#potc reader insert

[witchthewriter]

𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒕𝒍𝒆 𝒃𝒍𝒖𝒓𝒃 𝒊𝒏𝒔𝒑𝒊𝒓𝒆𝒅 𝒃𝒚 𝒎𝒚 𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒐𝒇 Jack & his chaotic s/o

⤷ gender neutral, ambiguous race, and any size reader. Requests are open, thank you for reading!

ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ | ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ ᴵᴵ

'Relentless...' the word hadn't left you alone since you'd woken up this morning. Like most mornings, you found yourself warm in Jack's arms, the smell of rum on his lips as he kissed you awake.

With the shared blanket tucked into your side, Jack hummed one of the hearty tunes from last night into your neck. Murmuring, you allowed yourself to bask there for a few moments until you were fully awake.

The swaying of the Black Pearl was something you loved. Even in rough seas, you're the first one soundly asleep. And yet, unease wrangled itself in your stomach. Coiling and uncoiling it went, alerting you.

Seconds passed before you wiggled your body away from Jack, and he let you get up with a sigh.

You were about to say something when a thunderous noise broke out on deck.

"Always so bloody loud," he grumbled, voice gruff from sleep.

The air was crisp from the cold. A heavy fog set around the Pearl. Unnecesarily heavy it was, but you heeded it no mind. Too occupied in your own thoughts to comprehend the lurking dangers.

"Maybe the right one to use is ... unrelenting..." You thought out loud.

Until you heard a pained cry and the reason for your wariness became so utterly clear.

Dark clouds swirled above you, swords clashed and you pulled your sword from its scabbard.

"How the 'ell did they find us, aye?" You heard from your right, Jack said as he adjusted his hat.

With that unanswered question hanging in the air, your body took over with the knowledge of engagement. Left, right, block, parry. On and on.

Until you paused mid fight with the soldier.

Your brows furrowing. Arms coming to cross over your chest as you pondered. This happened from time to time. You forgetting where exactly you were to get lost within your mind. But you were always safe. It was as if luck was on your side...

And Luck had just diverted a shiny sharp dagger from embedding itself in you.

With a loud clash, you felt a familiar presence. One blade put you in danger, but another, the dagger of luck, saved you from a death blow.

"What is it, love?" Jack said slightly out of breath. Unbothered by the fact that he saved your life by an inch.

"Well... is it relentless?"

"What is-", Jack was stopped mid-sentence and kicked the running soldier. "Bloody hell," he sneered.

"Fuckin' hurt that did."

Mind lost to your whirling brain, you couldn't help your thoughts.

"Or is the proper word unrelenting? You know-" your attention turned to Jack. Now fully facing him, Jack had a bloody nose and a split right across his eyebrow.

He cut you off, already knowing Gibbs' had ensured the crew's victory.

Quite literally grabbing you and sweeping you off your feet he mumbled, "well, whatever the correct word is; that's what my love is for you."

"Oh Jack, stop ..." You blushed and moved to give him a kiss on the cheek.

[enby-jellyfish]

Caribbean Night

Captain Hector Barbossa X GN!Reader (POC friendly)

Pronouns: You/Your

Summary: As dark thoughts about your cursed existence threaten to consume you, you find comfort in your captain.

Warnings: Depressive thoughts, canon typical body horror

Word Count: 1338

A/N: THIS GROSS OLD MAN IS MY ACTUAL WIFE!?!?!??!

It is a cold night on the Caribbean sea, or so you assume, it is not like you are capable of feeling it.

The crew is celebrating below deck, we found three pieces of the cursed of Aztec gold today. Three pieces closer to being human again. Only one of the eight hundred eighty two left, we are getting so close.

Despite this victory you cannot find it in yourself to celebrate. You climb up on deck and wander over to the Pearl's railing.

As you trace the grooves in the black wooden planks with the tips of your fingers you listen to the faint sounds of the crew celebrating, the waves of the sea gently beating against the hull, and the rigging knocking against the masts.

It is peaceful. And yet you feel anything but.

Before your depressing chain of thought can begin to spiral you feel a sudden, familiar weight on your shoulder.

"Heya, Jack." You scratch the capuchin’s head and he makes a small noise of content, closing his eyes for a moment before jumping down from your shoulder onto the railing next to your hand. You notice something shiny in his hands.

"Whatcha got there?" You questioned the monkey, already knowing the answer. He proudly holds up the golden coin to show you and confirms your suspicions.

You manage to fish a few non-cursed coins out of your pocket and hold them up to him. "Care to trade?"

Jack looks between you, the coins, and the golden piece for a second, torn between the options. You hold out your hand closer to him, shaking the coins, causing them to make a clinking sound.

"C'mon, when have you ever refused new shiny trinkets?" As if he could understand you he snatched up the coins and dropped the golden piece into your expecting hand and ran off, presumably to his owner.

You look at the coin in your hand, tracing the intricate markings with your thumb. The heavy gold pressing down into your palm, it is heavier than other gold coins you’ve handled, though you suppose that is because of the curse. You can’t tell whether the coin is warm or cold.

You let out a deep sigh. Your soul is full of longing for a state of being you haven’t experienced in too many years. You ache to taste again, to feel again, to be alive again.

The sound of heavy boots approaching catches interrupts your thoughts full of grief over your past life. You don’t need to look up to know who those boots belong to.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?”

Turning around you face your captain, Jack is perched on his shoulder.

“If only it wasn’t. Would have saved us a whole lot of trouble…” You sigh out, handing him the coin and turning back to the railing, looking out over the dark sea, moon hidden behind the clouds.

Barbossa hands the coin to Jack an tells him to put it with the others. You hear the pitter patter of the monkey’s little feet on the deck as you feel your captain lean on the railing next to you.

“Why aren’t you celebratin' with the rest of the crew?” He questions, you can feel his eyes on you.

You start tracing the wood again. “Didn’t feel like celebrating.”

“Aye, I suppose I can understand that.” You hear a pain in his voice, a pain you share.

“I miss feeling the rain.” You lament. It has been so long.

“I miss feeling the sun.” He speaks, gaze upon the horizon. You look at him, the light of the lit lanterns framing his sorrowful face. You can see every detail of his face so clearly.

You catch yourself staring before he can and turn your gaze back to the sea. If you weren’t undead you would be able to feel warmth spreading over your cheeks by now.

“Do you believe we can actually do it, break the curse? I mean, we’ve lost the kid before.” The question falls from your lips before you could take the time to think the repercussions of such a question aimed at your captain through.

Luckily he doesn’t take it in a bad way and decides to tease you instead. “Not losing faith in me are ye?” You laugh at that, suddenly feeling more at ease.

“Please, I have been with you since the Cobra. I helped pull you from the wreck if you care to recall.”

Now he’s laughing as well, a barking sound you haven’t heard in ages. Both of you shift to face each other.

“Aye, ye have been loyal since the very beginning, that be true.” He closes moves closer to you as he speaks, shoulders bumping into one another. It feels good. Comforting.

“How could I not? You accepted me into your crew when no one else would. You took care of me, and still do. I thank you for that.” You speak softly and earnestly, causing the mood to switch to something more vulnerable. You have been wanting to get that off your chest for so long now.

He smiles softly at you. Well, as softly as an aged sea-hardened pirate like himself can manage. “It has been a genuine pleasure to have ye aboard.” He nods his head in a mock-bow.

You smile at that, staring into those piercing blue eyes of his, finding him to be staring back into yours.

You lose yourself for a moment. Your mind coming up with a whirlwind of what ifs about possible scenarios with him. In these fantasies you would be happy, alive, with him.

Your wishful thoughts were interrupted by the moon appearing from behind the clouds it was previously hidden. You watched as the moonlight revealed your true selves, flesh melting away to reveal the cursed undead skeleton appearance underneath.

You bring your hand up to inspect it. Even after so many years it was still a shock to see the withered bones.

“C’mon.” Barbossa takes your skeleton hand into his own and gently leads you toward his cabin.

Once inside, hidden from the moonlight, you don’t look dead anymore.

