#and isn't around anymore

[mannequinjoints]

thinking about how the concept of an 'original alter' in a system is silly and unhelpful...

[royalarchivist]

[A sad violin song plays over an image of a sad hamster]

Pac: This doesn't have anything to do with me – I wear a blue sweatshirt, you're crazy, this mouse doesn't even have a sweatshirt, this hamster! [Reading chat] Am I a depressed hamster?

[ Transcript continued ↓ ]*

–

Pac: Actually– that's fine! I embrace that idea – of course I'm going to be depressed, are you crazy? [He hits his desk, then starts counting off people on his fingers] Fit is gone, Richarlyson is gone, Ramon is gone, Bagi and Empanada who were always there when we were there are also gone, I haven't seen them! It's just me and Tubbo, and sometimes Philza shows up.

Pac: I lost Chume Labs, I lost the Favela, I lost Murder Mystery, I lost Ilha Chume Labs, it's crazy! Look at how much I've lost, and I've gained nothing! Of course I'm going to be depressed, are you crazy?! How am I supposed to be happy?!

Pac: [Reading chat] "You have us Pac," that's true, thank you. No, that's true, sorry.

* NOTE: Please note that this is an incomplete transcript, as I was primarily relying on Aypierre's translation mod at the time and if I am not confident of the translation, I do not include it. As always, please feel free to add on translations or message me corrections.

[zishuge]

The Spirealm 致命游戏 (2024) | Ep. 12

[yuesya]

Aventurine tilts the wineglass in his hands. A careless, indolent gesture. Light catches onto the glass rim at this angle, bright and sharp.

Rapid footsteps sound outside the doorway, indicative of a brisk run. Then it ceases, followed by a perfunctory knock, and then the door swings open–

“My sincerest apologies for the wait, sir.” The man who enters the room is well-dressed, with oiled hair slicked back neatly upon his head. There’s a deeply fake smile stretched wide over his lips –or at least, the joy within the expression is feigned, but the greed is real. “It is a great honor to receive a guest such as yourself to our humble establishment.”

Aventurine answers with his own friendly smile. One that is equally fake as the one that he’s presented with, although less overtly so.

“A pleasure to make your acquaintance,” he says, lifting the wineglass raised between his fingers just slightly so. He does not rise from his seat to greet the other man.

“Please, the pleasure is all mine.” The man’s smile twitches, but he visibly reins himself in and refrains from expressing any sign of discontent at the treatment. “If any of the arrangements or other services during your wait are lacking to your tastes, I must deeply apologize again. We were not expecting to receive such distinguished personnel from the IPC.”

“Oh, think nothing of it,” Aventurine responds casually.

The man licks his lips. “… If I may ask, honored guest… what is it among the wares of this lowly auction house that has caught the IPC’s attention?”

Impatient, and greedy. Hmm. 

In that case… 

“Ah, that.” Aventurine pauses, noting the unconscious manner in which the man’s fingers rub together, the unblinking attention that hangs on to his every word. “It seems that I must disappoint you, then. Aventurine is not present on behalf of the IPC.”

The man’s expression falls swiftly, his disappointment a dark storm. “That, that’s…”

Aventurine ignores the stuttering.

“I’m merely here to kill some time,” he laughs, “Don’t think too much about it. Unless, do you really think that you’re in possession of something that the IPC would be interested in? I’m not averse to assessing the product and perhaps making a deal, if that’s really the case.”

Red colors the man’s face, but to his credit, he does not lose his composure. “… Surely you jest, sir. If we knowingly possessed something of that value, then we would’ve left this planet for greener pastures a long time ago.”

“Oh? So I suppose your auction house holds nothing of interest, then?” Aventurine arches an eyebrow.

The man grits his teeth. “… Nothing that would be of any worth to the IPC, perhaps. But you seem like a man who is appreciative of the finer things in life, and… and, our auction house is renowned in these parts for luxury items. I am quite certain that there will be something in our catalogue that will suit your tastes!”

Ha.

A small-time auction house like this… if someone like one of the Ten Stonehearts of the IPC were in attendance to one of their auctions, it would be a massive boost to their reputation, and open many doors for him. Hence the man’s initial delight in Aventurine’s arrival. His hope plummeted upon hearing that the IPC was uninvolved, however. And now that Aventurine himself made it clear that he was only here on a whim, and fast losing interest…

The auction owner was desperate to entice him into staying.

