#because 'his daughter is destroying herself' and 'this stuff tears families apart' | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

tabloidtoc · 3 years

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National Enquirer, November 30

You can buy a copy of this issue for your very own at my eBay store: https://www.ebay.com/str/bradentonbooks

Cover: The Kennedy family torn apart

Page 2: Angry and isolated Caitlyn Jenner is on a downward emotional spiral that some friends believe have left her one step from the psycho ward -- she feels shunned by her own family and can’t find romance and is unhappy with with her looks -- Caitlyn is so tense and insecure and sensitive about everything so she’s diving into more and more prospective projects in a desperate effort to kickstart her flagging career and she’s flying off the handle all the time plus she’s tried to drown her sorrows in a new round of cosmetic improvements including a face-lift and lipo to trim her waist and thighs but she’s horrified she’s still not happy with her looks after all her surgeries

Page 3: Lovestruck Halle Berry has leapt headfirst into a red-hot romance with Van Hunt but the singer is a skirt-chasing cheat -- Van and his ex-wife split in 2007 after she said he abandoned her and their only child to move to L.A. and she claimed the musician admitted adultery shortly before divorce documents were filed -- Halle would be disturbed to hear that Van walked out on his son because she’s a very family-oriented person and she could never imagine living on the other side of the country to her kids -- Van’s grown and matured since the divorce and is sure to have shared all about his situation with Halle and he’s said to be on good terms with his ex-wife but people say once a cheater always a cheater and that’s got to be at the back of Halle’s mind

Page 4: Runaway Prince Harry is reeling after being publicly snubbed by his royal relatives and now he is having second thoughts about ditching his official duties for a glam life in Hollywood; he’s finally realizing just what he gave up when he left England with wife Meghan Markle and their son Archie and he’s wondering if it was worth it -- the simmering rift between Harry and the royals exploded after they refused his request to be part of Britain’s Remembrance Day ceremonies to honor fallen soldiers so Harry retaliated by staging a photo op at Los Angeles National Cemetery with Meghan with his military medals pinned on his navy suit; Harry was banned from wearing his military uniform when he quit royal duties and he also had to give up his military duties which devastated him -- photos from the cemetery released by the couple triggered an immediate backlash and they were accused of being shameless publicity-seekers trying to steal headlines and overshadow the royals doing their duty back home; it was a disaster and Harry was shocked -- he’s reaching out to the palace to make amends but calls to his brother Prince William and father Prince Charles have gone unanswered

* Katie Holmes and Emilio Vitolo Jr.’s hot new romance is in a pressure cooker as their families fight to claim the couple as their guests for the holidays -- things were going great for them but this tug-of-war may tear them apart because Emilio’s folks told him they want him home with them but Katie is desperate to spend Christmas with her relatives in Ohio and they really want to meet her new boyfriend and Katie is feeling guilty because she spends so much time with Emilio’s clan at his dad’s Manhattan eatery so she thinks it’s only fair that he does this for her but Emilio’s never missed a holiday gathering with his own family and there are a lot of them he hasn’t seen because of the pandemic

Page 5: Celine Dion is finally ready to put the past behind her as the fifth anniversary of her beloved husband’s death approaches in January and she is planning to leave Las Vegas with their sons and she is pining to return to her native Quebec and give twins Nelson and Eddy and 19-year-old Rene-Charles a taste of her own childhood -- Celine had been careful to not upset her kids’ lives since the death of their dad from throat cancer but she now believes the boys would benefit from spending time in The Great White North -- she also thinks it might be more likely she’ll find lasting love in her home country

Page 6: Defiantly plump Lizzo has ditched her diet and frightened friends are staging an intervention to get her to a fat farm to save her life -- Lizzo had committed to eating vegan after weighing in at 350 pounds but once on vacation it lasted like two days before she couldn’t take it any longer -- she has anxiety issues and uses food to comfort herself but the stress the weight is putting on her heart and other organs could have a detrimental effect on her health and cut her life short

Page 7: Mark Harmon and Pauley Perrette have agreed to meet for peace talks after a long-simmering feud triggered her angry departure from NCIS and Mark reached out to her to invite her back -- Mark feels bad about how Pauley left the show and knows she played a big role in its success and he’s anxious to set things right between them and bring back one of the show’s favorite all-time characters for fans -- Mark also feels he’s been painted unfairly in Pauley’s departure and would like to know he was not behind it but the two clashed for years with Pauley charging Mark’s bullying caused her to quit the show and Pauley even tweeted she is terrified of Harmon and him attacking her -- while Pauley is not saying yes or no to returning to the show she’s definitely willing to sit down and talk

* The drama between sickly Phil Collins and his squatting ex-wife Orianne Cevey is really getting down and dirty with Orianne charging that Phil degenerated into a pill-popping addict who stopped showering and brushing his teeth and was impotent and she also claimed Phil became emotionally and verbally abusive and refused to provide emotional support or love or care for her -- Phil’s lawyers said Orianne’s charges are scandalous and scurrilous and unethical and for the most part patently false or grossly exaggerated

Page 8: Power-hungry host Savannah Guthrie is gunning to be the reigning queen of Today and is willing to walk over anyone to achieve her goal and her blind ambition is ripping the once-invincible morning show apart and she even used Al Roker’s prostate cancer diagnosis to push her own agenda and capitalize on Al’s absence for surgery to demand more airtime for herself -- every meeting starts with the focus on whatever Savannah wants and the staff is far from happy about it and morale has never been worse -- Savannah has constantly pushed the producers for Jenna Bush Hager and herself to take the lead on big news stories and keep Hoda Kotb stuck in the fluffy stuff and Hoda’s completely pissed off -- Savannah’s rising star has come with temper tantrums and diva-like demands -- fed-up Hoda recently met with friends of Gayle King and there is speculation the two women could make a powerful pairing and revitalize third-place CBS This Morning

Page 9: Regis Philbin’s death certificate reveals paramedics waged a desperate 40-minute battle to try to save his life -- he suffered a heart attack just after 3 a.m. on July 24 at his home in Connecticut and he was rushed to the emergency room where medics fought to save his life but he eventually succumbed at 4:18 a.m.

Page 10: Hot Shots -- Queen Latifah on the NYC set of The Equalizer, socially distant host Ellen DeGeneres went the extra mile to greet guest Jimmy Kimmel on her talk show, Steve Schirripa and Bridget Moynahan shot Blue Bloods in NYC, Kristen Taekman prettied up her pout in L.A., Tracy Morgan attended the ribbon-cutting ceremony for a new community center at Brooklyn’s Marcy Houses

Page 11: Smitten ‘70s TV stars Patrick Duffy and Linda Purl may owe their late-in-life romance to Zoom but according to the actress the couple didn’t rush their relationship -- the two have been friends for decades but a COVID-19 group video chat helped spark love during lockdown -- after one of their lengthy one-on-one conversations Patrick jumped into his car and drove 20 hours from L.A. to her Colorado home like a lovestruck teenager

* Beloved Jeopardy! host Alex Trebek left behind a final touching message for his fans and it will be extremely moving -- Alex’s final message will follow his last episode of Jeopardy! set to air on Christmas Day

Page 12: Straight Shuter -- Joel Michaely at the opening of The Comeback Trail (picture)

* Kelly Clarkson’s divorce meant she booted ex Brandon Blackstock out of her professional life but he’ll still be in her work life thanks to Blake Shelton -- Brandon might not be Kelly’s manager anymore but he still manages Blake which might get awkward when Kelly runs into him backstage at The Voice

* Keeping Up with the Kardashians is notching all-time low ratings and the family is blaming Kim Kardashian saying she’s lost her sense of humor and she’s too busy trying to be taken seriously

* Nitpicky Ryan Seacrest has ditched celebrity designer Nate Berkus’ husband Jeremiah Brent as his decorator because they had a nasty falling out over the renovation of Ryan’s townhouse in New York City

Page 13: Steve Harvey’s daughter Lori Harvey escaped jail time after cops claimed she fled the scene of a Beverly Hills car crash in 2019 -- she was charged with two misdemeanors for hit-and-run and delaying a police investigation after she walked away from a smashup that damaged her Mercedes G-wagon and nearly destroyed another vehicle but she cut a deal with prosecutors and pleaded no contest to resisting arrest and will serve two years probation -- she reportedly had been texting at the time of the accident

* Reba McEntire confirmed she turned down a regular role on The Voice which left the life-changing gig open for Blake Shelton -- Reba said she didn’t think she could ever tell somebody that they’re terrible

* Cancer warrior Olivia Newton-John revealed she kicked a dependence on morphine with medical marijuana -- to cope with her pain during her third bout with breast cancer that had spread in 2017 doctors put her on mega doses of the highly addictive drug and she weaned herself off the morphine with the cannabis which she thinks is incredible and says people should know that because you’re not going to die from cannabis and you can use it to wean off morphine and she’s continued on a regime with cannabis ever since

Page 14: Crime

Page 15: Los Angeles’ newly elected District Attorney George Gascon has vowed to reopen the probe into actress Natalie Wood’s mysterious drowning and her husband Robert Wagner could finally be dragged before a grand jury -- Gascon said he’ll work with investigators from the L.A. Sheriff’s Department homicide squad to reexamine the case after the previous D.A. refused to present evidence to a grand jury -- Natalie drowned in 1981 while enjoying a holiday with Robert and actor Christopher Walken off Catalina Island

Page 16: The Talk has been thrown into chaos by cast shake-ups and co-host Sharon Osbourne’s power grab and may be on the verge of being silenced forever -- staffers are expecting the worst after popular co-host Eve announced she was splitting after four seasons becoming the latest in a long line of damaging departures and while Eve blamed her exit on COVID-19 travel restrictions from England much of the blame goes to self-promotional Sharon’s relentless efforts to take over the show after former moderator Julie Chen’s departure last year -- Sharon has made it clear she’s in charge now and the other ladies are not thrilled with being reduced to supporting cast and fans have started calling for Sharon’s head

Page 17: John Lennon’s widow Yoko Ono has sparked fears she’s nearing the end after handing her business dealings off to their son Sean Lennon -- the wheelchair-bound Yoko had been managing the late Beatle’s vast $800 million holdings since his 1980 shooting death but it’s now beyond her abilities

Page 18: American Life

Page 19: Johnny Depp is writing and planning to star in a tell-all movie about his divorce war with loathed ex-wife Amber Heard -- after a U.K. court ruled he was physically abusive toward Amber during their marriage Johnny wants to tell the world his version of the marriage and he will set people straight about what happened and clear his name to millions to fans and he believes this is a slam dunk once he gets it in front of the right producer especially as he’s more than willing to play himself

* The family of vicious Boston mobster James “Whitey” Bulger has filed a lawsuit against the federal government accusing prison officials of orchestrating the 2018 hit on the Mob boss -- the action accuses the Federal Bureau of Prisons of intentional or deliberately indifferent deeds that led to the murder of the wheelchair-bound mobster just hours after he was inexplicably transferred to the Hazelton penitentiary in West Virginia where he was beaten to death by prisoners to keep him from singing about corruption inside the FBI and the Department of Justice -- Whitey was bludgeoned with a padlock stuffed inside a sock and his murderers had enough time to cut out his tongue and eyes to make it seem like a classic Mafia hit

Page 20: Angelina Jolie lives in constant fear one of her six children will be kidnapped and held for ransom according to her former bodyguard -- Angie and her ex Brad Pitt are worth hundreds of millions which Angie feared provided plenty of incentive for criminals to target her offspring

* Hollywood Hookups -- Sofia Richie and Matthew Morton dating, Sabrina Parr and Lamar Odom split, Daniela Rajic and Paul George engaged

Page 21: Justin Bieber’s pastor Carl Lentz lost his job over a steamy affair with an exotic beauty -- Lentz was fired from the megachurch Hillsong and his mistress claimed the two were in love

* Wildlife lover Bindi Irwin has announced 20 weeks into pregnancy her baby is the size of a tiny emu -- she delivered the news flash beneath a photo with her husband Chandler Powell appropriately taken at the Australia Zoo

* Hugh Grant made a bizarre confession admitting his bout with COVID-19 left him wanting to sniff strangers’ armpits -- Hugh revealed he tested positive for coronavirus antibodies and believes he contracted the bug in February and the illness caused a feeling of an enormous man sitting on his chest but Hugh also claimed he was rattled by losing his sense of smell which is a known symptom of the disease and purposely sought out putrid odors to test his useless nose

Page 22: Jailed Ghislaine Maxwell’s latest devastating court defeat has heightened fears that the woman accused of being billionaire sex fiend Jeffrey Epstein’s madam will die behind bars just as he did -- since July Maxwell has been locked up in solitary confinement at Brooklyn’s Metropolitan Detention Center where her jailers subject her to daily strip and cell searches and is monitored 24 hours a day she doesn’t suffer the same fate as Epstein whose death was officially ruled a suicide -- now the U.S. Court of Appeals has denied her bid to publicly name the women who have come forward in the media and civil actions as Epstein’s alleged victims and implicated the British socialite in his twisted sex ring so the damning decision upheld an earlier ruling and shattered her defense team’s bid to investigate and refute the claims of the unnamed accusers

Page 23: Tom Cruise’s plan to shoot the first movie in space may be in jeopardy after Russia vowed to beat him to it -- Tom has teamed with tech billionaire Elon Musk’s SpaceX program to film the unnamed project on the International Space Station in October 2021 -- but a rival Russian agency plans to already be in outer space by then and the Russian film is titled Challenge and its team has sent out a casting call for a female lead -- Tom sees this as a gauntlet being thrown down and he always rises to the challenge and he’s told SpaceX they have to get up there before next October

Page 28: Cover Story -- Kennedy curse rips clan apart -- the family takes sides as Michael Skakel skates and William Kennedy Smith stalls $50 million will

Page 32: Ric Ocasek’s oldest son has blasted him as a deadbeat dad who was never there -- Chris Otcasek who uses the original spelling of the family name wrote on Instagram that his father in essence died the day he was born and he was never present and he was never there -- Ric left his mom who was his second wife Suzanne while she was pregnant with their second child

* Lisa Marie Presley has had a medical emergency so severe it brought her bitter custody trial with fourth ex-husband Michael Lockwood to a halt

Page 36: Health, Ask the Vet

Page 38: Pope John Paul II was aware that disgraced and defrocked Cardinal Theodore McCarrick was a pedophile but elevated him anyway to the powerful post of Archbishop of Washington D.C. in 2001 -- McCarrick had showered over $600,000 in donations on powerful clerics including Pope John Paul II and Pope Benedict while facing allegations of abuse -- Pope Francis finally defrocked McCarrick in 2019

Page 42: Red Carpet -- Mandy Moore

Page 45: Spot the Differences -- Emma Corrin as Princess Diana in The Crown

Page 47: Odd List

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coffeebased · 4 years

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Hey! Wikathon na! I’ve started reading Relocations by Karen Tongson, about a third through now, but I had to take a little detour through Harrow the Ninth by Tamsyn Muir like I said I would. I’ve finished reading HtN but I’m not quite done experiencing it, so I’ll probably pick Relocations back up tomorrow.

But here’s what I read in July! What’s a segue?

1. Haikyu!! Volume 44 and 45 by Haruichi Furudate

A chance event triggered Shouyou Hinata’s love for volleyball. His club had no members, but somehow persevered and finally made it into its very first and final regular match of middle school, where it was steamrolled by Tobio Kageyama, a superstar player known as “King of the Court.”

Vowing revenge, Hinata applied to the Karasuno High School volleyball club… only to come face-to-face with his hated rival, Kageyama!

And with those two volumes, Haikyū has ended. I’m really glad that my cousin got me to catch up to the series because being a part of the sheer joy and love that’s poured out the fandom these past few months has been refreshing to my spirit. I enjoyed the way Furudate brought the series to its conclusion, by giving all the characters a future and room to grow. I hope to hear more from him in the upcoming years.

2. Looking for Group by Alexis Hall

I read Looking for Group because I was reading up on Alexis Hall in anticipation of Boyfriend Material, which I will talk about later, and saw the synopsis:

So, yeah, I play Heroes of Legend, y’know, the MMO. I’m not like obsessed or addicted or anything. It’s just a game. Anyway, there was this girl in my guild who I really liked because she was funny and nerdy and a great healer. Of course, my mates thought it was hilarious I was into someone I’d met online. And they thought it was even more hilarious when she turned out to be a boy IRL. But the joke’s on them because I still really like him.

And now that we’re together, it’s going pretty well. Except sometimes I think Kit—that’s his name, sorry I didn’t mention that—spends way too much time in HoL. I know he has friends in the guild, but he has me now, and my friends, and everyone knows people you meet online aren’t real. I mean. Not Kit. Kit’s real. Obviously.

Oh, I’m Drew, by the way. This is sort of my story. About how I messed up some stuff and figured out some stuff. And fell in love and stuff.

And I knew that I had to read it. Immediately.

I enjoyed it way too much. The characters were adorable, the conflict was done well, the geeky gamer wrapper was AMAZING and the author never dropped the ball on integrating the online game into the narrative. It was very readable and I enjoyed the atmosphere of the book immensely. I also may have spent a heady week or so thinking of playing WoW, but I avoided that temptation. Made me miss uni too, and the way my friends and I would spend countless hours with each other.

3. Boyfriend Material by Alexis Hall

Wanted: One (fake) boyfriend Practically perfect in every way

Luc O’Donnell is tangentially–and reluctantly–famous. His rock star parents split when he was young, and the father he’s never met spent the next twenty years cruising in and out of rehab. Now that his dad’s making a comeback, Luc’s back in the public eye, and one compromising photo is enough to ruin everything.

To clean up his image, Luc has to find a nice, normal relationship…and Oliver Blackwood is as nice and normal as they come. He’s a barrister, an ethical vegetarian, and he’s never inspired a moment of scandal in his life. In other words: perfect boyfriend material. Unfortunately apart from being gay, single, and really, really in need of a date for a big event, Luc and Oliver have nothing in common. So they strike a deal to be publicity-friendly (fake) boyfriends until the dust has settled. Then they can go their separate ways and pretend it never happened.

But the thing about fake-dating is that it can feel a lot like real-dating. And that’s when you get used to someone. Start falling for them. Don’t ever want to let them go.

I came into this book with high expectations after Looking for Group, and my expectations were mostly met. The few issues I had were ultimately negligible, probably cultural differences or conventions of a genre that I’m not familiar with. The characters were strong, and I found the book funny. I know it sounds as though I’m damning it with faint praise, so I’ll say it plainly: it was an enjoyable read and I was totally invested in the romance. I think it’ll make a really good film as well.

4. The Subtweet by Vivek Shraya

Everyone talks about falling in love, but falling in friendship can be just as captivating. When Neela Devaki’s song is covered by internet-famous artist Rukmini, the two musicians meet and a transformative friendship begins. But as Rukmini’s star rises and Neela’s stagnates, jealousy and self-doubt creep in. With a single tweet, their friendship implodes, one career is destroyed, and the two women find themselves at the center of an internet firestorm.

Celebrated multidisciplinary artist Vivek Shraya’s second novel is a stirring examination of making art in the modern era, a love letter to brown women, an authentic glimpse into the music industry, and a nuanced exploration of the promise and peril of being seen.

If you’re a millennial and if you’ve ever had complicated friendships, this book will ring really true for most of it, I think. I kept wincing at the characters’ actions and “mistakes”, recognising them as things I or my friends have done, but there are portions of the story that I found inaccessible because Neela, the main character, just seems really opaque even when they’re the ones speaking. The music Shraya made as a companion to the book slaps and can be found here.

5. Empowered 11 by Adam Warren

Costumed crimefighter Empowered finds herself the desperate prey of a maniacal supervillain whose godlike powers have turned an entire city of suprahumans against her.

