#every shot of the ship at sea was lovely. the crowd scenes were lovely!

[notbecauseofvictories]

nosferatu is a beautiful movie, amazing choices by everyone involved---except the main actors. they were terrible.

[eggsaladstain]

Have you ever took notice of the odd mural in the dining saloon. When Eyk goes to announce the change of course to the 1st class passengers, the first shot is of him with his back towards the camera and the crowd looking at him, and over their heads is this grey mural depicting what seem to be two giants (they appear to be giants to me, at least), the Earth symbol, and the vortex of water that Ling Yi witnessed. Have you any thoughts about that? It's too peculiar to not mean anything!

hi anon and thanks for the ask! here's the mural in question, on the kerberos:

and on the prometheus:

broadly speaking, this is such a great example of the level of attention to detail on this show and how everything, from the writing to the costume and set design to the creepy music and sound effects, was so meticulously crafted to breathe life into this world and give us clues for how this story would unfold.

as far as the mural itself, it’s chock full of foreshadowing and references to greek mythology, but before we dive into that, it’s worth mentioning that the mural is a relief sculpture, that is, a piece of art where the figures project outward from a flat background. this sculpted marble look of the mural ties in nicely with the opening credits which shows the characters as statues:

and statues, of course, are a physical, three-dimensional representation of a moment suspended in time, which turns out to be the twist with all the countless repeating simulations. it’s such a small detail that, combined with all these other small, subtle details, really sets the mood and tone for the rest of the show. immaculate vibes, truly.

but back to the mural, here’s a clearer image that emily beecham posted on twitter (with a bit of color correction and added sharpness):

you have the two ships, prometheus and kerberos, flanking the the triangle/earth symbol (with what looks to be parents and a child in the center) in the middle of a swirling vortex, which all foreshadow the ending where the failed simulations/ships are swept up in the vortex into the graveyard.

in each of the corners, you have a significant figure from greek mythology:

starting from the top left, there is zeus with his lightning bolt, who curses prometheus to his punishment in the top right, who is ultimately saved by hercules in the bottom left, who is depicted wrestling cerberus in the last of his 12 labors. in the bottom right is nyx, the goddess of night who is mother to hypnos (sleep), oneiros (dreams), and the moirai (the three fates), to name a few, and she is feared by zeus because she is older and more powerful than him.

and finally, you have the smaller figures scattered throughout of other people being swept into the vortex, referencing both the dead passengers from the mass suicide as well as the river styx, which dead souls must cross in order to reach the underworld. the figures in the river actually reminds me specifically of the scene in disney’s hercules and the visual is incredibly effective and striking in both cases:

i’ve mentioned a lot of doom and gloom so far but rest assured there are some glimmers of hope as well.

prometheus is ultimately freed from his eternal punishment by hercules. after completing his final task of subduing cerberus, hercules is able to atone for his crime of murdering his wife and children. nyx also gave birth to aether (brightness) and hemera (day). and i have nothing nice to say about zeus.

i really love all these references to greek mythology that were woven into the show, and in fact, the story itself plays out as a greek tragedy on multiple levels as well.

if you take the ship story at face value, you have these tragic, flawed characters who are all trying to escape their own traumas who end up dying at sea while trying to help a sister ship.

if you look at it from the simulation level, the tragedy only deepens as you have these characters who are doomed to repeat the same simulation over and over again, failing every time, unable to escape their fates. it’s only at the end that it seems like maura may have broken the cycle, but there are also plenty of clues to suggest that she has only traded one simulation for another.

and of course, if you look at it from a meta level, you have this big-budget, ambitious show that was created by an acclaimed director and screenwriter duo that was well received by critics and viewers alike and was canceled with little explanation less than two months after its release.

i will never get over this so thank you anon for giving me another excuse to talk about this show.

[justaniche]

somewhere over the rainbow (Calum Hood x Reader)

Concept: You’re going through a particularly rough spot with your mental health and Calum is there to help you through it.

I thought of this like a week ago and it wouldn’t leave my head until I wrote it so enjoy and let me know what you think!

TW: depressive and anxious thoughts, feelings, and/or behaviors. I don’t know what I should specifically warn so feel free to let me know but proceed with caution if any of this applies to you.

Also, these feelings are based on my personal experiences with people I know so if the emotions don’t exactly match your experiences or knowledge please excuse it.

word count: 968

      You felt it coming for days. The storm clouds that often crowded your mind and the pressure settled on your chest that accompanied it. You first felt it 3 days before Calum left, while you and he were cooking. You two were blasting music, working in a near-perfect tandem to get dinner ready when breathing got a little more difficult. You had been living with these feelings, these waves, for a while so you almost knew how to keep it at bay and you tried. It was hard but Calum’s support made it easier, made the battle bearable. He distracted you from your thoughts and it helped you from falling deeper.

Normally, Calum can spot it, the dips in mood, even when you’re insisting that you’re fine

Normally, when all you two do to keep the thoughts at back fails he sits with you for as long as you like, hold you when you need it, even giving you space when that is required.

Normally, Calum takes care of you when you can’t take care of yourself and when he too has to leave for whatever is needed Duke makes sure you're never alone.

Normally, when you feel like a ship lost at sea, Calum tries his best to be your lighthouse.

This time was anything but normal. You and Calum have been together for 3 years now and luckily your bouts occur when he’s home or when he’s coming home. Calum left 7 days ago, with your brain clouded the details are foggy. You know the days only because you force yourself up every day twice a day to feed Duke. 14 feedings equal 7 days.

Your thick curtains no longer had to fight to keep the sunlight out so it was at least 6pm. Somewhere in your brain, you knew Cal would be back soon but you wouldn’t focus on the when. You promised Calum you’d be okay while he was gone, you know you couldn’t promise that but he looked so worried and you knew he had to go.

The house is silent aside from Duke’s soft breaths beside you. The distant sounds of keys colliding with the door shattered the tortured peace of the night. Duke shot awake, standing to shake out his coat, and proceeded to make his way towards the door. You shut your eyes. 

The house is dark save for the light trickling out of the cracked bathroom door, Calum’s footsteps are soft but ever-growing in volume as he approaches. No light barraged your eyelids so you could almost picture the scene unfolding within the house; Cal holding his luggage above the ground, deciding against rolling it to prevent noise. He crept through the house, the darkness hiding the disarray.

The door whined as it was pushed open and it was only a moment later when you felt the slight dip in the mattress behind you. Calum’s warm hand settled on your back, both the familiar weight and heat acted as an anchor, and despite the heaviness of your eyelids, you opened your eyes.

“Hi love, how’re you feeling?” Cal’s voice was light, almost cooing. You wanted to respond but only a mumble came, your mind too tired to form words.

“Have you eaten today?”

You hadn’t. Your day consisted of feeding Duke and crawling back to bed. You did your best to shake your head, an indicator. He seemed to understand and the comfort of his hand disappeared, but Calum returned in minutes. He sat in front of you this time, accompanied with, what looked to be, a sandwich and a bottle of water. He slid those onto the bedside table.

You watched as he changed his clothes and climbed into the bed sitting up against the headboard. He nudged your shoulder, it was a beckon you understood, and you turned over. Your head found solace in his lap, his hand began to smooth down your hair as your eyes fluttered close. The crack of bottle opening sounded above you,

“Come here Y/N,” Calum pulled you up this time, up and into his lap until you were straddling him. He leads the water to your lips, coaxing you to take a sip. You humor him and, for the first time in days, allow the water to wet your throat.

“Can you try and eat for me?” He brought the sandwich to your mouth but your stomach lunged in protest. Shaking your head, you instead lean forward and nuzzle your face into the side of his neck. His scent had always been calming for you, there were no words to describe the smell other than what it reminded you of: home. 

Calum put the sandwich back on the side table, his hands coming to rest on your back rubbing it in a soothing motion. Sleep was calling you back when Cal began to hum, the humming turned to singing and you recognized the tune in no time, “Somewhere Over the Rainbow”.

The song was a source of peace and hope for you. Life may not always be easy. You might have to live with this and the dark clouds, but as Calum’s voice and Duke’s light breathing lulled you to sleep you knew one thing for sure. You knew that despite it all, through it all, you wouldn’t be alone.

[cosmiclatte28]

Autumn in My Heart (Taeyong x you, you x Jaehyun)

hello, another fic I made that flopped, but I want to bring this back with another pairing. I love this, still one of the angst I made that I feel okay to post.

One shot - angst/fluff

a/n : Taeyong sounds like a bad boyfriend, but trust me he isn’t. Jaehyun is the rebound you found in the middle of a storm.

