
Tag: intolerablexsacrifice
[theypissedonme] ‘ i’ll be right here. don’t worry. ’ [ @ vane. it’s said with utter nonchalance, even a dismissive sort of ‘it’s nothing’ tone, but The Genuine Support And Fondness is there nonetheless. ]
{ Soft Angst }

Charles was quiet – there was nothing he could say here that would feel right in the face of what was going on around them. He knew Jack understood, on a logical level – and he respected the fact that Jack would never truly have reason to empathize with him on this front, especially what with the fact he would personally and single handedly behead an entire fucking army if that was what it took to ascertain the damnable fool never obtained the depth of familiarity necessary to realize exactly how fucked up this all was.
But that didn’t mean he had to like it.
Straightening up, he looked at the man steadily a moment, before nodding and taking his leave. It was time to address them – and though he knew their freedom stood at the end of this labour, it didn’t make the position any easier to swallow. It didn’t wash away the bile that had settled itself thickly in the back of his throat from the very moment he had realized what the fuck Jack had done, what he expected, what Nassau apparently needed.
Jack was going to be right there, alright. And he wasn’t going to like this one bit.
Striding forth into the square, he faced the situation before him and did what he knew was right. If he and Flint could not manage what Jack had failed to accomplish in their absence, and do so by honest means, then they had no right to call themselves leaders. And if Nassau could not survive without slaves –
Then the entire fucking place could burn like Charlestown. Every goddamn acre of it. He’d tear her to pieces with his own fucking hands before succumbing to this.
“You’re free to go.” His voice was pitched as loud as it could go – clear in the quiet of those who faced him. “Every one of you – should you wish to stay here – are welcome to find honest work. As for the rest – arrangements will be made for you to rejoin your people as soon as we are able.”
Jack wouldn’t understand. And frankly – he didn’t have to.
[theypissedonme] 🎀 give my muse a gift [ @ vane. it’s a very small green lizard that gets deposited into charles’ hands after jack asks him to hold them out for him. ]
It was a testament to the relationship held between Charles and his quartermaster that Rackham could just say hold out your hands and he would do so without suspicion or fear – and considering that act was in a sense a sign of surrender, something that could easily turn to shackles on his wrists if he were not fast enough to react – spoke loud and clear about how much trust was held between them.

Jack did not disappoint – what he had to deliver was small even in his own hands, but set into Charles’, the little lizard was adorably dwarfed. Tucking the tiny thing close so that it would have a greater sense of security and freedom in wandering, he grinned brightly at it before looking up at Jack ( not thinking to wipe his features before doing so ) and wondered honestly, “Where did you find this, then?”
‘ don’t tempt me. ’ [ @ vane, take one (1) Grouchy-But-Somewhat-Playful Carrot ]
{ Pick A Fight }

“Considering the lack of canon balls in this household, I’m curious as to how you think you’d be winning that fight even if I did,” Charles retorted, amused. “Bludgeon me with a book?”
[ @ T.Ham ] 🐕 Rest their head on my muse’s knee

It had been a ridiculously trying day – and in truth, Thomas had not thought there would be anything that could calm his overall frustrations until the very moment James all but fell over and rested against his knee. In an instant, the angry energy swirling inside of him bled away, and the need to be absolutely still fell upon him instead.
To be a safe harbor for this man took immediate precedence – and perhaps that should have been a warning to him, a sign of the power this man would eventually hold over him. As it was, Thomas positioned his arm against the arm of the chesterfield and rested his head within the palm of his own hand as the other arm came to rest loosely over James, anchoring him in silence and making it clear, without a word, that they were fine. Regardless of the disaster of the day – like this, behind closed doors with only Miranda to find them, they were just fine.
💞 for a kiss on the hand [ @ t.ham in pirate verse, listen, he Likes Thomas’ Hands let him live ]

