#taken over by the skulk or something and continues to protect their home even beyond death

[atanxdoesstuff]

the warden

also i really liked the lineart so :D

[proclaimersofheroes]

The Cracks In Our Family

 For @gentrychild​, and their lovely nonnies. Feast, vampires and loyalists!  https://archiveofourown.org/works/24644959 For those who prefer ao3 He didn't want to go back. 

Crawling back to that house, after all that man had done to him? No.

He'd found the family grave, his name washed of the red that had declared him still alive. What ashes had they used? What bones? 

It took a lot of effort and a crowbar to get into the storage underneath the Todoroki family grave. But, after living so long on the street it hadn't made him that much more grimy.

Urns lined the space neatly. Blue eyes fell on the newest looking one, and his hands hovered over it.

He was sweating, his throat felt tight. The hammering of his heart in his chest should prove beyond all doubt that he was alive.

Right?

 A small breeze ruffled matted white hair. Patchy skin itched and sagged, dirty clothes and skin threatening infection along burns that were prepared to split open. The earlier birdsong was drowned out by the memory of hearing his father read out an obituary for him. 

"Todoroki Touya was a determined young man, and a budding hero. Even with the control he was taught, his flames were too powerful for his body. Had he only better restraint and better health, my eldest son would not have been taken from us so soon."

A bitter laugh bubbled from singed lips. Todoroki Enji, the 'hero' Endeavor, didn't know the meaning of the word restraint. Not when it came to catching villains, not when it came to chasing All Might's back. Not when it came to hiding his distaste of people. Not when it came to breeding and abusing Touya's mom.

 Not when it came to beating and burning Touya, little Shoto.

 He couldn't laugh any more, bile bubbling up from an empty, roiling stomach instead. The smell of burning flesh, of intense pain so great before it turned cold and numb. Visits to doctors with medical quirks who were passed fistfulls of money to keep quiet. Little baby Shoto, not even fully reading and writing hiragana or katakana, covered in massive bruises and sobbing on the floor.

Todoroki Enji had control over everything from his fire to his family to his words, but he never bothered with restraint. Always more, always faster, always hotter.

 Always Touya taking his ire, to try and spare Shoto and his mom. 

If he thought Touya was dead, who would protect his mom and siblings?

 He knew he had to go back.

 He couldn't. 

Go home.

Run away. 

Go home. 

Run away. 

Something wet dripped on Touya. It startled him out of his endless turmoil, the cycle of indecision. Blue eyes blinked, and when Touya touched his face his fingers came away bloody. "Shit," another drop landed on him, and Touya wondered where else he was bleeding from now.

But no, while Touya had been trapped in his own head clouds had moved in. The sun was lower in the sky, painting orange across the distant horizon while dripping clouds puffed up all purple and blue. He had to get under shelter. 

But first, Touya braced himself for what he had come here to check. Lifting the lid of 'his' urn, the young man peered inside. 

Well. It seemed even in death he had been replaced.

___

It seemed that scars made you look untrustworthy, even these days. 

Normal people avoided him, at the first glimpse of his charred flesh and grungy appearance. He was covered in filth from living outdoors, begging and dumpster diving for scraps. His previously white shirt was yellow, grey and brown with mostly unknown stains, grey shorts tattered as he'd scavenged and had to tear strips for bandages. 

Criminals and lowlifes seemed split between whether his scars meant that he was dangerous, or that he was weak and easy pickings. His fire had scared them off easily enough, but there were a few who had caught him off guard.

Of course, there were nice people on the streets too. Homeless, those down on their luck or kicked out due to their quirks. Or lack of, in quite a few cases. A foreigner named Jane had shared her meager meal with him last week, after he'd scared off some black-tongued addicts trying to steal from her. 

It was hard to keep hold of any morals out here. But he wouldn't be like his father, who didn't care which villains died in his arrests. No, 'Dabi' as he went by now would not be a murderer. 

Of course, Dabi would be dead soon if he didn't do something. The teen hissed as he pressed at the tattered edge of his scars. The bubble under dead flesh moved slowly, until he was able to extract the pus from the infected area. 

The shelters were overcrowded, the hospitals would ask questions he couldn't answer. 

But, there was one place he knew of that was always stocked with medical supplies. A hot shower. Washing machines. Food.

Pushing off the wall of the alley, Dabi looked towards the sky. It would be late by the time he reached his old home. That was just fine for him, everyone would be asleep. 

He skulked down the streets and alleys, doing his best to act natural, act like he wasn't planning on breaking and entering a 'hero's' home. The sun cast a long shadow, eventually taking most light with it. 

In blues and greys, Dabi traveled, staying out of the illumination of street lamps. The night turned cool, causing shivers along what nerves hadn't been burnt out. By now, Dabi was used to moving in the dark. For some reason, he suspected that his eyesight was better at night than it was before his untimely and mysterious 'death.'

Even having left the place two months ago, Dabi would never forget it. Large imposing gates, locked and barred for the night, before a traditional japanese mansion. 

But it wasn't his first time sneaking into the place, remembering nighttime escapades with Natsuo whenever he wasn't too injured. The hole was right where it had always been, hiding behind hydrangeas. His malnutrition made it even easier to squeeze through. 

As ridiculous as it was, the spare key was where it had always been too, under a false rock by the empty koi pond. 

Silently delighting in dirtying Enji's immaculate home, bare toes rubbed on the waxed floorboards as Dabi tried to decide what he wanted to do first.

___

Shoto needed to pee. 

That was the first and only thought, that led him to carefully crawl out of bed. Rubbing at his eyes, the little boy carefully looked either way down the hall. No one was around, which meant Shoto was free to leave his room. 

All the lights were off, his family sound asleep. Oh so quietly, delicately, Shoto tiptoed with the wall to guide him. He couldn't remember who it was who taught him that the floorboards nearest the wall were quietest, but it was good to remember when he didn't want to catch his father's attention. 

The bathroom was found without incident, and Shoto silently closed the door behind him before turning on the light. It felt damp in the room, for some reason. Little brows furrowed in confusion, but nature's call was too pressing. 

