#potc imagine

[hannaswritingblog]

Imagine: Jack Sparrow and James Norrington getting jealous of you

Fandom: Pirates of the Caribbean

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A solemn expression crosses his face before he says:

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

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

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

"Of course."

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

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

"Jack!"

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

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

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

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

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

"Yes. I believe it is."

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

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

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

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

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

[whirlybirbs]

100% support the slutty norrington one off <3

WINE-EYED  ;  j.n.

summary: you loved him once. set during potc:dmc.

pairing: james norrington x f!reader

tags: unrequited love, angst, comfort, a dash of injury and worry, flashbacks to port royal & powdered wigs, a nice dock makeout scene

a/n: bro idk. bro IDK. had some pirate thoughts and then this 3.6k mess happened.

"You always did love her."

Those words, raw and cold from your lips, feel like salt in a wound — as stinging as the sea whipping James Norrington’s sun-split cheeks. The warmth of the setting sun does little to melt your icy disposition, and the ex-Commodore’s well-stoked and unbridled self-loathing rears once more.

He deserves that.

It’s evening, now. Most of the crew has settled below deck for well-earned rest and picking over supper — and you’re here, avoiding the raucous company in lieu of this. Quiet. Peace.

It’s not something you’ve had for weeks now, following Lizzy around the sea in chase of wandering loves and willful compasses and some still-beating heart in a long, lost chest.

She’s with Jack, now — chatting quietly in the evening air as they continue to plot a course by the stern. Far enough away that they’re in their own little world, as muddled and confusing as that thing between them is. Far enough away that James can stare, and wonder, and reminisce in heartwrenching loneliness.

At the sound of your voice, his head snaps forward along the horizon. He stiffens. James leans on the port banister and exhales.

“Have you come to mock me, then?” he replies in that same smooth voice you’d loved long ago — but it’s bitter and harsh, like the sting of an expensive whiskey.

You lean against the mass and cross your arms. The Eastern wind is cool — but it carries the edge of a coming storm. Give it two or three days, you reckon.

You cross your arms over your chest, and the barrel of your long rifle sways against your back. It’s cool through the thin cotton of your billowed blouse.

Your eyes slip coolly across his posture. The tumble of dark, salt-curled strands are pulled loosely into a blue ribbon. He doesn’t turn to face you, and instead turns his eyes to the honeyed-rose sunset dwindling along the horizon.

You deserve that.

You push off the mast and swagger forward. You come to rest beside him, and plant your calloused palms on the weathered wood of the Pearl’s railing.

“Pray, how is that mockery?” you say lightly, though your tone is sharp. Confident. Sure as the setting sun, “It is but the God’s honest truth.”

For the first time since he’s come aboard, he turns his head and looks at you then — truly looks at you.

James realizes then that you are not the woman he once knew in Port Royal.

There’s a new scar on your cheek. Your hair is different — styled in a more practical sense than perfectly placed like he remembers. You lack ribbons and rouge and petticoats. You’ve dawned trousers and boots and belts and sashes.

The only thing he recognizes is that rifle on your back.

You always were an impressive shot.

Though sport was rare on the island of Port Royal, your reputation followed you from England. Your father, the Governor’s Treasurer, took every chance he could to boast about his daughter’s accomplishments. James remembers many a dinner where you sat, as soft and doe-eyed and girlish as could be, and sported a bashful smile at the praise.

You were different from Elizabeth.

You always had been.

While Elizabeth had been infallible — high, and unattainable on a pedestal he’s half-aware he built himself — you had been present and interested and kind. It was clear you held a spot in your heart from the Commodore, even then. Even when he was intent on having Lizzy’s hand. Even when his attention was always wrung from conversation by her approach.

Even when he left, heartbroken and intent on chasing pirates.

You can feel his eyes on you.

His words are slow and very serious. “I’m not in the mood for jests, my lady.”

The jab doesn’t land. You continue on, unbothered.

“There was a time I would do anything for you to look at me like that, you know,” comes your easy reply as you move to crawl atop the cannon to your right. You perch yourself with ease. There’s a moment of silence that settles between you and James feels an uneasy itch crawl into his heart, “God, I would have thrown myself from the Fort’s cliffs, even.”

You never admitted your feelings for him.

Not before now.

He knew, God, of course, he did. Of course.

But, he’d been blind, then. Ignorant to the devotion of one woman, eagerly chasing the untouchable affection of another.

Finally, you look at him, and he feels like it’s ten years past again — and you’re chatting in a quiet room at a boisterous dinner party over the ethics and intricacies of Queen Anne’s privateering laws. He remembers the candlelight and the companionship and the comfort.

You were friends, once.

Your voice is quiet, carried away by the wind. You watch him, albeit distantly.

“Now look at us.”

Two tired souls, each as lost as the other.

With a flick, your gaze finds his. James’ eyes are the color of sea glass — they search yours for a moment before his jaw tenses and he drops his gaze to the water.

He’s quiet for a while, and so are you. For now, it’s just the calm swell of the sea. The sun has all but extinguished now, and the stars are creeping up over your back.

His voice is softer now.

“I doubt an apology would mend much of anything.”

You screw your face uptight. You move to pull your knees up. You’re quick to placate the assumption with a dry laugh. “I didn’t come up here seeking an apology—”

James straightens his posture and turns, fully allowing you to occupy his attention. “Then why did you come to me at all?”

His voice was colder than he intended.

You wince.

Years of loneliness, of regret, of shame, of guilt — they’ve all eroded the soul he had before. He’s as changed as you. Propriety would once call that this conversation be chaperoned; now, he finds himself yearning for a moment alone with you.

His eyes snap away again.

“...It’s what I owe you,” he says — this time, purposefully softening each syllable to paint his intent; he tries to placate the ache he sees in your face, “You... You were always kind to me. Even when I hardly deserved it. Even now.”

His eyes are soft.

Your lashes flutter.

“...It was always impossible to be anything but kind to you, James Norrington.”

He’d forgotten how his name sounded on your tongue — coy, gentle and warm. Sweeter than he remembers now, punctuated by the briefest slip of a smile. It leaves with the passing wind.

With that, you slip down from your perch and slip away.

James watches you climb to the Crow’s Nest — agile and graceful — and wonders why he ever let himself forgo your affections in the first place.

⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆

The storm rears upon them sooner than anyone expected.

It’s as if in an instant, the Pearl is swallowed by clouds darker than it’s pitch-colored sails. The electric snap of lightning splits the sky open, and in the span of five minutes, the Pearl careens into the worst storm First Mate Joshamee Gibbs has seen in ten years.

The winds send waves high — and in the chaos of bone-rattling impacts upon the deck, the crew is sent into a scramble trying to maintain the heading. They’ll lose day's worth of travel if they let the storm have her way.

The rain is coming down so heavy that James Norrington can barely see — all he can hear is the hoarse barks of orders by Gibbs and the roar of the thunder and his own thoughts.

Tripoli. The Dauntless. Hundreds of men.

Tripoli. The Dauntless. Hundreds of men.