Not good! Outnumbered and under siege, aided only by a hero’s ghost, can Emp survive the relentless onslaught long enough to free her enslaved teammates and loved ones, or is this–*gulp*–The End?

From comics overlord Adam Warren comes Empowered, the acclaimed sexy superhero comedy–except when it isn’t, as in this volume’s no-nonsense, wall-to-wall brawl guaranteed to bring tears to the eye and fists to the face!

Warren’s tying up a lot of loose ends and answering a lot of questions and I’m wondering if that means Empowered‘s ending soon. I haven’t seen any info regarding this, even though the words “The End” are right there in the summary, because comic books always lean on the whole the hero could die! thing, and more often than not they never do. But Emp has come so far in the past 11 volumes, and I think that she’s ready to confront a lot of the stuff that Warren’s only hinted at in the past. Most of Empowered is about how Emp deals with failure and how she rises above it, and recently it’s become about how other people have failed her, rather than how she has failed, and how she deserves better. I’m worried about her, but at least we are another volume’s worth of evidence for the Emp/Thugboy/Ninjette OT3.

6. Sex and Vanity by Kevin Kwan

The iconic author of the bestselling phenomenon Crazy Rich Asians returns with a glittering tale of love and longing as a young woman finds herself torn between two worlds–the WASP establishment of her father’s family and George Zao, a man she is desperately trying to avoid falling in love with.

On her very first morning on the jewel-like island of Capri, Lucie Churchill sets eyes on George Zao and she instantly can’t stand him. She can’t stand it when he gallantly offers to trade hotel rooms with her so that she can have the view of the Tyrrhenian Sea, she can’t stand that he knows more about Curzio Malaparte than she does, and she really can’t stand it when he kisses her in the darkness of the ancient ruins of a Roman villa and they are caught by her snobbish, disapproving cousin, Charlotte. “Your mother is Chinese so it’s no surprise you’d be attracted to someone like him,” Charlotte teases. Daughter of an American-born-Chinese mother and blue-blooded New York father, Lucie has always sublimated the Asian side of herself in favor of the white side, and she adamantly denies having feelings for George. But several years later, when George unexpectedly appears in East Hampton where Lucie is weekending with her new fiancé, Lucie finds herself drawn to George again. Soon, Lucy is spinning a web of deceit that involves her family, her fiancé, the co-op board of her Fifth Avenue apartment, and ultimately herself as she tries mightily to deny George entry into her world–and her heart. Moving between summer playgrounds of privilege, peppered with decadent food and extravagant fashion, Sex and Vanity is a truly modern love story, a daring homage to A Room with a View, and a brilliantly funny comedy of manners set between two cultures.

This was the third romance novel I read in July, and that’s honestly the highest concentration of romance novel I’ve ever had in my life. I know that I’m supposed to find romance novels like super kilig and stuff, but so far I am just very anxious for romance novel protagonists all the time. I think that the whole thing about the romance novels I have read is that they’re mostly about how deeply anxious people learn how to allow themselves to be loved and that is tough! I wanted to protect Lucie all the time! I was Invested in her Welfare, and I don’t think I cared about Rachel Chu from Crazy Rich Asians half as much, even if you condensed all my attachment from the entire trilogy. Also, small spoiler, there is a hint that Sex and Vanity is in the same universe as Crazy Rich Asians, which I think is awesome.

6. Trust Exercise by Susan Choi

Pulitzer Finalist Susan Choi’s narrative-upending novel about what happens when a first love between high school students is interrupted by the attentions of a charismatic teacher

In an American suburb in the early 1980s, students at a highly competitive performing arts high school struggle and thrive in a rarified bubble, ambitiously pursuing music, movement, Shakespeare, and, particularly, their acting classes. When within this striving “Brotherhood of the Arts,” two freshmen, David and Sarah, fall headlong into love, their passion does not go unnoticed—or untoyed with—by anyone, especially not by their charismatic acting teacher, Mr. Kingsley.

The outside world of family life and economic status, of academic pressure and of their future adult lives, fails to penetrate this school’s walls—until it does, in a shocking spiral of events that catapults the action forward in time and flips the premise upside-down. What the reader believes to have happened to David and Sarah and their friends is not entirely true—though it’s not false, either. It takes until the book’s stunning coda for the final piece of the puzzle to fall into place—revealing truths that will resonate long after the final sentence.

As captivating and tender as it is surprising, Trust Exercise will incite heated conversations about fiction and truth, friendships and loyalties, and will leave readers with wiser understandings of the true capacities of adolescents and of the powers and responsibilities of adults.

This is a book I could not stop reading and I felt gross after I finished it. I think that I enjoyed it and that the narrative flips were well-done and it was engaging, but Choi writes teenage trauma in 3D, and you can smell her scumbag characters. Very good will never read again unless looking to feel bad.

Re-read:

Temeraire: His Majesty’s Dragon, Throne of Jade, Black Powder War, andEmpire of Ivory by Naomi Novik

Aerial combat brings a thrilling new dimension to the Napoleonic Wars as valiant warriors ride mighty fighting dragons, bred for size or speed. When HMS Reliant captures a French frigate and seizes the precious cargo, an unhatched dragon egg, fate sweeps Captain Will Laurence from his seafaring life into an uncertain future – and an unexpected kinship with a most extraordinary creature. Thrust into the rarified world of the Aerial Corps as master of the dragon Temeraire, he will face a crash course in the daring tactics of airborne battle. For as France’s own dragon-borne forces rally to breach British soil in Bonaparte’s boldest gambit, Laurence and Temeraire must soar into their own baptism of fire.

I started re-reading it because I wanted to introduce it to my girlfriend, and I outpaced her very quickly, and selfishly. She’s still at the beginning fourth of Throne of Jade, and I feel like I blinked and gulped down four of the books in quick succession. I had to stop myself after Empire, in a very belated effort to sync up to my gf’s progress. The series is amazing, and I don’t know if I’ll ever read one like Temeraire again. Being able to revisit it should be enough, really, because every time I do it’s as though I’m caught up in a strong and wonderful wind that fills me up with delight and awe. Novik’s starting a new series this September, and I hope it’s just as good.

That’s it for July! I’m probably going to do two books at a time for my Wikathon posts, just to keep things fresh and current, so keep a weather eye out for those posts!

July, next verse, same as the first Hey! Wikathon na! I've started reading Relocations by Karen Tongson, about a third through now, but I had to take a little detour through…

#books #books 2 #reading #reading 2

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lilacmoon83 · 4 years

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Clarity

Also on Fanfiction.net and A03

Chapter 4: Helpless

Mary Margaret trekked down into the ravine below the Toll bridge and spotted his roaring fire in the near distance.

"Hey...it's freezing out here. What are you doing?" he asked, as he rushed to her. Neither of them were aware of the eyes on them.

"That's why I'm here...you can't stay out here. Not tonight. It's already in the single digits," she replied. He smiled at her concern.

"I'll be fine," he promised.

"No David...I'm tired of this! I want you home with me," she cried.

"And I want that too, my darling...but Emma would never be comfortable with it and I don't want anything straining your relationship with her," he said. Tears filled her eyes.

"I went to Gold…" she confessed.

"Why?" he asked in a measured tone.

"I asked him if you could use his cabin for shelter," she replied.

"No," he refused.

"No deals or anything. He said you could use it free and clear," she said. He scoffed.

"Yeah right, the imp always wants something," he refuted.

"Well, I really don't care, because I'm not having you sleeping out in the cold anymore," she argued. But he shook his head.

"Not if it means coming between you and our...your best friend," he said, catching himself.

"But…I need you…" she said, as she broke down crying again. His heart broke too at that and he swept her into his arms.

"I know...I know...I need you too," he whispered, as he kissed her forehead.

"I need you so badly that it's killing me. Every moment without you is a slow, agonizing death," he told her.

"But it will get better...you know that," he promised.

"It's not supposed to be like this," she sobbed.

'I know," he agreed.

"We're supposed to be a family. We're supposed to be together, because we're in love...we're soulmates," she cried, as she sobbed against his chest. He felt helpless. Even awake and fully aware of everything, he still felt helpless. He had to give it to Regina. The curse was doing its job perfectly.

"I'm sorry...I'm so sorry…" he said, as he held her in his arms.

"Then you'll sleep in the cabin?" she asked, as she gave him her best sad puppy look and bit her bottom lip for ultimate effect. He sighed and shook his head.

"Will you sleep a wink if I don't?" he asked.

"Doubtful…" she replied. He sighed again.

"Okay...I'll do this for you. But if Gold comes back at you with some favor you owe him, then I'm gonna punch him in the face," he said. She grinned and threw her arms around him.

"You know...I could come back to the cabin with you," she tempted.

"You know I'd love nothing more, but I don't need more reasons for Emma to hate me," he replied, as she pouted. He smiled and kissed her lips passionately.

"We'll be together soon...I promise," he assured.

"It's getting dark...you should get home," he prodded sadly.

"That's hard to do when you're my home," she countered. She knew she was making this more difficult, but she couldn't help it. She just wanted to be with him so badly. He smiled and kissed her again.

"I love you…" he said.

"I love you too," she replied, as they shared another kiss and she reluctantly left him to go home to the loft.

~*~

Emma watched him for a few more minutes with scrutiny, observing his campsite. Had he really been living in the woods? She moved slightly and a twig snapped, catching his attention.

"Who's there?" he called defensively and she slowly moved out from behind the brush. He sighed and relaxed.

"Emma…" he said.

"Have you really been living out here?" she asked skeptically. He shrugged and went back to dousing the fire.

"It's not the first time I've been homeless," he replied, which surprised her.

"That's not in your file," she mentioned. He scoffed.

"There's a lot of things that aren't in that file," he retorted, as she approached him.

"How long have you been there?" he asked.

"Long enough to watch my best friend cry over you," she replied.

"Emma…I love her, more than my own life. I'd do anything for her," he said.

"And you," he said silently to himself.

"Then why won't you go home with her. That's what she wants," she replied.

"Because I won't do that if it means she loses her best friend over it," he said sternly. Emma was silent for the moment.

"You gonna go stay in the cabin for the night?" she asked.

"I promised Mary Margaret that I would and I will never do anything to hurt her ever again," he replied. She nodded.

"I have something for you...that's why I'm here," Emma said, as she handed him the envelope and he looked inside.

"Thanks," he said.

"Yeah...guess you're a free man now," she mentioned. He nodded and packed up the rest of his stuff.

"Thanks again," David said, as she watched him walk up the ridge and toward the cabin, before she turned and went home.

~*~

When she arrived home though, she sighed, as she observed her best friend curled up in a ball by the window with a pillow to her chest. And not her pillow. Definitely the other pillow on her bed, the one David had probably slept on.

"Oh Emma...I didn't hear you come in," Mary Margaret said, as she quickly wiped her tears away and got up.

"Okay...this is stupid. You're miserable," Emma complained.

"I'm fine," Mary Margaret sniffed, as she went to the kitchen.

"No...you're not. If you want David here...then he should be here. This is your house," Emma said.

"It's yours too," she insisted.

"Why does it matter so much to you that I approve of the guy you're sleeping with?" Emma questioned.

"Because you're my best friend! You matter to me more than you know!" Mary Margaret answered.

"Why?!" Emma snapped.

"Because I love you too, even if you refuse to believe it!" Mary Margaret snapped back. Tears filled Emma's eyes and they shared a fierce hug.

"Why are you and David so willing to be apart all of the sudden for me?" she questioned.

"I know it seems strange...but I promise you'll understand someday," Mary Margaret whispered, only confusing her more.

"That makes no sense, but I'm done with you two being all miserable and noble at the same time. Go get him," she insisted.

"Really?" Mary Margaret asked. The blonde nodded.

"Yes...you're just lucky I have noise cancelling headphones," Emma joked.

"You mean...if David was living here, you wouldn't leave?" Mary Margaret asked.

"I'm not leaving...go. I know you want to," Emma insisted. Mary Margaret smiled and got her coat.

"Just be careful," Emma pleaded.

"I'll be fine. Thanks Emma," Mary Margaret said, as she left the apartment and started toward her car.

~*~

An Hour Later

Emma laughed, as she watched a sitcom on TV, while enjoying a pint of Rocky Road when there was a knock on the door. She checked her watch and thought it was strange that Mary Margaret wasn't back yet, but it was possible she was still helping David pack up his stuff. She put the ice cream down on the coffee table and answered the door. She was stunned to find David there. Without Mary Margaret.

"Hey…" she said.

"Is Mary Margaret here?" he asked. Dread knotted in her stomach.

"No...she's supposed to be with you," Emma replied.

"She texted me that she was coming to tell me something, but she never showed up. I thought maybe she changed her mind, but she's not returning my texts," he said, clearly worried. Emma grabbed her coat.

"Stay here...I'm going to look for her," Emma said.

"No way...if she's in trouble, then I have to find her!" David exclaimed. Emma sighed.

"Fine...hope you can keep up then," Emma said.

"I think you'll be surprised at how well I can keep up," David retorted.

~*~

1 Hour Earlier

Snow was almost giddy, as she drove toward the Toll Bridge. However, she wasn't far from her apartment when she heard a clunk and the car died, as she pulled off to the side. She tried to start it, but it was dead and she got out. She knew next to nothing about cars, but opened the hood anyway, until she heard a twig snap. She looked up and all around her in the darkness.

"Hello?" she called, as she suddenly felt a prick on the back of her neck.

"Ouch…" she said, as she reached back there and was stunned to find a small dart.

"No…" she uttered, as she lost consciousness and fell to the cold ground. A figure approached and picked her up, throwing her petite form over his shoulder, before carrying her off.

When she awoke with a pounding headache, she opened her bleary eyes and found her hands were tied behind her back. Fear rippled through her, as she realized there was also a gag in her mouth. Her eyes widened, as Regina stood there with a man she did not recognize.

"Awake at last...though there was a time that I hoped you'd sleep forever," the Evil Queen commented, as she pulled the gag down.

"Let me go…" Snow hissed, with a glare at her step-mother.

"Not going to happen. You know, I didn't know if you were awake or not for sure until just now. Clearly, you've forgotten to put up your meek Mary Margaret act that you've been maintaining in public," Regina said.

"What are you going to do to me?" Snow demanded to know.

"First...you're going to drink this water," Regina said, as she held up a bottle.

"What's in it? Poison? Another curse?" Snow asked.

"No...that would be too quick and easy. No, it's a potion to make sure that you keep your real memories when Jefferson here takes you across the town line. I want you to remember how you're never going to see your husband...or your daughter again," Regina replied. Snow swallowed thickly and tried to keep herself from panicking.

"David will find me," she insisted. Regina smirked.

"I'd like to see him try in a city with more than eight million people," she hissed.

"Why? Why would you do this? You've already destroyed my daughter's life! Why would you destroy your son's too? He knows the truth!" Snow cried.

"He is my son...and he'll forget all about you soon enough," Regina growled, as Jefferson pulled her head back and Regina forced some of the water down her throat. Snow choked and screamed, before the gag was replaced between her teeth.

"Leave town as we planned...immediately," Regina ordered.

"And what exactly am I supposed to do with her?" Jefferson questioned.

"I told you...hold her at the apartment I got for you and then there will be someone coming for her," Regina replied.

"Who?" Jefferson asked.

"In my time in this land, I've discovered that there are people out there that know about us and they seemed very interested in having a live subject to study from our land. They'll pick her up and then I could care less what they do with her. In fact, I hope there's nothing but horror in your future," she hissed at her step-daughter.

"And then my daughter?" Jefferson asked impatiently.

"Yes, when you get back, you'll have your daughter as promised. With her memories returned," Regina promised, as the man hauled Snow to her feet and dragged her out to his car. Tears slipped down her cheeks uncontrollably, as they soon passed over the town line and she seriously wondered if she would ever see her husband or her daughter ever again…

#Snowing #SnowxCharming #Emma Swan #Henry Mills #Regina Mills #Mr. Gold #AU #romance #adventure #angst #drama #family #Clarity #A 7:15 AM AU

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adoranymph · 4 years

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That’s right! It’s been far too long, and I need to do another discussion of, what remains to this day, my #1 anime: Fate/Zero. Oh darling, how I’ve missed talking about you.

First off, I’m probably one of the few people on the planet who, for the most part, doesn’t take too much issue with the concept of prequels. I get why such stories are flawed and inherently so. Going into that kind of detail on something that was only mentioned in passing as a previous event in an original work can be detrimental to that work, punching in plot holes and whatnot. Plus, it takes away the mystery that some find more appealing about the “story before”: giving a detailed account of that takes away that mystery.

Speaking for me personally though, I kinda like it. I mean, I’m the kind of person who squees on the inside at stuff like Thranduil at the end of the third Hobbit film telling his son Legolas that he might want to look into finding a Dunedain ranger named “Strider”, a.k.a. Aragorn, son of Arathorn, a.k.a. the once and future king of Lord of the Rings, timeline consistency be damned! I love Easter Eggs in all their forms.

Which means perhaps I’m biased on this opinion, and to a degree, I am. But, I still think objectively as well as subjectively that Fate/Zero really does work well as a prequel.

Why?

A few reasons, but:

The short answer? It’s a tragedy.

In both the classical and the emotional gut-punching sense.

In the classical sense, we’re talking about actions that have consequences that are inevitable. In the emotional gut-punching sense, it’s that those consequences utterly destroy our heroes and heroines in their feels.

Anyone who’s experienced the original Fate/Stay Night, either in anime or visual novel form, or both, already knows that the consequences to many of the actions taken by the characters in Zero are inevitable. At the same time, for anyone who’s watching it before watching any of the other Fate material as a stepping off point for the franchise, it still works as a strong story of characters who sabotage their own goals through their own flaws, made tragic by how earnest they are in endeavoring to overcome them. Not to mention the sheer number of feels and brutal deaths and OMG this anime. (They didn’t give its original light novel writer, Gen Urobuchi, the sobriquet of “Urobutcher” for nothing.)

Sure, in the end, some plot threads are left frayed and fluttering in the breeze because the main Stay Night plot points are all set up here at Zero‘s conclusion (though that does produce the disadvantage of no longer making the story twists in Stay Night…well…twists). Despite that though, there is still a completeness to the ending.

Somehow the loose ends are written so they don’t feel loose. Sure we find out in the Heaven’s Feel route of Stay Night that Illya is Kiritsugu’s precious daughter that he was unable to save. Sure, in the Unlimited Blade Works route, Kirei gets his just-desserts for that little infraction of killing Rin’s father, Tokiomi Tohsaka. Sure, in the Fate route, the revelations that Saber was a gender-bent King Arthur and was Kiritsugu’s servant in the previous Grail War come to light.

And knowing those things, or lack thereof, can affect how you watch Zero. Knowing them can fill you with excitement when you see these addressed in the prequel (at least for me, since again, this is something I actually like about prequels). Not knowing them gives them their own fresh and engaging life in the flow of the narrative.

When watching Zero, we last see Illya waiting hopefully in the snowy Einzberns’ castle for her beloved father Kiritsugu to come back to her, only to learn that because he’d tried to destroy the Grail (because it’s corrupted), the Einzberns considered him a traitor and shut him out, preventing him from seeing her ever again.

We last see Rin at her father’s funeral. Kirei (who presided over that funeral no less) gives her the ceremonial dagger that her father himself had gifted to him for being his pupil in magic, only to immediately use it to literally stab him in the back. It’s only upon receiving the knife and learning that it was her father’s, that Rin finally allows herself to cry, Kirei secretly relishing her tears and the knowledge that he just gave her the weapon he’d used to murder her father as a present, and she’s none the wiser.

We see Sakura resigned to her fate as a future vessel for the Grail while carrying the weight of the Matou Family crestworms inside slowly killing her, despite her “uncle” Kariya Matou’s efforts to save her by winning the Grail for his wicked father. Efforts that were, for lack of better term, “ill-fated“.

