Two Steps From Hell - Winterspell
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@dishonest-man
Two Steps From Hell - Winterspell
Honestly. It’s the honest ones you want to watch out for, because you can never predict when they’re going to do something incredibly … stupid.
Welcome Home (Jack)
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Well, If This Isn't a Surprise (Jack Sparrow/Davy Jones)
"Oh, by the gods," Jones grumbled. He yanked the bottle of blood from Jack’s hands, poured the half bottle of rum he had left by his feet into it, then pushed it back into Jack’s hands. "I don’t wanna be hearin’ you sigh and grumble all the way back to England, you twat."
At Jack’s next words, Jones turned an eye full of anger and hatred toward him. ”You’re not my captain and you’ll never be my Captain. Our quarrel over this ship may be finished, but I can still deprive you of it anytime I wish. You’d best be rememberin’ that, boy,” he hissed. He finally turned his eyes back toward the horizon. ”Just a couple of days now,” he whispered.
Jack closed his eyes in fear as the slimed bastard heaved himself over towards him. To his surprise and luck, Davy had only grabbed for the neck of the bottle and not his own.
He watched him pour the rest of his rum into it. Jack held in a gold toothed smile until Jones had given it back and turned back to his post. Jack bit his tongue at the sudden outburst, hiding himself behind the slim bottle. "Aye." He mumbled, having only been joking with him in the first place.
The two of them kept quiet for quite some time. Jack enjoyed his rum n' blood and Davy Jones kept his eyes on the horizon, taking out his tobacco pipe every once in a while and inhaling. Jack would watch as the smoke dispersed into the wind, wondering to himself what it was like to smoke. Surprisingly enough in all his years he'd never once tried the substance. Mainly for the reason the smell alone reminded him of Jones. Drunken in thought, he'd half convinced himself if he took up smoking, Jones would appear whenever he'd light the tobacco. Although completely far fetched, a part of him still couldn't chance it.
Breaking the silence, Ruumi, Jack's age old cat had come upon deck and rubbed herself up against Jack's bent knee, purring and letting out playful meows. Jack pet her as she demanded, making sure to scratch right underneath her chin where she liked it. Jack was worrisome how Jones would react around the cat, and in an attempt to keep her close to him, she'd jumped out of his arms and made herself comfortable by Jones's legs, weaving herself between them. "Ruumi," he called for her, "get out of there you nosey git." She'd only glanced his way for a moment before continuing, purring away.
Hungry Ghosts | I Don’t Think About You Anymore But, I Don’t Think About You Anyless
Welcome Home (Jack)
Rosalyn almost couldn’t believe he eyes and feelings, sheepish smile from the now immortal Captain Jack Sparrow? Oh, this would be fun. It was a rarity for Rosalyn to be dominant to the degree that she was feeling this evening, especially over someone like Jack, but she was going to take him for all she could. Of course, at some point in the evening, she knew Jack would lose his patience and become dominant himself, but that would all be part of the fun.
Without any single ounce of shame or hesitation, her hips ground against his, only the material of his clothing separating their skin. She knew there was a reason she had fallen asleep without panties on tonight. As she spoke, her hips pressed harder against his cock and her voice was a bare whisper laced with a growl in his ear. ”A condemned man is most certainly what you are.” Her nails scraped up along his jawline and back around to the nape of his neck where she balled a bit of his hair in her hand and tugged. ”Three hundred years, Jack!” She growled in his ear. “How am I to forgive you for that in one night?”
She untangled herself from his body and stood on her own. ”Oh, I am mad at all of you, but I do believe there may be one or two parts of you that could be of use this evening.” With that, she crossed her arms over her chest and discarded her shirt on the ground, leaving her totally nude. ”Follow me.” She said, reaching out to lightly squeeze his cock through his pants before turning toward her room,
As she opened the door and Jack followed her through, she closed and locked the door behind them. ”Sit.” She commanded, pointing to the chair in the corner. Once he did, she straddled his lap, still completely nude. ”You’re right, my love, I have missed you, both inside and out, and you hold a large piece of my heart. You always will. However … ” She murmured, hands reaching down to undo the laces of his pants. ”I do believe you’re in for a bit of … punishment, perhaps we can call it.”
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Welcome Home (Jack)
Although she would have preferred to go be able to get Jack again herself with Terran’s approval, Tolaas had sent Davy Jones to get him before she even had a chance to discuss things with Terran. It was quite the ordeal, having Tolaas find out she had turned Jack, but Tolaas had come around eventually. She wasn’t sure how long the journey would take, what sort of condition Jack would be arriving in, or anything else, but she was sure that Jack would be there. Jones was terrifying if nothing else, especially to Jack.
