Story cover for Think it Over (Boyxboy) [unedited] by cjhan88
Think it Over (Boyxboy) [unedited]
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  • WpView
    Reads 15
  • WpVote
    Votes 0
  • WpPart
    Parts 3
  • WpHistory
    Time 40m
Ongoing, First published Jul 01, 2016
THINK IT OVER 

One can't play the game, that's why I need him to play with me"- Alistair thought, probably to make his self less guiltier than he was right now "yea! that's right, it ain't my fault if I felt super bored". He gulped a nervous one. If there's anything he have to be afraid of was his heart constantly beating every time Cleo is around. 


A/N; I'm not good with story description, yea-- please kindly skip this and just read the story XD

This story may contain matured scenes and if you don't like the idea of a romance between two boys might as well find some other story to read. ;)
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The Pirate King (MxM) ⚣ ✓

62 parts Complete Mature

When Alistair Melek gave his life to the sea, a various degree of things changed. For starters, his love for bloodshed was exemplified. Bolder. He was drawn to the clash of a sword, blood spiling below to floorboards, like a moth drawn to a flame. And this love was damned to spread through his crew as some treacherous disease, claiming any and all who joined. But he knew this was the price he'd pay. The price for the sea itself. So when his crew completes another standard loot and pillage from a merchant ship, he allows his men a bit of fun. He liked to give them an audience, rounding up those who didn't fall victim to the blade during battle, and forcing them to beg for their lives. To prove how much they really wanted to live. Alistair had ruled the sea for some years now. Killed thousands, maybe tens of thousands. Destroyed hundreds, maybe thousands of vessels. And yet, each feeble human was all the same. There was not one man he threatened that didn't beg for their lives with all they had in them when faced with the wrong end of the sword. Each feeble human was always the same. Or so he thought. And yet, he also thought that this would be one standard job. A treat for his men after a night of good work. But this particular survivor, the one with long white hair and dead looking eyes... He wasn't a merchant. He couldn't have been. More important, there was no hesitancy when Alistair asked the fairly built man whether he wanted to live, and the man replied with a simple no.