Tumgik
#painfully beautifully HUMAN choice to not be alone
lispenard-street · 3 months
Note
3, 12, 14, and 15 for FT asks? :D
Okay so to start with I’m sorry that I took so long to answer this!! Thank you for asking you lovely person and also I’ve been drinking for hours (merry christmas ho ho ho 🎅🏼) so these answers may be a load of unintelligible shit but lol whatever lets go
3. What is your favourite episode and why?
It might be a controversial one but honestly? Episode 1. I just love beginnings. The hope and potential and possibility of a fresh start, the excitement and thrill of the unknown, the electricity of new connections, I’m just a sucker for it. I watched episode 1 when it first aired and honestly felt as though it could’ve existed as a stand alone short film. It was the perfect way to set the scene for the series but also was such a beautifully told story in its own right. Idk if any of you have watched Weekend by Andrew Haigh? Idk if I’m chatting nonsense here but it gave me a similar vibe to that… all the emotion and potential and unspoken truths simmering under the surface, intense feelings manifesting as sexual interplay… all of it culminating in what felt like somewhat repressed and wasted potential. I’ll shut up now lol but it was such a perfect first episode. I could babble about it endlessly.
12. Which song, used in soundtrack, you liked the most?
Ooooh such a good question - are we talking about the score, or are we talking songs that were included? Whatever I’ll do both
Score wise can I just say it is the most fucking gorgeous soundtrack, I am such a slut for a good soundtrack and this one has me in a chokehold I love it. It’s so emotional, I cry just listening to it. Paul Leonard-Morgan I loge you you’re a genius
My favourite piece of music from the score has to be Waiting for Tim, it makes my heart ache. I’d love to say something a bit more eloquent about it but honestly it just makes me want to throw up from emotion ✌️ omg and Forbidden Joy that plays during the game of charades in ep2, that scene makes me feel like someone just scooped out my insides
Aside from the score I loooove anything by Arthur Russell, especially Love Is Overtaking Me. If Its Magic by Stevie Wonder is also amazing, especially as a choice for the opening scene. Also You Turned The Tables On Me by Anita O’Day. And omg Found A Cure by Ashford and Simpson that plays when Tim and Hawk are dancing in the club, so so so good
14. Do you have any unpopular opinions about Fellow Travelers?
Hmm….
I don’t think it’s controversial, but I do think that all the people on TikTok and the like who comment like ‘Fuck Hawk he’s evil and never loved Tim!!!’ must either be emotionally constipated or like 14 years old. Like how can a fully grown adult watch this show and come to that conclusion???? And whyyyy are people so obsessed with good vs bad? ‘Tim is an innocent baby and Hawk is a BAD MAN’ like how is that all you see?? Surely that is the least interesting thing about these characters? The most wonderful thing about this show is that everybody is painfully human, they hurt and hurt others and make mistakes just like we do. How can you boil down an entire human being to being ‘good’ or ‘bad’? It’s boring and I have no interest in it. It’s so telling of the time that we live in, that people immediately want to categorise human beings based on their perceived morality. All the characters in this show are just shades of grey, they are nuanced complicated human beings carrying all the complexity that a human being should carry. The focus should not be on bad vs good. It frustrates me!! That is surely the least interesting thing about these characters!! They have such rich inner worlds and such complex motives and you want to reduce them down to “Hawk is bad man and Tim is innocent baby and Lucy is evil lady” ugh it’s so BORING how is that all you see
15. What is your favourite relationship from the show (could be romantic or platonic)?
Oh this is so easy. Obviously fav romantic is Hawk and Tim - pretty self explanatory, I won’t elaborate or we’ll be here all day
Favourite platonic is Tim and Jackson without a shadow of a doubt, I’ve talked about this quite a lot on here already (I think? Or was that on reddit?) but yeah, I just feel as though they were connected from the moment Jackson was born and, similarly to how infrequent Hawk and Tim’s interactions were, Tim and Jackson remained connected for life, regardless of how much time and distance was placed between them. They were kindred spirits. I feel as though their scenes together were some of the most pure and honest and powerful in the entire show.
9 notes · View notes
buildingbirbhouses · 3 years
Text
So I finally finished that one podcast
I think this is one of those stories that I’m going to be thinking about until I die and I’m going to start with spoilery ranting in the tags sorry
#tma#this might be an unpopular opinion but: the ending was absolutely perfect#I've been trying nonstop to reverse engineer how and why it worked so well for me it's just. so good#like I have a hard time liking tragic endings sometimes because it's really easy for them to end up making it feel like character agency#and growth and struggle didn't really matter in the end but somehow my boy jonny pulled off this impossible beautiful trick where#the stakes were impossibly big and there was no way to win and everyone's fatal flaws got 'em in the end BUT#the very last choice that the characters had the power to make. in the middle of all this horrible huge uncaring awfulness. was this just.#painfully beautifully HUMAN choice to not be alone#it was this incredible crown jewel on the series-long character arc of the archivist getting more human as he gets less human yknow?#on the wider scale of the world it should have felt insignificant but y'all the WEIGHT that that had? the way that it Mattered so much?#shit's gonna haunt me. the magnus archives sure is a podcast huh#I'm still trying to put my finger on how and why it was so cathartic. like I was warned repeatedly that this show sure does have an ending#but when it happened I just felt. light#I realized that there were birds chirping in the background of the last scene and THAT is when I happycried#(which makes. no sense in the wider context of the world. like cosmically technically that's not *really* a good thing)#which comes back to!! when there are no good choices and no way to win and nothing you do will avoid causing more suffering!#letting the choice come down to one last tiny rebellious grab at human connection?? fuck y'all this shit is going to hAUNT ME I TELL YOU#also. you'll always get bonus points from me when the last shot of the horror movie implies that the spooky thing is still out there#and between the whole. yeet the tapes somewhere else and the fears will follow thing and the fact that the last lines of the whole thing#were. if anyone is listening to this I'm sorry and good luck#I'm listening to this ohoho the tapes have landed in MY universe ohohohoho well played#it's that creepypasta thing of like. Now that you've read this the curse has passed to you ooohoho spooky#I'm a big sucker for that. just a little creepy knock on the fourth wall. delightful#overly analytical rambling about podcasts on MY blog?? in the year of our lord 2021?? it's more likely than you'd think#the magnus archives#tma spoilers#<that should have come earlier but I was having a moment and I'm not retyping all of that ^ lets hope this hellsite doesn't still do the#thing where only the first few tags are search/blockable sorry
22 notes · View notes
angelicyoongie · 3 years
Text
Out of the Woods (II)
— pairing: wolf hybrid namjoon x human f!reader — genre: fluff, angst, slight smut — word count: 5.5K — warnings: injury, blood, mentions of past abuse — summary: Promising Jihyo that you were going to stay away from your writing for one weekend had been easy in theory, but much harder to actually do once you reached the little cabin the woods. To make matters worse, the only thing that rivals your inability to keep promises is your terrible luck – and after a particularly bad choice leads you to get lost in the mountains, you suppose that it's only karma that you end up face to face with a wolf that looks ready to rip your throat out.
Part I / II / III
Tumblr media
You stare at the hand wrapped tightly around yours as the wolf hybrid leads you down the rest of the slope. You can still feel the imprint of his chest against your back, the lingering heat from his body still wrapped around yours. The ghost of his raspy, smooth voice brushing over your ear, his words branded into your chest.
Please don’t leave me.
You wince with each step, the dull pain in your ankle growing harder to ignore. You can see the muscles in his golden arms tense as your step falters, the wolf hybrid’s grip tightening before you can stumble down the last stretch of the incline. He’s keeping your hand almost at height with his shoulders, making it easier for you to borrow some support as you hobble forward.
You keep yourself focused on his hand, on how his long and slender fingers are enveloping yours. They’re a little rough against your skin, but they’re still pretty. Your cheeks are flushed red as you limp forward, but you blame that on the near death experience you just had – and certainly not on the hybrid’s thumb absentmindedly running over your knuckles every few steps. And it’s definitely not because the man in front of you is completely naked. The close proximity means that the expanse of the hybrid’s broad back fills most of your vision, but you’re not willing to take any chances. His body isn’t there for you to ogle at. So, his hand is a good, safe, place for you eyes to latch on to. The hybrid clearly doesn’t have any qualms about his lack of clothes, and it makes you wonder just how long he’s been out here on his own – how long he’s been alone.
You swallow thickly as the ground underneath your feet begins to flatten out, the strain on your ankle becoming a little less painful. You can probably walk on your own now, but it doesn’t seem like the wolf hybrid has any plans of letting you do that, his fingers wrapping even more firmly around yours as you try to let go of his hand. You see a few faint marks on the inside of his wrist, but the angle his hold your hand makes it too difficult to make anything out. If anything, it’s likely just some scratches from the wilderness. You can’t help but notice that one of his gray ears seem to be permanently turned in your direction, only twitching when you let out little huffs of air.
He hasn’t spoken since he uttered those four words – not since he begged you to stay, and the only thing you could think to do was shakily step out of his embrace and ask him to bring you back down. You can’t stay. You're not quite sure why the realization makes you feel so torn. Sure, the hybrid has taken care of you, but you don’t really know him. Hell, you don’t even know his name. But still, your heart stutters painfully as you remember the desperation in his voice, the subdued whine that escaped his lips as you pulled away. The hybrid had only given you a curt nod in response to your request, his back turned to you and hand outstretched before you could even get a good look on his face.
You sneak a quick peek at his profile as he helps you along the path, your breath getting caught in your throat as you catch a glimpse of his strong jaw and oh no, is that a dimple? The wolf hybrid’s silver ears and messy hair compliments his sunkissed skin beautifully, and there is no doubt in your mind that this man must be stunning. Maybe it’s a good thing you haven’t gotten a good look at his face yet, getting weak in the knees sounds like bad plan when you’re already one foot down. You quickly push the thoughts away, turning your attention back to the forest in front of you. You swear something about it looks a little more familiar than before. You only need to hobble through the forest for another few minutes before you realize why.
The wolf hybrid has lead you straight to the lake you and Jihyo passed two days ago, the exact one you were trying to find when you managed to get lost. The weather might be slightly gloomier today, but it still looks absolutely breathtaking as you draw closer. The tension in your shoulders ease up as you realize just how close you are to the cabin, it probably won’t take much longer than an hour to get back even with your throbbing foot. Which is great, but the release of tension also makes you acutely aware of just how irritated your ankle truly is, and it feels like it might break clean off if you don’t get a break soon.
“Can we, uh, rest for a little while? My foot ..” You trail off uncertainly, watching as the hybrid’s head cocks in your direction. He stops in his tracks, ears swivelling around rapidly as he listens to the forest, his grip still tight around yours. He gives you another nod after a few seconds of silence, steering you carefully over to a fallen log. You close your eyes in relief as you sit down, a groan falling from your lips as you finally get the chance to alleviate the pressure on your ankle.
“Thank you,” You murmur, glancing down at your foot as you try to best position to rest it in. You freeze as you see the wolf hybrid’s bare feet out of the corner of your eye, heat creeping up your neck as you realize the position you’ve put yourself in. You’re at eye-level with his dick. There’s no way to look up at him without seeing it, and that’s not something you want to deal with right now.
“Here," You hastily shrug off your windbreaker, offering it out for the hybrid with a grimace, “you can use it to cover up.” Rough fingers brush over your own as the wolf hybrid grabs your jacket, presumably–hopefully–wrapping it around his waist as you keep your eyes firmly on the ground. You don’t dare lift your gaze until the hybrid sinks down on the log next to you with a huff, your heart nearly leaping out of your chest as you find his eyes already locked onto your face. 
The wolf hybrid is beautiful. Your lips part open in surprise as you take in his face, the slight pout to his lips and the gentleness in his expression leaving you a little breathless. He looks kind. Sweet. You don’t understand how someone like him could be left out here all alone.
“I-I'm sorry,” The wolf hybrid cowers under your stunned gaze, his ears falling flat against his head. “Should I stay .. wolf? You upset,” His voice is hoarse and pained as he stutters out his words, his lips forming awkwardly around the syllables. The intention behind his words hits you like a slap to the face. He thinks you don’t like his human form, and he’s willing to turn back to not make you upset.
“No!” You blurt, “I mean, I’m uh, not upset. If you want to, please stay in your human form. It’s nice to be able to talk to you.” The wolf hybrid doesn’t quite seem to believe you, his ears pressing even flatter against his head as he shakes his head.
“What’s your name?” 
The hybrid's mouth is pressed into a thin line, and for a second you think he might not answer, but then he mutters out a soft, “Namjoon.”
“Namjoon?” You echo, finding you like the way his name rolls off your tongue. The wolf hybrid’s ears perk up at the sound of his name, the bushy tail behind his back doing a startled wag as Namjoon’s eyes find yours. You give him a soft smile, rubbing your hands nervously at your thighs as you finally ask the question that has been burning away at your curiosity for the past few hours.
“Why are you out here all alone?” The muscles in Namjoon's shoulders tense at your question, the warmth in his golden brown eyes hardening into something you can’t quite decipher. The wolf hybrid looks ready to bolt any second, his eyes flickering around the forest as he says, “Ran way .. bad place. No going back.”
You detest that you’re not even surprised, that the mistreatment of hybrids is so common that it has become almost more normal than treating them like actual human beings. The wolf hybrid looks to be your age, maybe even a little older, and it makes your stomach drop to think about just how many years he must’ve spent out here in his animal form for speech to become this hard – for it to become a struggle.
“I’m so sorry Namjoon, it must’ve been hard being all alone up here,” Your fingers twitch against your thigh, resisting the urge to reach out for him.
“Not alone now, have you,” Namjoon’s raspy voice sends a shiver down your spine, the certainty laced with his next word making your heart skip a beat. “Pack.” The wolf hybrid carefully reaches out for your hand, slowly wrapping his fingers around yours as he watches your mind trying to process his words.
You know it normally takes a long time for a hybrid to consider someone, especially humans, to be a part of their pack, so the fact that Namjoon refers to you as his after only a few days leaves you stunned – and a little bit out of your depth. Then again, Namjoon’s situation isn’t exactly normal. Usually hybrids are much more in-tune with both their human and animal side, but from what you can gather, it doesn’t seem like Namjoon has tapped into his humanity in years. It would make sense for his animal instincts to be more dominant, for doubt and hesitation to take a backseat. But still, his pack?
You catch the slight motion as the wolf hybrid’s eyes stray to your neck, the memory hitting you at full force now that you realize the implications behind your actions. In the midst of your panic when you thought Namjoon was going to tear you limb from limb, you had bared you neck. You had submitted. And Namjoon had accepted you. You wince, sucking in a deep breath as unease swirls in your stomach. Even if you weren’t aware of what you were doing at the time, this is still your fault. You really want to fix this whole mess, but you fear that the one thing you can’t do for him, is the only thing the hybrid wants.
“Namjoon,” You hesitate as you feel his tail wag happily against the log, the words feeling heavy on your tongue as you say, “I can’t stay.” A lull falls over the forest as the rhythmic thumping stops, the grip around your hand slackening as the wolf hybrid hangs his head.
He keeps his eyes on the ground as he whispers out a broken, “Don’t go.” You feel your heart ache as you watch him open and close his mouth, the furrow between his brows deepening as he can’t seem to find the words he needs. “Take care of you. Please.” You think it might hurt less if you just let the wolf hybrid rip you to shreds instead, the pained desperation in his voice making you eyes sting.
“I’m sorry,” You mutter, “I need to go home.” The word leaves a bitter taste in your mouth. Home. At the start of your trip you couldn’t wait to return to your apartment, but when you really think about it, have you ever truly considered it home? Sure, you've managed to make it nice and cozy over the last years, but there’s no warmth there, no sense of belonging. Still – you can’t stay here in the mountains.
Namjoon’s ears are pressed flat against his head, his expression turning blank as he withdraws his hand. “Okay,” The wolf hybrid’s jaw is tense as he stares out at the lake, his gaze empty and distant. You ignore the throbbing in your foot as you clamber back up to your feet, taking a few steps forward as you take in the sight of the lake for the last time. The scattered wildflowers don’t seem as charming anymore, and the large body of water suddenly feels more imposing than welcoming. You freeze as Namjoon lets out a low groan, the sound suddenly transforming into a whimper behind your back. You nearly jolt out of your skin as something wet touches your hand, a warm breath spilling across your fingers as you look down. You meet Namjoon’s golden eyes, the wolf letting out a small huff before he nudges your windbreaker closer to your feet. You don’t know why it feels like a defeat that he transformed back, but you can’t shake the hollow feeling in your chest as you thread your fingers into his fur, jacket wrapped around your waist as he leads you back to the cabin.
Tumblr media
The wolf’s ears starts to flicker a few minutes before you can pick up Jihyo’s frantic speech in the distance, the dark roof of the cabin coming into view. You’re a little off the trail, the forest much denser around this side of the clearing. Namjoon suddenly halts as he reaches the edge, and you wince from the extra force on your foot as you stumble to catch yourself. The wolf’s tail is tucked between his legs, a pitiful whimper filling the silence as you gently untangle your hand from his fur. You brush it down carefully, already missing the coarse yet soft hairs tickling against your skin as you take a step back.
“Thank you Namjoon,” You swallow around the lump in your throat, forcing your lips into a soft smile as you gaze down at him. The wolf turns his head back to the forest, golden eyes scanning the area before he quickly pushes his head against your hand, guiding your palm over the fur between his ears. Your knees go weak with fondness as you pat his head, the wolf swiping his tongue over the exposed skin of your wrist as you scratch behind his ears. It’s Namjoon that reluctantly pulls away first, his golden eyes soft yet sad as he pushes his snout one last time against your palm. He sits down with a huff, turning his head in the direction of the cabin. The message is clear; he’s not leaving until you are. The goodbye grows and dies in your mouth, your lips refusing to let it slip past as you look down at him. You spare him one last glance, trying to commit as much of him to memory as you can, before you stumble out of the tree line.
It only takes a few steps before you hear Jihyo’s shrill, “Y/n!” and you watch as your friend sprints across the field to meet you. Jihyo knocks into you so hard you nearly topple over, her arms wrapped around your body so tightly you almost fear she’ll squeeze you to death.
“Where were you? What happened? Oh my god, you’re hurt!–” You let Jihyo’s concerned rambling distract you from the empty feeling in your stomach, each step feeling heavier than the last as she helps you walk back to the cabin. You spare one last glance over your shoulder, hoping to maybe see a flash of silver through the trees, but there’s nothing.
Namjoon is gone.
And you’re both alone again.
Tumblr media
It was all a rush after you returned. Jihyo had been searching for you night and day, a few of her father’s best employees helping out. The road up to the cabin had been cleared, so instead of having to trek down on your sprained ankle, Jihyo had whisked you away in a car with the destination set for the closest hospital. It took a while before you could collect your thoughts enough to tell her what happened, the words sounding ridiculous even to your own ears as you retold the story.
