"Yer Not That Bad"

by val_wowo

Summary:

Flintlocke hasn’t had a day of peace since his significant other and baby-in-the-making were killed. He isn’t sure which crew he was fighting against when it happened despite his nightmares giving clear indications, so he won’t ever be able to avenge them.

Over the years aboard Nadakhan’s ship, he’s seen many things—water, fish, sinking vessels, bloodshed, the usual things you’d see as a pirate. But there was one ship that just kept coming back.

The Destiny’s Bounty. Aboard it were Captain Soto and his crew. They were Misfortune’s Keep’s rival among the waves and islands.

Their captain was the most annoying piece of shit, yet somehow, over time...

Well, that's for you to find out, huh?

 

Or in short, a Bullethookshipping fanfic with lore I made up since the writers gave us nothing.

Rarepairs my beloved.

(HOW DO YOU WRITE SUMMARIES????)

HIATUS!! Not sure for how long, but I'll be back.

Chapter 1: nth Nightmare

The water raged against the hulls, forcing the ship's side to side. Rain poured onto the crews and caused them to slip and slide across the decks. Lightning struck the salty ocean yet instigated no fear. Swords clashed, cannons fired, wood splintered, screams heard.

A gun came into view and fired, knocking down a crewmate on the other side. Spinning ‘round and ‘round, bullets pierced through opposers.

Everything came to a stop when a woman, dark hair tied into a loose bun, clothes tattered, was approached by a bullet to her side.

Her familiar cry rang out through the air before the gun could even raise at the foe. She stared at the wound. She smiled with blood pouring out of her mouth and side. The scene drowned in her blood, washing everyone away.

She looked up and spoke,

"You weren’t fast enough.”

The words echoed in the room, causing the line of sight to spin frantically.

“For either of us.” When the woman came into view again, she held her hand to her stomach and an orange figure loomed over her.

No.

No!

A hand reached out to her, trying to stop the thing from hurting her anymore, but she took steps back, engulfing herself in the strange specks. Fast steps took off towards the orange and ran inside, but she was no longer there.

She was gone.

“And it’s all your fault,” A voice whispered from behind.

It went black before he could even turn.

 🫳

  🩸

Flintlocke woke in a cold sweat and sat up in his swaying hammock. The ship rocked gently as the sun rays seeped through the windows. He brought his hand to his forehead, shutting his eyes tightly.

 

What the hell was that?

 

Of course. Another nightmare. It’s all he ever seemed to be getting out of sleep these past few years.

But why does it always have to be about her? He doesn’t want to keep reliving his greatest mistake over and over again.

A bucket dropped and clattered on the deck above. A gasp was followed by a scream, which led to yelling. That was his cue to stop moping. 

Chapter 2: Hazy Day

Summary:

Flintlocke forgets most of the dream while getting ready.

He sorts out some issues.

The crew is under attack.

😜

Flintlocke dragged his hand down his face, the majority of the dream out of his brain by now. He got himself out of his hammock, quickly yet lazily putting on his multi-colored jacket, helmet with goggles connected, green shawl, leather buckles and thigh holsters, the ship’s emblem, and lastly, his gloves.

He picked his guns up from a desk, dusted them off, and placed them in their holsters. As he made his way to the door, he sighed in preparation for the next few days.

ರ⁠_⁠ರ

“F-F-F-F-Flintlocke! Could y-y-y-y-y-you tell Monkey W-W-W-W-Wretch–"

“Monkey Wretch, quit spillin’ oil all o’er the deck. Take yer tinkerin’ somewhere else,” Flintlocke cut in.

The metal monkey screeched angrily, but he did end up picking up his gadgets and moved somewhere else.

“T-T-T-Thank you, Flint-l-l-locke. I don’t know w-w-what I’d do witho-o-out you,” Clancee thanked. Flintlocke took the appreciation with a nod. It looked like Clancee was about to say something else, but the commander turned away before the snake could stutter up a storm.

Flintlocke walked over to the railing, resting his forearms on it. He watched as the ever-changing waves crashed onto the ship and against each other. The sun was tucked behind light clouds, just at the right angle to cast a glowing orange hue onto the clouds, giving the sky a heavenly tone. The sky and water combined made him feel good.

Sadly, the peace was interrupted by Doubloon getting backed into the railing beside him. Doubloon’s face shifted from a smile to a frown as a double-chained mace rammed into the wood in between them. Flintlocke pushed himself away from the flying pieces of splintered wood. 

“Keep still, you son of a–!” Dogshank stopped herself when she met her commander’s eyes.

“What’s goin’ on,” Flintlocke asked with his arms crossed over his chest. Doubloon stood behind the other in case Dogshank tried anything.

“That two-faced dickhead broke one of my favorite toys,” she yelled.

“Hey, now calm down, Buttercup.” He turned to Doubloon. “Apologize to the lady.”

Doubloon’s face didn’t change – couldn’t change to anything but anger or a smile – yet he felt his wide eyes. His hands spoke for him, fingers curling slightly as he waved his hands around, pointing at Dogshank on many occasions. At the end of his fit, he stomped his foot, crossed his arms, and turned his head away from the two pirates.

“Now now, don’t be salty ‘bout this.” He looked at Dogshank. “Didja do something?”

“...”

He took the silence as a yes.

“Figure it out yer selves. I trust that ya can do it without breaking anythin’ major.”

With that, he walked away. In the background, he heard Dogshank leap at Doubloon, missing him barely based on the click of her tongue as Doubloon ran past the commander.

“Monkey Wretch, fix up the rail,” Flintlocke shouted. The metal monkey screamed back, quickly making its way to the broken railing and hammering away.

The commander strolled across the deck for a while, absent-mindedly making sure everyone was doing their part. In the corner of his eye, he saw Cyren and Norine chatting. It seemed like Norine was nagging the older woman rather than talking, to be honest. Must be about girl things.

As his walk came to a stop, he stared at the sky again. The clouds had drifted away, leaving the scorching sun to shine down on everyone. Not even the cool air of the surrounding water was helping.

Suddenly, the warning bell clanged multiple times in a rush. “Ship incoming!” Before Flintlocke could even turn, he heard the hiss of an oncoming stone ball. He barely had time to get out of the way before it crashed into the deck where he was.

How the hell did it reach the ship so fast? Very few ships have cannons powerful enough to shoot so far, one of them being–

“Destiny’s Bounty! Destiny’s Bounty is attacking!”

Of course, it’s them. Flintlocke rolled his eyes, flicked his goggles down, pulled out his guns, and ran towards the fight.

 

Notes:

There may not be another chapter for a week due to some issues, but I'll try my best, trust.
Sorry in advance ;3
Also, Norine may or may not be important later on 🙂

Chapter 3: Average Day in the Life of a Pirate (but not really)

Summary:

Fighting's happening all around.

Flintlocke chases the enemy captain.

He fails, but not really, then fails again.

The crew of Misfortune's Keep getting confused.

Notes:

hah, jk. HERE'S ANOTHER CHAPTER!! The idea came flooding in and it helped me calm down.
Yippee for both me and you readers! :3

Shots were fired rapidly at one another, swords shook at the impact of hitting one another, bodies fell with screams of agony. Both crews were on each other’s ships slashing and shooting at each other. None of this was new, so Flintlocke wasn’t phased by the blood nor the minor cuts the opposing crew had dealt to him.

In the corner of his eye, he saw that stupidly oversized captain hat with its bright red feather sticking out, pass him in a flash. Flintlocke spun quickly and shot some dumb crew member who got in the way of killing off the captain. The opposing man fell to the floor with a grunt and realization as his captain ran off to who knows where. Flintlocke began to chase after him, putting one of his guns away to catch up faster.

The captain turned a sharp corner and the commander lost him for a second. In the next, a hard heel kicked at the lateral side of his knee, knocking him down. His gun flew out of his hand and skidded across the deck. He reached for his other gun, but a hand seized his wrists and yanked him back. With a flick of the wrist from the man behind him, a knife was pressed against his gut, slowly dragging to his chin. The knife angled upward, and Flintlocke was forced to look into the eyes of the enemy captain.

“My my, you were caught so easily, Flinty,” Captain Soto teased, tapping the blade against the downed man’s jaw. “It’s a surprise coming from you. You’re always so quick to sto–”

Soto was interrupted by the swift movement of Flintlocke’s calf colliding with his ankle. He stumbled forward, barely catching himself before the other gripped his latest treasure – his coat – with his hands over his head and behind him, threw him over his shoulder, and slammed him into the wooden floor, face first. Soto let out a heavy grunt and the blade he had glided away. He felt warmth run down his nose. He blinked a few times, getting rid of the stars he was seeing, then saw the drops of red below him. Great, yet another bloody nose. First the heat, now this.

