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#and you are most welcome for having a safe space to share your opinion
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on the topic of fandom racism.. wanted to ask an outside opinion on this.
so without much detail bc i don't wanna get this person harassed or something, i'm in a fandom where most of the characters are japanese and look pretty similar, so the diversity is Not Great. recently i saw an artist, who is white, draw a character with slightly darker skin than the rest of the cast as Black, where he was ambiguously brown before. my problem with this as an outsider is that i think that plays into a ton more stereotypes than if he was just tan or something. this character is regarded to be misogynistic, overly sexual, and especially to his #fffff white japanese (girl) friend.
i, as a white person, would like to approach this artist and ask if that's really the message they wanna send, but god forbid i do not want to sound like those people that believe in "black-washing" or just hate to see more diversity in an anime lineup. would it be white knighting to point this out, or approach that, hey, maybe your only person of color in this cast shouldn't be the one that acts Like That...
Hm. I see what you're saying. I'd suggest a few things, which is really my go-to for everyone white fighting fandom racism:
1) first, look out for the voices of Black fans in that space and see what they're saying. If they are perturbed by what they see, then I would amplify their voices and support them first. Let them know they're not crazy. They're the ones experiencing the harm, let their voices be the ones prioritized. If no one Black has said anything, that could be a sign that this entire fandom isn't safe for that kind of feedback (which... Often.)
2) look at that person's page to see how they treat this character. Do they actually offer them depth? Are they a fan? Have they shared anyone's good perspective of him? Do they actually care about him, and think his being Black serves a better narrative? Or is it really just this character is a douchebag and now he's "Black" because they wanted some diversity points without thinking about it. Hell, does the original media do right by this ambiguously brown character lol? Because that can often be the larger issue too.
3) does this person positively interact with Black people at all? Like people, opinions, topics, politics, anything at all? Or is this their Token Black Blorbo Barbie™? Because that's a red red flag lmao.
4) if you still feel strongly about it, send them a DM. I'd say make sure to be genuinely polite, not because you should be respected more because of it, but so that it's on record that you wanted to give them the space to amend ("Hello, I mean no harm, but I was worried that this may-") You're white too, so it'll be safer. DMs are really a kindness, a last chance for grace; sometimes people are just like "fuck it, that's a racist and imma treat them like it". And I don't begrudge them that, this shit is exhausting and enraging.
5) accept that you may very well approach with the best intentions, and this artist may very well act a complete asshole* about it. They may make excuses, the classic "I would never be racist", they may accuse you of all those things that you just said, try to cast you as the problem, and their friends may very well make you out to be the racist for pointing out the racism. Welcome to fighting antiblackness and racism in fandom 👍🏾 it's a minefield out here.
*keep in mind, even if they "respond sweetly", the whole "thanks 💕" schtick is still them being an asshole. Racism in sweet words is still racism.
6) if they do respond like an asshole, it is not a reflection of you, but of them. 👍🏾 They are now purposely choosing racism. Block them and move accordingly.
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uglypastels · 1 year
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Not Wholly Evil |X| pirate!Eddie au
a/n here it is. the final chapter. I am so excited to share it with you all, just as much as it pains me that it actually is coming to an end. I've worked on this story for almost a year, and it had been a risk I had no idea how it would play out, but seeing how much everyone has enjoyed this story and supported me in my little experiment really made all the days I say in front of my computer screaming worth it <3 thank you all so so much for trusting the process
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word count: 14.3k
"semi dark fic" - READ the warnings:. (gun/sword)violence. blood. mention of severe wounds. minor character death. allusions to suicide. kidnapping. imprisonment. alcohol. open and deep sea. near-death experiences. hanging. men are pigs: implied mentions of past abusive experiences [of background characters]. malnourishment and weight loss. paranoia. mention of poisoning. abuse. manhandling. lying. prison. capital punishment.
there will be several mentions of other ST characters in this chapter, and some instances might not be the most favourable of portrayals, but this is not to indicate my opinion on them. I am simply intertwining universes. there is also a name spelled differently than in the shows and that's just for the sake of the setting.
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Chapter 10: Lock and Key
“Some pirates achieved immortality by great deeds of cruelty or derring-do. Some achieved immortality by amassing great wealth. But the captain had long ago decided that he would, on the whole, prefer to achieve immortality by not dying.” ― Terry Pratchett, The Color of Magic
Everything went into chaos, happening so quickly that you genuinely got the sensation of being frozen in time and space, just letting everything around you go by, unable to intervene. Your mind could not work at that speed to understand everything that was happening, too far down into a shock to catch up. But when you finally did, you screamed. 
‘No, father, no.’ You tried to push yourself away from him, but his grip was too firm. Even if you had, the chances of getting past the barricade of armed bodies to Eddie was impossible. ‘You can’t do that!’ you trashed around in his arms like a wild fish out of water. 
All your father did was pull you closer, further away from Eddie, who you could just make out from between the uniforms and bayonets. The glimpses you got of his face showed a stoic expression. He wasn’t even trying to fight it. The last thing you saw before you were turned around and practically handed over to someone was the chains on his wrists. 
‘Take her away from here,’ your father told his closest guard, ‘she’s hysteric.’ And perhaps you were, as you kept screaming at them to let go of you. The pleas quieted down the further from the harbour you got, changing into silent sobs by the time you reached the gardens of your home.
‘It’s alright, miss,’ the guard tried to calm you as best as possible. ‘You’re safe now.’ 
The pearly white building towered over you as you entered its shadows, and as soon as you did, you saw almost the entirety of the house staff standing in the main hall, awaiting you. Their faces blurred with their welcoming greetings and sweet words of comfort. A woman took you from the guard, immediately guiding you up the stairs, mumbling something to him and shouting about to the rest of the people around. You could not place any name to her face, and having always been quite good with remembering people, you could only assume she had been a new addition to the staff since you had last been home. Looking over everyone around you, most of them must have been. 
That’s right. Your father had always been keen on replacing the staff but usually had been around to witness it, take in the new batch from the beginning, and, most importantly, say goodbye to the old ones.
You wanted to protest at every corner you turned up to your room, but the group of maids that had accumulated around you was like a forcefield, unbreakable. One of them opened the large double doors that led to your room. There was barely any time for you to sink in the feeling of being back in it after so many weeks as you were pushed through another pair of doors. There, a bath had already been prepared, the water steaming hot. You let yourself be dragged to the centre of the room and mechanically put your arms up for the ladies to take your dress off. Had they always been this rough? 
They mumbled about the state of your dress to one another as if you weren’t even there, and in their defence, you weren’t. Your mind was miles away, barely aware of what was going on. The only thing that pulled you back into the room was the gasp of the women as your dress fell to the floor. You looked down at where all their eyes had locked in on. 
‘Did they do this to you, miss?’ One of them asked, pointing in fear at the scar on your ribs. It had gotten much smaller over the weeks, but compared to the rest of you, you could imagine how grotesque it might look to people like them. 
‘Uhm, no,’ you mumbled, ‘I tripped. On our ship.’ You barely recognised your voice as you spoke, too tired to put any emotion into them. The women looked at each other hesitantly before continuing on with their tasks. 
 You just about felt the hot water burn as they got you into the bath or poured it over your head to wash your hair. The scrub of the cloths over your limbs did practically nothing. All you could do was stare out ahead of you at the hawk engraved into the wood panelling on the wall across from you and how you had always seen it as a sign of comfort but now noticed how angry its eye looked. Staring directly at you at all times. You lulled your head slowly, trying to get it to look away, but it just followed you around until someone grabbed you by the side to stop you from twisting. 
‘Sorry, miss. Just trying to get out this knot.’ One of them said as she combed out your hair, tugging your entire head back against the edge of the bath. 
You had not even realised how much grime came with being on a boat full of pirates for weeks. Even though you had tried to wash yourself regularly, there was never enough fresh water. By the time the ladies were done, the water had gone cold, and your whole body was red and sore from the scrubbing.  You could barely feel your fingertips, but your nails were perfect again. 
Trembling, you got out of the bath and quickly were wrapped up in linen to soak up the water. Like any other day, they began to put your undergarments on, preparing you for a dress that you could not even think about the weight of, but no matter how many layers they put on you, you were still shivering.
Someone, you had no idea who, pulled a blanket over your shoulders and put a large cup of lemon tea into your hands. It used to be your favourite, but the sips tasted bitter no matter how much sugar you poured. You stood in the middle of the room, holding the cup and felt all their eyes on you, drinking your tea with a shaky hand. No matter how you held it or steadied your arms, the porcelain clinked together louder and louder until it smashed onto the ground, the hot liquid pooling around you. Before you could apologise, someone was on their knees cleaning it up. 
‘I am so sorry,’ you cried out, tears already threatening to return despite it being only a few minutes since they had dried up. With water pouring over your face and hair in the bath, the tears would have been washed away, but now there was nowhere to hide them.
‘No worries, miss,’ one of the maids said. She looked you up and down, a corset in her hands, clearly seeing a mess of a woman in front of her. ‘We should get you ready; there is a meal waiting downstairs and I am sure you’re famished.’
‘I am alright, I just want to—’ you wanted to disappear. Get out of everyone’s sight. You wanted to lock yourself in your room or run away, just be anywhere but here, surrounded by these strangers. You wanted Eddie. Where was he now? He must have been dragged into the dungeons. 
You pushed back the next load of tears that were breaking through.
‘Miss, we must insist.’ The maid said, somewhat concerned, and hesitated. ‘The food will do you good.’ And yet, the idea of eating now made you feel quite ill to the stomach.
‘I would really just like to be alone now.’ If you had more energy, your statement might have come out more pointed, giving you more edge over the staff. You would have fought them until you’d slam the door behind the last one, but instead, you let yourself be trapped into a dress—a beautiful green garment that the women were not shy to praise as they put it on you—and sent you off to the dining room.
Once, you would have walked these halls alone,  with your head held high and letting the steps of your heels announce your presence in any room, but now the clicking against the marble floors made you wince and the presence of the maids and guards following you certainly did not help to put your mind at rest. 
The dining table was set, filled from one end to the other with dishes, but you could barely stomach a spoonful. The same happened at dinner. You could not think of eating these extensive meals knowing that Eddie was kept locked up somewhere, most likely not given anything to eat since he had been arrested. Your mind was whirring with ideas, but each and everyone was immediately halted when you saw that there was nowhere in the house you could go without onlookers. The chances of you being allowed into the dungeons and speaking to him were close to zero. 
Having eaten exactly two bites from your plate, you excused yourself back to your room, where people were ready to get you out of your dress and into your nightgown. Once done, one of the maids was prepared to blow all the candles out, but you quickly stopped her. 
‘Wait,’ you called, ‘could you leave one on, please.’ 
The woman nodded and left one of the candles in the holder burning before leaving the room. You sat down on the edge of the bed, trying to catch your breath, but the room felt so stuffy—a ridiculous thought considering the room was bigger than Eddie’s quarters, possibly the double of it. The candle only gave light to its nearest surroundings, letting the rest of the space, and you with it, be eaten up by the night. It was overwhelming, together with the hot air swallowing you whole. As your chest tightened, you ran to the window, pushing it open. You greeted the cool night air with a sigh. 
Nights at home were never quiet, but unlike in Saint Claire, it was not drunken brawls that kept the shores alive but the rustle of waves and the chirping cicadas. The streets buzzed with the sounds of nature, illuminated in silver by the moon, now an almost complete sphere. 
You had always loved the view of your room, but now it felt more like a cruel joke as you could look out at the harbour and the gates of Star Port. It was like a million pinpricks stabbing into you. The Hellfire was nowhere to be seen. You didn’t expect anything less. With Eddie arrested, it would have been mad of the crew to stay behind, risking their own capture. 
Still, the feeling you got at the sight of the empty harbour sank deep into your stomach, not helping with how you had felt before opening the blinds, and when you closed them again, the room seemed to have grown in size. Large, cold, empty, with you standing in the middle staring at your bed. Sitting on it, let alone sleeping, was impossible. The second you touched the mattress, you were scared you’d sink straight through the cotton, and the sheer size of it…
You lay there for hours, deciding whether to curl up and make yourself as small as possible or to spread your arms out in a poor attempt at taking up some of the space meant only for you. Every time you moved, your hand would grab for the sheets, hoping that one of those times, you would feel more than air. If you opened your eyes, you would see him sleeping peacefully by your side. 
Most of your pillows had met the ground as you threw them in frustration.  You had spent years in this bed, perfectly fine, and only several days with Eddie. So, why were you feeling this profound loss over his absence besides you? It wasn’t fair. 
Eventually, you managed to fall to sleep, quite literally, as pure exhaustion tipped you over and made your head finally hit down. There were no dreams, nightmares or memories to haunt you, as you were awoken before any of them could take shape. Firm knocks on the door announced your maids, and they filled the room in their designated corners. 
‘Good morning, miss.’ They said chirpily as they got you dressed and ready for another day. All you replied with throughout the entire process was a mumbled ‘’morning,’ which you hoped could be blamed for having only been awake for a few minutes.
‘Breakfast will be served soon,’ you heard. The mention of food again twisted at your guts, but an idea began to bloom in your mind.
‘Will my father be there?’ He seldom dined with you, leaving you to eat your meals in the company of the staff, but you assumed he would want to see you after all these weeks.
‘I assume so,’ the woman brushing your hair said. You nodded curtly, as much as possible, when someone held on to your head. The prospect of speaking to your father face to face brought a new energy into your step. 
You walked out of that room determined and with your head held high, only to be disturbed by footsteps parallel to yours. Two pairs. At first, you thought it was a coincidence, and they just happened to be walking there, too, but they followed you down the hallway, around all the corners. By the time you reached the dining room doors, you had grown tired of it.
‘I am quite capable of walking on my own, thank you,’ you said, coming to an abrupt stop, making the two men behind you  ‘have done it all my life, in fact.’
‘Yes, of course, miss,’ said one of the guards who you bumped into at your sudden halt. ‘It is just—’
‘Just what?’ You crossed your arms.
‘Well, your father—’ he stopped speaking at the sight of your unimpressed, somewhat annoyed expression. He cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable with the confrontation. ‘We are here to protect you.’
‘From what exactly?’ This was ridiculous. Absolutely ridiculous.
‘From any danger, miss.’
‘I was not aware this house was so full of threats.’ You rolled your eyes. ‘I appreciate the efforts, gentlemen, but I doubt you will be needed.’
‘But your father, miss.’ The other man tried to argue, but you were not having any of it.
‘I will not be patrolled in my own home!’ You shouted, pushing the doors to the dining room open. Your father sat at the opposite end of the large table, fork mid-air to his mouth. ‘Father, this is absurd.’
‘I think it is perfectly reasonable to want to protect my daughter. What is absurd,’ much to your annoyance, he spoke in his usual collected and cool-toned manner. He waited to continue speaking until you sat at the table. ‘Is you being held hostage for weeks at the hands of some barbarians.’
‘They are not barbarians, Father,’ you ignored the hands that spooned food onto your plate. ‘They took rather good care of me, actually.’ You bit your cheek, trying not to think of the days you spent in a cage. But even considering that, you were aware of your fortune with the circumstances you had been put under. Many more people had encountered enemies at sea, and few had been able to return home and live to tell the tale… or the preferred version of events, at least. 
‘Is that why you look so sick and frail?’ he spoke bluntly, taking you back. ‘Because of how well they treated you?’
‘They did their best with what they had,’ you believed. It was your choice to starve yourself for the first days on board, refusing to eat anything they gave you. And you could hardly expect a feast such as you held in front of you now, every day in the middle of the deep waters. Even on board the Red Tail, the meals had been somewhat shoddy. ‘I just do not think that…’ you stopped yourself from using his name. ‘That man deserves to be in prison.’
‘Of course not.’ Your father took a bite. ‘He will be hanged for his crimes.’
‘W-what?’ Your fork clattered onto the ground. ‘Father, you cannot— I know he had tried to take money from you but—’ Murder and high treason. That is what he was arrested for. Had your father somehow found out about the Red Tail? But how could he… there were no survivors. 
No survivors. He killed them all. He had— 
‘Do you know who that man is?’ Something in your father’s voice sounded sharper, more pointed. 
‘I thought so,’ you hesitated. Yes, you had spent your days and most tender moments with him, but what did you know about Eddie Munson?
‘Then you should understand the severity of this situation.’ Only if you were to believe hearsay and talk of the people on the streets that shaped this image of a blood-thirsty monster that roamed the seven seas, killing everything in his path. It is what you believed him to be yourself until not very long ago until practically every fibre in your body had been proven wrong.
Or at least, God, you hoped you had been wrong.
Your father sighed, ‘I know it is difficult, after all you must have spent a lot of time with them on that ship, and I do not know what lies they had fed you, but these are serious matters that begun long before any of this and need to finally be taken care of.’
‘Well, explain it to me because I would like to know what is happening.’ 
At this, he scoffed. ‘All you need to know is that man is a dangerous criminal and should be treated as such.’ But then, what about everything Eddie had told you? What about all the pieces you had managed to gather of the crumbs he and everyone else left you? There was more to it all, and maybe you did not understand yet, but you would.
‘When?’ you plucked at your food on the plate, defeated, ‘when is the hanging?’
‘In four days.’ If you had been well enough to eat, you would have choked. You had barely come to terms with returning home, if at all, and now this. Prisoners were usually held for weeks before a date was set for an execution. They were clearly adamant about taking care of him quickly. 
For the sake of everyone else, you ate a bit of your breakfast, each bite sticking uncomfortably heavy in your throat.  After that, you got up without saying another word. The two guards who had walked in with you were on high alert again, ready to follow you, but stopped to look nervously at the governor when you glared at them. 
‘Let her go,’ he waved them off, ‘but keep an eye on her.’
You huffed out a breath and walked away. 
The rest of the day you spent walking around the town, mainly the alley of the market that led to one of the entrances to the dungeons. You had no idea why you were there, considering there was nothing you could do. Besides the fact you could clearly see the new set of guards appointed to follow you around the streets, they seemed utterly futile, considering all eyes in the street were on you. Every person there was highly aware of your presence. 
You used to walk around the market nearly daily, making polite chats with the salesmen as you bought fresh fruit to later eat at the shore or in the garden. Most people knew that you had decided to join the Red Tail on their voyage primarily because of your enthusiasm to finally leave the island and go on an adventure.
It must have taken quite some time, they would say in some form or another, to convince your father.
I can be quite persuasive when I have to be; you remember how proud you had felt. After months of begging everyone around you to let you go, promising them that you would be safe and careful and not get in the way of anyone, finally, they let you go. Under Admiral Carver’s watch, you spent weeks enjoying the breeze and the waves, awaiting what the rest of the world would bring.
The ship sailed for four weeks to another naval post. You did not know their exact business, nor did you care, as you now had a whole new land to explore. The city was larger and nothing like home. The people looked different and spoke an entirely different language, but you still managed to get around and on the market behind your house. It had been excellent and eye-opening, only making you more eager to see what else to discover. But unfortunately, there was only so little time, and before you knew it, you had to return home. You remember the last day. It had been raining, but it did not stop anyone from loading the new supplies. Somehow it seemed like much more needed to be brought on board for this half of the journey than the first. 