Jihyo had a deep frown on her face from the hospital to your apartment, uncharacteristically silent as she helped you to your couch. Sinking down on the mountain of plush pillows felt like heaven after sleeping on the ground for two nights, your limbs tired and aching. You really need a shower, but the temptation to rest your foot for an hour is frankly too strong. You watch as Jihyo raids your fridge for drinks and food, the frown not leaving her lips until you’ve stuffed your face with a sandwich.
“Why didn’t you just ask him to come with you?” You nearly choke on a piece of bread at her sudden question, quickly taking a sip of water to chase it down.
“What do you mean?” You croak.
“Well, it’s not like he specifically asked you to stay up in the mountains right? He only asked that you would stay with him. I’m not sure how much I like this, but he did take care of you, and he brought you back safely. If he wanted to hurt you he had many opportunities to do so,” Jihyo purses her lips, her eyes flickering around the room. 
"You seem .. smitten. I can remember the last time you looked so fond talking about someone else. It seems like he already considers you to be his pack, so if you want to, I don’t see any harm in asking him to come home with you,” You feel a steady blush rise in your cheeks as Jihyo talks, your heart skipping a beat at the thought of having Namjoon here in your apartment. You couldn’t ..
"It’s not natural or healthy for hybrids to be alone and shifted for such a long time, so you would honestly be doing him a favour. Even if he doesn’t stay with you, he needs to get checked-up.” You find yourself nodding along to Jihyo’s words before you can stop yourself, her eyebrows rising in amusement. She is right, after all. Even if Namjoon doesn’t want to stay, it’s important to make sure he’s healthy. Even you go in for yearly check-ups, and you’re sure it’s been far too long since Namjoon did the same. You have to go back and find him.
“But–” Jihyo presses a finger to your chest, “you’re not going anywhere yet. The doctor said full rest for a week, so that’s what you’re going to do.” She shakes her head before you can protest, giving you a stern look as she says, “You’re in no condition to go after him now, you need to heal up if you want to find him again. I’ve seen enough animal planet to know that wolves have pretty big territories, and you won’t be able to cover that much ground with a sprained ankle.” You sink back down in the couch with a disgruntled sound, hating the fact that she’s completely right. You’ll have to wait until you’ve healed. You just hope it won’t be too late.
Tumblr media
“Namjoon?” You wince at the rawness in your throat, your voice ringing through the silent forest. You’ve been out here for hours, but no matter where you go, there’s no sign of the wolf hybrid. You even managed to get back to the little cave Namjoon had brought you to, but that too was completely untouched. The only trail you had is dead. The area you’ve ventured into is much denser and harder to navigate, but you refuse to leave until you find him.
You grumble under your breath as a branch almost whacks you straight in the face, and you push it away with a little more force than necessary as you trek on deeper into the woods. Your ankle has healed up nicely, but there’s still a dull ache from the amount of walking you’re putting yourself through. The sprain wasn’t all that bad; it was mostly just the fact that you kept aggravating it that made it so painful. A week of rest did you wonders, and a little bit of discomfort is a price you’re more than willing to pay if it means you’ll find Namjoon again.
“Namjoon?” You call out again, halting in your tracks as you strain to listen for any sounds out of the ordinary. You let out a sigh at the silence that greets you, shaking your head lightly as you take a step forward. You freeze as your foot connect with the ground, a distant howl echoing through the forest. Namjoon.
You can barely even hear the second howl over the frantic beat of your own heart as you take off, stumbling and tripping over roots and twigs as you run in what you hope is the right direction. The mountain is disorienting at best, but you have no fear of getting lost this time. Jihyo made sure you would be properly prepared. 
It’s not until the fourth howl that you realize two things – one, the sound is much closer than you anticipated, and two, it sounds pained. You urge your legs to move faster, your gaze shifting wildly over your surroundings as you call out for him again. You swear you see a flash of silver behind a cluster of trees, and you quickly switch your direction, running straight for what you hope is the wolf hybrid.
“Namjo–” You choke as you skid to a stop, your stomach dropping so fast it leaves you feeling dizzy.
Blood. There’s so much blood. Namjoon’s gray fur is stained with it, the hairs matted and red. You can see the rusted metal of an old bear trap clamped tightly around one of his hind legs, the bone snapped in an awkward angle. Oh god. A pained whine rips you out of your building panic, and the sight of the wolf hybrid attempting to drag himself closer to you despite the trap on his leg finally jolts you back into action.
“No no no, stay still!” You cry as you scramble forward, your stomach doing a dangerous flip as the metallic scent of Namjoon’s blood washes over you. The wolf hybrid is panting as you drop to your knees in front of him, his ears plastered against his skull as he lets out low whimper.
“It-it’s going to be okay,” You hear your voice tremble as you reach out for his head, gently cupping his cheeks between your hands. Namjoon lets the tension in his neck drop the moment you get your hands on him, his head heavy in your hold as you run your fingers over his fur. The wolf hybrid’s body is shaking, his golden eyes barely open as he lets out another whine. You have no idea how many hours he’s been like this, but it’s been too long. He's lost way too much blood.
“You’re going to be fine Namjoon,” You swallow down the bile in your throat as you shuffle around, shifting your hold to gently place his head in your lap. He immediately tries to shuffle closer, not giving up until he’s plastered against your stomach.
“Just, don’t shift, okay? Please don’t shift,” You hastily dig your burrowed phone out of your pocket, vision blurry as you type in Jihyo’s number. Seeing Namjoon’s human form might make it easier to gauge his injuries, but if he shifts while he’s still trapped, you have no doubt it’s just going to tear his leg up even more. 
He lets out a whine as you hands leave his fur, his eyes almost rolled back into his head from the pain. The leg that’s trapped doesn’t even twitch, and Namjoon’s body feels horribly cold as you hurry to run your hands over his fur.
“Y/n? Did you find him?” Jihyo’s voice has never sounded more angelic than when she picks up the phone, you body sagging with relief.
“You can track my location, right? It’s Namjoon–” You force down the sob bubbling in your throat as the wolf hybrid whimpers at the sound of his name, the sound soft and weak. “–he’s hurt.”
Tumblr media
“Excuse me,” You whip your head up at the sound of someone clearing their throat, a rather frazzled nurse standing in front you. “Are you here with the wolf hybrid? Kim Namjoon?”
“I am. Is something wrong?” You push out of the plastic chair with a wince, ignoring the queasy feeling in your stomach. It’s been hours since you arrived at the hospital, but the image of Namjoon’s blood pooling around his body doesn’t seem to want to let go of you just yet.
“He’s–" The nurse let out a deep sigh, “I think you need to come with me.” She turns on her heel, motioning for you to follow without another word. Oh god, what if he’s dead? The wolf hybrid had been rushed into an emergency operation immediately upon arrival, so there wasn’t much else that you could do than wait. Hope that he would be okay. 
You hurry after the nurse, nearly tripping over your own feet at quick speed she keeps as she marches down the hall. You’ve barely managed to catch up when she halts outside a door, an exasperated expression on her face as she says, “We’re keeping him under observation for now and he’s not really supposed to have any visitors yet, but he’s being … difficult.” You jump as something clatters to the ground inside the room, the deep growl hardly even muffled by the closed door.
“He’s a still a little out of it, but not dangerous. You’ll see what I mean,” With that, the nurse pushes the door open, stepping aside to allow you entry into Namjoon’s room. You suck in a breath as you step inside, the floor littered with scattered papers and trays. Namjoon is perched up in bed, a heavy cast around his leg. Whatever they were trying to do, the wolf hybrid obviously wasn’t having it. He’s twisted towards the doctor by his side, the man keeping a good distance from the injured hybrid as he let out another harsh growl. You stare in shock as Namjoon bares his teeth, his posture rigid and tense as he eyes the doctor distrustfully. The doctor notices you before Namjoon does, a soft 'thank god' muttered under his breath as he waves for you to come closer.
“Hey Namjoon,” The wolf hybrids nose wrinkles just as your soft voice carries across the room, his ears springing up on his head as he shifts his attention to you.
“Y/n,” Namjoon’s eyes light up as he catches sight of you, his hands practically tearing up the bed sheets as he tries to untangle himself. The action feels awfully familiar to when he tried to drag himself closer despite the bear trap, and you have no intention of watching him trying to walk on his broken leg.
“I thought I told you to stop moving,” You rush forward before he can get himself fully out of bed, pushing him back with a firm shove to his chest. Namjoon falls back without protest, his wide eyes scanning over your face as a loopy smile blooms on his lips.
“Sorry,” He rasps as he engulfs your hand with his, keeping it tucked securely against his body. You can feel the steady thrum of his heart against your palm, beating in rhythm with the soft beeps from the monitor he’s hooked up to.
“We were trying to explain to Mr. Kim that we need to do some tests, but he doesn’t quite seem to share the same sentiment,” The doctor glances back towards the door as a the nurse brings in a new tray of equipment, a weary frown on his face as he picks up a shot. The growl builds in Namjoon’s throat so fast you nearly jump out of your skin, the hold he has around your hand feels like he’s two seconds away from snapping it in half.
“It’s okay, it’s just some standard shots,” You hesitantly bring your hand up to his face, slowly turning his head back in your direction.
“You haven’t had check-ups in a while right?” The wolf hybrid shakes his head, his ears twitching as his attention flickers back and fourth between you and the doctor. “It’s just to make sure you stay healthy.” Namjoon nuzzles against your hand with a soft whimper as you run your thumb along his cheek.
“Makes me feel .. bad. Sleepy,” Namjoon’s speech seems to flow a little easier than it did a week ago, but the struggle to find the right words is still there, his brows furrowing in concentration as he whispers, "Don’t like it.”
You swallow thickly, your stomach in knots as you ask, “Did your owner give you those? The shots that made you sleepy?” The wolf hybrid makes a low sound of agreement, his ears turning back. The marks on his wrist you couldn’t figure out, they’re needle marks. You’ve heard of it before, how some owners would drug their more exotic hybrids to keep them calm and docile – to silence the part of their genetics that make them so unique. You glance down at Namjoon, the wolf hybrid staring up at you with so much vulnerability and trust that the thought of someone taking advantage of that it makes you feel ill.
“These won’t make you feel that way, I promise.” You muster up the warmest smile you can manage as you peek over at the doctor, a silent plea in your eyes.
“Oh! Don’t worry Mr. Kim, there are no side effects to these shots. You’ll hardly even notice it,” The doctor quickly adds as he takes a careful step forward. Namjoon lets out a slow breath, golden eyes finding yours and his tail draping across his lap as he grumbles out a hesitant “Okay.”
Tumblr media
“–All done!” You can see the doctor’s shoulders visibly drop as he finally gets the chance to move back, obviously relieved to put some distance between himself and Namjoon. “I’ll be back later to check on your leg and make sure everything is okay.” The sour expression on Namjoon’s face softens as the doctor hurries out the door, the grip around your hand loosening slightly as it clicks shut behind him.
“May I speak with you outside alone for a minute, miss?” You look up at the nurse as she finishes placing a band-aid on Namjoon’s arm, the empty shots rolling around in the tray as she picks it up.
“Oh, sure,” Namjoon lets out a whine as you try to step away, lips formed into a soft pout as you gently extract your hand from his grip. “Don’t worry, I’ll be right back,” You give his shoulder a squeeze before you follow the nurse out, shooting Namjoon what you hope is a comforting smile over your shoulder. The wolf hybrid keeps his eyes trained on you as you leave, his distressed gaze still burning into your back as you close the door behind you. You only take a few steps down the hall before the nurse turns to face you, her expression troubled as she looks you up and down, “I take it he’s not your hybrid?”
“No, he’s not,” You quickly shake your head. “I came across him up in the mountains. He said he ran away from his old owner, and that it was a ‘bad place’. I’m pretty sure it must’ve been a couple of years at least,” You wince. The nurse nods, her gaze shifting around the busy hallway as she thinks.
“I’ll have someone look into it. We need to settle his hospital bills, and only his legal owner can do that.” She must see the way your face drops, because she quickly adds, “I could tell from his old scars that he’s likely been abused. Even if we find his owner, they’re not going to be allowed to take him home. It’ll be looked into.”
“Right, thanks.” You muster up a weak smile. You know how these things go. Even if there’s an investigation, the police are too easy to buy off. There are frankly too many cases like Namjoon’s, and too few cops that actually treat their abuse seriously.
“Can I stay with him until his owner shows up?”
“It’s a little unorthodox, but yes, you can. I don’t think he’ll actually stay inside his room if you don’t.” The nurse lets out a huff, a flash of amusement in her eyes as she waves for you to go back inside. “I’ll let you know once we figure it out, it shouldn’t take too long.”
“Thank you.”
Turning to face Namjoon’s door, you try to shake off the anxious feeling festering in your stomach. You’re not going to let him go back to his old owner. You’re honestly not even sure how you’ve managed to grow attached so quickly, but there’s just something about the wolf hybrid that makes you ready to fight tooth and nail for his safety and happiness – even if it means he won’t find it with you.
Tumblr media
a/n: ahah heyy ... let's just ignore that it took me two months to update this, okay? thank you aksjsk. i decided to split the last part into two, to give myself more time to write a little bit of extra fluff (and smut)! so the third and final part is hopefully coming next week, but if not, it will at least be posted by the end of november. namjoon's speech will get better in the next part and we will learn more about him + his and y/n's relationship will grow! if you like the story then please drop me a reblog/comment, that would mean the world to me! (ps. this story has no tag list!)
as always, see you all soon and stay safe! <3 and in case you enjoy my stories and want to buy me a coffee, you can do so here! 💖
1K notes · View notes
darkandstormyart · 3 years
Text
Xicheng fic recs
(figured i might make a list of my own)
(to be expanded as i dig out more treasure/remember stuff)
Tumblr media
in no particular order:
Deep as the Yearning Night by FreckledStarKnight
“At first, it was pure chance. The second time was accidental. And the third time? Well, they say the third time’s the charm, after all. Lan Xichen discovers that Jiang Wanyin sings beautifully and is immediately enamored by it. His pursuit of Jiang Wanyin’s secret talent leads to a discovery and a series of events that he did not anticipate at all. Not that he’s complaining, of course. He got what he came for and more. Or, how two sect leaders get together through the song called love. CQL-verse.“
post-seclusion lxc
trying to get jc to sing
bonus lxc & jin ling feels i hadn’t considered before
cute
Always use protection by hesselives
“In which Lan Wangji attempts to hire a new bodyguard for his older brother, a well-known traveling exorcist. Jiang Wanyin doesn’t even make his carefully considered list of Top Ten Candidates, and yet here he is.
Lots of wandering in the countryside, distant yelling, and mildly inconvenient spirits.”
bodyguard au
honestly just really intersting worldbuilding
Rewrite the stars by Arashii
“Five great kingdoms have been fighting for years and when the kingdom of Yunmeng is destroyed, the Crown Prince Jiang Cheng vanishes.In Gusu, Lan Xichen makes an offer impossible for Jiang Cheng to refuse. His life or revenge? There’s only one option and Jiang Cheng swears loyalty to the man he hated the most his whole life, the Crown Prince of Gusu, Lan Xichen himself.Written for XiChengFest2020 - Day 4“
ROYALTY AU ROYALTY AU
enemies to lovers!
flashbacks! i love flashbacks so much ohmygod
No paths are bound by Arashii
“In seclusion, Lan Huan has the support of a ghost no one has seen since the massacre of Yunmeng Jiang. His feelings start changing with the often visits and conversations they share. Before Lan Huan can confess though, he ascends, leaving everything and everyone behind him.
Two hundred years later, back to the Human Realm and without powers, the Martial God Zewu-Jun has a mission to uphold. His Heavenly Calamity started. The clues are little and the support comes in the most unexpected form, the current Ghost King: Sandu Shengshou. Now they need to stick together to contain a menace that is slowly growing.“
TGCF AU TGCF AU
ghost king jiang cheng come on
doesn’t follow tgcf plot, just the setup so no spoilers
jiang cheng gets the dogs and the xichen he deserves
once upon a dream by cafedeolla
“Xicheng soulmate AU
An au where your dreams are small snippets of your soulmate’s day. They’d show small things like buying coffee, reading a book, or hanging out with people from their perspective.
The problem was that people always have expectations and Jiang Cheng knows he always falls short of them. Time and time again.“
soulmate au, but being soulmates is more a problem than a solution
misunderstandingssss all over the place
now with a squel (in progress?)
Lan Furen series by jagaimocchi
“Jiang Cheng leaves Lotus Pier before the Wen Internment Camp and before the destruction of his home. When he meets Lan Xichen on the run from the Wens after the burning of Cloud Recesses, his plan to live a peaceful life away from cultivation sects is quickly derailed. Now, free to make his own choices, he cannot find it in himself to leave the other man's side.
With love, patience and time, Jiang Cheng finds his own happiness and peace with his past.“
have you ever wanted a fic where jiang cheng peaces out from home in search for a better life, bc he’s Had Enough??? jags got you covered
adorable xicheng
good uncle-dad-figure Lan Qiren
ongoing <3
Just around the riverbend by JungleJelly
“One day.
Jiang Cheng just wanted one day of peace and quiet, away from home, away from his responsibilities, away from his idiot brother and his nutcases of a mother and father. Just a few hours alone — him and a boat and nothing else.
Clearly, that was too much to ask for.”
now with a new story in the series which is adorable too!!!
mermaid!lxc need i say more?
Bad ideas (where they lead) by JungleJelly
“Jiang Cheng is a busy man. Fortunately, he is also a huge pushover when it comes to his sister, so when she recommends that he start doing yoga, he agrees pretty easily.Featuring Lan Xichen in yoga pants, Jiang Cheng’s inability to handle a crush, and, perhaps most importantly, a big fluffy dog.“
done for 2020 MXTX MiniBang
yoga instructor Lan Xichen
Jiang Cheng is: struggling with a crush on the yoga guy from youtube & very angry about that
If there’s a price for rotten judgement by TheWanderingHeart
“All Jiang Cheng wants to do is, well... his job, really. Other than that? Keep the city safe, keep his nephew alive, keep his sanity intact (if possible).
So when his brother calls with unexpected news, he knows all of that is about to fly out of the window.
***
[Every instinct is telling him don’t ask, you don’t want to know. By this point, Nie HuaiSang has scooted closer to listen. Jiang Cheng takes a steadying breath and pulls out his antacids. “What did you do?”]”
superhero au, come on
jc just trying to do his job in peace
(he can’t)
i love it so much oh my god *sobs*
The Form of Boneless Ice by TheWanderingHeart
“Mythical beasts have long ago been driven to extinction by the gentry — hunted for sport, but more importantly for their magical cores. Since then, there remains only one creature that has never been caught. The Jiang’s retreated a long time ago. Abandoning land altogether, they sought safety where the humans could not reach.It all comes to a head though, purely by chance. (Or is it by fate that a spontaneous decision allows for them to meet? If fate were a rock!) Jiang Cheng suddenly finds his whole life balanced on the head of a pin — on the flimsy promise of a human boy. In his opinion, things cannot possibly get worse!(But then they do when the Wens decide it’s finally time to search for the elusive merpeople, and suddenly nowhere is safe.)“
there she goes again, with another beautiful xicheng story full of awwww and mythology
actually one of the first xicheng fics i read
i chose it because there were mermaids
painfully accurate takes on Jiang family dynamics
kids! lots of kids!
