COMABT INITIATION REQUESTS (OPEN)

by mush_PNG

Summary:

(Im new to ao3 pls be nice 🙏🙏🙏)

This fandom is experiencing the worst droughts known to man, the combatlings are dying.... but i am jere now. And im gonna COOK.
—————
Updates: Announcement, not chapter !! (Sorry to everyone who requested recently but i explain it here!!!!)

Order of requests: Cap/Bloxxer (guest), School AU (irl friend), Campaigns (Curiosity_Guest)

Chapter 1: REQUESTS

YYYELLO PEOPLE OF ROBLOXIA !!1 This is the place where you request oneshots for Fight Startup! Request Now!!!

❌️ Won't do:
– Incest
– Pedophilia
– Smut
– Fetishes

💬 "Maybe, only if...":
– Light sexual themes/thoughts (Needs a plot...)
– x Reader (Please specify who the reader is!)
– Headcanons and AU's (Please specify!)
– Physical illness and it's symptoms in a non-sexual way
– Sensitive topics (Such as mental illness, age-regression, and traumatic events. I'm not a professional in these topics and i WILL mess up with any representation. Please be patient and point out any and all flaws in my writing. A beta version of the oneshot will ALWAYS be posted before the final product so its properly evaluated by the requester.)
(Just as a reminder, this is still just a silly oneshot book where i have fun and try to better my writing, but things will be treated seriously when the topics are serious.)

✅️Will do:
–Gore
– Ships (Platonic or romantic)
– Crackfics
–Anything not in the "WONT DO EVER AND EVER(unless said otherwise)" section

(I can and will deny any requests that make me uncomfortable. If i deny your request bc of something not in the "NO" section, it will be updated immediately and im sorry :c )

How-To-Build request if u don't know how:

"[Charachters and relationships], where [situation]. Id like [Trope or specific tags]. Don't use [Trope or specific tags]."

If you don't know a situation or tags you'd like, that's ok! Just see how well that went for the first few oneshots i did... (until the Captain/Slasher one) (If u can't figure it out i just reused the "Tiredness forces them to open up"... So the small ideas really help!!!)

(The player charachter will be referred to as Bloxxer!!! Unless the requester wants otherwise!!!)

Chapter 2: A taste of what i can bring to the table... heh...

Summary:

They didn't even know that person's name. Heck, noone up here exactly talked, too focused on survival to have any chance of a conversation. Too animalistic to think further than instincts.

Too bad every animal had a predator, but pity the ones that hid away from their angel of death. Just because they focused on being animal didn't mean they weren't still human, still suffering.

Notes:

Stuff in this fic:
- Bloxxer and vagabong having a gabriel/v1 ultrakill type dynamic🏳️‍🌈⁉️⁉️
- (except bloxxer is V1 with gaybriel–complex)
-☠️☠️☠️mention of dead bodies and Killing ppl and Blood☠️☠️☠️☠️☠️

The smell of blood never left them.

Bodies were piled up in the snowy grounds. The constructions of destroyed glass provided cover for their killer, their freedom.

The Bloxxer (The name was given to them to more easily discard their humanity) sat still, eyes open despite their desperate need for rest. Their days since they were given this mission have since been restless, — Kill, explore, kill, repeat.

This day had started with them thinking no different.

But something — someone, managed to break them away from that pattern.

A blue swordsman sprouted on top of the glass structures, jumping off towards the Bloxxer. The helmet they wore was the first thing that caught their eyes, resembling a rusted crown with handmade wings sprouting out of the sides. Then the sword, something akin to what they would see in a child's drawing, but it somehow worked. The blue blade shone silver in the winterland, so sharp it made the Bloxxer a little jealous (They didn't have much time to clean theirs, nowadays...). Two hoodies on top of eachother to stand the cold, a familiar red dirtied it. They didn't wear any armor outside of the helmet, yet...


Yet.


They were faster than the Bloxxer, despite the boots made for speed. They were just as strong as the Bloxxer, despite living on the surface. They put so much more pressure on the Bloxxer that, for once, they themselves felt that animalistic urge of survival. That primal rage that they thought they once understood.


They didn't even know that person's name. Heck, noone up here exactly talked, too focused on survival to have any chance of a conversation. Too animalistic to think further than instincts.
Too bad every animal had a predator, but pity the ones that hid away from their angel of death. Just because they focused on being animal didn't mean they weren't still human, still suffering.

That feeling... they couldn't describe it. It was abstract, a painting made from splotches of so many colors the canvas turned brown.


And, oh, how they wished to feel that again.


Running on instincts instead of memorized steps, moving with passion instead of a focused mind, dancing with an equal to see which was the original and which was the perfect copy.

It tapped into a part of their brain that was dormant for so long, they felt as if it was missing.

But now, now, they had found their perfect copy. Their perfect reflection.


The Bloxxer won their first battle, but the Swordsman escaped, alive.

When they first steped onto the winter wastelands, they felt as if they were being watched, now, they knew who to blame for that wave of paranoia.

They could still feel the Swordsman's eyes on them, as they left the glass building towards their next massacre. As they climbed the great SFoTH towers, towards the Rocket Arena. As they rested, after days of climbing and climbing with no end in sight...

They wondered why that person didn't kill them yet, the smell of blood never left them.

Chapter 3: King/reader fluff (for: wethekidnappers)

Summary:

Could anyone blame you, though? The world was in constant chaos since you were born, the King was kind enough to give you and many others a place without the need for bloodshed. The Heights was the only peaceful place you've seen in your entire life,

 

You owed you life to him.

 

Didn't mean you didn't fucking hate having to work.

Notes:

So yeah, i maayyyy have been a bit carried away... but thats what u get by giving me the creative freedom to decide what happens... (evilly) heh...

-🫵x reader shenanigans
-fluff and sleepy cuddles
-love confessions
-first kiss
-Does It Count As hurt/comfort If Youre Just Tired/Overworked?
-not really proud of this tbh... but i hope u like it !!!

"Um– could you pass me the wine?"

The voice of one of the butlers snapped you back into reality.

Today had been a long day, with the King having seemingly unending meetings with other people in power that you did not care enough to learn about, no workers would be having the privilege that 'resting' was for atleast a week.

Your arms ached as you passed the butler one of the few wine bottles left.

Quickly counting, there were only 2 bottles left.

"Resources are already scarce, why do they need this much food anyway?" You questioned.

One of the cooks leaned on the stone counter, there was unnending sizzling of the pans frying something tasty. "I heard one of the guests is gonna stay here for 4 days, maybe the King is trying to give a good impression."

Hes already impressive enough. You thought, but didn't dare say it aloud. What more could they want?

Your coworkers already knew about your 'little crush'. Recently, you've been trying to be more quiet and pray the gossip hasn't spread too far, but Roblox knows rumors spread fast and die hard.

Could anyone blame you, though? The world was in constant chaos since you were born, even with an iron-fist, the King was kind enough to give you and many others a place without the need for bloodshed. The Heights was the only peaceful place you've seen in your entire life,


You owed you life to him.


Didn't mean you didn't fucking hate having to work for more than 24 hours with not even a blink of sleep.

"Oh, also–!" The butler rushed back in, nearly bumping into you. Faster than lighting, you grabbed the bottle that fell out of their hands. "Oooh my Roblox imsosorry– " You gave them the wine bottle back, a sigh of relief leaving you both "But also, the King has called for you!"

Your heart skips a beat, a shock even stronger overcoming you.

Take a breath, you're only giving the rumors more fuel! You mentally slapped yourself, "Right, r–right! I'll be there in a bit." You turned to the cook beside you, still waiting for the food to fry. "You can handle the rest of the food, right..?"

They grumbled, but agreed.

You rushed out of the kitchen, reminding yourself mid-run that you didn't even know where the King was.

Today was gonna be a long day.

  ~

You searched and searched, yet no sign your King. Maybe it was your vision getting blurry, or the fact you could barely focus on your surroundings, but you just couldn't find him. You didn't even hear his footsteps! (Not that you memorized it, he just had loud and rythmics footsteps that anyone would be able to remember! You're not that obssesed with him!)

You let yourself daydream to pass the time, you're confident of being able to walk around the castle blindfolded anyways, so its fine.


Hmm...


Having to work directly for the King, in a world were barely anyone was sane, meant you had to know a lot about many skills to make up for the low numbers. While you had many traits that helped you survive once — such as your fast reflexes and your curiosity — you needed to master other skills fast if it meant you were allowed in the castle.

You learned a lot here, cooking, bodyguarding, cleaning, and others. Some you were great at, others you were near mediocre at (But they do pass), but there was something specific you prided yourself in.

A mechanic.

A few weeks ago (Maybe it was a month ago, your memory wasn't the best right now) the King asked for you and a student (A daughter of a powerful lord, or so you've heard.) to build him a combat mech.

You could understand why, the kingdom needed to protect itself from any and all threats, but you were still a bit shocked.

You obliged, of course, but you still had a drop of doubt in you mind. Both inside and outside threats were dealt with by the highly trained army. So why a mech?!

You turned to the corridor to the left, towards the room with the ceiling window, until you were pushed with a bump to chest and not even feeling gravity till you hit the floor.

"Ouch..."
You suddenly felt the pain on your back. Lifting yourself to a sitting position, you looked at the person you just bumped into and oh my Roblox that's the powerful guy the King was meeting with.

Like a switch was pulled, you ignored all your pain and weariness and pushed yourself to your feet. "Oh, i am so, so sorry–" You offered your hand to him "I did not see you coming, your grace–"
Instead, he pulled himself up and slapped your hand away.

You cringed slightly, that just made your hands hurt more.


Then, your heard the rythmic steps of Your Majesty coming closer.


You looked straight at him like a deer in the headlights, and he stared back.


"Pray tell, what seems to be happening around here?"

In his full glory, your King was here. He still wore the blood-red armor with a giant cat's eye engraved on it, the fire ring from SFoTH was adopted by him as a symbol for his kingdom. The light from the windows bounced off from his crown in such a way that looked like a halo, but you knew well he wasn't angelic.

You broke yourself out of your shock but before you could answer him, that bitchahem The King's beloved guest told him first.

"This peasant bumped into me, and called me 'Your Grace'. Your Highness, is this how your people view me? Are they uneducated?"

Your King looked back at you, and you coild slightly, slightly see his gaze softening as he meets your eyes.

"No, my apologies, Your Highness. This one–" he extended an arm towards you "–Is the other mechanic i wanted to introduce you to."

'Your Highness?!?' This was somewhere else's king?!

You stood as politely as you could, giving the man an apologetic smile despite, well, everything.

The one you bumped into sighed, then stood in a much more polite manner. "Well then, i hope we can make up for this disastrous introduction."

..his smile looked almost as fake as yours.

You blinked, Your Majesty and this man exchanged a few words, and suddenly it was just you and the King.

He sighed, and you felt a shiver on your back as you realized you probably ruined Your Majesty's first-meeting with this man.

