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theatreslave · 3 years

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Recovery

Chapter One

Drea Mikami silenced her cellphone for the third time in ten minutes. It was ringing incessantly, receiving calls from a number she didn’t recognize. She was supposed to be concentrating on paperwork but the sinking feeling that had started in her stomach two weeks ago when the number called her for the first time, was growing.

The phone rang again and she silenced just as her partner Michaela Stone-Landon reached her desk.

“You’re popular.” Michaela said with a raised eyebrow.

“It’s nothing just asking about my vehicle warranty or whatever. I swear those telemarketers are trying to annoy me to death,” Drea replied with her usual sass, trying not to show her nerves to her partner. Her amazing partner who was soon to be leaving her for a while. “Did you finish up everything? Are you excited?”

“Yeah I tied up loose ends and I have the rest of my paperwork done. Any open cases have been transferred to different detectives, barring the ones you wanted of course,” She said fondly. Silencing her friend’s phone for her the next time it rang. “In a couple hours I will be on a flight to my honeymoon, stress free!”

“I’m really happy for you Mick. I hate you for leaving me here by myself but how could I stop such a happy couple from enjoying their private time! Just make sure to have a few margaritas for me. Or better yet a few mai tais.” Drea laughed.

“You gonna be ok? I know Bowers assigned you to work with Jared while I’m gone.” Michaela asked, feeling a bit awkward.

Drea scoffed, “It’s just Jared. Afraid I’ll steal him away?”

“You can have him. Just don’t let him sulk too much ok. And take it easy on him. Your unending enthusiasm might actually make him smile and he might get a cramp in his face.” She joked.

“Oh trust me Mrs.Landon, I will make sure your ex-boy toy has nothing else to worry about except how to shut me up.” Drea stood up next to her partner and gave her a hug. “He’ll be ok Mic. He’s a big boy. I’m sure under all that brooding he is happy for you. Jared is just a passionate guy and you were all he was passionate about for a while.”

Drea released Mick from her hug. Mick nodded in agreement. “I know. He was all I knew for a long time too but Zeke, he’s everything and more. I can’t explain it. We are more than just soul mates. It’s deeper than that.”

“I know it is. I mean he survived against all odds because of you. So don’t worry, a dose of MIkami and me gushing over all the nauseatingly cute pictures you send me from your trip, will turn Jared off of you forever.” Drea was more than confident that she would have some fun while Mick was away. “And speak of the Devil.”

Jared Vasquez, newly appointed lieutenant, strode into the precinct confidently. He shrugged off his jacket and paused before scanning the bullpen and spotting the two women next to Mikami’s desk.

“It’s our big strong lieutenant back from a successful mission,” Drea teased. “I was just saying ‘bon voyage’ to the newly wed before she leaves tonight.”

Jared chuckled a bit then turned to Michaela, “Have a safe trip, and come back on time. Or if you’re going to disappear, take me with you this time.”

Michaela smacked the man’s arm, then gave him a hug as well. “I’ll be back, I promise. Be nice to Drea ok. I don’t wanna come back here and find out that you made her cry.”

“Like he could make me cry!”

“I’m not that mean!”

Drea’s phone rang and she absentmindedly silenced it again. Jared noticed but ignored it, figuring that she didn’t want to interrupt the conversation.

“So Vasquez, was it a successful mission?” Drea diverted.

“Yup, finally caught those Irish mobsters after, what, 6 months of tailing them. I am ready for something simple after all that.” Jared said as he loosened his tie and unbuttoned his top button.

“Congratulations! That’s great I know how that case has been bothering you. Using their prep-school sons as drug mules was a new low.” Michaela said with a sad look as she started packing up her bag at her desk just across from Drea’s.

Drea’s phone rang again and this time she flinched. Michaela reached over and silenced it again. Before Jared could ask what was up with that Michaela was ready to head off.

“I will see you guys in a month. I’ll send you guys some pictures. Call me if you need anything. But only if it’s urgent.” Michaela said with a wink and then waved as she walked out of the precinct.

“Aww they grow up so fast.” Drea said, wiping away a fake tear.

Jared stared at her for a second before rolling his eyes, “Make sure your weirdness doesn’t rub off on me.”

“I’m not weird! I’m just confident in my uniqueness.” Drea stuck her tongue out at him, “At least I know how to have fun.”

Her cellphone rang again. Jared finally lost his battle against his own curiosity and swiped Drea's phone and answered it. “Hello, you’re calling this phone an awful lot and it’s really starting to get annoying.”

Drea’s eyes were wide as saucers as she tried to take the phone from the much taller man in front of her. “Jared, what the hell! Give that back.”

“Who are you? Why are you answering this call?” A male voice answered. The tone he used alarmed Jared.

“Hey man, just stop calling this number ok. She doesn’t want to talk to you. And you’re making it so I can’t even enjoy the silence of a nearly empty precinct.” Jared scoffed.

“Are you that bitch’s new lap dog? She’ll curse you like she did to me. She’ll ruin you. Drea I know you’re there! You fucking bitch!” The man would have been foaming at the mouth if he were in front of Jared.

Drea finally pulled the phone from Jared’s grasp and disconnected the call. Jared was shocked then angry. “ Drea what the hell was that? Who was that? Are you in trouble?”

“Jared, it's nothing. I promise. Just some guy that’s mad that I didn’t go on a second date with him. Don’t worry about it. I was gonna get a new phone tomorrow anyway.” Drea just shut her phone off and tried to busy herself at her desk.

Jared took a moment to stare at her then went to his desk to grab a couple things, threw his jacket back on and then found his way back to her desk. “Grab what you need, the day is over and I am taking you to get a new phone.”

“Jared you really don’t have to do this,” Drea refused.

“I don’t but I’m not going to have a sleepless night thinking about that grim reaper calling you every ten minutes, so let’s move Mikami.” Jared said jokingly, trying to lighten the mood. At first Drea hesitated then grabbed her things and followed the Cuban man out of the precinct.

Drea sat in Jared’s passenger seat, having taken the bus that morning instead of her own car. It was silent as they made their way to the closest AT&T store. She played with her fingers feeling nervous for some reason.

“Do you need help getting a restraining order?” Jared asked, keeping his eye on the busy evening streets of New York.

Drea considered being honest but decided against it. Her and Jared weren’t very close and she didn’t need to involve him. “Yeah but it’s not like he’s stalking me. I probably should have given him a social media account instead of my actual number.”

“Don’t take any of the blame here, Drea. If this guy is really just being an asshole because he can’t take rejection. That’s all on him. You’ve blocked his number?”

“Yeah but he just calls with new ones. But it’s ok, I have my knight in shining necktie taking me to get a new phone so everything should be fine.” Drea teased, hoping the topic would be dropped.

“Brat,” Jared glanced at her, “If you ever need my help with some dude, don’t hesitate to ask. I know I may not be the best guy but I won’t stand for any of you girls getting treated like shit.”

“Thank you, Jared. Really it means a lot. But I don’t think this will be a big deal so don’t worry too much. That wrinkle between your brows will just get deeper.”

“I do not have a wrinkle!” Jared shot back as he parked the car. “Come on, let's go.”

“You’re coming with me?” Drea asked, surprised.

“And what, leave you here to take a night bus or taxi by yourself? Not a chance, especially after that phone call. We are getting you a new phone then you are buying me dinner for driving you around.” Jared said as they both exited the car and made their way across the street.

“How about I just cook you something? I was going to make some ramen when I got home anyway.” Drea said, smiling at Jared, honestly relieved to not be alone.

“That sounds like a deal. Just don’t poison me ok.” Jared joked as he pulled the store door open for her.

“You’ll see. Unlike Michaela I am an amazing cook!” Drea smacked Jared’s shoulder lightly as she walked past him.

The process of getting a new phone was a bit of a hassle as it always is. The minute Drea turned her old phone on, to transfer data, it started pinging with ‘missed call’ notifications followed by more calls from mystery numbers.

Jared looked a bit concerned but as soon as the service was cut off the phone stopped chiming. Drea opted for a Samsung, switching her allegiances, as the sales rep called it. It made transferring her phone numbers and data a little incomplete but Jared made sure to grab her phone and edit his contact information for her.

“Hey I literally just got that!” Drea said after saying ‘goodbye’ to the young man who helped her with her phone.

“I’m just making sure you have me saved properly.” Jared said with a laugh before snapping a picture of himself. “There ya go.”

Jared handed her the new phone as they both made it back to his car. Once they were both seated and Jared had her address in the GPS, Drea finally had a chance to look at his contact info. He had taken a quick selfie with a smile on his face from that dumb angle that guys always take it from. And had saved himself as Jared “Knight in Shining Necktie” Vasquez.

“You’re honestly a giant dork under all that machismo, aren’t you?” Drea smiled as she looked over at him.

“Only around my friends. So keep it a secret. Now are you really going to cook for me or am I just dropping you off? I’m starving after that kid couldn’t stop talking about Samsung being better than Apple blah blah blah. “ Jared said as he made his way down her street.

“Hey, we made a deal. Plus you were right, I definitely prefer this over taking the bus or subway. You can just have the valet take your car. Jonathan will take care of it.” Drea said as they pulled up to an upper class apartment building. Jared let out a low whistle.

“Your apartment complex has a valet? I knew you came from money Drea, but come on now.” Jared said, looking in awe as he stopped the car and spotted the valet driver.

“Jonathan, you’ll take care of Jared’s car won’t you.” Drea asked happily as she made her way into the building.

“Of course, Ms. Mikami. Will the Sir be spending the night?”

“Jonathan! You’re scandalous. Jared is just having dinner with me as a favor so don’t you go reporting to my mother about anything.” Drea teased the older gentleman.

“Of course Miss. Have a wonderful dinner.”

Jared watched the exchange and couldn’t help but chuckle at Drea’s cheerful manner. He followed Drea through the lobby to the elevators which were just as extravagant as the front of the building. “I’m guessing your mother likes to keep an eye on you.”

“She’s always been a tiger mom. She never did forgive me for going into law enforcement and now she wants me to apologize by getting married to one of her friends’ sons.” Drea scoffed. They made it to her apartment and she swiftly let them in.

Jared was pleased to see that her apartment was rather simple but lived in. She had a cat, or he figured she did from the litter box in the corner of the living room that opened up from the front door.

“You can hang your jacket up right there. And take off your shoes please!” Drea called as she rushed into what he assumed was the kitchen to work on their dinner. “Have a look around while I cook. And if you see Mimi, she’s friendly, I promise!.”

“You named your cat ‘Mimi’?” Jared asked as he made his way further into the apartment. He noticed a VR headset promptly displayed next to the TV, a bookcase filled to the brim, and that most of her furniture was a dark cherry color. The depth of which was offset by her cream colored walls and the shine of her lights off the various mirrors that helped make her apartment feel larger than it was.

“Yeah, why? You don’t like it?” Drea called back. The sounds of running water and then the telltale chop of a knife on a cutting board filled the apartment.

“Mimi Mikam? It’s cute.” Jared said with a laugh. He stood at the threshold of the kitchen.

“And she’s cute. If you haven’t seen her then she will come out when I bring her food out,” Drea said absentmindedly as she busied herself with the bowling water and what looked like noodles.

“Where’s your bathroom? I wanna wash up.” Jared asked, not wanting to try and find out himself in case he got accused of snooping. Not that he wasn’t a little interested in the inner workings of his silver spoon fed coworker.

“Just keep going down the hall past the living room. The first door on the right. The door on the left is the guest bedroom. The one at the end of the hall is my room, and across from it is a closet.” Drea answered not looking up from the meat she was slicing.

“Thanks. Not that I needed a full floor plan,” Jared replied as he turned to the hallway.

“I’m just being thorough. Like I am with this food you’re going to love by the way,” Drea shot back.

Jared just chuckled to himself as he walked down the hall, flicking a light switch as he went. The hall was longer than he expected. He found the bathroom easily and washed his hands. He pulled off his tie, finally letting himself relax after the long day. The Lieutenant looked at himself in the mirror, taking in the littering of grey hairs and the deepening crease between his brows. Jared let out a long sigh, he really wasn’t getting any younger. He shook his head and let his mind focus on the enigma that was Drea and her mystery caller. He had a feeling there was more to this than some stilted “nice guy” but he didn’t want to pry. He wasn’t as close to Drea as Michaela but hopefully a month as partners would remedy that.

Jared exited the bathroom only to hear the sound of something falling in what he now knew was Drea’s bedroom.

“Jared,” Drea called from the kitchen.

“Yeah?” Jared called back, his sense on high alert and his hand on his gun which was still at his belt.

“Can you make sure Mimi didn’t knock over the glass I keep on my bedside? She does that sometimes when she realizes I’m home,” Drea requested.

“Yea sure,” Jared let out a sigh of relief and then made his way down the hall. The door to her room was already ajar. Knowing that Drea asked him to check made it easier for him to flick the light switch and enter her bedroom. Jared chuckled to himself, “I guess this is one way to get into a woman’s bedroom.”

Drea’s bedroom was the definition of feminine sophistication. She had a four post canopy bed with light gauzy curtains that were pulled open. Her sheets were a cream color with mauve accents. The wood of her furniture matched the furniture in the rest of her apartment. Her side tables matched and had gold filigree lamps atop them. The carpets were plush and squishy under Jared’s socked feet. He noticed an empty glass laying haphazardly on the floor and moved to pick it up. The glass was placed neatly back on her bedside table.

Jared took a moment to snoop, unable to help himself. There was a small porcelain tree next to her lamp. A ring holder. He did notice she always wore a pinky ring on her left hand and a plain gold band on her right ring finger. A simple brush lay next to it along with a novel. Something horror related from the looks of the cover. Across from the foot of the bed was a dresser and next to that a vanity. In the opposite corner was a desk and a door that he assumed led to the master bathroom.

His attention turned at the soft mewl of Mimi who made herself known. She appeared and with the usual agility of a cat, hopped on to the vanity. That’s when Jared noticed that Drea’s window was open. She hadn’t been in here since they arrived and he doubted that she left it open by accident. Jared shut the window and did a quick sweep of the room. Once satisfied that no one was hiding in the room he turned back to Mimi.

“You wouldn’t be in here if there was an intruder right?” Mimi just blinked up at him. She was a short haired cat. Small and white, with striking blue eyes. She mewed at him and made a movement trying to rub up against him. Jared wasn’t a cat person but he had to admit she was cute. He stepped closer and tentatively reached out a hand. Mimi happily bumped her head against his palm asking for pets.

Jared smiled down at the cat just as Drea called, “Dinner’s ready! Quit snooping and come back out here.”

Jared slowly picked up the snow white cat and was surprised to see how easily she curled into him and purred. He held her to his chest, scratching her head as he made his way back to the kitchen where Drea had set a table for two at the small dining table. “Hey, I wasn’t snooping, I was bonding. See.”

Drea turned and smiled at the sight of the normally stoic detective holding her purring white cat while he scratched her head. “ Aww that’s so cute. Mimi likes you.”

“By the way did you leave your window open? I closed it for you. You should be more careful.” Jared said as he took a seat. Finally he relinquished his hold on Mimi who was more than happy to make her way to her food bowl which Drea had filled.

Drea hesitated then sat down as well, “Uh, yeah I must have forgotten about it when I went to work this morning. Thanks. I really should wake up earlier. Anyway, here we are, a Mikami special. Tonkatsu ramen and shredded seaweed chicken rolls with a side of rice.”

“Wow, it definitely smells better than anything Mick has ever tried to make,” Jared joked..

“Dig in. You had a long successful day and this is our first time hanging out as partners.” Drea said, “Thank you for coming with me to get a new phone too.”

“If I get fed like this every time I might have to do you more favors.” Jared happily dug in.

They chatted throughout dinner enjoying the food and eventually opening up a bottle of wine. Drea reasoned that they were both off tomorrow anyway. Jared, having loosened up, asked Drea about the VR headset he saw and she was more than happy to teach him how to use it. And that’s how they ended up in the living room, Jared exhausted after playing a shooting game and Drea exhausted from laughing so hard at his irritation.

“You know, I should get one of these. It’s like working out without a gym.” Jared said between breaths as he turned off the headset and returned it to its stand.

“I never took you for a gamer. But I must say that was definitely entertaining. You get way too competitive.” Drea said with a laugh. “You should just bunk out in my spare room. It’s late and we drank the whole bottle.”

“Are you sure? I’m not drunk or anything.” Jared realized it was nearing 2 a.m.

“You still drank. We’re cops Jared, we have to set a good example. And you won’t have to worry about me drunkenly jumping you in bed, the spare room has a lock.” Drea said cheekily as she started cleaning up the errant wine glasses and napkins.

“Let me do that then. You cooked and let me stay so I will wash the dishes. Go get ready for bed.” Jared insisted as he started picking up bowls and utensils.

“Yes dad, “ Drea joked as she let him take over, a yawn escaping her mouth.

“I prefer Daddy.” Jared quipped before he could stop himself. Drea let out a laugh and threw a pillow at him. “In your dreams Vasquez.”

He caught the pillow laughing as he cleaned up the remains of their dinner. It wasn’t until he was nearly done with the dishes that he felt the wine headache coming on. Drea met him in the hallway with some extra towels and a pair of sweats that were much too large to be her actual size.

“Here. So you can wash up and change. You’re lucky I like to wear big mens sweats when I’m home by myself. I will be off to bed now. Goodnight Jared.” Drea said nonchalantly as she handed him the pile then made her way back to her room, picking up Mimi who had been winding around her legs.

“Thanks Drea, goodnight.” Jared said. He washed up in the bathroom then went into the guest bedroom to change. It was simpler than her bedroom and slightly smaller but still had the plush carpet and elegant side tables. He took off his shirt and pants, hanging them up in the empty closet, then unfolded the sweats. They were a bit loose on him but were worn in. He could tell from the creases that Drea normally folded the legs up quite a bit. His eyes barely staying open, he hopped into the bed, thinking for a moment about how he ended up here. A ghost of a smile on his face as he drifted off to sleep.

Saying goodnight to Jared was an odd feeling but not bad. Drea definitely didn’t think her day would end with Jared Vasquez sleeping in her apartment. But as she went over the events of the day, it seemed to be an appropriate ending. Drea was about to climb into bed when she noticed something green on her vanity.

As she walked across the room and started to recognize the object, her blood ran cold. She stood less than a foot away, staring down at the handmade Valentine’s Day card wishing it would burst into flames. She looked up at the window next to the vanity, the one that had been open. For a split second panic filled her at the idea that he had made his way into her apartment. But Jared would have noticed, he wouldn’t let her get hurt. He wasn’t here but he had been.

Drea swiftly walked to the kitchen and grabbed some chopsticks and a ziplock bag, hoping her movements wouldn’t wake Jared. She was back in her room with the door shut behind her. She paused again, staring across the room at the offensive item. Until she let her anger surge up within her and drive her forward. She used the chopsticks effortlessly and put the card into the ziplock bag before shoving it in a bottom drawer of her vanity.

Breathing heavily she made her way to her bed. Hoping she would be able to get some sleep. Hoping the vents of the past two days wouldn’t send her spiraling back into her nightmares.

AND THATS IT FOR CHAPTER ONE. SOON TO BE ADDED TO AO3 and FANFIC.NET

#ellen tamaki #jr ramirez #manifest netflix #manifest nbc #manifest #jared vasquez #drea mikami #michaela stone

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mortyvongola2-0 · 4 years

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Proof of Strength

Chapter 2: Overwhelming Scent

Pairing: Alpha! Kylo Ren x Omega! Reader

Genre: multichapter, a/b/o fic, slowburn, 18+

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: sexual themes, dirty talk, grinding, strong language, a/b/o dynamics

Read it on AO3

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When he pulled away, he said nothing, didn’t even spare you a second glance, just turned toward your door and made to leave. You started to crumple to the floor, your legs shaking and weak, heart in your throat. He cleared his throat and you turned your head so quickly you might’ve given yourself whiplash. A gasp tore from your throat and you reached out. In his large hand was a vial of your suppressing steroids. It took all of your strength to stand and approach him order to take it back.

Your efforts were thwarted, hopes crushed, as you watched him close his fist around the glass vial and smash it, the suppressing liquid, no longer contained, dripped from his once more open palm and onto the floor. He dropped the bits of glass and made sure to crunch them beneath his boot as he made his way out. When the doors shut behind him you began to panic. What had he done? One of those vials cost you half a month’s worth of credits, and you always made sure to stalk pile. You ran toward your bedside drawer, where you kept your stash, and opened the cloth bag you stored them in. A sob crawled its way into your chest. He had destroyed all of your vials, every last one, and you wouldn’t be able to afford any more for another two months!

A tightness settled in your chest and you felt like hurling. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes and you stood on your wobbly legs and erratically ran toward the doors. Your hands met the cold dura-steel and you paused. What could you do? For all you knew he had crushed your last vial, right in front of you. You smacked your head against the metal. You only had about three days before you needed your next injection, and if you didn’t take it you only had three more before your heat would start up. There had to be something you could do. “Kriff,” you grumbled, the tears finally slipping down your cheeks. “Kriff, kriff, kriffffffffff!”

You kicked the door in your frustration, it didn’t budge, only made a loud clang as you fell back and gripped your foot in pain. The lights in your quarters flickered as you let out an angry shout. Your temper tantrum continued further into the night cycle, only stopping after your throat went sore with grumblings. What could you do? You would be stripped of your title, possibly tortured, more than likely killed once you were found out. Your toes ached, and you hit your head against the wall behind your bed. A thought struck you. You were on a ship full of alphas, so there had to be some suppression herbs somewhere. Someone had to have some you could borrow, or steal, and use on yourself until you could figure something else out…right?

Determined, you rolled off of your bed and headed out of your room. The hallways were mostly empty, the skeleton night crew keeping the ship running while most of everyone else slept. You walked down the hall, trying to think of some alphas you knew. There was Captain Phasma, General Hux, and the Commander, all of which were out of the question, you weren’t really friends with any alphas, having done your best to keep them from scenting you. Lee and Avery were betas, most of your subordinates were betas as well. You wanted to groan again.

“Oh,” you heard someone say and then call out your name. You looked up and saw Lee’s fling, Vanya, standing to your left. “What’re you doing up so late?”

“Couldn’t sleep,” you replied.

“Oh, I see,” she muttered. The air between the two of you was awkward, but you didn’t care. She adjusted her stance to cover her chest with her arms and cleared her throat. An odd scent hit your nose and you narrowed your eyes at her. It was a familiar scent, but you weren’t quite sure what it was. “Well, um, I’m working night shift tonight, so I better get back to it.”

“Wait,” you called, and she blinked at you. You took one more deep breath in to try and identify the smell but failed. “What perfume are you wearing?”

“Perfume?” Her head tilted to the side and you nodded. She lifted her wrist up to her nose and smelled it before she let out a soft laugh. “Oh, no, I’m not wearing a perfume. Its my herbs, silly.”

“Herbs?” You blinked at her in surprise. “You’re an alpha? I had no idea.”

“Yeah,” she brought a hand up to rub the back of her neck sheepishly. “I prefer to keep it that way. People tend to treat you differently if you have a designation like I do.” You could understand that and so you nodded to her. “I’m impressed that you could smell the herbs though, most betas don’t even notice.”

“I have a strong nose,” you muttered. “You wouldn’t happen to have any extra herbs, would you? I uh, have a new programmer who needs them, and he’s not sure where to get any and is freaking out about it.”

“Well, I don’t have anymore right now but you can always get some from medical or your commanding officer. Did they not supply you with any for your subordinates?”

“No.”

“Ah, then whoever you report to must have some. Be sure to let your cadet know, I need to get back to work.”

“Alright, thank you Vanya,” you said and gave her a tight smile, your nerves on high alert.

“No problem,” she said and waved back to you as she walked in the opposite direction.

You had two options it seemed, raid medical and steal from them, or risk your life and career stealing from your favorite ginger General, as he was your commanding officer. You brought one of your hands up and rubbed at your temples to fend off the growing headache. With either option, if you were caught, you risked demotion, but if you stole from Hux and he was in a foul mood you risked death. You felt like crying again. If only Vanya had had some extras.

The rest of the night passed slowly and the next day you went to work without any sleep and just as out of options as you had been before. You couldn’t decide what to do, and the cycles passed by without you taking any action. By the fifth day, one day before your heat could begin, you were nothing but stressed and panic. You hadn’t slept in four days, hadn’t eaten anything in three, and refused to drink anything but caff. Not only were your colleagues concerned for your health but so were your subordinates.

“Lieutenant.”

You jumped, startled out of your pacing, and faced the very man who had caused your poor state of being. “C-commander,” you stuttered, your mouth suddenly felt incredibly dry and you took a sip of your now cold mug of caff. “How can I help you sir?”

He flexed his fingers, the leather creaking with his movements. His helmeted head tilted to the right. “You look rather stressed,” he commented.

You grit your teeth. “I am currently working on a very important project.”

“I see, you must be busy,” he gave a slight nod and you narrowed your eyes. What was he up to? He reached for his belt and you flinched, thought the worst, and prepared to be sliced in half by his saber. But he hadn’t grabbed his weapon, instead he grabbed a small vial from his pouch, it was filled with a familiar milky liquid. Your lips parted and you sucked in a breath. “I’ll just have to hold onto this until you have the time for it then.”

“No!” You paused and shook your head, forcing yourself to calm down a bit. “Please, Commander I-I, that is-“ a hollowed noise escaped his vocoder and you watched his shoulders shift the slightest bit with it. He was making fun of you and your blood boiled. “Give it back,” you demanded.

“Is the little omega frustrated?”

“Wha-? Of course!”

He stared at you, or at least you thought he was, and took a few steps closer to you. Again, he caused your body to go into fight or flight. Your omega instincts said to flee but your training said to fight. The two options were swirling in your mind, fighting against one another. By the time he was close enough you could see your breath fog against his helmet, you decided to fight. You brought one of your legs up in an attempt to knock his knees out from under him, but he easily caught your leg. Kylo pulled it up against his hip and pressed himself flush against you. You almost fell backward, his added weight and only having one leg to stand on caused you to begin to lose your balance. But his other hand pressed against your back and pushed you against him in kind.

A shiver crawled down your spine. You’d never been this close to anyone before, let alone someone so powerful. His scent began to overwhelm your senses, and you almost whined. He had a strong grip on your calf and you weakly attempted to break it free. You couldn’t think, your heart was pounding in your chest from fear and excitement. He smelled of leather and spices. Ren brought the edge of your helmet down to the crook of your neck like he had days before, and again you craned your head away from him to give him better access. Being so close, when he chuckled this time, you could feel the vibrations in his chest and almost hear the voice of the man beneath the vocoder. “So pliant,” he stated in a lower tone. “It’s cute.”

Your heart hiccupped. It was almost like you were paralyzed; your body too willing to obey your mind. But did you really want to leave this embrace? He smelled so good, and your stomach was in flutters. Your toes curled and you shut your eyes as you refrained from letting out a noise. His oversized hand moved from the middle to the small of your back, and you leaned into the hold. Your brain kept screaming grab the vial and run but your body cried stay and fuck just a bit louder. “Why are you doing this,” you breathed.

“Because you’re mine,” he growled. His grip tightened on your black and on your calf, you leaned your head back and gasped as he ground his hips against yours. “If you want the vial, come and take it.”