Let me Slytherin to Your Heart by TheWanderingHeart
“Jiang Cheng never thought he'd return to Hogwarts, but in hindsight, he probably should have known that someday he would.With his nephew about to start school, he reluctantly takes his good friend's bad parenting? career? advice and ends up tumbling head-first back into the madness that he hoped he'd left behind... and rediscovering some feelings he thought he'd left behind too.“
Harry Potter au!
just really fecking cute
lots of snakes
[I am not going to link all of Jo’s fics, though I probably could, just my 3 favourites. UOSB is there by default]
Talent Hunt Crew Finds Angry Guy Shouting On College Campus, Recruits Him For Vocal Projection Abilities by oh_fudgecakes
“Jiang Cheng, resident Angry Guy and heir to a conglomerate empire, has never been the apple of his father’s eye. Quashed under the shadow of his brilliant brother, the music prodigy Wei Wuxian, Jiang Cheng sees his chance to turn things around when he is recruited by the All-Stars Lan Talent Hunt. One problem: he can’t sing to save his goddamn life.As he struggles to develop his nascent singing abilities, Jiang Cheng finds himself sucked into the whirlwind drama of reality TV, helped along by his adoring siblings, his irritable vocal coach Wen Qing, and strangely enough, the unfairly attractive host of the All-Stars Lan Talent Hunt, Lan Xichen. Somewhere in the glare of the stage lights and an unexpected first love, Jiang Cheng stumbles upon the thing he was searching for all along: the courage to dream — and to attempt the impossible.“
done for 2019 MXTX Big Bang
uuuuuuuuuuh i might have cried maybe
heartwarming? painful at times? lots of family love?
slowburn xicheng being lovely
The Provenence of Hope series by velithya
“A chance meeting on a night hunt sets a course of events into motion that will change everything. Featuring Xicheng getting together, recovery for Lan Xichen, healing for Jiang Cheng, and always, always, hope.“
got everything. feels. hope. love. ~~healing~~
A Small Measure of Peace by Sandstone112
“With his brother in seclusion, Lan Xichen finds himself in temporary custody of his nephew with little to no expertise in the child-raising department. Uncertain and alone, Zewu-Jun is willing to do everything to be the person Yuan needs—even if it means inviting Sandu Shengshou to a playdate.“
a loooot of adorable family times with jc and lxc taking care of their nephews
good grandpa lqr!
canon but fixed and less painful
🍋🍋🍋🍋🍋if you wish to avoid scurvy:🍋🍋🍋🍋🍋
Some day I’m gonna make you mine series by locketofyourhair
xicheng getting together through the years
friends with benefits but the real benefits are the friends we made along the way
Take me over (take me tonight) by velithya
jiang cheng has a tattoo and lan xichen doesn’t stand a chance
i'd be the sweet feeling of release (mankind now dreams of) by piyo13
two bros, chilling in a cave, no feet apart because they don’t want to lose their cultivation powers what are you gonna do
haven’t read yet and shame on me, but AM GONNA:
Upon Our Silver Bridge by TheWanderingHeart obviously
““When the path ignites a soul, there's no remaining in place. The foot touches ground, but not for long.” ― Hakim Sanai
**
Lan Xichen's sorrows have caught the attention of something. Unlike the adventures and foes they have faced before, there is no obvious enemy here to defeat. If this is the same thing they thought had taken Nie Mingjue's life, then he believes it is fated for him to die as well. Nothing can stop the black fire when it wants to burn.Jiang Cheng is sure his part in this is over. Wei Wuxian is back, his grand adventure concluded, and he'd never been at the centre of it anyway. So what does it matter what happens to him in the end? Slowly, he will come to realise that there will always be a battle to fight, a story to tell, a choice to make, and there is no such thing as an end to anything.“
it was difficult to do things in 2020 and few i regret not doing more than not reading uosb yet :’(
i will tho
Emergency Help Wanted by piyo13
“EMERGENCY HELP WANTED I lied when I got my job. I told them I had a kid so I could leave early from work to pick him up from daycare, take him to doctor's appointments, and occasionally miss a day when he's sick. Long story short, I'm in too deep. I didn't think it through. Looking to rent a kid for bring your child to work day. Must be a boy ages four to six, longish dark hair, likes soccer. Must also be artistic as the macaroni noodle paintings I made seem a little advanced for his age. Also, I will pay extra for someone willing to play the role of husband when dropping him off. He's a prosecuting attorney who often brings his work home. Message me for further details. Serious inquiries only.“
Running Our Hands Through Embers by MarvelousMar
“If asked, Jiang Cheng would compare falling in love with Lan Xichen to a moth inevitably drawn to a flame.It burned.***In which Jiang Cheng discovers that even death can't help him escape from his trauma, so he embarks on a quest to save the people he loves, fix what he can, make the love of his life fall for him, and maybe, somewhere along the way, do a little bit of healing.”
The Beginner’s Guide to Moving On by InvincibleMel
gone from ao3, but i think there’s a link with a pdf going around
534 notes · View notes
imaginedmelody · 3 years
Text
Thanksgiving “Community” Fic Rec Post!
It’s been a hot second since I posted fic recs on this blog! When I went to put this list together, the “Community” fics vastly outnumbered everything else I was planning to include. So I’m dividing this into 2 posts: you’ll get the “Community” ones now, so I can take time to track down some of my faves from other fandoms.
Not to sound saccharine, but Thanksgiving is about gratitude, and the Community fandom is the one I’m most grateful for this year. Both the show and the people I’ve met because of it made 2020 go from a hell year to...well, a slightly more bearable hell year, if we’re honest. And the fandom produces some damn good fics. So here they are, in no particular order, for your quarantine reading pleasure! And be sure to let me know your favorites that I might have missed!
1. “Advanced Companion Reconciliation” by adorations; Troy/Abed, not rated, complete (but part of a series marked in-progress)
This is one of the first fics that really stood out to me when I started getting into Community fic in the late spring/early summer of this year. The fandom is filled with post-series reunion fics where Troy goes to find Abed in LA, and this one is particularly exquisite. The whole story is wonderful, but I’ll go ahead and publicly state that Chapter 4 of this fic is one of the best single pieces of writing I read on AO3 this year. The level of intimacy and understanding and protectiveness between the characters, even in a non-romantic context, is mind-blowing. Their relationship just builds and builds beautifully.
2. “Lessons in Adjustment” and “Remedial Recovery” by biggod ( @nadir-barnes ); Troy/Abed, mature (LiA) / explicit (RR), complete (but part of a series marked in-progress)
A tender, angsty, but absolutely beautiful pair of fics- the first about chronic illness, the second about mental health. It can be a real gamble to take characters from a piece of comedic media and write about them undergoing scary and sad things, but Cherie does it perfectly here. This series will break your heart and make it soar at the same time, because even as Abed struggles to face a painful (and painfully realistic) diagnosis, the love between the characters and their humanity just shines right through. By the end of “Remedial Recovery,” I could feel that moment of learning to wake up to life again just like the characters were. Can’t recommend it highly enough.
3. “Studies in Evolution of Affection” by onemechanicalalligator ( @1mechanicalalligator ); Jeff/Abed, explicit, complete
There are some writers where the main barrier to including them in rec posts like this is that you want to rec everything they’ve written. Maya is absolutely one of those writers. Her fics may not have been the first I read when I joined the fandom, but they were one of the first where I began to make friends, to have conversations and feel like an active participant in the fandom. Like Cherie (above), Maya has also written fics about the characters going through dark situations, especially Abed dealing with mental illness and Jeff recovering from alcoholism (both of which, while dealt with more seriously in her fics than in the show, are canon-compliant aspects of the characters). And there is a special place in my heart for those, but if I had to choose one fic to recommend out of all of her dozens of works, it would be this one. Jeff/Abed is a rarer, more niche pairing, but one with incredible potential, since both Jeff and Abed are damaged in their own ways (and often understand each other better than the others, especially in the later seasons- even when they’re at odds). Each of the chapters is a little glimpse into a different scenario as Jeff and Abed’s relationship develops. Some of them are connected, and some are more stand-alone, but they’re all filled with lovely fluff and hurt/comfort.
4. “Seminar on the Legality of RomCom Tropes” by ama ( @greenandhazy ); Troy/Abed, teen, complete
No joke, this fic may actually have made me cry a little from all the emotions it gave me. It definitely made me gasp and burrow into the pillows smiling and say “awww” out loud. It starts with a pretty solid romantic comedy fake-dating premise: instead of Pierce requiring Troy to sail around the world to earn his $14 million inheritance, the conditions in this fic are that he must get married in one month and remain married for at least a year. After trying and failing to find a partner, Abed agrees to marry him to fulfill the terms of the agreement. And this begins an epic slow-burn for the ages, that rivals any romance movie I’ve watched in recent memory. The way they have to act like a happily married couple while, at the same time, not acknowledging their growing feelings for each other- it’s so beautiful and the longing is exquisite. By the time it ended, the joy I felt was incredible. This is the only single-chapter non-series fic on this list, so if you’re looking to read just one standalone, this is a perfect heartwarming choice.
5. “Basic Heartbreak Repair” by lgbtrobed ( @lgbtrobed ); Troy/Abed, explicit, complete as of TODAY!
While we’re on the topic of slow-burn... This fic is another perfect example of that. It sets up a scenario where the study group reunites in Colorado at Troy’s house, which they are using for Jeff and Britta’s wedding, years after the finale. They’ve kept in touch, but Troy and Abed have only seen each other once since Troy got back from his time at sea- and they’ve never discussed their feelings. The romantic buildup between them is just amazing; they’ve had all this distance, so things feel new, but at the same time it’s palpable how well they know each other. So every little step they take towards one another is absolutely note-perfect.
I can easily think of a dozen amazing fics that I didn’t even have room to include on this list. This fandom is full of some of the most ridiculously talented writers you can imagine. And now that the show is on Netflix streaming and enjoying a revival of popularity, there’s more fandom activity than it’s seen in years. I can’t wait to see what amazing works are waiting for us in 2021!
124 notes · View notes
loquaciousquark · 3 years
Text
QT reread continues
Tumblr media
Intro, TT, and QoA thoughts here and here.
King of Attolia is still probably my favorite book in the five published, though QoA & TaT are close close seconds. There’s so much going on in the background, so much going on in the foreground, and even knowing somehow Gen has all of this in his capable hand/s doesn’t keep us from some incredibly tense moments throughout the novel.
The first time I started KoA, I really, really missed the Gen from Thief. There’s a distance through Costis’s eyes even greater than the sudden 3rd person of QoA; not only because he is an unknown guardsman who’s only known Gen for a few months, but because he hates him. They all do! It’s so hard on the first read because we the readers know how good a person Gen is, how he truly wants the best for the queen and her country (not particularly because he loves her country but because she does, and he loves her), and it hurts to see someone we love bullied, isolated, mocked, and despised for no reason. (The irony of that given the beginning of Gen’s & Irene’s relationship is not lost on me.)
It’s emphasized in every interaction. Not just by the disgust dripping off every one of Costis’s words, internal and external, but even in the narrative. For 99% of the novel, Gen is “the king” to Costis. The king sighed. The king lowered his sword and was standing still, looking exasperated. The king turned his face away. It makes it all the more jarring when we see a section from Ornon’s perspective in the first third of the novel where he is only called Eugenides, not “the king.” It makes it even more poignant and painful and perfect when, at the very end of the novel, Costis watches the sparring bouts and thinks of him as Eugenides as often as he does the king, and even once at the very end, just slipped in as if no one might notice, Gen.
It’s not even entirely Costis’s fault, either! He makes an observation at one point that in the king’s eyes there were things hidden that he chose not to reveal. This is as much Gen’s doing as it is Costis’s; for most of the book he chooses to be king without being king, and so to reveal his capability (with the sword, with his cleverness, with the wielding of power) is to--in his mind--usurp power from Attolia and undermine her authority. Only Relius understands that it can only make her stronger, and even that understanding comes only after he is tortured for betraying Attolia. “Betraying,” perhaps.
(And on that note, I could spend another thousand words on Relius and Teleus and their relationship to Attolia alone, but again, this is getting longer than I want it to. Suffice it to say that these are some beautifully complicated relationships in a book already brimming over with them, and I love how painfully different each one of them is and how similar they are to Gen--all of them at the root bound by their love for the queen.)
I did wonder for the first time on this reread if Gen could have prevented the torture of Relius and chose not to, rather than intervening as soon as he felt he could to rescue him. Perhaps because he knew that Relius would not have believed Gen could still love Irene after the loss of his hand until he himself still loved Irene after his own failure and betrayal; that Gen knew Irene still needed Relius for the security of her throne and for her own humanity, and the only way to gain Relius’s trust would be to show him by example that even in the most abject, broken moments of their lives they would both remain devoted to her service. (Those nighttime meetings with Relius are so precious to me as a reader. They are so small and so perfect.)
And before I leave Gen’s relationships in this book altogether, I want to talk for just a second about how important it is that he and Attolia fight. They get angry at each other a lot in this book, especially Attolia. And it’s all justified! She’s angry when he is publicly humiliated by his attendants & the court--not because he is being humiliated but because he is choosing to allow it, and she knows he could be so much more than he is--and when he places himself in harm’s way, either out of deliberate design (Costis) or rare carelessness (Sejanus). She is toweringly enraged when he denies her the justice she believes is needed after the assassination attempt (”you prefer his mercy to my justice?”), not because she wants to kill Teleus, but because she has held her throne by doing the ruthless things necessary to keep it, and when Gen denies the authority of the kingship it undermines her power, forcing her to become almost more ruthless in her rule to compensate. Better no king than a weak one, as Ornon says, and until Gen publicly shows himself willing to do what is necessary to keep his power, Irene is forced to continue being the exceedingly effective scythe she has been most of her adult life. We know Gen hates and fears the public eye, that he is most effective in the shadows; and yet he married a queen, and there is no choice left that won’t offend the gods but becoming king in the process. And yet, at the same time, we are given the small moments of peace (the gift of stillness, the reveal of the passage between rooms, the conversation in Attolia’s rooms) that remind us at the heart of it they’re just two babes in love, which is why we’re all here to begin with.
(Last thought before I wrap up: I continue to adore the portrayal of the gods in these books. I love that they are manifestly real and manifestly limited in their power, that Gen is allowed a direct and tangible connection with his god, that Costis is allowed that glimpse in turn, and that of all mortals Gen is saved from falling by his god of thieves and told directly, “Go to bed.”)
Okay! You know who we’ve been missing? Sophos. Let’s go read about Sophos for a bit!
64 notes · View notes
szivtalan · 3 years
Note
alternatively, 7-8 for a julian ship of your choice LOL
I was initially embarrassed because I genuinely want to do Julian x MC but the bitch has my name so I settled for Asra but you know what? Fuck it. I'm doing both
7) - What annoys them the most about their partner? Would they change it if they could?
(with Isak) Me- Isak- uh, my Apprentice-sona sjdjkg is initially annoyed with Julian’s theatricality, the air of danger around them, the lack of compromise. How he’s ready to throw himself in and carry the weight of the world but swats away any and all resemblance to a helping hand, pushing everyone he loves away. He’s so fucking pissed when Julian breaks up with him, all he wants to do is slap him in the face and shake him. Julian’s mostly just annoyed with how much he feels for him, how he feels like the control is slipping away from his hands when he’s with him, like the rug he’s been standing on have been swept out from underneath him. He hates the vulnerability it brings, hates that he needs to re-evaluate everything he knows, but he does it, and they both manage to change it for each other. (And eventually, Isak learns to appreciate a little bit of cheesiness, a hint of theatricality, some exaggeration here and some drama there.)
(with Asra) Asra is pissed with Julian's issues and his lack of self-awareness towards them - or they just assume Julian is not aware. Asra, to me, seems very straightforward: something is bothering you? Talk it out. You feel bad in a situation? Do your best to change it. He's pissed that Julian seemed to play with him and was indecisive regarding their relationship, hurting himself and Asra in the meantime, and he's pissed at Julian's inability to take care of himself and stop the cycle of self-sabotage. Julian, in turn, thinks that Asra is taking himself and their relationship too seriously; is what he tells them. Actually, he just wishes Asra could see through his mask and reach him, help him break that very cycle he's struggling with. I do believe Julian cares a whole lot about Asra, but there's not much he can do to express it, since Asra is a good thing he thinks he doesn't deserve. Also, he might feel a little weird about magic and people being enthusiastic about magic. As for changing, well - if they truly wanted to change each other, they could've done it in the past, but the whole thing is that they decided to end it instead.
8) - What do the like best about their partner?
(with Isak) Julian loves how resilient Isak is. How he’s patient with him, waiting out his tantrums and his repeated episodes of self-hatred, being with him every step of the way and managing to calm him down when the guilt and the self-loathing becomes too much of a burden to bear alone. He loves that he doesn’t get scared from a little danger, that he looks at all the ugly things in Julian, his kinks and his faults and his worries and fears and he decides to love him anyway, warts and all. And Isak loves Julian’s childlike curiosity and wonder, the smile on his face when he gets excited about something new - something he still haven’t encountered before, despite his long years spent traveling, seeking adventure, experiencing things all over the world -, that despite the pain, despite the self-loathing, despite the grief, despite everything, Julian is still soft, he’s still kind, he still has love and goodness in his heart, he’s still so painfully, magically, beautifully human.
(with Asra) As much as Julian has problems with Asra and their magic, it's exactly what he's so enthralled with regarding that person. Asra oozes magic, such a naturally captivating gracefulness that Julian can't help but be drawn in by. On the other hand, Asra feels like he might fall in love with Julian's good heart. He knows how deeply he feels, how much he suffers, they feel it in his every touch, can see it in his eyes: the drive to help people and make the world a slightly better place.
16 notes · View notes
Text
Warmth: Prologue (3/3)
Fandom: Ikemen Sengoku
Disclaimers: Besides the prologues, I will be posting the first 1000 or so words of every new/next chapter.  There will be a link to my AO3 at the end of the post, where the full chapters are at!
Warnings: none
Masterlist: (coming soon)
By the time the council for you is ready, you're retrieved from your wooden cell and escorted down the unfamiliar halls of the castle. It was night time once again. You're eventually brought to a large room, a dais on the opposite side of where you enter. On the platform sat Nobunaga, armor no longer being worn and now clad in lighter, casual clothes. The guards sent to retrieve you practically shove you into the room before sliding the doors behind you and leave you for the slaughter.
Besides Nobunaga were familiar faces. Hideyoshi and Mitsuhide sat to his right and left respectively. Next to Hideyoshi, Mitsunari and a man with blond hair and green eyes that you hadn't yet met. Masamune was the lone person next to Mitsuhide. You wonder which is the judge, the jury, and the executioner. The role of executioner is quickly assigned to Mitsuhide.
