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astranauticus · 9 months

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not sure if this counts as an AU but.. thinking about the Per Aspera crew as horror game bosses like.. you are wandering through a forested mountain range and you know somethings wrong because the forest shouldn't be this eerily silent, this devoid of life, and then you hear the crash of falling trees and there is a hand that is half your size glowing golden in the night and it is grabbing you and its claws are digging into your flesh and you see the spines running down the golden arm that is far too long as it lifts you over a crater in mountain, over a coiled, serpentine thing with a visage that is not of this world, and if you look closely you can see the shape of a child curled at the centre of the thing, golden hair reflecting the glow of the creature and if you listen closely you can hear her sobbing, 'Don't hurt me, I don't want to do this'. you are sailing through the astral sea when you see an ephemeral, resplendent spelljammer cutting through the starry waters and you rejoice because you have been lost on the seas for so so long, so you board the ship looking for help, supplies, anything, and you are greeted by a blue fire genasi (you wonder, do those even exist? but you can't get off the ship now because where else will you go?) and she tells you she is the captain of this ship but as far as you can tell there is no crew on board, and if she is not appearing right behind you from a trapdoor you've never noticed she is always in the engine room 'fixing the ship' even though the ship seems to be sailing perfectly fine ('Where are we going?' you ask her once and she doesn't even turn to look at you, 'Don't worry about it') and if you are ever so unlucky as to damage the ship in any way, you begin to catch flashes of red and orange out of the corner of your eye, a fire genasi wearing the woman's face who whispers at you with hollow, angry eyes 'Don't you fucking dare hurt my ship'. you are sailing through the astral sea when you see a rotting, decaying spelljammer, so badly damaged it's barely moving although you have to wonder how it's even staying afloat at all, and out of some morbid curiosity you climb on board and the deck of the ship is in no better shape than the hull, the marks of hard-fought battle - scars in the wood from sharp blades and arcane energies, stains of blood and oil splattered about - still fresh but you know time doesn't pass on the astral sea so who knows how long ago this all took place, and as you climb below decks you start to notice the writings on the walls, pieces of parchment nailed to every surface and connected with fraying, rotting threads, or words etched directly into the wood, the deep gouges barely readable, and you start to hear the creaking and clanking of rusted machinery slowly moving about and you turn a corner to see a figure standing in a room facing the wall, slowly scratching yet more of that unintelligible writing into the bones of the ship, and it turns as the rusted dented mechanite stares at you with eyes ablaze and he asks 'Who are you? Where is my crew?' as sparks of arcane lightning begins to arc through the room. you are running through a feywild forest and you know, even without the figure chasing you, that you have made a horrible mistake, you should have known better, should have been more careful, should have kept your impulses in check, and now you are being chased through an unfamiliar forest and the figure, the Hunter pursuing you knows this realm like the back of his hand, knows every tree and shrub and vine that is slithering up to grasp at your ankles, and you glance back desperately to catch any glimpse of your pursuer but there is no pursuer, he has hidden himself with some arcane trick or some innate power or just the knowledge that this realm is his home, and you hear his voice even though you cannot see him as he cries out 'You should not have hurt my family. Prepare to face the Hunter of Hundkiln'

sorry no Vhas yet maybe I'll update with one for him once we get more of his whole deal

#rolling with difficulty #asto speaks #well i lied only kyana's and finbar's really work as video game bossfights #dani's is more... horror short story? vr-la's is horror comic #bc dani's much more psychological and the environmental storytelling of vr-la's one would be pretty interesting.. probably #in hindsight vr-la's reads like it could be a magnus archive entry LMAO #contrary to whatever you may think (especially if youre in the discord) i dont actually like most horror #like i've only listened to abt ~10 episodes of tma bc it started fucking up my sleep thats how much of a wuss i am #like i dont actually *enjoy* horror but idk i had so much fun writing this. for some reason #hell i dont even enjoy *writing* most of the time #all the others are kinda based on a specific scenario like kyana's is if she never left the cenobium and suvi snapped before she did #(if you've watched/read jjk0 video game bossfight suvi is very much just orimoto rika)#vr-la's and finbar's are pretty self evident #dani's is kinda.. inspired by alfonso of the stultifera navis making this my second rwd brainworm that's just an arknights reference #captains that are cursed to haunt their empty ships plagued with has beens and could have beens #(her one is the only one absolutely not meant to be read as literal btw its a very 'that house has been empty for 40 years' kinda vibe)#found it kinda funny that dani's and vrla's start in very similar ways bc they both kinda have that i am the ship and the ship is me thing #dani's vibe in this is just more illusions and delusions and vrla's is more decaying forgotten grief #a ghost of a mechanite haunting a corpse of a ship

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bowiebond · 6 years

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Harry x Fem!Reader - Horns Like A Devil

Requested: Nah, I just thought it up whil listening to Horns by Bryce Fox.

