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hwallout · 4 years

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chemistry - haon

request: you're literally so cute omg 🥺, and yes he really is talented, one of the best rappers in my opinion actually,could it be a fluff, you being an idol and something like you two are dating and go to a variety show together and everyone just adores you two 🥺

words: 4,2k

genre: fluff

early a/n: omg im so nervous about this, my first request!! i kind of got carried away with the idea and just wanted to write a lot of things for it. it’s also my first time writing an idol and variety show au so i hope i did it justice <3

“Today, we have a special, new couple with us, everyone please welcome them!” The short and chubby woman said, a little nametag hanging off the rough material of her shirt, Jiyoon. Her voice rose slightly at the last word, arms extending and hands pointing towards the two youthful souls that stood not so far away. Slowly, the camera zoomed out and focused on the excited and cheerful appearance of a young couple.

Today, after exactly two weeks of going public about your relationship with Haon, you were guesting on your first “couple” variety show. Needless to say, nervousness taking a toll on your mind, although it wasn’t the first time guesting on this exact show. Being a popular solo artist, you’ve been invited a few times, and so has the rapper beside you, but being here as a couple was a completely different story.

Still, you didn’t let the tension win, and decided to film today’s episode as per usual – with a lot of fun and laughs. Now that your boyfriend was there, the atmosphere was only going to be better. Haon had a huge smile on his face, one that was well matching with yours. His cheeks came up high and made his eyes turn into thin slits. Just seeing him so happy was enough to make anyone’s day perfect.

The two of you walked hand in hand, bodies moving to the slowly increasing volume of a song playing. It took a long second to realize that it was your recent collaboration – a song that earned a lot of praise and became a hit overnight. Letting the beat glide, your idol persona took over and you started bopping and mouthing the words of the song.

When in the center of the room, Haon turned around and rapped along, hyping up the whole set. His lyrics flowed perfectly, breathing perfectly in control for the speed he delivered the words. Although so close to the boy, you still envied him, there was still so, so much to learn from such an experienced person. Slowly but surely, he built up the atmosphere for the main part of the collaboration – which were your own lyrics. When they finally started, the set went silent.

Still in the chic persona that the fans adored so much, you rapped along, holding an imaginary mic. At some point, you’d lift up your leg and step on Haon’s thigh, the boy now crouching down and enjoying the show. He looked at you with a cheeky smirk, but the eyes held so much indescribable adoration for the female before him.

Distancing away, and deciding to walk around the room, you showed off the powerful aura that was one of the main reasons you were an instant hit right after debut. The producers and cameramen bopped their heads along. In the last few lines, your boyfriend joined in on the vocal parts and you ran towards him to perform together, satisfied with the smooth execution of the beautiful collaboration.

The song ended with a strong growl and an imaginary mic drop from the both of you. Sounds of amazement resonated through the room, and the MCs appeared in the shot once again, also clapping along.

“Exactly what do we say about this duo? Legendary, exceptional, talented couple” Jiyoon chirped, her voice high but slightly raspy. “Haon and _____ everybody!” Hoseok and Lim, two of the other MCs joined in, chanting names and motioning towards you for the main camera to move and switch focus.

A brief filming cut was made, and suddenly there were a lot of people running around. Some staff came close to check up on makeup, hair, clothes, while the rest prepared the set behind. Haon’s disappearance went by unnoticed, until he came back, holding a fluffy blanket in your favorite color. Unable to control the sudden rush of feelings, you hugged him tight, hearing quiet coos from the production crew.

Everything was finished in a matter of one minute, and the filming resumed. You were seated now, with the blanket covering up your legs, a warm feeling spreading over the chilly skin. There was a wide smile on your face that only widened as the male beside reached out and held your hand, placing it neatly in his lap.

“First off, welcome! It’s a pleasure seeing some familiar faces again” Lim spoke, deep voice contrasting his soft features. He looked at the boy on your left, then you, a friendly smile on his lips. The man’s cheeks were high and full, making it clear as to why the media often compared him to a mochi. Seeing Lim hosting again allowed you to relax more. You were already comfortable enough to joke and fool around with the older.

“Thank you for inviting us!” Haon replied, glancing to his right quickly as if to catch your reaction. Even after so long, there was that soft smile he fell in love with so long ago.

“It’s always refreshing when couples guest on our show, but I must say I was pleasantly surprised with today’s lineup” Lim continued, and was met with approving hums from the others. You looked down at the blanket, feeling a slight flush overtaking your features.

“We hope you guys will have fun with today’s segments we prepared just for you” The host continued, flipping over a page on his script and taking a quick glance at it. The announcement had your eyes widening and mouth forming an O shape. Haon was in charge of vocal reactions, an amazed (or perhaps thrilled?) sound leaving his parted lips. You looked at him in excitement, resuming to clapping and legs swaying back and forth.

“Ah, just for us? Stop it, I’m gonna blush” Haon suddenly said, putting a hand to his heart, trying to fake fluster. The tone with which he spoke was high in pitch, almost way too cute for his usual demeanor. You laughed at his little remark, seeing just how comfortable the other was with the older man.

“You know you’re my favorite, how can I not?” Lim replied with the same type of undertone, mimicking the actions of your boyfriend. A slight commotion developed between two friends. You, and the two other hosts, sat on the side, watching with attentive eyes the teasing conversation that went back and forth – providing yet another source of entertainment. The room was quickly filled with laughter and claps of excitement.

Once the noise died out, Hoseok was the one to speak. He was the newest MC of the show, yet he always seemed so professional.

“As you can see, we always have fun with our guests” He said, taking a glance at the script in his lap. The motion was brief and quick, almost unnoticeable. “And I hope you’ll continue to enjoy the show because we are jumping straight onto the first segment!”

The MCs did their usual transition between introductions and first segments, their strong cheers followed by your own. Adding to points for style, the couple made little hand guns that were pointed at the camera. They were later on edited to shoot colorful hearts.

“So, guys, you’ve been dating for some time now” Jiyoon noted, looking at you with adoring eyes. The woman was in her mid 40s and always loved seeing such young but aspiring people happy together. It was something about these pupils that had so much weight on their shoulders, but found time for each other, that made Jiyoon’s chest feel warm. It’s probably exactly why she loved doing shows like these.

“9 months” You interrupted, trying to hide the excitement that threatened to drip off those words. Honestly, it wasn’t possible to remain emotionless while speaking about your relationship. The boy meant so much to you, that whenever talking or thinking about him, you’d smile.

“9 months, yet only decided to go public recently, how did that go? How did you come about making such an important decision?”

“Well, we talked about it a lot ever since we got together actually” Haon spoke, the dark strands of hair falling over his eyes, failing to hide the raw emotion in his pupils as he spoke. Out of nowhere, the boy’s hand reached for yours and for the nth time that day, you let him hold it.

“But I think that just after our collab came out, the fans managed to catch onto that little bit of emotion. That’s when we realized it couldn’t be hidden for much longer. So, as we appeared in more videos together, they kept on picking on all these little looks because you know, it’s impossible to hold all of them in-” The boy laughed, cocking his head to the side. “And then maybe I slipped and posted a certain story...”

“Slipped and went through the effort of putting a filter and timestamp on the picture” You noted, remembering just the exact moment when it all unfolded. It was a late Friday. In quest of breathing some fresh air, you walked out on the balcony, leaned against the balustrade and enjoyed the beautiful view. The full moon greeted you happily. Haon joined you on the balcony shortly after, but his steps were quiet, unalarming of his presence. From his point of view, your form was only a dark silhouette, contrasting the city lights and white city behind it. Without much thought, the boy snapped a picture, turning to instagram story and writing ‘late night inspiration’.

The fans weren’t slow to catch up. Fortunately, it appeared to be a good decision.

“We were with supportive comments even before going official, and when that accident happened, we decided to come clean of it. That’s what he’s trying to present an essay about” You answered the question with a sassy tone, rolling your eyes playfully at the other, earning a laugh from the hosts in return. Your boyfriend tried faking offense at being so nonchalantly interrupted, but the smirk that followed on his expression didn't wait to appear.

“And how did all of this happen? How did the relationship develop?” Lim questioned, raising his eyebrows in a teasing manner.

“Haon was actually there when I auditioned for the company. He wasn’t allowed in by the judges-” You began, trying to vividly recall the exact moment of your first encounter. Haon was shorter back then, hair curly and covering most of his forehead, reaching his eyes even. It was a wonder he was even able to see you audition through those strands and blurry glass. Haon wore baggy clothes, and you remember thinking that his outfit of the day was inspired by homeless fashion.

“Mind you, I was called, but I refused”

“He refused and then stood right outside, watching the audition. When I came out of the room, he greeted me and we talked while I waited for my friend to finish her audition. We became friends in a span of 10 minutes”

“I knew she was going to get accepted, and when that finally happened, I was there to help her with all the burdens of the trainee period. Especially because she was trained to be a solo artist. We’re similar age, so I was there to be a friend as well as some kind of a tutor. Then, it all slowly developed from that friendship” Your boyfriend spoke with so much pride in his voice and you had to physically restrain from cooing out loud. Despite all effort, there was still a faint tint of red on your cheeks.

“The two of you are people of great qualities, what are some things that you exceptionally like about each other?” Hoseok questioned, quite interested in the whole topic. He wanted the two of you to talk your hearts out, to show just how happy people could be when together. The man was an idol too and completely aware of how cruel the industry could be, especially towards young artists that tried living life outside of work. Seeing a couple like you, openly talking about the relationship, gave him some faith to believe in.

“She’s extremely selfless. She’ll first make sure everyone is doing fine and everyone’s needs are met before hers. Also, she’s very determined. If this girl has her mind on something, she’s not going to stop working until it’s achieved. If some things meet bumps along the way, she tends to talk herself through it-”

“I do not!” You tried defending pride, but the words held no truth. It was a trait you were aware but definitely not proud of.

“You do. Personally, I find it cute, especially when you’re working on songs, composing or writing. You hum a melody and then explain it to yourself. Or when your tongue pokes out while concentrated, like this” Haon explained, carefully moving his tongue to place it between his soft lips, resembling a puppy. Although called out, you found the situation to be a great source of even more entertainment. Deciding to tease the boy further, you squinted and leaned in.

“No I don’t?”

“Yes, you do, exactly like this” Your boyfriend repeated the action, turning around so you could observe from different angles. Unfortunately for him, there was no affirmative reaction, and you only resumed staring at him. At this point, the MCs caught onto the game and started giggling silently, hands covering their mouth and trying to prevent the sounds from escaping.

“How? Can you please demonstrate again I didn’t see it” Just then, the façade broke and your voice pitched up at the end. A sneaky laugh slipped just in between the last two words. The boy looked at you seriously, taking a second to process the situation before gasping. His head shook in disapproval while everyone around laughed loudly. Your shoulders shook with so much power that they managed to throw you off balance and off the chair – almost. Almost, because just like always, the protective and reassuring side of your boyfriend was there to steady your form. With an appreciative look, you silently thanked him. Just a few more moments passed before you were answering to Hoseok’s question too.

“Haon... he’s very outgoing, to the point where I have to mentally prepare for whatever might happen tomorrow. He’s always doing something, always busy with something. Also, he loves to gift and surprise people, with small pieces of affection or big extravagant plans”

“Haon likes to interrupt me mid writing to listen to his songs and I really can’t complain about that because I get to hear all of the songs in their raw, original format” You tried to do the boy justice, although it is extremely hard to do so using plain, simple words. Your feelings went further than any sentence could ever portray.

“He’s very clingy and loves to show affection at any moment possible” To prove the point, you pointed towards the other hand that was securely in his. The hosts cooed at the sight, and instead of pulling back, Haon only caressed your fingers carefully.

“He likes to switch between English and Korean a lot, thank god that I understand him, for we’d definitely not be able to communicate properly if I didn't”

Truthfully, it was possible to go on for days about your boyfriend. It was that huge space the boy had in your heart that held so, so many reasons for why it loved him. Deeming that the show wasn’t an appropriate place for your heart to write love letters, you decided to stop there, ending the presentation with a slight nod and look at the ground. The hosts took a few seconds to drink up this beautiful confession, before agreeing on moving on to the next segment.

“For every couple, communication and understanding are very important, right?” Jiyoon started, looking around as if to gauge reaction. Humming and nodding along, you agreed with her statement. She flipped the pages of the script, a little more obvious than Hoseok, and continued the speech. “Those who are close can understand each other without words, even, so that’s exactly what our first game is going to be about”

As if on que, Lim ran towards the production crew to pick up a a stack of papers. All of them had something written on them, but thanks to his broad form, the words were hidden from sight. Hoseok took it upon himself to explain the game, saying you’ll be explaining words to each other using only your body. In the first round, Haon will be the one describing, while you guess, and in the second, vice versa. Six points and above were considered a win, there were two passes and one minute per round.

“I don’t think this is a good idea, we have a collective sum of three braincells” Your boyfriend spoke, realizing that such a game maybe wasn’t one of his strongest fields. Laughing quietly while walking towards your position, you listened to the funny exchange between him and Jiyoon.

“Three work better than none” The woman tried encouraging the boy, patting him softly on the back.

“The problem is all three of them are hers” Haon replied, a teasing tone noticeable in his words. The older giggled, pushing him softly towards his own position, shaking her head while doing so. Lim stood a few steps behind you, holding the papers high above his head so the boy describing could easily see the words. The countdown began and in a matter of three seconds, you were thrown into the game.

A minute passed by way too quick for your liking. It was as if you’ve only had enough time to properly think about two of the terms the other was mimicking, when in fact you’ve managed to do quite well. Succeeding on guessing explosion, roller coaster and cute, with a pass on police officer, you thought you’ve done well enough. For the first round, you were very proud of the both of you. Now the team only needed to get three more right, to win the game.

Unfortunately, this word set appeared to be a lot harder than the last. Still, somehow, with incredulous amounts of effort and teamwork, you’ve managed to succeed on cloud, phoenix and leaf with a pass on machine. Hearing someone yell “PASS” sent both youngsters into overdrive.

Cheers of celebration echoed throughout the wide space, as you all but yeeted yourself across the room. Succeeding appeared to be a huge accomplishment, even though it was just a simple game. You ran across the studio, occasionally throwing glances at the rest. Haon was wiggling his body like a spaghetti, making weird noises to emphasize his happiness. Once in arms reach, he lifted you off the ground and spun around. As a succession gift, the pair was gifted a Korean beef set, that managed to increase their already huge amount of happiness.

The next segment was calmer than the last. The MCs discussed a little bit more of your life and daily routines, still curious about how you were managing everything. They brought up some funny pictures and videos you’ve posted together in the past two weeks, and listened to the stories behind them – especially the video where you were running away from a flock of angry ducks at a local park, all while Haon was sneakily laughing and recording. Or the one where he was trying to make a certain type of pastry and managed to completely drown himself in flour. Of course, the picture you snapped then was immediately posted on Instagram.

When the hosts introduced the next game, your interest was immediately earned. Although alone, it actually was something you’ve practiced before, therefore doing it with your boyfriend shouldn’t be that challenging.

The explanation was brief and clear. You will be shown a yoga pose for exactly half a second and will then have twenty to recreate it as accurately as possible. Two executed poses are a success.

Apparently, this was supposed to showcase another side of your teamwork and compatibility. Just how the hosts imagined the game to prove your compatibility was beyond the couple, but as long as you had fun, nothing else mattered.

Feeling a rush of confidence from the last game, you stood up and approached the little screen that will be displaying the poses. Haon joined in and you were shown the first picture not long after. A gasp left your lips.

“Tell me I didn’t see that well” You whispered, surprise evident both in your voice but also eyes. Seeing your confused face, the boy was ready to explain, but upon noticing the clock already ticking down your precious twenty seconds, he realized there was no time for it.

“Unfortunately, you did, now hurry!” He said, already moving to mirror the pose of the man on that picture. It was easy for him to hurry, when his part of the pose was way easier. Carefully approaching him, you stood on his foot with yours, then looked back.

“I swear if you drop me-”

“Wouldn’t be the first time now, would it?”