"Don't just stand there," Nobunaga broke the silence. "Approach me."
You obediently walk forward until you were a respectable distance from all 6 of them before lowering yourself on the tatami. You try not to shake under their scrutinizing gaze.
As soon as you're seated, Nobunaga speaks again. "Now that you've had time to relax and reevaluate the situation, I will ask once more. Who are you, and where do you hail from?"
You're compelled to tell him that he technically knows the answer to the first part of his question. Unfortunately, being a smartass would just make things worse for you. You did reevaluate your choices during your trip to Azuchi and in your cell. You concluded that remaining silent would no longer help you, but in fact hurt you. You doubt they would believe the truth of you hailing from the future, which could potentially make things even more worse. Even if you prove the validity of your claims, you don't have enough information about the people before you to determine whether or not they would use the fact you're from the modern age to their advantage and what that advantage would entail.
You certainly weren't going to tell them you were a god. That would no doubt put you in immediate danger. The power of healing is an attractive power and so is the power over death that your rival-turned-ally just so happens to embody. In conclusion, you couldn't tell them the truth. There were too many negatives that outweighed the few positives you could think of. You couldn't tell them, but the least you can do is explain to them why you can't.
"I'm sorry. I can't tell you." Hideyoshi makes a move to protest, but you cut him off by continuing. "Not to say that I don't want to. I want to tell you all my situation, but it would be extremely dangerous for me if I do."
The blond one rolls his eyes and scoffs, "That's a rather convenient excuse."
"It is," Hideyoshi nods, eyes never once leaving your person. "This woman is clearly untrustable and a liability no doubt. We should send her away and be done with this, my Lord."
"I'm sure our Lord would gladly send her back home. The only problem is we still don't know where her home is," Mitsuhide says. "I have my doubts about her claims of being in some sort of danger, but until we can figure out where it is we should send her, we're unfortunately at a bit of a deadlock."
Hideyoshi looks like he wants to disagree with Mitsuhide, but he reluctantly agrees with everything he said.
Nobunaga speaks your name and you sit up straighter. "Whatever threat is keeping you from speaking, you may consider yourself in safe hands. Tell us the names of those who wish to harm and you have my word that they will be dealt with."
It was relieving to hear that if some sort of third party was threatening you, they would keep you safe and even get rid of the threat. Such an offer was unfortunately unfulfillable. They were threats too.
you shake your head. "You don't understand. If I tell you my truth, there's a chance you all might turn against me. That you might string me up like a puppet and pull my strings until my limbs tear apart. You can sit there and promise me of never doing such a thing. However, the fact that chance exists is enough to make me bite my tongue."
You were on the verge of tears. Never in your life did you hate being a god as much as you do now. No matter how many lives you save, you will always be under threat by the very beings you heal. Maybe Kuro was right in wanting to mark mortals for death. Maybe you were in the wrong this whole time by wanting to reverse their ailments and give humans a second chance at life. For gods' sake, you had to spend 50 years on your lonesome just to restart your life among society, time after time because you felt, and still feel, like you cannot trust anyone with your secret.
You were never trying to play at being a god. Truly, you were trying to play at being human. You will never be one no matter how well you got along with humanity. You felt cold. Cold, alone, and scared of the mortals that sat before you and looked down on you as if you were the biggest inconvenience to them.
Perhaps I was nothing but a burden to my-
As if sensing the downward direction of your thoughts, Kuro does the only thing he knows will grab your attention. He bites you, the hardest he ever has. The pain was so excruciating that you had to grab hold of him by his jaw and throw him off of you.
Mitsunari is the first to break, swiftly making his way towards you despite Hideyoshi's protests. He pulls you back towards him and holds you steady. "Are you alright?" he asks you, concern engulfing his purple eyes.
At this point, a few tears had been shed and your voice was warped from the rising sadness within your throat. "Y-Yeah. His biting stopped my thoughts from spiraling."
You give a thankful nod to Kuro. He nods in return as thanks for you continuing to cover for him.
You turn back towards them, "If..If you want to get rid of me I can leave without making a fuss. I can get by just fine on my own."
No one agrees with or protests your offer. The sight of you, clearly distressed and out of your element, makes them all feel somewhat shameful for treating you as if you were some dangerous criminal up until now. You clearly meant no harm. You didn't even want to burden them with your presence. You were scared and on your own against a group of men you didn't even know.
Nobunaga calls your name once more, This time with much more gentleness than the times before. "I see now that, despite how young you are, you've been through your fair share of ordeals. You clearly cannot muster within yourself the ability to trust anyone due to circumstances. Henceforth, I will allow for you to reside in this castle in exchange for your services to me, until you feel you are ready to come forth and divulge in us the names of those who seek to do you harm."
The tension in the room begins to dissipate. You all but fall to your still scraped knees with relief. This is perfect. You would be granted sanctuary and still maintain a veil of secrecy, within reason no doubt. The others clearly have their reservations over the arrangements, but seeing you no longer on edge lightens the atmosphere significantly. Kuro, no longer presented with a reason to continue lunging at the others, relaxes his tightly wound body for the first time since coming here.
You stretch your palm out towards your companion and he crawls on you without protest, situating himself around your neck once again. Strangely enough, you've grown used to having him in your person in the past day. Now that you two have an alliance of sorts you feel a bit more trusting of him. Maybe this time traveling ordeal will result in you two coming to some sort of understanding with one another. It would honestly do you both good if you worked together than fight all the time.
"I have yet to hear your answer. Will you accept my offer?" Nobunaga asks.
You vigorously nod. "Yes! It's a definite yes. I'll gladly offer whatever services I can give in exchange for lodgings."
He smiles at your enthusiasm. "In that case, I assign you as my chatelaine."
Chatelaine. That's a caretaker of a large house. Sounds like a simple enough job.
"That is an excellent idea," Mitsunari congratulates you. "I will provide you with all the support you need!"
"I'll be counting on you," you tell him.
As you all begin to discuss further details of your arrangement, an uninvited guest sighs in relief at the turn of events from the ceiling.
________________________________________________________________
Once the meeting concludes, you're escorted by Mitsunari to what will be your new room. You didn't expect it to be so large, beautifully furnished too. You would have been fine if they gave you a wooden box for all you care, but that would likely be a dead giveaway. You're painfully reminded of the fact that you won't be living alone anymore or with some distance from other mortals.
You'll have to put in extra effort in order to blend in. That would mean you would have to start eating and sleeping again. You haven't eaten or slept in nearly 300 years. You don't even remember the difference between sweetness and spiciness or what your favorite dishes were.
"Are you alright? You've been frowning this entire time," Mitsunari, ever the angel, looks at you with concern.
"Sorry! I'm still in disbelief. I honestly thought the night would end with me being thrown out onto the streets," you sheepishly say.
"Our lord would have never treated you so harshly, even if he chose to send you away. He can be intimidating at times, I admit. Underneath his tough exterior he is a very generous, but fair, lord."
You find it hard to believe, but the switch in his demeanor from earlier is sufficient evidence to prove the truth in Mitsunari's words. He seems to be the top dog around here. If he was able to exercise leniency to you despite your mysterious origins then you can surely get by alright. You would just have to meet in the middle and become a positive addition to the people here. You've had decades of practice on blending in. You can do this!
"Hey, can I ask you something real quick?"
Mitsunari halts his search for your futon and turns to you. "Anything at all!"
"As chatelaine, what am I expected to do?"
Mitsunari thinks for a moment. "We haven't had a chatelaine before, so I unfortunately can't provide any sound examples. Most likely, you will care for the needs of the castle and residents here as the maids would."
That sounds doable. "Could you introduce me to the maids tomorrow then?"
"I would be honored to! I do have my own duties to attend to though. Hideyoshi is close with most of them, so if I'm unable to retrieve you myself I'll send him in my stead."
Hideyoshi. He's Nobunaga's right hand. He's the one Kuro lunged towards back at the camp. Despite Nobunaga giving his permission for you to stay, he clearly had his own opinions. Understandable, really. You'll have to remind yourself that any harshness towards you from him will be within reason. Hopefully he can learn to tolerate you, and you of him.
"It is late. I will leave for tonight and allow you to rest. It is an honor to have you with us. Sleep well."
Mitsunari gives you one last smile before he exits your room and you're finally left to your own devices. Before you can fall back into the plushness of your futon, you hear a shuffling above you within the ceiling.
"Don't be alarmed," a voice calls out to you. "I'm going to jump down from the ceiling. Is that alright?"
You can't pinpoint the exact source of the voice. Normally, you should be alarmed. Yet even when its muffled, that voice sounds very familiar. You look down to Kuro and he nods. If anything goes wrong, he'll handle it.
"You may," you try to keep your voice down to not draw attention but to also allow for whoever was in the ceiling to hear you.
One of the wooden panels is quietly moved from its place. A person, another man, jumps down and lands in complete silence. Impressive.
"Sorry for the intrusion. Before I begin to explain my reason for visiting at such a late hour, may I ask if you remember me?"
He lowers his mask to reveal his face in full. You do remember him. It was the same man you encountered at the monument. He wasn't wearing his lab coat anymore. His clothing was more in style to the garments everyone else wore. His attire looks as though it allows for better mobility. "I do. From the looks of it, you seem to be better adjusted. Did you perhaps arrive earlier than I did?"
He's shocked that you've deduced the situation so quickly. You were calm as well. He took this as a good sign.
"You're spot on. My name is Sasuke Sarutobi, post-graduate astrophysicist-turned-ninja."
After you introduce yourself to Sasuke. He wastes no time in explaining the circumstances of your apparent time travel. It was hard to grasp even his simplified version, but you were able to figure out that a phenomenon (the storm) is what sent you two back in time. He explained his arrival was 4 years prior to yours and that he's been on the lookout for you while still fulfilling his duties to his employer and adjusting to life here. "I apologize for dragging you into this-"
You cut off his apology with the lift of your hand. "I was at the wrong place at the wrong time. I'm sure you'll argue that, even then, there was a chance I could have ended in more dangerous situation. I didn't and that's all there is to it. You have my gratitude for worrying about my well-being for so long."
You bow to him and he accepts your thanks with a bow of his own. Before he can right himself up, he takes notice of Kuro.
Please don't freak out!
"Is that...a snake?"
You nod. "He's my...he's a friend. He won't bite if you leave him be."
"I see. I will keep that in mind. What's his name?"
"Kuro. Unoriginal, I know."
He laughs at your admittance of poor naming skills. You give Kuro a pat on the head. He seems annoyed at your touch but doesn't try to shake you off or hiss at you. You view it as a start towards a better relationship between you two.
"I have one more thing to say. Since this time period was, or rather is, ravaged with war, it's best you remain here until the next wormhole reopens in three months."
"We'll be able to return to our time then, right?"
"Yes. I've estimated the time of its appearance, but not its location. I'll try to have that information as soon as possible. Is that alright?"
"Take all the time you need. I wish you the best until then."
He smiles, "I'll be sure to stop by every now and then to check on you. Until we meet again."
He jumps up with ease and back into the ceiling. The panel is placed back in it's spot and the room is quiet once again. Finally, you're alone for real this time. You're surprised how worn out you feel for once. Deciding now would be a better time than ever to get back into the rhythm of sleep, you crawl under the covers of your already made bed. Kuro follows suit, coiling into himself on top of you.
"It's pretty chilly. Here," you get up, "I'll lend you my sweater."
Mitsunari went out of his way to keep watch over your bag. You make a note to find a way to repay his kindness before you leave in 3 months. You unzip your bag and pull out your wool cardigan, slightly creased from being folded for so long. Hopefully this will do as a bed for Kuro for a while. You make yet another note to make Kuro some sort of proper bed when you get the chance.
Even if work turns out to be boring here, I have a bunch of personal obligations to keep myself busy for a while.
Kuro finds his spot within the sleeve of your cardigan. You giggle a bit, seeing the long bump he made from underneath the fabric. You blow out the light from your lantern and situate yourself back under the covers. You close your eyes and relax each part of your body one at a time. Starting with your toes and ending at the tip of your nose.
You fall asleep within the familiar black nothingness, feeling warm once again.
________________________________________________________________
Previous chapter
Finished the prologue and want to read more? Click here!
8 notes · View notes
Text
ᾰ̓γᾰ́πη - Pt. II
Tumblr media
Pairing(s): Cursed!Seokjin x Reader
Genre(s): Fantasy Au, Fluff, Soulmate Au
Summary: “There’s a story whispered around here. One surrounding the beautifully carved statue of a man at the center of the town. Legend says that when the hand of his true love graces his palm, he shall wake from his cursed marbled slumber. It’s always been a silly old wives tale, until you give in to a friend’s dare.” (prompt idea from writing-prompt-s)
Warning(s): mild language
Word Count: 2.8k
Part I, Part 2, Part 3, ...
taglist: @best-space-boy​ @maryelixabeth @mochimaw​ @yeontanismypresident​ @hannahantonette17​ @ign-is​ @fanfuckingfic​ @koala-wonderland​ @suchgayaesthetic​ @dulcaet​
~ if you want to be added to the tag list for this fic, feel free to send me an ask! thank you💜
For the record, you’d never once been so thoroughly stupefied by anything the entirety of your existence. Not that much has ever happened before this...debacle, but still.
Lying on the ground, however, draped with a recently statue-turned-man as the faces of every person who’d openly mocked your beliefs sit painted with the same concoction of horrified wonder, it was safe to say, this was definitely a first.
It was like your mind was awake while your body lay paralyzed. Thought after thought, albeit incoherent, made rounds throughout your consciousness. Limbs splayed across the dirt, useless, like those of a rag doll.
Perhaps part of the initial stun could be blamed by the impact with which the body crashed into yours, as well as the force of hitting the ground.
Maybe, in your likely now-concussed state, you were not actually under a man who a mere moment ago was marble. It’s believable that this was all just some brain-trauma induced hallucination. You probably just tripped on your way to the statue and hit your head. Really, really hard.
That scenario could have very much been the one you decided to go with, that is, until the man started to lift himself up, just enough to look down at you.
Even if you didn’t want to lock eyes with the, admittedly, incredibly handsome man you found yourself in such a precarious situation with, it wasn’t like you had any other choice.
Space only big enough for a single breathe lay between you.
His eyes, a lovely dark, warm brown shade that gave you such an odd sense of security, studied your own.
This close, every detail of his face was on HD display for you, from the length of his lashes, the slope of his nose, to the curve and plushness of his lips. Horrifyingly enough for you, that meant every one of your flaws must be painfully on display for him as well. Look at you now, suddenly worried about how you looked to a once-inanimate object.
It was an oddly intimate moment, one that you weren’t quite sure you wanted to end before it had begun, or to continue forever, until the sun set and the stars shone and everything in-between. The way your head swam, thoughts torn between two opposing sides, a regular Capulet-Montague affair within, it was like losing sense of yourself.
There was no way this was really happening; that this man has come to life at your hand. However, you couldn’t deny the tangible evidence that is the vessel hovering over you now. Oh yeah, there’s a strange man on top of you...and everyone is watching.
Like a cadaver reanimated by a bolt of lightning, you shot away from the man, pushing yourself back on your butt and scooching like a child until you were satisfied with the distance between. Skin painfully alight with the burn of embarrassment, you didn’t dare look back into the eyes of your ‘soulmate’ just yet.
‘Soulmate,’ it’s like that very word incited an allergic reaction in which your body suddenly had the urge to convulse until whatever contents remained in your stomach were one with the earth.
Trying merely to catch your breathe, you almost didn’t register the warmth of a hand pressing firmly to your back.
“I, um, think we should take this somewhere more...private, perhaps?”
That voice, the slightly monotone, yet strangely comforting voice of the girl you both tolerated and treasured. The only one that treated you as an equal; an actual human being.
“Mira...” It sounded choked, weak, like saying her name was a laboring task you weren’t sure you could handle. Turning back to look at her, you could tell how horrified you must have looked based on her own expression.
If anyone knew what to do in this insane situation, it’d be her.
Rising to her feet, Mira took in the way your body curled in on itself, to shield you from the alarming situation of which you had no control over and no clue how to precede. It stung at a piece of her that had been buried deep down inside for a long time.
Strange, was all she could pen it as, but you are her companion here, and it was her duty to aid you in this, especially considering the circumstances.
———
The walk home was quiet. One on the outside might almost call it peaceful, tranquil, but it was none of the above.
After suggesting to take this to her home, Mira helped you and the stranger to your feet and broke up the little side-show that had gathered. The townspeople were a mixture of curious, horrified, and smug; seeing the girl they taunted get stuck in this situation was irony at its finest.
While there were plenty of broken hearts staggering their way back to their homes with heavy souls, no one could deny that this was fate, and whether they agreed with the outcome or not, it was not their place to question.
Many, however, did get a good laugh in when you had paced frantically around the circle created around you, practically begging people to take the man instead. It was pathetic, sad, pitiful, and it left all with a disturbing sense of pride.
‘Serves her right,’ they all thought, only speaking it aloud once they were sheltered within their own walls.
They weren’t wrong though, you did look and feel wholly pathetic. On the verge of tears, begging people you loathed to help you, and right in front of the poor, confused man who was at no more fault than you. It wasn’t your best moment.
Thus, the journey to Mira’s was awkward if anything. You strode a few paces ahead, mind foggy and emotions scattered like confetti. Mira made a comfortable wall between you and the man, who brought up the rear, taking in his surroundings with curiosity and a weird sense of familiarity.
Nobody dared say anything, not that there was much to talk about at the moment. Tensions were running high, and a calm, quiet, middle ground was needed before any successful conversations were to be had.
You couldn’t help the slight tears pricking at your lash line, threatening to spill over any second. It made you feel dumb, crying over something as if you were a child who didn’t get their way.
But the thought of spending the rest of your life otherworldly attached to a person you’ve never met before was terrifying. It has always been you on your own. You have enough struggles as it is. Oh, how mother will get a kick out of this.
Your mind wondered if she would even understand what was going on. She’d been in the home on the east side for a few years now, after the dementia got to be too much for you to deal with alone. She’s doing better there anyways, and it wasn’t like you weren’t unaccustomed to going it solo anyways.
Your head slowly swiveled back to catch a quick glimpse of the man behind you. He was swinging his head side to side, back and forth, taking in everything like a puppy. His clothes, now that you were looking, were very outdated, things you’d never seen before except in history books or century dramas on Netflix. He didn’t look real. Another irony, you guess.
Before you could turn back and focus on the road ahead of you, his eyes shot down to catch yours. He didn’t seem scared, upset, or even worried. In fact, he looked almost sympathetic. It probably had to do with the terrified expression you had a hard time fighting every time he caught your gaze. The heat crept up your neck quickly and you shot your head forward to get away from his stare.
Before you knew it, you were standing shoulder to shoulder with the man as Mira unlocked and swung her front door open. The porch creaked under your weight as you shifted to gain some space, the nervousness making you antsy and unable to stand still. He didn’t seem to notice you move away from him, but you weren’t about to look at him and check.
