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#potc fanfic
socksracoon10 · 2 months
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The Banter of Thieves
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Pairing: Jack Sparrow x F!Reader
Jack Sparrow was by no means your friend. He wasn't even an acquaintance. His mere presence irked you, caused you to vomit overboard and wipe the drool that dabbled your chin as you spat out the lovely painting your stomach decided to spew out. The entire Caribbean sea knew better than to mess with you; you were the jewel of the ocean, the only woman to have stood for so long on your feet without ever backing down. Once your crew was outnumbered by the British officers, but you bravely traversed the seas and implied that you had more guts than your opponents. Another instance was when you managed to have stolen an artifact aboard a merchant ship that costed you a good fortune. You were the talk of Tortuga for weeks on end - added to that were rounds of free rum with jealous ladies and ecstatic men surrounding your presence.
So it was of to no surprise that upon hearing your name being tossed around like a ball, Jack Sparrow would've felt a little bit of resentment. Well, not a little - it was a LOT. He was devastated, he was hurt. How could the people trample around singing your name when HE was the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow! THE Captain Jack Sparrow of THE Black Pearl! He couldn't handle it. He just couldn't sit there and watch you swinging your arms around with the other pirates, gleefully cheering on your success. Drink after drink, he noticed the amount of rum you were being passed. Some men forced a glass to you, and though you politely declined, he noticed the way you'd give in after the third persistent person chimed in with a 'please' and there the rum would go down. It would cascade down your neck, around your breasts and find itself sloshed on the ground; Jack hated it. He hated to see the sight of pure, good rum being wasted away like that. 
When you were passed out, slouched against a sturdy chair with the glass still in your hand, Jack had tip-toed to where you sat and stood over your sleeping form. You weren't a hideous creature; he'd seen much worse on his escapades. In his mind, he couldn't fathom to understand how a girl as beautiful and intelligent such as yourself could have the nerve to be a pirate and go against him? Him? Ugh, it made his blood curl at the thought. In any other circumstances, he would've tried to woo you or played some sort of game, but clearly those options were out the window. His eyes cast over to you once again, and he caught onto the tiny sliver of shimmering gold tucked away in your shirt against your bosom. Pursing his lips together, he grabbed a small dagger and carefully used the blade to hook onto the gold's chain; despite being a pirate, he still had SOME manners. Not all of them for a gentlemen, but at least enough so that he wouldn't have to be slapped by the rest of the women on Tortuga. Two was enough for him at the moment. Lifting the chain up into the air, his eyes flickered onto you for a brief moment; you stirred in your sleep, but not too much to indicate that you might be awake. He sighed in relief, holding the chain to the light as his eyes followed the path down to an intricately designed key. He narrowed his eyes at the design pattern, noticing a fresh emblem with the letters "C.D." inscribed. His eyes widened, bringing it closer to him. No, he couldn't believe it. How did she manage to find the key for The Cure of the Dead? Impossible! He pocketed the key, grabbing the glass of rum from her as she whined in her sleep. Chugging it down, he let out a hiss as the liquid flowed down his throat and marched out of the tavern with a new mission set on his mind.
"I'm going to cut off that dirty bastard's prying fingers," You growled, seated firmly in the cabin of your ship; when you had woken up after, you already knew what must've happened when the gold chain was missing and you cursed every God that existed in your mind to help you find Sparrow before he'd get his filthy, grubby hands on what you had desired. The Cure was no simple thing - no, it was not a simple little vial or a chest of wealth - it was much more. There was a certain ritual that was foretold in the legend; the one soul, after giving up four equal drops of blood, would be able to pursue the path of immortality and greatness. Your father had spent ages pillaging and tormenting anyone who proved to be an obstacle just to find the key. And now, under your possession - or well, was under your possession - you were extremely keen on protecting your father's legacy through the key, anxious to seek the glory in honor of your fearless father. At the present moment, that dream was starting to sink faster than a ship caught in a whirlpool thanks to the lovely Captain Jack Sparrow himself.
A few days had passed among the seas and your crew had slowly abandoned your ship, one by one. They knew it was going to be a very tiresome journey, but you should've known better that the slightest inconvenience would have them scuttling away back to their mummies. You cursed at them as they rowed away, swearing to enact your revenge one day if they ever dared to return to your captaincy. Your eyes shifted from them to the large island approaching your ship. You noticed another ship seated on the shore, some crewmen walking about the deck or on the sandy land. Assuming this was Jack's crew, you managed to park your vessel besides them and leaned over the deck to bellow,
"Oi! Is that Gibbs I see there?" 
The old man swiftly turned at the mention of his name, narrowing his eyes at you with a scowl.
"Aye it be, Captain (L/N)," He rolled his eyes, nudging Raggetti whose bulging eyes seemed to seep right through you. Grimacing at the sight of the skeleton-like man, you climbed down onto the beach shore and dug your hands in your pockets.
"Where is that scoundrel?" You snapped, marching forward as a hand rested on the hilt of your sword. Gibbs scoffed, 
"Bit of a strong word to use there, love," He paused for a moment, rubbing his nose before looking at you, "But if you must know, he went through the trees himself."
"Nobody else with him?" 
"Nobody else."
"Well, then, after I acquire what is rightfully man, you all will very much be welcome aboard my ship." You grinned, scanning Jack's crew.
"But we've already got ourself a captain," Raggetti scorned to which you quickly added,
"Not after I'm through with Jack, you won't."
You left the gaping faces behind as you marched into the leafy forest ahead of you. Stepping over a few roots, you noticed a distinct imprint on the mud just a few inches from where you stood; the fool must've slipped and fell on his own face. With a guttural groan, you pushed through and followed the signs among your surroundings, the very same that your father used to tell you. Remembering his tales comforted you immensely, and you wished he was here to see his little girl all grown up and ready to see the treasure he had wished for so long. He would be proud of her, he would've loved her. He would've... surely not expected to see Jack Sparrow stuck between the branches of a tree.
"Jack?" You cocked your head to the side, stepping around the tree to see his face. His features were all scrunched up as he tugged his body to the best of his ability against the branches.
"Those stupid roots!" He exclaimed in a muffled tone. He cried out in exasperation, continuing to tug himself as much as he could before shrieking, "Don't just stand there! Help me!"
You stepped forward, just about ready to push his face out but you caught yourself, hands still in the air as you raised an eyebrow, "Give me the key first, and then I shall help you."
Upon hearing your words, Jack huffed out in annoyance, "Darlin', I think there's something more important here than your stupid key. Help me, first."
"No," You hissed, "You give me the key, and then I'll help you." You extended your arm out, beckoning for him to hand over your prized possession. Jack glared at you, muttering some cursed under his breath; you could've sworn he had said "that insufferable wench" and you scowled at him.
"Listen, love... darling... sweetheart," He groaned between tugs, "If you help me, I swear I'll hand over the key to you."
"You swear? You swear on your ship?" You prodded, and unbeknownst to you, he crossed his fingers behind his back,
"Of course! Of course, my love! N-Now just g-get me out of this stupid mess!" He seethed. You rolled up your sleeves, and placed your palms against his face, beginning to apply pressure.
"Ow... ow, ow, ow, ow, that's my precious face! You're gonna mush my skull in!" Jack screamed, and your blood boiled at his ungratefulness, causing you to begin pushing harder. You tuned out his cries of pain, finally released him from the stockade-like tree, and watched him howl and roll around the dirt. You kicked the side of his body, extending your hand out again for the key. He groaned as he sat up, taking your hand to lift him off the ground.
"You idiot!" You hissed, swatting his hand away, "I want the key!"
Jack blinked a few times, biting the inside of his cheek, "And here I really thought you'd care for me."
Standing back up on his feet, he noticed the way your gaze never faltered on him. He gave a disgusted expression towards you, sauntering off towards the cave opening with a determined mission on his mind. He paused, looking back at you with your open hand for a brief moment, before instantly picking up his pace. Screaming in anger, you charged after him and hopped onto his back, tugging his locks of hair as he shrieked in pain.
"Ow! Ow! Off, off! Look, women aren't meant to pull on my hair unless we're laying in bed together!" Jack hollered.
"I'm a pirate, you oaf, I can do as I please!" You bellowed, tugging harder and steering him away from the cave opening's keyhole. He stumbled backward and stood still for a moment trying to process something in his head,
"You mean to tell me you're not a woman?" He asked in a genuine tone of voice, before gasping loudly, "You deceitful bastard! You mean to tell me you're a filthy bugger impersonating a female?"
"Are you stupid?" You snarled, completely flabbergasted by his words. Not only was he the most aggravating pirate you'd ever met, but currently while on his back, he was definitely the stupidest one you'd ever come across. Jack trudged forward, trying his best to ignore the sharp pain of his hair practically ripping off his scalp as he shoved the key into its designated home. You cried out in frustration, watching the cave slowly open to reveal the circular stage under the beam of light. Upon seeing the glory in front of you, your head poked around his hair and leaned forward, completely in awe of its beauty. 
"You know, you can get off me back now," Jack smirked, turning his head ever so slightly to catch a glimpse of you. You shut your gaping mouth and hopped off him, dusting yourself of any of his filth as you walked past him. It was almost a dance in the way you blocked his path towards the light, your back facing him as your foot extended outwards and your body swayed.
"Don't be a child," Jack mumbled, stepping back and forth as he tried to find a way around you.
"Shut up, you don't even understand the value of this discovery. My father had spent ages-" You began before being cut off,
"Oh, the same old wishy-washy, swishy-swashy story. We know the legend, we know the journey (Y/N)," Jack yawned, "Your father was a thief for stealing that from Davy Jones."
"Thief? He was a pirate, if anyone's a thief you're the thief! You stole it from me when I was asleep!" You roared. Jack chuckled at your answer when you turned to face him,
"Pirate," He gestured to himself, with his eyebrows raising in the process, "It's part of the job description. And now you're a thief for wanting to steal what's mine... especially after the hell you just put me through," He moaned, rubbing his scalp, gently.
"It's mine." You hissed.
"No, it's mine," Jack stated, pointing to the circular stage.
"Mine."
"Nope, still mine, darlin'."
"You buffoon! It's mine! I get to be immortal, not you!"
"Eh, I've escaped death more times than you have, it's definitely mine, love."
"MINE!"
"Oi, don't raise your voice at me. My ears are a bit sensitive," Jack raised a finger, "Still mine, though."
"IT'S MINE, JACK!"
"Now you're just actin' like a child, be a lady... if you even are one," He raised an eyebrow with a suspicious look on his face. That was it, you couldn't take this banter any longer. You lunged forward, tackling him onto the stage as his head scraped against the rocky material. He groaned in pain as he thrashed around, rolling over you. Your elbows brazed against the ground under you and you hissed in pain before grabbing onto Jack's neck and dragging him under you.
As the fighting ensued, you both were completely oblivious to the drops of blood that seeped into the cracks beneath you. You tossed a punch at his jaw as he pulled your hair roughly. The opening of the wall behind you two was overshadowed by the insults that were thrown around with the occasional scream tossed into the mix. It wasn't until the light above you shifted towards the treasure chest meters away did the both of you stopped fighting; you lay on top of him, your head snapping towards the direction of the light as he did the same.
"Is that supposed to happen?" Jack asked, frowning.
"I-I don't know. I never really thought I'd get this far." You replied, trying to make out the sudden shift of the light. In an instant, Jack shoved you off him and bolted towards the chest. His fingers wriggled excitedly as he had a playful smirk on his face. He wrapped his hands around the edges of the chest and brought it open, only to find a small sheet of paper with instructions. That was a whole lot of build-up to nothing.
Glancing over his shoulder, he noticed your unconscious form slouched against a stone. He winced at the sight, carefully walking over to you. He must've shoved you too hard against the rocky stone when he flew to the chest. He glanced back down to the instructions in his hand, before looking back up to you. He took a deep sigh, realizing what he had to do.
