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fanaticsnail · 7 months

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You Kissed the Clown? Part 3

So this story in my mind is getting slightly out of hand. I didn't mean for it to get this long, but it seriously hit me like a leaf blower full of refined glitter.

Part 2 is located back here.

Upon setting sail to embark on the journeying voyage to obtain a figure-headed boat, you and your three travelling companions found yourself in ‘Syrup-Village’, a relatively small town with a large port filled with beautifully crafted vessels.

You held a certain apprehension of commencing your combat training under the instruction of a swordsman, as you yourself had no desire to educate yourself on the many ways of ending another life. Zoro originally began your training with relentless administrations, instructing you to train your body to instinctively reach for a weapon and attack an opponent. It was only when Nami interrupted one of your sessions to interject, suggesting defensive maneuvers be on the agenda primarily and anything else was to be an afterthought.

At this suggestion, you released a sigh of relief you didn’t know you were withholding. You had only ever wanted to use your hands to hone your craft as a jeweller – never to cause great violence, only repair what's broken, appraise what's worth appraising and create crafts of fine make using delicate and hard to obtain metals and gemstones. Although, as a part of a newly formed pirate crew, you understood the many dangers you would come to face at the hands of marines, enemy pirates and bounty hunters.

Your defensive training was far easier to manage; Nami taking over a few of your sessions on the way to syrup village in exchange for you appraising the vast number of treasures she had acquired on her journeys. Your eyes widened slightly and your brow quirked at the sheer number of gemstones, gold and silver. You noticed several items were in need of repair, which you offered to undertake for her to increase its value in trade for her combat training.

As you docked your small vessel into port, you met with a man who introduced himself as Usopp. Immediately your hair stood on edge as he began to relay tall tales of his undertakings as a pirate captain. This response was affectionately dubbed by your siblings as your “bullshit radar”, which came in useful when a merchant you were dealing with would attempt to sell to you any counterfeit goods.

It was only when he exclaimed he could set up a meeting with the owner of the docks that you sensed truth in his statements.

“I think that was the only amount of honesty he had spoken all day,” you said, turning your head to your orange-haired navigator. She chuckled slightly at your comment before you all began your journey following Usopp to meet with ‘his boss’.

"Here, my dear tinkerer and creator of fine trinkets," Nami said suddenly, handing you a small trinket from the palm of her hand to yours, "do you think you could fix this for me?"

You looked at the small mechanical wonderment in your hands, noting several pieces were dislodged, the silver had began to tarnish and some pieces were missing. The affectionate words and titles you shared between your fellow comrade was nothing unfamiliar to you, as you were the one to begin doting on your crew with these types of names. You were, however, surprised when they started throwing affectionate titles your way in response.

"I will give it my best, my darling navigator," you said in response, your brows creasing together as you began to truly assess the damage to this particular item. Zoro snickered at the banter between you two, as the now five of you commenced on your merry way under the guidance of your newest found friend.

You decided to walk in the middle of your troop, Usopp leading your captain who was following quickly behind him; you walking alone in the middle of the group, leaving Nami and Zoro at the rear to continue to banter with one another. You barely paid attention to your surroundings, choosing to fix your gaze on one small trinket Nami had given you to repair. Ever so often, you would feel a hand belonging to Nami clasp your shoulder and navigate you back onto the path following behind Usopp and Luffy.

You felt Nami’s firm hand gripping your shoulder to hold you in place, as two figures came into view. You chose to focus entirely on the task, noting the small cogs within this piece you were repairing were becoming more difficult to work with. This piece was a particularly ornate compass with a decorative clock-face with small cogs, springs and intricate leavers within. You had worked with pieces similar in the make as this one, but never on the road without your full arsenal of equipment at your beck and call. You were forcing a small cog into its place interconnecting to a lever when you felt your hand slip slightly, the piece falling to the gravel floor littering the ground with silver, bronze and gold cogs.

“Blast!” you exclaimed in frustration as the pieces slipped beneath your fingers. You dropped yourself to your knees the gravel road beneath you and began picking at the many cogs, springs and leavers on the ground – struggling to find the hands of the clock and compass.

“Nami, my absolute beautiful and cherished darling,” you suddenly exclaimed in annoyance, “this particular piece, as stunning as it is, is in a state that is completely beyond my abilities. I’m going to need a work bench, some oil, some better tweezers, screws, nuts, bolts, a red hot poker, soldering metal, a blackened glass visor, a large magnifying glass, all of the pieces I dropped and a bloody stiff drink to get all of this done.”

You heard a small giggle from directly ahead, bringing your attention to the two figures ahead for the first time since you stopped.

“Klahadore, can you please help her find the cogs. I will be fine here for a moment,” the small, white-blonde haired woman asked the dark-haired man next to her. He adjusted his glasses with the palm of his hand, reluctantly released her from interlacing her hand within his inner arm and prowled over to the place you were kneeling on the ground.

“Thank you, miss,” you deeply bowed to the lady, before offering a sincere smile to the man before you.

“How many pieces are we searching for, my lady?” the man almost purred at you. Taken slightly aback by his tone, you creased your brows together and slightly cringed your lips.

“Thirty-seven cogs, three needlepoint clock arms and four small springs. I’ve managed to collect the bulk of the clock, but the smaller items seem to escape me,” you responded sheepishly. He shut his eyes in response and sharply inhaled through his nose before reopening his eyes and used his gloved fingertips to search through the rubble to find the pieces you needed.

“After you collect your pieces, Klahadore will bring you to rejoin your crew in the guest quarters,” the woman said with a warm smile.

“Miss Kaya,” the man in front of you turned slightly to face his mistress, “I will escort you back to the castle and rejoin our tinkering guest once you are settled inside,” you noticed the way he addressed you had you set a little on edge, hair pricking up slightly on the back of your neck.

“Please,” you interrupted, pulling his gaze back to you, “I truly have no need for assistance. I’ll locate the pieces I dropped, and I am more than capable of locating you or another attending member of the household staff once I’ve found them all.” You smiled at the man you knew as Klahadore, which he gave a slight smirk and curt nod in response before standing to his feet and extending his gloved hand towards you; which contained thirty-six cogs, all clock arms and three small springs.

“Thank you, Mister Klahadore,” you nodded, accepting the pieces from him and placing them into a small satchel you attached to your hip. You then turned your gaze to locate the two remaining pieces of the item, which was a task you appeared to not be up to undertaking with much success.

As your crew, Kaya, Klahadore and the two other members of staff retreated to the main building; you released a hiss from between your teeth in frustration.

For another hour, you remained on your knees searching for a single small spring and the one remaining cog before you felt something watching you. You turned your head to search for the source of the uncomfortable gaze, finding nothing in your field of vision. You felt slightly unnerved by the feeling, choosing to crease your brows and abandon any hope of maintaining your dignity as you lay face down on the gravel road. You brought your eyes within an inch of the road beneath you, rolling up your sleeves and collecting your skirts beneath you to enable free your movement as you searched.

You heard a small, curt cough from behind you; forcing your whole body to jolt upwards in response and turn to face the source of the noise. Your eyes met with Klahadore’s dark ones, while you stood to your feet and dusted your skirts off.

“Forgive me, lady tinkerer,” he said with a small smile, adjusting his glasses with the ball of his palm, “it appears two pieces from the floor found their way onto the soles of my shoes. I was only just now alerted to their presence and thought to return them to you.”

He extended his hand towards you, and sure enough with the two pieces you spent the past hour on your hands, knees and face searching for on the dusty road below you. You sharply breathed in through your nose in an attempt to mask your frustration before smiling and extending your hand towards the butler to collect the missing pieces.

“Thank you, Mister Klahadore,” you managed to say with no amount of malice present, although you absolutely felt the rage slightly bubble in your chest. You collected the pieces from his outstretched hand once more and placed them into the pouch at your belt hilt. He then turned his back to you and extended his elbow out to you as an indication for you to take it. You creased your brows in thought momentarily before apprehensively reaching your arm out to take it.

“How long have you been in the antiquity restoration business?” he asked you as he led you towards the large mansion. You smiled at his question before responding.

“Longer than many would give me credit for,” you replied with a small smile toying at the corner of your lips, “although that particular piece is proving to be more difficult to repair on the seas than the workshop I am accustomed to working in.”

He hummed slightly, arching his eyebrow at your response. A small silence fell between you before he again spoke.

“And if I was to have a heavily lit workspace made for you within these walls, would you be so kind as to accept repairing something for me if I was to ask it of you?” he quirked towards you, “discretely, of course.”

You furrowed your brows at the question, noting a small amount of malice behind his enquiry. You held your tongue, searching for the kindest way to phrase your next few words.

“I take your silence as a declination of undertaking such a task,” he sighed slightly, reaching his palm up to readjust his glasses once more.

“Not necessarily,” you quirked in response, “I would be interested in providing my skills for you and the lady of the house, sure enough. I am just a little apprehensive as to what type of discretion I am to provide alongside my services.”

You craned our head up to look at the man at your side, prompting him to look down to you slyly out of the corner of his eye.

“It is a sentimental piece from my past,” he responded, leading you up the external stairs of the mansion slowly, “and I would not like to disclose my past to my current employer.”

You nodded your head and furrowed your brows, pursing your lips slightly at the question.

“A mechanical, retractable weapon then?” you uttered almost inaudibly to him, prompting him to halt in leading you further within the walls of the mansion and swiftly turning to face you with wide eyes.

“An excellent deduction, tinkerer,” he responded, “valuable only in sentimentality, of course. I would never intend to use it in my service to Miss Kaya.”

You hummed in response, holding the gaze of the man beside you. Every alarm in your body felt like it was blaring at the same time, screaming at the dangerous aura erupting from the man next to you. You felt the similar feeling of being watched once more, alerting you that the earlier feeling did not belong to this shifty individual in front of you.

You had dealt with many unnerving individuals in the past alongside your father, mother and siblings back at the shop, the latest under your belt being Captain "Axe-Hand" Morgan. Although they never threatened you with harm, nor those within your inner circle, you did feel a slight more lean towards lawful undertakings. Being so far from the comforts of home, you felt as if you had no choice but to accept this task.

"I accept the job, Mister Klahadore," you declared as he continued to lead you through the many halls of the wide mansion. You noticed him smirk slightly at your acceptance before clearing his throat with a small cough and readjusting himself as he led you to the correct wing.

“I will have a space made for you after you bathe and join my mistress for dinner,” he smirked at you before halting your journey in front of two wide double-doors you presumed were the guest quarters your companions were being housed in. You noticed your swordsman companion was walking in naught but a robe while carrying his three swords over his shoulders down the hall towards the door you found yourself and Klahadore standing in front of.

Releasing your hand from its spot on his inner elbow, he used his other gloved hand to claim your fingertips with his own, cradling them slightly with his thumb. He bowed his head slightly to you and brought your hand closer to his face.

“Until the later hours,” Klahadore murmured with a sly smirk, raising your hand to capture your knuckles in a brisk whisper of a kiss. You immediately felt an unnerving amount of alarm bells clatter throughout every fibre of your being at this gesture, but hoped your face did not relay any discomfort.

He brought your hand down from its place against his lips and released it from his grasp, turning on his way you assume to be directing the household to prepare the meals for you and your companions.

“My, my, my,” Zoro uttered from behind you, “ moving on to the Butler now?”

You tensed slightly at his comment, knowing exactly how this would look to your green-haired companion.

"It's not like that," you said through gritted teeth, bringing the hand that was once pressed against the lips of Klahadore and smudging your thumb over the place he pressed his lips onto.

"First the jester, now the butler. Moving up in the world, sweetheart. Proud of you," he taunted you in a monotonous tone.

“Not. A. Word,” you said, pausing between each syllable as you turned to face your companion.

He raised his hands in front of him defensively with a sly and mischievous smile. You hardened your expression and made to open the doors you assumed containing the remainder of your travelling companions. As you pushed on the door, you heard Zoro suck in a large breath from behind you. Before you could make to stop him, he began his loud declaration of what he thinks he just witnessed.

“She kissed the Butler!” he professed to your other two companions, prompting their heads to snap up and acknowledge your presence. You stopped in your movements, Zoro pushing past you and laughing with your captain and navigator.

“Seriously?” Luffy laughed and sprung to his feet, “you kissed him too?”

You felt heat radiating from your body in sheer embarrassment. You knew your face would be beet red at the comment.

“Absolutely not,” you responded, “I was merely accepting a job repairing a sentimental item that belongs to him.”

“Is that what we’re calling it now?” Zoro taunted with a small smirk adorning his face, "do you accept all jobs with a kiss, or is it just the unsettling weirdos?"

You groaned in response, turning to exit the room.

“I’m going to take a bath,” you declared, turning on your heel and sauntering off into the direction where Zoro was walking from.

“Try not to kiss anyone else on the way!” Zoro called out after you, teasing your prior interaction. You felt the flush of your cheeks linger upon your face, more so slightly agitated at the thought that Zoro could couple you so readily in his mind with someone as unnerving as Klahadore.

You had absolutely no feelings of flirtatious intent towards the Butler, Klahadore. In fact, the only feeling that came over you was complete and utter unease. There was something about him that set you off, and knowing you were to repair something potentially dangerous for him did not uproot the uneasy feeling.

Walking through the vast halls, you looked at the variety of antique ornaments littering the benchtops, noting some were in desperate need of repair. You inspected a small, intricate light fixture on the countertop noting that one of the small screws was slightly loose; you took out a small screwdriver from your pouch and began to work at the little metallic piece, tightening it in its place. As you repaired it, you turned your sights onto the next item, an unusual wind up children’s toy that resembled a small mouse. You reached for it slightly, before pushing home repairs to the back of your mind by shaking your head slightly, and making your way to the bathroom to get cleaned up before dinner.

And the bathroom was beautiful. Grand ornamental brass legs held a large bath, filled with slightly murky water you assume belonged to the swordsman. You snarled a little at his bad manners before pulling up the sleeves of your blouse and reaching an arm into the lukewarm bathing liquid. Being a large and deep bath, you felt your blouse begin to get soaked as you attempted to reach the chain attached to the end of the plug to release it from its hold on the drain. A typhoon was created, pooling the unclean bathwater above the drain and emptying the water from the porcelain container with an almost howl-like groan.

Entranced by the spinning liquid as it left the water, you began to think about the battle as it was described to you by your captain between himself, Zoro, Nami and Buggy. The chop-chop fruit apparently, from their description, allows him to carve off a piece of himself and reattach it at will with no harm coming to him.

The “chop-chop cannon” manoeuvre apparently resembled a cyclone of blades as he whirled his disassembled parts around in the air with blades protruding from every surface. You couldn’t quite picture the way it was described to you, as you had no prior experience with detached limbs and their wild movements but as the drain emptied the contents of the bath within, you felt immediately drawn to attempt to picture what that may have been like to combat against.

As this bath was filled to the brim with liquid, you noted it was taking quite a while to empty down the drain. To pass the time, you began readying yourself to undertake a proper wash, one you had not experienced since commencing your travelling with the mismatched troop you found yourself with.

You began humming to yourself as you located a hairbrush and raked it through to begin detangling through your locks. You started at the ends, forcing the strands to part from one another as you administered a small amount of force between strokes. You sauntered over to the sink to locate the problem you were not seeing in your hair, finding it in the mirror. As you brushed your hair, you noticed your skin had begun to tan slightly, as the exposure of the sun in your travels had darkened the pigment your skin under its rays. You leant forward in the mirror to look closely at your face, noticing a small speck of blue paint remained at the point between your jaw and your ear.

It occurred to you that not only had that speck of paint been there for several days now and not one of your companions cared to notify you of it, but the memory of the intimate connection you shared with the clown sprung back into your mind.

At that moment, five different stages of unfamiliar emotion crossed over into your mind.

“Get a hold of yourself, woman,” you said to your reflection, “it wasn’t even that good of a kiss anyhow.” You attempted to bargain with yourself, knowing full and well that this particular kiss you shared between the captain of the Buggy Pirates and yourself was one of the most true, honest and hungry embraces you had experienced with another person.

You started attacking your locks more vigorously with the brush, making your way upwards towards the roots on your scalp.

“And why would he even kiss me like that, anyway? How dare he lean in and actually lean in and enjoy it!” you angrily expressed, slamming the brush down onto the countertop beside the sink. You noticed the bath had completely emptied as you turned to rinse it with cool liquid before filling it again.

“He even had the absolute gall to moan into it, like some touch-starved animal,” you growled, looking at the variety of perfumed bottles surrounding the bathtub, uncorking them and lifting them to your nose to sample the scents before adding the desirable liquid to the bath.

“And I didn’t enjoy it that much. It’s not like I’d ever see him again,” you expressed, beginning to remove your various items of clothing and placing them to the side of the room in a folded, neat pile.

“Do I even want to see him again?” you questioned yourself, quirking your head to the side momentarily and allowing the aspect to mull over in your head for a moment, “absolutely not.”

A wave of sadness overcame you as you reflected on the expression he held in his eyes as he pulled away from your lips, still cradling you against himself and gazing almost lovingly but apprehensively into your half-lidded eyes.

You tested the water temperature with your forearm and adjusted the taps to better suit your liking. You removed the final piece of your attire and stepped into the clean, warm and lightly scented water. You relished in it engulfing your body as you held your nose and dipped yourself back into the liquid.

You removed your head from under the water as the need for air came to fruition in your chest.

“I do want to see him again,” you uttered to yourself, “I want nothing more than to see him again.”

You searched again through the vials beside you and found some cleansing foams and liquids beside you and you began to scrub at your hair, releasing the solidified particles of salt you had picked up from the seawater.

“I would do anything to have one conversation with him,” you uttered to yourself, “just to let him know that I’m not a coward at the very least.”

Again, the image of his body sauntering over to you as a predator would to their unwitting prey; hungry only for violence, death and a swift meal came before you. The shocked look in his eyes while you grasped his mustard-coloured cravat and brought him into yourself, joining your lips together in what was meant to be a swift kiss that turned into something desperate and needy at the hands of this completely unhinged man. The gentle caress, the feel of his desperate whimpers against your lips and the way your body felt ablaze under his careful administrations was so utterly foreign to you, and so completely unexpected.

Your eyes began to well up at the thought of how foreign this felt for not only you, but you could only assume the blue-haired captain. You blinked back slightly, refusing to let anything spill over and onto your cheeks as you dunked your hair again into the water.

“He could’ve been faking,” you whispered, “it could’ve all been an act, a trick to lull me into a false sense of security, only to kill me after he was done with whatever he was doing with Luffy.”

You brought your hand to the nozzle of a honey-sweet scented container and pooled some of the contents into your waiting palm. You rubbed your hands together and brought them up to your face, pressing the sticky substance into the pores of your nose, cheeks, forehead, chin, ears and finally over your eyes.

"But I know for a fact that what I was feeling was real," you exclaimed into your palms, "I could feel how much he wanted me from the way he was holding me against him."

As you closed your eyes and rubbed the foaming liquid into them, you felt the final wave of emotional apophony wash over you. You suddenly dunked your face into the pooling water below to rid your skin of the substance completely before re-emerging to the surface.

"And I want him," you whispered into the porcelain frame of the bath, "And I want him to know how much I want him."

You swiped your hand over your hair to rid it from your eyes and leant into the side of the bath as you came to terms with this new feeling arising in your chest.

“I think I’m in love with Buggy the Clown,” you confessed, unwittingly to the eyes you felt watching over you earlier. Or, more adequately framed, ear tucked cozily into one of the many unused pockets of your skirts belonging to the one and only blue-haired, painted clown captain aforementioned.

Part 4

#buggy the clown x reader #buggy x you #buggy #buggy fic #captain buggy #opla buggy #OPLA fic #one piece #x reader

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yuesya · 2 months

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Land! Sweet, sweet land!

Lumine almost feels as if she could cry in this moment. She shouldn’t have chosen that merchant vessel over Beidou’s Alcor and experienced crew. At the time, the merchant’s ship was leaving sooner –two entire weeks before Beidou was planning to set sail– and Lumine had only wanted to reach Inazuma as soon as possible in order to continue her search for her brother.

They’d been hit by a storm, and the ship had capsized. Fortunately, there were enough emergency rowboats for all members on board, even if the merchant’s goods had been a complete loss to the ruthless waves. Less fortunately… it had been several long days of drifting at sea, and their dwindling supplies weren’t about to last much longer.

“We’ve made it, Lumine!” Paimon cheers. Lumine nods firmly. “We’re alive!”

Alive, and in desperate need of aid. Lumine and a few of the other stronger sailors set out to explore a bit and get a better idea of their surroundings. Hopefully they’d come across some friendly locals who’d be able to extend a helping hand, or at least be willing to just tell them where they’d washed up on–

Someone’s there.

Another person! Lumine quickens her footsteps, even as waterlogged as she is.

“Excuse me–!”

Paimon flies ahead of her, chasing the figure that she’d glimpsed. “Wait! Wait, please, we’re just hapless travelers who –ack!”

“Paimon?” Urgency quickens her footsteps, and Lumine hurries to reach her companion. “You…”

Her voice dies in her throat.

There’s a young girl standing amidst the trees, with blue-white hair that appears almost silver beneath the sunlight. Her clothing is in the distinct fashion of Inazuman dress, a mix of soft blue and lilac colors flowing down her body. It’s almost enough to make Lumine acutely self-conscious of her own waterlogged state and haphazard appearance from days of floating out at sea–

But there’s a dark purple cloth tied over the girl’s face, covering her eyes. A blindfold. The girl is blind.

Blind, and yet she’d moved so smoothly and confidently over the rough terrain. Lumine had barely managed to glimpse her earlier, and if it hadn’t been for her coloring standing out so starkly against the verdant backdrop of the trees, she would’ve thought that she’d imagined it all in her head.

The girl raises her hand –the hand that’s holding onto the back of Paimon’s dress, “Is it yours?”

Paimon squirms. “I’m not an ‘it!’”

“Yes, Paimon is my friend,” Lumine nods firmly –and belatedly realizes that the girl probably can’t even see it. Wait. Is she really blind? The way she moved, the way she seemed aware of everything around her… didn’t really seem like the motions of a blind person…

The girl wordlessly releases her grip on Paimon; Paimon immediately returns to Lumine’s side, casting the girl an unsettled, suspicious look.

“Um…” Best to just get to the point, probably. “Could you possibly point us towards where the nearest settlement is, please?”

“Head south,” the girl raises a pale hand, the one that’s not holding the basket of strange purple grass as she points towards the direction to their left. “Watatsumi’s Bourou Village isn’t far from here. You’ll find it easily once you reach and follow the road.”

“Thank you!” That’s probably the best news that Lumine has heard ever since the shipwreck. “We really appreciate it, miss…?”

The girl remains silent. Lumine trails off awkwardly.

“… Erm, what should I call you?” Lumine ends up asking sheepishly. The girl is certainly strange, but she doesn’t sense any ill will from her. And she’d helped give directions easily enough; Lumine would like to have a name for the person who’d given them assistance.

“… Gojo," the girl says. "Call me Gojo.”

#writing #zenith of stars au #genshin impact au #yes lumine meets shiki as her first encounter in inazuma #much like running into venti first thing in mondstadt!#not that she realizes it #lumine gets to the village safely with the rest of the shipwrecked crew #and proceeds to make her way to narukami island #where the electro archon SHOULD be #surprise surprise the god is missing!#oh no i wonder where she could possibly be #also also #big thanks to ko-fi friends!

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mask-of-ire · 2 years

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25 Port City Adventure Seeds

By Robb from readytorole.com

An infamous pirate captain and his crew have recently docked, causing fear and concern for many of the merchants and locals in the city. However, they’ve never broken any laws here or attacked native ships, so the guard refuse to do anything.

Someone has been stealing from and vandalizing small vessels in the night. The only clues are that the alcohol is never touched and anything red is sloppily repainted to be blue.

A wizard specializing in conjuration is selling his services to any crew who will take him, promising his loyal water elementals will be in the waters behind them and will help steer the ship and save them from harm. In truth he is a master of illusion looking for an easy payday while really doing nothing.

A collapse in the streets of the city reveal a hidden underwater grotto with an extensive cave network. City officials are willing to pay for the exploration of the caves after an initial search recovered some long lost artifacts.

A ship coming into port crashed into two smaller boats as well as the dock, causing severe damage but no casualties. When authorities went to confront the crew, not a soul could be found on board.

An old sea captain has recently turned up back in town after he was thought dead years ago when his ship went down. When asked about what happened he acts as though he can’t hear you, and continues to mutter about “The Lost Compendium”.

All the well water in the city has been tainted, forcing people to use boiled seawater. This has caused merchants with clean water to skyrocket their prices, even when selling to the sick who need clean water for medical purposes.

Several famous paintings and sculptures headed for the museum were stolen off a ship, and clues trace the culprit down into the sewers. Rumors of flesh-hungry, oversized sea life keep the detectives out even as the museum curators plead with them to continue looking.

Large rocks float like driftwood on the waves, but have the impact of a thrown boulder when hitting ships, causing them to dock. No one has been able to figure out why or how this is happening, but the sailors in town are getting unruly.

Two ships belonging to noble houses in the city had a minor collision just outside of the port’s waters, and both have returned with different stories of what happened. One claims the other simply rammed into them on purpose, the other says they tried to turn out of the way but purple waters propelled them forward.

New, strange looking fish followed a vessel back into town and now populate the water. They are tasty and non-poisonous, but the rest of the marine life is being killed as a result of their overpopulation, causing alarm as semi-magical pearls that grow in the harbor are one of the city’s biggest exports.

All of the wheat and flour coming into the city, regardless of ship or original port, is making people sick. Some claim that it was a curse put on captains who refused to succumb to a sea witch, while others say that they must have angered the goddess of the sea.

People from a certain foreign country are being arrested as soon as they land in the city, but aren’t seen again. People have heard the guard telling them that they will be held in cells until some clarification arrives, but people visiting the cells say that they’re all empty.

A dead body was found in the waters close to the port. Strangely, it wasn’t water-logged and the victim didn’t appear to have drowned or been stabbed, but rather badly burned.

A debtor who loans to ship captains is looking for enforcers after his last few were “dealt with”. Says that anyone who can get his money back from Captain McGregior and his crew can take a share of 20%. Reportedly, Captain McGregior had taken an astronomically large loan from the debtor.

A strange new ship has docked in port, and all seems normal during the day. However, in the moonlight at certain angles, part of the ship appears decrepit and the flag changes from that of a friendly country to a tattered flag of a long lost kingdom.

After a large sea serpent that was terrorizing sailor near port was dealt with, activists have been protesting to not hurt any more of them regardless of what they do to sailors. This is causing a large rift between the seafaring folk and these activists, and the local government doesn’t know what to do.

A ship belonging to a friendly crew of Frost Giants has docked, blocking off most of the port and thus blocking other ships from docking. While the city is glad to have the friendly giants and their amazing wares, people are getting worried since the giants don’t show any sign of leaving anytime soon.

After docking to refresh their supplies, and ship transporting exotic animals and monsters was raided, and the creatures released! While some of them have been captured, others are still lurking about the city. The captain is offering a hefty reward for any creatures brought back safely and unharmed, while the city is offering a reward for caught or killed.

A black sludge has been creeping onto the hulls of ships and into the seams. Just yesterday a sailor sleeping inside a ship was found covered in the sludge which had hardened to a cocoon, and those who found him say he his body had started to transform.

An old man claiming to really be the avatar of the god of the ocean warns the people of the port city to stay out of the sea for the next three weeks, lest they bring destruction to the city. Of course, no one heeds the man and they say that he is crazy.

People are woken up in the middle of the night to a small naval battle going on just off the coast of the city. Neither ship is native to the port but one ship is clearly flying pirate flags and both are reckless with their attacks, occasionally hitting other ships or buildings in the city.

