#XOXO Elizabeth

[thesubstalker]

Oi, subs!

Tô aqui em busca da opinião dos talkers de RPG sobre uma polêmica! Confesso que não sou dos jogadores mais ativos por aqui – meu coração ainda tá mais no tradicional RPG de mesa pra fazer a festa. Mas tô curioso pra entender como a galera vê esse tema!

Então, o que o pessoal da substância pensa sobre os tais gatilhos e as proibições envolvendo plots considerados “errados” ou “desconfortáveis” na dash? Até que ponto esses limites são necessários ou só acabam podando o desenvolvimento narrativo?

É uma questão que me deixa intrigado. Como estudante de filosofia, acho meio surreal barrar temas considerados tabus em um jogo que, no fundo, é uma tentativa de explorar o comportamento humano. Afinal, estamos falando do ser humano – falho, contraditório, e sim, perfeitamente capaz de cometer crimes ou atitudes moralmente questionáveis. Ignorar isso parece meio que perder a essência, sacou?

Obviamente, não tô falando de absurdos como racismo, zoofilia ou pedofilia. Essas são aberrações, parafilias reais que precisam ser completamente repudiadas e enfrentadas com uma repressão firme e sem espaço pra conversa! Sem preconceito, sem abuso e etc.

Mas... e temas como suicídio? Idealização suicida? O estupro – suas consequências, o trauma da vítima? E o alcoolismo? O poliamor? Os transtornos mentais? Até mesmo o incesto – quando falamos de relações entre parentes sem aquele contexto de age gap ou grooming? Por que, de repente, nos tornamos jovens conservadores quando, no fundo, o que mais fazemos no Tumblr RPG é dissecar a sociedade? Para mim, parece contraditório querer explorar tudo isso, mas limitar justamente o que mais nos desafia a refletir.

O que vocês pensam?

Greyzinhe, meu anjo, acho que você talvez tenha se confundido de lugar, não acha? Esse tipo de conversa renderia muito mais se viesse de alguém que realmente entenda do assunto, um helper de verdade, pronto para ajudar a tag com propriedade. Aqui, somos apenas CLTs humildes, ocupadas com nossas rotinas e as fofocas que pintam por aí. Pensar tão profundamente assim? Ah, não faz muito nosso estilo. Sabe como é, às vezes, a vida pode ser só um morango, que tal?

[salembehindbars]

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹ ᡣ𐭩 ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹ ᡣ𐭩 ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹ ᡣ𐭩 ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹ ᡣ𐭩

Girls turn 13 & choose one of these personalities

(i chose Spencer Hastings)

[buried-in-autumn-leaves]

Literally none of them were under the tree what is even the point of Christmas anymore.

[otomes-and-tears]

it’s meeeeeeeee i’m shiloh enjoyer #3!!!! revolving him around in my brain every day like it’s a microwave 😭😭 i know you’re busy with a lot of other asks at the moment but i’m eagerly awaiting the lizzie post!! and all of your other writing ofc <33 you brighten my day :D

HELLO TO THE MYSTERIOUS SHILOH ENJOYER #3! I think we're all here now haha I'm glad you enjoy my analysis posts! NOW BUCKLE UP, BUCKAROOS! THIS ONE IS GOING TO BE LOWKEY SAD: Elizabeth is perhaps the most complex and defining relationship in Shiloh's life.

First of all, it's one of the few we see glimpses of throughout several steps in his life-- we see how he idolises her as a child, how he acts towards her when they reconnect in his teenage years and glimpses of how the different versions of him act with her in adulthood. It's likely the oldest relationship he maintains that isn't familial, and I think that's incredibly significant when we take into consideration what I believe to be one of the paradoxical cores of Shiloh's character: Connections and relationships are disposable to him, but Shiloh is only Shiloh as long as there’s someone there. He still feels lonely.

I talked a little before about Shiloh's childhood. How the social dynamics he established as a kid ended up influencing his behaviour as a teenager: He sees Lizzie as the obvious leader, since she's older and more assertive than him and MC, and follows her around and obeys her every whim because of it. Whether he genuinely likes her or not is up for debate, but I don’t think it matters to Shiloh. What she means to him is something that can far supersede any simple likes or dislikes that he might feel at that age:

She provides stability and purpose. She’s his anchor against the mean kids, the teasing, the isolation. All he has to do is stay in her favour. Lizzie is his first encounter with a power dynamic he can rely on and emulate as he grows, and therefore she becomes someone he idolises.

Shiloh doesn’t need to be honest, or even be himself, as long as he’s useful and needed. He understands social hierarchies all too well, knowing what happens to people at the bottom. It’s why he insists he isn’t “different” and loses it when Cove calls him “weird.”

He was probably one of the kids who got picked on, so he’s always scrambling to stay just above water and not sink to the bottom with the rest of the “outcasts.” MC doesn’t mean much to him, but in Lizzie’s absence, he sticks to them just as obediently, as they’re the next best thing. Cove, on the other hand, is mostly just a mild annoyance but does give Shiloh a bit of relief because, for once, he’s not the one at the bottom. And it’s not like Cove was ever going to be Lizzie’s favourite anyway.

Whenever Shiloh gets ignored, he panics and tries to wedge himself back into the conversation however he can. And as soon as Lizzie shows up again, he immediately runs back to the safety of their old dynamic.

I think that while most of him admires her at that age, there's a little part of him that resents not being like her. Not being able to be a leader and being relegated to a follower, feeling aimless when she isn't around. As a kid, he's more prone to lashing out when angered, unlike older Shiloh who acts with fake cheeriness and this strange, eery coldness when annoyed. And that's why he pulls her down with him into the water in Step 1.

If he isn't willing to voice these things because he doesn't want to rock the boat and cause issues, he expresses it more subtly.

Shiloh’s just scared—a scared little kid who figured out a way to fit in. And because that method kept working for him, through moving out of state and getting through life without Lizzie, he never really had a reason to change, even if it did a number on his very sense of self.

He got better at these tactics over time, making sure he’d always have a way to fit in, but it cost him a real personality and genuine social skills beyond the manipulation tactics he fine-tuned throughout the years. Eventually, he started taking control in small but crucial ways: He’s the one who walks away from relationships, now. Removing himself from them becomes a choice. It’s not only about leaving when people cease being useful to him but about imposing a sense of control that he felt like he lacked in childhood since he moved schools and states a few times and was likely used to being the “new kid” in different places.

He learned to hide his feelings better, so he wouldn’t blow up the way he did when he was seven. That’s why his relationship with Elizabeth—and the times he had to start fresh somewhere new—were so essential to shaping who he is: Lizzie set the standard for the kinds of relationships he’d chase, and moving around gave him fresh slates and new people to practice on.

That brings us to the serendipity moment in Our life and what we know from him in Xoxo droplets. Now, I know a lot of people haven’t actually played XOD and only have a cursory knowledge of it and the fact that a few characters from it cameo in the Our Life series! But did you know that Liz is mentioned by name in Shiloh’s route?!?

