#pirate romance

[monstersandmaw]

Male drider pirate captain x gn human (mild nsfw)

Disclaimer which I’m including in all my works after plagiarism and theft has taken place: I do not give my consent for my works to be used, copied, published, or posted anywhere. They are copyrighted and belong to me.

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Surprise! A story out of the blue! Hope you like it.

Content: a human who faces daily discrimination for being one of the only humans in a relatively isolated society of non-humans, non-explicit/detailed mention of unwanted sexual/physical contact (it’s brief, but it’s in there - paragraph beginning ‘Still, they couldn’t be any worse than the naga...’), a reader who was orphaned at a young age, a dread pirate captain who’s actually a total softie, a motley crew of pirates who are also all secret sweethearts, and a tiefling friend who wants the best for you. And a briefly spicy ending. Enjoy? Wordcount: 8710

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For all its pretty beaches and steady flow of gold and goods, Cutthroat Cove was hardly the kind of place that people aspired to reach, and it wasn’t the kind of place people lingered once they washed up there, humans least of all.

To get off the island, you had to find a pirate ship willing to take you, and the price of passage was usually dearer than it first appeared. Most of the crews didn’t like humans aboard either, which was another odd stacked against you.

“To the Empress!” A shout went up from the furthest corner of the dingy tavern, and tankards were raised in a jeering chorus of howls and inhuman noises. You glanced up from where you’d been drying off the wooden mugs that Harrow had just finished washing, and you watched as the crew of the Blackbird, flush with fresh plunder, began a familiar toast. “May she continue shitting out shiny gold coins for us to keep plucking out of her fat little merchants’ hands!”

Their laughter filled the small, low-ceilinged common room and made your ears buzz. There must have been a siren among them, you thought distantly as you shook your head to clear it. No one else seemed affected, but a nearby patron — a triton leaning heavily on the wooden bar — leered toothily at you and flared the fins on the side of their head in a mocking sneer.

As you turned away to diffuse the situation, your elbow caught a bottle of rum on the edge of the counter. It teetered and would have smashed had Harrow not grabbed it with his prehensile tail and shunted it back to safety. He shot you a warning look and rolled his dark eyes affectionately. A creased dimple appeared in his cheek and the tiefling smirked a fanged smile at you before throwing a wet dishcloth in your face. “Watch it, clumsy,” he snorted playfully. “Honestly. What are you like?”

“Thanks,” you mumbled and tried not to watch too closely as his purple tail uncoiled slowly from the bottle. Perhaps it came from being raised on a mostly non-human pirate ship, or perhaps you’d just been made differently, but your fellow humans had never done much for you, and in fact, the less human someone looked, the more likely you were to find yourself tripping over your feet around them.

With another sigh, you turned to see to a goblin with blood red hair who had just leaned over the bar to yell an order at you above the clamour in the room, a gold ring glinting in her nose, when the door flew open and a small harpy boy flapped inside, with his feathers all ruffled and his chest heaving from a wild flight up the hill to the tavern.

“The Widow’s Web docked down on Rum Quay fifteen minutes ago!” the boy panted, wide eyed and sweaty faced. “And they’re coming ashore!”

For a moment, the entire, packed tavern went completely still. Everyone seemed to be holding their breath. Someone set down their tankard with a loud clunk but for a good ten seconds, that was the only sound in the whole room.

“The Widow’s Web?” someone finally hissed. “She never docks anywhere. What the fuck is she doing here?”

“Maybe they need to resupply?”

“They don’t resupply ashore,” someone else scoffed. “They just take what they need off the Imperial Navy and keep on sailing!”

“Maybe one of them is sick?”

“Or they’re looking for new crew?”

“I heard the captain wraps people up in his webs to eat later…” came a nearby, dark muttering.

“Or maybe —”

“— Maybe they just want a good drink for once, and find Her Imperial Majesty’s rations perennially disappointing,” came a deep, smooth voice from the open doorway behind the harpy boy.

The poor lad squeaked and puffed up in surprise, floundering out of the doorway in a twittering spray of mousy feathers and gangly, avian legs, and everyone stared at the figure who had melted from the darkness beyond to fill the doorway completely.

It was impossible not to stare. You’d seen driders before, but you’d never seen one like him.

He moved on seven dark legs that were armoured with a natural carapace like a crab, with pointed spikes at the joints that glinted in the low light, and the eighth was a prosthetic, replaced below the articulated ‘knee’ joint of his right front leg with a shining, steel limb that had been sharpened to a point to match his other limbs, and which clinked softly when he walked. He had to duck almost double to squeeze through the tavern door that had been built wide and tall enough for even a draft centaur to get through.

As he leaned down, his straight, white hair fell forwards around his face like a shroud, momentarily concealing his slate-grey skin that was tinged with purple. He had four eyes, all completely black, and dark mandibles at the corners of his mouth, and as he entered the tavern, he took off his cocked hat and hooked it casually over the upward turning spikes on his left foreleg.

His spider’s body was huge and pendulous and black, covered in a downy fur that shifted like moonlight and spread up his human back, vanishing out of sight beneath a heavy, black coat with silver buttons and emblazoned on the back with the silver web of his ship’s emblem, the Widow’s Web.

Someone dropped a glass in the silence of his arrival, and you startled a little at the sound. Beside you, you heard Harrow inhale slowly. “Holy shit,” he hissed, and his dark, cloven hooves made a soft clopping against the flagstones as he sidled up to you. He was shorter than you, and you glanced down to find him looking up at you with wide, worried eyes. “That’s… That’s him…”

“Capitan Steelsling…” you whispered. “I thought he and the Widow’s Web were just… a myth? You know?” you added, glancing between Harrow and the pirate captain.

Behind Steelsling, a truly colossal, silk-white bison minotaur dipped her horns beneath the lintel and surveyed the room. She had red eyes and a pink nose, and was almost as legendary as her captain, and together, they made their way towards an empty table near the bar.

“Good luck, mate!” Harrow elbowed you in the ribs and ducked away with a mumbled lie about checking the stock.

You could hardly hear anything through the fear that had started a pounding at the back of your skull. You were going to have to go over there.

Still, they couldn’t be any worse than the naga who’d grabbed you with their tail and coiled around you tightly enough to make your ribs creak last week, only releasing you when the laughter of their companions had faded and you’d nearly passed out. Or the gnoll who’d tripped you into her lap and laughed about you being a soft little human while her claws had picked through your shirt. Or the siren who’d made you take your top off and dance a jig on the table with their hypnotic voice, to the rabid amusement of a packed bar. You’d endured a thousand humiliations in your life at Cutthroat Cove, and you were certain that you could weather whatever this dread pirate could dream up for you too.

Squaring your shoulders, you set the damp cloth down on the bar, wiped your hands on your trousers, and strode across the room towards the newcomers, with the eyes of the entire tavern on you.

The captain watched you approach with an unnerving intensity in his four, jet black eyes, but his minotaur first mate seemed entirely bored and unimpressed by the entire establishment. You included. Clearly you posed no threat to her or her captain, so she ignored you for the time being.

You drew to a halt in front of their table and looked up into the captain’s inhuman face. He was sharply handsome, with the hard, cut-glass plains of his cheeks and jawline thrown into start relief in the low light of the bar, and the thick, black, curved talons at the ends of his mandibles glinted in the lamplight like pieces of obsidian.

He tilted his head in a manner that might have been either patronising or curious, you couldn’t quite tell, and blinked his black, almond-shaped eyes slowly. The two pairs moved slightly out of time with each other, the smaller, lower outer pair starting first, followed by the larger inner pair. Holding his gaze for long though was like trying to hold an oil slick in your hands.

“What can I get for you?” you asked, cursing the way your voice cracked a little.

Conversation began to pick up hesitantly around you, and in the far corner, someone got out a tin whistle and began to play a well-known and popular song. The captain smiled when he heard it, his mandibles chittering briefly, and he leaned over to his first mate and grinned, “Remember when Keel played this and Harrik fell overboard trying to impress him?”

She snorted suddenly, her wild, white mane of curls bouncing and her large, fluffy ears flicking back and forth. “How could I forget that?” she chortled. “He looked like a wet rat when we hauled him back on deck. Couldn’t look Keel in the eye for a week!”

You stood stock-still while they reminisced, wary and patient and silent.

The captain turned sharply back to you and twitched his head a little. “My apologies,” he purred. “We are still waiting for a few more of our crew, but I know what they’ll have to drink at any rate. Perhaps you could bring a couple of pitchers of your finest ale over, and six tankards?”

You nodded and paused just long enough to see if they were going to add anything else to their order.

The first mate leaned forwards towards you, resting an elbow on the thick tabletop. It groaned under her muscular weight. “What’s in the kitchen tonight?” she asked. Her voice was rough and deep, but her tone was gentle enough.

“Roast pork,” you said quickly. “And boiled vegetables.”

The captain nodded. “We’ll wait for the others to order food, I think. If that’s alright with you?”

You blinked. “What?” you said before you’d thought about it. “I mean, of course. I’ll be right back with the ale. Excuse me.”

And with that, you bolted back to the bar, sweaty and a little shaky. They hadn’t been at all what you’d been expecting, and they weren’t like the usual patrons of the Salted Kipper.

Harrow had emerged by the time you returned, and he shot you a look. “Well?” he asked.

