the-empires-blog

[the-empires-blog]

indie   ,   highly sel   ,   multimuse blog from the GEORGIAN ERA ft. a cast of muses from   HORNBLOWER   ,    MASTER AND COMMANDER   ,   and a whole shipload of ORIGINAL CHARACTERS.   loving penned by kara   ( formerly the-empires )

[the-empires-blog]

honestly might just revamp the entire fuckin bitch !

hi everybody !!! sorry for the impromptu hiatus. i lost a lot of inspo for my muses and uhhhh i got really sad. i might add an oc to this blog just to kick start this bitch or whatever. but hi i’m here (,:

[the-empires-blog]

hi everybody !!! sorry for the impromptu hiatus. i lost a lot of inspo for my muses and uhhhh i got really sad. i might add an oc to this blog just to kick start this bitch or whatever. but hi i’m here (,:

[the-empires-blog]

@oceanfoamed cont. 

Theodore would never deny how deeply it pleased him when Bram would shuck aside his nerves and initiate matters, for he always had such sweet ways of beginning what could at times become rather rigorous exercises in passion. Other times, these little displays were nothing more than placating actions, and Theodore was only too glad to allow himself to be manipulated into calm so that Bram could be frustrated and sharp without fear of repercussions later in the day.

( In truth, Theodore had a feeling Bram didn’t even know he was manipulating matters when he did so - it just came and went, his bad moods and his good ones, with no true recollection of having used a good mood to garner smooth sailing through a terrible one )

All of this culminated into reasons why Theodore adored Bram so deeply - they shared in something that was intimately their own, but the men the world had made them to be were not compromised because of it. His lover was still every bit the incomparable, collected lord of Edrington, a man of impeccable standing in society and respectable ( if at times questionable and terrible ) military advantage.

He could be cold - astonishingly aloof in a world so passionate in it’s whipping around him - and he could be unyielding and devastating in turns. There was a thread of steel in his spine that Theodore adored, even when it could at times turn itself upon him as the weight of the world settled too heavily upon familiar shoulders.

By contrast, Theodore was as warm and malleable as ever to the fates he found himself facing. He challenged convention at every turn, and faced battle with the economic mind of a man who would see it finished not for glory, but for the interest of the adventure after it. He lived a life that lacked regret, and it made him stand out among his companions in ways that were not always complimentary.

Perhaps it was a touch of Theodore rubbing off on Bram in these moments, when the whole world seemed to grow still and all that mattered was the joy they shared together. Just as, sometimes, Theodore thought a little of Bram had rubbed off on him when he found himself directing something with more grace than usual.

Either way it mattered little to Theodore as he hauled Bram up in answer, setting him on his desk almost primly, and answered his gentle start with an unquestioning passion. They had all the time in the world, and he fully intended to utilize it as he anchored himself at his lover’s hips and began to kiss his neck with unbridled adoration.

Bram huffs, supposedly a laugh, but doesn’t quite bring his lips to form around it. Here? He wants to say, but the word never makes its mark. A scalding blush blooming like a Pride of Barbados flowers upon his chest cut him off as legs spread to better accommodate his lover pressing close. 

Their time together is always so fleeting, there is little place for chastity or coyness. It’s a silly thought, Bram has realised in the ruminations of afternoon tea -- if God had intended for them to be more akin to rabbits, He would’ve made them so. But there is great joy to be had in instant gratification. At times, he thinks it will only make their departure from one another more bitter, but the discontent of being separated is as constant as the tides. 

Edrington wraps an arm around the small of Theodore’s back, letting his other hand prop him up on the desk. He has to brush a few stray papers aside. It’s nothing short of wanton, filth, nothing but utter depravity to be doing this here, atop gold - lettered correspondences and curtly - penned reports and what have you. Some part of him that has been brushed aside by impatiant arousal protests profusely. The most Bram can do to quell it is to sweep the papers off the desk and floating to the floor. 

He has mastered the art of holding on, of holding fast, of defending and of digging his heels into the very stone foundations of England. But he has also learned that there is an art of letting go and surrendering to himself and his wants, his pleasures. 

A rather lewd sigh escapes Bram’s lips, and a reactionary worry resounds through him. Surely, surely, his staff must be aware of their unorthodox relationship by now. Surely they’ve noticed the unusual amount of touching that goes on between the two of them, or the fact that all of the guest rooms go unused, or the sorry state of the master bed. Edrington trusts them enough to keep his secret, though. He’s kinder to them than many other servants could say, and his family is of fine repute. And even if they chose to inform the authorities, who, in all of Britain, would think Lord Edrington is a homosexualist? It’s an absurd thought, indeed. 

“Cheeky,” Bram moans at the dizzying ministrations of Theodore’s lips upon his neck. The hand holding him upright leaves its post to loosen and unravel the cravat at his neck, a non - verbal plea for the man to continue. 

