#and fish gets it they went to great pains to change also

[termagax]

tldr "what does his face look like" that is his face. dont be rude.

[uglypastels]

Not Wholly Evil |X| pirate!Eddie au

a/n here it is. the final chapter. I am so excited to share it with you all, just as much as it pains me that it actually is coming to an end. I've worked on this story for almost a year, and it had been a risk I had no idea how it would play out, but seeing how much everyone has enjoyed this story and supported me in my little experiment really made all the days I say in front of my computer screaming worth it <3 thank you all so so much for trusting the process

Series Masterlist

word count: 14.3k

"semi dark fic" - READ the warnings:. (gun/sword)violence. blood. mention of severe wounds. minor character death. allusions to suicide. kidnapping. imprisonment. alcohol. open and deep sea. near-death experiences. hanging. men are pigs: implied mentions of past abusive experiences [of background characters]. malnourishment and weight loss. paranoia. mention of poisoning. abuse. manhandling. lying. prison. capital punishment.

there will be several mentions of other ST characters in this chapter, and some instances might not be the most favourable of portrayals, but this is not to indicate my opinion on them. I am simply intertwining universes. there is also a name spelled differently than in the shows and that's just for the sake of the setting.

Chapter 10: Lock and Key

“Some pirates achieved immortality by great deeds of cruelty or derring-do. Some achieved immortality by amassing great wealth. But the captain had long ago decided that he would, on the whole, prefer to achieve immortality by not dying.” ― Terry Pratchett, The Color of Magic

Everything went into chaos, happening so quickly that you genuinely got the sensation of being frozen in time and space, just letting everything around you go by, unable to intervene. Your mind could not work at that speed to understand everything that was happening, too far down into a shock to catch up. But when you finally did, you screamed. 

‘No, father, no.’ You tried to push yourself away from him, but his grip was too firm. Even if you had, the chances of getting past the barricade of armed bodies to Eddie was impossible. ‘You can’t do that!’ you trashed around in his arms like a wild fish out of water. 

All your father did was pull you closer, further away from Eddie, who you could just make out from between the uniforms and bayonets. The glimpses you got of his face showed a stoic expression. He wasn’t even trying to fight it. The last thing you saw before you were turned around and practically handed over to someone was the chains on his wrists. 

‘Take her away from here,’ your father told his closest guard, ‘she’s hysteric.’ And perhaps you were, as you kept screaming at them to let go of you. The pleas quieted down the further from the harbour you got, changing into silent sobs by the time you reached the gardens of your home.

‘It’s alright, miss,’ the guard tried to calm you as best as possible. ‘You’re safe now.’ 

The pearly white building towered over you as you entered its shadows, and as soon as you did, you saw almost the entirety of the house staff standing in the main hall, awaiting you. Their faces blurred with their welcoming greetings and sweet words of comfort. A woman took you from the guard, immediately guiding you up the stairs, mumbling something to him and shouting about to the rest of the people around. You could not place any name to her face, and having always been quite good with remembering people, you could only assume she had been a new addition to the staff since you had last been home. Looking over everyone around you, most of them must have been. 

That’s right. Your father had always been keen on replacing the staff but usually had been around to witness it, take in the new batch from the beginning, and, most importantly, say goodbye to the old ones.

You wanted to protest at every corner you turned up to your room, but the group of maids that had accumulated around you was like a forcefield, unbreakable. One of them opened the large double doors that led to your room. There was barely any time for you to sink in the feeling of being back in it after so many weeks as you were pushed through another pair of doors. There, a bath had already been prepared, the water steaming hot. You let yourself be dragged to the centre of the room and mechanically put your arms up for the ladies to take your dress off. Had they always been this rough? 

They mumbled about the state of your dress to one another as if you weren’t even there, and in their defence, you weren’t. Your mind was miles away, barely aware of what was going on. The only thing that pulled you back into the room was the gasp of the women as your dress fell to the floor. You looked down at where all their eyes had locked in on. 

‘Did they do this to you, miss?’ One of them asked, pointing in fear at the scar on your ribs. It had gotten much smaller over the weeks, but compared to the rest of you, you could imagine how grotesque it might look to people like them. 

‘Uhm, no,’ you mumbled, ‘I tripped. On our ship.’ You barely recognised your voice as you spoke, too tired to put any emotion into them. The women looked at each other hesitantly before continuing on with their tasks. 

 You just about felt the hot water burn as they got you into the bath or poured it over your head to wash your hair. The scrub of the cloths over your limbs did practically nothing. All you could do was stare out ahead of you at the hawk engraved into the wood panelling on the wall across from you and how you had always seen it as a sign of comfort but now noticed how angry its eye looked. Staring directly at you at all times. You lulled your head slowly, trying to get it to look away, but it just followed you around until someone grabbed you by the side to stop you from twisting. 

‘Sorry, miss. Just trying to get out this knot.’ One of them said as she combed out your hair, tugging your entire head back against the edge of the bath. 

You had not even realised how much grime came with being on a boat full of pirates for weeks. Even though you had tried to wash yourself regularly, there was never enough fresh water. By the time the ladies were done, the water had gone cold, and your whole body was red and sore from the scrubbing.  You could barely feel your fingertips, but your nails were perfect again. 

Trembling, you got out of the bath and quickly were wrapped up in linen to soak up the water. Like any other day, they began to put your undergarments on, preparing you for a dress that you could not even think about the weight of, but no matter how many layers they put on you, you were still shivering.

Someone, you had no idea who, pulled a blanket over your shoulders and put a large cup of lemon tea into your hands. It used to be your favourite, but the sips tasted bitter no matter how much sugar you poured. You stood in the middle of the room, holding the cup and felt all their eyes on you, drinking your tea with a shaky hand. No matter how you held it or steadied your arms, the porcelain clinked together louder and louder until it smashed onto the ground, the hot liquid pooling around you. Before you could apologise, someone was on their knees cleaning it up. 

‘I am so sorry,’ you cried out, tears already threatening to return despite it being only a few minutes since they had dried up. With water pouring over your face and hair in the bath, the tears would have been washed away, but now there was nowhere to hide them.

‘No worries, miss,’ one of the maids said. She looked you up and down, a corset in her hands, clearly seeing a mess of a woman in front of her. ‘We should get you ready; there is a meal waiting downstairs and I am sure you’re famished.’

‘I am alright, I just want to—’ you wanted to disappear. Get out of everyone’s sight. You wanted to lock yourself in your room or run away, just be anywhere but here, surrounded by these strangers. You wanted Eddie. Where was he now? He must have been dragged into the dungeons. 

You pushed back the next load of tears that were breaking through.

‘Miss, we must insist.’ The maid said, somewhat concerned, and hesitated. ‘The food will do you good.’ And yet, the idea of eating now made you feel quite ill to the stomach.

‘I would really just like to be alone now.’ If you had more energy, your statement might have come out more pointed, giving you more edge over the staff. You would have fought them until you’d slam the door behind the last one, but instead, you let yourself be trapped into a dress—a beautiful green garment that the women were not shy to praise as they put it on you—and sent you off to the dining room.

Once, you would have walked these halls alone,  with your head held high and letting the steps of your heels announce your presence in any room, but now the clicking against the marble floors made you wince and the presence of the maids and guards following you certainly did not help to put your mind at rest. 

The dining table was set, filled from one end to the other with dishes, but you could barely stomach a spoonful. The same happened at dinner. You could not think of eating these extensive meals knowing that Eddie was kept locked up somewhere, most likely not given anything to eat since he had been arrested. Your mind was whirring with ideas, but each and everyone was immediately halted when you saw that there was nowhere in the house you could go without onlookers. The chances of you being allowed into the dungeons and speaking to him were close to zero. 

Having eaten exactly two bites from your plate, you excused yourself back to your room, where people were ready to get you out of your dress and into your nightgown. Once done, one of the maids was prepared to blow all the candles out, but you quickly stopped her. 

‘Wait,’ you called, ‘could you leave one on, please.’ 

The woman nodded and left one of the candles in the holder burning before leaving the room. You sat down on the edge of the bed, trying to catch your breath, but the room felt so stuffy—a ridiculous thought considering the room was bigger than Eddie’s quarters, possibly the double of it. The candle only gave light to its nearest surroundings, letting the rest of the space, and you with it, be eaten up by the night. It was overwhelming, together with the hot air swallowing you whole. As your chest tightened, you ran to the window, pushing it open. You greeted the cool night air with a sigh. 

Nights at home were never quiet, but unlike in Saint Claire, it was not drunken brawls that kept the shores alive but the rustle of waves and the chirping cicadas. The streets buzzed with the sounds of nature, illuminated in silver by the moon, now an almost complete sphere. 

You had always loved the view of your room, but now it felt more like a cruel joke as you could look out at the harbour and the gates of Star Port. It was like a million pinpricks stabbing into you. The Hellfire was nowhere to be seen. You didn’t expect anything less. With Eddie arrested, it would have been mad of the crew to stay behind, risking their own capture. 

Still, the feeling you got at the sight of the empty harbour sank deep into your stomach, not helping with how you had felt before opening the blinds, and when you closed them again, the room seemed to have grown in size. Large, cold, empty, with you standing in the middle staring at your bed. Sitting on it, let alone sleeping, was impossible. The second you touched the mattress, you were scared you’d sink straight through the cotton, and the sheer size of it…

You lay there for hours, deciding whether to curl up and make yourself as small as possible or to spread your arms out in a poor attempt at taking up some of the space meant only for you. Every time you moved, your hand would grab for the sheets, hoping that one of those times, you would feel more than air. If you opened your eyes, you would see him sleeping peacefully by your side. 

Most of your pillows had met the ground as you threw them in frustration.  You had spent years in this bed, perfectly fine, and only several days with Eddie. So, why were you feeling this profound loss over his absence besides you? It wasn’t fair. 

Eventually, you managed to fall to sleep, quite literally, as pure exhaustion tipped you over and made your head finally hit down. There were no dreams, nightmares or memories to haunt you, as you were awoken before any of them could take shape. Firm knocks on the door announced your maids, and they filled the room in their designated corners. 

‘Good morning, miss.’ They said chirpily as they got you dressed and ready for another day. All you replied with throughout the entire process was a mumbled ‘’morning,’ which you hoped could be blamed for having only been awake for a few minutes.

‘Breakfast will be served soon,’ you heard. The mention of food again twisted at your guts, but an idea began to bloom in your mind.

‘Will my father be there?’ He seldom dined with you, leaving you to eat your meals in the company of the staff, but you assumed he would want to see you after all these weeks.

‘I assume so,’ the woman brushing your hair said. You nodded curtly, as much as possible, when someone held on to your head. The prospect of speaking to your father face to face brought a new energy into your step. 

You walked out of that room determined and with your head held high, only to be disturbed by footsteps parallel to yours. Two pairs. At first, you thought it was a coincidence, and they just happened to be walking there, too, but they followed you down the hallway, around all the corners. By the time you reached the dining room doors, you had grown tired of it.

‘I am quite capable of walking on my own, thank you,’ you said, coming to an abrupt stop, making the two men behind you  ‘have done it all my life, in fact.’

‘Yes, of course, miss,’ said one of the guards who you bumped into at your sudden halt. ‘It is just—’

‘Just what?’ You crossed your arms.

‘Well, your father—’ he stopped speaking at the sight of your unimpressed, somewhat annoyed expression. He cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable with the confrontation. ‘We are here to protect you.’

‘From what exactly?’ This was ridiculous. Absolutely ridiculous.

‘From any danger, miss.’

‘I was not aware this house was so full of threats.’ You rolled your eyes. ‘I appreciate the efforts, gentlemen, but I doubt you will be needed.’

‘But your father, miss.’ The other man tried to argue, but you were not having any of it.

‘I will not be patrolled in my own home!’ You shouted, pushing the doors to the dining room open. Your father sat at the opposite end of the large table, fork mid-air to his mouth. ‘Father, this is absurd.’

‘I think it is perfectly reasonable to want to protect my daughter. What is absurd,’ much to your annoyance, he spoke in his usual collected and cool-toned manner. He waited to continue speaking until you sat at the table. ‘Is you being held hostage for weeks at the hands of some barbarians.’

‘They are not barbarians, Father,’ you ignored the hands that spooned food onto your plate. ‘They took rather good care of me, actually.’ You bit your cheek, trying not to think of the days you spent in a cage. But even considering that, you were aware of your fortune with the circumstances you had been put under. Many more people had encountered enemies at sea, and few had been able to return home and live to tell the tale… or the preferred version of events, at least. 

‘Is that why you look so sick and frail?’ he spoke bluntly, taking you back. ‘Because of how well they treated you?’

‘They did their best with what they had,’ you believed. It was your choice to starve yourself for the first days on board, refusing to eat anything they gave you. And you could hardly expect a feast such as you held in front of you now, every day in the middle of the deep waters. Even on board the Red Tail, the meals had been somewhat shoddy. ‘I just do not think that…’ you stopped yourself from using his name. ‘That man deserves to be in prison.’

‘Of course not.’ Your father took a bite. ‘He will be hanged for his crimes.’

‘W-what?’ Your fork clattered onto the ground. ‘Father, you cannot— I know he had tried to take money from you but—’ Murder and high treason. That is what he was arrested for. Had your father somehow found out about the Red Tail? But how could he… there were no survivors. 

No survivors. He killed them all. He had— 

‘Do you know who that man is?’ Something in your father’s voice sounded sharper, more pointed. 

‘I thought so,’ you hesitated. Yes, you had spent your days and most tender moments with him, but what did you know about Eddie Munson?

‘Then you should understand the severity of this situation.’ Only if you were to believe hearsay and talk of the people on the streets that shaped this image of a blood-thirsty monster that roamed the seven seas, killing everything in his path. It is what you believed him to be yourself until not very long ago until practically every fibre in your body had been proven wrong.

Or at least, God, you hoped you had been wrong.

Your father sighed, ‘I know it is difficult, after all you must have spent a lot of time with them on that ship, and I do not know what lies they had fed you, but these are serious matters that begun long before any of this and need to finally be taken care of.’

‘Well, explain it to me because I would like to know what is happening.’ 

At this, he scoffed. ‘All you need to know is that man is a dangerous criminal and should be treated as such.’ But then, what about everything Eddie had told you? What about all the pieces you had managed to gather of the crumbs he and everyone else left you? There was more to it all, and maybe you did not understand yet, but you would.

‘When?’ you plucked at your food on the plate, defeated, ‘when is the hanging?’

‘In four days.’ If you had been well enough to eat, you would have choked. You had barely come to terms with returning home, if at all, and now this. Prisoners were usually held for weeks before a date was set for an execution. They were clearly adamant about taking care of him quickly. 

For the sake of everyone else, you ate a bit of your breakfast, each bite sticking uncomfortably heavy in your throat.  After that, you got up without saying another word. The two guards who had walked in with you were on high alert again, ready to follow you, but stopped to look nervously at the governor when you glared at them. 

‘Let her go,’ he waved them off, ‘but keep an eye on her.’

You huffed out a breath and walked away. 

The rest of the day you spent walking around the town, mainly the alley of the market that led to one of the entrances to the dungeons. You had no idea why you were there, considering there was nothing you could do. Besides the fact you could clearly see the new set of guards appointed to follow you around the streets, they seemed utterly futile, considering all eyes in the street were on you. Every person there was highly aware of your presence. 

You used to walk around the market nearly daily, making polite chats with the salesmen as you bought fresh fruit to later eat at the shore or in the garden. Most people knew that you had decided to join the Red Tail on their voyage primarily because of your enthusiasm to finally leave the island and go on an adventure.

It must have taken quite some time, they would say in some form or another, to convince your father.

I can be quite persuasive when I have to be; you remember how proud you had felt. After months of begging everyone around you to let you go, promising them that you would be safe and careful and not get in the way of anyone, finally, they let you go. Under Admiral Carver’s watch, you spent weeks enjoying the breeze and the waves, awaiting what the rest of the world would bring.

The ship sailed for four weeks to another naval post. You did not know their exact business, nor did you care, as you now had a whole new land to explore. The city was larger and nothing like home. The people looked different and spoke an entirely different language, but you still managed to get around and on the market behind your house. It had been excellent and eye-opening, only making you more eager to see what else to discover. But unfortunately, there was only so little time, and before you knew it, you had to return home. You remember the last day. It had been raining, but it did not stop anyone from loading the new supplies. Somehow it seemed like much more needed to be brought on board for this half of the journey than the first. 

What’s in those barrels, you asked, but no one ever replied. They barely ever did. It wasn’t your place to ask questions in these matters. You were simply a passenger on the ship, verging on stowaway, spending your days in the quiet of your own room for the most part until…

It was the middle of the day, and the sun burned above you brightly, yet you shivered. You had always known to trust your father’s judgement and his decisions, but there was no possible way in which this was right. That this was how it would end.

The alleyway practically screamed at you for you to go and run in and get him out of there, but with so many people watching, it would be hopeless. The guards would get you before you had even reached the stairs. You would have to wait.

‘It’s good to see you again, miss.’ A voice pulled you out of your thoughts. It took you a few slow blinks to realise who it was.