He stepped back from you, letting go of your leg and your back, you plopped to the ground with a very gracious “oof” and stared wide eyed up at him. Your body was still going haywire and it was incredibly difficult for your brain to comprehend what he’d said. Again, he was leaving you without a glance back. Only once he’d left the room, the blast doors closed behind him, were you able to break out of your stupor. Kylo’s scent was still all over you, your clothes and hair had soaked it up like a perfume. Shakily, you used your desk to get back on your feet and rubbed at your tired eyes. “Take it? How am I supposed to do that?”

The rest of your workday continued, whether you wanted it to or not. You felt like your brain was melting and you were self-conscious about having the Commander’s scent all over you. It was obvious what people would think when they smelled it, and just the idea of having sex with Kylo Ren made you dizzy with fear and desire. You’d never even seen his real face before, so you chocked up your body’s response to your omega instincts. What else could it be? After all, you knew nothing about him, had never spoken with him before, and fear his wrath just like everyone else.

“Yoohoo, anyone in there?”

“Ah!” You jumped, adrenaline tingling through your body as you turned around to face your friend. “Avery, you almost made me drop my datapad.”

“Sorry,” she giggled as she leaned against the doorframe. “I did knock. Not my fault you’re not paying attention.”

“I suppose that’s fair,” you muttered and placed your work device back on your desk. “What is it? Is there a problem?”

“No, I just came to tell you that it’s quittin’ time.”

“Oh.”

“Everything alright? You’ve been pretty off for the past few days,” she asked, concerned. She moved further into your office and placed a hand to your forehead. “You don’t feel like you have a fever, but you look pale.”

“I’m just a bit home sick is all,” you tried and waved your hand to try to brush her off. She snorted in response to your statement.

“As if, you can’t lie to me. I know you hate that junk heap. Come on,” she pleaded. A frown marred her pretty face and you sighed, hating having to lie to her. Avery was genuinely concerned for you, and you felt guilty. “What’s going on? You know you can tell me anything.”

You bit your lip and stood from your desk. “The Commander is, well, he’s seen fit to torture me lately.”

“Really?” The taller woman placed a hand to her chin in thought. “Do you think it has anything to do with you almost running into him the other day?”

“I believe so,” you responded and walked around your desk. A sigh escaped you and you gripped the door frame to steady yourself, feeling lightheaded and tired. “Let’s drop it and go get some dinner. Today’s your favorite, right?”

“Yeah, tonight’s meal is a specialty from my home planet,” she cheered and sped her walk to catch up to you. Avery placed her arm around your shoulders and began to drag you along with her. “Lets find Lee and go!”

You smiled up at her and nodded. A feeling of dread began to spread through your chest as you thought of how little time you’d have left with your friends if you didn’t get that vial back from Kylo Ren.

#kylo ren x reader #kylo x you #kylo ren fanfiction #kylo ren #a/b/o dynamics #kylo ren fic #the peen does not get touched yet #mortyvongola2-0 fic #reader is female

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spectralscathath · 4 years

Note

OOoooozzzzpiiiiinn

Send me a character and I will tell you:

Ozpin

First impression: I thought he was a very interesting, wise, cryptic, and eccentric character. He’s also got a natural warmth and kindness to him, and a humourous whimsy. He always felt like he was hiding something, but he never felt sketchy. The more I found out about the man behind the curtain, the more I think that he’s on the whole a decent man with a good heart.

Impression now: I would like to give this man a hot chocolate, give a mug to every single Ozma reincarnation, and tell them all that not everything is their fault. They made mistakes, but they are good people, and are definitely not anywhere on the level of Salem’s evil. Continuing on from that, team rwby treated him terribly and I am not here for it. How dare they? Ozpin has been nothing but helpful, and I fully believe that there is nothing wrong in the occasional bit of secrecy, when outside circumstances and past experience proves it necessary. Team rwby are a bunch of college dropouts he barely knows, why the fuck do they think they have any right to know anything about him? And then they drag out his whole tragic backstory in full VR and surround sound and then have the audacity to be angry at him when he’s on the ground sobbing? Don’t worry, Ozpin, I know you’ve done some wrong, but you’re still a person who deserves a modicum of respect and compassion. Take the hot chocolate. Have a biscuit with it.

Favorite moment: Aside from the fact that he’s fucking excellent in rwby chibi (but who isn’t)? I love a lot of his moments but one excellent shout out to ‘You brought your army to my kingdom, James. Use it.’ What a good line. He never wanted the army there, but he’s going to cut over James’s panic and remind him of the goal they have, even if it ends up fucking them over later with the hacking. It also shows that he knows James well enough to be aware that giving him an objective gives him something to focus on and helps prevent panic.

Idea for a story: Who were you, Ozpin, before Ozma popped into your head? I’d love to do a deep dive character study on the two of them, figure out where each line is drawn and who’s who.

Unpopular opinion: Hi, so, headmaster Ozpin is a character all his own, and is separate from Ozma even though they had shared goals and beliefs, and the way that team RWBY and the fndm have completely unpersoned him is so fucked up. This man died under Beacon and no one gives two fucks. Everyone wants to say that Oscar isn’t a disposable vessel, but let’s also remember that neither is Ozpin. Also, anyone who thinks Ozpin should get back together with Salem is an abuse apologist. Ozpin and Ozma are victims, Salem is an abuser, if you disagree you are wrong. End of story, goodbye, the end.

Favorite relationship: Where are the lines between Ozpin, Oscar, and Ozma? Are there others in there? Is it an Avatar cycle thing where once Oscar gets proper practice he can talk to any of them? The bond between the Ozs is fascinating to me, and I’d love to see it explored without any of them being demonised for the crime of ‘being Ozpin’.

Favorite headcanon: He used to be a brunette. He greyed early. I just imagine a younger Ozpin with a long trailing scarf, wild brown hair, and a fey sparkle in his eyes, while he’s still learning the ropes of being Salem’s opponent in their immortal chess game. I also, in case you haven’t noticed, tend to differentiate Ozpin and Ozma a lot as separate people, so that’s sort of a headcanon as well. That they’re still separate people.

@taiyang-too-long thanks, tai!

#Ozpin #RWBY Ozpin #Rwby #ozma #Character Ask Meme #asks

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rwbyvein · 4 years

Text

Sunlit Knight: Taiyang

(third part in the Knight of Sunlight series)

Jaune, Ruby and Yang walked up to the sisters' house in Patch.

Yang: *opens the door*

Yang: DAD! WE'RE HOME!

Yang: Must be still at Signal.

Jaune: *nervous laughter*

Yang: *pulls out her scroll*

Yang (texting): Dad, we're home.

Jaune: So... just so you know... I'm REALLY nervous right now...

Ruby: It's not like dad's going to hurt you, or anything.

Yang: Well, too bad...

Jaune: *gulps*

Ruby: *wraps her arms around Jaune's left arm*

Ruby: Don't you worry. Just leave everything to us.

Yang: Dad will be putty in our hands... though he might still get a few blows in... so... don't drop your guard...

Jaune: Very... reassuring...

Yang: I thought you were willing to fight the world for us.

Jaune: Yeah, the world, not your father.

Yang: *snickers*

Ruby: I'm sure dad will be reasonable... I mean, come on, it's dad... We just need to make Jaune feel at home.

Yang: Home is where the blowjob is. Now might now might not be the best time.

Jaune: *jaw slack with shock*

Yang: Easy, Ladykiller. I know we're not there yet... truth... I'm scared of getting there too quickly...

Yang: *breathes deep*

Yang: Okay, look, this isn't home for me anymore.

Ruby: *eyes wide with shock*

Yang: My home is wherever Ladykiller is.

Ruby: That... actually... makes a lot of sense...

Jaune: When... when did that happen?

Yang: Who knows, Ladykiller, but for me, it doesn't matter.

Ruby: That is why we're here...

Yang: *points at the couch*

Yang: Take a load off.

Jaune: *slumps onto the couch*

Ruby: Can we get you anything?

Yang: *sits on the couch and locks her arms in Jaune's*

Ruby: Good point.

Ruby: *sits on the opposite side, locking her arms into Jaune's*

Jaune: *breathes deeply*

Jaune: *rests his head back*

Jaune: How I love you girls...

Yang: We know... And once we get this over with, we can...

* * *

Jaune opened his eyes, trying to focus on what was going on. There was noise in the background, and as his eyes focused he saw a person... blond hair... As he woke, he started to realize the girls were still in his arms, but by their rhythmic breathing, thought they were asleep. At this moment he was hit with a still panic. If Taiyang saw them like this...

And then he was there, staring Jaune in the eyes. The two stared at each other for half a minute before Jaune did anything in reply.

Jaune: Shh.

Taiyang: *reluctantly nods and walks into a back room*

* * *

Yang: *cute murmurs*

Yang: *stretches as much as she can without letting Jaune go*

Yang: *kisses Jaune on the cheek*

Yang: Why you so stressed, man? If I didn't know better, I'd think you weren't happy to see me.

Taiyang (from the other room): Firecracker.

Yang (under her breath): Oh, shit.

Yang: *stands up off the couch and moves into the back room*

Jaune: *listens to the emphatic voices without being able to catch what they are saying*

Jaune: I am so doomed...

Ruby: *cute murmurs*

Ruby: Nooo. You are so Yanged. Much better.

Ruby: *opens her eyes fully and looks about the room*

Ruby: Oh, no.

Jaune: So, here's what's going to happen. I'm going out on the front lawn. You're going to get your father. And then hopefully none of the furniture will be broken...

Jaune: *slinks away*

* * *

Taiyang: *walks out on the front door*

Jaune: Sir.

Taiyang: Son. Yang kind of explained what's going on here...

Jaune: Kind of?..

Taiyang: She explained that you are the first serious relationship she's ever had. It's so serious that she considers YOU to be home, and not here. But... there's also something she did not explain, and seemed to want you to be the one to do so.

Jaune: *closes his eyes and breathes deeply*

Jaune: Sir, I want to marry your daughters.

Taiyang: You want to marry Yang?

Jaune: Daughters, Sir.

Taiyang: And just what kind of idea is that?

Yang (walking out): Coming from Taiyang Xiao Long.

Taiyang: *turns to look at Yang and Ruby walking out of the house*

Taiyang: And what's that supposed to me.

Yang: *points at herself*

Yang: *points at Ruby*

Taiyang: Wait, me? That's... complicated... and you know it...

Yang: It's complicated because mom ran away. The difference is that I'm not going to.

Taiyang: *gives Yang and angry glare*

Ruby: Dad?

Taiyang: *looks at Ruby*

Ruby: We love him.

Taiyang: That doesn't mean you can all of a sudden both marry him.

Ruby: Why not?

Taiyang: I'm not the one who writes the rules.

Yang: One of us will be a mistress. So what, what matters is how HE treats us, not anyone else.

Taiyang: *alternates between glaring at Ruby and Yang*

Jaune: Sir?

Taiyang: *turns to look at Jaune*

Taiyang: And just who uses Sir nowadays?

Crow: *lands and turns into Qrow*

Qrow: I know, right.

Ruby and Yang: Uncle Qrow!

Jaune: Uh?..

Qrow: So, what exactly is going on?

Taiyang: This one man would like to marry my daughters!

Qrow: *takes a drink*

Qrow: And why in Remnant are you surprised?

Taiyang: What does that mean?

Qrow: *hrmphs*

Qrow: I'm not sure if you're are serious, because that would make it so much more hilarious.

Taiyang: Can he love both of them at the same time?

Qrow: You loved both of yours, didn't you?

Taiyang: I... mean... I can't believe you are on their side.

Qrow: I saw my nieces coming to Patch and decided to join them...

Qrow: *shrugs*

Jaune: Then why didn't you just... join us?..

Yang: That's just how Uncle Qrow works.

Ruby: He always comes in out of nowhere and saves the day in a wicked cool fashion.

Qrow: *shyly looks away*

Taiyang: *glares at Jaune*

Taiyang: Do you really think you can love both of my daughters?

Jaune: I already do.

Taiyang: *glares at Jaune*

Jaune: *nervously looks at Taiyang*

Taiyang: *looks at his daughters*

Taiyang: Really?

Yang: You are always telling me to be serious... about life... about relationships... Well, I am!

Ruby: We are!

Ruby: *emphatic nods*

Taiyang: Why the hell would you two try to copy me?..

Qrow: Easy there, Tai. Your dad language just slipped.

Taiyang: *breathes deep*

Taiyang: It's just, my relationships didn't exactly work, either... And I don't want to see my daughters do the same thing...

Yang: Like I said, the only reason it didn't work is that mom ran away. I'm not going to make that same mistake.

Taiyang: Alright, I still don't think this is a great idea... but believe you two are old enough to be making this decision on your own.

Taiyang: *turns to Jaune*

Taiyang: And don't you think for a second you can!..

Qrow: Easy, Tai.

Taiyang: And why should I take it easy?

Qrow: One, the girls are making this decision, and it doesn't seem like they are making it lightly... at least I hope they aren't... and two... I'm better at stalking humans and carry a giant scythe.

Ruby: Oh, he's just joking.

Yang: Kind of...

Jaune: *nervous laughter*

Qrow: I'm not exactly a good judge of relationships, so, you don't have anything to worry about unless you do something seriously horrifying to them. But the girls seem to like you, so, who am I to judge?

Taiyang: *sighs*

Taiyang: I'm going to go finish dinner...

#rwby #sunlit knight #jaune arc #ruby rose #yang xiao long #lancaster #dragonslayer #sunshine

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youcancallmecirce · 4 years

Text

Avatar AU, The Lost Firebender Ch. 6: Before the Ice

An interlude relating the story of Zuko's early life.

Ch 1 * Ch 2 * Ch 3 * Ch 4 * Ch 5 * Ch 6 on AO3

Zuko had never been his father’s favorite. He’d never had a chance, as that role had already been filled when Zuko was born. Azulon, first born son of Fire Lord Sozin, was a bending prodigy, a tactical genius, and a natural born leader who would do what was necessary for the good of the Fire Nation. Azulon was the perfect son-- had been the perfect son for ten years already-- and Zuko would never, ever compare.

Still, he might have at least gained acceptance had he not shown himself to be thoughtful, compassionate, and utterly unmotivated to master his bending.

Sozin believed that these behaviors were a result of the Fire Lady’s cosseting, so he heavily restricted the time that they spent together when Zuko was quite young. Instead, Sozin put Zuko in training with his brother. Teaching Zuko would be a useful experience for the future Fire Lord, and hopefully, Azulon would kindle an appropriate level of fire and ambition in Zuko.

This strategy was successful, but only to a point. Under his brother’s tutelage, Zuko quickly developed an interest in his bending. Pain was a powerful motivator, as Sozin had so often remarked, and Azulon was not reticent about employing that particular tool. Even more effective than the threat of pain was the never-kept promise of approval.

Azulon touted his own successes in the course of each lesson, and held himself up as the standard to meet. If only Zuko could perform a task as well as Azulon could, he would prove himself worthy of his family line and and finally earn his father’s approval. In this way, Azulon inspired a deep competitiveness in his younger brother, but as he had no idea how to nurture that competitive drive, Zuko was taught to believe that he was inherently inferior rather than inspired to improve.

Azulon, for his part, liked the arrangement no more than Zuko did. He chafed at the necessity of working with his ‘deficient, useless baby brother’, and felt that his time would be far better spent pursuing his own studies or commanding his own unit of Fire Nation Soldiers, or even working on the clandestine munitions program, developing and testing weapons and equipment for the rapidly growing army. He was wasted on his brother.

The situation came to a head when Zuko was 13.

His temper, which had always been short-fused, ignited at last and he attacked his brother outside the sparring ring.

Azulon, of course, was able to deflect him easily, but the damage was done. Zuko had behaved without honor and would have to face the consequences of his actions: he would have to face his brother in an Agni-Kai.

This was enough to make Zuko quake with fear. Azulon, now 23, was a Fire Master in his own right, but Zuko had grown to hate his brother and a large part of him relished the opportunity to truly fight him. He prepared for the Agni-Kai with the same determination he brought to all things, only to discover that he wouldn’t be fighting his brother after all.

His behavior had been an insult to his entire line, and he would therefore be fighting its head: Firelord Sozin himself.

Zuko begged for mercy. He did not have the hatred of his brother to insulate him from the reality of the fight, and his father frightened him infinitely more than his brother did.

“You will fight for your honor,” Sozin said, his voice cold and hard.

Zuko sank to his knees and bent his forehead to the floor. “I meant you no disrespect, Father,” Zuko cried. “I am your loyal son.”

“Rise and fight, Prince Zuko!” Sozin snapped, losing what little patience he possessed.

Zuko rose to sit back on his heels, and stared beseechingly at his father. “I won’t fight you,” he said.

“You will learn respect,” Sozin snarled, “and suffering will be your teacher!”

Roku looked away, unable to watch as the Firelord struck his son. The scent of burnt flesh filled the air only a moment after Zoku’s agonized scream.

Roku was Sozin’s senior Firesage, and as such, attended council meetings to serve as Sozin’s advisor on matters of spirituality. He had never liked Sozin, yet his position was a precarious one; he sought to temper the Firelord’s cruel reign in small ways, but was careful not to overstep himself. He certainly never revealed his personal feelings regarding the Firelord. If he wanted to maintain his role in the royal house, even his very life, he had to remain in Sozin’s good graces.

For this reason, he had always felt a kinship with the younger Prince. It pained him to see the boy suffer at the hand’s of his family but there was little he could do to prevent it. Zuko had grown into an angry, conflicted child with a burning desire to prove himself yet no hope of ever actually doing so. Each day, the shining spirit of the very small boy he had been before tarnish just a little bit more.

“Even if he’d been born first,” Sozin had said more than once in the boy’s presence, “Azulon would still be the next Firelord.”

Zuko no longer reacted visibly to that comment, offered as it always was as a statement of simple fact rather than an insult to the child, but Roku had no doubt that it cut the boy deeper each time he heard it.

And each time, Roku could sense the boy burying himself deeper within a callous shell of indifference.

Now, at last, Roku could watch no longer. He decided to attempt the one solution that actually had a chance of succeeding: he volunteered to take on the remainder of Zuko’s training, to keep him from disgracing himself and their family further, and to attempt to help the boy regain his honor.

Roku feared that he had indeed overstepped himself when he proposed this idea to the Firelord. It had taken him several minutes to respond, and during that time even the self-possessed Roku had begun to sweat. Sozin was unpredictable at best; chaotically cruel at worst.

To his relief, Sozin welcomed the suggestion. “That pup is a disgrace,” Sozin had said from behind his concealing wall of fire. “But he is still a Prince of the Fire Nation and must be treated as such. You are of sufficiently elevated status as to be an appropriate mentor for him, and I trust you as I do not trust anyone else to give him the kind of education he requires.”

Roku wasn’t sure that was actually a good thing--did the Firelord expect him to be as brutal as Azulon?--but he was pleased with the outcome of that audience, regardless.

Roku had Zuko’s things transferred to the Firesages’ wing of the palace immediately, and personally assumed the oversight of his recovery.

Zuko’s face had been badly burned; a grotesque scar was inevitable, and the healers feared that he would ultimately lose his left eye as well. Roku did everything in his power to ensure that he did not.

They kept him sedated through the worst of it, both to spare him the pain of it and to prevent him from doing more damage by accident. He set an acolyte the task of combing through the library at the temple, to glean every available scrap of information about healing, and made sure that the healers made use of the information. It was a slow process, but the boy did heal without infection, and without losing the use of his left eye.

Zuko, when he was allowed to wake and learn of his new circumstances, resisted the change. He felt that he’d received a demotion, and therefore an insult, in being given to Roku. He perceived an even greater insult when Roku informed him that his bending lessons were to be suspended indefinitely, and replaced with traditional martial arts and blade work.

Sozin and Azulon were of the same opinion, and Azulon in particular made sure that Zuko knew it. Zuko would have to earn the right to resume his firebending instruction, they said, since it had been his firebending that he’d used to attack his brother.

That was not at all Roku’s reasoning, but he let the misunderstanding stand. He wanted the Firelord to mistake his motives. It gave him more freedom to teach the boy as he saw fit.

Zuko had been all but paralyzed in his bending as a result of his brother’s cruelty and his father’s brutal attack. Roku knew that if the boy were ever to overcome that, he would first need to learn confidence in a completely different arena.

They began with tai chi to re-strengthen Zuko’s convalescent body, and to lay the groundwork for the intense discipline he would soon need.

Zuko hated it.

“This is for children, and old men,” he shouted after losing his balance yet again. “Azulon said that it’s useless to a warrior!”

“Azulon is no longer your mentor.” Roku said placidly, continuing with the exercise. “Again.”

Zuko growled in frustration, but did as he was told. Roku, he had learned, would not beat him as Azulon had done, but was inexorable in his teaching. To resist him was an exercise in maddening futility.

In time, Zuko came to enjoy the slow, intent movements of their daily tai chi exercises. He learned to control his breathing and blank his thoughts, focusing entirely on the duality of mind and body.

He didn’t truly appreciate Roku’s months of tai chi until Piandao, renowned blademaster and bladesmith both, arrived to begin his instruction on the art of the blade. He was, at last, fully recovered from his burns and back at full strength. Piandao, who was still more exacting than Roku had been, challenged the limits of that strength from day one.

Zuko took to it immediately. The sword moved as an extension of his body, and he found a freedom in its use that he had never experienced before. In a matter of weeks, Piandao suggested that he learn to work with two blades at once and Zuko liked that even better.

“It’s uncanny,” Piandao remarked one evening over a game of Pai Sho. “And yet, there is nothing supernatural about the boy’s progress. It is his discipline and his unflagging dedication which have allowed him to progress so quickly.”

Roku nodded thoughtfully, and placed his next tile on the board. “He is a remarkable young man,” he agreed. “But I am not so sure that it is his dedication alone.”

“Oh?” the bladesmith quirked a brow. “You believe there is more to it?”

“I do.” He met the other man’s gaze levelly. “I think that he is the next Avatar.”

Piando sucked in a sharp breath, knocking the board hard enough to ruin the game. “Are you certain?” he breathed.

“Not certain,” Roku answered. “Not yet.”

But he soon would be.

Piandao left at the end of Zuko’s second year as Roku’s student, and Roku resumed the Prince’s firebending instruction at last.

Zuko was no longer paralyzed in his bending; the intervening year had served its true purpose, and Roku was satisfied. After his success with Piandao, however, Zuko was incredibly frustrated to find that firebending was as difficult for him now as it had ever been before the Agni-Kai.

“Remember, Prince Zuko, that power in firebending comes from the breath, not the muscles. The breath becomes energy in the body. The energy extends past your limbs and becomes fire.” Roku sighed as Zuko went through the set once more, still making the same mistake and becoming increasingly angry with himself.

Roku shook his head. “Have you forgotten everything that you learned in the last year? Should we return to the study of tai chi, so that you can properly harness your breath?”

“No, Master Roku.” Zuko bent himself into a stiff bow, giving the appropriate response without letting go of any of his anger.

“Very well,” he said. “Again. And this time, remember your breath!”

Zuko took the time to center himself before starting the set over, and he kept it throughout the exercise. The difference in his bending was significant. The boy’s face glowed with pride when he finished, and Roku indulged himself in a rare show of approval.

Sozin, after all, must never know that Zuko had become like a son to him--or that Zuko now regarded Roku as a father. They’d never discussed it, but they hadn’t needed to. Zuko was intuitive enough to know his father’s delicate ego would not tolerate being usurped in any capacity.

The dragon arrived a week later.

The dragon’s appearance was both a boon and a bane. A boon, because Zuko found in Fang the friend that he’d never before been allowed to have. A boon, too, because it confirmed for Roku that Zuko was indeed the Avatar.

A bane, because it revealed Zuko’s true nature to Sozin as well.

The Firelord was far too astute to mistake the appearance of an animal spirit guide for anything other than what it was. Given his plans for the future, Sozin was thrilled to discover that he had the Avatar--the only one in the world who could possibly stand in his way--in his own house, and loyal to him.

No one told Zuko.

Firelord Sozin embraced his second son as he never had before, and the sudden acceptance from his true father was a heady thing, indeed. Zuko continued to work with Roku, but Sozin took a much greater interest in his son’ studies than he had before. Zuko was delighted; Roku was wary.

Roku had not abdicated his role as senior Firesage. He knew, from discussions he’d had with his leader and from the topics he’d been instructed to research, that Sozin was planning something unprecedented in their world. He knew it centered around the comet that would appear in their skies in a few short years, and the fleet of Naval ships discreetly growing on the western coast of the Fire Nation’s capitol island.

He knew it would spell disaster for the other nations, just as he knew that Zuko was the key to stopping it.

Once again, though, his hands were tied. He could not speak against the Firelord; to do so would be to end his own life. Nor could he attempt to warn the Prince. Zuko was zealous in his loyalty to his father, and would not hear a negative word spoken about him--not even if the word came from his beloved mentor. Instead, Roku did his best to guide Zuko, to nurture those inherent qualities which had so repulsed his father all those years ago without revealing their continued presence in his character.

Two more years passed in this fashion. Zuko was drawn further into his father’s sphere, and his relationship with Roku seemed to weaken apace. In the privacy of his own quarters, Roku despaired.

Zuko turned angry and conflicted once more, because he could not reconcile the vital truths he had learned from his mentor with the truths his father lived by. Roku’s influence had gone deep and he simply could not approve of his father’s cruel thirst for power no matter how loyal he was. He sought to ignore it instead.

When his father at last revealed the true depth and breadth of his plans, Zuko could ignore it no longer.

Azulon, who had been deeply jealous of the favor shown to his little brother, had cautioned against it from the moment that Zuko’s role in the world had become clear. “He is still too weak to do what must be done, Father,” he’d said, over and over. Sozin, who was not blind to Roku’s influence over his son, had agreed until now.

“We have only another year before the comet passes over us,” Sozin said firmly, addressing his private council. “It is time to bring Zuko fully into the family’s legacy, and secure his assistance in bringing it to pass.”

Azulon held his peace as a servant was sent to summon both Zuko and his mentor, knowing that to contradict his father now would be to earn disfavor for himself. He had not remained the Firelord’s favorite for so many years by being stupid. It was fortunate for him, then, that his brother had learned nothing.

Zuko entered the Firelord’s audience chamber a step behind Master Roku, as befitted their respective positions. Prince or not, Zuko was merely a student; Roku was a Master Firesage, and served as an advisor to the Firelord himself.

It wasn’t the first time that they had been summoned to participate in a council meeting, but it was the first time that they had been invited to attend Sozin’s private war council. Zuko was filled with hope and fire and the heady rush of being admitted to his father’s inner circle at last. Roku was full of dread, knowing that they had come to another pivotal moment, and that after this meeting, everything would change.

He was right.

“For hundreds of years, the Avatar has kept balance between the Water Tribes, Earth Kingdom, Fire Nation, and Air Nomads,” Sozin began when everyone had taken their seats around the long table. “As the master of all four elements, the Avatar has been the unbiased keeper of peace, and the undisputed authority on the spirit world. The Avatar cycle has ensured an unbroken line of advocates from every nation on the planet, and with the death of Avatar Kyoshi many years ago, the cycle turned back to us, the great Fire Nation.

“Yet the years passed, and no Avatar appeared among our people. No one manifested the ability to bend all four elements, and until recently we feared that the Avatar cycle had somehow been broken. Now, we not only know that an Avatar has indeed been born to the Fire Nation, but we know that the spirits chose to show their favor by giving us an Avatar out of the royal line.

