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LellyBelly

@lelly-belly / lelly-belly.tumblr.com

She/her, pls call me Lelly bc everytime someone does, my brain does the happy. I write a lot, though it might not look like it yet. I'm not yet completely familiar with Tumblr, so bare with me. A lot of my writing includes depressed gay people with a lot of issues. Maybe one of these days I'll figure out how to get my shit together and actually write a complete story. My asks are open btw, if you have something you wanna ask me (like how I got to be THIS cool :D) or if you wanna be added to a taglist or even something else, don't hesitate! Tell me, and hopefully I'll see it :)

Masterpost!

***ASK BOX IS OPEN PLEASE SEND ME ANYTHING: PROMPTS, QUESTIONS, JOKES, ETC (I AM DESPERATE FOR ATTENTION)***

...I suppose its time to do what so many have done before me...

Make an intro post! 

Hi, hello, welcome. 

I’m LellyBelly (but you can just call me Lelly :D)

I use she/her pronouns

My favorite color is green

My favorite animal is an axolotl (of course) 

And I write. a lot. Well, I used to, but now I seem to lack motivation and desire to write full stories. 

But fear not! For this blog exists for a reason!

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“We hope this email finds you well” babe, the only emails I hope find me well are the ones from Archive of Our Own

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How to show emotions

Part V

How to show grief

  • a vacant look
  • slack facial expressions
  • shaky hands
  • trembling lips
  • swallowing
  • struggling to breathe
  • tears rolling down their cheeks

How to show fondness

  • smiling with their mouth and their eyes
  • softening their features
  • cannot keep their eyes off of the object of their fondness
  • sometimes pouting the lips a bit
  • reaching out, wanting to touch them

How to show envy

  • narrowing their eyes
  • rolling their eyes
  • raising their eyebrows
  • grinding their teeth
  • tightening jaw
  • chin poking out
  • pouting their lips
  • forced smiling
  • crossing arms
  • shifting their gaze
  • clenching their fists
  • tensing their muscles
  • then becoming restless/fidgeting
  • swallowing hard
  • stiffening
  • holding their breath
  • blinking rapidly
  • exhaling sharply

How to show regret

  • scrubbing a hand over the face
  • sighing heavily
  • downturned mouth
  • slightly bending over
  • shoulders hanging low
  • hands falling to the sides
  • a pained expression
  • heavy eyes
  • staring down at their feet

If you like my blog and want to support me, you can buy me a coffee or become a member! And check out my Instagram! 🥰

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What up, whump fam?!

June of Doom 2024 Prompts!

We've brought back some old favorites/ popular prompts from last year with a healthy dash of new!

Please feel free to participate with original or fan works of any kind (writing, photos, gifs, mood boards, videos, songs, whatever creative medium your heart desires!). You can do one or all of the prompts on any given day, and if none are to your liking, check out the alternate prompts!

Two rules this year!

  1. As with last year, tag your stuff with appropriate warnings, plzkthnx.
  2. AI-created content is highly discouraged and frowned upon. I have no way of "checking", but I respect the time and effort people put into their crafts and encourage everyone to do the same. This isn't a contest for best written or prettiest art — it's a challenge, so challenge yourself.

Text list below the cut for easier crossings-off. And don't forget to tag @juneofdoom so I can reblog your awesome here! Have fun!

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Captured- 59- Choices

This is part of a series! Masterlist here.

Made possible with writing from @whumpqhs and @adarhysenthe

TW: Religion discussed, captivity discussed, painful relationship with family discussed. Nonsexual bathing nudity happening.

Alsander and Tristan made their way to a lower level of the Temple of Torm, where hot water was fed in from the springs that roiled deep under much of Lanica city.

The baths were a chain of arch vaulted rooms, tiled in cream and pale yellow, and well lit with lamps. The different pools varied in temperature from one side to another, allowing one to choose for comfort or preference. Benches stood here and there around the pools, in water resistant waxed hardwood, simple but elegant.

