#pyratezlife

[vocesincaput]

@pyratezlife continued from [x]

Frenchie had been inconsolable at Izzy's side, trying anything he could to talk to the man he loved. Trying to will him to stay awake and with him. That he needed him. When the first mate had closed his eyes, hand falling from his cheek, Frenchie had cried out and buried his face against Izzy's chest. Sobbing uncontrollably.

He didn't know whether it was seconds, minutes or more before he was being pulled back and away from Izzy and he tried desperately to cling on to him. But Auntie forced her way through as several of the others wrapped their arms around Frenchie. Comforting and holding him back as Auntie pulled something out of a pouch and worked on Izzy's wound.

Everything that had happened next had been a blur to Frenchie. He knew people spoke to him, could hear their voices in the distance but nothing reached his ears. He felt numb all over. Nothing was right. Nothing could be, not with Izzy like this. not when he could still lose him.

Izzy had been moved into the Captains quarters and onto Stede (and Ed's) bunk, both men insisting that he had the best place possible to hopefully recover. No one had even tried to get Frenchie to leave him.

The sofa had been pulled to the bedside for Frenchie to use and the bard had taken Izzy's hand in his and refusing to let go.

When Izzy awoke, Frenchie was practically wrapped around his arm with his head on his shoulder. Having cried himself to sleep.

The moment the hoarse voice spoke, Frenchie opened his eyes. Blinking and rubbing away dried tears from tearstained cheeks as he raised his head. The moment he saw Izzy's eyes, he practically jumped off of the sofa and to his feet. Hovering over him. Breath caught within his lungs and heart stilled in anticipation and hope.

"Iz.....?"

[seadcgs]

he doesn't know how to tell ben. how the best way would be to tell him. his husband isn't dumb, he'll definitely start noticing, soon. and also wondering why he wasn't wearing his leather jacket, as much. or drinking. has half a mind to take one of the small child toys, he'd made for sprout, and put it on ben's pillow, as a hint.

there's also another thing, he has to tell him, besides all of this. about....his time, at sea. aboard a real, actual pirate ship. about his relationships there....and what, or rather, who, came from them. now's as good'a time as any, brewster. ben's yours, now. you gotta be able to tell him these things.

caleb opted to wait until dinnertime. that way, he knows that if ben gets upset, it wouldn't be on an empty stomach. he's glad it was proper stew, this time, and not the bread and beans that they'd had for nigh on a week, now. the light of the fire lit up his face, and bens; he looks at it for a moment, empty bowl still in hand.

free hand rises up to grab the gold wedding band on a chain around his neck; squeezing it and sliding it around, a bit, for confidence. or maybe as a reminder.

❝ hey, tallboy. i, uh---gotta tell ya, somethin'. somethin'....i probably should'a told ya 'while ago, but----didn't know how t'bring up. ❞

@pyratezlife knows what this is. also anne istg if you stop your work to reply to this im disowning u

[seafavoured]

❛ can’t sleep? ❜ @pyratezlife / silver.

𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐃 𝐔𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐘 𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐀 𝐌𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑, 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐒𝐎 𝐌𝐔𝐂𝐇 𝐀𝐒 𝐀 𝐓𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐂𝐇 𝐓𝐎 𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐘 𝐇𝐈𝐌. as if pretending would perhaps drive away the man whose weight he could feel upon the bunk adjacent him. whose gaze he could feel boring a hole into the side of his face as he slept. or, well, didn't. at last, a sigh escaped him and a single brow quirked, but his eyes remained RESOLUTELY shut a moment longer.

just a moment more to shut out the world and feign himself removed from its torments. alas, the torments came from within as well, and would suffer no ignorance to their damage.

❛ what on earth gave you that idea? ❜ positively deadpanned, like the crack of a whip. one eye creaked open, followed begrudgingly by the other. darkness still SHROUDED the room, broken only by meagre spills of moonlight from the grubby panes of glass. they caught upon the man's curls ... silver, where the brown was illuminated in that cool glow. beautiful, in the way a ghost must be. save that silver was real, was tangible, and was sat with his lower back flush to flint's thigh.

