#brant wuthering waves

[rayanaworks]

Quick doodle~

[aconfusedkitten]

he's a pirate. he's exiled from fictional italy. he's a theater kid. his best friend has anxiety and lives in a suitcase. he's wanted by the catholic church for being too silly. he calls you "my dear boy." he was banished for being a fool and decided to start a circus called the troupe of fools. his main mode of transportation is a turtle. he dual wields pistols and a sword. he has beef with a giant whale. he lives on the ocean and has fire powers.

he's even italian.

[varesai]

hiii!! could i request a brant x captain reader :00 u can decide on what the plot would be!! i js want to see what captain x captain dynamic (hypothetically LMAOOO) theyd have HAHAHAH THANK U SMMMM also idk if u do nsfw but if u do then u could also do that!! again up to uuuu 🙏🙏 coukd be nsfw, sfw, romantic, plat ir anything as long as youre comfy w it!! thank uuu !! <3

༉‧₊˚. AYE AYE, CAPTAIN!

𝖸𝗈𝗎, 𝖺 𝖼𝖺𝗉𝗍𝖺𝗂𝗇 𝗈𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗈𝗐𝗇 𝖿𝗅𝖾𝖾𝗍, 𝗆𝖾𝖾𝗍 𝖡𝗋𝖺𝗇𝗍, 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝖺𝗉𝗍𝖺𝗂𝗇 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗅𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖳𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗉𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝖥𝗈𝗈𝗅𝗌. 𝖧𝗈𝗐 𝖽𝗈𝖾𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗉𝗅𝖺𝗒 𝗈𝗎𝗍, 𝖿𝗂𝗋𝗌𝗍 𝗆𝖾𝖾𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗅𝗈𝗇𝗀 𝗋𝗎𝗇?

✧ 𝖧𝖾𝗒𝗒𝗒𝗒 𝗌𝗈𝗋𝗋𝗒 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗂𝗌 𝗌𝗈 𝗅𝖺𝗍𝖾 𝗅𝗈𝗅 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝖿𝗎𝗇 𝗍𝗈 𝗐𝗋𝗂𝗍𝖾!! 𝖨 𝗄𝗂𝗇𝖽𝖺 𝗀𝗈𝗍 𝖼𝖺𝗋𝗋𝗂𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝗐𝖺𝗒 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖽𝗂𝖽𝗇’𝗍 𝗐𝗋𝗂𝗍𝖾 𝖺𝗇𝗒 𝗌𝗆𝗎𝗍 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗂𝗍 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝖨 𝗀𝗎𝖾𝗌𝗌 𝗂𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝗌𝖾𝗇𝖽 𝗂𝗇 𝖺 𝗇𝖾𝗐 𝗋𝖾𝗊𝗎𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝗅𝗈𝗅. 𝖠𝗇𝗒𝗐𝖺𝗒𝗌 𝖾𝗇𝗃𝗈𝗒 𝖻𝖼 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗍𝗈𝗈𝗄 𝖽𝖺𝗒𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝖽 𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗉𝗈 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗅𝗈𝗅

𝖭𝗈 𝗐𝖺𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌! 𝖯𝗎𝗋𝖾 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝖿𝖿 :)

TO BE HONEST, WHEN BRANT FIRST SAW YOUR SHIP, DOCKED IN THE CITY OF RAGUNNA, HE WAS INTRIGUED. His first instinct was to figure out who owned such a fleet- one that was large, had many crew members, and had been able to catch his and his crew members eye.

And so figure out who owned such a large, pretty ship was his main mission of the day. He tried to find someone who was wearing the ships colors first. He figured that maybe, considering he himself had made this a thing, they’d try to match their ship. But he was wrong, because nobody turned up after many minutes of silent searches and dramatics when nothing came up.

Poor Roccia. She was the one who had to deal with his ramblings after he searched everywhere and still couldn’t find this person.

But, that was until he did find who he was looking for.

The aura you pulled was just too much to not notice. He knew it was you from a mile radius, based on the way your crew responded to your every word and, especially, just how rugged you looked. Your every step was calculated, and Brant definitely didn’t go unseen in your line of vision.

He thought you were absolutely fascinating. You thought he was oddly interesting. You spoke with him for a while, giving introductions before he offered to treat you to dinner at Trattoria Margherita. Thankfully for him and his crews sake (they would never. Ever hear the end of it) you accepted, and you got to know each other a little better.

Brant fell for you very quickly, as you did for him. You thought that he was a total weirdo at first, not worth of any of your time and that he was just odd all in itself. But as time passed, you looked at him as a friend, as someone you could trust. So, you showed him your fleet, as he did aswell.

The first to notice that he was in love was Roccia. She knew right off the bat. The way Brant tried to keep you where you were for just a little longer, not to say goodbye so soon, and sometimes something that should be as simple as a “see you soon!” Turned into a whole 15 minute ordeal that made the whole troupe impatient. But, they all knew as well. Roccia was just the first to ask him about it.

“Oh, Roccia, my wonderful first mate, whatever shall I do? What if they don’t reciprocate my feelings? Goodness, this is a tragedy!” Brant had said as soon as he figured out he had feelings, dramatically flopping down on the couch with the back of his hand on his forehead.

Roccia could only sigh. She sure would have to have a chatter with you in the next couple days…

༉‧₊˚.

So chatter with you she did. She kinda just bluntly told you that Brant has a little (not so little…) crush on you and that she was sick and tired of hearing him complain. You told her you liked him too and that he was a great guy. So off back to Brant she went. Project matchmaker was half complete!

Once things are solidified between the two of you, things get a little bit complicated. You both are at sea all the time, how would you ever see each other? Well, thankfully his crew gets along pretty well with yours, so you just kinda use each others ships every so often and go on the others route.

Some of your crew joined the troupe of fools, and Brant even tried talking you into it. Or, at least, to be in one of his shows. You agreed to the show thing, but giving up your status as a captain isn’t really what you want to do, and he understands your concerns better than anybody.

With more people on the troupe of fools and with you on his ship, life couldn’t be better. It was mostly his ship you all were on, considering the color and the fact that there was a hideout that you could camp out at for a while if you didn’t want to be at the sea. You eventually chose to give up your ship, moving everyone to Brant’s fleet and him making more space in the Fools Elysium for you and your crew!

And, the more the merrier is Brant’s whole motto. He’s delighted to take your crew and yourself in! Roccia made some new friends, and they all get along really well. You’ve made a friend out of Tina, and he’s been speaking with some of the men from your crew. Or well, now, both of your crew.

At the end of the day, he’s happy, you’re happy, and you have a great support system behind the both of you. Gosh, he just bought a ring that he’s got in his pocket everyday, but he’s waiting to slip it onto your finger at the perfect time.

[xichilie]

i was the one who requested hurt/comfort Brant fic. THANK YOU FOR GRANTING MY REQUEST&FEEDING MY DELULU(≧ᗜ≦) (sorry for bad english huhu T^T)

And I'm here for requesting again! Wdyt abt Brant take care over his spouse who's got very very very drunk, but his spouse who's usually calm&quiet now becomes all flirty and touchy here&there (giving him ton of kisses on his face)? And Brant's response? He's become a COMPLETELY BLUSHING MESS! Head empty bcs how clingy and affectionate she became!

But if you have another scenario let's go with yours! I just wanna see him nervous with red face honestly (sorry /j). That's all! Thank you again pookie! May your Brant&his weapon come early♡!

TOMORROW, OUR BOY WILL FINALLY HAVE HIS BANNER

I wish you and all Brant wanters, Aventurines luck. All brant wanters will be brant havers 😌🤍

_____

Drunk on Love

The fires in Fool’s Elysium burned bright, casting flickering gold across the cavern walls as the Troupe of Fools celebrated another successful performance. The air was thick with laughter, the scent of roasted meat and spiced wine swirling between the revelers, and Brant was, as usual, at the center of it all.

“And then, as the guards closed in, I told them, ‘Ah, but gentlemen, surely you wouldn’t lay hands on a humble man of the arts!’” Brant spun dramatically, arms flaring out. “And just as they hesitated—boom! Gone in a puff of smoke!”

