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#also also! comparing Dream to a knife is something i read in another fic a while ago
valeriianz · 2 years
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are you still doing yearning prompts? can you please do "every time you smile i memorize it...." from the list?
what you're about to read doesn't go with this prompt... yet! have a snippet of what's going to be a long Photographer!Hob and Model!Dream au. it's completely outlined so hopefully i'll have it out within a week, but for now, have a little backstory on how they met:
Morpheus had tumbled into his life almost literally. He appeared at the bar Hob worked at, collapsing into a stool and ordering a gin and tonic without so much as a “how are you?” and Hob hadn’t paid much attention to him, at first. They certainly didn’t speak, except for the mundane, “can I get you another?” and a heavy nod from the shadow at the end of the bar.
Morpheus was like a shadow, back then. A wallflower clad in midnight black, all the way to his ruffled head of hair. His skin was milk white with a jawline that could cut. Hob found himself sneaking constant glances at him, finding something new every time. The way he sat, stiff and proper, like he didn’t know how to slouch. The way his fingers wrapped around the short glass, skeletal, but also soft, careful, like what he held in his hand was a precious thing. His face, however, contrasted his demeanor. It gave everything away, his eyes puffy and red, like he’d been crying. Maybe he had been, people who came to a bar alone usually shared in some sob story, though it was interesting that Morpheus hadn’t spoken yet, choosing instead to silently numb himself with gin. 
He was pretty, Hob had thought, in the way a knife was pretty. Cold hard steel, sharp, heavy, lethal. But something that could also get dull and worn down with time. Hob had been curious, had wondered what could dull this man’s edge– a man who affected this tone of grace and confidence, when surely he must’ve known how his eyes betrayed him.
Hob spoke to him as he set down his third drink. He doesn’t remember the details of that first conversation, but Hob does recall easing into it, like walking up to a stray cat. It was clear Morpheus wasn’t interested in discussing why he was alone and upset that night. So Hob instead broke the ice to ramble about the latest book he read, what classes he was taking, the weather, allowing each topic to prompt Morpheus to respond, slowly opening him up until that ramrod straight back finally began to loosen, bending forward. Soon enough the man had his elbows on the bar top, giving Hob his full, undivided attention.
Hob supposes he should remember more, given the crater Morpheus left in his life. But it had been a busy night, the bar was dark and loud, and if what had happened an hour later hadn’t come to pass, Hob most likely would have brushed off the interesting man in the corner as just another customer. 
As it happened, Morpheus had gotten drunk, was giving out his smile a little more freely, and was glaring daggers at another drunken fellow a few seats down who had been incessantly flirting with Hob.
Hob had a plan with the drunken lech, he always did with unwanted attention from patrons. He played along with the nicer compliments, bit his tongue at the lewder ones, and finally set the man’s check down once he’d said something vulgar about where Hob’s “pretty lips” could be used for. He’d of course said he wasn’t done and after Hob insisted yes, he was, the man had the gall to grab Hob’s arm and pull.
Now, Hob could defend himself, was no amateur in a brawl, and was about to use his free hand to grab the back of the guy's head and smack his face into the bar, when suddenly it had been done for him.
His stranger at the end of the bar was there in a flash, pulling the man’s head back up by the hair and shoving him hard enough to make him tumble backwards and off the stool. Hob took a baffled moment to simply gawk, watching with wide eyes as the man landed on the floor in a crumpled heap before Morpheus grabbed him by the collar to hoist him up again with a strength that probably surprised everyone who was now watching.
In the time it took to give the guy a right hook, causing everyone to emit a chorus of “ooh!” after the sickening sound of bone connecting with bone, Hob remembered he should break this up. He met his manager on the floor and grabbed Morpheus around the shoulders, turning him violently away at the same time his boss had the other man in a choke-hold. Morpheus had his hands up in surrender as Hob forcibly pulled him through the dining room and out the door.
Normally Hob took a great deal of pleasure kicking rowdy customers out, tossing them onto the sidewalk like a bag of trash, but as he pitched the man in his arms out into the cool night air, he knew he’d been smiling for a whole different reason. He shouldn’t find the drunken fight to be amusing, but rationality wasn’t Hob’s strong suit, back then.
Morpheus had stumbled, nearly getting tangled in his long legs, before swinging his head to regard Hob.
Hob had expected some kind of tantrum, a biting remark about how unfair this was, or an explanation, but instead what Morpheus had said was,
“I haven’t paid my bill.”
Hob snorted, watching him sway on the spot and breathing heavily, the adrenaline of the fight still obviously pulsing through his veins.
“Come back tomorrow.”
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uglypastels · 11 months
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Not Wholly Evil |IX| pirate!Eddie au [NSFW]
a/n we are getting so close to the endddd oh my god i am so excited and sad at the same time because i don't want this story to end as much as some of you, but I also cannot wait to share my next lil projects with you 🥰 thank you for all the support on the last chapter!
this chapter will include explicit scenes. Minors DO NOT Interact. 18+. if you have read the previous chapters but do/should not wish to consume this content, please read:
Chapter 9 (safe for work version)
Series Masterlist
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word count: 13k
"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 in water. men are pigs: mentions of non-con, but it does not actually occur. [in-dream] non-consensual behaviour. malnourishment and weight loss. paranoia. mention of poisoning. abuse. manhandling. lying. small wounds inflicted by fire. blackmail. binds and knifes. SMUT 18+ ONLY, MDNI - p in v sex. oral (f receiving). no condom (this isn't the 18th century. wrap it before you tap it). choking. thigh riding. jealous!eddie.
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Chapter 9: Paragon
“Perhaps the wolf wasn't quite so dangerous as he pretended. Unfortunately, there was only one way to find out for sure——give him a little rope and see if he hung himself… And pray that he didn't tie her up with it instead.”
― Sabrina Jeffries, Dance of Seduction
He looked like he saw a ghost. And maybe he had. You didn’t feel like yourself, so who was to say if you were still alive? You had comprehended how you carried yourself back to the Hellfire. Standing in his room felt like you were looking down at yourself. Aware of everything around you but understanding none of it.
‘I thought you had left.’ He stepped into the room, leaving the door wide open. As he walked, you noticed he was clearing the way for you, allowing you to leave if you wanted to. His eyes were intently focused on yours and threaded lightly. Like any wrong move would cause you to disappear.
‘I wanted to,’ you admitted. You still wanted to. Your thoughts had screamed through the night for an escape. Yet, something tied you down to this ship and made you return.
‘Then why didn’t you?’ He came closer, and so did you. That string pulled at your ribs again, pulling you two closer. You had tried long enough to fight it to no avail. Whatever you thought you wanted did not compare to your subconscious need to be next to him. 
‘I don’t know.’ Deep down, you knew the reason, but the time was not there yet to admit it. In your mind, you still despised everything about him, this ship, the crew, and, therefore, yourself for needing his touch as much as you did at this moment. It was weak to give in to him like you did.
The candle’s light fell upon him at angles that brought something new out in him or maybe revealed what had always been there. The signs of the wear and tear of a life at sea. He wasn’t hiding it any more, letting all that pain be visible, and he looked beautiful. You held back from reaching out and tracing the thin scar against his brow or the flawed line of his nose that must have been broken once. The longer you looked at him, the more you realised that you could look at him in this way forever. 
And that scared you. 
Munson walked past you to his desk, occupying himself with whatever he could reach. It would have been good for you to have something to focus on instead of him, but you stood in the middle of the room with nothing but him to clutch onto. Neither of you spoke, stuck in an awkward limbo, tiptoeing around one another to see who would be the first to step over that line. The line that had kept you, your heart, safe until now. You could impossibly predict what was to happen if it was crossed.
The ship creaked as the tide softly bounced off it. For the rest, it was uncharacteristically quiet on board.
‘Is the rest coming as well? Will we be departing soon?’ It was ridiculous to change the topic in this manner, but you simply did not know what else to say, and this barrier between you and him was dreadful. You could sense it in the middle, waiting for that catalyst to burst. And you wanted it to. Just how?
‘No, I doubt they realised I’ve gone.’ He finally turned back to face you, leaning against the desk, arms crossed, eyes on the ground. If he could just look at you—would that make things easier or that much harder?
‘Why did you? Leave the tavern, I mean.’ With your heart pounding in your throat, tightening your breath, you stepped toward him. 
‘I noticed you were gone. Then I heard you had gone to the harbour with some man and I thought…. I grew worried.’
‘Why?’ You could not imagine him caring for you to go out, away from his crew and his festivities, to look for you. 
‘I know what you’re thinking, and at first, yes, I was thinking about the money,’ he admitted, which took you aback. You took a step closer. ‘But then I—when I realised, or thought, that I had actually lost you, I thought about how I would never see you again, and I realised—’ his words faded as you took your final step towards, letting your chest press against his. He finally let his eyes meet yours. 
‘Realised what?’ Considering your proximity and seclusion, you hadn’t meant to whisper, but it felt right. 
‘That I was scared’ His breath was shaky as his eyes took all of you in. ‘Of loosing you.’
‘I was scared too.’ And maybe that is what kept you from leaving. The idea that if you would go, there was a possibility that you would never see him again, and it was enough to hollow out your entire being with dread. It felt wrong. But that gnawing in your chest stayed there the whole night, even when you had returned to the Hellfire, and it only left once you felt his fingers intertwine with yours. A flutter of a touch at the fingertips.
‘And? Are you still scared?’ He matched your hushed tone with his response. The question was simple on its surface, but only the facade for an obliterating iceberg was the truth. 
‘No.’ Standing in front of him, feeling his breath on you, the warmth that radiated off him, his gentle touch on your skin, seeing the smile hiding in his features, you saw nothing to be scared of anymore. There was nothing to fear anymore. The voice in you that had screamed for help all those days was silenced for a final time when you leaned in to kiss him.
His lips were chapped, cheeks rough with scars and the light shadowy scruff of a beard. His touch was featherlight, as if he was scared to pursue it as if you were to break underneath him. It starkly contrasted the force he had pulled you in with hours before. The intensity had been dizzying, and yet this was what genuinely shut your mind down entirely. But you could tell that he was not there yet wholly. Something kept him guarded. 
You pulled away, but your lips still shared the same breath. When you opened your eyes, you were met with his and how they were shaking with uncertainty as he took all of you in. 
‘Is there something you’re still afraid of?’ you asked.
‘Many things,’ his hand found its place on your waist, ‘but mostly of myself,’ and gently pushed you away. ‘And what I will do to you. I have made so many mistakes, mistakes that hurt you, already in that I will have to live it for my eternity, but I do not know what I will do if I make one again.’ 
There was silence as you took in his words. You understood them, possibly more than anyone could, for they were yours. As your lips met, you thought if what you were doing would lead to your doom, if it would all end in a disaster, but could something that felt so right be so devastating?
He had let his eyes fall to the ground. You reclaimed the one step he had made you take, closing the gap between you once more and letting your hand guide him to look up at you.
‘Do you think that kiss was a mistake?’ Your heart beat faster than it ever had as you waited for an answer, but his lips remained shut, so you continued. ‘If so, do not play with my heartstrings, but tell me, and I will leave. I will return to my cell, and you can lock me up and never see me again until you bring me back home.’ It would only be a couple of days, and it would hurt to mend this extremely fragile piece of you that you had just opened, but like all wounds do, it would heal eventually.
‘Answer me, captain.’ You kept your voice as steady as possible, regaining the confidence you had built up since you got onto the ship. ‘Was that a mistake?’
‘No.’ And with that one final word, you both leaned in for a kiss. Your hand was still on his cheek, his holding you tightly, but you still felt that urge to pull yourself closer to him. As you felt the press of his chest fully against yours, he actually pulled his lips away from yours. He hesitated but finally spoke against the corner of your mouth. ‘But… call me Eddie. Please.’ 
You couldn’t help but smile into your next kiss. Just like that, all that weight of the world fell off both your shoulders, down into the depths of the ocean, never to be seen again. You didn’t hold back with this newfound freedom when you pushed him up against the desk. The furniture shuffled with a creak over the floor, and you could hear some things topple over at the impact. Still, neither of you cared, too occupied with one another. He could just about manage to extend his hand and begin to push all the loose items off the desk to make space for himself. The papers flew around you, and all the measurement equipment clattered onto the crowd. 
As the kiss intensified, Eddie shrugged and smoothly sat up on the desk, pulling you in with him. As he slowly let himself fall back, you followed, attached by the lips, hands, and hearts, until you practically lay on top, arms keeping you up from falling entirely onto him. Well, one hand, as the other found him and laced your fingers together once more. He had tried to make more space around you, pushing objects aside, when he cursed loudly.
You startled away and saw the clench in his jaw as he took a deep breath. He must have read your panic-stricken face as he showed you his hand. ‘It’s alright,’ his voice was calm, humour peaking through it. ‘I might have just put my hand right into the flame.’ And indeed, the side of his hand was glowing red. 
Hearing this did not put your mind at rest as you tried to grab his hand and inspect the damage more deeply, but he pulled it away from you, instead taking your fingers in his and kissing your knuckles. 
‘Don’t worry, my darling,’ he smiled while kissing your hand, ‘Can barely feel it.’
He had just made direct contact with fire; you doubted it would be alright, but then again, you had seen all the scars on his body. This would just be another small blister among the list of many. But you blinked the thought away. Tried your best to not think about the pain he had endured. You doubted he wanted you to feel pity for him and what had once happened to him. 
The look in his eyes was adamant. He needed you to let it go, so all you could do was sigh.
‘You’ve gone mad.’ 
Eddie chuckled at your comment as he let his lips travel over your wrist, over the length of your arm. ‘As mad as any other sane man.’ His kisses moved over the material of your shirt. The lack of contact that was so clearly there shot sparks of anticipation through you, but he took his time taking you all in until his lips reached your collar. He had practically strained his neck to reach you from his position. Some of you wanted to back away to see how far he would follow you, but your weaker portion gave into his touch and melted over it. 
He had just kissed your neck, sparking a fire through you on the spot, when a noise boomed over the silent ship, bursting you out of the solitary moment of bliss. In an instant, Eddie held you by the hips as he gently pushed you off him and got himself back on the ground. There was an alarm in his features, and so, when he looked at you and told you to “Stay here”, for once, you listened.
He closed the door behind him as he left to see what the noise was, and when minutes later, he had not returned, but there had also not been any more ruckus or signs of danger; you calmed down. Unsure of what to do now, you lay down on the bed. In the past few days, the bed had gotten more comfortable as you got used to it, but it still felt strange. You lay down on your side, facing the wall. The patterns in the wooden planks almost seemed to move in the shadowy light and, unfortunately for you, brought you into a trance of clarity and thoughts.
What were you doing? How could you have let all this happen? Kissing the man that had caused the death of so many people that you had deemed friends. How could you betray their souls by… by falling for him? You had lost control of all your feelings and emotions. 
It was a trick of the sea. You had simply been captured on this ship for so long that you did not know what was wrong or right. How else could you explain the yearning feeling that still circulated through you? Why else did you wish he was still here with you, touching you?
With all these thoughts occupying your mind, you must have missed Eddie walking back into the room, mumbling something about how it had been a few of his crew that stumbled back up to the ship. Too busy with your own mind, you did not hear him calling your name softly, assuming you had fallen asleep and telling you good night. You did not hear how deflated the last words came from his mouth. You only caught the sound of the door closing behind him. 
And soon you managed to turn all these thoughts off and fall asleep. Except then, they came back even stronger and in the form of dreams. You found yourself back on the Red Tail. The hawk flapped its wings on the flag in the wind and every man’s uniform. The sun shone brightly in its last few minutes before hiding behind the horizon. It was a strange illusion as you stared down at the ship and the two figures that stood out looking at the sparkling sea. You watched yourself talking to Admiral Carver.
‘I would have imagined you to have grown tired of the water by now,’ he laughed.
‘I won’t say I will be happy to return home, but I can’t ever see myself becoming tired of this view. It is beautiful.’ You leaned forward onto the balustrade and breathed in the salty air. ‘Besides, you have done this for much longer than I have, and you’re here too, so it can’t be that bad.’ It seemed it was only your first expedition while he had crossed the world several times. If anyone was to grow tired of it, you thought it would be him. 
‘Perhaps you’re right,’ he had his arms behind his back, ‘but everything is more bearable when there is something back home to look forward to.’ 
‘I suppose so.’ You would not exactly know what he meant. Of course, you could not wait to see your father again, and your friends, but nothing at home gave you the sense that it genuinely anchored you there or drew your heart in for your return. ‘I am sure you miss your family very much.’
‘Yes, of course,’ He took a step closer to you, ‘but I will miss these moments.’
‘Oh,’ you were startled by his proximity, unsure how to respond. Politely, you smiled and tried to keep the conversation going, ‘I’ve enjoyed them too, uhmm-’, but you were suddenly thrown off-guard when you felt his hands on you. Before he had the chance to do anything, you were quick to push him off. ‘What are you doing?’
‘Taking our last chance before it’s too late.’ He leaned in again, and you stepped back. 
‘What about your–’
‘She does not need to know.’ The sea was a free playing field for most men, so what happened out there was not up to the women at home to know. You had seen adultery but never thought the admiral would participate in such activities. He had been drinking; maybe he wasn’t thinking straight. Before he would make any more mistakes, you attempted to walk away, but he caught you by the arm, putting all his strength into the hold.
‘Admiral, you’re hurting me.’ You tried to pull your arm back, and this is where things began to change. Where the dream made itself apparent. Carver’s handsome features turned into vicious angles as he spoke. 
‘So you’ll kiss Munson, but not me?’ 
‘What- what are you–’ you tried to get away, but it was as if he grew in size. And there were flashes. These flashes of light. Like lightning, there was no thunder, rain, or light. It blinded you, and you tried to regain your sight by blinking, but each time you did so, he seemed to change right in front of you. 
There was him like you knew him, but the next second he turned into this nightmarish version of himself, but there were moments when he wasn’t himself at all. You’d blink, and suddenly you saw Captain Munson. Still in that uniform, however, you would try to make sense of it all. Still, before you could, he would disappear again, and you would be looking into Carver’s blank eyes, and you’d see the blood dripping from his mouth as he spat out his words.
‘Don’t trust him.’
‘What?’ You had tears in your eyes, and your wrist burned from his touch. There was another flash of light. Eddie stood before you again, just as you knew him. 
‘Do not trust him.’
Don’t trust who? Who were you meant to trust, then? The questions rang through you as you woke up, head throbbing with pain, limbs sore and dehydrated. If you did not know any better, you would have blamed the rum you consumed the night before on everything, making you imagine all that had happened. Still, the sensation that Eddie had left on your whole body felt too real to be just a drunken dream or nightmare.
He was not in the cabin when you awoke, but you could hear him outside, yelling commands out. When you looked outside the window, you could tell by how the waves moved that you had departed the Saint Claire harbour and were on your way again.
You sat up in bed but remained still afterwards, uncertain what to do next. Some part of you wanted to go outside and see Eddie, talk to him about whatever it was that had happened that night. Still, a bigger side of you doubted you could ever look him in the eye again. Seeing your reflection from the glass doors of a cabinet in the room, of yourself in his bed, made you feel bad enough. So, staying in the room for the rest of the day was not an option either. You were already at the door, hand on the handle, when it opened, nearly crashing into you. 
‘Sorry,’ his apology was muffled. 
‘I was just on my way out,’ you muttered in the same awkward tone and walked past him. 
‘Wait,’ Eddie reached for you, and the memory of your dream of Carver made you retract away from him, regretting it as soon as you did. Eddie wasn’t him, but you treated him the same because of something your exhausted mind had decided to conjure up. Eddie kept his distance. ‘Can we talk?’
‘Later,’ you pleaded. This was not the right time. You could tell that it would not end well if you stayed there. 
But when would it be right? When would the stars align correctly for you to speak? It certainly wasn’t the next two days, as you kept walking in circles around eachother. You avoided him like the plague, and it was unlikely that he had not noticed yet. 
You kept yourself occupied with anyone else but him, really. Talking to Robin, Steve, and anyone else who seemed to require company as much as you. Almost as much, at least. It shocked you as well as them how smoothly the conversations went. While only a little was exchanged, neither side being too keen on sharing too much of their past, somehow, you still managed to fill hours with polite pleasantries. Some even showed you how to work around the ship, probably more than happy to give you some of their workload now. You didn’t mind. It was alright if it stopped you from overthinking everything that had happened in the past weeks. But it was still hard to do when you felt Eddie’s eyes on you. He’d watch you work the sails or anything else from afar, but when you’d try and catch him, he’d be suddenly occupied with something and walk away. 
The biggest surprise, however, came one evening when everyone had gathered for their final meal of the day. You had gotten your portion and were ready to return to the cabin when Robin pointed to the seat between her and Steve. You wanted to politely decline, feeling like you did not strictly belong in this dynamic—the crew’s meals felt more sacred, a moment for them to spend together, but they all saw your argument coming and shut it down. 
‘Never thought I’d say this,’ Wheeler, one of the lankier crewmates, said at some point, ‘but I might actually miss you.’ There was a cloud of agreeable laughter to which you belonged. It was funny, but what scared you was that you would miss them too when that eventual day of your return home would come. 
And it was coming.
Something about the air around you began to feel more familiar each day. And when you talked to Robin, you could sense that she knew how much time there was left. But each time you asked, she avoided answering straightforwardly. 
‘Not sure. But you know how seatravels are, you can never be sure… I mean, we should have been there days ago and yet,’ she laughed nervously, tying knots in a piece of old rope that someone had cut off once. 
‘I suppose you’re right.’ You had your own piece of rope and were toying with the frayed ends, pulling them apart mindlessly. You could hear Eddie talking to someone somewhere around, and you did your best not to look up. It had been days, but your tension still felt raw and strange. You wanted to simultaneously run into his arms and run away from him as far as possible, and you could not figure out which urge was the right one to follow.
‘It probably won’t take much longer, don’t worry.’ Robin said, her shoulder slumping as she untied another knot to remake it.
‘I’m not worried,’ you admitted. 
‘No, and you don’t need to be,’ Robin panicked, not wanting to give you the wrong impression of what she had intended to say, ‘but I’m sure you’ll be glad to be home.’ To this, you had no response because, very much like in your last days on your old ship, you had been eagerly awaiting your return home but did not feel like you were actually happy to go back. On top of that, you actually had the sense that you would miss this crew. By leaving, you would be leaving something behind, and you had never felt that before.
But it still did not feel right. Like a kink in your neck that you were trying to stretch out until it disappeared.
‘Can I ask you something?’ you said cautiously. 
Robin glanced up from her rope. ‘You always scare me when you say that.’ 
‘I hadn’t noticed I did it often.’ 
‘You’re quite inquisitive. It’s commendable, but dangerous.’
‘Should I be scared?’ You blinked. 
‘Not here, but in other parts of the world they’re not too keen on it, so just beware.’ She had tied a knot she couldn’t loosen anymore. ‘But what was your question?’ 
You took a deep breath. ‘Why did you target the Red Tail? And I know it was targeted, since the captain was aware what ship you were attacking.’ There was that other puzzle piece that was missing in your brain. How would he know if you were supposed to be on that ship or not? 
Robin froze and dropped her rope. You watched it fall to the ground and her reaching to pick it up clumsily. Once she did, she fumbled around even more with it. ‘I’m probably not the best person to ask this; I joined the crew late, I don’t know everything that’s going on around—’ she was getting distracted, losing the point of your question, or so you thought, ‘I had only heard things, but you have to know that people around here, we trust each other and that trust is earned. We might cheat once in a while in a game of cards or dice, but some things you just can’t lie about.
‘So, I didn’t need much convincing from the captain when he said that those— that those were bad men.’
‘He told you that my crew were bad men?’ 
‘They needed to be punished.’ Robin shrugged, but not in the way that made you think she thought indifferent. More so that, there was nothing she could do about it. It was a brief apology to you, not for what they had done, but as if she was sorry for being the bearer of the news. 
‘Punished for what?’ you asked, but Robin shook her head. Right, she wouldn’t be able to know, and you didn’t blame her. Was there anyone around willing to share more of the specifics of this situation? You felt like you had the right to explain what had brought you to their ship, but it would go past some lines of comfort for the men. Could you dare ask Eddie? 
But to ignore him for days just to come up with these questions could not be appreciated; then again, he owed you at least this after being the sole reason for your presence on this ship in the first place. He had caused all this mess. He could at least help you clean it up. 
You finished your conversation with Robin slowly, without any urgency to actually put it to an end. It must have been confusing to Robin, who saw how you tried to tie your sentences up to walk away, just to disentangle them just as she had been doing with her rope and keep pulling it back. Ultimately, she stopped it all and excused herself from the argument she needed back on her lookout post. She walked away, giving you this look that made it clear to you that she knew what you were planning to do and how apprehensive you were to do it. And whatever for? You had fought, punched, slapped and kissed Eddie in the past days without hesitation; why could you not just talk to him now?
Because that would actually mean something to you. It would unblur all the lines that connected you into a clear pattern, and you would have to live with those results, and you just were not ready for that yet. 
You took deep breaths as you walked up to the captain’s quarters. The door creaked as it slid open but was met with a resistant force as you collided with Eddie. He grunted lightly at the impact, and you began to apologise. 
‘Sorry,’ you mumbled, not expecting him to be so close suddenly. You had hoped to catch him at his desk, where the furniture could keep some kind of barrier between you. Still, now he stood mere inches away, towering over you and the heat of his body radiating onto yours. 
‘I was just on my way out.’ He scratched his beard casually, but his eyes said enough about how similarly he felt about your sudden appearance.
‘I hoped we could talk,’ you blurted out, and Eddie blinked.
‘Talk? Now?’ To this, you only nodded shyly. It had been too long. You had made him wait for days, which was simply too long. Why would he want to listen to what you had to say now? Eddie was ready to brush past you, but you were quicker, catching his arm and pulling eachother closer until your lips met in a chaste kiss. The suddenness stunned him, but for a blink of an eye before his muscles melted into position around you. It only confirmed your worst thoughts, how perfectly the two of you fit together, how your bodies simply locked into place with one another. The heat that grew between you could not only be felt by you. It was too strong for that. As much as you did not want to admit it, there was something there that you did not want to lose.
‘I’m sorry, ‘you said breathlessly, ‘for everything I’ve done in the past few days.’
‘You have done nothing to apologise for.’ He sighed.
‘Exactly,’ you jumped back at how loud you sounded. Still, his pull on your waist kept you close, ‘I have done nothing, while I should have stayed here with you, and we should have talked of, of whatever it is that stands between us, but—but I was scared. I thought I hadn’t been, but I was, and that, in turn, scared me even more, so I thought I needed time to think—’ 
‘And did you?’ He looked down at you inquisitively like he was observing a strange, yet highly fascinating, phenomenon in front of him. Something that he should not be enjoying as much as he was. The unwanted smirk appeared on his lips no matter how hard he tried to hide it. It made you aware of just how much you had tried to say in what short of an amount of time.
‘Yes,’ you said with a slow breath to help you calm down. At this, Eddie simply reacted with a gesture telling you to go on, to tell him what kind of discovery you had made. Would it be anything that could help your conundrum? Clear things up in your heads and maybe even hearts? You could not be sure, but it was a start if you just let those parts of you speak freely.
You took one more deep breath. ‘That night you asked me if I was scared, and I said “no”, but…’ you pushed past the shake of your voice. ‘But I realise now that that wasn’t the truth.’ As you announced this, the hand on your waist tightened its grip before leaving your body entirely. The immediate lack of contact made you regret your choice of words. Maybe you should have prepared what to say, but letting it come out unrehearsed and unplanned felt like the right thing to do. It would not cut out any of the emotions you felt. What you wanted him to know that you thought, so you stammered out your following words.
‘There is so much that I am scared of. It scares me how and how much I have changed in the past few days, and I am scared that I do not mind it. It scares me how much I enjoy being here and how much I want to be… with you.’ Your last words faded as you had not expected to hear yourself say them out loud. Eddie, who you had watched as he walked around the room in slow paces as he listened, must not have expected them, too, for he stopped to stare at you, dumbfounded.
‘Why?’ was the only thing he said in response. 
‘Because…’ you let out an exasperated sigh, walking up to him. You had somehow managed to find yourselves at his throne, ‘because this is not who I am supposed to be. I shouldn’t be. You are you; I am me, and nothing here is right.’ Yet the puzzle had never fit tighter together than it did now. But at the same time… ‘As much as I want to spend my days with you, I cannot stop thinking about all the chaos you have caused in my life. Whether on purpose or not…There is blood on your hands, Eddie.’ there were tears in your eyes. Eddie looked down at his hands as if you had meant it literally. They were pale and had a shake to them, but he quickly put them down to his sides.
‘And yet you’re still here.’ He said it with a distance, more to himself than anyone else, narrating the events as if putting it all into words could make it make more sense somehow, and maybe to him, it did. However, you were still utterly clueless and running in the dark.
‘I am.’ You nodded your head lightly. ‘And I wish I could explain why. To you and to myself, but I simply do not know.’
‘Let me pose you these two questions then,’ he spoke sternly, and you got the unexpected feeling that this would be a test you had to ace. ‘Are you still scared of me? Do you regret anything that happened between us?
‘Answer yes to either of my questions,’ he held two fingers up, ‘and I will make all of this very easy for you and disappear. You will never have to see me again but be honest.’ Looking into his eyes the way you were, it was difficult to lie, or it would have been if you had any intention of doing so. The word came easier to you than anything else had in your life, but you still needed to know some things before sealing your fate.
‘Before I answer, I need to know your business with the admiral.’
Eddie scoffed, looking out the window, ‘I could not care less about the admiral.’ Something in him tensed up despite his attempt to make his reply come out casually. Everything besides his eyes, which flickered with so many emotions simultaneously, you could not distinguish between them soon enough.
‘But the attack on my ship was deliberate, was it not?’ You did not need this to become another one of your rows and spoke as carefully as you could manage. If one of you began to raise your voice or fill your words with anger, it would take over the other, exploding fatally in the middle, and that is not what you wanted.
‘What do you remember from that day?’ He looked at you, head cocked to the side as he studied your face. He saw you blink slowly, trying to understand what he was implying.
‘I remember everything.’ How could you not? It was one of the most terrifying days of your life. ‘I remember being on the deck and seeing your dark sails and how I hid under that desk as the canons went off–’ 
‘Whose canons?’ He stared at you blankly, and you mirrored him perfectly. 
‘What?’
‘What canons did you hear go off? Who shot first?’ He did not say anything else, just stood still as you tried to reply with confidence that you lost as soon as you gave your answer some thought.
Everything had happened so quickly, and it was so loud. All you had tried was to block it out. But you heard the bangs. They came from all sides, but the first one... the first one was the closest.
Eddie must have seen the recognition on your face. ‘I know that those people were your friends. And I am sorry that that is how things-’
‘But you said I was not meant to be on board. You knew what ship it was.’ You cut him off at the memory. ‘You would have attacked either way, wouldn’t you?’
‘It is not that simple.’ He shook his head.
‘Isn’t it?’ 
‘No, and I wish I could explain, but I fear that whatever I tell you will only make you see the worst in me and them.’ 
‘You could at least try.’ You reached for his hand, and a bit of you leapt in relief when you saw he did not pull away. ‘I want to understand, Eddie. You do not know how horrible it is to live in this realm of uncertainty and oblivion.’
‘Would you rather live with the horrors of the truth?’ He asked genuinely, with the pain that exactly this truth had caused him in his eyes.
‘Is that not a choice I deserve to make by myself?’ You once again found yourself up against him. Funny how it always came back to this and how you would not have wanted it any other way.
‘You’ve said it yourself; I’ve hurt you enough times. I can not risk doing it again. I will not let myself do that.’ He brushed a strand of hair from your face, brushing his fingers over your cheek. ‘Now, will you please answer my questions?’
‘No,’ and with that, you answered both. Whatever tugged at you from the inside to feel such anxiety had nothing to do with Eddie.
On the contrary, you felt a sense of calm whenever you saw him. And you had wanted, really wanted, to regret those kisses, but you still dreamt of them at night, and it was all with a magical wonder that you wished to experience once more. Despite everything in your life that had led to this that would have told you to turn around and run away, you stayed firmly in your place in front of him with no intention of ever running away again.