“If a callous vanished each time you did that I’d have hands that never worked a day again,” Thomas teased, his tone warm in a way that indicated he genuinely was not bothered by the state of his hands and considered James’ attention to them truly flattering.
He made no move to stop the man, either, simply choosing to shift himself so that he could take a seat again – he had not even been gone long, so there was really no excuse for James’ needing to touch him, any more than there was a reason for Thomas craving the offer of it. Yet in the dark hours of the night, when all there was in the world was the creak of the ship and the slap of the waves to remind him of where and when he was, Thomas found he needed James more than ever to feel as if the world was real.
He never believed in happy endings before, and maybe that was why like James, he did not like being apart for more than was absolutely necessary – and that until they touched again, everything felt a little more brittle and fragile than before.
[London era @ T.Ham] There are only so many condescending remarks from Rich Lords With Opinions On Him that McGraw can take, be they praising or otherwise. At some point he’d snapped–subtly, with a quip too scathing to be fully joking–and his gut had clenched, but he had neither apologised nor averted his eyes in submission. By the time he found himself alone with Thomas in the evening, he was all but seething. “–how do you /stand/ them?” He asked bitterly, then too late, added, “–my lord?”
Thomas had been keeping an eye on the lieutenant for more of the evening than was precisely proper – but in truth, he had been preparing for a moment exactly like this. Both he and Miranda had been in silent agreement that they would not speak up on McGraw’s behalf until he did so himself – at which point, they would be well beyond reproach for stepping in and quashing such remarks at future engagements.
When it did happen, his heart had swelled with pride for the way McGraw held his chin up, daring anyone to challenge him for such willful commentary. It was not the greatest opening, but it was a large enough one that Thomas and his wife had room to maneuver as their guests were leaving, to subtle lay the reminder that McGraw was their guest as surely as they were, and was to be treated as such.
Eventually, the room was mostly cleared, with only their dearest friends still in the parlor with Miranda, granting Thomas a free moment to excuse himself and address their fuming lieutenant before he gave himself an apoplexy. Securing them in his office, Thomas found himself temporarily startled by the outburst, but not so much that he could not recover swiftly.

“I tolerate them because I must, James,” Thomas was not about to fall back on formality now of all times. He had worked too hard to wear the lieutenant down to referring to him by his given name to surrender it now on account of his idiotic companions. Society chose his counterparts as surely as he did, an unfortunate truth Thomas had learned to stomach long ago. “You, however, are in no such position.”
Stepping over to the man, Thomas unconsciously tended to the man’s nerves as Miranda would manage his own, reaching up and gently straightening his lapels in a quiet reminder that appearance was everything, and so long as we looked our part, what we did behind closed doors – who we were beyond the mask – would remain safe.
“I will never fault you for excusing yourself, or making your own opinions known. You are as much my associate as they are – whether they like it or not,” He assured firmly, laying his palms soothingly upon the man’s chest now, and simply gazing down into his eyes in the hopes of impressing upon the lieutenant how intently he meant this. “I value your stances James – and if anyone in my parlor is making you feel like you don’t belong there, that is as much my failing as it is theirs.”
“That’s–” McGraw pauses, averts his eyes. “Not polite.” [ @ t.ham, prepare for s p a m ]
{ Things I’ve Said To My Puppy }

“No,” Thomas agreed, his voice thick with throttled laughter, “I suppose it wasn’t.”
☠️ protect my muse [ @ pirate!Thomas 🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪 time to p r o t e c t him ]

Thomas barely even had time to register the danger he was in before a flurry of leather and rage had burst past him, and there was a rather abrupt ( albeit short ) battle before him. Lowering his book, Thomas stared in absolute astonishment as James ruthlessly cut a man down, strangely detached from the overwhelming force of the violence at hand.
He only reacted when blood seeped its way down the planks toward his shoes – urging him to rise and step lightly over the rolling mess toward James, who was breathing heavily and staring down at the corpse he had made as if incensed beyond the capacity to truly see it. Tucking his book into his shirt, Thomas reached down and clasped both hands around the fist presently clenched around the handle of a bloody cutlass, waiting until his beloved’s glorious mixed hues sought him out.
“Thank you, my dear.” He spoke calmly, unafraid of James even in this state – and perhaps that was arrogant, perhaps that was where danger like this one was born. It mattered little to Thomas – his interest, now, was solely in bringing his lover back to him, lest he be forced along with the rest of the crew to deal with Flint for who knew how long.
“Come here,” He insisted, drawing on James’ hand with one of his, pulling him close as his other hand rose to rest on the man’s opposite shoulder. Heedless of the body at their feet, uncaring about the gazes surely upon them, Thomas leaned in and kissed the man – showing his gratitude as surely as demanding James stay with him, rather than get lost in whatever place it was he had built for himself when rage was the only emotion that made sense.
“A charming invitation, but I fear I must decline.” [ @ t.ham, london era ! ]

“Oh,” Thomas swiftly strangled his sense of disappointment at the dismissal – it wasn’t so much that he expected lieutenant McGraw to always be at his beck and call, but rather that he had grown rather accustomed to him over recent weeks and had hoped that they might be able to continue on their conversations over dinner.
Miranda had seemed certain that the man would be receptive to such an invitation, so perhaps there truly was some other engagement at play – it simply wasn’t in his experience that refusals were ever just due to bad timing. He smiled regardless, and fell upon the prescribed response for such situations as these. “Perhaps another time then.”