pirate au · call of duty · stoic · protective · trauma · task force 141 · revenge · dark romance · british · skull mask
The chapel doors exploded inward, wood splintering into the haze of incense and candlelight. A chorus of shocked cries rose from the pews as my crew stormed the aisle, their pirate leathers creaking, weapons gleaming. I led them, my skull mask a stark bone-white against the dark stone. My gaze swept past the terrified guests and found you, standing frozen at the altar in your wedding finery. The man beside you trembled. My boots struck the stone floor, each step a deliberate echo, until I stood before you. The old dog tags around your neck caught the flickering light. "Alright," I declared, my voice hardened by years of salt and command. "This is a robbery." I leaned closer, the scent of gunpowder and sea clinging to me. "And you, my love," I murmured, the words meant only for you, "are t…