Tristan undressed, leaving his clothes neatly folded on a bench, and then made to help San if he needed it.

 Alsander accepted his arm for getting into the water, and sighed as he sank into the heat. “Ohhh, this was a good idea…"

I just can’t get over the dialogue. it sounds so...idk human? mine always feels stilted and boring but when I read other people’s its always so full of life and engaging. I can’t wait for the next update!

Whumpuary No. 9 Magic Healing

hello! Of course the moment I say I’m going to get some writing in, my dad passes and I catch Covid. yayyy. enjoy what will likely be my last entry into whumpuary because I am legit so sick rn its not even funny. 

I dont think I’ve written about Cassius and Clifton before on here, but theyre my two most recent additions to my collection of gay people being whumped. I’m still having trouble writing fantasy. it definitely takes some getting used to. this one’s short and sweet. enjoy!

“Gods, what the hell was that thing?!” Clifton screeched, clutching his side. 

“A manticore,” Cassius answered. “And it'll be back. It can probably smell your blood. Let me see where it got you.” Clifton shifted and removed his hand. The injury was truly disgusting to Cassius, even though it was only a graze. Blood flowed onto the ground as Cassius took a cloth from his bag, poured water from his flask on it, and cleaned the blood up. As he wiped, more blood flowed. He resolved to placing the cloth on the wound. 

“I don't normally do this, but I can heal the wound. Its going to hurt, though.” 

Clifton sighed. “How bad will it hurt?”

“Itll hurt like the manticore got you with its poisonous tail.” 

“Do I have a choice?”

Cassius shrugged. “Kinda yeah. I can bandage it and hope for the best, or I can heal it and you’ll feel pain for like five seconds.” Clifton thought about it for a moment. 

“Will you hold my hand?” he asked quietly. Cassius suppressed a sigh. It really was like talking to a child. 

“If that will make you feel better, yes.” 

“Okay then. Lets do this.” Cassius nodded, extending his hand to Clifton. Of course, Clifton put his blood soaked hand onto Cassius’ clean one. He almost gagged. The blood was squelching between their hands, slipping and sliding his hand in Clifton’s grip. Cassius felt faint. He focused on the wound, which also made him want to faint. He removed the cloth and pressed his bare hand to the wound. Clifton shivered. Cassius took a deep breath and whispered the incantation. 

Pale golden light flowed from his hand as Clifton braced, but the pain didn't come. The wound just healed itself until all that was left was a thin scar. “Hey, I don't thin--” and then the pain hit. It was like a wall of shocks shooting from his wound up through his body as it violently shook. He clutched Cassius’ hand as if his life depended on it. The moment it had started, however, it had stopped. 

“Holy mother of Toph that hurt,” Clifton cried. 

Cassius’ face burned with embarrassment. “Sorry I forgot to tell you it happened at the end, not throughout.” Clifton looked up at him with tears in his eyes. 

“Would've been a good thing to tell a man beforehand.” 

“That much pain was me only healing the skin too, so you’re lucky it was just a graze or it would've hurt a lot more.” 

“More?! How in the world could it have hurt more?”

“Believe me, it can get a lot worse. Hopefully you won't need to experience that.” 

“Right.” 

“Lets get out of here before the beast comes back.” 

All I'm saying is, if a fic refers to characters by their physical attributes instead of their names or pronouns ("he smiled at the older" "the blonde laughed") when we know who the character is, and ESPECIALLY if the descriptions include "ravenette" or "cyanette" or other ridiculous words--

I'm clicking out of that fic so fast my AO3 history won't even register I've been there.

I am glad you asked. :D

First, if a writer is using the characters' names every sentence -- they're already off to a bad start. Not every sentence needs to clarify which character it applies to, unless you're writing a "See Jane Run" book, lol.

Overall a good rule of thumb is a) don't repeat unnecessary information, and b) only write things that carry the scene.