After being angered by a reckless crew throwing their trash into the ocean, a greater water elemental has appeared outside the port and has started pulling the water into a massive tidal wave. He says the port has 3 days to make amends before he unleashes the wave upon them.

A lone merfolk has come to the city, asking for aid of the land people. Apparently their kingdom is under attack by some underwater variant of goblin, and as a people the merfolk don’t keep weapons.

A ship flying the city’s flag has been set on fire and directed toward the city. It crashed into a beach just a mile south with warnings carved all over it, and the dead crew tied to the masts.

#dungeons and dragons #D&D #DnD #tabletop roleplaying #tabletop games #adventure hooks #adventure seeds #dungeon master #resources

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ibis-gt · 2 years

Text

HA. FINISHED IT. 7256 words. here’s what boots is doing in alien au. warning that the first bit is kinda heavy but he gets better i prommy. henjoyyyy

~~~~

In the deep, dark void of space, a tiny craft floated aimlessly along. Ninety percent of its electronic functions had been switched off to conserve power. All it was doing now was generating enough warmth and oxygen to keep its single occupant alive. He sat in the pitch black hull of what would undoubtedly become his coffin and thought to himself.

Had it been twenty four hours yet? He’d gotten pretty good at guessing this lately, often within minutes of the exact time. It was his only fun these days, now that he had to keep the ship’s AI powered off for most of the day. His hand crept across the console. He knew every button and switch on the thing by heart now, didn’t even need his sight to find the one panel he needed. His finger hovered over it for a second. He counted to five, then closed his eyes and hit it.

His vision behind his eyelids flared red as the lights came on, the perfect silence of the ship disturbed by the electronic humming of power flowing to the console. He cracked one eye open and read the display in front of him.

08:05:03.

Boots sighed. He’d gotten 08:02:42 yesterday, his best time yet. Soon, he was sure, he’d hit right on 08:00:00. He just needed more practice.

“Day 68 since the attack,” Boots said into the microphone in front of him. “I’ve taken to leaving the craft drifting, only using the propulsion features when I need to shift around space debris. Nothing out here could do me too much damage, anyway. I’m thinking about lowering the temperature of the craft a couple degrees. Of course the only way I’d really save energy is by dropping from 70 to 40 at minimum, but I want to ease myself into it at first. Rations are holding up okay. Got a little surprise for myself tomorrow, can’t wait to see how I’ll react. If I make it.” He scrubbed a hand over his face and sighed. “I’ve started putting out the SOS signal every five hours instead of every three. Someone’s got to come around eventually. Probably. Hopefully.” Boots paused and stared at the wall. “I mean, I’m only in the third most dangerous patch of space in the galaxy. Surely there’s tons of, oh, I dunno, wealthy merchant vessels with zero qualms about picking up random drifters down on their luck. Just gotta hold out a little longer, one’s due any day now. Any day now. Any day now. Any…” He trailed off. “Anyway. Townsend out.”

He hit the button to end the recording and watched the little file zip off into the ship’s databank. Someone’s going to have a great time listening to me slowly go insane in here when they finally find this piece of shit lifepod, Boots thought. I mean, they’re going to start a drinking game and everything. Take a shot every time I repeat myself. Take a shot every time I cut another quality of life feature to prolong my existence a little longer. Take a shot every time I fantasize about rescue. Die of alcohol poisoning by day fifty…

He smacked his face lightly with both hands, trying to break himself out of the spiral. No death talk. Can’t start down that road. Gotta keep active, gotta keep positive. Time to send out the SOS again, and then power down the ship for a bit. He pulled the radio towards himself and fiddled with the dials til he got the frequency right. He ought to just keep it set to the right channel all day, but scrambling it and resetting it when it was time to broadcast again was something else to do.

“SOS. SOS. SOS.,” he repeated in monotone. “Lifepod drifting in quadrant Zed Alpha 23, last known coordinates 235532.4234, 399324.3234, 100434.3942, relative to the system’s third star. Attack by space pirates left one known survivor. Requesting immediate pickup. Message repeats. SOS. SOS. SOS…” He repeated this a few times and switched the radio back off. He’d given up on waiting for a response a couple weeks back. Boots powered down the console and sat back in his chair.

Now the waiting game. Something tickled at the back of his mind. Had he said the numbers right in the SOS? 235532.4234, 399324.3234, 100434.3942, right? Or was it 235632.4234, 399325.3234, 100534.3942? Or 335532.4234, 399324.3234, 100434.3942. Or were all of them wrong. Or did he not know where the hell he was. When did he last do his readings? They were stored on the computer right in front of him. He could power it back on and look.

Boots bit his lip. He could power it back on and open up the chess feature. He could power it back on and open the drawing program. There were lots of ways to keep him busy and all of them would drain what little power he had so, so quickly, and leave him to die in the vacuum of space. No death talk. Think about something else.

He got out of his chair and paced the length of the ship. It was thirty steps exactly from the console at one end to the airlock at the other. Ten steps from either side of the short end. Windows lined each long end, letting him glance out at the vastness of the abyss around him. He didn’t like to stare out for too long. He’d spent the first couple days trying to count all the stars out there, but it did something strange to his head, and he’d lose all sense of time, all sense of space, all sense of himself. Movement was good, it kept him from getting lost in his own head. He didn’t exercise too strenuously, but it was probably a good time to start his basic stretches now, keep him limbered up.

He sat down and extended one leg out, tucked the other in, and reached for his toes. Hold for a count of thirty, then switch legs. Hold for a count of thirty. Switch so that one leg was tucked under his body, the other extended behind him. Hold for a count of thirty. Switch legs. On and on, he cycled through pose after pose, held, and switched. It hit him that he was probably going to be in better shape physically after this than he’d been in a while, just because now he had a regular routine. He couldn’t help it. A fit of giggles overtook him, and he lost the pose he was holding, collapsing in a twitching heap on the floor as he laughed. Oh god. He’d really lost it, hadn’t he.

It was a few hours later by his best guess, and about time to send out the next SOS. Boots’s hand hovered over the panel, he counted to five, and he turned on the ship’s console. 1:15:53. Not bad. Just as he reached for the radio, the ship’s AI spoke for the first time in days.

“Alert! Incoming vessel! Titan-class, threat level maximal. Evasive maneuvers highly recommended.”

Boots gaped at the screen in front of him, displaying a pixelated version of his surroundings. In the middle lay a tiny green dot that represented his craft. The entire left side of the display was taken up by a massive blue shape, closing in on his location with a slow, deliberate pace. It was so much to process all at once that all he could do was stare while his mind tried to catch up.

Why hadn’t the AI alerted him before - it was turned off. Of course. Proximity sensors had been designated obsolete on day twelve. This vessel must have heard his SOS. A good thing? Or a bad thing? Titan-class vessels were nearly all designed for combat. More importantly, they were designed specifically for giants. Space-faring species were given class designations based on size, and Titan-class vessels could hold anywhere from class five to class twelve species - beings that stood between twenty to a hundred feet tall. Boots remembered the basic size sheet plastered in practically every ship’s manual and shuddered, remembering how miniscule humans looked at class two compared to the rest. The ship in front of him was no doubt teeming with sixty foot tall behemoths armed to the gills. So much for the kind-hearted merchants he’d dreamed of. They were scavengers, probably, vultures here to pick his carcass clean. Boots let out a little involuntary laugh. Good luck, boys, there’s nothing here of any value. Except -

His eyes darted to the cabinet that held tomorrow’s surprise. Well. He wasn’t going to make it to tomorrow to have it then, was he? Might as well have it now. Boots stumbled over, shock making his legs go wobbly and weak. He yanked the cabinet open and pulled out the little flask that held his secret stash of whiskey, kept safe all those years since he’d pulled it out of the wreckage of some party yacht.

Boots wandered over to stand in front of the windows, gazing out at the approaching vessel. It was so huge he couldn’t see all of it at once, could only make out a row of lights and the edge of some massive energy cannon. It was drifting inexorably closer. They’d be upon him in minutes.

“To 69,” Boots said, holding the flask aloft. “And 420. And all the other funny numbers.” With that, he tossed back the ounce of amber liquid, savoring the burn as it cascaded down his throat and settled in his gut.

A numbness hit him as he took in his fate. It was inevitable, wasn’t it? If he was lucky, they’d power up that cannon and blast him into space dust. If he was unlucky, they’d take him aboard to have some fun with him. His mind’s eye filled the vessel with dozens of huge, mean space pirates, all eager to get their hands on the piddling little human and pull him apart like taffy. No death talk. Look on the bright side. At least something was finally happening.

He flinched as a bright green beam shot out from the vessel, engulfing his lifepod entirely. Since he also wasn’t incinerated instantly, he assumed it was some kind of tractor beam rather than a laser cannon. His assumption was proved right when the front of the vessel yawned open like the titanic maw of some great whale and his tiny lifepod was pulled into it.

The pod settled on the floor of the vessel’s loading bay, and Boots pushed his nose up to the glass to get a look at his new surroundings. Huge metal crates lashed with thick ropes sat on all sides. He squinted at a marking stamped on the side of the nearest crate and the pit of his stomach dropped. Those were Service symbols. He’d been caught by the stars-damned space police.

Boots chewed his lip and tried to think. Had he been involved in anything big lately? There was that fuel heist the other month, but surely everyone had forgotten about that by now. Anyway, he’d only helped with intel, there was no way they knew he even had irons in that fire. Unless someone ratted him out? No, the crew was too tight-knit for that. But who knew what had happened while he’d been lost out here? He was so out of the loop, they could have found all kinds of info. Wait, there was no way they even knew it was him. He didn’t put his name or any identifying information in the SOS, and even if they had some voice recognition software, his had grown weird and cracked from disuse, and the radio was shit. It had to be too distorted for anyone to recognize. No way they knew it was him. No way.

Boots was shaken from his reverie, literally, as the whole ship rattled, a massive THOOM echoing through the loading bay. It was followed by another, and another, growing steadily closer. He shoved his face to the glass again and saw a gigantic pair of boots thudding towards where his piddling little lifepod sat. He scrambled for something, anything, he could use as a weapon, but of course it was fruitless. He hadn’t had time to grab a blaster in the mad dash for the lifepod back on the ship so many weeks ago, and even if he had the behemoth coming towards him was too huge for it to have any effect. Could he try to hide? Play dead? It would be absurd, of course, they’d clearly heard his cry for help. But if he just didn’t come out, what would they even do?

His train of thought was abruptly derailed as the footsteps stopped and the being called out to him. The voice was so loud and so deep it vibrated through Boots’ chest. “Hey, you okay in there?”

Boots was frozen, staring out the window at the toe of a boot the size of a small spacecraft. The giant waited, probably expecting him to hop on the radio and broadcast a response, or step out and talk to him. His mind raced, trying to find a way out of the situation.

“Hello? We got your distress call, are you still in there? Are you hurt?”

Boots’ eyes darted from side to side. Think. Think think think. Why was his mind a total blank? All the times in the past he’d come up with some genius plot to get him out of certain doom, and now it was like a bowl of mush up there. That’s probably what nearly seventy days of total isolation does to you, but still! The boot creaked and the light was blotted out as the being crouched down to inspect the lifepod more closely.

“Huh,” the voice continued, now sounding almost like the giant was talking to themself. “That looks like a Harlequin-class lifepod. Couple modifications to it, too. Those fins aren’t standard… And that radio array… Hm.”

Shit! Shit! Shit! All those definitely illegal mods were not going to leave a good impression. He needed to do something to distract them, and fast.

“I’m going to pick up your lifepod now,” the voice boomed, back at full volume. “I’ll be as careful as I can, but please hold on to something to secure yourself.”

Finally, Boots’ body kicked into gear. He flattened himself against the wall next to the window, hopefully hidden from view from the giant. A quiet thud reverberated through the lifepod as the giant’s hand wrapped around the hull. Boots could see the tips of their fingers through the other set of windows, and the sheer size of the huge blue digits made him shiver. If the giant wanted to, they could crush his pod like an empty beer can. His stomach churned with the thought and with the motion as he was lifted up into the air. He could just imagine the giant’s eye on the other side of the glass right next to him, scanning through the little vessel. What would they see? An open cabinet, empty food containers strewn across the floor, but otherwise no signs of life. And then what would they do?

Boots got his answer as the giant turned the lifepod around in their hands and looked in the other side. He was caught like a deer in the headlights, clearly visible through the windows opposite him. Ah. Well. So much for that.

The giant appeared to be a deep blue-green all over. All Boots could see was part of his face and his eye, which was a completely blank milky green color, no iris or pupil visible. It still seemed able to see him, the muscles around it contracting slightly as it widened in surprise upon spotting him. The lid settled back down and the giant spoke again.

“Please exit your craft and submit for questioning.” Most of the concerned, caring tone was gone. This was a brusque, official order. Boots swallowed hard, but his fear was evaporating in the face of a sudden wave of anger. He hadn’t survived all on his own for two months just to turn himself in quietly. He pushed himself away from the wall, fury making him bold.

“Like hell I will!” Boots screeched. “You’ll never take me alive, you bastards!” He held out his middle finger and waved it at the giant. Then he tried a couple other rude hand gestures for good measure, in case it didn’t understand the first one. The eye narrowed. Ah good, it had gotten the message.

The floor under Boots’ feet tilted as the giant turned the ship on its side, and he first slid, then tumbled head over heels down towards the console, smacking into it hard enough to daze him for a moment. He watched, sprawled out on his back, as the other end of the ship was crushed between the giant’s fingers and ripped away, leaving a sparking hole in the hull. He felt the ship begin to shift again and he scrabbled for a hold on the console as it tipped the other way. He’d barely managed to get his arms around a monitor before he was dangling in the air over the hole in the ship. He could just make out some huge blue-green surface waiting just below the opening, and had enough brain power not dedicated solely to fear to be utterly incensed that the man was trying to dump him out like the last tic tac.

As if to compound this mental image, the ship began to shake gently up and down, then more insistently, and finally Boots lost his hold on the monitor and went plummeting down to the surface below. He expected to smack into a hard surface and break something, but found himself bouncing on something soft and leathery. Boots pushed himself up on his elbows and glanced blearily around. Ah. Of course. It was a hand. Presumably the same hand that had torn his ship apart like wet tissue paper. And here he was, completely at its mercy, a little drunk on fear and alcohol. Well, he wasn’t about to go out without a fight. He got unsteadily to his feet and whirled around to face the being, and his screams of defiant rage died in his throat.

Huge blank eyes half as tall as he was glared down at him out of a face the size of a house. It bore an expression of disgusted bemusement, like Boots was something small and pitiful and half-dead that a pet had dragged in. A pair of goatlike green horns sprouted from the man’s head and swept back in an arc. His thick beard and hair were a deep, rich blue that almost hurt to look at after being stuck in such low light for so long. A jagged scar cut through his left eye, extending from just above the brow to down below the cheek. A silver symbol on chest clearly marked him as the captain of this vessel.

The captain tucked the remnants of Boots’ lifepod in the chest pocket of his uniform. Then he extended a finger and pinned Boots to his palm as he brought him in closer for inspection.

With just the tip of his finger he’d rendered Boots completely immobile. No amount of squirming could get him free, so he was helpless as the man took in his rumpled clothes, his pale, wan face, his tangled mop of hair. The captain’s nose scrunched and he pulled back a little. Oh, yeah. He hadn’t had a shower in a few weeks. He’d grown used to stewing in his own juices while trapped in that little ship, his own sense of smell shutting down to protect himself forever ago.

“No insignia or mark of rank,” the captain murmured, and even speaking quietly his voice vibrated through Boots’ chest. “Buuuut…” The finger lifted and prodded him in the side, flipping him over onto his back. “A-ha. Thought so.”

Oh, shit, Boots thought. The jacket. The decal on the back. The one that loudly proclaimed him as a member of the galaxy’s most notorious junker gang.

“That’s, uh, not mine,” Boots lied. “Found it in the lifepod.”

“Uh-huh,” the captain rumbled. “Sure. Is your name Townsend, by chance?”

Shit. That was also on the decal. “Y - no. Not at all. It’s, uh… Frank.” He got nothing but scathing silence in return. Boots rolled over, shoving the man’s finger aside. “You can’t prove anything. I plead the 17th.”

“Look, Frank,” The captain began. Boots couldn’t be sure, but he thought he rolled his eyes when he said it. “I’m not here to arrest you or whatever. You’re protected under Distress Law, even if you had a warrant on you I couldn’t do it. But I’ve got my eye on you, junker. Anything on this ship goes missing, I’ll know who did it.”

“Oh, sure, pick on the guy who’s been lost in the void of space for three months,” Boots spat. “One hell of a rescue.”

“We’ll get you cleaned up and fed, set you down on the first space station we come across,” the captain said, ignoring him. “We’ve got a human on board, you can borrow some of his clothes, probably. You look about the same size.”

“How the hell would you know,” Boots grumbled, but under his breath. His senses were starting to come back to him. Even if he were protected under whatever law, pissing off a guy the size of a skyscraper wasn’t a smart move. But Boots had been making smart moves for three months now and he was exhausted. As the captain turned to lumber out of the airlock and towards the rest of the ship, it hit him. He’d done it. He’d survived. He’d been rescued.

Relief, grief, and euphoria in equal measure spread through his body like a wave. An uncontrollable giggle burst out of him, just a short, hyena-like bark at first. He slapped a hand over his mouth to stifle it, but more came, wracking his body, and soon he was laughing and sobbing all at once, convulsing uncontrollably as the captain stared down at him in concern.

“Are you… good?”

“I’m great,” Boots sighed, and fully passed out.

He came to slowly, in a haze, lying facedown on some hard metallic surface. High above him, the voice of the captain rang out as he argued with someone.

“... a little thief, some junker, I don’t want him roaming around the ship on his own. I’m not saying we throw him in the brig but he needs an escort or something.”

A pause as they responded, but whoever it was, their voice was too quiet to hear.

“No offense, Algers, but you’re not exactly… have you ever been in combat? Had any practice with that stun gun you’re carrying? Hand to hand combat, de-escalation training, anything like that? …Yeah. I don’t want you following the hardened criminal around. You’re more likely to be a hostage than a captor. Ow! Hey! I am the captain of this ship, you know.”

That last bit sounded nearly coy and playful. Boots shook his head and tried to sit up. A bone-deep exhaustion permeated his whole body. It took every ounce of willpower he had to slide an arm under him and lever himself up on his elbow. He managed to glance muzzily around and took in the scene. He was laying on the console of the captain’s chair in the main command center. The chair was set up on a dias overlooking a swath of computers and monitors lining the wall against the front window of the vessel, showing the stars as they raced past at just under light speed. The captain himself was standing some distance away, talking to seemingly nobody. There were only a few other crew members in the room, mostly manning navigational consoles. They were all huge, but none were quite the size of the captain. No one was looking at Boots.

Ha. An escort would’ve been a great idea, Boots thought, because I’m getting the hell out of here right now. He got one leg under him and pushed himself up to his knees. His head swam with the motion and he nearly toppled over backwards. He felt horribly lightheaded and top heavy at the same time, like his head was stuffed with cotton balls but his neck wasn’t strong enough to support his skull. It gave him a queasy floating feeling, like he was being tossed around on ocean waves. Boots swallowed hard to quell the nausea and got to his feet, legs shaking ever so slightly. After the dark, cramped confines of his lifepod, the huge open space and bright lights of the cockpit made his senses scream with overstimulation. But like hell was he going to stick around and wait to see which giant monster would be his babysitter. He’d commandeer another lifepod - this one at least would be more spacious than the last - and get himself back to headquarters to report the loss of the vessel.

Movement to his left caught his attention, and he turned just in time to see two massive paws place themselves on the console. Boots stared into a huge pair of curious canine eyes, with several smaller sets of eyes around them. A big wet nose snuffled in his direction. A giant mouth opened and panted happily, letting a huge tongue loll out and splat onto the console. Then it lunged for him. Boots didn’t even have time to scream.

By the time he’d realized what had happened, he was being carried by the back of his jacket through the corridors of the ship, dangling some fifteen feet off the ground. The dog-like alien that had nabbed him was joined by two others that tried to duck their heads under his captor’s chin to sniff and nip at Boots. He kicked at them as they got near, but only succeeded in making himself twist and spin, once nearly falling out of his jacket altogether. From then on he opted to hang on for dear life.

At last he was lowered to the ground and let go, but before he could move, those noses were on him again, sniffing and snuffling, mussing up his hair, his clothes, nearly knocking his glasses off. He curled into a ball and tried to play dead, but one of them nudged him over onto his back and licked him. Immediately he was drenched in slobber, and knew he had to act before this went any farther.

“Okay, okay, okay, okay! Down! Back! Get away! Bad dog!” Boots scrambled to his feet and held his hands out, backing away from the three giant alien dogs staring down at him. They whined and tilted their heads, one holding up a front paw like it was going to take a hesitant step towards him. He pointed at that one and said “No!” as firmly as he could. The paw lowered slowly.

“Right. Okay.” Boots wiped as much of the slobber off his face as he could and shook his head, trying to get the stuff out of his hair. “No more of that. Ugh, it’s everywhere…” He shook his arms and swiped at his clothing, knocking more of it away.

The dog aliens whined softly and made sad eyes at him. Now that he wasn’t in danger of being licked to death, Boots got a better look at the pack. They were huge, each about twenty feet tall at the shoulder, with vaguely canine forms. They had six legs and long, thin tails that curled and flicked behind them. The one on the right was solid green, the one in the middle was a greyish blue, and the one on the left was green with lighter splotches. Rightie had folded ears, while Leftie’s were bolt upright, and Middle had one up, one down. They all had weird gadgets and gizmos strapped to them, too. Rightie had a set of goggles over their main set of eyes and a pair of saddlebags on either side. Middle had a single eye scanner and a pack that looked to be full of pipes and wires. Leftie had no goggles and a toolbox slung on their right. All three bore collars with the Service insignia and a speaker on the front. Just as Boots started to wonder what it was all for, Leftie spoke.

“Human?” The voice crackled out of the speaker on their collar. “New human? We have a new human?”

“Smells funny,” Middle chimed in. “Lots of smell. Smells a lot.”

“For us do you think? Captain’s smell on him. New friend? New family?” Rightie’s tail started to wag, and the other two perked up, Middle dancing in place.

“New family! New family!” The three of them repeated over each other, riling each other up. Boots tried to back up again, but before he could get far, Leftie lunged forward again, this time bowling him over and smushing him between their face and the floor. The other two joined in, trying to push each other out of the way to scent mark him.

“Okay! New family! That’s enough!” Boots yelled, managing to get a hand on the nearest snout. He pushed with all his strength, but it wasn’t until the alien gave in and pulled back that he was able to get upright again. “A little breathing room, please.”

The dogs obliged, laying their faces down mere feet away from him. He could see their whip-like tails wagging away and could only imagine the damage those things could cause. Huh… there was a thought.

“I’m… part of the pack now, huh?” Boots eyed them carefully. They seemed to be doing what he said. Maybe they’d recognized his natural leadership abilities and designated him the Alpha of the group. It made perfect sense. He grinned. “Okay then, listen up. Here’s what we’re going to do…”

Boots wasn’t much of a tactician, but he figured he didn’t need to be if he had three giant alien dogs at his command. He’d mounted up on Middle, whose name he learned was Y, and had X - Leftie - and Z - Rightie - follow on either side. His plan was simple: rush the command center, take out the captain, and take control of the ship. All they’d need was one well-aimed bite to the jugular and it was all over. These things had viciously sharp teeth, he’d learned. Once he’d proven he could best the biggest guy on the ship, everyone else would fall in line. That’s how it always worked in junker circles, anyway.

They reached the door to the command center. Boots gave the signal to wait, calling out a quiet “whooaa, there,” and pulling on Y’s collar. The three obediently ground to halt, X and Z looking up expectantly at him.

“Okay, remember the plan,” Boots said. “On my signal, Z, you trip the door, and Y, you make straight for the captain. We do this quick and clean.”

“Yes! Yes! Surprise Captain!” Y’s collar said, and they yipped happily.

“Shh!” Boots hissed. “Stealth mission, remember? X, you be ready to take out anyone near the door who might try to stop us. We only get one shot. Ready?”

The dogs gave him a huff and a nod. Boots took a deep breath to steady himself, raised an arm, and swept in down in an arc.

“Go!”

Z hopped up on their hind legs and hit the open door button with a paw. X burst through the door first, surprising a tall, gangly orange creature who’d been loitering next to it. Boots grinned as he heard them yelp in surprise, falling over backwards under a ton of excited dog alien.

“Now, Y! ATTAAAAAAACK!”

Captain Mersharc whipped around, staring in open-mouthed shock at his incoming doom. Boots smiled grimly, ready for the bloodshed to come.

Y trotted up to Captain Mersharc, tail a-wagging, with precisely none of the expediency or viciousness Boots had demanded. Mersharc glared at the human who was kicking his heels furiously into Y’s side and yelling. He knelt down and plucked Boots up by the back of his jacket, holding him up in the air while he gave Y some quick chin scritches, finishing with a ruffle of the ears and a pat on the head. Then he stood and regarded the struggling human with tired exasperation.

“Did you get it out of your system yet?” Captain Mersharc asked. “I can let you kick the air a while longer if you want.”

Boots quit kicking and glared right back at Mersharc. He folded his arms, trying very hard not to look like a pouting child and failing miserably.

“Anyway, before you made your little daring escape, I was going to have Luther here be your escort around the ship.”

Boots glanced around for whatever horrifying giant monster was called Luther, but was surprised to see the Captain gesture at a figure perched on his shoulder. A human man sat there, legs hooked into a pair of fabric loops to keep him secured. He waved at Boots and shrugged.

“Took him forever to wear me down on that, too, so great job letting all that effort go to waste,” Captain Mersharc continued. “Instead, I think I’ll be keeping an eye on you.”

Boots opened his mouth to protest, but couldn’t get a word out before he was unceremoniously dumped in the same chest pocket that had once held his lifepod, although that was now thankfully absent. He tumbled down the side of the fabric chute, landing with a soft ‘oof’ at the bottom. The pocket was dark, with only a sliver of light filtering from the opening up top, and it practically pulsed with the huge, slow THUMP-THUMP, THUMP-THUMP of the captain’s heart beat. Just as Boots struggled to his feet, a firm pressure slammed him against the brick wall that was the Captain’s chest. It let up, then squeezed him once more, hard enough to force the air out of his lungs. He slid to the bottom again, dazed, and realized Captain Mersharc must have patted his pocket to secure him. Suddenly Boots felt far less inclined to act out. The Captain had been remarkably gentle with him, all things considered, and he didn’t want to find out what it was like when he was being rough.

“Careful,” he heard a small voice say. It must have been Luther up on the captain’s shoulder. “Humans are delicate, remember?”

“He’ll be fine,” Mersharc grumbled. His voice had vibrated through Boots’ chest before, but now that he was pressed up against the man’s chest it practically rattled his teeth in his skull. “He’s probably survived worse.”

“He can hear you!” Boots shouted. Mersharc chuckled, and Boots’ whole body shook again.

“See? He’s fine.”

“Hmm. Can I talk to him?” Luther’s voice sounded closer now, like he’d moved along the captain’s shoulder.

“C’mon in!” Boots called.

“All right, but.. Be careful, eh?” Mersharc murmured. If he was trying to keep Boots from overhearing, it was pointless.

Boots saw the tips of Mersharc’s fingers dip into the pocket, forming a little ramp that Luther clambered down. Boots patted the fabric next to him, inviting Luther to take a seat, and studied the man carefully. Short, curly brown hair, big sweet hazel eyes, a smattering of freckles, and a big round nose. Just as he’d suspected. The man was unbearably cute. Boots resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Luther didn’t seem to notice his disdain, fishing in his pocket for something.

“The captain asked me to look through the lifepod and bring you any personal effects but there kind of… weren’t any. Except this?” Luther held out the flask that’d held Boots’ whiskey. It had his full name and an illustration of a pair of boots hanging from a wire engraved on one side. Boots took it reverentially and tucked it in his jacket pocket.