Once inside, you placed yourself in one of the large wicker dining chairs you occupied often during long debates with Mira over the years. Her house was quaint and quite charming. A decent size, especially for her living alone, and giving off a rustic, bohemian air that made it feel homey to even the most distant of strangers.
Speaking of strangers, it was an odd sight to say the least, watching the tall man cross the room stiffly, dropping down onto the velvet couch with a sigh. The humanness he possessed after being rock only a few hours ago was unsettling. You don’t know what you expected him to act like, but then again, any expectations were out the window and 100 miles downwind by now.
Considering how off-put you are by the whole thing, it both amazed and scared you how easy it was for your gaze to linger over him. What it was that pulled you to him, you couldn’t put your finger on- no, you didn’t want to put your finger on in fear of the implications. The longer you were in his presence, though, the more curious you became. And we all know how curiosity plays out, just ask the cat.
Again, as if you both really were connected in some fantastical way, his eyes instantly found yours. This time, however, the nervous heat that usually accompanied it vanished. Instead, locking eyes almost brought an innate sense of peace within you; comfort.
“So, would either of you like some tea?” Mira’s way of easing the awkward air quickly broke the two of you from...whatever that was, and it immediately threw you back on edge. Grabbing the edge of the chair till your knuckles paled, your voice took on a defensive tone.
“ I’d like to know what the hell is going on.” Laced with a sharp venom you weren’t even aware you were capable of, the statement immediately caught all attentions, air increasing in its thickness instead of dissipating like Mira had hoped.
You couldn’t bring yourself to look back at the man, so instead you focused all of your negative energy, unfairly, on Mira. Her face twisted into an uncomfortable grimace as she thought of the best way to talk you down from your growing agitation, but before she could speak, a light chuckle wafted through the tiny room.
That snapped both of your heads towards Mr. post-statue.
Even with both of your uncomfortable gazes, he didn’t seem affected. It wasn’t like he couldn’t read the room, or understand the gravity of the situation. It was more like he had this innate sense of optimism; that everything was going to work out and he just didn’t see the point in getting so serious.
“I think it’s pretty obvious what’s going on.” You wouldn’t say you were surprised by the soft, honey-tone of his voice, or that you were entranced by it, but if you were to deny, you’d be utterly lying to yourself.
Maybe there was more to this soulmate thing than just waking him up and living ‘happily ever after’. Was it possible there were physical and psychological changes that came along with it? It doesn’t seem too far fetched considering the events that have taken place today. At this point, anything could happen and you wouldn’t be any more surprised. Maybe it’s the shock talking.
“What?” Once you said it, you want to take it back. God, could you sound any dumber? The first thing you say directly to him, and it’s an idiotic reiteration that makes you sound like you can’t infer from context clues and common-freaking-sense what he means.
A quick urge to bury yourself somewhere far away from here shoots through your being, but it’s not a look of disdain that you are met with, but a sweet, soft, smile. It’s not that he seems to pity you in any way, but that somehow knows exactly what you’re feeling without you having to say it. Although, now that you’ve realized it, that small sense of fright wiggles in the back of your mind. A stranger should not be able to read you as easily as he is.
“If I’m awake, it means the spell is broken.”
You stare at him as his face lights up, as if remembering something wonderful; a long lost memory just now recalled.
Suddenly, he bolts up, coming straight for you. Despite your heart protesting, your body starts, pushing yourself as far against the chair and curling tight to protect yourself. As you flinch, your eyes shut and you suck a quick breath in. Like being charged by a fearsome beast, you react in such a way that you don’t even have to open your eyes to know the affect.
The footsteps stop instantly, and when you do open your eyes, you see the man frozen in place, face paled and arms limp at his sides. He was only a few feet away, but even when he shortened the distance between you, he suddenly felt further away now than before.
The guilt of reacting in such a way was a feeling you weren’t accustomed to, and you couldn’t lie that you felt worse after seeing the pained expression on his face.
He slowly backed his way back to the couch, lowering down onto it while avoiding your gaze. Strange how quickly it went from you avoiding his, to him avoiding yours.
“I’m sorry...I know...I know how scary this must be, and I shouldn’t have gotten so excited,” he started, voice low and cautious, like he was afraid to scare you again. Seeing the hurt in his eyes and hearing the strain in his voice affected you more than it should.
Carefully, your body returned to its original position, unfurling to show him that you weren’t afraid of him. You don’t know why it was suddenly so important for you to assure him but it was a natural reaction you didn’t think twice about.
Brown eyes once again catching your own, you tried your best to give him an apathetic smile, something to rid his beautiful features of that sorrow you inadvertently caused. When his eyes shone with a newly-gained light as the corner of his mouth upturned the slightest bit to return your gesture, you knew that no matter the insanity of this situation, you’d probably do just about anything to keep that smile on his face.
“I just never thought this would happen.” A slight pink hue rises to the apples of his cheeks and it takes a strong part of you to hold yourself together and not swoon at how adorable he looked.
“That what would happen?” Mira speaks up and reminds you that you are, in fact, not alone and you recompose yourself.
The man clears his throat and despite the increasing blush on his cheeks, he manages to look from Mira back to you, bringing his hand up to scratch the back of his neck.
“That my soulmate would find me.” This time it’s you whose blushing, the heat creeping up and spreading to every part of your body. The implications of being a soulmate, let alone to someone you don’t know, made the uneasiness resurface. Even though you felt a growing warmth for this random man, you weren’t about to throw your inhibitions out the window all for the sake of being ‘soulmates.’
As cliché-fairy-tale-garbage as this whole thing seems, you weren’t some dim-witted damsel who’d fall for a man she just met.
“Maybe you should start with introductions, stave off the soulmate thing for a moment.” Mira sends you an understanding smile, knowing that you’d lack the frame of mind to conduct this conversation without her assistance.
A breath you hadn’t known you’d been holding escapes your lips in a relieved sigh. Turning back to the man, you muster up enough courage to rise from your seat, cross the wooden floor, and stop before him. Shaking slightly, your right hand reaches out to rest midair in front of him, fingers open and waiting.
“I’m Y/N.”
He looks at your fingers, then up at you, then fingers again. Slowly, his hand approaches yours, gliding softly against the pads of your fingertips before lightly grasping your hand in his. Before you can signal your arm to start a shaking motion, he brings your hand towards him and delicately places a soft kiss to the skin of your knuckles. You can feel his lips curl into a smile against your skin, and suddenly it feels like the Sahara desert in the sweltering summer months.
“My name is Seokjin. It’s nice to finally meet you, Y/N.”
Tumblr media
To Be Continued...
_________________________________________________________________
A.N., 
 This part is more-so an establishing piece. I know not much goes on plot-wise, but I needed to develop the dynamic before any of the juicy bits can happen. I hope you all understand and like this newest edition to the story. I originally planned this to be a 3 part series, but there will definitely be more than 3 parts, oops. I hope you all stick around for the ride, and thank you for all the love and support!💜
-Moonie🌙
113 notes · View notes
starwarsnonsense · 5 years
Text
Best Films of 2019 (So Far)
It’s that time of year again! As most of my followers probably know, I’m an avid cinema-goer beyond Star Wars. I also quite enjoy making lists, so what’s better than a combo of the two? Below, I run down my top 10 films of 2019 so far - please note that this list is based on UK cinema release dates, so some of these films were 2018 releases elsewhere.
What are your favourites so far from this year? Let me know in replies/asks!
Honourable mentions: Toy Story 4, Long Shot, Aladdin, Alita: Battle Angel & The Kid Who Would Be King
1. The Favourite, dir. Yorgos Lanthimos
Tumblr media
This completely wowed me - it features a trio of magnificently compelling female characters (played by Olivia Colman, Rachel Weisz and Emma Stone) operating at the court of Queen Anne (Colman is Anne, Weisz and Stone are courtiers), and is focused solely on the shifting sands of the power dynamics between them. The script is savage without sacrificing poignancy, witty without ceasing to be genuine. And while I’ve seen some react to this film as a comedy (and it certainly has laughs, most of which are closely tied to shock), for me it was very clearly a drama about the inscrutable and complicated relationships that exist between women. Specifically, it is about how those relationships run the gamut from sincere affinity to ruthless manipulation. This is an amazing movie, and it also has the best use of an Elton John song in 2019 (sorry, Rocketman!).
2. Midsommar, dir. Ari Aster
Tumblr media
I went into this film with reservations, since I wasn’t a huge fan of Hereditary (by the same director), which I found to have extraordinary moments but iffy execution overall. This movie, however, wowed me, and I am still uncertain as to whether this or The Favourite is my top film of 2019 so far (fortunately, this gives me a good excuse to watch Midsommar three or four times in cinemas). While marketed as a freaky cult horror film, the director has described it as a fairy tale, which is the level on which is spoke to me. Midsommar follows Dani (an incredible Florence Pugh), a young woman who has suffered a terrible loss, as she travels with her boyfriend and his friends to a pagan festival in the Swedish countryside. Dani is painfully isolated, and her grief is hers to shoulder alone since her boyfriend is un-receptive and distinctly unprepared to help her. Over the course of the film, destruction and creation are conflated in ways that are frequently beautiful and horrific at the same time - this film spoke to me on a profound level, and the way it ended gave me a sense of incredible catharsis. This won’t be for everyone, for I found it to be a deeply special film and I can’t recommend it enough.
3. One Cut of the Dead, dir.  Shinichirou Ueda
Tumblr media
While I went into The Favourite with high expectations given the talent involved, I went into this with no expectations whatsoever - and what a treat it was! One Cut of the Dead is easily one of the funniest movies I’ve seen in ears, taking what initially seems like a trite concept (a crew is filming a zombie movie at a desolate location ... only to discover that the zombies are real!) and twisting it in a truly ingenious way. The comedy is often of the broad variety, but it is consistently delightful and always manages to avoid becoming crass - the movie even has some really sweet family dynamics at the centre of it, which gives it some real emotional heft. The success of this film is heavily reliant on a major twist that occurs part-way through, so the best advice I can give you is to stay as far away from spoilers for this one as possible - go in blind, and you will be amply rewarded for your faith.
4. The Farewell, dir. Lulu Wang
Tumblr media
I saw this following a wave of festival hype, so while I was excited I was also a bit apprehensive (since I have been burned by the aforementioned festival hype before). Thankfully, my doubts were blown away as this turned out to be just as wonderful as the early reviews had suggested. It’s a personal story about a young Asian-American woman (Awkwafina) struggling to reconcile her heritage with her current situation and values - specifically, she is tested when her grandmother is diagnosed with terminal cancer and the wider family make the decision to hide the truth from her. The Farewell does a fantastic job of generating empathy for all the different perspectives and positions in play, but it’s truly anchored by Awkwafina’s amazingly nuanced and tender performance - basically, anyone who’s ever loved a grandparent should leave this feeling incredibly moved and inspired. The themes of The Farewell are both specific to the Asian-American experience and general to anyone who has struggled with maintaining bonds over a vast distance, whether physical or cultural.           
5. Booksmart, dir. Olivia Wilde
Tumblr media
God, how I wish I’d had this movie as a teenager! While Booksmart has a cliched premise - two high-achieving teens decide to have one wild night before graduation - it tells the story in an incredibly charming and impressively creative way (I won’t spoil it, but let me just say this - that scene with the Barbies!). As someone who was an awkward nerd with no discernible social life in high school (as you Americans call it), I found this portrayal of that peculiar limbo period very sensitive and thoughtful - it doesn’t mock or shame its heroines for being studious, and it allows them to have limits and step back from situations that make them uncomfortable. It also serves as a beautifully honest portrait of a friendship, depicting the qualities that bring people together in friendship together in the first place, as well as the forces that can break people apart. This is a very accomplished debut from Wilde, and it makes me very excited to see where she goes next as a director.
6. A Private War, dir. Matthew Heineman
Tumblr media
This was a very suspenseful and tightly focused film about an extraordinary woman, and the film soars on the strength of Rosamund Pike’s incredible performance as Marie Colvin. She provides piercing insights into the psyche of a person so driven to pursue truth and enact change that she loses all concern for her own wellbeing - it’s simultaneously a portrait of heroism and obsession, and it’s impressive for how it handles the ambiguity inherent in Colvin’s choices. She’s exceptionally brave, but the film is unflinching in depicting the costs of her bravery. It left me feeling inspired to learn more about Colvin’s life and work, and I still need to watch the documentary Under the Wire to get more insight into the real story behind the film.
7. Fighting With My Family, dir. Stephen Merchant
Tumblr media
This is the year of Florence Pugh - she killed it in Midsommar, and she is just as fantastic here. If anything, Fighting With My Family and Midsommar make great complements as they serve as fantastic showcases for Pugh’s range as an actor. While her character in Midsommar is fragile and vulnerable, Fighting With My Family is a platform for her strength and comedic skill. As Paige, Pugh is instantly likable and compelling - I don’t give a damn about any form of wrestling, but this film (and Pugh specifically) did a fantastic job of drawing me in and making me root for Paige’s struggle to prove herself as a legitimate force in wrestling. This is a real underdog story, and Pugh did a wonderful job as the Cinderella of the WWE.
8. Apollo 11, dir. Todd Douglas Miller
Tumblr media
My dad has always been crazy about the space program, but I hadn’t picked up the bug myself. That changed after I watched this extraordinary documentary, which brought the Apollo 11 mission to vivid life. The footage that’s used for this documentary is extraordinarily crisp, and some moments are vividly powerful - the crew getting into their spacesuits, the swirl of fire surrounding the moment of takeoff, and the journey of the spacecraft towards the moon. It left me feeling moved and touched by human potential, especially when you remember that this all happened 50 years ago when the available technologies were so fragile and primitive. I also loved how the footage was allowed to speak for itself, with no voiceover or exposition - it’s a must-see for anyone who’s ever looked up at the stars and wondered about reaching them.
9. High Life, dir. Claire Denis
Tumblr media
This movie is second to only Midsommar in terms of how weird it is. I saw this in a Hungarian cinema while on holiday, which made for a disorientating experience in itself. While the meaning of the film is quite elusive and I’m sure that many people will find viewing it a uniquely frustrating experience, I appreciated how it created a hothouse environment that brought out some of the ugliest aspects of humanity. Robert Pattinson was great as what comes closest to amounting to our protagonist, though he is as inscrutable and inaccessible as the film itself. I can’t quite pin down why I liked this one so much, but I know I did and it made me want to seek out more of Claire Denis’ work. 
10. Free Solo, dir. Jimmy Chin & Elizabeth Chai Vasarhelyi
Tumblr media
It’s tragic that most people will only watch this documentary on a TV screen (or, so much worse, a laptop!). I was fortunate enough to see it in its full IMAX glory, and it’s rare to see any film - let alone a documentary - take such full advantage of the format. The woozy spectacle of this film is the real star, though the subject - mountain climber Alex Honnold - is also fascinating with his unnerving detachment from the magnitude of what he is setting out on. It is clearly a necessary detachment for him to be able to achieve what he achieves, but I appreciated how the filmmakers questioned it and explored its impact on his girlfriend. This is a compelling documentary, and is worth watching even if you’re not usually a fan of the genre.
2K notes · View notes
ziracona · 3 years
Note
I like the intro line about Frank from the Darkness Among Us page even more than the in game lore: "Frank’s future was as bleak as his childhood was miserable."
Yes!!!! That one too ahh! An anon after my own heart. “Frank's future was as bleak as his childhood was miserable. He was nineteen and had little to show for it.”
God, Darkness Among Us is I think my favorite chapter. It was so well made!! AH! The parallel between Frank and Jeff, both grown from bad home lives and rough times, crossing orbits briefly in high school, where in the end, Frank chose violence and Jeff chose art. The progression for Jeff as an adult, into the person with the kind of future Frank could have gone to too, the kind and incredible man he becomes despite his hard past and bad family, and all the happiness he reaches even after nearly losing and eye and having only his pup for family? Like, they were similar in highschool, Frank and Jeff. Similar enough Frank paid him /50/ bucks in the 1990s for the LEGION words mural in Ormond, when he wasn’t even trying to sell art, because Frank just had a sense of decency and value for Jeff/artist/peer work. They would have chatted at the video store, been casual friends. Been the kind of people who understood each other even without really knowing the other. But Frank ends up choosing throwing hands with the whole world instead of forging through his shit, and that violence is what gets him. It’s his choice to escalate to see how far he can go, for fun, that ends up turning into an accidental death and things he can’t come back from, and gets him and the only people who care about him kidnapped to kill for the Entity. And then, ironically, it’s Jeff’s kindness that kills him. It’s his choice to honor his flawed but still loved father when he passes, to walk to Ormond Lodge to drink a beer with the past, that gets him. So in the end, their chosen paths both take them, and it’s inescapable and harsh and indiscriminate, and both are tragedies, but the point is that when Frank goes, it is rumors he either killed a man and his friends, or got them to do it with him that go on to fade to nothing that he leaves behind him and nothing he brings with, and when Jeff goes, his legacy is art in a gallery and a sweet rescue dog running away from home to try to chase down the scent of the man she can’t understand why has not come back, and it’s the same kindness he gave her and support and caring and faith in people and life he brings with him. Jeff goes to be a survivor, with perks about helping people, and Frank goes to be a killer, with perks built around bullying and petty violence. And they’re both tragedies, they’re both harsh and unforgiving and unfair. Because you can’t control what happens to you. But the point is that in spite of that, in spite of even the fact killer in many ways would be less awful to be than realm survivor, tragic fate or not, you pick being good not for a reward or happily ever after, but for yourself and the people around you, and Jeff is the one with no regrets and people who love him in-realm too, and and Frank is the one with regrets and nothing but the violence that dragged him down. And it’s got this whole super beautifully done parallel between the two that’s so understated it’s not even directly said Jeff is the one hired by Frank in Frank’s section, or that Frank is the one who hired Jeff in Jeff’s. It’s left to be put together by the reader. And Jeff’s starting point actually sounds more likely to become a killer than Frank’s. Frank is introduced as having a bad past, yet still able to light up a room in spite of it. Jeff is introduced as so alone and anxious that he uses his height and size to seem intimidating and scary so people will leave him alone.
But it’s about choice and humanity and it’s so understated and sweet and well done AHHH, GOD. I loved Darkness Among Us! Jeff and Frank are even the two who both loved Heavy Metal. That chapter is painfully well done it hate it!!!! (Read: like so much it makes me mad). I think it’s a big part of what makes any Jeff-tries-to-save-Legion-kids narrative have such potential. He knew them. And not only that, he almost was them. Jeff never did things like them, but his life got bleak and dangerous too—he almost lost an eye in a fight, and had to seriously re-think his life and choices, and he did, and turned it around into something wonderful, and did it a lot later than kids are raised to believe they need good lives by. And I think that would make him so not just hopeful but sure, that there was hope for them too. Because he doesn’t just think you can turn a life around, he’s done it. God, there’s so much potential it’s all so sweet, why was Darkness Among Us OG lore so GOOD.
14 notes · View notes
ifandomalot · 4 years
Text
This is Love. (1/3)
Tumblr media
Summary: Steve is captured by hydra, they use you as a toy for him. A sick game they play. He can't help but notice how much you hate touch, or any kind of human interaction. When his team rescues him, he takes you with him and shows you what love is.