“Just please don’t drop me this time” You pleaded, letting Haon grab the other leg by the ankle and slowly lift it up. Thanks to the idol training, you were quite flexible so the boy easily lifted your leg in the wanted position. Crossing yourself, you dared to push forward, screaming when the force on the ankle pulled you into a secure position and prevented the fall from happening. At that moment, your heart beat faster than ever. Extending arms forward, the pose was finished and you listened to the last few seconds tick away.

The second one seemed to not have put you in a wishful position either, but it was easier than the last one. You took the black shoes off while Haon executed the downwards dog, strengthening his back so you could easily climb up. Shifting all weight on strong arms and stepping backwards (and carefully) on Haon’s back, you stopped only when you reached his hips and were folded into a 90-degree angle. Once again, the clock ticked away, the MCs screaming ‘PASS’ and coming over to assist you coming down.

It was only easy yoga, yet the both of you gasped hard for air afterwards. A weak fist of celebration was risen into thin air, as you sat down cross legged, still somewhat dizzy and disoriented. The camera made sure to zoom in everyone’s face, from different angles, eager to catch raw reactions. Haon on the other hand, although out of breath, was able to talk and stand up. He decided to go grab water for you, commenting on the experience while walking.

“I don’t know how it showed our compatibility, but it for sure proved how out of shape we are if we managed to get out of breath like this”

You were given two minutes to calm down and have makeup checked (for the nth time that day), before the shoot continued. For the next, and at the same time last segment, you were seated again, speaking with the MCs about different goals and future plans. They allowed you to be as cliché and cute as possible, listening to the long bucket list of things you wanted to do together. Lim took a teasing approach and asked if you had any plans about the future wedding, to which your face flushed and turned a bright red shade. You were still pretty young, and there were a lot of things both had to experience and achieve before settling down; but it would be a lie to say that such thoughts haven’t crossed your mind. Haon decided to play along and replied with a laugh, saying that once it happens, all three of them will be invited.

The show wrapped up in a beautiful atmosphere. You were asked to perform another one of your collaborations, which was a slower, ballad song. Your hands stayed intertwined throughout the whole performance, only letting go at the last few lines. Then, you raised one arm up, meeting Haon’s just above your head, succeeding at forming a lovely heart.

The director yelled ‘CUT’ and the filming finished. Politely bowing to every one of the show’s staff, you walked away from the set, proudly holding the big set of Korean beef.

The next week, when the episode officially aired, you were nervous checking the reviews, still unsure how such a wide audience would react to it. Thankfully, as the two of you sat comfortably on the bed, in each other’s embrace, scrolling down the comment section, you couldn’t find a single negative remark. There were two million views already, and ten thousand comments, all of them filled with praise, delight and support.

“They’re nations new couple!”

“Look just how cute they are!”

“Their interactions are so precious; their chemistry is so strong!”

“Haonnie, we know you’re going to take good care of our angel!”

“They’re so close... I wish I had someone as precious as she does T.T”

And maybe, just maybe, that was all you had to see to finally experience full happiness with the boy your heart loved more than anything ever.

A/N: Here it is! My first request! Thank you so much for requesting and giving me a chance to write such a scenario <3 Also thank you for introducing me to Haon, i’ll keep up with him from now on <3 Hope you enjoyed reading this!

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sayingthesamethings · 5 years

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Magic Shop (Part 3)

Pairing: Poly!BTS x Witch!Fem!Reader

Summary: Underneath the concrete and pavement, between the towering buildings, Seoul is thrumming with magic. Too much magic. It’s become a hot spot for magical beings seeking to feed off of such intense energy. BTS is unaware of such dangers until they come across a witch trying to manage the mischief of other magical creatures while creating her own trouble.

Warnings: Language

Author’s Note: I’m so sorry that it took this long for part three! It’s much shorter than I would’ve liked for it to be, but I really struggled with this transition for some reason. Thank you for being so patient, and please enjoy this part!

(Name) pinched the bridge of her nose and watched as the boys tried, multiple times, to open the door. Growing tired of their futile attempts, she sat on her cushioned stool to continue with making her concoction.

“I’m going to save you all some time and let you know that it won’t open,” she announced as she absentmindedly twirled her finger in the air to command the grinding stick to continue mixing the contents of the medicine bowl.

“(Name),” Namjoon warned. (Name) pursed her lips and continued to searched through her sealed vials full of different colored liquids. “(Name),” Namjoon called shortly.

Relenting, (Name) threw her hands up. “What?” she cried. Namjoon raised a brow before motioning to the door wordlessly. “I panicked, okay?”

“You panicked and locked us in the room with you,” Yoongi summarized.

(Name) shrugged. “And also created a temporary pocket dimension, but yeah. That sounds about right.” The members of BTS began to panic.

“Are you magic?” Hoseok asked in fear. (Name) ran a hand through her hair and roughly sighed.

“No, I’m not magic. I use magic. You would call me a witch,” she corrected.

Quietly, Jungkook commented, “But magic’s not real.”

A hot anger welled up in (Name)’s chest. The hackles on Jaewon’s back raised as he bared his small fangs. There was a sudden drop in temperature that the group of men couldn’t ignore. A few of the members were quick to catch on and roughly nudged the maknae from several different directions.

“Well, Jungkook. I can assure you that magic is very much real.” (Name) fell silent as she took a moment to recollect herself and take a few deep breaths.

Taehyung leaned over to whisper in their youngest boyfriend’s ear, “How else is she moving the stick, Kookie?” Jungkook shuffled awkwardly and looked to the ground.

“You can even ask Namjoon. He would know,” (Name) passively commented. The six men turned to their leader, who held his hands up in defense.

“How was I supposed to know?” (Name) rolled her eyes.

“How else would you be able to slip right by a crowd of fans without anyone stopping you?” she retorted as she grabbed the correct vial containing a silver liquid.

Jin slapped Namjoon’s arm and nagged, “I knew you were up to no good!” Jimin’s eyes darted between the eldest and the witch calmly mixing.

“Uh, Jin-hyung. I really don’t think that’s the problem right now,” Jimin said as he shuffled closer to Jin and Namjoon.

(Name) raised a brow. “What would be the problem then?” The room fell into a tense silence as she finished making her drink and poured the bowl into her mug. There was steam rising from the cup despite the fact that (Name) had not touched a heat source the whole time she was making her drink.

“Well, you kinda locked us in a room,” Hoseok offered hesitantly, still a bit on edge from being pulled into the room and the door slamming shut by an invisible force.

(Name) bashfully took a sip from her mug and replied, “Sorry. I didn’t want you guys running out yelling about how I’m a witch. That would be bad for our shop.” She pet Jaewon, still on edge, and sighed. “You have to at least let me explain.”

Jimin looked at (Name) through his bangs and quietly asked, “You won’t hurt us?” She nodded.

“I told Namjoon earlier. I can’t hurt you as long as he wears that ring,” she answered. With a shrug, she included, “Not that I hurt civilians in the first place.”

“Wait, you didn’t say that,” Namjoon interrupted. (Name) tilted her head to the side and hummed in contemplation.

She said, “Huh. Maybe I didn’t.” She shrugged halfheartedly and brought her mug to her lips. “Yeah, that ring you’re wearing is enchanted with a binding spell.” Not entirely caring about their reactions, she took a long sip.

Namjoon jumped and checked his hand. He didn’t remember slipping the ring back onto his finger.

Jin echoed, “A binding spell?” The female took a moment to swallow before answering.

“There are multiple variations of a binding spell,” she assured, as if that was supposed to make sense to the group of idols.

When (Name) showed no signs of explained further, Jin spoke up. “And that means?” (Name) set her mug down and allowed Jaewon to hop off her shoulders to curl up on the counter.

“The spell on Namjoon’s ring is a two-way spell,” (Name) began with small hand motions. “A binding spell that works two ways is primarily focused on the flow of magic from one individual to another.”

“So why is it called a binding spell?” Taehyung inquired.

(Name) responded, “Well, the original spell’s intent was close to slavery, but that's the one-way version of the spell. Scholars have only just recently drafted the two-way version in hopes to replace the misuse and abuse of the original spell. Nowadays, the original is only used for detaining.”

“That still doesn’t explain why it’s called that,” Taehyung huffed.

“Eh, there’s an argument that the spell hasn’t changed enough to call it original and warrant a new name,” (Name) answered.

Namjoon frowned. “What does all of this have to do with the day we met?”

“Because I gave you my ring, I was able to project my magic and create a basic illusion spell on you.” (Name) patiently waited for the information to soak in for the men by flipping through her spell book. “Jaewon, can you rewrite the page on tupple plants? I need to change the description.” She swirled the contents of her mug and commented, “Thank you, by the way, for letting me test the spell and ring on you. It’s hard to get someone to try stuff out for me.”

“You were testing a spell on him?” Yoongi scoffed in disbelief.

(Name) stared at the rapper in thought before saying, “Oh. Sorry. For you know, not asking.” Yoongi made a sour face.

“Do you ever ask someone before fucking with their lives?”

“Yoongi,” Jin warned.

Jungkook argued quietly, “Suga-hyung has a point, hyung.”

“That doesn’t mean he needs to swear!” Yoongi rolled his eyes at the eldest.

He said, “Who knows what she’s been doing the whole time Joon’s been wearing that damn ring?”

(Name) frowned, a little more that offended. “Namjoon, are you upset?” The others stopped arguing and looked to their leader, who was staring back at the witch with his lips pressed into a firm line and his brows deeply furrowed.

Was he upset?

Namjoon had to ask himself the question mentally. Trying to sort his emotions out, he identified his immense fear of the unknown factor surrounding (Name). She was a walking enigma. Even so, there was an undeniable interest for something he couldn’t quite place. Curiosity, even. Towards magic, perhaps?

But no, not anger. He couldn’t find any trace within himself.

As if she could sense this, (Name) grinned. She set her mug down and crossed her legs.

“I didn’t think how I got him out of the situation mattered,” she excused with a shrug. Jin sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “He agreed to the terms I set, and I worked my magic,” she stated with a pause after. Her lips twitched upwards. “Literally.”

Jin said, “While I appreciate getting Joon out of trouble, there is a problem with using magic on him.” (Name) rolled her eyes with a huff.

“Okay, so I see that there’s a ‘problem,’” she generalized while eyeing the on edge, younger men. “Well, this is awkward.” She pulled a clean medicine bowl in front of her and began tossing brightly colored leaves and odd shaped fruits in.

Taehyung looked between Yoongi and (Name) before hesitantly speaking. “So what happens now?” The witch hummed in contemplation without taking her eyes off of the bowl in front of her.

“Oh, that’s easy.” Placing everything down gently, (Name) stood up from her stool and brushed off her clothes as if she had been sitting there long enough for dust to collect. She cleared her throat unnecessarily and called, “Jaewon. A little help, please.”

The ferret opened a single eye to glower up at his owner. (Name) returned the narrow look to which the ferret huffed at and reluctantly rose from his resting position. Jaewon effortlessly leaped the distance from the counter top to (Name)’s shoulder, now appearing alert.

The leather bound book rose from the counter. (Name) levitated it in front of her, and began chanting.

To time alone are memories lost, Forget me not and pay the cost

The air began to physically shift and chill. As if the weather outside had suddenly changed, the sunlight streaming through the stained glass of the windows began to dim at an alarming rate. The wind originating from apparently nothing picked up to the point where the members of BTS had to shield themselves.

Forsake my being and all that it is, For I am a moment you shall not miss

At the center of the vortex, (Name) levitated a few inches from the ground. The gems of her necklaces and rings glowed eerily. A wave of dizziness enveloped the idols, and they were beginning to feel the room sway.

Their visions swam and became murky. Despite the wind kicking up around them, (Name)’s voice rang as clear as day.

Time shall flow just as it has, And in time this too shall pass

“...oys? Boys!” their manager, Sejin, yelled. They jumped and glanced around wildly. The filming crew were close to packing up, and almost all of the makeup and design team had left.

“Oh,” Namjoon mumbled and rubbed at his eyes. “Manager-hyung, what’s wrong?”

The older male huffed and crossed his arms. “Were any of you paying attention to what I was saying?” Namjoon’s jaw dropped, and he looked to his boyfriends for assistance, but they were just as confused as he was. “I’ll take that as a no. We’re all done here. Take your drinks with you to the van,” he instructed as he adjusted the coat hanging over his arm.

The male idols had to shake off and blink away the dream like trance they found themselves in.

“We’ll be right there, hyung,” Jin, being one of the first to recover, said with a small smile. Sejin hummed with a nod before motioning for them to follow. The idols reluctantly did as they were told and scurried towards the entrance.

Namjoon stopped before the door and motioned for the others to stop as well. He turned towards the counter and bowed, to which the rest of the group followed.

“Thank you for your time,” he announced, and the others echoed.

(Name) smiled from where she was leaning on the counter and offered a flirty wave.

“We hope to see you again!” she cheered. The bell above the door chimed one last time before the shop’s lively atmosphere abruptly died. (Name)’s gaze never left the door, and a slow, methodical hum buzzed through the air.

Jaewon slowly crept out from his hiding place underneath the counter and curled up across (Name)’s shoulders. The ferret looked at the witch quizzically.

“I’m gonna miss them,” (Name) sighed wistfully. Jaewon narrowed his gaze. Catching her familiar’s lack of amusement, (Name) wholeheartedly laughed, even going as far as throwing her head back. “So what if I’ll see them soon?” she retorted before bringing her mug to her lips. Before drinking the rest of her concoction, she grinned wickedly.

“I can’t wait to play again.”

#bts x reader #bts x female reader #poly bts #poly bts x reader #poly bts x fem reader #fem!reader #fem reader #fem!witch!reader #bts x witch!reader #poly!bts #poly!bts x reader #poly!bts x fem!reader

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justimajin · 5 years

Text

A Wilting Rose╰ Epilogue╮

➺ Pairing: Jimin x Reader

➺ Genre: Angst & Fluff~

↳ (2.5k) Actor and Actress AU

➺ Summary: It seems that instead of spiraling down as a tarnished actress for what felt like centuries, you have finally started to leave reporters speechless and taste success like never before (and maybe, just maybe, it pays to have someone so endearingly adorable by your side with each step of the way).

➺ Warnings: some swearing, fluff that is definitely smile worthy

➺ Moodboard Prologue Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Epilogue

Wincing when bright flashes keep continuing to go off, loud muffled roars are heard coming from outside the car and you almost want to laugh.

Surely if you were here a couple of months ago, you wouldn’t be seeing all these curious eyes and pure excitement that you were witnessing right now.

“Should we go and say hi?” The voice to your left asks, causing a chuckle to escape from you as you peer out of the long black limousine.

“I’m not too sure, they seem more excited about the movie’s release then we do.” You point over to the array of fans patiently waiting for you past the reporters and journalists. You can’t recall how long its been since you’ve seen so many of them together in one place like that, simply waiting for you and you only.

Jimin laughs, “That’s definitely true.” With a deep sigh, he adjusts the tie to his red suit for perhaps the seventh time, wiping his hands down on his pants right after.

A faint smile surfaces on your lips, “It’s not that bad, trust me.”

A brief smile flickers on his features and he nods. You slowly open the door, jolting back a bit and alarming Jimin behind you when shouts and screams suddenly enter the confines of the limo. Although you’d like to reassure Jimin about situations like these, you can’t help but also find it quite daunting to see so many people surrounding you at once.

You strain your eyes against the abundance of flashes when you step out, dragging out your sparkling red dress. Jimin is right behind you, adjusting his suit once again as he helps you get your long skirt out of the limo. The wind breezes through and the dress glides effortlessly through the red carpet, causing you to smile and wave back at the fans anticipating your movie.

As Jimin stand beside you, reporters soon surround you and are darting quick questions back and forth amongst each other. Most of the questions are fair game - inquires about your movie being made and the type of performance the audience would get to witness. A huge smile is on you when Jimin gets special ‘debutant’ questions and he answers them all with loads of excitement, wanting to properly explain how grateful he was for such an opportunity.

However, reporters will be reporters.

“The fans have been dying to know about your personal lives, is there any hint you can give us towards a relationship between the two of you?”

Glancing over at Jimin, you wonder if talking about this specifically here was a good idea. However before Jimin even has the chance to say anything, the reporter begins to persist, spiking up a conversation you were definitely not huge on talking about, “Rumours have spread about your ex-husband’s appearance on filming. Could it be perhaps the two of you are now back together?”