A/N: I know third person POV in reader fics isn’t exactly common, but I really wanted it to be Harry falling for the BAMF and villainous af!reader first, so I made it this way. Even though the reader is Mal’s twin, they don’t look alike really, so don’t worry about imagining yourself looking like Mal. Just imagine yourself wearing red and black, with horns like Maleficent. ENJOY

Warning: Light violence, heavy implication towards NSFW topics/making out.

~~~ The first time he sees her, it’s like a spark ignites and sets his body aflame. It’s the flames of hell that lick at his heels when she saunters into the limelight, red heels clicking against the dirty ground of the Isle. Her black tights are ripped, skirt a lethal red as it brushes her mid thighs, and her leather top a swirl of abyss black and crimson just like the two horns settled on her head. Her glowing green eyes pierce right through him the moment she comes to a standstill, letting her barely contained magic show.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t Shrimpy.” (Y/N) smirked, seductive and proud just like her mother. She was the embodiment of her mother, cruel and clever and cold.

Hey! In her heart there's a hole There's a black mark on her soul

“I’d shut your mouth before you say something you regret.” Uma glowered, hand on her hip as she stood with her full height. “You don’t have your sister to protect you anymore.”

“Protect me? I don’t need her protection, urchin, I can handle myself just fine without Mal.” There was no ounce of bitterness when she said it, only fact.

“Good. Because without your whiny sister around, I plan to make a new ruling on this garbage island.” Uma tilted her head, looking (Y/N) over, and Harry did the same. There mindsets were on different path though. “I want her old turf. A pixie like you ain’t going to stop me either.”

“Hmm…How about a fight for it?” Her (e/c) eyes lit up with mischief.

“I’m never one to back down from a daughter of Maleficent.” Uma went to withdraw her sword, but (Y/N) tutted.

“Not you, sweetie. Him. I want to see if the Son of Hook is all he’s made out to be.” The corner of Harry’s lip twitched up at her words, growing into a grin.

“Let’s go then, darlin’.” He pulled his sword out, brandishing it towards the twin of his Captain’s enemy.

In her hands is my heart And she won't let go 'till it's scarred

Uma tossed her a sword for a fair fight, and she caught it was ease, flicking her wrist around with it in her gasp before pointing it at the pirate.

“The only girl you call darlin’ will be Wendy’s girl. You can call me the Queen of Hell.” She purred, eyes zeroed in on him before Harry grinned, all pearly white teeth, and spun into his attack. She blocked fluidly, the clang of steel bringing a laugh that sounded like the tinkle of bells. Controlled and smug.

Harry used his weight against her, pressing his sword and hook harder against her blade until it was practically against her throat. She only giggled though, a waft of sweet bubble-gum making his head delirious.

Ha! Tried to breathe but I can't 'Cause the air she feeds me is damned

She threw him off her in his moment of weakness, kicking him hard in the chest just as he caught her ankle.

“Loving the view, girlie.” He smirked, breathless as her heel dug into his sternum.