Barbossa sits you on a chair near his desk, still holding your hand, running his calloused fingers across the back of your hand in a soothing motion.

You close your eyes for a second, letting out a deep sigh while hiding your face in your free hand. You would be crying if you could.

Barbossa’s free hand reaches towards your chin and gently tilts your head to face him. “Now, none of that. No point in mopin’ around. We will get our lives back, I promise ye that.” He mumbles, your faces are but a few inches away.

“Swear to me.” The sentence came as a mere whisper.

He kneels down to your level, his lips almost touching yours as he whispers your name. “I swear to ye, upon the very stars guiding our way, under the watchful eye of any deity willing to bear witness.” The hand holding your chin drifts towards the point where your jaw meets your neck.

“Captain, I-”

“Hector.”

“Hector, I-”

Your eyes flit down towards his lips. They are chapped, but then again, yours are probably as well.

A pause. Then your lips finally meet.

You don’t feel the familiar warmth or contentment you have come to associate with kissing over the years, and yet it is the best kiss you believe you’ve ever had.

Hector parts from you for a moment, forehead resting against yours, eyes closed. “We will find Bootstrap’s little whelp, and the cursed final piece he sent away.” He presses his lips to yours again in a sweet peck. “If I have to sail to the very ends of the world to find them.”

His lips are on yours again before you can find the words to reply. The slightest flicker of comfort blooms inside of you.

You may be cursed, but right here, right now your existence doesn’t seem so hopeless as it did before.

Pirates of the Caribbean Masterlist

Masterlist

Thank you for reading <3

[hannaswritingblog]

Imagine: Jack Sparrow and James Norrington getting jealous of you

Fandom: Pirates of the Caribbean

Suggested by anon [x] – I really hope that this imagine is at least close to what you had in mind and that you like it! And if you have any other suggestions, my inbox is always open. 😊

You're walking down a pier in the Port Royal harbour, trying to clear your mind. Everyone's been waiting for James Norrington to be promoted to Commodore for a while now and today, on a day of the official ceremony, the area is buzzing with excitement.

Being a part of James's immediate circle, you should feel that excitement too. Deep in your heart you certainly do. But at the same time you can't help but wonder how your life would've gone if you didn't abandon your life at sea. Your life as a pirate...

Lost in your thoughts, you don't realise you're not alone anymore until you feel a tap on your shoulder, forcing you to turn around only to see the soon-to-be Commodore next to you.

"Is something bothering you, Y/N?" Norrington says, smiling softly.

"Oh, it's... nothing, James. Nothing's bothering me. I was just thinking about... my past."

His smile immediately fades away, but he manages to keep his composure as he tells you:

"You don't have to worry about your past. Nobody around knows that you were a pirate except me, and I intend on keeping your secret safe, just as I promised."

"Thank you. But... you know who was my captain during my time as a pirate, right?"

A solemn expression crosses his face before he says:

"Yes. Yes, I know. And it doesn't change a thing."

Deep down you know it changes a lot, but neither of you is going to admit it. But even though his pride must be hurt, you appreciate that James is steady in his promise.

"I'm glad. If you could give me one more minute alone though. I'll join you soon."

"Of course."

He bows to you slightly and walks away. You wait for Norrington to be gone from your sight before reluctantly following him.

On your way out of the harbour you pass a familiar figure. It takes you a second to realise where you know the person from, but once you do, you can't help but turn around and call out:

"Jack!"

"Oh. So it really is you, Y/N," Jack Sparrow says, walking back to you. "Didn't expect to see you around, sweetie."

"As if it wasn't where you dropped me off last time we saw each other," you respond.

"Okay, so maybe I knew I'd find you here. But not in the company of an officer of the Royal Navy, for sure."

"Oh, Norrington? He's just a..." You stop for a second when you notice that Jack's usual sly smile is now gone. "Wait... are you jealous?"

"What, me? Jealous? Of some officer? Never." Only when you raise an eyebrow at him, he admits: "Okay. I might be just a little jealous. But if this is how you live now..."

"Yes. I believe it is."

"...then I won't try to change your mind."

Something in your heart stings, as if you wanted him to try. You almost ask him to, but instead you catch yourself saying:

"Thank you. I still hope you'll stick around; Norrington is promoted to Commodore today, it's a chance to have some fun."

"You should stop tempting me, Y/N. A chance to have a good time and be in your presence? I reckon I shall stick around."

Jack sends you a smile before you part ways. And that smile is how you know he's back to his usual self and besides the fun, you can definitely expect some trouble.

[discordsmuse]

I wanna say that I’m absolutely in love with Captain Barbossa, I’m incredibly down bad. I absolutely devoured your fics I need more frfr. Especially the 18+ ones. There aren’t enough.

Whenever you see this, I would love to bounce ideas of this man absolutely being p*ssy drunk with reader pushing them away whimpering from overstim orrrr reader being c*ck drunk, climbing into hectors lap at his desk, taking his c*ck out and warming him and leaning into him.

SURPRISE! I promise I read my ask messages

Read HERE on Ao3—Full drabble under the cut

[THIS IS SMUT, PWP, READER BEWARE lol]

With Tia Dalma's magic, Hector had returned to life voracious in all manners. He ate food as if it were his last meal, drank his fill of anything he could get his hands upon. Even his lust could not be slaked, not when presented with the sight of your wet cunt.

Any time not spent tending to Tia Dalma's cabin or running errands for the witch were spent being corralled into the small bedroom you shared since his revival. Hector cared little for when or where. If he could get you bare before him, it mattered not the time of day. When his appetite demanded it, he was swift to comply.

Today, Barbossa was hungry.

“Fuck, Hector!” Your hands pressed at his forehead, knocking back his hat to the floor. Your fingertips dug into the scarf that kept back his hair in an effort to ground yourself.

Barbossa's palm pressed your thigh against the bedsheets, uncompromising as he held you still. His strength, now returned, was used to cling to you while his mouth remained sealed around you. When his tongue wasn't circling your clit, it pressed inside you and curled against the spot that made you whine. Every few moments, the seal of his mouth would break and you could hear the slick, wet sound of his slurping.

The bed beneath you was wet with spit and your arousal. The sheets stuck to your skin even when your hips jumped from the mattress to chase the pleasure Hector's mouth provided. Every such motion was met with a growl from the man between your legs as Barbossa held you down.

Hector was unrelenting. Even when he pulled away for seconds to catch his breath, his eyes were hazy with lust and his mouth glistened with slick. His beard was wet with it, and still he dove back for more.

Your blood felt like it was on fire. Every circle around your clit, every kiss and suck and curl of his tongue was rapidly bordering on too much. Sweat beaded on your forehead, heat flushed your chest and cheeks. Your grasping hand pulled hard enough on Hector’s hair to earn a moan that vibrated through your nerves and shattered you.

Your orgasm exploded through you like black powder igniting. Your eyes pinched shut, and his name whined from your throat in a raw and desperate way. Every muscle in your body tensed and went limp against him as the bliss washed away any other thought in your mind.

This didn't stop Barbossa, who slowed his mouth for only a moment before kissing your clit again.

The overstimulation skittered over your skin and left goosebumps in its wake. His fingers had joined his mouth in your slow torture, pressing up against the walls of your cunt while he returned his tongue to your clit. It was too much. Pleasure burned through you so hot that you were certain you'd turn to ash in his hands.

The second orgasm took all the air from your lungs with it. Your fingers knotted into Hector's hair and pulled taut. This time, you'd pulled hard enough that your Captain groaned against your cunt. If you'd been any less than half-delirious, you might have seen his hips jump forward in his body's desperate attempt at friction.

Your mind was too fuzzy with the blissful haze of two orgasms to notice, though. Your eyes stared at the thatched ceiling, looking but not seeing while sparks still danced in the corners of your vision. It wasn't until you felt your lover's lips press kisses to your stomach that you found your ability to speak again.

“God, please!” You wriggled your hips, head pressed back into the mattress as your eyes fluttered shut. Weak hands pushed at his head to shove him away, but he merely chuckled at the attempts.