When you had woken up, you found your head bandaged firmly. You lay on a small hammock as Gibbs stood before you.
"Aye, you aren't too much of a bad shape. It's a lucky thing Jack managed to bring you in like that." Gibbs smiled, his fingers brushing against your head. You rolled your eyes,
"Let me guess. He must've taken the treasure and run off, didn't he? He must have immortality and the greatest glory to ever exist." You seethed, crossing your arms.
"What? No. Lassie, he left you a little note before venturing off on his own to Tortuga. He's entrusted you to be Captain of the ship for the time being." Gibbs exclaimed, holding a note for you to see, "There's more to this whole shenanigan than just immortality. Apparently both your bloods were combined at the cave... meaning you both are one soul. He's gone off to search for more clues. In the meantime he wants you to rest. He seemed rather worried when we were fixing you up, and kept asking questions as to if you'd be alright or not."
Your mouth slightly parted at Gibbs' words, completely in disbelief. "He was probably making sure I was alright to ensure he'd get his share of the treasure."
"Oh, it was more than that, love," Gibbs winked at you, "I'm sure of it. I've never seen Jack like that around any other woman. Now, enough with me rambling, get your rest. You'll be having lots of more adventures with Jack Sparrow soon."
And with that, he left you with the note and you couldn't help but somehow feel your mind slowly consider Jack Sparrow as more than a thief, more than an acquaintance... and certainly more than a friend.
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imaginepirates · 9 months
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I love your take on potc characters and your headcanons for them. It’s just amazing. If it’s not a bother, I was wondering how do you think those characters would be as a parent? I mean we haven’t seen much parenting even for those that had kids in canon.
Ok so I actually have a few posts about this for James (hc)(hc)(hc) and Barbossa (fic) but! I can always expand. I also have one for Beckett (hc) since I'm obsessed with the idea.
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Jack – Oh god. This is such an interesting question, because I firmly believe that Jack is actively against having children. He really and truly cannot fathom the idea of having kids of his own and being torn between caring for them on land where they can lead good lives and being at sea where he himself is happy. It’s a moral conflict he just can’t bring himself to face. His idea of what a child’s life should be like is shaped by his relationship with Teague and the ways in which he recognizes his own childhood lacked structure and support. He knows he can’t be the parent he needed when he was younger, and is thus against having children at all. If he were to have kids of his own, he would have to make the painstaking decision to leave them on land. A pirate ship is no place to raise a child; it’s dangerous and unpredictable. In his eyes, the best place for a kid to grow up is in a place of more stability, where they might have a better chance at finding a legitimate profession and keep themselves out of the trouble Jack has lived in his whole life. Rather than having biological kids, I can more see him acting as a sort of father-figure to a lot of young boys who end up working on the Pearl, teaching them the ropes and watching as they grow in their abilities and confidence.
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Elizabeth – Elizabeth would be an interesting parent to have, for sure. I think her relationship with motherhood would be something very complex. For one, she has nothing to go off of, having had no mother of her own for most of her life. With her father gone, she can’t ask his advice, either. She’s such a fiercely independent and active person, too, that mothering may feel like an obstacle for her sometimes. That being said, I think she loves her children dearly and wants to do her absolute best for them. She teaches them all she knows—from proper behavior at formal functions to sword-fighting multiple enemies at once. She’s going to have the most well-rounded kids of all time, tbh. I’ve always kept this image in my mind of her showing up to a meeting of the Brethren Court with a kid just strapped to her front in a sling across her chest, and nobody says a damn thing. This also works as a method of volume control because nobody dares raise their voice and make the baby cry. I have an intrinsic need to see this happen, actually. I love the idea of her kids having pirate baby-sitters half the time when she needs to do something dangerous; Pintel and Ragetti act as honorary uncles, Barbossa as a granddad. Jack is the wine aunt. In all, her kids probably lead a kind of busy, chaotic life with people coming and going throughout their childhoods, but they have ties to an abundance of people who simply adore them. 
James – The most devoted, doting father ever. James is terrified to mess things up as a parent, and is always worrying that he won’t be any good at it. He adores his children and has unparalleled dedication to them. He wants them to have a good scholarly education, something he never had, but if they choose the military over school, he’ll personally oversee as much of their training as he can. He’s a deeply caring father, too. Though not good at expressing his own feelings, he’ll do anything for his children when they need him. He wants them to feel safe when coming to him, something he could never do with his own father. He makes sure to spend quality time with his kids doing things that aren’t school or work, instead playing games or taking them out riding or reading to them. When the kids are young, he’ll take naps with them on his chest, holding them close. He recognizes that he may have to be absent for long periods of time due to the nature of his job, and it tears at him. His greatest fear is going to sea for months while his children are still relatively little and coming home to find that they don’t remember him. Thus, he works hard to be as present as possible while he’s home, wanting desperately to make a positive impact on their lives. 
Will – Honestly, I feel like Will would make the most sane parent. After resolving things with his own father, he’s one of the people with the fewest daddy issues, and actually has a dad to ask questions of when he needs advice. Will feels like a very relaxed parent, not putting a lot of pressure on his kids. He was poor for most of his life, and though he wants better for his children than he had for himself, he also knows that happiness can be found working simple jobs. He’s very open to his children’s wishes and interests, and he’ll support them in pretty much damn anything. He definitely advises not becoming a pirate, though. Assuming the curse has lifted for him by the time he has children, he spends a lot of time with them. If it hasn’t, then he exploits loopholes and just has his kids come aboard the Dutchman as often as possible. He wants to be a presence in the lives of his children, and takes active steps to ensure it. I think he’s a little in awe as he watches them grow up, so impressed by all the things they accomplish, doing things he’d never even dreamed of when he was their age. He’s their number one hype man, too. 
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Beckett – I have…feelings about Beckett as a father. He’s not a particularly present one, given that he has zero knowledge on how to take care of kids. There’s a nanny, no question. He doesn’t really know how to properly bond with his children, but does ensure that they get the best education possible and that they have access to a wealth of resources. Especially as the children start to get older and enter society properly, he has a good time with them making snarky commentary about the social scene. Sass is the name of the game. Speaking of games, I do see him as the type to enjoy chess, and he feels a wave of pride whenever his kids beat him. He’s overprotective and possessive—he refuses to let his children suffer in fear as he did when he was their age. He has Mercer with them as a bodyguard whenever they leave the house. If anything happens to his kids, Beckett is not above having the person responsible killed. I think he has a certain terror of being alone, and though he’s not the best at socializing with his children, he never truly wants them to leave.  
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Barbossa – Hector is another doting father. He’s led a rough life, and though he doesn’t want that for his children, he’s not above taking them to sea when they grow old enough to sail. Before that, though, he leaves them on land with someone else, coming to visit every so often bearing gifts from all the places he’s been in the meantime. He can afford some degree of comfort for his children, too, and he certainly doesn’t spare that expense—if he can’t be there for his children, they’ll want for nothing else, dammit. Barbossa can’t give up his pirating ways to raise his kids on land himself, which is unfortunate, but the truth. If they do choose to go to sea, he takes them on as cabin-boys (or girls, he doesn’t give a fuck), and lets them learn and progress just like everyone else. I think he’d be happy to have them around, though a little concerned for their welfare. He knows better than anyone how dangerous a life at sea can be. Still, he isn’t too worried; he’s a realist if nothing else, and knows that there are chances for both good and bad. He puts effort into teaching his children and making sure they’re safe and cared for, but he’s a bit more hands-off than some of the others so his kids don’t feel like they’re suffocating. He lets them learn things for themselves, but makes sure they know they always have a (sort of) stable place to return to should they need it. 
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(also, if there’s anyone else you’d like to see for this, I think I could probably expand on the list)
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quillofspirit · 3 months
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2023 fic recs
If there's one thing to know about me, is that I love to read! and I love to share the good fics, so I figured I would put them all on one list💚
pssst! it's my first time doing anything like this, so if you have recommendations for the format, please do leave them in the comments or drop me a message! thanks xx
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Key 🍬 fluff 🧯 spicy 🌡️ smut ⛈️ angst 🌪️ all
For people I have tagged, please let me know if there is anything you’d like me to add or remove — like a link to another account. It’ll be my pleasure☺️
Lord of the Rings (and related)
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⛈️🧯Fuck the Forbidden pt. 1 by @entishramblings
Boromir x mermaidfem!oc Teens and Up but read the warnings carefully 9,500 words
Now I want mermaids in everything. why aren’t there mermaids in everything? The descriptions are so well done, everything is so vividly easy to visualize, oh I just loved it.
I am so hyped for pt 2!!
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🍬⛈️ Healing Touch by @ass-deep-in-demons
Boromir x fem!oc Teens and Up 4,350 words
My film studies degree was very happy about the descriptions of movement in this one - it’s a little specific but hear me out. It’s much easier to see the actors playing the scene when it’s described this well! THAT ENDING, I have to say I joined Legolas, and I don’t have excuses.
I cannot wait to read the rest of the adventures of Joanna!
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🍬 I Might Need to Kiss You by @fizzyxcustard
Thorin Oakenshield x fem!reader 400 words
I was squealing, this is so sweet. like the perfect little pick me up when you need a reminder, and Thorin is nothing if not a good king to his subjects 😇
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🍬 Sweet Conversations by @glassgulls
Haldir x fem!reader Teens and Up 5,360 words
did I almost break my mouse when I clicked on this? noooo
Would I do it again? approximately 5 times since ☺️
Who doesn’t love sneaking around and kissing pretty elves, especially when they propose the idea so nicely… Just read it, you’re welcome
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⛈️🧯Transformed by @sotwk
Thranduil’s son OC x fem!reader Teens and Up 2,400 words
There are at least two werewolves! When I tell you I read it three nights in a row, just to truly catch all the little things that made me go absolutely feral this so lovely to read. Yes, there’s gore (only a little bit) and there’s angst, but there’s also dialogue that would be made into gifs were it a movie.
Pirates of the Caribbeans
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🌪️Catch the Wind by eriathiel (@esta-elavaris)
James Norrington x fem!oc Explicit 418,000 words
101 chapters of epic, pirates, and sweetness. The definition of you will suffer and you will like it. I finished this in like two days, because I couldn’t put it down, like a child on Halloween night going through their whole bag of candy.
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⛈️🍬 Fallen Through Time by eriathiel (@esta-elavaris)
Catch the Wind AU Mature Ongoing; 34,000 words
12 Chapters so far, but it’s probably going to make me want to read everything about Theodora again. I am very normal about this character. 😌
Other fandoms
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🌡️One of Those days by @capricornafterdark
Jason Todd x fem!reader Explicit 750 words
Sometimes you need to be taken care of, and sometimes its easier to take care of others.
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🍬Patience by @velvetcloxds
Charlie Swan x fem!reader Just straight cuteness 600 words
A cute yet serious conversation with Charlie
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🌡️That Takes Trust Darlin by @capricornafterdark
Jason Todd x transmasc!reader Explicit 1,950 words
It takes a lot of trust to tell a person about your desires, and even more when you spend your time catching villains.
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🌪️ What Happens After You? by StrengthBeforeWeakness
Ominis Gaunt x fem!oc Mature 219,000 words
A badass Ravenclaw, sweet sweet Garreth, and dark!Sebastian. I am tempted to say it’s almost a Hogwarts Legacy AU because the lore in this fic is so incredible, it feels new again.
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These are my headers and dividers, please do not use them.
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prismaprimrose · 9 months
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Things Elizabeth Swan, notorious Pirate King, definitely did in her free time as a teenager: role glass jars and bottles full of all sorts of things down the stairs to see which would roll the farthest before smashing everywhere.