You hesitantly open your mouth and the dirty mike is only shoved closer to you despite no words coming out. You close it again, thinking what you could possibly say to get this reporter out of your personal and certainly emotional place, but then you feel a small nudge at your shoulder and you turn to Jimin, who has a huge grin on his face.

He kisses you.

Screams suddenly erupt from behind you and yet Jimin doesn’t stop. You had turned to him in such a perfect angle that he was able to reach your lips instantly and he separates from you with a cheeky smile on his face, the faint blush on his cheeks still there as always.

You on the other hand, are too caught up in wide eyes and shock from the interaction that looking back at the reporter just leaves you purely flustered.

You shrug, “T-There’s your answer…”

With a faint awkward chuckle, Jimin loops an arm around your waist and walks you away from the reporters. The fans are still going absolutely ecstatic at the interaction and you hear a spread of words from among them about how adorable you looked together to even how much your pairing looked better than the one you had with Seokjin.

“Now that was a little bold.”

Jimin laughs, walking inside the hall with you and helping you with your dress above the steps, “Sorry, I didn’t know what else to do.”

You shake your head at that but then you place a hand on his arm, stopping him from walking forward, “I’m a little surprised though...all these fans, being this excited for us.”

“Well the movie has been getting more and more good reviews.” A small smile emerges on his lips, despite his best efforts to conceal it, “And maybe thanks to Yoongi.”

“Yoongi? What does he have to do with this?”

“Remember how after Seokjin decided to show up at our set, he found out about those journalists posting all those horrible articles about us? He knew it was an attempt at jeopardizing the movie’s image, so after doing some research...it turned out it was the same media that supported Seokjin when you broke up with him.”

“What?” You harshly whisper, glancing away and trying to connect the dots, “So the media that labeled me as being the heart-breaker were affiliated with Seokjin from the start?”

Jimin nods and you cover your mouth, “I-I can’t believe this…” Gritting your teeth, you shake your head, “That bastard!”

“He paid off all of them Y/N. He just wanted to hear them sing praises about him in those articles and have this movie perform horribly in the box office.”

“But you know Yoongi.” Jimin laughs, “He wasn’t going to let this go. So he might of pulled some strings here and there, to get an article about the truth out.”

A chuckle bubbles out of you at that, “I swear Jimin, this director of ours…”

“You can thank him yourself right now if you want.” Jimin points to the end of the red carpet and your mouth drops wide open when you see Yoongi clad in a gorgeous grey suit, walking along the carpet as reporters ask him questions. He has a huge gummy smile on his lips, one you’ve never seen him ever have and after the reporters move away, he starts posing in absurd ways, causing both you and Jimin to laugh.

“I do owe him a huge thank you, but I think he’s a little busy right now.” You gesture Jimin to continue walking down the hall and he smiles, joining you and intertwining your hands.

The movie is a huge success.

The high numbers rake in, the fans are buzzing with excitement and multiple articles come out about you with headlines declaring that the industry has just found a new promising newcomer and how one of it’s best actresses was back with an excellent movie.

You don’t truly realize how much you and Jimin both needed the praise until the last one settles in and you’re soon off at your prime again, everyone surrounding you and wanting to know about it all.

It even opens more doors than you could have imagined, especially when you’re seated at a huge award function and are choking down on your wine when the best debut actor gets announced.

He stands up hesitantly at first, looking first at you with wide eyes when there’s tears forming in your own and you quickly usher him to go onto the large stage. Fans are chanting his name in the background and a gold trophy is awarded into his hands, looking out into the sea of a crowd with words slipping at the tip of his tongue.

“First of all, I’d like to thank Director Min Yoongi for giving me a chance with this role…”

He goes further on, thanking every single member of the cast and staff, causing you to be a bit surprised at how well he was able to remember everyone, before he reaches the end of his speech. A part that makes you want to cover your face bashfully with a hand, but at the same not take your shining proud eyes off of him.

“....and lastly but definitely not the least, I’d like to thank my co-star and girlfriend for giving me so much support during the making of our movie. Thank you so much Y/N L/N...and I love you.”

He whispers those last words so quickly in the mic before jogging away from the stage and yet you can hear them perfectly all the way from where you’re seated. He runs away to you to be greeted with a soft kiss and you can’t stop grinning at the shining trophy he places on the table.

“So?” You lean over, “How does it feel best debutant actor?”

Jimin shakes his head, sounding breathless before smiling, “I can’t believe it. I know I worked hard for this but it just feels like...a lot.”

You hold his hand, “You know you deserve it right? You played a seriously good General.”

Jimin playfully smirks at you, “You sure sound like you enjoyed me playing that role.”

“What can I say? I miss the blue hair.” You play around with his now back to black hair.

“I really don’t. I would have gone bald with the amount of times Yoongi made me dye my hair.”

You laugh at that, covering your mouth with one hand and Jimin soon joins in as well, but your laughter is suddenly cut off when you hear the next category being said.

“And the award for best movie goes to….”

“SCARLET LOVERS!”

You and Jimin simply stare at each other for a moment, utterly speechless until you suddenly hear a huge uproar from another side of the room followed with unison clapping from the entire audience. You turn your head over to the source of the uproar only to witness a smug Yoongi walking over to the podium with confident strides, a huge smile on his face once the award is placed in his hands.

He frowns for a moment, wondering why the stage was so empty as he leans towards the mic, “I don’t think I was the only one that made this movie possible.”

The audience laughs and he shakes his head, “Where’s my entire cast and crew?!”

Suddenly everyone from your movie is heading up the stage and it causes the realization that you and Jimin will have to go as well so you carefully begin to stand up and Jimin helps you with your dress once again.

Yoongi speaks into the mic when everyone has come up except for you two, “Y/N. Jimin. That means you guys too.”

You glare at him when your struggling with your dress and you walk up to the stage with Jimin helping you, joining Yoongi’s side as he begins to thanks everyone. He then tugs over you and Jimin, setting both of you in the front of the mic. “This movie couldn’t have been made without these two and I want them to know that in the future, if they ever are in need for work, not to hesitate in coming to me.”

You and Jimin look at him with huge smiles and he gives you both a hug. Once he brings his arms around you, you whisper into his ear, “Really Yoongi? How many times are you going to keep helping me?”

“As long as you stay as the actress you are.” Yoongi smiles, “You got potential. Don’t throw it away because some guy caused the media to go after you.”

You nod, holding onto Jimin’s hand and then giving a grand bow to your entire cheering audience.

“What a night!”

Jimin flops onto the bed, discarding his suit jacket to the side and sinking down into the mattress as you face your dresser mirror to take your earrings off. “I forgot how long award shows can be. There’s literally no end to them.”

Jimin sits up on his arms, sticking out his fingers, “Four hours!” He slumps back down, “And I thought filming was bad enough…”

You turn around, smiling at him, “Welcome to the world of acting~”

He lets out a low chuckle, “By the way, did you get a chance to talk to Yoongi afterwards?”

“I did.” You get up, walking over to comb out your hair, “But he was still busy. This time with having a staring contest with his trophy.”

Jimin laughs, “He was talking about wanting to win badly after all. And you did end up being right, Yoongi’s scary...but he is a genius.”

“Yep.” You plop down onto the bed with a sigh, rolling over to be closer to him and he lets you rest your head on his arm, “That’s Min Yoongi for you.”

You stay like that for a moment, the remains of the night slowly beginning to fizzle out and the tiredness seeping in.

“Hey Y/N?” Jimin whispers when he sees your eyes slowly closing.

“Hmm?”

“Do you want to go somewhere tomorrow? We finally have a day off without any filming schedules planned.”

Your eyes flutter open, looking up at him, “Are you asking me out Jimin?”

He smiles, his eyes crinkling, “That depends on whether you still have those floppy hats and sunglasses.”

“As a matter of fact, I still do.” You raise an arm, pointing over to your closet, “So don’t worry, no one is going to recognize us.”

He laughs, turning over to his side to face you lying down as he whispers.

“Sounds perfect.”

***

Roses are typically grown with such care and love, blooming fully without any other factors stunting their growth or causing them to wilt. They start off as only mere stems with a tip, which slowly expand and form multiple petals to create an entire layout, unique to each individual rose.

They are plucked when those passing by see how beautiful they’ve become and of course, the prettiest ones are always the most favoured ones.

However, each rose has thorns.

They aren’t immediately visible to the plucker’s eyes right away and are only discovered when the plucker looks past their pretty petals to find out indeed, a rose can have thorns on its stems.

Thorns can be pulled off, they can be cut away and yet they will still grow back every time.

Therefore it’s only seems right to accept that such pretty flowers will always be accompanied with excruciating sharp thorns.

He stares at one, touching its thorn with the tip of his finger carefully, “But is it possible for roses to have no thorns at all then?”

You shake your head, smiling as you pluck up one that looks especially beautiful, having many hidden petals as well as some of it’s own thorns, however upon plucking it you aren’t pricked to the point of drawing out blood.

You tuck behind his ear.

“There are some roses that can be extremely rare,” A huge grin is on your lips, eyes flickering over to his curious one, “and those ones have just the right amount of thorns.”

#btswriterscollective #kwritersworldnet #jimin fanfic #jimin fluff #bts jimin fanfic #bts jimin fluff #jimin actor au #park jimin fanfic #jimin angst #bts fanfic #bts fluff #bts angst #bts actor au #bts imagines #bts scenarios

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asparrowandaswann · 4 years

Text

C2: RETURN TO SHIPWRECK COVE. PART 3#

The room was small and bare, with a bed which she could tell from a glance creaked terribly. A chest of drawers, empty. A chair with a woven seat stood against the wall. A small table sat in the corner, an old pot of ink, but no papers, no quill. An inch-thick layer of dust covered everything, as Teague had warned. No one had entered this room for quite some time. She could find nothing personal. Nothing which could tell her about Jack, from when he was simply Jackie. Jackie Teague. The boy before the legend. A pang of disappointment gripped her stomach. She had hoped to know him better. Something of his childhood which he would never have told her himself.

Nevertheless, the room smelled of him. As though he had just left the room. Something spiced, a vague hint of sandalwood, and... sweat. Quite overpoweringly of sweat, in fact, considering he hadn't set foot in the room for Lord knows how long. And there was something else... something...

Elizabeth moved towards the bed, the bedding seeming to be the source of the smell, as, where else could his scent be coming from? She pulled back the covers gingerly, and gasped, leaping back. Blood. Dark, old, blackened blood. With a brave sweep, she pulled away the thin blankets entirely. The bed was soaked through. Or had been, some time ago.

Just then, there was a knock at the door.

"Yes?" Her voice broke. She couldn't take her eyes off the blood, wondering whose it was, and hoping to God that it wasn't Jack's.

The door inched open with a creak, and when she turned, she saw a little man, grey and slightly bowed, backing into the room, carrying a stack of linens in his arms as he pushed the door open with his shoulder.

"'ere y'are, yer Kingly-ness." His voice was smooth and grandfatherly, and as he turned, kind blue eyes caught her worried gaze, following it to the bed. The man shook his head sadly. "Aye, t'was a bad time, that."

"What happened here?"

The man placed the bedding down on the wicker chair, taking a moment first to wipe away the best of the dust with a rather soiled handkerchief.

"I've been 'ere since Jackie were a wee lad." He explained, stripping the bloodstained bedding away as he did so. "I was born int' piratin', but truth be told, never been much good a' sea. Much prefer land, so I found myself 'ere, amongst me own, withou' 'avin' t' do much wot pirates be doin'. The lad weren' like tha', though. It surprised no one when 'e ran off t' the sea the momen' 'e turned four'een, withou' so much as a 'bye, pops' to ol' Teague. 'E'd come back now and then, though... always sportin' an injury which needed seein' t'."

Elizabeth's eyes widened. So it was Jack's blood.

"Aye, Miss." The man said, seeing her worry. "There were one particular night... nigh ten years ago or so, now. The boy came stumblin' back, 'avin' sailed 'ere in a little scrap of a boat, with a man named Gibbs. 'Is only crew a' the time, though if you'd seen this boat of 'is, 'e were in no need of a crew. It were small enough to be manned alone. No, 'e'd lost 'is ship, the Pearl, quite recently, in fact, and was still cut up about it. Loves that ship like a mistress, 'e does. So, Gibbs practically carried 'im up 'ere, up the hill, screamin' the whole way for a doc'or. Obviously, place like this, we 'ave one, an' we give 'm enough business to keep 'im 'ere. Doc'or Grove, is 'is name. 'E saw to the lad. 'E'd been shot, twice." The man patted his chest, just over his heart. "T'was a near miss. A few inches further south an'... Well, Teague were furious with 'im. The lad 'ad 'ad a pistol, after all, but 'e'd refused to use it. 'That bullet weren' mean' fer 'im, Dad', 'e kept sayin'. Never seen old Teague so mad, I ain'." Taking the straw mattress, which was also stained straight through, he carried it out into the hallway, returning moments later with a replacement. "This were pillaged just a week ago from a fine Spanish galleon. Should be more fittin' for a King." It was too large for the small bed frame, hanging limply onto the floor, but Elizabeth was grateful all the same.

"I've seen Jack's scars." Elizabeth confessed, thinking back to their time on the island, having been mutinied by Barbossa. She thought of the dark cloud which had crossed Jack's gaze as he had drawn back his sleeves. "How on Earth did he survive?"

The man glanced towards the skies. "Miracle, I reckon. That lad's seen 'is fair share. Someone's smilin' down at 'im, scoundrel though 'e is. 'E must 'ave charmed an angel in a prior life, I reckon. Nah, 'e pulled through by the skin of 'is teeth. I s'pose no one thought to change the beddin'. 'e only ever comes by with some injury or other, when this is the closest friendly bit of land with a doc'or. Whatever 'e lies on would only get soiled again anyway." He busied himself, tucking fine sheets - no doubt taken also from a fine galleon - as best he could under the oversized mattress, and fluffing a fresh goose pillow.

"And that was the last time? That Jack was here?"

"Aye." He brushed his hands together as he stood back to admire his work. "Though..." His face froze, and he half-turned, smiling at Elizabeth with a glint in his cornflower-blue eyes. "Now I come to think of it, there were one other time since. Quite recen'ly, in fact. Couple years back. 'E'd just gotten 'is Pearl back, I believe, an' it were once again ol' Gibbs who brought Jack 'ere, the lad staggerin' an' shoutin' that 'e didn' need no doc'or, 'e just needed 'is Pearl, but Gibbs knew best, as always."

Elizabeth's eyes widened. That must have happened since they had met, after she had watched him from the battlements of Port Royal, sailing into the distance. "What happened?"

"Fever. 'E'd caught summit nasty from some tribe, an' it were burnin' through him. Delirious, 'e were. Rantin' an' ravin' one minute, weepin' into the pillow, the next." He was eying Elizabeth curiously now, watching her. She shifted uncomfortably. "After all 'e'd survived before, no one doubted for a moment that 'e wouldn't pull through. A legend like 'e's carved out for 'imself, 'e could 'ardly go down to a fever, now, could 'e? But it were a nasty sickness, all the same. I remember one evenin', the night before the fever broke, I came in carryin' a tray of broth, to try an' get summit into 'im, an' there were no one else there at the time but the doc'or. The lad were sleepin', so it seemed, but 'e were mutterin' t' 'imself, nonsense, as always, an' neither the doc'or nor I paid it much mind, until..." He stepped closer to Elizabeth now, his voice dropping to a mere whisper. "'E started speakin' a name."

A coil tightened in Elizabeth's gut. "A name?"

"Aye. Name of a woman. Chantin' it, quiet, like, under 'is breath. Now, it caught my attention because I know the lad not to be the settlin' sort. 'E's 'ad 'is flirtations, sure, but no one 'as ever truly caught 'is eye, to my knowledge. The doc'or noticed too, an' asked me if I recognised the name. I said I didn'. 'E stopped as soon as 'e started, an' 'e woke the next mornin', past the worst of it."

Elizabeth licked her lips, her mouth suddenly dry. She wasn't sure if she wanted to know. Obviously Jack had had his fair share of women, but to think that one would leave her mark enough for him to speak her name during his delusions. But of course, her curiosity was too great.