What’s in those barrels, you asked, but no one ever replied. They barely ever did. It wasn’t your place to ask questions in these matters. You were simply a passenger on the ship, verging on stowaway, spending your days in the quiet of your own room for the most part until…
It was the middle of the day, and the sun burned above you brightly, yet you shivered. You had always known to trust your father’s judgement and his decisions, but there was no possible way in which this was right. That this was how it would end.
The alleyway practically screamed at you for you to go and run in and get him out of there, but with so many people watching, it would be hopeless. The guards would get you before you had even reached the stairs. You would have to wait.
‘It’s good to see you again, miss.’ A voice pulled you out of your thoughts. It took you a few slow blinks to realise who it was.
‘Oh, you too, Mr Bowman.’ you smiled towards the merchant as he smiled at you through his bushy beard. He was sitting next to his table of… you were not sure what to call them. The man was quite the eccentric, and you had barely ever seen him actually make a sale on any of his products, but you doubted he was there for business anyway. ‘Have I missed much in the past months?’ You could always count on him for good stories about the townsfolk. The man had all his senses on sharp, constantly vigilant of everything around him. 
‘I think your return is the biggest news we’ve had in a while.’ He scratched his beard, ‘That, and well, the upcoming execution, of course.’
‘People already know?’ You blinked, not having expected that to be public knowledge yet. Then again, it is an event like no other. Preparations have to be made.
‘Edward the Banished gets arrested, and you expect people not to know?’ He laughed almost mockingly as he usually did, but you looked at him blankly.
‘The Banished?’ you had heard much about Eddie, but this name was new to your ears. 
‘Yes, ridiculous name, if you ask me,’ he waved it off, ‘Pure sensationalism as it rolls smoother on the tongue than deserter or runagate, quisling, traitor—’
‘I understand,’ you stopped him nervously. ‘But how did he get this name? What did he do?’
‘HA!’ he startled you with volume. ‘What didn’t he do, you should ask.’ This caused many of the other merchants around you to weigh in on the subject. 
‘I heard he abducted the governor’s daughter.’
‘That’s her. She’s right here.’
‘Oh. Well, he had attempted to assassinate the king of England!’
‘The Prince, you blockhead. And he did kill him!’
‘He has burned entire islands down. All over a game of cards.’
‘Stole an entire fleet and handed it over to the Spanish, just like that.’
‘He drinks the blood of his enemies!’
‘Sold his soul to the devil!’
Everyone looked at the old man that shouted this out. You were afraid to ask more questions, so let the others do this for you. ‘What do you mean, he sold his soul?’ 
‘He did! Did all those things to offer himself to Satan and do his dirty deeds here on earth. He is cursed to sail the seas in his wicked ship with the unrighteous crew for all eternity.’
‘Well, that eternity won’t last much longer.’ Someone commented, resulting in a chuckle around the street. Most of the people laughed, but you stayed quiet, your mind going back to Eddie, his body covered in unexplainable scars. The wind suddenly grew stronger.
‘I’m telling you,’ the man continued, ‘we won’t get rid of him yet! Not until Hell freezes over!’
‘Someone give the man a hat; he’s had too much sun,’ Mr Bowman called, rich coming from him, whose balding head was burning bright red. He then turned to you, shrugging as the rest had clearly proven his point. ‘And that is why I do not mess around with pirates, deary, no matter how charming they may seem.’
‘Excuse me?’ were the first words coming out of your mouth in the last few minutes, and you quickly regretted having them form into another question. 
‘I saw you two yesterday at the arrest.’ Of course, he had. Nothing around here ever escaped this man. He looked proud of himself for having witnessed the events. ‘It was quite dramatic, seeing lovers have to be broken apart like that.’
‘I think you might have had too much sun today,’ you tried to sound casual as you laughed it off. 
‘I am not here to judge,’ he said, putting his hands up in surrender, ‘simply to advise.’ 
‘Thank you, Mr Bowman.’ You smiled politely, ready to escape the conversation. You had been used to him often throwing around false and farfetched accusations, and even listening to this conversation, you knew it was nothing if not complete nonsense, just gossip gone too far along the years. So now that he had actually been correct, it stunned you, even maybe scared you. What would the people around you think if they knew what happened between you and Eddie? How would they react if they knew how you felt about his death sentence? You would be deemed mad. 
Of course, the not-so-inconspicuous guards followed you back to your room, where you stayed for the rest of the day until it was time for dinner. Your father did not join you this time. As hunger finally struck you, fighting nausea caused by the stress of the last few days, you ate everything served to you. 
On the ship, you had thought that once you came back, you wouldn't be able to stop eating all the things you had been missing for months, but nothing tasted as good as you remembered. In fact, nothing was as good as you remembered. The food was bland, the flowers not as vibrant, and the people not as joyous. Once, you had heard laughter and chatter, but it seemed like the streets grew cold and silent, leaving you alone to your thoughts. 
After your meal, you walked out of the room but turned left instead of taking the right towards your room. People immediately caught on. 
‘Miss? Where are you going?’ A guard called out.
‘Oh,’ you attempted to sound like you had not expected this exact conversation when you moved, ‘just thought of going on a stroll. The night air does me rather well.’ You grinned in a way you hoped would come off naive. 
‘I do not think that’s a good idea.’ The guard said. ‘I would suggest that you return to your room,’ he spoke in a tone telling you that it was not a suggestion at all. Not in the slightest.
‘Am I on house arrest?’
‘See it more as a curfew.’ 
You scoffed at the idea, or more that you had very little choice but to obey. There was a moment in which you stared up at the guard, switching between expressions to get him to crack and let you go, but to your disappointment, he cocked his head toward your room. 
How were you ever supposed to get to Eddie if they constantly watched you? The question kept you up another whole night and the next day. Just for the sake of it, since they so desperately needed to be with you at all times, you decided to sit in the library for about four hours with no book in sight, just staring out the window, letting them stare at you. At a certain point, you had caught one man actually yawning.
‘I am absolutely certain that there are at least fifty things that would be more  productive for you to do then this,’ you broke the deafening, maddening silence, still looking out the window. You had counted all the leaves on the tree branch that kept hitting the pane in the breeze and had recollected every corridor and door in the house. In the reflection of the glass, you could see the guards glance nervously at each other, and with a smile, you turned to face them. ‘You can just go. I won’t tell anyone.’ But they stood their ground. With a groan, you sank back down into the chair. 
It would take much longer for them to break, so much more time that you—that  Eddie—did not possess. Three days left before the execution. Three days left for you to take the chance and do something. Save him. There were a million ideas, one worse after the other, with so many risks and problems that it could eventually end in your own hanging. 
You shut your door at the end of the day, and it must have sounded through the entire house. Another day gone, and you had gotten nowhere. You could see the shadows of their feet come through the gap underneath your door, and they would be there the next morning when you awoke. Sleep deprived from tossing and turning as long as the sun was down. The bed still felt too big for comfort. At one point, they had run into the room at the sound of muffled screams, just for you to pull your head out of your pillow to yell at them to get out. 
You walked towards the dining room for breakfast, this time wearing a rose gold dress, surprised not to be followed by a parade of footsteps but halted at the sound of voices coming from inside the hall. 
‘I think it is safe to say that she does not require any supervision, sir.’ one of the guards said. You never bothered to learn their names, too frustrated to care, but you learned to recognise their voices from the amount of squabbling you had done. 
‘Is that so?’ your father munched away. 
‘She does nothing but mope around all day, quite harmless, I’d say… uhh, sir.’ The other added. 
Mope? You did not mope, if only because they sucked your life out with their constant “supervision”. As much as you wanted to burst into the room, you composed yourself and listened on. 
‘Does she seem well, in the head, I mean?’ Your father asked, but they did not reply. Not verbally, at least; you could imagine them looking at each other in the way they did, and just the idea made you clench your fists until they turned pale.
‘She’s stubborn, a bit immature, a bit aggressive.’ One of them chose his words carefully and slowly.
‘So that’s a no, I take it,’ your father concluded. You took this as your opportunity to announce yourself with a few loud steps, moving back a few paces to repeat them with exaggeration. 
‘Good evening, father,’ you said as you took your seat, not giving him or the other man any more of your attention. The guards glanced at you nervously before leaving the room.
‘Terrorised the guards, I see?’ he asked.
‘No more than they did me,’ you replied in the same emotionless tone as you ate.
‘I just wanted what’s best for you. It had been a tumultuous time, and you had gone through quite– ’
‘Is that a reason to… to lock me up and have me followed around like some kind of—’ You were at a loss for words, so instead, opted for a frustrated groan and stuffing your face with a forkful of lamb. 
‘Well, you’ve proved me wrong. Clearly, you can still care for yourself.’ he wiped his mouth with a napkin and stood up. ‘I’ll make them let you be from now on,’ and with that, he walked away. You couldn’t suppress the smile that rose to your lips once the doors closed behind him, immediately knowing the first place you were heading to with your newfound “freedom”. 
The kitchen. 
Well, that is not exactly the first thing. You had to wait for all the dishes to be cleared from the dining room, so you wandered around the corridors and then headed down the stairs as quietly as possible to not raise any attention to yourself. 
As suspected, the kitchen was empty. Most of the food on the plates still untouched. Quietly, you grabbed a basket and began picking things out here and there, those that would go unnoticed by anyone walking in to grab a midnight snack. The only thing that might have caught someone’s attention by going missing was one of the larger bottles of rum stacked on a shelf. 
You placed a napkin over the basket's content and grabbed one of the staff member’s hoods to cover yourself up with before heading outside. It would help against the cold night air and hopefully make you a bit less noticeable, as the grey hood did not stand out as much as your extravagant dress. As you took the first steps out into the garden, the idea came to you that maybe that was another idea of them trying to keep you inside these walls. After all, while you had always had nice clothing, it did not compare to the dresses you’ve worn since your return. It could be seen as a welcome home gift, but it was undeniable that the dress you wore now could be spotted from miles away.
You pulled the cloak tighter over yourself.
Besides a few men who were too drunk to notice or care who you were, the streets were also empty. The men standing at the prison doors were half asleep, and either way, you were not too anxious about them as they were usually more preoccupied with keeping people in than out. You slipped through the shadows into the alley and only dared to breathe once inside. The steps leading further into the building were uneven, especially in the dark. The only light was half-burned-up torches lining the path. A crinkly small corridor that eventually led to a crooked staircase. You could barely keep yourself up straight, almost tripping over your feet. Reaching the bottom of the stairs, where the dungeon's entrance stood, took almost longer than the walk to the building across town as you held onto the cold wall, doing your best not to fall.
Now, you could only pray that the final door was not locked. The handle wiggled and creaked open. 
You hesitated. What would await you inside? This whole trek had been based on your intuition that he would be put in one of the isolated cells, away from the petty criminals. But what if they kept him somewhere else? What if they had done something to him and… well, there was only one way to find out.
As you stepped into the caved-out room and almost instantaneously, never before had you felt such a cold fall over you. Maybe it was due to the thick walls absorbing all sound or how the slit-like windows below the ceiling only let through the tiniest slivers of moonlight, obstructing any of the day’s heat from entering the room. Or maybe it was the sight of him in the pale torchlight that chilled you to the bone. 
He was seated on the ground, framed by a cell jagged from rock and steel bars. The moonlight managed to just about frame his face, exhausted and fragile. His eyes were closed in pretend sleep. You could tell that much as his brows furrowed at the sound of your footsteps. You tried to call out to him, but your throat was stuck. But you didn’t need to say anything. He called your name in a weak voice, in a hesitant manner, as if he was making sure that what he saw was real. If you were really there. 
‘What are you doing here?’ he asked in disbelief.
What were you doing here?  You had been asking yourself this the entire walk up to the cells, trying to find a reason why it meant so much to you to see him again, to help him, and yet you still could not come up with anything. There was no response besides holding up the basket with a weak smile and saying, ‘I thought you would like some dinner.’ 
Eddie sat straight, pulling himself up by one of the cell bars. As you walked up to his cell and sat down on the ground beside him, you could feel his eyes on you. Pure disbelief at your presence, the food. You held the meat out to him, but he did not move. 
‘It is not poisoned,’ you smiled sheepishly, ‘if that is what you’re wondering.’ Even when you handed him the food to eat. He did so slowly, apprehensively at first, still unable to look away from you. Perfectly understandable. You had barely gotten used to this. How the beading and frame of the dress poked at you from every angle. Your feet hurt, and your hair had been pulled into an intricate hairstyle, causing you to walk around with a headache for hours. Not that it was anything to compare to Eddie’s circumstances. He sat in his cell, too small to stretch his body out in, with no bed, just the cold hard ground. They had removed his jacket and belt, leaving him to sit out the cold of the night in just his shirt. You also noticed a new bruise forming on his jaw, which certainly had not been there when you last saw him. All this to break him down, yet the way he looked at you—you could have sworn you were still lying together in his bed, far away from all this. 
He glanced down at your dress, how it pooled around you, almost leaking through the cell barriers up to him in all its opulence. ‘How the tables have turners, haven’t they, princess,’ he chuckled, and you had never thought to be so happy from hearing such a simple sound. The nickname felt deliberately chosen at this time, too. You pulled at the edges of your dress, collecting it closer to you.
‘I know, I look ridiculous.’ 
‘I think the word you’re looking for is beautiful,’ he said between bites, but you ignored the compliment, knowing that if you let it get to you, it would come together with a shower of tears. As he kept on eating his food, you sighed, letting your side hit the wall as you leaned up to him. You handed him more of the food that you had brought him and the rum, then let him finish in silence. His mere presence beside you already was more than enough. The sound of his deep calm breaths was enough to put you to rest, and it pleased you that the sea had not left him just yet. He still smelled of it. That fresh sea salt air was simply stuck in his hair. You refrained from combing your fingers through it.
This was already so far from what you had expected things to go like. You had thought that once you came home, even with his request for a hefty payment, he would still be welcomed as a hero. That you could make things work and somehow, maybe, naively, be together. Even now, you thought that if he saw you here, you would have some kind of moment of clarity where everything became crystal clear and easy to understand. That you would know exactly what to do, and it would be glorious. You thought he would be happy to see you. Never had you imagined him asking you again, ‘What are you doing here? Really.’
‘I wanted to see you,’ you said, but he could read past all your layers. ‘And… over the past few days, I have heard things. About you. Things that I can hardly believe to be true and yet are seen as such by the majority of people, so I hoped you could clear some things up for me.’
‘You don’t believe your own people but would believe me?’ He took a swig of the rum, already handing it back to you, but you declined, giving it back.
‘I have given you my trust more times than I should have, and so far, it has not led me down any dark paths, but I can only hope that you will not break that bond now.’ After all that you had been through? Was he in any position to do so? ‘So I hope you will tell me what really happened. I—I remember you, years ago, meeting with my father and Carver. You were in the military, right?’
Eddie let his head roll back, hitting the wall behind him with a shallow thud. ‘You remember me?’ 
‘It came to me during the storm. A memory of you walking with them in the garden. For the longest time, I could not make sense if it had been real or if my mind playing tricks on me, but I realised now what it was.  You looked different, but it was you, wasn’t it? You were like them?’ 
‘Turns out, maybe I still am, and more than you’d think,’  he sighed, ‘or less, depending on how you look at it.’ He took another sip of the drink. 
‘Will you tell me, please?’ You pleaded, eagerly awaiting the answers to what you had been trying to figure out long before you had returned home. Eddie looked apprehensive. 
‘What good will it do?’ He turned his head in your direction, still leaning against the wall. You moved over to be closer to him, your legs almost touching. 
‘Perhaps nothing, but—’ you sighed, ‘All my life, I’ve been protected. I’ve had everything handed to me without any trouble. I had spend most of my years never further away than these shores and always under someone’s watch. I had never had the space to make risks or mistakes. There was no such thing as danger. Even now, I had been under constant watch. No one will answer my questions or even listen to me because they want to protect me. Because they think I’m fragile and cannot handle it.’ 
At this, Eddie scoffed. ‘If anything, they cannot handle you, darling.’ 
‘Meanwhile, you,’ you smiled, ignoring the heat burning over your cheeks, ‘Well, perhaps not all your methods were ideal, but you never treated me like I was made of glass. You pushed me, and it actually, for once, made me feel alive and like I am worth being in the room with.’
Eddie reached for your hand. ‘You’re worth so much more than that,’ he mumbled against your knuckled as he kissed them. He held on to you as he began talking slowly, choosing his words wisely. ‘I had joined the navy younger than anyone should have—my parents couldn’t afford me, so I had to make myself useful quickly, and that felt at least somewhat commendable, no matter how it would end. 
‘Started right at the bottom, but I wanted to prove myself. I followed orders, did everything what was asked of me, and more, and I moved through the ranks. As I gained more of a position, I got more of an insight into the men I was working for and with.’ 
As he spoke, you watched his eyes pale, haze over with memories. The dam he had built around them had broken up, flooding out, and he could not stop it anymore.  He wanted to continue, but he hesitated, glancing your way, but you encouraged him to go on with a nod of the head. Even then, he scratched at his face nervously and took a deep breath. 
‘We would find ourselves everywhere around the world, and a certain power comes with wearing a uniform. It is universal, one that everyone understands and is willing to abuse. It was easy to see yourself as better than the poor locals, to excuse yourself from the import taxes and all the bureaucracy around the travel. I had done it myself, flashing a grin with the mindset of superiority.’ He hid his face in his hands, groaning. You reached out for his arm. 
‘Hey, it’s okay,’ you hushed, but was it really?
‘When you get that taste of power when it hits right, it is hard to let go. It had never sat well with me; every time I got away from a port without paying for my ship, I stayed up entire nights as the guilt ate away from me, but it had been what everyone else was doing, and you don’t want to fall behind. It had become a pressure to boast your power over those who did not have any. 
‘And this power…. it turned darker as simple actions of business turned to abuse. Swindling merchants of their products, conning drunks with games, and stealing their money. Taking advantage of… everyone. It had become a sport to them.
‘I was aware of it, but it had somehow never seemed that serious—it happened so gradually—until one day I saw one of the commanders with this girl…’ his breath hitched. You squeezed his hand to remind him that you were there, that you were listening. ‘She was just a child, and when I saw what he—I lost control of myself, lashed out at him. It had been stupid trying to argue with someone that outranked me. There was no one I could tell that would do anything about it, not when they were all just as bad.
‘Then Carver came up to me one day. Said that together we could make a change.’ Eddie’s jaw clenched. ‘I should have known better. He had always been too close with the rest of them, but we planned on making a change.
‘But on the day we were about to tell your father about everything that happened on our voyages—the day we saw each other in the garden, in fact,’ he squeezed your hand back. ‘We never got the chance because I was sent away.’ Something in you caught your breath, making him smile lightly. 
‘There had been talk of a war, and so I was sent out with a fleet to take charge. Carver had promised me he would take care of everything in my absence, but—’
‘He didn’t,’ you finished the sentence for him.
