#gif 2 = burned into my brain forever; would probably remember on my death bed
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THE HANDMAIDEN (2016) | directed by Park Chan-wook
#the handmaiden#kim min hee#kim taeri#park chan wook#lgbtq cinema#gif 2 = burned into my brain forever; would probably remember on my death bed#i blame this movie for keeping me up way past my bedtime last night & i regret nothing (b/c- i mean)#filmedit#filmgifs#filmtag#lgbtcinema#film#wlw#lesbian#sapphic#asiandramasource#asianlgbtqdramas#asiandramanet#mor gifs the handmaiden
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Fix You - Caius Volturi x FemOC Three Shot: Part 2
Hey guys! So, originally, this story was supposed to be a One-shot. But because of the overwhelming amount of requests I’ve received (thank you so much sweeties, by the way), I’ve decided to make it into a three parter. This is part 2, and the first part can be found on my blog. I’m not sure when I get around to writing part 3 as uni starts back up today, but I’ll try my best not to keep you in suspense for too long. This part is more centred around chaos than romance. Nothing belongs to me (including the GIF) Also, warnings: violence, blood, death.
Andromeda’s POV
The sensations were weird. First, I had been in a lot of pain around my stomach region. I could hardly breathe, let alone express my pain to the handsome-yet-creepy, blonde stranger taking care of me. Though I’m sure he knew. I mean, even I knew I was dying, and he was helpless to save me, so I didn’t bother speaking. I could see the concern in his eyes and hear his sweet whisperings as he stroked my cheeks and wiped away my tears. But these little comforts were not enough to stop the hurt. Then, when I saw him holding a huge syringe, it sent me into panic mode. I never liked needles, not to mention ones which were about to inject unfamiliar liquids into me. But he reassured me it would help, which calmed me down. Not like I could defend myself in that moment anyways. I guess it couldn’t hurt me more. It turned out he was right. After a few minutes, I noticed the pain slowly going away. Maybe it wasn’t the liquid, but the fast-approaching release of death, I wasn’t sure. My cries began to slow, and I could feel more pleasant sensations, such as the pale man stroking my hand with his thumb, gently massaging circles into it. Then, he asked,
“What is your name, omorfiá mou?”
Gasping for air, I attempted to speak,
“Andromeda,” came my whispered reply. With my half-opened eyes, I was able to see his perfect lips draw up in a smile. Focusing on his features, I didn’t even realize that my pain was entirely gone, and I was feeling rather loopy. I watched the man bend down closer to me, brushing my hair back and running his ice-cold knuckles down the side of my neck. Suddenly I felt a sense of vulnerability. I felt his cool breath hitting my ear as he whispered,
“Do not be afraid. You will live forever. You are mine now, and I will never let anything hurt you again.” I was confused and fear began to resurface. I had gotten away from one creep, only to be taken by another. This man scared me to my core. But before I could dwell on my thoughts, I saw him quickly lean down towards my neck, as if he was about to kiss me. That was not what happened.
Indeed, I momentarily felt his cool lips touch the sensitive skin of my neck. But then a sharp pain erupted. Whatever it was that he injected into me was definitely helping. I was aching again, though differently this time. It was a dull, electrifying, fiery sensation, which immediately spread from my neck to my brain, and all the way down to the tips of my toes. My body was on fire, but it was not as intense. If one were to be scratched over and over and over again, pain would increase. This was what I was going through. It was continuous and that was making it worse. An hour had passed, then two, then I lost count. I couldn’t see anything anymore, my vision clouded. Yet I could still hear him. He never seemed to leave. Others would come and go. Time would pass and I would feel needles in my arms. I assume he kept injecting me with whatever it was, which managed my pain; probably morphine. I learned his name was Caius from others who had come in and spoken to him. Caius. What an unusual name. But it fit him.
He had injected so much morphine into me that the dull burning sensation eventually stopped. That, or perhaps I adjusted to it. I could not tell how much time had passed, but by now, it had been a while, for sure. I had given up. If it were not for his constant voice, and feeling of his icy hands touching my own, I would have believed I passed on. But eventually, my vision slowly began to return. I hadn’t felt injections in hours, and no pain returned, which was strange.