Before he could fully gather the rest of his thoughts, a gun pressed against the back of his head, he heard the gun was cocked back and knew the best thing to do was not get his brains splattered against the floor. Unfortunately, he didn’t know how to do that.

“Ya got me pretty good there, Flinty.”

“Shut the hell up.”

“I think ya broke my nose.”

“Are ya tryin’ to die?”

 

“Ooh~ Someone’s a little feisty today, huh?” Soto turned his head slightly to glance at the other man. “You won’t be able to kill me anyway.”

“You sure are full of yerself.” Flintlocke leaned down and pressed the gun against the downed man’s forehead with a slight smirk, his long handlebar mustache raising in one direction. “You know I never miss.”

“Flintlocke, now’s not the time to be flirting with the enemy,” Dogshank yelled. It seemed like both crews stopped fighting when she finished. They all stared at each other then at the captain and him. Flintlocke froze up with a red face.

“We weren’t–!”

A heel crashed into his jaw and caused him to fall onto his rear. Just like that, everything resumed. Flintlocke shook his head and got up quickly, tripping over his feet due to the sudden wave of dizziness.

 

Soto caught him with a grin as if he was waiting for him to fall.
“Aw, we weren’t?” Soto faked a look of disappointment yet his grin never faltered. “That’s a shame.”

Flintlocke’s brows furrowed together as he scowled at the other.

“Don’t get so mad, Flinty. Yer gonna get wrinkles early.” He brought his thumb to the center of Flintlocke’s brows, smoothing them out. Irritation built up rapidly. “Too late for that though.”

Before Soto could get a laugh out, Flintlocke smashed his helmet into his face, the metal causing his nose to crunch. The force was immense, so just like that, he was out.

The captain fell to the floor gracelessly, landing on his side, nearly on his stomach with one arm behind his back and the other sticking out the back. Flintlocke couldn’t even take in the oddity of the position before his captain, Nadakhan the Djinn, appeared beside him in a poof.

“All this happened while I was in my quarters,” He circled his commander. “–Good job, Flintlocke.”

“Thanks, Cap’in,” Flintlocke nodded.

The crewmates of Misfortune’s Keep began to cheer while those of Destiny’s Bounty began to slip away. However, the cheering was cut short by the sharp call of a bird. Everyone’s eyes flicked to its source, seeing a man with two eyepatches dragging his captain away.

“Right,” the bird called out.

The blinded man turned left and nearly tripped over his foot.
“No, your other right!”

The man moved in the opposite direction. Everyone seemed to be watching him as if he were some circus animal. Good thing he’s blind, right?

“Jump! Jump!”

“Oh come on. I’m not doin’ that. I’ve told you before!” The man shook his fist at nothing.

The crewmates of the opposing side went to help him out, picking their captain up and taking him back to the ship. Within seconds, their ships finally passed each other, leaving everyone confused.

 

Chapter 4: Pain and Realization

Summary:

Soto wakes up.

His crew checks on him.

Soto worries and has a thought.

He kicks them out and thinks.

Notes:

I don't really like this chapter. :(

Yes, I used usual a lot in a paragraph. It was on purpose.

When Soto woke up, he immediately felt a migraine coming on. He brought the heel of his palm to his eyes, pulling it away when another type of pain came through.

Was his face bruised?

He sat up from his bed and saw he was in his quarters.

How did he get here? Last he remembered, he and Flintlocke were talking with each other, messing around like usual. Well, it was usually one-sided, but Flintlocke actually smiled when talking to him. Even if it was a smirk, that wasn’t very usual.

The next memory was… so that’s why his face is throbbing in pain.

Soto groaned and No-Eyed Pete crashed in.

“G’ morning, Cap’in! I heard ya get up. Are ya feelin’ any better?”

Soto stared at him dumbfoundedly. “You… heard me? How the hell were you able to hear me get up?”

“The crew’s worried, so we waited by yer door.” He pointed behind him and that’s when he noticed his crew standing outside his door.

“Ya look sickly, Cap’in,” one of them yelled.

Soto turned his head to the mirror in his room. From a distance, he saw a slight purple on his face. Panic settled in. His eyes widened, and he quickly cut it back because of the pain.

“No, no, no.” He got up from his bed and ran to the mirror. “My face!” His hand made its way to the side of his face as he stared in pure horror. “I look horrendous.”

“I wouldn’t think otherwise, Cap’in. That was a nasty-sounding hit the commander landed on ya,” a crewmate in striped pants said while standing beside him. The rest of the crew slowly made their way inside Soto’s quarters. “Besides, it might look cool once it’s all healed up.”

Soto groaned again. “Ya don’t know that. It could look like the underside of an Ahuizotl!”

“That don’t even exist,” a crew member with yellowed teeth spat out.

“Ya never know in all this water we got,” Soto said in a matter-of-factly tone.

“Why’re so worried about what ya look like anyway, Cap’in? It’s not like it matters in the slightest. I can’t even see you,” No-Eyed Pete asked.

He was right. Why did he even care about what he looked like? When his nose heals, it’d be crooked at best, but it’d give him a tale to tell. Not a very interesting one, sure, but he’d make it work. So why?

The first reason that came to mind was that he’d look ugly. Just because he’s a pirate doesn’t mean he has to be ugly. Still, that wasn’t a valid reason. No-Eyed Pete got his eyes gouged out some years back and while it was nasty for a long while, he didn’t let the way it looked bother him. Probably because he became blind and wasn’t able to see anything, but still, his other members had yellowing teeth, an eye gone, or scars showing freely, yet he had barely anything to show for his role. Yes, he had his fair share of scars, but he wasn’t going to show off his body for others to see.

The second reason was–

Wait what? What was he doing as a reason? They don’t see each other for months on end and when they do, they fight. That’s what happens when you’re on opposite sides.

“Get out. The whole lot of ya,” Soto said under his breath.

The crew looked at their captain and then at each other. There were looks of confusion before Soto told them again but in a different, demanding way.

“Get. Out.”

They all left the room without a retort, leaving Soto with his thoughts. It was unlike him to speak in this tone towards them.

Why did Flintlocke come to his mind of all people? Flintlocke! The commander of Misfortune’s Keep, second in command (like he’d ever become captain because Nadakhan is what, almost immortal?), on his rival of the oceans, seas, and somehow lands ship.

Sure the guy was a strong leader when their captain would be busy with something else, he helped his crewmates almost instantly after every battle he’s seen, he’s got perfectly black hair with no sign of aging (unlike his face), a mustache that should render him hideous but it didn’t. Only that guy could pull it off, especially with the stubble going from the side of his jaw to above his Adam’s apple, and his–

What the hell?

How was he able to notice so much?

Did he swing that way?

Did he really–?

He shook his head, immediately regretting it, and dragged himself back to bed, dropping and laying there on his back, staring at the ceiling. Soto’s eyebrows crinkled together as he questioned himself.

The ship swayed gently with the waves, a large contrast to the rush in his head. For the next few hours, he lay there, realizing every single small thing he noticed about his rival.

 

 

Notes:

I have so many ideas.

How am I gonna get to them?

.⁠·⁠´⁠¯⁠`⁠(⁠>⁠▂⁠<⁠)⁠´⁠¯⁠`⁠·⁠.

Chapter 5: With Land Comes Pain

Summary:

Time has passed.

Flintlocke still hasn't gotten proper rest.

Land!

Ouch.

Notes:

Take this mini chapter because I feel bad for not posting (despite it being only what, a week? Less??)

Next chapter will be longer, trust 😭🙏 I have ideas, I just need to write the in-between.

 

The usual sounds were heard aboard Misfortune’s Keep.

Yelling, clanging, thumping, clashing. Flintlocke had been staring out into the open sea like he had been for the past few months. The same nightmare, being shown in different ways, yet overall the same message, hadn’t given him a rest.

 

“You weren’t fast enough.”

 

“It’s your fault.”

 

“You failed both of us.”

 

“It’s all your fault.”

 

“It’s all your fault.”

 

The words rang out every minute he wasn’t occupied with his duties. Luckily, the mate who watches out for anything potentially dangerous, full-on dangerous, or land, rang the bell and yelled, “Land!” Everyone shot up. “Land ‘bout twenty clicks ahead!”

Sighs of relief went around, including from Flintlocke, as the lookout continued to provide information for everyone. The members ran about, preparing for their arrival at land after a prolonged journey.

