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sincerlyus · 9 months ago

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Reverse Falls!!

Soo this is my take on Reverse Falls!! I don't really know which are the original designs or which are the new personalities that each character adapts, so I made my own headcanons!! :3

It should be noted that there are characters who do not change personalities with anyone, but rather their personalities are more exaggerated or are opposite to the originals. Or (in the case of McGucket) their relationships are different so they change their way of being progressively.

EXPLANATION TIME:

This is quite long, I'm going to explain the personalities of each one and how they relate to various characters. Credits to: hours of daydreaming and Google Translate (TW: child abuse, emotional and physical abuse, homophobia, classism. I don't know if there's anything else, just in case)

Pacifica Northwest: Outgoing and very expressive. She didn't know Gideon very well until her parents sent her to Reverse Falls. She likes to knit, draw, and has a lot of stuffed animals. She has a lot of hair, and likes to do different hairstyles every day ("to be innovative"), cries when she has to cut it. She is very affectionate with Gideon and tries to get him out of his shell. She is a little insecure, but likes to see the positive side of things. She gets along very well with Bud, although sometimes she feels he is a little weird. Symbol: Llama (on her sweater)

Gideon Gleefull: Insecure, has little self-confidence, very skittish and anxious. Has a habit of chewing when he is thinking, like OG!Dipper (chewing on pens, his shirt, etc.). He didn't really know how to talk to Paz at first since the first time they met they were very little, what was she going to say?, was a "Hello" enough?, a handshake?, a complicated handshake?, was she going to ignore him? Paz simply gave him a big hug when she got off the bus (+ gave him a sweater she made on the way). Symbol: Telepathy star (in his hat)

Bud Gleefull: Ultimate scammer. Very friendly and funny, although sometimes a little intimidating. Bye Hawaiian shirts. Very patient with Gideon. He is basically the “cool uncle/dad”. He put Paz to work the day she arrived, although he became attached very quickly and gave her family privileges (he does the same with Gideon).

Mason “Dipper” Pines: He is still very insecure but is able to feign confidence when standing on stage with his sister. He still has a lot of passion for science, he is not very affectionate, he holds back his emotions as he does not want to look vulnerable, especially in front of Stanford. He has a lot of respect for Ford (or rather, fear), being his apprentice he sees him more as a teacher, a superior figure than as an uncle; however he has very little respect for Stan, threatening him and making fun of him. He does not usually use his amulet much, only to practice tricks or in his shows. He has a very distant relationship with his sister, similar to that of the Stan twins. They have many disagreements, but they still have each other's back, especially when Ford is aggressive with one of them. The most sincere relationship he has is with F, although he still treats him like an employee, knowing that he was one of the brilliant minds behind the portal he respects him. Sometimes he discusses theories and shares discoveries with him (although he is embarrassed to think that his only "friend" is an employee of his uncle). Once he met Gideon and Paz, he was able to show his more fragile side and be himself, although he doesn't consider them completely friends (that changes post-weirdmageddon). Symbol: Pine tree (a small pin)

Mabel Pines: A spoiled brat, basically. She's very charming and friendly on stage and with guests at the Pines' many parties, but she's very whiny and selfish behind the scenes. She's not at all affectionate, to the point that she hates physical contact, especially if it's from townspeople. She resents her brother a lot for being Ford's "favorite" (he doesn't really have favorites, he's just less strict with Dipper because he's useful to him). She's Stan's spoiled child, giving her what she wants when she wants it (they have a nice relationship actually, Stan being one of the only ones who comforts her when she's sad). Instead of knitting, she likes to design her own dresses and accessories for shows and parties (her guilty pleasure is arts & crafts, since it's a very "childish" activity for a Pines). Obsessed with Paz, but learns to respect her limits throughout the story. Symbol: Shooting Star (a small pin)

Stanley Pines: He basically swaps personalities with Bud, runs the Telepathy Tent, is very friendly, and is scared of his brother and the twins. He never gets involved in Ford's experiments, having a very tense relationship with him. He loves the twins very much but knowing the power they have with those amulets he prefers to go along with them and not question too much what they ask (he knows when to be firm but the one who really has an impact on them and can make them see reason is Ford). Symbol: Oyster(?? (on a necklace)

Stanford F. Pines: Did you think OG! Ford was a jerk? Well now he's twice as much! He doesn't have an ounce of empathy in him, he's very narcissistic and only cares about his projects and his image. He doesn't care at all about the twins, only seeing them as a way to make money, demanding the most out of them, and he doesn't hesitate to use violence if any of them get out of line. He's very distant with Stanley, speaking to him very dryly (or rather, barely speaking to him at all). He's almost a hermit, living in his laboratory, not letting the townspeople get to know him; although unlike OG! Ford, he cares a lot about how he presents himself in front of the public, taking care of his image and clothing. He's very demanding with Mabel, as he feels she's nothing more than a spoiled child, the image of the Telepathy Tent along with her brother. He is a bit kinder to Dipper, as he realizes that he has a brilliant mind for his age (though not more so than his own), so he includes him in many of his experiments and research if he proves useful; but excluding that, he is just as insensitive as he is with his twin, mistreating him if he does not comply with what is due. His relationship with McGucket is kinda weird: although they were friends in college, the power that Bill/Will offered him completely consumed him, being abusive to F, forcing him to work long nights, keeping him awake by force. He only sees him for his use: his great skill with mechanics (which Ford does not have, although he hates to mention it). Although he was in love with F while he was at Backupsmore, he currently has no romantic feelings towards him, considering him an employee, his assistant, nothing more. He has internalized homophobia (a gift from Filbrick) and classism, so he hates to remember when his relationship with F was one of equals, friends. It disgusts him to think about when he would get so emotional around him. Symbol: Six Fingered Hand (the diaries)

Fiddleford H. McGucket: He is still the brilliant mind he was in his youth, but stress eats him alive. He started to age very quickly thanks to it. He invented the memory gun to try to forget all the horrible things he witnessed or that Ford made him suffer, but his boss doesn't allow him to use it too much since it can damage his mental health and erase knowledge, making him less efficient and useful. He doesn't have a very deep relationship with Stanley, since he practically lives in the lab where Ford forces him to work, but they are able to talk whenever F has a break (almost never). He can't stand the twins too much, not only because he feels that they are very annoying, but because the simple presence of children in his day to day life reminds him a lot of Tate, with whom he no longer has contact. Everyone knows about the abusive relationship he has with Stanford, they are not indifferent to it but they try not to mention it or get involved in his affairs (practically out of fear of Ford). Throughout his stay with Stanford he started developing an emotional dependence on him: not only did he make him feel that he was useless without him, but he uses violence on him when he is not fulfilling his duty, causing F to blame himself when this happens (What did he do wrong? What can he do to improve?). This got to the point where he started to hurt himself when he did not do something right. Ex: hitting himself when he noticed that his leg was bouncing in front of his anxiety (something that bothers Ford a lot), pulling out clumps of hair in front of the stress of not being able to achieve something, biting his nails, scratching himself, hitting his head (imagine Dobby from HP). Such actions and the mixed feelings he had towards Ford, made him develop masochism, enjoying when he inflicts pain on himself and when he is the victim of Ford's physical and psychological abuse, he clearly hid this for a while since it would look very unprofessional on his part. Eventually his boss found out and used this to his advantage, being quite sadist himself (he enjoys watching or inflicting pain and/or humiliation on others, in this case, he gets sexual pleasure). So every time Ford needs to let off some steam, vent his frustrations (or is just horny), he uses Fiddleford to fulfill his fantasies, making F's wishes come true as well. He basically uses him as a sex toy, and F doesn't complain, having suffered so much emotional manipulation, he even considers himself lucky that his boss wants to be with him like this, even if it's NOT healthy. Symbol: Spectacles

Bill Cipher: I don't like the idea of changing his name, so Bill stays. He's still the same chaotic demon as in the original series, but this time he's been tricked by Ford into working for him and doing his bidding. He's also forced to do the twins' bidding. We already know that Bill can change his shape and color, so I think all of his shame and self-pity manifests itself in his appearance, turning blue over time (any strong emotion makes him change his appearance). He manipulates Gideon and Paz, making them feel sorry for him so they'll do his bidding (it doesn't work, clearly). The people he has the most contact with are Ford and Fiddleford, as they spend most of their time in the basement where he's locked up.

So that's it. I don't really know how this timeline would work, considering the portal and the journals, but I just wanted to have fun with the character designs and relationships (I feel like the weirdmageddon would happen sooner than in the original timeline). If you want me to go deeper into certain relationships or characters, let me know!!(≧▽≦) I'll see if I can go deeper into the relationship between Ford and Fiddleford that you guys liked so much (you guys really like toxic yaoi, huh??). I'm thinking of making a fanfic or smt to explain their day to day life in the lab and how Ford invited F to work with him (SPOILER: it didn't go well...).

That's it ig, LIKE AND SUSCRIBE!!!1!!1!Σ(°ロ°)

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noctiva · 4 months ago

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Pincushion

Toby Rogers x F!Reader [NSFW!

WC: 6.7k

Summary: You’re an apprentice piercer trying to build your portfolio as much as you can. How lucky is it, that you have a best friend who can’t feel pain?

CW: 18+ content, descriptions of body parts being pierced, VERY improper piercing aftercare I’m being so fr don’t do this, friends to lovers, explicit sexual content, dry humping, oral sex (female receiving), possessiveness, dirty talk, hair pulling, drool and spit, cumming untouched

Reminder to separate reality from fiction! Some of the acts written here are definitely not recommended to imitate. Stay safe!

NSFW under the cut! Minors do not interact!

“I’m not k-keeping this one.”

The situation you found yourself in right now right now was a familiar one. Sat on your best friend Toby’s lap, the backs of your thighs pressed to his in the warmth of his bedroom. A soft rock song droned on from the speakers of his old record player, creating an inviting atmosphere that warded off uncomfortable silence.

A golden glow shines in through his bedroom window, curtains pulled back to reveal the slowly setting sun. You’re warm, cloaked in a hoodie that Toby had offered you when you were shivering before hand - basking in the softness and scent that cloaked you. Cheap cigarettes, musky cologne, pine.

It may have been a sweet sight, if not for the hollow needle pinched between your latex clad fingers.

Just inches from his face you held it, the victim in question looking up at you with a displeased expression.

A couple months ago, you had gotten a spot as an apprentice piercer at your town’s local tattoo shop. You had learned all of the safety measures, done all of the certification, so now the only thing left to do was practice. And well, you could only practice on yourself so many times.

You needed someone else. To be able to watch closely at every little thing you did, from the pinch of the clamp to the needle slicing through skin or cartilage. You needed real people, willing clients.

And well, Toby was one of those things.

It had been less than two hours after you got the gig before you were proposing the idea. With the world ‘please’ uttered more times than you could count, and the best puppy-dog eyes you could muster up - it still took weeks until you finally cracked him.

“Come on, Toby. At least let me pierce your ears. It can just be a little stud.” You had asked for the fiftieth time, to which he had responded with;

“Fuh-Fuck no. It’s not my style.”

“You think? I think you’d look pretty cute with them.”

You pierced his lobes later that day. Then, his septum a week later. Then his lip, eyebrow, and a few cartilage piercings spanning down the shell of his ear. He didn’t keep many, usually only letting them stay for long enough for you to snap a few photos for your portfolio - but he had taken a liking to a few.