When he stepped onto the stool to wash his hands, Shoto frowned at having to wipe the mirror. Water droplets clung to the smooth surface, and now his hand. Was the mirror sweating? 

When he left the bathroom, Shoto left the door open behind him. Maybe the extra air would cool off the mirror. 

There was a faint rattle from below, followed by a word he didn't know, and the little boy froze. Was someone awake after all? 

His parent's door was closed and dark, so it wasn't his father at least. Peering down, a faint light was visible from the kitchen. 

Juggling between just going to bed and investigating, Shoto's curiosity won in the end. Being as quiet as he could, Shoto snuck down the hallway and then carefully felt out the stairs one by one so he wouldn't trip. 

Reaching the ground floor, he continued his silent quest. His siblings' rooms were dark and quiet too, but he could hear a quiet rumbling as he passed the laundry room. 

No one was supposed to do laundry at nighttime, and Shoto grew worried for whoever it was.

There was something moving around in the kitchen, something big. He could hear the heavy breathing, the crunch of food being bitten into. Was it a villain? 

No, villains attacked people. Focusing, Shoto held out his left hand and called up some fire. It burst to life, traveling up his arm and into his hair. 

His pajamas were fireproof, but the boy didn't even focus on that. No, instead of that he saw blue eyes flash in the light, heard the clatter of the plate and utensils as whatever was in the kitchen flailed and disappeared.

Again he heard that call. "Fuck!" quiet, fast, and Shoto wasn't even sure if it was a word. Slowly, he circled around to get a better look. 

"Hello?" he called in a whisper, and got a response.

"Shh! Shh, shh, shh." Illuminated in his light was a poof of white, retreating away from him backwards. Reflective blue eyes framed by black circles, a large mouth opened with the remains of a sandwich in it swallowed by black. 

In his surprise, Shoto lost control and the fire went out. The boy was left blinking in rapid confusion as he tried to adjust to the sudden darkness. "Hello?" Shoto tried again, and got no response. 

He didn't dare try his fire again, instead fumbling around in the dark for a bit. Whatever small thing had been making a sandwich in the kitchen must be gone. Shoulders slumping in disappointment, Shoto carefully made his way back to bed. 

In the morning, it was a surprise to get some time with his remaining brother. When he mentioned his encounter, the bigger boy frowned. "Are you sure it wasn't a dream?" 

"There was a mess in the kitchen." he pointed out. "Bits of bread and lettuce and meat." Natsuo at least seemed to consider this seriously. 

"Touya used to say we had racoons and tanuki come in sometimes." His tone held sorrow, and Shoto tucked himself more into his brother's side. Ever since Touya had died four months back, the hole in their family hadn't closed up. "Maybe they're back. What did it look like again?" 

Shoto thought back, through the haze of having woken up in the middle of the night. "It was scared of my fire. And was big, had reflective eyes. Lots of black and white, with circles around its eyes."

"Yep, sounds like a raccoon to me."

[quiche-pocket]

Not Prince Charming: Or Is He?

Here we are again. All this new Vikings 6 content and rewatching old episodes have inspired more of this story that I keep saying is not going to continue! This is a follow up to Not Prince Charming and The Beginning .

Summary: Annis is very pregnant with Hvitserk’s child and she has come to Kattegat to tell him and follow the path her dreams have guided her towards. Her mother is still the little bird in her ear telling her that her child will be the future ruler of Kattegat and beyond. When she arrives and sees the prince that forced himself on her the first time they met will she use him for her own gain? Or will Hvitserk show another side of himself and change the course of Annis’ story?

Disclaimer and A/N: I do not own any of the images, 2 I found on Pinterest and 1 has been on my phone forever, but please if they are yours let me know so I can give credit! As always, please let me know if you’d like to be added or removed from the tag list. This chapter is happier, but there are still moments where Annis is conflicted and thinks back on past decisions she has made. There is no sexual content or violence in this chapter. Feel free to share and let me know what y’all think!!! 

There was a commotion outside of Hvitserk’s rooms that woke him from a deep sleep. He and his brothers had returned from another successful raid the night before and the celebration had gone late into the night. He had stumbled away from the hall as the sun was rising and fallen onto the pelts and furs covering his bed before slipping into a deep slumber.  

A banging on his door and the sound of Ubbe’s voice calling his name was what roused him from his bed and when he opened the door, Hvisterk was greeted with chaos. Thralls were running between rooms with bedding and clothing, his brothers were standing there looking as horrible as he felt but much angrier.  

“Hvitserk. There is someone waiting for you in the hall. I suggest you handle it before Lagertha comes.” Ubbe sighed and motioned him toward the great hall.  

Upon entering he saw her and froze in place. The auburn hair was unmistakable. She was slightly older, but definitely the woman he had found in the woods after the battle. When he left her, though, she was not with child. His heart hammered and Hvitserk made a detour to one of the long tables to grab a horn of ale. Perhaps if he blacked out again he would wake from this nightmare in his own bed surrounded by beautiful women as he had been dreaming of moments earlier.  

“What is the meaning of this? Why have you come here?” He growled, making his way slowly toward the woman. A crowd was forming, guards encroaching on the scene should she attack along with Ubbe and Bjorn just beyond. Ivar would be skulking in the shadows until the opportune moment to make himself known.  

The woman was silent and Hvitserk approached, snatching her by her hair and pulling her head up to look at him.  

“Speak!” He bellows, losing patience with her and starting to panic as his memories of their last meeting flood back.  

“Prince Hvitserk I come to you seeking refuge. Your army destroyed my home and you forced yourself on me leaving me with your unborn child. Prince you must help me. This is your child, I know it to be true and he must know who his father is. Please have mercy, I have nowhere to go.” Her eyes filled with tears and Hvitserk softened, seeing the fullness of her belly and the desperation on her face. This child may be his. How he has longed for children and a family to come home to after sailing and raiding.  

“Rise. You are exhausted. Did you travel alone? Tell me your name again.”  