The way to land seemed to quicken for every person due to excitement. Land at last! Many of the members had injuries that still needed certain treatment, some just missed the feel of solid, unwavering ground. Flintlocke just needed a break. Seven months on the same limited area with the same people at almost every hour of the day with nothing more than a three-hour, nightmare-filled break every thirty-six hours is exhausting. Hopefully, he’d finally catch a good break and night’s rest while on a partial break. Unfortunately, he still had to make sure nobody did anything mindlessly.

The winds were on Flintlocke’s side that day, pushing itself into the ship’s sails, propelling the vessel toward the land faster, cutting the time nearly in half an hour. Everyone was ready to hop into the last few feet from the dry land, so they did when the time came. Bodies dropped into the open water voluntarily. The shallow, blueish water splashed onto one another, an occasional scream being let out due to a droplet of two getting in one's eye, as they all made their way to the sandy surface.

As Flintlocke stepped onto the sand, it took so much not vocally to thank the Fist Master for this fortune.

The tanned grains of sand squished underneath the soles of the shoes pleasantly as he walked with those who jumped into the water. The ship made it to shore around twenty minutes later. Members climbed back up or down, bringing items, hammocks, covers, and whatnot to the beach. Dogshank carried most of the things, tossing them onto the sand and nearly hitting nearby people. They cursed at her, and she cursed back at them tenfold. Doubloon was taking trinkets some of the crew had before getting chased by them around the new land. Clancee was still on the ship, waiting for the ship to be completely secured before climbing down. Water’s never been his thing. It was almost peaceful.

Almost.

Monkey Wretch was throwing all his tools down aimlessly. Someone yelled in pain, causing Flintlocke to turn and see one member on the sand, holding their shin to their body as they rolled in the sand. A pair of large pliers lay beside them. He looked above to yell at the dumb monkey, but the only thing he saw was an incoming mallet.

Incoming to his direction.

To his face.

Then it hit him.

 

∑(ΦдΦlll

 

 

Notes:

Then my head hit the wall.

BANG‼️

Chapter 6: The New Land

Summary:

Flintlocke wakes up.

Him and two others talk.

He goes into the jungle for safety measures.

He finds cool things.

He tries to take something.

Not again.

Notes:

here you, 1096 words in 24 hours!

The chapters are hopefully gonna be longer from here on out.

...

Maybe.

When Flintlocke woke up, the sun was setting.

He found himself in a hammock tied between two trees, perfectly spaced apart. It swayed gently in the breeze, rocking him side to side. It would’ve been peaceful if it weren’t for the increasing pain in his face.

He brought his hand to his nose and winced. His face felt like it was on fire. Thankfully, it didn’t seem severe.

Flintlocke sat up, disrupting the calming sway with his sudden movement. Once upright, he took a deep breath with his eyes closed, inhaling the mixed scents of smoke and salt. He turned his body, swung his legs out of the hammock, and opened his eyes to see the crew gathered around the large fire. Some danced, some pushed others toward the flames, and some roasted fish with food they had scavenged from the island while he was unconscious.

Slowly, to avoid the dizziness he had felt four months ago with that idiot of a captain, he carefully got out of the hammock, which he had occupied for what felt like hours based on the position of the sun now.

Clancee was the first one to notice him. Oh, First Master, this was going to add to the headache.

“H-H-Hello, Flint-t-tlocke! I h-h-h-hope you’re okay. That was a-a-a direct hit t-to the f-f-f-f-face!”

“I’m alright, kid.”

Suddenly, Norine jumped in out of nowhere.

“ ‘mmander! You alright,” she asked in nearly a yelling tone. “Monkey Wretch hit ya square in the face!”

“I’ll be fine, ‘rine. It wasn’t that hard of a hit.”

She rolled her eyes, her brows disappearing under her headband for a moment. “Yeah, you bein’ out fer three ‘ours sure wasn’t caused by that hard hard of a hit.”

“T–” Three hours? Flintlocke brought his palm to his face and sighed. “Everyone settled in smoothly?”

“A-A-A-As smooth as a pirate crew c-can get!” Clancee chimed in.

Norine smacked the back of his head and he nearly fell forward. “Yer gonna give ‘m more head pain than he’s already got if ya keep talking.”

“S-S-S–” She glared at him. He didn’t finish his sentence.

“We’ll be headin’ back to the fire now. I saved ya some meat ‘n’ fruit we found ‘bout ‘n ‘our ago. Might still be there if someone hasn’t stolen it.”

Flintlocke nodded. “Sounds good. I’ll be there soon.”

“Great! Feel better, ‘mmander!” Norine waved goodbye and pulled Clancee away with her.

Minus the soreness on his face, he felt a bit better. He always did after talking to the two youngsters (Sometimes. They’re a rowdy duo). Even though they’ve seen things that nobody their age has seen, they still have a sense of innocence to them, and it made him feel a certain way. He wasn’t sure what exactly he felt, but it was nice. Maybe his kid could've been like them if he hadn't failed. If only he hadn't failed. If only. If only.

When we snapped out of his mild overthinking jiff, the two were chasing each other around the fire. While Norine had a small blade. And Clancee looked panicked.

Eh, same old, same old.

Flintlocke raked over the entirety of the scene. Everyone was on the ground now, all seemingly happy. Even Delara who was always more of an ocean person than land seemed to be enjoying it plenty.

As they messed around and basked in the warmth of the fire and each other’s company, Flintlocke spun and walked into the forest. It probably wasn’t a good idea since the light in the sky was nearly gone, but who knows what dangers are on this island?

☆☆☆

This jungle was dense as hell. Yes, there’s supposed to be green and mud everywhere, but man, there seemed to be triple the amount of normal ones. Bushes with thorns that most likely had poison, trees crawling with frogs and snakes which were also probably poisonous, the growl of nearby predators, and dips and cracks in the ground that were getting harder to see by the second.

Within half an hour of walking, any form of light was gone. The smell of smoke from the fire and the sound of cheering and singing were also gone. It was just darkness and silence. It would be comforting if there weren’t dangers in every direction. Every day and night, the only thing he’d hear would be yelling and commotion and he’d usually have to break it up. It was tiring.

☆☆☆

After yet another half an hour, nothing was better. The sounds had gotten louder, something tried to attack him but failed due to a shot through the head, and he’d almost fallen into a slim crevice in the rocky section he had now been on for about ten minutes.

Over time, he’d start seeing strange stone pillars. They were worn with time and moss, stern faces engraved deeply, and small crystals that seemed to replicate buttons. As he continued to walk further in, the pillars only got larger and mossier. The crystals did too, the shine and size seem to have value now.

In one particular clearing, the pillars stood at a good ten to fifteen feet tall. The crystal buttons were enormous, definitely worth quite a sum of money. Flintlocke pulled out a dull baby knife, walked up to the pillar cautiously, and ran his fingers over the carved patterns. Each curve, each line, and each detail was stunning, even with the moss filling most of it.

One certain pillar caught his eye though.

It was the tallest being at around eighteen feet tall, its crystals were a gleaming maroon in the darkness, all of which were different sizes. They were used as face decor, what seemed to be tears, and three buttons starting from the neck to the wait. The buttons were ginormous, so Flintlocke dug his knife into the back to pop it out.

It was a tough one for sure, but— but nothing. This was really hard to get out. 

“Maybe the smaller one'll be easier,” Flintlocke thought.

So he stood on the tips of his boots, carefully reaching for the middle gem. It looked looser, that much he knew, but sometimes they’re tricky.

As he was about to hit the side, he stopped when a footstep squelched in the mud nearby.

Gotta hurry it up.

He pulled out one of his guns and cocked it back, ready for any attack. He brought his arm back and as he swung, a voice yelled,

“WAIT! DON’T HIT THA–”

 

Then everything went white.

 

The voice cut off.

 

Then it went black.

 

 

Chapter 7: An Old Friend and Complications

Summary:

They wake up.

Very awkward tension.

An old friend of the others shows up.

They have to do trial and apparently, it's a bit painful.

Flintlocke spirals, but the other gets him out of it (sorta).

The old friend comes back and walks them.

It's a very awkward walk, but the friend lightens the mood.

Captain Soto woke up with a start, sitting himself up and sending the person on him sliding down from his shoulder to the floor. His eyes went wide.

“Flintlocke?!”

The other man groaned, moving his wrists to push himself up, but his wrists were knotted behind his back. The action made him realize he was also bound.

“What the hell,” Flintlocke uttered as he sat himself up with his knees. “What didja get us into?”

Soto looked at him bewilderedly. “Me? I’m not the one who tried to stab out a gem from a statue,” he retorted. Flintlocke rolled his eyes.