“Nay, no god about.” Barbossa nipped at your thigh, leaving a wet kiss to your skin to soothe it. “What're you pleading for, lass?”

“Just a moment, please.” Your voice sounded so meek. You were robbed of sense, boneless from the pleasure that still fluttered through you like butterflies.

The request made Hector grin, but he acquiesced and sat back on his heels. Smug delight decorated every inch of his face. He smoothed a hand over his beard and wiped some of the mess on the sheets that hung over the side of the bed.

Before long, two warm fingers slid back inside you. The touch produced a weak cry from your throat. Hector curled his fingers as he pulled them out, taking them between his lips to lick your cum from them. The sight sent a new wave of heat right to your core.

“One more for me, lass.” Hector didn't ask, didn't entreat it of you. He said the sentence like he might order his crew about. There was no room for complaint or denial. No place to disagree.

“I can't,” you whimpered still.

“You can. Just one more.” Barbossa was already kissing your thighs while his thumb stroked the bare skin above your knee. “One more for me.”

Your hands abandoned his hair when his lips brushed your clit again. Instead, they grappled for purchase in the bed. You clung to the sheets like they might save you from the white-hot pleasure that replaced your very marrow. A part of you worried you'd ignite in a blaze. Every wet lap of Barbossa's tongue sent you closer and closer to another orgasm.

You weren't certain you'd survive it.

Still, it washed over you in a wave of heat. Every muscle whined with the effort and your back arched from the bed before you fell back to the mattress in a daze. You felt like you were floating and flying while sinking into nothingness all at once.

Hector had risen from the ground to push back the hair that had stuck to your forehead amidst your thrashing. He must have wiped his face again, because the kisses he pressed to your face now were soft and gentle. An attempt to soothe you.

“Good lass,” Barbossa purred. His tender hands smoothed under your back and around your waist. As he lifted you, boneless in his arms, he carried you to the desk chair and cradled you in his lap. Your head rested in the crook of his shoulder, arms limp around his waist. Hector stroked the bare skin of your back while you recovered, murmuring praise against your hair.

When your sense returned, slow and sweet as molasses, you turned your head to kiss Barbossa's neck. They were delicate, sweet little kisses, but drew his attention all the same.

“More?” Hector murmured, insatiable as ever in his new life.

“Mm, only if you do the work.” You caught his eyes narrow in devious delight. “I know you want to take care of this.” You rolled your hips against where his cock pressed insistently to your cunt. Where the dripping evidence of your desire was staining the front of him.

That devilish smile remained. Barbossa didn't say anything as he guided one hand between your body, unlacing and pushing down the front of his breeches. The weight of his shaft pressed to your stomach, hot and hard against your skin. The tip was flushed and red, weeping against you. When you reached to touch it, even the slightest brush made it jump in your hand.

“Now lass, no need to be hasty.” Hector's hands found your arse and lifted it so that you hovered over him. It slotted his cock against your slit, gliding between your folds when you shifted your hips. “Relax.”

The catch of the head against your clit made you hiss, overstimulated by that alone. Hector quieted you with a kiss, guiding himself inside you. The stretch was familiar, the slide made easy by the three orgasms he'd ripped from you minutes prior. You still sucked in a breath that escaped a moment later in a shuddering sigh.

“There you go,” Barbossa kissed your shoulder, then just beneath your ear. When he shifted his weight, you could feel the press of his cock inside you. Yet, Hector remained still. He held you close, one hand sliding up to the nape of your neck.

You went to try and move, to show Hector appreciation for the way he'd wrung pleasure from you as essy as breathing.

“None of that,” Barbossa murmured as he held you still. “Rest. There'll be time for that later.”

Wrapped in the warmth of his embrace, it was easy to obey.

[lieutenantselnia]

POV: He's holding your hand💕

[macabrebatz]

Gonna crosspost some of my old fanfiction tonight. I recently logged back into my old Wattpad account and I'm re-editing a lot of my old one-shots so I can post them here & on AO3.

A majority of it is about horror movie slashers but there's some other miscellaneous stuff that I might post here as well (like my old Pirates of the Caribbean one-shots).

I also found a half written Nightcrawler one shot that I guess my younger self never felt like finishing just sitting in my drafts. I think I'm going to do a bit of rewriting and finish it up.

[ivorydragoness44]