We see Saber summoned at the conclusion of the first episode, with Kiritsugu believing that King Arthur was well a King, only to learn right off the bat that she was a woman in disguise the whole time (and that becomes a thing).

Regardless of knowing these things prior, the writing itself gives the scenes that are meant to allude to these later plot points a gravitas of their own worthy of praise. I am in a bit of a weird position where I started watching Fate/Stay Night (2006), which followed the first story route, the Fate route, with Saber (Arturia) as the heroine. Then I dropped it about a quarter of the way and bypassed straight to Zero. I was just too excited to wade through the lackluster production values of F/SN ’06. So I both knew and did not know things going into Zero. I had the opportunity to see certain things with a well-crafted setup in Zero, and still be engaged by both them and by things that were new to me in the sense that I wasn’t aware of their relevance not only to the Fate route, but to Unlimited Bladeworks, and Heaven’s Feel routes respectively.

Though I knew that it was going to come up that Kiritsugu was Saber Arturia’s Master in the Fourth War, I was still jarred by how frigid their relationship was pretty much from the word go. And it was interesting seeing someone as openly passionate about justice as Saber was getting stonewalled by someone like Kiritsugu, seeing as how his own passion for justice turned out to have been just as great. It’s just that he’s already let “reality” turn all that into a cold, calculating fire that’s compelling to watch burn so slowly, that struggle between that BBC Sherlockian sense of “Will caring about them [people] help save them?” and caring too much being the whole reason for what he does. That idea of wanting to bring the world salvation through an end to conflict, weighed movingly against how much he cares for his own family. It’s something that craftedly underpins his whole character. And anything like that will never be boring for me.

Rin meanwhile, even at a tender age, shows great potential as a mage, having started her education in magecraft in Zero. There’s an entire episode in there dedicated to how far she’s come and how far she still has to go. And it’s still exciting for those who already know that she’s going to be the capable Master of Archer in the Fifth Holy Grail War of Stay Night because of how well those parts showing such are executed in Zero, as equally exciting as it is to see it as someone going in blind.

Kariya Matou is motivated by the purest of things, love, to save Sakura Matou (formerly Tohsaka as Rin’s little sister) after she’s adopted into the Matou family simply to be used and abused in the worst ways. But for all that, it isn’t enough for him to succeed and failure is one of the most brutal things to watch.

Just about one of the most precious things I’ve seen in anything, never mind anime, is the scene of the walnut-finding game Kiritsugu and his daughter Illya would often play, because we see them play it one last time before Kiritsugu leaves for the Grail War at the beginning of the show. Even without being aware that this is the last time that they will ever see each other again, the hug goodbye that Kiritsugu gives Illya is still bittersweet because of how Kiritsugu’s character has been set up as this sober and reserved man carrying the heavy burden of his wife’s inevitable death, the cost for his wish to save the world, beautifully and poignantly juxtaposed against him acting playful, happy even, with their only child. (That, and well, there’s me who’s outed herself as a sucker for daddy-daughter relationships in fiction.)

Being a tragedy then, not only are all of the characters’ fates inevitable, and consequences of their own flaws, but they all end up spiraling apart into ultimate despair, with just the tiniest ray of hope at the end (which is the tease for Stay Night‘s continuation of the story, all three story routes accounted for). So what we’re left with is characters who either died broken, or survived broken, and for those who survived broken, we see that despite that, they find some reason to go on living (even if not for very much longer, and or even if not for the best of reasons). Just the same, it’s inspiring. Very Bluthian, actually. Despite all the trauma, it’s given worth of its own in that very last scene with Kiritsugu and his adopted son, Shirou, the protagonist of Stay Night, promising that things can be turned around for the better. That always gets me. From the very first time I watched it, I knew I had watched something incredible. An unduplicatable experience in the vein of finishing Harry Potter or Avatar: the Last Airbender.

It’s also something of a reset button where the anime adaptations of the Fate franchise are concerned. Somewhat ironically, the anime was produced so that the later adaptation of the Unlimited Blade Works and Heaven’s Feel story routes from the visual novel would work as sequels. Sequels to the prequel, as it were.

Then there’s the bottom line. It’s just a damn good show. Beautiful animation, beautiful music, beautiful character writing. Of all of the adaptations, it’s the one that works best as a standalone as probably Fate fans are ever going to get, given the nature of the source material. And with it being so good, it also has considerable rewatch value, which means that those “twists” that get “spoiled” are worth watching in the same regard that anything that has a known twist going in it is still worth watching.

And that…is why Fate/Zero actually works as a prequel.

Keeping this link up!

Why Fate/Zero Works As A Prequel That's right! It's been far too long, and I need to do another discussion of, what remains to this day, my #1…

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stoopsbookstore · 5 years

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Thirteen Princes Masterlist

Inspired by a post @dahyunmingyu made about Seungkwan being Mrs. Potts and Chan being Chip

Hello, reader. I'm the narrator, you may call me The Bookkeeper. I'm here to tell you the stories of 13 boys, all of whom I witnessed firsthand. I'll be by your side as you read about the story of each prince, no matter how twistedly heartbreaking, how teeth-melting fluffy, how virigious smutty or terrifying horrific it gets. I remember each story like it was yesterday. The thirteen princes of Pledis Kingdom are famous for being a tightly knit group, they're rarely seen in a group less than 4. Each prince has his own cut of the land and their families are known throughout the island for their synchronization when it comes to wars and battles. Each prince has his own story to tell, maybe a story never told, one you saw in a theatre or one you used to be read at night. You may be used to seeing the colorful images, hearing the vivid songs, but some may be more, how you say, dramatic or violent. The thirteen princes are eager to tell their stories and here's where you begin.

Fluff - 🧁

Angst - 🙁

Smut - 😳

Horror - 👻

Seungcheol (Robin Hood)

The eldest prince has a secret, he's the vigilante the resident head of knights is after. He's been taking a small portion of the goods and money that had been seized by the knights and giving it back to the poor, the children and the ones who struggle from time to time. To hoard this gold and not help the village pissed him off. When he starts to fall for a maiden, he's torn between his feelings and her safety. A smut/angst loosely based on Robin Hood.

Seungcheol is the first in line for the throne, a good prince. Maybe he should be careful of his little secret.

Jeonghan (Beauty and the Beast)

A horrible curse was placed on the prince of the Yoon kingdom. One cold night, a witch attempts to tricks the young Jeonghan to letting her in the castle. He rejected as he didn't know who was standing in front of him. Feeling hurt and betrayed by the so-called nice, charming prince Yoon, she cursed him to look like a unlovable beast until someone loved him for true or when the last petal fell of a rose colored blue. No one dared to go near the castle until the local inventor is kidnapped and the town blames the beast who may not even exist. The daughter of the inventor decides to investigate herself and meets the beast and his way of living. A horror story based on Beauty and the Beast.

Joshua (Snow White)

A hunter who was sent on a mission by the queen to kill a girl, the queen's envy of her beauty the cause of the heinous crime. But when he came back empty-handed, the queen sent her son, Joshua, to kill the girl, to toughen him up, teach him the world is cruel and unfair. When the two meet, it was love at first sight and Joshua helps the girl hide until his mother catches wind of the girl being seen on the outskirts of town. Clearly the rule "don't take candy from a stranger" doesn't exist in the Pledis kingdom as the girl is soon kidnapped after eating a poisoned apple. An angst/smut based on Snow White.

Jun (Sleeping Beauty)

The section of Pledis ran by the Wen family falls under a deep sleep when the curse placed upon Prince Jun when he was born finally comes true. A mysterious girl sent by her mother bearing gifts soon finds the ghost town, vacant of life, any bodies to be seen were in a death-like sleep. Her heart too fragile to experience the destruction finds the prince, a familiar face she thinks, and tries to awaken him. A horror/smut story based on Sleeping Beauty.

Hoshi (Cinderella)

The dance was supposed to bring everyone together, not tear them apart. A shoe found by the prince, a show belonging to the girl he danced with, the girl who would become his princess and eventually his queen. Families tore apart because their daughter's foot wouldn't fit, daughters disowned because they're not the next queen, girls cutting off their heels and toes to impress Prince Hoshi. All the girls in the kingdom are accounted for, except one who is known by her family as Cinderella, but she hasn't been seen in years. Hoshi feels this is his future wife and he's determined to find where she is and what her family is covering. A horror story based on Cinderella.

Wonwoo (Tangled)

Prince Wonwoo has been meeting a girl in a tower for years, ever since they were children. He never knew her name for she doesn't have one, at least she think she doesn't have one. One day, while they were playing, her caretaker called out for her, Wonwoo hiding under the bed, seeing the girl with magical hair helping the woman through the window. The woman started to beat the little girl, Wonwoo struggling to keep his anger back. As the woman left, he came out, telling his friend that he will rescue her one day and they'll go to the Lantern festival held by the Pledis kingdom every year. An angst based on Tangled/Rapunzel.

Woozi (Atlantis)

Only rivaled by Wonwoo as the kingdom's booknerd, the determined prince is ready to find a hidden city, long believed to be lost. He reads stories of Queen Kahi and the Pristin Princesses, fascinated by how an entire city can just vanish. His friends think he is foolish, except for the aforementioned Wonwoo, but he is convinced that there is a surviving kingdom under their very own. His expedition drags him and his 12 friends into a wild adventure. A mashup of all 4 genres, most likely a multi-part.

You know this story is a mash-up of everything, it may not be contained to just one story, there's simply too much to his adventures and misdeeds.

DK (The Little Mermaid)

He would always sing to anyone who would listen, children, elderly, even animals that passed by. His favorite place was the pier behind the kingdom, hidden in the forest. He liked to think the fish below the surface could hear and enjoy his music, and it was true. A mermaid started to leave him little gifts and notes as trinkets from under the sea. He has only caught a glimpse of her face, but he remembers the tail vividly, rose quartz, a pale pink representing love and healing and a light blue the kingdom dubbed Serenity. Unfortunately, he also attracted the worst type of sea creature. The sea witch, Ursula, wanted his voice as her own, so she tricked into being her own personal singer in hopes that he will find the girl. With time running low, what can Dokyeom do with no voice? A horror/fluff story based on the Little Mermaid.

Mingyu (Aladdin)

Growing up, Mingyu had to do some things he wasn't proud of. Steal a loaf of bread here, stab this man over there, yeet that guard to the kingdom over, you know... normal boy stuff. When Mingyu finds a lamp and is given a chance to impress the one girl he has had his eyes on for years, he discovers that maybe it's not your past or how you present yourself, but maybe it's what's on the inside that counts. A fluff/angst story loosely based on Aladdin

Minghao (Mulan)

When his father discovers that Minghao refuses to teach a local townsgirl because his admittedly sexist views, he tells the young prince the story of two lovers who were thrown for a whirlwind when a sudden war threatens to destroy the kingdom. An angst/fluff story based on Mulan

Seungkwan (Emperor's New Groove)

Cocky, brash, aggressive, flamboyant, loud, all these words can describe Boo Seungkwan. He has that type of personality that can make you love him or will make you want to rip his throat out. The villagers get fed up, and when one deranged kingdom workers attempts to poison him and he goes missing, no one seems to notice. It's not until a local girl, Y/N, finds a lost llama in the wild that Seungkwan realizes that maybe he is a bit too much. An angst based on Emperor's New Groove.

Vernon (The Princess and The Frog)

You would think the first time Vernon almost got cursed, he would stop asking strange people for his fortune, but no. The 2nd youngest prince asked for his future from a voodoo doctor and was transformed into a frog, the curse only to be broken by a kiss from a princess. When he convinced a girl who he thought was a princess to kiss him, the two are dragged into a trip where they must figure out how to get cured and avoid being found by the voodoo doctor. An angst/fluff based on The Princess and The Frog.

Dino (Frozen)

The youngest prince had a brother, it's rumored that the brother is dead or a traitor to the Pledis Kingdom. The truth is much more heartbreaking. The boy was locked up after accidentally injuring Dino with his ice powers. Dino was confused as to why his brother was locked up, so he constantly visited the door his brother was held captive behind, trying to talk to him, day after day, month after month, year after year. When the town is submerged into an endless winter, Dino has to figure out the cause with the help of a strange townsgirl before his brother is killed or the town is destroyed. A horror/angst based on Frozen.

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the-angry-tired-lesbian-bitch · 5 years

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Ok so I have an idea for a story/fairy tale

PSA: This is very reminiscent of Cinderella and I was tired when I wrote it

Ok so, there are two girls, let's call them violet and daisy.

Daisy is bisexual, and "open" about it, in the sense that her parents know and she makes no real attempt to hide it. However her parents don't accept her and thus treating her like a slave and pretending that she doesn't exist. But she does have a friend who acts as her sort of fairy god mother in this situation, his name is Greg because why the hell not.

Violet is a lesbian but is 1200000 coats deep in the closet. She is also the princess of the kingdom they all live in. Since she obviously can't marry a girl, she frequently disguises herself and visits what is basically the kingdoms version of a gay bar, where she has met daisy several times but they never really exchanged names, due to violet fear of being outed and shunned.

Anyway on to the story.

The king decides that they should hold a ball for violet in an attempt to find her a suitable husband, but he poses this as a birthday party for violets little sister, Rosa, to the queen, Rosa and violet. Now the queen and violet are very close and the queen would not approve of marrying violet off. So the king invites the rest of the kingdom.

Daisy and Greg hear about this and are really excited. They get all the stuff they need, suit or dress you can decide, but Daisy's parents, the bastards, find a binding spell, or something like that, to make sure that she, or perhaps someone else, would not be able to leave the house. They would check on her every night at exactly midnight to make sure she wasn't off doing something scandalous.

Daisy is devastated but determined to go to that fuckin ball, so she and Greg come up with this plan. Greg takes daisy's place so that the binding spell would effect him instead, because he knows what she goes through on a day to day basis and honestly? She deserves a fucking break from the ugly ass homophobes that are her parents!

So she goes and has and absolute ball ( I am so sorry I saw an opportunity and I took it). Violet however is having an awful and confusing time ( and like girl same, like in life generally) because this is her little sisters birthday party but her dad keeps intruding her to these weird old dudes, and finally (I love this girl but she's a bit of a dumbass) it clicks and she realises her dad is trying to marry her off. Horrified that she would be betrayed in this way by her own dad, she runs away ,like the gay dramatic bitch she is, to the library, because it's kinda her happy place. (If it isn't obvious enough, violet is based off me, I'm the gay dramatic bitch)

Cue our wonderful bisexual

Being the amazing gal she is, Daisy follows her to the library, to make sure she is ok. Now at this point they kinda recognise each other but don't know from where ( Daisy is also a dumb ass and doesn't realise that she is the princess either) so they get to talking and slowly realise that they know each other from the bear in the woods ( that's the gay bar btw I could think of a better name) they spend hours in the library, just talking, and getting to know each other, hands almost touching because there useless wlw. But it gets to like 11:45 and Daisy has to run home. BUT unlike Cinderella, they plan to meet the next day in the town AND daisy give Violet a quick cheek kiss ( violet dissolves into gay panic and again girl same).

Daisy makes it home just in time, not only not getting caught, but in a fucking euphoric state, because she . Met. A. Pretty. Girl. And. They. Have. A . Date. Tomorrow!

Half way through that date, Daisy realises that she is on a date with the fucking heir the the throne. She nearly freaks out but violet pulls her into an alley and explains everything to her, and says that she would understand if she never wants to see her again. Daisy kisses her and says that it changes nothing and they'll just have to be very careful. They have their first and second kiss in that alley

They begin a secret relationship, because they would be shunned from society and violet would be disowned by her dad.

This goes well.

Until it doesn't.

One of the weird old dudes, lets call him Chad because it's the douchest name I can think of (no offense to the chads out there who aren't douches) from the ball sees them kissing and realise the truth. He tells violets family, in an attempt to gain there favour and marry the princess himself. However he makes a big mistake. He only tells the queen because the king has a reputation for being unreasonable and killing the messenger .

Since the queen is the only good parent in this story, she talks to violet, trying to see if it's true. When confronted about it, violet breaks down in tears, saying how it is true and it isn't a phase and she's in love, begging her mother to still love he, which of course she does. But she does tell her that her life is going to be dangerous and she might not be able to protect Daisy. Because when it comes to it, a mob is a mob and no crown is going to protect you from that.

However Chad, the mother fucker, realises that the queen is a good person and instead goes to the king. He somehow manages to convince the king that violet is going through a phase and he is the best person to bring her our of it into the blissful world of heterosexuality (that was sarcasm btw)

When violet goes to her room, she finds her father sitting on her bed. He basically explains to her that she is going to marry Chad, and tell her mother that she wants to and that everything was just a phase. Or he will have Daisy killed. At this point violet is passed questioning her father mortality, and believe him when he says he will kill her.

She breaks up with Daisy, saying how it was doomed to begin with and they were dumb to think it could work in the first place and ends things with her. Both of them leave crying.

Daisy drinks at the bear in the woods questioning whether she is capable of being loved. That's when our friends, Rosa and Greg enter. (Both of them are ace aro. Why you ask? Because I said so) They are the only people in the kingdoms with more then 5 braincells each, so they put two and two together and figured out that violet and Daisy are in love with each other ( their relationship kinda just started with them bitching to each other about how dumb violet and Daisy are, but at this point there really close).

Daisy breaks down and tells them every. There are a lot of tears and a lot of beer. However, Rosa finally manages to get out that, violet does actually love her and that her dad is forcing her into the wedding.

*this scene honestly just reminds me of the princess bride*

Violet is getting ready for her wedding to Chad of douche land, when Daisy knocks on her window (she on like the second floor btw, so daisy is fuckin ripped) Daisy gives this big speech to violet about how she's the best thing that's ever happened to her, how she doesn't need anything else apart from her and how she's willing to risk her life if it means being with her. Violet loves the idea, but knows that they can't stay in the kingdom.

They are faced with a choice. Stay and be miserable or leave and be happy. It was an easy choice.

They run away from the castle, violet still in her wedding dress, to an Abandoned cottage in the forest. However, violet does leave a note for her mother, basically saying that she's safe, with daisy and happy. In the note she also explains what her father said to her about killing daisy.

The queen is destroyed that her daughter had to leave but is ultimately happy that she is not being forced into an unwanted marriage.

She also fuckin pissed at the king.

Fast forward about 2 years

Rosa and Greg are the reigning king and queen (they got married but as friends) because the king died. (The queen killed him the night violet ran away and framed Chad. What can I say, she's a bad bitch)

Suddenly, all 3 of them are told to go to the bear in the woods and not tell anyone. They all go because it was either that or suffering through a memorial for the king and honestly, possible death was better then that.

However, instead of the cold hands of death, they are greeted by violet and daisy. They're both a bit worse for wear physically, but they're happier then Rosa, Greg and the queen have ever seen them. (This isn't important but daisy is butching it up. Like loose white button up under a vest butch and short hair. Also violet has that "oh my god I like girls" hair. You know, the shortish hair that ends half way down the neck. So yeah daisy is super butch and violet is cute as shit)

Daisy and violet break the news that they are going to get married!! And while it will be in secret, in there little cottage in the forest, they want the 3 people they love most to be there.

They all show up, daisy is in the same outfit, but you know classier, and violet is in a lovely dress with a bouquet of violets and daisies. Why, because I said so.

Greg is daisies best man, Rosa is Violets maid of honour (they both walk them down the isle) and the queen conducts the ceremony. It's all happy and gay.

The newly weds have their first dance, and even though they were away from where they lived all there lives, they've never felt more at home.

The end

(please tell me your opinions, improvements casting and things like that in the comments, because I really enjoy reading them)

Also @miss-yiay what do ya think?

