Post by Finn Whelan on Mar 24, 2020 0:05:40 GMT
A treasure Aur was.
One of the most valuable and magnificent Finneas had ever been privy to lay eyes upon. He didn't belong locked away like most everything else the Pirate valued. He was too magnificent to hold in such a manner. Too radiant to not be part of this world, but oh how that dragon eyed greed in the Wolf's soul wanted to curl around the man and not ever release his hold for the rest of his days.
The near unfinished mention of husband had caught him off guard, however. Finn loved Aurelius Adalbern. He had no doubt about that, but commitment was another beast of a different variety that he was unsure he was ready to square off against. How could he want to be free, but want to hold tightly to Aur at the same time? That was a next level selfishness he couldn't even explain to himself, but he knew it was wrong. Knew it was a green eyed monster by the name of Envy with it's golden counterpart Greed.
He felt it, he knew he did. He wanted everything and one thing all at once and that only confirmed he was not ready for the mature sort of relationship Aurelius was.
It didn't mean he didn't still have the overwhelming desire to never part from the man.
That feeling was going nowhere fast, watching the conflicted and saddened gaze of his friend beneath him before he found their positions all at once switched and he was now staring up at the Warrior who'd spun him onto his back so quickly Finn had barely had time to register what was happening before his shirt was ripped away from his body.
A sharp exhale, excitement lighting in his chest as he blinked quizzically up at the Bear over top his form.
Now there was a sight to behold.
His hands wandering the chest splayed out above his own, relishing ever ridge and detail that rippled beneath his open palms, lingering on the chain of the necklace that had once hung from his own person with a soft fondness, smiling at the sight of it adorning his King and protector. That handsome man whose blonde hair fell around his face like a waterfall formed from gold.
A request meeting his ears as fingers slid across the canvas of his body that held markings like a tapestry of the life he'd led. He was no Warrior like Aurelius. Most wounds were not from amazing battles, perhaps a few, but from the dangers that lurked in the life he'd lived. A life flooded by seedy and underhanded men and woman who could often strike first and ask questions later, or friends that were serpents lying in wait in tall grass just waiting for your guard to lower so that they might strike.
And then the self made and forced colors inked into his skin. Tattoos, not many. Just three.
A wolf across his left pec, right over where his heart was while a dagger stretched down his forearm and finally, lurking low on his abdomen, trailing just over an area of promiscuity was a mermaid with a Fleur-de-lis behind her.
To say nothing of the various sword and dagger wounds coupled by the gunshots.
"Where shall I begin?" he asked in a husky tone, taking Aur's hand in his own to splay his palm over his chest right where the wolf was.
"This one," his lips tight in a remembered disdain, "Was my first tattoo. I was merely a lad at the time and my Captain, Gaspard Dupont, though it comical to have me held down and inked as his...Young Wolf."
There was a mix of emotions on his face. He respected his old Captain almost as much as he seemed to hate the man. An equivocal balance of loathing and loss in his furrowed brow. How he could love a man he'd often wanted to murder in his sleep he still didn't quite understand. The relationship was greatly complex.
"I..hurt people- under his orders. Not all of them bad people either, perhaps not necessarily good people. But not bad either."
He paused with a clench of his jaw rippling along his cheekbones, his fingers tightening against the King's own as he held to them.
"Eux ou vous," he echoed the words of French he'd heard so many times they still seemed to echo in his skull, "Them or you," he translated.
A command he would never forget for the rest of his days.
A promise that whatever pain Gaspard wanted inflicted upon another, if Finn did not comply, it would be a pain he would feel himself. There are times he had. Some of the scars upon his body could attest to as much.
But that was not a happy story, though he supposed none written on his torso really were.
He'd never told anyone that before. The only on the crew that had known Gaspard were Emry and Gavin, but even they did not know what the Captain had made Finn do behind closed doors.
"No one still alive knows the truth of this tattoo," his eyes glancing up to peer into those of the man above him, releasing his hand to brush his fingers through those dangling strands of sunlight, "Save for you."
