insert the ‘our muses share a tense moment’ meme here @ Hume! [ im mobile so I can’t copy symbols rip ]

“I was following orders!” The words gasped from him as his back slammed forcefully against the wall, impressing one of his hidden weapons uncomfortably against his spine and making him arch in a rather provocative manner in order to alleviate the pressure. McGraw was inches from his face, fury blazing in mismatched eyes, looking for all the world the demon he had created in Flint.

Taking a breath, Graham raised his hands and set them to the man’s wrists – a placating action, rather than a volatile one – knowing that violence on his part would only make this situation worse – and if he was to believe Billy ( which he did, he held no doubt in a man as steadfast and loyal as he ) then getting “Flint” on his side would prove instrumental in securing Nassau against invasion.

“I swear, it is no lie I tell you. He is alive, I delivered him myself to the plantation – he was made to be buried, for the sake of Alfred’s reputation but the Rowes wouldn’t stand for it. His own uncle handed him off to me – I promise you. Killing me won’t get you to him, damnit!”

insert the ‘keep my muse anchored’ meme here for Abigail! [ flint is a reassurance lad Let Him Help ;; ]

Even as Abigail felt her legs giving out from under her, a firm arm clasped around her shoulders and held her fast to an ever familiar form – helping her find the ground painlessly as she let herself sink to her knees in grief raked raw in the wake of what had occurred at the tavern where she did her additional work in between novels and their royalties.

It had been too much, to see a familiar face – to recognize a man her father had worked with in this place, which had come to mean something like home to her. She knew that the black mark upon her own name was only one arrest away from being branded to her skin, if not to lead directly to the gallows swing. The terror that had filled her at the sight of a man who had never been anything but unfailingly kind to her was absolute proof that her life had changed irrevocably since Charlestown.

She shook, turning and burying her face against the leather of Flint’s coat, anchoring herself with the knowledge that she was safe here, in this house. Assuring herself that between Flint and the Hamiltons, no harm could possibly come to her. They’d never allow it, surely they wouldn’t!

💨 catch my muse in a lie | William to Hume

{ Random Acts }

Ah – now, either word had finally reached the admiralty that the Scarborough and her entire crew had gone rogue, or Lieutenant Bush was even more observant than Graham had ever granted him credit for. Regardless, the accusation hung heavily in the air between them – and his dismissal of it had been met with sharp enough disdain that he knew himself to be caught out. Still –

“We appear to be at an impasse, lieutenant,” He offered quietly, clearly reluctant to be the first to strike. Though it had not been for long, Bush had been stationed on the Scarborough in the past – back when he had been a fourth lieutenant, though now he had climbed his way up the rungs to second, and good on him for that. He was a steady sailor, and his heart had always been an honest one.

Despite the shortness of their work together, and the distance travelled since, Graham considered William Bush to be part of his flock – and he could not in good conscience see harm done to him. “May I ask what it is you intend to do?” The crew were too many for Bush to arrest him in this bar – and they could be well under way by the time he raised the alarm, but the fighting would be brutal once it was engaged, and Graham would see that avoided if he could.

💨 catch my muse in a lie | Edward to Hume

{ Random Acts }

A genuine chill crept down Graham’s spine when Captain Pellew abruptly dismissed his excuse – there was no urgent business to attend at this time, not under the admiralty. Propriety would not think of it outside of the most terrible of circumstances, and a man senior in his command would surely be more involved than a newly minted captain.

Straightening his spine and praying he could clear away any suspicion toward the lieutenant whose bed he had just left, he attempted again with a simple and curt, “It was of a personal nature, sir. Forgive me – I had not meant to insinuate otherwise.”

💨 catch my muse in a lie | Cutler to Jack

{ Random Acts }

“I will shoot!” Jack insisted hotly, even knowing he was caught out. He kept his pistol level for a moment more, staring into those wide eyes and trying not to feel disconcerted by how unaffected they were. There was no fear in that gaze, but it didn’t come from Beckett’s certainty that Jack was harmless. Rather, it came from the sort of deadness only the truly shattered could properly achieve, and it was an eerie sight on a man who was so fucking sure of himself.

