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#it always felt like i was going to stumble over myself and fall overboard
corpsoir · 2 years
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lovart in his lifejacket matching skagen's and solvei's!!!
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mitfloya · 8 months
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𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐃𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐒𝐩𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬: 𝐙𝐚𝐲𝐧𝐞
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pairings. Zayne x gn!reader
wc. 7K (yes, I like to torture myself)
synopsis. He was believed to be devoid of emotions, until you unveils his chilling secret. His hidden obsession with you has ensnared you in his icy sanctuary. You were blind to his fixation until it was too late, and now you find yourself trapped in his clutches, unable to escape.
warnings. The following content contains elements of obsessive behavior, yandere thoughts, stalking, possessive behavior, and may include poorly written narratives. Reader is referred to as 'you'. Proceed with caution, as this writing may be unsettling or uncomfortable for some individuals.
a/n. Hello people of the internet! I’m pretty new on this writing community so I hope I bring you guys some good crumbs to munch on! and excuse my horrible grammatical errors, English is not my first language. I may or may not have spend my time throwing up this whole ass detailed (press x to doubt) HC out of my mind, I tend to go overboard with my analysis and writing. Get some snacks and I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoy making this HC.
p.s. this is a reupload ver. the original of the post is accidently deleted
♡ Please reblog and comment on this post are much, much appreciated ♡
Ah…the ice king himself, known for his emotional detachment and seemingly heartless demeanor. His motives and intentions remain shrouded in mystery, as he builds impenetrable walls around himself. Yet, somehow, you managed to slip through those barriers, like a delicate flower pushing through the cracks in concrete, planting the seed of love without his knowledge.
Does he act upon it? Certainly not at first. He ignores it. Pretend that is was merely a sign you were someone he tolerated.
His acts of kindness are always subtle and unexpected. He treats you in a way that evokes certain reactions.
At first, he might seem out of reach. But you never know that he is always there for you. Always observing and studying your responses.
As you both transition into adulthood, he becomes your primary physician, a role that only intensifies his growing obsession with you. He never considered himself capable of falling in love at first sight, but his feelings for you gradually took root. He is always there with you, from childhood and in adulthood. Fate must have bestowed him with great luck to be your guardian, the one who monitors your health and controls your existence.
The time when you both went on your separate ways before you met again, he feels a void, a sense that something is missing. Maybe you meant more than he thought. The loss of you kills him. But does this heavy feeling affect his daily activities? no.
The thought of not knowing about your health and safety gnaws at him, like a splinter lodged in his mind. Have you eaten yet? Did you eat enough? Did you get enough sleep? Did you stumble upon an accident? Just a single scratch of wound on your skin would infuriate him.
You, on the other hand, dismiss it as the instinctual concern of a physician, and your own health condition made it even more difficult for him to let you go. You were far too precious to be released or, worse, left alone and broken.
Even when you’re away on your mission, he always ask about your being and whereabouts. He just wanted to know how you’re doing and it shows how much he cares for you, not monitoring you! That’s ridiculous, right?
However, whenever you were around him, you never felt like you were in control of your own bodily autonomy. Maybe you’re seeing things but have you realize how much you’re changing your lifestyle?
Zayne intelligence is no joke. You were far too naive to look back over your shoulder to notice he is manipulating you. He wants you to be completely dependent on him. But is it really that bad? After all, he was providing you with a healthier lifestyle, not to mention preserving your beauty. Or so it seemed.
Oh, but when you became his, everything changed. He became more open, more loving and caring, the kind that makes you melt to the ground and swallow you whole. Always attentive to your needs and wants, he has no problem with you buying expensive items, the money isn’t his concern. Your happiness is.
His actions become more evident, sometimes you notice it in the way he always makes sure you’re fully geared up and energized for the day, or the way he tries his best to brighten up your day in rainy days.
And when the time came for you to move in together, almost imperceptibly, it felt natural, that’s when he brings the real authenticity of himself, the carnal desire to claim over you starts to show.
He adorned you with the finest fabrics, adorned you with the most exquisite gems and jewelry that accentuated your beauty without overshadowing it. He always gives you the best and never less.
No one would question how many pictures he has of you around the house, as they simply depicted a man deeply in love with his partner…wait, you don’t remember taking this picture..how did he get this picture? 
Caleb gives it to him. As always he has answers to everything, it makes you think he is expecting that kind of question, which is an odd behavior.
Even the windowsill display those seals and trinkets he has given you over the years, customized to your liking.
You saw it as a preservation of memories and the time he had spent with you, when it’s clearly a growing sign of obsession with the abundance of things of your own possessions, or things that reminded him of you were around the house, to the dark corners of his secret room you were unaware of. 
You don’t realize you were brainwashed, did you? Or maybe because he is telling the truth from the start, he loves you very much and his actions serve as undeniable proof!
Until you try to resist or argue with him. It would be best for you to stay obedient and let him lead, he is the man in the relationship, you are his good girl, right? He never wants to hurt you, he is doing it for the better sake of you.
You learned your lesson when you got your first punishment. Each mistake or letdown adds a droplet, gradually increasing the intensity. When the glass finally overflows, it serves as a stark warning to never hurt or disappoint him.
Your life revolves around him. You want to buy groceries? Wait until he finish work. You want to go to the park? Let’s go together and don’t forget your coat, he doesn’t want you to get cold. You want to have some time alone outside? Sure.
Ah, the innocence of those early stages of dating, when the idea of tracking your partner's whereabouts seemed endearing. Little did you know that innocent app you stumbled upon on a social media platform would become the chains that bind you. In the beginning, it seemed like a cute way to track the distance between you and your partner.
That app, like a digital spider's web, silently weaves its threads around your every move. From the moment you installed it, it became his watchful eye, tracking your every step, monitoring your every move.
How naive and compliant you are, unknowingly making it easier for him to watch over you. 
He doesn’t react much when a guy approaches you, no one will be brave enough, because you will always stay glued to his side. He often uses his sharp tongue to highlight their flaws and insecurities. Give them a judgmental stare at the guy as if he was nothing and brings nothing good in life like a mosquito.
Resorting to violence or criminal acts were never his first choice to get rid of those pesky nuisances, his jealousy always remains hidden and possibly close to nonexistent.
Because he knows, you will always comes running back to him. Even if you manage to slip from his grasp, he holds the power to reclaim you, by any means necessary. In dire circumstances, he does not hesitate to resort to violence, to eliminate anyone who dares to steal you away. He doesn't care if he has to hurt you or isolate you, nobody could ever love you like he did. 
Once you are married and start a family together, your life will be forever intertwined with his. That's the end of you or maybe a better version of you that you never envisioned or hoped for, nevertheless it was all because of your love for Zayne that you willingly let him take control, it’s the best life you could ever live in, right?
You will never leave out of his sight forever.
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© 2024 mitfloya — all rights reserved. kindly refrain from altering, translating, or repost my works on any platform without my consent, do not claim my content as yours.
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helloalycia · 3 years
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my patient’s neighbour [two] // wanda maximoff
summary: as you spend more time with your patient's neighbour, you come to realise that your crush may be getting too much
warning/s: none, just fluff tbh
author's note: i’m so glad you guys enjoyed the first part! here’s the next bit :)
part one | part three | part four | part five | part six | part seven | masterlist | wattpad
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When Sunday rolled around, I did everything in my power to make it the perfect day for Anna. We went out for breakfast at a café around the corner, a stroll around the park, then I made her lunch before she conked out afterwards, napping in her bedroom. I took that as my chance to decorate the living-area with birthday decorations. Nothing too much as I knew she'd kill me if I went overboard, but little things like a banner, some balloons and streamers.
I told Wanda to come at this time, too, and she showed up with a bag of groceries and a pretty smile on her face.
"Here, let me help," I said, already moving to take the bag off her. "How are you?"
"I'm good," she said, closing the door behind her and following me into the kitchen. Her smile widened when she saw the decorations. "Y/N, this is lovely! Anna is going to love it!"
"You think?" I asked, spinning around and doing a once over of the living-area. "It's not too much? I know she'll hate if I do too much."
"It's just the right amount," Wanda reassured, glancing at me. "How has she been today?"
We both began to unpack the groceries as we talked.
"Really good actually," I said with a nod. "I treated her to breakfast at that café she likes. We went to the park, fed the ducks, had a nice stroll. Then I made her some lunch and she's napping which leaves us the perfect time to crack on with dinner."
Wanda chuckled. "Great." She paused, making me look to her to see her smile fading. Nervously, she asked, "Did her granddaughter call?"
I sighed quietly and Wanda seemed to know what that meant without me saying anything further. 
"It's okay, we'll just have to make this the best meal ever," she said, not letting it get to her.
"We will," I agreed, before looking to the food on the table. "So, chef. Where do we start?"
Wanda and I spent the next hour prepping dinner, a beef stew called Solyanka, as it would require two hours to cook on the stove so we were starting early to make sure it would be ready in time.
I was chopping some onions as she prepared the beef, but I couldn't help myself from glancing at her every two seconds, still filled with concern because of her cast and minor injuries.
"You should take a picture, it'll last longer," she said teasingly, making me look up to see her watching me with a stifled smile.
"Sorry," I mumbled, shaking my head and looking back to my chopping board.
"What's wrong?" she asked gently.
I chewed on my lip as I glanced at her wrist again, before meeting her gaze. "How did it happen?"
"I already told you," she reminded me playfully, trying to lighten the mood, but I was still fretful. "It happened on a mission."
"Yeah, but how?" I asked again, hoping she understood what I meant.
She seemed reluctant to share, face scrunching up with thought, before looking down to her own chopping board. I thought she wouldn't tell me, but then she spoke.
"I can't tell you too much," she started, shrugging, "since it was a confidential mission. But basically, I was undercover when my target recognised me and we got into a fight."
Watching her with the utmost attention, I nodded, imagining it in my head.
"It wasn't difficult or anything, but it surprised me, y'know?" She looked to me with a smile, as if trying to make it sound less scarier than it was. "The guy, the target, he managed to get in few good hits. And he sprained my wrist. But it's alright."
I wasn't as amused as she was, wincing at the thought of her being in a fight. "Are you sure you're alright?"
She tilted her head knowingly. "I'm sure, Y/N. It's my job."
Shaking my head, I looked back down to my chopping board and continued chopping the onion. "I don't know how you can do that as a job..."
"Well, it's rewarding," she said like it was obvious. "Why do you spend most of your week caring for the elderly?"
"It's rewarding," I said without hesitation, before realising what she'd done and looking her way.
She was smiling cockily, making me roll my eyes and laugh.
"Okay, I see your point," I gave in. "But still. It's a dangerous job what you do. Just be careful, yeah?"
"Always am," she promised. And I wanted to believe her, but the cast on her wrist said otherwise.
"It smells like home, devochki, spasibo (girls, thank you)," Anna said from her place at the table. "Are you sure you don't want me to help?"
"We're sure, Anna," Wanda called back to her. "I'm just putting the food into a serving bowl and Y/N is grabbing some glasses. You sit and wait like the patient woman I know you are."
Anna mumbled something in Russian which I didn't understand, but it seemed to make Wanda chuckle as she rolled her eyes.
It was finally time for dinner and the stew had turned out beautifully, not that I had doubts since Wanda didn't seem like one to kid around with cooking.
As she was readying it for the table, I was setting everything up and all that was left were the glasses. But, of course (and oddly enough, since Anna was shorter than I), they were stored on the top shelf of the kitchen cupboard and just out of my reach.
In hindsight, I probably could have grabbed a stool and stood on it, but I was too lazy, so I went on my tip-toes and stretched with all my might. The tips of my fingers brushed against a glass and I attempted to move it towards me, unable to see if I was actually doing anything since it was too high. After a couple of tries, I managed to bring it forward, but my stupid self flicked it too hard and it came tumbling off the shelf and towards the counter.
I braced myself for the sound of glass smashing, but instead, a wondrous red energy wrapped itself around the glass and kept it suspended mid-fall.
"Very clever," Wanda said sarcastically, appearing directly beside me. Her accent was daringly teasing.
I looked up and saw her smirking at me with amusement, right hand raised and aimed at the glass. Red tendrils of energy glowed around her hand and the glass; I widened my eyes a little, amazed at how easy she made it look. Though I knew she had powers, I'd never actually seen her use them up close and personal. It was stunning.
"I totally knew you were going to do that," I played it cool, cheeks flushing as she set the glass on the counter.
"Mhm, sure you did," she played along with a melodious laugh, before pressing her front to my back without warning and reaching to grab two more glasses. "Here, I got it."
My body tensed at the feeling of her unexpectedly so close to me. My mouth went dry, her warmth emanating from her and washing over me with the scent of her perfume. Did she always smell so good?
When she grabbed all three glasses, she didn't seem to notice the effect she had on me (unless she did and kept quiet for her own amusement).
"Think you can grab the food without dropping it?" she asked, quirking an entertained brow.
Still distracted by her perfume, I nodded and cleared my throat. "Food. Right. Yeah."
As I stirred the stew to mix everything thoroughly, I felt my heart rate return to its normal pace and told myself to chill out. Wanda just happened to be an extremely pretty individual who was kind and thoughtful and funny. It wasn't a big deal.
When I was sure I wouldn't make a fool of myself, I returned to the dining table with a pot of stew and set it down on the placemat.
"Priyatnogo appetita (enjoy your meal)," I said, trying not to stumble over my pronunciation. 
Both Anna and Wanda raised their brows with matching surprised smiles on their faces.
"You said that perfectly, Y/N!" Wanda said encouragingly, as I took a seat to the right of Anna at the head of the table.
"I see you've been practicing," Anna added, looking to me with an endearing gaze. "A present in itself. Thank you, milaya (sweetie)."
I smiled bashfully. "I have to keep up with you both somehow, right?"
Anna chuckled as Wanda gave me a brilliant smile. Something in my chest stirred as she did, and I was forced to look away, though my own smile didn't fade.
"So, Y/N and I put this together for you and I'm sure you'll know what it is," Wanda said, before serving up a bowl for Anna.
"Solyanka," Anna exclaimed with delight. "Devushki (girls), this looks and smells amazing." She paused, glancing between us both with a grateful smile. "Since you've both been here, this place... it's beginning to feel alive again."
To my surprise, she teared up and began to laugh, using her napkin to pat the corner of her eyes. I rested my hand on hers, squeezing it gently and giving her a small smile.
"I appreciate this very much," she continued, before squeezing my hand and letting go to grab her spoon. "I can't wait to try it."
The three of us dug into our stew and Anna loved it, talking about the first time she ever had it as a kid and how it was one of her favourite dishes. The rest of the meal went by wonderfully, with Anna looking as happy as ever and Wanda listening to her intently. I was listening, too, but my gaze did end up wandering to Wanda as she sat there animatedly, nodding along and smiling to Anna.
For some reason, she was ethereal tonight, though she looked like she always did. Her long brown hair was tied up in a ponytail and she wore a loose tee shirt over some jeans. Nothing fancy, but she pulled it off so well. Rings adorned her fingers as she played with them thoughtlessly, and it caught my eye before I got distracted by her cast on her left wrist.
She'd said she was okay, but it still worried me. It wasn't my right to worry, but she was my friend. I was concerned. She could take care of herself, but that wouldn't put the ache in my heart at ease.
As if she could hear my concerns, her eyes flickered to mine, a kaleidoscope of blue, green and gold. She sent me a reassuring glance before looking back to Anna with focus. I chewed on my lower lip, trying not to let my worry get the best of me, before looking back to Anna.
Towards the end of the meal, after we'd eaten and were merely conversing, Anna's landline rang in the apartment.
"I'll get it," Wanda said, already standing up to grab the phone from its cradle.
Anna and I watched as she answered the phone with a friendly 'hello', before a surprised expression appeared on her face.
"Sure, I'll pass it on now," Wanda was saying before approaching the table and stopping by Anna. Her expression softened as she said to Anna, "It's Sasha."
Anna's expression fell at the mention of her granddaughter. She nodded slightly, before standing up and grabbing her cane to balance. Accepting the phone, she began to walk away into her bedroom. Wanda and I heard her say a faint 'hello' before she closed the door behind her.
"Her granddaughter rang?" I asked with mild disbelief.
"It is her birthday," Wanda pointed out, returning to her seat.
"Bit late into the day though, isn't it?" I retorted, pulling a face. "Almost like the day is over, in fact."
"Sounding a little judgemental there, Y/N," Wanda teased, leaning forward into the palm of her hands and watching me.
"I'm not," I said with an eye roll. "I just think she should show her grandmother some respect. Who does she think she is?"
I paused as Wanda gave me a knowing look, then winced.
"Okay, I heard it that time," I admitted, making her laugh.
"I get it," she said, nodding slightly. "Maybe she's finally starting to realise though."
I sighed, leaning back in my seat. "I guess... For Anna's sake, I hope so."
Wanda and I talked amongst ourselves until Anna returned silently, hushing our conversation. She returned the phone to its cradle before taking a seat at the head of the table. Wanda and I exchanged looks before I decided to speak, noticing Anna wouldn't.
"Is Sasha doing okay?" I asked gently.
Anna was staring ahead, barely listening, before she glanced at me then looked down to her empty bowl. Sentences left her lips in Russian, mumbled and incoherent, at least to me. Wanda leaned forward, holding her hand and frowning with sympathy as she listened to her words. I felt horrible, sensing something was wrong, but unable to do anything to help.
"I'm sorry, Anna, I didn't mean to upset you," I said, shaking my head.
Wanda met my gaze. "It's not your fault... Anna just misses Sasha."
I frowned. "Oh."
"But I'm glad I have you both," Anna finally spoke, accent thick with emotion, as she looked between us before settling her eyes to me. "Even if you're paid to be here."
She cracked a smile, making my shoulders relax. I returned her expression, glad she still had a sense of humour.
Anna didn't mention Sasha's name for the rest of the evening. We cleaned up, had some tea, played a quick board game before I made sure she was okay for the night.
"She alright?" Wanda asked when I closed Anna's bedroom door and stepped into the hall.
"Yeah, she's tired from all of today's excitement," I said with a smile.
"So are you by the sounds of it," she joked, but stepped forward to rest a hand on my arm. "I think we should call it a night."
"I think we should," I said in agreement.
After grabbing my stuff, Wanda and I left the flat before walking to her apartment and stopping outside.
"Thanks for helping me out today," I told her with a tired smile. "I really appreciated it."
"Well, you asked so nicely... how could I resist?" she said, staring up at me through her eyelashes. I rolled my eyes playfully, making her smile. "I had fun. Thanks for inviting me."
I was going to respond, but a yawn escaped my lips, prompting me to cover my mouth as I did.
"Sorry," I said, trying to blink the fatigue away momentarily.
She chuckled, tilting her head and watching me carefully. "You're cute."
I breathed out through my nose, unsure what to say to her words, but I definitely felt my heart rate speed up a little.
"I'll let you go," she said, clearly entertained by my silence. "Get home safe, yeah?"
"And you look after yourself when saving the world, yeah?" I replied with a quirked brow, eyes glancing at her wrist.
"I promise." She grinned before moving forward to hug me.
I returned the hug, the smell of her perfume permanent in my nose by now, before pulling away with a final smile. Of course, I probably shouldn't have stared at her lips so intensely, wanting nothing more than to kiss them.
"See you tomorrow," I said, snapping back into reality and taking a step back. "Goodnight, Wanda."
"Goodnight," she said sweetly.
I turned to leave and was suddenly wide awake. Did I just think about kissing Wanda?
It was a few visits later when I was caring for Anna and she decided to have a dance around the living room. One minute we were flicking through different radio stations, and the next she was putting on some old records on her record player. She settled on an upbeat, 50s dance song, the music filling the apartment with joy.
"Egor and I danced to this very song when we first met," she told me, talking about her late husband with a twinkling passion in her eyes. "It was a party and he had been staring at me all night, and I him. Then finally, when this song came on, he approached me and said, 'dorogaya, okazyvayesh' mne chest' tantsevat' so mnoy?'"
I suppressed a smile as I watched her reminisce. "And that means...?"
"'Darling, would you do me the honour of dancing with me'?" she repeated in English for my benefit.
My heart melted. "Anna, that's adorable. He sounds like such a gentlemen."
"He was," she said with a sigh of agreement, smiling to herself.
Whenever she talked about her husband, I'd never seen her look more content. The mere mention of his name was enough to put a smile on her face. I could only hope to have a love like theirs some day.
I stepped forward, putting out my hand. "I'm no Egor, but I'd love to dance with you if you'd let me."
"Oh, I can't do that," she said, waving my hand away. "I can barely walk, milaya (sweetie)."
"Hey, as your carer, I am insisting that you dance with me," I said, feigning sternness.
She hesitated, before resting her hand in mine and smiling with gratitude. The two of us danced together, myself being careful to keep her upright and make sure she didn't overexert herself. She was smiling and laughing as I spun her around, dancing her all around the living room, and it warmed my heart to see her so cheery.
A knock on the door caused me to excuse myself from Anna, only to find Wanda on the other end.
"Someone's in a good mood," she said instantly, taking note of my smile.
I stepped to the side to let her in. "Yeah, well, Anna is doing good today. It's contagious, what can I say?"
Before Wanda could respond, Anna called from the living-area with excitement.
"Wanda, idi syuda i potantsuy so mnoy!" she exclaimed, already grabbing Wanda's hand and pulling her in.
It didn't take a genius to know that Anna had basically asked Wanda to dance with her. I chuckled as I followed after them, enjoying the sight of Anna and Wanda dancing together.
"What's the occasion?" Wanda asked, glancing over the short woman and to me with a helpless smile.
"No occasion," I quipped, crossing my arms and trying to hold in my laughter at Anna's speed and perseverance with a reluctant Wanda. "Just having a good time."
Wanda looked like she wanted to retort with a comment, but Anna spun her around before she could, making me laugh aloud.
"Prikhodi odin, milaya (come on, sweetie)!" Anna said, holding out a hand. "Dance!"
