🔮Do they believe in soul mates? [ for vane! ]

↕️Are they sub, dom or switch?

Charles is a true switch, though he has tendencies in any role that would ally themselves more to the other side of traditional understanding. When in the submissive role, he still takes the lead in most aspects and does not respond well to dominance that places him in a subjugated or degrading position. It’s up to him how far things go and what the tryst entails, whether he is the one who would be considered the submissive ot not.

Contrastingly when he is the one in control, he grants the same measure of agency to his partner that he demands for himself. What he fights for, a person submissive to him gains without any effort, to the point it easily appears that he does not lead the relationship. This is due to his understanding of equality and the importance of it in these kinds of partnerships. An understanding that was, admittedly, clouded for awhile as he mistakenly believed himself on equal footing with Guthrie, only to truly accept his role as a submissive party after their relationship ended.

💝How long until they feel secure and comfortable in a relationship?

This is so situationally dependant that there is no answer. Charles’ trust can be earned in a week, or it can take two years. Regardless of which it is, once garnered it is hard to lose – and once lost, it can never be regained.

🔮Do they believe in soul mates?

I think if the idea was ever presented to him he would deeply dislike it. Charles values choice so much in life that the idea one of the more important choices to be made as a person – the choice of who you spend your time with, who you dedicate your loyalty to – is predetermined and therefore not a choice at all, would be deeply unsettling and unwelcome enough that he would refuse to believe, and furthermore, would refuse to adhere to it out of sheer spite.

intolerablexsacrifice replied to your post:
��What are their deal breakers? / ��️Do they give…

[ hal is such a bulldog i fucking love him ]

he’s what happens when you cross a bear with a pug tbh

🤐Would they ever confess their feelings first? / 💋Are they more sensual or sexual? / 📖What is their favorite outside of the bedroom activity to do with their partner? [ for abigail! ]

{ Relationship Inquiries }

🤐Would they ever confess their feelings first?

Our dear author is deeply dedicated to truthfulness and honesty. While she may not confess herself right away ( generally attempting to come to terms with what she is feeling, as often times she doesn’t at all understand what is going on until someone makes exactly the right remark for her to realize it has a name and it is indeed as she suspects ) it does not sit well with her to withhold information.

Abigail is as opposed to lies of omission as she is to blatant falsehoods, so if she is certain or if she feels she should say something, she will prove herself to be shockingly bold. This however, is generally due to the fact that by the time she is ready to say how she feels, she trusts that the response will be kind.

Not accepting, but kind – she does not expect to be desirable in such fashions, so much as she does to be treated with respect and kept on as a friend despite her one-sided emotions which are sure to fade in time.

💋Are they more sensual or sexual?

Abigail is a sensual creature – even once she is woken to sexual acts, it is softer things that make her heart race. She predicted a loveless marriage in her future, one without desire but with frequent consumption for the need of heirs. She was prepared for sex in her life, for the monotony of missionary arrangements – but not for passion.

At no point in her life was she prepared to be desired in a way that might prompt long periods of kissing and touching, for the overwhelming sensation of being treated like something precious and adored. For Abigail, the foreplay is everything, and is not necessarily a lead into sex so much as a display of love that exceeds words and passes into physical manifestations.

📖What is their favorite outside of the bedroom activity to do with their partner?

Reading, or going for long walks. She loves quiet time with the person she is closest to, and the sensation of knowing how the world can be so big and yet, when they are together, it feels so comfortably close.

😡What are their deal breakers? / 🏷️Do they give their partners cute nicknames? / 💚Are they prone to jealousy? [ for gates! prepare yourself for a billion asks ]

{ Relationship Inquiries }

😡What are their deal breakers?

Violence and alcoholism will have Hal out the door faster than you can say hgg. Hal has no time for abuse in his love life – and having grown up with an alcoholic mother and an abusive father, he’s seen the effects of both and knows it isn’t anything he wishes to court for himself.

Beyond that, the only other thing that is certain to have him call it quits is to cheat on him. He’s a monogamous creature at heart, and possessive, so getting him to share isn’t easy – and that’s with his consent. Going behind his back is sure to get you tossed out on your ass.

