Pirate Drawing Novels & Stories

The enemy consisted of sixteen fighters and four frigates, which was a bit more than their escort’s number. But then again, they had the benefit of the cruiser’s turrets to help, even if it didn’t have a full complement of cannons. A rather scruffy pirate came on their comms, and immediately started to make demands. “Drop your cargo, or be blasted into dust!” he said. “Hmm, let me think about that,” replied the Dartmouth’s captain.

Maybe her work would give me inspiration, the only thing coming into my head from me to draw was a broken heart. “It's a surprise.” I scoffed. “Typically, surprises take a long time to prepare, but yours took only a few minutes.” “Ouch…” She feigned hurt, and she turned the canvas to me. Rose also turned to see it. We both burst into laughter. Is this what she drew? What the fuck? She called this a surprise? I laughed so hard that my tummy started hurting. “What's funny guys?” Marinette asked in an upset tone. Of course it's funny, she drew an apple, and she painted it red, not just an apple, the ‘Apple’ brand logo.

He stopped about two feet away, hovering, his eyes wide as he stared at the drawing. "It needs a flag, doesn't it?" I asked, keeping my voice low and conversational, as if we had been talking for hours. "Maybe a pirate flag. Or a spaceship launcher." Noah blinked. He looked at the tin of pencils, then up at me. I picked up a deep blue colored pencil and held it out to him, eraser-end first. "You want to add the spaceship?"

The left and right side of the art piece has two horrifying voids of darkness fighting over this blank spot. The informant moves his fingers. “The deed first.” The king of pirates gives a smirk and places it down on the bar with a hand on it. Vado’s crew watches and a lot of them stand at the attention. The redhead pulls out her pistol and then slams it on the deed. “Me, my crew did all the work. I need some…insurance.” The redhead captain speaks in a deep tone while eyeing the other captain up and down. Vados thinks to himself for a moment but soon enough he leers his eyes over to a crew member. A woman that has multiple tattoos, his own deckhand. She has the same ink as Gardax as do most d

He handed the piece of driftwood to the human. The mapmaker looked at the wood. He looked at Elias’s glowing wrist. Then, with his unbroken right hand, the human commander took the stick. He didn't draw ships. He drew the grid. He drew a massive, sprawling network of intersecting lines, stretching endlessly across the sand. Inside the grid, he drew the symbol that had been stamped on the silver coin. And then, slowly, methodically, he began to draw tallies. One line. Ten lines. A hundred lines.

Reasonable honestly. Then suddenly it became the most important object in the world. God. The morning had started peacefully. Peanut was taking a nap. The ocean sparkled outside. Everything felt calm. Fair. Too calm. Reasonable. The kind of calm that usually comes before disaster. God. Meanwhile Lily was playing pirate. Fair. A dangerous hobby. Reasonable honestly. Because pirate games involved running. Jumping. Climbing. God. And absolutely no concern for furniture. Fair. Mr. Buttons had apparently become First Mate Buttons.

Sometimes he could almost feel the change and had a moment to think Self, what we are about to do is really dumb. Not today. Today he was driven by pure instinct as bad went to ridiculously worse. A bunch of Hares appeared from inside the ship. Judging from their vests and sashes and - were those actually swords? - the pirates had arrived. A few of them also had pistols. Liam's eyes lit up as his brain flipped the aforementioned switch into handsome and brave mode.

She was somewhere around seven or eight, completely absorbed in whatever she was drawing, her tongue pressed to the corner of her mouth in concentration. I lowered myself carefully into a chair near her, mindful of my ribs, and looked at the paper. The drawing was full. Not in a crowded way, in a deliberate way, like she had a clear picture in her head and was working her way across the page with intention. There was a dragon in the top left, red and blocky with impressive teeth. Below it, a woman in a red cape with a pointed hat on a flying broom, carefully coloured with a orange crayon. To the right of that, something with fangs and a dark cape that I was fairly certain was meant to be a v

Waves crash against the rocks, sending white foam into the air. Standing in front of the cave are three pirates, properly there to load of illegal supplies. On the left stood a tall, lean pirate with a long, dark coat and a wide-brimmed hat. His posture is alert, slightly turned toward the sea, as if watching for an approaching ship. His expression is serious and calculating, and his clothing is worn but practical, suggesting experience. He is wearing a sleeveless worn shirt that exposes his dirty, marked arms and chest. His pants are simple rugged, tucked into practical boots. A strap crosses his torso, likely for carrying weapons. In his left hand his holding an axe, swung over his shoulde

When he held up the notepad, it read: “Can we go to the beach?” Killian and I leaned in closer, our eyes fixed on the notepad as Ryker held it up. Beneath his simple request of *Can we go to the beach?*, he had sketched something in his careful, childlike strokes. The drawing showed three figures: one adult male, one adult female, and a small child between them, holding their hands. The sun shone brightly in the background, and the waves were drawn in soft, blue lines. For a moment, we both stared at the image, trying to decipher its meaning. Killian’s brow furrowed as he glanced from the notepad back to Ryker.