Tag: intolerablexsacrifice

🎐- Does your muse like to collect/hoard anything? / 🕹- What does your muse do to occupy themselves when bored? / 🎖- Does your muse enjoy praise? [ for theodore! ]

{ Unusual Questions } 

🎐- Does your muse like to collect/hoard anything? 

Theodore is not a materialistic person. In fact, he sends the majority of his earnings back to his sisters, keeping only that which he needs to eat and maintain his uniform when ships are docked. His only indulgences come in his hygienic products and in hair ties, so materially speaking, he owns almost nothing – he has his uniform, replacement pieces in the event of damage, standard issue weapons and gear. Everything else he may have need of, he finds ways to borrow or rent. If he hoards anything, it will be the immaterial matters listed in the next point. 

🕹- What does your muse do to occupy themselves when bored?

Theodore loves listening to people talk about their lives and experiences. If he collects anything at all, it is stories and adventures – whether the latter be lived by himself or vicariously through another person. He also takes what free time he may have to pen letters to his sisters. Otherwise, his time is occupied either by his duties ( as dictated by the ship ) and responsibilities ( as dictated by himself; namely, being mother to his men )   

🎖- Does your muse enjoy praise? 

It depends – for the most part yes, though there are times when he may be confused by it. Theodore is a fairly humble person – it is not that he thinks lowly of himself in any way, so much as he prefers credit be granted where it is due, and when he finds himself being praised on account of something his men happen to be responsible for he tends to be quick to point out their contributions as well. He doesn’t stand by the idea of a superior gaining all the credit for hard work and a job well done. 

❌❌❌ [ for G-D WHO AM I EVEN FORGETTING AT THIS POINT theodore! ]

{ Sunday Kinkuisition }

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  • Theodore is a man who likes his pleasure the way he likes his life – loud, exciting, and full of abandon. He prefers it when he has the freedom to be as energetic as he pleases – and there is nothing he enjoys more than driving his partner to new heights, particularly if he can urge them into being as vocal as he himself can at times become. He considers it a great thrill and reward when he can unlock his partner’s jaw and have them forget the world in favor of surrendering completely to pleasure, frankly. 

  • Long, luxurious massage sessions. It doesn’t even have to end in sex ( though let’s face it – they usually do ) He enjoys making his partners melt, yes, but knowing that the lasting effects will help them in their regular tasks later is an additional bonus he really does enjoy. Of course, because he employs the art of the sensual massage as often as he can, the occasional need based massage he delivers is not only exceptional, it also has the habit of sending the mind places it ought not to be going. 

  • Sensory deprivation / tactile stimulation are two of his favorite things to play with. Blindfolds and feathers? Leather and silk? Oh yes. 

HERE’S A FUCKIN’ HEADCANON QUESTION: What would Thomas think of the fact that Flint killed Alfred Hamilton and his wife? On a related note, would he have suspected ‘Captain Flint’ to be James (assuming he’d heard anything about him on the plantation, idk what your headcanons are there) beforehand? If not, how the fuuuck would he react to James Telling Him About That Shit? JAZZHANDS JUST. TELL ME THINGS ABOUT THIS. TELL ME YOUR THOUGHTS.

There is a lot of things to unpack here so I am going to split this into pieces and post them as properly framed headcanons:

  • The Murder Of The Hamiltons
  • Concerning Captain Flint
  • Learning James’ Truth

Pretty

intolerablexsacrifice:

@oceanfoamed (from here)

Flint stares at him. Then he stares some more, because it’s not immediately clear to him that Hal might be joking. His face twitches like he’s barely containing something (that something being both amusement and sheer exasperation with the bastard), the back of his neck warming. 

“Always,” Flint says, dryly. Just for that, he fusses with the collar of Gates’ shirt again, then steps back to finally let the man breathe. “No harm in looking presentable, Hal. You’d think you’d been hauled through a bush coming in here.”

Every now and again, a man found himself faced with an age old choice: to mischief, or not to mischief. Hal considered himself a man with a great immunity to the urge of the former, but every now and again the temptation was so fucking heady he just could not restrain himself. 

“You never tell me I’m pretty though, so how’s a man to know?” He asked, not giving a fucking hint to the man whether or not this was a jest or a genuine criticism. Flint struggled at the best of times to read a room, and games like these were almost mean in a way because of it – but at the end of the day, Hal was only human.

Sometimes, he had to have a little bit of fun. 

“In case you missed it,” He gestured to the interior around them, “We’re surrounded by bush. I kept to the path, thank you. Not my fault I got a bit rustled up on the way in.” 

🤝 – holding their hand [ one flustered (1) lieutenant @ thomas, oh NO, HAND holding, how INAPPROPRIATE ]

{ Nonverbal Starters }

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The sensation of James’ hand in his own is something of a surprise – it is not often that his lieutenant takes such daring initiatives, and though he hums his approval and gives a gentle squeeze, he finds himself at war. On one hand he wants to reward this in a grand fashion – on the other, he wants James to see this as normal – as perfectly acceptable to the point it was not worthy of note beyond the comfort that it brought between them.