“Thanks. Thought I’d lost that when the big guy ripped my ship apart. Got some sentimental value.”

“I found it wedged behind the console,” Luther offered. “Hunear did a sweep of the floor in the airlock just in case, too. Sorry the captain, uh… got a bit rough with your ship. He can have a kind of short temper at times.”

“Hmph. Especially if he’s already decided what kind of person you are,” Boots grumbled, folding his arms. He hunched up and looked away, biting his lip to try and smother the little pang of grief that shot through him at the thought of his ship. It was probably beyond repair at this point, which meant its AI wasn’t recoverable. It’d helped keep him sane for half his voyage, running chess games, popping up fun science facts, even holding brief conversations. It wasn’t advanced enough to have a whole personality, but it was all he had until day thirty, when he’d had to shut it off to conserve power. As soon as he got another drink he’d pour a little out for it.

“Well, from what I heard, you flipped him the bird, the qaronk, the wheel, and the flitz,” Luther counted on his fingers, “plus a few others he didn’t know, and said he’d ‘never take you alive, copper’?”

“Uh… close enough” Boots muttered. “It wasn’t my best moment, sure. But that’s no reason for him to treat me like a criminal.”

Luther’s eyes darted to Boots’ jacket, and he gave Boots a Look. “Uh huh.”

“Look, it’s not like that!” Boots protested, spreading his hands out in front of him. “Okay, okay, I’m involved in some shady stuff, but I don’t do the actual stealing, I’m just the fence!”

“You’re knowingly transporting stolen goods, and you think that makes you better than the people you work with?”

Boots scoffed and shook his head. “It’s a rough galaxy out there, kid. We don’t all get to choose to keep our hands clean. I don’t kill anybody, and I don’t steal from people who can’t afford it. That’s as good as it gets.”

The comment seemed to strike a chord with Luther. He looked away and fidgeted with his wrist communicator, avoiding Boots’ eyes. “Well… maybe this is how you get out of it. I’ll put in a good word with the captain, maybe we can take you with us. I’m sure you’ve got some skills we could use - tenacity and survival, if nothing else…”

“Ha! Like hell. I’m sure if it weren’t for whatever law he’d’ve thrown me out the airlock by now.”

“You’ve got him all wrong. He’s just very protective of his crew. Any perceived threats make his hackles rise. And people on this ship get very… attached very quickly. You get someone on board to like you, he’ll warm up soon enough.”

“I got the dogs, didn’t I?”

Luther winced. “Yippers. They’re called Yippers. And you immediately tried to use them to mutiny, so I don’t think that put you in his good books. You’re going to need someone else to vouch for you.”

“Someone like you?” Boots raised an eyebrow.

“Well. Yes.” Luther brushed his hair out of his eyes, looking sheepish. “The captain and I do have a certain… understanding.”

“Huh.” Boots looked critically at Luther for a minute. “You two dating or something?”

Luther went red as a beet. “N-no! I mean! We’re just! We’re very good friends. It’s not like - I mean, he’s my superior officer, and all, it wouldn’t be appropriate, and anyway it’s none of your business!”

“So you are dating.”

Luther was saved from stammering out another reply by a massive blue finger and thumb that snagged the back of his uniform and lifted him out.

“That’s enough of that,” Captain Mersharc rumbled. “Back to your post, Officer Algers.”

Boots blew a strand of hair out of his face and smirked, leaning back against the side of the pocket. Ah. So it was like that, was it. Mister big scary alien had a soft spot for the cute little human. He’d have to remember that in case he could leverage it somehow later. Boots and Luther looked fairly alike, at least in that they both had chin-length brown hair and fair skin. But Luther was all soft roundness where Boots was sharp angles, and maybe that had something to do with it. He’d just have to perfect his innocent eyes and hope for the best.

He scratched at the patchy beard that’d grown in during his isolation. Hey, there was a thought. Wasn’t he supposed to get a bath at some point? And the Yipper slobber didn’t count. He stood up and yanked at the fabric against the captain’s chest.

“I’m not letting you out so you can terrorize my communications officer some more,” Mersharc said without looking down.

“I want a bath!” Boots yelled. That got the captain’s attention. He glanced down, one eyebrow raised.

“Oh? Okay, we can probably facilitate that.” He started to reach into the pocket, but Boots smacked his finger as it drew near.

“I’m sick of getting hoisted around like a sack of potatoes! You dangle me in the air one more time, I swear I’m gonna barf on you.” Boots had been ready for an argument, but he wasn’t expecting the captain to burst out laughing.

“Alright, alright, fair enough,” he said. “Here.” He reached in and curled his index finger around Boots’ back, pressing his thumb against his middle to keep him secure. Then he lifted Boots out and set him in his other palm. “How’s that?”

Boots blinked in the sudden light. He craned his neck to either side, taking in his surroundings, and noted that Luther was back on Mersharc’s shoulder. Presumably his post, then.

“Yeah, this’ll work. So about that bath? And I need to shave.”

Mersharc hmm’d for a second, rubbing his top lip with a finger. “Spose you could use the sink in my quarters for the bath. Algers, you got your multitool?”

Luther pulled a small silver rod from his belt and pushed himself forwards, sliding off the captain’s shoulder. Without missing a beat, the captain moved his hand over so that Luther landed neatly on his palm next to Boots.

“Here. It’s got a shave function.” Luther held the tool out to Boots.

For a half second, a possible future flitted through Boots’ mind. He could reach for the tool, but feint and pull Luther into a hold that would only take the slightest of twitches to snap his neck. He’d be in the palm of the captain’s hand, but he’d have all the power. Mersharc wouldn’t dare make a move for fear of losing his precious human. He could hold the whole ship hostage, get them to go anywhere, take whatever he wanted, and ride home in style…

The moment passed. Boots took the tool from Luther with a nod of thanks. He glanced up and caught the look on Mersharc’s face. He’d expected Boots to make a move, and he was genuinely surprised he hadn’t. Boots gave him a wry smile and flipped his hair out of his face. “I clean up nice,” he said, winking at the captain. “You’ll see.”

Maybe he could make it work with this crew after all.

#writing #g/t #giant tiny #cam and luther #alien au #beauregard orlando townsend #cam mersharc #luther algers #WORK WITH ME ON THIS ONE i ran out of steam.#and expect a morning reblog it's Late #also patch notes: cam's like 100 ft tall now bc i decided i wanted him Bigger.

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charlesoberonn · 3 years

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“I’m not a fool, I’m a dreamer.”

This was my response whenever somebody doubted me or my expedition. “You’re not going to find anything.” they warned me. I didn’t listen to them. I knew where I was going, and what I was looking for.

On the morning of December 23rd our ship started sloshing against the Antarctic sea ice. This far south the difference between morning and night was starting to get blurry. Especially in this season. Still, it meant more light for us to navigate the cold and treacherous waters.

My sailors became anxious, as sailors are ought to be. The ship was starting to take hits on both starboard and port. And the cold water’s reduced buoyancy made it seem like any second the dark blue would swallow the entire vessel whole.

“Keep at it, men.” I told them. And to their credit, they did. We faced the shifting frozen maze for another day and a half, taking turns sleeping in the single room we could afford to keep warm.

Finally, after that entire ordeal, we made it. The sun was low in the sky, as low as it gets in this latitude and season. The ice cleared, the water warmed up, it was back to smooth sailing. We all shared a warm mug of beer we saved up for just this moment.

It took only a couple hours more until our destination was in sight. The gleaming white towers of the Antarctic Capital welcomed us before the citizens themselves did. The city’s symbol, an eagle and a penguin clasping wings, glowed in the low light.

And all around the towers the electric lights of celebration shone and blinked in a myriad of colors. “It’s Christmas, boys!” I announced. And my sailors cheered with me. We made it on time.

Our ship went into port smoothly, the locals helping us dock and climb onto the smooth grey pier. The local girls in particular were very interested in me and my fellow sailors. They giggled and danced for us in their thin robes of blue fabric. In the distance we could see the freezing tundra. But here in the city it was warm, even positively tropical.

An older woman approached me. From her golden robes I could tell she was important. She bowed a traditional Antarctic bow and I bowed in return. She just giggled, and I blushed, having apparently done something slightly untoward.

She smiled and gave me a blue ribbon. I went to accept it but she drew it back, and signaled me to extend my hand. I did as was told, and she gently tied the ribbon around my index finger. It was cold to the touch, but not unpleasant.

“She is waiting for you.” she told me. And I knew instantly who she was talking about you.

I thanked her and went on my way to the main tower. Around me the streets of the capital were green and red with trees and flowers and Christmas lights. The atmosphere all around me was festive. I looked back and saw my sailors were having fun as well, and had local ladies put ribbons on their fingers too. I smiled.

Before the tower, I stopped at a place selling Antarctic flowers. They were beautiful, and the flower merchant was even more beautiful than them. But even she didn’t match your beauty.

“How much?” I asked her. And she just turned her head and laughed. Her laughter reminded me of you.

She gestured me to extend my hand. I did as I was told, and she pulled out another blue ribbon and wrapped it around my pinkie. It was cold to the touch, but bearable. She then placed a single red flower in my hand.

“Thank you.” I said, and went on my way.

The doors at the base of the tower were huge. But luckily for me, as soon as I arrived, somebody came and opened them. The man seemed grim and dark in his disposition, completely opposite to the atmosphere around us.

“Cheer up, lad. It’s Christmas.” I told him. He just sighed and nodded to me.

“No, come on. I want you to smile.” I said. The man stared back at me, bewildered.

“She is waiting for you, sir.” he replied. And I frowned.

“Fine.” I said, and went inside, leaving the man to his grimness.

“Wait. Stop.” he said as I was already a few steps up the pristine marble stairs. “You’re right. It is Christmas.” he showed me a smile.

I smiled back at him.

“Here.” he said, showing me a blue ribbon. It was a bit rugged and old. “I got this one when I first came here. I don’t need it anymore.”

“Thank you,” I said, and I extended my hand to let the man wrap the old ribbon around my middle finger. His touch was rough and he tied it a little too tight, but I could handle it.

Only my ring finger was ribbonless now. I was almost proud.

I climbed the steps. There were more of them then I expected, and the climb was starting to wear on my body. My hand began to hurt around where the ribbons were, but I withstood it.

Every floor there was a window to the outside. And every floor I could see more of the shining festive city. I smiled. I ignored that every floor I could also see the frozen tundra just outside the city limits.

Finally, after a treacherous climb, I made it to the roof. The entire city was laid out before me. The glowing streets, the other towers, even the port where my sailors were still dancing and having fun with the locals. But I didn’t pay much heed to the view. Because you were there.

“I’m sorry I kept you waiting.” I gave you the flower. You took it, and you smiled.

“Sit with me.” you said, and I did as you told me.

“The lights down there are beautiful.” I said. “Is this what you experienced every day while you waited for me?”

“It’s not the lights down there I care about. It’s the lights up here.” you said and leaned back against the railing as you looked up.

I looked up with you. The sun finally went down, and above us the only light was the cascade of flowing colors. Like a river piercing through the darkness.

“I used to think that maybe when you finally came for me, you’d be sailing up there. In the river of light.” you chuckled, and your laugh was just like I remembered it.

“That’s silly.” I said, and I looked down so I could see your face.

“All of this is silly.” you looked back at me.

“What do you mean?”

“You know it can’t be real, right?” you raised a curious eyebrow. I blushed. “This city.” you continued. “The tower. The lights. Me.”

I looked back up. The midnight sun returned. “Yes, of course.” I said.

“I’m not a fool. I’m a dreamer.” I said. You kissed my cheek. Your lips were cold to the touch.

“Give me your hand. You still have a finger left.”

“Already? But I just got here.”

Still, I did as I was told. You pulled out another blue ribbon and wrapped it around my ring finger. It was so cold. I couldn’t feel a thing.

“Thank you.” I said, and I looked back up at the sky one last time before closing my eyes.

#charles writes #writing #long post

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ravens-words · 3 years

Text

Buddie Fic Recs (1/?)

Some of y'all asked for Buddie fic recs, and I am here to deliver 😌

If you want to be tagged in any futur ones I do, let me know please (asks, messages, replies, anything goes)

Long Fics (50+k)

♣️ The Space Between Sleep by Tattered_Dreams (Complete)

As weeks pass after the Tsunami, Christopher has Eddie to help him deal with the scars it left behind. He also has Buck. Buck's dealing with his own demons, but he has both of them.

Eddie's trying to keep them all together and finding out his family might not be as small as he thought.

The 118 have their few cents to add, too, because don't they always.

This is one of my favorite Buddie fics. It deals with the aftermath of the tsunami in a way that is absolutely beautiful and realistic and authentic. Christopher and Buck's relationship, and Eddie and Christopher's relationship are perfection. A thing I also really love is that it's not just a Buddie fic, it has the firefam, Maddie and Eddie'sfamily involved in a way that's just natural.

♣️ The King's Tide by yawnralphio (@dearbuck) (WIP with Regular Updates)

A captain, his ship, her crew, and a secret with the power to ruin it all.

When his merchant transport vessel is boarded by the fearsome Captain Nash and the crew of the Spark, Eddie believes his time has come.

Buckck makes him an offer he can't refuse, and he finds himself tangled up in something much bigger than he planned for.

I have never read a pirate AU fic. I have never been interested in reading a pirate AUs. But this one changed my mind. The storytelling is amazing. This author paints images with their words, and they have built an amazing, nuanced world here. With every chapter, a question is answered, and a few arise, but it's handled so well you won't be impatient and confused half the time. The friendships, the relationships, here are beyond amazing too.

♣️ Tethers by red-to-black (@redtooblack) (WIP)

Eddie's spent years trying to find a place to call home with Christopher, hoping that Shannon will come back and then desperately hoping she wouldn't. He thinks he's in the clear when she shows up at his doorstep, demanding they get back together.

Eddie comes up with a foolproof plan: get a fake boyfriend, convince Shannon he's gay, and live happily ever after with his life mostly intact and Christopher safe and happy. Get rid of fake boyfriend when Shannon gives up, and life can resume as normal.

Enter Buck, and the plan goes to hell in a handbasket.

Where do I start with this fic? First of all, it's fake dating- which is a trope I love. But it's so, so much more than that. It shows both Eddie and Buck fighting their demons, and being good for each other. It shows two adults navigating a relationship in both a healthy and realistic way. The author incorporates Canon in this fic in an amazing, seamless way. Christopher and Buck's relationship in this is perfection. I have reread this fic about five times. Tempted to reread again, ngl.

Medium Length Fics (10-50k)

❄ Home, a series by hopeintheashes

Eddie, Buck, and Christopher figuring out how to be a family.

This series has two amazing sickfics and one WIP that shows how the team, and Buddie specifically, handle the pandemic. I love these works a lot, they're always in character, always realistic and tender, and Buck and Christopher's relationship shines through, as does the love between the Diaz boys.

❄ The Ghosts That You Haunt by JessicaMDawn

The first time Evan Buckley died, he was ten.

"Apparently that won me a ticket to ghost town, because I've been seeing them ever since."

Buck can see the recently dead. It's not as glamorous as people might think.

This AU is wonderful. It's not the typical character can see ghosts fics. It's so very emotional and angsty and it hits all the right spots. Buck is such an amazing character here. The emotions are vivid and beautiful and realistic. I LOVE it.

❄ Scratch and Burn by JessicaMDawn

Christopher scratches Buck during the tsunami, but the rest of the debris hurts a lot more and Buck thinks nothing of it. The next day, however, Buck experiences a lot of changes that he doesn't know how to handle. Luckily, Eddie is there to help him through it.

Not ABO. This Werewolf AU is perfection. I love Buck's relationship with both Eddie and Christopher here. I won't say more to not spoil it, but it truly is wonderful.

❄ Buy Back the Secrets by allysavedtheday (@littlespooneven )

After getting hurt on a call, Buck wakes up thinking it's 2018. AKA Buck can't remember who Eddie is but he's pretty sure everyone's lying when they say they're "just friends."

This fic is nothing short of perfection. Amnesia fics require a very delicate balance, and this one managed that perfectly. Misunderstandings, oblivious idiots in love, it has it all. The firedam's relationships with Buck is amazing, and they shine through here.

Short Fics (1-10k)

💭 one of these days you'll miss your train by allysavedtheday

“Buck?”

Whipping his head around, his eyes land on a face he hasn’t seen up close in almost a year.

“Eddie?” he gasps in disbelief, taking in the sight of Eddie’s rumpled appearance. His shirt is ripped, Buck can see scrapes on his forearms where his sleeves are pushed up, and he’s got a nasty gash across his forehead, blood trickling down into his eyebrow. But he’s looking at Buck like he’s a prayer and a miracle all wrapped into one. “Eddie!”

His brain finally catches up with his legs and he rushes forward just as Eddie all but collapses into his embrace.

“Thank god,” Eddie heaves out raggedly, fingers clutched tightly in the back of Buck’s turnout coat.

I absolutely love this concept of Eddie replacing Abby on the train. This fic is sweet, cute and emotional. The characters are all spot on and just- it's AMAZING.

💭 help my life (be worth your while), a series by iriswests

This series is a study in perfect pacing. It has pining, it has Eddie exploring his relationship with faith and it is possibly the perfect scenario for how these two can get together.

Tagging: @djdangerlove @alwaysablossom @miss-macca @iwonderifyouwonderaboutme @mazieken @captainbfresh @aliceschuyler

#buddie fic rec #aka me finally being able to fangirl over some of my favorites as I read and reread Buddie fics during the hiatus #buddie

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bounce-a-coin-off-your-witcher · 4 years

Text

under pressure

(hey guys, welcome to another installment of the swashbuckler au. Geralt’s gonna get very very Protective in this 'chapter'.

warnings for this chapter include: a very brief mention of blood, being threatened with a knife, and mild peril)

Why? Jaskier wondered. His back was pressed tightly against the rough brick of an unfamiliar alley wall and the man who had demanded his nonexistent coin-purse was pressing the tip of a very sharp dagger just below his navel. Why am I always the one getting into these kinds of situations?

“I told you, good sir, that I have no money on my person.”

“Everyone around here keeps gold ‘im. What kind of idiot goes around a port town full of pirates without some kind of insurance against coming to harm?”

“Are you saying that because I have no money you are going to do me harm?”

“Somethin’ like that,” the man leered. The dagger pushed in again and Jaskier knew that it had ripped through the fabric of his shirt when the tip suddenly bumped against the skin of his stomach. “Since you don’t have any money you’ll just have to come back and explain this misunderstanding to my captain yourself.”

“Excuse m-”

The man yanked Geralt’s lucky red bandanna down and tugged it backwards, sliding it between his teeth and effectively gagging the ex-nobleman. He spun Jaskier around and shoved his chest up tightly to the brick. The brigand roughly yanked his hands behind his back and tied them with a length of rope that appeared from seemingly nowhere. The newly minted pirate struggled violently, kicking out his legs and wiggling his torso in an effort to dislodge or disrupt his attacker. Maybe his struggling would get someone’s attention (although it was highly unlikely in a town such as this). Unfortunately the mugger was practiced and nothing Jaskier tried seemed to bother or slow him down at all.

Starkey and Lambert were only a few feet away! He could hear the rise and fall of their voices as they bartered for supplies with the hardtack merchant around the corner. The anxious brunette whined, trying to make the sound high enough to reach his friends and crewmates. If only he could get the kerchief out of his mouth for a split second, then he could whistle or shout…

He felt the surface of the wall scratching his skin through the hole in his shirt and he frowned. That would leave an unpleasant mark for the next few days and make wearing his sword-belt an absolute nightmare. If he was still part of the Kaer Morhen’s crew by nightfall, that was. If this man didn’t succeed in his current mission of pressing Jaskier into service aboard some other pirate vessel. Jaskier’s blue eyes widened even further as a real sense of panic set in. They might not be able to find me in time. We might head out to sea before Geralt even knows I’m missing if they don’t turn around and noti-

“Hey, where’s Jaskier?” he heard Starkey ask. Oh, thank gods.

“Shit.”

“We’d better find him quickly because I can see Geralt from here,” Starkey added. “I don’t want to be the one to tell him that we lost his precious little siren while we were busy bickering with a shopkeeper.”

“Fucking hells,” Lambert groaned. C’mon, Jaskier pleaded silently. Just around the corner, lads. Please, Starkey. You guys know I’m too annoying to stay quiet for this long.

The man with the dagger had already started yanking him backwards down the alley towards a questionable-looking wagon. Jaskier’s attacker kept one hand fisted into the back of the kerchief and used it to maneuver his head around, much like one would control the reins of a horse. The ex-noble made a loud, wordless noise from behind the cloth. Muffled as he was, he was praying that any one of his crewmates heard it and felt the need to investigate.

Another stranger in dark clothing appeared around the corner and helped the first man lift Jaskier onto the back of the wagon. The newcomer reached for Jaskier’s wildly flailing legs and pulled them together. He tied the brunette’s ankles with another piece of strong hemp rope and tested the knots with his fingers for any slack or give. There was none. The young man screamed and grunted, trying with every ounce of strength he possessed to free himself from their twin grips. It was a fruitless endeavor; they were strong and clearly practiced in the art of stealing other people’s crewmembers.

“Jaskier! Oh, fuck! Hey you there, let go of him!” Lambert was running down the alley towards them, hand on the hilt of his cutlass. The man keeping the gag cinched tight pulled his dagger out again, holding it up against the column of Jaskier’s throat. The second kidnapper released Jaskier’s tied ankles and made his way towards the front of the wagon. Lambert slid to a stop, eyes narrowed threateningly. “Captain! Starkey! I found ‘im. He’s in danger!”

Had Jaskier not been scared witless by the threat of having his life ended rather abruptly via blood-loss, he probably would have smirked. These men, regardless of who their scurvy-ridden captain was, were about to get their asses handed to them by one of the most wanted pirates to ever sail the seven seas. Certainly one of the most renowned and fearsome.

The blade of the knife pressed even more tightly against the skin of his Adam's apple and Jaskier flinched. Maybe, if I even live long enough to see Geralt kick their asses. At least my death will be avenged quickly, otherwise.

As if summoned by his lover’s thoughts the handsome, white-haired Captain appeared at the opposite end of the alley. Jaskier thought he might cry from the mere sight of him. He definitely wanted to let out a relieved sob when Geralt growled out, “It’ll go easier for both of you if you just put the dagger down and release the boy now.”

The ex-noble felt his captor’s muscles twitching nervously as he released a humorless chuckle. Don’t slip up now, Jaskier prayed. Not while you’ve got a knife against my neck.

“Why should we do that?” his captor questioned. The man tugged at the already taut bandanna and Jaskier whined in pain when the damp material bit into the skin of his cheeks. The fury written across Geralt’s features was absolutely terrifying; he looked like an avenging angel, his strong stature defined by the light of the square behind him and his silvery hair wild around his face.

Jaskier didn’t want to die, not in the slightest, but this wouldn’t be the worst last sight to see, all things considered. The man tugged the material again and Jaskier’s eyes widened when his neck scraped against the edge of the dagger’s sharp blade. “He’d fetch a fair price from our captain. He’d probably fetch a very hefty bit of gold if we took him down the coast a-ways, actually. Your threats aren’t going to lose me a nice bag of coin.”

Geralt took one slow, measured step forward and drew his cutlass with an effortless extension of his arm. “I’ll give you one last chance to let him go peacefully before I start slitting throats,” he snarled. The scowl on his face would make any ordinary person soil their knickers on sight, but the man holding Jaskier had probably seen something like this before. He was experienced. He teasingly nicked the young man’s tanned skin with the dagger and Jaskier hissed. The sound had Geralt’s eyes going wide with rage. His nostrils flared and his hand twitched. The kidnapper smirked confidently as a thin line of blood beaded on the brunette's skin, “Oops.”

There was a blur of movement from Geralt’s end of the alley, a whooshing sound, and then a wet thud. The man keeping Jaskier captive fell back, dropping his dagger to the ground below as he did. Jaskier wriggled forward in an attempt to reach Geralt and ended up toppling heavily off the back of the wagon and onto the cobblestone street. Lambert dashed to his side and pulled the kerchief out from between his teeth. The younger man was panting, blue eyes wild and confused. “Did Geralt just hit that guy with a knife!?”

“Yeah.”

The ex-noble gave a short, hysterical laugh. His eyes took on a glazed, unfocused quality and Lambert looked to Geralt for help. “Neat,” he muttered.

Jaskier wasn’t sure if it was the shock of having his life legitimately threatened, the smell of his own blood invading his nose, or the impact from hitting the stone walkway, but just as Geralt knelt down at his side, he passed out.

----------

When his eyelids finally fluttered open again, Jaskier had to squint. The late-afternoon sun slanted in through the porthole of Geralt’s cabin, surrounding the grim-faced Captain with a halo of golden light. “My hero,” Jaskier sighed. He was a lucky man to have a lover so attentive, protective, and also incredibly sexy.

“Jaskier!” the pirate pulled him into a sitting position and wrapped him in a hug, crushing the slightly smaller man against his broad chest. “I was so worried that he’d gotten your vein or hurt you some other way that we couldn’t see. Are you alright, little nymph?”

“I’m alright,” he blushed. Geralt’s nose was buried stubbornly in his hair, breathing in repeatedly as if he’d been afraid he’d never see Jaskier awake again. “Really, darling, I’m just a little shaken. That’s all. I thought we were running errands today. I wasn’t expecting to be taken captive and threatened with a life of piracy.”

“You’re - Jask, you’re living a life of piracy.”

“It was a joke,” the ex-noble teased. Geralt relaxed his grip slightly and leaned back. His amber eyes searched Jaskier’s blue ones for any sign of dishonesty or hidden pain and found none. His siren was telling the truth. The Captain took a seat on the edge of his small bed and dragged his lover onto his lap. Jaskier noticed with a sly smile that he was draped in one of the White Wolf’s overly-large burgundy shirts. One he didn’t wear very often but that Jaskier found him endlessly attractive in nonetheless. “Geralt, did you change my shirt for me?”

“Your other one was ripped. It had blood on it. We also had to bandage your wounds.”

“Oh. Thank you for letting me borrow it,” Jaskier flapped his arms a little, letting the sleeves roll down over his hands. “I love roomy shirts to sleep in.”

“You can just ask to borrow them,” the Captain relented. “You don’t always need a scheme to get what you want, little nymph.”

“Hmm,” Jaskier sighed, cuddling close again. “I absolutely did not think up the idea of coming to bodily harm in order to borrow your shirts, as likely as that sounds. Thank you for rescuing me, Geralt.”

“I am not an easy man to scare,” the pirate intoned seriously. His grip on Jaskier tightened and his voice grew scratchy with emotion as he continued. “But seeing you like that today had me more frightened than I’ve ever been before in my life. I’ve faced down bigger ships with better guns and more men than mine. I was briefly incarcerated by the mayor of Novigrad and sentenced to hang. I’ve seen my fair share of scary things, my sweet siren, but I would never be able to live with myself if you came to harm. That’s the most terrifying thought of all.”

“Geralt,” the young man gasped. He wrapped his arms around his Captain’s shoulders and moved to straddle the larger man’s wide lap. He pressed a brief but bracing kiss to the White Wolf’s saltwater-chapped lips. “The thought of never seeing you again is the worst thought in the world. Let us never be parted.”

“Hmm.” Geralt’s left hand moved to grip Jaskier’s corresponding hip while his right arm went around the back of his nymph’s slender shoulders. He gently pulled their chests together and nibbled his way up the uninjured side of his little nymph’s neck, reveling in every soft, yielding noise the brunette made. He pressed a rough, wet kiss to the soft skin behind Jaskier’s ear and growled possessively, “Never.”

(of course 1/2 of all my swashbuckling au credit goes to @limrx)

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pmd-essenceofconflict · 2 years

Text

Delta Chronicles Chapter 3