❛ you came here last night as well, and the one before. either my performance is growing less convincing, or you're becoming more observant. ❜ he stated the knowledge as the fact it was, and without any brokerage for argument. still, the annoyance he had expected to needle his tone simply ... wasn't there. had evaporated in the sea breeze at the WARM PRESS of contact. ❛ so i take it, i'm not the only one who can't sleep. ❜ a statement, not a question.

a beat of silence, and then, ❛ if you're going to make a habit of it, you may as well bunk in here for a bit. ❜ he propped himself up on an elbow and looked up at silver. something new but not entirely foreign was budding betwixt his ribs.

[izzyeffinhands]

❝ i think i have a new purpose in my life. to be with you. ❞ - stede

“ That’s nice. “

Izzy mumbled to himself as he hasn’t really been paying attention. He’d spotted a bit of rigging out of place and he’d been messing with the ropes. But then it hit him hard, like a ton of bricks. He turned around in a sort of confusion.

“ Wait. What? “

[krakensmaw]

“ don’t go. stay. “ @pyratezlife / jack.

𝐈𝐓 𝐇𝐀𝐃 𝐁𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐊𝐒. 𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐊𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐍𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐋𝐘 𝐀𝐕𝐎𝐈𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐍 𝐁𝐎𝐀𝐑𝐃, weeks of tension and casual hostility that bled slowly to grief. mourning, for something he'd never really even had. a gut wrenching, hollow chasm which swelled against their ribs and could not be ignored. to see him in passing a hundred times a day was A HUNDRED little pinpricks of pain ; couldn't approach, couldn't reach out and touch, or laugh together, or even shoot the shit.

should've known they couldn't AVOID one another forever while aboard the same vessel ... he had entered the store room, humming, only to see jack already in there and stopped short. fuck. the one time they hadn't bothered to check who was scheduled for supplies inventory with him. blanching, ed nearly turned on heel and marched straight back out of that room, captain hornigold be damned. 'til jack's gruff, monosyllabic request hit their ears.

WHEN HAD THEY EVER DENIED HIM ?

the things he wanted to say : fuck you. i hate you. i love you. did your wounds all heal? do you miss me? he stamped them all down and entered fully, busied himself with work. crouched to count the storage chest like they gave TWO SHITS.

[indestructiblelittlefuckers]

@pyratezlife plotted kissing starter

Everything is almost ready, there is no going back now. And there shouldn't be. Hornigold had hurt them enough, he was a horrible Captain. And everything would change tomorrow for Ed's life too, if everything went according to plan, Ed would become Captain. Or none of this would work, half the crew would change their minds and Hornigold would kill them all, or well, him and Izzy... and that asshole did not lack imagination.

If he didn't know Izzy's footsteps, he would have been startled, he was already on edge. But he knows Izzy well enough by now, so he barely turns his head ❝ Hey. ❞ Ed takes a sip of his rum and hands the bottle to Izzy ❝ You sure you wanna do this tomorrow? Could go... very wrong. ❞

[avastyetwats]

Plotted starter for @pyratezlife

He was exhausted.

Their last raid had been a success, though it had taken some time to go through everything they secured, but it had finally gotten done. He did hate that he couldn't move as fast as he used to for obvious reasons, but he didn't let it stop him. He didn't let it take away from his responsibilities as First Mate to the Captain(s), but he did, however, get better about accepting help when it was offered. Not just because it did make things easier, but because they were a crew. A family. And now more than he ever did, Izzy knew what that meant.

Fuckin' Stede Bonnet. He curses, though there's a fond smile on his face thinking about him and what he brought, not only to Izzy's life, but to the entire crew's. Izzy never thought he'd respect Stede fuckin' Bonnet of all people, but he did. He was thankful for the bastard and he was getting better about not showing it just for him, but for the entire crew as well.

After all, they saved his life. More than once, the fuckin' twats. Again, he thinks it with a fondness. With gratitude.

With love.

He really was going fucking soft, wasn't he? It was almost maddening.

Emerging from the cabin, he's greeted with warm sunlight that has Izzy smiling, standing there for a moment to soak it in. And then he hears it.

Music.

It's quiet and calming and familiar and after a few moments of standing there, listening to it while standing in the warm sun, he makes his way to the man that's sat against the side of the ship, fingers gently thrumming against the strings, creating such pleasant and calming sounds that Izzy has grown to love more and more each time he heard it. Ever since the night of Calypso's birthday, really. When Frenchie was kind enough to play for Izzy while he sang for the crew.

A night he would remember forever.