‘Oh, you too, Mr Bowman.’ you smiled towards the merchant as he smiled at you through his bushy beard. He was sitting next to his table of… you were not sure what to call them. The man was quite the eccentric, and you had barely ever seen him actually make a sale on any of his products, but you doubted he was there for business anyway. ‘Have I missed much in the past months?’ You could always count on him for good stories about the townsfolk. The man had all his senses on sharp, constantly vigilant of everything around him. 

‘I think your return is the biggest news we’ve had in a while.’ He scratched his beard, ‘That, and well, the upcoming execution, of course.’

‘People already know?’ You blinked, not having expected that to be public knowledge yet. Then again, it is an event like no other. Preparations have to be made.

‘Edward the Banished gets arrested, and you expect people not to know?’ He laughed almost mockingly as he usually did, but you looked at him blankly.

‘The Banished?’ you had heard much about Eddie, but this name was new to your ears. 

‘Yes, ridiculous name, if you ask me,’ he waved it off, ‘Pure sensationalism as it rolls smoother on the tongue than deserter or runagate, quisling, traitor—’

‘I understand,’ you stopped him nervously. ‘But how did he get this name? What did he do?’

‘HA!’ he startled you with volume. ‘What didn’t he do, you should ask.’ This caused many of the other merchants around you to weigh in on the subject. 

‘I heard he abducted the governor’s daughter.’

‘That’s her. She’s right here.’

‘Oh. Well, he had attempted to assassinate the king of England!’

‘The Prince, you blockhead. And he did kill him!’

‘He has burned entire islands down. All over a game of cards.’

‘Stole an entire fleet and handed it over to the Spanish, just like that.’

‘He drinks the blood of his enemies!’

‘Sold his soul to the devil!’

Everyone looked at the old man that shouted this out. You were afraid to ask more questions, so let the others do this for you. ‘What do you mean, he sold his soul?’ 

‘He did! Did all those things to offer himself to Satan and do his dirty deeds here on earth. He is cursed to sail the seas in his wicked ship with the unrighteous crew for all eternity.’

‘Well, that eternity won’t last much longer.’ Someone commented, resulting in a chuckle around the street. Most of the people laughed, but you stayed quiet, your mind going back to Eddie, his body covered in unexplainable scars. The wind suddenly grew stronger.

‘I’m telling you,’ the man continued, ‘we won’t get rid of him yet! Not until Hell freezes over!’

‘Someone give the man a hat; he’s had too much sun,’ Mr Bowman called, rich coming from him, whose balding head was burning bright red. He then turned to you, shrugging as the rest had clearly proven his point. ‘And that is why I do not mess around with pirates, deary, no matter how charming they may seem.’

‘Excuse me?’ were the first words coming out of your mouth in the last few minutes, and you quickly regretted having them form into another question. 

‘I saw you two yesterday at the arrest.’ Of course, he had. Nothing around here ever escaped this man. He looked proud of himself for having witnessed the events. ‘It was quite dramatic, seeing lovers have to be broken apart like that.’

‘I think you might have had too much sun today,’ you tried to sound casual as you laughed it off. 

‘I am not here to judge,’ he said, putting his hands up in surrender, ‘simply to advise.’ 

‘Thank you, Mr Bowman.’ You smiled politely, ready to escape the conversation. You had been used to him often throwing around false and farfetched accusations, and even listening to this conversation, you knew it was nothing if not complete nonsense, just gossip gone too far along the years. So now that he had actually been correct, it stunned you, even maybe scared you. What would the people around you think if they knew what happened between you and Eddie? How would they react if they knew how you felt about his death sentence? You would be deemed mad. 

Of course, the not-so-inconspicuous guards followed you back to your room, where you stayed for the rest of the day until it was time for dinner. Your father did not join you this time. As hunger finally struck you, fighting nausea caused by the stress of the last few days, you ate everything served to you. 

On the ship, you had thought that once you came back, you wouldn't be able to stop eating all the things you had been missing for months, but nothing tasted as good as you remembered. In fact, nothing was as good as you remembered. The food was bland, the flowers not as vibrant, and the people not as joyous. Once, you had heard laughter and chatter, but it seemed like the streets grew cold and silent, leaving you alone to your thoughts. 

After your meal, you walked out of the room but turned left instead of taking the right towards your room. People immediately caught on. 

‘Miss? Where are you going?’ A guard called out.

‘Oh,’ you attempted to sound like you had not expected this exact conversation when you moved, ‘just thought of going on a stroll. The night air does me rather well.’ You grinned in a way you hoped would come off naive. 

‘I do not think that’s a good idea.’ The guard said. ‘I would suggest that you return to your room,’ he spoke in a tone telling you that it was not a suggestion at all. Not in the slightest.

‘Am I on house arrest?’

‘See it more as a curfew.’ 

You scoffed at the idea, or more that you had very little choice but to obey. There was a moment in which you stared up at the guard, switching between expressions to get him to crack and let you go, but to your disappointment, he cocked his head toward your room. 

How were you ever supposed to get to Eddie if they constantly watched you? The question kept you up another whole night and the next day. Just for the sake of it, since they so desperately needed to be with you at all times, you decided to sit in the library for about four hours with no book in sight, just staring out the window, letting them stare at you. At a certain point, you had caught one man actually yawning.

‘I am absolutely certain that there are at least fifty things that would be more  productive for you to do then this,’ you broke the deafening, maddening silence, still looking out the window. You had counted all the leaves on the tree branch that kept hitting the pane in the breeze and had recollected every corridor and door in the house. In the reflection of the glass, you could see the guards glance nervously at each other, and with a smile, you turned to face them. ‘You can just go. I won’t tell anyone.’ But they stood their ground. With a groan, you sank back down into the chair. 

It would take much longer for them to break, so much more time that you—that  Eddie—did not possess. Three days left before the execution. Three days left for you to take the chance and do something. Save him. There were a million ideas, one worse after the other, with so many risks and problems that it could eventually end in your own hanging. 

You shut your door at the end of the day, and it must have sounded through the entire house. Another day gone, and you had gotten nowhere. You could see the shadows of their feet come through the gap underneath your door, and they would be there the next morning when you awoke. Sleep deprived from tossing and turning as long as the sun was down. The bed still felt too big for comfort. At one point, they had run into the room at the sound of muffled screams, just for you to pull your head out of your pillow to yell at them to get out. 

You walked towards the dining room for breakfast, this time wearing a rose gold dress, surprised not to be followed by a parade of footsteps but halted at the sound of voices coming from inside the hall. 

‘I think it is safe to say that she does not require any supervision, sir.’ one of the guards said. You never bothered to learn their names, too frustrated to care, but you learned to recognise their voices from the amount of squabbling you had done. 

‘Is that so?’ your father munched away. 

‘She does nothing but mope around all day, quite harmless, I’d say… uhh, sir.’ The other added. 

Mope? You did not mope, if only because they sucked your life out with their constant “supervision”. As much as you wanted to burst into the room, you composed yourself and listened on. 

‘Does she seem well, in the head, I mean?’ Your father asked, but they did not reply. Not verbally, at least; you could imagine them looking at each other in the way they did, and just the idea made you clench your fists until they turned pale.

‘She’s stubborn, a bit immature, a bit aggressive.’ One of them chose his words carefully and slowly.

‘So that’s a no, I take it,’ your father concluded. You took this as your opportunity to announce yourself with a few loud steps, moving back a few paces to repeat them with exaggeration. 

‘Good evening, father,’ you said as you took your seat, not giving him or the other man any more of your attention. The guards glanced at you nervously before leaving the room.

‘Terrorised the guards, I see?’ he asked.

‘No more than they did me,’ you replied in the same emotionless tone as you ate.

‘I just wanted what’s best for you. It had been a tumultuous time, and you had gone through quite– ’

‘Is that a reason to… to lock me up and have me followed around like some kind of—’ You were at a loss for words, so instead, opted for a frustrated groan and stuffing your face with a forkful of lamb. 

‘Well, you’ve proved me wrong. Clearly, you can still care for yourself.’ he wiped his mouth with a napkin and stood up. ‘I’ll make them let you be from now on,’ and with that, he walked away. You couldn’t suppress the smile that rose to your lips once the doors closed behind him, immediately knowing the first place you were heading to with your newfound “freedom”. 

The kitchen. 

Well, that is not exactly the first thing. You had to wait for all the dishes to be cleared from the dining room, so you wandered around the corridors and then headed down the stairs as quietly as possible to not raise any attention to yourself. 

As suspected, the kitchen was empty. Most of the food on the plates still untouched. Quietly, you grabbed a basket and began picking things out here and there, those that would go unnoticed by anyone walking in to grab a midnight snack. The only thing that might have caught someone’s attention by going missing was one of the larger bottles of rum stacked on a shelf. 

You placed a napkin over the basket's content and grabbed one of the staff member’s hoods to cover yourself up with before heading outside. It would help against the cold night air and hopefully make you a bit less noticeable, as the grey hood did not stand out as much as your extravagant dress. As you took the first steps out into the garden, the idea came to you that maybe that was another idea of them trying to keep you inside these walls. After all, while you had always had nice clothing, it did not compare to the dresses you’ve worn since your return. It could be seen as a welcome home gift, but it was undeniable that the dress you wore now could be spotted from miles away.

You pulled the cloak tighter over yourself.

Besides a few men who were too drunk to notice or care who you were, the streets were also empty. The men standing at the prison doors were half asleep, and either way, you were not too anxious about them as they were usually more preoccupied with keeping people in than out. You slipped through the shadows into the alley and only dared to breathe once inside. The steps leading further into the building were uneven, especially in the dark. The only light was half-burned-up torches lining the path. A crinkly small corridor that eventually led to a crooked staircase. You could barely keep yourself up straight, almost tripping over your feet. Reaching the bottom of the stairs, where the dungeon's entrance stood, took almost longer than the walk to the building across town as you held onto the cold wall, doing your best not to fall.

Now, you could only pray that the final door was not locked. The handle wiggled and creaked open. 

You hesitated. What would await you inside? This whole trek had been based on your intuition that he would be put in one of the isolated cells, away from the petty criminals. But what if they kept him somewhere else? What if they had done something to him and… well, there was only one way to find out.

As you stepped into the caved-out room and almost instantaneously, never before had you felt such a cold fall over you. Maybe it was due to the thick walls absorbing all sound or how the slit-like windows below the ceiling only let through the tiniest slivers of moonlight, obstructing any of the day’s heat from entering the room. Or maybe it was the sight of him in the pale torchlight that chilled you to the bone. 

He was seated on the ground, framed by a cell jagged from rock and steel bars. The moonlight managed to just about frame his face, exhausted and fragile. His eyes were closed in pretend sleep. You could tell that much as his brows furrowed at the sound of your footsteps. You tried to call out to him, but your throat was stuck. But you didn’t need to say anything. He called your name in a weak voice, in a hesitant manner, as if he was making sure that what he saw was real. If you were really there. 

‘What are you doing here?’ he asked in disbelief.

What were you doing here?  You had been asking yourself this the entire walk up to the cells, trying to find a reason why it meant so much to you to see him again, to help him, and yet you still could not come up with anything. There was no response besides holding up the basket with a weak smile and saying, ‘I thought you would like some dinner.’ 

Eddie sat straight, pulling himself up by one of the cell bars. As you walked up to his cell and sat down on the ground beside him, you could feel his eyes on you. Pure disbelief at your presence, the food. You held the meat out to him, but he did not move. 

‘It is not poisoned,’ you smiled sheepishly, ‘if that is what you’re wondering.’ Even when you handed him the food to eat. He did so slowly, apprehensively at first, still unable to look away from you. Perfectly understandable. You had barely gotten used to this. How the beading and frame of the dress poked at you from every angle. Your feet hurt, and your hair had been pulled into an intricate hairstyle, causing you to walk around with a headache for hours. Not that it was anything to compare to Eddie’s circumstances. He sat in his cell, too small to stretch his body out in, with no bed, just the cold hard ground. They had removed his jacket and belt, leaving him to sit out the cold of the night in just his shirt. You also noticed a new bruise forming on his jaw, which certainly had not been there when you last saw him. All this to break him down, yet the way he looked at you—you could have sworn you were still lying together in his bed, far away from all this. 

He glanced down at your dress, how it pooled around you, almost leaking through the cell barriers up to him in all its opulence. ‘How the tables have turners, haven’t they, princess,’ he chuckled, and you had never thought to be so happy from hearing such a simple sound. The nickname felt deliberately chosen at this time, too. You pulled at the edges of your dress, collecting it closer to you.

‘I know, I look ridiculous.’ 

‘I think the word you’re looking for is beautiful,’ he said between bites, but you ignored the compliment, knowing that if you let it get to you, it would come together with a shower of tears. As he kept on eating his food, you sighed, letting your side hit the wall as you leaned up to him. You handed him more of the food that you had brought him and the rum, then let him finish in silence. His mere presence beside you already was more than enough. The sound of his deep calm breaths was enough to put you to rest, and it pleased you that the sea had not left him just yet. He still smelled of it. That fresh sea salt air was simply stuck in his hair. You refrained from combing your fingers through it.

This was already so far from what you had expected things to go like. You had thought that once you came home, even with his request for a hefty payment, he would still be welcomed as a hero. That you could make things work and somehow, maybe, naively, be together. Even now, you thought that if he saw you here, you would have some kind of moment of clarity where everything became crystal clear and easy to understand. That you would know exactly what to do, and it would be glorious. You thought he would be happy to see you. Never had you imagined him asking you again, ‘What are you doing here? Really.’

‘I wanted to see you,’ you said, but he could read past all your layers. ‘And… over the past few days, I have heard things. About you. Things that I can hardly believe to be true and yet are seen as such by the majority of people, so I hoped you could clear some things up for me.’

‘You don’t believe your own people but would believe me?’ He took a swig of the rum, already handing it back to you, but you declined, giving it back.

‘I have given you my trust more times than I should have, and so far, it has not led me down any dark paths, but I can only hope that you will not break that bond now.’ After all that you had been through? Was he in any position to do so? ‘So I hope you will tell me what really happened. I—I remember you, years ago, meeting with my father and Carver. You were in the military, right?’

Eddie let his head roll back, hitting the wall behind him with a shallow thud. ‘You remember me?’ 

‘It came to me during the storm. A memory of you walking with them in the garden. For the longest time, I could not make sense if it had been real or if my mind playing tricks on me, but I realised now what it was.  You looked different, but it was you, wasn’t it? You were like them?’ 

‘Turns out, maybe I still am, and more than you’d think,’  he sighed, ‘or less, depending on how you look at it.’ He took another sip of the drink. 

‘Will you tell me, please?’ You pleaded, eagerly awaiting the answers to what you had been trying to figure out long before you had returned home. Eddie looked apprehensive. 

‘What good will it do?’ He turned his head in your direction, still leaning against the wall. You moved over to be closer to him, your legs almost touching. 

‘Perhaps nothing, but—’ you sighed, ‘All my life, I’ve been protected. I’ve had everything handed to me without any trouble. I had spend most of my years never further away than these shores and always under someone’s watch. I had never had the space to make risks or mistakes. There was no such thing as danger. Even now, I had been under constant watch. No one will answer my questions or even listen to me because they want to protect me. Because they think I’m fragile and cannot handle it.’ 

At this, Eddie scoffed. ‘If anything, they cannot handle you, darling.’ 

‘Meanwhile, you,’ you smiled, ignoring the heat burning over your cheeks, ‘Well, perhaps not all your methods were ideal, but you never treated me like I was made of glass. You pushed me, and it actually, for once, made me feel alive and like I am worth being in the room with.’

Eddie reached for your hand. ‘You’re worth so much more than that,’ he mumbled against your knuckled as he kissed them. He held on to you as he began talking slowly, choosing his words wisely. ‘I had joined the navy younger than anyone should have—my parents couldn’t afford me, so I had to make myself useful quickly, and that felt at least somewhat commendable, no matter how it would end. 

‘Started right at the bottom, but I wanted to prove myself. I followed orders, did everything what was asked of me, and more, and I moved through the ranks. As I gained more of a position, I got more of an insight into the men I was working for and with.’ 

As he spoke, you watched his eyes pale, haze over with memories. The dam he had built around them had broken up, flooding out, and he could not stop it anymore.  He wanted to continue, but he hesitated, glancing your way, but you encouraged him to go on with a nod of the head. Even then, he scratched at his face nervously and took a deep breath. 

‘We would find ourselves everywhere around the world, and a certain power comes with wearing a uniform. It is universal, one that everyone understands and is willing to abuse. It was easy to see yourself as better than the poor locals, to excuse yourself from the import taxes and all the bureaucracy around the travel. I had done it myself, flashing a grin with the mindset of superiority.’ He hid his face in his hands, groaning. You reached out for his arm. 

‘Hey, it’s okay,’ you hushed, but was it really?

‘When you get that taste of power when it hits right, it is hard to let go. It had never sat well with me; every time I got away from a port without paying for my ship, I stayed up entire nights as the guilt ate away from me, but it had been what everyone else was doing, and you don’t want to fall behind. It had become a pressure to boast your power over those who did not have any. 

‘And this power…. it turned darker as simple actions of business turned to abuse. Swindling merchants of their products, conning drunks with games, and stealing their money. Taking advantage of… everyone. It had become a sport to them.