“So am I.” Her eyes shone green as her sword swung around and catch his hat, knocking it off his head. He let her go to catch it, blocking her new attack from where he crouched just in time. Place the hat upon his head once more, he slipped his hook around her wrist and spun her away into the wall. She gasped, (e/c) eyes narrowing and lips pursed in determination. He trailed his sword against the wall, scrapping away a decade’s worth of grime, before pausing it by the lovely (h/c) locks by her throat.

Trapping her with his arm and blade, he leant it close and relished in the moment of vulnerability on her face when she looked up at him.

“I win.”

“That’s where you’re wrong. I got you right where I want you.” The mask of vulnerability slipped away to reveal her triumph when she threw her head forward and butted her horns against his forehead hard. He backed away with a cry of pain, black lined eyes narrowing in on the daughter of Maleficent.

Moments before he could even think of attacking, she had him down on his knees with a swift knee to the gut. Her hand knocking his pirate’s hat off with mirth, hand tangling in his hair roughly to pull his head back and press her blade against the soft flesh of his neck.

“Checkmate, pirate. Turf’s all yours.” She pulled away from him as his eyes widened, surprised that he was getting the turf when he so obviously lost. (Y/N) turned to Uma, flipping the sword around to offer the handle to her. “Your first mate proved his worth. He had potential, and I believe he wouldn’t follow you unless you had more potential than even himself. Consider this my only act of generosity. The docks are all yours.”

Got a touch like a thorn 'Cause the girl she's hiding horns

Harry remembered burning with shame at losing to (Y/N), but at the same time, his blood stream is set aflame in desire. She’s everything he’s ever desired; strong, beautiful, fearless and clever.

She’s the Devil and he loved it.

When he saw her again, it’s on his way to Harriet’s ship. It’s a cool evening, puddles splashing under foot from the pervious storm as he walked. The day had been less than eventful – looting, terrorising, it got boring after the task was done.

The first thing he noticed was the emptiness of the street. Then there’s the sweet smell that had been plaguing his dreams ever since their battle. Strawberry bubble-gum, light yet rich. He turned around to the cold touch on his bicep, like the grip of death over his shoulder. Her eyes are so ordinary yet every time he looked into them it was like he was being hypnotised all over again.

“Son of Hook.” She purred, hand gliding up to his shoulder to squeeze, and he hated to admit how breathless it made him.

“Daughter of Maleficent.” He stated, brow raised as he took in her usual glory. “What, may I ask, has happened ta lead me ta such pleasurable company?” Harry grazed his hook along her hip, letting his stance turn cockier.

“I know you like me, Hook.” It was fact more than accusation. “I just wanted to let you know…” She pressed in closer and Harry let his eyes roamed down her body with lust. “I don’t feel the same.” She shoved herself off him with a wide smirk, satisfaction in her eyes. “Love is a weakness after all. I’m not an idiot like my sister.”

Harry swallowed thickly when she patted his chest patronisingly, fingers drifting down his toned stomach before pulling away at his belt. She turned on the toe of her heels and walked away with a sway that Harry couldn’t help but drink.

She got blood cold as ice And a heart made of stone

He thinks of her night and day; it’s impossible not to. She’s like a drug, cursing him to look for another hit every moment of every day. He sees her around, in the markets, around the turf, sometimes even at the fish and chips shop.

It’s like she’s haunting, taunting him with the body she knows is gorgeous and glowing green irises that make him shudder. The horns upon her head make a lot of sense now. She truly is the Devil.

But she keeps me alive She's the beast in my bones

It’s weeks later when they finally speak again. She approached him, walk filled with power before she cornered him against the wall. He throws on his best flirty smile, winking.

“Liking the view, girlie?” It reminded him of the day he fell for her.

“Maybe I am.” She said coyly, but it was obvious that it was false. She let her hand drift over his muscled arms, squeezing his bicep with a bite of her lower lip. “I need a favour.” He should have expected it.

