Have You Ever Wondered Why Your Life Is Incomplete? Perhaps Its Lacking A Certain Something. Some Spice.

Have you ever wondered why your life is incomplete? Perhaps it’s lacking a certain something. Some spice. Some pizzazz. A bunch of bloody pirates. 

Welcome aboard thiievesandbeggars. Join me as I continue down the rabbit hole of caring more about this damn franchise than Disney ever will. Coming at you hot with a collection of Jack Sparrow’s family and boyfriends. 

Featuring such beloved and very much relevant characters such as Bartholomew, Christophe de Rapier, and Uncle Jack. 

From the mun who brought you the Caribbeans most beloved angry dad. You simply won’t want to miss this very low activity, selective, mess of a sideblog.

🪐 — BONNIBEL BUBBLEGUM​   for  marceline !

she gasps in horror  ────── quickly turning herself away, shielding the vampire from the potential dangers bubbling within the flasks.    ❝  no, oh my glob ― you can’t just drink it   ― you’d bloat up as jumbo jollywall! it needs a conduit!  ❞    fuchsia colored eyes scan her lab table for a suitable test subject, quickly plucking a small giggling creature from the corner of her table. she offers the candy-critter a friendly boop! smiling as she elicits a small and jovial giggle from its candy crusted surface and plopping it into the flask. 

glass lifts to eye level, an intense stare watching as the thick red gloop bubbles and the flask begins to shake. she gasps in excitement as a small scarlet leg kicks free from the glass, then an arm as the liquid begins to fade and the soft supple skin of a now swollen piece of candy press flush against the glass  ― cracking at the tension ‘til the vibrant red creature breaks free and sits plump and expecting within the soft of bonnibel’s palm. she giggles, poking into it’s supple shape, grinning as crimson flesh comes bouncing back,      ❝  hehe!, isn’t he cute? ❞

    BONNIE CALLS IT SCIENCE, but it really doesn’t look all that different from magic to marceline when the pink princess tosses a little candy-guy into the bottle she’s prepared. there’s a flash  &  a poof,  &  then the tiny creature bursts free, suddenly all puffed up  &  vivid scarlet. ❝ uh, yeah. he kinda is, ❞ marceline admits, her feet hovering a few inches off the spotless candy lab floor as she drifts over to bonnibel’s side. his little face is a bit flat, but his tiny red hands flail as if in excitement when bonnie holds him out to her.  &  marceline plucks him from bonnie’s hand between two fingers, holding him up closer to her face. she squints, pinching her fingers together experimentally,  &  he gives a squeaky giggle as his spun-sugar body squishes beneath her grip, wordless but giving no indication that she’s hurting him.                       ❝ peebs, i kinda hate to ask, but what makes this little guy different from all the rest of your candy people ?  like, why can i drink the red out of him, but not them ?  isn’t he technically sentient, too ? ❞  marceline knows even as she says it that she really shouldn’t question bonnie’s methods. especially not now, when the rumble for red is rolling ever more aggressively in her stomach  &  the little candy creature’s flushed face is so appetizing it’s making her fangs grow longer  &  sharper behind her lips.  ❝ i mean, if you say it’s ok, i trust you.  but like, why shouldn’t this little guy get the chance to live his best little red life ? ❞  &  marceline shakes him with frustration, earning another high-pitched giggle. the moral quandary is wearing her patience thin, wide black eyes staring down at the candy guy with a ravenous hunger in their depths. it really would have been so much easier if bonnibel had just found her some lipsticks or something to eat  —  something that didn’t have a face, at least.

🪐 — LOU NELSON​  for  rae !

      ‘  RAGE IS A QUIET THING,   oh you think that you’ve tamed it.   but it’s just lying in wait.   ’

     RAE IS MORE FAMILIAR  with sorrow than rage, but she has to admit that the sharp burn of anger is not entirely a stranger to her.  &  she can hear that same emotion in lou’s music sometimes, bleeding into the more aggressive songs on the rotted dolls’ debut album.  ❝ at least you know you’ve got a good way to get it out. if you can channel it when you’re on stage, i’ll bet it makes for a really kick-ass show. ❞

🪐 — INBOX CLEANUP.   @thecodekeeper​​  sent  a meme  :  hc + curse (calypso)