#lesbian #gay #lgbt #fairy tail #fairy tale #Cinderella #wlw #daisy #rosa #violet #greg #the queen #story #book #princess #princess bride

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adambethyname-blog · 5 years

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Complaints After Seeing “Avengers: Endgame”

We are a week removed from the release of “Avengers: Endgame.” After seeing it last Friday night, I pretty much went on a tear reading every interview, analysis, and commentary I could find all over the interwebs. I noticed that there was a commonality between a lot of the questions that people generated after a first pass through the movie. But this isn’t about questions, it’s about complaints and grievances.

First and foremost, a quick review: I absolutely loved it. It takes a lot of skill to wrap up 22 movies and that’s probably why the movie was three hours long, but the writers deserve a special pat on the back for not re-treading through old story lines in an effort to bring people up to speed. For example, Captain Marvel just shows up... no explanation. You were expected to have seen “Captain Marvel” back in March. You were required to know who she was and what she could do, and if you didn’t... well, that’s on you.

Now, to be the prissy little diva that people expect me to be, I’m going to list my petty, whiny complaints. Why? Well they’re the most fun because I am never truly satisfied with anything.

Thanos’ death wasn’t good enough: Honestly, he deserved worse. MUCH worse. They spent 22 movies building Thanos up to be this God-like villain who was almost invincible. When push came to shove and it was time to finish him off, he sat down and got dusted after Tony Stark/Iron-Man snapped his fingers.

There were so many characters in the Marvel MCU that deserved to pull the trigger on Thanos. Drax’s family was murdered by Thanos. Nebula was taken apart a piece at a time for disappointing him. Thor lost half of the survivors of Asgard along with his brother, Loki, to Thanos’ genocide. Gamora deserved revenge for her mother’s death which we saw in “Infinity War.” Hawkeye saw his three children and wife disappear during a Hallmark-moment family picnic (Aside: there was a 15.6% chance of Hawkeye’s whole family being dusted with him surviving. Yikes,). So to just see him sit down, accept his fate, and turn into the contents of a 77 El Camino’s ashtray was a little anticlimactic. I actually said out loud in the theater, “That’s it?”

Really? Rats walking on the keyboard? : The big question after seeing the trailers leading up to “Endgame” had to have been “How does Ant-Man get out of the Quantum Realm since we saw Hope, Janet, and Hank get dusted on the rooftop in the “Ant-Man & the Wasp” post-credit sequence. I was thinking the surviving Avengers would get some lead about Ant-Man that would lead them to the van or something. Maybe his daughter finds the van (in the comics, she takes up the Ant-Man role) while looking for her dad. But no. Random rats just happen to stroll across the control panel and they happen to hit the “retrieve” button which just HAPPENS to bring Ant-Man back from the Quantum Realm. C’mon. That’s just lazy writing right there.

Stark’s Infinity Gauntlet Was Good Enough to House the Infinity Stones? In “Infinity War,” Thor travels to Nidavellir, a distant planet next to a dying star, to see Eitri (Peter Dinklage) about forging a new weapon to fight Thanos since Thor’s hammer was destroyed in “Thor: Ragnarok.” While conversing about the events that have gone down, we’re told that Thanos sought out Eitri about creating the Infinity Gauntlet for the express purpose of housing the six Infinity stones. We’re even shown the mold.

It’s pretty much an understatement that to say that the Infinity Stones are powerful and I don’t think it’s a stretch to say that it would require something very special in order to harness all their power. Quite frankly, if I had to lay a bet, I’d say a molten glove forged from the heat of a dying star would do the trick. But to find out later on in the movie that Tony Stark was just able to cobble one together using old armor parts with Earth-harvested materials is a little much. Not to mention, whatever metal he used to make the Stark Gauntlet had the exact durability of the star-forged-space model. Not to mention, he was smart enough to make a gauntlet, but knowing what a snap did to monsters like the Hulk and Thanos, he couldn’t have beefed up his own version a little more to protect himself? It seems short sighted for a genius-level weapons engineer.

The Stones are still out there: “Avengers: Endgame” is supposed to mark the end of this entire storyline in the Marvel Cinematic Universe. Truthfully, it was wrapped up pretty tight with major story lines closed. However, Steve Rogers aka Captain America takes the Infinity Stones back to the spots in the timeline where they “borrowed” them from. That means, quite frankly, another megalomaniac can grab a stone and start this mess all over again. As definitive as the end of “Endgame” was, there’s still an opening for the dreaded “reboot.” Oh boy, get ready for gender-flipped “Iron Man” a la “Ghostbusters” in 2025.

Nebula killing herself should have created a time paradox: If someone invents a time machine at noon, it won’t be 12:05 before someone brings up the rules of time travel established by “Back to the Future.” For some reason, we, as a society, have decided that of all of the time travel rules that we’ve learned as a result of pop culture, it’s “Back to the Future’s” rules that we are committing to the Constitution of Time Travel (I’m sure some of “Terminator” is going to be sprinkled in there as well). Even in “Endgame,” we are treated to Scott Lang, professional cat burglar, pontificating about time travel and casually dropping the rules about time travel including “no talking to our past selves, no betting on sporting events...” Professor Hulk throws cold water on the whole theory by saying, “If you travel to the past, that past becomes your FUTURE. And your former present becomes the past. Which can’t now be changed by your new FUTURE.”

Still with me? Head explode yet?

Nebula’s case was driving me nuts for a solid week because in order for Endgame Nebula to become Endgame Nebula she had to evolve from Past Nebula. The two confront themselves toward the end of “Endgame” and EG-Nebula shoots P-Nebula. Now, P-Nebula doesn’t have the opportunity to evolve into EG-Nebula so EG-Nebula should CEASE TO EXIST because the events that turn P-Nebual into EG-Nebula will never happen and therefore EG-Nebula won’t come to be.

I get what Professor Hulk was saying, but the Nebula’s case is different because it’s literally the same person on the same timeline, just at two different points, that were brought together at a single common point in time. Quite frankly, using my time travel theory, P-Nebula COULD have killed EG-Nebula because then P-Nebula could still evolve into EG-Nebula; however the door doesn’t swing both ways since time is linear (which was confirmed by The Ancient One in another scene).

I thought a better ending would have been for P-Nebula to kill EG-Nebula and when it looks like Thanos is about to re-snap the world again, P-Nebula turns on him and finishes him off. Why? Well you have to go back to “Guardians of the Galaxy.”

“Guardians Vol. 1″ revolves around the acquisition of the Power Stone. Ronan the Accuser acquires the stone and wants to head to Xandar to destroy the planet. Nebula and her sister Gamora have been sub-contracted to assist Ronan in getting the Power Stone on behalf of Thanos; however, when Ronan realizes what he has, he tells Thanos to piss off and he’s keeping it for himself. Ronan is going to destroy Xandar and then come for Thanos (who at this moment is stoneless). Nebula who watches the FaceTime call Ronan has with Thanos turns on her father. She says, “You see what he’s turned me into. You kill him, I will help you destroy a thousand planets.” It’s apparent that even way back then, Nebula was harboring some awful feelings for her father who turned her into a cyborg for losing sibling fights with her sister.

In “Endgame,” P-Nebula comes from the “Guardians Vol. 1″ spot in time, so it’s safe to say that she is still harboring these terrible feelings for her dad. It would have been poetic justice if she turns on him right when he’s about to fulfill his destiny.

Yes. These are petty, but I have a petty mind that questions things like this. I just hope that when you commit to 22 movies, you put a LITTLE more thought into the plot. I mean, c’mon.

Oh, before I forget. “Spoiler Alert.” You probably should not have read all of the above stuff if you haven’t seen “Avengers: Endgame.” Consider yourself warned.

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yocchannk · 3 years

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Yoharikos child? Omg! Yas pleaseee!

I mean idk if ur talking abt my YOU hane riko, but oki i havent talked about them in a while anyways! Also disclaimer: This is apart of the quote on quote, canonical events surrounding my next gen AU, so there is some(ahem, lots of) drama. (ESPECIALLY, regarding the relationships between you, yohane, and riko)

(if u dont want drama or any storyline, I suggest just scrolling to the end, where theres mostly just fluff)

(okay enough talking but like, there are SOME nsfw things, but not like, enough where its all about it.)

Yohane and Riko had twins; Yuuki Kuro Tsushima and Ryo Shiro Tsushima, Yuuki’s a girl, Ryo a boy.

Yuuki has almost impossibly good memory (Remembers everything back to the womb), and so she’s encountered times where it hurt her more than it helped her. She’s quite like Yoshiko, in a sense, she’s always very secretive on what she feels, closed off from the world for years.

Riko wasn’t aware that Yuuki and Ryo were Yoshiko’s, she figured they were You’s, as they had been dating, and she’d gotten prego at their after-party of the marriage. Yohane had dealt with extreme guilt from it, and was scarred (Hugely) because of her “mistake”.

Yoshiko chose their middle names, surprisingly, Riko and You didn’t know what they were, so Yoshiko chose them. Riko and You felt like they couldn’t raise both successfully (You mains a ship, so she’s not gonna be home often/Riko is a award winning pianist, so she wouldn’t be able to find time to give them all the necessary attention they need.) So, Yuuki was entrusted to Yoshiko.

Ryo had inherited Yoshiko’s violet eyes, but You had concluded it was because her father too had violet eyes.

Yuuki, and her infinite memory, remembers every single detail about the drama, and she’s kind of mentally unstable due to the trauma, she felt like she aged way before she was even born. She’s pretty quiet, especially regarding family and such, she acts confident and mature, but really, she’s fragile, scared and yearning for her family to bind together.

Ryo, Riko, and You are all completely oblivious to everything, they have the perfect life, pretty much. Ryo isn’t even aware of his few minutes older sister.

Yoshiko had raised Yuuki mainly in New York, she was only in her early twenty’s when Yuuki was born, and she needed an escape from her other family, so she participated in a university there. In her absence, Yoshiko was constantly trying to find someone to fill the empty role that she knew Yuuki deserved, guilt ridden and stress-filled. She went through thirteen exes, half of them didn’t like Yuuki, the others couldn’t get through Yuuki to bond with.

Riko and You, for the entire 17 years they didn’t see Yoshiko, or Yuuki, they worried. They were ready to reunite with their (or, Riko’s,) daughter, and to raise her like they should have.

Yoshiko tries her very best, to give Yuuki a good life, that is, and always will be, her top priority. She’s built up a video game company to give Yuuki a luxurious life, and to have something to entertain her, and, as much attention she could give, there was never a day in Yuuki’s life where she was yelled at. She just wants the best for her daughter, even if she wasn’t her legal mom. Both of them are pretty closed off from the world because of their family.

When Riko heard of the news of her daughter and her daughter’s “father” returning, she was really happy. So happy, she hadn’t even realized that her giddiness wasn’t from seeing her daughter all grown up, it was from the thought of seeing Yoshiko again. She was yearning for Yoshiko, when she thought it was Yuuki.

Upon realizing this, Riko had a huge relationship crisis. She didn’t understand why the feeling of Yoshiko returning, possibly into her arms, made her so happy and heart-aching. She was confused with every feeling for Yoshiko.

You, herself, was guilty. She slept with Chika, a year after their marriage, they were all drunk, but Riko said it was okay, well, until they found out Chika was 6 months pregnant. The scars are long gone, however.

When the two bluettes finally returned home, Riko and You were both extremely confused at Yuuki’s striking resemblance to Yoshiko. They shrug it off, thinking of it as another genetic thing. They were also surprised at Yoshiko’s large growth spurt (Riko, who drank stress-coffee all the fucking time, stopped growing and is now shorter than her fellow second years.) who was, now the same height as You, who was the third tallest in Aqours.

Yuuki, for the longest time, only referred to every Aqours member (Save papako) by their last or full name. They all were weirded out at it, especially You and Riko.

Yuuki and kotoumi kid 2, Kameko, get along like NozoEli gets along. Kameko is the only one that’s not apart of the drama that is aware of the drama. She’s pretty much the only one who see’s the fragile side of Yuuki, the one who’s been bottling up her emotions for years.

The longer Riko was around with Yoshiko near, or alone with her thoughts, Riko’s mind was subconsciously dreaming of Yoshiko, her heart ached extremely for her, Riko felt her body boiling with jealousy when Yoshiko was around someone who wasn’t her, and she still didn’t know why. Said girl, unfortunately, still can’t look or think about Riko clearly. She can’t get over her guilt, and her crush. This makes a huge gap between the two parents.

Ryo was shook when Riko and You told him about Yuuki, and their siblingship. Yuuki was partially smug.

Yuuki and Riko had a somewhat strange relationship; Yuuki, with her memory, was constantly dropping hints to her true lineage for Riko, and her true love.

Riko finally realized her feelings when she saw the messages exchanged between Yoshiko and her at the time current girlfriend, she realized upon realizing how she wished that girl was her, and how she wished she was all Yoshiko looked at and felt about. She had a long night of crying to herself because of it.

The closest the two got to one another when the intimacy was high and the tension was tense, they ended up passionately kissing due to it. Yoshiko broke the tension, and romance, from fear of destroying You and Riko’s relationship, and their family. Riko had a break down after it.

The third years were the first in Aqours besides Yoshiko to realize the drama, and then it was Chika, then the first years, then finally You and Riko.

You and Riko’s relationship was in absolute jeopardy after the realization. It got worse when Riko and Yoshiko got drunk and almost fucked, again. They were in mid-make out in bed when You, now sobered up, caught them. They divorced shortly after, it was for the best.

(heres the fluff and stuff)

When Riko and Yoshiko finally got together, as should be, Yuuki, was, not exaggerating, a fucking happy ball of tears. She was suuuper happy, she cried every morning for a week. Her dream had finally come true.

Ryo was a bit shook from the change, but adjusted quickly, he found himself happier than ever, like a piece of himself was lost and found without knowing.

Yoshiko and Yuuki felt like the burden finally lifted off their shoulders, and felt far more freedom than ever. Still, they had a hard time adjusting to the new change, and the new ability to open up and vent to their family, but Riko and Ryo had their backs.

Since then, Yuuki has taken some form of a chuunibyo (Ryo too) and now Riko can’t tell if she should be regretting it or not (But secretly she’s quite fond of the resemblance.).

Ryo and Yuuki, being siblings, and twins, have some extreme competitions between one another. Whether it be who could play piano with no mistakes the fastest, or who could finish eating the fastest. Ryo is the stronger one, while Yuuki is easily the faster one.

Riko wakes them all up, first, and always, is Yoshiko, then she wakes up Yuuki (Who, like herself, is a light sleeper.) then she wakes up the hibernating bear that is Ryo. She often has to turn on all the lights, take off his blankets, and dump water on him. Every. Single. Day.

They’re good friends with the Sonoda’s (Yoshiko and Umi are like sister and older sister), so they often have dinner with them on Fridays. Yuuki is the oldest one so she takes pride in always being the one to babysit them (Even though all credit should be sent to the third oldest one, Ukio, he IS the mom of the damn pack.)

Yoshiko is your classic overprotective dad-mom, she’s aware of the popularity her daughter gets because of her job and success, which means she gets a lot, and a lot, of love letters, mostly from gold-diggers. So yeah, when Yuuki questions why all of the letters are gone the next day, they were burnt in the 9th Circle of Hell.

Riko and Yoshiko are both undeniably, tooth rotting fluffy, romantics. They are REALLY soft, and sweet to one another. Not only, has the variety of pet names expanded, the overdose of fluff increased. In the morning, they cuddle in bed when the kids aren’t up, and before breakfast Yoshiko’s always hugging Riko from behind, her chin on her shoulder, and sometimes feed each other. They aren’t married, but they act like they’re already on their honeymoon. It was, really vomit-inducing (Says Yuuki).

The biggest fight the duo had was when Riko found out that before they got together, Yoshiko slept with several other girls in her absence. Yoshiko didn’t even know what was wrong about it, the drama was still there and they hadn’t even reunited at the time. But then again it all clicked when she realized there was a chance of STD and getting another girl pregnant during that time. THANKFULLY, their worries weren’t true. Though Riko has Yoshiko put on a condom here and there for safety (I mean how the fuck would she get Riko preggo, wheres the logic)

Yoshiko, nowadays, has more of a Dia-aura. Serious but kind and dedicated. Dia is proud, to say the least.

Yuuki and Ryo have different bedrooms, Yuuki’s is in more dark colors (She likes dark blue), while Ryo’s is more pastel. They fight over the bathroom that connects their bedrooms, though.

The two are both your reliable senpai, they inherit the smarts and maturity of Riko (When they’re in public). It hurts how Yoshiko has three people who are at a constant rate of correcting every little thing she does (Yuuki does it because she knows how annoying it is, Ryo does it just cause, and Riko because her OCD won’t allow it.).

Yuuki and Ryo worked at 7-Eleven for quite some time because Yoshiko refused to give them the latest video game that Yoshiko’s brand released for free, and both of them reaaaally wanted it, so that’s how they worked at the same 7-Eleven Riko part-timed at for a full two months.

The two once walked in on Yoshiko and Riko having some (Very) heated sex, all of them couldn’t look one another in the eyes for a while after that.

Ryo, as the council vice president, is pretty close with Ukio, who’s the council president. Yuuki jokingly said she’d start a reelection to become president and accidentally set off a real reelection for council president. She was president for a week before she returned the role to Ukio.

Yuuki is a natural at piano, but mains the violin and guitar. Ryo plays piano and the flute.

There was a time where Riko had accidentally scheduled two recitals at the same time, so Yoshiko ended up dying her hair and changing her hairstyle to look like Riko’s. The only issue was the huge height difference, and stature. Riko’s body was far more feminine while Yoshiko had that serious business person look. You and Yoshiko often worked out too (They surprisingly got along well like they used to, despite the whole ordeal.) so both of them were pretty bulky. So at the start of the recital Yuuki was a Riko-copy, then when the curtains closed swapped with Yoshiko, who actually played (Apparently Tsushima’s are natural pianists.). Yoshiko and Yuuki were teased for their red hair for a while until they finally were able to remove it.

Yuuki is a huge prankster, and no one knows it other than her family and friends. She’s the cool mature senpai, no one would believe it if she pulled that prank and dropped a water bucket onto Koizumi-sensei. Ryo berates her after.

They once went to Universal Studios in LA. Riko and Ryo relied a lot on their English-speaking-able bluettes to get around and be a translator. Yoshiko’s accent is pretty well hidden (She was in New York for a full 18 years, her English has gotten really well since then, practically can rival Mari.)

Yuuki was born on New Years, at 11:39 PM, while Ryo was a day after at 12:03 AM Jan 2nd. They, along with Dia, celebrate their birthdays till 1AM so they get Ryo’s day as well. It’s a fun time for everyone.

Actually, all of their birthdays are absolute bangers. They play all their old songs as idols, and get blackout drunk (Which is why they have the real party separate from the kids.). They think they don’t know, but Yuuki knows everything.

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justanoutlawfic · 6 years

Text

Where The Heart Is: Chapt. 12

Story Summary: The sequel to "I Won't Let Go". 22-year-old Emma is back home in Storybrooke. Just when she thinks she has things all figured out, she gets a very unexpected surprise. Mary and David are still by her side, trying to help their little girl deal with the real world.

Chapter Summary: Emma and Bae have their long awaited confrontation, while her parents try to listen in.

A short chapter, I know. To be honest, this story probably only has a couple of chapters left, then the epilogue. I have loved this verse so much and will probably do future shots because I can’t let go of it, but at this point, I feel that all can be done with the Charming Family has been. Let me know what you want to see in these next couple of chapters and of course, what you think. =) Until next time, friends.

Also on AO3 (FF to come but the site is being a dickhead.)

“Just let me explain,” Baelfire said.