“What’s in it for me?” He hummed, lips poised in a pout. She chuckled, letting him go with a linger.

“You can have whatever you want.” She began, looking him over appreciatively. “If, you doing to this one little thing for me.”

He listened, and he agreed, and even as he’s dangling one of the Gaston twins over the shark infested water, forcing an apology from him, he knows he should have just let it be.

She gets everything she wants When she gets me alone Like it's nothin'

“Now, about that reward ye offered,” Harry brought it up smugly, but she only smiled daintily, crimson and black swirled horns glinting in the dim light of the chip shop.

“You should ask more questions, Harry. I never said when I’d cash in your reward.” Her eyes glinted evilly as she slipped off her stool, barely giving him another glance as she left the shop. Harry snapped his teeth, smacking the table in frustration. She was always one step ahead, and somehow, it still made him hot and bothered.

She got two little horns And they get me a little bit

“You can’t run forever, (Y/N).” Harry whispered lowly into her ear, finally having the upper hand. She had been walking along the docks, loving to trespass when she could when he caught her. He pressed his body against her back, hands covering hers, so she couldn’t leave.

“You think you can hold me?” She craned her neck up to glare at him. “I’d like to see you try.”

“I don’t have to try, lassie.” Harry’s lips brushed her cheek and relished in the heat that gathered beneath his lips. “I just can.” Their lips are inches apart, but it’s a stand still to see who would break first. It’s Harry that does, lips slotting over hers as he breathed her in.

It was like the fire of hell had consumed his being, the sin of lust burning deep in his gut as he feel deeper into her web. He kisses like a starved man and she has to hold onto him as not to go over the dock, fists clenched in his scarlet jacket. Her hand made its way into his hair, and he’s under her whim in a second flat. She tugged hard, breaking the kiss and laughing like she’s unaffected by his affections.

She's the fire in the sin And I burn breathin' her in

“Oh, you’re just too cute, Hook.” She grinned, pushing him away from her and he stumbled, trying to regain his footing. “Next time, I advise you use your hands more. I hate just kissing.” She drawled, shoving his arm with her shoulder as she walked away.

Harry licked his red lips with a grin, a bubble of laughter escaping his throat.

Game on.

He’s ready to damn his soul to hell.

Now it's love suicide And I sell my soul for the high

The tensions in the air whenever they see each other after that. It’s wound tight and buzzing like static between them. The moment they’re alone though, it’s like it thickens, consuming them both when Harry grabs her by the hips and suffocates her with kisses. It’s rough and messy and perfect for them; they don’t have a name for it because she keeps her lips sealed.

He doesn’t mind though. He melts under her touch every time, a slave to the stone-hearted fairy’s whims. Even Uma notices it, though she doesn’t say a word to him except,

“Don’t trust pixies.”

Truth be told I don't mind 'Cause her hand's my paradise

She always leaves him hanging on the edge of the cliff, body flushed and wanton and half-naked. She’s in control, and she makes sure he knows it.

“This isn’t for you, Harry. I don’t like you. I can barely stand you. But you’re body? Oh, I love that.” Her tongue is like a viper, spitting poison. He loves it nonetheless when he’s on the end of its words.

“I love when ye talk dirty, lass.” He purred, pulling her closer and claiming her neck as his, even if it’s only for a few minutes. Her moans are quiet and soft, not letting an inch of vulnerability show even when she’s stripped of her famous red and black top.

Every time he meets her, it ends the same. With the click of her heels leaving him alone, throat gasping for air.

She can crush every hope Got her heels stompin' down my throat

Her eyes are cold when she hears that Mal is back. Having always been close to her mother, she had grown to hate her twin and her bad-turned-good act.

Villains didn’t get a happily ever after, yet Mal had been granted one because she betrayed everything she knew.

It made (Y/N)’s icy blood boil.

She appeared in front of Uma, a bound King on her back, and with a simple smirk, requested revenge.

