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hongism · 4 years

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mists of celeste ➻ ten

➻ pairing: ??? x fem reader ➻ genre: space au, pirate au, space pirate!ateez, angst, eventual smut ➻ Word Count: 4.9k ➻ Rating: M ➻ Warnings: language, violence, guns and weaponry, blood, future warnings tba ➻ summary: Sneaking aboard the ship of a renowned space pirate may not have been the best idea, but you’ll have to make do with what fate has handed to you

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mists of celeste act one ➻ part ten

The water is cold under your bare feet. The red moon cascades dark light over the lake, and you glance around in search of your typical companion. The water swirls around your ankles as you wade through it, moving closer to the shore. Daichi is at the edge again, squatted down on the rocks. He prods at the pebbles beneath the water with his fingers. As you get closer to him, you see that he’s drawing small patterns in them. They are familiar ones, the same design that lines the skin along your spine. You bring a hand to the back of your neck just at the thought of them.

“You messed up,” Daichi says once you’re within a couple feet of him. A frown comes to your lips. “You used your abilities. In front of many people. You could have been caught, Umiko. Do you not realize that?”

“I do.”

“Then what were you thinking? Have you grown to be that careless?”

You don’t answer the man; instead, you turn away from him to squeeze your eyes shut and try to reign in the anger that bubbles in your gut.

“Do you wish to be caught? Should the military take you back and use you as a siphon? Why be careless now, Umiko? For what? For lives that don’t matter?”

You spin on your heel and kick up some of the black water. It smacks Daichi across the eyes. He flinches away from the attack but doesn’t make much of an effort to block it. He wipes the water away from his face.

A moment later, you find yourself flat on your back in the water. Daichi hasn’t budged an inch, and you know that he’s using his own powers to attack you. You pull yourself up, clothes weighed down by the water, and lunge towards Daichi. He doesn’t even lift a finger to send you crashing to the water again.

“You are careless and juvenile. Too much is slipping through, and you are allowing it. You must hide your markings. You will be caught if you don’t. You are already dangerously close to exposing yourself. Whether you want to face it or not, there is a Siren nearby. You must acknowledge it and guard yourself properly against him.”

“Busy?”

The voice drags you out of the reverie, and you lurch forward as you pull yourself out of the dreamscape. You blink at the scene before you, the black landscape of space looming before you without end. You hadn’t even realized that you let yourself slip into the dreamscape while awake. The man who spoke comes up on your right.

“You’re up!” You exhale, surprise in your tone as you look at the man who smiles like a Cheshire back at you. You haven’t seen him since Yunho carried his scarily limp body off the transport ship. It’s a vague memory, especially since your body was still overrun by the adrenaline in your system. You do remember trying to follow Yunho only to be stopped by Jongho. The Berserker had told you to head back to your room and get some rest while Yunho worked his magic, and you had no choice but to do just that.

“Yea, none the worse for wear,” San laughs out. He scratches at the back of his neck. “Slept for three days straight though. I’m mildly impressed with myself. Almost pulled a you there.” He sends a cheeky wink your way. You scoff at his remark, reaching over to punch his bicep. “Ouch! Hey! Go easy on the goods. I’m still fragile.”

“Oh, quit whining. If you have enough energy to make fun of me, I can hit you.” You roll your eyes before looking back out into space. “What was Yunho’s verdict?”

“Overexertion,” San answers with a sigh. “Using my powers too much in a short period of time. I’m good to move around but I should avoid things that could be taxing. Which means no sex.”

“Oh, you poor thing.” Your elbow finds San’s side as you utter the half-hearted reply. He whines at the impact. “Don’t complain too much or you’ll overexert yourself again.”

“Wow, ouch. I am physically hurt by your words. I cannot believe you would turn your back on me like this when I’m having such a rough time. The ultimate betrayal truly.” San places his hand over his chest, grasping the material of his shirt as he pretends to double over in pain. You award him with a slight glare. It’s enough to cause him to relent and stand up straight, looking out the window as you do.

You’re on the bridge for once. You try to make a point of avoiding the bridge simply because you don’t want to run into Hongjoong, and the captain spends all of his time here so it’s hard to avoid someone like that. You don’t have a choice today; Seonghwa asked that you come to the bridge first thing because Hongjoong wanted to see you. Of course, Hongjoong had to be busy with something right when you came to the bridge, thus here you are now waiting for said man to just hurry the fuck up and get this over with.

“I hate space with a passion,” you mutter after a few moments of just looking out into the vast emptiness.

“You picked a bad line of work then.” You release a laugh, bringing your arms up to cross over your chest.

“Maybe I did.”

“Why do you hate space so much?”

“It’s too big. Empty but at the same time full. So many unknowns out there.”

“Well, there are a lot of knowns as well,” San argues. “It isn’t all bad, is it? There’s a lot of beauty to space, even if you can’t always see it. Like an oyster or a geode. You can’t see the beauty on the outside, but the deeper you go, the more beauty you see. No?”

“I suppose you’re right,” you mutter. You drag your tongue over the front of your teeth, saying nothing more, but San doesn’t seem too bothered.

“It’s a bit ironic for you to hate space yet spend so much time in it.”

“I didn’t have much of a choice. Didn’t have any choice at all really.”

San laughs in response to your comment even though nothing about what you said is amusing in the slightest.

“I understand that feeling all too well.”

You neglect to reply. Something about his words and the tone lingering in them reminds you of what Yeosang had mentioned during the mission.

“San chose what he is, and he chose to be a weapon. He chose what he is on the crew for one very clear reason. It’s all because that’s how San views himself.”

You want to pry and ask San about it yourself, hear it come from his lips and not Yeosang’s, but you hesitate for too long. A door slides open behind the two of you, and you glance over your shoulder to see Seonghwa stepping out of the captain’s cabin.

“Hongjoong is ready to see you both,” he says in a flat tone. You turn to San unaware that he would be joining you in meeting with Hongjoong. It makes you feel mildly better about this situation because at least you won’t be alone with Hongjoong and Seonghwa. “Follow me.” Seonghwa leads the way back into Hongjoong’s room. You follow first, San close on your heels.

The platinum-haired captain is the first thing you see when you enter the room. Then, a large desk covered in papers left and right. Some are maps, others seem like trade agreements, news articles, everything you can think of is splayed before him on the wooden desk. He lifts his head as Seonghwa brings you and San in.

“Did Mingi and Yeosang conclude the trade deals for the cargo yet?” Hongjoong asks, obviously talking to Seonghwa rather than you or San.

“They are still in the midst of collecting signatures and papers.”

As your gaze darts around the cabin, you notice how similar the structure of the room is to the other ship you were aboard not too long ago. You remember the missing bundle of papers all of a sudden, recalling that you misplaced them sometime after being brought to Yunho.

I should drop by and see if he has them. If he didn’t just give them to Hongjoong or Seonghwa already. Would he do that? I don’t have enough reasons to trust that he wouldn’t. Fuck, I should have never gotten caught. Shouldn’t have gotten shot in the first place either. Fucking careless and sloppy.

“Ah, good. The two of you are here.” Hongjoong sighs and drops the papers in his hand as he sees you and San step out from behind Seonghwa’s back.

You shift your weight from foot to foot. A sudden wave of anxiety washes over you. San seems to be in the same predicament; he picks at the skin around his fingernails while looking at the floor. Something about the way the two of you are lined up before Hongjoong makes you feel like a child again, being lectured by your teacher for misbehaving in class. Except this time, it’s far different than that. You stand before a dangerous criminal and pirate who could kill you in the blink of an eye should he not like your response to whatever he asks.

“San. What happened on the mission?”

San lifts his chin to look over at the captain, eyes gaining a bit more confidence as he begins to speak.

“I failed to keep my emotions in check and let Yeosang’s words get in my head.”

“Did you talk to Yunho about it?”

“He tried to help but there wasn’t much he could say or do to help.”

“Yunho isn’t a miracle worker,” Seonghwa cuts in, moving to the side of Hongjoong’s desk. He folds his arms behind his back and stands straight as can be. “He can fix the physical but not the mental.”

“I’m well aware of that, Seonghwa,” Hongjoong mutters back without looking at the Lieutenant. “However, Yunho is more in tune with his emotions than the others. People like that know how to talk to people. San, what is your opinion on the mission and the outcome of it?”

San purses his lips, looking down at the floor now. He takes a deep breath before beginning to talk again, this time in a much quieter tone.

“My own emotions were the cause for the failure of the mission. I should have stayed focused, and it is my fault that the outcome turned out the way it did. There is no one else to blame for it, and I fully acknowledge that. So, I apologize to both you and Lieutenant, Captain.” San pauses and turns to you now, eyes full of regret as he looks at you. “I’m sorry to you as well for my behavior and causing the mission to be a failure due to my actions.”

You open your mouth to respond, to tell him that there’s no need to apologize, just to reassure him maybe. You don’t get the chance to say anything though, because Hongjoong cuts in with another question.

“What happened after the mission?”

“I expended too much stamina using my powers and because of that, I overexerted myself. Passed out from the exhaustion.”

“And why do you consider the mission to be a failure?”

“It was supposed to be a covert mission. Get in and get out without being seen or heard.”

“Did you get what I wanted?”

“Yes, Captain.”

“What did the military on Medra have to report about the situation?”

San looks a bit startled by the question, jaw stuttering as he fumbles to come up with a response. Seonghwa pulls a tablet off Hongjoong’s desk and scrolls around on it for a bit before answering Hongjoong’s question.

“Medra reported a single dangerous criminal, highly trained and dangerous. One who was able to dispatch a unit of soldiers with ease, but one and only one criminal. Used a sniper rifle, pistol, and a knife to kill the soldiers.”

You listen on with a growing pit in your stomach. The more Seonghwa speaks, the more the report sounds like it is you who Medra reported. And if Medra reported you and your identity, then Hongjoong could get rid of you in the blink of an eye. You wouldn’t even get the chance to find your damn papers.

“That one criminal being Levi Tatsumaki, who has already been detained, brought into custody, and sentenced to death for larceny and murder.”

You nearly exhale a sigh of relief. Hongjoong grins at you and San.

“The mission went fine. Yes, your actions got you caught. However, you got the job done and removed a competitor in the process.”

You glance over at San, and his lips are curling down into a scowl. He doesn’t seem pleased in the slightest with Hongjoong’s words. Part of you thinks that he was hoping for Hongjoong to tear him down and ridicule him.

“I’m proud of you, San,” Hongjoong says. There is an uncharacteristic gentleness in Hongjoong’s tone. The cruel and almost evil exterior seems to melt away, revealing genuine concern for San’s wellbeing. “You shouldn’t be so hard on yourself. If I were upset with your behavior and how you handled the situation, we would not be having this conversation. You are well aware of that.”

San nods along with Hongjoong’s words but doesn’t provide any further comment. The captain watches him in silence for a few moments before speaking again.

“You’re dismissed, San.”

The Spectre turns around without any hesitation, following the order with haste, and you opt to watch him walk out until the door slides shut behind his retreating figure.

“Now for you,” Hongjoong says. The warmth he had in his tone with San dissipates, leaving it cold and harsh again. “What is your opinion of the mission?”

“It was just fine,” you say as you attempt to keep your tone flat. “I’m not sure what you want to hear from me.”

“Why did you disobey Yeosang’s orders?”

“I saw an opportunity and took it.”

“Why?” Hongjoong presses further. You tilt your head to the side ever so slightly.

“It was an opportunity. Nothing more,” you reiterate.

“People don’t consider things to be an opportunity unless they see a good outcome to it,” Hongjoong says. He pushes back from his desk and stands up. In a few quick strides, he wraps around the wood and comes to a halt in front of it. Arms come to rest over his chest, and he leans against the lip of the desk while staring at you. “So what was the good outcome you saw in it?”

“I’m not sure what you mean.” You shake your head. “There was nothing to it. I just took the chance.”

“What did you think would happen after you took that chance?”

“I-I don’t know. I wasn’t thinking about that. My… my first instinct was to shoot and kill. That’s what I did.”

“I wonder if that’s what you did with the king as well?” Hongjoong’s tone trails off into inquiry, and he mirrors the tilt of your chin. “But it can’t have been. Nobody ever just takes those chances. They see something in them. I think I have you figured out, Y/N L/N. Even if you don’t want to admit it outright, your first instinct was to protect. You heard that San was in danger, you felt the need to protect him, and you felt the need to repay him for what he did to save you initially. Thus, you wanted to save him. Removing the obstacles in your way was the first step: Yeosang’s orders, the physical distance, the soldiers in your path. You may not want to hear it or admit it, but that is the reason for your actions.”

The man smirks at you as he finishes his crude analysis of your behavior. You straighten your head again, glaring at him with such intensity that Seonghwa takes a step in your direction. Hongjoong lifts a hand to stop him though. He nods his head ever so slightly in your direction as though prompting you to speak your mind.

“You shouldn’t act like you know me because you don’t,” you spit out with vehemence to your tone. “You don’t know anything about me.”

“You’re wrong.” Hongjoong drops his chin as he chuckles. “I know one thing for certain. You are not an Elitist.”

The words cause you to freeze immediately. You feel all color leave your cheeks as your heart plummets, and you think that Daichi was right all along. Your attempts to stay calm and collected go out the window at Hongjoong’s accusation.

“You have a clever method of concealing yourself.”

You bite down so hard on your tongue that it draws blood.

“I’m not exactly sure what you are yet,” Hongjoong says as he brings his chin back up. The words bring immediate relief to your racing heart, and you try not to place a hand over your chest. “For certain, you are not an Elitist.”

“Why do you think that?” You ask in as stable a tone as you can manage.