One thin hoop pierced through his nostril, and the lobes you had done first. You thought that the eyebrow suited him the best, but he had tugged the barbell out just minutes after it was placed snug under his skin. Alas, at least you had photographic evidence that it had once been there.

After so many impromptu sessions, Toby just gotten used to you showing up at his house with a cheeky grin and piercing supplies in hand. Which, was exactly how you ended up on his lap on this particular evening.

“Yeah, didn’t expect you to.” You hum as you hand him a travel sized bottle of mouthwash to rinse with. “But I’ve never done this one before, so I’ve got to learn.” You smile at him. “Swish with that, then stick out your tongue.”

Toby legs out a groan, his eyebrows furrowed together in annoyance as he peers up at you. He had just woken up less than an hour ago - evidenced by his unruly hair and sleepy eyes - and now you were just seconds away from shoving a needle into his tongue. It wasn’t like he would feel it, but it wasn’t about that. It was about the prospect of it all.

What ever happened to just hanging out? Couldn’t you go one day without treating him like a pincushion?

If he was being completely honest, the only reason he hadn’t kicked you off of his lap yet was because he liked the feeling of you being there. Liked the warmth that seeped from your body into his. Liked being so close that he could hear each breath that left you lips. He liked the way you bit your bottom lip when you were focusing the best.

He also liked the way you let him rest a hand on your hip to keep you stable (which was an excuse he was still surprised that you believed).

He was your best friend, but you were his fixation. The most gorgeous woman he had ever laid eyes on, but he just didn’t have the guts to tell you. So, he settled for this. Keeping you held close whilst you stuck needles into his skin. Besides, he would much rather it was him than someone else.

So, he does what you’ve asked. Takes a swig of the mouthwash all whilst looking up at you with narrowed eyes, struggling to keep an annoyed expression while you were looking down at him so sweetly. All smiles and stars in your eyes. Hair pulled up haphazardly into a makeshift bun to keep the strand out of your face. Clad in his hoodie. His hoodie.

God, he was such a sucker.

Leaning his head to the side, he spits into the mug you had brought into his room for that exact purpose. Once that’s over with, as his mouth is coated in the taste of alcohol and mint, he looks back up at you. You were so close. Leaned in with a set of clamps in one hand and a needle in the other. So close he could smell you. Your perfume intermingling with the scent coming off of his sweater. His heart rate picks up just a little. “Y-You gonna pierce all your clients like-like this?” He asks with a soft chuckle, and you roll your eyes.

“Would probably get better tips if I did, but no.” You snort, shifting a bit on his lap. Now, his pulse is racing. He’s a lot less concerned about the needle inches from his face, than he is about popping an unwanted boner beneath you. “Hope you appreciate the special treatment you’re getting.” He did. Much more than you could imagine. “Now hurry up! Stick out your tongue for me, Rogers.”

He thinks he’s do anything for you if it was said in that sweet bossy tone you just used.

So, he lets out a breath through his nose, the does just what you ask. It’s mere seconds later that a clamp pinches his tongue.

Piercing Toby had its pros and cons. Pro: He couldn’t feel the pain, so he sat like a champ. An absolute dream for anyone in the industry. Con: His tics from his Tourette’s were completely involuntary, so you couldn’t exactly tell him to sit still and expect him to abide by that.

That was alright though. It just meant you had to learn to be quick. Your clients in the future would probably be thanking him for that learned skill.

You lean in close, sandwiching his tongue between the cold metal clamp and raising the needle. He’s looking up at you, fixated on your face as you bring the sharp point to the muscle.

All he feels is a slight pressure, then relief. The coldness of the needle lodged in his flesh. It was odd, but bearable. What wasn’t bearable, were the thoughts pinging around in his mind like popping candy. Did you know how pretty you were? Did you know that if you let him, he could count every freckle on your face and not once grow bored during it?

Did you know how he saw you? The blinding sun in the centre of his universe?

He doesn’t even realize you’ve slipped the jewelry in, until you’re screwing on the top ball. “There!” You grin, gazing down at his newly adorned tongue in satisfaction. “How’s it feel?”

Hot. He feels really hot.

“L-Like metal in my mouth.” He answers, frowning a little at the feeling of the piercing clinking against his teeth when he talks. It’s uncomfortable. This feels more like an intrusion than any other piercing you’ve ever given him. It couldn’t be ignored, making its presence known every time he formed a word. “It’s not st-staying. So, take a picture quick.”

“Boring.” You scoff, before sticking your tongue out at him playfully. You peel the latex gloves off of your hands before dropping them to the floor. “I think it looks good on you. Plus, the ladies would love it.”

Toby meets your eyes, and cocks an eyebrow.

“I d-doubt that.” He scoffs. He still had a hand on your hip from keeping you in place while you worked, but he hadn’t moved it yet. He didn’t think he could force himself to unless you told him to move.

“No, they totally would.” You argue, leaning back on his thighs. It was a shift that was actually in his favour, bringing your hips farther away from his. He definitely needed that distance. “It’s hot,” It was, or he was? “Plus it has benefits any girl would like.”

“B-Benefits?” He frowns, tilting his head to the side a little to observe you. Just what were you getting at here? Was this a joke? “Like what?”

You let out a little giggle, and bring a hand up to cover your mouth. It’s the sweetest sound that’s ever graced Toby’s ears. He’s already of thinking of ways to hear it again.

“You know.” You laugh, averting your gaze from his out of embarrassment. It’s not like you’ve never breached the topic of sexuality during a conversation in all of the years you’ve known each other, it’s just the look on his face that’s getting you. So clueless, it’s adorable. “Same reason guys like girls with tongue piercings.” You look back to him, and can tell he’s still not getting it. “More stimulation.”

Oh. Oh.

It’s instantaneous, the way a flush creeps onto his cheeks the moment your words register. If he was having a hard time restraining his thoughts before, he was putting in overtime now. Were you making this hard on him on purpose? Sitting on his lap, spouting about the sexual benefits of the piercing you had just given him?

It takes all the power in the world for him not to tighten the lazy grip he has on your hip.

“Says wh-who? He chokes out, voice coming out far hoarser than he meant it to. His tongue is starting to throb in his mouth, and he’s hopeful that his blood will stay up there and not migrate further south.

“Uh, everyone?” You laugh, raising an eyebrow at him. “It’s just like, a fact. Having a tongue piercing equals giving better head. How do you not know this?”

Uh, maybe because the only girl he’s thought about sexually in years was you? But maybe it would’ve been a good fact to know before you pierced him.

“Are you speaking f-from experience, or what?” He doesn’t know why he asked that. He doesn’t know what the fuck he’s saying right now, if he’s being honest. His brain was fried, coherent thoughts fizzling out before they came to fruition. And with his brain clocked out, that only left one other organ to think with. He was so screwed.

The way you look at him after he’s spoken has Toby wanting to bite his tongue clean off. Death would surely be better than you staring down at him, equal parts bewildered and shocked by his bold ask. He can’t even bring himself to try and backtrack and save face, because he feels like his throat is closing up. If there was an award for ‘World’s biggest dumbass’ he would’ve surely swept the floor with the competition.

“No.” You breathe out, face growing hot. Toby’s not any better - the pink tone dusting his cheeks beginning to creep down his neck. “I just… That’s what people say.”

“W-Would you want…” Shut the fuck up, Toby. Shut your idiotic mouth. “Would you ever want t-to try it?” He’s done for. Might as well just throw in the towel now.

He must be speaking with his dick, because if these thoughts were filtering through his brain at all they would’ve stayed tucked far away where you could never hear them. But he was saying them to you, right in your face, just inches from you. He hasn’t a semblance of a clue where this boldness was coming from, but just he knew it would be his undoing.

Hopefully his frazzled mind could figure out a way to leave this interaction not looking like the horny freak he was deep down.

“Would I want to?” You repeat back to him, your tongue feeling heavy as you speak the words. Why was it so hot all of a sudden? And why could you suddenly only focus on the feeling of Toby’s hand on your waist? Before, you had barely even registered it being there. Now, it was all you could feel. “I mean like, yeah.” You murmur sheepishly. “If the opportunity presented itself.”

Toby’s eyes quickly lock in on the pretty pink hue slowly spreading across your cheeks and up to the tips of your ears. You were avoiding his gaze like the plague, and you just kept fidgeting. Were you embarrassed? Uncomfortable? Had he taken it too far?

He watches as you tug the sleeves of his hoodie over your hands, and curl your fingers into fists. “Also I… I don’t know anyone who has one.”

Was that bait? It sounded like bait. So much so that Toby’s eyes immediately flick upwards to scan your face. You were still blushing, darker now, eyes fixated on the wall behind him like it was the most fascinating thing in the world.

He knows. He knows he shouldn’t push. But his tongue is pulsing in his mouth, and his dick is coming to life in his jeans, so he’s feeling just a tad compromised. Besides, if you wrote him off he could just act like he was joking. That always worked with you.

“You know me.” Toby murmurs the words softly, almost like he’s hoping you won’t hear it. But, you’re so close that the probability of that is slim to none.

You hear it alright, gaze snapping to his the moment the sound of his voice reaches your ears.

“What… What are you saying?” You ask hesitantly, forcing the words out of your lungs. You know what he’s saying. You know exactly what he means, and yet actually accepting that fact is a lot harder than he probably realizes. He was joking, right? Because there was just no way Toby would offer what he just did to you, of all people.

He… You were his best friend, right? Nothing more, nothing less. That is, unless that was just you being blind and ignorant. Maybe his always lingering touches meant something. Maybe there was a reason he so easily abided to your every whim and suggestion.

“W-Whatever you think I’m saying.” Toby shrugs, and you feel it when his grip on your hip tightens just minutely. Enough for you to really feel it - the pressure of his fingers through your clothes. You’re suddenly acutely aware of every point of contact where your body met his. Your thighs against his, his hand on your waist. Chests so close it would be an ease to close the distance.

You could feel the warmth radiating off of him, but it was nothing compared to the heat in his eyes. Those chocolate brown irises were blazing. Thinly veiled desire waging a war within them, trying to burst free.

God, had you ever had anyone look at you like that?

“But that… That would be weird.” You laugh sheepishly, despite the fact that your mind was already conjuring up ideas of how it would go down.

Toby’s calloused hands on your thighs, pushing your legs apart and holding them open. That fluffy mess of brown hair, begging for you to tug on it as he parted his lips and-

“W-Would it?” Toby asks, voice lower than before. He reaches up with his free hand, and grasps your chin oh so gently between two fingers. Then he’s turning your head towards him, leaving your gaze nowhere to run as he holds you in place. “Why would it b-be?”

He was in far too deep to back down now, and he was quite sure you didn’t want him to anyway. He could see it, the look in your eyes, how your pupils had dilated more with each word he spoke. You were so receptive, but were holding yourself back. He just had to give you a little push.

“Because.” You mutter, swallowing thickly. You feel like you’re drowning in his eyes, your heart thudding so loud you’re almost convinced it’s migrated to your ears. “Because we’re friends.”

You watch as Toby’s lips purse, a look of something flashing in his irises. Irritation. Maybe a little bit of impatience.

“I’m y-your friend.” He breathes out after a few moments, giving you a few beats to really think about you’ve said before he responds. Just friends. Were you really? You had the potential to be so much more. “You’re s-so much more to me than that, though.”