"What were you thinking–" he started angrily. Despite your infatuation, you know why your coworkers dislike him. "When you bumped into him? Huh? What were you doing mindlessly frolicking around the castle?"

You took a breather, could already feel a migrane "My apologies, Your Majesty. I was looking for you since you had called me, but i couldn't find you anywhere." You said robotically.

He hummed "And what about the clear disrespect to my guest's title, huh?"

"Sorry that i don't think he deserves a title nearly as important as yours, geez." You accidentally said outloud. You turned sharply towards him, planning a hundred different ways you could explain yourself.

He looks at you with a shocked expression, then suddenly–


"BAHAHAHAHA!"

He was laughing.
You couldn't begin to process it– you made your King laugh!?

"Pff– HAHA! Oh, Roblox... that's why you're my favourite..." favourite!?!? "I'll grant you mercy for what you did, that was hilarious."

"Uh– um... i–" you couldn't say a word. Too shocked from hearing you're his favourite (favourite subordinate? Worker?? Huh??) And your low energy. You felt him catch you before you even realized you were falling.

"Oh Roblox, are you that tired?" He chuckled, there was nothing more than white noise in your head, too tired from trying to understand that your King, the one that ruled with an iron-fist with no exceptions, in a constant look for power despite the destroyed world, was the same person here, that laughed with you about another monarch and held you as to not let you fall.

So you just... gave in. And you let yourself fall deeper into his arms.
You couldn't feel anything else anymore, as the scenery changed around you, the only feeling you held onto was how safe you felt in his arms.

Sure, the armor was quite uncomfortable and cold but as he held you...

..you couldn't think of anything else anymore.

~

You opened your eyes.

Instead of being met with the first rays of sunlight coming through your window, warning you of the start of another day, the room you were in was dark, the moonlight being the only source of light. As your senses came back to you, you felt yourself bound to the softest bed you have ever slept in, the blankets enveloping you were warm...

Then you realized this wasn't your room.

Old survival instincts came back to you, you're suddenly a bit too aware of your surroundings. A part of you begged to just go back to sleeping, but you didn't listen.

"You are already awake?"

You turned immediately towards the voice, and saw your King. Then the memories came back to you.

A sigh of relief escaped you, but you were sure you looked like a tomato by how hard you were blushing.

He took off his chestplate and put it on a chair, and walked towards the bed. "There's no need to be so embarassed, i should've known not to overwork my best Mechanic. You deserve the rest." He sat at your side, a smug grin at his face. "And don't worry, i didn't do anything while you were asleep."

You chocked on your own saliva.

He put his hand on your back as you coughed, and when you seized—"What the #### ???"

He laughed again— The rough, genuine laughter you were still getting used to.


"Ah, don't worry. I have known of your... 'feelings' towards me for a long time now."

He sighed, "I'll confess, i feel the same way."

"..Then why did you wait so long?" You could feel your heart ache, nearly overflowing with passion that you couldn't act on.

"Ah, i can't go dating whoever i want to. As a ruler, i learned i need to know who i can put my trust on, unless i want to let anyone exploit me."

You leaned your head towards him, sitting side by side. His body radiated a pleasant warmth, one you'd compare to a small fire in winter.

The night was cold, so you leaned closer.

"..And you believe im worthy of your trust?"

"More than worthy." He responded.

He was patient, letting you stain his blanket with your tears. They couldn't help but fall, and he now, fully, embraced you.

He kissed your head and small giggle escaped you. "What's so funny?" He asked.

"It's nothing..." the rest of the adrenaline left you, and you felt sleepy again. You looked up at his face, noticing it was full of scars you weren't able to see before, far away from him. Putting a hand on his cheek, "Can i..?" He nodded.


You moved to sit on his lap, and kissed him.


You felt the warmth in your heart explode as you did so. It didn't take long for him to hold you again, and you felt that same safety as before.

Now, just you and him, the world around you both felt like nothing more than an afterthought.

He broke the kiss after what you wished was forever, "I still..." he took a deep breath, "..I still have work to do."

His face was now the one that was red.

"Nooooo..." you silently pleaded. His smile grew a little larger, holding back another chuckle. "I want to stay with you more..."

"Go to sleep, dear." He started leaving the bed, you didn't even process the fact he called you 'dear'. "I can still see you're tired, we can continue... tomorrow."

He took his armor back and wore it. You watched with lovefull eyes his every move untill it was all too blurry for you to focus.

"Sleep well, dear."

Chapter 4: Captain/Slasher first meet (for: sfothpwned)

Summary:

He wished he could lean on Slasher, but that was someone he just met. And just tried to kill. Not the best first introduction, so he tried to keep his distance. They would only grant this mercy tonight, better not miss his shot.

The gap inbetween him and Slasher was filled by a cold breeze.

 

He didn't want to think about closing that gap.

Notes:

mlg water buckets from the sky HIIII SORRY FOR TAKING A BIT I WAS TRUHARDING MY ART PROJECT

Heres ur Captain 𝓕𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴  content sfothpwned....
- A noob on constant Near-Death status ( only in one paragraph)
- Blood and Violence and Injuries
- Light angst (they are both touch starved and refuse to eat(aka hug and kiss and mwah mwah💔💔💔))
- They/Them yaoi🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈
- I COMPLETELY FORGOT CAPTAIN HAD A HOOK IM SO SORRY DONT GUILLOTINE ME 🙏🙏🙏

Contrary to popular belief, the desert wasn't always hot.



At night, the temperature fell to the negatives and Roblox bless you if you don't have any protection.

It was the only time you could see people helping eachother instead of ripping eachother to shreds, the cold was too much to withstand alone and the inhabitants of Chaos Chanyon knew it all too well.



Captain — his actual name was forgotten long ago— would usualy be huddled up with his crew members, together, trying to get through the night.

"Too bad they ain't here no more." He mumbled, looking around a building full of cobwebs. The air around him was full of grief.



It was routine now, sleep in the same place for a few days, then adventure out for any, any resources he could get his hands on. The latter usually lasted weeks.



The place he had found didn't seem too bad, there weren't any signs of people around and it was pretty much closed off, atleast more than the other destroyed buildings he had come across.

He felt a migraine, but he couldn't care less. He just wanted to get the day over with— his legs were shaking from the walking and for days he had to force himself to forget sleeping was something he needed to do.

His vision blurred, but he blamed it on his sleep deprivation. Taking a step foward, he looked to the corner he was planning to pass out in. But then he felt his foot noclip into the ground and he went blind before his head could hit the floor.



And when he opened his eyes again, he was staring at purple skies.



Captain stayed where he was for a few seconds, processing what just happened.



"What the..?"
His pupils dilated, the first thing he noticed was the temperature shift.

It was actually torelable now. The wind wasn't deathly cold and there wasn't any sand under his boots--



(Its unfamiliar. Its new and unfamiliar and you're in danger)



He pushed himself up to his feet. His eyes darted around the new environment, taking in every new information at light speed.

There were trees with straight, dark-logs and circular leaves. It was midnight, considering the full-moon up in the center of the sky. The Captain was standing above one of the metal platforms he would occasionally find near mountains and on the floor, rusty from time and covered in sand.

And infront of him, on top of a cliff that shadowed where he stood, was a mansion.


(Imagine im describing the mansion im NOT gonna do research on what the different outside parts of a house are called rn but i know theres a porch?????)
(I am SOOO sorry but this is gonna take too long and its not even ship content💔)


On the top of the imposing building, there was a figure illuminated by the pale moonlight.

He tried to pick out the details, but before he could, it all went black.


To the Captain's confusion, this time he didn't teleport to another unknown location, but his feet stayed where they were and he couldn't feel the environment around him shift.

Atleast he thinks he didn't teleport, he wasn't sure.

Suddenly, he heard footsteps nearby. He locked back in and looked for the origin of the sound.

He carefully took a step towards it, his hand already on the grip of his gun– his vision was pitch black, not counting the short distance of what he could actually see. It was as if a fog had enveloped the entire place, with no lights to show him the way.


He took another step, and the footsteps stopped.


Feeling confident, he began walking to the direction he thought he heard the noise. It was quick, but bothersome. Putting one of his hands up to not bump into anything, he adventured nearly blind, his already blind eye was also not helping.


After a short walk to whatever direction he went, he heard breathing.



He halted for a moment, getting a tighter grip on his gun. Examining the noise, he could tell it was labored breathing– maybe of someone injured. If they were, he could easily take them down if they tried to attack him.



Getting closer, the hand that wasn't holding the gun bumped onto fabric, and the smell of fresh blood hit him like a brick.

The instant the touch happened he could hear a whimper and the sound of fabric moving. A part of his brain made him get closer, find out what happened to the poor thing, while another took the gun out of it's resting place.



There was a Noob, wearing a paper mask with a crude drawing of a face(?) on it, chained up and their clothes drenched with their own blood. There were rusty knives holding their injuries closed like a bottle and a cork, probably the only reason they were still alive, still breathing, still aware.



The Captain heard footsteps behind him, too quick for his legs to dodge so he held up his gun and pressed--

CRACK!

The fog cleared as he shot, the moonlight finally clearing it's way to him. The one he hit stumbled backwards, hands on his face.

Captain quickly noted what he looked like: a red shirt, black gloves and straps around his pale white arms...

(Red and white. Thats all you need to look out for.)

Then, the person stared right back at him. Their hands had razor-like claws, one of them holding the shot bullet, stained to the brim with dried blood. Then he looked at their face and saw a white mask, a crack was formed yet it didn't look like it hit them.

Captain took a deep breath, "Goddammit, i just wanted to sleep." He mumbled. And the person infront of him sighed.

Before he could process it, White Mask guy (He could give them a less stupid name later.) Dashed at him, claws out.

He put his arms up as a shield, then jumped and dashed away.

As he gained momentum, his legs started to weigh with each second. (Don't really have the energy to fight right now...) He thought as he turned to aim at White Mask. (They seem like they understand me, maybe i can talk this out?)

It was probably his most insane plan yet, more insane than when he suggested for him and his crewmates to live in Chaos Chanyon, of all places, when the world started to deteriorate.



However, when has he ever hesitated to shoot his shot?



Once White Mask started to close the distance inbetween them, he started talking.
"Nighty, matey, 's kinda rude to start a duel without the proper ettiquette. Never 'eard of the 10 steps? Or even introducing yerself?"

White Mask stopped for a moment, standing defensively before responding.
"..I'm Slasher."
Captain shot his gun, the bullets flying everywhere while White-- Slasher attempted to dodge each of them, a few unseen shots hitting them.

"Pleasure to be meeting ye, good sir," Captain took long steps back, his feet barely hit the humid floors. He took pride on his quick feet and natural aim, "Name's Captain, by the way."

He felt Slasher's claws scrape his arms as they ran from behind him, blood staining his damaged clothes. He hadn't even realized they were out from his sight.


Someone faster than him? Now that would be trouble.