Theodore Groves x mermaid!Reader: In The Waters

Word Count: 6,129 Warnings/Notes: Takes place during the events of Pirates of the Caribbean: On Stranger Tides. Mentions of mermaids attacking a ship and men screaming, worried/frantic/scared men. injured Theodore, angst, playful interactions, kissing… I think that’s all. Summary: Lieutenant Commander Theodore Groves ventures with Captain Barbossa and crew to Whitecap Bay. There, he meets an unlikely future ally and friend, a mermaid. Can Groves push aside his contempt for the mermaids’ attack on their ship to let his curiosity for this mermaid flourish into something else?

~~~~ ~~~~ ~~~~ ~~~~

  The waters within Whitecap Bay had been quiet. After the fiery explosion caused by one of the pirates, the pod of mermaids had fled into deeper waters that very night. As the morning sun rose behind the clouded horizon, the mermaids stirred beneath the depths of the waves.   The water cut past your fins and those of your sisters. Something large approached. From the familiarity of the sound pushing through the waters surface, you knew exactly what it was.   The shipping vessel neared, but stopped short of entering the bay. There, under the cover of the water, the mermaids waited with great patience.   One ship at night, one ship by day; there was no coincidence. The pirates had made it quite clear of their intentions and by the end of the night, they had claimed one of your own.   Looking to your sisters,  they made no move to pursue the small boats of men that were soon dropped into the water. It was decided quickly and unanimously of the steps they would take with these men. They wanted to attack before the men did. But also, to avenge the mermaids that you all had lost that night, vengeance trickling over your scales.   Though you agreed and supported your fellow mermaids, you did not want to risk the life of a single one of them again. The pirates had arrived prepared. What did these new strangers bring?

  As the men rowed their boats away from the main ship, you followed. Their loud calls to one another lowered when they passed into the bay, and your curiosity grew.   Nearing the center of the bay, a flick of your tail sent you to the surface. Carefully, you peeked your head up out of the water for a moment. These men dressed identically, with short curled white hair to match. Peculiar men. By their shifting eyes and soft voices, you could tell how uneasy they were. All with good reason.   All too quickly, you ducked back down under the water’s surface. You kept a safe distance as you trailed behind them just shy of the shoreline.   The men in white hopped out of their boats to pull them up onto the sand. One man in particular, you noticed when you bobbed up with a wave, had a wooden leg. He appeared to lead, a small group following him onto the sand. The hat he adorned on his head was wide like a setting black sun, and his long coat held details of gold accents. His appearance gave a sense of importance between him and the less decorated.   Diving toward the rock formation that lined the bay, you indulged in your curiosity. There, you held onto the smooth surface to steady yourself. You looked on as the men spotted a dead mermaid beached ashore. A coat detailed man stood before her limp body and gave it a firm kick. You bit back a hiss at the sight. However, a second man rushed over, kneeling beside your sister. He took up her seaweed-like hair and ran it gently over his hand. The wind carried their voices to you. Not that they were exactly quiet creatures.

  “Mermaid,” said a third less garbed man. He walked around the kneeling man who remained in awe. Or fear. “Give up this madness now.” He said, to who you now supposed was indeed their captain.   “I cannot,” he replied as the worrier continued to the other side of the mermaid’s body, turning he attention back to the captain. “Ever walk on the back, to look back and see your footsteps in the sand? It’s like that, except the footsteps lie before me,” he said, stepping away, only to pause in his motions.   A fourth man had since stood behind him. “Footstep, actually,” he corrected, much to the captain’s disliking.   The second man stood, speaking directly to the captain. “Whitecap Bay, sir. We must hasten.”   No sooner the words had left his mouth, angry shrieking of mermaids cried out in the distance and too the screams of the crewmen.   The four men looked over in turn. The otherwise busy crewmen ashore stopped their duties upon hearing the horrific scene.

  You needed not look yourself. It was clear to your ears of the sound of your sisters ripping the ship apart with ease. Of how the men would try to flee but ultimately be pulled down to the depths.

  Curiously, their captain did not seem the least bit concerned.   “We travel by foot. Gibbs, I require a heading.”   The second man whipped around in dismay, shocked by the lack of action and compassion. “But, sir, the men,” he said, walking around the unfortunate mermaid corpse to face the captain.   “They be dead already.”   They both looked toward the ship and back again.   “They don’t sound dead,” the man’s voice deepened into an angered gruff.   “Oh, is that so?” The captain questioned. Pulling out his pistol as he stepped closer and pointed it up toward the man’s chin without breaking eye contact. “Well, I hear nothing but seagulls nesting,” he countered. “What is it that you hear, Mister Groves?”   Chest heaving with fear for his fellow men and anger, Groves peered over at the ship again with his eyes as the men continued to shriek. With restraint anger, he said. “Seagulls…nesting. Nothing more.”   “Heading, Gibbs?”   The captain and Groves turned to the man in question whereas he looked over at the wood creaking ship. The men still screamed for their lives, the vessel beginning to tip to its right down into the waves.   Everyone except the captain paid any mind to the scene. Both Groves and Gibbs took steps forward.   “My God,” Groves breathed out in disbelief.   Frustrated to his breaking point at the wasted time, the captain stomped over to Gibbs. Pointing the pistol at him, he said. “Your heading or my heading. I’ll have me one or t’other, I don’t care which.”   Gibbs took two breaths, blinked out the rain hitting his eyes. The pistol was pressed under his jaw, but he soon turned away and walked up the beach with the captain in toe.   “All hands, forward!” The fourth man called out for the other men to follow. To leave the beach and the scene entirely, he and the men already began to saunter up the sand.   Groves however, continued to look on between them and the sinking ship. Could they truly continue on with their conscience in tact?

  As the captain managed his way over the sand with the others following behind, one did not. Groves remained, watching in horror as their ship and crew were torn apart by the both hungry and vengeful mermaids. Until the ship was out of sight, he stared, but the screams could still be heard.

  Feeling sorrow for his loss as you looked upon his face from a distance, you frowned. You glanced over your shoulder to view the ship as it crumbled into the water, pulled under the choppy waves. One by one, dragged to the depths for a feasting frenzy by your fellow mermaids was very likely. You doubted any man would be kept for other means.   When you leisurely looked back over to the shore again, you were met with the in-awe eyes of this Mister Groves. His mouth even hung slightly agape at the sight of you.   Never had anyone looked at you in such a way. It struck you odd, but you did not hate it. Then again, it was usually a look of horror if any man did get a chance to look you in the eyes. As you typically attacked from behind, it was rare. Stealth could be a good strategy in hunting.   You smiled kindly, though not so boisterous as to frighten him, or otherwise make cause for a negative reaction. You found yourself even giving him a small wave of your fingers in greeting. Intentionally in the moment, you did not want to appear rude to a human being that even remotely appeared compassionate to others in need of help. Especially those in dire peril. You thought it even a sprinkle of hilarity that he was the only one to have noticed you. For you were quite close to shore and in plain view of them if they were to pay attention.   Groves slowly and cautiously made his way around the wreckage toward the water and the other set of rocks, looking down occasionally to watch his own footing. To any one of his crewmen that had not passed by his location, it would have appeared as though he was following behind himself.   While Groves was walking over, you remained beside the rock for a time. Holding onto the natural formation stabilized you from the waves that splashed up against you and the rocks. But as soon as his black buckled shoes touched the water, you sunk a little lower into the light waves. However, just enough to have your eyes still peering over the surface to observe him. Though, as soon as you did, Groves extended his hand toward you in slight alarm. He appeared to not want you to leave just yet. Perhaps you seemed not as treacherous as the other mermaids in his eyes. For what mermaid would look on at men talking if she were to have otherwise bad intentions? Then again, there were a possibility of reasons.

  “No, no, please wait!” He called out to you, jogging onto the black rock that extended through the and ad water lining the bay.   Two other men called out to him questioningly. “Sir, what do you see?”   “Stay there!” Groves called back over his shoulder, though his words made them all the more cautious. Tis was especially so since he was climbing up the few steps of the rocks, as if speaking with an unseen person.

  Groves stopped short, at least two feet from the edge, not wanting you to swim away, or attack him for that matter. “I’m sorry,” he spoke softly for only you to hear, looking at you with more curiosity than fear. “D-do you—”   “Speak?” You finished for him with a gentle smile. Bringing your head back out of the water, you gripped onto the rock with your hands.   “Yes,” he stared in awe, unable to formulate any more words at the moment from both the sight of a mermaid and your shear beauty.

  However, now that your head and torso were visible above the water and your location pinpointed by the man near you, the other few crew members called out, alerting the others in warning. “Mermaid!”   You eyed them closely, wondering if either of them would dare fire upon you, or, better yet, go into the water after you. They may not be pirates, but they were still men.

  Quickly ignoring the others and focusing your attentions back on the interesting, and dare you thought handsome, man in front of you, you spoke again. “I am sorry,” you said simply, implying about his attacked ship and crew.   “What for?” He asked, brows knitting together as his crew behind him scurried around.   “Your ship and crew,” you uttered as you bobbed in the water from the movement of you tail. With your shoulders exposed, your soaked hair clung to your scaled skin.   “Oh,” he muttered quietly to himself, looking down for a solid moment as his jaw noticeably clenched in thought before looking back up to you. “And did you have a say in that?”   He was still angered at the occurrence, as it did happen moments ago. For the men’s screams had stopped by the time he had reached you.   “I made my choice,” you said, confidence grazing over the simplicity of your words. Pushing yourself up slowly on the rock in his direction, he shuffled in the slightest and stood up straighter.   “And what choice was that?” He asked, his voice dipped in the anger that he held for his lost crew and the captain for abandoning them.   “Not to avenge my sisters,” you replied. Laying one arm against the other at the top of the rock, feeling the rain hit against your back. “Your ship was not the one who harmed, killed, or captured any of us. I chose to stay behind.”   “Why didn’t you stop them?”   “We live and hunt together, but we still make individual choices. Their choice was unanimous, mine was not,” you clarified.   “So, you looked on instead,” he accused, as if trying to prove that despite you intentions, you were still in the wrong.   “And where would you have liked for me to have gone?” You countered in protest.