Tripoli. The Dauntless. Hundreds of men.

His back burns as his hands grip the sea-slick ropes and he heaves, pulling taut the mainsail with four men at his back. A wave slams them from the starboard side and sends a line of sailors tumbling — and James gulps for air when the ice water strikes him hard. But, he stands firm. Keeps hauling.

Tripoli. The Dauntless. Hundreds of men—

It’s your voice, suddenly, that cuts through the roar of the storm.

“HOLD FAST!”

The starboard side is being battered by the wind and the waves and the rain. Hit after hit, the crew tries to maintain footing as they adjust the sails to correct the heading — and now, you’ve planted yourself at the front of the line.

James’ head snaps to you — and he watches a wave nearly ten feet high slam down on the deck, directly atop your head.

Somehow, you stay upright.

But, it’s like drowning.

Your hair clings to you in wind-whipped tendrils of snarls. Your shirt is soaked through, and the chill is settling into your bones. Still, better down here than up in the Crow’s Nest. The mast, at that thought, groans loudly under the push of the wind. Your boots slip, and you stagger back as you try to haul the sails back to the position — behind you, Gibbs is braced.

Your hands are bleeding.

Lightning cracks close, and you try to breathe.

“BRACE!” suddenly comes the hard call of Gibbs in your ear — but it’s neither too late nor too soon, it’s simply not enough.

The rogue wave hits the Pearl hard.

You hit the deck harder.

In a tumble of limbs and shrieks and pain, you’re rolled violently towards port — and as you gasp hard to try and get up again, you’re slammed with another cold shock of seawater. It seizes up your lungs.

It’s a whirlwind of panic that seizes you the second your back slams against the port siding. It’s water and wind and thunder and the dizzying confusion of pain crawling up your temple — and then, it’s James.

James is there.

James is there, wild-eyed and soaked and holding your face in his hands as he’s shouting something — but your ears are ringing and you’re trying to see his mouth in the downpour.

Then, just like that, the world swims back into focus.

“GET BELOW DECK.”

All you can do is nod.

He helps you, with a bruising grip, towards the lower deck’s hold — water is pooling down here, up to your ankles, and it sways and rocks with each pitch the Pearl takes. Your knees wobble as you descend, and you spare James a single, long look back as he slams the deck door’s shut with a rattle.

The animals one level down are panicked.

There are a few souls down here — most nursing injuries, some praying.

Your stomach tumbles as the ship lurches again and you stagger into a bunk on the wall. Your hands grip the ladder tightly, and it’s then that you realize you’re still bleeding. You haul yourself up, muscles still burning, into a vacant top bunk. It’s nearly dry here — but the noise of the storm and creak of the ship’s bones does little to bring comfort.

Your head is pounding.

And so you stay there, in the lonesome dark, and try to remember the quiet psalm some tired soul is whispering into a rosary. A sailor’s prayer.

Slowly, as time creeps a half past the hour, the violence of the storm begins to subside — and on the seventeenth repetition of the prayer, sunlight begins to peek through the slats in the deck overhead.

You’ve turned your eyes to marvel at the warm rays pooling into the water that has gathered below deck. Little flickers of light dance around the space — and it’s almost heavenly. Peaceful. Quiet.

Then, James.

He’s fast to make his way to you — as the rest of the crew dwindles down, wrought with exhaustion and pain. His hands are as bloody and spent as yours; torn to shreds from the coarse ropes. And still, despite this, his touch is so gentle you swear you could cry.

“Are you alright?” he asks, in a desperate whisper, as his hand finds your knee and he gestures for you to come down from the bunk.

Your nod is far from convincing.

Truth be told, you’re off. Dizzy and confused and your entire back aches. Your ribs protest with each breath.

James sees it.

He’s gentle — and suddenly, so gentlemanly — when he slips his hands beneath your arms and gently helps you down from the bunk.

You slip down his front, hands tangled around his shoulders.

The act is enough to wind you.

You plant your forehead against the sopping wet cloth of his jacket.

This moment is enough; it placates the yearning you’ve stoked for years. It’s horrible in that way — that you’re allowed this now, after so long. After so much. But, James doesn’t pull away.

Instead, his hands slip to push matted tendrils from your temple.

Worry is heavy in his deep voice. “You’re bleeding.”

You’re exhausted.

And so is he.

What he’d give to collapse into his own bunk now — to sleep for a day, or maybe more. But, his heart won’t let him. Not when you’re here, and when he... when he almost thought he could have lost you.

...But, truly, he never really had you to lose.

Nor you him.

And maybe that’s the poetic part of all this.

Suddenly, Elizabeth is calling your name from atop the deck.

You slip away, hands brushing his chest as you do.

His hands trace your arms, and you’re gone.

⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆

You have no idea where you are.

All that matters — however — is that the Pearl is docked, your feet are firmly planted on land, and you’ve got a warm helping of food in your stomach.

The crew needed this after that storm.

You lean back in your chair, arms crossed, and loosen your grip on the bottle in your hands. It’s rum — cheap rum. But, to the dear Captain’s point: rum is rum is rum. You watch him, and Gibbs, and Elizabeth, and Marty converse about something with animated intent.

From across the crowded tavern, Lizzy offers a smile.

You honor it with a commemorative swig.

The bar is busy — working girls flit in and out with men on their arms, venturing upstairs for privacy. There are card games between tables, a fight in the back alley, and music blaring loudly from the corner. All in all, for being a small little port in the middle of nowhere, it’s good business.

Not very quiet, though.

James, all the while, is trying to ignore the gnaw of yearning the sight of you brings.

He’s staring — openly, now — from his position on the balcony. His own bottle is nearly half-gone. He’s by his lonesome up here, pestered every now and again by a woman or two promising a lovely evening. But, each time, he passes. And each time, his gaze lands back on you.

Had he been so stupid?

Had he been so damn blind?

He could have had you — you, beautiful and witty and charming and sharp. You, kind and gentle, as devoted as the sun is to the moon. He could have had friendship and love and all the things touted in a marriage.

But, no. He couldn’t have Elizabeth. And so, he went and he left and he fell apart at sea. He lost what he was, and drowned the man he used to be.

Sea-green eyes watch you stand from your table. You shrug on your rifle, drop your hat atop your head, and toss a few coins down for the barmaid.

So, James swigs the rest of his drink and follows.

The port is quieter — but still, the noise from the tavern bleeds into the town’s night air. Here, with music droning on as the waves lap at the dock, you find a bit of peace.

“Mind if I join you...?”

You turn, eyes pulled away from the moon.

James’ eyes are soft.

You give him a consenting nod.

It gives you a moment to take him in.

The two days in port have done him some good. He’s washed up, taken a bath, even shaved. But, the shadow of a beard has already begun to creep back along his sharp jaw. His hair is long, swept neatly away, and a few stray strands move in the cool breeze. His hands hang on his belt, loose and easy.

He’s always been tall — imposing. Very handsome. Even in that god-awful wig.