“I have studied Elitists in the past, and I am one myself. I should know how my own kind behaves by now. They make decisions with their head and only their head. Follow orders they deem fair and necessary. They do not act on impulse and are calm and calculating. You seem to make decisions with your heart, act on impulse, lack a sense of calm, and do not follow orders.”

“That’s false logic. Every single person here is a criminal. Yeosang is a traitor, albeit a loyal one, but still branded a traitor nonetheless. Which one of you has ever followed orders in the past?”

“I specified fair and necessary orders. If you were truly an Elitist, you would’ve seen Yeosang’s reasoning in asking you to stay on the cliffside. If you were only thinking with logic, you would’ve followed his orders. However, you deemed it unimportant because you saw that you had an opportunity to repay a debt. That is all beside the point though. The real reason I wanted you here is because I need to know what you want to be on the crew. You have the same choice that every other person on this crew has had.”

“According to the military, I am a weapon. Don’t you view me in the same light?”

“This isn’t the military, Y/N. You have a choice.”

“I don’t want one. Decide what you need me to do yourself. You obviously view me as a tool to be used, and I am willing to be that weapon until you don’t see any further use for me. Or you can dump me out the airlock now. Or leave me on some planet. Pick your poison.”

“If you are so willing to chuck your life away without a care, why didn’t you just turn yourself in?” Hongjoong asks all of a sudden. “Yeosang mentioned that you told him you have no more goals in life. Either you’re lying to cover for something or you truly don’t care about your life. What’s your game? You could’ve been dead and gone already.”

“That would’ve made me a martyr. That’s not how I want to be remembered. That’s not what I wanted.”

“How do you want to be remembered then?”

“I don’t want to be remembered at all,” you utter. Your tone falls to a hush without you intending for it to, and Hongjoong’s gaze almost softens as he glares at you.

“So you’re running then. Interesting.” He pushes off the desk and drops his arms to his side. You blink at him with question in your eyes. “Very well then. I will have you be a weapon for me if that is how you wish to be treated. You’re dismissed.”

You offer a nod in response before turning around to head out of the office. Neither Seonghwa or Hongjoong say anything else. The door slides shut behind you. You hesitate there for a moment, mulling over what Hongjoong said to you before making your way to the med bay.

I have to get those papers and get out of here as soon as possible. It’s only going to get more dangerous as time goes on, and I can’t risk any of these people figuring out more than they already know.

Your knuckles rap against the cold metal of the med bay door. You have fingerprint access to the room, but it still feels awkward barging into rooms left and right without warning.

“Come in!” Yunho’s warm voice welcomes you in, and you tap at the keypad before stepping into the cool interior of the med bay. “Oh! Y/N, I’m glad to see you.”

He grins from ear to ear as he sees who you are. You return the gesture with a small smile of your own but can’t keep your eyes from darting around the room to see if you can find any sign of your papers.

“I’m really happy to see you up and moving alright. I heard you still managed to handle things with relative ease during your mission.”

“I did, yea. B-But that’s not why I’m here.”

“Oh, of course! Do you need a checkup on your arm? I think those stitches should be ready to come out by now.”

It isn’t the reason for your visit at all, but you’ll go along with it for now. At least until you find what you’re looking for, that is. You seat yourself on the edge of one of the white beds and hold out your arm for Yunho. He takes hold of your wrist, pushing your sleeve up with a gentle touch that causes goosebumps to ghost over your skin. He tugs at the white gauze around your healing wound until it comes completely loose.

“Look at that. Ready to come out as I thought. Do you want me to go ahead and take them out? You can let them dissolve over time if you’d rather.”

“No, no. It’s okay, go ahead!” You motion towards your arm. As Yunho turns around and searches for some supplies, you blink around the room with a darting gaze. Even when he returns to you and starts pulling the stitches loose, you continue to look around.

“Is everything alright?” Yunho asks after a moment. You bring your gaze back to him. His lips are pressed into a delicate frown, and there’s a gleam of concern in his dark eyes. You push it aside with a small grin.

“I just can’t watch you pull them out. Makes me queasy.”

“I can make some small talk if you’d like?”

“Sure…” Your disinterest shows in your tone, however, and Yunho gives up on the attempts to talk with you. He pulls back from your arm.

“You’re free to go. Just don’t go picking at that wound anymore. I don’t wanna have to stick you with more needles.” Yunho winks as he looks at you out the corner of his eye.

“Wait!” You call out when he turns away from the bed. Yunho glances back at you, expectancy in his expression. “Did you – um, did you find anything on me when I first came in? With San, I mean? No, on me. But when I came in with San.”

Yunho tilts his head a bit and frowns at the ceiling.

“I don’t think so?”

“Are you certain?”

“I don’t remember seeing anything.”

“Nothing at all?” You continue to pry. Disbelief crawls into your tone. “A bundle of papers maybe? Tied around the middle?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Y/N. Honestly and truly.”

“Are you sure you just aren’t remembering wrong? Or lying to me? Those papers are really important to me. Did you give them to Hongjoong?” Yunho’s jaw stutters at your accusations, and he releases a huff of air.

“I don’t doubt that they’re important, Y/N. Really I don’t. But I just do not know what you’re talking about. I saw nothing on you when you came in. And if it was something that belonged to you, I wouldn’t take it or give it to Hongjoong. I’m not that kind of person. I thought I’ve made that moderately clear by now, but maybe I haven’t. Whatever was on you wasn’t my main focus. It was treating your wound. I’m sorry.”

If you were in a clearer state of mind, you would not get so blindly upset with him like you are now. However, you aren’t thinking straight and all your brain can think about is the possibility of Hongjoong having ownership of those papers. Without a name to them, anyone can claim them, and it isn’t your intention to let the most notorious criminal in the universe have free pardon papers. You push up from the med bed and exit without saying anything else to Yunho. You’re certain that regret will bubble in your gut later, but right now all you can think about is going straight to your room and figuring out a plan of action in private.

You tap furiously at the keypad outside your door in your haste. It slides open with a whoosh. You aren’t expecting to find anything inside except for an empty room, let alone someone sitting on the edge of your bed. But there San is on the edge of your bed with a trembling knee and picking at the skin around his fingernails. When you step inside, he all but jumps to his feet.

“I’m sorry for intruding!” He says immediately before you can ask why he’s here.

“Do you need something?” You inquire, letting the door slide shut behind you. The lights flicker on when you hit the switch, San almost invisible in the darkness. He opens and shuts his mouth a few times. No words leave him for a moment, then he reaches into his jacket and pulls something out. You lunge forward to snatch the item from his hand before you can think twice. It’s your bundle of papers. The full pardon back in your hands. A laugh of disbelief escapes your lungs.

“I-I’m sorry for taking them,” San says as you look over the bundle. “I should’ve have taken them, and I know that. I was just worried that Hongjoong or Seonghwa would find them. Or worse, Yeosang. They must be important to you for you to have gotten shot for them so I… I tried my best to hide them. I wanted to give them back to you sooner but things just kept happening and I couldn’t get a moment alone with you without someone stopping me. The timing never worked out right, I guess. But I wanted to get them back to you now.”

You drag your thumb over the front of the papers.

“These are my ticket to freedom,” you mutter.

“They’re pardon papers, aren’t they?” San asks, standing across from you. “Meant for you, I take it? I-Is – do you – do you want to return to the military then?”

“Absolutely not,” you deny in a heartbeat. Pulling your eyes up to meet San’s, you can’t keep a smile from overtaking your lips.

“O-Oh. I just – sorry, I just assumed that you want to be pardoned. Um… they – no, nevermind. It’s not important.” San shakes his head. The beginnings of a blush are crawling up his neck and cheeks. Without thinking twice, you reach forward and pull San into a tight hug. You squeeze him against your body, arms folded around his neck. The action catches San off guard for certain, and he flails a little before hugging you back albeit with a lot more hesitation. “You seem really happy,” he says against your ear. You unravel your arms from San and step back to look down at the bundle once more.

“They aren’t for me actually,” you admit. “They’re for someone important and special to me. I finally get to free him.”

“That’s a lot of effort for one person,” San murmurs through a melancholy smile.

“This one person is worth ten thousand. He’s worth any amount of effort in the universe. Thank you, San. I-I – you didn’t have to do that but you did.”

“It’s nothing. Don’t think too hard about it.” San heaves a deep sigh. “I’m just glad I could help in some way.”

“Well, you’ve helped me more than once now. I’m… I didn’t expect that from anyone aboard this ship.” San’s embarrassment melts away at your words. That cheeky smile returns to his lips, and he teases the corner of his mouth with his tongue.

“You could repay me then,” he suggests, sending a teasing wink your way. You blink back in confusion. “A kiss maybe?” You immediately roll your eyes at his remark, swinging an arm at his. He whines when you hit him, falling back as though you hit him with an insane amount of force. You steady him with the same arm and dip in before he can recover. You brush your lips over his cheek. He freezes under your touch within an instant. Red soars up his neck and cheeks.

“There. Maybe next time you can get one on the lips.”

✧✧✧

a/n: here we are at the end of act one!!! one down, fourteen to go 🤡 but anyways! what did you think of the conclusion to this arc? what’s been your fav part so far? your fav character? just tell me anything and everything! i love seeing your feedback and interaction with this story and i’m so excited to share more of it with you guys!

taglist: @faeriewoobin @sugarrimajins @atinyinwonderland @2504-life @lil7bluedragon @sparklychangbin @jeong-uwu @jeonartemis

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This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.

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my-whumpy-little-heart · 4 years

Text

Persistence - 3

Third chapter of the untitled (now titled) pirate whump series!

Series Masterlist

Content warnings: creepy/intimate whumper, choking/strangulation, collar whump

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She could only hope and pray despite herself that Floyd was still aboard, that what she’d seen really had been wrong, but she knew that was just too good to be true.

(Golden Felucca, hours later)

He must have passed out. How and when, Floyd had no idea, but the lingering fatigue suggested it hadn’t lasted nearly as long as he needed. His neck was stiff from leaning against his arm, and his wrists and shoulders already ached from being shackled above his head.

He stretched his hands, stiff as if they’d been left out in the cold. Pain prickled through them with each movement but it got more bearable the longer he tried.

It only took a few minutes for the fear and panic to seep back in and replace the numbness of slumber. Floyd was still in Percival’s clutches. He’d been here for hours with no sign of his own crew. He’d surely traveled far from his original location by now, and whether or not they were in pursuit was still to be seen.

With the iron shackles still secure around his wrists, Floyd could only observe the small room he’d been shoved into and prepare himself for an opportunity to escape, whenever that would arise.

The more he noticed about the room, though, the more frightened he became. Along with the chains and metal loops scattered about, there was a table just a few meters away from him with leather straps dangling off the side and a multitude of metal implements on it he couldn’t quite make out from the floor. He tried his best to explain it away--a workbench, it could be a workbench--but he couldn’t ignore sinking feeling in his stomach.

Floyd had no more time to dwell on the issue once the door slammed open. He flinched away in shock and a scream made it halfway to his lips before he locked it down, instead fixing wide eyes on the man making his entrance. Percival, in turn, peered down with a cold stare, only his bright eyes betraying his amusement. He stalked over in three large strides and crouched down to eye level.

“Sleep well?” The lilt in his voice was far too cheerful for the dismal air of the cell. He could obviously tell how the uncomfortable rest had affected Floyd, and must have found some sick kind of satisfaction in teasing him over it.

“No. Not really.” He meant to be casual, but the words came out tight from the back of his throat. At least he was being honest, but it wasn’t as if his bloodshot eyes and fatigue put him in any position to tell a suitable lie. The captain fixed a stare on him for a few seconds before he nodded, clicking his tongue.

“Ah, a shame. You’re really going to need your strength today,” Percival smiled, and Floyd went rigid. Memories of hard labor and overwhelming exhaustion from so many years past flooded his mind, still so fresh after all his efforts to bury them. If he needed to save his strength then he was going to be worked hard, paid little, so so hungry- never again. He couldn’t take that again.

But when Percival went to detach his shackles from the wall, he walked his captive to the other side of the room, away from the door, nearing what was very clearly not a workbench now that Floyd caught a glimpse of the dark stains on its surface. He couldn’t be used for labor in here, so...

His captor guided him to a spot near the wall with a firm hand on his shoulder and pushed him down to his knees. Floyd knelt dazedly with his hips resting on his heels, trying to figure out what Percival wanted. At the same time, though, his eyes flitted over to the door. The room was only about three times his height across, the door was unlocked, but the ship after that was another matter.

Oh. The ship. Damn it all, he was on a ship! How did he expect to escape? Jump off the side and drown?! Tears welled up as frustration, despair, and helplessness all reached a breaking point, and threatened to spill when Percival crouched down in front of him. He turned his wet lashes to the floor to avoid the fiery gaze looking down at him, holding far too much pity for a kidnapper.

“Oh come on, what’s that look for? You aren’t even hurting yet, dear.” he laughed. Floyd refused to even look at him, trying so hard to ignore the sharp pang in his chest and corresponding hiccup in his breath at Percival’s blunt word choice. He knew full well that his emotional dam would break with the slightest pressure and he couldn’t lose his composure yet when there was surely worse to come. So when Percival held an item out to him, he let his eyes unfocus and ignore it.

Something long and fairly thin dangled there for several long seconds, expectantly. Floyd didn’t dare raise a hand to take it.

“Well, don’t say I never let you choose, then.” Percival shrugged, leaning closer. “If I put it on too tight, please do tell me.”

A hand caught the underside of his chin, pushing to tilt it up. Floyd leaned away, raising his shackled hands on instinct. His fingers barely brushed against his captor’s arm before a rough grip took his wrists and slammed them into the floor. Percival’s knee landed on the chain between them, pinning them there.