Unable to resist, I joined in with the two Sokovian women, appreciating how happy Anna looked and how awkward Wanda felt in the situation. She wasn't much of a dancer, but she was trying and God was that adorable.
We danced for a little while longer until Anna's back began to hurt and she took a seat. Though, she insisted that Wanda and I resume with our dancing.
Just on time, like a sign from the universe or a higher being or whatever you wanted to believe in, a slow song came on next, filling the apartment soothingly.
To my surprise, the awkward dancer that was Wanda was oddly confident as she held out her hand to me.
"Would you do me the honour of dancing with me?" she asked softly, a small smile playing on her lips.
At the familiarity of her words, I glanced to Anna, who seemed to pick up on it, too. She said nothing as she watched us with a smile of her own.
"I'd love to," I said, looking back to Wanda's eyes.
They looked blue in the light, a beautiful sky blue that put me at ease as soon as I stared into them. I slipped my hand into hers, letting her pull us closer together as she rested her other hand on my waist, the touch sending shivers up my spine. I put mine on her shoulder, allowing her to take the lead.
It was the most intimate we'd been, and as she maintained eye contact, I wondered if she could feel my hands trembling slightly, or my heart hammering loudly, or my palms turning a little sweaty. She made me nervous in the best way possible, her smile dazzling without realising and her eyes piercing without meaning to be.
She must have felt it, too, that tug in the pit of her stomach that I was feeling now. Otherwise there was something seriously wrong and I was already too deep into a crush on my patient's neighbour.
When the song ended, it feeling like mere seconds in total, she let go of me and I missed the contact and the smell of her perfume and the way she was looking at me.
"Couldn't have done it better myself," Anna spoke, forcing me to tear my gaze from Wanda's lips. She smiled at me knowingly. "You ladies definitely know how to dance."
I felt a heat creeping up my neck as I smiled to myself, distracting myself with the laces on my shoes. When I finally brought myself to look up, I saw Wanda already looking my way, a calm expression on her face.
As she did most times she visited, Wanda stayed with me and Anna until I tucked Anna into bed and bid her a goodnight. We left the apartment and Wanda decided to walk me to the lift that evening, a distracted look on her face.
It was silent between us, a comfortable one, until the doors slid open and I looked to her with kind eyes.
"I guess I'll see you tomorrow," I told her, making her look to me. "Have a nice evening, Wanda."
She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. I watched with amusement, wondering what was going on in that pretty head of hers. The lift doors began to shut, so I put my foot between them to keep them open.
"I should go," I said with an awkward laugh, before grabbing her hand and squeezing it gently since she wouldn't speak. "Goodnight."
When I turned to leave, I got, maybe, a step into the lift before I felt her fingers wrap around my wrist and tug me backwards, spinning me around. I didn't get chance to ask what was up as she stepped forward, pressing her lips to mine in an instant.
Startled, I froze at the contact, but then her hand rested on the back of my neck as her thumb caressed my jaw, and I found myself melting into her, closing my eyes at the blissful feeling.
Her other hand fell to my waist as she deepened the kiss, sending me into the lift and the wall hitting my back. I moved my lips in time with hers, revelling at how soft and delicate and gentle she was being. Kissing Wanda Maximoff wasn't something I had realised would be this good, but now that I was, I never wanted to stop.
Unfortunately, the sound of the lift doors shutting pulled us apart. I was breathless, my heart racing and my lips swollen from her spectacular kiss.
"I've wanted to do that for such a long time," she revealed, stepping back a little. Her eyes were bright and her cheeks were flushed as she watched me with mild concern. "I completely should have asked though. I'm sorry that I overstepped."
She pursed her lips, forefinger and thumb pinching her bottom lip regretfully and gaze falling to the floor.
"You didn't overstep," I said, already missing the sensation of her lips against mine. "You stepped just the right amount."
She looked back up, eyes softening as her lips curved into a radiant smile.
"You wanna, maybe, do that again?" I asked without thinking, my mind a haze as Wanda still remained so close to me.
She laughed melodiously before raising her hand and cupping my cheek. Her eyes looked between mine before falling to my lips affectionately.
"I'd love to, dorogoy (darling)."
I smiled toothlessly before closing the gap between us, secretly wishing this lift ride would go on forever if it meant I could kiss Wanda like this.
After making out with Wanda in the lift, she asked me out on a date and it was the best date I'd ever been on. Nothing over the top but very thoughtful as she took me for a picnic in the park before getting ice cream for dessert.
We went on a few more dates after that, taking turns to take the lead with them, and she ended up asking me to be her girlfriend which of course I said yes to.
All whilst this was going on, I still cared for Anna and Wanda paid her visits when she could, though we tried to remain as normal as possible. We didn't think it was best to tell Anna that we were together since we didn't want to startle her or make her feel uncomfortable in our presence. Of course, keeping a secret from Anna is as good as nothing when she had eyes like a hawk.
Wanda and I were putting a plate of tea and biscuits together for Anna one day, myself lining up the biscuits neatly as Wanda lingered beside me. She was about to grab a biscuit from the plate when I smacked her hand away.
"Just one," she pleaded, but I shook my head before nodding to the packet on the side.
"Help yourself to those," I told her condescendingly. "These are for Anna."
"Just get her another," she said simply, before reaching over again.
I smacked her hand away again, giving her a knowing look.
"Y/N!"
"Wanda!" I mirrored her childish smile.
She narrowed her eyes petulantly. "Are you seriously doing this right now?"
"Are you?" I asked, raising my eyebrows.
She pouted and I so badly wanted to lean forward and kiss it away, but Anna was sat on her recliner behind us. Wanda seemed to know this as a mischievous smile fell on her lips, eyes watching me carefully.
"You're not cute," I mumbled, before grabbing the tray and turning to leave. As I was walking to Anna, a biscuit began to float off the plate, red wisps of energy wrapped around it and bringing it to– "Wanda!"
She laughed, eyes glowing red with magic, before grabbing the biscuit from mid-air and taking a bite.
"Such a child," I said under my breath before setting the tray on the coffee table before Anna. Smiling at her, I said, "Here you go, Anna. Do you want anything else?"
As I straightened up, flipping Wanda off behind my back and encouraging her laughter further, I noticed the way Anna looked between us both curiously.
"Everything okay?" I asked, eyebrows knitting together as she continued to study us both.
"Something happened," she decided. "Between you both."
"What do you mean?" I asked, taking a seat on the couch. "Nothing happened."
"Something definitely did," she said knowingly. "I may be old, milaya (sweetie), but I have very good eyes."
"Anna, what are you talking about?" Wanda played dumb, taking a seat beside me, biscuit in hand.
"Don't think I haven't seen the way you two steal glances when you think I'm not looking," she said, pointing between us. "Or the way you," her finger settled on Wanda, "have been helping Y/N out more often than usual."
Wanda and I flushed, embarrassed that we'd been caught out. I was so certain that we'd successfully hid it from her, but clearly we were mistaken.
"We wanted to tell you," Wanda began, cheeks still pink as she leaned forward.
Anna silenced her with a wave of her hand. "Save it. I knew I was right. You two are together."
Pursing my lips, I waited for her to say something because I wasn't really sure what to say myself. Suddenly, a smile appeared on her lips.
"I'm very happy for you both," she said to us. "Wanda here always needed somebody in her life who wasn't me. And you, Y/N, are the perfect match for her."
I chuckled, looking to the girl in question, whose face was as red as her powers that she used to torment me with. I grabbed her hand, squeezing it gently, and nudged her in the shoulder.
"You hear that? Perfect match," I teased, making her roll her eyes to distract from her flustered self.
Anna said something to her in Russian, way too fast and incomprehensible for me to understand, even with the extra effort I was making to learn it. Whatever it was, it made Wanda get even more embarrassed, her green eyes darting around the room in an effort to overcome it.
"What did you say?" I asked Anna with amusement.
"Oh, nothing Wanda hasn't heard before," she said dismissively. "It's all okay. Isn't it, Wanda?"
"Yeah," Wanda mumbled.
"I don't know what's happening here, but I'm all for someone putting Wanda in her place," I said, looking between them both with an entertained smile.
Anna chuckled as Wanda shoved me in the arm gently before pulling me close again. I smiled at how cute she looked, pink blush creeping up her neck and teeth chewing on her lower lip to contain her smile.
I'd never get sick of the sight.
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imaginepirates · 4 years
Text
Pirate
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For the anon who wanted a James x reader where they meet on the Pearl, but James doesn’t have the guts to admit that he’s falling for them. Later, (we’re pretending his death didn’t happen), they meet again at Shipwreck Cove, and James confesses his feelings during the battle on the Dutchman.
@emdrabbles​ @tesserphantom​ @paljonkaikenlaista​ @viper-official​  @hellspawn-brownies​ @groovyfluxie​ @wordsinwinters​
~3760 words. Long again. 
~~~~~~~
           His hair hung in wet strings around his face. Whether they were matted together with water, alcohol, or vomit, you weren’t sure you wanted to know, though you suspected it to be a mixture of all three. A guard rail was all that kept him upright. He was a disaster, even for a pirate. Not that he’s a pirate, either.
          The former Commodore looked a wreck. You would be, too, you supposed, if you’d drunk yourself into complete oblivion. And someone needs to take away that damned wig. Currently, it sat on his head much like some bird’s nest, and you half-expected a gull to land in it at any moment. Pity mingled with your disgust. There had been a time when his name alone had struck fear into you. Now, he was a pathetic image, unable to do so much as hold himself up on two feet. He couldn’t strike fear into a fly.
          You were a bit surprised that Elizabeth, of all people, showed him no sympathy. Even Jack looked a bit repulsed, which was saying something, given that Jack himself was never in a prime state. He staggered upright, puking over the side of a railing.
          You sighed, walking brisky over, snatching the wig off the top of his head and tossing it overboard. He looked up at you through bleary eyes.
          “What the bloody hell was that for?”
          “You look awful.”
          “Thank you for your astute assessment.” Even drunk, his tone dripped sarcasm, and you were a little surprised.
          He’s still in his wits, then. You looked him over again. Somewhat. “You look marginally less awful without the wig.” He grunted. You grabbed the bottle he was holding, too, and threw it over the side.
          “Now that’s just a waste.”
          “You need to sober up.”
          “And who exactly are you, that it’s your job to police me?”
          “You’re embarrassing, is all, and it’s no good to be embarrassed by crewmates.”
          He snorted. “You should write to the admiralty. That sort of thinking would have spared me many of my own crewmates throughout the years.” He stared down into the waves, where his water-clogged wig had begun to sink under the surface.
          “Well, you don’t want to be that person, do you?”
          “At this point, I don’t particularly care.” His wig finally lost the battle, disappearing into the murky depths.
          “Have some pride.”
          “Pride?” He pushed himself up, looking coldly into your eyes with his own. “I’ve lost my title, I’ve lost my station, I’ve lost my livelihood. I have no house, nor family, nor friends. I’ve lost everything I ever held dear, including the woman I love, because despite being with her,” here he gestured with his chin to where Elizabeth stood at the helm, “I’m further from her than ever before. Now please, tell me again why I should have pride.”
          If you were being honest with yourself, it was hard to give him an answer. “You still have your life, and for however little that’s worth right now, things could be worse. You could be dead. Take pride in the fact that you didn’t let things get that far.” He scoffed, but you continued. “Go clean yourself up; splash some water on your face, and do something about the vomit in your hair. Things can get better. Clean up, and you’ll be one step closer.”
          He looked at you then, a vulnerability in his eye that wasn’t there before. Hope. He stalked off then, stumbling a bit, but trying admirably to, supposedly, follow your advice.
          Norrington carried out his tasks admirably and without complaint, no manner how demeaning for a man of his previous station. He was watched with suspicious eye; but why wouldn’t he be? He had been a ranking officer, after all, and an effective one at that. Too many pirates had been lost to his scouring of the Caribbean. Just how far can you trust a member of the navy, former or otherwise?
          The way he looked at Jack’s compass didn’t escape your notice. He knows. “Not thinking of stealing it, are you?” His neck craned to look up at you from his position kneeling on the deck, a wet cloth in hand. He stopped his scrubbing to glare.
          “I’m not a thief.” He looked back down, returning to his task.
          “You are a pirate.”
          His head whipped up at that, jaw working in annoyance. “I’m not a bloody pirate,” he hissed.
          “Then what the hell are you doing here? Top secret mission? I’m surprised you were chosen; I wouldn’t believe your fall from grace if I weren’t here to see it myself.”
          Norrington was showing clear restraint, obviously wanting to hit you with something. You watched him breifly consider using the wash-rag as a projectile before deciding against it.
          “Commodore Norrington. That was a name to fear, once.”
          The ferocity in his eyes vanished, replaced by sadness, his gaze dropping from yours. “I haven’t been that man in months. I never will be again.”
          “Good.” He shot you a questioning look. “It’s no use to be afraid of you. And, if what I hear from Elizabeth is true, you might learn to have some fun and not be so stiff all the time.” Offence flashes across his face, but you only smiled. “I blame high society. Welcome to freedom, James Norrington. I hope you get a taste for it.”
          He turned to look out over the steadily changing horizon, a soft pink beginning to dust the sky. “So do I.”
          The days wore on, and the crew steadily adjusted to James’ presence. He no longer ate alone, though he ate in silence, and the crew was more willing to interact with him. Elizabeth, you noted, had barely paid him any mind since his arrival. How she could be so callous towards him you didn’t know; you had expected her to at least talk to him, but she barely even looked his way.
          Not that he didn’t look hers. His gaze would fall upon her, sometimes, while he worked, and there was a sadness there that tugged at your heart. He was confused, too, as to her treatment of him. He wanted, more than anything, to be close to her. Even if she could treat him like a friend. But she refused to give him even that much.
          You were tired of watching it. “Come on,” you walked up to him, “let’s do something about that hair.”
          “You haven’t grown tired of telling me what to do, have you?” he drawled. He was propped against a railing, eyes following Elizabeth as she walked across the deck above them. With Jack, you noted. So, it seemed, did James.
          You sighed. “It can only get in the way, hanging down by your face like that.” You turned away, heading down belowdecks. He needs to get away from watching her.
          James followed, pushing off the railing and heading after you. Good. You found a spot with a few barrels—full of apples, you assumed; you never had gotten rid of all of Barbossa’s cargo—that would be suitable for sitting on. You motioned for James to do just that, moving behind him.
          You found yourself at a loss for words. What was there to say? You had little in common, and less that wouldn’t bring back poor memories for him. You kept silent, instead running your fingers through James’ hair. It’s longer than I expected, for a naval man. I wonder if he always kept it like this, or if it was close-cropped, once.
          “What exactly are you doing?” He turned his head a little to look back at you.
          “Braiding.” You separated his hair into three parts, beginning to twine the strands together.
          You expected him to ask you why, or to move away, but he stayed put. “I haven’t worn my hair in a braid since the navy.” It was almost a whisper. Somehow, in the low light of the hull, it seemed appropriate.
          You almost pulled away and apologized, but he went on. “I used to braid it to fit it under that damned wig. It could get so insufferably hot in the sun, though I was always glad to have the hair off the back of my neck. I don’t know how Elizabeth ever managed, in those dresses.” A soft smile sat on his face. “How did any of us manage, back then?”
          You knew he wasn’t speaking of the heat. You tied his hair off with a small strip of ribbon from around your wrist. It was interesting, to see something of yours on him, and you stared at it a moment before moving. “You’ve always kept your hair this long, then?” You moved to a barrel across from him.
          “For years. My mother hated it.” He smiled. “She told me it would be easier if I just cut it off.”
          “Good thing you didn’t.” He looked at you curiously, and you felt yourself beginning to flush. “It suits you.”
          His eyebrows raised in surprise. Even in the dim light of the lanterns, you could see his cheeks turn pink, the color extending down into his collar. You sat in awkward silence a moment, James fiddling with the cuffs of his sleeves while you looked down at the black deck. “A name to fear, you said.”
          James was still toying with the cuff on his left wrist when you looked back up. “I think I like you this way better.”
          “I’m not sure I do.”
          You got up, moving to a barrel next to his. “I’d rather not fear you.” You grabbed his hand, taking it gently away from its fiddling. He scanned your eyes. “Like most people, you aren’t as terrifying as the stories make you sound.”
          “I never thought of it that way.”
          “That you struck fear, even into the best of us?”
          “I…” he trailed off. “It seems so ridiculous, that anyone feared me. I know I was good at my job—it was all I was good for.” He scoffed. “But I was so out of place in society…I always felt horribly awkward at all those social events. I was much more afraid of those people than they were of me.”
          “You were like…” you wracked your brain for a parallel. “You were told stories about Blackbeard when you were a child, right?”
          “Yes, of course. Upon reflection, I’m sure they were too dramatic to be true.”
          “That’s how you were to us. You were a reverse Blackbeard.” James laughed aloud at that. “I can’t even tell you how I pictured you. Larger, maybe. Older. And with a horrible, mean beard that took up half your face.”
          James smiled, and you found you quite liked the expression on him. “Am I as scary as the stories?”
          “Not even close. Though I’m sure I wouldn’t want to meet the business end of your sword,” you added.
          “Is Blackbeard as frightening as the tales?” James questioned. Then, more seriously, “Is Davy Jones?”
          You sobered. “Aye, he is.” You found that his hand was still in yours—he hadn’t pulled away. “But it’s mixed with disgust. He isn’t human, anymore. It can be revulting. And sad,” you said, upon reflection. “I can’t imagine; losing your humanity like that.”
          James said nothing, his eyes on your entertwined fingers. He ran his thumb over your knuckles. “Why do you talk to me?”
          You shrugged. “There’s no reason not to.”
          “That doesn’t seem to be the common belief.” He continued to rub gentle circles in the top of your hand. His fingers were calloused from years of hard work, but so were yours. He traced over your knuckles and each finger in turn. His brows furrowed. “It’s pity, isn’t it?”
          You could see how disgusted he was with himself. “Some, yes,” you admitted. “But you’re not half-bad to be around. This was…nice. I haven’t had a quiet moment with someone in ages.”
          He looked at you thoughtfully, using his free hand to brush a strand of hair behind your ear. “You’re not half-bad either, for a pirate.”
          You smiled, and he looked like he might say something more, but he stayed quiet, a soft smile of his own gracing his features. When he left, you knew he was in a better mood than when he came. I wonder if I’ll occupy any of the space in his thoughts that Elizabeth does. It was a silly thought, and you didn’t quite know why it came to mind, but there was a ghostly touch where James had brushed your hair aside, and you realized that you liked the idea of his thinking about you. Wishing for the attention of a naval man. Who would’ve thought?
~~~~~~~
          The news about Isla de Muerta came hard. You had been anxious the entire time, confined to the Pearl on the account that Davy Jones could make an appearance, and the ship would need to be crewed if he did.
          You weren’t prepared for the eventuality that James wouldn’t come back. You had worried, of course, wringing your hands with it, but you hadn’t actually thought…
          You kept your tears for him to yourself. Nobody else was bothered—not even Elizabeth. A man she’s known her entire life, dead, and she has no sorrow to show for it. How can she be so heartless? It was as if nothing had happened at all. The crew ignored it; they were used to that, you supposed. Half your number had been killed by cannibles, after all. But even Gibbs seemed unbothered by the prospect of James’ death.
          Only later did you realize that James had taken the heart. You didn’t believe it, at first, but slowly came to reconcile yourself with the idea. Elizabeth thought him a traitor. But was he ever really on our side? You thought back to your conversations with him. I like you this way better. It had been true. I’m not sure I do. That was true, too, and now he’d shown it.
          At first, none of it mattered to you. He was dead, anyway. Slowly, you began to realize that Jones didn’t have the heart. After all, he hadn’t quit pursuing the Pearl, even if you didn’t have the heart. When you learned that the heart was in possession of Cutler Beckett, damn his eyes, your heart leapt with joy. James is alive! No matter the mood of Jack, or Gibbs, or Elizabeth, or the crew, you could only think of James. He wasn’t killed, then. He used the heart as leverage to secure his old position.
          You pondered the thought. If ever you met him again, would you be afraid? Or would you just be sad?
~~~~~~~
          Shipwreck Cove was just as you’d remembered it. Dimly lit, ships stacked one on the other, whispered conspiracies in every corner. Every sailor’s legend had its place in these ships. There wasn’t a legend that hadn’t been speculated within the fortress, and not a pirate who hadn’t chased them without.
          You had fond memories of the Cove, but less fond memories of the Court. The Brethren Court convened on only the deepest of issues, and you still remembered some of their gatherings from when you were a child. It was loud, and there was no order, and the Court couldn’t meet without at least one death per session.
          It was that way now. Jack toyed with the swords stuck in the globe at the front of the room while the other pirate lords surrendered the miscellaneous junk they deemed their pieces of eight. The end result was a dish full of random trinkets. Not that you didn’t understand; the idea that pirates obtained mass amounts of wealth was a myth. Most of the time, you barely had a shilling to your name. Working with Jack was especially non-lucrative, but it was certainly more entertaining.
          Jack’s hand strayed briefly to the piece of eight at his temple. “Might I point out that we are still short one pirate lord and I’m as content as a cucumber to wait until Sao Feng joins us.”
          “Sao Feng is dead.”
          You recognized that voice. You whipped around to see Elizabeth, clad in full Chinese armor, sword in hand. You smiled to yourself; she was always full of surprises.
          The best surprise, however, was the man standing at her side. You mouthed James’ name, and his eyes locked on yours. He stepped forward, as if to greet you, but you were interrupted by further discussion of the Court. He’s alive, and he’s here, and I never thought I would see him again. You glanced over your shoulder. And he’s in full uniform.
          The Court was chaos. Barbossa’s plan to free Calypso was not taken well by the others, and you couldn’t blame them. Your mind was preoccupied, focussing on the man somewhere behind you. You wondered if he had seen the relief in your eyes. Had he felt the same?
          A hand settled on your shoulder. You turned to see James, worried eyes staring into your own. He pulled you back, leading you out of the room.
          “James?” You felt your eyes beginning to water. “For the longest time, I thought you had died.” Your voice cracked, and you were unable to stop it.