The flame-shrouded figure rose from his throne, and Zuko’s wide, unblinking eyes followed the movement. “My son,” the Firelord said gravely. “Prince Zuko of the Fire Nation, it is time to embrace your destiny.” A few moments passed in utter silence, and then the Firelord went on. “You are not only a scion of our great family line. You represent the culmination of our great family, and will serve to cement our place in the world. You are the Avatar.”

Zuko stared at his father, unsure whether he’d heard the man correctly. This was not at all what he’d expected, and couldn’t possibly be true. But his father wasn’t done yet.

“Your birth into our family shows that the spirits recognize our supremacy in the world. That you were born to our family now, and coming into your power on the eve of the Great Comet, is a benediction of our rule. You see, Zuko, it is not your destiny to be a mediator between the nations, as your predecessors did. Your destiny is to unite all of the nations under a single banner: that of the Fire Nation!”

Roku felt the ice slithering through his veins as Sozin spoke, outlining his plans for the comet and his subjugation of the rest of the world. Roku had been expecting something along these lines and so was marginally prepared. He also had the benefit of decades of experience at maintaining a neutral expression, no matter what happened. It had served him well in Sozin’s court, though never before so well as it did now. He was sickened by the man’s avarice, and by the position in which he’d placed his son, but he remained as serene as he’d been while playing Pai Sho with Piandao.

Zuko, on the other hand, had not expected anything like this. He’d been completely broadsided, and had hardly any experience to draw from at all. His reactions played out across his face, broadcasting them as clearly as if he’d shouted them.

As the Firelord spoke of invading the Water Tribe on a massive scale, Zuko’s face went pale. As the Firelord spoke of the ease with which they would annihilate the peaceful Air Nomads, Zuko betrayed his revulsion with a thick swallow. And as the Firelord spoke eagerly of laying siege to Ba Sing Se, taking the Earth Kingdom stronghold no matter the cost in lives, Zuko began to shake.

Azulon, who had been stony-faced through the entire speech, now began to smile. It didn’t matter that Zuko was finally able to school his expression into passivity. It didn’t matter that he said all of the right words, at exactly the right times. The damage was done; they knew now that an Avatar Zuko would never fall in with their plans, and therefore would need to be neutralized.

His father’s full favor would return to him, where it belonged.

Roku, too, knew what Zuko had unwittingly wrought. It was a test of his will, that walk from the audience chamber to the Firesages’ wing of the palace, but he did it. To his everlasting pride, so did Zuko. They walked calmly, even slowly back to Zuko’s quarters, discussing matters of no import. As soon as they were behind closed doors, however, Zuko’s calm fell away and he looked at his mentor with wild eyes.

“I can’t do this,” he said, panic clear in his voice. “I can’t be the Avatar. There’s a mistake. There has to be. And even if I were, I can’t--I won’t--not even for him. I suspected something, Master Roku, but not this!”

“Be calm,” Roku said, placing his hands on the young man’s shoulders. “Breathe.”

“But--”

Roku shook him, surprising him into silence, and said again, “Breathe!”

Zuko obediently drew in a deep breath and sought his center. It was difficult to find but the doing of it was calming, as Roku had known it would be.

“Now you must listen, Prince Zuko.” He paused, and Zuko nodded. “You are indeed the Avatar.”

“But master--”

“You must listen!” He shook him again, this time raising his voice enough to make Zuko’s mouth drop open. Roku had never before raised his voice. “You are the Avatar,” he repeated, once more in his normal, placid tone. “ have known it since Fang came to you, and so has your father.”

Zuko’s expression creased with hurt and confusion, and Roku sighed sadly.

“I could not have told you. I have known for a long time what your father is, and to reveal your nature too soon would have been to your detriment.”

Roku paused, allowing Zuko to realize the truth of that for himself. “And now?” Zuko asked, and was proud of the calm control he’d achieved.

“Now, you must leave.”

His calm disintegrated and his eyes widened with panic once more. “Leave?”

“Your father and your brother are both too shrewd to have missed your initial reaction. Everyone in that room knew that you would never be the puppet your father wishes to make of you.”

Zuko breathed deeply, seeking that control. “He’s going to try to kill me, isn’t he?” he asked.

“No.” Roku shook his head with a sad smile. “No, he would undoubtedly go to great lengths to keep you alive.”

“Because he knows that if I die,” Zuko said slowly, “the Avatar cycle will continue and a new Avatar will be born to the Air Nomads.”

“Yes.”

“Where can we go?”

“Not we, Prince Zuko. You.”

“Master Roku, no!” Zuko shook his head vehemently. “You have to come with me. If you stay, my father will know you helped me. Your life will be forfeit.”

Roku nodded serenely, acknowledging the likelihood of that outcome. “I have known this day would come since the moment I saw the dragon.”

“But--”

“You must take Fang, and flee as fast and as far as you can.”

Zuko stared at his mentor, feeling a cold numbness steal over him. “I’m never going to see you again, am I?” he asked, as calmly as Roku.

“No,” the man confirmed. “Now go. You’ve stayed too long already; I don’t know how quickly your father will move against you, and I want you to have as much of a lead as possible.”

“My swords--”

“There’s no time, Zuko!” Roku shoved a small pouch into Zuko’s hand, then pushed him towards the door. “Just go! Find Fang, and go!”

#Avatar The Last Airbender #au #avatar!zuko #sozin #azulon #firesage ruko #back story #flashback #circe writes

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stuckinapatriarchalbullshitland · 5 years

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The Shadow’s Punishment (Sequel of The Revenge of the Shadows)*

*This story is completely my idea and it’s only fictional

Lauren Jauregui’s Apartment - Hollywood Hills - A Day after the AMA’s _____ - “We have a managers meeting in an hour. Tell your girl to prepare, the clowns are not happy and neither is Jauregui. I’ll send you the address” - B

Shit.

That was the first thing that came to my mind after reading Brenda’s message. Meeting of managers means meeting of clowns to talk about the PR circus that Camila and Shawn were giving to the general public with their summer romance. That also means that in addition to Andrew, Roger, and Brenda, would also be the managers / publicists of Taylor Swift (Tree Paine), Joe Alwyn (Aaron Brennan), Zac Stenmark (Oliver O'Ryan), Karlie Kloss and Josh Kushner (Scooter Braun), Kaylor’s number one enemy. Taylor and Karlie And that also means we were screwed. It wasn’t going to be a beautiful meeting because it had occurred to me to include Zac and Karlie in my revenge. I knew that I would have to talk to Camila about it. I also knew that my sun was going to be furious with me. At that moment I looked at the sofa I was sitting on and sighed heavily knowing that this would be my new bed from now on. Fucking motherfuckers. But I was willing to face them. To each of them and to be there for Camila because I knew how much she hated those public relations meetings. I was going to get up from the couch ready to face the wrath of my girlfriend when a new message arrived on my iPhone. This time it was Karlie. “I know about the meeting although I don’t understand why Tay and I have to go, but we’re in luck, the fantastic twins won’t be present. Josh is in New Zealand for a mob meeting and Joe is in Britain filming his movie. That’s good for us except for the number one bastard, Tay is crazy about it. You owe it to me, Jauregui”. - "More shit” - I whispered out loud to finally leave the living room and go to Camila who was taking a nap in my room. She had arrived exhausted after a long day of public relations stunt with Shawn and the poor woman was desperate for some peace and quiet. Having to wake her up to face a new crisis, broke my fucking heart, but I had to do it. My idea was to take all the consequences and free her from that conflict. Seeing her sprawled in bed on the decks, dressed in sweatpants, and a long ‘The 1975’ t-shirt from the closet was all I loved to see in the world, because she looked beautiful–but I had to wake her up. I tried to wake her up with kisses, literally. Kissing Camila Cabello was my passion and whenever I could do it I did it. I loved to kiss her and I didn’t hold back this time. I took advantage of those moments of peace and kissed her forehead, her nose, her cheeks, her neck, and avoided her lips. Those beautiful lips that were my downfall. I knew that if that delight began it would never end and we would never get to the fucking meeting so I armed myself with courage and woke her up again. - “Camz…” - I kissed her cheeks again - “Love, wake up,” I sighed. “We need to talk.” - “Nooo…”- I heard her sleepy voice complaining like a little girl and I couldn’t help smiling. I knew she would wake up like this - “Stay with me Lern,” Camila whispered. - “I wish I could love, but we can’t.” - My voice sounded serious and that caught the attention of my girl who opened an eye with curiosity. I returned a defeated look when in the same tone of voice I snapped, - “We have an urgent public relations meeting Camila.” “Brenda and Roger are waiting for us.” - “What happened Lauren?” - Camila had put aside all her sleep and got up suddenly looking at me seriously. - “I didn’t do anything for them to call us.” “Did something happen that you didn’t tell me?” Camila asks. My silence was my answer, but my sun still didn’t understand. - “Lauren?” - She now asked with a hint of fear, - “What have you done?” I shook my head and clenched my teeth not wanting to face her anger but she gave me no respite. - “Give me your phone,”- her voice rang so cold and deadly, that I could not avoid the tremor of nerves or that of my hands - “Lauren!” “Give me your fucking phone, now!” - “Forgive me… ” I whisper as I hand her the phone with trembling hands–trying to calm her growing anger - “I couldn’t help it Camila.” We couldn’t help it, and the guys agreed …“ Camila was focused on my phone watching the videos that Zac, Karlie, and I uploaded from our partners. Camila said nothing and her silence terrified me. When she returned the phone, she did it in silence and didn’t even look me in the eye. That was much worse than facing her anger, at least if she got angry she was able to deal with it but her indifference and coldness was something I could never face and was my worst torture. - "Please my love …” - I begged without being able to hold back my tears. - “Tell me something … yell at me, hit me!” “Tell me something!” Please!- - “You’ll sleep on the couch for a week,” - was all the response I received from her. She jumped from the bed directly to the bathroom and left me in pieces and crying to the seas. Camila came out of the shower and dressed very much like how I dressed. The two black tracksuit, sneakers, and matching hoodies in addition to our Ray Ban to hide our eyes swollen from crying. The makeup didn’t work. We reached the parking lot of my building in complete silence. Camila decided to occupy the back seat of the Tesla. She covered herself with the hood and spent the entire trip by car to Roger’s house in Malibu texting on her iPhone. From the frown I saw on her face through the rear-view mirror, it seemed she could be arguing with Sinu. I sighed and cursed softly my bad luck. I knew we would have problems and I would assume them but I thought naively that Camila would understand what I did it considering she did exactly the same thing last year at the AMA’s and the whole fandom found out about it. I was about to tell Camila that I would bear the guilt of my mistake but she anticipated me with something I didn’t expect. - “I know why you did it Lauren…”- her voice was hoarse and I nodded severely - “I know because I did it before and it is not the reason why you will sleep on the couch for a week, but because I learned that it would cost us and my mom has already warned me.” She say heavily, “This will cost us, Lauren. More than it cost us last year.” - “I know.” - I replied softly looking at her in the rear-view mirror. - “And I will bear all the blame. Don’t worry about that, Camz.” - “What?” - Camila looked at me surprised without understanding anything - “How will you do that?” “To what-?” - “I will not say anything else Mami” - I cut her with a shy smile that she returned to me halfway -“I know what I am doing …”

Or that was what I thought … ____

- “I think that after the show, that here Miss Jauregui has found her post on Instagram and that you have copied I am afraid that you already know that this will not stay that way, right? You will be punished. The six of you, well, actually the three of you who made the trick, except who will pay the consequences of your acts will be your partners. Especially Miss Cabello.”

Andrew had given his ultimatum. I knew we would have to pay a price for my mistake because the idiot of Shawn and Brenda’s manager warned me as soon as we got to Roger’s house, but I wasn’t willing to accept that Camila pay for an error that was entirely mine. - “It’s not fair”- I got up from the chair in the conference room that Roger had in his house and approached Andrew at the same time I looked at Brenda and Roger - Camila doesn’t have to pay for the shit that I caused Andrew and you know it. “Don’t be such a bastard!” - “Take care of your language girl, because I will not accept your bad behavior towards my person.” - The arrogant man complained about me with annoyance - “You know very well that I can do it because your girlfriend accepted the contract and signed it.” "She will have to pay for the mistake you made because I am not going to lose a single dollar that we have invested in my represented.“ Andrew looked at me with hate but I was desperate. I turned to see Camila trembling in the arms of Taylor who was present next to Karlie, in addition to Shawn and Zac, I couldn’t take it anymore. I had no plans to do what I did, but for Camila I would do that and more. - "Please, do with me what you feel like but don’t touch her … ”- I begged him to fall on his knees at his feet, humiliating myself before a man who only watched over his interests - “Camila is not to blame for anything. If you want to punish someone, punish me, but not her. Please….” I cried. The guys and Brenda shouted for me. Camila threw herself on my back, kneeling beside me, hugging me but I was still watching my enemy who just smiled. - “Lauren … my love, don’t do this.” - Camila asked me sadly kissing my temple - “Please my moon, don’t humiliate yourself like that.” “It’s not worth it.” - “This is bullshit Andrew and you know it”,- Taylor was obfuscated looking at Andrew and Tree. - “You haven’t lost anything and you can’t treat them like that, they are just girls.” - “They are just girls who know very well what they risk dear Taylor.” - Andrew looked with a frown at the blonde dressed in black, in fact we were all in black, except our representatives, Brenda wore a white dress with short sleeves and hair tied in a high ponytail. The men were dressed in neckties of different shades of gray. Tree wore a blue office-style outfit and her red hair tied in a high ponytail like Brenda, and looked at Taylor very upset. The guys and I like school students being punished in the principal’s office - “The same goes for your dear Karlie here.” - Andrew looked at Scooter Braun who represented Karlie and Josh Kushner and Joe Alwyn’s representative, Aaron Brennan - It was she who accepted Miss Jauregui’s idea and the same goes for Mr. Stenmark - this time Andrew looked at Zac’s representative Oliver O'Ryan who nodded severely looking at the Australian boy who did not take his eyes off the large oak wood table occupied with manila folders, coffees, and ashtrays. - “All of us have invested fortunes in your respective public relations contracts and we will not tolerate losing a single penny of that investment because of a mischief of a girl in love.” “To none of you!” But, since all this can be solved, we can reach an agreement. - Andrew looked at Camila and me with a raised eyebrow - “Return to your chair Miss Jauregui and Miss Cabello control your girlfriend better next time.” - “I’m sorry Andrew, I’m really sorry.” - Camila apologized to the motherfucker in a soft tone and I hated him, but I was pushed by her to stand up and I followed her with my head down knowing that I would have to face her again I will go back home. ___ The meeting ended with a small extension in the contracts of the group, one more month for Taylor and Joe, another month for Karlie and Josh, where the latter and complained very angry with Karlie saying that he would have to change his plans with Mickey * and two months for Camila and Shawn where they would have to be more active now in their respective social networks. It was that or a fine of money that neither Camila, much less I could afford, nor Zac. Karlie, Shawn and Taylor could but they accepted the punishment because it was fair to all of us. I never thought I would have their support but we had it even though Shawn and Taylor were still very upset with us. We left Malibu with a heavy heart, but aware that everything could have been much worse. Brenda told me that she would meet me during the week and she left Malibu in her car while they left Scooter Braun, who at least had no discussion with Taylor, but also set her meeting with Karlie and Josh. The same happened with Tree who also attended her meeting with Taylor. Aaron left after having a serious talk with the blonde singer and Oliver did the same after talking to the Australian model. Andrew left Roger’s house still very angry and throwing daggers at my address. I knew he wouldn’t forgive me so easily for what I had done so I expected another attack from him. Meanwhile, Roger stayed at his house, had a short talk with Camila, and we both left Malibu back to Hollywood Hills. Camila proposed to the group to hold their own meeting at home since only her parents were present and everyone accepted except for Zac, Karlie and I because we had to do our own show at home. That meant, we had to make stories to keep us in our respective places, all for the rest of our followers so we would arrive later at the meeting. I left Camila at her home and waited for Shawn and Taylor to accompany her to get back on the Tesla and go home. Before that, I saw how Taylor and Karlie said goodbye with a tender kiss and so did Shawn and Zac. Both models went in the cars of their respective partners and the three of us left Camila’s street to our own places.

Once in my apartment, I didn’t take long to make several videos that I uploaded to my Instagram announcing that I would go to a concert and in fact I took advantage of asking Brenda to send me videos of a hip-hop concert to upload them to my stories. I left the publication scheduled for the next hour. I spent another hour in my apartment before driving the Tesla back to the house of my sun, I was only one block from arriving at the house when suddenly something force me to stop abruptly and stop at the edge of a road at that hour almost desert. I didn’t even notice the black BMW of tinted windows and no visible license plate, until a knock on the window of my car made me curse out loud. It wasn’t the police but I knew who they could be. I got out of the vehicle and that was my first mistake, when I saw a man dressed in black and dark glasses grabbed my arm and hit me in the belly with the knee which caused me to lose my breath and fall to my knees. I looked up from the ground and it was my second mistake, a sharp blow to the cheek left my bloodied lip and I fell back to the ground which the man in black took the opportunity to give me two more kicks on my back and my stomach. Then he took me back to the car and threw me into the back seat where I fell half-lying and bloodied cheek staining the white upholstery. The man didn’t mention anything during the entire beating or when he arrived driving to Camila’s house, or when he dragged me out of the car until he stopped with me on my back to ring the bell. It was Alejandro who opened the door and exclaimed my name in a surprised and worried tone when he saw me. - “Lauren?” - I could feel his gaze on me while looking at my torturer - “What happened …?” - “Andrew Gertler and Silvia Rhode send their regards.” - It was all that the man in black mentioned before throwing me to the floor as if I were a sack of potatoes and left in the same BMW car that had stopped me before and was driven by a second thug dressed in black. They disappeared as fast as they had arrived. Alejandro managed to get me up and hold me but I could only think of my sun. - “Camz … I need to see …her…” I didn’t stand up much longer and passed out. The last thing I heard was Alejandro’s scream calling for Camila and then my sun that also shouted my name in despair. - “Lauren! Don’t leave me…! Please love! Wake up…!” ____

When I woke up again I was surrounded by Camila. She had her head on my thigh and I was lying in her room. My whole body ached but I didn’t feel like bothering Camila thinking she would be asleep. When I heard her call me softly I knew I was wrong. - “My love?” - She called me softly - “Are you awake?” - Yes Camz - I tried to smile at her but my lip ached and I complained loudly. When I tried to touch the wounded area. Camila took my hand and prevented it with a sad smile. My poor girl had swollen eyes for crying and I cursed my bad luck again, this time in a low voice. - “Don’t touch there my moon” - she warned me gently stroking my healthy cheek. - “My mom healed your wounds and told me that you had to keep calm.” - “Can you explain what the hell happened?” “How is it that Karlie, Zac and you have come home so injured?” - “What?” - I was so surprised by Camila’s revelation that my first impulse was to get out of bed, obviously the movement hurt my injured body, I complained again and Camila reassured me again. - “Lern, go back to bed” - she asked me again this time in a more serious tone -“ I’ll tell you everything if you promise that you will not move from here.” - “I promise you” - I nodded and tried to calm down waiting for my angel’s explanation - “What happened to them?” - “They arrived not long before you, honey” - Camila’s voice sounded very sad - Taylor and Shawn were cooking pizzas in the kitchen with my mom’s help when Karlie appeared almost in the same state as you, she was brought by a thug of Scooter and Taylor took her. “She was hit in the face and only kicked in the stomach, but Taylor almost went crazy when she saw her injured.” “My parents tried to calm her down and they succeeded, but then Shawn despaired fearing the same thing would happen to Zac …” - “And it happened?” - I asked bitterly and she nodded - “Shit ….” - Zac arrived twenty minutes after Karlie and also got hurt but in the same way as Karlie. “Just a couple of hits.” “But you my love … see how they left you …” - “I have to apologize to them, Camz …” - I wasn’t worried about me, I was worried about them. They who also paid my mistake and didn’t have to - “Where are they?” - “Down in the living room” - Camila mentioned this time with a smile - “They are not angry with you well, Shawn a little, but not to the degree of hating you.” - “I have to see them” - I asked my girl again quietly anxious to get out of bed - “I can walk, my sun. I just need some extra support. Would you do it for me?” I gave my princess my best pout and got what I wanted. I left my place in the white bed and cursed out loud because of the pain but I kept quiet when I heard Camila warn me that if she heard another complaint from me I would not leave the bed until morning. I had to put on my best face because I hated to complain so I didn’t do it anymore and I managed to get to the lounge where the rest of the guys were meeting talking and eating pizza. They didn’t even realize we had arrived because they talked loudly until I decided to stand next to Camila in front of them and call the group out loud. - “Guys?” - I watched them all with a desolate expression - “Forgive me. Please….” - “Oh my God, Lauren …” - Taylor complained loudly looking at me with surprise - “Look how you are, girl …. those bastards.” Taylor then stared at Shawn who had stopped eating his pizza and also looked at me sadly - “You know it was Andrew. Right, Shawn?” - “No … - Shawn shook his head without wanting to believe Taylor’s words - "Andrew never-” - “He’s forcing you to do a PR with me Shawn” - Camila complained while helping me settle on the couch where Karlie and Zac were rested from their own wounds. Karlie shook my hand and looked at me with a sad smile. - “I’m sorry girl ..”. - she apologized and I shrugged - “I am the one who should apologize Karlie, I convinced you both to join my revenge, it’s my fault. I’m really sorry Zac.” - “I know Laur, but it’s not your fault because Karlie and I accepted” - the Australian boy looked at the blonde and she nodded - “Don’t blame yourself for that.” - “But you are also hurt and”-

I couldn’t keep keeping my talk quietly with both models because Camila was arguing loudly with Shawn and they both seemed very upset.

- “You know that Andrew is capable of doing it Shawn” - Camila complained facing her friend - “That man is forced to stop you being what you are because it is bad for your career and your image, as they are doing with me and what they do with Tay.” “As they do with everyone.” “Why can’t you believe that he was the reason that now my Lern is hurt?” - “Because he doesn’t handle himself like that, Mila” - the Canadian boy complained again looking at my sun severely - “He’s not as evil as Scooter and other managers.” “At least not like yours that has rumors of being in trouble of sexual harassment.” - “Shawny you don’t understand anything”- Taylor suddenly sighed looking at me and nodding what I did. We both knew very well how rotten the industry was. - “All of them are evil. Everyone.” - She sighed - “You better than anyone know that the industry is surrounded by monsters. That it has an extra income of money that does not come exactly from the sale of records and that they make investments for us thanks to that money that we eventually have to give them back.” - “We are slaves” - I decided to interrupt the discussion out loud - “We are slaves of all of them Shawn and if you believe otherwise then it is because they are manipulating you.” “They only watch over the money we can give them with our music and with all the contracts with which they have tied us.” Shawn remained silent but looked at me still with a frown and I knew what was coming. - “You started it all” - he complained - “You started that fucking revenge and now my Zac is hurt. It’s your fault Lauren.” - “Leave Lauren alone!” - Camila this time exploded against her friend and I tried to comfort her by grabbing her hand before the argument went worse - “Camz! Enough baby, don’t keep up with this” - I asked in a serious tone - “You don’t have to fight because of me guys, we have to solve this shit before it keeps fucking us.” - I looked at Taylor for help - “Can you help us Taylor?” - “Yes,” - she observed Karlie who nodded with a smile - I have an idea but two conditions. Well, there really are three. - Ok, I accept - I said in a serious tone and she nodded - “What are those conditions?” - “The first condition is for everyone to calm down” - she asked - “We don’t get anything to discuss and fight each other because if we do that they win” - the blonde mentioned looking at Camz and Shawn - “Truce?: Camila looked at her friend still with a frown and I forced her to look at me. -"My sun, come on,” - I asked softly smiling and pouting - “You cannot be angry with him, he is still your friend.” My girl still didn’t take off her annoying pout so I had to take out the heavy artillery. Kisses. I took her face with my hands and filled her with kisses avoiding kissing her on the lips which made her laugh and I laughed with her. - “Okay” - Camila nodded to Taylor and looked at Shawn - “It’s a truce but don’t think I do it for me, I do it for Lauren. You and I still have a pending conversation Shawn Raul.” - “Fine Mila, thanks for your answer.” “You can fix your differences later” - Taylor praised with a lively smile and then looked at Shawn who was still as serious as my girlfriend - “Shawn?” A few seconds passed and Shawn said nothing until Zac intervened. - “If you do not respond in this second darling tonight you will sleep on the sofa” - the Australian boy looked at Shawn the same way I looked at Camila. When I got mad at her and sent her to the sofa and I had to bite my tongue to avoid laughing. The two boys were a male version of us and it was a lot of fun to watch. - “You wouldn’t dare love …” - Shawn tried to dissuade his boy but the model shook his head - “Try me …” - “Fuck.” - Shawn shook his head but nodded and looked at Camila - “I accept the truce and accept the talk” - he then looked at Taylor - “Are you happy now girl?” - "Very much, yes" - she smiled enthusiastically and looked at us again - “Well, the second condition is more serious. We have to be careful about what we say here.” - She looked around the room of white walls - “This place may be full of bugs.” - “Bugs?” - Camila suddenly jumped indignantly - “This house is cleaned every day Tay, is not dirty or has bugs.” Taylor and I laughed and soon Zac, Shawn and Karlie followed because we couldn’t help it. My Camz was unique. The laugh got worse when Camila protested the teasing as a little girl pouting. - “Dont laugh!” - She complained - “It’s not funny, I don’t know what all of you are talking about.” I was going to respond to my girl’s complaints, but since I couldn’t stop laughing, it was Karlie who intervened. - “No Mila, Tay didn’t talk about those bugs” - she was still smiling - “Bugs are called spy microphones.” “Taylor thinks your house may be punctured with microphones so we can’t talk about delicate things here.” - 'Oh shit … “- Camila jumped once more now completely paranoid - "Does that mean they have been able to listen to us as many times as you and I… Lolo …?” - “Well baby, it wouldn’t be the first time” - I answered her after stopping to laugh and I shrugged - “Remember the Takeover where DJ, Mani and Ally wanted to see Beyoncé and Ally told you to enjoy your water.” - “Fuck, I remember ”- Camila smiled and I couldn’t help stroking her cheek while she was sitting next to me - “Our fans have never forgotten that Takeover.” Camila laughed and I stole a kiss from her lips. When we took off we looked at the guys who were looking at us with funny smiles and we couldn’t help but blush at the same time. - “I’ve always said you girls look beautiful together ”- Karlie sighed delightedly and I couldn’t help remembering our biggest fan, Dinah. - “Thanks Karlie” - I replied with an embarrassed smile and she nodded looked at Taylor and also kissed her. - I could not believe that the girls were engaged and that they would get married soon, they had been much longer than Camila and I and always seemed like a beautiful couple. Both girls are very different from other blondes without brains that I have known, no doubt. - “So what do we do lovebirds?” - Shawn suddenly asked cutting our festival of kisses - “They can be listening to us right now talking about bugs right?” - “Of course they can, but they can’t tell us anything because then they would give themselves away, dear.” “And if they do, that could also lead to lawsuits for privacy breaches so no, that doesn’t suit them.” - Taylor answered simply - “It is not entirely certain that the house is punctured but prevention is better than regret.” –Taylor then looked at Camila - “I have a way to know if your house is flat, Mila, but of course, I won’t say it now. We will discuss that elsewhere. And that brings me to the third and last condition, guys.” - She looked at us all and smiled again - “Food and movies. Now.” - “I’m in!” - Camila jumped off the couch where she was with me and grabbed Shawn by the hand to take him to the kitchen. She looked happy but I knew that Camila would take the opportunity to make peace with the Canadian boy. My girl hated fighting with her friends. - “You’ve done well princess” - Karlie congratulated Taylor and kissed her and then pushed her into the kitchen with Camila and Shawn. She waited for our partners to be out of earshot and looked seriously at Zac and me. - “I know what Tay has in mind guys” - she sounded worried - “And I don’t like anything. It’s too dangerous and unfortunately we cannot speak it here.” With Zac we saw Karlie understanding and I had an idea when I saw a notebook and pencils on the coffee table in the living room. I grabbed the pencil and wrote on it and then raised it for them to read. - “Is Taylor’s house clean?” “Yes or no” Karlie nodded and I wrote again - “Is your house clean?” “Yes or no” The blonde shook her head and I sighed discouraged but wrote again: - “Can we meet at Taylor’s house?” “Yes or no” She shrugged but grabbed another paper and pencil and wrote on her own, lifted the paper just as I did. - “But I know what can help” “There is a machine that can tracks bugs and I know who can provide me with one of them” “We can do it this week and I’ll talk to Tay about it.” - Thank you - I nodded to the blonde model and she nodded back smiling - “It’s nothing Laur.” I was going to speak again but I was interrupted by the guys who returned from the kitchen with more pizzas and soft drinks and also a bottle of red wine. - “Wine is for those of us who are healthy, not for the wounded.” “Sorry children” - Taylor announced with a joking smile looking at Zac, Karlie and I that we were looking back at her pouting - “Don’t put those faces because you and especially you Jauregui, are with painkillers so there is no wine for you.” - “Camz!” - I complained to Camila and Zac did the same with Shawn. Both friends shrugged and Camila spoke. - “You heard the boss” - she smiled and looked at me tenderly - “It’s for your own sake my moon.” - “Of course Camila” - I said with a hint of annoyance but jokingly - “It’s for my good but it will be me who will have to carry your drunk ass when you pass, right?” - Well, I’m used to doing that with my princess - Karlie answered for Camila without paying attention to my complaint - She doesn’t always do it so that’s fine. Taylor hid her head in Karlie’s chest, embarrassed. - Shawn is a light weight so I’m just as used to it - Zac also responded like Karlie and kissed his boyfriend - “Besides, I love how crazy he gets when he drinks, he doesn’t always do it but it’s a lot of fun.” - “Have you seen Lern?” - Camila gave me a gentle blow in my arm jokingly - “They don’t complain Why do you?” - “It was a joke angel” - I laughed tickling her to erase her pout and I did it - “I’m also used to carrying your drunken ass as you are used to carrying mine. I really don’t know how we do it but we do it.” - “Well, if the girls have stopped talking about drunken butts, we have to decide what movie we will watch”- Taylor ended our mini-discussion smiling, knowing that on that subject another worse argument would come that Camz would lose now. - Terror It was the unanimous response that as always, Camila didn’t share. - “Ahhh!” “Why do you always choose terror?” - My sun was a baby at that time again - “You know I hate it, Lauren …!” I managed to appease my girlfriend the way she always calms down, with more kisses. And while she was still upset with our choice, the one that won was me because I could snuggle with her throughout the movie until she fell asleep in my arms. Carrying her weight made my wounds hurt a little, but that didn’t stop me from hugging her. The same happened with our friends. Shawn and Taylor had more endurance than Camila but they were more tired and they fell asleep before the Exorcist, the original version, ended. Taylor also fell asleep in Karlie’s arms and Shawn fell asleep in Zac’s arms. We decided to leave the second horror movie about poltergeists as background noise and chatted quietly. - “We won’t leave them doing it, right?” - I told both of us referring to our partners - That they risk themselves again for us. - “No, of course not”- Karlie agreed - “Not if we can help it.” - We will find the way, Laur - Zac also nodded - They will be safe. - “I know” - I nodded with a sigh kissing Camila’s hair while she slept - “We have to.”