A gasped sob escaped as he grasped Floyd’s jaw, firmly this time, jerking it up and slid the band around his neck. It cinched tightly and Floyd realized far too late that he was being collared. It tightened, pinching skin and pressing metal rings hard into his neck until it sat comfortably and made its presence known with every breath. Then Percival sat back, the collar remained, and Floyd could only struggle mindlessly against what had already been done. A hand buried itself in his hair, pulling back and knocking his head into the wall, a splitting pain stopping his movements and drawing the tears from his eyes.

He heard muffled commentary—something chilling about being more complacent, enduring future discipline, training—amid the ringing in his ears before Percival stepped behind him. Floyd craned his neck to see what he was doing, but Percival forced him to look forward with a hand in his hair, and he had no choice but to do so with a small, strangled noise of pain.

There was a sharp tug on the loop at the back of his neck before some kind of metal clasp clicked shut, pulling up on the collar. Floyd imagined that it must be a leash and immediately wished he hadn’t made that connection at all as his breath hitched with a repressed sob. Then he was gagging when the collar slid up under his chin, having nowhere left to go but into his windpipe, and pulled until it blocked his breath completely.

Floyd knelt up as far as he could and gasped before the leash caught up to him again. This time, it was left just loose enough to breathe if he raised his chin and broadened his shoulders. He reached up to adjust the collar where it bit painfully into his skin, but Percival was back in front of him, pulling his arms down again.

“If you can’t keep everything where it’s supposed to be then you’re only going to make this worse for yourself,” he chided, swiftly detaching the chain and binding Floyd’s arms behind his back instead. He stopped, seeming to reconsider his previous statement as he assessed his captive. “...not that I would mind, of course, but I've found that an easier start is often appreciated.”

Floyd so desperately wanted to shrink away at those words, but the bindings kept his shoulders back in pristine posture, and the collar held his head high through the degradation. He could do nothing but flinch as Percival leaned closer, smoothing a hand over his neck, touching his skittering pulse, and sliding across the stubble on his chin, leaving an involuntary shiver in his wake. Gently, reverently, he wiped drying tear stains with the pad of his thumb.

“How does it feel? The collar, I mean,” Percival asked, other hand almost absentmindedly resting on Floyd’s shoulder.

“I-it’s tight,” he stammered back through a cough, voice hoarse, “and it’s hard to, hard to breathe. You know, with the l- the- holding it up-” That earned a deep laugh from Percival, the hand on his cheek moving down to cup it in the perverse imitation of a lover.

“I’m glad, I really am. And don’t be afraid to say what these really are. Your collar, your leash... treasure them, sweetheart, because they’re the only things you’ll be able to call your own here. Now just wait until you’re good enough to go out on a walk…” Seeing Floyd’s horror, he seemed to backtrack. “...but I’m getting ahead of myself. After all, work comes first. Then play.”

“I-I, I don’t-”

“Ah-ah, shhh…” He pressed a finger to the lips he’d interrupted, voice turning dark, “I’d save my breath if I were you. While I’m out leading my crew today, you’re going to be in here strung up just like so. And I expect you to be fully conscious when I get back, or there will be consequences. Am I understood?”

“Yes. Yes, you are.” Floyd’s voice shook.

“Wonderful. Well, until then. Make me proud, buttercup.”

The door shut, and the waiting game began.

Next part

————————————

Tag list: @whump-tr0pes, @burtlederp, and @castielamigos-whump-side-blog (If I forgot someone or you would like to be added or removed, please let me know)

#whump #mine #pirate whump #Benedict Floyd #Percival #held captive #creepy captor #choking #collar #collar whump #shackled #here we gooo #it only goes downhill from here kiddos #Percival is developing his own voice in my head and right now I kinda hate him for calling Floyd “buttercup”#Persistence

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shesneverleavingme · 5 years

Text

You, Me, and the Other Me

Pricefield Week Day Two: Pirates/Partners

I went back.

All the way back.

Back to when I knew I was leaving Chloe in a few days and hadn’t told her.

Back to only a couple of hours or so before Chloe would lose William and I, not knowing so myself, would feel the way my heart could drop out of my chest for the first time due to the loss of someone I loved.

I hugged William extra tight. I held onto him and let the feeling of his bear-hug across my shoulders seep into me like a weighted blanket. It felt just as bad sending William out to his doom as it did watching Chloe get hit by the train over and over...

Maybe I didn’t have to.

I had seen things change once, but maybe... Maybe... I could change them even more.

I told him to take the bus. He survived that way last time. He wasn’t able to resist my persistent yammering about the convenience or practicality of it. Then he was gone.

One down, one to go.

“Chloe,” I said. I turned to her and she met me with one raised blonde eyebrow.

“You’re acting really fucking weird,” Chloe said. She could barely wait until William was out of the house to unleash the swear words that were, ironically, the source of her college fund.

“Just listen to me,” I said. My mouth went dry. I looked at her and fidgeted before I reached out and took her hands in mine. “I’m... Chloe, my dad got a new job in Seattle, and I’m leaving in a few days.”

“Wait, wha—“

“Stop, just listen!” I demanded. My voice sounded frail and my fingers tightened against hers. She just needed to listen. She closed her mouth but looked frustrated and impatient. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I... I didn’t know how to get the words out. But I don’t have a lot of time and I need to get everything out now before it’s too late.” She rolled her eyes and I quickly started talking before she could. “I... I love you, Chloe.”

My heart was racing. I felt like my hands were going to sweat so much that hers would slip out of them without much prompting. She looked at me with a fleeting look of surprise and discomfort before she cleared her throat and shrugged. “I love you too, Max... But you know that. Best friends forever and shit, right?”

“No, Chloe, I...” Fuck. My face felt hot. “I mean... I like you, Chloe. I like-like you, more than a best friend, more than my Captain...”

Chloe looked at me with a slightly longer shocked expression. She looked down at our hands and, after a few seconds, glanced up at me before looking back down. “So... Like... Like-like me, huh...?” she muttered. I nodded and her thumbs slowly started to rub on the knuckles of my fingers. I watched her face, waiting for her to look back up at me, and the seconds were long before I was granted my wish. “So... If I... If I did something... You wouldn’t hate me, right...?” Chloe asked. The way her eyes flicked back and forth between mine made me nervous, and I was suddenly aware that I was doing it to her, too.

“Never...” I answered with a dry mouth.

And slowly, like in those cheesy romance movies, Chloe squeezed my hands a little tighter and then leaned in and kissed me.

I melted.

Maybe this time... Maybe this time it would work.

——————

The bus took too long.

As I came to and felt each bump of the bus tires beneath my seat, I realized that I was riding down the un-repaired streets of Arcadia Bay. There was a small suitcase in the seat next to me and my shoulder bag across my lap.

I ripped open the bag to look in my journal. Photos of me and Chloe were everywhere. Doodles and drawings constantly highlighted every mischievous smirk and glare that I had seen Chloe make a thousand times. Detailed accounts of us adventuring, getting into Blackwell, living our high school years, unfolded themselves in my messy scrawl. I had gone to Seattle over the long weekend to see my family because they said they missed me... I was coming home.

I looked out the window and, waiting at the bus stop, saw a familiar pirate hat and a tall, lanky, beautiful girl hunched over the bench and bouncing her knees impatiently. She saw the bus and stood before she shoved her hands in her pockets and leaned back a little.

I practically threw myself off the bus as soon as I could. “Chloe!” I exclaimed with relief. She stepped up to me and quickly scooped me into her arms. She nearly cleared me from the concrete and I let go of my suitcase in order to hold myself up. “What’s with the hat?” I asked. I expected to see blue hair and a beanie, but instead got blonde with one blue streak and a pirate hat. She chuckled as she pulled away.

“You’ve been gone so long I thought you might not recognize me without it,” she said. I rolled my eyes.

“It’s been three days,” I reminded her.

She shrugged and lifted her hand to the side of my face. Her fingers played with my hair. “Felt longer...” she grumbled. As her fingers pulled away, I saw the flash of pink in the corner of my eyes.

“Pink...?” I asked. I lifted my hand to my hair and pulled at the section Chloe had just played with.

She looked at me and her expression got a little grim. I looked at her and shot her a small, questioning eyebrow-raise in response. “Wha—“

“You’re not you anymore... Are you...?”

#max caulfield #life is strange #chloe price #pricefield #pricefieldweek

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writinglionqueen · 5 years

Text

Lego House

Summary: You and Finn just play with Legos. It’s fun. He let’s you do things not many people get to do with him.

Pairing: Finn Bálor x Reader

Word Count: 1925

Warnings: None. It’s all fluff.

Tag: @adriennegabriella @amariemoore @andie01 @artemisapalla316 @biforbecky2belts @br0th3r-n3r0 @burning-coco @calicina @calum-hoodwinked-me @calwitch @claymoreme @crossfitjesusinskinnyjeans @darlingambrose @demonkingsangel @demonqueen29 @desstehhnee @detectiveramen @finnsauroraborealis @fireyegale @fivefootxo @flawlessglamazon @homeorbust @i-have-saracasm @jazzy-tzw @kalliravenne @littledeadrottinghood @lolorockstar101boom @lovesweetpeaa @madamaholmes @meishaabae @mermaidqueen @mondaynightrollynch @moxleysbaby @moxtiel @neversatisfiedgirl @new-zealand-chic @nothinginlifebutgreif @reigns420 @sassymox @savemeroman @scuzmunkie @shieldgirl18 @softmoxymuffin @southsidebucky @superrezzy00 @taryn-dibiase @the-beastslayers-queen @thewrestlingwarehouse @theworldofotps @trashofambrolleigns @writing-reigns @writtingrose @xprincessofthefallenangels @yaint-me @youcantreignonmyparade

Special Thanks: @i-have-saracasm for helping me beta. She’s technically my person and saved beta by this point.

The times Finn is home with you….well they’re the best times for you. He was home. Being in his arms was its own kind of magic. One you cherished when he was home. Some of those times were filled with passion the two of you missed while he was gone. Filled with its own kind of oxymoron; soft but fast and hard but soft, all at once. Filled with curses and soft, sweet nothings also filled with promises and pleasure. And other times, it was filled with ease. Like when he was building his LEGOs. Something he did to keep his mind off of things. His own form of meditation. Your form of meditation was watching him craft things, following the instructions step by step to get to something cool, like a car or a pirate ship. Watching him put your own mind at ease. Which you found yourself doing now.

He was busy at the table, working on another set. Music playing quietly next to him on a playlist you knew he made for his time at home. Sometimes his tongue would peek out or he’d sigh and stretch out his sore limbs as he continued to build. He had been working for a while and was halfway done with this piece when you decided to sit next to him, leaning against his side to rest your head on his shoulder. He was quick to lay back against you for a second.

“This one looks cool,” you murmured, reaching for one of the minifigures, decked out like a pirate captain; sword, pirate hate, and eye patch. You pointed the minifigure at Finn. “Argh.” He let out a giggle.

“I think this will be even cooler when I finally finish it,” he murmured, turning the page to the instruction booklet. You reached for one of the little plastic pieces he needed to hand it to him.

“Here.”

“Thanks, baby,” he murmured to you. You bit your lip. It kinda looked fun to build things like this.

“Can I help? Or….is there one I can build with you. I’m bored.” You playfully whined the last part. He chuckled.

“There’s some in the room,” he said to you. “Pick any that you want.” You perked up at that.

“Really?” he asked, surprised. He nodded, looking away from the booklet.

“Yeah, go ahead babe.” You stood up and ran to the bedroom, finding a small stack of LEGO sets next to Finn’s suitcase. Out of all the ones he had, even the cool ones he received as gifts from the LEGO company, you picked a race car one. Like the ones from Nascar...it even came with a pit crew and extra tires. You smiled to yourself. If you finished it before Finn finished his, you could probably play with it. You took the box back to your spot beside Finn. You settled the box down before plopping back down yourself.

With curious eyes, Finn looked to see which set you decided to build with. He smiled at the car on the front.

“That ones a cool one,” he murmured.

“Yours looks cooler,” you argued back. Finn giggled.

“I don’t know, pirate ships and race cars are on the same level of coolness.” You nodded in agreement, knowing he was making his own little joke. You began opening up the box and the packets sorting the pieces so it wouldn’t be hard to find them later. Finn watched you curiously.

“What’cha doing?” he asked.

“Sorting,” you answered, simply, gesturing to the piles. “That way I won’t have to search for them as much and I’ll know if I’m missing one when I get to them.”

“Ooh, that’s a pro move.”

“Then why aren’t you doing that?” you giggled, teasing him. He giggled back.

“I guess I’m not much of a pro at this.”

“Nah, I think your pro enough.” Finn chuckled as he went back to his booklet as you opened yours to start building. You got the flow after the first several pieces were put into their places. It felt nice and peaceful to keep placing pieces, one after another until something started to form. “You know, this is nice,” you said to Finn. “It’s relaxing and you get to make something.” Finn chuckled in agreement.

“See why I like it so much,” he said back, placing another brown piece onto his pirate ship.

“Yeah, of course. I think it’s good to have something fun to get your mind to relax.” You turned to look at him. He was eyeing you with a small smile.

“You don’t think it’s childish at all?” You shook your head, a little confused by his question.

“No. It’s a you thing and...it’s fun. It’s not that childish. I actually think it’s fun. Why?”

“Some of my...exes thought it was kinda childish...which is why I’ve stopped building them so much.” You nodded. A memory of him saying that he had stopped building with LEGOs for a while popped up into your head. Not with the same excuse this time but he just the idea that he had...stopped. Now, he’s said his reason. The real one and you felt your chest clench in pain. “But when you got me the cool custom one, the one with me in it, for my birthday...it made me so happy. It...showed me you liked me being myself. LEGOs included.” He gave you a smile but you could see that it was a tiny smile. Some of the sadness seeping through his blue eyes.