‘In a way, he did. Of course, it was all a hoax. He had needed an excuse to get rid of me. It took me three months to get back, having found no signs of possible ambushes, and when I did, I returned to the news that Hargrove, the commander I had attacked, had been found dead that same evening I left. And there was the missing gold and the rumours of a coup, among other things. Somehow, he had convinced everyone I had gone above and beyond in betraying our country, but the murder charges hit the heaviest. They thought I had killed one of our own.
‘The only people on my side had been those on the ship with me, and they had given up all they had by giving me their trust. They were marked as traitors just for standing up against the accusations. I  already had lost everything I had to lose and could not stand by it, so I left. I took my ship and my crew, and we sailed off. 
Bowman’s words rang through your mind as Eddie said this. Deserter. Runagate. Quisling. Traitor. You still wanted to ask him so much, but you let him speak before interrupting. 
‘The sea was a liberation. We were free to do whatever we wanted, so we did, but I always felt like I was tied back to this place. Like…’ he laughed, ‘like a rope was hanging around my neck, dragging me back here. At first, I thought it was guilt, so I did my best to reprimand everything they had done. I wanted to do something for all those men and women we had hurt, give them some form of protection against those uniforms. 
‘But no matter what I did, who I helped, that feeling did not stop. In a way, it grew worse. I got angry and felt like the only thing that would help me was revenge; I stayed up most nights thinking of unimaginable things. I got lost in the darkness of it. If it wasn’t for Harrington, I don’t know what would have become of me.’
‘Harrington?’ You could see how that would happen, but the mention of him somehow startled you. It's another piece of the story that made it feel so real.
‘He had been in a similar position as me. His commanding officer had been asking him to do all these dirty jobs until he had had enough. It had only been a couple of days since he had given up his post when we met one night at a tavern. He wouldn't have joined us if it had not been for a game of cards. Neither would have Robin.’
You had no idea how long you had sat there, just enough for your body to grow cold and stiff on the ground, but you could not care less about any of that, too focused on his story. As he mentioned Steve and Robin, his smile reached his eyes for the first time since you had arrived, revitalising you, knowing that there was still something in his life that left fond memories behind. You leaned forward, resting your chin on your hand as you listened on. 
‘Either way, I had fallen into a deep, dark pit, and Steve pulled me out. He showed me what I was doing did no good for anyone but them. It was eating me alive, killing me from the inside.’
‘But you still killed them all.’ The words left your mouth sooner than you could think them through. Knowing his reason behind it all made you understand, but it did not lessen the impact of the deed. 
Hearing you say that, Eddie quickly turned his entire body to you, pulling himself as close to you as possible, almost pushing himself through the bars. His eyes were full of an intensity that burned through your soul.
‘I am not trying to make excuses. I did what I did—I led my crew towards the Red Tail and let them sink that ship, but not for myself. That is what Harrington made me realise. I did not need to see them die, but they needed to pay for everything they had done. For ruining all those people’s lives. You must understand that?’ 
He didn’t need to see them die. Moments flashed before you of your very first seconds on the Hellfire. Of Eddie walking up to you, the words he spoke in front of you. 
– Carver? Where is that pesky little bilge rat? 
– Bled out on the ship. 
– Shame. Would have like to have seen that. ‘You weren’t even there.’ you whispered.
‘It wasn’t about me.’ He shook his head. ‘Besides, if I had been the one to kill them, it would have only satisfied them. To see me become what they had told the world I already was. All I wanted was for them to be gone. Just gone. 
‘None of this,’ his eyes darted over your face. ‘Was meant to happen to you. My men were simply looking for the things in the office that had already been stolen. But then they saw you under that table, they couldn’t leave you. You were innocent.’ His hand reached out to brush over your cheek. Only at his touch did you realise that you had started to cry as he wiped down your tears. ‘And to you, I am truly sorry for everything I put you through.’ 
 You had nothing to reply with but a kiss, pulling him close to you. The steel bars of the cell caused an awkward distance between you, yet you never felt closer. It was as if now, you finally, truly, knew who it was you were touching. The kiss had been brief, but the silence that followed stretched on. The two of you sat there, sinking away from reality, but the questions you still had kept you grounded. Just as Eddie had said, a noose dragging you back. 
‘Eddie,’ you called him carefully. ‘What about the letter?’ 
‘What letter, princess.’ His hand kept rubbing over your tear-stained cheek. 
‘You know which one I mean,’ you pulled back slightly to be able to look properly at him. ‘Who was it for?’ 
He laughed, the saddest laugh you had ever heard come from him, and it pained you from within. ‘What does all this matter? I will be dead soon. The less there is left of me here, the better.’
 You watched him pull himself up again to sit, tap his knuckles on his knee. His answer had angered you. ‘Because…’ you took a deep breath, taking the leap you had been too afraid to take. ‘it just gives me that much less time to know the man I have fallen in love with.’ You wanted to keep as much of him as possible. That is what you could do by listening. To give him that voice in his own story. 
Eddie fell silent. His mouth opened to speak, but no voice came out for several tries. He searched for the right words until he finally blinked slowly and looked up at the ceiling. His jaw clenched once again, in the way that he sucked in a deep breath. As he released it, he said: ‘Her name was Christina.’
‘Your wife?’ Again, you thought of what he had told you earlier. I  already had lost everything I had to lose. He must have had people who cared for him before all this had happened.
‘Fiancée,’ he corrected, not that it mattered to either of you. ‘We had known each other our whole lives, having grown up on the same streets. We kept each other strong with this promise that one-day things would get better. That we would escape from all the burdens and create our own paradise. She was the reason I—’ he couldn’t speak of it out loud, and you didn’t need him to. You didn’t tell him to continue the story when he eventually did. 
‘Foolishly, I had not told her anything of what went on. I told her things would finally be good for us when I returned. We would leave and never turn back. I thought I was protecting her by keeping it all from her, but it was the final nail in my coffin.
 ‘She had been the first person I saw after my return, and I could sense that something was wrong.  Then the guards knocked on the door, and she opened it like she had been expecting them. 
‘I could only assume it was Carver. That he told her what he told everyone else. She wouldn’t look at me, touch me, speak to me. No matter how hard I tried to prove myself, he had poisoned her with his words. In the end, she only saw me as a monster.’ 
The last word stung you in your chest, knowing how often you had used that exact word to describe him yourself. How often have you called him a monster or even worse?  But his openness triggered more memories to come up. Your conversations with the crew of the Red Tail. Their stories and lives. 
‘Christina…’ you mumbled the name with familiarity. ‘That was… that was the name of the admiral’s wife.’
‘It does not come to me as a surprise,’ he chuckled that sad laugh again. He had clearly expected to hear those words eventually. You looked at him, feeling the sting in the corners of your eyes. The tears were coming right back, but he quickly wiped those too. ‘Please, don’t. I do not need your pity. I have told you everything there is to know about me, and that is all I could or ever will ask of you again.’
‘I don’t—’ you wanted to speak, but he quickly went on. As he held your face in his hands, his thumb brushed over your lips, 
‘And I will cherish these moments, every second I spent with you, until my last breath. I will think of you as the sun sets, I promise you.’
‘What—what are you talking about?’ your voice choked between sobs. 
‘I never expected you to come here,’ he kissed you, passing all the feelings he had voiced earlier over to you with the touch of his lips, ‘but don’t come here again.’
‘What? No!’ You pushed yourself away. This wasn’t the plan. You were going to help him. You were going to get him out of here. As you got up to your feet, so did he, reaching for your hand again.
‘Listen to me.’ he gritted his teeth in desperation. ‘There is no way out of here, and it will only get worse for me.’ As he said so, your eyes flashed back to the bruise on his pale skin. ‘I do not want you to see me like that. Let this be where we say our goodbyes.’ He held your hand, finger over your knuckles, soothingly. You hated that he was comforting you at this moment.
‘No,’ you whimpered, head shaking. You turned your hand around in his to grab onto his fingers. One of his skull rings slowly began to slide off, and so you stopped before it dropped.
‘Please,’ he squeezed your hand.
‘No!’ you shouted, not caring if the guards outside could hear you. They might storm inside any second now and drag you out, they could try, but you wouldn’t let them. ‘I won’t let you die.’
‘It’s okay.’ He said. With every sentence he spoke, a new piece of the puzzle had been allotted to its place, but the final picture still blurred before your mind. It only seemed like even more gaps needed to be filled in, but it was slowly coming together, and when it did… You wanted to cry out. 
Eddie held you as best as he could through his restraints, the faintest smile painted over his lips. 
‘You knew, didn’t you?’ you stood there, defeated. ‘That if you would come back here with me, that this would happen. You knew you would be arrested and hanged.’
‘At least now I truly deserve it.’ All the crimes he committed at sea trying to help others, what he had let happen to the Red Tail. ‘So, please, just go. I promise, it will be alright.’ 
You wanted to scream at him. Hit him, punch him, and much more for all of this. You wanted him to hurt as much as you did as he told you to leave, but in reality, you doubted anything you could do to him would match even half of the pain you felt as you stood there. You wanted him to hurt, but all you could do was take one last step forward and pull him in to kiss you. 
When you left, you could still feel him on your lips. That feeling let you move step by step out onto the street. Everything else felt not quite right, not quite real. You walked mindlessly across the empty market, barely aware of your surroundings, until you suddenly stood in front of your room door. You dropped the empty basket at your side and practically floated onto the bed.
It was late; you had no idea what time exactly, but too late for anyone to help you get out of that corset. You lay on the bed, now unable to get up, unwilling to move even if you could, staring up at the ceiling. Maybe you never stopped staring or fell into a slumber, but the next morning you still lay on your back, barely changing position over the early morning hours.
 You sat in your room, looking at the tide coming and going, pushing the sand and the rocks through the hours. The hours blurred; days became night, and the moon turned into the sun. The following two days passed, and you spend them in silent disbelief and confusion, just fighting to not return to the prison cell.
There must be something you could do. People you could convince or pay or bribe in any other way to not let the execution take place. Help him escape. 
This could not be the end.
But Eddie had made his final wish clear. You were not to see him again, and what could you do when no one would listen to you? When everyone on the island had his mind set on what Eddie was? You were paralysed with helplessness, and no matter what you tried to do or what to think about, it just would not go away. It grew inside you, impossible to ever leave you again, and you were slowly making peace with that. Your own price to pay for not being able to do anything for him when he truly needed it.
Even when you arrived at the square, which was filling up with an audience hours before the event, were you trying to look for escape routes, but the more people arrived, the more challenging a wall they created to penetrate. You would never be able to run through it, but you thought of it. Holding his hand, never looking back.
The sun that afternoon was flaming hot, burning through all the layers of your dress that pinned into your ribs as you sat down. The governing families got the best seats on the raised platform in the house, with plush chairs to wait on while everything was prepared. There was only the cool breeze of your fan to cool you down, but it did nothing on your nerves. They burned within just as much as the sun's rays. 
You had not been sure if coming was a good choice or if you were prepared to witness Eddie’s death, but your absence would surely be questioned and… and you could not pass on the ever last possibility of seeing him. The dubiety ran through you with a threat of tears.
But more and more people came around to see, and you traced each face to find someone who could help you. Someone on your side. A familiar ally, but no luck. They were all prepared to see a man die tonight. The mumbling amongst them turned into chatter, and the conversations of local gossip turned to absolute mudslinging.
‘I heard he has killed over a thousand men with his bare hands.’
‘Well, I heard he had planned on taking over the army in order to become the next king!’
‘And I heard—’
‘I heard—’
I heard… One thing after the other, each one worse than the last. Could they not see this? All of it nothing but hearsay. They were putting a man on death row for things overheard at the market. Of course, no one would listen if you were to say this. 
The sky slowly turned a warm orange, glowing on the buildings like a soft fire. The bell in the church tower struck seven times, half through instinct and half through custom, people’s heads turned in one direction. All but yours because as they all looked at the procession—the court man carrying a large scroll of parchment, followed by the executioner, who pulled the chains that were locked around Eddie’s wrists and the two guardsmen behind him, weapons at the ready—you stared ahead at the gallows. The rope hanging on it looked short and could only mean one thing. 
A slow and painful death.
The clanking of the shackles echoed through the entire square with each step Eddie took. He was barely visible through the crowd, but the length of the executioner in front of him ensured everyone could follow the death march.
Eddie looked ill—pale and fragile. His steps were shaking, not improved at all by the heavy chains that pulled him forward. He stumbled around up the stairs to the gallow. You could see his eyes look up in fearful amazement at the construction of the gibbet. His Adam’s apple choked up and down, and then his eyes caught sight of you. 
Everything began to move at a slowed-down pace. 
He must not have expected you to come or hoped you wouldn’t because the brave and confident facade cracked for the tiniest moment. The sadness dominated his features for a glimpse of time, but it was all you could see. Too occupied by his view, he had missed his call to step up. The hangman shouted something from underneath his black hood, kicking Eddie forward. You flinched as Eddie kept his balance not to fall to the floor. You couldn’t do this. You could not watch this go down, but you did not want to leave him behind. Not ever. This could not be the end.
The court man stepped forward, unscrolling his parchment as he cleared his throat. It was enough for the people below, standing on the pavement, in the shadows of the buildings, on the balconies, to quiet down and listen as he read: 
‘On this day,’ his voice carried through the entire square, ‘we bear witness to the punishment of Edward Munson, pirate, for his admitted crimes of theft, perjury, extortion, abduction, desertion, high treason and murder, sentencing him to death as decided by the governing council. 
‘He shall hang here for God to give his final judgement and remain a reminder for any wrong-doers and sinners to come!’
You glanced at your father, who sat by untouched. Was Eddie’s body here to stay forever? You could not imagine having to walk around this town every day just to see his body be taken by the elements. 
The sun was nearly at the horizon, shining bright at all of you, its heat still heating your skin. 
The people cheered as the rope was put around Eddie’s neck, who waved to them as if they were not cheering on his demise. One hand pulling the other up, making the chain between them clink. A smile pulled at the corner of his lips, and it astonished you to see that he managed to stay his entertaining self even now. Always playing a role for the other man. Here to entertain. To provoke. To distract.
But the smile faded, body stiffened as the noose was pulled taut.
‘That’s a bit tight,’ Eddie commented, and in response to that, the hooded man pulled it even tighter. It dug into his skin. He looked down at where the floor would soon disappear from underneath him, then up at the sky and with a slight choke, he spoke out his final words, embellished by the last spark of his life: 
‘To reign is worth ambition though in hell: Better to reign in hell, then serve in heaven.’
People gasped, mumbling amongst each other once more until hushed to silence by the hangman walking up to the lever that would set everything into motion. As Eddie took his final breath, everyone held theirs in anticipation. Your hands were shaking; every breath you took felt like a betrayal to him and like a stab in your lungs. Your fan moved faster, the small gushes of wind barely doing anything to cool down your face. This could not be the end. Not this. Not now. It couldn’t be—
The arm was pulled, and it was as if it had removed the ground from underneath your feet; that’s how deep the drop in your stomach was as you saw Eddie fall. It was as much as you could bear seeing before you turned around, hiding your face in your hands, hiding your tears from everyone else. 
When hanging a person, two types of noose could be used. With the longer drop, the fall's impact would cause the neck to break and bring instant death. The shorter rope prolongs the act of dying as the rope digs into their throat, cutting off their air. During this, the square is filled with the sound of choked gasps, encouraged by the hundreds of onlookers. 
If you had been one of them, down there on the ground, with easy access to the podium, you would have stormed it. Cut the rope loose. But you sat on the balcony, surrounded by your father and the other gentlemen and guards, unable to move anywhere. So you could only hope that there would be someone to do what you wanted to do. That someone would show up and save him like you wish you could. But when no one came, and his strangled groans became more sporadic, you had had enough. You couldn’t do this. You could not sit by and watch or even listen to what was happening before you. 
Your father’s call of your name was muffled by the public, and your own internal screams as you ran out. Arms reached for you, but you pushed past them all. As soon as you were out of everyone’s sight, the tears started to flow, and they would not stop no matter how far you ran. And you wanted to run as far away as possible, as far away as your legs could take you. Off this island, away from these people. Yet, you eventually carried yourself back to the square. Each step made you dizzy through the corridors and down the stairs, but you could not stand still. 
You had thought you were faster, but as soon as you pushed the heavy doors open and saw the stream of people walking away, the truth sank into your bones. You pushed your way past the crowd back to the open marketplace. As soon as it was done, people lost interest and continued with their evenings as if nothing had happened, ready for whatever next was to come eventually. By the time you reached the foot of the gallow, there was practically no one else around you. 
The sun was saying its goodbyes, and his body was a dark shadow across the obscuring sky, hanging limp, still swinging from side to side but with every second coming closer to its final halt. Something about the movements looked so serene that you could not come to terms with that this was really it. Just like that… he was gone, but it happened so quickly, so easily. Too quickly. 
You stood in front of him as the last people left, and the sun disappeared at the end of the world until the real darkness fell upon you, and your tears finally dried out until your throat screamed for water and air, and you could barely stand up straight.
This could not be the end.
And you were one of the first people to hear of it. 
First, there was the prickling of the fire in the reading room, the flipping of the pages as you stared ahead at the words of the book, making yourself seem present in the room as your father sat by. Then there were the rushed footsteps in the hallway. The hushed whispers of hesitance behind the closed door as the men contemplated what to do. A creak of the door as they walked inside towards your father and leaned in to whisper so you would not hear what they had to say.
But the room was so quiet, you heard it quite clearly.
‘Sir, there is an…a problem.’
‘What is the matter?’ Your father, as always, did not find much need to express himself largely, but at the guard's response, his eyes grew wide, and for a moment, the glow of the fire seemed that much cooler.
‘The body…. It’s gone, sir.’
‘What do you mean,’ he composed himself quickly, ‘he is gone? How can that be?’ 
The guards never looked so small. ‘We do not know sir, but he is. It is like he has disappeared into thin air.’
‘Absurd,’ your father got up, and so did you. Before you got to say a word or take a step forward, he quickly stopped you. ‘You stay here.’
‘Absolutely not.’ Was all you replied as you rushed out of the room ahead of anyone else. 
You had already made your peace with never stepping a foot inside the town square ever again, not if you would have to be reminded of that afternoon, of everything that happened in the last months, but as you walked back up to it, you could not have been happier that you had returned. 
Only the rope left was where his body had hung and where it had meant to hang for days to come. Its perfectly knotted noose swayed like he had the last time you saw him. 
Everyone else was right behind you, but just before they reached the platform with you, you noticed something in the corner of your eye. A shine against the moonlight on the wooden beams. You could just barely reach it, but with a stretch of the arm, your fingertips just about managed to get a grip on it. Before you could look at it, you heard your father shout orders at the guards, making them search everywhere in the nearby surroundings. Maybe whoever had taken the body was still somewhere nearby. 
Whoever took it… was that what happened? Before you could look around for more signs that could clarify the situation, you were called to return back home. It would do little good to argue now, so you followed the guard tasked with escorting you to your room. Only when he closed your door and you sat down at your drawing desk that you opened your fist to reveal what it was you had found beneath the rope.