 ●  you  &  i have actually joked about this, ace, but i legitimately do stand by the headcanon that  calypso didn’t intentionally abandon jones  on that one day ashore when she was supposed to meet him.  let’s all remember that calypso is at least 3500 years old,  &  time simply hits different when you’re ageless !  to an immortal goddess, ten years really isn’t all that long,  &  the honest truth is that she just kinda... missed the date when she was supposed to meet him.  she was just off splashing around somewhere.  it was a genuine whoops moment.  &  i could do an entire separate meta post about my ideas on calypso’s relationship with jones, but it’s also important to remember that to her, mortal love is inherently fleeting. i don’t want to say that jones felt more intensely than she did, but he definitely took their love more seriously than her. she didn’t intend to hurt jones, but she also kinda figured that if she did, he would just... eventually get over it. she certainly didn’t expect him to go to the brethren court  &  curse her over it. ●  after being bound in her body, calypso moves to the shack in swamps of cuba because while as an ocean nymph, she needs to be in close proximity to saltwater to live, it also makes her too sad to be able to see or hear the ever-changing tides when she cannot change her own form with them. the saltwater from the sea that filters into the swamp is enough to keep her alive, without making her any more depressed than she already is. ●  calypso does have some subdued powers even when bound in her human body, such as premonitions  &  inexplicable intuition. she is also clearly capable of necromancy as seen with barbossa, as well as some very slight weather control,  &  communication with animals. she also learns hatian voodoo practices to supplement her own powers. it surprises her that human magic is real, too,  &  that it can even be used in combination with her goddess magic. ●  calypso does have some degree of premonition / intuition, which is particularly strong when it relates to her own powers. she is far less able to predict anything surrounding the magic that is used to bind her. for example, she knew upon her very first time seeing will that he would be the one to become the dutchman’s captain, because it was her power that had created the dutchman in the first place  ( this is what she meant by ‘a touch of destiny’ ).  however, she had no idea that it would ultimately be ragetti who broke the curse. honestly, she thought it would be barbossa after she resurrected him  &  all, or maybe even witty jack, who was actually one of her lovers. ●  the scene with calypso  &  jones when he comes to find her in the brig is the first  &  only time they speak after she gave him the dutchman  &  sent him on his mission. yes, including all the long decades she was cursed. in that scene, she tells him that when she is free, they will be together, always. this is a straight up lie, or at the very least, what she means by it is that he will be hers always because she is planning to fucking drown him in her storm lmao. she tells him that the last thing brethren court will learn in their lives is how cruel she can be. but literally the moment jones falls into the malestrom she’s created  &  dies, calypso’s storm calms  &  she departs the battle.  for these reasons, i think calypso never blamed the brethren court for her curse, only jones,  &  it’s him alone that she wants vengeance on. but she doesn’t want to tell him that to his face  —  she doesn’t want him to see her revenge coming.  &  it does seem to me like jones believes her, even going so far as to say that the malestrom won’t hurt the dutchman, which indicates that he believes calypso to be on his side, which she is actively not. ● bonus silly headcanon : it felt literally so good when she finally got to grow all giant before bursting out of her mortal bones take the form of a few hundred crabs  ( which has always been her preferred physical form ).  it was like, if you had a misaligned vertebrae for literally 80+ years  &  you’d been stretching it but you just couldn’t make it release the tension  &  then after decades of this you finally got to go to the chiropractor  &  they just popped your whole damn spine back into place  &  you suddenly realized you’d kinda forgotten what it felt like to stand up straight without back pain ?  it was just like that for her.  but even better, because then she got to go start a malestrom  &  drown her ex.  &  that’s some # girlboss behavior.

🪐 — EDWARD TEACH  for  izzy !

edward can’t stop looking at him,   at the black lines he traced with his own hands just a few moments earlier.  the urge to press his fingers to the inked spot almost overwhelms him,  entranced as he is,  mind going numb with the knowledge of how permanent this is:  izzy can never get rid of it,  can’t take it off like one would a ring or a piece of fabric.  edward will always be there,  pressed to his skin,  etched deep into it where he can’t be rooted out from,  just like that ink.  it’s enough to make his head spin,  without a single drop of alcohol having touched his lips yet.  he can’t think of anyone else who would be willing to offer themselves so readily to him,  not like izzy just has,  body still and mouth emptied of complaints,  wholly trusting of the man above him.

❛  hm,  let me see.  ❜   he pretends to be deep in thought,  catching izzy’s chin between his fingers to turn the inked side of his face towards him.  a grin of his own mounts on his lips like the swelling of a wave as it nears the shore,  the slow drag of it not making a show of his teeth just yet.   ❛  like the most fearsome pirate i’ve ever seen.  ❜   despite the grin and the laugh that soon follows it,  edward’s voice bears the earnestness of truth  —  and fondness too,  threading just beneath it.  izzy had become an unsuspecting ally in the face of the bleakest adversity first and a friend later,  and now edward can’t even imagine a time when he would turn to his right without finding izzy there,  solid and unflinching beside him. a force to be reckoned with.

❛  wanna do mine sometime?  ❜   he lays down the offer with a shrug,  like it’s not a big deal,  but there are not many people he would trust to go near him with a needle of that size,  not without second thought.  just one,  in fact.  he settles down on the floor,  in the end,  back pressed against the bed and both legs stretched out in front of him,  lest his knee gives him shit for it.  which he would probably deserve,  for discarding a perfectly reasonable surface like he just did.