“Fair.”

The two were silent for a few moments. During that time, Soto was absorbing the change of the other's appearance.

His hair was longer, but not by much. His jacket had many small nicks, his scarf, however, was completely untouched. It was never ripped or cut in the years he’s seen him. His eyes seemed to carry more dread than life itself, his stubble was fresh, his gloves had clearly served their purpose, and–

“The hell ya starin’ at?”

Soto snapped out of it.

“That massive bruise on your face. Looks terr’ble.”

“Oh.”

There was another moment of silence. Soto desperately wanted to keep talking, but he found out that he could possibly have more than rival feelings for the other. It was a shock, and he still hasn’t gotten over that thought.

“How’d ya get it? I’d assume it was caused by something ridiculous.” Wow, what a great way to keep up the conversation, Soto. Real great.

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” he responded. His eyes were low beneath his brows as he stared at the floor. His hands fidgeted behind his back, fingers feeling the layered vine rope tied around his wrists. He clicked his tongue when he realized that it was pointless. The rope was annoyingly tied perfectly.

Soto couldn’t help but stare at him. The way his shoulders dropped, the way his arm moved (as much as it could because of the restriction), the way his wrists turned.

Soto pulled himself out of his admiration trance and looked at him as if he was stupid for asking that. “Yes? That’s why I’m asking.” Flintlocke rolled his eyes again.

Before he could respond with something snarky, the door opened. That’s when Soto realized they were in a cage. Much like the one he was in when he was–

The door creaked open, and the two pirates twisted their heads to see who or what it was. A tall figure walked in.

Shit. Screw tall, they were huge. Eight feet tall at most. Their skin was dark blue, adorned with lighter blue marks running down their eyes, chest, arms, and legs. Their hair was heavily parted from the right and shaved from the ear down, most of it being pulled into a tight braid over their shoulder and down to their clavicle. Jewelry with the same gems Flintlocke had tried to take were shaped like perfect diamonds. A pair of earrings, a tight necklace, and a swanky yet rustic cape.

Soto’s eyes widened when they brought their hands up and started–

Signing.

“Toma?!” Soto exclaimed as he stumbled to the edge of the bamboo cage. The figure smiled a sharp, toothy grin down at him.

They moved their hand in a circle by their chest to their face where their middle finger touched their cheek, index finger out, and the others put away, and tapped it once, moving their hand outwards, and pointed at him.

I am glad to see you again, he signed.

“Blimey! It’s been too long,” he exclaimed again. He tried to sign instinctively but to no avail.

Flintlocke stared at the two in shock.

It has. Who is he? They pointed at a very confused Flintlocke.

Soto followed their finger. “Oh.”

“The hell is goin’ on? Ya know this–” Flintlocke looked the tall creature up and down. “–thing?”He said with an undertone (more like overtone) of disbelief.

“I do. Met the guy when I was a youngster. Did the same shit you pulled earlier and got stuck here for ‘bout nine months?” Soto began to ramble about his whole story of getting trapped in this place. As he spoke, Flintlocke’s shoulders dropped.

Nine months? Fuck. It took him that long to escape? The crew would be long gone by next week! Hell, they could be gone in the next few days if Nadakhan kicked out the weakened.

His spiral was evident. Soto had gone silent as he watched the other silently fight whatever was going on inside his head. In the corner of his eye, he saw Toma staring at him confused.

What is wrong with him? He signed.

“I’m not sure… But maybe cut me free so I can sign?” Soto stared up at his old friend with overly pleading eyes. When they started to sign again, he couldn’t understand. Some of this was new.

Toma caught his confusion and began signing letter by letter.

P. H. Y. N. O. S., – he copied the unknown sign – Phynos,  our leader, needs to know you mean no harm.

“What? Why? He did that already!”

Toma shrugged. Something about a change of heart. You don’t know how much a person can change.

Ah.

Soto nodded. “That makes sense.” He turned his head back to Flintlocke and saw that he was still in his bubble. Soto moved a bit closer to the other man and spoke, “Flinty. Are ya okay?”

Flintlocke slowly raised his head and looked him back in the eye. His eyes were dazed with a mix of dejection and distress. “ ‘m fine,” he grumbled.

“No, ya aren’t,” Soto outed bluntly. “Ya look bewildered.”

“Leave it.” Flintlocke turned to the oh-so-tall creature. “Let us go.”

Toma replied with a shake of their head. He began to sign again, but that just left Flintlocke more confused.

“He said we hafta undergo a typa trial. ‘Ve done it before. It’s kinda painful, but nothin’ extreme. They’ll letcha go afterwards.”

“It took ‘em nine months to give ya a trial?”

“Well, I was a kid, so I was real curious. I stayed fer fun.”

Flintlocke stared at him in shock. “What?” Did Soto not have a family to get back to at the time? How could he stay here for over half a year for fun?

“Yeah, it was great! Too bad I had ta go–”

Toma tapped on the bars of the cage. Phynos will see you shortly. I hope you will stay a little longer.They shot a small smile at Soto then walked away.

“What’d it say?” Flintlocke asked, his tone still darkened.

“They said we’ll be seein’ Phynos soon.”

“Who?"

“Oh, right, ya don’t understand ‘em. Phynos is their leader, the head of their tribe. Gonna get our soul’s purity shown or somethin’ along those lines. Can’t remember much.”

The commander stared at the captain, puzzled.

“Soul’s purity? If wer’ good ’r’ true ta heart?”

Soto hummed and stared at the ceiling while trying to recall earlier memories. “ ‘m pretty sure that’s what it was.”

“And if yer heart isn’t in the right place?”

“ ‘m not sure. I was pure enough, so they fixed me up a bit. For the bad ones, they either killed ‘em or converted ‘em.” Soto shrugged. “ ‘m not a hundred percent though. We’re probably gonna die with all the shit that we’ve done, haha!”

As much as Soto wished he was joking, he wasn’t. He’s pulled so much shit, stolen heirlooms, killed people, liking a–

Soto shook his head to shoo the thoughts away. When he glanced back at Flintlocke, his mustache had moved as if he was speaking, but he was too quiet.

“Ya said somethin’?”

“It’s nothin’.”

“Right…”

A few moments later, Toma came back to their holding place.

Time to go, he signed. A type of stone was pressed against where a keyhole was supposed to be, and the cage door clicked open.

The two pirates stood up and walked out the door, one wary, the other seemingly carefree, both having a wave of dread wash over them. The blue giant began to lead them through the darkness.

“So I guess this’ll be the last time we see each other,” Flintlocke muttered, his voice just loud enough to hear.

Soto turned to him, smiled and elbowed him. “Aww, is Flintly getting emotional on me?”

“Hell no. ‘m glad I won’t have to see your face ever again.”

“Hah! My face’ll be the last thing ya ever see.”

“Pssh, I’ll just keep my head down then.”

“I for one don’t mind your face being the last I see.”

“…What.”

“What?”

Realization hit Soto like Flintlocke’s helmet.

“Oh! Haha– Who said that? I’m sure we’re hearing things!” He tried so desperately to laugh it off, praying that he’d leave it alone.

“Uh huh.” Flintlocke had his usual look as he stared at the stuttering mess beside him.

After that, it went silent for a minute. The air was tense, and luckily, Soto’s old friend was there to get rid of it.

Toma hip-bumped Soto, causing him to nearly fall over as their hip reached just below his elbow.

“Ah! Mate, what the hell was that for?!”

Someone is a bit red. The teasing grin on Toma’s face was enough to hear the tone of his nonexistent voice.

“Keep quiet, you!” Soto shoved them back with his shoulder, but the giant didn’t move. He just let out a silent laugh.

The two began to bicker, and the tension began to dissipate.

Flintlocke stared at the two, a small smile forming. They're like siblings.The weird feeling he has felt after Soto said that outrageous statement went to the back of his mind as he enjoyed the bright presence the taller men had.

The impending doom the commander and captain had felt were forgotten, and the air was finally clear.

Notes:

Surprise! I've made OCs for this darn fic... As well as Norine, but like, I made MORE!

Chapter 8: The Trial

Summary:

They head to trial.

Phynos speaks.

The trial happens.

Memories flood back.

Fits were thrown.

Their condition to leave is shared.

Shocked!

Notes:

This chapter is kinda eh to me :(

When the unknown land somehow got darker, the feelings the two had a bit ago began to slide back in. Luckily, tikis that were much taller than the two, began to light a path. It led to a wider area, and wow.

