A dark cavern, deep under the mountains of Neverlands...the only light the fire that burns in the heart of the forge. A single, twisted dwarf - outcast of fae society for his avarice and cruelty - shaped and crafted at the iron of the burning claw.
In the corner, James - shirtless and cradling the stump of his hand almost unconsciously - sits sleeplessly upon a stool. His pale blue eyes red with exhaustion and yet dark with a need for something more than even his typical act of violence could bring.
The leather harness is brought and equipped. The heated hook is dipped in fairy tears, the sizzle like that of wailing and cries of horror.
James extends his stump, now wrapped in taut leather. The steaming iron claw is brought forth and twisted upon it's end.
His blue eyes gaze along it's cool, smooth curve. For a single of Mother Dove's eggs and a pound of pixie dust, his instrument of empowerment. He sees himself in the reflection of the claw.
The man he saw in that dark mirror was no longer just James, not the royal family of his old life before this realm become his home. He needed a new title, a fitting name for a dread pirate captain...
He drove the metal talon through the dwarf's throat, slicing it open and producing a flower of red. James grinned at the wounded dwarf clutching his throat as the earthen fae tried in vain to breath.
"Captain Hook does have a nice ring to it, don't you think?"
Good Evening Captain, May I ask, how does one deal with depression? (You don't need to answer if you don't want to no pressure)
He’d been staring at the letter so long now his eyes had began to strain. Rubbing them, he took a breath and pulled out his quill out of it’s ink-pot.
Good Evening, Master Dragon,
Apologies for the delay in this letter’s arrival; I confess the question was heavy on my heart when I first opened your letter, for it was one intimate in my immediate circumstances. Life had become Remarkably Melancholic. Ergo, quite painful to exist in. Life’s conditions had become wearisome to bear and had myself considering just how much of this venture I wanted to invest more of my time in.
I wanted to reply to this message in a genuine heart; one that had passed through the storm of depression and come out to tell the tale rather than give some false platitudes about the whole affair.
I also wish to acknowledge the multitude of kinds of depression; some of loss, of grief, of the nature of one’s being, and of the circumstances one is enduring. I don’t know what you or others will struggle with; I can only speak andectollly upon my own natural condition and how I have managed it.
I suppose then I should begin this with a list of how I was able to make it out these dark shadows of the heart.
1. Persistence. This is not the same as patience; patience ask you to wait out a storm. Persistence has you walk through it. I have found that in all forms of depression, persisting in an act of living - in the behaviors, habits, and motions of existence that are or once were genuine to you - to be the fundamental in this adventure.
Simply put, even if you just choosing to breathe and breathe again, you are overcoming depression’s foul grip.
2. All depression, it seems to myself, stems from a disconnect from the emotion of happiness and the current stage of life that one is upon. If finding yourself unhappy, an immediate, grounding technique can be found in asking if you what you lack is truly important to your life, why it’s so valuable in your first place to have, and if such a thing you are immediately lacking - this item that will grant you happiness - is actually in your power to posses.
3. Do not fear depression so much as to let it dictate your every mood. Yes, act upon your fear to avoid it, to partake in the activities that keep the foul shadow at bay, and yet know it is not wholly unnatural or destructive to you. It can serve as a light post to greater issues that affect you.
If you have survived depression once before or are still alive despite it’s current shadow over your heart, then you are all right and meant to live.
Know that winter is apart of our lives, as is summer. Embrace your sadness as an extension of you, and do not put on a happy mask in the hopes of saving harm to others or yourself. If you are to wear a mask, then please consider the next lesson.
4. Seek to move. In the vein of persistence, create a wise and healthy distance between what will invite the shadow over your life and seek to continue or find ways to exist; create art, dance, sing, exercise, go for walks through nature or places of beauty. Join company of friends and loved ones.
This may or will not remove the shadow’s presence, but it will create a space in your heart for light to dwell as well.
5. In all things, finally, seek to listen to your self and your needs. Educate yourself on your condition and how it can be managed. Make a practice of writing or talking to yourself about how you feel. Listen and read what you say. Reflect on it, and begin to pay attention to what you are pay attention to; your needs and wants, your expressions of fear and hope. This can work as just as well with partner as yourself.