[the-empires-blog]

The fire crackling in the hearth of the withdrawing room held Bram’s distant interest as he mused to himself. Five months had passed since the revered sea officer’s disappearance -- and not a witness nor accessory nor behaviour of discontent could account for his whereabouts. The major had a strong opinion of Hornblower; he thought the seaman was eccentric and untoward and playfully insubordinate, but cowardly was not and never one of them. Of all the men he would think would desert, Hornblower was the very last. 

Desertion was a weak explanation, however. If he wanted to leave the Navy and it’s clutches ( an ambitious task, indeed ), there would be no reason for him to return. Wherever Hornblower had run off to was, no doubt, a better option than returning to be executed as a traitor. Bram did not think Mister Hornblower was a fool, either. 

No, there was something quite strange afoot.

He leaned back on the tufted back of the chaise, letting his winding thoughts burn in the fire as he awaited Mister Hornblower. The maid set a silver tray down on the wooden accent table and glanced to the master of the house, opening her mouth as if to ask how he wanted his tea. He cut her off, dismissing her politely. When she did not react how he intended, Bram clarified and thanked her for her work and told her to go home early. She blinked with surprise and a smile, leaving the drawing room quickly. 

He took the teapot, white porcelain with flowering forget - me - nots crawling from the handle to the spout, and poured himself a cup of tea. The ceylon leaves gave the hot water the hue of an Indian summer, golden, nearly amber in its strong hue. Bram dropped a perfectly shaped cube of sugar in the teacup just as Hornblower entered, looking every bit the gentleman he had been. 

Bram waved away Hornblower’s gratitude with the silver teaspoon. 

A wistful smile grew on his face as the man went on. Where the Devil has he been?! It’s a question he’s sure he’s not the first to wonder and is confident he will not be the last to think it, if he knows anything about Hornblower. “It’s so very queer, Mister Hornblower,” he said after taking a sip of tea with an air of well - refined insouciance. “One of the Navy’s finest young officers vanishes without a trace, leaving us to believe you simple fell of the end of the world . . . or deserted. Neither can be so, though. I have always taken you for a man above such childish acts of cowardice and treason. I am eager to learn the truth, if you will tell it.” His eyes narrowed as he scrutinised the man, who, even after a thorough bath and donning expensive clothes, still possessed an air of wildness about him. “Would you care for some tea?”

The Ghost They Whispered Of

[the-empires-blog]

❌❌❌❌| These are for Pavel - Mani is sleeping but I am sure she will appreciate the answer BD

send a thingy 4 a kink but really they’re just nsfw headcanons but i don’t care !

@seafaired

he’s the most dominant dom to ever dom. sometimes it’s strange for him to be so demanding and assertive, but the role comes naturally to him despite his doubts

this is pretty kinky but pavel’s into people not asking about his scar kajdfks 

he really enjoys giving aftercare. it’s not at all something that he has to force himself to do but he likes the process of coming down from a high together and giving cuddles and seeing to his partner’s well - being

pavel’s big on possession - and not the paranormal kind. he likes hearing his partner say that they belong to him and he like reminding them of that fact and leaving very, very conspicuous marks on them

[the-empires-blog]

❌❌❌❌| As much as Theo would like to send enough to fill up the entire ask box, I have to impose a limit somewhere!

a ❌ for a kink that my muse has

he loves being called “my lord” in bed okay

bram is ,,,,,,, the farthest thing from dominant and, ashamedly so, enjoys being told what to do

big fan of being banged naked while his partner is clothed

loves being fingered more than the average so and so

bonus because i love theo !

     - it’s really obscure, but hands holding or resting on his hips really do wonders for him. whether it’s a hug from behind or just laying them on his hips while he’s straddling theo or even a light hand there while they’re kissing makes him melt

[the-empires-blog]

For each ❌ I receive, my muse will reveal one of their kinks.

[the-empires-blog]

About the mun

tagged by: @oceanfoamed

In general:

Real name: sanem al - mina

Nicknames: kara

Age: 19

Sexuality: i’m a mess

Prefered pronouns: she / her

Are you a morning person?: nah but i prefer the morning to the afternoon

When swimming, do you prefer to do it in the ocean, or in a lake?:  ocean !!!

On Tumblr:

Anyone you would like to meet in real life?: all of my partners tbh ???

Anyone you have met in real life?: nah

When did you first join? How old is your current account?: i’ve been roleplaying on tumblr for a few years now but this blog has been around for seven or eight months now

Any peeves?: drama

Unpopular opinion: the whole “aesthetic roleplaying” movement thing is ridiculous and has kept so many talented writers from writing /:

Feelings:

Do you easily get jealous?: yeah

Do you easily get angry?: not really

Are you easy to cheer up?: i’d say (:

What’s the most hurtful thing someone could do to you?: replace me

What’s the most hurtful thing someone has done to you?: replaced me

Are you good at hiding your emotions?: no kjkandnnjakld

What’s the very best way to cheer you up?:  just let me know that you’re there for me and listen to me yknow

Relationships:

Are you currently in a relationship?: yeah

Do you currently have a crush on someone?:  my girlfriend ?

If yes, might that someone be reading this?: probably not

Do you kiss on the first date?: if i feel comfortable and the other person feels comfortable i guess. 