Warnings: unexpected pregnancy eventuality, kidnapping, blood, and unwanted sex by both parties? But it doesn't go to much into detail. But i dont know how to categorize it. This is dark but soft. Also my grammar mistakes.
Part 2 / Part 3 (coming soon)
Steve doesn't remember much, the aching pain against the roundest part of his skull was the only thought manageable. Shaky fingers running over the clumps of blood that matted his hair, stables fusing the gash closed. His eyes take in the room around him, no windows, the only light is small lamp that illuminates the small corner of the room by the bed he currently say up on. The walls are a dull gray, the floor matching, the cement seemed as it ran for miles. A door is on the far right, heavy duty, not even a super solider could break it down.
His tact suit is gone, a plain white t-shirt and a pair of grey sweat pants clad his body, no shoes just a tall pair of socks that bundle against ankles. The throbbing inside his skull seems like the worst of his worries as his eyes scan the room, no way out. The small camera in the corner follows his every move. "Whoever you are, you've made a mistake."
Thick arms across against his swollen chest in dominace, trying to assert some kind of fear into the situation. It's no use, no one is there or obviously cares enough to call a bluff. A small stack of books are next to the sink, fingers run down the ridged brindle of the book, noticing the german writing. Hydra.
Steve's face moves in frustration, body growing taller as he realizes the situation, hydra had finally managed to do it, they got him. A small growl rumbles deep inside the roughness of his chest, fist meeting the cement wall in anger, the blood didn't bother him, the pain non existent. He steps over the crumbled pieces of the wall before looking right into the camera. "If you think I'll stay here peacefully, you're mistaken. I will punch my way out of here."
His feet start towards the carving he made in the wall but peeks his head towards the door listening to the gliding of locks. He stands tall, expecting someone to send in some poor bastard that was meant to tell him to behave but would only meet death in the hands of him.
Much to his surprise, a female thrown into the room, falling next to his feet. Adrenline was too high, he couldn't think straight. His body telling him this was a trick but mind realizing how similarly dressed they were.She was here as a prisoner too.
"Are you okay?" Steve's voice is rough, making you flinch but scatter away from him as his hands reached out to help you up.
An unsettling feeling is ripped deep inside his stomach, bubbling red hot as he notices the darkness behind your eyes. Nothing was there, a shell of a human. "I'm not going to hurt you."
Avoiding eye contact at all cost, you pull your knees to your chest, head resting against the hard shell of knees. What did they do to this girl?
Steve's eyes run over the soft features, skin with no wrinkles, big doe eyes avoiding him. Cheeks so lively, warm with color and lips that just resembled youth. Hair was beautifully knotless, curtaining past your shoulders, small shoulders that formed into the valley of your breast, no older than 23.
He decides to keep his distance, but drops to his knees to size you. Hoping that with being eye level would make himself look less scary, dominating even. "What's your name?"
When she doesnt answer he sighs, "I'm Steve."
Before he gets a chance to speak again, a loud crackling echos the room, source the camera. "Do you like her steve? She's yours."
"Mine? What?" Eyes don't leave you, he doesn't speak for the camera, more like asking himself.
"We want to be friends with you Steve. Give us your blood and you can do whatever you want with her."
He notices how fast your chest begins to move, a small choked sound constricting from your throat. The voice the reason for the anxiousness, scaring you.
"Stop talking." Steve hisses, "i will never give you my blood and you're scaring her."
"Have it your way then." All of a sudden the small light is gone, the room is completely black, the clicking of the locks telling him someone is coming. The door hit the wall with a large thump, he swore it shook the room, he stands arms reaching out trying to get a hold of something, if something was there. A large arm reaches around his neck, before he could even react the sharp pain of a needle in his neck has him out cold.
The second time waking up was easier, his body still in full fight mode as he jumped up, trying to locate the danger. Quickly realizing it was gone, and he was alone once again. The days started to form into a week, he's given no food, forced to drink water from the leaking sink in the block room - it drives him crazy, drip, drip, drip. Stomach painfully twisting as a tray is slid from under the door- a small piece of bread, what looked like chicken broth and a banana, better then nothing at all. His mouth salivates at the salty smell of the warm soup filling his nose, almost dizzy from the lack of food. It must be his lucky day, a few hours later lunch is there too. A sandwich with an apple, they even have him a cup to drink his sink water out of.
Dinner isn't existent, but for once this whole week he is not weak, stomach not painfully squeezing inside of him. Hes not full, but satisfied. The echoing of foot steps followed by the shuffling of a shadow behind the door thinking its a late dinner but the locks unhinge, the woman revealed, two large men standing behind you as you walked in.
Steve eyes meet your face as the door is closed, your eyes avoid him at all costs. Hair perfectly flowly, features even softer than before, might even say a sight for sore eyes that have been staring at half understandable words on a page and cement walls. Except for once small detail, a countless amount of bruising ranging from small to big across your arms, most likely from the men roughing you up, grabbing harshly at the small girl.
"Hey are you okay?" He is surprised by the small squeak of a yes as you finally talk. "Why are you here?"
"I, ugh - don't know." Shakily you cross arms across the swells of your breast, a surivial instinct, protecting most vital organs. Steve chooses to ignore it, "what's your name?"
"Y/N." Its softly spoken, but a name that fits you very well. The soft patter of drops against the sink, the only sound filling the room as you finally meet his eyes. Beautiful ocean waves, big blue skies being the only words that come to mind. His features are hard bit form a devilishly handsome man, but eyes so soft reminding you of the beautiful things in life.
"Did they feed you? I have an apple left from earlier." The large red apple looks so small in his gigantic hand. You shake your head, "No, I'm okay."
"You can sit down. Do you know where we are?"
"No, I'm okay." The honest truth is men scared you, especially the largely built one who stood with so much strength that you backed away from him.
"I'm not going to hurt you. I'm not like them."
"I just don't want you by me."
Steve nods in understanding, forehead creasing i though as his tongue runs over his lips as he looks around the room. "You can sit on the bed, I'm going to go over here."
Steve points to the opposite corner of the room, "I'm going to move now, you don't have to be scared." You want to thank him for the warning but bite your tongue and nod, making sure he reaches the other side of the room before routing yourself to the pathetic excuse of the bed.
"I see you're getting along." The voice rings from the camera as Steve's eyes squint in annoyance. He decides not to play in, his gaze burns against your skin. It wasn't in a way that was uncomfortable, but he wanted to test you, ask you questions you wouldn't answer.
"She's a gift for you steve, aren't you lonely? we want to be your friends." Steve scoffs, "last time i checked, friends don't lock each other in prisons."
"You can do whatever you want with her." The voice darkenly is suggestive with unlawful thoughts, a concept as dark as that doesn't even register in his mind.
"What does that even mean?"
"We want you to take her." Steve's forehead creases in confusion, fingers stretching lines across his forehead, but when met with the horrified look on your face realization hits him like a ton of bricks, crushing his chest. Stomach clenching as he feels sick, was this normal for you to do?
The captures realized Steve wasn't going to just give up his blood, he also wouldn't take what they gifted him. Steve Rogers was a man of a moral code, the best kind of man mixed with a gentleman, that would never hurt a lady but wouldn't ever allow one to die because of his hand either. "If you don't fuck her, we will kill her."
They will strip away every part that is good of him, take away every moral and goodness this man has, starting with taking away the fact that he has a choice on who he sleeps with. Steve's ocean blues meet yours in panic, chest tight, he couldn't breath at the suggestion.
"No."
"She will die, and it will be because of you. You could've saved her Steve." This isn't right, the giant pit in his stomach screaming in horror as the words leave your mouth, "it's okay steve."
Your welcoming this, accepting it is survival but he isn't standing for it. His eyes water, he feels sick, taking away the one sense of security you posses, your choice and willing accepting that is gone. "No. I am not doing that."
"You're doing to let me die?" No, he wasn't going to that either. "They're not lying, they will slit my throat the moment I walk out of here."
"You can't even look in my eyes let alone do this!" Feelings getting the best of him as the wall crumbles underneath his power, bloody knuckles spreading the redness across his face as he rubs it stressfully.
"You have 30 seconds Steven." The voice warns, threatening is more like it.
"It's okay, i know you won't hurt me." Your soft voice is what makes him really choke up, an angel that didnt deserve this. Steve's weight is on top of you, his hand pressed against the matress supporting most of it. A hand so shaky he can't even pull at the strings of your sweats so instead you pull them down revealing what should be your choice to him.
"I am so sorry." It was a choked sob filled with so much sadness, a gruff from the chest that made even your heart break for him right now. He closes his eyes, preventing the tears from falling but in a forced moment like this, couldn't find himself to find excitment, but the fact that this was going to be life or death out weighed his feelings.
It was a small kiss, a peck barely there against his clothed shoulder made him gasp, not expecting the comfort in this moment. You of all people, comforting him, a sobbing mess of a man while your innocence he was taking unwillingly. The wetness of his tears meeting your cheeks, sliding down as he pushes into you and with that his heart breaking.
It continued for days, over and over again they make him get to know every part of your body, he begs them to stop, you tell him its okay, that this is how it has to be, but he can't take it. Sleeping soundly he watches you, peacefully in a peaceful world unlike this one. You don't care much for his touch, but sleep is the one place you don't scower from it. Its hard not to be close, the twin matress making it nearly impossible to not touch. The dark blush of the bruising is starting to fade, hand softly rubbing over the skin as you breath heavily. Chest is moving with every breath, lips slightly parted, beautiful.
Warm against him, he is glad you can sleep. It's been days since he has, guilt eating him alive, which is exactly what they want. They will continue to make him disgrace you until he breaks and allows them to give him the blood, and willingly participates in their experiments. The loud sound of cement crumbling following loud booms makes him clutch you close to his chest, back facing the door to protect you at all costs. Your awake now, breathing heavily into the chest as the sound of bullets ripple from outside of the door he coos. "Its okay, its okay. I'll protect you."
Nothing else is said as the fight outside continues until it stops, you look up at him, looking for answers until eyes widen in fear as the locks of the door sound. They were coming back for you. Steve turns, pushing you behind him as he stands tall, a man ready to fight.
"Buck?" It's just above a whisper as a tall man, almost as big as him stands. A metal arm, long black hair that reaches his shoulders.
"Steve we got to go." The girl is only noticeable when he reaches around to grab your hand, Bucky notices the messy hair, dried lips and the dark bruising against your arms. "She's coming with us."
The sunlight hurts, you cover your eyes quickly as you almost stumble to your knees trying to keep up with the two large men as bullets wiz past. Steve's arms are lifting you by the waist, nudging you to get back up. The quinjet sits only feet away, a tall, dark man yelling incoherent sounds over the swooshing of the blades in the air. In seconds the metal of the floor is cold against bare feet, door closing, it was safe.
Taking a deep breath your eyes running over the tower of Steve as the jet takes off. Bucky can't help but notice the shortening of breath from the small girl, coldness of the metal arm making you jump away in shock, "are you okay?"
"n-no!"
"Buck, buck, don't." Steve reaches for him, taking the artificial touch from her. "She doesn't like being touched. "
You feel trapped in here, three large men making it suffocating in this tiny box, that some how seemed even more freeing than the one you've grown so used to despite being high in the clouds.
"Breathe sweetheart." Steve coos, sinking down to your size, arms reaching out but not quite touching. "Its just me, my touch is good."
His touch is filled with unwanting pleasure, a reminder of what was taken away from you but also a certain gentleness that made you feel safe and secure. You don't let him touch you but nod at his words, following the rythm of his breathing from the pattern of his chest.
"What the fuck happened there?" Bucky wanted to say what the fuck is wrong with you but noticed how uncomfortable you already were.
"I just need to sit down." Steve looked broken as well as he sat finally, still feet away from you. Hands rubbing over his face, as a small cry feel from his lips. Any other time being captured by enemy lines wouldn't even affect him, but he didn't feel like the same man, he was a disgusting excuse of one that fell victim to them, they might have not gotten his blood but did strip the one piece of him he held dearly: his moral code.
Bucky chest squeezes as his best friends sorrow, hand meeting his back, rubbing soft circles of comfort. You watch every second of it, this was bound to happen, you saw the change every time he was forced to touch you, the breaking away of his head, of what he stood for but most of wishing you could accept touch like that, comfort, but any man that touched you only brought pain, physically and in the cause mentally. The ride was quiet once Steve managed to stop crying, didn't dare to talk, the emotion still raw in his chest, afraid it would start again. Once on the ground, a group of people surround him, hugs, kisses to his cheeks. Once again you were envy of his acceptance, the thought making you sick. Steve showed you to a room, placing a pair of what looked like his clothes at the end of the freshly made bed. "You can lock the door when I leave if you'll feel safer." Nails nervously scratching the back of his neck, "You can shower, and if you need me I'm right across the hall, goodnight."
Steve wanted to talk, apologize for what he had done to you but didn't also thought the events of today were enough, you deserved a goodnights rest.
Steve's clothing hung loosely from wet skin, the sweats needed to be rolled, sweater reaching mid-thigh. Sleep did not come easy, noisy sounds of the busy city, honks, and whizzing cars, something you weren't used to being secluded for so long. Anxiety bubbling deep inside your chest, burning your skin. The constant fear that they would come back for you, take you away with just a taste of this freedom.
It was strange but you missed the security, the sense of being protected by him, a feeling you have never felt before. Quietly you enter his room, he's not sleeping just deep in thought as he stares at the ceiling, not noticing your entrance.
"Steve?" Rolling your hands nervously into sweater paws as looks at you with worry. "What's wrong?"
He's sitting up now, ready for anything, trying to figure out the emotions of your face you keep so guarded. "I can't sleep."
He lays back down, hand extending opening the covers to allow you in. Thankfully he doesn't try to touch you. Running over the defined features of his face, ocean eyes so soft. For the first time ever he looks relaxed despite the dark circles under his eyes, the ocean surrounded by a deep red of regret, disgust in himself. He offers a sweet smile, which you can't find yourself to return but try your best.
Closing your eyes feels nice, his breath in your ear, you feel safe as you slip into a world of peacefulness. But not before hearing, "I'm sorry. Sweet dreams sweetheart."
Note: if you want to be tagged in the next two parts, comment below! Part 2 comes with the reader learning to accept his touch and unexpected surprise.
140 notes · View notes
Tumblr media
NEVER RARELY SOMETIMES ALWAYS (2020)
Starring Sidney Flanigan, Talia Ryder, Theodore Pellerin, Sharon Van Etten, Ryan Eggold, Kim Rios Lin, Drew Seltzer, Carolina Espiro, Denise Pillott, Lester Greene, Amy Tribbey, Guy A. Fortt, Brett Puglisi, Alexander Carney, Brian Altemus, Deepti Menon, April Szykeruk, Alana Barrett-Adkins, Michael Erik, Jingjing Tian and Aurora Richards.
Screenplay by Eliza Hittman.
Directed by Eliza Hittman.
Distributed by Focus Features. 95 minutes. Rated PG-13.
Abortion. It’s a political ticking time bomb; a medical procedure that divides American households, communities, and political parties. People cast their entire votes upon it. To this day, there remains a stigma against women who have it performed, regardless of the difficulty of the decision or the circumstance of the insemination.
Many women remain in the shadows with their choice, but at this point in time, in most places in America, a woman can at least have the procedure performed in a safe, medically appropriate facility without a danger to their health and wellbeing. For now. True stories of those who have made these difficult choices are few and far between, relegated to a side story topic; often the symptom of an already troubled character.
Enter Never Rarely Sometimes Always.
Good filmmaking is visual storytelling. No matter how challenging the topic. And Never Rarely Sometimes Always is that brave film where the central character is seeking an abortion with the very real questions and obstacles that come up along the way. The film is simple, honest, courageous, and emotional without being zealous. It is succinct and haunting and beautifully done. This film is not about politics, it is about human struggle through the eyes of a teenager with little at home support.
17-year-old Autumn (played by Sidney Flanigan) lives in Pennsylvania, a state that requires parental consent for an abortion for any patient under the age of 18. When Autumn suspects that she may be pregnant, she goes to a local women’s pregnancy care center, so common in cities and towns across America.
She can sign in without notifying her mom, however, the spectrum of choices are limited, and focused only on post-delivery – choices to keep or not to keep. In the absence of viable options, Autumn, feeling so alone, tries to take matters into her own hands, but without success.
Days later, after falling ill on shift at work, Autumn confides in her cousin, Skylar (played by Talia Ryder). The two set off by bus to New York City, where an abortion does not require parental consent at 17. As you would expect, the path is not easy, and is in fact made harder when she finds that her estimated date of pregnancy is not what she was told by the pregnancy care center in Pennsylvania and the timeline for care becomes even more difficult.
But Never Rarely Sometimes Always is not about two girls’ journey from rural PA to the big city. There are few subplots or characters that take away from the main simple storyline: a girl seeking medical care. So why was I, the viewer, a nurse, crying through a basic scene going through an intake questionnaire?
Never Rarely Sometimes Always allows the character to quietly share her story often without saying anything at all. There is very little information that we ever learn about Autumn or Skylar’s past or futures. We are living in their present moments and seeing their current situations through their eyes.
We are granted 1 hour and 40 minutes walking in their shoes, with the rare opportunity to empathize. Writer and Director Eliza Hittman gives us this gift-to see what it is like for Autumn and Skylar to live in their day to day – Autumn’s stoicism in the face of her unwanted pregnancy; the faceless, creepy as hell kiss on their hands every night at work as they turn in their end of shift till money; the lingered hand of Jasper on the bus assuming that pretty Skylar is eager for his attention; how Skylar painfully banks on her beauty to be able to get the pair the emergency funds that they need to finally head back to Pennsylvania; and finally, the raw quiet in the clinic where the film gets its name. Never Rarely Sometimes Always are supposedly simple answers on a questionnaire, while Autumn’s silent responses to the questions tell more than we want to imagine, and we know by the clinician’s response that Autumn is not the first to answer in this way.
The Sundance and Berlin Film Festival award winning film Never Rarely Sometimes Always is available to watch starting April 3, 2020 on Prime Video, Apple TV, Google Play, and other streaming platforms.
Bonnie Paul
Copyright ©2020 PopEntertainment.com. All rights reserved. Posted: April 3, 2020.
12 notes · View notes
cuttoothed · 5 years
Text
Are we doing GiveMartinHugs these days? Regardless, have two...less nice hugs, and one good one.
*
Peter’s arms around him are cold as fog, as ice, as indifference. Martin shudders in their grasp, feeling the chill spread from Peter’s broad chest into his. It feels like all his organs are going numb. Like everything is. The beat of his heart is sluggish, like it’s pumping ice water through his veins instead of blood.
“This is the final step, Martin,” Peter says against his ear. Despite his arms around Martin, his voice sounds very far away. “Embrace Forsaken. You’ll always be alone, and you’ll never care.”