Eddie leaned in, and you anticipated a kiss that never came as he spoke against the corner of your mouth, sending shivers down your spine. ‘I need you to say it, darling.’
‘I’m not scared of you, Eddie.’ The tremble in your voice had nothing to do with fear but all with the way he held you. His hand had moved down your cheek onto your neck, fingers wrapped around your throat, thumb caressing your jaw. His eyes pierced through you. ‘And I do not regret anything.’
You knew Eddie had seen all the far corners of the world. You must have come across the grandest of riches. Yet standing in front of him, you could not help but think how seeing Captain Eddie Munson beam his most genuine smile was the rarest and most beautiful treasure of them all. It was infectious; you could not help but smile at it. 
He let himself come close again, but just as your lips were about to touch, he spoke instead. Right against you, the hot air of his breath pricked at your skin with his light laugh. ‘Before all of this, had you ever imagined yourself here with me?’
As much as you had wished it was not true, ‘I did, actually.’ Your mind flashed to your dreams, the ones you had once thought were conjured up to plague you, but now you realised it was just your heart screaming out your deepest desires.
Like a reward, Eddie kissed your cheek for your reply. ‘Really? The princess had thought of me, a filthy pirate?’
‘I’m not a princess.’ You rolled your eyes playfully.
‘Out of all the things to dispute, you argue my words of affection?’ He chuckled, and you could feel the vibrations deep within his chest. 
‘There was nothing else to correct.’ You wanted to laugh but instead froze at the sensation of Eddie lightly putting pressure on your throat as he was still kissing pieces of your face. Just like that, everything in the past minutes disappeared from your mind. When he pulled away, you saw the mischievous glint in his eyes that once used to bring out fear of the worst in you.
‘Glad to know you haven’t changed too much, darling.’ With his hand around you, he gave you little choice but to look up at him. There was a moment in which both of you took everything of the other in. You tried to soak in all his features from this small distance, for some reason feeling the need to remember them all. Meanwhile, he read your face for any signs of reluctance, which he found none of. ‘You enjoyed that, didn’t you, princess?’ 
A question which brought a lot of enjoyment out of him.
Still taken aback by his actions, you stood there with your lips slightly parted, bewildered, so all you did was nod. And again, your response was rewarded with another kiss, finally letting you meet his lips while tightening his hold on you.  The weak sound that came out of your mouth at the feeling was an instinct. You had never heard yourself make such a sound, and he must have known it somehow as his grin grew wider against you. 
The kiss grew in strength by the fleeting second as you both lost control over your bodies, just letting them speak for themselves. It was messy and heated. The pent-up tension that had been sitting between you was finally finding its release. Eddie’s hands roamed over your body, almost in a hunger-like manner, devouring you with his touch alone. Maybe this hunger felt too real when Eddie’s teeth grazed over your neck, sending an unknown spark through your body at the sensation.
You held onto him tightly, one hand on his shoulder as the other rooted itself in his dark locks—which made you soon realise that the tiniest of motions of you caused a reaction in him as well, in the form of a low hiss as you pulled the hairs on the back of his neck. It had been an accident, as you tried to keep yourself up when the pleasure he brought you made you feel light as a feather.
Eddie hummed at your response as his hands continued their wandering path across your body. The pressure of his palms, combined with the slow and tantalising pace at which he moved, drove you to press your body eagerly against him, which, in turn, only spurred him on to continue down this track of your curves. His movements got rougher as he kept going.
With your urge to keep your bodies close, you quickly caught on Eddie walking backwards. You followed him mindlessly until he found his throne seat and pulled you along with him, right on top of his lap. At this proximity, you could feel all of him underneath you.
‘Tell me,’ he kissed you briefly between words, ‘have you ever been with a man before?’
‘Yes,’ you dared to reply with the truth. Anywhere else, it would have been considered a great shame, a sin of the highest degree, but with Eddie, somehow, you felt like he had wanted that to be your answer. You tried to focus on his face, that smile he shot up at you and the short answer you gave him, instead of how his hands roamed over your thighs. Even with the fabric of your trousers in between, his effect on you was immense. He must have felt how you tensed up when he reached your core. 
‘Did anyone ever touch you like this?’ 
‘Uhm, no, not in this way.’ You struggled with the words as he let his fingers press over your most sensitive parts, everywhere all at once. You could barely keep track of it. Another moan escaped you as his hand moved over your breast. Even with the fabric keeping your modesty intact, he had still found a way for his fingers to move smoothly across your nipples. The feeling lulled you into comfort, brewing the heat inside your chest. And so, you gasped as, with one aggressive pull, Eddie ripped the material of your shirt in two, revealing you to him entirely. Your eyes were wide in shock as his darkened with want.
‘Not scared of me yet, are you, princess?’ His hand was on your ribs, waiting for permission to touch your bare skin. 
‘No,’ your voice sounded like a hushed, airy whisper. Eddie smiled but still hesitated with his subsequent actions. As the shirt sleeve fell off your shoulder, he kissed you again. Except this time, his lips met your breast. The arch in your back, the tug of your hips towards him, was an almost mechanised reaction to it. And with it came the friction of his thigh against you. 
‘Eddie.’ His name sounded shaky coming from you as you could barely inhale a steady breath, too occupied with him.
‘That’s right, princess.’ He groaned as his lips remained on your skin, kissing the valley of your chest. With each kiss, your want for him grew, but your movements over his thigh barely covered the needed friction. You dug your nails into his shoulders, making him groan out in pained pleasure. He cursed before taking you by the hips. ‘Stand up.’
You did as he asked, something that did not go unnoticed by either of you. Eddie chuckled as he looked up at you, chin on your stomach, lips nearly pressing against it, so close you could feel the vibrations of his voice. 
‘So you can be good for me.’
A snide remark was already forming on the tip of your tongue, but Eddie was quicker. Smoothly, he pulled down your trousers and let them pool at your ankles. You stood in front of him in only your torn-up shirt. His large eyes were on you up until the moment his face made contact with your core, and at that moment, everything went black. You could just about make out that you held him close to you, pulling at his hair; as for the rest, the world was turning upside down and around at a speed that made everything seem like a sea full of stars. Your moans filled the room as his tongue licked through your slit. 
You assumed that with how he held you with one hand, his fingers would leave marks for days, but the other was much lower. You could hear the sound of a belt unbuckling. He was clearly struggling to work around his clothes with only one hand, especially with most of him already preoccupied with you and your pleasure. Never before had you seen such kind of ferocity in a man. Not when he pulled himself closer to you and practically fell to his knees from the throne. You surely would have fallen back if it had not been for him and the desk that hit your legs and now acted as an extra grip. It was especially needed when Eddie pulled your leg over his shoulder, gaining even more access to you. 
The desk kept sliding back with the force at which he held you in your place, grazing the floor, but it was all blocked out by your moans. They were filled with curses and the repetition of his name as your vision blurred with ecstasy and your body tightened with need. There was no possible way that the rest could not hear you through the thin walls of the cabin, but you could not care less about them. At this moment, they simply did not exist. 
‘You taste absolutely divine.’ Eddie spoke while kissing your inner thigh, making your legs even weaker. You noticed his lips glistening, never looking more kissable than ever before. 
He had run your mind through a mill; words were hard to come by. All you could muster out was a weak hum as you let your hand brush through his hair. At that, he nuzzled himself between your legs again, this time much gentler, and took his time kissing every inch of skin he had access to, giving you the time to catch your breath while still keeping you on that high edge.
‘I—I never…’ you still struggled to form a sentence.
‘Hmm,’ he kissed your stomach, ‘I know.’ And he slowly rose to his feet, catching your face in one more passionate kiss. You had gotten so used to how he tasted—rum, tobacco, sea air— that your flavour threw you off for a moment, but soon enough, you were sinking into him just as before. And again, you could hear the struggling twinkle of a locked belt buckle. 
‘Would you be a doll,’ he said with his amusement running down your cheek, ‘and help a poor man out.’
You reached for his trousers, undoing the belt and unbuttoning them so they could drop down his thighs. You had felt it before, how aroused he had grown, but seeing it made you take a step back. 
‘Nothing to be afraid of, darling.’ He grinned, placing a hand on your cheek. The other made itself comfortable between your legs, toying with your wetness. 
‘I know.’ You looked into his eyes. The warmth of them had burned up into a dark and hungry desire. Putting a light pressure onto his shoulders, you pushed him back down into the chair. Eddie practically bounced in the seat, taking you all in as much as you took the moment to look at him. Your flicker of confidence in the moment when you thought you knew what you were doing fizzled, but he must have read that off of you, as the next second he was the one pulling you down. 
‘Was this how you expected it to be,’ he murmured against your ear, ‘when you thought about us.’ 
‘No,’ you admitted. It was nothing like you had imagined. All your dreams had been of what you had thought he was; careless, dangerous, feeding off your fear. There had been none of this passion that you felt now. None of the heat, the tenderness or the feeling.
‘Anything you’d still like to change,’ he kissed the soft spot of skin behind your ear that made you shiver. 
‘No,’ you gasped. You could feel him against you, just waiting for the moment to enter you. The two of you were dancing around it, letting other make that next move, the plunge off the cliff, with no return. You shuffled over his thighs. One more kiss would seal the final deal when you moved your hips up and he adjusted himself infront of you.
The moan you let out at the feeling of him inside you, of him stretching your walls and filling you whole, was impossible to miss. Ships from miles away could probably tell what was going on, but again, they were not a part of your universe in this moment. Just you. You concentrated at the pace he was making you keep up with. The roll of your hips against the grind of his. Each thrust went deeper and harder making Eddie more aggressive in the most blissful of ways. There was nothing else to think about, because why would you when this felt so good? Reality went lost on you, until you felt his fingers dig into your side, a pain rushing through you. 
Both of you froze.
‘What’s wrong?’ Eddie immediately looked to where he had held you, pulling the remaining pieces of your shirt up to reveal the scar. The rough skin was a stark contrast to the rest of you. He met your eyes again. ‘Does it still hurt?’
‘It’s just sensitive.’ You wanted to push his hand away, cover the mark up again so neither of you had to be reminded of it. It had been a stupid mistake, that much you knew, and it was not as if you could change the past, so why let it pester you? But Eddie was not the kind to give up easily. He pushed the shirt material back up, keeping your hand away from him, to inspect the damage he had caused. 
‘I’ve done a lot in my life that I will forever regret,’ he kissed your shoulder as his thumb traced over the scarred line, ‘but this will probably haunt me the longest.’ His words and touch, combined with how you sat in his lap, still full of him, got you lost for words. Because, of course, you had hoped that this was his sentiment, you understood and appreciated his words, but what else was there to say? The only thing you could think of replying, which felt silly to do seeing your current position, was ask for some clarification.
‘What happened? I would have thought you had more control over your sword than that.’ You aired the conversation with a bit of laughter, but it only spurred him on to thrust deeper into you.
 ‘I had thought so too,’ he kept moving his hips forcefully, ‘I had hoped so,’ he kissed you sloppily, ‘but I lost it all when I saw you with him.’
‘Who?’ you asked. Maybe under different circumstances, you could have thought more clearly to realise what he was speaking of, but that did not seem possible. 
‘Harrington,’ the name came out of him with a bitter taste. Apparently, the feelings from that day had not disappeared as far as he had thought, but now he could let these frustrations out in a less hazardous manner. It still took a toll on you, but there was no pain to speak of. Just pure pleasure. 
Still, the mention of the crew member had surprised you. ‘Why– why would you—’
‘The way he held you, smiled at you, don’t you think I had wanted to do that? From the moment I saw you—but all I did was drive you away. It was just another reminder of my failure and before I knew it I—’ he stopped himself, still unable to properly speak of what happened. You kissed the bridge of his nose. 
‘For what it’s worth,’ you tugged at the words to come out cohesively, ‘I never thought of him as—’
‘It does not even matter what you think of him,’ he laughed, more so at himself, ‘You could fall for and by happy with any man on this earth and I could make my peace with it. I just don’t want to be the reason for your suffering.’
‘I think—’ a moan burst through your thought with another deep thrust, ‘I think you have managed to pay back any of your wrongdoings.’
‘Oh, darling, I haven’t even started to repay my debts.’ And so, Eddie kissed your neck, over and over, and with those kisses moved down to your brest. Your head rolled back with a soft whine at the attention he gave you, if not with his mouth, than the hand that kneaded your flesh and played with your nipples. 
As he kept going, and as your hips met his and the pleasure burst through you, you could feel everything coming to a close. The tightness in your body swelled while your control over it strayed. There was no possible way you could hold on for much longer and from the looks of it, Eddie had no plans on making you wait. He bucked his hips into you harder and harder, almost impossibly for you to keep it all in. You could explode with this pleasure and that is exactly what he wanted.
‘Mmm c’mon, princess. Feel so good around me,’ he hummed, ‘could anyone make you feel this good?’ 
‘Just you,’ you moaned out, holding tightly on to him as you felt the tension build up in you. 
‘That’s right,’ he had a smug smile across his face that you wished you could wipe off, and you would if you did not need him to keep doing whatever it was he did. Were his fingers back between your legs? Rubbing tight circles, sparking up your sensitivity. ‘Just me.’
‘Just you, Eddie,’ his named squeaked out from between your teeth when he reached the deepest part of you.
‘I’ll never get enough of you saying my name.’ 
‘Eddie,’ you repeated it in in a haze with his final thrusts that finally brought you over the edge. Stars fell over you in pleasure as Eddie slowed down his movements, letting you come down from the high. He held you tightly in his arms as you let your head fall on his shoulder until you fell into a comfortable silence. There was only the rush of the waves and your tired breaths that filled your ears.
Once your heart settled back to a steady pace, you knew it wasn’t safe. As good as this moment felt, it wouldn’t last. Whatever this was, there was no possibility in which it would outlive this voyage. Then, once it was over, it would hurt. That much you knew. Possibly more than anything had hurt before, and you would just have to be on the lookout for that end until then to let yourself become at peace with it. There wasn’t another choice, as this idea always stayed with you in the back of your head from that moment on. When you fell asleep in Eddie’s arms that night, you thought how many more days you got to wake to in such bliss as you did the next morning.
You could not tell if Eddie had these troubles, you could not tell, for he went through his following days much like before. The only difference was that his free minutes were now occupied with you.
It had not been your intention to make it so obvious to the crew, but there was also so little you could hide from them. Nothing could escape the dozens of interested eyes, so why hide your affection towards their captain? He certainly was not making any attempts. Any chance he got, he found himself at your side, holding you, kissing you, then behind closed doors, do all the other unspeakable things to you that made the others turn green of envy. 
Your mornings and afternoons were much the same as they had been before the night of the storm and the Hellfire’s arrival at Saint Claire, as you still spent it in each other's company. The difference was now that instead of being separated by the large oak desk, Eddie would often pull you into his lap to sit in the throne, if not making himself comfortable with you on the bed. The nights began with kisses and limbs tangled with eachother and merged into a joined slumber. Unfortunately, as happy as your days felt, it would not stop the nightmares from coming, but each time you would awake in a cold sweat or with shaking hands, he would be right there to coax you back to peace. What surprised you, however, was that you would do the same to him. 
Somehow, the thought of the notorious captain waking up screaming in the middle of the night, chest heaving, eyes wide with fear, had never occurred to you. You had never imagined him reaching for your thigh to ground himself as his reality spiralled in the dark.
‘Shh,’ you held him tightly, ‘it’s okay.’ 
Neither of you asked what the dreams were about, knowing you could do nothing about them. You could just help the other through it. And then, each time, the dreams that followed were much sweeter. 
Then you’d wake up in each other’s arms long before the rest of the world seemed to. Those few blissful moments where nothing could disturb you and the time you could spend in that bed was endless. 
Except it very much was not. And you realised it exactly through what you thought would be your escape. 
It was a sunny morning. The golden sunrays illuminated the cabin as you reached for Eddie, just to find the side of the bed to be empty. Only his impression in the covers, the faint temperature his body had radiated onto them, was still there. It could not have been long since he had gotten up, and indeed, you caught him standing at the window—leaning against it, more like. His trousers were loose on his hips, and his shirt was still on the ground around you. 
Grabbing that shirt and throwing it over your naked body, you walked over to him, and he looked in your direction as soon as he heard your footsteps. The smile in his eyes was genuine but weak. As soon as you were close enough, he pulled you into an embrace, twirling you around so your back would hit his chest and you could look out at the sea. With how the sunrays sparkled across the waves, it all felt like a dream, too good to be true, but you did not know yet that the dream was at the end of its tether.
‘I really am sorry,’ he mumbled, having his face already nuzzled in the crook of your neck, kissing the spot where it met your shoulder.
‘What for?’ Apologies had become a frequent appearance in his vocabulary, showing up in almost every conversation, if not sentence.
‘You know.’ Yes, you did know. For everything. He held a moment of silence, enjoying your presence in his arms for a little longer, before speaking again. ‘I just keep thinking about how everything between us happened, and if it had not been for me, we could have had more.’
‘I’m just as guilty.’ You had been stubborn, aggressive, and just as blind to your feelings. 
‘Highly doubtful statement.’ He laughed, and his breath tickled the hairs on your neck.
‘I don’t think so.’ You shrugged in his hold.
‘Still just as stubborn, aren’t you, princess.’ He squeezed you tighter. 
‘Is that not one of my most desirable attributes?’ You spun yourself around in his hold and quickly wrapped your arms around him. Doing so, hearing his tone and joy in his  voice, you had expected to see him smiling, but he looked just as sombre as when you had walked up to him. ‘What’s wrong?’ Your hand mindlessly began to trace over the scars on his chest, knowing it brought comfort to both you and him by now.
Eddie shook his head, holding back a laugh. ‘You know…’ he kissed your forehead,  ‘when I woke up, I saw you lying there, with the sun shining on your face, and you looked so peaceful, I had honesty considered just locking you away and keeping you forever, but I am a man of my word, am I not?’
‘I…don’t understand.’ You tried to see the meaning behind his words in his eyes, but there was nothing, and it only got harder to figure out when he held his forehead against yours, keeping you close. You still tried to make sense of what he said when you saw it. There, in the far back corner of your eye. So far, it could have been a play of light, and yet it was more real than anything. So undeniably real it crushed everything around you without question. 
From the angle the ship stood at, that was as much as you could envision through the windows, and thus you ran out of the room. As much as you did not want to leave Eddie behind, knowing it could be one of the last moments the two of you had, you ran out onto the deck to meet the silhouette of mountains against the rising sun. The longer you looked at it, the clearer the details became. The ridges of the mountains, the forests, the watch towers and houses. The uniformed ships that stood in the harbour.  
You knew this day was coming, you had been waiting for it, and yet, now that it was right there in front of you, you wished to be as far from it as possible. In what must have been shock, you took a couple of steps back just to collide with something—someone. You turned around to see Eddie and his soft but sad smile.
‘Welcome home,’ he announced.
Home, sweet home.
Your head turned between him and the land in the too-near distance, waiting for one of them to disappear, maybe even both. Why was this so difficult for your mind to comprehend? Why were the first words to come from your mouth, ‘Can we turn back?’ 
‘As much as I would want to,’ he sighed, ‘I’m sure they’ve noticed us by now.’ They must have. The watchers in those towers had the eyes of hawks, one of the reasons why your town was named after the bird.
‘So, what do we do?’ This is not how someone who is to be returning to their family after months spent with criminals was meant to respond. Everything about this was so wrong.
‘Go put your dress on.’ Eddie cocked his head back to the cabin. ‘I doubt they will appreciate you wearing this, as much as I adore it on you.’ That is when you realised you stood out on the main deck wearing only his shirt. ‘I’ll meet you in a few minutes.’ And with that, he gave you that look he had given you all those times before when you had been too headstrong in your own actions. Please, listen to me. It will be alright.
You walked back, feeling like you were floating, but not anywhere near the same way that you had the previous few days. It did not feel like you were weightless, on a cloud, free of worry or from the world. You were drifting. Far out into the abyss with nothing to hold on to. In this same state, you walked over to the wardrobe, where you had hung your dress, removed the item of clothing you had on and put on the old and tethered garment. It had once fit you like a glove, but you were far from the person it was measured for.
Just as you finished putting it on, the door opened, and Eddie walked in. 
You didn’t want to look at him. Not because of anger, you had, after all, no reason to be angry at him at that moment, but because you were sure that if you looked into those brown irises again, you would break down. He must have had the same idea as you as he walked past you, only grabbing the nearest shirt off the rack, and making a headway to the desk.
‘What are you going to do now?’ After all, that had been what pulled you two together, the money your father would offer for your return. That is what kept you on this ship safe for as long as it did… although, in retrospect, you doubted that Eddie would have ever done anything to you. Maybe he had always intended to bring you home before even speaking to you. Perhaps the money made no difference. But funnily enough, you wanted him to get it. Something in you, a deep instinct, told you that it was what he deserved.
‘Write a random note,’ he said, and you could see he was doing his best not to laugh. ‘Then we’ll send the note out, hope it reaches your dearest, and we’ll make the exchange.’ His words were quick and emotionless, but you noted the hint of novice apprehension in his plan.
‘You’ve never done this before, have you?’ you asked as you made your way up to the chair across from him.
‘Try not to sound too disappointed over my lack of experience in selling beautiful maidens back to their prosperous fathers.’
‘Not at all,’ you shook your head, grabbing the piece of parchment and quill from him. ‘But let me. It will be proof of life, and besides, your handwriting is unrecognisable. He won’t be able to read any of it.’ 
Eddie stared at you blankly as you began writing. 
Dear father, 
But what were you to write? The ink dripped off the quill as you pondered on the words. For a message that was quite clear, it was hard to actually phrase it and write it out. By the time you had signed your name at the bottom of the page, the Hellfire had almost reached the coast. You read it through once more: 
Dear Father, 
I know it has been a long time since you last heard from me. The Red Tail is no more; I was the only survivor, to my knowledge, saved by a crew of rogue sailors. They have kept me locked away but are willing to free me for the price of 5.000 pounds. Please meet me at noon at the Star Port for the exchange.
Love, 
Your daughter, 
You had decided against the mention of piracy or anything specific about the ship’s sinking, knowing that it would only drive your father away from pain the ransom. Eddie had been unable to keep still while you wrote your drafts but now stood behind you, hands on the backrest of your chair, reading the note along with you, over your shoulder.
‘Who would have thought, my darling extorting her own father.’
‘I am doing no such thing!’ You looked up at him, ‘I am simply… aiding you in extorting my father.’ when it came to this, you had little sympathy for your father. He had plenty of money to spare and often spent it on ridiculous causes. A faux rescue of his only daughter could surely fit in between those other purchases.
There was a knock on the door, which Eddie welcomed, and Harrington walked in. 
‘Got any mail for me to deliver, cap?’ it had been unanimously agreed that Harrington was the most inconspicuous of the whole crew and would be able to walk through the city unbothered to deliver the message. 
You had just been in the middle of folding the parchment. The last thing left was to let the wax melt to keep the corners together. With the seal done, you handed Steve the letter. He smiled at you with thanks, but his face hid an expression of loss, almost. A farewell. But before he left, you clutched him in an embrace, almost knocking Steve over.
When the door closed behind him, it was only a matter of waiting. After your fifth round of pacing through the room, Eddie walked up in front of you, blocking your already quite well-outlined route. He had met you right in the middle. 
‘I would prefer if you did not spend our last moments together walking holes into my carpet.’ 
‘You do not have a carpet,’ you quipped. 
‘Must you be so difficult now?’ He laughed that laugh you cherished so much before he placed his hands on your cheeks and kissed you the way you adored even more. The sun was almost at its peak, and so was your heart, and you had no idea what to do when it would finally fall. Either way, you would find out in a few minutes.
‘Do you think—’ 
‘Highly doubtful,’ Eddie said somberly before you could even finish your thought. ‘You had said it yourself, darling; you are you, I am me. This is not meant to work.’ But what if it could, you wanted to shout, shocking yourself for the millionth time on board this ship.
‘Well, then it had been an honour being your captive, captain.’ You said with a deep breath to keep your composure up.
‘Oh, don’t look so sad just yet, princess, the real fun is only about to begin.’ At this statement, you blinked slowly. ‘Or did you think you were done aiding me?’
‘What else do you need me to do?’ 
‘Since you mentioned it, I think we need to make you look the part of my sweet captive. Make your father believe we really had kept you all good and locked up, hmm?’ He grinned. ‘I really did not do a good job at this, did I? Got you all spoiled up here.’
‘It was much appreciated.’ You giggled, incapable of keeping a straight face when Eddie got like this. Looking back, you could barely imagine the cold and dark exterior that he had once posed in front of you since he had been an entirely different person underneath that. Then again, so were you. ‘So, what did you have in mind?’
‘A lot,’ he licked his lips, ‘but I don’t think we have the time for that. We’ll probably have to do with tying you up like a pretty gift—just your hands, of course,’ he quickly added as he saw your eyes widen. ‘And I’ll be sure to not make it too tight.
‘Alright,’ you nodded. After all, you trusted him. You watched him look through the room for something to wrap around your hands. In the end, he found a piece of rope hanging among the many items on his wall. It was a bit too long for even the intricate, but relatively weak, knot he tied over your wrists—enough to give the impression of captivity, but in reality, barely grazed your wrists. He made sure to check. 
And then it was time. You walked out of the cabin for the final time. The room in which you had spent so many tumultuous days and nights. A silly part of you wanted to actually run down the ladder into the lower deck to see the holding cell one last time. For what reason, you could not fathom. 
Eddie guided you with a hand on your back, down the gangplank, which wobbled with every step you took. You tried to keep your breathing under control, but then again, if this had been a real threat to your life, you would probably feel similarly. The walk down the harbour was the longest of your life. There just came no end to it, and you could not, frustratingly enough, make your mind up if you wanted that or not. After all, each step closer to the port was one step further away from him… and when had you become so dependent on him? Weeks ago, you had thought up visions of killing him in his sleep; now, you could not think of life without him. 
Your thoughts were still fighting for some kind of cohesion when you saw him walk down the street. Accompanied by his usual entourage of guards. Two of them carried a large trunk between them, which must have been filled with gold or other treasures to meet the demand.
‘Papa!’ You screamed out; an incautious urge to run towards him propelled you forward, just to be pulled back by Eddie. You glanced his way, and your breath hitched at what you saw. In the short amount of time that might have felt like an eternity that it took you to walk down the harbour, he had turned into what you could only describe as his old self. The same version of him that you had seen when you were “welcomed’ aboard the Hellfire. The Eddie that terrorised your nightmares. His eyes were pointed like daggers at your father. 
He, in turn, stood aback at the sight of who had been holding you. Most of the men around him did, in fact. It caused a bit of a stir, the murmur of his name travelled in disbelief, but Eddie was the first to speak up in full volume.
‘Governor. I see we meet again.’
‘Munson.’ Your father always had the skill to look unimpressed at the sight of any man, always seeming to be above them, and even now, he did a good job hiding any other emotion, but you could see the crack of fear breaking him on the edges. It was, however, quickly replaced as he spoke in his usual tone of business.
‘Munson. What are you doing here?’
‘Why, returning your precious jewel, of course.’ He grinned, pulling you closer to him. Some of the guards leapt forward but were stopped by your father and Eddie, who reached for the knife at his side. All eyes were on you and him as he let the blade slowly track over your arm. ‘Don’t wanna do that, gents. It will only cost us more trouble.’ 
‘You got the gold, Munson, now let her go!’ There were still several feet between the two sides of the deal. Eddie looked around theatrically. 
‘Do I?’ He cocked his head in his own direction. The two men in charge of the trunk hauled it over to you. You had no idea how Eddie was meant to carry it back to the ship. As they brought the gold over, your father spoke again. 
‘Is she well? Unharmed?’ 
You nodded, but Eddie nudged you with the hilt of his knife, his lips against your ear, ‘C’mon, darling, the man’s asked you a question.’
‘I am fine, father.’ You spoke. By that point, the men reached you and, with a final kiss to your temple, Eddie let you go. You were immediately pulled out of his reach by the guards. They must have thought they were holding you up as your legs objected to moving. You were unable to look away from him. All up until you felt your face pressed against your father’s jacket. 
‘There, there, it is alright,’ he hushed, and it took you a moment to realise why. You were crying. And if only he, or anyone else, understood that it was for all the opposite reasons. No fear or relief was escaping you through those tears. It was a loss as you saw Eddie standing there, bowing down at the end of his performance, blowing you a kiss goodbye.
It was the panic when you saw the rest of the people in the harbour. All of their eyes on you. On him. None of them were simple bystanders or civilians. 
Your dream had been crumbling into ruin all these days, but this was the final blow. All of it came down, all at once, and it started with your father’s call.
‘Guards!’, and suddenly the tenfold of guards appeared out of all possible directions. They had him surrounded, weapons at the ready. Eddie had nowhere to run. Your father spoke clearly, cutting the silence with the blade of his words. ‘Munson, I arrest you on charges of murder and high treason!’ 
Chapter 10
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killersfool · 6 months
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hiiii i’ve a wee fluff imagine idea for bobby!! : )
bobby and the reader live together in a flat in dublin and the reader goes to trinity uni to study english literature (or smt else that has like a lot of reading and essay writing anol that craic) and she’s falling behind in a lot of her assignments and it’s all piling up and she’s just all overwhelmed and doesn’t know how to cope.
she ends up breaking down into sobs or shutting down at random points in the day due to stress and rob hasn’t got a clue what’s wrong and keeps noticing these random break downs throughout the week.
basically he comforts reader and helps to organise herself and just all fluffy cute comfort fic <333
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If I could flip back time, bend the seconds and go back three years ago, I would do it right now.
Pile after pile of flashcards, annotated books with pastel post-it notes shooting out of the sides, folders of Irish poetry I can hardly understand, tattered photocopies of Hozier lyrics, every work of Shakespeare staring at me from my overcrowded booksheld — dusty, messy, probably even dank. Miss Carter has decided to set three more assignments onto my workload for the week. An essay on crime fiction (I haven't even read the first book on the reading list), my creative writing portfolio and then another essay analysing a piece poetry of my choice. Reading and highlighting Hozier's lyrics of 'I, Carrion (Icarian)' is the only thing keeping me going. Phoebe Bridgers blasts through my ears. It's quarter to 11. I need a break. An early night would be nice. Or TV. But do I really want to sit next to Robert whilst he watches his weird YouTube videos?
I kick my table. Not out of anger. Not out of irritation. I just want to see all of my notes topple ontp the floor. They do. Then I'm kicking the table three more times. Or maybe eight. All my flashcards are on the carpeted  floor, next to my discarded, empty packet of pinballs. I'd stolen them from Robert's stash. He'll never find out.
Climbing over my pile of unread books by my doorway, I push open the door. It squeaks. Some oiling would be nice. Trinity college really provides the best for their students! 
I still wish my roommate was also doing English, someone to bond with over shared trauma, to gossip about our nightmarish teachers and fellow students. But no, this guy is doing a degree in bloody mathematics. The complete dichotomy of English. No similarities. No way of comparing the courses to eachother. Him and his terrifying videos that he watches with his shoes up on the armrest, cheek in his open palm, drinking a cup of tea. Like it's that simple. Numbers and sin, cos, tan and circle theorems and whatever tragic nonsense is being spouted in his lectures.
He hardly speaks to me. Three years together and I barely know him. Sometimes I tag along with him when he goes out for breakfast. Once every two weeks. Sunday morning. We talk about school, about friends, about anything that pops in our heads. Yesterday we spoke about music. He originally wanted to pursue a career in music. A band. But they didn't work out. He took a gap year to pursue this group. So he's a year older than all of the other third years. He doesn't let that faze him. When he told me stories about his band, 'Inhaler', I had to lose eye contact, look down at the pink marshmellos floating about in my cup. He looked lost. This wasn't the place for him. He missed the confidence upon stage, the ability of making something out of nothing. Life is unfair. That is when I realised it. Hearing about shattered dreams and names of songs that were never produced.
