#amaris pan | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

carewyncromwell · 10 months

Photo

“Will we ever find our Neverland? Will we ever be at peace again?”

~“Neverland” by Crywolf

x~x~x~x

previous part here! // full tag here! // original concept suggested by @ag907

x~x~x~x

Carewyn bolted off of the stool she’d been sitting on with such force she knocked it over. Her eyes flooded with tears that blinded her, and yet this time, these tears gleamed like a beautiful rainbow, because there was no sorrow within. Only joy.

“JACOB -- JACOB!”

She ran to him. Her joy was so strong that she actually ended up coming right up off the ground, flying up to him so as to better reach him. Jack pulled out of Blaise and the other pirate’s hold, his hands likewise clutching at the air, until they reached each other. Carewyn threw her arms around her brother’s neck -- Jack clung to her even as his legs gave way and he collapsed onto his knees. He didn’t even care that his hat had fallen off. Instead he cradled the back of Carewyn’s head in his hand and held her tight.

“Wyn -- my Wyn -- ”

“Jacob, you’re here! You’re here, Jacob!”

“Yes!” choked Jack. “Yes, Wyn...I’m here -- you’re -- you’re here...you’re...you’re so big, Wyn! How long has it been...my little Wyn...my little sister...”

Jack’s hand in her hair was trembling.

“...Carewyn...” he whispered.

He cried even harder as he started to laugh.

“Your name is Carewyn,” he said weakly. “Not Wyn, not Winnie, it’s Carewyn.”

Carewyn beamed through her tears. “Yes, Jacob...”

“Mum called you Winnie,” Jack mumbled, almost awed by the recollection. “And I’m...I’m Jacob. I’m not Jack, I’m Jacob...”

“Yes, Jacob!” Carewyn assented fervently.

Jack -- no, Jacob -- was sobbing openly now. He kissed the top of Carewyn’s head, pulling away just enough to look over her face through his teary eyes.

“Oh, Wyn, look at you,” he breathed. “You’re so grown up! Oh, Wyn -- can you ever forgive me? I almost forgot you, Wyn -- forgot Mum...Wyn, I’m so sorry...”

“Me too, Jacob,” Carewyn mumbled as Jacob brought her right up beside his chest again, bringing his hand through her hair. “Me too -- ”

She squeezed him tighter still as he rocked her back and forth like a child. Her eyes were flowing with tears, but she’d never smiled bigger in her life. She even kept floating up off the ground in her brother’s arms.

“It’s just like Mum said,” she said through her tears. “Neverland is where dreams come true -- I dreamed and I dreamed, and...you’re here, Jacob, you’re really here!”

Jacob and Carewyn sat on the floor together, unable to let go of each other or stop crying in pure joy. For that moment, they didn’t see or think of anything else around them -- not until a low, dark Bass voice cut in.

“Indeed he is...as are you.”

Jacob and Carewyn both looked up. Hook stood over them, adjusting his hook offhandedly as he smiled coldly down at them.

“It is truly nice to have Winnie back where she belongs,” he murmured, his eyes boring into Jacob, “isn’t it, Jack?”

Jacob stared at Hook. In the span of the next ten seconds, his face had lost all of its color, his eyes once again brightening with an awareness he’d been lacking. Unlike when he remembered Carewyn’s full name or his mother, however, this revelation was a horror he could barely put into words.

“No -- no, no -- ”

He whirled on Carewyn. “Wyn -- Wyn, you’re supposed to be with Amari -- !”

Carewyn blinked, baffled. “Jacob?”

“You’re supposed to be with him -- he was supposed to keep you safe!” Jacob said, his voice torn by anger, anxiety and absolute terror. “You shouldn’t be here -- you have to get out of here now -- !”

Charles shot a pointed look at Blaise. In an instant, Blaise had swept forward and roughly grabbed Jacob around the waist, hoisting him up off the ground and away from Carewyn.

“No!” cried Carewyn. “No, don’t take him! Jacob! JACOB!”

The little girl desperately tried to hang onto her brother’s hands. It proved difficult, though, when Hook seized the back of her nightgown with his hook and seized her around the waist too with his other hand -- it made it impossible for her to fly and get free, no matter how much she kicked and squirmed -- and Jacob was torn out of her reach.

Jacob writhed in Blaise’s grip, even as the First Mate yanked him toward the open cabin door.

“Run, Wyn!” he bellowed. “Run back to Amari, Wyn! Forget about me! Forget me and run! Fly away -- !”

It was only seemingly with the burst of adrenaline that came with anger that Blaise managed to accrue enough strength to wrestle Jacob out the door and slam it shut behind him.

“You must forgive your brother,” Hook said in a cool voice that bordered on disdain. “I thought he’d be more appreciative that I reunited you with him, after so long...”

Carewyn’s eyes were overflowing with tears as she looked up at Hook.

“Let him go! Please, bring him back!”

“Now, Winnie,” Hook said, and he seemed oddly pleased to see Carewyn so upset, “of course I will. I would be happy to reunite you, once Jack’s discipline has expired.”

“Discipline?” repeated Carewyn. The word gave her serious misgivings.

“Naturally,” said Hook. “He was the one who tried to keep you from me. Are you not curious about how your brother knew you’d been with Orion Amari, without me telling him so? Why he never once sought you out, if he knew you were in Neverland?”

Carewyn stared up at the pirate captain. His blue eyes -- identical to hers -- gleamed with something darker even as his smile spread.

“Where shall I begin this tale...?” Hook murmured absently, as he crossed the room to look out the window. “Ah yes -- perhaps when your thoughtless brother left my ship and went off to the mainland by himself one day and didn’t return until after nightfall. I was very displeased, when I found him missing -- even more so when he lied that he had gone exploring and gotten lost. Had to break his leg, to ensure he wouldn’t try to go running off again...”

Carewyn felt like her heart had been squeezed.

“You monster -- how could you -- ?!”

“It was a bit cumbersome, when trying to deal with the centaur brat at Marooner’s Rock,” Hook cut her off cleanly, disregarding her righteous fury altogether. “Fortunately Orion Amari still played into my hand, and my hook, trying to save his two new Lost Kids. But in the cave, I heard you sing that melody which of course is mine and mine alone, and my suspicions were aroused. I had thought at first that the last child of the three my crew saw on the clouds was simply one more wee pup of this ginger-haired family that Amari had stumbled upon in the Other World -- but if, in fact, she knew my song, there was only one possible reason why. And sure enough, some interesting rumors started fluttering about the island -- of the Lost Kids’ new mother, with the eyes of a pirate.”

Carewyn felt Hook’s eyes on her through the glass of the cabin window.

“I knew you were one of mine,” said Hook, “but I was not completely certain that you were the Winnie I sought, or some other new pirate entirely. All my suspicions as to your identity were confirmed, however, when my helmsman Ashe brought you to me.”

His eyes flitted over to the brown-eyed teenager still standing by the door -- he’d had his eyes locked on the closed cabin door, but he looked up, startled, when he was addressed. Carewyn turned to look at the Pirate Without Pirate Eyes -- his face was almost as pale as Jacob’s had been, but his jaw was clenched: almost as if looking Carewyn in the face and seeing her tear-stained cheeks was difficult for him.

“He said he’d taken you for your eyes and for your resemblance to Jack’s accounts of you,” Hook said, his eyes boring into Ashe’s reflection in his cabin window. “And yes, for certain, those are fair reasons. But my helmsman was unaware of just how much I knew.”

Ashe tore his eyes away from Carewyn’s at last, unable to keep looking into those eyes so like Jacob’s. His brown eyes were rippling with turbulent emotion before he shut them tight.

“By the time Ashe brought you to me, I was already more than aware that Jack had stolen away to see Orion Amari that night and cajoled him into stealing you away. Who else would have the ability to bring you here, to this paradise of youth? Who else has a home I know not the location of? Why else would Amari have kept his Lost Kids’ new ‘mother’ so hidden? Why else would Jack’s moods be so turbulent -- longing to see you, and yet also being determined to keep you away from me?”

Hook turned away from the window at last to face Carewyn, his hand adjusting his hook.

“In surrendering you -- the precious treasure I sought for so long -- to my mortal enemy,” he said very softly, “in allowing my mortal enemy to deceive and manipulate you for his own ends -- to keep you from your only remaining family...Jack has been disloyal to his captain and orders. That is why he is now being punished.”

Carewyn’s blue eyes flashed with righteous anger. “Don’t talk about my brother like that! Or Orion! He’s a good person, and you’re -- you’re just a cruel, wicked old man!”

SHUCK.

Hook brought his hook down hard into the wood of the wall right beside Carewyn’s head. She flinched, immediately going silent, but her eyes bore into his with loathing.

“‘A good person,’” recurred Hook. His eyes were so empty and emotionless, they were akin to some ice-cold doll. “I suppose that’s why he takes children away from their families? Lures them away like some Pied Piper, promising them bon-bons and fanciful dreams? Have you never wondered why all of his ‘Children’ have no mother? Why they needed you to fill that role for them?”

Carewyn’s face lost some of its color.

“Not all of them lost their mothers the way you did, Winnie, my dear,” said Hook very quietly. “They lost them through the more wicked efforts of Neverland -- that wicked forgetfulness that Orion Amari has so willingly embraced.”

The memory of Orion’s words in Pixie Hollow returned to Carewyn’s mind.

“We all forget, Carewyn.”

“That’s part of what Neverland is. It wants you to forget your pain – leave behind your greatest sorrows, from that Other World. It wants you to be happy, and at peace…be young and free, forever.”

“...Forget him, and be happy.”

“He wants them to forget -- wants you to forget. He wants you to forget you ever had a family -- a home, a life before Neverland. All he wants you to know is that you’re one of his. For if you remember anything else...well, then you wouldn’t be his anymore. With your memories gone, you would have nowhere else to stay but with him.”

Carewyn felt her eyes welling up with tears and she clenched her jaw, trying to look brave.

“You’re a liar,” she choked.

Despite her words, she was full of a dread and foreboding she could hardly describe. Hook seemed to know it too, and he cleanly yanked his hook from the wall.

“If you want your proof, just look at the two boys that came with you, Winnie,” he said lightly. “Charlie and Bill, I believe you called them? Brothers, you said they were -- born of the same mother, back in the world you were from. Do you think their mother was where they learned that shepherd rhyme, the one Bill taught you? Did you know their mother, little Winnie? How much of her do you remember now? Do you even know if she’s dead or alive? How much of their family do you think Charlie and Bill even remember?”

“Stop it!”

Clearly all of this had struck a nerve. Carewyn wrapped her arms tightly around herself and withdrew, trying desperately to keep herself from completely breaking down.

Hook, however, merely used her shrinking posture to lord over her like a quiet, dark shadow. It made Carewyn feel tiny -- smaller than she ever had before -- shrinking in the face of such oppressive, silent darkness.

“They...wouldn’t forget,” Carewyn whispered. “They love their mother. They wouldn’t forget her...”

They couldn’t forget their mother...Carewyn’s heart felt like it was being ripped in half, just imagining it. She loved her own mother so much -- to make her dearest friends forget their family --

“Not out of their own will, perhaps,” said Hook softly. “But they weren’t given much of a choice, were they? Orion Amari simply...took them. Took them away from that world where they remember who they were, with no intention of sending them back...”

“Orion did not just ‘take them!’” Carewyn said fiercely.

“No,” Hook said pitilessly. “No, I suppose he only really wanted you. That was what he and Jack had arranged, wasn’t it? Amari was supposed to bring you to Neverland -- keep you away from me. Your two friends...were just a lovely little perk.”

Cold flooded Carewyn’s entire body like an ocean wave.

Was...was that true? That Orion had only brought Bill and Charlie along because of her? It was likely that they wouldn’t have let her go alone, if Orion had invited just her. But Orion had said he’d bring them back home --

Wait. No, he hadn’t. Bill had left his parents a note, to tell them where they’d gone...then Charlie had said they could be back home in time for supper. And Orion...Orion had just shrugged. He’d never said he’d take them home...

“…Forever is an awfully long time,” Carewyn’s own words came back to her, followed by Orion’s response --

“And yet it can feel like nothing at all.”

He knew. He’d known they’d lose track of time, hadn’t he? Even though Bill and Charlie had only intended to stay overnight and be back the next morning...even though it was clear that they’d been gone far longer than just one day...Orion hadn’t said anything.

“You belong here, Carewyn. With us. The Lost Kids.”

Orion had never intended to bring Carewyn home. And because Bill and Charlie had come with Carewyn...he never intended to bring them home either.

Now many people, children or otherwise, would’ve been overwhelmed with anger, resentment, maybe even hatred toward Orion in this moment. Ashe had certainly expected such a reaction. Instead, however, Carewyn only seemed to shrink further -- losing the last spark of resistance she’d had as her blue eyes flooded with fresh tears.

“...It’s my fault...”

The words fell from her lips without her even realizing it. They made Ashe straighten up sharply, startled. Hook, however, only seemed to gain a darker tone to his eyes.

“It is,” he said as softly as a demon might whisper in someone’s ear.

He bent down to get down on Carewyn’s level, but it only served to make him look more like a predator, as that malevolent look darkened further in his forget-me-not eyes.

“Orion Amari only wanted you,” he whispered. “Your brother only told him to find you. If it weren’t for you, Bill and Charlie would still be safe at home, with their mother. They wouldn’t be Lost -- doomed to forget everything and everyone they ever loved...motherless and lonely, running from the likes of me. They’d be living their lives safe at home with their family. If that family even still exists.”

Overcome with emotion, Carewyn covered her face in both hands. She tried incredibly hard not to break down into sobs, but tears leaked out of her eyes despite herself as she crumpled in on herself, her shoulders quaking. His eyes still dark with that cold, snake-like blackness, Hook very slowly brought his arms around the small girl and actually embraced her.

“There, there, Winnie,” he murmured. “I know it hurts. Betrayal always hurts...”

His silver hook ended up right beside her neck as he brought his china-white hand through her ginger hair.

“But you see now why I cannot allow you to return to the likes of Orion Amari. He only ever played with your emotions from the start -- took advantage of your kind heart, to get what he wanted...”

Ashe couldn’t help but keep a very close eye on the hook resting against the crying child’s helpless neck.

“You are one of mine, Winnie,” Hook said with a serpent’s attempt at kindness. “My blood and my flesh. It’s only natural that I would do all matter of things, to ensure you remain safely here, with me. If Amari or his Lost Kids ever took you from me again...I would have all the motive in the world to hurt them, if only to protect you from them...”

Carewyn looked up, horror in her teary eyes.

“No!” she said. “No, I won’t let you -- !”

“It’s all up to you, Winnie,” said Hook. “I will not forget your existence here. And I will not rest until you are mine. I will do anything I have to in order to make sure you and Jack remain here, on my ship...”

