Mun Note: This is an excerpt from a piece done on Discord with @tidefated, in which Charles is discussing how he met Jack Rackham and Anne Bonny, and as he is not the best story teller it has – a certain charm to it that I feel my usual headcanon voice doesn’t capture.

This is the raw form, of Charles himself sharing the tale. It was prompted by someone noting the dramatically different personalities of the trio, and a seeming curiosity on how the dynamic could have formed.

He could tell the man was digging, if subtly. Charles debated internally, before he spoke rather honestly on the topic. “He’s got Anne. They’re a package deal – you don’t get one without the other, and it was Anne who caught my attention first. She was quiet, silent as a fucking grave, but she had these eyes,” He raised his hand to his own, pointed off with two fingers as if indicating something. “Eyes that looked wide and wild at the world, and I recognized them. I’d seen eyes like that before, so I sent a test. Sent a man toward what looked like her weak spot.”

He looked over at Edward then, even as he confessed, “Jack could have died the same day I saw him, for what I saw in those eyes, if I’d been wrong. But I wasn’t. Never seen a girl kill a man so efficiently in my life. And Jack? Damn fuck didn’t even move. Just watched, and when she was done, got up, checked the man over—and walked right on up to me like somehow that body told him everything. Asked me what I wanted, bold as fucking brass. Said I needed crew. He said, lucky me. They needed a ship.”

Charles huffed again, looking back, the fondness in his features genuine despite the stark nature of the tale. “Since then, I can’t say how many times Anne’s killed for the crew. Killed for me, or for Jack. But I can say Jack’s got a way of winning wars without fighting. He can make the most dogged of fucks listen. He’s saved people a lot of time, a lot of energy. He saves lives with that wit of his. Pulled me back from some wild shit over the years. Helped me find my feet when I didn’t want to stand anymore."

Charles fell quiet then, before shrugging a little. "He’s got the wit to run real business, to go legit, but he doesn’t. He doesn’t cause Anne’s running from something, and until she’s ready to stop, Jack’ll stay on the account, and in some strange way, protect her just like she protects him.”

Mun Note: Seeing as I have mentioned bits of this at various points to the people who write with him ( @intolerablexsacrifice & @tidefated ) it occurs to me I should make an official notation of it all for them and the (3) other people I write with so that everyone has the same particulars xD;

Charles had a very stable upbringing – at least until he was kidnapped at the age of seven and taken to the docks where he would be sold to Albinus and made to work as a slave until he managed to escape at the age of twenty. His parents were not noble, but they did make a modest living as merchants and were particularly doting on their one and only child. Today, he has no recollection of them but a vague lullaby of his mother’s and an awareness his father always smelled distinctly of mint and tobacco.

When he escaped, he survived for seven months in the jungle on his own, living off the land and picking off scouts and guards that got too close to his hunting grounds. The searches for him never ceased, and his ability to evade them was sure to run out sooner rather than later when Teach observed him and managed to lure the rather wild youth out.

It was through a liberated slave who served under Teach that they were able to communicate, as at that point Charles only spoke in Papiamento – he understood English and Spanish perfectly well, but did not trust those who spoke it predominantly and viewed them as dangerous ( for good reason )

Ultimately convinced to join Teach, Charles gained a lot of his understanding on how to socialize with free peoples through his time under the esteemed pirate. He spent eight years under that man’s flag, and in that time Teach tamed a good deal of his wilder edges – molding him into a protege with expert and discerning hands.

It was through Teach that Charles learned not only how to socialize properly, but also how to read and write – starting these lessons at the age of twenty-one, his rudimentary capabilities are remarkable when one considers how difficult these skills are too acquire past certain ages. Though Charles had begun some lessons prior to his kidnapping, it is uncertain how much of that was retained when he was being taught later in life.

Though he can read, Charles is very slow and – when he has to read aloud – it is notable that he still appears to sound out the words, and to pause if he is uncertain. He will sound it out in his head until he remembers hearing the word, before pronouncing it – the longer the pause, the more complicated the word tends to be phonetically.

