THEME ©


Yoho me hearties! Welcome to me blog about anything piratical - from fictional pirates, to real ones and anything in between.

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Lindsey Stirling does Assassin’s Creed III

Yes looked again and sorted it out. So much fun!

:D

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Yay! She’s still here!

:D She doesn’t give up that easily.

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Ok read 27 first…. So is she alive or something else?

Ah you should have read twenty six first. It’s all there on my blog in case you missed it. And yes, she’s woke up :)

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Read the previous chapter here

Or start from the beginning here

All was still. The Jolly Roger sat heavy and listless in the shallow waters off the edge of that grey place. Life had gone from that seaborne home the moment the princess had first set foot on the ashen shore. Her body returned, but nothing was the same.

All was still in the tomb of the captain’s cabin. Still as a silent sentinel, Hook sat. He waited. He was not going to let go. Not this time. Not while that little red glow was still throbbing in time to the beat of here and now. It was faint but days had passed, nights too, and it was still alight. The darkness had not taken it.

It was if she wouldn’t let go.

You couldn’t stay awake forever, no matter how far your mind roamed. Neverending circles of grief and guilt and tormented should have, could have, did not.

The darkness took him. Blessed in its silence.

Read More

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There’s 2 chapters of my fanfic coming up today, 26 and 27. You’ll see why when you read them :)

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Read the previous chapter here

Or start from the beginning here

Sleep. The black, unforgiving void between alive and gone. The cursed princess lay deep in that blackness, her skin pale as bone, her sockets ash. The beautiful pall of her face was framed by her autumn hair; once burning, now dry and changed. The gold could not glitter behind fallen lids.

Death sat by her side, waiting. Falling sand. Grain by grain, hour by hour. Waiting.

Tiger Lily had done all she could, but not enough. Her potions healed the flesh, but blood could not be replaced.

Life pulsed dimly in a jar beside the bed. Like the ticking of a clock, the sap counted down, fading slowly, hour by hour.

The beautiful face was a horror, so still and unmoving as it was. It didn’t belong. It was made to smile, to laugh, to glitter, to shine. To look upon it made him sick. But he could not look away. Not while she was here; a constant reminder of the sins of which he was guilty.

Abhorrent.

Her red, red lips had turned so pale. So silent. The urge to kiss them could not overcome the revulsion that was the possibility of a last memory. Cold lips on his soul. No. No, they should have been burning. So full of life. They pulsed now, in the memory of that first kiss beneath his fingertips. Withdrawing his only hand from his mouth, he stared down at the nothing in his palm. Her blood was still on him.

Life pulsed dimly in the jar beside the bed.

Read the next chapter here

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(Source: pansynancy, via piratesparrow)

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Hook planned that date…. Well how boring was that? If I was writing Hook I’d have him take his date out doing something reflective of his character… Have a good time like a pirate… Pickpocketing, sword fighting or some shit. Something thrilling or dangerous, even. But then I wouldn’t write Hook with Emma.. Ever…

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