Yes! Back in 2017 we actually had Shiloh mention the events of Serendipity, which I think is a crucial scene to understand Shiloh’s character.

But before we talk about that, Let's talk Serendipity!

After Jeremy brings up “Shiloh’s famous memory” and Liz realizes he lied about not remembering her in the Step 3 prologue, Shiloh actually goes ahead and explains why he is the way he is. His explanation lines up with what we know about him from XOXO Droplets and how he acts in Step 1.

I don’t think he’s lying. Not about all of it, at least. Some of the only concrete information we have on Shiloh’s character and how he functions comes from his childhood, and I think that what he’s saying is a natural progression of that information. He only does things for his own benefit, he’s afraid of being left out and he asserts his sense of control through his relationships with others. But it’s really important to remember that Shiloh doesn’t do things without it benefiting him. While I believe in the core of what he’s saying, the fact that he’s divulging this information at all (how he’s going about it, by putting Liz and her feelings on the matter first, and framing his choices as being mistakes he made out of care for an old friend and by reiterating that they’re too good and putting himself down for pity points) instead of trying to dodge the conversation again, he’s employing a few of his known manipulation tactics: the real me strategy.

Shiloh knows that this new information is hurtful to Liz, and like in Step 1, her opinion is really the one that matters to him. He knows that there’s a limit to how much he can play dumb before they snap, and by Jeremy revealing part of his MO, there isn’t a lot he can do to smooth things over, so the least destructive path is to do exactly what Shiloh does to JB during his route in Xoxo droplets: He feeds Liz little bits of truth because he knows he’ll damage their relationship if he doesn’t. He gives her enough so she feels like she knows him better, like she’s got some new, special insight into the “real” Shiloh that nobody else has, which keeps her around. He pretends to drop his manipulative schtick because by telling her this, she has “figured him out” and there isn’t a point in trying anymore. That itself is a manipulation tactic.

But why bother? He’d be gone again by the end of the afternoon regardless of her forgiveness or not.

It comes back to what I mentioned earlier: Shiloh is the one who exerts control over his relationships. He is the one who decides when they start, and when they end, and by Liz being upset and deciding she doesn’t want to be around him, not only does he lose the control he craves, but Shiloh loses it with the person he based all of his subsequent relationships on.

In the few hours that he spent in Sunset Bird, they all fell back into their old dynamics even though it had been so long since Shiloh stepped foot in that town. He still remembers that she prefers popsicles over ice-cream sandwiches, and even though he’s better at including MC and Cove, Shiloh in a lot of ways fell back into their old routine, looking back to Liz as his leader and following into step as her sidekick. It doesn’t matter if Liz isn’t an active part of his life any longer, what would it mean to him to have those memories tainted? For that perfect template to be ruined?

But Liz stays. 

And because of that choice, we get to see the ultimate consequences of it. Shiloh isn’t a good person. As pitiful and as tragic as he might be, he simply isn’t one. And I think that can be encapsulated perfectly in how he frames his interaction with Liz to his girlfriend in Xoxo Droplets.

He glosses over what he did wrong, he casually exploits that event to garner points with his girlfriend. He ultimately doesn’t care if she takes his and Liz’s relationship the wrong way and frames it as being romantic, even if that’s far from the truth. Even with Elizabeth being miles away and already hurt by him, he still finds ways to use people and spin narratives to his advantage. 

I do believe he holds Liz in higher esteem than most (and arguments can be made that JB, the main character in XOXO droplets and his love interest, and Elizabeth share similarities in both appearance and their strong-willed, confident personalities), since she was his “idol” by his own admittance, but this is a tiny way in which he asserts his control over the situation. It doesn’t matter if Liz believes she holds the reins. If she’s older, admirable and if he still follows her around like an obedient puppy when she’s around.

By choosing to stay, she tipped the scales in his favour. He is the one in control once again, and he's able to continue his interminable cycle of holding people at arm's length while playing the part of a devoted companion.

[sheynchankawaiiuwu]

I hate how Shiloh acts in the DLC(I've never played it but I read the wiki) but happy birthday to him ig

@gbpatchupdates happy birthday to Shiloh!

[skarface]

You wait here, okay? I'll be with you, I'll be back.

[r-osehips]

First off, wishing you a quick and painless riddance of fleas! Secondly, for Choose Violence Asks: 16, 22, 23? please and thank you!

thank you, my friend! fingers crossed for their swift demise.

16: you can’t understand why so many people like this thing (characterization, trope, headcanon, etc)

for our beloved POTC: the common AU premise of Elizabeth remaining a noblewoman in British society. I mean, I get that the trappings of it are pretty, I guess? but even purely in terms of aesthetic it can't beat piracy. and in terms of everything except aesthetic it doesn't even come close, not in general and ESPECIALLY not for Elizabeth Swann. it's not just that I don't enjoy the trope, it's that it literally doesn't make sense to me. why write this character if you want someone who likes being in a corset?

22: your favorite part of canon that everyone else ignores

POTC doesn't apply so I'm doing a hard pivot to Shakespeare. you know how in Hamlet, Claudius says of Gertrude "she's so conjunctive to my life and soul that as the star cannot move but within its sphere so could I not but by her" or whatever the exact quote is? well guess what. your life and soul are not supposed to be conjunctive, in Christianity! your life is mortal and your soul is immortal! if Gertrude conjoins the two that means she is causing his soul to die when his body does, aka damning him!!! now one could argue that he just means she herself is conjoined to his life and his soul respectively, not that his life and soul are conjoined to each other, except in the earlier scene when he's praying he knows he's damned by his love for her and I really think this is him letting that belief slip to Laertes: that he's going to go to hell because of Gertrude, and he's accepted that. or at least part of him has. I have never seen anyone else have this reading of this particular line, which both makes me quite smug and infuriates me. IT'S SUCH A GOOD FUCKING SHIP COME ON PEOPLE.

23: ship you’ve unwillingly come around to

nothing really applies here for POTC, or for anything else off the top of my head, so I'll instead share that I didn't realize I shipped speckett until semi-recently and now I'm like. oh. this is god tier. the only reason I'm not writing fic about it constantly is that it doesn't quite hit my heart but it hits my brain in a very satisfying delightful way and I just think it's so fun.