‘I was aware of it, but it had somehow never seemed that serious—it happened so gradually—until one day I saw one of the commanders with this girl…’ his breath hitched. You squeezed his hand to remind him that you were there, that you were listening. ‘She was just a child, and when I saw what he—I lost control of myself, lashed out at him. It had been stupid trying to argue with someone that outranked me. There was no one I could tell that would do anything about it, not when they were all just as bad.

‘Then Carver came up to me one day. Said that together we could make a change.’ Eddie’s jaw clenched. ‘I should have known better. He had always been too close with the rest of them, but we planned on making a change.

‘But on the day we were about to tell your father about everything that happened on our voyages—the day we saw each other in the garden, in fact,’ he squeezed your hand back. ‘We never got the chance because I was sent away.’ Something in you caught your breath, making him smile lightly. 

‘There had been talk of a war, and so I was sent out with a fleet to take charge. Carver had promised me he would take care of everything in my absence, but—’

‘He didn’t,’ you finished the sentence for him.

‘In a way, he did. Of course, it was all a hoax. He had needed an excuse to get rid of me. It took me three months to get back, having found no signs of possible ambushes, and when I did, I returned to the news that Hargrove, the commander I had attacked, had been found dead that same evening I left. And there was the missing gold and the rumours of a coup, among other things. Somehow, he had convinced everyone I had gone above and beyond in betraying our country, but the murder charges hit the heaviest. They thought I had killed one of our own.

‘The only people on my side had been those on the ship with me, and they had given up all they had by giving me their trust. They were marked as traitors just for standing up against the accusations. I  already had lost everything I had to lose and could not stand by it, so I left. I took my ship and my crew, and we sailed off. 

Bowman’s words rang through your mind as Eddie said this. Deserter. Runagate. Quisling. Traitor. You still wanted to ask him so much, but you let him speak before interrupting. 

‘The sea was a liberation. We were free to do whatever we wanted, so we did, but I always felt like I was tied back to this place. Like…’ he laughed, ‘like a rope was hanging around my neck, dragging me back here. At first, I thought it was guilt, so I did my best to reprimand everything they had done. I wanted to do something for all those men and women we had hurt, give them some form of protection against those uniforms. 

‘But no matter what I did, who I helped, that feeling did not stop. In a way, it grew worse. I got angry and felt like the only thing that would help me was revenge; I stayed up most nights thinking of unimaginable things. I got lost in the darkness of it. If it wasn’t for Harrington, I don’t know what would have become of me.’

‘Harrington?’ You could see how that would happen, but the mention of him somehow startled you. It's another piece of the story that made it feel so real.

‘He had been in a similar position as me. His commanding officer had been asking him to do all these dirty jobs until he had had enough. It had only been a couple of days since he had given up his post when we met one night at a tavern. He wouldn't have joined us if it had not been for a game of cards. Neither would have Robin.’

You had no idea how long you had sat there, just enough for your body to grow cold and stiff on the ground, but you could not care less about any of that, too focused on his story. As he mentioned Steve and Robin, his smile reached his eyes for the first time since you had arrived, revitalising you, knowing that there was still something in his life that left fond memories behind. You leaned forward, resting your chin on your hand as you listened on. 

‘Either way, I had fallen into a deep, dark pit, and Steve pulled me out. He showed me what I was doing did no good for anyone but them. It was eating me alive, killing me from the inside.’

‘But you still killed them all.’ The words left your mouth sooner than you could think them through. Knowing his reason behind it all made you understand, but it did not lessen the impact of the deed. 

Hearing you say that, Eddie quickly turned his entire body to you, pulling himself as close to you as possible, almost pushing himself through the bars. His eyes were full of an intensity that burned through your soul.

‘I am not trying to make excuses. I did what I did—I led my crew towards the Red Tail and let them sink that ship, but not for myself. That is what Harrington made me realise. I did not need to see them die, but they needed to pay for everything they had done. For ruining all those people’s lives. You must understand that?’ 

He didn’t need to see them die. Moments flashed before you of your very first seconds on the Hellfire. Of Eddie walking up to you, the words he spoke in front of you. 

– Carver? Where is that pesky little bilge rat? 

– Bled out on the ship. 

– Shame. Would have like to have seen that. ‘You weren’t even there.’ you whispered.

‘It wasn’t about me.’ He shook his head. ‘Besides, if I had been the one to kill them, it would have only satisfied them. To see me become what they had told the world I already was. All I wanted was for them to be gone. Just gone. 

‘None of this,’ his eyes darted over your face. ‘Was meant to happen to you. My men were simply looking for the things in the office that had already been stolen. But then they saw you under that table, they couldn’t leave you. You were innocent.’ His hand reached out to brush over your cheek. Only at his touch did you realise that you had started to cry as he wiped down your tears. ‘And to you, I am truly sorry for everything I put you through.’ 

 You had nothing to reply with but a kiss, pulling him close to you. The steel bars of the cell caused an awkward distance between you, yet you never felt closer. It was as if now, you finally, truly, knew who it was you were touching. The kiss had been brief, but the silence that followed stretched on. The two of you sat there, sinking away from reality, but the questions you still had kept you grounded. Just as Eddie had said, a noose dragging you back. 

‘Eddie,’ you called him carefully. ‘What about the letter?’ 

‘What letter, princess.’ His hand kept rubbing over your tear-stained cheek. 

‘You know which one I mean,’ you pulled back slightly to be able to look properly at him. ‘Who was it for?’ 

He laughed, the saddest laugh you had ever heard come from him, and it pained you from within. ‘What does all this matter? I will be dead soon. The less there is left of me here, the better.’

 You watched him pull himself up again to sit, tap his knuckles on his knee. His answer had angered you. ‘Because…’ you took a deep breath, taking the leap you had been too afraid to take. ‘it just gives me that much less time to know the man I have fallen in love with.’ You wanted to keep as much of him as possible. That is what you could do by listening. To give him that voice in his own story. 

Eddie fell silent. His mouth opened to speak, but no voice came out for several tries. He searched for the right words until he finally blinked slowly and looked up at the ceiling. His jaw clenched once again, in the way that he sucked in a deep breath. As he released it, he said: ‘Her name was Christina.’

‘Your wife?’ Again, you thought of what he had told you earlier. I  already had lost everything I had to lose. He must have had people who cared for him before all this had happened.

‘Fiancée,’ he corrected, not that it mattered to either of you. ‘We had known each other our whole lives, having grown up on the same streets. We kept each other strong with this promise that one-day things would get better. That we would escape from all the burdens and create our own paradise. She was the reason I—’ he couldn’t speak of it out loud, and you didn’t need him to. You didn’t tell him to continue the story when he eventually did. 

‘Foolishly, I had not told her anything of what went on. I told her things would finally be good for us when I returned. We would leave and never turn back. I thought I was protecting her by keeping it all from her, but it was the final nail in my coffin.

 ‘She had been the first person I saw after my return, and I could sense that something was wrong.  Then the guards knocked on the door, and she opened it like she had been expecting them. 

‘I could only assume it was Carver. That he told her what he told everyone else. She wouldn’t look at me, touch me, speak to me. No matter how hard I tried to prove myself, he had poisoned her with his words. In the end, she only saw me as a monster.’ 

The last word stung you in your chest, knowing how often you had used that exact word to describe him yourself. How often have you called him a monster or even worse?  But his openness triggered more memories to come up. Your conversations with the crew of the Red Tail. Their stories and lives. 

‘Christina…’ you mumbled the name with familiarity. ‘That was… that was the name of the admiral’s wife.’

‘It does not come to me as a surprise,’ he chuckled that sad laugh again. He had clearly expected to hear those words eventually. You looked at him, feeling the sting in the corners of your eyes. The tears were coming right back, but he quickly wiped those too. ‘Please, don’t. I do not need your pity. I have told you everything there is to know about me, and that is all I could or ever will ask of you again.’

‘I don’t—’ you wanted to speak, but he quickly went on. As he held your face in his hands, his thumb brushed over your lips, 

‘And I will cherish these moments, every second I spent with you, until my last breath. I will think of you as the sun sets, I promise you.’

‘What—what are you talking about?’ your voice choked between sobs. 

‘I never expected you to come here,’ he kissed you, passing all the feelings he had voiced earlier over to you with the touch of his lips, ‘but don’t come here again.’

‘What? No!’ You pushed yourself away. This wasn’t the plan. You were going to help him. You were going to get him out of here. As you got up to your feet, so did he, reaching for your hand again.

‘Listen to me.’ he gritted his teeth in desperation. ‘There is no way out of here, and it will only get worse for me.’ As he said so, your eyes flashed back to the bruise on his pale skin. ‘I do not want you to see me like that. Let this be where we say our goodbyes.’ He held your hand, finger over your knuckles, soothingly. You hated that he was comforting you at this moment.

‘No,’ you whimpered, head shaking. You turned your hand around in his to grab onto his fingers. One of his skull rings slowly began to slide off, and so you stopped before it dropped.

‘Please,’ he squeezed your hand.

‘No!’ you shouted, not caring if the guards outside could hear you. They might storm inside any second now and drag you out, they could try, but you wouldn’t let them. ‘I won’t let you die.’

‘It’s okay.’ He said. With every sentence he spoke, a new piece of the puzzle had been allotted to its place, but the final picture still blurred before your mind. It only seemed like even more gaps needed to be filled in, but it was slowly coming together, and when it did… You wanted to cry out. 

Eddie held you as best as he could through his restraints, the faintest smile painted over his lips. 

‘You knew, didn’t you?’ you stood there, defeated. ‘That if you would come back here with me, that this would happen. You knew you would be arrested and hanged.’

‘At least now I truly deserve it.’ All the crimes he committed at sea trying to help others, what he had let happen to the Red Tail. ‘So, please, just go. I promise, it will be alright.’ 

You wanted to scream at him. Hit him, punch him, and much more for all of this. You wanted him to hurt as much as you did as he told you to leave, but in reality, you doubted anything you could do to him would match even half of the pain you felt as you stood there. You wanted him to hurt, but all you could do was take one last step forward and pull him in to kiss you. 

When you left, you could still feel him on your lips. That feeling let you move step by step out onto the street. Everything else felt not quite right, not quite real. You walked mindlessly across the empty market, barely aware of your surroundings, until you suddenly stood in front of your room door. You dropped the empty basket at your side and practically floated onto the bed.

It was late; you had no idea what time exactly, but too late for anyone to help you get out of that corset. You lay on the bed, now unable to get up, unwilling to move even if you could, staring up at the ceiling. Maybe you never stopped staring or fell into a slumber, but the next morning you still lay on your back, barely changing position over the early morning hours.

 You sat in your room, looking at the tide coming and going, pushing the sand and the rocks through the hours. The hours blurred; days became night, and the moon turned into the sun. The following two days passed, and you spend them in silent disbelief and confusion, just fighting to not return to the prison cell.

There must be something you could do. People you could convince or pay or bribe in any other way to not let the execution take place. Help him escape. 

This could not be the end.

But Eddie had made his final wish clear. You were not to see him again, and what could you do when no one would listen to you? When everyone on the island had his mind set on what Eddie was? You were paralysed with helplessness, and no matter what you tried to do or what to think about, it just would not go away. It grew inside you, impossible to ever leave you again, and you were slowly making peace with that. Your own price to pay for not being able to do anything for him when he truly needed it.

Even when you arrived at the square, which was filling up with an audience hours before the event, were you trying to look for escape routes, but the more people arrived, the more challenging a wall they created to penetrate. You would never be able to run through it, but you thought of it. Holding his hand, never looking back.

The sun that afternoon was flaming hot, burning through all the layers of your dress that pinned into your ribs as you sat down. The governing families got the best seats on the raised platform in the house, with plush chairs to wait on while everything was prepared. There was only the cool breeze of your fan to cool you down, but it did nothing on your nerves. They burned within just as much as the sun's rays. 

You had not been sure if coming was a good choice or if you were prepared to witness Eddie’s death, but your absence would surely be questioned and… and you could not pass on the ever last possibility of seeing him. The dubiety ran through you with a threat of tears.

But more and more people came around to see, and you traced each face to find someone who could help you. Someone on your side. A familiar ally, but no luck. They were all prepared to see a man die tonight. The mumbling amongst them turned into chatter, and the conversations of local gossip turned to absolute mudslinging.

‘I heard he has killed over a thousand men with his bare hands.’

‘Well, I heard he had planned on taking over the army in order to become the next king!’

‘And I heard—’

‘I heard—’

I heard… One thing after the other, each one worse than the last. Could they not see this? All of it nothing but hearsay. They were putting a man on death row for things overheard at the market. Of course, no one would listen if you were to say this. 

The sky slowly turned a warm orange, glowing on the buildings like a soft fire. The bell in the church tower struck seven times, half through instinct and half through custom, people’s heads turned in one direction. All but yours because as they all looked at the procession—the court man carrying a large scroll of parchment, followed by the executioner, who pulled the chains that were locked around Eddie’s wrists and the two guardsmen behind him, weapons at the ready—you stared ahead at the gallows. The rope hanging on it looked short and could only mean one thing. 

A slow and painful death.

The clanking of the shackles echoed through the entire square with each step Eddie took. He was barely visible through the crowd, but the length of the executioner in front of him ensured everyone could follow the death march.

Eddie looked ill—pale and fragile. His steps were shaking, not improved at all by the heavy chains that pulled him forward. He stumbled around up the stairs to the gallow. You could see his eyes look up in fearful amazement at the construction of the gibbet. His Adam’s apple choked up and down, and then his eyes caught sight of you. 

Everything began to move at a slowed-down pace. 

He must not have expected you to come or hoped you wouldn’t because the brave and confident facade cracked for the tiniest moment. The sadness dominated his features for a glimpse of time, but it was all you could see. Too occupied by his view, he had missed his call to step up. The hangman shouted something from underneath his black hood, kicking Eddie forward. You flinched as Eddie kept his balance not to fall to the floor. You couldn’t do this. You could not watch this go down, but you did not want to leave him behind. Not ever. This could not be the end.

The court man stepped forward, unscrolling his parchment as he cleared his throat. It was enough for the people below, standing on the pavement, in the shadows of the buildings, on the balconies, to quiet down and listen as he read: 

‘On this day,’ his voice carried through the entire square, ‘we bear witness to the punishment of Edward Munson, pirate, for his admitted crimes of theft, perjury, extortion, abduction, desertion, high treason and murder, sentencing him to death as decided by the governing council. 

‘He shall hang here for God to give his final judgement and remain a reminder for any wrong-doers and sinners to come!’

You glanced at your father, who sat by untouched. Was Eddie’s body here to stay forever? You could not imagine having to walk around this town every day just to see his body be taken by the elements. 

The sun was nearly at the horizon, shining bright at all of you, its heat still heating your skin. 

The people cheered as the rope was put around Eddie’s neck, who waved to them as if they were not cheering on his demise. One hand pulling the other up, making the chain between them clink. A smile pulled at the corner of his lips, and it astonished you to see that he managed to stay his entertaining self even now. Always playing a role for the other man. Here to entertain. To provoke. To distract.

But the smile faded, body stiffened as the noose was pulled taut.

‘That’s a bit tight,’ Eddie commented, and in response to that, the hooded man pulled it even tighter. It dug into his skin. He looked down at where the floor would soon disappear from underneath him, then up at the sky and with a slight choke, he spoke out his final words, embellished by the last spark of his life: 

‘To reign is worth ambition though in hell: Better to reign in hell, then serve in heaven.’

People gasped, mumbling amongst each other once more until hushed to silence by the hangman walking up to the lever that would set everything into motion. As Eddie took his final breath, everyone held theirs in anticipation. Your hands were shaking; every breath you took felt like a betrayal to him and like a stab in your lungs. Your fan moved faster, the small gushes of wind barely doing anything to cool down your face. This could not be the end. Not this. Not now. It couldn’t be—

The arm was pulled, and it was as if it had removed the ground from underneath your feet; that’s how deep the drop in your stomach was as you saw Eddie fall. It was as much as you could bear seeing before you turned around, hiding your face in your hands, hiding your tears from everyone else. 

When hanging a person, two types of noose could be used. With the longer drop, the fall's impact would cause the neck to break and bring instant death. The shorter rope prolongs the act of dying as the rope digs into their throat, cutting off their air. During this, the square is filled with the sound of choked gasps, encouraged by the hundreds of onlookers. 

If you had been one of them, down there on the ground, with easy access to the podium, you would have stormed it. Cut the rope loose. But you sat on the balcony, surrounded by your father and the other gentlemen and guards, unable to move anywhere. So you could only hope that there would be someone to do what you wanted to do. That someone would show up and save him like you wish you could. But when no one came, and his strangled groans became more sporadic, you had had enough. You couldn’t do this. You could not sit by and watch or even listen to what was happening before you. 

Your father’s call of your name was muffled by the public, and your own internal screams as you ran out. Arms reached for you, but you pushed past them all. As soon as you were out of everyone’s sight, the tears started to flow, and they would not stop no matter how far you ran. And you wanted to run as far away as possible, as far away as your legs could take you. Off this island, away from these people. Yet, you eventually carried yourself back to the square. Each step made you dizzy through the corridors and down the stairs, but you could not stand still. 