The pair of hollowed-out eyes of the skull ring stared back at you. There was no possible way for you to know what this meant if it even meant something, but you couldn’t help but smile. The ring was loose on your finger, but you kept it on. 
This could not be the end of Captain Eddie Munson. 
It wasn’t. 
For most people, he lived on as a ghost story, and as you had learned from a very young age, dead men tell no tales. The living pass their stories around, mouth to mouth, page to page. Blurring the truth with their urgency for clarity, they try to make sense of things they cannot understand. Secrets become myths and legends that barely resemble the truth. 
In most cases, it takes years, decades, if not centuries, but here, on this small island, the conversations on the street already trickled with gossip and rumours the following morning.
I did not want to believe it, but it must be true, what they say. He did sell his soul to the devil! And it came to retrieve his body. 
I told you! It is useless to try and kill the unkillable! No, did you not hear what he had said? “Better to reign in hell!” But he is the devil incarnate!
Well, I’m surprised they caught him in the first place! Why he must be a ghost. The lot of them on that wicked ship. All cursed, and now he will return to haunt us for the rest of our lives! 
Who was to say out of all of them what happened on that square once darkness fell? No one was there to see it or tell the truth, as all who could had long left the island. 
They left at night, days after everything went down after the search for Eddie’s missing body had been called off, “officially” said to have been stolen but never confirmed. Those who knew what happened to it stayed in hiding until it was safe to come out until all suspicions were blurred with the gossip and basically forgotten. Quietly, they ran to the harbour, unseen by anyone, swift as the wind. 
Unnoticed by anyone…but you.
Like most of the nights, unable to fall asleep, you had been looking out your window out at the harbour and the sea. The ships that calmly stood anchored there and the waves that pushed against them. Slowly, they put you to sleep, and so at first, you thought it was just a blur of your tired gaze, the dark spot in the far distance. It wasn’t a ship. And there, on the shore, there were no people preparing a boat. Not this late… 
You rubbed your eyes, trying to better understand what they were doing. Packing in a hurry, throwing things into the bottom of the rowboat. As you watched, you told yourself that it was just the exhaustion speaking, that you were fooling yourself with this hope, but you could not let the chance pass you by.
You left your room without bothering to put anything on over your nightgown. Quietly to not gain any attention, but still as quickly as you could manage. Who knew how much time you had left before they would leave? Then once out of the house, you ran as fast as you could. The past few days, it felt like it had been all you had been doing, running to and from things, running after something without even knowing what you were looking for, but now you knew. You ran until your lungs began to burn from the warm and dry air. Until your feet were ready to give in and until you reached the sandy beach. 
As much as you wanted to scream and shout, you kept quiet. You walked carefully up to the two figures at the shore until they noticed you next to them. It happened when you were only a few feet away; they heard the scuffle of your feet or your shaky breath and pulled their guns out. They were ready to shoot, but the second they needed to notice you in the dark saved your life. That is when you locked eyes with the man in front of you.
‘Eddie?’ you cried. Before he could say anything, you took the final few steps and closed the gap between you, pressing your lips against his. Just to know it was real. Just to make sure you had not gone completely mad. You pressed yourself against every inch of him that you could. 
With the need for air, you pulled back, and instinctually, your palm met the side of his face. ‘How? I saw you—’ You both breathed heavily, chests raising drastically as he turned back to face you with a smile and press his lips against yours again. Like the last pieces of the puzzle, his hands fit on your body perfectly. 
Then he pulled you apart, with his hands on your face, wiping away the tears that had formed along the way. ‘I know,’ he whispered, but the words were so close you could feel them. You could feel him. Just the feeling of his fingertips on your cheeks assured you that this was real and that it was really him. ‘And I’m so sorry.’
‘But why?’ You were trembling in his arms. 
‘I had realised very early on that the only way to truly escape this place was to die,’ he smiled the smile you thought you would never see again, ‘but, well, I was not ready for that just yet.’
‘But I saw you— I watched it all happen there—how did you—’ his being broke you. You could not stop staring at the man in front of you. At all the little knicks and cracks in his skin. The fading bruises, the scars, and the long red gash along his neck that proved everything that much more. 
‘I told you everything would be alright, didn’t I?’ And he never broke his promise. But still, as the truth settled in around you, it opened up a space for a new kind of hurt. 
‘Why didn’t you tell me? Why let me believe that you were gone?’
‘It was the one thing that actually killed me, believe me,’ he pushed the loose hair out of your face, ‘but I needed you to believe it like anyone else. If you believed it—it would make everything so much easier.’
You wanted to ask him what on earth that was supposed to mean, but that is when you remembered the boat at his side. And when you noticed Steve waiting impatiently behind him, the oar already in his hand.
 ‘You’re leaving.’ It wasn’t a question. Of course, he was. He couldn’t hide here forever. Out there, in the waters, he would be genuinely free. 
‘It’s all for the best, and with me gone for good, you could live on; move on,’ he said somberly. 
‘Do you think I could forget about you that easily?’ Your fist had clamped onto the material of his shirt. ‘Do you really think I think so little of you? That I had not spend every minute of the past days mourning you? Missing you?’ and now you had him… just to lose him again.
‘But it would all pass. You can find someone else, someone better, and be happy.’ He looked down at your hand to see the ring you had kept on your finger for the past few days. He kissed his ring and then looked back up at you. ‘Let me go, darling.’
‘No,’ you shook your head, much like you had in the dungeon, but this time, you were more adamant this time than ever. ‘I won’t let you. Not this time.’ 
He mumbled your name, trying to argue, but you were ready with a rebuttal before he even said anything.
‘I do not want to spend another day without you. Not if I know you are somewhere out there—’ you had been looking at the ring too, but then looked at him again as an idea formed in your brain. ‘Take me with you.’
‘I can’t do that,’ his smile was airy and light but filled with regret. ‘You belong here.’
‘No, I don’t. Remember what I told you when I came to see you?’ You pleaded with him. ‘Do you remember?’ You pushed the words out when he didn’t say anything. 
‘Yes.’ 
‘So, please, don’t leave me. Not again.’ At this point, you punched every word into his chest weakly as you began to cry again, and he let you. Then, when you were finally done, he held you, telling Steve off when he tried to put this to an end, even though he was right. There wasn’t much time left. The sun would come up soon again, and people would awake and see you, and it would all have been for nothing.
‘I wish I could give you the world, darling,’ he said, ‘I call you a princess, but we both know you should be treated as a queen and get anything you ask for, but I can’t do that for you. I am not the man you should be with.’ He kissed the top of your head. ‘Please, forgive me.’ And with that, he let you go. 
You had let him do many things in the past, but not this time.
‘Well, I don’t forgive you.’ He had already turned around to get to the boat, but you just stepped past him, stunning him and poor Steve, as you got in. ‘If you wanted the easy way out, Munson, you should have thought twice about who to kidnap.’ 
The two men looked bewildered momentarily, too stunned to respond, but Steve was the first to respond. ‘She’s right,’ and he followed you in. The boat rocked from side to side. You sighed as you looked at Eddie as he stood in the sand. 
‘I’m not scared, Eddie.’ you reached out your hand to him. ‘I want this.’ You wanted him. You wanted this life with him. You wanted to travel the world and have a life of adventures. You wanted to be free.
Eddie looked at you, still in apparent shock at your sudden assertion. You might have thought you had changed so much, but he still saw the same stubborn woman as that cursed day when you were hauled aboard his ship. On the contrary, he had been the one that changed, and he realised that as he cursed himself there on that beach. He knew he might come to regret this, but he thought he had regretted most of his choices, most of what he had done in the past months, and yet, he could not have been happier with where his life had led him, as it all led him to you. So, he took your hand and pulled himself into the boat.
You dropped the weights that had kept you anchored and made your way out into the sea where the Hellfire lay by patiently, waiting for her Captain and his Princess—despite what their titles actually may be—to return home.
The End.
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arjwrites · 3 months
Text
Close Behind- Sam Winchester x GN!Reader
Summary: You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to Sam- and that scares the hell out of him. Based on the song “Close Behind” by Noah Kahan. 
Warnings: Very very angst heavy. A poor, poor, messed up Sammy. Very slight reference to suicide. No uses of Y/N, completely gn
Word Count: 1.6k
A/N: Got the idea for this fic, sat down to write it, and posted it all in one sitting. This idea hurt my soul so bad that I had to share it with you all. I'll make sure to get some happy Sammy fluff in the works very soon because I literally broke my own heart writing this :'( PLEASE PLEASE listen to the song before or while reading this. If you don't already know it, you're welcome. Such a beautiful song and so Winchester coded, in my humble opinion. I hope you enjoy <3
-
I think I found a fear of mine
That you might love for no reason
You know I worry only luck brought me to you
Sam’s favorite sound in the world was born out of a successful hunt. It was a quiet hum, comprised of the steady rumble of the Impala’s engine, the subtle rhythm of Dean’s more subdued playlist, and the soft breaths that escaped his love’s sleeping lips. Over the years, he had begun to associate this sound with momentary comfort and safety- threats eliminated, civilians saved, and his most important people alive and well. It was the sound of a job well done and the only thing that could pull his system out of fight-or-flight for a short while. On this particular night, Bobby had joined the team for the hunt, so Sam had conceded the passenger seat to him and happily slipped into the back to share space and warmth with you. It didn’t take the lonely highway long to lull you into a peaceful sleep, and for Sam’s mind to drag itself into a million directions. The rear seat was a rare vantage point for him, the unfamiliar setting disrupting the routine settlement of his thoughts and stirring them to the surface like sediment rising from the bottom of a lake. 
Most people would say that their beloved was their peace, the one who kept them grounded and made them feel like everything would be okay. For Sam, this was partially true. You were the tether that anchored him to reality, but reality was scary. Simply knowing the name Sam Winchester put you in the line of fire, and that ate away at his conscience every single day. He knew he was so lucky to have you, but sometimes he wondered about the nature of luck’s intentions. When, in the past, had luck been truly on his side? He feared that was all that tied your heart to him- a fleeting, miraculous moment of luck that would expire any moment and pluck you out of his clutches. Someone to heal his soul and repair his damaged pieces, only so it would hurt even more when life stole you away and broke him back apart. 
I'm half awake most of the time
It's just the timing of the seasons
So you know I worry that you're all I have to lose
These were the thoughts that Sam fought to keep at bay as best he could, but his mind was weary and his fears knew his every weakness. It was hard to ignore these worries when they were self created- his very demise was an inside job. You were the only easy thing in his life, a flickering candle in a dark, damp space- bright, and warm, and magnetically inviting. But Sam felt that when he got too close, when he reached out to touch you and his fingers lingered too long, he would burn himself and extinguish your flame in the process.
This didn’t stop him from loving you, and loving you well, but it made the act a burden. Caring for you was the hardest thing he had ever done. It was always his job to take care of those around him, but for everyone else he protected, he could breathe easy once the bodies hit the floor. For you, there was no safe. There was never an end to the threats that faced you, because there was never an end to the threats that faced him. And because of this, Sam Winchester never felt worthy of you. He could never truly protect you. The very act of loving him was a death sentence, and yet he couldn’t bring himself to free you from it. 
And I should change this way of thinking
That all my fears are facts of life
But I could die tomorrow, you'd be close behind
I hate that you think of yourself that way, you would tell him. Every day I think how lucky I am to love, and to be loved by, you. You couldn’t keep me away if you tried. I’ve never felt safer than I do with you. Sam recognized the arsenal of responses you had developed to address his concerns- no worry he threw your way was ever left unanswered. But Sam was stubborn. His fears were informed by everything he had ever known, every loss he had ever faced. His life had been an uphill battle, and try as you might, there was never rest in a soldier’s mind. And for Sam, there was no way to win the war. Because if he lost you, he would lose everything. And if he died to protect you, there would be no one left to keep you safe. So all he could do was fight as hard as he could around the clock, destroying himself for the sake of your preservation. 
I live my life in years to come
To prepare myself for sorrow
So I won't worry when I crumble at your feet
Losing you was always in the back of Sam’s mind. Sometimes when he let his mind wander too far, he would try to make plans for what he would do, how he would handle it, but he could never quite wrap his head around a desire to live even a minute longer than you. These were the thoughts that plagued his mind when he would roll over to hold you a little tighter at night. He would stir and you would wake, whispering reassurances that he would never accept. Still, it was nice to hold you close. It was a reminder that you were still here, that he could savor you for as many minutes as he was blessed with. 
It wasn’t uncommon for Sam to break down in front of you. It was a heavy load he carried, and you told him time and time again to let you into his heart and mind. You do so much to care for me, Sam. Let me care for you. So every so often, when things got so dark that he lost his way, you were the one to try to coax him back to the light. 
It's something sinister to love
Without regard for dear Tomorrow
To search for worry is to love without deceit
Dean would tell him he needed to stop worrying so much, that he was ruining the love he had right in front of him by not letting himself enjoy it. Live in the moment, he’d say. Enjoy what you have right now. But that was never an option for Sam. If he let his guard down, if he let himself become distracted, weak, he could lose you. It was because he truly loved you that he piled the world atop his shoulders. It was all he felt he could do to earn the right to be loved by you. Dean would shake his head, but he knew deep down that there was nothing he could do to change his brother’s line of thinking. As long as there were monsters to hunt, there would be danger. And as long as there was danger, Sam would throw himself in the line of fire to keep you safe- whether the enemy was a ghost, a demon, or his own mind. 
So I fill my days with thinking
Though, I'm years from my true time
I could die tomorrow, you'd be close behind
Close behind. 
Hey, hey. Sam. It’s okay, breathe with me. 
Sam, I know you still worry, but we haven’t hunted for years now. There’s no more danger. 
You and me? We’re safe and sound. You can breathe easy, you can relax. 
I’m not going anywhere. 
Sam would be lying if he said he didn’t still think about losing you every day. Though you had been out of the hunting game for years, though the world had found a new peace and many of the threats had been eliminated, the worry was too far engrained into his mind. He tried to hide it from you because there was nothing you could do to help. This was a burden Sam knew he would carry for the rest of his life. His eyes would always dart around a new room for escape routes. He would always carry holy water in case he got suspicious. He would skim through old lore books in secret to keep his knowledge sharp. He still slept with his gun in his nightstand, kept as far away from him as he could bear, out of fear that you would notice its presence and recognize his fear. But you already knew all of these things. You were so attuned to everything that weighed heavy on Sam’s heart- this had always been your own burden to carry. 
I can’t wait to grow old with you, you’d hum, running your fingers through his hair or tracing circles on his forearm. Sam would nod, he would smile, he would humor you as you chatted about marriage and kids and retirement and everything he knew you deserved. You two built a beautiful, normal life together- dinner dates and romantic vacations and even a big white wedding one day. But even as he stood at the altar and watched you walk down the aisle, there was a pistol tucked into his waistband of his tux. When you moved into your first home, he would sneak out of your room in the middle of the night to stencil warding symbols underneath the paint you’d picked out for the living room. And when you were setting up the nursery before bringing home your first child… 
Sam would grow old with you, but his heart would never grow any less weary. 
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rite4fun · 1 year
Text
used to you
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i need you guys to know this was only supposed to be a short blurb but i got carried away then tried to rein it back bc i felt it getting too long and now, this is what you guys get so enjoy heheehehehe // also someone tell me i’m not the only one who has had rickyl invade their feed (not that i’m complaining)
i also scheduled this to go up last night and it didn’t so 😑
18+ content
••
it had been you two from the start, you and daryl falling easily together. as strangers to acquaintances to friends to lovers.
the pair of you had just meshed unbelievably well and no one could stop it, not that they would want too. you guys complimented each other with your sweet softness and his edgy strength, both bringing out something the other needed.
with everything you both went through, landing in a community that called for settling was the last thing you guys expected but it was welcomed.. atleast for some of your group.
it took awhile for your groups leader, rick, to realize that it was safe, seemingly struggling the most out of everyone despite needing this equally as much.
but something about watching you and daryl fall into a routine: waking up in the morning, sharing breakfast before parting for the day, only to come back together at dusk to eat dinner before falling into bed together- it all made him feel like it was okay to just.. be, for now.
and he was, he could handle coming home after a long day of work to no one but his kids and crawling into an empty bed- until he wasn’t.
because somewhere in your sweet soul, you began helping with the kids, making sure breakfast was served for everyone, bidding farewell from the porch with baby judith stuck to your hip, then greeting everyone cheerfully with dinner and equally charming dismissals of sweet dreams.
you’d given him a taste of what domestic life was like and that would have been fine too, he could find someone to fill that space- except they wouldn’t ever reach the level of grace and love, you exuded in your actions for him and his kids.
all of it, had him looking at you differently.
finding himself laughing harder at your dumb jokes, making fickle eye contact, constant fidgeting with his clothes or hair, and following you like a damn puppy whenever you were near.
and it was no secret to daryl or you. having found his newfound traits towards you to be a tad amusing.
daryl figured it out first; always the best observer, he found his friends eyes lingering longer than normal on you. saw the way he went out of his way sometimes to just speak to you but he’d never touch.
while you; a woman, well.. don’t woman know everything? it wasn’t exactly rocket science to figure it out with the way he fumbled his words around you and constantly asked your opinions on things that held no real weight.
daryl kept quiet on the matter whereas the minute you caught whiff of ricks growing crush, you had giddily told him.
there wasn’t much else that came of it, daryl wasn’t threatened nor worried and you basked under the extra attention while rick remained oblivious to both of your acknowledgment of his clear infatuation.
but resisting you was daryls biggest downfall and he knew, with time, rick would eventually want to cave into his desires too. that’s when he questioned you on the matter again, wanting to find out just exactly how you felt about it all, along with the what ifs.
with the sun setting, the fire sizzled along with the chatter of people around him. daryl sat in a lawn chair, legs bent and spread with the neck of a beer held loosely in one hand as his hooded eyes followed your figure.
you; who had taken advantage of the humid weather to doll yourself up in a short sundress that swayed with the light wind every now and then, stood across the grassy area. your hands animated as you gleefully spoke to maggie and rosita.
since you’ve left his lap, he has done nothing but follow you with his eyes as you bounce from one group to another. you’d had a few sips of some fruity cocktail someone had made, the lightweight you were showcased even more as you became more touchy to everyone willing to accept your loving affection.
it amused him more than anything, better than any pointless conversations that surrounded him.
there was a light sheen layered over your warm skin, glistening under the little light left from the sky. daryl swallows a gulp of his beer to ease his sudden bout of thirst, sometimes you mindlessly walk around like a wet dream of his and it was so fucking infuriating that others get to witness the absolute vision you are.
as if sensing his heated gaze, you break from the conversation to lock eyes with him before a smile spreads across your lips at his obvious desire.
he’d hope his eyes said enough that you’d come bounding back to him and sit back in his lap to sedate the growing fire in the pit of his stomach but you only send him a playful wink and turn back to the girls infront you.
you like the chase, he knows that.
and he plans to come join you, hoping his touch would rein you back in enough to make you follow him back home and fall into bed together except he doesn’t even get the chance to stand before another presence enters the small group.
rick holds a glass of water in one hand, the other brushing your elbow as it comes back in the middle of your fit of expression, his touch startles you for a second before you laugh at something he says and continue on with your story- entrancing the group once again.
daryl’d probably find himself stuck on you too if not for the fact that this is the first time he has seen rick touch you in some way. it clearly meant nothing but a form of protection from his stomach that you almost hit as he approached you from behind but it was also something new.
rick stands close to you, so close that you occasionally brush against him with the slightest drunken movements. even across the ways, daryl can sense the clear excitement that comes from the other man at the simplest touches.
there’s no hiding from his glaringly obvious stare but under the trance of your presence, rick doesn’t even acknowledge him, seemingly lost in whatever you contribute in conversation and attempting to bounce off it to keep your attention.
daryl only slouches further into his seat, his free hand coming to rest over his mouth, scratching at the scruff on his chin, finger swiping over his lips before resting it against his jaw as he watches you both from under his messy bangs. rick reaches out and places a hand on your lower back when you seem to laugh too hard- having thrown your head back enough to lose your balance slightly.
his hand lingers even when you steady yourself, settling it more firmly as if testing his luck and when you don’t pull away- he saddles up closer, if that’s even possible.
you seem the least bit concerned about any of it but to daryls trained eye, he’d caught the quick side-eye glance you’d given him as you shifted onto your feet, purposefully bumping your shoulder into ricks chest.
daryl can’t help but bite back an amused smirk that threatens to take over. he shifts in the lawn chair, spreading his knees wider once he catches your eyes back on him.
his stance screams insouciant; passive to your clear act of defiance and maybe that’s what gets you so hot- no matter how much you push it, daryl would never verbally break but physically..
he knew just how to show you who was still in charge.
so it’s almost too easy as you bid a quick farewell to those you previously seemed interested in conversating with but now, you dismiss yourself rather hastily before speedily rounding the fire to place yourself sideways in his lap.