“Annis, Prince Hvitserk. I have traveled alone. I was with the few survivors but they can no longer care for me in the condition I am and I knew I had to come to you.” She was still shaken, but her voice was steadier and she kept eye contact with Hvitserk. He helped her to her feet and called to the women to bathe and care for her then bring her back to the hall.  

More commotion followed, low murmuring as those who witnessed the exchange shared what they saw with those that were not present. Bjorn had left right after Annis and the women, presumably to inform his mother on what had taken place. Hvitserk and the other sons of Ragnar sat together in silence. Ivar had a smirk on his face and Hvitserk wanted nothing more than to strike him with the empty horn still clutched in his fist.  

“So, brother, what are we going to do about this?”  

“We?” Hvitserk questioned Ubbe. “I joined with her after the raid of her village. She told me her mother had died and brother and father had been killed in the battle. The timing is right for the child to be mine. I will keep her with me for now, here until the child is born and then she will stay in the home in the woods until I am sure I can trust her. The child will be raised here as he should be.”  

“How do you know it is a he?” Ivar queried.

“I know.” Hvitserk rose from his seat, grabbed another horn and went to his rooms to prepare for when Lagertha came. He knew it would not be long.  

“She cannot stay here. She should not be in Kattegat. She is a threat and so is that child.” Lagertha’s voice rang with authority as she addressed the young man in front of her. Hvitserk had never been openly confrontational towards her, but in this he was belligerent. Demanding. When she had come in the hall he had been ready and waiting. Before she had spoken, the younger son of Ragnar told her that this girl was carrying his child and would be staying under his protection. The situation made Lagertha uneasy and looking at the eyes of the other princes, including her son, she was not alone.

“I will protect her. No one will touch her or my son while they are in my home and under my care.”

“My home!” Lagertha cried. “You are forgetting who you speak to, Hvitserk. This girl means nothing to any of us and you do not even know that the child is yours. She is lying and will use this to take Kattegat from us claiming this child is the rightful king once we are all dead at her hand. Do not challenge me Hvitserk.” She stared him down but Hvitserk would not be swayed.  

“No one lays a finger on this girl. Should something happen to her before this child is born it will be my hand you will worry about, Lagertha.” He stood, towering over her in her seat, and stormed from the hall furs billowing behind.  

Once Hvitserk had burst from the room and the heavy doors had banged shut Lagertha studied the young men around her.  

“He cannot be this foolish,” she mused and the princes chuckled among themselves.

“Hvitserk is loyal. To a fault,” Bjorn began.  

“A child is something he has longed for since I can remember,” Ubbe explained. “He believes it is the will of the gods I think. He is soft when he is not slaughtering Christians.” At that all three laughed again and Lagertha began to lose her patience.  

“This girl will stay. In her condition she is little threat but hear my words that she will be under watch. Should anything happen or appear she is a problem then she will be dealt with. Is this understood?” All three nodded. Ivar appeared pensive, Bjorn ready for action and Ubbe had a look of worry on his face. She would keep watch over him as well as his younger brother and new guest.

*************************************************************************************

As soon as Hvitserk had left the hall and the meeting with his brothers and the queen, he went to the chambers where Annis was being bathed and checked over. He stood to the side, out of her eyesight, and observed for awhile. She seemed worried but not unpredictable or dangerous. This was the girl who he had brought to submission more than once during their first meeting. There was no doubt in Hvitserk’s mind he could do it again if needed.  

“My prince, come closer I know you must have concerns and questions.” Her voice came softly and she did not turn to him but reached a gentle hand toward him. Hvitserk took it and came to kneel by bed she was resting in.

“Why did you come here. You must know that I am not next in line to be ruler of Kattegat. This child you bear will not be a king.” He cocked his head and regarded her thoughtfully.

“Prince Hvitserk I cannot explain everything, but I know our child will be special. My god has given me dreams and visions of a child born of a prince of Kattegat. I do not know beyond that, but I trust my god as you trust yours.” Annis still did not truly believe in God, but she felt this was something the viking could understand.  

“You may stay here. I will protect you until the child is born, but Lagertha will be watching. You are safe with me, Annis.” He stood and took her hand in his, placing his other on her swollen belly. “You are not alone any longer. I will protect you.” He said, eyes glued to her belly.  

As Hvitserk left the room he did not notice the shadow lurking in the corner nor observe it creeping along and slipping through the door he just exited. His mind was focused on the child and the mother. What a strange woman to keep the baby resulting from a joining as violent as ours he mused. He did not regret what happened, especially with a son coming out of it, but he was still shocked by the events of the morning. This was stranger than the dream he’d woken from just hours before.

*************************************************************************************

“Annis!” A whispered hiss sounded just as the bedroom door opened and banged shut again. It was not Hvitserk’s voice and it made the young woman in the room freeze when she recognized the gravely tone.

“Mother!” She hissed back. “You should not be here! Why have you come? If you are caught they will surely put me to death and the child as well. You must leave!” Annis turned in her bed and saw her crone of a mother hunched and limping toward her.  

“I needed to see you. I needed to know if we are safe and how the news was received by the prince and the others.”

“The child and I are safe for now. We will be under the protection of Hvitserk, the child’s father, and he will keep us from the queen’s hand. You must leave! I will send word to the cottage we found when it is safe, but you cannot be here. Stay there and I will protect you as he does me.”  

Her mother stood by until footsteps passed the room and she slipped out the door again, heading for the cottage in the woods that she and Annis had found before the girl appeared in Kattegat.  

Annis lowered herself to the soft bed, covered in firs and surrounded by warmth from the crackling fire. She rested her hand on her belly as Hvitserk had done and smiled. He trusted her enough to bring her into his home and protect her and her child. Would he keep his word after the babe was born? Was this all a ploy to take the baby and do away with her. Annis’s mother used to believe the latter but after seeing the light in his eyes when looking at her in this way, she believed the prince would do whatever it took to protect the child and her as the mother.  