Uma wasn’t one to reject vengeance against the much-hated Mal.

She got blood cold as ice And a heart made of stone

Harry will always love the look of a sword in her hand. She looked like what she truly was; fearless and powerful. A force to be reckoned with like his beloved ocean.

When he dived into the waters to grab his hook during the battle, he hadn’t expected her hands to pull him out of danger. He’s cold and dripping, eyeliner smudged, but his grin is crazed and wide with happiness.

He pulled her close and kissed her hard, fight forgotten in favour of getting this one spontaneous kiss to seep into her frigid heart.

Her breath is warm against his blue tinted lips, and it’s like a river of molten lava has blocked off the chill of his soaked clothes. When the kiss breaks, she takes the hand cupping her cheek into hers and her eyes flash green with mischief.

“Let’s go kebab some traitors.” She said low enough for just him to hear, linking their fingers and pulled him towards to the fight. A grin splits his face as he followed.

She has his back as he fought the King, and he had hers as her sword clashed with Evie’s, their hearts synced in the motivation to cut down traitors.

When they get away, (Y/N) lashed out at a rail of the dock, eyes glowing a malicious green when her sister got away.

But she keeps me alive She's the beast in my bones

She grabbed him by the lapels of his jacket and dragged him away from the crowd of pirates, shoving him into the nearest dark alley. When Harry looks at her standing in the light outside it, he can only think of the Devil. The sun casts an orange tint to her, her horns dark and threatening as she stalked towards him and kissed him hard.

“I’m about to lose my fucking mind.” She growled against his lips, pulling her top off and throwing it aside without a care, doing the same with his roughly. The warmth of her body in so drastically different from the chill of her fingertips that Harry gasps. Her lips seal over his, nails biting into his shoulders before they scraped upwards into his dripping dark locks.

“Let me distract you then.” Harry murmured against her lips, biting her lower lip gently as his he dropped his hook aside to grip her waist.

“That’s exactly what I wanted.”

She gets everything she wants When she gets me alone Like it's nothin'

Harry remembers that afternoon in the alleyway as clear as day. He remembers her warmth, her kisses, her hands. He remembers how perfect their bodies melded together.

He even remembers look up at her horns and smiling. His little Devil was caught by the horns, just as she caught him the moment he saw them.

She got two little horns And they get me a little bit

A few months down the road, Harry finds himself reminiscing as he looked out into the ocean that Uma had gotten lost in the night of the Cotillion.

“Still waiting for your Captain, huh?” He turned to (Y/N) in surprise before a smile broke out onto his face.

“Is that jealousy I detect perhaps?” He teased. She has no reason to be jealous. He’s completely enveloped by the twin daughter of Maleficent.

“Depends.” She slipped her arm around his chest, brushing her thumb against his wavy dark hair. “My mother wants to meet you. She thinks you’ve become one of my henchmen.” Once Maleficent was returned to the Isle, it only took her time before she grew back to her human self. Without magic keeping her trapped as the size of the love in her heart, the Isle restored her.

“I’m not?” She smacked his shoulder and he chuckled, leaning in to press a soft kiss to her lips.

“You know you’re not.”

“So, villains can love, perhaps?” He teased.

“I wouldn’t call what we have love. Love doesn’t exist on the Isle. I’d call us…” She searched for the right word before smiling up at him. “Monogamous and loyal evil doers.” Harry laughed at her words, boisterous and loud. He looped his hook into the hole of her tights, pulling her impossibly close.

“Partners in crime.” His grin grew. “The Devil and the King.” He winked.

“I prefer ‘Queen of Hell’.” She purred with a smirk, raising her hand to play with the tip of one of her horns. “You, my dear, are Lucifer.”

She got horns like a devil Pointed at me and there's nowhere to run From the fire she breathes (x3)

Harry chuckled, forehead pressed against hers as he breathed in the sweet scent of bubble-gum. Raising his hook behind her, he circled one horn and tilted her head back to place a chaste kiss to her lips.