(Posted on wattpad before, and one in tumblr as an exo pairing but only got 1 notes ☹)

Enjoy

The picturesque scene of red and orange trees cannot fool the dull and sombre race of falling leaves pulled by the gravity. Be honest, autumn is depressing. See the falling leaves, dying every time a gush of cold wind tingles. (y/n) hates seeing the piles of dead leaves on the ground, she feels like the trees are selfish that they let the leaves die in order to survive.

The clock strikes six when you have put on your tailor fitted Pea coat from Schott’s. Tonight, your favorite fragrance from Chloe accompanies you. You inhale your favorite floral scent and get ready as your smart watch rings with a caller ID you love dearly. Your lover has rung you up saying he is downstairs waiting for you to take your time. You make your last tuck on your Pea coat and pocket your phone as you slipped your feet to the leather boots. You make sure to kiss your corgi good bye before keeping the key in your pocket and slightly run to meet the waiting prince; your waiting prince!

The elevator ride almost killed you; you frown whenever the door opens and what greet you are the foreign faces of your neighbor from other floors; after pressing the close button five more times, you finally reach your destination. With your round eyes you scan the whole room and find your prince in no time. His fashion and his tall body make him easy to spot.

“Taeyong! I’m here, let’s go!” you cling into the taller man’s arm and giddily drag him out of the warm lobby. The early cold wind harshly welcomes both of you outside; Taeyong clears his throat and pulls you closer. He takes in your small hand, holds it firm in his big hand, and pops it nicely into his toasty pocket of his Burberry trench coat. “It’s starting to get cold,” Taeyong smiles.

You blush, even when Taeyong had done this for three consecutive autumns, your heart will always beat like it was your first time. You did nothing though and just follow his long legs that bring them to a place you know a bit too much.

“Usual place Yong?”

The tall blonde man nods and after walking through the busy streets, you found yourself in a restaurant district. Your stomach growl when the delicious smell of your favorite food can be smelled from a meter. You both sit down on your usual chairs, place the same ordinary menu; a Hawaiian pizza slice for you and a Pepperoni for Taeyong. Though Taeyong never agrees that pineapple goes with pizza, he never speaks his opinion out loud to you, he just can’t. Try and say that to a person who really enjoys it and do you dare see their heart breaks? No Taeyong doesn’t want to break her heart; it’s the last thing he wanted to do to (Y/n).

Dinner is amazing. Over two slices of giant pizza and soda, you exchange stories, laugh over new jokes, and secretly treasure this sweet moment. You both end their pizza date with a split bill and with the warmth of a full stomach. The couple make their way out of the bright, fragrance road and move to another crowded and romantic district.

You told Taeyong about a new milkshake shop opening in here in Gangnam, and Taeyong will do everything that brings a smile to your face. With you standing close by his side, Taeyong naturally slides his arm to hug your slim waist from the side as he reads the menu in the TV from the queuing line.

The café is full of sweet couples, the atmosphere here is so warm and comfortable, Taeyong knows this will 99% become their favorite hangout place.

“We’re so sorry, but we sold the second last cup already… We only have one left for the special house favorite’s chocolate,” the man with a name tag reading Doyoung, smiles apologetically to the two sweet couple across him.

You run your eyes to the TV screen to look for another substitute, but Taeyong was faster.

“No problem, an extra straw will do. How much for the last cup?” Taeyong hands Doyoung his card and swipes the bill.

You squeal deep inside your heart, how come Taeyong could always do a new sweet action every time we go out?!

“You sure don’t want anything else?” you ask when Taeyong lets go off his straw after a good five sips.

Taeyong shakes his head and raises his thumb to wipe a trace of chocolate from your lips, “No, you can have them all. It tastes good and I know you like them so much.” Taeyong kisses his thumb and cleans the chocolate from your lips.

You playfully punch Taeyong, “What’s into you?! Why are you suddenly this sweet!”

Taeyong laughs it off and rolls his eyes, “Because I am a nice boyfriend? Come on admit it—” you shut him off with a quick peck “—I’m going to have heart attack (y/n), if you are making that a habit.”

After making a loud sip to ensure you leave nothing on the bottom of the glass, you and Taeyong step out of the lovely café. Both of you freeze when you see people carrying umbrellas and celebrating something.

“The first snow!” Both of you choir and giggle upon welcoming the cold winter!

You reach for a folded umbrella you had brought in your pocket and this time take the lead to pull the taller man closer and tries your best to raise the umbrella to his height. Taeyong cannot oppress his gummy smile and allows you do your thing.

“I am not taking care of a sick Taeyong again, that’s why I read the weather forecast earlier and they predicted the first snow the fall. Turns out they were accurate this year, come Yong let’s walk under the first snow!” you sneakily place your hand into Taeyong’s coat and the taller simply holds your hand.

You both have fun for a moment under the first snow, took some pictures and updated your social media platforms.

“The snow is falling harder; shall we head home?” Taeyong worries for your health. The two of you are responsible for coming on working days, falling sick is something you two can’t afford.

You do not refuse; along your careful steps on the slippery grounds the couple doesn’t stop talking at all. You will find new topics whenever a topic seems to come to an end. Tonight is a good date night. The date night ends with Taeyong ushering you back to your Apartment room.

“Goodbye Yongie, thank you for tonight!” you shake your wet umbrella.

“No problem sweetie, I’ll be going now,”

“Wait—” you run to your room and return not long after it, you get on the tip of your toes and wrap a warm red scarf over Taeyong “—take that with you, it’s my winter present. Stay safe okay and call me when you got home.” you bury your face on his chest as he hugs you  tight.

“Thanks honey, Good night.” Taeyong steps back and waves his hand.

You wiggle your hand in panic, “Oh take the umbrella! And please just grab a taxi!” you push your umbrella to Taeyong’s hand.

Taeyong chuckles and tousles your soft hairs, “Yes maam! I can take care of myself—” Taeyong winks and you only roll your eyes. The tall blonde makes his stealing move and kiss the plump lips of yours before finally going back home.

__

Sun rises and sets, moon shines and hides, the world rotates, and time runs. Your love for each other blooms, although the relationship has ups and downs, the two of you can overcome the big waves and sail your ship to another calm ocean. A calm sea will never make a skilful sailor, and one day the biggest wave crashes to their ship, and you feel like you are forcefully drowned into the dark deep grief of heart breaks.

The road is crowded, well at least there are cars speeding in the road, and your sparkly eyes are fixed on a “sweet” scene in front of you. Yeah sweet if the people you saw were someone you did not know, or your best friend; but seriously not sweet if it’s your boyfriend you saw over the road holding hands with another pretty girl, wrapped in an expensive suit looking all lovey dovey with your man. Maybe Taeyong did not know or see you on the other side of the road, but you cannot mistake that man as someone else. Your eyes turn red; you fetch your phone and take the speed dial to call Taeyong. You wait for a moment with your eyes fixed on the two people across you.

The pedestrian traffic turns green, and you see the two of them walking to cross the road. You quickly hide yourself in an old payphone box while still listening to the waiting tone and keeping an eye on Taeyong. When Taeyong made it with the sweet smiling guy to the same street as yours, you swear your call was sent to voicemail. Taeyong also presses his screen earlier, hufth he didn’t even hesitate to reject your call. Insteaad, Taeyong looks so happy walking with this new girl. Your jealousy and suspicion completely take over you, you lean over the small phone box and stare at your screen emptily.

“Sorry, busy can’t pick up your call.” taeyong’s message appears in his notification bar.

You swallow the stuck lump in your throat; disappointed and angry, you run back to your apartment. You were planning to buy dinner and surprise Taeyong in his office for working overtime. If his vocabulary for overtime means having a walk with another woman, heol you won’t bother coming to see him.

You lock yourself in your room and cry your heart out, your stomach grumbles, but your heart aches more. You ignore all of the calls and messages in your phone. Thirty minutes later you wipe your eyes and after ensuring your heart you need to do this: you text a number.

“Yuta, you’re right… I’m coming to the dinner tomorrow. What’s his name again?”

This time you regret not listening to your friends when they warned you about your boyfriend playing fire behind your back. You are too naïve and blunt to realize Taeyong has slowly changed. He was not as sweet as he used to, he got busy, and he rarely picked your calls. At first you simply forgive him; thinking he must be busy with his works, turns out you are living blindly.

Taeyong paces in his room while sticking phone to his ear. He bites his lips when the line beeps but no one seems to answer the call.

“Pick up. Pick up (Y/n)…. Please… I’m worried sick…” Taeyong ends the waiting and jumps to the message room. He sends more messages asking if you are okay, why are you not picking up calls, and why are you not reading his messages.