The hand on your waist slips around you, his forearm wrapping around your torso as he draws you in closer. There’s no excuses now. He didn’t want there to be. “You’re e-everything. Have been since the d-day I met you.” Toby tilts your head downwards, and it’s almost maddening how easily your body bends to his will. Easily conceding. Just letting him push and pull you into whatever position he saw fit. “B-But I didn’t wanna scare you o-off.”

He leans in, close enough that his nose is nearly brushing yours, his gaze still unwavering. You can see the glint of metal in his mouth everytime he speaks. “So I s-sat back. Sat back and watched you f-fuck around with guys that would never have what it takes to t-treat you right.” Your breath hitches, catching in your throat. “Because they don’t know you. N-Not like I do.”

He tugs you in closer, and you can’t help the gasp that leaves you when your hips press against his. You can feel the bulge he’s sporting now, snug against your clothed heat as he looks you right in the eyes. “No one knows you like I-I do.”

And you can’t argue, because you know he’s right. Toby had been the only constant in your life for as long as you could remember. Always close by, always keeping an eye. Making sure you’re safe, happy, cared for. He was also funny, sweet, and handsome in a rugged way. Ergo, clearly the best option, but one you had never considered up until now.

Not because you hadn’t ever thought about it, but more so for fear of ruining what you held dear. Things were fine as they were, so why push it?

You think it over for a total of less than a second before you shift, pressing your hips to his with a lot more intention. Because this feels better. That’s why. Toby lets out a little hiss through his teeth when you notch your hips forwards, his own jolting instinctively at the contact. Your eyes were brimming with a mixture of emotions, mostly shyness and nervousness - but the desire was shining through clear as day. You wanted this. Wanted him.

God, this stupid piercing was so fucking worth it. “No one else knows what s-scares you, excites you.” He trails his hand down your jaw, then your side, letting it find a home resting right above your hipbone as he tugs you down against him again. Gently. Just coaxing you. Taking it at whatever pace you need. “No one else k-knows what makes you laugh. O-Or the way your eyes light up when something makes you ha-happy. No one but me.” You hesitantly roll your hips downwards, feeling your cheeks heat up at the sensation.

You can really feel him now, just growing harder beneath you with each movement you make. Can feel the shape of him, the size of him - large enough to make your heart jump. “I-Isn’t that right?” He’s dipped his head down lower, brought his lips close to your ear so that you can feel the heat of his breath when he speaks. Goosebumps prickle your skin, and it’s getting harder to ignore the warmth creeping down between your thighs.

“Yeah.” You breathe, voice soft and trembling. Toby lets out a little hum of agreement at your answer, and then you feel him hesitate for just a moment before he leans in closer. He does it anyway, pressing his lips against the skin just below your ear. So gentle of a touch you can barely feel it, but it’s enough to send your body into a frenzy.

“S-So it only makes sense that I’d treat you b-best, right?” His lips brush against your ear as he speaks. You’re moving completely of your own volition now - slow rolls down against his lap, dragging your clothed core against the outline of his length. There are butterflies in your stomach, fluttering lower and lower to make your cunt throb against him. You wonder if he can feel it. “I-I’d make it my life’s mission to make you happy.” He murmurs as his grip on you tightens, hips bucking up to meet yours. His breathing has grown heavier and so has yours, soft huffs of air, quivering on exhale. “Y-You’d never cry. Not unless i-it was from somethin’ good.”

Toby rocks you against him, keeping you snug against his chest - all personal space lost. “I-I’d worship you.” He breathes, biting back a groan. “D-Do anything you want. W-Why wouldn’t you want that?”

Good question. Why wouldn’t you?

“I do.” You choke out, eyes fluttering as he pulls you down against him once more. Soft, slows rocks of your hips turning into something much more insistent. He would swear he could feel your heat permeating through your clothes. Just the idea of you growing wet above him right now was enough to make his cock twitch.

“Yeah, you d-do?” He asks, nuzzling into your hair as you move against him. Drowning in your scent. In all of the little sounds you were trying to bite back. “You’ll let me treat you how you d-deserve?”

“Mhm.” You nod back mindlessly, reaching up to grip at the front of his t-shirt - curling your fingers into the fabric. This is good. Really good. The feeling of having Toby so close. The friction of your panties rubbing against your clit every time your hips met his. His hands on you. His breath on your neck.

You were baffled as to how you denied yourself or this for so long? You could’ve had this all along? God, were you stupid.

“God-“ Toby breathes out in a quivering voice. Then, in one swift movement he’s standing and bringing you with him. Arms snaking under your thighs, holding you against him with almost mind-boggling ease as he walks you back towards his bed. It’s messy, blankets strewn around from when he had woken up to the sound of you knocking on his door.

A fact that he had been a little embarrassed about when you first arrived, but he couldn’t care less now. If things went his way, it was going to be an even bigger mess by the time he was done with you.

He lowers you down on his sheets gently, then climbing over you mere seconds later. Blanketing you with his body as he leans down to press his lips to your neck. Toby had thought about this very scenario numerous times. Jerked off to the idea far more times than he would ever admit. You beneath him, all soft and willing. Pulling him in close, hips bucking up towards his impatiently.

His imagination didn’t do the real thing justice at all. You were addictive. The feeling of your fingers weaving into his hair was one he’d never forget, nails scratching against his scalp as he left open mouthed kisses against your neck.

In the back of his mind, he could feel his tongue throbbing. His fresh piercing obviously not too keen on the treatment it was receiving as he licked and nipped at your skin. He couldn’t give less of a damn right now. His tongue could fucking fall off after all this, for all he cared, just so long as he got to taste you first.

Toby’s hands slip under the sweater and up your torso as he swirls his tongue against your collarbone, and he’s nearly moaning from the taste of your skin alone. He can’t think. Couldn’t form a coherent thought if he tried right now, all he could do was meld into you - a slave to his own desires as his palms make their way downwards again, fingers curling under the waistband of your shorts.

He pauses, as if to silently ask for permission, and you’re nodding before you can even think twice about it. Breathing out ‘please’ before you can cringe at how desperate you sound.

You could worry about everything else later. What this meant, where you’d go from it afterwards, if he truly meant everything he had said. None of that mattered right now. You just needed him.

Despite his eagerness, he pulls your shorts off gently. Slowly. Letting you feel the drag of his fingers on the outsides of your thighs as he tugs the material down. He creates a trail of goosebumps against your soft skin, a sight that has a shiver going down his spine. You hear him curse under his breath before he’s ducking his head back down again.

Tugging your sweater up but not all the way off, he presses his lips to the valley between your breasts. Nuzzling into the cleavage that your bra presented to him to beautifully. He thinks he could live there, if you let him, but not today. Today, he has other plans.

Another kiss, to your sternum. Then another a few inches down. It’s only once his lips meet your belly button, that you realize what his destination is.

“Toby-“ You lean up onto your elbows, watching him with hazy eyes as he mouths against your hipbone - toying with the hem of your panties with his teeth. His eyes flit up to meet yours, pupils blown wide. You’re pretty sure you look quite the same when he catches the waistband between his canines and tugs on it. “Your tongue, you can’t-“

“Won’t feel it. D-Doesn’t matter.” He cuts you off, bringing his hands down to cup the backs of your thighs. Callouses against smooth skin, gently spreading you open wider.

“That’s not the issue.” You argue, hips twitching when releases the fabric in his teeth with a snap against your skin. “You know how unsafe that is? It’ll get infected.”

“L-Let it. I don’t g-give a fuck.” His nails bite into your skin, fingers pressing deep into the supple flesh. “I’ve fuh-fuckin’ dreamt about this pussy.” As if to enunciate his point, he closes the gap between his face and your core - pressing his nose against the dampened fabric with a moan. You jolt, hips leaving the bed for a second from the sudden stimulation against your throbbing clit. “I need to taste you. P-Please.” His lips part before you can even speak next, his darting out to drag flat against clothed folds.

And you think, it would take a lot stronger of a woman than you to refuse him. Nestled between your thighs, face flushed and eyes hazy as he mouths at your heat through your panties.

It’s a bad idea and you know it is, but he’s literally begging you. Begging for you in a way no man had ever done for you before. He was right, he would treat you better.

And so - disregarding pretty much the number one rule after getting an oral piercing, and spitting in the face of all the training you did - you nod. Small, and shaky, but that’s all Toby needs. “A-Ah, thank you.” He murmurs against you, fingers coming up to grab at the thin material hugging your hips.

He pulls it down a lot quicker than he had your shorts, desperation obviously getting the best of him. That was okay though, because his blazing desire for you was only making you wetter. A sight that he got a prime view of once your underwear was completely discarded - thrown off into some corner of his bedroom. “So puh-pretty.” Toby murmurs in awe, before bringing a hand down to swipe his fingers through your slickness. You can hear it when his breath hitches. “And s-so wet for me.” He spreads his fingers, parting your folds and exposing you fully - fixated on the sight of your core like he had just seen god himself.

He might as well have, with the effect you have on him. His entire body feels like it’s on fire, rock hard length pulsing against the confines of his jeans. Only once it drips down against you, does he notice that he’s drooling. Literally drooling over your pussy.

Such a mess for you, but he couldn’t care less. “S-So fucking pretty.” He repeats again in a breathless whisper, and then he’s diving in.

Your entire body jolts when his tongue meets your cunt - licking a long, flat stripe from bottom to top. You couldn’t even attempt to hold back the moan that elicited, body arching up from the bed as tingles shoot up your spine.

You can feel it. You can feel the hard metal of his piercing, pressing against your clit when he repeats the action. And the rumours were right. That felt fucking divine. It added the perfect amount of pressure, the jewelry rolling against you with each flick of his tongue. He laps at you a few times, dipping into your folds, savouring the taste of you flooding his tastebuds.

You were so sweet. So sweet that even though his cock is aching in his jeans, but he pays it no mind. He just needed this, your pussy flush against his face, and he’d be satisfied. The tip of his tongue swipes through your slick, and then his lips are circling around your clit - giving it all the love it deserved.

Your hand flies downwards, fisting into his hair with a grip you know would be painful if he could feel it. But you couldn’t help it. He was eating you out like a starving dog, slurping up every drop of slick that left you. “S-So fuckin’ good.” He slurs against you, taking in a quivering breath before he prods his tongue at your entrance.

It the only warning you get before the warm muscle is sliding inside you.

“F-Fuck, Toby-“ You cry, tugging him in closer by the hair - an action that makes him let out a gravelly moan into you. Hot, slick muscle slides against your quivering walls - the top ball of his piercing dragging against the sensitive flesh. It makes you genuinely see stars, vision going blurry as his tongue works inside you. “You- Fuck! It’s so good.”

He honestly didn’t think he could get more turned on than he already was right now, but the sound of your voice? Yeah, that did it. You sounded fucking sinful. Gasped out, strained words. Voice so high pitched and pretty. And the moans that were slipping out now too? He needed to hear more. Needed to hear you moan your little heart out until your throat went raw.

His fingers claw at your thighs, and now he’s tugging them apart wider, giving himself ample room to devour you completely. His tongue thrusts into you, nose bumping against your clit, the entire bottom half of his face shining with a combination of your slick and his drool. But he just couldn’t stop. He wouldn’t. Not until you were begging him to.

He leans forwards more, practically burying his face in your cunt. As he does, his hips shift, his neglected cock brushing against the bed through his jeans. And by now, he’s so agonizingly worked up that just that small bit of friction has him letting out a gravelly moan right against your twitching core.

He lapping you up like he had been starving for it, and quite honestly, he was. He had been, for a long, long time. He feels almost dizzy from it, so drunk on you that his mind was going hazy.