The entire time I lay there, presumably dying, I thought of my life. Who would miss me? I had no parents. Both died in a car crash when I was 12. I was in the back seat and miraculously survived. Given no time to adjust to the tragedy, I was immediately placed in a foster home in New Haven, where I experienced endless amounts of bullying. But as with all foster children, my stay was temporary. For the next five years, I bounced from one home to the next. This made me reserved, quiet, and untrusting. I was socially awkward and had very few friends. My main comforts came from the company of animals. Truthfully, I got used to this solitary existence, finding that I expressed myself better through storytelling than the spoken word. In fact, my unfortunate childhood did not impact my standing at school. I was always a good student, and this landed me a fully paid scholarship to NYU where I completed a double degree in journalism and history. The lack of family and friends allowed me to dedicate all my time to my studies and work, which was conducting research for my professor. Then, after graduating, I decided to make a drastic change and start fresh with a move to Europe. For the last two years, I had spent my time travelling several countries and writing articles on historical artifacts, buildings, and churches. I sold my stories to networks as a freelance historical journalist, living alone and moving often from place to place. In fact, Volterra was my last stop in Europe before I planned to relocate to Egypt and focus on Pharaonic history there. Not many of Volterra’s tourists knew about the building I had been photographing, which was off the main street and down an alleyway. It was not glamorous, but historic, which drove me to it. That is where I was and what I was doing when I was suddenly grabbed and dragged into a dark alleyway.
My life had been flashing before my eyes over and over again. I wanted to live. To do better. To be better. I was sick of being alone. So, when my vision began returning, I was filled with motivation to live. Really live. Finally, I could focus my eyes. I stared up at what appeared to be a bed canopy. It was velvet, and dark red in color. To my right, I could sense the smell of burning candles. It was so prominent that it made my nose burn. My hands were balled into fists, grasping the cotton sheets and I could see that I ripped holes in them. How much pain was I in that I ripped a bedsheet with my bare hands? I then noticed something strange. I was not breathing. Since when was I not breathing? This frightened me immensely, and I bolted into an upright sitting position. As I did, the bed violently shook. The canopy swayed as if it would collapse at any second. Did I do this? I’m a weak little girl who couldn’t even fight off a drunk man in an alleyway, how was I doing all this? I heard a sound to my left and immediately snapped my head towards the source. It was a young woman – girl more like it – that I did not recognize. She had strange red eyes, much like my rescuer. But she frightened me more than him. There was a certain evil surrounding her, I could sense it. How, I did not know. All I knew was that she did not wish me well.
“Hello, Andromeda.” She spoke coolly.
I looked at her, suspicion and confusion painted over my face.
“H-how do you know my name?”
“Master Caius told me.”
‘Master?’ that sounded strange. Not something a girl would call a man. What was this, a sex trafficking operation? Before I could speak, she continued.
“He has been by your side. He will return any minute now. He went out hunting for you.” She spoke like an information-giving robot: just spewing facts, unmoving, her expression unchanging.
I closed my eyes and shook my head. “Hunting… that’s not necessary. I- I don’t eat meat.” Her expression finally changed. Her smirk transformed into a creepy smile, and she let out a laugh.
“Believe me, dear girl. It is not exactly meat he will be returning with.” She turned on her heels and stormed out of the room. Two guards opened the bedroom door for her and shut it as she left. So, they have my room guarded. I guess they aren’t going to let me leave.
I was not in a hurry; I needed to see Caius. Thank him. And ask him how he was able to fix me. Was I remembering correctly that he bit me?! What a strange thing to do. I looked down on my stomach, which was completely injury-free. Then, I reached my hand to the back of my neck, trying to feel any bitemarks there. Nothing. What the hell? I did not understand. I had a lot of questions and needed answers, the most pressing of which was why my throat was on fire. I would have asked the girl, but something in me yelled to keep my distance from her; that she was dangerous. Slowly, I stood up from the bed, noticing that the white dress I had on when I was shot was no longer on me. Instead, I wore a soft, white nightgown, with lace on the collar. It seemed like a typical garment from Tudor England, or something. It was unlike anything I had seen in any mall or shop. Come to think of it, the entire room had a historic, gothic feel to it. The décor resembled a royal palace.
My feet hit the marble floor and I began walking around the room, making my way to the bookshelf. There, a massive assortment of books awaited. However, they were not the typical books one would find in a normal home. These were all historic and ancient. I picked up a copy of the Iliad. Looking at the bindings, I could tell the book was old. More interestingly, it was still written in Homeric Greek – not a language many would be able to read. Whoever this belongs to was most definitely smart.
Suddenly, I felt the burning in my throat worsen. The sensation intensified to the point where I was nearly panicking. Ready to run for the doors and ask the guards for help, I heard footsteps approaching.