  He remained silent to your question, coming to terms that in some instants, the minority cannot change the will of the majority. The same worked in the occupation he found himself involved with. He had no word against Barbossa. Gilette and himself were practically babysitting the former pirate as he received a second chance in the profession.

  “What is your name?” You asked sweetly, changing the subject. Finding yourself not wanting to despise you as well.   “M-my name?” A little frazzled by the question that you steered toward for a conversation more personal so quickly.   “Yes,” you smiled up at him, swaying your tail and fin beneath the water.   Groves stepped forward and slowly crouched down, careful not to slip on the wet rock as the rain continued. “Groves, miss.”   You quirked up a wet eyebrow and teased him with a smirk. “Miss Groves?”   “No,” he finally laughed, looking away briefly in embarrassment. “Lieutenant Commander Groves.”   It oddly made you feel better that he was becoming more at ease in your presence. More so that he was now within less than an arm’s length of you. The charms of a mermaid. “And does this Lieutenant Commander have a first name?” You questioned further, enjoying the new exchange.   “Theodore,” he likewise smiled, becoming all the more enchanted with you by the second.   “Theodore?” You asked to clarify the pronunciation, looking into his kind eyes.   He nodded in agreement, water dripping off of his hat. “Yes.”   “I like your name without all of the titles, Theodore,” you complimented, leaning a little closer to him.   “And what is your name, if I may ask?” Groves inquired politely, though immediately interrupted as soon as he finished.

  “Sir!” A few of the Englishmen called out to their Lieutenant Commander, having watched the scene unfold between mermaid and man. He looked over to his left at the men, feeling hesitation to leave. The tone of their fear and urgency was far too familiar.

  “You must rejoin your crew,” you spoke quietly. Taking a breath, you looked between him and his fellow men.   Groves looked to you curiously, not knowing quite what to say.   “Be careful,” you warned gently, a seriousness running across your face, “the journey to the Fountain of Youth can be a treacherous one.”   His eyebrows rose together in his surprise, “How did you…?”   You gave a gentle laugh, “Until next time, Theodore,” you nodded. Guiding yourself back down into the water, you were careful not to scratch or cut yourself upon the rough surface.   “Am I not to know your name in return?” He asked hastily, leaning forward on to the ledge.   You smiled and pulled yourself back up to him, your faces mere inches from one another. He did not shy away. For only him to hear, you spoke your name. It was not given lightly, as it was a personal thing to do. But it felt right.   Groves whispered your name and smiled softly. “I like that. It suits you.”

  By your closeness to the Lieutenant Commander, his crewmen hollered in anxious protest and alarm. The two of you, however, ignored the rushing of the men. No harm was being done.   Retaining your smile, you leaned closer, as if to brush your lips against his, but stopped. “Mind your footing,” you said, “and I shall see you again…Theodore.”   Groves’s lips parted, but as soon as he blinked, you dove off to the side and into the deeper water. The fin-end of your tail splashed against the surface as you did so. There he stayed for a few moments longer. Hoping that his mind had not played a foul trick on him, he stood to rejoin the others.

  It had been many hours since you had encountered Theodore. Strangely so, your thoughts kept drifting back to him. Swimming around the far side of the island, you felt a disturbance trickle through your scales. Without hesitation, you swam immediately toward the deep pools that resided near the Fountain. Though the likes of any mermaid dreaded the place, you had no intention of stopping. For men in search of the Fountain tied up the mermaids they captured and left them to die.

  Popping up to the surface of one of the many small pools of water, you shipped your head around anxiously in search of the Lieutenant Commander. It was far too quiet. Away from the crashing waves, it looked like an endless scatter of trees. Perhaps you were too late, and had missed the men’s escape from the Fountain. Or, as it would seem by the commotion of approaching men through the line of trees, you were merely early.

  Two men in particular rushed through the trees. It was who they were carrying between them that caught your attention. Everything about him was the same, with the exception of his lack of white curled hair and hat. His head hung low, and his body limp, but you knew that it was Theodore Groves. You could sense it.   “Wait!” You called out to them.   The group of men stumbled to a halt, hastily looking around for the source of the womanly voice.   “Over there!” One pointed toward you. “In the pool!”   “Mermaid. Stay clear, men!”   “Forward! Make haste!”   “He is hurt!” You spoke up in return, your sympathy evident in your voice. They took notice, and you used that. “I can save him. Bring him to me.”   Their voices were too muffled together as they pondered quickly amongst themselves.   You thought it remarkable that they had landed on a collective decision. Together, they brought Groves toward the pool, lying him down gently.   “He was shot in the stomach,” one said, eyeing you closely. “What will you do?”   “I will take him into the water. You will find him safe on the shore of Whitecap Bay.”   He began to ask further questions but stopped upon hearing a small groan come from Groves.   Groves’s hand searched and pressed against his own wound with a wince.   Reaching out a hand, you gently turned his head to you. You smiled as his eyelids forced themselves open. The wonder he had replaced the pain as he looked into your eyes.   “I can save you. You need only ask,” you whispered.   His furthest hand stretched over in your direction. As if to confirm that you were real, his fingertips brushed the length of your hair.   “Theodore,” you pushed through his haze of pain and disbelief.   Almost inaudibly, he breathed out his answer. “Please.”   With a flick of your tail, you rose above the water. Tucking an arm under his, you secured your hold on his torso. The other was more gentle, yet just as firm behind his neck. As your lips neared his, his eyes shut before your lips claimed his softly. The rest you left to gravity. Once Theodore slipped down into the pool, you swam the pair of you down. Soon, he would be completely healed and fully conscious.

  Theodore’s eyes widened as shadowy figures closed in. Just as his nerves were rising, the mermaids simply swam past.   Bringing him to the surface for air, you kept your hold on him.   His brows furrowed as he surveyed his surroundings. “Whitecap Bay.”   You nodded in confirmation. “I will take you to shore so you may rest.”   “Thank you.”   When he was ready, you swam the rest of the way.

  As the water began to shallow and his feet were able to touch the sand beneath, you released him. He slowly made his way toward the shoreline as you leisurely swam around him.   “You could out-swim the fastest ship in the fleet,” he complimented.   “Yes,” you smiled, your tail brushing against the ends of his coat.   “I don’t know how you did it…or how I could ever thank you for saving my life.”   “Refrain from standing in harm’s way.”   “Literally,” he frowned at the thought.

  As the pair of you drew closer to the sandy shore, you could see that his mind wondered with thoughts.   “Is this where you take your leave?” He asked, the water pooling around his waist.   “You wish for my company, Theodore?” You swam to a stop in front of him.   “I do.”   Pleasantly surprised, you hummed happily. “Then I will wait with you until your companions arrive.”   “And then?”   “You all will leave. Will you not?”   Theodore’s inner conflict showed on the creases of his face. “I must. I have a duty to my country.”   Nodding in understanding, you swam in larger circles around him until the small white waves pushed against his calves.   Trudging out of the water, he sighed. The beach was quiet. The smoke from the rubble and lighthouse had stopped since his first time arriving to Whitecap Bay. The longboats that he and his crew used to reach shore remained. It was only a matter of waiting for them to return as well.

  Gathering himself, Groves sat down on the flat dark rocks, only steps away from where the longboats were anchored. He ran a hand over his short brown hair. A thought had occurred to him: if he looked as exhausted as he felt. Thankfully, the healing of his body had relieved most of it.   “Theodore,” you said. Your voice enrapturing his full attention. “When you and your men leave in your boats,” you began, swimming up beside his knees, “it would be safer for you if I followed alongside for a while. I would not like for my sisters to attack you.”   “I would be most grateful,” he smiled. With a shake of his head, he laughed to himself.   “I do not understand,” you said, studying him curiously with a single hand steadying yourself on the rock.   “I apologize, it’s just… This has been a strange and somehow remarkable journey for me. Before we sailed here, it was but a rumor aboard the ship. The men—even I—feared the very name of this place. There have been stories told. Especially of the mermaids guarding the water to the Fountain.”   “And are we mermaids as terrifying as the stories that have been told?”   “Yes,” he said quietly, placing a hand on top of yours. “But you ave shown me much more otherwise.”   You smiled at the gesture. A brow teased upward as you spoke next. “You would not like me when I’m angry.”   “I’m sure that is something we can both agree upon.”

  It was silent of words afterwards, comfortably so. The rays of the sun began to dry out his naval uniform. And by the looks of the bright day, if would not take long for his clothes to be completely free of moisture.

  Theodore had long since removed his long coat. It laid out on the stretch of rock beside him to dry.   You did not want to dry out as well. Slipping down into the warm Caribbean water, you sighed contently to yourself. The feeling of the water coating over your scales was much needed. As you again rested your arms on the rock, you met eyes with Theodore.   “Forgive me, I…I thought for a moment that you were leaving.”   “Not as of yet, Theodore,” you smiled. Flicking up your tail, you let it hit the surface of the water none too gracefully. The water droplets that flew up from the splash reached him and the surprise on his face sent you into a stream of happy laughter.   A large grin spread across his face. “Wetting me again, are we?”   “You make it all too easy,” you beamed, lightly squeezing his knee.