“Why should I listen to a word you say?!?” Emma exclaimed. “You told me that getting involved with me was the biggest mistake you ever made!”

“I didn’t send that e-mail!”

Emma scoffed, rolling her eyes. “Yeah, right. What are you going to say? An alien stole your computer?”

“No. Look, when did you tell me that you were pregnant?”

Emma frowned. “A few months ago.”

“Milah broke into my apartment and when I found her, she was at my computer.”

“You really expect me to believe that?”

“Emma, you know me. Look at me, you have to believe me.”

Emma stared at him for a minute, looking dead into his eyes. Baelfire had always been a shit liar, he didn’t try to often, but even with surprises he couldn’t often keep them to himself. Slowly, she began to realize he could be telling the truth.

After months of believing he didn’t care, there he was. He was staring at her baby bump with wide eyes, looking awestruck. She looked over at her parents before glancing back at him.

“Mom…Dad…we um…we’ll be outside.”

David bit his lip. “Em…”

“We need some privacy.”

Pulling on her jacket, she lead Baelfire out onto the porch. She started pacing, her mind racing.

“So, you’re telling me that Milah hacked your e-mail and sent me that e-mail?”

“There’s no one else who could’ve done it, I certainly didn’t.”

“But I just…I don’t understand…”

“Did that really sound like anything I’d ever say to you?”

The hurt was written in his voice. She wanted to cry, but she also wanted to scream. He had every right to be hurt, just as she had every right to be suspicious. The whole situation was complicated and she didn’t feel competent enough to handle any of it.

“How could you believe that?” He asked.

“It was from your e-mail.”

“And you didn’t even try to call me? The Emma I know would’ve been breaking down my door, screaming at me to own up for our kid. Instead, you blocked my number and e-mail, I didn’t even know why!”

“Because I was hurt! I thought you had just told me that you wanted nothing to do with our baby! So, I thought, fine! I’ll make sure that you wouldn’t be burdened by us!”

“But it wasn’t the truth! You know me!”

Emma threw her hands up in the air. “What did you want me to do, Bae? My heart was shattered when I got that e-mail. Every time you left, that hurt, but this was worse than that. My heart was ripped from my chest and stomped on! You had rejected our child, me! I don’t handle hurt well, I normally run.”

Bae frowned. “And since you couldn’t run…you just blocked me out.”

“I know what it’s like to be unwanted,” she whispered. “I didn’t want that for our child. I had to protect them.”

“Them…or you?”

She chewed on her lip, reflecting on his words. Of course she wanted to protect her son from the heartbreak, but she had been through more than her share. That e-mail had destroyed her. It had made her feel replaceable, as if everything they had been through together was a lie. She didn’t like to think that she needed to depend on anyone, but the truth was, she did. She needed her parents, her brother, her friends.

She needed Bae.

“Do you know how much it hurts?” Emma asked. “How much it hurts to love someone that you can never have?”

“Who says you can’t have me?”

“Fate. Look at what we’ve been through. Your job, it means that you’ll never be here. We had a chance to reconnect and Milah ruined it.”

“Then my dad called me and I’m here again.”

Emma tilted her head to the side. “What are you trying to say?”

“I’m moving back to Storybrooke, I’m going to work for my dad until I can get a new job.”

“Bae…no! That’s not what you want! This job, it was your dream.”

“This baby is my dream. I want to be there for him or her, I want to be the parent that Milah never was. Family means the world to me, you mean the world to me.”

A single tear fell down Emma’s face. “I had already let you go.”

“I’m right here, Em. I’m not going anywhere ever again.”

The tears fell faster down her face. “I thought you hated me, I thought…I thought our relationship meant nothing. I was trying to get over you.”

“Oh Emma,” Baelfire stepped closer to her, taking his hand into hers. “I love you, I’ve loved you since I was 14-years-old. The moment you saw my scar and didn’t think I was weird for it. I have loved you ever since and I never stopped, not once.”

A sob escaped Emma’s lips. She felt vulnerable, she hated feeling like that. For so long, it was easy to think that he hated her. Sure, it hurt like hell, but it made the distance easier. It made it easier for her to move on and try to live a life without him. It was all different, he stood there, professing his love for her. It was all just too much, too soon. Everything had changed in the course of 5 minutes.

She fell into his arms, sobbing. He tightened his grip around her, resting his chin on top of her head. Inhaling the familiar scent of cologne and aftershave only made her cry harder. She hadn’t wanted to admit, but she had missed him, she had missed him so much. She didn’t realize that he was crying too, until she felt her hair begin to get wet.

“I’m sorry, Emma,” he whispered.

“You didn’t do anything.”

“Milah did, though. She hurt you like this, I’m just…I’m so sorry.”

“I’m sorry I cut you off without saying anything.”

“I understand why.”

She pulled away, wiping away her tears, him doing the same with his own. She let out a deep breath, sinking down onto the porch swing. He settled down beside her, smoothing down his jeans. She took him in for the first time since he got there. He clearly hadn’t shaven in a couple of days and his hair was growing out some, it almost resembled the fro he had when they were kids. Sitting on the swing, emotional, brought her back to right after they had just met.

She glanced up for a moment to see a familiar brunette making his way up.

“Baelfire.”

“I just wanted to check on you,” he said. “I’m sorry I left so quickly yesterday.”

“It’s okay.” She placed a marker in the book and set it down, patting the spot next to her. “Take a seat.” He sat beside her. “I’m sorry you had to see me like that.”

“It’s okay. I’m sorry I didn’t get there sooner.”

“You got there just in time. Thank you.”

It had been almost 10 years since that day and she felt like it had been a hundred years. He was one of the few people to ever see her so upset and he somehow always knew how to make her feel better.

“I don’t know what this means, for us,” she said. “I love you Bae, you have to know that.”

He nodded. “But the truth is, we’ve been apart for 4 years.”

“And we’re about to bring a baby into the world. I want you to be there for him, I just think when it comes to us…”

“We need to take things slow.”

“Exactly.”

Bae paused for a minute. “Wait…did you just say him.”

Emma smiled, in spite of herself. “Yeah, it’s a boy.”

“A boy.” A smile formed across his own face. “We’re having a son.”

“He’s a fighter, he’s already been on a few adventures.”

“Oh?”

“Let’s just say that you’re not the only one who got a visit from the bio parents from hell.”

Bae raised an eyebrow. “Ed…I thought he was in prison.”

“And he’s back there. I made sure of it.”

He let out a deep breath. “All the good stuff happens when I leave town.”

“Wouldn’t exactly call it good.”

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, we all are.”

“Good. I still want to kill him.”

“You kill him, I’ve got Milah.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

She half-smiled. “How are you doing with all that?”

“I haven’t heard from her since that day. I guess she did her damage and left.”

“Did you…want a relationship with her?”

“God, no. I have a mom and I love her, fuck Milah.”

“Good.” She rubbed her hands over her jeans. “Fuck, this is so complicated.”

He tilted his head back. “Tell me about it. I miss when our biggest problems were where we wanted to eat.”

“Let’s face it, we never had those problems.”

“We never got to be kids, did we?”

“Not in the way we were supposed to.”

“Our kid won’t be that way.”

“Nope, he’s gonna be a kid forever.” She flashed him a smile. “Is this really want you want?”

“It wasn’t exactly planned, but honestly…nothing has felt like home these past few years…not until I’m with you.”

“Does your dad hate me?”

Baelfire laughed. “I don’t think that’s possible. You’re like the daughter he never had.”

“We sort of fought when I went to tell him about the baby.”

“Meh…he wasn’t exactly thrilled with thinking I abandoned you.”

“Got an earful?”

“From him, then Mama.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “God, she’s scarier than Papa.”

Emma laughed, leaning into him. “Mothers normally are.”

Mary leaned back against the door, trying to get out what Emma and Baelfire were talking about. The walls were thick and while there was no longer shouting, it was clear that they were still talking. David stood in front of her, his arms folded over his chest. They had sent Neal upstairs to play and he had done so, begrudgingly.

“I can’t hear anything,” Mary sighed, stepping away from the door. “I’m sure she’ll tell us.”

“Do you think he’s telling the truth?”

“I don’t think Emma would still be bothering with him if he wasn’t.”

“This just doesn’t seem real.”

“You were ready to talk some sense into him a little while ago.”

“Yeah, but I thought there was sense to talk. I mean…what kind of mother would do this to their child? To their grandchild?”

“I think it’s been established that Milah is no mother.”

David sighed, shaking his head. “I’m glad for Emma and the baby. But…what does this all mean? I mean, are they going to be back together? Is Emma going to move out?”

The thought scared him. He had gotten used to the fact that she and the baby were going to be living with them, that they’d be able to help her out as much as she allowed. She was still so young, she needed them…didn’t she?

Mary softly smiled, stepping closer to him and taking his hands into hers. “Baby, I wouldn’t worry about that. If he’s telling the truth, I don’t think they’re going to jump into things like that.”

“What if they do?”

“Well….Emma’s a big girl, that’s her choice.”

“All of this is just…it’s a lot.” He frowned. “I don’t know if I’m ready for this, Mary.”

“You’re putting the cart before the horse.” She pulled him closer, resting her head on his chest. “She’s not going anywhere just yet, even when she does, you know we’ll never lose her.”

He nodded. “I guess you’re right.”

The door opened a few minutes later and Emma walked in, her face bright red and tear stained. David felt his muscles tighten and he headed for the door, but she got a grip on him.

“Daddy, it’s fine,” she said.

He relaxed a bit, putting an arm around her. “What happened?”

“He was telling the truth, he never sent the e-mail, it was all Milah.” She bit her lip. “He gave up his job, he’s going to work for his dad now. He wants to be in the baby’s life.”

Mary grinned. “That’s great news.”

“It is. It’s a lot to take in, but I’m…happy.”

“Are you, really?”

“I am, it’s just…complicated. A lot of things to work out still, I’m not exactly thrilled with Milah right now.”

David paused for a moment. “And you and Baelfire? What about your relationship?”

“We’re going to take things slow, focus on the baby for now. He’ll be here in just a few months, we’ll have plenty of time to figure out us. We’ve only ever known each other as kids…it’s time to get to know each other as adults.”

He smiled a bit. “That sounds very grown up.”

“It feels it.” She let out a sigh, rubbing her eyes a bit. “I know we were going to try to get the crib done, but all of this has me beat.”

“You should rest,” Mary said, switching to mama bear mode. “Go lay down, I’ll fix you something to eat before you sleep.”

“Thanks Mom.”

Emma leaned into David, letting him lead her upstairs. She collapsed back onto her bed, him laying beside her and stroking her hair. She glanced up at him, she could see the look in his eye.

“I’m still your little girl, you know,” she said.

“Good.”

“You’ll always be the first man who ever loved me. You have no clue what that means to me.”

“Emma, I don’t think you’ll ever understand how being your father has shaped my life,” he kissed her forehead. “I love you so much, Princess.”

“I love you too, Daddy.”

#charming family #charming family au #snowing #snowing au #mama snow #mama snow au #daddy charming #daddy charming au #swanfire #swanfire au #swan thief #swan thief au #swanthief #swanthief au #the lost get found verse

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setepenre-set · 7 years

Text

Love and War (chapter 2)

Strange Magic

Bog/Marianne, T rating

This is a story about two kingdoms, side by side, but worlds apart. And at war.

When the Bog King finally wins his war against the Fairy Kingdom, he decides that a political marriage with the eldest daughter of the deposed Fairy King will help to promote peace.

Obviously, he’s never met Marianne.

AO3 | FFN | chapter 1

The morning after the wedding, the Bog King tells the two goblins who seem to serve as his personal attendants that he intends to make a proclamation announcing that the laws of the former Fairy Kingdom are now void, and that the laws of the Dark Forest will now rule both.

Marianne makes a noise of derision as she picks up her teacup.

“Somethin’ you want to say, my lady?” Bog asks, narrowing his eyes at her.

“Oh, nothing much,” Marianne says, “just that your idea is terrible.”

She takes a sip of tea.

“Terrible,” he repeats.

“Terrible,” Marianne says, taking another sip of tea. and raising her eyebrows at him over the rim of the cup.

“I willna' have two sets of laws for my kingdom,” Bog says.

“Oh! By all means, then, let’s waste everyone’s time arresting and trying every single one of my people who unknowingly break a set of laws that they are unfamiliar with,” Marianne says. “That should really make the populace feel content. You’ll have an armed insurrection on your hands within a week, my lord.”

“Am I supposed t’ feel threatened by that?” Bog asks. “I did win one war against your kingdom already, my lady, don’t forget.”

“I do not forget,” Marianne says, bearing her teeth at him. “I do not forget what you have done to my people with your war.”

“My war?” Bog says, “I dinnae start the war, my lady! Your father—”

“You imprisoned one of his subjects illegally! What else was he to do when you refused even to meet to negotiate for her release?”

“By my laws she was—”

“Your laws! Yours!” Marianne says, “We went to war over this once, my lord, do not doubt that we shall do so again and again and again.”

“I won the war! I can do it again!”

“No doubt you can,” Marianne says bitterly, “but I have no wish to see my people broken down by constant civil wars and uprisings.”

She takes a sharp breath, looking at his face, a sudden, horrible thought occurring to her.

“Is that what you want?” she asks. “To destroy us so completely? Demanding to marry me—was that meant as humiliation, rather than reconciliation?”

To her horror, she realizes her voice is trembling, that her eyes are filling with tears. She pushes back her chair abruptly, rises, and turns to leave.

He does not call after her, or follow.

“Sire?” Thang says.

“Leave,” Bog says.

“Er…do you still want us to give the announcement?”

“No,” Bog growls, and both of his minions scurry out, Stuff scolding Thang all the way out the door.

When they are gone, he closes his eyes for a long moment.

Humiliation. Marrying him had been a humiliation for her.

He hadn’t thought of it like that, but of course it would have been humiliating for her. Not just being forced to marry the one who had defeated her kingdom, but—

Bog is well aware that he is hideous by both goblin and fairy standards. Too much one thing, not enough the other—the fairy blood from his father’s side has come out more strongly in him than it has for any of their family members for a hundred years, making him look all wrong to any goblin. But he’s no true fairy, that much is certain, no one could mistake him for anything but an unfortunate mix of bloodlines.

Far too ugly for love or desire.

Or to be anything other than a humiliation to his new wife.

That thought hurts more than it should.

Bog sinks down into his chair and glares down at the remains of his breakfast as though this whole mess is its fault instead of his.

She’s right, too; he’s able to admit that now that his temper has cooled. It would be foolish to expect their new subjects to immediately fall into line with his kingdom’s laws.

He should have asked Marianne’s advice, instead of antagonizing her.

Bog rubs a hand over his face and rises from the table to go in search of his queen.

Marianne walks quickly down the hall from the breakfast room, fighting against tears, blindly takes a turn, then another, then ducks into a curtained alcove.

She’d thought—

Last night, when he came to her room with their weapons to spar, she’d—she’d thought that he respected her.

And when he’d left without trying to bed her, she’d thought he was being kind. But—

But non-consummation is grounds for the annulment of a marriage, she thinks, a cold feeling settling around her heart. And since her kingdom has been conquered, she is no longer queen by her own right.

Her position as queen is dependent on her being married to the Bog King.

Does he mean to use her to lull the nobility of the Fairy Kingdom into accepting him as their monarch, and then announce that the marriage is unconsummated and cast her aside when she’s served his purpose?

The curtain of her alcove moves aside. Marianne opens her mouth to send whoever it is away, and then finds herself unable to speak for outrage as Roland steps into the alcove with her.

“Buttercup—”

Marianne slaps him. It’s only a slap because of the size of the alcove, if it had been a bit bigger, she would have had room for a full punch.

“Go. Away. You absolute—”

“Now, Marianne, don’t be so upset,” Roland says, his tone coaxing. “I’m here to help you.”

“I don’t need your help,” Marianne hisses, but Roland just gives her his most charming smile.

“You don’t need the help of the man who commands the entire fairy army?” he drawls.

Marianne freezes.

“Oh, come on, Marianne, I know you,” Roland says, “You’d never take somethin’ like this wedding lyin’ down unless you had a plan. And I just wanted to let you know,” he twists his finger in the curl that falls over his brow, “that you can count on me, when the time comes.”

Marianne doesn’t know how to answer.

“Just think about it, Buttercup,” Roland says.

He winks at her, and then ducks back out of the alcove.

Marianne stares at the curtain for a long moment, thoughts disjointed and whirling.

It is some minutes later that she hears Bog’s goblin assistants calling her name.

“Your Highness?” 

“Queen Marianne?”

She takes a breath and steps out of the alcove.

“What is it?” she says.

“The King requests your presence,” says the first of the goblins.

“In the royal library,” finishes the second. “Your Highness.”

Marianne straightens her spine and looks down her nose at them.

“When you address me,” she says icily, “you will do it correctly. And the correct term of address for a queen is ‘Your Majesty’.”

She turns without another word in the direction of the library, ignoring the chattering apologies of the two imps behind her.

“You—ah—” the Bog King clicks the claws of both his hands together in a gesture that looks almost nervous. “You were right.”

Marianne blinks.

“Right?” she says slowly.

“Abou’ the laws,” he says with a grimace. “It wouldna work, what I was thinkin’.”

“…oh,” Marianne says rather blankly.

“But I do want a single law code for the kingdom,” he says, wings moving in a quick, repressed flutter. “So I was—hopin’ that maybe you had some—less terrible ideas about how to do tha’.”

“Oh,” Marianne says again, even more blankly.

He wants—he actually wants to know what she thinks? That’s—

Marianne stomps down on the pleasure that wells up at that thought.

Of course he wants to know what she thinks. If he really intends to win over her nobility, then he’ll hardly want to waste his time with little revolutions. This is practicality on his part, nothing more.

She can be practical, too. Their goals align this far at least, Marianne doesn’t want a hundred little uprisings that will just use up their resources and accomplish nothing. She wants a single, organized, successful coup.

“We should go through the laws of each kingdom,” she says, “and decide which laws from both should be kept.”

The Bog King looks at her, and Marianne almost thinks she might see admiration in his gaze.

It takes the servants three days to bring all of the legal records from the Bog King’s palace to hers. They set the books up in the library, arranged in a pile beside the pile of the books that comprise the legal records of the fairy kingdom.

Looking at the great stacks of books to be gone through, Marianne can’t suppress a groan.

“My thoughts exactly,” Bog mutters, grimacing. “It’s gonna take a year to get through it all.”

After several hours spent going through the laws, arguing over each one, Marianne is beginning to think that a single year was a conservative estimate. They’ve only just started on the laws concerning trade regulations!

She drops her head onto the parchment of the book she’s reading from.

“I’ve changed my mind,” Bog says, “Order is an overrated thing. We should abolish all laws an’ live in a state of blissful anarchy.”

Marianne gives a startled laugh and turns her head to look at him, her cheek still pressed to the parchment.

“We could sleep in caves,” she suggests.

“An’ live off the land,” Bog continues for her, gazing pensively at the ceiling, “And no one would ever have cause to use words like ‘embargo’ and ‘reimportation’ ever ever again.”

Marianne laughs again and he turns his head and grins at her.

(his eyes look even more blue when he smiles, she thinks, absolutely inconsequently.)

She sits up.

“I’m too tired to think straight,” she says.

He makes a noise of agreement.

“It’s late anyway,” he says, “we migh’ as well leave it for the night.”

Marianne swallows.

“Are you going to come to my rooms tonight?” she asks.

He hasn’t come again, after that first night, when they sparred.

Bog blinks at her.

“Do you wan’ me to?” he asks.

“Yes,” Marianne says, far too quickly.

(far too honestly)

There’s a barely discernible pause.

“Ah—I will, then,” he says.