His blue eyes sparkled with more of that dark, satisfied glint.

“...Ah yes...and that’s the other rub, isn’t it? Now that you know Jack is here with me...could you live with yourself if you did leave? Could you forget that your brother is here with me -- alive and alone, on my ship -- sailing under my flag and following my orders? Could you bear it if your precious Amari hurt your brother while fighting my crew -- maimed him, as he did me?”

Carewyn flinched as the pirate captain tapped his cold hook against her neck.

Ashe’s lips knit together as his black eyes narrowed. He’d known Hook was a wicked man -- he was a pirate, so that was par the course. And Ashe knew that Jack would ultimately be happier in his sister’s company than being separated from her forever...it was the reason he’d even revealed Carewyn’s existence in the first place. He’d wanted Jack to be reunited with his sister. Then he would have everything he wanted and needed in Neverland, and...he would stay. He’d forget the Other World and his life there and happily stay...

But even so...Captain Hook truly was a heartless bastard.

Carewyn was shaking visibly now -- not just from her sobs, but through legitimate fear. As she shook, though, she went deathly quiet -- and eventually, all of the shaking seemed to have blasted some fresh adrenaline through her.

“I -- I’ll stay,” she burst out. “But -- but you have to do something for me, first!”

Hook cocked his eyebrows.

“You said your word is your bond,” Carewyn said with as much courage as she could muster. “Well, so is mine. ...I’ll give you what you want...but you have to give me what I want, first.”

Hook looked almost intrigued. “And what is that, little Winnie?”

“You have to let me go back to Orion,” Carewyn said very firmly. “You have to not follow me, or have me followed, on my way back to his hideout. Give me one night to send Bill and Charlie home. Then I’ll come back here to stay. ...I give you my word.”

Ashe’s brows furrowed. It was astounding enough that Jack’s sister was brave enough to try to make a deal with Captain Hook himself -- but she made no deal to advance herself: only to protect her friends and return them to their family. Even Orion Amari...even with how much she had to have resented him for how he’d tricked her and her friends...even he had somehow earned her protection, in this moment.

Ashe didn’t think he’d ever encountered anyone quite so selfless in all his life. Certainly not aboard the Jolly Roger. And clearly, neither had Hook -- and that was why he slowly rose to his feet in something like triumph, his eyes narrowing and his lips spread into a cold smile as he extended his only hand to her.

"...Very well. I will allow you to return to Orion Amari, one last time. You may tell your friends the truth of his deception -- perhaps even challenge him of the validity of it, if you so wish. And then, by nightfall, you will return, and never leave again.”

“You promise you won’t follow me?” Carewyn challenged him.

“I do.”

“And you won’t have me followed either?”

“I will make no attempt to seek out Amari’s hideout through your return.”

Carewyn’s shoulders relaxed ever-so-slightly, even as her jaw clenched slightly and she gave her best attempt at a stoic nod. Her face was as white as a sheet as she took his hand and shook it to seal the deal.

"We have an accord,” said Hook.

Gently releasing her hand, the pirate captain headed back to the table where Blaise’s tea service was still set up.

“When you return, Winnie, I should like very much if you sang for me again,” he said without looking at her. “Perhaps for your brother and the rest of the crew, as well. All of us do so enjoy singing, to pass the time.”

Carewyn couldn’t look at him either -- her eyes instead flitted to the far corner.

“...Yes, sir.”

Her eyes landed on Ashe. He too was looking at her out the side of his eye, looking more uncomfortable than ever.

“Good,” said Hook. “Your brother has baldly refused to sing for me once, since he arrived, even when all of us crew members have chosen to sing together. It has greatly displeased me...”

He picked up the empty blue cup in the set, cradling it lightly.

“I’m sure you think I’m very cruel, Winnie,” he said airily. “But truly, once you return home to stay, I think you will see I can be kind. Especially when someone has given me proper motivation to do so.”

Hook glanced over his shoulder at Carewyn, still cradling that blue-patterned cup. The bottom of it was a faded gray -- stains likely left by that “black licorice” drink he’d poured into it so many times before.

“You see this tea set?” he indicated the one he was holding, as well as the red, yellow, and green-patterned ones. “I forget where I first purchased it -- but an image I do retain is of four children, each one holding one of these four cups...”

Something misty trailed over his eyes.

“...My children, I think...” he murmured.

That mistiness passed quickly.

“...The child that held this one was very quiet -- soft as a springtime breeze and frail. Her eyes were like mine, her face heart-shaped, and her hair, long and blond. And she was gentle -- intelligent and patient, calm and serene...”

Carewyn could see a restrained, but loving smile on the inside of her eyelids -- her mother’s smile. The shift in her expression made Hook tilt his head a bit, examining it.

“She’s familiar to you, isn’t she?” he asked. “That child that was mine?”

Carewyn nodded without looking up. Hook’s forget-me-not eyes narrowed that bit more.

“You are Lane’s,” he murmured. Had he lost sight of that fact temporarily, in all this? “She was mine...and so too are you.”

His pale, doll-like face was very unreadable as he gently slid the tea cup into Carewyn’s hands, making the little girl look up in surprise.

“I realize my kind of brew isn’t to your taste,” said Hook with a very small smile, “but I hope you will keep this -- as a memento of your mother, who I likewise wish was with us.”

Carewyn looked from Hook to down at the teacup and back. Her squirming stomach that made her distrust and dislike the man who had broken Jacob’s leg and was threatening the safety of everyone else on the island was painfully at odds with her heart, aching with longing and grief for her mother.

“...Thank you,” Carewyn said at last, very reluctantly.

Pleased by her lack of resistance, Hook shot a cool look at Ashe.

“Take her ashore, helmsman, and then return promptly. Winnie knows the way back to us, after she’s dealt with her affairs.”

Ashe’s eyes narrowed a bit. “...Yes, sir.”

He averted his eyes when Carewyn looked at him, instead heading over to the door and holding it open for her.

“After you,” he said brusquely.

Glancing at the pirate out the side of her eye, Carewyn swallowed, before -- securing the blue teacup safely beside her heart in both hands -- she forced herself to plow out of the door, right out onto the deck.

The other pirates with eyes like hers -- Pearl, Claire, and Blaise -- all quickly looked up at her at the helm. They watched her follow Ashe across the deck and then onto the gangplank toward shore -- Blaise even went to go confront Charles, when he likewise came out onto the helm -- but both Carewyn and Ashe stubbornly kept their eyes averted, trying to pretend they weren’t there. Carewyn desperately looked around for some sign of Jacob, but he wasn’t anywhere to be found.

“He’s down in the brig,” Ashe reminded her under his breath. “He’ll likely remain there until you return.”

Carewyn looked up at Ashe, startled. The Pirate Without Pirate Eyes had very stiff shoulders and his voice was oddly hard, but his face betrayed some shame despite his best efforts.

Carewyn considered him carefully.

“...You’re not part of our family, are you?” she asked after a moment.

Ashe scoffed. “Of course not -- I don’t look a thing like you.”

Carewyn frowned deeply, clearly confused. Ashe stole a look over his shoulder at her and then scoffed again.

“Hn -- if you’re thinking Hook coerced me to join, then you’re wrong,” he said dryly. “I wasn’t forced to become a pirate -- I chose to. I had nothing to live for and even less to die for, so I came here. I joined Hook’s crew of my own free will -- and I stay for the same reason.”

Carewyn’s blue eyes grew a little smaller.

“Yeah, yeah, judge me all you like,” Ashe said coolly, “your brother’s more than rambled on about how much of a saint you are and how sweet and brave and kind you are and all that. But I like being a pirate. I like not having to answer to anyone -- to not having to impress anyone, or look out for anyone except myself. Your brother does too, whenever he forgets to feel sorry for himself. He’s been able to be happy here -- at least until he remembers how much he misses you...”

Despite the bluntness and defensiveness of Ashe’s posture, something a little more pained and almost jealous rippled over his features saying this.

“He’s miserable...thinking of being apart from you,” he said more lowly. “Whatever stupid thought he had in giving you over to Amari -- whatever idiotic idea made him hurt himself and you, by keeping the truth from you and staying away from you...he can’t let go of his past and be happy, so long as he’s separated from you.”

He stole another look over his shoulder at her. Upon finding that she was looking right at him, though, he quickly looked away again in a vain attempt to obscure his emotions again.

“You’ll both be much better off together here than apart,” Ashe said brusquely. “Sure, maybe Hook’s a villain, and yeah, maybe you’ll have to toughen up and accept that life’s not fair and Neverland isn’t all sunshine and rainbows...but well, you’ll survive it. Your brother has. I have. And even if things aren’t perfect...well, we’re both Lost too, even if we’re not kids anymore. ...We’ve just been Lost together.”

Carewyn didn’t answer. Ashe wanted to look over his shoulder at her, but he could feel her eyes on his back and so stubbornly kept his focus ahead as they reached the section of the woods where he’d first found Carewyn, not far from Pixie Hollow.

“Here you are, then,” Ashe said dismissively. “Hook will expect you tomorrow, before nightfall.”

Carewyn bowed her head solemnly. “Yes.”

There was an uncomfortable silence. Avoiding her eye, Ashe stuffed his hand in his pocket and turned on his heel to leave.

“Well...see you around.”

Ashe was startled by Carewyn taking his hand. When he looked at her, he found a very pale, but oddly brave look on her face.

“Thank you,” she said, her voice coming out rather strained.

Ashe blinked. He then almost immediately tried to brush it off.

“For what, walking you to shore? I was just following orders...”

But Carewyn shook her head. “No. I mean for...well, what you said earlier. I don’t agree with you, at all,” she added, meaning to clarify. “I don’t want to be a pirate...and I don’t think Jacob does either, not really. Especially not under someone like Hook.”

Her blue eyes softened.

“...But you said...you were Lost too. And that...well, when Jacob was here, in Neverland...you two were Lost together. And even if I know Jacob didn’t tell me the truth because he wanted to protect me...I think you only told Hook because you were trying to be a good friend...not because you wanted Jacob hurt or locked up.”

Ashe was horrified by this idea. “Well, obviously! I mean, sure, I knew Hook would be mad, and yes, he has taken his anger out on Jack before, but -- well, you were going to be part of his crew, which he wanted, so I thought...”

He brushed off the end of the sentence, not seeing the need to go on about whatever fake outcome he’d conjured up in his own head. Carewyn didn’t seem to mind, though.

“It’s okay. I’m not mad at you -- and I’m sure Jacob isn’t either, even if he might act mad at first. I just...well, like I said...thank you. For being there for Jacob. I’m really glad he had you, the way I had Bill and Charlie.”

Ashe stared at Carewyn for a moment, perfectly bewildered. He felt his face flushing and, very quickly, he looked away, trying and failing to hide his embarrassment.

“Well...uh...I...”

His sharp-lidded brown eyes betrayed something a bit more fragile as he glanced at her. She offered him a weak, but still rather brave smile, and gave his hand a squeeze as she released it. She then turned on her heel toward the woods, taking a deep breath before slowly starting to walk away.

“Are you going to be okay from here?” Ashe asked, before he could stop himself.

Carewyn turned back around to look at him, startled. Ashe wanted to hit himself -- where had that come from? Had Jack astral-projected himself out of the brig and momentarily possessed him or something?

Carewyn, however, gave him a kind smile and nodded.

“...Mm-hmm. I know the way back, from here.”

Ashe knew she wasn’t just thinking of her way back to the Lost Kids’ hideout either, from the way her eyes dimmed, glancing past him toward the horizon. Even despite the darkening of her expression, though, she kept that slightly strained smile on as she turned and disappeared into the trees. Her hands were clasped over her heart, holding the blue-patterned teacup that her mother had used so long ago.

Despite her hesitation at accepting Hook’s “gift,” she cradled it in her hands with the utmost care.

Oh, Mum, she thought, as all of the hard-fought courage she’d been desperately clinging to slowly fell from her face. You warned me about how dangerous Captain Hook was...and you were right, Mum, you were right. But...

The thought of Bill and Charlie made Carewyn’s heart hurt.

I can’t let him hurt them, Mum -- and I can’t let them forget their mother like I almost forgot you and Jacob, Mum...

If she did, she knew she’d never be able to forgive herself...

x~x~x~x

Carewyn arrived back at Hangman’s Tree very, very late that night. Only Orion saw her come in, from his spot sitting up in the “cubby” spot inside one of the tree’s branches.

Despite seeing her, though, he did not move or make any attempt to make his presence known. Instead he watched her put down some pretty-looking blue and white Lost Thing beside her little cot, before tucking herself in, curling up in a ball, and going right to sleep.

Orion silently watched Carewyn sleep from afar off and on for a while. At one point, he even floated down toward ground level so as to get a better look at her, as if making sure she wasn’t injured. Her hair was neat and there were no scrapes or blood, but her face...there was disquiet, in how she slept. And her lips...

Orion’s black eyes narrowed ever-so-slightly.

The warm, kind, well-loved-teddy-bear wrinkles at the corners of Carewyn’s lips -- so evocative of resilience to Orion, when he’d first seen her -- were a shade darker now.

Was her sorrow about forgetting her brother to blame for that? Was...what he’d said about Neverland, about how both he and it wanted her to forget...to blame for it? Was he...?

This thought was so unpleasant that Orion immediately pushed it away, wanting to scare it away like some meddlesome bird trying to steal his lunch.

He hadn’t wanted to hurt her -- that was part of why he wanted her to come to Neverland in the first place. The Other World was full of pain, and Carewyn had clearly known a lot of it, despite still being a child. But here, pain was easily forgotten. Grief and suffering and loneliness...they were all easily forgotten here. He didn’t need to apologize for making her cry. She’d forget she was sad in the first place, by the next morning -- Neverland was good at making people forget pain and sorrow. And if any bit of her sadness remained, he could make it up to her. He could take her somewhere else fun, or bring her a nice gift, or fly with her that bit higher into the sky. Then they could be just as they were...happy and free, like they were with the fairies...

Orion merely brought a hand up and gently patted the top of her ginger head -- just as his Shadow had, when he’d first come to collect it at the Weasley family home. Then, without saying a word, he withdrew to his own cot and likewise went to sleep.

Even if those darker lines remained...she could at least forget what had darkened them in the first place. Then she’d stay, and be free. Then she’d smile again.

#hphm #hogwarts mystery #my writing #my art #peter pan au #jacob cromwell #carewyn cromwell #charles cromwell #duncan ashe #orion amari #bill weasley #charlie weasley #fanfiction #ohhh orion you really don't know what you're in for :<#also yes charles is a gaslighting SOB I mean come on HIM talking about ANYONE else manipulating anyone for their own gain is ridiculous #yes he's obviously projecting everything he's doing to carewyn onto orion #but sadly orion's choice to lure carewyn to neverland is easy to demonize #because yeah even if he did it with the thought that she could be happy in neverland and he likes her as a person and wanted her to stay #he still was deceptive and roped both bill and charlie into the whole thing when he *knows* they have a family who would miss them #doesn't mean charles and orion are the same by any means #but you can see how captain charles hook would take advantage of the black-gray morality here

8 notes · View notes

clanwarrior-tumbly · 5 months

Note

Could you do some headcanons of a Mc reader dating the BB League Elite 4 + Kieran but miraidon gets super jealous.