She had spent the better part of a week worrying about Jack, all the while feeling the fear he felt to have Jones aboard his ship. On top of fear, there was also resentment and a touch of anger that she knew he dare not let show. Earlier in the evening, Rosalyn had felt a block form between her and Jack and she wasn’t sure what was causing it, but she knew that he would soon be there. Perhaps he already was and Terran or even worse, Balthazar, had gotten a hold of him and put up a barrier so Rosalyn wouldn’t be able to feel what was going on.
Out of a dead sleep, she finally felt Jack’s presence and it was closer than she could have ever hoped for. She hopped out of bed, not caring that she was in no more than an over sized shirt, and ran down the hall. For now, all of her mocking and ‘I told you so’s could wait, she was simply concerned with making sure Jack was here and in one piece.
She spotted Jack at the end of a hallway, eyes to the ground as he muttered and paced back and forth. Without warning, she jumped on him, wrapping her legs around his waist, and began kissing his neck, up his jaw, and finally to his lips. ”I’m very … very …angry with you … you know.” She said between kisses, the first kisses she had felt from his lips in hundreds of years.
Jack had spent the past forty minutes roaming the hallways of the castle, searching for an alcoholic beverage of any sort. After the meeting he'd had for the past hour or so, it was all he could think about.
After aimlessly venturing, he'd had enough. The place felt like a maze, turning corners, climbing staircases that had seemingly brought him back down to the very floor he'd started on. Perhaps he was going insane, if he weren't already to begin with. Weren't he? His mind was jumbled without an ounce of alcohol in his system. Dependency on anything could be a very dangerous thing. Especially when it came to Captain Jack Sparrow.
Muttering back and forth with himself over where to turn next, Jack stopped and felt a slight tugging feeling within his body. It was an odd sensation, but somehow comfortably familiar. Jack glanced up in the direction it was pulling him in and let his eyes fall back to the floor before making a double take.
As he looked back up, he felt a sinking feeling in the pit of him and instantly he was caught in her gaze. Rosalyn was in his arms before he even formulate a thought. He was disoriented, out of place for a moment. But it wasn't until he brought himself back down to their surroundings that he felt her skin, her lips trailing up towards his with a passion that burned to the touch.
Jack fell into her lips, blinking slowly in and out of consciousness, letting her words twist and tighten around him. He couldn't help but to smile back sheepishly at her, desperately searching within him for some confidence to be half the man he'd presented himself as. If only there were rum.
Rosalyn pulled herself up and into his body, riding her hips against his cock with absolutely no shame. It sparked a fire in his heart, feeding him the one thing he found more intoxicating than alcohol; herself. Jack guided one of his hands gently up her back towards the nape of her neck where he ran his fingers against the skin, just grazing the surface. He pulled away from the kiss, still encouraging her movements against him. "And what might you do with a condemned man who come only to please and otherwise assure you of his loyalties?" Jack turned to lean her up against the wall of the hallway, pressing himself into her, "Surely you can't be mad at all of me though, my love."
He could only grin when she'd feel him getting harder against her. "I know you've still a place for me in that heart of yours. You've missed me, 'aven't you.. Inside and out.." Jack tilted his head back, waiting with a knowing smirk that she could never disagree. "Aah. Just as I thought.."
”..I don’t recall this..”
"Oh Jaaack, but I do~"
Well, If This Isn't a Surprise (Jack Sparrow/Davy Jones)
Jones, without looking, bent down and took one of the bottle of rum. He popped the cork out with his mouth, spit it away, then took several long swallows. Without looking in Jack’s direction, his eyes still on the horizon ahead, he mumbled a barely audible “Thank ye,” then went silent again.
To say Davy Jones hated Captain Jack Sparrow would not only be stating the obvious, but also be a huge understatement. Jones hated almost everyone, as a matter of fact. Probably due to the fact that all he had known, for so long in his life, was hatred and discord, distrust, and bitterness.
But, somewhere, deep inside the spattering of soul that still resided within Captain Davy Jones… he felt a love for Sparrow, a strange sort of kinship. Maybe it had been due to chasing him all over the seven seas for the gods knew how long, over a deal that was long since over.
Or maybe it was due to Bootstrap Bill being on his crew, and seeing him willing to die - permanently - for his own son. Or, perhaps, it was the time he had Sparrow on his ship for a few weeks.
Whatever it was, it made Jones hate Sparrow more. And yet… he felt so strangely protective of the boy who called himself ‘Captain’.
"I meant what I said about keeping sober this trip, Sparrow," he said, still not looking at Jack. "I’ll throw you overboard, tied to a rope, and drag ya the rest of the way."
