🥄 feed my muse when they’re ill or injured | following up that last Billy to Charles ask

Between Rackham and Bones, Charles had been strong armed into staying in his cabin and recovering from the vicious fever coursing through him on account of a few injuries that had gotten infected. The surgeon had already been in, and on the positive side the wounds were clearing off – nothing was rotting, which was certainly a good thing.

However, he was still relatively floored by the illness, and was likely to be bedridden for at least another three or four days – a prognosis he had been less than thrilled to hear. He had tried to argue, and had been dosed for his troubles – he knew a bedridden captain was no good to anyone, but it seemed the fucks were determined to keep him down for now.

That it had come down to being fed was grating – but with the way his hands shook, it would just end up all over him rather than in his stomach anyway, and Charles knew better than to be that wasteful. Pride swallowed down with every spoonful of broth, Charles eventually turned his head away in silent refusal. Something cool touched his cheek then, and he turned – immediately relenting to the drink he was offered out of sheer necessity for it. After which, he laid his head back down and tried to battle down his dizziness enough to sleep.

The sooner he was healthy, the better for all of them.

‘ shit, you’re burning up. ’ | BILLY TO CHARLES cause everyone needs to be taken care of by Billy at some point

{ Hurt Prompts }

“Doesn’t matter,” Charles croaked, already reaching for his shirt as he forced his aching body into an upright position, “Bell’s been called. Tell Jack to get himself to bed,” He knew the only reason Rackham wasn’t the one in here was because the damn shit was wholly aware that he was ill and would therefore be impossible to deal with. Doubtless the fuck was hoping Billy could persuade him into resting, and the two had already conspired like he wouldn’t figure that out in a heartbeat. “You’re third watch – feel free to head below as well.”

⚠️ clean up my muse after a fight | Cutler to Charles

{ Random Act Prompts }

“They had it coming,” Charles snarled, his teeth bared in fury even as he held still for the smaller man as he dabbed a wet cloth against his skin, wiping away the blood and grime accumulated in the wake of the much overdue cleaning up that had been undertaken today.

Blind eyes had been afforded for too long – if Nassau was going to function for shit, she needed to be self managed – and that would not happen if fucks like Captain Gervaine believed they could waltz in here and start fucking around with everybody else’s business and goods without facing consequences for it.

That the son of a bitch had tried going after Cutler was a very small point of Charles’ reasoning for putting an end to matters once and for all, but he could imagine what it must look like to the other man, and he didn’t want him reading too much into it. At least, not right now, when there were others who had to be convinced his actions had come from a point of pure logic, rather than having any sort of emotional undercurrent.

‘ i don’t have a family anymore. ’ | Billy in [insert context here] to Charles after Gates is dead ;;

{ Don’t Starters }

Charles – could identify with the loss that Billy was going through, on various levels. Some were older and long since scarred over, while others were wounds that continued to fester beneath the surface. He wanted to acquire this man for his crew – of that, there was no question – but he had never wanted it to come at a price so steep as the loss of another pirate, let alone one as good as Gates had been, when he wasn’t so far up Flint’s ass it was a wonder he could breathe. Fat lot of fucking good his position up there did him, in the end.

Heaving a sigh, he leaned forward, propping his elbows on the table and folding his hands together as he eyed the other man thoughtfully before asking the obvious question. “So what do you plan on doing about it?” If Billy was going to twist himself up on vengeance – that could prove a problem if he got reckless about it. But if he just needed a way out – that was something Charles knew he could provide, if need be.

“Shut up and let me help you.” | Billy to Charles

{ Wounded Starters }

“Get on with it then!” Charles was not in the fucking mood to be trifled with at the moment. His arm wasn’t responding properly, and he knew that boded ill if he didn’t get it tended to quickly. He had been struggling to push himself back up when Billy had arrived – and he couldn’t even remember what he said, at this point. Pain was mulling him out, and his body was lodging too many complaints for his brain to wholly keep track of everything going on around it.

Clasping the other man’s arm with his good hand, he allowed himself to be hauled up and half carried from the fight – there was no point in dying needlessly. Charles never saw shame in a tactical retreat, and he was hardly going to start today.

“It’s cold outside” | Billy to Charles

{ The Meme }

The explanation didn’t really – explain shit. It was cold outside, sure – he had noticed, and so had everyone else. Doubtless Billy himself was pretty cold all things told – he was no better dressed than the rest of them, when it came down to it. The winds had brought something bitter with them tonight – if they were lucky, it would pass them all by come morning, but until then it was unlikely anyone without someone willing to share their hammock would be very happy until the weather turned back to normal.

“You find one of these for everyone?” He asked, shrugging a bit so he could wrap the blanket around himself for now – making it easy to escape if need be. He knew how much Billy valued equality, so he doubted this had anything to do with him being captain.

“Oops!” | Cutler to Charles

{ Random Oopsies }

1. Your character walking in on mine naked.

Charles didn’t particularly react when the door to his room swung open suddenly, other than to shift himself closer to where his pistol lay on the bedside table. Face to face with a suddenly frozen Cutler Beckett, a shameless smile crossed his features as he strode over and reached over the smaller man’s shoulder to close the door – keeping an eye on him in case he tried anything – and then stepped back, raising his brows curiously. “What’s so important you couldn’t be assed to knock?”

💨 catch my muse in a lie | Joji to Thomas

{ Random Act Prompts }

Thomas’ expression spoke rather clearly to how pleased he was about this situation, but despite the openness in which he wore his frustration, the silence that carried on between the two men was a high indication that he was as of yet still calculating a means out of the entire business.

“What do you want from me?” He settled on flatly, unwilling to budge an inch on this topic – nor desiring to have anyone else brought into it. He was functioning fine and would surely be able to stomach food again in a day or two, once the nausea and memories had worn themselves through and the needs of his body outweighed the demands of his mind to avoid food at all costs.

“My portion of whatever it is we are chasing is yours, if that is what it takes for you to maintain your customary silence.”

“It’s cold outside” | Billy to Thomas

{ The Meme }

“Ah – thank you Billy,” Thomas did not hesitate to pull the blanket tighter around his shoulders once it settled, a wealth of gratitude swelling within him. His time amid the fields in Havana had taught him well not to voice complaint, least of all over things no man could control, such as the weather. It had been bitterly cold for some time, and he doubted he was the only man to think so – that Billy was kind enough to see his discomfort and act to alleviate it despite his silence spoke volumes to the other man’s good nature. “Does the weather not bother you?” He wondered, certain that Billy’s attire was no more suited to this chill than his own.

“Oops!” | Cutler to Thomas

{ Random Oopsies }

17. Your character walking in on mine having an embarrassing fall.

Pushing himself up from the floor after a rather horrific tumble down a blessedly short flight of stairs, Thomas stilled as he noted a pair of polished shoes – upon which the wig which had flown from his head and likely slid across the polished wood had come to settle.

Flushing furiously with embarrassment, Thomas brought himself to his feet to face whom he would have to apologize to on account of his own misfortune. The sight of the young upstart from the EITC made him want to swallow his tongue entirely and feign far greater injury than that which he had actually attained solely to avoid this particular encounter, but in the end he grit out that which polite society dictated, and even managed to paint on a smile in the process.

Miranda, at least, would be proud of him for not simply storming out of the building and returning home in a right state.

“Forgive me – I’m afraid I lost my footing.”