“Well what?” you snapped, distracted.

“Well what’s he like? I heard from Maggie that Steelsling ripped a human’s head clean off their shoulders just for looking at him too long, and one time, he used that legendary ‘steel’ web of his to garrote the commander of Port Liberty, but the thread was so fine the man didn’t know it had happened til he was bleeding out on the marble floor. And his first mate is hardly any better. I heard —”

“You shouldn’t listen to what people say,” you said with a frown as you fished the enormous pitchers out of the cupboard under the bar and turned to fill one from the barrel on the wall behind you. “You know how much bullshit gets peddled through here in a single night — how much sailors love to exaggerate.” In truth, you didn’t want Steelsling to overhear Harrow’s words and think you were gossiping about him.

“Yeah, but… no smoke without a fire, right?”

You just shook your head and concentrated on filling the pitcher without creating too much of a foaming head on the ale.

With the two pitchers set on a wide, wooden tray, along with the six empty tankards, you set off for their table again. En route, someone with sharp claws grabbed a fistful of your arse and you had to step over the swaying, serrated tail of a lizardfolk at the table next to the drider captain’s. She cackled a laugh at you when you nearly spilled the pitchers because of it. One slid a terrifying couple of inches along the tray as it tipped, and you wobbled in a desperate attempt to stop it sliding all the way off.

You cursed as you staggered, completely off balance, but something solid caught you at the hip and buttressed you up. Cold relief sloshed through you as you saved the pitchers from toppling off to make an ungodly mess all over the floor, only to look up and find that the drider captain himself had jutted out one of his huge, armoured legs to steady you. It was the steel prosthetic of his right foreleg, you realised, and you could feel its coldness seeping through your clothes the longer you stayed pressed against it.

All the blood drained from your face and you felt your jaw go slack. “I’m so sorry,” you blurted, and you almost leapt away from the contact to set the tray down, hoping to disappear as quickly as possible.

“It’s no trouble,” he said in his oddly polite, lyrical voice. You’d expected something coarse and harsh from the legendary sea captain, but he was refined and softly-spoken. “Does that happen often?” he asked, sounding genuinely curious.

“Uh…” you swallowed, stepping back with the tray held in front of you a bit like a shield. “I mean… I’m pretty much the only human on the island now, so where else are they going to get their fun, you know?”

You’d said it with a false lightness to your voice, hoping to make him smile and say ‘fair enough’, but his expression darkened and his eyes glittered dangerously.

“It’s fine,” you babbled. “Really. It’s harmless. They’re just blowing off steam, you know?”

That also didn’t help.

He glared around the room and you got the vague impression that the people who had been staring, hoping for an impressed reaction from him, suddenly looked away in shame.

“Excuse me,” you said again, and fled.

The rest of his crew arrived not long after that, and they were an equally odd mix of people: another drider, though she was stocky and built like a tarantula, and her arms and torso were thickly muscled where Steelsling’s body was lean and wiry; a delicate cervitaur who looked about as unlikely to find a home on the sea as the Empress herself, with a white coat and white antlers and a dancing, graceful way of walking that wouldn’t have been out of place in a palace; a rugged, crab-like merfolk who was armoured to the nines in his own orange chitin and had pincers for hands and a sour look on his face as he squeezed his bulky carapace between the tables; a forest naga with a rainbow shimmer to her tail and dreads that fell to her waist; a tiny, waifish, hummingbird harpy whose iridescence matched the naga’s in vibrancy if not in hue; and finally… a human?

Yet again that evening, you tried not to stare, but it was so unusual to find a human among a crew of pirates in these parts that you weren’t the only one taken aback. People hissed and whispered behind their mugs, but no one tried anything with the other human in the room. They saved that for the one they knew was alone and largely unprotected.

As you worked the other tables that night, dodging wayward hands and sneaking trip hazards in a familiar dance, you caught glimpses of the way the crew of the Widow’s Web laughed and joked among themselves. They were clearly close as family, the realisation of which struck you to the core with something akin to genuine, physical pain. The other pirates who frequented the Salted Kipper were business partners and tight-knit groups, but there was always something festering away beneath the surface — some jealousy or scheming distrust — but the Widow’s Web crew touched each other frequently with a friendly nudge or a playful shove, and they laughed. They laughed until they cried and fell about on each other’s shoulders over something and nothing, and even Steelsling himself seemed amused. He kept a little back from the others though, as though he wasn’t quite a part of it, and he kept his four eyes roaming the room every so often too, as though keeping watch for trouble. Wherever he looked, people looked away, uncertain.

Frequently, his glinting gaze landed on you. When that happened, you ducked your head and busied yourself with another task, but you felt the weight of his four eyes on you as you crossed the room all the same.

If the scattered crumbs of gossip were to be believed, which they rarely were, that night was the first time in six years that the Widow’s Web had formally put to shore, and no one expected to see them again for another six at least.

And yet, a month later, the door opened and in strode the hulking form of the first mate, accompanied by her eight-legged captain and a few of their crew.

You served them ale, and he asked you how you were as you set the pitchers down. “Fine, thanks,” you mumbled, head down.

It seemed to irritate him that you were so deferential, and he sighed sharply.

“You?” you added, glancing up as you tacked the question on as an afterthought.

His mandibles twitched in what might have been an arachnid smile and his shoulders dropped a visible inch. “I’m well, thank you. We had a successful couple of encounters on the Whale Road Shore lately.”

“You went all the way to the Whale Road Shore?” you gasped, staring openly at him. “But that’s… that’s at least a two week sail from here, even with the winds in your favour? How did you make it there and back in so little time?” Distances, maps, and charts had always fascinated you, the way a caged bird dreams of open windows.

Across the table, the first mate chuckled, and with a jolt you remembered yourself, and your place, immediately.

“Forgive me,” you said quickly. “I didn’t mean to pry. Enjoy your evening.”

“Wait?” came Steelsling’s soft, rich baritone. He didn’t speak loudly or harshly, but the simple, politely uttered question stopped you in your tracks. “You weren’t prying, and I don't mind. We have a wind witch aboard. Makes things much easier and faster.”

“Oh,” you breathed. A wind witch? Was there no end to this crew’s mystery?

“They’ll be here any minute,” Steelsling said carefully, deliberately, pointedly. “If you want to meet them.”

“Oh, no… thank you,” you said, despite the way your heart ached to meet a real wind witch. It was a particular talent that only humans had, though other species had similar gifts with the weather. It might have been nice to talk to another human after so long. “No, that’s alright. I don’t want to intrude, and I… I should get back to work.”

The captain just nodded, but he didn’t speak to you directly again that night. The human on his crew — the wind witch — did show up a little while later, accompanied by the pretty cervitaur and the fiery-looking orange merfolk, and the crew lost themselves again in their food and drink and conversation. All but one of the crew, you realised after they’d been there an hour. The captain himself was sitting back, resting his humanoid upper body against the wall of the inn, his spider legs tucked up tightly around him, almost like a cage of spiked, black steel with one silver bar, and he had his arms crossed over his chest and a dark glower on his face. You tried not to look at him when you discovered him already watching you, and you traded a week’s worth of floor scrubbing with Harrow to avoid serving their table again.

Month after month, the crew of the Widow’s Web returned to the Salted Kipper, and month after month, the captain watched you.

He watched you dodge the other patrons, sloughing off their insults and jibes and clumsy, pawing attempts to get you into their lap, and each time, his expression grew darker and more severe. He stopped taking part in his table’s merriment, glowering in the corner like a monster from a fairytale while his crew carried on around him. Only his first mate would frown at him and try and get him to engage, but he never did for long. You started to think you’d insulted him by refusing the honour of a conversation with the wind witch, and he was concocting a truly venomous revenge for your rudeness.

Then, after six straight months of visits, they vanished.

No one saw the black and silver sails of the Widow’s Web for months, and gossip about them erupted.

Rumours circulated like gulls on the wind: they’d been sunk by the Empire; they’d been swallowed up by a kraken who’d been hunting Steelsling for years after taking his right leg off; there’d been a mutiny and they’d all killed each other in the process; they’d strayed off the edge of the world; they’d strayed off the edge of the world and then returned with some mysterious illness; the captain had eaten his crew one at a time while stranded in the doldrums… Each theory was more ridiculous than the next, but you came to miss the crew’s polite presence in the corner of the inn. The lowering eyes of the deadliest pirate in the known kingdoms had gone some way to lessening the way you were treated as a human among so many of what the Empire called the ‘monstrous species’ and the ‘beast folk’. Monstrosity was a relative thing, you’d found.

One morning, after preparing the inn for the day, you headed down alone to the harbour to stock up on supplies for the kitchen. The folk who ran the market were used to you, given that you’d been on the island since you’d washed up there at the age of eight, and they’d stopped trying to fleece you on each purchase you made for Silas, who ran the inn.

You’d just added a box of smoked salt into the groaning basket on your arm when a gasp went up from the nearby shoppers and you turned to see what had snagged their attention. The elegant and eerie prow of the Widow’s Web — a series of carved, black spiders crawling up a cylindrical spar — and the furled black sails of the legendary ship as it was towed into port drew the attention of everyone in the harbour-side market.