For a small planet like this, there was quite a broad range of selections that the man was presenting before him. Exotic delicacies, uncanny knickknacks, rare materials…

“–a-and we have new additions to the choice of personal servants, as well!” Sweat beads upon the man’s brow at Aventurine’s continued disinterest. “There’s an albino Foxian, very sweet and obedient, although she’s quite young. I-if young children aren’t to your liking, then there are also other options! We have a lovely young lady with very pretty eyes, almost like gemstones–”

There it is.

… The entire reason why Aventurine is even bothered to be in a place like this at all.

“Pretty eyes?” Aventure stretches and yawns exaggeratedly, finally cutting off the man’s tirade. “Even prettier than mine?”

The man freezes. Triumph blatantly flashes across his expression, before he swiftly ducks his head.

“A slightly different kind of beauty, if I might offer my humble opinion,” he says. “She’s a recent acquisition, from one of the war-ravaged worlds –a lucky find; our suppliers there usually bring in malnourished children, but that’s been growing steadily more difficult, ever since that singer from The Family traveled there in person and started interfering.”

Frustration. The man sucks in a deep breath.

“But this time, they found a lovely little bird,” he continues smugly. “One with silvery hair, and gorgeous blue eyes that gleam like jewels when they catch the light just right.”

“Like jewels, you say?”

“Quite so.” The man lifts his gaze to carefully study his reactions. Aventurine’s smile does not waver under the unsubtle scrutiny. “Ordinarily, the goods of our auction are not to be displayed before the auction begins, but… for an honored guest such as yourself, exceptions can definitely be made.”

‘Goods,’ he says. Slavery.

Aventurine remembers the pain of the brand being burned into his neck, of the days when he’d been bought and as considered nothing but merchandise–

The Avgins of Sigonia are dead.

… Aventurine knows this.

And yet, there is still a part of him that cannot help but… pay attention to trivial, useless things, even when the chance of any survivors aside from himself is bleak.

An auction selling a young, pretty girl with beautiful eyes, found from one of the neighboring planets beside Sigonia-IV?

Even if it’s a long shot, Aventurine still…

…

“Since she’s such a new acquisition, there hasn’t been time to train her properly yet. But, fear not! I am sure that she will–”

The man breaks off with a startled yelp as the entire building suddenly shakes.

Briefly, there is silence.

And then–

The screaming starts.

Pain. Terror.

Aventurine ignores the panicked, incoherent blubbering next to him, and promptly rises to his feet.

[sleepyorchidmonster]

What if king Henrik managed to steal Malleus's egg after defeating Meleanor?

The main point is that the egg WOULDN'T hatch because it needs love (and even in canon it took a couple of centuries to hatch, despite the presence of Lillia and Maleficia).

So after a few tries, he discards his plans and keeps the egg as a trophy. Years pass and a five year-old Silver finds the trophy room while playing. He stumbles into the pedestal holding the egg, but manages to save it before it falls.

The child then senses a tiny heartbeat, and realizes there is a baby inside the egg!

The egg hatches immediately. Baby Silver loved it at once (the way he did once upon a dream).

And that's how we get a Dragon Prince journey (sorta).

After the dragon hatched, Silver went to talk with his animal friends to see if they could help (he loves his parents, but he couldn't just tell them he went to the trophy room to play, some instinct of his was also telling him they couldn't be trusted).

He left the little dragon under the care of a mother bear and went to the library to see if he could find anything. He came across a few old books from before the Silver Owls that described the Draconias (the little prince was so excited! His dragon friend could become a friend friend! He didn't have any friends besides the animals! And the dragon was even a fellow prince!)

But first things first! His dragon friend needed to meet his actual family, they were probably worried sick! So he grabbed a few maps, marked out the closest fae castle, told his parents he would go play with the animals in the woods and left.

The trek was very long and dangerous, but the entire forest was on his side. Baby Silver kept talking to Malleus, explaining life as a prince, introducing his animal friends, and trying to find out if he liked to eat berries.

They avoided war-stricken areas and managed to reach fae territory. And that's when things took a turn for the worse.

Henrik and the Silver Owls found them. Apparently, the egg was missing and a search party was assembled to follow its magical traces. Baby Silver didn't know that, and went to greet his uncle, saying that he was helping out a friend find his family!!