He focused on hearing their footsteps. Putting a hand on his inventory– even if his barrels would be bothersome to throw at someone so fast – He heard the wind pick up speed behind him and he dashed.
"Say, im tired," he threw a barrel to where he last was, "and yer seem like quite the lovely lad."

BOOM!

Slasher disappeared from Captain's sight on the dust of the explosion, and from the clouds emerged not the Slasher themselves, but several knives lunging at the Captain.

He quickly dodged, but his leg's cramps got worse, letting a few knives cut his hat. The exhaustion was once bearable, but now he really needed that fight to be over with.

"Im assuming that mansion is yours, ain't it?" He tried, ducking from another five knives thrown at him, "Why don't ya show me around? Dueling till dawn comes 'round ain't really--" he took a breath, "--the best scenario, is i--"



An unnatural wind passed by him and suddenly there was a tight grip on the neckline of his shirt, and Slasher's face was uncomfortably close to his.

Well, not that "comfortable" would fit, but he was blushing from the proximity and the sudden warmth.



Roblox, he hoped it was just his head being weird from the lack of sleep.



"How do i know," He held a threatening voice, despite suddenly prefering his left leg over the other. Captain started to notice how Slasher's voice was unnaturally gravy, as if there was some material in his mask that made it sound like that. "That you're not messing with me?"

Captain flashed a smug grin, (he hoped Slasher didn't notice his stupid blush) "Well, im tired, so even if i did want to kill ye, me limbs woulda gone out before i even tried anythin' "

"And also, if ya still tried to kill me, i wouldn've been afraid to defend myself." Slasher pressed their claws to his neck, suddenly alarmed. "But i don't think either of us wanna get out of this limping." Captain lowered his volume, a small bit louder than a whisper.

Slasher glared at him for a while longer before suddenly releasing him from their tight grip. Captain stumbled backwards before catching himself. The places where Slasher was close to were suddenly cold, the natural breeze passing by.

He ignored that feeling.



"I'll..." Slasher started, there was an unusual tremble to their voice. "I'll let you stay. But just know, if you try anything--"

"Aye, aye, or i'll see me self on ol' Davy Jones' locker, i hear ya." Captain waved one of his hands dismissively. Slasher looked back at him confused, "I'll see me self dead, matey." He specified.

Slasher sighed again, limping towards the mansion ontop of the hill. "Let's... let's go already."

Captain let out a sigh of relief, finally a gosh darn break. He walked up to Slasher, catching up with them.

"Finally, i don' even know how i got here, to be honest. Was just in Chaos Chanyon then-- BUM! I opened me eye and here i was." He started, and oh, Slasher was gonna be hearing his voice for a long time. With noone to hear the pirate's stories anymore, Captain now finally had someone to infodump on.



Was it weird Slasher didn't mind?



It had been so, so long since they ever interacted with someone in such friendly manner. They felt it was pathetic, to get attached to the first person that treated them like one too, but they couldn't deny, it felt good.
He felt his scarred cheeks flush– he was so glad the mask didn't shatter to pieces – and he just-- just wished the pirate would stay longer. Not a one-time visit, but stay.



Captain's legs still ached.



He wished he could lean on Slasher, but that was someone he just met. And just tried to kill. Not the best first introduction, so he tried to keep his distance. They would probably only grant this mercy tonight, so he better not miss his shot.

The gap inbetween him and Slasher was filled by a cold breeze.


He didn't want to think about closing that gap.


(He really, really tried not to focus on how long it had been since he was touched like this, by people he could trust, even if a small bit. With his crewmates, it was in someway, different. He didn't have an unnatural warmth in his chest. He didn't want to touch more just because. And, now, he didn't want to think about it.)


..ayup, it didn't matter.

Notes:

Noob was too busy Dying to listen to gay people talk mb 🙏
ALSO he was supposed to be a replacement for the 'furst encounter' w Slasher cuz im lazy. Thats what the paper mask is btw....

Chapter 5: Captain/Slasher (PART 2) sickfic

Summary:

Then, it clicked. He was in Slasher's mansion. Slasher, the person he fought, talking himself out of a life-or-death situation.

(Where even was he, anyways? As far as he could remember, he no-clipped and passed out before getting here. Oh well, he could ask Slasher for directions.)

He stopped walking at the empty, white doorframe to Slasher's bedroom, too empty, as if noone ever lived in it, for one to sleep peacefully in, yet, there are blankets covering what Captain assumes to be a sleeping Slasher.

Notes:

For: prozacbrain

Stuff here:
-Light description of injuries and illness
-I accidentally made them the "C fell first but S fell harder" trope except Captain is in denial so Slasher fell "first" AND fell harder
-my writing looked so cringe when i read it 😭 hopefully its just my brain doing sillious backflips again

Captain is used to waking up choking on dust, as he layed in the cold, cracked floors of abandoned houses. Taking deep breaths and preparing for the day as he ignored the familiar screams of lingering nightmares.

He was used to suddenly waking up, while the moon still shone brightly in the midnight sky, due to an unknown noise in a random location, just loud enough for him to force himself to stay up the night with a tight grip on the gun in his hand.

What he was not used to, however, was waking up on a soft bed, in an unknown location, freezing.



Immediately, he pushed himself up. He tried to keep an even mind, but shreds of panic still lingered. He noted down everything he could –The walls with a disgustingly bright color pallette, the lack of doors despite the abundance of doorframes inbetween rooms, an empty atmosphere due to the lack of decorations, too clean, too perfect to be something from this world.



Then, it clicked. He was in Slasher's mansion. Slasher, the person he fought, talking himself out of a life-or-death situation.

The memories came back to him, flooding his head.



(The double doors loudly locked behind him. The mansion's insides were kind of what he expected, yet it still took him by surprise how clean it was. No cracks, no smell of rot, no destroyed walls, it was uncannily perfect. The gnarly colors and decorations felt nostalgic despite this being his first time being there.

Slasher pokes on his arm, and Captain snaps out of his daze. "Ah, sorry... Say, where will i be sleepin'? I'd love a tour, but i'm gonna pass ou' on yer floors if i'm awake any longer."

Slasher guides the half-awake pirate to the second floor, not a long journey until they reach a fully blue room and Captain only notices the two blue beds with pure white cushions that looked extremely inviting. Just looking at them he could imagine how soft they were.

With relief, he drops to the one closest to the staircase and gets jumpscared by how soft it really is. Again, he expected it yet still took him by surprise that it was true.



Through the heavy eyelids and cushions that swallowed him, he sees Slasher limping to the room just besides this one. "Where do ye think yer be goin'?" He questions, despite it being Slasher's home.

"My room." They simply responded. Captain jumps to a sitting position and promptly notes down to apologize to Slasher for the now bloody cushions. Extending his back to see their room, he sees a red, queen-sized bed, looking just as if not more comfortable than the one he was sitting on at the moment.

His mouth was agape, there was no way hes lucky enough to find himself at a place like this. It wasn't even his situation now, ever since he became a pirate warm bed and blankets were a rarity he always made sure to cherish whenever he could.



Roblox, he really should apologize for the cushion. Slasher was way too kind for someone that just tried to brutally murder him.



Captain snaps out of his own thoughts and finds Slasher staring right back at him, sitting on his own bed, clutching their stomach. The air was thick with silence.



"Ye really be sleepin' in on that?" He tries to cut through the silence, Roblox knows he was too much of a chatterbox. "Must be lonely sleepin' on that big, warm bed all by yerself, ey?" He joked.

Slasher only freezes and Captain takes it that they understood basic flirting, and he chuckles loudly to ignore the warm bubbling in his stomach.

"Ah, but this one 's alright. Thanks, anyways." He continues casually, laying back down to the bed, the left side was slightly rotting the air with the smell of blood. He leans away.

"..goodnight." Captain hears them shyly say. He says it back, much more confidently and passes out with the smell of blood and warm pillows he wished he could have shared.)



Captain sat back down on the bed. Sighing, he figured that he shouldn't overstay his welcome and go back to Chaos Chanyon, even though he knew this place was so much better than back there.

(Where even was he, anyways? As far as he could remember, he no-clipped and passed out before getting here. Oh well, he could ask Slasher for directions.)

Slowly walking towards Slasher's room, dragging the motion out, he notices how the home looks a little brighter, softer, due to the sunlight spreading throughout the mansion, despite this particular room having no windows.

He tried to remember every characteristic of the mansion he knew, knowing it was the only time he could wake up with a peaceful mind. He really wished he got that tour.



He stopped at the empty, white doorframe to Slasher's bedroom, too large, too empty, as if noone ever lived in it, for one to sleep peacefully in. The only object that felt 'normal' was a half-open, dirty medkit at the foot of the bed. And yet, there are blankets covering what Captain assumes to be a sleeping Slasher, his mask and gloves discarded on the wooden drawer in front of the bed, the only decoration in the room.



He knocks on the doorframe twice, "Ahoy, matey!"



When they don't respond, he swallows the worry bubbling in his throat. "Ey, matey, ye awake?" He tries louder.



The blanket stirs, and a clawed hand –Slasher's hand– gets out from the red sheets to give a weak thumbs up.



"Yer not a morning person? Don' blame ye." He chuckles to himself, leaning against the doorframe. "But anyways, i figured..." He pauses, there's still infighting in his mind, "...i jus' wanted to ask where i am, ye know? Ye remember how i told ye how i got 'ere?" Slasher gives another thumbs up, even weaker this time. "Well, i'd like yer help to find me way back to Chaos Chanyon, since ye know the area better than me."



Looking back to the pale hand, he notices it's slightly shaking. They don't move.



Softly, he starts talking again, "Ey, matey." Still, not moving, "Ar' ye okay? I'm startin' to think it's not just ye not being a morning person."

Captain carefully approached the bedside. Nearly taking away Slasher's blanket to check on him, but Slasher stops him with an iron grip, not letting the fabric go. After a moment of hesitation, they let Captain check but they warn they must have their mask first. He gives the cracked mask to them, and they put it on hiding in the blanket, then finally reveal themselves.

They looked extremely worn out, sweating, and they seemed to struggle with breathing, even the mask was put on half-hazardly. Their injuries from last night's fight were bandaged but in dire need of replacement due to how bloody they were.

"Ye doing good?" Captain softly asked, feeling sorry for the injuries he caused them. The memories of them limping, hugging their own stomach, flashed inside his head. Slasher shook their head, "No, i... i feel sick." Their voice was raspy, heavy with struggle.

"I figured..." The pirate responded, sitting down on the bed in a safe distance away from his host. Then, an idea: "Would ye like me to help ye?"

He said with far more intusiasm than what he hoped, and nearly cringed in embarrassment. Instead, his gaze flew away from Slasher, towards the suddenly extremely interesting and pleasant gray wall.


The atmosphere turned heavily quiet and extremely awkward to Captain as he awaited Slasher's response.



"Yes..." they finally responded, "That would be... nice."

Captain felt relief now that they accepted his help. While he doesn't have the discipline of a doctor, he was very experienced with dealing with illnesses.