And we would do it. For the love of them we would sacrifice everything. ______ *Mickey Hess is the actual partner of Josh K

___________

I have to start by saying that I didn’t plan to write a sequel to this story. It was a simple idea to imagine the night of the AMA’s with Lauren by uploading an image of Camila to her Instagram and then facing the consequences, and now she became Camila with Lauren, Karlie with Taylor and Shawn with Zac. Now I am planning to write the outcome of this story in a third part, soon. Thanks @blogbeautiffulthings for helping me with the English edition, you really saved my life but if you folks find mistakes, I apologize.

#camren #kaylor #the shadow's punishment #sequel #camren fanfiction #camila cabello #lauren jauregui #taylor swift #karlie kloss #zac stenmark #sm #contracts #ama's

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franeridart · 6 years

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Bakugou with that undercut is everything. I'm absolutely in love with your art!!

!!!!!!! thank you SO MUCH!!!!!!!!!!!!

Anon said:SORRY BUT…. ARE YOU GOING TO MAKE MORE OF THAT VIGILANTES AU???? THAT CLIFFHANGER

I wouldn’t really call it a cliffhanger tbh lol but yah, sure, someday, as soon as I feel like it again

Anon said:We want seme kirishima and uke bakugou

Then I’m really sorry to let you know that you’re on the wrong blog

Anon said:Do you still ship BakuKami?

Yah

Anon said:Your page is glorious, I await every update you have impatiently but it’s worth it every time. Keep up the absolutely stunning work. And would it be possible to ask for a Ferris wheel date (kiribaku), if not all is good.

Thank you so much! And I dunno, you’re asking for a pretty complex thing there (and I’m not a huge fan of ferris wheels myself so there’s that) - but, sure, if I find myself with the motivation for it why not? It’d make for something pretty scenic, if I could manage to find the strength to put in it all the effort it’d need!

Anon said:Literally I just wanna day ur probably my fav BNHA artist.,,.,, especially kiribaku.,,.. they way you draw them is so cute and wholesome ;-; thank you for my life..,..,,,

Nuh thank YOU for being so kind to me!!!!

Anon said:i miss ur bokuroo art so much. i get it u are more into bakushima and bnha now but do u think u will still draw for hq? love ur art either way

Thank you!!! And maybe? Depends a lot on inspiration, ngl

Anon said:Hey! I was wondering when are you gonna draw the kids again ? I just saw your posts about them and I love them already aha

I’m glad you like them!!! And I’ve been answering “soon” to this question for a while now but I still haven’t gotten around to it, so who knows? I’ve especially been itching to draw Baku and Tai lately ngl………..I wonder when that’ll happen

Anon said:Your art style is really amazing and I love it! Your Kiribaku content gives me life ❤️❤️❤️

Thank youuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ;O;

Anon said:Fran, I have the KiriBaku suit art as my phone wallpaper and show it off to everyone. Is so beautiful and it makes me cry whenever I see it. You’ve drawn their faces and expressions so perfectly in that that it makes my heart ache every single time I unlock my phone. I just wanted to drop by and tell you how much I love it and appreciate you for drawing for this fandom.

GODS I’m happy to hear you liked it that much!!!!!! Thank you !!!!!!!!!!!!!!! TTOTT

Anon said:Your art of todoroki is so cool! His hair looks so fluffy!

Thank you so much!!! His hair is a lot of fun to draw!!

Anon said:I Fucking LOVE your art ! Honestly, you are the person who have me get back on tumblr. Your Kiribaku gives me life ! But I am too shy to say it with my account.

HECK THANK YOU!!!!!!

Anon said:hello!! i know reposts are not allowed under any circumstances, but i was wondering if that was limited to video edits? i really love your art and was going to make an amv with it but of course since you don’t allow reposts id be best to ask before doing so

Nah videos are cool as long as you link back to every post with the pieces you used for it 👍

Anon said:Are Bakugo or Kirishima or both the jealous type?

I headcanon them both as the reasonably-jealous type, I’d say - not an unhealthy amount of it, but still jealous now and again. It’s born mostly from the fact that I hc them as not necessarily being popular to the point of having people often hit on them? The general status-quo is that the only person actively interested in Bakugou is Kirishima and the only person actively interested in Kirishima is Bakugou, so usually they’re pretty chill about jealousy and stuff because they don’t have to be jealous. It does mean that it’s all the more irking to them when someone shows interest in the other, since they’re not used to feeling “threatened” like that, but they tell each other how much they love each other often enough that they don’t really have any reason to be worried anyway.

It’s like, yeah they don’t like it when people get touchy with thir bf, but they trust each other enough to not be actually worried about it. To be honest with you aside from very specific scenarios more than jealous/possessive I prefer my krbks as the protective sort 💕

Anon said:If Kirishima and Bakugo got into a huge fight what do you think it would be about?

I don’t… actually think they would fight? For them to get in a serious fight it’d take either a serious misunderstanding of sort or a situation in which both of them are stressed for other reasons and it comes all out with them taking it out on each other. Aside from that, the most probable thing I can see them fighting over is anger fueled by worry for each other’s well being tbh - Kirishima doing something extremely risky and Bakugou turning his fear and worry into anger, and Kirishima being angry right back because they’re heroes, Bakugou can’t be angry at him for acting as an hero should, and Bakugou’s anger getting even worse because Kirishima isn’t valuing his life as much as Bakugou values it, for example. Or Kirishima being worried about Bakugou and for one reason or another pushing it too far and having Bakugou get on the defensive as he does and it all just turning into a fight of “I don’t need you treating me like I can’t take care of myself” and “why must you always be so uselessly stubborn” and so on.

But all of these wouldn’t actually be about them being angry with each other, it’s all stuff that comes from love? From them loving each other so much that their care can turn into something ugly too, that is. At least, that’s the way I see it

Anon said:After seeing the asks abt the nsfw, may I ask why? I totally understand and respect your choice, I just want to know why would you never draw it? It’d be very interesting to see!

There are actually a lot of reasons why, tbh, but the most practical and obvious one is that as things stand right now in fandoms posting nsfw content is exactly the same as lighting up a very huge arrow pointing straight at you and yelling “please be an ass to me”, and that’s absolutely not what I want my fandom experience to be like, considering I already have enough of that without adding posting nsfw to the mix

Anon said:Can I ask if you like uraraka? Mostly bc you said she was reduced to her romantic supplot, and I wanna know your opinion of her (sorry if I worded this wrong)

Hm, what a question. Overall, I’m pretty indifferent to Uraraka as a whole? I like her design and she’s fun to draw because she’s easy to draw, so that’s part of it. I’m incrdibly unhappy with how Horikoshi is writing her, because he’s given her a lot of potentially very cool traits just to make literally nothing of any of them, and that’s just disappointing. As she is in the manga right now, whether she’s there or not doesn’t change anything for me because A, she’s barely there ever anyway and B, she doesn’t really have any sort of relationship with my faves so my attention doesn’t gravitate much towards her all in all. She’s said a couple of things in the past I’m not much happy about, but I realize they were mostly things said to move along the plot so I made peace with it. I’m not much of a fan of her fanon characterization? So I generally prefer it if she isn’t part of the fancontent I cosume, but that’s on the fandom and not on Horikoshi.

All in all, lots of wasted potential, but she’s cute I guess? She hasn’t done anything worth notice since the sports fest lbr so I’m very ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ about her as a whole

Anon said:i loev your art. have a brilliant day.

Thank you!!! I hope you have a fantastic day too!!!!

#fran answers #lately i feel like there's more asks on this blog than art #ive been drawing less than usual havent i #sigh #sorry about that #also started this post thinking 'ill keep these short' and then got babbly anyway by the end of it #r i p #anonymous

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aisakalegacy · 5 years

Text

Generation 2 - Chapter 5: Back Home

When Taiga came back to Twinbrook, it was 1852. She had been gone for two years. She was glad to see her children were doing fine. Ami horses’ business was going alright - she had trained two of her five horses and these two were good racers. Steve was fifteen, he had quit school and spent all the time he was awake fishing. They had news of Adora: she was doing fine at Fort Starch, but they spent more time teaching them how to be good housewives than developing their ambitions...

“I have news too, said Taiga. I’m officially a martial arts master... And we are rich!

- What?! Steve and Ami exclaimed.

- Yes! Any new Grand Master is granted a large amount of gold by the Emperor himself. Which means that now, thanks to the Xianfeng Emperor, we are now the proud owners of 70,000§ !”

Taiga decided that with this money, they would buy a legacy house that would be a little bit more memorable than their cabin. She had it teared down, and the family had to move out while the work was done - it would take a year and half to two years. Tay Bayless happily took them under his roof. After all, his house was huge and he had no children.

The horses were doing fine. Tay lived in the chicest district of town, and they were very close to the equestrian center where Ami raced.

Ami even got involved in human activities such as chess playing. She liked being near the equestrian center, but she still missed the swamps and would often talk about them.

After a year and half, they finally inaugurated their new home! They had, by far, the nicest house of the swamps...

They had no money to finish it, so it was completely empty and the only decorated rooms were the one they lived in... They couldn’t afford new furnitures, so they just used the old ones.

It was winter already. They didn’t have a big perron anymore, so Taiga had moved her rocking her near the fireplace. Since the house was huge, it was difficult to heat up and her rocking chair was the warmest place to be in.

They had no stables anymore - the horses had never used them anyway - so the horses had to stay outside, but they used to be wild horses so they didn’t care for the cold. The house sheltered them from the wind, and they had all the hay they needed. When Ami was not looking - she was very strict with her horses’ diet, Taiga would even feed them treats, such as oignons or apples...

Christmas came very fast, and since they had this huge house, Taiga hosted the party - it was also an opportunity to show off their new home! As usual, Taiga had invited the Bayless family: Chase, who was now an old lady and had never married; Tay, and his wife Zo. Taiga had cooked a great stu with all the fishes her brother had been catching, and everyone was so hungry they couldn’t even wait for Zo, Steve and Taiga. Adora wasn’t there, she preferred to stay at school with her friends for Christmas since it was too much trouble to go all the way home only to stay a few days, and go back to Fort Starch.

After she finished eating, Taiga couldn’t help but wonder if it was her last Christmas. She was an elder already, Chase was old too, Tay and Zo will soon aged up... Maybe it was time for them to pass the torch to the next generation. She had lived a full life, and was very grateful for her family.

Chase Bayless is not on the picture because she left the table to go to the bathroom, and she couldn’t wait until Taiga was sit...

Tay spent a lot of time hanging around their house. He would come over, look after Ami’s horses, spend some times with Steve, stay for diner and fall asleep in Taiga’s rocking chair.

Harriet was his favorite.

As a teenager, Steve didn’t mind his manners...

“You know, Tay, said Taiga one evening, I really appreciate that you care so much for my family. With you around, I know that we are safe from need. But shouldn’t you spend more time home with your wife?

- Things are not going great with Zo. She’s my wife and I care for her, but we’re not really, you know... intimate.

- ... Oh. Is that why you don’t have children after all these years of marriage?

- Yes. I married her when I was a boy. I started working on Twinbrook’s Gazette when I was eighteen. Zo was the daughter of the chief editor, so I married her, and well, now I’m the chief editor. Oh, we get on alright. But that’s about it. She does her things, I do my things, and we don’t talk much.”

As she escorted him out, he grabbed her hands and pulled her close.

“What are you doing? I’m you father’s widow, we can’t do that.

- Do you want to?

- Yes.”

So he kissed her.

“What if your wife find out? Or my children? We really shouldn’t be doing this.

- We don’t share any blood. And you’re closer in age to me than you were to my father...”

Taiga had found Tay attractive for a long time, but she really didn’t think she would end up being his lover... After what happened with Skeet, she really didn’t want to go back to being the “other woman” again. She was too old for this. But still... It felt good to be in love again.

Tay would often come in the end of the afternoon, when Steve was still fishing and Ami was racing, so they had time alone. One evening, she was expecting Tay when she saw someone on the outside. She opened the door, and was surprised to see Zo - Tay’s wife! Her blood ran cold. Did she know?

“Good evening, Zo. What brings you here?”, she said, trying to look relaxed.

“Cut the crap, Taiga. I know what you and my husband had been up to. I’m not angry. I’m even surprised it didn’t happened sooner, considering all the time he spends here. We’re both reasonable women, so you will understand if I say I don’t want you to see him again. I’m glad for your little romance, I really am. But he’s been neglecting the newspaper, and if he keeps acting like a child we could lose our home. My father didn’t invest everything he had in the Gazetter - and he had almost nothing - so my stupid husband could lose it all for a crush. Do you understand what I am saying here?

- Yes. Yes, I’m so sorry.

- Good. I’m going back home now, but you should come for teatime someday.”

She turned her heels and went back where she came from. After that, Taiga decided she needed a little time away from town, so she took a trip to London with Ami, who had never left Twinbrook. She left Steve in charge of the house.

She didn’t know an unexpected guest would visit them the next day...

#Aisaka Legacy #legacy challenge #sims 3 legacy #ts3 legacy #the sims 3 legacy #the sims 3 #the sims 3 simblr #the sims 3 story #the sims 3 legacy challenge #sims 3 screenshots #ts3 #ts3 simblr #ts3 story #sims 3 story #sims 3 #simblr #Adora #1852-1854

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dietaku · 5 years

Text

Amazing Quest 1: Chapter 4

The fourth chapter. You know how it is. Thanks for reading!