And you? Well, you’re having a hard time not completely melting into his bed. You can barely breathe between moans. Tingles of pleasure are making your thighs twitch and tremble but Toby keeps them held open right where he wants them. You’re burning up, slick with sweat. You had thought about tugging the sweater off of you, but being enveloped in his scent was just getting you higher.

His tongue leaves you, and then he’s back to abusing your clit again - flicking his pierced tongue against the swollen nub. He can feel it throbbing, and he knows he’s getting you right where he wants you to be.

He sucks on you gently, rubbing the metal in his mouth against the sensitive flesh - a sensation that has you damn near sobbing. A sound that he wants to hear over and over again, so he doubles his efforts.

One hand leaves your thigh (in its wake, five crescent shaped indents in your skin) to move lower downwards instead. His tongue drags flat against your clit as he slips a finger inside you.

Just when you thought it couldn’t get any better.

He pumps it into you in time with the flick of his tongue, curling it gently as he tries to find the spot that would make you cry out for him again. Once, twice, three times he tries, and then- “Ah!” Found it.

The way you tightened up around him made his mind go fuzzy, imagining just how perfect you’d feel around his cock instead. You were already so tight, wet, and warm around his finger - which was just a taste. He’d probably cum before he even got an inch inside.

Speaking of, he was trying not to right now. Without even realizing it, ever since that first brush of the mattress against his length, he had been absentmindedly grinding down against his while keeping his tongue occupied. He needed something, anything, but he just couldn’t bring himself to tear his mouth away from you. He might not ever get enough.

And so, he’s left humping his own mattress like a damn dog, downright whorish groans vibrating against you everytime he brings his hips down. If he had any rationality left, he’d realize how humiliating the entire scenario was, but his mind was too far gone. Turned to mush by you and that holy treasure between your legs. “Toby-“ He hears you gasp again, and his name has never sounded better. You made it sound like gospel as you breathed it out, all needy and overwhelmed.

The warmth brewing in your gut was getting to be too much to bear, building and building into a heat that was all-consuming. You’re so close you can taste it, gripping his hair so tight that you’re almost worried you might rip some of the strands out.

Toby can feel it when your pleasure starts to crest, your walls convulsing around his finger as he laps at your clit. It just spurs him on more, knowing that he can take you there. That you’re crying out for him. Clutching at him as your thighs shake.

He feels like he’s on top of the world. He feels euphoric. He feels like…

…Like he’s cumming.

It hits him with no warning, unannounced, right as you let out a broken cry and arch up off of the bed. He’s moaning into you as you gush into his mouth, hot slick that has his eyes rolling back as a wet, sticky warmth blooms in his boxers.

His free hand claws at your thigh, his hips hopelessly rutting against the bed to ride out the high as you buck up into his mouth. Pulsing and twitching against his tongue. Still, he couldn’t get enough. With pleasure sizzling through every nerve in his body, the taste of you was just heightening it. Making his hips twitch and his whole body tremble as he borderline sobs into your pussy, lapping up every drop of your release.

It’s only once your shaky hands start pushing his head away from your way too sensitive clit, does he relent.

It takes a few long moments for either of you to come back down to earth.

Toby’s left with his cheek pressed against your thigh, stubble scratching the soft skin as he gasps for air - trying to catch his breath. His eyes are drooped closed; cheeks flushed, hair in disarray, with his mouth and chin glistening with a combination of his spit and your release. He’s trembling slightly, you can feel it, still grasping your thigh like it would kill him to let go.

Through your hazy eyes, and brain still mushy from the afterglow of your orgasm, you think he might just be the most lovely thing you’ve ever seen.

You weakly tug at his hair, making his eyes flutter open to look up at you dreamily. “C’mere.” You murmur tiredly. “Wouldn’t be fair if I’m the only one who came.”

Toby blinks up at you and his face flushes an even deeper pink as he fumbles for what to say next. You hadn’t noticed? Well, maybe he couldn’t blame you for being too caught up in your own pleasure. He opens and closes his mouth a few times, gaping at you like a fish out of water before he’s mumbling out;

“Y-You weren’t.” He smiles at you sheepishly, blush spreading upwards to dust the tips of his ears rosy as well. “I’m g-good.”

Your lips part, eyes widening as his words sink in. Once the realization hits, a whole new wave of heat washes over your entire body. He had..? Just from..? You almost couldn’t wrap your head around it.

But when his hand reaches down to adjust his jeans, and you notice his expression twist into one of embarrassed discomfort - you know he’s not lying. “T-Tried not to, but… I don’t know. You d-do things to me.”

Clearly.

You let out a little disbelieving laugh, then trailing your hand down the side of his face to caress his cheek. The way he leans into your touch immediately has your heart slipping a beat. He was so perfect it was almost uncanny.

But of course, rationality had to come back into play eventually.

“Oh shit.” You breathe, pulling your hand back so that you could prop yourself up on your elbows as you gazed down at him - expression becoming wrinkled with worry. “How’s your tongue?”

Toby blinks up at you, like he had also forgotten about how carelessly he had treated the fresh wound in his mouth, before shrugging his shoulders and sticking his tongue out for you to observe.

Swollen and angry. That’s the best way you could describe the sight of the once portfolio-worthy piercing you had just done on him. His tongue was definitely irritated beyond belief, a painful looking shade of red coating the entire thing. “You’re fucked.” You murmur, brows pinching together. “Toby… That’s definitely getting infected.”

Again, Toby shrugs.

“W-Worth it.”

You were right, of course. Toby woke up the next morning with a tongue so swollen he could barely open his mouth. A sight that had you rubbing your temples in disbelief, and him still somehow managing a cocky grin

He managed to save it, with both his and your efforts combined (and antibiotics, and a lot of mouthwash, and ice cubes). It luckily only took about a week for the irritation to subside.

Which was good, because he was definitely keeping this one.

—————————————————————————☆

looked at my own tongue piercing in the mirror and went ‘What if Toby…’ and now here we are.

thanks for reading! ♡

#toby rogers x reader #ticci toby x reader #ticci toby x you #toby rogers smut #ticci toby smut #creepypasta x female reader #creepypasta x reader #creepypasta x you #creepypasta headcanon #toby rogers #ticci toby #creepypasta

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lonely-shine · 2 years ago

Note

100 for shell x jules x asra hehehe

100. Make a meme of this ship.

Taking in mind I was trying to be quick, this took more time than I want to admit, but here it is:

If you find any mistakes no you have not

Anyway, thanks for providing me with the opportunity to draw this xD

#shine answers #ask #ask game #the arcana #the arcana game #the arcana asra #the arcana julian #the arcana apprentice #asra alnazar #julian devorak #apprentice shell #ot3 #polyamory #meme #shitpost #art #digital art

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darkbluekies · 9 months ago

Note

Dr kry x nurse reader

Like imagine nurse reader was college student wanted to be a nurse to learn some medicine or help people sick and taking care old people

Sea sick

Doctor!yandere OC x nurse!reader

Summary: being the only one to be granted as Dr Kry’s apprentice on board a hospital ship ends in tragedy

Warning: yandere, sinking ships (fictional ship and incident), poisoning, indirect killing, mentions of dead bodies and autopsies, blood, sharp objects

Word count: 8k

A/N: a lot of people hav wanted a story where darling is a nurse and I have tried writing it so many times over a year, but haven't been able yo. So I tried changing location and it seemed to work, so it is not exactly what was asked, but I hope that it is enjoyable anyway!

He stands on the promenade deck, watching out over the harbor, breathing in the fresh air. People carried on stretchers catch his eyes.

He used to get sea sick during his first weeks out at sea. There was something about how the ship rocked back and forth during the stormy days that made his stomach turn inside out and want to eject the food he had eaten. But now that he's been here for three months, it's barely noticeable. He hasn't thrown up for three weeks. A new record.

He has grown to like the rocking motion of the sea, but doesn’t care much for the people he shares the ship with. The female nurses try to invite him into their cabins, the male nurses fight over who will be his apprentice and the doctors either watch him with jealousy or ignore him. It’s only for a few more months, until he has saved up enough money. Until everything is over.

They’ve just picked up a town hall full amount of wounded soldiers and new nurses. Doctor Kry has heard that his new trainee will be among them. He scans the crowd of people walking towards the gangway, trying to guess which one will be his to deal with. He hopes that they are obedient — he has no interest in scolding them — and that they aren’t stupid.

“Watching the fresh blood?” a voice asks.

He turns to the side to see one of the other doctors coming out to look at the new herd. Doctor Hart is an asshole, always in everyone’s business. One could almost think that he was getting paid for it.

“You could say that”, Doctor Kry replies shortly.

“How many dead, do you think?”

Doctor Kry let his eyes wander over the crowd below.

“Fifty, maybe”, he says.

It’s a cruel game, he knows that, to guess how many won’t survive the trip to the mainland. But he doesn’t know how to converse with the other doctors unless he joins in on their sad games.

Sometimes, he plays with the nurses out on deck. There’s all sorts of games tucked away in boxes, ready to be taken out whenever.

“I heard that your trainee will be among those”, Doctor Hart says and nods down at the group of waiting people. “Who’s the lucky one?”

“I don’t know”, Doctor Kry replies shortly and stops leaning on the railing. “I should go find out.”

He doesn’t wait to hear the reply. He’s not sure where to go for his trainee to find him, but he decides to go to his cabin — if not to be at a static place, then to get away from everyone. Him getting a trainee must be the only hot topic they have.

He navigates the white naked steel corridors to get to his cabin. It’s hard to believe that this naked ship should be covered with polished oak panels, golden details and expensive paintings. None of that can be afforded to be lost, in case the ship is sunk.

They have lifeboat drills every morning to make sure that everyone on board knows what to do. Since they rotate staff often, those drills need to be done. They’re boring, but handy.

The ship is nothing more than an empty shell of what she’s supposed to be, stripped of anything that gives her personality. All that’s left is bare necessities, nothing for pleasure.

He opens his door and walks in. The room is small and only contains a bed and a desk, the walls bare steel. It has a rectangular window overlooking the forecastle and he can’t help but think that he has gotten one of the best cabins on the ship. He knows that doctors, officers — both military and ship — and a handful of passengers, get better cabins than the wounded or nurses.

Doctor Kry sits down by the table and opens his notebook to write. He has time to finish two pages before there is a knock on the door. It’s a drastic knock, as if the person on the other side of the door is either nervous or eagerly excited. He stands up, not knowing what to expect as he opens the door. Outside stands a young thing, with their hands clasped in front of them. You take him by surprise. You’re not what he expected — but then again, what had he been expecting?

“Are you Doctor Kry?” you ask.

“Yes, I am”, he replies.

“I’m told that I am your apprentice.”

He lets his eyes wander over you. You seem so … small? You’re younger than he had thought, and there’s something naive about you. He can’t help but wonder what events has led you to end up here.

He realizes that he can’t have you standing out in the corridor forever and steps aside, gesturing for you to come in. You walk past him into the small room and look around.

“You have a better cabin than I do”, you say with a small — nervous — laugh, as if to bring some kind of humanity into the conversation. It’s as if you want to skip right past the awkward small talk. You grimace. “I have to share a cabin with five others. We only have a small porthole.”

Doctor Kry closes the door.

“What’s your name?” he asks.

“Oh, sorry”, you reply quickly, eyes widening with realization. “Y/N.”

Doctor Kry can’t help but tug at the corner of his lips.