So for starters, your readers should know who's in the scene, and you can trust them to have at least a little bit of intuition: not every bit of dialog needs to have a tag ("he said/she whispered" etc.) Now, that established: you do use names when doing otherwise would leave it unclear who's doing or saying things. Example:

George grabbed the lid off the pot. "Dang, that's hot!"
Laughing, Sean passed him a bowl. "Just pour the soup, moron."
"You're a moron."
"Says the guy who just grabbed the lid off a boiling pot."
Sticking his tongue out, George filled the first bowl.

It's clear who says what, and if we had just used "he" it wouldn't have been, but we also didn't have to dialog-tag every line. (ALSO. "Said" is not a bad word. Ignore all advice that tells you never to use "said." "Said" is an invisible word and unless you're putting a dialog tag on every line [which you Do Not Need To Do] people won't even notice it. Unlike "shrieked," "whispered," "hissed," "ranted," "whined," etc. Use those words when they'll have punch and impact. Not every dang line.)

But this isn't always how it needs to go.

For example. Let's say I'm writing about a strawberry-blonde elf named Diana and a human bard with black hair named Jerome. I could say:

Diana leaped to her feet, looking excitedly at the ravenette. "Jerome!" Diane said. "This is our chance!"
Jerome smiled at the strawberry-blonde. "Indeed," he replied.

Okay there are.... several issues here. First off, we don't need to clarify that Diana said the thing after we had her doing an action. Trust your readers! They'll know that a "she" here logically refers to Diane, as they know that "he replied" refers to Jerome.

Next, please strike "referring to characters by eye or hair color" from any lists. This is not good. It's not relevant 99% of the time (we'll get to exceptions in a moment) and also, pet peeve: "ravenette" does not mean black-haired. If you've gotta say it, just say black-haired. Ravenette means "a raven, diminuative" or maaaaaaybe "like a raven." Unless you're imitating an 1800s gothic poet, don't do this.

Physical descriptions used as character indicators/pseudo pronouns are clunky and take up space without telling us anything new. They distance the reader from the character by taking us out of the story and back into exposition land, and they generally repeat information we already know. We can tell our readers in chapter one that Diana has strawberry-blonde hair, and then we don't need to refer to her as "the strawberry-blonde" a hundred more times because our readers already know this. Just call her Diana. Or "she." (Unless it's relevant to the moment -- if she's not our POV character and we need to contrast her to, say, a black-haired beauty at the ball through someone else's eyes, that's one thing. But still, don't continually refer to her by something as shallow as her hair color.)

Exception: visual descriptions are valid to use as character-indicators when we or the characters do not know who that person is. For example, if Diana had been kidnapped by bandits.

She glared at the taller of the two men, who appeared to be some kind of leader. "What do you want?" she spat.
He leered at her, and nudged the filthy blond man at his side. "Ain't she cute," he said. "I like elves. All feisty, they are."
The blond looked uncomfortable. "Whatever you say, Gorm."

Ooooh look! Now we know the boss-man's name. From here on out, we probably should refer to him as either "Gorm" or "the bandit leader" -- not "the tall man" (and never just "the taller." Or "the older," "the younger," etc. That's a side note, but a lot of fics do that too. If you're going to use a comparative adjective, you at least still have to tell us what noun it refers to.)

Also -- did you notice how we never said Diana's name there either? She's the viewpoint character, so unless another person comes along that we need to clarify with, we can usually get away with just saying "she." The reader knows who they're reading about.

When you DO have two or more characters with the same pronouns in a scene, you gotta get creative. Again, readers are intuitive -- they can follow pretty well who's doing what as long as you make it clear. Generally speaking, if you establish which character is doing the thing, you can then use just the pronoun until you switch to a new character. For example:

Diana took the proffered knife. "Thanks," she said. "I was starting to get tired of the stink."
The mysterious rescuer smiled. "No problem," she said. "I'm Peony, by the way." She offered Diana her hand. "Let's grab some horses before the bandits wake up, and we'll get back to Jerome before morning."
"Jerome sent you?" Diana stood, dusting herself off. She wrinkled her nose at the mud stains on her pants, and resolved to buy new ones next time they found a decent tailor.
"Oh, Jerome and I go way back." Peony winked. Sweeping her hair out of her eyes, she motioned toward the horses. "After you."

