A/N: Hello! Name's Key. I've got another account here, but I decided to remake it here; after all, the stories on my other account were badly written, old and unfinished. Far too many to redo, too, so I decided to remake my account. Here, I will only work on one story at a time until I finish it. But, here's my first one. Based on the song Gay Pirates, by Cosmo Jarvis, I give you the Fluri fanfiction You're My Land Ahoy. Warnings for yaoi (boyxboy), violence, rape, suicidal thoughts, etc. Also note, the characters will be slightly OOC; this is to be expected, as this is an Alternate Universe. This fic is told from Yuri's PoV.

Disclaimer: I do not own any rights to any characters used in this story, only the plotline and writing itself is mine. The characters, Tales of Vesperia and otherwise Tales series belongs to Bandai Namco.

You're My Land Ahoy: Chapter I - Salty Waters


This water is too salty, for me to even drink,

I'd rather walk the dreaded plank

Than stay another week

A man leaned against the ship's railing, his eyes gazing towards the shrinking port in the distance, long, silky black hair ruffled by the sea's salty breeze, the creaking and rocking off the ship going unminded by the seaman. His eyes, as gray as the storm clouds that occasionally swelled above the waves, seemed to dim as the port slid into the distance, briefly flickering back. His hope for escaping this godforsaken ship was shrinking with the strip of land and he decided not to dwell on his misfortune and inability to escape, held under the captain's eye - literally, the captain only had one eye - far too much to even attempt to slip away.

Escape would be a word not in his vocabulary for a long time. At least, physical vocabulary, that is. The crew on the Sea Dragon were practically held on reins. Especially more low-ranking members, like himself.

Sighing quite audibly, he straightened, tugging on the ends of his black, baggy shirt, before rolling the sleeves up to expose the brown undersides of them. He reached back, fixing his hair into a slightly higher ponytail than just being held at the end, the thin gray fabric being quite neatly tied. He yawned, stretching briefly with such a lackadasisical manner that, had the deck's crew not been busy with their own thing, would have likely been punished for some manner of 'slacking on the job'. One eye opening, it briefly fell on the sponge and bucket, what he was supposed to be doing.

He wished he could just drop this job on some other crew member, because honestly, this was ridiculous. The ship was practically spotless; there was a ridiculous amount of cleaning that was done. Anyone who wasn't manning cannons might be cleaning them, and anyone who wasn't raising the sails might be cleaning the wood under them. All becaused of their navigator; a pesky old man who anyone could've mistaken for a noble, named Ragou. He, on annoyingly good terms with the captain (although, thankfully not as much with the quartermaster), ordered them to do the cleaning. And the man was practically OCD about it, too. It had to be clean, clean, clean.

A second, now annoyed sigh escaped him, before he kneeled down, taking the soapy sponge from the bucket of very unclean water, ignoring how it slopped a bit of rusty water on his boots and pants, looking annoyedly at the mostly-clean deck, although it was constantly being riddled by bootprints, spilled rum, vomit, blood, spit...you name it. Beginning to scrub the floor, mostly aimlessly, just to look like he was doing something, though his eyes occasionally flickered up in brief attention to make sure that his remaining in the same spot wasn't too noticable.

For a while he continued, mind drifting off to random subjects. Maybe he'd get to fight something soon, as that usually helped him cool off his stress. That was one thing he was, thankfully, allowed to do; fight. Everyone was, really. The young man had a knack with the simple sword that he kept tied around his waist with a simple cord of leather. It'd been something he'd looted - and had kept, for thankfully, this was one ship where if you were the one who got it, you kept it. That is, if no one above you wanted what you had. And, thankfully, no one did; as it was a rich, trading ship, there were expensive spoils to be passed around the pirates - yes, he was a pirate but he liked to keep that idea under wraps, especially in public. Anyway, there had been enough weapons, gold, and other sorts of treasures and items that his simple taking of a steel katana went unnoticed. Well, a steel katana and gold-and-ruby bracelet.