And doesn’t that sound wonderful: not caring, not feeling, the invulnerability of detachment. Stepping away from everything that’s hurt him. Everything that’s still hurting him, through the anesthetic cold, the sharpest ache of all (you’ll never see him again).
“I’ll never see him again,” Martin mumbles, his lips numb, his tongue thick in his mouth. His thoughts are glacial, but that cuts through like a knife. 
“But he’ll be safe,” Peter says from a great distance. Martin can’t feel Peter’s arms around him anymore, it just feels like being wrapped in winter fog, damp and heavy and shivering. Peter’s voice is like an echo of a person long gone.
“Do you really want to see him? It’s easier this way, you said it yourself. You’ll know he’s safe, and you’ll never have to worry about being hurt or disappointed.”
Do I really want to see Jon? Martin’s memory draws out sad, tired eyes, a mouth pulled tight with determination, forehead creased with constant worry. Jon’s voice, soft and exhausted: I’m so sorry. He thinks about never seeing Jon again, never again hearing his voice.
“You won’t miss him.”
I miss you.
“After a while, you won’t remember you ever wanted to see him.”
It was good to see you.
There is a tight, hot ache in Martin’s chest, and he recognizes the sensation of tears searing a trail down his numb cheeks. He whimpers, his heart thudding painfully, indignantly, against his rib cage.
“I can’t,” he gasps. “I can’t.”
Painful warmth is racing through the numb heart of him, chasing out the cold, pins and needles scoring his skin. Through his tears, he can see the fog thinning, the outlines of Elias’ office coming back into view. Peter’s voice is a fading, reproachful whisper:
“You’ll never save him like this, Martin.”
Martin sinks into a chair, shaking and weak as sensation flows painfully back through his limbs. It hurts, feeling, but he supposes he doesn’t have much choice.
*
Annabelle Cane has spindly arms with long fingers, and when they wrap around Martin it feels like there are too many of them, with too many joints. She doesn’t open her mouth, but Martin feels the silk of her thoughts sliding against his, tugging at his individual neurons in a way that registers as words.
<<You’ve never been able to control anything, and that makes you afraid.>>
Martin nods against her bony shoulder, feels the sticky mass of web that makes up her skull pressing into his hair. Feels the sensation of tiny legs touching his face tentatively, eager to explore. It sends an unpleasant feeling squirming up his spine, but he doesn’t think it’s exactly fear.
<<You want to protect what you love.>>
“I need to. I can’t - I can’t see him dead again.” Martin squeezes his eyes shut, feels her long, thin fingers stroking through his hair, leaving strands of silk in their wake.
<<You can only protect what is in your control.>>
Martin feels his own hands move jerkily, against his volition, up onto Annabelle’s back. A parody of an embrace. He cannot see the strings but he feels them pull tight around him, cutting his breath short. He feels what might be fingers or spider legs crawling over his face, his neck, down into his collar. He shudders.
“I don’t want to control him,” he manages to say past the web that’s stitching his lips together. “I just want him to be safe.”
<<If you belong to us you can keep him safe and secure and loved. And he will belong to us as well. He won’t even mind, after a while.>>
Martin thinks of Jon being safe, not constantly flinging himself into danger. Letting Martin take care of him without being so bloody stubborn all the time. Thinks of Jon pliant, obedient, and that thought tugs at something inside him, something possessive and many-legged. In the next instant he is viscerally disgusted at the idea, shaken and sick at himself for letting it crawl through his skull.
It’s difficult to move, but Martin manages to shake his head where it’s bound against Annabelle’s shoulder. He feels the threads loosening, just a little. Pulls sharply against them, and hears the ragged tearing of silk as they part. He lifts his head to look into Annabelle Cane’s black, unblinking eyes.
“I won’t do that to him,” he tells her.
<<Then you will not be able to save him.>>
And you are no use to us, she doesn’t add, but her arms release him and the threads holding him fall away. His legs give way and he drops limply to the floor as she withdraws. It takes a while, but in time he remembers how to carry his own weight.
*
Jonathan Sims claims to be a monster, but his arms around Martin feel entirely, beautifully human. His hands grip Martin’s back with a strength born of determination, a stubborn ferocity so very Jon that Martin feels dizzy with it. His thin frame is pressed warm and alive against Martin, and if Martin’s first thought is that he hasn’t been eating properly, well, old habits die hard.
“You’re here,” Jon says, sounding as if he hardly believes it.
Martin dares to rest his own hands on Jon’s back, feeling his rib cage expand and contract as he breathes. Jon makes a soft sound against his shoulder as Martin’s arms go around him, and Martin could cry.
“I’m sorry,” he says, hearing the catch in his own voice.
“What on earth for?” Jon’s voice is muffled against his jumper, but the incredulous tone is still so familiar that it makes Martin’s heart ache.
“I wanted to keep you safe. And I couldn’t. I just - I couldn’t.”
“Martin…” Jon sounds exasperated, but there’s something gentle in his voice as well. “You can’t keep me safe - nothing can keep any of us safe.”
“So what am I supposed to do?” Martin pleads, because it seems like he can’t do anything. All he’s ever done is make the tea and watch people die, and the one time he tried to really do something, he failed. Too afraid to give himself up, too weak to take control.
Jon’s arms get tighter around him, and he pushes his face into Martin’s neck. Presses a hard kiss there like a declaration.
“Just stay with me,” he says. “That's all I need. Please, Martin.”
Martin can’t think, can’t know anything but the warmth of Jon against him, the tenacious strength of Jon’s arms holding him close. Turns his head to press a kiss to Jon’s graying hair, his cheek, their noses bumping together as their lips brush, trembling and fierce.
“Stay with me,” Jon repeats, soft as a breath, against his mouth. Kisses him again.
“Yes,” Martin chokes past the lump in his throat, because of course he will. He may not be able to keep Jon safe, but he'll stay, as long as he possibly can. As long as he lives. It won't be enough, he knows, with the horrors around them and the monsters within. But at least it will be theirs.
217 notes · View notes
amazingflyingdick · 4 years
Text
old times’ sake.
WHO: Dick @amazingflyingdick and Slade @terminator-deathstroke WHERE: Star City Jail WHEN: May 17th, 2020 WHAT: Slade comes to after the effects of the neurotoxin wear off and finds himself in a cell
Slade: When Slade came to, it felt like he had been hit by a truck. The bed he was on was harder than the one he'd slept on in his army days, he could swear. He didn't open his eyes just yet, instead giving a groan. His stomach was tense, like he might throw up if he moved too fast. And as he lay there, the realization that Dick had taken him for a ride slowly settled back over him. He really had thought the other might buy him out and let him just settle down in the city for a while. Slade wasn't even sure what his real motivation was for that, apart from Rose, but he had asked for it.
Of course... now the deal was off. Whatever Dick had done to him had neutralized the agreement.
Giving another groan, he finally opened his eye and realized that he wasn't in his armor. He didn't have any of his weapons. And he felt horrible. The residual dizziness made him need to throw up, which was something he hadn't done in such a long time. "Fuck," he managed, hand pressing to his forehead. Dick: There was a lot of paperwork to get through and Dick also had to speak to Gordon about the incident. He still instructed one of the guards to let him know when Slade woke up. Since he was a metahuman, his holding cell was the same one they used for prisoners in isolation. Star City Jail didn't have the best funding and the cells still had bars, as well as a slot where things could be passed through. The block contained no other prisoners and was dead silent, apart from footsteps and shuffling keys.
It was Dick, his expression grim and a styrofoam cup in his hand, but he wasn’t alone. After he assured the guard she didn't need to stay and could continue on her rounds, she shot a look at Slade, reluctant, and Dick had to prompt her again before she left. "I brought you some water," he finally said once the guard's footsteps faded away. There was the distant clank of a door closing. Slade: Slade sat up, pressing his back against the wall as he did so to support his weight. "You don't seriously think I would take something from you after what just happened, do you, Dick?" He wasn't an idiot. Even if he could drink an entire gallon of water in one go most likely. He shook his head, which was a mistake as he made it spin.
"You very nearly had be believing you, kid," he said simply. "But I think you'll understand if I don't say 'well done'?" Dick: "I'm a detective, Slade. I'm not going to poison you." Dick wasn't exactly surprised by the response, but it bothered him. It made something in his chest tighten. "It's just water." He took a drink himself to prove it. "There. Come on. You can't not eat or drink the whole time you're here."
Everything that happened weighed on him. It was why he was here. "I wasn't lying. If you took the money and left, I would have let you.” It wasn’t something he was proud of, but it was true. “You took off your helmet. Why?" Slade: "I can go for a lot longer than a human with no metagene. I'm fine." He wanted the water, but he was making a point.
He scoffed. He could give Dick a long winded answer, but he didn't bother. If they were going to play a little game like this, he wouldn't show any more of his hand. "Old times' sake," he responded with a deadpan expression. "What did your goon drug me with? Was that Tim Drake's making? Or maybe Jason Todd." He lifted a shoulder. "It wouldn't have been Bruce Wayne's. And I think you're too protective to have brought young Damian." Dick: Dick wasn't going to belabor the point, but he did set the cup on the little slot so that Slade could take it if he wanted.
"I know a lot of people. Why would I involve my family if I didn't have to?" He didn't want Slade to suspect Jason or Tim. There was no telling what he would do if (no, when) he was released. "Does it matter who else? I'm the one you're angry with." Even though he didn't think Slade would do anything, he still kept some distance from the bars. It was habit. "You know this was never what I wanted." Slade: "Could it be Speedy then? He's a good shot. Last I heard, he was addicted to heroin, though. Can make your hands shaky." He shook his head, looking up at Dick. "You know I knew it was you in that room before I even opened the door? I know the beat of your heart. I could have left when I realized you were setting me up. But I was curious."
He shrugged. "You're different after a decade. So am I. I don't know what you want now, little bird." Dick: "I'm not going to tell you anything, Slade. It was me. That's all you need to know." Dick stepped closer to the bars and started to take something out of his pocket, but then he froze at the words.That Slade knew what his heart would sound like visibly rocked him, even though he knew it hadn't been said with any sentimentality. He still had to turn his head away, close enough that he bar brushed the hair by his temple.
Ten years ago he'd been sure of what he wanted, sure enough to say words like promise and always to Slade, who he knew now had just wanted to hear them. They didn't have to be true. Now, ten years later, remembering how real it’d been for him, he felt the power of that desire just as potently. It was like his brain and heart were operating separately. "Yes you do. I just don't let it make a fool out of me anymore." He set a packet of dramamine and a packet of Advil next to the water. "That might help the dizziness." Slade: Slade watched him for a long moment before finally finally pushing to his feet. He walked slowly, deliberately. He was still painfully dizzy. He didn't care who the other two had been. Not really. He only cared that he had been there and Dick had lied to him and he had done it so beautifully. Perhaps his little bird had learned to warble a different set of songs.
He ignored the slot, moving instead to the bars to look at Dick freely. He was close enough and Slade tried to reach for him through the bars, just to brush his fingers over Dick's jaw. "I lied. I think I will say 'well done'." Dick: Dick knew Slade was approaching the bars and he needed to step back, move away, because he didn't know what he would do. Because he was right - it had been ten years - and he could be confident in himself, but Slade's true motivations would always be a mystery to him. The gentle touch shocked him just as much as Slade throttling him through the bars would have.
It wasn't until the words well done that he reacted, turning his head against the touch even as one hand gripped the bars even tighter, ready to push back quickly if he had to. "Why did you choose this?" Slade: "Choose what?" Slade asked, watching Dick. He was feeling generous, perhaps a little bit proud of the other for managing to best him. He might be willing to answer a few questions. He might even be semi honest about it. If Dick would actually ask them.
He let his hand fall away before moving back again. He did put his weight against the bars to support himself, though he didn't look away from the other. Dick: Sighing softly, Dick also moved back. He couldn't bring himself to meet Slade's eyes because he didn’t trust what Slade would see there. It was something he used to do when he felt overwhelmed, or vulnerable, although he’d stopped bothering near the end. It had been a decade, but in many ways he was very much the same.
"Deathstroke," he finally said, his voice barely above a whisper. No one could hear them, but that didn't mean he wasn't listening for approaching footsteps and keys. Slade: Slade watched the other for a long time. The question was inevitable, he supposed, but it didn't mean he really even had an answer for it. At first it had been because he had had something to prove to the assholes who had discharged him from the army. Then it had been because he had no other skill. What else could Slade Wilson have done?
From there... it was money and then just... because he had done it for so long. Now, he couldn't be sure but it was his career. It wasn't like he could just change it out of the blue. "Why did you choose Nightwing?" Dick: Dick sighed again and let his hand fall away from the bar. "That's not an answer." Even though he hadn't said it, what he wanted to know was why Slade had chosen Deathstroke over him. But that was something not even Slade seemed to have an answer for, which somehow made things worse.
There was a lot he could say about why he'd chosen Nightwing. He'd said a lot to Slade before on the topic. All of that was still true. He wanted the world to be better, safer, and he believed in the inherent goodness of people. This time he would say something different, more raw and less cloying. "Because I don't want another kid to go through what I went through." Slade: "No, it isn't, is it?" He shook his head. "But given our setting, I can't tell you too much. Right now, I know you can't hold me. My lawyers will know it too. If I say too much, though, then you could have me." He shook his head. "I said too much to your brother, and that landed me here. I forgot, for a moment, the Waynes are smart." He watched Dick, reaching up to run a hand through his hair before finally giving in and reaching for the Styrofoam cup. He downed the pills and the water before looking up at him again. "Ask me again sometime, maybe."
"Did it work? Do you think you've held up the purpose?" Dick: The response reminded him who he was talking to, or at the very least what Slade's priorities were. "No," he said simply, stepping away from the bars. "I don't think I will." There was nothing Slade could tell him that would change anything. He made the choice regardless. Even if he'd been honest about putting down roots in Star City, he'd made it clear from the start that he wasn't here for Dick.
He didn't answer the question. "I'll have the nurse bring more water. She should be by within the hour." Slade: As Dick closed off, Slade felt a pain in his chest that he tried to push down. He swallowed it down, feeling it there thickly. He tensed his jaw visibly before calling out to him: "I was going to kill the employer." Was that enough for Dick? Was it enough to tell him that? He would still be taking business in Star City. After all, Dick had broken his end of the deal. But it didn't mean he had to alienate the kid anymore, if he was going to keep pushing himself nearer. Was nothing he did enough to really keep Dick away? Was that perhaps the point all along? Never quite enough. Dick: Dick had started to turn away. He hadn't even thought to ask Slade about what happened earlier, or whether or not he would have taken the hit, because he didn't expect he would get the truth. By now he'd already filled in the blanks himself, even though it didn't leave him with the answers he wanted.
But it was different when Slade came out and said it that plainly. Dick stopped and looked back at him, unsure, but he could only hesitate for a second before returning to the bars. "I kept looking at my phone," he said, his expression difficult to read. "I expected you to warn me. I don't know why." Slade: "I thought about it," he said. "But if I killed him... you wouldn't have to know." And he wouldn't have to know that someone had tried to hire Slade to kill him. That Slade was going to turn him down. He would have remained oblivious. "I had to kill him, though. If I had just turned down the job, then someone else would have come." And he wouldn't have that. Dick was not to be harmed by that life if Slade could help it. He hadn't spent ten years solidifying their distance to keep him alive only to have someone else kill him.
He shrugged. "But guess I didn't have to kill him at all. Were you testing me, little bird?" He looked up at Dick, his eye meeting the other's. "Did I fail it?" Dick: Dick was listening to everything Slade was saying, even though he didn't know what to make of it. It didn't completely surprise him that Slade wouldn't want him to be taken out by someone else. Somehow it made sense. He didn't know what Slade's reasoning was, but it was something he could speculate on.
"No." That hadn't been the goal. He wasn't sure what to think when Slade showed up, but it wasn't far-fetched to think he would take the money and the job. "I knew you would take it. Either because you didn't want me dead or because you wanted to be the one to do it. How would you kill me? If you had to. What would you use? A gun? A knife?" Slade: It wasn't like Slade hadn't tried to consider it. He'd come up with hundreds of scenarios. Intimately considered logistics. But in the end his mind always balked. Couldn't finish the scenarios. That was counter-intuitive too. He could tell Dick was looking for something from him. Slade wanted to know what it was. Did he need Slade to be despicable in order to stomach being away from Slade? Or was it because that was the only way he could make sense of Slade leaving? Playing into the latter would benefit his original intention. A good intention and a selfish one simultaneously. He didn't want him hurt and he knew he couldn't emotionally handle shouldering another mistake. Another failure.
But did he want that? Did he want uphold that facade any deeper. The kid was stronger now. It was obvious because he was the one inside the cell this time. Dick had challenged Slade's power. Pushed back against him. Did he have the fortitude now to live through Deathstroke? He wasn't really one for optimism.
So he simply opted for what he knew to be true. No ulterior motive. "I wouldn't." Dick: He believed him. It was that simple. Maybe it didn't even matter why Slade wanted him alive, if it were to fulfill a specific purpose or because he believed him worthy of life in that way few people were. Dick could think of others Slade wouldn't touch.
But even though he believed it, there was a part of him that wanted to challenge Slade's conviction.
That was the way he'd always been. Even in the beginning he liked pushing Slade's buttons in subtle ways, always teasing him in a lighthearted, harmless way. It was innocent fun. He hadn't been frightened of Slade, but he also didn't acknowledge the severity of the situation. This time he did and the playfulness was gone. He unhooked the keys from his belt and unlocked the cell, sliding the door open. Even if Slade chose this moment to escape, there were at least three more locked gates to get past first. "You wouldn't?" Slade: Slade watched Dick as he unlocked the door. It did occur to him that he could run. He could probably have honestly managed to get past the other doors he'd come across. But there was no need to. Deathstroke wasn't chaotic enough to make a break for it. He weighed risks. He was calculated. And they had nothing on him.
And Slade just a flicker of something in the choice. Like it meant something. And he was still fighting with whether or not he wanted to open that gate again. He hadn't had time to really weigh the options, calculated just like Deathstroke. Different but one and the same.
So his response was not to move. If Dick was taking control ofthe situation, Slade wanted to see how far he would push on his own. After all, he was trying to hard to make Slade into a monster. So what would it mean if Dick chose him. Ten years ago, he had chosen for them. There was deniability. Slade could have manipulated Dick, could have lied to him and pushed himself on him. As Dick had so crassly implied on the roof, Slade could have predated him.
But if Dick wanted him enough to push, and he did it with little encouragement from Slade, then it was his choice and his image of Slade shifted. Or Dick's image of himself. Slade wanted to see what would come of that. If he was putting down roots, why not see what Dick sowed along with him? He shook his head to answer Dick's question, watching the younger man.
"You letting me go, little bird? Or is it something else?" Dick: Dick was always thinking ahead. He didn't know if Slade would make a break for it. Perhaps he would shove him into the cell and try to snatch his keys and run. The jail was old, but the security system was set up to avoid hostage situations. It also used to be controlled by NOVA, before the agents were forced out of the department. They didn't use the power inhibitors, but they were there.