          He opened his mouth as if to say something, but only reached out to you, pulling you into a firm embrace. “I’m so sorry.” His breath tickled your ear. “I’ve done horrible things.”
          You held tightly to the back of his coat. “I’m just happy to see you again.”
          He stepped back, pain blossoming across his features. “I know you can never forgive me, for what I’ve done. I can only hope you-”
          The doors behind you opened, and the Court flooded out. The consensus is war, then.
~~~~~~~
          The rain made it hard for you to keep a good grip on your sword. The Dutchman pitched and rolled under your feet, waves crashing rougly into the sides of the hull. Its mast, tangled with the Pearl’s, loomed above you, a towering dark figure in the haze of the monsoon.
          These damned fish people. The Dutchman’s crew fought more viscously than even Barbossa’s undead pirates. Who knew starfish could be so angry? You feared that their weapons, often tarnished and jagged, would catch on your own and leave you defenseless. I should’ve stayed on the Pearl. But there are fish people there now, too.
          At least you weren’t alone. Elizabeth and Will were with you, as was Jack, though he seemed to be having difficulties of his own. If you hadn’t been fighting for your life, you might have been more amused. You had lost sight of most of your crew mates. You were too focused on the eel-headed freak in front of you to give your fellows much thought. With your swords locked, you had no other way to grapple with the beast. It hadn’t occurred to you that the eel could elongate its neck, which was exactly what it did, arching forward to bite at your face.
          A moment later, the head lay at your feet, the slimy body collapsing beside it. James was there, sword in hand, looking at you with concern. That, or he’s squinting to keep the rain out of his eyes. You gave him a nod, stepping in closer.
          “There are too many of them. We’ll never get to them all. Some of them are coming right out of the walls!” You both looked around yourselves at the endless numbers in the Dutchman’s crew.
          “We only have to kill one.” James gestured towards the other end of the ship, where Davy Jones stood, lobster claw digging into the wood of the deck.
          “We don’t have the heart.”
          “But we both know who does.” James’ face was grim. “I should’ve stabbed it while I had the chance.”
          You grabbed his arm. “No. You would be just like Jones, then, bound to this ship for eternity. You’d have no humanity left.”
          “I’d be better than I am now.”
          The comment broke your heart, but there were too many enemies around for you to focus on it. You slashed at a shark-headed monstrosity before James pulled you in close, stabbing something just behind you. Now isn’t the time for blushing. But James was holding you tightly to his chest, and you heard him shoot another member of Jones’ crew.
          You hated to let go, but you had to duck under James’ arm to go after another, and another. Your back ended up pressed against James’, and you could feel each others’ heavy breathing.
          “I don’t think we’re going to make it out of this alive.” You had to shout to be heard over the thunderous racket. Between the rain, the gunfire, and the sharp clanging of swords, there was little room for words.
          “It doesn’t seem likely.”
          “You were trying to tell me something earlier.” Rain ran down your face in streams. “Now might be your only chance.”
          James put a hand on your shoulder, turning you around to face him. “I wanted to apologize, for it all. I hope you’ll accept it.”
          “Of course.” You grabbed the pistol from his side, leveling it at a creature behind his shoulder.
          “You didn’t deserve what I did.”
          You cupped his face with a hand. “I understand why you did it.”
          “You were the only one who treated me like a person, then, on the Pearl.” He had grabbed your arm, keeping you close. It occurred to you that you were both going to die like this, paying too much attention to each other and not enough to your surroundings. “I can’t…” James took a steadying breath. “I can’t help but love you for it.”
          You barely had time to process the words before his lips were on yours. Despite the storm, and the gunfire, and the clanging of swords—despite the knowledge that neither of you were going to make it out alive—the kiss was achingly tender, with so much softness and vulnerability that tears began to slip down your already soaked cheeks.
          This won’t be such a bad way to go.
          There was a sudden shuddering of the ship, and you and James had to cling to each other to keep upright. You looked up, only to find that the Pearl had broken away, her masts now untangled from the Dutchman’s.
          You tugged at James’ arm. “We have to go. I think the ship’s going under.”
          He nodded, and you found a loose line to swing over to the Pearl. The Dutchman sank not long after you hit the deck. The ship fell beneath the waves, sucked under by the storm.
          “We still have to face Beckett.” James looked out over the water to where the British armada was advancing.
          You could already feel some of the fight leaving you. How could you withstand an armada, when you’d barely defeated the Dutchman? “At least we have each other, now.”
          James looked down at you. “Yes.” He cautiously wrapped an arm around your waist. “And after? If there is an after.”
          You smiled teasingly. “I hope you don’t mind returning to piracy.”
          James smiled back. “I don’t think I’ll mind at all.”
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spinster-sisters · 3 years
Text
Sailor's Wife. psh
Pirate au
TW: ngl this gets kind heavy right in the beginning then it gets kinda soft right at the end so like idk. dom seonghwa, sub reader, degradation, use of the word whore(also wench cuz like pirates), oral, edging, possessiveness, breeding kink. oops, manhandling.
Normally i try my darndest to not get too wordy but for this I let it happen.
@xiuminswifeforever this ones for u. also this got a little carried away but heyyyyy what can ya do.
Also @multidreams-and-desires @a-soft-hornytiny and @eonghwa may possibly probably will enjoy this to so have at it
Perhaps you should be more understanding with your husband Seonghwa. After all, your ship had a name and a reputation to uphold, which would not be possible without the efforts of both him and your captain Hongjoong. But you were still stuck on a ship at sea, without much to do. It had been 4 days since you last made port, and it is likely you wouldn't dock for at least another 10. And with your husband ignoring your needs for the sake of maintaining perfect order on board as First Mate, you were feeling a little stir crazy.
Of course as the First Mates wife, and notable figure amongst the crew you had your own reputation to uphold as both a devoted wife and skilled sailor. So when you and your closest confidantes on board tried to blow off some steam by dipping into the bottles of rum during broad daylight on the top deck of the ship, your antics turn more than a few heads among the lower-ranking members of the crew.
It's true that Seonghwa had been neglecting you, instead spending the hours of the night pouring over maps and charts with the Capitan. And San and Wooyoung had always given you all the attention you missed. So in your slightly inebriated state, your place on Wooyoungs lap touseling his long hair felt more than natural.
The three of you were causing quite a ruckus, laughing, shouting, knocking over barrels and crates, and other general tomfoolery. It was only a short while before your Husband came bursting through the door on the far end of the deck (Capitans Quarters) scanning the ship for the cause of the disturbance.
Once he found it his eyes narrowed. He stalked over to your happy gathering, which had only briefly acknowledged him, with furry radiating of every step. Once he stood glowering before you, you finally gave him your attention.
"Seonghwa! Darling! How nice to see you!" You called, still on Wooyoungs lap. You swung your arms out to him and gestured for him to come to you but he ignored it. The slightly shrill cry of your voice had once again attracted the attention of the crew.
"We don't pay you to gawk. Back to work all of you!" Seonghwas powerful voice carried over to the men, who sprung into action, heads turning quickly away. Seonghwa turned his hard stare back to the three of you.
"I want all three of you off this deck, in your quarters in the next 5 minutes," he began low and growling, "or so help me God I will throw you overboard myself!" As he carried on his voice grew in both anger and volume. But the three of you, foolishly perhaps, did not heed his warning.
"Oh, come on now Seonghwa. Don't be such a hard ass" San remarked giggly. Seonghwas gaze snapped to the man and opened his mouth to speak but Wooyoung interjected.
"We were just showing your lovely wife a good time," he spoke with a lopsided smirk, hand coming down to your thigh. And the Frist Mate followed the action with dangerous eyes.
You stood from your spot on wobbly feet, taking a step closer to your husband, and took the front lapels of his long sea-worn jacket into your hands and practically hung on the man.
"Come now, Seonghwa. Won't you find it in your heart to be lenient with your darling little wife," you pleaded jokingly, batting your eyelashes. Seonghwa was not amused.
He took your wrist into his hand and with a strong grip, he pulled you away from him so quick you almost toppled to the floor, but not before he yanked your arm back with equal strength, leaning down to be right in your face as he spat.
"I do not see the darling wife you speak of, all I can see is a drunk ship wench without the mind to Do. As. Shes. Told. Now go back to our room and hope with all your might you sober up before I get there."
As his speech concluded he pushed you away again, this time in the direction of the stairs that led below deck. You were practically in shock as you bowed your head and stumbled to wooden stairs, the distant yells of your husband now directed at the other two men. taking the stairs down to the first floor where there were 7 small rooms for the officers aboard, including you and your husband's room at the end of the short hall.
Now perhaps you were drunker than you realized because the gentle swaying of the ship with the waves had you practically falling over with every step and by the time you reached your room you had all but collapsed onto the bed, drifting in and out of consciousness with the tides.
Perhaps, Seonghwas words had been empty threats as when you finally awoke (unfortunately sober) you could see the dusk sky shining through the small window at the back of the tiny room. Your head pounded when you sat up, but the uncomfortableness of your day clothes was undeniable.
You slipped out of the hard leather of your coat and boots and pulled the linen shirt over your head. After removing your ragged pants from your body you moved to pull your soft nightgown over your head but stopped when the door open. Ready to scream at the person who disturbed you in private you only stoped when your eyes landed on your cross-looking husband. You scoffed at the man in the door and turned your back to him.
"Oh no darling, you can't run away from me this time," he said rounding the bed to stand behind you, "your actions today were absolutely inexcusable, no matter what marriage you benefit from" he growled at you.
You scoffed again and whipped around to face him, still completely bare.
"Darling? Who on earth could you be talking to, certainly not me. As I recall I was nothing more than a ship wench." You spat his own words back at him.
"Don't try to be smart," he snapped at you, taking another step closer, " Today you behaved like nothing more than an attention-hungry whore, and if you expect me to set that aside simply as your husband you are far from wrong darling," his voice spoke dangerously even.
"Perhaps I have a right to be starved for attention! As you seem certainly more than willing to leave me alone for days on end," you returned with equal venom. This seemed to shock Seonghwa, though his anger did not lessen he remained quiet.
"What kind of husband leaves their wife for days on end without so much as a touch! Perhaps I should go find Wooyoung? As I know he would be more than willing to give me the kind of attention you have been denying me,"
As soon as the words left your mouth you knew they had been a mistake, you opened your lips to take them back but Seonghwas hand caught your throat in an instant, catching your breath.
"You want me to act like a husband? Perhaps I should treat you as a husband should treat their wife when they say such things," he glowered, eyes sharpening with rage.
He released his grip on your neck only to push you back onto your creaking bed. As you caught your breath Seonghwa tossed his own coat away from him and loosened the ties of string keeping the top of his shirt together, but not removing it completely. He climbed onto your exposed body, keeping you trapped beneath his weight. He ran one lean hand from your neck down to your breast and groped it with rough hands. You moaned in pleasure, finally, your body practically screamed. He scoffed at you.
"You want to be treated like a wife yet you sound like such a whore, crying out for me at the slightest touch, perhaps I should teach you how to appreciate what you are given."
He moved away from your body before wrenching your legs apart. You blushed madly at how his words and touch had affected you, your cunt was already sopping wet at the idea of your husband finally putting it to use.
"Tsk, so desperate. Have a taught you nothing?" he grumbled to himself.
"Sorry, sir" you whined. He meets your eyes for just an instant, showing him that you had not forgotten all of your manners with him. He wasted not another moment before pulling your hips twords his head and licking up your dripping folds. A strangled cry left your lips.
Just as he set to work, licking and sucking all of the places on you that he knew to be useful. His hand returned to your breast, kneading the flesh between his long fingers with a rough grip.
You were at his mercy. Your body was his to toy with and he knew how to play you well. His tongue dove into your slit, further than should be possible, using the muscle to open the neglected hole and taste the essence now running down his chin. He lapped away at your cunt, taking all he wanted from you while you lay there limp and twitching with the occasional cry of ecstasy.
His fingers pinched the hard bud of your nipple and pulled on it, bringing a cry from your lips. Normally cries like these were reprimanded, but you had a feeling your husband wanted the whole ship to know exactly what he was doing to his wife.
You were coming closer and closer to the orgasm you so desperately needed. Your body was reacting to every touch with increased sensitivity as it hadn't been used in so long, and Seonghwa was oh so skilled at pulling these feelings out of you, the fire burning in your belly was twisting and reveling, begging to be realized.
You cried out again, feeling you're about to get that sweet sweet release you so craved.
When it all stopped.
You cried out again but this time in strangled desperation and confusion. You locked eyes with your husband and plead you were wrong about what is happening.
Seonghwa simply pulled away, unbothered, he stood from the bed and you felt your heart shatter as he moved across the floor. He picked up a rag and wiped his face clean before turning back to your still panting figure.
"Remember, when you married me you gave your sweet, soft body to me. And now any pleasure it receives is mine to control. I want you to think about what you just experienced and learn to appreciate all that I give you. Now, I am going to return to my duties, and when I come back if I believe you have earned it I will treat you like my wife, and not some common whore."
And without another word, he left.
-
You laid their flabbergasted and unmoving for what felt like hours. As the sunset behind the horizon, you pulled your body up into a sitting position with your legs cradled to your chest. You don't dare act on the burning emptiness in your core, as you truly felt you had learned your lesson.
The minutes ticked on. Occasionally you heard the sound of feet coming down the ladder from down the hall and your stomach lept, but every time they continued down to the lower deck for the crew. Your mind wandered to your wedding day.
It had only been 4 years since that day. It was before you had joined the crew, but Seonghwa who you had known since your childhood had already been called to the sea by his friend and now captain. He had asked you to marry him the day before he left on his first voyage and you waited for him without a second thought. Once he returned months later he had already been made First Mate and you only had a week before he would be out at sea again. On the day of your wedding, you were scolded by your parents for allowing a lawless pirate to take you, but your father gave you away regardless. By the end of the night, you were already miles out to sea with your new husband and he showed you for the first time how well a wife could be treated.
Needless to say, you rediscovered your appreciation for the man.
So when the door finally opened once again, you only gazed at Seonghwa with stars in your eyes. He approached your side of the bed and took your chin into his hand, aiming your face up at his.
"Have you learned your lesson?" He asked. You nodded.
"Yes, sir," you spoke with a creaky voice. He cracked the smallest hint of a satisfied smile.
"Why don't you lean back, my darling"
And so you did. You fell back onto the blankets and watched as your husband finally pulled his shirt over his head and rid himself of his distressed pants. He climbed over you and took your head in his hand again and muttered,
"Now remind me, sweet girl, who's are you," he asked in a firm guiding voice.
"All yours, sir,"
"Wonderful, should I take what's mine then?" He asked in that same tone.
"Please sir," you replied.
Seonghwa leaned down to connect your lips in one sweet kiss that lasted only a moment before pulling away his demeanor changed. Hands ran down your sides pulling your legs to wrap around his thin waist.
"My darling wife, waiting so patiently for me," he mused. The tip of his cock teased your wet entrance, only pushing in the slightest bit but you clenched instinctively regardless.
"Maybe it has been too long," he chuckled darkly in your ear, "I almost forgot how eagerly you wish to be filled," he chided taking the lobe of your ear between his teeth. Your breath hitched, scared to make /the wrong move that would bring this all crashing to a halt.
In one fluid motion, Seonghwa pushed the rest of his length into you to the hilt. You whined desperately at the slightly painful stretch and screwed your eyes shut as the pain morphed into the sweetest pleasure.
"Ready, my darling?" He mumbled into your ear, a slight smirk in his voice.
"Please,"
And so he began. Pulling all the way out before slamming back in with the same force and speed. You cried out again.
Every time his hips met yours for that brief moment you relished in the feeling of being completely filled up by him. His length was long and he used it well. He knew your body well enough to know exactly how to angle your hips to be hitting your more sensitive places inside you every single time he thrust.
You clung desperately to his broad shoulders, allowing your body to become plaint again and for lewd sound to tumble past your lips into his ears. Each sound seemed to give him newfound strength, picking up speed and force every time.
"Oh, my sweet wife, letting me have my way with her," he mumbled, gripping your hip for leverage, the other hand gently caressing your body. "So desperate to be filled," he chuckled. You whined in agreement, pulling yourself tighter to his body as your sensitive walls clung and stretched around him.
"I could fill you up even more darling, would you like that?" He asked, panting slightly at the exertion.
You nodded blindly.
"I could fill you up with my cum, fill you up with my child," he groaned at the thought, "oh you would love that wouldn't you darling, letting me put a child in you," you clenched around his cock once again as he punctuated his words with one, particularly hard thrust into your special spot.
"Yes, sir" you replied breathlessly "please, fill me up with your child," it came out as nothing but a whisper, "want- want your baby,"
"I know you do darling, don't worry," he groaned. You were clenching around him madly and your orgasm was fast approaching. His grip on your hip and turned to iron and your body was convulsing.
"What kind of husband would I be if I didn't give my wife a baby,"
At those words, your body began to convulse. You finally felt that sweet really you had been denied for so long. Your eyes rolled back and your cunt was clenching frantically as the waves of pleasure came over you so strong you lost control of your limbs, crying out weakly Seonghwas name. Seonghwa kept his steady pace all the while until he himself was thrown over the edge.
You recognize the feeling of thick ropes of cum pouring into you. Seonghwas own cries had increased in volume as he emptied inside you. It took several seconds, but when he had finally milked the last of his orgasms from your body he pulled away.
You lay spent but completely content on the bed before him with what could only be described as a dopey smile. He always looked so beautiful when he came and even coming down yourself you had to admire the gorgeous man you married. He cracked his own smile at your face and leaned to give you a lingering kiss. And your eyes dropped closed.
"Go to sleep, darling, ill take care of you in the morning."
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hoodoo12 · 4 years
Text
Elegy (4/6)
These two’ll be the death of me, @clairjohnson . . . Home again, home again, jiggity jig, even if that home is a tomb. Despite drunkenness, something unexpected occurs.
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3
@turtlepated @thewolfisapartofmysoul @beejiesbitch @janitor-boy @angelicspaceprince @beetlewise-and-pennyjuice `
If she hadn’t been so focused on keeping him upright his words would have knocked her down. Maria had heard this man flirt a hundred times over, but nothing ever so flattering and eloquent. The most beautiful. Her stomach twisted at the compliment. Both unbelievably flattered and heartbroken all at once. Had he always thought this? Or had he really just gone overboard with the drinks tonight? 
She was about to respond, to express how completely touched she was by his words, when he started to talk again. Beej’s announcement of their arrival, and subsequent stumble, snapped her out of her thoughts. When had they gotten here? She hadn’t even realized they’d gone through a door. 
Didn’t matter. The Netherworld was a strange place, Betelgeuse was strange, it was easier just to accept things as they were. What was harder to accept, however, was his home. It was practically barren, save for a bed, table, and wooden chair. The only light in the room came from a few scattered candles that revealed debris strewn across his old wooden floor.
It looked like a crypt. It might be a crypt. 
“This is where you stay?” she asked, unable to hide the shock in her voice. Her place was hardly a palace, but it was clean. Bright. She couldn’t imagine ever spending a night here. Let alone however many hundreds of years he’d been dead. The mere concept made her chest tighten in pity. 
“Let’s get you over to the bed . . .”
"Gives me incentive to get top side," he muttered half under his breath at her blurted question. "Who cares anyway? I close my eyes and it's gone. I don't see it. No one else does either." 
She hadn't taken her arm from around his waist. With her continued assistance, he shuffled over towards his bed. The distance wasn't far, but as if to help bolster the fact his place was more fleabag hotel than the Ritz-Carlton, his foot caught a stack of Handbooks for the Recently Deceased--how did those get there? It couldn't be that he'd stolen them from recently deceased in order to con them--
--and he stumbled. The four walls around them did a looping dance. Automatically his grip over her shoulders tightened even as his other hand went for the rusty iron foot rail on his bed. He managed to remain upright, but had jerked her along with him. 
As he recaught his balance, the room settled back into place. 
She'd been close while walking with him, but there'd still been a detachment. He'd managed to scatter that with his ham-fisted, foolish misstep; Maria had been pulled right to him. 
With a jerky, unnatural movement, he lifted his arm off her. 
"Sorry," he apologized.
Top side. She and others, including Juno, had wondered for decades how he’d manage to find ways to the world of the living. There were rules. Passes you needed to apply for - but he, in normal Betelgeuse fashion, skirted by it all. 
She was about to snap back at his flippant comment when he tripped over what appeared to be a pile of handbooks. Maria reminded herself to inquire on those later. Thankfully Beej caught himself on the bed, saving them both from falling face first on the wood floor. In his effort to stay balanced the arm around her shoulder moved forward, effectively pulling her into his chest. One arm still wrapped around his waist, the other now flat on his chest, she peered up at him with embarrassment. He wasn’t a particularly tall man, but he was sturdy, and she felt unusually small pressed against him. 
When he detached himself with a slurred apology Maria took in a shaky breath she didn’t need then helped him sit down on the bed. God, he looked so disheveled - more so than usual. His eyes were heavy, shoulders slumped, and his tie was loosened and askew around his neck. 
Without waiting for permission Maria slipped the loose tie up and over his head and hung it gently on the foot rail. Turning back she hesitated, just for a second, before helping him slip his jacket off. She ran her hands over his shoulders and under the jacket, sliding it down his arms. The beauty queen reached around him, leaning in close, and retrieved the jacket and reunited it with his tie. 
“From what I can see of your bed I doubt you take these off when you sleep.” She crouched down and angled his large black boots for him to see. “However, I can’t bring myself to see you place these nasty things on the mattress.”
Some quick finger work on the laces and a few short tugs had both boots off. She placed them neatly at the foot of his bed. Maria brushed some questionable dirt off her hands and returned to the older man, giving him a satisfied once over. Gently, she pressed on his shoulder for him to lay down. 
“Get some rest, Alborotador. I’m sure I’ll be seeing you around again soon.”