The crowd around him erupted in laughter and cheers, toasting his theatrics. Brant grinned, preening under the attention—until something, or rather someone, latched onto him from behind.

Warm arms wrapped around his waist, a face pressed into his back, and a voice—soft but undeniably intoxicated���murmured, “Brant.”

He barely had time to react before Y/N, usually so calm and composed, turned him around and clung to him.

Brant blinked. “Oh.”

Y/N was flushed, her expression dreamily affectionate, her grip firm as she buried her face against his chest.

“…Oh,” Brant repeated, a slow grin spreading across his face. “Well, well, what do we have here?”

He tilted her chin up, gazing down at her with playful curiosity. “Darling, you look like you’ve had quite the generous helping of wine. Enjoying yourself, are we?”

She pouted. “Mmhmm. But you—” She poked his chest. “You talk too much.”

Brant gasped theatrically. “Me? Talk too much? Impossible.”

Y/N squinted at him like she was trying to solve a great mystery, then sighed dramatically. “You’re so pretty,” she murmured, almost to herself. “Not fair.”

Brant chuckled. “I can’t say I disagree—”

Before he could finish, she cupped his face and kissed his cheek.

Brant’s brain stuttered.

The surrounding Fools whistled and hooted, but Brant barely heard them. He was too busy trying to process the fact that Y/N—reserved, steady, unshakable Y/N—was pressing soft, lingering kisses along his jaw, moving dangerously close to his mouth.

He stiffened, heat rushing to his face. “Y-Y/N—”

Another kiss, this time right at the corner of his lips.

Brant squeaked.

His usual charm crumbled. He, Brant—smooth talker, silver-tongued rogue, shameless flirt—was suddenly incapable of forming a coherent sentence.

“Alright, alright, I think someone needs a little fresh air,” he managed, voice pitched slightly higher than usual.

Without waiting for her response, he swept her into his arms, ignoring the smug looks and snickers from the others as he carried her toward his quarters.

Y/N only hummed contentedly, resting her head against his shoulder. “You smell nice.”

Brant stumbled.

The journey through the winding tunnels of Fool’s Elysium had never felt so long. By the time he reached his private space—an alcove filled with scattered notes, fabrics, and an absurd number of pillows—his heart was pounding.

He set her down gently, exhaling. “Alright, darling, let’s get you settled—”

But Y/N didn’t let go.

Instead, she tugged him down with surprising strength, pulling him onto the cushions beside her.

Brant let out a very ungraceful sound as he landed, his back hitting the soft bedding, and before he could react, Y/N straddled his lap.

Brant stopped breathing.

She leaned in, her fingers tracing his collarbone before sliding lower, over the fabric of his shirt. “You’re so handsome,” she murmured.

Brant’s brain was gone. Utterly, completely gone.

“Y-Y/N—darling, you—you’re very drunk right now,” he stammered. “I think you should rest—”

She ignored him, her fingers working at the buttons of his shirt. His breath hitched as she pushed the fabric aside, exposing the faint, intricate glow of his Tacet mark against his skin.

Y/N’s eyes widened in wonder. Gently, reverently, she traced the mark with her fingertips.

Brant whimpered.

No one ever touched his Tacet mark. It was sacred, sensitive, and yet here she was, mapping every line and swirl with delicate fingers. His entire body tensed, his skin burning under her touch.

“Y/N,” he choked out. “If you—keep doing that—I might actually die.”

She giggled. Giggled.

“You’re cute when you’re flustered,” she mused.

Brant let out a strangled sound, somewhere between a groan and a laugh, dragging a hand over his face. “Oh, you are never going to let me live this down, are you?”

She beamed at him, and gods, she was beautiful.

Then she kissed his forehead.

His breath caught.

Then his nose.

His heartbeat thundered.

Then both his cheeks, her lips soft and warm, her hands cradling his face like he was something precious.

Brant shattered.

“Alright, that’s enough, you dangerous woman,” he rasped, his voice uneven. With a dramatic flourish (that was only slightly desperate), he flipped them over, pinning her beneath him.

Y/N gasped, blinking up at him with wide, hazy eyes. “Brant?”

He smirked, though his face was still bright red. “My turn.”

He leaned down—slowly, deliberately—and pressed a single, lingering kiss to her forehead.

Her breath hitched.

Then, with exaggerated care, he kissed her nose.

Her fingers curled into his shirt.

Then, finally, finally, he brushed his lips against her cheek, just barely, before pulling back with a triumphant grin.

“How’s that for theatrics, darling?” he teased.

Y/N’s face was scarlet.

Brant chuckled, pleased with himself—until she pulled him down again, burying her face against his chest with a sleepy sigh.

“Warm…” she mumbled. “Stay.”

Brant softened.

He sighed dramatically but wrapped his arms around her, resting his chin atop her head. “You are going to be the death of me,” he murmured, but there was no heat behind the words.

Y/N hummed in contentment. Within moments, her breathing slowed, her body relaxed against his, and she drifted into sleep.

Brant lay there for a long time, listening to the steady rhythm of her heartbeat.

“…I am so in love with you,” he muttered to himself, utterly doomed.

And for once, the ever-charming Brant had no idea what to do about it.

Brant had been in many thrilling, perilous situations in his life—performing daring acts on stage, conning pompous nobles, escaping armed guards, even staring down the Dragon of Dirge. But nothing, nothing, had ever left him as utterly helpless as this.

Y/N was clinging to him in her sleep.

Not just loosely holding onto him—oh no—she had wrapped herself around him, arms tucked beneath his coat, face pressed against his chest, and legs tangled with his own. She was warm, impossibly warm, her breath tickling his skin as she sighed contentedly in her slumber.

Brant was losing his mind.

His face was burning, his heart hammering against his ribs like a drumbeat in a grand performance. He had tried—tried—to gently pry her off when he had first realized the situation, but the second he moved, she had whined softly and only held on tighter.

He was doomed.

With an exaggerated sigh, he flopped back onto the cot, staring at the ceiling of his little cavern home. "This is my life now," he murmured to himself, though the complaint held no real weight.

He glanced down at her, a fond smile tugging at his lips despite his still-racing heart. Her expression was so peaceful, so utterly at ease. It made something deep in his chest ache.

Carefully—so carefully—he let his hand move, brushing along her back in slow, comforting strokes. She sighed again, nuzzling closer. Brant bit his lip, trying to suppress the giddy, ridiculous smile threatening to spread across his face.

"Oh, you’re dangerous," he whispered, shaking his head in amused defeat. "Too dangerous."

But as much as he should be trying to escape, he… didn’t want to.

For all his theatrics, for all his flair and bravado, Brant was a man who had gone years without a true place to belong. He had always been the fool, the outcast, the man who danced on the fringes of society. Yet here she was, clinging to him like he was something precious, like he was safe.

He swallowed hard, his fingers absentmindedly tracing small circles against her back.

Maybe, just this once, he’d allow himself to believe it.

With a deep breath, he closed his eyes and allowed himself to relax.

If this was the price of taking care of her, of having her trust him enough to cling to him even in sleep…

Then he would gladly let himself be tangled in her warmth for as long as she would have him.

[scarletwritesshit]

🪙Brant x F!Rover🪙Bet on Fools

When this is all over, I'm going to marry the captain!

Brant had a feeling that he wasn’t exactly meant to overhear those words. While leisurely strolling by, he froze in his tracks upon accidentally eavesdropping upon Rover and a few of his crewmates. He glanced to his side inconspicuously, observing Rover joyfully chatting perhaps under the minor influence of a mug of ale.

It was just a one-off fleeting comment.

But that very comment had stuck in his mind ever since.

Brant wouldn’t admit this to anyone, not even to Rover herself, but overhearing those very words come from her had been his motivation to weather of storm of Rinascita’s seemingly never-ending familial conflicts. No amount of trespassing Fractsidus or empty pockets could come even close to stopping him dead. When Brant ever felt as if he was beginning to lose his footing, the ever-looming thought of marrying Rover sent him right back to balanced on his own two feet.