“hi” you breathily mumble against his cheek as your arms wrap around his shoulders, pulling yourself as close to his warm body as possible.
“hi darlin’” daryls husky voice rumbled deep into his chest, one arm wrapping around your body- securing your placement across his legs. his large hand encompasses your bare thigh, revealed from the inches your dress has ridden up when you had fallen clumsily into him.
“missed you..” your whiney tone has daryl letting out a light-hearted scoffed laugh.
“been ‘ere tha whole time ya were flirtin’ ova there” he squeezes your thigh roughly before rubbing his thumb soothingly over the smooth surface.
“wasn’t flirting..” you pull back enough for him to take in your glazed over eyes and pouty lips, it takes everything in him not to pull you up and escape from this get together but..
“happy birthday!” it’s a celebration for you and maybe it isn’t quite appropriate to kidnap you and hide you away when the whole reason this is even happening is because of you. carol holds out another cocktail but daryl dodges it before your hands could make the grab for it.
“think she’s had ‘nough” your body has gone completely lax, damn near weightless in his arms. while you haven’t had a drink in your hand this whole time, he knows you’ve had to of taken sips from someone else’s drink or snuck in shots somewhere that are settling even more into your system as the time goes on.
“oooo, don’t be such a party pooper, pookie!” carols teasing words sends you in a fit of giggles and clearly pleased with the short interaction, she dismisses herself with a few more digs at him as she leans closer to you, “when you can get away from your guard dog, come find me”
you only share a sweet laugh with her as she walks away before turning to daryl with a mischievous smile; seemingly amused. he pulls you roughly into him, your body laying heavily against his chest as he presses a kiss onto your shoulder, mumbling the words, “be good” into it after.
you don’t respond to his words, instead you charmingly join into the conversation with the people sitting by- keen on staying close to daryl but still wanting to be involved with the party.
with his attention no longer focused on you, he can finally acknowledge the piercing stare that’s been on you both since you’ve come bounding into his lap. from over your shoulder, daryl peeks up at rick; who stands in the same spot as before, yet the conversation that surrounds him is ignored as he heatedly gazes in your direction.
daryl watches his eyes trail down your figure, until they land on the newly bare skin of your leg where his hand now resides over the bunched up fabric of your dress.
there’s a moment where he thinks of pulling it down, wondering just how he’ll react to him shielding you from his eyes but the urge to show you off is stronger and daryl finds himself raising the fabric just a tad higher.
at the motion, ricks eyes shoot up to meet his; wide eyed and fish mouthed at being caught- except the blazing fire in daryls eyes is everything but malice.
he knows what absolute vision you look like atop his lap; the light of the fire bouncing off your glistening skin, short white dress contrasting against your sun-kissed tan.
daryl can barely resist the urge to steal you away and devour you in every way that leaves you messy, so he can’t imagine just how much rick must be suffering from having to hold back his own desires.
if there is one thing about daryl; he’s a giving man and how could he leave his brother so obviously thirsty?
his hand bunches the fabric some more, rick quickly following the sudden movement with his eyes, prepared to get a glimmer of what could be-
except your hand shoots down over daryls, shooting him a questionable look at the odd behavior. he only nods his head in the direction of the other man who locks eyes with you the minute you catch them.
daryl leans forward near your ear, “got ya a fan, baby”
you elbow him playfully before sending a sweet reassuring smile to rick, “how long?”
“since ya left ‘im”
“hm..”
“hm?” daryl hums back questionably to which you respond with a careless shrug as you both stare down rick who holds your heated gazes.
for once, he remains unreadable to daryl but from the current act you both put on together and clear indifference on the matter well he isn’t exactly surprised when rick seemingly takes a whole new interest in all things you, questioning him constantly on minuscule details such as: where were you? how were you? were you adjusting to the new environment? how was the new job treating you?
until they weren’t so innocent anymore and the leader became more bold in his approach.
the only light came from a small lamp that casted a soft yellow hue over the living room space. a half bottle of whiskey sat on the coffee table between the two men’s bodies, one glass in both of their hands as they sipped on it occasionally in the midst of conversation.
daryl- always so good at handling his liquor felt a cool buzz under his skin while rick tried to keep up, only to realize a little too late that he’s reached his limit.
it was rare to get the chance to just sit and drink but after a week long supply trip- they both deserved it.
daryls body ached even after the hot shower he took with you, where you lathered his body in soap and pressed your fingers into his sore back. maybe it didn’t help that immediately after he fell into bed with you, indulging himself into every bit of you until he felt like he had his fill or atleast until you were given atleast three orgasms.
but how was he to deny you? looking at him as if he held the world in his hands, begging him to just touch you and grabbing his body in ways only you knew made his heart pulse.
and while you laid tiredlessly in the bed after your fit of passion, he slipped back upstairs to check in on the other people in the house- only to find everyone already prepared for bed, lights turned off except for the one spilling from the living room where only one person resided in.
still struggling to adjust to sleeping in a bed, in a house, in walls- well, daryl doesn’t mind sitting and chatting for a bit until exhaustion settles fully into his body and his mind will finally shut off so he can get a decent amount of rest.
the alcohol is only an added bonus to make him effortlessly slip into unconsciousness.
“she excited to see you? barely got a glimpse of her before she whisked you away” rick can remember easily how his chest ached when all you did was greet him with a quick half hug before gripping back onto daryl and dragging him off.
“mm..” daryl grunts, excited might be an understatement as you had practically vibrated in his arms when he first walked through the door and jumped onto him.
nevermind the care and attention you gave him in the shower and in bed. allowing him to just take what he needed while mewls of pleasure slipped from your lips, hands trying to grasp onto him as the euphoric feeling grew deep into your stomach, body shaking in pure ecstasy as you reached multiple highs.
“she’s a good one.. you’re lucky man”
“yuh.. she’s good” the words drip suggestively following his previous dirty thoughts.
“… yeah?” rick doesn’t look at him, simply taking another sip from his glass of whiskey but his words oozes a certain yearning for more about you.
daryl would never want to sit and talk about you in a such a way with just about anyone- but rick is his best friend, his confidante, his right-hand man, his brother.
if there was someone who he trusted with his life, it was the man to his left.
besides you, of course.
“mm.. cheeky as ‘ell but she’s sweet” it’s vague but rick gets it, you’re a firecracker. an absolute angel with a burning need to do right by anyone who has been wronged.
daryl loves that about you- equally as much as rick found it so.. enticing.
“givin’?” rick isn’t sure how far he can get away with his questions so he keeps them just as vague as daryls’ answers.
“loves it.. always so eager ta please, tha’ one” the reply slips from his lips easily, daryl finding himself slouching further into the couch as the alcohol settles into his veins, his buzz heightened by the topic of conversation to create a hungry heat that burns from within as he shifts to discreetly adjust himself.
blinded by his own building desire, he misses the way rick chews on his own lip, fists clenching as he resists the urge to adjust his own growing arousal.
the hum of fervor thrums throughout the dimly lit room, the warmth bubbles them in as if they are the only two people on earth with a sudden thirst to last them a lifetime.
“can imagine she fights you though” rick swallows the last gulp of whiskey in his glass, holding the cup in his lap- afraid if he makes one sudden move that it will break whatever safe haze that has casted over them.
“tries, she likes a bit of tossing ‘bout” daryls head falls to the back of the couch, eyes closing as he re-envisions his welcome home gift: you, who still lies warmly in his bed and now that he thinks about it, why did he leave?
“likes it rough then?” it’s a bolder question, yet- with the warm liquor settled into their stomachs, neither of them seem to bat an eye.
“needs it. leaves her putty in yer hands by tha end of it” an even bolder statement that fuels the everbuilding fire within them both, a sudden yearning to please the heat of it.
except only one of them will actually get the chance to quell that need while the other is left longing for a fill.
the silence between them lingers heavy in the air.
“i see tha way ya look at ‘er” the accusation has rick freezing, body thrumming with mild panic as he readies himself for the wrath of his friend’s anger but daryls head still rests against the couch, body completely laxed and only sinking further into the cushions, “dun’ mind, know ‘ts hard to not”
rick isn’t sure how to respond, if he is quite honest, he thought he hid it pretty well at first. the night of your birthday celebration was a mere fluke filled with nothing but alcohol and mock confidence. he had figured you guys had forgotten all about it.
“i-i’m not trying to start nothing, just yeah, lookin’ man.. wasn’t going to do nothing”
“ya want too though?”
“what?”
“she said ya had a crush on ‘er” daryl shrugs, “asked ‘er wha’ she thought ‘bout it n she jus’… got all red n shit. knew she wanted ya then”
“i-i..” rick is thrown for a loop, his drunken mind slow in catching up to every word that spills from his friends mouth.
“if ya know wha’ ya doin’.. ya can try” daryl now leans towards rick as if sharing a secret but his demeanor no longer holds such openness as he stares menacingly with waves of threat rolling off of him, “there ain’t no more rules but she always comes first- she tells ya no, ya back tha hell off”
at that, daryl pushes off the couch after setting his empty cup onto the coffee table. it’s as if a steam of smoke follows after him, a sudden need to cool off but instead of going outside for fresh air-
he’s slipping back into his room, his bleary eyes landing on your still figure illuminated shallowly by the moonlight. the dark sheets do little to cover your naked body as you lie with your back facing him; clearly having pulled it to cover your front but left the cool air to kiss the dip of your spine.
a tasteful sight.
one that daryl could never turn down as he quickly strips to his briefs before sliding his body right behind yours, the warmth you’ve accumulated in your sleep only lights the one that’s been burning within him for the past hour.
you whine softly as his broad body encompasses you, a heavy arm slipping around your waist to pull your hips firmly into his; practically morphing your body along his.
daryl nestles his face into the nape of your neck, pressing a wet kiss onto the smooth skin as he hums comfortly to your protested noise.
there’s a moment of silence, one where daryl thinks you’ve fallen back asleep and despite his previous desires, he too, could have lost himself to conciousness.
except your hips shift, pressing harder into him and with only thin layers between your bodies, the result is delicious. daryl releases a moan of appreciation at the spring of pleasure that the motion brought on.
his hand moves to your hip, gripping it tightly as you continuously roll back onto his cock that had been poking at you since he crawled into bed.
you’re quick to roll over, forcing him to lie on his back as you press your bare body ontop of his. fingers coming up to comb through the messy strands of hair, face hovering over his.
“haven’t you had enough?” you tease softly as your lips brush against his, pulling away slightly when he attempts to press them together.
“never get ‘nough of ya” his hands come to rest along your back, musing with the tangled sheets to get a feel of your soft skin.
“hm..” the heavy press of his fingers dancing over your spine has you arching your naked chest closer to his, “where’d you go?”
“rick..” the simple brushing of his hair and the warmth you emit above him nearly lulls him to sleep with his eyelashes fluttering as he attempts to grasp onto the conversation, “talkin’..”
“about?” you pull on his hair gently to gain his attention, the sting of it flushing him something hot.
“‘bout ya..” his eyes lid heavily with arousal as he looks up at you.
“me? what about me?” you shift your body more until your legs untangle from the sheets and you’re able to place them on either side of his body, knees pressing into the mattress more securely.
the alcohol must be wearing off as a flush of embarrassment settles uncomfortably in his chest when he thinks back to the way him and rick spoke about you.
the hesitancy in his response has you peppering kisses along his jawline and your hands traveling from his hair to his chest, nails dragging gently over his skin. the sensation sends a thrilling shiver through his body, eyes falling shut at the slight pampering you give him.
“tell me..” you press a kiss to the corner of his mouth before finally giving in, pressing a heated kiss onto his lips. daryls hands slip further down, caressing over your ass before gripping the back of your thighs until you bend your legs even more: fitting your core directly over his throbbing cock. the new position has you gasping, a reaction that allows him to slip his tongue into your mouth but before you could lose yourself further, you pull away to repeat your demand, “tell me”
“he was askin’ me questions..” you hum so he knows you’re listening as you roll your hips slowly over him; a motion that has him releasing a grunt before speaking breathily, “told ‘im- he could try”
“yeah?” you watch him bite his bottom lip, eyes rolling back as you continue your teasing ministrations.
“mhm.. so ya could stop buggin’ me ‘bout it” the corner of his mouth quirks up.
“shut up” one of your hands slide between your bodies, slipping inside his briefs and gripping his thobbing cock, “don’t seem to be complaining” he curses under his breath as his eyes open to immediately lock onto yours that glint with mischief, “ya want it as much as i do, hm?” his head tips back as your hand squeezes him- the angle is awkward to get a proper grip but your fingers circle around his swollen tip that oozes precum as you jerk him off clumsily, “say it”
it’s messy and he fucking loves it that way as he brokenly gasps, “i do”
“hm?” your nose bumps his chin before his head is tipping back down to meet your heated gaze.
“wanna see ya with ‘im” the heated arousal has dropped his voice even deeper, the rumbling of his chest vibrating with his desperate words: it’s true though. he’s a natural obeserver and the idea of you under rick? it makes him so unbelievably hot, something he struggled to understand but of course; with your loving, open heart and overtly helping hands- he was able to come to terms that it was okay to like what he liked.
“i know” your mocking tone has him flipping your bodies around with a playful growl into your shoulder that sends you in a fit of giggles when his scruff tickles at your bare skin.
••
daryl hadn’t expected things to move on so quickly after the fact, whereas rick seemingly jumped at the first chance before it was taken away.
where the leader was once wary of his affections, now went out of his way to touch you. even finding odd excuses to always have you near, whether that was out on a run because you were considered one of the fastest or simply following him on his daily route around the community because he wanted your opinion on the newest developments.
your job as a medical assistant did not require such but you went along anyway.
the progression of your situationship advanced quickly right under daryls nose, one moment he watched from afar as you and rick stuck close to one another- clearly fond to be in each other’s presences to then finding you guys in compromising positions.
he hadn’t suspected things had gotten that far, atleast, you never spoke about it but it became apparent it had when he stumbled across you both going at it hastily in the infirmary.
he had an early hunting expedition that made him miss your guys’ normal morning routine so he planned to surprise you by coming by your job for lunch.
arriving at the small house turned hospital, he stepped inside with muted movements. visually the place seemed void of anyone but aurally, there was light scrambling that came from further into the building.
he followed the quiet sounds, assuming you must be taking inventory or simply cleaning but that was far from the case as he passed a room with a cracked door where he saw you placed sat upon a bathroom countertop, dress pulled messily to your waist with rick stood between your legs, unbuckled belt and open jeans.
the initial shock passes through quickly before heat flushes into his body and he finds himself at a loss for breath. there’s a certain desperation in your movements, both you and rick gasping in relief that accompanied your rapid pace; a hunger that is finally being relieved.
ricks hands dig into the top of your thighs, scrunching up your already wrinkled dress as his hips move erratically and his face shoved into your neck as if it would hide the sounds his mouth releases. you respond with your own muted moans, arms wrapped tightly around the man’s shoulders in an attempt at holding onto the pleasure in some form.
it’s rushed, clearly meant for one thing- release.
daryl can tell this isn’t the first time you guys have met up and fell into one another. the level of intimacy isn’t shocking but rather welcomed; hurried but still gratified.
it’s hot, better than he could ever imagine.
he knows what it is like to be inside your warm walls, to be grappled at by your small hands and nails digging into his shoulders, to hear the many beautiful but broken gasps and moans you release so close to his ear- all of you, is so fucking delicious but this view.. this was a whole other level.
and rick, god- rick was rabid. just taking what he wanted without hesitation now that he was given the green light and he had no plans of wasting it as he opened your thighs more, pulling you closer to the edge and pushing himself harder into you.
daryl can feel his pants getting tighter but there’s a fear that if he moves, if even the slightest, you guys will stop and he’s not sure yet if he wants you guys to know he is watching. too lost in each other, his presence remains unknown and he rather likes it that way for now.
people change when they know they are being watched- the way you guys succumb to the burning need within, in pure desperation makes him flush hotly.
so he remains still, despite the aching urge to reach down and soothe his painfully throbbing cock. it’s not much longer when you both reach your highs; your head thrown back as one hand grips ricks bicep and the other caressing the back of his head, shoving his face deeper into your neck. he bites down on your collarbone to muffle his groans, one hand squeezing your thigh and his other arm wrapped around your lower back, pressing you into his last few lazy thrusts.
it becomes a thing, atleast for daryl.
both of you, too far gone to ever notice his lingering presence so yeah.. he continues to observe but it isn’t like he means to find you guys in such compromising positions everytime, it just happens.
like family movie nights where he found you guys going at it in an unlocked bathroom, or the supply closet of the pantry where you were meant to cover a fellow community members shift, even outside the walls where he hunts, against a tree until ricks legs give out and you’re both crumbling to the earths floor.
daryl found it enticing; simply watching and it was never meant to be some secret- you and rick- but you still kept it hidden from him. of course not intentionally, the first time was rushed, then the second was equally as sudden, and then soon, you had found yourselves doing it more and more until it felt like it was too late to tell.
at this point, daryl still found it unbelievably hot and soon, he couldn’t keep himself from asking about it.
your hips rolled heavily over his, only the thin layer of your soaked lace panties between you and his cock. you sat over him in just one of his shirts, his own briefs shoved hastily on the floor, leaving him completely naked.
he was meant to be sleeping, having an early wake up call time the following morning but having not seen you all day, well, it was hard not to resist you after you crawled into bed wearing his shirt but smelling like rick.
you gasp brokenly, chest falling into his at a sharp roll that had the head of his cock pressing right into your covered clit. your hands grip the side of his broad body, face next to his- it’s how he gets the huge whiff of aftershave that so particularly reminds him of the other man and he can’t help but think just what you guys did today and where?