He felt loose, like his joints had been separated. Maria's gentle guidance around the end of his bed to the side and helping him sit was appreciated, but that was nothing compared to her carefully removing his tie. At some point it'd become loosened, or even in his inebriated state he'd have slapped her hands away. Nobody touched his neck, that was a rule. But she was quick and efficient and the fabric never touched his skin. That would've been enough, but then, but then-- 
She assisted him out of his jacket. Any other time he'd have made some off-color comment or pushed the flirting so hard it would have bordered on desperate. But muddled by the booze and still feeling the deep ache of rejection from those people in goddamned Connecticut, just to have her be attentive, just to have her hands peel him out of his outerwear-- 
A small sigh slipped past his lips. If she heard it, she ignored it.  
Then she didn't leave well enough alone; she actually crouched in front of him in her cocktail dress and heels--everything about her was in stark contrast to the rat's nest he lived in, and he included himself in that melancholy assessment; he should have never brought her here--and worked the laces of his boots loose and pulled them off his feet.
The care and concern pained him. The simple act of touch took him apart. 
When she took his shoulder he almost moaned. Like a man dying of thirst in a desert, he wanted nothing more than to drink in that simple friendly touch. 
It took all his will power to not grab her hand. Not for anything inappropriate, but just to keep it there, so he could soak it in. Instead, he sat dumb and dull as she straightened her skirt and bid him farewell. 
"Why does everyone keep leaving me?" he whispered. There had been a time very recently he'd bellowed that, but here, all he could expend the effort on was something closer to a whimper.
Maria had started to make her way out of the room when he spoke, the sound of his broken voice pulling at her more than the words themselves. Not that the words didn't catch her attention, and in many ways, hurt her. He was drunk, she reminded herself, and sad. She could stay with him a little longer - just until he was unconscious, she already crossed a line by being here, and basically sprinted past said line when she helped him undress. 
"I'm not leaving you," Maria corrected while she walked back over to the bed. "I was just going home. I have no illusions that you won't be darkening my waiting room doorstep again soon." 
Gently, she sat down on the bed beside him, her leg brushing up against his own. 
"Now lay down. Go on." She pushed at him again, moving out of the way for him to lift his legs up. The beauty queen stayed seated beside him, her torso twisted slightly to look down at him while she spoke. 
"If anyone left, it was you, Beej." The words were soft and sad, and she reached out absently to adjust a crease in his white(ish) button up. "Got yourself in so much trouble that Juno had to fire you - and then you were gone. Disappeared like smoke for years, only to show back up in the waiting room looking pissed." 
Maria had been so relieved, and so unbelievably angry to see him after all that time. It was that absence, that complete cut from communication, that had brought her back to calling him Mr. Betelgeuse - a title she already found herself skipping again in favor of his nickname.
Maria appeared at his side again, and blearily he looked up at her. Her nudge wasn't rough but he was so unsteady it was almost enough to topple him. He managed to not just fall back like a drunk--haha--but only just barely. 
Her words came to him as if through cotton wool. Disorganized thoughts moved lazily inside his head; it was so much easier to be angry than this drunken, dazed state he was in. The fact that the beauty queen had even given him the time of day was almost too much to take and much too much to even try and puzzle out. 
In the reaches of his memory he did recall how upset she'd been to see him again, and her cool reception to him ever since the final incident that sent him packing--that he'd designed for at least the chance for freedom. Tonight was the first time in all the times he'd reappear she'd ever done anything more than nod politely and exchange chilly words. 
As she sat primly, lightly beside him, the bed frame buckled. It didn't startle him, he was more than used to it, but he could imagine the surprise on her face as the mattress sagged her closer to him. Her delicate attention to his shirt made him catch her hand. 
"Come here," he croaked out, before clearing his throat, giving her a half-hearted pull. "I gotta tell you something."
The unexpected dipping of the mattress when he laid back surprised her, and she ended up with her back pressed against his side. Maria might have just fallen on top of him, if he hadn’t grabbed the hand that had been adjusting his shirt. 
Deep brown eyes assessed him curiously at the request. He was quite capable of saying whatever it was he needed to say from where she sat now - but the pull of sympathy was still strong. Without a word Maria leaned down to him, her free hand bracing her body on the mattress next to his. Being this close, even closer than when she was helping him walk home, she could pick up the smell of moss and wet dirt that clung to his clothes and skin. There was also the faintest smell of roses - so subtle that she could have second guessed if it was there at all.
She did as requested, and leaned over him. A stray lock of hair escaped from its careful pinning, and tickled his cheek. Maybe if things between them had been different, maybe if he hadn't fucked everything over in that spectacular way that was apparently his specialty, he'd have permission to brush it back. To lift it and settle it behind her ear. A minor but intimate gesture. 
But he didn't. He let her hair stay where it was, because it was also nice to feel it on his skin. 
Now that he had her there, he was at a loss for words. Lots of things flitted through his head: "You deserve better than me." "I missed you." "Wanna go see Saturn? I know a safe place--" 
In the end, he frowned a little as he focused on her features. She was so close everything was blurred; he didn't think it was because of the alcohol. Why in the ever-loving hell did she put up with him? 
"Thank you," he whispered.
There was a long silence while his eyes searched her face. Maria could tell he was considering something - and the fact that it was taking him this much time started to worry her. Why? She wasn’t sure. 
At this distance she was able to get a good look at his face. It was round and scruffy, and strangely complimented by his Roman nose. Even in his current, sullen state his lips still had an upturned curl to them. She’d always liked his lips.
 Her attention was taken away from his face when he spoke, and she smiled at him in response. 
“You’re welcome.” 
Blame it on the alcohol, on their proximity, on the raw vulnerability he’d shown her - but without having time to process her actions, her face closed the distance with his. The kiss was soft, and her lips barely pressed against his own. 
It took only a few seconds for what she had done to register, and when it sunk in, she pulled back. Not all the way, but enough to give him a dazed, almost apologetic look. She hadn’t planned to do that, would have sworn up and down that she would never be kissing Betelgeuse right up until the moment she did. Maria started to sit up a little more and opened her mouth to speak, but had no idea what to say.
The brush of her lips against his was a shock that wasn't dulled by alcohol. 
His hand automatically went up to touch her, to slip to her jaw to keep her close, but the split second that it took for him to try she pulled back again. But the motion was in place; although he missed keeping her where she was, his fingers touched the junction of neck and shoulder. 
There was nothing more important in his existence than tasting her lipstick again. 
Eyes wide, his tongue swiping his bottom lip in a move he didn't give conscious thought to, Beetlejuice breathed out, "Mi hermosa emperatriz Maria . . ." 
With a little additional pressure from his hand he encouraged her back towards him as he surged up to her.
tbc . . .
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suometar · 3 years
Text
youtube
Power song of the day: Wake up by Smash into Pieces
You can not resist, like a moth to a flame -- You know it will burn, but sometimes you enjoy the pain
This is your favorite game -- But you're gonna be defeated -- And you're never gonna beat it -- Controls you like a slave -- But you gotta stop pretending -- You won't get a happy ending
(Chorus) Someday you're gonna wake up -- Gonna wake up -- From a life in fantasy -- Someday you're gonna wake up -- Gonna wake up -- And realize it's not meant to be -- You stumble in the dark cause you close your eyes -- Guided by the sweet talk lullaby -- But someday you will wake up -- You will wake up From a life in fantasy -- Wake up!
You try to cut everyone out of your life -- So no one can question how you can believe the lies
This is your favorite game -- But you're gonna be defeated -- And you're never gonna beat it -- Controls you like a slave -- But you gotta stop pretending -- You won't get a happy ending
(Chorus)
You're in the fire, what do you do? -- You wake up -- The final round is waiting for you
(Chorus)
Why? Well...
I'm coming down from mania.
Which sucks. And here's a glimpse into my 30 or so years experience of this nonsense.
But before I say more I want to say to everyone who I have been venting during the last month or so:
Please don't think that you have contributed in making my situation worse. You haven't. The fuel for all of it comes from within myself. I am nothing but crateful that I have had a chance to vent to someone because otherwise it all would've just clumped inside me and that would've made the situation worse.
And besides, not all venting has been caused just by mania. When I'm manic it doesn't remove the normal thoughts and feelings I have.
When you're stuck in a tar pit created by a certain person for who knows how many years in a row it's obvious it's not just the mania. I think you guys know what that's like :D
Coming down is like a really really really REALLY bad hangover
Except that you can remember every single thing you've done, the things you've felt, the things you've planned, what you thought of. EVERYTHING.
And you KNOW they're all just a result of the chemical imbalance of your own brain.
Coming down doesn't mean necessarily that I'm now depressed. It's just getting back to your normal state from mania.
But the bad hangover is real. If you've experienced that you know what it's like. Regrets after regrets.
What's mania like
That ecstacy of mania is an immense rush you don't really know unless you've experienced it yourself.
It's difficult to describe, but I think falling in love really hard and fast is the closest that describes it best. You have butterflies in your stomach all the time, you're hyperfixating on that one person and you feel invincible, like everything in your life is finally perfect and you're in control like never before.
Or even better: It's like being on speed, except without the drugs. Overstimulated 24-7-365.
Hyperfixation is typical for mania
In my case the hyperfixation can be basically anything from men (real or fictional, doesn't really matter lol) to any action, hobby or even work, totally depends on the situation.
What I do is I dedicate all my time to that one thing and one thing only even though I know it's not healthy.
Thank god I've learned to control it so that it won't take ALL of my time anymore, but it still is there. And I need to cater it to some extent or I won't be able to do anything.
It's like having a parasite you can't get rid of but you can make it behave if you give it some attention from time to time.
What's real and what's not? That is the question
When you're having mania it's sometimes super hard to differentiate what's a real thought and what is based on the illusion created by your own mind. And even though I am nowadays capable to tell the difference of my real thoughts/feelings and the ones fueled by mania the later ones do have an effect on me even though I try not to react to them.
The tricky thing is that your body can't tell the difference of a so called real/normal thought/feeling and one created inside my head fueled by mania.
A manic person wants nothing more than get more of the dopamine that fuels the ecstacy. Which easily can lead to a psychotic episode/period.
The saddest part is that manic person usually looks and behaves exactly like any normal person. You can't tell from outside if someone is having mania unless they choose to show it. Psychotic then usually is clearly psychotic and erratic and behaves totally out of character.
Triggers for mania
Anything can basically be a trigger for mania and they vary from person to person. For me it's usually one of the following:
an extreme negative change in life (such as death, divorce or other big things like that),
finding a new crush,
intensive concentration on some activity,
social media, or
as surprising as it might be: music. Especially any with a faster tempo.
Usually though I have already been somewhat hypomanic before the real mania hits. Hypomania though is very hard to notice because I'm somewhat easily excited and impulsive already by nature.
But I've lived with this so long that I know when it's going overboard. My manic mind just usually chooses to say it's nothing and I believe it like a fool - because it feels so good.
This time the trigger for me was intensive concentrating on writing. While the writing was crucial in easing my general anxiety this time it had this unfortunate side effect.
Nonetheless, I'm not quitting writing. Because the anxiety has eased significantly from when I started. I probably need to change the subject for a while and not to write daily or limit it just for 30 mins a day.
How a new crush can happen when you're married, you ask?
Oh, easily. See, with a manic mind a marriage is nothing but an obstacle. Nothing is but an obstacle that is designed to limit you. Because you're omnipotent. And obstacles - well, they're made to be conquered or plowed through.
In my case I've chosen to keep my crushes online and physically as far away from me as possible. I've made a mistake of crushing into someone irl and that was UGLY for all parties involved.
Thirsting over someone from afar online while remaining happily married is by far a better option.
How to control mania or turn it off
Yes, you can turn it off. The problem with that is that usually manic person doesn't
feel like something is wrong, and
doesn't want to get down from the high.
But there are things you can do to get it end sooner.
Log off from all social media. Seriously. Don't just turn notifications off - LOG OFF.
If that's not enough, remove all the social media apps from your phone. You can always install them again.
Turn off your phone if it's possible.
Don't use computer unless it is absolutely necessary - like for paying bills. You don't need to find out what age Barbara Streissand is at 2:30am - or, well, ever.
Social media is by far the biggest contributor for mania. The apps are designed to give us a dopamine rush each time we scroll down any feed and see a new post. That's how they keep us stuck on them.
When you already have an issue with the dopamine rush using social media just makes it worse.
You won't miss anything if you log off for two days or a week. SERIOUSLY. But it will improve your well-being tremendously.
The absolutely best thing you can do is to create as dull environment to yourself as possible. That there's nothing artificial you can drown yourself into. Best place to be in mania is in the middle of the woods without any mobile signal - trust me.
Take up an activity where you do something with your hands. Hands-on approach is crucial.
Doing things with your hands will root you into the real world.
It doesn't matter what it is: cooking, cleaning, handcrafts, drawing or painting (NOT on a computer or ipad but with real pencils/crayons/paints/brushes/etc).
Remember not to do just that though. Go out (without your phone). Enjoy the nature. Listen to the sounds of the outside world. Don't close your senses with headphones. Read. Watch out of the window. Stare at the wall. Watch the paint dry.
LET YOURSELF GET BORED.
Just stay away from any electronic devices.
The hangover is horrible but it'll pass. And you will feel better afterwards when you're functional again.
------
It's not easy. None of us chose to live with bipolar. It's always inherited. But there are ways to work through it.
I hope this helps at least someone.
Thank you for coming to my TED talk.
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ladynightmare913 · 4 years
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Secrets of the Darkened Seas
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Welcome to Chapter 6! I would like to say a special thank you to my best friend and co-author Olivia ( @asunshinepuff​ ) for inviting me to work on this story with her. As you may have noticed, we have decided to change on how we release the chapters of our story. We will be alternating from my blog to @asunshinepuff​‘s blog. 
These chapters contain many original characters created by Olivia and myself. All credit for our creations goes to each other for our respective characters because we have both worked so hard to bring these character to life and I would never dare to take credit for any of Olivia’s characters. 
As always there is mermaid lore hidden within the storyline. The included lore on different types of merfolk will be taken from the book “The Secret World of Mermaids” by Francine Rose. We are taking no credit for her work. The different types of mermaids will be explained later so don’t worry. We have also taken the liberty of creating some of own original types of merfolk.
Now without further adieu!
Chapter 6: The Return of the White Sea Serpent
Min-Jun glared at the sleeping form of Sirius Black. He had returned to the ship in the dead of night, Quinn, Opal and Remus all quickly rushed to explain what had occurred earlier that night. And now, they waited for the Captain’s Verdict. 
“Let’s just throw him overboard.” Remus suggests simply. His arms were crossed as he glared at the unconscious man. 
“To throw him overboard would require him to be alive, Remus.” Min-Jun spoke.  
“He doesn’t have to be.” Remus smiled. 
Min-Jun shook his head in amusement with his young ward. He looked back to Sirius. 
“No, he came looking for his young brother.” He stood from his seat, looking to Remus and Quinn. “I will give him the antidote, I wish to question him. He may be the key to finally be rid of those Black Pirates.”  
“I agree.” Quinn replied with a curt nod. “We should keep an eye on him though, if he came here solely for Regulus, he might attempt to kidnap his brother himself.” He continued, leaning against the wooden wall of the infirmary.
“Tha ítan anóito na apagágei ton aderfó tou.” Would be foolish to abduct his brother. Opal mumbled under her breath, prompting Quinn to give her a look with raised eyebrows. Really?
“And that task falls to you, Remus.” Min-Jun looked at the younger man. “He will be under your care. Do your best not to strangle him.” Without another word, the Captain reached into his coat, pulling a small thin vial from his pocket. He pried Sirius’ jaw  open, poured the contents into his mouth, and rubbed his neck to force Sirius to swallow. 
“It will take some time before it starts taking effect. He should be fine at noon later today.”  
With nothing else left to say, the captain left them to it. 
Remus was not happy with being on babysitting duty. He didn’t mind watching Regulus and Tadase because they were actual children, not an annoying over egotistical adult. Tadase and Regulus were sweet boys, Sirius just made Remus want to smash his face with a hammer.  So in order to calm himself, Remus went in search of the boys because they always somehow managed to calm him down. 
“Your brother is here Regulus,” Remus spoke softly. Tadase rested in his lap, playing with the tassel on the hilt of his sword. Remus looked at Regulus, the boy tensed up. 
“...” Regulus lowered his head down, avoiding Remus’ eyes.  
“Do you want to see-”
“NO!” Regulus shouted. Tadase startled, covering his ears at the older child’s scream.
Remus gawked back at the boy, frowning lightly. “Regulus, don’t shout. You startled Tadase.” 
Chastised, Regulus looked down to his lap. Remus sighed softly pausing for a brief moment, “Alright, if he asks to see you, I’ll keep him away.”
“He knows I’m here?” Regulus’ eyes widen like discs.  
“He came here for you.” Remus replied with a nod.
“...why?” Regulus frowned as if he had eaten something sour. 
“Because he loves you.”
Regulus snapped his head to Brielle, Remus also looked to the older mermaid, she was sitting on a chair, her lessons in walking were slow but steady. Her black hair had been tied into a braid by Opal, she wore a simple flowy blue dress, her feet were covered in flats with lace tied around her ankles. Her dark eyes watched Regulus’ stormy blue ones. 
“No he doesn’t,” Regulus glared, “He left me alone…” 
Brielle tilted her head, her eyes shifted to silver. “Sometimes, people have to leave… but they come back. And he does love you.”  
“How do you know? You never even met him.” Brielle smiled, as if she knew a secret Regulus didn’t. She montined her hand for Regulus to come closer. “I do know, do you want to know how?” 
Regulus eyed her skeptically, eventually the young boy nodded his head. He walked over to the mermaid. She easily lifted the boy to her lap. Her silver eyes only seemed to intensify. Slowly, her clawed hands inched toward the sides of his face. 
“Because Sirius and I are the same.” 
Regulus frowned. “No, you're nice, Sirius is mean.” 
Brielle shook her, gently she pulled Regulus’ head to her chest, “Listen.”
Regulus was confused for a moment before he heard the tell tale sound of a heart beat. “Your heart?” 
Brielle smiled, gently pulling him back to look at his eyes. “Sirius and I, share the same heart.” 
Regulus frowned, “I don’t understand.” 
Brielle only smiled, “We love the same. We are first borns, and we love our younger siblings fiercely.”
“No, he left me!” 
“I leave Tadase to hunt, our mother was not kind, our father was killed by our mother. Tadase had no mother, so I became what he needed.” She rubbed Regulus’ head gently. “Sirius is young, very young, he could not raise you yet, so he left. But his heart never left you.”  
“Why did he leave me?” Regulus’ eyes began to water. 
Brielle pulled him into another hug. “Because sometimes, older siblings are not strong enough to protect their siblings, Sirius knew this. So he left to get stronger, so he could come back for you and raise you. Because he loves you.” 
Regulus wasn’t entirely convinced. “... But how do you know?” 
“Because I did the very same.” Regulus pulled back, his face angry. “Why?! Why did you leave Tadase?!” 
“Our mother is powerful, and I was still too young, but I came back. Because if I didn’t he would not survive. Our mother does not love us.” Brielle responded patiently. 
“Why did your mama not love you?” He questioned.
“Maybe because mother and father were different species, maybe because we looked like our father more. I do not know.”  
Regulus looked down, biting his lip. “That sounds like Mama… and Papa…they don’t like Sirius… or me…” He rubbed his eyes, sobbing as he looked up to the mermaid. “Why, why do they not love us?” 
Brielle’s gaze only softened. “Some cannot love, but Sirius and I, we have so much love to give to our brothers,” She paused, brushing his hair back, “Tadase forgave me, and he is safe in my love,” she tilted Regulus’ chin up, “Forgive your brother, and you will feel just how much love he has to give. He will never leave you again.” 
Regulus wailed, his shoulder shook as he sobbed harshly, Brielle simply rubbed his back as she sang her lullaby for the boys. 
Remus watched in silent study. He knew mermaids were in tune with the emotions of others. And if what Brielle said was true, then perhaps there was more to Sirius Black than being a complete idiot. After listening to the lullaby for a few minutes, Remus left the boys with Brielle as he went back to check on Sirius, only to find the raging idiot shouting at the crew demanding for his brother. 
Sirius somehow had gotten a hold of a sword and was holding one of the crew hostage. “I want to see Regulus!” His skin had returned to a healthy pale tone, his eyes were focused and his strength clearly returned. 
Remus felt a headache coming on. A big one. He sighs, “If you think holding one of my crewmates hostage is a good tact to see your brother, you are a bigger fool than I thought.”
Sirius glared. “You, who do you think you are keeping my brother away from me?” 
“Who do I think I am? Someone who cares about your brother despite only knowing the boy for nearly a week.” He simply retorts.
“Oh like I am supposed to believe that. The Blacks have been chased after by the navy for years, you really think I’m going to believe you’re not holding him for leverage, or for a reward?” Sirius glared.  
Remus glared in return, “You should be thankful you’re even alive. That poison is fast acting. I’d mind your words.”
Sirius gave a humorless laugh, “Oh like I’d expect you to understand. I would travel to the pits of hell for him.” He pressed the blade closer to the crew man’s neck. “Where is he?” 
Before Remus could retort, a melodious song reached their ears. The crew men's eyes began to droop, falling into a trance. 
Quinn stumbled, his hand reaching for the railing to keep himself upright, Opal slowly lowered to the ground, Sirius’ grip on the dagger loosened, falling to the deck. 
Remus blinked in confusion, he turned to the source of the song and saw Brielle standing on deck, holding onto the wall to steady herself, she was singing everyone to sleep. 
Sirius collapsed, Quinn fell unconscious. Opal layed down and fell asleep on a bag of rice. Brielle walked closer to Remus, who remained unaffected since he was a mer as well.  
Min-Jun walked towards him, glaring at Brielle. “Could you not?” 
Brielle eyed Min-Jun in puzzlement, but did stop her song. Min-Jun walked to Sirius. Remus only watched Min-Jun in bewilderment. 
Why hadn’t the song affected The Captain of the Dragon’s Pearl?
Tag List: (Let me know if you wish to be added!) 
