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kanene-yaaay-o-retorno · 4 years ago

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The Pink Pearl

Kanene’s Notes:

Soooo... I needed to improve my action scenes. And then this fanfic was born! :D)/

It has pirates and ghosts and pirate ghosts! :DD

Warnings, fun facts, random things and stuff:

* That fanfic was a bit inspired on that fabulous video right here.

* Contains: Angst, Cursing, Hypnosis, Implied death, Clear description of bein hypnotized, clear description of a ship burning to the ground, Hur/Comfort, Mild Comfort, Mystical beings, Magic, Happy ending, Hopeful Ending.

* This characters do not belongs to me. They all belongs to Thomas Sanders.

* Something around 3.500 words. -w-)b.

* You can also find this fic on AO3.

* Sorry for any spelling, pontuation and grammar mistakes! Any advice is very very welcome!

* Tô com preguiça de postar a versão em português brasileiro aaaa! Thankys for reading! Eat a snack, rest, watch that favorite movie you have been wanting to see again, take care and drink water! Byeioo!~

[~*~]

“I need help.” He tried to not grimace with how the words dried even further his hurt throat as they left his lips, shivering when a sudden breeze from night’s cold froze the sweat on his skin. Remy - at least that was what he said his name was, but trusting in a pirate word could lead you to not so pleasant storms - snorted, moving his cuffs and pressing their backs closer.

“Yeah, no shit.” His voice was raspy, tired, and not for the first time Emile wondered for how long he had been there, since his presence was already a constant when the amateur sailor’s boat had been plundered and he got captured, thrown on the darkest part of the ship and finding his company.

“That makes two of us.” The last part came out as a bitter whisper.

A peaceful wave hit the hull, making the ship stumble and rock under the moonlight that gazed pieces of their skin through a few cracks in the highest woods.

“No. I mean, yes, but…” Emile sighed deeply, tired awareness washing over him as the sailor realized the full extent of his next words. He rested his head on Remy’s shoulder, a move which led the other to untense his muscles and be more open to conversations.

They didn’t have much more time before the moon hit its highest spot in the sky and Emile wasn’t sure if they would make it to another full moon. Remy could only distract the crew so much. “I need your golden necklace.”

The other stiffed, breath hitching, stiff pose. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Yes, you do.” Calm voice, free of any accusation, his brown eyes stared at the ‘ceiling’ picturing stars and constellations and the unstable clouds and how it feels when the salty breeze hit his skin freely. “I know it’s probably an important possession for you given how long you’ve been hiding it, and I’m really sorry I am asking for it but we really need a good offering.”

“Are you going to beg Neptune to save us?” Sound of fabric being ripped, the metal’s clicking making itself known. “He has islands and ships of gold being given to him right now, goldenfish. This may be a preciosity, but isn’t that worth it.”

Goldenfish: Breakable; Pirates who didn’t experience the true nightmares of surviving in the ocean; Naive; Fragile;

“If I’m going to go in a shit way, at least let a captain die with the last of his treasures.” His voice choked in the middle of the sentence, but both pretended to not notice it.

Emile felt dread fill his stomach, tightly closing his eyes as tears pricked their corners. Their captors never held their tongue, always discussing all their possibilities to get rid of their prisoners during parties and meetings on the main deck, voices loud enough to be heard by them both. Besides, the sailor was sure the crew wouldn’t stop themselves from making morbid remarks whenever Remy was called to ‘amuse’ them, even though the other refused to say anything to him when he was back, playing it off with some sarcastic sentences and ironic expressions.

(Emile attempted to be interesting one time, trying to pry their attention from Remy at all costs. His light-hearted efforts and humored puns were rewarded with nasty bruises and more chores to deal with. There were no sarcastic phrases that day.)

Still… It was the first time they talked about it out loud. Ignoring their eventful end made things more forgettable, easier to look away. But, now Emile was sure he wasn’t the only one sensing the impatience clouding and suffocating the air around them as the days went by.

Emile wished they had more time. “We’re not going to die and I’m not going to pray to Neptune. Not today.” Remy scoffed, yet listening. “I have a pink pearl with me, it can…” His sentence trailed off, his tired mind trying to find an easy way to explain his family situation. “Some spirits own me a favor.”