“...........ok, we’re here.”, Cedrick says, parking his bike behind some nearby bushes. The pier rests just beyond the hill they’re on. A small port city can be seen sprawling out past the pier, with various warehouses and other business-related buildings. An occasional residential house can be seen here and there, however. “Alright.” Wyatt winces a bit as he gets off his bike as the shoulder straps begin to dig into him. He haphazardly tosses the bike next to Cedrick’s “I presume we’re not taking these with us?”, he asks, half-jokingly. Cedrick shrugs. “Mine’s on the verge of falling apart, anyway.” Wyatt looks down at his own bike, which isn’t much better. “......fair enough.” He follows his friend down to the pier, which is completely devoid of people at the moment, aside from the two of them. Cedrick jogs past a few smaller ships, most of which seem to be small-scale fishing vessels, and stops at a larger, more sophisticated one. This one in particular has a full-blown engine. It’s fairly rusty, and has a few Binacles living on it, but looks mostly fine. Unfortunately, the boarding bridge is not lowered, meaning it’ll take a bit of creativity to get onto the ship. “So, uh….. Do you have a plan for getting into it?” Wyatt asks, staring up at the upper deck, which is a few feet out of reach for either of them to just clamber aboard. “Yeah, actually.” Cedrick points to the few wooden and metal crates left around, mostly next to the pier-facing buildings nearby. He goes over to a few and begins checking if they’re empty. Wyatt goes over to help him. “So, do you have something stashed in one of these, or…..?” “No, dumbass, we’re gonna-” The sound of squeaky hinges can be heard nearby, as one of the back doors to a nearby industrial building swings open. Cedrick curses under his breath, and quickly hops into the box, pulling Wyatt in with him, before placing the lid back on. The sound of footsteps on the creaky pier boards along with panicked whispering can be heard. “......these are the last of the specimens………..get them on board, quickly……..” The sound of claws scratching against metal along with growling can be heard, followed by a small beep and the soft thud of something heavy hitting the pier. The crate the two are in isn’t particularly spacious, especially with the added space the backpacks are taking up. Wyatt slowly shifts himself upward, trying to peek through the small gap between the upper lip of the box and the misshapen lid resting on it. He sees a few people in dark jumpsuits carrying cages containing pokemon with strange splotches of unnatural coloration on their body. One of the thugs is carrying two cages, one of which holds a Shroomish that seems to be sleeping while the other holds a very angry-looking Nidoran female that seems to be scratching and nibbling at the wire cage, trying to get out. The third cage is held by a young man wearing a long blue trench coat, with a red-and-black mechanical apparatus attached to his left arm and shoulder. A clear glass visor is fitted to his head, with various readings populating the screen, like a HUD. The cage he’s holding has a mangy Rockruff that looks rather scared and disoriented. The tip of its right ear is missing, like something bit it off long ago. “........that’s my Rockruff!”, Wyatt whispers. “.......what? Lemme see.” Cedrick shifts a bit and takes a look for himself. “....well, damn. Looks like it. Unless that bite mark on its ear is just a funny coincidence.” A boarding deck can be seen outstretched from the top of the ship down to the dock. It’s the same boat they were trying to climb onto. “Are you sure that’s a merchant ship, Cedrick?”, Wyatt asks, suspicious. “I mean…. The workers were unloading various goods to sell when I first checked.” As the shady individuals walk up onto the boat, the one with the visor glances back over his shoulder at the crate they’re both in. He locks eyes with Wyatt for a moment, but does not outwardly react in any way that would imply he knows they’re there. Wyatt winces a bit before ducking back down. “....did they see us?”, Cedrick asks. “The one with the fancy visor locked eyes with me. There’s no way he doesn’t know we’re in here!”, he whispers, panicking at the possibility of being caught. “Well, he didn’t do anything, so we’re probably okay.”, Cedrick says, calm as ever. “I hope so…..” —-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- (Alright. Just convince the Fengs to buy the old man’s business. Shouldn’t be too hard…… right?), Taral thinks to himself as follows his parents up to the now-open front gate of the Feng estate. A few other well-dressed people are making their way in, too. Some of them even have pokemon dressed in fine silk robes and such. “......and remember, Taral. Most of the pokemon here are for show, and aren’t particularly friendly. This is a formal gathering, not a petting zoo.” “Yes. I understand, father.”, Taral says, doing his best to not let his father’s attitude get to him. “I’m sure there will be plenty of other kids for you to play with, anyway.”, his mom says, trying to look on the bright side, as she always does. “Mother, I’m 19. Shouldn’t I be engaging with the other grown ups by now?” His father nods in approval. “Yes. You should be. In fact, I think I’ll formally introduce you to the Fengs this evening. Not as a boy; as a man.” Taral smiles. (For once, your unhealthy obsession with status and creed is working in my favor.) “Thank you. I relish the opportunity to earn their respect.” He looks down at the fine tuxedo his mother bought him. It’s a little stiff and is clearly fitted for someone smaller than him, but he doesn’t let it bother him. They walk up the polished marble stairs that lead directly to the open double doors, and make their way in. The large foyer room has an elaborate chandelier hanging from the ceiling. The marble floor is polished to a mirror-like finish. A double set of stairs on each side of the rear end of the room lead up to the upper level of the mansion, with a stained glass window depicting Emperor Nobunaga in a triumphant pose. The Fengs stand at the upper railing, looking down at the partygoers. A set of buffet tables line the walls with various appetizers and drinks for those that are feeling peckish. “It will be a bit before the party officially starts. If you want to catch up with some of the other boys your age, now would be the time.”, his mom says. “We’ll be doing the same.” (Right. I’m supposed to be socializing. How fun.) “Of course! I’m sure the Huangs will have plenty of stories to tell.”, Taral says as he makes his way to the drink table. (Ugh. This is going to be a long night.) After a fair amount of awkward small talk, the Fengs make an announcement to all the party goers on the bottom floor. “While I’m glad to see you all catching up like old friends, there is a reason I invited you all aside from an opportunity to make small talk; there is something I’d like to share with all of you.” Mr. Feng slowly makes his way down the stairs, a brilliant pearl masquerade mask covering the top half of his face. “As you all know, Emperor Nobunaga’s Tithe has increased a notable amount ever since his Divine Beast was rendered dormant due to the Blonde Devil’s schemes.” He claps his hands, and the double-doors on the upper level that both the staircases lead to open up, and four servants wheel in a large green crystal about 7 feet tall and a good 4 feet wide at its center. It’s built into a metal harness on wheels so it can be carted around. Its shape is reminiscent of a Revive, except much larger. “With this, we can contribute to Zekrom’s re-awakening in a much more substantial way! With this DIVINITY Vessel, we can store our combined energy, letting it coalesce into a much more concentrated form! Like letting a bone broth simmer for many hours, so too can our Essence become something much much greater when pooled together than it could ever become separately!” By this point, Mr. Feng has reached the bottom of the staircase, where his eyes slowly pan across the crowd, unblinking. “I have but one request of all of you; make a donation to this little project of ours! If we can gather enough DIVINITY to earn the great Emperor’s attention, then we may yet earn his blessings! We would all be lifted to even greater heights under his favor! But only those that participate have any hope of earning anything.” A heavy silence falls across the room, which is first broken by Taral’s father, who raises his hand forward, palm facing the crystal. “I wish to participate.”, he says, in a stern, serious voice. Eventually the others follow suit. “Hmph. How sheepish of them; to wait for someone else to take that first step. Nobunaga would never grant favor to someone like that!”, his father mumbles under his breath. Taral reluctantly follows suit, not wanting to invoke his father’s ire. “WONDERFUL!!!” Mr. Feng lifts his hand up, too, towards the crystal. Rays of prismatic energy shoot from each person’s hand, entering the crystal. The process takes about 30 seconds, before the rays of energy fade. “For those of you that are serious about contributing, please meet here on the last day of the third week of every month. Once the crystal has reached its capacity, we will then request an audience with the Emperor.” Taral wasn’t sure what just happened but he did know one thing. (If we’re meeting here regularly then I might be able to find a ship willing to whisk me away from here! It’s just a matter of waiting for the opportunity to present itself……)

#Pokemon #Fanfic #Fanfiction #Pokemon Fanfic #Pokemon Fanfiction #Rockruff #Delta Chronicles

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wolf-and-bard · 3 years

Note

*Giggles at all of your cute chaos cousins posts* *Imagines Ciri’s royal family meeting her Witcher family* I was just wondering if you might wanna write a little something to satisfy my craving for some everyone lives fluff? ❤️ I’m honestly just imagining sweet sea hound Eist meeting and making friends with the wolf boys XD

My friend ♥️ Do excuse the long wait, my brain was not in the mood for fluff for a bit there. This did turn out rather silly, but I hope you can enjoy it anyway! Maybe don't take it too seriously 😂

Everyone lives family-floof (with some vaguely implied Lambskel), rated T, 3.1k. Enjoy!

„Welcome, welcome,“ the crashing mine-cart voice of Crach en Craite boomed up the gangway which Geralt treaded lightly, Ciri clinging to his backside. The girl had slept through half of their ship’s journey and was still softly snoring. Geralt could feel drool against his neck, but he didn’t mind so much with her. It made him bite down on a smile as he set foot on the wooden planks of the dock.

The air around them was filled with the general clamour of Ard Skellig’s harbour, people that embarked and disembarked from various vessels, traders that carried wares to and fro, merchants that advertised their wares, children that spent their lazy afternoons watching the various ships dock.

Nothing of the wars with Nilfgaard had reached the Skellige Isles, not a single galley of the Black Ones, nor yet a spark of the fires that consumed the Northern Kingdoms. Nothing of the wars had reached their host either. Crach stood as a proud and stout warrior with open arms and a stately set of his shoulders, smiling broadly through his thick beard.

“Well met, Jarl,” Geralt said.

„Geralt of Rivia,“ he hollered and laughed and came up to Geralt to greet him before he noticed Ciri on his back. „By Freya, if it isn’t my dear cousin.“ Ciri perked up at that, and laughed when she saw the low bow Crach was giving her. She tugged on Geralt’s hair and he let her down with a grunt.

“Cousin Crach,” she squealed and barrelled into him under his thunderous laughter.

Geralt crossed his arms and smiled as the two of them hugged out their reunion, Crach bent low to wrap his huge arms around Ciri’s body, still small in spite of all the training she had done under the witchers’ careful instruction. Speaking of which…

“Man, this place stinks,” Lambert complained as he joined Geralt on the dock. His face was slightly pale, had taken on a greenish taint, and he wore a constant scowl. “Please don’t tell me all they have to eat is fish, I’d kill for a roasted chicken leg right now.”

“Fine, I won’t tell you,” Eskel said and he too took up position on Geralt’s side. Vesemir was the last to leave the ship, having chatted with the captain about sightings of rare sea creatures all journey long, and he looked as vivacious and happy as Lambert looked annoyed and sickly. A flush was spread over his cheeks and a bounce suffused his step making him seem younger than the lot of them which was a ridiculous notion. Geralt huffed, and jostled Lambert lightly.

“Fuck off!” the youngest wolf yapped and jostled him right back.

“I brought my family,” Ciri announced when she wound out of Crach’s embrace and her eyes glittered, a sea-weed green under the afternoon sun which hung in a cloudless sky. Her chest swelled in pride as she waved Crach over to introduce them.

“You know Geralt of course,” she said and Crach and Geralt exchanged another nod. Crach winked and Geralt bit down on his laughter. “The greatest witcher to ever walk the Continent!”

“I have a thing or two to say to that,” Vesemir huffed.

“You’re right, the second-greatest witcher to ever walk the Continent. Vesemir taught him,” Ciri explained and Crach saluted Vesemir loosely, then turned to the other two.

“These are my uncles Eskel and Lambert.”

“Not your uncle, kiddo,” Lambert grumbled.

“As you can see, Uncle Lambert is a massive killjoy. But he can be fun if he wants to be, he taught me how to make bombs.”

Geralt waited for the realization to hit Crach, the sudden understanding that having this girl live with four witchers of all people might have been the worst thing to happen to her, and that he should have them all executed for their crimes against the crown. But Crach only chuckled which, if anything, made Lambert even more suspicious. Geralt could see it in his narrowed eyes.

“Uncle Eskel is the best cook ever and he’s so strong. He once carried me and Uncle Lambert to bed when we fell asleep playing Gwent on the battlements. He makes a super strong herbal tea and he knows all about the weirdest kinds of monsters, those even witchers get to fight rarely. But don’t cross him, I hear his Axiis can knock you right out.”

“They can,” Eskel said, a faint blush clinging to his cheeks. “But so can my fists. Thank you for having us, Jarl.”

“I don’t have a fucking clue what you’re talking about, but I’m sure these men are great people and fine company. Welcome to all of you and my sincerest thanks for taking my cousin in. Her family is ours also and shall be welcomed on Ard Skellig henceforth. Please, dear witchers, follow me, there is much ale to toast with and a few other people that should like to make your acquaintance. Our servants have prepared a royal feast in your honour.”

“Royal feast, who gives a shit. Don’t think we will be wooed by manners and wine,” Lambert muttered and Crach laughed. “We’re only here because the brat was nagging us about it.”

“Don’t worry, Uncle Lambert,” Ciri said and batted her lashes at him. “There’ll be beer and cuss words and all the types of fish you can imagine, it’ll be right up your alley.”

“Call me uncle one more time,” Lambert said through his teeth and Eskel drew an arm around his shoulder to pull him close, then whispered something into his ear which Vesemir and Geralt heard, but the others couldn’t. Lambert flushed red, Eskel smirked, and Vesemir scowled at them. Geralt shook his head, biting down on an amused smile.

“We would love to join you in the keep,” he said. Ciri beamed at him, and so did Crach. Lambert was suspiciously quiet all the way up.

---

The moment Crach threw open the grand double doors at the end of the bridge that led into the entrance hall of Ard Skellig’s keep, a blur of reds and browns came shooting from a dark corner and barrelled straight into Ciri, knocking her over. All four witchers fell into various fighting stances immediately, their focus trailed on the heap of limbs on the floor, but as soon as Ciri’s excited giggles echoed through the great space, they relaxed.

“Cerys,” Ciri laughed and they tumbled about on the floor, Ciri and a girl that was no more than a couple years younger than she. She had flaming red hair and wore a version of Crach’s armour, adjusted to fit her still growing body. The girl grappled with Ciri, then tried to pin her down, but Ciri’s training kicked in – Geralt noticed her perfect execution of a manoeuvre that flipped their positions – and she gained the upper hand. Cerys stared up at her, wide-eyed, then burst into laughter that too matched the thunder of her father. It was amazing, coming from such a small person.

“You,” Cerys hissed between hiccups of laughter. “You abandoned me. You promised to be here for my birthday, but you abandoned me for what? This group of stinky old men?” She glared at the witchers, or tried to, but her eyes spelled mirth.

“We’re not adopting another child,” Lambert said and Eskel jostled him. Vesemir and Crach were both smiling into their beards.

“My darling Cerys,” Ciri said and leaned down to kiss her on the forehead, the cheeks, the nose. Cerys howled in dismay and wriggled in Ciri’s grip, all in good humour. “How you’ve grown.” With that, Ciri let her go and pulled her cousin up with her. The girls regared each other for a long moment, then fell into a bear hug.

Geralt watched them, arms crossed, and felt his heart warm at the sight. He hadn’t realized prior to this trip, stupidly hadn’t realized, how much family Ciri still had, how many connections to the world. When he’d taken her in, the only thing on his mind had been getting her to safety. He’d thought she had no one left and now here she was, a bright young girl, on her way to become the first ever female witcher, with two families to call her own. There were doubts there too, of course. Should he have brought her here in the first place?

“You did good with her, wolf,” Vesemir said as he came up to Geralt’s side and placed a light hand on his bicep.

“We all did, even Lambert,” Geralt said. “But maybe it’s time to give her back to the world?”

“She would have your cock sizzling over a campfire for that if you even implied it.” Geralt’s eyes widened and he stared at Vesemir. Vesemir had his gaze fixed on the still hugging girls, but his moustache twitched. “She’s one of us now, Geralt.”

Geralt accepted that in silence. Right then, his ears pricked up as he heard two more people approach from a stairway to the right. One of them Geralt recognized instantly in his proud bearing and his weathered face. Eist Tuirseach, former Jarl of Skellige, King of the fallen country of Cintra, always bore himself with pride, nobility and mischief woven about his person like an invisible cloak. Geralt liked the old sea bear, even though he’d only met the man briefly at his and Calanthe’s betrothal. The day Geralt had claimed Ciri as his child surprise. He saw Geralt and nodded slightly, then his eyes fell to Ciri – who had finally let go of Cerys – and they widened, lips parting in a gasp as though, up until now, he hadn’t quite believed she would come.

“Cirilla,” he said, oh so quietly, but she heard. She’d been wintering with wolves, she heard. And in an instant, she was across the space between them, had hurled herself into his arms. Ciri shrank then, back into the girl Geralt had first picked up in the middle of the war and Eist’s eyes filled with tears as he crouched down to envelop her in his arms which were clad in furs. He buried his face in her hair and both sobbed quietly.

“Who is he?” Eskel asked under his breath.

“Her grandfather,” Geralt replied to put it simple. Titles would mean nothing to Eskel, nor to Lambert. His brothers actually cared as much about politics as Geralt pretended to care about them which was nothing at all.

“I had not known King Eist had survived the war,” Vesemir said to Crach. The two warriors were standing off to the side, heads tucked together while Eskel stood with Geralt and Lambert… Lambert sat cross-legged on the floor, caught in a staring match with little Cerys. In all of that, the broad but hunched figure of what Geralt assumed was Cerys’ brother, got lost somehow. He stood close to Eist, eyes trailed at the ground. Geralt dismissed him as unthreatening and insignificant, and refocused his attention to Eist and Ciri who were still holding onto each other as though the White Frost was about to sweep over the lands and they could only fend it off by hugging. Something barbed lodged in Geralt’s throat at the sight. He swallowed it down. He was not Ciri’s father.

As if she could sense his distress, Ciri detached herself and walked back to the wolves, beckoning Eist to come along.

“You’ve got to meet them all,” she said to the old king. “You can’t imagine what they’re like.”

“I really can’t,” Eist said. There was a healthy flush on his cheeks and he wouldn’t meet Geralt’s eyes. It was a good thing because if he had, they might have just both lost it over Ciri’s antics. It was like she’d de-aged by half a decade, childish excitement replacing the determined wolf she’d become.

“You have met Geralt. And this next to him is Eskel, my favourite uncle,” Ciri expained and Eist and Eskel shook hands.

“Hey, I heard that!” Lambert called and Cerys whooped, having won the staring match upon Lambert’s indignant outcry.

“I thought you weren’t my uncle,” Ciri retorted and they spent a moment sticking their tongues out at each other as Eskel and Eist briefly chatted about the sea journey to which Geralt hummed along. It was a lot, all these people in a room together, and he had expected them to clash, but somehow… it worked out.

At first, they’d all thought it was a terrible idea. They’d gotten word from the Skellige Isles, a coded message that had contained an invitation for the witchers and Ciri – if the rumours of her survival should be true – to sail to Ard Skellig and stay with the an Craites who’d become part of her family by her grandmother’s marriage to Crach’s uncle.

Vesemir had been completely against it, Eskel had refrained from commenting on the matter and simply gotten ready for another year on the Path, Lambert had kept spewing all the reasons why they shouldn’t at anyone who would listen. Geralt… Geralt had wanted to do good by Ciri and he’d known she needed it. To be with normal people, people that knew her in a way the witchers couldn’t. He’d also painfully understood Lambert’s arguments. It was dangerous for anyone involved. But in the end, Ciri had put on all her charms, had gotten out her arsenal of annoyance, and had convinced them to dare. They rarely did that these days, daring. They’d discussed it over the fire one night, and had decided, collectively decided because unfathomably, the girl wanted them all to come, to indulge her. And here they were.

“So,” Vesemir said as he approached Eist, both thumbs hooked into his belt and one eyebrow raised in his best impression of the hard teacher he used to be. Eist did not cower. “You are the reason this girl has been playing all manners of pranks on me.”

“I should hope so. Someone has to be around for her to fill their shoes with muck and put hair dye in their soap and so on. I would be direly disappointed in Cirilla if she hadn’t found someone to pester while he were separated,” Eist said and extended a hand. Vesemir glanced down at it, pretended to ponder, and Geralt and Eskel turned their heads down to hide their smiles. “Call me Eist.”

“Do you know, Eist, that I have woken up with my feet coated in honey and ants only yesterday?”

“That was Lambert’s idea though,” Ciri protested.

“Well, this Lambert must be an absolutely charming young man then,” Eist chuckled and from Lambert’s glare he did not cower either.

“I’m older than you, grandpa, I’ve had enough of this,” Lambert said. “You know what? That bridge looked funny. I think I’ll just go and jump over the railing it and see how many somersaults I can do on the way down. Aiden taught me a new way to get more spinning power.” With that, the youngest wolf got up, gave Cerys a pat on the head and made a run for it.

“LAMBERT, NO,” both Vesemir and Eskel shouted and gave chase, and Crach and Eist bellowed out laughter. Geralt and Ciri rolled their eyes at each other. It was then that Ciri finally noticed her other cousin, and only because Cerys stood by his side now. That close, the similarities were uncanny, brother and sister no doubt. They had the same long nose, the same hands. Hands that had wielded steel before and often. In a way, then, Ciri might fit in better now than she had before. Before Kaer Morhen, before the war. Before her life had fallen to pieces around her.

“Hjalmar,” Ciri said and approached the pair of siblings. Hjalmar shrugged, then walked away without sparing her a glance.

“He’s having a phase,” Cerys huffed. “We’ll hang out after dinner! Now that you’re apparently a fighter, we ought to spar. We can, father, right?” Both girls looked to Crach who seemed a little forlorn all by himself, eyes darting between where the witchers had disappeared to, where Hjalmar had disappeared to, and where Cerys and Ciri made puppy eyes at him.

“Cerys may fight, of course,” Crach said. “But I cannot decide for Cirilla.”

“Cirilla can damn well decide for herself,” Ciri said, fist clenching as if around the grip of an invisible sword. Back in Kaer Morhen, she would be scolded for backing down on a challenge and so she shook Cerys’ hand now before the girl trailed after her brother.

“I should… make sure they don’t set the place on fire. Eist will show you to your rooms once the rest of your family returns,” Crach said with a wave and followed his children with heavy steps, each a sigh against the carpet.

“Right then,” Ciri said and turned to Geralt and Eist, now the only people left in attendance. “What have you been up to, grandpa?”

“Oh, we’ve been spending our days on the terraces, watching for whales and counting seals. Calanthe has been bored out of her mind, as I’m sure you can imagine.”

Geralt froze and so did Ciri. They exchanged a long look and Geralt could smell the tears prickle in Ciri’s eyes, but they didn’t manifest. Geralt gave an almost imperceptible nod and Ciri turned back to Eist, drawing a deep breath.

“She’s alive then.”

“She’s alive.”

“I want to see her,” Ciri demanded and held out her hand for Eist to take. To guide her. This was not a reunion Geralt needed to pry into, and so he inclined his head and gestured for them to go on.

“But Ciri,” Eist said and squeezed her hand. His voice had fallen to a quieter key and Geralt cocked his head to listen for his heartbeat. Not faster, slower if anything, but a certain tension was there nonetheless. There was something wrong with Calanthe. Something significant. “She might not be awake. She… rarely is.”

“What happened to her?”

“I think I should see how many somersaults Lambert managed,” Geralt interjected carefully and made to leave, but Ciri grabbed his hand before he could. Their eyes met again and hers were hard around the edges, softened on the inside. I need you, Geralt, the flicker in them said. And Geralt was not her father, not yet, he thought, and he didn’t know if he ever would be, but he would never deny her a request like this. She needed him, Geralt was there.

Eist glanced at where they held hands and his weary expression was washed away by a wistful smile.

“Knowing Calanthe, she should like to explain it to you in due time. You will see that she was wounded in the storm on Cintra and is still in recovery.”

“She’s the Lioness,” Ciri said simply. “She will roar and rise again.”

That she will, Geralt thought. And you right alongside her.

25 notes · View notes

tale-xistime · 3 years

Note

Lolll these prompts are amazing gems. I love them all. Here's a fave:

7. “What’s our exit strategy?”

"our exit strategy?"

"oh my god were all going to die."

You guess who says which line 😏

|I love all these prompts and want more of them so give me more hehehehehehe|

Crawling through an air duct in a dress was difficult. Crawling through an air duct in a dress over a ballroom full of people without making a sound while Raymond Reddington was staring at her ass was even more difficult.

Liz hadn’t had time to change out of her long, silky, burgundy dress before they were hiding from security, trying their best to make it to Levi Sumpters office without being caught and subsequently shot.

They had to get to the statue standing in the massive mansions office, preferably before the party that was providing them cover ended.

“So much for laying low.” Liz grumbled quietly from in front of Red. Crawling on her hands and knees in the dark ducting that lined the ceiling.

Red crawled not far behind her, his tux probably marinated in stagnant dust by now. He had Lizzies blood colored train tossed over his shoulder in an attempt to avoid tripping her, not complaining at all about their awkward position if only due to the marvelous view he was provided from his position crawling close behind her.

He only wished he could have more light on the situation from here in the closed off metal rectangle.

“Well it wasn’t exactly my plan to be caught sneaking off to the off limits area of the party Elizabeth. When you pulled a gun on the security guards that certainly didn’t help situation. The only way we got out of that jam was because we were able to run and get the vent cover opened before they caught up to us again. That and my swift kick to the left guards crotch, thank you very much.”

Liz rolled her eyes at his indignation.

“This would have been much easier if we had only held the guards to get the exact location of Sumpters office. Now we are just crawling around aimlessly in miles of ductwork Red!”

Red gave a ‘psh’ sound from behind his closed jaw.

“Holding the guards would have been too difficult, we have other things to worry about. Besides they won’t be able to find us now. And for your information we aren’t ‘crawling around aimlessly.’ I happen to have a general idea of where the statue is located. We just have to find it and drop down from the vent. There will be a cover over the room somewhere, we just have to find the right room and hope Sumpter is still busy with his guests.”

Liz made a disbelieving noise, crossing over a patch of light that broke through the smalley quartered tube, continuing on her way without a second thought. She was stopped however, as Raymond yanked on the train of her dress, grabbing it before it receded from around his broad-set shoulders. She was stopped with a lurch, her ass smashing into Red’s chest. They both blushed, jumping apart and mumbling words of apology.

“Why did you stop?” Liz whisper yelled, trying to hide her fluster with anger.

“Sorry, I just,” Red squinted into the light of the room below them, “I’m pretty sure that this is the room.”

Red reached behind him then, grabbing a small candy-apple red Swiss Army Knife, then began unscrewing the vent cover that stood between them.

The cover swung open, just barely large enough for Red to fit through. He lowered himself down carefully, his biceps bulging against the confining material of the tux as he controllably hung himself from the ceiling. He soon dropped to an open section of floor in front of a large desk, a rug doing nothing to soften his touch down. He landed a little funny on his shoulder, grimacing as he stood and wiped the sheets of dust off his suit.

“You alright?” She called down quietly, noticing his face as he rubbed the offending shoulder.

“Just peachy.” He mumbled, pushing the cherry wood office desk to be positioned below the vent. He took his arm and ran it across the surface, papers and pens falling to the floor as he cleared off the wood.

Liz took the train and lowered it down beneath her, then did the same as he did, her heels discarded off to the side as her bare feet touched down on the desk effortlessly. He watched her as she did so, the sleeveless dress doing nothing to hide her toned upper body as it flexed.

He grabbed her pair of sparkling red stilettos and rushed back to hold a hand out to her as she stepped down, ever the gentleman even as he knew she needed no help from him.

They stood in front of each other, covered in dust, sweat, and thousand dollar clothing.

Red gave a small smile, like a boy on his first date.

Liz softened as she looked at his shoulder, her arm drifting up to gently touch it.

“You sure you’re ok?” She mumbled, gingerly rubbing it.

“Just fine Lizzie. Thank you. Now let’s go find our statue.”

He handed her shoes back to her, providing his good shoulder to help her balance as she slipped them back on.

They turned and checked an adjacent door, the dark room looking much like a storage closet, clutter strung everywhere.

Red smirked at what he saw in the dark. He strutted in without a word, squatting down to the base of the large, lion shaped marble statue.

Liz trailed after Red as she closed and locked the door behind her, realizing there was a small bronze plaque at the bottom of the statue. The print was tiny, in a foreign language no less.

It read “Арслан бүх зүйлийг нуудаг.”

“The lion hides all.” Red translated. And at her look of skepticism he clarified defensively, “Mongolian.”

He took out his Swiss Army Knife again, unscrewing the plaque. She sat down next to him, leaning in closely to him in the dark. Catching a whiff of his cologne.

“What are you doing?” She questioned curiously, softly whispering in his ear.

“The paper we need, with the information on where the gun deposit is located is taped to the back of this plaque. They’ve been transporting the statue back and forth on merchant liners, using it as a vessel for their communica-”

A large banging sound came from behind them in the other room, followed by a loud, “Sweep the area for them! They’re in one of these rooms!”

They went radio silent, looking at each other wide eyed in the dark. Red didn’t bother picking the paper off the backing of the plaque, instead opting for just stuffing the entire hunk of metal in his suit coat as he hurriedly stood.

“What’s our exit plan?” Liz asked worriedly as she watched Red scan around the room. His deer in the headlights look finally came to a rest on her face as he echoed a little sheepishly, mumbling quietly as if he was trying out the words on his tongue, “our exit plan?”

“Oh my god we’re going to die!” Liz whisper yelled through gritted teeth, grabbing his collar and shaking him a little. She let go with a flourish, looking around as he was.

“Ok, ok. We’re gonna be fine we just need someway….” He trailed off, running a hand over the back of his neck. The walked to a small corner of the room, finding their salvation.