"What was the name?"

The man smirked. "Lizabeth."

Her face burned, and for a moment she lost herself, her mouth gaping with shock. He had spoken her name. They had parted ways, and yet he had chanted her name, calling for her, perhaps dreaming of her under the heavy sleep of fever. What could that mean, besides...?

Pulling her lips into a pout of indignation, she stepped back sharply. "Common enough name. No doubt the whorehouses of Tortuga are teaming with Elizabeths and Lizzys and Elizas and... I'd thank you not to look at me that way." She snapped at his knowing gaze. "And to keep any gossiping thoughts to yourself."

The man mimicked drawing a line across his lips in an oath of silence. "Believe me, Miss, with all that goes on 'ere, that would be one of the more mundane tidbits, anyway."

Still not convinced, she asked warily. "What is your name?"

"Perkins, Miss." He didn't bow, as the gentlemen of Port Royal would have. This was the Kingdom of Pirates, after all. "Pleasure's all mine."

She nodded her head curtly. "Thank you for replacing the bed. I think... I shall sleep now."

The bid him goodnight, locking the door behind him.

Sitting heavily onto the bed, the mattress dipping dangerously off the side of the bed-frame, she thought about all she had learnt that night. She imagined Jack, in this very room, as a young boy desperate to follow the call of the sea, until the urge had been too strong to resist any longer. She imagined him on this bed, writhing in agony while a doctor pulled the bullets from his chest. So much blood had been lost. How on earth had he survived? She imagined him bathed in sweat, sleeping in the bloodstains of his last visit, chanting for her, calling for her. She imagined herself, water bowl in hand, dabbing with a cloth at his brow, soothing him. Clinging to his hand as the doctor performed his crude surgery on his wounds. Stroking his hair as the wounds were cleaned with precious rum, and cauterised with red hot metal. She imagined them both, in this bed, whispering to each other...

Oh, you hussy. Her husband not but a few hours gone, and already she was picturing herself with another man. And not just any man. That man.

God, ten years was a long time, indeed. Her body had been awakened to sensual realities of womanhood, and she knew that she couldn't wait ten years. But as for him... no, she'd have to steer clear of him. Jack was as much a danger to her heart as to her body. He would worm his way into her heart, and stay there. And she must protect Will's heart, above all else. Protect it within her own.

But as for physical pleasure... she resolved again to find a way of communicating with Calypso. After all, all men took lovers, why not a Pirate King?

Removing her heavily armoured coat and belt, she slipped beneath the covers in her black dress, placing her effects on the ground, within easy reach. Glancing again to check the lock of the door, her hand skimmed over her thighs, her fingers travelling to that secret part of her. A part of her still sore from her hasty honeymoon. Flashes of images raced through her mind as she touched herself. A pair of dark, kind eyes. Strong, calloused hands on her bare waist. Her fingers tracing over a scar on a man's chest. Soft, greedy lips tasting her own. A wry smirk. A glint of gold.

Tipping herself into ecstasy, she let the night take her, and let her exhaustion claim her.

#fanfic the adventures of elizabeth swann #the adventures of elizabeth swann #elizabeth swann #sparrabeth #travellingtypewriter #travellingtypewriter fanfiction #travelling typewriter #fanfiction #fanfic #PotC #potc fanfic #potc fanfiction #pirates of the caribbean #chapter two #part three #return to shipwreck cove #shipwreck cove

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minnochu · 5 years

Text

Eggs (BTS Scenario)

BTS x Reader

(A/n): Heyoo. Decided to finish at least another request before I get overwhelmed by the last few weeks of the semester! But hey, that means it’ll be summer and I’ll have all the more time to work my ass off and update for you guys! Enjoy this little scenario, I hope it’s not too rushed or anything oof.

It was one of the most important end of the year award shows. Surprisingly enough, you were asked to perform a collab with one of the most popular boy groups in the industry. The Bangtan Boys. Your inner fangirl screamed it’s head off at the news your manager presented to you at the time.

You accepted within a heartbeat and looked forward to each practice with the seven boys. Just as you thought, they were kind and fun to be around. When mistakes were made, especially since you were but a clumsy newbie compared to them, they always laughed it off and encouraged you to keep going. You got to see how the boys interacted with each other and experienced being a part of their little tight knit family.

“You’ll be be on in five, get ready (Y/n),” one of the tech crew informs you as you prepare yourself backstage. The boys will go on before you, and you’ll join them after their first song. As they take their places, they pass you by with kind smiles. They can tell how jittery and nervous you are to be performing with such a famous band.

“You’ll do amazing (Y/n)!” Seokjin cheers, flashing his signature smile and raising two fists in a sign of encouragement.

“Don’t think too much,” Namjoon squeezes your shoulder briefly, his dimples prominent as he smiles, “You were amazing during practice, you’re going to kill it out there!”

You thank the boys’ kindness towards you, feeling like you don’t even deserve it when they were on a whole other level of talented in comparison. It had to be some kind of blessing that you were given this kind of chance to perform with them.

Breathing in and out, you nod and attempt to calm your racing heart as you hear the screams of tons of fans as BTS and your name is presented by the MC’s. It does nothing in calming your pre-show jitters, but you can only shift your feet and wring the microphone gripped harshly in your hands as you prepare yourself at the rising stage platform. You would be rising onto the stage once the music transitions to the next song.

I got this, you tell yourself in a soft chant inside your head.

The crew signals your cue to begin ascending, and you feel the motors come to life as the floor you’re standing on begins to rise. Inhaling softly, you assume your position as the lights focus on you and you feel the smiles of BTS turn to you. You thank their endless encouragement as you wait until the platform stops before moving to the music. A smile paints your face as you feel your heart flutter in excitement, fans cheering and screaming as you sing and dance with the boys just like you did in practice.

It was almost perfect.

Almost.

You thought your performance would go without a hitch, but you thought too soon. Like nothing you would ever believed could have happened, happened.

One by one, white oblongs were thrown from the crowd below. Gasps rang out from multiple audience members as you realized too late that these were in fact eggs, raw eggs that splattered all over you on impact. It made you shudder at the gross sensation of the eggs smearing down the side of your face, sticking to your hair and ruining your clothes. You were careful not to step onto the ones that landed on the ground, but you flinched at the ones that hit you on your torso and cheeks. Biting your lip, you squinted at its source to see a sign reading insults directed at you. Your heart falters, but you know you shouldn’t let it affect you and your performance with the boys.

The boys cast worried looks in your direction, but you wipe off the runny and slimy mess and continue with the rest of the song until its end as professionally as you could.

You don’t miss a beat, hurrying as fast as you could to your dressing room. Passing by idols and crew members look on in sympathy, some try to say something comforting but you hurry to your room to get changed and just be by yourself to wallow in your humiliation.

They find you curled up on the couch, hair wet as you had washed it over and over in the sink. You had shed the outer layer of your clothes, shuddering at the ruined fabric littered with yolk and pieces of the ivory shells. They carefully enter, making as little nose as possible, but you knew they were there.

You hoped they didn’t think any little of you for ruining their performance.

“The situation is being handled, security is escorting them out of the venue,” Namjoon’s voice speaks up with a cough as a weight presses down on the sofa to the side of you.

You look up to see Hoseok smiling down at you timidly, holding his arms out in an invitation for a hug. He recognizes your puffy eyes and wet cheeks, hugging you anyways without waiting for your move.

Yoongi, from behind the couch, places a comforting hand on your damp hair, “You handled the situation well, better than anyone would have, to be honest.” He offers a small smile as he looks away, “They said if you’re up for it, we can reshoot your performance part and it will edited into the playback for the upload.”

“The show was live though,” you pout, leaning back into the hug of the youngest three when they finally get Hoseok to let go of you, “This will be all over the internet!”

“Was I that bad?” you sigh exasperatedly, dropping your head onto Jimin’s shoulder.

“You were amazing (Y/n), don’t sweat it,” the leader sighs from beside Yoongi, “Don’t let this incident keep you from performing, you always do an amazing job.”

You feel shy at their endless compliments, feeling meek and even embarrassed that such a high tier group was complimenting you and here comforting you.

“Thanks guys.”

#bts scenarios #bts fanfic #bts x you #kpop scenarios #bts imagine #jungkook x reader #namjoon x reader #hoseok x reader #jimin x reader #seokjin x reader #yoongi x reader #taehyung x reader

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pitch-pearl-void · 5 years

Text

Pirates

Phantom leaned on the railing in front of his cabin and stared down at the deck where their prisoner for the past couple weeks was scrubbing up the rum Phantom had spilled. A strong wind billowed the sails above them, creating a thunderous racket that unfortunately drowned out whatever swears the boy was cursing.

Sam finished reading the letter a second time and spat the same word she had used after she had read the words aloud for Phantom's benefit the first time, "Fuck!"

Phantom smiled. Keeping his elbow balanced on the rail, he raised his left arm and rested his cheek on his palm. Daniel, their prisoner, turned slowly in a circle as he scrubbed viciously at the boards. Phantom wondered when he would notice part of the stain he was trying to clear was old blood and not recently spilled rum. Hopefully not before his ass pointed in Phantom's direction again. Lovely as his face looked, all flushed and sweaty with black hair clinging to his cheeks and forehead, pink, weather-bitten lips pulled into a snarl, there was something truly hypnotic about watching the rough sway of his ass as he scrubbed.

It was why Phantom had allowed the precious liquid to spill from his tankard in the first place.

"You can't keep him," Sam said over the snapping sail cloth. When Phantom didn't immediately respond, she hissed, "Captain."

"You read the letter," Phantom replied absently. "His father doesn't want him anymore."

"Then we kill him and dump his damn carcass on the governor's docks. You know how this works."

Daniel stopped scrubbing long enough to wipe his arm across his forehead, trying to brush his fringe away. Phantom was glad he had only had time to cut off the boy's ponytail back when they first seized him and that one of his crew had had the foresight to preserve as much of his hair as she could when she offered to fix it. Ember had probably noticed Phantom’s interest in their prisoner early on and chose to...exasperate the situation. Likely for her own amusement.

Daniel had finally stopped trying to keep the strings of Phantom's old shirt tied together, and the full expanse of his collarbone lay exposed. The loose shirt billowed freely in the wind where sweat didn't keep it pinned to Daniel's body.

"Captain!"

"Sam," Phantom said, "I think I'm in love..."

"The fuck you are!" His first mate slammed her fist onto the rail beside him. "You know what your are? You're five months from your last fuck and horny as a bitch in heat. Just drag him to your cabin and tumble him as often as you need to get him out of your system so we can get back to business."

"Such delicate language, Sammy," Phantom drawled, still not looking away from Daniel. He had gone back to scrubbing. "Your parents would be so proud."

"Shut the fuck up."

"I'm keeping him."

Sam spat a slew of curses. All the foul words she had been forced to swallow while her parents tried to make her into a proper lady spilling from her lips. Phantom didn't mind. He had heard worse, not that he would ever tell her. She would take it as a challenge.

"Look," he said once she paused to catch her breath, "the governor didn't just refuse to pay the ransom, he was as insulting as possible, and he never referred to his son by name. Not only does he not want his son back, I think he wants him dead. I'm not playing into that man's hands."

Sam thought that over for a second. Phantom heard parchment rustle behind him and realized she was reading it over for the third time, but in a new light. Phantom crossed the fingers of his hand he had allowed to dangle over the rail. He didn't need Sam's agreement, but life would be a great deal easier if she conceded the point.

Some spirit of the ether must have whispered in Daniel's ear that his fate was being discussed, because he looked up at that moment and caught Phantom staring at him. Blue eyes narrowed as they so often did on such occasions, and Phantom lifted an eyebrow as his smile grew. Daniel hadn't stopped scrubbing yet, much to Phantom's delight. Daniel didn't have much muscle to speak of, he had to throw his whole weight into scrubbing as he got tired, and his staring into Phantom's eyes as his body rocked back and forth was very...suggestive.

Tumbling him in the captain's quarter's was sounding more tempting by the moment.

He would never go for it, but Phantom's imagination and hand could probably make up for his absence. At least a little. Maybe.

The wind stalled, briefly allowing the sails to slacken, and Daniel took the opportunity to yell, "What are you staring at?" He put as much annoyance into the shout as he could manage, which was actually a lot. Phantom was impressed. Daniel also stopped scrubbing, which Phantom was less happy about.

"Just enjoying the view, love," Phantom called back. "Don't stop on my account." He motioned with his hand for Daniel to return to his task.

Chuckles cascaded across the deck, and Daniel looked around at the pirates, his jaw clenched as he tried to figure out the joke. He never seemed to realize Phantom was flirting with him, which was an endless source of entertainment for the crew. Perhaps he had yet to encounter men who preferred the company of other men, forced to hide beneath society's notice as they were, but it was also possible he existed in willful ignorance, smothering any thoughts about intimacy between his own sex.

Phantom hoped it was a little of both. If Daniel liked boys too but didn't realize he wasn't a freak, if the wool society had pulled over his eyes to make him feel normal was the reason why Phantom's flirtations kept flying over his head, then they could have a lot of fun once that barrier was removed. If he didn't like other men and that was why it never occurred to him Phantom might be flirting, well...

Phantom's hand and his imagination remained.

Perhaps even a dock boy at the next port, though he wasn't sure he would be able to handle Daniel's innocent confusion the following day. Or in general. He would end up imagining Daniel in the poor sod's place, he just knew it, and that would make things awkward all around.

He really just needed Daniel in his bed and that was all there was to it.

God, he hoped he liked men. Or was at least open to experimenting.

"If you're right about his father wanting him dead," Sam said, speaking slowly, "then he might send someone after us to make sure we do so. We still shouldn't keep him."

"I seem to recall your parents sending bounty hunters after us as well," Phantom replied.

A few suggestive cat calls and wolf whistles were sent Daniel's way, but as usual he didn't take them seriously. He huffed and scowled and made a rude gesture at those closest to him. They laughed at him, of course, and Phantom felt his own grin growing.

"Maybe they did, but I wanted to be a pirate." Sam pointed at Daniel as if Phantom's eyes weren't already fixated on their captive. "He wants to get back to his mommy. I say we drop him off at the next port and damn well let him find his own way back. Maybe give him some coin if your bleeding heart starts to pang."

"It's not just going to pang, Sam." Phantom pressed his right hand over his heart. "It will break. I'll pine for him. I'll be a ghost of myself. A true phantom."

"You'll definitely be a ghost in the next few seconds if you don't start taking this seriously," she snapped.

"I am being serious. You're the one who's not listening."

The wind billowed the sails again with a loud boom. The crew cheered the loud noise, but Daniel winced. Phantom hummed and waited to see if he would resume scrubbing the deck. He didn't. He bent his arm at the elbow then straightened it again, rubbing his bicep through his shirt as he repeated the motion a few more times. It seemed his arms were too sore to continue.

"You will turn us into some noble brat's bodyguards?" Sam demanded. "He's going to bring trouble down on all our heads, and you're just going to let it happen because you want to bed him? Well fucking do it and get it over with!"

Phantom shook his head and straightened from the railing. "There's more going on here, Sam. I won't make any hasty decisions until I get to the bottom of this."

Sam scoffed. "You mean until you get to the bottom of Vladimir Masters' agenda? Or his son’s literal bottom? Because you've definitely been salivating over one of those, and it wasn't the love letter we just got."

Phantom laughed, a light, quick sound. "Both!" He plucked the rolled parchment from Sam's hand and tapped it against his forehead in mock salute, smiling at her irritated expression. "So long as the boy stays safe in my care, I can get my answers and stare longingly at his ass all I want."

"You're making a mistake," Sam said, but Phantom could see she was already conceding the point. She had begun to befriend Daniel too, Phantom had seen her laughing with him just that morning. She was simply more pragmatic. And perhaps a little short-sighted.

"I'll add it to the list then." He turned away and began walking toward his cabin. When he reached the threshold, he boomed in a voice loud enough to be heard across the ship, "Bring me the prisoner!"