The door swung open, and the man… Caius walked in. No longer dying, I could properly admire his features. He looked perfect, truly. Not a single flaw on his face or skin. His nearly white, blonde hair carefully combed back behind his ears. He moved towards where I was sat in an armchair and knelt in front of me. Immediately, I was filled with a calmness. It was like I was home. I cannot describe it completely, but it was as if all problems were erased, and I was safe. This was the second time I managed to judge a person based on feelings, all within the last few minutes. First with the young woman from earlier, and now Caius. Before he could speak, the feeling was gone, and replaced once again with unease and danger, as I watched the young woman reappear, dragging a man by his wrist. Behind her, the guards entered the room and stood on either side of the man. I could feel that he was not dangerous, as the fear was practically radiating off him. The woman stepped behind him and gave him a push towards me.
“Dinner,” she stated coldly. I looked from her to the frightened man, to Caius. I could see annoyance on his face, as he turned to her and spoke.
“Must you, Jane? Do you not know of patience?”
“Forgive me, Master Caius. You were not one to show patience often, and I do learn from you.” She stated simply.
When Caius turned to me, I was grasping my throat, which was burning almost unbearably. “What is happening?!” I choked out.
“I know this will not make sense to you right now, and I will explain everything, I promise. But the only thing that will stop the ache is if you drink blood. You need to drink this man’s blood.” Caius whispered to me, out of earshot of the poor man.
I froze and looked at him with wide eyes, face in complete and utter shock.
“WHAT?! What did you just say?!” I exclaimed, not believing what I heard.
He sighed and leaned in once again, whispering. “In order to save your life from your injuries, I was forced to turn you into a vampire. You need blood, and you need it now. Trust me.” He tried again.
“I WILL NOT! ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND?!” Hastily standing, I pushed him away. My intention was to give him a normal, hard push so that he gets the message. But nothing prepared me for what happened. When I pushed him, he went flying across the room and hitting a marble column, which shattered on impact. Immediately, the room was filled with noise and dust as the column went crashing down around him. I pushed myself into the corner of the room and watched in terror. That impact would have killed an elephant. Yet Caius, simply rose, brushing dust off his blazer and pants. The evil woman – Jane as he called her – appeared emotionless as she turned her attention from Caius to me.
“Fine. More for us then,” she said. What followed, was simply too much for me to handle.
First, I heard Caius yelling, “Jane, NO!” In one swift motion, she tore the frightened man’s throat with her teeth. Blood gushed out from the wound, spilling all over the white marble floor. I screamed in terror. But what was even more terrifying than the poor man’s death, was the smell of his blood. It was driving me crazy. It was like nothing I had ever experienced it. I craved it. Needed it. And was so close to taking it all for myself. But with any remaining strength I had left, I stopped myself. This was not me. I was a vegetarian because I cared for the well-being of animals. There was not a thing in the world which would force me to do anything to harm another living soul. So, I curled up in a ball in my corner and rocked back and forth, trying to focus my senses on anything other than the delicious smell of blood.
“I will deal with you later. Take him and leave, now!” I heard Caius’ voice. “You are not to come here again; you are not to see her! Now go!”
“Yes, Master Caius.” I heard her disgusting, venomous voice once again as she left. The doors closed and the room was filled with silence.
I momentarily thought Caius left too, but then I felt the sensation of safety return to me.
“How did I do that?” I ask with a shaking voice.
“You are a new vampire. For the first few weeks, you will be stronger than the rest of us. This will pass, and you will adjust.” He said gently.
I continued hugging my knees and rocking. Caius continued.
“This is not how a newborn should experience the first moments. But Andromeda…” he hesitated, “You need to feed. If you do not, it will only get worse. Your awareness will seize to function, and you will eventually kill more than you would have otherwise.”
With no response from me, Caius reached for my hands, placing his own over them. This woke a rage inside of me. I grasped his wrists and pushed him backwards. His back hit the wall, not as hard this time. I began speaking.
“You did this to me. You made me this… this… monster. This is on you. You should have let me die. Now, because of your selfish need for heroism, I will murder countless others.”
We both rose to our feet. He gently approached me again, saying my name, but I held my hand up to block him. “Get out. I don’t ever want to see you again. I hate you.”
With that, I pushed him towards the direction of the door. He paused,
“Andromeda-”
“GET OUT!” I picked up a glass vase and threw it in his direction, and he finally left. I sat down on the cold marble tiles, pressing my back against the wall, and screamed in agony.
#caius volturi#caius#twilight#new moon#eclipse#breaking dawn#volturi#volturi imagine#oneshot requests#oneshots#vampire#love#romance#hurt comfort#jane volturi
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