His mind had started to ramble when sudden footsteps caught him off guard. Eyes snapping up to the newcomer, his hand let go of the sponge and darted towards the sword's sheathe -

Oh, no worries. It was just...him. The young man, the same age and height as he was, walked towards him. His blond hair was wild, and, although when he had first seen the boy (they met at age sixteen - the ship, they'd been on ever since) it was a little better down, it went unkempt after five years on a pirate ship. The blue-eyed young male (really, he was way too bright to be on a pirate ship - he'd expect to see someone like this on a Navy ship or something, no offense intended) wore a simple white, collared shirt, and brown pants, and black boots. Strapped along his right thigh was a pistol, and attached to his belt, a blue-steel sword. He was obviously much more neat than the raven-haired male, who's clothes were in worse condition, and the shirt was undone far down his chest.

But it's you, my love -

You're my land ahoy

"Yuri," the blond spoke in greeting, his voice almost happy and with a pleasant smile as he walked towards the raven-haired man; Yuri Lowell. Unlike Yuri, the bucket that weighed down his right hand a little bit also had a mop, which he was slightly jealous for; it was much easier to clean with that than the stupid little six-inch-long sponge.

"Hey, Flynn. Come to trade cleaning things?" Yuri replied, waving to the abandonded sponge on the ground, and Flynn shook his head.

"Heh," he replied, "you wish, don't you? Well, unfortunately, no. Actually, I came here to tell you -"

The blond was cut off by a loud snarl, the voice aged but high-pitched, and somehow still sounding male. Both Yuri and Flynn's gazes snapped towards the noise that they recognized terribly too well. Standing with a long, black sailor's coat, stepping towards them now, an older, short man stormed towards them. A few crew members moved out of the man's way, except one who was roughly shoved aside, and let the navigator know he was displeased with the push quite loudly. Had not the person next to the irrate young man spoken something quietly, the navigator would probably have a knife to the stomach right now. The person, taller than the one that was pushed, earned a sharp, burning leer and a huffing growl, the man turning and stalking away as Ragou stormed nearer.

The navigator of the Sea Dragon stopped once he was in front of them, and while Yuri's lip curled slightly in disgust at the gray-haired man, Flynn winced at the final stomping step. Yuri knew why, too; both the captain, navigator, and majority of the ship knew about their...ah, well, their not so usual relationship. And, for the most part, the entire ship enjoyed to point it out. And not only just with words.

And I'm sick of being beaten

Ragou reached behind his back and Yuri and Flynn both knew what was coming next. The pirate pulled out a long, leather cord, before he smirked wickedly. Calling two crewmen over, who did not protest in the least, especially after seeing the device in Ragou's hand, he straightened and, with his free hand, waved at Flynn.

"Come here," he spoke, and the blond, gaze briefly flickering down at Yuri before back at the navigator, stepped forward. The man grabbed the young male by the arm and turned him around and his cruel smirk morphed into an even crueller grin. He outstretched Flynn's arm, and Yuri caught the confused glance the blond gave the pirate.

With his other hand, Ragou brought up the whip, before placing it in Flynn's hand. Silvery, beady eyes coldly looked up at him as he spoke; "Why don't you show him his place, hm? They say punishment is always more effective when it's from people you love, yes?" These chilling words caused Flynn to visibly stiffen, and Yuri's eyes widened.

"...I-I can't-" Flynn started and Ragou cut him off, beginning to slowly pull the whip away. "Then I'll do it," he said. "Originally, it was only going to be ten lashes, for him...but, ah, nevertheless, I suppose both of you require punishment now. Twenty for both, how's that sound? Maybe one of these crew members here would do it." He waved at them. "Might earn 'm a raise."

Flynn swallowed and Yuri got to his feet completely. "Flynn, do it. You don't need both of us getting hurt, and you'll make it less lashes, anyway. Just do it. I'll be fine."

The blond was apparently quick to see Yuri's judgement in that because he faltered a little bit and Ragou's grinned stretched impossibly wider, looking like a Cheshire cat that had lost a few teeth. "Well, then, will you do it, boy?"

"...a-aye," came the slightly weak response.

And whipped and lashed to death

He leaned away, smirking. "Good," he responded, "nice, and slow. Make it painful." He waved towards the two crewmen again, and they both stepped forward, grabbing Yuri to hold him in place, and one wrenched his shirt turned him, his back to Flynn and Ragou. He could sense Flynn's hesitation, and he heard Ragou snap, "Well, get on with it!" Nearly right after this was said -

Ow!

