30, She/her. Used to be DreamingPagan a long time back. Multi-fandom, mostly Black Sails these days but with a lot of Tolkien and funny things interspersed. Complete language and history nerd - be warned. I write fic and occasionally I talk about ships.
He is not beyond saving; he is not beyond our reach.
Prompt: AU with happy ending for Flint, Miranda and Thomas.
They don’t get to him in time, exactly- it takes three days. But they get to him before the worst can happen.
We must do this carefully, Miranda insists, pressing her hand to James’ chest to calm him. You’re one man, James, she tells him. If you rush in there and draw your sword not a single one of us will make it out of London alive. Then she says: I have another way. James scoffs at her, disbelieving and scornful of the idea that anything less than brutal violence is an option now. But he listens. Together they smooth out her plan until it sounds like something they might pull off.
Corrupt men, Miranda remarks bitterly, ransacking the house for the most valuable things in it, can always be bought. One only needs to offer a higher price. And she charms their way into a carriage, into Bethlem, and then she bribes Thomas’ way out of it, and James has promised not to fight but he knows that if she fails he will go in there and wreak havoc.
She doesn’t fail.
When she emerges from that hell she isn’t smiling but there’s a ferocity in her eyes James has never seen before, a gleam that says: We prevail. Beside her Thomas is pale and shaken but free and alive. They don’t have time for a reunion. Thomas is furious with their recklessness – James can see it in his clenched jaw and wet eyes – but he doesn’t ask questions, doesn’t point out how many things could have gone wrong, how many still could. None of them are willing to indulge in the luxury of terror until they’ve seen this hell through.
With night falling it’s too late for them to head to the port, and even if they did, Thomas would be recognised. Instead they head north, out of London, and with nothing left to bribe with they cannot rely on the corruption of men anymore to keep them safe during the week-long journey to the border. Instead they rely on the kindness of strangers. James seems to know instinctively who to trust and who to pass by, and time and time again people risk themselves to help them, or at the very least point them in the right direction. Time and time again Thomas thinks: this is a miracle. Then he corrects himself: miracles are God-given. This we formed with our own fallen dust and flesh.
They cross the border into Scotland on horseback, exhausted, ragged and desperate. Thomas says: I think I would have died in there. His beloveds, glancing at one another, say nothing.
again – a reminder that I’m on pillowfort.io as flintsredhair when the site comes back up after security maintenance. I’m also on Twitter as @barlowwitch and I’ve been cross-posting my content to there
The long braids of her hair, dark and tight and filled with the sweet scent of oil, and the curves of her hips and breasts followed Charles into his dreams – he saw her cross the deck of the Ranger in his mind, turning to him with dark eyes so bright he felt himself almost become a pane of glass, all his flaws and failures laid bare before her, only to be dismissed as she touched his cheek with her hand…
He woke with sweat on his forehead, his chest heavy as the woman at his side sighed heavily in her sleep, the knowledge of payment and safety letting her sleep deeply by the side of one of the most feared men in the Bahamas.
Charles took a lock of his own hair in hand and toyed with it, twirling it around his finger and picturing the princess’ face in his mind as he closed his eyes again; her eyes seemed to swim into his thoughts again, this time warm and welcoming as she opened her arms to him and beckoned him back to sleep.
Ok so, since Tumblr is being an over protective Christian mother int he worse possible ‘Carrie’ sort of way, I’m going to ask that ya’ll reblog and spread the word about your favorite writers and artists again. Likes are nice, but reblogging is way better. And with the way things are and tags and searches being literally nonexistence, we need you so much! I know activity has gone way, way down for me and other writers and artists, and now, it’s gotten so much worse. Tumblr has literally fucked up being able to search for anything at all. Your reblogs mater and are so important. If you want to keep seeing content from us, please, for the love of god, reblog. I hate asking this, but it means the world to me to be able to keep creating here. If Tumblr keeps fucking up then a lot of your fvaorite artists and writers may move elsewhere. Hopefully Tumblr will get everyone back to working order soon, but for now, YOU are the most important thing to us creators.
Agreed. Nobody likes or wants to guilt trip but the reality is that, especially if you create mature content or content that could be deemed risky (such as LGBT content) most specifically to advertisers, creators need help in getting their works out there because as we are seeing in real time the built in tools of the system are falling to pieces. Algorithm, what algorithm?! Thus we rely on others to reblog, moreso now than normal (and we already rely on them a lot) to gain exposure and, in the case of those of us who are selling art, pay the bills. It’s why I constantly re-reblog my work: I love making art but as a creator love isn’t eyes on my work or money in my pocket or food in my stomach.
So please consider, if you like someone’s work, reblog it–it goes a long way.
Meg's Mumbles 