Taeyong feels guilty rejecting your call earlier, but he cannot pick the call there when he thinks his coworker has a big crush and is flirting with him. Taeyong cannot bring himself to answer the call and crushes the cute girl’s dream. Yes, his co-worker is lately clinging on his side, and Taeyong cannot lie and say she’s unattractive. She is a calm and nice woman, good with works, and Taeyong finds it hard to keep his heart stable when she’s around.

Taeyong thought he saved the girl from crying in the streets, when in reality his real girlfriend is the one crying on the busy streets… by herself. Poor Taeyong doesn’t know this.

__

The next morning, you did not bat an eye nor reply any of Taeyong’s messages. You muted his number and prepare for work. As you spray your perfume, the front door beeps open and a tall man you used to love, but now hate, shows up with a bouquet of yellow flowers on his hand.

“Good morning sunshine! What’s with the cloudy face?” Taeyong extends his hand to give you the arrangement.

You look at his sickening handsome smile and walk to take your working bag. “Nothing. I’m tired of work and this life full of lies.”

Taeyong frowns, “What do you mean?”

You  just hum an “I don’t know” tone and occupy yourself with packing your lunch and laptop.

Taeyong walks to the kitchen table and picks your phone, he scrolls through the notifications and shakes his head, “WOW! You haven’t opened my text, not a single one! Why?” he sounds confused.

You’re the type to always have your phone on your nose almost every second, what’s with leaving him unread?

You snatch your phone, “I fell asleep earlier yesterday after you said I shouldn’t come and have dinner with you, since you’re taking overtime.”

Taeyong sighs, “Come on (y/n), you’re acting like this just because I denied your offer to eat dinner together?” you walk away.

“Don’t act so childish. We can always have dinner together tonight or other nights.” Taeyong snaps.

You keep your cold face on;  take your lunch and working bag, and slip into your shoes. Taeyong shadows you all over the place.

“Really? Then why did you cancel it yesterday?” You hold on to the door knob.

“I had a sudden meeting.” Taeyong lies quickly.

“Oh so now you call walking with another woman without companion, while acting lovely is your definition of meeting. To me I call that a secret date mister!” you stomp your foot, “Now go! Leave! I am tired of your lies!!” you exit the room, but Taeyong holds a grip of your hand.

“but…” Taeyong is cut off by your voice “For your information Taeyong, I saw you with my own eyes walking with a woman and rejecting my call.” you raise your tone and his face turns red. You break your hand free and rush to the parking lot.

Taeyong runs after you, but luck must’ve left him today for the lift closes before he can reach you. You are clearly mad and fed up, for you are not trying to do anything to clean up the misunderstanding.

Your day goes on differently, you are still absorbed in the sadness and pain, while Taeyong… Taeyong thinks today’s problem will end like any others. His day is smooth and the woman from yesterday even offers him coffee. Upon seeing Taeyong busy checking his phone; waiting for someone to call or chat; she asks him, “What’s bothering you?”

Taeyong thinks for a while, should he tell her what actually happened, but what if things get darker and dangerous? After some consideration, Taeyong decides to use the help chance. He told her what happened yesterday and earlier this morning. She just laughs and comes up with a solution, “I can help you clarify this… Give me her number, I’ll talk to her.”

Taeyong denies that idea at first, but after some more convincing words from her, he gave up your phone number to her. He thought maybe you would listen to her.

Sure, her idea was not completely wrong, You answers her call in a friendly manner and you did not blame her for anything. You listened to all of her kind and sincere explanation, but your heart still cannot easily forgive Taeyong for doing it.

__

You dress up nicely in a bomber jacket and put on a cap to hide your puffy eyes. You take your step to greet your date tonight, the man Yuta told him about. Jung Jaehyun, son of the CEO of Neo corporation: Korea’s first leading group in food supply, while Taeyong is the son of the second leading group.

To put it into words, Jaehyun is a man of daydream. He is everything you expected when meeting a living prince charming. He talks in his deep voice, his choice of words are amazing, his fashion taste is casual yet daydreaming, his manners are polished as perfect as one can be, but no matter how nice and perfect Jaehyun is, your heart cannot stop comparing him to Taeyong. Taeyong is not as perfect as him, Taeyong is more of the clumsy type and silly. However, one thing for sure, you like Jaehyun’s jokes better than Taeyong’s.

His choice of place for a first meeting is way beyond expectation. You would have dressed up properly if you knew Jaehyun is bringing you to a secluded private restaurant. You seal your mouth tightly about this date, yet Taeyong knows.

You come home with a bright smiling face, Jaehyun had just dropped you off from his Mercedes-Benz G65. You secretly smile to yourself and wrap your jacket tighter as you enter the lift to reach the floor. You can’t stop humming small tunes while taking steps.

With a big surprised face, you take a step back when Taeyong greets you in his stern voice.

“Why are you here?” you sound annoyed. Your mood totally jumped from hype to down.

Taeyong raises his brow, “Am I not allowed to visit my lover? Beside I came here to check if she’s here yet, since she ignored my calls and texts.” You make your way to the kitchen and fill yourself a glass of water, “Well, sorry but I have someone to see tonight,” you shrug your shoulder.

Taeyong joins you to the small kitchen, “Yeah and I just found out my girl, without my acknowledge, went to meet another man and came home—” he glances at his watch, “—late, my girl came home pretty late. It’s 10!”

You finish your glass of water, and slam the cup a bit too hard, “So what? I’m big enough to come home whenever I want and I can take care of myself.”

“Who’s that man? How are you sure he is someone good?” Taeyong elevates his tone.

You take a deep breath and speak out loud clearly, “it’s none of your business! Even I did not know who the woman you’re with yesterday was and I did not ask you anything! I did not interrogate you Lee Taeyong!” you spit those words in one breath. You toss your jacket then lock yourself in the room. Taeyong knocks on your door relentlessly and all he gets is silence.

Silence from the loudest person is the scariest thing

You wake up with heavy head, puffy blood shot eyes, and a runny nose. You force yourselfto leave the bed and calls in for a day off today. You have called Jaehyun last night and told the new man everything, something in your heart screams that Jaehyun can help and Jaehyun will not hurt you like Taeyong did. With your beloved corgi walking beside you, You open the apartment door and freeze when you see Taeyong sleeping uncomfortably on the floor.

“Babo-ya,” You scoff in your mind and leave the big baby on the floor. You make yourself a glass of tea and gul an aspirin down your dry throat. You take your time writing a short note and stick it on Taeyong’s free arm. You bend to place a soft kiss on his temple, probably your last, and secretly leave.

Taeyong wakes up from the pain his back screams for sleeping on the floor, he yawns and stretches then looks around and realizes he had fallen asleep when begging you to open the door. He sees the post it on his arm and he quickly read it. His brow scrunches as the line gets down, and finally they widen and his mouth fell. Taeyong lost his sense of touch, hearing, and sight… he feels like a thunder just hit him and he’s drowned in his emotions. He slowly sits on the sofa and re-reads the nicely written letter. He makes sure to not miss any single word or get the wrong idea. But no matter how many times he checks the letter again, the words don’t change.

“(y/n) wants us to end it here,” Taeyong speaks to himself, the blonde quickly searches the house. Hoping to find the woman he was looking for, he needs to discuss this with you. Seriously you did not need to break up over a silly matter!

“(y/n)-ie, what do you mean? We can talk about this… where are you?” Taeyong puts on his shoes and coat.

“We don’t have to discuss anything Tae. We’re not meant to be, I realized we’re not made for each other. Our parents don’t even support this relationship we had for three and a half years. It’s over Taeyong, go get that woman and I will go my way.” You explain as best as you can.

“No, We need to meet. We’re not breaking up over phone. I don’t consider our relationship over just because you decided it by yourself. We need to meet.” Taeyong grips his phone harder.

“I can’t Tae, I’m no longer near you. Bye,” you said.

Taeyong hears the faint background sound and damn that you are in the airport, where the hell are you going now without telling him.

You turn off your call and sadly stare at the wallpaper. It’s a picture of happy Taeyong and you laughing under the mistletoe from last Christmas.

“Are we ready to go?” Jaehyun’s deep voice resonates beside you. You groggily nod and copy his steps to the boarding gate. You take one last heavy breath; yes you are leaving Korea and Taeyong behind. This is what your family wants, this is for the best.

You come from the family of the leading electronic cooperation in Korea; turns out your parents had made an agreement to make you and Jaehyun an official pair. Simply said your parents arranged your marriage with Jung family for the sake of business. Your family does not have a good history with the Lee family. Both Taeyong and you had been trying your best to keep your boat sailing despite the harsh wind made by your own families, but you have had enough. Both of you used to think if you are together, you can fight your families and live happily ever after, but that’s too good to be true.

Now, your parents have made a lot of agreements with The Jung family, and that explains why you are sent to leave Korea with Jaehyun the night when you reported Taeyong’s actions. Your father used the situation to break you apart, and he partly succeeded.