“A window!” They said simultaneously, locking eyes and communicating like they sometimes do, both knowing the plan without needing to speak it a loud.

Another bang came from behind them, but this time it was much closer as the door that separated them from certain death shuttered behind them.

They gave a silent nod again, both moving to begin pushing the large chunk of marble to block the door as Liz kicked off her heels by the window again. They moved the bulking rock just in time as the lock gave way and the door swung open just enough to allow someone’s arm to poke through the slit.

They stood back once the door was sufficiently blocked, Red handing Liz a baseball he found sitting in an opened storage container with a name tattooed on its surface in sharpie, some famous players signature.

She threw it at the window and turned away as it shattered. Red waltzed up to it, gripping his jacket in hand before holding it to the sill and wiping all the jagged shards out of the way. He grabbed her shoes from their place, throwing them out the window to the lawn below them.

The second story floor drop wasn’t by any means a picnic, but a conveniently placed hedge perched on the back lawn below the windows edge offered enough support for Liz as she came drifting down, the fabric of her dress rippling around her as she was suspended in nothing.

Red waited for her to remove the fabric from the various twigs and branches it caught on before jumping down himself, this time managing to save his shoulder from a hard whack.

Red grabbed her shoes for her again with one hand, the other finding it’s way into Lizzies as they ran together out to the street, dodging guests and various platters of drinks and finger food as they made their way to Dembe who thankfully was circling the block just in front of them.

They jumped in the moving car, Sumpter and his goons not far behind as Dembe hit the gas and sped off.

They took a moment panting in the back seat, still hand in hand, before looking up at each other with a toothy grin.

Liz’s beautiful dress that Red had provided was in shreds, and Reds tux had more than a few rips in it as well. But at that moment nothing seemed more perfect and beautiful than the other.

Liz gave a small giggle of disbelief as she plopped her forehead down to Reds shoulder. Red did the same as he stacked his head atop hers, his eyes drifting comfortably closed as he beamed. Liz gave his hand a little squeeze, relief settling over them in the backseat of the Mercedes.

“See? I told you we would be fine. No need to question the process.” He jested, trying his best to sound indignant.

“Raymond,” She said, curling into his side, “There will never be a scheme in your life where I don’t even slightly question you.” She grabbed his face and kissed him then, the upturn of her mouth matching his exactly.

#Elizabeth keen #raymond reddington #lizzington #the blavkoist is not my canon #the blacklist #prompt list #ask box prompts #my robot heart #mine

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phantom-wolf · 3 years

Text

Day 8: Pirates and Cowboys

Old life, New Beginning

A/N: I'm going to put content warnings in the tags and also before the story just in case

For @usukweek

Content warnings: character held captive/ prisoner, mentions of robbery, use of guns, mention of insects, 10 year age gap, minor character death, suggestive themes

Summary: In 1875, Arthur Kirkland decides to travel to Europe. On his journey the ship he's on is attacked by pirates. Lo and behold one of those pirates is Alfred Jones.

You can also read it here:

A familiar four clicks accompanied the movement of his thumb as the hammer of the single action was cocked. A spatter of blood and gore soon accentuated the deck as one of the pirates took the bullet that tore from the blond's revolver. He instinctually ducked as bullets whistled by and nearly found their mark. The only thing roaring in his ears was the sound of his own heartbeat, unimpeded by gunfire but rather spurned to a faster beat as adrenaline flooded his senses. The ringing in his ears that would've been acknowledged by a novice went unnoticed. Fragments of wood dispersed as bullets embedded themselves into the deck and masts of the ship.

The male found himself in a less than ideal position, forced to take cover in a location that left his rear exposed and able to be flanked. He couldn't afford to let his attention divert to this fact in the chaos of battle. All he could do was hope that the others could fend off the invaders and that there was no second point of entry. Another click distinguishable from the sound of the hammer was audible as the last chamber of the Peacemaker was emptied. Instead of wasting time reloading he reached for the second gun in its holster, a relatively newer Smith and Wesson model three he had bought off someone whose name he couldn't recall. Before he could properly grip and raise the weapon he sensed a presence behind him and felt metal dig into the back of his head. Instinctually he froze and mentally cursed himself for acknowledging the weakness while doing nothing to prevent it.

"Hand away from your weapon."

Weighing his options he complied, slowly feeling himself relax as the barrel was removed from the back of his head. He turned to face the perpetrator, sizing him up, taking note of his broader figure, dirty blond hair and estimating his age to be in his thirties before his focus shifted to looking down the barrel of the weapon. A gleeful delight overcame him, a catalyst for confidence whereas in a different situation he may not have had. There wasn't a round chambered in the barrel. His eyes flicked to the other man's blue ones before a laugh escaped his lips full of contempt and amusement, the tension in his shoulders relaxing as the fear drained from him. Pointedly he stated "If you're going to be aiming a weapon at someone it should be loaded."

His attacker had enough common sense to look slightly embarrassed, eyes widening slightly before narrowing once more, his finger curling tighter around the trigger and his thumb brushing against the hammer of his revolver in an attempt to regain control of the situation "There are five rounds, all it takes is a quick rotation of the cylinder. So I suggest you cooperate."

The pirates' attempt wielded no fruit as another snicker left the other's mouth." This was poorly planned on your part. If I was a- duller gentleman what would stop me from pulling my secondary and shooting you on the spot?"

The pirate looked affronted. "The fact that by the time you would've pulled it out I would've taken the end of this weapon and hit you over the head. Or simply pulled back the hammer a few times and shot you before you could me." Arthur could see the stranger practically bristling as he continued. "Anyway, what's wrong with you? Who decides to look down the barrel of a gun pointed at them?!" To his utmost amusement he could hear the man murmur under his breath about how in all the years-

"You're confident in your abilities I'll give you that. And you're lucky I'm no gunslinger." Arthur started, peeking over the barrel that served as cover and scanning the deck for any other resistance from the other crew members of the merchant ship. Finding none he decided not to risk being shot by the thieves who had boarded during their conversation. It had seemed the victors were decided. "To answer your question, a very clever man."

"Or a very stupid one" The pirate grumbled and narrowed his eyes, giving him a glance over before stopping on his face. Despite the now rather medium length beard that accompanied his features and some grey poking through his wild blond hair he could see a multitude of things flash through the other's expression, the two most prevalent being surprise then recognition.

"You're- Arthur Kirkland."

Arthur let another curse leave his lips not caring enough to hide his rather foul mouth as the stranger shouted to the others and he was guided on board the pirate's ship.

Now he found himself imprisoned aboard some ship he knew nothing about. A rich orange light filtered in through a circular window of some kind, slowly retracting and leaving strange shadows in its wake as the sun started to set. Left to his own thoughts for entertainment, he mulled over the irony of the situation and mused that if he had wanted to be in a cell he would've walked himself into the local sheriff's office. He mindlessly swatted festering insects away as they found their way into his holding through the opening, torn between being grateful for the ventilation while also loathing it for being an easy access point for flies. He'd come acquainted to the soft creaking of wood and boisterous voices above drowning in whatever alcohol they could scrounge up. Several days, ten since his capture and a few days on board his previous vessel had granted him the mercy of letting him adjust himself to the sway of the waves underneath them. His body ached and he wasn't sure if it was from the hard floor below him or from the moisture that was in the air. It was however a definite reminder that he wasn't as young as he used to be.

A nearer, heavier creak caught his attention and he turned his head to the source spotting a silhouette in the doorway. With the illumination of the kerosene lamp his visitor clutched he could make out the details of a familiar figure. Deeming him as non hostile he relaxed and decided to greet his company. "Come here for free entertainment? If you did I apologize. I'm not very interesting."

"I came here to give you some food" The familiar voice of the pirate who had found him in the first place spoke. "And to deliver some news. As for that second part we both know that's not true."

At the announcement of food Arthur sat upright and moved to the bars. "We'll thank you for the compliment" He murmured more focused on what the other carried then the conversation. He kept his composure despite the rumbling of his stomach, stamping down any ebbing curiosity that threatened to reveal itself. News was an inconsistency in routine that had been made over the past several days and frankly he wasn't sure if he wanted to know what that meant. "What is it this time?"

"Some dried beef and some beer today."

A little humorous and witty remark rolled off his tongue easily."You pirates' meals are quite bland, you know that don't you Alfred?"

Sensing the humor in his words Alfred chuckled. Somehow he managed to juggle the beer, meat and lamp by keeping the drink close to his body with his arm and gripping the wrapped cloth that had the dried meat with the same hand, letting the other carry the light source."You're lucky you're not eating the biscuits. The bugs like to make their homes there."

At that Arthur grunted, disgusted but not surprised. "The bugs make their homes everywhere. It doesn't surprise me they are embedded in your food as well."

"Your food now." Alfred responded with a light hearted grin deciding to take the lasting conversation as an invitation to stay. He'd done this every time he brought food and drink. Arthur held no hostility to him, not minding the company either. Afterall, if he had been in the pirates' place he would've done the same thing. Extra money wasn't something that was stumbled upon frequently. He supposed he should even be grateful that Alfred hadn't decided to shoot him right then and there. Although conversing with the man led to one of the answers he was searching for. Turns out Alfred didn't like to kill civilians if he didn't need to. At the time he had figured the situation was under control and sensing the opportunity for an ambush had done so. He'd much rather use intimidation tactics to manipulate the situation. What the quartermaster hadn't realized was that the newest edition to the crew, Jackson had been shot until after. These things tend to get lost in the chaos of gunfire and screaming.

The lamp was set down as a hand slipped between the bars with the cured meat clutched in it, which he eagerly took and was soon followed by the beer. He knew it was beneficial to them to keep him alive, however that was a very...broad term. He doubted the bounty poster specified that he had to be in pristine condition to claim the reward. So he was happy to accept some of the more quality food.

They stayed in silence for a few moments, Arthur slowly tackling the meat and washing it down with beer until Alfred broke it. "You're to be brought up to the deck today".

Upon hearing those words Arthur nearly choked on the beef, managing to swallow without incident. "What?"

Alfred shrugged nonchalantly, although had appeared concerned when the other almost choked. "I did say I had news for you."

"You could've mentioned it earlier!"

"Yeah I guess so. But then you wouldn't have eaten, insisting to go now. This way you have energy. So finish your food and then I'll bring you up."

Arthur seeing no other option simply ate a little faster.

---

Arthur was grateful for the sun's position upon stepping out onto the deck for the relative lack of light. He was sure if the sun had been higher an unforgiving headache would've blossomed behind his eyes at the sudden influx of light. His joints popped from the exercise he found himself able to partake in. It felt nice after being confined to a small cell for a little over a week. He was still weary however. Years of experience had taught him that nothing was easy in this world. Nothing was given, everything came with a price. Not even stealing was without its dues. This situation was quite the reminder.

He sensed Alfred's eyes on him and turned to look at him. It was at this moment Alfred spoke up. "Captain Williams wants to talk to you."

There it was. "Oh? And why's that?"

"That's something you'll have to ask him yourself. But don't worry! Whatever it is, it will be alright. After all, you got me on your side! I'll do my best to protect you!"

Arthur raised an eyebrow at this statement dubiously. "My hero" he retorted with a roll of his eyes, sarcasm dripping from his words.

Alfred seemed to brighten up at that not seeming to either notice or care that it had been sarcasm. Not wanting to ruin the man's mood, Arthur wordlessly followed Alfred to the Captain's quarters. Williams was waiting for them, looking up as the door opened and Alfred greeted him. "Mr. Kirkland" Was the simple greeting he'd received. At least the captain seemed to hold a little respect for him.

Arthur gave a small nod of his head, tilting his hat in recognition. "Captain Williams. To what do I owe the pleasure?" He asked hoping his sarcasm from earlier didn't bleed into the words for his own sake. When he locked eyes with the older man's brown ones he was met by a stare not so unfamiliar. Experienced, calculating, straight to business. A non verbal and pointed reminder to not cross the pirate captain. He met the challenge with his own confidence only tempered as to not get on the man's bad side.

"A deal has been made between myself and Jones. You'll be considered part of the crew and will fill in for the member you shot and killed. During this time you will not take a cut of any bounty we receive until the price on your head is paid in full." The captain responded. "You may discuss Jones's part of the deal on your own time with him."

It didn't seem like he had much of a choice in the matter. Very well- he'd chose limited freedom to a cell any day. "Thank you" He said mustering up as much sincerity as he could and giving Alfred a side glance.

Alfred gave him a faint smile quickly tilting his head to motion for them to depart, thanking his captain as he did so and turning to leave the cabin. Arthur spun on his heel but before he could take a step forwards William's voice rang out again. "Oh and Kirkland, if I hear any stray word about a mutiny that has passed from your lips. I'll take your tongue."

A small sly smirk threatened to etch itself across his lips however he was smart enough to keep himself straight faced. Of the same breed indeed. "I would never even consider doing such a thing" He responded turning his head to make eye contact with the one in charge. "Thank you for your mercy, Captain. I will serve you well."

"You better. You're a three hundred dollar investment."

---

Once they were back out onto the deck a peaceful silence fell between them, Arthur relishing in his new found freedom of sorts and Alfred undecided if he should interrupt the quiet. The sun had long departed by now, leaving the celestial bodies of the stars and moon to paint the night in light. The waves below reflected this light, swirling it in unpredictable patterns before being swallowed by the depths and replaced. The temperature had dropped a few degrees but neither seemed too affected by it. The silence was broken by Alfred who found himself uncomfortable with it. "What was being a cowboy like?" He finally blurted.

Arthur looked at him startled out of his thoughts at the outburst. "Did the stories I told you when you visited with food not paint a good picture?"

"They did. I just wanted to know if you had more" Alfred responded embarrassed with himself, a faint red painting his cheeks and the tips of his ears. "Sounds pretty fun."

Arthur grunted graciously deciding not to comment on how red the other got. He took a moment to think of his response wording it in a way as to not get too personal. "Fun isn't what I'd describe it as. It's hard work as many things are in life. You have to be observant, be able to think on your feet. A thousand pound animal isn't going to stop stampeding because you told it to. Then combine that with upwards of a thousand other animals of the same size and the horses you're riding on top of it. It definitely makes for a good excuse to always be on guard. But generally things didn't get too exciting. The only 'exciting' thing I could count on daily was the game of: will I get bit by a snake when I get off my horse to take a piss and die a few hours later? Or on a more rare occasion, if bandits would be stupid enough to try to rob us. The real fun happened once we arrived in town after a successful transfer of cattle. Once we arrived we had to load the cows into a train cart then we got paid. After going a few weeks without a bath or proper entertainment I'm sure you can imagine what happened at the saloons" the wink accompanying that statement went unnoticed. "I'm sure you can relate to such sentiments out at sea yourself. Minus the snakes of course".

Truthfully Alfred enjoyed hearing Arthur tell his stories. He'd get so enthralled as he talked about his past experiences, spoke with a passion that let Alfred know that Arthur had enjoyed the job. It was one of the times where Arthur became truly expressive, a little less on guard. When Arthur got going his words painted such clear imagery that Alfred hadn't needed to be there to feel like he experienced it. Admittedly as much as he enjoyed hearing him talk in this moment he got… distracted. He accidently ended up staring at his lips briefly, wondering how they'd feel pressed against his own then dismissing the idea and blaming it on the fact he hadn't had much company lately. He blinked shaking his head of any stray thoughts and cleared his throat. It caught Arthur's attention but when he didn't say anything the cowboy now turned pirate continued.

"I worked in the northern plains. Montana actually. So it has taken me a while to get here. The local deputies and pinkertons had started poking around on a lead that someone matching Arthur Kirkland's description was in town. Some folk from the East must've recognized me while I was celebrating a successful drive. Upon seeing the unwanted attention I decided that frankly I have been chased enough to last a lifetime and thus my decision to come to Europe. Offered the merchant ship my gun if anything were to happen and some cash as well. However nothing is ever that simple clearly."

He partially processed the others words, nodding along but was too distracted giving the other a once over to truly hear what was being spoken. The older man's attire alone stuck out now that he had been declared part of the crew. The Englishman had a white, tall crowned hat with a narrow brim that was curled upwards on the sides. He adorned a navy pullover shirt made of cotton with a black vest made of the same material. He also wore grey wool pants with an additional layer of fabric to reinforce the seams. Of course his clothing wasn't in pristine condition, various stains and the occasional stitch from where it had been mended littered the outfit. They'd taken away the black bandana that had originally been tied around his neck, fearful that it may be used as a weapon against one of the crew or himself.

"Wait a minute Arthur. I'll be right back" Alfred chirped, turning to head underneath the deck and deeper into the ship. Arthur watched him go before turning his attention back to the ocean, focusing on the feeling of the breeze in his face and the sound of crashing waves that surrounded the ship.

Alfred returned with his bandana in tow holding it out and offering it to him. Afterall with the freedom now granted if Arthur wanted to, he'd have better things to use against them than a bandana. "You will probably need some new clothes more suitable for the sea. But for now we can't buy anything since we aren't in port and we technically aren't making anything off the next several exchanges-"

"We?"

"Oh right! I gave up my cut as well until your bounty is paid off and the credit makes a profit. Technically I promised them six hundred dollars so we're going to be living on some scraps for a while."

Arthur raised an eyebrow in suspicion and curiosity, cocking his head as he looked back to Alfred."Why go through all the trouble to save me?"

Alfred gave a disarming half smile upon sensing the others suspicion trying to prove he had no ulterior motives and a shrug. Sure he found him attractive but that was not why he saved him. "There's something about you I like. You're clearly clever, a hard worker and we needed a new member of the crew. And I think you have a story to be told. Would be a shame if it were to end prematurely."

"Don't we all have a story to tell-" He murmured, shifting his body to lean against the closest mast of the ship and crossing his arms as he was securely balanced. "And you didn't take any of the crew from the merchant ship?"

"We offered but they declined."

Arthur gave a hmph of disbelief. Pirate's tended not to give people many choices. The two options usually consisted of join their crew or die which brought the next question to mind. "Are they fish food now?"

"No, we let them go." Alfred responded. When Arthur proceeded to stare at him with his eyebrows raised for further explanation he continued. "Captain Williams tries to avoid casualties where they can be avoided. He also doesn't like to take people who are likely to turn tail at the slightest hint of freedom. Took a lot of convincing to get him to accept you for that reason. As for your job on the ship you'll have to learn how to rig the sails and some level of carpentry. If those aren't your thing perhaps you could help the doc out and learn from him- or maybe the cook."

The older male took a minute to digest this information weighing the situation. He supposed it would've worked better for him if they had been killed. There would've been fewer loose ends, less mouths to talk if the wrong parties came looking. Oh well. "And for your information I do know some carpentry and my way around a needle. Ropes shouldn't be an issue either although you'll have to teach me any particular knots you use."

"Good and no problem. Isaiah is the ship master. He can show you some duties and I'll also be helping out when I can. The others will also show you how we operate if neither of us are available. We all have a part to play after all. In reality most of our time is spent on ship maintenance."

Arthur couldn't help but be curious."You're going to have to be more specific when you mention maintenance because frankly I have no idea what that entails."

Alfred paused mentally counting off, his fingers moving from a curled position to straight as he counted with them before disregarding whatever he had been doing. "Cleaning the decks, checking rigging and ropes, checking for any potential leaks or holes and repairing them. You also eventually may get to make sure everything on the gun deck is properly stored and cleaned- just to name a few. Oh and did I mention cleaning bird shit off the deck?"

"Sounds-" a pause and despite not trying to be rude he couldn't exactly color himself enthusiastic at the prospect "...delightful. When do I begin?"

Alfred looked smug, probably happy that some of the more unpleasant tasks were going to be now dished out to the newest member of the crew. With a clap on the other's shoulder he chirped "Your duties start right now!". With that he began to back away towards the stairs leading to the lower decks.

"Wait where are you going?!"

"I'm going to sleep. Isaiah is at the stern. I'll see you in the morning!"

"Where's the stern?!" Arthur called letting his frustration seep out through his words, scowling at the retreating pirate's back. "What does Isaiah look like?"

"Guess you'll have to figure that out yourself. Goodnight Arthur!"

Cheeky bastard. He didn't even get to shave.

---

Both their hands were calloused, jagged chunks carved out of them from one experience or another. The years had only added to the collection of scars and disfigurations. The black bandana that had first accompanied the cowboy-ex-outlaw-pirate was now draped over one of each of their hands, both using their free hand to knot the material and bind themselves together. Together, promising to watch over each other despite what altercations that could find themselves apart of. In life and death they'd take care of one another.

A cheer arose from their spectators as mugs were risen and beer sloshed onto the floor which would promptly have to be scrubbed later. "How about that Mr. Outlaw. You're now properly married to a pirate however fitting that may be."

"Cowboy" Arthur corrected. "I prefer cowboy although, I suppose neither occupation is particularly civilized. And the correct term is matelotage."

"He does learn! Would you look at that" came a playful quip from one of the crew members.

"I've learned quite well. It's you who still gets confused when I rattle off cowboy terms at you." A flippant and well timed reply caused snickers to erupt amongst the band of people gathered around.

Alfred decided to interrupt after chuckling to himself. "Arthur I don't think there's a single civilized thing about you" earning a playful eye roll in response.

"I don't think either of us have ground to talk" Arthur hummed giving him a small smile. The newly wedded partook in the drinking activities and celebration for a little while until Arthur directed a suggestive and flirtatious wink towards his beloved, earning him a smirk. To further drive his intentions he gave a slight tug on their bound hands. "Boys, thank you for the celebration but I suggest you clear out of the cabins for a while. Enjoy your drinks!"

---

Alfred found himself ahead of Arthur, deciding to clear some of the rooms up ahead, his gun raised as he did so. Upon entering one he was thrown off balance as someone barreled into him from a blindspot. He stumbled but caught himself, his body twisting to take the brunt of it as his back collided with the wall and he tried to throw off his attacker. They struggled for a brief moment until Alfred found himself a second too slow. A sudden crack filled the space as the weapon was brought down against his head. A sharp pain rattled his skull causing him to fall forward as the stranger stepped away. He nearly face planted onto the wooden floor only managing to distribute some of the weight with his hands, his jaw hitting the floor and causing his teeth to clack together. He helplessly watched his weapon clang as it hit the floor and bounced out of reach. He doubted it would be of much use to him anyway with the way his vision was doubled and the room was spinning. He let out a groan as everything slowly became bearable, rolling into his side to look up at who had ambushed him.

His attacker stood over him, weapon drawn and pointing at him. Perhaps this was karma for being over confident. In a final act of bravado and defiance he stared at the other man, their gazes interlocked. His pain only manifested through a clenched jaw and partially squinted eyes, managing a cold but accepting smile. "You know I don't like killing civilians. If I were you I'd stand down." Whether the next unfolding of events was pure luck or divine intervention he wasn't sure. An echoing boom sounded from the hallway ripping through the relative quiet of the lower decks. His attacker slumped lifelessly and collapsed partially on him before he could scramble out of the way. He blinked, staring at the corpse before his attention was caught by approaching footsteps.

"Unfortunately for you, I don't share such qualms" The familiar accented voice of Arthur sounded.

Alfred scooted away from the body, a relieved smile tugging on his lips and letting his tense body now relax. Needing a reprieve from the close encounter he decided to diffuse the situation with humor. "Took you long enough. I got a smack to the head thanks to you" He said no malice or bite to his words just teasing affection. Feeling the adrenaline leave him and feeling safe with Arthur's presence he took a breath and leaned back, closing his eyes.

"You're gonna get a smack on your arse if you keep it up" The other fired back, relief flooding his voice as he moving over him and crouched beside him to inspect the wound on his head. Deciding that nothing could be done here he placed a hand on the other cheek, encouraging him to open his eyes. "You need to get up Al" He murmured, standing up to a more appropriate height to help him up. He outstretched a hand expectantly.

"That sounds kind of hot Arthur" He teased indeed, opening his eyes and taking his cowboy's hand. Once up he felt the others hand on his back to support him. He gave a grateful smile before wincing and running his hand over his left temple to see if there was any blood. Thankfully there wasn't.

"We'll try it sometime if you'd like. But for now let's focus on the task at hand. Just because I'll get your cut if you were to die does not mean I want you dead. Let's get you back to the ship to be looked at by Johnson."

"We need to-"

"The others have everything under control. You're going to the ship. End of discussion."

Alfred decided not to waste the energy with arguing especially because Arthur was right. He took half a step, stumbling as his vision doubled again. At that Arthur pressed against his side and wrapped an arm around his shoulders for some extra support. "Thank you" he whispered, enjoying the others' warmth. His thoughts were interrupted by a gentle kiss to the right temple.

"A reminder not to go too far ahead alone next time."

"Of course my love" He agreed. When they reached the doorway sunlight flooded Alfred's vision. He hissed squeezing his eyes closed upon finding a newfound sensitivity to the light. Arthur paused and shifted around a moment before he felt something pressed to the top of his head. He opened his eyes slowly, the sunlight limited by the narrow brimmed hat on his head. It was a little small but it would do. Alfred found himself grateful for the fact Arthur incorporated his old attire with a more seaworthy one.

---

All Alfred knew was that the sensation of having Arthur over him, the other pinning his arms above his head while their lips captured each other's hungrily was addicting. No matter how many times they'd done it for the past few years, it always managed to thrill him to no end. The way their bodies arched into one another, lips worshiping and marking everywhere they possibly could. And afterwards basking in glory as they settled down from their escapades. Surely they realized that with the life they lead they sacrificed the longevity of it to do so. But they could at least enjoy each other until the end of it.

#usuk week #ukus #usuk #I decided to switch up their roles with the added bonus of outlaw #cw: gun violence #cw: guns #cw: minor charcater death #cw: age gap #cw: suggestive #cw: mentions of insects #cw: mentions of robbery #still hesitant to post because I feel like the pacing is all off #cw: charcater held prisoner

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omniscientwreck · 3 years

Text

Day 6: Time & Transformation // Temptation

Day 6 of @shadowgastweek (I’m very late I know I’m sorry!)

Please enjoy this little glimpse into the future I hope the wizards will get one day, please let me know what you think!

“Caleb?”

“Ja?” The wizard looks over, silver hairs peeking through the copper and he pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose looking over from the loveseat where his papers and books were sprawled across the dark upholstery.

A familiar, grin spreads freely across his features.

“Can I tempt you away from your studies for a moment?”

Eyebrows raise and a mischievous glint, “Well you know, this is some important work I’m doing. I’m not sure if you can compete.”

Gliding over, Essek leans down over the human’s form, sporting his own devilish grin. The wizard’s eyes raked over him with a hunger. That could wait. They have time. “Oh I assure you I can be quite compelling.” And he leans in to kiss Caleb. Kissing him is so comfortable, safe, it fills him with a warmth he’d never previously known. It’s been years and it still excites him when their lips connect. Caleb’s short stubble scrapes a bit before they part, Essek righting himself and offering Caleb a hand.