“Baby...this is a you thing. You like this. There’s no reason why I wouldn’t want you to be yourself and do something you obvious like doing.” His smile grew as he turned away a little. “It’s kinda sucky that you’d have to...give up something you like doing because someone thought it was childish.” You saw him nod slowly. A change of subject was needed. “Also, this would be cool if these were motorized.” You held up the unfinished car. “A little remote control car. Get some more and you can race against others….that’d be cool.”

“That would be really cool,” Finn agreed. “I think they make remote control cars.”

“Ooh, really?” you asked. He nodded, giving you a brighter smile than before.

“Yeah….I can see if I can find you one.” You smiled at the suggestion.

“Now that’d be cool.”

“I’ll see what I can do.” He placed a few more pieces on his ship and you continued to build your car. The two of you kept on going in a comfortable silence. It felt nice. It felt like peace. And it felt like home. Ironically enough, the tune to “Lego House” by Ed Sheeran started to play as you sat next to your boyfriend. If he had noticed the song and the irony, he didn’t give it away.

The lyrics made you think and reflect on your relationship with Finn and how ideally perfect for the two of you. He had his things to do in life and you had yours. When the both of you worked together, it just felt nice and relaxing.

It didn’t take you long to finish the car with Finn still having a handful of pieces to place onto the pirate ship. While waiting, you rolled the car back and forth across the table. You grabbed the car and rolled it. Little car noises left your lips as you rolled the car as if it was in a race. Finn giggled.

“Gotta make a pit stop,” you hollered as you rolled the car close to the pit crew. Little shrieking noises left your lips as you attempted to sound like breaks.

“Pit stop!” Finn hollered back. You giggled back. Little whirring noises were next as you changed out the tires for a “fresh set.” Finn reached for his phone, turning the music off. But you paid him no mind as you started to move the car out of the “pit area.”

“And he’s back in the race!” You began routing the car across the table and over to Finn’s, now completed, pirate ship. “Oh no folks, there seems to be an obstacle in the course. It’s a pirate ship!” Finn giggled some before before he took the pirate captain in hand, wielding it in front of your race car.

“Argh,” Finn growled. “We have come for the booty. And we will not leave ‘til we get it.”

“There’s no booty. It’s only a race.”

“Yer land ship shall do instead.” Finn plucked the car from your fingers. You giggled as he sat the minifigure and your car on the table. Finn stood up to stretch and you couldn’t help but watch him as he groaned. He lifted his arms over his head. His shirt riding up a bit to show off a sliver of his lower stomach. You bit your lip as he reached a hand for you. “Wanna finish the rest of this night with a movie, darlin?” he asked. With a smile and a nod, you took his hand as he helped you from the table.

Quickly enough though, you found yourself in his arms, making you giggle. You were carried off to the living room and was settled on the couch, with you in Finn’s lap.

“Anything in particular?” he asked as he grabbed the remote and went to Netflix.

“Nope, whatever is fine,” you answered as he flipped through the movies and TV shows. Finn found one; something sweet and a little romantic to watch, if only just to relax the two of you into sleep. You settled yourself back into Finn’s firm chest, head on his shoulder as you watched the movie. Finn’s hand idly swept across your hip in slow circles, causing you to sigh. The warm peacefulness of this all drawing you into relaxation.

“You know, love...I’ve never built LEGOs with anyone else,” Finn murmured to you. The sudden statement surprised you. It caused your head to turn so you could look into his eyes. “I’ve never let anyone build with me...except for you.” You bit your lip at that, wondering why this was his sudden thought. “I liked it; having you work right next to me, doing something I like with me. I’ve felt more at peace than ever. I’m glad you’re the first one to ever build with me”

“But no one’s ever built with you?” you asked quietly. You drew your hand up to card your fingers through his beard, right under his chin. With a small smile, he shook his head.

“Never. It’s always just been a me thing...to do by myself. No one ever wanted to build with me.”

“Would you want me to keep building with you more?” you asked him. His smile grew as he looked down at you.

“I would like that a lot, actually.” His tongue flicked out to lick his lips and you watched it.

“Alright, then I’ll build with you whenever you want me to,” you murmured as you reached to place a warm kiss to Finn’s lips. He sighed and kissed you back. When you pulled away from him, you both gave each other a smile. You rolled off Finn’s lap to sit beside him, allowing him to lay back into a more comfy position on the couch.

Finn allowed you to settle into his side, kissing your temple one last time as you both got comfy. You smiled.

You like it whenever Finn’s home. For the peace, the ease, the comfort. It was like your own little LEGO house.

#finn balor #finn bálor #wwe #wwe fluff #finn x reader #finn balor x reader

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mrneighbourlove · 5 years

Text

Red Typhoon: Ch 2. Fellowship of the Sea

Bakura Saibot mediated in the cave. For the past seven years, he carved the ice out, making a sanctuary to collect his thoughts, and looking to the spirits for answers. He had done his best to catch up as a father for Liz and Lex, giving them everything he could, but the girl's hearts wouldn't rest until they found Seer. Adda needed to be found, and when she was... what would Bakura do? All these years, all this anger, and yet he couldn't shake her smile. It haunted him of what could have been.

As Bakura meditated, looking to the spirits for guidance, he felt a murmur, a gentle wave float in his mind. He concentrated, relaxing and letting go of his outward distractions, and focused inward. He heard loud arguing, gunfire, and ships sailing. He saw the snout of a crocodilian man, and a man with a red tie. All these images didn't make sense, until each one repeated over and over, and they linked into an image of Adda and Seer sitting a top a bungalow. Bakura opened his eyes in shock and came back to, the last sound that rang through his ears was the cry of a whale.

"Hey Bakie, don't mean to interrupt your thinking and all, but it's time for supper." Rat's voice echoed into the cave. "Liz is home, and everyone is gathering at mine and Borgie's place." He had little Trygve on his shoulders, his son's arms rested on top of his head. "I'm sure she'd be happy to see you there."

Bakura stood up, catching his breath. "...I saw him."

"...? Eh? No one's in here except you, Bakie."

"I saw Seer and Adda."

"What?" Rat was not following Bakura's words. "You saw them? Bakie, it must have been a dream, they're not here."

"My mediations. It finally paid off. The spirits gave me clues to Seer and Adda!"

Rat never understood mediation and he was never really big on spirits. Though, Bakura seemed pretty hyped. Was it actually possible that he had the location to Seer and Adda?

"I... think you need some a-food, Bakie. And if you do have the location then... eh..." Rat told the assassin. "Forgive me for sounding skeptical, but how can you be so a-sure?"

"Because I want to be. I want to have hope." The three of them headed back to the Kanisa's house. Inside, Revy was proudly describing her successful hunt with her mom and Boof. Liz sat next to Halvar, just content to relax after her long journey, and Lex was chatting it up with Kerugan, asking him if he had a handle on any of the girls his age, and pro tips to make girls comfortable.

"Rat? I thought we were all meeting at your place?" Kanisa asked. "I'm bringing rabbit stew, do you need me to bring something else?"

"No, that's not what we're here for." Rat set Trygve down on his feet. "Bakie thinks he knows the location of... of Seer and Adda."

"Bork?" Boof tilted his head at the mention of Seer's name. He had not see the man in a long time.

"Seer?" Vidar repeated. "It's been seven years, Rat. Corsaire has combed pretty much every inch of the seas and has come up with nothing. What makes you think Bakura knows?"

"Hey, if he has an idea, at least let him share it." Rat shrugged his shoulders. "It could be a-good or a-bad."

Liz and Lex stopped what they were doing and focused their current attention on Bakura. Lex was shocked, and a little excited. "Daddy?"

With all eyes on him, Bakura took a breath. "I had a vision in the cave. I saw a link that lead to Adda and Seer. First was a reptilian pirate with a golden eye. Than a man in shadows with a red tie. Following this, I saw Adda and Seer, clear as day."

"... a reptile pirate?" Vidar was trying to keep a straight face. "Sure you weren't puffing on something?"

"Vidar." Kanisa gave her husband a look. "Be nice."

"Do you have any idea how absurd that sounds?"

"Vidar!"

"Hey, hey, we can at least ask Cap'n if he knows of any reptile pirate." Rat was trying his best to be supportive of Bakura. "Cap'n knew a lot of pirates back in the day, still does."

Liz's mind raced. She thought to all her studies of Adda's known accomplices. Her mother had an army that spawned many loyal to her, with many being creatures and monsters. Some had laid low in infamy to keep a low profile, while others, such as the Dragon Onslaught, had gained a monstrous reputation for raiding military vessels in Adda's name. At her dad's description, she went through her mental list. "I know who he's talking about."

"You do?" Rat actually looked surprised.

"What about the man in a red shadow with a black tie?"

"It was a black shadow with red tie."

"Whatever."

"I don't know. Some pirates hide in shadows more. But they tend to know the location of one another. I think..." Liz stood up, analysing in her mind this development. "I think Dad's vision is telling us an order. If we find the first captain, we find this man in shadow, and from there we find Adda."

Revy stood beside both her moms, with Scarlet having a hand placed firmly on her daughter's shoulder. She regretted not knowing where to find Seer sooner. The paradise island Adda was most likely hiding him on was magic in nature, and slowly moved across the oceans undetected. The old location she gave didn't give Corsaire his friend back.

"Who's this crocodile captain than sis?"

"A captain by the name of Eltontor."

Now it was Lex's term to be excited, and, without a word, she dashed to her house to grab something.

"Okay, we know the 'who' but we still don't know the 'where'." Rat was trying not to let too much hope rise in his chest. All of them had been disappointed before and he did not want that to happen again. "Or what to expect."

An air of silence went through the room, despair leaving its mark. How many times had they hoped before in finding Seer? Every lead they came up with before had dried up. Suddenly, with a force to dispel the sad environment forming, Lex kicked open the door. "Holy crap! We got it! We got it by the balls!"

"Lex, we a-talked about this language." Rat said dryly. "A proper lady doesn't---"

"Just tell us what you have." Vidar interrupted the man.

"Well, through MY hard work, I've been getting information from sailors and travelers. Including some navy officers. And using that information, I've documented every bit of information regarding mom, or any pirate for that matter!" Lex put down charts she had been making for the past two years. "This includes maps, names, and routes. I've triangled many pirate hot spots. And the name of one Captain Eltontor was described to me two weeks ago! He was last seeeeen... HERE!" Lex tapped specific map coordinates. "Right here!"

"Uh..." Rat looked at the charts and then frankly said, "I don't want to know, do I?"

"Okay, I hate to burst a hole in your bubble, but two weeks means we don't have a prayer of catching to wherever he is now." Vidar had to be the one to say it. "Look, even if he is still in that area, he won't be for long. That, and how can we get from here to there in an adequate time? It takes 3 months to sail from here to Hyrule. Danjur is nearly twice that."

"Well, I'm going." Liz stood up, a fire burning in her.

Revy was taken by surprise at how soon Liz reacted. "But Liz, you just got here!"

Bakura nodded in agreement with his daughter. "So am I."

"We can't go without a proper plan." Rat told the Liz and Bakura. "Adda's forces are a-large and vast over this sea. We's going to have to be careful. That, and we need a ship... or more like ships."

"We have a plan. And we have the navies of Uncle Corsaire to back us up." Liz was adamant about going. "If we go in small, we could be undetected an track down these other pirates before we amass on Adda herself."

"You have a plan, Liz, we have to talk this out with Cap'n and be rational." Rat was firm about this. "If we rush, Seer could get hurt. We have no idea what we're going to face with that giant lizard of hers or the number she has behind her. Let's talk to Corsaire, draw up a plan, and then... this old quartermaster might just have to call up his old mates for another sea journey."

"Than what are we waiting for. Let's go to him now." Liz grabbed her coat off Halvar and stomped out the door to be the first to leave the house.

Revy quickly grabbed her coat as Bakura and Lex followed after.

"H-Hey wait! I'm coming too!" Halvar chased after Liz.

"Bork!" Boof followed after Revy, loyal as ever.

"Eh, looks like the celebration is going to have to wait until Seer gets home, Kanisa." Rat said his goodbyes and then followed after the troupe, dragging Bakura with him. "Come on, Bakie, we's gots to get you suited up for a sea voyage."

Scarlet grabbed Rat, unable to stop Revy. "You can't be serious in letting our daughter go."

"Scarlet, it's not a matter of letting her, she's an adult now." Rat told the Iron Knuckle. "She wants to be there to help her best friends. If Borgie was going, wouldn't you want to go with her?"

"I don't want her getting killed! She can't go out there!" Scarlet tried to go past him.

"Scarlet!" Rat stopped her by the shoulders, and gave her a hard look. "Reveka knows what she's doing. Besides, do you not trust me? This 'mousa' as you called me knows how to watch after our little girl. Don't make Revy stingy to you cause you're not wanting her in danger."

"But I..." Scarlet's shoulders sunk in defeat. "She can't get hurt. I should at least go with her, shouldn't I?"

"That's up to you, Scarlet." Rat then gently reminded her. "You don't have to if you don't a-want to. We both know this isn't going to end well for Adda."

"I... I don't know if I can face Adda again. But I have to watch over my little girl. I made promises to myself that I'd never abandon her again."

"You do know that if you go you's... you's going to be against Adda." Rat was not going to sugar coat it. "This isn't going to be a reunion for you two, it's going to be a fight. I may not be your Voe, but I's still caring about you, all of us do. Borgie, Reveka, Trygve... we's your family now."