Henrik looked at his nephew, then at the dragon, and went for the kill, literally. The kid couldn't even defend himself, as his uncle cut him down with a simple strike (dawn knight was at home).

And that's when baby Malleus's magic blew up.

A snowstorm of cataclysmic proportions struck, complete with fire tornados and lightning. At the center of it all stood two children, the tiny Silver that was bleeding out, and Malleus, who had taken a human form and was trying to close the wound (he changed forms because he was scared and emulated the only thing he could think of as strong and protection, and that thing was five year-old Silver). Meanwhile, all of the animals formed a protective circle around them.

Luckily, reinforcements soon arrived. Both Lillia and Maleficia came (that storm could only be a Draconia's doing, they would NOT lose the egg again). They made quick work of the rest of the Silver Owls before rushing to Malleus's aid.

The animals let the faes though, as if they knew the dragon had finally found his kin. But Malleus wouldn't let go of Silver, even when the kid started telling him "Look, we found your family!! You're safe!", smiling despite the pain and looming death.

With the use of "Far Cry Cradle", Lillia quickly explained the situation, and the faes made the decision to save the human. They had a much too big debt with this child, who was so innocent it hurt.

They were also keeping the human. If that despicable man was his UNCLE, then no way in hell were the rulers of Briar Valley going to give the child back to his family. It would be a disgrace to the Draconia family.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Now, there a a few ways this AU could go.

1. The faes weren't able to save Silver. They create a monument in his honor and he becomes the only human they respect. Relations with the Silver Owls may improve now that Henrik is dead, if they can convince Dawn Knight his son died to save Malleus.

2. The faes save Silver, who lives in Briar Valley until the end of his mortal lifespan, acting as Malleus's big brother and knight. The Silver Owls are angry, but eventually come to an agreement once they realize there was no mind control involved.

3. The faes manage to save Silver, but the wounds were so grave that he had to stay in magic stasis for a few hundred years. Receiving the BOTW Shrine of Ressurection treatment. Due to the nature of the magic, he lost his memories, got silver hair and became sleepy. He later wakes up and becomes the Silver we all know and love. Malleus still sees him as the older brother, but thinks that now it's his turn to protect the human!

[set-wingedwarrior]

Jaune is the Rusted Knight:

Jaune is the Rusted Knight but is OLDER because time is fucked up:

[yuanology]

Hey, i love your writing! Could you please write for

M!reader, a seemingly innocent guy, though appearances can be deceiving. Then there's Geto, who initially dropped subtle hints about having feelings for Reader. But frustration mounts as Geto's attempts go unnoticed, with Reader simply viewing their interactions as friendly. Eventually, Geto's patience wears thin, especially since Gojo and reader have been getting along well. As jealousy and frustration brew within Geto, he unknowingly directs it at reader through snarky and bratty comments. Reader, though patient, can only take so much. They finally snap, (Geto is surprised because reader is always so soft spoken and sweet) giving Geto a piece of their mind and putting him in his place.

Can i please be 👁️ anon?

welcome 👁️ anon! i forgot to actually write smut in this! so have a really long build-up and hopefully a part two in the future, holy shit. i am so sorry. (suguru's characterisation is also a bit weird here . i can't put a finger on it but my brain is not clicking rn. i am so sorry, 👁️ anon. i'll do better next time. please forgive me for this failure just this once.)

geto suguru was not an impatient man but you were an entirely different matter. you always had been.

there was something about you that drove your existence apart from all of the others— a steadiness in your presence, a constance in your friendship with him. you kept him grounded, an anchor and a light in the darkness that came with being a jujutsu sorcerer. had it not been for you, suguru thought he might have gone rogue so many times ago in the past.