  It was a wonder. You found yourself enjoying these moments the more you spent them with Theodore. Of course you knew that they could not last forever, but that was not going to stop you.   “Do you think that we will ever see each other again? It may be a silly thing to ask, considering that I live in London now. The weather is quite different compared to here. Much colder some days.”   “Yes, the water is colder beyond the Caribbean. Here, it is warm and safe. Any animal traveling to a drastically different environment…it could be lethal.“ To humor yourself on a lighter note, you began, “However, it would be quite the journey to swim that distance. I could potentially board a ship.”   “Would you truly stow away aboard a ship?”   “If I wanted to.”   “Will you?” He asked, almost hopeful.   Your face slowly fell at the reality. “A mermaid should not. There are creatures—beings, that call the oceans and waters their home. There is a reason why we are separated; land and sea.”   Gently, to your amazement, he took your hand in his. “I may not fully understand, and I doubt any man could, but I accept your decision, for it is yours and yours to make alone. However,” he gave a small smile, “if you ever find yourself in London, please do find me.”   Another smile graced your lips. “You would be the reason why I would be there.”   As he too smiled, smitten at your words, you moved. Pushing yourself up onto the rock, you twisted and sat beside him.   Theodore’s eyes strayed respectively, raising his head to meet your eyes again, but flushed at your words.   “My body is covered in scales, Theodore. There’s no need for you to become flustered.”   “My apologies,” he said in his unwavering sincerity.   “Perhaps you should visit, to become more accustomed to the island,” you suggested, patting his arm.   “I would love to, but my job would hardly allow it, and it would make for an expensive venture.”   “Money, gold, power,” you shook your head. Inhaling the ocean breeze, you calmed yourself. “The ways of men elude me.”   Clutching your hands into his own, he leaned close. “Please believe me that I would if I had the means.”   Gazing into his eyes, you felt his truth. There was both a plea and a pain in his eyes, a kind that you had never witnessed before. “You do not need those means here. They have no use, no value. You could stay.”   Bringing your hands up to his lips, he kissed them sweetly. “I’m afraid that this could all be but a dream,” he kissed your hands again, his lips lingering on your skin.   “You will think so,” you said so quietly, assuming his decision.   “And so I will hold onto the memory of this dream for as long as I can.”   Slipping your hands out of his grasp, you cupped his face tenderly. You smiled as he waited for your words. There may have been a thought or two, but you remained silent. With a pleasant hum, you leaned into him and pressed your lips to his. You felt the air leave his body from your action.   As you lingered and continued, you felt yourself enjoying such an intimate exchange. Though Theodore kissed you in return, his hands remained stationary. He dared not touch you, and you wondered for what specific reason.   “Theodore,” you whispered in question.   In response, he sighed out your name, making your tail flick over toward his legs.   Pulling away for a moment, he followed. “I won’t bite you,” you assured.   His brows furrowed as he opened his eyes to peer at you.   “I won’t bite, if you rest your hands on me,” you clarified.   Briefly, he glanced away in his sheepishness. “I did not want to be so bold.”   “You have good qualities, Theodore Groves.”   “Thank you.”

  Motion stirred the water. The feeling swirled up through your tail. However, you elected to ignore it for the time being, deciding to kiss him instead.   He did not appear to mind. Not that he gave any indication that he would. Especially so when he finally placed his hands onto your arms, though light and hesitant.   And as his hands began to slowly caress your arms, and over to your back, you wanted to ignore the sounds beyond the Bay. However, a breath that did not match either of yours caught your attention. Pulling away from Theodore again to seek out the disturbance, you nearly did not. With his forehead to yours, he remained, basking in the moment. But your tail twitched. Another mermaid. Shifting your head slightly, as to not alert Theodore, you looked over the water. Your eyes widened to the sight and you felt you heart leap.

  “You’re alive.”   Realizing that you were not talking to him, Theodore too looked over.   In the water a few yards out were two figures. Though they were only visible from their shoulders and upward, you knew one to be a mermaid and the other not.   Diving off of the rock, you were met by your fellow mermaid. Swimming around each other, you saw a recent wound healing on one of her fins. As the pair of you rose back out of the water to wade at the surface, you shared kind smiles.   “The pirates,” you inquired. “How are you alive?”   “Philip saved me,” she said, looking over her shoulder to the man trudging his way toward them in the water.   “But you saved him first,” you said with playful skepticism.   “And you him,” she eyed Theodore behind you, sitting on the rock with a look of wonder and bewilderment.

  “Hello,” Philip called over as he neared the shore. “We haven’t officially met. I’m Philip.”   Theodore stood, his boots splashing the water. “Lieutenant Commander Theodore Groves,” he nodded in kind.   “Pleased to meet you.”  The two shook hands and tried their best not to gaze adoringly at the other two in the water. “Are you waiting for the ship as well?”   “Yes, but I would be surprised to see Barbossa sail Black Beard’s ship near this Bay.”   “If we don’t have hope, what do we have?” He countered softly.

  The two men were utterly silent for a couple of moments. Their shared uncertainty drew to the surface. Eyes averting the other, listening to the call of the birds and the calm crashing of the waves.   “Syrena?” Philip questioned. The water where the mermaids had been was as smooth as glass. Whipping their heads around, both men did not see a single trace.   “We should get to shore,” Philip advised warily.   “Agreed.”

  Returning to the surface, you and Syrena exchanged curious looks. As the two men sloshed their way onto the dry sand, you both simply watched.   With a subtle nod to the right, Syrena indicated toward the longboats resting in the sand. Slipping just under the water, you both swam over to the small wooden vessels.   It was a short distance with a handful of tail flicks to guide you. In the shallow water, the gentle waves washed over your backs. If you were to reach out, you could just touch one of the boats. It was a wonder that such a thing could withstand the ocean beyond the Bay. Though perhaps its durability had its limits there as well. After all, it was hardly a challenge for your sisters to split one apart.

  Muffled thuds rippled through the ground as Theodore and Philip jogged over toward the boats.   “For a moment, we thought you left us,” Theodore stated, kneeling down to your level.   “We did, but not for long,” you said.   “Your ship nears,” Syrena indicated.   “The Queen Anne’s Revenge? Where are they headed?” Asked of Philip. He too kneeled onto the wet sand.   “Out to sea. Philip, you must board this boat. We’ll bring it alongside the ship so you can rejoin the others.”   “We can’t possibly catch up, even with the pair of us rowing hastily,” Theodore reasoned.   You wanted to wipe away the creases that appeared on his brows. Surely he knew enough about sailing and the ways of navigating the waters, but the abilities of mermaids should continue to surprise him.   “Syrena and I are going to swim beneath the boat to pull it toward the ship. Would that be fast enough for you?” You asked, enjoying his astonished disbelief.   “Truly?”   “Yes, but you must hurry before the winds favor their sails.”   His eyes widened. “Yes. Come along,” he instructed of Philip.   The pain pushed one of the boats into the water. When it no longer scraped along the sand, they hopped aboard. As they did so, Syrena and yourself placed your hands on the bottom of the vessel to steady it. You did not want to make a habit of saving them frequently.   “Thank you.” Philip smiled over at the pair of you. “I suppose this is farewell then, for now,” he said solemnly to Syrena.   To give them privacy, you swam around to the other side of the boat. A smile found its way onto your face yet again. As you had looked up, you found Theodore leaning over the side of the boat, watching your every move.   “Theodore,” you whispered, liking the way his eyes lit up by your mention of his name. Placing your arms on the rim of the boat, you held yourself up.   “We don’t want to alert the others on the ship,” he spoke softly. His eyes closed in the slightest as you nudged your face up under his jaw. “There’s no telling what Barbossa would order the crew if he saw you.”   “If,” you whispered against his earlobe.   The action caused him to shiver. “Did you not urge us to hasten?”   “I could stop an entire ship if I wanted to.” You kissed his cheek until he turned his head, letting your lips connect.   “A most wonderful dream,” Theodore sighed, gently cradling your face in his hands.   The expression on his face in his sincerity could have made a tear fall from your eye. “Hold on tightly, Theodore Groves,” you advised.

  Dropping down into the water, you were met with the determined eyes of Syrena. She angled herself horizontally with the length of the boat. You mirrored he actions and took a firm grip on the planks of wood. Together, you batted your tails against the water. It was none too comfortable when accidentally scratching your scales against the wood, but you learned to ignore it for the time being.   Reclining your head back, you saw the underside of the Revenge coming into view. Though you would much rather keep away, you swam the boat closer.   As you approached the larger vessel, you noticed a strange sight. There were hardly any barnacles attached to the ship. Peculiar for an older ship.   Two thuds knocked against the boat. Peering over at the other, you and Syrena slowed to a stop. It could only be assumed that the two men aboard deemed it suitably close enough to board the other vessel. Under the guise of the boat, you remained. Smiles were not withheld as clear ‘thank you’s were heard just above the surface of the water.   The boat rocked and men shouted, likely scattering about the deck. When the boat ceased its movements, you knew they climbed aboard. You could only guess that they would pull up the boat next, but no such action came.   More shouts muffled their way passed the water’s surface from above. Men could be so noisy. Though, not comparatively so when attacked upon.

  All too soon, the ship crept forward with increasing speed. A part of you, not so deep down, wanted to rip the ship into splinters. But you calmed yourself. Theodore chose to leave, and so you honored his decision. What you did not expect was the growing ache in your chest. A scream bubbled up in your throat, but you trapped it there, locking in your sorrow.   As the ship faded out of sight, you looked upon your fellow mermaid beside you. When you locked gazes, you noticed that she too was saddened by the men’s departure. Even so, daily life would continue and the waters of Whitecap Bay would once again become quiet and serene. No pirate would again seek the youth of the fountain. But, you could always flirt with the idea of Theodore Groves someday returning to you.