"I know... she was a sister to me. Someone I loved. But I have you all in my heart now." Scarlet took a deep sigh, trying to not crumble. "We should get going if we want to catch up to them."

"We's all going to understand if you don't want to go. You make up your mind while we prepare, okay?"

"I... I understand." Scarlet walked over to the couch by the fire and sat in contemplation.

At the hotel Corsaire was staying at, he was quickly startled awake just as he was getting an early sleep. It didn't take long for Bakura and his daughters to explain the plan they had in saving Seer from the clutches of Adda.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, one at a time! One at a time!" Corsaire had to yell over the multiple conversations. "Look, I understand you're all eager to leave right now, but the ship isn't ready yet. We need to finish restocking, chart a course, and most importantly, alert Hyrule and Danjur to Adda's location as soon as possible. We're going to need to send word with Stra'tuso's family that delivers cargo to Hyrule and Danjur, it's the only way that's possible."

"Stra'tuso's sister and brother leave tomorrow since they just dropped off cargo a few days ago." Rat told Corsaire. "Not to mention, we's going to have to figure out a way 'round that... Wind Chime thing of Adda's."

"Wind Waker."

Liz took a breath, hoping to come across as clear. "Adda's Wind Waker is one of a kind, and is on her person. When we get that bridge, we'll cross it. First, we need to find someone that knows the location of her secret, hidden island."

"I believe my vision tells me that the man in the red tie will know. And this Captain Eltontor can lead us to him."

"Captain Corsaire, if our target doesn't know an exact way into Adda's island, we have mages in Hyrule and Danjur that could possibly know spells to disenchant Adda's protect dome, right?"

"It's possible, depending on if another mage made the dome or if an ancient artifact made the dome." Corsaire knew little of magic, but his wife Orana had taught him a little. "We have three problems as of the moment. The dragon under Adda's command, the Wind Waker, and the unknown number of ships she has. We're going in blind unless this red tie gentleman can give us more information." The captain grimaced. "One of the first rules of war on the sea is to know exactly what you're up against. We have no clue."

"So that's the a-bad news, what's the a-good?"

"The good news is Adda's arrogance came back to bite her in one way."

"Oh?"

"Remember that sail we made a deal for all those long years ago?"

"Aye."

"Let's just say that this captain might have been collecting the rest... and took down one of her old ships with the last sail, a month ago."

Liz was ecstatic. "Really?! We got them all?!"

"What do you think Hyrule was building me that new, big, fancy, ship for?" Corsaire had to snicker a little at Liz's outburst. In some ways, she was still just a kid. "It took me a long while, but I finally have all of the sails. So that's one surprise Adda will not know of, however... we're not sure what's going to have more of an advantage; the sails or the Wind Waker."

"The Wind Waker for a large scale battle." Bakura thought about the future, and the war that would happen. "We can use this specialized ship to hunt down our targets that will lead us to Adda, and also get in close to Adda herself. If we disable her and her tool, we can stop her from controlling nature. That will even the playing field."

"This might seem like a dumb question to you, but how do we even dismantle this Wind Waker?" Rat asked Bakura. "From what Reveka says, it's damn old and dangerous."

"Well, Dad, according to Hylian legend, its just a baton. If its not in someone's hand to physically wave around, all the spells the current user did should stop, and no one can cast anymore magic. Just, get it out of her hand."

"We can always cut her hands off." Liz offered.

Lex quickly interjected, disturbed by any talk of maiming her mother. "Or we just smack it out of her hands and quickly subdue and arrest her."

"So our first objective is to get the Wind Waker away from her," Corsaire held up his hand to stop the sisters from any further argument. "That way we can get closer. Once that's out of her hands, the second objective is to keep her busy while a few of us find Seer. Last, but not least, we have to make sure that there's an exit. Just because we get in doesn't guarantee us an out."

"You know that there will most likely be casualties. When we reach Adda, we will be at war. At most, her people won't fight. She's already formed an army out of others, so we most likely won't have to kill a lot of Gerudo." Bakura rubbed his hair, thinking about the inevitable reunion. "And Lex, when we face Adda, you have to understand, anything can happen."

"But, we aren't savages. Right? We aren't just gonna assassinate her, right?"

"Either way, once we arrest her, Adda has a death sentence." Corsaire frowned. "You know Hyrule and Danjur both have a warrant for her arrest. Once we bring her to the courts, it will be a death sentence in Danjur due to her shooting Queen Annuciata's brother, Dario. He's very sore about that eye he lost." He then added. "In Hyrule, the best we could hope for is life in prison, but I doubt that is going to be the case."

"I.... I know." Lex looked sad, not meeting anyone's eyes. Bakura gave her a hug. He wouldn't say it outloud, but he understood her feelings.

Liz looked to Halvar, concerned about his well being. "You've never left Uskar before Halvar. Are you certain that you are up to this?"

"This concerns Uskar just as much as it does Hyrule and Danjur." Halvar reminded Liz. "Adda fired upon innocents and some of our people died. We never did a thing to her, and she attacked us outright. Besides, I'm not letting you go alone." He turned slightly red in the cheeks and said sheepishly. "Direnors don't leave their loved ones to fight alone."

Liz processed his answer, and she took his hand. "Ok..."

"I'll get in contact with me old crew mates, have them meet us. Otherwise, once we have any slight idea what we're up against, all that is left is getting more ships and drawing out a battle plan."

Scarlet knocked on the door, peering in. "Captain Corsiare?"

"Yes, Scarlet?" Corsaire stood from his chair. "We're leaving tomorrow as soon as the ship is restocked. I assume you want to talk to Rat and Reveka?"

"Yes."

"If you need me, I'm going to be getting some sleep." Corsaire said goodbye to Rat and the rest of the group before returning to his room.

"Scarlet?" Rat looked at the Gerudo and then at Revy. "What did you decide?"

"Mom. You ok?"

Scarlet sat across from them, taking a sigh. "I worry about you Revy. I know that you're older now. I know that you're strong and smart too. But this task ahead of you... I can't stop worrying."

Revy had her hand taken by her mother. "Revy... I love you. I wasn't there for you for the first era of your life. Now I want to protect you. But even I know that its not my place to protect you forever. And I can't stop you from going. However... will you let me look after you one more time? Please?"

Revy gave a small smile, trying to not let her warmth for her mother overwhelm her. Moving closer to hug her, she nodded. "Of course. I'd feel so much better with you and Dad by my side."

"We's all going to have to be careful and look out for one another." Rat told the two girls and then hugged them both in his huge arms. "First things first though. Scarlet's going to need to go over the basics of a ship with you Reveka, and I's need to find me old guns."

Scarlet felt so happy hugging them both. It felt like the family she could have had, if she hadn't made the biggest mistake of her life.

Revy hugged them both back. "We've been sailing before dad."

"Yes, but being on a war ship is different. And I doubt you ever had to work on a ship. In the morning, I'll take you out. Ok?"

"Ok mom."

The three hugged each other once more, hoping that they'd all return once their journey was over.

"Let's get some dinner and rest before our big day tomorrow."

Onslaught clicked his claws as he sat in the dark, reading the report from the Eastern Front. It seemed that the navies of Danjur and Kikai had gathered together recently to fight off raids. It was disappointing the Kikai Empire had cancelled negotiations with the Collection. Adda had insisted on calling her armies simply, 'her forces'. No name or organization in it. It maddened Onslaught. In time, their forces had grown radically. And as their power increased, Onslaught often wondered if he'd need Adda anymore. Unfortunately, she held respect of many. And most importantly, she held the Wind Waker. As long as she had that, and showed no notable weakness, she held an advantage over him. How could he fight a force that could ground him and send him hurtling from the sky? So the Dragon decided to wait for an opportunity to present itself.

One of the other major lieutenants, code named King Crimson, waited nearby in the shadows. "Onslaught. We need to discuss our most recent hits. Hyrule is allowing dragons to nest on the Charlie and Delta islands."

Onslaught narrowed his eyes. "Unsettling. But not impossible to deal with. We can bomb the islands to drive them off. Do so after they hatch the chicks. They will rather flee forever than risk their young being hurt. We can retrieve our smuggled goods than."

"I understand. Captain Adda wants to know if your fortress can be used to store the cache of diamonds and gold that was recovered from Termina."

"Yes. Of course. I can have my crews airlift it up. Anything else to discuss?"

"No."

"Good. Then go into hiding and gather information on this gathering of Danjur and Hasai."

"Understood."

Now that this meeting was over, Onslaught starred back into darkness. He felt a shift in the air, and felt a feeling in his gut that change was going to take place in the near future.

#crossover #ridersoftheapocalypse #Captain Adda #Bakura Saibot #corsaire #Liz and Lex #Revy #Scarlet #Rat #Borghild #Boof #Halvar #Onslaught: Terror of the Sky and Sea #Seer #comments always welcomed!

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sake-and-whiskey · 7 years

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Siren’s Gold

Author Notes: Here it is Y’all, Chapter 1 of the Pirate AU fic. I hope you all enjoy it! I’d love to hear your thoughts, so feel free to leave a reply or shoot me a message! Read it on AO3 here Rated:M Ship: Pirate McCree/MerHanzo

“ALL CREW TO YER POSTS! ENEMY FLAGS ON THE HORIZON!”

The scramble that followed those words was one of utter chaos. Men darting everywhere, hoisting ropes and rolling out canons, filling them with gunpowder and giant iron balls. The air was filled with yelling and swearing in nearly every language, every man fulfilling a purpose and telling all those around him to be quick about it. The ocean churned roughly, sending people sliding across the slicked deck, but it mattered not to the well adjusted crew, working around every tip and pitch of the ship. They were all sailors of blood, and knew the seas better than they knew land. Which also meant they knew the danger of having an enemy sailing directly at them, and knew very well that these few minutes of preparation would decide if they lived or died.

Storming across the main deck, the first mate was screaming orders, quick to give commands and instructions. Her long dark hair in beaded locks billowed out in the angry wind, voice carrying to all those over the din of their preparation. “Make sure that’s tied down properly! All canons locked in and ready to fire! Get that flag up and flying, I want those bastards knowing exactly who it is they’re dealing with. Someone get the captain out here, now! Ready the main sails full wind towards the horizon!”

Her coat whipped behind her, tanned skin lit up in the orange glow of the setting sun. Fareeha Amari was a seasoned first mate, and knew the life of a Pirate better than most. Her mother had been a Captain, and she had sailed the seas her entire life. The dark tattoo she donned beneath her eye was a symbol of that proud lineage, and declared her a descendant of the legendary Captain Amari. She had once been a mere sailor, but now as a first mate, she took her role very seriously, and understood the power and importance of her command. Lives hung in the echoes of her words, and she did not intend to fail them. “Keep it together, you mangy animals! We will not die tonight! AND WHERE IS THE CAPTAIN?!”

She was answered with the slamming of doors, and all heads turned to the Quarter Deck. There he stood, coat flying behind him as he grabbed hold of the railing, eyeing up his crew. Captain Jesse McCree, glaring towards the horizon line, tall and poised for battle. His face was rough and warn, a shaggy beard covering his chin and a hefty cigar smoldering between his lips. He was a man soldiers feared and respected, one who had cheated death many times and lived to tell the tale. He was a legend in his own regard, the brash captain who had once been a Navy soldier under the legendary Captain Amari herself, but abandoned the crown in search of revenge and glory. The man with the eyepatch and the mechanical arm, whom rumor said could see into your very soul, that had coined him the name ‘DeadEye’ so many years ago. All knew the legends of DeadEye the Pirate, of how he only robbed those who deserved it and could kill six men in the blink of an eye. His crew was proud to serve him, the man who had earned them countless riches and uncountable adventures, and were ready to fight to the death along side him.

“Well now,” he began, pulling his cigar from his lips to call out to the crew who paused only a moment to hear him speak. “Let’s be prepared to slaughter anyone who dares step foot on this deck, shall we lads?”

The crew erupted in cheers, confidence flooding through them as they went back to their mad scramble. McCree stepped up to the helm, fingers clasped around it tightly as he steered the ship towards the coming enemy ship. Fareeha slid up beside him, arms folded as she surveyed the final preparations. “It’s him,” She said in a low voice. “The lookout gave the call; black flag with the cow skull in a circle of red; that is the Blackwatch flag. That’s certainly him, is it not?” “Reckon it must be,” McCree answered, puffing on his cigar. Fareeha looked him over, face lit in the setting sun. She could see the pain there the other crew could not. Then again, she knew Jesse better than anyone else did. The two had known each other since they were children, when Jesse had been deposited into her mother’s custody. Deposited by him. “You haven’t seen him since the last skirmish we had back in the Caspian, correct?” She asked, words cautious and testing. “He tried to kill us, tried to sink Deadlock.” “Aye,” He answered gruffly. “The bastard hasn’t dared shown his face since then.” “He was different. We did not talk about it then, but I feel we should now. I worry this battle won’t be as easy as the last.”

“There ain’t nothin’ to talk about Fareeha,” he snapped, shooting her a look with his good eye.

The woman glared at him, words spit like venom. “You KNOW that is not the case. You have heard the rumors, I have, we all have! That Captain Gabriel Reyes of the Royal Navy was HANGED for TREASON, for BETRAYING THE CROWN.” She whispered roughly, eyes narrowed. “And that happened after we fought him last, McCree. So tell me how a dead man can be sailing towards us now? How he can his ship be here if he was hung by the Ccrown? You know-”

“I ain’t know SHIT, Fareeha,” he snapped back, turning to look at her. “All I know is that there be his ship, and if that bastard ain’t dead, then I’m gonna be the one to kill him myself.”