Emile had seen Remy’s eyes when he was dragged, barely conscious, to his prison for the first time. They were black and deep like the bottom of the Ocean, full of untold beauties and unseen mysteries. He could almost feel their glare on him.

“Do your spirits happen to be friends with the sea nymphs? The Thunder Damsels? Because that is the only fucking way we’re getting out of this.”

“They can help.” Emile stayed firm, trying to buckle their conversation out the way it was heading.

“Because…?”

“Remy, we don’t have much more time, please, give me the necklace.”

“Oh, of course, I am sorry for trying to know who my last possession is going to. What a bitch, am I right? Wait! Thinking better about it, why don’t we go up there and ask for the crew to help us? They’re full of gold, too!” He hissed. Because he couldn’t even shout out his irritation. Because it has been days since he last slept due his haunting nightmares, but the possibility of this being a dream freezes his blood and tights his throat. Because Emile’s hope was beginning to make its way to his soul and he knew how dangerous that could be.

“Ghosts, ok?! They are ghosts!”

Remy stared the wall in disbelief, seconds passing by. Emile closed his eyes.

“My stars, are you trusting our lives to haunting ghosts?” He barked a laugh, despair and astonishment dripping from his words.

But Emile didn’t laugh, seeming to shrink behind him.

So, Remy stopped, convincing himself that it was because of the coughing fit that hit him, molesting his dry throat, and not the soft heart he so fiercely denied to have.

Someone dropped a cup on the upper floor, curses immediately following suit. The sound made them both jump a few inches in the air, unable to stop the squirming, the shivering. The other’s whisper cut the silence.

“If you can’t trust me now, I don’t know when you will.”

Remy sighs, pressing their backs closer and lightly elbowing his ribs.

“Drop the pout, starfish.” As he got up, his chained hands maneuvered to grab his necklace from the hidden pocket on his boot, dropping it on the cold floor and carefully pushing it in Emile’s direction. “If this doesn’t work, I’m getting you back later.”

“Thank you.” The sailor’s smile only increased as Remy scoffed. Although, he didn’t have too much time to rest in the warm feeling blooming on his chest, quickly getting the pearl from his own hidden place. He gathered the two objects on his hands before sitting in front of a small hole he opened on the lower part of their cell, a glimpse of the ocean shining behind it.

Deep breaths. Ok. He could do this.

The well known chant sea flew from his mouth. It sounded like sunny afternoons and picnics, and nights embraced on the dimming dark, and soft hugs, and loud laughter with the feeling of freedom and dances around a wooden, crowned table. It was melodious, it was memories and his last shout of hope. His energy, his gratitude, his fear, his last chance, his last treasure, everything was offered.

The objects fell from his palms and were engulfed by the deep, incessant waves.

For a moment nothing happened and Remy regretted all his life choices, a not new habit of his, however at least this time he had a different reason, especially as Emile continued the tunes of that old song, apparently unfazed by the clear failure of his attempt.

Then Remy realized.

Besides his voice there was…quiet.

A life dedicated to explore and navigate the seven seas could be a lot of things. I could be dangerous, it could be difficult, lonely, adventurous, memorable, exhausting and even boring. But never quiet. There was always something. Always the melody of the waves carrying your ship, the wind slapping the sails, the mermaids whispering in your ears, a curse daunting your dreams… Silence could be present, but not for long and never as absolute.

But now…?

Now everything was quiet.

And that made a run shiver run across his spine, muscles tenses, instincts shouting. “Emile?”

The sailor didn’t respond, didn’t even stir as the temperature turned unbearably colder.

“Emile,” His dark eyes widened as his breath became visible in the air. “Emile, stop singing!”

“I already did.” He whispered, his stranger soft voice muffled, with something missing.

The ex captain noticed the truth behind his words as he concentrated. His senses could notice the melody coming from nowhere specific, echoing on the walls in a steady, patient pace.

A soft high pitched giggle cut the song. And, no, Remy did not shriek. Shut up.

