antilocaprine:

(Kiss Prompt List)

Once I thought about this prompt in context of @melonsharks’ Pirate!AU, I absolutely had to do it. This was supposed to end shortly after the kiss, with only a brief reference to what happens after, but then I wanted to write the cool climactic scene, and then I realized that the part after the kiss had taken up way more space than the part before the kiss. Ah well. Sometimes it’s like that.
(Also, a savvy reader may recognize elements of the climax from a Redwall book, though I’ll be danged if I can remember which one. I read all of them multiple times as a kid, so just trust me on this. It was a very cool scene.)

36: …to give up control.

Gordon comes to flat on his back, and he must have only been knocked silly for a moment, because particles of wood and dust are still falling through the new hole in the deck that he’s staring up at. Through the gap, he can see a section of the mast and the sails, tattered at one corner where a cannonball took out a rope and tore the edge loose, sending the cloth fluttering in the breeze.

Overhead, there are pounding footsteps and shouts, but Gordon can’t focus enough to think about that right now - he’s too busy trying to pull air into his deflated lungs. His hook scrapes the planking he’s laying on, but he hasn’t got enough strength yet to haul himself upright. He can’t catch his breath - why can’t he catch his breath?

“Great shot, Bubby!” Coomer bellows from somewhere on the deck above, and Gordon relaxes slightly. He hadn’t realized he was still tensed up, and that movement allows air into his shocked lungs in a painful, burning rush. He wheezes a few breaths in, then kicks his elbows back and manages to push himself up far enough to see that there’s a spar of wood punched through his right calf.

“Where’s the captain?” Tommy’s voice yells, sounding more distant than Coomer’s.

“He’s right - oh. Oh, dear.” Coomer’s voice gets closer, and then his head is silhouetted poking over the edge of the new hole in the deck. “Ah! Hello, Gordon!”

Keep reading

antilocaprine:

(Kiss Prompt List)

I’m stealing the setting of @melonsharks 90’s cryptid hunter AU again, this time with a slightly more gory creature fight.

4: …where it hurts.

Benrey is utterly and unequivocally fucked.

They’ve been at Bubby and Coomer’s vacation cabin in the woods for two days, hunting after some rumored creature that Benrey didn’t pay attention to the debrief of. Since he’s currently in pieces in the trees half a mile from the cabin in the middle of the night, he probably should have. 

But it’s too late now - he’s hurting and bits of him keep falling off, but he has to keep moving, dragging himself through the dark, because the thing isn’t dead, and it’s still going after Gordon.

He sensed it the day before when Gordon was setting up his newest gadget. He was super excited about it, chattering about the infrared trigger and the type of film, and then he nicked his hand on a buckle as he strapped the boxy thing to a tree. 

Benrey’s used to smelling Gordon’s blood - he doesn’t like it, but the guy’s a klutz and it happens a lot, especially since they spend a lot of time wandering around rickety old buildings in the dark. But what Benrey is not used to is other things zeroing in on that blood scent, and he doesn’t like it. He especially doesn’t like that he can’t see the thing, no matter how many eyes he throws out. (Gordon had said it sounds like a ghoul, but Gordon also seemed very uncertain about that, and kept checking his notes.)

Now, Benrey’s struggling to claw together enough of a limb to drag himself forward, because the not-ghoul has just handed his ass to him on a paper plate. He knows he’s trailing toneless sweet voice, off-color hues dribbling from the jaws scattered across his form. He has to hold his breath to track the damn thing - he hurt it, too, but not as bad as it hurt him, and he still can’t see it.

Benrey closes all of his eyes to listen, then gathers himself and lunges for the nearest big tree. He slings several tendril-limbs around the trunk, the bark cutting into his form, but his claws sink into something that gives a raspy shriek and thrashes in his grip.

Keep reading

antilocaprine:

(Kiss Prompt List)

(I’m stealing the 90’s cryptid-hunting AU from @melonsharks for this because I got An Image in my head and had to run with it. There are over 2k words under the cut.)

23: …in relief

“Okay, this looks like the right spot,” Gordon murmurs. The old house is pitch dark even though the power’s still technically connected. Gordon says it’s more authentic to have the lights off when he’s hunting whatever creature of the night he’s heard rumors about that week.

“Why’s that?” Benrey’s got his hands in his pockets, because while he doesn’t know whatever Gordon thinks might be in here, Benrey knows it’s a wraith. He can feel its presence tingling on the back of his neck, and his fingers have already curled into claws in reflex. Wraiths are predators, and Benrey’s never been very good at being prey.

“Look at the readings,” Gordon says, tilting the screen of his current handheld machine toward Benrey, who bends his head obligingly to look. Sure enough, the little ticker arm is bouncing between the yellow and red on the right-hand side of the little colored arch behind the window, and it’s emitting a merry series of clicks and chirps.

“That’s…sure is some readings,” Benrey says. Gordon huffs and pulls the machine back.

“Just keep an eye out for anything weird,” he says, and moves carefully away across the creaky floor. Benrey rolls his eyes at him, even as he tightens his claws into fists.

Keep reading