Their conversation was cut off by a call from the look out; The enemy was coming in fast, within range. Fareeha growled in annoyance, growing into a full blown roar, as she stormed away, down onto the main deck. “ALL CREW TO YOUR POSTS! Every man be ready to fire as soon as they come close enough, on the captain’s word, and don’t let those bastards board! If they do, have those swords ready and be prepared to fight to the death! We fight against treacherous cowards on this night, and the Sea Gods will smile on us for painting the deck with their blood! Now all crew, to your posts, on the Captain’s command!” There was a raw silence that cannot be described as the crew fell into place, waiting with anticipation for the captain’s word. The enemy ship came closer into view, black on the horizon as the sun slipped further beneath the sea, the sky beginning to fade to the inky black of the night. Every breath was hitched as the black flag that flew from the mast came into view, the white Cow skull wreathed in red flying in the wind. The Blackwatch. All men waited, muscles burning and adrenaline pumping, as the ship came closer into view, lit in the pale light of the moon. Until finally, McCree’s roar tore through the silence, ripping it to shreds, filling the hearts of every man with the will to fight, to live, or to die trying. “FIRE!”

Cannons exploded in an instant, reverberating through the hull of the ship and shaking the waves beneath them. The sound was loud and hollow, cracking the ears of the sailors that clutched the guns in their place as they scrambled to reload and refill the powder. A few hit their mark, bursting through the hull of the enemy ship with the sound of splintering wood magnified by a thousand. Their cannon fire was met with it’s own encore, enemy fire hurtling through the air. One tore through the front most gun, sending shock waves through the ship that took men off their feet.

Fareeha grunted, grabbing hold of the main mast to steady herself. McCree growled in frustration, feeling a pain in his side that only a captain can feel when their ship is damaged. He whirled the helm away, trying to encircle the ship and go at it from a different way, but the enemy was smarter, faster. They had sacrificed the ability to shoot first and gain the most physical blows on the hull for the opportunity to focus on speed, on getting in close. Cannon fire continued to resound, but the enemy ship only slid closer, too close for comfort. Fareeha was screaming orders, and their guns continued to blast, tearing into the enemy ship, but it seemed as though it did nothing. No matter how many of their cannonballs ate into the enemy hull, the ship remained standing, drawing ever closer, shooting their own guns into the Deadlock all the while.

“Captain! We’re takin’ on water down here, sir!” A crew member called as they clambered from below deck, and McCree could feel it with the slow pitch of the main bow.

He drew his gun, abandoning the helm as the ship slotted up beside the Deadlock, thundering down the steps onto the main deck. “BOARD THE ENEMY SHIP!” He screamed, and the crew didn’t have to be told twice, dropping ropes and grabbing at their weapons. “Don’t let them get away with this, kill every one of those bastards! And if you can, bring me the Captain ALIVE!” Fareeha was the first one to lead the charge, grabbing hold of a rope and swinging the gap onto the enemy deck, sword drawn and at the ready. Crew members followed her without hesitation, dropping onto the Blackwatch deck with screams of war.

But just as his crew began bridging the gap, so did the crew of the BlackWatch. They swung across and dropped to his deck, swords and guns drawn and ready. Jesse’s face twistedin confusion when he saw them, these crew members dressed in all black with red paint smeared across their faces. These were no ordinary sailors; they were Talon mercenaries, ocean thugs and vigilantes whose loyalty could be bought buy the highest bidder. Had they stolen the BlackWatch? That was suddenly a very real possibility. If not, What in gods name would Reyes be doing with Talon? He had always detested them, hated how they had no real loyalty. But, then again, neither did Reyes, Jesse grimaced.

His thoughts were cut short when a group of them turned his way, and he pulled his gun just in time. ‘BANGBANGBANG’ and they all hit the deck, one after another. Jesse jumped over them, drawing his sword in his mechanical left arm, wielding his glittering pistol in his right. Had there been anyone there to simply observe the battle, they would have been awestruck by the pirate captain. He tore through the ranks of the Talon soldiers, hacking with his sword and finishing with his pistol like it was a fluid dance. McCree ducked in and out of his own crew and the enemy easily, making good headway, spurned on by the pounding of his heart and the rush of battle. He was a warrior at his core, a soldier trained by the seas, and he had fought countless times. The men of Talon were no match for him.

He had cleared a group of them, bodies stacked around him, and noticed their numbers dwindling, a few even roping back over to the BlackWatch. McCree grinned darkly, ready to call out a victory cry, when a hollow ‘CLICK’ echoed beside his ear. He didn’t move; He knew that sound, and felt with it the cold of the barrel of a gun. He couldn’t see who held it, but he didn’t have to. Jesse felt the air grow cold and quiet, the sounds of the battle dying down as he watched his crew members freeze up, eyes wide in fear and horror as they watched their captain stand still with a gun pressed to his head, though their eyes were on the man who held the gun. Jesse scowled as he watched them become overtaken by the Talon men, shoved to their knees, guns to their heads and knives at their throats. He could see others being thrown overboard into the dark water, or being dragged back onto the Deadlock from the BlackWatch. Somewhere behind him, he heard Fareeha struggling as she was pulled back on board, cursing and screaming, a lone voice in the quiet.

“Get your hands off me you motherfuckers, there will be justice here, I will be sure of that! I will kill you all where you stand, I will….” But her voice faded out, replaced by a gasp of horror. When she spoke again, the rage in her voice was gone, now only a quiet whisper of fear. “What in gods name…. Gabriel…?” It was then he heard the laugh. A laugh that sounded cold and wet, reverberating and rough like spoken sand paper, that chilled McCree to his bones. It made his blood run cold, a laugh like the devil himself, followed by a voice to match. “Did you miss me, Ingrate? It’s been a long time.”

Jesse didn’t have to see his face to hear the smile that was playing on his lips. His voice was warbled and evil, but without a doubt it was the same voice he used to know so well. His skin crawled when he heard it, hair prickling on the back of his neck. He heard heavy footfalls, felt the tip of the gun slide across the back of his head, until finally, the figure stood before him.

Jesse McCree was not a religious man by any means, but he had spent too long living on the seas to not believe in magic, and know that there were too many secrets beneath the waves to ever know. What stood before him now only cemented that the Devil was one of those secrets, and that he stood before him now. The man before him had skin that was shriveled and pale with death, wet and glossy like that of a body left to the waves too long. His eyes were pure black, empty voids that bore into Jesse’s soul. His mouth was turned up into more than a smile, a snarl of teeth that looked like they had all come from different masters, sharp and yellow. The top of his head was covered in a hat that was dripping with sea water and mosses, lichens hanging down onto his shoulders. Open wounds littered his face, and worked their way down his neck until his flesh disappeared into a black coat. Smoke poured out from behind him, and the base of his coat flowed and licked like the tendrils of an octopus. The hand that held the gun before Jesse’s eyes was as pale and shriveled as his face, but his fingernails were long and curved like claws, sickly black in color. Smoke poured from between the gaps in his teeth, filtering into the night air.

He was no man. He was a monster.

McCree couldn’t hide his revulsion, but the rage within him bubbled up over the fear. “Been a long time, huh? I don’t think we’ve ever had the displeasure of meeting.”

The creature laughed, shaking his head. “Oh my son, don’t you recognize your old friend? You always were such a rude boy.”

“Y’ain’t no friend of mine,” Jesse spat. “I don’t make a habit of makin’ friends with the devil. ‘Specially not one parading around in the skin of a man that betrayed me.”

The monster scoffed, shaking his head. “You always were so selfish, mijo. But that’s alright. I haven’t come to talk. I’ve come for justice.”

Behind him, he heard Fareeha find her voice. “Justice?! What do you know of Justice?! You betrayed us all! You betrayed my mother and our family, you bastard! We loved you and trusted you! We-”

McCree heard a solid sounds and a sharp cough, no doubt as a Talon Agent kicked her in the stomach, and he started to whirl around, but was answered with the sharp click of the monster pulling back the hammer on his gun. He glared, anger burning in his chest as he stared down the devil, the reaper that held a gun between his eyes. He wasn’t one to be a captive, but he had been in many a stand off. He knew how to hold his ground.

“As I was saying,” the Reaper growled. “I have come for justice. Against every one that was a part of that hideously laughable excuse of a ‘family.’” The monster took a step closer, and Jesse took a step back. The beast cackled again, shaking it’s head. “You don’t understand Mijo. I’m going to make you all suffer the way you made me suffer. I will make your worst fears a reality. I will not rest until every last sailor on the seas fears me and knows my glory. And what better way to start that than by making an example out of the mighty DeadEye? You always were my favorite, so it seems poetic. But I won’t kill you; no, you would like that too much. It would be too easy.

“Instead,” He growled, taking another step towards McCree. “I’m going to take everything you love from you, and you’re going to watch me do it. I’m going to strip you of everything you have worked for, and then leave you to rot the way you left me. And I am going to love every moment of it. Starting now.”

Without warning, he pulled the gun away from Jesse’s head and pointed it to his side, firing. The scream that broke the night air was murderous, a blood curdling scream of agony, and Jesse felt his heart stop in his throat. He whirled around to see Fareeha crumpled on her side, clutching at her chest as thick dark blood pooled around her, the moon reflecting off its black glassy surface. His ears were ringing and time stopped. He couldn’t breathe, wind punched out of him, and if he screamed, he didn’t register it. He took a step towards her before suddenly there were hands around his neck, cold and sharp, digging into his throat.

He tried to turn, to fight, to run, but the Reaper was holding him by his throat, grinning maddeningly. The beast pulled Jesse’s face close against his, close enough for him to breath in the smell of rotting meat and salt on his breath, the see the tiny specks of red in the center of his eyes. “I’ll come for you again, Jesse McCree. I will come for you every time, and I will find you no matter how much you run. And I will take everything you love from you. And you will have to live with that and suffer how I have suffered. Consider this your chance at a head start.”

Before he could fight back, the Reaper hurtled him over the edge of the ship, laughing that same terrible laugh. He fell through the air, tumbling over himself, mind a whirling mess of emotion and pain. He thought he could hear Fareeha scream, maybe his name, he couldn’t be sure. But he did hear the Reaper’s voice, cackling and growling out “DIE! DIE! DIE!” accompanied by gunshots and screams, until finally he hit the water.

His breath was knocked out of him again, the contact hitting like a gunshot. His body tumbled beneath the waves, caught in the swell of the ocean, and he clawed his way up to the surface instinctually. Fear bubbled in his chest, the fear all sailors have of the black water of the ocean, merciless and unforgiving. He sucked in stomachs full of ocean water as he struggled, weighed down by his heavy clothing, metal arm not assisting in his efforts to swim. When he finally broke the surface, air burned his lungs worse than the salt water did, his lungs fighting to breathe.

Jesse treaded water for a few moments, thrashing about, trying to regain his senses, when he saw it; before him, standing like a beacon in the night sky, his ship glowed brightly, consumed by fire. He swam towards it frantically, but the waves pulled him away, further and further from the wreckage of his ship. It crumbled in around itself, flames swallowing it up as the fire blazed on. His flag, the skull with the crossed out eye, was eaten away into nothingness, the mast giving a mighty earsplitting creak as it fell into the sea. The entire thing fell around itself, ripping apart from itself as it began to slowly sink into the inky waves, Jesse’s heart sinking along with it. He watched, broken and helpless, as the name on the back, “DEADLOCK”, sunk into the ocean, disappearing forever, his crew and only friend along with it.

He tread water for god only knows how long, calling out to his crew, to Fareeha, to Gabriel, to God, to anyone that would hear him. No response came. He was only answered by the sounds of the sea, the howling of the wind, and the echo of his own voice off of the water. How long he stayed like that, he didn’t know. At some point, he gave up on anyone replying, simply kicking and holding onto life as best he could. But it never came. Instead, exhaustion set in, eating at his nerves slowly yet surely until he could no longer kick, could no longer put forth the energy to remain afloat. What did it matter? The only family he had left had been robbed from him, along with the crew he’d come to trust, the ship he had come to captain, and all the treasure he had amassed within it. All his life achievements, his life spent working to better himself, had been for nothing. Everything that made him who he was was now gone, swept away by a monster he had once loved and the ocean itself. Jesse McCree was resigned to Death, and welcomed the exhaustion as it threatened his vision and lulled his eyes closed, and consumed his consciousness until only the blackness remained.

He did not see the shapes beneath the surface of the water that cut through the ocean waves. He was already taken by exhaustion and unconsciousness, unable to see how they circled around him deep beneath the water. How they quarreled with one another, pushing each other out of the way to get a better look at the man floating in the waves, and how his jewelry glittered in the moonlight. Nor did he see the pair of hands that eventually took hold of him, strong and powerful hands that shoved all the others out of the way to claim their prize and drag him down, down beneath the surface.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When he awoke, all he could taste was salt and blood.

Jesse coughed hard, curling on his side as sea water poured from his lips, gagging hard as he struggled for air. His body burned and ached all over as he sucked in breaths, mind shaking and numb as it struggled to come to its senses. All he could register was the cold and the pain, until slowly the ringing in his ears faded as his lungs began to work again. He laid there on his side, struggling to piece thoughts together as his body struggled to work like normal once more.

What had happened? He fought to remember, mind rattling itself before suddenly it all came back to him all at once. Far too much. Sensory overload. The enemy ship, the battle, the Reaper, Fareeha, the DeadLock sinking into the waves. His breath caught in his throat as the agony, the sorrow, returned. He wanted to cry but wouldn’t allow that of himself; he didn’t deserve to cry, he had no right. McCree curled in around himself, eyes closed tight as he whispered a prayer, quiet and shaky, for Fareeha. He hoped and prayed that somehow she had survived, but part of him quietly knew there was no way. Instead he laid there, letting his emotions tear through him, giving himself time to mourn and hurt. Wherever he was now, be it Heaven or Hell, he could wait a little longer. He needed time.

