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Pen Your Pride

Chapter one - tongue tied and oh-so-squeamish

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Chapter one - tongue tied and oh-so-squeamish

lmaO i actually wrote this. a pirate au. with gerard as the corrupted asshole of a pirate, and frank as the scared ass teenager he kidnaps.

just a real quick note, u can guess that i get a ton of comments and may i just ask that you don't leave comments like 'same', 'lol' or 'me af' because I get at least six duplicates of these from different people every day and it's really getting old. also please don't post lyrics because i get too many comments that are literally just lyrics.

enjoy, my darling pretzels.

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"He who makes a beast of himself gets rid of the pain of being a man."

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I was eighteen when he took me. Only eighteen years old.

People would ask me, years later, if I ever missed my old life, but I could never answer. I had been engaged to Lady Emily, my father had been hopeful that I would be granted a place in the King's navy, and my education had only just finished. My old life hadn't even begun before it was over.

I remember the night it happened. Vividly. It was the night I came alive. The stars were bright, and the evening air was crisp and cool. His silhouette was clear against the backdrop of the glowing town. Clearer still as he climbed up my balcony. I watched in a strange mix of morbid fascination and consuming terror as he stepped closer to my window.

His heavy coat seemed to do nothing to weigh down his strong form, and the charcoal under his eyes and sword on his belt added further to the vicious persona the man carried. The word was on my tongue from the moment I saw him. Clinging to the inside of my mouth, too scared to come out.

Pirate.

It was like a curse word. Everyone feared the pirates. The town had tried to push down their mass fear and pretend that each attack hadn't happened, but there was no hiding it. It was a plague on our village.

My stomach was twisting and my breath was catching as he slowly turned the latch of my door. I clutched at my sheets and stared, frozen, as the door pushed open with ease. His walk was cocky, far too confident, and he crossed the room to my bed with a dirty smile on his face and his fingers brushing the pistol tucked into his belt. "Hey, sleeping beauty," he drawled. He paused, glancing me over, then nodded down at me expectantly.

I blinked in confusion. Since everyone was so secretive about the pirate attacks and kidnappings, I wasn't quite sure what the protocol was.

The man raised the gun and cocked it. "Get up, darlin'."

Oh.

Shaking, I pulled myself up. The man hummed appreciatively, his stringy black hair falling over his eyes as he glanced down to slip his gun back into its holster. "Good boy," he said, in an almost coquettish tone. I flinched. He was a man. What on earth was he doing? "Now," he said darkly. "You're going to follow me, and you're not going to run away or make a sound, or you'll end up where that little Lucy Cooper did. Got it?"

Lucy Cooper was the poor young girl found dead in the town square just weeks ago, face down with two bullet holes in the back of her head. We all knew who had done it. We all pretended it hadn't happened. I didn't want to be another case swept under the rug, so I nodded.

The man opened my drawer and grabbed a handful of whatever valuables he could find. With the gold safe in his hands, he started walking briskly down the hall, in the opposite direction of the balcony, and I followed like a little sheep, confused but in no state to question his plans. We reached the landing, and the man pulled out his gun with a sly smirk, then shot the chandelier clean off its hanging. It shattered to the floor with the shriek of breaking glass, and the remaining dim candlelight shot our reflections in all directions across the room in the fractured crystal. The pirate laughed and grabbed my wrist, tugging me with him as he climbed up onto the banister, and- to my horror- leaped down to the floor. It all seemed to happen in slow motion. I screamed. A hand clamped over my mouth. There was a crash, a splitting pain in my ankle, and arms wrapping tightly around me in a second.

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