“tell me” his words rumble inside his chest, thus vibrating against your own. the gravely sound so deeply demanding that you almost whimper in response.
“what?” your breathy question; a result from your overuse of exertion to find the perfect angle that will send you both over the edge.
“tell me what he did ta ya today” his eyes are closed, losing himself to the movements of your body against his but he can feel when you still completely above him.
“what?” you push yourself up, hair falling into your face as you look down at him in confusion, “who?”
“rick..” daryl doesn’t know why he suddenly feels embarrassed that he wants to know all about your secret rendezvous’ but it’s out and there was no going back now, “can smell ‘im on ya..”
it takes you a few seconds to gather yourself, shocked that he knows but also not- because of course he’d know. daryl was an incredible reader of people and even without catching physical evidence, in time, he probably would have found out either way. it was also never meant to be a secret, yet you feel a sudden guilt that you hid it from him so long even though you both wanted it.
“d.. i-i was going to tell you” your heart aches at the thought of hurting him, “i- we just got into it so fast and-“
“i know, i saw” your heart drops with your jaw but daryl keeps going even at your obvious shock, “‘n tha infirmary, at tha pantry..”
“d.. i’m sorr-“
“rick was.. ‘s like.. all animal, innit he?” you could not feel more confused in your life at his words that drip heavily with heat, “jus’.. takes wha’ he wants, doesn’t he?” you stop for a few moments to take in daryl, who shys away from your eye contact but once you catch a glimpse of what was once a soft powder blue, now darkened in a sharp sinful black- it clicked.
that, along with his ever pressing cock that has continued to throb under you.
“oh” you watch him flush down to his chest, the sight of him so aroused yet bashful is so sweet but you can’t help the amused smirk that slips on your lips before you begin to grind onto him again, “you are unbelievable, daryl dixon”
the pace of your motions have doubled and he can only nod numbly as his large hands grip your thighs roughly, chewing on his bottom lip to keep from coming prematurely. you can’t help but lean down to kiss him, pressing your lips harshly against his as if it will emit all the love you have for the man below you into it.
you had never seen him so.. submissive to anything- to anyone but seemingly just the idea of you and rick had him in a chokehold.
with a new fervor to get him off, you slip your panties to the side and allow him inside your warm body. the perfect pressure of your wet walls against his cock and the soft whispers in his ear of just exactly what rick does to you- it takes no time for his vision to blur as he comes the hardest he has in awhile.
with the knowledge that he watches known, he no longer finds himself seeking you out when you disappear, knowing later you’ll find him and spill every ounce of detail you could remember.
rick remained to himself, he now knew too that daryl used to lurk in the shadows and even that he liked to hear what they get up to when he catches you alone.
neither men spoke much about it, sticking to small talk when around one another but none of them held any malice on the matter; simply existing around you.
and god, you- you loved it. feeding off the energy of both men everytime they got you, desperate in their own as they devoured you everytime but the nonsexual moments were favorable too; following daryl on his hunting trips, making dinner together (realistically him just watching you), cuddling after a long day (you carelessly draped over his body) but the nature of these began to fade after a while.
daryl found himself alone most of the day, finding your presence absent until night falls and your crumbling into bed, fast asleep before he could tell you goodnight.
questioning you on your whereabouts wasn’t something daryl could ever see himself doing, you were an adult, independent and fully capable of taking care of yourself- that didn’t mean he couldn’t bully it out of others.
the resulting answer falling to one culprit: rick.
the leader having you do aimless tasks with him, following him around the community, taking you on runs- anything that required you to be right next to him.
daryl didn’t feel an inkling of anything.. until you showed up with a hickey on your neck. that, is when he began to become frustrated with ricks clingy behavior.
he didn’t mind sharing you, truthfully it didn’t feel so much like that, he could see the equal love you had for both of them and he cares for rick the same way he cared for you; it was no competition, they were both lucky to be with you.
but this felt.. isolating.
something he has felt many times before and even unintentional, it still hurt- which only pissed him off more because he was shit at handling his feelings.
so he backed off, finding himself outside the walls more, avoiding rick, avoiding you. it was the hardest thing he has had to do but if was going to lose you either way, he’d rather chose the option of leaving first, hoping it will hurt less when you confront him.
except you don’t, you never plan too and although he is the master of reading people- he seemed to have forgotten just how well you had learned to read him after years together.
the distance he puts between you all is his safety net for the pain he awaits.
you know that and it’s something you bring up to rick. it takes little convincing to get him to agree to your plan, knowing that it will take what you guys have to a new level but daryl needed this, he needed to know that he was still wanted.
you laid propped up by the pillows in bed, dressed in another one of his shirts and lace panties again. nothing riled him up more than the simplicity of you in his clothes. having snuck in the room after he went into the shower, you waited, listening to the soft sounds of the water flowing and shuffling of his movements.
with the water shut off, you grew anxious as he took his time drying off but it was only a couple seconds later he was stepping out the bathroom, steam pouring from the room to cloud around him.
he froze upon seeing your figure on the bed, giving you enough time to take in his still glistening naked body covered in just a towel.
swallowing the lump in your throat, you sat up to your knees before settling back on your haunches, nails digging into your thighs in anticipation, “hi”
a look of confusion crosses his face as he looks at you, “wha’s goin’ on?”
it pains you to see him so bewildered by your presence in your own home, in your guys’ bed- you stand and grab his hand, leading him to sit on the edge while you stand between his legs.
he keeps his hands in his lap as yours run through his wet hair, brushing through the tangles to the best of your ability before a particularly hard tug as his head falling back, eyes meeting yours.
“you’ve been avoiding me..” the dejected tone lingers heavy in your words, his hands immediately coming to rest over the back of your thighs soothingly. his eyebrows furrowing at the mere sound of you in any form of pain, “it’s okay. know you were just hurt” daryl doesn’t bother denying the sentiment, choosing instead to keep himself occupied with the hem of your (read: his) shirt until your next words spill from your lips, “but.. we wanted to make it up to you”
his head snaps up to you, eyes shifting around your face before moving to the door, where rick has appeared leaning against the frame. your head turns, smiling brightly at the other man and holding out a hand in his direction.
you spin around, pressing back into daryl but giddily waiting for rick to meet you guys. the idea of having them both here- together, it was nerve racking but so very exciting too.
you reach a hand back to grab daryls, squeezing in question, you’d never want to make him uncomfortable. he squeezes back, his other hand wrapping around your thigh and pulling you further into his body until you collapse into his lap- just in time for rick to reach you both.
he stands fully clothed infront of both of you, looking down as you both gazed up at him, stance reeking nothing short of leadership.
rick reaches a hand out, cupping your chin roughly, “did you apologize?” you still in daryls lap at the question, shaking your head in response to which rick tsks at, “use your words”
“no, i haven’t apologized.. sir”
it wasn’t like you weren’t submissive to daryl, but it normally took you a little bit to get to this point- clearly it was not the same for the leader who knows just how to handle people.
rick motions at daryl, stepping back so you could stand and kneel before him. once settled, you look up at him with a dazed expression, lost in a haze of premature pleasure, “i’m sorry..”
“for?” rick growls as he grips your hair, pulling your head back some and the delicious sting it brings has you dropping your jaw in a quiet gasp.
“f-for making you feel alone” rick looks to the other man, waiting for confirmation that all is forgiven but all daryl can do is nod numbly to your watery words. seeing you so out of it, so- wanton, thisclose- was new and while he knows your sex life was amazing, this was something else as his heart beats heavily in his ears.
“good girl” you whimper at ricks praise, his hand soothing over your scalp for a second before he squats to your level. lips near your ear as he forces your head to look at daryl, both of you taking in the heavy lifting of his flushed chest, “now, why don’t you show him how sorry you are?”
your eyes plead with daryl, desperate to make it right and when has he ever denied you?
your hands fly up to rip the towel off, revealing his swollen cock that has been throbbing painfully since he first saw you. you squeeze your thighs together at the sight of his mushroomed head that’s nearly purple and the pulsing decorative blue vein down his shaft.
rick has since moved to stand back against the wall, watching as you lean forward to take daryl into your mouth, “know you can take more than that”
daryl grips the edge of the bed, back slouching as your sweet mouth encompasses his cock even more. he can’t help the throaty groan he releases as you hum happily around him.
“fuck baby” he prides himself as an observer but with the heated gaze of rick on you both, he can’t say he doesn’t enjoy the attention a little bit. your head bops faster as you wet his cock more, drooling messily over him and helping make your movements more seamless. your hand drops to roll his balls with your fingers, the heaviness of them makes you wetter, knowing he was so turned on and ready to burst at any moment. it only encourages you further, slowing the bopping of your head to allow your tongue to swirl all over his cock, hollowing your cheeks around his dribbling head, “‘m gonn’ come, fuck” with your hand wrapping back around the length you can’t fit it your mouth, it takes no time for his hips to jerk, cock twitching roughly in your mouth as his cum slips easily down your throat. one hand finds it’s way onto the back of your head, holding you close as curses fall repeatedly from his mouth.
when he releases you, you gasp for air upon lifting from his cock, chest heaving heavily as you sit back and gaze up at him with glassy eyes, a mix of spit and cum on your chin that he swipes away with his thumb before pressing it onto your tongue. your lips wrap around the digit, tongue swirling and cheeks sucking it in more. he shakes his head at your ministrations, “never ‘nough fo’ ya, hm? always need somethin’ in yer mouth”
“she’s greedy” rick pipes up as he approaches you both again.
you release daryls finger, a pout heavy on your lips as you look up at rick, “am not”
both of them can’t help but smile at your indignant tone, making quick eye contact in silent conversation as rick pulls you up from the floor and daryl shuffles back up the bed.
“know you’re not, just like teasing you” rick brushes some hair out of your face, feet moving forward until your pressing into the bed and crawling your way to lay with your back to daryls chest.
“not very nice sir” you fiddle with daryls fingers, lying heavily against him as you face the other man.
“it’s not, is it?” ricks teasing tone makes you frown until he too, climbs onto the bed, making to grab your feet and sending you into a fit of giggles at the playful act, “how should i make it up to you?” your eyebrows raise at the question, knees knocking together bashfully until rick is gripping your ankles and pulling your legs down, “don’t hide now, angel” you blush beautifully, squirming against daryl as rick places himself between your thighs, “this where you want me?”
you smile coyly before bringing daryls hand to your mouth, nibbling on his knuckles to quell some of your growing excitement. rick doesn’t press for a verbal answer, impatient himself on getting his mouth on you- something he hasn’t done yet.
rick wraps an arm around one your thighs, his beard skimming lightly over the smooth surface. the ticklish sensation causing your leg to twitch, threatening to close.
“here-“ daryl reaches down, grabbing one of your thighs and holding it open, “sensitive lil’ thing.. gonn’ try suffocating ya the minute ya get yer mouth on ‘er”
“not a bad way to go” rick shares a smirk with him before pressing light kisses all around your aching cunt, teasing you until you release an impatient whine at his games.
he doesn’t reprimand you, he too, losing patience as he pulls your panties to the side; slick sticking to the lace and causing all three of you to release some noise of wanton.
not wasting anymore time, rick swipes his tongue from your dripping hole to your swollen clit. you release a gasp at the simple movement, thighs threatening to close but held down tightly by both men. he makes for the motion again, your hips bucking when his mouth separates.
it takes a few minutes for rick to build a proper rhythm but with the help of daryl who reads your body like a manual to him- you’re squirming against his mouth; wanting to both run and get closer to the overwhelming pleasure.
“that’s enough” rick pulls back to slap at your thigh, making you squeal at the sudden sting but you don’t think of it much more when he dives back into your cunt.
daryl presses a kiss to the side of your head, the hand not holding tightly to your thigh rubs at your side soothingly for a brief moment.
“rick- ah- daryl-“ it’s hard to form a coherent thought when rick eats you out so well, dipping his tongue into your hole and sucking on your clit, “i’m.. please, i’m so close” you let out a cry of pleasure, sandwiched between your two favorite people.
“tha’s it, sweethear’” daryl coos into your ear, hand lifting your shirt and exposing your bare chest to them; nipples hardening at the cool air. his calloused hand brushes over both of them, the rough texture sending a delicious sensation through your body as you arch your back, hips twitching roughly against ricks mouth, “let ‘im have it”
ricks nose presses heavily into your clit as his tongue messily moves in and out of your pulsating hole, his fingers dig into the meaty parts of your thighs, fighting the urge to reach down and touch himself, doubling down on his efforts to make you come.
the combined forces of their touches had your head spinning, vision incapacitated by colors as you lost control of your breathing. it was all so much, yet not enough and you fought to stay current but lost to the everbuilding pressure in your core. your hands flailed out, searching for something to hold onto as you found yourself nearing your high; daryl grabbed one hand and placed your other on ricks.
“‘s ok.. let go baby” your thighs shake in both mens grip, body thrumming with pure pleasure and a little bit of pain as you attempt to hold off your orgasm; wanting to make this last as long as possible, “we’ve got ya.. jus’ let go fo’ me. see rick, hm? worked so hard, didn’t he? he wants ‘t”
the soft crooning of daryls voice has you finally gasping for air and allowing the flood of euphoria to fill you up before bursting at the seams; your hips shove your soaking cunt closer to rick, thigh ripping from daryls grip to squeeze around the mans’ head that still lies between your legs.
tears stream down your face as you sob, momentarily blurring your vision even more. you brokenly speak nonsense full of their names and gratitude as your hearing deafens; a high pitched ringing resounding loudly through them.
as it dies down, you can hear the soft praises from daryl lift through the piercing sound as his hands squeeze your body; helping you back to earth in a gentle manner. it takes a few moments for you to gather some kind of bearings, wincing in oversensitivity as rick laps at the mess you made. your thigh falls open heavily, letting rick release you but the urge to squeeze them together again is strong as you take in his face; mustache and beard glistening in your slick.
you whimper at the sight and the inability to fully grasp onto reality, your high having left your body heavy and limp.
“sh sh sh” rick hushes you as he sits up, wiping his facial hair as he takes in your current state; clearly pleased to know just how much of a mess he has made of you. his hands move to caress your thigh in admiration but you jerk at the touch, body high on sensitivity.
daryl laughs softly, “nearly ruined our girl”
rick shares an equally fond scoff at the accusation, hands now massaging the exhausted muscles as you blink slowly at him. with the last bit of your orgasm ghosting by, being wrapped in daryls strong arms and the light pressure of ricks fingers over your thighs- you found yourself tired, relaxing your body entirely as you enjoyed the pampering.
the moment remains quiet and with your eyes closed, the soft breathing and light shuffling is the only thing to grace your ears; the perfect white noise to fall asleep too.
“would never have the heart to take her away from you” rick looks up from your legs to daryl; wanting to make sure he knows that it was never his intention.
“i know” and he does, the realization hit him as he directed rick earlier- he was just getting to know you; more so than before. learning all about your many quirks, interests, and desires.
the same way daryl once did.
••
a wave of déjà vu hits him as daryl sits in another lawn chair, surrounded by the community that have come together in another celebration. he can’t be sure who it’s for nor does he really care to find out as of now his attention has been zeroed on your form since you’ve left his side.
you had said something along the lines of getting another drink but the absence of your presence grew past it’s expiration and it was only a matter of time before he was planning on sending a search party out when his eyes fell on your figure.
leaning against a table with a glass in hand, everything would’ve seemed normal, had it not been for the pressing force in the form of a man that stood too close for comfort.
you didn’t seem to mind, illuminating in the afterglow of the man’s compliments and while you offered nothing but your fair share of pleasantries, daryl would have rather you told him to fuck off.
the minutes feel like they stretch for hours as he watches on to the scene, he says something- you laugh. he gloats- you speak. he answers- you laugh again. it’s uselessly repeative and even from daryls spot, it seems rather exhausting even when he can’t hear exactly what the man is saying but surely it can’t be that amusing.
from his relaxed spot among the lawn chair, he catches your eyes for a quick moment before your focusing back on the man. suddenly, your gestures become more exaggerated; your laughter is louder, your eye contact more prominent, and voice sweeter than honey.
it’s pure bait and boy, does the man fall right into it. his demeanor sharpening to solid confidence that damns him immediately as he reaches out to touch you- daryl is seconds from bolting from his seat to prevent such contact from happening but he doesn’t even get the chance too when rick appears out of no where, slipping between the pair and with a solid grip on your bicep- forceing you away from the stunned man who attempts to say something but rick shuts him down with a simple glare. it’s hard not to be pleased by the other mans possessiveness as he storms both of you in his direction, damn near tossing you into daryls lap before saddling in the empty seat next to him.
“rude” you pout and cross your arms defiantly, squirming to get comfortable.
“quite a show ya put on ova there” daryl teasingly says before possessively pulling your body closer to his and despite your bratty behavior, you don’t put up a single fight as you melt into his chest.
“she’ll pay for it later” rick voices from his seat as his leg bounces in mild irritation.
daryl takes it in silently amused, both at your attitude and ricks jealousy; and while your mood was nothing but a bit, annoyance rolled off the mans shoulders.
while daryl holds no qualms to your schemes, he knows rick has yet to learn that your favorite game is cat and mouse but with time, he’ll get it.
after all, he is still getting used to you.
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Text
Welcome to Steaming System Takes!
This blog was inspired by @/pipinghot-systemtakes. However, we are not associated with that blog in any way. We made this blog to combat the lack of proper structure pipinghot-systemtakes has in terms of sorting through harmful submissions, and offer this community a place to share their hot takes without having to worry about coming across harmful messages and/or misinformation.
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What do we consider to be harmful?
To us, harmful submissions include submissions that promote non-traumagenic systems, have paranoia inducing messages and wording, and anything that contains any form of misinformation. This definition of the word "harmful" is rather broad, and we will be paying close attention to what each submission says to ensure nothing slips through the cracks. If need be, we have people outside of our system we can reach out to for second opinions.
Will we be accepting other mods in the future?
Yes, we will! If this blog gets to a point where we're receiving more asks than we can handle, we will open up mod applications to make sure we don't slip up and let something through that should not be posted.
Will we be posting submissions that we don't agree with?
For the most part, yes. The only exception to this is, once again, anything that's genuinely harmful or contains misinformation. We will not be sharing any of our personal opinions of any syscourse topic on this blog, only pin-boarding other people's opinions anonymously. This blog is meant for others to have a safe space to share their thoughts, not for us to share our own. In addition to that, we believe that most syscourse topics should have all sides shared to ensure that anyone looking into the issue can make a properly informed opinion on it. Above all else, that is our goal.
Something to note: If a submission is worded in a way that we can't understand, we won't post it just to be safe. If you notice that your hot take isn't being posted after a little while, feel free to submit it again with different wording!