And time he took, laying out on the cold ground of wherever he was, until his senses slowly returned to him, emotions subsiding slowly with steady pangs of pain. He could feel the cold roughness of the ground on which he lay, and hear drips echo around him every few seconds. Slowly, he cracked his good eye open, taking in what he could of his surroundings. All he was able to see was rock:, dimly lit, rocky walls. He cocked his head, lifting his upper body to take in more of his surroundings.

His muscles screamed in protest but he ignored them, continuing to sit up until he was on his knees. He was in what appeared to be some kind of cave, a few thin beams of light streaming through cracks in the ceiling. The dripping sounds were the stalactites dropping water from the roof of the cave above into what appeared to be a lagoon of water. As he looked about, he saw he was on a rocky outcropping at the center of the lagoon, completely surrounded by ocean water that was a gentle blue-green. Despite the small amount of light breaking through the ceiling of the cave, the entire room glowed a gentle gold color.

The pirate rose to his feet wearily, a laborious task- his long coat and clothes still soaked. He must not be dead, he reasoned (with a fair amount of disappointment), and did an inventory check. He still had his Peacekeeper, but his hat was missing, hair wet and plastered down to his face. His jewelry, the heavy gold rings he had a habit of wearing on each finger of both hands, were gone as well. In addition, his belt and the heavy gold belt buckle he wore with it were gone too. Taken by the sea, he reasoned, before it registered to him there was no way the ocean waves could have gotten all his rings off each finger. Perplexed, he ventured to the edge of the rock on which he stood to get a better view of his surroundings, and nearly fell into the water at what he saw.

The entire sea floor of the cave was coated in gold; gold coins, gold statues, chests overflowing with jewelry, goblets and gems that shined through the crystal clear water. McCree could make out suits of armor, statues, crowns, all growing lichens and barnacles, but still shining brightly beneath the waves. It was almost too much for the pirate to take in; in all his years and all his adventures, Captain McCree had never seen this much gold in one place. Surely he was dead and this was heaven, for there was no way this could be real. His pain was forgotten, lost to the wonder that lit up his senses like that of a child. He had half a mind to pull of his boots and dive in the water, until a splash from behind him put him on full alert.

He spun around in an instant, drawing Peacekeeper and firing without a second thought. But the weapon only gave a resounding thud as the hammer fell on wet gunpowder. Jesse was glad it had. For before him, peeking out from the water, he could see two dark glowing eyes staring directly at him. A pool of long dark hair flowed around them, hindering his view of what was beneath it, but he didn’t have to see to know. Finned ears poked out from the inky locks, and the eyes bobbed up and down in the water but never wavered from his face. Jesse’s heart stopped in his chest. Yes, he knew what those eyes meant. He’d been a sailor long enough to know eyes like that; eyes with slits for pupils that glowed like the moon.

Sirens.

#pirate au #sirens gold #mchanzo #pirate mccree #mermaid hanzo #mer hanzo #mer hanzo pirate jesse #samatura #samatura writes #sake and whiskey

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kyoulove · 7 years

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40 Questions - Meme for Shippers

So @bethanyactually was doing these yesterday, and I wanted to answer them all, so I am! I’ll do a couple then put the rest under a cut so you all don’t get a wall of text. :D (I’ve actually had this open in a word document for about a week, so it’s way later than I intended to post hahahaha whoops)

1. Talk about the first ship you ever had. OH MAN. My wee shipper heart! I think (think!) the first one I ever had was the couple from Today’s Special? That kids show where the mannequin came to life and they were obviously in love with eachother.

2. Talk about three of the most important ships throughout your life. Oooo in my life? Well…. Snape/Hermione was one that I shipped for YEARS as a teen (I still ship them but don’t actively read about them). Bulma/Vegeta from DBZ really got me into fandom as a youngling. Inquisitor/Cullen is so important to me too, because of the impact that Dragon Age Inquisition had on me.

3. What’s your current OTP? But how do I pick just one? Right this second I have tabs open for stories to read with Bellamy/Clarke, from The 100. And also Jyn/Cassian from Rogue One. And a couple random Inquisitor/Cullen stories and Steve/Bucky ones.

4. What’s your current NOTP? Um….. There isn’t a lot I don’t ship, really….. Hm…. Haha - Voldemort/Hermione. I don’t know what was happening in the internet last week but wow. Ooooo wait I thought of one! Ron/Hermione. Nope, don’t like it.

5. Do you have any poly ships? Damn you, Leverage, but you made me ship it. So hard. SO HARD.

6. How do you feel about love triangles? While I’m pretty much over them right now, done right I don’t necessarily dislike them. Sometimes. Really though, at this point in my reading/shipping life, a love triangle seems like such a contrived plot point that I just want it to go away.

7. How do you feel about RPF? It makes me really uncomfortable, and I don’t read it. Fictional characters are wonderful to write about, but real people are actually real people and there is a line there, I think. (Though, when I was but a young teen, a couple friends and I were deep DEEP into writing Hanson RPF – I think we wrote that they moved in next door? It spawned and epic and ultimately weirdly tragic tale.)

8. Have you ever shipped yourself with a character? Have I ever introduced you to my fictional husband, Ser Cullen Stanton Rutherford? (Though honestly, I actually ship myself more with the Iron Bull, because I can’t play through his romance in game.)

9. Do you have many ships that never got together at all? Yesssssss so many. Betty/Jughead (I haven’t thought of them in so long, thanks Riverdale), let’s not even get into Stiles/Derek, are Clarke/Bellamy actually together? I don’t know, I think most of my ships are not canon. I tend to like those almost more in fandom, because romances that happen on screen have already happened! It’s a weird feeling.

10. Do you ship any characters that have never met? No, I can’t think of any?

11. Talk about your favorite first kiss. Ooooo Veronica and Logan. They have an A+ first kiss.

12. Have you ever been disappointed when your ship finally got together? Well, most of my ships don’t…

13. Has a ship ever broken your heart? YES. Elizabeth and Will in Pirates of the Caribbean. The ending of the first trilogy, where they can only be together for one day every 10 years was SO UNSATISFYING I can’t actually watch the movies again.

14. How do you feel about will they/won’t they? Uggggg. I don’t mind a bit of tension about the relationship, but if it’s dragged on too long I lose interest, and frankly think the relationship becomes unhealthy. Pining is great, pining for years is awkward. (See: Bones)

15. Have you ever “shipped at first sight”? Yes, pretty much always.

16. Talk about a ship you initially disliked. I would say probably my OT3 from Leverage, just because I didn’t want an OT3 in my life LOL.

17. Talk about a pairing you’ve stopped shipping romantically. When I was reading the first Mistborn book, I initially shipped Vin and Kelsier together. However as the book progressed, they fell into more of a father/daughter relationship which suited the characters perfectly.

18. Talk about a moment which made you question an entire ship. I’m sure there is something but I’m drawing a blank, friends. A BLANK. I guess the entire Civil War arc made me question all my Steve/Tony feels?

19. Have you ever shipped something despite yourself? Well, I am normally not into poly relationships, but then ALONG CAME LEVERAGE AND HERE WE ARE. Lordie. The three of them are just so in love. I really didn’t want anything to do with The 100 as a show either, but I slipped and fell in thanks to the fanfiction LOL.

20. Talk about a ship you feel alone in shipping. Lassiter/Shawn from Psych. I mean. Clearly they love eachother. But there just isn’t a whole lot of fanfiction! One day, maybe!

21. Is there a ship you just don’t get, but have nothing against? Scott/Stiles, I think. I really love them as brothers, and have a hard time moving past that!

22. Which of your ships have the best chemistry? Steve/Bucky, probably. Sterek is a close second too!

23. Which of your ships deserve better writing? All have good writing, I think, but I think the Jack/Phryne ship needs more. Much more. Because I love them and I need it :D (Actually, more is basically what I want for all fandoms ever, because I’m just so greedy LOL)

24. Do you mostly ship canon pairings? No, I think I ship the ones that never really happen the most!

25. Have you ever shipped a pairing before you even started watching the show/movie simply because of gifs and graphics or similar? I have never had the slightest desire to watch The 100, but I ship Bellamy/Clarke so hard. I also started watching Teen Wolf solely because of the quality Sterek fandom of the time.

26. Have you noticed a pattern in your shipping? Is there a romantic dynamic you’re more drawn to? I love enemies to lovers, I love “OOOPS I caught a feeling what do I do”, I love an age difference (only in fiction kids, only in fiction), I love sass and pining. I love a long, drawn out story where both of the idiots think the other doesn’t have any romantic feelings. Oh, and coffee shop AUs. Classic.

27. Is there a ship you’ve shipped for most of your life? Not really, though Snape/Hermione is probably the longest running one.

28. Does shipping come easily to you? As easy as breathing. I love love! Show me two people with the slightest degree of feelings and BAM I have probably shipped it.

29. Do you need to ship something to really enjoy a movie/book/tv show/comic? No, but it certainly helps! And frankly, unless it is a piece of entertainment with only one person I am probably going to find the ship hiding in it.

30. Name a couple of fandoms in which you have no ships. Ahahahahahahahhaha it’s possible that one doesn’t exist but TRY ME INTERNET.

31. Talk about one of your favorite headcanons for a ship you love. It’s not really a headcannon per se, but I’ve read a lot of fanfics where Jyn/Cassian share a bed before they really admit their feelings and I love itttttt.

32. Share five must-read fics. But How to choose??? Tearing Down the Heavens [Inquisitor/Cullen – Dragon Age Inquisition], Champion’s Coffer [Hawke/Varric – Dragon Age 2], let’s give ‘em something to talk about [Jyn/Cassian – Star Wars Rogue One], regardless of warning the future doesn’t scare me at all [Clarke/Bellamy – The 100], This Your Protect [Steve/Bucky – Captain America: The Winter Soldier]

33. Name your favorite fanartist(s). Ummmm….. I don’t have one?

34. Share your favorite fanmix for your OTP. I don’t have one of these either!

35. Recommend 1-5 shipper blogs. Pass – I don’t want to link to people and all the blogs I follow are multi fandom blogs :D

36. Do you create fanmixes/gif sets/fanart/fic/fanvids and so on for you ships? Nope!

37. Do you have a favorite trope and/or AU for your OTP? Coffeeshop AUs are just the best I think. A long slow burn and enemies to lovers is also great.

38. Do you like and use ship names? I think the only one I really use is Sterek, the rest of them are name/name.

39. Is there a fictional relationship you’d really want for yourself? Mmmm nah. I mean, I love my husband a lot, and frankly, we put our favorite characters through some shit!

40. If you could change one thing about your OTP, what would that be? Hahahah I don’t have an OTP – the closest I can get is sometimes an OTP within a fandom lol. Let’s see. I think across the board I would like to see more producers/writers who love the fandom actually DO something with that information. Less queerbaiting and actually making it canon, for a start (looking at you, Teen Wolf). If there are some unattached people that are loudly and enthusiastically paired together, why not try it out? Sometimes the writers have a different path in mind, and I get that, but so often in shows it’s to draw out the tension or to just ignore it entirely. And please, stop the love triangles.

Well, now that I’ve read and written the word “ship” way to many times, thank you and goodnight. :D