You’d never seen them outside of the inn, and you watched as the small, efficient crew scuttled around making last-minute preparations to the lines and the sails before docking, and there, leaning his weight casually against the taffrail with his white hair streaming out behind him like a banner, was Captain Steelsling himself. Your mouth went dry at the sight of him and you stared openly, drinking in the contrast between the curve of his dark spider’s body and the angular lines of his slim, armoured legs. They looked like they could puncture the hull of a warship like a harpoon, and his prosthetic caught the sun and flashed blindingly for an instant.

You watched in awe as he left the deck and scuttled up the rigging with enviable ease to talk briefly to the figure tucked away in the crows nest. That done, he fearlessly descended the rigging and joined the others on the main deck. Just as he turned to give an order to someone on his left though, he froze and you looked on with an odd mix of trepidation and delight as he noticed you.

For a long time, he stared at you. Then, finally, he inclined his head and went about the business of making port.

You had intended to be gone from the market by the time the lengthy process of bartering for better docking fees was over, but fate it seemed had other ideas. You were halfway through haggling with the knife-sharpener for a more reasonable price for her services when she looked up and she dropped the small paring knife she’d been using as a prop to try and frighten you into giving in and accepting her price.

“Captain Steelsling…” the skinny naga exclaimed, and then she hissed at you. “Get out of the way, you little bilge-rat. Don’t you know who this is? My apologies, Captain, my apologies. How can I help you?”

“I know who he is,” you said carefully, turning and smiling shyly at him. His dark mandibles hitched up on one side and he crossed his arms. His long, white hair was plaited back off his face in a series of intricate, interlaced designs, cascading down over his trademark black coat with its silver buttons, and he looked so dashing that your heart skipped a beat. His captain’s hat was nowhere to be seen and he carried no visible weapon, but the authority washing off him was enough to make people skirt around him with their eyes averted.

“Good to see you again, and in daylight this time,” he said, and the knife-sharpener sputtered something unintelligible behind you while he ignored her completely. “How are you?”

“Well, thank you,” you replied. “You’ve been gone a long time…”

A sad expression flickered across his face. “Yes,” he sighed, and his posture sagged. “A sad business, but it’s over now. I’m glad to be back. I’ve grown rather fond of a certain inn here in Cutthroat Cove after all.”

“You have?” you asked, astonished. “I thought you only came to the Kipper because your crew like it. You always look so miserable.”

The knife-sharpener gasped audibly at your bluntness and started to titter something about offering him whatever he wanted, free of charge.

“I didn’t come to talk to you, and I sharpen my own blades, thank you,” he snapped at her, and turned to look over his shoulder, away from the market square. “Will you walk with me? I have a hankering to stretch my legs after so long at sea.”

“Uh…” You would expected back at the inn soon, but there was little you could do if the king of pirates himself wanted a moment of your time. “Sure.”

He smiled again, and held out a hand. “Let me take that for you.”

Still a little stunned, you mutely handed the creaking basket to him. He took it like it weighed nothing at all and hooked it over his other arm so that it was in no danger of swinging and accidentally clocking you around the head. He was massive on his stilt-like legs, after all.

You walked in silence for a little way, along the waterfront towards the old Imperial fortress that had been taken over by the Raven Queen - the local pirate power in these waters. She, ultimately, deferred to Steelsling though, as most pirates did. And there you were, trotting along at his needle-like heels while everyone stared.

“Why would you think I’m miserable when I’m at the tavern?” he asked after a while.

“What? Oh… I didn't mean to offend you,” you said quickly. “I’m sorry.”

He sighed at that, and you got the feeling you’d said the wrong thing. Instead of pressing the issue though, he paused at a bend in the fortification walkway and looked directly at you. “Why do you stay here?” he asked.

You frowned. “I don’t understand.”

“If you’re so unhappy here — treated so poorly — why do you stay?”

You scoffed a little laugh and turned to look out at the bright blue sea.

A strong wind was whipping the peaks of the waves to foam and the gulls dipped and soared on the currents, buffeted this way and that and seeming to love every minute of it. Further out, near the cliffs off Needle Point, gannets speared straight down from the clear sky with barely a splash as they disappeared into the waves, chasing the fish that glittered and flashed beneath the surface.

Salt air filled your nose as you inhaled and you shook your head. “Don’t have much choice, I guess. I can’t afford passage on a ship — not at the prices they charge a human — and… I have nowhere else to go anyway.”

“No family?” he asked carefully.

You shook your head. “No. My parents were killed when the Albatross was captured.”

You caught the soft inhale of shock from the drider captain and turned to look up at him. His solid, black eyes were wide and his mandibles had parted to reveal soft, almost human-like lips behind, and a row of sharp, white teeth. The soft, ombré shading of grey that spread up his jaw, fading from almost coal black around his mandibles to a heather grey around his eyes, was almost mesmerising enough to ignore the look of open horror on his face. “Your parents were on the Albatross?” he whispered at last.

You nodded. “My da was the cook. Ma was a gunner.”

His black eyebrows rose at that. “But you survived?”

“Got washed overboard,” you shrugged. “I was eight.” You fought down a tide of sickening memories and rested your forearms on the stone wall of the old fort.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “My first mate, Ellary, led the mutiny against the captain of the Bloodcrest after what he did to the Albatross. She killed him herself.”

“Good.” Somehow, that did bring a bitter kind of consolation, and you managed a smile. “Anyway,” you said. “When I washed up here, Silas took me in as a pot-washer and floor-scrubber at the Salted Kipper. It’s not so bad…” you said, but you didn’t sound convincing, even to your own ears.

Steelsling shot you a flat look. “I’ve seen the way they treat you there,” he growled. “I’d have cut off their hands if they tried to touch me like that.”

“Yeah, well, we can’t all shoot barbed wire out of our bodies, can we?” you said, speaking yet again without thinking first.

Instead of being insulted though, the captain laughed loudly and freely. “I suppose not,” he said when the sound faded naturally, like a retreating wave on the shore. “Listen, there’s an opening on my crew. It’s nothing exciting, but we’re a soul down now, since Tammas had to go back to his family on land, and I’d like to ask you to join us.”

You blinked at him. “Me?”

“Yes.”

“But… Why? I haven’t been at sea since I was eight. I’d be no use to you.”

“I know for a fact you can cook, and I bet you’re just as capable at mending and fixing things. Besides, I think you’d make a good fit in our family.”

Sure, you’d grown pretty handy in a number of areas over the years, but you were hardly a sailor. “You’d do better to ask around the market,” you said, fighting down a wave of anxious pressure in your chest. “I — Thank you, for the offer, but I should get going. They’ll be wondering where I am.”

You turned without another word and walked away before you’d even realised he still had your basket over his arm. Seconds later, he scuttled up behind you, his needle-like legs making scarcely a sound on the stone, save for the single steel pin of his prosthetic, and he darted in front of you, blocking the way with his body. Your breath caught as a moment of panic flared and dissolved almost immediately. He held the basket out to you but didn’t relinquish it once your fingers gripped the handle. “Think about it,” he said. “The Widow stays here for a week, but I shan’t push you.”

And with that, he let go and stepped to one side, and you fled back to the tavern with your heart pounding.

You dropped three tankards that night, tripped over two tails that weren’t even in your way, and nearly landed in a slime’s lap before Harrow pulled you to one side and asked if you were coming down with something.

You shook your head. “No, I’m sorry. I’m just… distracted.”

“What’s going on?”

With a sigh, you told him, and he gawped at you like you’d grown another head when you got to the part about being offered a spot on Steelsling’s crew.

True to his word, Captain Steelsling and his crew stayed away from the tavern until the very last night that the Widow was due to stay in port. When Ellary opened the door and stepped in, the usual hush descended on the common room, and Harrow shot you a look. ‘Do it’ he mouthed at you along the length of the bar, and you sucked in a huge breath for courage and held it til your lungs burned.

When you made no move and looked like you might possibly throw up instead, Harrow marched over to you and poked you right in the centre of your chest, none too gently. “Fucking do it,” he said. “I’m going to miss the hell out of you, but if you don’t take this chance, you’ll never get off this gods-forsaken lump of rock. Plus, he fucking likes you.” When you frowned, Harrow rolled his eyes. “The dread pirate Steelsling, who famously never comes ashore, takes one look at you and comes back here to this shitty tavern once a fucking month for six fucking months, apologises for being away for so long without telling you, threatens to personally skin anyone who lays a hand to you, and —”

“— wait, what?”

“Oh.” Harrow’s dark eyes widened guiltily. “You didn’t know?”

“No, I didn’t know! What the fuck?”

Harrow shifted his weight. “I only learned about it when I overheard Lannicka grousing about how she wanted to teach you a lesson but didn’t want to wake up in a fucking web, dangling off a spar on her own ship…” He cleared his throat and glanced at the floor between his dark goat’s hooves. Behind him, his tail swished back and forth. “Turns out your captain overheard someone a few nights ago down at the docks laughing about getting you to spill ale all down your shirt, and he let it be known that the way people treated you was… ‘unacceptable’…”

“I wondered why people had backed off a bit this week,” you muttered. “I just thought they’d finally had enough fun and got bored with picking on the human.” You wanted to be angry with him for doing it behind your back, but it had made your work noticeably easier.

Harrow looked across the common room and his tapered ears pulled back suddenly, his multiple earrings flashing in the lamplight. “His first mate’s looking at you. She just pointed at you and beckoned you over.”