"suguru."

ah, speak of the angel (yes, he knew that wasn't how the saying went, but you weren't the devil. how could you be, with your smile and your careful hands? you were an angel, sent from above to keep him from drowning), you slid into the seat next to him. as usual, you smiled at him, the corners of your eyes crinkling as you did, before you dug into your meal.

suguru let his gaze linger on you for a few short seconds before he turned his face to eat his meal, too.

lunch was a contented affair, filled with small talk and the occasional sound of your laughter. there was something domestic, suguru would like to think, about the way you stole his chicken and he snatched your meatballs in compensation. suguru could hardly think of a time he had ever been this comfortable with anyone but you. you had him lowering his guards without ever having to ask him at all, an inane talent he doubted you even noticed. but it was there, and you were a miracle worker that never failed to hold him through his worst and his best.

so, really, it shouldn't come as a surprise that suguru would have to share you with others, too.

specifically, one fucking annoying gojo satoru.

don't misunderstand him, he loved satoru. satoru was his best friend, his one and only, his steady companion. they had been through hell and back together, shoving each other to further heights and hauling one another out of the deepest pits. he cared for satoru, loved him in every way a man could love his best friend. suguru loved his friend.

but jesus christ, could satoru get on his nerves sometimes.

because the thing is. the thing is that satoru knew—he knew the way suguru looked at you, he knew the way suguru spoke about you, he knew the way suguru's heart beat and ached for you. satoru knew all about the depths of his affections for you, every single beautiful and ugly thing, because that was what you do with your best friend, right? you trust them.

backstabber, suguru thought bitterly, shoving a now-acrid tasting meatball into his mouth.

because there satoru was, his arms thrown around you in ways that suguru could never touch you, his jokes making you laugh in a way that left suguru feeling ripped between wanting to watch your smile and punch satoru in the face hard enough that he'd be bleeding for days for stealing that sight from you and leaving suguru nothing but the left-overs to pick after.

in spite of everything, suguru was hardly ever really envious of his best friend. yes, there were moments where he wished satoru would get off his high-horse and someone would knock some sense into him (and that responsibility, more often than not, fell on suguru's shoulders), but he was never really jealous of satoru. there was never a need for it, not when he knew the worst and the lows of being gojo satoru.

however, in that moment, watching satoru cling onto you and make you grin, suguru understood what it meant to truly be seething with jealousy. that should be me.

the rest of the day passed by in a hazy blur after that. suguru vaguely recollected leaving lunch early, reciting robotically that he had somewhere to be urgently and ignoring the knowing grin satoru shot his way or the downwards curl of your lips. he thought he might have given you the cold shoulder at some point or another, the words leaving his lips a little sharp and a little cruel, but he didn’t remember what he said. you might have recoiled, you might have not. suguru couldn’t remember.

(and he didn’t want to remember— he didn’t want to remember the way he had turned his face away when he heard the sound of your voice calling out his name. he didn’t want to remember the way his shoulders had knocked against yours a little too hard as you passed each other by in the hallways. he didn’t want to remember the way your face dropped when he took a seat on a table across the room from your usual one. he didn’t want to remember because if he did, then he would have to remember all the tiny ways he hurt you. papercuts still stung like a bitch, after all.)

then, one day became another, and another became a week, and a week became a month—

and the end of the month brought you.

a beautiful, brilliant, furious apparition of you—one that stormed up to him and, without warning or another word, grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and hauled him bodily after you. his feet dragged against the floor, his toes catching onto the heels of his own choes before he could struggle to right himself.

“what are you—” he began.

“shut up,” you interrupted him.

cleverly, suguru did.

he didn’t say a damn thing even as you slammed the door to your dormroom open, shoving him inside without another word. his lips parted in confusion when you began to lock the door behind you, but he still said nothing as you grabbed him by the wrist to direct him further into your room. he didn’t say a single word until you shoved him onto your bed, his back flat on the mattress.

“what?” he tried again.

“you’ll shut up and listen to me when i talk,” you said, your voice leaving no room for arguments. suddenly, you were looming over him, straddling his waist as your open palm pressed over his chest; right above his pounding heart. “do you understand?”

suguru swallowed thickly as he nodded. this was a side of you he hadn’t even known existed; rough and unafraid, your hands on him meant to firmly rule rather than to guide gently as you usually would. even in your anger, you had never been anything else but firm—steady and stubborn.

fuck, he thought wisely to himself. i'm in deep trouble.

but when your hand found the collar of his shirt, your fingers curling around the fabric of his shirt, he finds that he didn't mind it. not in the slightest.

because you had always been beautiful, but you were damningly ephemereal now, peering down at him with something burning carved into your irises; bold and brilliant, striking and inescapable. suguru had never felt so wonderfully trapped before, caught in your stare and unable to look away.