His unusual merriment was noted by all, even Roccia, who had long since grown accustomed to his eccentric ways. Thus, when she inquired him about his noticeable shift in behavior, Brant merely froze up and made some sort of excuse to not give an honest answer.

It was just Brant being Brant, he hoped they would conclude, but hiding things was futile, when the way he smiled around Rover was unmistakable. Rather easy to come to the conclusion that whatever it was, it had something to do with her. Nobody had to ask, so nobody bothered to ask.

As time went on, the end to all only seemed to be further and further away. Nevertheless, the growing distance to the finish line was not enough to stop Brant from chasing it like an animal. Eventually, Rover’s seemingly came to a conclusion in Rinascita, and suppressing his hope and excitement became a near impossible task. He wanted to nudge her, somehow, but he couldn’t quite figure out a way to do so without alluding to him previously catching on.

On an clear night when the waves were at their calmest, Rover sat upon a cliff looking out over the sea. Happening to catch sight of her as he was passing by, Brant imagined this to be a most opportune moment. Though, he had gone in completely unarmed, and the entirety of his plans would be ad-libbed, he wasn’t about to pass up his chance should it arise within the conversation. Better yet, there was the possibility that Rover had a plan of her own, thus being a contributing factor in her decision to pass the time so distant from the crew. However, Brant mustn’t overexcite himself. At the very least, it would be time to spend with her alone, a treasure in itself.

Before he spoke a single word to her, Brant noted that Rover’s expression was rather somber. One would expect a more celebratory feeling, but perhaps exhaustion was weighing heavily on her. As she sat down on the ground silent, he stood tall besides her, overlooking the moon as it hovered over the sea, its reflection glistening magnificently in the gentle waves.

"Is this not a time for celebration?" Brant asked.

"For you, it might be," Rover said, sparing him a brief glance, "my problems still persist elsewhere in this world."

Brant tilted his head. "Why, whatever do you mean? The waters are calmer than they’ve ever been."

"Here, they may be, but I still have yet to find my answers. Unrest still persists elsewhere."

"...Elsewhere?"

Rover stood up and crossed her arms. "I’m leaving for the New Federation soon. As much as I would like to stay here, I’ll never find out who I really am, and these Tacet Discords will probably never stop coming."

Brant's heart dropped immediately upon hearing the word "leaving." It was as if nothing else she said after that registered in his mind.

"L-leaving?"

Rover nodded her head.

"As in, leaving me? And going away? Forever?"

"Hang on, I didn’t say-"

Rover perhaps should have chosen her words more slowly and carefully. No lies were stated, but Brant had a tendency to get just a little ahead of himself. She quickly turned up to look at him, and was greeted with the very rare yet all the more upsetting sight of the joy being completely drained from Brant’s face.

"W-wait! Tell me what I did wrong! Please!" Brant said, throwing himself down into her

If only she could get a word in. In between his desperate pleas, Brant was unknowingly squeezing her half to death, ignorant of his own physical strength. Rover would be shocked if Abby had yet to wake up after all of that commotion, but it probably learned to keep quiet after putting up with those two for so long.

"Brant..." Rover said, trying to at least wiggle an arm free.

It was hopeless. He was relentless. And he probably couldn’t hear her.

"Brant..." she once again said, louder.

He finally looked up at her. He looked like an absolutely pathetic sobbing mess, half slumped onto her and half on the ground. It was a sorry sight, even for someone like him. She couldn’t help but silently blame herself, in a way.

"Hold it," she said, sighing and pushing him back, "you’re jumping to conclusions way too quickly. I just said I was leaving for the New Federation, not leaving you. In fact, I didn’t even say anything remotely close to that."

"But you’re still leaving. And…and I cannot be sure if I’ll ever see you again," he said as he was attempting to stand up and straighten out his shirt.

"What makes you think that?" Rover asked, a bit confused at that point. "I’ll come back to see you. Promise. It’s just that I have a bit of divine nonsense that still needs straightened out.”

Which wasn’t an exaggeration, either. All of that "Sentinel" and "Lady Arbiter" talk only raised more questions than answers. Rover knew nothing, but she knew more than enough to blindly believe the claims of this so-called previous incarnation of hers...

Regardless, horse gods and Spectro dragons could wait. She had a more pressing matter to tend to at the moment.

"...You will? Promise?"

"You don’t look very convinced."

Brant shied away, as if he wanted to answer her with confidence but was still in shock from such a misunderstanding. Rover wasn’t exactly sure how she would be able to make amends. This matter was something that only time would be able to assure, but unfortunately, she didn’t have all of the time in the world. Plus, she couldn’t depart from Rinascita leaving Brant with such a feeling of dread.

An idea had occurred to her. But was too soon? At this point, hardly. She had known Brant for practically the entire time she was in Rinascita, and she had no intention of ever letting him go.

“Well,” she said as she started to shift through one of her pockets, “I did initially plan to save this for when things calmed down, but I have a feeling that won’t happen any time soon.”

As Brant anxiously watched her as she shifted through her pockets, a glimmer of worry fell upon Rover that, perhaps, she was rushing things after all, and instead her efforts seemed more desperate than genuine. Then again, would Solaris-3’s most genuine fool even be with her if he didn’t hold faith in her sincerity? If that were the case, then he would be nothing more than that; a fool. Any and all hesitation that was left lingering within her became a concern of the past once she had hooked her fingers around what she was seeking. She pulled it out, and presented her closed fist to Brant.

“…Do you believe me now?” she asked, opening her palm.

Brant looked down at the silver ring she held in the palm of her hand. Then he looked back at her. And back at the ring. And back and forth again. Something told Rover that he didn’t believe him, though this time, for entirely different reasons.

Now she felt as if she was the fool.

“My lady, you couldn’t possibly be asking me what I think you are?” Brant said, utterly bewildered. “There’s no way that Solaris-3’s most precious treasure could be wanting to spend her life with someone who amounts to nothing more than a mere stage performer.”

She nudged her palm up towards him a little closer. “There is a way. I won’t be able to stay in Rinascita much longer for now, but we will be tied together by something greater than the distance that will come between us.”

Brant reached out his hand as if to accept, but something still silently held him back. Rover grabbed his hand and placed it into her palm, or at least to the best of her ability, as his fingers alone were almost bigger than her hand.

“There are some things I dare not joke about,” she continued. “This is one of them”

Taking off his hat to use to hide the flustered expression on his face, Brant turned away and nodded his head. A complete and utter mess he was; a look that Rover never got tired of. He did manage to give her an answer, but it was not quite how she wanted it.

“Can’t hear you,” Rover said, smugly.

“My lady, I-I didn’t quite catch your question,” Brant said, making an obvious attempt to stall.

As much enjoyment as she got out of lovingly toying with him, perhaps this time, it would be best if she spared Brant’s heart health.

“I know you know exactly what I am asking you, but I’ll say it for your sake. Will you let me stand by your side not as your captain for a day, but as your wife, till death do us part?”

Brant closed his eyes and took a deep breath, as if it was possible to screw up saying the word “yes.” Though it was him in question, after all, and it was more than possible. Still hiding the lower half of his face, he at least mustered up enough courage to look at her.

“Yes, my dear, with pleasure,” he said.

Rover could feel the nervousness in his hand, and so she was kind enough to aid in sliding the ring onto his finger for him. He glanced down at his hand momentarily in awe, then suddenly threw his arms around Rover and put his hat on her head, pulling it over her eyes so that she could not see the embarrassment that was present on his face. He was proving rather impossible to hold, given his large size, and Rover was using all of her might to keep him from tipping them over the side of the cliff.

He seemed to be crying. But at least, it was a happy cry.

“…How do you think the rest of the crew is going to take to this?” Rover asked, just then thinking of the new conundrum that had arisen. “Actually, how do you think Roccia is going to feel about this?”

“Ladies and gentlemen! We have returned, and I bring you the most stellar of news in regards to the honorary captain and I!”

Others had hardly bothered to bat an eye, except the few who were morbidly curious. Roccia, though rather used to such tomfoolery, turned to look, as a greeting from Brant of that scale never bought good news.