He stands and listens to Frenchie play for a few seconds again and only when Frenchie stops does Izzy speak. "Never did ask you how long you've been playing that for." He's genuinely interested in knowing, making an effort to know more about his crew, about his family that he's grown close to. Especially Frenchie whom Izzy has taken a strong liking to recently, a growing admiration and interest, but it isn't something he's made known... for reasons. "Don't think I even ever thanked you for playing for me that night." He leans against a nearby barrel, small circular wooden object in one hand and a knife in the other, digging the tip of the knife into the center before he turns it over and starts to whittle away.

[littleseabird]

@pyratezlife ( calico jack ) said ❛ come back to bed. ❜

No, she wouldn't come to bed. No after what she dreamt. She wouldn't. The vivid flashes of imagery of a flying cannonball hitting a man in a dinghy. She saw ships around too but couldn't make them out. She saw no face on the man but she knew who it was. He was dead. Above him was a seagull staring at her. Squawking about a dead lover. Was this a sign or just another regular dream? These days she couldn't even tell the difference anymore. They seem blurred and that worried her. False signs worried her, so she took most of the dreams she had serious and tried to unravel them. Find their deeper meaning. This one was just ... odd.

"I can't sleep. I had a weird dream and --." she replied, standing up to look up at the starlit sky from the window. Maybe she could find the answers there amongst them? She turned to Jack, staring at him in the bed. " -- it was about you." her voice waivered and she frowned to him. She wouldn't go into details about what she saw. He'd think it's dumb or pretty silly -- but it shook her. As odd as the dream was and unrealistic it could mean anything. Then dead lover part threw her because the man hit by the cannonball was Jack.

[audaciiae]

@pyratezlife

As the light of the morning filters in through the curtains, Conall covers his eyes, letting out a slightly irritated noise. It's rare that he gets a proper night's sleep, even rarer that he wakes up with a pounding headache. Good god, he must've drank enough to kill any other man, with the way he can feel the blood rushing in his ears. He grumbles, pulls the blankets over his head and...

Hm, this isn't his bed, is it? No, no. It definitely isn't. Whatever hangover might have had a grip on him suddenly seems to leave him as he has the realization. It's not unusual for Conall to fall into the beds of men, any man that he deems useful, attractive, or both. But he has to wonder...there's been one man in particular he's had his eye on...

He sits up, instantly recognizing the mess of brown hair next to him, and that damn braid. It could only be John Andre, and Conall grins to himself. I said I must have him, and have him I did.

As he looks over the sleeping man, a strange wave of affection washes over him. It's gone as quickly as it comes, as Conall doesn't like to linger on these kinds of things, but he reaches over, gently resting a hand on John's shoulder. "John..." he murmurs, leaning down to press a kiss to the back of his neck. "Good morning, darling. It's time to wake up, don't you think?"

[blackflcgs]

pyratezlife said: ❝ nothing special, of course. you’re only the first person who i truly care for. ❞ (izzy)

When Ed laughs, he's grinning like the cat who caught the canary. "You're only sayin' that cause I've just blown your mind apart." He's delighted about it too and more than a little smug, keeping Izzy pinned with his eyes from where Ed's stretched out still nude on the bed.

"Probably shouldn't have, on account of all the bitching you did about the room in the first place." Yeah, so it was extravagant expense but it's fucking shore leave and Edward doesn't give a fuck. Quietly jerking each other off under a blanket in Izzy's hammock had been hot exactly the first time it'd happened. Sure Edward's still into it, but fuck he needs a little romance where he can get it.

He rolls onto his back and shifts until his head is pillowed on Izzy's thigh. "C'mon, don't be a dick, Iz. Admit I was right about the room."

@pyratezlife

[cabbxges-and-kings]

( A.be W.oodhull ; closed starter )

        𝐒𝐢𝐝𝐞-𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐠𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐞𝐱𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞. Even if the British had been long gone, marched out to the sea they washed in from, Abraham was still paranoid. Eight long years he was never going to get back, spying for Washington, and despite all the challenges he faced, Abraham didn’t regret it one bit. With how long it had been, Abraham was going to deal with some repercussions from the war, maybe more than most people.

        Sweat ran down his neck as he leaned over his harvest, picking up each cabbage he planted one by one. It was a successful harvest, producing much more cabbage than he truly knew what to deal with.

        Pieces of cabbage leaves clung under his boot and dirt coated his hands to the wrists, tossing every bundle of cabbage into the wagon beside him. When he stood up, wiping his sweaty grimy hands onto the knees of his pants, he nearly toppled over when he turned around. Rogers stood with his cold stare and a shit-eating grin, transporting him back to the war.