I also realise life is unfair right now, as I accidentally bang my hip onto the kicthen island, the knife-like corner lodging itself into my skin. It's like the world is against me. 
Sometimes I wonder if Robert thinks I'm an idiot. I feel like I'm an idiot when I walk past his bedroom, hunched over his laptop, headphones on as he works through the most difficult maths questions I've ever encountered in my life. He makes university seem easy. Has his allocated times for study, going out with friends, the gym, practicing bass, going though record shops, meals, watching TV. Everytime he gets home, he drops his things down in the kitchen. I sneak a glance at the big green 'A*' on all of his test papers. I look up to him. His intelligence, his masterful management of time. I'm always too frightened to ask him how he does it. He'll think I'm stalking him. 
Me, on the other hand, I waste time. I don't have balance. I never have time to be with my friends. Always locked up in my room. A prisoner. Essay after essay. Poem after poem. Book after book. A constant cycle I've been in for three whole years. The stress is weighing down on me like a hundred bags of bricks. I need to stop for a second. To breathe in. To calm down.
So I do the last thing I would normally do. I go into the living room and sit beside Robert on the sofa. He's half asleep, jeans cuffed, hair all over his face. He sees me walk in, glances up, eyes big and speculting. He instantly moves his spindly, spider-like legs from the armrest to give me some space. I can hear some sort of maths video playing on the TV. I'm scared. At least it's not English. I'm immune to maths. It doesn't affect me anymore. Whatever logorhythmic scale this American YouTube man is yapping about isn't making my face contort at all — it's like sorcery.
This could be a way of winding down. Maths. I'm calmer now. No changes of focus or narrowing of perspective. No pathetic fallacy or magical realism. Just messes of words that don't really make sense at all.
"'D'you want to watch TV? I can turn this off if you want." Robert has his thumb on the home button.
"Leave it on. I just need a moment."
He dubiously puts the remote back down. He yawns, stretching out his arms and leaning back. I hate it when boys do that. With his parted, manspreaded legs, adams apple bobbing, head rolled back. It's idiotic. Completely idiotic. He doesn't seem too intrigued by Mr American man. The video is a guy next to a whiteboard writing millions of brain-numbing equtions. Robert is nodding along. I think I'm going to cry. I don't know why I want to right now. My hip is actually starting to throb and ache. I look down at my jeans. There's a hole in them. There's blood. It's wet. I hadn't noticed before. It's properly pouring out blood.
"Fuck. Fuck. Fuck." I exclaim, hand pressing down onto the cut through my jeans.
Robert swiftly nears me. He's looking at me up and down, hands trying to find a place to move to. It's dark in the room. He reaches for the lamp switch. "What is it? Are you okay?"
"I'm bleeding. Jesus christ. That kills. Fuck me."
He passes me his jacket and says, "Apply some pressure." 
Then he runs out of the room. Fast as a plane. A man on a mission. Long curls dancing to the rhythm of his steps. Mr American man won't shut up about algebraic expressions. He's got a really bald head. Glimmering. 
Robert is back. He has bandages. I don't know where he got those from. Antiseptic wipes, plasters, sweets, even a cup of tea. He was only gone for about five seconds. How did he manage to get all of that? He hands me the cup of tea and sweets whilst asking, "What happened?"
"I walked into the island like an eejit. I'm so feckin' stupid."
"Just breathe, okay. You're not an eejit. I do that every day." 
I have to unzip my jeans to let him check the cut. Which is awkward, to say the least. He's looking at me like a doctor — not really caring about seeing my skin — but I'm still so shy around him. He sees me struggle with the button. He undoes it, fingers coming in contact with mine. They're slender. So very perfect for the bass guitar. Then he's unzipping my jeans. Only the tiniest bit. A mere centimetre of my knickers appear out of the top. Any more than that and I'd be flush as a tomato. I've always had a little crush on Robert. Being stuck with a really smart bass guitarist with the dreamiest eyes for three years is enough to make a person fall. The reason I've been avoiding him lately has been due to that fact. I don't want to make it obvious.
He finds the cut. It's bled through my knickers, making a big blot of dark red. He pulls down the waistband of my pants, prepared to wipe the wound. I have to grind my teeth together to prevent a sob from escaping me. I'm crying. Stressed and hurt and just wanting to dissolve into nothing. The cold draft of wind isn't improving the situation. If only there was no such thing as coursework and I couldn't glide my way through university like Robert. 
More and more blood. I think I might pass out. The blue-eyed boy is knelt down on the floor, knees biting into the carpet so that he can properly see where to put the bandage. 
"So how's English going?" He's not looking at me. Only at the wound. I don't think he's noticed that I'm crying. I don't want him to. I cover my face with bloody hands, accidentally smearing the metallic substance onto my nose. 
I don't know what to say. Do I tell him how much I regret picking it? Do I make this already awkward situation about ten times worse? I hate when people pity me. I hate when I feel like eyes are lingering for far too long when I cry. But when Robert looks at me, it's different. The pools of serenity circling his iris aren't looking down at me with a sort of aristocracy. That's how my English peers stare me down. No, instead, he's looking at me like there's a billion questions rushing across his forehead. He just needs to decide which one to ask. Or to simply say nothing. Like I am. We've both learnt how to cohabit in silence. To walk past eachother and ignore the feathers of conversation falling between us. We're busy. Always busy. Except for those perfect Monday mornings that I always look forward to. Especially the one time when he showed me around his favourite record store. He had asked me to choose him a record to buy. I walked through the entire shop, fingers shifting records, reading unfamiliar artist names. Then, I saw it, the — now bane of my existence — Hozier's 'unreal unearth'. He bought it. He'd told me he only really knew 'Take Me To Church'. I'd leant against the till as he paid and said, 'it'll change your life.' Then he'd locked himself in his room. Through the ever so thin walls — paper thin — I could hear each track hum into my room. I never got the chance to talk to him about the album. I think the thought of bringing it up made me feel sick — due to the English essay upstairs still waiting patiently to be finished.
Now there is an excuse. To talk. I'm injured. I don't want to move. He's still attempting to wrap a bandage over my stomach, then across my back until it's around my torso. I feel his fingers graze my skin with every subtle movement, along my spine, the small of my back, my abdomen, my hip bone. He's still looking at me. Searching. Like I'm a new island and he's an explorer trying to name me.
"What's up, sweetheart?" He finally talks again. His words are throaty, emananting from the pits of his throat. He's still wrapping, waiting for an answer.
"Just college. You know. It's killing me."
He shakes his head. "You're so smart."
"Says you."
He shakes his head. "Look, this might be a bit weird but sometimes when you leave random essays lying around or even creative writing. I read them. They're incredible. Your mind just works in such an interesting way."
I'm at a loss for words. He reads those? Those are usually just failed attempts that I toss aside. Scrap paper. Strange drawings. I don't even want to look at them.
"You get top grades in every test," I sigh. "I'm barely passing. I'm the worst in the class. My professors hate me, I've got so much work, I'm falling behind in every assignment—"
Then I'm properly crying. Sobbing. Breathing so heavily I think I might collapse. Heaving. Sniffling. Covering my face so he can't see me. I'm like a child. Pathetic. Stupid. Worthless. I was never good enough for Trinity. Why did they let me in?
Warm arms, press of skin. Just above the wound, over my chest, arms dig into my body, hugging me from behind. Head burrowing onto my shoulders, knees into the sofa. His lips ghost the back of my neck. Tears are falling down. He turns me around to face him. I hate how he's seeing me like this. My cries are usually saved for when he's out with friends or blasting music on his record player. He's never seen me this vulnerable, just utterly ripped into shreds by the hands of life. His scent is making me feel better, the tissue now on my cheek makes me feel better, the quiet words of 'breathe, let it all out, it's okay' make me feel better. He's calming me down. I start to forget what I was even crying about when I look into his eyes. This intense eye contact. Remembering his height. Even sat down, his torso is far longer than mine.
"I've got an idea," he murmurs, peeling his body away. I miss the warmth. I miss the touch. 
"What is it?"
"We should go somewhere. Get out for a bit. Say it's a 'mental health field trip'." He curls his fingers to accentuate the apostrophes."Maybe down to the Cliffs of Moher. When you're all healed up of course."
"Give me a week."
"A week? I'll be the judge of that." He raises an eyebrow, now tying up the bandage.
"Where did you learn all this?"
"I'm actually first aid trained. Did it in my first week of uni." He takes a deep breath, settles back onto the sofa. 
I take a sip of my tea. My eyes are surely blotchy and red. I bet there's mascara all over my face. "Thank you so much."
"No problem at all. Do you want to tell me what's going on? Is there any way I can help?" He's referring to my school work. "I was alright at English in high school. No where near as good as you are. But maybe another opinion might help you."
"I'm really stuck on a Hozier analysis."
"I never told you how much I love that album. It's perfect." His eyes glow like they do when he's talking about something he loves. Usually it's caused by talking about playing bass, but right now it's due to the beauty of Hozier's music. "I learned the bass line of De Selby part two."
"Show me. Now." I don't even ask. It's simply a demand. Anything to take my mind away from that cut still bleeding profusely. A little concert would be nice. Especially if said concert involves watching Robert play bass. I sometimes peek through the crack in the doorway to see him sat down on his bed, pick between his index and thumb, bass guitar on his lap, headphones over his ears. The pure concentration on his face is unparalleled. Notes thrum quietly through the room. He falls into any piece of music.
"Alright." He laughs at my enthusiasm. "Then I'll help with your English."
"Thanks." This is probably the most I've ever spoken to him. I'm mumbling each word, not wanting to look into his eyes.
He disappears once again. This time I hear the thudding footsteps over creaky floorboards. I hear a door squeak open, the faint patter of rain upon the ceiling, the quiet murmur of distant sirens as night blooms. It's tranquil. For a moment, I'm at peace. Until I remember the stack of unread books in my bedroom. I groan into my hands. Everything just keeps getting worse and worse and—
He's back. Not empty handed. Bass in one hand, Hozier lyrics and my pencil case in the other.
"I emailed your professor about the trip. I'm sure she'll be okay with it." He's off again. He comes through the door with his amp and lead. He plugs both in. 
"You're a life saver, Rob," I say.
He starts twisting around the knobs on the bass. Volume up. Then he's tuning. He smiles up at me. I think I'm staring. I think he can tell. His long fingers, tattoos, rings. It's all too much. My fingers are restlessly tapping the armrest. My legs are up on the coffee table. He pulls out his phone and plays the song. Then I'm lost in the music. His eyes are closed as he slides his fingers up and down the neck of the bass, as he stomps his feet down on the carpet to every drum beat. If only I could go back to the days I'd go to concerts every day. If only I could go back and see 'Inhaler' on a world tour, watch Robert from the crowd, completely in his element. Exhilarated, chanting, knowing every lyric like it's my mother tongue. Sometimes I wonder what life could've been like if the band had worked out. If the world did realise just how incredible they are. But, here, appreciating each pluck of every string, the grin as he watches me. I can't take that for granted. 
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ervona · 10 months
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I was tagged by @nuwanders @wispstalk @profanetools @ghoulsbeard @aphoticfairy whew!!! thank you :D
now tagging @scuttling-void @morgiah @trinimac @libertineangel @kagrenacs + anyone who wants to, tried to see who already did it!
this tag game is about writing excerpts and I'll be taking them from my tes fest 23 fics, since they're new and I like how they turned out
A line from your fic that makes you laugh
“You tell me, with the way you went up, I suppose you’re a trained acrobat.” At least he had put away the knife, though the suspicion was going to be a harder bargain, no thanks to his own conduct. “I am an ordinary mortal, so springy for I was born in springtime.” (Day 4)
I hadn't put grown up Tredayn to paper before so I hoped to deliver his personality, and a bit of his parents' memorable characteristics. being bad at hiding his intentions and hitting you with such a dumb line somewhat nervously is perfect. also since the brothers are from Morrowind they must carry the burden of the game mechanic jokes. the following line about his birthday isn't as funny to me, it's moreso where the comedic tension between them falls. it's sad at that point
A line from your fic that makes you sad
The sky would take on each color of bruise soon enough, and having had her meal of scrib jerky she could only sit in silence with the offerings, wringing her hands with faint scratches left on them until it was time to conduct the ritual, perhaps on her own. There was no sorrow in that, for it made her holy bond even more special. (Day 2)
I tend to write characters who are very social, but faced with bouts and longer periods of soul-draining loneliness... Aranea is relatively comfortable up on her mountain compared to them, still the story here is a deep well of loneliness surrounded by joy and celebration. Aranea is beloved by her community but she could not truly be part of it. she never had much of a community around her as a sorceress before becoming a priestess, and she literally sees herself as too far gone now and more suited to stay a hermit dedicated to only Azura
A line from your fic you're proud of
Ancient bones distorted as in a dream were stuck in the glacial gullet of Hsaarik; less ancient ones lay half-buried in the snowdrift. Deep below the lights of the city, falling prey to something sharp was far too easy, but the fog of breath held no fear. She took the hand offered to her aglow in purpureal light and her step became lighter still, they could skip across the water like stones. (Day 1)
my first published tesfest entry, my beloved. I'm very fond of this bit because I have trouble visualizing and describing things, but it's still very lush to me, it conjures up such a magical feeling and makes me happy. it simply conveys the warmth between them in the eerie cold
A line for your fic you think could have been better
The king was dead. He was not the first Nordic tyrant to burn, though he was one of the few living–or unliving–men to receive such a simplified Dunmeri funeral. His killer wasn’t quite living either, but one was ash scattered over the sea, and the other was just floating face-down among the ice floes; a twist on the usual Morndas. (Day 4)
the goal here was as usual double meaning because he was already un/dead before being killed and it's me messing with how language around vampires has been used in the series. so the killer is another vampire, a Dunmer, burning an already dead man... a simple funeral without anything else it should contain. it reads so awkwardly and I don't hate it as much anymore but I wish it was a bit more refined...
A line from your fic that makes you want to punch a character
She nibbled on a wickwheat biscuit as Uncle seemed to continue what he’d been talking about, his newly established netch ranch, the fine leather it brought, and she bit her tongue in frustration. Him and his blood-stained netch leather and the yoke that pulled lives and souls asunder.  (Day 7)
the secret sauce here that genuinely makes me angry was my own exasperation at many people around me. it just works like a charm!
A line from your fic that makes you go 'aww'
She hiccuped, and more than ever looked a mirror image of the bearling he found in the snow so long ago as if yesterday. A century could pass and she remained his baby, and he remained sworn to all ancestors and itinerant spirits to care for her. And she was shaking with worry, each tear reflecting a star. He wanted to cry with her too, even if it stained his spectacles. (Day 3)
beloved by readers, and so true. this whole story is full of moments that qualified so close here, so I picked out one. Llether is adorable, Merry even more so, and their relationship means so much to me :')
A line from your fic that's full of symbolism
Father ate rather delicately to not stain his bead-woven beard and mustache, and his younger brother followed the lead, though prior stabbing his cooked ornada without grace. The knife he sliced with, dueling the carapace, was as her cutlery gilt and engraved to go along with the ebony plating. Overhead the chandelier of green glass hung as a sword pointed at them, a thousand shimmering blades. (Day 7)
sword of dadmocles real. you have a sort of chain action going from Vedam to Orvas to Ilmeni and even as she doesn't describe her own eating habits, she is not perfectly self aware but she's also not right when portraying them in her mind as being in different worlds... the air of violence between them is at its highest in this moment though clearly restrained and some being less restrained than others. whew
A line from your fic that contains an Easter egg
She strode on the lookout for fish, drinking in the horizon that would at some point give way to the nascent sun.  In that direction, a once mighty craft cracked in twain on long since melted ice, since then picked clean by beasts and priests. They’d searched it up and down already, finding what they sought and the years had gone by until it was of little interest but a grim omen.  (Day 1)
they're north of Winterhold, east of it lies the Pride of Tel Vos which unfortunately was shipwrecked even in the au. I deliberated long on how to introduce Brand-Shei and whether to introduce Hidrya Olen. ended up going with neither, because I didn't get how and when she claimed the journal but she probably got on the ship to flee from the war. Brand-Shei is not identified beyond this and some clues at this point he's uncertain of himself on all terms. calling him by either of his known names didn't feel right for me, for him or for Merry here
A line from your fic that's shocking
One ought to know that a nix-hound was no match for a kagouti, such a spindly thing in comparison. But when a pack of nixes descended together, they could best the mightiest kagouti and leave nothing but bones. All creatures wished to survive, and some of them even wove secret arts through intricate magics to further lengthen their lives, but that didn’t necessarily keep them safe from harm. The tower would outlive its maker, and in turn make good use of him. (Day 5)
local mer harvested for his daedric armor. to be frank I find a lot of this tepid acceptance around Divayth Fyr to be annoying, and the insistence that nothing could have possibly killed him, so he's still alive. how about four of him unionizing against him, like it's hard... really the point of this story's introduction is for one to recognize a character with a big reputation then witness him casually killed off
A line from your fic you want to talk about more
“Hear me now, not because you are of my blood, but if it flows from out of a good heart,” she finally whispered back to him, not through the fire, through the very air itself. “Do not fear to wander, if your cause is just. Perhaps you could do right by what I gave my life for.” (Day 6)
Ervona Ules :) that's who I named myself after, I had adopted little Mavus at that point. the whole conversation between them is very telling of both characters but this refered to our primary source on Ervona, her student Melar Sadus. she was an interesting noble mer who fought against injustice and met a tragic end from it, Mavus is someone who may bring her legacy back. but will he? she definitely inspired him to grow beyond his comfort zone and listening to what his mother and mentor tell him. this is the heart of the prompt to me and I wanted to write it ever since I put Bound in a Bouquet out here, the older Mavus you see there is a product of the events in this story and of course Morrowind that happens in between. you'll see more...
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weasleywinchester · 1 year
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I Can't Help Myself - Ch. 5
Leaving Just You Picture Behind
Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 | Ch. 4| Ch.6
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What is this thing called free time??? I managed to write another chapter for this series! I can't believe it's almost done!! And before the show comes out this month!! We get a little time jumpy in this chapter, mainly because I am following the timeline of the games. We also go from super cute parent/ellie vibes to sad vibes. mainly because I don't want to write the sad ending, but the little thing in my brain says I should... so I'm going to write sad ending and happy ending because this is my fic and yall are going to have to choose what ending you want to read, of course you can always read both. Thank you to everyone who's given this series a read, I love seeing you make your way through each chapter! And still taggin @sarahbellesaurus because you liked part 4 so here's part 5!
Series Summary:
This world isn’t kind to anyone; and heaven forbid anyone wants a slice of happiness. You wanted the stereotypical, as most people would tell you, dream of falling in love, getting married and having kids. After coming to Jackson, you kept that dream to yourself. Until your stupid best friend’s stupidly handsome older brother waltzes in, and you tell him. Joel thinks it's nice that you can hold onto a dream like that... and he let's his guard down just long enough to think maybe...he might want that too.
Chapter Summary: Thankful, Grateful, Blessed. In the world before it almost felt like those words haunted you; from stores to friends houses to birthday gifts. And then once the infection hit, it felt like the mocked you as you scavenged through houses, trying to survive. But maybe now, the could be some of the few words to describe your life. Warnings: All the feels, TLOU Pt. 2 spoilers, fighting (vocal and physical), illusions to death
A Year Later
“Momma!” Ellie shouts as she lets herself into the house.
“Upstairs!” You shout back. You can hear her take the steps two at a time, slowing as she reaches the doorway to your office.
“What’s shakin’ sugarpie?” You look up from the quilt you’re making, giving her a little smile.
“Where’s Billy?” She nods to the empty playpen next to your desk.
“He’s with Joel and Tommy.” You chuckle, kicking a pile of fabric off a stool so she can sit down.
“Bit young for a boys day out.” She softly chuckles.
“Never too early to get them out of my hair. But what did you want to ask me?” Your sewing machine softly whirs as you continue your project.
“I was talkin with Cat… about getting a tattoo.” She shrugs. Lots of people in town had them, and Cat was a pretty amazing tattoo artist. She learned from her uncle, who was an artist before the infection.
“Over the acid burn?” You nod. It was something you both had talked about. Ellie found it absolutely hilarious that you had a tiny knife tattoo on your middle finger, and ever since she saw it she wanted a tattoo.
“Ya… I was hoping you’d help me design one.” Your machine stops and Ellie looks up to see your look of surprise.
“Really?” You ask, the corners of your mouth gently tugging into a smile.
“Ya. You’re an amazing artist, with some of the best designs. And I want it to be a reminder.” She swallows hard, eyes focusing on the floor.
“Reminder of…” you prod.
“Of my family.” She shrugs again.
“I love that.” You smile, quickly packing up everything on your desk so you have space to work. You tell Ellie to throw a record on, while you pull out all your art books. You both flip through pictures, tabbing things that catch your eye.
“You still have your wedding dress?” Ellie asks as she flips through an old catalog. 
“Ya, in the closet. Why?”
“It had a fern design didn’t it?” She looks over to you, a smile slowly appearing. You quickly dig it out, putting it on the table. Both of you draw a few variations and compare.
“Think this one.” She points to one of hers. The fern is fully inked in, many tiny leaves on each stem.
“Ok, one piece down.” You sloppily recreate it on your own sketchbook, doodling around it.
“So you have a piece of me… maybe a piece of the mom you never got to meet?” You ask gently. Ellie nods slowly, trying to rack her brain for something.
“What about something like this?” You turn your book to her. You’ve drawn a different type of fern, but this one is just a simple outline. “Mine’s filled in, because we’ve gotten to live a life together, we’ve filled in a lot of gaps. Hers is an outline, a life lived before and for you, but not with you.”
Ellie gently reaches for your book, fingers gently tracing the outline. She hardly thought about her birth mom lately, only turning to her journal in empty nights alone.
“Do you ever think about her?” Ellie asks.
“I do.” Ellie’s eyes flick to your face. “I only know what you’ve shared. But somewhere deep in my bones I can feel her; mainly guiding me through your temper. I hope wherever she is, she’s content with how Joel and I have tried to take care of you.”
Ellie soaks in your words. She thought about what her mom might say to Joel, how she would thank him for keeping her safe. Or maybe how she’d lay into him for stopping the fireflies. But she hadn’t thought what would happen if she met you. A stranger that was the only one who ever felt like home.
“She’d be thankful, for everything. Much like I am.” Ellie pats your hand.
“Thanks Sugarpie.” You lay your hand on top, taking a deep breath in. “Feel like you need one more piece.”
“I already know what it is.” She sighs.
_______
“How’s your ink?” Joel chuckles. The dirt crutches beneath his feet as he guides you along the patrol route.
“Healin’ nicely.” You pull him down to you, kissing him on the cheek. He gently takes your arm, turning it to reveal your tattoos.
“Can’t believe my own son stole my nickname.” He playfully grumbles as his fingers gently caress the little bumble bee that sits on top of a lavender flower.
“Who else could ever be worthy?” You giggle.
“I guess that’s true.” He gives you a kiss, letting his lips linger for just a second more. It’s the moments like these that he remembers best. The way you smile at him, how you dance in the sunlight, the way the breeze carries you laugh.
“Have you seen Ellie’s?” You quietly ask, threading your fingers through his.
“Much bigger than both of yours.” He nods. It wasn’t much of a shock that she got one, she always liked the one on your finger. He was a little surprised it wasn’t anything Savage Starlight related though.
“We designed it together.” You tell him, “You like the moth?”
“Reminds me of the one on my guitar.” He flashes a smile, pulling your hand up to his lips and kissing the tips of your fingers.
“‘Cause it is.” You whisper. His eyes narrow at you, not sure what you’re playing at. “All I’m sayin’ is don’t stop trying. She’s comin around. There’s too much between you to let that all go forever.” You press your lips to his, smiling when he pulls you close.
"And you didn't want a matchin' one?" He chuckles.
"And miss the opportunity to permanently adorn my skin with a Joel Miller original weapon design?" You laugh, flashing the little pipe with scissors taped to the top.
"Only you Darlin'." He shakes his head, grabbing you and smothering you in a kiss.
_______ 
A Year Later
“(Y/N), your terror is pullin’ on the lights again!” Tommy shouts from the top of his ladder.
“Mmm, can’t help it if Billy loves his uncle!” You shout from behind the bar. You look around at the team putting together the dance hall. It looks so magical with all the lights strung everywhere, the warm glow of the fire.
“Come here munchkin.” Ellie sighs, picking him up as he giggles in excitement. He wraps his little arms around her, trying to grab her hair that’s been scraped into a ponytail. She moves it out of the way, giving him a silent no.
"Pie!" He giggles as her fingers tickle his sides.
"Got you booger." She chuckles as he giggles louder.
“We gunna see you at the dance tonight?” You ask, leaning around her to smile at Billy. He gives you a toothy grin, tucking his head into his sister's neck.
“Uh… maybe” Ellie shrugs. Things have been a little less tense with Joel, she’s managed to keep herself in line for the sake of you and Billy;  but she still tries to keep her distance. “Who’s babysittin?”
“Molly next door. She said she wants practice.” You chuckle as Billy reaches for you. You take him from her, bouncing him as you hand Tommy the rest of the lights.
“I heard Dina is newly single.” You say low enough for only her to hear. She hums in acknowledgment, which makes you smile. They were always friends but Ellie started lookin at her a bit differently after Dina started hopping from boyfriend to boyfriend, and yet always ended up stumbling to Ellie’s every time she broke up with them.
“Remember what I told you the night Joel proposed?”
“That you love us?” She smartly remarks. You shake your head and lean over to her.
“That you have to dance with the people you love at least once.” You wink.
_______
“I don’t need your help Joel!” Ellie yells. You quickly make your way around the bar, closing the space between you and him but he quickly turns and brushes past you.
“Joel!” You call after him, your body following but your eyes glued on Ellie. You give her an apologetic look, running after your husband. As you stumble outside you see Joel making his way toward home, but Maria is standin' across the street with-
“Seth!” You yell, calmly walking over to him.
“You gunna claim her as yours you need to get her-” He spits as you slam your shin right into his crotch before he can finish.
“(Y/N)!” Maria warns. You ignore her, throwing a jab to his eye and the heel of your hand up his nose. The force is enough to knock him flat on his ass, the snow around dotted with red.
“Stay away from my daughter you jackass!” You scream, kicking him for good measure and running off to find your husband.
“Joel!” You shout after him, jogging as fast as you can to catch him.
“She’s made it clear she doesn’t want anything to do with me.” He yells over his shoulder.
“That’s not true…”
“Then what the hell was that in there?” He whips around so fast you startle, tripping over your own feet and landing flat on your ass.
“Ow.” You wince.
“Sorry Darlin.” Joel sighs, helping you to your feet. He helps brush the snow off you, grunting as you wrap yourself around him. You put your chin on his chest and wait until he looks down at you.
“She’s trying to figure out where she fits in Honeybunch. And it constantly feels like it’s not here.” Joel pulls your hood up, tightening the cords as he mulls over your words. “She came to the dance…”
“Not for us.”
“No teenager goes to a community function for family. Does that matter anyways? Not everyone can be as… lucky as us. She’s gotta find her way, in her own time.” You pucker your lips at him, which makes him roll his eyes as he gives you a kiss.
“How do you do that?” He mumbles against your mouth.
“What?” You smile against his.
“Get my head out of my ass.” He presses another kiss to your lips, his tongue gently sliding along the seam of yours, both of you humming happily as your tongues tangle.
 “I was coming to see if y’all were ok, and clearly you are.” Tommy chuckles. You begrudgingly unseal your mouth from Joel, shooting Tommy a glare.
“Momma!” Billy lurches in Tommy’s arms for you.
“Come here honey bee.” You take Billy, laughing as he burrows his face in your neck.
“I’ll meet you back at the house.” You tell Joel, tilting your head for his kiss goodbye.
“Want me to take Billy?” He gives you a quick peck, gently rustling Billy's hair.
“Nah, we’re gunna go see Sugarpie.” You tell Billy, who gives a small yea in response. Joel gives you a curt nod, walking back inside with Tommy. You watch for a minute and then quickly make the trek home.
You knock on Ellie’s door, happy when she lets you in.
“I have an early patrol.” She states.
“And I have half a mind to smack you.” You cheerfully tell her as you set Billy on her bed.
“I don’t need his help.” She huffs, sitting at her desk.
“I know, and it doesn’t matter.” You sit on the crate across from her. “Ellie, he’s your dad for all intents and purposes. He’s always going to want to help you, protect you, be there for you. None of that stops simply because you want it to.” You watch as she picks at a loose thread on her pants.
“Sugar, we don’t know when our last days are. Don’t let the last words you say to people you love be ones you regret.” You gently put your hand on her arm. Her green eyes turn to you, knowing that, like usual, you’re right.
_______
The Next Morning
“Hey, I gotta stop at the house.” Ellie tells Dina as they make their way to the stables.
“Ya, sure.” Dina shrugs following after her. Ellie slowly makes her way up the porch, letting herself in.
“Pie!” Billy yells in delight from the living room.
“Hey B.” She gives him a kiss as you come around the corner.
“His shift already started.”
“You responsible for the black eye?” Ellie questions. Maria made Seth apologize to her this morning, not that it did anything to make her feel better. It did warm Ellie's heart to see Seth's big black eye. Maria wouldn’t say who did it, which meant it wasn't Tommy or Joel. And of course Seth would have told everyone if it was Joel, and he would never admit if you were the one to beat him up.
“That all he walked away with?” You frown, trying your best to keep your smile at bay. Ellie rolls her eyes, wrapping you in a hug.
“Think your route crosses path with his, maybe say hello…” You give her one last squeeze before letting her go.
“You mean sorry.”
“Smarter then you look sugarpie.” You pat her shoulder and spin her toward the door. “Make sure to stay warm, keep your eyes peeled.”
“Do you think he would... want to watch a movie tonight?” Ellie quietly asks, opening the door and giving you one last hug.
“I think he’d love that.” You smile, waving to Dina, who flashes a smile. Ellie quickly walks down the stairs, turning to give you one last wave.
“Watch her Dina!” You yell. You assume Ellie rolled her eyes by the way Dina laughs.
_______
“(Y/N)!”
You turn to see Jeremy running toward you, a look of worry on his face.
“Jer, what’s wrong?” You catch him as he slows to a stop.
“Jesse radioed in, Joel and Tommy never checked in. And there were strangers spotted not too far out of town.”
“Ellie?”
“Jesse went to find her and Dina. They’re going to cover the route, figured you’d want to be on the scout team too.”
You can feel the panic rise in your chest; you take Jeremy by the hand and run into the barn.
“Woah there-” Maria chuckles.
“Can you watch Billy?” You ask, trying your best to saddle your horse.
“(Y/N)... what’s wrong?”
“Can you watch Billy?” You ask louder.
“Ya sure.” She nods, backing up as you mount your horse and take off on the trail. You ride hard to the ridge that surrounds the mountain lodge; it was a place that Joel and Tommy frequented when they wanted to play their instruments in peace. You’re not sure why they would end up there in this bad weather, but something was telling you to start there. As you reach the ridge you leave your horse in a nearby stable.
Jeremy managed to keep up, quietly following you as you scuttle toward the edge. You belly crawl the rest of the way, using the scope of your gun to see down below.
“Anything?” Jeremy whispers.
“Two of our horses, lots of people outside. Burned infected at the gate” You whisper back.
“Clear up here.” He confirms. You can feel him sit by your feet, his back to you so he can keep watch.
You try to calm your breathing, watching as the people outside patrol the lodge. Your scope moves to the large windows at the front, and you can see him. You watch as a girl not much older than Ellie shoots Joel in the leg. You jerk, feeling Jeremy keep you in place.
“What’s happening?” He harshly whispers.
“Joel’s been shot.” You push past your teeth. You watch, seeing the flash of something silver come in contact with Joel’s face. That’s when you see her. Her little brown pony tail poking out of her hood. Ellie, get out of there.
“Be ready.” you whisper, taking a deep breath in and cocking your gun. You hear Jeremy do the same. The girl winds up once more and you pull the trigger. The shot rings out, scaring the horses below and sending the guards scrambling. You manage to shoot several of them, the pure white snow now a river of red.