@whataboutmyfries​ @sunflowerfox87​ @spookypotato​ @wonder-womans-ex​
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writing-freak · 4 years
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Softly Soaring hcs
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(GIF credit to its owner :)) )
Todoroki Shouto x Reader
Request: @greywarenns
greywarenns asked:Hi! I discovered your blog recently and I absolutely loved the "facts of the universe" hcs you did with bakugo x reader who is his childhood best friend and crush! Is it alright if I ask for hcs like that with todoroki please?👉👈 I totally understand if you don't feel like writing it bc you don't want it to be repetitive! whether you decide to write this request or not, thank you so much!💕
A/N: umm ok so I went like way overboard, but this was also so fun so I couldn’t help myself hehe. this is my first time writing for todoroki ahhh but it was so fun and I hope it’s alright?? thanks for the request, and thanks everyone for reading! stay safe, have a great day! 500 follower celebration coming next!!
so I’ve been obsessed with this song lately, and ended up sorta basing this on it cause I can’t get it out of my head, I would totally recommend listening, but it’s not 100% necessary to the story :)
The song is Soul Meets Body by Death Cab for Cutie
also i have a hand holding kink
Warnings: slight mention of Todoroki’s trauma, but mostly pure fluff
Masterlist
Todoroki Shouto
being todoroki’s best friend came with its fair share of difficulties
especially since you had known him since you were in diapers, and had been a part of every rocky event that shaped the course of his complicated familial relationships, his dealings with trauma, and the stubbornness and emotional instability that came with being a teenager
sometimes you wondered how your friendship lasted so long, but then you spent just a moment around the boy, and you fell back into the comfortable rhythm you shared
for you, todoroki was home
he was playing on the playground, falling asleep way past your bedtime beneath the starlights decorating your ceiling
for him, you were what it felt like to be understood, especially when his stoic demeanor and “blank” face led him to be considered the “dark and mysterious” resident bad boy, who was more likely to be admired and avoided rather than considered a real person with very real feelings
you could see past the stoic expressions in a heartbeat, and knew where to draw the line between a bad day at school and nearing a mental breakdown with memories from his past flooding his senses
you saw the moment his eyes withdrew, the moment he slipped out of the world around him and into one he’s constructed in his mind out of walls and barricades to keep everyone else out
you were the only one allowed a key to the door of that world, and only because you’d spent years constructing it yourself
you had become so reliant on each other in so many ways, but at this point, it barely registered
you shared a world, an atmosphere, a universe
you shared blankets, clothes, and dorm rooms too
half of your friendship is simply being there, because you’ve gone on so long you’re fully comfortable sitting in silence on the floor of his dorm room all afternoon, reading to yourself while he does his homework
you’ve snuck yourself out of his dorm after accidentally dozing off too many mornings to count
the rest of class 1-a is convinced you’re dating, or at least...you know....
todoroki can’t make fun of you, though, because we all know he’s falling asleep on your shoulder at every occasion you have a moment’s break
we also know he’s doing it when you’re busy too, cause this boi can sleep through anything
you share music the most, because you love lying next to him, your heads barely touching, as you share a world beyond your own, forced to think and feel the same as the musicians mold your mind and soul
so it’s not surprising at all to todoroki when you’re pounding on his door frantically at 1 am, your phone clutched in your hand as you shove an earbud in his face
he blinks the sleep out of his eyes as you invite yourself in, dragging him to sit beside you on his bed
“listen to this song,” you say, completely serious, with wide, intense eyes as you hold the earbud out to him, more gently this time
“o-okay,” he says, confused but not surprised 
you close your eyes as the song you spent the whole night falling in love with begins to play in your ear
I want to live, where soul meets body, and let the sun wrap its arms around me
as the song softly finishes, a melody softly soaring through my atmosphere, you open your eyes slowly, tears staining your cheeks as you look expectantly at your friend
his eyes are closed, in what you initially thought was focus, or, as in your case, peace and emotional vulnerability
but when they didn’t open, even as you tugged your headphones back, you realized it was, in fact, in sleep
angry you just shared what you thought was an emotional moment with an unconscious idiot, you slapped the boy awake, pouting as he looked at you in accusation 
“you were supposed to be listening,” you said, fuming
todoroki at least has the decency to look sheepish, but he doesn’t apologize, instead opting for a “it’s after one in the morning”
if he thought looks could kill before…
instead of yelling (like you want to), you shove the earbud (a bit harshly) back in his ear as you cue the song again
this time, you leave your eyes open, locking onto todoroki’s with a glare
you play the song, and it softly begins again, and this time, you’re watching his eyes closely to see his reaction (and to be sure there is one at all)
And I do believe it’s true, that there are roads left in both of our shoes
But if the silence takes you then I hope it takes me too
you see something flash in his eyes at that line, though you’re not sure if it’s your own tears returning once more as the beautiful words wash over you for the millionth time tonight
So brown eyes I’ll hold you near, cause you’re the only song I want to hear
todoroki tilts his head just slightly to the side, and you’re suddenly bombarded with the memory of his soft locks tickling your temple as you stare up at the stars, tiny fingers interlocked like your mom taught you to do when crossing the street
cause everything with todoroki felt like that, like crossing the street, like following your own roads that always intersected, were one and the same
a melody softly soaring through my atmosphere
and as the musician’s voice pierced your eardrums, you were met with the sounds of a thousand artists before him, the sounds of countless nights listening with your best friend, the sound of his voice as he counted down the numbers before hide and seek, the melodic sound of his voice as he woke you early after a night spent crashing on his floor
a melody softly soaring through my atmosphere
you didn’t realize the song was over until todoroki touched your face, and you let out a breath you hadn’t known you had been holding in
there’s a teasing smile on his face, but something in his eyes tells you the words changed him like they changed you
“just checking to make sure you didn’t fall asleep,” he says, before letting out a yawn, and you’re suddenly jolted back into reality, where you sat, on your best friend’s bed, in the middle of the night, sharing music like you always did
you’re up in a second, pulling your headphones to yourself frantically, blushing up a storm as you realize just what you had been thinking
“I have to go,” you stammer, and you’re running out of there stumbling as tears of embarrassment threaten to spill from your eyes
you make it all the way back to your dorm before you cry real tears, confused and upset by the way your best friend was making you feel
but jokes on you if you think you’re going to get away with leaving like that
you know todoroki like the back of your hand, but he knows you just the same, and when you wake the next morning, you know avoiding him is out of the question
he finds you quickly in the halls of the dorms, and you just let out a sigh as you greet him
“I really liked that song,” he says softly, slow to start the conversation you know is coming
so you sigh again, and look away, sheepish, a feeling completely alien to you around your closest friend flooding your veins
“I spent all night listening to that song alone,” you say, wringing your hands together, “thinking about what it would feel like to feel that way about a person, to know someone who cleanses you and makes you whole and makes your soul a part of you again”
“and then I heard it again while I was looking at your eyes, and I realized I already had that”
“it just scared me, that’s all, cause I’d never looked at you that way before”
he was silent through your confession, and you were terrified to look at him, knowing you’d know the second you saw him what he was thinking, and afraid you wouldn’t like what it was
“shou?” you finally ask, your voice breaking as you chance a glance in his direction
but you find his eyes gazing at you softly, a look you recognize as understanding on his face
he reaches for you, and you let him pull you in, your fingers intertwining as you’re brought in close
his free hand cups your cheek, and you lean into him, your lips brushing as you finally embrace
it’s like a sigh, a finally, and you feel like you’re breathing in air after being underwater for so long
you part so soon, and your foreheads are resting on one another, the familiar feeling of his soft hair tickling your skin making you giggle softly
you squeeze his hand, your eyes fluttering open until you’re gazing into his eyes, your noses brushing affectionately
a melody softly soaring through my atmosphere
Taglist: @anything-and-everything-here69​ @crystal-lilac​
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almostkoo · 4 years
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Seas the Day | Kim Seokjin
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pairings: kim seokjin x oc
summary:  oc is a marine biologist on a small expedition along the outskirts of the lake to collect samples, when a storm comes and washes the boat further out to sea, they find out their captain is a ocean dweller
word count: 1.7k
warnings: unedited, language, mentions of drowning, fisherman overalls
author’s notes: story three! of spooktober 2020, I’m happy to get this out I hope you guys enjoy this one too! I really hope that everyone knows that’s a pun as the title I am once again making an attempt at humor 
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The cool ocean air blew your hair around your face, soft strands dusting against your forehead. You sat back against in the chair behind the captain, Seokjin. The small expedition he had brought you on led to some nice algae and plankton samples. Sadly having to leave way before the sun was due to set because of a storm, in a way you were still at peace. You could always come back out there another day. But the samples you had were more than enough for your research.
The dark, grey skies overhead seem like they got darker and darker right before your eyes. Seokjin, stood in front of you. Soft pink hair peeking out from under his bucket hat, you stood up joining him, his eyebrows creasing as he focused on the waves in front of you.
“We’ll make it back to shore okay, right?” you asked, speaking up over the loud waves that rocked the boat.
“Of course! What type of sailor would I be if I didn’t?” laughed Seokjin. He glanced over at you quickly. “I’m sorry about your samples.”
You scoffed. “It’s fine I got enough to do what I have to do. If not I can always come back. It's no biggie.”
“I know it’s just .. I feel at fault for it. I wish the weather report was more reliable.” He sighed.
The waves started picking up, instead of rocking the boat Seokjin started struggling to gain control of the helm. You rocked back and forth, side stepping one way and then side stepping the other way trying to remain firm.
“Hold on to something! Quick!” Seokjin yelled.
You started slipping around losing your footing, grabbing at anything to hold you steady. Grabbing at Seokjin, grabbing at the edge of the chair where you were sitting. Water from the waves came inside of the small bridge making it impossible to properly grasp at anything. The door to the bridge blew open, the boat rocked harshly as Seokjin tried to steer away from it. You slipped falling right on your rear end, sliding out onto the deck. Your wet hair clung right to your forehead, temporarily blinding you. You pushed it back out your face. The slam of the deck against your back had you disoriented. Looking at Seokjin you could see he was trying to tell you something but you couldn’t make it out.
Slowly you stood up, still teetering. Seokjin looked back from the waves to you, yelling more stuff you couldn’t make out. You squinted trying to read his lips. As soon as you opened your mouth to respond a huge wave came and rocked the ship, causing you to stumble and flip right over the railing.
The water was cold. Just as it was this morning when you first got in to gather samples. You flailed around trying to swim up. The waves bounced you, your head bobbed around back and forth above the waves and back under. Constantly getting in short breaths of air and then your lungs filling up with water. The boat drifted further away and the last thing you saw before your arms gave out was Seokjin jumping into the water.
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You jumped awake whole body lurching forward. Taking in harsh breaths. Your head felt foggy, still dazed from going overboard. The boat was calm now. No longer rocking back and forth and no waves. The skies were still grey and ominous and you were expecting it to start pouring down again.
You don’t even know how you got back on board.
Your head whipped around the ship trying to find any signs of Seokjin. The boat didn’t feel like it was drifting, looking at the water you could tell you were moving in a certain direction. The constant stream of a jet coming from the back but yet you didn’t hear the motor. You stood up, walking to the back of the ship you were moving with caution. The closer you got you saw two hands gripping the side of the ship and what looked like a tail. A long pink tail that looked almost white in certain spots, the tail tapering off into skin. A small waist and broad shoulders. You didn’t recognize what you were seeing until your eyes reached the head of wet pink hair. You gasped loudly, stumbling backwards. When the head of pink hair looked up at you. Strong brows and round brown eyes looking at you, full lips parted in shock.
“Seokjin?” you asked, taking a step forward but jumping back when his head dipped back underwater. You were dumbfounded, looking around the ship as if someone else was there to witness this too.
“Seokjin, is that you?” you questioned. The pink head dipped back upwards. Seokjin sighed.
“This isn’t what it looks like.” he said. It coming off more of a question than a statement. You just looked at him speechless. Almost drowning must’ve really did it’s toll on you to have you hallucinating like this.
“I uh-. This must really be an odd hallucination. Unless I’m dead. Then this is just tragic.” you stated. Seokjin paused before speaking again.
“You-“ he started. “uh you’re alive.” he laughed, tail still whipping wildly behind him. Probably propelling the ship further the more you think about it.
“This is real? This is real. This can’t be. You have a tail!” you shouted.
“I know I have a tail! It was either risk you dying or outing myself. Would you rather have died?” Seokjin yelled.
“No but- How am I supposed to react to this?”
“I don’t know ? Thank you for saving my life? Something like that.”
You shook your head rubbing at your temples.
“Can I get some clarification? What’s going on? We’ve been on all these expeditions together and you mean to tell me I’ve been boating around with a mermaid and had no clue?” you said, hands sliding into the pocket of your overalls.
“In my defense I am busy trying to move the ship ya know since the engine died.” Seokjin moved one of his arms around gesturing to the ship. You looked at him stone faced waiting for him to respond.
“When you fell overboard naturally you would think I’d try to save you. But with the waves I couldn’t just swim to you.. I had to use my tail. I thought you weren’t going to wake back up until we got to the shore.” he stated. In a way you felt bad, for pressuring Seokjin to respond. But of course you’d have a million and one questions after seeing someone with a tail swimming in the water. You and Seokjin stared back and forth at each other for a moment, until the silence broke.
“So you’re not like a siren or anything are you?” you glanced down at Seokjin.
“No, I’m just a normal mermaid. Although I do know a few sirens and they’re not deviants or anything. If that’s what you are thinking.”
“So is this why you’re a sailor? To be closer to the water?” you say close to the railing where Seokjin was.
“Yeah. I left home a while ago. My parents passed and mermaids don’t really have big families like humans tend to. There wasn’t anything holding me to the ocean. I stay close for my friends they’re like brothers to me. They’re all I have now.” Seokjin said, a solemn tone overtaking his words.
“Well. Your secret's safe with me. I won’t go running around telling your secret. As much time as I spend near water they’d probably think I’ve hallucinated something.” you joked. Seokjin let out a soft laugh.
“You’d work out well on one of those Reddit forums. Talking about Bigfoot and the Lochness Monster.”
“Wait, is the Lochness Monster real?” you asked, peering at Seokjin. He looked at you, one eyebrow quirked up and lips turned.
“What do you think?” he asked. You gasped smacking your hands over your mouth.
“Are you serious?”
“Fuck no. I don’t even know where the Lochness Monster is from? Is that like Europe?”
“So you mean to tell me, you’re a sailor that doesn’t know about the Lochness Monster?”
“No, I mean to tell you I’m a mermaid who tries to stick to their side of the ocean and mind their business.” he winked at you, pushing the ship and swimming a little faster. You shook your head at him.
Can’t believe he doesn’t know if the Lochness Monster is real or fake.
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As the boat got closer to shore. You found yourself looking back and forth from how closer the shore got and how Seokjin didn’t seem like he was gonna get back on it.
“Y/n, if you look at me like that one more time.” Seokjin stated, sternly.
“When are you gonna get back in? Aren’t you worried people are gonna see you?”
“I’m about to get back in right now. Do me a favor and cover your eyes.” You instantly got confused.
“Why?”
“Do you wanna see me naked then?” You felt your cheeks get warm. You shook your head before covering your eyes. You heard water splash and the slapping of Seokjin’s feet against the deck. After a few moments Seokjin told you, you were free to uncover your eyes.
Seokjin was back dressed in his rubber overalls, shirt and jacket.
“Here’s the story. Storm knocked the engine out. No nothing about you almost drowning and of course nothing about you know what.” Seokjin directed.
“Okay. Yeah of course. A secret for a secret.” you nodded.
“You might have to switch and find a new captain afterwards. I might not be able to man the ship after this I don’t want it to be awkward.” You scoffed, standing up to hit Seokjin’s arm.
“Don’t be silly. We’re in this until I retire now. I can’t go into these waters with another human. What if something like today happened again and the person I’m with can’t swim well or half as good as you. Oh no no, Kim Seokjin you’re my partner on the water now.” you smiled, holding up a pinky. Seokjin laughed, wrapping his pinky back around yours.
“If you say so. I never wanna get caught in a storm ever again. Worst experience since I had to grow legs.” Seokjin let out a sigh before fixing his hat. Your eyes threatened to bug out of your head.
“Wait since you what ?” Seokjin looked over at you, before cringing.
“Oh no you can’t say a sentence like that and then leave it at that. I need this story immediately.”
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perspective-series · 5 years
Text
Lilliputian Perspective (1)
By: @arc852 and @hiddendreamer67
Warnings: Fear, panic, lying, stealing and almost drowning.
(Check the reblog for the links to any future chapters)
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Logan gaped like a fish, floundering about on the deck as the storm threatened to overtake their tiny vessel. Another wave came over the side, dousing Logan in the salty spray and threatening to drag him back into the depths with it.
“Look alive, men!” The captain cried out, attempting to navigate them through the wretched waters. The sky above was in turmoil, dark and ominous as though warning them they never should have dared come upon the sea this day. 
A crack of lightning lit up the air, revealing the crew of seamen scuttering about like lost penguins surrounded by a pack of sea lions waiting to swallow them whole. For indeed, that was what the sea had become- one by one she began to pick unsuspecting sailors up and toss them over the rail, her bloodlust never satisfied.
And unfortunately, it seemed Logan was destined to share a similar fate. With a startled yell he felt himself pulled over the edge, miraculously tossed to the surface once more.
“Gulliver!” One of his colleagues called out, but Logan could not make out who it was in the darkness of the storm. He struggled to stay afloat as it was, finding solace in a piece of driftwood torn from the ship.
“Help!” Logan cried out, watching with growing dread as he was tugged further and further away. “Man overboard!”
Whether the crew heard him was of little consequence now; for better or worse Logan was at the mercy of the waves. He sputtered along, every so often finding himself drenched once more as wave after rocky wave crashed above his head. What was he going to do? He was adrift in the middle of the ocean, in the middle of a storm, with no ship in sight, and far from any… land?
Logan paused, feeling his feet touch sand. Perhaps he had merely stumbled across a sandbar by luck, but Logan knew that this was not a structure that would form on its own. If Logan could touch here, land could not be far off. 
Coughing up a bit of seawater, Logan tried to look around, disoriented as he continued to swim. It felt like several hours had passed since he was sent adrift, and by now the scientist was exhausted. As if to finally show mercy it seemed the storm had decided to die down, and in the pale grey light, Logan spotted a tiny island in the distance.
Spurred on by the sight, Logan used his last bout of adrenaline to paddle to the shore. When he finally made it, Logan walked several paces inland to ensure that if the storm returned he would not be taken back to see.
“Shelter,” Logan muttered. “I need… shelter…”
But he felt too exhausted to find a proper shelter. Letting his emotions overcome him, Logan simply laid down in the surprisingly soft grass and wondered if he would ever wake again.
 Roman wrapped the scarf tighter around himself, making sure no one could make out his face. He didn’t need to be recognized. Not in this section of town. 
 Stomach grumbling, Roman slid past a fruit stand and when the owner’s back was turned, grabbed an apple and walked away. When he was far enough, he smiled and took a bite. He loved the thrill of taking something, even if sometimes it was so easy.
 “Stop! Thief!” Okay, maybe he spoke too soon. Roman turned around to see a number of the castle guards running toward him. He cursed and took off running. They must have recognized him, which wasn’t good.
 Roman tried to lose them through the crowd but they were keeping up with him pretty well, despite having to disturb several innocent people in the process. Roman continued to run and weave his way through the market square, deciding to run into the incoming forest.
 He heard the guards following, but with so many trees and all his weaving, they started to sound farther away. Until suddenly, he couldn’t hear them anymore. He came to a stop and grinned. If they kept sending men like that, they were never gonna catch him.
 He continued to walk more into the woods, knowing what lay beyond the other side. A nice trip to the seaside sounded like a good idea. Besides, he always found a few pieces of treasure worth keeping or selling in the sand.
 He came up to the cliffside, looking down and out towards the sand and sea. But all his thoughts halted when he noticed what lay upon the sand.
 Was...was that an actual giant. Like-like in all the stories? Roman couldn’t believe his eyes. But the image didn’t go away as he rubbed at them. No, the giant was still there, clear as day.
 If Roman was anyone else, he probably would have run off and told someone.
 But he wasn’t anyone else and instead he found himself sliding down the cliff with practiced ease, carefully coming up next to the giant. Was it even alive? How long had it even been here? He gripped and tugged at the thing’s tunic, before deciding to hell with it and started to climb up the massive body.
 He made it up on to the chest and looked at the giant’s face. “...Hello?” He called out cautiously. Half of him was hoping the giant was in fact dead. Because the last thing he needed was the thing to come alive and eat him.
Logan let out a groan, feeling the sun beating down on him as he lay still. How long had he been asleep? He should probably get up, get some shelter, get some food, and yet...his bones still ached so terribly. Not to mention, he was clearly seasick as well, if he was already hearing voices.
 As the giant groaned and started to move, Roman’s eyes widened. So it was alive...oh heck no. Okay, maybe it would be a good idea to get out of here before the thing was fully awake. Yeah, he was gonna do that. He started to move towards the edge, but an especially heavy breath caused the chest to rise too much and caused Roman to become unbalanced and fall. “Whoa!” He cried as he rolled a bit and fell onto his back.
Logan tensed, feeling a weight on his chest and hearing that voice again. Slowly Logan opened his eyes, squinting in the bright sun before looking down at his chest.
Logan’s eyes widened. Was that…? Surely it couldn’t be. A man, standing no larger than Logan’s own hand was resting upon his chest.
“Surely I’m delusional.” Logan murmured, reaching up with his left arm to see if his claims were true.
 Roman’s head snapped up at the voice and his eyes widened as he realized the giant was actually looking at him. He scrambled to his feet but then noticed the hand, the giant-sized hand, coming right for him. “N-No!” Roman booked it, trying to make it towards the edge of the giant once again so he could get off this thing.
Logan tensed, feeling the peculiar sensation of tiny boots running across his body.
“Now wait just a moment!” Logan quickly blocked off the man’s path with his arm, propping himself up on his other elbow so his neck did not need to bend down so terribly low.