Right now, you are seated on the first-class flight to Britain, with your future fiancé (That’s what your parents insisted).

__

The loving couple separated without a clear ending, Taeyong still lives his life to the fullest he can, but everything is pointless when you are not in his life. He did not date anyone, he still holds on to the belief that you are still his girlfriend, and he is still committed to you, he woman he loves.

His colleague has tried a lot of things to set Taeyong up with a new date, but none of them seems to win his heart. Taeyong only attends the blind dates she made, just to respect her kindness and attention. That woman herself has won the heart of the cute guy in the milkshake shop Taeyong and you once visited, Doyoung. She was close with Taeyong because she needs help with winning the cute man’s heart. The night when you went home with Jaehyun, Taeyong was actually waiting for you to explain everything. Taeyong wanted to tell you that you don’t have to be jealous of the woman, for she has her heart and eyes for another man. Fate did not let him explain anything that night, and the next day you were already gone from his life.

Taeyong changes into a cold and quiet man, while you have opened your heart to the new man. You realize Jaehyun shares a lot of things in common with you. Knowing the new tall man with dimple is easy and both of you get along so well. You spend a good two years in England, and have to return to Korea when the working contract for Jaehyun ended.

–

The plane touched down on the land of Korea, where the leaves are starting to fall and the winds getting colder. You sigh it’s once again autumn, you always hate autumn.

Jaehyun feels he needs to check the office and sends you home by yourself. You did not mind, instead you are happy you can have your time alone here.

You take the taxi to a park you missed. A small park with benches for couples to seat and enjoy the falling leaves with the big Han River across them. You breathe in the autumn leaves and slightly smile when the memories you made here with Taeyong slowly floods his mind. A small tug is felt in your heart, how is that handsome blonde doing? You walk and walk then sit at one of the empty benches, your hand traces the old wood and smile when your eyes caught a small scribble that still managed to be intact even when seasons has changed.

You trace the craving and secretly hide a smile when the memory comes back in your mind.

The writing of Taeyong and (y/n) in a big heart, deriving from four years ago. You remembered craving your names cheesily on a park bench when the first leaf fell. You scoff when you realize a lot of things you did with Taeyong are associated with autumn.

You close your eyes for a while and found yourself awaken in surprise when a familiar voice greets you.

“(y/n)?” the voice sounds unsure, “(y/n)?! It’s really you?” this time it sounds surprised and a bit happy.

You open your eyes and gulp when the same man you left without news is here again in front of you. The man you shared love, the man you secretly hate and love, the same man who used to be your happiness. He looks different! He definitely loses weight, his hair is now plain and boring brown, his eyes no longer offers the star and galaxy you used to spend your time gazing. His voice didn’t change though, still the same deep voice that never fails to make you tremble.

“Taeyong, well… yes this is me.” you sheepishly admit.

“It’s been a while,” Taeyong opens his mouth. He takes the empty spot beside you.

“Look Taeyong, I don’t have much time,” you dare yourself to face him and hold your tears back. You almost broke down in tears when you once again sees the man you love standing here across you.

“I know it was hard for both of us, but that was the best for us. This is the best for us.” Taeyong stays quiet despite wanting to kiss you and tell you everything he kept to himself for a good two years, but no he wants to listen to you. He reflected for two years and he wanted to make up all his bad mistakes.

“Fate doesn’t let us be together… our family hates one another… we can’t… we just can’t be one Taeyong.” You bite your lips and hold your tears back. Your heart is breaking right now when you see the broken look in Taeyong’s eyes.

When you first saw Taeyong sitting beside you, you swore you saw a glint of hope in his eyes but now you completely kill it. You hate yourself for once again hurting Taeyong, but this is for their own goods.

You can no longer hold back your tears, the wall you made breaks down right in front of Taeyong. You hide your face in your hands and your shoulder moves as you express all of your bottled-up emotions. Something glints under the last rays of the sun and Taeyong moves closer to your side. He bravely takes you into a hug and he brings his thumb to wipe the crystals falling over your smooth cheeks. Taeyong cannot speak a word, his mouth goes mute all he knows is his life is completely dark now without you. It was dark already before when you left, but now when you clearly said that… Taeyong feels like dying.

“Goodbye Taeyong,” you stand up and walk to leave the broken hearted man. You turn one last time to see your unrequited love; and you force your last sweet smile, “Thank you for the memories.” you take quick steps to leave the park and Taeyong. A strong wind blows and makes the piles of orange dried leaves fly around and when it’s over. You are completely not anywhere to be seen.

Taeyong closes his eyes and memorizes the last words from his love, you left him completely now. (y/n) left his presence, his world, and his hopes. Taeyong fishes his jacket and pulls out a velvet box, he snaps it open and a simple diamond ring is shining there. Well, he’s been carrying this around since you left, he wanted to propose to you whenever he got the chance to see you , but turns out your ring finger is occupied already with the same diamond ring he had in mind will fit your slender finger. Taeyong keeps the ring again in the box and he pockets it again in his left chest. He lets his tears run through his face as he walks along with the last falling leaf.

He leaves the love of his life with tears and thousands of memories. Taeyong smiles bitterly when he remembers how you always hate autumn. Turns out all memories with you are prominent in autumn: your least favorite season.

flashback <<<

“I hate autumn Yong, can you imagine how selfless the tree is, letting the leaf die so it can live longer.” you pointed to an almost bald tree.

Taeyong pinches your cute cheeks, “Well yes the trees are selfish Sweetie, but did you see how sincere the leaves are? I’m sure the tree did not want the leaves to die, instead I think the leaf sacrifice itself so the tree can live,” you cut him, “But why Yong? Why must the leaves die for the tree?”

Taeyong holds his lover’s hand tighter in his jacket, “Because my (y/n)-ie, that way the tree can survive the harsh cold winter and make new leaf later on spring. That way the leaf and the tree are once again together!”

You nod your head, “Woah that’s a better theory! You should definitely be the one telling our kids bed time stories later on!” You cheerfully peck a kiss on Taeyong’s lips and blushes.

“Just like love, you must sacrifice for the one you love.” Taeyong leans in for another kiss.

“I love you Yong, now and forever!” You lean your head on Taeyong’s strong and wide shoulder.

“I love you most (y/n), I’ll be like the leaf in autumn!” Taeyong whispers to his world; you

The two people in different place share the same memory tonight.

As the moon shines and the first snow falls, they secretly whisper each other “I still love you.”

end

:”) thank you for reading 

[my-oh-my]

silver bullets and red roses: chapter one

hi! this is my first post, i started writing this series literally months ago and i forgot about it. i read it over again and got the cringe sweats but i edited it so its not overly horrific. dunkirk! harry was my late sexual awakening. so be kind!

Alex! Harry x Female OC

Warnings: PTSD (in a sense), war scenes - please, please, please don't read if anything makes you uncomfortable! its not worth it!

Summary: Rose Harrington joins her father in an attempt to save the men trapped at Dunkirk

Word Count: 1.73k

next chapter

masterlist

It was not difficult to spot Rose Harrington in a crowd of people. Her luminous smile was easy to find in room of others, her smile lit up the entire room – it was near impossible for her expression of happiness to catch onto your own. Though it seemed more challenging to find her than it originally seemed in the eyes of the Nazis situated in Dunkirk.

Rose Harrington was an exceptional young lady. Fluent in four different languages; Italian, French, German and English, the top of her school in academics, nurse and a British spy under the orders of the S.O.E to pose as a German Nazi nurse on the wretched battlefield in Dunkirk.

Though here she sat, on a dreary June day, listening cautiously to the radio cracking out words to keep the Nation up to date on the war situation. She watched as they steady rain tapped against the windowpane, the droplets racing each other to the bottom of the window. It had been a month since she returned from her deathly mission in Dunkirk, scenes which she had seen, endured, flashing through her mind every now and again causing her to inhale sharply or pinch her arm. She had seen death beyond belief, she had escaped death too many times to count on her polished fingers, but she would do it all again to know that she had helped a multitude of people by her actions.

A sudden noise awoke her from her unconscious daydreaming, the entrance door opening, causing her to jolt in her spot on the armchair. Rose gently rose to her feet, chasing the sound of the door and rattling. Her father’s figure came into view, making Rose ease her mind. She furrowed her brows as she noticed him search through doors of the cabinet, throwing keys onto the dark wooden surface on top.

