#ha ghf ahfa

[sunflowercecil-blog]

Captain’s Orders

it’s fiNALLY HERE! The long-awaited pirate fic ft cecil and julian bc im one homo bastard. If you missed this boat, this post caught some attention and people were asking for a fic. And, weeks later, I’m finally providing. 

thank u to @bazzpop, @devorak-titties, @bitters-enthusiast and @timmys-and-scribbles (and all the anons!!!) who vocally wanted this and therefore gave me my Only motivation to actually write it. love all y’all uwu

warning!! there’s blood!! there’s swearing!! there’s... like... a kinda Stockholm Syndrome vibe to it! pls be careful idk people’s triggers pls tell me how to tag this osbsb. its all 3000+ words so get some fuckin popcorn lmao

without further adieu, i present to u: gay pirates

When he found the will to open his eyes, Julian recognised none of his surroundings.

The floor his knees pressed against was a dark burgundy wood, decorated with layers of chippings and scratches that scrawled all around him. When the floor met the wall, it grew into a lighter brown. But still just as damaged. The wood had dent after dent, little holes from sharp objects hitting it and chips lying scattered at the base. If it hadn't been obvious enough that this room was for more violent activities, there was a darkened patch of the wall that tinted red when the light hit it. His throat tightened.

With an attempt to stand, he found that his hands were bound behind a large pillar in the middle of the room. The pillar looked to be the most damaged thing here. The dark paint was a mere stain now, with the light core of the wood being the most exposed part. It curved and ducked and stuck out in morbid ways, like it was mocking the branches of a tree.

Julian craned his neck around, trying to catch a glimpse of his hands behind the pillar. If he knew what kind of knot he’d been tied with, he could potentially get out. His best efforts were weak shuffles and grunts, trying to twist around the base of the pillar to look. Had it not been for the support of the bonds, he would have fallen over.

Voices, muffled through the wood, hit his ears. Snapping up, Julian watched the door. Rays of sunlight filtered through the cracks and between the edges. They danced around silhouettes eagerly, trying to squeeze through to reach him. The words outside were barely audible, and he only caught snippets of words and phrases.

“… tied.” Ah. So they were talking about him. Unless they had multiple people tied up here. Actually, that wasn’t entirely implausible.

There was silence, and a small thud before the same voice squawked.

“Yes, Captain!”

Footsteps scuttled away, getting more distant. He wanted to relax, but there was still a shadow behind the door. It felt impossible to breathe, like any sound would alert the captain of his presence. Julian dropped his head, trying to catch a glimpse of the knot once more.

He stopped when he felt the sunlight hit his face, and rays of gold illuminated the red stains deep in the wooden boards below. The blood seeped between the cracks and faint lacerations that looked awfully like the scratches of fingernails. He stared, until the light was blocked once more. A silhouette crawled across the floor of the room. Julian looked up. The figure was encased in shadows, a glow of the sun behind them. It was hard to make out any real features. A captain’s hat perched on their head, the sway of tashes by their thighs.

When they stepped forwards and leaned against the frame of the door, Julian could finally see them. A tangle of red hair swept up when the hat was pushed sideways. It fell in thick straight locks, only to the ear until it was shaved.

The man had a rounded face and a button nose. Had it been in any other situation, he would have been cute. But this man also had scars down his neck and chest, which he proudly displayed with a half open shirt. Jewellery lined every patch of skin – a silver and golden choker around his neck; ruby and sapphire gems hung from chains and rested on his chest; his wrists were covered in shiny metals and gems up to his biceps, where his ripped sleeves finally covered his skin, but not enough to hide the deep black mark of thief on his left bicep. The shirt was a faded pink colour, mostly coated in stains now. All the buttons were gone, and the only thing holding it in place was the green sash it was tucked into. Underneath the sash there must have been a belt, because a cutlass dangled from the man's waist. It scathed against his leggings, but the tip harmlessly bashed into the thick leather of his boots. After letting Julian gaze, the man finally spoke.

“Well, well, well.” His voice was higher than Julian had been expecting. It certainly didn’t have a rough accent, or the choke of a smoker, but the confident, sultry tone was enough to throw him through a loop and convince him this man was a real pirate.

As he walked forwards, he closed the door behind him. Julian swallowed. The idea of being alone in a room with this man was terrifying. And... a little exciting. He'd met pirates before. But never young ones – never ones who were glamorous and cocky and perhaps a little feminine. The pirates he knew were as rough and tumble as they come.