You turn back to the lodge window, seeing two people dragging the girl, one dragging Ellie and two more dragging Joel. You let two more shots fly; one hits one of the people dragging Joel and the other gets the person dragging Ellie right in the neck.
“Jeremy?” you whisper, panic rising in your throat.
“Clear.” He whispers back.
You let a few more shots fly until the group drops Joel and Ellie, fleeing into their vehicles. You scramble back from the hillside and dig out your radio.
“Heather, do you copy?”
“Copy.”
“Lodge trail. Light it up NOW.” You yell. Jeremy peels you away, leading you back to the horses. You can hear gunshots in the distance, hoping that it did some damage. You quickly ride down to the lodge, staying close to Jeremy as you both make it inside. He does a quick sweep, coming for you when it’s clear.
You hear her before you see them, her sobs bouncing off the walls and deep into your skull.
“Ellie.” You engulf her in your arms, blood smearing across your jacket as you try to calm her.
“Back-up is on the way.” Jeremy whispers, keeping his eyes on the windows.
“Move her into the next room, away from the windows.” You command, pushing Ellie into Jeremy’s arms. Her scream is like a baby being ripped away from their parents, you can feel it vibrate your bones. Calm, stay calm. You take a deep breath and turn to Joel. He’s bloody, his shallowing breathing matching the pace of your heart.
“(Y/N)?”
You turn to see Tommy slumped against the wall.
“We got people on the way.” you nod.
_______
“Ellie?”
You startle at the unexpected voice, moving to your hiding spot along the wall.
“Shit.” You hear two sets of feet scramble, immediately going to Joel.
“Dina? Jesse?” You stand up, your brain not quite believing your eyes.
“(Y/N), what the fuck happened?” Jesse asks, arms reaching for you.
“Ellie’s in the next room, grab her and get back to Jackson. She’s a little roughed up but she’ll make it.” You rub his arms, like a mom warming up her kid from the cold.
“Joel…” Dina asks.
“Can’t do anything until the cavalry is here." You glance at him, "Please, take Ellie and ride as fast as you can.” You swallow both of them in a hug. You take a deep shaky breath, gasping to keep the sob inside.
“I’ll stay.” Jesse whispers. “Dina can take Ellie.” 
“No! No.” You take both of them and lead them to the next room. “You have to watch each other, we don’t know if anyone is hanging around.” You gently shake Ellie, helping her stand and handing her off to Dina.
“We’ll make sure to put the whole town on alert.” Dina nods, helping Ellie out of the lodge. Jesse gives you one last hug, handing you his snacks and jogging after his friends.
_______
The mumbling. You’ve always hated when people talked in hushed tones, as if you didn’t know what they were talking about, or who. It didn’t help that the storm outside had settled, leaving the trees to groan in the silence, the snow to snapping the weakest limbs.
“(Y/N).” Jeremy’s voice is gentle, his hand resting on your shoulder. Your voice is lost in your throat; so you simply turn your head toward him.
“We have to move him.”
Your eyes turn back to Joel, his lungs wheezing with every breath. Silent tears blur your vision, a fat drop falling on Joel’s sleeve as you nod. 
Jeremy helps you to stand, making a note that you’ll need a set of new clothes before you go back to town. You’d scare the shit out of everyone with how much blood you have down the front of you. A few people come in with a stretcher, staring at the state Joel is in.
“Be careful.” Jeremy tells them, snapping everyone out of their daze. The four of you move Joel, trying your best to be quick and gentle.
“Blankets.” You mumble, gathering the few that were found in the cupboards and wrapping Joel. The two gently lift the stretcher and take him outside where the covered wagon is waiting.
“Ready?” Jeremy asks.
“Be right up.” You swallow hard. You listen as his footsteps fade down the hall, the door quietly closing. You look up to see the golf clubs still sitting in their bag. You walk over, taking out the one with the biggest head. You twirl it around, feel the weight of it in your hands, and start swinging.
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yunatheintrovert · 3 years
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hihi!! this is not a request just curious on your thoughts of what if bell had been programmed to be adler’s wife. like if in uncovering her mind they learned about her relationship with Perseus and tried to invoke those memories and dig info out in that approach. best of both worlds in the worst possible way
Ohhh that’s a really interesting idea, anon! Also, I am currently sleepy right now and have yet to have any coffee this morning, so I’m really sorry if I’m misinterpreting you saying that Bell’s relationship with Perseus is romantic in this AU. XD. Honestly, I love the idea! It makes for some twisted Adler/Bell content while also giving some potential for ruthless/vengeful!Perseus going after the CIA in order to get Bell back to his side. 
The way I headcanon it, Bell seems to be very loyal to those close to her. So Bell being programmed into Adler being closest to her as her “husband” makes sense actually. At the same time, it does make it harder for there to not be slip-ups. 
Imagine Bell casually mentioning or talking about one of the memories she had with Adler to one of the team members in the safehouse. Perhaps, the team member is trying to hide their reaction to hearing that misconception since Adler was actually away on a mission at the time. If the team member is Lazar who knows from Sims that Adler was away on a mission during that time, maybe there would be some awkwardness going on until Adler conveniently appears, pushing away Bell’s confusion in her mind with a comforting arm around her waist. 
In addition, there is definitely some potential for an overlap in parallels between Adler and Perseus in Bell’s mind. Bell could have mysterious dreams of Russian being spoken to her as a large warm hand cupped her cheek affectionately. Perhaps, some nights she is at Adler’s side, she mistakenly murmurs something in Russian absent-mindedly in her sleep and while she doesn’t notice, Adler does. Maybe, when that happens, Adler would be more affectionate to divert Bell’s attention back to him and away from Perseus…
In regards to the twisted Adler/Bell potential for this AU idea, there is the question of how far does Adler go in his relationship with Bell in the idea and what kind of affection he gives her in order to keep her memories in order. Furthermore, it is interesting to think about the idea of Adler effectively developing Lima Syndrome towards Bell. After all, it’s hard for him to not make it personal when he’s acting the role of the husband towards her and Bell believing wholeheartedly that they are married. 
Another thing I can’t help but think of are the Vietnam memories for this idea. I believe it’s implied in canon that the time in Vietnam was traumatic for Bell in her implanted memories. Thus, perhaps a possible MK Ultra-implanted backstory between Bell and Adler for this idea is them having served in Vietnam together in MACV-SOG, going through hell and back together over there during the war. When they returned home, Bell (who was in the military, not the CIA at this point) could have had PTSD along with her being lost on not quite knowing what to do. Maybe she and Adler grew closer during this time back home and he even supported her in helping her find a job at the CIA as an analyst. They’d continue to grow closer before eventually marrying. 
Another interesting thing to think about is there being a dichotomy between the implanted memories Bell has of her past with Adler and the interaction she has with Adler during missions and in the safehouse. Two things could happen: 1) Adler was actually more distant in the past (in the implanted memories specifically) with him being more affectionate now in order to keep her in line. 2) Adler was more affectionate in the past and less affectionate now because he can’t exactly replicate the kind of affection towards her especially if deep down a part of him feels guilty when Bell looks up at him with those trusting and loving eyes. He knows he’s a bastard for doing this but it had to be done. 
If the second thing happens with Adler being less affectionate to Bell now compared to past “memories”, perhaps Bell would feel like Adler is upset with her or that she did something wrong which is why he’s more distant with her. And of course when Bell tries to approach Adler about that, Adler just goes to distract himself more with work because what he is doing is wrong and seeing his “wife” ask him if she did something wrong only twists the knife of guilt deeper into his chest. 
Also, since I love angst, let’s talk about the sheer angst and hurt that would happen from Bell finding out that her whole “life” with Adler (the implanted memories from MK Ultra) was all just a lie for Adler to use her like a tool to find out information on Perseus. Perhaps right after Bell answers Adler’s question on whether or not it is Solovetsky or Duga, Bell refuses to take Adler’s hand because she doesn’t want to touch him. Maybe she walks straight to the bathroom in the safehouse and just starts washing her hands or taking a shower because she just feels dirty and used. 
Assuming Bell doesn’t remember her romantic relationship with Perseus and just thinks they supposedly had a close professional one (through the brief few memories she has in her head of him), she can’t help but feel that Perseus abandoned her as well. After all, Volkov sure was eager to kill her in exchange for more of Perseus’ money. 
This came out longer than I expected XD. Anyways, that’s my ramblings and thoughts on the AU idea so far! Thank you so much for sharing, anon! You came up with a really interesting and awesome idea that was a lot of fun to think about. 
To anyone who’s reading this, feel more than free to share fic ideas or AUs involving the pairings I list in my bio. I’ll be more than happy to share my thoughts and ideas on them!
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apples-r-rubbish · 4 years
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John (11 x reader) Part 1
Summary: The doctor was being tracked. So he decided to become John to blend into a small town. It would only be 6 months he said. Word count: 3.4k Warnings: violence mention and knives and angst  AN: Hi! First fic ever uploaded to tumblr so I’m excited. Hopefully this is good and isn’t too long. Part 2 and 3 should be up soon. Hope you like it!! Also I wrote the reader as female in this so sorry, I’m going to try to be more inclusive in later fics :,)
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It had been 2 years, 3 months and 16 days since you’d all arrived in the 1920s, in a quaint little village in the south. You had also been told it would be a maximum of 6 months you would spend here, and boy, how the Doctor was wrong. He was being hunted, by a species that wanted to harvest timelord energy so they could learn to regenerate. So he’d picked a random village and a random time period, given you all jobs, and rewritten his own biology in an attempt to stay safe.
“I’m going undercover as a human, I’m rewriting my genetic code to stay safe, everything non-human about me will be held in this watch, and hidden somewhere linked to me, there will be another fake one hidden with me or on the TARDIS. I won’t recognise it, I’ll barely acknowledge it, or just enough to the point where fake me won’t think there’s anything off about it.” He explained slotting the watch into a rather aggressive looking head contraption, and throwing a device at Amy “I’m becoming John Smith, a history teacher at a local grammar school, Amy and Rory, your job is to track the thing, it has a unique energy signature with that device. Rory you work in the local hospital and Amy you work in a shop. (Y/N), your job is to keep an eye out for me, make sure John doesn’t do anything ridiculous, or fall in love or in a deep hole he can’t get out of. You’re the secretary at the grammar school,”
You cringed at memories as you sat in bed. Thinking over the last 2 years and everything that had happened since, it was all a distant memory now.
“The TARDIS will be in an emergency state if you need her. I won’t know you or remember you. It’s to keep you safe and for your own good. It’ll be six months, at maximum, nothing to worry about, Ponds, (L/N),” he smiled cautiously as he put the device on his head. The thing connected as he screamed, and shook, the agony in face unbearable. 
Eventually, you decided you had to get up so you didn’t lose your job, you put on a dress, strapped a cautionary knife to your leg for protection along with the sonic screwdriver so you knew it wouldn’t fall into the wrong hands or  just in case the thing decided to attack today. You walked to the school. The village was fairly spread out but with limited people, less than 1000 people, everyone knew at least something about everyone apart from the few of you that had been welcomed two years prior. God how you missed Uber, and being able to go on regular runs without judgement. 
When you arrived you stored your coat and bag in a storage room, making polite conversation with your coworkers in your office. John wandered in and smiled at you. “Hello, Miss (L/N), how are you doing today?” He was more posh in this version of himself, he sounded southern and as if he had been educated at the grammar school years prior. 
“I’m very well, sir, just a little tired today. How about yourself?” You had also taken this time as an opportunity to sound more from the time period, to blend in and look more authentic compared to your back story that was full of holes. 
“Good good, sounds like you need more sleep-” He paused upon realising the implications of his words “I- I didn’t mean anything like that, I meant perhaps-” He was like this a lot, he stumbled over himself. Not as confident as the doctor in far too many areas. “Nevermind, Mr Smith, I knew what you meant. What did you come in here for?” you lips pursed together, when he had his memories back you were going to slap him so painfully hard he’d regenerate. He may have had the doctor’s face however, he was not him. Maybe this version of the doctor had taken a liking to you, more than the actual Doctor ever would. You had to stick close to him so you allowed it, although it was painful at points seeing a man you had fallen in love with, finally acknowledge your existence as someone else.
“I needed to check the staff file and I just wanted to chat with you.” So you talked for a while. 
The school day went by relatively smoothly apart from a student vomiting in the hallway, and two students almost getting into a fight, everything seemed standard, as the previous 837 days had. Nothing new. Nothing out of the ordinary.
The village was small and were grateful for that, all the shops were local and the furthest house was a 45 minute walk away. Ultimately, you had decided to visit Amy and Rory as you did most nights as they understood the pain you were going through, trapped away from your time period without your family, and closest friend, whilst also being tracked by an alien. 
“-and then he looked at me and said I needed to get more sleep,” You said between sips of wine and painful laughs
“I can’t believe he struggles with social interaction more as an actual human rather than a timelord,” Amy laughed, this was the tradition, when Rory was working the nightshift, one of you would visit the other, and you’d laugh and drink together.
“At least you get to see him consistently,” Amy added, “We barely do. Rory sees him maybe once every few weeks down at the pub, and I see him when he comes into the shop or at the hall. You at least consistently know he’s safe and happy,”
“Yeah but it’s not exactly him is it. It’s like you see a picture of someone before you know them, like you can acknowledge it’s them but they’re just missing the odd piece to them, like the smile isn’t quite wide enough or their hair is parted differently. It’s a version of him, without him. Without the timelordy, alieny bits,” 
“Maybe so, but it’s something, and we don’t have a lot else right now,”
“God, I can’t wait to wear pants and jeans when we get back to our time,” You said standing and embracing Amy in a warm hug “I need to go home and get some sleep, long day tomorrow, my turn to check. Thanks for having me, I’ll see you tomorrow.”
When you had arrived home, that's when you saw him, a boy from the school outside your door, mindlessly staring through one of your windows.
“Edward Gray, dear? Are you alright? What are you doing here?” You asked panic rising quietly through you
Seemingly snapping out of his trance “Huh? Nothing Miss, I must’ve got a bit lost and confused, that’s all,” He said rubbing his temples, the expression he gave you didn’t reach his eyes, as if he was struggling to believe the words himself. 
“You might want to get home, make sure your mother knows you're safe. We don’t want her up worrying all night now do we? Run along dear,” You said as you unlocked your house and he turned and ran. 
You settled into bed for the night, pulling out a notebook and writing down bits from your previous adventures you could remember, it wasn’t for Amy and Rory you would've been doubting the validity of your stories and doubting that the alien had even existed at all, and wasn’t just a random man from your work who paid attention to you, smiled at your jokes, and whose eyes were full of mystery.
More dreams, more memories, more days. You woke up with a jump, your alarm surprising you. More morning rituals. Breakfast, check. Shower and brushed teeth, check. Dressed, check. Knife, check. Sonic, check. It was a friday so it was your turn to check the TARDIS. It was abandoned in a shed in one of the in one of the many fields surrounding the village that had long been forgotten. She wheezed slightly when you entered, a half asleep acknowledgment of someone else’s company.
“Hello dear, I’ve missed you too,” You said in response, a tinge of sadness in your voice, another sleep wheeze escaped from the console. You replayed the message the doctor had given you. He animatedly explained all the points, once again, like clockwork: village, 20s, hunted, six months, keep watch, pears, stay safe, teaching, secretary, shop, six months. Nothing had changed, you kept quietly wishing for the audio to alter, or the video to change, it never did. It was still the same video, and your alien bestfriend promised 6 months and nothing more.
Somehow, you had managed to arrive early to work. The majority of your colleagues had not yet arrived. In moments like this you had begun reading in classrooms, specifically, John’s. There was something comforting about it, perhaps it was the doctor’s energy. Quiet times like this helped usually, sometimes they made the situation worse, the silence was sometimes unbearable as thoughts of your future life rumbled around your head. You had positioned yourself near a window and pulled out a copy of the Great Gatsby. Whilst you were engrossed in your book, the door opened silently, John slipping in without you noticing
“Miss (L/N)? What are you doing here?” He whispered, his eyes staring deep into your soul, at times like this, he was almost the doctor. You jumped, the sudden noise surprising you
“Ah, sorry, John, dear. I was just reading, I had a bit of time before the day began,” You started 
“It’s alright, no need to apologize. What are you reading?’
“Mr Fitzgerald’s new book, I have heard nothing but good things,” 
“Ah, I prefer the classics, great expectations and such.” Even as a human he was still so much of the doctor. 
You stood up suddenly “Anyway, I need to go. I have my duties to attend to.”
John rambled “Stay! If you want to- I mean- if you would like you can stay here and read, I don’t mind and I’m sure the others wouldn’t mind, I’ll convince them it was my idea. even though it was anyway,”
You considered it for a brief moment, you shook your head, “I can’t, I have particularly busy day,”
“At least let me walk you home tonight then, if you’re busy throughout the day. I enjoy your company,” he said with a wink and then he caught himself and looked shocked that he had actually just done that.
“Fine. I finish at 5. But you must know the neighbours will talk,” You said in attempt to deter him
“Oh, let them, this small town loves gossip,” John smiled in a very doctorish manner. You nodded slightly. A small smile graced your lips, a tinge of sadness in your eyes, you prayed he wouldn't notice as you turned to leave the room. You didn’t see him silently stick his hand out in an attempt to comfort you, over feelings he would have no concept of. John Smith and his small smiles and sweet talk would be the death of you. The Almost Doctor. So close yet, so far out of reach.
You had the trouble of organising staff schedules that week and planning and writing assemblies for other teachers, you didn’t mind though it kept you busy. 
“(Y/N), did you hear Edward Gray hasn’t shown up today,” One of your colleagues Mrs. Price had said, she was elderly woman, her hair greying slightly, her glasses rested on a chain that was always around your neck
“That’s peculiar, he was outside my house last night,” You began as you explained to the other woman. She sat in an awkward silence afterwards.
“According to his mother, he did get home ok, he just came in this morning. Must’ve just decided he wanted to wander the woods for a break,” She said with a nervous laugh and you followed suit before going back to clicking away at your typewriter. 
The day eventually ended at 5pm as you said a brief weekly farewell to the other office staff members before heading to the front of the building. John Smith was stood at the front he gave you a wide small and small wave that you returned
“Mr Smith,” You said with a smile as you approached him
“Miss (L/N).”
On the way home, you chatted about anything and everything, you trying to fix the holes in your double life story, and the chameleon arch filling in the gaps in his. You were simply two half strangers sharing half truths with one another. If the Doctor were actually here he’d laugh. Occasionally, neighbours would nod their heads towards you in acknowledgment, none of them stopping to talk. One neighbor seemed off, you believed his name was Mr Roscoe and he was an older man from the village. He made intense eye contact with you both before bumping into the doctor aggressively, squaring up to him.
“Timelord, your days will soon be up. We will have your secrets soon enough,” Roscoe hissed. Adrenaline pumped through your veins, you pulled the knife from your leg and pointed it at Mr Roscoe’s throat. 
“Good, God Miss (L/N), where did you- what’s going on? Why do you have a knife?” John stammered the chameleon arch kicking into overdrive. 
“Shut up,” You snapped, he opened his mouth to speak, he decided against it, then closed it again. You turned your attention back to the older gentleman, “Leave him be. He is not what you are after. This is your final warning, approach any of us again and this knife is going right in one of your vital organs. Clear? Or will I have to do it as a warning?” You snarled anger rising with each word edging the knife close to the man as you waved it for emphasis.
“Crystal,” The man replied, void of tone. Before turning and walking away sending a sharp glare in your direction as he wandered off
“Do you mind if we visit your house instead I have a phone call to make?” You asked the knife away, smiling and acting like nothing had occurred, slipping your arm back around John’s. John simply stammered in agreement, still not entirely grasping the intensity of the situation.
John’s house was rather large for him, he’d claimed it was far too big for one person and that he ought to let it out, but it was close to his job and he could afford it and that he also preferred his own company. 
You waited until he left his kitchen to call Amy,
“Hello, this is Amelia Williams,” She chimed
“Red, wolf, now,” You said breathlessly, it was code, you had invented, between the three of you, if people were around that couldn’t know about the predicaments you faced, such as John you would use it. Red was danger, wolf was alien.  She breathed a curse into the phone
“You’re safe, I presume, stay that way and with him, time to locate the pin and the needle,” more code, you simply said a quiet yet nervous ‘yes’ into the phone. The pin being the watch, the needle being a decoy.
“What about your job? 2 years, wolf tracking was up to you,” You hissed
“I’m sorry. I think the battery died long ago, we have no idea how to charge it even with the TARDIS. Plus, he never gave us an explanation of how to use it,” You mumbled a brief apology for hissing and hung up, after she had made sure you were fine, in the overly complex code, you former companions shared. 
“What was that about?” John asked reentering the kitchen and breaking you from your thoughts holding some glasses, a bottle and packet of cigarettes. “Sorry, just a small code with a code with a friend, letting her know I’m safe and with a friend incase she gets worried or tries to visit,” You explained quickly
He smiled at that, maybe he had bought it, maybe not, “You’re so intelligent.” He breathed half to himself, half to you “Come on time for a smoke and a drink to calm us down after that, erm, experience,” 
You sat next to eachother on one of the few steps that led to his garden. “So why do you carry a knife?” Was the first question out of his mouth after he’d poured drinks
“An old friend, he had some issues, told me to protect myself, I just felt I needed to make sure I was safe,” You replied simply, “And I hate guns, so a knife had to do,”
“In the 2 years I have known you, (Y/N), I’ve learnt very little about you, other than today.” He sighed 
“You don’t need to know a lot, there’s not a lot I can tell you really, a fairly ordinary life,” 
“Do you smoke?” He said offering you the box, with a smile you accepted one and lit it, 
“Not often, we’ll have to share this one, I can’t handle full ones this late.” You passed it back to him “my friend wouldn’t approve so I try to not,” 
“Well you have to make your own decisions,”
“He wouldn’t approve of you offering, I mean” You corrected “Also maybe not me accepting,” 
“I need to tell you something,” He began, “I have these dreams- and they’re about the future and they involve you and that quiet couple from the village. We travel to other worlds and I’m from another planet and we try to save people.  And it matches some of what Mr Roscoe had said. How crazy is that?”
Shit. You hadn’t considered dreams “Well ultimately dreams are the subconscious filling the space so I would imagine it is perfectly normal thing to dream. And as for Mr Roscoe, he’s a confused old man, I doubt he even realised what he said, John,” You laughed nervously, the chameleon arch had already started fixing the damage
“You can stay overnight, if you’d like I have a guest bedroom set up and some spare toiletries, just so you’re not worried about getting home. Mr Roscoe put the fear of God in us earlier and I wouldn’t like that to happen again, especially if you’re walking home” Even now, when he wasn’t himself, he was still unbelievably kind.
“Ok, then I’ll stay,” You nodded, you did not want another Edward Gray situation
“So this friend of yours. Would he approve of you staying the night? Does he approve of much? It certainly doesn’t seem it,”
“Perhaps he would. Maybe with you, maybe not, it's difficult to say. He doesn’t approve of much and yet many things. Kindness and eccentricity are two things he absolutely loves. He’s a good man, a kind man,” You tried to explain, taking the cig back “He’s a pacifist. And when he smiles the stars seem to align. We travel together. Or rather we used to before I settled here. I’m waiting for him to come back.”
“Oh are you and him-”
“Uh, no, absolutely not. I did see him like that, he did not see me that way. He has no reason to, he carries the stars with him and the world on his shoulders. He’s got enough to worry about without me,” you stated, a small tear slipping from your eyes, John wiped it away quickly , taking the cigarette back and finishing it
“I mean, perhaps he could, view you like that. If I were him and I know I could never be, I wouldn’t hesitate. You’re wonderful, kind and beautiful, intelligent and astonishingly brave,” John smiled “and if he can’t see that, I’m sure someone else will.” 
The silence after his words was comfortable. You didn’t quite expect it. The ferocious love in his voice, the warmth and kindness. It seemed so disjointed from the normal, nervous and awkward John. You rested your head against him, a form of acceptance to his words. He wrapped his long since abandoned jacket around you, along with his arm, trying to shield you from the cold. The drinks had been finished a while,  and cigarettes long since burned to ash. You stayed that way for a while, at least in that hidden moment you could pretend it was him and that things weren’t about to turn terrible. At least you had now and the steps in his garden long after dark.
PART 2
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yougoodfahm · 4 years
Text
Chapter 1 – Leaving the Dust Behind
Auranis AU
Summary for whole fic: Roman and Remus are accepted to join Auranis, a protected and self-sustaining society that was founded within a country that had collapsed, leaving its citizens to fend for themselves. Now, the twins find themselves living a new type of life and try to navigate it as best they can.
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[Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] [Chapter 4] [Chapter 5]
Wordcount: 1783 words
Warnings: mention of death and murder, weapons (knives, brief mentions of others including guns), let me know if I need to add more
Summary: Roman and Remus finish packing and make their way to the bus pick-up location to start their new life as citizens of Auranis
Read it on ao3!
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Roman rifled through the last drawer, making sure he didn’t forget something important. They needed to leave in the next ten minutes or so, and both of their bags were already basically packed, but he was double checking every inch of their tiny house just to be sure.
“Are you sure I can’t bring my radio? It’s going to be so boring without it,” Remus complained, holding up their nearly-broken radio that they had fixed about a year before.
Roman sighed and replied, “Yes, I’m sure. They say it very clearly in the pamphlet, take a look.” He grabbed the piece of folded paper from the top of the dresser and threw it at his brother, which was met with a groan.
He knew the contraband list by heart at this point, making sure that there would be absolutely no reason for them to be turned away before they even got the chance at a better life. No weapons (including knives, needles, sticks, guns, or anything else that could possibly injure someone), nothing that can start fires or produce heat, no radios or other pieces of technology, no drugs, no alcohol, and nothing made of glass.
The only things they could take were whatever clothes they were wearing, plus two pairs of pants, two shirts, two pairs of socks, two pairs of underwear, one set of sleepwear, one jacket, one pair of shoes, and two miscellaneous items, as long as it all fit in a backpack or similarly-sized bag. They could also bring a little food and water for the bus ride, but they had to finish it all by the time they arrived or would have to throw it out.
Roman shut the final drawer and turned to face his brother and their bags. He sighed and checked his watch. Only a few more minutes to go. He grabbed Remus’s bag and searched through it, giving it one last check before they headed out the door to be absolutely sure that he didn’t try to sneak any contraband inside.
Clothes, clothes, clothes, tennis ball, deck of cards. It seemed clear, but he’d check before they got on the bus as well just to be safe.
Roman then turned to his own bag to make sure he had everything. He had all the clothing, plus his large notebook that he’d written and drawn in since he got it four years ago. He also had his favorite pen, plus two apples, a chunk of bread, and a bottle of water for the two of them to share.
Roman looked down at his hands, which were rough from years of hard work. He had his mother’s ring on his right pinkie finger, which was the only finger it would comfortably fit on. Since he was wearing it, the ring wouldn’t be counted as a third miscellaneous item, hopefully. He wanted to remember her, and he’d worn the ring at nearly all times for the past three years.
Roman shook his head slightly to clear his thoughts and hoisted up his backpack, slinging it onto his shoulders. He then picked up his trusted pocketknife, which he had decided to take along as protection during their walk to the pick-up location but would bury in the sand before they got on the bus.
Remus picked up his own backpack and headed towards the door. The two of them said a silent goodbye to the place that had been their home for the past five years or so. It wasn’t much, but it had been theirs. Roman twisted the ring, and then headed out into the cool, dark air.
The stars were out and shining as usual, giving them enough light to see their way without tripping over any debris. They had about an hour until sunrise, which was when the bus would arrive.
The two brothers treaded lightly — which, in all fairness, was not particularly difficult on the sandy surface. Their boots naturally stepped over bottles and chunks of metal that had been cast all over by the high winds of the area.
Roman and Remus walked in silence, staying close to buildings and half-collapsed walls so they could duck behind them at a moment’s notice. Roman kept his pocketknife at the ready and both faced in different directions, scanning the area for any sign of danger. They had both been jumped many times before and certainly didn’t want to repeat the experience, especially not today.
After about half an hour of hiking, Remus signaled to Roman with a silent gesture that he saw patroller lights in the distance and pulled him into an alleyway so that they wouldn’t be seen. The patrol sweeps were never good, they were the last part of the Ocrium government remaining and they were notoriously cruel.
Roman shuddered as he remembered their mother, who had been killed by a patroller because she was looking through a dumpster for food and hadn’t heard them ride up to the alley. He twisted the ring around his finger until the lights had passed them by.
The two of them popped out from the alley and continued on the rest of their walk, luckily without much trouble. The sky lightened before their eyes, right along with Roman’s plan.
The sun had just barely started to cut over the hills in the distance when they reached the pickup area. The brothers saw a cluster of about two dozen other people positioned next to a sign that read “Auranis,” and both of their faces lit up with a hopeful grin.
Roman knelt down and dug a hole in the sand to bury his knife. He motioned for Remus to take off his pack so he could go through it again. Remus groaned but complied, and soon enough the two of them had their packs back on as they joined the rest of the group.
When the sky was finally the familiar pale blue of day, a light gray bus appeared on the horizon and drove towards the group, coming to a gentle stop in front of them.
Roman fidgeted with the hem of his dusty brown shirt and looked over at Remus, who was bouncing on the balls of his feet and whose eyes were gleaming with excitement.
The bus’s front door opened, and a woman stepped out. “Alright, as you board the bus, I’ll need to see your confirmation passes, so have those ready to go.” The crowd nodded, and Roman quickly got out the two passes from the front pocket of his bag. He handed one pass to Remus and kept the other in his hand, which was slightly shaking.
As the crowd made its way into a line that eventually moved onto the bus, Roman couldn’t help but give in to the infectious sense of excitement that permeated the air. Everyone seemed so genuinely glad to be there, for the opportunity to escape the unfortunate reality that they had lived in for so long. For a chance to start over.
When they reached the front of the line, Roman showed his confirmation pass to the woman, who smiled at him and let him board the bus. Remus soon followed, and the two of them plopped down onto one of the large seats towards the back. Only about half of the seats were filled up by the time everyone had gotten on.
Roman looked out the dusty window, admiring the morning light and the world that they were leaving behind. After just another minute or so the bus began its journey.
For a while, the two of them continued to sit in silence, just looking around at the bus, out the window, and at the other people riding it alongside them.
Eventually though, Remus started to get fidgety as he began twirling his short, messy hair around in his fingers. Roman suggested that they break out the deck of cards that Remus had brought, and he happily agreed. They played one of their all-time favorite games that they had made up as kids — they called it Resistance.
Pretty soon the both of them got hungry so Roman got out the food that he had packed, and they ate a breakfast of apples, bread and water. They kept playing Resistance until the bus pulled to a stop at the second pick-up location.
The two of them looked around outside, but the scenery seemed pretty similar to what they were used to. There seemed to be a few trees in the distance, but that was about the only difference. Another two-dozen people boarded the bus, and then they once again started driving but this time towards the city.
Both Roman and Remus dozed off after growing tired of playing the card game after several rounds. Before they knew it, the bus was driving up towards a massive building. Honestly, the word “building” didn’t do it justice, since it was far wider than any building that Roman had ever seen or even dreamed of. It went on and on and on to both the left and right, and he could just barely tell exactly where the gray, concrete walls ended.
Sat right in front of them, though, were two huge wooden doors that were covered in intricately carved designs. The doors opened to them, and the bus drove slowly just inside of the walls. They were soon followed by a second bus that came up the road behind them, and then the doors were shut, closing them inside.
Although the entrance was dark at first compared to the bright sunlight, after a moment Roman’s eyes adjusted and he saw that they were in a large enclosed area that fit them as well as two other buses that weren’t currently being used.
The woman at the front of the bus stood up and said, “Alright, everyone. Gather your belongings and follow me. I’ll be your guide for the next few days. My name is Allana, and just let me know if you have any questions, though I’m sure many of them will be answered soon enough in orientation.”
She went out the bus’s door and waited as the rest of the passengers followed her. Roman quickly shoved their few belongings back into their bags and stood up, barely able to stop his feet from sprinting towards the rest of the group waiting outside.