There's never a confusion that Peony offers Diana her own hand -- not somehow Diana's hand. We don't question that Diana is the one wrinkling her nose, or that they're her pants and not Peony's. Or that Peony sweeps her own hair out of her own eyes. Sometimes you'll have lines where it's a little more confusing, but if it feels awkward in the sentence, always consider if you can re-structure it another way. Like,

Diana kicked her horse into a gallop, heart beating in her chest. "Hold on!" she shouted. Peony cast her a panicked glance, tightening her hold on the rampaging oliphant's saddle. Diana reached for her, grabbing the back of her tunic and yanking her down onto her horse.

Okay, that last line there? That one gets confusing, with all those "her"s. We COULD change it to "Diana reached for her, grabbing the back of Peony's tunic and yanking her down onto the horse." That takes care of a lot of them. Or, we could improve things even further by breaking apart the action, elaborating on things, and just generally stretching out the words so that it's clearer which "she/her" is being referenced at any given time. It's your story! Take advantage of all the room you've got -- there will never be a time when you simply cannot rearrange things to make it clearer for your readers.

It does takes effort. And sometimes a bit of verbal slight of hand. You may have to restructure sentences to avoid repetitive phrases and give yourself a good pace. (That's a large part of rewriting and editing.)

However, like the word "said," pronouns are invisible words. Names are not -- they jump out and say HI THIS IS ME. Use them sparingly -- they have power.

One final exception! Fantasy race and job titles. Again, you don't do this with your POV characters unless you're trying to remind the readers of something, but it IS acceptable to sometimes refer to, say, "the elf," or "the detective," or "the werewolf," or "the duke." Use them sparingly, but this is one exception -- mainly because it tells/reminds us of an important fact about the character. (You might also use, say, "her older sister," or "his father," etc, because that also communicates information about the characters and who they are to each other. But. Again. Use sparingly.)

...okay, I've rambled enough, but hopefully this is somewhat useful/helpful to someone out there.

Again! Read good books! Watch how professional writers do it! Imitate, imitate, imitate! The best writing teachers in the world are good writers.

Happy writing!

wait okay no hold up this says it so much faster and clearer than any of my rambling above: identifying characters by their visual attributes tells us WHAT they are, but not WHO they are.

There. Boom. Short answer. Much clearer, much better. Thank you, tumblr user djtangerine.

yea this is why your exceptions work too! if the narrator only knows a character as “that blond guy” then calling them “the blond guy” isn’t jarring to the reader.

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peasant-notsopleasant-deactivat

Whump introduction

Hi whumpers I uhhhhhhhhh I like whump

(any recommendations on good whump blogs?)

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peasant-notsopleasant-deactivat

I don't know what kind of genres are out there, but I like fantasy settings! But really anything is fine!

@redwingedwhump​ and @befuddled-calico-whump​ both have fantasy setting stories/artwork. I really enjoy all of their work, so they might be a good fit for you. @epiclamer​ is a great follow too. I might as well list out every whump blog on Tumblr, as they’re all great, but those are the main three I’d check out. Happy reading!

Anonymous asked:

"come chat with me on tumblr/twitter" is code for "please locate and use my ko-fi", right? No one actually wants their readers to strike up a conversation outside ao3, do they?

--

I would not assume that at all.

Often, yes, they do have a ko-fi, but a lot of people link to their fucking CuriousCat, and what's that about if not interaction? Many writers do like getting to know others in the fandom.