Clicking the safety back in place, Jack lowered his weapon with an irate growl. “Oh – bugger off,” He stepped back, not wanting to be any closer than he had to be to the man. “Crew’s ordered not to touch you,” He reminded him gruffly, “So get out of my sight, if you please.”

❝ Sorry. I don’t always listen when you talk. ❞ | BILLY TO HUME

{ Galavant Starters }

“So I gathered, Mister Bones,” Graham intoned with no small measure of exasperation. Yes, he had done his reconnaissance on this man now, stubborn creature that he was. He had already asked if the man believed – truly – that the men he was presently so determined to protect would ever do the same for him. That if granted the opportunity to return to their old lives, to flourish underneath legitimacy, they would not turn on their fellows in a minute.

What had been curious about this was the fact the man seemed rather unbothered by the reality of the fact that many would do that. It seemed that Billy “Bones” – there was no way that was actually his surname – was not harboring any illusions that his “brothers” would all invariably do the same. Rather, he seemed determined to hold true and steady for those who held the same belief in the flag of rebellious equality as he did, and that was good enough.

He was loyal, of that there was no doubt. Yet surely, a man as doggedly protective as this one had something he would rather fight for than men who would betray him as soon as it became convenient to do so. The trick was finding it – if he could do that, it would be better than breaking him. A man willing would always be better than a man shattered – and frankly, Graham preferred to avoid torture unless there was absolutely no option through civil means left.

“I think I am beginning to understand you, all the same,” He announced then, taking a seat across from the chair his prisoner was presently chained upon, “I think the reason you are so determined to stand true to these people is because you have nothing else to be loyal to – no home left behind that you feel can be regained, no life that can be returned to. So you hold to what you know – to who you know, even if it means they betray you in the end, because without them you don’t know how to define yourself or where to direct that protective nature of yours.”

Sighing – because he knew if he said too much he would lose the man again – Graham leaned forward and set the trap. “I think you could benefit from protecting those who would do the same for you – and I also think that those you are especially determined to protect would accept pardons if you were the one to present them. Would it not be better to legitimize your friends and start doing something with your life that doesn’t leave you and yours at constant risk of the noose? Or does your loyalty only extend so far – does it not account for the quality in which they live, but only the mitigation of how they may die?”

When you’re small, you don’t have very far to fall. | Cutler to Jack in tentverse v2

{ Little Dark Age }

Looking down at the man before him, Jack cannot help but feel – responsible for the state of him. Without his wig, he had sprouted a halo of soft near-curls that were strangely cherubic on his porcelain features. It presented an innocence he knew for a fact this man did not possess a whit of, but there was no denying that he looked small here.

Divested of his riches and his grandeur, Cutler Beckett was but a delicate man in a world too rough for him to navigate without dent or damage – and while he may not be innocent, there was no denying that he was vulnerable. Which – despite all that had come to pass – Jack found to be a distasteful outcome.

Perhaps if he had held on to some of that customary arrogance, it would have been easier to accept, but as it was Jack found himself glancing around and taking in the tiny empire this man had built for himself with naught but a tent in the sand. There was no questioning how he was getting by, that much was certain – but Jack did not think for one moment that the means of survival was the source of the humility before him now.

After a moment of consideration, Jack offered out his arm. “They say misery loves company,” He offered, sporting a charming grin a moment, then, “Last I was here, I may have caused a bit of a situation.” That was one way to word sacking an entire city without firing a single shot, alright. “Folks won’t cause me any trouble, but they also won’t be making very good company. I could use some entertainment about as much as you could stomach a meal, I wager.”

It wasn’t that Jack wasn’t used to paying for company – so much as it wasn’t so much the company he tended to be shelling out for. In this case, however, he felt it fair to make a small exception.