His staring and daydreaming finally stopped when the captain was in front of him, staring down at him. Julian felt a little vulnerable. He was bound to a pillar, kneeling in front of this man. He could barely remember how this had even happened. Where he’d been, how he’d gotten here. But the questions scattered from his brain when the tip of the man’s sword was suddenly pressed under his chin. He gasped quietly.

“You deaf?” The man snapped, eyes piercing down at him. “I asked for your name.”

“Julian-" He choked, careful about how close his throat came to the blade. “Julian Devorak, sir.”

The captain raised an eyebrow thoughtfully. He kept the sword in place. “And how did you get onto my ship, Julian?”

As he opened his mouth, it suddenly came back. Stumbling through crowds, shoving people aside and sprinting as fast as his legs could carry him. With guards hot on his trail, he needed the closest hiding place possible. And it just so happened that a large ship was docked nearby, with men hauling aboard in a hurry. It was easy to blend in. Just panic and nod and hurry up. Before he knew it, the ship was sailing and Julian was a stowaway.

On a pirate ship.

“Your crew let me on.” He gulped, “They- ah- they must have thought I was just one of them.”

The captain pursed his lips. With a dirty look, he dropped the sword and tied it back to his waist. Julian let out a sigh of relief, but he wasn’t out of the water yet. He was still tied here.

“Yeah, that sounds like them. Bunch of burros, Dios mío.”

A feeling of confusion passed through Julian. Was he speaking Spanish? That would have explained the lack of a pirate voice. And, actually, a lot of his mannerisms. He wasn’t a Nevivion pirate. Which got Julian even more interested. But his questions could wait.

The captain, with an air of relaxation now, sat down in front of Julian. He pulled one leg up to his chest to rest his chin, jewellery dangling and clicking together as he moved. The way his eyes fell back to Julian's face - half lidded and dazed – made Julian gulp.

“So, why did you get on my ship?”

“I needed to hide, sir.” He quivered. “Guards were-"

A laugh cut him off, and the captain looked amused with his statement. He kicked Julian lazily, more of a playful action than anything malicious. With a grin, the captain quirked an eyebrow.

“A stowaway and a criminal? You really did fit right in. Your first time getting chased?”

Julian shook his head.

“Thought so. You’re too pretty to be good. Pretty boys are always the dangerous ones.”

Oh, Lord help him. A flirt edged on his tongue and he desperately tried to resist the immature urge to slip a reply. Julian bit his tongue, but the pain only really tempted him more.

“You must be lethal, then.”

And the immediate regret. The two of them stared at each other for a moment before Julian’s eyes averted away in panicked shame. He was a dead man breathing. Flirting with a pirate captain, what was he thinking-?!

Soft laughter caught his attention and he risked a glance upwards. The captain was chuckling, head leaned back in a position all too lewd. Julian caught a brief glimpse of exposed chest and neck before turning away once more. But not quick enough.

“You enjoying the view? You’re quite lucky I haven’t killed you yet. Don’t get too confident.” The threat was spoken in such a fluid tone that Julian almost felt comfortable. Almost. He was still potentially going to die here. Unless he could talk his way out.

“I can be useful. You don’t have to kill me.” He begged. “I’m a doctor.”

The captain raised his eyebrows in surprise. He pushed forwards onto his knees and faced Julian, leaning in close to intimidate him. It worked. Julian swallowed thickly, flushed with fear. Or, at least, what felt like fear.

“You must be a coward to be begging for your life so soon. I haven’t nearly scared you as much as I could.” The low tone made him shiver, trying to squirm away from the captain's gaze.

“Either that or you’re extremely naive. I don’t think you know who’s ship you’re on.”

The captain stood, untying his blade once more, and pressed the sharp edge to Julian's neck.

They stared at each other, Julian's eyes wide with fear and desperation. He swallowed again, feeling the point press into his neck in a way that he felt familiar with. It might not have been the smartest idea to hint that he had a thing for pain.

“I am Captain Cecil Doran.” The pirate spoke down to him. Julian’s blood ran cold. He'd heard of this man. Whispers of his name in seaside taverns and warnings of his ship in the distance. He had never gotten a glimpse before. Julian struggled to comprehend it. He hadn’t expected someone who’s name was coated in dirt and blood to be so... clean? Beautiful? Not an eighty year old pirate with a parrot and a cutlass?

Cecil's chuckle caught his attention once more, and Julian spared a glance up.

“There’s that look. You’ve heard of me, haven’t you?”