 “Ah!” Roman screeched to a halt before he could run into the arm, blocking his path. He turned to face the giant for but a moment, before taking off in the other direction, towards the other side.
“Stop that!” Logan scolded, moving his hand to gather up the little man in a fist.
 “H-Hey!” Roman cried, struggling as the giant got his hand on him. “Release me, you beast!”
“Beast?” Logan supposed that would make sense, given the man’s stature he must appear rather ghastly in comparison. “I am no beast.” Logan brought the man closer, entranced by his animated tiny features. The way Logan could feel his peculiar little struggles only solidified the fact this was no delusion. Or if it was, it was a rather detailed one.
“Who are you?” Logan questioned. “What were you doing on my chest?”
 Roman struggled even more as he was brought closer to the giant’s face. Closer to his mouth. He shivered at the idea of being eaten. Hopefully, he could escape before that happened. “I-I should be asking you such things!”
“Perhaps, but I asked you first.” Logan reminded the man. Though he was clearly cowering, it must have taken tremendous courage for him to stand up to Logan. The scientist was not yet sure if that was a good thing.
 He supposed the giant had him there. “Well, I am a Lilliputian. And I was trying to see if you were still alive or not.” Roman spoke, trying his best to keep the fear out of his voice. He thinks it was working, he was a pretty good actor after all. “Now, who are you? Why are you here? And I demand that you let me go!”
“I don’t think you are in a position to be making demands,” Logan said, his tone more observational than threatening. He sat up fully, noting the forest to his left with trees that were only just taller than his head when sitting straight. How peculiar- then perhaps everything was to scale with this funny little man here? A lilliputian, he had called himself.
“My name is Logan Gulliver, and I became shipwrecked here during the storm last night,” Logan explained.
 “Storm?” That was strange, he didn’t remember there being a storm last night. Roman narrowed his eyes. “Likely story, beast. You’re here to terrorize us, aren’t you!”
“Why would I do that?” Logan sighed, still far too tired for this sort of nonsense. “No, I assure you, I mean you no harm. Are all the people here your size, by chance?”
 Roman looked at him strangely. “Of course they are! Why wouldn’t they be?”
“Well, take a look at my own stature,” Logan argued. “It can be reasonably assumed that I am used to a population that’s of my size and not yours. You are the first ‘lilliputian’ I have ever seen, and quite frankly if I was not seeing you myself I would believe it to be impossible.”
 Roman’s eyes widened. “You’re saying there are more giants!” His eyes narrowed. “Well...if you are really telling the truth, about not planning to harm us, why have you not let me go yet?” Roman asked. Not buying into anything this giant was saying.
“I am still fascinated, I admit,” Logan said. “But regardless, that does not negate my claim, as I have not harmed you within my grasp. Aside from perhaps a mild heart attack, but you were the one who invaded my personal space and tried to wake me first.”
 “Yet. You haven’t hurt me yet.” Roman pointed out. After all, he was currently at this giant’s mercy. He could do whatever with him and Roman wouldn’t be able to stop him. “There is no way for me to know your true intentions.”
“Fair enough, think what you will.” In any case, Logan did not feel the need to try and convince the Lilliputian otherwise, especially when there were more pressing matters at hand. “Then perhaps you can assist me, and then I will let you go. Do you know where the nearest body of freshwater is? I’m terribly parched.”
 Yeah, that did nothing to calm Roman’s fears. And he didn’t think for one second that he would be released but...maybe if he did lead him to some water, he could escape while he was distracted. “...There is a freshwater pond just around that hill over that way.” Roman said, pointing in the near distance.
Logan started to stand up, peeking just over the edge of the trees to try and spot the pond the lilliputian mentioned. Rising a bit further, Logan noticed what appeared to be a miniature town just on the other edge of the forest. Of course, Logan now realized that it was just to the little man’s scale and perhaps ‘miniature’ was not at all the correct term. 
“Is that a castle?” Logan observed, going higher to try and view the kingdom within the distance, his curiosity growing.
 Roman’s eyes widened as he remembered the kingdom was not far from here and if Logan was seen...that meant he would be found as well. “Get down!” He yelled suddenly.
“What?” Strangely, Logan felt complied to listen to the command as he ducked beneath the treeline one more. He looked down at the figure in his hand, perplexed. “What for?”
 “You can’t have anyone seeing you. I would-I mean, you would cause a mass panic!” Roman explained himself.
“Oh, I suppose you’re right.” Logan winced. He hadn’t taken his size into account. While he could easily overpower one sassy Lilliputian, having an entire army after him would be quite troublesome. Certainly then Logan would have to go around the forest, as there was no easy way for him to maneuver between the trees on his hands and knees. 
Logan sighed, realizing that this would also make it incredibly difficult to carry the Lilliputian along. Though Logan did not intend on keeping the man captive, he certainly would prefer to have an ally on his side who knew the way of this world if Logan expected to survive.
“If I set you down, would you mind leading me to the pond?” Logan requested. 
 Roman tried to keep himself from looking too happy at this notion. If he was put down, he could certainly escape far easier. But he had to play it cool. “Fine.” He huffed.
“Alright.” Logan relented. “But I implore you not to go running off. Not only is it terribly rude, but I imagine I could catch you with ease.”
 Roman felt a shiver run through him at that. Well...he could just wait until he was distracted. Like he originally planned. “I won’t.” He sighed.
“Thank you.” With that settled, Logan placed the Lilliputian down on the ground, giving him a head start as even crawling Logan knew his strides would be much larger.
 Roman was very thankful to be back on solid ground. He took the time to dust himself off and look himself over before looking towards the giant. “Follow me, I guess.” He started off the long way towards the pond.
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I had this whole elaborate story in my head that I just had to write and kinda went a little overboard... Sorry it’s long 😅 Hope you enjoy! xx
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Dangerous Fellows Christmas Event
Harry POV x Reader
Angst / Fluff
💍 I  Post-Apocalypse
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It has been around two months since the zombies became less and less of a major threat. The safe zone has quickly grown to become an amazing community. High sturdy walls encircle our ever-expanding oasis. Armed guards secure the perimeter, keeping any and all zombies at bay from entering our vicinity. While food came abundant with the consistent supply runs and newly thriving agriculture.
To think, not too long ago were we mourning the countless amounts of bloodshed from friend after friend; to now, where death has become more of a rare occurrence. Things actually seemed to be looking up for the future of our society. Things finally seemed to be looking up… for us.
How naïve I was.
My head hangs low, tears dropping silently upon her cold lifeless hand within my palms.
Here, (Y/N) lies still — timeless and untouched.
.
“Ready to head off?”
“Mmm…” (Y/N) groans as she rubs the sleepiness from her eyes.
“You sure you wanna come? I’m just making a quick stop to grab a couple of things from zone 2.”
“I’m coming.” Wrapping her arms around me from behind, she yawns loudly before nuzzling her face against my back. “You know I don’t like it when you go out there alone…”
I chuckle lightly, turning around to embrace her properly and placing a quick peck upon her lips — hoping to ease into her good graces as I attempt to convince her to stay home. “Get some more sleep! I’ll be fine. Plus, I won’t be alone; the guards would’ve been patrolling around there for hours already anyways.”
“Please?” She looks up, staring at me with wide puppy dog eyes — swaying my heart immediately.
“Alright, alright. You win.” I pat her head gently, giving in to her wishes.
“Yay! Lemme go grab my bag!”
My gaze follows after her cheerful form, now fully awake and energetic as per usual while I sigh quietly to myself — shaking my head in defeat.
Looks like I’ll need to be stealthy when grabbing things after all...
Fiddling with the chain around my neck, I take out my mother’s ring from beneath my shirt — smiling at the thought of it decorated upon (Y/N)’s finger.
Today’s the day, Harry. It’s now or never.
.
Entering into the convenience store within zone 2, the second area out of 4 zones to have been cleared, I quickly make a mental note of all of the supplies I needed to gather for tonight.
“Well, I’m off to get some snacks! You coming with?” She beams excitedly.
As much as I’d hate to separate right now, despite how safe it’s been lately, I need to make sure she doesn’t suspect anything. Everything needs to be perfect.
“Sure, I’m just gonna grab a couple things over here first and then I’ll meet you soon. Got your knife?”
“Yup!” (Y/N) exclaims before comically exaggerating a curtsy. “Now excuse me, kind Sir. The snacks await my presence.”
“Of course, Milady. You mustn’t keep them waiting.” I play along with a bow.
She giggles light-heartedly, disappearing into one of the aisles near the entrance while I make my way towards the back of the store.
Candles… Candles...
My eyes scan through each passing aisle, before finally finding a couple of scattered scented candles upon the shelves. Shoving as many of them into my bag as possible, I quickly leave to head back to (Y/N) before she questions my prolonged absence.
Making my way toward the snack aisle, I hear a slight squelch beneath my shoe.
Water?
No… Blood.
My heart begins to pump as my eyes trace my bloodied footsteps back to a small puddle of red peeking out from an aisle.
One of the guards must’ve taken one out this morning…
Walking over to confirm my assumption, I nearly stumble back from shock as I’m met with the image of flesh completely devoured from one side of a guard’s face. Crowbar gripped tightly in hand; I immediately impale his head to prevent him from turning on me. I lower my weapon, hands shaken with adrenaline.
Wait… If this guard’s been attacked… where’s the other…
Before I could finish my thought, (Y/N)’s scream echoes through the building.
My heart drops.
I sprint as fast as I can, halting in my tracks as the other guard lay unconscious upon the ground — knife wedged deep within his skull.
“Harry?”
My head snaps toward her voice, dread filling up in the pit of my stomach. I watch in horror as (Y/N) staggers back onto the shelves, clutching her shoulder tightly as pools of blood flood down her arm.
I felt numb. I couldn’t feel my legs.
Every fibre in my body screamed at me to run to her, to hold her. But my body stood frozen in place as I watched my world come crashing down. It wasn’t until she whimpered my name again that I broke out of my trance and ran over to her to catch her, right as she collapsed onto the ground.
“(Y/N)… N-No… How did… W-Wha-”
“Harry…” Her voice weakening by the second while her temperature rapidly rises within my arms.
“W-We need to get you back! You’re burning up!”
I attempt to lift her, but she begins to scream in agony — stopping my actions immediately and leaving me at a loss of what to do.
“Harry… You need to… kill me… Quick!”
“NO! WE’RE GOING BACK! They’ll know what to do, they can fix you. Everything will be fine!”
“Harry, please! You’ll die… if you… don’t.”
“I’M NOT KILLING YOU! I’D RATHER DIE THEN KILL YOU! Don’t… Don’t ask me to do that! I can’t…” I begin to sob uncontrollably, misery and despair taking over.
(Y/N) reaches up, gently caressing away the never-ending tears escaping my eyes as her own are filled with nothing but love and affection toward me.
“Harry… I love you so much.”
My heart throbs — a kind of throb I’d never felt before. The words that used to fill my heart, now caused me such pain it feels almost agonizing to hear.
“I love you too, (Y/N). More than anything.”
She smiles dearly, silent tears glistening from the edges of her beautiful (e/c) eyes as her face grows pale. Caressing her bloodstained cheek, I kiss her forehead before wrapping her up within my arms and whimpering against her hair.
“You’re my everything… You’re my everything under the sun. You’re my rock, my home. It doesn’t matter where we are; when you’re by my side, I’m whole.”
She is the one thing I’ve always been so sure of. Never had I felt so sure of anything in my whole life, than what I was about to do right now.
Grabbing hold of the chain around my neck, I grip my mother’s ring tight before ripping it off of me — small pieces of metal scattering across the floor.
I take (Y/N)’s left hand in mine, burning determination in my eyes as hers look back, wide with shock.
“Wait.”
“For as long as I’ve known you, I knew you were the one. There’s nothing in this world that would make me happier, than your hand in marriage. So please, would you do me the honour-”
“Harry, please…”
“Of being my wife?”
Ignoring her pleas, I slowly lift her hand. Hands shaking violently as I struggle to place the ring upon her finger. Though my vision blurs from the overwhelming tears glazing my eyes, I was determined to follow through. However, (Y/N)’s soft, blood-soaked hands wrap around mine as she gently encloses the ring within my palm.
Heartbroken and confused, I look back up at her; only to be met with a sense of hopelessness.
Her quivering lips accompanied unbearably sad eyes that only seemed to convey what I dreaded most. She didn’t speak a word, but I knew what she was thinking. As much as we wished for it to be so, it’s clear we could no longer be together.
Cupping the side of my face, she smiles fondly through tears that never ceased to fall. “Kiss… me?”
I couldn’t help but bawl from her pure-hearted request as I lean down to meet her lips one last time.
“I’m… sorry, Harry. I love… you.” She whispers against my lips — her hand falling from my face.
“No… Please (Y/N). I can’t lose you too.” My voice, weak with vulnerability.
Rubbing my forehead with hers, my tears fall upon her rested face as her body goes limp within my arms.
“Don’t leave me.”
I held her body dear against mine for what felt like an eternity, screaming and pleading for her to wake up.
But she never did.
Nor did she ever turn.
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Days pass, yet nothing has changed.
No one knew why or how it was possible, but here she lay — surrounded by the flowers we used to tend together, never awakening as a zombie, yet never decaying like a corpse. It was… as if she was simply within a deep slumber.
Night after night, I sit by her side; wishing and praying she’d open her eyes and greet me with that breath-taking smile once more.
“It’s so lonely not hearing your voice…” 
Her face showed no sign of ever waking, she seemed so at peace.
Every day was a struggle to keep going, but I didn’t give up. Every day, I fight against the grief that screams at me to let her go, to move on.
“Time moves so slow without you; each day feels like a test of my patience.”
I sit, lonesome within the darkness with only the moonlight illuminating the room — casting a silver sheen upon her face. I missed her so much I found myself talking to her each night, but her lack of response almost made it too excruciatingly painful to handle at times.
“When will you wake up? I just… want to be with you. There’s still so much that I want to do. Build a family with you… grow old with you. To love you, forever and always…”
A single tear falls along my cheek as another night goes by without her glowing presence.
“I miss you. Please… come back to me.”
Hand in hand, my mother’s ring pressed between our palms, I fall asleep by her bedside as I do every night — dreaming of a future worth fighting for.
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Weeks pass, and hope has finally presented itself.
Recently, news has begun to spread throughout the community that a vaccine began rounds of testing and was on its way to being developed. A promising start to the end of the apocalypse.
I didn’t care much for the reasons as to why (Y/N) ended up this way, all I knew was that this news gave me hope. Hope that felt abandoned since the moment I thought I had lost her forever.
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Months pass, and a cure has finally been developed with a 100% success rate.
Once administered, the vaccine takes effect immediately and the person goes right back to normal, all memories in-tact — as if nothing had even happened.
Today, our community was delivered a limited amount of the vaccine, and I was graciously given the pleasure of being the first to administer the cure due to my outstanding efforts in rebuilding our society. A society worth welcoming (Y/N) back to.
I stand eagerly by the door, a smile upon my face for the first time in what seemed like years.
The door swings open as the representative of our community steps in, vaccine in hand — a warm fatherly smile upon his face as he places the vile within my palms. I stare at it in disbelief, tears glazing my eyes as I draw out the liquid into a syringe.
Inhaling deep, I grip her arm tight and inject the vaccine directly into her vein. Hand tightly gripped in mine, I monitor her face — anticipating the light within those gorgeous (e/c) irises to come to life once again.
Minutes go by, and yet she showed absolutely no sign of waking.
“They said it takes effect immediately… Why isn’t she waking up?!” I turn back, hands trembling with rage.
“Harry, I’m so sor-”
“No… No, no, NO!”
I cut him short, not wanting to hear the pity within his words. Desperation quivering within my voice, I plead as I stare down at her lifeless body — unable to meet his sympathetic gaze. “I need another one… Please!”
“Harry, (Y/N)’s case is pretty unusual; they’ve only been able to test and cure those who became zombies… (Y/N) never exactly changed.” He pauses for a moment, hesitation in his tone as he places a reassuring hand upon my shoulder. “It’s been months. I’m… I’m afraid it might be too lat-”
“NO! You’re wrong! It’ll work! She just… she just needs another dose!” Flinching away from his touch, I slide a chair over to sit beside her.
“We’re limited as it is… You know we can’t do that.”
Holding her hand softly, I place her cold palm upon my cheek – droplets falling upon her pale fingers.
“She’s all that I have left…” I whimper helplessly.
“I really am sorry, Harry.” He makes his way toward the door, pausing slightly to look back at my crestfallen form. “I’ll… be in my office if you need me.”
As soon as the door clicks closed, I sob in silence. Face nestled upon her stomach; I grip the sheets around her hopelessly — staining the fabric with my tears.
“Why? Why bother?! I just… wanted you to see the world as it grows more and more beautiful after overcoming such an ugly situation. What’s the point in working so hard to build a future worth living, if you’re not going to see it?”
The uncontrollable emotion eating at me was too overwhelming to bear. The faith I once held so dear, crumbled within my grasp. I cried and cried ‘til I lost all sense of hope, lying upon her lifeless body as my eyes fall heavy with exhaustion.
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Mmm, so soothing…
This warm touch felt almost too real to be true. Soft, gentle fingers comb through my hair as I lay resting upon her. I feel the rays of the sun streaming through the window, lightly kissing the side of my face as her body emanates warmth beneath me. It had been a while since I last dreamed of such a serene and comforting scene, despite crying myself to sleep the night prior.
“Harry…”
Why? Why would you remind me?
Hearing her call my name only pained me more. This dream almost felt cruel for allowing me to revive and indulge in her softly, sweet voice — knowing full well that when I awoke, she’d be there; still and lifeless as ever.
“Harry…” She calls again. The honey-like quality of her voice, like music to my ears.
It was so clear. So lifelike. So… heartbreaking.
My eyes flutter open, forcefully escaping myself from the false scene within my mind.
Or so I thought.
As my vision adjusts to the sudden brightness of the sun, the calming feel of feather-like caresses within my hair never seemed to disappear. My eyes shoot wide open and sure enough, there she was; sitting up with that adoring smile of hers as she takes my hand in hers and squeezes it tight.
“Good morning, Harry.”
It wasn’t a dream. This was real. She’s awake.
She’s… alive!
Hot tears sting my newly awakened eyes, streaming along my cheeks as I stare at her in disbelief.
Every night, I had so much I wanted to say to her. So much I wanted her to know.
And now here she was. Yet, I couldn’t utter a single word.
It was all too much, I didn’t know how else to convey these fervent feelings. I cup her face, hands shaky with hesitation. Her skin felt warm against my palm, indicating she was indeed alive and well. Before my mind could even comprehend my actions, I crash my lips upon hers as gently as I could handle — kissing her with all the passion and longing I had suppressed for so long. She grips the front of my shirt, pulling me closer and reciprocating all the love and devotion we shared.
No longer able to keep my composure, I break the kiss; face scrunching up in overwhelming emotion as I burst out crying. (Y/N) holds me tight within her arms, allowing me to bask within her returning presence.
“Harry?” She calls once more, her tone as warm and gentle as I’d remembered it.
“Yes?” I finally manage to reply.
She breaks her hold on me, gracefully enveloping my fingers with hers as she looks me right in the eye.
“I don’t know how long it’s been. Or how it’s even possible that I’m able to speak with you once more. But what I do know, is that I don’t want to take this time for granted and give up this chance again.”
She reaches out toward the bedside table, carefully holding my mother’s ring within her hand before placing it into my palm and enclosing my fingers around it, like she did that one fateful day.
“I promise… to always be with you from this day forward. To create and nurture a loving family together. To stay right by your side and grow old with you as time intended. I promise, with all my heart, that I will love you, forever and always.”
I don’t believe it. She could hear me after all this time…
“I promise… I won’t ever leave you alone again. So, Harry… will you marry me?”
My eyes go wide with surprise, pausing for a moment — never thinking mere words could bring me such an immense sense of happiness. Lips curling up from ear to ear, I laugh wholeheartedly with utmost joy.
“I will... Of course, I will!”
I hastily wrap her within my arms and squeeze her tight with overwhelming excitement before placing my lips upon hers once more. I kiss her again, and again, and again ‘til her melodic giggles reverberate against my lips with glee. As I withdraw my mother’s ring from within my palm, (Y/N) places her left hand in mine and I delicately slip the ring upon her finger. We both stare at it for a while, hearts elated with pure happiness at the thought of starting a new chapter within our lives.
Together, hand in hand. Forever and always.
For the rest of our days.
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x mod luna
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darksunrising · 5 years
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Sola Gratia (6/?)
Masterlist
Rating / Warnings : General audiences, no particular warnings.
Fandom : Bram Stoker’s Dracula, BBC’s Dracula, various Dracula and vampire lore.
Part 6/? (3370 words)
Author’s notes : After a small break, here is part 6 of Sola Gratia ! It’s technically the first chapter of the second part, but I’ll number them continuously to not be confusing !
Hope you all enjoy !
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“Thank you for your compelling conclusion to this seminar, professor Rieder. I would like, once again, to thank all whose interventions have made these few days a most instructive and enlightening event. Now, for the part all of us have been waiting for since this morning, I will see you at the buffet next room over.”
Scattered laughter and clapping closed my statement. A growing buzz filled the room, and I contained a sigh of relief. Turning off my headset, I laid it on the table next to me, giving a few awkward smiles to the eminent researchers still at my side. I focused my attention on the familiar face sitting front row, shoving her scattered notes in her bag. One smile of hers would have stopped a cyclone, and thus I melted inside when she hurried to meet me, pulling me in a bear hug. She was so tiny she couldn’t raise me past tiptoes. I closed my eyes, hugging her back. Her hair smelled like coconut oil, and lavender. She pushed back, still holding my shoulders.
“That was great, see, told you you’d kill it !”, she exclaimed, eyes glimmering with joy.
“Leaaaaah, stop it, you’ll make me believe it”, I replied, letting my head fall back. “I still have to hear from Laurent.”
“Heh, speak of the Devil !”, she taunted, her eyes set somewhere over my shoulder.