*************************************************************************************

During the weeks leading up to the birth of their child, Hvitserk spent his time keeping watch and did not leave Annis’ side. She slept in his bed and he catered to her. She saw his brothers watching suspiciously but none approached her. During meals he sat and spoke quietly to her, excusing them both when she finished eating. He was kind and loving in a way she did not expect. Every night as he fell asleep, he rested his hands and his lips on her belly and spoke quietly to their unborn child. He shared stories of his father and the gods. Their home and what it took to protect it. She would close her eyes and drift into dreams listening to his lilting voice and feeling the rumble of his chest glide over her body.  

No matter how often she sent her away, Annis’ mother continued to sneak into the walls of Kattegat and see her.  

“Mother he loves this child, I know this now. He will do anything to protect it.”

“And you? Does he listen to what you have to say? Have you told him that this child is the only way to protect the future of this place and that his brothers and that woman only stand in the way?” Her mother had been increasingly insistent that the only way to protect her child was to eliminate the others and take the power for themselves.  

“Mother his desires do not include being king-”  

“His desires are not important. This child is all that matters. It is up to you to convince him, or have you forgotten your dream? Has it been that long that you no longer remember why you are here?”  

“I have not forgotten,” she said quietly. Arguing with her mother was not fruitful. As she continued to get older, she was angrier and more frightened. Annis worried that she would try and take the future into her own hands. No matter how often she tried to convince her that everything was progressing as planned and that her mother did not need to risk coming, nothing soothed her fears. Annis explained she would come with the baby as soon as she could, but her mother was sure that someone would kill the child.  

“The future and honor of our family depends on this child!” Her mother cried and Annis shushed her and sent her away.

“I know, Mother, I will speak with him. Please go, it is not safe for you here.”

Her mother slipped away once again and Annis fell to the bed and began to cry. Hvitserk was kind. He was caring and generous and attentive. Her mother made him out to be a means to an end but the longer Annis was in Kattegat and surrounded by the comfort the prince could provide, the more she began to care for him as well.

*************************************************************************************

“Annis, I would like to take you for a walk with me. The women say it is good for the baby and will help the birth be easier. Come walk with me then I will feed you, I know you need your strength.” He smiled softly and helped her from the chair. He draped heavy furs that matched his over her shoulders and held her close as they walked through the snowy town.  

As they walked he pointed out people and buildings, telling stories and making her laugh until her cheeks hurt. He continually asked if she was tired or needed to rest but the company, conversation, and fresh air made Annis feel more refreshed than she had since before her mother’s last visit. Even in the cold her heart and cheeks were warmed by the closeness and care that Hvitserk showed. She had never felt like this since her father had died. Her father that she killed in order to fulfill a destiny her mother will never let her forget. A destiny that may not be what she thought her dreams were leading her towards. Perhaps having this child with Hvitserk was enough. A way to be free from her mother and the life they had. A chance for joy and love with a child and man who cared for her.  

“Annis?” Hvitserk’s voice pulled her back to the moment. She had paused at a stall of fruits and he was pointing at them as if asking which she would like.  

“Whichever you think is best,” she covered her distraction and leaned into his side as he selected the ripest ones before continuing on their way.

“You seem tired. Let us return to your room and you may rest until you are ready to eat?” He questioned and she nodded with a small smile. He beamed in return and they continued on home. A heavily pregnant English girl and a prince of Kattegat, walking the streets of the town arm in arm as lovers would. Annis began to question everything she had based her path around until this point just as the baby in her womb kicked and made her heart flutter.  

@x-valhalla​ @athroatfullofglass​ @ainatirb-j​ @westcoastselkie​ @lol-haha-joke​ @hissouthernprincess​

[annastrxng]

Insatiablevalor: YOU COULD HAVE DIED!!! ~ Annlett~

@insatiablevalor

“Edmund, I could have lost you! Why? Why didn’t you leave for Scotland?!!! So many people wish to kill you!” She relinquishes a heart-heavy sob. “Why? Why did you stay?” Anna sharply demands. Her entire body quivered violently with all the power of the adrenaline rush.

insatiablevalor  answered:

Edmund looked down at his black boots as she pleaded with him, not knowing exactly how to go about answering her— not just yet at least. She had been the woman that he once loved, and he had even thought about giving up everything for just a chance to be with her and to make her happy. Deep down, those feelings for her had never truly went away and yet being in her presence made the white hot sting of betrayal burn even hotter than it had before. “That is precisely why I had to stay.” he said, finally looking back up at her. “I realized that I was running away from all of my problems, but… I then I also realized that problems have a tendency of catching up to you… eventually.” Then something else stuck out to him. “You could have lost me?”

Concern radiates in the concentric confines of honey-dipped maple-syrup hues as she studies the Major. A nagging pain grips its icy weed-like tendrils into her heart, till it threatens to suffocate every beat. Lungs burn with the flames of shame’s caress. Guilt settles between the breath of her diaphragm like a heavy cannonball. The Rebel spy knows she has no right to demand answers- not after all she had done. Yet, that does not keep her from such persistent pursuit.

Anna’s trembling hands want to reach out to Edmund. Hell, she contemplates acting on the desire to seize hold of his uniform lapels and give him a good shake, until he returns to his senses. Or at least until he understood how deeply she loves him. Was Edmund being so reckless because she had refused to answer his question about loving him? Was this all her fault? By trying to solve a problem, had she unintentionally gone and made it worse? Perhaps, Ben was right to have offered her back up to Selah so quickly. Maybe… all she did was create messes, break hearts, and destroy the things she meant to protect and preserve. Just look at the disasters that her love had wrought with Abraham, Selah, Cicero, Abigail, her home, the tavern, and even the Cause.

The brunette had partly contrived the notion to walk away and accept that she was no longer something he cared for- nor someone he wished to answer to. But the sudden sound of his pleasant gravel-filled voice brings her to pause.

Anna considers letting his words stand, met only with her stunned silence; even though she holds a few cards that he could not have foreseen. Edmund wouldn’t want to hear about her intrigues, the things that drew her into skulking about in the dead of the night with the expectation of results. Would he?

