neversurfacedagain:

Miranda is a v important character within the show as an anchor for James – as a reminder of the life he used to know before he became Flint.

I love me some domestic!Miranda – I love the idea of this woman from upper society having to make a life for herself in practical nowhere, learning how to cook and clean and sew (both clothing and wounds). I love Miranda’s story.

But honestly I keep thinking about the idea of her in Flint’s position. I wonder at the idea that she is just as capable of doing what Flint is. She’s enraged, but at the same time is impotent – as a woman, she doesn’t have the easy outlet of physical violence that James does.

Then they come to Nassau. At first she thinks she might like the idea of domesticity, of creating somewhere quiet and soft for herself in this world of violence. But Flint comes back more changed with every trip, and the people of the inland community scorn Miranda for her living alone and unmarried, no children, no place in society.

Miranda left to stew in her anger, her rage and grief and frustration. This isn’t a life. This is loneliness and suffering while James exorcises his demons in blood.

Miranda will not sit quietly in domesticity and let Flint do it all by himself. She will carry Thomas’ plans out with him – one last thing for her husband in death, if she couldn’t save him in life.

Let Miranda kill Alfred Hamilton. Let her find him and only agree to tell James if he promises to bring her with him to do the deed.

“You were not the only one wronged by that man.” She spits, venom on her tongue and fire in her eyes. “If you leave me behind again James McGraw, I swear to God I will never forgive you.”

She cuts her hair and disguises herself, morphs into the crew. When the time comes, James hands over the blade and Miranda takes a deep breath before she plunges it into Alfred’s belly. It sinks in so much easier than she expected. The blood is bright and stains the edges of the wound, spreads into the surrounding cloth of Alfred’s shirt. James kills the woman Alfred was traveling with. Miranda watches the light fade from Alfred’s eyes and feels a weight lifted, feels a thrill and wonders at it – no wonder this is what keeps James from going mad with grief. Hold tight to anger, hold tight to bloodshed, and there isn’t room for the rest.

Give me Miranda embracing her other-ness and being the witch everyone sees her as. Give me dark!Miranda, just as capable as James. Let her have the same power, because his rage and his grief are hers as well.

That line “if you need your monster”, but applied to Miranda. You want a witch? Bitch fine, I’ll be your witch.

Go full-blown magic!AU. Miranda turning her rage into something physical, a palpable power within her. Flint is not the conjurer of storms – Miranda is. The very sea answers her call. Flint is annointed with blood. The ship is cristened in spells and incantations. The books are inscribed with runes and every drop of blood Flint’s sword spills makes him stronger – makes Miranda stronger. Together, they are unstoppable.