It gets to the point where they get out of their Pokeball to growl á them.

Amarys

While she isn't too good at expressing emotions herself, she can read the emotions of others quite well.

Apparently this extends to Pokémon, especially after she notices your Miraidon acting rather irate around her. It even got to the point where they kept bursting from their pokeball to growl at her whenever you're together.

"It seems your Agias has suddenly grown a dislike for me, [y/n]." She remarked one day. "But I cannot figure out why..have I done something to upset them recently?"

"Nothing that I know of. Although I think it's worth mentioning that they're actually called Miraidon, not Agias."

"..is that so? Then I will correct this error right away."

Both of you think that after she apologizes, the problem would be resolved...yet it continues, with Miraidon always budging into your conversations, trying to get you on their back and fly/drive off without warning, etc.

All of this happens despite there being no danger present.

Eventually, you chalk up their protective nature to one probable cause: Jealousy.

You were spending more time with Amarys, and perhaps that made your futuristic companion worried you'll spend less with them.

When you brought this up to your gf, she's surprised and isn't too sure how to resolve this..

Considering she's new to relationships, she didn't expect a Pokémon of all things to become so jealous of her.

You end up suggesting that the two bonded (outside of timed flying trials of course) so that they could learn to trust her more.

Despite lacking emotional depth, she still tries her best, knowing this would greatly benefit all three of you in the long run if you were going to continue dating.

Crispin

"Hey uh..your Pokémon is giving me a funny look again.....w-was the sandwich too spicy for them? I can always turn down the heat."

He's straight-up convinced that Miraidon is mad at him because he's making their sandwich the wrong way.

So he keeps changing up the ingredients, hoping to satisfy them (yet it doesn't help when they keep popping out of the pokeball and scaring him).

You've figured out ages ago that they were simply jealous of how much time you were spending with your new bf.

Alas, you're dating a chef who's not only a hothead, but an airhead as well.

"Do you think your Miraidon and Magmortar got into an argument? Because they keep staring at him like they wanna rip him apart..haha.."

"No, honey..it's you, not your Pokémon."

"....ohhh so you're saying I got into an argument with Miraidon! Yeah that makes sense..I did sorta lose my cool with them the other day..."

Sometimes you wonder if a bonk from that frying pan of his would help knock some sense into him....

Instead, though, you just have him sit down in the club room while you explain Miraidon's jealousy in detail.

Crispin finally understands and immediately feels bad (and a little dumb knowing it took him this long to realize it). He's rushing to apologize to your companion, promising to make them the best sandwich possible--hot or not.

He still gets nervous about kissing you/holding your hand when they're nearby, often feeling the need to hide behind the pan.

But you reassure him it's okay.

Drayton

Tbh he kinda relishes in the huffy demeanor your Miraidon has been displaying in recent days.

The way they gnash their teeth, circle around him, make sparks fly, hover over you, and light up their eyes as though preparing to use Electro Drift...

Yep, despite how flashy and futuristic they are...all Drayton sees is another dragon type Pokémon who's throwing temper tantrums.

And being such chill guy around dragons, he has no fear and instead teases them behind your back, getting them riled up.

"Oh c'mon. You don't scare me. I know you've been looking out for [y/n]...and watching them hang out with Kingdra and Archaludon-"

"Agiiaaassss.."

"...there it is." He laughs. "Look, I'm not "stealing" them from ya. So let's just try to get along for their sake, alright?"

"......"

"Right. I knew we'd come to an understandin'."

Somehow, the two are VERY good at hiding this little grudge from you, although you have noticed Miraidon being more protective than usual over you whenever Drayton's around.

But it boils over when they saw you shining his Archaludon's armor while on a picnic date, throwing a fit and almost having a fullblown battle with each other without either of you at the helm.

Luckily, all the other dragons on your team diffused the situation...

You're a little bit outraged (pun not intended) that Drayton never told you of Miraidon's jealousy issues--and that he was taunting them for it.

"C'mon, they know I'm only kidding around."

"...our Pokémon almost broke the damn table."

"I'll pay for the damages."

"I think you're missing the point here, babe.."

Lacey

From the moment she started showing you around the school...she wondered why Miraidon was acting weird.

Her first thought was that they could sense her being a fairy type trainer, but she isn't sure what to do about that, so she keeps quiet.

But after you two started dating, they grew more protective of you and jealous of her..and it's something she notices waaaay before you do.

After it gets to the point of them jumping out of their pokeball to scare her (and quickly go back in without you seeing them), her nerves were shot.

Even so, she doesn't want you to worry. So she keeps trying to be friendly towards them, but it's hard.

Doesn't help that Granbull is being quite sassy towards the electric/dragon type, too, growing just as protective over Lacey as they are over you.

And ofc she has to quell their argument before things turn ugly...and one day, it almost did.

"I'm sorry, but this is NOT right!" She crosses her arms, standing between the two Pokémon. "Granbull, I know you're better than this. And Miraidon, I know you don't trust me, but you need to-"

"What's going on, Lace?"

"!!!"

You were gone for all but two minutes, and you come back to your poor gf trying to stop a Pokémon battle from taking place.

Finally, she admits that Miraidon has been acting extremely jealous and it's made her nervous.

You feel terrible for not realizing this sooner, and promise to speak to your companion about it.

Least to say..you wind up coddling them and giving them treats, reassuring them you'll still pay attention to them--but they had to be nice to Lacey and not antagonize her fairies.

Reluctantly, they agree on the condition of getting a sandwich everyday.

Kieran

Considering Miraidon saved his life, it was definitely strange when that same Pokémon now seemingly hated his guts..

This all happened the moment you and him starting dating, with them popping out of the pokeball (and not because he mentioned sandwiches) and growling before you could share your first kiss.

It was embarrassing for Kieran, and he doesn't know how to earn their trust back.

He just muddles over the fact that he was...definitely less-than-kind to you, their trainer, back before the trip to Area Zero.

He said things to you that he didn't mean, things he regretted saying..and suddenly he wonders if Miraidon could have possibly heard all of that.

If they could hear you both discussing sandwiches, then surely....

It genuinely starts to stress him out, as he's trying so hard to make amends with everyone and not be hated anymore.

And yet he seemed to be forgiven by all...except for Miraidon.

Maybe they even regret saving him

You notice that your bf is starting to cower behind you at their presence, being scared to look them in the eye, etc.

Eventually, you get him to confess that he thinks your companion despises him, and the guilt resurfaces enough to make him cry, kneeling and pleading for their forgiveness.

But you comfort and reassure him that Miraidon's only jealous of you two spending so much time together.

"R-Really? That's all it was...?"

"Yep. I already gave them a stern talking to." You help him stand up. "I'm sorry they keep coming off as aggressive. They just gotta warm up to you a little more, that's all."

"So they don't..hate me?"

"Nope."

After that, Kieran tries his best to earn the dragon type's respect, becoming a bit braver with each interaction.

#clanask #anonymous #pokemon x reader #pokemon sv x reader #pokemon violet x reader #pokemon kieran #pokemon crispin #pokemon lacey #pokemon drayton #pokemon amarys #miraidon #headcanons

556 notes · View notes

shiny-kaibernyte · 6 months

Note

Could you do a Drayton x GN!Reader, where reader is rather clingy,

(and possibly trying to avoid Carmine by sticking w/ Drayton, knowing that she hates him? This is opt but it'd be p cool if you added this)

Ooo this is so adorable! I loved writing this so much! And I did include the Carmine request for you, I love my girl Carmine. I got a bit carried away though so i do hope you like it 💜💜

Pokémon Scarlett and Violet Indigo Disk DLC Spoilers ahead!

After a long and ruthless day of training, Drayton wants nothing more than to just lay down with his s/o and chill. And his s/o wants the exact same thing but there seems to be a road block between them.

SPOILER WARNING AHEAD (Indigo Disk Main Story and a little bit of The Teal Mask)

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Just this once | Drayton x Clingy Reader

“Is it just me, or is Kieran even more snappy today?” Lacey questioned as the door to the League club room opened. Drayton just sighed in response, holding the door open for the group, still feeling the strain from his training battle with Kieran.

Crispin was still fired up when he rushed into the room, hitting his hand against his pan. “What is his deal? Why can’t he get over himself!? I'm burning up just thinking about it. Who does he think he is? Revives aren't allowed, even in training battles!? Let alone two max revives.”

“Calm yourself, Crispin. Yelling about it won’t solve a thing,” Amarys calmly responded, pulling out her pocket watch and examining the time carefully.

“Sounds like you four had a fun time out there." Your voice chimed from the corner. A smile on your face when the group jumps from your response. Well, all except Drayton, who went from being stressed and tired to happy and tired. "Kieran giving you a hard time again?”

Drayton rubbed the back of his neck as he stretched his other arm up. “Hard time isn’t the word for it; I've never been so against Pokemon battling in my life. Apparently, a simple double battle isn’t good enough for our almighty champion. "Rolling his eyes as he says champion before making his way over to you.

“I'm still all fired up from the fight! And I didn’t even fight Keiran,” Crispin chimed, crossing his arms in frustration, his fiery rage still burning. The whole place would be on fire if his rage continued.

“Crispin, I think you should get some fresh air. Come on, let's go find some Pokémon to battle.” Lacey calmly placed her hand on his shoulder before ushering him out of the room. Waving to her fellow members before her quick exit.

Finally putting the pocket watch away, Amarys sees herself out as well, giving nothing more than a simple farewell. Leaving just you and Drayton in the League club room. Drayton finally sits down for the first time in hours, pulling you onto the sofa with him. “I am beat... and not just mentally either; think Kieran landed one to many Super Sonic's. Ears are still ringing!” A small laugh escaped your lips as he banged his hand against his ear, acting as if he's trying to get something out, getting a bit too aggressive in the process.

“If you keep doing that, you’re going to hurt yourself." You smiled, taking his hand away from his face and into the grasp of your own before moving to sit on his lap, which he happily accepted, putting his free arm around you to hold you there. "Okay, so tell me everything that happened!”

Half way through his very long explanation about how Kieran decided to test the strength of him and Lacey to 'see if they were still worthy’ along with his max revive cheating when they began getting the upper hand on him, Carmine suddenly burst through the door, almost taking the poor thing off its hinges. “I WILL KILL HIM!”

“That’s one way to make an entrance... Are you okay over there?” Drayton questioned, his arms still around you, tightening when you jumped closer to him at her sudden entrance. You could see the steam coming off of Carmine as she paced aggressively around the room, mumbling something to herself.

“No, I am very much not an okay captain obvious! Kieran has crossed a line today, and I need to blow off some steam! Amarys won’t battle me, and I can't find Crispin or Lacey, so one of you two will have to do it, and I'm not taking no for an answer!” She demanded coming over to you both, not even questioning the fact that you're just sitting on his lap.

Drayton shook his head and sighed. “I'm all battled out for today, so you will be taking no for an answer!”

"Fine, then I’ll battle you!” Before you could even protest, Carmine grabbed your arm in a non-aggressive way and practically yanked you away from him, much to your dismay. Letting go once you were by the door. Immediately, you stepped away, wanting to head back for Drayton, who was now standing up, flabbergasted by the audacity. "Hey, no walking out on me; we're battling!”

“Carmine, maybe you should take another look around for Crispin or Lacey? I mean, they have to be somewhere, right?” You respond, hoping she will just decide to go find them and use wild Pokémon as her victims of battle rage. As much as you loved her, you really just wanted to spend time with Drayton; he was your boyfriend, and he needed you as much as you needed him. And now Carmine has burst into the room like a wild Rhyhorn and pulled you away from him.

“No way! You’re here; you aren't doing anything important, so let's battle! I need to battle you so I can go talk to Kiki with a calmer mind. "She pleaded, fists clenched, as she finally gave her reason for being mad. “He can’t just blame me for one of his Pokémon fainting just because I was watching! I didn’t distract him from that fight; I didn't even say anything!” She continued to rant after that, not even noticing you weren't near her anymore.

Slowly continuing to back away, you somehow manage to make it back to Drayton's side as you hook your arm through his. Finally, You managed to get a word in through Carmine's rambling. “You know... maybe just this once you could go battle some wild Pokémon? I heard there was a Scizor outbreak going on in the canyon."

“Huh? A what? No, I don't care about any stupid outbreaks. I need a real challenge! And you are going to give me that challenge. "Carmine once again protested, " If she's anything, it’s determined. “And why do you keep hiding behind toothpaste? I'm not that angry!”

"No, you are; I can see the smoke coming out of your ears.” Drayton mocked crossing his arms as he stepped forward, leaning against the wall beside him as you continued to stay almost glued to his side.

“Zip it, Colgate! You’re not a part of this.” She snapped, staring daggers into his soul when he began laughing. “Unless you’ve changed your mind, you shush it!”

“Carmine, breathe; you are stressed. Take a moment to cool down and just think about my offer; who knows, maybe you could find a shiny Scizor there. That would definitely be one up, Kieran, huh?” Once again, you make an attempt to sway Carmine’s favour, hoping she will take the hint that you really don’t want to leave Drayton right now. Yeah, the fight will be short-lived given the team differences, but all you really wanted to do was just cuddle up to his side like a Komala.

Completely unexpectedly, Carmine stops abruptly and places her hand on her chin, thinking intensely. The way she can just switch off her rage so quickly is scary but hilarious at the same time. “A shiny one would be cool... Plus, Scizor is a pretty tough Pokémon, so I would get some good training done. And Kiki doesn’t have a shiny, so when I talk to him later, I can use it if he gets too pushy again. ALRIGHT! I’m going to get a shiny Scizor!”

Without another word, she just bolted out the door as fast as she came in. Drayton is just confused as he chuckles to himself. "Well, that was something. I’m honestly surprised that it worked; you certainly have a better way of calming the beast than I do love.”

“I'm also surprised that worked! And don’t call her a beast. "You respond by laughing along with him. “Though I'm glad it did work, I was worried I'd have to battle her and miss out on my cuddles.”

“You know I'd never let you miss that! I’d be too lonely. Besides, what's gonna keep me warm when you’re not around? A blanket I think not.” He teased, pulling you against his chest with a smile, your hands resting on his chest. “Though just once, I'm actually glad Carmine interrupted us... Her yelling probably cleared off the whole corridor, so why don’t we head up to my dorm before the swarm files back in? I rented your favourite movie this week.”