“They’re here.” Emile’s voice was filled with something he couldn’t quite place, nor did have time as, in the middle of the room, a silhouette started to form, trembling and bending the light around it.

[...]

Aaron didn’t believe a lot of things, which, in itself, doesn’t mean that the amount of things he did believe was in any way whimsy.

Actually, he considered himself a very rational, plain figure. He believed in what he saw, touched and experienced. That is why he was on the nocturn security duty. His mind wasn’t easily fooled and his instincts were something he had plenty of capacity to control.

He prided himself on the moments of dinner and drinking, the hours of dawn when the crew would be a tad too drunk, playing and saying that, if any day Aaron stumbled on the feathered singer - because even on the fog of the rum, they knew best than say the name of the creatures out loud and pull bad luck onto their travel - he would be controlled enough to laugh at them, spit some curses and them navigate away while appreciating their nice melody in the background.

That was the memory which clawed on him as the mist involved the masts, swirling in a calm manner to the wooden floor, a whispering beginning to take over his eardrums. It was a song that made his bones ache and muscles tremble. He closed his hands on fists, nails tearing the epidermis to stay firm.

Even when a not-quite red, not-quite translucid figure appeared four feet away from him. Sitting in front a mesmerizing pitfire, carefully rocking the silver liquid in the golden chalice held firmly by his fingers, his lips parted, the chant pouring from them.

And the fire? The fire danced under his control, at each musical note it contorted and expanded, inch by inch, flame by flame. It got higher, vivid, swirling wound the translucid form who extended his hand and let the element run freely across his palm, petting it as if it was a domesticate, harmless animal.

The calm melody hit its climax, the high, vibrant note was prolonged, taking over the air, stealing all the attention and all the oxygen from the viewer.

He got up and the flames continued to travel from his hands through his body, burning his clothes which dissolved in brilliant ashes and left behind a gleaming trail of a completely new vestment being formed.

Under Aaron’s – mesmerized – attentive gaze long crimson sleeves involved his arms, crawling across his shoulders and leading the way to his chest, a warm white fabric shining under the moonlight, the fervent grooves that cut it in the form of limpid waves flowed through the petticoat from the gorgeous dress from the figure that couldn’t be named as translucid, anymore.

The song stopped.

The flames, much higher, much larger, raised like curtains behind the mysterious being, and his scarlet screaming eyes focused on Aaron, stealing his oxygen, again, and demanding – commanding him to show - every slight drop of his attention. His lips parted, one more time.

The song was back.

And he began to dance.

The fire accompanied the synchronized movements of his arms, also performing its own dance on the ship, spreading across the floor on the rhythm of his footsteps, sliding from the vestment’s veils and taking over all the space, climbing the ratlines, burning the masts, consuming the emergency boars and dancing together with the red figure and his frenetic melody, which overflowed and inundated everything around, attacking and drowning Aaron, who didn’t allowed his glare to deviated from the moves before him for one single second, all the others things being forgotten.

Beautiful. Everything was beautiful.

“And wouldn’t it be even more if you could dance with him?” A velvety voice – that wasn’t his – whispered on his mind in golden shades.

“Yes…” Aaron answered, hoarse. When did his throat get so dried like this? Why didn’t he realize it sooner? Why wasn't the oxygen coming back?

“Then go.” The gold thought was fast in cutting his line of thinking, leading him to focus one more time on the figure in front of him. “He will love to guide you through the steps.”

And Aaron agreed quickly, wondering how the other’s hands would feel under his touch. If they would be cold for his previous translucent state or hot just as the fire that accompanied him. He questioned himself if the flames would follow his pace, dancing with him, as well. He wanted. He wanted to be so beautiful like this. Maybe if he controlled the fire, maybe if he showed himself so skilled like this the being before him, he would be the one mesmerized. He would be the one to bow and to ask him for a dance.

He got closer and closer from the fire, extending his hand, about to pet it.

Perhaps…

A splitting pain spread like an explosion through the length of his arm and Aaron moved away with a scream, tears falling from his eyes with the painfully beat of his burned hand capturing all his senses, the song and dance disappearing from his mind.