With a sigh, you turned your back on Harrow and looked at Ellary. She cocked her head to one side in a silent, expectant question.

“Go,” Harrow said. “I’ll miss the fuck out of you, but —”

“That doesn’t even make sense,” you laughed, already taking your apron off. You hugged him and he hugged you back. “Thank you for taking care of me,” you said. “You could have been like everyone else, but you weren’t, and I’ll always love you for that.”

He squeezed you more tightly. “Don’t forget about me, alright?”

“Never,” you promised, and set your apron on the counter top. “And thank Silas for me too,” you said. “He could have turned me away.”

“Still could have treated you better,” Harrow growled, canines showing.

You shrugged. “Doesn’t matter now though, does it?” you said, and grabbed the small bag you'd packed earlier and stowed beneath the bar. “Take care, alright?”

He nodded. “You too.”

When Ellary saw the bag in your hand, she grinned and stood up. Beside her, the delicate cervitaur rose from the soft cushion they’d been seated on — or, more appropriately, draped across like a slightly wilted lily — and flicked an ear at you.

“You’re coming along, then,” Ellary said, clapping you on the shoulder hard enough to send you staggering. You reeled backwards and found yourself righted by the crab-folk merman, who laughed like an open drain.

“I hope your sea-legs are better than that, friend,” he guffawed, snapping his pincers like percussion instruments.

“Last time I used my sea legs, I was eight,” you said, embarrassed. “I’ll be lucky if I’m not throwing up over the sides before we leave port.”

“Ah, Anneke has a potion or concoction for everything, seasickness included. You’ll be fine. Come on,” he said, and he chivvied you out of the tavern amid a forest of astonished gazes from the patrons.

When you reached the harbour, with the small fishing boats gently bobbing and the larger ships creaking and swaying at their stone quays, you had begun to wonder what you’d got yourself into. Ellary had strode along on huge, near-silent hooves, her scarlet coat flapping open to reveal only the thick fur of her pelt and the vaguest impression of her physique underneath, and Macs, the crab-folk — who apparently never shut up unless Ellary threatened to put him in a cook pot — had talked himself hoarse about their plans for the coming weeks’ sailing, while Phlox, the cervitaur, had tittered at almost every joke Macs made. You snorted softly through your nose when you realised that the most fearsome and mythical pirate crew of the era were actually a bunch of kind-hearted dorks.

“Something funny, human?” Macs asked, glancing sidelong at you while you all headed along the stone dock towards the sleeping figure of the Widow’s Web where she rocked quietly in the darkness.

“You know what?” you said, “I was actually afraid of you lot when you first walked into the tavern.”

“Ha!” he barked, and elbowed you in the ribs so hard you actually tripped over your feet at last and went sprawling sideways onto the stones. Or at least, you would have done, had Ellary not anticipated it and grabbed you at the last minute and hauled you up again with her huge hands.

“For fuck’s sake,” she muttered. “Can’t even take you to collect a new crew member without you causing physical harm to someone, Macs,” she said, and then looked at you. “He’s our master gunner, believe it or not.”

You raised your eyebrows and he clacked his pincers together. “Ain’t no one able to make a shot like me, human,” he grinned. “You can bet your unarmoured hide on it.”

“I’ll take your word for it.”

“I’ll show you, soon as we clear the reef tomorrow,” he said, puffing his chest up enough that Phlox giggled again and he looked mightily pleased with himself.

“I live with a bunch of buffoons,” Ellary said dryly and ushered you up the gangplank ahead of her, probably so that if you tripped, she could catch you before you toppled head-first into the salty, sloshing muck of the harbour at high tide.

A flap of dark wings from the rigging above made you look up once you were aboard, and a black-feathered kenku dropped to the deck. In Ellary’s own voice, using what was clearly a carefully-curated selection of her own words, parroted back at her, they said, “About time you got here. Captain’s gonna start spitting webs in a minute.”

Ellary snorted a laugh and turned to introduce you to the kenku. “This is Specs,” she said, gesturing at the avian creature. “Lookout and navigation.”

“Pleasure,” you said, muttering your own name.

In Macs’ voice this time, Specs cackled, “Nice to have new blood aboard.”

“C’mon. I’ll show you where to put your stuff, and we’ll find our illustrious, brooding captain, shall we?” Ellary sighed.

Knocking on the carved, ebony door of the captain’s quarters a short while later, Ellary didn’t wait to be called in, barging her shoulder against the salt-warped wood and stepping in with the familiar ease of a lifelong friend.

Part of you had expected to find webs slung in the corners and the carcasses of dessicated animals dangling from the ceiling, but of course, it was just a simply but comfortably furnished cabin, with a large desk smothered in charts and navigational instruments. The captain himself was standing behind it, his body little more than a dark silhouette against the large window at the rear of the ship, and his silver hair dangling like a drifting ghost in the light breeze that wafted in with Ellary.

The minotaur shoved you into the room and saluted the captain without a word before leaving, closing the door behind her.

“You… You decided to come?” he faltered, sounding unsure of himself for the first time.

You nodded. “I do have a bone to pick with you though, Captain,” you added and he cocked his head.

“Oh?”

“What’s this I hear about you threatening to flay people on my behalf?”

He did have the good grace to look embarrassed about that, and dropped his onyx gaze to the floor. “I apologise,” he said. “I lost my temper with someone in the docks, and did nothing to stop the spread of the rumour once it started.”

You shrugged. “Figured that was how it had gone.”

“Did Ellary show you your quarters?” he asked, as much to change the subject as to find out the answer.

With a nod, you looked around his cabin. “Nicer than a mouldy mattress in the Kipper’s storeroom,” you said. “When do we sail?”

“With the tide,” he said. “I’d almost abandoned hope you were coming with us.”

“Why did you want me, really?” you asked with narrowed eyes.

He sighed and came around the desk to stand in front of you, his prosthetic making a soft ‘pinging’ noise on the wood as the wickedly sharp tip pulled free with each step. You wondered, not for the first time, how he’d lost the limb, but didn’t ask.

“I warmed to you the moment you spoke to me,” he said simply. “You were afraid, but you still came over, and you were… yourself. The others… they all know my — our— reputation, and that changes how they speak to me, how they act around my crew, but you remained yourself, and I admired that.”

Swallowing, you tried not to choke. Other than Harrow, no one had ever made you feel like you were worth more than a passing moment their time, but here was the most successful pirate captain in the known kingdoms, telling you he thought that who you were was valuable to his crew. To his family.

“Look, you must be tired,” he said, clearly reading your emotions and not wanting to overwhelm you. “Why don’t you settle in for the night? We’ll sail within the hour, but you don’t have to do anything. Of course, you’re welcome wherever you like on the ship, but no one will ask anything of you just yet.”

Blinking through your tears you nodded and choked out a vague ‘thank you’ before vanishing below.

It was three days before you felt like you could contribute anything useful, and, just as he’d promised, no one asked anything of you until then.

After three months as part of the crew, you knew you were never going to set foot on land again willingly, and you understood why they just kept sailing from prize to prize. It was bliss. Even in the worst of the weather, you felt safe. Anneke, the weather witch, kept the most violent of storms from touching the ship, and the crew knew their business, tightening and trimming the rigging and the sails til the ship fairly thrummed with the joy of being at sea.

Ellary, you came to learn over the course of many an evening, had a dry sense of humour that left you breathless before guffawing a great laugh that would have made you self-conscious before, and Macs was just as bad. He was a practical joker, but never in a way that made you feel small or embarrassed. You met the other elusive members of the crew as well — those who had not felt confident or comfortable in coming ashore — and you fell slowly in love with all of them in their own way. Minal, an aqrabuamelu with a scorpion’s body and a human’s torso, was the cheery chef of the ship, and Gráinne, a selkie with a voice like singing glass and a burn scar across her face, was the ship’s quartermaster. Others on the crew included another minotaur named Wilf, a huge but incredibly sweet gnoll with a habit of giggling at the most inappropriate of moments, and a twitchy werefox named Keel who still treated you with suspicion, even after three months.

But above all, you found yourself drawn back to the captain. He stood on the deck with the wind in his hair and a smile on his handsome, inhuman face, and he looked truly relaxed. His strange body absorbed the motion of the sea and the rocking of the ship, and he would just as happily spend the morning dangling from his webs amid the rigging, scouting the horizon with Specs, as on the solid deck below, but oddly enough, when he seemed most happy, he was with you.

He taught you to read the charts properly and to map the course of the sun, to plot the stars and read the ocean currents and the patterns of the birds. He introduced you to the colony of orca merfolk who hunted just off the shore and provided information on the movements of the Imperial navy. He ate with the crew on the deck on warm nights, laughing shyly and encouraging them to play their instruments and dance and sing. Keel was a talented violinist, and Harrik, the gnoll, would always watch him with wide, dark, bashful eyes. It was unbearably sweet.

One night, as you leaned back on your hands and tilted your face to the stars while the others continued their revels, you caught a huge sigh from the captain, and glanced up just as he looked away from you and rose to stalk away towards the stern of the ship.

With a little frown, you noticed the way Ellary shook her head too, and when you met her gaze she rolled her red eyes and said under her breath so that no one else would hear above Keel’s lively gig, “Go after him, for pity’s sake.”