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Who can interact with our blog?
Despite us not sharing our opinions on this blog, we do have a DNI list. This includes endogenics/willowgenics/tulpas and their supporters, transID and radqueers, and anyone who claims RAMCOA isn't real.
We accept anyone with any disorder here. This blog is NPD, BPD, schizophrenic, psychosis, and mood disorder friendly. Anyone who villainizes these disorders is NOT welcome here.
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Meet our current mods!
Since this blog is currently only being run by one system, our mod team consists of a few of our current/frequent fronters.
Mod Z - Also known as: Zack
Zack Foster introject, He/It pronouns, tag signoff: "mod z"
Zack will likely be the most active mod.
Mod Green - Also known as: Lloyd
Lloyd Garmadon introject, He/Leaf pronouns, tag signoff: "mod green"
Mod Dori - Also known as: Yuji
Yuji Itadori introject, He/Him + neopronouns, tag signoff: "mod dori"
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Anon tags: 🥩 anon, 🐇🐇 anon, 🖥️ 💥 anon
Interested in getting to know us? Our main blog is @jabberwock-islanders!
(Divider used was made by @/bxd-decisions)
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lexa-griffins · 2 months
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Oh let's goooo! What could it be for horny hour? (welcome back btw) how about... they're staying at a cabin with all of their friends for a weekend, there's only one room that they designated for a very pregnant Octavia. Clarke and Lexa ate very very horny, but Clarke really really really isn't into exhibitionism, freaks her out, she values her privacy. So Lexa has to find a way that works for them both 🙂‍↕️😏 (let me know if you want more specifics🫡)
Lexa should have known she wouldn't be fine from the start. She dislikes sharing a space with too many people for too long, much less a small living room for two nights with Clarke's friends.
But Clarke had seemed so excited, "One last vacation with everyone before Octavia pops out the baby!" that Lexa could simply not say no.
Now, looking at the cramped space of the living room with all the sleeping bags and at Clarke's water board shorts and bikini top, both her and the wetness between her thighs are regretting every decision. She'd steal Clarke for a quickie on the bedroom if Octavia didnt spend more time napping than with the gang and to be fair, Lexa is not about to fuck on a pregnant lady's bed.
Of course, Clarke is far from stupid and if the way Lexa keeps on touching her arm and back are any indication, her girlfriend is capital H horny.
A chase makeout session here and there that has everyone yell at them to stop being gross, a quick handjob in the bathroom, quickly eating Lexa out in the shower, that's really the most they can do but it doesn't seem to really scratch the itch as Lexa is all but humping her leg at this point.
If Lexa is already usually snappy at their friends, you can be certain she is one second away from bitting someone's head off with how horny she is.
The first night is torture. Despite bringing their own air mattress, the thing is awfully uncomfortable and after pushing her ass agaisnt Clarke's crotch several times and being - very gently admittedly - rejected after being told there is no way she is fucking her with 5 of their friends sleeping right next to them, Lexa is on the edge of murder.
"Shit we're out of beer. Someone needs to go into town!" Anya’s yell is what makes every lightbulb in Lexa's mind go off.
They took Clarke's old van up here, an eyesore Lexa had complained many times about but has never been more glad for than today. She is fast to volunteer herself and Clarke for the task, something that takes a four beers drink in Clarke by surprise but she cant complain before Lexa is grabbing the keys and throwing Clarke in the passenger's sit.
"We're not going to get the beer are we?" Clarke asks some ten minutes into the ride. Lexa takes a turn somewhere, making sure the van is parked somewhere safe and hidden.
"We will." She turns the van off, "But first, i need your cock inside of me so fucking bad."
Somehow, they manage to hang on long enough to make it to the backseat. Clarke's tipsy ass had a massive grin on her face the moment Lexa gets naked.
Lexa laughs, "What are you smiling so much at?"
Clarke's eye shine, "I really like seeing you naked."
Yeah, if Lexa wasn't ready to jump her before, she is now.
Turns out the back of the van is far more comfortable than the stupid air mattress. At least that's Lexa's humble opinion as Clarke drills her dick inside of her.
"Fuck fuck fuck, Clarke go deeper."
Clarke pauses for a second, "You have 8 inches inside, you want more?!"
"Oh shut up and fuck me!" Lexa laughs as she pulls her girlfriend in for a kiss.
Clarke is close, she can tell, "Keep going, love, fill me up, please!"
Clarke's eyes seem to shine in an unusual way at that but she obeys, filling Lexa with her cum.
They stand there for a moment, enjoying their moment alone, Clarke's face is buried in Lexa's shoulder and long fingers trace her back.
Suddenly a couple of tears fall on Lexa's shoulders.
"Love?" Lexa asks softly.
Clarke lifts her head, eyes filled with tears but a smile on her face.
"What's wrong?" Lexa tucks a strand of blonde hair behind Clarke's ear, cleaning up a tear with her thumb.
"Do you think next year we'll get the bedroom?" Clarke asks.
"The... bedroom?" Lexa wrecks her brain trying to understand what Clarke means.
"Yeah." It's the only answer she gets.
It finally clicks and Lexa smiles. She pulls Clarke down for a kiss, her heart fluttering. Clarke kisses her back, excited.
With their foreheads touching, Lexa stares at Clarke in the eye, "Get me pregnant before you rpopose to me Clarke Griffin and your head will be the only thing to enter that bedroom."
Lexa kisses Clarke's pouty face as an apology and Clarke accepts it.
They are paying for the beer when Raven calls them asking them how long dod they fuck for that it took them nearly 3 hours to take what should have been a 40 minute drive to and from town.
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mrsbsmooth · 5 months
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I don't know if this is a safe space for me to share my opinion on S8 but I disagree with your take on WLW relationships in S8. As someone who is exclusively WLW, I've got to say that Season 8 is the worst season that I have ever played. It's not worth it. I regret every second that I have spent on it. I wish I never played it. I feel like I have wasted my time. Watching Claudia grind on Theo made me feel physically sick. If you're bi, you're automatically locked out of the WLW route and Bea dances for Claudia instead. If you're doing a WLW route, the two female LIs are merged together. There are only two female LIs and they're hidden behind a gem wall. You can't couple up with them until the final week. The male characters are forced on MC no matter how many times you reject them. Being LGBT is treated like a fun side mission. It's something you're only allowed to do behind closed doors. You can pay to make out with a girl in every episode and the other characters will keep pushing the OG guy and CA guy on you either way. If you're romancing a girl, you're made to feel like a cheater. The WLW routes in S8 are written to be a bonus thing for bi women to do once they finish the good routes. They are not written to be the main course. The S8 WLW routes  are something to play around with but not something to commit to. S5 was no fun but at least we could be in an unofficial relationship with Dana and we could choose to befriend Alfie. We could couple up with Vicky in S7. S8 is like S6 but somehow even worse. The openly homophobic and racist comments that I have seen some straight players make about Bea and Hari are only making it harder to feel accepted. What hurts the most is that MC was a bombshell and she was not coupled up with her OG LI before the Casa. They could have let us pick a female LI the moment MC walked into the Villa. There was no better way to justify a WLW main route. The way they waste Luna and Felicity is unbelievable. I wouldn't recommend S8 to anyone who isn't super into the male LIs
Hi lovely, of course!! Always happy to hear a different opinion as long as they're respectfully put, which yours absolutely is, and as long as you don't mind me disagreeing back!
[Note: Sarah's just pointed out to me that you asked for a safe space and my response doesn't really do that and just disagrees with you. She's right, and I apologise for not being clearer about the fact I was planning to do so when I hit post. But you are always welcome to share your opinion here. I can't guarantee a safe space, but I can guarantee an open mind.] Because I do genuinely believe that the WLW routes in S8 are better than they have been previously.
I'm not going to be addressing homophobic and racist comments about Bea and Hari. My advice for those? Stay the hell off Reddit. I'm not getting into the way this fandom talks about race, especially for Asian islanders. I just want to talk about the WLW routes as that was the main point of your ask.
I want to make sure I've acknowledged and responded to everything you said, so please see below.
[This got long AF. TL;DR at the end.]
Locked out of routes, and Male LIs being forced on you
This isn't new to this season, and in my opinion it's been done dramatically better than previous seasons. I've played all of them, and almost every single season holds the female LI back until the end. Marisol, Elisa, Najuma, Angie, Dana, Lulu, Bella, Chloe, Flo, Bonnie, I don't think you could couple up with a single one of them until the final recoupling. The only exceptions were S1 and S3, I think? I believe you could get with Talia slightly earlier (and have Sammi come in later as a LI for the guy who otherwise would be dumped), and AJ/Yasmin you could couple up with and make Tai and Ciaran get together. But that's only 2 seasons from 8.
(Note: I see you said you could couple up with Vicky in S7, and I'll be honest, I barely played S7 as I found the writing itself extremely lacklustre. So I'll have to take your word for it that they somehow made that work.)
I get that it's frustrating to be separated from a female LI until late game. It's a sentiment I've heard every single season since I started playing alongside the releases. But realistically, this is how the game is structured. Love Island, as a premise, is based on heterosexual relationships. Pairing off and being in heterosexual couples, etc. Same as something like 'the Bachelor'. Two female contestants could be together, sure. But that's not how the show is structured. The only real solutions have been in S1 and S3, both of which I've already mentioned. I'd love to see more MLM couples made canon, or creative ways of letting us couple with women earlier, but I don't think there's one simple solution. This particular show is aimed at het couples. As unfair as it may seem, that's how the game is structured. (Crossing my fingers for canon MLM couples. PLEASE!)
I also disagree that WLW routes are written to be a bonus thing for bi women to do once they finish the good routes. Claudia's route has been a main route since day one in the villa. The fact that you can only have a relationship with either Theo OR Claudia means they intended from the very beginning to have whichever one of that couple you choose be the slow burn route- the route that you can't get on until the very end.
To say that 'Watching Claudia grind on Theo made me physically sick'-- Congratulations and welcome to the slowburn route 😂 I feel exactly the same way when Theo REJECTS ME OUTRIGHT and says he's only interested in Claudia, or when Suresh's heartrate gets raised the most by Lulu, or when I finally couple with Jake and he tells me I should pursue Levi. Don't you think the fact that it's had such an impact on you shows how well-written she is as a female LI? Claudia is AMAZING. But she's also bisexual. She's allowed to be torn between a male and a female LI and want to explore relationships with both, and I don't think it's fair to be angry that she's playing out all her options. That just means she's a well-written bisexual character. (Side note may I remind you that you've been able to take Claudia to the hideaway, and sleep in a bed with her, whereas Theo girls were only able to KISS the dude for the first time within the last week!!!! 😭) I think the only canonical lesbian routes are Angie from S4 and A.J. from S3. But even so, they're both questioning while in-villa and only come out either towards the end or in the post-season. You can watch AJ's route on Youtube if you didn't get a chance to play. Also, you're not locked out of the WLW route if you're bi/into men. Only if you're interested in Theo specifically. This is definitely somewhere they could improve-- I wanted Theo and Claudia, but eventually went back to play a straight route for Theo. However, I DESPERATELY wanted to flirt with Bea. It would've been wonderful if we'd been able to flirt with her separately. (I think I did get this option, but I believe it may have been a glitch). An option early in the game when the female LI asks you could be:
Yes, I'm into you!
No, I'm not into you, but I might be into other women
No, I'm not into women.
The Female LIs are merging together
Welcome to Love Island the Game by Fusebox games, where all the love interests merge and the personalities don't matter. You're not alone here, and it's not NEARLY as bad as previous seasons. Watch Najuma, Bruno, and JAMES have exactly the same dialogue in S4 despite being wildly different personalities. Watch Lewie, Jamal and Ryan be completely interchangeable. This isn't exclusive to WLW routes.
The female LIs are hidden behind a gem wall.
Again, this is the same for everyone, even players on a straight route. FB are greedy.
Being LGBT is treated like a side mission
It's something you're only allowed to do behind closed doors. You can pay to make out with a girl in every episode
This is hard. I get why you feel like this, anon, I really do. But I genuinely do think that this is the devs trying to give you something. They know it's frustrating to have to wait so long to couple with a female LI, so they try and give you bonus opportunities along the way to connect with your love interest. Almost every single smut scene written in the scripts has a female alternative. Again, I'm not saying that it's perfect, but having looked at and manipulated the scripts for four seasons now, I can absolutely assure you that this has not always been the case. They ARE improving and giving you more opportunities to spend time with your female LI than you had in previous seasons.
TL;DR
I'm not saying S8 is a perfect season for WLW routes.
The part I'm disagreeing with is where you said it's the worst season.
I absolutely disagree with that. There are far worse seasons. Even the golden child Season 2 didn't let you couple up with a woman until right at the end, watching her graft and grind on everyone BUT you. We also don't even know for sure that we can't couple up with a girl until the last week. The game's still being released. (I won't be surprised if that's the case though.)
I think Claudia and Bea are EXCELLENT female love interests in comparison with what we've had previously. They're both beautiful, they have unique personalities, they have very different routes (Claudia's confused between you and Theo, Bea's your bestie to lover and she's got terrible taste in men, dear god please save her).
I understand WANTING more WLW routes, but from a development point of view, there are simply not enough opportunities in the real-life structure of LITG to have fully blown out WLW routes. And even if they were, FB Games are not going to be financially motivated to do so. Their main customer base ($$$) is pursing a het route, so that’s who they’re creating for. They can't even get through the hetero routes without the characters merging personalities. There are other games doing this well, including fan-made games, which I'd recommend checking out. I don't have the link handy to the game pages, but check out @thatwheelchairchick, I believe she's working on an alternative game?
Anyway, I hope that clarifies my position on why I think they're worth playing. Sorry that it turned into an essay.
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legacygirlingreen · 4 months
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A New Era…
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See what I did there… because it’s the eras tour… and the start of a new era for me fandom wise… I’ll let myself out 😭
Hi friends,
I know it’s definitely been a while since we had a little fireside chat of sorts. I never wanted to be that person who posted this big long rant with nasty call outs or annoyed remarks. But, I have to be honest. I am really, really growing to find writing for Hogwarts Legacy to be a chore. It used to come by so naturally and I’ve lost a lot of the enjoyment due to fandom fighting, the lack of a real update with the recent announcements and just some honestly, nasty anon asks I’ve received over the last few weeks.
I have a lot going on in my personal life right now and with that, it’s caused this fandom to feel more like a burden than an escape. I have surgery coming up and it just doesn’t feel like the supportive, loving, atmosphere it once did in so many ways… So for a while I think I’m going to shift gears until I find the energy to return to my works.
Having been on tumblr for a long time, I’m sick of starting over with every shift in fandom interest so I have decided to leave this tumblr, add to it and let it be a hybrid of my interests. I will return to working on my HL content, I just don’t have a set date for it.
To those who will likely depart this blog due to this announcement, thank you for the support. I hope life treats you well. To those willing to jump to a side project I’ve been working on, I’m excited to bring you all along. And to those who may soon find this blog from other spaces, welcome.
I just really need a break from what I’ve been doing and I’ve found inspiration elsewhere in the meantime.
Thank you all for being understanding and know that I have truly enjoyed the ride with this blog so far and hope to continue to do so as I post a project that I’ve been inspired by the finale season of the Bad Batch to write. I won’t give way too much, but I’ve got 50k words on my hard drive so far and I’m still going for our favorite mechanical engineer, pilot, riot racing, definitely not dead in my delulu: Tech
(If anyone actually is interested in a teaser I would love to share)
Once again, I hope this can be a discourse. Let me know your thoughts, opinions, etc. if you are willing to give other content a try and aren’t so familiar with the animated side of Star Wars I will gladly send you a guide I made for my best friend to aid. She has no knowledge of the animated series, and as someone who went to film school purely for my love of the clone wars, this return to the universe in many ways has felt like coming home. It’s where I have always felt the most safe. It’s where I always felt the most inspired. I am just overall so thankful to have found joy in writing once again as I feel like I lost it for a while there.
I am sorry if I have disappointed anyone, I just really need a break from HL creating until I sort out my life. I’ll still lurk on my lovely mutuals since I do love you all so dearly. @eternalremorse @writing-intheundercroft to name a few. I also owe this wonderful fandom for my best friend in the whole world. It’s a love of mine, right now I think we would be better on a break… if that makes sense…
That being said, I am so, so, SO thankful for the last year (plus a few months but who’s counting) with you all. I really do look forward to eventually coming back. Right now, I just would love to explore other avenues while I’m feeling so drained.
That’s all for now but I hope to post new content soon,
- M 💚
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PS : to anyone who’s found this under TBB tags… I’m a bit nervous to dive back in to the Star Wars realm since I deleted all my old ST fics but I’m ready to try again…
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frannyzooey · 11 months
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I just have to say, I love the way you interact with people online! Not only do you lift up other writers, but you're also so kind with the people who share their different perspectives on your fics. Even when someones ideas about your stories differ from the direction you've chosen to take, you still give kind responses that allow for conversation and creativity. It's really changed the way I think about fanfiction and writing in general. I've often felt so intimidated by fandom space, but you make this site such a warm and friendly place. Thank you for that! ❤️
Nonnie, I just wanna tell you how much this made my day 🥰
Fandom space is intimidating, isn't it?
Especially this space lately -- the rapid movement of the dash, the constant uploading of fic, the opinioned posts that make you believe everyone feels a certain way (they don't), the hot takes that make you feel judged before you've even participated. It's a lot.
It really can be super intimidating, like trying to coax yourself to jump into a fast moving river at the most volatile point -- but it doesn't have to be like that. ❤
Fandom can be such a safe, supportive place. It can be a place where you make your best friends, and discover skills you didn't know you had, and find a new sense of self worth. It can be a place where you can be yourself, when so many places in our daily lives are not safe for that. It can be a comforting space, a fun space, an exciting space to share your interests with others just as passionate as you are and THAT is what I strive for.
If I write something and toss it out into this universe, who am I to dictate how others interpret it? I have no control over that, and tbh, I love seeing their different takes because it helps me 1) think of the story from a different perspective and fall in love with it that way, but it also 2) helps me see areas in which I could focus on in future writing: perhaps maybe a concept that was important to me didn't come through, or something I thought was clear but the majority of the readers didn't grasp, etc.
My ONLY goal is to encourage others to create - whatever form that takes, no matter the subject or trope, no matter if I care for it or not. Someone encouraged me three years ago to create and it literally changed my life - honest to god, it took on a whole trajectory that I would have never even known was possible - all because they welcomed me into this place with open arms and an open mind. The only way I can think to repay such an enormous gift is to make others feel the same way ❤
Welcome! To know that seeing anything I have done on here has made you feel safe makes me very happy and I hope you continue to have fun! Come into my asks or DMs and say hello any time! ❤
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batrachised · 1 year
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Hi! I'm so excited that there's a Blue Castle book club happening, it's one of my favorite L. M. Montgomery books and also one of my favorite books of all time and seeing all the posts have made me so happy! I'm planning to reread Blue Castle via audiobook so I can catch up soon! :D
Also, I would love to know your thoughts on Jane of Lantern Hill - I love Jane, and the ending where her parents get back together always makes me cry 💜
I also loved your Blythe kids ranking post, my favorite is Rilla but Walter is a close second, and I have such a soft spot for Rilla/Kenneth.