As Roman and Remus stepped off of the last stair of the bus, Allana motioned the group to follow her towards a door leading away from where they had entered.
The group followed her and as they filed into a new, large and brightly lit room, Allana said with a smile, “Welcome, new citizens, to Auranis.”
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[Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] [Chapter 4] [Chapter 5]
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Let me know if you want to be added to a taglist!
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kurowrites · 4 years
Text
Snow - Chapter 5
Entire fic. AO3. 
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As soon as they leave the apartment building, Wei Ying unabashedly links his arm with Lan Zhan and snuggles up to him. It shields him from the cold winter breeze as much as his hold on Lan Zhan will keep him from slipping on the half-frozen snow. He’s decided that as long as Lan Zhan doesn’t object to it, he’s free to do whatever he wants. And far from objecting to it, Lan Zhan actually wraps his arm around him, so that Wei Ying really ends up stuck to Lan Zhan’s side.
He smiles up at Lan Zhan happily, and Lan Zhan squeezes him once in reply.
If this is a dream, he never wants to wake up.
They make the tour of the park like that, walking slowly as Wei Ying points out all the best sights to Lan Zhan. Lan Zhan listens to whatever Wei Ying has to say, and seems a little mesmerized by the ducks sliding clumsily over the frozen surface of the pond to get to the food that some generous soul has left for them.
“Do you like ducks?” Wei Ying asks when they’ve been standing there for a while, watching the ducks slide over the ice in search of food, and Lan Zhan still makes no move to continue their walk.
Lan Zhan doesn’t reply immediately, so Wei Ying gets in his face and pouts, “Lan Zhaaaan. Talk to me.”
Finally, Lan Zhan turns away from the ducks.
“I prefer rabbits.”
Wei Ying laughs. “Rabbits! I see we’re sticking to a theme. Snow hares and Lan Zhan; a very good combination. Very fitting. I like it. Do you keep rabbits?”
“No.”
“Aw, no! You deserve some cute, fluffy rabbits!”
“I was not in a position to take care of them properly.”
Wei Ying leans into Lan Zhan’s side, thoughtful. “I’m sure you’d take care of them very well. You should get some, Lan Zhan. I’d come visit you, too, to see the rabbits.”
Lan Zhan doesn’t reply, but for some strange reason, he places a soft kiss on Wei Ying’s temple. With that, he finally moves on.
They finish their walk around the pond and leave the park through the gate closest to the department store to do the shopping Wei Ying has been wanting to do. It’s Saturday and the department store is full of people, all trying to get their weekend shopping done. Couples are parading past them, dressed in their nicest date outfits, but Wei Ying is here with Lan Zhan, so really, who’s the lucky one here. They wish they were as lucky as Wei Ying. They walk past a popular coffee shop, and Lan Zhan offers to buy him a coffee, which Wei Ying gladly accepts. He hasn’t had any caffeine for days.
The coffee is delicious, and he would give Lan Zhan another kiss in thanks, but he’s not sure if he should do that here, in public. Later, he tells himself, when they’re back in his apartment. After he’s teased him a little bit more about the rabbits.
Wei Ying originally only wanted to pop into the department store to because he’s run out of envelopes and wanted to buy new ones, but Lan Zhan seems to be in a shopping mood. He takes Wei Ying to the household section of the department store and wanders through the aisles, picking out things here and there, comparing items and their functionality. Wei Ying helps him make the correct decisions, or at least the correct decisions in Wei Ying’s opinion. He teases Lan Zhan by telling him he should buy everything in red, because red is obviously the best colour. It clashes horribly with Lan Zhan’s all-white approach, but that’s half the fun.
Lan Zhan, oddly, listens to him and picks a fancy kitchen knife with a red handle, a red coffee machine, and more items that have the colour option red. Only when Lan Zhan is already paying (even Wei Ying’s envelopes managed to land in Lan Zhan’s basket somehow), it strikes Wei Ying that all the stuff Lan Zhan is buying is not intended for Lan Zhan at all. It’s all for Wei Ying. 
“Lan Zhan,” he says, panicking a little. “You can’t buy me all this stuff!”
Lan Zhan ignores him stubbornly and pays for everything.
“Lan Zhan!”
“We should also get some groceries,” Lan Zhan says, completely refusing to even respond to Wei Ying’s protests. He waltzes on with his newly acquired shopping bags in tow; a force that cannot be stopped. If Wei Ying didn’t know better, he would say that Lan Zhan is amused about Wei Ying’s inability to stop him. But such things are below Lan Zhan.
If there’s one thing Wei Ying is very good at, however, it’s being obnoxious. So, when Lan Zhan is busy picking out some food in the grocery store, he vanishes into a different isle and picks up something else. When he returns to Lan Zhan’s side, he drops his loot into the shopping basket Lan Zhan is holding with an impertinent grin. Lan Zhan stares at the objects for a moment and then shoots Wei Ying a look. To Wei Ying’s delight, he leaves the items in the basket and heads to the cashier to pay.
With bags full of groceries and other items, they return to Wei Ying’s apartment.
Once again, Lan Zhan prepares them a delicious late lunch, and when Wei Ying is full and feeling lazy, Lan Zhan sets up the new coffee maker and gets it running.
“Yessss,” he moans when Lan Zhan hands him a perfect little cup of espresso. “Caffeine.”
The caffeine revives him enough to remember the shopping he did earlier. Enthusiastic, he digs the items out of the pile of shopping that they haven’t cleared away yet and holds them under Lan Zhan’s nose.
“So,” he says with a grin. “I have plans for you this afternoon.”
He knows by now that he can’t always anticipate Lan Zhan’s reactions to his teasing, so honestly, it’s a gamble every time. But Lan Zhan paid for the lube and condoms Wei Ying put into his shopping basket without complaint, so he can’t imagine Lan Zhan suddenly having any moral objections now. Lan Zhan takes the items, but then, instead of eagerly jumping Wei Ying and debauching him on the spot, he puts them aside. Instead, he wraps his hands around Wei Ying’s waist and draws him close.
“I would stay,” he says, and he sounds actually sorry, “but I have to leave soon.”
Wei Ying lets his face drop on Lan Zhan’s shoulder and whines. “Lan Zhan, way to burst my bubble.”
“I am sorry.”
Another kiss finds its way on Wei Ying’s temple.
“And tomorrow?”
“I have an appointment with my family.”
Wei Ying whines again. He had hoped he could spend the entire weekend with Lan Zhan – there goes that dream.
A sudden thought strikes him and he jolts up.
“Wait – don’t tell me you have a wife and children waiting for you at home.”
Lan Zhan looks at him with an expression so offended, Wei Ying can’t help but laugh.
“I will be with my brother and uncle,” Lan Zhan informs him primly.
“Sorry, sorry,” Wei Ying apologises, still laughing. “But I would kick your ass if you made me a homewrecker.”
“No.”
The answer is so immediate, so absolute, Wei Ying has no doubt that Lan Zhan is entirely serious. He would never do something like that.
“Fine,” Wei Ying sighs. “I’ll let you go. But I’ll miss you.”
“Mn.”
Lan Zhan makes sure that everything is in order and Wei Ying has everything he needs before he leaves him. He also gives him his phone number and promises him that he will contact Wei Ying soon. Wei Ying is happy about the promise, but it still leaves him with a sense of worry. Lan Zhan might step out of his apartment and decide that Wei Ying isn’t worth the effort, isn’t worth coming back. He likes Lan Zhan. He doesn’t want to lose him. Not now. But he also can’t hold onto him, has no claim to his attention or time.
He sighs again when Lan Zhan puts his coat on, but accepts Lan Zhan’s goodbye kiss gracefully.
Lan Zhan’s fingers linger on Wei Ying’s cheeks, stroke the skin there before he finally lets go, and it’s the only gratification that Wei Ying has – that Lan Zhan seems equally as reluctant to leave Wei Ying as Wei Ying feels reluctant to let Lan Zhan go.
“Take care, Wei Ying,” he says, finally, and vanishes out of the door.
---
Sunday is boring. Wei Ying should be perfectly used to being alone in his apartment, but it feels far too empty now. So many things in here remind him of Lan Zhan – all the things that he brought Wei Ying, even the food that he bought for Wei Ying to eat. The bedsheets in which Lan Zhan had embraced him. The beautiful red coffee machine. It’s distracting, to be reminded of Lan Zhan everywhere.
He originally planned to catch up on his work since he missed university on Friday, but he finds he’s unable to concentrate and can’t get on with his work at all. Whenever he’s reading a text, he finds his mind wandering, wondering about where Lan Zhan is right now, if he’s thinking of Wei Ying, too. It’s unbearable. He’s like some lovesick young maiden, pining for her lover at war. It’s pitiful. He’s known Lan Zhan for all of three days.
He’s moments before losing patience with himself when the doorbell rings.
Wei Ying’s heart hammers in his chest. Could it be? Could it be Lan Zhan?
He practically flies to the door.
But when he opens the door, he isn’t greeted by a tall figure in a white coat. A a short, mustached delivery man waits for him. When he sees Wei Ying, he hands him a package, mumbles something in his mustache, and vanishes down the hallway before Wei Ying can even give him his thanks.
He hasn’t ordered anything, so why on earth did a package land on his doorstep?
But his name is written on the label of the package, along with his address, so he takes the box to the kitchen and opens it, peeking inside curiously. He picks out a few air cushions that are in the way, and there –
It’s a rabbit plushie.
It’s a giant, fluffy, white rabbit plushie, and it can only come from one single person.
He takes the rabbit out of the box, and its fur is so soft he can’t help but hug it, squeeze it, and scream into its fur a little. He’s full of emotions and they need to be expressed somehow. Lan Zhan sent him a rabbit plushie.
It’s the cutest plushie he’s ever seen, perfectly white, with powdery pink inner ears and shiny black eyes. It’s absolutely perfect.
Still holding the plushie, he digs for his phone, snaps a photo of him and the plushie, and sends it to Lan Zhan with a quick message.
 [Wei Ying] LAN ZHAN. ARE YOU TRYING TO KILL ME? (((( ;°Д°))))
[Wei Ying] This is the cutest rabbit I have ever seen!! I’m happy now. I don’t need you anymore. ヾ|* ̄ー ̄|
[Wei Ying] That was a joke by the way. I need you…. and the rabbit. ( ˘ ³˘)❤
[Lan Zhan] I am glad that you like the rabbit. It will be there for you when I cannot.
[Wei Ying] _(:°з」∠)_
[Wei Ying] You’re killing me, Lan Zhan, you’re killing me.
[Wei Ying] I will take good care of it, I promise.
[Lan Zhan] Good.
Wei Ying squeezes the rabbit to his chest, giving it a little kiss in place of its owner.
Lan Zhan is the absolute best. He listened to Wei Ying’s whining and sent him a rabbit plushie to cheer him up.
With a sigh, he closes the book he’s been trying to read and heads for his bedroom instead. He’s not going to get any more work done today. But he has a rabbit for company now, so he might start with a nap.
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madokasoratsugu · 5 years
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meta on what happens to each character post ‘moonlight is but reflected sun’ . this is as close as it’s gonna get for an actual epilogue to the fic, i hope you enjoy!  as usual, read on ao3 if possible for formatting - bullet points aren’t too bad for this meta, but i personally think the ao3 version’s format might flow better.
read on ao3
Fritz still doesn't get along with most of Marchen for the rest of the rebellion (overthrowing Hildyr, taking back the castle and rescuing Genaro). an enemy of an enemy is a friend, but knowing he nearly killed at least two people present is. hard to get over instantly. Fritz understands, Lucette doesn’t. Fritz jokes about how Lucette may run off again because of this, covers his mouth and looks the most surprised by his own words. he is more like the wolf than he’s starting to realise. maybe this is a good thing. 
Parfait and Delora are the ones who accept Fritz the fastest. Parfait does so the moment he steps into Marchen, Delora the moment he steps out toward the castle. there is a special kind of courage to be recognised (and feared) in a man who willingly throws himself back into the jaws of death just to get the truth from the one he loves, the very one who condemned him
“You’ve done well.” Parfait tells him, soft like no parent has spoken to him in years. “You’ve had courage, and kindness. Not many would have had that strength. Thank you.” Parfait never says a name. she knows that that is not important. and then she hugs him, and hugs him tighter as he lets out an aching sob into her chest.
Parfair still dies to stop Hildyr, magic is still lost. but with Mythros' influence over Varg gone, Delora lives. the gate scene pretty much never happens; once Hildyr flings the first spell at Lucette, Delora has thrown her shield up, thrown herself in the role of Lucette’s mother, and she’s not fucking budging. no one is taking another child from her again.
Alcaster is long dead at the hands of Hildyr by the time they storm the castle. Mythros is caught for questioning, but escapes during the post-revolution chaos/celebration. Fritz never gets his answers this time, either. maybe it’s better this way. Fritz certainly doesn’t think so.
a rescue for Lucette was attempted, but quickly aborted when Lucette was found missing. two is enough to cover each other's sixes, so Garlan doesn't die. but he does get severely injured, especially at the knee that puts an end to his career as a knight. its ok though, because as Karma puts it: "He can start a new career as Jurien's house husband instead". and he does. as well as become one of Lucette's newest minister of defense. 
Fritz becomes Prince Consort cum Head Knight, Lucette the Queen. compared to facing your worst fears and standing up to a long loved parent, these responsibilities almost seems like taking candy from a baby.
until Fritz starts taking etiquette classes and attends rigorous prince training. he’s never wanted to die more. Lucette laughs, but helps him out with his academics anyway. they have so many dance lessons together in empty ballrooms and corners of the garden, even though both are already excellent dancers. but most days it is Rod and Emelaigne who guide him, and it’s through many an etiquette class that they grow closer. the trio def eventually all see each other like siblings.
Emelaigne tells him one day when they’re rearranging knives that she doesn’t blame or fear him. it’s a stupid decision, Fritz subtly hints at when he says thank you. Emelaigne smiles at him and says i know, when she puts the butter knife next to his pinky finger. Emelaigne smiles at him and says i trust you, when she lifts the steak knife and hands it to him to arrange next.
things are weird around Lucette and her step-siblings for a while. having a near death experience together caused by your fiance does that to people. but Lucette goes to town with Emelaigne more often now, though she sticks to the shadows with Rod. Lucette learns to bring a book while waiting for Emelaigne to finish conversations in shops, make small talk with Rod over such novels, with Emelaigne between shop shelves over everything and anything. it is easier work than Lucette imagined it to be, if such tasks that slowly turn into enjoyments, can be considered work at all.
“Does Rod like chocolate?” Lucette asks, absentminded as she stares at a flower shop. that is when Emelaigne knows, truly, that maybe at least one family has the hope of being rebuilt. 
“Cinnamon! He likes that flavour best!” “Then let’s go to the best bakery in town.” “Not the best baker?” “No, unless you have a craving for chocolate croissants.”
Fritz immediately clears Jurien and Garlan’s names with the Order of Caldria, and Jurien becomes co-head knight with Fritz. she takes care of the training and soldiers most days, while Fritz does paperwork and acts as the figurehead leader. most soldiers will never respect the two of them as much as they did Alcaster. most soldiers will also never know the things the two of them have sacrificed to protect all their lives, all the lives of those they treasure in town. 
Jurien and Fritz silently make peace with this with a shared bottle of whiskey under the moon. “Varg was a total dick.” Jurien abruptly says, bottle half empty. Fritz laughs. “Is that an indirect insult to your superior?” Jurien grins. “Yes.” Fritz laughs, again. it’s good to have friends.
among her immediate family, Ophelia expresses her joy for their union the most readily. she loves Lucette, but in the end she is still the one her father chose over Lucette. Lucette understands and forgives, but it is hard to forget. she asks Fritz if that makes her cruel. Fritz smiles sadly, and says no, it just makes you human.
Genaro doesn’t quite know what to do with himself or his daughter after everything. neither does Lucette, nor Fritz. it’s a weird situation when your fiance’s father was plotting to kill his former best friend, who also happens to be your father. it’s an even weirder situation when you learn that that father that nearly died may not have hated you for your entire life after all. it takes many years and many awkward conversations, but Lucette can at least see her father as someone to depend on now. as for seeing him as a father, and him her daughter - well. she’s lived without one for seventeen years. she’ll live another few decades without one. at least with her as nothing but his ward, his successor in line, he can look at her without flinching now. 
it’s all Lucette’s ever wanted, so she hooks her arm through Delora’s, and lets her mother lead her down the aisle instead.
Fritz is what makes Lucette happy. it’s all Genaro ever wanted, and so Genaro’s blessing is quick, and immense. happiness is something Genaro was unable to give Lucette, will never be able to exceed Fritz in giving. it is a secret he takes to his grave. this world’s cruel truth has hurt his daughter enough. 
Karma is the one who’s the most suspicious of Fritz for the longest time. he’s clashed swords with him, he knows murderous intent when he sees it. he may see him in a better light after fighting side by side to take down Hildyr and brainwashed soldiers, but some days he glances at Fritz, smells the metallic tinge that never leaves him and thinks blood, and doesn’t dare to think whose. trust is something to be earned. Fritz doesn’t earn Karma’s for years. 
it’s a good thing, Fritz tells Lucette after yet another argument she’s had with her redhead friend, it means he cares, that he wants to think the best of us - or, me, i guess. he doesn’t tell her some nights he still dreams of gilded cages and his mother, and Lucette. he tells her with a smile having doubts may save her life in the future and she slaps him. he tells her about her dreams then, and she kisses the cheek she slapped and cries because he won’t. it’s not a fairy tale romance, but it’s theirs, and Lucette reminds Fritz of that. Fritz nods, and sinks into her hug, and tells her about another childhood memory of his mother. maybe this time it’s a happy one. maybe it’s not. but it’s their romance, and this way he is letting go of his parents’, and that’s what counts.
“I don’t trust you.” Karma says. his voice carries in the wide training ground. “Doesn’t mean I don’t trust that you won’t protect her, or make her happy.” Fritz mirrors his gentle smile, and lifts his longsword. “My sentiments exactly.” Karma lifts a brow, his rapier, and strikes true.
Rumpel continues working on breaking his curse, and every time he returns to the palace, he comes back wiser. his words do not change, but they hold gravitas now, a sure assuredness behind every syllable. he was the first to look Fritz in the eye, after Parfait. he continues to do so, even after they’ve retaken the castle, even after seeing Fritz wielding a sword bloodied by innocents. his gaze is saddened, but he holds Fritz’s eye. Fritz is the one who looks away. he is more of a knight than he realised. maybe this is good.
when Rumpel returns, he always returns with advice and tea leaves for Lucette. Lucette takes both with an eye roll and a smile. he ruffles her hair, asks if she is alright and she always says, yes. he always sees through her, and tells her what she needs to hear - ‘tell him how you feel’, ‘then just kiss him, if you want to so much’, ‘be selfish with him’. often Lucette isn’t sure if Rumpel is advising her, or airing wishes left undone. but they always help, so she always thanks him, and gives advice of her own back, do not forget about yourself, and only once does Rumpel smile wrinkled, fingers curling around an old journal beneath the table. not anymore, he promises.
Waltz takes to Fritz after a while. it starts with both realising the other is someone also irrefutably screwed over by an adviser that slipped out of their grasp. it really starts when Waltz confides i should have broken her out, when Fritz replies so should i. shared regrets and trauma makes fast friends. Waltz understands Fritz in a way that no one else has, no one else will. there is darkness both wield with strength, command with ease and make bend to their will. it is a frightful thing to know you can do. it becomes less so when someone else kinder than you can do the same.
Lucette asks Fritz once, how he took to Waltz so easily. Fritz only smiles, and kisses her temple, says, ‘secret’, in lieu of ‘our mothers died because of us’, ‘the most vital moments of our lives were stolen from us by the same person’, ‘we would have given our lives for you in that tunnel if it meant you never had to see your mother and let her hurt you again.’. sometimes it is easier to lie. sometimes Lucette knows, so she just sighs, and tells him to pass on the message that they are both fools and she will not condone death. Fritz grins and asks how she will punish him if he is dead? Lucette deadpans necromancy, and Fritz laughs, kisses her again. he promises, swears to live for her (again). he is more like a prince than he realised. maybe this is a good thing. 
Waltz doesn’t tell Lucette about their history all at once. he asks Lucette once, if she remembers anything happy at all in her childhood. her eyes film over, and she says maybe, i can’t -. and her knees are buckling. repressed memories, enchanted amnesia, where does one draw the line between the two? Waltz doesn’t want to find out. all he does is wrap her in a hug, say you don’t have to remember and wish she did. eventually she will, but by then Waltz is in Brugantia and Karma is healing the wounds she would only have torn open wider. when they meet again and her once-bleeding wounds are scars like his is, they will laugh about poorly sewn dolls and the sweetness of sweets stolen from kitchens, and laugh more over their respective betrothed's horrible accents.
‘could have been’s are dangerous, Waltz tells her one night, with a knowing smile. ‘do not dwell on them, little star.’ black and velvet and two instead of one. thoughts Lucette brush aside as she brushes Fritz’s odd lock of black away from his face. she will remember, but she will not wonder. she kisses Fritz’s temple where the black tresses end, and sinks in the familiar smoky laugh that tumbles from him.
"What do you love about me?" Lucette asks, another night, the first one they spend together. everything feeling terribly new and odd, their fingers intertwined in the space between them, every other part kept to their separate halves of the bed. Fritz blinks, staring up at the canopy, thinks."How high can you count?"
“How do you love me?” Lucette asks, another night, curling into Fritz’s warmth. Fritz pulls her in closer, hums sleepily into the top of her head. “Deeply, and truly.” 
“Why do you love me?” Lucette asks, another night, curled into herself, back to Fritz. Fritz combs his hand through her long hair that pools around her and over the bed. slowly, he makes his way up to her roots, hand buried in auburn and thumb smoothing over the shell of her ear, her lashes blending into her flushed face. at the lack of resistance, Fritz moves closer, the crinkling of the sheets tangling around his legs the only indication he is moving at all. slides his other hand over the bed, softly shifting the folds, pausing next to her hip. fingertips barely grazing her tailbone as he slips his other hand lower to the nape of her neck; her breath hitches as he leans forward, fingertips tipping into the dent where her spine ends, tracing over her hipbone, her waist, her stomach. closes in, hand shifting down from her nape so his lips can take it’s place. “Because.” Fritz murmurs into her skin, as if trying to etch the words with breath alone. “I couldn’t have done anything else.” 
like a snare, his words draw her back in, away from then and back to them. an exhale leaves Lucette, her chest caving in as she relaxes into Fritz’s languid frame behind her. he is more like a hunter than he realised. maybe this is a good thing.
"I know - I know we’ve discussed this, and it’s pretty much already set in stone but -.” Laughter. “Will you marry me?”
“Of course. I - oh - Of course.”
their romance is not a fairy tale but it is, finally, theirs. and they wouldn’t have it any other way.
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uglypastels · 11 months
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Not Wholly Evil |IX| pirate!Eddie au [SFW]
a/n we are getting so close to the endddd oh my god i am so excited and sad at the same time because i don't want this story to end as much as some of you, but I also cannot wait to share my next lil projects with you 🥰 thank you for all the support on the last chapter!
this is the "censored" version of Chapter 9. If you wish to read the explicit version (18+ ONLY. Minors DO NOT interact) please check out:
Chapter 9 (not safe for work version)
Series Masterlist
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word count: 11.4k
"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 in water. men are pigs: mentions of non-con, but it does not actually occur. [in-dream] non-consensual behaviour. malnourishment and weight loss. paranoia. mention of poisoning. abuse. manhandling. lying. small wounds inflicted by fire. jealous!eddie. binds and knifes.
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Chapter 9: Paragon
“Perhaps the wolf wasn't quite so dangerous as he pretended. Unfortunately, there was only one way to find out for sure——give him a little rope and see if he hung himself… And pray that he didn't tie her up with it instead.”
― Sabrina Jeffries, Dance of Seduction
He looked like he saw a ghost. And maybe he had. You didn’t feel like yourself, so who was to say if you were still alive? You had comprehended how you carried yourself back to the Hellfire. Standing in his room felt like you were looking down at yourself. Aware of everything around you but understanding none of it.
‘I thought you had left.’ He stepped into the room, leaving the door wide open. As he walked, you noticed he was clearing the way for you, allowing you to leave if you wanted to. His eyes were intently focused on yours and threaded lightly. Like any wrong move would cause you to disappear.
‘I wanted to,’ you admitted. You still wanted to. Your thoughts had screamed through the night for an escape. Yet, something tied you down to this ship and made you return.
‘Then why didn’t you?’ He came closer, and so did you. That string pulled at your ribs again, pulling you two closer. You had tried long enough to fight it to no avail. Whatever you thought you wanted did not compare to your subconscious need to be next to him. 
‘I don’t know.’ Deep down, you knew the reason, but the time was not there yet to admit it. In your mind, you still despised everything about him, this ship, the crew, and, therefore, yourself for needing his touch as much as you did at this moment. It was weak to give in to him like you did.
The candle's light fell upon him at angles that brought something new out in him or maybe revealed what had always been there. The signs of the wear and tear of a life at sea. He wasn’t hiding it any more, letting all that pain be visible, and he looked beautiful. You held back from reaching out and tracing the thin scar against his brow or the flawed line of his nose that must have been broken once. The longer you looked at him, the more you realised that you could look at him in this way forever. 
And that scared you. 
Munson walked past you to his desk, occupying himself with whatever he could reach. It would have been good for you to have something to focus on instead of him, but you stood in the middle of the room with nothing but him to clutch onto. Neither of you spoke, stuck in an awkward limbo, tiptoeing around one another to see who would be the first to step over that line. The line that had kept you, your heart, safe until now. You could impossibly predict what was to happen if it was crossed.
The ship creaked as the tide softly bounced off it. For the rest, it was uncharacteristically quiet on board.
‘Is the rest coming as well? Will we be departing soon?’ It was ridiculous to change the topic in this manner, but you simply did not know what else to say, and this barrier between you and him was dreadful. You could sense it in the middle, waiting for that catalyst to burst. And you wanted it to. Just how?
‘No, I doubt they realised I’ve gone.’ He finally turned back to face you, leaning against the desk, arms crossed, eyes on the ground. If he could just look at you—would that make things easier or that much harder?
‘Why did you? Leave the tavern, I mean.’ With your heart pounding in your throat, tightening your breath, you stepped toward him. 
‘I noticed you were gone. Then I heard you had gone to the harbour with some man and I thought…. I grew worried.’
‘Why?’ You could not imagine him caring for you to go out, away from his crew and his festivities, to look for you. 
‘I know what you’re thinking, and at first, yes, I was thinking about the money,’ he admitted, which took you aback. You took a step closer. ‘But then I—when I realised, or thought, that I had actually lost you, I thought about how I would never see you again, and I realised—’ his words faded as you took your final step towards, letting your chest press against his. He finally let his eyes meet yours. 
‘Realised what?’ Considering your proximity and seclusion, you hadn’t meant to whisper, but it felt right. 
‘That I was scared’ His breath was shaky as his eyes took all of you in. ‘Of loosing you.’
‘I was scared too.’ And maybe that is what kept you from leaving. The idea that if you would go, there was a possibility that you would never see him again, and it was enough to hollow out your entire being with dread. It felt wrong. But that gnawing in your chest stayed there the whole night, even when you had returned to the Hellfire, and it only left once you felt his fingers intertwine with yours. A flutter of a touch at the fingertips.
‘Are you still?’ He matched your hushed tone with his response. ‘Scared, I mean?’ The question was simple on its surface, but only the facade for an obliterating iceberg was the truth. 
‘No.’ Standing in front of him, feeling his breath on you, the warmth that radiated off him, his gentle touch on your skin, seeing the smile hiding in his features, you saw nothing to be scared of anymore. There was nothing to fear anymore. The voice in you that had screamed for help all those days was silenced for a final time when you leaned in to kiss him.
His lips were chapped, cheeks rough with scars and the light shadowy scruff of a beard. His touch was featherlight, as if he was scared to pursue it as if you were to break underneath him. It starkly contrasted the force he had pulled you in with hours before. The intensity had been dizzying, and yet this was what genuinely shut your mind down entirely. But you could tell that he was not there yet wholly. Something kept him guarded. 
You pulled away, but your lips still shared the same breath. When you opened your eyes, you were met with his and how they were shaking with uncertainty as he took all of you in. 
‘Is there something you’re still afraid of?’ you asked.
‘Many things,’ his hand found its place on your waist, ‘but mostly of myself,’ and gently pushed you away. ‘And what I will do to you. I have made so many mistakes, mistakes that hurt you, already in that I will have to live it for my eternity, but I do not know what I will do if I make one again.’ 
There was silence as you took in his words. You understood them, possibly more than anyone could, for they were yours. As your lips met, you thought if what you were doing would lead to your doom, if it would all end in a disaster, but could something that felt so right be so devastating?
He had let his eyes fall to the ground. You reclaimed the one step he had made you take, closing the gap between you once more and letting your hand guide him to look up at you.
‘Do you think that kiss was a mistake?’ Your heart beat faster than it ever had as you waited for an answer, but his lips remained shut, so you continued. ‘If so, do not play with my heartstrings, but tell me, and I will leave. I will return to my cell, and you can lock me up and never see me again until you bring me back home.’ It would only be a couple of days, and it would hurt to mend this extremely fragile piece of you that you had just opened, but like all wounds do, it would heal eventually.
‘Answer me, captain.’ You kept your voice as steady as possible, regaining the confidence you had built up since you got onto the ship. ‘Was that a mistake?’
‘No.’ And with that one final word, you both leaned in for a kiss. Your hand was still on his cheek, his holding you tightly, but you still felt that urge to pull yourself closer to him. As you felt the press of his chest fully against yours, he actually pulled his lips away from yours. He hesitated but finally spoke against the corner of your mouth. ‘But… call me Eddie. Please.’ 
You couldn’t help but smile into your next kiss. Just like that, all that weight of the world fell off both your shoulders, down into the depths of the ocean, never to be seen again. You didn’t hold back with this newfound freedom when you pushed him up against the desk. The furniture shuffled with a creak over the floor, and you could hear some things topple over at the impact. Still, neither of you cared, too occupied with one another. He could just about manage to extend his hand and begin to push all the loose items off the desk to make space for himself. The papers flew around you, and all the measurement equipment clattered onto the crowd. 
As the kiss intensified, Eddie shrugged and smoothly sat up on the desk, pulling you in with him. As he slowly let himself fall back, you followed, attached by the lips, hands, and hearts, until you practically lay on top, arms keeping you up from falling entirely onto him. Well, one hand, as the other found him and laced your fingers together once more. He had tried to make more space around you, pushing objects aside, when he cursed loudly.
You startled away and saw the clench in his jaw as he took a deep breath. He must have read your panic-stricken face as he showed you his hand. ‘It’s alright,’ his voice was calm, humour peaking through it. ‘I might have just put my hand right into the flame.’ And indeed, the side of his hand was glowing red. 
Hearing this did not put your mind at rest as you tried to grab his hand and inspect the damage more deeply, but he just pulled it away from you, instead taking your fingers in his and kissing your knuckles. 
‘Don’t worry, my darling,’ he smiled while kissing your hand, ‘Can barely feel it.’
He had just made direct contact with fire; you doubted it would be alright, but then again, you had seen all the scars on his body. This would just be another small blister among the list of many. But you blinked the thought away. Tried your best not to think about the pain he had endured. You doubted he wanted you to feel pity for him and what had once happened to him. 
The look in his eyes was adamant. He needed you to let it go, so all you could do was sigh.
‘You’ve gone mad.’ 
Eddie chuckled at your comment as he let his lips travel over your wrist, over the length of your arm. ‘As mad as any other sane man.’ His kisses moved over the material of your shirt. The lack of contact that was so clearly there shot sparks of anticipation through you, but he took his time taking you all in until his lips reached your collar. He had practically strained his neck to reach you from his position. Some of you wanted to back away to see how far he would follow you, but your weaker portion gave into his touch and melted over it. 