The stone path had smoothed into a wide circle, tikis around the circumference. They lit the stone, and at the furthest point from them stood two large sculptures much like the ones that probably brought them to this place. It was almost alluring the way the small fires brought out so much in the gems and the chiseled stone faces.

 

On either side of both statues stood taller beings. Either held a spear-like weapon. They were on guard, but their stance was almost relaxed.

 

In the center of the busy line was the tallest creature of them all. Their hair was pulled into a similar tight braid, but it reached a foot out after touching the floor. Their skin was an ashy blue compared to the vibrant navy the others had, the lighter marks faded as well. They wore an ivory robe that had the same gems as everything else did, but they seemed to be shaped much nicer. Some were… fused with their skin. It wasn’t a pretty sight.

 

They opened their eyes slowly – their eyes unbelievably large – and studied the pirates.

 

“I see you’ve returned,” he said.

 

“Unwillingly. Someone messed with the middle jewel.” Soto elbowed the shorter man. Flintlocke stepped on his boot and the taller one winced.

 

“No matter. I suppose you remember this process, hm?”

 

Soto nodded. “I do, but Flinty here doesn’t know about it.”

 

The elder glanced at Flintlocke and hummed. “I see. No matter.” He waved his hand dismissively.

 

“Wait, yer not givin’ him an explanation?”

 

The old man groaned. “Soto, kid, I’ve done this so many times. Do you know how tiring this is?” He ambled towards them while pulling out a stone that looked similar to the one Toma had earlier. 

 

Speaking of him, Soto turned his head and saw that Toma had left them alone in the center. He was somewhere on the side watching with eyes full of hope and light bounced off them in a weird way, giving the idea that they were nocturnal.

 

“This will only take a few moments.” The creature towered over the two as he placed a hand on Flintlocke’s shoulder. “So do not fear.”

 

“But doesn’t it hu–”

 

“Oh hush,” he cut off.

 

He brought the stone in the middle of the pirates, flicking it magically into two. Both had a small gem and carving in them. He reached below, placing a stone on each of their foreheads and began to whisper something. Slowly, the leader's irises began to glow into the same red as every jewel. The stones’ gems began to glow with him, and the two pirates tapped out.

 

☆☆☆

 

Blood.

 

Blood on their hands.

 

And a body.

 

The body of their wife.

 

The body of their wife and unborn child.

 

A storm resonated, dark clouds swirling both in their mind and in the sky.

 

Guilt chained them.

 

And stress.

 

Stress was building on top of it all.

 

Breaks and rest barely given.

 

They tried so hard to bury down the feelings, but it came back every night they slept.

 

The key to a peaceful life was tossed into the fierce waters long ago, never to be found again.

 

But, there was another.

 

And it was closer than they thought.

 

☆☆☆

 

Raging oceans.

 

Torn sails.

 

The ship was sinking.

 

And so were their loved ones.

 

Scarlet bled into the littered depths.

 

A barrel kept them afloat in the coldness of the night.

 

One would think someone who has lost everything would begin to mourn right then and there.

 

But no.

 

They saw orange and felt nothing but hate.

 

The need to avenge,

 

The need to get revenge,

 

Was forceful.

 

It drove them for decades on end.

 

Unfortunately, to no avail.

 

The djinn was still alive.

 

Their crewmates aided their hurt, but it wasn’t enough.

 

They needed the djinn dead.

 

But, there was one person.

 

One person on the enemy’s side.

 

Maybe,

 

Just maybe,

 

They’d be able to help a vengeful soul.

 

☆☆☆

 

Reality washed back into them when they fell to the floor. Soto pushed himself off the floor, resting on his knees. Flintlocke sat back with his arms as the only thing holding him up. Both of the pirates were breathing heavily.

 

“Wh–what the fuck…” Flintlocke turned to Soto. “You didn’t say it’d do that!"

 

Soto faced Flintlocke. “I–I don’t remember that happening.”

 

If they weren’t still tied up, Flintlocke would’ve started throwing punches. That didn’t stop him though. He rammed into the other angrily. Soto fell on his side, landing on his elbow wrong. He couldn’t barely let out a wince before Flintlocke started yelling again.

 

“I already live through this shit daily! I didn’t need it to be more vivid than it already was!" His voice was raspy and it seemed like it was almost cracking.

 

“Flintlocke, I didn’t know it would do that! It didn’t do that when I was here last!” Soto sat up again with his injured elbow, almost recoiled in pain, but he fought it back. He craned his neck to look at Phynos. “The hell was that?!”

 

The leader stared down at them with a jarred expression. “Oh my.”

 

Flintlocke joined Soto in staring at him.

 

“The hell do ya mean 'Oh my',” Soto said in a near yelling tone. “Didja change the trial or somethin’ in the time I was gone?”

“No. You’re so affected due to everything you’ve been through. There was much more to judge.” Phynos knelt to level with their faces. “I apologize for the pain.” The look on his face conveyed pity. The pirates stared at the taller.

 

“So…” Soto started. “Are we… in the clear? We don’t have ta die or anythin’?”

 

Phynos let out a loud laugh. “Ha! Heavens no!” He put both hands on the pirates’ shoulder and pulled them up with him. “We don’t do that unless someone is unable to change their ways or if they’re going to end the world.”

 

“Oh! Ya hear that, Flinty? We’re good to go!” Soto playfully bumped into Flintlocke.

 

“I didn’t say that,” Phynos asserted monotonously.

 

Soto’s cheery face dropped. “What?”

 

“You’re staying here like last time.” He glanced at Flintlocke. “Him especially.”

 

“The hell? I’ve got shit to do. I don’t have time to ‘get better’.  Ya better let me leave or else it’s gonna get messy,” Flintlocke threatened.

 

Some of the surrounding guards snickered. Hell, they were right to. Flintlocke had no power against this species whatsoever. They were taller, stronger, and more advanced in a way while his guns were gone, his wrists were tied back, and his brain was all over the place.

 

“You are aware of the situation you’re in, no?” Phynos asked, his eyes glinting with confusion and wonder at the human.

 

Flintlocke grumbled and turned his head to stare at the floor. He barely managed to say ‘yeah’. Soto looked at him dementedly before turning to Phynos.

 

“So when’ll we be able ta leave? We’ve got crews to get back ta.”

 

Phynos chuckled. “You will be able to leave when you two–” He pointed at the two men. “–get along. Genuinely get along.”

“What?!”

Chapter 9: Losing It

Summary:

Flintlocke panics.

Soto calms him down, but picks a fight.

They fight.

Soto gets dizzy.

Toma walks in on a scene.

The friends laugh.

Toma fixes Soto up, judges Soto, leaving him red and Flintlocke confused.

Flintlocke tries to figure out what the jokes were, but Soto dodges it.

I'm too tired to summarize the rest. T_T

Notes:

So, Toma's species is nocturnal, and for some reason, nights are warmer than in the day.

I spent most of my time writing the fight scene, and I'm still not a huge fan of it.

Also, I thought I reached 3k words for the first time, but turns out I accidentally copied a few short paragraphs... It's still very close to my goal, so it's okay!

“This is ludicrous! I can’t stay here forever!”

 

Flintlocke paced back and forth rapidly.

 

Toma had uncuffed them and walked them back, but they took them to a much larger room rather than back to the cage. It was on the side of a thick tree, elevated several feet. It was something like a fancy treehouse.

 

“I’ve gotta get back to the ship, the crew–”

 

“Wooah, slow down, Flinty. It won’t take forever to genuinely get along. We’ve been doin’ that for a long time now if ya think about it.”

 

Flintlocke turned to Soto who was across the room, lying on the edge of their bed. “The hell’re you talkin’ about?”

 

“Y’know, whenever our ships cross paths and we flirt ‘n’ fight. That counts, no?” He pulled his hair tie off, combing through the tight braid with his fingers.

 

Flintlocke’s face curled in confusion and disgust. “Wha– No, that doesn’t count! And flirtin’? Ya call putting knives and guns to each other’s bodies flirtin’? Yer into some nasty shit if that’s whatcha like.”

 

Soto sat up abruptly and slightly winced at the pain in his elbow. “What?! No! That’s not what I–” He groaned and ran a hand down his reddened face. “What I was tryin’ ta get at is that you don’t think those small moments meant somethin’? Anythin’?” There was a look in his eyes that Flintlocke couldn’t quite understand, but they were familiar. Was it curiosity? Hope?

 

Flintlocke couldn’t lie though. They did have some type of connection after all those years ‘flirting’. A type he couldn’t put a name on, and he didn’t want to think about it yet.