“Are you always this light-headed, Y/N?” he asks.

You look down in embarrassment.

“No, doctor”, you say. “I am just nervous. I haven’t done anything like this before. Sorry, doctor.”

“Sit down.”

You look around for somewhere to sit and end up on his neatly fixed bed. Doctor Kry sits down on his chair by his desk. You fiddle with your hands in your lap as your eyes follow him.

“You’re going to be my trainee, which means that you have to listen to me at all times”, Doctor Kry says. “The medical field is a profession that requires precision. One faulty move and someone could die. Is that clear?”

“Yes, doctor.”

“I’m responsible for you, so I don’t want you doing anything stupid, do you get that? No breaking rules, no stupid behavior.”

“Yes, doctor.”

He stretches his neck.

“This doesn’t have to do with you but I will tell you this anyway, in case it should occur”, he says stiffly. “If any of the other nurses give you any trouble, you’ll come tell me right away, understood?”

“Yes doctor”, you reply.

“Good. In that case, let's get started. A lot of people have boarded the ship today, and we need to check up on them. You might have thought that you’d get a day to settle in, but that’s not how we do things here. On board, things can happen at any hour of the day and you need to be prepared.”

You nod.

“Good”, he says, pleased. “Let’s go then, we have work to do.”

When he stands, so do you. He walks towards the door and so do you. You follow him through the corridors like a puppy, in silence. You don’t say anything. Maybe this will work for him after all?

You come out to the main staircase, a pathetic excuse of what it should be, and walk up a flight of stairs. What should be the lounge is now an operating theater and bedroom to wounded soldiers. He can hear you draw a breath as you walk in. The smell must hit you, he guesses, the smell of pain and blood.

You follow him around the open room as he talks to different men and women who have all kinds of painful injuries and sickness symptoms. You’re quiet behind him. When he’s done with his round, he takes you out onto the promenade to get you some fresh air. You hold onto the wooden railing.

“That can be unpleasant”, he says, leaning onto the railing beside you with his elbows. “Especially if it is one's first time. You’ll get used to it.”

“I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to expect”, you reply. “I knew that it would be … bad … I just didn’t know what type. Tomorrow will be better. Now I know what to expect.”

You give him a small smile. Don’t give up on me yet, I will prove myself to you. You are weirdly cute.

“Why are you here if you lack so much experience?” he asks.

“Good question”, you sigh. “Money problems, I suppose. My family has it rough.”

“How long will you be here?”

“A few months, until I've saved enough money.”

Doctor Kry nods. “Same here.”

“Is life on board tiresome?” you wonder. “What do you do out on sea?”

“Some play deck games, some write, draw or read”, Doctor Kry says. “Some spend time with the wounded. Everyone comes up with different activities.”

“I would like to explore the ship, see what the home I will have for the coming months contains.”

“If you want I can give you a tour.”

“Really? Thank you, I would love that.”

You follow the doctor inside again. He decides to start from the bottom of the beast and show you up to the very top.

The orlop deck is the one right above the boilers. The two of you shouldn't wander further below, in case of danger. The orlop deck contains a mailroom and the cargo hold. It's chilly inside the ominous cargo room. Wooden boxes stand in groups.

“These contain everything from weapons to medical equipment to food and alcohol”, Doctor Kry says and taps the top of a wooden box. “Some people — of the military staff, I've been told — sneak down here to steal some of it. I wouldn't advise you to explore down here. The ones you'll meet will most likely be drunk beyond measure and not trustable.”

“I understand”, you say.

“That being said, let's go upstairs.”

G-deck is filled with bunk beds, rows and rows of them. Walls that used to separate cabins have been demolished and left are the marks on the floors where they should stand. People are in bed, either sleeping or chatting with each other. They’re wearing bandage.

F-deck was the same as G-deck, filled with bunk beds and cabins.

E-deck has a pool with crystal clear water. It’s a simple pool, only there for exercise. It used to have much more detailing, a children’s part of the pool and some children’s floating toys.

“It would be nice to swim here”, you say. “After long hours of standing.”

“I think it is nice”, Doctor Kry says. “I haven’t used the pool yet. I think it’s seawater but, like I said, I haven’t tried the pool yet.”

Before he has time to think, you’ve crouched down, sunk your cupped hand into the water and taken a lick. Doctor Kry gasps and twitches forward.

“What are you doing?” he questions.

“It is seawater”, you say.

He grabs your wrist, pulls you up on your feet and shakes your hands free of the water.

“That is disgusting, do not do that again”, he says sternly.

You laugh slightly, meeting his eyes. Doctor Kry shakes his head, but has to restrain himself to not smile.

“Get out”, he says, nodding at the door.

You walk before him. Your youthful behavior is going to wear him down.

D-deck has more dim corridors than the others you’ve explored. Doctor Kry stops in front of a steel door with his hand resting on the handle.

“This room is the morgue”, he says slowly. “I don’t expect you to like this room, but I do expect you to treat it with respect. Don’t do anything ‘fun’ here, like you did in the pool. Understood?”

You nod. Doctor Kry opens the door. A chilly wind blows through you. You hug yourself. The room is colder than the winds up on deck and you look at Doctor Kry to see if he’s also feeling the cold. Along the walls of the room are numbered hatches. You don’t need him to explain what is inside them. Doctor Kry opens a door to the right, showing a small room with an operating table on it.

“Have you ever performed an autopsy?” you ask.

“Many times”, he responds and closes the door.

“Do they get … easier every time?”

“Easier? I wouldn’t say easier, but you learn to shut off your brain. You’ll learn that too while working here.”

He walks you out of the morgue. D-deck also contains even more wards.

C-deck has the first class dining saloon, now nothing more than a school cafeteria. The tables are simple, the chairs looking uncomfortable. A few men sit by a table eating. Doctor Kry is quick to get you out.

B-deck has more cabins and open wards, along with an enclosed promenade deck filled with beds, where patients can rest in fresh air. There’s nothing left of the verandah cafe, the suites have been emptied and the hairdresser doesn’t have the equipment that it once had.

A-deck is the only deck on the ship left with some of her old personality. The lounge has some armchairs and couches and the smoking room still has the painted glass windows. You look at the painted mermaid on the window.

“It’s beautiful”, you say.

“It is”, Doctor Kry says. “I think it has something to do with Greek mythology, but I haven’t asked.”

The enclosed promenade deck the two of you had been on is on the same deck. Boat deck, on the other hand, has nothing enclosed. Nothing to shield anyone from wind or rain. Rows upon rows of lifeboats stand in their davits, collapsible ones are positioned on the roofs for easy access.

“Okay, I think you’ve seen it all”, Doctor Kry says and sighs. “Not much, as you can see. Majority of it have been removed in case anything would happen to the ship.”

“Is there a risk of something happening?”

“The ship is painted white with a green line and big, red crosses. People know better than to sink a hospital ship.”

“But at night you can’t see what color the ship is painted.”

“I assure you that has been thought of. I will show you. Meet me at my cabin at sunset.”

“Okay.”

You knock at his door as the sun is resting on the horizon. Doctor Kry stands up from his chair a bit too quickly.

“Good evening”, you say. “I’m here.”

“So you are”, he replies and grabs his beige coat. “Let’s go, we can get dinner afterwards.”

You follow him out to the main staircase and up to the boat deck. The red shade above you is fading into dark blue skies. Wherever you look, nothing breaks it. You follow Doctor Kry to the stern where you have a good view of the ship. A strand of green light lights up the side of the ship, big spotlights turned to the red crosses. The green light gives your face a magical shade, one which makes the doctor stare at you when you’re not looking.

“You can sleep soundly”, he says. “As you can see, there are lights showing other ships what we are. Now, how about some food?”

“Yes, please.”

The two of you walk back inside and make your way down to the dining hall. You don’t say anything, but the way your hand travels the railing down the main staircase makes him smile.

You get a bowl of soup and a piece of bread. Doctor Kry leads you to a table full of doctors where he always sits. Not because he likes their company, but because he doesn’t want to sit with the immature nurses.

“So this is your apprentice?” Doctor Hart says, eyeing you.

“Yes”, Doctor Kry replies.

You sit down beside him.

“I’m Y/N”, you say, remembering how you had forgotten to introduce yourself to Kry earlier. “

“You are a voluntary nurse, right?” a doctor asks.

“Yes.”

“What training do you have?”

“The absolute minimum, sir. I didn't have time to learn more before being sent here.”

“That’s why they’re my apprentice”, Doctor Kry says before anyone else has time to say something that could invalidate your lack of knowledge. “I’m supposed to train them.”

“You have gotten an unfortunate fit, Y/N”, Doctor Hart says jokingly. “Kry is a good doctor, but probably the most boring man I have ever come across.”

You frown, looking between him and your mentor.

“I wouldn’t say that”, you say slowly.

Doctor Kry looks at you with a small smile before taking a bite of his sandwich.

“If you ever get tired of this boring man, I could always use a trainee”, Doctor Hart says with a small smirk.

The other doctors laugh. You give them a small, uncomfortable smile.

“Let them be”, Doctor Kry says warningly. “You don't have to be an ass to the newcomers.”

He turns away from them, looking at you.

“Don’t listen to them”, he whispers.

“Okay”, you reply quietly and give him a thankful smile.

He spends the rest of the dinner conversing with you, completely ignoring the other doctors. He asks you about your family life, the members in it, what your favorite memory is. For the first time in months, he's had a purposeful conversation, one he won't forget the second he leaves the dining hall. You've only been here less than a day and yet you've managed to put color in this white steel beast.

“I shouldn't keep you”, he says suddenly. “I suppose that you're tired. You should rest. I will see you tomorrow morning. Will you find your way to your cabin?”

“I think so”, you smile. “Thank you.”

“Be at my door at seven tomorrow morning.”

You nod. Doctor Kry gives you a small nod before walking away. His heart pounds in his chest, already looking forward to tomorrow morning.

Days go by. You spend every waking hour with your mentor, following him like a dog. You don't get why everyone else calls him strict, why some pity you for having him. And some pity themselves for not being picked. It's a weird feeling, you find, that everyone has a divided opinion of you and you have no idea who thinks what. All eyes on you, and none seem to be in your favor.

Doctor Kry is awoken by knocking on his door. Still in his drowsy state can he recognize the pattern. You have a unique sense of knocking. The darkness still covers the sky.

You're standing outside, wet to the bone, wearing your pajamas and a guilty look in your eyes.

“You told me to tell you right away”, you say quickly. “I'm not sure if you meant that literally but … I have nowhere else to go.”

Your voice dies out. Doctor Kry frowns, looking at your wet form up and down.

“What happened?” he asks suspiciously.

“They locked me out.”

“What are you talking about? Who locked you out?”

“The other nurses.”

What?

“Why are you wet?”

“They threw water on me and threw me out of the room. I-I guess that it was a joke but … I didn’t really … find it funny …”

He can tell that you're shivering, although you're trying your best not to show it. It makes him unexplainably furious.

“Come inside”, he says and steps aside.

He's quick to grab his towel from his trunk and wrap it around you. You sit down on his chair.

“Did they say anything to you?” he asks.

“Not from what I heard”, you reply quietly, shaking slightly. “Everything went on so quickly. I barely had time to wake up before I found myself in the corridor.”

“They threw you?” Doctor Kry asks, trying to understand.

“Grabbed me by my arms and threw me out.”

“You must have hit the opposite wall in the corridor.”

“It’s fine.”