Chapter 4: 2 Million Leagues Under the Sea!- We get another sepia tone flashback, this time of an only slightly-younger Hiro and Emilia. Emilia: Well… your form is good. But you swing your sword like a little girl. Hiro: I don’t like hurting people, sis. Besides, everyone knows YOU’RE the messiah the Pudding tribe has awaited! I’m only here because mom had that bottle of aged tequila lying around. Emilia: That has nothing to do with anything! You need to have more confidence! … Wait, I got just the ticket! Emilia runs behind Hiro and plays with his hair. Hiro: Um. What’re you doing? Emilia: I’m giving you a Pudding Warrior Knot in your hair. It’s an ancient custom of our tribe that when a Pudding Warrior comes of age, he gets one! Hiro: Oh. That’s pretty neat. Emilia finishes, presenting the now French braided hero, Hiro, we know now. Hiro: Somehow I feel more fabulous than before. Can’t quite place my finger on it. Emilia: It’s perfect! You’ll be beating up Dark Puddings before you know it! The scene fades, then returns, Hiro, Ozma, Kimyawa and Loyroll laid out on a beach. Hiro: Ungh. I wonder why I never dream in color. Hiro gets up and the others join him. You’ll soon discover this area is only one screen wide, so you’re left to exhaust every possibility until you investigate the water. Not just any water, though, the ONE specific square, just to the left of center. Many players wasted HOURS trying to find this event flag, and many people wrongly believed it was an anti-piracy measure. Nope. Just shoddy programming. The mermaid from before surfaces. Mermaid: So, thief, ready to pay up? Ozma: Hey! We don’t even HAVE a thief in this party! Hiro: Just a reasonable facsimile. Loyroll: You flatter me, as always. Mermaid: You yoinked the goods from that place without paying its rightful owner! Kimyawa: Isn’t that technically liberating it? Mermaid: QUIT CHANGING THE TOPIC! Kimyawa: What’s your name, Stranger-chan? Mermaid: I’m Mancala! Call me Manny and I’ll punch ya in the mug, got it?! I’m the number one marine merchant mermaid you’ll ever see in the sea! Ozma: Meh, mehmehmeh? Mancala: Ignoring that. The point is you took stolen property. So I’m gonna maroon you here until you pay up! Hiro: (Great. Now what do we do?!) You then get a prompt which can result in some different dialogue options. 1) Barter 2) Lie 3) Beg -Barter- Hiro: Okay. It was just a few things. Can’t be THAT expensive. What’s the tab? Mancala: Well… since you asked so nicely! Mancala brandishes an abacus and begins calculating. Mancala: The items total net value, plus the emotional damage to this delicate mermaid, plus interest, plus tax not withheld, plus tax withheld, social security, deducting the “asked so nicely” fee… it all tallies up to a measly 36 trillion gold! Ozma: Can I crush her head like an overripe melon? Hiro: T-trillion?! Are you MAD?! Mancala: If you’re nice, I’ll even include the “cute boy” deduction! That would knock it all the way down to 34! Loyroll: And certainly a deduction for yours truly, if I may be so bold? Mancala: I’m not into girls. … Much. Loyroll: Pardon? Hiro: There’s no way we have that much. That price is absurd. I refuse. Mancala: SAY WHAT NOW?! -Lie- Hiro: What if I told you I know of a great treasure?! It’d more than make up the difference! Mancala: Okay, I’m listening now. Kimyawa: Hiro-ni-chan! You DO?! You’ve been holding out on us?! Ozma: Hiro, how could you?! Loyroll: Most unfabulous of you, my friend. Hiro: … Mancala: … Hiro: Err. Friendship is a sacred treasure, above all material wealth in the Pudding society! Ozma: (So it was just a lie…) Mancala: *Sigh* -Beg- Hiro: Please don’t make me beg. I am not a proud man. Ozma, Kimyawa & Mancala: (This is about to get really hot…) Hiro: (Suddenly, my pride is flaring up within me and I don’t know why…) Loyroll: Well? We’re waiting. Hiro: On second thought, I think I’ll just take a moment to absorb the scenery instead. Mancala: (Darn…) Regardless of your choice, it comes back to here afterward. Mancala: This isn’t getting us anywhere! Hiro: Is there no way to come to an agreement on this? Mancala: Well… you could be my servants for a while! Y’know, help with this, that and the other for a bit and we could call it square! Hiro: I somehow get the impression you’re more ambitious than that. Mancala: Aww, you flirt~! Hiro: (Not the intended reaction. Why does it feel like my life is in danger now?) Ozma & Kimyawa: *Stare* Hiro: At any rate, we don’t have the kind of money on-hand to pay. So I guess we’ve no choice. Mancala: Well, you’re in luck! I just so happened to overhear some of the Dark Puddings talking about the Water Talisman. Hiro: You did? Where is it now?! Mancala: In the Octopus Garden. It’s some ancient ruins not far from my hometown, Mermania. Regrettably, those have been locked up tight since far back as anyone can remember. But I just so happen to know some juicy gossip that may lead us to a key. The Legendary Ice Key! Hiro: Sounds like a lead! Ozma: Or a diversion from the main plot. Poh-tay-toe, pah-tah-tow. Mancala: Either way, I need some henchmen and you need the talisman, right?! I knew it soon as I saw that birthmark! Hiro takes a moment to examine himself. Hiro: Okay, seriously, where is this birthmark you people keep going on about and why do I not see it? Mancala: But that whole “air-breather” problem… there’s only one fix for that! Hiro: Oh no, not another racket… Mancala: Calm down, calm down. It’s a Mermaid’s Kiss! Hiro: Oh. Is that some kind of stone? Or maybe a plant? Or— Mancala leaps from the water, her tail morphs into legs, allowing her to glomp Hiro. Accompanying in a loud, cartoonish “SMOOCH” sound effect, which always gets a giggle out of me. Hiro: W-whoa. That was… brusque. Ozma: *Furious* Kimyawa: *Envious* Loyroll: *Yawns* Are we ready to go now? Then we can enter the water and dive to the underwater map. Though, thanks to aquatic canyons, we can’t just go anywhere we want… yet. Our first stop is down south a ways at Mermania, a recurring city throughout the franchise. There, we can get the “Bikni” armors for our female party members, which give a serviceable boost in defense to each. Hiro and Loyroll can get the “Trnks” which are a step up, but not as huge of one. How does an armor that covers less protect more? It is one of the long, lost legendary mysteries of JRPGs. Anyways, if we talk around at the merchant’s guild here, we’ll learn that Mancala has lost her trader’s license 17 different times due to “questionable practices”. The others roll their eyes when they learn this news but refrain from commenting. After talking to enough merfolk, Mancala fans out from the party. Mancala: Okay! We got everything we need? The legendary ice key is held in the underwater volcano! Hiro: I’d question the physical possibilities but somehow I feel like I’d just be encouraging you at this point. Mancala: Oh, don’t be so glum, chum! It’s pretty much a straight line there! … With a few curves and bumps. And a giant, angry dragon at the bottom. Hiro: Ah. There’s the hitch. I was waiting for that. Loyroll: Slaying a dragon? It’s a tad cliché but I think we can handle that! Mancala: Then what’re we waiting for?! Let’s do it! Ozma: What? You mean stroll up to the dragon and punch it in the face? Mancala: … Yes? Ozma: Metal. Kimyawa: Sugoi, Ozma-chan! At this point we can move back to the ocean floor and the cave in the top-right area is open now. Had we gone he previously, Hiro would’ve met the Giant Sentient Block, a really existential gag that plagues AQ players for years to come. In fact, in the early-internet era, whether this pseudo-character even existed was up for debate, as most of his appearances in this game are very easily missed. The cave itself is pretty straight-forward, except about midway, where the current puzzles spell out great confusion for those who tried to brute force the puzzles, which would flush them down a comically oversized pit where you’d battle the Toilet Snake monster, which is obsessed with poison attacks. Otherwise, the local monsters like the Munchkinfish, Seaweeder, and Poof Fish are actually quite weak compared to other monsters around this level. Here you can find a Coral Abacus for Mancala, replacing the nonsense “TmSn” Abacus she comes with normally (the Japanese name is “Termite Snack” and I guess they were okay with letting everyone assume it meant “Thompson” or something!). Afterward, you just press on down the stairs… up until you enter the gameshow chamber. Yeah, that’s not a joke. The party fans out and stands behind a podium as a huge, anime octopus-man plops down in a suit and tie. Octopus: Welcome, ladies and gentlefish to Amazing Quest: The Game Show: The Video Game: Home Edition v. 1992! I’m your host, Otto! And you lucky heroes are in for a treat today! You get to try my quiz game challenge! Win and you’ll receive fabulous prizes! Fail and you get… well, nothing! Are we ready to play?! We then get a prompt of “Squid yeah!” or “Fin no!”, but obviously the game won’t let you progress until you at least TRY, so, yeah… Otto: Question 1 will be an easy one to get your feet wet! What tribe is Hiro from? We get a prompt between “Pudding”, “Protagonist” and “Team Laser Explosion”. The answer is quite obvious. Otto: Correct! Question 2: What is Ozma’s family name? This one is a little trickier, being given the possible answers “Trouble”, “Tohrubble” and “Toruble”. Just be aware of what her name REALLY is, and you’ll be fine. Otto: Great job! Really kraken ‘em up! Question 3: What mystical artifacts, when united, unleash a great and terrible power? The answers this time are: “The DisKord Stones”, “Hell’s Bells”, and “The Talismans”. Interestingly enough, the other options are shout-outs to DOS-era adventure titles, which AQ4 later also shouts out to. Otto: Whooo! Now we’re gilly getting into it! Question 4: What elemental affinity is the first boss of this game? The prompt is just Fire, Water and Pie, so the answer is obviously water as it was the monster in Fog Tower. If you say Pie, Otto’s arms drop to his sides, as he turns to face the player directly and will stare at you for 10 tedious, unnerving seconds before prompting you to try again. Otto: ALRIGHT! Last one and this one separates the squids from the suckers! Question 5: Which of these is NOT an element of magic?! The answer prompt this time is four options wide, including: “Music”, “Emotion”, “Boobs” and “Food”. You’d only know the answer to this if you read the instruction booklet – which specifically references the elements of magic in the AQ universe. This is kind of a jerk move by the game devs, as losing the manual in the early SNES era was a foregone conclusion by all but the most dedicated collectors. The answer is technically food, but the AQ manga series actually contradicts this during the “Great Pudding Cook-Off” arc. Otto: N-no way! What an amazing contestant we had on the show! Everyone, put your fins together for our new winners! A bunch of fish suddenly leap-on screen and shake about excitedly as the SNES strains to emulate the sound of uproaring applause. Then they retreat to whence they came. Otto: How do you feel? Hiro: A little drunk? Otto: YOU HEARD IT HERE, FOLKS! Now, enjoy your fabulous prizes! For answering all five correct, we get 3 “Fishy Hats” which are helmet upgrades that anyone in the party can put on. We’re then booted from the quiz room and resume our trek through for a few more rooms up until we reach the boss chamber. There, there’s a huge hole in the center of the room, glowing red. Hiro: I have to assume this is where the dragon awaits us. Mancala: Better go up and check just to be sure, Hiro! We’ll wait back here, where it’s safe! Hiro: *Sigh* Very well. One moment. Hiro walks to the lip and looks down. Hiro: Deep. But I don’t see anything. Hiro kicks a small stone from the lip down below, then puts a hand to his ear to listen for it. Hiro: … Deep. Very deep. But I still don’t— The screen begins violently shaking. Hiro: Well, I’ve been wrong before. -Boss Fight!- Trench Serpent LP: 7500 MP: 1000 This gigantic beast is a real threat at last! I hope you took the time to level up on your way here! Your best bet is use Kimyawa’s Fox Flip, if you’re leveled high enough to have it by now, which can briefly confuse the monster to some considerable effect. However, it mandates being quite a bit over-leveled to use here, so she may be money ahead to spam the Mirror of Kii. The serpent’s most dangerous move is “COWABUNGA!” which sends a killer tidal wave over the party – never mind that we’re already underwater during this fight. Your Pudding Swirls should be sufficient, provided you’re not careless. If you monitor your HP burn, you should come out on top. -Boss Fight!- Hiro: Whew… that was surprising. Mancala: Look! The Ice Key! A banana in a block of ice floats down to Hiro’s hands. Hiro: I lack the words. As usual. Mancala: We have it! Now we can go to the Octopus’ Garden! Hiro: Tell me it’s not a quiz game. Mancala: Probably not! Loyroll: Life is far more fun when you never know what comes next, right? Hiro: I guess so. At this point we –can- go on to the next area, if we wanted to. However, a hilarious and easily-missed Easter egg awaits those who return back to Zaius and Heston. The people gather at a neutral ground once you walk into one of the cities. Hiro: Okay. Everyone. Watch very carefully. I’m gonna bring peaceful resolution to this once and for all. Hiro brandishes his sword, then cuts the Ice Key clean in half. Mancala: HIRO! WHAT THE HELL?! Hiro: Just watch. This is going some place. Hiro takes the banana free of the ice, then peels it from center-out on both ends. Crowd: WHAT?! N-no way! No one has ever… how did he DO THAT?! Hiro: See? Now you understand: there’s more than just two ways to do something! And each is equally valid. And now we all learned an important lesson, right? Crowd: HE HAS ANGERED THE VOLCANO GODS! Hiro: Beg pardon? The camera pans out as a nearby mountain erupts into a volcano, the magma pours out and wipes out both villages in a flash. It then cuts back to the party. Mancala: Oh. Right. This place is ruled by the twin brother gods of volcanoes: Rilk and Klir. They also had very particular food habits. And banana peeling was one of their sacred doctrines. Hiro: … How was I supposed to know that? So with two more destroyed cities under our belts, we find the Melted Blade, a new sword for Hiro as we return to the sea for the Octopus Garden. The garden is a 3D maze, using a really curious fixed-perspective isometric view and water spouts that move Hiro up and down as you run through. People have wasted HOURS of their lives here due to the numerous deadends and confusing layout. This is also only the first screen. The second area has moving platforms which Hiro must traverse in order to cross a river. For some reason, this ordeal seems quite nostalgic, doesn’t it? The third area introduces the garden’s true gimmick – the octopus jars and the red and blue octopi. When you get here, the party fans out. Mancala: Ah. I’ve heard of this room. We have to approach it from a certain angle! Hiro: I don’t suppose you know what it is? Mancala: Grandma said this: red octopi are friendly and will pull you near them for a closer look! Blue octopi are shy and if approached, will politely move you away from their homes! But don’t fear – neither will harm you! Hiro: What on Earth does THAT mean?! Mancala: I dunno. Why? Hiro: … Kimyawa: Nii-chan, I think I understand! The octopi-tachi are different colors here. Red will pull us near from far away and blue will push us from near to far. And the room is full of holes in the floor. So, to progress, we need octopi-tachi to move us from one spot to another. Hiro: So the riddle lies in the color and the distance. I see. This is the most head-scratching moments in the game, not due to the base mechanics, but to how fiendishly clever the rooms that lie ahead really are. As explained, red octopi reach out three or four spaces ahead to grab us, but will ignore us if we’re one or two spaces out from them, and blue octopi ignore us at distances of three or greater, and will move us away from them three to four spaces if we approach. Using this knowledge we must move about the map step by step to progress. The first room is very simple and just a test of how each works. The second room adds more walls and holes in the floor to test your critical thinking. The third room adds floors that collapse once stepped on (which reset if you leave and come back) and the final room adds conveyer belts for a touch of twitch-reflex testing! Even with random encounters turned off for these moments, this still routinely gets ranked in the top 5 most hair-pullingly frustrating dungeons in the series. Once you get to the end, we see another pit not unlike the underwater volcano end area. Mancala: Oh? Is this the center area of the Octopus Garden? Ozma: Ugh. Not a recolor boss fight. How uncreative can you get? The area rumbles as a large, purple Trench Serpent rises from below. Kimyawa: Ozma-chan, Snake-san didn’t like that comment. Hiro: Get ready, everyone! Before the battle can begin, something flashes across the screen, and the serpent roars, sinking back into the abyss. Hiro: Wait, what? Who was that?! ?: Light Puddings! Prepare yourselves! Ozma: Uh. Strictly speaking only one among us is a Pudding! A tall, slender man with an oversized tower shield on each arm stands before the party. Man: I am Praetorian Mih! Hiro: Of course you are. Loyroll: I understand your frustration, my friend, but you must admit, he’s got style! Mih: You’ve done enough damage, Light Pudding! It’s time your little escapade— Hiro: Excuse me. Mih: What? Hiro: How are you breathing right now? Did you kiss a mermaid too? Mih: Huh? Hiro: We’re underwater, so I just wanted to know if we did the same thing is all or if there was a better way. Mih: Kiss a mermaid? What are you on about? Everyone knows mermaids aren’t real. Mancala: *Ahem* Mih: Bah! I tire of this. Enough banter! Have at you! -Boss Battle!- Praetorian Mih LP: 8800 MP: 750 Praetorian Mih is every bit the human wall his massive design and dual-wielding shields might indicate, coupled with by far the most LP of anything we’ve yet encountered. The best thing to do is to use Ozma’s Table Flip in hopes it reduces this giant’s defenses and use Pudding Swirl with Hiro and Kimyawa in order to give him the offensive edge needed to compete. Loyroll should use the Mirror of Kii, exploiting Mih’s middling magic defenses. Mih’s most annoying ability will be “Safe & Sound”, a special technique accompanied by an unusually cool trumpet solo which will render him virtually invincible for two rounds before he opens up with a party-wide physical blow. However, if you can weather this, he has a 3 turn cooldown on the ability, so he cannot spam it. You’ll have to play the endurance game just as much as he does, but if you keep it up, you’ll send him packing. -Boss Battle!- Mih: Hahaha! Not bad. Not bad at all. But it will take way more than that to defeat the Human Wall, Praetorian Mih! Hiro: How many more times are you going to introduce yourself?! Loyroll: It seems our unstoppable tempo has met with an unmoving mountain! Kimyawa: Nii-chan, I think you’re mixing your metaphors. Ozma: Don’t give up. I have an idea! But I’ll need your help, Mancala! Mancala: Huh? Uh. Okay! Lay it on me! What’s the plan?! Ozma palms Mancala’s head in her hand. Mancala: Eh? Wait, what— Ozma then hurls Mancala head-first into Mih, who slides back as she impacts, coming to the rim of the pit behind him. Mancala falls flat, stars circling her head. Mancala: BARF! Mih: Hahahaa! You must be truly desperate to resort to such flailing, desperate measures! Ozma: Oh, am I? Mih: Huh? What did you…? Oh no! Mih panics, desperately attempting to run as the cliff below him gives out and he plummets into the pit below. After a few seconds of a whistling, falling sound, we hear a violent crash below. Kimyawa: Yatta! Hiro: That was, uh, a creative way of dealing with that. Ozma: I’m pretty pleased with myself. Mancala: My poor head… I’m gonna feel that for weeks! Ozma: Oh, walk it off. Mancala: How do you walk off a headache?! Hiro: C’mon, guys. The water talisman must be… huh? Do you guys hear something? The area rumbles distantly. Suddenly, an explosion rockets up from the pit, sending the party skyward. Hiro: He exploded?! Loyroll: Not just him! The serpent too! Hiro: BECAUSE THAT MAKES SO MUCH SENSE, RIGHT?! Something shiny flies among the party. Kimyawa: Sugoi! The water talisman! Guy-nii-chan! Ozma: I got it! Ozma grabs Mancala’s tail and swings her around, causing Mancala to grab it. Mancala: STOP THAT, YOU CRAZY BITCH! Ozma: But it just feels SO RIGHT! How can it be wrong?! Ozma learns the Dual Tech – Fish Slap! She’ll grab Mancala’s tail and swing her about like a flail, dealing great damage to a single target. This move deals water-type damage. And we get the Water Talisman! Ozma: The important thing is that we got the Water Talisman now, right? Hiro: No! The important thing is that we’re ABOUT TO FALL AND DIE!!! Ozma: Such a gloomy gus… The party is then viewed falling, crash-landing in a seaside village on the opposite side of one of the underwater canyons that previously prevented our passage from Mermania. They pick themselves up and survey the town. Mancala: Oh! I know where this is! This is Trackland, the town known for its enormous race track and horrible, crippling gambling debt! Hiro: That seems… informative. Never heard of a place that bagged on their own town when they were naming it. Ozma: Might as well have a look around. I don’t see anything else we can do for now. Here we can buy some upgrades, like Kimyawa’s CatCap helmet, Ozma’s Blaz Knuckles and Hiro’s Shing Sword, provided you didn’t find the Melted Blade earlier. By talking to the locals, we learn the Dark Puddings have already ransacked their town, and now their sole joy remains in the race track – famous for being so long it’s also the main highway to the next town! We then go to talk to the operations manager to find a means down said road. Hiro: Hello. We were wondering if it would be alright to head down the race track to the next town. Ops Guy: No, no, no. You don’t “head down” the race track. You RACE down it! That’s why they call it a RACE track! Mancala: Yeah? Then why do they call something you drive on a parkway and something you park on a driveway?! Ops Guy: Look, I don’t make the rules – I just enforce them. If you try any funny business, I’ll run your butts down and drag you back here for the biggest lecture of your lives! So race properly or don’t race at all! The party leaves the room, then spreads out again. Hiro: Well, so much for the direct route. Ozma: Anyone have any ideas? Loyroll: Why not do what he said? After all, a race sounds like fun! No one can keep up with our tempo! Mancala: We can’t just run the track. We’d pass out from exhaustion before we hit the midway. We need something we can ride. We need a pack mule! Hiro: A town renowned for its race track? Well, there has to be a ranch nearby with animals for such an occasion. Let’s ask around. Heading over to the ranch on the east side of town we can talk to the rancher – a strangely feminine man in a long, white trench coat. Hiro: We need— Rancher: A monster for the race, right? Hiro: Wow, you’re— Rancher: I am pretty awesome. Moreover, you’re wasting your time. The Dark Puddings raided my ranch last month and I’m still putting the pieces back together. Hiro: Isn’t there anything— Rancher: Yeah, if you get a few million going spare, I could lend you one of my thoroughbreds I’ve been raising. Hiro: We don’t have— Rancher: Neither does anyone else, bro. If you want the bargain bin, you’re in luck. This way. Hiro: Are you going to let me— Rancher: No. The rancher leads us over to one particular pen where a sad, squat lizard-like creature with a camel’s hump, two wings and two tails, weighed down by mace-like appendages crawls out. It coughs out dust on Hiro’s boots. Hiro: Is it dying? Rancher: I can only hope. This here is the bottom of the bottom of the barrel. This is the last of the Griffohumps. Hiro: Okay, you’re gonna need to explain that one to me. Rancher: It’s half griffon, half camel-dog. Its eyes also don’t align properly and it’s wantonly flatulent. I’ll let you take it for 100 gold. Take it or leave it. Hiro: Well, that’s a very reasonable price. For an unreasonable animal. I was thinking more of something like a horse… Rancher: Then you’re out of luck, chum. What little I have left other than this guy is for rebuilding and repopulating my ranch. Hiro: Looks like I don’t have much of a choice. We then get a Yes/No prompt, which is entirely pointless as saying no means we just walk around town until we go back and say Yes. In the GBA remake, however, if Kimyawa is level 37 (really, only a few levels higher than the average for this segment) and knows her Fox Inferno technique, this entire segment takes on an entirely DIFFERENT connotation as Kimyawa can replace the Griffohump as our pet in this minigame. But that’s creepy. So I’ll stick with the SNES version, thank you very much. The Griffohump is then dropped into a special Virtual Pet-style menu, which we can access whenever we want by speaking with the rancher. We’re then prompted to name the little guy – his default name is “Stinky”. We can feed it either mundane items, or special items the rancher will offer to sell us, which influence its stats. We can train it in minigames, or by fighting it like it was a monster encounter – which is the most effective means to raise it. Unequip the party and let it beat on the party and its stats will skyrocket, especially if it KOs the party. We can also have Hiro pet it and talk to it, which makes Hiro spout off nonsense jokes that were poorly translated from their original Japanese counterparts. You may persist in doing this as long as you’d like or until you hit the ludicrous 999 stat caps. Really, if you get it to around 150 in everything, Energy, Speed, Acceleration and Defense, you don’t need anything more than that. Return to the ops guy. Ops Guy: You again?! Didn’t you hear me?! Hiro: We’d like to enter the race properly now! Ops Guy: Really now? Well, that’s an entirely different story. Ready to begin? We then get a Yes/No prompt. Select Yes to continue. Ops Guy: Alright! To the starting line! This cues up the race minigame, with Hiro sitting astride the Griffohump, who is barely larger than his owner. The race itself involves running to the right-hand side of the screen as other racers try to jump on/over us. We’re ranked as we go and we must be in one of the top three places in order to win the minigame. Failure to do so drops us off where we started the race and Hiro mumbling something about “Not being on his A-Game today”. Clearing in higher ranks nets us better money and item rewards, but nothing worth freaking out over just yet – but they do get better as the plot progresses. But if we manage to win in 1st, 2nd or 3rd, we reach the chapter’s end! Narrator: And thus, Hiro and his party, riding gallantly atop Stinky, gracefully coast across the valley. What awaits them ahead? Only time will tell… We then get the Griffohump Feather, a key item we can use to access the virtual pet minigame from anywhere, anytime! Don’t forget to feed him from time to time!

#Adventure #fantasy #fiction #science fantasy #writing #infrequently asked questions #Amazing Quest

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eerythingisshaka · 6 years

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Kings’ Trip (4)

T’Challa, M’Baku, Redeemed! Erik

Warnings: Cussin’, Family rivalries, slight, light peppering of implied smut, not even alladat. You’ll see.

Word Count: 2.8K (it’s a miracle I stayed within rule max)

A/N: This is part of a The Black Panther fandom collab created by @royallyprincesslilly. I really enjoyed doing this chapter, way more fun than I could’ve ever expected. Honored to have taken part, this community it so blessed. @katasstrophey, SHE READY!

Chapters: Kings’ Trip (1) By: @sisterwifeudaku, Kings’ Trip (2) By: @blackandfair (3) By: @royallyprincesslilly

The trip was proving to be a lot more than T’Challa signed up for. It was something when Erik’s reckless, loudmouth self and M’Baku’s narcissistic, disrespectful attitude were the most mild people he would have to deal with. The stress sat heavily on them into the next day. At least, on everyone but Erik.

“Aight niggas, we headed to the beach. Sun’s out, guns out.” Erik clad in his swim trunks, towel around his neck, and stunna shades on.

M’Baku was on the TV trying to figure out a video game Erik beat him on. “I’m not a very summer sun kind of individual, eh? I’ll just stay back. AGH!” He yells as he loses the level again against the CPU.

Erik snatches the controller from M’Baku. “Listen, you not gonna get any better at this today, trust me. If my trash ass beat you on Rainbow Road, you just not cut out for the Kart.”

M’Baku crosses his arms in a huff. Erik looks over to T’Challa who is stewing over a cup of coffee. “Now what the hell is your problem?”

T’Challa shakes his head, “Have you been here for the past couple days? I have a half-brother I never knew existed, you remember that?”

Erik sucks his teeth. “Don’t be actin like you never been through this before, dawg. You got a new cousin outta some Maury type shit, and we good!”

T’Challa looks over at Erik sullenly, “Our scenario is exactly what I am afraid of.”

Erik claps T’Challa on the back, “Don’t take it so hard, T. That’s why we need to get you out the house. This is still our kingcation, remember?! Let’s get out there, check out the waves, the honeys, and get it poppin!”

Nakia comes in the living room from the back, “You guys are going out?”

Erik looks sideways at T’Challa, “No wonder you all blue and shit. You know we can’t have no real fun unless your girl ghosts, right?”

Nakia glares at Erik, “Please, I couldn’t careless. But the way you all are treating Adrian, I think it is only right you think of him before going out.” She looks at T’Challa for confirmation, who turns his face scratching his scalp.

M’Baku steps over to them. “For the record, I have no ill feelings towards the little guy. But I wonder the significance of him being brought to our attention now?”

Nakia answers, “This is a sensitive predicament to break down to the tribal leaders. We don’t want to expose him to too much of what is expected from his existence. There are two groups of people that could be affected by this; we cannot risk an uproar like LAST time.” Nakia works her neck in Erik’s direction.

“Aye, it worked itself out in the end right? Chiiiill. So what y’all gon do, cuz I’m headed for some mai tai’s and gettin a good spot on the beach real quick.”

Nakia shrugs, “That’s fine. I’ll call Adrian to join you all.”

T’Challa perks up at this, “Eh? Why do you keep pushing this boy off on us? He is a grown man, he can make his way on his own. Why are you acting like his mother?”

Nakia steps right under T’Challa’s nose. “He is still young and impressionable though. You spent all of your life thinking your father was the greatest man, without flaws. As you have become grown, you see it is the opposite and it just keeps getting deeper! How DARE you blame him for his situation. You need to soften your heart and welcome him as your blood. Stop thinking about the throne and your status and take in your family!”

M’Baku plants his hands on both their shoulders, “Ok, let us calm this lover’s quarrel. Nakia, go ahead and call him.”

T’Challa knocks M’Baku’s hand off him, “What gives you any right to-”

“That is MY cousin, T’Challa. I have EVERY right to see him while we are here. Watch your tongue when speaking of a Jabari.” M’Baku says pointing a finger in T’Challa’s face.

Erik claps his hands, “Aight! I fucking love Black ass family reunions. Leggo!”

The crew make their way to the beach and it’s packed with folks. Erik and M’Baku race to get to some chairs that were unoccupied to claim. M’Baku stretches out, yawning, “Ahh, the sun is so draining….”

Erik taps his chest, “Uh uh, Baku, getcha ass on up. We goin to get some liq up in our sys.”

M’Baku sits up confused, “Why do you always speak like a broken radio? I can only understand every other word with you.” He gets up to walk off with Erik.

“T’Challa, you coming through?” Erik asks.

T’Challa is laying back in a chair, towel covering his face as he waves them away without a word. While they were gone, T’Challa contemplated the complexities of his family tree. He prayed that his father didn’t have some kind of Zeus complex, making children wherever he laid his head.

Soon as T’Challa started to drift off, an annoying yet familiar voice came to him.

“Aye! The seagulls will make a meal out of you if you don’t stop laying out here roasting like this.”

Moving the towel, T’Challa sees his sister Shuri. She had her braids half up and half down, with a cute patterned bikini on with a skirt coverup.

T’Challa sits up mortified, “Eh, you walk out of the house looking like this?!”

Shuri puts a hand on her hip, “I do and I have already. No angry mobs have rushed me in horror brother, so thanks.”

T’Challa tosses his shirt at her, “Put this on. You are too young to be wearing that.”

Shuri looks at him sideways, throwing the shirt back. “You do realize toddlers where things very similar to this as well, yeah? Calm your blood pressure, umkhulu.”

Erik and M’Baku are laughing and chatting coming back to the chairs. “Aye look who found us, y’all!” Erik had Adrian in a headlock.

T’Challa’s heart rate began to speed up, he did not want Shuri to know about their new found brother yet. “Good, you all made it! Shuri is here, but she was just about to leave to meet with Nakia, right?” T’Challa makes a face for her to scram.

Shuri waves him off, “Pssh, I have no obligations at the moment. Let me hang out with my cousin and Baku! Who is this guy, Erik?”

Erik’s face lights up as he starts but T’Challa cuts him off, “ERIK!! Let’s take Adrian for a drink, eh? We need to catch up! M’Baku, keep Shuri company, please.” T’Challa spins Erik around who still has Adrian locked up.

Erik looks at T’Challa confused, “Why ain’t you lettin’ the little nigga see his sister, man?”

“That was my sister?? Oh man, I always wanted a sister!” Adrian says under Erik’s pit.

“We need to talk about that, I don’t want to upset her with something like this. Who knows what she will do.”

They sit under a tiki bar and order some strong cocktails and a round or beers.

“Yeah, get me three beers, yo. They for me.” Erik looks over at Adrian winking. T’Challa smack his arm, “He can’t drink, what are you doing?”

Erik looks at T’Challa, heavy lidded from his alcohol consumption so far. “Chiiiill, he grown enough. He already had a beer anyway and he handled that. I promised him one more, then he cut off, right cuz?” The shake hands in a cool way that makes T’Challa feel a jolt of envy.

“So Adrian, what have you been up to lately?” T’Challa asks.

Adrian sips his beer burping, “Ahh, just helping with the community center mostly. I’m taking courses at a nearby community college as well.”

T’Challa furrows his brow, “Community college? Why aren’t you at a university? You have to apply yourself to the best institutions to get the best-”

“Aight, are we gonna be talking about careers and futures with the kid right now, for real? T’Challa that’s like the number one thing you should NOT asks a student about: what the fuck they doin in school.”

“Thanks, cuz. But T’Challa, I’m only going since it is the best thing for me to do, financially. I get my prerequisites covered by going to community college first. And I’m passing with flying colors, so it’s all good.”

T’Challa nods, blankly drinking his cocktail. He forgot about how America’s schools were not as accessible as Wakanda’s. He cursed himself for assuming Adrian was a slacker.

The bartender lines up some shots in front of them, filling them.

“We did not order these.” T’Challa speaks up.

The bartender smiles jerking his head in to the right of them, “They’re covered.”

Two melanated baddies wave sipping and giggling at them.

“Well shit, that’s my day made, right there.” Erik says as he downs all three of the shots. “Y’all conversate and shit while I go and knock down some walls.”

Adrian asks, “You mean break the ice?”

Erik turns rubbing his hands together Birdman style, “Nah, cuz. Knock. Down. Some walls.” Erik turns with a flourish. “Ayyye, y’all wanna feel my scars? They soft as fuck...”

T’Challa shakes his head scoffing to himself. “Now he is the crazy one. Try not to let him influence-” T’Challa looks over but Adrian is gone from his seat. T’Challa sees him attempting to hula hoop with Shuri and M’Baku. M’Baku is somehow impressively good at it despite his ox-like body.

T’Challa goes back to his original chair to keep tabs on how the conversations were going between Shuri and Adrian. He still wanted to keep control on letting that information out. Erik strolls over with the two baddies on either arm.

“And Veronica, this is M’Baku, my man! I know you like em thicc, he do too, baby.”

M’Baku drops his hula hoop puffing his chest out as he makes his way to Veronica. “Pleased to meet you...Veronica.” M’Baku dips his voice an octave, and Veronica notices with pleasure.

“Mmmm, nice to meet you! You work that hula hoop pretty good...your hip movements are pretty on point.” Veronica coos as she holds onto M’Baku close.

M’Baku chuckles, “My dear, I can move anyway you need me too. That is, if you can keep up?”

Night starts to fall on the beach as Erik has his portable speaker blasting some trap jams, his lady grinds on his lap inconspicuously as they are completely inebriated and feeling each other. M’Baku is into a beach game with Veronica, Shuri and Adrian. Adrian has Shuri on his shoulders, Veronica is on M’Baku’s as the girls attempt to push one another over into the water. Their laughs echo across the beach as T’Challa looks at them and how happy they are. Adrian definitely acts more like Shuri than him, if he had to admit anything about their relation.

He watches as M’Baku topples over with Veronica. Shuri flexes and growls imitating a Jabari chant in victory. Once M’Baku gets back up he tackles Adrian sending, Shuri and them into the water. Shuri comes up, disgruntled as she yells at M’Baku for his antics. Adrian and M’Baku wrestle in the water until M’Baku drags Adrian to the shore, putting him in a sleeper choke hold.

T’Challa thinks it’s getting a little too rough, so he gets up running over to them, “All right, that is enough!”

M’Baku laughs, “It is over when he taps out. Show me what you’ve got, little one!”

Adrian squeaks, “I know you are getting tired; water sports are easier on the joints for the elderly!”

M’Baku lets out a hearty laugh, “Oh, how rich! He has the Udaku mouth, that is for sure. Jabari act more than speak!”

T’Challa puts M’Baku in a hold that shakes him up. M’Baku lets Adrian go, rolling his body forward to whip T’Challa off of his back.

“The hell is wrong with you T’Challa? Did you think I was going to kill him?” M’Baku asks. Shuri watches from a distance.

T’Challa gets up, wiping sand off of him. “You know better than to hurt someone of royal blood.”

M’Baku guffaws, “Oh we acknowledge him now, do we? The lost brother is now welcome! Bring your fattest pig, finest clothes, rings for every finger! Oh PLEASE!” M’Baku’s nostrils flare, eyes bucking. Veronica holds his arm to anchor him.

T’Challa points to him warning, “M’Baku, you treat my brother with resp-”

“HE IS A JABARI! My cousin!” He says, beating his chest with each syllable. “You have a problem with how I engage with my cousin, I’ll take it into consideration when you treat him like your brother!”

“T’Challa…” Shuri looks at him confused.

“Shuri, it’s not-”

“I have been playing this whole time with my own brother, and you knew?? When were you going to tell me?”

“It’s not that simpl-”

“Save it, brother. I’m calling Nakia to take me to my loft.” Shuri walks away.

M’Baku asks T’Challa, “The child gets her own loft?”

“I run all the vibranium in Wakanda, what do you think?!” Shuri calls behind her.