Charles attributes the man he is today largely to Teach, which was why betraying him after eight years under his wing was not a choice he made lightly. Freedom for others like himself and a place where that freedom could be sustained permanently was something he aspired towards – and his sense of duty to his fellow slaves and those who were crippled by slavers and civilization was not a sentiment wholly shared by Teach, nor was the idea that a sustainable society could be created for such persons.

Eleanor Guthrie was an educated and ambitious woman whose morals appeared to align with Charles’ own – and whose understanding of things like politics, diplomacy and maneuvering were traits he recognized as requirements he lacked for building such a thing himself. He was perfectly aware that she needed him in order to establish herself – he was also perfectly aware that he needed her to establish his goals.

Betraying Teach was done not by a man besotted by a girl but rather by a man who made a logical choice – for while he certainly did love Eleanor, at that point he was also not unaware that she was manipulating him. So long as he too was gaining, there seemed to him little issue in a romance based on mutually aligned goals and uses.

Eight years after this choice, Charles had by then committed himself so completely to Nassau and – by extension – to Eleanor’s ideas on how to make Nassau self-sustaining, that the idea of leaving her was anathema. If he gave up on her and on Nassau then what did he betray Teach for to begin with? Stubbornness was a very strong motivator to him, even when it became clear again and again that Eleanor saw him as a tool to be picked up and discarded at her convenience.

Yet it is also due to this intimate awareness that Charles can be redirected, especially if there is a possibility to build something better without her – or to take part in something already established that is by very definition, exactly what he seeks.

So TL;DR, Charles timeline is:

00-07: Normal, loving upbringing
07-20: Enslaved
20-21: Escaped / living wild / first months with Teach
20-28: Serving under Teach
28-35: Events prior to season one, starting with betraying Teach
36-38: Events of the show, up to his death

😶 – Quietly lean against my muse [ for Vane, in That Verse, RIP ]

{ Touch Starved Meme }

The dynamic between himself and Flint had shifted dramatically since Charlestown – though nothing from that point could have indicated to him that matters would culminate into what they were now. It was like two tigers that had held territorial dispute for years, only for one of them to get caught in a poacher’s trap and the other to inherit everything. Yet unable to leave it’s fellow to die, it began looking after it – defending and caring for it – until its old rival was in fact a brother, a comrade it would defend to the last breath.

The wounded one hadn’t lost its claws – it was still as strong and as terrible as ever – but it was slower to engage. Quieter than it used to be, less interested in the things that used to be exciting, less engaged in the things it ought to do in order to survive. It could recover – but so long as it was too hurt inside to overcome the attack, it needed another – and moments like these, when Flint leaned on him in silence like an old friend, were indicators that the hurt was still bleeding somewhere deep within.

Charles did not draw away – nor did he draw any particular attention to the contact between them beyond a slight lean of his own, increasing the solidity of their position. Silently assuring that so long as Flint needed strength, he could rely on Charles to provide it whenever he was present.

The book in the other’s hand had fallen lax, and seemed to be drooping toward the floor. Quietly, he reached out and collected it, glancing to see if the man was awake or if he had fallen asleep. From the glassy stare, Charles deduced he was somewhere in between both and turned the book over in his hand, peering grimly at the pages before him.

Teach had taught him letters, the art of reading and writing. It was not his strength, but Rackham made him keep up on it, insisting it was a valuable skill set – and it had proven to be so a few times, when the other man hadn’t been available to consult on something. This was – a different matter altogether, but he was not equipped to deal with Flint’s wounds the way he could stitch up a crew mate, or plug a hole on a ship. This was – stranger, than any of that, but queerly familiar enough that he had some fundamental understandings. One of which was that the state Flint was presently in was not safe, and he needed to be drawn out of it.