Plus, AO3 has no DM function. Writers may be anticipating all the things DMs would be useful for—like dropping them a quick note about embarrassing typos without making it a public AO3 comment.

Why wouldn't you want readers to strike up a conversation, anon?

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Anon...what?

I semi-regularly link my tumblr in the end notes of my fic. So do quite a few writers I know. Nearly none of us have ko-fi or any such platform. Abso-fucking-lutely we want people to come talk to us. I met friends whom I've known and loved for a decade because one of us decided to chat about fic and fandom outside Ao3. I've formed countless fleeting but cherished friendships the same way.

I don't know how you're missing the whole "fandom is meant to be a community" thing so hard.

Fandom is meant to be a community

I, too, link my Tumblr under my fics! Not only because I lovelovelove interacting with other fandom people, but some might also be more comfy with leaving an anon message than commenting (even anonymously) on a fic.

The days of small communities from back then is over and we grasp for everything. Do you really think in this time of consumerism, spearheaded by consumerist social media platforms, that we don't crave the interaction that is not simply validation by leaving a like and scrolling on? Fandom stays alive due to interaction between people. If people only consume, consume, consume … fandom will die. It's on the verge of dying already, because of the lack of interaction.

So if you see a Tumblr, Twitter, whatever linked under a fic, please don't assume it's a stepping stone to a platform where the creator wants to get paid. It most likely is exactly what it says on the tin: We want to talk to you.

Lellyyyyy lellylellylelly congratulations on the writing that is to die for. You are practically a superhero when it comes to writing so keep that shiz up. We love it here!!!!! And we’re hungry. For more. Keep going. Pls. <3

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Ahhh, thank you so much! I've been struggling a lot with writing lately (my dad passed in December so I've kind of been unable to write) and when I don't feel confident in my writing I've been staring at this ask, telling myself that a person whose writing I look up to thinks my writing is good. I promise some writing is coming out soon. At least one more Whumpuary prompt and maybe the start of an actual story (????). But seriously, thank you so much for this ask, I've been trying and failing to write anything, and this aided me in ways you don't even know. Thanks, Epiclamer, you're genuinely super cool <3

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Ease up with the Loathing, writers & artists.

The following is going to make most people pronounce me a gigantically self important JERK, because apparently that’s the kneejerk reaction to anyone who doesn’t loathe and depreciate their work constantly

And it’s not addressed to anyone in particular nor is it a “callout” or a start for Drama,

BUT

I do in all frankness have a good gauge of what level of skill I am at with my own writing, the direction I want to go for my style, and where I need to keep improving. Not knowing what I can do would be extremely silly of me. I can see that in some ways I’ve grown a lot and I do pretty decent work. I think some of it is brilliant. I wrote it because I LIKE it. Someday, I hope more of it will be brilliant, if I work on it.

 And I say that

 not because I “brag”

but because I have to keep restating it to myself in the face of the problem whumpblr/writblr has got.

Y’all have GOT to stop constantly loathing yourselves and your work! It’s self-fulfilling, serves no purpose, and you cannot abuse yourself into confidence!

This is so damn prevalent, saturated, that I started to pick it up, when I’d never had much of a problem with it before! I began to doubt my own work, to wonder if secretly lots of people hated it if they hated their own comparable work so much. I began to wonder if I *should* hate my own work and doubt and second-guess and loathe the things I made, that I enjoyed so much.

 I’ve always been pretty happy with things I make, but now I have to restate that fact over and over to myself, or catch whatever it is that leads people to project their inner turmoil onto their work and insult it constantly.

 I’m not saying you can’t have struggles, heaven knows I’ve had more than few, I’m saying I would very much appreciate if people would quit with all this almost-constant unnecessary self deprecation.

It doesn’t make you polite. It doesn’t make you more moral. It doesn’t make you sound humble. And it doesn’t encourage you or other writers. It tears us all down. You and everyone who likes your stuff. “Oh this is garbage, I hate my writing, it’s all trash”  STAAAAAAAAAHP!