“Now, what are you up to this time?” she asked, with a deadpan expression.

Taking a brief glance at that theatre kid with his arms raised in the air, she saw a glimmer of silver light on his finger.

“No way, you actually did it,” she said in awe, having quickly come to the correct conclusion.

“Well, technically she did it,” Brant said, nudging Rover, “but, yes! Yes I did, indeed!”

“Is that so?” Roccia said, narrowing her eyes. “If that’s true, then at least half the crew owes me some money...”

“…What?”

[eraenia-era]

Brant

[euphemmia]

Can I request something similar to the Little Mermaid where Brant is the mermaid in question and the reader is the human 😭🫶🏻

Thank you so much for giving us the opportunity to request btw!!

Brant x reader

Warnings: mentions of alcohol, reader is in danger

Summary: You stole from pirates to survive, but unfortunately you get caught. This event leads you to the mermaid that will save you twice. What else is the mysterious mermaid hiding?

A/N: I will be honest, i had no idea what to write about for this request, the only thing that I knew is to make Brant a mermaid 😭 I’m sorry, I didn’t make the story how you wanted, but I hope this one is atleast a bit interesting to read.

It was a cold, angry evening. The wind howled through the empty sky—no birds, no sun, just darkness creeping over the restless ocean. On any other night, you might have admired the eerie beauty of it. But not now. Not while you were being dragged across the rough ground, struggling against the iron grip of three men.

You kicked and thrashed, desperate to break free. You had messed with the wrong people, and now you were fighting for your life, teetering on the edge of a cliff, staring down at the crashing waves below.

"Let me go!" Your voice cracked with panic. Regret twisted in your gut. Stealing had been your only way to survive—just a little food, just enough to keep going. But now? Now it had led you here.

A sharp yank forced you to your feet, the men keeping a firm grip on your arms as they shoved you forward. The ocean roared beneath you, hungry and unforgiving.

"You should’ve known better than to steal from pirates," one of them sneered. "Look where it got you."

Another shove. Your heels scraped the edge.

"I gave it back!" you pleaded, turning to face them with wide, desperate eyes. "It was a mistake—I was desperate! Please..."

Your words barely had time to sink in before a boot slammed into your chest.

The world tilted.

Then, cold.

The ocean swallowed you whole.

The impact knocked the air from your lungs, the icy water shocking your body. You fought against the pull of the waves, kicking, clawing your way to the surface.

Breaking through, you gasped for air, your eyes stinging from salt and panic. The sea churned around you, dragging you up and down with the towering swells. You tried to spot land, a rock—anything—but there was nothing. Just sheer cliffs too slick to climb and endless, merciless water.

Hopelessness crept in.

Your limbs ached. The cold seeped deep into your bones. Tears blurred your vision, mixing with the saltwater. You couldn't fight anymore.

A single tear slipped down your cheek as the waves pulled you under.

And then—darkness.

You felt heat on your face. Your throat was dry, and your entire body ached. Faint sounds reached your ears—birds? That couldn’t be right. You were sure you were dead.

You tried to open your eyes, but the harsh sunlight made it nearly impossible. Something was bothering you—an odd sensation—but it was hard to focus. A second later, awareness flooded your body. That’s when you realized someone was poking you.

Annoyed, you slowly pushed yourself up into a sitting position. Your head throbbed, your heart pounded, and your eyes stayed clenched shut against the brightness.

“Wakey wakey! The world says hello. Time to start an adventurous day and do something useful!”

Your eyes snapped open, despite the sun’s glare. You turned your head—and froze.

There was a man next to you. Shirtless. You couldn’t help but glance downward, only to be hit with a sight that made your blood run cold.

“WHAT THE FUCK?!” you yelled, scrambling back, though your sore body protested every movement.

“Now, now, no need to scream, my dear friend,” he said calmly, smiling like none of this was weird. “What’s gotten you so surprised?”

“The tail…” you muttered, your eyes locked onto it. “It’s either a dream or I’m actually dead.”

It shimmered in the sunlight, every scale reflecting a glint of color. It was beautiful—too beautiful. But also completely impossible. Mermaids weren’t real.

“You wound me,” he said with a dramatic sigh, placing a hand over his heart. “And here I thought I might at least get a little ‘thank you.’ You would’ve drowned if it weren’t for my kind and heroic gesture.”

His hands moved wildly as he spoke—he was clearly theatrical by nature.

“You saved me?” you asked, relief flooding your chest. “So I’m not dead?”

“Nope. Alive and breathing.” He grinned. “You were out cold all night. I got bored of waiting, so I started poking you. You really are a deep sleeper.”

He launched into a rambling explanation, but you could barely concentrate. Your eyes were still glued to the tail. It was mesmerizing.

How many people even know mermaids exist? you wondered.

“Are you even listening?” he interrupted, snapping you out of your thoughts.

“What?”

“I was asking your name. Mine’s Brant.” He extended a hand toward you.

“Y/N,” you said quietly, shaking it.

He held your hand a moment too long, as if wanting to ask something but hesitating. Eventually, your hands parted.

After a brief pause, he picked the conversation back up. “So… how exactly did you end up in a situation like this? Not that I’m complaining, of course—I did get to rescue a damsel in distress!”

Despite yourself, you laughed. The tension between you began to ease. You ended up talking for hours. You told him everything, even the parts that embarrassed you. There was something comforting about him—something easy.

Brant shared bits about himself too, though he kept things vague. Still, it was enough to keep you curious.

Eventually, the sky turned dark. Silence settled in for a moment before you finally asked, “Where are we, anyway?”

“We’re still on the same land,” he replied, stretching. “Just the other side of it. Are you planning to go back?”

You looked out at the darkening ocean. “I can’t stay here forever. And yeah… it’s getting late.” You paused. “Thanks again for saving me.”

“No problem at all, my lady,” he said with a smile, but something flickered in his eyes—hope, maybe? “Though I do hope we meet again, under better circumstances.”

You giggled and shook your head. “Of course. Thank you once again.” You smiled at him. “Until we meet again.”

You gave him a small wave and turned to leave, the memory of his voice and that shimmering tail lingering in your mind.

You returned to your small, cheap apartment and collapsed onto the bed, exhaustion finally taking hold. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t shake the memory of your new, unexpected friend. It was still hard to process the fact that mermaids—mermaids—were real. If you weren’t so drained, you doubted you’d have been able to sleep at all.

The next day arrived, but it was already afternoon by the time you stirred. You remained motionless in bed, the heat growing unbearable as sunlight poured in through the window. Slowly, your eyes fluttered open.

You stared at the wall, yesterday’s events replaying in your mind. Was it a dream? you wondered. You sat up, your muscles stiff and sore. Maybe it was real after all…

You dragged yourself to the bathroom and stood under a long, much-needed shower. The hot water helped a little, but your stomach soon reminded you of another problem—you needed food.

You rummaged through the kitchen, only managing to find scraps. You needed a job. Fast. After everything that had happened, the last thing you could afford was getting caught again. Next time, you might not be so lucky.

You waited until the sun dipped lower in the sky and the heat became more bearable before stepping outside. You wandered around town, aimlessly at first, then more deliberately, scanning for any opportunity.

As you passed a noisy tavern, something caught your eye—posters stuck to the wall near the entrance. Curious, you stepped closer.

“Looking for a bartender,” you read aloud. Perfect, you thought and pushed open the tavern door.

As you stepped inside, every pair of eyes turned to you. You kept your head high and walked toward the bar, suddenly hyper-aware of every step. One man sat with a wide grin on his face, though his eyes were hidden beneath a colorful hat. Several empty beer glasses littered the table in front of him, his legs lazily crossed and propped up. He could’ve been mistaken for asleep—if not for that smile.

You reached the bar and tried to speak to the bartender, but a slurred voice cut you off.

“Well, well, well… I knew I’d seen you somewhere before,” the voice said mockingly. “Little thief.”

Your head snapped in the direction of the sound, and your heart dropped.

In the corner, half-hidden by shadows, sat the pirates—the same ones who tried to kill you.