Huffing softly, he set his hand on the page, and began to read the words aloud, hoping his voice and the phrases from the book might stir the man out of his stupor. “By MANNERS, I mean not here, Decency of behaviour; as how one man should salute another, or how a man should wash his mouth, or pick his teeth before company,” Charles paused – and as a man who read slowly, it might not have been too notable overall as he tilted his head a bit slightly at the book because frankly he’d been unaware there were particulars in how one picked their teeth.

Carrying on dutifully, however, Charles maintained his slow but steady passage down the page. “- and such other points of the Small Morals; But those qualities of man-kind, that concern their living together in Peace, and Unity. To which end we are to consider, that the Felicity of this life, consist not in the repose of a mind satisfied. For there is no such – such – “

The fuck is that, Charles fell off, staring and trying to make sense of the letters, before sliding the book back to Flint helplessly, because that didn’t look like English – and if it was, it was no word he had heard before or knew to pronounce.

👏 – Ruffle my muse’s hair (this is how you say hello to someone right? xD probably asked if it was real too. Oh dear. Thomas Hamilton pls and ty <3 )

{ Touch Starved Meme }

“What did you do this time?” Thomas didn’t even have to look over to know who it was – there were only two people on this plantation who would lay a hand on him like this, and that hand was far too masculine for it to be Yolande. Amusement warmed his features all the same as he cast a glance to the man beside him, wondering if the action had indeed been mischief oriented or not.

😖 – Bury their face in my muse’s chest [ for thomas! probably bc he’s embarrassed! rip! ]

{ Touch Starved Meme }

“Ah,” He had embarrassed his dear lieutenant once again it seemed. Smiling fondly, Thomas raised his hands to the man’s shoulders and began working them in a familiar massage. He waited patiently for James to gather himself, soothing away the alarm with his fingers until at last, those fascinating mix-colored eyes gazed up at him once more.

“Welcome back,” He did not grant any time for the return of nerves as he curled his fingers beneath a familiar chin and brought James up for a tender kiss. It was simply too easy to torment the poor man – sometimes Thomas simply couldn’t help himself. He really ought to hold back on his mischief a little bit, lest he give his dear lieutenant a complex.

💪 – Pick my muse up [ for abigail, jazzhands, it’s Probably Out Of Necessity ]

{ Touch Starved Meme }

Abigail saw him coming, and hadn’t thought to be concerned until his large form bent over her, and she found herself caught up in a firm grip. Before she could even think, she was hauled up to her feet sharply and half-guided, half-dragged toward the treeline.

Understanding the need for stealth and swiftness from little more than his brisk attitude, Abigail bunched up what of her skirt she could manage around the journal in her hand and picked up the pace to better keep up with him. Once they were securely out of sight and he’d slowed down, she peered forward, all but peeking around his shoulder as she asked quietly, “Who are we hiding from?”

moretrashyrpmemes:

Touch Starved Meme

My muse is touch starved, send one for your muse to-

❤️ – Hug my muse from behind

👏 – Ruffle my muse’s hair

✋️ – Hold my muse’s hand

💪 – Pick my muse up

👆- playfully poke my muse

✍️ – Write something on my muse

💋 – Kiss my muse on the cheek

😏 – Playfully headbutt my muse

😝 – Lick my muse

😙 – Cover my muse in multiple kisses

🖐 – Give my muse a backrub

💤 – Cuddle up to my muse

😶 – Quietly lean against my muse

👃- Boop my muse on the nose

✊️- Playfully punch my muse

🙌 – Playfully shove my muse

😖 – Bury their face in my muse’s chest

💓💓💓💓💓 and finally, lots of hearts for Muharrem

{ Learn To Make A Heart Flutter }

Be contrasting. Muharrem is attracted to people who stand out among their fellows for various reasons. Be it a controversial political stance, an unusually soft personality, a unique physical trait, or what have you – if it is something that differentiates you from the masses in some way it is likely to be something Muharrem will like most about you – especially if that thing happens to get you into a lot of trouble or is something you seem to dislike in yourself.
Know humility. In a world where men are constantly bragging about their connections to better, more accomplished men and making grand claims of their own capacities, men who have both shown themselves to be skillful and yet remain humble and grounded in spite of their capabilities will always be more attractive to Muharrem than the latter. He considers using the names and accomplishments of others as a means to climb socially to be the height of disingenuous behaviour, and has no time for such individuals.
Engage him in conversation. Muharrem tends to keep to himself more often than not, going about his duties quietly and often eating while working just to avoid figuring out where he might be welcome. Taking the initiative to show interest in him will indicate to Muharrem that you are tolerant and open minded, which will win you his favor swiftly. He thrives on private discussions and will generally imprint on those who engage him, thus resulting in him making efforts to approach on his own terms, and building a rapport.
Show interest in his art. Muharrem does henna work for anyone who sees fit to commission it, and the more one does so the more likely it will be that Muharrem will approach and offer to do work for free in order to practice, or try out a new design. As it is slow and painstaking work, it generates time for discussion and can be a fairly intimate affair, which tells Muharrem you are comfortable in his presence and that you are a person he can call a friend. Being his friend is the surest way to becoming something more.
Flirt with him. Muharrem will be startled, certainly, but he will respond in kind and make something of a game of it. He is quite open with such behaviour so depending on the verse one might have to be careful in taking the direct method.

💓💓 for Horatio!

{ Learn To Make A Heart Flutter }

Be woefully unobtainable. Horatio has – an affinity for older men, which is a problem both on account of puritan stances during the time, as well as the slope in play with age differences in general. In truth, Horatio has always been too old for his youth and often finds those within his age range to be irksome and naive in ways that are difficult to tolerate. He is aware that he has – a rather particular approach, and a need for patience as a result of it that he finds does not appear to be all that common in younger men.

What is more, Horatio is primarily attracted to success, and people who are both undeniable survivors as well as people who have clear and definitive moral structures. Due to his intimate familiarity with death and failure, it is those who stand testament to their capacity to rise against adversity that draw his attention and keep it. The chances of losing these people are diminished on account of their own strengths, and that is a stability to which Horatio desperately cleaves.
Kiss him. Horatio has – a lamentable habit of convincing himself that his attraction is unwarranted and unwelcome. Considering his attractions fall toward older, accomplished men in a time where such affections could result in hanging, that’s relatively fair.
That said, he can be oblivious to flirtations in a bad way – which is why, generally speaking, the fastest and most surefire way to make your intentions upon him known is to simply kiss him.

While he will undoubtedly have questions afterward, he is guaranteed to melt almost instantly, and is very likely to cling like a barnacle to ensure you don’t abandon him the moment it’s time for air – and reflection on choices.

💓💓 for Jack!

{ Learn To Make A Heart Flutter }

Be a terrible choice all around. Jack falls in love with tragedy constantly. The less likely it is someone will love him back, the more likely it is he’ll find himself rooting for them and adoring them desperately. This, of course, ought to keep him from pursuing them – and generally speaking it does work – but every now and again he has to try, because he’s a fucking idiot, and it goes to hell in a handbasket ever so cheerfully. One time, it even got him killed. But we don’t talk about that.
Be fiesty. Jack loves spirited people. Especially if those people can go toe to toe with him on an intellectual front and get him dancing – he absolutely adores a challenge, and that might be why he has such a lamentable habit of falling in love with his rivals and people who prefer to belittle him and see him as mad rather than genius.
It’s not because he enjoys being talked down to and insulted ( in fact, he hates both of those things! A lot! ) but rather, it is because the stimulus of having someone intelligent enough to actually challenge him – even for a bicker, or a minute, or a single nautical maneuver – thrills Jack to no end.

The more exposure he has to these people who challenge him, the more likely it is that they will end up both becoming quite dear to him on account of the fact they keep him so cheerfully on his toes, but also, that they will in some terrible way, abandon or betray him, or worse, desperately need his help and sacrifices while simultaneously believing both matters to be owed them and thus, not worthy of even an iota of gratitude. But we don’t talk about that, either.