And suddenly the frightened screams filled his eardrums. Sounds of pleas for help, of kicks and punches and wood crackling smacking him in an only one hit that destabilize the pirate, leaving him coughing and gasping and loud, so LOUD-

His eyes widened. Hot. Hot. Everything was burning. He was burning.

He wanted to scream. His throat was dry, but he needed to scream, needed to warn everyone, needed to-

“Rest.” The calm, velvety voice came back to his mind, offering peace, a safe space to where he could flee.

(An illusion made especially for him.)

However, he couldn’t. Everything was hot and burning and it shouldn’t be like that. He knew it shouldn’t be like that. This wasn’t normal. Wasn’t good. Screams. He also needed to scream. Because he was hot and the ship was hot and he was-

“-With a fever. You’re burning from sickness. Just a small fever isn’t something worth waking and alerting the others, right? You’re so clever, so strong, you sure can manage to ignore such futile, delirious dream alone. Maybe the rest of the crew wouldn’t be able to, but you’re braver. No one can ever fool you.”

Yes. This was true. He was intelligent, reasonable. That is why they always choose him to be on the night duty, because no one could do a better job than him.

A very known song begins to ask for his attention, one more time.

He can do it. He knows how to take care of the danger, so-

“-so there is no reason to worry, because there isn’t any danger here. It’s just a dream. A beautiful dream.”

His eyes rise and meet again with the dancer. Beautiful. So beautiful.

“Yes. That is true. Then why don’t you just relax and enjoy your wonderful, special dream?” The yellowish, velvet aura involves his body and suddenly the hotness stops to bother him, just like the ship dismantling in flames and the screams of help of the pirates locked on their rooms, terrified by the illusions taking form and life in the middle of the darkness.

The red eyes, for a second, focused on something behind Aaron, smiling, before finally sticking on his, the smile still on his expression as his hand went in his direction and rested on his forehead, a melodious tune following his acts.

“Sleep and dance on your dreams.”

And then everything disappeared in soot and ebano.

[...]

“Oh my stars!! Martin! It’s been so long!” Émile controlled himself to not laugh at Remy’s astonished expression – even if the shorter tried to hide it in a nonchalant behavior, - which proved itself to be simpler when the sky-blue ghost dashed until they were face to face, squeezing his cheeks and alternating between smiling at him and frowning at the number of old and new bruises that covered his skin. “You’re so tall now!! You kiddos grow up so fast!! Do these hurt? No worries! Roman, Remus and Janus are taking care of everything so we will be able to properly take care of you and your friend in a bit, okay? It’s been so much time since they saw you! I bet they also can’t wait to hear all the news!”

Picani stared deep into that shiny gaze, couldn’t help himself but smile back at Patton, a faint, almost erased memory of the blue figure helping him and his grandpa to make cookies in one of the docks they used to visit, they all whistling happily the known melody shining on the back of his mind. The memory was blurred, mostly consisting in laughter, songs and a warm feeling.

“Pat,” he gulped, mindless playing with the chains that locked his wrists on the walls of the cell, a frown in his face. Patton lightly hit the side of his own head, dislodging a bit his glasses’ frame, letting go of his face and heading to the keys poorly hanging on a rusty nail on the other side of the room.

(A constant reminder from the others of the freedom they could achieve if they only would be able to research the keys…)

“That is right, that is right!” He carried a happy aura on his steps, floating to them in a fast pace, unlocking their cell, kindly glancing at him and Remy, who eyed him for a few seconds before having his attention claimed by smoke descending from the cracks on their ceiling. “We should probably be heading out here just now!”

“Pat,” Emile tried again, holding his hand when the ghost freed him, ignoring the goosebumps running across his arms in a protest about the coldness of the other’s skin. His tune was careful. “I am Emile. Emile Picani. My dad gave me the pearl.” Patton’s smile faltered, a glint of understanding and something else taking over the gleam on his eyes. “It’s been twenty three years.”

“Oh,” he muttered, squeezing his hands back, eyes looking for something in his gaze. Something Emile couldn’t quite place. “oh, kiddo… I am sorry.”

Emile gave him a kind, sad smile.

“Me too.”