"satoru told me everything," you began, your assessing gaze never once leaving him. "i'm disappointed, suguru."

static clogged his head immediately, all thoughts clearing from his head into an unbearable haze. dirty little traitor. his throat felt tight, his heart stopping in his chest. excuses climbed up the back of his mouth, tasting like bile and the curses that he swallows, and every single little ugly thing that had ever crossed his mind. explanations defining his inner-most thoughts, apologies creasing into the space between his teeth. nothing came out, nothing but a strangled sound; caught between a whimper and a whine. weak, pathetic.

your head tilted at the noise, your gaze sharpening into something vicious. "you should have told me yourself," you said. "i never took you for a coward, suguru."

suguru couldn't help the weak, strangled thing that escaped his throat. he thought that it might have been a piece of his heart. "i'm sorry," he whispered, before he could think better of it.

the sigh that you let out was low, almost vicious in its nature. suguru hid his wince by turning his head, the side of his face half-buried into the sheets. before he could succeed, however, your hand caught his chin, forcing him to turn his gaze to meet your eyes once again.

"look at me when i'm talking to you, suguru." your voice sent a series of goosebumps rippling up his skin. he shuddered, trying to shake it off, but he couldn't when your grip on his face was firm. he still tried to nod a bit, wanting to appease you.

"i'm sorry," suguru rasped out once again.

"stop apologising."

all of a sudden, his forehead was flicked. the motion was so familiar in the face of such an unfamiliar circumstance that suguru couldn't help but blink, startled. for a moment, suguru couldn't think, couldn't do anything—much less suppress the faint smile that appeared on his lips. perhaps not much had changed after all. perhaps you could still have him as your friend, still care for him the way you cared for him before.

"so," he started slowly, "you're not angry at me?"

"i'm pissed at you," you told him bluntly.

before he could wilt, though, your grip on his chin became a gentle caress to his jaw, and suguru felt his whole world tilting upside down once again. your face was close to his, too close, and suguru felt like he couldn't breathe at the proximity.

"i am so, so angry at you, suguru. you should have told me everything sooner. i can't believe you made me wait so long just for this. all your attitude as of late, all your snark and sass, that was just a defence mechanism, wasn't it?" your voice was cutting as you picked apart his brain, dissecting all of his secret truths with all the precision of a surgeon's knife. "you got jealous—and instead of talking to me, you decided to push me away."

your voice was a low murmur, not meant to be anything seductive but still sending a sharp thrill up to suguru's monkey brain all the same. all he could think of was the curl of your smile—secretive, knowing, like you were in on some secret joke that he wasn't—and the way you were looking at him now—like a predator who had his hunt cornered—and how suguru couldn't do anything but take anything that you doled out.

fuck, that's so hot.

"i'm sorry," he said again, dutiful and polite.

and for a moment, simply a nanosecond, he caught a fissure in your exterior; that softness bleeding out for a moment before the cracks smoothened itself out. even so, that split-second was enough for suguru to realise oh. he's not actually angry at me. because all of this, he knew now, was part of the game that you were playing with him; a theatrical dramatic act to compensate for the weeks of silence you got from his end.

your head tilted slowly, dangerously, as if you're assessing him, and the newfound knowledge that you like were made a shiver run down his spine. because you wanted this, you wanted him too, even if you haven't said those words out loud. you craved him, and that single piece of knowledge was enough for suguru to feel like he was going to break himself apart and meld himself together until he fit all and every single one of your wishes; until he became perfect just for you.

suguru's smile was small, placating in the way he knew you hated it. "forgive me?" he asked, practically simpering.

you caught onto what he was trying to do—of course, you did, you always did—and you threw your head back in a sharp laugh. "i don't know, suguru." your smile was mean, dangerous, and suguru almost fainted on the spot. fuck. "do you think you deserve my forgiveness?"

all of suguru's bravado melted in that moment as he felt like a miserably delighted pile of limbs and bones and a beating heart that thumped and echoed and lived just for youyouyou. "no," he said, his voice coarse, rough with his own admission. his hand moved to rest on your knees, not reaching higher because he knew better than to touch you more at a time like this. he didn't deserve it yet. "but let me show you." let me deserve the taste of you, let me deserve to feel what it means to worship you.

your lips curled into a smirk, and suguru felt as if he was going to die right then and there. miraculously, he managed to stay alive just long enough to watch you crawl off of him, standing by the edge of the bed, your gaze still following him like you were going to eat him alive.