If not for the sake of your own view of yourself, stop so that you quit insulting the taste of those who like your work.

YOU! CANNOT! ABUSE! YOURSELF! INTO! CONFIDENCE!

Try maybe saying, instead of “Oh you will all hate this and it’s such garbage” say maybe “This is what I wrote yesterday, I feel a little insecure about some of it but I like other bits, and I can’t resist that one trope. thanks for reading!”

/end old fart rant

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Never: X Marks the Spot

cw: torture, graphic descriptions, talk of death

James was bound again, arms and legs wrapped in thick vines, curled up in the middle of Peter's camp. Not tied to anything, not yet. He didn't need to be. Peter had too many eyes on him to have to worry about that.

The camp was in a mossy clearing, the trees that stood around the open area taller than any he'd ever seen, vines decorating their many branches like lace. And in the center of it all, there was a little pool. Its water was clear, swirling like a lazy river, as if being filled by something unseen, though it didn't spill over.

Peter's fountain.

A reminder of the undeath he'd witnessed on the Merry. A reminder of the impossible situation he was now trapped in.

His tormenter hadn't made a move yet, hadn't held the knife to his flesh, hadn't even touched him after the initial flight here.

Peter liked him weak, he'd figured that out by now. Give it a few days with no food, let the feeling of dread build with each passing minute. Wait until he was desperate, hungry, nearly mad with fear. Then he'd act.

When one of the sailors—a man known only as Green—brought him water on the first night, James tried to refuse it. He was past caring about survival now, all he wanted to do was escape, even if the only escape was dying of thirst. But he couldn't quite fight away when they forced his head back, pried his jaw open, poured it in.

With that option taken from him, he started taunting the other sailors, calling them turncoats, cowards, anything that might goad one of them into an attack. It wasn't long before someone tore off his sleeve and gagged him with it.

For days, all he could do was lay miserable on the ground and watch the goings-on of Peter's camp, the strength he'd worked so hard to recover sapping away slowly.

There only ever seemed to be a few men around at any given time, the others coming and going constantly. Peter himself was hardly seen at all.

With nothing else to do, James spent a lot of time thinking. He hoped against hope that Jeddy and the two others were still alive, unharmed. Maybe even sailing away, back to familiarity. Manning a ship such as the Merry would be a challenge with only three, but he was sure they could manage it.

He'd made peace with his own death by now. It was either that or sink into despair completely. After all, what could he do? Even if he were to escape now, Peter couldn't die anymore. He could never rest. All he had left was the hope that it would be something swift in the end, though he knew that was too much to ask of Peter.

But at least it would end.

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Anonymous asked:

My whump awakening: that scene in Return to Neverland where Peter Pan gets betrayed and captured and his hands are tied behind his back and he's yelling at the main character as he's being dragged away. The DRAMA. The STRUGGLE. The next time we see him he's tied to an anchor and being held at sword point, what else could a whumpy 4yo ask for.

Between this, the Musketeers scene where Mickey drowns, Phillip’s whole capture in Sleeping Beauty, Robin Hood, etc....do you think Disney knew what they were doing? Do you think they knew what they were fostering in our community? I doubt it 😂

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Bro that musketeers scene got me so hard at five omg I completely forgot about it lol

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Never: Steel on Steel

cw: violence, descriptions of blood/gore, death

"I'll be honest, James, I thought I'd seen the last of you."

Peter had touched down on the deck and was now strutting around, the only person aboard who dared to move. His little polished knife was drawn, and he spun it idly between his fingers, as if to remind James it was there.

"Coming back to the ship, too? Exciting. Were you going to steal it?" He laughed. "I've been far from bored here, but if I were, leave it to you to keep things interesting."

"Are you going to kill us?" James asked. He'd had enough of Peter's theatrics. With Jeddy and the others under threat, he couldn't just rush in and attack, and if he were to die without even being able to try, he'd prefer to die before Peter began another soliloquy. 