Anyway, thanks for listening to my rambling, your blog is amazing and I'm thrilled to see more l m montgomery/blue castle fans come out of the woodwork because of the book club!
Oh my gosh...someone asking me my opinion of Jane of Lantern Hill? Giving me an opportunity to talk about my FAVORITE LM Montgomery book??? A GIFT
First of all, about the blue castle book club: WELCOME!! I'm excited to read your thoughts as we approach these next chapters!! It is also one of my favorite LM Montgomery books and favorite books of all time, so I'd like to commend you on your taste. 😌 Rilla and Walter absolutely deserve the top two spots in the Blythe kid ranking as well!
I've written a post about Jane before, but I'll happily repeat some of my thoughts here.
I think Jane of Lantern Hill was one of the last LM Montgomery books I read. After reading so many, you develop expectations about who the main character of an LM Montgomery novel is. Without fail - Anne, Emily, the Story Girl, Rilla, Pat, Valancy Stirling- all of them are dreamy, sensitive, and poetic. This definitely ranges - Valancy is more acerbic than Anne, who is gentler than Emily, who is less ditzy than Rilla - but I think it's safe to say these are the hallmarks of an LM Montgomery main character (excluding short stories - never forget alexander abraham).
Jane is a wee bit of an outlier in this respect. While Valancy pores over John Foster, and Emily and Anne write poetry, and the Story Girl keeps audiences spellbound--Jane is noted to be brilliant in math. She definitely possesses many of the hallmarks listed above, from hating ugly houses to having a flair for reciting, but Jane has a hard practicality that isn't quite as present in the others. Unlike Anne, for example, Jane is very down to earth. That's why she's probably (okay this changes like every day but still) my favorite LM Montgomery heroine; I find her competence and sense appealing.
Now that I think about it, the book shares a lot in common with the Blue Castle. Much like Valancy, Jane is miserable at the beginning of her book, and much like Valancy, the book focuses on her finding a safe space and making it her own in a way. However, if The Blue Castle is romantic, Jane of Lantern Hill is cozy. It is extremely re-readable to me because it is the epitome of cozy. Jane also has to learn to stand on her own two feet and gain her own autonomy, but on its on a homier scale than Valancy's is.
Andrew Stuart is also one of my favorite male characters LM Montgomery has ever written. He holds strong in the top three with Walter and Barney every time. He's technically (on the most technical of technicalities) a romantic interest, but the lens of the book is Jane, and so the lens on Andrew is as a father - and this, this is where the book really shines.
Also, as I've written before, Jane of Lantern Hill is about father-daughter relationships in the most heartwarming way. Jane of Lantern Hill is a love story, but it's the love between a father and his daughter. Andrew Stuart, for all his flaws, is an exceedingly likeable character. Jane--and through Jane, the reader--feels safe with him, and it comes through on almost every page. I think this is what makes the book so cozy. It's the story of a little girl who lives a very cold and lonely life, only to find someone who loves her very much and in that someone, a home.
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butchpeace · 7 hours
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Hey, recently found your blog though the detrans tag. I'm looking for some advice, if you don't mind me asking.
I [mid-20's] was born female and transitioned (top surgery, hysterectomy & oophorectomy, 6+ years on HRT) and I feel...out of place.
I've never been able to mix with LGBT groups and I don't understand the culture (?) surrounding it. The word "queer" bothers me because I know what it means, I believe sexuality to be sex-based (because that makes sense—I can't comprehend how anyone can believe lesbians are able to be into dick), I don't think gender/sex is "fluid" or what have you, I find asking people for their pronouns to be insulting and invasive to everyone (+ using "they" as default)—save for, specifically, openly non-binary people—etc., etc. So, there's no community to be found within the LGBT community for me. It is what it is.
I've tried to find some sort of space to slot into within "TERF" corners of the internet, but the community (?) freaks me out somewhat. (i.e., using terms like "genderists" is weird as hell to me & puts me off as someone questioning detransition & still on HRT.) So, no community there. Again, it is what it is.
I've tried Transmedicalist groups, but again, my "TERF-esque" beliefs aren't welcome. They're not a fan of Buck Angel (neither am I, but I relate to & agree with his "female living as a man" perspective).
I suppose I'm just wondering how the hell you do it. How are you getting by? How do you find normal, likeminded people who get you?
I have a [not trans] girlfriend who has been incredibly supportive of me throughout my transition + with now referring to me with "she"/"woman"/etc and such [privately]. We share similar views on sexuality being sex-based, so things have worked out well between us.
I'm just feeling real alien whenever I compare my life & beliefs to all of these different groups of people. Feels like there's nowhere to go to.
Honestly, it’s tough! I’m new to all this too and I feel like we’re in this weird space right now where detransitioners are figuring all this out together. I’m also not someone who will have an easy time of socially detransitioning, so it’s gonna be a gradual process for me.
I benefitted a lot from detrans support groups in the beginning, and made some closer connections through there with people who I hope will be in my life long term, although they’re long distance. That’s what helped me really figure out where I stand on everything, and helped me sort through my mental health shit and the reasons for my transition in the first place, as well as processing the trauma of it all. Feel free to DM me if you’re interested in a support group, or I’m always down for new detrans friends if you want to talk!
I’m not out as detransitioning to everyone in my life yet, but the process of starting to come out has been interesting. It’s really hard to try to balance all these different groups and find people who get you while also being completely honest about your opinions and your history. I have trans friends who I want to keep in my life. Even if I no longer agree with transition, I still care about them. They respect my detransition even if they don’t get it. I have LGB friends who understand what detransition means but who also don’t really get it on a deeper level. I have straight friends who understand what detransition means, but don’t understand lesbian culture or the forces that caused my transition in the first place.
But I think the important thing is to just be really honest. That’s something I’m working on myself. I think people understand more than you might think they would, once you really open up to them. And don’t be afraid to speak your mind a little bit here and there, as it feels safe. I honestly believe that most people have reservations and disagreements with the mainstream beliefs of the trans community, and they’ll be happy to know that you’re a safe person for them to talk about that with. For example, most people don’t like the idea of kids transitioning, and don’t agree with the sexuality bullshit. Those can be easy ways to get into a conversation about it all.
Hopefully something there helped 🤷🏻‍♂️🌈
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wingsmombolo · 5 days
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Hi Wing, and anyone who may read this. (?)
I have had this account for several years and I haven't really put it to good personal or creative use.
I realize now what a wonderful opportunity I haven't afforded myself by not accepting the Tumbler invite, to " write whatever you want."
My daughter is the writer. I have thoughts, opinions and memories in abundance, but I am not a writer.
Back in the day, I was a pretty good communicator, but seldom wrote of personal topics (for my own sake anyway). I dabbled in creative writing and more often wrote about things I felt strongly about or in response to an event or quotable quote that moved me and seldom from personal experiences.
It seemed indulgent and frivilous to write for my own sake, when life was always so busy and full. I never kept a diary nor could manage keeping up a journal, for any length of time anyway.
So, I plan to try using this space as my own little corner and experiment. I'm going to try being a bit adventurous and explore a bit. It seems like a safe and welcoming space.
I have hope enough to not just dream or reminisce, but plan!
I hope to write discoveries I find in current every day things (which is what makes up most of our lives), as well as reflect on matters long behind me.
Most of my energy and time, I will need to devote living in the present and matters still ahead of me, so I don't really know if I will be posting much of anything. (That is OK since there's no one to disappoint!)
It is just a wonderful thing to knowing I have this opportuity. Hoping for time, and most challenging the energy, to do this now; to express random thoughts and memories, or share other's creative contributions which have touched me and this old soul of mine.
I've been told since I was a young girl that I have an old soul. After passing my 69th birthday in August, I think it is fine that I have finally grown into it!
I have many things I wish to do which may be left undone, but I aim to have few regrets. Regret is a sad and useless emotion not deserving of my energy; better to not let it take hold and let it go so we can keep moving forward. Make things right or better than we found them. Thanking God for whom all blessings flow.
I am not only getting older, I have Multiple Myeloma, a blood cancer that affects bone marrow which produces the blood cells in your body. My cancer was diagnosed early and is not an aggressive type, but my treatment is difficult and complicated because I have other conditions which worsen with chemotherapy, making treatment difficult and limiting available options.
Since there is no cure for Myeloma, continuing treatment to slow its progression is necessary for my wellbeing and if possible extend my life. I had a stem cell ( bone marrow) trsnsplant in 2021, and acheived a partial remission, then followed my maintenece chemotherapy which was suspended after severely suppressing my already compromised immune system. The 20 months off treatment gave the opportunity for my nlood counts to improve enough to have a hip joint replacement (2022) and shoulder joint replaced (2023), both of which improved my quailty of life greatly. I've had some opportunities to visit family & friends and enjoy being in the community again for small periods of time here now and again, ( with precautions ) but mostly I'm pretty isolated most of the time. I'm so grateful to have good friends & family and church family who lift me up and never forget me.
Living with chronic or serious health conditions for most of my full and busy life has been good though. Like everyine, there are good times and difficult times. Like most people, most of my growth have been in difficult times. I thank God for my time and that I am still here by his Grace. I trust in His plan for me.
I'm just taking this bit of time and space for my own sake. To express myself in writing which I won't discard ( I hope), but save here. There might not be a reader, but they will still be here. I writer needs an audience, but since I'm not a writer, if no ones reads these offerings, that's OK.
It will be my collection of Inspirational quotes, images of art, devotions and other ranfom ramblings I've never saved or organized before.
I still have work I need and want to do, for my loving family, treasured friends, church family and adopted community, so I will still devote most of my time and energy toward living fully in the present, appreciating the blessings in my life and staying as healthy as possible. Life is fluid and always feels for me, but the invite to write "whatever I want" motivates me enough try adding this to my day whenver I can!
Prayers & hugs until next time!
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https://www.tumblr.com/taylorswiftstylequestions/757751013886312448/i-love-being-the-one-fan-who-doesnt-like-ilipw?source=share
Meanwhile, I really don't enjoy being an odd one out and have considered engaging less in fandom spaces because of it.
I love Innocent, Stay x3, Breathe, and seven, which are all songs that people either don't care for or actively hate (although I think with seven is mostly just here, haha).
I don't care for Getaway Car (it's fine, but overhyped imo), Cornelia Street, DBATC, TTDS, or most of 1989 >_>
I think some people like to be contrarian (sometimes it almost feels intentional!). As you know, I loooooooooooooooove "Breathe". In my TSS Top 31 of all time! And I am an enjoyer of "Innocent" - always have been! It's so pretty.
And well. You know how I feel about "seven" lol. Apologies!
I hope you always feel safe and welcomed for your opinions no matter what they are in this space!
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lathalea · 2 years
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To the Anon discussing Marxism, PC, and gender in fics
I have read your latest reply but I decided not to post it on my blog. I appreciate you being candid about your world view and beliefs, but out of respect to Tumblr community I'm not going to relay your thoughts to my followers. My blog is a safe space for everyone who loves fanfiction, no matter who they are and who they identify as. Some of your opinions stray way beyond the fanfic realm, into real life. In my opinion, they support hurtful stereotypes and feel upsetting, not only to me personally and to my identity, but to other fanfiction writers and readers - and everyone else, the LGBTQ+ community, the allies and all the good non-prejudiced people out there 💙
I am sorry, but I'm not going to let my blog become a platform for the ideas you presented in today's ask. I respect your right to have your own opinions, even if I don't agree with them, but this is not the place to share them. I hope our little exchanges made you think at least a bit about how you perceive fanfiction and other issues.
If you ever wish to have a respectful and open-minded discussion about Thorin fics, accepting that we all are different and entitled to various interpretations of the core material, you're most welcome to. But I politely decline to discuss real-life social issues with you. I don't agree with criticizing others simply because they don't conform to your worldview.
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And now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to return to Middle Earth. Have a nice day.
Everyone, be on the lookout for more letters from Thorin when His Majesty's Royal Ask Box opens again really soon.
And you know him - he is an open-minded Dwarf coming from a very tolerant society where everyone is welcome 💙💙💙
Tagging the other Anon who pointed out the gender issue problem in these asks, @icvarus @mirkwood-princeling @legolasbadass @linasofia @xxbyimm @i-did-not-mean-to @middleearthpixie @lordoftherazzles @jayvrontio @maalezzo @msilverstar and everyone else who reblogged, commented and talked with me about this. Thank you, you're wonderful! 👑
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gun-witch · 1 year
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OK so I have a fun thing I wanna try out. I'm gonna explain the footnotes about the factions in my worldbuilding project, and end with a poll, and I want people to vote on which faction they'd most support if they lived in this world, and optionally share why. I honestly hope this breaches containment because my friend group would pretty much exclusively support two of them and I'm more curious about people on Tumblr as a whole. There's not many and they're pretty simple ideologically, with the member planets having some variety so even if you don't entirely agree with a faction you can probably find a member planet that matches your exact beliefs.
ESA
The ESA is a regional alliance centered around Sol (our solar system) in the Orion Arm of the galaxy. Planetary governments range from moderate socialism that could be argued to be social liberalism to hardcore Communism. Homelessness and inequality are almost entirely eradicated, and the ESA Navy keeps their territory exceptionally safe. There's also heavy government transparency, with the IAC (think SCP foundation) as the most secretive group, still publicly known to exist, and publishing records on their operations once they're complete. War crimes and corruption are heavily punished, and advanced bioengineering has allowed people full freedom in their appearance and identity.
The Republic
The Republic is a libertarian alliance centered around the fictional Valderna system in the Cygnus arm (connected to Orion to make up Orion-Cygnus). Originally an ESA colony that declared independence to free itself from socialism, the Republic has adopted a meritocracy where financial success directly translates into political power, "vote with your wallet" in a literal sense. Those in poverty as well as criminals are given second chances through a rehabilitation program, in which a person is subjected to advanced biological and neurological restructuring which allows them a guaranteed position in the company handling their case. Their navy is on par with the ESA and has most of the same ship designs, albeit with some different weapons.
Iris
Iris is a secret society organizing anarchist systems and pirate crews throughout the Galactic Bulge (yes this is a real place in space, in universe we renamed it to Sagittarius for obvious reasons) l. Iris uses a heavily decentralized structure in which leaders are simply the people others listen to, and laws are replaced with public opinion. Despite their political nature, Iris boasts one of the most advanced fleets due to their willingness to salvage ancient technology that other groups consider too dangerous or even heretical to touch.
The Nexus
The Nexus is a council of the remaining Veneran royal families who have yet to abandon monarchy in favor of joining another alliance. These houses unite under the Veniha religion, which teaches that the Veneran species are protectors of the universe and must use their unique psionic abilities and technology responsibly. They are not, as many think, supremacist, and modern Veniha welcomes converts from all species (though many choose to convert to the Veneran species, this is discouraged as much as encouraged). The Nexus keeps their footprint small, building settlements on singular planets to cover entire regions of territory, which they often leave to the other factions living there, choosing instead to simply observe and protect from catastrophy. Their navy is powerful but entirely pacifistic, though they don't judge violence in other groups, their technology allows them to subdue attackers with harmless psionics, and solve things as diplomatically as possible. When that doesn't work, there's always turning them into woodland animals.
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shauntamae · 5 months
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Welcome back. Upon my last engagement with you all on IG I stated I was grappling with how often to post. I decided to post when I felt led... Well, consider me led.
For the past couple of days, I've really been thinking about the dreams I envisioned for my life over the years and how they've shifted. As a four, maybe five year old kid, my first dream was to be a tap dancer. I was so fascinated with music and how one could create it with their feet. I love music, and at the time, I loved tapping my feet, being on my tippy toes, jumping around, and dancing. Honestly, I still do! Unfortunately, It was quickly shut down. So, I wanted to be a ballerina. That was shut down as well. Everything I wanted to do creatively was shut down. I remember asking a foster parent at the time, "If none of these make money, what does?" After listing several options, I chose to be a lawyer. It made good money, and I could talk and voice my opinion as much as I wanted. Something I was never afforded because "Children are to be seen. Not heard." That dream quickly dissipated. At that same age of about 5, I began my journey in acting. It was a little school or church play, but I loved it because it allowed me to escape the horrors in my real life and become someone completely different. As much as I loved theatre, at the time, I didn't even consider it because, again, it didn't make money. I did, however, fall in love with basketball. I was always the only girl in most of my foster homes, so I did what the boys did. And did it well. I loved basketball so much that I vowed I would become the first woman to be in the NBA and the first woman to dunk... Clearly, I never made it to the NBA and Lisa Leslie beat me to the punch.
As I grew older, my dreams shifted quite a bit. But one thing always remained. That was to be a voice to the voiceless. A safe space for those who've never experienced security. A cheerleader for the ones riding the bench... the underdogs. I'd say this aligned more with my purpose as opposed to a dream... I'll dive into the difference on another day.
Now, My way of doing this has simply gone from owning a childcare center, to solely being an actress, to being an actress AND an advocate, to being an actress AND an author AND an advocate, to being an Actress AND an Author AND an advocate AND a motivational speaker AND AND AND....
I've found that the world expects us to pick something and sat down somewhere. To find a lane and stay in it. The world tells us there's only room for one dream, and that dream has to be so big that it consumes your every thoughts and being. I was born a rebellious human being. I've always upheld opposition to what society, the world, tells me I should do, be, act, and look. I move to the beat of my own drum. It's mine, and I'll strike it however I please. With that being said, I'm a firm believer of "Yes AND" as well as "This AND." I don't believe everyone was created to simply do one thing or have one desire. If we were, the desire to do more would never be ingrained deep into our souls. I remember a while back, I shared that I wanted to be a foster care advocate. This person said, "But you said you wanted to be an actress. You don't know what you want. " Pause for a second. While I believe in "Yes AND" as well as "This AND," I also believe in the ability to shift directions, to have a change of heart or desire, and simply NOT KNOWING. If you're in this place of uncertainty... LEAN INTO THAT. there's so much freedom in unknowing. As my wonderful Peloton Trainer, Tunde Oyeneyin says, "The Beauty of Uncertainty is Infinite Possibility. When You don't know what's next, you don't know what's next... Thus, ANYTHING can be next." The possibilities are endless. There's no limitations or boxes surrounding uncertainty. It's all open and free for you to explore. Don't allow someone else's ticking clock to turn your hands before their time!
Now, back to the words this person spoke to me. For a moment, I allowed what they said to discourage me. I felt guilty for choosing something else other than acting. And then my perspective shifted and I replied "who says I can't do both?" They had no answer.
Ultimately, this is my life. If I choose to do one thing or I choose to do five. That's my choice. If I choose to strike my drum once or ten times, it's mine. No one can tell me how to live, what dreams I pursue, or how I go about them.
The same goes for you all. Dare to believe in the uncertainty. Dare to believe in the "Yes AND" or "This AND" Do what makes you happy, fuels your soul, and makes you proud of who you are! I hope you found some good nuggets in here. Until next time... 💜
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