You remember that sandalwood cologne he favored back in Port Royal. Clean. Warm. Pervasive. Expensive. The sort of thing the salary of a Commodore could allow for.

Now, he smells like gun powder and rum.

His arm brushes yours as he sidles up beside you on the dock.

“It’s dangerous to be out here alone.”

Your eyes flick up to see him watching you — and you see humor there in his eyes.

You scoff. “Come to save me, have you? Once a dashing officer of the King’s navy, always one.”

His face twists into a bitter scowl. Like he tasted something sour. “I am inclined to disagree.”

You nudge him with your arm. “Fine. I amend everything from that previous statement, up to and not including the dashing part.”

For the first time in years, you hear him laugh.

Truly laugh. A real, low, thunderous chuckle creeps from his chest as he ducks his head and smiles.

It spurs you to muster your own laughter. You try to tamp it down, to keep it quiet and easy and light. The smile that digs into your cheeks intends to remain. The ache there is sweet.

He’s watching you again.

This time, you feel as though... as though this sort of look is different.

When he speaks, his voice is tender. His words are as sweet as a summer breeze.

“...I’ve made many mistakes in my life,” he begins, “But, I now believe forsaking you may have been my biggest.”

And it feels as if someone’s plunged a knife into your chest.

You aren’t sure how to respond to that. How could you have ever been prepared for that? In a thousand, heartbroken, lonely years, you never imagined you’d feel the returned affection of the man before you. And yet, here he is, bending to take your rope-burnt hands into his own.

“I am sorry.”

And again — and again, and again. The knife is twisted, and suddenly you feel months' worth of agony rush up. Words whispered between men at the docks, the HMS Dauntless was lost on the coast of Tripoli. That Commodore Norrington was declared lost at sea. He had left with barely a word. Hellbent and heartbroken.

You never imagined an apology.

His thumb brushes over your knuckles and your swallow roughly.

“James—”

Suddenly, there’s a hand on your cheek.

“Do not protest this,” he says quietly, “You know it is what you deserve. After all I’ve done.”

You’re shaking your head when his thumb traces the curve of your cheekbone. It’s enough to make your head spin. You find both hands clinging to his own now as you shake off the dizzying thought of him in your space.

You feel like a girl again.

“You had a duty—”

“To you,” he corrects sternly; his eyes are set in a serious manner, framed by dark brows that pull taught as he brushes his fingers against a stray lock by your ear, “And I should have seen that. And I didn’t.”

It’s then that you finally look up at him.

It’s his turn to be robbed of breath.

You speak quietly.

“...You’re a good man, James.”

“You need not lie to me,” he whispers back, the space between you both enough to send the moonlight spilling over your entwined shadows.

“I would never,” you insist, your hands moving to brace flat against his chest. Your thumb brushes a bare patch of skin just along his sternum. He feels as if he’s been set on fire.

“Then, tell me,” James breathes as his nose nudges yours, “Would you allow me this?”

His eyes flick to your mouth.

All you can muster is a nod.

And then he kisses you.

His fingers hold your chin, and the kiss is as chaste and gentle as any — it’s slow and kind and warm. It’s punctuated by a deep breath as you both sink into the feeling of one another’s hold.

He... He feels hale and whole.

In a thousand, heartbroken, lonely years, you never imagined you’d feel his lips against your own. And yet, here he is, bending to break your composure with a hand that ventures around your waist. His other cradles your jaw. You cling, and allow the chasteness to dissipate into a feverish sort of chase.

It’s your tug on his lapels, the bunched grip of your shirt, the stagger of boots against the deck as he bends at the knee and nips at your bottom lip. Your arms swim around his neck, and you try to kiss him like you’re not halfway to the depths of love.

You’ve tangled your fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck, leaped onto the tips of your boots, and allowed for his hands to grip the curves of your waist tightly as he hides a desperate kiss into your smile.

And then, a voice.

“’Bout time, I’d reckon.”

Captain Jack Sparrow — in all his glory — stumbles by.

And James Norrington has to try not to kill him then and there.

[marsbabysblog]

Davy Jones reaction to you cussing

for @inner-sparkle-inner-writings

Davy Jones x fem!reader 

Warnings: Swearing (obvi) 

Request

Davy Jones x reader in which the reader screws something up and on the job and accidentally cussed her-self our for it, and being the first time Davy hears her swear and reacting to it?

____________________________________________

It was quite a normal day

Everybody was at their own station preparing for the storm up ahead. Davy Jones didn’t fear shit, a storm was a small splinter in his goal, it didn’t effect their route. Well at least that was for the half fish half people…for Y/n it was a different story.

Being completely human and on the shorter side of everyone else, storms were like a living nightmare in the ocean. All the commotion and crew flailing around made Y/n feel sick. While everyone else could hold their ropes in place, Y/n would literally fly with the wind. It was difficult and no body seemed to care.

Finally the waves crashed down, the rain fell hard, and the thunder roared louder than the damn canons. Y/n’s hair was soaked and kept blowing in her face. Her clothes were wet and were very uncomfortable to wear. But the worst thing of all was every man (if you could even call them that at this point) was fighting about what direction they should be going. Arguing turned into a screaming match which turned into a fist fight. Someone lost their aim and punched Y/n right in the face.

“Oh my fucking god!” Y/n shouted louder than the commotion around her. Loud enough to make everyone stop what they were doing.

Y/n was sweet, honestly she was a kind soul. Pirates weren’t the type to change their ways for a woman but with Y/n things were different. Most of the crew actually respected her, or at least they were nicer. Maybe it was because they wanted to get in her pants but that didn’t matter, as long as no one really messed with her she didn’t care. But this was it. This was her final straw. She had finally snapped.

“We are going North, that is the right fucking way! I swear to god you men are bunch of dumbasses!”

The crew looked at her in shock, then they looked at their Captain, Davy Jones.

He looked even more shocked then them. He opened his mouth but closed it immediately, he was speechless. How could such a “fragile” lady say such vulgar things. And not just any lady, how could Y/n swear? He didn’t think it was possible.

“And now that I’m on that subject,” Y/n continued, “I am teaching you all how to fucking shower. I tried my best to endure the smell of shit but it had gotten way too much!” She was on a roll her insults and her opinion. She already started so why stop now?

After at least 10 minutes of ranting, Jones interrupted her.

“Y/n that’s enough.” He tried to sound more demanding but honestly he sounded a bit scared. “Come with me…” He grabbed her arm and walked her into his quarters.

“…are you okay?” It was blunt but he sounded genuine. “Are you on your…um…lady days?” he whispered.

Y/n cupped her own face in her hands and screamed into them.

“No…” she said bringing her eyes back up to meet his, “simply angry that was all but i feel much better to get that off my chest.” She smiled. He looked down right terrified.

“Are you sure your okay?” How does this women start off as the nicest little thing ever, start swearing up a storm, scream, and then smile like normal…

“Mhm!”

“…i don’t think i’ll ever quite understand you…”

____________________________________________

Ahhhh! I finally finished my first request!!! This was so fun to write 😭 I know i changed some things around in the fan-fiction but i hope you still like it!