No, damn it! He deserves to know. The brunette internally argues with herself. Keeping secrets is what had done damage to the beautiful thing they had growing between them in the first place. She could not keep the concealed information in any longer for fear that Edmund may yet again, find cause to believe she was being insincere- instead of biding her time by being evasive and reflective. “We only needed a little more time…” Anna whispers. The rebel-spy despises the sound of her own voice in the same way she is repulsed by Simcoe. “Time to make another plan and execute it without any more loss…” She continued, albeit hesitantly.

“B…but you “had” to come back. You “had” to put yourself in harms way again. This time, in a place where I could not defend you from him!” She spits in complaint, her tone bordering on the soft but still accusatory side. Anna isn’t entirely angry. No. Edmund’s return pleases her. It is the situations that he has put himself into that cause her the greatest distress. 

Her gaze bashfully drops downwards until she is practically inspecting every grain, scuff-mark, and notch in the wooden floor below.”Aye.” A one word confirmation is followed by a labored sigh. One hand frees itself from the comforts of her skirts before landing delicately upon his arm. Her stance shifts as she considers the right words to use. Words, that would bring mending to all of the wounds she had caused and inflicted. But such powerful vocabulary seemed to lay just outside of Anna’s extensive and highly developed lexicon. For what compilation of letters smashed together could ever restore a severely shattered heart? Anna can think of nary a one.

Would Edmund even believe her? Dubious. Hell, does she even trust herself anymore? No. The thundering traitor taps out notes on her rib-cage that can be felt reverberating through every muscle, tendon, and fiber of her being. It declares it’s own war against the spinning-wheel called logic that resides in her mind. Silver sweeps of agony fall across dark hues and threaten to cling to long, delicate lashes. Pale-raspberry lips quiver with the need to explain but feel burdened, nearly mute.  

Hadn’t she already lost him the very day she could not bring forth a confession of love from a dangerously divided heart? ‘Have you found some…some hidden love for the ENEMY? ANNA, have you forgotten who your ENEMY is…?’ Abe’s poison and spite filled lecture clogs her ears. The speech brings with it the first drops of rain which, slickly slide down the gentle curves of her cheeks; although they are indoors. A shaky inhale is sucked in with the hopes of quieting the tide of sobs moving through her seemingly hollow chest.

She loved him. A stubborn more unrelenting part of her knew it was genuine; more tangible and pursuit-worthy than anything else she had ever found. Anna doubts she could ever feel the same way for another person even if she lived to be 300 years old. Still, Anna feels she must beg his forgiveness. “For…forgive me. I have spoken out of turn. I ha….have no right to presume that you were ever mine. Nor that you were ever mine to lose….” Her apology bores like acid through the final enduring piece of her soul. There was nothing more she yearned for than Edmund and still, he could not see it. Her infinite affection was not transparent enough through her actions and deeds. The Major was not fluent in her love language and he needed a translator. “I meant no offense..” The suffering brunette chokes out, the tangle of emotions making the words difficult to pry free of a twisted tongue. Her eyes squeeze shut in an effort to stop the maddening torrent but one drop of silver seems to latch on to another, till wave after wave crashes over her lids and spills pathetically down her face.

Keep yourself together she internally chastises. Pushing away the tears with her trembling fingers Anna further elaborates. “I meant only that I was .. worried over your safety and feared…I… I would find you dead….somewhere in a s…shallow grave…” A visible shudder over takes the brunette’s slender figure as her gaze refocuses on him through the smoggy blur that had befallen them. She wonders if he will catch on to the more subtle confession - that she had been searching for him with every visit into the city.

Having seen at least twelve shallow graves in Washington’s camp, the mutineers seeking what they were due for their services, the images of death were forever branded upon her mind. How many nights had passed since, that she awoken with the same terrifying nightmare plaguing even the deepest of rests? Hewlett’s face was cold and ashen. His uniform soaked in his own scarlet tide. Her fingers clutch his un-moving figure to her own curvier one, only to discover that he was beyond revival. Edmund was taken and she was left behind to suffer the miserable consequences of having loved something that could be so easily snatched from her- again. How many nights had she forced herself to ignore the burden of an invisible weight crushing down upon her, battling for air as she contemplates the places that Edmund could wind up? Hadn’t Simcoe left countless dead in his wake? Even Magistrate Richard Woodhull, the law of Setauket, had not been immune to the Ranger’s trap.

Presently, Edmund stands before her flesh and blood, more than the ghost or the corpse, she had imagined she’d find when Abe told her that he had reappeared on the shores of York City. All she wanted to do was embrace him, to finally confess the three words she had been unable to share before.

But what if Major Hewlett had moved on from her? What if he was happy with his life and her admission would only drag him further into an abyss of misery and darkness?

“You could have died…” Anna amends, in a hushed entreating tone. That was the same as a confession of caring if not, love- without having to say those exact words. Was it not? Her heavily quaking hand moves to tuck a few strands of his straying dark hair away from Edmund’s face. Her callous fingertips accidentally brushing against the contour his cheek. She knows not what else to say other than. “I’m so glad that you’re alive. Please, don’t make a habit of scaring me like that.” It was lame, all things considered but at least it was the Gospel truth. The second phrase was more of a desperate plea on the behalf of her poor aching heart.

[bisexualpirateheart]

20 for silver/thomas/james?

“That’s a weird way to say “I love you”“

Okay, so I wrote this as a sequel to this Silver/Thomas(James) ficlet because I knew I wanted to continue that, and this prompt just fit perfectly. Hope you like it!

                                                 *  *  *

One week into the voyage and Thomas is privately rethinkinghis previous assessment. It wasn’t completely incorrect; interesting is most assuredlyone word for how the voyage is passing. It’s also difficult and frustrating andon the verge of completely intolerable. James is barely talking. They take their meals andthey lie stiffly in the bunks at night and they wait for France.

Silver skulks aroundthe cabin, keeping his head down. He’s still well known on the high seas, so it makes sense for himto stay out of sight as much as possible, but it also means James stays awayfrom the cabin during the day as much as possible. 