“Mm, I like that sound of that, lassie.”

She got two little horns And they get me a little bit

#harry hook x reader #descendants imagine #descendants #descendants 2 #harry hook #x reader #reader #mals twin sister!reader

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secretlessvicki · 6 years

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Charades and Masquerades

He was a devote Catholic. She was the direct descendant of Madame Marie Laveau. Could he bring her to the side of God and holiness? Or would she show him the ways of magic and sin?

What happens when a string of murders in one of the most haunted cities brings together two people who never planned to see each other again? And how this all tie into an infamous treasure?

Prologue Ch 1

Chapter 1

It was another night of tossing and turning for Lieutenant Killian Jones. Being aboard a naval ship never alluded to a good night's sleep. But it wasn’t just the crashing of the waves and the sways of the ship that always had Killian waking in the morning feeling just a tired as he had been when he went to bed.

The empty rum bottle that sat on his desk and the memories of abandonment and betrayal plagued his mind. His mother passing just before his sixth birthday. His father not returning home one night after work. And an endless string of foster homes only homing he and his brother for the paycheck not really caring how the boys fared. And then there was her.

“Get your bloody arse out of bed!”

A sudden splash of water woke Killian from his sleep. “What the fuck, Liam? You couldn’t have just woke me with an alarm like everyone else?”

“I tried. That blasted device has been blaring for half an hour.” He pointed to what looked like a previously working alarm clock. Now it was just a pile of wires and plastic parts all across the cabin floor. “Did you go through another bottle again? Killian, when are you going to stop all of your self-loathing?”

Liam Jones, older brother extraordinaire began tossing away empty bottles with a roll of his eyes. He had been there with Killian through everything. The morning their mother passed, Liam was there holding his baby brother as he cried into his shirt. When their father did not come home, it was Liam who watched over his little brother. The day he turned eighteen, Liam fought with everything he had to earn custody of Killian. It meant working two jobs while also making sure that the rebellious Killian attended school and was clothed and fed. By the time Killian was old enough they were both in their respective ports serving in Her Royal Majesty’s Navy.

“Liam, the bloody fucking sun is not even out. Why in God’s name do I need to be up before it’s light out?” The faint pounding in his head increasing with each blink of his eyes. He almost swore someone was wielding a sledgehammer behind his eyes.

“You know better than to take his name in vain, little brother. Did you forget everything you learned in Bible study?”

A sudden memory of a nun slapping a ruler against a chalkboard flashed in Killian’s mind. He didn’t remember everything but he knew the important bits. Jesus turned water into wine. The Ten Commandments. It’s not as if any of it had helped him recently.

“Are you going to tell me why I am sitting awake on wet bed sheets? We are suppose to be on liberty. That means sleeping in.”

“You are only sleeping in because you stayed awake all night. Now put a shirt on and meet me in the Mess. I’ll fill you in over breakfast.” Liam threw a pillow at his brother before leaving.

After a string of incoherent curses, Killian rummaged around his bunk to find his uniform. Without a window in the cabin, he took a guess at what the weather would be like. The coast of Ireland in April could always be deceiving and he was sure Liam was going to take them both out for the day.

It took Killian almost 10 extra minutes to get down to where he was sure his older brother was waiting for him. He could almost hear Liam drumming his fingers against the metal table each time he had to stop because a fellow sailor commented on his red eyes or the dark circles underneath. Every time he opened a bottle he would tell himself that he would only have a shot or two. But two shots would turn into an entire glass, and after two glasses Killian would ditch the useless tumbler and drink straight from the bottle. He knew what would happen. No matter how much water he drank or how many painkillers he took, the result would always be the same. One massive headache and a piss poor mood.