His body jerked forward, held up by the men on either side of him, and his eyes shut tightly as a pained hissed escaped through his grit teeth, the cord having quite well sunk into his flesh. Feeling a wet, sticky sensation on his back, no doubt the first lash had broken flesh.

"Count!" he heard Ragou snap, at Flynn however, and he could hear the slight tap as the blond tried to move away from the terribly too close navigator, and another weak "Aye" was heard, this coming from Flynn's mouth. He spoke before he brought down the whip again; "T- Two!"

His fingers curled deeply into his palms, enough that it turned his knuckles white. Eyes tightly closed, and teeth clenching his mouth shut tightly, he refused to give any pained noises other than grunts or hisses. However, it was becoming increasingly harder.

"Th-three - f-four, five - six..."

By now his back felt like it was on fire. The sticky feeling had increased, the other lashes having both created and reopened lash wounds. Finally, he could no longer hold in his pain. He let out a cry; this hurt, and, although he had experienced everything from lashing, beating to branding, maybe it was worse knowing that Flynn was doing this. While hesitation slowed Flynn's arm (and, that made it hurt worse, mind you), still... But then again, I told him to.

That, or, Flynn swung a mean whip. Forcibly so, maybe, but that hurt.

"S-seven, eight - nine...t-ten..."

He heard Flynn's voice crack on ten. Obviously, it was hurting Flynn to do this. Some part, a selfish bit, was snapping, Hey, he shouldn't be "hurting". He's not the one suffering through another flogging. However, he didn't expect what happened next.

He heard a pained cry - not his own, not Flynn's, and neither of the crew member's. It was Ragou's. The crewmen released him, and he fell forward, now-loose hair draping across his shoulders and marred back, and he turned his head to see what had happened.

Flynn was backing up, eyes wide in an expression that could be scarcely categorized into anything less than oh no. The whip was slightly raised, and he was facing towards Ragou. Yuri couldn't help but have a tiny smirk as he noticed the rapidly reddening cord-shaped mark on Ragou's face, and slightly ripped clothing. However, the smirk faded when the man's leer sharpened twice as much. Yuri understood why Flynn's face was fearful; he had just lashed the navigator. One that absolutely hated both of them.

Yuri was at least a little glad Ragou had little physical strength. However, he was not as glad for the two men that were so ready to follow the man's orders. He knew them as members that weren't big fans of either Flynn or himself. No wonder they were excited for being encouraged to get at the two.

Ragou let out a string of curses, and Yuri saw Flynn take another step back - right into one of the men. The navigator nodded, and the man grabbed Flynn by the shoulders, causing the smaller blond to jump slightly and he quickly tried to move away. However, the tall, burly pirate was stronger than Flynn was, holding him still, and his struggles were countered by the second man, sending a hard blow to the blond's stomach that caused him to cough, jerking forward a little. His bright blue eyes closed.

Yuri winced as well, more from the sight than anything. He didn't like seeing Flynn get hurt, the same as it was the other time around.

"Flynn...!" he called out, although he knew his voice would do nothing. He could try to stop them - but it would only end up getting them both hurt worse; Flynn was stronger than he was, and had been easily overpowered by the two. Yuri, with the lashes on his back, would likely hardly do anything.

That, and a scathing glare stopped him from even trying to get up. He grit his teeth, his pain ignored over anger and frustration, and it was quickly obvious from how his eyes flared. He hated this, feeling so helpless against these - this damn crew, that damn navigator, and the damned captain. There was nothing he could do to get them - any of them - to stop, and that fact ate him from the inside out.

He cursed aloud, but that did no help either, and he heard a slight snarl of pain from where Flynn was getting assaulted.

It hurt him even worse, to know that he was used to this. He was used to getting beaten or lashed, used to watching it happen to Flynn, and sometimes even worse things happen.

However, his dread worsened; worse things often did come, and he feared, as one of the men grabbed Flynn's blond hair and snapped something like, "You need to be taught your place, pretty boy," and Yuri swallowed, knowing all too well what was going to happen, and apparently Flynn did too, because his eyes opened wide and his struggles renewed, but these attempts at escaping the man's grip, like before, were in vain, and the man kept tight hold on the younger male's shoulder, before yanking him along, towards the door that led down to the brig. Yuri winced slightly as the second man followed and, after the two shoved Flynn inside and followed, slamming the door to the brig shut behind them.