More serious writings are coming soon, I just wanted to start off with a short little comedy! I hoped you enjoyed and tysm for the request! Feel free to leave any notes! Love yaaa<333

-marsswann

[demigoddessqueens]

Imagining an AU where James lives….

But I can easily imagine a scenario where Norrington and his s/o are like that Victorian couple who break face and laugh while trying to hold still for a portrait

(He’d have the cutest smile 😁)

[shuckfacedcarrot]

Thought I had a great new idea for a book only to figure out it's basically just a James Norrington fanfic. Then again who doesn't love Commodore Norrington? I haven't written fanfiction in ages but if anyone's interested I might just go ahead 👀

[dameronology]

wherever the wind takes us (jack sparrow)

summary: being a woman aboard the black pearl is hard. it's a good thing the captain has your back.

warnings: language, sexism

this is like...super basic. but i have literally never written for jack sparrow before and LET ME TELL U it was a fckn challenge lmaoooo

enjoy xx

-jazz

Jack Sparrow had never believed in the myth that women brought bad luck to ships.

Actually, he thought women were great. Enchanting, even. He had nothing but respect for them and their tight dresses, great butts and...what's that?

That was the sound of your voice in his head telling him to shit the fuck up and respect his superiors. I digress.

The captain had always had bad luck. Or maybe he was just a categorical moron - either way, he felt his fortunes had improved considerably since you'd stumbled onto the The Black Pearl. You were the voice of reason to his absurdity; the steady ship to the swirling, deathly maelstrom that encapsulated all that was Jack Sparrow. He would never deny that he'd been initially drawn in by your appearances; furthermore by how good of a swordsman you were, and then entirely and completely when you became the first, and seemingly only woman, to resist his charms. It was clear from the get go that you were what his crew needed: a person who wasn't completely fucking insane. It seemed like an entry requirement for the job and yet, not a single man aboard the Pearl seemed to meet it. They all had heart - no one could deny that - but what they lacked was brains.

And so, with a smoothly-spoken (but still slurred) speech from Jack, and a promise of a 50% cut of whatever their next win was, you boarded the The Black Pearl. There was a complete sense of uncertainty and a total lack of planning, but you felt that was what you needed at that point in your life. It had been so long since you'd had the thirst for adventure: even though you were still young, it was a feeling you hadn't chased since your late teens. The last few years had been riddled with near-death experiences and lost ships, so no one blamed you for assigning yourself to the nearest bar for a little while.

Not everyone had been as welcome as Jack vis-a-vis your presence on the ship. Joshamee Gibbs had, like always, blindly trusted Jack that you were worthy of the job, and it was nice to know you had him in your corner. Everyone else was a little...colder. Pintel and Ragetti had been little bitches ever since you'd stepped afoot the boat, but a quick glare from you and some seething words from Jack quickly shut them up.

You hadn't expected Jack Sparrow of all people to stick up for you. In the few weeks that you'd known him, he'd always seemed so...self-serving. Even his initial interest in you had been in an attempt to seek out someone for the night; that was an idea you had quickly shut down, even if you now found yourself giving him the occasional glance. Who could blame you? It was attractive to see a man who was so in control of his crew and his ship - even if most the time, Jack was anything but.

He'd grown on you. That was hard to deny. At first, it had been a reluctant alliance, but now you were undeniably friends. You were the kind of person he'd always needed: chaotic enough to keep up, but distanced enough from him to kick his back in line when it was needed. And Jack had never wanted that before: he'd never wanted someone to keep him in line. He found that he didn't mind so much with you. It seemed like he spent his entire life arguing with people but when it came to you, it felt like a conversation. A heated one - and intense more times than not - but a conversation nonetheless.

"My loyal men! And...my loyal woman," Jack leant over the upper deck of the Pearl, empty bottle of rum in hand. His dark eyes flickered to you, even just for a moment. "It is time for Uncle Jack to retire for the night. Do not wake me unless the ship is sinking, on fire, under attack or all three. Actually, don't. Just tell (name). I'm leaving her in charge."

"Ay, Cap'n," Gibbs gave him a faithful salute. "Have a good rest."

Jack took off his hat and tossed it in your direction. You caught it with a smile, before turning around to face your men. As always - and with definitely no relation to the captain's reckless actions - you were working with a limited crew. There were the usual four: Pintel, Ragetti, Cotton and Marty. They were good enough, even if they muttered shit about your gender under their breath. After them, came the new addition: Anderson. Jack had picked up him at the last port - an old friend of Gibb's, apparently. He hadn't given off a good first impression; he seemed like a shit person and an even worse pirate.

"We have a long night ahead, boys," you began. "We need to make it back to Tortuga before light. The wind is on our side so Gibbs, you can man the wheel. Marty, you're up in the crow's nest and Pintel and Ragetti, you can check the knots on the sails."

"What about me?" Anderson stood up and took a step towards you.

"You can mop the deck," you said with a forced smile. "Your little stint earlier at the port is the reason we're four hours behind schedule. Consider it punishment."

"This is ridiculous!" he exclaimed. "Who are you to be giving out orders? You're a woman-"

"- I'm wearing the hat, Anderson," you shot back. "Never question the power of the hat."

"I'm not questioning the power of the hat. I'm questioning the power of your gender-"

"- shut the fuck up!"

You pulled your sword from your belt, forcing the tip against Anderson's throat.

Oh, yeah. There was your temper too. Maybe that was another reason Jack trusted you to put his men in line.

"Say that again," you demanded and took a step towards him. Anderson began backing away, edge of your sword following him as he slowly inched towards the edge of the ship.

"You heard me, sweetheart," he spat.

"Don't call me that."

"You don't mind it when the Captain does it though, do you?"

"Watch your fucking mouth," you growled. "Don't have you have any respect for your superiors, Anderson? You're lucky that you're still on this ship at all."

"Same could be said for you," he spat back. "You wouldn't be here if Sparrow wasn't only keeping you around because you're pretty-"

Throwing you sword aside, you lifted up your boot and slammed it straight into Anderson's chest. He toppled backwards and straight over the edge of the Pearl - nothing but a drop in the ocean now. Obviously you weren't going to leave him for dead but what was the harm in letting him float in the cold for a little bit?

You leant over the side. "Sorry, what were you saying?"

Like I said.

A temper.

With that, you turned on your heel and marched away.

"Ma'am," Gibbs followed after, barely keeping up as you stormed across the bow of the ship. "Are we just going to leave him?"

"Give it a few minutes, Josh," you commanded. "Then you can throw him a rope."

"Minutes?" his eyebrows shot up. "Ma'am with all due respect, it's winter and he could freeze to death before-"

"- did I stutter?" you snapped. Stopping in your tracks, you spun around to face him. "Maybe then he'll learn his lesson, no?"

"I see where you're coming from. He overstepped, but you really won't want his death on your hands."

"Fine," you huffed. "PINTEL! RAGETTI! Drag him back up - but make sure you drop him a few times."