You had thought you were faster, but as soon as you pushed the heavy doors open and saw the stream of people walking away, the truth sank into your bones. You pushed your way past the crowd back to the open marketplace. As soon as it was done, people lost interest and continued with their evenings as if nothing had happened, ready for whatever next was to come eventually. By the time you reached the foot of the gallow, there was practically no one else around you. 

The sun was saying its goodbyes, and his body was a dark shadow across the obscuring sky, hanging limp, still swinging from side to side but with every second coming closer to its final halt. Something about the movements looked so serene that you could not come to terms with that this was really it. Just like that… he was gone, but it happened so quickly, so easily. Too quickly. 

You stood in front of him as the last people left, and the sun disappeared at the end of the world until the real darkness fell upon you, and your tears finally dried out until your throat screamed for water and air, and you could barely stand up straight.

This could not be the end.

And you were one of the first people to hear of it. 

First, there was the prickling of the fire in the reading room, the flipping of the pages as you stared ahead at the words of the book, making yourself seem present in the room as your father sat by. Then there were the rushed footsteps in the hallway. The hushed whispers of hesitance behind the closed door as the men contemplated what to do. A creak of the door as they walked inside towards your father and leaned in to whisper so you would not hear what they had to say.

But the room was so quiet, you heard it quite clearly.

‘Sir, there is an…a problem.’

‘What is the matter?’ Your father, as always, did not find much need to express himself largely, but at the guard's response, his eyes grew wide, and for a moment, the glow of the fire seemed that much cooler.

‘The body…. It’s gone, sir.’

‘What do you mean,’ he composed himself quickly, ‘he is gone? How can that be?’ 

The guards never looked so small. ‘We do not know sir, but he is. It is like he has disappeared into thin air.’

‘Absurd,’ your father got up, and so did you. Before you got to say a word or take a step forward, he quickly stopped you. ‘You stay here.’

‘Absolutely not.’ Was all you replied as you rushed out of the room ahead of anyone else. 

You had already made your peace with never stepping a foot inside the town square ever again, not if you would have to be reminded of that afternoon, of everything that happened in the last months, but as you walked back up to it, you could not have been happier that you had returned. 

Only the rope left was where his body had hung and where it had meant to hang for days to come. Its perfectly knotted noose swayed like he had the last time you saw him. 

Everyone else was right behind you, but just before they reached the platform with you, you noticed something in the corner of your eye. A shine against the moonlight on the wooden beams. You could just barely reach it, but with a stretch of the arm, your fingertips just about managed to get a grip on it. Before you could look at it, you heard your father shout orders at the guards, making them search everywhere in the nearby surroundings. Maybe whoever had taken the body was still somewhere nearby. 

Whoever took it… was that what happened? Before you could look around for more signs that could clarify the situation, you were called to return back home. It would do little good to argue now, so you followed the guard tasked with escorting you to your room. Only when he closed your door and you sat down at your drawing desk that you opened your fist to reveal what it was you had found beneath the rope.

The pair of hollowed-out eyes of the skull ring stared back at you. There was no possible way for you to know what this meant if it even meant something, but you couldn’t help but smile. The ring was loose on your finger, but you kept it on. 

This could not be the end of Captain Eddie Munson. 

It wasn’t. 

For most people, he lived on as a ghost story, and as you had learned from a very young age, dead men tell no tales. The living pass their stories around, mouth to mouth, page to page. Blurring the truth with their urgency for clarity, they try to make sense of things they cannot understand. Secrets become myths and legends that barely resemble the truth. 

In most cases, it takes years, decades, if not centuries, but here, on this small island, the conversations on the street already trickled with gossip and rumours the following morning.

I did not want to believe it, but it must be true, what they say. He did sell his soul to the devil! And it came to retrieve his body. 

I told you! It is useless to try and kill the unkillable! No, did you not hear what he had said? “Better to reign in hell!” But he is the devil incarnate!

Well, I’m surprised they caught him in the first place! Why he must be a ghost. The lot of them on that wicked ship. All cursed, and now he will return to haunt us for the rest of our lives! 

Who was to say out of all of them what happened on that square once darkness fell? No one was there to see it or tell the truth, as all who could had long left the island. 

They left at night, days after everything went down after the search for Eddie’s missing body had been called off, “officially” said to have been stolen but never confirmed. Those who knew what happened to it stayed in hiding until it was safe to come out until all suspicions were blurred with the gossip and basically forgotten. Quietly, they ran to the harbour, unseen by anyone, swift as the wind. 

Unnoticed by anyone…but you.

Like most of the nights, unable to fall asleep, you had been looking out your window out at the harbour and the sea. The ships that calmly stood anchored there and the waves that pushed against them. Slowly, they put you to sleep, and so at first, you thought it was just a blur of your tired gaze, the dark spot in the far distance. It wasn’t a ship. And there, on the shore, there were no people preparing a boat. Not this late… 

You rubbed your eyes, trying to better understand what they were doing. Packing in a hurry, throwing things into the bottom of the rowboat. As you watched, you told yourself that it was just the exhaustion speaking, that you were fooling yourself with this hope, but you could not let the chance pass you by.

You left your room without bothering to put anything on over your nightgown. Quietly to not gain any attention, but still as quickly as you could manage. Who knew how much time you had left before they would leave? Then once out of the house, you ran as fast as you could. The past few days, it felt like it had been all you had been doing, running to and from things, running after something without even knowing what you were looking for, but now you knew. You ran until your lungs began to burn from the warm and dry air. Until your feet were ready to give in and until you reached the sandy beach. 

As much as you wanted to scream and shout, you kept quiet. You walked carefully up to the two figures at the shore until they noticed you next to them. It happened when you were only a few feet away; they heard the scuffle of your feet or your shaky breath and pulled their guns out. They were ready to shoot, but the second they needed to notice you in the dark saved your life. That is when you locked eyes with the man in front of you.

‘Eddie?’ you cried. Before he could say anything, you took the final few steps and closed the gap between you, pressing your lips against his. Just to know it was real. Just to make sure you had not gone completely mad. You pressed yourself against every inch of him that you could. 

With the need for air, you pulled back, and instinctually, your palm met the side of his face. ‘How? I saw you—’ You both breathed heavily, chests raising drastically as he turned back to face you with a smile and press his lips against yours again. Like the last pieces of the puzzle, his hands fit on your body perfectly. 

Then he pulled you apart, with his hands on your face, wiping away the tears that had formed along the way. ‘I know,’ he whispered, but the words were so close you could feel them. You could feel him. Just the feeling of his fingertips on your cheeks assured you that this was real and that it was really him. ‘And I’m so sorry.’

‘But why?’ You were trembling in his arms. 

‘I had realised very early on that the only way to truly escape this place was to die,’ he smiled the smile you thought you would never see again, ‘but, well, I was not ready for that just yet.’

‘But I saw you— I watched it all happen there—how did you—’ his being broke you. You could not stop staring at the man in front of you. At all the little knicks and cracks in his skin. The fading bruises, the scars, and the long red gash along his neck that proved everything that much more. 

‘I told you everything would be alright, didn’t I?’ And he never broke his promise. But still, as the truth settled in around you, it opened up a space for a new kind of hurt. 

‘Why didn’t you tell me? Why let me believe that you were gone?’

‘It was the one thing that actually killed me, believe me,’ he pushed the loose hair out of your face, ‘but I needed you to believe it like anyone else. If you believed it—it would make everything so much easier.’

You wanted to ask him what on earth that was supposed to mean, but that is when you remembered the boat at his side. And when you noticed Steve waiting impatiently behind him, the oar already in his hand.

 ‘You’re leaving.’ It wasn’t a question. Of course, he was. He couldn’t hide here forever. Out there, in the waters, he would be genuinely free. 

‘It’s all for the best, and with me gone for good, you could live on; move on,’ he said somberly. 

‘Do you think I could forget about you that easily?’ Your fist had clamped onto the material of his shirt. ‘Do you really think I think so little of you? That I had not spend every minute of the past days mourning you? Missing you?’ and now you had him… just to lose him again.

‘But it would all pass. You can find someone else, someone better, and be happy.’ He looked down at your hand to see the ring you had kept on your finger for the past few days. He kissed his ring and then looked back up at you. ‘Let me go, darling.’

‘No,’ you shook your head, much like you had in the dungeon, but this time, you were more adamant this time than ever. ‘I won’t let you. Not this time.’ 

He mumbled your name, trying to argue, but you were ready with a rebuttal before he even said anything.

‘I do not want to spend another day without you. Not if I know you are somewhere out there—’ you had been looking at the ring too, but then looked at him again as an idea formed in your brain. ‘Take me with you.’

‘I can’t do that,’ his smile was airy and light but filled with regret. ‘You belong here.’

‘No, I don’t. Remember what I told you when I came to see you?’ You pleaded with him. ‘Do you remember?’ You pushed the words out when he didn’t say anything. 

‘Yes.’ 

‘So, please, don’t leave me. Not again.’ At this point, you punched every word into his chest weakly as you began to cry again, and he let you. Then, when you were finally done, he held you, telling Steve off when he tried to put this to an end, even though he was right. There wasn’t much time left. The sun would come up soon again, and people would awake and see you, and it would all have been for nothing.

‘I wish I could give you the world, darling,’ he said, ‘I call you a princess, but we both know you should be treated as a queen and get anything you ask for, but I can’t do that for you. I am not the man you should be with.’ He kissed the top of your head. ‘Please, forgive me.’ And with that, he let you go. 

You had let him do many things in the past, but not this time.

‘Well, I don’t forgive you.’ He had already turned around to get to the boat, but you just stepped past him, stunning him and poor Steve, as you got in. ‘If you wanted the easy way out, Munson, you should have thought twice about who to kidnap.’ 

The two men looked bewildered momentarily, too stunned to respond, but Steve was the first to respond. ‘She’s right,’ and he followed you in. The boat rocked from side to side. You sighed as you looked at Eddie as he stood in the sand. 

‘I’m not scared, Eddie.’ you reached out your hand to him. ‘I want this.’ You wanted him. You wanted this life with him. You wanted to travel the world and have a life of adventures. You wanted to be free.

Eddie looked at you, still in apparent shock at your sudden assertion. You might have thought you had changed so much, but he still saw the same stubborn woman as that cursed day when you were hauled aboard his ship. On the contrary, he had been the one that changed, and he realised that as he cursed himself there on that beach. He knew he might come to regret this, but he thought he had regretted most of his choices, most of what he had done in the past months, and yet, he could not have been happier with where his life had led him, as it all led him to you. So, he took your hand and pulled himself into the boat.

You dropped the weights that had kept you anchored and made your way out into the sea where the Hellfire lay by patiently, waiting for her Captain and his Princess—despite what their titles actually may be—to return home.

The End.

thank you so much for reading!! if you want more of where this came from, check out my masterlist.

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[onepiece-asl-lover]

Idk if your requests are open if not respond to the Privately but So idk if you actually feel comfortable writing for Luffy I am looki for one piece x reader writers who have the requests open and came across you anyway I request takes place after the time skip where reading I ask Luffy if next year they can celebrate Ace with Luffy aka next year on the day of his death instead of feeling sad they want me make sure Luffy is happy so they will spend the entire day doing things would love like eating us favorite foods and doing things he would love

I'm totally fine writing this! I'll try the best of my abilities to write what you requested. If you dont like it I can make another. Also I'll make it a Luffyxreader thing

First ever ask!!!!

"Changing a tragic into comfort" Luffy x Fm!reader

You knew this day exact day your lover Luffy brother died. It had traumatized him so much that on the next year he sat in his room and barely ate, concerning you and the straw hats.

This year was the day that Ace died and when you woke up to hopefully to find Luffy next to you, you find him at your desk his hat covering his face and when you realized it he was asleep as you brought a blanket and tucked him gently.

Your head was clouded as you went onto deck watching over the railing the ocean. How couldn't you helped your lover the time he needed it the most. Were you just a bad lover and spouse.

You didn't keep track of time that Sanji called for dinner and Nami had to call you over. You could tell everyone was quiet today aswell. The death of the Fire Fist Ace and the traumatic Luffy had effect them as you guys all ate silently.

You step slowly as an idea clicked into your mind. Why don't you guys make him a small party a supporting comfort party with his favourite food items. It was the best idea you ever thought of till now as you spoke up from the quiet dinner hall.

"Please excuse me but I have an idea on how we can help Luffy." You said as you wiped your hands with a towel.

"Help Luffy?" Chopper asked as his little hands ate a loli Robin gave him.

"How can we help Luffy, we can't just being Ace back" Zoro said as he kept eating he wasn't wrong so Nami didn't hit him.

"I've heard of these things for people who have went through a traumatic event and losing sombody, it's called a..-" you tried to remember the title of this party.

"An offer party, where people who have gone through grieving often remember that it is the person who offered reassuring hope, the certainty that things will get better, who helped them make the gradual passage from pain to a renewed sense of life." Robin offered as you nooded.

Everyone seemed to listen up as you continued talking of a party and probably it might be f everyone in the crew. You know everyone in the crew as lost a loved one from a trainer to a father figure ect.

"I hope we could make a kind of party self care I believe where we get our favorite food, items, games, drinks ect and get comfort from each other."

"..." it was silent in the room it made you sweat thinking of their opinion and thoughts about this party thing.

"Y/n your idea is....SUUUUUUUPERRR" Franky says as he does his iconic pose."also can we have cola and bugers there too" he adds as you all laugh.

"And cottoncandy!" Chopper says as he jumps off Robin laps.

"The great captain Usopp declares he will want a grilled fish!"

"Yohohohoho! I would be delightful to have some curry aswell too!"

"I can pick Mikans from my garden!"

"I would enjoy sandwhiches"

"Onigiris"

"Mozuku seaweed"

"Guess I should get onto cooking then if I'll have to make all this food" Sanji chuckles a he goes to start cooking.

The dining room was as loud as it usually was which is more comforting then that dead silence a few minutes ago.

Nami ordered around for decorations. Zoro messed up. Usopp getting some of his fairytails books. Brook being out his guitar and getting it ready to place with. Franky using his robot skills and Jinbei helping Nami with decor. Chopper grabs some small royes he holds in his bag to show. Robin using her devil fruit to help around.

You smiled as you saw everyone getting ready as it remind you, you had to get Luffy as you trolled into his room.

"Luffy?" You said as you peeked your head through the door.

You see him staring at the window as you went next to him.

"Everything's alright?" You asked as you rubbed his head.

"..."

You sighed as you kept looking at him and brushing away fallen tears of his and plopped his strawhat back on.

"You know Ace wouldn't want you crying over him, he called you a crybaby when we were younger remember? He wound want you to accomplish your dreams to be the pirate king not let an incident stop you" you say as you rubbed his head.

You hear him sniffle as he wobbly answers.

"You-?re ri-right I should keep going no m-mattered what. Fo-far Ace"

"Yes, yes for Ace" you said as he slowly hugged him.

".....now how about we head outside? I think everyone wants you back as a captain? A crew can not be a car without a captain."

"Okay." Luffy said as he stood up as you stood up aswell grabbing a handkerchief wiping his tears as you lead him outside.

When you lead him outside onto the deck you could see his face light up at the celebrations with tables of food decor and the crew "helping" eachother.

"Luffy!" Chopper squeaked as he ran towards Luffy.

"Hey your back!" Usopp ran towards Luffy as well.

More and more people in the crew went to Luffy talking to him, showing him items they hold dear or giving him food

You could see him smile wide as he went around talking with his crew.

Usopp had a crafting stand and some childhood fairytale books

Choper has some little toys that Robin joined playing with him.

Sanji showed some childhood snacks he would make for his mother.

Nami opened her garden to anyone who could pluck a tangerine which was rare.

Franky shad a show to show off his robot abilities and skill.

Brook played songs for the crew.

Jinbei played around like a father being dragged to every station.

Robin reached some of an old language she used to know.

Zoro slept.

And Luffy laughed as he sprung around and also ate half the food.

You let out a breath as you saw Luffy happy again and enjoying the time with the crew.Everyone seemed so happy and joyous even when something tragic happened that turned into something joyus, and comforting.

Luffy wrapped his rubber arms around you thanking you for helping him and also letting him have party that is for everyone on the crew.

You loved this crew so much you would shake the world for them to be happy.

You couldn't hope for a better crew than this.

Shoutout to petalpetal for being my first ask I hope I did this the way you wanted this I really enjoyed writing this very much!

[sweetasmiele]

NALU WEEK - DAY #4

SCARS

“For once, you had a great idea, Natsu! The water is amazing.” Lucy squeezed her hair to let the water out and lay down. A nice cold swim was exactly what they needed. The last quest had left them covered in dirt and ashes, but that was to be expected when your partner was the Fire Dragon Slayer.

“Fish!” Happy yelled, diving once again into the natural pool they had found in the depths of the forest.

It was beautiful. The water shimmered under the sun, and the sound of the waterfall and of the birds singing was therapeutic. Lucy closed her eyes and sighed, her skin drying under the hot summer sun.

Her moment of peace was short-lived. She was showered with droplets of water as Natsu shook himself like a dog next to her.

