Rise Up, Oh Heart, For There is Another Battle to Win

dignifiedrice asked: Will/Elizabeth, "Steps Leading Into the Sea"

wildehacked:

The Ao3 Summary: Seventeen years of marriage. 

The Actual Summary: A series of vignettes, focusing on Will and Elizabeth making their supernatural long-distance relationship work, + life/death circumstances. 

It would feature: 
-Elizabeth murdering a man, tying his corpse to her rowboat, and then placidly waiting for Will to show up
-while heavily pregnant
-Elizabeth dropping actual messages in bottles into the sea, but weighting the bottles down with something heavy, so they sink instead of bob.
-Will can’t send the bottles back, but shell-shocked survivors of wrecks at sea often seek Elizabeth out after being rescued, drawing thick letters wrapped in oilskin out of their coats and pressing them, terrified, into her hands
-In this way Will and Elizabeth conduct a passionate, piecemeal argument about whether Henry should be allowed to go to school in England, as he begs to, or whether he should stay away from that godforsaken country where Will has no jurisdiction, and therefore cannot save his life at sea/check up on him/see him, and anyway isn’t Elizabeth building Libertalia, hasn’t the British Navy set a sizable price on her head? Why would she want him to live in that awful place anyway, and Elizabeth would fiercely argue that her aunt Mary is a perfectly trustworthy person, it’s not like she’d be sending Henry to strangers, and also she is trying to build Libertalia and it requires an awful lot of goddamn bloodshed and it’s really no place for a twelve year old, so why not let him do what he wants and get an education???? etc. 
-Henry learns the tie-a-bag-of-rocks-to-your-feet-and-hope-for-the-best trick from Elizabeth
-Jack and Elizabeth stay on friendly terms while Henry is a baby. Jack and Will stay on friendly terms while Henry is a baby. Only then Jack gets into a scrape and tries to use his relationship with Will as leverage, and it doesn’t work because Will has a sacred duty, and Jack makes an aborted attempt to steal Will’s heart which Elizabeth never forgives, and Will ends up bailing him out of the scrape and thereby somewhat neglecting his duty anyway, which is part of why he’s all barnacley at the beginning of the movie, and Elizabeth never forgives that, either. 
-Mostly though I want Jack to kiss Elizabeth, and for it to mean something, because the Turners are definitely in a casual friends-with-benefits-but-maybe-there’s-something-else-there relationship with Jack Sparrow, and then for Jack to steal the key to the dead man’s chest from where it hangs around her heart, and for Elizabeth to shoot him for it, when she finds out. There’s a pink knotted mess of scar tissue on Jack’s left shoulder, just above his heart, courtesy of Lizzy. 
-probably other stuff involving Norrington, who is first mate on the Dutchman and who starts off pining for Elizabeth and then gradually starts pining for Will, too
-probably Henry falls overboard as a toddler, and between one swell and the next he’s picked up by a bright-eyed woman with a wicked smile, a woman who comes from seemingly nowhere, and she laughs at him and presses a kiss to his forehead before handing him up from the waves to his mother, who looks dead panicked, like he’s never seen her before
-this is the plot of five fics, not one
-it’s because this is just the AU I’ve been building in my head since 2007
-and there’s enough basic material here for six seasons and a movie

Announcement

sparrabeth:

words-writ-in-starlight:

I am watching Curse of the Black Pearl, and I am still super fucking committed to Elizabeth Swann, she of the wild eyes and voice like Damascus steel and hungry heart of a pirate.  

#god i love elizabeth swann#best beloved and most feared#the girl with the hurricane in her veins and the glare of sun-on-sea in her eyes#homeless and wild and untamed as an albatross#norrington and jack and will are all so in love with her in their ways#norrington who loves her well-heeled mask first and then discovers (to his horror) that he loves her iron strength even better#jack who loves her as distractedly and madly as he loves the pearl#loves what she is to him: freedom and fire and wind in his sails and the glitter of stars on the horizon#and will who loves her flashes of aching gentleness#who was her possession from the first moment she said she was watching over him and learned that he loved her unbreakable grip#and elizabeth…elizabeth is in love with them all a little bit but she’s more in love with the sea and the sky and blood on her lips#with calypso and her wildness and her hunger and her cruelty#elizabeth doesn’t think of what she feels for those men as love#she thinks of it as claiming#they are hers and elizabeth is the pirate king and beloved of the sea#and she takes what she wants and gives nothing back#and she is stubborn and selfish and not sorry#i love her so much

memes-and-musicals:

musicalhell:

necrotelecomnicon:

prokopetz:

silver-tongues-blog:

prokopetz:

stumblngrumbl:

prokopetz:

amalgarn:

radicaltrains:

the funniest thing in the entire pirates of the caribbean series is definitely that one scene in At World’s End where they have parlay but davy jones is part of it, and rather than have him stand in the shallows or something they get a big bucket of water and have in stand on it on shore

who thought of that idea? who thought “put davy jones in a bucket of water” and had the guts to suggest it aloud? and then who went “hey that sounds like a great idea!”

at some point someone told davy jones their idea was for him to stand in a bucket of water and he agreed to it

ok but notice the trail of buckets behind him meaning he walked from the ocean through three other buckets of water before he got into the one hes standing in

It’s even funnier when you consider how he must have figured all this out in the first place.

