were sent flying into the ocean.

Jack grinned and waved his hat to Norrington. “Thank you, Commodore, for getting us ready to make way! We’d have had a hard time by ourselves!”

The Dauntless couldn’t be prepared by three people, but the Interceptor had been prepared by a large crew. It would just be steered by three people, quite doable for a bit.

(Y/N) let out a laugh at Norrington’s frustrated expression and how well the plan had turned out. Not to mention…they were out on the sea, the one place they’d been forbidden from going to. (Y/N) had the wind at their back and the salty sea air to breath.

(Y/N) let out another laugh.

Jack and Will looked at them, but they just grinned wider.

For some reason, despite the danger they were sailing towards, they had never felt better.

“When I was a lad living in England, my mother raised me by herself,” said Will as they sailed peacefully. He sharpened his cutlass as the wind took the Interceptor open the open seas. “After she died, I came out here, looking for my father.”

“Is that so?” Jack really wasn’t paying attention and was taking care of the ship.

“My father, Bill Turner?” Will stood and followed Jack towards the helm. “It was only after you learned my name that you agreed to help.” (Y/N) looked at Will and Jack. “Since that’s what I wanted, I didn’t press the matter.” Jack ignored him. “I’m not a simpleton, Jack. You knew my father.”

(Y/N) looked up at Jack as he paused before facing Will properly.

“I knew him,” said Jack. “Probably one of the few people that knew him as William Turner. Everyone else called him ‘Bootstrap’ or ‘Bootstrap Bill.’ ” He turned away.

Will frowned. “Bootstrap?” he repeated.

“Good man. Good pirate,” said Jack casually.

Will looked at Jack in confusion, and (Y/N) tilted their head. They hadn’t expected that.

“I swear, you look just like him,” said Jack.

“It’s not true. He was a merchant sailor,” said Will. “A good, respectable man who obeyed the law.”

(Y/N) winced. They doubted Jack was lying because he didn’t have a reason to, but Will clearly didn’t want to listen to it.

“He was a bloody pirate, a scallywag,” said Jack, turning back to the helm.

“My father was not a pirate!” Will drew his sword.

“Will, let’s not do this,” said (Y/N), looking at the sword warily.

“Put it away, son,” said Jack. “It’s not worth you getting beat again.”

“You didn’t beat me. You ignored the rules of engagement,” said Will. “In a fair fight, I’d kill you.”

“That’s not incentive for me to fight fair, is it?” said Jack.

“I don’t think there is such thing as a fair fight,” said (Y/N), sitting back and folding their arms. “If someone is more skilled than the other, then it’s not fair fundamentally. People just try to make themselves feel better by having ‘rules.’ Real world is a little wilder.” Like the sea.

Jack and Will paused and looked at them after that strange speech. Honestly, (Y/N) was a little surprised, too. They had just spoken their mind, something they only did with Will and Elizabeth. And they had enjoyed it, letting whatever words or opinions they had—no matter how against society they may be—be spoken aloud.

“…Where did you come from?” said Jack.

(Y/N) shrugged. “Found in the ocean. I don’t know anything more than that.”

“…” Jack and Will looked at them. Jack glanced at Will, who shrugged as if saying “it’s the truth, no matter how weird it is.”

“You have a strange way of talking, laddie, but you’re right!” said Jack jovially. “On the seas, there are only two things that matter—what a person can do and what a person can’t do.” He looked at Will. “For instance, you can accept that your father was a pirate and a good man, or you can’t.” He looked at (Y/N). “And you can accept that the ‘civilized’ gents want somethin’ tamer in the world, or you can’t.” He grinned at both. “But pirate is in your blood, mate, and the sea is in yours, laddie. You’ll have to square with that someday.”

“And what about you?” (Y/N) looked at him. “What can or can’t you do?”

“I can lead this ship astray and not work with ya, but I can’t bring this ship into Tortuga by me onesies,” said Jack brightly. “So. Can you sail under the command of a pirate? Or can you not?”

Will hesitated before sheathing his sword. “Tortuga?”

Jack grinned. “Tortuga.”

“What is Tortuga?” asked (Y/N).

“The greatest town a pirate would ever want to step onto land in,” said Jack.

(Y/N) stood at the front of the ship and leaned over the side. They gazed at the water rushing by below. The sun had lowered in the sky and sent streaks of light dancing across the waves. The highlights illuminated fish jumping up from the water, and (Y/N) smiled. With the wind whipping their hair and the smell of the sea flying around them, (Y/N) had never felt better. They felt free, like they were the waves themselves rushing by. They knew this was only a brief moment, one that would end as soon as they saved Elizabeth, but it was still nice. (Y/N) felt like themself.

From the helm, Jack and Will watched them lean over the water below. Will was tense, waiting for them to topple overboard, but they hadn’t despite how long they’d been sitting there.

“Mate, you’re gonna explode before we get to Tortuga,” said Jack.

“I don’t want them to get hurt,” said Will. “Elizabeth would never forgive me if something happened to them. I would never forgive myself.”

Jack looked at (Y/N). “The lad seems fine. They’ve got good sea legs.”

Will frowned. “Yes, but they were found floating into the harbor. That means the sea is dangerous for them.” He sighed. “There’s a reason we want them to stay away from the ocean. We don’t them to be lost again. Whoever their family was, they lost them to the sea. We won’t want them to lose us or their own lives.”

“Mate, the seas are the seas,” said Jack, leaning back. “Better to let them understand it than fear it.”

Will glanced at Jack. For the playful pirate, it was an usually philosophical comment. He looked back at (Y/N), who looked like they would lean out and touch the ocean if given a chance.

He hated to admit it, but Jack was right. The ocean was dangerous, that couldn’t be changed. Yet (Y/N) always sought it out, no matter how many times they were warned off. Perhaps Jack was right—even if he was just making an offhanded comment—and (Y/N) should be allowed to be with the sea in order to not fear it. Not that they seemed to. They wanted to be with the ocean more than most people.

Will sighed. He wasn’t cut out for this, worrying so much for Elizabeth and (Y/N). It couldn’t be good for his health.

But he did. He cared too much not to.

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