“If I get to stay with you, then I am so in!” You cheer. Taking his hand into yours as you drag him out of the room, rush back to his dorm for the peace and quiet you both desperately want. So much yelling for such little time.

258 notes · View notes

starcrossedxwriter · 10 months

Text

Unbreakable Part 1 (Erik Killmonger x OC)

A/N: here is the summary for our new story! Enjoyyyyyy!

Warnings: This is an AU with bits of the movie and the comics mixed together

“Fuck! J-Just like that.” Naja screwed her face up in one that gave the impression of a woman lost in the throes of pleasure, internally rolling her eyes at the haphazard thrusts of the man on top of her.

In fact, she was merely counting down the minutes until he came and would leave. She supposed the time was good to clear her mind and reminisce.

There was that guy from London, her brain immediately recalled.

He was her favorite one-night stand to think about when she needed an extra boost to get off. Now, that man was gorgeous and he fucked like a God. She actually felt a tinge of guilt when, after he made her cum for hours, she returned the favor by torturing him for hours… and not in a pleasurable way. To his credit, he lasted a long time, which earned her respect.

I hope he is doing ok, she thought to herself. Well, she knew he wasn’t. But had he just given up his supplier of stolen vibranium faster, he’d likely be doing better.

“You like that??” He demanded as he fucked into her like a jack rabbit. No finesse, no skill, no care. He did not even ensure her needs were met.

That’s ok, she decided. If his fucking was any indication of his skills in other activities, he was actually doing her and her pussy a favor.

“Yes, I love it!” She called out, cringing at her own voice. She faked her orgasm to finish the ordeal faster.

Anytime now, Bast, she called out to the god above. This was getting irksome.

It seemed Bast heard her calls and blessed her, the man finally cumming and filling her. She silently thanked Wakanda for the painless, side effect free birth control that would last her five years.

He rolled off of her, his chest heaving slightly while Naja was wholly unruffled aside from a thin layer of sweat.

“That was… something,” she offered with a fake smile, a content and pompous smile he did not deserve forming on his lips.

The male ego, she shook her head as she slid out of bed and threw a robe on. After returning from the bathroom, she was surprised to find him still lounging in her bed. Most of her night time companions knew the rules… no one stayed the night. But this one, Kofi…

No, this is Kwame, she thought to herself.

No… Kwame actually knows how to fuck you. Or at least, attempts to make you cum even if he doesn’t succeed. Kwame gets an A for effort. Is there a grade lower than F we can give this one? Maybe it’s Amari? She tilted her head as she studied him. Hell, she did not know who he was but she did know one thing: he clearly did not know when to get the fuck out.

“Ok well, this was fun but I should be heading to bed,” her tone was polite but left little room for negotiation. She gathered his clothes with lightning speed and tossed them onto his lap.

He pushed himself up onto her forearms. “Wait, you serious?”

She stared at him, a dead panned expression painted on her face. “Yea. I sleep alone. I had fun though,” she lied with ease and a smile.

“Oh… ok.” He started gathering his clothes, Naja wholly unmoved by the hurt glimmering in his eyes. “When will I see you again?”

“I’m at the bar… working every night,” she handed him his shoes to speed the process along. The sooner he was gone, the sooner she could pull out her vibrator and actually service the ache between her legs.

“So we can do this again sometime?” He asked as she shooed him toward the door.

“Definitely, definitely. I’ll call you. Get home safe.” She pushed him out of her front door, locking and dead bolting it behind her.

She rolled her eyes before returning up the stairs to her bedroom. She did not know why she even bothered. Every time she brought a man home after her shift, she knew they would likely not be able to please her. But she allowed them into her bed anyway. Fucking, even if it was lackluster, filled some void.

She settled into bed, about to pull out her trusted and faithful bullet when her phone rang. She groaned, glancing at her phone.

Dayo. Her boss.

“It is offensive to call someone this late, Dayo.” She chastised as she settled into bed.

“I gave you an hour. I assume your suitor has returned home?”

“He just left. What’s wrong?”

He sighed. “Another child went missing in the village tonight.”

Her heart sank. “That’s the 15th child in the last three months. Soldiers?”

At his silence, she let out a frustrated groan. “The family?”

“Devastated but not talking. They won’t admit it was the King’s men, which means they were threatened. The father tried to fight back and was killed. The mother had to be taken to the hospital, she was distraught and collapsed.”

“FUCK!” She paced up and down her bedroom, the wood panels of her floor creaking softly.

“I just wish we knew why he was targeting this village specifically. I reached out to the network across the rest of the city and the country and nothing like this is happening elsewhere.”

She shrugged. “This is the poorest village in the Capitol. It’s like child soldiers across the continent and trafficking across the world. You steal people from those who do not have the resources and means to fight for their return. The King maintains his throne and his games with intimidation and violence. We will find them, Dayo, and we will liberate our people. I promise. I will talk to you tomorrow. Let me know if the family needs anything, I can try to go to the markets tomorrow night during my shift.”

“Everyone needs everything, Malika. Thank you for doing what you can. For the liberation of Niganda.”

“For the liberation of Niganda. Good night, Dayo.”

She sighed, the ache between her legs vanishing completely. She grabbed her kimoyo beads and went over to the plain, nondescript wall across from her bed. She pressed the beads to a circular groove in the wood, both lighting up a mysterious shade of light blue. She glanced over her shoulder, as if someone were watching her, as the wall parted to reveal a walk-in closet.

However, this closet was filled with more than just clothes. It was a small arsenal. Spears, blades of all shapes and varieties, guns of equal diversity, even a bow and arrow, which she never got to use but she liked the look of it. And clothes. All black, fashioned to hide a many assortment of weapons in the oddest places, laced with vibranium to protect her body. She missed donning those clothes. And while those days might be over, the cache of weapons she maintained proved that some habits never died.

She pulled a duffle bag out of the back of the closet, the bag filled with passports, Nigandan currency, and Wakandan dollars. She pulled out a notebook she kept stashed under everything else. She flipped through it, each page filled with notes from her years in Niganda. The last 20 pages or so were each numbered with the name and # of a child. Her notes, witness accounts, leads. All of it jotted down on those pages, a complex map that helped her get no where closer to find in those children.

She did not know #15’s name yet but when she learned it, their name would join their number on the page. She wrote down the bit of information Dayo shared, figuring she could fill it out more tomorrow after she spoke with him in person.

All these children, all these souls lost. And no one seemed concerned or like they cared, no one willing to risk their lives to find them and save them. No one except those in the Nigandan Liberation Front. Dayo was their leader and he was committed as anyone to overthrow the tyrant that ruled over this country.

Her writing was interrupted by a ping from her kimoyo beads.

“Damn, can no one leave me the fuck alone?” She wondered aloud. However, she knew if someone was calling this line, it was important. No one from Wakanda ever bothered her unless there was news to share.

She knew it would be an encrypted and recorded message, it was too risky to ever call her and expect her to answer. She checked her beads once a week at different times and intervals, usually there was nothing there.

Shuri’s upper half materialized from the beads. Her voice was professional and calm, very unlike her.

“Malika, please return home. The Royal Talon will be waiting for you on the other side of the Nigandan-Cannan border at the following coordinates at 2 a.m. in seven days. Your presence has been requested in Wakanda for two months by order of the King. Please confirm that you received this message.”

“Anddddd this is why I never check this fuckin’ thing,” she mumbled, frustration coursing through her.

Two months??? The power of the throne had clearly gone to T’Challa’s head. And only giving her one week to prepare to leave? And how many children, she glanced at the photos in her book of each one, would go missing in that time? How many families would be torn apart while she stayed in the safe bosom of Wakanda?

She hated herself for knowing she had to go, hated him for forcing her hand. He knew how she felt about that place, knew why she had chosen the path and life she had chosen. Why she had only stepped foot in her borders twice in the last seven years. But an order from the King was an order from the King, she took liberties but even she could not refuse him.

As she laid in bed, frustrated, her mind already churned on what lie she could tell everyone to explain a two-month absence. She had already laid the groundwork for relatives in South Africa. Perhaps she could use that.

“Ugh!” She now only had a week to get everything in order. “Every King on this bast-forsaken continent is a tyrant,” she mumbled to herself before flopping to her side to try to sleep.

***

When Naja stepped off the Talon, she was thankful to only find General Okoye waiting for her, her stoic face a sight for sore eyes. She was thankful the rest of the family remembered she hated the excessive fanfare of returning home and immediately being pestered by a million people. It had been a long time since she saw many of them so she figured a certain King would ignore that directive. But she was thankful to have a moment to ease into seeing everyone. It was already an adjustment, as it always was to be back on Wakandan soil in the first place. It still felt new, every time, even though this was technically her home. It did not feel like home to her, not anymore.

“General,” her lips tugged into the smallest of smiles as she saluted her old friend. It was the first genuine smile she could remember giving someone in months. There was little happening in Niganda worth smiling about anyway and when she did, it was usually fake.

“Naja.” Once Okoye returned her salute, she reached out and squeezed Naja’s hand, Naja returning it gently, before their faces returned to their usual stoic and neutral expressions. “I trust your journey was well.”

“It was. Though it was difficult to spin my absence on such short notice. Do you know why the King saw it to order me home?”

“No.”

Her answer was simple, and Naja knew, untrue. Okoye was one of two people in this palace privy to all of the King’s decisions and thoughts. But she also knew Okoye would not give her a single inch. It was worth a shot though, she reasoned. But it also let her know the reason was not straightforward, which meant her nap in her quarters would have to wait.

“Of course. May you take me to his office if he is not too busy? I know the way to my room from there.”

Okoye did not nod or answer her. She merely changed the direction of their walk through the palace toward T’Challa’s office. Naja tried not to get too wrapped up in the bustling movement and sounds of the palace. The last time she was here, it felt more like a ghost town than anything else, lifeless and dreary. Wakanda had weathered the Blip better than most countries but it still struggled and during those five years, the palace wore the scars of its lost King and Princess and half its population. But with their return, life and joy returned to the palace and all of Wakanda. She was happy for it. They all deserved it, to be whole again.

She did not let the facade she had on fall until Okoye opened the door to T’Challa’s office, her brother in law sitting behind his desk reading. He glanced up, a wide smile gracing his tired but ever youthful features, as his eyes landed on Naja. He immediately stood up, joy rippling off of him like waves. One thing she always appreciated about T’Challa was, even when he and Nakia were not together, he treated her like a younger sister. A colder one than the one he actually had but a sister nonetheless.

“Thank you, General. Naja, welcome home.”

“My king,” she saluted him. She waited for the firm click of the door closing behind Okoye before she offered him a smirk. “My king summons, I answer.”

“No need for the formalities, sister. And I know you despise hugs. But it has been 7 years, humor me?” He rounded the desk to stand before her.

“I was told the Blip only felt like minutes to those of you who were gone. So technically, for you, it has only been two years. But as my king, I suppose you make the rules. You get seven seconds.” At his raised eyebrow, she shrugged. “One for each year.”

She allowed herself to be gathered up in his arms, the man squeezing tight. She forced herself not to fall into it, though she wanted to. The warm embrace of family, she had missed it. But instead, she merely cleared her throat, letting him know the timer on their emotional reunion had indeed run out.

To his credit, he immediately released her, his hands holding onto her forearms as he took a step back to examine her. She chuckled and rolled her eyes as he attempted to inspect her form for any injuries or drastic changes that would worry his Queen. Seven years might have passed since she last laid eyes on T’Challa at his coronation but time had done little to change either of them.

“You look well. Thin,” he remarked. “But well. How are you?”

“Glory to Bast, I am in good health,” she offered lazily as she sat in the seat opposite of his desk. She tried not to look at the pictures that littered the office, keeping her eyes trained on him, knowing she would find more than one that featured him. She did not need or want to see him ever again. “Food in the Capitol has been sparse since the return of everyone from the Blip.”

“Do you need more money? I know the alias and job you chose does not offer much.”

She shook her head. In addition to the money she made at the bar she worked at, all War Dogs received a salary discreetly added into their accounts disguised as local side jobs and businesses. She had more than enough money.

“No, no, no. Thanks to you, I am the world’s richest bartender. Just the monarchy hoarding resources, there is more than enough to go around for the wealthy. And the black markets continue to thrive there under the King’s nose but what I usually get from there, I give to those who need it more,” she shrugged. “I’m good. I’ve survived on less.”

“Anything of note on those black markets?”

She tilted her head before shaking it, T’Challa’s shoulders sagging a bit. “Aside from delicious meats and vegetables the royals have now deemed delicacies? No.”

“Well, make sure to eat two plates at dinner. Or else your sister will not rest tonight.”

She nodded. “Two plates? That feels gluttonous. Though I suppose I need to reacclimate to this… abundance,” her eyes flickered to the obvious signs of wealth and prestige littering his office. A pang of guilt hit her for even being able to indulge in it. “So I’m sure Nakia will make it her mission to fatten me up before I return home. So are you going to tell me why you’ve grounded me for two months? I hope it’s a good reason. Do you know how hard it will be to explain a two-month disappearance?”

T’Challa’s deep chuckle filled the office as he sat back in his chair. “Only you would consider a vacation and a bit of time off a punishment.”

She scoffed. “It is hardly a vacation when it comes as a direct order from my King himself, one he knows very well I would never refuse.”

“You could refuse.” His eyes twinkled with humor as he handed her a glass of Wakandan rum, the one thing he knew she missed from home.

“And face the wrath of the Black Panther?” She shook her head, throwing the entire glass back in one gulp before sighing contently. She slid the glass across the desk, gesturing toward the decanter, T’Challa refilling it for her. “The people outside these walls may call me ongenaloyiko* (the fearless one) but I am still smart enough to fear the greatest warrior in all Wakanda. But as your elder,” she started to say with a wink that she knew would agitate him.

“You may have surpassed me in years thanks to the Blip, dear Naja, but you are still my younger sister always,” he reminded her.

“Then tell me why you brought me back. Niganda is in a precarious place right now… things are… brewing. This is a long time to be gone.”

He raised an eyebrow. “The other War Dogs in the region report no issues. Remember, Naja…”

She sighed. “I know, I know. No interfering and we only care about things that threaten the interests of Wakanda. I’m being a good leashed watch dog now, I promise.” She knew she was not off to a good start, lying to him so soon. But she hated the new role expected of them. To witness the suffering of the world but do nothing to help. The other War Dogs in Niganda may be fine with such an existence but one thing she had in common with her sister, Naja would always do whatever she could, as long as life pumped in her veins.

“Good.” She was surprised he believed her. “I brought you back for many reasons. The first and most important being that your sister is pregnant,” Naja’s eyes widened. “And due any day now and she has spoken of what a great support you were during the birth of Prince T’Challa while I was…”

“Fake dead,” she supplied. She knew the Blip was not a laughing matter. It was traumatic for those gone and those who were forced to stay and carry on. But they had all survived, she saw little point in dwelling on it.