M’Baku raises his eyebrows, “With ears like a rabbit, it seems.”

T’Challa collects his things, “It’s about time we call it a night. Adrian you can come with me. Where did Erik go?” He and M’Baku look around but see him nowhere.

“Do you wanna call it a night, M’Baku?” Veronica asks, eyes fluttering.

M’Baku takes her hand, kissing it. “I must admit that our festivities have drained my energy considerably.”

Veronica frowns, “Well I’m right across the street if you could...walk me home?”

T’Challa starts to head for the penthouse with Adrian , “I will see you later M’Baku. I’m heading back.”

Once he makes it back to the penthouse, T’Challa crashes on the couch, sighing deeply. His phone dings with a message from Nakia saying she dropped off Shuri and is coming to get Adrian.

Adrian turns on the TV. “So Shuri seems nice.”

T’Challa grips the bridge of his nose, “That will change.”

Adrian gets up to go to the fridge, grabbing a water. “Well maybe she just likes me more than you, who knows.”

T’Challa looks back at him like he is crazy. “You know her for all of five minutes, and you think she would pick you as a favorite brother?”

Adrian takes a sip, “I’m just saying, we are close in age, and when we were having fun, she was mad at you and storming off so, boom!”

T’Challa shakes his head, “I don’t argue with children.”

Adrian walks slowly to the couch, looking confused, turning down the TV slightly. “T’Challa...I think Erik is here.”

“Yeah I saw shoes and shirt by the door when we walked in. No home training.”

M’Baku walks in, “How are we doing, gentlemen?” He is beaming from ear to ear.

“I take it you and Veronica had a nice goodbye.” Adrian says.

M’Baku plops on the couch, causing Adrian to hop from his weight. “I do not kiss and tell…”

“Fuck! Oh!” a woman’s voice says

Everyone freezes at the distant exclamation.

“What was….” T’Challa starts.

“What’s my name, Princess? Lemme fuckin hear it!” Erik growls.

“Daddy! Oh, gimme that daddy dick!”

Adrian covers his giggles, “Remember I told you Erik was here? It sounded straight up like LL Cool J’s song ‘Doin It’ back there.”

M’Baku gets up striding out to the balcony, “I should’ve just stayed the night with Veronica. Now I have to hear this.” He closes the glass behind him.

Nakia walks into the penthouse, “Hey, guys. Did things go well?”

“Oh! Oh! Oh!” the woman sounds operatic as she ought to be climaxing with all the noise.

“That’s it, nut on this dick-”

“ERIK!! Keep it down! Adrian, come on, get out!” He pulls Adrian to the door to rush him and Nakia out.

Adrian walks down the stairs as Nakia turns to T’Challa. “I didn’t think of you as someone to half-ass things, T’Challa…”

“I was protecting her-”

Like your father was protecting you! What does keeping the truth from people do T’Challa, huh? Has it done you any good? Erik?” Nakia storms off. T’Challa leans against the wall outside the penthouse. He is not used to being the bad guy, but his father left a trash legacy that he must try and turn into a treasure. Heavy is the head of the privileged. As T’Challa goes to open the door to return inside, it opens by itself. Erik’s date walks out, hair a mess, and all around disheveled.

“Aight Leslie, you be careful walking down those steps. Your hips oughta feel better by Thursday.” She smiled goofily waving goodbye as Erik leaned against the doorframe watching her go.

“Phew! Well, what’d I miss?”

@blublubleu @mbakusthrone @dramaqueenamby @muse-of-mbaku @kumkaniudaku @imagine-mbaku @airis-paris14 @katasstrophey @thewriterinflannel @blackandfair @sisterwifeudaku

#black panther fanfic #black panther au #black panther fanfic challenge #black panther fanfic collab #m'baku #t'challa #redeemed!erik #fanfic #shakafic #kings trip

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suggestionsofthecaribbean · 5 years

Text

H34v3nlie Måll: James & Elizabeth

After Elizabeth is forced to break up a fight between him and Will Turner, her relationship with James is tested. The matter of punishment comes under scrutiny, as well as the success of their relationship. More ominously, the atmosphere of the mall itself seems to be getting to them as they contemplate past regrets and speculate on the hope they have for their future.

CW: Long post with mild arguing, hairbrushing and reminiscing, but it’s safe to read. Loss of a tooth comes up, as do needles (in the context of tattooing) for the squeamish, and a personally humiliating suggestion for punishment is brainstormed but soon dismissed.

The way to Macy's was far more full of onlookers than James had either expected or desired. The teens from the Pearl mostly guiltily avoided looking at him, but the non-Chinese enlistees to the Empress and even some of the Gloriana’s crew hooted and shouted vulgar suggestions of how a good dog could earn his mistress’s forgiveness, made fists and jerked their hips forward in rhythm. A few of the Chinese sailors, who had only been informed by Tai Huang that both James and Turner were up a creek with the King, but hadn't learned the details yet due to both the language barrier and Tai Huang’s disinterest in discussing the King’s love life (or even thinking about it if he could avoid it), caught the meaning of the gesture and laughed as well. One man caught his eye and howled like a dog, with a strangely languid jerk of his shaven head and his hand trailing back from brow to ear that James belatedly realized was a mockery of his own attempts to keep his hair out of his eyes while Elizabeth raked them over the coals.

Turner had to have been talking to these people. Turner would have been seen as the ideal person with whom to share every mocking thought the crews had had about a man they saw as their King's frivolous, rum-sodden, good-looking but utterly brainless professional failure of a kept man. Turner, he knew, probably took this in in silence, with the occasional pained grin of validated dislike, but it was as though James’s rival had granted the power to read minds and suddenly made it impossible to ignore a single demeaning thought that ever made itself visible crossing their faces.

He had stopped in front of them without realizing it, and quickly looked away as he hurried along.

Macy's itself was blessedly empty- Elizabeth had probably ordered everyone else to keep out. Their bed in Macy’s, on the other hand, being empty, was more of a curse or an ill omen. He stood there a moment, wondering helplessly if she had changed her mind, when he heard her clearing her throat behind him and turned.

Elizabeth had taken to wearing the garb of a honeymoon for him, on the nights she wore anything at all, but at the moment she was still nearly entirely dressed - she wore slippers and the first layer of her clothing, but it was not an inviting outfit.

It also did much to suggest she had not had a very excellent evening. It was late now, and she had visibly not approached the matter of sleeping. She stood and watched him warily with shadows under her eyes, hands on her hips confrontationally.

“Captain,” she intoned.

“Elizabeth,” he said, in such a low voice it came out breathy.

“Run the gauntlet, I expect,” she said, gruff but charitable.

“I’ve run a gauntlet before,” he said. “This was more like being tarred and feathered.”

“You see how this poses me a problem,” she said, approaching the bed, but giving him a wide berth as she did.

“If you need to punish me before them, do it,” he said. “Trust me, they won’t assume I enjoy it when they’re actually looking at it.”

It was the wrong thing to say.

“Oh, I see. Flog you for your benefit, so they will stop telling stories of how the King’s dog likes it rough-”

“I didn’t mean flogging alone. I could make a list of naval punishments, though I don’t relish the thought.”

“If it had been any other two men in a fight over some valuable, that caused mild property damage and involved toy weapons,” said Elizabeth in growing agitation, “it would be nothing and require no punishment - nothing but stern words and the mockery of the crew! But it was you. It was you and Will. The only men on this expedition who can compromise my reputation, both of you were involved, and contextually it looks like you were fighting over me.”

And she spoke over any interruption about the heart of Davy Jones with a fierce, “And now if I do nothing, it looks like I want to encourage it!”

“You did strike me,” James said stiffly. “That could be turned into a warning.”

“I have been trying to think of a way to spin this so that nothing further must be done,” said Elizabeth, holding onto a bed post and leaning against the footboard to look at him. “I have considered things.”

“...and?” James asked uneasily.

“I will have the two of you working together as we head out,” she said, tossing her hair and holding herself steady as possible, though she looked as brittle as she felt. “Not in positions of command. I expect you both feel as stupid as you should feel about what you’ve done and will manage without another squabble breaking out, and in the meantime everyone else can - and likely will - remind you of how well you’re regarded at the moment, without my having to do the reminding.”

“How do we know he's going to stay with us? He’s not particularly nautically inclined-”

“I’m aware,” she said shortly. “He’s here for now, and will be treated like the rest of you.”

“No passengers. I see.”

James swallowed and nodded.

“Thank you, then.”

“I’m not done.”

“Ah,” said James.

“I think some reference to our bedroom is in order.”

He frowned. “I don't follow.”

“I mean I think I have to let on that I fuck you.”

“As though they didn't figure that out before we did-”

“We haven’t exactly encouraged the rumor,” she pressed on in irritation, crossing her arms.

“I already know how they think of me.”

“If I want this to continue I have to establish that it does not unman me to do so,” she insisted. “Do you understand what I am telling you at all?”

“I know exactly what you're saying,” James sighed. “Fine. It's only making the truth explicit anyway.”

“I would like your permission to do so!”

“Then you may have it. You didn't force me to ask for your cock as a Christmas gift-”

“I know I didn’t,” she replied indignantly, eyes stinging.

“Tell them whatever you need to, then,” James muttered. “You have my permission. I’m glad, at least, to not find myself banished from your bed altogether.”

“Oh, indeed, you seem very pleased to be here-” said Elizabeth, turning around and walking away from the bed display entirely.

“I didn’t want to try my luck,” James protested. “I had already managed things badly enough today that I didn’t think it wise to come at you melting in relief and taking you into my arms-“

She stomped back again.

“Well? Are you glad or aren’t you?” she demanded.

“I’m ecstatic,” he said, his voice fervent yet his face motionless.

Elizabeth blinked back angry tears and kissed him. James’s shoulders released with relief as he kissed her back, pulling her into his arms. Elizabeth continued to kiss him as though her guiding passion at the moment were rage, but she clung to him like she thought he would let her go.

“I thought I had lost you,” he whispered.

“It would serve you - right, God damn you-”

“I know. I know, love-”

Elizabeth pulled him back to the bed with her, needing to feel him, to be held. Every time the stress of this became too much she wanted him to hold her, and when he was the cause of that stress, she was too angry and lonely to think.

“Wait- I brought you something,” said James. “Fortunately, it survived the fountain, and dried just as well. It's far overdue.”

He reached into his pocket and pulled out something thin and dark and bound at one end. He pressed it into her palm and curled her fingers over it.

Elizabeth looked down at it in surprise, then let out a miserable noise and buried her face against his chest. After a moment, she lifted her hand and kissed the lock of his hair in her palm.

James kissed her forehead.

“When we're back,” he murmured, “I want to have yours sewn into my coat, over my heart.”

“Do you now,” she sighed, shutting her eyes. It seemed to be in exhaustion, hardly pleasure.

“I hope to never be so apart from you to need the reminder, but yes. I do.”

“Rather silly, don’t you think? It’s just hair. It’ll be all split ends-”

“I don’t mind it,” he laughed. “You wear it well. You’ve seen what becomes of mine when left it its devices.”

“Oh, please, regale me with another complaint about your hair,” said Elizabeth.

He laughed. “I’m sorry. If it’s any reassurance, I’m quite pleased with it now.”

“Yeah, you said you cut it,” she said, reaching up to touch it with a pained smile. She had moved to lay down in his lap now and look up at him; the anger seemed to have left her, at least, but it had left in its place a terrible exhaustion that made her seem delicate and weary, like a battered old love note kept in a pocket as a charm. The light did not help. It was eerie and dim after nightfall, making everyone look sickly.

“I wanted you to win me a toy with the claw machine,” she said wistfully.

“I would be thrilled to win you a toy from the claw machine,” he said, leaning back to hold her better.

“We’ve got to leave tomorrow. Lord, James, I don’t know if we can really do this.”

“We’ll have to put Sparrow in a cage to pull it off,” he scoffed. “That’s the difficult part.”

“No, James. When we leave. This king business. I’m afraid I can’t make good on any of my promises to you - again.”

James frowned up at the tiled ceiling.

“Which parts?”

“Our wonderful, terrible reputations. I think I am going to be remembered as a silly girl forever - Sao Feng’s concubine and Barbossa’s too if I am very unlucky - how can I rehabilitate yours if mine is going to fall apart? I can’t keep a hold on anything; it’s like grasping at a reflection on the water.”

“Perhaps mine is not to be rehabilitated, if it is to save yours,” he said, in a low, pensive voice. “If I am to be unmanned to ensure you are not, that’s probably just the way things ought to be.”

“I don’t think that a weak and feeble pirate king - barely a pirate at all, an upstart from the governor’s mansion - is going to be much of anything to anyone just because she knows how to wield a dildo-”

She laughed, but underneath it was a terrible breath of bitterness and resignation.

“Then we'll find a target for you to conquer,” said James, “and you will conquer it. You've commanded a fleet before.”

“I just don’t think I can do this. I don’t know that I can maintain it.”

“I have faith in you, Elizabeth.”

He brought her hand to his lips and kissed it.

“Far more, I might add, than I have in my own reputation.”

She extended her fingers to brush along his cheek.

“Mmm, you trimmed.”

“I hope you don't mind,” he said, tilting affectionately into her touch. “I may have turned pirate but I'm not about to grow some kind of sea-dog beard.”

“No, I quite like this.”

“Thank you. Someone among the men around here ought to give a damn.”

She rolled her eyes and turned her head to the side, looking out over the dim Macy’s and its displays, which took on monstrous characteristics after the lights went out.

“Thank-you, Captain Norrington, for your expert sartorial opinion, shall you inspect their nails, while you are at it-”

“That's for the armorer, with how many here use them as weapons.”

Elizabeth covered her mouth to try and stifle a giggle. Being as tired as she was, she failed.

“I never did have much opportunity to think of these things for myself, you know,” he said wistfully. “I'm beginning to enjoy it.”

She reached up to stroke his cheek again. He had found a marvelous balance between bearded and well-groomed; she wanted him to know she had noticed.

James smiled down warmly at her.

“How's your head?”

“My head? I’m not the idiot that got into a brawl today.”

“You've been crying,” he reminded her.

“I have not,” she said, stiffening.

“I thought you had. I'm sorry-”

“Sorry to disappoint you, Captain,” said Elizabeth, sitting up icily.

“On the contrary. It's a relief to know you have not. I mistook your few tears earlier for something else.”

She was pulling her hair to the side and finger-combing it with something too glacial to be sullenness. “Hmm?” she interrogated, sounding bored.

“Never mind. I'm glad you're well. I thought I had done yet more unrealized damage‍.”

“Well,” Elizabeth said flatly. “Yes, after a manner I am just fine.”

She did not sound it, nor did she have any intention to.

“After a manner,” James repeated, unconvinced.

“Well, what do you expect?” she said with a renewed stoniness, a wall seeming to come down between them in her eyes. “After what you two put me through today - I am going to be lucky if they keep their whispers and their taunting where I cannot hear it - ”

“That’s my fault,” he sighed, “not his. Turner’s… well, the world has a very strange sense of humor.”

“I am not laughing.”

“He’s not a pirate,” James blurted, “and…” James swept his hand up toward his face in a bitter little jerking motion.

“The irony is rather thick, that’s all.”

“May the irony protect me, then, from reprobation,” she said too sweetly, with a fluid, facetious hand gesture to imitate a bow. “I believe I’m going to go to sleep now-”

“All you need say for him is that he’s out of your jurisdiction,” he said, a little tersely. “That leaves the fault with me. He’s… he’s not coping well, Elizabeth.”

“Oh,” she said, and froze.

It was all she could think to say. It was not a surprise, if he and James were going to brawl about it, but to hear it from James himself filled her with foreboding - like the hull of a ship fills with brackish water.

“In Cuba,” said James, “when I thought you had gone back to him, Barbossa came and spoke to me.”

Elizabeth looked over and up at him, hands curled beneath her face half as though in supplication. She could think of no words, not now, but the enormity of her eyes asked the question for her.

“To offer his condolences, allegedly.” He scoffed at this. “To reason that perhaps it wasn't meant to be.”

He sat and leaned forward instead, elbows to knees.

“Of course, he had another idea of how I could still serve you.”

James tipped his head toward her duffle bag.

Elizabeth’s mouth opened.

“He didn’t,” she said in anger and indignation, despair swelling in her chest like a hard intake of air, knowing full well that he had - that he had made the same suggestion to her, well before Will had shown up.

“I told him I would do no such thing unless it was by your command,” he said. “Now the situation has reversed and Turner has already made the same choice on his own. If Barbossa gets through to him- well.”

Real fear flickered across her features.

“God help me,” she said faintly. “I couldn’t live with it.”

“That was the cause of our…clash this afternoon,” James said solemnly.

“I have to - “ Elizabeth started to leave in visible agitation, but instead of getting out of the bed, when her feet hit the floor, she turned her head abruptly and looked at James, feeling sick. “God - what can I do? How do I convince him?”

“We have to find a way to bargain with Jones, first of all- if such a thing even exists. Elizabeth-”

She turned her back to him, anxiously wrenching her hair over her shoulder and tugging on it in a poor imitation of taking care of it.

“You were the only one I cared about knowing I possessed the heart,” James said softly. “The only one. I swear it. It wasn't about power, it was- the way you whispered of it in bed with me-”

It took her a moment to understand what he meant by this - it was an abrupt change of pace from what her mind had been racing about.

“You didn’t say that to him, did you?” she demanded, voice clipped.

“Of course not,” said James.

“I don’t even remember that,” she went on coolly.

“You were having a bit of a moment,” he admitted. “I don’t take it as a particular compliment outside of that… specific context, shall we say-”

“ - ah,” she said, coloring slightly. She had not recalled it, but she could now imagine it, which was almost worse.

“You asked me how it felt to be the most powerful man on the ocean, possessing both Jones’s heart and your own. Well, I’m not,” he said, leaning back on the heel of one hand now. “That’s you, for one. But I… I did feel you loved me rather better for it, at times. That’s all. He felt it was a matter of ensuring the others tolerate me, and I daresay that’s you as well.”

“James,” she sighed, voice ragged. All the same, a note of reluctant, aching fondness had entered her tones. “What am I going to do with you, you’re hopeless.”

“I’m afraid it would be insubordinate for me to make any suggestions,” he said dryly, “lest they be taken as facetiousness.”

“Shall I grant you permission,” asked Elizabeth, stretching warily out on the bed, leaning on her stomach and elbows, hair falling tangled down her back.

“You could always claim it was your idea to take the Gloriana from me. You gave it to two women to further put me in my place.”

Elizabeth groaned, leaning her face into her hands a moment in contemplation. “You realize, I suppose, that that implies it is demeaning to lose to women.”

“Not inherently,” said James, “but most of them have guessed what we do in bed together. They would probably view it as an extension of… well, that.”

“We’ve only done that once,” she said with a snort, rubbing the side of her nose with her thumb.

“They don’t know that. Without a ship, you might even go so far as to start calling me commodore again-”

“Are you saying you want to be a commodore again? Am I to demean you or to promote you,” she asked wearily.

“When it no longer carries any meaning, I think it becomes an insult in itself. I don’t know. Thinking about being addressed by that rank feels like putting a finger into an open wound.”

Feels like it, but isn’t.

“Suppose it’s worth considering,” Elizabeth murmured with her eyes shut. She leaned in to rest her face in her hands a moment.

“Or perhaps merely ‘King’s dog’,” he said, musingly.

“You’re already my dog,” she said a little testily. Her voice was muffled against her hand. Am I to demean you or promote you?

She concentrated on the small, unsettling background noises of the storefront, and hastily refocused on James’ breathing.

It all came back to the simple, amusing little truth that she did not want to punish him, but to be lax as an authority figure where her mistress was concerned would not do very well. She and James had wanted to be at sea and cementing their reputations by now, but they were on the Jack Odyssey and God only knew when they would be able to leave - it was imperative she maintain a grip on that authority here and now.

“James,” Elizabeth said, opening her eyes and lifting her chin, rubbing her face in exhaustion. “I need a public spectacle. I need you humbled - if not humiliated.”

James had already been still, but his back stiffened, like a wary animal’s.

“What kind of public spectacle,” he asked, without much inflection.

Elizabeth moved to her hip, and then pushed herself wearily to a sitting position, reaching out to touch the back of his wrist.

“I don’t know - something that does not hurt you, I prefer. But I cannot be seen going soft on you again. You know that Captain Barbossa intimated I should either torture or kill you if you had another misstep - and he likes me personally. But I do not kid myself that the man who originally marooned me would defend my lovesickness over a pair of squabblings boys for very long. Of course, there is another option,” she said uncomfortably. “If I were to treat the matter as I would with anyone else, striking you earlier would have been enough.”

“I would rather be flogged than made to look additionally hapless and foolish in front of these people,” James said, a little more heatedly- but under the temper there was a note of pleading. He did not look at her.

“We could - we could part entirely,” she said numbly. “I would not have to harm a hair on your head.”

“Elizabeth-”

“I know it isn’t ideal,” she said, a struggle to keep composure. “I am not even angry anymore - how could I be angry at you and Will for behaving like reckless, silly boys? But you are not just anyone, you are-”

“Beckett’s former admiral,” James muttered, “and your bedwarmer, useful for very little but the flesh, and a drunk-”

“My sweetheart,” she corrected him, gently, closing her hand over the back of his.

Just as he was the Admiral’s son. Of course. One always did have to bear more for such privileges, didn’t one?

“Very well,” said James, still without moving. His eyes were open, but he was not quite seeing anything, in a way that had nothing to do with the dim light of the storefront.

“Perhaps,” said Elizabeth, struggling to keep her voice steady, “you could - perhaps you should leave on the Gloriana, as - as planned originally-”

“No, that won’t be necessary,” he said. “You may have your spectacle. I understand.”

Elizabeth shook her head, and tears fell down her cheeks on account of the swift motion.

“I can’t flog you. You must understand. I think they expect a flogging - Barbossa offered me the use of his cat - and I think it will affect me if I don’t deliver. God help me, I can’t do that.”

“I can bear a flogging,” he said, lifting his voice a little more emphatically.

“But don’t you see I can’t?” she asked, her voice breaking. She gasped just once, then pulled him in sharply to hide her sobs against his shoulder.

James’s whole body jerked in surprise and he sat up, pulling her with him as he put his arms around her.

“It’s- never mind, darling, I’m sorry- please forgive me. Do- do whatever you must, all right? I’ll bear it-”

He stared over her shoulder, expressionless, but rubbed gently between her shoulders anyway.

Hideous, it seemed to her, for him to be bringing her comfort in a time like this.

“I told you,” Elizabeth sniffed; “after you arrived on the Pearl drunk as a dog Barbossa intimated that it might be better to kill you if you made a mistake again. I’ve been up for hours thinking about what to do with you to curb their resentment, to satiate their lust to see you punished. It would be easier if you weren’t my James Norrington, my father’s first choice for my husband and my oldest friend. The faster I am to pardon you, the faster my position decays. You have no idea - perhaps you and you alone have some idea - how little I have to go back to if I should lose this. This - the one thing, the only thing I’ve ever had, that affords me the respect and independence, the protection, that formerly I could only have because - because you or Will would still have me in spite of my ruin - and soon I will have lost you both -”

James pulled himself back to look at her properly- eyes focused and purposeful again, brows knit.

“I won’t let it come to that,” he said, chafing her hands between his now, as though she had fallen overboard.

Elizabeth smiled weakly, but sincerely, even though her eyes were reddened and wet.

“I think you must be Commodore Norrington again,” she said apologetically. “Even from me, darling.”

“Whatever you need-”

“Oh, James,” she said, and the smile faltered. “You. I need you -”

She pulled him into her arms, leaning her head on his shoulder again faintly.

Even if she had to - even if she had to hurt him, to keep him - it would be worth it. And perhaps he would forgive her in time, if he wanted badly enough to be kept.

“I- thank you, Elizabeth,” he said, relieved that he no longer had to keep eye contact with her.

Elizabeth lingered in his arms, contemplating the weight and the smell of him, and how much she shrank from the thought of making him suffer, yet how much she would if she lost him.

It was a tense minute that she stayed there before she pulled back and looked at him again, astonished by an idea that seemed, to her, to be a very harmless alternative.

“Commodore Norrington,” she was putting together rapidly. “A promotion ceremony -”

“A what-”

“Pirates- you know how they thrive on theatricals. Putting on mock trials when they’re bored and such like. I’ll promote you to Commodore - make a show of it. It will hurt your pride - only your pride. And it will satisfy them - I’m certain it will satisfy them. James-”

She had tears falling from her eyes again, and an elated smile.

“I can keep you - and keep you safe-”

James stared at her.

“Safe?” he repeated. “My God- if they wanted to kill me, they already would have-”

“From the whip- or whatever else anyone can suggest to me if I don’t act to their satisfaction. God knows-”

“I’ve been whipped before- I know what to expect, it’s fine- Elizabeth, please don’t fret about this-”

“It will be one ceremony - they’ll forget it as soon as it’s happened, it will all be, as they say, water under the bridge,” she said, putting her hand in his hair and gently combing it out.

“Will they? Elizabeth- I’ve let some of those men bugger me for drinking money-”

“Those men would enjoy your suffering whatever form it took - at least this way you will have all the outside appearance of it and nothing more. Oh, James,” she said, ruffling his hair. “I think it would work.”

“...the outside appearance of it, yes,” James mumbled, lowering his eyes. “Of course.”

She kissed him on the cheek. James limply patted her leg. She pulled back from him and glanced down at it, with a titter of uncomfortable laughter.

“Do you know,” she asked softly. “Did I - or anyone - tell you what Barbossa did to Will’s father?”

“I don’t pry into the personal histories of pirates unless it is to gain an advantage,” he answered, so arrogantly and automatically that it was as though she had been swept a few years into the past.

Elizabeth pulled back and looked at him in shock and no small measure of disgust. James turned his head, his eyes averted and his jaw set. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and straightened his back, which he hoped would mask how much he was trembling..

“Maybe the advantage in this case would be the benefit of some human decency,” she said shortly.

“I'm sorry,” James sighed. “I'm- never mind. I'm sorry. You never told me anything about the elder Turner’s involvement with Barbossa.”

“It seems it would not interest you if I had,” said Elizabeth, rummaging through her stash of things by the bedside. She had dragged another table over there to rest it on, but she could not find what it was she was after. Everything seemed to her suddenly so useless - even the box of quondams, open and spilling on its side; the three quarters full bottle of whiskey they had appreciated with some now empty soda cans the other night; a card full of strange, cheaply-made earrings she had thought looked pretty and planned to wear (she wanted nothing so poor for James when she pierced his ear - that seemed an unlikely thing now, didn’t it). Such an overabundance of frivolity and waste and jetsam when one good thing, one normal thing that might be found at a bedside was absent. She slammed her palm down on the table in frustration.

“James, get me a hairbrush.”

“Whatever it was, I can assume it was intended to be lethal, seeing where he ended up,” James said flatly. “All that aside, where have you put it?”

“I said get me one,” said Elizabeth in irritation, pushing what seemed to her to be a particularly disgusting hank of her own hair behind her ear. She met his eyes and finished coolly, “dog.”

“From where? Pardon me, but I’m in no mood for this dog business now that you don’t have your public to appease-

“Do you think I am appeased? James,” she said irritably. “Get me a damn brush.”

“Have you already got one, or do you want me to fetch one from elsewhere in here too-“

“If I had one, I wouldn’t need you to fetch it, would I?”