“You really grew up fast, didn’t you, kiddo?” Remy deviated his eyes from the scene, partly because the feeling of twist on his guts meant that he was probably intruding on a private moment and partly because his attention was again held by the sudden, growing hotness which didn’t cease to expand across the entirety of the ship. Muffled screams coming from all the places and nowhere at the same time. His body started to get absurdly antsy with adrenaline, sweat dripping from his forehead.

A flaming part of the ceiling fell in the middle of their cell, jolting the two from their conversation, the blue ghost blinking a few times at the flames.

“Ah.” He speeded his pace to free them from their cell, smoke and soot starting to paint and took over the air. “Well, guess this is our clue to get going!! Come on, come on! This way!”

“Fucking heck finally.” Remy only didn’t shout his displeasure due how hurt his throat was, however he made it sure his voice wasn’t low enough so the others wouldn’t be able to notice, even though none of them opted to point his reaction, deciding instead to nearly dash through the doors and stairs of the ship until finally arrive at the handrails, ignoring the way flames danced and deviated from them, a red figure smiling brightly at Patton’s direction when he waved, yellow eyes from another golden person staring them as if he could read their souls.

Remy ignored both as another ship arrived, medium size, well conserved and barely noticeable, his eyes feeling the urge to look at everywhere except it every time he tried to concentrate his efforts to capture all the details, but he kept himself firm, noticing how it doesn’t own any visible treasure, the only thing more catching being the navy fog covering all its extent, flowing in abundance from the form in the main deck, his hands moving with precise, fast gestures.

A dark purple ghost popped from absolutely nothing in front of them, inquisitive, wary glare.

Remy narrowed his eyes back, his guts screaming to not trust the wooden board thrown at their current position, making a not very secure path from one ship to another. The purple being smirked at his expression.

“V! We’re back.”

“Good. The princey and the snake right there are almost over and Logan is growing restless. Remus is already on his room, resting.” His face lost its softness when he stared right back at the humans. “Get in. Fast.”

Emile nodded, wanting nothing more than to leave this nightmare and maybe get a good night of sleep, but his arm was held in a warm, firm – yet gentle – grip.

“Is that bitch even safe?”

V’s smirk grew. “Define ‘safe’.”

“Things that I can touch and embark without fucking dying.”

“Death is inevitable,” the purple – V, as it seems, looked smug with his words, - any choice is just a pathway to this end.”

“I’m going to fucking show him the pathway.”

“Remy, please no.” Emile sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Think I can’t punch a motherfucker ghost? Fight me.”

“I know you can’t. Bring it on.”

“Virgil.”

“Remy.”

Patton and Emile said at the same time, with the same hard tone that made both of them deflate in a very similar way, still glaring dangerously at each other, but clearly putting more physical space between them. Emile patted the ex-captain hands, warm eyes.

“Can you go first so I can hold on your cape? My balance is not very good.” Because he realized, somewhat, how he was trembling and that holding him was the one thing assuring Remy that none of this was just another crazy dream.

He gulped, then nodded, his usual snarky remark already falling.

“If I die, no offer will get me out of your back.”

“Noted.” The sailor replied, chuckling lowly.

And then they both walked to their first of many future nights, after so many tears and tears, of being able to watch the stars and feel the sea’s breeze.

Safe.

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greent-point-of-view · 4 years ago

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ENGLISH

Instead of doing just comic (that takes too long to make) I'm writing GPOV (Greent's Point Of View) and will be doing @addedtale-story in comic version only. If you gonna read in AO3 in your phone device, remember to use desktop mode so the images won't be cut Links: Wattpad || AO3 (Archive of Our Own) || Undertale Aus Amino || DeviantArt And here: you can see all the people in Unnetale

Intro

“Someone messed with the files… It was someone, a certain someone, but the memory has been forgotten… And he’ll never remember. I’ll make sure of that.” Hey friends and strangers! As the title says, this is Greent's story. He is my Sans OC. Just to be clear, this is not his AU, it is his story after what happened to his AU in this alternative timeline, so yeah you can say he's not the original Greent. This fic follows him with his adventures and discovers. Also, this will contain more of my Sans OCs, so it's not just him but he is the protagonist of his story. Warning: there is Sanscest here between a few of the characters with the progress of the story, so if you don't like that sort of thing, just don't read it, or try skipping those parts if you'd like. There will also contain a little of blood, I don't know in what level, but I'll put a warning ⚠️ for the chapters that have them. (Warnings available in Amino only) All of the art is my own, unless I say is not, so don't steal, none of them. If you do want to use any of the arts you have to ask for permission first.