He had just kissed your neck, sparking a fire through you on the spot, when a noise boomed over the silent ship, bursting you out of the solitary moment of bliss. In an instant, Eddie held you by the hips as he gently pushed you off him and got himself back on the ground. There was an alarm in his features, and so, when he looked at you and told you to “Stay here”, for once, you listened.
He closed the door behind him as he left to see what the noise was, and when minutes later, he had not returned, but there had also not been any more ruckus or signs of danger; you calmed down. Unsure of what to do now, you lay down on the bed. In the past few days, the bed had gotten more comfortable as you got used to it, but it still felt strange. You lay down on your side, facing the wall. The patterns in the wooden planks almost seemed to move in the shadowy light and, unfortunately for you, brought you into a trance of clarity and thoughts.
What were you doing? How could you have let all this happen? Kissing the man that had caused the death of so many people that you had deemed friends. How could you betray their souls by… by falling for him? You had lost control of all your feelings and emotions. 
It was a trick of the sea. You had simply been captured on this ship for so long that you did not know what was wrong or right. How else could you explain the yearning feeling that still circulated through you? Why else did you wish he was still here with you, touching you?
With all these thoughts occupying your mind, you must have missed Eddie walking back into the room, mumbling something about how it had been a few of his crew that stumbled back up to the ship. Too busy with your own mind, you did not hear him calling your name softly, assuming you had fallen asleep and telling you good night. You did not hear how deflated the last words came from his mouth. You only caught the sound of the door closing behind him. 
And soon, you managed to turn all these thoughts off and fall asleep. Except then, they came back even stronger and in the form of dreams. You found yourself back on the Red Tail. The hawk flapped its wings on the flag in the wind and every man’s uniform. The sun shone brightly in its last few minutes before hiding behind the horizon. It was a strange illusion as you stared down at the ship and the two figures that stood out looking at the sparkling sea. You watched yourself talking to Admiral Carver.
‘I would have imagined you to have grown tired of the water by now,’ he laughed.
‘I won’t say I will be happy to return home, but I can’t ever see myself becoming tired of this view. It is beautiful.’ You leaned forward onto the balustrade and breathed in the salty air. ‘Besides, you have done this for much longer than I have, and you’re here too, so it can’t be that bad.’ It seemed it was only your first expedition while he had crossed the world several times. If anyone was to grow tired of it, you thought it would be him. 
‘Perhaps you’re right,’ he had his arms behind his back, ‘but everything is more bearable when there is something back home to look forward to.’ 
‘I suppose so.’ You would not exactly know what he meant. Of course, you could not wait to see your father again, and your friends, but nothing at home gave you the sense that it genuinely anchored you there or drew your heart in for your return. ‘I am sure you miss your family very much.’
‘Yes, of course,’ He took a step closer to you, ‘but I will miss these moments.’
‘Oh,’ you were startled by his proximity, unsure how to respond. Politely, you smiled and tried to keep the conversation going, ‘I’ve enjoyed them too, uhmm-’, but you were suddenly thrown off-guard when you felt his hands on you. Before he had the chance to do anything, you were quick to push him off. ‘What are you doing?’
‘Taking our last chance before it’s too late.’ He leaned in again, and you stepped back. 
‘What about your–’
‘She does not need to know.’ The sea was a free playing field for most men, so what happened out there was not up to the women at home to know. You had seen adultery but never thought the admiral would participate in such activities. He had been drinking; maybe he wasn’t thinking straight. Before he would make any more mistakes, you attempted to walk away, but he caught you by the arm, putting all his strength into the hold.
‘Admiral, you’re hurting me.’ You tried to pull your arm back, and this is where things began to change. Where the dream made itself apparent. Carver’s handsome features turned into vicious angles as he spoke. 
‘So you’ll kiss Munson, but not me?’ 
‘What- what are you–’ you tried to get away, but it was as if he grew in size. And there were flashes. These flashes of light. Like lightning, there was no thunder, rain, or light. It blinded you, and you tried to regain your sight by blinking, but each time you did so, he seemed to change right in front of you. 
There was him like you knew him, but the next second he turned into this nightmarish version of himself, but there were moments when he wasn’t himself at all. You’d blink, and suddenly you saw Captain Munson. Still in that uniform, however, you would try to make sense of it all. Still, before you could, he would disappear again, and you would be looking into Carver’s blank eyes, and you’d see the blood dripping from his mouth as he spat out his words.
‘Don’t trust him.’
‘What?’ You had tears in your eyes, and your wrist burned from his touch. There was another flash of light. Eddie stood before you again, just as you knew him. 
‘Do not trust him.’
Don’t trust who? Who were you meant to trust, then? The questions rang through you as you woke up, head throbbing with pain, limbs sore and dehydrated. If you did not know any better, you would have blamed the rum you consumed the night before on everything, making you imagine all that had happened. Still, the sensation that Eddie had left on your whole body felt too real to be just a drunken dream or nightmare.
He was not in the cabin when you awoke, but you could hear him outside, yelling commands out. When you looked outside the window, you could tell by how the waves moved that you had departed the Saint Claire harbour and were on your way again.
You sat up in bed but remained still afterwards, uncertain what to do next. Some part of you wanted to go outside and see Eddie, talk to him about whatever it was that had happened that night. Still, a bigger side of you doubted you could ever look him in the eye again. Seeing your reflection from the glass doors of a cabinet in the room, of yourself in his bed, made you feel bad enough. So, staying in the room for the rest of the day was not an option either. You were already at the door, hand on the handle, when it opened, nearly crashing into you. 
‘Sorry,’ his apology was muffled. 
‘I was just on my way out,’ you muttered in the same awkward tone and walked past him. 
‘Wait,’ Eddie reached for you, and the memory of your dream of Carver made you retract away from him, regretting it as soon as you did. Eddie wasn’t him, but you treated him the same because of something your exhausted mind had decided to conjure up. Eddie kept his distance. ‘Can we talk?’
‘Later,’ you pleaded. This was not the right time. You could tell that it would not end well if you stayed there. 
But when would it be right? When would the stars align correctly for you to speak? It certainly wasn’t the next two days, as you kept walking in circles around eachother. You avoided him like the plague, and it was unlikely that he had not noticed yet. 
You kept yourself occupied with anyone else but him, really. Talking to Robin, Steve, and anyone else who seemed to require company as much as you. Almost as much, at least. It shocked you as well as them how smoothly the conversations went. While only a little was exchanged, neither side being too keen on sharing too much of their past, somehow, you still managed to fill hours with polite pleasantries. Some even showed you how to work around the ship, probably more than happy to give you some of their workload now. You didn’t mind. It was alright if it stopped you from overthinking everything that had happened in the past weeks. But it was still hard to do when you felt Eddie’s eyes on you. He’d watch you work the sails or anything else from afar, but when you’d try and catch him, he’d be suddenly occupied with something and walk away. 
The biggest surprise, however, came one evening when everyone had gathered for their final meal of the day. You had gotten your portion and were ready to return to the cabin when Robin pointed to the seat between her and Steve. You wanted to politely decline, feeling like you did not strictly belong in this dynamic—the crew’s meals felt more sacred, a moment for them to spend together, but they all saw your argument coming and shut it down. 
‘Never thought I’d say this,’ Wheeler, one of the lankier crewmates, said at some point, ‘but I might actually miss you.’ There was a cloud of agreeable laughter to which you belonged. It was funny, but what scared you was that you would miss them too when that eventual day of your return home would come. 
And it was coming.
Something about the air around you began to feel more familiar each day. And when you talked to Robin, you could sense that she knew how much time there was left. But each time you asked, she avoided answering straightforwardly. 
‘Not sure. But you know how seatravels are, you can never be sure… I mean, we should have been there days ago and yet,’ she laughed nervously, tying knots in a piece of old rope that someone had cut off once. 
‘I suppose you’re right.’ You had your own piece of rope and were toying with the frayed ends, pulling them apart mindlessly. You could hear Eddie talking to someone somewhere around, and you did your best not to look up. It had been days, but your tension still felt raw and strange. You wanted to simultaneously run into his arms and run away from him as far as possible, and you could not figure out which urge was the right one to follow.
‘It probably won’t take much longer, don’t worry.’ Robin said, her shoulder slumping as she untied another knot to remake it.
‘I’m not worried,’ you admitted. 
‘No, and you don’t need to be,’ Robin panicked, not wanting to give you the wrong impression of what she had intended to say, ‘but I’m sure you’ll be glad to be home.’ To this, you had no response because, very much like in your last days on your old ship, you had been eagerly awaiting your return home but did not feel like you were actually happy to go back. On top of that, you actually had the sense that you would miss this crew. By leaving, you would be leaving something behind, and you had never felt that before.
But it still did not feel right. Like a kink in your neck that you were trying to stretch out until it disappeared.
‘Can I ask you something?’ you said cautiously. 
Robin glanced up from her rope. ‘You always scare me when you say that.’ 
‘I hadn’t noticed I did it often.’ 
‘You’re quite inquisitive. It’s commendable, but dangerous.’
‘Should I be scared?’ You blinked. 
‘Not here, but in other parts of the world they’re not too keen on it, so just beware.’ She had tied a knot she couldn’t loosen anymore. ‘But what was your question?’ 
You took a deep breath. ‘Why did you target the Red Tail? And I know it was targeted, since the captain was aware what ship you were attacking.’ There was that other puzzle piece that was missing in your brain. How would he know if you were supposed to be on that ship or not? 
Robin froze and dropped her rope. You watched it fall to the ground and her reaching to pick it up clumsily. Once she did, she fumbled around even more with it. ‘I’m probably not the best person to ask this; I joined the crew late, I don’t know everything that’s going on around—’ she was getting distracted, losing the point of your question, or so you thought, ‘I had only heard things, but you have to know that people around here, we trust each other and that trust is earned. We might cheat once in a while in a game of cards or dice, but some things you just can’t lie about.
‘So, I didn’t need much convincing from the captain when he said that those— that those were bad men.’
‘He told you that my crew were bad men?’ 
‘They needed to be punished.’ Robin shrugged, but not in the way that made you think she thought indifferent. More so that, there was nothing she could do about it. It was a brief apology to you, not for what they had done, but as if she was sorry for being the bearer of the news. 
‘Punished for what?’ you asked, but Robin shook her head. Right, she wouldn’t be able to know, and you didn’t blame her. Was there anyone around willing to share more of the specifics of this situation? You felt like you had the right to explain what had brought you to their ship, but it would go past some lines of comfort for the men. Could you dare ask Eddie? 
But to ignore him for days just to come up with these questions could not be appreciated; then again, he owed you at least this after being the sole reason for your presence on this ship in the first place. He had caused all this mess. He could at least help you clean it up. 
You finished your conversation with Robin slowly, without any urgency to actually put it to an end. It must have been confusing to Robin, who saw how you tried to tie your sentences up to walk away, just to disentangle them just as she had been doing with her rope and keep pulling it back. Ultimately, she stopped it all and excused herself from the argument she needed back on her lookout post. She walked away, giving you this look that made it clear that she knew what you were planning to do and how apprehensive you were to do it. And whatever for? You had fought, punched, slapped and kissed Eddie in the past days without hesitation; why could you not just talk to him now?
Because that would actually mean something to you. It would unblur all the lines that connected you into a clear pattern, and you would have to live with those results, and you just were not ready for that yet. 
You took deep breaths as you walked up to the captain’s quarters. The door creaked as it slid open but was met with a resistant force as you collided with Eddie. He grunted lightly at the impact, and you began to apologise. 
‘Sorry,’ you mumbled, not expecting him to be so close suddenly. You had hoped to catch him at his desk, where the furniture could keep some kind of barrier between you. Still, now he stood mere inches away, towering over you and the heat of his body radiating onto yours. 
‘I was just on my way out.’ He scratched his beard casually, but his eyes said enough about how similarly he felt about your sudden appearance.
‘I hoped we could talk,’ you blurted out, and Eddie blinked.
‘Talk? Now?’ To this, you only nodded shyly. It had been too long. You had made him wait for days, which was simply too long. Why would he want to listen to what you had to say now? Eddie was ready to brush past you, but you were quicker, catching his arm and pulling eachother closer until your lips met in a chaste kiss. The suddenness stunned him, but for a blink of an eye before his muscles melted into position around you. It only confirmed your worst thoughts, how perfectly the two of you fit together, how your bodies simply locked into place with one another. The heat that grew between you could not only be felt by you. It was too strong for that. As much as you did not want to admit it, there was something there that you did not want to lose.
‘I’m sorry, ‘ you said breathlessly, ‘for everything I’ve done in the past few days.’
‘You have done nothing to apologise for.’ He sighed.
‘Exactly,’ you jumped back at how loud you sounded. Still, his pull on your waist kept you close, ‘I have done nothing, while I should have stayed here with you, and we should have talked of, of whatever it is that stands between us, but—but I was scared. I thought I hadn’t been, but I was, and that, in turn, scared me even more, so I thought I needed time to think—’ 
‘And did you?’ He looked down at you inquisitively like he was observing a strange, yet highly fascinating, phenomenon in front of him. Something that he should not be enjoying as much as he was. The unwanted smirk appeared on his lips no matter how hard he tried to hide it. It made you aware of just how much you had tried to say in what short of an amount of time.
‘Yes,’ you said with a slow breath to help you calm down. At this, Eddie simply reacted with a gesture telling you to go on, to tell him what kind of discovery you had made. Would it be anything that could help your conundrum? Clear things up in your heads and maybe even hearts? You could not be sure, but it was a start if you just let those parts of you speak freely.
You took one more deep breath. ‘That night you asked me if I was scared, and I said “no”, but…’ you pushed past the shake of your voice. ‘But I realise now that that wasn’t the truth.’ As you announced this, the hand on your waist tightened its grip before leaving your body entirely. The immediate lack of contact made you regret your choice of words. Maybe you should have prepared what to say, but letting it come out unrehearsed and unplanned felt like the right thing to do. It would not cut out any of the emotions you felt. What you wanted him to know that you thought, so you stammered out your following words.
‘There is so much that I am scared of.  It scares me how and how much I have changed in the past few days, and I am scared that I do not mind it. It scares me how much I enjoy being here and how much I want to be… with you.’ Your last words faded as you had not expected to hear yourself say them out loud. Eddie, who you had watched as he walked around the room in slow paces as he listened, must not have expected them, too, for he stopped to stare at you, dumbfounded.
‘Why?’ was the only thing he said in response. 
‘Because…’ you let out an exasperated sigh, walking up to him. You had somehow managed to find yourselves at his throne, ‘because this is not who I am supposed to be.  I shouldn’t be. You are you; I am me, and nothing here is right.’ Yet the puzzle had never fit tighter together than it did now. But at the same time… ‘As much as I want to spend my days with you, I cannot stop thinking about all the chaos you have caused in my life. Whether on purpose or not…There is blood on your hands, Eddie.’ there were tears in your eyes. Eddie looked down at his hands as if you had meant it literally. They were pale and had a shake to them, but he quickly put them down to his sides.
‘And yet you’re still here.’ He said it with a distance, more to himself than anyone else, narrating the events as if putting it all into words could make it make more sense somehow, and maybe to him, it did. However, you were still utterly clueless and running in the dark.
‘I am.’ You nodded your head lightly. ‘And I wish I could explain why. To you and to myself, but I simply do not know.’
‘Let me pose you these two questions then,’ he spoke sternly, and you got the unexpected feeling that this would be a test you had to ace. ‘Are you still scared of me? Do you regret anything that happened between us?
‘Answer yes to either of my questions,’ he held two fingers up, ‘and I will make all of this very easy for you and disappear. You will never have to see me again but be honest.’ Looking into his eyes the way you were, it was difficult to lie, or it would have been if you had any intention of doing so. The word came easier to you than anything else had in your life, but you still needed to know some things before sealing your fate.
‘Before I answer, I need to know your business with the admiral.’
Eddie scoffed, looking out the window, ‘I could not care less about the admiral.’ Something in him tensed up despite his attempt to make his reply come out casually. Everything besides his eyes, which flickered with so many emotions simultaneously, you could not distinguish between them soon enough.
‘But the attack on my ship was deliberate, was it not?’ You did not need this to become another one of your rows and spoke as carefully as you could manage. If one of you began to raise your voice or fill your words with anger, it would take over the other, exploding fatally in the middle, and that is not what you wanted.
‘What do you remember from that day?’ He looked at you, head cocked to the side as he studied your face. He saw you blink slowly, trying to understand what he was implying.
‘I remember everything.’ How could you not? It was one of the most terrifying days of your life. ‘I remember being on the deck and seeing your dark sails and how I hid under that desk as the canons went off–’ 
‘Whose canons?’ He stared at you blankly, and you mirrored him perfectly. 
‘What?’
‘What canons did you hear go off? Who shot first?’ He did not say anything else, just stood still as you tried to reply with confidence that you lost as soon as you gave your answer some thought.
Everything had happened so quickly, and it was so loud. All you had tried was to block it out. But you heard the bangs. They came from all sides, but the first one... the first one was the closest.
Eddie must have seen the recognition on your face. 'I know that those people were your friends. And I am sorry that that is how things-'
'But you said I was not meant to be on board. You knew what ship it was.' You cut him off at the memory. 'You would have attacked either way, wouldn't you?'
‘It is not that simple.’ He shook his head.
‘Isn’t it?’ 
‘No, and I wish I could explain, but I fear that whatever I tell you will only make you see the worst in me and them.' 
'You could at least try.' You reached for his hand, and a bit of you leapt in relief when you saw he did not pull away. 'I want to understand, Eddie. You do not know how horrible it is to live in this realm of uncertainty and oblivion.’
‘Would you rather live with the horrors of the truth?’ He asked genuinely, with the pain that exactly this truth had caused him in his eyes.
‘Is that not a choice I deserve to make by myself?’ You once again found yourself up against him. Funny how it always came back to this and how you would not have wanted it any other way.
‘You’ve said it yourself; I’ve hurt you enough times. I can not risk doing it again. I will not let myself do that.’ He brushed a strand of hair from your face, brushing his fingers over your cheek. ‘Now, will you please answer my questions?’
‘No,’ and with that, you answered both. Whatever tugged at you from the inside to feel such anxiety had nothing to do with Eddie.
On the contrary, you felt a sense of calm whenever you saw him. And you had wanted, really wanted, to regret those kisses, but you still dreamt of them at night, and it was all with a magical wonder that you wished to experience once more. Despite everything in your life that had led to this that would have told you to turn around and run away, you stayed firmly in your place in front of him with no intention of ever running away again.
Eddie leaned in, and you anticipated a kiss that never came as he spoke against the corner of your mouth, sending shivers down your spine. ‘I need you to say it, darling.’
‘I’m not scared of you, Eddie.’ The tremble in your voice had nothing to do with fear but all with the way he held you. His hand had moved down your cheek onto your neck, fingers wrapped around your throat, thumb caressing your jaw. His eyes pierced through you. ‘And I do not regret anything.’
You knew Eddie had seen all the far corners of the world. You must have come across the grandest of riches. Yet standing in front of him, you could not help but think how seeing Captain Eddie Munson beam his most genuine smile was the rarest and most beautiful treasure of them all. It was infectious; you could not help but smile at it. 
He let himself come close again, but just as your lips were about to touch, he spoke instead. Right against you, the hot air of his breath pricked at your skin with his light laugh. ‘Before all of this, had you ever imagined yourself here with me?’
As much as you had wished it was not true, ‘I did, actually.’ Your mind flashed to your dreams, the ones you had once thought were conjured up to plague you, but now you realised it was just your heart screaming out your deepest desires.
Like a reward, Eddie kissed your cheek for your reply. ‘Really? The princess had thought of me, a filthy pirate?’
‘I’m not a princess.’ You rolled your eyes playfully.
‘Out of all the things to dispute, you argue my words of affection?’ He chuckled, and you could feel the vibrations coming from deep within his chest. 
‘There was nothing else to correct.’ You wanted to laugh but instead gasped at the sensation of a little pinch on your side. While still occupied with leaving kisses on your face, Eddie pinched your thigh. You could feel the smile forming on his lips as he kissed your jaw. When he pulled away, you saw the mischievous glint in his eyes that once used to bring out fear of the worst in you.
‘Glad to know you haven’t changed too much, darling.’ There was a moment in which both of you took everything of the other in. You tried to soak in all his features from this small distance, for some reason feeling the need to remember them all. Meanwhile, he read your face for any signs of reluctance, which he found none of, giving him the sign to finally let your lips meet his again.
The kiss grew in strength by the fleeting second. It was messy and heated. The pent-up tension that had been sitting between you was finally finding its release. You held onto him tightly, one hand on his shoulder as the other rooted itself in his dark locks—which made you soon realise that the tiniest of motions of you caused a reaction in him as well, in the form of a low hiss as you pulled the hairs on the back of his neck. It had been an accident, as you tried to keep yourself up when the pleasure he brought you made you feel light as a feather.
With your urge to keep your bodies close, you quickly caught on Eddie walking backwards. You followed him mindlessly until he found his throne seat and pulled you along with him, right on top of his lap, making you lightly yelp from the suddenness of the drop.
‘Not scared of me yet, are you, princess?’ He smiled, brushing some hair out of your face.
‘No,’ your voice sounded like a hushed, airy whisper. You looked into his eyes. The warmth of them had burned up into a dark and hungry desire. Eddie smiled before kissing you again. 
‘Was this how you expected it to be,’ he murmured against your ear, ‘when you thought about us.’ 
‘No,’ you admitted. It was nothing like you had imagined. All your dreams had been of what you had thought he was; careless, dangerous, feeding off your fear. There had been none of this passion that you felt now. None of the heat, the tenderness or the feeling.
‘Anything you’d still like to change,’ he kissed the soft spot of skin behind your ear that made you shiver. 
‘No,’ you gasped as you repeated yourself. He had run your mind through a mill; words were hard to come by. All you could muster out was the one weak word and hum as you let your hand brush through his hair, but it didn’t make that one word any less true. Maybe on another day, you would have wished to change everything that had happened; before this moment, you would have changed every single interaction you had with the captain, but knowing it led to this moment, you would not want it any other way.
You let him take over all your senses, closing your eyes and breathing him—the rum, tobacco and sea air—in, the taste and touch of his lips and his rough hands. There was nothing, not anything or anyone, else to think about because why would you when this felt so good? Reality went lost on you until you felt his fingers dig into your side, a pain rushing through you. 
Both of you froze.
‘What’s wrong?’ Eddie immediately looked to where he had held you, pulling your shirt up to reveal the scar. The rough skin was a stark contrast to the rest of you. He met your eyes again. ‘Does it still hurt?’
‘It’s just sensitive.’ You wanted to push his hand away, cover the mark up again so neither of you had to be reminded of it. It had been a stupid mistake, that much you knew, and it was not as if you could change the past, so why let it pester you? But Eddie was not the kind to give up easily. He pushed the shirt material back up, keeping your hand away from him, to inspect the damage he had caused. 
‘I’ve done a lot in my life that I will forever regret,’ he kissed your shoulder as his thumb traced over the scarred line, ‘but this will probably haunt me the longest.’ His words and touch, combined with how you sat in his lap, got you lost for words. Because, of course, you had hoped that this was his sentiment; you understood and appreciated his words, but what else was there to say? The only thing you could think of replying, which felt silly to do, seeing your current position, was ask for some clarification.
‘What happened? I would have thought you had more control over your sword than that.’ You aired the conversation with a bit of laughter, but it only spurred him on.
 ‘I had thought so too,’ he kissed you sloppily, ‘I had hoped so,’ hungrily, ‘but I lost it all when I saw you with him.’
‘Who?’ you asked. Maybe under different circumstances, you could have thought more clearly to realise what he was speaking of, but that did not seem possible. 
‘Harrington,’ the name came out of him with a bitter taste. Apparently, the feelings from that day had not disappeared as far as he had thought, but now he could let these frustrations out in a less hazardous manner. It still took a toll on you, but there was no pain to speak of. Just pure pleasure. 
Still, the mention of the crew member had surprised you. ‘Why– why would you—’
‘The way he held you, smiled at you, don’t you think I had wanted to do that? From the moment I saw you—but all I did was drive you away. It was just another reminder of my failure and before I knew it I—’ he stopped himself, still unable to properly speak of what happened. You kissed the bridge of his nose. 
‘For what it’s worth,’ you tugged at the words to come out cohesively, ‘I never thought of him as—’
‘It does not even matter what you think of him,’ he laughed, more so at himself, ‘You could fall for and by happy with any man on this earth and I could make my peace with it. I just don’t want to be the reason for your suffering.’
‘I think—’ you smiled, considering everything that just happened, ‘I think you have managed to pay back any of your wrongdoings.’
‘Oh, darling, I haven’t even started to repay my debts to you.’ And so, Eddie kissed your neck, peppering you with the small kisses and nips, making you giggle and pull him closer into your arms. He kept going until the two of you simply fell into a comfortable silence. He held you tightly in his arms as you let your head fall on his shoulder. Only the sound of the rushing waves and your sweet breaths filled the room.
Once your heart settled back to a steady pace, you knew it wasn’t safe. As good as this moment felt, it wouldn’t last. Whatever this was, there was no possibility in which it would outlive this voyage. Then, once it was over, it would hurt. That much you knew. Possibly more than anything had hurt before, and you would just have to be on the lookout for that end until then to let yourself become at peace with it. There wasn’t another choice, as this idea always stayed with you in the back of your head from that moment on. When you fell asleep in Eddie’s arms that night, you thought how many more days you got to wake to in such bliss as you did the next morning.
You could not tell if Eddie had these troubles, you could not tell, for he went through his following days much like before. The only difference was that his free minutes were now occupied with you.
It had not been your intention to make it so obvious to the crew, but there was also so little you could hide from them. Nothing could escape the dozens of interested eyes, so why hide your affection towards their captain? He certainly was not making any attempts. Any chance he got, he found himself at your side, holding you, kissing you.
Your mornings and afternoons were much the same as they had been before the night of the storm and the Hellfire’s arrival at Saint Claire, as you still spent it in each other's company. The difference was now that instead of being separated by the large oak desk, Eddie would often pull you into his lap to sit in the throne, if not making himself comfortable with you on the bed. The nights began with kisses and limbs tangled with eachother and merged into a joined slumber. Unfortunately, as happy as your days felt, it would not stop the nightmares from coming, but each time you would awake in a cold sweat or with shaking hands, he would be right there to coax you back to peace. What surprised you, however, was that you would do the same to him. 
Somehow, the thought of the notorious captain waking up screaming in the middle of the night, chest heaving, eyes wide with fear, had never occurred to you. You had never imagined him reaching for your thigh to ground himself as his reality spiralled in the dark.
‘Shh,’ you held him tightly, ‘it’s okay.’ 
Neither of you asked about the dreams, knowing you could do nothing about them. You could just help the other through it. And then, each time, the dreams that followed were much sweeter. 
Then you’d wake up in each other’s arms long before the rest of the world seemed to. Those few blissful moments where nothing could disturb you and the time you could spend in that bed was endless. 
Except it very much was not. And you realised it exactly through what you thought would be your escape. 
It was a sunny morning. The golden sunrays illuminated the cabin as you reached for Eddie, just to find the side of the bed to be empty. Only his impression in the covers, the faint temperature his body had radiated onto them, was still there. It could not have been long since he had gotten up, and indeed, you caught him standing at the window—leaning against it, more like. His trousers were loose on his hips, and his shirt was still on the ground around you. 
 You walked over to him, and he looked in your direction as soon as he heard your footsteps. The smile in his eyes was genuine but weak. As soon as you were close enough, he pulled you into an embrace, twirling you around so your back would hit his chest and you could look out at the sea. With how the sunrays sparkled across the waves, it all felt like a dream, too good to be true, but you did not know yet that the dream was at the end of its tether.
‘I really am sorry,’ he mumbled, having his face already nuzzled in the crook of your neck, kissing the spot where it met your shoulder.
‘What for?’ Apologies had become a frequent appearance in his vocabulary, showing up in almost every conversation, if not sentence.
‘You know.’ Yes, you did know. For everything. He held a moment of silence, enjoying your presence in his arms for a little longer, before speaking again. ‘I just keep thinking about how everything between us happened, and if it had not been for me, we could have had more.’
‘I’m just as guilty.’ You had been stubborn, aggressive, and just as blind to your feelings. 
‘A highly doubtful statement.’ He laughed, and his breath tickled the hairs on your neck.
‘I don’t think so.’ You shrugged in his hold.
‘Still just as stubborn, aren’t you, princess.’ He squeezed you tighter. 
‘Is that not one of my most desirable attributes?’ You spun yourself around in his hold and quickly wrapped your arms around him. Doing so, hearing his tone and joy in his voice, you had expected to see him smiling, but he looked just as sombre as when you had walked up to him. ‘What’s wrong?’ Your hand mindlessly began to trace over the scars on his chest, knowing it brought comfort to both you and him by now.
Eddie shook his head, holding back a laugh. ‘You know…’ he kissed your forehead,  ‘when I woke up, I saw you lying there, with the sun shining on your face, and you looked so peaceful, I had honesty considered just locking you away and keeping you forever, but I am a man of my word, am I not?’
‘I…don’t understand.’ You tried to see the meaning behind his words in his eyes, but there was nothing, and it only got harder to figure out when he held his forehead against yours, keeping you close. You still tried to make sense of what he said when you saw it. There, in the far back corner of your eye. So far, it could have been a play of light, yet it was more real than anything. So undeniably real it crushed everything around you without question. 
From the angle the ship stood at, that was as much as you could envision through the windows, and thus you ran out of the room. As much as you did not want to leave Eddie behind, knowing it could be one of the last moments the two of you had, you ran out onto the deck to meet the silhouette of mountains against the rising sun. The longer you looked at it, the clearer the details became. The ridges of the mountains, the forests, the watch towers and houses. The uniformed ships that stood in the harbour.  
You knew this day was coming, you had been waiting for it, and yet, now that it was right in front of you, you wished to be as far from it as possible.
In what must have been shock, you took a couple of steps back just to collide with something—someone. You turned around to see Eddie and his soft but sad smile.
‘Welcome home,’ he announced.
Home, sweet home.
Your head turned between him and the land in the too-near distance, waiting for one of them to disappear, maybe even both. Why was this so difficult for your mind to comprehend? Why were the first words to come from your mouth, ‘Can we turn back?’ 
‘As much as I would want to,’ he sighed, ‘I’m sure they’ve noticed us by now.’ They must have. The watchers in those towers had the eyes of hawks, one of the reasons why your town was named after the bird.
‘So, what do we do?’ This is not how someone who is to be returning to their family after months spent with criminals was meant to respond. Everything about this was so wrong.
‘Go put your dress on.’ Eddie cocked his head back to the cabin. ‘I doubt they will appreciate you wearing this, as much as I adore it on you.’ That is when you realised you stood out on the main deck wearing only his shirt. ‘I’ll meet you in a few minutes.’ And with that, he gave you that look he had given you all those times before when you had been too headstrong in your own actions. Please, listen to me. It will be alright.
You walked back, feeling like you were floating, but not anywhere near the same way that you had the previous few days. It did not feel like you were weightless, on a cloud, free of worry or from the world. You were drifting. Far out into the abyss with nothing to hold on to. In this same state, you walked over to the wardrobe, where you had hung your dress, removed the item of clothing you had on and put on the old and tethered garment. It had once fit you like a glove, but you were far from the person it was measured for.
Just as you finished putting it on, the door opened, and Eddie walked in.
You didn’t want to look at him. Not because of anger, you had, after all, no reason to be angry at him at that moment, but because you were sure that if you looked into those brown irises again, you would break down. He must have had the same idea as you as he walked past you, only grabbing the nearest shirt off the rack, and making a headway to the desk.
‘What are you going to do now?’ After all, that had been what pulled you two together, the money your father would offer for your return. That is what kept you on this ship safe for as long as it did… although, in retrospect, you doubted that Eddie would have ever done anything to you. Maybe he had always intended to bring you home before even speaking to you. Perhaps the money made no difference. But funnily enough, you wanted him to get it. Something in you, a deep instinct, told you that it was what he deserved.