 

He turned his back to the captain before mumbling. “Fine, I guess it does count as something.” Behind him, Soto perked up. He raised his voice. “But that doesn’t mean we necessarily got along. I’ll still shoot ya dead if I want ta.”

 

“With what gun? Fight me traditionally. None of that extra stuff or anythin’.”

 

“With that crippled arm of yours? Try again later.”

 

Soto chuckled. “Ho ho! You think I can’t take you with one hand?” He stood up from the bed. “Seems like a challenge, Flinty.”

 

“Won’t be much of a challenge fer me,” Flintlocke said in an amused tone. He began to open and close his hands, readying himself for a fight.

 

“You underestimate me! How typical.” Soto said as he strode to the other and stopped a foot away from him. “Don’t complain when you lose.”

 

“Says the one with a fucked-up nose,” he said with a smirk.

 

Soto laughed. “Ooo, almost hurt me with that one! But hey, it looks pretty cool, no?” He peered into a nearby full-body mirror and checked himself out in full confidence.

 

“Whatever makes ya feel good about yourself.”

 

“How about you make me feel good instead?”

 

A gloved fist hit his side instantly. Soto fell on his ass, winced, and brought his hand to his waist. That was going to leave a nasty bruise.

 

Before Soto could properly sit up, the other threw another blow and hit his face, forcing his head back. He managed to save himself by landing on his forearm, but this was a bad position to be in for a fight. God damn, was he affected by that really, really, bad attempt at flirting?

 

“Get up.”

 

When Soto looked up, he saw that Flintlocke was… grinning? What the hell?

 

“Don’t tell me you lost that easily,” he taunted.

 

His grin was infectious.

 

“You wish.”

 

Soto sat up and began to stand, but the other’s hand grabbed his arm and yanked him up. Before gaining his full balance, he quickly sent his leg to Flintlocke’s ribs, but unfortunately, he caught it.

 

Soto’s face faltered a bit, but he pushed forward and caused both of them to fall to the floor harshly. Flintlocke was caught by surprise as his back hit the wooden floor, and the amount of weight was on him, but he managed to bring himself back from that state and shove Soto off of him.

 

The shorter turned his body and sat up, getting on top of the taller. Soto’s eyes widened as Flintlocke threw another punch aiming at his face, but he hit his wrist, swerving it away. Soto thrust his lower body up and sent Flintlocke tumbling off and over him.

 

The both of them stood up and got back into fighting positions. They stood there for a few moments, both catching their breaths.

 

Oh First Master, please forgive me for thinking about him in this way in this moment.

 

And boy oh boy, was he thinking about the commander strangely.

 

The way Flintlocke’s chest so visibly heaved with every breath because he had taken off his jacket and scarf earlier, the way his veins began to pop out of his forearms, fuck, even his stance was attractive. And First Master, above all, his face. He was clearly irritated, but all Soto could think of was that face on top of him.

 

While Soto was lost in his thoughts, Flintlocke ran forward and rammed his shoulder into his chest. The action knocked him out of his thoughts and back to reality, also causing him to stumble. A heavy “oof” came out of his chest as most of the air from his lungs were forced out.

 

He tried to regain his balance by flailing his good arm around, but Flintlocke reached past his head and yanked hard on his hair, gloves scratching at his scalp briefly.

 

Maybe he shouldn’t have provoked him because ouch! Soto swore he felt sections of hair snap off.

He let out a yelp as he was pulled forward, both from the pain and the sudden proximity breach. The grin that Flintlocke had a minute ago was still plastered on his face.

 

“Playing dirty, ey?” Soto joked while mentally praying that he’d let go of his beautiful hair.

 

“We’re pirates. That’s all we know how ta do,” Flintlocke answered.

 

“Indeed it is,” Soto replied as he dropped low, pulling Flintlocke along, and swiped his leg underneath Flintlocke’s feet.

 

The shorter fell backwards in short-lived shock as Soto began to stand up. With little thought, Flintlocke directed his boot perfectly and struck the other’s chin. While Soto fell back on his butt due to not standing back up in time, Flintlocke saved his fall by placing his hands on the wooden flooring before landing. He pushed himself up and twisted his upper body, planting his hand beside the other, before rotating the rest of his body to kick Soto further back.

 

Soto’s head banged against the floor and First Master, he didn’t dare to move instantly. His head was spinning. He laid there for a second, enjoying the little time he had to rest as he took in as much air as he could. Before he knew it, Flintlocke was up again and scrambling to his feet.

 

“Is that all ya could do?”

 

“J–just give me a second,” Soto panted and raised his pointer finger. “Fightin’ while tryna keep one arm from moving proves to be more difficult than I thought.”

 

Flintlocke scoffed and crossed his arms. “Some cap’in you are.”

 

“Hey!” Soto wheezed. “I’m a great captain! You try fightin’ with a bad arm!” He pointed angrily at the standing pirate. After his mini-outburst, he dropped his hand to the floor, a loud thunk sound being brought out from its impact and shut his eyes.

 

“Don’t tell me yer that exhausted.”

 

Footsteps neared Soto, so he opened his eyes and saw that Flintlocke was standing beside him with his hands on his hips. He was staring down at the worn-out captain in annoyance.

 

“C’mon, get up.”

 

“I think I’ll stay still for a bit, thank ya very much.”

 

Flintlocke clicked his tongue and bent over, grabbed Soto’s sleeves, and yanked him up. Soto’s head snapped up after his body, causing it to hurt even more than it already did. He groaned and brought his hand to his forehead as he stumbled forward. Flintlocke was caught by surprise and took a step back when he took hold of Soto.

 

And then Soto lowered his head onto the other’s shoulder. This took both of the men by surprise, but while Soto didn’t have the physical strength to push himself off (like he wanted to), Flintlocke froze in place.

 

At that same moment, the door abruptly opened. Flintlocke turned his head instantly, not letting go of the downed man. If anything, he held him tighter. A familiar figure walked into the room, and froze in their tracks when they saw the scene. When the commander tightened his grip, Soto forced his head to raise slightly, and barely saw over Flintlocke’s shoulder. His eyes widened as he froze too.

 

Am I interrupting something? Toma signed with a confused expression, but it quickly changed into a grin. A shit-eating one.

 

Soto forced his hand through the space between Flintlocke’s arm and torso and began to sign back. He shifted his palm up and moved it up and down, then pointed at Toma, then spelled out the last word. He hoped Toma would understand since he was unable to use his other hand.

 

Maybe you are.

 

Toma gasped and put a hand over their mouth. They fanned their face exaggeratedly with an eye roll before signing, Oh my! My apologies.

 

Soto snorted while Flintlocke stared at them both confused.

 

“What’re you two talkin’ about?”

 

“Oh, nothing important,” Soto brushed off.

 

“Sure don’t seem like it, but yer laughing.”

 

His obliviousness made the two crack up even more. Soon enough, Soto and Toma dropped to the floor in breathless laughter. The joke wasn’t even that funny, but with the company of a close friend and a clueless man, it was gratifying.

 

☆☆☆

 

Soto whistled a tune while kicking his feet as Toma wrapped his elbow with an unfamiliar leaf. The side that touched his arm had a mix of many things that formed into a sticky paste. Flintlocke leaned against a pillar with his arms crossed near the bed the others were sitting on.

 

Once Toma finished, they motioned, Done. Good? Soto moved his injured arm around a bit, and it had already started to feel better. However, it was only the outside that was feeling better. Whatever he landed on earlier, the inside area was messed up pretty badly.

 

“Yeah, but whatever I hurt internally hurts real bad,” Soto revealed.

 

Toma’s eyebrows raised as they brought their finger up and shook it up and down. They popped open a side pocket and pulled out a small vial. The liquid inside swirled with green and blue, and overall? It looked like it tasted like shit. They handed it to Soto.

 

Drink it.

 

Soto grimaced. “Seriously?” Toma nodded.

 

He sighed and twisted the cork, popping it off easily. Luckily, it didn’t smell that bad. He brought it up and clinked it against nothing.

 

“Bottom’s up!” He downed it in one gulp before tossing the empty vial aside. Thankfully, it didn’t taste as bad as it smelled nor looked.

 

Toma patted Soto’s head a few times before getting up. You’re all set.

 

“Oh, okay. G’ morning’  then.”

 

Toma nodded their head and headed for the door, but paused and stared at Flintlocke.

 

“What?” Flintlocke asked.

 

Toma sighed and turned to Soto. I can not believe that guy is your type.

 

Soto sputtered, “B–but, hey! I never said that!” His face grew red at the comment, but Toma left hurriedly before Soto could yell another word.