He heard Daniel shout and his crew roaring into action with a gleeful cheer. For some reason Daniel insisted on doing things the hard way. If Phantom wanted him in his cabin, Daniel would refuse and would have to be dragged into the room. Sure enough, several minutes of listening to his crew laugh and chant on the deck, a man holding Daniel's legs beneath his armpits walked backward into the cabin while another followed, holding Daniel's upper half by his forearms. The governor's son wiggled in their grip, his body twisting and bucking between them whilst he screeched insults about their mothers, their odor, their moral depravity, their ugly faces.

Phantom sat atop his desk, crisscrossed his legs, and leaned his cheek on his hand as he observed Daniel's struggles, a slow, appreciative smile curling his lips. He could watch the way Daniel contorted his body all day. His shirt was too loose to show off his torso, tucked into his pants so it couldn't ride up, but the pants Phantom had loaned him hugged his ass and thighs perfectly. The only fault in the image was that Phantom wasn't the one holding his legs himself.

The two crew members, Johnny and Shade, dropped Daniel directly in front of Phantom's desk and charged from the room before Daniel could finish rolling onto his front, howling suggestive well-wishes at their captain. They slammed the door behind them, but not before the crew outside cheered their return.

Daniel spat one last, "Pirates," like the word was a sour taste in his mouth before he finished pushing himself onto his feet. He turned a viscous, blue-eyed glare on Phantom, the captain of the hated pirates, but if he hoped to intimidate his captor, he was going about it the wrong way.

Phantom sighed dreamily, exaggerating only half the emotion seizing his heart. "You're too beautiful to be scary, love," he said. "It's like being glared at by a kitten—fierce but so cute."

"What do you want this time, Phantom?" Daniel demanded, ignoring the comment. "I was cleaning up your mess, I wasn't doing anything wrong."

"Captain," Phantom corrected. "Or Captain Phantom. Sir, if you prefer."

"I'm not part of your crew."

"No," Phantom agreed with a grin, "I just want to hear you say it. Preferably in my ear. Softly. Like a prayer."

Daniel's scowl grew more pronounced. His black hair still clung to the sweat on his face. "Can you stop being weird for five seconds and tell me why I'm here?"

"Ah, actually..." Phantom sat up straight, lifting his head off his hand. "I was hoping you could tell me." Daniel frowned, confused, so Phantom explained, "When we accepted this plan—you heard it was a plan we accepted from a third party, yes? Good—our original target was your sister. Our sources said she was the favored daughter, the one likely to fetch a higher ransom, but when we arrived at your estate, your sister and mother were gone, your father fleeing on a horse. The only one left in the villa besides the servants...was you. Locked in your room."

Phantom braced his elbows on his knees and leaned forward, staring into Daniel's eyes even as those blue irises looked away. The desk was a high one, and they were at eye-level despite Phantom sitting while Daniel stood. "We couldn't leave empty-handed, of course, so we adapted to the situation and took you with us in your sister's stead. We left the ransom demand for your father, along with details on how to make contact with us, and we finally received a response at our last landfall."

Phantom tossed the roll of parchment into the air and caught it as it fell. Daniel's eyes followed its progress like a hungry animal. "Would you like to read what he said?"

Daniel thinned his lips, his jaw clenched. He glared at the parchment a while longer before he said, voice tight with restraint, "He refused to pay the ransom."

"He did," Phantom said, nodding his head. "He also called me a sea devil. The spawn of a four legged beast and a whore. A bloodthirsty criminal with less honor than a rat. Should I go on or can you guess the rest? It's a decent sized parchment."

Daniel swallowed. His cheeks appeared to have reddened further, though it was difficult to tell beneath his sunburn. "I understand."

"He doesn't sound like a worried father."

"...No."

"He's trying to piss us off. It worked. Sam is furious. You've become a waste of time and resources. If the crew found out..."

Daniel nodded. He licked his lips, hesitated, then asked in the smallest voice Phantom had ever heard from him, "Are you going to kill me?"

Phantom frowned. How long had it been since he had seen fear touch those blue eyes? Did Daniel even realize how comfortable he was becoming among them? "That really would be a waste. After all," Phantom twisted a dramatic lilt into his voice and pressed his hand over his heart, "who else could put on such a performance while scrubbing my deck? My heart would wither without you."

Daniel snorted, but the fear receded and his shoulders relaxed. It wasn't gone—it probably never would be—but it was enough for now. "What are you going to do with me now that I'm so useless to you?"

"Other than as a swabbie?" Phantom tapped the rolled edge of the parchment against his hairless chin. He never could seem to grow a beard or even a mustache, though given his natural hair color, that was probably to his benefit. "That depends on what you tell me now. Why were you locked in your room? Why did your father leave you? Why does he appear to want you dead?"

Phantom snapped the last word, and Daniel flinched. They stared at each other as the ship pitched beneath them. The sea had been getting progressively rougher as the sun rose, and soon Daniel would be struggling to maintain his balance again, his clumsy, landlubber legs another source of endless entertainment for Phantom and his crew. He was getting better, however. He hadn't been seasick since that first day. Phantom could almost believe they could make a pirate of him yet.

"He's not my father," Daniel mumbled.

Phantom raised an eyebrow. He had heard the words, but the snapping sail outside made him doubt he had heard correctly. "Say again?"

"Vlad isn't my father!" Daniel shouted, overcompensating. "My real father died five years ago! Killed on some damn pirate raid that never should have happened! He was just a blacksmith! They shouldn't have—there was no reason for them to—”

Daniel stopped trying to force the words out. He sucked in shaky breaths as Phantom watched him. Phantom’s expression remained the same though inside Phantom's thoughts churned, fierce as an ocean storm.

There was a great deal Phantom needed more information on, but for now, he asked, "You're a commoner? The son of a blacksmith? Your sister too?"

Daniel nodded jerkily.

"And your mother? Why did the governor marry a common woman with two children?"

Daniel ground his teeth together, his blue eyes glaring at the wall to his left. "She's...Mom was a French nobleman's daughter, but she eloped with dad and lost her inheritance. She and Vlad used to be friends when they were kids. He says he wants to repair the relationship between her and her father, and Mom...she had no way to support us without Dad. She asked Vlad to hire her as a maid, but he offered to marry her instead. She said yes for our sake...at first..."

Phantom nodded slowly. "She left a comfortable life to be with the man she loved, only for him to be killed. Now her only son from her first marriage is in the hands of notorious pirates, and her current husband has refused to pay for his return." He thought for a moment, frowning at the floor. "Do you think she knows about his refusal?"

"If she did," Daniel said, voice strong with fierce confidence, "she would have gutted him."

Phantom raised an eyebrow. "Really?"

"She'll gut you too if she ever finds us," Daniel spat.

Phantom chuckled. "Many people would do the same. Finding us is the trick." He set the parchment down on the desk beside him and cocked his head to the side, considering his prisoner. "Perhaps we should send the ransom to your mother instead then. She sounds more logical, less...slimy."

"Vlad won't allow that." Phantom hummed a silent question, and Daniel added, "He wants me dead, remember? Who do you think locked me in my room? He knows I'll tell Mom he's a two-faced snake if I ever see her again."

"Ah." Phantom tapped his index finger against his knee a few times before he shrugged. "We'll just have to keep you alive to spite him, then. I would hate for him to get what he wants in the end, especially after he insulted my father. He might be right about my mother and me, though." He grinned wickedly, a look that often made his enemies hesitate. Danny didn't flinch, but he eyed him warily. "You've heard the rumors, I take it?"

On Phantom's ship with a crew devoted to Phantom alone, how could he not? The men and woman bragged about their captain any chance they got. It was all nonsense, but it kept their enemies on their toes and his crew loyal.

Daniel nodded. "Is any of it true?"

Phantom shrugged. "Your guess is as good as mine. I never met the woman, not even as a suckling babe according to my father. Perhaps she was a mermaid. Perhaps she was Calypso. But more likely, she was just a poor woman who couldn't afford a bastard child so she left me with my father. Not the best choice, but at least he never tried to abandon me. So much for all pirates being scum, eh?"

Daniel shifted his weight and his fingers plucked at the sleeve of his other arm. He didn't appear to know what to say.

"It seems your stay with us will be longer than expected," Phantom said, letting the matter drop. He smiled, pleased with the idea. "We should get better acquainted."

The wariness hadn't gone from Daniel's eyes, but it was fully directed at Phantom now. "We're not friends," he said.

Phantom ignored that. "Do you have a nickname? We can supply you one, if you wish, though you may not like the result. 'Daniel' is too sophisticated for us low-lifes, and some of us would rather cut off our own tongue than call someone 'Masters.'"

Daniel chewed on his bottom lip a moment then said, "Danny."

"Ah." That had been Phantom's original nickname too. It would be...odd to call someone else by that name. "You may wish to choose something else. Something less suited for a child or the crew and I might start referring to you as one again."

Daniel scowled. "They haven't stopped."

"No, but I have. That counts for something, doesn't it?"

Daniel rolled his eyes. After a few more seconds of thought, he suggested, "Fenton, then. It was...my dad's family name."

Phantom studied his expression and then tested the name on his tongue. "Fenton...yes, that might work. You might find yourself bound by another name later on, something to do with those lovely eyes of yours, perhaps, but it should do for now. Better than being referred to as 'prisoner' and 'boy', right?"

Fenton nodded, a sharp jerk of his head.

Phantom nodded as well, a pleased smile on his lips. It wasn't as if he could moan 'boy' and 'prisoner' into his pillow at night, after all. ‘Fenton’ would have a much nicer ring to it, a stronger pull.

Damn, he was pathetic.

"How old are you, Fenton?"

Fenton narrowed his eyes. "Nineteen. Why?"

Perfect.

"Just making sure you aren't actually a child," Phantom explained with a teasing grin. "I'm nineteen as well."

Fenton nodded, but he didn't seem to understand the significance. The two of them were nearly the same height as well. Phantom was sure his experience and muscles would give him the edge to begin with, but Fenton was crafty. Finding out which one of them could overcome and dominate the other would be...fun.

"Do you know the French language?" Phantom asked. "You mentioned your mother was a French woman."

Fenton shrugged and dragged his palms down his pants. Were they sweaty? "I'm not fluent, but I can speak it. You want me to translate something for you?"

Phantom couldn't hide his grin even if he had tried. "Give me an example."

"Um..." Fenton licked his lips, thought a moment as he frowned at Phantom, then said in a questioning tone, "A quoi tu joues?"

It didn't make a lick to sense to Phantom, but the foreign words made heat pool in his stomach. He leaned forward again, keeping Fenton's eyes on his face. "And what does that mean?"

"'What are you playing at?'" Fenton replied in the same tone he had used when he spoke the sentence in French.

Phantom chuckled softly to himself. He was officially fucked. The kid was bilingual. He wondered what the French words for 'faster' and 'harder' were, and if Fenton was familiar enough with the language to shout them at the height of passion. If hearing a Fenton speak a foreign tongue was hot now, it would be devastating then. Phantom hoped he would find out some day. Sooner rather than later. Before he had to give him back to his parents.

"I'm only trying to learn more about you, love," he said. "You...interest me. You may ask me questions too if you like."

Fenton thought a moment, shifting his weight from foot to foot. "How did you become a pirate?"

An easy question for him to start with. "My father raised me aboard his ship," Phantom explained. "His crew considered me their lucky charm and would bring me sweets from shore. I never set foot on dry land myself until I was eleven. I remember I hated how...still it felt. Like a dead, lifeless thing. When my father vanished, the few members who had stayed with me on land for the mission swore their service to me in his stead. I was fifteen at the time."

"And you've been a captain ever since?" Fenton asked, surprised.

Phantom held up his hand and waggled it side to side. "There were moments others were more fit to lead than I, so they became the captain as decreed by the crew, but overall I have lead more than I have followed. Stay with us long enough, and you might see the captaincy fall on Sam's shoulders for a time. She leads us well, though she is not always the most clear-headed."

Fenton looked baffled, his blue eyes blinking at Phantom like he couldn't seem to make sense of him.

"Not what you expected from a bloodthirsty band of sea thieves?" Phantom asked archly.

Fenton rubbed at his neck but flinched and pulled his hand away when he encountered his sunburned skin. "You're still a bloodthirsty band of sea thieves," he said, "you're just...less violent than I thought. Amongst each other, I mean."

"Oh, we're still plenty violent," Phantom said, but he left it at that. "Anything else?"

Fenton hesitated for half a second then blurted, "Are you educated? You speak better than I did before Vlad..." He trailed off, looking uncomfortable.

"Sam taught me how to speak like a noble," Phantom said, choosing to skip over Fenton's discomfort. "It has become habit now, but I can speak like the rest of the crew if you would rather?"

Fenton shook his head quickly. "I just didn't expect it."

"That's what I'm known for," Phantom said with a cheeky grin. "I embody the unexpected! I'm not educated, however. Sam taught me to speak and helped with my vocabulary, but I hate reading. The letters..." Phantom paused a moment, trying to describe it in his head before he gave voice to the problem. "I have trouble keeping them in order and remembering which shape makes what sound. Sam believes I tried learning too late." He shrugged, unconcerned.

"Maybe," Fenton said, but he didn't seem to like the answer. In fact, he seemed more upset by Phantom's inability to read than Phantom himself.

Phantom uncrossed his legs and stood up from the desk. Fenton tensed, but he stood his ground. He had been doing that more often of late. Phantom appreciated it for the courage it showed but also because it worked in Phantom's favor. He took the single stride that put him within arms' reach of Fenton and stared into the other's eyes. They were a beautiful color.

"Is that all you wish to know?" he asked, enjoying the proximity.

He could see there was something else rolling around in Fenton's head by the way his jaw clenched and relaxed, his brow wrinkled in growing confusion. Phantom longed to smooth his thumb over his forehead, brush back his black hair, but once he allowed himself to touch, would he be able to stop? Brushing Fenton's hair back now might lead to touching his shoulder at dinner later which could eventually lead to grabbing his hand to help him up in the morning. That was especially dangerous because Phantom wanted to hold his hand. He wanted to kiss it too.

He rarely bothered with such sentimentality, he wasn't sure what part it played. He had better step carefully or he would mess things up.

"You keep staring at me," Fenton finally said. "Why?"

Phantom tilted his head to the side. "Why wouldn't I? You're fascinating to watch, love."

Fenton frowned, pulling his lips into a thin line. He didn't understand, and Phantom wasn't willing to simply blurt out his attraction, afraid he might scare him away completely. Sodomy was a crime punishable by death under the law, and while that meant nothing to a pirate, it may mean the difference between life and death to someone hoping to return to normal society some day.

Not that anyone would necessarily have to know what happened on Phantom's ship. So long as Fenton didn't limp with a noticeable space between his legs, hickeys covering his neck once he returned to his mother's side, no one would be the wiser. It was that fear the law had instilled that was the real enemy. Well...that and Fenton's apparently endless innocence on the subject.

"My turn for a question, I think." Phantom fought the urge to touch Fenton's face by running his hand through his own white fringe, pulling apart what tangles his fingers came across with long practice. He bit down on his lip a moment and considered the brilliant blue of Fenton's eyes. So like the ocean... "Do you know how to swim?"

Slowly, Fenton shook his head.

An equally slow smile curled Phantom's lips. "I could teach you, if you like?"

Fenton's eyes drifted to the wall on their left where, behind the wood, an endless expanse of blue stretched. "I'll pass..."

Phantom laughed, though he felt something inside him ache at Fenton's refusal. "We would wait until we reached another island, of course. The water is shallower there."

Fenton's eyes snapped back to Phantom's face. "You'll let me on shore?"

"An uninhabited stretch of land," Phantom amended.

"Ah," Fenton breathed, "the catch." He sighed. "If it'll get me off this floating death trap, then I'll do it." He paused a beat. "On the condition that you--" He stopped himself and shook his head. He made a frustrated sound in the back of his throat. "Nevermind."

Phantom considered him for several long seconds before he nodded. He wondered what condition Fenton had been about to place on him, but just the idea of getting into the water with him and sharing how wonderful it felt to swim made Phantom beam with excitement. Whatever condition Daniel placed on him would have been worth it.

"Then that's what we'll do the next time we make landfall," he said, rocking back on his heels. "For now, you should probably return to your duties before the crew start complaining about me going easy on you again."