🏷️Do they give their partners cute nicknames?

Absolutely. Hal is ridiculous and will come up with the silliest shit to call his partner – generally it is in a teasing nature, but when he’s feeling cuddly it can be more generic matters like darling and dearest. He’s also prone to the ‘endearing insult’ when he is vexed, or teasing again.

💚Are they prone to jealousy?

Absolutely. Hal is territorial in a platonic sense – in a romantic one, he is possessive almost to a point of it being unhealthy. That said he doesn’t suspect his partner of being unfaithful without due cause – more often than not those suspicions arise due to changes in their behaviour rather than others flirting with them.

Hal knows damn fucking well he has impeccable taste – he generally expects that his partners will have plenty of opportunity outside of himself and will trust that they will maintain the relationship between them honorably. If he notices that his partner is uncomfortable with the attention however, he will not hesitate to lay a notable claim and chase off unwanted advancements.

Stitching Of Our Hearts

@intolerablexsacrifice continued from [x]

He had been keeping up to date for months now – and he had thought perhaps he was ready. Seeing James again had stolen the air from his lungs in so many ways it had scared him. There was no denying that his heart still beat for the man and yet, he hadn’t wanted to show it – wasn’t ready to show it or accept what it might mean when he did. Instead he had simply tried to entertain conversation, catching up with the man face to face rather than through third parties.

It had been pleasant, honestly. Nerves had settled over time and things had felt right up until he had to go. James had reached out so quickly – the grip so tight and immediate that it had taken great will to stand still and civil when his own instincts were flaring with alarm at the action. He was glad he had managed it though – the hurt on James features told him clearly enough that anything harsher might have broken something between them, and that was the scariest part of all of this.

His chest is tight – a decision looms before him, one that he knows only he can make. It is that reassurance alone that steadies him enough to consider the benefits and consequences before he steps forward instead of away. The motion solidifies his choice, and he closes the distance, pulling James into a warm embrace – the same embrace he had avoided offering when he first arrived, for fear of what it might cost. Now, he knew that denying them this wouldn’t help – they both needed the solidity of knowing the other was there in more than stories from the mouths of others.

“I’ll be back,” He promised, needing James to know that he wasn’t saying something more permanent in this choice of farewell. Stepping back, he gripped the man’s shoulders the way he used to – even if they were broader, stiffer than he remembered, the gesture stayed familiar. “Thank you, James.” He didn’t know if the man really understood why he needed this – but the fact that he never forced anything meant the world to Thomas, and he deserved to know that, by some measure.

Hggg

@intolerablexsacrifice continued from [x]

Maybe it had been petty – but Christ on a Christmas cracker the way Flint jumped was so funny Hal forgot all about the fact he was dead and collapsed in on himself from laughing so hard. It was like throwing a cucumber at a cat! Pure, harmless entertainment at its finest.

It seemed he wasn’t the only one amused either, and something warmed as Flint laughed. It was times like this – when Flint was amused by him and seemed like he might be okay – that Hal thought he saw something bright in the corner of his eye.

Ignoring it as usual, he smiled as the younger man slumped and chided him. “Just cause you can’t purr,” He shot back, knowing it wouldn’t be heard and not minding one bit. He flashed to the front of the desk instead, fluttering paper again, as a means of acknowledging he heard the complaint, if nothing else.

Can’t Touch This

@intolerablexsacrifice continued from [x]

When it had first happened, Hal had been absolutely furious with Flint for killing him and positively despondent with his fate as a ghost. As time had come to pass however, he had found that there was a surprising sort of comfort in being dead. He had no obligations or responsibilities, and with no need for food, drink or sleep he had nothing but time.

At first he hadn’t known what to do with it – but as he spent more time in the state, he began to acquire energy. He found that his energy would increase as a result of certain things – and decrease whenever he spent it on particular actions. He’d begun experimenting – learning what he could do, what cost the most energy and what granted the most energy.

So far, mischief seemed to be both the most taxing and the most gratifying – in every sense. As Flint suddenly made uncomfortable noises and stood like a rabbit before the wolf while he was stared at by the others, Hal fucking lost it in the corner, unseen by all as he laughed, knowing that there was nothing Flint could do about this and thriving on the man’s frustration now – knowing his frustration later would charge him up enough to make up for the energy spent on this to begin with.