Laurent, my thesis coordinator for the past two years, was not a cheerful type person. He was six feet tall, salt more than pepper hair, neatly trimmed, the mustache always curled at the tip, and small, golden rimmed glasses. On anyone else, he might have looked like a nice grandpa. However, his strict demeanor and constantly furrowed eyebrows denoted an uncompromising attitude, which had proven a challenge in my research and field work. I was all the more taken aback by the huge grin plastered on his face as he came over to firmly shake my hands in his.
“Excellent work, Eris. I couldn’t be more satisfied !”, he bellowed. “You will have to come take a drink with us now, I won’t have you escape this time !”
If you weren’t used to his manners, he might seem a bit blunt, even abrasive, but his comment made me smile. I nodded, and he left me after a friendly pat on the shoulder, still having me stumble. Leah was almost vibrating with excitation, as per usual. Where she found her energy, I’d never know. She took hold of my arm, and practically dragged me to the reception room. The committee spared no expense, as the whole seminar had been financed by an anonymous donator, who had been more than generous with his funding. As we got in, we were greeted by a groom, holding a plate of champagne glasses. A bit over the top, if you asked me. Still, I was  on par with the standing of the venue, the National Museum of Natural History. It was huge, old, and honestly, so stuffy in the scientific department I had to think twice before I accepted to coordinate the seminar.
I had taken a million years finding an outfit that wouldn’t clash with the tone, and wouldn’t have me looking like a talking toad in a bowtie. Leah looked great as always, her long, strawberry blonde locks bouncing freely on her shoulders, wearing a perfectly tailored bustier pantsuit. she could have worn a sack of potatoes and looked better than me, still awkwardly trying to walk in a straight line with the pair of stilettos she bought for me. Still, I’d rather suffer the little mermaid’s martyr than disappoint her.
She grabbed two glasses for us, and had a few steps back, guiding me further into the center of the room. She handed me my glass, and held up hers.
“To the first of many symposiums saved from death by your exceptional organizational skills”, she stated.
“To the only reason I didn’t panic and make a fool of myself for three consecutive days, Leah Fox”, I threw back at her.
We toasted, and took a sip. The room was packed. Still enough room to actually breathe, but I never were one for social situations of that type. Of any type, really. As soon as that glass was empty, I would beg Leah to get back to her place, which was, thankfully, close-by. I’d have to almost get across the whole city if I were to go back to mine, and in the state of exhaustion I was in, no way that was happening.
“Hey, don’t look- Do not ! - but there’s a guy looking at you from over there”, Leah told me.
I kept my eyes on her obediently, as she seemed to study said man. She had a look of mischief in her eyes that  announced trouble with a thousand golden horns. I indulged her.
“Well, will you at least tell me what this Mystery Admirer looks like ?”, I enquired.
“He’s your type, I gotta say. Tall, dark and handsome, you know ?”, she started, being less and less discreet about her staring. “Oh, and he knows how to dress, I have to ask where he found his tie pin- Oh, fuck, he saw me, abort mission !”
She winced, knowing full well we couldn’t just run away like schoolgirls. Not if we wanted to keep some form of good reputation among the dozens of career-relevant academics chatting all around us. Seeing her head gradually lift up, I sighed, and prepared myself to get some human interaction. I put on my best fake smile, and turned around.
“Eris Cetero, I have been dying to meet you again.”
All sounds faded. Heart sinking into my stomach, I barely even heard the crystalline sound of the champagne glass as it broke between my fingers. I barely heard Leah’s cry of surprise, or felt the warmth of the blood gushing from my palm. I only saw the red around ocean blue eyes, and a split-second, sharp smile.
My knees gave out under me, his arm slipped around my waist, catching me before all lights faded, blown out like candles in the wind.
~-~-~
Muffled sounds of chatter were my first perception. Then, right after, a burning sensations from my nose to my lungs, that made me choke. 
“Eris ? Are you awake ?”, Leah’s worried voice came to my ears before the golden halo of her hair above me. I could only respond with a pained groan.
“I should hope so, this is very potent”, a silky, deep voice commented outside my limited field of vision.
“I know, but no offense, who carries smelling salts on them in 2020 ?”
“I do, and they proved useful, did they not ?”
She sounded cheerful, as she always did. Every sentence he uttered had the effect of a sledgehammer to my chest. I tried to sit up, and leaning on my had me crying out in pain.
“You’re injured !”, she exclaimed, laying me back down, a hand over my chest. “Just rest a little, will you ?”
“Leah, you have to leav-”, I tried to warn her, too faintly for her to even notice I spoke.
She turned her attention back to him. “Tell me, Professor Balaur, you were about to tell me how you met our faint-hearted friend ?”
Professor ? That didn’t sound right, by all accounts. I couldn't get rid of a faint ringing in my ear. Spots of light danced before my eyes. I had to do something. My heart was almost beating out of my chest. The back of his eyes caught the light just a second. Sharp teeth flashed before my eyes, as they had been embedded in my brain for the past two months, every time I spent too long, staring in the shadows.
“Please, call me Vlad. You do well to remind me, it is a good story.”
His voice was sickeningly sweet. Leah didn’t mind, seemingly genuinely interested in what he had to say, leaning into the palm of her hand, propped up on her elbow. Fighting through the numbness, I decidedly sat up.
“Leah, we have to leave”, I snapped, ignoring her protests. “Now.”
“You don’t seem well enough to go on your own”, the Count stated, his silky voice not helping with my nausea. “I could give you a ride, I have my car parked here.”
“Well, I live nearby, so we can manage”, she began. “But... Considering her state, I would love the help. You’d have my eternal gratitude, and I’ll invite you in for a cup of tea !”
Invite you in. No. No way. Not her.
“I have to go home !”, I blurted out. “I… haven’t fed Zardoz this morning and he’ll- he'll wreak havoc if I don’t.”
Leah gave me a puzzled look. She knew I was lying. She could always tell. She didn’t understand why, but she wouldn’t ask. She trusted me. I promised myself I would tell her, at some point. If I had no other choice.
“Well then, you can’t take the bus in that state”, the Count commented. “For my peace of mind, would you let me take you home ?”
No, absolutely not. He kept his gaze locked on mine. I couldn’t let him anywhere near Leah. Never mind me, she had to be safe.
“Alright”, I yielded. “Go home, Leah, I’ll be fine. I just need a second to get my bearings, I'll be fine with...” I felt like I had to swallow bile. “With Vlad.”
She hesitated, and I gave her the best smile I could muster. She agreed to take her leave, after making me promise to call her as soon as I got home. Scribbling my address on the back of her visit card, she handed it to the Count, and planted a kiss on my forehead. With a last wave, just like that, she left. I couldn’t contain a sigh of relief. A gloved hand appeared in my field of vision.
“If you think I’m coming with you, you’re even more insane than I thought”, I snapped at him, not giving him the satisfaction of eye contact.
“Oh, Eris. Let’s not pretend like there is any other outcome to this situation.”
No matter how much I hated it, he was right. I gave him my arm, and saw his hand twitch as it brushed against the bandages. Leah had gone so overboard I could barely flex my fingers, but on the flip side, no blood seeped through. I wondered how he managed not to go feral when the cuts were still fresh. He took hold of my briefcase, and we left.
Trying to dissociate myself as much as I could from the situation, I barely could make sense of my surroundings as the Count guided me to the outside. I heard myself say goodbye to Laurent as we passed him, giving a bullshit explanation as to why I was leaving with him. The word “date” was thrown around, which I’d have to be angry about later. I focused on not snapping my ankles on the stairs. Curse high heels and feminine fashion standards.
We crossed one of the side doors at the entrance, and stepped outside. For a second, the night’s fresh air made me feel better. The large street, occupied only by a grassy railway, was lit by the orange glow of street lamps. In my fuzzy mind, It looked like a Van Gogh, a blur of light and colors, and the faint sound of the wind rustling into the trees. A welcome silence, after the noise of the inside.
We stopped near a car. Black, sleek, elegant design. A step up from the creepy old van I rather imagined, if I ever got abducted. He opened the passenger door for me.
“I’m not getting in”, I told him, a bit stubbornly.
“Listen, I have told your friend I would get you home safe, and I will. I behaved myself even though you… Well.” His gaze lowered to my injured hand, which I instinctively hid behind my back.
“Why, why on Earth should I trust anything you have to say ?”
“Because, dear, I may be a monster, which you seem so adamant to believe, but I am not, and never have been, a man to go back on word given.”
Looking at the situation objectively, I didn’t have much of a choice. No tram anywhere in sight, no people to scream to, and anyway, the Kitty Genovese thing made it clear that witnesses don’t do anything for your survival. And in her case, she was murdered by a human, which I wouldn’t be so lucky about. If he really took me home, that would bring him further from Leah, which was a substantial advantage. Taking a deep breath, I nodded, and got in the passenger seat. After making sure I was settled, he closed the door, and went around to sit behind the wheel. He typed up the address on the screen, and turned on the GPS. The car’s windows were tinted, and the interior was lit by a soft band of red led lights. Fitting.
“Seatbelt”, he commanded.
“Since when do you even know how to drive ? I would have expected a hearse, drawn by undead horses”, I sneered.
“I am not the Grim Reaper, Eris. Also, everybody knows how to drive, these days, it’s an easy skill to pick up.”
“Huh, pick up, is that what you call it ?”
He laughed. As soon as I went back home, I had spent every waking hour I had to spare researching things like him. That proved to be a difficult task, given that 90% of the hits were either literature, were it good or bad, conspirationist websites with very disputable sources, or witnesses with incoherent, horny accounts of their meetings with seductive succubuses. I figured I had to not be the only one, but there was absolutely no way of finding anything credible, as truth often makes a worse audience than embellished fiction.
At this point, I only had random bouts of legends I classified by percentage of credibility. Silver burned his skin, but didn’t seem necessarily lethal. It did seem to leave a scar for a long time, I thought as I watched the thin, white circle on the back of his hand, relaxed on the wheel. Antlers didn’t seem to be efficient either, or at least, not in a permanent manner. I wasn’t sure about direct sunlight, but cloudy weather seemed to be just fine to him.
“What are you thinking about ? I can sense it’s a tad violent”, he teased, keeping his eyes on the road.
“How are you here ? How are you alive ?”, I jabbed at him.
“Are you disappointed ?”, he replied in a slightly mocking tone.
“Thoroughly.”
“Well !”, he laughed. “Strictly speaking, I was not alive to begin with. Don’t be too hard on yourself.”
He tapped on the wheel as he drove. The rhythm reminded me of something, though I couldn't quite place it. He had his hair cut, and was clean shaven, I noticed. Overall, he looked pretty much like a normal man, late fourties, more handsome than the usual, maybe, objectively speaking. He looked sharp, intelligent. Dangerous.
“Are you going to kill me ?”, I asked, turning my attention to the road as well, trying not to have my voice shake as much as I physically was.
“Kill you ?” He seemed to think a few seconds. “No. Not yet, at least.”
“Then why are you here ? How did you find me ?”, I blurted out.
“I tasted you, I’ll always know where you are”, he softly replied. He glanced at me, lingering a little. “As for why, let’s say that I am… curious. No one even tried to stake me since that funny little man Van Helsing.”
I huffed out a laugh at the absurdity of the situation. Among all who could have taken interest in me, it had to be an immortal, bloodthirsty creature, who could smell me to the ends of the earth like a hellhound.
“Stalker”, I laconically commented.
“Stalk- What ? I’m not a- How dare you even-”
He sounded genuinely offended. My sudden fit of quiet laughter cut him off. His outraged expression softened, and he let out a sigh, taking back his composure. He took a right into my street, and parked in front of my buiding. After turning of the engine, he leaned back into his seat.
“Before you leave, I have something for you.”
He reached behind my seat, and handed me a wooden box, wrapped a red silk ribbon. I gave him an inquisitory look, to which he didn't respond. If he wanted to kill me, I ventured he would find a more dramatic way than a booby-trapped box. I mean, he wasn't an Acme character. I untied the ribbon, noticed a lock. The Count handed me a key, attached to a thin, golden chain.
“I’m more of a silver kind of girl”, I teased.
“Very funny, but also a lie”, he replied, sliding a finger along my ear, and the three golden rings piercing it.
A shot of electricity ran through me. He was about to lower his hand, yet I felt his touch, barely grazing along the small scars I knew were still swollen, still red, under the foundation I used to cover them up. Dozens of them, little cuts. Broken glass is something sharp. I heard him take an inspiration, as if to say something. I took the key, worked it into the lock. The lid opened on red velvet, in which was incased a colt. A gun. A gun ?
“That is a gun”, I flatly stated.
“Not just any kind of gun. This one is loaded with custom-made white oak bullets.”
I remained speechless a moment, taking it from its case. The metalwork was intricate, and the handle, distinctively polished antler. I wonder if…
“It is. I thought it would be… appropriate”, he told me, as if he had  read my mind.
Appropriate. I scoffed. None of it was appropriate.
“It’s simple of use, really, cock the hammer back, point, squeeze the trigger”, he explained.
“I know how a colt works. I’m more concerned of the reason why I now have one.”
“I would like for it to be a token of trust.” He shifted in his seat to face me. “I want to know that I am no threat to you. Should you not believe it, you now have this.”
I tightened my fingers around the grip. “Will it kill you ?”
“To the best of my knowledge, yes”, he nodded. “I have never died before, however, so this is brand new territory.”
He laughed at his own questionnable joke. I cocked the hammer back, and set the barrel against his chest. “Give me a good reason I shouldn’t do that right now.” He didn’t seem phased in the slightest, which had me doubt the actual usefulness of his gift. He leaned in, his face inches from mine.
“Curiosity”, he whispered, tilting his head to the side. “Everything you study in literature, I lived. Everything event you try to make sense of, I witnessed. Every battlefield you excavate, I have bled on it.” 
I lowered the gun, and looked away.
“As for myself, you have made me curious of this world again.”
“Why me ?”, I muttered, feeling heat rise to my cheeks. His cool breath had the fine hairs of my neck rise up.
“Well, what can I say, except that you have touched my heart ?”
“Dear God.” I pinched the bridge of my nose, and groaned. “I’ll shoot myself.”
“What do you say ?”, he whispered, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. I could almost feel his lips brushing against my cheek.
“Won’t you invite me in ?”
~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~
Taglist : @carydorse @angelicdestieldemon @bloodhon3yx @thewondernanazombie @battocar @moony691 @mjlock @thebeautyofdisorder @my-fanfic-library (tagging you if you wanna take a look !)
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breakyourhaloandley · 5 years
Text
01: All I Need Is One More Broken Heart
I let out a shaky breath, smoke seeping out from between my lips. The small exhaust fan above me is buzzing, threatening to break any day now just like everything else in this apartment. Jake would kill me if he knew I was smoking inside, but I don’t see how it matters. This place is a glorified garbage heap so a little cigarette smoke isn’t going to make a difference. 
Lifting the bottle of white wine up to my lips I take a long drink before staring back at the person in the mirror. I don’t know what time it is, nor do I really care, but I’m sure it’s not the ‘proper’ time to be drinking, whatever that means. Black eyeliner is smudged under my eyes and my long black hair is in desperate need of brushing. I’ll get to it later, sometime when I’m not stuck in a fucking spiral of drunkenness, sadness and utter lack of care for my wellbeing. 
The front door clicks and I hear someone fumbling with keys, I guess Jake is back. I flick the rest of my cigarette into the toilet before flushing away the evidence. I stumble, almost losing my balance as I make my way up to the kitchen where he’s fixing himself a plate of questionable Chinese leftovers. 
His eyes dart up to me, and he doesn’t even have to say anything. I see it in his disappointed scowl. “It’s two o’clock in the afternoon Andy,” he states, motioning towards the bottle in my hand. 
“And this is white wine, not liquor.” I retort, needing anything but a lecture from one of my bandmates. None of them have any room to talk. 
“You know we have band practice tonight, right? Tour starts in a week.”  “Don’t remind me” I groan, well aware of the ticking time bomb set to blow up in my face in a matter of days. 
I should be excited, it’s our first major tour. We’re headling the AP Tour this year along with my friend Matt’s band, D.R.U.G.S. I should be, but I’m anything but excited. A few months ago it would have been a totally foreign concept to me, the thought of not wanting to be on tour. Yet things change, people change and in what feels like the blink of an eye the things that used to fill you with joy become your worst fears. 
It’s not that I don’t love music anymore, it’s not that I don’t want to be in this band or that I don’t want to sing anymore. It’s that I don’t want to deal with the things that come with it. The screaming fans who think I’m some perfect fucking idol they should look up to, someone who can save them from themselves when little do they know I can’t even save myself. It’s the interviews, the time schedule, the sleepless nights in a bunk too small for my legs, it’s the loneliness despite being surrounded by people night and day, it’s the expectations. 
I wonder if the fans will notice, notice the new cracks on my perfect exterior where the flawed human being is threatening to breakthrough. I don’t know what happened, but something changed on the last tour. It was as if this darkness had consumed me. The funny thing is that I had actually made a vow to myself at the start of our first tour that I wouldn’t drink. I’d seen alcohol destroy too many of my childhood idols to ever want such evil in my life. 
Like most promises, this one wasn’t kept. It was our second tour and during the kick-off party, I had a fatal lapse in judgment. Someone handed me a drink, the stench of alcohol was potent but I drank it anyway. I can only compare the feeling to someone who is about to drown, and right before they open their mouth and let the water fill their lungs, they manage to resurface gasping for air. All the anxiety, the fear, the demons that have haunted me since childhood were suddenly quiet. I felt free, happy, confident and social. 
I no longer cared what people thought about me, like that life-saving breath of fresh air, I felt alive. 
I guess you could say I went overboard, I started drinking every night and that’s when the darkness started creeping back in. The shadow slowly wrapping its cold fingers around my throat and after the tour ended it spiraled out of control. Bad decisions, at least those that I can remember, haunt me yet I just keep making them. 
So now I have a week before the tour starts, a week to get my shit together.  “And are you fucking listening to me?” Jake snaps, pulling me out of my wine-induced haze. 
“Uh yeah-”  “I said you can’t pull the shit you’ve been pulling on tour. No more ending up on the stage floor crying and making a fool of us. John said that-”  “Thank you, Jake, I’ve seen the videos I don’t need a lecture.” I cut him off. 
---
The walls burst down the second I see him, like floodgates opening-up and memories that I thought were buried suddenly resurface like it was yesterday instead of a month ago. He’s standing there, silky black hair concealing his face. He’s too busy tuning his base to even notice that I’ve walked in. His tattooed fingers work the strings of the instrument and I’ve never been jealous of an inanimate object before now. 
My heart is racing in my chest and I swear to god he has to hear it. I feel a knot in my stomach and I’m not sure if it’s that or the hangover making me feel like I’m going to throw up. Ashley looks up, his caramel eyes fixating on my lanky frame. Eyes dart up and down and wait, was that a grimace? He sets his base down and his boots click as he walks towards me. 
“You okay Six?” he asked, raising a perfectly groomed eyebrow. 
“I’m fine Ash.”  “You’ve lost weight,” he comments, the tone of his voice tells me he doesn’t mean it as a compliment. 
I’ve been steadily dropping weight since our first tour, I don’t know where it got out of control but like most things in my life, it did. God, I want to be fucking wasted right now, anything but dealing with this. 
This dance we’re doing around each other is new, and I don’t know the steps to it. All I know him as is my best friend, the person who’s been there for me since the start, warmth in cold, oxygen to a drowning man. 
I can still feel his lips on mine, the night it all went to hell. It was the last week of the tour and after killing almost an entire bottle of whiskey we made a fatal error. The circumstances that led us to that error are blurry, blacked-out sentences in the story of my life. What I do remember has become my own personal hell that plays on a loop in my brain. 
The heavy motel door slams shut, the outside world ceases to exist as time stands still in some little town in Texas. Those tattooed fingers are dancing along the outline of my hip bones, my back pressed up against the cigarette stained wall. I’ve wanted this moment since we met, to feel his strong arms wrapped around me, to be the center of his attention and desires. And here we are, our lips inches apart, a hurricane about to make landfall. 
His hands glid up my bare skin, following the contours of my torso. A shiver goes down my spine and I feel my heart about to explode. “Kiss me” I whisper my breath catching in my throat. 
Our lips collide and I melt, surrendering myself completely over to him. I part my lips as he slips his tongue into my mouth, his nails digging into my pale flesh. There’s a roughness to it that drives me mad and I can taste the whiskey on his lips. 
He pulls me over towards the bed, falling on top of me as the bed creaks under our combined weight. His fingers lace in my hair before violently pulling it back. I let out a moan all the nerves in my body firing. He has complete control over me, I’m a puppet on strings. 
I tug at his belt, leaning up and whispering in his ear “I want to feel you inside me” I don’t care what the consequences are all that matters is this moment. 
He pushes me back, quickly standing up. My heart stops in my chest as he shakes his head, a disgusted look across his face. “Fuck” he breathes pushing his hair back. 
“W-What?”  “God, what are we doing? No... Andy, I’m not gay. I- fuck I’m drunk. Look we can’t do this, I’m not attracted to you and I’m sure as hell not gonna fuck you.” 
My heart shatters into a million pieces, this has to be a dream... no a nightmare and I will myself to wake up. Only I don’t wake up, “Ashley...” 
“Look I get it, you’re uh- you’re gay. I kind of always suspected that I guess. But I’m not and this isn’t going to happen. We’re bandmates, I’m your friend and we’re both just drunk.” I stopped listening to the words coming out of his mouth but the next thing I knew he was out the door, something about sleeping on the bus. 
We ended up doing the whole awkward day after ‘talk’. Let’s just forget about it, neither of us meant for it to go that far, we can just carry on as if it never happened. Bullshit. 
And now we’re here. It’s been a month since I’ve seen him, the longest we’ve ever gone since he joined the band two years ago. He stares at me, I guess expecting me to say something from this mutually agreed-upon script we’re supposed to be acting out now. Words fail me though, all I feel is the lump in my throat and it feels like it is suffocating me. 