He feels his heart tug. His poor little apprentice, getting thrown around like trash. He knew that the nurses were assholes, but he is appalled that none of them even tried to befriend you. He knows that it’s because of him. In some way shape or form, it always leads back to him. It’s his responsibility to take care of you now. And, like hell, he’ll do it.

“Let’s get you out of those wet clothes to start with”, he says and removes the towel from around your body. “You’ll get sick if you keep them on any longer.”

He helps you remove them and dress you in his spare pajamas, offering you his bed.

“Don’t go back to that room”, he says.

“Why?”

“I feel like I am responsible for you and that’s why I can’t let you back there.”

“What do I do then?”

It’s such a simple question, but it makes him feel even more determined to take care of you. You’re asking him how to proceed. You trust him enough to let him decide what should happen to you. It’s enough to make him hear his heart in his ears.

“You’ll stay here for the night, and I will decide what to do with you in the morning”, he says and removes the cover of the bed. “Why don’t you go to bed while I get you a hot cup of tea?”

“Okay, thank you, doctor”, you say quietly.

“Of course.”

He smiles as he walks out, but the second he closes the door he feels a pain in his heart. He has been with you for two weeks by now and every day has been a pleasure. He can’t remember the last time he’s been this excited to work. Every meal, he spends it with you. He plays deck games with you on your breaks and play board games in the lounge at night. You’re interesting to him without being annoying. Everyone else gets on his nerves, being too much, too loud, too clingy and too … much. You, somehow, seem to be just perfect in every category. It’s such a rare trait for him to find. He doesn’t care that no one else understands it — on the contrary, he finds it great that he is the only one you spend your time with — but he hates that the others are childish enough to mess with you because of it.

Sea air must bring even the sanest people to madness.

The morgue flashes before his eyes and he stops right in his tracks. He wants to. Oh, how he wants to. But there’s no way that he could play it off. On a secluded place like a ship, there was no place to hide a crime. Nowhere to flee if he did get caught. He’ll figure it out, though. They won’t go unpunished.

He gets the cup of tea and makes his way back to the cabin.

“Drink this”, he says and holds the cup to your lips. “This should warm you up.”

He notices how you’re trying to take the cup from him, but he won't let you. Wants to feed you. You drink slowly.

“What do I do from now on?” you ask.

“Well, firstly, I will talk to your roommates”, the doctor says. “Tomorrow morning. You can take my bed, I will sleep on the floor.”

“No, I can’t do that. I’ve troubled you enough, doctor.”

He doesn’t answer. Instead, he tucks you in and opens his trunk to take out a shirt to use as a pillow.

“Doctor, please”, you say. “I can take the floor.”

“Don’t be absurd. Enough of this, now go to sleep.”

There’s no use in fighting him, he will not budge. You try to lay as still as you can, but it’s hard to drift off to sleep. You’re unaware that Kry is awake as well, having an even harder time getting some rest. The only thing he can think of is how angry he is at those nurses … but also a particular happiness. They sent you his way. In an unofficial way they sent you right into his clutches.

The very next morning, he awakens to find you there, in his bed, sleeping peacefully. He stares at you. There is something so heavenly about you. Something alive, among all this death and suffering.

He changes into his uniform before walking through the ominous corridors of your room. His knock must have echoed in the room because he can hear a few surprised gasps.

He recognizes the tired face that opens.

“If you don't mind, I'll grab Y/N’s things”, he says and, before waiting for a response, pushes past into the room, hitting their shoulder intentionally. “Where are they?”

“Under that bunk bed.”

He follows the pointed finger and grabs a brown bag.

“You should be ashamed of yourselves, you know”, he says without changing his normal calm tone. “I thought nurses were supposed to be caring, but what do I know? I never spend time with them. And now I see that it was with good reason.”

“What makes you so special?” one of the nurses scoffs. “There are a lot of doctors people would choose before you too.”

“I'm aware of that, and I'm very thankful for it. But you shouldn't forget that there is a hierarchy on board. I might not fall for your charms, but I can still get you downgraded to kitchen staff.”

He walks out. You're still sleeping when he returns to his cabin and he decides to go get you breakfast.

“Wake up”, he says and places the tray on the desk. “I've gotten you breakfast.”

“Really?” you ask and sit up. “Thank you so much. And thank you for letting me stay here.”

He doesn’t answer. Instead, he gives you a cup of coffee.

“I brought your things”, he says. “I don’t think that you should go back to that room at all. I will try to get you into another cabin.”

“Oh”, you say. “Thank you.”

“You say awfully many ‘thank you’s.”

“Well, you do awfully many nice things for me.”

He tries not to show how happy he gets, but his ears burn a crimson red. You get out of bed and walk over to your bag, looking around for something.

“I want to give you something”, you say and hold your hands behind your back.

“What?” asks.

You take out a little porcelain dog, a spitting image of a Golden Retriever.

“I don’t have much”, you say, “but I really value this little thing. Take it.”

“No”, Doctor Kry says simply.

“I don’t have anything else.”

“Which is why I can’t take it.”

“Please?”

He looks at the little dog in your hands and the pleading look in your eyes. His hand reach out and take it in his hand, knowing that he won’t keep it. He will find a way to give it back to you at a later time. But he has to accept it for now so that you don’t feel stupid.

He places it on his desk and gives you the cup of coffee again.

“What will we work with today?” you ask.

“We’re picking up some new people.”

Everytime they pick up new people, he’s reminded of your limited time. One day, sooner than desired, you will walk off the gangway … and someone will take your place. No. Never. He doesn't want anyone else other than you.

Among the newcomers, you find a child. The six year old boy seems to like running along the big ship's decks.

You and Kry observe him from the promenade boat above.

“Why is there a child?” you ask. “Isn’t it dangerous to let a little boy run around?”

“His parents must either be military, a nurse or wounded”, Doctor Kry replies.

You let go of the railing. Doctor Kry follows you with his eyes as you make your way down to the boy. You introduce yourself, take his little hand and ask him for his. Nicholas. You play with him. Doctor Kry can’t look away. You’re a natural with children. The little boy seems to have genuinely fun with you. You’re running along the deck, back and forth. You pretend to have a hard time catching up with him, making Doctor Kry smile. He’s not much for children. They’re loud, unpredictable and lack consequence-think. He hates all of it. But you seem to have a natural talent for it. The boy seem so comfortable with you. It’s adorable.

“Doctor!” you shout.

“What?” he replies without raising his voice.

“Come down, let’s play something!”

He sighs and lets go of the railing before making his way down to you and Nicholas.

“This is doctor Kry”, you tell the boy. “He won’t bite you.”

“Bite?” Doctor Kry scoffs. “Since when have I ever bitten someone?”

“That’s what I’m saying — you won’t bite him.”

“I never bite to begin with.”

“That’s what I’m saying, so what are you arguing about?”

“Y/N- … nevermind, I’m getting nowhere.”

You laugh. He shakes his head disapprovingly, but his heart aches fondly. You’re like an annoying fly buzzing around, but he doesn’t want to kill you.

You play curling on the deck and you throw lamely to let the little boy win. He tries to match it, tries to follow your lead.

The image doesn’t leave his brain for the rest of the day. The only thing he sees is you with the little boy.

“Doctor, be careful!”

He doesn’t notice how he’s slipped with the scalpel and cut himself in the palm. With a hiss, he backs away from the man on the operating table. You grab his other arm and pulls him with you. His head is awfully cloudy. The only thing he sees in front of him is your smile when you played with the boy.

“Sit here”, you say and place him down on a chair. “Are you okay?”

“Yes … yes, I’m fine”, he says and clears his throat.

You clean his hand and wrap it in bandage. Your touch makes him want to pass out. But it also makes him want to yell in frustration. How could he slip up that easily? He has never been distracted during an autopsy and suddenly seeing you with a child puts him out of balance enough for him to slip the knife?

“You need to be careful”, you tell him.

“I know”, he sighs, rolling his eyes. “I don’t enjoy hurting myself.”

“I didn’t mean that, I know you’re careful, I just-”

He realizes that he’s made a mistake.

“I know”, he says, cutting you of before sighing heavily and continuing in defeat. “I didn’t mean to sound mad. I’m not angry with you.”

He could never be. If anything, he’s furious at himself.

“It’s okay”, you say gently.

You let go of his bandaged hand.

“It should be okay now”, you say. “But I don’t think that you should go back.”

“I won’t”, he says. “They need a steady hand and clearly my isn’t.”

“Don’t be hard on yourself, doctor. It happens to the best of us.”

He sighs and stands up, keeping his eyes on a point above your head.

“Let’s go out”, he says stiffly and clenches his jaw. “I need air.”

“Do you want to be alone?” you ask.

His reply comes short. “Just come.”

You nod and hurry after him out on deck. His entire body screams anger. You don’t dare to open your mouth, scared to upset him even more. Instead, you follow him like a shadow around the promenade deck. He suddenly stops and looks at you, as if he just only realized that you are still here. You back away a few steps to give him space. He flinches forward, as if his body wants to walk over to you, but his brain stops him. He wants to hug you. Wants so bad. But it is not professional.

“Maybe i should go”, you say. “I think that you need some alone time to think. I’ll see you later, okay? Don’t be so hard on yourself.”

“No, wait”, he says and grabs your arm. “Don’t leave.”

You look at him questionably.

“Let’s just sit”, he says and pulls you over to the deck chairs.

“Are you sure that you’re okay?” you ask hesitantly. “You seem a bit on edge.”

“It’s not directed at you”, he says.

“Okay, but you’re still upset. I know that you hurt yourself, but it’s okay, it’ll heal quickly.”

“It’s not just that.”

He never makes mistakes. He never slips up. You’re becoming dangerous for him.

“Do you want to tell me?” you ask.

He shakes his head and gives you a small smile. “No. I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

It’s cute how worried you are about him. He gives you a smile.

It feels like a dagger through the heart when you tell him that it is your last week on board. What do you mean that you’re going home? You just came here. His mind spins as he tries to come up with something. He needs you here on this boat — or wherever he is — to work properly. Both figuratively and literally. He feels like he performs better, both in the operating theater and as a human.

The cut on his hand has healed by now, but he can still feel the burning sensation of your fingers against his skin. He can’t — won't — forget it. He kept the bandage, despite the blood on it.

You need to be kept here … and he needs to come up with a solution on how to keep you. He could make you trip down the stairs and have you break a leg. No, you could still return home with broken bones. He could tie you up and lock you in, but if you screamed loud enough someone would hear you through the thin steel walls. You need to blend in. How does one blend in, in a floating prison with wounded people.

Oh. Of course.

He makes his way to the medical supply room, looking around for something — anything — that he can use. He finds a little green bottle. You shouldn’t drink it straight away, but if he dilutes it in water, it should be fine.

He decides to mix some of the dangerous substance in your tea the following mornings. For the first few days, there seem to be no symptoms of his little poisoning. Until the fourth morning when you’re not at his door when he expects you. He gets himself dressed and out of the room, marching down to your new — own — cabin. He knocks on the door.

“Y/N, are you awake?” he asks.

“Yes”, he hears your voice through the door, your voice thick and hoarse.

“Can I come in?”

“No.”

He opens the door. You’re lying in the bed, curled up with your arms over your stomach.

“How are you feeling?” he asks.

You shake your head weakly. “Not well. My stomach really hurts … I think that I’m going to throw up. I haven’t been able to go get a bucket so I’ve been trying to keep it in.”

“I’ll get you a bucket.”