Your breath caught. This wasn’t just terrifying—it was humiliating. You weren’t sure what would be worse: being killed again, or being killed here, in front of everyone, like some pathetic spectacle.

One of them stood and began staggering toward you.

“I thought we had you for real,” he said with a laugh. “How did you manage to survive? Let me guess—a prince with a tail saved the day?” He turned to his companions, pointing at you. “Ain’t that funny, fellas?!”

They roared with laughter as the drunken one stepped closer, barely able to keep his balance.

“Well, ‘damsel in distress,’ I hate to break it to you, but thieves usually don’t get off easy. Lucky for you, I’m in a generous mood. How would you like to choose your punishment?”

You stood frozen, glaring into his bloodshot eyes, your teeth clenched. No one would help you. No one defended thieves.

Suddenly, before you could move, a blade slid up to your neck.

“Cat got your tongue?”

Tears welled in your eyes. This was beyond humiliating—everyone staring, laughing, while you stood there, helpless.

“I made a mistake,” you said quietly, your voice trembling. “But I gave everything back. You already had your revenge. I was lucky to survive. And now you’re humiliating me all over again—in public.”

For a second, he was silent, surprised. Then he burst out laughing.

“Are you begging for mercy?!” His friends howled again.

You narrowed your eyes. “Honestly, it’s probably more embarrassing to beg for your forgiveness than to die in front of everyone.”

That struck a nerve.

His smile vanished. “What did you just say?” He leaned in close, hand reaching for your hair—but someone grabbed his wrist before he could touch you.

“Now, now,” a calm voice said. “No need for violence, dear sir. I’m sure you’ve already done enough to make her feel ashamed. Why don’t—”

He didn’t get to finish. A sword came flying at him—but he blocked it just in time.

He let out a low whistle. “Not bad. Pretty strong… but a bit slow.”

The pirate’s face twisted in fury. “Do you have a death wish?”

And then the man turned to you.

No way. No freaking way.

It was Brant.

Standing. On legs.

You didn’t even have time to process it before metal clashed in front of your face. Brant had blocked the next attack.

The pirate stepped back, reaching for a second sword.

Brant used the pause to lean close to you. “Sorry, my lady. But you’ll want to take a few steps back.”

He gently moved you aside by the waist as the pirate lunged again.

“Come on then, pirate. Let’s give these fine people a proper show!”

He was enjoying this.

The fight began in earnest. But Brant didn’t just fight—he danced. Dodging with flair, parrying with dramatic spins. He wasn’t just trying to win—he was trying to humiliate.

The older pirate was quickly out of breath, panting hard.

“What? Is that all you’ve got?”

“I’LL KILL YOU!” the pirate roared, charging.

But he was too slow now. Brant slipped behind him and knocked him out with the back of his sword. The tavern went dead silent.

Brant turned to the other two pirates.

“Anyone else want a turn?”

They stared at their unconscious captain for a long moment, then slowly stood, grabbed him, and dragged him out without a word.

You remained frozen, stunned. Not only was Brant a mermaid—he could turn human. And apparently, he was also a ridiculously skilled fighter.

Brant strolled over to you, grinning.

“Did you enjoy the show, my dear lady?” he said with a dramatic bow.

You stared at him for a second, then grabbed his arm and pulled him out of the tavern, ignoring the stunned crowd.

“What was that?!” you hissed once outside. “Why didn’t you tell me you could turn into a human?!”

“Don’t be mad, my dear,” he said, pouting theatrically. “I would have told you—eventually. But aren’t you glad I showed up? I saved you again! What an honor!” He shut his eyes and struck a pose. “Don’t I deserve a kiss for this dramatic entrance?”

You groaned. “What are you even doing here?!”

“Can’t a man go out, grab a drink or two, and just happen to rescue a beautiful woman?” He smirked. “Sounds like a perfect evening to me.”

You looked at him, exasperated. “Is there anything else I don’t know about you that could shock me?”

He only smirked wider. “That, my princess, is a surprise… reserved for another dramatic rescue.”

Then he took your hand and kissed it with a flourish.

[cleumuu]

Colored doodle art of my brant yume (citrustar 🍊🌟) + doodle of something to do with brants idle healing but getting healed by affectionately resting his head on astrid

[iloveyanderes]

Tomorrow and he will be mine.

[metaforikal]

Hi!! Would you be willing to write a scene with Brant with a shy, cat hybrid reader where brant pulls them to his lap and gently teases them?

I loved all your writings so far <33

𐙚 brant 𐙚

𐙚 brant loves his kitty kitty,, 𐙚

fluff, fluff, fluff, cat demi-human reader, gn reader.

thanks for the req nonnie <3 ! is it just me or are we lacking in brant fics? maybe i am not looking for it well enough but still, huhu! sorry it took soooo long, i was kinda busy (╥﹏╥)

fool's elysium was lively, filled with a cacophony of laughter and song. the troupe had just finished yet another successful performance at the town square of ragunna. the hustle and bustle of life offered a sweet distraction to the fools from their initial vexation of being casted away by the order, by the higher society. a place where fools, heretics, were not just toleratedーbut also celebrated.

brant exhaled, a contented smile played on his lips. his usual theatrical mask slipped away as he settled down beside his favourite person, [name]. they had been together since their first exile, small fingers intertwined tightly braving through the unforgiving tides and storms abroad the pilgrim sail. 

"you've been staring at me for awhile." your cat ears twitched. you had never been fond of lingering eyes on you, much rather staying by the side lines than being under the spotlight. unlike brant, who'd willingly jump into the middle of a spectacle to feel the whole world's gaze weight down upon him. 

"hmm, nothing much. just appreciating ya" he drawled, a look of adoration was in his eyes. no words could describe how much he loved and cherished the one that had stood by his side through thick and thin. you pouted, your fluffy cat tail swayed left and right lazily against the wooden plank of the dock. you're still not used to his flirtation, even after years together.

another sigh spilled from his lipsーsoft and dreamy. he had always loved seeing you all flustered due to his makings. "now, you're being way to cute for your own good y'know?" he nudged your side, making you huff out as a form of protest. he was no longer able to restrain himself so gently, he pulled you into his lap with effortless ease. all those years of fending his troupe from tacet discords lingering around penitent's end had turned him into quite the strong one. 

you could feel how fast your cheeks heated up, dusted in pink-colored freckles. words died on your lips, thoughts tangled and frozen lost in the overwhelming warmth of his embrace. 

your back was pressed firmly against his chest, the soft clinking of his accessories filled the otherwise quiet and intimate air. his strong, calloused hand kneaded the soft flesh of your waist, his chin rested on your clavicle. each slow, deliberate blow of his breath caressed the juncture between your neck and shoulderーa sensitive part of yours that is only known to him, only for him to exploit. 

"b-brant don't do that-!" a shaky mewl rolled off your tongue, breath hitched when he nipped onto the soft skin. oh how he loved gouging out your reactions to his affections, savouring each twitch and gasp from you. 

"who's a good kitty kitty~?" his voice was a low, teasing purr. if it were anyone else calling you like so you'd have their eyes skewered on your nails. but brant? brant knew you'd let it slide if it came from him, and he'd be damned he if didn't take full advantage of it. you didn't answer, of course, your ego wouldn't let you but it's not like he mind either way. 

your ears didn't go untouched, how could they? he couldn't just simply ignore how your ears flapped by each bated breath you took. he watched as they flicked at even the slightest movement he'd make. how could a man like him possibly resist?  “you're so unbelievably cute like this.” he hummed to himself. one hand lifted, ghosting his fingers over the soft fur before cupping one ear fully. the warmth that his palm offered sent a shiver down your spine, making you jolt ever so slightly in your seat.

“always so sensitive, you never make it easy for me, [name].” he hummed in pure amusement, laced with the satisfaction of discovering yet another weak spot.

and so, they spent their evening in each other's embrace. he had the look of a lovesick foolーbecause that was all he was. one hopelessly enamoured. in a distance, the faint echoes of the fool's troupe's merrymaking drifted through the air. but none of it mattered to him at the moment, not when he had you like this. 