Thing James Norrington, notorious Pirate King enabler, and a naval Captain in his 20, did: provided the finest of glass from all over the Carribean, and in turn the world, anytime he returned from sea.
Sure, sure, sure, he SAID the pickled plums, and the strongest of Vodka were for the governor, but it was perfectly known to all parties that the governor.... did not want the things inside the jars and bottles. James, really. Please. You are the worst gift giver. The back porch's stairs are STAINED James.
But more to the point, I'm just picturing on one of those glorious days during Dead Man's Chest, where James had nothing to loose by acting improper before the crew of the Black Pearl and Elizabeth was irritated with Jack, the two of them just-
Early one morning, while half the crew's still rubbing sleep from their eyes, Elizabeth approaches James, sulking by the railing. She looks him over, then out to sea. "You know what I haven't done in ages?"
"Hm?"
"Rolled a good wine bottle down the stairs," Elizabeth says and watches the slight smile pull and James lips. "Of course, there's only rum here, but... I'm sure we could find some interesting contestants. Would you care to join my sesrch?"
"You know, I think I would." James says, and they set about looking for the best bottles and jars the Black Pearl has to offer.
Of course, they're not about to go smashing anything full of consumables in the middle of the ocean, so mostly the find empty ones and fill them with ocean water from a bucket they keep tipping overboard.
Marty asks what they are doing about halfway through as the breakfast is being handed out and gets nothing but a half acknowledging "Makes the smashing better," from Elizabeth as she finishes filling one jar and tosses the bucket back into the water.
"So you're.... making weapons?" Asks Gibbs. He supposes the extra weight would make the smashing over an enemy head more effective, yes.
"No. It just looks impressive." James says, shoving a cork back into a now full French wine bottle. "It's part of the scorring system."
The crew has completely abandoned all presence of getting the Pearl ready to sail, as they stand around watching the two High Societies finish filling all the ships bottles, and lugging them up to the quarter deck not ten minutes later.
And then, James Norrington, former pride of the British Navy, sits down with a hefty looking jar.
He sets it on the edge of the stairs, and gives it, just, the gentlest of pushes.
The crew watch, befuddled as the jar thunk-thunk-thunks and impressive three stairs before smashing, sending salt water cascading down, yes, quite prettily.
"Eh. 4 out of 10." Elizabeth says. "The distance was fine, and the pattern of the glass did shatter into pretty chunks. But then the water really doesn't... do much. "
"Sea water's really not as fun as congealing stew." James agrees.
"True." Elizbeth snorts, lining up her jar and sending it on its way. It makes it near the bottom, before the bottom and top both break off, and the content merely spills as the majority of the bottle clink-clink-clinks the rest of the way. The majority of the bottle rolled the last step anti-climactically. "The back porch still smells in the summers, you know."
"I do know... It's a wonder your father never realized it wasn't a dead animal underneith. 3 out of 10." James says. Before adding. "Hate when they do that."
The crew stars at them, awestruck. It's absolute nonsense to rival Jack.
And really they shouldn't allow it to continue, the jars and bottles could be usefully after all, and the glass will need cleaning, but... it's the focused intensity in which they watch the bottles roll, and the brief hints of glee at their destruction, immediately snuffed out by a judgmental sort of prudishness as they rate each other's choice of glass, that has them all... rather trying to rate the bottle smashing themselves.
One bottle even smashes some on one step and more on the next, taking four totally steps before nothing more can properly roll to be smashed, and this seems to be the sweet spot, for it garners a proper whooping of joy from the two, and an agreed 8 out of 10, for it was a shame, still, the water was not as satisfactory sort of filling which to spill about the stairs.
Jack wakes up to the sound of glass after glass smashing and, fearing for another mutiny, rushes out of his cabin, only to see his crew gather just out front. Circled around the stairs.
Gibbs holds him back as he comes rushing throw the crowd, owning to him being barefoot.
"Wot, is happening aboard my ship!?" Jack asks no one in particular as James rates a clamp jar full of sloshing sea water a "0 out of 10, absolute disapointment," when it makes it all the way down the stairs and rolls unbothered right into the crowd.
"It's a game Commodore and Miss Swan made up," Gibbs says, not looking away as the next bottle is rolls. "They're... rating the glass on as far as it'll go, the way it break and how satisfying the mess is it makes."
"...why?" Jack asks.
"It's also a way to alleviate stress, it seems," Ragetti answers from Jack other side. "And taking back some control of they're situations, by relishing in the willfull destruction of things most in good society would more often expected to be handled with care and delicacy."
He gets nothing but baffled stares. But then, he does say the oddest things on occasion.
Jack turns back to watch the proceedings, content that it's making Elizabeth happy- a happy Elizbeth being a cooperative Elizabeth- and the knowledge he can simply make Norrington clean it all up.
Except then, a few moments later, Elizabeth and James announce the grand finale and produce each a familiar dark glass bottle. Before Jack can move to stop them, they're both rolling the very last of Jack's rum store down the stairs, in what seems to be a race.
The first bottle, James', smashes on the second step, and Elizbeth's makes it only two more before the glass shatters.
Elizabeth and James both turn to look at their captain.
"10 out of 10?" Elizabeth asks.
"Oh, a perfect finale." James agrees.
They're only not thrown overboard for their usefulness.
A few days later, when Jack drops his Jar of Dirt over the quarter deck rail, it's to the captain's grate fury, that Will Turner pauses in all the chaos, to lean over the railing.
He briefly assessed the mess before saying, "3 out of 10! The dirt looks neat, but it's nothing to pickle relish, and the jars still in far too few peices!"
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esta-elavaris · 6 months
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Flufftober Day 8: Rainy Day ~ Theodore Groves/OC [1,713 words]
My Flufftober '23 masterpost can be found here 💜✨
This is set in the same universe as my James Norrington/OC story, Catch the Wind, so some details might not make sense if you haven't read that. There'll be more parts to this at some point, not related to flufftober, but if I didn't end it where it did, it'd end up being a behemoth and not ready for day 8. So we'll call it a starting point 😏
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Hope was observant - and, better still, she was no fool. She knew that her employers were…out of the ordinary. More so the mistress than the master, but then again seeing as he’d married the mistress, he had to have his fair share of quirks. But none of that was something she considered to be a bad thing. In fact, it made working for them rather pleasant. She didn’t comment upon the oddities to their faces, she wasn’t an idiot, and more importantly she didn’t comment upon them behind their backs, either. No matter how many people pressed her for details on whether they matched up to all of the strange stories surrounding the two of them.
They paid her exceedingly well, and treated her better still, and that was more than enough to earn Hope’s loyalty. Which was why, when she entered the kitchen one morning to find a strange man in the pantry, she thought little of taking up the nearest sharp object. It happened to be a carving fork rather than a knife, but she brandished it before her with two hands.
The master was away, and the mistress would likely be abed for a few more hours still. She only prayed little Antonia would remain upstairs until she could convince the intruder to leave.
“I don’t know who you are,” she said, “but you must leave. Quickly. Or else I’ll call for the master of the house.”
If he had been watching the house, he would know that the master was not home. But hopefully this had been a flight of opportunism, and not a calculated move. Hopefully he had come here alone, and not with some horrid gang.
The man turned and blinked at her in dismay, raising his hands up before his chest, palms out as though surrendering. He certainly wasn’t dressed like a vagrant - in a waistcoat, shirt, and breeches that were in good shape albeit with some mud, and with long dark hair combed neatly back and tied at the nape of his neck.
“I’m afraid there’s been a misunderstanding,” he said.
“Indeed there has,” Hope replied evenly, “you are in the wrong house, sir.”
“My name is Theodore Groves, Miss…?” when she did not supply her name, he continued. “Miss. I am an old colleague of Admiral- er, that is, an old friend of the Norringtons. I returned here with Mr Norrington late last night, and it was thought best not to wake any of the servants to prepare a bedroom for me. I am here at the invitation of the Norringtons, you have my word.”
“Groves?” she echoed quietly, faltering.
“I was a Lieutenant under Admiral Norrington in his days with the Royal Navy. I’ve maintained correspondence with the Norringtons since then with some regularity. If you will allow me to go to my bag, I can fetch a letter that might prove it.”
Hope felt the colour drain from her face, and she immediately discarded the carving fork down to the tabletop. For she recognised the name, and were he not who he said he was, he would have no way of concocting such a story.
“Oh my God,” she said thinly. “I am so sorry, sir, I didn’t realise that…if I had known…”
“You’re not in the habit of threatening guests of the Norringtons with kitchen implements, then?” he asked wryly, a small smile on his face.
She had to place a hand onto the tabletop in order to remain upright. Unconventionality of her employers aside, she’d just wielded a carving fork at a good friend of theirs. It was a sackable offense in anybody’s estimation. Not growing to comfortable here was something she’d vowed not to do – not because she thought they might kick her out at a moment’s notice, but because it would be all too easy for an idiot to take their kindness for weakness and push their luck here. Hope had no wish to do that, for it seemed the easiest way to ruin a good thing.
“I am so sorry,” she said again.
The smile quickly slipped from Groves’ face as he appeared to realise the extent of her horror, and he held out his hands, palms flat, approaching as though hoping to calm a spooked horse.
“Truly, do not trouble yourself with it,” he insisted, stopping just out of arm’s reach. “It warms me, if anything, to see the sort of loyalty the Norringtons inspire in those in their employ.”
Hope nodded, her face quickly trading going cold and stark-white to blazing crimson.
“Well, can I fetch you anything, sir?”
“Are you a cook?”
“No, a maid – in a manner of speaking. But the cook isn’t here on a full-time basis, there’s no need for that, so if you’re resolved to wait for him you’ll only go hungry.”
“In a manner of speaking?” he echoed, a small smile on his face. “That sounds far more suspect than I think you intended. Like you’re a maid by day but assassin by night.”
Hope breathed a laugh. Yes. He was definitely a friend of the mistress.
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Theodore Groves, from their first meeting onwards, was on Hope’s mind more than was strictly necessary. Nor wise. At first it was embarrassment at their first meeting – as well as worry. Mrs Norrington would perhaps find it amusing, but Mr Norrington, while not cruel, was a deal more serious than his wife. More of a stickler for the done way of things.
But, that night, when Mrs Norrington introduced their guest to Hope as she cleared the dinner table for them, he smiled politely at her as though they had never met…and offered her a reassuring smile when her employers’ attention moved elsewhere. The worry had left her then, but her curiosity had only grown.
He was kind. A kindness that seemed to seep into his face and his general demeanour and shine through – and he was a dream of a guest to deal with, for he had her employers’ habit of seeking to make her job easier for her rather than falling into bluster about getting what they pay for. Plates were organised and neatly stacked at one end of the table for her to collect after dinner, they made their own bed after rising, and Mrs Norrington even insisted on dressing herself, or making do with only the help of her husband – and on being called Mistress Theodora, when they were in conversation. Only because Hope could not quite bring herself just to call her Theo.
Mrs Norrington, she knew, had profited from a great deal of upwards mobility, and so Hope suspected that to be the root of her kindness, perhaps not taking kindle to being on the other side of the great divide, and Mr Norrington likely was content to follow his wife’s lead for the most part – although he took far more easily to the conventional ways of addressing servants. The matter of dressing, she thought, was less an oddity and more a great sadness. It was no secret that she’d taken a knife to the belly in all of that mess a few years ago, and what it had cost her. She could not be blamed for wishing to keep the evidence of such a time private. But, to the point, guests were always a wild card, and Groves was proving to be far towards the positive end of the spectrum than of the ilk who traipsed mud across the house with smirks on their faces because they knew it would not be their job to clean it.
No, Mr Groves seemed to suffer from the opposite problem. The same sort that Mrs Norrington did, if their second real encounter was anything to go by.
