#* meme response.

@emcads said: “ i can't believe i trusted you all this time. ”

“ It was your first mistake to be puttin’ trust in me at all, Cap’n de Sevilla. After all your years spent in the company of self-servin’ pirates ⏤ and bein’ one yourself, I might add ⏤ I thought that perhaps ye might’ve known better. Though, I suppose every man be susceptible to the occasional lapse in judgment. ”

There was an undeniable smugness in his voice as he replied to his guest from his seat at the desk in the captain's cabin. Hector Barbossa was every inch a vainglorious usurper, perched upon his new throne; maps, logs, and piles of leather-bound books sat before him, strewn across the dark wood as evidence of him having rifled through Jack's belongings in the hours following the mutiny. He slowly rose from his chair to regard her, as she stood flanked by a pair of armed members of his traitorous crew.

While he would never say it aloud, he had to admit that it was difficult for him not to feel some remorse over how he intended to dispose of Esmeralda. Not only was she a capable pirate in her own right, but she was also the granddaughter and successor of Don Rafael: a respectable man and captain who had aided him in his time of need and given him passage to Shipwreck Cove so many years ago. 

However, Don Rafael was dead, and Doña Pirata was one of the few remaining obstacles between him and his next prize.

“ It's best not to dwell on what’s already done, ” He swept his arm outward to beckon her further into the room, and gestured towards the wooden table at its center. A decanter of wine sat upon it, along with two glasses and a bowl of various fruits. He was cruel, not inhospitable.  “ ⏤ But I think a parlay be in order. Sit. ”

PROMPTS FOR EXPRESSING DOUBT.

MEME  :  RECOMMEND  ROMANTIC  CANDIDATES  FOR  MY  MUSE  TO  SEE  THEIR  REACTION.

FOUR ARTWORKS THAT REPRESENT YOUR MUSE .

1.  Portrait de Jacques-Germain Soufflot (detail), Charles-André Van Loo  /  2.  John Wilmot, 2nd Earl of Rochester, Jacob Huysmans  /  3.  An Attack On A Galleon, Howard Pyle  /  4.  Banquet Still Life (detail), Adriaen van Utrecht

they are both exhausted from their research. elia can barely keep her eyes open, although she forces herself to keep going, forces herself to read every word as though it may the answer to their problems. it is only when sam takes the book out of her hands that she looks up, surprised, and realizes he has been trying to get her attention for a while (the muffled noise in the background was not just in her head, then). she utters a noise of protest and tries to grab the book, but the attempt feels lazy. they both know that she can't reach that high.

" i can keep going, " elia argues, though the world feels at though it is swirling in front of her. she rises from her chair and starts pulling at his sleeve to lower the book, but sam — not duly impressed — easily shakes her off. " they need this- cas, dean, your family-"

you are my family too. sam's refute stop her short in her tracks. elia can only stare at the man who has saved her in more ways than one, struck dumb. her heart skips a beat, then begins to thunder in her chest. a strange warmth spreads through her veins and warms her stomach. family. it has centuries since she had someone call her that, and here it is, so freely given by a man who has already given her everything. family. twice, elia opens her mouth to say something, and twice words fail her. the third time, she merely steps forward to embrace him, head buried against the flanel of his shirt. " thank you. "

she has been cursed, spat out, rejected, and forgotten. yet the worst of it all, perhaps, has to have been alone. she has wandered this earth for hundreds of years, watching and bonding with humanity only to always lose them — those fragile creatures whose lives were over in the blink of an eye. the loneliness has been grueling. she does not remember at what point she had decided to stop adopting pets and friends, to afraid to have her heart broken again. but then he had found her: prometheus, come earthbound to wander like her, to love these people the way she did. she had soaked up his company as though he was the sun. for the first time in over four thousand years, elia realizes, she has a friend. she has family. and she is no longer alone.

ezekiel was warm, and certain, and confident. he was her solace in the mornings, her comfort in the evenings, her friend as well as lover. she loved him with all her heart, every part of him: his chocolate eyes ever-lit with embers, his bronzed skin, his tousled black hair, as well as his boldness, his humor, his fire. she loved him entirely, wholly, the good and the bad. and she had known, from the start, that while she was a creature made to love, he had been hurt so badly that the words may never escape him again.

yet she knew exactly what he wanted to say to her when he looked at her that morning, head tilted, something akin to apprehension in his eyes. relationships are built on trust, he said, the words almost stuttered. his hand tucked a curl behind her ear, then brushed over her cheek, warm. and i trust you.