“Natsu!” she yelled as he plopped down on his stomach just beside her. 

“Ah, this is the life!” he commented lifting his chest to rest on his elbows.

She closed her eyes again, and only to open them a few seconds later. Natsu wasn’t speaking but she could feel his attention on her and his hand was tracing abstract shapes on her arm. 

It took her a second to realize he was following with his fingers one of her old scars. Feeling her gaze, Natsu raised his eyes. He didn’t say anything, but Lucy knew he was asking for permission to continue, and she nodded.

“That one is old. It’s from when we were looking for Macao, remember?”

Natsu's eyes were back on her scar, his eyebrows furrowed and his lips pursed. He looked so focused Lucy was almost afraid to talk. She felt his hand move from her bicep to her elbow, his fingers touching the sensitive skin of another small scar.

“Tenrou Island,” she said immediately without him asking. She felt his hot touch linger a moment longer before his fingers moved down to her forearm. 

“That’s actually from when we got stuck in that bell after the Grand Magic Games.” she chuckled and saw his cheeks and ears coloring. 

“When you decided to get naked right in the middle of a fight?” he teased tapping his fingers on her skin, his smile turning into a smirk. 

It was Lucy's turn to blush. She squirmed under his touch, but he didn’t move his hand.

“It wasn’t my fault!” she whined, but before she could defend herself more Natsu’s smirk disappeared. His hand had reached her wrist. 

The marks from Virgo’s Fleuve d'étoiles had left a mark that went all around her wrist. It wasn’t a dark scar, it was barely there, but Natsu had seen it. 

Among all the memories she had cited, that was the most painful to revisit, so she remained silent. Natsu seemed to sense her tensing up because he moved on without waiting for her explanation.

His hands reached her waist, and Lucy’s breath caught in her throat. She felt his fingers push against her skin, suddenly much warmer than a second before. 

“That’s also from the Grand Magic Games,” she whispered, worried she would disturb his meticulous search.

“Minerva,” he growled, his expression darkening. Lucy wasn’t ready for that sudden change of mood, and she observed him quietly as his expression hardened and his eyes narrowed. 

His hand descended to her bikini, where a long scar started from her navel and disappeared under the fabric. His hand stopped right there, where the skin met the swimsuit. 

She blushed, but he didn't seem to realize where his hand was, his gaze dark and intense. 

She didn’t know if it was because it was a sensitive spot or because that touch belonged to Natsu, but each little movement, even her abdomen moving up and down, was enough to make her shiver.

“Natsu, it’s okay,” she said softly, a smile in her words. 

“No, it’s not. I don’t like it.” His gaze was fixed on his hand, still burning against her skin.

“Oh, I know they’re not pretty, but—” she suddenly felt self-conscious and tried to move away, but Natsu’s hand kept her still.

“I wasn’t able to protect you,” he interrupted her, averting his gaze, his cheeks coloring once more. 

Lucy sighed, feeling silly for having doubted him, her body relaxing under his touch. 

“Natsu, I’m a mage,” she said, “you’re also full of scars.” To prove her point, she playfully tapped a scar on his shoulder.

“It’s different,” he pouted.

“How is it different?”

“It just is.”

She gently cupped his chin and turned his head to face her, and Natsu grudgingly obliged.

“Look,” she said, pointing to a scar on her knee. “This reminds me of the first time we met. Remember? When that guy was pretending to be you?” he rolled his eyes, but she continued. 

“And this? This is from that time we ended up in Edolas.”

“And this is from when I made you and Happy those cookies and burned myself with the pan!”

Natsu finally met her eyes, a smile fighting his way out. 

“They all tell a story,” she said. “A story about me and you.”

He finally allowed himself to smile, and, for a moment, Lucy thought he looked beautiful. With his cheeks red from the sun, his cherry pink hair still wet from their swim, and his golden skin shining under the sun.

“Want to know which is my favorite?” she asked, leaning toward him, their noses almost touching.

He nodded, his eyes wide with curiosity, and for a second, Lucy could have sworn he was holding his breath.

“This one,” she pointed to her shoulder, where a series of little dots formed an arc.

“Where is it from?” he asked, furrowing his brows.

“You idiot! You bit me last month!” she smacked him on the head and jumped on her feet ready to run. Natsu was soon at her tail. 

She kept laughing and tripping, and it wasn’t hard for Natsu to catch her and throw her in the water, but she didn’t care. Her heart was full. 

Those scars were part of her and she cherished each of them, just like every moment she had shared with Natsu.

(Needless to say, she added a new scar on her knee, tripping during her run.)

[orange-peony]

For the trope mash-up: I used a random number generator and got

8: Hospital AU

And

63: Everybody Knows/Mistaken for Couple

And I think those would make a great lil snowbaz AU!!

Thank you sooo much for your ask and sorry it took absolute ages!

“Baz, you’re needed in room three,” Niall says, looking like he hasn’t slept in two days (he probably hasn’t). “Your boyfriend managed to get another injury for the sole purpose of coming to snog you.”

“Snow is not my boyfriend!” I reply for the umpteenth time, but my legs are already moving faster than I thought my tiredness would allow.

What the fuck has he done this time?

“Baz, Simon has come to see you! What a lovely surprise,” Ebb proclaims with a smile as I walk past her. She also probably hasn’t slept (or showered) in ages, but she somehow never loses her lovely manners and sweetness. “You know, he always says he was a terrible boyfriend to Agatha, but it’s so nice to see how much he’s changed.”

“Oh, I can confirm he was a shit boyfriend,” Agatha comments drily while she makes a poor man wail in pain as she changes his dressing. 

“Still not my boyfriend,” I declare, deciding to ignore them.

Room three is just at the end of the corridor. I calm down when I hear him chatting cheerfully with the nurse on duty—it’d better not be Smith-Richards, that fucking flirt. 

“Oh, hello Baz!” Snow greets me with a grin, his cheek smudged with something that I hope is just dirt. My eyes go automatically for his arm, which is carefully being tended by Pippa (thank god it’s her). 

The cut looks pretty deep, but nothing life-threatening. I sigh in relief and tell Pippa she can go. 

“When are you going to stop being such a reckless idiot?” I ask as a greeting, and he produces his usual apologetic smile, not even batting an eyelid when I start cleaning the wound, trying to be as delicate as I can.

“Baz! Your boyfriend’s come to visit you!” Dev exclaims after popping his head in with a shit-eating grin. “Don’t forget—no hanky-panky at work.”

“I’m not a horny incubus like you and Niall,” I reply, my eyes fixed on Snow’s wound. I don’t want him to have a scar. Not another one. Those butchers who treated him before I met him made such a shit job at patching him up. But I’m going to make sure that no one else gets their hands on him. “And we’re not together.”

“No need to lie,” Dev says dismissively before he leaves us alone.  

“I was hoping you were going to be in,” he murmurs before I warn him that the anaesthetic is going to sting. He grimaces but makes no sound, a loud intake of breath is all I get for an injection in a spot that would make even the burliest men swear out loud. 

“How did it happen this time?” I ask, my tone probably harsher than I meant for it to come out. My eyes leave his wound to meet his gaze, and he smiles at me, licking his lips.

“It was actually Gareth’s fault,” he comments easily. “But I’ve got to admit I was a bit distracted. Someone was telling me about this concert. It’s the symphonic orchestra, and they’re doing this thing at Watford theatre on Saturday evening. I was thinking…would—shall I take you to see them? Hear them? I’ve never been to a concert before…”

My hands still, our eyes locking as I stare at him with my mouth open like a fish out of water.

This sounds like a date.

Is this meant to be a date?

“Baz, I’m going to lunch,” Niall calls from the corridor. “How long are you going to be with your boyfriend?”

“Very long!” I reply, and Snow’s uncertain expression slowly melts into a grin.

Is he actually my boyfriend?

“I mean, when we went to IKEA together,” he starts tentatively, “you said you play the violin. That you like classical music.”

“I did,” I confirm, still unsure if he’s asking me out.

“And the last time we went to the cinema, I picked the film,” he adds, “so it’s only fair that this time we do something you like. I mean, t-t-that is if you want to come—”

“Of course, I want,” I reply, so fast that I almost give myself whiplash. “Pick me up at seven. We can go to dinner first, if you want…”

His smile makes my heart melt like an icicle in the sun.

“It’s a date,” he says.   

Fuck, Snow is my boyfriend.

[halfagone]

*stares deeply into your eyes*

i know you're mostly a dpxdc blog, but it also seems like you like Tim Drake and Jason Todd, so allow me to share a ficlet that i made that i hope you like because you've written so many of my favorite fics, and i want to write you something too but it's too short, and writing is harder than i thought it would be 😭❤️❤️❤️

<<^^^^^^^^^^^^^>>

Tim is 13 now.

And currently, he is boredly fishing for Huntress while holding a fishing rod, the Joker squirming where he is tied up from the rod's string. The tape stuck to the Joker's mouth was slightly coming off, so his loud screams and grumbling could be heard all throughout the street.

Tim kicked the Joker in his side. "Can you please quiet down?!" he asked. "I want to fight Batman, but today's Tuesday!!! Riddler has dibs on Tuesdays!!"

"Oh my god." a familiar voice said, causing Tim to groan. "You villains have dibs on what days you fight the B-man?"

Tim pouted at Robin. "Not really," he said, kicking the Joker again in his frustration. The man let out a pained grunt, but didn't stop squirming. "Only the Riddler and Catwoman were nice enough to call dibs. Everyone else just does their own thing."

Robin chuckled and sat beside Tim, legs swinging as he brought out a lighter and cigarette.

Tim brought out his spray bottle and squirted some water as soon as the cigarette was lit. Grumbling, Robin put away his lighter, and flicked the cigarette towards the Joker, who growled when it hit his forehead.

"So, who are you trying to get the attention of?" Robin asked, taking out a lollipop and opening it, handing it to Tim who gratefully took it.

Grape flavor, a flavor Tim hates but will accept since he's bored. "Huntress," he replied. "I want to break her crossbows."

Robin furrowed his brows. "Why?"

Tim looked at him like he was stupid. "Because we have Guns? That are easier to Reload? And Faster??????"

"So, what, you're just here to diss on her weapon of choice?"

"And break it," said Tim, setting the rod down to bring out a roll of duct tape. He rips off a piece and sticks it over the Joker's mouth, over the old one. "She can still be a huntress with shotguns, y'know?"

"Why do you even want her to use guns?? Wouldn't it be easier for you, as a villain, if someone had bad weapons choice?"

And that was the thing, wasn't it? 13 years old, and Tim was a menace bordering on supervillainy. Ever since he's been a little boy, he just knew that he was going to become the World's Greatest Supervillain.

And right now, he needed to become Gotham's Greatest Supervillain.

So.

"If Huntress has better gear, she'll kill off all the other villains and rogues," he explained. "Then, it will only be me and the other big names left!!"

Joker scoffed. Tim kicked him again.

Robin only had a thoughtful look on his face.

Then.

"You know what? I don't think she's gonna change gears," Robin said, standing up and stretching side to side.

Tim pouted again. "I could still try."

"Or..." said Robin, who took off his mask and grinned down at Tim. "You could try convincing me to use guns."

Tim gaped.

Joker's eyebrows rose.

And Tim squealed, causing the Joker to scream in fear as the rod went swinging left and right, up and down, and all around. The Joker can't even vomit his dinner.

"So? So?!!! What's your villain name gonna be???" asked Tim.

"Not a villain," said the Ex-Robin. "Anti-hero, more like." Then, he smirked down at the Joker. "I'll be the Red Hood."

The Joker rolled his eyes.

But then gasped when Tim excitedly brought his hands up in excitement, causing the rod to be lift and the Joker to bounce around where he was hanging.

"I don't know what brought this on," said Tim, vibrating in place, "but I hope we could have a great partnership going up against Batman!!!"

The Newly Dubbed Red Hood grinned, extending a hand out for a shake, which Tim took, which accidentally caused him to let go of the rod.

WHICH caused the Joker to scream, and land splat on the ground, legs breaking and head cracked open.

Above, the Supervillain Tim and Anti-Hero Red Hood's partnership began beautifully under a cloudy, Gotham night.

<<^^^^^^^^^^>>

i hope you liked it!! it didn't exactly go how i wanted and the ending felt rushed, but this was an experience! you've written so many fics, and this frustration and excitement i felt while writing makes me appreciate you more!! i wish you to always be healthy and happy, and i hope you continue writing what you love ❤️ thank you always for writing and sharing your fics ❤️ they are some of the best things i have in my life

*goes cross-eyed*

I do post a lot of DPxDC, but I was originally a fan of both fandoms separately. So you can imagine now why I was so obsessed with the crossover. lol And I've written some of your favorites?!?! 🥺😭 Thank youuuu!! Oh how it warms my heart.

As for the little ficlet you've sent me: djgfhnhfjkhs They are menaces your honor. Tim is definitely unhinged. Good for him. Somehow it feels like becoming Batman's partner actually taught him some self-control and since he isn't Robin here, well, guess he doesn't have any. lol

ajkhhkghfj If you keep complimenting me I will simply burst into flames. I'm glad you had fun writing this too! It can definitely be frustrating at times, especially when you want everything to be perfect, but half the fun is just doing something you love. ❤️

Thank you for the unexpected ficlet and compliments! May you have a wonderful rest of 2023! 🥰

[wetratheadcanons]

some battinson headcanons cause i still think about him almost a year later but 60% is actually just me projecting onto him

is autistic (obviously), but also has adhd

he also deals with intrusive thoughts, it's why his no-kill-policy is so important to him

loves video games, obscure internet lore and horror - especially analog horror and found footage

his favourite games are project deepweb, he solved it in just a little under 2 hours, and vampyr, he always plays the pacifist run despite it being harder

has a whole wall dedicated to the five nights at freddy's lore, scott cawthorne might be his biggest enemy

absolute animal magnet despite being kinda terrified of all of them

can't go anywhere that has animals because they're immediately flocking to him

the whole "introvert at a party finds the dog" - situation but instead the dog finds bruce and refuses to leave

ace was the first animal bruce wasn't ever really scared of, alfred thinks he may have been trained to be a psychiatric service dog prior to his adoption

wherever bruce is in the tower, ace isn't far away, his presence calms bruce

prefers loud music, he doesn't like being alone in his head too much and the noise helps him

apart from nirvana and my chemical romance, his favourite bands are ghost and ice nine kills because he likes their consistent themes

selina gifted him a pair of pink cat-ear headphones once and they're the only pair he ever wears at home

he claims it's just because they're comfortable but everyone knows it's because he loves them

eats when he's hungry but rarely at specific times, it doesn't make sense to him

he can't really eat after waking up

doesn't eat meat, he feels like it lies too heavy in his stomach

he also doesn't like the smell of cooked meats or fish

he loves sour fruits and has a mild sweet tooth

has a caffeine addiction but he doesn't like the taste of coffee, prefers black and green tea (to alfred's delight) and energy drinks (to alfred's horror)

he's trans ftm who is either gay or bi with a preference for men (he doesn't know and doesn't care to find out)

selina and him never went further than their kiss, bruce will always put gotham before anything else (until dick comes along) and selina needs a freedom that he can't give her

they also both realised it was a spur of the moment thing since they barely knew each other at that time and found they're better off friends

they're co-parenting a kitten though it's adorable really

bruce found her half dead on patrol one night and called selina in a panic about what to do, they named her chewy

ace loves chewy, she sleeps on his head, bruce has an entire folder on his phone dedicated to pictures of them

had a robin hood phase when he was 6, tried to steal from his parents to give to people in need

alfred continually reminds him of this after he takes in dick

his favourite rogue is ivy, they have important conversations (as in ivy talks and bruce hngs) about climate change while bruce tries to stop her from murder

he implements policies build after her ideals into wayne enterprise

his respect for her rises after she gets together with harley

for all that he fights it, he can't sleep without the sound of gotham - which includes gotham typical crime

he thrives when he's alone, it's how he does his best work, be it batman or wayne enterprise

has trouble admitting defeat, dick joining him as robin helped him in that department a great deal

is pierced. he did almost all of them himself, alfred has a heart attack everytime he spots a new one

the public has a weird badboy image of him, bruce has no idea where it came from

doesn't bruise easily but is still constantly in pain

has an absolute shit posture, social anxiety and crime fighting don't help

sleeps in the worst positions humanly possible

has a weird thing about mirrors, avoids them as much as he can

doesn't give interviews ever, it's part being a social recluse, part everything the press did to his parents, part hating to be perceived

has troubles with empathy, but his compassion makes up for it in great detail

dick uses him as a jungle gym, he pretends to be annoyed but secretly loves it

when bruce is working on cases in the cave, dick hangs head down off of bruce's back with his legs over bruce's shoulders

dick claims it helps him think, bruce knows it's because he doesn't want to be alone

bruce loves the relationship dick and selina have, might be a little jealous that cat got through to the boy much faster than him though

after taking in dick, bruce makes sure to show alfred that he actually does see him as a father figure - regrets all the times he told him that alfred's not his father

that's all i have for now

[mrhowells]

Smallville 5x04

LOISSS MY WIFE IS BACK!!!!