[questions from the "choose violence ask game"]

[velarisnightsky444]

ACOTAR MASTERLIST

❤️‍🔥smut 🩵fluff 🖤angst 🩶series 🤍this song reminds me of them 🤎playlist

poly/ship acotar masterlist

kink/fluff/angstober 2024 masterlist

🩶Stargirl (ao3 || wattpad) ❤️‍🔥NSFW Alphabet ❤️‍🔥So Close ❤️‍🔥Mating Frenzy ❤️‍🔥Accepting the Bond ❤️‍🔥You're Mine ❤️‍🔥Patience 🖤Spoiled Little Princess 🩵The First Taste 🩵Angel of Music

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

❤️‍🔥The Mess You Caused ❤️‍🔥NSFW Alphabet 🩵My Love

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

🩶Dark Paradise (ao3 || wattpad) ❤️‍🔥Look at Yourself ❤️‍🔥Get Yourself Off ❤️‍🔥NSFW Alphabet 🖤Afterglow 🩵Clipped Wings 🩵Rain Makes Everything Better 🤎Nesta’s Playlist

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

❤️‍🔥The Headboard ❤️‍🔥Open Wide ❤️‍🔥NSFW Alphabet 🖤The 1 🖤Breathe 🩵Safe 🤍Come Back

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

❤️‍🔥Good Girl ❤️‍🔥NSFW Alphabet 🤍Youre Losing Me

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

🩶Scorched Shadows ❤️‍🔥Little Fawn ❤️‍🔥NSFW Alphabet(upcoming)

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

❤️‍🔥Pretty Little Thing ❤️‍🔥NSFW Alphabet(upcoming) 🩵Sugar

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

❤️‍🔥Greedy Little Fox ❤️‍🔥Love ❤️‍🔥NSFW Alphabet(upcoming) 🖤Insufferable

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

🩶How to Disappear(wattpad || ao3) ❤️‍🔥Stay Still ❤️‍🔥The Birchin ❤️‍🔥NSFW Alphabet(upcoming) 🩵Welcome 🩵Moon River 🖤The Worst Pain 🤍Vampire

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

headcanons -what music the archeron sisters would listen to

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

random -my acotar ocs as taylor swift songs -the courts as eras

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

all my playlists based on fiction

🤎brokeback mountain 🤎dead poets society 🤎elizabeth and darcy 🤎euphoria vibes 🤎evelyn hugo 🤎everlark 🤎feysand 🤎gilmore girls 🤎jennifers body vibes 🤎jurdan 🤎little women 🤎nesta archeron 🤎pretty little liars 🤎thirteen vibes 🤎throne of glass 🤎twilight 🤎virgin suicides vibes 🤎warnette 🤎xoxo -gossip girl

[ellastone-olsen]

➵ MASTERLIST ELLASTONE-OLSEN ✭

*will be replenished

Fluff~ hurt/comfort# smut* extra smut** angst@

﹕🥀★﹒₊‧ wanda maximoff ﹕★﹒₊‧

Fucked my way up to the top*

Around the Christmas tree~*

Thinking about soft mommy Wanda~#*

Make her happy*~

MafiaBoss!Wanda x f!security!reader*@

The art of eye contact *~

Soft mommy Wanda headcanons ~#*

For scarlet witch *

Mommy Wanda x autistic! reader*~~

Series:

The Legend of Sleepy Valley

Part 1 @

Smoking kink with mommy Wanda

Part 1*

Part 2*

🎀﹕★﹒₊‧ elizabeth olsen’s characters﹕★﹒₊‧

Christmas stealer*@ | Therese Raquin x f!reader

﹕📽️★﹒₊‧ elizabeth olsen﹕★﹒₊‧

Beggin' on her knees to be popular~#

Are we the same person? ~*

Wicked game~**

🕷️﹕★﹒₊‧ natasha romanoff ﹕★﹒₊‧

Plush**#~

Damn you’re weak*

☕️﹕★﹒₊‧ wandanat ﹕★﹒₊‧

Blue glow**~

🎡﹕★﹒₊‧ agatha harkness ﹕★﹒₊‧

Undisclosed desires*~

Stay wit me*~#

Sweet flower~*

🎞️﹕★﹒₊‧ aubrey plaza ﹕★﹒₊‧

Dating with Aubrey Plaza headcanons~*

XOXO~*

🌱﹕★﹒₊‧ rio vidal ﹕★﹒₊‧

Sweet flower~*

🤍﹕★﹒₊‧ rhaenyra targaryen ﹕★﹒₊‧

My queen is cruel *~#

I want to imagine being in Mysaria’s place *

[thesubstalker]

a scar não pede pq sabe que tem provas, prints e pelo menos uns 10 players que foram vitimas do que ela fazia

Ora, Greyzinho, se essa pessoa tem plena consciência de tudo isso, sugerimos que a evitem, não é mesmo? Afinal, ninguém é obrigado a jogar com quem não gosta ou que traga desconforto. Concordam? Agora, para a mencionada: não seria o momento de mudar? Reconhecer os erros e praticar uma boa autocrítica é parte do amadurecimento. Que tal uma troca de alias e um retorno à tag com uma postura renovada? Não seria a primeira, tampouco a última vez que alguém faz isso, afinal.

[localclownbaby]

I was thinking. I need to find more Elizabeth-centric fanfics. I don't want her to be with ciel in a full romantic sense. but maybe a mutual friendly/familial agreement when they are older?

I want to see Elizabeth realising the gravity of the situation and showing her intelligence and wisdom while taking care of her future (something major has to happen to shake her worldview and force her to think in another direction)

like "fine I will not marry you if you don't love me, but I will not be held responsible for the engagement annulment. actually I want you to give me a list of possible matches for my next engagement so don't fuck up. love you bestie xoxo"

I think them being friends rather than lovers is way more fun

P.S: obv this only works if the contract with Sebastian is either broken off or Sebastian reconsiders taking ciel's soul after revenge is complete

[doc-pickles]

hat trick | sidney crosby

instagram edits

because I can’t help myself 🙈 some little crosby fam instagram posts through the years. follows the storyline of my hat trick blurb.

enjoy!

xoxo nina

y/ncrosby

y/ncrosby sophie taylor crosby 🩷

tcrosby already a daddy’s girl!

y/ncrosby your brother never stood a chance

penguins Welcome to the newest penguin! 🐧

mackinnon29 Uncle Nate has a nice ring to it

y/ncrosby

y/ncrosby “I need to win another cup to put the baby in” - sidney crosby, stanley cup winner

kletang_58 Soph is our lucky charm 🍀

tcrosby but when I ask to sit in the cup i’m being ‘unreasonable’ 😒

user12 BABY IN THE CUP!!!

y/ncrosby

y/ncrosby bump sponsored by the stanley cup and champagne toasts 🤰🏻

e.malkin71geno tell him to win cup for this baby too

user17 Hockey draft in 18 years is gonna be WILD

catherinelaflamme11 You two just make the cutest babies 😍🥰

y/ncrosby

y/ncrosby welcome to the world violet marie 🩷 #girlmom

tcrosby sid is so screwed 😭

mcdavid97 congrats crosby fam!

user19 SID THE KID HAS KIDS?! I FEEL ANCIENT

y/ncrosby

y/ncrosby one more crosby on the way 🤍

tcrosby auntie taylor mode is intensifying!!

mackinnon29 So this is the reason that my mom keeps asking when I’m giving her grandkids….

user97 PLAN THE PARADE ROUTE HE NEEDS A CUP FOR THE BABY

y/ncrosby

y/ncrosby claire elizabeth crosby, youngest baby in the cup ✨ thanks for waiting till after daddy won to make your appearance

e.malkin71geno told you he win cup for baby

user17 the crosby girls are our good luck charm!

penguins We have her jersey ready and waiting!