“I have to say Thelyss, you make a good case. What is it?”

“I just wanted to talk with you, about tomorrow.”

As Caleb stands he smiles reassuringly, “Mein Engel, you are still nervous?” He grabs for Essek’s hand, lacing their fingers together. Caleb’s hands are strong and his fingers are wider than Essek’s. It’s easy to feel reassured in his grasp, familiar callouses rough as Caleb’s thumb rubs circles into his hand. “The spell has been performed many times without issue, we’ve got it figured out. I’m certainly excited to see what happens.”

Essek nods, “Of course I am excited too, but well. The other times it was you and now it’s me and transmutation certainly isn’t my specialty.”

A gentle laugh falls from Caleb’s lips and he squeezes Essek’s hand, “You know you really don’t give yourself enough credit. You quite nearly pioneered an entire school of magic. You’ve been it’s foremost scholar and teacher for some time. I understand nerves but I promise you I trust your ability. You’ll have the rest of the Nein there, Veth has had it done to her and the rest were there with us the first time. I will be okay. Besides, won’t you be happy for me to be rid of some of these age markers?”

He winks at Essek, teasing, already knowing the answer. “You grow more beautiful every day Caleb, I have never once regretted the aging of your body. You know very well it’s not about looks, it’s about time.” Caleb stops their walking and wraps his arms around him, pulling Essek in and kissing him gently, chastely. “Regardless of how old you look or what happens tomorrow I intend to stay by your side until death. But we only have one life so we may as well lengthen our time.”

Caleb kisses the tip of his nose and they continue outside of their home. The dark of the night engulfs them and the glow of the stars is vibrant as always, Essek looks at his husband and tries to quell the nerves, the anticipation, when a voice fills his mind, “Hey Essek it’s Jester! I couldn’t wait to see you and Caleb until tomorrow, it’s been so long and I’ve missed you so much. I’m-” the spell cuts off and he waits a few moments to see if she plans to recast.

When he hears nothing he responds, out loud so Caleb can hear, “Hello Jester. It is good to hear from you. We’re home and I believe you know our address. You’re welcome at any time.”

Caleb’s crows feet crinkle around his still piercing blue eyes, “Well, if Jester’s here then so is Fjord and I can’t imagine the others are far behind. We should prepare the guest beds.”

They float inside to welcome their friends and briefly Essek’s anxiety is pushed to the back of his mind.

-----

Long ago he’d finally stopped referring to the Nein as ‘Caleb’s friends’ and accepted his role in their lives and allowed them to step into their roles in his properly. Agents of change, bestowers of affection, it’s been about a year since they last saw everyone together.

Ten years ago when they defeated Lucien the group took a break. Jester and Fjord split off to Nicodranas with Veth, Caduceus went home, Yasha and Beau had posted up mainly in Zadash, and Essek and Caleb spent a great deal of time travelling and exploring. Whenever one of the Nein called they all answered, whether it was something as simple as providing fire power when Beau had an investigation or something as momentous as tying up loose ends from their past, they remained steadfast to one another.

Jester, Fjord, and Veth and her family are the first to arrive and Essek opens a well aged wine. Luc is a teenager at this point and he’s becoming a bit of a menace at the amusement of his uncles. Caleb had previously taught him message and he’s been getting a lot of mileage out of it. Jester and Fjord have stories from having come back from a few months at sea, helping with some errands for merchant ships for old times’ sake.

Their home feels full and alive, and the next moring when Beau and Yasha arrive, and then Caduceus it feels like the family is whole again.

They begin digging clay out of the back yard just as they had the first time and as everyone assumes their positions, laughing and joking, filling the backyard with cacophonous uproar, Essek is hit with nostalgia.

He misses travelling with them, having them by his side and standing at theirs throughout some of the worst confrontations in history. He misses the jokes they lob his way with ease, Fjord and Veth hurling insults back and forth, all of it. It seems like so much time has passed since they had last upturned his yard to help a friend into a new form, but in his comparatively long life it’s hardly any time at all.

They assemble the clay, sprinkling in diamond dust and Essek is basically useless with nerves, they’ve created the trough, incorporated the diamond dust. All that’s left is him. They pause to eat, Caduceus’ cooking a welcome break from the day’s preparations.

Dinner is delicious, and loud, full of stories Luc and Yeza have heard dozens of times but still delightful all the same. As they finish eating and prepare to cast the rest clean up as Essek floats outside to check their arrangement one last time. He feels a punch land on the back of his shoulder, where he was once marked by the Nonagon and Beau surveys alongside him, the day’s work. “Hey man, you okay?”

He should be used to her check-ins but she still puts him on edge despite their ‘beef’ as she put it having been ‘squashed’ years ago. “I am alright. This is a big deal and well, I just want to perform well.”

“You will.” She rubs his shoulders a bit and continues, “You know, I didn’t think you deserved him. Even after we figured our shit out and you like became cool. I didn’t think you were good enough for him. Thanks for proving me wrong, you’re good people and I know you’ll take care of him. You’re nervous because you care and that shows me a lot about you. You’ve always been that way but. Well, I see the way you look at him, it’s just real fucking nice.”

All he can do in response is nod and swallow hard, he doesn’t have words to explain what the reassurance means. He kneels down to ensure the dimensions are right for the fiftieth time and the others come out breaking the silence.

“Ah- before we begin can I steal him quickly?” Caleb asks his friends as if they have somewhere else to be or any reason to deny the couple a few words. He takes Essek a good distance away so they can talk without being overheard. “Schatz, are you ready?”

“It feels like I should be asking you that. You know the form you would like to assume?”

Caleb nods, “Just as we discussed, we’ll put us on a more even playing field.”

Essek tucks a stray strand of copper hair behind a rounded ear and looks at his husband’s face one last time, “I can’t say I won’t miss this view Widogast, you are a most striking man.”

Caleb just laughs and kisses him gently, “Well you have much to look forward to.”

They stay like that for a moment, hands clasped, pulling their bodies close, eye to eye. Determination and a stoic resilience fall over Essek and he nods to Caleb, “Ready?”

“Ready.”

All told the casting is uneventful. The Nein are knelt in a circle around Caleb with Essek at the head, kissing him one last time before beginning the incantation. As the wind picks up and arcane lines and symbols light up, Essek’s concentration is stone cold. The clay begins slowly building over Caleb, covering his face entirely and as the view of his partner is taken from him he seems to connect on a deeper level to Caleb’s psyche. They think together of the chosen form, and he can feel a reassuring wave come off of Caleb as he continues reciting the incantation. The runes light and as he continues casting and putting everything he has into ensuring their mutual happiness. His voice gradually rises and arcane power swirls around them, hair freely whipping around the faces of his friends, watching with confidence, Yasha smiling knowingly at him across the vessel. He can feel the heat radiating as his hands pass over Caleb and at the hour the clay bursts, the ensuing wave of arcane energy pushes him back a foot or so, even in his kneeling position. The light from the spell is snuffed instantly and the night is dark again. Before them is Caleb anew.

He brushes clay away from his face with slender fingers, gently sitting up as Jester helps him. Essek floats over, kneeling beside him where he sits.

Caleb turns to look at him, he has the same copper hair and bright blue eyes, but the skin is smooth and free of stubble, his ears narrow to a point, and his features are just a little finer.

They did it.

Caleb looks at Essek for a moment, not dissimilar from the look they’d shared as they met at the altar the day they were wed, “So this is what you look like in the dark.”

He cups Essek’s face with a smooth hand and laughs lightly as the Nein begin chattering around them, Essek doesn’t hear what they say as Caleb brings his new lips to Essek’s and they’re locked in their second first kiss. Pulling back slightly, Essek’s laughter rings out and they press their foreheads together. He feels someone wrap their arms around the two of them and eventually the rest of the Nein join. In the middle of the large group hug two wizards hold each other and time stretches before Essek as the full gravity of the what they’ve done makes his heart soar. Time will catch up eventually, it always does, but for now they have plenty.

#shadowgast #essek thelyss #caleb widogast #critical role #critfic #shadowgastweek2021 #I just wanted to write romantic semi-domestic fluff okaaay #god i love these two so much

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mirainablackhart · 4 years

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RK1K Pirate AU (beautiful art by the lovely @sayatsugu; commisioned by yours truly)

Disclaimer: Credits for this backstory go to the masterminds @that-android-from-cyberlife & @0-0136 who brought this pirate AU to life during a Tumblr chat discussion months ago. :D I merely helped to compile the ideas here since the original discussion already got deleted. ^^

Markus captains the pirate ship Jericho—a feared and renowned ship and their crew mainly targets huge merchant vessels.

Connor, on the other hand, is a respected naval officer who’s in charge of dealing with pirates and smugglers.

It’s Connor’s mission to track down and capture Markus and his crew.

And it’s made all the more personal because of an incident that occurred years ago, before he was even an officer. When he was younger, he was put in charge of his family’s cargo ship, which Markus and his crew ended up plundering so he’s all too happy to deal with them now, his way of dealing out some sweet justice.

Connor’s ship hits a vicious storm in the dead of night. He’s aboard a very good vessel, but this storm is bad. The ship is thrown into a cluster of rocks just below the water and the ship goes down. Come morning, the storm is gone and the waters calm. Markus just so happens to be sailing the same area that Connor’s ship went down. He can see debris in the water and there are things that have washed up on the shore of a little island nearby so he and a few crew members take a dingy out to see if anything of value is out there. While they’re on the beach searching the wreckage, Markus finds an unconscious Connor, near death and ice cold.

Now, Markus might plunder goods from ships, but he tries not to hurt people and he sends the stolen goods back to the town he’s from to help the people there so when he finds Connor on the beach and realizes that the man looks quite familiar, he can’t just leave him there to die. He takes Connor back to his ship to try and save him, though he’s not sure he’ll be able to.

Connor wakes up in Markus’ cabin and expects to be interrogated, or worse—tortured, for information. Additionally, his current predicament doesn’t bring back good memories. Connor was in a tight spot after his family’s ship got plundered. They never let him live it down and it caused him a lot of problems for years until he managed to get in the navy.

Once Connor sees Markus enter the cabin though, a dark memory from his past unwillingly flashes in his mind.

He remembers the day when Markus and his crew invaded his family’s cargo ship and while Markus was giving a little speech about how he wasn’t there to harm them and that he just wanted their goods, Connor had leapt up in anger and tried to attack Markus. One of Markus’ crew jumped forward and pushed Connor away from their captain. He ended up stumbling back and hitting his head on something. He got a nasty cut and had fallen unconscious.

Connor only has vague impressions of what happened after that. But he remembers screaming. And blood. So much blood.

When he finally woke up, Amanda—the owner of a larger trading company who had sailed with them at that time—was there and she told him that Markus and his men had slaughtered Connor’s whole crew but had spared Connor, Amanda herself and one other person. Which was why Connor had hated Markus ever since, angry that the pirate would do something that cruel when the cargo ship’s crew was absolutely innocent.

Which is also why he immediately attempts to attack Markus in reflex as the man walks towards him. But Connor realizes too late how bad of an idea it was when a sudden pain lances through his body and Markus rushes to settle him back on the bed.

Markus doesn’t understand where Connor’s hostility is coming from, especially as he has just saved the other man’s life. He gets even more confused and shocked when Connor accuses him of being a murderer, that he mercilessly killed everyone on Connor’s cargo ship all those years ago.

Markus now realizes why Connor had looked very familiar. He remembers invading his ship and recalls how Connor tried to attack him but was knocked out. After Connor was hurt, Markus actually called Simon over to stitch his head wound to make sure he would be alright. Then they took the goods and left the ship, and its crew, unharmed.

It takes a lot to convince Connor, but he eventually believes Markus.

Connor is bedridden for quite a while and during his time there, his initial hatred towards Markus starts to shift into something else as he begins to see the man behind all the tales and bounties, that Markus really isn’t the horrible person Connor’s been told he is, that Markus is actually telling the truth.

But if Markus didn’t kill his crew all those years ago, then who did? And why did Amanda lie to him?

Once Connor is well enough to be up and moving on his own, he decides it’s time that he return home. He’s reluctant to admit it, but his time with Markus has been good. But… a pirate ship simply isn’t his place. And it’s time he goes back to his life.

Markus doesn’t want him to go, but he won’t hold Connor against his will.

Connor finds his way home. Markus can’t take him directly back to the port town he’s from as it’s too dangerous, but Connor jumps a couple other ships in some ports and makes it back to Amanda. When he gets there, he asks her about what really happened on the ship all those years ago.

She comes clean and tells Connor the truth—that after Markus sailed away and while Connor was still more or less unconscious, Amanda had her right-hand man kill the whole crew, then put the blame on Markus.

This shocks Connor and when he asks her why she would do such a thing, she simply tells him that Markus and his crew had always been a thorn in her side. That wasn’t the first ship under her trading company that he has looted. What better way to get people after him than to make him a terrible killer with an enormous bounty?

It was obvious that Amanda feels no remorse for what she did. Deep down, Connor suspected. But he didn’t want to believe it. But now that it’s right in his face and he can’t deny it any longer, it makes him sick.

After a few days, Connor just can’t stay anymore. He packs a trunk and slips away in the night. He starts taking passage with cargo ships transporting goods in the hopes that Markus will rob the ship he’s on and he can go back to the place he realized he was actually happy.

It’s weeks and weeks before Connor finally spots a familiar ship on the horizon…

Connor quietly waits below the deck until Markus comes down to inspect the cargo. Needless to say, he’s shocked to see Connor as he never really expected to see him again.

Connor softly tells him that when he returned home, he realized he wasn’t happy. He’d never been happy there. And he only realized it because he was happy with Markus.

It leaves Markus overwhelmed, happy and shocked that he all he could do was to lean in and give Connor the kiss they never got to have before they parted ways.

#rk1k #dbh rk1k #conkus #pirate au

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corner-stories · 3 years

Text

little thief

Calem. Serena. Chespin.

Swords. Ale. Medieval Times.

2882 words.

(ao3.)

For once in his life, Calem — Squire to the esteemed Sir Wikstrom and a potential Knight-to-be — could not do his job.

In his right hand was a dagger, an ornate tool that was far too beautiful to be wielded by a bastard like him. His fingers were grasped around it so tightly that the wire-wrapped handle was pushing deep lines into his skin.

In his left hand was the creature who had been raiding the kitchens of Shabboneau Castle. It was barely a foot tall and had a brown body, its head was green and what appeared to be its ears looked rather spiky. Calem held it by the scruff of its neck while a blissful smile remained on its face, apparently unaware of what was going on around it. The cooks and servants called it a Chespin — in their eyes it was a vile little parasite that had snuck in from nature to feast on the Castle’s supply of cheese and grapes and oats. Once the head Chef caught the little vermin, he handed it to Sir Wikstrom’s Squire and told him to get rid of it like a good Knight-to-be would.

So there Calem stood, holding his Master’s dagger to the throat of a creature that was happily staring at him with the beadiest eyes he had ever seen.

Calem’s hand was shaking. His usual stoic facial expression was turning into a look of fear. His heart was beating fast like a warrior’s would before a battle. His breathing was exceedingly rough and uneven.

Moments passed and Calem came to a conclusion that would lead to the best outcome for him and the Chespin.

He sighed and put the dagger in the sheath on his belt. He then held the Chespin properly, letting it lean against his shoulder like it was a newborn babe. With a sigh, he walked out of one of the castle’s many many spare rooms and went into the hallway. As Calem weaved through the other servants and workers of Shabboneau Castle, the Chespin was wagging its tail in utter excitement.

As they walked, Calem asked the little thing if it had any idea on what was going on, as if he was speaking to a human and not the pester that had been raiding the kitchens of Shabboneau Castle.

…

Calem took Chespin to the castle gardens, where it could at least roam free amongst the flora and fauna and perhaps play with the other creatures who lived there. As nice as the place was, King AZ seldom spent time outdoors, much preferring the company of his Court or a pitcher full of wine.

Calem grabbed an apple from one of the trees and gave it to Chespin. Knowing that the fruits were not deemed fresh enough for those of Royal blood, he was sure that neither him nor Chespin would face punishment for such an act.

“This should tide you through the day,” Calem said as he held the apple to Chespin’s mouth. The creature eyed the fruit curiously, giving it a few cautionary sniffs before taking a nibble. After tasting the morsel, Chespin grinned and looked at the apple in its paws, happily chewing on it like an emperor would to a lavish feast.

Calem grinned. “Probably tastes a lot better than table scraps.”

As Chespin ate, the young Squire took the creature to the farthest end of the castle gardens. There he set the little thing down. Once on the ground, Chespin dropped the core from its paws and looked up at Calem with curiosity in its inky black eyes.

Calem gave Chespin a polite nod, then began to walk away. He only took about two steps before hearing the creature prodding after him. He was quick to turn around and hold his hand out.

“No, you can’t come back with me. My Master would never allow it. Now shoo!”

Chespin seemed saddened, as if its entire world had shattered right then and there. Calem could not ignore the way Chespin looked at him, but knowing his orders he guessed that it would be the safer thing for both of them if they went their separate ways.

So firmly, Calem turned around once more and walked back towards Shabboneau Castle, doing his best not to think of the rather adorable creature that had somehow grown fond of him.

…

With a Tourney coming up, Calem was hard at work helping his Master get prepared. Being one of Kalos’s most esteemed knights, Sir Wikstrom prided himself on his prowess as a warrior. He needed to be in fighting shape to compete with the region’s much younger Knights, so five days a week he gave Calem a blunted longsword and ordered him to fight back, asking that the Squire never go easy on him.

In terms of swordsmanship, Calem still had a long way to go. He was much better than he was a year ago, when Sir Wikstrom decided to have a mere stable boy act as his Squire. Back then he swung the sword like it was a stick and he was a child playing make-believe, causing Sir Wikstrom to immediately leave him lying on his rear end in the midst of the castle courtyard. He would usually follow this up by saying Calem was better at sword sharpening than fighting.

But after months of practice, Calem was able to last longer in the one-on-one sparring duel against this master. Of course, Sir Wikstrom was able to win nine times out of ten, but Calem was capable of getting some clever strikes and thrusts in here and there.

As a result of the increased training schedule, Calem’s every muscle began to ache. Morning and night he felt the strain of his days in his arms and legs. He felt it even in the midst of the simplest tasks, such as shining shoes or fetching water and wine for his master.

Two days before the tourney Calem was in the castle courtyard. Despite his pain, he felt himself willing to power through it for the sake of some extra sword practice. With a blunted two-handed sword in his grasp, he unleashed his wrath upon a sparring dummy. Said target was propped upright and tarnished from years of practice, as much more qualified and skilled warriors had honed their craft on it. The strikes the mere Squire was giving out would probably do a fraction of the damage already done.

Although Calem preferred thrusts in the midst of sword fights, he was adamant that he practice his strikes and cuts as well. Even if thrusts were more effective to exploit the gaps in an opponent's armour, Calem did not want to neglect that area of combat. Knighthood may have been a mere dream to bastards like him, but he could at least try to aspire to the ranks of the highborns.

Calem was not alone when he practiced. Sitting on a stack of wooden crates was Serena — King AZ’s Royal Cup Bearer and yet another orphaned Kalosian bastard employed at Shabboneau Castle.

Unlike Serena, Calem had not grown up in a Lumiose children’s home before getting sold to the Castle. Instead he roamed the rocky streets of Ambrette Town in his youth after the loss of his parents — his unwed mother had worked in a tavern and died of an illness when he was young; he never knew his father, but it was fair to say that the man was one of the hundreds of soldiers who died in one of the Kalos-Galar conflicts. At this point there had been so many scuffles that it was hard to know which exact battle the man had perished in.

Calem came to the Castle when he was caught stealing bread from a merchant’s stand, having been given to the authorities and sent to work as Shabboneau’s Royal Stable Boy as punishment. Hopefully now he had atoned for his dreadfully benign sin of stealing a single bun, his Master certainly thought so before promoting him to Squire.

Serena was roughly his age — fifteen and somewhat gawky despite her youth. Her hair was the colour of honey and was often braided to be kept clean. When she was not enabling King AZ’s wine habit, she was exploring the gardens or spending time with Calem. He wasn’t sure if it was because she actually enjoyed his company (if so, then he would seriously begin to mistrust her judgement) or if because bastards and orphans often stuck together.

As Calem practiced his strikes on the dummy, Serena seemed keen on keeping her eyes on him. She had a cup of ale in one hand and in the other a palm-sized pie filled with onions and parsnips and mushrooms and turnips, which was one of the more luxurious foods that servants were permitted to eat. She took a sip of her drink, then asked Calem:

“Where is your Master now?”

Calem hit the head of the dummy, letting out a gravely grunt as his sword made contact. “He is bathing,” he answered without looking away.

Serena grinned cheekily. “And he didn’t need you to wipe his bum?”

Calem stopped swinging for a second to give her an unamused glare. Sometimes her wry humour took a bit of getting used to. “Evidently so,” he replied in the driest tone he could muster.

“What’s our esteemed King doing now?” he then asked, going back to hitting the dummy. “I thought he would need his Royal Cup Bearer at all hours of the day.”

“Our Majesty is sleeping off a Royal Headache,” Serena claimed. She rolled her eyes, then took a bite of her pie. “Sometimes I think I do my job too well.”

As Calem continued to strike the dummy, Serena held out her cup of ale towards him. With a nod, he retracted his weapon and took the drink in his hand. “Thank you,” he said, then took a hearty pull from the vessel.

The bitter taste of the cloudy ale came to him as a welcome relief. Even after trying some of the finer wines that Kalos had to offer (as it was a perk of Squirehood), Calem always felt more at home with a frothy mug in his hand.

Serena noticed Calem’s evident fondness for the brew and smirked. “At this rate you’ll be Sir Calem: Knight of Amber Ale and Form-Fitting Hose.”

Humoured, Calem gave her a sly look as he glanced down towards his legwear. Like many other Squires and Knights and Soldiers, he donned a slim pair of hose to allow for better movement during his daily routine. On occasion he would overhear the female servants expressing their appreciation for such garments. Seemingly in the vein of that, Serena saw it fit to express her own thoughts regarding Calem’s choice in clothing — only her comments were a lot more playful and friendly but mostly sassy.

“I better be,” Calem replied with a comical air of boldness. “I’m sure the fair maidens of Kalos will appreciate the view.”

The two shared a laugh, then Calem handed her the cup of ale back and returned to his training. He was sure that had the dummy been a living person they would most definitely be dead by now. Either that or severely injured to the most hellish extent.

For a moment the two just remained as they were — Calem furthering his attempt at Knighthood and Serena lounging without a care in the world. They may have been not feasting until dawn or being entertained by court jesters, but even the lowborns had ways of enjoying their spare time.

After a few moments passed and Serena was close to finishing off her meal, she glanced down and noticed something peculiar on the ground of the castle courtyard. She swallowed her final mouthful of buttery pie crust and let out a hum.

“Look over there.”

Calem’s sword collided with the head of the dummy with a mighty force — with his hand still on the grip and the blade still touching the target, he glanced down to see what had Serena’s undertunic in a twist.

Hiding behind an empty wooden wine barrel was Chespin. Its ears were perked up and its eyes showed off an air of curiosity. It stared at the pair of bastards, then looked to Calem in particular.

“Friend of yours?” Serena asked.

“In a way,” the Squire replied. He lowered his sword and handed it to her, then knelt down towards Chespin to look the green and brown creature in the eye. “Hello there, are you lost again?”

Seeing as Chespin was not capable of human speech, it simply walked towards Calem with a clumsy waddle and pressed itself against his shin, wrapping its arms around the limb in an adorable attempt at a hug.

Confused, Calem blinked. “Uh… I’m afraid I’ve run out of apples, Little Imp.”

The grin upon Serena’s face was bright like the sun. “Awww…” she cooed. “It likes you.”

Calem nodded, his bewilderment persisting. “Yes, I can see that.” He knelt down and picked Chespin up, holding the creature with as much care as he did before. He looked the little one in the eye and tickled its stomach like how a mother would to her beloved child. “You’re a real clingy one, aren’t you?”

Serena hopped off the stack of crates and set her cup down. She approached the two and began petting Chespin’s head. “I think it just wants a friend,” she said. “Is the little thief that was running through the kitchens?”

Calem nodded. “Indeed — I released him in the gardens and thought he’d be on his way, I suppose I was wrong.”

Serena scratched behind Chespin’s ears, something that the creature seemed to appreciate. “That doesn’t seem like a bad thing, maybe he wants to be a Knight like you.”

Despite the look of contentedness tugging at his face, Calem felt a pang of worry at the bottom of his stomach. “I’m not sure if Sir Wikstrom would let it be, there are no laws allowing Squires to have creatures with them.”

“But are there any laws stopping Squires from having them?” Serena brought up, playfully smirking at her friend.

For a second Calem began to think — in his head he ran through the various laws of Squirehood that the Knights of Kalos had created in the days of yore. Most of them pertained to public drunkenness and the importance of keeping a Kalosian Knight neatly groomed, but none of them applied to the current situation at hand.

Calem glanced to Chespin, who was currently snuggling its face into the crook of his elbow, smearing green grass stains all over his favourite gambeson. Despite the hesitancy, he gave the little one a grin and lifted the creature high above his head, its tiny feet excitedly swishing through the air.

“I suppose a few days together wouldn’t hurt.”

When Calem brought Chespin down again, he let the creature climb on his shoulder, where it was very glad to be. It settled itself on the top of his head, looking down at its new friend with absolute joy. “I suppose even Squires need Squires sometimes,” he decided, knowing full well that he had made the right choice.

For a few seconds, the pair of bastards beamed at the new creature in their presence… only for the moment to be ruined by Chespin tugging on Calem’s hair.

The Squire’s eyes widened as the creature’s claws grasped onto his dark black locks. “Oh… oh Yvetal, please don’t do that,” he tried, reaching up to get Chespin off his head.

Serena was quick to help, swiftly stepping over and taking Chespin by the scruff of its neck “Whoa, slow down there, most humans don’t like that.”

Once the matter was dealt with and Chespin had let go of Calem’s hair, the Squire sat down on the stack of crates, his newfound friend snuggling onto his lap.

Humoured and exasperated, Calem let out a sigh and then smiled. “We’ve got a few boundaries to discuss, don’t we?”

Serena laughed as Chespin and Calem got to know each other more. Moments passed, then she looked to her left hand, noticing that she had still been holding the Squire’s blunted longsword during all this time. Curiously, she lifted up the weapon and felt its weight in her arms. It was lighter than she expected, or maybe her body was simply harder where a Lady’s would be soft. Perhaps her years of labouring in the Castle had amounted to something after all.

Grasping the longsword in both hands — one by the crossguard and the other by the pommel, just like Calem had taught her — the weapon immediately became more maneuverable. She raised the mighty sword upwards just like Calem did, positioning her feet apart in preparation to throw out a strike.

From where he was sitting on the crates, Calem watched in intrigue and amusement. “You like that sword, don’t you?”

“Who wouldn’t?” Serena said with a confident grin. It was as if merely holding the weapon imbued with the power of Yvetal and Xerneas’s forces combined.

With a tight grip on the handle, Serena brought her sword down and struck the head of her dummy with all of her strength.

#kalosshipping #trainer calem #trainer serena #chespin #kalos #pkmn #xy #period drama but make it pokemon

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be-ace-write-crime · 3 years

Text

Lovely Bride (Ch4)

The search for the stone is on as time gradually slips away for you and your husbands. If you cannot find the stone in time, your husbands will be forced into a thousand year slumber, while your mortal self is forced to perish.

Whatever happened to this Santana they speak of? What project is so important it has been consuming all of Kars' daylight hours? Is time really the only enemy still working against you?