It had almost gone unheard, but Jack wasn't one to miss a once in a lifetime opportunity. Whether he wanted to admit it or not, Jones didn't have to be the one to drag his vampire ass to NyteHayvn. In fact, he was certain Rosalyn could have done it all by her onesies with a little persuasion. So why did he take it amongst himself to do Jack's biddings?
Jack sat on the wooden deck across the way from where Jones was and studied him curiously. He was always so angry and full of rage, as if the world had chosen his fate unfairly. And who was Jack to judge? Maybe fate should have been kinder to the guy. Hell, fate had grazed his own presence far too many times, and always too close for comfort. So maybe he didn't deserve the cards he were dealt. Still no reason to mope around hating the world.
He took a sip of his 'nutrients' and sighed that it wasn't rum he was tasting instead. Jones had already drank a majority of one of the bottles, but he knew better than to cross the man again on their trip.
Jones must have known Jack was gazing at the rum without even turning his head towards him. After all, Jack was rather predictable when it came to alcohol and selfish needs. Jack caught himself rolling his eyes. "Aah, you would now, would you?" Jack pressed on, "Don't s'pose that's any way to treat your Captain." He stopped the antics quick and groaned. He rested his head against the wooden railing and let his hat tilt over his eyes, crossing his arms as he pouted to himself. "But honestly, Jonesey. If I wanted to drink, who else knows better to hide rum aboard the Black Pearl than good ol' Jack, ay?"
Well, If This Isn't a Surprise (Jack Sparrow/Davy Jones)
Suddenly, Captain Jones’ claw was grasping Jack’s neck and squeezing. The tentacle attached to his other hand had knocked the bottle of rum from Jack’s hand so hard, it flew over the side of the boat and into the ocean.
"If it weren’t for the fact that I’d suffer the wrath of Calypso, and those of Castle NyteHavyn, I would cut off your head now and let the waters be your grave." Slowly, he released the grip on Jack’s neck, but didn’t remove his claw. "As for the other… thing… Do not talk about matters ye’ve not been invited to approach. Savvy?” he asked, the last word said in a mocking tone.
"As for your… condition," he said, sneering, "it’ll be taken care of." He reached into his coat, pulled out a rather large wine bottle and handed it to Jack. Then he stepped back, started moving toward the helm, and grabbed the wheel with hsi claw, turning then in the direction of London. It would be a few days before the reached it.
"That bottle ye be holding, Jack, that’s your sustenance until we get to London. That red essence your kind holds so dear. It’ll keep ya until we get to the Castle and you get some proper food." He glared at Jack, his eyes full of hatred. And, possibly, regret?
The next words out of his mouth were strange and cryptic, even for Captain Davy Jones. He spoke them with an almost quiet reverence, as if they were almost a prayer. ”Keep steady, Captain Sparrow,” he said, “and the sea will guide ya to your port, even if it’s not teh one ya expect.”
Jack's eyes flew wide open, gasping for air. The clutch of his claw was so tight around his neck, if he had applied any more pressure he would have snapped through the bones and flesh completely. Jack could see the uncertainty glowing wild like fire in his eyes. He was fighting the urge to do what he'd been waiting ages to do. Jones finally had reason to end him all together, but as always, Jack cheated fate one last time.
His grip loosened enough for Jack to take in a deep breath. Jones kept his claw close enough to the skin, where blood was now trickling down on one side. The wound stung but he was grateful that had been the only damage done. At least so far.
Jack took the bottle graciously, smelling the scent of human blood for the first time in a while. He had almost forgotten the last time he'd fed properly. He looked to Jones as though asking for permission and took a small sip, savoring the taste before swallowing.
He took another sip, a bit longer this time. It was a similar feeling to being dehydrated, and the more he drank the more he realized how much he needed it. Before Jack could mutter a thank you, Jones voice was distant with a message. There was an air about it that reminded him of a woman Jack had greedily shared with Jones a very long time ago. She went by many names: Tia Dalma, Calypso but to Jones, it was the woman who his heart belonged to.
Staring cautiously, Jack began to tip toe backwards, not quite leaving his line of sight. Once he was a far enough distance away, Jack snuck down to the rum cellar and retrieved two bottles. He climbed back on deck and stopped where Jones was, placing both bottles of rum by his feet.
If Jack knew even a fraction of what it was like to give ones heart to someone, he could only assume Jones would be in need of his rum more than he would. "Help yourself," Jack spoke quietly, "And don't mind the feline.. she's harmless..."
Well, If This Isn't a Surprise (Jack Sparrow/Davy Jones)
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Jones narrowed the gap between them, and spoke quietly in his ear. “If you dinnae come willingly, Captain Jack Sparrow, I shall be the one ta physically take you there… even if I have to… damage you to do so.” The threat behind Jones’ quiet words could not be misconstrued. They were a promise.