His mood was even worse when he walked into the Mess to find that Liam had a glass of some awful green concoction. It could only be one thing. Liam Brennan Jones’ version of a hangover cure. One thing for sure was that the bloody drink would taste absolutely terrible.

“What ever happened to a good English breakfast after a night out on the town?”

“First of all, you did not spend the night out on the town. You wallowed away in some pub all night only to drink yourself unconscious in your bunk.

Second, you can do whatever you please at the end of the month when you get discharged. Until then you will continue to follow not only the royal navy’s rules but mine as well. I will still be your older brother even when I am no longer your captain.”

“Aye aye, Captain.” Killian saluted. “In two weeks you will have a new lieutenant to push around.”

“Aye, sometimes I look forward to the day. But until then you are mine, little brother. Now drink up. I want you more coherent. Something big came about last night.”

“Younger brother.” Begrudgingly, Killian drank his hangover cure. He flagged down one of the steward’s for a proper breakfast, finally settling in for Liam’s big news.

“Are you ready?”

Trying very hard not to roll his eyes, Killian slowly nodded his head. The movement felt like his brain was hitting the inside of his skull but Killian managed not to wince. At least he hoped not.

“We found something!” Liam vaguely explained.

“We? As in you and me? Because I certainly do not remember finding anything of importance. Or do you mean the crew? If that is the case I must be far more hungover than I thought, because I was almost positive our latest mission was a recon.”

“Just shut it you git and let me explain. Petty Officer Morgan…”

“Oh you mean that American you have been chatting with in your free time?” Killian suddenly was more interested in this story. Especially when it involved his prude of a brother and a woman.

“It is not like that Killian and you know it. Get your mind out of the gutter so I can explain. She and I have been emailing back and forth since we meet when you and I were stationed at the U.S. Joint Reserve Base in New Orleans. Reylin is into history same as we are. In fact, she actually did a semester abroad at Imperial College the same time you were in your second year.”

“So she likes history. Sounds like the two of you were made for each other.”

“Stop it, Killian. Would you let me get to the point? She likes history and her favorite subject is lost treasures of the world. She and I have been talking about our hobbies outside of our respective navys and she mentioned looking into an old New Orleans legend. Jean Lafitte.”

If Killian hadn’t been interested before, he was certainly now. While he was not as enthusiastic about history as his brother, Killian Jones did have a love of pirates, fiction or real.

“So you two were talking about a man who was one of the lesser known pirates? What is so important about him?”

“What is important is that to the people in the southern states, Lafitte is not just a second rate pirate. There he is a legend. And before you interrupt me again I wanted to tell you that Morgan has been looking into an old legends about Lafitte. More specifically his last buried treasure.”

“And she found it?”

Pirates and buried treasures had not been what Killian had thought he would be spending his morning talking about. And honestly, he still wished he wasn’t, his bed and pillow were screaming for him to return.

“Not exactly. But she has been digging and she found coordinates to a possible location.”

“Liam, what does this have to do with us?”

“I was thinking that you will be discharged at the end of the month and I will be on leave from my tour. And what better bonding than going on a treasure hunt?”

Killian was thankful that in that moment the steward had brought him his breakfast. He was going to need more protein to get his brain functioning if he was going to deal with Liam and another one of his grand ideas of adventures. The last time the two of them spent bonding time together, Liam ended up in a naval hospital in Brazil after finding out he was highly allergic to a thorny plant in the jungle.

“You want to go on a treasure hunt?” Killian began scanning the room. “Are you pranking me? Or is this some type of documentary for National Geographic? You honestly think it is a good idea for the two of us to fly to the colonies to help a Yankee sailor hunt for an unknown buried treasure? Are you sure you are not trying to impress this lass? Because trying to become Indiana Jones sure sounds like it.”

There was silence between the men as Killian ate and Liam sulked. It was when Killian’s eyes didn’t seem so heavy and his proper posture returned that Liam spoke again.

