#filthy pirate

[vikingmagic33]

@beaumaismortel I don’t deserve you, but I love you just the same.

You just motivated me to work on my edits to the next chapter! Moonlit cove… a little rum perhaps?! Tension anyone?

Get caught up on AO3

Tags for my feral friends, but don’t forget… a little slow burn never killed anyone. 😎

@trashforazriel @mmiscbutterflies @sunshinebingo @captain-of-the-gwynriel-ship @headcanonheadcase

[killmebutneverinsultme]

@compassofsouls continued from here:

The measured, almost inhumanly slow, breaths Nathaniel had been taking changed the instant Jack touched him. Pupils, blown so much so that the yellow of his eyes seemed more akin to the corona of an eclipse, stared unblinkingly as though to preserve the sight. He uttered a gruff laugh.

“Captain, now, aren’t you? Suppose you’re the one giving orders…ffffuck, that’s it-”

Nate’s grip in Jack’s hair tightened, feeling himself twitch in the man’s mouth. Fuck. Breaths hissed out to force a rough growl: any less, and he might have whined. He’d not let the pirate know he had lost so much experience; not been touched since his return to the land of the living, let alone thought anyone would.

“Mmmh…But that’s not always your preference, is it, Jack? Someone has to keep you accountable…”

Jack's cheeks flushed at Nate's taunting. He dared to trace the slightest brush of his teeth over the next draw in the hope of impressing upon his on/off ally that whilst, yes, it very much was a penchant of his to be bossed about in the sheets, him kneeling before a man was a very special privilege indeed.

His hands curled around the backs of Nate's thighs and squeezed before he began to suck harder and with more romance than the man might have imagined was in Sparrow's head. With any luck, he might win control if he could reduce Nate to a gibbering mess. Jack wasn't the best at this particular move, but he had flair and enthusiasm, and perhaps it would be good enough for a lonely grim.

[thefandomeffect-noah]

I realized that I never posted the full finished cosplay (ADHD moment) so here’s some pics I got at pride last month of me in the completed Fang cosplay!! (Taken by the lovely @megaawkwardhuman.)

[anathemafiction]

I love how the game specifies Romanus is most often sweaty, if not downright filthy, yet all of the ROs are still 😍 over them. No wonder Alessa, Hadrian, and the twins all made moves after seeing them after a bath, LOL.

Who can resist the battered, bloody and sweaty look? The look that has you almost falling apart? Personally, I think there are few things as sexy as a man or a woman about to pass out in a pool of their own blood.

No, but in all seriousness 😄 To be fair to our poor Romanus, Hadrian and Alessa were pretty filthy themselves before arriving at the Leaping Lion. The road isn't kind of anyone, but even less so when you're pushing hard for time — because you're following Rafael's footsteps.

The trio of you looked like a mess when you got to the city's gates. It's one of the reasons why Knight-Commander Lorn gave you such a hard time and Vaughn was about ready to deny you entrance xD And, to Hadrian and Alessa's eyes, you couldn't have looked better. Sure, the bath helped polish you a little, and it certainly improved your overall smell, but…

Hadrian could see you covered in mud, and still thank the heavens he got to meet you. And Alessa cares not for grime and dirt, not when you smile at her so, and her stomach clenches, and she wonders when it was she has lost her mind.

Would Alain and Ysabella react the same way had you not taken a bath? Who knows. Who knows what the nobles might think when they see the realities of a mercenary's life?

[calciumcryptid]

Nolan Stormgate: You go battle Trolls and I'll handle the Warhorns.

Me, the brainrot intense: Right, you don't want me to see you pull out a melee weapon. It alright.

[ofdarklands]

i always forget this guys must be loaded as all fuck

[dyrewrites]

Before Deluca -- not what he wants

We took the meals into our quarters, and setting them up against the desk as casually as luggage left me curious how long the effects of our bite would last.

“Long enough, treasure,” Lucient purred, pawing at my shirt, angling for the heat beneath, “for us to take our time…”

“Hungry, my dream,” I reminded, aware of how desperate I would grow—ravenous and violent. Smiling at that eager glint in his eyes, I couldn’t help the gasp at his chill on my stomach, but he peeled off, pouting as he turned.

The Captain he grabbed first, beside him in a blink he slapped the man’s hat off and lifted him so easily by hair alone. Sputtering and groaning, the Captain could do nothing against Lucient’s grip, but he tried. With wild arms that jerked uselessly at his sides, he tried.