"But first," he pushes himself to his feet, "We gotta replace those bandages of yours." He points towards them.

Slasher told him the medkit he stole only had half the bandages, much less of it now that they used it. Still, Captain grabbed it and started working on replacing the old ones.

"W--wait--" Slasher fully paused, suppressing a sneeze. After a deep breath, he continued, "You... you need to be bandaged too..."



Huh. Captain completely forgot about his own injuries.



Looking at them now –The shallow slicing near his shoulder, both his forearms sliced deeply, his legs still sore– he figured the only one which would need immediate care were his forearms, if not, he'd have to deal with a nasty infection. But the rest? He could deal with them. Then, the rest of the medical care could go to Slasher. After all, the guy got caught in an explosion. And Captain knew from an extremely personal experience that those hurt like a #####.



"I'll wrap meself in a few bandages, but im still gonna focus on ye." He stated, the usual humorous tone replaced with soft honesty. It made Slasher's heart skip a beat, how he cared. They desperately, desperately wanted to take care of him in return, but their frail state prohibited doing so. All they could do was thank him, and they felt a pit form in their stomach.

They felt his hand touch him, and grabbed it harshly out of instinct.

The guilt settled instantly when Captain made a pained squeak, "Ow, ow... sorry, matey," he started, holding the injured wrist Slasher hadn't noticed they released, "Do ye... wanna replace them yerself?" He mumbled something about 'asking first', but they cut him off. "No no, i--" their throat felt too warm, there was something clogging it and closing the walls in unnaturally, but despite all the discomfort and the struggle, they needed to apologize to him. (They needed, they needed, they shouldn't have hurt him) "It's okay, i'm... sorry..."

It felt weird to say it, with their throat clogged and the screaming in the back of their head that they were getting too vulnerable, but they said it. They said it and they only hoped he could forgive them. (They hated being dependent on that fact. They hated not being alone anymore.)

"It's okay for you to..." he sneezed, not ready to hold it in this time, "it's-- it's okay to... touch me. I was just surprised."

Captain still held the injured wrist, an unrecognizable look on his face. Slasher's guilt started subsiding, but they didn't let it. Holding it with an iron grip, feeling how alive it made them feel.

"Ookay then." He finally responded, pulling them back to reality. They gently, hesitantly, (afraid) lent him one of their arms, bandaged the most out of the two. The limb felt incredibly heavy, in fact, their whole body felt as if it was weighing them down. They dealt with illness before, but that didn't mean it ever got easy.



Captain, then, started his work.

Once he finished that arm, he went towards the shoulder of the other arm. The process was painfully slow. Slasher, instead of focusing on the time, focused on when Captain's skin accidentally brushed with theirs, or when he carefully held their limbs up, always asking before doing so. Usually, touch would mean an enemy got too close, and you were standing just near the heavy curtain that separated life and death. Their brain had learned to react to such with adrenaline, to get away as fast as possible. To survive.



Yet.

Yet.



Slasher fought agaisnt their own instincts just so Captain would feel safe being this close to them. It felt warm, not like a campfire, not like the inpherno of a burning building, either...

It was like the first time using clean blankets in a particularly cold night, falling asleep in the protective embrace of soft fabrics holding in the heat like an igloo.



Slasher, absorved in their own thoughts, only noticed themselves dozing off when Captain snapped his fingers infront of their face.

Captain questions if their stomach feels okay, Slasher responding that they nearly passed out after the blast of his barrel, and once it was over, he nearly vomited on his way up the stairs. They don't feel as dizzy anymore, though, just tired.



" 'As dizzy' ?"

"It's-- it's fine. Just hard to focus a bit."


He then asked about any more injuries. So far, Slasher knew of the burns of where they were shot, mostly in their torso, near their shoulders. One of their legs, the one closer to the blast, was extremelly sore, but not in pain anymore.



After a few, silent seconds, Captain started talking again, "Let's go with the gunshots first, yer gonna have to take off yer shirt."



Slasher only stared at him, frozen in shock. "I-- i--" They sneezed again, the recoil sending their head down, "Are you sure..?" They backed away, just slightly, just enough to show they didn't really want to.

"Well, we either start with that or yer legs."

"Excuse me?!"

Captain laughed at his reaction, his hook on his stomach while the other hand held himself up in the bed. Slasher was too flabbergasted to react to anything, the laugh only drowning their ears.

"M--matey don' worry," he said in between laughs, the laughter dying out, he took in a sharp breath to calm down, "look-- look, matey, we're not doin' anythin', don' worry. I just need to take care of yer gunshots."

Slasher sighed, figuring it's better to ignore their own embarrassment to let him handle their injuries.

They hesitated to take it off at first, but forced themselves to get rid of it in one go just to get it over with.



They tried to not focus on his touch, so near his vital organs, so close to being able to kill them. And how they are the ones allowing him. How they forced themselves not to lean to the touch. ("I'm just sleepy", they convinced themselves.)



(They hated how vulnerable he made them feel, how frail they turned, not only because of the illness. They could have taken the medicine themselves, replaced their bandages themselves, went through all this by themselves, alone. But he loved how relaxing it was, to be cared for, to not be seen as and not see only threats, but equals. People to care for. And they yearned it. They yearned it so much.)



They aggressively sneezed again, their mask felt gross to wear with all the secretion. But they couldn't just 'stop wearing it' since Captain was here.



Once he finished, Slasher wanted to just pass out and give in to his own body's exhaustion, but there was still one problem left...

"So... do ye have anythin' to treat ye illness?"

Of course they had. Alongside their pumpkins, they planted some herbs so they wouldnt repeat the last time they had to deal with an illness with no treatment.

"I stole some herbs from a group sharing a fire ring symbol, then planted them here. Theres some in the kitchen."

"Well, that's good." He held the last bit of bandages, feeling a little guilty for having to use it. Quickly taking care of his forearms so he can make the medicine for Slasher.

The pirate got up, on his way to put the medkit back in it's rightful place, he broke the silence once more, "And, ehhh... thanks for letting me in. Just in case i didn't thank ye before."

And Slasher only nodded, because what else could they do? Threathen to spill the truth of their yearning? That's a hard 'no'.

Then, he left the room with a wave. A feeling they both shared connected them: That they were glad this inconvenience happened. Atleast, the other could stay longer.

Notes:

I was litterally getting frustated over them not making out already then i remembered. Im writing this. IM WRITING THEM LIKE THIS.

Also i was planning on this happening on the course of around a week, mostly on Slasher's pov. But then it started to take too long just the first day so i scrapped that idea :P

Chapter 6: Captain/Reader first meet

Summary:

You felt nothing, there was nothing, but a blazing inferno around you.

The shouts of the wind blowing stronger than ever... the sand, digging into your wounds...

..this was the most pain you've ever felt in your life. So much of it, it dulled your body into nothingness.(what were you thinking of, when you boarded that ship?)

For a second, you swore you saw someone in the horizon.

Notes:

for: Anonymous

Stuff here:
– near-death experiences
– recovering from life-threathening injuries
– thats basically it 🧍‍♂️

You felt nothing, there was nothing, but a blazing inferno around you.



The shouts of the wind blowing stronger than ever... the sand, microscopic, invading your dry lips, digging into your wounds...



..this was the most pain you've ever felt in your life. So much of it, it dulled your body into nothingness. You couldn't feel a thing, yet you felt all of it. You felt the sand all around you (what were you thinking, when you boarded that ship?), the sweat and blood running down your skin, mixing into one gross liquid (there was so, so much blood. You'd be screaming if you weren't too exhausted to.), the heat distorting the imagery around you, of a desert, of a home. Your home. Or was it the blood loss' doing? You didn't know. You were too tired to know.



Your eyelids started to drop, and the last bit panic left started to overtake you, you didn't really want to die.



But what could you do? Your limbs didn't listen to you, as if you were trapped in your own body. You could do nothing but accept it.

Finally, you let death overtake you. It reminded you of an uncomfortably warm blanket slowly covering you, finally letting you rest. You let your eyelids drop. You wanted to be fine with this.

For a second, you swore you saw someone in the horizon.






You were being carried, (to where?)



Everything was too warm,



(Weren't you dead?) A part of you asked.



(What if this was death?)



You could feel...

The heat around you,

Arms holding you up,

Footsteps below you,

..breathing?

From you? Or the person carrying you?



The grip on your senses began to falter, and you went uncounscious once again.






There was nothing holding you up.



This time, you felt cold.

Cold, rough walls on your back, cold breeze passing through wherever you were, cold fabric holding your skin together...

(Bandages?)

Then, something warm approached you, and you couldn't help but lean into it.

It was small, the size of your hand, maybe a little bigger. The bandages, the warmth...



(You're alive,) A glimmer of hope shined in your mind, (someone saved you.)



A small smile, so honest that you couldn't hide, appeared on your face.






You opened your eyes for the first time.



You couldn't make sense of much, it was all too blurry. Splotches of dark browns and blacks and a bit of warm yellow you couldn't quite see well...

Your vision slowly cleared up.

It was completely dark, except for a lit lantern on the corner of your vision. You turned towards it.

The struggle, just to move your neck towards it, was immense. It seemed to weigh like an anvil, and the bones struggled to move like rusty iron. It pained you to turn, but you did so anyway.

You were, now, staring at the lantern. It wasn't warm like a human hand, or like the scorching desert, but just enough to be pleasant and just enough to feel lacking.



The silence told you there was noone else with you, atleast until it was interrupted by footsteps just outside.



And the footsteps didn't have much time to grow louder as you were staring at something.

You couldn't know what it was. Squinting your eyes, the most details you could see the were a black hat and splotches of yellow in a black figure.

It got closer to you, and that's when you figured out it was someone.

They were saying something you couldn't quite catch, but you figured you needed to respond to them, or give any sign that you're listening. The closer they got to you the more details you could pick out, of their clothes, the face, and the hat. A pirate hat.

You tried to make a noise, but that's when the fact you haven't drank anything hit you. Or more specifically, your raspy and dry throat.

No voice could be coughed out from you, as it seemed more like scratching sandstone in sandstone than an actual voice. Sharps waves of pure pain appeared the moment you tried to let air out your throat, sending you in a painful coughing fit. Surprisingly, it wasn't as dry as when you were on the brink of death.

Before you knew it, water was running to your mouth and you greedily drank all you could. Soon enough, there wasn't any water left and your throat felt as good as new.

You felt a little more awake, after that. Shapes and sounds got easier to discern and an ache that you didn't notice lessed in your head.



You tried talking to him now that your throat wasn't as dry as a sunbathing lizard. The person only called himself 'Captain', apparently. In return, you told him your own name.

Talking to Captain was easy, like swimming in the river's flow. Even when you had nothing to add, he always seemed to have a new topic or question in mind. You answered his questions of how you ended up stranded in the first place, and he told you short stories of his own adventures with his old crew. This went on long enough for you to not notice how much time had passed, and little by little, you found yourself finding an unnatural warmth in his voice.