“You are telling me that you do not want to go? Killian Jones- Mr. ‘I love a challenge’ does not want to help a pretty woman find a long lost treasure? What else would you be doing besides wallowing away in your apartment?”

What was he supposed to say to that? Killian huffed and slouched in his seat. He could tell that Liam knew he had won.

The next week and a half was spent listening to Liam and Officer Morgan talk about what the possibilities were at the end of the coordinates Reylin had. Killian had to admit that it was all very interesting and that he often found himself wondering what the treasure could be. Realistically he knew that the chance of finding something valuable was slim to near impossible. But it didn’t stop Killian from reading up on Jean Lafitte in his spare time.

As it turned out there was more to the man than it seemed. He had no loyalties to anyone but the person paying him. He looted supplies from ships belonging to Britain, France, and America. But what was interesting was that much of the loot that was stolen was dispersed by Pierre Lafitte, Jean’s half-brother. From his reading, Killian could tell that Jean and Pierre were close. Enough so that he could see the similarities between these brothers and he and Liam.

Jean was the romantic type. A number of legends and tales told of his seduction of women and his charm. Liam had almost choked on his dinner one night when Killian read the latest biography. “Sounds like a certain young lieutenant I know.” He had coughed.

Pierre was more reserved. He was the brains of the operations. It was his job to make sure that all treasures were sold or taken care of. While Jean was out having fun raiding the ships, it was Pierre who was keeping them both out of jail. Until he unfortunately found himself behind bars in a rat infested jail in New Orleans that is. Killian kept that news away from Liam.

Late one-night, Killian sat at his desk lost in a rabbit hole of information. If he was going to go on this adventure with his brother and some American lass, he wanted to know what it was that they were going after. His search started with possible treasures that one might look for with pirate hunting. It was after one in the morning, that Killian ended up on a forum made up of men and women across the world that discussed possible leads in hunts, myths and legends, and even a few experts on famous lost treasures. One post in particular caught Killian’s attention.

The lost treasure of Jean Lafitte is considered one of the world’s greatest lost treasures. It is believed that Lafitte hid the treasure somewhere in the city with clues left behind for his brother to one day find. To this day it has never been recovered.

The Voodoo Queen of New Orleans herself spent much of her life dedicated to finding out what was in the lost treasure of Jean Lafitte. No one knows why she wanted the treasure so badly. Was it for the money? Was the treasure powerful? Could it have possibly been tied to the city? To magic? Was the treasure a person? Perhaps the treasure is the long lost Fleur de Lis.

There were more posts and comments that all led to the same thing. The Napoleon Fleur de Lis. It was a pure gold statue encrusted with the finest cute diamonds and rubies. The fleur de lis itself was priceless without even considering it’s history. Napoleon had the statue commissioned as a physical representation of his family crest. Before his exile the statue had gone missing only for it to turn up in the hands of the American government after the Louisiana purchase. The government then gave the Fleur de Lis to the city of New Orleans as a gift. Years later the very statue went missing again, never to be seen again. At the same time, Pierre Lafitte had been imprisoned for the murder of an American sailor (was later exonerated) and his brother had moved all operations to Galveston.

This was it. It had to be it. The treasure that Reylin and ultimately Killian and Liam were hunting.

With a quick text message to the group chat between the members saying he found a lead, Killian sat back in his chair with a grin on his face. Maybe this whole treasure hunting thing wouldn’t be so terrible after all. It could be just the distraction he needed from his constant thoughts of her eyes. Or the three faint lines she would get on her forehead when he said or did something that annoyed her.

That night he fell into a restless sleep. Dreams of a conversation from a time long before his own flashed behind his closed eyes. But just before he woke the next morning, the mystery man in Killian’s dreams faded into an image of himself. Green eyes full of tears broke his heart as he spoke to her.

“I told my brother. He knows to come find you. Keep it safe.”

#captain swan fic #cs ff #captain swan #ouat fic #pirate #lieutenant!killian #treasure hunt #mystery #c&m #my fic

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