"Kill you? Hm." Peter tapped his chin with his free hand. "I suppose I could. But I also could not. What do you think? Should I?"

Was this a trap? Another game? If James said no, how long would he—they—suffer for it?

"You're hesitating an awful lot for someone who seems hell-bent on survival," Peter said. "Do you want me to kill you or not?"

"I…" James grit his teeth, clenched his muscles to keep from trembling. The only way out of this would be to draw Peter in. "I want to play a game."

Peter's eyes seemed to light up. "Oh?" His smile grew wider, his hand tightening around the little knife. "What sort of game?"

"A contest. Between you and me. A fight," James said, straightening. A game where he wasn't tied down, where he had a weapon, where he stood a chance.

"A fight!" Peter seemed delighted with the idea, his feet not even touching the deck as he closed the distance between him and James. "If you win you'll want your ship back I suppose. No matter. I've found I like this island quite a lot. I'm not sure I'll ever leave. And if I win–"

"If you win, you live," James said. It felt so good to cut him off. "Did I not mention? This fight will be to the death."

After a moment, a different sort of smile crossed Peter's face. Something dark, something that almost made James regret his words.

"To the death? Alright."

"Feet on the deck," James added quickly. "No flying." He lifted his chin. "To… to keep it interesting." 

Peter nodded, thoughtful. After a moment, he held out his hand for James to shake. Left hand. James thrust forward his hook, undeterred.

"I accept your challenge."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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Never: Do or Die

cw: death mention

After sunset, once stars had begun to scatter across the sky, they set off for the neverland. With only a raft, it would take hours before they reached the cove, but it would be worth it just to see the Merry again. They'd brought their supplies along; fruit and cold cooked fish, the net, Jeddy's endless waterskin and makeshift knife, and a few sharpened sticks.

And one more thing.

"Made this for you," Jeddy had said, handing him something. Metal and wood and leather. "It's a lousy replacement, I know, and I don't think you can put much weight on it, but I'd say it's better than nothin'."

He fiddled with the end of the thing as he sat on the raft, testing the strips of leather that secured it to what remained of his left arm, giving him something that could stand for a hand; a hook.

The remnants of the barrel hoop had been shaped and twisted, held together by wood and hardened by fire and connected to leather that Jeddy must've cut from her own jacket. 

If nothing else, it was almost comforting to have its weight at the end of his arm. Like he could pretend he was whole again.

The air around them grew cooler as the hours passed, the water shining with the gentle light of the moon. Little by little, the shore of the neverland crept closer as their raft bobbed on the waves. And then all of a sudden, there she was. The Scarlet Merry, silent and cloaked in starlight.

James could've wept with joy. She was still here. Their plan could work. He looked over his shoulder and saw Jeddy, staring up at the ship with shining eyes, and he reached down to squeeze her hand. She gave him a nod, determination setting in on her face. Time to act.

They got the raft up to the hull, close enough that he could touch the wooden planks that formed her if he wanted, and Jeddy stood, reaching up to grab onto a gunport. He watched her scale the side nimbly, agile as a cat, then waited, holding his breath until she lowered a rope for him.

Something ached inside him as he took hold of it, a voice that mourned what he'd lost. Once upon a time, he'd have no problem climbing up on his own. He could've even matched Jeddy's ascent.

And Peter had taken that from him.

He wrapped the rope around his hook, seizing it tightly with the other hand and giving it a tug to let Jeddy know he was situated, then simply held on while she slowly, slowly raised him to the deck.

All was quiet as he climbed over the side, no movement aside from Jeddy tying the rope in place in case they needed a quick exit.

Not like they'd manage much of one on the raft. It was do or die now. 

oh my god I love this so much. I don’t even think I started this from the beginning but oh my god it’s PHENOMENAL! I’m actually screaming right now I NEED to know what happens next. Please add me to the tag list I love this so much <3

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