She’d been in the midst of mending one of Mrs Norrington’s favourite nightgowns at the great, cleaned, table in the kitchen when their guest had all but burst into the room.
“It’s raining,” he said in response to her wide-eyed stare.
“…It’s England, sir,” she said slowly.
He smiled at that, his face boyish in his amusement, before she could worry that she’d sounded rude.
“Yes, I’m aware of that – but you have an awful lot of clothing on that line out there.”
Oh. Oh no.
Such was her haste to race out, basket in hand, that she didn’t even notice Groves not five paces behind until he was at her side, carefully unpinning clothing from the line and throwing it into the basket as she did.
“You shouldn’t, sir,” she insisted – albeit distractedly. “If the Norringtons see…”
“They’re out – they’ve taken Antonia into town. And you must know Theodora well enough by now to know she’d judge me more harshly if I did not help you,” he snorted. “Furthermore, I feel I owe you for that dreadful fright I gave you.”
He had a point there – and she didn’t really anticipate their ire, but it simply did not look good for their guest, for their very old friend, to be seen engaging in drudgery while he stayed. But the rain grew heavier, raining down upon them with the ferocity of hailstones, and whatever reservations she had were soon washed away by it.
Groves proved to be a skilled tactician, too, for he soon realised that she could take down the clothing at least twice as quickly as he, and adopted a new strategy. Shrugging off his coat, he stood in a shirt and waistcoat that soon grew sodden, and shielded the basket with his overcoat so that the clothing within wouldn’t be drenched by the time she was done. He cut a ridiculous figure, hunched awkwardly over the basket as though his back was bent with age he could hardly boast of. When his actions earned him a disbelieving stare, he simply laughed and urged her to hurry. She didn’t need to be told twice.
They returned indoors freezing, soaked through, robbed of their breath by cold and exertion both…but giggling like children. Best of all, most of the clothing was little more than damp. And they could both pretend that the flush of their cheeks was thanks to the cold, rather than the fact that they could not look one another in the eye without smiling.
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Links: AO3 -- FF.net -- flufftober masterpost -- dividers by cafekitsune
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mimilind · 1 year
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The Stowaway Passenger - Part 1
Pairing: Will Turner x Reader
Rating: T
Chapter Word Count: 1950
Parts: [ Next Part > ] [ Masterlist ]
Full story: [ AO3 ]
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1. Stowaway
It was only the first day after you left Port Royal, and you had never felt this sick in your life. The smell had much to do with it, closely followed by the torturous heat, the rolling motions of the ship and the pitch darkness in the cargo hold. Had you known the stout freight ship you had chosen for your escape would carry salted fish, you may have thought twice about boarding it, but there was no going back now. 
If you survived this, you would be free at last; that was worth any discomfort. And at least you had not thrown up – yet.
You heard a squeaking sound and the hatch opened above you. Cowering behind a crate, you tried to make yourself as tiny as possible, holding your breath.
A tendril of light illuminated your surroundings slightly, and you heard steps on the ladder. A loud, rough voice called down: “Move all the crates from that side to the other. And get on with it, or I’ll make the boatswain whip yer. Lazy bilgerat!” 
The hatch shut with a loud wham, and darkness returned. No, not quite. Whomever had been sent down the ladder carried a lantern. You could hear them swear under their breath, obviously annoyed at getting such a meaningless task. 
Then it struck you that their task would put you in danger of discovery, and with a pounding heart you hoped they would refuse doing it. 
Sadly, you had no such luck. Within moments, you heard grunts and ragged panting as the unlucky sailor began to push the boxes over the wooden deck.
If only you could fit inside one of the crates! But they were nailed firmly shut.
The sounds grew closer as the sailor worked their way towards you, and the light brighter. A whiff of musk hit your nose. To your surprise, it smelled pleasant. Being brought up in a fine home, you had never been this close to a working man, and in other circumstances it might have made you curious. 
Not now, however. You were too afraid. Any moment now they would find you, and drag you up to the captain, and what would he do then? Beat you? Keelhaul you? Or… maybe he would force you to walk the plank – pushing you off the ship, bound hands and feet.
Probably not the latter, you thought. You were too easily recognizable as a rich person in your fine clothes, and the captain would realize your family might pay him to get you back in one piece. 
Your father would pay, you knew that. If it became known what you had done, it would ruin your family’s status in society forever. Especially considering how long and hard he had worked to procure your marriage.
That marriage… Just the thought of your intended made bile rise in your throat. Going back was not an option. If you were discovered, you must make sure this sailor helped you remain hidden at any cost!
The crate you were hiding behind moved, and you heard a breathless voice: “What the heck?” 
His lantern blinded you, so you could not see what he looked like, but you prayed inwardly he was a kind man.
“Shh,” you whispered, a finger against your lips. “Please…”
He moved the lantern closer, moving it up and down as he regarded you. “Who are you?” he murmured after what felt like an eternity, and thank goodness, he kept his voice down! 
“I’m someone who needs to escape,” you pleaded. “Can you pretend you never saw me?”
“What’s the point? We’ll make land soon, picking up more cargo. You’ll be found then, if not sooner.” 
Darn. Darn darn darn! 
“I thought this ship was heading for Europe!” you hissed, despair filling you.
“It is, eventually. But not until the hold’s full.” The sailor placed the lantern on a crate, and for the first time you could see his face. He was a handsome, youngish looking man, a little over twenty-five perhaps. But what caught you off guard was the fact that he only wore a pair of short, cotton breeches. 
You tried hard not to stare at his exposed chest, but could not avoid noticing how muscular he was, and how the moisture from his previous exertion made his tanned skin almost glow in the lamplight.
“I’m screwed,” you muttered. 
“What are you running from?” he asked curiously.
“Marriage,” you admitted. “My father found a spouse for me. Rich and important. But I just…” You sighed. “I just couldn’t. Not without love.”
“I understand.”
“You do?”
He nodded. “I’m kind of running away too… I was engaged to the woman I had pined after since childhood, but once it was settled, I realized I’d grown out of love. Somehow, by all the hardship we endured to get each other, we had changed.” His dark eyes filled with sadness. Then he straightened up. “I must continue working, or the captain will have my hide.”
“Need help?” you heard yourself offer, though you had not done an honest day’s work in your life before.
The sailor looked at your clean, smooth hands and embroidered clothes, and his lips twitched. “Sure.” He held out a dirty fist to you. “I’m Will, by the way. Will Turner.”
His hand was warm and felt strong when you shook it and told him your name. 
Hearing your surname, Will whistled silently. “Good Lord. I imagine there’s quite a bounty to be had, if the captain brings you back to Port Royal.”
You stared at him, bitterly regretting exposing yourself. “Please…” you whispered, earnestly shaking your head.
“No worries.” His grip on your hand hardened. “Even if I were that cruel, I’d not give the captain the satisfaction. He’s probably the worst captain I’ve known. I hate his guts, but sadly this was the only ship hiring, and I just had to get out of there.”
Breathing out in relief, you pressed his hand in return. “Thank you. I mean it.” 
Your eyes met, and suddenly the air felt even hotter than before. You found it hard to breathe and quickly dropped your gaze. “Let’s work then,” you said lamely.
The crates were ridiculously heavy, but by the time you had managed to push one to the other side, Will had already moved three of them. 
“How can you do it so fast?” you panted, feeling every muscle in your body protest as you began on another crate.
“I used to be a blacksmith.” He smirked.
No wonder he was so fit, you thought, appreciatively glancing at his broad shoulders when he had his back turned. You felt a flutter of excitement deep within.
When the work was done, you were exhausted and flopped down on a box with shaking arms and legs.
“Thanks for the assistance,” said Will, though he obviously knew you had not done much to ease his task. “I like your spirit. Perhaps I should help you in return.”
“Oh, that would be wonderful! But how?”
“I think you could pass as a deckhand, if you borrow some spare clothes from me. The captain is a lazy lout, and can hardly write. He doesn’t know the names of half the crew he hired.”
“But don’t you think my name would give me away? What if he’s heard of me before?”
“True. Then let’s call you…” He glanced at the crates and grinned. “Casey. Or Carter?”
“Casey Carter sounds good.” You grinned back. 
You hid behind the crates again while Will climbed back up, promising to return at night with clothes you could borrow. It would be easier for you to sneak out unnoticed in the protection of darkness.
While waiting, you thought about what you were about to do, and slowly the courage left you. You were a rich brat, with a weak body and no experience of hard labor, and suddenly you felt sure the other sailors would see through your cover immediately and call you out. And what about your seasickness? If you threw up in front of a bunch of rowdy seamen you would probably die of shame. And then you would die again when the captain tossed you overboard.
When Will returned after a few hours, you had bit your nails down to the quick and was a nervous wreck.
“I’m not sure I can do this,” you whispered shakily.
“No worries. I’ll look out for you.” He smiled encouragingly. Such an attractive smile he had!
“Why are you so kind to a stranger?” you asked. 
“I told you. I like your spirit.” He squeezed your shoulder.
The clothes Will had brought were a typical sailor’s outfit with breeches, an offwhite shirt and a vest, and a scarf to tie back your hair with. You changed behind the crates, though you told yourself you were being silly, really – your underwear covered almost all of you, and besides, had he not exposed his bare chest to you before? Soon you would share living quarters with the rest of the crew, and you would have to get used to showing a little skin. 
The clothes were not too dirty, but not freshly laundered either like you were used to. You did not mind; on the contrary, you liked the exotic, masculine scent impregnated in the garments. You knew Will had worn them.
When you returned to the circle of lamplight, you looked down at yourself critically, thankful the shirt was loose with long sleeves and covered your body effectively. You hoped it was not too obvious you were no real sailor.
There was a glint in Will’s eyes as he regarded you. “Looking good.”
Before you left the cargo hold, he explained to you the work you would do as a deckhand; mostly cleaning the deck and performing lesser chores, and when the ship reached the next port, help carry goods aboard. Will would make sure you were not assigned complicated tasks such as raising sails or climbing the rigging.
You went up the ladder, Will first and you closely behind. He cautiously peeked out before allowing you up. 
“Coast is clear,” he whispered, taking your hand to help you.
You drew in a deep breath of the cool night air. How wonderful to be out of that horrible hole!
Will did not release your hand. With you in tow he sneaked over the deserted deck until you came to another hatch, which led to the sleeping quarters. You descended a new ladder, and your stomach sank as you realized the respite from the stuffy, stinking cargo hold had been short lived; here it was almost equally bad, although the stench of salted fish was replaced with that of unwashed humans. 
The area was crammed with sleeping people, snoring away in hammocks hanging from the low ceiling. The floor underneath was no less crowded; littered with seaman’s chests, bags, used clothes and, in a corner, a stinking bucket which you suspected you as a deckhand would be assigned to empty. 
“Where do I sleep?” you breathed in Will’s ear. 
Instead of replying, he pulled you with him to one side, where two empty hammocks hung very close together. “It will be a bit tight, but there was not much room left.” His breath tickled your neck when he whispered.
You nodded, and gratefully accepted his offer to help you get up. He placed his hands on your waist and promptly lifted you onto the swinging bed, as if you weighed hardly anything.
The hammocks were so close you could feel his body heat next to yours when he lay down, but in this strange and frightening situation, that only made you feel safe.
⚔ ⚔ ⚔
Parts: [ Next Part > ] [ Masterlist ]
Full story: [ AO3 ]
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themaradwrites · 3 months
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False Dichotomy
Because of the previous Norrington reblog, lol.
Felt the need to share a snippet from this fic from 2020/2021.
Plot:
Charlie LaChance takes a drunken wrong turn and winds up in Port Royal, working with the last person she'd expect - Commodore James Norrington - to help Jack Sparrow get back his beloved Black Pearl. Undead pirates, Davy Jones, and a depressed former Commodore turned Admiral turned former Admiral - what has her drunken stumble got her into?
