#. arc viii ⤍ post d3 . › a knife that never stops .
things had been quiet, too quiet. he could feel the all too familiar tension settle between his shoulders, the restless unease of things becoming too comfortable, too pleasant. there were no conflicts, the other pirating crews were surprisingly content, the neighboring gangs and factions busy tending to their own affairs, too wrapped in their own dealings to care enough to intrude on theirs. even auradon was suspiciously docile during court talks and for them peace may have meant rest and relaxation, but for someone like harry, it might as well have been a death sentence for how fucking boring it was.
❝ let's rob snow whites treasury, ❞ harry said as way of greeting to his younger sister. he was itching to do something, and he only had so many vices to call on. he was so bored that hitting something would do nothing for him, fucking would only last as long as he did and then that boredom would return with vengeance. he could kill something, but he doubted uma would be happy about it. so that left steal. he'd stolen from everyone on the isle at least once already but he'd only stolen from a handful of people in auradon and snow, well, he didn't like her.
❝ right now, you and me, whatever we can carry, ❞ // @dolhood , devil sibling shenanigans .
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it was a strange thing, to see the son of hook so uncomfortable. harry rarely exposed himself so clearly and so publically and yet her whole crew had seen it. seen the way that he had lingered on the docks, busying himself with unloading supplies while flicking uncertain glances at the ship that he had once cut and carved by hand. he had wondered absently how much of it was from the original build, he hadn't had a hand in it's repairs after the invasion.
it took an afternoon of procrastination before harry finally made his way aboard and even harriet's first mate chose not to engage him in their usual verbal sparring as it appeared to her as if harry would take the first opportunity to escape whatever he had been psyching himself up for.
finally, he was facing her. leaning his shoulder against the doorframe of her quarters, arms folded across his chest. he had ditched his usual layers of reds and blacks, dressed in a casual poet's shirt and a pair of jeans. his hook was nowhere in sight. ❝ i have something to say, ❞ // continued from our discord thread but like idk a few weeks after .
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the pirate scratched his cheek absently with his thumb, looking particularly out of place in corinne's fine furnishings, lazing across her large plush bedding with only the faintest sparing of thought to keep his boots off the covers by letting his ankles hang over the side.
❝ i'm . . . giving her space, ❞ harry admitted carefully, brows furrowing. he tried to pass the confession off casually but there was an edge of uncertainty to the usually bold scoundrel. he eyed corinne for half a breath, two, then added, ❝ henry's looking after her, ❞ // @rosewiltd inspired by our chat today ig
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❝ you never talk about them, ❞ harry said as he thumbed the small mound of scar tissue that marred allie's otherwise smooth skin. it wasn't the first time that harry had caressed the scars or paid especially close attention to them, but it was the first time that harry decided to acknowledge them verbally. he glanced back at allie's face, burrowed into the pillow under her, sunlight streaming through the open window and brightening her hair to shades of honey and gold.
❝ tell me about it, ❞ he said, as always he seemed to claw through the concept of asking permission. harry pressed his palm flat against her back, dragging his hand over her skin and the scars that were the only proof that allie had ever had wings to begin with. ❝ tell me what happened to them, ❞ // @loetise ♡'d for a starter .
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the dragon had moved up in the world, harry observed silently as he circled the office. bookshelves filled with tomes wider and thicker than his head, a desk splayed with pages, envelopes, half read letters, ink fall pens and golden tins. the window behind her ran from the floor to the ceiling and looked out over the castle grounds. royal advisor was certainly more than a step up from being her mothers little helper.
harry whistled his appreciation for mal's new station in life, his grin shark-like as ever as he ran the curved edge of his hook along the spines of the books that lined her shelves. ❝ nice digs, mal, ❞ he said mockingly, ❝ bet it comes with a bell boy and everything, ❞ // @paintedragcn ♡’d for a starter .