“Good God- fine, fine. Give me a moment.”

He stormed away from the bed and wove his way out of the maze of display rooms. As he passed through something that was probably a sitting room, he knocked over a standing lamp that fell on and shattered a glass tabletop; James bit off a loud curse before turning a corner and disappearing into the darkness of the rest of the store.

Elizabeth regretted sending him, but no so much she could call him back. She sit on the edge of the bed and willed her hands stay on her knees, far away from her hair. She thought she might tear it out if she didn’t.

He returned around ten minutes later and dropped the brush on the bed beside her.

“Here you are. I’m going to sleep, if Your Majesty should deign to permit it.”

He picked up the whiskey bottle from the bedside table and took a few swallows to take the edge off, before pointedly setting it back down and turning to her with an exaggerated bow.

She met his eyes with guilt and reluctance.

“Brush it.”

It was still phrased as an order, but she bit her lip and rephrased it. She’d grown brittle in the moments without him.

“I mean I want you to brush it.”

James’s lips parted, and he blinked a little too rapidly to try to recover himself.

“Is that- a punishment or a reward? Because I’ve had my fill of the one for today, thank you, and I’m not sure now is the best time for the other-“

“It is primarily for my benefit,” said Elizabeth, her mouth feeling dry. Her eyes sought some forgiveness and understanding in his. “I’m afraid if I do it myself, I’ll pull my hair out.”

James didn’t move for what felt like an age, but he sighed and sat beside her nonetheless.

“Fine,” he said again. “It’s fine.”

He slowly drew her hair back over her shoulders and studied it, feeling as though he were truly seeing the knots and split ends and general damage, everything that she had always complained of as having come with that lovely sunlit blonde shade she had gradually acquired, for the first time.

James cleared his throat and began brushing- small strokes, from the bottom.

“This is not how I used to think this would happen,” he admitted, more than a little bitterly.

“Oh?” she asked, trying to keep her voice even, and drawing her legs up under her slowly enough not to disturb him.

“That is to say, when I allowed myself to think of it at all.”

All of a sudden she knew of what he meant. She was thankful to be so turned away from him as she was.

“I’ve never thought of it at all,” she said, truthfully. She had thought a long time on what it might be to be married to Will, but she had never imagined him brushing her hair. A husband might do such a thing, she supposed. It hurt to be reminded how faithfully James had thought of her. She felt the nails of both hands driving into her palms.

“When we leave this place, I’m teaching you how to take care of this. I haven't the patience to look after mine in that way any longer, but I have all the time in the world for you.”

“Have you?” she asked softly.

“Obviously.”

“James,” she said, clearing her throat; “if you would rather have the Gloriana than a tyrant king, I will not grudge you…”

“We would be lucky to see one another more than a few times a month, if that,” he said sternly.

“I am not confident that you will love me so much if you see me more than that number,” said Elizabeth numbly. “I am not so confident you do not love me less already.”

“What happened to ‘I need you’-“

“Poetry, I suppose. But I told you before I could live without you if I had to. I would rather not, but I…”

Elizabeth swallowed. She thought to herself about how much she did not want to hurt him as he had been by all the rest of the world, and then how much all the rest of the world might punish her if she let him set the pace in matters of his punishment.

She thought of Captain Barbossa’s ambiguous respect for her and his transparent contempt for James Norrington, and wondered what could transpire between her and the latter to make the former turn on her. Anything, really.

And Barbossa was the nice one out of the lineup of pirate lords whose fealty she nebulously had.

But here James was, hers and hurting all the same.

What other options did she have, then, but to set him free?

“...It would be better, I think, to leave you a captain for the time being,” she said carefully, as though it were only a political matter. “I do not think the matter will be long in anyone’s mind after we have parted - it will not be long, then, if you - if you so choose to later join me on the Empress -”

James stopped brushing and slammed his hands down on his thighs in irritation, startling her.

“For God’s sake, Elizabeth, if you don’t want me, at least grant me the courtesy of saying so-“

“Do you want to be promoted?” Elizabeth demanded, turning to face him.

“What kind of game are you playing with me?” James retorted, his voice rough with distress. “Elizabeth- I can’t live like this. I’m exhausted by trying to live up, or down, or whichever the day demands, to the expectation of how I am to best serve you-“

“Then don’t,” she said plainly, blinking a few too many times. “It is clear what you want from me and what I can give you are two different things.”

“Do you not want me on the Empress?”

“I can’t be your wife, James,” Elizabeth said by way of an answer, the tears burning in her eyes; but she did not shy away from holding them steady on his.

“Of course not. God, imagine that lot out there calling you Mrs. Norrington. Mrs. Dog-”

“You would be taking my name,” she said as though a reprimand.

James stared at her, flabbergasted.

“You’ve thought about this?”

Elizabeth colored. Her distress at this coming up now when they were not certain to be together very long was immense.

“If you - would have permitted it only-”

James Swann. He wanted to feel the name in his mouth, but if he said it out loud he knew he would betray himself.

“From what you seem to want,” he said, very carefully, “I don't think it matters.”

Elizabeth let out a bitter laugh, drying her eyes on her shirt.

“I don’t think I can reasonably be accused of having misled you about my intentions,” she said with a faint edge to her voice. “I have always planned on remaining the Pirate King. And yet you still hope I will change my mind.”

“I have never said that,” James retorted.

“And yet you continually balk at it,” said Elizabeth. “And now I am accused of playing a game with you, because you don’t like to be my dog, as though I can make allowance for something else-”

“Why has being your dog meant my humiliation from the beginning, rather than simply my subordination?”

“Perhaps if you were not so determined to make an ass of yourself-”

“Because I wasn't about to let Turner destroy himself-”

“Then why did you not come to me? I found the two of you brawling in a fountain-” Elizabeth cried in a rush of strong feeling.

“Elizabeth,” James sighed, “do you even love me, or am I just here?”

“I do love you,” said Elizabeth with an acute sense of despair. “I can’t flog you. I can’t promote you. You think I do not love you because I do not let you walk all over me? I cannot love you less than myself and you cannot ask me to-”

“I have never asked to walk over you- I don't wish to even put you in my shadow-”

“What do you wish, then?”

James studied her a moment longer, smiling sadly.

“I want to be with you,” he said.

He took her hands in his.

“May I continue brushing your hair?”

“You needn’t, I can care for myself,” she said, feeling at last the chagrin she was due on reflection of how poorly she had treated him.

“It's all right,” he said. “Beside that, you’ll probably destroy it in the temper you're in.”

“I think all my temper is gone,” she said after a moment. “Do you really not know that I love you? After all of this, that you are here with me because I had the option?”

“In your grief, then. It's rather fragile, darling. And I- I’m not always certain of the…”

He lowered his eyes for a moment and looked back at her with a sad smile.

“The depth of it, perhaps.”

He still held her hands in his own, and she brought them up to kiss them and ease the pain he brought her.

“Do you, as a sailor, deny the depths of the sea, even where you cannot see them with looks alone?”

“Don't compare yourself to the sea, when I have lost so much to it.”

“Very well,” she said shortly, pressing his hands, and gently pushing them away. “Brush my hair or don’t, it’s nothing to me.”

“All this time,” he said, “I have told myself that you chose me. You chose me.”

He looked at his rejected hands, and then away from her altogether.

“But I am forced to wonder for what purpose.”

“Yes, what indeed,” she said listlessly, getting out of bed to undress, clumsily and not for show, before getting back in again, sliding beneath the covers. It was cooler inside the Macy’s with the lights gone out than she was fully accustomed to growing up in the Caribbean.

He looked back over his shoulder at her.

“Come here.”

Elizabeth rolled over with a groan to rest her head again in his lap, gingerly.

“Sit up. I’m going to brush your hair, all right?”

“If you want to,” she said, indifferent with exhaustion, but sitting up just the same. “I have given it up as ever looking well again.”

“Give it time,” he said, without the slightest hint of self-awareness, as he began again.

“And effort on your part,” she added, in softer, reconciliatory tones.

“If you want it,” James said cautiously. “I don't want you to feel I am unduly prioritizing something as frivolous as your hair.”

“It is of little consequence,” she agreed readily, but she was equally quick to admit, “but I can’t help feeling a connection between the degradation of my hair and the degradation of my moral character. It used to be - if I may be allowed to say so - it used to be very nice.”

She laughed nervously.

“I tried not to think of it,” said James, with a weak laugh of his own.

“Because it fares the worst at present by comparison?”

“No- I meant to say, in Port Royal.”

“Ah,” said Elizabeth, nervously tilting her head back by a fraction as he worked on the very ends. “Thank you at least for your ‘trying’; that says to me that sometimes you must have failed, and I appreciate it.”

“Often,” he said softly.

“I’m sorry it’s not what it would have been,” said Elizabeth quietly, “on our…”

She was not able to finish. James paused, mid-stroke.

“It was never truly about your hair,” he said, in the same quiet voice.

“I hope not, at this point; I would have lost your affection by now, then,” she tried to joke.

“To quote the wisdom of a very close friend, whose opinion I hold in the highest of regard,” James said as he began to brush again, “if it bothers you so terribly, you should cut it.”

He was gentle in a way that belied his words, though he hadn't spoken with much of an attempt to convince, either. It may not have been about her hair but it certainly didn't hurt.

“It did not until very recently,” she confessed. “But now I feel as though I have neglected more than my hair.”

James swept her hair forward, over her shoulder, exposing the nape of her neck and then pressing a soft, solemn kiss to it, just below her hairline.

“Just as you are the only one to pay any attention to my hair,” she said, shutting her eyes, “I believe you are the only one between us to possess any moral strivings, today excepting.”

“The very fact of your concern shows you are better than you think,” he murmured, close to her shoulder.

“Will you - will you keep brushing it, please,” she asked faintly, as much to feel the nurturing comfort of that attention as to prevent her heartsickness at the attentions he was currently providing instead.

“Oh- yes, of course,” he said. “I’m sorry. I’m afraid I’ll damage it-”

But he continued, nonetheless.

“Better to rip the knots out now than later-”

“I would prefer to be gentle and avoid ripping anything out,” he said, with a note of finality.

That very same gentleness that she had long misconstrued as dullness made her smile to herself now. She knew, even as her mood had softened, that she held him at arm’s length, but she could not draw him any closer.

“I can do it, if you prefer,” she reminded him.

“And rip out the knots?” James said dryly.

“If need be.”

“Allow me to spare you that fate. I happen to be fond of this hair.”

“A fact with which I am well acquainted,” she managed, “to my pleasure, although not my understanding.”

“It's not your hair itself so much as the circumstances under which I might have once had this kind of access to it.”

She took that remark with a vivid picture soon entering her head and draining her of some of the happiness she had just regained, until she, seemingly very abruptly, turned her head - pulling her hair from his grasp, even unto his involuntarily pulling a strand still in the hairbrush enough to hurt - and said, “Do you know what circumstances first came to my mind? A marooning.”

“Would you have really wanted me to kiss you then-”

“No,” she said shortly; “you know my thoughts were all for Will then, and how much I feared Barbossa opening his throat. But my hair was certainly quite down for Jack Sparrow, wasn’t it?”

She took note of her own bitterness and checked herself.

“I only marvel that that is where my head went first, that’s all. Of course it’s a very - a lovely picture to imagine a virtuous bride letting her hair down for the first time on her wedding night-”

“There were two competing wedding nights in my mind,” James murmured. “The one in which we did everything I had hoped for, and the one in which I could not bear to.”

“James,” she said softly, with a sincere look of pain making her flinch, even as she reached up to touch his roughened cheek - the one that did not have a mark from Will’s ineffectual blade upon it. “You know now there shall probably never be a wedding night. Let’s not think on what might have been any longer. Besides the specific regret, it forces me to consider other things I have lost out on - my maidenhood and my virtue, my standing, my family- I have your company, I hope for a little while more, and I have your love. I have your love, don’t I?” she asked with real doubt and real hope.

James looked rather hurt.

“You know you do.”

Elizabeth worried her lower lip a while.

“Perhaps I can…. call you ‘commodore,’” she said doubtfully, “and have that pass for humiliation enough-”

“Really? I- oh, thank you. Thank you-”

He kissed her hands with sincerity he would later recall as embarrassing, but in the moment his relief was enough that his head swam a little.

“And keep you with me on the Empress without much judgment from the rest of them - those not on our crew, anyway. On the Empress they won’t care. They don’t know you or your father so well in Singapore that they have that peculiar lust to see you ground down, and you are just some man to tem.”

“And I will let the ladies have use of the Gloriana as a sign of trust,” he agreed, beginning to smile in earnest now

Elizabeth was more hesitant.

“I think I shall still have to avoid you publicly a while,” she said. “But God knows if Barbossa will be convinced without a further show. Oh, I can’t wait to be back on the Empress-”

“Barbossa is probably too eager to practice on Turner now that he's the weak link in our chain to notice,” James retorted.

“You don’t know much of Captain Barbossa,” said Elizabeth, a little frostily. “You should fear him more, even if we are, as I hope, out of the range of exciting his displeasure.”

James gave her a questioning look.

“I’m serious,” she pressed him.

“I’m sure you are. Elizabeth, if you feel you need protection from him- just in case, God forbid-”

“I am the one who is meant to be protecting you,” she said heatedly. “But how can I if you strip me of all dignity and respect-”

“What happened out there?” he asked, his frown deepening. “Before he marooned you. I ultimately assumed it could not have been so terrible; you're wretchedly fond of the man-”

His surprising her with the question caught her very miserably off guard; the large solemnity of her eyes and the way that they avoided him after fixing on him for one intense, brief moment of shock was generally unlike her.

“He didn't-”

“Didn’t what?”

“...use indelicate force against you-”

Elizabeth moved to refute him, but pressed her lips together instead with a look of great exertion and turned away from him again, as though he were to continue to brush her hair.

It was only when she could no longer see him that she could make herself speak.

“I don’t know that he wouldn’t have, and that is the most honest answer I can give. There was a certain implication of interest on his side at the start; he had me change my dress, although I can at least allow that I was abducted from Port Royal in only my nightgown and robe. After he sank the Interceptor, he-”

This required her to chew on the inside of her cheek a long moment before she could bring herself to recount it; she had not spoken of it out loud before.

“ - it was stated,” she said delicately, “by Captain Barbossa, that I had evaded their hospitality once, and ought to return the favor, whereupon he tossed me to the crew and they -”

She could not finish saying it; even saying as much as she had gave her great pain. She was afraid she was giving James leave to conjecture too much on what might have happened, but she could not finish.

“- Will appeared then; he had not gone down with the wreck as we had supposed; since it was his blood they needed to lift their curse, he threatened to shoot himself if his terms were not met. His terms were that the crew be unharmed and I go free. Barbossa agreed to them, but only in those exact words. So I walked the plank and swam to that island, with Jack after me, and the crew, uninjured, went to the brig.”

She paused, and turned back to him with a reddened face and eyes, and then she gave him an exhausted smile.

“At least he had me strip out of the dress before I went in,” she said with a touch of laughter and a heavier touch of bitterness. “As much as I cannot say I liked to give the men a show, wearing it I am sure I would have drowned.”

“And this man- and members of his crew,” James said slowly. “This man has been among us the entire time- taking in stray children, dispensing advice-”

“Is that all so peculiar to you? You have forgotten your oppressively dull speech on pirates,” she said with a snort.

James put his hands on her shoulders.

“Say the word and he’s as good as dead.”

Elizabeth’s eyes rolled half through her head.

“No.”

“Elizabeth, I’ve slain dozens just like him-”

“And like me too, I expect.”

“Regardless-

“Whatever he has been to me in the past, now he is my ally,” she said firmly. “Though not yours, I admit. If you would help me with him, please, please conduct yourself better-”

“I know-”

“After they became aware they were cursed,” Elizabeth said, abruptly, “Will’s father sent him a piece of the treasure, that they might remain so - he said they deserved it for marooning Jack. Barbossa strapped him to a cannon and dropped him into the ocean. An eternity of torment, that was to be. You see how he has only traded one ill fate for another. I don’t pretend I don’t believe better of him now than I once did; I think he is a changed man after the curse. But that is what he is capable of. Don’t be so foolish as you are about him. He would be a very dangerous man to cross, James, and I do not think his threats about you are idle.”

James took a moment to consider that.

“Noted,” he said finally, very softly.

Elizabeth found herself needing him very badly.

“James,” she said.

“Yes, Elizabeth?”

“Hold me-”

James gathered her into his arms and lay down. She fit snugly against his shoulder like this; she was not a small woman, but she felt it at moments like these, and James was overwhelmed by an aching need to protect her, even if she would probably just as quickly reassert that she could do it herself.

“I cannot say I’ve forgotten why we quarreled,” she sighed, “but I certainly don’t care anymore. I am surprised you and Will did not come to blows earlier, to tell the truth; and I am equally certain that forcing the two of you into close quarters will serve as punishment enough, for when you don’t repeat the mistake it will be clear a lesson was learnt. There. I am done being King for the night, I think, which means you no longer have to be dog, if you wish it.”

“Thank God,” he said, with a tired-sounding laugh. “I am content enough to be your man.”

Her answering smile was real and vivid, and she leaned up to kiss him with all the passion she had saved for him while waiting by the claw machine.

“You never let me finish with your hair,” James laughed.

“Mm, did you want to? I find I mind less, now that I am secure in your affection, how it looks-”

“Next thing we know, you’ll be filling it with nonsense like Sparrow’s-”

“I don’t want it in mats,” she responded indignantly. “It would be one thing if i had hair like Tia Dalma’s - Jack’s is just dirty. Barring mats I can’t see anything staying in my hair. And, good God, I won’t have it said I think Jack is a style icon-”

“Then perhaps,” he teased, “you ought to let me finish.”

Elizabeth tossed her hair as she sat up, smirking at him like it was a challenge, telling him he could go ahead. James grinned back and went for the brush.

As he pushed her hair back over her shoulders in preparation for her to turn around, James stopped for a moment and gathered it in his hands, lifting it from her face.

“Do my eyes deceive me, or is this the foolhardy young lad who struck me with a rum bottle during a brawl in Tortuga?”

“This is she.”

“She? Ah, that explains why he's so pretty.”

She put her hands on his chest and moved them up to cup his face. There was so much she wanted to ask him in the way of sentimentality and affection, but, while touching his lips with her thumb, what she in fact said was, “I’ve thought of more duties for you.”

“I thought I was done being your dog tonight,” said James, though thankfully in a decidedly non-accusatory tone.

“Can’t be helped,” she said with little remorse. “I think I must have you do my hair from here on out. I’d forgotten what a convenience it is - and never known it could be such a pleasure.”

James emitted a sudden bark of startled laughter.

“I’m not certain I’ll be good for more than a plait-”

“I can dress it myself. But you’re to brush it.”

His smile softened. “I would be thrilled to.”

She kissed him.

“Turn around, then- don’t keep me waiting!”

She rolled her eyes again good-naturedly, but she did so; the last he saw of her face before she turned her head again was the soft radiance of a smile meant only for him.

“You know,” he said as he began brushing, “I think if Theo were to ever find out about this, he would positively refuse to let me live it down.”

“Somehow imagine that is true of a lot of what we do in bed.”

“He gave me such trouble for the time I spent on my uniform, to say nothing of my hair-”

She remembered Lieutenant Groves from Port Royal; she had always gotten on with him very well. An amiable man, likely given to mischief. It was not that strange, if he was friends with James, that James should like her too.

“I like to give you trouble for those things, too.”

“Elizabeth.”

“I rather think you like to be given trouble yourself.”

“I was the Admiral’s son,” he said. “I had obligations to uphold.”

“Now you’re my lover. I like to think you still have some.”

“Is this the earring again?”

“It can be the earring. I had given that up. I only meant that you reflect on me now. I’m answerable for your deeds and appearance.”

She came close to renewing her complaints over his behavior of that afternoon, but enough had been said about it to exhaust her on the subject, and she did not want the office of authority any longer tonight.

“You can have the earring,” he grumbled good-naturedly. “Though I may have to challenge your notion of wearing anything dangling; that's all but asking to be grabbed and pulled on in close combat.”

He had found a snarl, and was pinching above it with one hand as he brushed from the bottom with the other, to keep it from pulling on Elizabeth’s scalp. James resolved in that moment that he would never allow her hair to return this state again.

Elizabeth winced, grateful again he could not see her face.

“Will has a hoop,” she said bluntly. “I would rather not invite the comparison-”

“And it still dangles,” James countered, “so I think we're in agreement.”

“Have what you will,” said Elizabeth. “Let it not be said I put fancy jeweled collars on my dog like some vain Frenchwoman.”

“Oh my God-”

“The Pirate King must have a little taste. I’ve got so many other Pirate Lords to offset,” she deadpanned.

“And I am, I suppose, a necessary accessory.”

“A bodyguard,” she said evenly.

“Ah,” he said. “Oh, that's far more palatable.”

“The kind of bodyguard that does one’s hair. But also the kind of bodyguard that does one. So, you know. A lover.”

“We won't mention the matter of your hair, I should think.”

“No, indeed, that I like too much to let others know it. Others would make something vulgar of it and I think it is very lovely,” said Elizabeth, mortifying herself with shyness.

He reached forward and let a stray lock of it fall over his finger, and kissed it.

“Is that the strand you want for your coat?” asked Elizabeth, unable to resist taking a moment too open and unguarded and teasing him for it, though the way she looked over her shoulder was devastatingly sincere.

“Any strand will do. I shall try harder not to lose this one.”

“Well, you can’t have that one,” she argued, “now that you have kissed it it is too dear to me-”

James gathered the whole sunny mass of her hair in his hands and brought it to his lips.

“Oh, dear. Now I suppose I shan’t have anything,” he laughed. “It’s all right. Better on your head.”

Elizabeth burst into unladylike squeals of laughter, leaning back on him the easier to nudge him with her elbow. “I nearly dare to say - there is technically speaking other hair you could have - but you’ve kissed that all over, haven’t you -”

“Elizabeth-”

Now it was she that kissed him all over, turning around in his arms to take him into hers, kissing him on the chest, the throat, the face, and the lips, finally, sliding into his lap with a patient insistence that he suffer her there to touch his chin with her fingertips and kiss him again and again, not hastily or in a rush of passion but the good sense to go slowly and enjoy him.

“Mm- I haven't finished-”

“You keep tempting me away from letting you,” she said with an unfelt indignation, guiding him to lay back and let her lean over him.

“It's not my fault you’ve no sense of control,” James said, faux-accusatory, as he lay down.

“Very wrong, commodore, it is only that I best love to control others, and best love among others, controlling you, so with that in mind, put your hands back in my hair-”

“And to think I worried that you thought I loved you only for that,” James said, a little wistfully.

“It does a king good to know someone is noticing and appreciating her remaining feminine attributes,” Elizabeth snorted.

“The rest are less concealed than you think,” James retorted.

Elizabeth rubbed one of her legs on his. “At the moment.”

“You cut a rather delicate figure.”

“I suppose compared to you,” she said, her hand creeping up his body. “You’re as broad as a ship yourself.”

“Thank you,” he said dryly, though unoffended.

“I don’t think it registers much til you are nearly on top of me,” she said reconciliatorially.

“The Admiral has a low opinion of staying. I suppose for that I am grateful to him.”

“And so am I,” she said, with an admiring lookover. She met his eyes and smiled.

“I’ll be sure to pass that along.”

Elizabeth erupted in laughter.

“Yes, I am sure he is so glad you ran off with the Pirate King-”

“He probably feels gratified to have twenty-five years of suspicion confirmed,” said James, with a startled, hollowish laugh of his own.

“But what a smart match I am. The former governor’s daughter, and now I am royalty. Elected royalty, but all the same- did the rest of your family strive so high-”

“Young Laurence is a viscount now,” he said, “so I have done my part to emulate him.”

He began finger-combing her hair.

Elizabeth leaned into it until her nose touched the palm of his hand and she could nuzzle, gently.

“Of course, Young Laurence isn't nearly so young anymore- he’s nearly of an age with your father- but relative to the Admiral-”

“James,” she asked softly.

“Yes?”

“Do you miss your family? I forget too often that you still have yours.”

His fingers slowed as he tried to think of an answer to that.

“I never knew my brothers as well as I would like,” he said, after a pensive silence. “They were both already grown when I was born. Laurence has a son two years my elder-”

“Good God, really?”

“He was twenty-five years old at the time. It's hardly unusual.”

“It’s only difficult for me to imagine. I’ve been simultaneously the heir and the infant of my household all my life.”

“I think William- that is to say, my brother, William- I think he was more the infant than I was,” he said, with a rather sad laugh. “Heaven knows he was always my mother's favorite. She had Laurence too early, and myself too late, and suffered for us both. William came very easily and agreeably by comparison.”

“You can be my infant,” she said agreeably, ruffling his hair in a manner that did not pass as maternal. “It can’t help but make me sad, the way you speak of your family.”

“Please don't fret on my account,” he said, though he leaned a little into the ruffling. “It's not as though I did not benefit from any of it-”

“Let me baby you,” she argued with a tone of warning.

“Elizabeth-“

“Why should I not? You owe it to me to have my way in everything-”

Elizabeth’s concept of babying was the tenderest of touches and a good number of kisses along the jawline, while leaning back to stroke his hair and look at him every so often.

“I find it odd, at times, to realize I don't hate him,” he said, with a thoughtful frown.

Sensing some of her kisses would be unwelcome, Elizabeth turned her head to kiss his fingers instead.

“I nearly did, for some time in my youth. I thought- never mind.”

“You can tell me.”

He huffed, as though steeling himself.

“When I was very small, I can recall my mother shouting at the Admiral that her carrying me was something he had done to her. I don't suppose I need explain how I later came to believe I had been conceived.”

He pressed his lips together as he looked up at the plain tiled ceiling, rather than Elizabeth’s face.

“She departed for her health shortly after my third birthday. She said she was hardly fit for English society any longer. She could hardly face any of her old rivals, obviously, not with a mouth full of false teeth and her hair full of switches. The difficulties of a late pregnancy, you understand. Of course, once I finally brought the matter to her when I was able to visit her again in Naples as a young man, she quite kindly assured me that he had done nothing of the sort.”

He laughed a little.

“She asked me not to blame myself. I was only the byproduct, after all. She and the Admiral both thought she was past childbearing age, and- well-”

He gestured at himself. “Surprise.”

Elizabeth pressed a quick kiss to his cheek.

“It's no matter now,” he said. “I’ve had years to grow accustomed to it.”

“You seem to be so fragile to me,” she reflected in a soft voice. “How precarious your situation, within your family, within the Navy, and now, in all society - even among pirates you are seldom wanted. It’s as though if one thing falls out of place you will disappear. The world is too cruel to protect such people as you; it seems it falls to me to do it. Doesn’t seem right, does it? I am in hardly any less precarious a placement.”

“Oh, I was quite in demand until the hurricane,” he said, rather wistfully. “I had your father's patronage, the Admiral’s name, four limbs, the usual assortment of facial features- good ones, if you will permit me to say it myself- and thirty-two teeth. Jamaica Station didn't care that my career path was less than glorious to the Admiralty. I was the proverbial large fish in a small pond, and God help me, I was proud of it all.”