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While not as exciting as Tortuga, Charlie loved visiting the pirate islands in the Bahamas. The water was cleaner and on a good sunny morning, you could see dolphin pods swimming just off shore. That would be her plan come the dawn, watch the dolphins playing in the surf. But right now she had a clandestine meeting that Jack would kill her for, if he found out. Good thing he was buried in...well, she would rather not think about it. At least him visiting the brothel meant she would not have to worry about being caught.
She kept her face hidden as she approached the inn and walked straight to the room she knew he had taken for the night. Before she could even raise her fist to the door, Commodore Norrington opened it and stood back to let her in. He was dressed in dark, nondescript clothing instead of his uniform. Two mugs of ale and a deck of cards waited at the sole table in the room.
It was to be their usual game, then. If Charlie won, she bought Jack and the Pearl time to escape without Jack ever knowing they had nearly been caught; if Norrington won, she would leave the ship for two weeks to give him time to catch Jack without risking her being caught. It was enjoyable, but Charlie always won because the Commodore was too noble to cheat. Though perhaps the ale was meant to get her drunk and cheat in a roundabout way. The thought made her smile.
“Commodore, you don’t need to get me drunk to seduce me,” she joked, draping her jacket on one of the two chairs.
The Commodore came up behind her and muttered into her ear, “If this was an attempt at seduction, Charlotte, you would know it.”
She felt the rich baritone down to her toes. It would do her no good to let him know that, though, so she bit her lip to keep from grinning and continued their banter. “I’m going to have to find new ways to throw you off your game.”
“You threatened to strip when we first met,” he countered.
“So, you’re saying I ought to strip?”
Norrington laughed a little as he took the seat opposite her. “Are you like this with everyone?” he asked, smirking.
“Only you, Commodore,” she replied with a grin.
He smiled and shook his head. “Will you finally agree to stay away from The Black Pearl and Jack Sparrow without having to gamble?"
“Captain,” she corrected.
To his credit, the Commodore did not even flinch that time. “That’s a ‘no’, then,” he said, with a smile that did not quite reach his eyes. “If you’re caught with him, I can’t guarantee your protection, Charlotte.”
“I understand,” she replied, then took a swig of her ale. “But I can’t just leave him to his own devices.”
Norrigton snorted a laugh. “I believe Sparrow is fine with his own devices, if history is anything to go by.”
“Perhaps,” she agreed. “Are we going to talk about Jack all night or are you going to deal?”
Norrington grinned widely, then began to deal the cards.
Tagging my general taglist: @munstysmind @chickensarentcheap @asirensrage @arrthurpendragon @bi-ologistofthehills @mrsmungus @ocappreciationtag @bardic-tales @thatmagickjuju @thebejeweledwatercat @kingsmakers @curiousdamage
@residentdormouse I know you're not on my tags for now, but I felt the need to tag you for this one, lol. No idea why. Totally random. *cough*
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swannposting · 3 months
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    ♡ art for my fic, Recompense, by the spectacular @everythingispirates!!! ♡
                           ↓ excerpt from the moment depicted ↓
Eventually the dagger stops being a suitable conduit for her rage. It clatters at his side as she resorts to her fists instead, bloodying her knuckles as she pounds out every regret and every painful memory into the open flesh sprawled out on the floorboards of her father’s old study. Her body is rippling with a new sensation that transcends anger. This violent desire can only be born of hellfire, and she finds that it is insatiable. Elizabeth continues her assault, blow after blow. She does not hear Jack crouch beside her. She does not even remember his presence until he slides an arm around her waist and clamps a hand over her mouth to quiet the unbridled battle cries that have been spilling from her with each attack. Jack draws her back, tries to guide her away from the killing, but she isn’t finished!
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wanderdreamer · 4 months
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so ... i did something that made a younger version of myself very happy recently. i began to write. i was never sure how to start and not even sure where it would go, but i decided to enjoy what it would feel like for the time being. to give a lil mini proper go of it. and what better way to flex my creative muscles than to tackle something i truly, truly love: pirates of the caribbean. you got that right folks, i am now a fanfic writer (can i call myself that yet ...? *do* i call myself that ...?). anyways, i just wanted to voice it into this here void, to not only force myself to have pride in what i’m attempting, but also in case anyone stumbled across it and it happens to make them smile. so without further ado, the beginning to something new. here goes nothing.
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Note
Hi! Thank you so much for my last x reader imagine! If it’s okay, I have another idea for Davy Jones to send in. So the reader is now finding her sailing on the Pearl and she’s in some kind of danger. (She’s human) She knows it to but keeps it from everyone, Jack finds out about it and accidentally says something about it to Davy and when Davy goes to get her, she refuses at first because she believes he never really cared at first as she believed in the past. But in the end, he proves her wrong.
Hello dear💖, thanks for the request. Davy Jones x reader🐙🏴‍☠️ a beacon to spare🐙👧
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The Black pearl travelled across the waves, the pearls captain, the most infamous pirate of all, steered his ship. Jack sparrow, the captain that survived death, myths and legends, a pirate that caused chaos to follow. It had been a few years since Jack had last spoken to Will and Elizabeth, he assumed they were probably married by now. Jack stood on the quarter deck steering the wheel of the pearl, he took a glance at the compass pointing in the direction of his fated desire. Footsteps were trailing up from the lower deck to the quarter deck, Master Gibbs approached Jack with a question “Cap’n, what shall we do with the girl”. Jack perked up from his compass to his first mate, the girl they had found mysteriously washed up on a broken ship; shards of broken planks laid around as the girl had clung onto a piece for life. Jack had taken the girl on board to possibly bring her to the next port or to join his crew.
“We shouldn’t let er’ stick around it’s bad luck for women to be on board” Gibbs speaks superstitiously.
Jack was still undecided; on one hand she would be held a hostage or she would join their crew. Unlike most pirates, Jack wasn’t ruthless, he valued people’s lives and preferred the adventure rather then bloodshed. Master Gibbs kept his eyes on the lower deck to make sure the girl was safe, the crew on board the pearl surrounded the woman questioning whether she was a sea witch, a rich lady, or the daughter of an infamous pirate.
“She’s a witch, a witch I tell yer” the oldest crewmate cried out.
“Nah, the girl be just another landlubber with riches” another grinned.
“Yer both wrong, she be a bad omen” a pirate widened his eyes “she be a legend, a myth tha’ sends sailors toward their watery graves”.
Master Gibbs noticed the third crewmates response; he turned his attention toward the group. “Thay’ say a girl sailed with tha’ most infamous captain of all, he spared er’ life as a way ta’ regain humanity, perhaps as a way ta’ reach out toward the sea, ta’ regain the attention of the woman he once loved fer sparin’ a child”.
Master Gibbs shouted out toward the false accusation “That girl ain’t be tha’ one from that legend, I eard’ she had banacles all over her face an’ her features were tha’ of a hideous sea beast”. The crew all looked over frightened, they knew the legend that surrounded that tale but as Gibbs reassured them, they had nothing to fear. Besides the way she was, that girl was too human to be apart of an undead ship. Jack noticed something strange, he looked down at his compass, the dial was spinning around and around frantically. The black pearl’s boards below started to turn black as Barnacles started to form below. Jack’s eyes widened as he started to take a brace of action, Master Gibbs quickly followed as they headed toward the main deck. “Aye, cap’n somethin’ be lurkin beneath” a man with an eyepatch stated.
The waves started to pick up speed as something ferocious hoisted above sea, the ship sighted had a rotten look with barnacles and coral growing from its sides. “It’s the flying Dutchman” someone screamed, within their panic everyone started manning their stations. The canons were soon loaded, Jack shouted out orders trying to steer the pearl away from the Dutchman, if anything he hoped the kraken wouldn’t track them down. The captain of the Flying Dutchman roared with fury “SPARRAH!”.
Jack turned to see Davy Jones; with no hesitation he kept shouting out for more speed. Davy pursued with higher power; the wrecked, torn masts had gathered enough wind to catch speed. The two ships hand in hand, sailed faster then any other ship had ever set sailed. Jack with all his might tried to steer the pearl while Gibbs kept ordering the men to prepare the canons. The mysterious girl on board the pearl looked back toward the pursuing ship, immediately she recognised it as the Flying Dutchman. Within no time, the mysterious girl leaned forward against the railing to see their captain. The girl quickly ran toward the quarter deck to speak to the captain of this ship, only to recognise it was the infamous Jack Sparrow.
“Captain Sparrow” the girl shouted, “I mean you no harm, my name is y/n, I come from the ships vessel the Jolly roger, my father was a sailor you see”.
Jack peered down to spot the woman shouting to him “aye, pleasure love but we are under attack”. Master Gibbs prepared to give the command to fire the canons.
Y/n shouted once more to the captain “Captain Sparrow, the captain on board of that ships vessel wishes to speak not attack”. At first Jack thought y/n was insane, clearly, she had never met Davy Jones but perhaps it would make sense if Jones was after the girl if she escaped death. Jack put the Black Pearl at ease, the Flying Dutchman caught up, it’s vessel, rotten and crooked stood inches from the pearl. Normally Jack would take his chances trying to come up with some witty way to escape but if what the girl says is true then perhaps he could pass her on. Davy Jones stood directly on the railing of the Dutchman, the crew on the other hand held their weapons as they prepared to dock the pearl. “Sparrah’ ya stall’ ave’ a debt” Davy laughed; the crew of the black pearl froze in fear.
Jack smiled nervously “ello’ fishface”, he walked down the steps from the quarter master to the main deck’s railing.
 “Jack Sparrah’ ya ave’ somethin’ o’ mine I wish ta’ collect” davy shouted.
“Sorry mate, less it’s about the debt, I don’t see what else I owe ya” Jack explained confused, what else could Davy possibly want aside from Jack’s debt.
Then it hit him, of course, the girl, she escaped Jones’s clutches, that would explain why he was chasing the pearl down, well aside from Jack’s debt. The crew came to a quick panic as they tried to offer up anyone of them just to survive.
“Take him” one sailor grabbed another.
“No, him, he’s only got a few years left” The other fought back.
Y/n came to a stance shouting “No! Jones, I know what you want, I have what you need”.
Davy peeked his head to see the girl, his tentacles curled and twisted, with one raise of his claw he pointed toward y/n. “You! yar stall ave’ a debt lassy” Jones shouted; Jack watched as y/n offered herself. In this sense Jack added up, if y/n owed Jones a debt, she was to sail 100 years on board the Dutchman. If the legends and myths were true for y/n then perhaps she was the beacon that Jones saved in hope for humanity to regain his humanity for the sea. Davy along with his crew jumped onto the pearl, he couldn’t take any chances with anyone escaping. Davy stood taller than Jack, in one husk Jack asked, “It’s the girl you want isn’t it mate, you’re the one that saved her savvy”. Davy in response twisted his tentacles in irritation “ye dan’t gaht ta’ speak Sparrah’”. However, knowing Jack, he didn’t stop there “was it true, was it true that the girl standing right over there was the one you saved from drowning mate” Jack grinned “you saved her didn’t ya savvy, you didn’t torture her like the others-.”
“Yer better shut yar trap Sparrah!” Davy growled.
“One question though, her face ain’t as hideous and deformed like the rest, could it be you spared her life savvy” Jack grinned, putting the pieces together.
Davy in response drew his sword against Sparrow’s neck “yar battah’ stop talkin’ Sparrah less yer reminded yar still ave’ a debt ta’ pay”. The tentacles on Davy’s chin started to react when y/n came forward, she didn’t want any blood shed if it meant sparing the captains life. The story was all true, the legends and myths, the fact for the first few centuries, Davy saved a drowning child from a ship to gain humanity in his hope to see his beloved calypso once more. Y/n had witnessed over the years how cruel Davy can truly be, he tortured his crew, killed those that were innocent, spared no one that came across his ship. In times of darkness however, there were times in which Davy had shown a softer side but even then, it wasn’t one that y/n had witnessed. Y/n stepped forward, she had told no one about her true form. “I’m not going back Davy, you’re a cruel monster and I wish all the reigns of hell would fall upon you” y/n growled, over the years of hearing screams and pleads, she had enough of it.