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he didn't need to say it, harry knew he understood but that understanding didn't make the confession any lighter. it sat between them, heavy as lead and containing all the knowledge of captain james hook that they had between them. hook was a nightmare, a monster, his rage had been the sea. wild and unpredictable, furious and terrifying and when it struck, nothing came away unscathed. every scar, every lingering injury the man had ever afforded him seemed to itch with those memories. arms thrown over his head to protect himself from his boots, being dragged across the deck by his hook, of a fist striking out of nowhere for no reason other than he had just been there.
he feared his father. adored his father. hated his father. he saw other fathers like jack, like will, like smee, like countless others and asked himself why his own couldn't have been like them. it was a useless question. he knew why, had always known why.
harry read the unspoken apology in henry's answer and scoffed, dry amusement cracking the uncomfortable disappointment and unforgiveable vulnerability oozing out of him. henry spoke in the way that he always did, cutting to the core with quick precision and forcing him to think. or perhaps think wasn't entirely correct, henry was forcing him to feel. to confront the twisting, coiling, dangerous things inside of his own gut and give them names. would it help? ❝ i think it'd make me happier, ❞ harry said. there was another unsettling knowing there as henry looked at him, neither of them were particularly good at letting anything sit still when something could be done with it.
henry raised his arm and harry watched, blue gaze taking in the familiar patchwork of scar tissue and blemishes. henry didn't have to explain any further. harry had the same kind of callouses on his own hands and knuckles, growths were broken bones had come back stronger, tougher, harder. tension that he hadn't realized was sitting between his shoulders lifted and harry sighed, expression softening, a humorless laugh slipping past his lips. ❝ let it sit, aye? ❞ harry spared a glance at his arm. he couldn't see the scar beneath henry's hand but he knew it was there. he turned his arm over, sliding it back so he could take henry's hand in his own. callouses to callouses. ❝ guess we'll find out, ❞ // @lighthouseborn continued from here .
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this was what harry was good at, this was what he understood. the intricate delicacies of healing was something best left to those like lani, people with patience and kindness who could lead henry back to shore like the gentle, continuous glow of a lighthouse. but hunting, killing, avenging, these were things that harry had honed into an art. it had been a mistake to think that henry had needed anything less or anything more than for him to be unapologetically himself.
henry laughed, and harry grinned. a wolfish baring of teeth as he leaned forward, applying more pressure to his grip on henry's chest as he done so. ❝ no more thinking, ❞ harry ordered, though it wasn't needed. he could practically see the turning cogs in henry's head come to a standstill.
henry shifted, and harry let him. he didn't let him go, didn't relax his grip, if anything he held on a little tighter and the wolfish grin on his lips turned wide with excitement and determination as henry echoed back his sentiment. finally he pulled his hand back from henry's chest and instead grabbed henry's face in both hands.
❝ that's more like it, ❞ harry said and he shot forward and slammed a kiss to henry's forehead before shoving him away. ❝ we'll do it together. ❞ // @lighthouseborn continued from here .
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tag dump.
. arc i ⤍ pre d1 . › by the skin of our teeth .
. arc ii ⤍ d1 . › let there be violence .
. arc iii ⤍ post d1 . › here there be monsters .
. arc iv ⤍ d2 . › heart of the nonbeliever .
. arc v ⤍ post d2 . › burning in the baptism by fire .
. arc vi ⤍ d3 . › feeding the wolf its meal of hate .
. arc vii ⤍ post d3 . › through the heat of the sun .
. arc viii ⤍ post d3 . › a knife that never stops .
. 「 au 」 here to tear your kingdom down ── descendants au .
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tag dump.
. arc i ⤍ pre d1 . › by the skin of our teeth .
. arc ii ⤍ d1 . › let there be violence .
. arc iii ⤍ post d1 . › here there be monsters .
. arc iv ⤍ d2 . › heart of the nonbeliever .
. arc v ⤍ post d2 . › burning in the baptism by fire .
. arc vi ⤍ d3 . › feeding the wolf its meal of hate .
. arc vii ⤍ post d3 . › through the heat of the sun .
. arc viii ⤍ post d3 . › a knife that never stops .
. 「 au 」 here to tear your kingdom down ── descendants au .
0 notes