Fenton groaned, but he had received a long enough break Phantom felt he could resume his work on deck without straining his arms. His sweat remained, however, sticky on his skin where his shirt clung to his chest and his hair draped over his forehead. The desire to touch him rose in Phantom again. He didn't sweat as much as other people, but he loved the smell of it, Fenton's especially, and the way sweat made skin slide across skin so effortlessly.

That lead to some interesting thoughts which only amplified Phantom's desire to reach out and touch, but fortunately Daniel was less burdened.

"Can I go now?" Fenton asked dryly. In a mocking tone, he added, "Capitaine?"

The mockery couldn't smother Phantom's delight. He grinned. "Yes, love. You're dismissed."

Fenton took a step back and gave Phantom a mock bow, unintentionally revealing the whole of his flat chest through the opening of his collar. Then he straightened, spun on his heel, and marched from the room.

Once the door shut behind him, Phantom sighed and fell back on his desk. He picked up the worthless parchment Vladimir had sent them and used it to fan his face. "Cujo," he said to the monkey sleeping on his pillow, "don't tell Sam, but I think I'm in trouble."

#Danny Phantom #Danny Fenton #Pitch Pearl #Pirate AU #completely separate never been the same person Dannys #writing trance #fanfiction #we have a whole story planned for this thing in the Pitch Pearl server and I wanted to try my hand at writing a part of it #I wouldn't mind writing a second part for this too but #at that point I may as well write the actual story #the tricky thing about that is it's supposed to be a slow burn...and I already have so much I need to write #ugh

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writeforself · 5 years

Text

Phantom Song

Kassandra x Reader

Warning: angst, gore

A/N: Inspired by a dream I had the other day.

When you realised, you were alone on the battlefield. Flames scorching the field; soldiers shouting at the top of their lungs, crawling and wailing with their dismembered bodies, fertilizing the earth with their abundant blood. Yet sounds of weapons clashing against each other sounded so far away. It seemed near yet distant. You seemed there but not.

Your arm felt like it’s burning. When you looked at it, it was mere red. The scarlet gleamed under the blazing sun. A weight on your shoulder became heavier, and vision seemed hazier.

Raising your sword, you cut down the enemy running towards you. His armour was covered with dirt and blood. When he fell onto the muddy ground you couldn’t hear anything, but you could feel something inside you fell along with him, down the earth.

Then you heard a familiar voice, a shout that cleared your sight.

Turning your head toward the source you saw a familiar figure, wielding the golden spear in her hand, cutting through waves of enemies. You wouldn’t mistaken that braid anywhere, which twirled in the air like a dancing nymph when its owner turned her torso and stroke another blow. Her golden crown shined under the daylight, giving her the glow of a goddess.

You would recognise that move everywhere. It lifted your spirit.

Exuberance filled you up. Suddenly you heard a familiar melody in the air. It sounded like humming in the wind, which seemed close yet distant and vague. Ignoring it, you slashed your way through waves of enemies like slicing down soulless cardboards.

As you approached closer and closer to Kassandra, covered in crimson, and suffered with weariness. The melody became clearer and clearer; eventually you were able to figure the words in the wind that at first sounded like humming.

‘Look at the stars’

You’ve heard it before.

‘Beyond the mountains and the wild sea’

But you didn’t remember where.

It didn’t matter. Kassandra was right in front of you, separated only by a couple of soldiers. Yet before you realised, it was too late.

One.

You saw a sharp spear broke out from your stomach. Blood splattered in front you. Yet beside losing strength and collapsing on your knees, you could not feel a thing. No pain, no grief, not even a sound crept into your ears, but the song that lingered ghostly in the air.

Two.

A sword wielded in the air, a shining blaze blinded your eyes. Then there was nothing.

***

Maybe you were always blinded by the confidence Kassandra represented, never in your wildest dream, did you imagine having to fight on the burning Adrestia. Yet you could not see Kassandra. Instead, you saw the crews being cut down by pirates swarming onto the ship. Fire swallowed up your vision.

Engulfed by panic, you tried to seek Kassandra in this sea of suffering. One by one you witnessed your fellow men fell down under vicious blades.

Then you saw her.

At the far end of the ship, wielding her spear as graciously as usual, fighting a pirate twice her size who is slamming the deck with a gigantic axe in hands. Without a second thought you set foot onward, eager to become her aid.

‘Follow your dreams’

Why did it sound familiar? The music in the air, penetrated through the screams and shouts, came into your ears clear as wind chimes. You stopped, dumbfounded.

‘The bravest hearts’

Looking around, you found yourself surrounded. Their faces you could not see, covered with the suffocating smoke, and the shadow of their darken helmets. With a desperate attempt you tried to fight your way through the crowd. Your lung blazed, full of dark smoke and the burnt odour of flesh and woods.

She was so close.

The giant pirate fell under her swing. The broken spear radiated with vigour and strength. You met with her eyes, drowned in frenzied fear. Before she took a step, you felt something piercing through you. A sharp object across your shoulder.

Your sword clashed on the deck. You heard her shouting your name in the midst of chaos. But you could not see her. You could only see the grand blue sky, with smoke like a black thin silk covering up the sky.

You were flying. At least it was what you thought, before your senses being swallowed by a gentle coldness, seeping inside you, until the melody faded away into the void, along with your sensations.

***

You’ve heard of this place. Kassandra once shared her childhood story in the dark of the night, when there was nothing to be heard but her quivering voice in the dead of the night. Taygetos, a name you will never forget. At the edge of the world, a child’s life was taken, only to be reborn and took her life into her own hands.

However, you had never been here. The fact that you identified this place puzzled you. The height frightened you. The world unfolded in front of you. But fear crept inside you, tearing you sanity and pushing you toward the edge. Trying to stand still, you closed your eyes. In your mind you saw a valley of death, wails of children made the sky tremble. The lightning in the dark tear the world into half.

But there were movements in the air.

When you opened your eyes, all you could see were villages lying in tranquility in the field below; all you could hear were the trees rustling in the breeze that sounded like a calling from reverie.

Yet there it was, again. Yes, again.

You found familiarity in the air. There it was again, the melody with a soft chanting, drifted into your ears and landed in your mind. You felt your muscles tightened, stiffened, as if you were chained by a giant snake, until the last of air was extruded out of your lung. The view in front you was breathtaking.

Suddenly you were terrified, of death.

‘The gods will favor those who dare to see’

The unknown voice in the atmosphere sang, but all you could think of was Kassandra. Where was she? You needed her. The urge to see her, to touch her, to hold her, or being held in her arm, the desperate desire consumed you like waves of fire.

You could not breath.

‘Courageously’

[Y/N...] Before you lost your sanity to the alluring song, you heard your name being uttered, by that voice you admired, from the lips you craved.

Turning around, there she was, the living goddess in your life, Kassandra. However, when you met with her gaze, you saw no joy, no affection, no love; you saw only anger, resentment, and devastation. Her eyes were blazing with an impulse. You could see it clearly, like a bear in confinement, which is about to break out a cage which was on the verge of collapse. In her hand was the spear you always stared with reverence. It gleamed with a crimson lustre.

Staggered with her expression, you tried to move. Yet at the edge of the cliff, there was nowhere to run, and your feet was locked on the ground, petrified, as if you met the gaze of Medusa.

‘For destiny’

The melody continued to linger. You tried to scream, but the image of a valley of dead children frightened you. In your mind the wails of those children merged with the ghostly song in the air.

One.

There it was, the precious spear of hers, now digging deep into your stomach. There was no pain, only bewilderment.

You could not recognise her face. There was no woe in her eyes. That was not the person you love.

Two.

You felt the breeze rushing across your skin. In front of you was the sky that was as enthralling as ever.

Then it was darkness.

***

You wake up, full of sweat, eyes wide open. At first you can see nothing in the darkness.

But soon you recall where you are.

It is night. You reassure yourself. A peaceful night, summer’s breeze dances in to the room from the open window. You can hear the callings of owls from far away, cicadas singing in the thick dark woods, and the melody you’ve heard for countless times.

You jump up from bed, move to the window.

There she is, humming the melody light-heartedly, swinging her body along with the rhythm, sitting by the balcony with her feet dangling in the night air. Moonlight sprinkles its gentleness on the ground, the edge of her silhouette radiates with a hypnotizing glow.

You sneak out to the balcony, but are soon uncovered with your weary treads. Then she turns, surprised, and smiles.

“Why are you up?” She chuckles. The last time you heard this melodic voice seems like ages before. “What are you singing?” You take a seat by her side, notice the spear in her hands. You shiver, remembering the fearsome nightmare you just woke up from.

“Oh that? It’s a song my mater always sang when I was little.” You finally realise it. You have heard it for hundreds of times. “Don’t you remember?”

She puts down the spear and turns to you. Soon she notices the hesitation, and the fear hiding beneath your faraway look.

“Are you okay?” She puts her arm around you, wrapping you with delicacy, laying tender kisses on your skin. “I’m fine.” You put on a tired smile. “Can you keep singing that song?”

“Of course, my love.” She whispers into your ears. You feel a loving weight lands onto your head, her voice and breath sweep across your skin.

The night falls into silence, waiting for the soothing melody to rejoin with the symphony.

“Beautiful Island, bathed in the rising sun.” Nightmares fade away with her voice.

“Faith’s hand will guide you, travel in path alone.” As your muscles loosen, you feel your eyelids grow heavier and heavier, until you finally fall back into a gentle slumber.

“Back to the warmth of home.”

#kassandra #kassandra x reader #assassin's creed imagine #ac oddysey #assassin's creed odyssey #Assassin's Creed

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frozenlanturns · 6 years

Text

The Red Witch

about: Jack is an ice spirit with no memory of his past. Rapunzel is a young princess, born with magic healing powers, traveling with Jack. Merida is a you noble human that just wants to get away from her noble life…and she happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time…

Chapter Two ~ I am…

“What do your spirit eyes see, Jack” a young woman with long braided blonde hair joked as she looked up at her friend, who was floating at the very top of a tree. Jack chuckled and rolled his eyes.

“Well, my spirit eyes see a town. It looks like it might be a few hours away by foot still. Do you wanna make the trek, even if we won’t be arrive until after midnight, or just camp for the night?” he looked down and saw his friend pacing back and forth. “Rapunzel?”

“I wanna sleep in a real bed tonight but-” a sudden explosion scared both friends from their conversation. Looking back at the town, Jack saw smoke rising from the rooftops. Acting quickly, Jack swooped down and picked Rapunzel up off the ground and flew towards the burning town. She let out a small scream and quickly covered her eyes.

“What was that explosion?” she asked as they flew through the night.

“I’m not sure,” he yelled over the cold wind that carried them, “But, people are in danger!” Rapunzel nodded and Jack flew faster until they were just outside of town. Landing on the ground, the two looked around for anything. suddenly , there was a loud whinny that made Rapunzel jump out of her skin. Looking behind her, she saw a large dark grey and white horse pulling at its reins that were tied to a small tree.

Walking up the frightened horse slowly, she untied it and watched it run away.