❝ All you need to be pirates is a dark heart and a wicked disregard for other people’s lives. ❞ | Cutler to Jack slkjf oh dear

{ Galavant Starters }

“You’re talkin’ rogues, mate,” Eyes narrowed as surely as his voice had taken grasp of a darker cadence, Jack considered detailing precisely what it took to be a pirate, but in the end he opted to step in close and sway forward, pitching his words low to better ensure that Becket clung upon every word. “And you best be thanking whatever it is a grubby little monkey like you prays to that it be pirates were the ones to fish your rotten flesh out of those waters, mark me.”

He leaned back then, his arm raising up sudden and sharp, as if to slap – but he turned it, stopping shortly before Cutler’s very nose with the hideous rise of flesh in the shape of a P bared between them. “In my experience,” A false brightness, a dangerous sort of pleasantness seeping into his tone now, charming as a snake, “All it takes is a man with a dark heart and a wicked disregard for people’s lives to make a pirate.”

🖤 for a kiss on a wound (bruise, scar, etc.) | Joji to Abigail

{ Random Acts }

The early morning sun was streaming in through the window, the curtains still open from the night before to invite in the cool air after a day so hot it had felt as if every motion created sweat and weariness in its wake. Some time after midnight, it had chilled to the point Abigail had woken up pressed up tightly against Joji and shivering just a little beneath the blanket she realized he must have dragged over her while she slept.

Now, she found herself lazing in the sun and enjoying the warmth as it spread along her shoulders, watching her lover as he pressed kisses against the marks that had tormented her so deeply, before his gaze had found them. She saw them differently now – covered as they were in his touch, healed again and again by the certainty of his kisses.

It was hard to hate anything he could love so steadily – and there was never a doubt in her, about his feelings toward them. That they were a part of the whole of her made them as worthy of his affections as anything else that made up who she was – and he didn’t have to tell her for her to learn and accept that to be true. He showed her, each and every day, ways to see the world through his eyes – and the more she looked, the more she found she could find the truth and the lies.

His hair brushed over her knee then, and a soft laugh escaped her at the sensation – ticklish as ever – as she reached down and gripped his shoulder, encouraging him to join her at the top of the bed. She had work soon enough, and she wanted to spend as much of her early morning in his arms as she could get away with.

‘ don’t you dare. ’ | Cutler to Jack – IDK ABOUT CONTEXT BUT HE ABSOLUTELY SQUEAKED

{ Devotion Of Suspect X }

“You’re in no position to negotiate, mate,” Jack waved his hand, and in an instant, Ragetti and Pintel had Beckett’s arms pinned to his sides. There was a nasty grin on Pintel’s face that left Jack more than a little uneasy – the man was still too much Barbossa’s for comfort – the sooner the Pearl was docked with Greene’s fleet, the better he would be for it. An honest crew would be quite the sore and welcome thing after so much of this mutiny business.

“You want us to gut ‘im for ya, boss?” Pintel inquired, all too eager with the idea of spilling guts across the deck of the Pearl. Jack wrinkled his nose at him, “What? No! Deck’s just been swabbed,” He pointed out as reason enough, “Toss him over – he’s gotten a bit ripe.”

As if uncertain, Ragetti leaned in and sniffed at Beckett, rearing back with a look that was comically startled. “See?” Jack’s tone was pleased, warm from amusement and vindication. “And you know what I think of that, don’t you lads?”

Ragetti started to chuckle, knowing where this was going, and Pintel stared, his face twisted in an impression set to make a gargoyle cry. Jack rose his brows, leading the older of the two to groan, “You don’t mean for us to go with him, do you captain?” Suddenly it didn’t sound as fun as it had a moment ago.

In answer, Jack made a shooing motion, and Ragetti began pulling Beckett toward the edge. “Its a good day for a swim,” The musing was remarkably good natured, and Jack smiled a little – though he was certain to Beckett, it brought absolutely no comfort to see paired with a little wave as Pintel hauled as well to get the reluctant man on the edge of the ship.

“Have fun!” He chimed, just as the deck rocked in the wake of a wave, and all three of them tumbled in. Judging from the yowl of outrage, Pintel had not been at all ready for it. Jack looked around, before waving over Moriarty, who was kind enough to bring the bucket containing cloths and a small chunk of soap and lower it, too, over the edge of the ship.