It was nice to talk to him, it gave you a good distraction from the dulled ache all throughout your body. Plus, it was just fun hearing how him and his crew defeated a temple full of ninjas one time.



You still had a question haunting your mind, though. Bothering you throughout the entire, warm conversation. Swallowing the last bit of hesitation, you asked him why did he save you.

Afterall, you were a random stranger. You used up his medical supplies and water. Surely, he knew it could be a waste if you didn't survive, right?



A tired sigh (not tired, reminiscent.) escaped him. "Well, i couldn't just leave someone to die when i had the option to save them." He confessed, yet there was something beneath his honesty that you were sure he wasn't telling you.

You didn't bother him about it, though. If he didn't want to say it, you couldn't force it out of him.



Then, a question popped up on your head, one you were surprised to not have asked earlier.

You asked him for how long you were uncounscious.

A sigh escaped him, "Eh, it's been a week since i found ye. I got to the scene the moment i heard the explosion. It was a nasty crash, ey?"

'A week' that kept repeating itself inside your head. 'A week'.

You hummed, just to show you were listening.



For a long while, things got silent. The cold silence didn't reign over the air, and the warmth of the conversations, (of Captain,) still lingered to the air. (To your body.)

You started dozing off, your energy being washed away by the lack of interaction. Without any distractions, the aching on your bandaged wounds felt worse and worse. You willed yourself to close your eyes, desperate for sleep...

...then a warm hand pressed itself against you back, and you finally figured out what the warmth from when you were half-counscious was. Your face went red from embarrassment due to the memory.

"If yer going to sleep," he stood up, quicker than what your eyes could manage, "then let's go somewhere safer. It's gonna get freezing soon enough." Then he turned at you with a smirk, "And i will not be carrying ye this time."

"Yeah you will." You joked. Afterall, your body still ached and you were still wrapped in bandages. And you made sure to voice those exact thoughts to him.

"Ahh, ye win." He sighed, too over-the-top to be real.



"Come on." He grunted, you didn't even notice that Captain's arms were already on your back and legs, lifting you up with little effort. He carried you in a bridal style, and you wondered just how strong he actually was. Looking at his arms...

...you cut off that train of thought before things got dirty, forcing yourself to focus on anything else.



Soon enough, you found yourself nearly flying from the speed he was going. The wind wasn't too bad when you weren't going against it, and you couldn't help but fully doze off on Captain's arms.

Notes:

i smirked when i first thought of writing that line abt his arms (𝓖𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓽 𝓱𝓮𝓪𝓿𝓮𝓷𝓼 𝓲 𝓷𝓮𝓮𝓭 𝓽𝓱𝓪𝓽 𝓹𝓲𝓻𝓪𝓽𝓮 𝓬𝓪𝓹𝓽𝓪𝓲𝓷... wait what who said that.)

Chapter 7: Captain/Vagabond fluff

Summary:

The swordsman sat in a large, empty area on the floor, tense, but willing. He quickly stripped of his upper clothes, wanting to get it over with. The helmet, too, was disposed off, even if hesitantly so.

(Preening... is just cleaning the wings, right?) Captain tried to recall what Vagabond said before they went inside. He started near the shoulder, picking away and discarding debris. The touch was as gentle as he could muster.

Notes:

For: Anonymous

Notes: –Theres genuinely nothing to look out for 🧍‍♂️ other than me not knowing how to end it theres nothing really triggering

Enjoy ur meal !!!!

Captain lets Vagabond in, the atmosphere heavy with tension.



The swordsman sat in a large, empty area on the floor, tense, but willing. He quickly stripped of his upper clothes, wanting to get it over with. The helmet, too, was disposed off, even if hesitantly so. Stretching his wings, finally relieved of the uncomfortable shifting he subjected them to, a clear image of the work that Captain would have to do was revealed to him.

Captain felt nervous, he had never done any preening in his life, after all. Anxiety gnawed his stomach away.



The pirate sat cross legged behind his partner, careful to not step on one of his wings, who seemed to notice his nervousness.

"Hey," he started "I can, uh... guide you, if you want." It was clear he was nervous too, barely hiding it in his voice, "If you have any questions, i can answer them."

"Will you tell me if it hurts?"

"Yeah."

It was all Captain wanted to know.



And with that last exchange of words, which seemed to cut through the heavy air like sword and flesh, Captain willed himself to finally touch his wings.



For a moment, his hand stayed put, feeling the damaged feathers and muscles. The hand went down, and down, oil and dirt and sand and water dirtying his fingers, who caressed lovingly the cushion-like wings. The lighting provided by the afternoon sun bounced throughout the room and lit the feathers to pleasant colors. He never got to be this close to his wings, only admiring in a distance.



(Preening... is just cleaning the wings, right?) He tried to recall what Vagabond said before they went inside. He started near the shoulder, picking away and discarding debris. The touch was as gentle as he could muster.

Slowly, and very slowly, he made his way to the rest of the wings. Vagabond glared daggers at him whenever he pulled at a feather that wasn't too damaged, and Captain would quickly apologize, knowing his partner had a childish pout until he found some way to make up for it. Well, it wouldn't be now since his hands were full.



Despite his inexperience (and quite the few errors), Captain would say he was starting to do a pretty good job. He picked off loose feathers, who fell to the floor, then picked off the dirt, making sure to not use his nails no matter how small a grain of sand was, just to be sure he wouldn't hurt Vagabond, no matter how lightly.



Subconsciously, he brushed inbetween feathers, lightly touching the skin below. How could he not, when it pulsated such pleasant warmth that promised protection from the cold blizzards that Vagabond came from? Captain imagined what it would be like to sleep covered by them, like a big cocoon.



While Captain was okay with silence, it felt too tense. Words accumulated in his throat, of 'i love you's, compliments, jokes, yet he swallowed it all down knowing one wrong word would be enough for Vagabond to scurry away from this first moment of vulnerability, of trust, between them both.

It meant so much to him, to them both, this delicate moment. He didn't want to ruin it. And as Captain focused on the comfort of where he was, he felt glad Vagabond was finally okay with sharing something so sensitive and vital to him.





"Thereee... we go." After one last feather touched the ground, he was done with the preening session. At the expense of his hands, now covered in grime and oil.

A few beats of pure silence, then...

"...Thanks."

Vagabond finally mumbled out words after the entire ordeal. His wing curled in, then wrapped themselves around him, hiding himself from Captain. And by then, the pirate couldn't keep the words in anymore.

" 'ey," he called out, "yer wings are beautiful, ye know that?"

"I do know" he responded in a prideful tone, yet the wings shyly huddled closer to himself. Captain couldn't help but shift closer, chuckling with his partner's answer.

"I'm just glad yer okay with... this. Ye know, i've been eyeing them for a while, yer wings looked so soft..."

"Hey, now..." the swordsman turned back to fully glare at him, a smirk on both their faces. "It's not like you tried to hide it. Plus, it's just for my health. There are parts i can't reach, y'know?" He lied through his teeth.

"Aye, aye, Captain." The pirate giggled with the small conversation.

Notes:

I studied up more bird stuff than what i'd ever need to use in my life for this lmao

next request tell me to add math so i wont fail my next school semester 😼/J

Chapter 8: Main bosses (first meet)

Summary:

The sound of footsteps distracted them from the ominous person. King held the red robot on his arms like a big dog, complaining away about 'mech having to stop working at a place like this', or whatever he meant by that.

"Maybe it is not used to the altitude, with it being used to being in locations like Rocket Arena and the SFotH..." He mumbled away to noone in particular, "maybe if i added something for grip, so it would not lose it's balance so easily..." the small robot turned sharply towards King, a 'vhirr'ing sound emanating from it, expressing displeasure. King noticed, and was quick to try to calm it down, "Of--of course, i can't undo the works of the admins, only they and Roblox knows what would happen if i took off a Drakobloxxer's armor even if for just less than a second."

The sound didn't stop, but the robot did, somehow, look less tense.

Captain eyes widened. Putting two and two together, his heartbeat quickened as the realization dawned upon him.

 

" 'scuse me, did ye say 'Drakobloxxers'?"

Notes:

For: Curiosity_Guest

HII so i took... *checks date*... a literal WEEK to finish this request?? I usually try to keep the waiting time at 4 days max, but i have nothing to blame but my own lazyness for this, sorry :(( (its not even fully finished i gave up at the end😭 the rest is good tho)

I hope you enjoy enjoy what i cooked up nonetheless !!

Stuff here:
- Some fighting but nothing violent is shown
-prob some ass characterization cuz its been a while since i wrote King and i have NEVER written Jason

Vagabond sat atop a tall tree branch, just big enough for him to sit on. The reason he was in Crossroads was forgotten ever since he got distracted by a fight happening on the main clearing. He wasn't able to see much at first, but with the height advantage of sitting on the branch, he could now see the two people fighting-- no, one was hunting the other, who seemed to not want to fight, only evading the attacks. Vagabond was interested by this, since the person evading –a blob of black with what seemed like a pirate hat– looked to be nearly flying with the constant dashing.

While he'd say he mastered his sword, there was always something new to learn. Who knows? Maybe he could find a technique to blend with his own fighting style.



Vagabond heard footsteps behind him and his hand flew to the hilt of the sword on his back, but when he turned to the noise, the person –which he could barely see due to the foliage– held no weapons other than what sounded like a robot following them. Through the leaves, he could see a yellow light behind the misterious person, alongside some yellow and red glinting. The swordsman shifted to get a better look of them and they weren't even looking at the swordsman, as if he wasn't even there.

Vagabond was confused by this, his wings shifting uncomfortably. He coughed, looking to alarm the person of his presence –and hopefully get a better look of them if they got closer to the tree he was in–.

"I know you're there." The person said, unbothered.

Vagabond was even more confused now. A random person with no weapons, that already knew that he was hiding there, and wasn't alarmed? There had to be some kind of trap, or they were hiding a weapon somewhere...

(Right, the robot.) He mentally face-palmed. "So, who are you?" He asked distrustfuly.

"You may simply call me King." His voice boomed through the trees as if giving a speech. And Vagabond guessed what the yellow glint was: a crown.



The distant sound of gunshots rang out and the swordsman narrowly dodged a wave of gunshots towards his direction. The damaged tree didn't give him good promises that he would be safe if he stayed there, so he finally flew down to meet this supposed 'King'.



He didn't know what he expected King to look like, nor his robotic companion. The King wore blood-red armour with a cat's eye and the SFotH's fire ring surrounding it. He also had a golden crown atop his head, which the swordsman correctly guessed he had. The robot following him was dinosaur-like, it's top part encased in black plating while the bottom was red. Yellow accents glowed ominously in place of eyes and nostril. A particularly large light came from the front of their head, acting like a flashlight. Some of it's pipes, unpainted metals and inner machinations were easy to distinguish even with it's sturdy plating.