“There’s nothing here, let’s head into town!” Rapunzel nodded and then followed Jack into town.

~~~~~~~~~~

Following the scent of smoke and the cries of the townspeople, Jack and Rapunzel quickly found the source of the fire.

All around, they saw men and women throwing buckets of water to stop the flames from spreading.

“They’re not going to stop it in time! You think you can put them out?” Rapunzel spoke over the loud voices of the crowd.

“Yeah, I think so. Let’s get to the rooftops!” in agreement, Jack picked her up again and launched them towards a roof near the fire.

Landing, Rapunzel looked down at the flames that licked at the building just beneath her bare feet while Jack took off again and started to put out the flames with ice blasts from his staff.

“Stop...stop it!” this new voice caught Rapunzel’s attention. Looking around, she found a girl with hair as red as the fire that surrounded her. The girl looked like she was on her knees and holding herself.

Was she hurt?

“Jack!” she pointed to the girl and he nodded. After Rapunzel chanted a quick protection stave, Jack put out the surrounding fire before lowering them both to the ground. While Jack continued to put out the growing flames, Rapunzel inched closer to the frightened girl.

“It’s going to okay! We’re going to help you! What’s your name?” she said with a smile, but, ended up startling the girl. Rapunzel noticed that there were indeed burns on her arms and face.

“No! I don’t want to hurt you!” she was scared of herself. Jack heard this and started to make his way back towards Rapunzel.

“What do you-”

“No!” she screamed when she saw her own hands glow blood red.

“Rapunzel!” Jack cried as he leaped towards his friend and encased them in a thick ice shield.

They both watched in fear as the blasting fire wrapped around their protection and proceeded to melt the outside layers. Soon, the ice started to crack. Rapunzel let out a scream at the sound and Jack moved to shield her more.

They both knew why he did it.

Jack couldn’t die.

As much as she didn’t want him to shield her, she didn’t fight because than she couldn’t fulfill her promise.

And Rapunzel never goes back on a promise.

There was another creak and they braced for the oncoming flames...but they never came. Jack slowly opened his eyes and saw that the fire around them was gone.

“Raps...” Jack whispered as he lightly shook her shoulder. She then opened her eyes as well and looked around in surprise.

With a wave of his hand, Jack dismissed their creaked and melting shield.

“Are you guys stupid or something?!” both jumped as tall man in his mid-thirties with grey hair and dressed in an outfit similar to a police officer yelled them.

Disspellers...magic police and clean up crew...and there were three of them.

“Not only do we have to fix the Red Witch’s shit, but, we also have to wipe the memories of the humans seeing a flying boy and girl!”

“You’re saying it’s our fault? Well, I guess it’s our fault that we prevented the town burning to a crisp, right Raps?”

“Why, you little-”

“Aster!” a young woman with dark skin and short multicolored hair said in a stern voice as she walked over to the quarreling three.

“Iana, I-”

“Aster, he’s correct. If they hadn’t intervened, people would have died and more than half the town would have burned down.”

“Does not matter! What matters is we caught Red Witch!” another man, he with long silvery hair and beard and strong and mighty physique, bellowed ashe he pushed the now handcuffed girl towards the cars.

“Did you call her the Red Witch?” Rapunzel asked, now very worried. Aster and Iana nodded poundly. “She’s not the Red Witch.”

“Look, lady, the magic signatures match and there’s no way that that’s wrong.” Aster said matter-of-factly.

“You’re wrong!” she shouted at them.

“Rapunzel…” Jack whispered and gently placed a cold hand on her arm. She pulled her arm away and them marched up to Aster until she was toe to toe with him.

“And how would you know, missy?” green eyes stared into green eyes.

“Because I was raised by her.” Rapunzel replied in a low and serious voice. All anger and annoyance disappeared from Aster’s face when he heard this. He took a step back and was prepared to defend himself if needed be. “I am Princess Rapunzel. Daughter of King Frederic and Queen Arianna and she is NOT the Red Witch!”

“The Lost Princess?” the larger man said quietly after locked the other girl into the back.

“Don’t be ridiculous, North! Don’t-don’t you think if the Lost Princess of Corona was found, they would’ve announced it?”

“Not if she was in hiding…” Iana shot Aster an annoyed look before walking closer to Rapunzel. “Do you have proof of your heritage?” thinking for a second, Rapunzel then remembered her necklace. Pulling at the hidden cord tied around her neck, she pulled off the ring turned necklace that her father gave to her before she left and handed it to Iana. The golden ring had the crest of her family on it and she was told to use it situations like this.

Iana waved her hand over it and it glowed for a minute. She nodded and handed it back to Rapunzel.

“Could you come back with us for further questioning, your highness?” Rapunzel nodded and followed Iana to the second buggy. Jack started to follow, but, Aster blocked his path.

“He comes with me!” Rapunzel called before climbing into the back, Jack gave Aster a smug smile before leaping into the air and landing at the back of the buggy. Sliding in next to his friend, he immediately noticed Rapunzel shaking. Placing his hand on hers, he leaned in close and whispered, “You did great, Raps.” She sighed and calmed a little.

She then rests her head on his shoulder, not caring how cold he felt, and they rode silence the whole way to the disspeller station.

#rise of the brave tangled dragons #brave tangled guardians #Jack Frost #Rapunzel #Merida #fanfiction #my works #The Red Witch #the red witch fanfic #slight swearing #chapter two

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buckymcbuttfacebarnes · 6 years

Text

how to escape nowhere

[a/n: this is 990 words of chris beck in space, missing the reader and hoping he gets home. its a horror story though it isnt that scary! i listened to this while writing it, so yall should listen to it while u read, just a suggestion!! i typically write for bucky so this is diff for me, but hope to write more scary stories for halloween, let me know what yall think]

(@hargrovesgoldilocks ur the only reason this story got written just saying!)

(masterlist)

Chris Beck is somewhere.

“Mark? Melissa?” When he calls to them his voice bounces off the walls. It’s here, it’s there, then it’s gone.

No one answers.

He doesn’t know where.

Somewhere, nowhere.

His eyes are black pools that mirror the great darkness that swallows the spacecraft whole.

When he first sees his reflection he is surprised, but had chalked his sunken eyes up to exhaustion and anxiousness to get home.

He looks at himself again and smiles, wide and dark. Eyes are a void, there is no sparkle in them. He hadn’t meant to smile.

It’s not me, he thinks. It’s this place.

Maybe he’s right.

Somewhere, nowhere, maybe everywhere he is floating alone. The ship is white and it’s so cold and so sterile. It doesn’t feel like home. He wishes he was at home.

“Y/N?” He calls to you, but you don’t answer. He knows you won’t.

How could you? Somewhere a million miles away you sit in your house and glumly miss your husband. He has only five days left of his mission.

He will be home soon.

That’s what you tell yourself because you do not know that five days will turn into ten, then ten into twenty, then twenty into fifty. Fifty will turn to never. He will never come home to you, not like this.

He knows that now. He can feel it.

His coworkers are gone, vanished into thin air. Into nothing.

He is alone somewhere, nowhere.

He blinks because the lights are suddenly harsh on his eyes, his vision is spotty. He hears the tinkling of bells somewhere.

He is alone.

“Y/N?”

He walks now with a footsteps that drag across the smooth surface of the floor, he walks without purpose, without control. Tugged along by some unknown force, he thinks, Where am I?

Truth is, he’d never find out. There was no one truly there to tell him.

The bells grow louder, joined by the blare of what may have been a trumpet, he is getting closer to the source. Somewhere behind him there is the echoing patter of quick footsteps.

Tap, tap, tap….Tap, tap tap...

He can’t turn around. He’s not even sure he really wants to.

“Who’s there?” Chris Beck demands, but the words come out strangled. Invisible hands squeeze his throat until his lungs burn.

His knees give and then he’s on the ground, jolts of pain shoot up his kneecaps, then his head hits the ground. His limbs no longer work. He is paralyzed from the neck down.

His eyes are opened up wide, he is lying on his stomach. His range of vision restricted only to what’s in front of him. He breathes harshly through his nostrils. The floor is very cold on his cheek, he wishes he was home instead of in this somewhere, this nowhere. He wanted to be anywhere but here.

Tap, tap, tap….

A shadow stretches across the floor, right in front of him. A black pool of nothing. He can hear his own blood pumping in his ears.

The music grows alien, transforming into something horrid and vile. A growth. It rumbles in his chest, and makes his head thrum with its resonance. He hates it. The shadow turns to blood, it spreads and spreads, closer and closer. His heart beats faster and faster, afraid.

The music stops. He grapples to his feet before it can touch him. He flexes his fingers and peers down at his hands, puzzled at his sudden ability to feel again. For a moment he had been afraid that his body had vanished from his head.

The liquid, rich burgundy, is gone, but there is a stain of it left on the white floor. He turns this way and that, head and body whipping around. Who’s there?

This is the nothing, Chris Beck. There is no one else here, silly.

The lights turn off, all of them. Everything is black. He is in the belly of it, it has consumed him.

His feet are no longer touching the ground and he wonders if he is floating through space, suspended in blackened empty nothing, strung up by invisible strings that were attached to him by invisible hands.

He yells out but the sound is swallowed by the void. The air is sucked out of him like a vacuum. He closes his eyes tight, he wishes he was dead.

Soon.

When he opens them again he is suspended in the air still, but he can see.

“Y/N! Y/N!”

You don’t hear him. You are below him, seated on the edge of your bed. Your dress is black, as black as night, as black as nowhere. Your face is puffy and tear-stained. Your gaze is downwards, looking at something he can’t see. A photo it looks like. He is puzzled, he wishes he could be there for you. Suddenly your mother is there, seated beside you on the bed. She touches your shoulder gently and you burst into tears. She takes the frame from your hand and places it next to her. And as she wraps her arms around you he can see Chris Beck smiling back at him from the picture frame.

His head spins and his vision goes blurry. He feels sick. His tears are hot on his cheeks, the drip off his chin. His mind is weak. He is weak.

“Chris,” a voice rasps.

His gaze snaps forward.

It’s Melissa, standing beside her is the rest of the crew.

Chris Beck had not realized that he was on the floor until he finds himself running towards them in relief, he feels his shoulders relax. He is crying again.

But the nearer he gets the more wrong it feels. That is not Melissa, that is not his crew. They are nothing, they are the nowhere. They are the teeth that chewed him up, the throat that pushed and pulled him down into the deepest trenches of this monster’s belly. This nothing.

When he turns away from them, he finds there is no escape. His head whips this way and that, and he moves with wobbly and indefinite footsteps. His shoes squeal and squeak against the floor loudly. Nowhere to go, no one to turn to.

There is dread in his heart and fear in his eyes, but the call of peace is so appealing. It beckons to him and whispers his name...it chants it. The voices are sweet, but not as sweet as yours.

I’m sorry, he thinks. He thinks of you.

He is weak. His life leaves him without a fight. It slips away into true bleak nothingness. Instead of somewhere it meets true nowhere and there is no leaving nowhere, unless you’re me, that is.

Because now when I look into the glass and peer at my reflection, it is Chris Beck’s face that smiles back at me. He was weak, but I am strong. I am no longer the shade of nothingness, a longing shadow. I am and I am not Chris Beck and I have five days left of my mission. I am going home.

#chris beck #chris beck x reader #my space king!!!!!#the martian #sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader #horror writing

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infinitheismworld · 3 years

Text

Shape your Thoughts, Shape your Destiny

Thoughts constitute the mind, and the mind constitutes the content of the being. Shape your thoughts and you can shape your destiny. We should improve the quality of our thoughts and provide the right direction to our thoughts. Move from chaos to clarity. Awaken your inner voice and attract things that will enhance your life.

About three years ago, a new building of 6,000 square feet was taken on rent. With deep devotion, interiors were done. Today, it is a very special space for thousands of people. People refer to it as the ‘Temple Of Transformation’.

For most of those who have stepped into this hall, it is a very sacred place — as reverential as any place of worship. I have heard from so many of them that just stepping into this hall cleanses and purifies them — something about them is transformed without any effort of theirs.

Many of them have said that the vibrations they have experienced inside this hall are more profound than what they have experienced anywhere else.

What was this space 36 months ago? Just a building! What has caused this transformation? Same bricks, same 6,000 square feet of space, same location, same architecture…

Is it the interior decoration? Certainly not!

For the last 30 months, ever since the ‘Temple of Transformation’ was initiated, ‘group meditation’ has been a regular practice in the hall; celestial music has been echoing periodically; weekly satsangs have been conducted; psycho-spiritual classes have been conducted; spiritual discourses have been delivered; and above all, the hall had housed several spiritually aligned and evolved beings for hours and days together.

The hall has not changed; but the CONTENT of the hall has changed. Add love to a house and it becomes a home. Add spiritual vibrations to a brick building and it becomes a temple. It’s the same vessel — yesterday it had poison and hence served a different purpose; today it has nectar and thereby serves a different purpose.

If this is possible with a building, which is a material creation of man, then what is not possible for a human being — a living divine manifestation of that Infinite Intelligence?

Change the content of a thief and you have a Valmiki. A sinner is transformed into a saint by changing the content of the being. Change the content of ‘Mohandas Karamchand Gandhi’ and you have Mahatma Gandhi. An atma is transformed into a mahatma when the content of the being is changed.

Over the last few decades man’s primary focus has been improving and refining his DOING capabilities. All his training, learning and education have been towards enhancing his ‘doing’ capabilities.

True, we’ve got to DO before we can have; and we’ve got to HAVE before we can give. But what man has forgotten is that we’ve got to BE before we can DO. The sequential order is: To be, to do, to have, and to give. Our focus has been lopsided towards ‘what we do’ rather than ‘who we are’.

The tragedy of this generation is that it has overlooked the BEING. We have become more of a ‘Human Doing’ rather than a ‘Human Being’.

Academic qualifications, be it Masters or Doctorates, may enhance the doing capabilities of an individual but never the quality of his being. A school principal who survived a Nazi camp, wrote, “I am a survivor of a concentration camp.

My eyes saw what no person should witness. Gas chambers built by learned engineers. Children poisoned by educated physicians. Infants killed by trained nurses. Women and babies shot and killed by high school and college graduates. So, I’m suspicious of education.

My request is, help your students to be humans. Your efforts must never produce learned monsters, skilled psychopaths, or educated maniacs. Reading and writing and spelling and history and arithmetic are only important if they serve to make our students more humane.”

Atomic energy is potent power but whether it will be used as a creative force or as a destructive force depends on the ‘being’ who’d be using it. A chisel in the hands of a sculptor will serve a different purpose, but the same in the hands of a burglar is a cause of concern.

Criminals are people with great ‘doing’ capabilities, but unfortunately the content of their ‘being’ is misdirecting their ‘doing’ capabilities. Legends are also people with great ‘doing’ capabilities, but fortunately the content of their ‘being’ is directing them through the right channels. So what is the fundamental difference between Mahatma Gandhi and Nathuram Godse? What is it that constitutes the content of a BEING?

Haven’t we heard and read:

“As you sow, so you reap.”

“As you think so you become.”

“The man who wins is the man who thinks he can.”

“The empires of the future are the empires of the mind.”

“The mind is its own place, and in itself, can make a Heaven of hell, a Hell of heaven.”

Thoughts constitute the mind, and the mind constitutes the content of the Being. As are the thoughts, so will be the mind; as is the mind, so will be the man. The mind of each man is the man himself. We build our future thought by thought.

Thought is another name for fate. We are what we are because of what has gone into our mind. What we will become will depend on what continues to go into our mind.

The computer acronym GIGO – Garbage In Garbage Out, applies to the human mind too; the contrary also is true: Good In Good Out.

The mind governs everything in our world, and yet this potent force has been sadly neglected. The possibilities of ‘Thought Training’ are infinite, but we have not taken the necessary steps to direct our thinking into channels that will author the right life for us.

Instead, we have left it to chance; to the myriad circumstances and at the mercy of “We don’t know how” consequences.

The story goes…

An illiterate but rich man bought a ship. He knew nothing of the sea, nothing of navigation, but he was seized by the notion of taking a voyage and commanding his own ship. The ship set sail; the self-appointed captain allowing the crew to go about their usual duties, as the multiplicity of operations confused the amateur navigator.

Once headed out to sea, however, the work grew simpler, and the captain had time to observe what was going on. As he strolled on the forward deck, he saw a man turning a big wheel, now this way and then that way.

“What in the world is that man doing?” he asked. “That’s the helmsman. He is steering the ship.” “Well, I don’t see any use in his fiddling with that all the time.

There’s nothing but water ahead, and I guess the sails can push her forward. When there’s land in sight, or a ship coming head on, there’ll be time enough to do the steering. Put up all the sails and let her go.”

The order was obeyed, and the few survivors of the wreck that followed had cause to remember the fool captain who thought a ship steered herself.

You are right! No such fool ever existed. However, such foolishness goes on…

Are we in command of something more delicate, more precious than any ship — our own mind, and hence our own life?

How much attention are we giving to steering our mind?

Don’t we let it go at its own will? Don’t day-to-day happenings blow it hither and thither?Don’t we let a chance friendship, chance reading, and aimless amusement sway our life into ways we never would have deliberately chosen?

Are we really the captain of our ship, steering it to our chosen harbour?

Our destiny is shaped by our character; our character is shaped by our habits; our habits are shaped by our actions. But what shapes our actions?

It is our thoughts. So, if we shape our thoughts, we will shape our destiny. So how do we shape our thoughts? How do we steer our thoughts from discord to harmony, from hatred to love, from disease to health, from negative to positive, from animalism to spiritualism, from darkness to light, from slavery to Mastery?

A three-pronged approach is needed.

Reduce the quantity of our thoughts.

Improve the quality of our thoughts

Provide the right direction to our thoughts.

Firstly, you need to reduce your thought traffic. Too much of thought congestion will incapacitate you from working upon them. You have to move from being a chaotic thinker to one who has clarity in thinking.

Every day, without absenteeism, hold your mind in concentration on any object of your choice for a few minutes. It could be watching your breathing (vipasana), regulating your breath (pranayama), chanting a mantra (japam), focussing on your chosen deity (bakthi) or just watching a glowing lamp or the waves in the sea.

Hold your mind single pointed for a few minutes every day. If you want to train a wild elephant, first it has to be tamed. Practicing ‘concentration of mind’ will progressively tame your mind. Mind control is the only self-control.

Without absenteeism, every day, whenever you can, for just a couple of minutes, withdraw yourself from the outside world, turn your attention to your inner world and just observe the parade of your thoughts. Do not judge or negate or fight. Without identifying yourself with any of the thoughts, just watch your thoughts come and go.

With sincerity and regularity to the above two processes, you will begin to experience a greater clarity in thoughts (reduction in the quantity of thoughts) and a different rhythm in your thought flow, with every passing day.

Secondly, you need to nurture your mind with quality thoughts. Where do you source quality thoughts from? By reading self-help books (knowledge authored by great people), scriptures (wisdom of the messiahs) or listening to discourses (thoughts of realised beings).