[journalofanoldsoul]

Welcome to Austenland! (Rising Sign)

Aries Rising - Elizabeth Bennet (Pride and Prejudice): Aries Rising individuals are known for their independent spirit, assertiveness, and quick wit. Elizabeth Bennet embodies these traits with her strong-minded nature, confident demeanor, and spirited conversations.

Taurus Rising - Elinor Dashwood (Sense and Sensibility): Taurus Rising individuals are often practical, reliable, and grounded. Elinor Dashwood exemplifies these qualities through her sensible and level-headed approach to life's challenges, as well as her steadfast loyalty to her family.

Gemini Rising - Emma Woodhouse (Emma): Gemini Rising individuals are known for their wit, adaptability, and sociability. Emma Woodhouse reflects these traits with her lively personality, love for matchmaking and socializing, and her ability to engage in clever and animated conversations.

Cancer Rising - Fanny Price (Mansfield Park): Cancer Rising individuals are often nurturing, sensitive, and have a strong sense of family and home. Fanny Price embodies these qualities with her compassionate nature, deep emotional connection to her loved ones, and her appreciation for a stable and secure home environment.

Leo Rising - Catherine Morland (Northanger Abbey): Leo Rising individuals are charismatic, confident, and have a flair for the dramatic. Catherine Morland showcases these traits through her vivacious imagination, natural charm, and her ability to captivate others with her storytelling.

Virgo Rising - Anne Elliot (Persuasion): Virgo Rising individuals are typically detail-oriented, practical, and possess a keen eye for perfection. Anne Elliot reflects these traits through her conscientious nature, careful decision-making, and her attention to the details of social propriety.

Libra Rising - Jane Bennet (Pride and Prejudice): Libra Rising individuals are known for their diplomacy, charm, and sense of harmony. Jane Bennet embodies these qualities with her graceful demeanor, ability to see the best in others, and her desire for harmonious relationships.

Scorpio Rising - Marianne Dashwood (Sense and Sensibility): Scorpio Rising individuals are often intense, passionate, and have a deep emotional nature. Marianne Dashwood reflects these traits through her romantic ideals, emotional depth, and her ability to experience life's highs and lows with great intensity.

Sagittarius Rising - Mr. Knightley (Emma): Sagittarius Rising individuals are adventurous, open-minded, and have a love for exploration. Mr. Knightley embodies these traits with his well-traveled background, broad perspective on life, and his willingness to challenge Emma's misguided judgments.

Capricorn Rising - Eleanor Tilney (Northanger Abbey): Capricorn Rising individuals are often disciplined, responsible, and possess a strong sense of duty. Eleanor Tilney showcases these traits with her composed demeanor, practical approach to life, and her commitment to fulfilling her societal obligations.

Aquarius Rising - Colonel Brandon (Sense and Sensibility): Aquarius Rising individuals are typically independent, unconventional, and possess a unique perspective on the world. Colonel Brandon reflects these traits through his quiet strength, intellectual nature, and his ability to challenge societal norms.

Pisces Rising - Anne de Bourgh (Pride and Prejudice): Pisces Rising individuals are often dreamy, sensitive, and have a gentle disposition. Anne de Bourgh embodies these traits with her reserved and ethereal nature, delicate health, and her tendency to withdraw from social interactions.

Please note that the associations provided are based on general character traits and archetypes associated with each rising sign. Individual variations and interpretations can exist within each rising sign, and characters in Jane Austen's novels are complex and multifaceted, embodying various qualities beyond their rising sign traits.

Stay tune for more astro posts.

xoxo J.

[no-tengo-ojos]

Victorian Radicals exhibition at the Museum of Birmingham (2024)

Haha so posting this here aswell because that’s what this blog was originally for but I guess I got sidetracked slightly by Malevolent and other things. But these pre-raphaelite pieces are absolutely gorgeous and I’ve been waiting years to see them in person and I just want to share them with everyone xoxo

First image : The Blind Girl - John Everett Millais (1856)

Second image : Valentine Rescuing Sylvia from Proteus - William Holman Hunt (1851)

Third image : Dante - William Holman Hunt (1882-1883)

Fourth image : Prosperine - Dante Gabriel Rossetti (1874)

Fifth image : Medea - Frederick Sandys (1868)

Sixth image : The Lady of Pity - Dante Gabriel Rossetti (1881)

Seventh image : Morgan le Fay - Frederick Sandys (1864)

Eighth image : Beata Beatrix - Dante Gabriel Rossetti (1877)

Ninth image : The Keepsake - Kate Elizabeth Bunce (1899)

More posts of the same to follow

[thesymphonytrue]

Heyy buddy!!

If you are still taking prompts then Peter to Neal - "you're bleeding all over my carpet" (67)

XOXO

thank you for the prompt! 🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷

Longer version—Read on AO3

Pre-canon

Mozzie picked at the Brooklyn townhome lock anxiously. Normally he was calm, cool, and collected when he broke into homes but there were several worrisome issues with this particular residence:

One, it belonged to a Suit.

Two, it belonged to The Suit.

Three, Neal was unconscious and bleeding out.

Click.

The door swung open and the house alarm instantly began to sound. Mozzie knew he only had mere seconds before Peter Burke came thundering down the stairs, armed with a baseball bat (or worse). With a grunt of exertion, Mozzie pulled the unconscious Neal through the doorway and unceremoniously dumped him onto the Burke’s living room carpet.

“I’m sorry, Mon Frere,” Mozzie whispered as he skedaddled out the door, “But you’ll be in better hands here, then in theirs.”

NYPD was hot on their trail and Mozzie could not outrun them with an unconscious accomplice. Naturally, since they were already in The Suit’s neighborhood, Mozzie had to hedge his bets on Neal’s wit, charm, and Peter’s undeniable affection towards Neal (as much as Mozzie hated that) to get Neal out of the Burke’s house alive and free. Mozzie shut the door and disappeared into the night, sending up a prayer to the stars that his dear friend would escape the Suit’s clutches.