“Yes. And I knew she would be happy to have you here for the birth and a bit of time afterward as well. Second, you have a nephew that is growing day after day and barely knows you. I did not know my uncle before he died. You can understand that I would prefer for history not to repeat itself.”

“Don’t worry, I wasn’t planning on stealing vibranium and selling it to the highest bidder while I’m here,” she mumbled as her thumb traced patterns in the condensation of her glass, trying to stay aloof at the mention of his father.

“I’m serious, Naja. The War Dog program is important but N’Jobu taught me that it is not more important than family and connection. And third, I am hoping that some time back here will give you some perspective and perhaps… change your position on certain matters.”

She scoffed, standing up to pace his office. She was dressed simply, far too simply to address the King some would argue. But there were perks to her position and her reputation, no one would correct her. Her standard soft black pants and tank top provided comfort and agility and ensured she never stood out. Tucked into her waist band was a gun, she had forgotten to remove it on the plane. Though she felt safer with it, even here, on her person. She had left her other weapons at home, her calf felt uncomfortably bare without her blade attached to it.

“And there it is. So just so I understand the rules of engagement. Are you speaking to me now as my King or as my brother?”

“I speak to you as your brother, Naja, always.”

“Except when you ordered me home,” she muttered as she leaned against the window sill, her eyes starting into the heart of the capital city. A small part of her ached. She’d never admit it aloud but she did miss it sometimes. She had tried for so long to find something like it but nothing compared to Wakanda. She ignored that, pushing it into the depths where she stored every other feeling she did not want to deal with.

“You may reject the displays of our love and affection but it will stop none of us from giving it or caring for you.”

“I am happy with how things are now, T’Challa. I have no interest in changing my position on certain matters.”

“We are entering peace talks with Niganda, and while you do not trust them -”

“I do not trust them because they are untrustworthy,” she cut him off sharply. “I’m the best War Dog you have there. You’d do well to heed my warnings where the Nigandans are concerned.”

“If these negotiations go well, there is an opportunity for you to consider a position that is here in Wakanda. You are the best War Dog I have in any country on this planet, Naja. But it’s been 15 years. We have other War Dogs stationed in Niganda now, thanks to you, who can ensure the peace treaty is adhered to. You can come home.”

“Those other War Dogs don’t know what they are doing. And… This is not my home, T’Challa,” she muttered.

“You can spend as much time as you want away from our borders and pretend to be Malika, a lowly Nigandan bartender all you want. But you will always be Wakandan, Wakanda will always be home.”

“And the best way for me to honor Wakanda is by doing what I have always done: serve her. Protect her interests. In Niganda.”

She and T’Challa stared at each other for a few moments. While most would have withered under the intense gaze of their king, Naja did no such thing. It was T’Challa who finally broke their standoff, bowing his head as if to signal his surrender.

“For your sister’s sake, I ask that you merely consider it. She misses you terribly. And not just your physical absence. She misses who you were.”

She rolled her eyes and chuckled as she walked back over to his desk. Her eyes fell on a picture of T’Challa, Nakia, and their son. She picked up the frame, her fingers grazing along the patterns surrounding their smiling faces.

“Who I was is of little consequence now, T’Challa. This is who I am. It’s been 15 years and my sister would do well to accept this version of me. Wakanda and I are better for it anyway. Does she know I’m here?”

“No, it is a surprise for dinner tonight.”

She sucked her teeth before nodding. “Fine. I will serve out my two month sentence - without complaint - and I will not tell her of your clever but well-intentioned manipulation to force me here. But I say this with all the love and reverence for you as my brother and my King, when these two months are up, I will return to Niganda with or without your approval. Are we clear?”

Few could talk to T’Challa as she did or had the privilege to make demands. But when Naja spoke, T’Challa listened. “Crystal clear. It is good to have you home, sister. We missed your bubbly personality and disposition around here.”

“It is good to see you too, T’Challa. Congrats on the new baby. Next time you want to send me encrypted messages, send me good news like that. I’m going to lay down until dinner.”

“Naja!”

She stopped and turned around to face him once more.

“I recognize, accept, and love who you are now. But I would push back on one point.” At her raised eyebrow, he continued, “Wakanda is served well by every version of you because you love her and she loves you back. This version of you is extraordinary. But better implies there was something wrong with the equally extraordinary version of you from before. And there wasn’t.”

Something pricked the back of her eyes as she turned away from him, a sting she despised about as much as physical affection.

“This is why I hate coming back,” she huffed. “Tell anyone my eyes so much as misted and I’ll kill you in your sleep.”

He chuckled. “Bast’s fiercest warrior and daughter never cries. Even if my eyes witnessed such a feat, I would not know the words to share it with a soul.”

She smiled before exiting his office, immediately swallowing the emotion she felt. She hated how out of sorts she felt being back here. Seeing T’Challa in the flesh again after seven long years, the emotions of being back here in this home and in this city, finding out her sister was pregnant, the emotional exhaustion of switching from her alias back to Naja… this was why she preferred to be alone when she first got home. Had not been on Wakandan soil for an hour and she had already been through a rollercoaster of emotions.

Naja moved through the halls silently and swiftly, moving like a panther herself to ensure she did not run into her sister. Though she was not happy about being forced to return, she was excited to see her sister and her nephew. Though Nakia still treated her like a fragile dove, her sister loved her beyond comparison and reason.

When she finally found her way to her room, she stripped down and curled into bed immediately. A content sigh slipped from her lips as she settled into the comfort of the soft mattress and linens. The room was obscene, triple the size of her home in Niganda. It was home to her and served her needs but it left much to be desired compared to what she left behind.

Don’t get used to it, she thought to herself as she already started to drift off to sleep. Two months and then we’re out of here.

***

Naja yawned deeply as she rushed to dinner, realizing she was several minutes late. She hated that T’Challa was right, per usual.

A break from life as a spy was not so bad. She did not know how to relax and rest but her body seemed determined to ensure she did it. She slept like a rock, a call from T’Challa 10 minutes past dinnertime was the only thing to jolt her from her sleep.

She paused outside the family dining room, her heart warming as she heard her nephew spitting rapid fire questions at his parents about training. Her sister’s voice filled the room.

“Will you teach your sister how to train when she’s old enough?” She heard Nakia ask.

TJ’s small voice responded. “Would that be safe for her? I don’t want her to get hurt like I do.”

“As safe as it is for any Wakandan,” Naja offered with a teasing smile as she rounded the corner.

“Auntie Naja!!” TJ sprung from his seat with the strength of a cannon and ran into her outstretched arms. “I missed you!”

“My prince!! You are getting taller and taller every day!” She tickled his sides, his giggles filling the dining room and everyone’s hearts with warmth. “And when you’re training that little one in a few years, you should remember what my baba always told us. Our battle scars are our strength, our power, and…”

“A reminder from Bast that we lived another day to serve Wakanda,” TJ finished, reciting the words Nakia and Naja’s father always said.

She cradled him against her chest for a moment once more before letting him go, his small hand gripping around hers to drag her farther into the room.

“Now why doesn’t he have a time limit on your affection?” T’Challa’s voice was filled with fake indignation.

She merely shrugged as TJ demanded she take the open seat next to him.

“I simply like him better than you.”

However, before she sat, she rounded the table to her sister.

“Sister. No, don’t get up,” she cautioned as Nakia started to move. The hug she bestowed was longer than most would receive but she could tell by the unshed tears in Nakia’s eyes that she needed it. She cradled one hand to Nakia’s cheek before the other rested on her belly. “How are you? And how is my future niece, Wakanda’s next great warrior?”

“We are both well, even better now that you are here. You’re so thin.” She tsked slightly, T’Challa and Naja sharing a knowing glance and chuckle. “You need to catch me up on everything. But first sit. Eat.”

As she returned to her seat, she watched as a silent conversation passed between her King and Queen. Though Nakia’s face appeared happy, there was something brewing beneath the surface. She could sense the anger passing through her to T’Challa, a guilty look plastered on his face. She watched as he busied himself with his own plate to avoid her glare.

She did not know what to make of it as she piled food on her plate, she could not deny she was starving. However, she realized the reason for that silent conversation quickly as two voices grew louder and louder as they moved toward the dining room.

“If you had just listened to me, we wouldn’t have been late! Your elementary knowledge of nanotech is useless. I could’ve finished it in an hour if you hadn’t been there mansplaining,” Shuri ranted as she rounded the corner into the kitchen. She was so frustrated she did not even notice Naja at the table or acknowledge her.

“Aye! I went to MIT, short bit,” a sharp American voice filled the space, Naja’s blood turning to ice water, her head whipping toward the door so fiercely she could have broken her own neck. She felt as if her heart completely stopped as she watched Prince N’Jadaka enter the dining room. “That shit’s hardly element-” his words immediately fell off as his eyes fell on Naja, his entire body paralyzed in mid step.

The pair merely stared at each other, the dining room rapidly filling with tension so severe even the staff ceased moving. And only four people, save the Prince and Naja, knew the source of that tension. Her body did not move an inch, her fork still hovering in the space above her plate as indescribable rage took control of every cell in her body. She could feel it deep in her bones, 15 years worth of pain she had buried warped into a monster. Her nephew’s presence mere inches from her were the only calming presence she could feel, the only thing keeping everything from boiling over.

“Well… this is painfully awkward,” Shuri muttered as she sat down in her seat next to the Queen Mother. “W-Welcome home, Naja.”

She cleared her throat, an even and cold timbre falling on her voice. No longer did Naja, the sister and friend, sit at the table. Naja, the spy, with her iron clad facade sat before them. Cold, unfeeling, ruthless. Unbreakable, she reminded herself. That was the weapon she had fashioned herself into. That was who she was now. And she was better for it.

“Thank you, Princess. I am happy you are back and well. I see much has changed since my last visit. Erik.”

He had started to make his way to his own seat but stilled at the sound of his American name. It was the name he had gone by his entire time in Wakanda when he moved here as a child after his father’s death. Prince Erik, preferably just Erik, he forced everyone to call him. But Naja… she was the one person aside from T’Challa he allowed to call him by his Wakandan name. She knew he had once loved hearing her say it as much as she loved to say it. She knew the dig, however coded it was, hit its mark, a part of her savored in the hurt that crossed his face.

“I prefer N’Jadaka,” he offered as he sat down in the last open seat directly across from her, which only increased her anger.

“Hmm… So you have returned to Wakanda for the birth as well, Erik?” She asked, ignoring his preference. She would never call him N’Jadaka or prince again. She did not care if the whole damn country referred to him as such.

He sucked his teeth. “Nah. I’ve been back for months… I owed T and Wakanda a favor so I’m home for good, helpin’ rebuild after everythin’.”

The entire table seemed to shift as rage wafted off Naja. She cut her eyes from Erik to T’Challa, the rest of the room falling away as she threw him a glare that made him thankful the heart-shaped herb ran through his veins. However, beneath that glare, T’Challa knew it masked hurt and one question only he and Nakia could likely decipher.

How could you?

“I have suddenly lost my appetite. Sister, I will check in on you in the morning. Good night.” Her fork loudly clanked against the dinner china before she rose from the table. She ignored the calls of her sister and T’Challa for her to stay as she turned to leave. She slowed herself just enough to kiss her nephew on the forehead briefly before exiting without a second glance.

He was home… How could T’Challa not tell her? Tell her that she would be living under the same roof as him for months? Did he consider her too fragile for such knowledge? That her feeble, weak mind would collapse or fall apart? Those days were behind her.

She had turned all that hurt and pain into fuel, it drove her and pushed her. And now here he was, and all that hurt she suppressed for 15 years, all of that was back with one look at his face. She hated him, despised him. She did not want to look at him, much less sit across from him at every meal for the next two months.

She could not do it. Fuck the King’s commands. She was returning to Niganda tonight. Even if she had to hitch hike the entire way.

She was so wrapped up in her escape plan that she did not hear the footsteps behind her until she felt a presence directly on her back. Without thought, she pulled out the gun still tucked in her waistband and cocked it, aiming it directly at… T’Challa.

She ignored the bang of the Doras’ spears on the ground as she kept the gun aimed at him. She was thankful it was just him. That was the one thing she did not enjoy about her life as a spy, her instincts were too difficult to turn off now.

“Still ever vigilant, I see?” T’Challa raised his hand to the Dora, silently ordering them to stand down, wholly unperturbed at having a gun pointed at his chest.

“Well, you never know when someone’s gonna betray you,” she spat with venom that made him flinch.

“I understand you’re upset...”

“You understand nothing,” she seethed, taking a step toward him. She lowered the gun, the weapon shaking in her hand. “I understand that you knew I would not agree to return if I knew he was here so instead of telling me of the birth and asking me to return, you forced my hand. I understand that you used your title and my love for my sister as manipulation to force a reconciliation. It. Is. Not. Happening.”

“You cannot avoid him forever. You are both part of this family.”

She paced, agitated and frustrated. “I can and will avoid him forever. Because if I don’t, I will use his body to test out the multitude of ways I know how to kill someone.. I can’t believe you didn’t warn me he was here.”

“I am sorry. I thought it would help but I was wrong.” He sighed before gesturing at the gun. “Will it help?”

She thought about it and nodded.

The black fibers of his suit emerged and covered his whole body. With perfect precision, she shot him over and over again, emptying her clip until his suit was bright purple with the stored kinetic energy of each bullet. The loud bangs reverberated through the halls, her eardrums rattled.

“Better?” He asked when she finally lowered the gun and tucked it back in its hiding spot.

“Yes… and no. You’re still able to talk,” she muttered. Though shooting something did take the edge of her anger off.

“I am sorry for deceiving you. You are right, I knew you would not return if you knew Erik had returned home permanently. But your sister… and I… we need you here. I know what he did, the pain he caused you. And if you do not speak to him ever again, you would be within your right. But I ask very little of you, Naja. And right now, I am asking you to stay here,” Naja was annoyed that he somehow already realized she was going to run back home. “And endure for us. Two months and then you can leave and I will not utter a word to convince you to stay. I promise.”

She nodded. “Fine. But just so you know, any ill conceived notion you had of me returning to this country for good? That is gone now. As long as Erik Stevens calls Wakanda home, I never will.” She turned on her heels and disappeared down the hall, leaving T’Challa alone surrounded by shell casings.

She only paused when she heard him yell back, “I’ll have dinner sent to your room. Please eat or your sister will kill me.”

She scoffed. “That’s not reason enough,” she called back. Though they both knew she would eat whatever was brought to her.

***

Unlike Naja, Erik was able to hide his emotions a tad bit better and hold it together through dinner. However, his emotions did not include rage, except for toward T’Challa. All he had felt at dinner was the hot, uncomfortable spotlight of guilt and shame. What he had done, he’d never forgive himself. And any stupid notion he once had that Naja could forgive him one day was wiped out in a manner of minutes.