From the time you wake up to the time you go back to sleep, people who themselves are lost, confused and have made a mess of their lives, keep influencing your mind. They just barge into your mind. This unsolicited trespassing has to be countered by investing a few minutes of consciously getting influenced by the legends of our time. Without absenteeism, invest a few minutes every day on this intellectual treat of reading the thoughts and listening to the words of great people.

How often will you invite a characterless rogue to your house, if you have teenage children? Probably never! Similarly, shun the company of all those people who you know are casting their negative influence on you. No relationship is worth it if you are going to be destroyed in the process.

How privileged will you feel, to find a chaste teacher who is willing to mentor your teenage children? Similarly, seek the company of all those people, who you know will cast their positive influence on you. Just being in the presence of those operating from higher planes of consciousness will transform you. Gift yourself these special moments regularly.

Finally and most importantly, without absenteeism, analyse your experiences at the end of every day to provide a moral direction to your thoughts. At the end of every day, just before you go to sleep, order a mental march-past of all the experiences that you had during the day. Recall each one of them. Mentally pat yourself wherever you think you were right.

Attempt a self-analysis wherever you think you were wrong. In your own judgement, wherever you think you were wrong, weak or at fault, ask yourself what else could you have done instead; with what virtue could you have countered this weakness; what can be done to correct that fault?

Within days, you will be amazed to realise that you are not repeating the same mistakes (though there is always scope for new mistakes). You’ll also experience a newfound motivation to do what is right, again and again.

This is the process of introspection — looking into your actions and thereby gaining insight into your thoughts. In any study, it is normally the mind that studies the subject; the beauty of introspection is that the mind itself becomes the object of study.

Introspection will help you to eventually negate all traces of evil in your thoughts and add a moral touch to your thinking. Introspection awakens your inner voice. If you give life to your inner voice, in return, your inner voice will give life to you.

“To him that hath, shall be given,” is the law. The more we process the thoughts of health, wealth, love, bliss and enlightenment, the more powerful will be the attraction for kindred things. Let us be such a Master of our thoughts that we shall attract only those things that will enhance our lives.

Did you hear what your mind whispered? “Your best is yet to be…”

#mahatria infinipath thoughts shape destiny mind improve qualitythoughts

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keyboardpunk · 7 years

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How would the boys react to their S/O getting badly wounded during battle and how would they take care of them after?

Chocobros x Fem!Reader

Warning: Graphic violence, gore, and angst ahead.

Thanks for your submission and thanks for reading. ♥

You were a soldier. You made the oath, accepted the risk, dove headfirst into danger without the slightest bit of hesitation, and wore the symbol of your dedication proudly. Your oath was to protect the royal family, no matter the cost. It wasn’t just about Noctis, or the crown, but what he stood for: all the people of Lucis, their history and homeland.

Your love, he knew that well, because it was the same oath he had made. It was not an oath chanted on one knee and later forgotten. It was an oath carved in flesh and earned in blood. You risked life and death not merely because that was what soldiers did, but because you believed in your cause. You believed in protecting the people of Lucis and their young king.

If need be, you would do whatever was necessary to ensure the safety of the royal family, your fellow soldiers, and all Lucians, without hesitation and without restraint or fear… and that was exactly what you had done.

If not for Ignis’ perception, the battle would have been a massacre: not for your crew, but for the innocent citizens nearby. Magitek soldiers had been dropped in the middle of a small town not far from Lestallum. Their focus was to invade the mining shafts towards the farther end of town, and undoubtedly make off with the precious ore and quartz buried inside. The citizens, who were little more than poor miners, needed the ore from the mines to survive. That trade kept them sheltered and fed.

All it took was one hostile, a single civilian attempting to protect his only source of income, and the mechanical soldiers turned on the unarmed citizens. It was possible that Ignis blew out a tire in the process of speeding over to them. Everyone, including yourself, jumped out of the vehicle before it had come to a complete stop, to run to the aid of the defenseless townspeople.

It was different fighting these horrendous machines in the middle of the open dessert or condensed woods than it was in the middle of town. There were people nearby, people that could potentially be targeted or accidentally caught in friendly fire. Time was of the essence, for their safety was to be kept in consideration. To make matters worse, reinforcements for the enemy arrived rather quickly.

In the heat of battle, you didn’t always have time to contemplate your actions. Many times, a split second decision was the difference between life and death. His back was turned, focused on the enemies in front of him, leaving his blind spot completely vulnerable. Your ally, your partner… your love… You told him you would die for him… and you meant it.

♦ Noctis Lucis Caelum

The prince, newly crowned king, didn’t see you fall. His focus was on one of the advanced soldier units that had proven itself quite a challenge as it fought against both him and Gladiolus. Noctis did, however, hear your cry of pure agony. It felt like it had shattered his eardrums and rattled his rib cage so violently his heart throbbed painfully.

Gladiolus came down hard on the enemy in front of them, anticipating Noctis to take advantage of the machine’s brief moment of disorientation. He didn’t, however. Noctis had turned away, spinning fast enough to nearly give himself whiplash. You were standing there, a harpoon-like blade jutting out of your abdomen. Blood gushed from the wound like water cascading over a cliff side. You would have collapsed if not for the machine using the harpoon and chain to yank you back towards it.

It became clear, then. One of the magitek soldiers had shot one of the harpoons at Noctis, intending to hook him and yank him in. You knocked that deadly spear away, but was unaware that another one had been prepared to fire, as well. The second soldier, having now been placed in your blind spot, was free to hook you, now that you stood in the way of Noctis.

“NOOO!” he bellowed, his voice roaring over the battle cries of his comrades and metallic screeching of his foes. You heard Noctis’ voice, powerful and booming, like a war drum. It was almost frightening, like a sound that seemed unfitting to come out of such a carefree and peaceful man. It was almost as though his voice was strong enough to shake the ground. Weak from the blood loss and dizzy from the pain, Noctis’ scream was the last thing you heard.

… … … … …… … … … …

When consciousness slowly returned to you, at first, it felt like a dream. You were in a moderately sized bed, in a familiar room that was fairly dark, but not unseeable. Your head turned to the only source of light, a window with the curtains pulled back. Rain gently tapped against the glass, the dark clouds above shielding the sun from vibrantly blasting rays inside.

You felt something faint and prickly against the skin of your neck and shoulder; and, something fluttered against your skin, further tugging you into consciousness. Too weak to move properly, you were only able to turn your head enough to see spiky locks of black hair peaking into your field of vision. A form laid still next to yours, dressed in all black though pale skin was exposed where clothes had shifted.

A small smile formed when realization washed after you and reality became clearer. “Noctis… you need to shave,” you whispered, voice hoarse and dry. As you became more conscious, you became steadily more aware of the bandages wrapped tightly around your abdomen and the fact that only cloth covered your otherwise bare chest. It was not embarrassing, considering the amount of trust you had in all them. Rather, it left your skin trembling from the cold, and made you wonder if that was why Noctis laid next to you.

He was careful to avoid laying on you, leaving him in an awkward position squished up at your side. It was also for his own sanity, so he could feel your pulse through the night and hear every breath, fearing it would be the last. Healing potions could only do so much for a wound like that. Your own body had to catch up, too.

When he didn’t respond, it became clear he was out cold. Had he been up all night…? When your eyes glanced back to the window, the possibility seemed incredibly likely. Noctis loved overcasts: the gentle trickle of rain, the looming clouds, dream-like atmosphere, and, especially, the wonderful smells. Yet, here he was, missing it.

It was difficult, but you found the strength to roll over. Noctis’ cheek, that had rested just barely on your shoulder slid more properly into your chest. In his unconscious stupor, he was likely just moving himself to something more comfortable. His chin hair was a bit irritating, short and prickly against your skin, and his scalp was oily from the lack of showering; but, for now, you endured it just so you could lay with him a little longer. His gentle breathing in combination with the sounds of rain tapping on the roof made a soothing ambiance.

♦ Prompto Argentum

Gunshots were going off all around him, like bombs exploding in a series, one after the other, after the other, again and again. His ears were ringing, though he was focused on the opponents advancing, shifting, and moving frantically around him. Watch everyone’s back… but Prompto didn’t consider watching his own. That was a job you assigned yourself.

It was just another bullet, that sounded no different than all the others. You had been shot before; but, this… this was something far different. The bullet lodged itself deep into your side, burying itself between your ribs. What followed was unlike anything you had experience before. Your body went limp and you immediately dropped to your knees. The round burned through your flesh and send powerful shock waves coursing through your body. On the floor, you violently convulsed.

Prompto called out your name, likely with the intent of checking on you; however, you didn’t reply, rendered completely void of the ability to move. Yet, you could feel everything: the violent shock waves, the burning bullet, the cold dirt beneath you. Prompto was standing behind you, out of sight, leaving you to stare with teary eyes at advancing magitek soldiers.

When he turned around, though you couldn’t see his face, the fear was evident in his tone. There were no clear words. Prompto just yelled, a guttural, violent sound that tore you apart from the inside out. He stepped over your body to fight off the advancing soldiers. There were too many for him to turn back and check on you. Consciousness slipped away, swiftly and without mercy.

… … … … …… … … … …

He was a nervous wreck, crying and babbling and trembling, shaking Ignis as the bifocaled man attempted to treat your wounds. Gladiolus took control of the situation. He didn’t grab Prompto by the shoulders or even smack a hand against the back of his head. No. Gladiolus straight up punched the blonde, right in the jaw. It wasn’t hard, but it was enough to get him to stumble back and shut up. “Pull yourself together!” he bellowed at him.

To his surprise, the blonde didn’t sink away, but immediately stood back upright and charged at him. “I can’t! WHAT IF SHE-!?” However, it was Ignis, this time, who silenced him. “Prompto-!” He didn’t finish his sentence; he didn’t have to. With the bullet now pulled from your flesh, the wound cleaned and bandaged, and a healing potion poured over you and slowly sinking into your body, you began to return to the world of the living.

Everyone went silent as you started to groan and shift uneasily on the ground. Ignis had an arm around your back, keeping you upright. His other hand was still pressing on the bandage he had applied to your wound, keeping it in place. Disheveled, you weren’t entirely sure what was happening, and merely looked up at him with a glossy expression that suggested you weren’t really looking at him at all.

Prompto whispered your name, sinking to his knees in the dirt beside you. “I’m sorry,” was the first thing that came out of your mouth. Through blurry eyes, you could see everyone standing around you. They did not look down on you with contempt, but worry; and, yet, you felt the sting of the trouble you had caused. You had fallen in battle and, as a result, caused unnecessary strain on the group.

“What are you sorry for!?” Prompto squealed, gesturing his confusion frantically with his hands. Ignis removed his hand from the bandage, trusting the adhesive would keep it still for the time being. In a silent exchange, Ignis removed his arm from around you, allowing Prompto to slide in. His arms wrapped around your upper back and his legs slid around yours, his chest pressing against your back. You caught a glimpse of the tears that stained his cheeks before his head descended into your neck.

“I’m so glad your alright,” he choked against your flesh. He didn’t care if the others watched. He had to cry, just a little longer. It was unfair. With your wound still fresh and burning terrible, a rib likely broken, you couldn’t turn around and return Prompto’s embrace. Your hands held his where they crossed over your chest, fingers limply squeezing his.

♦ Gladiolus Amicitia

When he could, the king’s shield guarded not only the precious life of his kingdom’s ruler, but the lives of his comrades: watch Ignis’ back, bark at Prompto to stay focused, and yank you back on your feet when necessary. This time, however, there were too many opponents for him to watch everyone. Noctis needed his aid, strike down low so he could strike up high - keep the enemy distracted so he could move in for a finishing blow.

Too focused on what lay ahead, Gladiolus didn’t catch an abnormally large unit swooping in from the far right. Its mechanical parts hissed as it lifted a massive sword, intending to come crashing down on his back. Your eyes immediately soaked in the sight. His sword was still on the ground. Even if he spun around, he wouldn’t have a chance to lift his blade and counter strike. Three seconds… two…

Your feet carried you faster than you ever imagined, placing you between Gladiolus and the brute machinery. Your blade lifted, intending to block the sweeping mechanical weaponry. It slammed down on you with the force of a mountain, the magitek blade shattering through yours. Shards of metal rained down on you, some pieces of your own blade piercing through your chest. Your legs crumbled and your back slammed into the unforgiving ground below. The sound that broke free from your throat echoed around the battlefield.

Gladiolus didn’t see you fall, but saw the aftermath: your body, limp, corpse-like, on the ground, pieces of your blade scattered around you, and blood oozing from the fresh wounds on your chest. An animal like sound erupted from him, a choke, a grunt, something that was both frightening and concerning. Dirt kicked up around you as the fight carried on. Whatever happened next, you were uncertain. You could hear the fury of moving bodies, metal clashing on metal, swords and bullets slicing the wind; but, your vision had dulled and, eventually, consciousness, too, faded.

… … … … …… … … … …

When you first awoke, you didn’t immediately move. Your chest felt heavy, like a weight was pressing down on you. As consciousness steadily grew more potent, making it clear that your predicament wasn’t a dream, you realized that weight was pain. Your flesh was on fire, body crying out in agony. Something thick was wrapped around you, limiting your upper body movement. It wasn’t immediately obvious to you that you were twitching and groaning, until a familiar voice reached out.

“Hey - be still,” he calmly, albeit a bit roughly, commanded. “Hell no - gotta pee,” you immediately barked back at him. The rough voice that you knew so well chuckled lightly at your snappy remark. You felt his large hands slide down your arms, before his non-dominant hand grasped your waist to slowly hoist you into a seated position. “What - you guys outta potions or cheap?” you questioned, groaning at the aching in your chest and upper abdomen. Once you were upright, your back began to ache, as well.

“Tch. ‘Course not. Gotta let your body catch up…” Gladiolus trailed off and came properly into your view when he sunk to the floor. On his knees, he sat at the edge of the bed, staring up at you with an uneasy gaze. It was clear, in those worried, tired eyes what hell he had been enduring.

His long hair was greasy, sticking to his neck and limp. It was quite contrasting to the manner in which it usually appeared: luscious, wild, and silky. Dirt, grease, and possibly dried blood was smeared across his forehead and stuck in his beard. Clearly, he had not showered since the battle. Had he honestly just sat here and watched you? The way his amber eyes soaked in the sight of your conscious face suggested so.

Gladiolus might not have been as poetically honest as Ignis or one to wear his heart on his sleeve, like Prompto; however, his eyes were a novel of his emotions, completely incapable of keeping a single secret from you. “I’ll feel much better after you take me to the bathroom,” you commented, mentally cheering when your remark forced a smile from the brute. “Yeah… if you promise to be careful next time…” The concern and fear in his voice was a bit frightening; but, at the same time, it made your heart swell.

♦ Ignis Scientia

Focus… focus… was what Ignis consistently thought to himself. There were too many enemies and too much at risk for him to falter, even for a second. Create openings for Gladio, aid in Noctis’ advances, make sure Prompto stays in good range… watch your back. But, in that moment, Ignis couldn’t watch your back. He only had one pair of eyes, one mind to focus on what lie ahead. Had he turned away from you for too long? That was the very thing that echoed in his mind when he turned and saw you, trapped beneath not one, or two, but three magitek soldiers.

Panic erupted within him and he charged his way through the battlefield, with a fury that could challenge even Noctis. He knocked one soldier away, and then another, but the last one was faster than he was. You had countered its blade with your own, but it pushed past the impressive steal, breaking your defense and piercing deep into the flesh between your chest and shoulder.

Ignis lifted his blades to strike at the unit; however, just as he did so, another soldier advanced on him from behind, knocking him down in a fury of spins. Your hands grabbed at the blade that pierced you, attempting to prevent it from going any deeper. Your eyes squeezed shut, tears leaking from between the lids. The pain melted from your thoughts, drowned out by the anguished cries of Ignis as he shouted, “hold on! HOLD ON!”

It was unclear who had finally knocked the soldier off of you. When you felt the weight fall off, your hands slid from the blade and went limp beside you. Gentle hands caressed you and made you feel weightless. “Ignis…” you whimpered, unable to move. Maybe you had opened your eyes, but your scattered thoughts left you unable to see. Immediately, the world drifted away into senseless oblivion.

… … … … …… … … … …

“Darling, please be still,” his voice pleaded with you. You had awoken at the most inconvenient of times, whilst Ignis attempted to rewrap the bandages that covered your wound. The potion had managed to at least get the bleeding under control and had closed the wound enough to allow him to administer stitches. He didn’t have to guess what kind of pain you were in; he could see it.

“Trying,” you replying, hissing through clenched teeth. You were staring down at the horrendous sight. The gaping wound exposed bright red flesh and lightly oozed dark red blood. Staring at it likely just made it hurt more. The stitches needed to be replaced, something Ignis could not wait on. “Look at me,” he gently commanded, his eyes flickering up to your face for a moment. “Focus on me,” he further instructed once you looked up at him. His green orbs captured yours then, his eyes unrelenting in their demand for your undivided attention.

Understanding, you nodded compliantly and kept your eyes on his face, even when he looked away to begin removing the old stitches. It felt awful, like worms crawling between the layers of your skin, eating their way through. Thankfully, he was quick. His skilled fingers had new stitches in place before you even realized the old ones had been tossed out.

His arms reached around you a few times as he began rewrapping the wound dressings. When he finished and pulled back, your eyes caught the dark red splotches that stained his dress shirt. “Iggy,” you choked out, the pain from your wound and guilt from ruining his shirt mingling. “I’m sor-” Immediately, he silenced you, as if your apology had stung him.

“Don’t be... I’m sorry that I wasn’t able to protect you. A bloody shirt is… hardly equal trade for that.” Ignis stood up properly then, stepping away for just a moment to retrieve something. He returned rather quickly with cloth in his hands. As he pressed it onto your bloodied skin, you realized it was wet and warm. He wiped the blood away, carefully and meticulously. As soon as he was done, he moved to pull the blanket over your body, likely with the intent of giving you some modest comfort.

With his hand finally in reach, your trembling fingers slid possessively over his, catching his hand and making him go still. “...Ignis...?” He avoided your gaze, but allowed his fingers to squeeze gently at your smaller digits. “Thank you...” He had saved your life, making such simple words seem so pathetic by comparison; but, his smile spoke volumes. “...no. Thank you... for staying with me.”

#ffxv #ffxv imagine #final fantasy xv #noctis x reader #prompto x reader #gladiolus x reader #ignis x reader #final fantasy xv imagine #fanfiction #reader fanfiction #chocobros x reader #Noctis Lucis Caelum #prompto argentum #ignis scientia #gladiolus amicitia

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