Elizabeth felt some discomfort, seeing how much she had longed to leave the place, and how, when the time to do so had finally come, it had been under such misfortunes as to ensure she could never think of it without some regret. Now she pondered her life in Port Royal, and unable to avoid it, what their life there might have been, or hers with Will - thinking about her losses, tallying them up, and subtracting them from his.

“Estrella - my maid - she deemed it a ‘smart match,’” she said, with an embarrassed titter of laughter. “If only I had been the kind of woman to esteem a smart match. Amelia pressed me hard to consider you before you even asked me. She said - but nevermind.”

“What did she say?”

“I don’t know that it would do you any good to hear it. In any case, I am sure she would have used the same language as Estrella, if things had taken a different course, and I had written her a letter on your proposal before Barbossa escorted me to the Isla de Muertos.”

“Smart enough, I suppose. Had your father not been your father I suspect he would have looked higher.”

“For me?” Elizabeth burst into laughter. “He knew what I was. I can promise you he had no expectation of that. How often he used to say to me, ‘Much as I would happily keep you to care for me into my old age…’”

All good humor fled at the memory. She felt a dizzying rush of pain at the cruel realization, and pressed her cheek hard against James’ shoulder, willing herself not to feel it.

“...let’s just say,” she composed herself, “I have never been eligible.”

“You always were to me,” he said softly.

Elizabeth smiled tightly.

“That was the content of Amelia’s letters, after she married, and I was increasingly desperate to convince her I could barely live without her - she had found no shortage of tenderness with her husband and felt, I suppose, that her life had just begun; mine seemed to have ended - and she did not have the patience for me anymore. She said, if i wanted to change my situation, I had to marry. She asserted that I knew it, and had always known it, and that she did not understand why I still clung to the fantasies of my childhood, instead of looking forward to - well, to conjugal joy, I am certain. She spoke very well of you, you might be pleased to hear. She thought that our formerly very close friendship in my immaturity, and your significance to my father, and your clear regard for me, would make a good basis for marriage, and was less convinced than I was that I would spend the whole of my life ‘rotting on shore’ if I married a naval officer; she thought if nothing else my powers of persuasion and your desire to please me would get me aboard with you as soon as I wanted it. She also had some firm words to say about Will - and I hadn’t intimated that I’d wanted to marry Will! Amelia knew before I did. She said she did not think I would be happy marrying a blacksmith when I could have married a captain and lived at sea. I wish I could write her now; I think it would be a very pretty irony between formerly close friends, for me to say that I became the captain and still ended up with James Norrington. She would not begrudge me some teasing on that point, not when she was right about so much else.”

“You loved her,” said James, with fresh realization. She had said as much before, but the intensity of her words deepened her earlier comments- it had not, it seemed, been the simple flutterings he had taken them for.

Elizabeth shrugged, noncommittal with discomfort. “As a cousin, I thought at the time. I don’t know. I suppose.”

“I'm sorry. I can imagine it must have been… difficult.”

“Yes,” she said distantly. “At the time, very.” She cleared her throat. “Of course I was sending all of these letters that seemed immature and playful - I am certain I said I wished we had run away together before some baron could come take her away to London, and that I was crying every day, and struggling to get out of bed, and hated everyone and everything in Port Royal without her, and she didn’t take me at all as serious. And she confided in me as he started to win her heart away, and I grew more and more miserable that she could be happy and even excited to be happier, without me in her life; I thought I was of greater consequence. She did invite me to stay on with them, and father thought I might like it, but I didn’t want to meet the man. I kept thinking of all our schemes as girls - running away, doing whatever thing had caught our fancy - it was mostly my schemes; Amelia didn’t want to sell poultices and herb bundles in a hut, or become a highwaywoman, or - I don’t know; dress as a boy and go to Oxford with me; but it was diverting to speak of. More than that; it was half hopeful. For a while, after Amelia left - I actually gave it some thought, trying to get into university - they let women into university, in other places - but no one took me seriously enough to let me run the risk of trying.”

She had not thought about this in years; she had gotten fixed on Will a little more and thought of her future as little as she could, and then… But before all of that had happened, there had been this first brush with the terrors of adulthood, the inexorable passage of time that had forced her to recollect the world was not for women in any way, shape, or form.

“At the time I used to have - I would get these pains in my chest, very severely,” she said, putting her hand over her heart, “and my heartbeat would all of a sudden race, and I would be overcome by a feeling of misery or fear; it would come on strong and sudden, and be hard to shake. I’d wake up to them and not want to get out of bed. I would just lie there, quietly crying. Father thought I was growing lazy because I had no friend to look forward to, and I didn’t tell him otherwise; she was the only one who knew about them, and when she was gone, they got worse. Amelia would write me and tell me i had to find a physician or else I really might die. And she didn’t begrudge me your affection - she never had any real hope of having you, she said; her father wouldn’t have allowed the match even if you had thought of her particularly well; and she wouldn’t like to live at sea, she had already admitted. And she was one of the first ones to suggest to me you might be considering me; she and my father. I thought it was normal paternal affection making the best of things when father said it, but from Amelia I was really shocked. At first I thought it was just a little sadness, feeling that you had overlooked her for me because you knew me better, and tried to reassure her of course I thought you must like her, how could you not? She was already giving up on it, though; she knew her father wouldn’t allow it and Amelia was more dutiful than I was.”

Elizabeth started fingercombing her own awful hair.

“It’s difficult to say really. We did kiss; but girls do that, I believe, regardless of the degree of affection between them; they don’t all need to be Ana and Angie to play pretend with each other. And I was as encouraging of her infatuation with you as she was indulgent of mine with Will, so it isn’t as though I could not conceive of myself as being already in love, and not with Amelia.”

James gently paused her hand with his own, afraid that she would subconsciously make good on her threat of ripping her own hair.

“To say that you couldn't live without her, though- for your heart itself to ache without her- that would suggest… a rather un-casual degree of affection.”

“I am sure I wrote some very good stuff,” said Elizabeth with a dark glimmer of laughter, dropping her hand down to rub his chest idly since he had halted its progress in her hair. “It was very foolish for me to expect otherwise, but I felt very rough when she took it all as a funny overstatement of my misery and urged me to go dining with Felicity Whatsherface and whoever else was left in Port Royal we’d somewhat spoken to. It was so hard at the time - her moving on to such happiness with other people, writing to me less and less, and giving me some maternal advice on matrimony when she did. I suppose everyone goes through a similar experience - the early loss or diminishment of a close friend.”

James pushed himself up again and began braiding her hair back so she couldn't menace it any further.

“I wouldn’t know,” he admitted. “I suppose that comes of living as a sort of band for decades at a time.”

“You lost one early friend,” she said in a quiet voice.

“That was my fault.”

“A loss all the same.”

He wasn't sure how to answer that. James finished the braid and secured it with a band from their bedside table in silence.

“There,” he said. “We shall have to get you a bundle of string or something you can worry with your hands instead of your hair. I'm not certain how much more that can take.”

“It’s only hair,” said Elizabeth, a little sullen and remorseful to lose further pleasure from his brushing it tonight. The conversation about Amelia had brought up a lot of memories she would have rather kept buried. Worst of all, it had been so long since she had seen her that Elizabeth no longer fully remembered what she looked like.

“It's hair you intend to keep, is it not?” he retorted.

“Right now, James, I have to admit, it seems a particularly fruitless vanity. I suddenly remember too well what my hair once was, and will never be again.”

“Now who's regaling whom with complaints about their hair? If you care so little for it, at least let me sew the whole plait over my heart in my coat, rather than force me to watch you destroy it and make yourself unhappier.”

He followed this with a kiss to her braid, though, in hope that, as with the smaller strand, this might have made her love it a little more.

“It’s different,” she argued, then relented. “Well - maybe it’s not different. It was my only feminine accomplishment for much of my life. I didn’t like the harp enough to give it much study, and I didn’t like singing - nothing appropriate for company, anyway. When I was younger - but you already know. It was just the only thing about me that could brook no criticism and look at it now.”

James smoothed one of the little loose locks remaining from her by now long-ago half-disguise to flee from Beckett behind her ear. It seemed, he thought, terribly unfair of this place to forcibly alter his hair on arrival and not hers.

“The new growth here is not too far gone,” he pointed out, his hand lingering by her cheek. “The rest will eventually follow. And really, a lifetime of powder and curling tongs is rarely any kinder…”

His voice trailed off as he studied her for a moment longer, feeling a little monstrous for what he was thinking.

“If you can’t bear to wait for that, the only thing to really be done for it would be to cut it. I don't know how you would feel- I feel unpleasantly destructive even saying such a thing. I'm not eager for it; I love the feeling of it falling over me when we-”

Elizabeth smiled.

James stopped himself there, took another breath and continued, “But I don't love you for it. I would be here to help you to keep it from ever growing to cause you such unhappiness again. I hope you will not hold this against me for saying so. I only hate to see you so wretchedly unhappy, no matter how much I love that you have given me the privilege of brushing it.”

She smoothed his own hair affectionately.

“I’m sorry for overrepresenting my dissatisfaction with it. I don’t miss having it done; don’t miss wearing it in public, under a bonnet; don’t miss sipping tea in salons and waiting for a rival to spy it - no; I was never, in the fashionable sense, the equal to any other woman in Port Royal enough to have a rival - but I suppose, long after I have stopped caring for any of those things, I still miss the-”

She stopped herself. She had not thought of it so clearly until forced just now by James and his hopeless sincerity, but now that she knew herself, she could not be proud.

“ - the advantages of it,” she admitted. “I suppose that’s all it was. I did not love the restrictions, but somehow - I suppose it is not really surprising when it comes down to it - I do miss the privilege of being a gentlewoman.”

“I’m certainly in no place to blame you for that.”

“It makes me feel guilty,” she went on quietly. “When I see the other girls and I think about it. Would there have been a fleet out looking for Anamaria, to see a smoke signal on a deserted island and save her? What leverage would Giselle have had, if she had tried to persuade a commodore to rescue a blacksmith’s apprentice? If Angelica fainted at Jack Sparrow’s hanging - not that I think she would have wanted to miss a moment of it,” she added wryly. “You know what I am saying. I got a taste of my loss when I fled Port Royal on the Trader and had to live as a boy for a while. The world is a different place when you’ve got to get by on your merits, not your father’s name and your pretty face.”

“I wouldn't know,” James said darkly. “That's probably the rest of why I can't bring myself to hate him.”

She patted his arm.

“What a relief that James Norrington had the grace to stumble into ruin at the same rate I did. It is most proper of you. Imagine if I were no longer appropriate for you.”

“Oh, please. You're the King. You became something, whereas I…”

He smiled grimly. It didn't last.

Elizabeth’s smile was extinguished abruptly.

“Sorry,” he said absently. “That was unkind of me.”

“I’m the Pirate King because Sao Feng tried to force me,” she mumbled. “It is no merit.”

“I meant only that… never mind. I'm sorry.”

She took his hand.

“I know what you meant.”

“I always admired how little you seemed to care for what was expected of you,” he admitted. “It was a quality I often hoped that I might have learned from you. It shames me to know how many of your worries I did not see.”

“You weren’t often in Port Royal,” she pointed out. “And even when you were, I hardly opened myself up to you.”

Nor to Will, she thought with chagrin. Nor to anybody.

“I didn't ask, either,” he reminded her, squeezing her hand gently.

“Nor would you have, you were too busy stammering,” she teased him.

“And now look at you,” he said. “I worry that to love me at all will compromise you.”

“I worry for that, too,” she said - she had already acknowledged that. “But in the end I would rather have you than this title. I bought it at a steep price, but that does not make it sweeter.”

He kissed her- chastely, softly- in gratitude.

“I suppose that if so many women can survive concubinage, it's only fair that I endure it,” he said, with a light touch of self-deprecating laughter.

She entwined their fingers.

“Perhaps I can entice you to finish my hair now,” she said with a resigned smile. “As little like it used to be as it is.”

“I would be happy to. Turn around, then-”

“I believe I said that to you recently,” she said with a smirk, though she did so.

“It's probably a boon to us both that you're not a man,” James said dryly as he began unraveling her braid.

“How’s that?”

“‘Any port’s as good as another in a storm’, or so they say.”

“Isn’t that a positive thing, then?”

“I don't know. Do you recall that term Barbossa suggested for a male mistress some time ago? I took the liberty of looking it up, and I think we allowed an insult to slide by us both unchallenged.”

“Which one?”

“Cicisbeo,” said James, though he didn't manage to pronounce it particularly accurately.

“I don’t speak continent, what is it?”

“In theory, a woman's lover. In practice,” he grumbled, “usually a paid invert.”

Elizabeth brightened at that. “Maybe that’s what he thinks you are,” she said, sounding entirely too pleased with the notion. “Now that would be a piece of luck-”

“How-”

“He might not believe that I am thinking with my parts,” said Elizabeth primly.

“Or that you are, and I'm joylessly taking advantage of them-“

“Oh, that’s much less pleasant. Can’t he think you enjoy it a little? Perhaps turned around?”

“Oh, I’m certain he thinks I’m enjoying that,” he said, a little grimly. “Which is not to say I am not, but- look, I feel you must understand what I’m saying. I fear they think I am taking you for a fool.”

“Would you like the Gloriana.”

“I don’t want to be apart from you often enough to act as her captain.”

“Then we suffer the risk. But honestly, I do not think I am in your company in public often enough to lend to that impression.”

“Thank heavens you didn't cut your hair. I can only imagine what they would think. Probably that I had coerced you into playing at being a boy for my sake-”

“I somewhat doubt it.”

“One can only hope,” he said grimly. “My God, to be out of this place and fighting for you- I’m growing restless.”

Elizabeth wanted that too - she did. But the reality of fighting and who they would be fighting against felt more than she could handle - right now she was no king, only Elizabeth, orphaned and on the run, feeling as frail and damaged as the split ends of her hair. She stared hollowly into the distance and repeated numbly, “Restless, yes.”

It all seemed a hopeless dream tonight, destined to end in tragedy and humiliation. The end of a noose for her, a firing squad for James. She wondered which of them Beckett would force to watch the other’s execution. James, watching hers, she thought, and he’d get in a good jab about how James ought to have impregnated her, to offer her a stay of execution; or was he incapable? She gently shook her head.

“I don’t know how much longer I shall be the Pirate King, especially if your presentiments are accurate,” she murmured. “We’ll still have the Empress, and the heart of Davy Jones.”

There was that still - but it was not Jones she feared. It never fully had been, even after witnessing the dreadful eldritch power of the Kraken.

“Do you really think you are supposed to have that much influence over me?”

“I don't know,” he said. “I know that none of these men save a handful of mine and the children hold me in much regard, and that’s quite aside from my history.”

He set the brush down and kissed the mass of her hair once more for good measure.

“Or perhaps it is, but not the part of it with Beckett. They find my downfall endlessly entertaining.”

Elizabeth turned and wrapped an arm around the back of his neck, pulling herself closer to him, touching his lips with the fingers of her other hand.

“Do shut up.”

“I worry only for how it reflects on you,” he pointed out. “I know I’ve no dignity to these people. What do you suppose they think of your stooping to me?”

“To be honest, I think they think I’m using you, if they think of it at all. That’s what powerful men do with women, they use them up. I think I come off more the man in this situation - isn’t that what you mean by no dignity?”

“I meant more specifically the spectacle of having seen me losing teeth and drinking myself sick in the gutters of Tortuga,” he said, “to say nothing of my efforts to ensure I remained drunk. Had I not fallen from so great a height, they would not rejoice so in my descent.”

She slid a little higher up on his lap, closer.

“But they can see I want you. And surely they can also see why. Regardless of your collapse, I don’t think I am seen as stooping at all.”

“Kiss me gently, then,” he said, half-deadly serious and half self-deprecation. “I suspect another tooth was doomed in the brawl with Turner.”

Elizabeth kissed him very gently, and slowly guided him to his back against the pillow, while she remained astride him.

“If you lose a tooth,” she could not help but say eventually, “can I have it?”

He stared at her.

“What? Why?”

“You wanted my hair, I would like your tooth - if it falls out. Don’t try to pull it out or something.”

“I may have to, if it continues paining me as it is. Yes, you may have it,” he said, sounding resigned. “You don't need to sacrifice your hair for my sake, though-”

“I can part with a lock,” she snorted, leaning down to kiss him again.

“Let us hope that I needn’t part with more than one tooth in return,” he said, more than a little bitterly. “Hair grows back.”

Despite the gloominess of his voice, he chose to emphasize this by letting her brittle hair gently spill through his fingers. He twisted a lock of it around one of them, and lifted it to show her. The damage only began in earnest a decent distance down the strand, a little past her jaw, where her hair was long enough to toss about in the wind and grow salty. Before that point, it was less blonde, but it was also encouragingly smooth and a light burnished brown.

“Serves you right for brawling; I hope Will loses one too,” she said, not particularly kindly, in this case her good mood from the realization of the fact that they had brought some punishment on themselves and she had even less cause to play the disapproving authority figure with him. “It’s a pity you like the blond so much,” she observed. “That seems to be the matter.”

“It's all quite sun-streaked,” James admitted. “I did not realize until today that it was quite so fragile.”

“What’s the word for that? Is that a - is it metaphor?”

“It could certainly count as one,” he conceded. “I suppose I was comparing it to my own. Even at its worst- which you have seen- it never turned quite so pale.”

“Yours is darker than mine,” she shrugged off.

“I do like the blonde,” he admitted, “but I don't think I shall mourn it as I thought when it grows out, after seeing your unhappiness.”

“James, I am fine.”

“Elizabeth, if I spoke as you did about myself in any regard, you would try to threaten me into a better opinion.”

“I am your mistress,” she argued; “I may speak in ways you may not, is that not so?”

James gave her a profoundly unconvinced look from under his eyebrows.

“You were speaking of tearing your hair out. You'll have to pardon me for taking that as a kind of self-aggression.”

“I was not! I said I thought I’d tear it if I tried to brush it. I was in an ungentle mood.”

“Sometimes,” said James, “I feel as though in your haste to remind me of how much you need me, you forget that I need you as well.”

“Is this about my mood?” asked Elizabeth obliviously. “I admit it is not great, but it’s improved-”

“I apologise for my mistake,” James said, a little louder, and in a very even, cautious voice that did not entirely mask his frustration, “but I had reason to believe you would hurt yourself. I hope that, at the very least, you will permit me my concern.”

“Oh!” said Elizabeth, looking troubled. “Did it - did it seem so serious?”

“It was a degree of agitation I had not previously seen from you,” James said, as diplomatically as possible.

“I agitate infrequently,” she agreed, and lay down gently on top of him.

“At the rate you were going, I half-feared you would cut it off in a fit of pique-”

He stopped himself, blinked, and then immediately added, with a warning gesture, “Don't you say a word. I wasn't furious at the moment, it was a perfectly considered choice-”

“I never doubted it,” she laughed. “You look all the better for it - your judgment is impeccable.”

She kissed his newly-trimmed beard.

“Mm- you might as well enjoy it before I'm down a tooth,” he said, a little grimly. “Growing prettier by the hour around here, we are-”

“Is it visible when you smile? The tooth you’re going to - lose I mean-” she asked between kisses.

“I believe so, yes. The obvious solution is not to smile-“

“Oh, don’t you dare-”

“I’m trying to convince myself that it could be far worse, but I can’t say I’m enjoying the prospect,” he grumbled. “I had rather hoped that any marks this left on me would come from you.”

Elizabeth nipped him on the ear.

“Like that-?”

“It’s a start-“

“Mm, what more can I do for you?”

“I’ll let you have the damned earring,” he relented. “Dangling, if it should please you.”

“Do you know what I love,” Elizabeth murmured into his ear, continuing to tease his hair and press kisses along his throat. “I love that I do not have to talk about things at all for you to you lie here and think of them anyway and then you acquiesce just because it is weighing on your soul that you did not already.”

“That's- I don't do that,” he scoffed, a little too automatically.

“Oh, don’t you?”

Elizabeth’s hand crept up his thigh.

“No, I don't think I- I don't-”

“I think you do,” said Elizabeth, toying with his waistband. “I think it sincerely pains you to withhold anything from me.”

“I had a thought earlier-” he blurted.

“Let’s have it.”

“When you meant to promote me- I nearly suggested that- you should mark me as your own, as so many of them have been marked as pirates because of me-”

“With what-”

“I don't know- a knife, probably-”

“That sounds messy,” she said dubiously.

“I would rather that than a mandatory public humiliation,” he countered.

“Which was already discarded as an idea, yeah,” said Elizabeth, stubborn and somewhat injured that he would throw that back in her face.

“I know- oh, no, darling, I didn't forget-”

“Well, now that a mandatory public humiliation is off the table, you needn’t stress yourself pressing for a mutilation in its place. James, this is really unsatisfactory pillow talk.”

“It's not terribly different from having a sweetheart's name tattooed, is it not?”

“Then do that instead?”

“There are too many Elizabeths in the world,” he retorted, “and frankly I have seen too many tattoos sloughed off, which I will not describe. And darling-”

“Swann,” she insisted. “I think it should be Swann.”

James smiled- mouth resolutely closed, but nonetheless.

“A sort of crest-”

“I wanted to get a tattoo, of a swan flying,” she admitted wistfully. “Through gates, perhaps. I don’t imagine it will look like anything but arrogance to most people -”

“...we’ll share it, then,” he said, immediately understanding. “For him.”

She smiled. “I would like that, if - you would.” She hesitated. “If you think it’s wise - sloughing, really?”

“...yes,” he said. “But I’m certain if the needle were heated each pass, it might not end so badly.”

“Well,” she said doubtfully. “When we are successful and have the money to have it done properly - then I say we will.”

“I would consider that a great honor,” he said as he tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear.

She rolled her eyes, but it was a poor concealment of her smile.

“It is a pity you can't do it yourself,” James admitted.

Elizabeth laughed, but it did not fail to cover her surprise. “James,” she said incredulously.

“I trust you more than most. Certainly more than I trust that lot out there-”

“My drawing was never that good,” she said, mollified. “Anyway, we’ll go to someone proper when we do it, what do you take me for? If you’re going to get tattooed you ought to get someone good.”

“I know,” he said. “Though I do enjoy the thought of looking at something and knowing it was your hand that placed it.”

“I’ll pierce your ear tomorrow,” she said decisively. “I know there is some instrument for it at the Claire’s.”

Despite everything, this still took him by such surprise that his mouth went slack.

“I- all right. As you wish.”

“James,” she said, now exasperated.

“I didn't say no-”

“It’s your ear, if you don’t want it then it won’t be done-”

“It is difficult, at times, to adjust to how quickly all of this has happened,” he admitted. “I don't wish it otherwise, but there are moments when I struggle to recognize my own reflection. That's all.”

“Yes, I suppose the loss of that wig is aggrieving,” she snorted, before recalling that James had been in that uniform since he was a child. To her credit, she looked remorseful before he had to say anything. “I’m sorry. I forget sometimes you have actually lost something.”

“Truth be told, I’m not yet quite used to having to think about any of this. I feel as though I’m fumbling through it, blindfolded and leaning on your arm.”

“Well, truth be told, I don’t feel any differently,” she challenged him.

“...I meant rather specifically physically,” he said awkwardly. “I live in hope of that solving everything from the outside in.”

“I wish,” she said bitterly, and then hesitated, before plunging forward with more apology in her voice than any other sentiment, “I wish after all of the years you spent waiting for me, you were happier to have me.”

“Having you is the part of this I am most pleased by,” James insisted.

“It seems to be no compensation,” said Elizabeth with a dissatisfied, crooked smile.

“I always imagined that I would be to some degree providing for you,” James admitted. “It seems an injustice that I am not able to.”

Elizabeth met his eyes, about to make out his insecurity and his tender regard for her even in the soft, dimmed lighting provided by the glow of a bedside lamp - it seemed foolish to think of it as their bedside lamp, when they would be here for so short a while. She felt again the breach between them - she would not have even thought of this as a factor to influence his feelings about their relationship - and the uncomfortable stab of guilt she felt knowing this was something positive to her, but a hardship for him. She wondered if their relationship would survive it, or end as hers and Will’s had. James wanted her love to be as pure and reckless as it had been when she had given it to Will Turner, but she knew she could never love like that again.

“I did not want you to provide for me,” she said softly. “What you wanted with me before… those things were the reasons I did not love you.”

She spoke like she knew it would hurt, and she was sorry.

“I would still feel… better, perhaps, with the knowledge of being able to reciprocate your protection-”

“You protect me,” she whispered, pressing his hand over her heart.

“Not as well as I would like,” he said, with a sad smile.

“As well as I require, then.”

“Mm. I hope I can do better by you sooner rather than later.”

“I don’t want the prestige or the income of a commodore in the Royal Navy,” said Elizabeth gently, bringing his hand to her lips now. “James Norrington. I just want you.”

James closed his eyes with a flinch, but they stayed shut even as his brows unknit themselves and his face relaxed. He slowly unfurled his kissed fingers and turned them to touch her cheek, rounding under her chin. He took a deep breath and exhaled just as slowly, and then opened his eyes again.

He smiled, only briefly forgetting to keep his mouth closed to hide his swollen gums and loose tooth, and kissed her.

Elizabeth straddled him for better leverage, but did not escalate things, beyond holding him snugly to her, sliding her fingers back and forth through his hair. At this length, to glide her fingers through it took a luxuriously long while, and it still curled, too.

“I really like this,” she broke the kiss to whisper to him, with a little laugh as though at her absurdity.

“Oh,” he said, a little breathlessly. “Oh, good. Thank you.”

“I’ve liked it growing out,” of course she had, “and I liked it long, too, when we first arrived here, but I think this-”

She had to pause and catch herself, following her hand as she tucked hair behind his ear and glided down his jawline. She was not wholly unaware of what she did; she distracted herself deliberately and let him see it. It was indeed merely a reflection of what he did sometimes with her; she knew how that made her feel, and wanted him to know she felt the same.

“- you’ve certainly found a length that suits you… Though it is not wholly even in the back; I can trim that, if you like.”

“Is it? I made something of an effort to avoid dwelling on that. I’ll let you.”

“I doubt anyone but me will ever notice, so if you don’t care, I won’t endeavor to.”

“Oh, you cannot tempt me with the idea of a little reciprocal doting and then take it away-”

“To be very frank, it is now a rather late hour, and there are better things I’d like to dote on…”

“Of course. I’m in no rush…”

She resumed the kiss.

“Mm- be gentle, love-” he admonished her, with a bright laugh.

“Your poor teeth,” she responded with a laugh of her own, and teased him with her tongue.

“If you push it out while we’re kissing, I shall have to leave the country-”

“I don’t know what country we’re in. I declare it my country, and you are not allowed to leave it,” she murmured, pushing him onto his back again.

“Be gentle, then,” he repeated, though in a softer murmur now, as he reached up to tuck her hair back.

“Does my love satisfy you?” Elizabeth whispered to him through a veil of kisses. “The way that I love. Is it going to be enough?”

“Mm- more than that. You overwhelm me sometimes, sweetheart-”

“I mean we sort of want different things. I just want to know if you think it’s going to be enough in spite of that...”

Her fingers traced over his cheek with longing. To be with someone and still not know if they were there was a new kind of agony for her.

James gazed guilelessly up from the pillow at her.

“You have always been enough, Elizabeth.”

She smiled at him, but there was still pain in it.

“Well, then,” she said, and kissed him into submission.

#potcsuggestions #pl: h34v3nlie måll #ch: firing squad #ch: her majesty if you're nasty #norribeth #long post

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