He stepped back again, made a sniffing noise, then inhaled on his pipe once more. As he smoke, he let it out in a thin stream. ”Tolaas Bluue has asked me ta come for ye,” he said. ”I owe him a favor.” He smirked. ”I know, strange isn’t it? unheard of. Captain Davy Jones owing someone other than himself.” He finally tapped out the cherry red tobacco embers from his pipe against his claw, emptying the pipe. He placed it back into his coat.
"And, because the request was made by the ShadowHunter, by proxy this request is backed by Rosalyn which - whom I am very sure you know intimately,” as he said that word, he smiled almost disgustingly, “and by Terran Nytefyer.”
He sniffed again, leaned back against the mast pole. ”And I suggest ye be sober by the time we get there.” He grinned, then chuckled.
Jack had pushed the slimy git as far as he was willing to handle for one day. The man's wretched breath filled his nasal passages with even more disgust than the smoke of tobacco. Jack did his best to listen while keeping his disgust limited to his facial expressions. Contorting at both the smell and his threatening words, Jack gulped at the idea of "damage?" He muttered under his breath, hoping not to be heard.
Rosalyn had told him centuries ago the reasoning why he needed to go to NyteHayvn. There had been many things about being a living vampire that Jack had never learned and many tales he'd told that contradicted the truth of his 'immortality', which put him at great risk. But why Tolaas wanted him now more than ever and leaving him no choice in the matter was concerning to say the least. Deep down Jack knew NyteHayvn was where he needed to be if immortality meant anything to him. But why right now? Why not three hundred years ago?
Jack furrowed his brows at his cruel joke, uneasy with the thought of being sober on a trip to a place he'd been avoiding for centuries with the likes of Davy Jones himself. "Absolutely out of the question." He shook his head before taking another swig. Rum seemed to be the only thing that could numb him from everything around him, even the hunger wasn't as bad if he was drunk enough. "Surely you understand," Jack bared his fangs, "Besides, I'd hate to be having me blood cravings along the way, and you are far from appealing to that appetite," Jack shuttered with disgust. "Me thinks you be lacking the proper nutrition most humans could offer." Jack pointed at his chest, "I mean without a, well...you know.." he shrugged away from it, knowing it was a tender subject.
Well, If This Isn't a Surprise (Jack Sparrow/Davy Jones)
Jones, still grinning, stepped forward. With one slimy thumb, he reached forward, and lifted one side of Sparrow’s upper lip, then the other side. “I will admit, the fangs look good on ye,” he said.
He stepped back, against the mast pole once more, puffed a few times on his pipe, blew the smoke in Jack’s direction. “However, it’s rather obvious that ye don’t know a thing about being a living vampire, Sparrow.”
He laughed, let it die down, then continued to chuckle softly. “Captain Jack Sparrow,” Davy Jones began, “I have been… asked… to tell ye that ye need to make your way to NyteHavyn. And if ye don’t… I’m to take ye there.” His grin widened.
Jack's tongue flicked around trying desperately to get the taste of salt and disgust out of his mouth. He was certain Jones had only said that to further ridicule and imply that Jack had been a worthless vampire, which where Jack had been concerned agreed highly with. Jack hadn't known much when it came to being a vampire. All he was certain of was that there were many strange changes that had taken place, and not one of them were accompanied with a proper explanation. Reasoning being was his refusal to take the journey to NyteHayvn, but that was besides the point..
"So you've deducted the inevitable, have you," Jack spoke with sarcasm, not amused whatsoever with that slimy man's visit. "And will you stop that?" Jack growled, furrowing his brow. The smoke was irritating his sense of smell like no other and he noticed it was slowly creating a haze in his mind.
Jones laughed and Jack stared in disgust at the man. He'd never truly had balls when it came to confronting Jones, though the sleep deprived, intoxicated Jack hadn't really given a fuck, even when it would have been so wise to do so.
Jack walked up to Jones and stopped not inches from the diabolical man. "And what says you have any hold o'er me, exactly? For all this talk of NyteHayvn… all the confrontation that's come to my attention as of late… I've yet to know the which-way-abouts to finding this Haven of sorts. And where I be concerned, be which a place I've washed my hands once and for all, savvy?" Jack took a moment to comprehend his obliteration of nonsense and took a well needed swig of rum.
"Dare I ask, to whom calls upon your assistance in apprehending and otherwise kidnapping me to foresee these plans met? And what be said consequences for my failed departure to the neverworlds?" Jack raised his head in curiosity, knowing very well he'd have but no choice but to go to NyteHayvn. It didn't hurt to try and wager even with the most vile of beings. Hadn't been the first time. Most certainly wouldn't be his last. But it would have to come to a halt if he wished to continued forth as the Immortal Captain Jack Sparrow. That much was certain.