Do you prefer going out, or staying home, when it comes to dates?: going out. i love going out

Things:

Favorite drink: ceylon tea iced or hot also daiquiris

Favorite food:  any sort of pasta or carb

Most calming place?: sitting on my patio while the wind picks up before a monsoon

Most stressful place?: driving home with a haboob behind me

Most priced possession?: my cello

Tag five people (if you want to):

✗ anyone that wants to !!! i’m too aklakldglkajd to tag folks !

[the-empires-blog]

As penned by Holmes, this account is a private and exclusive roleplaying multimuse dedicated solely to the Age of Sail and the fandoms that fall within her umbrella.

                 Articles of War | Post Orders | Crew | Dockyard | Navigational Charts

Template Credit! [x]

[the-empires-blog]

“Don’t get up, you’ll make it worse.” [ for philadelphia! jazzhands ]

Injured / bleeding starters

Philadelphia had woken with a starter and fell promptly back as her head protested in throbbing vertigo. The constant rock of the wood around her didn’t help a bit, nor the briny stink of the hot room. Feebly, she recoiled from the gruff man, pressing into the cot on the floor. Whatever concern she had for her safety diminished somewhat, as she realised that if the man wished her dead, he would not have wasted his time caring for her. But then again, perhaps she was being held for ransom or sold into slavery or forced into a life of piracy, for surely, the man must be a pirate - he certainly looked the part. 

She put her worry aside reluctantly. It was time to figure out - “What happened?” Philadelphia groaned, face screwed up in ache. Her hand went to rest at her forehead and she started as she felt linen wrapping her skull. Oh. “Oh!” She exclaimed. 

“The tavern and the fight and the American with three fingers and the pirates and … and that fucking iron grate. I must’ve fallen into the water or summat.” Abhorrent language for a noblewoman, but certainly her current state allotted for a bit of swearing. “Judas.” Philadelphia winced at the scolding waiting for her at the Estate when word of her actions ( and their consequences ) got back to her father. “I fear I have found the boundary of a father’s love; it shares the boundary of what might push a man to murder his blood, funny enough.”

[the-empires-blog]

me: add davy jones 2 ur muse list

me @ me:

[the-empires-blog]

           AND WE’D BE ALRIGHT   /   IF THE WIND WAS IN OUR SAILS

indie  &  selective  &  private  HISTORICAL  / AGE OF SAIL based MULTIMUSE. As written and adored by mani  &  established on 1/1/2018. Featuring muses from HORNBLOWER, MASTER AND COMMANDER, PIRATES OF THE CARIBBEAN as well as various ORIGINAL CHARACTERS all set in the same time period.  template credit  ( x ) 

[the-empires-blog]

Calculating the value of things between the periods and the present just got a whole lot easier. Though in retrospect it is somewhat alarming, it does provide a good basis for what counts for affluence in the times. 

[the-empires-blog]

Bram hummed in nostalgic delight. How could he ever forget? Jamaica was a strange world of massive leaves painted with a humid wax and flowers as big as a hound. A fine mist would rain down every afternoon, giving a temporary respite to the sweltering heat that beat down on the shimmering sands and dark jungles. Strange feelings in a strange world. 

He had left his heart behind there on the static beaches, and, once back in his mother country, the loss was well felt. For a long while, Bram told himself his despair was for Jamaica, for the stark difference from the grey, English landscape. But who was he fooling? Colour could never make him feel that way, no. The despair was for Theodore Groves. 

His hands ran from Theodore’s shoulders down across the expanse of his chest. Bram could feel his heartbeat below his palms. “Colour suits you, darling.”

Smiles Of Winter

[the-empires-blog]

a concept:

philadelphia edrington in drag, sitting on a sofa with her arms resting across the headboard and one leg carelessly crossed over the other, locks of amber resting on her starched waistcoat, exuding recklessness and sexual ambiguity, knowing she has more money than she could ever know what to do with and a great disdain for the dreary lifestyle of her high social class. 

[the-empires-blog]

Injured/Bleeding Sentence Starters

“That’s a lot of blood…” 

“That’s not good…” 

“I think that’s more than a little cut.”

“You’re looking rather pale.”

“You’re bleeding!”

“That doesn’t look good…” 

“I don’t think that’s suppose to come out.” 

“That’s a bit of an interesting angle for that to go at.” 

“How do I get it to stop?!” 

“How are you still standing?!”

“Don’t get up, you’ll make it worse.” 

“What happened to you?”

“I can’t feel my fingers anymore…” 

“Everything hurts.” 

“Is everything supposed to go dark?”

“Ow, yeah, okay, that’s starting to hurt.” 

“It’s just a cut.” 

“I’ve had worse.” 

“You’re bleeding all over my floor!” 

“You better not die on me.” 

“They got a lucky shot…” 

“Next time don’t call me to come over only to find you in a pool of your own blood!” 

“You need to keep pressure on it.” 

“Don’t move!” 

“That looks nasty.” 

“Am I dying?” 

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