He brings their weapons again that night.

Her marriage remains unconsummated in the morning.

The next night, after they’ve fought and he has left, Marianne lies on her bed and thinks furiously.

It’s his word against hers that the marriage hasn’t been consummated; she can lie, when they ask her.

—unless they ask her for—intimate details that she’ll be unable to provide. Birthmarks—physical appearance…

She can say it happened only once, that the room was dark.

That’s probably not going to convince people.

She’s not exactly sure if she’s a virgin; things hadn’t progressed very far, physically speaking, between her and Roland, before she broke their engagement (a fact that she is now supremely glad of), or with most of the people she’d dallied with, before Roland, but there had been Helen, the spring she was nineteen, giddy new springtime love, quick to bloom and quick to die, and there had been kisses and mouths and hands, and a little twinge of pain for Marianne, at Helen’s fingers inside her that first time, and blood on the sheets when they were finished.

Even if she’s not a virgin, though, Marianne realizes, that won’t necessarily support her assertion that the marriage was consummated. Bog can easily accuse her of having been unfaithful to him.

It’s—it’s difficult to imagine Bog doing that. Impossible to picture him publicly rejecting her, saying things like that, hurting her like—

(you trusted Roland, her mind whispers, and look where that got you.)

Marianne shuts her eyes and presses the heel of her hand to the center of her chest.

You won’t have to worry about that, Bog had said to her, when she spoke to him about Roland, and oh, she wants to believe him, wants to believe that he won’t hurt her, wants to trust him.

(you cannot trust him, her mind tells her.)

She curls up into a ball.

(you cannot trust anyone.)

...to be continued.

notes: By addressing Marianne as "Your Highness", rather than "Your Majesty", Stuff and Thang have inadvertently insulted her--and have also, unfortunately, played into her fears about Bog's intentions.

"Your Highness" is a form of address meant for a rank lower than Queen.

Stuff and Thang are unaware of this distinction; etiquette at the court of the Dark Forest is much less formal than etiquette in the Fairy Kingdom.

I hope you all are pleased with the continuation of the story!

#strange magic #love and war #fanfiction #butterfly bog #bog/marianne #arranged marriage au

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qqueenofhades · 7 years

Text

The Rose and Thorn: Chapter XXI

summary: Sequel to The Dark Horizon. The New World, 1740: Killian and Emma Jones have lived in peace with their family for many years, their pirate past long behind them. But with English wars, Spanish plots, rumors of a second Jacobite rising, and the secret of the lost treasure of Skeleton Island, they and their son and daughter are in for a dangerous new adventure. OUAT/Black Sails. rating: M status: WIP available: FF.net and AO3 previous: chapter XX

The sun was rising slowly behind them, painting blood-red tracks on the boards and matching the steady trickle from the ruin of Job Anderson’s head, as Geneva Jones sat with her back against the railing, stared at her hands on her knees, and felt only a detached, mild interest, as if they were glassed-up objects on display in some mad genius’s lair. She supposed that she should get up and do something, but in the first case, fucked if she knew what that was, and in the second, the Hispaniola was already under the impression that they had the Rose’s captain aboard. It could possibly look rather queer if someone else were to start striding around and giving the orders – especially her. Anderson’s words still rattled in her head like hot marbles, unable to be dislodged or destroyed. Think it’s time you go back to your dollies and your embroidery, little lady. The Rose is going to get a real man’s hand to master her.

Intellectually, Geneva was aware that this was complete bollocks, that she was no less good at what she did just because she had been challenged by an obnoxious man with a loud voice, and that if this Lord Gideon Murray was of a temperament to help them rather than being just another in what she had become convinced was their slow-motion descent through the poet Dante’s circles of hell, they could yet get out of this. Her heart was less sure. After having everything she thought she knew about herself, her past, her family, and especially her father upended in such short order, she could no longer return to comforting old certainties. She knew Daddy had been a pirate, she knew all of them had, but that man Silver had described, the merciless Captain Hook, who had killed his own old friend in cold blood, who was willing to take the war as far as it could go and then some… not her father, not the gentle, wry, clever, loving man she knew, who had taught her to sail since the moment she could walk, when the memory of the look on his face when she became captain of the Rose at eighteen could still light up her world. That had to be a different Captain Hook.

He’s still the same man, Geneva tried to reason with herself. Nothing about what he did has changed, only what you knew about it. As well, she felt, just as she always had, that their family’s life of sober, productive, peaceful probity for twenty-odd years must outweigh their violent hell-raising prior to it. Even that hell-raising, however, had been against tyrants and thieves and madmen and murderers, the same names that the civilized world called the pirates of New Providence. It had been glorious in memory, it had been easy, it had been strong. Now it all fell apart in a morass of broken pieces that cut her when she tried to pick them up and put them back, and no easy or clearly drawn or straightforward answers whatsoever.

Geneva closed her eyes, head pounding. The comparative quiet of the morning was ringing unnaturally in her ears, after the night of madness. A few of the Hispaniola redcoats were still moving around the deck of the Rose, dragging mutineers’ bodies away and pitching them over the railings with cannonballs yoked to their ankles, and she could hear the telltale churn in the water that meant sharks. While most of the mutineers had been the new men that she had taken on in Bristol, there were a few of her old hands among them too, the ones she had assumed to be firm and fixed in their loyalties. Daddy thought the same of Mr. Hawkins, no doubt. They were going overboard just the same, men she’d sailed with and adventured with and trusted for six years, and she could hear them being eaten. Between Mr. Arrow and now this, not to mention her own mistakes, she’d managed to destroy everything but the physical ship, and since it was tilting decidedly to starboard after the Hispaniola’s bombardment, that too was open to question. Just sink it. Just sink it, and take all of this away.

Geneva harshly swallowed the bile in her throat, as she was not going to vomit like some greenhorn in rough seas for the first time. She let her head fall with a clunk against the boards, wondering how long Lord Gideon felt was a proper time to question “Captain Barlow.” Thomas had decided it was too risky to use their own names, and had introduced himself as such – Captain James Barlow, and Geneva as his niece, Elizabeth. Silver had promptly made himself scarce, but she could not help but fear what Lord Gideon might have heard about a notorious one-legged man. And while the family had changed the Rose’s markings and flags and other Naval dressing, they had never changed the name, and that suddenly appeared as an unforgivable oversight destined to doom them all. What if Lord Gideon had access to the Navy rolls, knew the Rose had been stolen by pirates years ago, and then decided to –

Well, Geneva thought bleakly. Can’t be any worse, can it?

She remained where she was, the sun cresting steadily over the topsails, until she sensed someone crossing the planks toward her, then halting a few steps short. “C – Geneva?”

It was Jim. Dully wondering if he had come to shout at her more about Daddy, deciding she didn’t much care either way, and probably deserved it, Geneva cracked a bleary eye; both of them had had time to turn what must be a rather spectacular purple. “Aye?”

Like the rest of them, Jim looked tousled and sleepless, chestnut hair loose from its ponytail and face pale and drawn. But it had been a bloody clever move, that trick with the flare, and must have taken considerably gifted marksmanship to pull off, as well as quick thinking and steely nerves. He might have saved their lives, in fact, and Geneva forced the cold clay of her face into what she hoped was a grateful smile. “You – that was very impressive. Thank you.”

Jim shrugged, rather diffidently. “Thank you for trusting me to do it.”

They looked at each other for a long moment, the echoes of their confrontation in the cabin still audible between them. Then the mutiny had forced them to work together regardless, and it seemed deeply counterproductive to continue to go for each other’s throats, with the disastrous consequences of just such a thing scattered to every side. After a pause, Jim blew out a breath and sat down next to her. “I – ” he began, stopped, and tried again. “I’m sorry for what I said. I know you didn’t have any way of knowing what your father did.”

Even if he was apologizing for shouting, Geneva did not want to talk about her father right now. She felt almost unworthy of the credit Jim was extending to her – she hadn’t known, of course, but if she had, would she have treated that knowledge like Silver, keeping it to herself rather than throwing it out like Greek fire, to torch everything in its path? She could give no good answer why Killian Jones had killed James Hawkins, why she had grown up with a father and Jim, as a direct result of hers, had not. Nothing but her entire family’s obsessive love for a years-dead ghost, which she had no intention of offering up as a mitigating factor. If he had had, and still did have, that kind of control over them, Samuel Bellamy was a very dangerous man indeed.

“Thank you,” she said again, since Jim seemed to be waiting for an answer. “I’m sorry. That wasn’t any way for either of us to find out. I would give anything to take it back.”

“I know.” Jim struggled slightly with the words, but managed to get them out. “What I – well, about your father, I’m sorry for that. But with us, what I – about the kiss – ”

“What?” Geneva incredulously peeled open the other eye. “Are you actually wanting to talk about that right now?”

“I just…” Jim stared studiously straight ahead, but she could see his sunburned cheeks darkening further. “I said that you only meant to stab me in the back with it, and maybe that wasn’t true. But I – well. It’s as straight as I can say this, and I’m not trying to hurt you more. If it was just distraction and deception you were after, could you please not do it again?”

Geneva mulled this over grimly. She wanted to shout at him, just because the prospect of shouting at someone seemed vaguely appealing, but all her passion and anger and driving energy and sense of purpose, all the stuff you needed for a proper shout, had completely drained out of her. As well, Jim had every right to ask her so politely not to toy with him, not to treat him as a puppy or insipid hanger-on or other disposable inamorato. “I’m sorry,” was all that came out. She didn’t know if she meant for the kiss, or for how she had treated him overall, or the voyage, or coming to Bristol, or everything. Probably everything. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

Her voice cracked on the last one, mortifyingly, and she tried to turn it into a cough, but her eyes welled up and spilled over before she could stop herself. She bit her lip hard enough to feel her teeth break the skin; if she started crying now, she’d come completely to pieces, and she couldn’t do that. Not even if the Hispaniola men might be expecting some maidenly tears from poor Elizabeth Barlow, nearly set upon and torn apart by vicious mutineers, and confused as to why she hadn’t. That was for later. Everything was.

Nonetheless, Geneva could not quite stop shaking, and after a deeply uncomfortable moment, Jim reached out and put his arm around her shoulders, drawing her cautiously against his side and letting her hide her face. This made her shake more instead of less, even as she remembered that she hadn’t given him an answer and perhaps he thought this was some other devious female ploy to practice upon his sympathies. Why was he here, why was he being kind to her at all, when her father had killed his, had ruined his entire life before he was even old enough to remember it, or know why? He should still be shouting. They all should.

And yet, Jim remained holding her, lightly but firmly, making it clear that she could pull back if she wanted to, or if she felt this was an improper encroachment upon their still-fragile relations. Geneva sniffed hard, trying to gulp down the ache in her throat, and could not muster up enough orneriness to raise her walls again. “That was…” Her voice was muffled against Jim’s collarbone, the unlaced neck of his dirty shirt. “That was a really good shot. With the flare.”

She felt more than saw him shrug, with his usual self-deprecating nature. “Would have blown my bloody fingers off if I lit it in my hand. I had no choice but to take the risk.”

“No, it was.” Geneva looked up at him. There was a faint shadow of unshaven beard on jaw and cheeks, almost auburn in the morning light, which almost surprised her – she kept forgetting he was a year older than her. “I probably couldn’t have made it.”

“You could have,” Jim said. “You’re about the most impressive person I know.”

Geneva couldn’t help a shy, surprised giggle, despite her cloud of misery. “I am not.”

“Aye, you are.” Jim appeared to be quite stout on this point. “Bloody hell, look at me. Kicked out of the Navy, hated by the entire merchantry of Bristol, inadvertently burned down my mother’s inn, have no prospects for rebuilding it or making amends if I don’t come back with – well, something. Then there’s you. You’re beaut – clever, strong-willed, brave. You captain your own ship and travel the world, you stand up to whatever it has thrown at you, you’re not afraid of anything, and you’re just…” He trailed off. “You’re intimidating.”

Geneva had once seen a man in a social capacity – George Warrington, his name had been – who had said something similar to her. While he had outwardly meant it admiringly, it became clear that he did not, that he would have preferred for her to be somewhat less bright. Not all the way, no, no, not entirely. He was an educated man; of course he didn’t believe all that folderol that women were destined to a life of nothing but motherhood and drudgery. He had read books written by women, even, and he was perfectly willing to allow that Geneva be permitted such idiosyncrasies and peccadilloes. But when they were married (he seemed to do quite a bit of talking in this vein), she would need to bridle some of her more outrageous activities. Swearing, for example. She could swear around him, since he was (as he would often remind all and sundry) an educated man. But he did not feel it was proper for children to hear their mother swear, or for her to take quite such controversial notions. She’d have to make sacrifices.

After one too many speeches in this vein, and a family supper in which Grandpa and Daddy had gone rather glassy-eyed listening to George prattle about London stocks and bonds recovering in the wake of the South Sea Bubble, then exchanged the kind of look that meant they were thinking of dismembering him in the back garden before dessert (that memory had always been funny, but now it seemed less so), Geneva had issued George with his notice of dismissal. He had been quite aghast, and called by the house several more times without an invitation, in hopes of changing her mind. His last argument had been that she wouldn’t find anyone willing to accept all of her. She was a beautiful woman, she was talented, she was clearly very special, but she was too stubborn, too contrary, too scathingly witty, too prickly, and certainly too sexually liberate to appeal to any other gentleman of quality. Pass him up now, and she would be doomed to a life of either perpetual spinsterhood, or bearing eleven children for some fat old pig who only thought she was good for sweeping floors and baking bread.

“What?” Jim asked, evidently realizing that he had struck a nerve. “I’m sorry, did I – ”

“No, I… it’s not your fault.” Geneva scrubbed at her crusty eyes. “I’m sorry too.”

A corner of Jim’s mouth twitched wryly. “So, you think we’ll just be saying that to each other for the rest of the journey, then?”

Caught by surprise, Geneva giggled again. It was more of a snorted wheeze than an actual laugh, and it felt as if she’d been kicked in the ribs, but it was the first time in what felt like forever, and it seemed a small miracle to know that she still could. Jim coughed, looked down, and fished a handkerchief out of his pocket. “Here,” he said gruffly. “Let me clean you up a bit.”

“Oh no, it’s all right, I can.” Geneva tried to take the handkerchief, but he had a firm grip on it. “You don’t need to – ”

“I know I don’t,” Jim said, sounding slightly exasperated. “But you’ve been doing everything for everyone, without a rest, and you fought those men that were twice your size and thought you were no real threat to them. Let me, please?”

Geneva hesitated, torn between an urge to point out that the last thing she needed was more men trying to do things for her, and the sore desire to have someone else take control and sort this out, even for a little while. “Fine.”

Jim got up, dipped the handkerchief in the water barrel, and then returned, crouching down next to her, taking her chin in his hand, and carefully wiping the blood crusted on her face. Geneva hissed when he touched her black eyes, and he grimaced in sympathy, but didn’t pull back, working carefully and lightly, having to make a few more trips to rinse the cloth. “There,” he said at last. “I don’t think you’ve broken anything, it’ll patch up.”

“It’s fine,” Geneva said again, feeling an odd, burning tingle in the back of her eyes. “It’s just a few bruises and scrapes, I’ve had worse. You don’t need to fret over me.”

Jim paused, as if weighing what to say, sensing that she was trying to keep up a stiff upper lip, had to do her damndest to present the illusion of control, even as she had never felt less of it in her life. Then he said quietly, “It’s all right for it to hurt, you know.”

Geneva looked down at her hands, knotted in her lap. “Not right now.”

“Hey.” He reached out, took one of them, and carefully unbent her clenched, aching fingers, straightening them against his callused palm. It wasn’t forward or suggestive in any carnal sense, but just a solid, simple gesture of comfort, warm and matter-of-fact. “You can do it.”

Despite herself, Geneva glanced up at him, almost tentatively. She had been amused by his boyish crush and tongue-tied awkwardness around her before, but she now found herself deeply impressed by his steadiness and his cool head under fire, his perception and his bravery and that confounded refusal to hold a grudge past a few days, when he could conceivably and justifiably have held it for life. I have misjudged this man. Aye, and he is, not a lad. Their eyes met, and all at once, it was Geneva’s turn to feel shy, something she rarely did when it came to gentlemen. Her heart fluttered unaccountably at the thought of their earlier kiss, and Jim didn’t appear to be fleeing in terror from the potential of another one. She could lean forward – it was foolish, it wasn’t the time, she hadn’t even answered him yet, but he was there, and waiting, and –

She might well have done it. She was bloody close. Then the moment was broken by one of the Hispaniola soldiers – no, it was a lieutenant, wearing an officer’s silver gorget – emerging from the cabin and pulling Madi by the arm. “You, girl, what happened to your mistress in there?”

“Get your hands off her!” Geneva jumped to her feet, outraged. She knew that Madi needed no help in defending herself in the usual course of things, but with what they had just been through, for her to be called “girl” and mistaken for Eleanor Guthrie’s slave had to be the final salt in the wound. “That’s a free woman, Mrs. Scott, and you will leave go of her immediately!”

Surprised, the lieutenant looked over his shoulder at her, then – with a somewhat too-precise movement – let go of Madi, who murdered him with her eyes. “Your pardons, Miss Barlow. I discovered the Negress inside, and assumed she was tending to your companion.”

“You assumed wrongly,” Geneva said, very coldly. “And under what warrant, exactly, are the lot of you pillaging my – my uncle’s vessel?”

“Lord Gideon’s,” the lieutenant informed her. “There was just a mutiny on board, was there not? As the king’s agents, we have a responsibility to ensure the return and establishment of law and order, and to impose it ourselves if your uncle is unable. What did happen to the lady in there? Wounded, aye, but that doesn’t look to be a recent injury. What else has been going on aboard this ship, the – ” He raised an eyebrow, as if in expectation of a name.

Geneva raised one back at him, as if in expectation of his first.

“Lieutenant Jeremy Woodlawn, madam. I don’t think I’ve actually heard what this ship’s name is yet. Do you know where your uncle keeps the registry papers?”

“My uncle is speaking with Lord Gideon,” Geneva said. “I’m sure he’s sorted it out.”

“The ship looks quite Navy in her trim.” Woodlawn glanced up at the masts, then across the deck. “How long has your uncle sailed her, do you know?”

Geneva was very wary of giving any answers that might conflict with Thomas’, since she did not know what he might be claiming to Lord Gideon. “I don’t.”

“Hmm. Well, the papers must be somewhere in the cabin, and since this is not your slave, perhaps you wish to show me instead?” Woodlawn put his hand on the latch. “Then we can have this all sorted out and – boy, did I ask for you? I don’t recall doing so.”

Jim didn’t budge. “I’m sure I can help.”

Woodlawn eyed him, as if to say that he knew damn well Jim was trying to get between him and having Geneva alone for further persuasion, friendly or otherwise. However, he could hardly make it plain that he might be about to mistreat a wealthy merchant’s niece in front of the rest of the men, and jerked his head. “Very well. Make yourself useful.”

With that, the lieutenant followed Geneva and Jim into the cabin, which was low, dim, and smelled of blood and laudanum, as Eleanor had apparently been self-medicating throughout the chaos of the events outside. Her eyes were dilated, glassy, almost black, and she did not appear to take much notice of them. Geneva was trying to think what the devil to do – she knew exactly where the registry papers were, of course, but since they gave the ship’s name as the Rose and its captain’s as Geneva Jones, that, obviously, would be bad for their ruse in any number of ways. Woodlawn also did not seem like the kind of man who would be satisfied by putting a perfunctory effort into it and admitting failure. As Geneva and Jim came to a halt in the middle of the floor, he said again, “Well? The trunk or the desk, do you think?”