“What’s happening?” Rose questioned, walking closer towards her father, who looked up at her in light shock, “They’ve called for little boats to rescue the men at Dunkirk, I’m going” He muttered, inspecting a key before placing it in his pocket and turning around in a hurry to the cupboard on the other side of the entrance. Rose studied him, determination beginning to course through her veins, “Ok, I am coming too” she pronounced softly, slipping on her black oxfords, “No. No you are not. You have done more than enough with this war. Plenty” He ordered, pointing his finger towards Rose sternly to which she returned with a shake of her head, “No. I want to do more. I can do more. It is for my country. You need help anyhow.” She insisted, clearly not straying from her decision by shrugging on her coat.

Joseph Harrington was a Captain in World War I. He suffered, he had to make several hard decisions which would haunt him in his later years. He loved his family dearly, but the weight of war on his shoulders sometimes became too heavy for him. On some occasions, when fireworks would boom through the neighbourhood on New Year’s Eve or he would read a newspaper recalling the events in the war, he would burst into fits of rage. Chairs, glassware and the delicate skin of the ones he loved would break when he came into these fits, leaving tears stained on everyone’s cheeks as they began to clean the mess made, Joseph sitting in his arm chair; a glass of bourbon resting in his trembling hands. The Harringtons knew that it was just shell shock, that he did not mean to do such things and they still loved him, but that did not stop them from pits of fear overwhelming their stomachs. Joseph was positive that letting Rose come with him was one of those decisions which would leave him overcome with distraught in the future, but he also knew his daughter. She was determined, she never gave up.

“You’re just like your Mother” he sighed, grabbing a bundle of ropes out of the cupboard and opening the front door, Rose smiled graciously before walking swiftly out the door.

“Diese britischen Bastarde werden keine Woche länger durchhalten (These British bastards won’t last a week)” a man spat, blood pouring out of his arm, a sizable gun shot wound evident in his bicep, “Wir töten sie wie nichts (We’re killing them like its nothing)” he continued. Rose sat him down on a stretcher, tying a bandage around the wound tightly whilst trying to not listen to the Nazi’s gross bragging. “Was passiert da draußen? (What’s happening out there?)” Rose asked innocently, looking up at the man’s wicked blue eyes curiously.

“Sie schicken sie nur unvorbereitet ab (They’re just sending them off unprepared)” he replied glancing at the other men in the open area, “Wir greifen sie heute Abend an, ein offenes Gebiet entlang der Küste des Strandes, wo sie sitzen (We're attacking them tonight, an open area along the coast of the beach where they're sitting)” he smirked proudly as Rose returned it with one of her own (of course it was fake, unbeknownst to him). “Ich weiß, dass du einen guten Job machst, das machst du immer, was mir den Job als Krankenschwester erleichtert (I know that you do a good job, you always do that, which makes my job as a nurse easier)” She smiled, beginning to clear the blood made by the man, who chuckled lightly at her joke.

“Heil Hitler (Hail Hitler)” he proclaimed, to which Rose strained a smile of pride. The man rushed away, laughing along with a bunch of men in their Nazi uniforms a few metres away from her. She made a mental note to ensure she did not leave any details out in her telegraph back home, these details meaning life or death for many men.

Rose could not see home. Nor could she see the blood-stained beaches of Dunkirk. She could only see the unforgiving deep blue waters of the ocean which stretched for kilometres, and boats. There were boats of all different sizes and colours littered along the water, all come together to save their men. She inhaled deeply, smelling the saltiness on the sea breeze and the petrol fumes expelling from her boat’s engine.

“It’s quite amazing, isn’t it?” Rose spoke out against the apprehensive silence which clouded the boat, “What is” her father muttered, eyes on the water in front of him as he steered the boat, “The number of people, number of boats” she replied looking around them at them all, a sense of patriotism filling her insides. The flag of the union jack whipped around behind them, cracking with the pride of the British.

The boat was a moderate size, with a timber finish and a deck below. It had become slightly rusty from the lack of use, blue paint beginning to crack and chip off on the sides. Nevertheless, she was still the Harrington’s beauty, Pegasus was her name. Before the war, before Rose had grown up, it was a family boat. On warm summer Saturdays, the Harringtons would take Pegasus for a dip into the Iris Canal, with packed ham sandwiches and a treat of a biscuit, courtesy of Doreen Harrington. Doreen and Joseph would sit back in the boat, Doreen perhaps reading a book whilst Joseph nostalgically smoked cigarettes. They seemed so calm in comparison to Charles and Rose, who were playfully splashing the cool water of the river at each other, laughter floating down the canal.

If you had met Charles and Rose, you would be surprised to hear that they were not Siamese twins separated. They were each other’s best friend, they never fought, they simply enjoyed one another’s company. Charles was a year older than his sister, a shy young man with outstanding engineering talents. As the war began to unfold, the unspeakable idea arose in the Harrington household brought up by Charles. “I must go, it would be cowardly if I didn’t” he spoke calmly to Rose who stared down into her lap, tears rolling unconsciously down her rosy cheeks. 

“Its not cowardly at all Charles. It is ok to not go, to say no to being killed.” She choked out, looking up at Charles who was standing in the doorway of her bedroom. “I’m not going to be killed, Rose. I will survive.” He breathed, walking towards Rose and kneeling in front of where she sat on her bed. Rose looked back down into her lap, fiddling with her perfectly polished hands. “Rose” he whispered, wrapping his hands around Rose’s little ones to stop her anxious fiddling. Rose stared deeply into her brother’s, the calming blue matching her own. “I promise, I will survive” he continued, a small sympathetic smile growing on his face. Rose breathed deeply, the thought of losing her brother becoming a little less overwhelming at his promise. “Even if you do survive, you’ll turn out like Dad” she muttered, a single tear falling. Charles sighed shakily, wiping the tear away with the back of his hand. “Not if I can help it” he smiled sympathetically, “I don’t think I’ll ever be as bald as him” he joked, grinning largely. Rose chuckled, sniffling up her last bits of sadness and pulling her broken parts back together.

The faint outline of the grey shores of Dunkirk beach began to appear as Rose and her father drew closer to the men. Rose inhaled, looking out towards the shore. She began to feel a slight pull at her stomach, and she hated herself for it. These men had been sitting ducks for months, a multitude dying in the meantime, she had merely spent a month in Dunkirk. Now was not the time to be fussed about her own apprehension, but rather saving heartbreak from families.

The dreadful smell of smoke and burning oil filled her nostrils, making her become suddenly alert. She studied along the surface of water, noticing a large ship beginning to capsize – smoke puffing from the wreck. “Dad” she walked over to the port side of Pegasus, trying to catch a closer glance. Joseph looked over to his daughter, staring past her shoulder at the mess of ships and smoke on the water. He remained focused on the sight, turning the boat around and accelerating her to the fastest she could go with a great roar from the engine.

[lonelyheartsmotel]

Can you write a fic where when Troy gets captured by pirates, Abed goes to save him.

i’m sorry, you probably wanted something set in canon universe but i fully went pirates of the carribbean inspo with it. hope you enjoy anyway!

read the full fic on ao3

first 1000 words below the cut

“You look good, Nadir, quit fretting.” Admiral Jeffrey Winger’s heavy hand came to rest on Abed’s shoulder. Winger peered at Abed’s reflection in the mirror and smiled. The corners of his blue eyes crinkled. 

Abed noticed burgeoning streaks of white in Winger’s already pale hair. The admiral was no longer the sprightly young lieutenant who’d rescued Abed from the flaming ruins of his hometown fifteen years ago.

“You’ve grown,” Winger said softly. “Within a year, you’ll be ready to wed.”

Abed winced. “I suppose you’ve already decided to whom.”

“It has been decided for years, Nadir.” Winger frowned. “You know what a marriage to my Annie would do for you. You’ll soar through the ranks. She’s a good woman and she’ll make a good wife for you. And…” Winger cleared his throat. “You know I already consider you a son. But it would please me greatly to see it put in writing.”

Abed and Annie, Admiral Winger’s beloved daughter, had been best friends ever since Winger had taken Abed in. They loved one another, but not in that way. Not in the way that mattered most to Winger.

Abed pressed his lips together. Winger had already heard all of his arguments. Instead, Abed adjusted the silken cravat around his neck, tugged on the lapels of his velvet coat, and turned on his polished heel. His sword’s scabbard knocked lightly against his leg.

“Let’s get on with this night, shall we?” Abed offered Admiral Winger a weak smile.

Admiral and ensign strode into the soaring ballroom and were immediately enveloped in the burble and chatter of the guests milling about the glistening floor in sweeping gowns and coattails of every colour.

“Father! Abed!” Annie Winger dashed up to the pair, holding up her voluminous green skirts in a most unseemly manner. Her full cheeks flushed with exertion and her blue eyes shone with a little more than simple excitement. 

Abed indicated the almost-empty wine glass in Annie’s hand. “You couldn’t have waited for us before you got started?”