“Wamuu! Come, I have something to show you!” you said, a grin almost splitting your face as you took his hand and guided him towards the river bank.

“Has your training born fruit so soon, beloved?” he asked, following obediently as you’d requested. You had been practicing your hamon while your husbands were out and while you couldn’t really say you’d gotten better at it in the two days you’d had it, it was getting easier to use.

“Well, rather, there’s a trick I wanted to show you,” you said, focusing your energy and stepping onto the water. You sank in about an inch or so, but were effectively walking on top of it.

“Incredible,” Wamuu breathed, his voice filled with awe as he continued to follow you. “You have advanced to the point of such a divine feat already!” he gushed.

“But this isn’t even what I wanted to show you!” you said, pulling him close. The water was up past his knees, and while the stream didn’t hinder him at all, he couldn’t tread on top like you did. You were almost smirking when you tilted his chin up with a single finger and got to lean down to press your lips against his.

The warm chuckle you got when he realized what you’d brought him here for made you giggle right back. “All this for a kiss, my darling? You could have just asked,” he said, his arms draped around your hips when he moved to hug you closer.

“This is more fun,” you said, pecking his forehead. He let out a deep sigh and you felt some of the tension drain from his shoulders.

“I wish I could stay with you longer like this,” he said, leaning in to rest his head against your chest. “I fear for you out there by yourself in the daytime. Humans are no less vicious than vampires if given the chance.”

“I won’t be alone,” you whispered softly, carding your fingers through his hair. It wasn’t nearly as soft as Kars’ flowing mane, but the short, bristly strands felt so nice running between your fingers. Their height, Wamuu’s especially, was an obvious part of what made them so glorious to behold, but something about holding your lover this way and having him let his guard down because he felt safe in your arms just filled you with warmth.

“Right, Aries will be a worthy companion to you on your journey, beloved,” he agreed. “I’ll see to it a meal is ready for you when you return. Please be careful,” he warned, lifting you onto your horse’s back and seeing you off before he returned to the temple.

You were dressed inconspicuously for this journey. Your clothes were of a finer make, but modest and plainly colored. You had finally gotten Aries to submit to your reins and a saddle and the massive black horse should deter anyone from trying to get too close.

You had enough money to simply purchase the stone, as it would be considerably harder for you to steal it than it would be for your husbands. You took great care to hide the money you had and disguise the jingling of coins in your purse to avoid being robbed.

Plenty of women in the capital were left unattended by their husbands if their husbands were traveling merchants, sailors or soldiers, but they would usually have a chaperon or at least a handmaid to escort them. You didn’t feel unsafe per se, but you knew a rich woman by herself, carrying a great amount of valuables, invited trouble.

The ride to the capital was easy enough. A well beaten path led the way and no one paid any mind to yet another stranger on a horse. At most some children looked and pointed at the massive steed, but no one stopped you. Aries might have been better suited for one of your husbands to ride, given his size, but he responded well to your calming presence and went wherever you guided him.

There were plenty of merchants selling jewelry by the side of the road and you stopped to examine their goods a handful of times, but you had seen enough gold and gems by then to tell these were mostly just trinkets and given their quality the red stone couldn’t possibly be among their wares.

You’d made it down to the docks with no luck, telling various lies as to what you were looking for and why. “My husband has been commissioned by a senator to create a great art piece.” “My father’s estate was stolen and the stone is a treasured heirloom.” “A servant stole it and my husband will be furious if I do not retrieve it before he returns.”

It didn’t help. No one knew of the red stone and while they could point you to the parts of town where you might find such a pricey gem, they had never even heard of an Aja.

It was late afternoon, going on in the evening, when you tied Aries down to rest and drink for a while before returning home. Everyone around you seemed to be gathering in anticipation of the departure of some imperial vessel, so you were left alone.

“I’ve never been here. How will I find some jeweler who is wealthy enough to have the red stone…?” you pondered out loud, sighing tiredly. “The stone isn’t just beautiful and rare. It’s a weapon in its own right. Like master Esidisi said, it would garner attention if anyone were trying to sell it, so why hasn’t it?” you mused. Then a thought hit you and you almost smacked yourself because it was so obvious.

“They’re not trying to sell it. It’s already been sold to someone who intends to keep it for themselves! Someone rich and powerful enough to wear such a gaudy and massive gemstone…” you said, grinning at Aries. “No merchant will know about it, except the one that sold it, because it is no longer for sale! It’s sitting in the collection of some affluent statesman or scholar,” you concluded, untying Aries and mounting his back as soon as he had finished drinking. He could rest all night once you had returned to the temple to discuss your findings.

The crowd of people parted easily for a horse his size as you made your way back to the main road, passing the caravan that was to be boarding the large roman war vessel that docked a few minutes prior.

“The stone is with someone powerful and rich who could afford to buy something so precious and also wear it without getting killed for it. Someone… Someone like…”

You were passing the lead of the caravan’s formation now, a group of soldiers riding horses that matched Aries in size to bear the weight of them and their armor, when your gaze was met by the coldest, most vicious eyes you had ever seen on a human.

Time almost seemed to slow to a crawl and you needed every second of it to tear you gaze from that icy, indifferent stare, for it to land on the very stone you had been searching for. It was the brilliant, glittering center piece of an amulet larger than your palm and there was no mistaking what it was, or who it belonged to.

“Someone like the emperor of Rome…”

When you returned you passed through your village first, finding your husbands there, rather than at the temple where you expected to find them.

“It is already dark. You are late,” Kars said.

“Lord Kars was becoming worried,” Esidisi said, noticing the way you flinched at being scolded. You could tell some of Kars’ more obvious signs of nerves at this point. His sitting on the edge of his seat, tapping his fingers, the pinch in his brow that made the markings around his eyes look sharp and threatening. He would sooner express his concern for you through discontent than affection, but you saw it for what it was and weren’t offended.

“Aries was tired. I didn’t want to push him too much,” you explained, glad an abundance of hay had been laid out to feed him already.

“If he is tired, that means he has served you well today,” Wamuu said, petting the horse’s flank. “How was the capital?” he asked.

Before you could answer Kars stood and scooped you into his arms, carrying you over to sit on his lap, making you smile. “It was fine. No one tried to hurt me, masters,” you assured him.

“They better not, or their head would roll before the next sunrise,” your master huffed bitterly at the thought. He pressed a soft kiss to your cheek and you returned the gesture in the hope of calming him down.

“I have… some good news and some bad news,” you started.

“Let’s get the bad news over with first,” Esidisi sighed. He probably figured you had found nothing, as they had found nothing for the past few days. He couldn’t fathom what the good news might be.

“The red stone has left the continent by sea…” you answered, noticing the harsh shift this statement brought in their demeanor. Something anxious and bordering on the rage they never wished to show you, but you had their full attention now.

“How do you know this?” Kars asked.

“I saw it. The stone is part of an amulet worn by the emperor now. I watched him board an imperial vessel and was told its destination was to be the city of Alexandria…” you said, wringing your hands together nervously. If only you could have taken the stone then and there, but obviously you would have been killed if you had tried that.

“Are you sure it was the red stone?” Wamuu asked. You nodded.

“I wouldn’t have said this if I wasn’t completely sure. It was a super Aja the size of my palm at least. The way it shone, it couldn’t possibly be anything else…”

“It would explain why we found no one advertising such a treasure… But the stone departing by sea is the worst thing that could have happened,” Esidisi groaned.

“We can traverse land far more quickly than any humans so long as we can avoid the sun, but to cross the ocean we would be bound to the speed of a human made ship. It is impossible to swim across the ocean to Alexandria in a single night and there would be nowhere to hide from the sun... “ Kars said, near shaking with rage.

“It takes a week to sail from Rome to Alexandria,” Esidisi said.

“It takes only five if we depart from the southernmost point of Sicily,” Kars said, standing up.

“Aries isn’t fit for that journey tonight and I see no other way for (Y/N) to keep up,” Wamuu said. Neither of you wanted to leave him behind, but your poor boy was exhausted after a full day of traveling.

“I have a solution for that. Prepare to depart within the hour,” Kars announced, vanishing to retrieve whatever the four of you might need on this journey.

“Will we be coming back here?”

“Unlikely,” Esidisi answered, looking up at the temple. “Best you gather anything you would like to see preserved. This may be the last time you see your home at all,” he professed gravely.

You swallowed a lump in your throat and asked Esidisi to bring you up the mountain. Your belongings already consisted of very little. Of course, of the treasure your husbands had gathered you wished you could bring all of it, but you wouldn’t have much use for wealth. It was so jarring to think you might never see your home again. Some other humans would find this shell of a village and move in eventually, but a thousand years from now, would any of it still be there? Would anyone know about your people?

You gathered all the things that had become significant to you. The wreath you had been given by your people, the dagger you got from Wamuu, the scrolls detailing the use of hamon and your people’s history from Esidisi, and the vial of antidote from lord Kars. That and whatever clothes you deemed worth packing. Kars emerged from his chamber with a large bag hanging from his shoulder, a single stone mask with a hollow fit for the red stone and a small wooden box. Your candle barely shone into his large bedroom, but you could see the faint glittering of gold and the numerous maps and tapestries that he left behind.

“Have you gathered all you needed to?” he asked. You nodded, holding the somewhat heavy bag with both your hands. It felt like a lot to bring along and yet far too little if it was all that was going to be preserved of your entire way of living. You kept reminding yourself if only you could find the stone in time this wouldn’t be the end.

“Are you sure you don’t want to bring anything else?” you asked, just to be sure.

“I remember everything that is written in those scrolls and drawn on those maps. If we are forced to sleep those would turn to dust before we return and we have no use for material goods like humans do. I am only bringing items that may serve a purpose or cannot be easily replaced,” he said, taking your bag and slinging it over his shoulder as well.

Esidisi had gathered up enough money to buy a small country and a single change of clothes for Wamuu and himself. None of them were very sentimental about worldly possessions it seemed. It made sense, given their immortality, to not get too attached to material things, but your little mortal self still felt a pang of hurt leaving the temple and all that was left there behind.

“Is there anything else in the village you wish to bring, dear (Y/N)?” Wamuu asked. He’d made the effort to gather roughly a week’s worth of food for you on your journey and the supplies to care for Aries, but your boy still looked tired and ready to get his saddle off and rest.

“No, there’s nothing here that would be sensible to bring along. I’ll miss it, but it’s alright,” you said, forcing a smile.

“Lord Kars, you had a way for Aries to endure the journey to Sicily tonight?” your first husband asked. Kars opened the box he’d brought along, showing a very different stone mask from the ones you’d seen before. One made to fit the face of a horse.

You stared at him for a moment, slack jawed. A vampire horse?!

“I’ll ask your permission, but really, you’ll need a proper mount for this journey and either you let Aries be transformed, or you’ll have to leave him behind,” he said, holding the mask out to you. The stallion still liked to nip at your master or try to when he got too close. He preferred Wamuu and yourself as his caretakers.

“That’s alright,” you said, stroking your horse’s neck and ears. To you it didn’t matter much if he was transformed. You’d feel guilty for depriving him of the sun, but in exchange he would remain by you and your husbands’ sides forever as an immortal creature of legends. If he did have to eat meat from living things you wouldn’t mind, so long as he didn’t turn his appetite on good humans. “I love you so much, sweetie. This will hurt for a moment, so please forgive me,” you said, placing the mask over his face. Esidisi kindly spilled just a few drops of blood on it and a series of spikes dug itself into his skull with a loud crunch.

Aries staggered and cried. Wamuu pulled you back and you winced in sympathy for your sweet boy as his hooves slammed down like a sledge on an anvil and he shook off the mask. His teeth were razor sharp and he seemed even bigger and more imposing than before. There was a clarity in his now blood red eyes, like he understood he had been changed. For a moment you were scared, thinking he might turn on you for allowing him to be hurt now that he was a vampire, like the wretched old man you’d been forced to kill, but Aries settled and bowed his head, nudging you gently like he’d done the night you first met.

“The transformation went over well. Better than I expected,” Kars said, reaching over to stroke the horse’s head, but Aries still snapped at him and now he could have likely taken several fingers off. Your master yanked his hand back and scowled. “Still as temperamental as ever, I see… He retained his overall memories and attitude. He’ll have the stamina and speed required for this journey now. Are you all ready to leave?” he asked.

“Yes, my masters. I’m ready,” you answered.

Truth be told, you were tired. You’d been up before sunrise and out all day, but sleeping was the furthest thought from your mind right now. Hoofbeats came down like rolling thunder in the night's darkness. The new moon left the path enveloped in shadow, but Aries galloped straight ahead wherever he was led to, never hesitating or fussing to show fatigue. You were hardly guiding him; you didn’t know where you were going, but you could sense your husbands nearby, even in the dark. Brief flashes of light or warmth, or the wind whipping unnaturally, told you they were close.

“Are you alright?” Wamuu asked you at some point. You’d completely zoned out for a while now, only focussing slightly when you passed through the occasional village. You were aching from how long you’d been riding for, even with hamon to ease the strain on your body, and exhaustion was taking its toll.

“Are we almost there?” you asked back. It felt like you were going so fast you might be, but you wouldn’t get your hopes up too much. You jerked as you felt yourself being suddenly lifted out of your saddle, but calmed down quickly in the familiar embrace of your husband’s arms. He’d taken your place as the rider, cradling you in his arms instead. “Isn’t both of us too heavy?”

“Normally, yes, but Aries is a vampire now. He can easily carry both of us,” he assured you. Esidisi had once told you the strength of a vampire was between five and ten times that of a human. If the same applied to vampire horses carrying both of you shouldn’t be a problem. He was certainly big enough for Wamuu to ride as well. “You seem tired,” he pointed out.

“I am,” you sighed. “But more than that, I’m nervous,” you said. Being held in his arms eased the aching of your legs and back, but you couldn’t relax completely just yet.

“Come what may, my shining dawn, we will persevere,” he said, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Very soon we will reach the ocean to cross onto the island of Sicily. We will travel along its shore until we can go no further and from there we will take a ship to Alexandria,” he explained, helping you sit up. You knew the plan already, but still couldn’t keep a grin off your face.

“You want to show me the ocean?” you asked. You did remember asking before, but you’d almost forgotten about it already.

“I realize it’s not exactly what you intended, but I would like you to enjoy it regardless,” the wind god answered. “I remember first seeing the ocean myself. Lord Kars and Esidisi hadn’t bothered to explain it to me and proceeded to laugh when I asked which way would take us around this lake the fastest. My brother Santana tried to drink from it. That was a very unpleasant surprise,” he told you, making you laugh. “Lord Kars says a great thinker should be able to imagine an ocean from seeing a single drop of water. I suppose that is why he is a philosopher and a scientist and I am a warrior,” he added.

“You possess wisdom in different walks of life, my love,” you said, leaning your head against his chest. “Whatever happened to your brother? You’ve mentioned him before, but I’ve never seen him. Where is he?”

You couldn’t see very well in the dark, but you could tell Wamuu’s mood fell instantly with that question.

“Lord Kars killed every member of our tribe who rejected his views, nearly all of them. Most because they sought to bring him down, but many simply because he didn’t deem them worthy if they only strived to wait out eternity underground… Santana and I were children when this happened and for many years we resided where our tribe had once lived while lord Kars sought to perfect the stone masks. Eventually he came to the conclusion mere stone would not suffice and we would leave in search of a catalyst that would perfect his creation and us in turn. Santana and I were… adolescent at that time, he was younger than me by a thousand years or so, but old enough to make his own choices,” he explained, voice tinged with sadness. “When lord Kars said we would cross the ocean and not return, he rebelled, deciding he would rather remain by himself in the ruins of our old tribe by himself. He and lord Kars had grown somewhat indifferent to our training in favour of their… our pursuit of the stone… Master Esidisi thought it a childish rebellion. He persuaded lord Kars to wait for his return… We waited on that shore for a decade. The human population was dwindling. We left and that was the last I saw of him. About 3000 years ago,” he explained.

You swallowed a lump in your throat, bracing yourself to ask the next question. “I-Is he alright? The sun… were there hamon users on this continent as well…?”

“Hm? Santana was young, but strong and smart enough to stay out of the sun. There were no hamon users there and enough stone masks that I am sure he is alive and well!” he said, although he sounded like he was trying to reassure himself as much as you.

Aries pace began to slow. Over the sound of his heavy breathing and the trot of his hooves you could hear the subtle lull of waves dragging over the shore. “Best not mention this to lord Kars or master Esidisi. They will deny it, but the loss of my brother has caused them great pain.”

You nodded, standing on shaky legs as you were let down onto the sandy shore. Kars had killed all who didn’t share his views, yet he waited on Santana for ten years. Clearly this testified to some sort of greater love, even if they hadn’t chased him when he left. If after ten years he didn’t come find them, he likely wouldn’t have changed his mind about the search for the red stone if they had. Even you knew Kars wouldn’t be dissuaded from his plans, so perhaps it really was for the best that he stayed behind somewhere familiar. You hoped the stone masks meant he had some kind of companionship, although you were pretty sure Wamuu meant to imply he had plenty of vampires to turn into food.

“I warned you riding that horse would slow it down,” Kars said. You could just barely make out his face in the dark, but your eyes were caught by something possibly more beautiful than that. The ocean was as smooth as a mirror and the stars illuminating the sky reflected off the pitch black depths like an infinite cosmos.

“Forgive me, lord Kars. Our dear bride looked like she needed some company,” Wamuu explained, followed by a sound like a whip cracking and an uncharacteristic sound of surprise from your first husband. You were sure you’d never heard him gasp for anything, but that’s what it sounded like.

“Don’t use her as an excuse, Wamuu. You were the one craving company,” his master corrected him and you snorted a laugh while he put a hand over his sore backside where he’d been struck.

“Hah! You have not resorted to physical reprimands in a long time, my lord. Don’t be so harsh on him. I’m sure he just wanted to spend some time with someone a little closer in age,” Esidisi said and you bit your tongue hard to a barrage of comments and questions to yourself. You usually prided yourself on being able to keep secrets, but this was a lot to take in, let alone keep it there.

“He can do so without telling lies. There is a ferry that will take us across to Sicily. From there it will be about two more hours to the southernmost point of the island. We’ll need to secure a ship before dawn breaks, so don’t waste any more time on pleasantries,” he warned back.

“Understood, master,” Wamuu said. “I’ll recover the time I wasted by blowing wind in your sails. I’ll swim across easily,” he said. You could only make out this ‘ferry’ by the sails blocking out the stars in one spot.

“It’s impossible to blow wind in the sails when you’re on the vessel with us?” you asked. “I mean it seems unlikely, but the god of wind…”

“His control of wind is a physical ability, not some divine magic from human myths. It might create some motion, but more likely it will damage the mast,” Kars answered, picking you up and lifting you onto the ship.

“I still don’t fully understand your powers or what you are. You’re not the gods of legend I was taught to worship. Since your arrival, I don’t know what to believe anymore,” you said. You were hurting all over and couldn’t see a thing, so that was probably best you let yourself be carried. It would also give you a brief window to talk to Kars away from Wamuu before you would be confined to a ship together for a week. Aries made the leap aboard almost as easily and Esidisi was right behind you when a sudden torrent of wind disturbed the mirror-like surface of the ocean and the ship jerked into motion.

“We were born from two parents each, just like humans. We were always immortal, living vicariously through the living things around us, but the masks I made gave us the powers you would call magic or miracles. We have seen hundreds of human communities, all worshiping their own gods and sometimes worshiping us as well. We never did encounter any of your human ‘gods’ and in many cases they seemed to worship perfectly natural things as miracles. I for one don’t concern myself with any gods, unless they should attempt to stand in my way,” Kars explained.

“And there is no one else like the three of you?” you asked. You didn’t expect him to give a straight answer, but you didn’t expect him to lie either. You were curious either way.

“There is one more like us. A youngling by the name of Santana, who still resides on the continent we hail from,” Kars answered, pausing for a moment. “Perhaps you will meet him when we have obtained the stone. Besides him there is no one,” he said simply, handing you off to Esidisi before you could ask anything else. “The crossing will be swift, so restrain yourself. The horse has done enough to bruise her loins tonight,” he warned, making you blush.

“My loins are perfectly fine,” you insisted in a huff.

“I could fix that,” your second husband promptly offered. Luckily he could see your flustered expression in the dark and just laughed. It was true it was your legs and back that were hurting, but you were in no mood to spread your legs in any capacity. “You were wondering about Santana?”

“Yes,” you admitted. “Wamuu asked me not to press the matter, but if you’re the only ones left from your kind… Even lord Kars said that once you have obtained the stone…” You trailed off as your hand was brought up to your lover’s face and you could feel the hot tears rolling down his cheeks.

“I treasure him and Wamuu as I would my own children, dear (Y/N),” he murmured, clearly holding back worse tears. “He was becoming so strong and I had nothing left to teach and he took this as neglect… When Kars decided we would depart from our homeland where we were worshiped as gods in search of some way to further advance the masks it was the last straw… Ten long years we waited, but he never came around… I knew in my heart of hearts he lives, but…” Esidisi trailed off, his shoulders shaking with heaving sobs and you quickly hugged him, letting him soak the fabric of your dress with tears.

“Esidisi… my king of flames, you will see him again… Soon you will have the stone and when you do-”

“Will he still want us in his life after all those years? Will he forgive us for leaving? It’s been so many years, he’ll have grown up and I will never get those moments back~!!!” he sobbed, partially muffled against your chest.

You gently pat his head, shushing him softly while he wailed.

“He’ll still love you. It’s true you can’t change the time you spent apart, but you can’t change the centuries you spent together either…” you tried to remind him. You didn’t want to tell him to stop crying. He had never once told you to stop crying, and you had cried a lot. However, you weren’t supposed to bring this up and now Esidisi was in hysterics.

The ship jerked to an abrupt halt, the wooden boards creaking from the amount of force dragging the vessel onto the shore.

“That was quick…” you noted, blinking in surprise as Esidisi’s crying stopped just as abruptly.

“Ah, yes. It is a short distance and Wamuu’s winds are exceptionally strong. Thank you for allowing me to vent these thoughts and emotions with you, my darling,” Esidisi said, standing and lifting you up with him. “I am glad to have you, my dancing flame, to ground me when my emotions run too high.”

“Y-You’re welcome? You calmed down very quickly,” you said, a little confused. You winced as you were lifted back into your saddle. This ride was not going to be a pleasant one.

“Relieving pent up feelings through crying like that keeps me in control of my emotions when I need to be. Now is no time for crying or we won’t make it before sunrise. Come on, let us hurry!” he said, a light smack to Aries’ rear spurring him into a gallop as he gave chase to your husband.

“Shouldn’t we wait for Wamuu to catch up?” you asked. Riding along the beach shore would be easier. The sand was easy to ride on and the water’s edge gave you a rough idea of where you were headed, instead of riding blind.

“That would defeat the purpose of the head start he gave us. When we arrive at our destination, we still must secure another vessel and hope the wind turns more favorably,” Kars answered.

Logically you knew it would be alright. Even if you didn’t make it before dawn, you would reach Alexandria in a few days. Finding the emperor of Rome shouldn’t be too hard and you had no doubts your husbands could take the stone easily.

Still, you were uneasy. What if you didn’t make it in time and your husbands got burned in the sun? What if something happened while you were out at sea? What if you had made a mistake, and you wasted your husbands’ time for a gaudy piece of red glass? What if you didn’t find the stone at all?

These uneasy thoughts plagued you. If this all turned out to be for nothing, you would have no one but yourself to blame. They would have no one but yourself to blame.

The coming day colored the distant horizon a pale blue and the stars flickered out one by one against the dark sky. The threat of sunlight loomed in that distance and you were so ready to just collapse.

Exhaustion began feeding into your worries. They hadn’t made you a vampire so you could help them find the stone and what good would you be if you failed at that?

Esidisi might have had the right idea about crying the way he did, but crying to him about this would mean openly admitting to your worries and fears. You would have to tell them and you simply couldn’t bring yourself to, so these feelings stayed cooped up inside you.

You could already see clearly when you made it to a harbor town on the southern cape of the island. Fishermen were getting ready on smaller boats and you and Aries followed your husbands at a calm trot as they slowed to board the largest vessel on the small dock. It was another ship belonging to the imperial navy and it was guarded, but your husbands walked almost right through them onto the ship. You still flinched seeing it, those soldiers didn’t even know what hit them before they died.

“How much do you know about sailing a ship like this?” Kars asked you as he and Esidisi began preparing for departure like they had owned it for years.

“My family didn’t think I should be outside of the kitchen. I don’t know a thing about sailing…” you answered. Why would they teach you anything about finding your way if you were never supposed to leave your little village?

“Right. I expected as much. You see where the sun is rising? That’s the direction we’re heading in. By noon the sun should be behind you. We can teach you how to properly navigate later,” he sighed. You wanted to sigh back at him, because you needed to rest. You could go a single night without sleep, but not a night like this one.

“Yes, master… Do you not get tired at all? Ever?” you asked, standing at the ship’s helm.

“I get tired of waiting,” Kars remarked snidely. For someone who supposedly didn’t get tired then, he sure sounded like someone who hadn’t had his coffee after four hours of repeatedly interrupted sleep.

That being said, you were getting worried. The sun was almost up and there were no mountains or trees, or anything that would provide shade for them to walk safely.

“Is Wamuu going to be here in time?” you asked, looking for reassurance.

“If I’m being honest, he might not be here before dawn,” Esidisi said, getting Aries settled below deck and out of the light. You jerked and sputtered for something to say, but they both laughed.

“Wamuu has been working on a new technique to get around his vulnerability to the sun’s light. He wanted to surprise you with it, but I suppose it would be better to tell you now than to have you fear for his life once the sun rises,” Kars said, joining Esidisi in the shadow of the ship’s hold. You were stunned at how casually they brushed off the risk, or rather the inevitability, of their companion burning in the rays of the sunrise.

The ocean current and a strong breeze were already pulling the vessel away from the shore and you had no way of controlling its pace, only its direction. The horizon was set awash in a blaze of red and gold, sunlight reflecting off the surface of the waves to the point where it was almost blinding. The light was warm, but all you felt were cold chills as you clutched the ship’s wheel to stay upright, looking out across the beach where you still didn’t see Wamuu.

You felt yourself about to start crying again, when your tired, bloodshot eyes noticed something moving rapidly towards you. At first it looked like it was just the wind, carrying a gust of dry sand with it, but it was too oddly shaped. It took until the strange creature leapt into the air, over you, and onto the main deck that you understood what was happening. Wamuu had encased himself in a tempest strong enough to have the vapor in his currents refract and reflect light away from him, essentially creating his own shadow from wind. While it certainly wasn’t the glorious sight of the morning sun washing over his bronze skin, to have him stand beside you in the daylight made your heart leap with both relief and utter joy.

“I-I’m so glad you’re safe! That’s incredible! You’re incredible!” you almost yelled.

“I’d say that puts us even for yesterday morning,” he chuckled.

“Heh, only if I get a kiss!” you said with a big grin.