Julian nodded wordlessly. The look in Cecil’s eye was animalistic. Like he was savouring the way Julian shivered and whimpered when he pressed the sword harder against his throat. The silence between them was thick enough to be cut through. Any movement from Julian could be fatal. A clumsy slip and he'd be bleeding out. Would his mark be able to repair veins and capillaries? For once, Julian wasn’t keen to find out.

Cecil opened his mouth. But the noise of shouts and thuds interrupted whatever he was about to say. The sword was yanked away and he looked over to the door. Pained yells echoed through the wood, and Julian watched Cecil’s eyes narrow at the sound.

In a split second, the cutlass had been slashed and Julian’s bonds were undone. He pulled his hands free, rubbing his sore wrists as confusion laced his features. A sword was thrown at his chest. Cecil was already on the other side of the room, hand pressed on the door, ready to leave.

“Prove that you can be useful, and I might let you stay.”

The ship outside the room had fallen into chaos. There was no easy way of telling who was from which crew. Julian could only identify the ones swinging over to hop on board as ‘the bad guys’. Even then, they melted into the fight quickly. The sound of metal clashing was almost louder than the shouts filling the air. Blood spilled quickly, and Julian watched the action with a tight knot in his throat.

A glimpse of Cecil caught his attention. The captain was in a spur with one of the attackers, and was clearly winning. The slashes looked light and easy when he gave them. It was sword-fighting. Intense and threatening and close – and then Cecil did something.

He lunged forwards and grabbed the man by the neck. It should have been a fool’s move, he easily could have been stabbed or thrown off. But the man trapped in his grip began to scream in agony, and Julian saw blood spill over Cecil’s hands. When his hand pulled back, there were deep burns around the man’s neck, so far into the flesh that blood had been drawn. The man fell to the ground weakly, clutching his neck and rasping as Cecil moved on.

There was no more time to watch. A yell from the left, and Julian was flung into a fight of his own. He barely dodged a swipe to his chest, gripping the sword tightly. Julian raised the sword he’d been given and struck, slashing into the attacker's side as they turned to face him. They gave a groan, but persisted and went for him again. The swords clashed over and over, and Julian’s battles were soon merged with the rest of the crew. Attack after attack, brawls and shouts and cuts and bruises until they were finally overpowering them, finally getting the upper hand. Julian struck a pirate in the leg and as they collapsed, he heard it.

“RETREAT, GET BACK, GET BACK-"

The crew showed no mercy. Even as they ran, they were tackled and cut and thrown about by the crewmates still capable of fighting. By the end of the fight, more attackers were lying on the deck than were retreating to their own.

The ships separated quickly. It was then that Julian caught sight of Cecil again. Standing at the edge, practically coated in blood. He wondered how much of it was actually his own.

When the opposing ship was a speck in the distance, the captain turned and looked at the groaning, writhing morsels with a grimace. He limped forwards.

“Throw them overboard. All of them. We've got no room for pathetic fighters.” Cecil grunted, apathy lacing his tone. He headed for the helm, no doubt to go hide in the captain’s quarters and patch himself up.

But Julian still needed to know if he could stay. And with injuries like those? Even infamous pirates weren’t safe from Julian’s martyr tendencies. He followed quickly, catching up to Cecil just as the man ducked into the door below the helm.

The door shut behind them. They were alone once more. Cecil looked back, eyes narrowed at Julian.

“You’re following me now? You really are desperate to live.”

Julian swallowed his pride and ignored the jabs. There were bigger things to deal with here.

“You’re injured. Badly. I told you, I’m a doctor, I can-"

“Shut up.” Cecil hissed, stumbling through another door. Julian followed.

The room he found himself in was much more well-kept than his previous experience. It was a long room, split into two halves by a thick red curtain. From what he could see, the walls were lined with shelves covered in trinkets and treasures. There was a window on the right wall, a view of the sea stretching for miles. The light shone down onto a desk, covered in maps and papers and neatly stored ink bottles. The desk had boxes beneath it, filled with glass bottles of exotic colours and little jars of herbs and foreign spices. The left wall had the collection of trinkets, as well as a few darts lodged into the wall in various places.

Cecil collapsed into one of the wooden chairs by the desk, blood dripping off his skin and sinking into the floor boards. He glared as Julian approached.

“Did I say you could come in?” He snarled, but Julian took no notice.

The doctor glanced around the room. There didn’t seem to be a great deal of options in terms of medical supplies. His gaze fell back to the captain.

“Do you have anything I can wipe the blood off with?”