Shut up Clark no one was hoping she'd stay in Europe longer, you just can't deal with her greatness

"Actually, I just ran into Mrs. Kent at the Talon and right out of nowhere, she asked if I'd like to move back into the farm😇". "Yeah right." "...😇" "...Really?"

AHJKHSJS PLS THE FACE JOURNEY

Lois: 1 - Clark: 0

See that's why we need Lois, it immediately turns into a comedy and Clark gets more personality.

LOIS BIKINIJFKSFJAKJK

BRO. HOLD ON. Was the AC actor on b99 as young Scully?? PLS that would be so funny.

the prettiest girl I've ever seeeen🎶 from the cover of a magazineeee🎶

like????????

she's still insulting the guy who saved her I LOVE HER SO MUCH THAT'S THE LOVE OF MY LIFE OKAY

and the Lana/Lois scraps I liveeee (but also, why didn't we get more, where is the humanity?)

"He can swim faster than I can." HEHEHEHEEHEE😈

Professor Milton Fine? I don't think so

He really just compared Lex to Hitler, BRO💀💀

Same Clark, same

"I got a buck." "Yeah? You should use it to get some fashion sense."

lmaoooo

LOIS STAHP I'M NOT STRONG ENOUGH FOR THIS

It's actually beautiful, you can see her come up with her next burn in real time

"You know, this, uh, whole orange and green thing you got going? Looks like Flipper threw up."

Gooodd I'm in love with her

SHE CALLED HIM FISH STICK I'M-

"You were turning blue." "It's a good color on me."

LOIS STOPPPPPP I NEED TO BREATHE😭😭

THE WAY HE'S LOOKING AT HER? DUDE SAMEEEE

no because they actually have great chemistry

wdym German philosophy is easy DO YOU KNOW THE TORTURE I WENT THROUGH IN HIGH SCHOOL??? DO YOU??

stop why am I shipping Lois and AC they're so cute together😭

HELP

Lois if he falls into the water, shouldn't you jump in after him??💀

I really feel like they made the change in Lex too abrupt which is kind of a bummer because they had a great setup for it after Lionel tried to kill him at the end of season 3.

"You really don't listen, do you?" "No, I try not to, I find it distracting."

AGAIN, I LOVE LOIS AND THEY'RE CUTEEEEE

some of his pickup lines are really cringy though💀

not me getting invested when I know this isn't going anywhere😭

"LOIS??!?!?"

perfect timing Clark

Clark: 🧍😠

"Lois is all over this guy. And all we know him is that he can swim faster than I can."

jsdkdjHkas HE NEEDS TO GET A GRIP BECAUSE WHY DOES HE SOUND ANGRY AND NOT CONCERNED😭💀

I can't

Chloe: listing perfectly normal things about AC like him being on a swim team

Clark: Does he have a criminal record?😠

"I don't know what it is about this guy but I get a bad feeling."

Mmmhhhmmmm okay yeah...

CLARK DON'T EMBARRASS YOURSELF PLS

Even Lana is so done with his shit I'm crying

"Do you really believe that or is that just a pickup line for the girls?" "Clark!!!!"

RIGHT IN FRONT OF LANA LIKE-

you can't make this up😭

PLSSSSSS

Okay Lois he would totally attack AC because he's jealous (and he kinda did💀) but he wouldn't straight up invent lies about him, come on.

OOOOh is this actually the first time we hear the nickname boy scout? (I don't have the best memory so I'm not sure😅)

not AC calling Lex "bro"💀💀

"One day of college and he's already an activist."

PLSSSSS

Again, I think they could've set up this plot a bit better wrt Lex's reasons for selling that weapon despite the damage that it causes.

I'm sorry but this is kind of funny

OK NOW I'M FULL ON LAUGHING

WHAT IS THISSSS😭😭

"Are you okay?" "WET AND READY BRO."

SHDAJKFHDHGWAUIFGQM W H A T ???

WET

AND

READY

????????

I JUST FELL OUT OF MY BED WHO IS THE LEGEND RESPONSIBLE FOR THIS PIECE OF DIALOGUE I MUST KNOW😭

"Well, you didn't tell him about my pitchfork, did you?" "I defended you."

*brief pause from the comedy of it all to feel PAIN*

the way AC says "bro" takes me outttt

"Maybe we should start up a junior lifeguard association or something."

STOOP THAT'S WHAT BART SAID TOO (not the lifeguard part but you know what I mean)

This just in, JLA stands for Junior Lifeguard Association💀

STAY SUPER BRAH (I'll stop making fun of AC now I prommy)

noooooo Lois😭😭😭

welp, I shipped it while it lasted

(I'm still tagging this post as clois though because we all know who the OTP is😌😌)

"I was just trying to look out for you." If you say so👀

not to be repetitive but...

CAN WE TALK ABOUT HOW GOOD SHE LOOKS IN THIS LIGHTING????

"I've known a lot of guys who want to own the world. I haven't met very many who actually want to save it. How am I ever gonna meet someone like that again?"

SCREAMING CRYING THROWING UP FALLING TO MY KNEES DO YOU GUYS EVEN UNDERSTAND????

That, exactly that is the reason she loves Clark (or will eventually, whatever) I'M GOING INSANEEEE THEY WROTE HER SO WELL😭

"Lois, I promise, some day... you'll meet someone even more special."

this episode was everything I needed and more

[lyssified]

i'm asking you about hemingway what would you like to say?

okay first of all THANK YOU for this ask and i'm so sorry I took my sweet time answering it

anyway I have a lot to say abt this so I hope you don't mind if it turns into a little bit of a rant because YES Hemingway was terrible and kind of a freak in a /neg way but he also had the most insane 22 years of life I have EVER heard of

buckle up y'all :)

also trigger warnings for discussions of war and not super graphic injury, dead bodies, horrifying age gaps, discussion and threats of suicide, and just generally Hemingway being a fucking awful person

guys my sources for this is 4 weeks of reading and documentary watching in English class, don't come at me if this isn't exact because i'm going mostly off memory here

so Ernest Hemingway, if you haven't heard of this guy, is a super super famous American writer remembered for his short stories and completely changing the game in literature. he was also kind of a womanizer and had like 4 wives, he was also homophobic and misogynist and stuff. in my opinion his stories are pretty average although the subtext is usually super interesting & there's a lot of great discussion to be had (I will refer you to this pdf of the complete collection of his short stories)

so anyway, Hemingway was born in 1899 and he grew up in Oak Park, Chicago, Illinois, United States of America as the second oldest of like 9 kids. growing up, his mother used to do a silly little thing where she would twin Hemingway and his older sister as either two boys or two girls, and it would be so convincing that their neighbors were confused and thought she had 2 sets of twins. Hemingway eventually grew out of that and started to hate the practice. he began to idolize his father, who was a doctor and also had depression. Hemingway blamed all of his father's issues on his mother and most people think his hatred from women stems from his hatred of his mother because he wanted to be like his dad so badly

so anyway, as much as Hemingway would grow to have literally 4 wives, he was essentially remembered as being a no bitches loser in high school. he had very few friends, sucked at most sports, was pretty clumsy because of his nearsightedness, and really enjoyed taking solo trips to hunt and fish in Michigan. by himself.

naturally, when he was 17 all he wanted was to enlist in the army and fight in WWI because he was a manly man like that. however, he was also really really scared that the army would reject him because he kind of sucked at physical exertion and was also nearsighted and so he signed up to join the red cross!! he was immediately fucking deployed to the FRONT LINES in Italy and promptly almost fainted upon seeing his first dead body. he decided he wasn't really about that almost fainting life so he decided he wanted to drive the ambulance !! and he did that pretty well. for about 2 weeks

and then he said quote unquote "i'm bored of that shit" and volunteered to BIKE up the MOUNTAINS with a CART full of CHOCOLATE AND CIGARETTES to bring to the soldiers. he was the snack boy. he was the fucking snack boy for the army. and then a mortar shell exploded like. 2 feet away from him and embedded him with an absolute Fuck Ton of shrapnel ! he actually wrote that he felt as if his soul left his body in that very moment and then floated back to him

so that absolute Fuck Ton of shrapnel stayed in his leg for quite a while actually, because when they finally got him to a hospital in Milan, he REFUSED TO BE TREATED. he said there were people that needed the treatment more and that he could live with the Fuck Ton of shrapnel for a little while longer. so anyway when he finally did get around to having like 275 pieces of shrapnel removed from his leg, he had some serious mental illness going on. he went through somewhere around 13 surgeries without any painkillers or stuff to numb the pain because a) he was super depressed and wanted to die and b) was also kind of a masochist and enjoyed the pain.

so Hemingway was in the hospital recovering for a fucking WHILE right, and he meets this nurse. she's 27 (he's like 19 or 20 or something) and her name is Agnes von kurowsky. she's his night nurse and they fell in love. they did some cute things like her leaving her hairpin under his hospital bed pillow and them reading to each other late at night. they also did some not so cute things like her calling him "kid" and also sneaking alcohol into the hospital in the wee small hours of the morning and her getting drunk on the job

anyway, Hemingway finally recovers and shit is going GREAT for him. he's got a nurse girlfriend who is 6 or 7 years older than him who writes him every day from france, and he just got back to Oak Park and the US was so impressed with his masochistic depressed surgery-with-no-painkillers thing that they gave him a medal!! so naturally, he thought he was hot shit for that. he started parading around the neighborhood in his full uniform and charging the residents to listen to him tell completely false stories about the war.

around this time was when shit started going downhill. Hemingway received a breakup letter from France from Agnes, and the letter said that she did love him, but not in a boyfriend girlfriend way. IN A MOTHER SON WAY (eeeeeeeeeeeeew). so he got son-zoned. and he wasn't very happy about that, so he decided to start partying in the woods with minors and going hunting and fishing again to prove to himself that he was still hot shit. and his parents really didn't like the "parading around in full uniform telling lies and then going to party with minors in the woods" schtick, so they told him hey ! cut that out !

direct if somewhat paraphrased quote from hemingway's dad: "shorten your temper, respect women, and fear God"

so Hemingway moved the fuck out of there and found himself ANOTHER girfriend !! her name was Hadley Richardson and she was also really really depressed. on the day of their wedding, Hemingway actually threatened suicide but she guilt tripped him into not doing that and then they moved to France and made friends with a lot of artsy people and Hemingway started writing again. He got a job for a newspaper and tried to get some of his short stories published. he got invited to a conference in Sweden at one point and met a publisher that was interested in his work. he asked Hadley to bring his work up to meet him, so she packed EVERYTHING into a trunk and took it on the train- she had it delivered to her car. when she got there, the trunk was gone. to this day we still don't know where all of Hemingway's early work is.

anyway. let's recap. AT THE RIPE AGE OF 22!! Ernest hemingway was: dressed as a girl by his mom, learned intense hatred of woman at a young age, got no bitches in highschool, got too scared to join the army, drove an ambulance, became the snack boy, got a Fuck Ton of shrapnel in his leg, underwent 13 surgeries without painkillers, fell in love with his nurse, got a medal for masochism, got son-zoned, got told to respect women and fear god, married his first of 4 wives, and lost every single one of his short stories that he had ever written

AND HE WENT ON TO DO MORE INSANE SHIT but this is getting really really long so we'll call this part 1 and i'll reblog this with some other stuff I find insane about him !!

THANK YOU FOR THE ASK SORRY THIS WAS A RANT

[spiritofcamelot]

Mermaid AUs!

Counting for the prompt table, headcanon 4 counting for characters of color day. I’ve also included some excellent art by people on tumblr which I used as inspiration. Please go check out their posts to show them some love!

Art by Karina

Agent Triple X wasn’t just given the designation for her deadly skill. She herself is a state secret, the subject of government bioengineering. She was born a mermaid, and lived many years below the waves before she was captured. They hid drugs in the fish she ate which changed her biology. Although she longs to return to the water, she can only revert her biology by giving herself an injection of drugs. It only lasts a few hours and the transformation both ways is painful. Still, she jumps at the chance to assist 007 on his mission to find missing submarines purely because she will be given the chance to swim again. Maybe, if she doesn’t use them all, this foreign agent will prove willing to help her find her freedom once more.

Art by @lasersinger​ (link)

Aki was eager to prove herself in the new secret service. She’s grown up on stories and had been training all her life. Initially, the other new recruits laugh at her. Not just for being a girl, but for her homemade armor and her headband of sharp shells which keep her hair out of her eyes. But she ignores them all and with the support of her friends, she finishes top of the class and only smiles proudly as she accepts her first mission. She smiles even wider when their quartermaster Tiger gives her a new set of armor made of pink coral just like her previous one had been.

Art by @jara-l-art​ (link)

Strawberry Fields was a bright young girl, really, she showed lots of promise. Unfortunately, she was easily charmed. Especially when she’d had a drink or two. As small as she was, she should’ve been an excellent operative for the service. She could easily swim through building pipes and eavesdrop through the sinks. Men talked about so many secret things in bathrooms when they thought they were alone. But sometimes she got a little too eager and jumped in with the ice at a bar where she inevitably got scooped up and poured into a cocktail. The alcohol went right to her brain and while she did provide a great distraction for the primary agent, her handler often had to make a scene herself to make sure she didn’t suffocate when she was thrown to the floor with the rest of the cocktail.

Art by @prinnay​ (link)

Nomi was the deadliest goldfish agent they’d ever had. Most goldfish could do the distraction, but then they were also distracted. Nomi, however, was simply drop dead gorgeous and knew it. She didn’t need to think about how to distract her prey, she simply did. Which meant she could focus fully on disarming and killing her opponent. It also worked well for getting her all the best missions and time off whenever she wanted. 

(link)

Summer jobs were very common where Felix had grown up. And he’d been proud of his, even worked full time there for a year after high school. But it wasn’t a common experience in the CIA so it didn’t get talked about much. Which was good. Because as much as it was cool, being a merman at Weeki Wachee Springs might not be seen as cool by the rest of the agents. He only got to wear a tail the one year he worked full time, but even being part of the acrobatic shows, not needing to break the surface to breathe for twenty minutes, it felt like being a merman even if he held an air hose in his hands. He didn’t think it was possible to love Della any more when she told him she’d also held a summer job as a mermaid there.

[onceuponaloonatic]

thank you guys so much for your support with this story! as i've said before, if there's anything in the fic you really enjoy or want to see more of please let me know as this is still a work in progress!

The next day, Nayeon is surprised to see Chaeyoung and Tzuyu at the door. Tzuyu was carrying a tray of what appeared to be cookies and Chaeyoung had a goofy grin on her face as she greeted them. 

“We thought we could help out. I know how little this place gets cleaned.” Chaeyoung explained. 

“And I brought some cookies.” Tzuyu informed. 

“You didn't have to do that Tzuyu-ah!” Sana giggled. Nayeon almost rolled her eyes at Sana’s familiarity. Sana always got to know people fast. Nayeon admired her ability to place so much of herself into others. (She also knew how much pain it had cause Sana over the years.)

“Nonsense, it's mainly for the kids.” Tzuyu grinned, carrying the cookies in. Nayeon then noticed Seojun behind them, holding what appeared to be a large big net. “Seojun already got a lot of them though, sorry.”

“It's okay.” Nayeon laughed. “Seojun, Hyemi is in the living room if you need her.” 

“Okay thanks.” Seojun ran off, his big net jostling as he ran.

“I hope Hyemi is okay with bugs.” Chaeyoung giggled. 

“She's fine. She's not really scared of them.” Nayeon shrugged. 

“Well that's good, he's definitely going to drag her beetle hunting.” Chaeyoung laughed at her son’s enthusiasm as he ran to Hyemi. Tzuyu walked to the kitchen to put the cookies away, and Chaeyoung giggled as she nearly ran into Nico, who was laying on the floor with a coloring book. 

“What are you up to Nico?” Nico looked up at Chaeyoung at the mention of her name, looking at Sana first before saying anything. 

“Coloring.” Nico muttered at Sana's reassuring gaze. 

“Oh yeah? What are you coloring?” 

“Fish.” Nico answered. 

“Wow, it looks super pretty, Nico.” Chaeyoung giggled. “I like the pink.”

“It's my favorite.” Nico muttered, still seemingly intimidated by Chaeyoung. Nayeon wondered when this started, she didn't remember Nico being very shy before. 

“Oh really? I like pink too.” Chaeyoung smiled. “Can I color with you?”

“Chaeyoung, we came here to help.” Tzuyu giggled at her wife. 

“This is helping.” Chaeyoung argued. 

“In what universe is that helping?” Jeongyeon laughed at her younger sister. 

“I’m helping keep Nico entertained.”

“She was okay before.” Sana laughed. “But, I’m sure you appreciate the company, right baby?” Nico nodded, her attention back on the coloring book in front of her. 

“I’ll help you guys in a bit. Tzuyu can help you reach the high spots.”

“Thanks for volunteering my services Chae.” Tzuyu rolled her eyes. 

“No problem babe.” 

Nayeon couldn't help the bubble of nerves that shot through her. Sure, she was happy they left. But all the change was starting to get to her. And while Nayeon had always been great at talking to people, making lasting friends had never really been her strong suit. 

xx

“Want to go get a drink?” Jeongyeon proposed. They had just finished dinner, leftover pizza from the day before, and the kids were all settled in the living room with a movie. 