‘Write a random note,’ he said, and you could see he was doing his best not to laugh. ‘Then we’ll send the note out, hope it reaches your dearest, and we’ll make the exchange.’ His words were quick and emotionless, but you noted the hint of novice apprehension in his plan.
‘You’ve never done this before, have you?’ you asked as you made your way up to the chair across from him.
‘Try not to sound too disappointed over my lack of experience in selling beautiful maidens back to their prosperous fathers.’
‘Not at all,’ you shook your head, grabbing the piece of parchment and quill from him. ‘But let me. It will be proof of life, and besides, your handwriting is unrecognisable. He won’t be able to read any of it.’ 
Eddie stared at you blankly as you began writing. 
Dear father, 
But what were you to write? The ink dripped off the quill as you pondered on the words. For a message that was quite clear, it was hard to actually phrase it and write it out. By the time you had signed your name at the bottom of the page, the Hellfire had almost reached the coast. You read it through once more: 
Dear Father, 
I know it has been a long time since you last heard from me. The Red Tail is no more; I was the only survivor, to my knowledge, saved by a crew of rogue sailors. They have kept me locked away but are willing to free me for the price of  10.000 pounds. Please meet me at noon at the Star Port for the exchange.
Love, 
Your daughter, 
You had decided against the mention of piracy or anything specific about the ship’s sinking, knowing that it would only drive your father away from pain the ransom. Eddie had been unable to keep still while you wrote your drafts but now stood behind you, hands on the backrest of your chair, reading the note along with you, over your shoulder.
‘Who would have thought, my darling extorting her own father.’
‘I am doing no such thing!’ You looked up at him, ‘I am simply… aiding you in extorting my father.’ when it came to this, you had little sympathy for your father. He had plenty of money to spare and often spent it on ridiculous causes. A faux rescue of his only daughter could surely fit in between those other purchases.
There was a knock on the door, which Eddie welcomed, and Harrington walked in. 
‘Got any mail for me to deliver, cap?’ it had been unanimously agreed that Harrington was the most inconspicuous of the whole crew and would be able to walk through the city unbothered to deliver the message. 
You had just been in the middle of folding the parchment. The last thing left was to let the wax melt to keep the corners together. With the seal done, you handed Steve the letter. He smiled at you with thanks, but his face hid an expression of loss, almost. A farewell. But before he left, you clutched him in an embrace, almost knocking Steve over.
When the door closed behind him, it was only a matter of waiting. After your fifth round of pacing through the room, Eddie walked up in front of you, blocking your already quite well-outlined route. He had met you right in the middle. 
‘I would prefer if you did not spend our last moments together walking holes into my carpet.’ 
‘You do not have a carpet,’ you quipped. 
‘Must you be so difficult now?’ He laughed that laugh you cherished so much before he placed his hands on your cheeks and kissed you the way you adored even more. The sun was almost at its peak, and so was your heart, and you had no idea what to do when it would finally fall. Either way, you would find out in a few minutes.
‘Do you think—’ 
‘Highly doubtful,’ Eddie said somberly before you could even finish your thought. ‘You had said it yourself, darling; you are you, I am me. This is not meant to work.’ But what if it could, you wanted to shout, shocking yourself for the millionth time on board this ship.
‘Well, then it had been an honour being your captive, captain.’ You said with a deep breath to keep your composure up.
‘Well, then it had been an honour being your captive, captain.’ You said with a deep breath to keep your composure up.
‘Oh, don’t look so sad just yet, princess, the real fun is only about to begin.’ At this statement, you blinked slowly. ‘Or did you think you were done aiding me?’
‘What else do you need me to do?’ 
‘Since you mentioned it, I think we need to make you look the part of my sweet captive. Make your father believe we really had kept you all good and locked up, hmm?’ He grinned. ‘I really did not do a good job at this, did I? Got you all spoiled up here.’
‘It was much appreciated.’ You giggled, incapable of keeping a straight face when Eddie got like this. Looking back, you could barely imagine the cold and dark exterior that he had once posed in front of you since he had been an entirely different person underneath that. Then again, so were you. ‘So, what did you have in mind?’
‘A lot,’ he licked his lips, ‘but I don’t think we have the time for that. We’ll probably have to do with tying you up like a pretty gift—just your hands, of course,’ he quickly added as he saw your eyes widen. ‘And I’ll be sure to not make it too tight.
‘Alright,’ you nodded. After all, you trusted him. You watched him look through the room for something to wrap around your hands. In the end, he found a piece of rope hanging among the many items on his wall. It was a bit too long for even the intricate, but relatively weak, knot he tied over your wrists—enough to give the impression of captivity, but in reality, barely grazed your wrists. He made sure to check. 
And then it was time. You walked out of the cabin for the final time. The room in which you had spent so many tumultuous days and nights. A silly part of you wanted to actually run down the ladder into the lower deck to see the holding cell one last time. For what reason, you could not fathom. 
Eddie guided you with a hand on your back, down the gangplank, which wobbled with every step you took. You tried to keep your breathing under control, but then again, if this had been a real threat to your life, you would probably feel similarly. The walk down the harbour was the longest of your life. There just came no end to it, and you could not, frustratingly enough, make your mind up if you wanted that or not. After all, each step closer to the port was one step further away from him… and when had you become so dependent on him? Weeks ago, you had thought up visions of killing him in his sleep; now, you could not think of life without him. 
Your thoughts were still fighting for some kind of cohesion when you saw him walk down the street. Accompanied by his usual entourage of guards. Two of them carried a large trunk between them, which must have been filled with gold or other treasures to meet the demand.
‘Papa!’ You screamed out; an incautious urge to run towards him propelled you forward, just to be pulled back by Eddie. You glanced his way, and your breath hitched at what you saw. In the short amount of time that might have felt like an eternity that it took you to walk down the harbour, he had turned into what you could only describe as his old self. The same version of him that you had seen when you were “welcomed’ aboard the Hellfire. The Eddie that terrorised your nightmares. His eyes were pointed like daggers at your father. 
He, in turn, stood aback at the sight of who had been holding you. Most of the men around him did, in fact. It caused a bit of a stir, the murmur of his name travelled in disbelief, but Eddie was the first to speak up in full volume.
‘Governor. I see we meet again.’
‘Munson.’ Your father always had the skill to look unimpressed at the sight of any man, always seeming to be above them, and even now, he did a good job hiding any other emotion, but you could see the crack of fear breaking him on the edges. It was, however, quickly replaced as he spoke in his usual tone of business.
‘Munson. What are you doing here?’
‘Why, returning your precious jewel, of course.’ He grinned, pulling you closer to him. Some of the guards leapt forward but were stopped by your father and Eddie, who reached for the knife at his side. All eyes were on you and him as he let the blade slowly track over your arm. ‘Don’t wanna do that, gents. It will only cost us more trouble.’ 
‘You got the gold, Munson, now let her go!’ There were still several feet between the two sides of the deal. Eddie looked around theatrically. 
‘Do I?’ He cocked his head in his own direction. The two men in charge of the trunk hauled it over to you. You had no idea how Eddie was meant to carry it back to the ship. As they brought the gold over, your father spoke again. 
‘Is she well? Unharmed?’ 
You nodded, but Eddie nudged you with the hilt of his knife, his lips against your ear, ‘C’mon, darling, the man’s asked you a question.’
‘I am fine, father.’ You spoke. By that point, the men reached you and, with a final kiss to your temple, Eddie let you go. You were immediately pulled out of his reach by the guards. They must have thought they were holding you up as your legs objected to moving. You were unable to look away from him. All up until you felt your face pressed against your father’s jacket. 
‘There, there, it is alright,’ he hushed, and it took you a moment to realise why. You were crying. And if only he, or anyone else, understood that it was for all the opposite reasons. No fear or relief was escaping you through those tears. It was a loss as you saw Eddie standing there, bowing down at the end of his performance, blowing you a kiss goodbye.
It was the panic when you saw the rest of the people in the harbour. All of their eyes on you. On him. None of them were simple bystanders or civilians. 
Your dream had been crumbling into ruin all these days, but this was the final blow. All of it came down, all at once, and it started with your father’s call.
‘Guards!’, and suddenly the tenfold of guards appeared out of all possible directions. They had him surrounded, weapons at the ready. Eddie had nowhere to run. Your father spoke clearly, cutting the silence with the blade of his words. ‘Munson, I arrest you on charges of murder and high treason!’ 
Chapter 10
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thank you so much for reading!! if you want more of where this came from, check out my masterlist.
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ralfstrashcan · 5 years
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3x18 Reaction / Commentary
Anxious feeling of imminent doom in my gut? Check. Skipping breakfast in favor of running to my laptop like a starving person? Check. Chances of surviving this episode with my sanity intact? Uhhh.... Well here goes nothing.
But one more thing before we get started (Does anyone wanna get out? Yeah, me!!!! Okay sorry.)
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Who's this mysterious “Alex” person?? A new player on the board???
Alright alright, I'm stalling, I know. It's weird, last week couldn't pass quick enough but now I really don't wanna click the play button... okay anyway you're probably not here to read my angsting, so. Deep breath and here goes.
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In terms of putting my nerves at ease this is working out pretty good. I love Becky, okay, and her sibling ship with Simon and the Sneak Peek made me real happy and I can't wait to see more of those two together (especially considering this'll probably be her last appearance on the show). So, yeah Team Lewis! (Also that comment about them and Clary never missing a Halloween together? I need all the kid fics!!!)
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Lol dude I mean you literally died for knowing about it, but sure, make an understatement XD Also, “all the way from Florida”??? Last thing I knew about her she was lying in a hospital bed a week ago (aka 3A)? When did she get released? And relocated? I missed that???
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:D :D :D <3<3<3
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Queen Izzy :))))))) btw those kids had seriously lacking survival skills if you ask me. That wasn't normal, right? And where were their supervisors??
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Effing f-i-n-a-l-l-y.
Also, Magnus with the deflecting again as soon as he's recovered just the tiniest bit is both painfully ic and also just painful </3
Ugh, can you believe Clace entered the Malec scene even though they must have felt it was a bad time and deranged it with their flirting? Unfair. In any case I agree, Clary was always and will always be an idiot XD haha okay sorry, I don't really mean that (only like, 83%) it's just the setup was too good to pass it up ;) I mean even Alec laughed at Jace calling her an idiot so I'm well within my rights to do it, too XD
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Thanks, Alec, for sabotaging the one shot at open communication you had. I mean, I want to believe he does it because he realizes Magnus is back to his deflecting self and prodding will get him nowhere, but uhm, could he try for longer than three seconds before giving up? Is he really gonna let Magnus off the hook so easily and do something stupid and reckless instead?? *sigh* BUT ALSO HIS FRAKKING FACE OKAY I CAN'T
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“Back from the Plot Fold”
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Alec “Tact” Lightwood looooool
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“Bitch I worked on this performance for centuries how dare you”
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SO. MANY. QUESTIONS.
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sdfshfsjdkfjsdf I love the way he talks okay. Exquisite. (Also he has a birthmark on his lip. It's really distracting. Am I implying Asmodeus is hot? Maybe. You can't prove a thing.)
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............................................................your self-confident didn't make any progress since season 1, did it, Alec? *sigh* I mean he's basically agreeing with Asmodeus that this is what will happen if their situation doesn't change.
Okay what is structure, let me just yell my impressions of this scene at you. 1) Both of their acting is stellar. Love all the little body language cues, especially Asmodeus's mocking facial expressions. 2) “Return what you stole” and Asmodeus protesting it because clearly he had a “fair deal” with Magnus. 3) Alec breaking eye contact whenever Asmodeus lands a hit (“One he already regrets.” “You make him vulnerable, weak.”) 4) The fact that Alec protests the potential-line with “We love each other.” I was confused at first but when you think about it Alec says that they help each other access their full potential by loving each other and that's a beautiful sentiment. 5) Of course then Asmodeus lands another hit with “Then I'm afraid you will be the death of him” and Alec is back to looking away.
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Thank you, Alec, for not being a total idiot.
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“...or else the deal is off.” Obviously. Thank you, Asmodeus, for not being a total idiot either.
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.........did he just nod? I knew I was right making that 'total' italic, implying he's still somewhat of an idiot XD
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sooooo pretttyyyyyyyyyyyyy
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And I can't believed Clary missed Luke so much she visited him in prison a total of 0 times.
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Look I'm weak and I dig the Jace-Luke-father-son-in-law-dynamic.
Also can we take a moment to appreciate the fact that Alec is able to function as Head of the Institue even though he has to make the hardest decision of his life at the same time?? Just saying. Guy knows how to handle his shadowhunter responsibility. If only he was as capable in handling other things and omg this is not an innuendo you naughty people, I meant emotional intelligence goddammit.
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I mean, he's not wrong? The way he cares about her is uniquely twisted, so.
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.........................is Alec having 2x12 flashbacks? Because I sure am.
Hmmmm always admiring Clary's screaming skills :)
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*sigh* I mean she didn't just SAY intense pain for a short while? Why am I even bothering.
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The scientist has spoken lol.
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1) They had a whole underground basement full of tons and tons of that serum, right? If those are all made up of nanoparticles then I really really wonder how big the Glorious splitter was that they extracted the serum from. Since, you know, that whole stash was supposed to be enough for the Downworlders all over the world. Wtf 2) I guess “self-destructing” that basement is gonna come back to roost them and they need to recover the original sword to eliminate the Evil Rune, right???? haha
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Asmodeus wrote: Hurry up pretty boy, our deal isn't on the table forever ;)
I'm actually impressed Jace remembered to ask Alec about the proposal. You get some more diligence starlets, Jace <3
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OMG ALEC ARE YOU SHITTING ME ARE YOU SHITTING ME ARE YOU SHITTING ME *sigh* I mean, those two situations are obviously totally comparable, right? I for my part am, again, having severe 2x12 flashbacks, where Alec asked Jace's council about something that Jace totally wasn't equipped to answer. *SIGH*
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And I guess Jace isn't suspicious because of Alec's super suspicious behavior, right?????? Ugh.
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The sad part is, Alec will probably see that as confirmation that he should go through with it because he doesn't want to be selfish. So while yay, Alec seeking council, he does it in the worst way possible :( at least I got some parabatai feels out of it :/
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On the one hand I'm glad she sees it that way* on the other hand this is clearly supposed to be the influence of the rune, so that's kinda undermining her statement and making it even less credible. Thanks, show.
*Yes he was a victim, no he still carries some responsibility for his actions because free will is a thing and he's had some time on earth where he wasn't exactly coerced by anyone. Manipulated, yes. But he's aware of his agency and he should have used it better. I get that I'm asking for a lot here, maybe too much, and circumstances were always against him, but I'm also not absolving him of all his crimes.
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Magnus deflecting because that's what he does. God forbid a scene that could be about him actually ends up being about him instead of a side pairing I couldn't care less about. *sigh*
Also, I'm not exactly sure if Magnus really thinks Alec thought being around Maryse could help him, or if he just said that as another means to deflect because honestly, the way Alec suggested to Magnus he go to Maryse was more the here-go-see-your-babysitter-approach than anything else, especially because he basically cut of the conversation they where having before Clace interrupted. *SIGH*
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WELL I COULD
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YOU NO FRIKKIN SAY, MARYSE
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“My lips are sealed.... especially about my issues ¯\_(ツ)_/¯”
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THE DISDAIN AHAHHAHAHA CATCH ME WHEEZING ON THE GROUND
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!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!SEELIE QUEEN IS QUEEN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
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Is this.... actually......... a scene with Alec and Izzy???? HELL YEAH
Okay, words. First off, I LOVE that Alec spills all the beans, and to Izzy, the one emotionally capable Lightwood. I mean, yay Jalec and all, but it's an universally acknowledged truth that Lightwood Men seem to be pretty unable to handle their emotions in a productive way.
Second off, the music playing in the background? Is the one from the Malec Breakup Scene from 2x18. Yay mood reference, I mean. Thanks for that lovely detail, show. (Hahahaha I don't even know if I'm sarcastic or not because it's so witty but on the other hand it's just cruelly twisting the knife like r u for real man give me a damn break.)
Third off, I love basically every line of this dialogue. The fact that Alec (or anyone really) FINALLY acknowledges that Magnus gave up his powers and saved Jace for Alec. Alec's argument: “Magnus sacrificed everything so I could feel whole and now I have the chance to do the same for him.” Also that wording, “a chance”? Not an obligation, not a repayment of a dept. A chance. Because he loves Magnus and this is his chance to fix it. (In his eyes at least, pssssh.)
And Izzy's intent “He wouldn't want this. He loves you so much.” So valid. And less biased (aka skewed by shitty self-esteem) than Alec's assessment of the situation.
Also this
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Ouch, just. Ouch. So ic.
Also this
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Izzy asking all the right questions. The way Alec looks away means “No” and the determined way he meets her gaze again after means “But that doesn't matter.” Very good scene.
(Honestly the only thing I would have wished for is that Izzy is a little more firm in her assertion that Magnus wouldn't want this and she like, tries to change Alec's mind instead of just accepting his decision.)
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hehehe :)
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The same time you moved to Florida apparently.
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hahaahahha <3<3<3 kick-ass sister material
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.........<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3 this deserves so much recognition okay. Since we all know drinking away his problems is Magnus's No 1 coping mechanism. Too bad he'll be pushed into his liquor again by Alec unwisely breaking up with him at the end of the episode (because I daren't dream of a change of heart on Alec's side.)
Also is this the part where Maryse blabs out Alec's proposal plans??
Ugh yay, so after Maryse reassuring Magnus that they are all here for him I guess the breakup is just gonna get 5 shades uglier. Yaaay.
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Love that necklace damn.
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Obligatory Sizzy moment in front of Becky so she can call Simon out on it later: Check. Just glad this role doesn't fall to Raphael. (Also you bet your ass I chose Becky's line as a picture for this because I'm really that petty.)
Also omg, I just peeked into the German dubbing because obviously the Count von Count pun doesn't work because the words for Count and the word for counting aren't the same here and the guy is named Graf Zahl. And just skdjfslkdjfklsdjfkld Simon's line “That does sound really made up” is honest to God transated with “You're right, I just made him up” like oh my God who is in charge of translating this and why are they so incompetent honestly!!!!!!!! W H Y
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Lol that's gotta be the first time in his life that he called her Isabelle. Probably because she was slacking off during patrol.
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AAAAAND I'M WHEEZING AGAIN AHAHHA HER OFFENDED FACE Honestly the seelie queen and Becky should start a comedy spin-off, I'd be watching the shit out of that XD
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HAHAHAHAH HAVE MERCY XD XD XD Then again, can you blame Simon? Izzy is sooooo droolworthy.
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1) She's gonna let Alec, Jace and Clary (two and a half shadowhunters ahaha) take on a whole nest of demons alone? Instead of backing them up? Okay???
2) Why they telling them that??? As far as they are concerned Simon and Becky are civilians, not their parents.
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?????? NO SHE SHOULD TAKE BECKY WITH HER!!!!!!!! CAN YOU IMAGINE BECKY TOURING THE INSTITUTE? BECKY MARVELING AT ALL THE UNREALISTIC SHADOWHUNTER TECH?? BECKY KIDDING AROUND IN THE LAB??? I WAS ROBBED!!!
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:)))) even Jace breaking out the comedy :D :D :D I approve
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Those are some nice wings. Not perfect, but very very nice.
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ARE YOU KIDDING ME HAHAHAHAHAHAH
Okay, Parabatai Fight Scene!!! 1) Jace again with his axes, nice.
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2) Being sassy instead of, idk, picking up his weapons: Check.
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3) True dat, but uh, Jace, what was the plan if Alec hadn't shown up? Inviting Drevak Queen out on a date?
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4) I mean, why shoot one when you can shoot five, right? Good motto. But I still kind of want an explanation how two of those arrows could land in the Drevak Queen's head and the other three in her chest, like, what are physics anyway amiright?
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5) Shot meant to make Jace look heroic when really, since we earlier learnt that killing the Drevak Queen kills all her spawn*, this was just Alec doing Jace's work for him XD
*Uh, yeah what the hell is up with that. Chitauri Genetic Defect or something? *sigh*
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*Feelings of terrible foreboding intensify*
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sssssssssssssssssssssssudden
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Look, I agree. I just don't think Maia could really comprehend / accept that so fast (and off-screen) because ugh reasons, too tired to repeat myself again *waves hand unhelpfully* but whatever, I can accept this. I made my peace with it.
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1) Last time I checked those cells were secured with a combination lock thingy.
2) Thanks Lanaia for sabotaging Sizzy, I'll be sure to send you a gift basket (or, if what I think will happen happens, some flowers for your grave lol).
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*snorts* Reminds me of Hannibal who was always making cannibal puns at people and no one noticed XD Also, her knocking Jace out was really dumb? I mean, he wouldn't have stopped her from saving Jonathan because, uh, that's saving her own neck, too. And if she'd portaled them both to the cell she could have disposed of him there way easier, locking him up – since apparently she didn't plan to kill him, and that nice straightjacket would have kept him from alerting the other Shadowhunters way longer than that pipe over the head. So, wholly unnecessary. I mean, in a way it's nice to know that Demonic Clary isn't smarter than Regular Clary.
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Dude she's literally wielding a spear, how dumb are you.
Aaaaaand there goes my order to the nearest funeral wreath shop XD
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Look I have questions (which, okay, I should have asked sooner but what even is continuity right). When that weird gratifying wing dream sequence started I thought it was Clary tapping into the rune connection and it was the real Jonathan communicating with her. When Jace entered the play field it was clear at least some part must be fake because Jace sure as heck wasn't unconscious / in trance at the time and later didn't give any indication that he participated in some creepy contest for Clary's affections. But now Jonathan is surprised by this, too? He, too, was a product of Clary's imagination? I have so many questions, first of all, why the wings? And the really cheap back-white-symbolism? Also, why did Clary feel so drawn to Jonathan if this was all in her own mind? Was it the influence of the Evil Rune? Does the Evil Rune have a user interface that's shaped to look like Jonathan? Does that mean Jonathan has a Clary-shaped interface??? I need answers.
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Ugh. Let's make this long and painful, shall we.
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OF COURSE IN THE ONE SCENE WHERE SHIT WILL GO DOWN THEY DON'T FAIL AT CASUAL INTIMACY THANK YOU FOR  N O T H I N G
Let's not talk about the fact that the thought, Alec could mean anything but a break together from everything that's been going on, doesn't even cross Magnus's mind because no. Noooooo. I'd rather talk about how absolutey awesome both of their acting is. For Alec I really like the way he moves his eyes, like the gaze darting around alternating with the rigid stare. For Magnus, uh, everything, just like, his whole face is perfection?? Yeah, that works.
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The way he interrupts because he just needs to get this over with as quickly as possible.
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Dammit, he does this eyelid dip here, it's not a blink, it's just his eyelids twitching down for a second because this is like a slap in the face. And then he turns and takes a step away because his instinct is to run from this because what is this, this can't be
“Is this about last night? Because I'm going to quit drinking.”
Magnus “forever apologizing for being an 'inconvenience'” Bane, final installment.
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Dammit, his face. And again with the deflecting, trivializing his feelings, anything to keep this conversation from going where he thinks it's going.
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*EYE ROLL* Sorry but you don't get to play that card after being effin obtuse for 7 episodes, Alec. Nope. Nope.
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Magnus, his usual walls rudely ripped away. He has no chance but to admit how shitty he's feeling. And if it wasn't for the circumstances I'd say “yay, finally some communication” but well.
“Fine. I'm in pain,” he says, and Alec turns away, breaking eye contact for a moment because the final confirmation is too much for him for a moment.
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I love that Magnus doesn't deliver this line meekly. He's worked up, sure, but there's also a confidence when talking about their relationship. Breaking up is an unrealistic concept to him in that moment because it's so absurd. It's not fixing anything so why would it happen? Makes no sense. *insert weeping sounds*
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Brutal and efficient. Very ic.
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Damn how does even his blink convey so much vulnerability??? (Somewhere Lexa is nodding approvingly.) (Also why didn't I find gif sets of this :c)
“You said there's nothing I can do to make it better.”
There's an audible difference in his voice, because this part is true and he's not lying. The controlled monotone isn't there anymore. This is his real despair in the face of not being able to do anything to help Magnus.
“It's not your job to make it better.”
Again, if this was a constructive conversation it would be a great step in the right direction. But sadly it isn't, and so this is too little too late.
“Well, what am I supposed to do? Just stand by and watch you suffer for the rest of our lives?”
Alec is still speaking the truth, and this is his motivation to go through with it. Because a) he believes what Magnus said about never being happy again without his magic (sidenote, he didn't, in fact, say that, he said it might never pass (meaning being affected by the magic loss) and he's not happy at the moment, which isn't the same as he'll definitely surely never be happy again without his magic, but whatever) and b) he's sure he doesn't mean all that much to Magnus. He's his current love, but that's about it. Nothing special, not worth leaving such devastating traces in Magnus's life and he certainly doesn't mean as much to Magnus as Magnus means to him. And especially from that second part stems his gravely false assessment of the situation which in the course of consideration leads him to the conclusion that breaking Magnus's heart will hurt less in the long run than him not having his magic. There's also the fact that be probably didn't think about how him doing this to Magnus will confirm every last insecurity Magnus ever had about not being lovable, because I can't believe he would have gone through with this if he'd thought of that. Or at least, he would have been visibly more torn about it, maybe even talked out of it by Izzy, etc. But it's ic for Alec not to think like that, because in a way I guess he loves Magnus too much to really understand that Magnus has these doubts. And Magnus mostly playing his vulnerabilities close to his chest isn't working in his favor here either.
“This isn't you. You're not this selfish.”
This is what I mean. If Alec was less convinced that he's doing the right thing this line might have shaken him out of it. Honestly, I half hoped he'd object this, consequentally incriminate himself and Magnus would catch on that something was going on. But ofc that didn't happen.
The spark line, just. Ouch. Again, very clinical and minimalistc. The way Alec stares, his voice back to being monotone, the way he clenches his jaw. And then his work here is done and he's ready to leave.
It only gets worse from there. Magnus, frozen in disbelieve because this can't possibly be true, and then he starts begging and it breaks my heart every single time okay. To see him reduced to this desperation is just cruel.
I still can't help but note the way Alec readily turns around before Magnus has competely turned around himself. I think he was on the brink of giving in.
The way Magnus holds on to him, hands fluttering over his arms, shoulders, cheeks. The way Alec can't even look at him for the barest second, eyes closed, breath going heavy. Magnus's everything. Just kill me now.
And let's not talk about their kisses and Magnus's whispered words because no. There's nothing to say to that except perfection. Intense, top notch emotion portrayal on both parts.
Then Alec pulls away (how???? gotta admire commitment and an iron will when you see it but boy is it misplaced) and Magnus's hands tremble because this can't be happening, this can't possibly be real.
Note that Alec doesn't look him in the eyes once because he knows if he did, it'd all be over. Also note the look of utter betrayal on Magnus's face. It's not just hurt and heartbreak, it's betrayal because this is what this is. Alec promised him something, made him believe that he could trust in him, in them, and now he's going back on his word.
Well, this was fun, let's never do it again.
Look, I don't have the nerve for this anymore, so I'll keep it short and in no particular order: - Asmodeus is ass powerful and manages to distance-summon himself, yay, nice to know that the one time a shadowhunter doesn't act stupid and impulsive it still doesn't pay off. - Asmodeus killing pissed off warlock lady was both obvious and unnecessary. - His smile is creepy. - “My son needs me.” MY ASS - He still needs to support himself on the back of the chair because he's a weak bitch hahaha.
Conclusion: *sounds of despair*
I just watched the 3x19 promo and.... they're really gonna end Malec on a train wreck this season, aren't they?? Oh God. They hoped they'd have a forth season to work through it and that's why they served themselves with issues and second helpings of extra issues, and since s4 isn't a thing we're gonna get an unsatisfying as hell 2x20-style resolution in the finale. God please say I'm wrong but like. Arrgghhhh.
(Also, credit where credit is due: “Before we get started, does anyone wanna get out?” is the line from Captain America in TWS before the elevator fight.)
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rayonfrozenwings · 6 years
Text
Rayonfrozenwings Masterlist and Explanation.
Updated 16th September 2018.
::: Find the list below the intro:::
:: Intro ::    
These Fan theories have been released from after EOS as that is when I joined Tumblr, I lurked for a long time in the fandom, only liking and not re-blogging, then I started adding comments to other people’s posts, eventually re-blogging them. I was a serial lurker. haha. There is some amazing theories out there especially if you look for ‘tog6 theory’ in the fandom on older blogs - a time before we knew “Tower of Dawn” was going to be a full book. 
I have tried to source other Url’s in my theories if I expand on a point or want to give credit for the fact that they also had this type of theory, coz it's not cool to take other peoples ideas if you know they are out there (same ideas unknowingly being shared are ok because we can draw the same conclusions - I’m just sharing how I work and I like to give credit where it is due).  
As different books came out my theories changed.
As I re-read for the third or fourth time, my theories changed.
Some of my Theories I like.
Some I have drifted away from, like a friend you no longer see because you’re too busy.
Some I think might still be valid - if only a small proportion of them.
I write theories with an open mind. I put them out into the world with the hope that people will discuss them with me when I do that. Some of my theories weren’t really seen by others because I was/am a small blog and I’m ok with that. And some theories blew up because a few big blogs shared it and i’m ok with that too.
If you disagree with the Erilea post I have written, I keep an open mind to all possibilities.
And The reason I choose not to fully believe SJM’s tweet about ACOTAR and TOG being linked is because of three reasons. The first is that she said they could live in the same multi-verse (so a “sliders” style parallel universe perhaps?). The Second is that she used a winky face! A winky face in the tweet. What does that mean!!!! And the Third is that I read another book series by Terry Brooks and he said his series were not linked for the longest time. Then years later he said -oh yeah, they are linked and this series is kinda a prequel but I couldn’t tell you that at the time, because “spoilers”. And I think Sarah would twist the truth to keep us from looking too closely and ruining our own enjoyment of her books. Also it is just a theory. Does it really matter? Pretend its an AU type of thing :P.
However some of them I really really am invested in (e.g. my Truth Teller theory because it just feels so right to me and the Weavers Lament because it feels right too). And I just really really want to be told that I have something right!
::So without further ado ::
I’m making a Masterlist of my work. Mostly Theory but I dabbled in some fic writing as well, it just depends on my mood. So I have also included some of those pieces. Theories tend to come thick and fast when a new book is released and discussed. Or when we all re-read before the next book comes out - as you will see by my published dates. Have a browse - I’ve left the this as Url’s rather than hyperlinks because it makes it easier for me to keep track of what I do and don’t have listed. I may change it later if I feel like it. :D
I hope I found everything, sifting through my long ass blog is annoying.
*** THIS IS NOT SPOILER FREE: I AM CURRENTLY UP TO DATE WITH ALL SJM’s BOOK RELEASES (except Kingdom of Ash - as it hasn’t come out yet). I TALK ABOUT BOTH SERIES IN POSTS. IF YOU HAVE ONLY READ ONE SERIES I CANNOT GUARANTEE THAT THE THEORY WILL BE SPOILER FREE FOR THE OTHER ONE. ESPECIALLY WHEN I HAVE CROSSOVER THEORIES. ***
:: RAYONFROZENWINGS MASTERLIST ::
Posts are in Order of Date Published on Tumblr. 
Most Recent First. (NEW) September 16th 2018 - The Interconnection of ACOTAR and TOG and what this means for Kingdom of Ash.
https://rayonfrozenwings.tumblr.com/post/178126351358/the-interconnection-of-acotar-and-tog-and-what
May 5th 2018 - Renee’s crazy amalgamation of theories - Part 2.
https://rayonfrozenwings.tumblr.com/post/173589912933/part-two-an-addition-to-renees-crazy-theory
May 4th 2018 - Renee’s Crazy Amalgamation of Theories after reading ACOFAS. 
- https://rayonfrozenwings.tumblr.com/post/173572241063/renees-crazy-amalgamation-of-theories-after
March 5th 2018 - Maeve as Lani the Goddess of Dreams
https://rayonfrozenwings.tumblr.com/post/171540195098/fan-theory-maeve-as-lani-goddess-of-dreams-and
And https://rayonfrozenwings.tumblr.com/post/171540160743/what-if
the quick summary of that theory. Maeve as the first embodiment of desire in the universe.