“Later. Best not to break these winds in the light of day,” he said, a little gust of wind dancing through your hair and making your skirt flutter like a playful caress before he went to join the rest of your little family in the dark hold of the ship.

Relief from having him safely in your care was enough to unwind the knot of anxiety in your stomach and you could finally relax somewhat. Your already shaky legs were getting used to the rocking of the ship. There was something slightly surreal about being the only one on deck like this, watching the sunrise, steering a ship of this size.

It was also a little surreal to think of the three pillarmen and the vampire warhorse below deck as your family. You made an odd combination. Three man eating demigods, a forsaken sacrificial bride, and a carnivorous horse, but you couldn’t have wished for a better family looking back.

Thinking about family brought back the memory of your sister and her two girls. Your nieces. You had no way of telling what they were up to right now, or if they were okay. Your sister was a fighter, always had been, but it was one thing to keep herself standing as a widow in your village and another entirely to be all alone in the world.

The day seemed to drag by slowly and when the sun was high you had grown hungry. You locked the ship’s wheel in one position and headed over to the hatch that led down into the hold. Your husbands had created a den of sorts that bordered on a massive nest in the area that would have been designated for a crew to sleep in.

You had no cargo to move and no crew, so the hold was spacious enough that Aries could stand and walk around and your husbands could lounge around on the extra pillows and bedding like kings.

“Hungry?” Kars asked knowingly. You nodded and grinned when you noticed Esidisi holding a steaming pot with some kind of soup. For a second you worried he might burn his hands, but then you realized he was probably the reason that the pan was hot in the first place. Probably a good idea not to start fires inside a wooden cargo hold.

“I wanted to ask something,” you said between bites, scarfing down half the meal in record time. Your husbands didn’t eat very gracefully either, and putting it all in your mouth looked sort of odd to them whether you minded your table manners or not. “After we find the stone… Would you mind if I tried to seek out my sister and her children? By now you must be sure I won’t leave you and even if I can’t convince them to swear allegiance to you after what happened, I would like to see them again,” you asked, looking up shyly and waiting for a response.

“Hmm? You’ll be free to pursue whatever your heart desires once we have obtained the stone. Go wherever and do whatever you want, within reason,” Kars answered, returning his focus to a new stone mask he was carving.

“Within reason?” you asked. Your definitions of reason and reasonable had become incredibly flexible in recent weeks, given the invasion of vampires, marrying three gods, learning to fight vampires, walk on water, riding a hoofed demon to the end of the continent in pursuit of the roman emperor to steal a magic stone, etc.

“Avoid things like orgies or stealing humans, killing human monarchs unplanned, that sort of thing. Meeting with your sister isn’t counted among such things, obviously,” Esidisi said.

You almost choked on your food and snickered. “Oh, and I had such great plans!” you joked. “I just hope they’re okay… They’re the most precious humans in the world to me and I miss having them around…”

“They’re ours as well, dear (Y/N),” Wamuu said. “As far as humans go, they’re important to us as well, right after you of course.”

More so than even the meal, his words made you feel warm inside. To know that what was important to you was important to them was such a blessing.

“I’d like to have a larger family again,” Esidisi said cheerfully. “Say, do you think our family will continue to grow?” he asked, his gaze falling on your stomach and you took a solid five seconds to process the implications of that question.

You hadn’t even considered you might get pregnant. You hadn’t really thought much beyond the month you had been given on the night you got engaged, but obviously you were planning further ahead now.

You should probably not indulge that line of thinking before at least six hours of sleep, but the idea was in your head now. Could they get you pregnant? How long would that take given how long they lived? Would you be raising a child like them or would it be human? Would it have to live in darkness with them or would they be putting a stone mask on a baby? You had slept with all three of them, so would there be a way of telling whose child it was? Would that even matter? Was there a chance you were already with child?

“C-Can I even… We’re not exactly the same species, right?” you asked. “Lord Kars?”

If anyone would know it was him. Kars seemed to be as caught off guard by the question as you, looking up and staring almost blankly into space for a few moments, but then looked back down to his work, his brows pinched together as he tried to regain his focus. “No, you won’t,” he answered simply.

You’d been a little scared of the prospect at first, but somehow being told that it was impossible to bear any of your husbands’ children was worse.

“Why not?” Esidisi asked, pulling you into his lap. He felt hot all around you and you guessed this was another way in which his emotions showed.

“Is there nothing you could do to make it so?” Wamuu suggested, a tinge of hurt shining through in his own voice.

“Our species aren’t incompatible by any means. The child would be most similar to us, before we were changed by the stone masks, however -” Kars explained, casting a harsh look at them. “No child of either species responds well to blunt force trauma or extreme heat while it is in the womb. You can’t expect to father any offspring through battering and boiling her insides,” he scolded them, making the three of you flinch collectively.

“But if… uh… maybe…” you trailed off, unsure of what you were really asking.

“You’re in good health and if you don’t attempt anything more violent than what you have done so far, you’ll be able to bear as many children as you please when the time is right,” Kars assured you. “In the meantime, try to practice your hamon. It is the best way for you to endure mating and remain healthy. If you wish for a child, you shall have it, but by the stars don’t ask me to give you one right now,” he sighed, having too much to deal with already. You chuckled and nodded.

“I understand. Thank you, master,” you said, Esidisi dragging you onto his lap to cuddle. “Now would not be a good time for me to be pregnant. It might actually be better if it doesn’t happen until we’re in agreement it’s a good time.”

“The fact most humans don’t even consider that is the reason they’re such an invasive species,” Kars mumbled. “If we are forced to sleep I expect the population of humans will have grown tenfold across the globe, if not more,” he huffed.

“That many?” you asked. “There are already so many who starve and wars over territory…”

“And those will be even greater by then. Trust me, humans are more persistent than rats in that regard,” he said. You wanted to argue, but were unsure how. You couldn’t exactly disprove his claims, but it was hard to wrap your head around what he’d said. You’d seen so little of the world before and lived such a short life in comparison to them.

“Whether we sleep or find the stone, we’ll live long enough to see,” you decided eventually, figuring he’d either be right or you could tell him he’d been wrong later.

“If we find the stone and become gods I fully intend on culling the worst of the human population. Starting with its greedy oppressors and ending with each and every one who so much as looks at a dog wrong,” Kars muttered. It sounded harsh enough to make you flinch, but you couldn’t disagree with the types of humans he’d want to get rid of. Being a god it really was his call to make.

It was a strange process, coming to accept this, realizing there really was no one who could stop him or challenge his authority on who he was allowed to live. It was hard, but the more you got to know the three of them the more you trusted him to actually make that call.

Your people worshiped several gods who had done worse things than wipe out a single village that opposed them like yours had. If they did conquer the sun and decided they would decapitate the emperor before his senate, what else was there to be done, except bow to their wishes?

“I can’t help but notice, beloved, that you said we ,” Wamuu pointed out.

“If you’ll have me that long, I’m sure you’ll find a way for us to stay together,” you said with a small shrug. “I trust you.”

Those words brought smiles to their faces. It was a comfort to know you no longer feared them the way you had when you first presented yourself as their bride and you finally viewed yourself as being worthy of your status as their bride.

“You should get back on deck and adjust our course. The ship has been pulling north. After sunset we will take over and you’ll be free to sleep,” Kars said.

You groaned loudly and leaned back against Esidisi, who’s unnatural warmth was beckoning you to fall asleep for a while now.

“It’s an important job that only you can do,” he said, moving you from his lap, which felt like the height of treason. Would he also push a tired kitten off his lap?!

“Hmm, I know. I’m going. Maybe before becoming immortal, you should be mortals for a day. Just feeling tired and having headaches from not drinking enough water and inexplicable stomach gurgles from eating the wrong thing, like the rest of us,” you said, relishing in their expressions of absolute horror and disgust as you climbed the stairs.

“Maybe we’ll give you a stone mask and you can live hiding in a cave like the rest of us,” Kars yelled after you in retort, but you knew he wouldn’t.

“With my three husbands who can still go outside and 200 vampire servants? I’m in!” you called back jokingly, letting the hatch fall shut as a means of ending that debate.

You wouldn’t want to become a vampire, but if your husbands were going to be keeping you awake for two days straight while dragging you around a thousand miles, you might as well remind them the sun was the only part they were missing out on in the human experience.

You were so ready to sleep by the time the sun was setting you didn’t even speak to your husbands for the rest of the day. You were offered the captain’s quarters, but refused, choosing to sleep in the nest they had constructed in the hold. You thanked the stars you were apparently the kind of person to not experience sea-sickness easily, actually finding the rocking of the waves very soothing as you went to sleep.

It was almost dawn when you woke up, feeling infinitely better than you had the night before. You climbed out onto the deck after you had changed your clothes and fixed your hair, surprised to hear a faint sound of music.

Kars was laying back on the railing, plucking the strings on a lute with his eyes closed like he was Apollo himself. Wamuu was the one standing at the helm and Esidisi was seated at the opposing railing with a fishing line cast.

“I didn’t know you played music…” you said. Kars opened one eye and chuckled.

“These past millenia would have been awfully boring without it. There are many things you don’t know about us,” he said, while you leaned against the heavy wooden railing.

“Such as?” you asked, watching his fingers carefully dance along the strings in a playful melody.

“Esidisi is an excellent poet,” he offered, to which the fire god nearly jumped out of his skin.

“Don’t tell her that! In our language, yes! But certainly not in this one!” he complained.

“I could translate! Why don’t I tell her what you were saying while she slept before?” Kars said, smirking like the evil bastard he was.

“Do NOT tell her that!” Esidisi yelled, which only made you more curious.

“Lord Kars is especially fond of birds and dogs,” Wamuu interjected. “And he was the first to devise a compass, many centuries before humans thought to. Why don’t I show you how to read it while our masters coordinate their serenade?” he suggested, picking you up and taking you out of the crossfire that was about to ensue between his elders.

“An excellent idea, Wamuu. Esidisi, get over here!” Kars called out.

You felt a little bad for abandoning him, but your curiosity won out. Besides, you needed to learn how to navigate properly. He pointed out which stars in the sky to follow to your destination, how to read the compass and then went into which ropes held up which sails and when to lower or raise them. You’d have some serious calluses on your hands by the end of this trip, but you were still grateful to learn.

The lesson was interrupted when you noticed something had taken the bait on Esidisi’s fishing line.

“Were you fishing for me?” you asked curiously.

“You can have it if you’d like, but that wasn’t the main reason I wash fishing, beloved,” he answered, gutting the struggling fish that was about the length of his forearm. He dumped the blood and guts overboard and it expectedly drew some larger predators to the surface near the boat. A shark made the mistake of leaping out of the water and was promptly caught by your husband through the use of his extended veins.

“Aries! Dinner time!” he called out, hauling the shark onto the deck. Aries gracefully ran over and bit into the still struggling shark. You’d never heard the noise a shark made. You weren’t sure how to describe it, but it made some kinda noise as the horse consumed it whole, the entire ordeal accompanied by Kars’ upbeat strumming in the background.

Wamuu and Esidisi snickered at the shocked expression on your face as you began to sputter something about your horse devouring a shark. They ignored most of your indignation, you’d get used to it, and Esidisi asked if you would still like to have the fish before the sun came up.

You listened to Kars play for a little while longer at the top of the hatch as you ate and watched the sunrise. Esidisi recited some of his poetry at your request and Kars translated. It sounded beautiful the way he said and according to your master it meant something along the lines of how the blazing sun looked so gentle in your eyes and like the sun his love would burn eternally. You hid your grin behind your hands, blushing bright red at the explanation.

“He’s quite the romantic,” Kars chuckled, getting hit with a pillow by Esidisi, who looked so red that pillow might catch fire.

“Please return to the helm, if you would, my lovely flame? Lord Kars and I have something to discuss,” your second husband instructed, to which you nodded and ran off, giggling like a little girl.

If this was how the rest of your journey would go, you’d be alright.

For the most part it did. With little you could do in the lay of training and nothing else to occupy your time you found yourself with your three husbands vying for your attention throughout most of the nights. During the day you had taken to copying the scrolls detailing your people’s history, planning to leave the originals at the library of Alexandria when you arrived there.

You knew your husbands had noticed, but they hadn’t stopped you. Maybe they saw some value in preserving your people’s history and ways, or maybe it was just a small show of sympathy to you personally. It was reassuring to think the good things you had experienced with your people wouldn’t be lost forever and you could do them this small service.

You once told Esidisi maybe it was right for you to pass on as your people had. Maybe that was more fair. He’d called it survivor’s guilt and insisted you didn’t need to justify your survival, least of all to people that would have sent you to die, but the feel still gnawed vaguely inside of your chest.

Throughout the night it would be a contest for who got to have you to themselves. Kars liked to veto your attention whenever it looked like you weren’t busy, so you had to try to look busy with your first two husbands. It wasn’t all that hard, Esidisi was happy to let you touch his hair or cuddle, so was Wamuu but you would normally just sit in his lap or talk about animals.

You in turn had had your hair braided in all sorts of ways and would talk about flowers or animals that were only around during the daytime.

When Kars had you, he would have you read to him as you sat in his lap or as he read aloud one of Esidisi’s poems. Shamelessly stealing his partner’s thunder in that regard. Many of his scrolls were in languages that you couldn’t read and he would translate for you, so that you might learn some of the wisdom they had gathered over centuries.

At your master’s suggestion you had also taken to learning more intimate practices from them. Wamuu didn’t have much to contribute there except second hand knowledge. You were his first as he was yours.

Esidisi had more to add, and in a stolen moment of private time, he taught you the proper techniques of pleasing them, aided by your hamon breathing. It helped that he didn’t mind when you choked or the one time to actually gag and bit him. You could only marvel at his patience with you. Something both the other pillarman lacked as they disturbed you in several compromising positions repeatedly, at which point you threatened to get off and walk to shore come sunrise and finally you were allowed to finish.

They didn’t mention it directly, but Wamuu took great care to remind you he was always glad to help you ‘practice’ in any way.

You wrote down what you learned from them. The history of your people gaining a new chapter about the erotic arts that could be performed with hamon and the techniques to please your immortal lovers. Future generations might get some use out of them. You took care to keep these texts and illustrations separate though, as you didn’t want your history to end up burned and have your tribe labelled as obscene.

On the fifth night your husbands emerged after sundown and Kars perched himself on the bow of the ship without a word.

“What’s happened now..?” you asked worriedly. You could tell something was up, but it was safer to ask your companions first.

“The winds have not been in our favor this journey. We should have made it to Alexandria by now. It’ll be another day at least…” Wamuu explained. You knew this well, as you had been the one single handedly hoisting and lowering sails and steering the ship during the daytime. You could heal the blisters on your hands, but not the calluses that roughed up your palms and the pads of your fingers.

“The imperial vessel that departed from Rome will have travelled a different route and had a head start by a good 16 hours. It may have arrived already,” Esidisi agreed.

“He’ll be easier to find once we do reach our destination,” you tried to reassure them with a soft smile.

“We know, darling. It’s just that with what seems like the final leg of our journey approaching, we can’t help but grow restless,” Esidisi explained, flexing his fingers. “My joints are growing stiff. That’s always the first sign. The petrification of our flesh will set in about a week from now if we do not uncover the stone.”

The idea itself made you shudder. To slowly turn to stone while you were powerless to stop it.

“It won’t come to that,” you said with all the conviction you could muster. In the distance on the horizon you could see nothing, but Kars’ shifting gaze told you there were likely other ships and sandbank islands you passed.

“Your determination is admirable, dearest (Y/N). Thanks to you, we will soon have the stone at last,” Wamuu said, kissing your forehead.

Food was starting to run low on the ship too. You hadn’t really thought about it, but staying awake as much as you did had led to you eating more without even realizing it. You were also getting a slight cabin fever from sharing such close quarters. On the ship you were always within earshot, given their heightened senses and they never slept. Their presence didn’t make you feel anxious the way it once did, but a week without any sort of privacy was wearing you down.

“Maybe you could distract Kars from his worries a little while?” Esidisi suggested, kissing your cheek and taking over at the helm.

You approached the bow of the ship quietly, but Kars knew exactly where you were and what you and your other husbands had been saying.

“I don’t need your attempts at comforting me. I’ll be perfectly content once I have the stone…” he huffed once you were a few feet behind him, not bothering to look over his shoulder.

“Standing there won’t get us to Alexandria faster,” you pointed out.

“Neither will your creature comforts,” he responded, staring out across the dark ocean impassively. “I promise you, you will spend eternity in my arms as a goddess, but I can’t afford to lose my focus now,” he said, finally casting a look over his shoulder. “You should go take the antidote now. You have waited long enough. I don’t question your devotion.”

These words went through your chest more violently and painfully than having your wedding ring forced into your heart in the first place. Was he doubting himself? No, that was far too unlike Kars. He’d wanted you to keep the ring as a physical proof of his ownership of you, of your bond. You had plenty of other tokens now, but none as powerful as the one inside your heart. The one that would take your life in ten more days.

“I don’t need it,” you said, climbing the bow with him.

“Stop being petulant. There is no sense in carrying around poison in your heart.”

“Then why do you?!” you asked sharply, glaring at him. Before he could answer you jumped overboard. You couldn’t see the water’s surface, so you still ended up getting wet.

“What on earth are you doing?” Kars demanded.

“Helping!” you responded, grabbing a rope and focussing your energy as much as you could to solidify the water’s tension. You felt like Sisyphos pushing a boulder uphill, trying to pull the ship forward. Maybe it was fitting. A punishment for hubris thinking you knew better than a god. It kind of worked, much to your shock.

“(Y/N), stop this nonsense immediately!” Kars yelled, pulling at the other end of the rope to haul you back on board. You tried to keep pulling, but that tug of war game was never going to turn out in your favor and you ended back right where you started.

“I’m tired…” you complained, nearly in tears.

“Then go to sleep instead of wasting your energy trying to pull this ship like a stubborn mule!” Kars scolded.

“I’m tired of chasing that damned stone, Kars!” you clarified. “I know it’s important… That it’s the most important thing… It is to me too. How could it not be when it determines if we’ll have a future together, but… If we only have one month, I don’t want it to be dictated by the hunt for the red stone constantly… I want to be with you… I want us to be happy together in the time we have… I want you to look back and think of me fondly when I’m gone…”

Kars sputtered, expression flitting across his face in rapid succession, ranging from sorrow, sadness and pity, to pure unadulterated rage. He trapped you between his arms, gripping onto the railing of the ship so tightly it splintered in his grasp.

“I… love you… and I don’t fear dying as you do, but I fear eternity without you more than the sun itself…”

“Same difference,” you said, tears running down your cheeks. Gods, you hated arguing and arguing with Kars was the absolute worst. Why couldn’t you just scream and be angry? Why did you have to cry? “Death would be eternity without you. Of course I’m scared…”

“Which is precisely why we need the stone…” Kars hissed like you weren’t understanding. “I wouldn’t mind sleeping another thousand years. I’ve lived this long already! I could have gone to sleep after exterminating your wretched kin if you hadn’t made me love you, you naive beguiling witch…” he spat, the floorboards under his feet cracking as well now. “I can’t give you the life you deserve if I fail… One mistake and I’ll lose you forever… I already treasure you beyond what any poetry could describe. Don’t give me these tender moments to long for if I fail you…” he pleaded, and for the first time ever you heard his voice crack with grief and uncertainty.

You threw your arms around his neck and by now Wamuu and Esidisi had been hovering just behind you, ready to step in, but you waved them off.

With Santana Kars could be sure he was alive and safe somewhere. With you he didn’t have the same luxury.

“What did I just tell you not to do, you defiant little welp…?” he asked.

“I’m positive we both feel fucking awful and there are no fond memories to be made, so I can hold you as much as I want, you headstrong, ill tempered brute…” you answered, fisting a hand in his hair and standing on your tiptoes for a kiss. “You won’t fail me… Kars you are a god to me and I have absolute faith in you, no matter what…” you insisted.

He let out a long sigh, holding you against his chest.

“My glorious, foolish little sun… Come here...” he murmured. “I hadn’t intended to give you this so soon, but to know you have it would ease my mind greatly,” he said, bringing you back down into the hold with a lantern Esidisi had lit for you. “I have been working on this since the night you recovered the Aja your people had tried to keep from us,” he said, opening a box to reveal a small stone mask of smooth marble, with far more delicate features than the ones you had seen. At the center of the crown like headpiece across its forehead rested the Aja you had offered him so many nights ago. The mask was carved from the slab of marble he had ripped from the god’s throne in his rage.

“The stone is too small to be of any use to us, but you are smaller, more delicate, and your body is already receptive to the light of day,” he explained. “This mask shall grant you eternal life, without taking the sunlight from you or forcing you to feed on the life of others,” he explained, closing the box and putting it away. “The catch is that I haven’t tested it yet. Decidedly few human women have ever been subjected to the stone mask at all and the brain is a delicate organ,” he explained. “I wouldn’t wish for you to change. It is your kind and merciful nature that compelled me to fall for you. If you were made to be any less than the goddess you are right here and now it would be on par with killing you and I could never forgive myself,” he explained.

You could feel yourself trembling where you stood.

Kars was ruthless, cold and dare you say selfish in nearly all his endeavors. Yet here he offered you every single thing he had dreamt of for the tens of thousands of years he had been alive. The power he sought for himself, which he’d struggled, fought and killed for, and before it was even within his own grasp he was giving it to you.

“I love you,” you whispered, almost reverently. “And I trust you,” you assured him. “And when you’re ready I’m sure it will be perfect.”

It took a day longer than it should have to arrive in Alexandria, and the sun hadn’t set by the time you arrived. You couldn’t dock the boat alone and certainly not without arousing suspicion, so you lowered the sails and put an anchor out a mile or so out from the coast. Once the sun set you would walk to shore and deliver the scrolls to the library of Alexandria to preserve them and your husbands would find the emperor and claim the stone.

You would meet by the lighthouse come morning and with the stone they would become the pinnacle of creation.

“The time of ascension is almost upon us. Can you feel it, beloved?” Wamuu asked. He was in good spirits and it was a relief to see some glimmer of hope restored to them now that their goal was within reach.

“I can’t wait,” you agreed, gathering the scrolls you had dutifully copied.

“Once we conquer the sun, hamon will be of no consequence to us,” Kars said, watching you roll the parchment and stow them in a bag.

“Well then, maybe once you do, I’ll have something to teach you,” you offered. Kars startled by the idea and Esidisi and Wamuu laughed.

“I suppose that might be possible. Could you imagine, lord Kars? The three of us, hamon users! The fathers of the future hamon tribe!” Esidisi announced.

“Well, you’re not wrong. And I should like the future generations of hamon warriors to be raised to have some respect,” Kars agreed, planting a kiss on your lips. “The sun is setting, my shining dawn. When we meet again, the world will be at our feet,” he whispered. With a flourish he leapt from the hatch, diving into the water with barely a ripple to suggest it had been disturbed, as he shot like an arrow towards the shore.

Wamuu and Esidisi followed with the same divine grace and you led Aries to a small lifeboat, which you could easily pull towards the shore while walking on water. You could see the lighthouse where you would meet at the end of the night and felt a thrill of anticipation.

The library lacked any sort of formal guards, but you received some strange looks when you entered. You were dressed like a wealthy roman woman and they were never unaccompanied, but no one made an effort to stop you. All around scholars were lighting candles to continue pouring over their texts into the night and you knew right away you would be here all night as well, less you were dragged out.

“I have come to submit these pieces to the library,” you said softly to a man behind a desk once you saw him welcome a returning patron.

The man quirked a brow at you, but gestured for you to present what you had brought.

“Family history? Trade records? Poetry?” he asked, thankfully speaking in Latin as well.

“Transcripts on combat and historic records of a tribe that was recently vanquished by the wrath of gods,” you explained, using the most official sounding phrases you could come up with on the spot. The man’s mouth dropped open, but he clacked it shut just as quickly and started unrolling some of the scrolls you had brought.

“These… wouldn’t happen to be from the hamon tribe, would they?” he asked, eyes flying over the parchment as he spoke.

“Yes!” you said, glad he was taking an interest in them. At least you knew the scrolls would be in safe hands and your history would be preserved. Now that your husbands were about to claim the stone, the task had lost its urgency somewhat, but you were thankful to know you were not alone in saving the legacy of your people. News of their demise must have traveled faster than you realized if the scholars of Egypt already knew.

“I had someone… show in interest in such texts… just today…” the man said, plucking at his beard as he spoke and scanned the text. “I will go fetch someone to bring these into our collection officially. Please hold on to them while I do, my good lady,” he said, rushing off and leaving you alone with the scrolls. You tucked them back in your bag with a grin and started browsing different texts to pass the time. Most were in languages you didn’t know and even fewer were very interesting, but in a collection of this size that made sense. You knew you’d spend more time browsing than actually reading, but if you would actually be reading, but if you would soon have eternity to wander around whatever library you pleased, it didn’t matter.

You felt a tap on your shoulder and turned around expecting the old scholar, but who you saw instead nearly had you leaping into the shelf with a loud yelp. Standing there with her beaming smile that crinkled the corners of her eyes and dimpled her cheeks was your older sister. With another cry of joy and relief you fell into her arms, hugging her with a vice like grip.

You’d feared you’d never see her again. Of all the people in your tribe, she and her daughters were the only ones whom you missed and longed for every single day. You’d prayed for her safety to your godly husbands and whatever ethereal gods might still reside in the skies above, and your prayers were answered!

Now as everything was about to fall into place, fate had brought you back together!

“Oh, my sweet mayflower…” she whispered, cupping your cheek and wiping away tears of joy, even as she began to cry as well. “I’ve been so scared for you… I never should have let them send you away. I never… Oh, but you survived and I’m so glad I get to see you again!” she whispered. “And you saved us… That brute who came to…” she sobbed, wiping her face of tears. You couldn’t help but laugh. Clearly your sister would need some time to get used to her new in-laws.

“When he had us exiled, a few others knew something was off… We’re not alone, sweetheart,” she said, proudly hauling the bag of scrolls over her shoulder and taking your hands.

“W-Wait, what? There’s more who survived?” you asked, the implications of that not yet sinking in through the veil of elation. Whatever made your sister happy would make you happy and Kars did say hamon would soon be nothing to them. You might really have it all now. Both halves of your family forever, you thought until the overjoyed smile your sister wore perked into a full on smirk.

“Quite a few! We warned the emperor before he departed when someone saw you questioning jewelers in the capital,” she laughed, pulling you closer into a hug once more. “Those wretched creatures will never have their stone. Come on, (Y/N). Time to go home to our tribe!”

#JJBA #JoJo's Bizarre Adventure #jojo's bizzare adventure x reader #jjba wamuu #wamuu x reader #kars jojo #kars x reader #esidisi #esidisi x reader #sfw #chapter 4

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