You nodded, and slipped away from the others. Climbing the stairs to the deck above the captain’s quarters, where you weren’t really supposed to be, you found him staring out over the ship’s wake, leaning his forearms on the taffrail and resting his great spider body on the boards of the ship’s deck. He looked small and sad and deflated in a way you’d never known, and it sent a frisson of worry through you.

“Captain?” you asked.

He startled a little despite the noise your boots had made on the stairs, and he twitched around to look at you. His breath caught audibly in the moonlight and you watched him swallow. “Yes?”

“Are you alright, Captain?”

His large eyes turned especially glassy for a second and he looked away. “Yes,” he lied.

“Captain, you —”

“It’s Ruven.”

“What?”

“My name. It’s Ruven.”

“Oh,” you breathed, wondering how you’d gone so long without learning it. Then again, everyone called him ‘captain’ with the same affection they called you ‘human’. “Can I join you, Ruven?”

Slowly, and with an unbearable sadness in his eyes, he looked back over his shoulder at you. He was wearing only an undyed linen shirt, and it flapped loosely around his lean torso in the breeze. It made you want to touch, to draw it up to expose the musculature and chitinous plating underneath, to explore his body with your hands. “Yes,” he said quietly.

You approached on his right side and watched as he drew his long legs in a little closer to his body, as if to welcome you further into his space. You leaned your weight carefully against his steel prosthetic, knowing it could take it, and he let out a shaky breath.

He towered over you but you’d never felt more at ease with someone, and he nestled a little further down to accommodate your height. You smiled at him. “Thank you, Ruven,” you said, trying out his name again and enjoying the sound of it on your tongue.

“For what?”

You shrugged and stared out at the dark sea, a little overwhelmed. Little flashes of phosphorescence danced on the ship’s wake, like a heartbeat in the depths. “For giving me a family again,” you said with a glance back at the crew who were capering about on the deck below. “For making me feel loved.”

“You are loved,” he said without hesitation. He exhaled your name and leaned down to take your fingers in his dark grey hands. “You are loved,” he said again with sincerity burning in his black eyes. “Never doubt that.”

You smiled up at him, and gently tugged one hand free of his, then reached up to cup his sharp face in your palm. “I don’t. Not now.” You ran the pad of your thumb along his right mandible and he shuddered bodily, eyes rolling shut with a rasping breath. “You’re so beautiful,” you whispered.

A second or two later, a large, slow tear rolled from one eye, down his cheek to splash onto the deck between you.

“Ruven?”

“No one has ever said that to me,” he croaked, nudging his cheek further into your palm without opening his eyes again. “Terrible, monstrous, ruthless… but never beautiful.”

“Always beautiful,” you said, and he picked you up.

He held you to his chest, supported by the knees of his forelegs, and hugged you. His hands began to wander and you gasped, arching into his touch.

“Take me below,” you whispered and he smiled. “I’m yours.”

He didn’t linger, scuttling silently down the gangway to his cabin and closing the door behind him.

He laid you down on his large, soft bed and took you apart with slow kisses and lingering touches until you were moaning his name and shaking with a pleasure you never dared dream would be yours.

“Come over me,” you gasped as he kissed you where you were most sensitive, enjoying the taste and feel of you. “Please, I need —”

“Don’t encourage me,” he laughed. “I’m so close, and I’m making such a mess…”

You looked up at that and saw that he was dripping clear fluid from his abdomen onto the floor beside the bed.

“I’ve never made such a mess,” he laughed again.

“Please…”

He shifted his legs, looming over you again, and he rubbed his sensitive core over your legs, enjoying the slide of your bodies together at last. In three strokes, he came undone and cried out, arching his human spine to bring his spider’s body close to you, and he came with a yell in a wave over your lower body, his legs twitching and his body convulsing.

When he was utterly spent, he lay down beside you on his back and you curled up next to his cool, human torso, tracing the lines of chitin plating where his abdomen blended into the soft, moonlight fur of his spider’s body. He twitched occasionally but otherwise lay still and stared at you with his black eyes.

“I love you,” he said, apropos nothing.

You kissed him and let his mandibles rake tenderly over your cheeks while he kissed you back. “I love you too, Captain,” you smiled and he groaned into the kiss. “I love you too.”

__

Thanks for reading this story, and I hope you’ll consider reblogging it (as well as leaving a like) if you enjoyed it, as that will help others find it.

Take care, and I hope you have a lovely day/night wherever you are, and whenever you read this.

Masterlist | Ko-fi (tip jar)

#drider #spider monster #drider boyfriend #monster boyfriend #spider monster boyfriend #exophilia #monster pirate #pirate monster #pirate #pirate romance

[littlegrrl7]

Click here for more details!

Cover art by @madbrake

Please share to your favorite writers and authors!

Submission Guidelines

 What we want: Bring us your pirates, mermaids, sea witches, selkies, sea nymphs, cecaelias, and krakens. We’re looking for Sapphic* fantasy tales that explore love on the high seas. If it’s Sapphic fantasy and aquatic, we want to see it!

 All levels of fantasy are fine, low (magical realism) to high (epic fantasy).

 Happily Ever After or Happy For Now ending required. No cliffhangers, please.

 Co-authors are welcome.

 *We define sapphic as an umbrella term that encompasses lesbian, bisexual, pansexual, and queer women, and is inclusive of trans women, non-binary people, and cis women. 

 Heat levels: No erotica, but we are open to all heat levels (from sweet to spicy)

 What we DON’T want: No triggering subjects such as on-page non-consensual sex, incest, and excessive gore. Subjects like racism, homophobia, transphobia, religion, discrimination of any kind, and anything else otherwise triggering or hurtful must be challenged on-page in a conscientious way. 

 Submissions Open: June 1, 2023 – November 30, 2023

 Title: The Pull of the Tide

 Type: Anthology of short stories

 Length: 4k – 20k words

 Publication: e-book and print

#sapphic author #sapphic #sapphic books #mermaids #pirate romance #indie author #submission open #sapphic fantasy #sapphic romance #sapphic representation

[divinebunni]

my newest book release ! Part two of my lesbian pirate romance ~ available for .99 cents or free with KDP select on amazon ! my whole library is only .99 cents per, so grab them all and give em a looksee 🤭 they’ll certainly bring a little tingle to your day ~

#me. #writing #soft #aesthetic #tease #pirate romance #novel #buy my book

[flowersandbigteeth]

Meeting your demon pirate boyfriend

General plot: A demon pirate wins you in a card game

This is slightly off brand, it's not too monstery more piratey but I had it in my head...

Demon pirate (Harland) x gender neutral reader

💕 SFW MASTERPOST 💕

Word Count: 1k

W: gag, restraints, threats of sa, mostly sfw pirate fluff

You glared at the pirate as he threw another few cards down, biting down on your gag. Only a few hours earlier you’d been working at this very tavern, serving ale to the regulars of the small seaside town you lived in completely oblivious to how your day would end. 

The pirates had taken the town easily. It only employed a small militia of skinny fisherman armed with spears while they had swords and cannons. The ones that didn’t run away immediately died screaming and the citizens they didn’t kill were divided up between them. 

Now that the fun part was over, they’d crowded into the tavern to drink whatever ale was behind the counter and gamble. Only the pirate holding you by the hair was using you as a chip. 

“You have to give me a chance to win 'em back, Harland,” he pleaded as he examined his losing hand splayed out on the table, “look at that ass!” 

“No, I don’t think I will,” the captain of the ship chuckled at him, slapping his hands on his knees, “I’m bored with cards. Go find one of the leftovers from the pen to fuck around with, there are plenty left.” 

He eyed you and you balled up trying to make yourself small. Curling his fingers at you he beckoned for you to crawl over to him. The pirate holding you loosened his grip and shoved you forward with a pout. A sore loser. You fell forward on your face, tangled up in your apron.

The captain chuckled at you, dragging you towards him by the straps of your apron. He was a demon, so he was much larger than you with thick, dark horns jutting out of his head. Narrowing his black eyes at you, he pulled your chin between his fingers and turned your head from side to side, examining you. 

“You’re a pretty one,” he said, licking a gold fang, “you’ll do nicely.” 

You trembled in front of him, terrified of what would come next. He threw you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and climbed the stairs to the rooms above. Instinctually, you fought, thrashing on his shoulder and probably bruising your sides.  

He tossed you on a bed and shut the door, locking it behind him. You scooted as far away from him as possible, cowering in the corner. 

“You don’t have to be so frightened,” he said, “I’m not going to hurt you.” 

As if to prove his point, he untied the gag from your head and freed your wrists. You watched in terror as he crossed the room and pulled a book from a bag. He tossed it to you and you looked confused. 

“W-what is this?” you asked, holding it up. 

“A book,” he chuckled, “please tell me that you can read.” 

You nodded hesitantly. 

“Then read it,” he said. 

You shakily opened the pages and stared at the words, but you didn’t process any of it. You were still terrified and now confused. 

“Out loud,” he growled and you swallowed hard, forcing your eyes to focus. 

You read the first page to him, your voice shaking. It was a story about an old man climbing a mountain. 

“Mmm,” he hummed, “I like your voice. I made a good choice.” 

He sank down onto the bed next to you and put his arms behind his head, leaning back against the wall and getting comfortable. 

“Keep going,” he prompted you when you’d paused. 

You read to him for a few hours until you glanced up and found his eyes were closed. Sure he’d fallen asleep, you quietly crept to your feet. 