Annie rolled her eyes even as she kissed her father’s whiskery cheek. “You can’t have expected me to sit around and listen to Mister Hawthorne with the strange ivory wig go on about how eligible a bachelor his fifty-year-old son is for an hour?”

Abed shuddered. “No. You made the right decision.” He offered Annie his elbow and she took it with a grin and a squeeze.

Winger clapped Abed on the back. “I’ll be off to mingle, now.” He wrinkled his nose and snatched a flute of champagne off a nearby tray. “You kids have fun.” He winked at Abed and disappeared into the crowd.

“Ugh,” Annie said. “He’s just as bad as Hawthorne.”

“He means well,” Abed said lightly. He steered them away from the throng and toward the French doors that opened onto the moonlit balcony.

A glittering black sea stretched before them, the moon’s pale light skipping across its quivering surface. Abed could see the S.S. Greendale moored at the docks slightly to the east, as well as the shapes of several other ships moving peacefully across the horizon.

Annie sighed and combed her fingers through her straight brown hair, as she always did when she was feeling thoughtful. 

“Something on your mind?” Abed asked.

“I don’t want to marry you, Abed.”

“Ouch.”

Annie swatted at his arm. “You know what I mean. I know you don’t want to marry me, either.”

Abed looked down at the polished marble balustrade they leaned against. Just a few metres below was the earth — almost invisible in the dark of night, but Abed knew exactly where the bushes were, where the patches of weeds grew beneath. 

“We don’t have much of a choice,” he said.

“My friend, Britta Perry, did,” Annie said, tracing a wistful finger along the rim of her empty glass. “She married the woman she loved. I’d like to do that.”

“Do you have anyone in mind?”

Annie frowned. “I don’t know.” She pushed away from the balustrade and turned to lean her back against it. Her long hair swung over the edge. If she weren’t the Admiral’s daughter, she’d have been scolded and disallowed to attend the ball with her hair loose like that. “What do you think love’s like?”

“The only love I’ve ever known is that of your father’s. And yours.”

“Yes, but…” Annie sighed again. “Don’t you ever wonder what it’s like to have that one person? The one person you would lay down your life for, would spend the rest of your days with? The person you could share adventures with and write love poems about?”

Abed shot Annie an amused look. “Are you speaking from experience?”

Annie blushed. “Only from experience reading romance novels. Although…”

“Yes?”

“There is this girl I met in town recently, Rachel—” 

“Oh, Rachel who runs the bookshop? Yes, I know her.”

“Yes, I —” Annie cut herself off, whipping around to face the sea again. “Did you hear that?”

“Hear what?”

“There was a sound. Like a shout, or something.”

Abed scanned the tranquil sea. Nothing seemed to have changed. 

“There it is! Again!” Annie said.

Abed heard it too, this time. The sound was unmistakable — one that made the blood rush through his veins with renewed fervor, made the hairs on the back of his neck stand. Raised voices, the clamour of metal against metal.

The sound of a swordfight.

Abed’s hand wrapped around the hilt of the sword sheathed at his hip. The sound came from somewhere on the docks — the fight must have been hidden behind the S.S. Greendale’s bulky shape. He stood on his toes and peered to the east. 

There was only one new arrival to the scene: the familiar silhouette of another ship, its flag rippling in the wind. Moonlight fell upon the flag and illuminated the three buildings painted on it, the middle building standing twice as tall as the two that flanked it. Abed’s blood ran cold.

“Annie.” Abed’s voice went low, authoritative. “Find your father. Tell him that the City College has docked on our shores. Tell him to send his men.”

Annie gasped. “The pirates?”

Abed nodded.

“What about you? What are you doing?”

Abed swung a long leg over the marble railing. “I’m going ahead. See you later, Annie.” He leaned forward, kissed Annie’s forehead, and jumped into darkness.

[atinytokki]

𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐀𝐥𝐥

Chapter 3: I Love My Desire 

“I met him— Babylon— along with the rest of Eden’s crew when I ran away with them and joined their voyage east. He was the ship surgeon and cook.”

Hongjoong was seated again, finally delving into the tale of the sorcerer who was tracking them down at every turn. The officers were listening in rapt attention, save for Wooyoung who had gone off to find San.

“He was always kind and welcoming to me. He mended my clothes when I put holes in them, and then he taught me how to stitch them back together myself. The Babylon I knew at the start of that journey would never have betrayed us.”

There was a widespread shuffling from the audience. They had an idea of where this was going.

“He became interested in mystic arts when he found an old spellbook at a village market on one of our stops. No one saw a problem with his studying it, and he became quite skilled. His specialty was altering appearances, especially his own. Shapeshifting got us out of several scrapes on our way east... but gradually, he became consumed. Babylon had taken a turn for the dark arts at some point and he changed bit by bit until it was clear he wasn’t the same person anymore. And he wasn’t on our side anymore either.”

Memories played out in his mind and onto the twisting shadows on the wall. “When it was discovered that Babylon was killing crew members one by one to perform a blood ritual, Maddox and the other officers begged Eden to kill him and put an end to the slaughter. But Eden couldn’t do it. Instead he marooned Babylon with nothing but his spellbook, at his own request.”

“That’s why he’s responsible for the threat on our lives,” Mingi hummed in understanding.

Hongjoong nodded. “Somehow Babylon has taken the form of an old sorcerer, allied himself with the Navy and caught on to us. All because Eden couldn’t kill one of his own crew, one of his closest friends, no matter what he had done...”

There was a tense silence over the officers for a moment, before the question on all their minds was finally voiced.

“Would you...?”

“Don’t.” Seonghwa gave Jongho the death glare for daring to pose the question. Jongho shrugged and averted his eyes.

Hongjoong caught on anyway. “Let’s hope it doesn’t ever come to that,” he answered firmly. 

“Captain!” A voice outside was growing louder and soon the door was flung open, revealing a breathless San. “Captain, come quickly! It’s Wooyoung!”

Wasting no time, all the officers raced after the frantic surgeon as he led them back to the sickbay, where Wooyoung was unconscious on the floor. “I need help to lift him, someone—”

San was cut off by Jongho reaching past him and scooping up the motionless body himself, laying him gently on the examination table and awaiting further instruction. 

“What happened to him, San?” Seonghwa tried to catch the younger’s eye, but San was flying around the room, checking that everything else was still in order. “I don’t know, I just walked in and he was like this. I can’t seem to get him awake...” he trailed off as he found what he was looking for, a vial of smelling salts. “Hopefully this works,” he bit his lip and leaned over Wooyoung, brushing the opened vial just under his nose. 

Wooyoung shot up off the table in sudden alertness before descending into a coughing fit and allowing Jongho to push him back down.

“Wooyoung! Are you alright?”

It took a moment to identify which of the seven figures in the room was speaking to him, but Yunho entered his field of vision and repeated himself. Wooyoung opened his mouth to answer but only a hoarse grunt was produced.

He frowned and placed a hand to his neck. The skin was raw and red and Wooyoung suddenly flashed back to the arms encircling his throat, cutting off his air supply.

Again, he sat up straight and again, Jongho pushed him back down. Wooyoung gave him a frustrated glance but began to motion at his throat and the door behind the crowded officers.

“Someone was in here?” Mingi guessed along with the hand movements. “Did they strangle you?” Judging from Wooyoung’s fervent nodding, he was correct.

“But who?” Seonghwa breathed out in disbelief. “Who onboard would do such a thing?”

Wooyoung stilled and tried to think back to the fleeting memories before darkness closed in. All he could offer Seonghwa was a shake of the head.

“You don’t know?” Seonghwa turned to San, who had taken a seat and watched the proceedings with worry in his eyes. “Did you see anyone leaving?” 

“No,” San cleared his throat and finally looked up at him. “And no one was admitted to the sickbay today. There shouldn’t have been anyone in here.”

The troubled glances the other officers were sending around were lost on San as he poured Wooyoung a glass of water and offered it to him. After a few careful gulps the patient was finally able to clear his throat and croak out his account.

“I came to look for you, San, and it was dark and empty when I walked in. Someone came up behind me and, well...” Again Wooyoung rubbed his throat gingerly. “I fell unconscious.”

“He can’t have been out long,” Mingi realised, doing the math in his head. “He only left the Captain’s cabin around 15 minutes ago.”

“Check the area then, Mingi,” Hongjoong ordered. “Whoever it was may still be nearby.” Mingi nodded and made his way out. “Let’s give him some space to recover,” Yunho suggested, nudging Jongho and Yeosang out the door with him. Seonghwa and Hongjoong followed, both retreating to their living quarters, and San was the last one out with a forlorn glance at Wooyoung who lay, silent, on the examination table. 

“Don’t go.”