“You’re taking care of yourself, right? You said you were going to get better about that. Cutting down on cigarettes and drinking, eating better.” I can’t tell if the concern in his voice is real or just for show. Did I even say that? Maybe I did, but I didn’t mean it. 
“I’m not going to drink this tour.”  “One out of three is better than nothing I guess.” he jokes, though I don’t think he believes me. 
“I uh- I’ll be back in a sec.” I manage to get out before brushing past him and away from the others. 
I barely make it into the bathroom of the studio before breaking down. Air is hard to find as I gasp for breath, the tightness in my chest getting so bad that I swear I’m going to pass out. I brace myself against the sink, my knuckles turning white from the death grip I have on it. Tears well up in my eyes before falling, mixing with the black shadow around my eyes into long black streaks down my face. 
There is no way I’m going to be able to do this tour sober, I don’t know why I’m fooling myself. I want nothing more than to be half a bottle deep in whiskey right now, all these fucking emotions shut off. Sliding down against the wall onto the tiled floor my head spins from the hangover and lack of oxygen which only increases the nauseous feeling in my stomach. I try to convince myself this is just another panic attack but the feeling of death is so real. I lean over the toilet, pushing two fingers back into my throat until I feel my gag reflex kick in. I throw up the little that’s in my stomach before leaning back against the wall. 
My hands shake and I’m unsteady on my feet as I push myself off the ground. I rinse my mouth out with water and try my best to wipe away the smeared makeup before walking back out to where the rest of my band is. They’re already practicing, the sounds of drums and electric guitars drowning out the sounds of my little breakdown. I try my best to force a smile and join in, but I feel disconnected from them, from the music, from life. 
We practice for hours, and I feel every second of it. While the rest of the guys talk about ideas for the tour I slip out the back. I light up the second I step outside, the nicotine calming my nerves instantly. I’ve smoked half the pack before I even realize it, but the health of my lungs doesn’t make my list of concerns. 
I listen to the sounds of the buzzing street on the other side of the building, closing my eyes as I try to find a moment of tranquility. 
“Andy we need to talk.” his cool voice says from behind me. Ashley walks over to face me, grabbing the pack of cigarettes and lighter from me. I watch as he places one between his pale pink lips, the flame flickering in between the cracks of his cupped hand. 
A dirty little secret about Ashley, he’s known to smoke a cigarette or two whenever he’s stressed. He loves to preach about hating them, how disgusting and dirty they are but compared to the things he used to use it’s nothing. The thing about being so close to someone is you know almost all of their secrets, you’ve met all of their skeletons and Ashley has more than his fair share of them. So I let his theft slide. 
He blows the smoke out in a white cloud before sighing. “I told John that on hotel nights I’ll room with one of the other guys. I think it’s best that way.” 
I scoff, laughing at his feeble attempt to act like we’re not completely fucked. “Is it?” 
“I figured it would be easier for you.”  “Wow you’re so considerate” I reply, my voice laced with sarcasm. 
“Andy you said that we would just agree to forget about everything. Just be normal bandmates. I know you’re hurt but it’s just the way things are. Maybe it’s my fault, I let you believe there was something when there wasn’t.” 
Ashley was my lifeline when I moved here. A month of living in my car before meeting him and the others had taken its toll on me. I was on the verge of giving up and crawling back to Ohio with my tail between my legs. Then I met him and he showed me a warmth that kept me going. He was there the nights I broke down in tears, missing home and second-guessing myself. He was there when I needed advice, guidance, someone who I could trust. Even when I started drinking he was there, making sure I didn’t die of alcohol poisoning, pulling me together the next morning... and now it’s over. 
“I’m sorry for fucking things up. I just... miss what we had, friendship, whatever you want to call it. I’m drowning Ash.”  “I’m still your friend Andy. Don’t be dramatic, you’re twenty now you don’t need someone babying you.” 
My heart aches, I tried to fight it for so long. I tried to tell myself that it was hopeless to have these emotions for someone who would never want me the way I wanted him. I tried to convince myself that the truth wasn’t the truth, that I wasn’t madly in love with the man in front of me. I am in love with him though, and for a few moments on that fateful night, I thought he loved me back. 
“When I asked you to kiss me, why did you?” I ask bluntly. 
He is clearly thrown by the question, and the calm facade he is so perfect at maintaining drops for a second. Just long enough that I can see he is human, not some robot immune to emotions. “I don’t know.. maybe there was a part of me that wanted to try it, maybe it was because you asked. Maybe it was the whiskey.” 
I close the gap between the two of us, the smoke from our cigarettes mixing in the air. He doesn’t move back, just stares at me, his face once again expressionless. “And you felt nothing?” I whisper. 
“Nothing Andy.” We stand there, motionless in the cool Hollywood air. Kiss me, punch me, insult me, push me up against the brick and fuck me, do something. “Then I guess I’ll just forget about it,” I reply. 
He places the cigarettes and lighter into the pocket of my leather jacket. “Goodnight.” he simply says before walking away. 
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misc-headcanons · 5 years
Text
1st Place Prize: NS.FW Scenario (Law/Reader) 1/2
For @hyakira, a scenario involving Law and a rival/enemy Reader stranded on an island together. I decided to make it a two-parter: this one is the setup, and the next piece will be the smut! 
Like love, an intense rivalry can make you do some stupid things. You and Trafalgar Law had been taking shots at each other’s ships one minute when an intense storm had flown both of you wildly off course. Not wanting to miss an opportunity to beat the bastard once and for all, you had ordered your crew to pursue the Polar Tang before they managed to escape underwater. Your second-in-command pleaded for you to reconsider. “We need to focus on escaping, Captain! We’ll find another way to track him down, but–”
“Fine,” you snapped, catching one of your other crew members as they slid across the rocking ship; they were a hair’s breadth away from falling over the side of the deck and into the icy waters below when you reached over and yanked them back behind the banister. You angrily shoved him and your second-in-command in one of the indoor cabins before rushing to your quarters, your hand clenching around your sword’s scabbard. “I’ll just go after him myself.”
Inside a hidden compartment under the floorboards was one of your secret weapons–a small but sturdy Waver originally made in Skypiea, perfect for solo missions. You still couldn’t believe you’d managed to steal it from Mad Monk Urouge and survive after encountering his crew a few months back. It was worth it though, especially in times like these. You dragged the Waver out of its hidden compartment and onto the deck of the ship. The torrential rain immediately soaked through your clothes and chilled you to the bone, but the sight of the Heart Pirates’ Jolly Roger caught your eye and lit your chest on fire; he was not getting away this time.
You positioned yourself on the Waver and leaped into the sea, determined to follow the Polar Tang. It hadn’t gone underwater and it looked like the ship was headed for a nearby island that was across the horizon. As you followed behind them, a strong tidal wave launched the ship forward, tossing Law overboard. His crew quickly tried to change the ship’s course to turn back for outside to the outdoor deck to assess how stuck they were. Law’s second-in-command–a large bear Mink you vaguely remembered was named Bepo–was desperately trying to call out to his captain. Law yelled something at him as he used his Devil Fruit to switch places with random pieces of driftwood, seemingly ordering the others to get out of danger and leave him behind. Bepo reluctantly agreed, and Law found himself alone on the beach. Perfect.
You stealthily rode up to the beach, going slow enough to avoid having the Motor Dial rise over the sound of the rain to give away your presence. Once you made it onto the sand, you hid the Waver behind a few large bushes and spied on Law. He was still alone underneath a large tree, and you thought you could ambush him from behind if you were quiet enough. You made a few steps towards him when you noticed him wrapping his left arm with a spare bit of gauze kept in his jacket; he had sustained a nasty cut that stretched from his left shoulder to his chest, ending a few inches past his left pectoral muscle. Your eyes widened as you watched him wince in pain, and your fists clenched; an injury like that wouldn’t kill him, but it’d definitely impact his ability to hold a sword and fight for a while.
“Are you kidding me!?”
Law flinched at your sudden outburst and rested his hand on his sword’s handle. When he recognized your face, his grip on his sword slightly tightened. “Where’s the rest of your crew?” he demanded. “There’s no way your ship could have passed us, so you can’t have landed here before we did.”
You scowled and walked forward, crossing your arms. “The rest of my crew didn’t have the guts to follow me,” you spat. “But I’m not dying before I get a chance to beat you.”
Law rose up to face you, and blood started to seep through his gauze. “Come on then,” he replied. “Once you’re out of the way, I’ll be able to see what repairs the Polar Tang needs.”
You rolled your eyes and put a hand on your hip. “I can’t fight you now,” you replied heatedly. “Not when your arm’s injured like that. It wouldn’t be a fair win!”
Law raised an eyebrow. “That implies I wouldn’t be able to defeat you with this injury,” he replied with a slightly mocking tone. “I never struck you as the honorable type.”
“Fuck off.” You groaned and sat down under a large palm tree with a huff. “And now my crew and my ship are…God knows where they went to escape the storm. I finally get you alone and I can’t even fight you.” You sigh and run your hands through your hair. “…Aaargh!”
You toss a large rock next to you onto the sand, and it lands with a strange thump; it sounded like it had hit something hard underneath the sand. Curious, you get up and find where the rock had landed. After scooping away a few handfuls of sand, you found a large wooden crate buried under the sand. “What the hell…?”
Law followed behind you, wondering what you’d found. He assumed this island was abandoned, considering the overgrowth and brush that made up the rest of the island around them. He knelt down and peered at a few words carved into the top of the crate. “Property of the Rumrunner Pirates,” he read out loud. “Fuck prohibition and fuck the King of Drybone Island.”
You managed to open the crate and find a large number of bottles stacked inside–rum, whiskey, bourbon, beer, and a few bottles of red and white wine. “No way…” You reached inside and pulled out a bottle of bourbon to show Law. “Well, at least this hasn’t been a complete waste of time.” You dangled the bottle in front of Law, and he reluctantly took it from you. The two of you settled under another nearby palm tree and you uncorked the bottle before taking a large swig. After you wiped your chin, you handed the bottle to Law.
“After all the years you’ve spent chasing me, I’m surprised you’re fine sharing a drink with me,” Law remarked. He drank a bit and winced as he felt the liquor burn in his chest.
You laughed and took the bottle from him to have another drink. “I’m surprised you’re cringing like a choir boy having his first sip of wine,” you teased. You took a few large swigs without flinching. “Never figured a pirate like you would have such a low tolerance for alcohol.” “A pirate like me?”
“A Supernova,” you said, already feeling a bit lightheaded from the bourbon. You gestured wildly with one of your hands. “A-A captain of the Worst Generation, The Surgeon of Death! There were even some rumors I heard about you becoming a Warlord soon…” You sighed and took another drink. “I saw your wanted poster and I instantly knew that you were gonna be the next Pirate King. And I only want to fight the best.” You handed the bottle back to Law. “And now I can’t fight you, and we’re both stranded on a random island with nothing but some palm trees and a crate of booze.”
Law leaned back and took another drink. “So you only started this rivalry after seeing my poster? With how relentless you were in following me around, I would’ve thought there was more to it than that.”’ A ghost of a smile passed on his lips. “Your instincts on who’ll find the One Piece are spot on, at least.”
“Well, it was more than just that,” you said defensively. Your words were starting to slur a bit, and Law smirked. “You’re just…so…” The warmth of your cheeks from the bourbon intensified as you tried to explain why you were so fascinated with him. “Agh, I dunno how to explain it. I just wanted to fight you so I could get you off my mind for once.” You scowled at the ground. “I mean, I’m a pirate captain too. I’ve got so much shit to think about, but you’re always in the back of my head. And I figured once I fought you, it’d stop…”
Law blinked and tried to wrap his head around what you were saying. Making coherent thoughts seemed a bit more difficult, thanks to the bourbon. He found himself staring at you, watching your lips move as you talked about him. His mind started to wander. How long has she been trying to fight me? Feels like forever. And this is the longest conversation we’ve had. He saw you blush and describe how he was always on your mind and felt a strange feeling stirring in his chest. There were a few times aboard the Polar Tang where he’d have strange dreams about you, usually after the two of you clashed: you’d be fighting fiercely, he’d disarm you and grab your arm, and the two of you would stare at each other silently before he kissed you roughly. When he’d wake up, his boxers would be uncomfortably tight and he’d hastily justify the dream as being a random wet dream; nocturnal emissions were just part of being a man his age, but he wondered why they’d only ever come about after encountering you again.
Law noticed that you were still talking and tried to snap back to reality. He wasn’t used to feeling this unfocused. Maybe he had a concussion from being thrown overboard? No, he didn’t exhibit any other symptoms… He was silent as you continued talking and he took a few more swigs.
“And I know it sounds stupid, being so focused on you,” you continued. “But…The more I fought you, the more fun I was having. I was…exhilarated. Yeah, that’s the right word–exhilarated.” You giggled and reached to grab the bottle from Law. “That’s a funny word. ‘Exhilarated.’ ‘Ex-hillll-ahhh-rayyyy-teeeeed…’” You stumbled and fell forward, and Law’s dulled reflexes still managed to spur him to action; he caught your arms and the bottle fell into the sand. You two were closer than you’d ever been, even when your swords had clashed so many times before. The two of you stared silently at each other, and Law’s breath hitched–for once, this wasn’t a dream.
You bit your lip as you tried to push out the stream of lewd thoughts entering your mind; the two of you were so close. He stared up at you, trying to keep his composure as he thought of what to say. “You…” He took a deep breath. “You want me out of your system, right?”
You nodded wordlessly.
“I…I do too,” he confessed. “I keep having these dreams. About you. And–” He looked away and felt his cheeks burning. “You’re distracting. And since you’re distracted by me, it’s just logical that we…We move on from it.”
His grip on your arms relaxed, and you leaned forward slightly as your arms sank into the sand on either side of Law’s body. You shifted your hips and slowly sank down until you were resting on top of him. You leaned down and roughly kissed him, and the muffled moan that came from his lips was filling you with a warmth that definitely wasn’t from the bourbon. The two of you pulled away, panting.“Then…” You slowly lifted your shirt and tossed it into the sand. “Let’s move on.”
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mxdanni · 5 years
Text
When Push Comes To Shove. p.1
m!MC’s name is Cheng Lee. Actually, I was calling Cheng MC’s cousin from my f!MC timeline. But ok. Guess, I like that name a lot. I will be adding a Time.dot before every story so that you will know where it fits within the Open Heart timeline.
Time.dot: Around a month of internship at Edenbrook. MC did help Dr Ramsey with the fainted woman on his first day, yet Dolores wasn’t yet brought in. Spoiler alert: she will be admitted but a bit later into the story. The competition hasn’t been announced yet, and everything’s been particularly quiet but for Dr Ramsey keeping the interns on their toes and being his grumpy self.
Summary: when Dr Ramsey assigned MC a terminally ill patient he was rather proud of himself for finding the exact case the young intern would certainly take interest in. After all, Dr Ramsey did read MC’s studies from med school, fascinating yet incomplete finding those were indeed. The patient seemed to fit the pattern. What Dr Ramsey didn’t realise is that it would strike too close to home for MC to handle. Or that MC’s reasons behind studying the exact illness were absolutely opposite from the very start.
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He hated him.
“Damn...” Cheng shut his eyes and rubbed his forehead. The frown would creep back the moment he stopped massaging his skin, and that simple reaction was tripping Cheng over the edge.
Absolutely. Gutter-ly.
“Just... just burn, why wouldn’t you, Dr Ethan Ramsey?” muttered Cheng and rested his forehead against his knee.
He was sitting curled up like that for some time now, the anger burning deep into his chest. Behind the shelves in the inventory room, it was dark, a little too chilly, but more importantly, Cheng was alone in there. And it was so quiet he could hear his every breath echo off the walls.
“I mean...” Cheng sighed and imagined, “how hard is it to accidentally catch fire? People set themselves on fire every day, right? Like, cooking accidents happen, or they leave candles burning and fall asleep, or that time gran left Hong and Jing in charge of the wok and they added too much sesame oil, and that blazed...”
Cheng shook his head.
“Well, of course, he wouldn’t!” He groaned. “He’s the damn always perfect Mr Right, I know everything Dr Ethan Ramsey, isn’t he?!”
Cheng started at the wall for a few seconds. None of it was right. None of it should have been happening, yet there he was: devastated and heartbroken. Tired. Defeated. And proven wrong.
“I give...” The word up wouldn’t leave his mouth. Cheng found himself gaping like a fish, he choked on the final dot several times. It felt wrong, not just wrong but the betraying everything he ever believed in scope wrong.
“Damn it.” Cheng clenched his fists. “It was everything I ever believed in, wasn’t it? The reason I tried so hard, the reason I got so far. It was to prove him wrong, to prove any other doctor but him could’ve saved her... I would have saved her... and he gave up on her...”
He fell quiet and with a hitching noise held his breath – the door creaked, and a peak of light slid in. A cautious step.
“Dr Lee?”
Forks. Just the person he wanted to see! Cheng grimaced, a mere moment away from revealing himself. But then again... he was behind all the shelves, curled on the floor in the furthest darkest corner. No one could possibly see him in there from the door, right? He just needed to sit tight and make no sound.
“I know you’re somewhere in there, rookie,” sounded the always confident voice. Cocky. Cheng hated it. “Unless you’ve learnt to walk through the walls, which would explain how you have managed to avoid me all day when I have been looking for you all over the hospital.” Dr Ramsey walked in and quietly closed the door behind him. “Or you are simply a ghost.”
Cheng blinked, his breath catching in his throat. Did Dr Ramsey, the Dr Ramsey make a joke? A pretty bad one, but still.
Oh, wait, and did he also say he was looking for him? For Cheng, all day?
“Why?” Cheng couldn’t help it, the word left his lips on its own.
“Oh, there you are, rookie,” said Dr Ramsey and turned to his left to go around he shelving. “I am not talking to myself after all.”
It was too dark for Cheng to see, and he reminded himself he never cared enough to even raise his head and look at the other. Was that a faint smile tugging just on the corner of Dr Ramsey’s lips, or an amused chuckle the doctor shoved down, carefully masked under his usual neutral tone? Cheng would never know.
"And probably, shouldn’t regret never caring enough to know, right?” he mused to himself. That idea distracted him from the anger flaring up again. “It is about him, not me! Looked for so that he wouldn’t look bad, huh?” Cheng clenched his jaws to keep silent. "Gran brought me better than that,” he chanted in his head until it got stuck.
Not giving Dr Ramsey a piece of his mind at that point felt intense.
And then the last thing Cheng ever expected came about to be.
“What happened?” he heard Dr Ramsey ask. Softly. In the tone Cheng never heard the doctor use before, in the tone Cheng never imagined the doctor was even capable of speaking in.
Cheng stared as the Dr Ramsey kneeled next to him on one knee, his hand reaching out for his shoulder. Cheng stared as fingertips grazed his white coat, fingers curled a little and…. Never sunk into his shoulder. Dr Ramsey’s hand hovered just over his shoulder, yet not touching it. Not exactly anyway.
It didn’t feel that way. Cheng mused at his odd reaction, Dr Ramsey uneasily glanced from his own hand to Cheng’s face and back at his hand. And kept it there, hovering but a hair’s width over Cheng’s shoulder as if he couldn’t decide.
To Cheng that felt more of a firm grasp. A hold he could bring himself to wrench away from. Too… strangely comforting. Or was it the look Dr Ramsey gave him? Cheng wondered how much the other could see from his face in the darkness.
“I can’t save him,” whispered Cheng and, finally, looked away. Wrench his gaze away for what it was worth, broke from that whatever spell that kept his eyes locked with Dr Ramsey’s.
The other quirked his eyebrow. Expecting to go on, urging Cheng to.
“The patient,” muttered Cheng. Almost not through his teeth, he shoved the building anger deeper down his throat and answered as calmly as he could manage. “The patient you gave me, Steve Collins, aged 63, divorced, senior resident... I can’t save him. He’s got two months left.”
“I know.”
“You know!?” Cheng exclaimed, shoved the hand away and jumped to his feet. "You know– ugh, I bloody knew it!” He was shouting and hovered over the confused Dr Ramsey who just happen to stumble back and onto the floor at the impact. "You know! You knew and found the perfect way to torture me– you torture everyone around you, is that your guilty pleasure?! Do you actually enjoy seeing everyone around you in pain?!”
Cheng lost it. He was going overboard, he knew it, understood it, sensed it… Couldn’t stop it. Didn’t want to stop it, or take any word back.
“Why do you hate me so much?! Wait, don’t answer that, it’s not about me, is it? It never was about me, I mean, who am I for the Dr Ethan Ramsey to consider, to even notice, right?!” Cheng flexed his fists only to clench them back by his sides. “Why do you hate everybody but yourself!”
It wasn’t a question. Cheng didn’t care to hear the answer.
It was when all anger seemed to drench through his vent, and Cheng was gasping for breath, his eyes darting hectic around the room that… His attention snapped to Dr Ramsey. Still sitting on the floor for whatever possible reason, eyebrows raised and eyes opened wide, expression… well, more or less composed. Mildly surprised arrogance Cheng might have called it. If it wasn’t for the look the doctor was giving him. Confused, lost.
But more so hurt.
“Oh, wow,” Cheng thought and blinked a few times, squinting into the darkness of the room to take in every detail of that expression. “So he does have feelings after all. Uh-huh. And I’ve just hurt them… Guess I’m dead now. Am I dead now? He’ll chew me whole and spit out in shattered bits.”
Cheng looked away. Dr Ramsey kept silent. Cheng glanced back down on the doctor, their eyes meeting half-way. Now, that was way beyond awkward. Cheng clasped his arms over his chest and hunched his shoulders, a nervous gesture to anyhow protect himself from what was coming.
After what felt like an hour, Dr Ramsey cleared his throat. Cheng jumped backwards and whirled his head in the direction of the door. Fleeing never seemed like a better option.
“Cheng, wait!”
It was the sound of his name slipping from Dr Ramsey’s lips that stopped him. Cheng froze: facing the door, his back turned to the other.
"Uh, that is, Dr Lee…”
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Next part !!
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