 

He groaned and fell backwards, his fall cushioned by the softened mattress topper.

 

“What’d they say?”

 

“Nothin’ important.”

 

Flintlocke clicked his tongue. “Yer annoying as hell. Ya clearly were makin’ fun of me in some way, and I’d like to know what it was exactly.”

 

Although that reaction is completely normal, Soto didn’t expect it from him. Flintlocke seemed like the type of guy to not care so much.

 

“Erm… Well…” Soto tilted his head to see Flintlocke’s expression, and he was dead serious. Damn it. “It was just uh… Man! We should probably get to sleep!” Please drop it, I know it’s related to you and you have every right to know, but drop it.

 

Flintlocke stared at him with a tired expression, seemingly because of the other’s bullshit and today’s events. “Fine, be like that.” He scoffed and trudged to the hammock that slung at the perfect height. He kicked off his boots and settled in.

 

“You don’t want the bed?” Soto asked.

 

“No.”

 

“Are ya sure? It’s more comfortable.”

 

“Shut the hell up.”

 

With that, Soto stopped talking. He kicked off his shoes, took off his coat, hung it, and got in bed. The two men stared at the ceiling for a while, not knowing they were doing the same thing, but eventually, Flintlocke fell asleep.

 

☆☆☆

 

Over an hour passed, but Soto couldn’t sleep. All he could think about was the sleeping man two meters away and the fact that it was extremely cold. The sun shone through the window, yet everything was silent both inside and outside. That’s what happens when a whole tribe is nocturnal, he supposes.

 

The bed was alright, the pillows weren’t warming up, and the blanket wasn’t thick enough to hold warmth.

 

Maybe he could…

 

No!

 

That’s such a bad idea.

 

Getting in a hammock with someone already in it? That’s one, going to wake Flintlocke up, and two, it would most likely break from the weight. Then again, they were built to hold people above Toma’s height, so surely it’d hold. He didn’t rethink about the possibility of waking the man up.

 

Without a second thought, Soto slid out of bed with the sheet blanket wrapped around him, and carefully tip-toed to the hammock. He stopped a foot away from it and gazed at the commander. He was sleeping, yeah, but isn’t that supposed to mean you’re resting? It didn’t look like Flintlocke was resting at all. His face was somehow meaner than usual. Tense even.

Warily, he pulled the side of the swinging bed down and got in. Unfortunately, hammocks move around a great deal. When he managed to somehow lay inside, he was shoved out, but caught by the collar of his shirt.

 

“What the hell’re you doin’?!”

 

“Haha– Um! I kinda.. Er– got cold?” Soto panicked. “This place is very cold! Yes, yes, very cold. It’s interesting how this realm is. It’s cold in the morning and warmer at night. Weird, right?”

 

Flintlocke nearly dropped Soto at the revelation.

 

“...Realm?”

 

“Oh, yeah, we’re in a different realm. Forgot to tell ya that, my bad!”

 

Flintlocke tugged Soto back up absent-mindedly and kept the grip on his shirt as he began to feel overwhelmed once more.

 

All these new things… It was so out of proportion of what he was used to. It was: wake up, get dressed, make sure nothing is out of the ordinary, order people to do things, have the occasional battles against other crews, stare at the ocean, play Scrap ‘n’ Tap, get a few hours of patchy sleep, then do it all over again. First Master, this made his head hurt.

 

The overwhelming feeling was radiating off of him, and Soto didn’t know what to do.

 

What is one supposed to do when someone’s affected by news this bad?

 

“Er… Flinty, ya doin’ alright? ‘M sorry fer dropping an info bomb on ya like that.” He gently placed his hand on the other’s shoulder and squeezed it lightly.

 

There was no sound, and the only movement was the light sway of the hammock.

 

☆☆☆

 

Some time passed, maybe two minutes, maybe five, but to Soto, it felt like an eternity. His eyes were forcing themselves shut, but he kept them open. He couldn’t leave Flintlocke conflicted the rest of the night because of his sudden news, and on top of that, the poor guy doesn’t know what the jokes centered around him were.

 

☆☆☆

 

He was just about ready to give into sleep after what was definitely over an hour, but Flintlocke finally moved. Soto snapped up from his sunken posture and spun his head to see the other lie down on his side, his back facing him.

 

“Um, Flinty?” It barely came out as a whisper, but it never felt louder. “Ya going to sleep?”

 

He received a gruff huff in response. That action made Soto relax a bit.

 

At least he wasn’t ignoring him.

 

Soto drew the blanket that he brought over himself and the other, then placed the thicker one on top. Once he deemed that Flintlocke was tucked in well enough, his brain switched to his original goal: to warm up next to Flintlocke. Though, he didn’t think it through in the time he was sitting next to him. That goal meant cuddling.

 

 

 

His face warmed at the thought, but he shoved it down.

 

He was already here and has been for an hour, so surely Flintlocke was used to his presence by now. Surely.

 

So, he took a shot at it. He lowered himself slowly beside Flintlocke, resting his head a bit over his shoulders. He held his breath, waiting for the other to do something: flinch, curse him out, shove him, punch him, but none of that happened. He didn’t even freeze up. Instead, it felt like he leaned into him.

 

Soto dismissed it as him seeing and feeling things due to how tired he was.

 

Suddenly, his brain flushed out. It was empty, and all caution was no more. He slipped his good arm underneath Flintlocke’s waist, and placed his almost better arm over him. Soto snuggled closer, entangling his legs with the others, taking in the moment because surely this would never happen again.

 

With the warmth of the blankets, the man he held close to him both metaphorically and literally, and the drowsiness weighing down on him, he managed to fall asleep within a minute.

Notes:

Now... How's Flintlocke feeling about this?

Chapter 10: A Dream And Fireworks

Summary:

They fall asleep.

A calm dream.

He wakes.

The other wakes.

They get outta bed and Toma walks in at the wrong time again.

Market!

Instinct.

Market!

Notes:

Woah!! I'm back two months later!! Sorry guys, school got tough T_T

Get the hell off, is what he wanted to say. It’s what he needed to say. He needed to shove him away, to beat him up, but he didn’t. He couldn’t. He was too exhausted to do anything, except, he did do something, subconsciously, but still. He had slightly leaned into the larger spoon.

 

He had rarely been the smaller spoon, so he wasn’t used to it, but it was oddly comforting. Being enveloped in warmth, knowing that you’re safe even if it was with his enemy and the fact that it was reminding him of his wife in a positive light rather than the torturous nights he’s been going through.

 

So, Flintlocke let Soto hold him, and he fell asleep rather quickly.

 

☆☆☆

 

The sea gently swayed against the dock, bits of foam sticking to the shaped wood.

 

The sky was a clear blue with no clouds in sight.

 

The sun shined down, yet it didn’t feel that hot.

 

If anything, the temperature was perfect.

 

At the end of the dock sat a woman.

 

His wife.

 

Despite wanting to run toward her, he walked.

 

He lowered himself beside her, joining her in staring off into the distance.

 

Comfortable silence roamed around for a little while.

 

She broke it.

 

“It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

 

He faced her and watched her do the same.

 

The look on her face.

 

The way her loose hair blew perfectly in the wind.

 

Her smile.

 

Her.

 

“It has,” he replied.

 

She sighed softly and brought her hand to his cheek.

 

He leaned into her touch.

 

“You’ve been hurting for so long.”

 

He hummed in response.

 

It had been well over seven years since her life was taken.

 

“I apologize for leaving you so soon.”

 

He opened his mouth to protest, but she cut him off.

 

“But that doesn’t mean you have to continue mourning me. It’s been nearly a decade for First Master's sake!”

 

He stared at her in confused shock.

 

“Desmonda, I can’t do that. I can’t forget you. You mean too much to me.”

 

“Oh Flintlocke, I’m not telling you to forget me. I mean, how could you? We almost had a child together. What I want you to do, what I need you to do, is stop blaming yourself. Find a new life, be it on land or with someone else.”

 

His head spun at the thought of starting anew, let alone with someone new.

 

She continued.

 

“I don’t want you grieving over me the rest of your life. There’s so much out there that you’re missing because you just won’t get over what happened. It wasn’t your fault.”

 

…

 

It wasn’t his fault.

 

It wasn’t his fault

 

It wasn’t his fault.

 

He was sure he’d be crying if he was in control of his dream.

 

“I need you to know that. I was careless, even if I did have a kid growing in me,” She said with a light chuckle.

 

She took her hand away from his face and placed it on her flat belly, staring at the spot with love, but it soon changed to one of regret.

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

“Please never say sorry for what happened that day.”