~~~~ ~~~~ ~~~~ ~~~~

Finally...after I don't know how many years...this fanfiction is complete!

Thank you for reading :)

If you would like to read more fanfiction/imagines from me, be sure to check out my Masterlist of Masterlists post pinned on my blog.

[chippedchina-teacup]

So I recently passed 100 followers on here. It’s kind of weird, since this is the first blog to have done that, but I’m also kind of giddy??? I don’t know for certain that everyone who is following me is following me because of my writing, but I’d like to think that it’s at least a fair few of you. So thank you, if that is why you follow me, and if it’s not, please please please check out Valence and the couple of one shots I have up (and if you like them PLEASE consider reblogging)

That said, I wish I could open request for one shots right now, but I barely have enough time to work on my current projects, so I’m thinking of doing an AMA.

Should I?

[berubara-4-ham]

 "The servants dressed the little mermaid into the finest English gown. Adorned with laces and gold trim. The main fabric is the color of peach and orange. She wore pink diamond jewels that Miriam, James’ mother, let her borrow to wear it. And matching shoes with a little ribbon on the pair. Next, her hairdresser styled (y/n)’s hair into an updo with dropping curls and decorated it with string of pearls that reminded the mermaid if she was still a mermaid." 

~

I inserted myself into mermaid reader in my Norrington x mermaid reader fic, "The Mermaid and the Commodore". Like Elizabeth's dress, I also reference to Hamilton's character, Angelica.

If you haven't read my fic, read it on ao3 link

[asherxz]

HELLO PEOPLE! I have opened my requests, FOR THR FIRST TIME >:D!! Feel free to request, but remember to check out the rules! I can't wait to start writing

[enby-jellyfish]

Sailor Song

Captain Hector Barbossa X GN!Merfolk!Performer!Reader (POC friendly)

Pronouns: You/Your

Summary: Barbossa finds out your secret and makes you an offer.

Warnings: Slight manipulation and blackmail, mentions of murder.

Word Count: 837

A/N: Kinda 'What Is this Feeling?' from Wicked vibes.

You sit in front of your vanity. Having just made the finishing touches to your costume, you listen to the ongoing play right outside your dressing room. You’re not nervous. You’ve performed more times than you can count, and even if you hadn’t, your talent speaks for itself. You are a great dancer and actor, but are especially known for your angelic voice.

You check the softly ticking clock on the wall. It’s almost time. You check yourself in the mirror one last time, making sure you look perfect, and leave the room for the stage. It’s a full house tonight, and one of the seats is filled by King George II himself. You’d be one of the last people to admit you like the man, but his presence at your show brings good publicity.

You enter the stage at your cue and perform your heart out. You hit every mark, every punchline, and obviously every note. Another perfect show. You grin widely as you take your bow, looking over the standing ovation the audience is giving you. Everyone is clapping, cheering, and whistling, all except one.

In an upper balcony seat, close to the king’s, there is a man dressed in blue and gold with the usual giant powdered wig on his head. He stays seated and unmoving, an odd look in his eye you are able to notice all the way from the stage. The man stays on your mind as you exit the stage and get changed for the afterparty.

When you enter the grand room, decorated with gold embellishments and extravagant murals, people immediately start applauding and congratulating you. A drink gets pressed into your hand before you notice the king waving you over. “Your performance was magnificent, as usual. You must perform for me again soon.” The king proclaims with a flourish of his heavily jewelled hand. “You flatter me, your majesty.” You bow with a smile.

“Ah, allow me to introduce you to my newest privateer,” You immediately recognise the man he waves over. “, captain Barbossa. He’ll serve as a great asset to gain the upper hand over the Spanish Armada.”

Now that he’s standing you notice the peg leg. You turn to him, extending your hand. “Yes, I noticed you in the audience. Not a fan of my singing, are you?” Barbossa gives you a forced grimace before shaking your extended hand. “Simply astounded by your talent, my dear.” You give him a forced smile back. Prick.

The king is oblivious to your distain for each other and spends the rest of the night showing the two of you off, parading you around the room like a child with a shiny brand new toy. It is late, almost morning, when you manage to bid the king goodbye and depart the party.

You are waiting for a carriage to take you home when you suddenly get grabbed by the shoulders and roughly dragged into a nearby alley before you have time to react. Your head bangs against the stone wall as your back is pressed into it. “I know what you are.” Your captor says in a rough whisper, pressing you further into the wall for emphasis.

“And what would that be, pirate.” You spit. “Privateer.” Barbossa corrects with that same annoying tone he used when introducing himself. “Same thing, you can’t change your nature.” You taunt him. “And ye’d know everything about that, wouldn’t you.” He tightens his grip on your shoulders slightly, digging his sharp nails into your skin.

“You are a merfolk.” He states, pupils blown from the adrenaline of finding you out. “So, what if I am?” There is no point in lying, but it’s quite entertaining to provoke him though.

“What do you think his royal majesty will do to you when he finds out his precious songbird is actually a man-eating siren?” Barbossa taunts. “Not just ‘man’.” You correct. Barbossa gives you a disgusted look before composing himself. "Any proper man would slay you where you stand and present your corpse for reward, "

He leans back slightly, putting a hand over his heart in an attempt to appear humble. “, but luckily for you I, in all my humility, will offer you a choice.” He finishes with a smug grin. “Not much of a choice when one of the options is death.” You argue.

He chuckles at your reply. “The king has offered me to guide an expedition to the fountain of youth, I’m sure you’re familiar.” You tense up. “The fountain doesn’t do what you think. Trust me, it’s not worth it.” Your people are taught about the dangers of the ritual from childhood. So many of you have been murdered for your tears.

“Ah, but it’s not the fountain I be after. I’m after something much sweeter than eternal life.” You relax slightly. “Revenge.” You fill in. He releases his grip on you, voice turning soft as he coerces you. “How long has it been since you’ve been out there?” His hand comes up to caress your face and you don’t find the need to push him away as he continues. “Felt the salt on your skin.” Too long. You love your work, but you’ve felt like you’ve hit a ceiling as of late. You miss the ocean.

Your choice doesn’t seem so difficult now.