Thomas finally corners him up on deck near the prow. None of the crew is around and they need to talk. Jamesdoesn’t acknowledge his presence at first, then finally says.

“What is it?”

“Why are you doing this?” Thomas asks in the most patientvoice he can. It wasn’t his idea to bring Silver along and he’d thought…well,let’s just say he had thought matters would be different aboard the ship.

“Doing what?” James doesn’t meet his gaze.

Thomas sighs. “Why did you bring him along if you’re justgoing to avoid him?”

“What else was I supposed to do?” James grips the railingtightly. “I…I couldn’t leave him there.” He bites his lip, teeth sinking hard into the firm flesh inagitation. “I can’t have the conversation I know I have to have with him aboard a ship.”

“And why’s that?”

“Because one of us will end up going into the sea.” Jamessays flatly.

Thomas represses his sigh this time. He places a hand onJames’s, just a brief squeeze. “It doesn’t have to be like this.”

“Oh?” James turns his head to look at him then. “And howshould it be?”

There’s something ugly in his tone that Thomas doesn’t like,but it’s something that he recognizes, though it takes him a little while. It’s the sound of James when he’s jealous, when he’s thinking something is being taken away fromhim, when he’s afraid of losing something that he cares about, something thatmatters. Thomas just isn’t sure what he thinks is in danger this time. 

“James.”

“Leave it for now.” James says brusquely.

                                                              *  *  *

So Thomas does. He wants James to talk to him voluntarily,not because Thomas is forcing him to. Nothing good will come of doing that.

So he returns to the cabin, where Silver is lying on hisbunk on his back, one arm above his head, the other tapping a restless tattooon his stump. He glances at Thomas when he enters, but says nothing.

Thomas eyes him. “Why did you agree to come?” 

“What else was I supposed to do?” Silver answers, gazing atthe roof.

That phrase again, echoed in James’s voice.

Just fucking talk toeach other.

Silver sighs and stretches his arms above his head. Jameswatches the pull of his arms and the motion of his chest. The memory of thatnight, of Silver pressed back against him is fading. And Thomas doesn’t want itto fade. He had hoped it would lead to more, to be the beginning of something, somethingthat it obviously has already begun, but James hasn’t even mentioned it beyond that first dayon the porch. Instead now he’s acting as though that conversation neverhappened. Silver is obstinately keeping his distance as though his desire forsomething might cause the temporary truce between them to rupture, if there evenis a truce.

“We’re going to be on this ship for nearly a month more.”Thomas points out. “One of you will have to eventually give in and speak toeach other.”

Silver turns his head and gazes back at him, amusement in his eyes. “If you thinkwe’re not capable of keeping this silence up for the entirety of the voyage, thenyou severely underestimate the both of us.”

Why is he drawn so tostubborn irascible men? Thomas rubs his temples. It doesn’t solve the achegrowing there.

“The both of you are ridiculous.” He takes a book from his bag under the bunk and stretchesout with it.

Silver sighs. “I know.”

                                                        *  *  *

There’s a brisk step in the corridor and Flint enters thecabin, closing the door a little harder than necessary.

Thomas looks up from the page immediately. “What is it?”

“There’s…a ship sighted off to the west.” James mutters.“The captain wanted all passengers to go below.” From the way he’s shiftingrestlessly this way and that, Thomas knows he’s not happy with the order.

“Pirate?” Silver swings his leg over to sit up, facingJames.

“They don’t know yet.” James answers curtly. He paces the tinyroom, hands clenched at his side.

“So we stay down here and then what?” Thomas asks. Hedoesn’t miss the look exchanged between James and Silver. It’s one of sharedanticipation, of readiness.

And in that instance Thomas has an idea of what it will taketo join them together once more. Something of their shared history, somethingthey could fight side by side. Of course he wishes a pirate attack wouldn’t bethe cause of reconciliation, but if that’s what it takes, Thomas could livewith that.

James merely goes over to his bunk. He reaches into his bag anddraws out his pistol.

Thomas straightens up. “James.”

“I’m not letting a pirate ship get in within a hundred years of thisvessel.” James says, checking his pistol.

Silver pushes himself to his feet. “I’m going too.”

“You’ll stay exactly where you are.” James orders, without looking at him.

Silver stares at him incredulously. “What?”

“You’re staying the fuck below deck.” James then draws adagger from his bag as well.

“Just how many weapons do you have stashed in there?” Thomasinquires. It makes sense to protect themselves, but this seems somewhatextreme. “You don’t even know for certain that it’s a pirate ship.”

“If you think I’m staying down here while you,” Silverbegins.

“You’re staying down here with Thomas.” James cuts him off.“And that’s a fucking order. I need the both of you to be safe.”

Without another word he stalks out of the cabin, closing thedoor behind him.

Silver stares after him. “The fuck did he say that for?”

Thomas has his own idea, but he keeps it to himself,especially as he heard what Silver has not. The sound of the bolt being slidhome. His heart sinks.

“Fuck that.” Silver grabs his own pistol and heads for thedoor. He reaches for the handle. It doesn’t budge. He tries it again, but there’s no give. 

Silver stares at it in disbelief. “He locked us in. He fucking locked us in.” He swings aroundto stare accusingly at Thomas. “Did you hear me?”

“I believe he thought that was the only way we’d heed hiswishes.” Thomas says carefully. There’s a pang in his chest at what James has done, why he’s done it, what Silver doesn’t see yet.

Silver raises his arm to pound on the door. “You bastard,let us out!”

The noise is lost in the whistle and boom from up on deck.

Thomas pales at the sound of cannon fire. James is up there and while he was aformidable pirate, they have been living in relative peace and calm for sixmonths now. Anything could happen. He goes over to the porthole, trying to seeanything, but there’s no view, just the broad open sea.

“Damn him.”

Silver slumps against the door. “I’m going to fucking killhim.”

At the moment Thomas finds himself in agreement with Silver.