March 5th 2018 - Creepy Foreshadowing in HOF (Also here is a link to a fan fic based on this topic written by someone else - it can also be found in the reblogs of my post as I didn’t know it existed before writing mine.)
https://rayonfrozenwings.tumblr.com/post/171528748258/guys-there-is-some-creepy-foreshadowing-in-heir-of
Feb 20th 2018 - A New Acolyte, a tiny fan fic.  
https://rayonfrozenwings.tumblr.com/post/171084627053/a-new-acolyte
Jan 6th 2018 - The Weavers Lament - A Poem based on my Theory assumptions. (most of these theory assumptions were made on my acc ‘reneestowerofdawnspoilers’ because I was trying to keep my freak outs contained to a side blog after reading TOD).
https://rayonfrozenwings.tumblr.com/post/169363770928/the-weavers-lament
Nov 6th 2017 - Truth Teller and the Subtle Knife https://rayonfrozenwings.tumblr.com/post/167176210028/truth-teller-vs-the-subtle-knife
A Theory about Azriel’s Blade Truth Teller, and how Elain was able to kill the king of Hybern.
Nov 4th 2017 - Part One and Part two on The Archeron sisters, their possible link to the fates and the origins of their family.
PART 1 - The Archeron sisters as the fates.
https://rayonfrozenwings.tumblr.com/post/167094350393/the-archeron-sisters-as-the-fates-moirai-part
A Theory about the sisters as fates - Lachesis as Nesta, Clotho as Feyre, and Atropos as Elain. This then moves into part 2 …
PART 2 - Speculation on the Archeron Mother
https://rayonfrozenwings.tumblr.com/post/167094408403/speculation-on-the-archeron-mother
Where the mother is possibly linked to the Mercenary in ACOTAR and a goddess.
Nov 3rd 2017 - Starfall and the Wild Hunt
https://rayonfrozenwings.tumblr.com/post/167067744473/starfall-and-the-wild-hunt-a-acotartog-fan
An ACOTAR and TOG Crossover Theory, involving why Amren is so afraid of Starfall, the importance of Wyrd Gates and Wyrd Keys, The hounds of Erawan.
Nov 3rd 2017 - Galaythanius - name stuff
https://rayonfrozenwings.tumblr.com/post/167074118023/ok-so-i-posted-a-theory-about-starfall-and-the
Just me jumping to conclusions about a link between a name that sounds like galaythanius and Artemis.
Oct 19th 2017 - Erilea
https://rayonfrozenwings.tumblr.com/post/166565225118/erilea
A Theory about a possible crossover of Erilea and Prythian..
Have a look at the gif I made to see if you want to read it... >.<
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Some of my Older Theories below have the assumption that ACOTAR is based on a bible based world or at least some of the characters are. However my thoughts have changed since writing these theories. I didn’t understand how much from all mythologies and religions around the world cross-over, so It's possible this is still true, or that SJM drew some ideas from it; but it's equally possible that she drew from greek/ roman/ norse/ egyptian/ jewish/ christian / folk tales etc etc. it is very hard when theory is an ever evolving process involving lots of discussion and viewpoints. So I still love these theories but I do recognise that anything is possible. Also comparative theology would be freaking amazing to study and I kind of wish I was still at uni.
Oct 14th and 15th 2017 (A collection of theories based on the Bible)
- The Story of Prythian
https://rayonfrozenwings.tumblr.com/post/166412696743/the-story-of-prythian
- Feyre as Jesus Christ and Saviour
https://rayonfrozenwings.tumblr.com/post/166412698178/feyre
- Angels - Fallen Angels and The Prison, Amren, Bryaxis, The Bone Carver and Styrga.
https://rayonfrozenwings.tumblr.com/post/166412699068/angels
- Angels continued - High Lords as Descendants
https://rayonfrozenwings.tumblr.com/post/166412700453/angels-continued
- Origins of the Illyrians - The fall of the Watchers
https://rayonfrozenwings.tumblr.com/post/166412701713/origins-illyrians
- Predictions based on this series of theories
https://rayonfrozenwings.tumblr.com/post/166412704178/acotar-fan-theory-predictions-past
and i’m done.. for now. Acofas is only 2 more sleeps away, so i’m  sure I’ll think of something else soon. >.<
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vyragosa · 6 years
Text
vyra, i was so inspired & encouraged by you posting ur fanfiction!  i loved it so much!  i had written this a week or so ago, but i didn’t have the courage to figure out how to send it. 
i dont know i want to put my name to it because i dont think tonbokiri and sengo are fully in character (though i would like to grow as a writer until i can write them well), and i also dont want to spam ur blog with it, but i did write it as a kind of “thank you” for streaming mihotose the other week, and i thought that, if you have the courage to post yours, then i want to have the courage to send you this gift, even if mine isn’t all that good.  
because of its length, don’t feel pressured to post it onto your blog if you don’t want to! i don’t mind either way. it’s entirely up to you, because as far as i’m concerned, it’s your gift for you to do with what you like.  you don’t have to comment on it if you don’t want to, or you can choose to; you don’t have to post it unless you want to; etc.  im not sure if this is the best way to send you this, because im still not 100% on how the “submit” feature works, but i hope this is readable; 
(put the rest of the message under the cut with the fic v )
(ok so first of all i couldn’t wait to be home and read during a break in the freezing cold and i literally could not stop crying involuntarily, literally unable to stop still) your grasp on them, i just, how raw 
the way you wrote their fears and tears? tonbo being so excessive to the point of being incredibly self-destructive, thinking that his words are never appropriate when each time, they are? disregarding his own self for others, for him
sengo being so, so self-contained to the point of facade completely shattering from a single world (which reminds of his face almost choking back tears in mihotose being told he isn’t alone i’m NOT ok) wanting to take care of him instead, to make him realize no one should go that far for him, and especially not tonbokiri
thank you so much for taking the time to write all of this? i’m a bit at loss of words i’m afraid i can’t praise it as much as i think of it but i genuinely cherish it with all my heart, and please don’t downplay yourself like this in the future you don’t give yourself enough credit that i can’t put in words
“Did you sleep better, back then?”
Sengo’s face has turned back to the window, not fully, but so all Tonbokiri can see is the apple of his grinning cheek tremble.
“I would take those unpleasant memories from you, if I could,” Tonbokiri says.  He says it quietly, because if he spoke any louder then his voice would crack with its own weight.  “Sometimes I wish I could, if it would ease your suffering.”
Sengo laughs wetly.  "And then we’d never have met.” “I’d find you still.”
i have another ao3 account invite arriving hopefully soon, so if you want this to be more clean, i could post it there maybe if that would be better.  & i have never written for anyone before, and i don’t think anyone has seen anything i’ve written in a few years, so please don’t think too harshly on my characterisations, writing, dialogue, pacing, etc. because i’ve never had anyone to critique my mistakes.  
(i also think i started writing this with the intention of it being an au where they had been human but very much like that spies or assassins, like i saw on your blog, so if anything seems strange, it’s because of that!  i didn’t mention anything explicitly, but i wanted to give myself some room because i’m not fully familiarised with the canon yet, so that’s why some things may not be in line with canon, even though they may call themselves “spear/sword.“  i wanted to write something in between the phases of them being very traumatised by their life experiences and starting the road to recovery; between them still considering themselves weapons lacking autonomy and them starting to think of themselves as people who can make their own decisions.)  as i said, i know there are places where it definitely feels even to me that tonbokiri and sengo are ooc, but i hope you’ll forgive those moments while i begin figuring out how to write them properly.  even if you don’t enjoy this so much, hopefully you can use this at least as something to give you different ideas.
~ Tonbokiri is woken by Sengo.
He knows this even before his eyes are open.  If he could not tell by the thin fingers brushing back his hair; or the sound of his sleep-husked voice, unusually quiet, unusually tremulous, calling his name; or even the faint smell of cherry blossoms still sticking to Sengo’s skin after they’d taken Monoyoshi to see around the city and the nearest park just the day before … if he could not tell by any of that, then Tonbokiri would know just from habit.
It is in the nature of things like them to awaken fighting; to burst into consciousness at the slightest sounds; to feign sleep while reaching for their knife under their pillow, or to listen to the sounds of the building adjusting to the new weight with wailing creaks and then to launch at their attacker.  That is in their training.  It had taken some time - though, not nearly as much as either of them had expected - for Tonbokiri and Sengo to adjust to each other’s presence, but now that they have, if he is woken in any manner and his body allows the haze of semi-consciousness to fog his mind, then Sengo must be near, keeping him peaceful.
He is woken by Sengo most nights in some way or another, though not usually for long.  A leg thrown over his waist might catch his attention, their hips budging as they shift might stir him, fine hair in his face and tickling his nose will wake him with a sneeze, or the blankets being pulled further to one side than the other might cause him to wake just enough to pull them back.  To all of these, Tonbokiri will smile, ensure that nothing in the room is out of place and disturbing him, and drift back to sleep.  On less pleasant nights, he is woken by Sengo’s fitful dreaming.  Not his nightmares, or at least not the fully-fledged ones - while he knows Sengo has periods where his dreams give him pain, he too often wakes himself first, quiet enough or still enough to never wake Tonbokiri, and instead lets him rest unknowing; and so Tonbokiri only ever catches the after-images of these nightmares: the restless attempt to fall back asleep again, tear tracks on Sengo’s otherwise dormant face, smiles the next day that are a little too wide … all signs of something that Sengo endured right beside him that Tonbokiri missed.  Sengo brings them up occasionally, but never seriously, only to tell him something particularly gruesome that he thinks might scare Tonbokiri away, or with a wink and a fluttering hand as if he’s trying to convince them both that he’s telling a particularly overblown ghost story rather than his own memories.
They haunt him like ghosts, certainly, but they’re no less real.
Tonight, Sengo had woken him, but he’s already awake himself, face scrunched into something just a little more serious than his usual pout.
“Muramasa … ?” he murmurs.  This is strange to him, and his body is reacting frustratingly slowly.  Lovingly slowly; it - he - trusts Sengo implicitly; he can almost imagine his resting muscles asking what such a rush is for, if Sengo is here.
A light is already on in their room, a dim amber glow in the corner from a lamp.  Just hazy enough to leave deep shadows in haloed curves around the furniture, but just bright enough to leave a pleasant highlight on Sengo’s face.
“Ah, you’re awake.“  His fingernails scratch pleasantly at Tonbokiri’s scalp, brushing through his hair.  Sengo is sitting with Tonbokiri’s head in his lap; he is surprised none of the movement woke him sooner.
“Of course,” he repeats, forcing his eyelids to remain fully open despite his comfort.  “Of course,” he repeats, “didn’t you call me?"  He thinks he remembers Sengo’s voice, whispering his name.  "Is something wrong?”
“Don’t you remember?  You were having a nightmare.”
The fatigue seeps from him in an instant, leaving him cold and awake.  The cold centres in his chest like ice, but Sengo’s hands near his head are still warm.  So it was me who woke him first …  It’s troubling to think of how he may have disturbed what little peaceful sleep Sengo had earned just with his own bothersome thoughts.  “Oh,” he eventually manages.  “Yes, I don’t remember at all.  Thank you for waking me from it so quickly.”
Before he can apologise for waking Sengo himself, Sengo’s pout changes shape, and his warm hands travel to Tonbokiri’s chest, thawing that frozen feeling.  “But your heart is racing, can’t you feel that?”
“Ah, that,” he says.  He notices now that it’s been pointed out.  But he smiles up at Sengo rather than think about it.  “My heart always races when I look at you.”
Sengo splutters slightly in surprise, face turning a soft pink, glowing in the dusky orange lamplight, framed by highlights of long, feathery hair.  Tonbokiri could stare at him for so long …
I wonder if it just got faster.  He puts a hand over Sengo’s, both of them over his heart.
The flush doesn’t fade, but Sengo adopts a wry, amused smile, wrinkling his nose mischeviously, eyes twinkling.  “Pardon the intrusion, then, if I’ve interrupted a dream in which I’m undressing.”
“It’s no interruption, if you’re the one who wakes me."  How could even the most pleasant dream he conjure compare to the real thing?  Ah, embarrassing, even the thought makes his cheek heat.  "And, I am sorry,” he manages, next, before he blurts out something even more sentimental.
Sengo’s smile doesn’t vanish, but his eyes go wide and study him carefully, scrutinising.
“For waking you,” Tonbokiri explains.  “I–”
He is distracted by a flash of deep red slashed across the palm of Sengo’s hand, made noticeable as he moves it from Tonbokiri’s chest to his own lap.
He shoots upwards, almost knocking Sengo backwards with his speed and size.  In the light, with the movement, the red shimmers.  Tonbokiri forces himself to think rationally despite his hammering heart, to come into a sitting position beside Sengo and move slower; Sengo’s muscles have clenched, shoulders tightened, and his gaze is scanning the room for whatever threat he thinks must have made its presence announced.
Tonbokiri scolds himself internally.  He knows what they both are, and he was foolish to react in a way that has left Sengo waiting for an attack, and after Sengo woke him up so gently.  His breathing slows purposefully, steadily, and he outstretches his hands to take Sengo’s.  Slowly, so that if Sengo wanted to knock his hands away, he could.
But Sengo offers the hand faster than Tonbokiri asks, eyebrows high on his head, offering a faint, “What’s the matter?” into the open air.
Tonbokiri’s thumb presses into the heel of Sengo’s hand as he turns it to examine it closer.  A thread of his own hair, dark red, had caught itself on Sengo’s ring finger.  His hands had been so gentle that Tonbokiri hadn’t even felt the roots tug in his scalp, even as the strands were drawn with the movement.
His exhale is a heavy huff of relieved air.  His thumbs trace the lines of Sengo’s blessedly unblemished palm.  “I thought I’d cut you."  The red like a river of blood deep in Sengo’s skin … all just a strand of his hair.  It had just shone oddly in the light, is all.  It had looked like something it wasn’t, and his mind had jumped to its own conclusions.
"You didn’t,” says Sengo, flexing his hand to better see it himself.  Then, thoughtfully, almost like a challenge.  “You couldn’t.”
Tonbokiri almost traitorously thinks, I have, remembers the dragonfly, then silences that weakness.  No matter what his body is capable of, has done, he won’t let it harm Sengo.
“Huhuhu, even without saying any words, the things you think are so loud,” says Sengo, tapping Tonbokiri’s temple with his unhurt hand.  “You didn’t, and so what would it matter if you had?  I thought you told me you didn’t remember you’d had a nightmare.”
“I can’t remember it,” begins Tonbokiri.  “And it would matter, if I’d hurt you.”
Sengo flicks his wrist to dismiss that thought.  They’re sitting so close together, and yet Sengo’s face has turned at an angle impossible to read.  “But you seem so alert, after waking."  With an insincere edge, "Would it make you more at ease if I undressed right now?”
He frowns.  “If I can’t remember it, I’d say it hasn’t bothered me so much,” he says.  “But … you worry me.  Are you alright?”
“You’re such a worrywart.  Aren’t you the one with bad dreams?”
“We both have bad dreams."  Tonbokiri leans closer now, and Sengo gives him reluctant eye contact.  "Did it trouble you when I woke up?”
Now Sengo smiles.  It’s tight on his face; a mixture of the false, teasing grins he wears for the others, and the pained, bittersweet twist that sometimes unwillingly slips onto his face.  “You didn’t.”
“Trouble you?"  Then he realises.  He lowers his gaze.  "Wake you.”
It isn’t a question, but Sengo still confirms it with a half-shrug, doing his best not to look bothered about it.
“I’m glad, then,” Tonbokiri decides.  “That I had that dream and you woke me.  No one of us should be awake alone at this hour.”
Sengo shrugs again, more haphazard this time, rising to cross the room to their window and look out over the night.  “It’s not so bad.  I used to stay up and stare at the stars, before.  I would wonder which unlucky one I must have been born under."  He flashes a playful grin over his shoulder, one that Tonbokiri can’t return.
Before.  Before he was Mihotose.  Tonbokiri himself hardly feels as if he’s been here long, although he feels so at peace with the team.  But he had spent so long as the spear belonging to just one man before this; Sengo has had many handlers.  Does it feel so differently for him?  Does time pass differently?  There are times when Tonbokiri worries that Sengo feels isolated for being the last of them to join.
"Did you sleep better, back then?”
Sengo’s face has turned back to the window, not fully, but so all Tonbokiri can see is the apple of his grinning cheek tremble.
“I would take those unpleasant memories from you, if I could,” Tonbokiri says.  He says it quietly, because if he spoke any louder then his voice would crack with its own weight.  “Sometimes I wish I could, if it would ease your suffering.”
Sengo crosses back, but so quickly Tonbokiri barely catches a glimpse of his face.  His hands grasp Tonbokiri’s shoulders, and his purple head rests above red.  “How peaceful … but then I’d have almost no memories whatsoever.”
“Then I’d wish for you to have a different life.  A normal one.  A human one."  Speaking as if they aren’t humans.  But, some days, it would be almost more impossible to believe they are.
Sengo laughs wetly.  "And then we’d never have met.”
“I’d find you still.”
A drop lands squarely on Tonbokiri’s head.  He pretends that it could be possible for it to rain inside their room, rather than feel the deep sorrow in his chest knowing that Sengo is crying.
“I am Sengo Muramasa,” Sengo declares.  Bold, but sad.  “And not that stranger who lived some normal, human life.  If this Tonbokiri … if he has regrets,” he speaks softly, with no judgement, “then I’m sure that that other Muramasa is out there … instead of inside this room, where you’re trapped with the demon.”
“How can I have any regrets in this life that took me to you?"  His voice is heavy and wet.
"In this life that’s given you nightmares … you have no regrets?  You wouldn’t change it?”
“No.”
“You’d take all those lives again?  Walk down this path that you’ve walked down?”
“If you were waiting for me on it, yes.”
A smile curves against his temple.  “Liar."  Two more raindrops fall from the shadow of a violet cloud above.  Tonbokiri is held so closely that he can only see Sengo’s collarbone, from how tightly he is held.  "Merciful Tonbokiri”–here, Sengo traces the Siddham on his chest–“he would never shed all that blood for anyone less than his old master.  Let alone for something like me.”
Merciful Tonbokiri.  He wants to be, he aspires to be, but.  He can’t remember what his nightmare was, but he can imagine.  His past has given a lot for his dreams to work with.  “If there is a price to pay to keep our lives together, to be paid in blood, at the cost of all I’ve shed and all you’ve shed, I would gladly give it all, straight from my own heart."  He guides Sengo’s finger from the Siddham to his heart beside it.  "If you’d have me.”
Sengo makes a choked noise.  His hand curls, his knuckles brush and must surely feel Tonbokiri’s pulse.  “So desperate to keep your own misfortunate life, and to make me change mine?”
“Only if it’d make you happy.”
“But how could I possibly be happy if we were living different lives?”
“I’d pay it all the same, if it’d make you happy in this one.”
“Huhuhu, sometimes, you can be a little slow, Tonbokiri."  Sengo pulls back so they can see each other, face-to-face.  There are tears rolling down so quickly they fall into his smile.  "I already am.”
Tonbokiri leans carefully up to place his mouth on Sengo’s.  Sengo freezes, one hand still on Tonbokiri’s shoulder, and the other helplessly pressed against his heart.  They are still so new at this, and Tonbokiri’s face turns as red as his hair and Sengo starts in surprise almost every time they’ve tried, between failed attempts where they bump noses and turn away, too flushed, before they’ve even gotten close enough.
They part reluctantly, but still so close.  Tonbokiri can taste tears on his lips, and he leans his forehead forward against Sengo’s.  Sengo’s lips are still parted, upturned.
“Sometimes …"  He frowns at himself, for breaking the silence–the ease.  For doing it so clumsily, instead of sharply and neatly like the spear he is should be able to do.  "Sometimes, it feels as if you aren’t.”
“As if I’m not …?”
“Happy.”
“Sometimes it feels as if you aren’t, either.”
“There is nothing to be concerned about."  But, at Sengo’s deadpan stare, he admits, "I … am.  More often than not.  Being here has helped.”
“That’s not fair, then; you’ve been here longer than I have,” Sengo accuses, biting his tongue playfully at Tonbokiri.  “Perhaps even this demon sword could learn to live a happy life if it stays here long enough.”
“Demon sword?” asks Tonbokiri with a laugh.  “I don’t think I know of that stranger.  I don’t think such a thing lives here, even.  The last person to come live with us was, hm, definitely a man, not a demon.  One of the kindest and gentlest I’ve ever met.”
“‘Kind and gentle’?  Are you certain that you and I are thinking of the same thing?”
“Well, I have met, and talked to, and experienced, and … loved Sengo Muramasa.  And I think that both he and I know who he is far better than any of those strangers who spread rumours of demons.  Even better than those voices who live in his head and try to convince him those lies are true.”
“'Loved,’” repeats Sengo quietly, in a strange, hoarse voice.
“Yes.  I haven’t much experience with it, but I think that’s it.”
“One shouldn’t tease, you know,” Sengo rushes to say, “or play jokes.  Not on this demon who is just learning to become a man.  That would be cruel even to a Muramasa.”
“I would never.  Isn’t it you who says I don’t understand humour very well?”
“And so what you say …”
“… I am always honest with you, Muramasa.”
Sengo laughs, a happy outburst.  There are still tears on his face.  Tonbokiri kisses him again, before he can think better of it.  Sengo’s hands cup his cheeks, and Tonbokiri wonders if he can feel his grin.
They are still so close, chest-to-chest, that when they pull away, Sengo murmurs again, “Your heart … it’s still so fast.”
“I told you; so long as I can see you, my heart races.”
“Then it would be best for me to turn off the light, or you’ll never get back to sleep.”
“That’s alright,” says Tonbokiri.  He looks to the window.  It’s still so dark outside.  But the shadows are hardly daunting when it is so bright in here with both of them.  “I think it would be okay for us to stay up just a little longer.”
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xpumpkindumplingx · 7 years
Text
Some personal musings ahoy...
So here’s the thing, I’ve been down since pretty much the day after the musical episode. I’ve had the rug pulled out from under me and I just can’t seem to catch my footing. Something that once brought me joy, just doesn’t do what it used to. Yet, I soldier on because of my love for Colin. The realization that I’d never get to meet my OTP at the same time was a blow as well. JMo did what she had to do and while I’m still slightly bitter, it doesn’t change the fact that what’s done is done. I wish her all the happiness, honestly. I also still got to meet Colin, so check that dream off the bucket list.
Then, I lost the love of my life unexpectedly. My cat was my everything. As an introvert my home is my sanctuary. That’s been tarnished now that he’s gone. Some are telling me to go get another cat but those who I feel truly get me know I’m not ready. I’m not sure I ever will be. That cat came to me just one month after an accident almost took my father from us. So when I call him my saving grace, that’s why. He helped me cope when my world came crashing down. He helped when I had to leave the only home I’d ever known because my paraplegic father couldn’t live there anymore. He made going from living with my parents to living alone bearable. It’s not so much right now, the silence here is deafening at times. 
Shortly after I lost him, my dad had to go into the hospital. It’s been ten years since his accident and it’s starting to wear his body thinner and thinner. He’s almost ready to come home thought but we’ll never be out of the woods entirely. There’s that consistent “waiting for the other shoe to drop” feel. All while this is going on my grandpa had a health scare. He’s home now and doing well, but it all still weighs on my mind. Toss in me trying to be a strong supportive daughter and I sometimes feel like the world is coming down on me. When in crisis I retreat into myself while my mom gets more extroverted. I finally had to tell her that even though she was trying to give me space she was still texting me and calling me when she said she wouldn’t. Now, this was usually to let me know how people were doing and to make sure I was okay. It’s just when people say one thing and do another, it sets me off a bit. I felt like crap for using the word “bothering” to her but at the time I felt it was necessary to be honest with her. We’ve always been honest with each other. She has calmed down a bit now that Grandpa is stable and dad’s about to come home. 
Oh and throughout all of this I had to say goodbye to my best friend because she had to move back home 8 hours away. Now, that doesn’t sound like such a big thing but for someone like me it’s like a knife to the gut. I know why she had to go and we did get to have a pretty amazing summer but it still hurts. She’s still my best friend, that will never change and we did go months without seeing each other when she only lived a hour and a half away. It’s just another loss I’m feeling. I’ve also been working a lot more since February because my co-worker broke her shoulder. So when I get ONE day off I pretty much want to do nothing. However, my “nothing” has changed too. Once filled with laying about watching television, reading fic, talking with my online friends and hanging with my fuzz ball. Now I find it hard with television not as distracting, most of my shows are ending/have ended and nothing new is catching my fancy. I’m not finding fic that intrigues me the same, which is no ones fault at all! A place that once saw crazy daily conversations has died down and I always feel like it’s a little my fault, even though I know it’s not. It’s change and I happen to hate change. I know it happens and it’s inevitable but it doesn’t make it any easier. I’m scared to say the wrong thing, have it taken the wrong way or I’ll feel slightly hurt when something isn’t reacted to the way other similar things are reacted to. When I say these things out loud I know I must come off as one needy, self absorbed arse. I promise I’m not like that. Time zones, work schedules and personal lives all factor in and I don’t begrudge ANYONE those things. I try so hard to be happy for others, yet when your own world is caving in it’s hard not to be a little envious or to feel left out. 
I want so desperately to talk but I feel like a burden, yes even to my friends and I hate that feeling. Always doubting what people tell me. It’s a really shitty way to have to go through life. Then, on the off chance I try to talk it out I still feel like I’m bothering people on top of feeling like I’m not saying the right thing in the right way, all while still holding back. I’ve made everyone uncomfortable to the point where they don’t know what to say and when I get the same responses over and over I kind of get upset. Then I feel even worse for being upset with people who just want to help but aren’t really sure what to say and it’s not their fault at all. *sigh* I’m hopelessly awkward, that’s just the way it is. What it all boils down to I guess is that I feel angry, sad and numb all at once. *shrug*
I’ve rambled enough and if you’ve made it this far, bless you. My problems are small compared to those of the world rn, I know. However, they’re my problems and when you’re an INFJ like me, they seem huge. So thanks listening, it took a lot for me to post this. I don’t let many in and I just felt the need to vent into the void tonight, even if it doesn’t all make sense and probably casts me in a poor light to some. 
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secondhand-trash · 7 years
Text
Leo Valdez(HoO)- I'm not that girl
A/N: I got a sudden outburst of feels while I was casually jamming to(more like religiously looping but anyways) the Wicked cast recording so enjoy this short song fic overflowing with emotions that might be a bit too much
Also, if you haven’t listened to the song before, here’s the link so you can experience the feels as well.
Description: An unnoticed camper in Camp Half Blood fell in love, but the person’s heart belongs to someone else.
‘Hands touch, eyes meet
Sudden silence, sudden heat
Hearts leap in a giddy whirl
He could be that boy’
You could never forget the summer day when you first met the son of Haphaestus. You were reading alone in the forest, like always. Some might pitied you for constantly being all by yourself, but you enjoyed the silence. That was until the silence was broken by high-pitched shouting from afar. Curioused, you put down your book to see what was going on.
“Get back here, Leo Valdez!”
A boy who somehow looked like an elf was running towards your direction as a few girls from the Aphrodite cabin chased him. What was going on? You instinct told you that this means even more noises before you can go back to reading in peace and you decided to help a little bit. You hid behind a tree and pulled the boy behind the tree when he reached where you were. Didn’t see you, the girls rushed pass and the two of you came out from your where you were hiding.
“Well, that was close,” the boy laughed and you couldn’t help but smile a bit. “Thanks for helping me out. I got caught trying to switch their shampoo into dye,” He reached out his hand, “I’m Leo.”
You shaked his hand, “(y/n).”
There was a moment of silence as you slowly let go of his hand, you could feel your cheeks burning. “So… I guess I’ll see you around then.” Leo said with a grin while he slowly turned towards the direction of the cabins and waved his hands.
“Yeah, sure.” You said as you gently waved back, until Leo was no where to be seen. You then took a deep breath and hold on tight to your book, trying to calm your quick heartbeat.
‘But I’m not that girl.’
It had been a while since you last saw Leo. You two had short conversations now and then ever since the first encounter. Secretly, you wanted to talk to him about everything and know more about him, maybe actually become friends but that kind of made you avoid him a little bit, scared to lose all of your rationaily around him. Deeper inside, you were certain that you wanted to be more than that and you suppressed that silly dream of your even more every time you saw Leo with this girl Calypso, a literal goddess.
You were not a part of Camp Half Blood when it happened but you had definitely heard about them. How Leo went far enough to fake his death to get to her, to fulfill a promise. As much as you found that utterly beautiful and moving, your heart ached whenever you thought of how much he was willing to do for her. You sometimes laughed at the fact that you felt bitter when you probably didn’t have the right to even be jealous.
‘Every so often we long to steal
To the land of what-might-have-been
But that doesn’t soften the ache we feel
When reality sets back in’
Sometimes, when you were all on your own, you would imagine what might have been if you met Leo first. Would he like you back or would it be just the same. His laugh was way too warm and welcoming to ignore and you felt pathetic that you fantisized about being the reason behind his bright smile, when it was clearly someone else he was smiling for. These silly daydreams made you feel alive, and hurts even more when reality stabbed a knife into your heart by showing you just how happy Leo was with another girl.
‘Blithe smile, lithe limb
She who’s winsome, she wins him
Gold hair with a gentle curl
That’s the girl he chose
And Heaven knows
I’m not that girl’
The worst part was that you couldn’t bring yourself to hate Calypso. It would have been much easier if she had been a straight up bitch, at least then you have a legit reason to dislike her. Instead, she did nothing wrong to you and that made your felt terrible for wondering what it would be like if it was you her boyfriend fell in love with.
You didn’t even dare trying to compare yourself to Calypso. Sometimes you were just carrying on with your life and then you saw your own reflection and wondered if it would made a difference if you were more beautiful and attractive, more like her. One time, You tried to copy her hairstyle but once you saw yourself in the mirror, it hit you that it was never about the appearance. You had never wear a side braid since.
‘Don’t wish, don’t start
Wishing only wounds the heart
I wasn’t born for the rose and the pearl
There’s a girl I know
He loves her so’
So basically this sums up your sad crush on Leo Valdez. All those thoughts ran through your mind as you stare at the Campfire with all the people around you singing and laughing. They were happy, and you almost envy that. How sad is it? Envying other people’s happiness. You closed your eyes, trying to shut all the voices in your brain out.
“Hey.”
You opened your eyes as you heard the soft , gentle voice.
Leo.
Out of all moments, he had to see you in this state, when you were almost going to break down from the thoughts of him. Great. “Hey Leo.”
He looked at you with concern in his eyes and you felt like you were about to melt, “I’m just stopping by because I haven’t seen you in days and you were surprisingly quiet today. You okay?”
So he did notice you. “Well, I’m alright.Thanks for asking.”
“You’re not annoyed by me, aren’t you?”
Your eyes widened. If only he knew how much you want to be annoyed. “No! Of course not! I mean… You’re not annoying and I really like talking to you…”
Hearing that, Leo smiled. He really was making it hard for you to get over him, wasn’t he? “Good to know! Because I asked Cal what I should do if you were avoiding me and, you know…”
Crack. You could literally feel your heart being smashed into pieces. “Yeah, it’s not you, really. But I am feeling a bit, well, tired, I guess. I’ll… Go back to my cabin. See you around.” You even managed to fake a few laughs before walking away, and started running when you were away from everyone else’s sight.
You slammed the door of your cabin and leaned on it, slowly crouching down until you were basically sitting on the floor. Why did you even bother going through all the pain for something you will never get? Why him out of all the people out there? Why did life had to pull this cruel joke on you? You started laughing at your own stupidity, at this pathetic excuse of a crush that got you grinning like an idiot on some days and ripping your heart out on most others. You laughed, almost a bit hysterically until you went out of breath and it turned into sobs, a drop of tear running down your cheek. You still remembered how you thought he could be that boy in your life when you first met him.
“I’m not that girl…”
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