“What the fuck, T?” Erik demanded as he stormed into T’Challa’s office, the King nursing a glass of rum as he continued to work.

“Your ex already shot me several times this evening, figuratively and literally. So go easy on me, N’Jadaka.”

“You told me she didn’t ever come back to Wakanda? That she moved on??

T’Challa shrugged. “Those things are not untrue. Naja is a War Dog stationed in Niganda,” he admitted. “You wanted nothing to do with Wakanda once you left and worked for the US Government so I could not reveal War Dog identities to you. And when you came back, I thought it best that she remain out of sight and out of mind.”

Erik’s eyes grew wide. “W-wait, w-wait… a watch and report back War Dog or a Hatut Zeraze-era War Dog?”

There was a distinction, one only a precious few in the country knew. For most, the War Dogs were merely spies, a Wakandan-style CIA force that watched, patiently integrating themselves into their host country’s world to report back critical information to protect Wakanda. However, past kings used a specialized force of them for other purposes, ones the average Wakandan knew nothing of, purposes that actually kept Wakanda safe and protected all these years.

T’Challa sighed and rubbed his eyes. “The latter until my coronation. She was handpicked during training by my father, and worked her way up to leading missions across the continent and beyond.”

Erik scoffed. “Missions… I know what missions mean. Assassinations, torture.”

T’Challa tilted his head. “None that we would ever admit to. She is stationed in Niganda 90% of the time unless my father needed her for another assignment. When I became king, I disbanded that portion of the War Dogs and she has been our lead War Dog in Niganda ever since.”

The stinging heat of anger and fear prickled his brain. The Naja he remembered was soft, not in a bad way either. You wanted to lean into her and soak up her warmth. It was comforting and soothing. However, he knew first hand the things she would have had to do to be part of that specialized force. And he would not wish the damage all that had done to his own soul on anyone else, least of all her.

“’N you didn’t think to tell a nigga she was comin’?”

“I thought 15 years was enough time for you both to move past everything that transpired. Clearly I was wrong.”

“She still hates me?”

T’Challa scoffed. “Is there a word stronger than hate? Because that may be more accurate.” He paused. “Do you still feel guilty?”

Erik merely nodded, his finger fidgeting with his father’s ring, which he had worn around his neck since he was a small boy.

“15 years and one look at her and all that shit just comes right back,” he let out a low whistle. “She looks damn good. Different though. Not just physically. She’s colder than I remembered.”

“You miss her?”

He nodded. “Yea, being back here this year. She’s gone but every fuckin’ place in this damn country reminds me of her. I fucked up.”

“You still love her?”

Erik shrugged. “A lack of love was never the issue. Doesn’t matter if 50 years go by… it’d still be her. Only her. Who knows, maybe I can make this shit right. Can’t be a coincidence that Bast brought us both back?”

“May I be honest with you, cousin?”

“Me saying no ain’t ever stopped you.”

“When Naja first joined the War Dogs, her father made a personal plea to my father and I to reject her application. When I asked him why, he said that though they were crafted by the same hand, his daughters could not be more different. Nakia, he said, was an assassin’s blade. Beautiful, striking, and when wielded with the right hand, deadly. While Naja was no weapon at all. She was a delicate sculpture, something to gaze upon, he said. She could be a weapon, like anything. But one blow would be all you get and the cost would destroy her and she would never be the same again.”

“This fuckin’ Wakandan proverb shit,” Erik mumbled. “Like what the fuck does that even mean?”

“It means… You broke her, N’Jadaka. And that isn’t a judgment or condemnation,” he added at the pain that flashed across his face. “I understood then and now what ailed you when you did what you did. But you broke her. And to cope with that pain, like you, she picked up all those broken pieces and fashioned herself into a weapon that is more deadly than even Nakia ever was. Someone who is unbreakable. She is the most lethal weapon I’ve ever seen with stunning effectiveness and precision. She is pragmatic, she is cold, she is cunning, and merciless. And for her, love for anything other than this country and its throne is weakness. She is not the Naja you left here 15 years ago. She may look like the woman you love but she is an entirely different person, N’Jadaka. Be wise and remember that.”

“What are you saying?”

“I am saying that as much as I would love to see the two of you reconcile, this Naja will sooner kill you before she will let you close enough to break her ever again. Goodnight, cousin.” T’Challa grabbed his glass and stood up, walking to the door, leaving Erik to contemplate the consequences of his actions.

Tag List: @miyuhpapayuh @pipsqueak-98 @injerafiend @themakingsofdion

A/N: Ok I've never written Erik before so I'm really excited. I also feel like this OC is very unlike my others so I'm excited about.

Drop a comment and let me know what you thought or if you want to be tagged!

#black writers #michael b jordan #michael b jordan x oc #mbjordanedit #michael b jordan x reader #black panther #erik kilmonger x reader #erik killmonger angst #erik killmonger #Erik Stevens x reader #michael b jordan fanfic

192 notes · View notes

atombonniebaby · 5 months

Text

Woo I actually have a WIP for WIP Wednesday and some art! 🙌

(I don't have the spoons to tag... mutual creatives... do your thing! ❤)

I got caught up playing again...but finally getting some more words out and this whole chapter was one I was dreading because I didn't know how I wanted it to pan out... I'm happy with it... it's just pure carnage and nothing going to plan!

Inspired by that one time we went to the Glowing sea and got our asses handed to us by 12 ferals, 7 Radscorpians and a Deathclaw...

I imagine this is Nate's battle track 🙌

"Fuck!" Nate's heart jumps into his throat, the familiar feeling of his stomach plummeting as the ground crumbles beneath them. The earth spins below him, tilting this way and that. His knees buckle and catches the horror in Danse's eyes, the glint of steel armour as he lands on his ass, the impact jarring his spine and rattling his bones.

In their distraction they missed the signs, the click of claws digging into the dirt, the shift in the shadows. They'd been so focused on the threat in front of them that they didn't notice the ones below.

A rad scorpion rears up, it's tail raised high and poised to strike, it's segmented body suspended over the hole with its legs braced on either side.

The stinger whips forward, the barbed tip piercing straight through the soft spot between the chest piece and pelvis plate. Nate holds his gasp, beaded eyes meet his, clicking mandibles and long protruding jaws.

Time slows. There's no pain, there's no sting. The poison has already started working, numbing his body and muddling his mind.

The sounds of laser fire and shouting are drowned out by the rush of blood in his ears, by the throbbing of his heart, by his own panicked gasping.

Two more scorpions join the fold, together, Danse and MacCready fight them back. But they won't see. The forth scorpion. It's crawling over him. It's right above him. Tail... Stinger... Pointed right between his eyes.

No! NO!

The tip punctures through the glass shielding him from the toxic air. Cracks spider web out from the point of impact. A second strike lands, and then a third.

Nate panics. He can't breathe, gasping in lungfuls of irradiated air as Amari's words pulse in his ears: "...enough radiation to kill a man in seconds".

38 notes · View notes

rottengurlz · 7 months

Note

just a girl in your inbox politely begging you to pan the camera down. please

sadly amari doesn't conform to the whoreity like enzo does 😔 but you can have this photo avery forced amari to take. he promised no one would ever see it he just wanted to send it to Noelle (noelle is everyones angel so ofc he said yes when it came to her) but he posted it to his instagram right after and called amari his little bottom feeder and then tagged them

#asks #yes Avery stole the shirt from Noelle 😒#gay bitches!! 🫵🏼🫵🏼#oc: Avery #oc: Amari

44 notes · View notes

sparkingcircuits · 3 months

Text

HIKIKI AU CHARACTER DESCRIPTIONS: The Headspace Cast!

(also thanks to @/princesstears0901 for the au name i actually love it so much it’s so clever)

Kiki: Our main character of sorts, and the youngest of the group! He doesn’t seem to talk much, or really at all, but he’s still quite the friendly face! He has been working on being more assertive, thanks to Carmine’s encouragement, so he usually takes the lead when him and his friends go on adventures!

He doesn’t specialize in any specific type on his team, and when it is needed, his weapon of choice is his trusty knife.

Carmine: Kiki’s wonderful sister! She’s strong, assertive, and determined, but can be a bit rude and snarky at times. She means well, though! She’s been trying to get Kiki to stand up for himself more often, and the progress she’s seen has made her very happy! She and Drayton tend to get into a LOT of banter, sometimes seeming like a full blown argument, but those that have been around the two know they’re just messing with each other!

She doesn’t specialize in any specific type on her team, and she tends to stay by their picnic tables while the others go on adventures.

Amarys: One of Carmine’s best friends, and also is friends with everyone else! She’s quite smart, and always tells the truth, even if it may hurt. Kiki finds it nice that she would never lie to him. She can sometimes be a bit blunt with her words, and others might see her as a bit of an odd one out when looking over the whole group, but her friends don’t care, they’re friends after all!

She specializes in steel types, and much prefers to use her team in battles. Though, if required, she will use her metal bat to protect herself or her friends.

Crispin: One of the most social members of the group, Crispin is quite the energetic person! Sometimes he may miss a social cue here or there, but that’s fine! He’s got quite the passion for cooking, especially when it comes to spicy food. He prefers it much better when everyone is happy, as to him, everyone seems to linger just a bit too long on negative emotions. He can be a bit blunt, like Amarys, so the two occasionally get into small arguments. It’s never too big of an issue, though!

He specializes in fire types, and if needed, will use his trusty frying pan as a weapon, using both to heal up his friends, and to burn the enemies with spice!

Drayton: One of the oldest members of the group, Drayton is quite the character. He tends to playfully make fun of the others, which sometimes can make him seem like a douche, but he does care for his friends! He just shows it in his own way, is all. Since Carmine tends to stay behind when they go on adventures, Drayton has taken the role of the “adult” of the group, which, may or may not have been the best decision. He does keep them out of trouble, though, and that can’t be ignored, even if Kiki thinks he’s a bit annoying sometimes.

He specializes in dragon types, and his weapon of choice is his “sparkling personality,” aka, he mostly just makes sure the others are okay instead of fighting himself.

Lacey: Last, but definitely not least, is Lacey! One might call her the peacekeeper of the group, as she tends to make sure the arguments within the group don’t get too extreme! A kind and gentle soul, but don’t underestimate her, she is also quite strong, and has a very high sense of right and wrong. She also has an in depth knowledge of fairy types, which also gives her a bit of a knowledge on plants, as there are a good few fairy types that have some involvement with nature. But just because they’re cute does not mean they are weak, and Lacey will make sure that people know that!

Her specialty is fairy types, and she doesn’t have a weapon of choice, since she doesn’t really like battling in hand to hand combat.

Unfortunately, Lacey is currently missing.. Hopefully Kiki and his friends will be able to find her soon!

#hikiki au #kieran pokemon #pokemon kieran #omori au #sparks notes.txt #scarlet violet au #runs in circles in my enclosure #it’s been like one day and i’ve already got so many ideas. my goodness

17 notes · View notes

theqcontinuumatemysoul · 9 months

Text

New DS9 OC Yidtra Amari!

-Cardassian Female

-age 23

-height: 5’9”

-she/they pronouns

-bi/pan

-gentle soul but devastatingly intelligent

(Young alien woman with grey skin and reptilian ridges on her forehead. She has long curly hair and has a smile on her face. She is wearing a short geometric dress.)

#my art #star trek #mun's art #accessible art #my ocs #deep space nine #cardassians

34 notes · View notes

carewyncromwell · 2 years

Photo

“When you're all alone, far away from home, There's a gift the angels send When you're alone... Everyday must end, but the night's a friend -- Angels always send a star When you're alone... At night, when I'm alone, I lie awake and wonder -- Which of them belongs to me? Which one, I wonder...?”

~“When You’re Alone (cover)” by Jess Anderson

x~x~x~x

previous part (with more context) here! // full tag here! // original concept of Duncan Ashe in this universe inspired by conversations with @ag907

x~x~x~x

Now, one must keep in mind, Merula was truly not a terrible person. She wasn’t even a terrible fairy. But what she ended up doing to Carewyn and by extension Orion was objectively pretty spiteful, so some context is necessary. And that context begins with the introduction of a new player in this tale -- the helmsman of the Jolly Roger, who was known by Neverland’s residents as the Pirate Without Pirate Eyes. The name he answered to was Ashe.

Ashe was the second newest addition to the Jolly Roger’s crew. As such, he still remembered his home of London, or at least pieces of it. He remembered living with many other boys there and hating it quite a lot. He remembered a lot of locked doors and dead bodies being carried out. And he remembered first arriving in Neverland, as a young man -- of catching sight of the Jolly Roger’s outline in the clouds one night through his window and running out into the street so he could cry out to it in the black of night for it to take him away. (He was far more a young man than a mere boy at that time, but he had been very feverish, and his mind had not been clear enough for his common sense to put down such childish fancies.) And that was how Ashe was conscripted into a life of piracy aboard the Jolly Roger, beside the magical island of Neverland, where its residents never fell ill and never grew old.

It was a pretty decent arrangement for Ashe, all things considered. And that arrangement improved when his employer, Captain Hook, brought another new crewmate aboard -- one exactly Ashe’s age, sixteen. This crewmate was called Jack, though in the beginning, he insisted there was more to that name.

“My name is Jacob!” Jack had snarled at Hook, when he tried and failed to pull out of Blaise and Pearl’s combined hold. “Jacob Evan Cromwell! And I will never work for the likes of you!”

Jack was worn down soon enough, though. Hook was very good at pinpointing a person’s weaknesses and exploiting them, and soon enough the captain determined that Jack’s was fear -- not for himself, but for his loved ones. A certain loved one in particular usually kept Jack in line.

“Obey me,” Hook whispered in such an effortlessly icy tone, it was like he was Frost incarnate, “or I shall find sweet Winnie, and force her to obey instead.”

“Winnie.” Jack often called her simply “Wyn,” but Ashe had heard plenty about her second-hand through Hook and Jack. She was Jack’s little sister, and too good to be true, from the sound of it -- sweet, brave, and caring, with a voice like a cherub and a heart too big for her tiny frame to contain. Jack clearly thought the world of his little sister, and Hook -- whether to twist the knife in Jack further or out of pure sadism -- seemed to relish the thought of having her in his grip as well, to do with as he pleased. And that thought was something Jack dreaded -- dreaded so much that he actually fraternized with the enemy, Orion Amari.

When Ashe had woken up to find Jack sneaking off the Jolly Roger and covertly followed him, he came across his fellow pirate speaking to Orion in the woods. And what Ashe heard was like a club to the back of his head.

“...She’s younger than me – much younger, with ginger hair – small and sweet as a cherub. She’s brave and sharp and she sings like a bird...”

Ashe's eyebrows knit tightly over his eyes. Jack’s sister? Why would he tell Orion Amari about -- ?