San stopped in his tracks and slowly turned back around. “Please,” Wooyoung croaked out. “I need to know what happened to me.”

San’s face was unreadable, but he complied, closing the door and joining Wooyoung’s side. He wouldn’t make eye contact, and the ball in Wooyoung’s stomach was growing. “I’m sorry, but I really don’t know.”

“Don’t know or don’t remember?”

San’s head snapped up at Wooyoung’s uncanny question. “What do you mean by that?” He was suddenly on the defence, and Wooyoung sat up slowly, one hand extended to calm him while he advanced closer.

“I’m just asking where you were when I was attacked and what you saw when you found me.”

A dry swallow was forced down San’s throat and he almost decked Wooyoung when he felt his hand on his shoulder. “What are you so nervous about?” The whispered concern loosened San’s tongue and he finally admitted, “I don’t remember.”

Wooyoung’s breath caught in his throat. “The attacker got you too?” San was shivering now, but leaned in to Wooyoung’s touch. “I think, I-I don’t know what happened. I went to the forecastle to clear my head and then there’s just a gap in my memories... Like someone took them away from me! The next thing I remember was coming back here and finding you on the ground. I meant it, Wooyoung, really! There wasn’t anyone or anything strange!”

Despite the reeling of his own head, Wooyoung hushed San and drew him closer. 

Someone was loose on this ship, and until they were caught they would be a danger to everyone. 

...

“Mingi, don’t play dumb. You and I both know San is hiding something.”

“So, what, that means he’s aiding and abetting? Or does it mean he’s the attacker? I don’t want to throw accusations around, Yunho.”

The two were investigating all the corners and crevices of the ATEEZ for anything— and anyone— even the least bit suspicious. “Come, now, I’m not throwing anything around. It’s just awfully convenient that San happened to be out here when Wooyoung was being strangled and didn’t notice anything  out of order at all, don’t you think?” Yunho frowned and peeked between the necks of cannons on the gun deck.

“Alright, I’ll entertain this train of thought then,” Mingi halted and turned to face Yunho, his arms crossed with an air of skepticism. “Why would San attack Wooyoung? Why would San attack anyone? He’s San!”

Yunho opened his mouth and shut it again before he said anything hasty. “I’m just trying to make sense of his behaviour lately,” he finally sighed, unsure himself of where this train of thought was going. “Don’t you think it’s strange that the attacker left Wooyoung alive? His grip was enough to knock him out; he easily could’ve finished the job. That’s the real mystery here.”

Mingi shook his head, easily picking up on the sudden topic change and redirecting it. “Yunho, has something happened between you and San? Did he do something on the island... something that has to do with the demon that possessed you?”

The look Yunho gave him made his blood run cold. “I’m not even entirely sure what I saw... but he’s up to something. And I really don’t think it’s in his control anymore.”

Mingi paled at this. “Who else knows?” He lowered his voice to a near whisper and stepped closer, just in case any powder monkeys were hanging around.

“Wooyoung,” Yunho listed. “Anyone he’s told, so probably Yeosang... potentially Hongjoong-hyung... I don’t know, if I’m honest.”

Mingi wrung his hands down his face in a moment of honest weakness. “I don’t know what to do about this, but I can predict what Captain will say.”

Yunho nodded at him and finished the thought, “See if it blows over. Keep an eye on everyone. Be careful who we talk to.” 

Mingi cracked a smile at this. “You’re almost better at my job than me. I’ll mention it to Captain, from now we should investigate quietly.” The two nodded in perfect sync and moved on to the next deck.

...

The eyes were back. 

In every nightmare, and every time Hongjoong reimagined the scene of his parents’ deaths, the eyes watched him and did nothing.

He awoke with a cry after he plunged into the sea and his head made contact with something, like it always did. Red strands of hair stuck up in every direction, and he rubbed tear tracks off his face until he met eyes with Seonghwa.

Both of them almost jumped out of their skin, equally surprised to see another pair of eyes on them in the darkness. 

“I’m sorry,” Hongjoong mumbled, still frozen in place. “Didn’t mean to wake you.”

Seonghwa’s stare didn’t reveal his state of mind, but something about it was very disarming despite coming straight out of a nightmare where it was the eyes on Hongjoong that drove him mad. 

“Nothing to apologise for,” Seonghwa finally said, tugging the blanket on him closer. His gaze persisted, and Hongjoong wasn’t sure if he was seeing concern or some kind of fascination. “If you’d like to talk about it—”

“I don’t need to talk about it,” Hongjoong cut him off and instantly regretted it. “I mean, it’s alright. Just go back to sleep.” 

“Is it Eden?”

Hongjoong was mid-movement, trying to roll over so that he wasn’t facing the elder boy but froze again and peered over at him. Seonghwa simply looked back, expectant.

“No, I-I don’t know what it is.” Hongjoong knew Seonghwa had something to say, so he let the silence fill space in time. Both just sitting and waiting.

Instead, Seonghwa stood from his bed and went to pull something out of a drawer in the desk. Crossing to Hongjoong, he opened his hand to show him the trinket resting in his palm.

The compass from the treasure.

“It’s been pointing south ever since you altered course,” Seonghwa explained. “For some reason instead of following it, it follows us. Tell me, Hongjoong. Why are we going south?”

Hongjoong swallowed and bowed his head. “I know I promised to bring you to the mainland, and I’m going to keep that promise. But we need to stop Babylon, because he will keep causing trouble for us until we do. We can find an island to hide at in the southern archipelago, and we can lure him in.”

Seonghwa scanned Hongjoong up and down before giving up and sitting on the edge of his bed. “I can’t tell if you want me to go or stay, I’ll admit.”

This conversation again.

“It doesn’t matter what I want,” Hongjoong insisted. “This is your chance to go home, that’s your decision, Seonghwa. Whichever choice you make, I’ll agree to.”

“Then why are you still pushing for finding Eden, Hongjoong?”

Finally Seonghwa’s voice raised past a whisper. “Be honest with me. Be honest with yourself.”

“We need him to stop Babylon—”

“What makes you think he will be able to go through with it the second time around?”

“He never makes the same mistake twice.”

“What makes you think he’ll even show up at all?”

Hongjoong had to stop the urge to grind his teeth together. “If there’s one regret I know he has, it’s Babylon. We all knew he’d be back to haunt us one day, and now he’s here. Eden won’t fail us again.”

“This is twice he’s failed you now, don’t you think—”

“You didn’t know him, Seonghwa.” Exasperated, Hongjoong threw the covers off and shoved his feet into his shoes. “If the compass points south then we must be on the right course.”

Seonghwa stood to stop him but he strode to the door as if to leave the conversation when he suddenly stopped in his tracks.

“The compass hand followed us south...”

Seonghwa heard the realisation from Hongjoong and looked down at the compass in his hand until it hit him too.

“Babylon isn’t the only one following us!” 

Hongjoong had turned back around, mood completely changed and previous argument flung out the window. “Eden is too!”

He approached the bed again to get another look at the compass in Seonghwa’s hand. “The compass must be pointing to him. It is his after all, that would make the most sense, wouldn’t it?”

Seonghwa was loathe to admit it but he had to agree it made the most sense. “Yes,” he conceded. “It does seem Eden is following us. But we need to be ready for Babylon nonetheless— if he couldn’t kill him then, there’s no guarantee he’ll kill him now.”

Hongjoong could agree on that much, and pulled his shoes back off, releasing the tension he hadn’t realised was building up in his body. The air was clearer now, and his eyelids were heavy again. He sunk back into the covers and lay back, ready for sleep but not for the nightmares.

“Are you sure you don’t want to talk about your dream?” Seonghwa said, quieter this time, and from his position at the foot of Hongjoong’s bed. Hongjoong felt bad for being upset with Seonghwa, but the older boy had an astounding ability to get inside his head and voice his own doubts. 

“It’s just a memory, not a real dream,” he admitted in a quiet voice. Perhaps saying out loud would make it go away. “Except...”

“Except what?”

“If I tell you, it becomes your burden too.”

Seonghwa sat on the side of the bed, mindful of his proximity but eager to open Hongjoong up, stumbling blocks of stubbornness cast to the side. “I don’t care, tell me anyway.”

“It’s just the night my parents died, playing over and over, but there’s something out of place,” Hongjoong finally said. “A pair of eyes watching me as I become separated from them. They’re always there now, someone watching and doing nothing.”

Seonghwa sat back. It would explain Hongjoong’s reaction at seeing his own eyes on him when he awoke. Truthfully, Seonghwa had witnessed many a nightmare since moving in, and he always watched from the side, too frightened to say anything.  It was time to change that. 

“It might not make sense to you now, but I’m sure it will become clear with time,” he offered. “And besides, it can’t hurt you. It’s just a dream.” 