 

She looked up from her stomach and gazed at him fondly.

 

“I love you,” she spoke with a hushed tone.

 

“I love you too.”

 

She sighed.

 

“I suppose this’ll be the last time we speak for a while, huh?”

 

She smiled.

 

“That’s okay.”

 

He wanted to protest, but he couldn’t.

 

The dream just wouldn’t let him.

 

She kept speaking.

 

“Don’t focus on avenging me. I know you’re doing that. Go live a little! You’re in a different realm, so have fun. It’s your first break in years.”

 

Her hand slid to his.

 

She pulled him in for a tight hug.

 

He hugged her back, but not nearly as tight as he wished.

 

“Until next time, my love.”

 

☆☆☆

 

Flintlocke jerked awake, causing the hammock to rock. He brought a hand to his face to press against his forehead, and it was slick with sweat. He felt the rest of his face and it was just as wet. It was probably mixed with the tears he wished he could’ve shed in his dream.

 

With a sigh, he put his hand down, pulling it back when it made contact with Soto’s.

 

Fuck, he forgot he was here.

 

The other man didn’t stir as their resting spot moved. Instead, he held onto Flintlocke tighter. He looked rather… peaceful. It seemed like this was his first break in a while too, especially since the guy’s a captain.

 

He let out a heavy sigh and debated whether or not he should get comfortable again. He doesn’t think he could sleep after a dream like that.

 

Move on? Start a new life? And with someone new, possibly?

 

Absolutely not.

 

He wouldn’t dare dream of that.

 

Flintlocke sighed again, a smaller one this time, and got back to debating about the original topic.

 

It’s… nice, he’ll admit.

 

Someone holding him with care after so many years, even if it’s not the woman he loves so dearly.

 

With that being his only reason, he eased himself back against the warmth of Soto’s body.

 

It didn’t take long for him to feel drowsy. Unfortunately though, his mind was wide awake. It was racing with questions, information, memories, feelings, and emotions he wanted to lock away until he died, so he lay awake for the rest of the morning.

 

☆☆☆

 

It had to be at least four hours of staring at nothing, doing nothing, before Soto stirred in his sleep. His grip had loosened around Flintlocke’s waist overtime, but he got back to holding him tighter. Slowly, he dragged the hand that rested over Flintlocke to his face, and rubbed his eyes, forcing them open.

 

He groaned at the realization that he had woken up, so he buried his face into Flintlocke’s shoulder.

 

“Get yer ass outta here,” Flintlocke snapped. “I letcha stay here all night– morning– whatever. Ya get my point.”

 

Soto groaned again – nearly whined – and slowly rose from his spot beside the other man.

 

“What’s the time?”

 

“How am I supposed to know?”

 

“Right…”

 

Soto leaned over the hammock’s low walls, and stared at the moon’s light on the floor from through the window. It was angled at a harsh angle, almost shining onto them, but thankfully, it wasn’t. It seemed it was around eleven at night. The perfect time for–

 

The door slammed open.

 

A tall figure walked in.

 

“Good evening! Get ready, it’s market time.”

They blinked.

 

Their mouth formed into an ‘o’ shape.

 

“My bad.”

 

“Yer good, Toma,” Soto said and signed. He sighed as he sat up fully, a yawn breaking out as he stretched his arms upward. “So we’re gonna go around town?”

 

Toma nodded. “You’re going to love it. It has changed a lot since you were last here.”

 

“Can’t wait then,” He replied while pulling himself out of the hammock. It swayed a great deal as Flintlocke followed his movements.

 

“What’re we doin’?” Flintlocke asked as he lazily folded the blankets.

 

“We’re going ta walk around town. The markets are up,” the taller replied as he walked over to Toma. “We’ll be out in… ten minutes?”

 

Flintlocke nodded, giving Soto the green. Toma nodded too.

 

“Okay. See you then!” Before turning around to leave, theysigned a question. “Are you guys together yet?”

 

Soto shoved them out the door, not bothering to reply.

 

“What’d they say?”

 

“Nothing important,” Soto replied quickly.

 

Flintlocke cocked a brow at him, but he was used to Soto being ‘mysterious’ at this point.

 

“Whatever ya say.”

 

☆☆☆

 

Soto hurried out of their room once he finished changing into clothes that were suited specifically for humans. He wasn’t about to stare at Flintlocke the entire time. That’d be so low of him! He watched him for three minutes.

 

Toma had been waiting outside the door.

 

“Ready?”

 

Soto nodded.

 

“Well, your guy isn’t.”

 

And like clockwork, Flintlocke stepped out of the room, shutting the door behind him. Soto’s heart caught in his throat when he saw that the other’s clothes were fitted on loosely and hung low, his chest peeking out. His hair no longer had gel to hold it in place, so many strands were framing his face. The way the moonlight shined down on him, First Master.

 

“Snap outta it,” Flintlocke said while snapping his fingers, forcing Soto out of his trance.

 

“Aha– Right…” He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “So, Toma! What are we doin’ today?”

 

Toma rolled their eyes at their awkward friend. “It’s Market Day. There’s been some updates since you last left, and I know you’ll like them!”

 

Soto beamed. “No way!! Oh, mate,” He pulled Flintlocke to him, putting his hand on the shorter’s shoulder. “We came at the right time! We’re gonna have a mighty fine day.”

 

Flintlocke shrugged off his hand. “Uh… sure, but aren’t we supposed to be getting punished rather than treated?”

 

Toma let out a silent laugh. “No! We help people change, and that does not happen with beating people up.”

 

“They said, ‘No, we help people change, and that does not happen with beating people up.’”

 

Toma smiled at the translation and nodded.

 

“Huh… You are strange fellas.” Flintlocke shook his head. “So, a market, huh?”

 

“Yes! Mate, it’s so fun. Sure it’s every day, but sometimes they have events and each one is so cool! I wonder what it’s going to be like this time!” Soto rambled on, subconsciously following Toma down the steep stone staircase embedded in the trunk of the largest tree Flinlocke had ever seen.

 

“Doesn’t seem all that interestin’ ta me.” He shrugged.

 

Soto gasped. “Oh ho ho ho, just wait till you–”

 

A flash of light set off into the sky, exploding into an array of purples and red swirling in the sparks. Both the pirates instinctively reached to their side only to feel that there was no gun nor sword, their eyes darting around the area. When they looked ahead of them, Toma was already twenty steps ahead.

 

No reaction… Soto thought. Why though? Wasn’t that a potion gone wrong?

 

He chased after Toma, Flintlocke following close behind, and caught up. “Toma, what was that?! You didn’t even bat an eye!”

 

Toma grinned. “Is someone scared?”

 

“Wha– No! I’m just curious as to why ya aren’t worried ‘bout a huge explosion!”

 

The large creature waved their hand. “I’m messing with you. Come see what it is.”

 

“Alright…”

 

Soto glanced at Flintlocke, nodding to assure it was safe, and Flintlocke nodded back. Slowly, they followed behind Toma, lowering both their hands, but they kept their guard up. As they reached the base of the tree, bright violet light shone onto the three of them. The pirates squinted, readjusting their eyes. What they saw was one of the best places either of them had seen in a long while.

 

There were rows of brightly colored markets, crowds of Toma’s kind, assortments of gems in multiple shapes into multiple designs, small cannons that were the reason for the sudden loud noise moments ago, flourishing flowers, the moon shining down on everyone and everything, making them glow beautifully.

 

It was truly a sight to behold.

 

Soto grinned widely. “Toma, this is amazing! You guys changed so much in the time I was gone!”

 

Toma nodded. “We were truly amazed by what you told us about your realm. We wanted to bring some of it into our culture.” They placed a hand on the captain’s shoulder. “Go have fun.”

 

“Oh, you betcha.” He turned to Flintlocke. “Yo, Flinty, let’s hit the shops!” But the words weren’t heard.

 

Flintlocke gazed at the younglings running around the tikis.

 

“Uh… Flinty?” Soto poked at his arm and Flintlocke snapped out of it.

 

“What?”

 

“Wanna hit the shops?”

 

“Um, sure…” He pulled his head away from the playing children and faced the variety of shops. “Do they all do that hand language thing?”

 

“Oh… Toma’s the only one who can’t speak, but the rest of ‘em have shit hearin’, so they use sign language. I’ll translate for ya, don’t worry.” He patted Flintlocke’s shoulder. “Now let’s go have some fun!”

 

Flintlocke nodded and Soto took his wrist, dragging him into the crowds of giants.

 

 

Notes:

Gang, it might take me a while to write the next chapter.... our school laptops are getting taken soon :(