“There’s no sense in trying to run away” he said startling you, wrapping his big hands around your waist and pulling you into his lap, “you’re staying with me.” 

“You can’t do this!” you cried, trying escape his iron grip. 

He jerked your chin up to him so that you had to meet his eyes. 

“Do you want me to give you to the rest of my men to do what they want with you?” he asked, “maybe I should lock you naked in the stocks in the middle of town, see if you’ve changed your mind in a day or two.” 

Your mouth snapped shut. He gave you a cruel smile. 

“If you want my protection, you’ll do what I say,” he said, “otherwise…” 

He let you come to your own conclusions. You wanted to spit in his face, but you swallowed it down and relaxed in his arms. 

“That’s a good pet,” he said, stroking your hair, “I’m not a cruel master. I can make you a very happy little companion if you let me.” 

You whimpered, struggling with your impulse to fight. The pirate watched your conflict, amused. 

“Eager for my men?” he asked you, dragging a claw over your cheek. 

You glared at him and stiffly shook your head. 

“Good,” he said, baring his big teeth at you, “it would be a pity if they got to touch you before me.” 

You stiffened and he pulled you close to him, rubbing your head. You were surrounded by his musky scent, strong from all the day's exertion.  

“You can relax,” he said, “I’m not going to force you. I’ve never needed to force anyone in my life. You’ll be on your knees begging for my cock in a few days all on your own.” 

You let out a relieved breath, though you scoffed at the last part. He was horrible. There was no way in hell you were fucking him if he wasn’t going to force you.  

“Then what are you going to do with me?” you asked, afraid to hear the answer. 

He looked at you as if that should be obvious. 

“I want you to read to me and when you aren’t doing that you can follow me around for status. It looks good to have a pretty toy on your arm,” he winked at you, "of course we'll have to get you some nicer outfits, maybe a leash."

He held a limp lock of hair in his hand, damp from your panicked sweat.

"...a haircut."

You were a little taken aback at how vain this pirate was, but now that you got a good look at him you should have guessed. He was adorned with a clump of gold chains and his shirt was a fine material with shiny gold buttons even though it had a bit of blood spattered on it. Punched into his pointed ears were a variety of earrings with sparkling jewels and his fingers were laden with shiny rings.

“Now,” he said, putting the book back in your hands, “start where you left off.”

He leaned back, absently dragging his claws through your hair, while you read to him late into the night.

#pirate romance #monster romance #pirate #pirate oc #demon #demon oc #monster human #monster x human #monster fluff #fluff #pirate fluff #sfw fluff #oneshot #my fic post #my fic #monster x gender neutral reader

[orchideous-nox]

Rosekiller Pirate AU - Chapter 2

This is a long one, 10.2k words but filled with lots of fluff and smut and totally isn't me pre-apologising for what is to come.

This is also the first chapter with everyone's favourite Pirate Captain, The Sea Wolf, Remus Lupin.

Since returning home, there had been a difference in Evan. For one, his accent seemed much stronger than before and it made Barty weak in the knees. But Barty was able to tell that this was home to Evan, a place he knew and felt comfortable in, and it looked good on him. Everything about Evan drove Barty insane and it had only become worse since being on the ship together. Half of his time was spent actively seeking out Evan, only to realise they weren’t alone and begrudgingly trying to put distance between them again. It was like they were connected by a spring, except each time Barty had left, he was pulled back harder than the time before. Evan tasted so fucking good, Barty couldn’t put his finger on why, but it was like part of Evan’s molecular make up was created to attract Barty, it was in their DNA to be together like this. Each place Evan touched him, the way he held Barty’s hips as he shifted into his lap, straddling the man, it felt like the skin should hold some permanent mark that Evan’s hands had been there. He wanted to be covered in memories.

As I mentioned yesterday, Afraid of Heights was the bane of my existence when I was writing one scene in particular so please suffer with me.

Anyway, enjoy the gay pirates < 3

#marauders #marauders fanfiction #hp marauders #marauders era #dead gay wizards from the 70s #rosekiller #barty crouch jr #barty crouch junior #evan x barty #barty x evan #barty jr #pirates #pirate au #pirate fic #pirate marauders #pirate lily evans #pirate remus lupin #pirate romance #the marauders #fanfics #marauders fandom #fanfiction #fanfic #evan rosier #evan rosier fic #lily evans #remus lupin #remus john lupin #peter pettigrew #james potter

[will-you-stay-with-me-forever]

pirate aesthetic moodboard <3

#pirates #pirate aesthetic #aesthetic moodboard #dark aesthetic #pirate romance #raven makes moodboards

[dont-take-life-to-seriously]

“You’re my beautiful monster.”

The Ever King: A Dark Fantasy Romance (The Ever Seas Book 1)

#the ever king #the ever queen #the ever seas #dark fantasy #fae #erik x livia #erik bloodsinger #Livia ferus #queen of the ever #pirate romance #Viking #Vikings #Viking fantasy #hades and persephone #Romantsy #🌶️ #spicy #spicy fantasy #book illustration #norse mythology #fairy tale retelling #pirates meets Vikings #enimes to lovers #forced proximity #villian gets the girl #lj andrews #amazing #fae romance #steamy #indie author

[lisafoxromance]

If you haven't had a chance to play it yet, A Pirate's Pleasure is on sale on Steam until Thursday. You can also get an amazing bundle of all the Heart's Choice games for a super low price! 🖤🏴☠

#interactive fiction #choice of games #hearts choice #steam sale #pirate romance #lisa fox #a pirate's pleasure

[sarawritestories]

1000 Followers WIP Part 2

For the Second Part of Sharing some of my original work Along with a fun little Mood Board. This is My Original Pirate Story that I'm working on. You can find it below the cut

Allow me to introduce Alana Carter and Captain Zayn Cinderhell

The vibrant colors of the waterfall, a stark difference from where we went a week before. Letting the sun kiss my skin and hearing the insects and birds flying. "It's beautiful," I whispered as Zayn approached.

A loud thud drew my attention away from the sun to Zayn who had removed his sword from his hip. His shirt was the next thing he discarded. Scars of various sizes faded white, a distinct contrast to his sun kissed skin. My eyes raked over his muscled body, he pulled the tie from his hair the black locks, covering the sliver of gray on the sides. I turned to look back out at the water.

"Treasure?" Zayn questioned his deep voice like a siren call to me. I took a deep breath as I could hear him approach.

Taking off my boots I stepped into the lake letting the cold water hit my calves. Closing my eyes I listened for his footsteps, the warmth of his body heat cocooned me, the smell of ocean breeze and jasmine overwhelm my senses. I opened my eyes to find my hands hovering over my waist, "May I?"

I nodded my head words drying up in my throat. The small breeze kissing my mid drift as Zayn bunched my shirt slowly lifting up past my stomach my arms creating a barrier. "Lift up your arms, Alana." his voice not that of a captain but something more.

Uncrossing my arms and raising them above my head. With ease he hoisted the tunic off my body and tossed it aside. The warmth of his body near mine made me self-conscious covering my bare chest and my exposed stomach. Aware that my body carried more weight than the athletic build of his.

I closed my eyes as his hands traced my arms grasping lightly on my wrists pulling them away from my body as his lips touched the crux of my ear, "Don't hide from me, Treasure." His lips brushing my cheek, with a sharp intake of breath I laid my head on his shoulder, my eyes fluttering shut.

His hands intertwined with mine as he began to trail our hands traced every curve, and stretch mark. "Let me tell you something," His lips moved down to my neck, pressing featherlight kisses down to my shoulder. "Every scar, every stretch mark, and every curve, tells a story." he paused as our hands reached my hips and above my stomach. He pulled me flush against his chest, "Your story." I opened my eyes and met his gaze. His green eyes glanced down at my lips and back up at me.

He pulled away and released my hands the warmth instantly vanishing from my body. I turned slowly to face him, forcing my hands to stay at my sides. His lips turned upward has he looked me from head to toe, "A beautiful story it tells, Alana. Don't ever feel like you have to hide it, especially from me." His grin fell into a tight line causing my spine to straighten.

"What's wrong?" I asked as he leaned in, thumb grazing my cheeks wiping away stray tears I didn't know had fallen.

"I did not mean to make you upset," Zayn let his hand linger on my cheek.

I shook my head leaning into his hand, "you didn't," taking that same hand from face and gave him a smile, "just never had anyone say such lovely things about my body. Thank you, Zayn." I kissed his knuckles, "I almost miss when we spent most of our time arguing."

Zayn laughed and the sound was beautiful and the sound was whimsical and light, "I'm sure we will find many more things to argue about." He glanced at my lips once more.

"Zayn?" My voice barely above a whisper.

"Yes?"

"Kiss me."

He cupped my face in his callous hands, "With pleasure," He crashed his lips against mine.

#aspiring author #wip #original character #original story #my novel #novel idea #pirates #pirate romance

[jessread-s]

Thanks to @fiercereadsya for providing me with an e-ARC in exchange for an honest review

✩⚔️🗺️Review: 

Tricia Levenseller just doesn’t miss when it comes to pirate adventure novels! 