It tilted it's head, judging whether or not the swordsman was prey. He would never admit it outloud, but the little thing creeped him out.



King noticed that Vagabond's hand was on the hilt of his sword, fear prickled at the back of his neck from seeing it.

"Now, you haven't told me your name yet." The fear was swiftly hidden away, the only proof it was there was his gaze flickering towards the sword from time to time.

Vagabond didn't have much to lose from this one interaction, so he told him. Even if he was uncomfortable from just how casual King was making this interaction be, he had no choice but to follow where he was leading. Perks of being a public figure, he guesses.



It happened before the wind picked up. The force of impact left a trail of dirt and grass to fly off and destroyed branches ripped and scratched at his clothes.

Vagabond heard a voice through the snapping of branches and the wind that hit like a truck, an apology yelled out through the chaos, and just from the accent, Vagabond already knew it was the pirate that landed. He got up from the floor, sitting up and his wings shaking off the debris that fell on them. He could already feel the grass and wood between inbetween his feathers shifting, scratching... he huffed, those would be a pain to preen later.

The dust finally cleared out, and now he could see that the pirate stood on both legs as if he didn't just land like a meteor. They aimed their gun at the clearing, and that's when Vagabond noticed the rhirr of a chainsaw in the distance, which was closing in a bit too quickly for his liking.

Vagabond didn't want to be caught in the crossfire of the two, and looking at the pirate's face, it seemed he was getting tired of this too. So when the person finally came into view and a chainsaw blade flew out towards the pirate, unknowing of the two other people close by (where did King and his robot go, anyways?), Vagabond dashed behind them quicker than their eyes could follow and knocked his sword at their back, but before hitting the ground, he grabbed the arm that held their weapon harshly. The sword and a foot held him down, his grip on their arm faltered slightly once the chainsaw blade shot back to it's place. But ultimately, the person was stuck and it's arm at the risk of being dislocated.



(Geez. Even after all that, hes still holding the his weapon?) That was dedication the swordsman wished he could say he had. The person, who he now noticed wore a mask and red clothing, squirmed and tried to free their arm so they could rev up their chainsaw again, or to just try and free themselves, but it resulted to nothing, other than Vagabond's grip tightening.

Surprising to Vagabond, the pirate didn't immediately blow the person's brains out, "Ahoy there! thanks for the help, matey." He thanked, tilting his hat in greeting. And even though he wore an exhausted look on his face –and the fact that the masked one just tried to kill him–, he walked back towards the clearing, ready to take of again...

"Uh-- wait!" Vagabond called. And immediately regretted it once the pirate turned his head at him and the awkward air settled in. "I, uh... don't even know your name."

The pirate chuckled lightly, the previous hostility –that Vagabond didn't realize they had on– melted off their face, "name's Captain, matey."

Vagabond, then, decided to take the opportunity to ask another question, "Why won't you kill him? He literally just tried to maul-- stab??-- ugh, chainsaw you to death. Aren't you gonna finish the job?" The swordsman's words stumbled out.

Captain scoffed, "That wasn't even a real duel, this here scurvy dog" he spat out the name as if it personally insulted him, "just tried to hunt me down like a wild animal without even a greeting. It be shameful, really." He finished replying with bite on every word, not bothering to hide his anger. "So, to answer yer question: we should be given a proper duel before one o' us kill eachother."

Which was kind of insane, if you asked Vagabond. (So every time you need to fight for your life you go through the ettiquette of a duel?) He bit his own tongue to not say that outloud. That pirate was stressed enough, and the swordsman wasn't too keen on being on the receiving end of the barrel of a gun.



After the interaction, Vagabond noticed the person below him stopped squirming, now looking at Captain with a gaze they both couldn't decipher, darkened by the mask.



The sound of footsteps distracted them from the ominous person. While Vagabond couldn't see very well, the yellow shining gave away who the person aproaching was. King held the robot on his arms like a big dog, complaining away about 'mech having to stop working at a place like this', or whatever he meant by that.

King put the robot down, continuing to whisper away to the wind.

"Maybe it is not used to the altitude, with it being used to being in locations like Rocket Arena and the SFotH..." he mumbled away to noone in particular, Vagabond made sure to forget all the smart words he spilled out, choosing to focus on the body –that went fully limp– below him, "maybe if i added something for grip, so it would not lose it's balance so easily..." the small robot –which Vagabond was starting to have more and more questions about– turned sharply towards King, taking a few steps back and a 'vhirr'ing sound emanating from it, almost like it was expressing displeasure. King noticed, and was quick to try to calm it down, "Of--of course, i can't undo the works of the admins, only they and Roblox knows what would happen if i took off a Drakobloxxer's armor even if for just less than a second." The sound didn't stop, but the robot did, somehow, look less tense.



Captain eyes widened the moment King mentioned the Drakobloxxers. Putting two and two together, his heartbeat quickened as the realization dawned upon him.

" 'scuse me, did ye say 'Drakobloxxers'? 'Three thousand stud tall, demigods, destroyed anythin' in their path before the admins had to trap them' Drakobloxxers?!"



King looked at him, no amount of masking could hide the prideful shine on his eyes or the way his grin seemed anything but fake.

"Yes! As you have realized, this is a living, breathing Drakobloxxer! Ever since i got here, it wouldn't stop following me around, only distancing itself to create fires and chaos, but it seems attached to me!" He bragged, as if he had tamed the robot. It side-eyed the King, as if telling him 'No i am not.'



"Excuse me, but what's a Drakobloxxer?"



King and Captain turned to look at him as if he just asked what a shopkeeper did for a living. Their gazes were cutting through the heavily awkward air like knife and butter, and if he cowered from that, then that's between him and these people.



Ok. At this point the masked guy was the normalest person here.



"Blow me down, this here bucko does not know about the Drakobloxxers..." Captain whispered to himself, incredulous.



What happened next could only be described as a torture session –AKA, King describing in extensive detail the Drakobloxxer lore, followed by Captain telling the mystical tales of the primordial beings from before the admins–. While Vagabond was forced to listen to the older men yap, and the smaller version of the harbinger of fire went off to set chaos somewhere else, the masked person stirred, and Vagabond decided it was time to let the person go –which was a good way to end Captain's and King's stories. Vagabond would have to thank the person at a later date.–

The person looked at Captain dead in the eyes and pointed at him, then at himself, then readies his weapon in a fighting stance. For a moment, Captain didn't understand what they wanted. But then he smirked, and responded to them.

"Hmm... no."

They look baffled he straight up refused the duel. Captain holds back the urge to laugh.

"Ye invited me to a duel, and i refuse it." He continues to taunt the bloodthirsty chainsaw-wielder with comments alike, his 'revenge' for hunting him down for no good reason.



Vagabond decides to leave them be, sitting below a nearby tree. Coincidentally, the Drakobloxxer was there aswell.

It reminded Vagabond of what Captain and King told him about it. He was confused, afterall, the robot infront of him was able to be picked up by King, and the Drakobloxxer that the two described were gigantic, easily cutting through the skies.

"..you don't fit King's description of a Drakobloxxer, you're not even that scary." He laughed. The robot ignores his comment. Vagabond decides to clean his wings a bit, since there was nothing else to do.



After a while, the masked one stomped towards them. Clearly mad about something (likely Captain). He sits down near Vagabond.

The swordsman ignores him, opting to finish preening his wings while Drakobloxxer leaves to put something on fire. After a while, when Vagabond was sure Jason had calmed down, he decides to ask, "You're the only one i don't know the name of."

Jason shifted a bit, uncomfortably. Thinking. "Just... mind telling me? I just keep on calling you 'Masked person' in my head. I need a name."

Jason writes something in the dirt with his finger, catching Vagabond's attention. Once he finished, the name 'Jason' was written in the dirt.

"Huh... can't... you talk?"

'No', he wrote again.

Vagabond hummed. Despite how aggressive Jason was at first, now he just looked tense. He sat crosslegged under the shade of the tree, hands impossibly stiff.

He turned away from Jason (Jason. The first actual name he heard any of these people say.) Jason lightly poked his shoulder, pointing at a question in the dirt.

'What's your name?'

"The name's Vagabond, nice to meet you."



how do i end this. what 💔

Notes:

I messed up vagabond's name a lot so i put the misspelings in a list cuz i thought it was funny: Vagant, Vagbond, Vagabunded, avafond, Vagsbon

Dont ask how i messed his name up so hard 💔💔

Also i used "masking" that one part bc i literally didn't know any other word i could have used so now King's autistic ig. Oh well :P (also this is how i learned masking is a term specifically for neurodivergent ppl apparently???? The perks of being a fanfic author)

Chapter 9: ONE TIX isekai (PART 1: Beachroads)

Summary:

...Everything was the same. The shops, the grass, the elevator. Surely, there was no reason to worry if it was Happy Home, right? They just needed to finish their mission. Nothing more, nothing less.

Bloxxer walked towards the elevator, and if they snatched an unnatended pirate hat, then that's between them and whoever put them here.

Notes:

For: Curiosity_Guest

Im gonna do Chaos Carribbean but i dont want to keep the requester waiting too long

Also i wanted to do a comedy but. But i just cant. It all goes back to existencial crisis and i dont know how to stop it 💔💔

With that said, Stuff to look out for (ITS ACTUALLY REALLY IMPORTANT THIS TIME):
-existencial crisises (WHAT is this plural) that bloxxer tries to repress
-blood, violence, visibly killing a guy
-once again, me not being good at ending things 😞 (BUT ITS NOT UNFINISHED THIS TIME ))

Happy Home looked different. It wasn't unrecognizable, per say, the shops were still up on the same spots, the grass was as green as crayons, and even the elevator towards Crossroads was unchanged. Bloxxer figured that even if the buildings were destroyed and the chains that connected the islands were torn down, they'd still be able to recognize their home.

What was different was... everything else. The buildings were made of wood instead of yellow bricks. Instead of the islands floating above the void, they floated above an endless blue ocean.



(Wait, what am i doing back in Happy Home?!)



Bloxxer finally realizes whats around them, confusion and panic and more confusion fill their mind. The changes were more than the environment, Bloxxer's clothes were clean of blood, their weapons weren't with them and previous injuries were now nothing but scars. The last thing they remember was beating that Drakobloxxer, did they pass out due to their injuries and exhaustion? Was this a lucid dream?

(No-- you'd have full control over what happens in lucid dreams, that isn't the case here.) They objected, a drop of sweat running down their forehead as they looked around. If they were religious, a part of them could have sugested they died and went to heaven, but they weren't stupid enough to believe they had the right to.

...Everything was the same. The shops, the grass, the elevator. Surely, there was no reason to worry if it was Happy Home, right? They just needed to finish their mission. Nothing more, nothing less. It didn't matter that they got teleported to some kind of alternative universe of their home, or whatever the #### this was.

Yeah! They just needed to finish their mission. It had been their compass ever since they got dropped off at Crossroads, that dictated their every choice. Surely, it wouldn't fail them now, as it never did!



