Story cover for Dark Waters Rising	[BXB] [COMPLETED]  by OminouslyAnonymous
Dark Waters Rising [BXB] [COMPLETED]
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    Reads 918,639
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    Parts 70
  • WpHistory
    Time 6h 45m
  • WpView
    Reads 918,639
  • WpVote
    Votes 47,329
  • WpPart
    Parts 70
  • WpHistory
    Time 6h 45m
Complete, First published Mar 15, 2020
"Very good, Wesley," he breathed, the warm air fanning across the merchant captain's face. "Now I suggest you listen closely because I don't do this very often."

Wesley curiosity grew, though he kept a healthy degree of skepticism as he listened to the pirate.

"I'm prepared to offer you a deal."

"What kind of deal?" he asked, his heart racing.

"I seem to have found something that I want even more than your ship's cargo," he said with an unsettling smirk. "And I am prepared to let what remains of your crew sail free if I get it."

"Name your price," Wesley said, at this point ready to agree to anything if his crew would live.

Valentine reached out and tilted Wesley's head up so he could get a better view of it. His smirk seemed to grow as he let one little word slip through his lips.

"You."

*This is an LGBTQ+ story*
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The Pirate King (MxM) ⚣ ✓

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When Alistair Melek gave his life to the sea, a various degree of things changed. For starters, his love for bloodshed was exemplified. Bolder. He was drawn to the clash of a sword, blood spiling below to floorboards, like a moth drawn to a flame. And this love was damned to spread through his crew as some treacherous disease, claiming any and all who joined. But he knew this was the price he'd pay. The price for the sea itself. So when his crew completes another standard loot and pillage from a merchant ship, he allows his men a bit of fun. He liked to give them an audience, rounding up those who didn't fall victim to the blade during battle, and forcing them to beg for their lives. To prove how much they really wanted to live. Alistair had ruled the sea for some years now. Killed thousands, maybe tens of thousands. Destroyed hundreds, maybe thousands of vessels. And yet, each feeble human was all the same. There was not one man he threatened that didn't beg for their lives with all they had in them when faced with the wrong end of the sword. Each feeble human was always the same. Or so he thought. And yet, he also thought that this would be one standard job. A treat for his men after a night of good work. But this particular survivor, the one with long white hair and dead looking eyes... He wasn't a merchant. He couldn't have been. More important, there was no hesitancy when Alistair asked the fairly built man whether he wanted to live, and the man replied with a simple no.