"y'know, if i weren't already a fool, i'd still be one for you, willingly."

jumps around.. i finally got one done after being gone for awhile. so sorry ahhh!!!!!!!! i will get the other to work, ASAP!! i hope i did brant justice, he deserves all the love this world's got to offer (੭ ;´ - `;)੭ ♡

[pheleszev]

Brant

[delzinrowe]

In the face of danger and adversity, the stage is set for our grandest act!

[gifimay]

brant headcannons pt2

brant who would call you princess and kiss your knuckles while on one knee

brant who would hold your chin with his hand before smirking and kissing you

brant who would drown you in butterfly kisses and laugh when you try to squirm away

brant who would convince a bunch of echos to pretend to kidnap you and take you to a surprise party he threw for you

brant who would wink at you all the time for no reason whatsoever

brant who would put a lot of effort into hygiene for you(pirates usually didn't have good hygiene due to not having the supplies for it) because he doesn't want to smell bad around you

brant who would either be the most confident flirty motherflipper ever or the awkwardest little guy around you. depends on the day(and how drunk he is)

brant who would do that cheesy thing where he says he can hold the whole world in his hands and cup your cheeks, claiming 'your his whole world'

brant who would absolutely dance with you, doing ball dances and twirls

brant who wouldn't mind if you didn't really want children, I actually think he'd prefer to adopt, he'd rather give a home to children already in this cruel world.

brant who would cling to you in his sleep and wouldn't let go no matter how much you try to get out of his hold

brant who would give you hickeys not because he's jealous but because he loves the artistry of them

and brant who would turn into a soft cuddly marshmallowy mess whenever he's jealous. pouting like a hurt puppy until you turn your attention back onto him

(and thats all I got for now. more brant hcs probably soon. god damn do him and female rover have a hold on my heart.

have a good day/night/morning/evening!)

[axxa-the-allikatt]

Dude I finally got the time to write this but the story kept going on and on and on and- so I sorta decided to do two parts of this. Istg I didn't expect it to become this long but here we are.

Ps, the last time I did an anon request they didn't find out l'd posted it until like a month later so if you do read this please text me something so I won't be paranoid abt it TwT.

ALSO, shout out to that one horny Brant fan in my requests box. I feel you homie e. Lmk if you like this.

Enjoy!

***

Brant X Top Male Rover:>

***

It had been almost two months since you started visiting the fools ship almost every other day, and it had been almost two months since you’ve looked Brant in the eye.

The first time you’d met him, you were too busy getting your brain circuits in check after that little accident with the big- fish?- and your eyes were too busy wandering over the ship to let them linger too long on those comfy looking man boobs of his.

But now that all that commotion was put on a pause? You did not miss a single chance to let your eyes wander down from his pretty lips to his neck (oh lord how you wanted to mark him up) to the gap between his perfectly cut shirt that let you catch a glimpse of all that skin and muscle underneath.

It’s not like you were ashamed of it. You had noticed him staring at your arms every time you did the heavy work around the hide out, the way his eyes trailed your adams apple when you took a sip from the water bag he always carries around and the way his breath caught when you placed a hand on his hip as you stood behind him, leaning into him as you butted into whatever conversation he was having with someone.

Oh no, you weren’t ashamed at all. And if anyone accused you of doing these actions exaggeratedly in the presence of the other man, you would admit it in the blink of an eye.

But despite being aware of the obvious chemistry between the two of you, you both avoided a conversation about it like it was the plague. The crew, who had found it amusing and entertaining at first, now felt that finding a cure for a deadly disease would be easier than getting you two to have a conversation about this little whatever thing was going on between you.

Since verbal communication wasn’t an option and they couldn’t possibly force the two of you to kiss, they did the next best thing they could think of. They locked you up in the ships cabin and refused to let you go until you both figured your shit out. At first, you tried breaking the cabin down but realised with disdain that breaking the cabin meant letting the sea water in. Which brought you to your current situation.

“Uhhh” you muttered intelligently, eyes flitting around the room until they landed yet again on the other man’s chest. You couldn’t help it. They looked too comfy and you had way more than once thought about what it would feel like sleeping on them. As your thoughts continued to go south into a prohibited lane, you heard a low chuckle, then his voice. “My eyes are up here, Rover”.

You swallowed as your eyes flitted up to meet his. Your tongue darted out to wet your lips again and you could see his eyes follow the motion before copying it without a thought. You wanted to smack yourself as your eyes again started trailing down the path they had followed so many times, to his lips, down his neck, then back to where they usually were.

You were startled out of the little scenario that you were creating in your head when something slid from under the door, sliding to a stop at Brant’s feet. He picked it up, and your eyes yet again followed their target, his clothes slipping a little and giving you just enough view of what was hidden to let your blood start flowing south.

Brant stood up again, as he ripped open the tape of a brown paper bag, then peeked in to see the contents before throwing it with an unexpected force, startling you out of another scenario you were going through. “What the- hey what was that?” You asked, turning around little to walk over to the bag. “Uh nothing! Don’t- don’t worry about it.” He exclaimed, motioning you to let it go. Now you were curious. What had gotten your pretty boy all pink and cute like that?

You continued to make your way over to the corner of the room where the bag had fallen until he hurriedly slid across your path. “It’s nothing. Just a joke between the crew” he reassured you, trying to walk you back. “Oh, so you don’t consider me as your crew yet?” You faux pouted, abruptly turning around, causing him to knock into you, face dangerously close to yours.

You could hear his breath hitching, then trying to relax as he tried to explain himself. “That’s not- I’m not-“ he sighed. “You know that’s not what I meant” he replied, eyes looking at anything but yours. “Then what did you mean?” You asked. He sighed again as he closed his eyes and you took this chance to dash past him, reaching the corner and grabbing the bag, before Brant nearly crashed over to you.

You leaped out of his reach and looked into the bag, ready to tease him about whatever was in it, until your breath caught in your throat and you froze. Inside the bag, was a bottle of what seemed suspiciously like lube and a few packs of, what were definitely, condoms.

The two of you stood there for an awkward moment until you decided to be a petty bitch. “Oh? So what was the joke between the crew, captain?”

He sucked in a sharp breath, eyes slightly widening, as he gave you a half annoyed, half desperate look. “It’s- it’s nothing. Forget it.” He murmured, turning his back to you as he made his way back to where you two had initially been standing. You could see his hands shivering slightly.

You followed him, taking deep breaths to calm yourself, and landed yourself on a wooden crate as he stiffly sat on another one a considerable distance away from yours. Silence ensued.Seconds passed into minutes. Your mind was racing a mile a minute. But you were sure of one thing. If you let this incident slide as a joke, it would forever stay a joke.

“Captain?” you called out. “Mn” he replied, refusing to meet your eyes. His hands were now shaking. You eased off your crate, slowly making your way over to him. As you neared him, you reached out your hand, cupping his face. You felt him hold his breath, eyes still on the floor, waiting on your every word. “Talk to me” you said softly. “…What is there to talk about?” He replied, voice almost a whisper, as he oh so slightly leaned into your touch.

You sighed. Letting go of his face, you slid your hand to the back of his neck, making him tilt his head to look at you in the eyes. His eyes were slightly wide, a look on his face that you could only describe as desperation. It made your heart crack with adoration. You wanted to kiss this man stupid. But you, not knowing where you would be in the future, and him, hating where he was in the past made the red string connecting the two of you twist and knot in a cruel way.

But who were you, the great Rover, if not one to laugh in the face of pain. Oh how dramatic.

“Tell me what you want, Captain.” You whispered leaning in against his lips, a mere inch between your faces. He let out a strangled noise, eyes blowing impossibly wide as you felt him melt in your hands. After what felt like eternity but in reality was only a few seconds, he slowly leaned towards you, brushing his lips against yours in a barely there kiss.

As much as your body and soul wanted to devour him, your mind reminded you to let him take it at his pace. Slowly, a brush became a gentle press, and a press became a wanting lick, until he finally put his arms around your neck pulling you closer to him. Not finding your balance, you place a knee against the crate, standing between his legs. He let out a beautiful whine against your lips and you realised what your knee was pressing against.