And Lucient laughed before tilting his head towards me, moonlight eyes so bright as he offered me his hand, “Share with me, mon amour?”

“Of course, amore mio,” I returned, accepting his hand as I grabbed the Captain’s coat with my other, helping hold him up. All but glistening with sweat and sea spray, the man’s neck and collarbone were exposed by the thin shirt he wore, attracting my eyes in a manner that forced the fingers in mine tighter.

“I do hope that is hunger in your eyes, treasure,” Lucient warned.

I smiled and though I was starving, and entirely uninterested in the amateur pirate in my grip, I teased, “And if it’s more, my love?”

“Mm, naughty,” he scolded, but he said nothing more, lips occupied with the taste of the neck that captivated me.

Following his lead, I nudged beyond the heavy fabric of the Captain’s coat and dug my teeth into the soft flesh between neck and shoulder. And after so long with fish to stave off but never sate, that blood burst too hot and sweet on my tongue. Its flavor salt-sweet but unremarkable, it yet cooled my ever-burning heat and soothed the puckering ache in my veins. More than the meal, however, was the soft moaning that undercut my own. From the Captain, enraptured by the touch of our fangs, but more from Lucient. He sunk into our first true meal after what we would learn had been months at sea and I sunk into his enjoyment over my own.

Satisfied, my love, I asked his sweet sounds, growing louder the harder he drew.

His fingers tightened again on my own as he answered, Not yet…

Sharing as we were, the Captain wouldn’t be enough to truly sate, even as spasms took his muscles and the last gasps of life choked from his throat. Delicious though he’d been, he was an appetizer. With his blood pounding in us our hunger growled still, begged still, demanding more. And we fed it, dropped what remained of the Captain to pounce on his second.

I picked that one up, so much larger than the Captain—too tall for Lucient to lift high enough—and sat him on the desk. Groggy that one, waking from the near-narcotic touch of our teeth. He tried to run, screaming in his unknown language, and while Lucient stared at him as one might a decadent treat, I slid between the man's legs, pinning his thighs to the desk.

That snapped Lucient from his gaze, forcing hard eyes on me, accompanied by a harder tone, “Teasing again, treasure?”

“Always, my love,” I said, absently, unable to think of more in my want of the pulse before me.

Never looking from the second’s eyes—soft brown they were, wide and terrified in the shine of my own—I released a single hand from his thighs and offered it to Lucient, smiling as he climbed the desk and sat behind the man I’d trapped.

We held each other around him, pinning him still—between us—and he gasped with the closeness...but he didn’t scream. Nor did he try to escape. In fact, when I leaned in for his neck, he made to meet me with his lips.

I had no intention of accepting, of course, but Lucient reacted all the same; grabbing the man by his hair and yanking his head back.

“He’s mine,” he almost growled, biting into that pulsing vein just below the ear.

Chuckling at the outburst, the sight of it, I went for what he exposed so beautifully—the throat.

And that blood was nothing so mundane as the Captain’s had been. It oozed rich and heady, hotter yet cooling the further it dripped. Tart, he was, salt-sweet as all others but that tart aftertaste carried something that made his dying spasms—coming quickly with Lucient’s jealous teeth in his neck—too delicious not to hold him through.

He lusted for you, treasure, Lucient teased my thoughts, pressing ever-closer against the cooling body between us, squeezing the last of that blood onto our tongues.

I was lost to the sensation of it, as well as the confusion. I’d been overwhelmed by what others felt, grew drunk from drink they filled themselves with, even experienced the euphoric simplicity of being a shark...but attraction? Lust one felt so briefly...for me? That was new.

And Lucient enjoyed it far too much. Shoving the body to the floor, beside the other—forcing me back to allow it—he remained on the desk, lids low and smile sharp as he scolded me, “Chose coquine, tempting our food in such a way…”

“How did I tempt?” I shot back, fighting against the warm pulse growing in me, begging to grab him, slip what little he wore off and trace all of him with my tongue.

“Come,” He demanded, waving me to the desk, “pin me as you did him, treasure and see how you teased, how this eager blood is your doing.”

Scoffing, I did as instructed, slipping between Lucient’s knees and gripping his thighs as tight as I had the other man.

He gasped with that grip, smiling at me, cooing, “My naughty treasure, grabbing another so sweetly.”

I hadn’t meant it, but it would have been pointless to explain—and he was in my head anyway—so I played into it instead, “And what will my dream do about it?”

“Mm,” bottom lip firm in his teeth, he leaned to whisper in my ear, “nothing.”