Fuck, but if there were not perks to being dead.

The Challenge In Our Promises

intolerablexsacrifice:

~

_{Watching Gates set up the wash basin, Flint felt the old, constricting silence settle in his throat. He knew that had anyone other than Hal walked through that door and seen him like this, his world would have begun collapsing around him already. Weakness like this was not something to be shown in front of a crew, ever.}

_{He faded, a little. Felt the world slip out of focus, the sounds of Gates’ movements muffled and distant as Flint tried not to think about the blood, and the exhaustion, and how utterly unrecognizable he had become to himself. But he looked up when Hal moved into his line of vision, the world sharpening.}

_{Flint stared dead-eyed until Hal crouched down, at which point the captain’s brow began to furrow. He took the cloth almost tentatively from him, watching Gates with the intense, sharp gaze that usually meant he was trying to read someone. Hal… did not mock. Did not ask questions, or treat this as anything other than offering a cloth to someone that needed to scrub the blood from their face. Flint couldn’t name the emotion that rose in him because of it.}

_{He turned the cloth over in his hands a few times before swiping his face with it, the scrape of the fabric grounding him, dislodging the silence that had stuck itself in his throat. “Good,” he said, quietly, then–eyeing Gates for a moment, his expression unreadable–slowly began to uncurl, and push himself up off of the floor. “Should keep them content for a while.”}

_{He moved past him, towards the wash basin. His eyes fell on the clothes laid out, but the first thing Flint did was begin scrubbing at his hands, keeping his back to Gates as he did so. He would need to wash them again afterwards- trying to clean the blood out of his hair and beard was already proving a difficult task- but it felt necessary, regardless, to have his hands somewhat cleaner beforehand.}

_{He glanced sharply at Gates, then turned away, reaching for the clothing that had been laid out.}

_{“–if you have something to say, just fucking say it.”}

Hal kept an eye on Flint as he cleaned up, measuring where he was at and determining if it might be wise to keep him cooped up a while longer or if getting him out under the sun for a time might be more beneficial. He hummed, indicating his agreement with the assessment – he knew that Flint had not wanted this detour, but he also knew it was exactly what the crew needed in order to keep them manageable.

Perhaps that was exactly the right response for answering all questions though. Maintaining a relative silence seemed to have put Flint on edge, especially in light of what appeared to be a complete breakdown, and that was enough to convince Hal to keep the man safely out of sight for a good while, until his humors could rebalance themselves.

“Breathe.” The first word was succinct, but it was the most important thing he had to say at the moment. “Get yourself cleaned up – whatever this was, it is over and we are going to drink, eat, and forget about it. Which will be easier to do when you don’t look – and likely feel – like you’re stuck in the center of it.”

violence & weakness

intolerablexsacrifice:

~

_{Flint’s gaze was intense and furious as he watched Gates drink. The anger did not seem directed at one specific thing, exactly: it simply was, and it radiated off of Flint in every twitch and squint, like some inextricable part of him that could not be let go of. His hand was curled around his own tankard, but the moment Gates spoke it was clear Flint had all but forgotten the drink was even there.}

_{At the suggestion of feeding them some bones, Flint made a scathing, frustrated sound: he rose abruptly, the way he often did during conversations like this. Like he was too restless to stay still. His fingers twitched at his side while one hand lifted to rub at his beard, back turning to Gates as Flint moved towards the window. He glared out through the glass a while, then turned that mismatched gaze back to Gates, still equally as wound up.}

_{“Fuck them,” Flint hissed, and looked away again. After a beat, he paced slowly along the space behind the desk between them, mulling Gates’ words over. As much as Flint believed that he knew better than the crew–as much as he elevated himself above them constantly–he could not deny that they were necessary for what he wanted to achieve. He needed their support, unless he wanted a mutiny on his hands and to lose all hope of ever acquiring that fucking gold.}