But if he didn’t…

At least Neal would be alive.

~~~~~~~

Peter scanned the living room as he bolted down the stairs, baseball bat in hand.

Neal Caffrey?

Bleeding.

Alive?

Oh god please be alive!

Peter instantly fell to Neal’s side and checked his pulse.

Thump. Thump. Tha-wump.

“What the hell did you get yourself into, Caffrey,” Peter muttered to himself, using his hands to find where Neal’s bleeding was.

“Hon! What—is that—” Elizabeth said breathlessly as she came down the stairs as well, still clad in her pajamas.

“Turn off the alarm, El, and grab the first aid kit!” Peter commanded.

Elizabeth darted to the kitchen to type in their code. The alarm wailing stopped, clearing Peter’s head. He found blood oozing from Neal’s side and instantly pressed his hands down to apply pressure.

Neal let out a whimper of pain.

“Neal, you’re okay, it’s Peter Burke, FBI—”

“Hey, P-peter…” Neal tried to smile but it was weak, “Did you get m-my postcard?”

Neal’s face contorted in discomfort and Peter’s heart squeezed painfully.

“I d-drew the picture on the front…it’s of—”

“Shh! Don’t talk!” Peter snapped, furious that Neal was wasting his precious energy on small talk.

Neal opened his eyes and seemed to search for Peter’s gaze.

“But did you get it?” Neal asked quietly, his breathing becoming shallow.

Oh. Peter realized.

Neal wanted to talk to distract from his pain.

Peter tried to smile, “Yeah, I got it. Thanks. It was a nice miniature forgery mailed right to my hands as evidence.”

Neal huffed out a laugh, then instinctively reached for his wound, but ended up gripping Peter’s hand instead. Peter’s heart stopped a moment as Neal’s hand clutched his own, and he didn’t dare look into Neal’s eyes.

But Neal didn’t let go.

“You’re bleeding all over my carpet, Caffrey,” Peter said softly, almost fondly, “Why are you here?”

Neal didn’t answer.

Peter looked at Neal’s face to see he’d gone pale, eyes shut, face motionless.

“Neal!” Peter cried, then, “Elizabeth!!”

Elizabeth appeared with bandages, “I”m here. Let’s get him patched up.”

They worked together in tandem to control Neal’s bleeding and wrap his wound. No words were said as the couple tried their best to save the criminal that had wormed his way into their lives over the past two years. Finally, Neal’s color began to return to his face and his eyelashes fluttered.

Peter let out an enormous sigh of relief and sat back, leaning against the couch with exhaustion.

“Damn it, Neal,” he whispered, dropping his head into his hands.

This kid will be the death of me.

“Peter?”

“Hey, Neal,” Peter responded, “How are you feeling?”

Neal ignored his question, “Are you going to arrest me?”

Peter hadn’t even thought about that. He pressed his lips together and sighed through his nose.

“Yes. It’s my job. You walked–er—plopped right into my house.”

Neal grinned.

Peter stood. “I’m getting my handcuffs. But you can rest easy for now. I’m calling the hospital before I haul you in.”

Neal laughed, then groaned in pain again.

“Let me get you some Advil,” Elizabeth said, scurrying back to the kitchen.

Peter took another look at Neal laying on his floor and wondered how the hell this was his life? Housing wounded criminals? He shook his head in disbelief and then climbed the stairs wearily to grab his handcuffs. He didn’t want to arrest Caffrey when he was already down like this, but, the law was the law.

It pained Peter; Neal had such potential. He was so bright, so damn smart, and yet, he was in the throes of thievery and con artistry. If there was only a way Peter could convince him to use his power for good to…

“Join me!” he said in a deep voice, raising his hand a la Darth Vader

“Ugh,” Peter said, rubbing his eyebrows as he fished his cuffs out of his briefcase.

Except Neal would be joining me on the light side, not the dark.

Right?

He needed more sleep. This line of thinking was getting ridiculous.

He started back down the stairs, ready to have a conversation with Neal about reformation. Maybe they could work out a deal. Maybe Neal wouldn’t have to go to prison for as long, maybe Peter could—

But Neal was gone.

Only a large blood stain on his carpet remained.

I wish you’d stayed. Peter thought, collapsing on the couch, dropping the handcuffs to the floor. Peter was convinced he could show Neal how to be good. There was so much good in Neal already, Peter could see it as plain as the sun rising and falling each day.

If only you’d stayed.

[esta-elavaris]

Part Thirteen [4,751 words] ~ James Norrington/OC

An AU of my completed, 400k+ word fanfic Catch the Wind [AO3], in which Elizabeth, not James, is the one to discover Theodora Byrne after she crash-lands into the world of Pirates of the Caribbean.

Page breaks by cafekitsune.

Also now on AO3 and FF.net.

Masterpost - Part One - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four - Part Five - Part Six - Part Seven - Part Eight - Part Nine - Part Ten - Part Eleven - Part Twelve - *Part Thirteen* [you're here!]

Tag list [let me know if you want to be added!]: @teawithshakespeare @missfronkensteen @dancerinthestorm

A/N: At this point, my approach to this fic is “what if POTC was an Austen novel?” and we just need to live with the consequences xoxo

“Is this not a bit much?” Theo asked doubtfully, scrutinising her reflection.

“My dearest darling Theodora, that is the point,” Elizabeth replied simply.

Both of them had already been dressed by the maids, and now they were resorting to a bit of primping as they waited for the appropriate time to head downstairs.

“I’m not opposed to a bit of glam, but this is…you’ve got me looking like Marie Antoinette.”

“Who?”

Whoops. At least making slips like that with Elizabeth wasn’t quite as disastrous as it might’ve been with anybody else.

“An extravagant French queen.”

“The goal was more fierce ancient warrior goddess attends a ball in her free time.”

“You need your head examined.”

“What was that?”

“Nothing.”

“I expect you’re rather more affectionate towards our dear captain, to have captivated him so.”

“Ugh.”

“Then again, perhaps it’s the muttered fieriness that has captured his heart so.”

“Ugh.”

“I heard that the first time.”

“And you’ll hear it again, at this rate.”

“Too right, save your charm for its most fervent applicant.”

Theo then unleashed a third, hearty ugh at her friend – but Elizabeth anticipated it and uttered a matching one in unison at the exact same time, and both of them dissolved into very immature laughter. It was much too difficult to get too annoyed at her friend. Mostly because she seemed to delight in it.

Their looks were not quite matching, but certainly themed alongside one another, and it had all started when Theo gave Elizabeth her gift.

Having never been one for big heartfelt emotional gestures, she felt like her insides were eating themselves as she sat with Elizabeth in the drawing room after dinner. It wasn’t like she never did anything nice for people, she wasn’t a feral animal, but…well. The Irish had a way of doing these things. Usually by offering forth whatever the warm gesture was, along with a (loving) insult and a refusal to make a big deal about it after the fact. That, she suspected, wasn’t the way of things here. And to be honest, she didn’t even consider that fact a bad thing – she certainly wouldn’t judge Elizabeth for being warm and sincere, but she just had little idea of how to respond to it. Maybe it wasn’t even just an Irish thing, maybe it was a product of being raised by a guy, amongst guys.

Combined with the time period disparity, she was left with hopelessly little idea of how to be a woman in the expected manner in these parts. Usually, Elizabeth found that equal parts amusing and charming, likely because Theo didn’t eschew traditionally “girly” stuff. She wasn’t about to stamp her feet at the sight of anything pink and frilly. But the fact remained, that she didn’t want this to be amusing or awkward, or whatever else it was she managed to be here. The last thing she wanted was to put a dampener on this.