“I – can’t be sure, I don’t – ”

“Excuse me.” The slurred voice came from the bed, as Eleanor pushed herself up on an elbow, eyes unfocused, and pointed an accusing finger at them. “You, sir. You are invading my quarters. Do you know who I am?”

“I do not, madam.” Woodlawn turned to her. “Did you possibly wish to inform me?”

“She’s an – old friend of – a friend,” Geneva said hastily. “Not particularly – ”

“I’m Mrs. Woodes Rogers,” Eleanor announced. “My husband will punish all of you if you persist in this insubordination. Woodes Rogers, you have heard of him? The governor of Nassau?”

Woodlawn’s eyebrows shot toward his hairline. “Governor Rogers has been dead for eight years, madam.”

Eleanor frowned, then shook her head woozily. “No. No, he’s not. He’s – ”

“See,” Geneva interrupted, sensing her opportunity. “Mrs. – Mrs. Smith is raving. Bad reaction to opium. She was wounded in the side by a falling spar not long into the journey, it’s been a terrible trial to care for her. Really, you will insist on bursting into an invalid gentlewoman’s bedchamber and ransacking the place? For shame, sir! For shame!”

Lieutenant Woodlawn squinted at her, but after a moment, very grudgingly, took a step backward. “Apologies. Christian consideration must be taken into account. We can wait for your uncle’s return.”

They managed to make it back on deck, as Geneva felt her knees wanting to wobble and locked them as hard as she could. It was at least an hour since Thomas had gone on board the Hispaniola, maybe more; they had not been sounding the bells in the disarray of things. How many questions, exactly, might Lord Gideon have? Something seemed faintly, damnably familiar about the man, as if she should know him from somewhere, but she didn’t. It was ominous enough that he was from Charlestown. She was trying to suppress the urge to pace, fingernails balled painfully into her fists, when a voice said, “Lieutenant, we’ve found a few more below.”

Geneva, Jim, and Woodlawn all turned to behold two redcoats dragging John Silver by the arms, one of them carrying his false leg; to judge by the bruise rising on Silver’s cheek, the man had already struck him with it. They dropped him in a heap, as the first one said, “There’s another in the brig, m’lord. But before we ascertained what he was in for, we didn’t think it wise to release him on the – ”

“Jesus Christ.” Silver spat out a few dribbles of blood. “I already told you, don’t let that man out, unless you want us all blown to – ”

“Shut up.” The soldier kicked him, which Silver absorbed with a grunt. Addressing himself to Woodlawn, he went on, “The surviving mutineers, they’ve sworn that this one was the chief of the uprising. Talked himself into control of it and was intending to carry it out, until the lad managed to signal for us. Should we execute him as well, sir?”

“The chief of the mutineers, was it?” Woodlawn inspected Silver closely. “A one-legged man, to boot. How very curious. No, Jenkins, hold your fire. Lord Gideon is going to want to see this.”

Geneva and Madi glanced at each other almost inadvertently, as if to gauge what the other was thinking to see Silver prone and bleeding in front of them. Nobody could argue with him deserving it, and Geneva might still have a few slaps in reserve if the opportunity arose, but she did not quite want to see Silver shot like a dog. He had killed Anderson, but was that in defense of them, or because Anderson had threatened his authority as leader of the mutiny? Now that she had some emotional remove from the heat of the situation, Geneva had to admit that she could not see Silver veering so quickly from saving her from Hands and insisting that he could not watch her die, to handing them all over to a scabrous gang of malcontents without a second look back. But there remained the fact that Silver’s methods, whatever his motives, were often very hard to tell apart for friend or foe, and there was no reason to think he had been lying about being willing to do whatever it took. He always had, no matter what, and assuredly always would.

The wait dragged on interminably as the sun climbed higher in the sky. Geneva was feeling almost completely dissociated from her body, between hunger, exhaustion, emotional turmoil, anxiety, and everything else, and Woodlawn finally (gold medal for him) allowed her to sit on the hatch cover and have a drink of water. Jim perched protectively near her, as a few of the redcoats likewise seemed rather taken with this pretty, vulnerable-looking young lady, and Geneva couldn’t decide if it was worth the effort to disabuse them. If they thought she was in fragile estate, they could potentially refrain from anything too drastic, but the question remained if Lord Gideon would be fooled. If he ever got bloody back, or if Thomas did. Jesus, could this just get over with, or at least not get any worse? For once?

It was going on noon by the time the young governor finally reappeared, emerging onto the deck of the Hispaniola and crossing over to the Rose, as Geneva’s eyes swept from side to side and noted at once that Thomas was not with him. She barely managed to hold her tongue until Murray had arrived, then blurted out, “Excuse me, where’s my uncle?”

“He’ll be remaining behind for the moment.” Lord Gideon regarded her coolly. “That makes sense, of course, given what he said about your – circumstances?”

Geneva had no idea what Thomas might have told them, and took serious leave to doubt that his detainment had been voluntary. She took a step. “Look, you – ”

“Sir,” Lieutenant Woodlawn interrupted. “Miss Barlow is rather hysteric, you should leave her be for the moment. This scoundrel is of considerably more interest.”

While Geneva was still trying to decide if she should step on Woodlawn’s foot for the hysteria comment, or affect a swoon, or anything, Murray looked over at Silver, who still had several bayonets pointing at him. Something flickered across his face that Geneva decidedly disliked, and he contemplated Silver for a long moment. Then he said, “Correct me if I am mistaken, but am I in fact honored with the presence of the notorious pirate, Long John Silver?”

There was a deeply unpleasant pause, after which Silver seemed to decide that he could hardly deny it. “I do not go by that name presently, but yes.”

“I thought so. That also explains why you attempted to conceal yourself – individuals of your former occupation must not be terribly fond of the sight of redcoats.” Lord Gideon turned to Geneva. “But then, Miss Jones, you knew that too, didn’t you?”

It took a moment for everyone to catch this. Geneva felt a lurch in her stomach as if she had missed several steps going downstairs. “I beg your pardon? My name is Barlow, Miss Elizabeth Barlow, not – ”

“Please.” Murray held up a hand. “I did suspect, but I needed the sight of him to be sure. Your name is Geneva Jones, and your uncle is Thomas Hamilton. Likewise, am I incorrect?”

Geneva opened and shut her mouth like a fish, surely not doing anything to convince Murray of her bona fides. Then suddenly and horribly, she remembered something that Madi and Max had said to her back in Nassau – and which, to judge from the look on Madi’s face, she had also just thought of. “You,” Geneva said. “You were the man that Billy Bones met in Charlestown, who sent him haring across the ocean to England. Weren’t you?”

Murray inclined his head with sarcastic grace. “And you had – your uncle Charles, would it be? Charles Swan – write to David and Mary Margaret Nolan, prominent merchants of the same city, to have them ask who in Charlestown might know something about it. As well as giving details of your situation, and that you had departed aboard your ship, the Rose, in company with John Silver and in hopes of catching up to Mr. Bones. Well? Did you?”

“I met him,” Jim said defiantly. “They didn’t. Him and that mad old witch he’s traveling with, Lady Fiona. She burned down my mother’s inn, by the way. I’m sure of it.”

“Did you?” Murray looked at Jim narrowly. “How interesting. Lady Fiona is – regrettably – my adopted mother, and I have no more reason to wish her success than you must for Bones. But speaking of families, Miss Jones, I have met yours. They were in Charlestown, where they came to visit me, and I engaged them to perform a few small tasks.”

“Why would they help you?”

“Because they might not see your father again if they didn’t.” Murray spun on his heel. “I sent them to Philadelphia, but they slipped through my fingers after that. I knew you still had to be somewhere in the offing, however, and that made you my backup plan. It was simple enough to set sail to where you could be guessed approximately to be, if you were returning from a voyage to England, and hope we crossed paths. This worked better than even I was expecting.”

Geneva continued to stare at him. She wanted to ask what the bloody hell he meant possibly not seeing her father again, until something else occurred to her. That odd encounter after the hurricane, with the ship called the Pan, its cocksure young captain, Rufio, and her inexplicable sense that something was wrong, when she asked him what was in the hold. Just a stubborn ox, my lady. There was no proof, none whatsoever, but – she had sailed past, if that had been Daddy held prisoner, and she had missed her chance to –

Geneva had no idea how to react, as her anger and sense of betrayal at her father’s long-ago actions wrestled with her still-deep love of him, and her fear that her failure might ultimately be the one that kept them from mending fences, rather than his. But there was no way to know where Killian Jones was now, or what had happened to him or any of them. Lord Gideon was clearly not about to let them wander off and find out, and with that, Geneva knew what he wanted. Coolly, she lifted her head. “You want us to take you to Skeleton Island. Since you couldn’t sway Billy to your side, and because you lost my family. Don’t you.”

“I do, yes.” Murray folded his arms and looked at Silver. “I would be correct in thinking that was where you were already bound? And that you, sir, know the coordinates?”

Silver hesitated for a long moment. “Where’s Thomas Hamilton?”

“Aboard the Hispaniola, still – for the moment – an honored guest. That can alter if you displease me.” Murray flushed. “Do you want to wager with his safety?”

“No,” Silver said, after another pause. “No, I very much do not.”

“Well then?” Lord Gideon jerked his head petulantly. “Aren’t you going to cooperate?”

Silver flicked his eyes at the bayonets still hovering a few inches away from him. “It would be difficult for me to do anything in my present situation, Your Excellency.”

Murray made a brusque motion, and the redcoats lowered their muskets. They hastened to grab him by both arms again, however, and force him into a pair of fetters, which Silver rattled sardonically. “Are these necessary? They have, as you see, already deprived me of my leg. Unless the British Army is in the habit of fearing elderly cripples these days?”

“If we were truly to contain the most dangerous part of you, we’d have to put on a muzzle.” Gideon looked at Madi, who had taken an involuntary step forward. “And you, madam, would be Madi Scott, the co-factor of New Providence Island? You will also be coming with me, to discuss the trading arrangements that currently exist between Nassau and Charlestown, and David Nolan’s controlling interests in each. Lieutenant Woodlawn, you’re now the captain of the Rose, congratulations on your promotion. Station your men accordingly, mend any damage, and follow us closely. Mr. Silver will be giving us instructions on the Hispaniola, as to the whereabouts of Skeleton Island. Is that clear?”

Geneva was so incensed she could not speak, although part of her wondered why she was even still surprised. They had been delivered from one mutiny straight into the jaws of another – she had lost control of her ship first to Job Anderson and his frothing dogs, now to Lord Gideon Murray and his infernal redcoats, and that was only part, by the sound of things, of the trap he had cooked up to ensnare her family. But Thomas was a hostage, and she could not under any circumstances endanger his life, so she made herself stand still as Madi and Silver were hauled off onto the Hispaniola. The hell was she going to do, anyway? It was pointless. It was all so fucking pointless.

When we get to Skeleton Island, she thought. I’m bloody killing all of them.

To say the least, the air was tense when Sam and Jack – having been marched back to their cramped berth and locked in by Billy, who shrugged off all Sam’s attempts at conversation with an impervious grunt – had been left alone again. If it was awkward to share a small space with a bloke before, when he had stripped off his shirt, showed you his scars, and told you a horrible story, it was several orders of superlative worse when that selfsame bloke had then grabbed your arse and claimed to be shagging you on the regular, to save your blood from being used for some esoteric Potion of Youth. Sam had long since accepted that he lived a somewhat more eventful life than your average likely lad, but still. This was just rude.

He had thought, with apparently criminally naïve optimism, that even Jack would be forced to talk about what had just happened, but Jack, as ever, did not think he needed to descend to such provincial mortal trivialities. He sat in the chair by the desk, obliging Sam to either crawl back into his bunk or perch on the trunk, and since the bunk was not going to do anything but make him toss and turn some more, he elected for the trunk. His insides were creaking with hunger, especially as the rising sun filtered through the cracks above and he could hear the rest of the ship wakening, but it seemed signally unlikely that a hearty breakfast would be forthcoming – unless Lady Fiona wanted to feed them up like that grisly German fairytale about the witch who ate children, which Sam rather wished he hadn’t thought of. Finally, since it was stare at Jack’s back some more or go mad, he said, “Fucked me over a barrel, was it?”

“Preferable to having your blood sipped for a refreshing aperitif, wasn’t it?” Jack didn’t turn around, so he remained half in shadow, as if cut from black velvet. “Or is this truly about your sense of offended decency?”

“It’s not, it. . .” Sam could feel his cheeks heating. “Look, you make fun of me because I can’t lie to save my life, but you – I’ve been honest with you, all right? I just – ”

“And I haven’t?” At that, Jack did look up, eyes fierce. “I told you that story about my scars – now what? Do you want to know every bad thing that’s ever happened to me?”

“Congratulations,” Sam said. “You’ve told me one bloody thing about your past. Let’s hope the world can keep spinning, after a shock like that.”

Jack looked as if he was about to fire back, then stopped. He braced his hands on his knees, turning the chair with a screech on the worn boards, leaning forward as if he was a runner waiting for the crack of the starting pistol. “What do you want me to say?”

“I have no bloody clue. If I had to guess, though, now you probably point out it was the logical thing to do to save me from Lady Fiona, just like it apparently was with the sailors belowdecks on the Griffin. And who knows, you’re probably right. Since we’ve already established you don’t want to tell me about Charlotte, I’m just curious why that doesn’t – ”

Jack looked back at him, eyes cold and narrow. Finally he said, “The first thing I ever told you about Charlotte was that it was complicated. I don’t owe you anything else.”

“Fine!” Sam shouted. “You don’t owe me! But I’d like to know why you’ll lie to protect me, you’ll claim to be me, you’ll kiss me or act like we’re sleeping together or anything else, you’ll even tell me that story about your scars, and the rest of the time, it’s back to acting as if I’m the scum of the earth! I’m sorry if I can’t presume to the lordly Jack Bellamy’s knowledge or rationale or understanding of things, so I suppose I just have to put up with whatever mood you feel like inflicting on me from day to day! I don’t think you hate me, by the way. I don’t think you do at all. But I could just be imagining things, given the way you told me off on my birthday. Oh yes, and then ran off! And got my best friend killed, more or less!”

He found himself on his feet, taking a few steps (which were all he needed) to close the distance, as Jack stood up sharply as well, raising his arm as if he thought Sam was going to hit him. Sam was aware that this was a not unreasonable conclusion to draw, given as he had done the same thing when Jack had found him in the woods in Barbados, but he was now additionally aware that it was a deeply conditioned instinct, that Jack would in fact expect an angry man to hit him, and that was why he had gotten so good at hitting back. The smallest prickle of shame punctured Sam’s anger, and he took a step away. “Fuck you,” he said, more quietly. “Fine, you don’t have to tell me anything else, ever again. Just tell me that this – whatever you do for me, whatever this is – is actually just what you think is sensible, you don’t like me but don’t want to see me dead, and have it done. That’s all I really expect from you, anyway.”

“I. . .” Jack opened his mouth, shut it, and rubbed his hand over his face. “I’m sorry about Nathaniel. I’m bloody sorry. If I’d had one friend like that as a boy – if I’d had any friend before Charlotte – and someone got them killed like that, I wouldn’t have forgiven them either. I know you’re angry at me for it, and I don’t expect you not to be. But if you could for once – ”

“I’m not asking for the bloody moon! You just – one moment you’re soft to me, almost gentle, you open up, you comfort me. The next, you throw an iron wall in my face and act like I’m the fool for thinking you were ever any different! The world won’t end if you’re honest for a godforsaken minute, but since that’s apparently too difficult – ”

They were almost nose to nose, and Sam was still tempted to give the oaf a good shove into the wall, just to emphasize his point. Or maybe a knee in the balls, that was also a deeply appealing option. But he ended up raising his hand and giving Jack a stupid jab in the shoulder instead, Jack swatted at him, Sam grabbed back, got hold of the collar of that nice new shirt the bastard had made such a meal of putting on, and – he didn’t know what he was going to do, exactly, but it would definitely convey his displeasure. Only Jack wriggled around, and shoved back, and – they didn’t know exactly what the blazes either of them were doing, but one moment it was fighting, and then the next, with no clue on Sam’s part how, it was –

Sam opened his mouth, doubtless intending to say something clever, but as their mouths were presently locked together, and Jack was kissing him practically violently enough to break bones, this did him no good at all. He clawed hold of Jack with both arms, getting them around his shoulders, as they banged noses, bit tongues, bloodied lips, and kept knocking heads every time they tried to turn them to get closer. It was the world’s ugliest kiss, wet and raw and clumsy, as they pulled at each other, got fistfuls of the other’s hair, stumbled backwards against the bunk, and slid down it to the floor in a heap. They rolled over and over, still kissing, until they fetched up against the trunk (there not being much other room to go) and came to a halt, Sam sprawled on top of Jack, breathless and dazzled and drunk. He tried to push himself off, but his arms had turned to water. They just lay there, wheezing.

After a moment, Jack tried to recover enough to speak, which Sam could see no good to come of, and since they were in for a penny, in for a pound, there was not much to be done for it. He bent down and kissed Jack again.

This one was somewhat less like two jousters riding at each other full tilt, but no less vigorous, and they struggled half upright, Jack sitting with his back against the trunk and Sam straddling him, knees to each side of his hips, Jack’s hands sliding up his sides and his own gripping at Jack’s head. They kissed themselves completely breathless, mouths raw and bruised and swollen and marked with teeth, until Sam had no blood north of his heart at all and felt lightheaded enough to float off directly into the ether. He slowly, deliberately unstuck their faces, sweaty hair spilling loose from its queue and waving wildly in his eyes, as Jack raised a dazed hand as if meaning to tuck it back for him. Instead it fell to his side. He said hoarsely, “Jesus.”

That, Sam supposed, was one way of putting it, and considerably more eloquence than he himself could manage at the moment. He recalled Charlotte, and felt a stabbing pang of shame that he had disrespected her like this. That was another thing to attend to when he got off Jack, which he had completely forgotten how to do. He rolled his hips instead, which made both of them groan, and leaned forward, open mouth against Jack’s cheek, their breath hot against the other’s skin as he sucked in short, shallow gasps that did nothing to ease the unbearable constriction in his chest. “You,” he managed, with a feeble poke in Jack’s stomach (with a finger, though for bloody sure other things wanted to poke as well) “are – such – a bastard.”

Jack looked as if all things considered, he couldn’t deny it. His hand had made it to the small of Sam’s back beneath his shirt, spreading on the smooth, unmarked skin, running up the knobs of his spine. Sam shifted, partly in response to this and partly in hopes of easing the strain on said other parts of his anatomy, which really didn’t help. He was still breathing in those whooping gulps, clinging onto sanity by the very edges of his fingernails, and made himself remember that Robert Gold could be in the berth just across the way, listening to everything. That did succeed in deflating some of his. . . ardor, but not all of it. He thought about putting his hands on Jack’s thighs to slide off, but that felt exceedingly dangerous.

Extremely belatedly, Jack also seemed to remember that whether or not he had lied to Lady Fiona about this being a regular feature of their activities, now was not the time to turn it into the truth. He slowly eased upright, sagging back against the trunk, as Sam skidded off his lap and landed with a thunk on the floor, thus making his tailbone the second most throbbing part of him. They both stared up at the ceiling for as long as humanely possible, until Sam said, “So. . . you don’t hate me, then?”

Jack huffed an exasperated-sounding snort. “Don’t push your luck.”

Sam supposed he could swipe at him again, but that seemed liable to end up with more kissing, and that would be detrimental to the whole thing. A small warm ember had somehow ignited in his chest, burning steadily above his heart, until it was quenched by cold reality. “We, ah,” he said, and coughed. “We shouldn’t have. If Charlotte knew that, she’d – ”

“Look, just. . .” Jack finally seemed to have reached his limit on how many questions about his wife he would curtly deflect. “Our arrangement is. . . flexible, all right?”