He leaves the room. Out in the corridor, he can’t help but smile. It’s finally kicking in. He had been worried that it wouldn’t work until you had left the ship … where he can’t care for you. He gets a clean bucket from a storage closet and returns.

“Let’s get you up right”, he says and helps you sit up.

The motion alone is enough to have you throwing up. He places the bucket under your mouth, letting you empty yourself.

“I’m sorry”, you hiccup.

“It’s okay”, he replies.

“I don’t think I can work today.”

“I don’t expect you to.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Stop saying that.”

He opens the window and sits down by the desk.

“You don’t have to stay here”, you say weakly, leaning against the wall. “I’ll be fine.”

“You won’t be fine”, the doctor says. “I can see that. You took care of me, now I’ll take care of you.”

“It’s different. I just put on bandage.”

“So? You weren’t skilled for more. I am, and I intend to put my knowledge to use.”

He stands up abruptly, deciding to start right away.

“Let’s get you some fresh air”, he says. “This open window won’t do.”

“Doctor, I can’t move”, you say, eyes widening. “I-I’ve tried, but I-I … I can’t.”

He frowns. Has he done too much?

“My stomach hurts so much and my limbs don’t seem to want to move.”

“It’ll be okay”, he says shortly and lifts you up in his arms. “I’ll do the moving for you.”

He walks slowly along the decks, so as not to make your nausea even more unbearable. He walks out to the enclosed promenade where rows of beds stand along the walls and places you down in one of them, making sure to get you in the sunlight. With a smile, he tucks you in.

“Some fresh air and sunlight will do you good”, he says and sits down on the side of the bed. “Why don’t you try to get some rest? I suppose you haven’t had much this night. I’m not going anywhere, you’ll be safe.”

You nod and make yourself a bit more comfortable.

“It’s hard to not be nauseous when the ship moves so much”, you mumble.

“I have the bucket, you can vomit as much as you’d like”, he says.

“In that case I won’t vomit at all. Because I don’t want to.”

Doctor Kry scoffs with a smile.

“I know”, he says. “Try to rest now.”

He sits by your side until you’ve fallen asleep. You are so unbelievably sweet. In every single way. Doctor Kry stands up to go empty the bucket. He walks out the enclosed promenade, out onto the open deck and throws the contains over the side.

“What’s with your apprentice?” Doctor Hart asks, walking over to him with his hands in his pockets. “Rumour says that they’re sick.”

“Yes, they are”, he says shortly.

“Weren’t they going home this week?”

Do not remind me.

“They were”, he says, even colder. “Not anymore. I can’t let them go back if they have some kind of sickness. Better for them to be isolated here where it can’t spread far.”

“Is it contagious?”

“Yes, very. I think that you should stay away from them — tell everyone else to be cautious and keep distance as well.”

He grimaces and quickly backs away from him, walking away. Doctor Kry smirks and shakes his head.

And you consider yourself smart enough to be a doctor?

“What are you doing?”

The little boy is back. Nicholas stands a few steps behind him, watching curiously.

“I’m emptying a bucket”, Doctor Kry answers, trying not to sound short and cold like usual. You like this kid and if he’s impolite to him, he’s sure he’ll hear about it from you.

“Why?”

“Because there was vomit in it.”

“Ew! Did you get seasick?”

He rolls his eyes. “No, not me. Y/N’s not feeling well.”

“Is Y/N sick?”

“Yes.”

He looks worried. His best friend isn’t feeling well? Doctor Kry sighs.

“Do you want to come and meet them later?” he asks. “They’re resting right now but you can come visit when they’re awake again.”

“When is that?” Nicholas asks.

“I don’t know.”

“How will I know then?”

“I don’t know.”

He doesn’t wait to hear more dumb questions. Doctor Kry walks straight back to the enclosed promenade and places the bucket by the bed. He sits down by your legs and takes your hand.

A few days go by. He continuous to poison your tea, and help you throw up. When your body doesn’t want to do it anymore, when it’s too exhausted to work for your benefit, he has to help.

“Alright, open your mouth”, he says, brushing any type of hair away from your face. “This will not be pleasant, but I need you to throw up, okay?”

You sit beside him on the bed with the bucket in your lap, hugging it tightly. Your unsure grimace is enough to answer.

“I know”, he sighs. “It’ll be quick. It won’t hurt.”

“Okay”, you mumble and nod, opening your mouth.

He reaches in with his fingers until they touch the soft part of the back of the mouth. Your mouth is warm and soft, making him feel light headed. As soon as you gag, he pulls his fingers away. You hover over the bucket for the thirteenth time in twenty four hours. Doctor Kry pats your back.

“There you go”, he says. “See? Quick and easy.”

“Easy?” you cough, giving him a stern eye. “Nowhere near easy.”

“Okay, maybe not easy. Bad wording. But it’s over now. Good job, I’m proud of you.”

A sad smile appears on your face. You lean your head onto his shoulder, sighing in exhaustion. Doctor Kry tenses. His heart stops.

“I’m so tired”, you whisper. “My body hurts.”

He hesitates before wrapping his arm around your shoulders, bringing you closer to him. Your scent clogs up his head.

“I should be home by now”, you whisper.

“I know”, doctor Kry whispers comfortingly.

You break out into sobs. Doctor Kry swallows. He can imagine how you must feel. Body broken and unresponsive, not back home with your family like you had planned and anticipated … and you can’t do anything to stop it. Doctor Kry turns your body to him and hugs you. Holding you feels like heaven. You fit perfectly in his arms, as if you were made for him, and him only. You were born to be his.

“I'm sorry if this is unprofessional”, you mumble.

“It's okay, you're sick”, he replies thickly

He closes his eyes, enjoying the embrace. It’s everything he could — and have — ever dreamt of. His own little patient, in his arms, where they belong. Only for him. Oh, God, he can never let you go. You will be here for as long as he is, and then he’ll take you back home to him. Whether you like it or not.

“I’m cold.”

“I'll go get you some more blankets.”

He dreads to let you go but he can't deny your request. Your warmth disappears from his embrace.

He decides to hurry, wanting to get back to you as quickly as possible. As he walks down the main staircase, he feels the entire ship shudder and hear a loud ‘bang’. He has to grab onto the staircase railing to not fall over. The sound of porcelain crashing onto the floor in the distance hits him. He hurries down.

A man covered in soot runs past him. One of the men from the boiler room.

“The ship is flooding!” he shouts in full panic. “We're sinking!”

Doctor Kry widens his eyes. There's no way, right? They're a hospital ship! No one in their right mind would sink a hospital ship! His mind forgets the blanket. He needs a lifebelt. Not a blanket.

He runs past the room where you had stayed first, and he can see the nurses inside trying to scramble their belongings into small purses. Without thinking, he marches over, shuts the door and grabs the nearest fire extinguisher to break the lock. He throws the fire extinguisher to the side and hurries down the corridor, opening the first door he finds. It's a cabin for female nurses. He reaches over one of the bunk beds, to a net where lifebelts Are kept. He pulls down two and runs out.

The floor has started to shift beneath him. He can tell that it tilts to his left. She's going down by the stern.

He runs up the stairs, trying to push his way through a flood of people desperately climbing upwards. He wants to shout at them, but it won't matter. No one else will listen or care. Instead, he uses force to push himself through the crowd.

He has to get to you before anything happens. There's no certainty in how much time there is, but there is a certainty of death if he doesn't hurry up.

He runs through packed corridors, ripping open your door.

“What's going on?” you ask with wide eyes.

There's something horrific with your fearful eyes. Everything about you is dull and tired, besides your panicking eyes.

“We've been hit”, he says in a steady voice and forces the white lifebelt over your head, tying it tightly around your body. “We need to get to a lifeboat as quickly as possible.”

“What?” you ask in shock. “What happened? You said that we were okay, that nothing would happen to a hospital ship!”

He doesn't answer. If he does, he's worried that he'll snap at you. Instead, he lifts you up and carries you out of the room. He makes sure not to trip, but carrying you through tilted spaces is harder than he expects. Giving up is not an option, however.

The boat deck is crowded. He manages to get through to a lifeboat and sits down with you in his arms.

“I’m scared”, you whisper.

“It's okay”, the doctor whispers back. “Everything is going to be okay.”

He holds you tightly when the lifeboat slowly sinks towards the water, scared that you might fall off.

Seeing the ship from afar as the lifeboat makes its way away from it finally puts things together in your head. You gasp. You had been on that … and if Kry hadn't come get you you would still be on it, waiting for death.

The bow slowly rises out of the water, dripping with water. The sun shines right on it, as if it is the ocean’s main attraction. The room where doctor Kry locked in the nurses is far underwater by now. He hides a smirk under his hand. He had promised that they would be punished for what they had done. They'd have a chance if they hadn't been childish.

“I never thought that I’d see something like this”, you say. “I never wanted to see the bottom of a ship.”

“Me neither”, the doctor replies.

“Will many die?”

“No, not many. I’m sure of it.”

You creep closer to him, shivering although you don’t feel any cold winds. He holds you tighter.

The only thing left of the floating hospital is a steamy, bubbling mess, filled with debris. It’s like you can hear her hit the ocean floor. You can’t help but wonder what position she is in, if you’ll ever get to know. If anyone ever will dive down and check. If that will be possible.

“It’s so silent”, you whisper and meet his blue eyes. “It shouldn’t be silent … should it?”

“I don’t know”, he replies. “What is the other choice? People screaming?”

You shake your head quickly. Don’t want to imagine that.

Hours go by. When the evening comes, you’re picked up by another ship and given blankets and food. Doctor Kry stays close to you, not letting anyone get close. He sits in a protective position beside you, arms crossed over his chest, eyes scanning everything and everyone around him.

The little boy clings to a woman who you guess is his mother. He doesn’t seem to understand what has happened, how lucky he is, and you hope that he never will.

“What will happen now?” you wonder quietly.

“I will continue to care for you until you are well”, he says. “That’s what will happen. I will take care of the rest, you don’t have to worry about anything. Just lean on me and everything will be alright, okay?”

You nod. Doctor Kry smiles and straightens his neck.

“Good.”

You look up at the colorful evening sky and sighs. No one died this day — apart from a few nurses who doctor Kry didn’t like, but he will never tell you that — and that is a comfort. But you’re unaware of the plans doctor Kry has for you. And maybe that’s for the best.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere drabbles #yandere oc x you #yandere oc x reader #yandere fics #yandere doctor

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elfrooting · 10 months ago

Text

I’m thinking about Emmrich and his obvious compassion for the dead, and I’m wondering about how the Mourn Watch are trained. We know not all Mortalitasi share his empathy (see the mage in “The Dread Wolf Take You” from Tevinter Nights), so maybe the Mourn Watch undergo something that helps instill this reverence and respect for spirits and the departed.

It got me thinking: what if the Mourn Watch mages work with the dying before they work with the dead?

Perhaps as apprentices they complete a year of service as death doulas, to give them perspective on how death affects not only those dying but also their loved ones. They hold hands at bedsides, comfort parents and children and siblings and spouses, and give potions to help ease their patients across the Veil without pain, if that is their wish.

They then prepare their remains for mummification, treating these mortal shells with the same care they did before their soul departed. They lovingly wash their skin, anoint them with oils and resins, and wrap them in strips of linen with their precious earthly belongings tucked between the layers.

Then, now knowing the departed on a more intimate level than many who knew them in life, they begin to search the Fade for a being who will best embody the things they held important, imparting their legacy to live on through a benevolent spirit who can then experience the waking world through their form.