      THE WAY EDWARD IS LOOKING AT HIM,  his dark eyes gleaming with pride, a smile spreading gradually across his face  —  it makes all worth it.  &  izzy knows in that moment that he would do anything to have his captain’s attention like this, would face any danger or endure any pain without a single word of complaint if edward would only be pleased with him for it.  &  with his chin held tight in those strong fingers he adores so, izzy is entirely pliant, basking in the glow of his approval, tilting his head wherever his captain wants it without even the barest degree of resistance. the pain in his cheek is gone somehow, though he’s only had a single swallow of liquor. it’s like edward himself is some kind of drug, izzy’s head going cloudy  &  his skin flushing every time he is graced with his touch.                     ❝ pretty sure that’s meant to be you, boss, ❞  he says, chuckling softly, eyes cast to the side to keep that smile in his line of sight.  &  it’s true  —  they both know it. no one fears izzy on his own, no matter how good he’d become with a blade. he needed edward, could never embody the myth they had begun to build without him. no, izzy was content to be blackbeard’s first mate, the only one who was trusted to carry out his will.  &  he would gladly soil his hands with the blood of their enemies as many times as was required if it meant that edward might stay safe, if his hands could remain clean. izzy knew where he belonged, what he had to be : blackbeard’s hands, but never his face.          he has to stifle a complaint when the hand is taken away from his face again  &  ed slides away to sit on the floor instead  —  though internally, izzy chides himself for his weakness. he should know by now that the gentleness will not stay, any moments of softness exchanged between them always fleeting  &  nestled carefully between the roughness that they were both far more used to, should not be expected to linger.  &  izzy lifts the bottle to his lips again, taking another long swallow. yet he doesn’t have much time to lament the loss, edward’s offer piquing his interest immediately.  ❝ of course i do, ❞  he says without hesitation, his head dropping back against the wall with a low thud.  &  he can’t tell if it’s the alcohol or the adrenaline that’s made him brave, but he allows a leather-clad leg to fall over the edge of the bunk, his calf resting tentatively against edward’s shoulder. it’s not skin-on-skin, but it’s better than nothing, the subtle point of contact keeping him grounded.  ❝ i’ve actually got quite a steady hand, you know. bet i could make them look real nice. ❞  &  he can’t deny how the thought of edward laid out beneath him, just as he himself had been just a second ago, letting izzy press ink underneath his skin, makes his head spin, dizzy at the very idea. perhaps edward would even let him return the same mark he had just given izzy. perhaps it could be a symbol that tied them together, rather than simply marking izzy as his. but he should not let himself hope for such a thing, leaning forward to pass the now half-empty bottle back to his captain.  ❝ what would you want me to give you ? ❞ 

🪐 — EDWARD TEACH   for  stede !

❛  ’s yours.  ❜   head drops against the sturdy wood to his back as he speaks,  tongue loosened up and mind rendered to a heap of half coherent jumble.  with the whole of his attention snagged by the sight of stede’s grin growing deeper,  this is even worse than the night edward asked to run him through.  foolish thoughts and the thundering of his heart plaguing him with no mercy.  well,  only the gentleman pirate can say to have made a fool out of blackbeard himself,  doing nothing more than simply dropping into his life with his linens and lavender soup and that lovely grin of his that scrunches up his nose sometimes.   ❛  aren’t ya supposed to be a gentleman,  though?  or have i already made a scoundrel out of you,  stede bonnet?  ❜   it’s edward’s turn to flash him a grin,  a valiant attempt at appearing unbothered on his part.  or at least,  a little less like someone that desperately wants to kiss the bloke in front of him silly.  just a little would suffice,  truly.

    IT’S SUDDENLY UNCLEAR  to him if they’re still dueling, given that edward’s not even struggling to free himself from stede’s pin.  &  his smile grows suspicious, eyes narrowing slightly as he takes in the unbelievably gentle look that edward graces him with. perhaps this is all a test, some kind of lesson to never let your guard down, even when you think you’ve gotten your enemy beaten.  &  he lifts his blade just a degree, anticipating some trick to come. even now, he had to believe that edward could slip out of his hold if stede drops his focus even for an instant, quick  &  graceful as he ever was. but he only smiles, still  &  relaxed, as if content to have lost.   ❝ one can be obey all the rules of good etiquette  &  still be a fearsome foeman, i should think, ❞  stede replies.  &  his arm does not budge from edward’s chest, reveling for another moment in his win. whether temporary or not, stede intended to enjoy the moment of triumph. one day, perhaps he could tell his children he had conquered the fearsome blackbeard in hand to hand combat.  ❝ &  the rules of battle dictate that to the victor go the spoils.  so it would seem to me that your life’s now mine to do with as i please. ❞