Following the events of the “Daughter of the Pirate King” duology, “Vengeance of the Pirate Queen” centers around Sorinda Veshtas, the pirate queen’s assassin. As a newly appointed captain, Sorinda is dispatched on a rescue mission. Unfortunately, her sailing master just so happens to be Kearan Erroth, the one person attuned to her every movement in the shadows. Sadly, it’s near impossible to avoid him on a ship with few hiding places. But when the crew faces the King of the Undersea, a being who can control the dead, Sorinda’s helmsman might be the only one that can save her from becoming an undead queen. 

I. Love. Sorinda. Veshtas. I always have ever since reading “Daughter of the Pirate Queen.” Now I love her even more. Levenseller never fails to create strong female characters and Sorinda might just be the fiercest one of all. Her past is revealed in bits and pieces. Once I saw the whole picture I was devastated. Her vengeance for what happened to her family is a driving force in her life and motivated her to become a weapon. At the same time, she is consumed by guilt. 

Kearan is the one who helps her realize that she is worthy of life, love, and saving and that it is okay to lean on others. Their romance truly left me a sopping mess. I enjoyed watching Sorinda try to avoid him as much as possible until she could no longer ignore her budding feelings. Watching their squabbles turn into playful banter. Their reluctant love story is a beautiful one as they learn to confide in each other and accept their own flaws. 

As a huge fan of the Pirates of the Caribbean franchise, I enjoyed how this book pays homage to The Curse of the Black Pearl. I was on the edge of my seat, soaring through each chapter wondering how Sorinda and her crew would defeat an army of the undead. The explosive ending does not disappoint. This swashbuckling adventure fulfilled all of my pirate loving dreams! 

Cross-posted to: Instagram | Amazon | Goodreads | StoryGraph

#vengeance of the pirate queen #daughter of the pirate king #daughter of the siren queen #sorinda veshtas #kearan erroth #ya adventure #pirate romance #forced proximity #morally grey characters #ya romance #pirate books #adventure books #ya fantasy #fantasy romance #romantasy #book review #booklr #book blog #book blogger #bookish #book rec #ya lit #ya recs

[amandacanwrite]

OC Greatest Hits Tag

Rules: Choose an OC and pick 5-10 of your favorite quotes from them (without context). Optional: Tell me why you chose them!

I was tagged by @bee-barnes-author

Top 5 Damon Edric Davenport Quotes

“Cora, you have been a nightmare to tend to,” he said in a calm that chilled the blood running through my veins, “You’ve barely eaten the very fine food made for you, you’ve all but hidden away in this cabin since you’ve come here, and generally have just been a thorn in my side and a pain in my ass. After spending all day keeping this vessel afloat and spending all week dealing with your charming attitude, you will come rub my neck so that I can rest properly.” 

I love when a generally good-humored character get seethy.

He looked exhausted in the dim lamp light. I realized it was dark, and I wondered how long I’d been asleep. His hand went over mine, lowering the blade from his neck.   “You can’t kill a man like that, Cora,” he said. I was silent as he moved the point of the blade to the side of his neck, his jugular, where I saw the faint pulsing of the artery there.   “Stab here and a man will bleed out before he can cause you much violence,” he said.  He drew a line across his adam’s apple, his hand still closed over mine, pantomiming a kill.  “Cut deep here and he’ll drown in his own blood.”  I swallowed dryly as he lowered that hand between us and looked down at it.  He carefully adjusted my grip on the letter opener.   “Hold it like this, lest you want to break those slender bones in your little hand.”  His other hand smoothed over those slender bones on the backside of my hand and my fingers loosened. He drew the blade away and looked at it for a moment before setting it on his nightstand.

I mean. Hot knife time.

“Could you, for the love of all that is good in this world, button that beautiful mouth of yours shut and just fucking listen to me for once?” 

I love when there's an exasperated plea mixed with a compliment. idk about you.

“Alright, Cora darling,” he said as he walked over to a bar near the balcony and poured me a drink. “We’ll go nice and slow. All you need to do is let me move your arm and be as relaxed as you can be.”  He returned to me where I was sitting and I put my hand out for the drink.   “Oh, this is for me, Cora dear.”  I glowered at him.   “Kidding…only kidding,” he said placing the glass of amber liquid in my hand. “Drink that.” 

ALWAYS THE JOKESTER even when he shouldn't be

“I’m afraid I’m out of job titles, darling, you’ll have to come up with your own,” he told me, bringing me back to the conversation, getting my mind off my dread again.   I thought about it a bit, about the role I filled on the crew.   Cooking, clothing mending, laundering. Patching up wounds and keeping rowdy boys at bay. It was kind of like being a mother—or maybe more like an older sister.   That sounded awful though—a ships mother? It made me cringe.  “Our Lady,” Edric said, cleaving the silence.   “What?” I asked “Our Lady of the Belladonna. A proper title for a proper member of the crew. And maybe it will dull the sting of taking you away from you nobleman husband to be. Lady Cora.” 

A favorite moment of mine in the book.

Now for the tags: @michael-thepoet @amandawritesxo @liv-is @monstersandmaw

#writing community #writers on tumblr #authors #writing #my writing #writeblr #romantasy #book quotes #historical fantasy #pirate book #red skies #ocs #original character #pirate romance

[jeandejard3n]

Pirates of the Caribbean: Our Enemies Are United

#pirates of the caribbean #the curse of the black pearl #dead man's chest #at worlds end #on stranger tides #dead men tell no tales #jack sparrow #captain jack sparrow #will turner #elizabeth swann #gore verbinski #davy jones #barbossa #hector barbossa #captain barbossa #pirates #piratas do caribe #piratas del caribe #pirate's life #pirate queen #pirate war #pirate roleplay #pirate romance #pirate of the caribbean #pirate posting #pirate princess #pirate percy #pirate aesthetic #pirate art #pirate ship

[betterbooksandthings]

Running Close to the Wind by Alexandra Rowland

Running Close to the Wind by Alexandra Rowland is the definition of a good time. This cozy pirate fantasy pirate book has the energy of Our Flag Means Death and a chaos plot. The slow burn, closed door, polyamorous relationship between a surly nonbinary pirate captain, a failed spy (who succeeds anyway because he is supernaturally lucky), and a monk in the process of letting go of his vow of celibacy is my everything. This book is a series of unlikely but fortunate events thought up by a genius who knows what I want from literature. I could not recommend it enough.

When Avra Helvaçi, goes for a walk one night and accidentally steals state secrets, he knows he needs to leave his life as a spy behind and get out of dodge fast. As luck would have it, the ship he is escaping on is raided by none other than the ex who is currently very mad at him, pirate Captain Teveri az-Haffar. The captain only agrees to let Avra live because the information he has could save their financially falling ship. Luckily, the studious and handsome Brother Julian can understand the science behind Avra’s information. If you like pirate cake competitions, blasphemous embroidery, making fun of government officials, and messy queer courtship, boy do I have the book for you.

Thanks to Tor for providing an arc of Running Close to the Wind in exchange for an honest review. Running Close to the Wind by Alexandra Rowland is set to release on June 13, 2024.

#Running Close to the Wind by Alexandra Rowland #our flag means death #pirates #fantasy #cozy fantasy #pirate romance #cozy fantasy romance #closed door romance

[flowersandbigteeth]

Your demon pirate boyfriend takes you on a date

General Plot: It's a hot day in a new city, so your demon pirate boyfriend offers to take you out!

Word Count: 1.5K

Demon Pirate (Harland) x gn reader

💕 SFW MASTERPOST 💕

W: sfw pirate fluff, a stolen kiss

You stood on the deck of the Lucky Loner, Harland’s ship in a completely inappropriate and humiliating fluffy pink outfit. He had trimmed your hair into a style he liked that had a tendency to fluff up and decorated you with ribbons. 

Your face was on fire as the salty sailors whistled at you when they passed. 

“Is this really necessary?” you huffed, grabbing a handful of the obnoxious outfit and glaring at Harland. 

He smiled down at you and pinched your cheek. 

“You look like a doll,” he cooed, winking at you. 

You crossed your arms and huffed, twisting your lips, choosing to look out over the city you’d sailed into instead of your awful owner. 

You'd spent a week on the ship with him and his raucous crew and despite your demeanor you were looking forward to solid land.

“Come on, brighten up, butter cup,” he said with his easy attitude, “let me take you out on the town. We’ll have a great time!” 

You did not want to be traipsed around town dressed like a cupcake, but you really had no choice in the matter so you followed the unnecessarily large demon off of his ship and into the city. 

“You’re not going to bet me in another card game, are you?” you snapped as he held your hand and pulled you against him so that you wouldn’t be jostled in the busy crowd. 

“Of course not,” he chuckled, “I’m not as foolish as my men. I’d never bet something so precious in cards. What could I even hope to win that would be more valuable than you?”

You blushed but refused to look at him and scowled. Flattering words from a pirate should mean nothing to you.  

“You know you’re cute, even with that scowl on your lips,” he said, handing you a ladies’ fan he’d stolen off of a cart as you’d passed. 

You snatched it out of his hand with a huff and started fanning yourself. Not because his flirting was doing anything for you or you liked the fan, but because it was hot in the high collared, frilly outfit you were wearing. 

“You're glowing, are you feeling okay?” he asked. 

“I’m hot,” you pouted, aware that sweat had started to bead on your brow. 

He beamed, pleased he could do something to fill one of your needs. Harland was a sea-faring demon at heart, but the long boat ride watching you pout had made him eager to get to shore and find things to do to amuse you. 