So, resisting the strong urge to simply chuck necklace into Elizabeth’s lap and call it a day, she cleared her throat and straightened, taking a sip of her wine in an attempt to appear casual.

“So…I have a present for you,” she began.

Elizabeth’s dark eyes lit up with curiosity and excitement both, one eyebrow arching a little. That was fair. Not because Theo was the ungenerous sort, but because she didn’t exactly have a whole lot to be generous with around here, other than her time. And she had that in spades, which made it lose its lustre a bit.

“I know how much you like my necklace,” she said, reaching up to tug at it where it sat between her collarbones, “and I was half-tempted to just give you it, because it’s the only thing I really can offer, with the way things are right here. Y’know, other than my dazzling personality.”

Huffing a laugh at her remark, Elizabeth’s brow furrowed as she shook her head.

“Theo, I could never accept such a gift-”

“Which was why I didn’t try,” she nodded, “Bit of a crap gift if it just makes you feel bad. But…well. I worked my wiles, and I got a bit of advice, and then I found just the right craftsman for the job.”

Something glimmered in her eyes, and Theo knew then that she’d caught the hint of who exactly had been involved in the making of the necklace.

Presenting the pouch, she pinched the drawstrings between her thumb and forefinger, and then offered it to Elizabeth. Finally, she did a passable job at not appearing as awkward as she felt while she watched her open it, tipping the contents out into her palm. That awkwardness disappeared the moment Elizabeth grinned, and was forgotten entirely when she dragged her into a hug that was more tight than she would’ve thought the younger woman capable of.

If there’d been any small doubt in her mind that she was only pretending to like the necklace – which had been a real fear, given the many fine jewels that she had in her jewellery boxes upstairs – it would’ve been erased by Elizabeth’s sunny disposition in the following days. In fact, whenever they encountered others, servants or friends both, she began each conversation with ‘have you seen what Theodora has given me?’ while Theo flushed under the sheer weight of her enthusiasm.

Yes, she’d done well. She’d have to thank Norrington. Although she suspected he’d have the same dislike for accepting profuse thanks that she did, but that might double the fun. Still, Elizabeth had decided that the necklace should be the focal point of her get-up for the men’s going-away dinner, so no doubt he’d see that, and the hand he’d had in it, as thanks enough – at least once he saw her enthusiasm for it.

“I have to wear silver to accentuate my lovely new necklace, so it only makes sense that you wear gold.”

“My necklace also silver, so shouldn’t we both be wearing that colour?”

“Heavens, no. There’s a fine line that separates what we’re doing, and being a couple of strange old spinsters who wear identical garb and speak in tongues.”

“I already do the latter, depending on who you ask.”

“All the more reason not to partake in the former,” Elizabeth teased. “In any case, that is why you shall borrow one of my necklaces tonight.”

She might’ve disliked being dressed up like a doll, were Elizabeth’s tastes not so damn good. That was the thing with Elizabeth, she never tried to dress her up like her. Everything she flung at her managed to have Theo’s own feel to it, and the garments that did not were artfully styled so that they would once the look was complete. And how many modern women ever had a chance like this? It was like being on a period drama set, without the ordeal of having to learn lines. Fibs about her origins aside…and more concerns over potential lead poisoning. But Elizabeth wasn’t one for powdered faces, however much she was determined to induce a powdered wig fetish in Theo.

Her hair had been wrestled into a voluminous updo, with swooping curls defying gravity pinned up at the back, and one lone crimson ringlet left to fall at her collarbone, ending a good few inches above where the neckline of the gown began.

The necklines here took a bit of getting used to. The way the gowns shoved whatever a woman had in the chest department entirely up, and making even one like herself who was rather un-blessed in the chest suddenly appear busty. Sure, she hadn’t been averse to showing off her figure back home, but it turned out she’d thought the Georgians distinctly less free with that kind of thing than they actually were. For a time that she’d gone into thinking of as very buttoned up, she’d quickly realised how wrong she was when Elizabeth had giggled at her (albeit kindly) for asking if putting so much chest on display wasn’t a bit scandalous.  

It turned out she’d arrived a bit early, if she expected people to faint over the notion of a woman having breasts.

And anyway, the gown was gorgeous. Gleaming gold damask that caught the light of any and every candle in the room, making it appear almost liquid rather than just mere fabric. The sleeves ended with ruffles at her elbows, and there was a minimal amount of bows and frills and lace, so there was no worry that she’d feel like she’d be better suited atop a wedding cake than sitting having drinks with her new friends, and…uh…”friends”.

The sad fact of this impending departure that it was taking half of her allies with it, and Elizabeth had proven the only woman around here who was inclined to take a shine to her. Unless they could start dragging the maids along with them to afternoon tea.

Elizabeth’s gown was similar to hers, although not quite an exact replica. It had more of a floral motif, in shades of silver and dotted here and there with pearls. She looked like some sort of wintry queen when all was said and done – although the coldness of the look ended the moment she smiled. As breathtaking as she was, it was a wonder the other women didn’t hate her and not just Theodora. But in their minds, any positive attributes Elizabeth held were likely just expected. They were correct.

In truth, Theo didn’t envy her. When she met expectations, she’d receive little recognition for it. When Theo showed any fine qualities, it was a pleasant surprise to those inclined to like her, and infuriating for those who did not. The former was nice enough, the latter was funny.

Which made Amelia’s impression of a bulldog chewing a wasp while Elizabeth delighted over her gift during the gathering downright hysterical.

Theo couldn’t tell if the brunette knew she could hear her or not. She stood some ways away, speaking in a little circle with Norrington, Lieutenant Groves, and a handful of other ladies, while Theo mingled with those who had not chosen to snub her. That number was growing, she noted, but there was still something about their smiles that disconcerted her. A tenseness, and an analytical look hidden in their eyes, like they were turning over and over every word she spoke to find some hidden meaning.

She wished them luck with it – for while she had her secrets, there’d be no guessing them for any folk here. It was amidst one of Mrs Spencer’s speeches, during which she listed every fish known to man and whether she liked it or not, and which was the best cooking method if she did, that she caught wind of Amelia’s snide comments, floating airily across the room.

“I confess, she could personally hand me the Crown Jewels and it still would give me no notion of what she’s attempting to say when she speaks, more often than not. It seems a strange consolation prize for Miss Swann.”

Theo stifled an eyeroll, for fear that Mrs Spencer would think she was levelling it at her.

“I find Miss Byrne’s manner of speaking charming. It’s clever,” Groves said, visibly uncaring that Amelia very much did not want to hear that.