Bloxxer walked towards the elevator, and if they snatched an unnatended pirate hat, then that's between them and whoever put them here.






After a long, long wait as the elevator went up and they had chosen their weapons –A sword and, one of their favorites, the rocket launcher– the Bloxxer arrives at... Crossroads?



Much like Happy Home, it had a tropical-esque makeover. Palm trees littered all around, torches were lit, and it was significantly hotter and more humid than what they remembered it being. –Though, that could just be them being more used to the much colder and much drier Glass Houses and Rocket Arena.–



Something moved not too far away, charging towards them with ill-intent, a yellow-skinned person wearing a red bandanna around their head and similarly red clothes. It took Bloxxer a bit of time to realize that it was a noob dressed like a pirate.

They killed the noob with a simple slash of the sword, and a groan escaped their mouth after they saw more enemies charge and realized that everyone received a makeover.



They dashed behind one enemy that held a ship wheel as a shield, correctly guessing it was a bobby. They made quick work of it before dealing with the rest of the crowd. Nothing about how the enemies behaved was new, so it was much easier to deal with than the crowds of Rocket Arena and such, if only they'd stop screaming, then it would be a good break.

Evading away, the Bloxxer gathered enough enemies in one place. They blocked the noob's attacks with their sword, pointed the rocket launcher towards the floor and clicked--



BOOM!



The explosion gave Bloxxer a small break from the fight, even if the wind as they fell brought the foul stench of blood towards them and the ringing in their ears was sharply painful. Atleast the enemies' deaths were immediate so they didn't have with screaming on top of that.

They dashed towards the gunmen hidden around before their feet touched the floor, parrying shots whose explosions only aided the ringing in their ears. It was far from relaxing, but definetly a break from their past battles.

The waves of enemies were dealt with, warm blood uncomfortably clinging to their clothes. They forgot how nice clean clothes were, and now it was too late to enjoy them.



The distant rhirr of a chainsaw caught Bloxxer's attention, signaling Jason was nearby. If this fight was going to be the same as the first time, then they weren't too worried, even more now that they know all his moves. And from the waves of noobs, they guessed his fighting style wasn't going to differ from when they first fought. All of that to say that they weren't really worried about him.

Bloxxer turned to the noise, their sword ready to go against Jason's chainsaw. The killer revealed himself, bloodthirsthy and ready for a fight.

They paused, eyeing his appearance. While, yes, they expected him to look different, he just didn't look piratey.

They pull themselves out of their own head when the killer starts getting dangerously closed, slashing his chainsaw foward with small boosts of speed. Bloxxer dashes to the side, continuously evading his slashes as they observe him.

Jason wore a black shirt, a greenish jacket over it, and black pants. His body type was different too, so good for him, they suppose. The outfit had definetly seen better days, and the only thing that didn't change was his mask. Bloxxer couldn't rationalize a pattern. Everything was more pirate-like, even to a stereotypical degree. Then Jason just didn't follow that rule. It was confusing them. Jason, meanwhile, was getting impatient that this person wasn't even paying attention to the fight. They just dodged and dodged each of his attacks, in an uninterested haze. It infuriated him.



Atleast, that gave him an advantage.



He stopped his own steps and launched the chainsaw foward, catching the bloodied person off-guard. The person, having run out of dashes, was forced to lock back in.

Bloxxer blocked the chainsaw blade away, who hurried back to it's wielder. They were curious about how that worked. Maybe if they got their hands on that chainsaw, they could find something cool they could recreate on their own weapons! Though, theyre not sure if they were allowed to tinker them around--



(####, focus!) They scolded themselves. Jason got ahead of them, lunging fowards with the chainsaw pointed fowards. Before he got too close, Bloxxer went foward with their own blade, parrying the attack.

Ignoring his enraged state, they checked if their rocket launcher was ready to be used again. The empty click of the trigger didn't launch anything, so they equipped their sword once more, just in time to parry another one of Jason's slashes.

The impact of his own weapon against himself sent him flying to the floor. Bloxxer took advantage of this, spamming their sword against him as he struggled to get away. Eventually, he stopped their blade with his –now turned off– chainsaw. The block gave him enough time to stand up and distance himself from Bloxxer, revving up his chainsaw on the way.

Bloxxer dashed at him, uncaring that the ability was limited. But before they could reach him, he sent his weapon flying around him in loops, a deadly attempt to stop Bloxxer in their tracks before he was ready to retaliate.

After 8 loops around him, his blade was back in it's place. He lunged towards Bloxxer before they had the chance to attack him first.

Jason slashed again and again, faster each time. Bloxxer wanted to dash away, but they didn't have enough dashes ready to be sure they'd be safe once they did. So now they were forced to play defense.

A clang of metal and metal, sparks flew out. The force of the impacts were weakening the sword wielder's arms, Jason slashing away at their chest and arms at the slightest opening. Before he could do any more damage, the person flew away faster than he could follow. The wind picked up on him, but he didn't let himself fall again, however painful it was for his legs.

When he looked for the bloodied person again, he found them at the other side of crossroads unskillfully hiding behind a tree. He ran, preparing to throw their chainsaw towards the coward.



Bloxxer leaned against the tree, yet not letting themselves relax. They were caught by surprise. Sure, the slash from their chest to their shoulder was no more than a scratch compared to what they once had to deal with, but they scolded themselves for not paying attention. Even if it was a carbon copy of Jason and his patterns, pretty much the easiest greater user they fought, they shouldn't underestimate him. It just gave him an advantage, and they should have--

They stopped themselves. Jason was still here, he was enraged, and they could scold themselves at a later time. They looked once again at the rocket launcher on their inventory. (Surely, its been long enough..?)

The killer's angry stomps were enough to pull Bloxxer out of the tree, sword in hand. The chainsaw had already been launched towards them. But instead of blocking it again, they launched it back at him.

The weapon met it's wielder's mask, cracking it and meeting his face before bouncing back to his hands. He fell from the impact and the pain, but Bloxxer wasn't done until the enemy was dead.

Pulling out their rocket launcher, they hurriedly aimed at him. The explosion wasn't much, but their ears didn't appreciate the constant explosions of the day.



Quiet filled the air, yet the blinding explosion lingered on Bloxxers ears and eyes. Despite the loud and sharp ringing, they could tell there were no more footsteps, no more gushing blood, no more breathing.



Bloxxer sucked in a breath, disgustingly tasting like blood and death. They didn't mind it, as long as air was still breathed in. They hurried fowards, ready to finish the job if the explosion wasn't enough. But when they reached the killer, sure enough, he didn't breathe.

Much like when they first killed him, Bloxxer fought against their own curiosity and let their mask be. Their gaze drifted towards his chainsaw, but it was too destroyed for them to salvage anything.



The familiar noise of the elevator caught their attention. The shop rose up, and the more Bloxxer looked, the more they realized that nothing changed. It was a beacon of familiarity in an otherwise changed environment. Their eyes beamed, rushing towards the building with newfound joy.

The shopkeeper greeted them, before complaining about how they forgot how Bloxxer reeked of blood. Bloxxer takes note of this, realizing that the Shopkeeper was the same as the one where they came from. (So it is real. This is real. Theres someone else here, someone that remembers the last campaign and remembers me. The last campaign happened, and this one isn't a dream and shut it, shut it, SHUT IT you just need to focus on the mission.)

"Yes, yes, i can see the cogs turning in your brain and what not. But if you want information, you know what i want in turn." They smugly added the last part, much to Bloxxer's dismay.

Bloxxer opened their mouth to question, voice raspy and quiet from disuse, "How much?"

"Ehh, i'd say... 50 tix."

Bloxxer was visibly even more dismayed at this. "Hey, hey!" The Shopkeeper was quick to counter, "You'll still have money for new weapons, seeing you rushed these guys. So do you want the information, or not?" They crossed their arms, impatiently glaring at their sole costumer. Said costumer hesitated, but soon held up exactly 50 tix towards the Shopkeeper, who beamed a costumer-service smile in return.

"Well," they started, hiding away the tix, "i don't know much about this place, except that everythings the same if not for the aesthetic differences. But i eyed a bit of your index, and it looks like there are new slots." He pulled out said index, and Bloxxer was more so worried about how they got their hands on that. The costumer snatched it away from them, panickly searching if any entry had been modified.

The Shopkeeper didn't mind their behaviour, going back to talking, "I don't know about you, but this seems to me like it's not just an aesthetic change. See that silhouette, right next to the pirate captain? That's a new guy. And from what i've heard, he'll be replacing the guy." As they pointed out, Bloxxer realized there were more slots. Not just for the new bosses, but new enemies aswell.

"You noticed those too, huh?" They leaned closer to the index, still in their costumer's hands. Bloxxer shushed them away, unappreciative of their peeking.

The shopkeeper grumbled quietly before getting back to business, "Yeah, you'll need to prepare for those guys. And... that's all i know, and all i can tell you." Then, a smug smile appeared, "So... anything else you'd like to buy?"



Bloxxer ended up buying a slingshot before going on their merry way. And unfortunately, they had to find the other elevators all over again, and the old landmarks being changed didn't help.

Now, completely alone, only their thoughts made up their company. Which was bad, because all those did was remind them that this had a chance of not being real, that if it was a work of their own mind then the Shopkeeper could have very much not have been real and--

(But the scars.) They interrupted that train of thought, (the scars are still here. So atleast the last campaign was real.)

They calmed down a bit, but the thoughts still clung to them, trying to avoid them was like walking in a floor with a thick layer of soap and water.

(I just want it to be over soon...) ..if they had to redo the entire campaign but with more annoying enemies, they might as well enjoy the quiet moments as much as they can and not dwell on paranoia. They just had to focus on the present moment. On their mission.

Notes:

Im planning on ((TEMPORARYLY)) closing requests after finishing the bloxxer/captain since im going on vacation in a few weeks :P i'll put details on another chapter when the time comes

Yap session u dont need to read:
When i first wrote the second chapter, it was a slice of my interpretation of Bloxxer and what happened in CI's lore and it was FILLED to the brim with headcanons/theories, even if i hid them in the actual chapter. After a while i went "wait this is too edgy" and it was starting to contradict the confirmed canon so i restarted my headcanons from the ground up :P

Revisiting that chapter made me cringe but also shoutout to younger me (from like a few months ago. It wasn't even that long ago wtf)

Sigma

Chapter 10: ONE TIX isekai (PART TWO: Chaos Carribbean)

Summary:

The pirate stood up from the rubble of their arrival, and he looked even more like a stereotypical pirate captain than Captain. A long, loose jacket gently flew with the breeze, and he had the same eyepatch and hook as Captain.

He turned towards them faster than Bloxxer could react, but before they could get in a fighting stance--

 

"ARRR! THERE BE TREASURE!"

 

...And he started sppining in place like a 3d model. Bloxxer just stared, unable to move, dumbfounded.