In the eyes of Jones, those words that resonated from y/n’s mouth had hurt him the most. In a deep sense, she had no idea about the truth; Davy turned to y/n at first his gaze turned from heartbreak to anger, he swished his blade to order his men. “Kill them all lads!” Davy ordered, in response y/n shouted “No!” she begged for Davy to spare their lives. “Life is cruel” Davy laughed; Jack gripped his sword, he spun around escaping Jones’s grasp when he cut off some of Davy’s tentacles. Davy yowled in pain as he grabbed his sword, Sparrow and Davy fought on the main deck of the pearl. Jack had the upper hand as he swiped and swished at Jones’s sword, the two ended in a ‘clang’. Suddenly Jones’s gaze was caught in attention when he heard y/n scream, one of Jones’s crew had caught the girl. They nearly plundered their sword into her side, Davy’s eyes widened as he shouted “y/n!”. Y/n turned toward Davy as his features turned to a fearful look, However the crew member had his arm shot off by a pistol; y/n looked toward Gibbs who held the object in his hand “I assume yer know how ta’ fight lass”. Davy shouted out “Enough, Sparrah’ I ave’ decided ta’ wait til’ yer ready ta’ pay yer debt, in turn I’ll leave tha’ pearl” he turned ordering his crew to board the Dutchman.
Y/n was shocked, the expression Davy gave off seemed genuine, she watched as countless men from Davy’s crew boarded the Dutchman. With one last look Davy turned toward y/n as he boarded his vessel, with no words he ordered his crew to dive back down into the abyss of the sea.
Y/n stood up, she was grateful to at least be alive but to a cost, Davy left her alive once more but this time to walk on land.
A beacon toward his sea.
That's all I have for now:
Ta Ta ✨
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𝕁𝕒𝕔𝕜 𝕊𝕡𝕒𝕣𝕣𝕠𝕨'𝕤 ℝ𝕠𝕤𝕖 ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝟙𝟡
Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 | Chapter 15 | Chapter 16 | Chapter 17 | Chapter 18 | Chapter 19
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General POV.
Elizabeth stood on a dry piece of land in the cave looking at a few pieces of gold.
Jack however was throwing all kinds of treasure around looking for good pieces to bring.
Rose walked over to Elizabeth and gave her a tight hug.
'I'm so sorry for everything' Elizabeth said softly
'I'm the one giving you a death scare' Rose said smiling.
'I love you Elizabeth. you're my best friend. I would do it all over just for you' Rose said as she took Elizabeth in another tight hug.
'You know before we went off to the Black Pearl.
And you were already down in the dinghy. Your father came to the captain's quarters.
He sat in front of the door. Telling us how proud he is.
On me for trying to save you.
But he thought it was good of you to say yes to the proposal.'
'Of course he would say that' Elizabeth said softly smiling watching Will.
'But he also said that sometimes the most ideal decision, can be a really bad decision when made with bad reasons' Rose said softly while brushing a hair behind Elizabeth's ear.
'He loves you any how Lizzy..
Not only when you marry Norrington'
Rose wiped the tear of Elizabeth's face.
Rose saw Will coming.
'I'll leave you two alone.' Rose said softly and walked off towards Jack.
'Jack' Rose said as she walked up to him.
'Rose' Jack exclaimed having all kinds of gold around his neck. And walked over to her.
Rose gave him a slap in the face.
'Dying!? Really you gave me the biggest scare of my life!' Rose said tears in her eyes.
Jack snickerd.
'Love. I didn't enjoy seeing you die either' he smirked
Which made Rose smile back at him.
He brushed his fingers over her cheeks.
'I wouldn't mind tho. Being Immortal with you' Jack said a bit softer.
Rose smirked looking up to him. And before she knew it Jack had filled the gap between their lips again. His arm in this small of her back. He did stab her on accident with the gold chandelier he was holding. But that was soon forgotten.
Rose laid her arms around his neck and deepened the kiss with Jack.
'We should return to the Dauntless.' Elizabeth said softly towards Will.
'Your fiancé will be wanting to know you're safe. ' Will replied.
Elizabeth nodded softly and walked away towards the dinghy's
'Really Will!' Rose said behind him.
Her hands up.
'if you were waiting for the opportune moment' Jack said
'That was it' Rose and Jack said at the same time.
'Now, I'd be much obliged if you'd drop me off at my ship!' Jack said smiling at Rose.
Rose knew she couldn't go with Jack. But he told her to write to Tortuga and he would collect her letters.
When they were on the dinghy rowing towards the open sea.
The Black Pearl was nowhere to be found.
'I'm sorry Jack' Rose said softly laying a hand on his shoulder.
'They done what's right by them. Can't expect more than that.' Jack said laying his hand on mine.
When they were hovered above the Dauntless. Jack got cuffed and taken towards the brig.
'Do I really need to tell you that he is a new man now..' Rose said towards Norrington.
'He might be Rosemary.
But this time he already got wat he wanted and the only he now has in his future are the gallows. So he will try to escape.
And now I don't want to hear anything about it anymore okay?' Norrington said as he stormed off.
'Its okay love' Jack mouthed towards Rose. As they took him below deck.
Rosemary's POV
'And now you two' Norrington said towards me and Will
He looked over towards Will.
'I will be letting these charges go if. You will never ever will try to steal a ship from us again. And go off on your own. This is still Royal Navy duty. Not just the duty of an Black smith and a tailor.'
'Do we have an understanding' Norrington said towards us. With a small smile.
'Thankyou Commodore ' Will and I both said.
'Now out of my sight!' Norrington said and we went below deck.
I heard the guards planning the hanging of Jack right were Will and I both sat.
I looked at him with tears in my eyes. And he came closer to me and laid an arm around my shoulders.
'I think I have a plan' Will said softly
'Lets talk about it when we get back. Now go get some sleep and check on Elizabeth' Will said as she pushed me up.
'I'll check on Jack and thank him for everything. ' I nodded and smiled at Will.
I walked up to deck and walked over to the captain's quarters were Elizabeth sat on a dining chair.
'Oh Rose!
I'm so sorry.. I couldn't do anything for Jack.' I smiled at Elizabeth.
'You can't help it Liz.
But thank you ' I said genuine towards Elizabeth. and gave her a kiss on her cheek.
'Now please.. Lets do something about that hair. Cause It's a real mess.' I said giggling towards Elizabeth.
'I thought you'd never ask!' Elizabeth said
When back in Port Royal.
The normal life started again.
Will was busy making lots of new material cause lots had been damaged in the last fights.
And I was busy tailoring all the dresses for the hanging of Jack. It made my heart ache.
But I couldn't help it. I made a promise to Norrington.
For Elizabeth I made a new dress without a tight corset. But with an under burst corset. So That Elizabeth would be able to breath way more.
The dress I made for myself was way more handy.
It was an dark green color. It was a tight dress but the back was long and wavy. There was a ribbon on the back of it.
I made the fabric thinly sown together.
So that if I ripped at the bow hard enough it would rip the heavy skirt of the dress down leaving me with just the corset of the dress.
I made the dress a bit shorter then usual. Because I wouldn't be wearing heels but flat boots.
The hips of the dress were broad so I could actually hide my sword and gun in there around my waist.
I also made an outfit for Will. I made him an amazing hat with feathers. And a nice suit to wear to the hanging.
He thought it would be way to much. But It would be way easier to notice him in the scene of people and I could follow him towards Jack. 
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socksracoon10 · 2 months
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Pirate
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Pairing: Will Turner x F!Reader, Jack Sparrow x F!Reader (Platonic)
That imbecile had left you with Barbossa, and the thought of having to deal with his monkey's stupid chattering had nearly driven you to madness. Seizing any opportunity available, you had found yourself a small boat and began your search for Sparrow. You weren't expecting much from him, considering you were technically a part of his crew - the rest were with Barbossa. Not that it made any difference, though, because at the moment you were without a captain and unfortunately in the eyes of a few redcoats who eyed you, warily. They drew their rifles closer to themselves, marching over with some fire in their eyes.
"Oh, curse me," You muttered underneath your breath, throwing your hat into the water below, before carefully stepping onto a dock. Your foot dangled helplessly onto the boat, almost causing you to lose your balance. Gesturing for a soldier to come help you, you grabbed hold of his arm and hoisted yourself up onto the wooden platforms and sighed in relief, thanking them with false kindness.
"Enough, enough," One of them grumbled, rolling his eyes. He sneezed, the droplets of his mucus flying past you as you cringed at the sight. Despite being a pirate, you still had at least a little bit of hygiene left in you during your days as a "proper" lady. "What brings a girl like you to Port Royal, especially in that poor excuse of a boat?"
You followed the soldier's fingers to the vessel, noticing the way a few splinters poked out from the oars. It was a ghastly sight and a miracle that it had managed to take you this far without sinking. Shaking your head, you came up with the best excuse you could think of,
"I was robbed by a pirate. I was hoping at least one of you would show some mercy and help me find that treacherous man." 
"Was it Jack Sparrow?" Another soldier chimed in, his voice so delicate as he uttered the name.
"Precisely!" You whispered, excitedly as you wriggled your eyebrows, "Have you seen him lurking about here? I ought to give him a piece of mind!"
"Now, now, listen here, you don't have to do anything," The third soldier cried out with an exasperated sigh, "As misfortunate as your encounter with Sparrow must be, I implore you to go find yourself an inn for the time being." He had this air of haughtiness in his voice, one that made your frown deepen into a snarl. Biting the inside of your cheek, you pushed any emerging ill comments at him down to your boots and merely nodded your head in response.
Pushing past the soldiers, you trailed up the staircase to the cobbled streets of Port Royal and found a group of more soldiers running down the streets from The Governor's quarters. Frowning, your faintly heard the mention of Jack Sparrow among one of the redcoats that passed by you and you instantly figured out what was going on.
Crossing through an alley, you found a familiar set of beads dangling from an individual's head, hiding behind a wagon; he occasionally lifted his head to peer for any danger, unaware of your presence behind him.
"AHEM," You crossed your arms, glaring at him. Either he was ignoring you on purpose, or he was incredibly deaf and stupid. Rolling your eyes, you slapped the back of his head and watched him hurl into the wagon with a yelp of pain. He turned around on his heels, swiftly, narrowing his eyes for a moment to scan your face. Upon recognition, he grinned and held his hands up in the air,
"(Y/N)! Sweetheart, what are you doing here?" He exclaimed, holding onto your hands. You wriggled out of his grasps, before slapping him across his face, sharply.
"You moron! You left me aboard Barbossa's ship! After everything we've been through, I thought you were a brother to me! Family! You've decided to lurk about and be the prying little-"
"Whoa... now, love, we don't have much time to listen to your usual rants, do we?" Jack interjected your thoughts, raising a finger up. He swayed towards you, looking over your shoulder to ensure that there were no redcoats nearby. His eyes then glanced back towards you, "Listen, I think we should split ways and then meet up back at the docks. What do ya say?"
"I say no," You hiss, "I don't trust your words. We go together, or I'll throw you to the soldiers myself!"
"Darlin', you're a pirate too. You're only doing yourself a disservice here," Jack scoffed, and you clutched onto his collar,
"Try me. You cross me one more time, I won't care if you're my captain or like a brother to me, I shall drive my sword through your head and watch you scream for mercy." You threatened him, before shoving him off. Jack dusted his coat, creasing out the new wrinkles you caused with what he assumed was an indifferent expression on his face - he couldn't hide the slight fear your words caused him. 
