untitled Barbossa drabble
This fic is rated: PG
Fandom: Pirates of the Caribbean
Characters: Hector Barbossa, mention of Tia Dalma
Prompt: gratefuldread asked for perhaps a "cold shower"-type of Barbossa fic I hope I'm in the right neighborhood, at least?
Spoilers: we all know he comes back from the dead by now, don't we?
Word Count: 100
Feedback: yes, please! Concrit welcomed.
Distribution: archiving, linking or remixing ok, just credit me and drop me a line!
Cross-Posted were_lemur, pirategasm, potc_fic, potc100, potc_canon_fic, barbossa_fic, whore4hector
My FanFic Masterlist
Disclaimer: PotC belongs to Disney. Characters will be played with nicely and returned to them in good condition when I'm done. No infringement is intended, please don't sue me!
As soon as he's steady on his feet, Barbossa takes the slimy, foul-smelling stuff that Miss Dalma uses for soap and tromps upstream until he finds a waterfall.
He has to peel his shirt, crusted with blood, from his chest.
He scrubs angrily at the dried blood that surrounds the still-tender scar where Jack killed him. The soap doesn't lather well, but it does the job; when he pours water over his chest, it comes away clean.
It takes all the soap in the jar, but when he finally stands beneath the cool waterfall, he feels his death wash away.
Fandom: Pirates of the Caribbean
Characters: Hector Barbossa, mention of Tia Dalma
Prompt: gratefuldread asked for perhaps a "cold shower"-type of Barbossa fic I hope I'm in the right neighborhood, at least?
Spoilers: we all know he comes back from the dead by now, don't we?
Word Count: 100
Feedback: yes, please! Concrit welcomed.
Distribution: archiving, linking or remixing ok, just credit me and drop me a line!
Cross-Posted were_lemur, pirategasm, potc_fic, potc100, potc_canon_fic, barbossa_fic, whore4hector
My FanFic Masterlist
Disclaimer: PotC belongs to Disney. Characters will be played with nicely and returned to them in good condition when I'm done. No infringement is intended, please don't sue me!
As soon as he's steady on his feet, Barbossa takes the slimy, foul-smelling stuff that Miss Dalma uses for soap and tromps upstream until he finds a waterfall.
He has to peel his shirt, crusted with blood, from his chest.
He scrubs angrily at the dried blood that surrounds the still-tender scar where Jack killed him. The soap doesn't lather well, but it does the job; when he pours water over his chest, it comes away clean.
It takes all the soap in the jar, but when he finally stands beneath the cool waterfall, he feels his death wash away.