        ❝ What are you doing here? ❞ Abe asked, his voice winded as he stepped back, his eyes wide. ❝ I thought you left with the British? ❞ What little Abe knew of him, he understood Rogers wasn’t wanted in the colonies. He wouldn’t have holed himself up in his root cellar for so long, wary of British troops in the area. All logical reasoning left him as his chest tightened, glancing over at his homestead that appeared untouched.

@pyratezlife

[vocesincaput]

🎲 (my jim, your izzy - i have no hesitations XD)

kiss roulette

inspired by the infamous "i want the k" meme by deactivated tumblr user tastcful. send 🎲 to generate a kiss! potential suggestive/nsf.w themes may appear. 12. A kiss along the collar bone

When he had first boarded the Revenge and met them, Izzy would have never imagined this would be how the two of them would end up. They had hated him, he was sure of it. The whole crew had. They had had every right to. Even Izzy could admit he had been an asshole.

But here they still were....

Tangled up in the small bed together. The rising sun slowly beginning to beam in through the open window. Blanket barely covering them, having been almost completely kicked off during the night due to the overwhelming heat.

Izzy's chest was rising and falling slowly as he lay looking up at the ceiling. Contemplating how they had gotten to that point. A half sleepy, half contented smile upon his lips as he turned his head and looked at a sleeping Jim beside him. The corners of his lips twitched up a little further as he looked at them, hand reaching up to brush ever so lightly against their cheek. Surprising himself with the gentle touch.

He couldn't get over how they looked in their sleep. It made something swell within Izzy's chest that he tried to force down but it refused. There had always been something about Jim that he hadn't been able to put his finger on. That feeling had developed into something Izzy hadn't wanted to admit to, couldn't admit to. Not with all the things he had been going through.

But now... now, after they had found each other.... things were different...

Memories of the previous night came floating back to Izzy and his smile grew even more. He then surprised himself again as he shifted onto his side carefully and leant in to kiss Jim's jaw. Slowly shifting his lips to below their ear, their neck until they began to shift over the others collarbone. Hand finding its way to the others hip as he continued. Moustache brushing against their skin with each slow and languid kiss.

Things had definitely changed.

[seadcgs]

❝ you ready? ❞ he doesn't know if he was; caleb hadn't seen ben in what seemed like a long time. worried that he would forget about him, in his fancy school, in york city. but he never forgot about ben---how could he? ben was his first love, the one that he would always come back to. and now, he was rowing him, and his other lover, ed, across the sound to port george----going to meet ben in york city.

of course, they'd had to sneak away, from where the ship was docked; taking one of the lifeboats and rowing silently; hoping no one would notice. he'd sent off a letter to ben, arranging the when and where of their meeting. he just hopes, hopes that ben would like ed---and vice versa. ❝ it's been....a long time, since i've seen ben. he might look all fancy an' shite, but i promise, he's just a small-town boy at heart. ❞

@krakensmaw @pyratezlife here's the meeting threadddd finally.

[seafavoured]

❛ what is it you want this time? ❜ (blackrose, dnd, perhaps more smug smug smug after ed shows up at his door a second time lmao). @pyratezlife / ned.

𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐒 𝐇𝐀𝐃 𝐇𝐄 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍 𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐃 𝐔𝐏 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄, 𝐈𝐍 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐍𝐄𝐃'𝐒 𝐃𝐎𝐎𝐑 ? because he certainly didn't recall making a conscious effort to do so, and yet, here they were. he'd been lying in his own lovely, four poster bed for what felt like hours, trying desperately to will his mind and body to sleep. it was the most comfortable they'd been in months, with all the accommodations of ned's tower. so why did they have an easier time resting atop the cold, hard ground in the middle of a danger ridden forest?

everything in their room was perfect : a comfortable mattress strewn with soft pillows and fine, silk sheets, his favourite elderberry wine chilled by the desk with an assortment of sweets that looked as though they were straight from the bakery in that last quaint little town. the one edward had fawned over for their blackberry tarts and fresh bread. even the high ceiling of the room seemed to meld to an ever shifting canvas of stars, as if the night's sky were captured right here in this room. they had been saying just this morning how hard they found it to fall asleep without the twinkling little pinpricks of light above.