As you extended your hand out for Jack to accept, the thunderous footsteps of the redcoats just around the corner caused you both to pick your feet up and run. Jack had hopped over among the roofs, and you had run inside a blacksmith's keep. Grabbing a sword from the sleeping blacksmith, you were set to head back out when you had noticed a shadow emerge from the other side of the door. 
"Oh, bollocks," You whisper, in a panicked tone, leaping behind a wooden table somewhere far enough for cover. You heard the footsteps of someone patter across the room, shifting through some equipment before they loudly whispered,
"Not where I left you..." 
Ah, so it was a man. And judging by the sound of his voice, he was pretty young. You peered, carefully, from the table and noticed his ponytail, and his well-fitted yet a bit dirty clothes. He wasn't bad-looking, surprisingly. He tapped his foot, impatiently, before drawing out his own sword and turned to your hiding spot. Sighing in defeat, you stood up from the cramped place and stretched your arms with a lazy yawn, stalking over to him.
"You're a pirate," He spat, his sword dragging up and down the air as he gestured at you.
"I'm also a lady. Now, this can go two ways. Either you let me go and I find myself back to Jack Sparrow, or I kill you... and find myself back to Jack Sparrow." You reasoned, forcing a smile at him as you made your way to the exit. Within seconds, you felt the tip of the blade against your chin, turning your head to face him. He had a deathly glare on his face but his eyes spoke of something else. Seeing that there was no way out of this without blood being shed, you raised an eyebrow,
"Come now, love, must there be hostility? Fine then, have it your way." You spat, before dragging your sword and jabbing it towards his stomach. He deflected my attack, and swung his sword around towards your neck. Dodging backwards, you lunged forward and elbowed his gut before parrying the thrust of his sword. He fell back for a moment, catching his breath as he shook his head,
"That's cheating." He breathed out between pants.
"Well, that's life, and now help a lady out and let her escape." You snickered, prying his fingers off his sword.
"Ah, but that's where you're mistaken... you're a pirate." The young man smirked, and the front door swung open with Jack at the hands of the redcoats, a sheepish look attached to his stupid face. Glancing back to the now standing young man, you found yourself handcuffed and dragged off with Jack besides you. 
William didn't fail to notice your menacing glare as you were taken away and he let out a proud smirk at the sight. And yet, something felt wrong. In all the years as a blacksmith's apprentice, nothing had excited him as much as this encounter had. He turned to the burning furnace, his thoughts fixated on seeing you.
For one more time, at least.
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imaginepirates · 1 year
Note
On the topic of a glorious age returning, what do YOU think the potc characters of your choosing would react to their s/o flashing their.. bare ankles?? Obviously they wouldn’t be able to flash their tits with those godforsaken corsets so I guess that their bare ankles would be the most efficient and provocative way to flash ppl for that time 😂 (Btw this is before they’re married maybe like courting or engaged?) Maybe they quickly turn away, try their best to pull the skirt back down, etc? -🦑
Jack – Obviously, Jack isn’t much shocked. He does, however, enjoy the display, and appreciates the effort. In fact, he encourages it. He teases about it, hoping that you’ll simply redouble your efforts. He’s pretty good at pretending he isn’t affected, but the implications of your actions excite him a little more than he’d like to admit. As a pirate, Jack isn’t bound by the same laws of propriety as other people, and he isn’t above indulging himself in you behind closed doors. Don’t be surprised when he wraps an arm around your waist and tells you how tempted he is to slide a hand up your skirt. Still, he’s playing the part of the flirt, and it may take you a while to see through the facade and figure out how much impact your actions truly have. 
Elizabeth – It surprises her a bit, that you would let her see you like that, but she finds it exciting. She’s the type to enjoy this sort of flirtation, viewing it like a secret game between the two of you to see who could get away with the most scandalous display. It’s an instant challenge. She’s going to pay you back as soon as she gets the opportunity, pulling up her skirt to fix the tie on her shoe or adjust a buckle. She makes sure to clock your reaction, too. She wants you to know that she’s equally interested, and that she’s willing to put in an equal effort. Behind closed doors, she’ll cave, stealing kisses and telling you just how pretty your little show was. 
Will – He’s flustered, to say the least. It has less to do with seeing your ankles and more to do with the idea that you’d flirt with him in the first place. Given the fact that Will grew up in poverty, he’s probably seen women's ankles before in taverns, so it isn’t something shocking to him. He’s much more surprised by your interest in him—he hasn’t really considered himself a person of much romantic potential, so he’s a bit perplexed by the effort you’re putting in. Even if you’re already engaged, he’s bashful about it, but views it as something more playful than seductive. He has a weapon of his own, though; he gets to roll up his sleeves in the forge or when he’s sword training and expose his forearms, so watch out. 
James – Let’s not lie: James is a little scandalized. It’s a true test of his self-control to not react, especially if this is in public. He’s a bit conflicted: on the one hand, he feels like it’s a part of you he shouldn’t be seeing; on the other hand, he’s flustered because he realizes that you want him to see you. He tries very hard to repress his thoughts concerning the matter, and is ashamed to have to admit to himself how distracted you can get him. He’s equally ashamed of his inability to face the awkwardness of bringing it up. He feels like he should ask you to stop, but in doing so, he doesn’t want to make you feel poorly. He also isn’t entirely sure he actually wants you to stop, and is mortified by that fact. If the two of you end up getting a little frisky when alone and you bring it up, expect him to flush bright red and bury his face in your neck with embarrassment, finally admitting in a hoarse whisper the affect you had on him. 
Beckett – He’s definitely smug. He’s more intrigued than shocked—he finds it interesting that you would choose to flirt with him in this way, but he isn’t going to discourage it. He’d never admit it, but it does have an effect. He’s curious to see exactly how far you’ll go to attempt a seduction. He wants to frustrate you a bit, see you try multiple tactics, test if you’re going to give up. If you persist, he’s honestly rather impressed, and he’ll make sure you know exactly how much he enjoyed your act; he’ll tease you and say that you really didn’t have to go so far, but since you were so insistent on being such a hussy, he wasn’t about to stop you.
Barbossa – Honestly, this has little effect beyond amusement. He can deal with seeing your ankles; he’s had his fair share of experience, and it doesn’t incite the same amount of arousal as it might have twenty years ago. Instead, his appreciation lies in the fact that you’re making your interest explicitly clear, and that you’re attracted enough to a man his age to actually stage a seduction. Like Jack, he doesn’t have to operate under the same rules of propriety on his ship, and can instead indulge a little. When the two of you are alone in his cabin, he’ll give you a wink and admit he liked the view. I think he leaves it up to you whether you want to take things further, or if you just enjoy flashing him for a bit of fun. 
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beemovieerotica · 10 months
Text
Teen Rating, No Warnings. A deleted scene that occurs prior to the parley scene in At World's End: how Davy Jones got into those buckets on the beach (lol), and a little interesting backdrop for historical resentment between Jones and Mercer.
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inkandpen22 · 2 years
Text
Chaotic as the Sea (7/?)
Pairing: Jack Sparrow x Female!Reader
Warning: Mild swearing
Word Count: 1.8k
Part Summary: As the Black Pearl travels to Tortuga, Y/N and Jack continue to argue about how to handle Blackbeard's aggression. Privately, they each try to cope with the problem in their own ways.
Masterlist
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Y/N
The Pearl rocks as the ship sails closer and closer to Tortuga. The warm breeze from the open ocean brushes my hair back like I'm riding on the clouds. At the bow, I sit with my eyes resting, listening to the waves as they crush against the sides. It's so tranquil up here, far from the action of the deck and the panic that radiates from all of the men currently. They fear Blackbeard and rightfully so, they would be dumb not to be afraid. Yet, I still grow frustrated with the position I'm in. They're willingly keeping me on board despite the danger and instead of being grateful for their sacrifice I wish they would be selfish. I wish they would desert me on some island, at least then I wouldn't feel so trapped. Run from Blackbeard so he doesn't make me his prisoner, but in exchange, I must be a prisoner on the Pearl... always running.
A vast ocean with no limits and yet I'm confined to one route... the route leading to Tortuga.
"I know you're there," I announce right as the floorboards creak behind me.
Jack begins to protest. "But-"
I snicker. "You're not exactly stealthy, Jack."
"Uh... What are you doing?" He questions.
"Trying to clear my head," I remark a matter-of-factly, considering he's interrupting my task.
"Are you..." He hesitates, shifting closer until I see his shadow hovering over me. "Did you have one of those dreams again about Blackbeard?"
"No, don't worry." My eyes flicker open slowly and are met with the sight of the shimmering horizon. "I think if I relax my mind then perhaps I can figure out what it all means."
"The dreams?" He presses, kneeling down beside me.
I turn my head to glance at his eyes. "All of it. I understand why Blackbeard wants me. He knows I can lead him to the Fountain of Youth. In order to access the Fountain, one needs the tear of a mermaid. What I'm saying is I don't understand why Blackbeard wants me or my powers so badly. There are others -- very few but others -- who know where the Fountain is, why go through the trouble of collecting me in particular?"
He reaches up and plays with the ends of my hair with a troubled expression. "I wish I knew..." He mutters as his eyes fall to the strands he holds.
A yawn escapes me. I attempt to fight it before Jack notices but to no avail.
"You should get some rest, Love. We'll arrive in Tortuga by tomorrow evening."
"I'm fine." I try to convince him with a confident shake of the head. "I have tea to help."
"But you haven't slept in days and-"
"I'm aware!" I snap.
Jack's features shift to an even more worrisome frown, only adding to my guilt.
"I'm sorry..." I mumble, placing my hand on his knee.
His eyebrows scrunch together as he wears a weak smile. "Don't be."
"I can't fall asleep when I'm afraid that I may never wake up or that I'll find myself in the middle of the ocean," I confess.
"If you sleep during the day I can keep an eye on you," he suggests as he's done many times since he saved me from falling overboard.
"No, no, you already have enough responsibilities," I reason. "A whole crew to look after. I won't add to them."
He cups my face and peers into my eyes sternly. "Taking care of you is my first priority."
I lean into his touch as my hand reaches up and covers his own. I feel a thousand times more at ease with Jack near and it makes me realize how truly exhausted I am. The warmth of his hand could put me to sleep for weeks.
"Oi, Captain!" Mr. Gibbs calls from the wheel urgently, causing both of us to look in his direction swiftly.
Jack and I look back at one another with a collective disappointment for the interruption.
"Love..." Jack sighs.
I offer him a weak but convincing smile. "It's truly alright, Mo Chuisle. I'm perfectly well. You'd know if I wasn't." (My Darling/My Pulse)
He stares into my eyes utterly torn about whether to stay with me or go perform his duties as Captain.
I lean in a plant a kiss on his cheek. "Go on, I'll be fine."
He gives me a sharp and reluctant nod before placing a quick peck on my forehead. He rises to his feet and marches off swiftly down the stairs to return to the wheel as though if he didn't act quickly he wouldn't have had the strength to go.
My attention returns to ahead of me, to the ocean. Miles and miles of open ocean, freedom, the whole world. Physically, I'm as free as anyone could wish to be. Mentally, I'm chained to Blackbeard without any hope of breaking out.
_______________________________
The next day...
"Land Ho!" Marty declares, eagerly pointing over starboard side.
The whole crew cheers and tries to catch a glimpse of the distant glimmering Tortuga. I, however, stick to my new favorite spot at the bow of the ship. I lean over the rail and watch Mr. Gibbs turns the boat toward the island more accurately.
The thumping of Barbosa's wooden leg echoes up the stairs until the older man towers beside me. "What's swirling around in that head of your's?"
"How much I hate Tortuga," I state plainly.