“Yes please.” Nayeon groaned. 

“Wow I guess if you insist.” Jeongyeon smiled. “Hey Chae, want to get a drink with us?” 

“Sure.” Chaeyoung nodded. “Babe, you want to come?”

“I’m okay, I need to work early tomorrow. I can stay back and watch the kids.” Tzuyu smiled. “Have fun though Chaeyoung.” 

“Thanks.” 

“Sana, how about you? We have a baby sitter.” Jeongyeon turned to the other occupant in the room. Sana nodded, looking into her cup of tea. 

“No, I’m okay.” Sana chewed on her lip. “Have fun though.”

“Okay. See you in a bit.” Nayeon went into the other room, intending to tell Hyemi goodnight. She found her daughter half asleep, cuddling with her stuffed rabbit and Nico.

“Long day?” Nayeon giggled, pushing Hyemi’s hair out of her forehead, leaving a gentle kiss on her daughter’s forehead.

“It was fun.” Hyemi nodded. “We caught lots of beetles, but it was hot.” “I’m sure.” Nayeon smiled. “I’m going out with Aunt Jeongyeon, are you going to be okay if Aunt Sana puts you to bed?” “Yeah.” Hyemi nodded. “Have fun mommy.” “I will.” Nayeon gave Hyemi one more kiss on the forehead. “Be good. I love you.” “Love you too.” 

xx 

Sana slumped onto the couch as her daughter cuddled closer to her. Hyemi and Seojunu had both already fallen asleep, but Nico was being stubborn.

“Nico sweetie aren’t you sleepy?” “No.” Nico muttered. “Pororo?” “Nico… Okay.” Sana sighed, getting her phone out. She quickly pulled up Nico’s favorite show, getting her earbuds out and handing it to Nico. 

“Hyemi and Seojun are both asleep.” Sana looked up as Tzuyu joined her in the living room. Sana liked Tzuyu. She knew they just met, but the younger girl seemed really sweet. She didn’t talk as much as her wife, but Sana didn’t mind. “Do you mind if I call you Sana Unnie?” “Do I look that much older?” Sana giggled.

“No no! It’s just- Jeongyeon Unnie said you two were the same age-”

“It's okay Tzuyu.” Sana giggled. “I was just teasing you.” Tzuyu blushed, but it quickly faded into a smile.

“Is she not tired?”  Tzuyu pointed to Nico, sitting down on the other side of the couch. “Apparently not.” Sana giggled. “She can’t hear us, she’s totally into her show.” “Oh? Seojun does that too.” Tzuyu giggled, but her smile quickly shifted into a frown. “Jeongyeon Unnie told me about Nico’s… Condition.” “Oh, yeah.” Sana felt the atmosphere get heavier. 

“My brother had something similar…” Tzuyu trailed off. “Not the same thing, his was a heart condition, but he had a chronic illness.”  Tzuyu paused. “I could never imagine what that's like if it's your child. My brother was painful enough. I just wanted to say, if you ever want to talk about it, I can maybe understand at least a little bit of what you are going through.”

“Tzuyu…” Sana felt tears rush to her eyes at the sentiment. She quickly forced them back, she had been crying too much lately, and she barely knew Tzuyu. But the younger girl seemed ready to listen, and Sana had been bottling everything up inside for so long, it was beginning to spill out of her control. “Thank you. I-It's still really hard to accept. I just- one day she was a healthy baby and the next she was screaming in pain in my arms. And it felt so sudden, so abrupt. Like the world was ending right before my eyes.” 

“Mm.” Tzuyu nodded, taking one of Sana’s hands. 

“And, I know I’m not the one in pain. I’m not the one suffering. But it hurts me to know she's in unimaginable pain. And-and it hurts even more to know there is nothing I can do.” Tears dropped down Sana’s cheeks as she subconsciously squeezed Tzuyu’s hand. 

“It's frustrating, feeling like you have no control.” It was like the floodgates that had been holding Sana back for so long finally broke as more tears came rushing down her face. 

“I just- I feel like I have no control over anything anymore. My daughter is sick. My wife, ex-wife, is cheating on me with my best friend’s partner. I-It feels like I’m falling apart Tzuyu.” 

“I know.” Tzuyu muttered. “I know what that feels like. It sucks, and I’m sorry. But Unnie, you do have control over your own life.”

“How? Everything I’ve done for the last five years has been for nothing- nothing. My wife hates me. My daughter could die. What am I supposed to do?”

“It's not fair.” Tzuyu whispered. “It's not. But Sana Unnie, it's not your fault.” Sana felt herself sob even harder at the admission. “It's not. Nico being sick is something none of us could control. But your wife? She didn't cheat because of you Sana Unnie. People don't cheat on someone as amazing as you without being extremely self conscious and volatile and just- messed up. It's not your fault you got cheated on Sana.”

“You don't know that.”

“I do.” Tzuyu nodded. “All Jeongyeon Unnie has ever said about you is that you're so sweet and loving and genuine and I didn't believe someone could be like that before, but something in me knows she wasn't lying.” 

“Tzuyu…” 

“Look Sana Unnie, you didn't deserve what happened to you. None of it is your fault, okay?” Sana nodded, wiping her tears as quickly as she could. “You chose to come here right? That’s some control.” Sana sniffled at the sentiment. 

“Mommy? What’s wrong?” Nico looked up from her show, taking the headphones off and moving to hug Sana.  

“Nothing-nothing sweetie.” Sana sniffled, sinking into her daughter's embrace. 

“Your mommy is just a little sad right now Nico.” Tzuyu explained. 

“Oh.” Nico moved her face so she could look Sana in the eyes. “Don't be sad mommy.” Nico kissed both of Sana’s cheeks in a gesture she knew all too well. “I’m still here. And I love you forever.” Sana realized those were the exact words she would say to Nico when she was sad. Sana felt more tears escape as she hugged her daughter. “I’m sorry mama go away.”

“Nico…” Sana had been constantly worried how the entire thing was affecting her daughter. Apparently, Momo had been visiting Nico less and less since the incident. The thought of it made Sana’s blood boil. Nico was so much more than their marital issues. “Your mama isn’t gone… It’s complicated.” 

“Hyemi Unnie said Mama had to go away cause she loves Auntie Jihyo now. And mommy is sad about that, cause she loves mama. But I won't go away. I love you forever mommy.” Nico whispered, tears coming to her own eyes as she hugged Sana. 

“I love you so much Nico-chan.” Sana whispered. “More than you could ever know.” Sana moved Nico to give her a big hug. She noticed Tzuyu was still holding her hand, a gentle weight to keep her grounded. When she peaked at Tzuyu, she saw she had a reassuring smile on her face. 

Sana couldn’t help but cry even more.

xx 

“Cheer up Im.” Nayeon groaned as Jeongyeon drunkly swung her arm around Nayeon’s shoulder. “You're the one that wanted to come.” 

“Thought it would be different.” Nayeon muttered, swirling her vodka soda slowly. 

“Come on Nayeon Unnie, no one is going to want to talk to you with that scowl on your face.” Chaeyoung giggled from her seat a couple feet away from them. Huh, Nayeon doesn't remember when Chaeyoung asked to call her Nayeon Unnie. 

“I don't want to talk to anyone.” Nayeon grumbled. 

“Then why are you here? This isn't like you, grumpy pants. What happened to the Im Nayeon who would have been five shots further gone than me by now?” Jeongyeon giggled. 

“I had a kid.” Nayeon groaned, quickly downing her soda and briefly wincing at the taste. “I need another drink.”

“That could be arranged.” Jeongyeon laughed. “Bartender, two more shots please.” Nayeon rolled her eyes at the concept of shots and looked around the bar. It was small, and had a more pub-like feel to it. There were only a few other people besides them, but Nayeon expected that from a Sunday night.

Nayeon noticed her after Jeongyeon had practically forced the shot into her mouth. She must have just come in, Nayeon realized as the girl sat at the far end of the bar. She was different from the other groups of people. She sat alone, a book in her hand and a water set in front of her. Nayeon wondered how often she came here. 

“Ah, Dahyun-ah!” Nayeon groaned at Jeongyeon’s scream. The person with the book looked up at Jeongyeon’s call. The person, Dahyun, walked over to them slowly, a calm smile on her face. 

Nayeon couldn't help but think of how out of place she looked compared to the rest of the bar. Her hair was brushed and tame, her hands gingerly held a cup of water, and she looked so calm. She stuck out like a sore thumb compared to the rough looking bar around her. 

“Hi Dahyun, this is Nayeon, she's new in town.” Dahyun gave Nayeon a wave at the mention of her name. “Nayeon, this is Dahyun. She will be teaching Hyemi and Seojun next year.” 

“Oh.” Was all Nayeon could say. She certainly hadn't expected to meet Hyemi’s new teacher in a place like this. 

“Sorry for the weird meeting spot. I know it's probably strange for a teacher to be in a place like this on a Sunday.” Dahyun giggled. “But I promise I’m not some drunkard.” 

“Oh, it's okay.” Nayeon nodded. “You’ll be Hyemi's teacher.” 

“Yes. I've heard about Hyemi’s transfer. I know it can be really hard for kids to switch schools, so if you want, I would love to meet with her once before the summer ends. To you know, go over summer homework, get to know each other, and just gauge where her learning is at. Schools all go at different paces, I don't want her to feel bored or be overwhelmed. I was going to stop by in a couple of days, but this is a little more convenient.”

“Come on Dahyun-ah, we’re here to have fun, we can discuss work some other time.” Chaeyoung lightly punched Dahyun’s arm, a grin on her face.

“Oh hey Chaeng. Yeah, I suppose we can discuss this some other time.” Dahyun laughed. “I’ll come by soon.” Nayeon wanted to ask how Dahyun knew where she lived, but she guessed it was just a small town thing. 

“Dahyun and Chaeyoung were best friends growing up.” Jeongyeon explained. “Dahyun-ah was like another little sister to me, she always followed me around like a little duckling.” Jeongyeon ruffled Dahyun’s hair, a smile on her face. 

“Jeongyeon Unnie.” Dahyun groaned. “You're drunk.” “No I’m not.” “You're not sober.” Dahyun retorted. “Unnie, you didn’t drive here right?” “Always the responsible one. No, we walked.” Jeongyeon laughed. “Chaeng let’s do karaoke!” “Okay!” Nayeon rolled her eyes and had half a mind to take her phone out and take a video. Sober Jeongyeon would never condone this behavior. 

“How are you liking it here so far?” Nayeon was a bit surprised at the question, she was sure her face was not making her look very approachable right now. 

“Oh uh, it’s good.” Nayeon forced her face into a neutral position. If she scowled any longer, she was sure Jeongyeon would tease her about getting frown lines. Plus, she didn’t want to scare off her daughter’s teacher. “Haven’t been here that long though.” “Ah. How’s Hyemi adjusting?” “She went and caught beetles with Seojun for hours today, so I think she’s fine.” Nayeon shrugged, suddenly feeling like she needed a glass of cold water. 

“Ah. That boy does love beetle catching.” Dahyun giggled. “I’m surprised Hyemi wasn’t afraid.” “Oh no, that kid isn’t scared of anything. Whenever I took her to the dentist, they would always be super cautious about giving her procedures but Hyemi was never scared. She liked going to the dentist because it meant she got a toy.” Nayeon had to stop herself from talking about how she got that from Jihyo. Her mood immediately changed at the thought of her ex-wife. She hated that Jihyo still made her feel like she was drowning. “Oh sorry, I just started talking about your kid. It’s  a bad habit of mine to talk about my students.” Dahyun laughed. “You're probably wondering what someone like me is doing here, huh?” “I wasn’t going to come out and ask.” Nayeon shrugged. 

“Well, it’s okay. This is the only place open after eight pm, and I like getting out of the house and reading, so this is where I go.” “I’m surprised you can read with all the noise.” Nayoen glanced towards Jeongyoen and Chaeyoung badly singing karaoke. 

“You learn to drown it out, working with eight and nine year olds does that to you.” Dahyun smiled, putting her water down. “Two please.” 

“Oh I’m-”

“Trust me, you will need it later.” Dahyun insisted, shoving the water in Nayeon’s hand. Nayeon nodded, taking the water and turning to find Jeongyeon and Chaeyoung. They were both smiling as they sang a horrible rendition of Jeongyeon’s favorite song. She hated the envy that filled her. 

When she turned back to Dahyun, she saw that the girl had buried herself in her book. Nayeon sighed to herself, took another sip of water, and went back to Jeongyeon.

xx 

When Nayeon got home, it was nearly one am. She tried to be quiet, but she underestimated how loud the front door would be. “Mm… Nayeon Unnie?” Sana groaned as she sat up. Her hair was messy, and she looked half asleep as she addressed Nayeon. “Hey.” Nayeon sighed. “Kids asleep?” “Mm-hum. Nico stayed up a little late, but Hyemi went to bed super easily.” Sana wiped her eyes as Nayeon took her shoes off.

“That’s good.” Nayeon muttered, trying not to be too loud. Sana held her arms out for Nayeon, who slowly made her way over. She was exhausted, but she would never say no to a hug from her best friend. “How was the bar?” “It was fine.” Nayeon muttered, resting her cheek on Sana’s collarbone. “Your eyes look a little red. Are you okay?” “It was a rough night. But I feel a little bit better.” Sana muttered. “How are you doing?” Nayeon isn’t able to come up with a response as she hugs Sana tighter. Sana doesn’t say anything else, putting a hand on Nayeon’s back.

They both fell asleep on the couch that night, clutching each other tightly. 

Nayeon isn’t able to sleep that night. All she can do is close her eyes and let her thoughts drunkenly swirl around her mind. 

[tenpintsofsundrop]

okay so @star-mum asked me to explain the Gatsby reference in Emergency Contact and okay here we go

(hopefully this can be fairly short and not a two-hour nerd rant lmao)

Here is the passage from my fic:

You smoothed a hand across his shoulder, and raised your head, using your touch to gently tip his face toward yours. He quickly realized that your intention was to kiss him. And something ached in his heart - something painful and longing. He knew that it would not be needy and haste with the intention of pile-driving toward sex like your other kisses had been. He knew that it would be the metamorphosis of your relationship that he was not prepared to go through.  He nuzzled along your forehead, gently stopping you.  “Please don’t do this.” He murmured quietly into your skin.  He knew that it would break him.  He knew that this was the moment - like Gatsby reaching up toward the stars - this would be the moment that he was tied to you forever, damned by his love for you. Only, much different than Gatsby, he wasn’t destined for some grant fate if he didn’t have you. He was on a one way path to a messy death, and he was determined not to take you down with him.  Tears pricked the edges of his eyes at the thought. 

And here is the passage from The Great Gatsby that I was referencing:

He talked a lot about the past and I gathered that he wanted to recover something, some idea of himself perhaps, that had gone into loving Daisy. His life had been confused and disordered since then, but if he could once return to a certain starting place and go over it all slowly, he could find out what that thing was. . . . . . . One autumn night, five years before, they had been walking down the street when the leaves were falling, and they came to a place where there were no trees and the sidewalk was white with moonlight. They stopped here and turned toward each other. Now it was a cool night with that mysterious excitement in it which comes at the two changes of the year. The quiet lights in the houses were humming out into the darkness and there was a stir and bustle among the stars. Out of the corner of his eye Gatsby saw that the blocks of the sidewalk really formed a ladder and mounted to a secret place above the trees—he could climb to it, if he climbed alone, and once there he could suck on the pap of life, gulp down the incomparable milk of wonder. His heart beat faster and faster as Daisy's white face came up to his own. He knew that when he kissed this girl, and forever wed his unutterable visions to her perishable breath, his mind would never romp again like the mind of God. So he waited, listening for a moment longer to the tuning fork that had been struck upon a star. Then he kissed her. At his lips' touch she blossomed for him like a flower and the incarnation was complete.

Now, I nerd out over The Great Gatsby so much. It's one of my favourite books ever. And as someone who is a firm believer in 'true love' - I am obsessed with how much the Great Gatsby gets it wrong, and I love playing off the symbolism and themes displayed in the book - showing how it's not a tragic love story, it is the story of a fucked up, very sexist man who puts all of his faults onto his 'love' for a woman.

So - in the passage featuring Gatsby and Daisy's first kiss - Gatsby is talking to Nick, trying to figure out where the turning point in his life went wrong, where he could go back and start it all over again if he could. And he picked his first kiss with Daisy. And this is especially important because this chapter also features a lot of talk about destiny, and it's where Nick reveal's Gatsby's esteemed mystery backstory that the audience was waiting for - how he was nothing more than a poor man on a fishing boat and he made friends with an older wealthy man and that's why he's so rich. Gatsby made himself very large - he made himself into something out of nothing, and he feels that he wasted all of his potential mourning over his lost love.

Out of the corner of his eye Gatsby saw that the blocks of the sidewalk really formed a ladder and mounted to a secret place above the trees—he could climb to it, if he climbed alone, and once there he could suck on the pap of life, gulp down the incomparable milk of wonder.

This particularly, is really telling about Gatsby's character - he thinks that he has some grand epic fate awaiting him, even if he doesn't specifically know what it is, but he has to choose between that grand fate and Daisy. He has to go it alone. He is a fantastic man and he can't have a woman weighing him down.