"Thank you, ma'am," Gibbs gave you a smile. "He's a family friend, you see."

"Yeah, whatever," you murmured. "Go man the wheel, please. I don't trust those buffoons up there on their own."

Exchanging goodbyes, you headed into the cabin. Those men got far too much, far too quick - it was funny that you could so easily with Jack, who was arguably a thousand times worse than the four of them combined. The only peace away from them was deep in the indoor section of the Pearl. Exactly where the rum was.

You hadn't noticed that someone was following you, not until you dunked your flask into one of the open barrels.

"Is the ship sinking, on fire, under attack, or all the above?"

You glanced over your shoulder at Jack. "None of those things. Don't worry."

"So why have I been woken up by all this inhumane clashing, clanging and screaming? Did I not give you one specific instruction? One that you have so magnificently failed in following?"

"You did," you replied, taking a swig of rum. "Anderson was annoying me so I pushed him overboard."

Jack's eyebrows shot up. "Anderson being an insufferable sycophant is a given but was he really that bad that it deemed interrupting my beauty sleep?"

"Oh, Jack," you gave him a soft smile, running a hand over his cheek. "No amount of beauty sleep will fix this mess-"

"- I don't like you," he grumbled and whacked your palm away. "Your new job is to keep those scrotes in line til I rouse again - naturally, and not because you're hurting their little pirate feelings. Savvy?"

You sniffed. "Savvy."

"Good," Jack grinned.

---

By the time the sun rose, you were the only one awake. The ship was anchored in calmer waters; thanks to the little incident with Anderson, you hadn't quite made it to Tortuga, but you weren't far off. It might have been a done job had the other four not fucked off to sleep before 4AM, but it had been a long night. More so for some than others - namely, Anderson, who had been shivering in a blanket since he'd been wrenched up from the waters.

You always took the early shift in the crow's nest; mostly because you were the only one awake, but also because it was peaceful. There was nothing but clear oceans for miles, fading into a war of pinks, blues and oranges in line with the rising sun. Tortuga was just off in the distance - a stark contrast to the tranquility you found yourself in right now. You loved it there, undeniably, but it was chaotic as fuck. Sometimes you needed a break away from all of that.

"Dare I approach you? Or will you push me overboard too?"

"Go away, Jack," you grumbled. "I'm not in the mood."

The pirate pulled himself up onto the crow's nest, shuffling to take a seat beside you. He reached forward and yanked his hat off of your head.

"Now that I am captain again, I must discuss a very pressing issue with you."

You thinned your eyes at him. "I've been getting shit all night from your men for belting Anderson. Can you at least give me a break before you join in?"

"I have no shit to give you. Rather the contrair, my dear," Jack replied and slung an arm over your shoulders. "It took a few moments of deciphering Ragetti's delirious recollection of the story but I have been made aware in no uncertain terms that Anderson, as always, has run his mouth a little too far."

"Yeah, no shit," you muttered. "Maybe he didn't deserve to be dunked, though."

"I would have left him to the mermaids. I cannot imagine them responding kindly to his sexist comments."

You snorted. "It was Gibbs that made me do it."

"Ah yes, ever the good man," Jack murmured. "Regardless of how his mummy loves Anderson, we shall dearly depart with our good man at the next port."

"Why?" you glanced at him. "He's said much worst to you, Jack. Gone against your orders much more than mine."

"But you see, you are not me," he shot back. "You have done nothing deserving of such treatment. And I'm not admitting that I have, but the likelihood of either one of us committing despicable acts lies ever so slightly more with me than it does with you."

"Right - thanks, Jack," you lowly chuckled. "But really, you don't have to do this-"

"- the deal is done," he cut you off. "Anderson shall be abandoned in Tortuga and you, my dear, shall continue to sail the seven seas on the finest ship known to man."

"I'm assuming that said ship is waiting for us at the port? Because there is no way in hell that you're talking about this one."

Jack let out a groan. "Why must you break my heart?"

"You don't have a heart, Jack Sparrow."

"Why do you think I have this magnificent compass, then?"

You gave him a smile. "Whatever works for you, cap'n."

Jack stood up, dusting off his trousers and sticking out a hand to help you up. The sun was breaking through now, signalling the start of the day. Tortuga was only an hour or two away and for everyone else on board, that meant being an hour or two away from the rum. A very pressing matter indeed.

"Where are we headed after Tortuga?" you asked.

He glanced down at his compass. It was pointed right at you.

"Wherever the wind takes us, love."

[kathaariawrites]

Nights in Cádiz - Armando Salazar x Reader (Chapter 3)

I know I should be ashamed to come back and write another chapter as if nothing happened BUT at least I'm back so yay.

The dress I picture [Y/N] wearing here is this one. Also, because it's mentioned, here's a guide on the language of fans in the 18th century.

As breakfast progressed, with stolen glances and smirks from your part, Armando felt his face flush. It was highly, highly inappropriate for a lady, specially this young, this joyful, to behave like this. He was her father's friend, he left for his last trip when her mom was pregnant. [Y/N] had her whole life ahead and shouldn't be giving her attention to him.

He looked at Lesaro for help but he only shot him knowing glances back and it made him frown. No, this would not do it. He excused himself and stood up, going for a walk outside the house. Fresh air, instead of the suffocating atmosphere inside.

Lesaro found him soon after.

"¿Dónde vás?", his voice made him pause. It was too easy to forget he was a commanding officer too.

"I need fresh air, Gui."

"I can see that. You're troubled today, Armando, and your face is showing it to everyone. ¿Qué pasa?"

Armando turned around then, a loud sigh leaving him. "It's the señorita, Gui. I...Diós."

Guillermo chuckled, approaching him with slow steps. He knew his friend too well, the same good old Armando from the Academy days in front of him now.

He remembers how Armando was, how he always has been. Passionate, intense, a handsome man who always let insecurities get the best of him on these matters. When they were young sailors, it would brew down to him thinking no respectable woman should be with him because of his father's actions. Then, as they rose ranks practically together, it extended to his capabilities, to him being away for too long and not wanting to hold a woman "hostage to his work", as he said.

Armando never planned on being a captain until Guillermo himself vouched for him. He would be a good one, and time proved him right at every possible instance, but at the cost of his own captaincy offer. Guillermo was a man of the crew, Armando was a man of command and it was the way it was supposed to be.

Being on so many different ships together, the deaths, La Maria and the curse, had brought them impossibly close together. They confided everything to each other. The young Armando who relucted in seeking comfort with brothel women in their stops was in front of him again, insecurity and fear shining in his deep eyes and Guillermo almost laughed at how unfitting it seemed to see this man, strong and stubborn, like this.

"What about her, amigo? You seem to be enjoying each other's company enough."

Armando blushed and Lesaro's eyebrows shot up as he said, "She showed up in my dream last night. We talked, Gui. She held my hand, not even flinching at my cursed face."

"Impossible. She never saw us cursed, never even been on La Maria. Armando, are you sure you simply didn't dream her being there?"

He shook his head, "No, ella estaba conmigo. She mentioned it today before breakfast, when I met her at the hall. No sé que hacer."