He chuckles loudly. "But is this not the place where you and Jack first confessed your undying love?"
I give him the side-eye, but can't help and smirk slightly. "That was many years go, Barbosa. I never took you as a romantic to remember such a thing."
"Less about my liking of romance and more of a fondness for the relief of you two no longer going at each other like dogs," he remarks.
I snicker, turning my attention back toward the horizon. "Yes, we did argue quite a lot, didn't we?"
"Understatement of the century," the pirate grumbles with a roll of his eyes.
I release a deep sigh and push off the rail. "I'm going to go get ready and we'll go to land. Jack made me promise to go together this time." I pat the man on the back as I pass behind him.
A soft smile etches itself on Barbosa's lips. "Wise choice."
Jack
"Marty!" I call sharply.
The man rushes to my side, panting from his trip here. "Yes, Cap?"
"You stay behind on the Pearl and wait for everyone to leave the vessel," I order. "When Miss Y/N goes with me, you shall go to my quarters and anything that you have suspect be magic-related you hide somewhere obscure on board, understood?"
"Yes, Sir." He nod swiftly, but after a moment of thought his brows scrunch together in confusion. "But... well... Sir?"
"What? Yes?" I rush him along.
"What if she... you know... retaliates?" He questions anxiously, clearly afraid of what Y/N can do.
"She's not Calypso or Davy Jones. She can't send the Kraken or a hurricane after you. Now, relax and follow my orders!" I command, waving the man away.
"Yes! Right, Sir!" He salutes me and scurries off.
I swear all of these men are more superstitious than me and I thought that impossible.
___________________
Later that night...
Y/N
It's been years since I've stepped foot in Tortuga and it's still the same. Though, what could I expect? It's not as if someone would clean this place. Drunk pirates, ladies of the night, and rum all over basically sums up Tortuga. If a nun or priest entered the island I think they would die from heart attacks. It's not exactly a sacred place. Well, depends on who you ask I suppose.
The crew files off the ship one by one and I follow suit as I did the last time we docked, except I'm allowed to roam about this time. Of course, under Jack's strict supervision, much to my annoyance. I feel like a child with how he coddles me sometimes.
As I wait for Jack, Will, and Barbosa to emerge from the ship, I wait beside Mr. Gibbs on the dock.
"I don't care if you all find yourself at the bottom of a barrel in the morning! Be here by eleven or we're leaving you to find a new crew!" Mr. Gibbs announces as all of the men shuffle off to go get drunk.
Some grumble, some ignore him, and then there's Pintel and Ragatti. Those two are constantly kissing someone's ass and make sure to give Mr. Gibbs a nervous smile or me a wink as they pass.
A little dog runs down the dock just a few feet away and I stroll over to say hello to it. It's scruffy and dirty, the same could be said for all of the men on this island. I kneel down in front of it and start scratching its ears.
"Well hello," I coo. "And who might you be?"
The little guy leans against my hand and releases a deep sigh. There's no tag of any sort or sign of ownership. Based on its state, it's most likely a stray. I may just have to adopt him myself.
"Cute isn't it?" A voice asks.
I glance up to see a man leaning against a post just a few steps ahead. "Absolutely!" I grin, giving the dog more rubs. "Is he yours?"
"Sadly not." He smirks and approaches. "How much?"
I snicker and rise to my feet. Instantly the dog continues on its way down the dock as if nothing happened. "Oh sorry, he isn't mine either. I'm sure if you tried to catch him-"
"I meant for you," the man interjects.
"Excuse me?" Then, my eyes widen as I process his meaning. I take a step back and he snatches my wrist with a gentle grip.
"You look awfully nice," he concludes as he eyes me up and down. "Are you new?"
A third hand enters the dynamic and shoves the stranger's hand off, freeing mine.
"Oi! Mate!" Jack warns, stepping between us and pointing his pistol directly at the stranger's forehead. "Keep your paws to yourself, savvy?" He smirks.
"Didn't see she already had a taker." The man raises his hands in surrender as he backs away slowly.
After a couple of seconds, Jack lowers his gun back to his belt and turns to me.
I huff. "What are you doing? One more pint and that fella would've been on his ass with his coins in my pocket."
He chuckles and rests his hands on my shoulders. "Now you truly sound like a pirate."
"I'll leave the piracy to you, thanks," I assure him as I wrap my arms around his torso.
He peers down at me with a pleased and satisfied grin as his fingers glide down my back. "So you'd fraternize with a pirate but refuse to call yourself one?"
"Ying and yang, black and white, light and dark. We're opposites, Jack, and one of us has to be the moral compass," I reason.
"That may be so, My Dear, but..." He leans in to whisper in my ear smugly. "Last time I checked, Miss Morals, when you held the compass it pointed to me." His face returns to my sight with his eyes narrowed. "When are you going to admit to yourself that you long for the freedom only our corrupt lifestyle can provide?"
"Never." I stand my ground sternly.
He smirks and leans down until our faces are hovering mere inches apart. His jet black eyes are full of certainty and admiration. "Pirate..." He accuses in a proud whisper before pressing his lips to mine softly.
My eyes fall shut and I relish the moment. I hate it when he does this. A part of me wants to break from him and defend my argument. The other, weaker yet louder, part of me gives in to his antics because he painfully knows exactly what buttons to push to make me toss all willpower aside.
Stupid, smug, and self-righteous pirate.
______________________________
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esta-elavaris · 5 months
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Flufftober Day 21: Swoon ~ James Norrington/OC [1,414 words]
My Flufftober '23 masterpost can be found here, and my behemoth of a main fic about these two is here 💜✨
Notes: So the storyline I’m building here is kind of referenced in the “Playing With Hair” Christmas fill, in which Theo expresses a bit of insecurity over not being the typical wife a man would seek in this time period. The "problem" (as she sees it) is shown from James’ POV here, and then we get the conclusion of it on the fill for day 30. It’s not exactly a high-stakes action-packed plotline or anything, but it’s just a continuing theme that’ll work best when you have all parts – so if things feel a bit vague or like there should be more here, it’s because there should, and there will be, on day thirty.
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Governor Swann insisted on granting them the use of his London home for the duration of their time in the south of England, and while James had been reluctant to agree – a reservation Theodora shared – for a grand townhouse brimming with servants hardly seemed to lend itself to the kind of privacy and solace they sought on this honeymoon of theirs, he could not pretend he was not happy for it when they arrived. Mostly because it meant large hot baths and lavish meals with delightfully little effort.
Of course, it also lended itself rather nicely to their goal. To schmooze London’s high society, acquire further backing and connections for Norne Maritime Protection, and – perhaps most importantly – to show those here that, whatever the rumours drifting out of the Caribbean, he and his wife were of the good sort, and simply could not have acted wrongly in what occurred, nor brought it down upon themselves in any way. The latter goal was rather the trickier one. And Theodora was anxious.
She hid it, of course, even from him. When he asked if she’d been in London before (or, well, after – technically), she murmured the affirmative, along with expressing doubts that she would be able to snag Lion King tickets this time round. James, by that point, confessed himself an expert on discerning when she joked from true levity, and when it came from discomfort, and he knew that to be the product of the latter. And who could blame her? Those gathered in Port Royal had not been particularly kind to her – writing her off as a feral creature, perhaps somewhat soft in the head, who possessed just enough beauty and feminine wiles both to somehow ensnare him along the way. They did not see that he was the lucky one in the equation because they simply did not want to see it.
But her arrival in London was somewhat smoother than the way she’d been catapulted into their lives in Port Royal, she was used to this time now…and they were a team. This would be different. He had faith in that, and in her. Always in her.  Not just because she was charming, but because she was clever. Before there was full transparency between the two of them, he’d sometimes been half-tempted to regret that cleverness. Usually for fear of her safety. But now? Now he was free to be thrilled by it at all times.
For she did know how to play a good game.
On the first night they were set to host, she came downstairs bedecked in a gown of soft light floral fabric, contrasting the darker, bolder colours she usually favoured. Her hair was bound up with only a few soft curls left about her neck, white porcelain flowers set amidst the deep red of her hair and a string of pearls about her throat. Beautiful, she looked – beautiful she always was – but not like herself. None here would look at her and guess she was playing role. None here could look at her and possibly think that any of the rumours surrounding her were true. He allowed that fact to ease his sadness at how she clearly thought she had to hide herself to make a good impression.
Save, perhaps, for when it came to the white glove on her right hand, hiding nails that had not yet properly grown back. She hid it where she could – betwixt her skirts, behind her back, beneath anything she held – and when she was asked about it, she grumbled something about looking like Michael Jackson. Given that James had never heard of such a fellow, he could neither support nor reject her conclusion. But he wished he could ease her nerves.
James himself did not consider him adept at people-ing, as Theodora had once referred to it with great distaste. Oftentimes he was perceived as too serious, too dour, too unable to loosen up and give into revelry. He’d just been rather lucky in that all of those things were fine for a man and a soldier to be. But a hysterical once-tortured woman who was either a witch, mad, or both? Those were heavier burdens to bear for his wife. Judging by the pale cast of her face as they waited to make their first impressions on potential backers, she was keenly aware of that.
So James said the only thing he could think to – lowering his head as he heard the butler let the first of the guests in and murmuring to her.
“Ireland, after this.”
And it gladdened him to see that it cheered her.
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When all had arrived, James was certain none would be able to guess at the doubt and trepidation that had shown on his wife’s face just before they’d walked in – at which time she’d straightened, offered one of those brilliantly warm grins of hers, and greeted them as though they were old friends.
She was not quite herself – more subdued even down to her accent – but none were at social events such as these, James himself included. And she was candid, warm, and lovely. That was all Theodora. He soon found that whenever he looked to her to see how she was faring, he had difficulty looking away. Even those who had arrived with a blatant nose to find gossip would share looks with one another as though surprised to find her qualities so abundant.
It had been difficult not to smile his pride at that. To know that not only did others finally see his wife as he did – others who were not pirates, at least – and to see that he had somehow managed to win the hand of such a woman. He couldn’t help but think of all the many times his wife had set those piercing eyes of hers upon him before proclaiming herself very lucky, laughing at the thought that she truly had no idea that he was the lucky one.
The door closed behind the last of the guests, Theodora’s shoulders dropped and she sighed her relief. James’ hand found the small of her back, entirely sharing in the sentiment she’d so silently expressed.
“Nightcap?” she turned a tired smile in his direction, leading him back to the drawing room.
James was not content to allow her to brush off her victory so readily.
“You’re a force of nature, do you know that?” he asked as she poured them a drink each.
“Oh, har-har,” she snorted fondly.
“Lady Montague made no less than three further appointments to see you while we remain in London,” he pointed out, pulling her to sit with him once their glasses were in hand.
“She was kind. And her husband liked you.”
“They liked you. They liked us. They’re backing us, Lord Montague as good as said so tonight - already. In part because of my very charming wife.”
Her eyes lit up at the first part, but at the second she rolled her eyes – albeit kindly – steadfastly refusing to believe that she might be greeted with anything other than scorn in “polite” society. It was a defence strategy, he knew that, so she mightn’t care when people – when fools – did dislike her. But it grieved him to see it warping her perception so.
“We found the one crowd in London who find the Irish foundling thing to be a cute novelty rather than an omen of doom, then?”
“Do not discount your victory here, Theodora.”
“Is that an order, husband?”
“On this occasion, I’m afraid it is,” he teased. “I will not hear it. You were magnificent tonight. I very nearly swooned to witness it.”
Another eye roll – but accompanied by a blush. And James was fine with that. He was patient, and he knew their victories would only increase from here. She’d see his point before long. He’d make sure of it.
And until then, he’d marvel at his wife enough for the both of them.
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Links: AO3 -- FF.net -- flufftober masterpost -- dividers by cafekitsune
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