Sam blinked. He wasn’t quite sure he’d heard correctly, and didn’t want Jack to repeat it, just in case. He did know, of course, that Grandpa, Granny, and Uncle Thomas all lived together, that Granny was married to both of them, and that Grandpa and Uncle Thomas were also partners, but still. He had just assumed that that was something peculiar his family did – another pirate habit that was all well and good for them behind closed doors, but certainly not shared in any way by the outside world. This was likely true, given as Sam had encountered the conflict between his family’s accepting views of sex and those of starched-up colonial polite society before. But if it was possible that Jack wasn’t callously two-timing Charlotte, and that if they lived through this, there might be the slightest chance for a repeat opportunity – no, not that he was thinking of that, he absolutely was not. Not at all. This was purely academic information. Besides, he was still so mixed up and angry and conflicted over Nathaniel and revenge on Gold and whether he blamed Jack for it and how they were going to get out of this and what Lady Fiona might want with them, that there was no real desire to pursue it at the moment. He felt as if they had in fact punched it out (though with some slight differences) and he scrubbed his face with both hands, trying to make any sense whatsoever of the last five minutes. It felt like a very highly colorized dream.

The morning crawled past on turtle feet. Both of them were trying very hard not to look at each other, speak to each other, or acknowledge the other’s existence in any way, and there was still not much to do in the tiny berth. There was a bucket in the corner to piss in, which was about its only amenity, and which Sam held off on using until his eyeballs were floating. There were no books and certainly no important papers left conveniently lying around, and he had no idea where they were going. He was so hungry he almost felt sick. He couldn’t remember the last time he had eaten something of any substance, and his innards were knocking together with a clacking sound. Food had never been a question for him; his parents complained good-naturedly about how much he (and Nathaniel) ate, but they never begrudged it, especially not his father, who remembered all too well growing up in bondage and never having enough. If it ever ran short, all they had to do was drive down the road to Leroy Small the grocer’s, and buy more. Sam could count on his mother cooking breakfast, on a hearty plowman’s lunch packed for school, on cakes or jam tarts or other small treats when he got home, and then roast or potato or soup or sausage or whatever else for supper with his family. He had simply never had to worry this much about where his next meal might be coming from, and it unsettled him.

Jack, of course, gave no indication. He must be much more used to the withholding of food as a punishment, to scraping by and hoarding it in his room and sneaking down to steal it, probably risking another thrashing if he was caught. He had to be hungry too, but he must also be well used to ignoring it, until Sam almost felt jealous. Not of his past, God no, but that Jack seemed, as ever, much better equipped to tough these things out than him. Finally, however, his stomach growled fit to wake the dead, and Jack raised an eyebrow. “Don’t go swooning away, then?”

“Sorry,” Sam muttered, cheeks hot. “I’m hungry.”

“Well,” Jack remarked. “If she wants to drink your blood, I suppose it would be easier to get it from you after she starved you to death. Likely not very healthful, though.”

Sam glared at him. “Was that supposed to be funny?”

Jack raised his hands, as if to say that if gallows humor was their only diversion, so be it. Sam himself was highly tempted to see if Jack’s head could be used as a battering ram, both for personal satisfaction and to break out of here before he went completely raving mental. Maybe that was the point – starve and bore them slowly into insanity, until they gladly agreed to whatever Lady Fiona proposed if she would just let them out. That was quite bad enough, though Sam had expected worse. He tried to calculate in his head. How far could they have gotten from Barbados in a few days? Were they running with or against the great clockwise current of the westerlies? He had no idea. God, he hated sailing.

They managed to get through most of an afternoon of productively ignoring each other– Jack still in the chair, Sam lying on the top bunk, staring at the ceiling, and wondering if he would get thin enough to slip through one of the cracks – until there was finally another knock on the door. “You two. Come with me.”

It was Billy, again, and Sam was so weak and faint with hunger, poor pathetic creature he, that he could not even think of a snappy retort. He tried not to scramble too quickly off the bunk, though he did go briefly dizzy when he sat up, and slid down. Only to catch the seat of his breeches on a snagging nail, plunge, and break his ankle – or would have, if Jack had not adroitly caught him in both arms, de-snagged the nail, and set him on his feet. Sam was fairly sure that the heat of his face could have been glimpsed by the Old Man on the Moon.

The lock rattled, and Billy opened the door, beckoning them brusquely out. Sam saw absolutely no reason not to, and trotted up to Billy’s side as they started above, snapping his fingers under his nose. “Oy. Hey, you. You. You can keep ignoring me all you want, but I won’t shut up. Ask Jack, I’m really good at not shutting up. One of the only things I’m good at, but never mind. Where are we going? Are we there yet? Are you planning to just keep us in the dark like funguses – fungi – whatever the whole bloody time? Until your sodding maniac of a boss decides it’s time to off us, is that it? What about – ”

“Be quiet.” Billy thrust aside the hatch and pulled Sam through it, into the cool blue-gold evening air. Jack climbed out after them, with a cocked eyebrow as if to say if Billy could succeed where he had failed, he would be very surprised. “Lady Fiona is waiting for you, so – ”

“Oh, now we’re getting back to the blood-drinking bit, are we?” Sam stayed light on his feet (very light, he might crumple up and blow away with a good gust) and stared at Billy. “You know, I think I’ve figured out something about you. You just like to serve someone, it doesn’t really matter who, and when you are, you won’t think about anything else they might be doing. Then you do think about it, and go mad trying to destroy them for whatever bloody reason that is. First it was my – Captain Flint, and then you turned on him. Then you went to Woodes Rogers and sold the pirates out, and ended up stuck on Skeleton Island for your trouble. Then you found your way to Gold, made a deal with him, and then turned on him. Finally, you’ve ended up with Fiona ‘Nuttier Than Squirrel Poo’ Murray, whom presumably you will also turn on once you realize she has been a Bad Person. I could really speed that process up for you. Here: she’s terrible. Help us escape, in – I don’t know, a longboat or something, you and Jack could row, we’d steal provisions. You could still redeem yourself and do something worthwhile. Get me back home, and my family would forgive everything else.”

Billy regarded him impassively. But for a moment, he seemed almost about to answer – to justify himself, perhaps, to explain why he believed that destroying Flint was the only path remaining for him to have peace in his life, and Sam felt an odd, cold shiver. He knew just then that he did not want to end up like Billy, so fixated on eradicating one man that he couldn’t hear or accept reason at all, who was self-aware enough to know that he was proceeding down a dark path, but so stubborn and self-righteous that he felt it must be justified in the name of combating a darker evil. And by that system, in small steps and slippery slopes, he had gone from Flint to Rogers to Gold to Lady Fiona – each time, serving an objectively worse master in the name of revenge on the one before it. That’s no way to live. That’s no way to even exist.

“Your grandfather,” Billy said abruptly. “If, for the sake of argument, I was to agree to this half-baked proposition of yours, help you and Bellamy escape. Then I walk in with the pair of you, and see him. Is he going to shake my hand, thank me for my service, say we should call it fair and go our own ways? Or is he going to shoot me on the spot, now that he has me there, in sight, and can settle it once and for all?”

Sam opened his mouth, then shut it. He knew his grandfather could, to say the least, be of a similarly vengeful temperament – any family with Captain Flint and Captain Hook in its branches could not be unfamiliar with its corroding influence. But surely, if Billy brought him home safe, Mum and Granny would prevail on Grandpa to forgive and let him go. Surely.

There remained, however, that pervasive small kernel of doubt. Flint and Billy had both been left behind on Skeleton Island, stranded and alone for months, and their lives forever changed as a result, but it was only Billy’s that had been destroyed. That, Sam felt, was as much down to his own choices as anything, but Flint had gotten the world back, a family, a home, a happy ending, and Billy had not. He had been dangerous before, and this made him more so, and James Flint was not in the habit of leaving alive those who had threatened or harmed his loved ones. It was possible that even if Billy brought Sam back, Flint would not consider the ledger wiped clean, and would not call off the hunt. Sam wanted to lie, to say that there would be absolution and gratitude no matter what, but the words got stuck.

Billy seemed to sense the answer nonetheless. A dark shadow passed over his face, and if there had been any chance of reaching him, of changing his mind, Sam felt it wither to dust in his hands. Billy turned away. “Come on,” he ordered. “She’s waiting.”

Stomach leaden, knowing that had been his last shot and he had missed it, Sam trailed after him into the cabin, half-expecting to see some diabolical alchemical setup with smoking crucibles and bubbling cauldrons or God knew whatever else. As such, he was almost relieved (deeply so, in fact) to realize that it was a dinner table, spread with an assortment of savory-looking dishes that immediately made his mouth water. Lady Fiona was sitting behind it in her sinister sartorial best: a low-cut black gown trimmed with sparkling onyx, and a jeweled hairpiece with a black ostrich feather pinned in her bouffant updo. “Good evening, boys,” she said sweetly. “You must be very hungry, mustn’t you?”

“We’re not,” Sam said, as his stomach once more growled like the volcano about to bury Pompeii of old. He had identified a decided problem in this apparently generous offer. “Not for whatever poisoned slop you’d be feeding us.”

“Poison?” Lady Fiona raised a heavily plucked and penciled eyebrow. “Is that what you think?”

“Actually,” Sam said. “Yes.”

Lady Fiona shrugged, poured herself a cup of wine, and took a drink. Then she cut a bit off the gleaming leg of roast chicken and nibbled it daintily off the end of a golden fork, watching Sam pointedly the whole time. When this did not occasion her dramatic death, and Sam still didn’t move, she shrugged. “Bones, take them below. Apparently they’re not hungry.”

“I… wait.” Sam would have been willing to do a great deal to avoid another slow, starving day and night in the tiny berth with just ignoring Jack for entertainment. He was aware that plying a prisoner with food and drink in hopes of getting them to talk was an old interrogation trick, but at least if he knew she was trying it, that had to be worth something, didn’t it? He was so bloody, bloody hungry, and if she was going to kill them, which was extremely likely, at least he would not die on an empty stomach. “Fine. Fine.”

Lady Fiona beckoned them to sit in the two empty chairs across from her, and once more nodded for Billy to depart. Once they had, eyeing her with extreme dubiousness, she waved a magisterial hand at the table. “Help yourself. I doubt my brother fed you bountifully, now did he?”

“Your brother’s a git,” Sam said. “Runs in the family.”

Lady Fiona laughed, apparently not at all disconcerted. “Believe me, I know. Robert is quite a troublesome fiend, isn’t he? He always has been. I heard what happened to your little friend, by the by. That must have been very awful.”

Sam meant to answer, but his throat had closed up. He looked down, mastering himself, then checked what was already on her plate and served himself only from those dishes, as Jack paused, then followed suit. He didn’t much like the taste of wine, but there was nothing else to drink, so he poured a cup from the same decanter that she had earlier. Obviously there was some sort of twist or catch or whatever else, but the first bite of warm herbed chicken and steaming fresh bread with butter almost brought tears to his eyes. He munched warily, trying not to inhale it all at once, on high alert for any symptoms of abrupt and unpleasant death, but for better or worse, didn’t think she’d poisoned it. He was probably too much bloody fun to play with first.

“So,” Lady Fiona said after a few moments, seemingly when she had a chance of getting a semi-human response. “Do you want to kill my brother, young Samuel?”

Sam’s mouth was still full, so he swallowed first, feeling it undignified to spray crumbs. “And why would you let me do that?”

“Why not?” She shrugged. “I don’t have any personal need to accomplish his death myself, and fratricide is rather unstylish. However, I need information on his network first, all the branches of this new society he’s built, his contacts and his influences and his acquaintances. Robert has always been very thorough when it comes to that sort of thing. I want to use his system, simple as that, and it will be easier to do it without him around to compete with me. He of course knows this, and that I need him alive until he talks, which I think even he will do, eventually. Especially if he meets his son, or rather my son. Lord Gideon Murray, he’s a fine young man, and he absolutely hates his father. I made quite sure of that.”

Sam took another bite of chicken, rather than answer too fast. He hated Gold, no doubt of that, but if there was anything worse than Gold running this secret murder society of his, it was Lady Fiona running it. He couldn’t help but feeling, again, just that tiny (very tiny) bit sorry for Gold, who was obsessed with power past all sense and had done many terrible things to many people, but at least had some crumb of human feeling and sentiment, some possibility of attachment or remorse. Lady Fiona, so far as Sam could tell, had no soul at all.

Jack, meanwhile, had an odd look on his face, as might be expected from this talk of sons hating their fathers, of being willing to destroy them for their crimes. He lifted his cup of wine to his lips, then put it back down. With considerably affected casualness, he said, “Would you happen to know if a Captain Jonathan Howe is part of this network of your brother’s? Last the commander of HMS Eagle, out of London.”

Sam shot him a sharp look, which he could see Jack pretending not to notice. Lady Fiona, for her part, tapped her fingers speculatively on the table. “The name seems somewhat familiar, yes. I am sure I could arrange to find out more. Are you interested in doing business with me, Mr. Bellamy? You would, of course, be most welcome.”

Since looks did not appear to be working, Sam kicked Jack under the table, hard. Aye, Howe needed to get very dead, and promptly with it, but he was far from sure that making a deal with the devil was the way to go about it. Even he, much as he still wanted revenge on Gold, wasn’t about to leap for the serpent’s apple that Lady Fiona was temptingly dangling. Jack wasn’t stupid, he could see she was bad bloody news, and would snap him up the instant he ceased to be useful. Right? Right?

The silence was taut and tenuous. Then Jack smiled. “I am interested, Lady Fiona,” he said. “Very much. Shall we be allies? It is a considerably more agreeable situation than prisoners.”

“It is.” Lady Fiona was practically purring, leaning across the table and giving Jack an excellent view down the front of her dress, stroking his wrist, as Sam thought he might vomit in his mouth. Then she straightened up and turned to him. “Well, Mr. Jones? Do you intend to join us?”

Sam hesitated. He could feel Jack’s eyes on him, and couldn’t be sure if this was just a ploy to get Lady Fiona on their side and inclined to treat them better for the rest of the trip, or if Jack was genuinely willing to work with her to get a shot at his father. After hearing that story, he couldn’t blame Jack, had no right to judge him, but –

But.

“I’m sorry,” Sam said. His voice sounded thin and shaky, so he swallowed and tried again. “I’m sorry, both of you. But I’m not going along with it.”

“Aren’t you?” Lady Fiona considered him shrewdly. “So you don’t want to make my brother pay for what he did to your friend? That does surprise me.”

“Yes,” Sam said. “Yes, I bloody do. But I don’t want to end up like Billy Bones, revenge has already done enough damage to my family, and if I do get it, it isn’t going to be through selling my soul to you. And there’s nothing you can say about me not caring for Nathaniel as much as I thought I did to guilt-trip me otherwise. He was my friend, my best friend, and I’m going to miss him for the rest of my life, probably. Gold and Jack and the soldier who shot him are all responsible, maybe, in some way. But you know who’s the most to blame for it? Me. I’m the one who got him killed. Took him along on this adventure and thought I’d always be able to get us out of it, and I didn’t. And playing your game isn’t going to change anything about that.”

Lady Fiona’s eyebrows arched again, as if almost impressed at this display of forthcoming honesty – aye, it must be a rarity around her. “Oh, I believe you,” she said. “I quite suspected that ill-advised streak of nobility was going to resurface, in fact, so all we have to do is – ah. That worked quite well, didn’t it?”

There was a soft thud from next to Sam, and he spun in his chair to see Jack topple face-first into the table, just missing his plate. Sam stared at him, thinking he’d somehow managed to fall asleep, then suddenly was afraid he’d had an apoplexy. He reached out, gripping Jack’s shoulder and shaking him hard, but there was no response. “Hey. Hey! Jack! Jack. Jack. Jack!”

“He won’t wake,” Lady Fiona said. “I only gave him a small dose, as I didn’t want him interfering if you decided to be difficult. I gave you a bit as well, so I wouldn’t move too quickly if I were you. Might make the world go quite topsy-turvy. If you aren’t going to help me, and you don’t want to kill my brother – well, I could sell you back to your family, it’s true. But I don’t need the money, and it would set a bad example. Besides, when you refused me your blood, you did make me think of another recipe I’ve been wanting to try. The tonic works tolerably well at keeping me young, but I do have to continue taking it. If there was a solution to solve it permanently, or at least for several years – well, I might not have to kill quite so many boys, and I do get rather fond of them. So you see, sweetheart? You can still be useful after all.”

Sam jerked back from the table and tried to stand up, but just as she had warned, his legs had unaccountably turned to wet sand, and he staggered, clutching at the tablecloth and pulling it half off. His chest felt as if it had been filled with hot mud, stealing up behind his eyes. Whatever Lady Fiona had dosed him with, however she had done it, it was undeniably potent. “What?” he croaked. “What the hell are you going to do, eat my heart?”

“Oh, do you know some of the occulted arts?” Lady Fiona seemed amused. “That is in fact what I am going to do, yes, once I’ve brewed the proper potion. That should keep me in youth for at least several years, rid me of the disagreeable business of draining the boys for blood so often, and perhaps I can find a proper philosopher’s stone and do one better. I am sure Jack will regret your passing, but I will tell him some heroic story to soothe his consciousness about continuing to work with me. So.” She reached for the folded napkin next to her, flipped it over, and pulled out a black-hilted dagger, honed to a lethally sharp edge, glittering in the candlelight. “This will hurt much less if you don’t struggle.”

Sam backed away. The chair caught him painfully behind the knees, sending him stumbling, as he tried to recollect enough control of his drugged limbs to search the cabin for a weapon. He reached out, fingers clumsily batting Jack’s shoulder, but he was dead to the world. “Wake up!” Jack had protected him from the start of this adventure, however grumpily or reluctantly or unusually. From Da Souza, then the ocean, then Lieutenant Warwick and Matthew Rogers and the bo’sun on the Griffin, then Gold, then Lady Fiona earlier. Always had, and without him, Sam felt suddenly and terrifyingly vulnerable. “Jack! Wake up!”

“I told you,” Lady Fiona said. “He won’t.”

With that, she lunged at him, much quicker than one would expect for an eighty-year-old lady in long skirts, as Sam caught her wrists and forced them away from his face. He was taller than her, and probably in the ordinary course of things stronger, but she was some evil alchemy vodou witch and he was quite thoroughly foxed on whatever vile compound she’d managed to slip into the dinner. There was only one chance, and that chance was terrible. “Billy!” It came out choked, because Lady Fiona had managed to clamp one bony hand around his throat, and he was starting to see spots. Nonetheless, he struggled to get enough air into his straining lungs to try again. “BILLY! BLOODY HELL! BILLY!”

“He won’t help you.” Lady Fiona’s eyes were almost completely black. “Not when he knows his revenge on Flint is what I can give him – and aye, his revenge on my brother. Not everyone is so noble as you, to pass it up. So I’m afraid, young Samuel, you’re out of allies. Just you. And you’ve never been enough, have you? Always needed someone else to save you. Well, if it’s any comfort, now you’ll save me. I do appreciate it. Good night, sweet prince.”

She stabbed at him again, as Sam clumsily knocked it aside, but not far enough. He was aware of a distant, disconnected pain, observed the slash in his forearm and the slow, sludgy trickle of blood from it, but it barely seemed real. Then the world was cartwheeling out from under him, he was falling, and she was above him, like a ravening dark shadow, a carrion bird with black wings outstretched. Tore his shirt aside over his heart, and raised the blade –

– was that someone shouting? It wasn’t Jack, Jack was still unconscious, and Billy wasn’t coming, nobody was coming –

Then the dagger bit into his chest, hard and sharp and cold, and Sam Jones screamed.

#captain swan #cs ff #cs au #cs next gen #the rose and thorn #treasure island #black sails

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