To say Lesaro was more amused than he should was an understatement, "Perhaps it is a sign, amigo."

Salazar squinted at him, "No te atrevas..."

"A sign your affections are mutual and you need to stop this nonsense and ask Hugo for her hand."

"¡Guillermo Lesaro!", Armando said, eyes going wide and face red. "¡No, absolutamente no!"

"Armando, we got another shot at life to make things right and be happy. If it lies with her, allow yourself to feel it."

"¡No, Guillermo! La señorita is young, I'm an old, seasoned sailor. It is highly inappropriate and wrong to even suggest such a thing."

"A lot of things changed in these years we have been gone, amigo."

Their conversation was cut short by the sound of someone approaching. One look at her and Armando's eyes softened immediately and she gave them a curtsy before looking up at him again. The dress, green skirt and floral overcoat, the hat on top of her head, the way she looked up with the fan in her left hand, open, the message conveyed so elegantly.

"Am I interrupting, ¿almirantes?"

"No, señorita! I was just telling Armando I have something to attend to at the Armada headquarters so if you will excuse me.", Lesaro bowed to them and walked away, a smile on his face at the playful betrayal.

Armando, on the other hand, held her right hand and planted a kiss on it in greeting. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Walk with me, Armando?", she said, smiling. And Armando would not, could not refuse. He offered her his arm, smiling as she took it and they walked towards the gardens.

Spanish translations:

¿Dónde vás? = Where are you going?

¿Qué pasa? = What's going on?

Diós = God

No, ella estaba conmigo = No, she was with me

No sé que hacer = I don't know what to do

Amigo = Friend

No te atrevas... = Don't you dare...

¡No, absolutamente no! = No, absolutely not!

Almirantes = Admirals

Señorita = miss

[lieutenantselnia]

Imagine that Davy Jones probably sometimes feels a little bad because he can't hug you that well, due to his crustacean arm. However, in an attempt to make up for that, he'll gently caress your face with his tentacles whenever you kiss him or are simply close enough for him to reach. He'll use some of them to lift your chin and angle you closer to him, and others to softly stroke your cheeks, your temples, or simply your whole face. It probably felt a little funny the first time he did it, but he's very careful when he does it and you soon learned to enjoy this way of him showing affection.

[justafairytailofinnocence]

Hello dears💖, thanks to @savvythepirate /@inner-sparkle-inner-writings this request.

Davey Jones x reader🐙 Lost love🐙💖

Synopsis: davey jones is usually a cold and fearsome captain towards y/n and the crew. He didn't realize he had feelings for her until tradergy stuck. Y/n was smart enough that she could sense some change in the captains behaviour. She tried to confront him, which resulted in something rather odd.

Warnings: drowning

The seas rose over the flying Dutchman, waves crash amongst the ship and the crew kept pushing against the ships current. “Put yer backs into it” The crack of the whip shot straight into the crewmembers backs, they had to keep pushing through. Davey Jones was and will always be a ruthless captain, feared amongst men and sailors. No one dared question the captain, he was forever to roam the depths of the seas with the lingering souls he deemed as new members. The crewmembers do not wish to communicate to their captain unless necessary, Davey would threaten to have their heads fed to the kraken if they dared disturbed him.

However, below the ships deck, sat a girl, a girl with so much sympathy and empathy any sailor would mistake her for a goddess. Y/n was the kindest of souls, never once did she raise a hand to anyone nor even slaughter a man for sport. Y/n would try her best to help the crew mates so they weren’t always in pain, she would try to give them more food than herself and wipe the barnacles off their face. The crew members of the ship would normally be thankful for y/n’s kindness. One thing still stands as a challenge, the captain of the ship, he was closed off from everyone and he enjoyed his crews torment. “Faster” the fiery whip cracked against the crew’s back, y/n couldn’t stand the sound of the men screaming in agony. Y/n prayed each night that the men taken in wouldn’t have it so bad as the last bunch, sometimes the sounds of the screams would haunt her.

Y/n thought about confronting the captain about his cruel methods, Davey Jones may have frightened her at times, but she was strong, strong enough to stop the cruelty on this ship. Y/n got up from the comfort of her bunk and headed up towards the captains cabin. The screams of men still echoed through the ships walls, barnacles grew along the walls of the ship and water poured on the ships deck. “Cap’n” y/n shouted, her hand banged against the door, the waves crashes were so loud that it would take a miracle for Davey to even answer. “Cap’n” y/n shouted once more, the door was cracked with barnacles and the wood rotting from the outside. The door to the cabin swung open with Davey Jones growling at whom may be disturbing him “and what ye request be, I be busy”. Davey was in no mood to have anyone disturb him; he would hold his sword to their throat unless the reason was good enough. “C-cap’n it’s me y/n, I need to talk to ya about something” y/n stuttered hoping the captain wouldn’t kill her.  

Davey looked down, his tentacles twitched and turned at the sight of a woman before him. “Ye best be havin a good reason lass” Davey growled “I, I want to request that you stop treating the crew with cruelty”. Davey took a smoke from his pipe raising an eyebrow “stop? Ye want me te’ stop orderin’ me crew” he nearly laughed. Y/n shook her head and pleaded “please Davey, these men are screaming in agony, they’re in pain, they are pleading for death”. Y/n was standing close, too close for even his own liking “ye plead be denied”. Davey turned back into his cabin when y/n grabbed his hand out of frustration, she stood white as a ghost at the realization of what she had done. “I’m sorry Cap’n, please don’t throw me overboard” the touch of y/n’s hand was warm compared to Jones’s, it was smooth, she had no lumpy barnacles. He took one glance at the girl’s soft hand, it brought back something, something he wished to forget.

Davey out of frustration hit y/n’s hand away “Ye pleadin’ be denied” he shouted slamming the door shut. Y/n was slightly confused, he was angered, normally the captain would laugh in their face if they made such a request. What perked her curiosity was when he showed frustration over her touch, her soft skin brought back something.

On the other side of the door stood Jones, the tentacles below his chin twirled and twisted, Davey sighed to himself as he wandered over to the organ. The tentacles placed themselves over the keys ready to be played, and yet he couldn’t start the song, of course the notes were lingering over his mind, yet he couldn’t play. He furrowed his eyebrows, something caused him infliction, the way y/n touched him had broken something within him. Fragments of memories started to flood his mind, it wasn’t of slaughtering and his triumph but of a girl, a girl that shrouded him with pain from his past. The memories of her would be too hard to bear, she broke his love, and he could no longer mend the past.

He blamed this on y/n, she was reason for this sudden spurt of memories arising. The tentacles started to press down on the organ and one by one they started to play. One of the tentacles briefly brushed over a locket, the locket was gripped by the tentacle as he opened it up. Davey’s eyes softened at the sight of his old beloved, the one who broke his heart, within all the memories they came flooding back.