_{“Those men–” Flint all but rounded on him, leaning forwards to brace both hands on the desk. “–cannot be trusted with this until the last possible moment. If I were to tell them what we’re hunting, I wouldn’t trust a single fucking one of them not to either sell that information or let it slip through sheer carelessness. But if I don’t–” He straightened again, finally conceding the point with a vague gesture at Gates: you’re right.}

_{“Every moment we spend hunting more profitable prizes for their sakes is a moment that I cannot afford to waste,” he muttered, fidgeting at his beard again. “That we cannot afford to waste.” But the crew thought he was weak–}

_{His eyes fell on the tankard on the desk; Flint reached down for it, took a swig, and set it down again: the smell of blood reached him every time he lifted his hands anywhere near his face, and he could not make himself sit back down again.}

_{“The Urca has to take priority. There’s simply no other option.”}

Hal did not react as Flint displayed his frustrations – not so much because he believed the man’s anger impotent, as due to the fact he was holding on to the faith the man was smart enough to put his emotions aside and approach matters critically once he’d had his outburst. Lips thinning just long enough to form a smack as Hal shot his brows up and tilted his head to the side, conveying plenty without saying a goddamn word, he took another swig of his drink as Flint talked himself around.

The gesture in his direction was noted over the rim of his tankard, and Hal saluted the man before he set it down as the captain muttered to himself. Still he waited, having a feeling this was not the end – and finding himself proven correct when objectives seemed to realign themselves within Flint and settle stubbornly into place. Hal took a breath, because as much as he wanted that haul – at least one of them needed to give a fuck about the crew.

“I don’t pretend to understand your ambitions, just like I know there’s not a man aboard this crew who’ll care. Thinking beyond full bellies and purses is not what they are here for – and loyalty among pirates is something that must be purchased and respected or it wanes. Your own rise to captaincy should prove beyond a shadow of a doubt that a crew that sees its captain as weak and unwilling to pursue profitable prizes is replaceable.”

Tabers had been a damn good captain – Gates had a feeling even Flint could acknowledge that much. He’d played it safe, sure, but there was never a time his crew wanted for pay. Not once. And now that same crew was going months without it or any explanation for it while being lead by the man who had promised to give them profits unheard of under Tabers by bringing them a taste of a good fight. There was no way in hell Flint was truly naive enough to think he could keep this crew under these conditions. Again, simply being the best for a time did not in turn ascertain one could maintain that title without proving it.

“So unless your intent is to kill a man every other week – which might incite fear enough to keep you in business for another three months, but guarantees a mutiny within six – I am going to have to suggest you come up with something better than what we have running right now. Because you can degrade this crew all you like,” And Hal was not fond of how conceited Flint could get, which showed itself only in how cold and stern his own tone became, “You’re fucked without them. So figure this out, because that little display back there isn’t going to make them respect you again, but it is going to make them question if following you is worth not only no pay – but also, apparent instability.”

Games Of Many Meanings

intolerablexsacrifice:

~

_{“Mmhmm.” Flint looked amused, mouth curled into a smirk at Hal’s sense of humour. Well- that, and what Flint perceived to be an indication that Gates was in no mood to be fucked with today, not even by him. But his eyes flickered to the older man’s hands. Though Flint’s tone was carefully nonchalant–as if this was simply something that happened to everyone, nothing out of the ordinary–there was still that barely-detectable trace of caring in it when he met Hal’s gaze: “Bad again?”}

Hal was honestly never in a mood to be fucked with, but he was very good at projecting an approachable demeanor that caused folk to overlook danger more often than not. That Flint could pick up on it ever would have been an enormous surprise to him – especially at a time when he was, more or less, in fairly high spirits.

At the inquiry, he huffed and just barely managed to keep back the if you make it to my age jibe burning on his tongue as he replied, “When isn’t it?” His hands always gave him hell – there were just days when they were louder about it, was all. He shrugged though, showing it wasn’t at the worst it could be and that as per usual, he would manage. “Still doing better than Dufrense’s teeth I wager.”

Damn kid kept scrubbing at them like he thought if he rubbed just right, the crew would forget he’d ripped a man’s throat out like some kind of damn animal. Or maybe ( and arguably more likely ) if he cleaned them just the right way, he might forget what he did – and how it made him feel.