Some folks are asking “well, if he can avoid the no-dry-land curse simply by standing in a bucket, doesn’t that ruin his whole motivation?”, but he’s not on dry land here.

The parley takes place on a sandbar - which, for the unfamiliar, is a temporary “island” of sand deposited by breaking waves, unconnected with the shore, that spends most of its time submerged, being exposed only at low tide.

What Jones is doing here is rules-lawyering his curse. Can you imagine the trial and error he must have gone through in order to determine that this would actually work?

“Okay, do islands count as dry land? How about parts of the shore below the high tide mark? Reefs? Shoals? What if I stand in a pool of water on a shoal? Does it have to be seawater, or will any water do? Does it have to be a natural tidepool, or can it be something artificial, like a bucket?”

What I am saying is that there must have been a process.

Pretty sure that this implies that the reverse - a bucket of sand, floating on the water (big bucket with just a bit of sand), would qualify as dry land. That’s absurd, so I’m pretty sure that his lawyer pulled a fast one over the curse governor.

It may be absurd, but the text of the film bears it out. Davy Jones can sense the presence of his heart while it’s at sea, but not while it’s on land (indeed, that’s why he buried it on land in the first place: to break his connection with it) - yet placing the heart in a simple jar of dirt conceals it from Jones’ awareness just as surely as burial on land does, even if the jar is on a boat at the time. Suitably prepared vessels filled with dirt absolutely count as dry land for the purpose of Jones’ curse.

Then the reverse should also be true. If he buried it in a jar of water, no matter how far inland it is, he would be able to sense it. So by this logic, any container of seawater counts as not dry land, ergo, the bucket is a perfectly viable loophole.

Not necessarily. It’s traditionally a lot easier to accidentally get whammied by a curse than it is to weasel around it - I figure that’s why he’s using multiple layers of indirection here. He’s forbidden to set foot on dry land, but it’s technically not dry land (it’s a sandbar, a non-permanent landform exposed only at low tide) and he technically didn’t set foot on it (he’s standing in a bucket of water). It’s entirely possible that either one of those things alone wouldn’t make the grade.

okay but this all raises one further, very important question: if it’s specifically “dry land” he’s forbidden from, what about wetlands.

can Davy Jones fight you in salt marshes? can he throw down in a peat bog?Swamp Battle?

This is the quality content I come to Tumblr for.

could he step on land if his shoes are wet?

(Source: bootslots, via primarybufferpanel)

Anonymous asked: Your PoC post just reignited my desire for Les Mis pirate fic; also Elizabeth Swann is my favorite character in the entire series

Okay, first of all, liking Elizabeth Baddest-Ass-Sailing-The-Seven-Seas Swann best is an indication of exceptional taste, I approve, you go.  Second of all, it’s way too one-in-the-morning for me to write actual fic, but I’m gonna cast the fuck out of a pirate AU, because motherfucking pirates.

• Enjolras: the captain, of course, of the buccaneer ship Abaisse.  It’s small, easily crewed by half a dozen in a real pinch, and as long as no one takes any injuries their little crew does pretty well.  Abaisse–or ABC, as they affectionately call her–is a whip-quick little boat, too, their attack method to strike like lightning and raid even the biggest merchant ship in minutes.  Enjolras was the son of a wealthy merchant–he bought Abaisse with the last of his own money, after he left in a rage upon discovering that his father’s lucrative new business venture was based on human cargo.  Abaisse’s first strike was on one of his father’s merchant ships, crossing the ocean to bring slaves to the New World–her crew took the ship like a hurricane and earned themselves the nickname Les Amis, after they turned the ship over to the captured men and women.
  

Keep reading

Thoughts on Soulmates in PotC

OKAY, so, I have an overwhelming need for soulmate AU’s of every-damn-thing and a love for Elizabeth Swann that burns like fucking Greek fire, so of course we were going to end up here eventually.  

• There are three people in the world who could be Elizabeth Swann’s soulmate.  Depending on your AU of choice, these are the three people who see color when they meet her or have her name or first words printed on their skin or what have you.  All of them are in love with her.
  