Pirates of the Caribbean Masterlist

Masterlist

Thank you for reading <3

[kissvr]

introduction

hihi!! im Akira, buuut you can call me Kira or Kiki or however you want. idk how to start this, so ill just say a bunch of stuff about myself lol

im 17, turning 18 in a few months

i use she/her pronouns

my fav color is purple (can u tell)

i plan on doing character x reader one shots/fics

i would also like to post a little about my ocs. i have a bunch of them and i love them sooo much. they're literally my children

ive been writing canon x self insert since i was 13, and before that i used gacha verse/life/club to self insert in different animes/movies/series, but ive never posted any of it online besides two chapters of a kny x oc (who was a self insert) wattpad fic i never finished

im spanish, but i think im pretty fluent at english. either way, don't expect me to be good at writing, because im not. idek how to write in spanish

im still learning sooooo yeah don't expect good stuff

aki girl. seriously, i love that man beyond comprehension

idk what else to say, so im just gonna put my interests + favourite characters (im better at writing for them than others cuz... they're my fav)

animes/mangas: aot, kny, jjk, dandadan, mha, death note, blue lock, haikyuu, witch hat atelier, bsd, csm, black butler.

games: sally face, zzz, aot 2, despersonalization (does anyone know this game), pjsekai, roblox (yay), minecraft, mysmes, obey me, uhhh idk

shows/movies: the big bang theory, friends, spn, harry potter, percy jackson (the books/films, i don't like the series), potc, lotr, any Tim burton movie, squid game, sweet home, aib, as the gods will, diary of a wimpy kid, the 8 show, a killer paradox, all of us are dead...

music: PTV!!!, mcr, falling in reverse, mitski, panic! at the disco, sleeping with sirens, korn, uhm... idk, i like vocaloid too. like any vocaloid song, tho my fav is cantarella

fav characters overall: levi ackerman, misa amane, chuuya nakahara, choso, aki hayakawa, mikasa ackerman.

that's it, basically.

navigation

[nothoughtsjustmhaandotherthings]

Twenty Questions: Writer Edition

tagged by @firealder2005 <333

Q. How many works do you have on AO3?

Thirteen!

Q. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

ah fuck gotta open stats

(You're In The) Wind (198)

Katherine Ride: Rising (70)

Katherine Ride: Battlefield (59)

Katherine Ride: Survival (31)

Katherine Ride: Vengeance (22)

Q. What fandoms do you write for?

as of right now, mainly Pirates of the Caribbean but I used to be big into My Hero Academia and I write for a few other fandoms (but not consistently whatsoever--my next biggest WIP after potc is Avatar: The Last Airbender-related).

Q. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

yes!! I try to respond to every comment I see!!

Q. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

as of being published it's probs a tie between Survival and yitw (sorry yitw readers) but there are some upcoming oneshots that will rival even that. stay tuned! (in fear)

Q. Do you get hate on fics?

not...really? i've gotten what i've dubbed "unnecessary comments" and that's mostly on my MHA works but as for yitw the most hate i've gotten is hate that i've facilitated (asking readers to start fake yitw discourse bc i thought it'd be funny AND IT WAS we shall do it again in the future)

Q. Do you write smut?

i'm TRYING

Q. Do you write crossovers?

I have great ideas for crossovers that I start but that never come to fruition...

Q. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

not to my knowledge but i'm sure my fics have been scraped by AI at this point :/

Q. Have you ever had a fic translated?

I have not! yet...

Q. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

yes but no? technically I consider my ATLA WIP co-written by me and a friend but not in the traditional sense

Q. What's your all-time favourite ship?

literally anything where it's my OC x a character sorry not sorry 👍(I WAS an EraserMic truther back when I wrote for MHA and willabeth is very very dear to me now but like if it compels me I'll ship it)

Q. What's the WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

tbh i don't think I'm ever gonna finish my mom's favorite fic and i feel really bad about that 😭😭😭 maybe if smth kickstarts the MHA hyperfixation again but I fear it is lying abandoned at the bottom of my to-write list

Q. What are your writing strengths?

Pacing, dialogue, emotional moments (especially angry/sorrowful ones, I feel). Pacing is the one that surprises me the most because I do NOT make physical outlines I just line up major events in my head and figure out the in-betweens as I go, but so many of my readers (especially my yitw readers) are like "omg im so jealous of your pacing" and my only advice for that is go ham on the first draft and figure out the rest later asdjhsfdjh

Q. What are your writing weaknesses?

honestlyyyy i know i usually say fight scenes (which is true) but I can at least GET through fight scenes so im gonna have to say smut?? for my yitw readers I'll level with you I have trying for nearly half a year now to write a oneshot that's a continuation of that last scene in Nobody's Daughter and it is just. not happening but someday I hope I can get it to you

Q. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in a fic?

neat!! i did it in The Katherine Ride Saga (MHA)

Q. First fandom you wrote fic for?

like published fic, MHA. but there was a My Little Pony self-insert way back in elementary school...and that writing shall never see the light of day if I can help it

Q. Favorite fic you've ever written?

don't ask me this question.

jk honestly yitw is very dear and special to me bc of my readers and the friends i've made in the fandom but also bc it's a great reflection of how my writing has improved?? tkrs is dear to me bc it was my first but there is also so much of 13-year-old Kat in there who bless her soul wanted to do Literally Everything and also writes like a middle-schooler which kind of gets overwhelming. so in that sense yitw is also very favorable and re-readable for me as a writer bc it doesnt make me cringe lmaoooooo

___

@swannposting, @dance-in-the-morning-glow, @burymeinmelodies, @beemovieerotica

[estelofrivendell]

Greetings,

You are taking requests for LOTR correct? Can I ask for a specific request with Aragorn, Legolas and Boromir?

Reader insert (or OC insert or whatever) has a very unique and pirate like hairstyle. Their hair is messy, kinda dirty, and completely adorned with beads, golden or silver clips; basically like from Pirates of the Caribbean. //clearly it’s obvious I’ve just recently watched it-//

They don’t necessarily have to BE a pirate (but they could if you’re interested in that path ;})but I think that since hair is seen as something very important- especially with elves and dwarfs- people would have a lot of emotions towards it such as curiosity or fascination. Thank you!

From yours truly, me 💚~

A/N: I tried watching POTC and just... didn't like it. I didn't like Elizabeth and found Will extremely annoying, I hope I try to do your request justice, since I made this general.

ARAGORN, LEGOLAS AND BOROMIR WITH AN S/O WITH MESSY HAIR

ARAGORN

You know how general consensus in LOTR fandom is Ranger Aragorn's hair being infinitely better than his hair the moment he became king? I think he would have the same idea for you if you decided to do your hair and tamed it even if it was just for one time. Untamed messy hair is nothing to him, though the beads and clips you would put on caught his attention and he would ask you where you got them from.

So if your hair ever stayed flat for just one second and he saw it, his reaction would be the gif I put. He never imagined you with tidy hair that the sight looks so strange and he honestly prefers you with the messy hair everyone knew you had.

LEGOLAS

You and Legolas would be seen as a bizarre pairing to others around you. Can you imagine an elf with perfect hair being with someone who has the opposite of perfect hair? He seems the kind to me to make fun of others with extremely messy hair at first until he matured in that sense, but he will never not find messy hair bizarre. He couldn't take his eyes off the beads and would never admit that he wants his own to put on his own hair. As an elf, he's bound to think those beads mean something significant, and is genuinely confused when you tell him they don't mean anything and you put them for your own enjoyment. Also Legolas is bound to feel curious and touch your hair whenever he felt like it.

BOROMIR

He's in the middle, between Aragorn and Legolas. He's not as used to people with hair that can't be tamed as say Aragorn, but he knows they exist unlike Legolas and doesn't have dramatic first impressions about it. He's a soldier and spent so much of his life defending Gondor and they don't come home with hair that looks like it just had conditioner on, lol. He'll assume you do a lot adventuring and your own things that don't leave enough time to comb your hair and doesn't ask a lot of questions, if any, but was interested when he learned how your hair just can't stay flat no matter how long you brush it. I can see your hair becoming his favorite part about you over time, however.

[thestateofardadreaming]

Sometimes I think about that POTC fanfic I wrote 20 years ago with a Mary Sue (almost self insert) romance with Jack Sparrow. Self indulgent. Fun. Without any filter. (No beta either so it's painful to reread)

And you know what? I don't regret a thing. It made me meet some good friends who are still my friends. I still receive occasional likes and very rare reviews. I haven't reread it recently but last time I did I found it amusing

And I enjoyed writing, posting it and receiving readers' reviews.

So yes, write that self indulgent piece. In 20 years, you won't regret it.

(It's in French but if you're curious : Le secret de Jack Sparrow)