A single tear streamed down his tentacle beard, he missed her more than the seas could remember and yet couldn’t bear to mend the past. The rest of his tentacles played over the organ slowing down, within a split second his soft demeanor had gone. Davey needed to concentrate on being a captain all his reputation, his triumph, his glory will not go to waste at the mere sight of a girl. He will play the fearsome captain he was supposed to be.

Y/n meanwhile was busy down in the sleeping quarters, it’s where she ate and slept, it wasn’t fancy don’t get her wrong. The barnacles grew out of the walls and many of the crew mates were quite rowdy. Y/n placed a wet cloth over one of the whipped crewmates faces, the pain made him wince a few times. “It’s not your fault you ended up this way” she whispered; the crewmate looked up into y/n’s sympathetic eyes. “High tides at sea, cap’n as ordered us above deck” one of the crew members barked out. Y/n got to her station and rushed out the door to see waves bigger than what she was used too. They were high, high enough to touch the mast of the ship “everyone get to their stations” the first mate ordered.

“Y/n, hurry up lass” one of the men shouted “Aye”, y/n needed to grab a bucket to push the water over board. At this point the waves crashing were so much to handle it sent some of the crew members flying back, Y/n had trouble seeing where anyone was. “Hey!” she shouted; the waves covered the sound of her voice. There was a wave so big that even Poseidon couldn’t tame it, it swept y/n off her feet into the ocean. The current was so big that salt water filled her nose, she had no time for breaks, staying above the water was all that mattered. The sea tossed and turned y/n over head first into the water causing her to cough up the water she inhaled. “HELP!” she screamed “PLEASE SOMEONE HELP ME!” the flying Dutchman was starting to fall behind “Cap’n man overboard”. The crew prepared to turn around when the first mate stopped them “why are we turnin’ get back on track”.

“She be a lass drownin’ at sea” the man y/n tried to help shouted “it don’t matter, we need to keep goin’, turn the ship”. The man was shoved by the first mate “we keep goin’, as fer the rest of you scurvy dogs get back to yer stations”. Davey opened the door to his cabin, the seas were raising too high for his liking, his eyes scanned the area, he couldn’t see y/n. “Where be y/n” he shouts to his first mate “gone overboard cap’n, we be travellin’ back on course”. Davey’s eyes widened at the sudden news “turn the ship around to where she be” the first mate interjected “but cap’n-“.

Davey turned around pointing his sword at his first mates neck “unless ye disobey me orders, the kraken be hungry”. The flying Dutchman was suddenly pulled to turn, the ship took a different course, the seas crashed with the roar of the wind. “Cap’n we spotted the lass” the crewmate shouts overboard the Dutchman, Davey roared with the sound of the wind “Pull er’ in”. The men wasted no time and lowered the nets to catch y/n, the seas howled higher within each reach. The men reached to grab her by the arm, y/n was knocked out cold, water filled her lungs as she was hoisted on the ship.

The crew surrounded y/n, Davey stood back watching the horror’s unfold, if he were religious, he would’ve prayed to see y/n have the light of day once again. “Y/n” he muttered quietly, one of the crewmates placed an ear to her chest “cap’n, the lass, she may be…”.

He couldn’t bare it, he didn’t want to, the only one of his crew members he cared about was her. “y/n” he muttered once more beneath his breath, his tentacles stood still, he just wanted the girl to come back.

One of the crew members had pressed against y/n’s chest, silence filled the air, Davey wouldn’t take his eyes off y/n for a split second.

Suddenly a sound of coughing emerged, salt water started to spill out of y/n’s mouth. “Ah, I, I” y/n was dazed, her body was exhausted “Cap’n I’m so sorry, I tried to call out and-“ y/n didn’t know why she would even expect sympathy from a fearsome captain. “Take er’ to me quarters” Davey barked out, the crew wasted no time and helped y/n to the captains quarters. “Cap’n” y/n muttered silently, she noticed the way his eyes glanced, they were quite strained of stress.

Y/n hoped the captain wouldn’t scold her; it wasn’t her fault the waves were the size of Poseidon’s trident. Y/n was halted into the captains quarters, the crew leave with hesitation, they wouldn’t want to be around the captain any longer. “Yes cap’n, I’m sorry, I shou-“ y/n was cut off “ye made worried” he softly muttered. Y/n was confused, she had the suspicion she was in trouble instead she got a different response. “Ye made me, question somethin’ I ain’t supposed ta know” Davey growled with anger “Ye pleas ain’t gonna save ye this time”. Y/n threw herself against the wall in fear Jones would throw his sword against her neck.

“Ye not ta’ be wanderin’ around the edge of the ships deck” Davey didn’t even threaten her, he didn’t even punish her. “May I ask cap’n, why did ya save me, you could’ve replaced me with another lost soul” Davey went quiet, he couldn’t exactly say himself why he put the effort into ordering his crew to save one dying soul. “Do, do you care for me” the words slipped out of y/n’s mouth, she was curious, she had to know. “ye better get back to yer station, yer flyin’ Bilge rat” Davey turned his back on y/n, he was frustrated with the actions he just committed. Y/n out of nowhere ran up and hugged him from behind “Thank you cap’n, I knew ye weren’t heartless”.

Davey stood still frozen with shock, no one had ever done this “I” he muttered before y/n turned around going back to the sleeping quarters. The action had left him with utter bewilderment, y/n’s skin was pressed against the slimly coat of his arms. “Y/n” he muttered, she left in a hurry, something soft awakened within him. The tentacles around his face somewhat reached out to her, he couldn’t believe his eyes, these feelings had left him frozen. The way y/n acted, her kindness, it was never something he had experienced before. Davey wasn’t one for softness, certainly to an extend to his cruelty but he would possibly spare y/n the pain of his torment amongst the souls.

The tentacles curled back into position as his eyes softened, would it be possible that his love could be mended. No one has ever tried mostly because of fear and his last love had broken his heart.

To love another would be debatable, he swore to keep a close eye on y/n and if any of the crew members cross her, he would feed them to the kraken. Davey didn’t exactly follow y/n, he certainly couldn’t let her know.

Y/n peaked around the corner with a plate of her own food, it nearly jumped the captain. “I’m back, I thought we could eat together” the sight of y/n made his tentacles curl. “Ye may stay but speak of this ta’ anyone’ an’ it be cleanin’ fer the next century” Jones somewhat threatened.

Y/n grinned with a warm smile and sat in the captains quarters, eating with the most fearsome captain in all the seven seas.

Anway’s that’s all I have for now:

Ta Ta✨

Oneshot requests: open

[primary-022]

Starting of slow

Okay I got a concept of what to write for and about.

So I have a list of movies and show I can write for.

The umbrella academy ☔

The maze runner 🏃

Ready player one 1⃣

Harry Potter 👓

Pirate of the Caribbean 🧭

Marvel

Lord of the rings 💍

The Hobbits 🧙‍♂️

The house of wax

Jeepers creepers

Texas chainsaw massacre

Halloween 🦇

Friday the 13th

The lost boys

It

Spree

Silent hill

Dracula ( all kinds of sorts) ( sort of)

Hellboy

God's of Egypt

Bill and Ten Excellent Adventure

If anyone has other movie ideas, please share them below. Thank you! <3

[theblogofdavyjones]

It’s my birthday!!!