but no amount of luxury could help when their thoughts ran an endless gauntlet through their head. memories they would rather not focus on, no matter how ... pleasant. he'd eventually risen in frustration and left to stroll the maze of corridors, aimless. at least, that was the intent. apparently somewhere down the line, his feet had carried him straight to ned's door, where his fist deigned to knock.

they stood blinking at ned through the open doorway, like a deer caught in the headlights. hells, what the fuck was he doing here? why had they come? heat flushed his cheeks a deep plum hue as he bristled, horribly conscious of their bedhead and smalls and rumpled sleep shirt. ❛ nothing ! ❜ they cringed. it was said too quick, in a knee jerk reaction of self defense. suddenly rankled and on edge, wishing he'd at least redressed in his leathers before going for a midnight walk in the tower.

❛ nothing. why do i have to want something, just to come say hello? because i don't want anything, that is. ❜ they might as well have come equipped with a shovel, for the godsdamned hole he was digging. fingertips twisted idly in the loose linen of their shirt, his other hand carding through that mess of dark hair. ❛ why, what do you want? ❜ accusatory, as if they weren't the one to come knocking in the first place. ❛ because it certainly seems like you're trying for something, plying me with gifts like that. you don't need to give me special treatment, just because we fucked one time. ❜

[izzyeffinhands]

🎲 (your choice!!)

2. A kiss on the nose

“ You’ve gotta stop wiggling your nose if you want me to contour it properly, love. “ Izzy said firmly and teasingly to Jim as he held a brush in his hand and they sat in his quarters. Izzy had.. found himself again. He found that little boy in the brothel that drew all day long once again and drag helped him express that artistry once more. Not that he wasn’t still an artist. Where did they think Ed’s tattoos came from? A bloody shop by the sea? Fuck no. Ed had trusted his skin only to him, something he could still bond with him over to this day. After all, where did the others think the x came from? And the swallow on his throat when he hit the 5,000 nautical miles? That was Edward’s own hand.

Drag night had simply become a weekly tradition on this safe space ship. And though Jim was stunning that night he sang for the crew the first time, they still had insisted on being painted to the gods by Izzy. He had a talent for it, and thanks to his drag mother, Calypso, he’d only become more sensational at it. Hell, he was painting up most of the crew now.

He laughed softly. A rare thing from him, but he trusted Jim. Jim was the one that reached out and protected him when Ed lost his fucking mind. Fang did too, but even when he’d first met the crew of The Revenge, Jim was the only capable pirate. He could have actual conversations with them, and Jim didn’t seem to mind when he needed a good cry in private either. He was laughing because they’d wiggled their nose again, and Izzy was shaking his head.

“ You’ll get used to it.. the tickle of the brush. But you’re fucking up my lines, darling. “ And with that, he leaned forward and softly kissed the tip of their nose.

@pyratezlife

[krakensmaw]

why are we at a poor person's restaurant ? @pyratezlife / ned.

𝐀𝐋𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓, 𝐒𝐎 𝐌𝐀𝐘𝐁𝐄 𝐀 𝐃𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐁𝐀𝐑 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐁𝐑𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐀 𝐁𝐈𝐓 𝐌𝐔𝐂𝐇 𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇. but ed had always been about ripping the band-aid off quick, no mercy. brown eyes rolled to the ceiling and back ; were liable to get stuck up there one of these days, if they kept hanging 'round ned fucking low.

❛ it's called a pub, you fuckin' aristocrat. ❜ couldn't really be considered as such, with food that was barely fit for consumption and backwater booze so strong it'd put you under for days. ed ought to know : they had spent years playing at this joint when their career was but a FLEDGLING'S FANTASY. now, it was the only place left 'round these parts where he could grab a drink without throngs of fans mobbing him. or worse, the hopefuls preening them for clout.

he slipped into a bar stool and swiveled to face ned, an elbow propped atop the counter behind and long legs splayed. ❛ you've got the skills, i'll give you that. GODDAMN, those fingers can work. ❜ made them wonder what else they could do, given the opportunity. ❛ but you don't got the vibe, man. figured it'd help if you could see where MY MUSIC comes from. ❜

two glasses thudded down for them with a grunt of acknowledgement from the tender ; some house special, vaguely brown in colour. he winked up at ned with a crooked, cheshire grin. nudged the next stool with a boot. ❛ your throne, your majesty. ❜