“In its own way, no doubt,” she replied boredly.

“No, in the true sense of the term.”

A break in Mrs Spencer’s list (during which she debated whether she preferred crab or lobster) allowed Theo to chime in. Mostly because she couldn’t help herself.

“I’m very beautiful, too – talk about that next,” Theo called over, leaving no doubt as to the fact that she’d heard every word.

Groves grinned and then laughed, “What was it you said the other day? About an old colleague of your father’s – a lanky fellow? Built like a…”

“Built like the side of a bank note.”

“Yes! That’s the one. I confess, I’ve been laughing at that ever since you said it.”

Beside him, Norrington’s lips thinned, and he gazed down into his wine glass as if in disapproval.

Was Groves being inappropriate, or did he just disagree with his opinion? Considering she couldn’t much imagine the former, that only left the latter. Didn’t it?

“Well, to your discerning ear, Lieutenant,” she offered a smile and raised her glass.

Groves mirrored the gesture, and even Mrs Spencer gave a trickling laugh and sipped from her own, but Amelia scoffed. And Norrington? Norrington took a long drink from his own glass that seemed to have little to do with the toast. All while not looking at her.

At some point as the night wore on, Theo excused herself to seek the night air. It was a cloudy night, which kept the stifling heat of the day trapped down upon them, and with all of the bodies and the revelry inside, it soon grew stifling. The saving grace – out here, at least – was that it had begun to drizzle. It was refreshing, even if it would work a few questionable waves into her carefully primped hair.

That didn’t bother her, though. Everybody here was even drunker than she was, and those who gave a toss about what her hair looked like were those who already searched for reasons to dislike her. They could crack on. Walking quietly over to a stone bench in the middle of the patio, she sank down upon it and breathed deeply. She’d need to sober up a little before going back in. All right, she wasn’t exactly shit-faced – there’d be no risk of her climbing up onto a table and belting out ABBA’s greatest hits – but she didn’t like to be much beyond mildly tipsy around this lot.

Most of this lot.

It wouldn’t do to grow too comfortable, but she was at least pleased to find that the list of those she didn’t feel like she had to be permanently on her complete and total guard around had grown more than she ever could’ve hoped. Elizabeth had been the first to occupy it. Then Governor Swann, even if she was never destined to be the best of friends with him. Then Groves, and now – most surprisingly, and in the biggest U-turn of all – Captain Norrington.

“I see we both had the same idea.”

Norrington’s voice was distinct and instantly recognisable from where it sounded behind her. Maybe she’s summoned him with her thoughts.

“Would I be imposing if I joined you?” he hedged.

“Not at all,” she offered a smile, “but I haven’t got any books on me for us to discuss, so we’ll need to find another way to play nice.”

He offered a low huff of a laugh. “I’m optimistic about our changes.”

To her relief, his earlier questionable mood seemed a thing of the past. As he spoke, she scooted along to the left side of the bench and he took a seat to her right, uncaring for the raindrops that had gathered atop it.

“Mm. We’re the capable sort, I think,” she replied. “Speaking of, I’d ask you if you’re prepared for tomorrow, but I’m worried you’d take it as an insult.”

“Once, from you, perhaps. But no longer.”

Was she mistaken, or was humour creeping into his tone? He continued before she could dwell on it – and this time, he was definitely teasing her.

“I am well prepared, or else I should not be here. Shall you miss me?” he asked drily.

“Mm. If, on a scale from one to ten, one is being delighted to see the back of you and hoping you never return-”

“I rather regret asking now.”

“Let me finish - and if ten is I won’t eat or sleep ‘til he’s back, I’d give you…a solid…seven.”

“Seven?” he seemed surprised.

“And a half. Maybe even an eight, in your warm and fuzzy moments.”

“I’m not sure I have any warm and fuzzy moments.”

“I don’t believe that. You’re not half as scary as you’d have people think.”

“Scary?” he echoed with a snort. “Did you find me so fearsome when we first met?”

“On a scale of one to ten?”

“No. Truly.”

When she realised how sincere his question was, she gave it the thought it deserved before answering.

“Okay, scary was the wrong word. Not just because I don’t frighten that easily.”

He chuckled quietly, “I can believe that.”

“But…intimidating, maybe that’s the word. That’s your job, though, isn’t it?”

“And we did not have the most harmonious of introductions.”

“Memorable, though.”

That earned her another laugh.

“Certainly memorable, yes,” he hesitated then for a moment and then finally asked. “I must ask – do I intimidate you now, still?”

“No,” she admitted. “If I’m being honest, and I’m only being honest because of the Governor’s very good, very strong, wine…I’ve never been so happy to be so wrong about a first impression.”

Before they could linger too long on something that was just a touch too close to sincerity – and before she could overthink the way his entire face seemed to soften in response to her words – she pressed on.

“What about you? Do you still think I’m the mad malevolent influence I appeared to be in the beginning?”

“Mad, perhaps,” he teased drily. “But not malevolent.”

“However…?” she sensed the continuation in his tone.

“However,” he conceded, “I do think there is much you are not telling me.”

“Well. Have to save something for my biography.”

He didn’t appear to find that as amusing as she’d hoped.

“Look…anything I’m not telling you…it can’t harm anybody here. Truly. If it would, I’d leave.”

“I believe that. Once I may not have, but I do now.”

“Good.”

“Could it harm you?”

Theo didn’t respond.

“Miss Byrne- Theodora. You can tell me.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“It matters a great deal!”

“I don’t understand how we got here,” she fretted with a tired laugh, “we were just joking on.”

“We were just about to discuss something frankly, for perhaps the first time.”

“For the first time? What are you talking about, we speak all the time. Are you…are you saying you think I’m usually lying?”

“No, I do not, but we have never gotten anywhere before now.”

The words hit some alarming note deep within her.

“Gotten anywhere? What do you mean gotten anywhere? I don’t…”

Theo trailed off. Because she’d been about to say that she didn’t understand, but as her mind worked through the fog of the alcohol, the heat, and the panic, she suddenly found herself understanding all too well.

Whether her dawning realisation showed on her face, or Norrington could simply guess the natural route her thoughts were taking, she didn’t know – but he quickly tried to intercede.

“Theodora, I did not mean-”

“Have you…” the prospect seemed too ridiculous to be true – to voice – and it had her feeling sick to her stomach, but it was all that made sense, and the panic in his widening eyes only seemed to confirm it.

Because James Norrington did not panic.

“Have you only been speaking to me to try to get somewhere?” she asked. “The books, the lunches, the long conversations…has it…has it all been to get me to lower my guard? Have you just been biding your time, the whole time, hoping I might slip up? And…and what? Admit that I’m secretly a pirate? That I’m here to rob everybody and run?”

“Of course not,” he insisted intently, eyes boring into hers as though force of eye contact alone could force her to believe him. “I said I believe you mean no harm, and I spoke truly. I have come to believe that.”

Theo did not respond. Because there was more he wasn’t saying.