#beth rambles #ships #so many ships!!!!#mine

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readbookywooks · 7 years

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ALL that night we were in a great bustle getting things stowed in their place, and boatfuls of the squire's friends, Mr. Blandly and the like, coming off to wish him a good voyage and a safe return. We never had a night at the Admiral Benbow when I had half the work; and I was dog-tired when, a little before dawn, the boatswain sounded his pipe and the crew began to man the capstan-bars. I might have been twice as weary, yet I would not have left the deck, all was so new and interesting to me - the brief commands, the shrill note of the whistle, the men bustling to their places in the glimmer of the ship's lanterns. "Now, Barbecue, tip us a stave," cried one voice. "The old one," cried another. "Aye, aye, mates," said Long John, who was standing by, with his crutch under his arm, and at once broke out in the air and words I knew so well: "Fifteen men on the dead man's chest - " And then the whole crew bore chorus: - "Yo-ho-ho, and a bottle of rum!" And at the third "Ho!" drove the bars before them with a will. Even at that exciting moment it carried me back to the old Admiral Benbow in a second, and I seemed to hear the voice of the captain piping in the chorus. But soon the anchor was short up; soon it was hanging dripping at the bows; soon the sails began to draw, and the land and shipping to flit by on either side; and before I could lie down to snatch an hour of slumber the HISPANIOLA had begun her voyage to the Isle of Treasure. I am not going to relate that voyage in detail. It was fairly prosperous. The ship proved to be a good ship, the crew were capable seamen, and the captain thoroughly understood his business. But before we came the length of Treasure Island, two or three things had happened which require to be known. Mr. Arrow, first of all, turned out even worse than the captain had feared. He had no command among the men, and people did what they pleased with him. But that was by no means the worst of it, for after a day or two at sea he began to appear on deck with hazy eye, red cheeks, stuttering tongue, and other marks of drunkenness. Time after time he was ordered below in disgrace. Sometimes he fell and cut himself; sometimes he lay all day long in his little bunk at one side of the companion; sometimes for a day or two he would be almost sober and attend to his work at least passably. In the meantime, we could never make out where he got the drink. That was the ship's mystery. Watch him as we pleased, we could do nothing to solve it; and when we asked him to his face, he would only laugh if he were drunk, and if he were sober deny solemnly that he ever tasted anything but water. He was not only useless as an officer and a bad influence amongst the men, but it was plain that at this rate he must soon kill himself outright, so nobody was much surprised, nor very sorry, when one dark night, with a head sea, he disappeared entirely and was seen no more. "Overboard!" said the captain. "Well, gentlemen, that saves the trouble of putting him in irons." But there we were, without a mate; and it was necessary, of course, to advance one of the men. The boatswain, Job Anderson, was the likeliest man aboard, and though he kept his old title, he served in a way as mate. Mr. Trelawney had followed the sea, and his knowledge made him very useful, for he often took a watch himself in easy weather. And the coxswain, Israel Hands, was a careful, wily, old, experienced seaman who could be trusted at a pinch with almost anything. He was a great confidant of Long John Silver, and so the mention of his name leads me on to speak of our ship's cook, Barbecue, as the men called him. Aboard ship he carried his crutch by a lanyard round his neck, to have both hands as free as possible. It was something to see him wedge the foot of the crutch against a bulkhead, and propped against it, yielding to every movement of the ship, get on with his cooking like someone safe ashore. Still more strange was it to see him in the heaviest of weather cross the deck. He had a line or two rigged up to help him across the widest spaces - Long John's earrings, they were called; and he would hand himself from one place to another, now using the crutch, now trailing it alongside by the lanyard, as quickly as another man could walk. Yet some of the men who had sailed with him before expressed their pity to see him so reduced. "He's no common man, Barbecue," said the coxswain to me. "He had good schooling in his young days and can speak like a book when so minded; and brave - a lion's nothing alongside of Long John! I seen him grapple four and knock their heads together - him unarmed." All the crew respected and even obeyed him. He had a way of talking to each and doing everybody some particular service. To me he was unweariedly kind, and always glad to see me in the galley, which he kept as clean as a new pin, the dishes hanging up burnished and his parrot in a cage in one corner. "Come away, Hawkins," he would say; "come and have a yarn with John. Nobody more welcome than yourself, my son. Sit you down and hear the news. Here's Cap'n Flint - I calls my parrot Cap'n Flint, after the famous buccaneer - here's Cap'n Flint predicting success to our v'yage. Wasn't you, cap'n?" And the parrot would say, with great rapidity, "Pieces of eight! Pieces of eight! Pieces of eight!" till you wondered that it was not out of breath, or till John threw his handkerchief over the cage. "Now, that bird," he would say, "is, maybe, two hundred years old, Hawkins - they live forever mostly; and if anybody's seen more wickedness, it must be the devil himself. She's sailed with England, the great Cap'n England, the pirate. She's been at Madagascar, and at Malabar, and Surinam, and Providence, and Portobello. She was at the fishing up of the wrecked plate ships. It's there she learned 'Pieces of eight,' and little wonder; three hundred and fifty thousand of 'em, Hawkins! She was at the boarding of the viceroy of the Indies out of Goa, she was; and to look at her you would think she was a babby. But you smelt powder-didn't you, cap'n?" "Stand by to go about," the parrot would scream. "Ah, she's a handsome craft, she is," the cook would say, and give her sugar from his pocket, and then the bird would peck at the bars and swear straight on, passing belief for wickedness. "There," John would add, "you can't touch pitch and not be mucked, lad. Here's this poor old innocent bird o' mine swearing blue fire, and none the wiser, you may lay to that. She would swear the same, in a manner of speaking, before chaplain." And John would touch his forelock with a solemn way he had that made me think he was the best of men. In the meantime, the squire and Captain Smollett were still on pretty distant terms with one another. The squire made no bones about the matter; he despised the captain. The captain, on his part, never spoke but when he was spoken to, and then sharp and short and dry, and not a word wasted. He owned, when driven into a corner, that he seemed to have been wrong about the crew, that some of them were as brisk as he wanted to see and all had behaved fairly well. As for the ship, he had taken a downright fancy to her. "She'll lie a point nearer the wind than a man has a right to expect of his own married wife, sir. But," he would add, "all I say is, we're not home again, and I don't like the cruise." The squire, at this, would turn away and march up and down the deck, chin in air. "A trifle more of that man," he would say, "and I shall explode." We had some heavy weather, which only proved the qualities of the HISPANIOLA. Every man on board seemed well content, and they must have been hard to please if they had been otherwise, for it is my belief there was never a ship's company so spoiled since Noah put to sea. Double grog was going on the least excuse; there was duff on odd days, as, for instance, if the squire heard it was any man's birthday, and always a barrel of apples standing broached in the waist for anyone to help himself that had a fancy. "Never knew good come of it yet," the captain said to Dr. Livesey. "Spoil forecastle hands, make devils. That's my belief." But good did come of the apple barrel, as you shall hear, for if it had not been for that, we should have had no note of warning and might all have perished by the hand of treachery. This was how it came about. We had run up the trades to get the wind of the island we were after - I am not allowed to be more plain - and now we were running down for it with a bright lookout day and night. It was about the last day of our outward voyage by the largest computation; some time that night, or at latest before noon of the morrow, we should sight the Treasure Island. We were heading S.S.W. and had a steady breeze abeam and a quiet sea. The HISPANIOLA rolled steadily, dipping her bowsprit now and then with a whiff of spray. All was drawing alow and aloft; everyone was in the bravest spirits because we were now so near an end of the first part of our adventure. Now, just after sundown, when all my work was over and I was on my way to my berth, it occurred to me that I should like an apple. I ran on deck. The watch was all forward looking out for the island. The man at the helm was watching the luff of the sail and whistling away gently to himself, and that was the only sound excepting the swish of the sea against the bows and around the sides of the ship. In I got bodily into the apple barrel, and found there was scarce an apple left; but sitting down there in the dark, what with the sound of the waters and the rocking movement of the ship, I had either fallen asleep or was on the point of doing so when a heavy man sat down with rather a clash close by. The barrel shook as he leaned his shoulders against it, and I was just about to jump up when the man began to speak. It was Silver's voice, and before I had heard a dozen words, I would not have shown myself for all the world, but lay there, trembling and listening, in the extreme of fear and curiosity, for from these dozen words I understood that the lives of all the honest men aboard depended upon me alone.

#TreasureIsland

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justnotcricket · 7 years

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Match Report: 14/1/17

WASTCA/One Day Div 2

Doubleview Carine [2/149] Def Fremantle Mosman Park [10/147]

There is an ancient maxim that says ‘History is written by the Victors…’ but fails to take into account that history is actually written by the literate.

Our 10th grade team, for example, top of the table and currently undefeated; despite mighty victories... have only yielded muddled tales of inconsequence.

Legendarily short on character, narrative structure, and merely belying a deeply ingrained culture of bravado, and choking in the finals.

Their fate is of forgotten heroes, memories lost to the sands of time…

‘Mikey Who?’

Conversely, there lies valuable instruction in reflection on a stunning defeat.

The Greeks knew this. They invented tragedy.

In cricket, as in battle, there can only be one winner, and in order for the taste of victory to be sweet, we must know, and fear, the anguishes of loss.

Or why bother… What would be the point?

There wouldn’t. …

It has been a long time between drinks for our merry band of men, and soon to be men, in Phoenix’s case.

‘Twas the game before Christmas, and Bassendean Gold [like the diet version of Bassendean Lager] returned the favour of our earlier forfeiture with one of their very own.

A gift, and yet robbed of the opportunity to thrash them; very Zen.

Instead, we gathered at the Leopold Hotel to drink and be served by young women wearing considerably less clothing than any of the men.

Which seems like a gross inequality to me; because if I did it, I’d be arrested…

Even if I would have looked just as hot in a little black thong. And I would…

I shudder to recount some of the oral history entrusted to my blushing ears that day. Stories so depraved, so base, that it would be inappropriate to print them here. To call it ‘Secret Men’s Business’ is to bestow more dignity on them than it rightfully deserves.

Reminisces of bucks nights, swimming pools at grounds, strippers, hats being whipped around and… apparently there was another Muncher!?!

And the current Muncher's exploits would pale in comparison to the previous Muncher’s munching!?!

A much munch-ier Muncher, if you will!

What do you even have to do, to earn the nickname; ‘Muncher’? I don’t even want to know. Our American friends would dismiss all this as pussy grabbing locker-room talk, which it was. Tim Bott also had a parmy.

Since then, I played my 50th game for the club, down a grade, and without fanfare, in 10’s.

The definition of anti-climax.

Again, I was called to bowl at the death for a thrilling victory [as is my role], but true credit must be laid at the feet of our international players, Rahul Malhotra and Prabin Shrestha, for their skin-tight bowling and timely wicket taking.

Match winning performances both.

Still, this is not their song, merely a footnote in the history of the One-day 2’s…

Which brings us to the rematch with our nemeses, Doubleview Carine, at home.

Captain Ray was away on sorry business and I was called to step in as the Chairman of Selectors, and remarkably 14 confirmed.

We called a crisis meeting, unused to the idea of genuine ‘selection’ rather than a frantic scraping of the bottom of the barrel, and convened like the early DaDa-ists in Zurich, to declare a manifesto of what it takes in the making of a One Day Pirate!

Loyalty, character, good humour and temperament, obviously. But we have also made it into the 4; and to secure ourselves a place in the finals we would also need to actually win.

Ironically, with Clint and Corms out, our line up was wall-to-wall ‘specialist batsmen’. We desperately needed bowlers, and had none but Darrell. At club selections we made the request, ‘Please, Sir. Can we have a bowler?’

‘A Bowler!?!’

‘10’s have, like, six of the bastards…’

‘No bowler for you!’

We would be one our own when it came drawing players. Happy to take our fees and money for fundraising events, but not quite seen as proper cricketers by the club.

Still, always good to know where you stand when it comes to busy bees!

We would name two debutantes, my friend George from Hippy Cricket, and Black Eyed Steve offered to bribe his son Andre to play with us.

I can’t say it didn’t feel like slave trading… but we needed a bowler. Otherwise we would be opening the bowling with Sean McGivern.

Mary, Mother of Jesus!

It was a headache, and late on Friday evening, still no word on the final decision; Ray had forgotten to send the out the team list.

Maybe it’s the reason we haven’t had more indigenous players in the Australian team; Rod Marsh just misplaced the message sticks.

We won the toss and batted. I pushed myself down the order [I’m a bowler now] and we opened with Quinny and Black-eyed Steve.

The result being a diamond duck on the first ball of the innings.

Quinny hit it down the ground, called yes and took off. Technically it was Steve’s call for the second, and given his running pattern is as dynamic as a stop motion animation of garden gnomes, there was never really going to be two in it.

It immediately set the tone for the game, if not the makings of a potential wood duck nomination.

Ray went in at number 3 and Quinny departed soon after, caught at mid on.

We were two for fuck all.

I had big hopes for George on debut. I have seen him bat many times and know him to be patient and watchful early, respecting the bowler and waiting for the bad one before sending it over the horizon. And despite his dicky knees, I wasn’t sure anyone else would get a bat.

He played the most elegant forward defence of the day, but then top edged his second ball and we were three for nine in the 3rd over.

Shrugger and Shorty fell over themselves to push me back up the order to steady the ship, which thankfully we did, putting on a 60 run partnership.

Ray started hitting big until he smoked a cross bat slog that was blindingly caught, horizontal and with arms outstretched, by the lad at mid off.

Oh, to be young again!

Shrug came out and threw his bat around [literally] before being bowled by a full ball that was exactly what I told him to expect from the bowler.

Shorty hit a couple of boundaries before also being caught, and at drinks we were 6 for 88.

So much for a line-up gravid with batsmen…

Daryl joined me in the middle and I edged my way to 50, being dropped three times in an over off Belstead.

Tired and dehydrated in the heat, I didn’t have anything left in the tank and relinquished my wicket to a shit ball from Delaney.

Again.

Darrell went soon after on 22, we had put on 37 runs, and Phoenix [14] and Andre [2] did well to accumulate some wides.

McGivern carried his bat and we were rolled for 144 in the 31st over.

Defendable, but we would have to take early wickets.

Astonishingly, Darrell trapped their captain LBW on the first ball! Sean McGivern started from the other end, and he took the other opener. Their two most dangerous batsmen gone, and they were 2 for 2 in the second.

Did we dare to dream? Could it be this easy?

Suddenly, it seemed like we had a match on our hands.

Except, we didn’t. George had to leave early. His pregnant daughter in hospital with suspected appendicitis. A valid excuse.

Except I think I may have heard him use this one before, so either he has more offspring of child bearing age, or has passed on the genetic anomaly of multiple appendices.

Entirely possible, but he confided in me later that no one had brought weed and he wasn’t really feeling the vibe…

Andre also informed us after bowling that he had to leave early for work at some bar somewhere, and we were fielding with 9.

I hope Steve got his money back.

They needed just over three an over, and could push it around without risking wickets. And depressingly, it was exactly what they did. We just couldn’t remove them.

Belstead dropped down to play with them and made 60 odd not out, and Raynor made a 50.

It was similar to a loss versus Curtin Victoria Park last year last year, and while it almost feels like cheating, it clearly demonstrates how a club can win across all their grades through distribution of key players.

Imagine if we had the strategic vision to do that! MONEYBALL!

On a positive note, Justin Short was a revelation with the ball, he’ll be opening from the River end next week.

Beaten and broken, we drowned our sorrows watching the Scorchers being smashed in the BBL. The only cheer was of hearing Tim Bott’s success on Tindr by lying about his age.

It would be a long and lonesome week before we would get the opportunity to redeem ourselves. And such is the punishing nature of cricket.

The good is defined by the bad, the thrill of the foot on the throat, made more pleasurable by the painful memory of getting it in the neck.

Such is life.

#cricket #wickets #pirates

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