“She’d fit right in with your sort – no one would have any idea she has anything to do with me. Just…spirit her away, like Hook did me. Take her with you, and keep her safe here, in Neverland. She doesn’t need to know I’m here, or even why you took her, just…just keep her away from Hook. Please.”

Ashe felt like all of the color had left his face.

“Keep her away from Hook?” No...no, Jack couldn’t be serious -- he couldn’t actually be trying to sabotage the Captain --

“And what will you give me in return?” Orion Amari’s boyish voice was very soft and calculating in his response. For however hard to read his overall affect was, he was clearly interested.

Part of Ashe wanted to just bolt from the trees at that very moment -- grab onto Jack and pull him back away from the Flying Boy, shout him down angrily, scold him fiercely -- stop him from making whatever deal with Devil he thought was so bloody important that he’d --

But Jack’s response made Ashe’s heart still just as much as he physically had, as he strained to listen.

“Anything. Anything.”

The desperation of Jack’s voice in that moment flooded Ashe’s veins with an emotion he’d never known before. It chilled him from head to toe, while also lashing at his insides like some terrible poison. It made him hunch in on himself, staring at the ground, as Jack and Orion’s voices faded away into nothing but an indiscernible buzzing hum.

Jack...would do anything, for his little sister. Anything to make sure she didn’t become a pirate the way Hook clearly wanted her to be -- anything to keep her away from him. Even if Jack himself was a pirate, even if Ashe was a pirate and liked being a pirate...the thought of his little sister being one was something Jack couldn’t bear. He saw his fate as so unbearable...that he was willing to do anything to make sure his little sister didn’t share it...

Ashe had known Jack had been taken to Neverland against his will -- of course he knew that. Jack had rebelled against Hook more than enough to make that clear. But Jack had started to forget the world outside Neverland, as everyone eventually does -- he’d resigned himself to the position he was now in, he’d accepted it. It had encouraged Ashe, that Jack had started to forget -- Jack always seemed happier, when he was able to forget...and really, he made for an excellent pirate! He was endlessly curious about things -- brilliant, dynamic -- excitable about seemingly tiny, insignificant things. It bewildered Ashe to no end, but it was also oddly endearing. He’d never known anyone like Jack before...he’d never felt for anyone, the way he had Jack. Even now he’d long forgotten or cared about who he was before, Ashe knew this, down to his bones.

And yet...his sister, his “Wyn”...kept Jack tethered. She was the line that kept him from flying free, off into the atmosphere, free from grief and loss and sorrow and pain. She was someone...who he couldn’t forget.

Unable to handle the ball of jealousy, sorrow, and conflict rotating sickeningly inside of him, Ashe swiftly left, pushing roughly through the tall leaves and bushes out of the forest and back toward the Jolly Roger.

Ashe didn’t speak to Jack for about a week. He couldn’t. Jack had betrayed the pirate captain they both served, and yet Ashe couldn’t even fathom the idea of reporting what he’d done to Hook. Jack was the only person on the Jolly Roger who was Ashe’s age and, more important, the only person Ashe really liked. Pearl was the muscle and firepower, devoid of just about any compassion for anyone else, while Claire was the “yes-man” who probably had more water in her head than a brain...and the First Mate, Blaise, was just as manipulative as Hook in his “caring” for the crew, but with a hotter temper. For all of Jack’s own faults -- his own violent temper, when provoked, and how much of an airhead blabbermouth he could be -- he had this driving instinct to help more than hurt, to do more good than bad...to sacrifice...put himself in the line of fire, for those he felt something for...

Ashe spoke to Jack again after he’d had to pick him, Hook, Pearl, Blaise, and Claire from Marooner’s Rock. He’d scolded Jack for quite a while for putting so much strain on his broken leg.

“For Pete’s sake,” he muttered irritably, “pain doesn’t even exist here in Neverland, unless you dwell on it -- ”

“You expect me to forget that Hook broke my leg?” said Jack.

“You’ll heal faster if you just let Neverland’s magic do its work,” Ashe shot back.

"Hardly! Neverland’s magic is to make you forget, not undo anything...otherwise Hook’s hand would’ve just popped right back to life after getting eaten by the Croc, wouldn’t it have? So, by that logic, the most Neverland would do is just make me forget what happened and forget that it’s supposed to hurt -- no injury can just go poof into the ether, not without a proper splint and bandaging and -- ”

“Put a sock in it!” snapped Ashe. “Ugh -- just...stop overthinking everything!”

Despite his waspishness, Ashe still changed Jack’s bandages and tightly rebound his wound.

Fortunately within a few weeks, Jack had forgotten about Hook breaking his leg. Kind of hard not to, when the life of a pirate involved so much routine -- trimming the sails, swabbing the decks, sailing around the island, chasing Lost Kids, almost killing Orion Amari for the eightieth time -- that it was easy to forget little things like that. Within those few weeks, Jack even returned to the self Ashe had become accustomed to -- angry and rebellious toward Hook, sure, but delighted by Neverland and its beauty. At one point Ashe had even actually managed to capture a fairy, and Jack had spent an entire evening studying it and its wings with an almost reverent glee.

“Just look at the length of this forewing, Ashe!” he said, perfectly ignorant of how much the fairy struggled to try to get free. “Even if it’s so much like a butterfly’s, it’s so perfectly clear, like a dragonfly’s, and yet long and pointed, more like a cicada’s...and that sheen! Like it’s made of some sheer diamond! And the dust!”

He gave the fairy a little shake, so as to collect a handful of the dust that came up off the wings and grind it through his fingers like sand.

“It just dissolves away, into the skin! It evaporates -- like snow melting in your hand...”

Something flickered in his pirate-like blue eyes as he smiled.

“Snow...”

The flicker grew a little stronger as he stared at the dust slowly fading into his rubbing fingers.

Ashe’s own dry smile faded.

“Jack?”

But Jack didn’t seem to hear him. Something melancholy seemed to pass over his face, peeling the boyish smile slowly from his face.

“Think of Christmas...think of snow...think of sleigh bells...off you...go...”

His eyes grew a little wider, more aware. In an instant he’d released the fairy, and the frightened, furious little creature flapped away, back toward the mainland.

“Jack!” said Ashe, looking upset and irritated. He’d worked hard to catch that!

But Jack didn’t seem to care. He’d clearly come back down to Earth -- and as he stared out at the island of Neverland, his pirate-like blue eyes rippled with anguish that he nonetheless fiercely tried to hold in.

“...I forgot,” he murmured.

“Well, of course you did,” Ashe scolded him lightly. “Everyone forgets, Jack.”

But Jack didn’t answer. He instead kept his gaze on the mainland, his eyes drifting off into the high trees.

Ashe frowned deeply. He looked from Jack’s shoulder to up at his face and back.

“Jack,” he said lowly, “maybe you should forget.”

“No,” said Jack stubbornly.

“Neverland is supposed to make you forget!” Ashe challenged him. “It’s supposed to be a place where you can forget the past -- forget the world of mortal men. It’s supposed to be a place where your wildest dreams come true...”

Steadying his courage, Ashe took hold of Jack’s shoulder.

“You were happy until just a few seconds ago,” he said very lowly. “Is it so bad to just be happy?”

Jack pulled out of Ashe’s grip and walked over to the far railing. “You don’t understand.”

This response and withdrawal only served to make Ashe flush with anger. “You’re right, Jack, I don’t!”

Ashe pursued Jack across the deck, grabbing onto the railing as he came around to look at him better, even as Jack faced the sea and not him.

“Jack, I know what this is about,” he said fiercely. “I know this is about ‘Wyn,’ your -- your saintly little bugger of a sister -- ”

An acidic lump formed in Ashe’s throat at the thought.

“ -- but she’s -- she’s lost to you! You’re never going to see her again, all right? You don’t want her here -- you don’t want her to be a pirate -- ”

Jack closed his eyes and turned away, but Ashe strutted harshly around, so as to look him in the face again.

“So just -- just FORGET her!” Ashe implored him. “Forget her, and start over, here, in Neverland!”

Jack turned away again and didn’t answer. It made Ashe come around Jack a second time and hold his shoulders in place, trying even harder to get him to look at him.

“Why would you even want to be anywhere else?” Ashe asked him, his lips turning up in a weak, beseeching smile. “Here, you’re free! You never have to worry or take anyone else’s burdens on as your own! You never have to care about what other people think of you, who you are or what you like – ”

Images of unfamiliar, disgusted, condescending faces -- of punches and distorted, swearing voices -- rippled over Ashe’s mind. He blinked them away at once.

“-- you can just be you, fully you, and nobody else!”

Jack wordlessly pulled out of Ashe’s grip with seemingly little effort. Ashe chased him across the deck.

“You can go on grand adventures,” Ashe persisted, “explore things no one else has ever seen!”

He sped up, looping around in front of Jack to stop him from walking past him.

“You never have to get sick, grow old, or die,” said Ashe, his eyes flashing with both aggravation and desperation. “You never have to grieve or feel pain again!”

He grabbed onto Jack’s arms, his hands squeezing tight.

“You can live, Jack,” he said earnestly.

Jack finally opened his eyes and looked up at Ashe. The pirate-like blue glinted with such melancholy, and yet there were some odd cinders of resilience there.

“…Is that living, Ashe?” he said very softly.

Pulling one arm free of Ashe’s hold, he brandished it widely toward Neverland, across the railing.

“Is it freedom, to run around chasing and scaring children in some petty game of revenge? To mindlessly obey the whims of our Captain, and never ask why?”

Ashe’s grip on Jacob’s remaining arm faltered. Before he could speak, however, Jack pressed on more insistently.

“To kidnap people and spirit them away to a land where they forget everything of who they were and who they loved, for no other reason than just to add more members to our ranks?”

Jack strode back up to the railing, swinging his arms out theatrically wide as he whirled around back toward Ashe.

“Is this life?!” he demanded, his blue eyes shining with emotion the likes of which Captain Hook’s could never know. “Being stuck as we are forever, separated from the entire rest of the world – doomed to never be more than we are right now?”

“It could be,” Ashe said lowly. “If you stay.”

With me.

Jack stared at Ashe for a very long moment. His blue eyes pulsed with remorse, as well as something softer, almost...beseeching. Then, closing his eyes again, he turned away.

“I am staying, Ashe,” he murmured. “Even if I did remember where I was from before, I could never hope to fly back there...I’m far too old for that...”

He rested his crossed arms on the railing and bowed his head.

“...Without Wyn...” his voice barely came out as a whisper, “there’s no reason for me to go back anyway...”

Ashe stiffened up sharply.

Had Jack even realized what he’d just said? That he’d basically admitted that Wyn was no longer in the Other World -- that she was, in fact, here, in Neverland...with Orion Amari and his Lost Kids?

No...it seemed to have just been him thinking out loud. It was made much more obvious by just how quiet Jack got afterwards -- like he’d momentarily forgotten anyone else, even Ashe, was still there.

He’d forgotten her...and yet now, remembering the pain of being apart from her...he’d forgotten all of the happiness and enthusiasm he’d felt, just moments before...

Ashe’s lips came together tightly as he watched Jack at the railing.

He would never be truly happy, so long as they were apart. Ashe could see it clearly now. Jack would never be able to forget his life before, so long as he was without the one thing that made him remember it -- his “Wyn.”

Gloom, resentment, and shame swirled through Ashe’s veins as he turned his back on Jack at last. As he walked away from Jack, right off the Jolly Roger, he tried to block out the sound of Jack’s melancholic, angelic Tenor voice dancing over the wind --

“And any star I choose watches over me, So I know I'm not alone when I'm here on my own... Isn't that a wonder? When you're alone, you're not alone -- not really...alone...”

Meanwhile, on the mainland, the Lost Kids had finished unwrapping all of their “Christmas gifts.” Merula had as well, but she had left the proceedings a while ago -- a fact that nobody had really paid much mind to, at the time.

At first everyone compared the pockets Carewyn had made for them -- then, at another point, they badgered Carewyn to tell them the story about Father Christmas (which ended up involving him befriending a penguin and facing off against an ice wizard at one point). Then mid-afternoon the Lost Kids set about playing with the new wooden crocodile Skye had made for Orion, pretending it was the real “Tick-Tock” crocodile and passing it to whomever was “It” in their game of tag. Orion at several points had to put a halt to the game whenever anyone got hurt, at which point Carewyn would wrap the injury up with some spare ribbon and the kid in question would completely forget about it and get back to playing.

It was close to the evening when Carewyn was preparing everyone for bed that Bill reminded Carewyn and Orion of something very important.

“Leave all that stuff to me,” he told them with his arms crossed and his mouth spread into a proud smile. “You need to get ready to go out.”

Carewyn blinked. “Go out?”

Charlie’s eyes lit up as he realized what Bill was talking about. “Oh yeah! Mothers and Fathers always go out for a party on Christmas night, while Bill and I look after the others!”

“The others meaning us?” said Tonks brightly.

Bill frowned slightly. “...I guess so...”

Before he could think on this too deeply, though, Charlie interrupted him. “It’s always fun! We pretend to go to sleep and then wake back up and eat sweets while Mum and Dad aren’t home...”

Carewyn put her hands on her hips. “Charlie!”

“Hey, it’s all in good fun!” laughed Charlie. “We also make our beds and clean up the kitchen nicely, so Mum won’t be mad...”

Carewyn still looked faintly disapproving, but when she caught Orion’s eye, she saw him smiling wryly.

“Well, then, if that’s what’s meant to be done on a proper Christmas...Bill, you’re in charge, until your ‘Mother’ and I get back.”

Bill straightened up with a bright grin and saluted. “Aye, aye, sir.”

And so Erika and Face Paint Kid helped Carewyn “get ready” to go out by helping her put on the new breastplate and belt Bill and Charlie had given her and fixing the tiny forget-me-not flowers the centaurs had given her in her hair. They really were just the same color as her eyes.

Once Carewyn was ready, Orion -- his mouth spread into a very white, amused smile -- extended an arm for her to take and floated with her to the worn little tunnel that led to the surface.

“Now, children, behave yourself while we’re out,” Carewyn said in a rather good imitation of a plump, red-haired woman she only vaguely remembered. “I’ve left you some spare ribbon by the armchair if you need it, Bill. And Charlie, eat your sweets and then tidy up the kitchen. That way you won’t have to clean it twice.”

“Yes, Mum,” Charlie teased.

Bill was grinning broadly too, clearly just as amused by the game as anyone. “Have fun, you two!”

His grin broadening further, Orion then swept up into the air, pulling Carewyn along behind him.

Orion flew with Carewyn through the trees for a long way. At several points, Carewyn asked where they were going, only for Orion to quiet her with a finger beside his lips. At long last, after what felt like a half-hour, they reached a glade near the far south end of the island -- the home of the legendary Pixie Hollow.