“I…I merely hoped that if you came to trust me, that you might…be willing to reveal whatever it is you have not.”

She felt sick. Physically sick. Or like she’d been punched in the chest. Both at once, really. This whole time. This whole time. Every conversation, every book, every lunch, every joke, every smile…it had never been because he’d just wanted to spend time with her, or even wanted to make things right. He’d been playing the long game.

And sure, she hadn’t thought the sudden U-turn had been a miraculous change in his opinion of her. She thought it had started off as a desire to keep Elizabeth happy by being amicable with her friend, but…but that it had morphed into…

God, she was an idiot. Exactly what she thought it had morphed into, or was morphing into, hadn’t been clear to her until now, upon being shown how wrong she was. Christ, she’d watched three very long movies of the guy mooning over Elizabeth, and she’d really thought that a couple of jokes and a fucking sandwich from her would change that? Even a little bit?

How many of their conversations had he endured rather that enjoyed? Listening to her prattle on the same way she listened to Mrs Spencer, waiting either for her to slip up, or shut up, only presence out of duty? Out of protectiveness towards the Swanns?

How stupid could she get?

Several half-baked words of parting flitted through her mind. Some of them were even vaguely clever. But she had neither the heart nor voice to actually say any of them. So instead, she rose to her feet – though she could hardly feel them beneath her.

“Theodora,” he faltered and tried to reach for her hand, but she yanked it back and took her leave.

Amelia was at the piano when she moved inside. That was good. Not just because she was a fantastic player – which she was – but because Theo knew by now that the night would soon draw to a close. A few more would play, the drinks would be finished, and the guests would trickle out.

While there was nothing she wanted to do more than race upstairs, get into her nightgown and hide from the world beneath the covers, she refused to do that. Not just out of pride, but because she felt numb, bereft, and mortified, all in one. And that was paralysing.

The song drew to a close as she walked in and moved to stand at the side of the room, but Amelia’s dark eyes found her the moment she was finished playing.

“Miss Byrne! You next!”

Norrington returned to the room as she spoke, but Theo didn’t look at him.

“I can’t play,” she said.

“Oh, but you must be able to play something. Anything! We aren’t snobs here,” no, just vipers, “we’ll admire a good effort if nothing else.”

“I agree,” Norrington intoned.

If Amelia looked delighted at that, Theo felt the exact opposite – and she saw her own horror reflected in Elizabeth’s reaction, from where she sat by her father.

“I will take a tu-” the blonde’s attempt to rescue her was interceded by her father.

The Governor, deep in his cups by the flush on his face, chuckled and interrupted Elizabeth.

“Come now, Elizabeth, you’ve already played twice. Give Miss Byrne her chance to shine – I’m sure you know something worthwhile, my girl, and none of us here are renowned composers. It is for novelty only, I assure you! You are among friends.”

He wouldn’t have insisted, had Norrington not encouraged Amelia’s spite.

And she couldn’t refuse, could she? Not now that the man who was housing her had bid it. He’d meant no harm, he had no way of knowing about the wound he was in the process of packing salt into, but Theo felt her nausea increase tenfold.

The drizzle outside had set into her hair and set it askew, and what remained of the damp on her skin and dress both quickly warmed in the head of the room until she felt like she was stepping into a sauna. It was suffocating, and only added to her discomfort.

Walking numbly to the piano felt like being trapped in a nightmare – the sort where you turned up to an exam you hadn’t studied for. Naked. She knew some things. Mostly from pissing about on friends’ keyboards, or from music classes in high school – a decade ago. Nothing compared to what people here knew. And nothing well. Chopsticks, the first two seconds of Für Elise, and the song from the sodding Titanic movie.

The final option was the one she knew the most, but that only spoke for how little she knew the others.

Sitting down at the piano, she didn’t meet Elizabeth’s gaze – because she knew the sympathy she’d see there would crack whatever composure she’d plastered on as she left the gardens. It took a bit of plodding to find the first note she was looking for (the ones in her old music classroom had the keys labelled with stickers and/or sharpie, but there was no such help here), and even that drew a muffled snicker from somewhere behind her.

The rest was no better. Halting and awkward, as she hit wrong notes and either had to muddle through it, or pause and find the right key. At first, she thought nothing could be worse than the silence behind her – because she’d never heard such a large crowd be so, so silent. But then another snicker followed. As well as a few coughs, whether from second-hand embarrassment or as an attempt to disguise yet more laughter.

And she didn’t take herself seriously. Anybody who met her knew that. Back home, this wouldn’t be embarrassing at all. Among friends. How many times had she sat in a friend’s bedroom, a joint between her lips as she muddled through Paint It Black, laughing at her own mistakes and leaning into it before handing the instrument to someone who actually knew what they were doing? But she was not among friends here. The conversation she’d just had proved that to her.

It was all she could think of, and it had her wanting to crawl out of her skin.

She ended after the first verse, utterly unable to bear trying to go on (ironic, considering the song choice), and the Governor began to clap. To give him credit, he wasn’t even being an ass.

“A valiant effort, Miss Byrne! A valiant effort!”

A few murmurs joined in, Groves insisting he should go next – no doubt a kind-hearted attempt to make whatever she’d just tried to play look good in comparison. Theo brushed by him, and then took her leave of the room entirely. That meant going by Norrington, but the night couldn’t get any worse anyway. And if she didn’t leave soon, she’d cry in front of everybody. She refused to do that.

She made it as far as the stairs before he caught up to her.

“Theo- Miss Byrne, I did not mean to-”

Whirling, she found he did indeed look horrified. Apparently his victory had not tasted as sweet as he’d thought. Something about that only made it worse.

“Do you realise, Captain, that every time you’re kind to me, it only lasts so long as it takes my guard to drop, and then you’re cruel again? Then you embarrass me, again?” her voice came perilously close to breaking and she took a moment, inhaled deeply and fixed her eyes at some point above his head rather than at him. “So, at what point do I become the idiot for falling for it?”

“I did not-”

“Just leave me alone. That’s all I ask. Leave me be. You’ll be rid of me soon enough.”

She turned and began to ascend the stairs before he could reply, but he – thankfully – made no move to call after her.

James watched Theodora ascend the stairs in the Governor’s mansion feeling positively nauseous with regret. Not only at what had transpired in the gardens, but at how gloriously his half-baked in-the-moment plan had backfired thereafter.

She was out of sight by the time he was aware of Groves’ approach, his lieutenant moving silently to stand by him.

“May I ask you a question from one man to another, and not as a Lieutenant to his superior?” he asked quietly.

“Fine,” James replied flatly.

“…What was your thought process behind that? Back there in the sitting room?”

The question cut more deeply than any admonishment might’ve.