/ tw: physical/mental abuse

Pincher didn't like following orders. Which was the reason he enjoyed the power of being Captain. Not because it solely offered him full command over the ranks that he had created but also because he didn't want to be told what to do. The reasons were rather stupid and childish but it was because his entire life before becoming a Captain, Pincher had been forced to do things he never wanted to do because he had decided to follow the orders of his superiors. Pincher do this, Pincher do that. Pincher go kill this old lady because she's the mother of our enemies. It had disgusted and angered him how he had allowed himself to be pushed around but Pincher as a child had nowhere else to turn to. He had been nowhere near his home and had no clue how to travel without getting captured in the mess that his father had created with other gangs or criminals. They all knew the name Archer but went by Archie and connected to that name was of his twin brother who was also named Archie and their little minion, Pincher. He did what he was told to do but he always had questions, always had something to protest to which would earn him a heavy remark and a punishment that would silence him with a bloody nose. It would hurt and Pincher remembered the burning tears that would swell up in his eyes when he would run to hide somewhere before forcing himself to finish the task as a hitman. He had only been 4 months when he had killed someone, his small claws sinking into the skin of a stranger and sinking his switchblade into their throat, watching them attempt to cry out for help but choke on their own blood while Pincher stumbled away, his body dripping with rain and blood. After that, killing became easier. He was still hesitant but when it came to his enemies, he was ready to kill any of them no matter the consequences. He accepted it and now he was no longer allowed to enter the gates of heaven, only hell offering 'shelter' in the afterlife. Or so he thought.

When he had died, Pincher had expected a burning inferno that was hell but instead he was in a muffled underwater darkness that was so cold, it pierced through his skin and dug into his bones. He remembered simply floating, barely a few feet off the sea floor and paralyzed, his lungs needing to scream for help as the scars on his neck had turned into gills and he was able to breathe in the darkness. But that was all he could do. Breathe. And it haunted him how then he felt searing pain in his back legs and then a lesser pain on his shoulders, the same spot where his glowing aqua blue tattoos now were located. He remembered hearing voices in the water but they were hardly audible and spoke in a tongue that he had never heard of or was able to decipher. He was helpless and he had despised it for it only reminded him of how he had been when he had allowed his father's tyrannical rule to force him into something he was not. He was troubled those thoughts now, the past taunting him while he was on board the Tempest, the lean jaguar inspecting the damage that the tsunami had done to the dark wood of the ship. She seemed okay, a few scratches her and there due to the rocks that had struck her but other than that, it seemed in decent condition. He raised a bone white paw to rub the side of his temple, feeling a sudden wave of nausea strike him. Was his chest on the move again? Was it caught up in another current? He only felt nauseous when it happened and Pincher balanced himself against the edge of the ship, a small groan rumbling in his throat as the jaguar felt odd. Different. Then his pale bubblegum colored nose began to tickle and Pincher wrinkled it, trying to suppress the sneeze. Except, he failed at doing so.

Pincher sneezed and suddenly, the male launched up into the air with an explosive gust of air coming out of his jaws. The wildcat shot up, his scarred form writhing in the air as he flew off the ship, a loud "FUCK" ringing out in the air before he crashed into the ocean, his body dissappearing in the waves. As he sunk, a look of shock was plastered to his face as he glanced around warily, confused on what the hell had happened. Had he just sneezed and flew 10 feet into the air? He blinked, glancing around at the dark coral reefs since the sun had begun to set at the horizon, the orange hue of the sky now becoming weaker and succuming to the darkness that the night offered. Pincher sighed, a small trail of bubbles escaping his jaws and floating into the surface as he reached the bottom of the reef, the jaguar glancing around in boredom as he realized that perhaps he had recieved another power which others called air elemental. Rather useless but he supposed it could be good for certain situations as the demigod began to swim up to resurface and head to the shore. Then he felt his tattoos suddenly burn with an acid like sensation causing the male to let out a gasp of pain and flip around, expecting to find the nokken water spirits that had brought him back to life. Instead, as he turned, his chest was suddenly struck four times with small yet razor sharp spears causing Pincher's eyes to widen with horror as the pain filled his system and pale green blue blood began to dance out of his body and into the water. Shit... he thought as Pincher realized that this was not good.

They were most likely mad at him for not recently hunting victims for them to feed but Pincher had grown tired, simply avoiding going out at night to do his part of the bargain even though he never agreed to the terms of being an undying servant for the bastards. He could hear their shrill cries of irritation and Pincher began to swim back to the shore, wincing at the pain that blossomed from his chest. Fuck, did they really have to do that? He knew he couldn't die but he could still feel the pain. As the dark iron gray demigod dragged himself out of the water and back onto shore, Pincher went into a slouched sitting position with his dark ink black tail curling lazily around his trembling shivering form as he raised a paw and tugged at one of the spears. It didn't budge. It was deep in his chest but he no longer had a heart so it just dug into his lungs, making it difficult to breathe. Gritting his teeth, he yanked one off with a grunt, a sharp hushed quiet string of curse words in Romanian the only thing he offered as a release as he dropped the dark spear onto the sand, watching his glowing tainted blood mix into the sand and salt water. He closed his glacier blue eyes, sighing with relief before glancing down at the three other spears imbedded into him. Fucking great.

© LEXASPERATED