Cecil’s eyebrows raised for a moment, and his lip twitched, but his face remained just as cold and bitter as it was when the attack started.

“Why? So you can hope to win my approval with care and attention? I already said, there’s no room on this ship for pa-"

“So I can clean your wounds and assure you don’t die, captain.” Julian interrupted. For an infamous pirate captain, he really had no common sense. It was a wonder he'd survived this long.

“There are healers on board. I don’t need a doctor.” He snapped back. “The more you piss me off, the more I want you to join the bodies going overboard. So, please, keep talking.”

Julian rolled his eyes. If Cecil wouldn’t listen to reason, maybe he’d respond to force. There were a lot of ways to do this. Sedate him? Seduce him? The possibilities were endless. If Cecil was as injured as Julian thought he was...

He took the risk. Moving quickly, Julian towered over the chair and placed two firm hands onto Cecil’s shoulders. As he thought, the man quickly shot up and headbutted him.

They both recoiled, groaning in pain as Cecil sunk back into the chair and Julian grabbed his nose. Blood trickled from under his fingers and he heard Cecil give a weak scoff.

“Didn’t work out like you planned?” He snarked. Julian shook his head.

“Actually, it worked out perfectly. Judging by your posture,” He gestured to Cecil's limp body, “You just gave yourself a concussion.”

There was a silence. And then, slowly, Cecil groaned and dragged a bloodied hand over his face. He grimaced, glaring daggers at the doctor's smug grin.

“You should bleed more. It’s a great look for you.”

Julian smirked. “Don’t tempt me, captain.”

Satisfied that Cecil wouldn’t be able to fight back for a small while, Julian approached once more. He pulled the captain up, helping him walk past the curtains and to the back end of the room – the sleeping area.

It was actually larger than the other half. A large bed was at the end of the room, with deep red sheets and messily placed pillows. There were more shelves, with pictures and paintings and trinkets and ... toys. Julian tried not to pay too much attention to those. He pulled Cecil to the bed and laid him down, wiping the blood on his leggings.

“Now, do I have permission to heal you?” He teased.

Cecil groaned.

“I'll take that as a yes.” And Julian was searching about the room for anything to use as bandages or antibacterial chemicals. There didn’t seem to be much. But a bottle of unopened gin bottle was his best bet at disinfecting any cuts, and a dirty rag was his only shot at cleaning the blood off.

He'd have to make do. After collecting his ‘medical supplies', the doctor returned to the captain. Who had... removed his shirt. Julian flushed. He stopped and stumbled and had to remind himself: infamous pirate captain, infamous pirate captain, infamous pirate captain. Definitely not the type of person to be attracted to. And yet, here he was.

Cecil appeared to notice the change in demeanour. He raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing at his lips.

“Are you enjoying the view?”

Julian jolted. “N-no, I- um.”

The captain laughed. He sat up, and tossed his shirt at Julian's chest.

“Um.”

Julian held the fabric, looking between it and Cecil. He swallowed nervously, hoping to gauge some sort of answer for what the hell was going on.

“You need something to bandage the cuts. Use the shirt. I’ve got others.” He shrugged, sinking back into his bed. Cecil winced.

Okay. Doctor time. Yes. Julian shook himself out of his gay panic and stepped forwards. He rubbed down the blood stains, trying to keep a safe distance. It felt strained. There was a thick tension between them. Well. Cecil didn’t seem to care. He was too busy ogling Julian as he tried to clean up the wounds. It was getting hard to concentrate with his gaze.

But he got it done. With a bit of time and awkward eye contact and tension, Cecil was wrapped up and resting. Julian, gloves bloody, took a step back. He watched the captain breathe shakily, and slowly removed the gloves to clean them. Julian thought that now the chaos was over, it would be best to leave the captain alone. He headed towards the curtain, steps heavy. Cecil’s voice caught him as he left.

“Hey.”

Julian turned. Cecil was smiling at him, sitting up, resting on his elbows.

“You can stay. Only ‘cause you’re cute.” He teased.

With a choked noise, Julian nodded and fled the room – heart racing. He was technically a captive on a pirate ship. Fantastic.

At least the captain was hot.

#my writing #writing #oh god this is #so bad #im so sorry #ha ghf ahfa #julian #julian the arcana #the arcana #the arcana julian #julian devorak #ilya devorak #arcana julian #julian arcana #the arcana mc #julian x mc #julian x apprentice #fan apprentice #the arcana apprentice #pirate au #tw; blood #tw; violence #cecil doran #muses #cecil the apprentice