You teasingly pressed harder, feeling his rising erection with glee. He gasped into your kiss and you took this opportunity to gently slide your tongue inside his mouth. Your mind was reeling with a million emotions. Love, adoration, possessiveness, wanting, craving, lust. So much. You let your hands wander down to his hips, fighting against the urge to lay them against the smooth muscles of his chest. Hands gripping his hips, you picked him up with one fluid motion, as he instinctively wrapped his thighs around your waist.

Seconds passed into minutes, your lips separating only for a second or two catch your breath before diving back in. Finally, a few minutes later, he pulled back completely, breathing in deeply, as he unhooked his legs, arms remaining around your neck. You gave him a soft smile, hoping it would ease his nerves.

What you didn’t expect was the way his lower lip started trembling, eyes wetting with the tears that were about to fall. You had a moment of panic, as you held him tighter against you. “Hey. Hey, what’s wrong?” You asked worriedly, leaning your forehead against his. He sniffled, staring at you. “We shouldn’t do this” he mumbled, a few moments later. Your breath caught in your throat. “Why?” You questioned gently, one hand reaching up to wipe a stray tear off his cheek. He took another moment.

“Because you’re- I- You’re a person who’s destined to save the world, and I, I’m a stupid fool who couldn’t even fight for his own homeland. I’ve tried for so long to save my home, but I could only do it this time because you were here. I’m- I’m not the only one in this world who needs saving Rover, and in the days to come-“ he took a deep breath, “you’ll have to leave. And I- I know you have to. So please. I don’t want to make this harder for both of us.”

A painful silence followed this confession, words of reassurance dying in your throat. He was still in your arms, shallow breathing the only noise in the room. “I’m sorry” he whispered, voice cracking uncharacteristically, snapping out of your stupor. You took a deep breath. “And if I-“ you licked your lips, choosing your words carefully, ”and if promised you I’d come back to you even if I had to go away… could we make this possible, Captain?”

He stared at you, the drying tears springing up in his eyes again. Something was off. You felt it. “Captain… Brant, speak to me.” He shook his head, laying against your shoulder, as he let out a quite sob. “You…” he whispered. You soothingly rubbed his back, praying to any god who would listen, to take this man’s pain away. “I’m selfish. I want you all to myself but…”

“You deserve someone better, Rover. I’m only a fool.”

“…”

“What?” You whispered in disbelief. Getting no reply, you gently took his face in your hands, looking at him in confusion. “Is that what you’re worried about?” He refused to reply to you, instead opting to look down at the floor. “Brant” you said sharply, making him flinch and finally meet your eyes. You softened your voice, speaking as slowly as possible, making sure he heard every word you said. “I like you. So fucking much. I want you. And god forbid you ever think you’re not worth every second of my existence. Do you understand?” You felt his jaw tighten under your hands, still no reply.

You sucked in a deep breath. Fine then. “Brant.” You said, looking him in the eye. “Answer me.” Another moment of silence. You let a hand slide down to his neck, down his side and come to a rest at his hips, as your other hand tilted his face, your own face dangerously close to his. You felt him shudder under your touch. “Would you listen to me if show you how much you mean to me?”.

A moment passed. Then two. Then, a slow, shivering voice. “Show me, Rover.” A deep breath. “Please.”

You crashed your lips on his, the hand on his hips pulling him tight against you, as he let out a almost silent cry, before wrapping his arms around your neck like his life depended on it. You carefully picked him up. He wrapped his legs around you again, moaning against the kiss as you squeezed his ass playfully. Walking over to a conveniently placed table, which you were sure wasn’t here earlier, you placed him down, standing between his legs.

Breaking the kiss, four hands hurriedly began undoing the clothes separating you two. Finally, finally, after two months of dreaming of them, your hands made their way to his chest, leisurely kneading the muscles. The sinful moan he let out sent all your blood rushing down as you rolled your hips, your own erection rubbing against his. Clothes. You still had to get these clothes out of the way before you went crazy. He seemed to be having the same thoughts as you both began undoing what remained of your clothes, lips separating once in a while to take a breath before crashing back in.

Within minutes, he was naked. You broke away from the kiss, breath hitching in your throat as you admired the view before you. Your eyes trailed from his beautiful face, down his neck (you finally had a chance to mark it now), over his perfect, toned chest, his nipples now obviously hard, down to his chiseled abs and those thick thighs (damn, he had thick thighs too. You wondered how it would feel to be choked by them. You had plenty of time to find out) and your eyes landed on the painful looking erection, his tip already flushed red.

You unconsciously licked you lips, and heard him suck in a breath at this. You saw the movement of his Adam’s apple as he swallowed hard and you dived in to press loving bites against his neck. You made sure to leave marks.

Taking his hands in yours, you held them behind him, making him ever so slightly arch his back. You continued nibbling at his skin as you made your way down his neck to his collar bone, then to his chest until your lips finally reached a nipple. Flicking your tongue against it, making the man under you let out a whine, as he arched his back further, pushing his chest in your face. It was exactly as you’d dreamt it would be. Soft and comfy.

Another whine escaped his lips, as he mumbled a little ‘please’. You grinned to yourself. “Hm? Tell me what you want baby” you cooed softly, looking up at him. He blushed a furious red as he stuttered over his words. You let out an amused chuckle. “Shh. It’s alright, don’t worry. Just let me take care of you, sweet thing.” You murmured, gaining another whine.

You gently pressed a palm against his belly, pushing him so that his back was against the table, now holding his hands above his head. You were again struck with how absolutely stunning he looked, even more so now with that pretty look on his face. You wanted to worship this man, and make all his self-deprecating thoughts go away, so that the only thought left in his head was that he belonged to you and that you most certainly belonged to him.

Leaning in for a kiss, you pressed your lips against his for a moment before leaning back to look at him. “Good?” You asked, giving him a soft smile as you kneaded his thigh with your free hand. He let out a whimper, then a whispered ‘so good’. Your hand pushed his legs apart, as you slowly rubbed against him, letting out a breathy moan at the friction. It was taking all your strength to control yourself. Your hand rode further up his thigh until it finally reached leaking cock.

You leaned in to take it in your mouth, relishing the keen it dragged out of the other male, and the way his thighs tightened around your face, just how you’d imagined them. You had already let go of his wrists but his hands obediently stayed above his head, earning him a rewarding moan against his cock, as you slid it into your mouth.

You loved the weight of it on your tongue, and the taste of pre-cum slipping down your throat. You began bobbing your head in a slow pace, taking your time adjusting to the feeling, until he began slightly jerking his hips towards you. Looking up at him through your eyelashes, all you could see was his beautifully arched chest, his head thrown back against the table. His whines and moans were getting louder, music to your ears as you increased your pace.

As the head of his cock hit the back of your throat, you let out a choked moan, tears springing to your eyes. The feeling was heavenly, as you took him completely in your mouth, hands gripping his thighs tighter against your head. Honestly, you never knew you had a such a kink until this moment, but whatever this feeling was, you wanted to drown in it.

It was barely a few minutes later, when the man beneath you finally brought his arms down, hands gripping at your hair, as broken ‘’m close’ and ‘please’ fell from his lips over and over again. With a scream, he came, his come spilling down your throat as you forced yourself to swallow all that he was giving you. It was a few seconds before his cock went limp in your mouth, and you slowly pulled back, using your thumb to wipe the cum dripping down your chin and licking it clean, making a show for his hazy eyes.

You leaned in, nuzzling your face into his neck as you gently rubbed his thighs. “You wanna keep going?” You murmured against his skin. He put his arms back around you, letting out a groan before slightly shaking his head. “Not here. This thing is going to give me bruises with splinters.” He grumbled. You chuckled then let a hum of agreement, moving away from him to pick up your clothes. Cleaning him up with your coat, you dressed him with care, before dressing yourself.