"hands and knees, suguru," you said. "you better earn it."

geto suguru was not an impatient man but in order to satisfy you, no time in the world was ever enough.

[silverpsychedelic]

Some various Cades, a Queenie and an unnamed Dreepy

[plumbogs]

LIKE to take him to the park to look for bugs REBLOG to let him tell you about the cool bugs he finds

[kaseyskat]

since ive already been pretty open about this and im not afraid to whack a hornets nest i'll go ahead and say it: if you were raising a kid in a pseudo-apocalyptic setting and then you found out that said kid was going to be the one to defeat the eldritch god that you have tried to defeat for half your lifetime and could never manage. that she was going to FACE that eldritch god it was prophesied. you would teach her how to defend herself and how to fight. like god i am not saying hero's trauma from it wasn't justified because i do think the twins took it too far but the initial process of training her makes so much more sense if you approach it at the angle of "this kid is going to do something we've been trying to do since we were twelve and couldn't manage and we might not even be there to help her so we have to make sure she doesn't die in the process" and not "we're going to make her fix our mistakes" it makes sense. goes along with lark's running theme of not being strong enough in the moments that matter and wanting to make sure nobody else ever feels as helpless as he did when walter was injured. goes along with sparrow desperately tempting fate with normal's name- not because normal was an accident, but because sparrow never wanted to lose even one kid to the doodler and it was a fervent, desperate wish to let normal get to be normal

[bumblingbabooshka]

There's a lot of Voy Crew & DS9 Crew crossovers for good reason but what about Voy Crew meets the TNG Crew so they can confuse and alarm them at every turn? Most Normal Crew Ever vs Most Fucked Up Weirdos Ever - let's go!

[rcmclachlan]

what if i put my life in your hands? what if i took your life in mine?

[abrahamvanhelsings]

"why is van helsing always presented as the vampire hunter" oh im sorry originally being the only person with the knowledge to kill them and having the guts to put himself in mortal danger by 1) standing outside a vampire's tomb in the night while there's another vampire hunting in the same city and 2) travelling with a woman who is slowly turning into a vampire and starts to view him like prey and persevering despite his fears to see the hunt through to the end does not qualify suddenly

[greenapplebling]

I am once again asking people to stop assigning family roles to found family. It beats the point of having a found family in the first place

Also: "this character is a mom friend" ≠ "this character is the mom of the group"

One implies the friend is naturally caring, nurturing and thoughtful. While the other implies there's an assigned person in the group who gets emotionally burdened by people of their same age range to act like their mom

[lab-gr0wn-lambs]

oh good GOD I'm an idiot, it took me til just now to realize why Daryl switched up so fast and immediately had such a soft spot for Carol and looked for Sophia so thoroughly. My dude WAS Sophia. He had an abusive dad and spent half his childhood alone in the woods. This show spelled it out and held my hand and I still didn't put 2 and 2 together

[darkshrimpemotions]

The thing is...it's Izzy's perceived desertion that unhinges him. Stede, his new love, leaving breaks him. But Izzy, his oldest love and oldest friend, being done with him is the final straw. In Ed's mind, Stede saw him without his armor and ran. In Ed's mind, he's unlovable and so he acts unlovable.

But Izzy's there through it all, trying to clean up his messes and mitigate his damage and hold everything together and be the calm to his storm without ever addressing why the storm rages to begin with. And Ed rages against it. He doesn't deserve to be loved, in his mind. He wants it and doesn't.

He dismisses Izzy's love not as a rejection but as a negation (though Izzy absolutely hears it as a rejection, continuing the miscommunications of last season). He doesn't believe it because he doesn't think he's lovable. He sees what Izzy feels for him as an obligation, the way you dismiss your parents telling you you're beautiful or smart. "You helped create me, you have to think that." What Izzy loves (Ed thinks) isn't real, but it's what he wanted, so it's what he'll get.

In Ed's mind, he finally became too much even for Izzy, the one who'd seen him at his worst. He got worse even than that, and Izzy had enough.

I keep thinking about how Ed only confesses his love when he thinks Izzy can no longer hear it. How that's when he goes to the helm and decides to steer them into a storm and set the ship ablaze. How genuinely glad Ed looked to see Izzy was alive, even through the mania and the rage.

Stede leaving broke him. And losing Izzy, even though it was his own fault (because it was his own fault) is what makes Ed truly not want to live anymore.