Can I request for someone to do a Davy Jones fic for my birthday? 🥳 🎂 🎉

Requests ideas: A story that begins with angst after Davy snaps at the reader on false accusations, realizes he was wrong in the end and tries to make it up to her as the story ends in fluff

Davy comes to her rescue after witnessing a crew mate trying to intimidate and inflict fear by using his height to tower over her, Davy steps in front of her, does the same to the crew mate before sending him off to get his punishment for hurting her

Thanks so much!

***

@theblogofdavyjones / @savvythepirate

Requests: Open

Tags: @always-on-hiatus @princessofthornsandroses @justafairytailofinnocence @friendlynova @mypookiebeardavyjones @marsswann

[demigoddessqueens]

the captain and the witch

Summary - he thought he could have it all, but it left him lonely. He sees the similarities between him and Jones starting to grow, and it pains him.

Author’s note: Yes i based these headcanons off this song! Yes I still love this character and always thinks he deserves better.

It seemed perfect to him! All the praise and glory back in his hands until Jones interferes as always.

Capturing you was a side quest, a means to taunt the goddess Calypso with her kinsmen, but one that Norrington greatly objected to given the cruel nature of it

James was drawn to you for the obvious reasons — your immortality, power, the history you shared with the Sea herself but you looked at him with such a disdain it got to him. Easily.

Still, it compelled him in the short few days you had together when he came by your “quarters”, either to drop off food for you or seek information.

Every word, be it a taunt at him or the blasé nature of yours in withholding, still kept him hooked as if it was your siren’s song.

You thought it annoying at first how this mortal man kept coming back to your cell. Does he wish to taunt you? But it becomes more than that.

He amused you. Very few cared what you had to say back then and now, except for him. Maybe he was try to be empathetic (or just liked the sound of his own voice), but you slowly began to tolerate him. Small accounts here and there, bits and pieces of life stories that fit like puzzles. Though it was humorous at seeing his eyes widen when you told the ancient tales of your life, you appreciated the images conjured by his life story.

Even though it made you feel sad and somewhat pity him.

James didn’t think it was anything serious until he heard you say his name. It rolled so flawlessly off your tongue, and it coursed through his body.

Was it your old magicks or the realization that something more had grown between you two?

When the crew of the Pearl had been captured and placed with you, they recognized you from the tales and stories used to scare others.

Call it an alliance of convenience when you escape, but before you flee The Dutchman, James catches you with the rest.

If this is goodbye, then it was a treasured time he does not regret. James knows it’s too late for him, but he can’t help but pause at your offer as you hold your hand out to him.

“Leave with me. Join me. I’m taking my life back. Will you do the same?”

Still, you deserve better, with or without him. The kiss goodbye catches you off guard before he sends you past the railing to the safety of the ocean.

You feel the life of him slip away when you hit the waters. It’s a sharp pain that leaves you gasping for air.

You want to see him again, uttering a meek offering to whatever deities of yours still reside in the oceans. Prayers mixed with the bitterness of what possibilities were taken from you.

“You foolish, idiotic caring man…” 💔

After the end of Jones’s defeat and the pirate world is freed for now, you dare to hope and reunite with James aboard the Dutchman.

Whoever heard your demand, you’re thankful to him. Part of the Dutchman, part of the crew, his eyes meet yours across the waters with that soft smile you looked forward to.

Despite the rivalry he once had with Turner, there’s a newfound appreciation he has for it. Because when Will crosses that shore, it’s for Elizabeth.

When James crosses it, you’re there for him. Fear of abandonment no longer exists in that hollow chest of his, and when the curse is lifted, you two will be together again.

“I found you.” “Can’t get rid of me that easily now, can you?”

[inkandpen22]

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

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.

______________________________

Masterlist

Tags: @subwonwooagenda @starfire56 @doveygirlkay-blog @dansyberry@dansyberry @meany-marcelini@naturallyathief @oliviamae4193@xxshoutxx @house-chase465636 @the-clint-barton @lxr1582 @m00ny-stars @lonliest-love@meandmymessyminds@jick-n0nas@biracy@kriimu10@soxpoprocks@peachyplxm@captainluciabianchin@cannibalistic-cicada@a-e-i-owe-you@velvetsnaiil@mindifislytherin666@bunkyung @livinglifewithoutbeingseen@ghosts-face@mx-pibbles@bigplaidwinnerparty @greentea121598 @that-eco-bitch

@gillybear17r17 @morticiaofthedeadedead @xx-rosehasthorns-xx @flacalatkeke @happypersonalya @justjacksparrow @ghosty187

@envyscherry @happypersonalya @skyonly @liv0679 @macosta-lll @canyonflowerxplr @beeblisss

@shatfairy @laurhx @imagines-and-preferences1216

@nicole-lightfoot @yuuki4646 @mscoffee

[kyraghosty]

{~} Modern AU

Salazar & Lesaro {~}

Okay so in this modern AU

Salazar would be a Prosecutor. And here is why :

A Prosecutor is acting in the name of the Government. He is the person responsible for the prosecution, and so the one who sent criminal to the court. He carries out all the necessary actions to investigate and prosecute violation of criminal law. To this end, he directs the activities of officer and agents of the police

So not only he’s chasing / sending to court criminals, but also can command the police

Wich is basically what Salazar was doing by hunting pirates but well, in an older era. So this is just perfectly accurate to him ! XD

As for Lesaro, we tought of him beeing a Detective :

He could have been Investigator too, so he would be under someone’s commandment, but Detective fit more to us, and Salazar could still ask him help and such.

And well, the typical Detective has a hat, and Lesaro has one, so it fit a lot ! XD

And once again, Detective interrogates people and such to find criminals / suspect

So once again, it goes back to what they were originally doing in the movies xD !

So me and my friend with who I got the idea will be working on the others characters, but this might turn into a whole police / criminal / justice / government thing cause yeah xD

It just fit the characters so well, like imagine Beckett beeing a mayor or something like that you see-

And perhaps who know.. maybe a Mafia ? Where all the pirates character could be at XD

We’ll see !

Anyways hope you like the idea xD

Have a good day / night !

[nestvrn]

i have just watched the potc trilogy but hear me out—

nesta and cassian as pirate au

nesta is the pirate that loves the sea, the wind, the waves and cassian is this admiral or general of the night court fleet and they just fall in love from the first sight while in battle or some fight on swords and—

*squeaks in nessian*

[silverefflux]

*Plane* Capt. Jack Sparrow

Imagine an airline just jokingly putting a Jack Sparrow actor in the cockpit?

I can hear the slurring on the PA like

"Uhhhladies and gentlemen..this is ur CAPTAIN speaking...CAPTAIN Jack Sparrow, with my copilot...uhhh---*away from mic* whats ur name again?---*returns to mic* First Officer Will Turner."

Then mid-flight he just does the Jack Sparrow run all the way to the lavatory at the back LMAOOO