→ Short spoilers for the ones that are lazy or just don't have the time to read

|| Only for the existenting chapters

Capítulo 1: Greent wakes up in a unknown place without memories of his past life and meets Xyon. They have a little talk to know each other better until Xyon has to go and asks Greent to come with him.

Capítulo 2: Xyon brings Greent to Underswap to meet two people that have also been rescued by him, their names being Puvil and Punny. In the end Xyon disappears and only returns in the next chapter, letting the boys to talk alone.

Capítulo 3: Xyon returns with a new rescued, but feeling threatened after waking up asking for a certain "Gaster" and telling that he wouldn't fall for the same bullshit, he rans away. Greent at the end of the mess instead of waiting for Xyon - that had told him to wait - decided to go after the new rescued due to glaring at him running away through the places forest.

Capítulo 4: Greent follows the new guy being able to have a little conversation, convincing him to go back to the others with him but Greent ends up passing out.

PORTUGUÊS

Oi, você é br? Não te deixei de fora não! aqui estão as versões br. Se você for ler no AO3 em seu celular lembre de ativar a versão desktop do seu browser que aí as imagens não ficam cortadas Links: Wattpad || AO3 (Archive of Our Own) || Undertale Brasil Amino E aqui: você pode ver todo o pessoal de Unnetale

Intro

“Alguém bagunçou com os arquivos… foi alguém, um certo alguém, mas a memoria foi apagada... E ele nunca vai lembrar. Eu vou fazer certeza disso.”

Eai amigos e estranhos! Como o título diz, essa é a história de Greent. Ele é um de meus Sans oc. E deixando claro, essa não é a au dele, essa é a história dele sobre o que aconteceu depois da au original dele ser destruida nesse universo paralelo, então sim, você pode dizer que ele não é o original Greent. Essa fic segue ele em suas aventuras e discobertas. Também, irá ter mais de meus Sanses ocs aqui, mas ele é o protagonista de sua própria história é claro.

Aviso: Em alguns eps conterá sanscest com uns dos personagens ao progresso da história, então se você não gosta, recomendo não ler ou tentar pular essas partes se quiser. Também conterá um pouco de sangue, não sei em que nível, mas colocarei avisos ⚠️ para os capítulos que tiver. (avisos disponiveis apenas nos Aminos)

Todos os desenhos aqui me pertencem, a não ser que eu diga ao contrário, mas não roube nenhum. Se você quiser fazer uso, deverá pedir permissão primeiro.

→ Spoilers bem curtos pra quem tem preguiça de ler ou não tem tempo

|| Apenas dos capítulos já existentes

Capítulo 1: Greent acordando em um lugar desconhecido sem lembranças de sua vida passada e conhece Xyon. Eles tem uma pequena conversa para se conhecerem melhor até que Xyon tem que ir e chama Greent para ir junto com ele.

Capítulo 2: Xyon leva Greent pra conhecer duas pessoas em Underswap que também foram resgatadas por ele, seus nomes sendo Puvil e Punny. No final Xyon some e só volta no capítulo seguinte, deixando os garotos para conversarem a sós.

Capítulo 3: Xyon volta com um novo resgatado, mas o mesmo foge sentindo-se ameaçado depois de acordar perguntando por um tal de "Gaster" e dizendo que não iria cair nas mesma palavras furadas. Greent no final da confusão em vez de esperar por Xyon - que o havia dito para esperar - resolveu ir atrás dele ao vê-lo fugindo pela floresta do local.

Capítulo 4: Greent segue o membro recém chegado que fugiu e consegue ter um pouco de conversa, convencendo-o a voltar com ele junto para os outros. Mas Greent acaba desmanhando.

#unnetale #greent's point of view #universe where greent lost his au #UndertaleAu #alternative universe #Utmv

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