He knew that when he kissed this girl, and forever wed his unutterable visions to her perishable breath, his mind would never romp again like the mind of God.

This single sentence is one of my favourite things I have ever read, and the term 'her perishable breath' has informed so much of my writing style - but I fucking love how this is described and how it sets them up as a horrible couple who are never meant to be soulmates. This is not a love story.

He thinks that his mind 'romps like the mind of God' - he thinks that he is this utterly perfect human being, someone who could be an inventor, a leader of the industrial revolution, a brilliant man. And he thinks the one thing truly holding back is his 'love' for Daisy - what later turns into an obsession for her. And it is really all spelled out when he describes her as 'perishable'. She is just a woman. She will never live up to the fantasy he has created of her in his mind. Especially considering the fact that when Gatsby finds out she has a child - he wants her to abandon her child to come and be with him - he clearly finds the idea of her being a mother to ruin his fantasy.

So - if this is such a flawed display of love, why would I reference it?

Because ever since the first time I read this passage, I have been obsessed with this idea - the idea that your first kiss seals your fate to someone - but in a good way. The idea that we are perishable and fragile, but when we become fated to our soulmate, we can both romp like Gods together and climb that ladder to the stars together. Not this flawed version where we ruin in on ourselves over the obsession, getting a fantasy version of a girl that will never exist.

Jason Todd - in a lot of ways, is like Jay Gatsby. He came from nothing, befriended a rich older man - but he does not have the confidence to believe that he has some grand fate waiting for him if he does not have his loved ones.

He thinks that he is poisonous and toxic and he is bound for a horrible fate.

He knew that this was the moment - like Gatsby reaching up toward the stars - this would be the moment that he was tied to you forever, damned by his love for you. Only, much different than Gatsby, he wasn’t destined for some grant fate if he didn’t have you. He was on a one way path to a messy death, and he was determined not to take you down with him. 

Here - he thinks that this kiss will seal y/n's fate in a horrible way rather than sealing his own fate. But - he is wrong, because this love will uplift him, and help them both become better.

So that is why I referenced it <3

[apollo-the-story-teller]

No one wanted this but Xisuma; 32

Real quick for those who don’t know I’m doing a spotify wrapped thing, I mainly know hc and empires (1-2) but can maybe do others. Feel free to ask and honestly you can reask for any prompt or character Song; Fish in a Birdcage by Fish in a birdcage

Xisuma felt trapped within his reality like there was only ever so much he was allowed to do. But in the end he was safe in that box in that cage.

Xisuma woke up blearily, he noticed a compass in his room, a compass telling him to go to it’s location. He went ending up in Grian’s base, all of the other hermits were there chatting waiting for the time to pass. Finally Grian explained what happened, and in the end they jumped through.

Xisuma woke up in a pirate ship, a pirate ship of all things! Cleo was near by and everything. Not long after they both woke up a pirate began yelling at them something about bones and an evil captain. Cleo introduced them and promised he wasn’t evil and the pirate had a change in heart. He asked if they’d like to join his crew, Xisuma doesn’t believe he’s ever said yes so quickly to something. Cleo agreed as well and he tasked them to get a parrot and build a ship.

They set off, making a cute little dingy, got it was small. And searching for a parrot, which ending up being a chicken that really liked them. They called him Reginald fricking Reginald.

Joey the Pirate killed Reginald then asked them to murder a witch. They agreed to try, worse case this also meant they got to meet more people. They end ended up meeting more of the hermits and Shelby the Witch. She  groaned seeing pirates “Did you convince two of the new people to come and murder me?” He had, and they had failed to murder her.

Xisuma didn’t know where his loyalties lied but he wanted to kill someone now. He planned and prepared and the end he had far too many firework rockets in crossbows ready and loaded. Thanks Impulse and mob farm. Cleo asked him if they should even murder Shelby, maybe they should focus their attentions to a fat parrot killing pirate. Xisuma agreed and they elected to meet with Shelby to see how she actually was. They even took off their pirate hats.

Shelby ended up joining them to murder Joey, it was  all  great  fun, he hadn’t  been in his darned little box the entire time here! ~~~~~~Meanwhile on Hermitcraft season 9.

“Has he woken up yet Joe?” Doc asked, “No, I’m monitoring his vitals now though and he’s not in pain, everything in there is working, he’s even having a dream right now.”  Joe responded looking over Xisuma’s vitals. “Joe love switch with me, build up your pin ball machine.” Stress demanded, Joe went to deny her  but she glared at him. Joe got up with a groan kissing Xisuma on his now exposed forehead. He left soon after grabbing his blankets he brought over.

Doc left soon after hoping Xisuma woke up soon, they could work without him sure. But a hermit being out of commission was always sad,

In some far off corner of the world Evil Xisuma giggled to themselves, he not only took Xisuma out of commission but Xisuma was definitely loving it.

[autumnalwalker]

Find the Word Tag

Thank you for the tag, @druidx.

My words to find were decision, device, debt, & depth.

Passing the tag to @kahvilahuhut, @writingpotato07, @writernopal, @cljordan-imperium, and the usual open tag for anyone else.

Your words shall be hour, went, common, & water.

Decision: The Archivist's Journal, Day 97

It seemed like a fun enough time to me, and a good chance to further integrate myself with local customs, so I accepted.  Here’s hoping I’m not regretting my decision an hour in when I’m covered head to toe in black cloth and the temperature is rising with the sun.

Device: The Archivist's Journal, Day 131

Well, levels of enthusiasm about the blackboard were mixed, but overall positive.  A few of the kids were disappointed that it wasn’t something more spectacular, but even in this place people have an appetite for novelty and that goes doubly-so for children.  I gave all of them a turn to try writing out their names on the board and followed up by congratulating them on being the first class in the Village ever to use such a device and went on a bit about how even after those names are erased the traces of those first impressions will still be etched upon the board.  Even if a new layer of paint is applied, those signatures will still be there, unseen underneath.  Today they’ve signed their names into a part of the Village’s history.

Debt: The Archivist's Journal, Day 30

Back on topic, I’m not completely sure what the differences are between a seamstress and a tailor, but either there’s a lot of overlap or this seamstress, Kala I think her name was, was both.  Or at any rate, the measurement taking and garment altering she did were things I personally associate with the word “tailor”.  She was brusque, but ultimately respectful, both with us and her assistants.  The old archivist’s clothes were handed over for alteration, and I was given a date to come pick them up.  There were also some finished pieces hanging up that would normally have been taken out on market day that Lin encouraged me to try on to see if there was anything that fit well enough without needing alteration.  As it happened, there was.  Lin handled the negotiation of payment; a token amount in coin and a promise that this service now would be remembered as an advance on the next time Kala needed to call upon the services of the doctor and/or archivist.  It seems that sort of business agreement and social debt is common around here, especially with occupations like ours that near everyone is expected to need eventually.  

Depth: The Archivist's Journal, Day 31

After a great deal of internal debate in a surprisingly short amount of time I joined her, albeit much more cautious in my immersion.  First just a finger in the water for a couple of minutes to see the effects and verify that they were temporary and not painful, then a foot dangled over the side before slowly lowering myself in as Lin alternated between teasing and cheering me on.  I kept one hand on the boat at first, keenly aware of the depth of the water beneath me and the awkwardness of trying to swim whilst fully clothed, but eventually I let go and swam the short distance over to where Lin was paddling in place.

The water itself was actually quite clear and it became apparent that the lights (other than those on the fish and other animals) were coming up from the lakebed far below.  Clear enough that I was easily able to look down and see my own skin and clothes change color and begin to glow.  Unnerving yes, but at the same time exhilarating in its own right.  I’d taken long enough to get in that Lin’s face and neck had returned to normal from her initial plunge, giving the illusion of a disembodied face floating above the water.  I imagine I looked much the same.  Up until she splashed me anyway.  I returned the favor and we played like that for a while; laughing and splashing until we both looked like creatures of void and starlight and laid floating on backs watching the true stars above us until we realized we were getting tired enough that we needed to get back in the boat and row back to shore.

[ren-shonen]

Returning fire: time to Be Seen friendo

"There's A Lot Going On Actually And It Can Get Messy" is a favorite genre

Likes blue as a motif color (for various symbolic reasons but if I had to pick one, maybe a hint at the ever lingering sense of feeling "blue"/lonely that they just can't shake?)

Very inspired by music, but especially lyrics

Drawn to characters who are "fishes out of water" so to speak, whether they're in a different physical environment from where they grew up, or in a new social circle/status that they're not used to having (shoutout to Rhenbraen for ending up in BOTH types at once)

Also characters who struggle with the balance between maintaining their independence and leaning on others for help/support

Symbolic 👏 Locations 👏 and/or Landmarks 👏👏 (whether for in-game screenshots like FFXIV or fanfic settings for characters to meet up at)

(Much like you did I kinda cheated for some of these since we've talked about favorite themes and motifs before but I can point to your writing entries and go "Right there, Exhibit A")

(Hello! This lovely ask prompted an absolute ramble, but since I intend to reblog this to my FFXIV blog also, I must apologize in advance for not putting this under a readmore)

A Lot Going On: You're SO right. 😅 I do like the layers, and I like peeling them back.

blue: Yes, I sure do end up with a lot of OCs with blue theming, don't I? Also, I had it pointed out once that blue shows up more than once in my BNHA fics, specifically as the color of the sky in the early morning, before sunrise. I promptly went "y'know.... huh" because I associate that time of day with having been up all night and, yeah, with a certain deep loneliness or sometimes solitude (perhaps funnily, my motif color for myself is red!)

lyrics: very yes. Especially lyrics. Almost all of my BNHA fics and FFXIV writings have a song associated with them, and several of the fics have lyric titles (as is tradition XD)

fish out of water: You're on to something here for sure, because this is true of very many of my FFXIV characters!

I suspect this may stem primarily from my enjoyment of Putting Characters in Situations that they then have to deal with, and being far from home and the familiar is a great way to do that. FFXIV's setting also makes it easy (practically necessary) to do this with any character whose lore origins place them outside of Eorzea, since they'd have to have a reason to travel there. As a result, I often employ it as a plot device to "shake things up" — like the most minor version of the isekai trope, perhaps. So I'd say it's less "drawn to" and more "tend to deliberately engineer," lol!

It may amuse you to know that Rhenbraen actually was very firmly embedded in their home environment for a BIG initial chunk of their story, and trying to figure out how to maneuver things so they would leave it was a major undertaking. (They were so stuck. SO stuck.)

...arguably, "being forced out of one's home environment" in my writing is usually a spur toward growth and positive change, even if it comes with significant growing pains.

Relatedly, I do have a personal theme of "you can't go home again" that shows up for almost all of my OCs, even the ones who have literally returned to their home environments.

I'm not sure if this also shows up in my BNHA stuff. I think there, it's more general sense of the world changing around the characters, and changing the characters, too? of time continuing and bringing with it new circumstances and situations, some of which are painful? Like Izuku having to confront being touch-starved for the first time when he moved into the dorms ("Distance and Weight"), which is a not-uncommon teenage/young adult experience. Now that I think about it, that's a good example of the second type you talked about (different social circumstance).

independence/support: oooh that's a fun one to ponder. (I wonder if I have any characters who lean toward the be-supported side? Maybe Renan? Zedyr?) Definitely shows up as a prominent theme in my BNHA stuff, though, at least on the "trouble asking for help" side. *cough*Izuku*cough*

landmarks: ooh interesting one. You know, this one actually is a bit personal/about me as the writer, even if I'm not totally sure it reaches beyond Rhenbraen's symbolic attachment to the Lominsan lighthouse (have to think about that one! but it feels right....) I'll message you to tell you more about the specifics. :D

[tricoloredillusion]

More headcanons compilation:

Headcanon of Neo’s Semblance going off when she’s having nightmares and she just, manifests horrors around the room related to it, subconsciously

Her sleep paralysis demons are more real than you think, but they break as soon as she’s fully awake

Still creepy af to watch as an outsider

---

Thinking again about how my poor girl ended with a great pain in her throat because of the forced talking of the CC’s possession. The mix of possession magic to do so but while in a mute host like Neo, well, damaged her vocal cords even more for the moment.

She recovered from it after getting to the tree, but I don’t doubt the further inflammation or even infection/bleeding of defective vocal cords wasn’t exactly a nice experience.

It definitely added to the horrifying feeling of the possession. But that was the point, having an experience like that isn’t to be taken lightly, specially when it definitely felt like a mockery of who Neo was as a person.

---

Getting deeper into my Neo’s stay in the Ever After post V9-

So after deciding to keep being herself, with consequences and all, I’ve already mentioned how her intention was actually to help a little around the place, mainly because she thought it would help her find a purpose to go back to Remnant, or maybe one to stay there forever, thing is, with the changes of her body and behavior, the month she was around was probably more hellish for her than to anyone else.

Her /DIET/, while staying there she fed herself with fruits, cheese, and I want to imagine strange fish that she could either get from the beach or rivers around the Ever After. But because she now had the urges of a predator from time to time, the EFFORT she had to make to not eat any of the adorable and rational animal companions from the place was almost painful.

She installed her main spot in the Cake Acre. She may or may have not consumed a lot of sugary stuff there to keep her mind busy and get sugar high.

Her reputation as the Mad Hatter completely came from the fact that at times, in moments in which she wanted to eat some of the Afterans, she isolated herself in the Cake Acre for a closed tea party. One in which she was surrounded by illusions rather than real creatures. Playing pretend until the sensation of hunger for flesh went away.

There was no real Jabberwalker anymore because Neo killed it, but at least the Reassuring Rabbit helped with fixing the hearts of the Afterans a little, and in part it included Neo herself when going through a very bad episode.

The illusory characters that accompanied her delusions were, of course, based on the Alice in Wonderland characters. Other versions of them, anyway. Her own dormouse, the March Hare…and Alyx.

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The things she gained from the post-possession are:

Heightened senses (smell, hearing…).

The white slit pupils. She can now see in the dark.

Sharp teeth. To tear apart prey.

Nails that grow like sharp nails (in both, hands and feet). Also to help with hurting.

Feral cat behaviour/urges of a predatory animal at times.

Heat cycles. A few days before her period, she gets one.

What’s only part of a trauma response of her Semblance:

Cat ears and a tail. When the CC possessed her, they made ears and a tail appear on the body, so subconsciously, she feels uncomfortable without them -ironically enough- because at the same time, the whole cat thing makes her disgusted with herself.

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The fact I didn’t directly mention yet (around here) how my Neo has problems with wanting to eat ‘dead prey’ thanks to the feral side of her half-beast condition now.

Including other people.

She isn’t exactly too proud of it, but it has happened- :’)

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When I mentioned the cannibalism headcanon, I avoided adding that Neo would go as far as to eat organ and bone like feral cats do, but now you gotta live with the burden of knowing as well.

And yes, her body changed enough to be able to consume raw flesh and stuff.

The only thing is that she’s small enough to never be able to eat her prey whole if it ends up being a person, pretty much.

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It’s still funny whenever I refer to my Neo design as ‘my version of ascended Neo’ when, yes, she did have a talk with the tree and became wood, but technically she didn’t ascend, otherwise she would’ve lost all her memories.

NOW, the fact she chose herself very much like Ruby speaks by itself. My Neo would rather keep the memories of her life (specially because, how cruel would it be to FOREVER forget about Roman himself?) than lose them.

She would rather endure the trauma and the changes in her body to not forget Roman and her life experiences, even if she has to work through her struggles again. Like, there’s part of her screaming that she’s strong enough.

+

My Neo didn’t have a graceful fall into the tree at the end to ‘ascend’, she actually sat on the edge of the area after bowing to team RWBY and Jaune, unsheathed Hush, and cut her neck with the blade.

Letting her own weight to fall down into the tree afterwards, and finally 'ascending’.

Edit: it left a scar on her neck.

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Depressing headcanon time for my Neo! So, beware. Mention of suicidal tendencies ahead.

Because I didn’t write this one down until now but, we already know that my Neo went through one of the biggest breakdowns after the fall of Beacon- Roman’s death and the shocking sight of his remains affected her REALLY bad, to the point her Semblance started going off to torment her with the images of her parents and Roman.

At that point in time the illusions couldn’t speak out loud, but Neo’s mind did enough with tormenting her with inner thoughts and the inner voices of the people she projected.

That being, Carmel, Jimmy and Roman. Not only was she extremely broken, but she also felt some guilt at first about not being there to protect Roman.

So, well, she fell into a depressive episode for some time. After 2 or 3 days of the fall of Beacon, she didn’t outright think of going to find Cinder at Mistral- she had to work through her mood at first, and at some point of the day, she was so emotionally exhausted, that she had a small incident in which she almost let the illusions to actually kill her.

Jimmy and Carmel holding her in place, and Roman choking her to death.

It was a subconscious wish of wanting to end with her life, but, of course, because there was still a part of her that wanted to live, the same way her subconscious gave her these living nightmares, it took them away, so before it could get too severe, she made the illusions disappear.

It was a very harsh week? Month? It really took her a while to recompose herself and turn her depression into wrath and thus, get into the path for revenge.