You walked over to the door, with him walking right behind you, and were ready to try breaking it down again, but to your surprise and annoyance, the door was already unlocked. Hand in hand, you walked out to the deck only to find the entire crew assembled there with something of a bizarre party in full swing.

***

There. That's that.

Part 2 will be up in a week. Probably.

I'll get there, I promise guys TwT.

[xichilie]

hi! could you please make one where brant finds out his partner is pregnant 😋 idk why but it seems like it would be interesting lmao

anyways have a good day/night :3

Brant x (fem)reader

Reader tells brant she's pregnant

The room was quiet, save for the distant hum of the city beyond the window. Y/N sat on the edge of the bed, fingers curled into the fabric of her sleeves, heart pounding harder than she wished to admit. The weight of the revelation settled in her chest, both thrilling and terrifying.

She wasn’t sure how to tell him.

Brant, ever the dramatist, would surely make a spectacle of it, whether out of joy or sheer disbelief. The thought made her smile, though it did little to calm her nerves.

As if summoned by her thoughts, the door swung open with its usual flair, and Brant strolled in, already mid-sentence. “Darling, I was just informed of the most—” He paused, taking one look at her and immediately narrowing his pink eyes. “Y/N, you look as if you’re about to deliver grave news. Tell me, has the world finally decided to punish me for being too charming?”

Y/N huffed a laugh despite herself. “Something like that.”

Brant tilted his head, his usual smirk faltering. That alone told her he was actually paying attention. He stepped closer, kneeling in front of her with uncharacteristic patience. “Talk to me, Stella Mia.”

Y/N inhaled deeply, gripping his hands in hers before finally whispering, “I’m pregnant.”

For the first time since she had met him, Brant was speechless.

His pink eyes widened, lips parting as if to speak, but no words came out. He blinked once, twice, then finally exhaled a shaky breath. “You’re… with child?”

She nodded, watching him carefully.

Then, in true Brant fashion, he gasped dramatically and threw himself onto the floor. “By the gods! I’ve done it! I’ve created life!”

Y/N groaned. “Brant—”

“Wait!” He sat up suddenly, eyes darting to her stomach as if seeing it for the first time. He reached out but hesitated, almost hesitant for once in his life. “May I?”

She rolled her eyes but took his hand, placing it gently against her stomach. ���You won’t feel anything yet, you know.”

“I don’t care,” he whispered, his theatrics vanishing in an instant. His palm was warm against her, fingers trembling just slightly. When he looked up at her, there was something reverent in his expression. “This is real?”

Y/N’s heart softened. “Yes.”

Brant swallowed thickly before breaking into a radiant grin. “Stella Mia, you have just given me the greatest role I will ever play.” He cupped her face, pressing a lingering kiss to her forehead. “And I swear to you, I will be magnificent at it.”

Y/N smiled, resting her forehead against his. “You already are.”

Brant remained on his knees before her, his hands warm against her cheeks as if grounding himself in the moment. For once, he wasn’t filling the air with his usual playful dramatics—he was just Brant, raw and real, his pink eyes shimmering with something indescribable.

Then, as if something clicked in his mind, his hands shot down to her stomach again. “Wait. Does this mean—” He gasped. “I must start writing my memoirs immediately! ‘Brant: The Journey of a Rogue, a Lover, and Now—A Father!’”

Y/N let out a laugh, swatting at him. “Brant, we have months before you start telling the world about this.”

“Months?” He scoffed. “Stella Mia, I should have been shouting it from the rooftops the moment you told me!” He suddenly turned toward the window, as if actually contemplating it, before Y/N grabbed the back of his collar and pulled him back.

“No. Absolutely not.”

He pouted, placing a hand dramatically over his heart. “You’re cruel to me, my love.”

“You’ll survive.”

Brant sighed, dramatically flopping onto the bed beside her, head resting against her lap. His expression softened again as he gazed up at her. “You’re certain you’re alright?” His fingers traced absentminded patterns along her thigh. “I mean… do you need anything? Are you in pain? Should I fetch a physician? A whole team of them, perhaps?”

Y/N smiled, brushing her fingers through his hair. “I’m fine, Brant. A little tired, maybe.”

His brows furrowed. “Tired? Then rest. Immediately. In fact—” He sat up abruptly, already moving to grab extra pillows. “You should be lying down. You need comfort, softness, the finest blankets we can find—”

“Brant.” She caught his sleeve before he could disappear on a mission for luxury. “Just stay here.”

He froze, eyes searching hers before his expression melted into something tender. “Always, Stella Mia.”

He settled beside her, an arm looping around her waist as she leaned into him. It was rare to see him so quiet, so still, but he held her like she was something precious, something sacred.

After a moment, he pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “Y/N?”

“Mm?”

“What if… what if they have your eyes?” His voice was almost wistful, as if imagining the idea for the first time.

Y/N smiled. “And what if they have yours?”

He chuckled, squeezing her a little tighter. “Then the world will never stand a chance.”

She laughed softly, closing her eyes as exhaustion started to pull at her. Brant simply held her, his usual chaos set aside for the moment as he let himself marvel at this new chapter of their lives.

And for once, the infamous rogue had no need for theatrics. Because this—this was already the greatest story he would ever be a part of.

Brant had never been good at keeping secrets—especially not ones that filled him with this much joy. It was a miracle he had lasted this long without bursting. But now, the time had come.

The Troupe of Fools was gathered in the Fools’ Elysium, their lively chatter filling the grand hall as they passed around drinks and shared exaggerated tales of their latest antics. The air smelled of wine, roasted meats, and the faintest trace of incense—everything warm and familiar.

Brant stood atop one of the long banquet tables, goblet in hand, his pink eyes practically glowing with excitement. “My friends! My beloved, ridiculous, chaotic family! Lend me your ears!”

The room quieted—well, as much as it ever could in a den of exiled performers and troublemakers. The Fools turned their attention to him, some with curiosity, others with amusement.

“What now, Brant?” One of them called. “Another duel against a noble you’ve insulted?”

“Are we fleeing the city? Blink twice if we should start packing.”

Brant gasped, pressing a hand to his chest. “You wound me! Can I not call upon you all without accusations of scandal?”

A chorus of doubtful murmurs and laughter rang out, but Brant only grinned, raising his arms dramatically.

“Tonight is not a night of mischief! It is a night of celebration! For I, the incomparable, magnificent Brant, have achieved my greatest performance yet—may, my greatest creation!” He gestured grandly toward Y/N, who stood at the edge of the gathering, watching him with an amused yet knowing smile.

“I—” He paused for effect, savoring the anticipation in the air. “—am going to be a father!”

For a beat, the room was silent.

Then—

Cheers erupted, wild and thunderous. The Troupe of Fools was nothing if not expressive, and this news sent them into a frenzy of whooping and applause. Someone threw their hat into the air. A few musicians immediately broke into a celebratory tune.

Y/N found herself suddenly swept up as various members of the Troupe rushed to congratulate her. Arms wrapped around her in joyous hugs, voices overlapping with excited chatter.

“When were you going to tell us, Y/N?”

“You’re carrying Brant’s child? Saints help you.”

“This calls for a feast! No, a festival! A whole week of celebration!”

Brant basked in the revelry like a king in his court, drinking in the joy around him. Then, as if the sheer energy wasn’t enough, he pulled a lute from one of the musicians and strummed a few dramatic chords.

“A song! A song for the miracle that is my beloved and our future little fool!”

Groans and laughter followed as he launched into a completely improvised ballad about love, destiny, and the trials of raising a child with his unparalleled charm.

Y/N shook her head, laughter spilling from her lips as she watched him. He was over-the-top, ridiculous, and hopelessly dramatic.

And she wouldn’t have him any other way.

[sorinbds]

It's already going to be 12 at night and the only thing I can think about is Brant 😭😭😭and how I would sleep with you

Normally he always goes to sleep with you unless there is some celebration or it is the birthday of someone on the crew.

He usually wakes up early as he has to go wake up the other crew members to start the day.

On days when he gets drunk he becomes clingier and wakes up later than normal.

when they sleep he always has you in a hug that you can't free yourself from, everything gets worse when the baby literally climbs on top of you