“There’s a tea house in this city,” he said, pulling you along, “let’s get a seat in the shade and relax.” 

When you weren’t walking fast enough he scooped you up and carried you princess style, to your utter embarrassment, all the way there finally putting you down when you reached the door. 

“Greetings, valued customer!” the waiter, a very good looking fairy with violet hair, said smiling at you and glancing at Harland briefly with a bit of disgust, “are you expecting anyone else this afternoon or will it be just you, my dear? There’s a bar next door for your...bodyguard.” 

“We’ll take a table for two,” the pirate snapped, throwing his arm around you possessively, “somewhere in the shade!”  

The fairy frowned and cleared his throat. 

“Excuse me, this way,” he muttered, turning and leading you through the small interior to the real jewel, the lovely walled garden stretching out behind it. 

Delicate tables made of wires woven into lace magically by elves dotted the many alcoves and islands filling the space. Much of it was a beautiful lake with fountains that endlessly spilled upwards into the sky until they disappeared into the clouds criss-crossed with iron bridges. The gentle mist they released created lovely rainbows drifting over the water and cooled the air, while mysterious water flowers grew vertically up them as if they were columns holding up the sky.

The waiter led you to an island as far back near the far wall as he could get the two of you, out of sight of the other upstanding customers, but under the cover of some trees as Harland had requested. 

“Is this sufficient?” he murmured tightly at the pirate. 

“This’ll do. You’re a real gem, you know that?” Harland snorted, plopping down and pulling you into his lap. 

The annoyed waiter turned his attention to you. 

“What can I get for you, love? You look a bit warm. Something cool?” he asked, his lavender eyes twinkling at you. 

“Oh, um, what’s good?” you asked. 

He beamed at you. 

“I would recommend the rose tea,” he said, “it’s excellent chilled and very soothing…ideal for dealing with challenging situations.” 

You nodded at him and he flashed a smile, turning to walk away. 

“What about me?” Harland snapped. 

“I’ll give you some more time to think, sir,” he snipped and marched off. 

“Snotty bastard,” Harland grumbled under his breath as he fussed with the ends of your hair. 

He examined your pouting face as you fanned yourself absently. 

“What’s got you so down, pet?” he asked, “isn’t this place beautiful? I thought you’d love it.” 

You glanced to the side. 

“It’s not that,” you pouted. 

The lake garden was indeed beautiful. You'd never seen anything like it in your small town, still your mood was sour.

“Come on, tell me,” he coaxed. 

“There’s nothing to tell,” you muttered. 

“If you don’t tell me I’ll tie you naked to the mast until we get to the next city,” he growled, losing his patience. 

You huffed. 

“Fine!” you hissed, “if you must know, i’m just a little depressed. It might surprise you to know my life goal wasn’t to be a lap dog for a pirate! but…I’ll adjust. It’ll just take some time to let go of all of my hopes and dreams, settle into the reality that my life is utterly meaningless.” 

He frowned at you. 

“Meaningless…?” he said, “how can you say that?” 

You glared at him. 

“I read books to you,” you snapped, “the waiter could do that…anyone could do that! It’s not like you even chose me, you won me at a game of chance. I might as well be a chest of drawers or a magnifying glass.” 

Harland’s heart sank in his chest. He’d never once in his life considered anyone else or their feelings. It wasn’t a quality that a pirate needed or wanted, but for some reason he cared that you were unhappy and he wasn’t quite sure what to do about it. 

“(Y/N) you’re not a-”

“Here you are lovely,” the waiter interrupted, placing a cold glass of a pink liquid down in front of you along with a slice of cake, “and a slice of our specialty cake just for you, on me.” 

“Oh…uh, thank you,” you said, your cheeks pinkening just a little. You were usually the waiter at the tavern, you weren’t used to being looked after or treated. He turned to walk away before Harland stopped him. 

“Helloooo?” he barked, “can I order?”

The waiter took the heaviest breath you’ve ever heard.

“Of course sir, what can I get for you?” 

“Do you have booze?” 

The waiter’s head dropped to the side and he frowned. 

“Sir, this is a tea house…we do not serve alcohol,” he gritted out. 

“Fine, whatever, give me something cold,” Harland snapped back, wanting the waiter to go away so he could be alone with you again. 

You took a sip of your cold tea and the sweet smell of roses enveloped you. The waiter was right, it was soothing and you did feel a bit better after a few sips. 

“(Y/N), what I was going to say is…you’re not a-”

You waved your hand, turning your attention to the cake and taking a bite. 

“Don’t worry about it,” you sighed, cutting him off and giving him a small smile and swallowing, “I’m just in my feelings, I’ll get over it. Do you want to visit a book shop while we’re in town? We’ve read everything you have on the ship.” 

Harland glared at you, not because he was angry at you, per say, but because he was feeling things he wasn’t used to feeling. The first one, flaming jealousy, that the tea and cake the waiter had brought you had been the thing to soothe your mood and not him. The second was helplessness and the third rejection. He was just your jailor. Even after a week sharing one small cabin with him, you seemed no closer to being captivated with him like every other sweet young thing he’d ever encountered. 

He snatched the drink out of your hand and picked up the cake up ending them both, the tea hitting the ground with a splash and the cake with a splat. Your wide eyes stared up at him with confusion. 

“What the-mphhh!” your eyebrows shot up as his lips covered yours. 

They were warm and soft, his fingers holding your chin in place so you couldn’t pull away. Your cheeks sizzled and you felt sparks dance over your body as he curled his much larger one over you.

His big fingers squeezed your hips, while a hand moved around and clutched your neck. Thoughts flew from your mind. It was one of those kisses, heavy and filled with sweetness. One you’d never forget. Your hands came to his cheeks and you pulled him to you.

The waiter cleared his throat loudly. 

“Excuse me, sir,” he snapped, smacking Harland’s drink on the table, “please have some discretion. This is a high quality establishment.” 

Harland, his eyes locked on yours, reading your expression, smirked at what he saw. 

“We’ll order one of everything,” he said to the waiter, without looking at him. 

“I’m sorry sir?” the waiter asked.

Harland looked up at him and smiled, squeezing you a bit in his arms.

“You heard me, my little lover wants to try everything on the menu, bring it all at once and don’t come back until it’s done. We want some privacy...oh and they dropped their cake.” 

The waiter didn’t move, so he waved a hand at him. 

“Hurry up.” 

He finally frowned and stomped away. 

“Harland,” you asked, “what are we going to do with all that food?” 

He laughed, picking you up. 

“Wh-what are you doing?!” you squealed as he started scaling the back wall with you in one arm, easily hopping from the ledges the decorative planters made to the top and leaping over the side.

“B-but we didn't pay for any of that and we aren’t even going to be there to eat it!” you said when you were firmly back on the ground and he was marching down the street. 

“Yeah well fuck ‘em,” he chuckled, “I heard they have an elven treat in this city that keeps itself cold want to try it? We can try all the flavors if you want.” 

You just looked at him and chuckled lightly, realizing you’d committed your very first crime. 

“I mean…I guess so…” you said, an odd half-smile on your lips and he grinned, toting you off.

#pirate romance #monster romance #pirate #pirate oc #demon #demon oc #monster human #monster x human #monster fluff #fluff #pirate fluff #sfw fluff #oneshot #my fic post #my fic #monster x gender neutral reader

[orchideous-nox]

Rosekiller Pirate AU - Chapter 1

The strength I've used to not post this yesterday, I'm so proud of myself for making it to Saturday.

I'm so excited about this fic, it's going to be 4 chapters so not a big long fic because I've figured out that I quite like working in smaller chunks because I'm less likely to leave it hanging for months *cough* band au *cough*.

Please check the tag and the CW at the start of chapters when I post them because there will be some distressed content and I feel the need to stress there will be MCD. I know, I'm sorry.

This is a prequel to my Wolfstar Pirate AU and I suggest reading that first for the best experience but it can be read in either other and you don't have to read both if you don't want to!

#marauders #hp marauders #marauders fanfiction #marauders era #dead gay wizards from the 70s #rosekiller #pirate barty crouch jr #barty crouch jr #barty crouch junior #evan rosier #evan x barty #pirate marauders #pirate fic #pirate au #pirates #pirate barty #pirate lily evans #pirate remus lupin #pirate romance #remus lupin #james potter #peter pettigrew #lily evans #marauders fic #fic rec #fanfiction #fanfic #ao3 link

[unstablewifiaccess]

Hello! I have updated the Chapter 1 preview for Kiss of Death on my blog! Please read and give feedback if you have time, it'll mean the world to me. :)

Click Here to be magically transported to the kingdom of Sefria

Jane's life had always been planned out for her. She would marry some rich man off on the mainland and never see her home again. That was, as soon as her father found a suitable husband for her. A plan that had been solidified as soon as her mother disappeared. But something always happens to ruin plans, and Jane finds herself on a pirate ship with a grimoire she knows nothing about. After all, magic wasn't supposed to exist anyway. Stuck there with men who want her dead, a book of magic she now has to protect, and a pirate captain who may be more than a friend, Jane begins a journey of magic, love, and adventure that was never supposed to happen.

#writeblr #kiss of death #writing #writing community #wip #kod #mine #pirate romance #fantasy wip #wip intro