I want one night with no gang-rape,

But I won't hold my breath

. . . . .

Fwwhsh...

Fwwhsh...

Fwwwwwshhh..

Yuri glanced over at the sleeping form in a hammock near his own. He couldn't sleep; he couldn't find a position comfortable enough to stop stirring his still-aching wounds. So, constantly shifting, he listened to the waves that lightly rocked the pirate ship, mind drifting like it had earlier. At least, now, he had no distractions.

It was the day (well, night, actually, he thought) after he'd been whipped and Flynn...well, raped. The way the lashes on his back still stung probably wasn't healthy, and they hadn't been cleaned - very much, that is - and they had only been covered by a strip of torn cloth he used as a sort of bandage, and that didn't help much either; dried blood was caked upon it because he'd used it for other things, and he had nothing to change the bandage too. Washing it out wouldn't be that easy, because the only thing used for washing anything was dirty water and that would likely make whatever infection he might be catching from the open wounds twice as worse.

Nights like this, where he couldn't sleep due to thinking or just the fact that his injuries kept him from doing so, were not uncommon, either. Some after a battle, some after watching someone forced to walk the plank, some after his own beatings, some after Flynn's. He no longer even thought about it, and didn't care about the lack of sleep that usually haunted him for a few days even afterwards, his sleeping habits always being easily twisted.

Wonder when we'll be stopping at the next port, he thought to himself, before his thoughts paused. Hell, what am I saying...? There'll be no escape even then. And, even if I did...

Yes, he was a pirate. And someone charged with piracy...

He swallowed, raising one hand a little bit and rubbed at his neck. That wasn't much of an ideal ending either. He'd prefer to keep breathing. And his neck unbroken. Yuri Lowell wasn't going to get caught and hanged by the Navy.

Well...not if he could help it, at least. He wasn't a very known pirate; he'd be surprised if they even knew his name. If he did escape, even so, he'd have to lay low for a while; months, maybe. Or even years. Because, even if the Navy soldiers didn't recognize and arrest him, the Sea Dragon was a known ship, and its captain, Barbos, never had mercy. Even for those that barely were known by the name for him, he was not going to let a crew member just jump ship, or escape.

He believed that everyone needed to be...quote, "shown their place". It seemed this ship had quite a thing for that statement, and everyone's "place" was very strict and set. Just like his own was low, and like the quartermaster's was high.

Which brought his mind to rambling on this topic;

The quartermaster, at least, didn't seem to particularly dislike him or Flynn, although he favored the latter to the former. His name was Alexei, and to be honest, both of them would have far rather that Alexei be the captain, and Barbos just be frankly off the ship.

But, that wasn't going to happen. Without mutiny, of course. And, then, there was that topic.

Mutiny would certainly be an option. Well, would, if there weren't but about four people that didn't mind them, and gaining more without alerting the captain would most likely be difficult. And, asking anyone of authority (tempted to ask Alexei...but if he says no, we'll be the next ones to walk the plank - hell, that was something that didn't happen often in other pirate ships, but he just had to get on the one ship that had a sadistic-ass captain).

He sighed aloud, but quietly as to not wake anyone in the room. Rolling over to his other side, albeit with some difficulty and pain, he closed his eyes again. He didn't know how much time had gone on since he had first lay down, but it seemed nothing had changed, and now, he wanted to go to sleep. He'd done enough wishful thinking and mulling over possible mutiny and he was just flat out tired now, even if it seemed for no reason.

Slowly, he fell asleep. However, like most nights, he did not sleep soundly.

But it's you, my love -

You're my land ahoy

Yeah, you're my boy


A/N: Uhg, it feels rushed...but this is the first fanfiction I've completely plotted out before starting, so, once I finish it all, I'll probably go back and rewrite it to make sure that all the loose ends are tied up and there's no plotholes. But, did you enjoy it? Please review, because, heh, I need to know what you like and what you don't; I know my writing's far from the best, so I'd like to know what would be good in changing it.

Also, I'll have you know...I kind of seriously suck at length. I was going to do 5k words per chapter but...me being Key, I quickly abandonded that. This is more of an introductory chapter, anyway. Speaking of, I plan on having 6 chapters, and each chapter should be posted at around a weekly/biweekly rate. Thank you!