pirates of the carribean x reader

tell men no dead tales.

      You were born a proper English woman, with a perfectly good name. People liked your family and all of those who bear it. The men in your family have served under the king's royal hand for generations. Leaving the woman of the house to take care of the finances and upkeep of the old manor. What they don't know is the insults of the bankers against your mother. The claim is that a woman could never run a house alone without some help. These insults stole away your mother's happiness whenever she heard them. You hated it. You hated the bankers, you hated the upper echelons that spoke down about your mother. One of them was a commodore. Commodore James Norrigton. You have imagined his death in your mind a thousand times over. After an especially brutal meeting with the banks, you had even mapped a way into the castle. Because of this hatred, people started to look down upon you. They saw you as the dirt on their shoes. Soon enough the unending stress and insults had gotten to your mother. You had tried your best to keep her alive and happy. You even brought (stole) her fresh fruit, but nothing worked. She died on a Sunday in the middle of October. In her last moments, she gave you an old brass compass and told you to "follow the needle, it will point you in the right direction." 

       You knew about this compass from your father. Whenever he came by he would show you the compass. It has an engraving on the top it reads, 'Sail the seas

Plunder and pillage for gold

Do all that a pirate has been told.

Lose the sails. To the skies gold.

Then you'll see your dreams unfold.' 

       You constantly asked your father what it meant, his answer was always the same shrug. He told you about his adventures on the nigh unpredictable waves. From meeting the famed ship of death 'The Flying Dutchmen' to a fight with Jack Sparrow's Black Pearl' even though your father wasn't the best storyteller, it still had you at the edge of your little red chair. You could see it all happening, from the explosions of the cannonballs to the scrambling of the men above deck. After the first three years of the stories, you had to have started to dream of the sea. It became a prevalent part of your required writings in school. Your stories had begun to be about pirates, sea monsters, and old-time whalers. Your father noticed this trend very quickly and had stopped telling you stories. You had been distraught, you pleaded with your father to tell more stories of the sea. 

He refused. 

      That had been the start of the breaking of the family. Over time, it had only gotten worse. From the avoidance of each other to the complete and total distrust of each other. Soon, he started to act like you weren't even there. Your mother saw this and tried to mend the broken relationship but there was nothing to say. He gave up. You tried for the sake of your mother, but it didn't go very far. Now that you look back on it, it was probably another reason that your mother might have given up too.

      Soon after she passed away, your father came back. You told him what had happened, how, and when. He didn't look at you with remorse or pity. Even though you would've denied it. He didn't even look at you. All he managed to say was

 "Get out of my sight." 

      So you did. You ran home, grabbed a bag, and stuffed three days' worth of clothing in it. Along with twenty pieces of hardtack, a bottle of concentrated orange powder, a homemade dagger, and the compass your mother gave you. You took off the dress you were wearing and changed into men's clothing. You went into your closet and pulled out a gunmetal corset that would both protect you and hide your breasts. You slipped into it and secured to fastenings in the back. You look over to your dress and tore a piece off of it and tied It around your waist. In remembrance. You took off within the hour, your adventure has just begun.