                                                        *  *  *

It feels like forever before the cannon fire finally fades and there’s silence up above. At last there’s footsteps in the corridor again. The bolt is slowly undone. By thistime Silver has moved to sit on his bunk, facing the door, waiting. Thomasleans against the wall, his arms folded tightly across his chest, also watchingthe door.

It opens and James enters. There’s smoke and gunpowder on his face, but nosign of blood or injury. Thomas’s heart settles safely in place within hischest, beating in time again. And then the anger rises up, fresh and hot atwhat James had done.

James looks at the both of them and closes the door behindhim. “I know you’re angry.” He begins.

Silver surges upright. “What gives you the fucking right?”

“I thought it was only fair.” James says coolly. “Medeciding your fate for once.”

Silver swings at him and James catches his fist, shoving himback hard.

Silver stumbles, bracing himself with his crutch. When helooks up, his eyes are murderous. “Don’t you dare compare that to this.”

“Don’t speak of that!”James shouts back. “You fucking shit.”

“You had no fucking right.” Silver hisses, moving forwardagain.

“Stop this at once, the both of you.” Thomas’s voice cuts sharplythrough the melee and they both freeze.

“John.” Thomas starts with him. “While James no doubt has avalid point, that’s something the two of you will need to discuss, as you haveneeded to discuss it since starting this voyage. You will have that conversation sooner rather than latter. And as foryou,” He turns to look at James with furious eyes. “Whatever is between the two of you, it does not giveyou the right to decide what to do. For him, or for me. Is that understood?”

“Thomas…”

“Is that understood?” Thomas’s voice rings out imperious andcommanding. It’s the voice of his past, that long ago life in London. He hasn’tspoken like that in years and James stiffens, as he always does when he hearsit.

Without a word he turns and leaves the cabin.

“Shit.” Thomas says succinctly. He leaves Silver there forthe moment and goes after him.

                                                       *  *  *

“James, James.”Thomas comes up to him by the railing. He takes a breath, looking around tomake sure there’s none of the crew around to listen to them. 

He gets a look atthe deck.

The guns were used, Thomas knows that, but no one is dead,from what he can see. Still, the disorder as the sailors set everything  on the ship back torights, make him wince. 

He turns his attention back to James. “I’m sorry. Ishouldn’t have spoken to you like that.” He had never held his rank over James,not intentionally.

“You’re apologizing to me after what I did?” James saysquietly.

“One action doesn’t negate the necessity of an apology foranother.” Thomas says just as quietly. He turns his own gaze out to the grayquiet sea. “For the last ten years, other people decided my fate every singleday. What I ate, when I slept, when I worked. Long before that my actions weredictated by my father. I can’t have that anymore, James. I can’t. Even if it’s for my own good, I have to make those decisions formyself. Can you understand that?”

“Of course I can.” James bursts out vehemently. “I’m sorry.I’m so sorry, Thomas. I never…meant to. I don’t know what happened. The thoughtof an attack just overcame any rational thought. I couldn’t bear the thought of anythinghappening to you and Silver.”

The pang hits Thomas again, and he knows in that moment whatJames himself knows, but hasn’t admitted aloud, what Silver is refusing to even acknowledge.One of them will break, and he just hopes it won’t be irreparable when ithappens.

James shudders softly. He reaches blindly for Thomas, fisting ahandful of his shirt. “I need you.”

“James.” They’re on deck, and it’s hardly the place, nor thetime. The ship isn’t convenient. None of this is convenient. But the look inJames’s eyes lights a fire in Thomas, a fire that he doesn’t want to extinguish.He’s tired of hiding, of having to think first before acting.  

“Come with me.” He draws James down below deck. They make it down to the corridor where James kisses the back of his neck with feverish need,causing Thomas to shiver with want.

Anyone could see them, anyone could come below, and theywould be caught. “We have to get inside.”

He shoves the door to the cabin open, dragging James insidewith him and pauses at the sight of Silver who’s still sitting there, looking at him.

“James.” Thomas hesitates.

James’s hand grips his shirt so tightly Thomas feels therasp of James’s nails against his skin. “Let him see.” He says roughly, and kissesThomas, pushing him up against the door and bolting it from the inside.

Thomas moans into his mouth. “James.” Is this really fair toSilver?

He turns his face and meets Silver’s gaze, searching forsome sign that Silver is all right with this happening. There’s a burning intensity inSilver’s eyes as he looks at them. He gives Thomas a barely imperceptible nod.So Thomas goes ahead, reaching for James’s breeches and underclothes, pushingthem down to his thighs.

James groans, leaning against him, his cock pressing against Thomas’s clothed groin. “I want you inside me.” He whispers into Thomas’s ear.

Silver draws in a sharp breath.

Thomas grips his bare ass hard. “What happened up there?” Heasks.

“You want to know that now?” James groans again as Thomas’sfingers slide along the cleft of his ass.

“Yes.” It’s Silver who answers and James turns his head tolook sharply at him.

He looks back at Thomas for confirmation.

“You heard him.” Thomas says. He presses the tip of hisforefinger against James’s hole. “So tell us.”

“I convinced the captain he needed to frighten off the shipbefore they got too close.” There’s a hitch in James’s breath as the pad of Thomas’s finger rubs him just there. “And it worked.”

Thomas presses James up against the cabin wall, spreadinghis thighs as he searches for something, anything.

“There’s oil in my pack.” Silver mutters.

James eyes him over Thomas’s shoulder. “Fetch it.”

Silver gets out the oil and brings it over to him. His handbrushes James’s, fingertips to fingertips, and then he moves away, back to his bunk.

“Spread your legs and continue.” Thomas says as he slickshis finger.

“I said it worked. That’s all.” James murmurs as Thomas easeshis finger into him once more.

“He let you command his men, didn’t he?” Silver leansforward, waiting for James’s answer.

“Y-yes.” James manages as Thomas eases nearly his entirefinger straight up to the knuckle inside him.

“And how did that feel?” Silver asks casually, as though he already knows the answer.

“We’re alive, aren’t we?” James retorts and then gasps asThomas adds a second finger.