• Commodore James Norrington knew when he was a teenaged, freshly-minted Navy officer, meeting a nine-year-old girl with solemn eyes and a pretty, lilting voice, that he was going to love her.  When she was seventeen he was in love with the coiffed, well-heeled mask she wore, completely gone on her.  He was horror-stricken to find that he loved the steely, vicious creature of sea and storm underneath even more.  If he has a mark, it rings his wrists like cuffs, because for all that he might love her, James isn’t a pirate at heart, and being chained to one kills him as sure as a sword.
• Will Turner loves the flashes of gentleness through her fire-bright shell, the way she always sounds startled when she laughs, the way she holds his face in her hands–gentle, like he’s made of crystal, but hard and immovable as steel.  Will’s mark, if this is a universe with marks, lies like a necklace at his throat, close to the curve of his neck.  He thought of it as a necklace, before he met her, before he knew her well.  Now he thinks of it as a collar, a mark of ownership–he is Elizabeth’s, full stop, hers to keep, and he has come to love being kept by her.
• Captain Jack Sparrow loves the heart of her, as hungry and dangerous as a fire at sea, loves her for the glint of lust in her eye when she looks at a fine ship or a sharp sword or a gold ring, or Will or James or Jack–the glint of wanting, of greed, of that is mine and I shall have it.  When he looks back on it, remembering, he thinks that he fell in love with her when she burned the rum, and the flame in her eyes was brighter than the flame on the sand.  His mark, if such exists, stretches across his shoulders, like wings, like lash marks, like a weight that makes free.
• Elizabeth cares for them all, loves them all in a way, but none of them can be everything to her, the way a soulmate is supposed to be.  None of them is the world entire, none of them is the ocean from horizon to horizon, and nothing less will satisfy her.
• Elizabeth has no mark, if this is a world with marks.  Or perhaps she does–a skull and crossbones, a coiling ocean current, the brand of a pirate, the words ‘Gentlemen, hoist the colors’ in bold black letters across her fair skin.  
• If this is a world where your soulmate’s touch stains your skin with colors, the three men are splashed with cerulean, azure-emerald-silver, and Elizabeth’s skin is clear.  Until she faints over the edge of a cliff and plunges into the ocean below, and she is drawn out with her skin swirled with ocean-blue, coiling down her limbs and over her heart, arching over her cheeks and around her eyes.
• If this is a world where you see color when you meet your soulmate, she grows up with it, and the colors always flare brightest when she stands at the bow of a ship and looks toward the horizon, where the water and the sky kiss.
• (There is a fourth soulmate for Elizabeth Swann, a fourth body stamped with a simple name, no matter the universe.  This one, perhaps, is the truest soulmate.  Tia Dalma, Calypso, Oceana, the queen bound in her bones, wears the name on her mortal form, and whenever Elizabeth steps onto the deck of a ship, the woman-goddess smiles, slow and secret.)
  
• (Every queen must have a king, after all.  And Dalma-Calypso-Oceana is proud of her king, straight and proud and fierce as a sword of folded steel.  She loves her king like a hurricane loves a ship, like her king loves her lovers, hungry and desirous.  Her love is blessing and curse by turns–her king’s ship has sweet winds and raging storms, blazes into Navy flotillas and skates away by a finger’s length.  Her king stands in the winds and laughs and laughs, fierce and wild and free, and so, so in love.)

Announcement

I am watching Curse of the Black Pearl, and I am still super fucking committed to Elizabeth Swann, she of the wild eyes and voice like Damascus steel and hungry heart of a pirate.  

Anonymous asked: Honestly the thought alone of one day being able to read a fic about Elizabeth that's written by you is a blessing and will keep my heart warm

Oh my God you’re too nice.  Trust me, I too want to read a fic written by me about Elizabeth Swann, but I have no ideas that aren’t five pages of caps-lock-littered weeping about Elizabeth as the Pirate King, who keeps her bargain with the magic of the Dutchman by carrying the earth in a tiny glass vial around her neck, and who goes out and rages over the seas with her ships like a hurricane, and who raises her child on the waves as free and wild as a tern, and who crosses paths with Jack Sparrow and wreaks havoc and kisses him on the cheek and grins wickedly every time, and who catches men close when she kills them, slides a blade into their heart and a letter into their pocket and whispers in their ear “Take this message to my husband, dear sailor.”

I mean…that is what I would have to say.  Pretty much incoherent and plotless.  It would all be messages in dead-men-as-bottles, children raised to crawl the rigging of ships and charge wildly into trouble, and Elizabeth over it all, Pirate King and old friend of Calypso and wife of the Dutchman’s captain and comrade/sister/rival/unattainable love of Captain Jack Sparrow, she who is beloved of the sea.

If that appeals, hit me up with a prompt and I will deliver.