They don’t bind these spirits. They don’t need to, because they have come to know and understand the departed so thoroughly that they can then seek out one who will come willingly into their body.

Maybe this is why some Nevarran mages callously bind wisps to stir their wine, but Emmrich can see a wailing corpse and recognize the pain of lost love in its cries, or give a curious wandering soul the perfect postmortem position as his librarian.

Anyway, I guess what I’m saying is RIP to the rest of the Mortalitasi but the Mourn Watch is different.

#dragon age #da:tv #da:tv spoilers #emmrich volkarin #mourn watch #mortalitasi #nevarra #juni talks #this is absolutely how i am writing lena’s training

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possumteeeth · 2 years ago

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Lambpaw, like every other healer apprentice before him, traveled to the Moonshell to be granted StarClan's approval. When he stared at his reflection in the massive, iridescent shell, he couldn't help but feel anxiety gnawing at him. His mentor, Salmonfleck, gently urged him on. Lambpaw touched his nose to the salty water within the shell.

He awoke in a place that nothing could have prepared him for. Gone were the lush forests and starry skies that Salmonfleck had told him of. Everything was dull and lifeless. The air was so still he could hear the blood in his veins. Fog shrouded the forest like a blanket. A single star hung in the grey sky, giving off cold light. Worst of all... there were no StarClan cats to be seen--

--until the fog began taking shape.

#digital art #warrior cats #cat oc #erin hunter warriors #warriors designs #digital artist #warrior cats oc #warriors #warriors fanart #fan comic #oc universe #starclan #lore drop #ive been so excited to talk abt this #starclan be normal challenge #level impossible #lambpaw #coveclan

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ladykailitha · 6 months ago

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Spellbound Part 3

And we're back with this one! I am loving how much you guys are into this one, I hope you guys are ready for the start of the troubles.

In this we have Jason being a douche, Eddie gets mad at Wayne, and Eddie and Wayne find out about Bav!

Part 1 Part 2

The downside to the charm’s spell of no return is that that didn’t include their loved ones and family members. They never got through Steve’s defenses, but they sure could pound on his door and trigger a migraine.

Eddie poked his head out his front door, a little surprised that whoever was pounding on the witch’s door, had not in fact knocked his door first. But when he saw it was the major’s son, Jason, the blond Adonis, he promptly decided that it was the witch’s problem and not to interfere.

But as he turned to close the door there was a loud CRACK! He whirled around to see that idiot had brought an ax with him and was trying to break down the witch’s door.

Eddie sighed and pulled out Wayne’s shot gun that he kept by the front door and leveled it at the idiot. “Jason Carver I swear to God if you don’t step away from that door, I’ll shoot you. And while I might not be the best shot, at this distance it would be like hitting the broad side of a barn.”

Jason turned at him with a snarl, but that quickly fell from his face as he realized he was barely twenty feet from the barrel of double-barrel shotgun.

“You stay out of this, Munson,” he growled. “It doesn’t have anything to do with you.”

Eddie sighed and took two steps away from his door. “See, I was gonna mind my own business until you started deciding that because Steve wasn’t home, you were going to put an ax through his door.”

Jason paused for a moment with a frown before raising the ax again. “I know you’re lying to me. I saw movement behind the curtain.”

Eddie scoffed. “Sir, him and that girl who is his apprentice has a familiar each between them. You probably saw the cat or the bird ruffling the drapes. Now get out of here, before I start hollering for the watch.”

Jason looked back at the door and at Eddie. He pointed his ax at him. “You tell that no good witch, I’m coming for him. He’s going to pay for what he did.”

Eddie blinked at him for a moment. “Make him pay for what? He does herbal remedies and love charms. He’s mostly harmless.”

“It’s those love charms that are the problem,” Jason snarled taking a step Eddie’s direction, but stopped when Eddie moved his finger on to the trigger. “Filling people’s heads with this true love nonsense. All any woman needs is a good provider to take care of her and any babies she has.”

“Jason,” Eddie said pained, “leave before you say something else stupid that will cause me to shoot you. Women aren’t fucking bees, sir. They don’t all have the same thoughts, ideals, and desires. Some women may want what you have to offer, but not all of them, and I’m willing to bet Miss Cunningham is one of those that don’t.”

Jason stepped off the witch’s porch and walked the other direction than Eddie’s house, both of them staring each other down until Jason turn the corner and vanished from view.

Eddie slumped against the door frame and opened the chamber, cursing what he found there. It was empty. It didn’t even have two spent shells in it.

“Uncle Wayne!” he groused stomping through the house. “The gun doesn’t do shit if it ain’t loaded, old man. You could have gotten me killed just now! I hope you know that!”

Wayne came through the backdoor wiping his hands on an old rag. “What are you yapping about now?”

Eddie tossed the gun at him and he caught deftly one-handed. “You don’t keep an empty gun by the door, old man.”

Wayne checked the chamber and looked up at Eddie chagrin. “Ah.” He limped over to the cupboard and pulled out a box. He deftly loaded the shotgun, it draped over one arm. He slammed it shut and tossed it back.

“Sorry about that,” Wayne said with a cock of his head. “I forgot to reload it after chasing off those rabbits last week.”

Eddie said nothing as he put the gun back next to the door.

“Who did you chase off?” Wayne asked as he started making the tea Steve made for him.

“Jason Carver,” he groused as he sat down hard at the table, leaning his head back over the back of the chair. “Apparently his fianceé got a love charm from the witch and it didn’t match with him. So he was making an ax of himself.”

Wayne huffed a laugh, shaking his head. “So you scared him off with the shot gun? How close did you get to shooting the mayor’s son?”

Eddie raised his head. “Close enough that had it been loaded, the town would be having a fucking funeral. He actually took an ax to Steve’s door with the intent of breaking it down.”

“He was doing what now?” Wayne squawked, nearly knocking off the tea kettle from the stove. “Shit, is Steve okay?”

“No idea,” Eddie said with a shrug. “He never answered the door, so I assumed he wasn’t home. I’m hoping that because Jason was scared off, he didn’t get his mark.”

“Christ!” Wayne said, his hand beginning to shake. “With him being the mayor’s son, this is a pretty pickle. Mayor Carver could drive Steve out of town.”

They shared a long hard look and then Wayne downed his tea as fast as he could. Then they were both grabbing their coats and Eddie grabbed the gun, rushing out the front door to race to Steve’s.

They arrived at his cottage just as Robin and he returned.

The witch and his apprentice shared a glance and Steve asked what was wrong. He listened to Eddie tale solemnly.

“Well,” Steve huffed dryly. “I’d like to see them try. Many a mob has tried to oust my family for generations, I assure you they will not succeed.” He walked up the door and ran his finger over the splintered wood. “I’m sorry he hurt you.” The line grew yellow and then in a flash was gone.

Then Steve promptly fainted.

Robin and Wayne were at his side in an instant, helping him into the cottage. They laid him out on the sofa by the window. Then Eddie felt a slightly queasy feeling and he closed his eyes against the wave of sudden nausea.

Robin was pushing a cup of something into his hand before he even opened his eyes.

“Drink that,” she insisted. “It’s a little hard to get used to the feeling when Bav moves stuff around to accommodate Steve. Heaven knows it took me a whole month before I stopped turning green.”

Eddie downed it one go, gagging on the bitter taste. Next to him, Wayne did the same. Eddie looked around the room and saw that Steve’s work table that was usually by the front door was now by the back door. Even the window appeared larger to let in more air and light.

Robin started mixing up another potion and lifted Steve’s head. She helped him drink the potion and then admonished him. “You didn’t have to do that, you lunatic. Bav had it. She would have had door fixed by the end of the day.”

Steve snorted as he came round and struggled to sit up. Robin helped him straight up as he swung his feet to the floor.

“Yes, I know,” Steve huffed, gripping the edges of the sofa. “But it was the least I could do after she got hurt for me.”

Eddie wasn’t sure, but he would swear for years that walls of the cottage turned pink. Like Bav was blushing.

He had to give himself a mental shake because that wasn’t possible. There was no way that an inanimate object can blush. Then he realized that she could move. And was therefore, in face of it was in fact, animate.

Now suddenly he was uncomfortable with the knowledge that that walls might not only have ears, but eyes too.

Robin scoffed as though she could read his thoughts. “She can’t see anything or really hear. But she can feel Steve and knows what he needs.”

Eddie wasn’t sure he believed her, but there really wasn’t anything else he could do at the moment. Wayne and he watched as Robin busied herself making Steve food.

“Why do you do it if it takes so much out of you?” Eddie asked. He couldn’t remember his mama having fainting spells and eating them out of house and home.

Steve gathered up a blanket from the back of the sofa and drew it around him. “It’s not supposed to be like this,” he admitted shyly. “It’s like I can only access half of my magic. My mother couldn’t figure it out either. Last we spoke she was still looking into the matter.”

“The closest anyone has gotten to figuring it out,” Robin said, handing Steve a large plate of cheese, bread, and sweet meats, “is that his magic is tied to another witch somehow and until he finds them, he’s only a half of a witch.”

Wayne and Eddie shared a shocked glance.

“How could that even happen?” Wayne asked, in genuine concern.

Steve started to talk around his bit of cheese, but stopped when he couldn’t get the words out.

“What this adorable idiot is trying to say,” Robin huffed with a laughter, “is that once every hundred years or so there is born a pair of witches that are so powerful that they would burn themselves up in a decade. So a spell was placed on them so that when that pair was born their power would be halved to keep it from burning them out until they were old enough to control it.”

“Which is bullshit,” Steve said, gulping down the bite in his mouth. “No one believes that’s me, by the way. But it’s the closest anyone could find to why I’m such a bad witch. It’s just a fairy story witches tell their children so they grow up believing in their other half.”

Eddie’s head reared back. He thought he was cynical, but it seemed that even Steve topped him in that regard. “Wow, that’s a bleak outlook, I won’t lie.”

Steve huffed angrily and tried to stand up, but he barely got halfway before tumbling back to the sofa.

“I don’t think you’re going anywhere for awhile,” Robin said with a smirk. “You’ll need a lot of rest if you’re going to want to be on your feet anytime soon.”

“Are you sure you’re going to be fine, son?” Wayne asked. “Because after what you just told us I’m not sure you will be.”

“Bav will protect me,” Steve said stubbornly. “Even if I get caught outside of the cottage, she’ll come to my aid, you’ll just have to trust me on that.” He settled back into the sofa and Eddie could swear the house relaxed too.

Wayne opened his mouth to ask the question on both his and Eddie’s mind, but Robin held up her hand to forestall him.

“I don’t know,” she said tersely, glaring at Steve. “He won’t tell me how she’ll come to his aid, only that she would and could.”

Steve mimed locking his lips and throwing away the key and then finished the rest of his meal with a smug expression on his face.

Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14

Tag List: CLOSED

1- @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog @sadisticaltarts @dolphincliffs

2- @gregre369 @a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @cryptid-system @kultiras

3- @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

4- @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji @dreamercec @blondie1006

5- @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @genderless-spoon @fearieshadow @thesecondfate

6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman

7- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth

8- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @beelze-the-bubkiss

9- @wheneverfeasible @micheledawn1975 @gloomysoup @dotdot-wierdlife @tartarusknight

10- @ollyxar @yesdangerpls @two-vampires-kissing @themoonagainstmers @estrellami-1

#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailitha writes #witch au #witch steve harrington

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