Silver just smiles. “You’ve missed it, haven’t you?”

“Shut up.” James says. “Thomas. Now.”

“Turn around and face the wall then.” Thomas removes hisfingers and straightens up, tugging his own breeches down in his haste. He slickshis cock and positions himself between James’s legs.

He thrusts into James with a faint gasp, trying to make nonoise, but unable to hold back entirely. James reaches over his shoulder to grasp Thomas by the side of the neck,turning his head so that he can reach Thomas’s mouth.

Thomas grips his hips moving faster, rutting into him. It’srough and too fast, he wants to slow it down, but James needs this and if he’shonest, he needs it too. There will be time for taking it slow. Another day.Now there’s just this.

And then James turns his head to gaze directly at Silver. “Thisis why you reunited us. Admit it.” James punctuates his words with pressing hiships back against Thomas’s cock. “This. Is.Why.”

“Yes.” Silver’s eyes glitter with savage satisfaction. “Itis.” He’s not remotely apologetic or penitent about it. 

James gasps as Thomas slides nearly all the way out and thenback inside, hot and quick and rough. He’s moving faster now, making James pant with eachthrust. Then Thomas reaches around to wrap a hand around James.

“Did you enjoy it?”

“I was fucking worried.” James’s head sinks between hispalms as he braces himself against the wall with both hands.

“I know.” Thomas says softly, still moving in him. “Did you enjoyit?”

James shudders. He risks another look at Silver who justsmirks at him. “Yes.” He admits at last.

Thomas fists his cock harder and James comes helpless andgasping, shooting over Thomas’s curled fingers.

Thomas kisses the back of his neck as he finishes, tastingJames’s sweat, burying his nose in James’s hair.

They lean against each other, steadying each other in their arms and then Thomas eases out ofhim.

James turns andgrasps his face, kissing him thoroughly, his tongue entreating Thomas for moreand then he draws back. There’s a sated, tranquil look to his eyes that Thomasloves.

“Thank you.” James strokes his thumb along Thomas’s cheek.He smiles as he draws up his breeches.

Thomas gives him a smile in return. He starts to draw up hisown breeches and then pauses as he notices James inching towards the door. “Oh, no youdon’t.”

“I just need some fresh air.” James mutters. “That’s all.”

“Tell him.” Thomas insists, standing there still half nude,his hands on his hips. “Tell him what you told me, what you said in this bloodycabin before you locked us in.” Tell himso he understands, damn you, James. He let that just happen because Silverwas all right with it, but he’ll be damned if he lets this continue to simmerbetween the two of them.

James sighs, but his shoulders slump slightly in acceptance of the fact that this can’t go on. “I did it because I couldn’t bear to think of anything happening to you, eitherof you.” He lets that settle in the air as he gazes straight at Silver.

“Yes you said that,” Silver pauses as he thinks about it, really thinks about it. Hiseyes widen a little and James licks his lips apprehensively. Silver looks atThomas for a long moment, and then back at James. “That’s certainly a weird way to say I loveyou.” He says finally.

There’s a challenge there, daring James to confront him, todeny it, to pretend that isn’t why.

James straightens his shoulders and juts his chin up.“No stranger than exiling me to reunite me with Thomas.” Hecounters.

Silver’s smile is serene, but his eyes are faintly pained. “Perhapswe need to work on it.” He murmurs. He glances at Thomas, his expression alittle more tentatively hopeful now. “That night in the cabin…” His eyes dart back toJames, waiting to see what Thomas will say.

“…would have been perfect if James had been there.” Thomasfinishes. He’s growing more attuned to Silver’s thoughts, anticipating thepaths they will take.

Silver nods, his eyes calming in relief.  

Thomas sighs. “I’m exhausted. I need some sleep.”

“It’s the middle of the afternoon.” James points out.

“And we have at least two hours till it’s time for dinner.”Thomas says. He doesn’t have energy for anything more right now. He reaches for the blankets from each of their bunks, as well as theircloaks. James watches him as he builds a makeshift bed on the floor.

Thomas glances up at James. “Come on.”

With a sigh James sits down beside him, but Silver remains where he ison the bunk. “You too.” Thomas says, patting the blankets between him and James.

“Are you sure?” Silver asks.

“Just come down here already.” James sounds faintly irritableand Thomas is about to remind him to be polite when he sees how Silver’s already sliding off the bunk in response. 

Thomas lies with his back against the wall, settling Silverbetween him and James. This, for right now, feels right. Silver shifts his positionslightly, his back towards James, facing Thomas.

Thomas closes his eyes. Suddenly he’s very tired. He doesn’twant to think of what could have happened if the pirates had decided to attackinstead of retreat. He doesn’t want to consider all the ways this day couldhave ended.

James hesitates, and then he moves closer, his hand restingon Silver’s thigh as though he’s testing the waters. “I know we need to speak,but can we let that wait till tomorrow?”

“I can live with that.” Silver exhales.

He gazes at Thomas lying there, looking so peaceful.

“I’m still not happy with France.” Silver mutters.

“Too bad.” James murmurs. His thumb strokes gently overSilver’s thigh, just the slightest motion of touch.

“You still haven’t kissed me.” Silver points out. “I don’tthink you get to say anything more until you do.”

“Is that right?” James murmurs.

Thomas sighs. “James, for the love of god, just kiss him.”

“Or what?”

“Or I will.” Thomas curls a hand over Silver’s stomachwithout opening his eyes.

James chuckles, and for that Thomas opens his eyes. He liesthere, watching as James leans over Silver, cupping his jaw in his hand, Silvergazing up at him with bare hopeful want in his eyes.

James doesn’t speak, he merely lowers his mouth to Silver’s,a slow entreaty of a kiss, that has no need of persuasion as Silver’s lips part with equal desire and his hand reaches up to curve along James’s back.

Thomas smiles and closes his eyes again.

Yes, he decides his original assessment was correct. This voyagewill prove interesting indeed. He was also correct in it being a new beginning, for all three ofthem.