This Hollow was the home of all Neverland fairies. Every tree therein sparkled with fine lines of gold and rainbow dust, for these trees were nourished by fairy dust the same way trees in our world drink water. Even the dew excreted from their branches glittered like gems. And at the center of all of these trees was the grandest and most beautiful of all of them -- the Great Tree, where the Queen of the Fairies reigned. And on this very night, the Fairies and their Queen were hosting a grand ball, so as to celebrate their newest arrivals. It was a ball that was thrown quite regularly, actually, but given how short one’s memory really was in Neverland, it always felt like a remarkable event.

It was here, therefore, that Orion took Carewyn...and as he’d hoped, she was enamored with the sight. As the fairies flitted out from the tree, dancing through the air and singing a song as high and tinkling as bells, Carewyn gasped, her free hand flying to her mouth.

“Oh, Orion!” she breathed in delight.

She gave his arm a squeeze, unable to express how in awe she was. When she looked at him, the fairies’ light danced in her pirate-like blue eyes.

Orion’s eyes softened just seeing the pure, girlish happiness in her face. She even seemed lighter, just floating beside him.

With a playful smile, he gave her a light push. With a laugh, Carewyn soared backwards, up higher into the air. She swept through the crowds of tiny dancing fairies with as much grace as a swan, her arms outstretched and her eyes closed. Her flushed face was spread into a bright grin as her ginger hair flapped into her face and she laughed.

Freedom. This was what it had to be like, wasn’t it? To be completely free, weightless as a bird, with no worries, no cares? Free to be yourself, and only yourself, and have that be enough?

“Don’t you know what Neverland truly is, Carewyn?”

Carewyn felt someone bringing their arms around her. She opened her eyes again, to see Orion beaming from ear to ear at her.

“Freedom,” Orion’s words came back to Carewyn again, and it made her start to giggle happily.

His black eyes sparkling, Orion twirled her around, mirroring the dancing fairies around them. The two danced a mid-air waltz as fine as any fairy, and all the while, they laughed more fully and happily than either of them could remember.

Playing pretend and doing silly things, all without care of anyone else or what they might think -- just enjoying time together, just the two of them, connecting and laughing and enjoying each other’s smiles...

This was fun. It was so much fun...

Little did Carewyn and Orion know they were being watched -- nor that the two sets of eyes were so close together.

One set of eyes were tiny and pink and narrowed with suspicion as they darted from Carewyn and Orion to the owner of the other set of eyes, who she’d spotted leaving the Jolly Roger and promptly decided to follow.

This second set of eyes were brown and sharp-lidded -- rather unusual for the likes of a pirate -- and were fixed squarely on Carewyn as she floated around Orion in mid-air.

Could that be her? Ashe thought to himself suspiciously.

His hand lingered on the pistol on his belt, but he remained hidden in the tall leaves. He had no idea if Orion had any reinforcements, aside from the fairies, who most certainly would all tag-team against him, if he attacked Orion in the middle of their Hollow. And truthfully, he had no interest in hurting Wyn, if this girl was her.

Carewyn and Orion were still both laughing as they soared up higher above the Great Tree. Orion led Carewyn down onto one of the tall branches, “escorting” her down it before she gave another large leap, and they soared around in circles through the air.

Finally the two had to catch their breath, slowing down to a more leisurely, dreamy rotation as the fairies likewise started to slow-dance.

“...Ha...ha...this is...” Carewyn giggled.

“Fun?” finished Orion.

“Yes!” Carewyn said eagerly.

Orion’s face broke out into a smile so huge, his glittery black eyes had to crinkle up to make room for them. Carewyn beamed brightly -- then, abruptly, she’d thrown her arms around Orion in a hug.

The gesture startled Orion noticeably.

“Thank you,” Carewyn said, grinning over his shoulder as she squeezed him tightly. “Thank you, for this -- it’s...it’s all so magical!”

When she pulled away, Orion looked at her with an oddly confused expression. Putting it together quickly, Carewyn immediately lost her smile and blushed a bit self-consciously.

“Oh! I’m sorry, I...just wanted to give you a hug, that’s all,” she said sheepishly. “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable...”

Orion shook his head.

“I was not uncomfortable,” he said at once, his voice almost mellowly stoic. “It’s just unfamiliar to me is all.”

Carewyn’s eyes softened. “...I thought so.”

Orion blinked.

“Well, it’s just...you said the Lost Kids were like us...that they didn’t have parents. ...That you don’t have parents.”

Carewyn looked up at Orion, her blue eyes warmer and more empathetic than Hook’s could ever be.

“So I thought...you must get pretty lonely sometimes too...even with the Lost Kids, and the mermaids, and the fairies and the centaurs keeping you company. I suppose that’s why Celestina said you’ve cried so much...”

Orion’s expression was very unreadable. Carewyn bit her lip, but she fixed him with a rather determined expression, before she threw her arms around him in another hug with such force that they floated through the crowds of dancing fairies again.

“It’s not right, that you feel lonely,” Carewyn said as she clung onto Orion. “With how many people care about you...you should never have to cry alone.”

The two drifted in several leisurely circles in mid-air. Orion’s arms lingered awkwardly in mid-air on either side of her for a good chunk of the time -- then, slowly, as Carewyn made as if to pull back at last, he rested his hands on her shoulders, tilting his head so as to look at her from below curiously.

“...It’s so interesting.”

Carewyn raised her eyebrows. “What?”

“How generous you are. You’ve given the mermaids your songs, the centaurs a blanket...the Lost Kids baubles and stories and pockets and warm milk. You’ve given me a handshake, and now not one, but two hugs.”

He smiled, his eyes crinkling up a bit more fondly.

“...You give so much, and yet hardly take.”

And this from a girl with the eyes of a pirate. How unlike a pirate Carewyn Cromwell truly was!

Carewyn shrugged off this compliment as easily as she might’ve shrugged off a cool evening breeze. “Well, you give quite a lot too, you know.”

“Do I?” asked Orion.

“Of course!” said Carewyn, as if it were obvious. “You look after everyone here in Neverland -- the Lost Kids, the centaurs, the mermaids, the fairies...you protect all of them from the pirates, and you don’t ever seem the least bit afraid.”

Orion cocked his eyebrows amusedly. “Fear is a thing that drags you down. No one could fly, locked in those chains...and I fly higher than all others.”

“Higher than my ‘standards,’ you mean?” said Carewyn with a laugh.

“Sky high and further still,” Orion said proudly.

Carewyn giggled harder. “To the stars, beyond the blue!”

As she laughed, though, something flittered to life behind her eyes.

“...Up you go with a height and ho...to the stars, beyond the blue...”

Her smile seemed to dim.

“There’s a Neverland...waiting for you...”

Orion blinked, startled, down at her hands -- he could feel some weight through them.

“Carewyn?” he said softly.

“...Where all your happy dreams...come...”

She was falling now. A flash of concern shot through Orion as he brought his hands up as if to take hold of Carewyn’s shoulders.

“Carewyn -- ”

He flinched back, however, seeing the tears that had overtaken her wide, bright blue eyes. For a second, they hovered over them like rippling diamond dew -- then they overflowed and streaked down her cheeks in multiple lines.

“I’ve...I’ve lost him,” she whispered.

Orion’s eyebrows furrowed. “Carewyn...”

“I’ve lost him,” Carewyn repeated again, her voice audibly distraught. “I’ve lost him -- his face, his name -- I’ve lost him!”

Orion’s eyes rippled with dismay as he watched Carewyn. She was crumpling in on herself as she drifted slowly back down to the ground.

“Come back -- come back, please -- ”

“Carewyn -- ”

Orion flew down after her, throwing out his arms as if to catch her. When he extended his arms, however, Carewyn clutched onto them tightly with her hands, clinging to Orion as she cried harder.

“I can’t -- ” she choked. “I can’t lose him again -- not my brother -- I can’t forget my brother -- I can’t!”

Orion didn’t know what to do, in the face of Carewyn’s tears. His arms lingered helplessly on either side of her, not knowing quite how to give her a hug the way she had moments ago.

“Carewyn...” he whispered, as Carewyn only sobbed harder. “Carewyn...it’s okay...”

“No,” Carewyn moaned. “I forgot him -- I forgot -- how could I forget him!?”

“We all forget, Carewyn,” Orion said gently.

Carewyn’s head shot up abruptly. Her tear-soaked eyes were very wide upon Orion’s face.

“That’s part of what Neverland is,” he murmured. “It wants you to forget your pain -- leave behind your greatest sorrows, from that Other World. It wants you to be happy, and at peace...be young and free, forever.”

Carewyn stared at Orion. She stared and stared, even as her tears continued to fall and her feet met the ground. Orion himself even ended back on solid ground, bending down to be more on her level, as he tried to comfort her.

“There’s nothing back there for you, Carewyn,” he said softly. “Everything you’ve ever wanted and needed is here. Adventure, excitement -- freedom -- a family of children just as lost and alone as you...every dream you’ve ever known and many you’ve yet to know...”

Carewyn turned her wide, teary eyes down to her feet, unable to look at Orion. His black eyes grew a little smaller as he took a step closer to her.

“You belong here, Carewyn. With us. The Lost Kids. We’ll protect you. We’ll take care of you, forever -- and you can take care of us.”

He hesitantly brought an arm up along her back and rested a hand in her hair, trying to give her a hug in return.

“...Forget him, and be happy,” he said very quietly.

Carewyn’s eyes flooded with fresh tears. All of a sudden, she’d pushed herself out of Orion’s arms.

“NO!”

Orion was so startled he couldn’t summon any kind of verbal defense before Carewyn ripped into him.

“I WON’T FORGET JACOB! I WON’T, I WON’T!”

Her blue eyes flared with righteous anger. It made Orion visibly falter.

“Carewyn...” he whispered.

“NO!” she screamed louder still. “YOU CANNOT MAKE ME!”

“It’s not me that’ll do it,” Orion said, and his voice in contrast became softer and softer. “Everyone forgets, Carewyn.”

“NEVER!” Carewyn shouted. “I’LL NEVER FORGET HIM! NEVER, NEVER!”

Orion was at a loss.

“Why?” he challenged her at last, in a very quiet, yet oddly hard voice. “Why won’t you? Why will you hurt yourself like this, when you’ll be happy, once you’ve forgotten? When Neverland itself wants you to forget and be content?”

“BECAUSE HE’S MY BROTHER!” Carewyn shrieked back. “Because when I was alone and friendless, he was there! Because when I was scared and lonely, he was there! Because when Mum died and we were cold and hungry, he was there, and he would smile, and I would press on, because I had to be there for HIM! I only know who I am and how much good I can do, because of him -- because of Mum -- because of them -- !”

Her tears were streaming down her face harder than ever.

“I don’t care how much it hurts -- I don’t care how much happier I’d be, if I forgot them forever and never cried again -- if I forgot Mum and Jacob, if I ever forgot them...I’d forget why I’m still here!”

Orion was lost for words. Carewyn’s tears seemed so blackened with despair now -- and yet, sparkling silver and gold, all the same...

Silver for resilience...gold for courage...

“...Carewyn...”

Orion once again tried to give her a hug, but Carewyn was just unable to accept it. The sobbing little girl pushed out of Orion’s arms and ran right into the trees, leaving him alone in the shade of the glittering Great Tree.

Ashe immediately set off after Carewyn -- Merula was about to chase after the pirate too, but the look on Orion’s face made her hesitate.

Orion stared after Carewyn for a long moment, his eyes darkening with displeasure -- almost something frustrated.

This was not supposed to happen. She hadn’t been too old to fly, she had been able to fly -- she’d been able to fly as high as he did! She’d been happy, and free, and she’d loved it -- she’d been so happy, being free and flying, without a care in the world...she’d known that joy, she’d felt it, that joy he felt every time he flew amongst the fairies...

She’d...known what he felt...she’d known it! She’d known it in a way that none of his other Lost Kids did, that no one else had!

No one else...

Shadows of faces Orion had forgotten years, perhaps decades ago, flickered over his closed eyelids. Orion firmly closed his eyes, forcing back the emotions trying to leak through.

He thought...she’d understood...she said she thought he was lonely -- he thought she’d said that because she’d known what that was --

He thought...she’d stay...

The shadows of forgotten faces came back, rippling into the darkness of Orion’s eyelids, now moist with tears. Orion fiercely wiped them off on his glove, forcing them back.

Forget. Peace. Forget.

In Orion’s abrupt movement to wipe the moisture from his eyes, the bauble that he’d tucked into his shirt the previous night came loose, rolling out through his sleeve and down onto the grass with a light flump. The contact with the group made the melancholic Tenor voice of Carewyn’s brother inside of it echo with fresh clarity --

“ -- mustn’t let them see me cry...I’m fine...I’m fine...”

Orion’s eyes shot open, flitting down to the silver-glinting bauble reflecting Jack’s pale face on the grass. Feeling a new wave of nausea and misery wash over him, Orion firmly turned his back on it and took off again, flying back toward Hangman’s Tree like some gloomy vulture.

Rather than fly after Orion, however, Merula made that aforementioned spiteful choice. She picked up the bauble and flew off with it into the trees.

Over the course of the next twenty minutes, Merula tapped the bauble several times, to make sure Jack’s voice sang the entire song multiple times. And sure enough, the song caught the ear of the still miserable and crying Carewyn -- as well as the ear of the pirate who Merula knew had been following her. And when Carewyn tried to get the bauble back from Merula, the fairy was able to lead her right into the Pirate Without Pirate Eyes’s path.

“Give that back, Merula -- give it -- !”

Carewyn froze, stock-still, at the sight of the pirate who she’d just about run into. Merula dropped the “bauble” at once right in front of Ashe, before darting off into the trees.

Ashe stared at Carewyn for little more than a few seconds. He’d long since determined who the girl was, but once he saw those eyes, he knew. They were Jack’s eyes -- Jack’s eyes, exactly.

“You -- ”

Carewyn, for her part, wasn’t going to go without a fight. She immediately opened her mouth to scream -- when Ashe grabbed her covered her mouth, she bit down hard on his hand.

“OUCH!”

Carewyn then tried to kick him as hard as she could -- although she wasn’t particularly strong, her ability to fly had given her some height, which allowed her to wriggle enough to land a blow right to Ashe’s shin. The pirate winced, struggling to hold onto the little girl as he reached into his green suede coat.

“Sit still, will you!? Ugh -- !”

Finding what he’d been looking for, he snatched out a white handkerchief, which he then used to cover Carewyn’s nose and mouth. The little ginger girl screamed and writhed, trying frantically to get loose, but her mind was slowly dying -- her vision blackening --

“Sorry, lassie,” Ashe muttered in her ear. “You’ll thank me later...”

Carewyn kept lashing out desperately, her voice coming out as nothing more than a squeak as all of her strength dissipated and all consciousness left her.