Notes:

For: Curiosity_Guest

Final part bc i wont have the time and energy to do the rest 💔

Stuff here (not as bad as last time)
-Violence but its not graphic
-its now more lighthearted hell yea B)

Bloxxer waited inside the elevator, doing nothing, because just what else was there to do?



Limbs yearning for action and bored out of their mind, they kept themselves busy thinking: Atleast when they were searching for the actual thing, they were doing something. They could see the sun slowly go below the horizon, they got to walk around... Here? They couldn't even tell time.



Literally the least boring thing to do here was pace around and daydream. And mess with their stolen pirate hat from time to time.



For someone that had to get on those atleast 6 times by now, you'd expect them to be a little patient, but that's how they killed time: complaining away to noone but themselves.



Finally, the elevator started to slow, and Bloxxer sighed in relief that the wait would be over soon. They stretched, fixed their hat, checked all their weapons, and got ready to see how Chaos Chanyon changed.



Their eyes quickly adjusted to the blinding sunlight. Bloxxer didnt know what they expected, but what greeted them hit them like a wave.

Instead of being the same dry desert of their first campaign, a river which spread throughout made so much difference to the place. The air was refreshing, so much greenery had grown, and just looking at it, they could tell the waters werent deep. Despite the scorching hot sun, the –what once was a– desert was much more refreshing than what even Crossroads was. In the distance, a large wooden ship could be seen. With whimsy, they wondered if they could still call it a "Chanyon" anymore, reminding them more of a tropical beach or island.



The first wave of enemies appeared, and Bloxxer grinned at finally being able to fight again. Dancing around gunshots, they shot with their slingshot in one hand and in the other, used their sword as a shield. Parrying waves of shots, dodging, their plan was just "Parry bullets, target, hit" and so on, and while they knew they'd have to switch strategies when the enemies got harder –ahem, giants–, it worked now, so that was that.



They barely noticed when the enemies were all dead. With the weapons and moveset that they were most used to, fighting was a breeze, almost calming. After their massacre, they had to wait just a little longer before...

...The shop finally appeared! They carelessly dash towards it, realized they didnt have enough money to buy anything, and the Shopkeeper left with despair in their eyes, as melodramatic as a shakesperean charachter. Bloxxer couldn't help but giggle at the sight.



As soon as he left, gunshots rang out and the Bloxxer thrown right was back into combat. With the recoil and burning of the shots that hit them, they rush to pull out their sword and slingshot and quickly scanning the new wave of mostly ranged enemies –who they started to realize looked a lot more like modern sailors than pirates.–



(fight scene here srry😭)



The last enemy was gone, and now, Bloxxer got ready for the one that was yet to arrive: Captain.

Or, well, his replacement.

Not too long after, the last enemy landed like a meteor, much like the first time Bloxxer had seen him. But now, with the knowledge this was someone else...



...they needed to prepare for anything.



The pirate stood up from the rubble of their arrival, and he looked even more like a stereotypical pirate captain than Captain. Alongside similar hat and clothes, a long, loose jacket gently flew with the breeze, and he had the same eyepatch and hook.

He turned towards them faster than Bloxxer could react, but before they could get in a fighting stance--



"ARRR! THERE BE TREASURE!"



...And he started sppining in place like a 3d model. Bloxxer just stared, unable to move, dumbfounded.



With lightning speed, the pirate flew away firing at them with his flintlock, catching them off-guard. All three gunshots burned at their skin, but they ignored the pain to dash away from the rest.

Once they finally recovered, they pulled out multiple pellets, throwing them to the air and slashing them with their sword towards the pirate. They didn't understand how, but those always hit their target. The enemy didn't have time to dodge as the split ammo moved at lighting speed. He retaliated with his more of own shots, this time with his Blunderbuss.

A wave of gunshots rushed towards Bloxxer, but they grinned, sending most shots right back at him. Some landed, some didn't, but now they knew that this guy had the same attack patterns as Captain. Feeling confident, they rushed towards him hoping he threw a barrel. The sword was glued to their hands, the flat side of the blade ready to throw back the explosives.

Send a barrel he did, flying away across the river once he did so. He wasn't able to go far when the barrel was launched back and exploded on his back. He crashed near the tall fortress. Not yet willing to end the fight so soon, he took cover under the stairs, regaining his breath. He started to plan ahead, if the fight went south for him.



The Bloxxer was soon to catch up with him, who in turn, did more of the same moves, all of which were parried back to him. Captain Blackbeard, who's name Bloxxer didn't know, then started to realize a pattern.

They fought as if they already knew all his moves, cocky and confident about their own abilities.



Then, he decided to be risky.



Bloxxer closed in on him again, but instead of dashing away like every other time, he pulled out his blunderbuss and went towards them, surprising them enough to stop their own moves, even if for a second. The grip on his blunderbuss tightned, not slowing down.



He swung the blunderbuss with as much strenght as he could muster, Bloxxer's head flying from the impact and their body crashing with the floor with a thud. White hot pain filled their senses, it was as if they got hit with a flash grenade. The sky was too bright, the scorching sun burning their eyes as they slowly got a grip on their own body again. There, lying on the fire-hot sand with gunshots throughout their body and an explosive headache, they slowly processed what happened.



Then it clicked.



The pirate hit them on the head with an oversized metal gun.



And he ####### escaped.



And noone escaped them! –Except Vagabond, but he didn't wack them in the head like it was a tennisball.–

#########, if Bloxxer had to compare Captain and his overdetailed wannabe, they'd say Captain was far better than him. Whoever he was, he didn't greet them, just spouted about some 'treasure' then started the duel.

Struggling to see and sitting up painfully, they could still see him flying away, but he was a speck of dust in the distance, too far away for Bloxxer to hunt him down with a head injury. Apparently since he couldn't shoot them to death, they now had to deal with brain damage for the rest of the campaign. They were definetly adding some extra insults to his index entry.



Okay, okay. They're gonna focus now. They got up, their vision was off, like it was doubled and one image tried to catch up with the other. It took them a little too long to realize the shop was going up.

Once it arrived and Bloxxer finished stumbling towards it, the Shopkeeper wordlessly threw a small box at them, not even asking for payment first, which set off alarm bells in Bloxxer's mind: They would never give anyone anything for free.

Their mouth was already open, but Shopkeeper beat them to it, "It's on the house, i could feel your evil energy when i was going up. Learn to lose sometimes, will you?"

Bloxxer was confused, until they looked at the object in their arms and realized it was a medkit. Were they that injured? They could still function normally, if not for the skull-shattering headache, so they decided to put it in a corner of their inventory, just in case Rocket Arena went as bad as the first time.

(And specially since it would be changed, too. Even if the structure looks the same, anything changing could be dangerous for something so high up in the air, like, if it was made of wood, i'd need to focus on the firemen first so they won't destroy the arena. And the Drakkobloxxer, even if it fights the same way...)

Fingers snapped in front of them, and Bloxxer forced themselves to listen to what the Shopkeeper was saying.

"Geez, the hit was that bad." They joked to themselves, Bloxxer didn't find anything about this situation humorous. The Shopkeeper's hand retracted back to the window, "Anyways, you already know what i want, so what do you need?"

Well, Bloxxer needed a new skull, but that was on it's way to be kinda fixed. And considering the tix they got was only enough for a new gear, which they didn't need, they decided to not buy anything.

"W--what?! I can smell the tix with you!" (Ok, freak.) "Are you sure you don't need a new weapon? An upgrade?"

"No." they responded way too quickly, just to see the depression cloud the minimum-wage worker's eyes once more, much more fitting for their job. Bloxxer was such a nice costumer.

Shopkeeper didn't grace them with a response, instead choosing to fall into a silent despair, regetting that they didn't charge the medkit. But if they truly did feel Bloxxer's "evil energy" –them being pissed off at a cartoonish, unrealistic and rude pirate– then they'd find a way to capitalize off their situation. So Shopkeeper should just find a way to deal with it.



Exchanging pleasantries –Bloxxer much more joyously than Shopkeeper, who grumbled about getting their tix eventually like a saturday-morning cartoon villain–, the shop went down once again, leaving Bloxxer to deal with the dreaded inferno that would be the journey towards the next elevator.



When they looked towards the direction they thought next elevator was, they saw that the river did not flow there. They felt disapointed, betrayed, at the realization. Out of all the good changes Chaos Chanyon had received, it couldn't give one small bit of it's blessing?! A mutiny, it was!

The Shopkeeper had already left, so there went their chances of getting a water bottle for the journey, too. (They'd probably charge me for one, anyways...) And thus, they started their arduous trek towards the next elevator.






After the journey, one which nearly left them passed out on the middle of nowhere, they finally arrived at the elevator to Glass Houses. With a throat as dry as the sand they walked on and the yearning for sleep haunting their whole body, the Bloxxer couldn't have been more thankful of finding the elevator while also cursing it's creator's entire bloodline for building them so far away from eachother.

Their legs finally gave in to exhaustion and their body fell limp on the floor. The doors closed behind them automatically, a grunt from the mechanisms that were older than the person inside. With the last bit of energy they still had, they sat up, leaning on one of the corners and pulling out their index.

Their writing wasn't as good as it could have been, but the first draft had already been made with all the information they could remember about the new enemy. The text got a bit off-track sometimes, but Bloxxer was exhausted, injured, thirsty, and frankly didn't care. The name on his entry was still blacked out, and Bloxxer just couldn't wait to meet him again and find out. Their rage was very short-lived, sleepyness taking over their head.



They thought about how the other areas would look like, their hazed mind made their imagination feel a bit too real. Maybe they were already dreaming, despite still being half-awake. But for now, they could do nothing but wonder.

Notes:

"And they lived happily ever after" or smth 😭😭 anyways this was actually really fun to write, i am projecting my skill issues at Bloxxer like a mental link and thats making them really pisse doff B )

I genuinely forgot abt the gears but oh well its not like theyre a game changer if you know how to use them right. Alongside the hats. I litterally just found out the effects the pirate hat guves. I am such a formidable and responsible writer./sarcasm

Chapter 11: Not a Chapter

Summary:

Basically im REALLY drained due to my schedule, so i dont have the motivation to write... more details in the actual text

Agh so sorry for taking so long to post anything 💔💔💔:((

 

If ur wondering whats going on, nothing bad happened lol. Its just that my passion for combat iniciation is dwindling cuz my other interests are a lot more active. Then theres also school, which isnt too prestigious but i need to focus on getting my grades back up. Then theres my extra english+math classes, and a drawing course, and a coding one on its way.... all that combined makes it hard for me to find motivation to write, i end up doomscrolling etc etc

When i was at break and i was bored out of my mind, it was easy to focus my unused energy into doing this. But now that my schedule is full im pretty much out of energy.

I know it doesnt excuse leaving this work for over a month, but im getting kinda burnt out and writing isnt my priority currently. I'll still b making requests (THE CAPTAIN/READER IS ON ITS WAY I PROMISE), but pleaasseee keep this in mind!!!! Tyy for your patience (ówò")