The question weighed heavily in the air between them. Dick didn't say anything. His expression, for once, was difficult to read aside from an overall look of defeat. He seemed stricken. Explaining Slade's actions and attempting to understand them had taken years of a carefully constructed narrative. As a whole, it didn't make much sense. Slade's version (what he left behind in the letter) didn't make sense either. He didn't know what the truth was, but he no longer believed it was all lies. It was impossible to look at Slade and think that, especially when their interactions still contained that inexplicable draw he felt at the beginning. His trust in himself might have been shaken by the experience, but he hadn't been as naive as he once thought.
Obviously he couldn't let him go, not now, and not while knowing that there would be more contracts. More death. It didn't matter how he felt about Slade, he couldn't allow people to die just because he cared about him - still loved him, even. Dick could never be that selfish.
Instead of giving him an answer, he crossed the threshold, closing the space between them without hesitation or fear. At some point he intended for things to be slow, controlled, but that intention was lost the moment he was close enough to feel the heat from his body. When he kissed him it was hard and hungry. Slade: The kiss stuck Slade to his core, rocking all the way down to the soles of his shoes. He wasn't sure what he had expected, but Slade had considered that he would kiss him. Not here and like this. Another failure, he supposed, since he had only managed to push Dick back insofar as he could stay away from him. Dick brought out an abstruse desire to be honest in Slade. The job followed him everywhere. Slade was Deathstroke and Deathstroke's deeds were Slade's. But Dick always made him want to separate them. Go back to what he had been before when it had been the deserving. Money hadn't been the most driving thing. Before his optimism had run out.
He moved quickly, slamming Dick hard enough into the wall to take his breath. He had ceded the control, but he couldn't stay unresponsive. Couldn't remain the subdued presence. Not completely. Dick had pushed Slade enough that he was reacting. But only for a moment.
When he pulled his lips from Dick's with a small pop, he was panting a little. "For old times' sake?" He asked Dick, grimly bemused by the whole thing. Slade was such a fuck up. Even ten years later. Dick: When Dick's back struck the wall that hard he gasped, nearly choking on his breath, but then Slade was kissing him back and his hands moved to his arms, his shoulders, and then up to his face. Kissing him like this was hauntingly familiar, but he was struck by the intensity of it and how much he felt like he needed it. The thought crossed his mind when they were on the roof and Slade had taken off his mask. He'd considered it - for a moment, at least - but managed to hold himself back. It had been why he'd asked him not to come back. He knew he might not be as strong the second time, or the third, and knowing Slade intended to live in the city meant that it was only a matter of time before they were doing this again.
He shook his head, his expression dazed and strangely sad even though his hands tightened where they rested on Slade's shoulders. This wasn't some trip down memory lane, even though he wasn't quite sure what it was yet. "No. I wanted to." Slade: "You shouldn't miss me, kid," he said, bending down to steal one more soft kiss from him. His heart thumped hard in his chest, surprising him as he looked down at the other. It was like a moth to flame. He couldn't not slip right back into how it felt. How Dick made him warm and made him forget Deathstroke in favor of Slade for the first time in a while. But he was right. Dick shouldn't miss him. It wouldn't do either of them any good. He petted his hand through Dick's hair before pulling back.
"You said the nurse would be by soon." He couldn't stay. Not and risk getting caught. Slade had to think. Dick: Dick smirked faintly and there was some of how he used to be in the way he teased. "Who said I missed you?" He did move back, pausing to pick up the styrofoam cup, and rolled the heavy door closed. The sound of the lock made him sigh, his expression more solemn when he looked up at Slade through the bars. "Do you need anything? I'll have her bring the water." Now that the moment was over, he knew he had to clear his head. The situation was grim and his feelings had no place in it. No matter how much he wished things were different, he couldn't turn a blind eye to reality. Slade: "Yes. I'll need a phone. For my lawyers. And perhaps I'll need to see the commissioner. I haven't decided yet." Looking away, he finally forced himself to make his way over to the bed. His head was pounding my now. "You should tell whomever made that tranq that they could make a mint selling it on the Dark Web." Dick: "Coming right up." The phone call, anyway. He knew Gordon would try to talk to Slade, but whether or not Slade would cooperate was another matter altogether. He sighed, even though he made a mental note to let Tim know how effective the toxin had been, and finally stepped away from the bars to leave. "I'll check in later. Get some rest."
5 notes · View notes
monstersandmaw · 5 years
Text
Submission to Ghosti - Merman x female character (sfw)
I did edit this a little, but only the title, and adding in a ‘read more’ so that it’s not a super long post.
I would just like to add that normally it'd be polite to ask if someone is ok with posting a long story by someone else on their own writing blog first before submitting it, but since the story was one I felt my followers would enjoy, I decided that this time I would post it. Please, in future, if you have something you'd like me to post for you, come and talk to me in chat first. This is, after all, my own platform for my own writing, and if you want to write your own stories, then it's easy enough to make a side-blog for that.
Thanks, Ghosti
a captured merman befriends a bandit girl caught by a pirate crew and they both escape together
Escape.
It was the only thought I harbored in my mind as I laboriously dragged myself to the steps of the cargo hold leading up to the deck. I was a truly pitiful sight, a powerful, graceful, and (to the wrong people) deadly creature, now feeble, helpless, outside my element.
If only I could make it up to the deck, I thought, as I reached the bottom step of the stairs and placed a webbed hand onto the wooden rung. None of the crew were probably awake at this time.
All I’d have to do was to scale the short flight of steps, up to the deck, drag myself across the ship, haul myself up over the railing and leap overboard, to freedom.
Which was easier said than done, when you’ve got no legs and holding your breath the whole time.
With great effort, I tried to pull myself up the few steps, my wet, slippery hands trying to find purchase onto the steps while my tail dragged uselessly behind like dead weight.
Damn, this was humiliating.
If only the rest of my pod could see me now. They, who spoke of how dreadful the landwalkers were, with their woven traps and spears of death, who killed and plundered the ocean’s inhabitants without mercy. Who would pay dearly to get their dirty scaleless hands onto one of our kind.
I had been too arrogant, and now I paid the price.
“Going somewhere, eh, fish-boy?”
I barely had enough time to register the voice before a heavy blow connected with my face, sending me sprawling across the floor. I turned, barely catching a glimpse of the captain’s ugly mug before a boot-clad foot landed heavily onto my back and pinned me to the floor, knocking the breath out of my ‘lungs’.
(Well, not exactly lungs. I have no lungs and cannot breathe air. They were more like gills within my chest, openining out through four pairs of slits in my ribs out of which I exhaled water–ah dammit. I’m no educated scholar and no place to explain how my lungs, or gills, or whatever they were, functioned to help me breathe…)
But I did know that they needed water.
Water that I’d coughed out from the breath I was holding, now spilled out onto the floor and of no use to me.
My panicked gasps only drew the stinging, unfulfilling air into my chest, choking me with its emptiness. I struggled feebly against the captain’s unrelenting boot while he, with his one green eye and cruel, crooked grin, gazed sadistically down at me.
“Well, well, well,” he growled. “Looks like our catch of the day is trying to make a getaway, eh?”
I flopped helplessly under his weight, turning my head desperately toward the bucket in the cargo hold and the life-giving liquid it contained. They’d locked me into the hold with only that bucket to keep me alive, with just enough water to breathe out of.
Water that was hopelessly out of my reach.
Two crew members, probably roused by the noise of the fiasco, entered the hold to take a look and bellowed in laughter, cruelly mocking my torment. “Looks like the little fishy wants the water,” guffawed one.
The captain cackled, “Listen here, fish-boy, do as I say, and maybe we’ll let you live once you hit land. You’re gonna be worth a fortune once the merchants get their eyes on a real, live Mer,” he gloated, greedily eyeing me from the top of my pale-haired head to my crimson tail fin. “But of course, if you refuse to cooperate…" 
He threateningly laid a hand onto my precious bucket.
Oh no.
”…then we could just let 'cha dry up and die so you’ll finally shut up, eh? I’m pretty sure your smelly carcass would still be worth some gold, heh heh heh. You know the folks by the southlands say that eating the flesh of a mermaid will make you live forever?“
I gagged at the thought, in addition to my gags of suffocation.
"That is, unless you wanna live, eh fish-boy? So what’s it gonna be? You gonna keep still quit thrashing about?”
I hated to comply to the disgusting man’s wishes, but I had no choice. Begrudgingly, I nodded in approval.
“There’s a good fishy,” he crooned. “They’ll find a nice home for you at the freak show or somethin, heh heh.”
He released his foot from my back and at once I struggled toward the bucket, frantically gasping for air. My chest burned, my throat ached, my skin itched, my entire body was violently begging for water.
Water.
The captain and his crewmates still said something as they walked up back from the deck, but their words were drowned out in the dizzying haze that clouded my mind, seconds away from losing consciousness. I squirmed and wriggled and flopped frantically toward the pail of salvation, with but a single thought racing through my mind:
“waterwaterwaterwaterwaterWATERWATERWATERWATER–”
With a loud splash I dunked my head into the bucket, inhaling convulsively as water rushed into my gills again. Despite my dire situation I at least felt slightly more safe now, now that I wasn’t suffocating anymore.
It felt good to breathe again. 
It wasn’t long before the last of my strength left me, and I passed out. I was a pathetic sight, pale like a drowned corpse with my head dunked in a pail, my graceful fins all slopped limply onto the wooden floor like wet rags, lying motionlessly upon the floor and barely alive.
But nonetheless, still alive.
————————–
I had no clue how many hours had passed when I was awoken by a loud scuffle above on deck. Taking a deep breath of water, I lifted my head out of the pail to see what was going on, just as the captain’s crew tossed a heavy, struggling bundle into the hold, which landed next to me with a loud thud.
“Why don'tcha stay down there with the man-fish, you thieving whore of a sea rat!” yelled a crewmember from above.
“Do you think it’s gonna eat her?” whispered another.
Her?
Holding my breath, I cautiously crawled toward the thrashing, wailing bundle and pulled off the tattered dirty cloth covering it, taking my first look at what was going to be my new room-mate for the next few days to come.
It was a human girl.
Her dark, curly hair covered much of her face, but I could see the surprise and terror in her big, brown eyes as she quickly looked at whatever had pulled the bag off of her head. She stopped struggling against her bonds and stared at me, a faint, terrified whimper emerging from the back of her throat.
I don’t think she’s ever seen a merman before.
Pulling myself back to my bucket to take another breath, I gazed upon the newcomer. She was a brown-skinned little one, clad in colorful fabrics and with strange, shiny stones dangling from her ears, and her hair, though messy, beautifully crowned her narrow, elegant face.
Beautiful.
Maybe I was going mad from the lack of water, but somehow this accursed, monstrous landwalker was beautiful.
A pain in my chest suddenly snapped my mesmerized gaze from her and I dunked my head back into the bucket to take another breath. Her frightened gaze turned into a sort of horrified fascination as she struggled into a sitting position to get a better look at the strange flopping, gasping, scaly creature before her.
“W-w-what are you?” she stuttered.
Peering up from my bucket, I met her gaze and nodded, pointing to myself.
“You-you can understand me?”
I nodded, eager to make a connection with this fascinating being, sure, one of those landwalkers, but still, company after being alone for way too long.
“Can you-can you talk?”
I shook my head in slight dismay. Of course I was able to speak- underwater, that is. But I couldn’t speak without water, or even breathe, for that matter, so for now, some nods and shakes had to do.
She looked down at me, at my dry and flaking scales and at the numerous bleeding cuts I had sustained from flopping about on the splintery floor. Her face turned into a wince of pity.
“Those bastards,” she muttered. “Look what they’ve done to you, you poor…thing.”
Poor thing, eh.
She was just as much a 'poor thing’ as I was, her ankles and wrists bound in ropes, bruises and cuts blemishing her face, her clothes tattered and torn, and locked up in a cargo ship bound for prison or death.
They’d treated me with unspeakable cruelty, but it seemed that they treated their own kind no better. Those bastards, indeed.
“Say,” she whispered, after a moment. “You couldn’t be one of those Mer-people I’ve been hearing about, are you? You look an awful lot like what the old sailors spoke of, one half handsome lad, one half scaly fish, hmm?”
I nodded.
“Eh. I wonder how a creature like you somehow ended up in this shithole of a boat.”
I wished I could tell her, how I was hauled up in a net, tied up by the crew, how I chewed through my binds with my sharp teeth and whacked them around with my tail, taking almost half the crew to subdue me. Boy, that would have been a tale to tell, if only I could speak to her, outside of the water–
Wait.
Ropes.
Sharp teeth.
Taking another breath from my bucket, I dug my hands into the floor and pulled myself toward her, my tail scraping painfully across the wooden floor. She inched backwards slightly, as I grabbed her bound hands, causing her to whimper uneasily.
“Please, don’t hurt me,” she cried, as she saw a flash of my pearly white pointed teeth.
I raised a finger gently, trying to tell her that I meant her no harm. I didn’t know if she understood, but I started getting to work.
She held back a muffled scream. Perhaps she thought I was going to devour her?
Her terror quickly vanished though, as the ropes around her wrists snapped. Suddenly, a look of joyful realization crept across her face.
“Oh,” she gasped. “You’re helping me escape.”
I nodded.
It wasn’t long before my sharp teeth made quick work of the bindings around her ankles. She stretched her legs in relief, as I retreated to take another breath from my bucket.
I couln’t help but gaze at her legs. They seemed so strange, so alien, almost like a pair of extra arms where a tail should be, but with stubby little fingers that were useless for grasping. They were so bizarre and yet strangely enchanting, and I couldn’t help but gaze in awe as she rose to a standing position, her unwieldy limbs supporting her weight in this choking emptiness of an atmosphere.
She headed up the steps of the cargo hold, up toward the deck. My heart sank as I realized she was leaving me.
She looked back and met my gaze once more.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
She started to head up the steps but suddenly hesitated, and she turned back again and I could see tears welling up in her eyes.
“I’m so sorry,” she said sorrowfully.  “I’m sorry I can’t take you with me.”
But as she took one long look around the cargo hold, he stopped in surprise.
“Or can I?”
———————-
It was a stupid solution.
A novel, but utterly stupid solution.
She had located two other buckets in the hold, and had filled them with water from one of the barrels. She placed one at the foot of the stairs, and another one out onto the deck. Fortunately, the crew were all asleep at this point, and there was none to witness the strange sight of a girl hauling a bucket out onto the deck of a ship in the middle of the night.
“Well, here goes nuthin’,” she groaned, as she stepped back down into the hold. “You’re clearly too heavy for me to carry, so you’ll have to crawl there on your own. But at least I helped, a little. It’s the best I can do.”
I smiled and nodded back at her.
“It’s the least I can do for the merman who saved my life.”
And with a swift step she was gone, heading up onto the deck to freedom.
Slowly I began to drag myself toward the bucket at the base of the stairs. It was actually a pretty clever idea, I couldn’t get past this point without suffocating and having to head back. She’d given me a couple of rest stops to breathe from.
Taking a deep breath from the bucket below the stairs, I headed up the steps one rung at a time. It was still difficult with my tail weighing me down, but with a gillful of water from the second bucket I had the strength to haul myself upward, step by step until i flopped exhausted onto the deck.
Before me was the third and final bucket. One more stop and I was almost there to freedom.
Having taken a breath, one last breath before my escape, I headed toward the railing of the ship. The sound of the waves was tantilizingly close, the salty smell of the breeze, the splashing of the water onto the deck…
I was almost free.
Suddenly, just as I was a few drags away from the railing, I heard a loud scream behind me. I turned and looked, and to my horror, I saw the landwalker girl, caught in the iron grasp of the evil, bloodthirsty captain, screaming in terror as he seized her by one arm.
“Well, if it ain’t the little bitch, trying to make a getaway in one of our lifeboats!” He gazed out at me, laying upon the wooden floor. “And you’ve freed our little fish friend too, eh? I won’t get a bag of gold for him now, but your blood would make a pretty neat consolation prize, you wretched whore!”
He lifted up a curved blade and pointed it at her throat.
Damn it, was I ever in a dilemma.
On one side, the freedom of the ocean just a few feet away.
And on the other, the life of a landwalker girl.
And never have I thought I would make such a decision.
In the biggest twist in all my life I found myself turning away from the sea, giving up my chance at escape for a landwalker girl I’d barely even known for a day.
And yet somewhere in my flopping, suffocating, water-deprived heart I knew I wouldn’t regret that decision.
——————-
With a terrible unearthly cry I launched myself at the captain, pinning him to the floor. I never even knew how I managed to make such a horrible sound outside the water, but I didn’t even care at the moment.
I was way too fucking pissed off.
I viciously tore at the captain with all my hate, with all the torment and suffering I had endured at his hand for the past few days, with all the brutality he had inflicted onto this poor landwalker girl I didn’t even have a name for, clawing and biting at his face with the ferocity of a furious shark, thrashing about wildly on deck…
“ARGHHH! GET THIS THING OFF ME!” he cried out, muffled. He dropped his blade, but he still had the landwalker girl in his grasp, his horrid, disgusting grasp…
…and in one final act of hateful cruelty, he shoved her overboard.
With a loud scream she plummeted into the ocean and hit the surf with a splash. I snapped out of my bloodthirsty rage and looked out at where she had fallen.
“Heh heh heh…” laughed the captain, pinned to the floor and bleeding all over his face. “If I can’t have a merman to sell…then you can’t have your slimy little slut either!” He cackled evilly, his green eye gazing at me, mocking me, tempting my rage…
And in a fit of fury, as a little parting gift, I sank my clawed hand into his face and ripped his damn eye out.
Pity he only had one.
Gasping for air, I flopped after the landwalker girl, hauling myself over the railing and leaping into the safety of the ocean just as the blinded captain’s screams of terror began to rouse the rest of the crew.
—————-
She was alive, but barely.
She drifted limply down as she sank, and I caught a glimpse of her dark mop of hair just as my body hit the surface.
It felt wonderful to be in the ocean again.
But I didn’t have the luxury of time to enjoy it.
For the very same water that gave me life, that breathed and lived in, was slowly choking the life out of her. Oh the painful irony.
I pumped my tail as fast as I could, with my usual speed and grace that I was denied of on land, and in the blink of an eye I grasped her around her waist and began to pull her up.
She broke the surface gasping and choking, desperate for the air as desperate I was for the water, clinging onto me as tightly as she could  as I held her above the surface, allowing her to catch a few breaths. She clung onto me tightly, sputtering, as we swam away from the wretched boat that had been our prison, and the captain’s screams of pain and rage faded away into the distance.
Once we had cleared enough distance we stopped at the shallows, next to a small island that jutted out from beyond the reef. It was small and deserted, but it was a place for her to be safe until she was rescued.
As we bobbed in the clear green waters, she spoke.
“Thank you for saving me. Again.”
With a smile, I gazed at her and pointed downwards. She seemed to get the message, taking a deep breath and dipping her head below the water.
And now that I was under water, now that I could breathe once more, I was finally able to speak again.
“Thank you,” I told her.
67 notes · View notes