One of the most valuable and magnificent Finneas had ever been privy to lay eyes upon. He didn't belong locked away like most everything else the Pirate valued. He was too magnificent to hold in such a manner. Too radiant to not be part of this world, but oh how that dragon eyed greed in the Wolf's soul wanted to curl around the man and not ever release his hold for the rest of his days.
The near unfinished mention of husband had caught him off guard, however. Finn loved Aurelius Adalbern. He had no doubt about that, but commitment was another beast of a different variety that he was unsure he was ready to square off against. How could he want to be free, but want to hold tightly to Aur at the same time? That was a next level selfishness he couldn't even explain to himself, but he knew it was wrong. Knew it was a green eyed monster by the name of Envy with it's golden counterpart Greed.
He felt it, he knew he did. He wanted everything and one thing all at once and that only confirmed he was not ready for the mature sort of relationship Aurelius was.
It didn't mean he didn't still have the overwhelming desire to never part from the man.
That feeling was going nowhere fast, watching the conflicted and saddened gaze of his friend beneath him before he found their positions all at once switched and he was now staring up at the Warrior who'd spun him onto his back so quickly Finn had barely had time to register what was happening before his shirt was ripped away from his body.
A sharp exhale, excitement lighting in his chest as he blinked quizzically up at the Bear over top his form.
Now there was a sight to behold.
His hands wandering the chest splayed out above his own, relishing ever ridge and detail that rippled beneath his open palms, lingering on the chain of the necklace that had once hung from his own person with a soft fondness, smiling at the sight of it adorning his King and protector. That handsome man whose blonde hair fell around his face like a waterfall formed from gold.
A request meeting his ears as fingers slid across the canvas of his body that held markings like a tapestry of the life he'd led. He was no Warrior like Aurelius. Most wounds were not from amazing battles, perhaps a few, but from the dangers that lurked in the life he'd lived. A life flooded by seedy and underhanded men and woman who could often strike first and ask questions later, or friends that were serpents lying in wait in tall grass just waiting for your guard to lower so that they might strike.
And then the self made and forced colors inked into his skin. Tattoos, not many. Just three.
A wolf across his left pec, right over where his heart was while a dagger stretched down his forearm and finally, lurking low on his abdomen, trailing just over an area of promiscuity was a mermaid with a Fleur-de-lis behind her.
To say nothing of the various sword and dagger wounds coupled by the gunshots.
"Where shall I begin?" he asked in a husky tone, taking Aur's hand in his own to splay his palm over his chest right where the wolf was.
"This one," his lips tight in a remembered disdain, "Was my first tattoo. I was merely a lad at the time and my Captain, Gaspard Dupont, though it comical to have me held down and inked as his...Young Wolf."
There was a mix of emotions on his face. He respected his old Captain almost as much as he seemed to hate the man. An equivocal balance of loathing and loss in his furrowed brow. How he could love a man he'd often wanted to murder in his sleep he still didn't quite understand. The relationship was greatly complex.
"I..hurt people- under his orders. Not all of them bad people either, perhaps not necessarily good people. But not bad either."
He paused with a clench of his jaw rippling along his cheekbones, his fingers tightening against the King's own as he held to them.
"Eux ou vous," he echoed the words of French he'd heard so many times they still seemed to echo in his skull, "Them or you," he translated.
A command he would never forget for the rest of his days.
A promise that whatever pain Gaspard wanted inflicted upon another, if Finn did not comply, it would be a pain he would feel himself. There are times he had. Some of the scars upon his body could attest to as much.
But that was not a happy story, though he supposed none written on his torso really were.
He'd never told anyone that before. The only on the crew that had known Gaspard were Emry and Gavin, but even they did not know what the Captain had made Finn do behind closed doors.
"No one still alive knows the truth of this tattoo," his eyes glancing up to peer into those of the man above him, releasing his hand to brush his fingers through those dangling strands of sunlight, "Save for you."