Chuckling, he hopped off the desk and sauntered out on deck, leaving me alone, far too heated—with the corpses we’d made. His reaction wasn't what I expected and, with all that lustful blood pumping through me, it wasn't what I wanted. But he'd drank it too, surely he felt the same.

So I caught up and tested, “My love, aren't you upset?”

I was against the cabin wall before I could take another breath, pinned by those strong, slender hands on my shoulders.

“I’m furious,” He admitted, voice too sweet for the sharpness of it, lips not close enough before he kissed my neck and breathed so softly, “but that's what you want, isn't, treasure?” He wouldn't let me answer, drawing a gasp with teeth in my ear, and his body so tight against mine, “you want me riled, want me jealous—aching,” then he shoved away from me and his voice dropped, “so you get nothing.”

His smile never fading, he spun and continued to the waking crew, leaving me stunned—and grateful for the thickness of the drawing case stuffed in my breeches as I followed him.

[mechanical-jewel]

THEN HE’LL NEED SOMEONE TO PUSH HIS GUTS BACK IN AMIRITE??

[stupiidgood]

Are You Shawn’s Type - NS.FW edition. new bingo card; i can’t fit the text on the original template

[leche-flandom]

Outside of Austen stuff, I am not a fan of historical dramas in general. And the gritty violent ones more focused on war and politics aren't my usual cup of tea either. So am I going to try to watch "The Winter King" just in case there are FitzSimmons time travel fics based on Iain De Caestecker's new tv series?

Yes.

[vikingmagic33]

we are truly blessed with an update but NOOOO ONLY ONE CHAPTER LEFT 😭 i have enjoyed this fic so immensely and could truly read it forever. would you consider a sequel? 💕

Ok. Wow! I’m going to sit down to respond to this fully. First, thank you for reading and taking the time to send some love. This little fic has slowly taken over my brain. Second, I would, will, am considering a sequel, but I do have a few non-pirate HCs that I need to clear out first.

What would you like to read more about? Another couple or should I send Gwyn and Az on a little adventure? Perhaps a bit of both?

The outline has a short epilogue that was initially an additional chapter, but I decided it didn't have enough substance for a whole chapter. Just a few scenes back in Port Alice.

Thanks again for sticking with me and for reaching out. It means the world.

@beaumaismortel perhaps an original work is in the works??

[killmebutneverinsultme]

@norringtxn continued from here:

Parted lips released a quiet gasp as Jack paid no heed to his words of warning and continued on. The feeling of a wet tongue where he had never felt a wet tongue before had him shiver with delicious anticipation.

Forgotten was the report he was meant to be writing and discarded was his quill, suddenly not caring in the least if ink fell from its tip to stain the surface of his desk.

His eyes were glued to the pirate between his legs, stomach fluttering with a range of feelings so wide he did not know where to begin to unravel them. So, he didn’t.

Instead, James let a hand rest against Jack’s head. His palm met the roughness of his matted hair and the surprisingly silky feeling of his bandana.

“A-Alright, then. I’ll do my best to be silent.”

The trademark gold-capped grin sparkled in the shadows beneath the desk.

"Good man."

One hand curling over the commodore's knee, Jack used the other to guide James' shaft into his mouth, employing his most affectionate and devilish techniques. He focused to task but allowed himself to note the feeling of James' hand. Perhaps there it would stay, an assurance, or means to stop him. Perhaps grip would tighten and Norrington would turn cruel. Right now it was all worth the risk.

Smiling more in his mind than he could around his prize, Jack listened to James' efforts to keep quiet.

[medievill]

historically speaking, it is much more likely that Ed introduced Stede to the idea of bathing regularly, but you do you I guess

[clown-baby]

when ur sorting books and have to create separate piles for england, magic, and the history of pirates

[erratic-reads]

Hi all, I wrote my first ever fanfic and it was so much fun! It’s a pretty quick read and I would love any support of comments. 

Chapters: 3/3 Fandom: Our Flag Means Death (TV), ofmd - Fandom Relationships: Blackbeard | Edward Teach/Stede Bonnet

Summary:

Ed is haunted by what he's done to the crew and is letting Izzy guide his way (like an idiot). Stede is with the (very much alive) crew trying to find his way back, following the wreckage that Blackbeard leaves behind. Reunions and knife fights. Hurt and comfort - the whole shebang.

[corpsebunniie]

look at my idiots :) Jupiter the privateer admiring her boss from afar, Daybreak bullying the Golden Bear Guild, He’s very babygirl, very mean.