I have enclosed all the wisdom I can consider at this point to have to you, Master Dragon, and wish you luck in your journeys in this world. Much of this work is unattractive, but remember that this - and yourself by extension - are not a finished work but a dance in motion. Do not rue the dance for it’s length, but instead find joy in the process of this world and in the processes that make up your soul.
you are the perfect opposite of the hero in most aspects, including your morals. in others, you seem more like their mirror, a twisted reflection. you complement each other. you are the yang to their yin, the moon to their sun. in some other life you could've been friends. fanfiction would say even soulmates. you could say your relationship with them is a little bit fruity. "you and i are not so different after all" you tell the hero... as you're dangling them off the roof. you are evil, after all. you'll probably die very dramatically by their hand but in a very unintentionally homoerotic way, so it's a win some, lose some kind of situation
tagged by: @murroyilodel (thank you!)
tagging: @faerierosa @nononsenselady @sonofvarian @streetwisetemptress @quitethepirategal @floreatetona @waitlifted @wonderlcndtea @sultansdaughter and anyone else I forgot to tag or who wants in!
Hook was raised in an 17th century English noble’s house, his father a major in the Army at the time. Hook’s relationship with his father molded him into the man he is today; better and worse.
His father was a man who believed in good form, drilling the young James to be a man of honor, of direct action, and of grim disposition. With that came a traditional view on the world involving Christ, the right of men (over women) and belief that strength was the ultimate virtue.
In short, a very limited view on what constituted masculinity.
Hook was a rebel from the early days, yearning for adventure and exploration. He had many traits his father consider favorable (bravery, athleticism, a natural inclination towards classical literature and leadership) but he spent it more on “stirring up trouble” then adding anything to society what his father would have called productive. The two fought often, but his father would often win, by force if necessary.
The young James was no stranger to corporal punishment.
He had hoped his son would join him as an officer in after his Eton education. Instead, Hook did what he wanted to do in the first time of his life - he went to be a pirate.
Such an action was born just as much out of spite as it was out the desire for adventure and rebellion. His father heard later of what happened to him, Hook would wager, but the two never met or spoke since. Hook figures he is long dead now.
The phantom of his father leans in large amongst the shadows of his life, standing shoulder to shoulder with the teachers and masters at Eton. if asked sober, Hook would remark it made him tough and stubborn.
Violence isn’t cruel and neither are you. You’ve fought all your life-for justice, for love, for peace of mind and it doesn’t seem to be getting any better but you’re not going to stop because at least you have something to work for. Life is a dance and you’re moving so wildly you stumble. Salt is under your tongue but you don’t mind the taste. One day, this world will be better-even if you’re not around to see it. You are a campfire and its camaraderie, its laughter, its energy.
tagged by: @murroyilodel (thank you so much!)
tagging: @faerierosa @nononsenselady @sonofvarian @streetwisetemptress @quitethepirategal @floreatetona @waitlifted @wonderlcndtea and anyone else I forgot to tag!
honey and lemon or milk and sugar // strawberries or raspberries // winter or summer // beaches or forests // unicorns or dragons // gemstones or crystals // hummingbirds or owls // fireworks or sparklers // sweet or sour // sun or moon // macaroons or croissants // glitter or matte // fairy lights or candles
🍖 - GLUTTONY - What are my muses Vices? What do they indulge in to the point of self harm or health risk? What do they not know when to stop?
@captainofthepearl
There are two sides of the coin that define Hook's vices, both feeding into each other. Where most men have food, wine, sex, or some other matter that consumes Hook's overall vice is
ARROGANCE
He can't let it go. No matter what it is, he has to be the master of it. in some way he has to be the "perfect man". His arrogance is held up by two pillars that feed and eat into each other like a self-consuming snake.
PRIDE - Hook can't admit defeat, nor back down from a challenge. He defines himself by his success, and has the work ethic to prove it. This could be a virtue in some ways, as it drives him to do his best at all things he puts his mind to, including how he treats others when he is feeling selfless.
SHAME - Hook knows his defeats, and like all of us is intimately aware of his own weaknesses, failures, et cetera. This shame can lead into self-destructive behavior at his worse like over-training, alcoholism, and abusive crusades upon his crew and his mental health.
At night he lies awake unable to let go - to move on and accept imperfection - and like Pan is trapped in an all-consuming spiral of fear that drives him ever and ever on into the darkness...