In the end, he decided they could work their way to that – for now, James was so new to everything, that he deserved to have his initiatives rewarded. Miranda would doubtless have something to say about spoiling when he told her about it later, but for now his focus was all on James as he shifted his grip and brought their joined hands up, so that he might press a kiss to the back of the man’s hand to show his appreciation.  

“I don’t want this.” [ @ gates, pick a verse any verse ]

{ Four Word Prompts }

Hal’s head tilted to the side very slowly, whispers in the dark rising to an incoherent cacophony as he tried to catch their words, knowing that the anger within him was what was stirring up their attentions. He focused on them for too long – silence reigned in the outside world as he pinned Flint with an unseeing stare, listening to voices disembodied and vicious as the violence inside of him. 

“And I did?” He wondered too softly, as if by keeping his words quiet it would encourage the thunderous roar of the shadows to dull itself in his mind. “This is what we have now – you have no position to be bitching about it,” Hal could no longer tolerate the howling. Reaching up, he turned the noise into action, using the shadows in order to silence them. 

With uncanny force, Flint’s chair shot forward, knocking into the man’s knees and forcing him to sit down. Wordlessly, Hal crossed over and set his palms down on the desk, the noise fading now to the usual soft and meaningless background chatter. “So how about you do us both a favor and start thinking about what we’re going to do about it.”

We. That was the power word in his statement, for though he spoke forcefully – if quietly, unwilling to stir the shadows into chaos again – there was no questioning the fact he remained – for better or worse – Flint’s man. Changed, and questionably a man at all, but his to command and direct if he willed it. Yet with that came a heavy weight as well – a responsibility to do right this time, because there would surely be no third opportunity presented.  

❝ do you really think that? ❞ [ @ silver ! ]

{ 100 Random Starters }

When Jandro had seen the ship enter the harbor, some part of him had quailed away, seeking retreat he knew better than to chase. Gripping his crutch, he made his way to the guards on site and informed them of his history with this crew – in short form, but with enough detail to show he was capable of managing them but would prefer to have the House of Silver keep a weather eye on the lot, particularly the captain.

He had gone with the committee then, tending to matters with brisk and efficient professionalism. He showed little favor despite the familiarity he held with these men, and inspected the Walrus thoroughly. There had been a few men he hadn’t recognized, which was understandable all things considered. They were marked down, and Chava had hummed at Hamilton, Thomas in a way that indicated the name bore significance that would be discussed later. 

While the crew was presently being cleared and tagged, he had some time to speak to Flint in private – informing him without preamble that he would not be causing trouble in Lamara, and as soon as the Walrus was repaired, she and her crew would be leaving. 

The response did not bode well. 

“If your intention is to stay,” He could not withhold his doubt on this, “Then you will go through the same processes as everyone else – there are no rooms in Lamara for idle hands, nor any interest in men whose agendas do not align appropriately. If you think to radicalize this place, you have come to the wrong island, hombre.” 

‘i wish you were here.’ [ @ ghost!gates ;^; ]

{ The Unforgivable Starters }

The anger that had reigned through him for so long had faded by now, and while such sentiments would have sent him into a flying rage before on account of who was responsible for the fact he wasn’t there anymore, now he could only find himself pained by the awareness that Flint had no more wanted this than he had. It had been a perfect storm – one that he had summoned against himself, if he were honest in the silence he was damned to, and more often than not these days Hal saw little reason to be dishonest with himself. 

Though he had the energy for it, Hal opted not to materialize in that moment. He felt that the sight of him would not help in this – and though he did not wish to be forgotten, he also did not want to be held on to so tightly that Flint lost himself. Unable to help in any substantial way, Hal slipped away, and decided to make use of himself by harassing some of the crew who were proving themselves especially problematic – if he could haunt them overboard, that would be delightful, but he’d settle for distracting them to the point they forgot to cause trouble in the meanwhile.

‘every word you’re saying is a lie.’ [ @ silver >:/ ]

{ The Unforgivable Starters }

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Silver affected a quizzical look, as if he had absolutely no idea what on earth Flint could be on about. He held it for a good thirty seconds before he could feel his fucking moustache quivering against the effort to keep a straight face, and he was done in. His teeth flashed in an unrepentant grin even as he asked, “Alright, who told you?” 

Someone must have clued Flint in to the fact the ‘insults’ he had been learning were in fact compliments, which of course when stated angrily had the hilarious effect of confusing the shit out of whoever they directed at – which hopefully would mitigate some of the damage of Flint’s rather combative personality in some cases. Now that he was on to it though, it would hardly be as entertaining.