“Thanks, mother,” Hongjoong teased, settling back against his pillows.

“Why don’t I make you some tea or something, too?” Seonghwa returned, only half joking.

“No, no,” Hongjoong’s smile was back. “Not necessary. I’ll let you get to sleep now.” Seonghwa shook his head and returned to his own bed, turning the compass over in his fingers a few times. 

They’d find out what all this meant soon enough.

“Goodnight Hongjoong.”

“Goodnight Seonghwa.”

...

Jongho spied the speck of green on the horizon a few hours after the sun came up and reported it first thing. 

“Is that—?”

“The island where I built the ATEEZ? Yes,” Hongjoong informed him before handing over the spyglass to their eager youngest. “Swore I’d never return and yet here we are.”

“My, my,” Yeosang chuckled. “The past is really haunting us now, isn’t it?”

The officers (save for Wooyoung and San) were all assembled at the forecastle to scope out a landing spot. The island was barely more than a strip of land with some thick vegetation in the middle of it, and if it had somehow become inhabited in the few years since Hongjoong left, it didn’t show from the outer facade. 

“When do you think our tail will catch up, Yunho?” The captain turned to their master rigger, who had been keeping an eye out from the crow’s nest (and another eye on San in their quarters). “By sunset if he keeps up at the speed he’s going. But he’ll certainly be suspicious of why we stopped here.”

“As long as he walks into the trap, it doesn’t matter what he thinks,” Yeosang put in, wrestling the spyglass off of Jongho. The youngest pouted at him and turned to Hongjoong. “All the men are armed and ready. We can camouflage ourselves as well, if need be.”

“I’d prefer us to have to cover of nightfall,” Hongjoong sighed. It would be a much more effective trap if they were afforded that advantage. “Have you taken the gun teams as well?”

“No need,” a voice chimed in from behind them. It was Wooyoung, with San trailing behind. “I’m ready to fight.”

“Are you sure?” Seonghwa went to his side to check the bruises that had formed around his neck. “You might have to join physical combat if it gets bad.”

Wooyoung nodded fervently. “I’d never run from a battle. Especially not one the rest of you are fighting in.” He glanced at Yeosang, who nodded in approval. It would take more than a minor injury to keep him from staying by his side like he’d promised.

“If you’re sure,” Hongjoong tilted his head reluctantly. “Then we’d be glad to have you back. There’s work to do bringing the cannons to shore and preparing for the ambush.”

Wooyoung nodded and hurried to the gun deck. It was time to whip his crew back into shape.

By noon, the ATEEZ had landed and unloaded, following their captain as he showed them the best place to set up camp. The foliage was thick and good for concealing cannons and the pirates themselves, but there wasn’t much of an incline to angle their shots from. It would depend almost entirely on the element of surprise. 

All the officers and all the men set up for the fight, save one mate to remain with the ship. Wooyoung could see Yeosang’s hands shaking around the handle of his cutlass and gave him an encouraging shoulder squeeze. This wouldn’t be an easy hit and run merchant ship raid; it was Babylon.

He was unrelenting and hot on their heels. And he was coming for blood. 

“Has it changed since you were here?” Mingi remarked casually in Hongjoong’s direction, cleaning the inside of his blunderbuss and instructing Seonghwa on how to clean his. “Not a bit,” Hongjoong murmured back. “Though I hope there aren’t any more coastal jaguars.”

San’s eyes widened at this and he sent a wary glance towards the thicker jungle beyond them.

Luckily they didn’t need to kill a jaguar for their dinner, as Seonghwa had brought enough rations for all the men to share and they ate in shifts, always at least one pair of eyes on the horizon. They were prepared for the enemy to come at any time, though they desperately willed for the sun to go down and provide them with cover. 

Wooyoung clutched his gun closer to his chest. It was the waiting that tore him apart inside. Staring at the horizon until his eyes watered and he remembered to blink. Wondering how long the fight would last and how many they would lose on both sides. There were questionable motives all around, and uneasiness between the officers was running rampant, but for a moment there was a sense of unity in dread.

Once the sun began to set, the call went up from Yunho.

“He’s here.”

...

Taglist: @nightynightnyx @yunhopuff @celestial-yunho @theinvisablessed

A/N: Oof... it’s getting obvious that I prefer writing one on one dialogue lol. I know it’s later than I said it would be.. that’s because I didn’t like the entire middle section and rewrote it lol. Wish me luck in the 5 exams, paper, and performance that I have to do in the week and a half 😭 I literally read comments to motivate myself to write so please leave them if you want more of this and soon!!

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[searchingwardrobes]

Sweet Dreams (Are Made of This)

Happy birthday, @flslp87 ! I really hope you like this fic I wrote for you because it’s a little different. We've had conversations about our mutual love for Scarecrow and Mrs. King, so I put on an 80s playlist to get inspiration. I was struck by the line about traveling the seven seas in the Eurythmics song “Sweet Dreams (Are Made of This)” and the muse just took me here. I feel like there could be more to it, but I really liked the up in the air way I ended it. I actually think you could right part two with lots of steamy scenes with our ship, lol, because you are so good at that!

Summary: Nothing has been normal since Emma snatched that dreamcatcher from the motel. She keeps dreaming of a pirate with a hook with blue eyes the color of the forget-me-not and of a profound melancholy . . . or are they Emma’s dreams at all?

Rated G because our OTP doesn’t technically “meet.” And this could totally be canon in my opinion . . .

Trigger warning: I just thought I should warn everyone that I did something completely new for me: I wrote from Neal’s point of view and tried to get in his head and, you know, NOT make him a complete asshole. I know, I’m shocked myself.

Words: almost 4,000

Also on Ao3 and part of my Fandom Birthday Playlist

Tagging the usuals: @snowbellewells @let-it-raines @kmomof4 @whimsicallyenchantedrose @winterbaby89 @teamhook @bethacaciakay @thislassishooked @delirious-latenight-laughs @branlovestowrite @kday426 @jennjenn615 @tiganasummertree @shireness-says @optomisticgirl @welllpthisishappening @wellhellotragic @distant-rose @snidgetsafan

 Sweet dreams are made of this

Who am I to disagree?

I travel the world

And the seven seas,

Everybody's looking for something.

“Aw look, the granola family left a dreamcatcher!”

Emma turned to Neal with the dreamcatcher dangling from her fingertips, smile

gracing her face. Neal, however, frowned in confusion.

“You know,” Emma continued, drawing closer to her boyfriend’s side, “it catches the bad dreams so you only have good dreams.”

“Right,” he chuckled, and Emma shook her head as she hung the dreamcatcher back on the lampshade. Neal was always funny about things like that: fables, legends, fairy tales. It never failed; he always changed the subject when they came up. She got it, of course. Who wants to believe in that sort of thing when all life has handed you is a shit show?

“You know what we should do?” Changing the subject, as usual, yet Emma didn’t protest when he pulled her into his arms.

“What?” Emma wrapped her arms around his neck.

“Maybe we should stop this whole Bonnie and Clyde routine. Settle down.”

Emma laughed, shaking her head as she stepped out of his embrace. “Where? Neverland?” He might as well believe in fairy tales, after all, to suggest something like that.

“I’m serious. We can get jobs, maybe even a house.”

He looked around and yanked the cheesy framed advertisement off the wall, the one that marked where other motels for this cheap chain could be found. He tossed it onto the bed and gestured to it with a flourish.

“Go ahead. Pick. Anywhere you want.”

Emma eyed him with hesitant enthusiasm, trying and failing to keep the smile off her face. She was so in love, so giddy with happiness living life with someone by her side for the first time, that his words actually sounded possible. She closed her eyes and put a finger on the map. When she opened them . . .

“Tallahassee,” she breathed, “does that mean there’s a beach?”

Neal grinned broadly, pulling her into his arms again. “It’s Florida. There’s gotta be a beach somewhere nearby.”

Emma kissed him. “Tallahassee.”

When they left, she grabbed the dreamcatcher and hid it inside her jacket. They needed it a lot more than the granola family did. No nightmares were going to snatch this dream away from her.

***********************************************************

Emma blinked, then rubbed her eyes. Why couldn’t she see clearly? She shook her head, but the hazy air, like cobwebs floating before her vision, remained.

“Milah! Milah!” a voice cried.

Emma turned towards the sound. There, in the middle of the hazy gray of the place was a man – a pirate? He certainly looked like one, dressed all in black leather from head to toe. He looked panicked, turning around in circles and yelling that same name – Milah - over and over.

Emma drew closer, a question on her lips, but her voice wouldn’t work. The man began to run towards a shadowy figure in the distance, and Emma found herself drawn after him. The man’s legs moved as if he were treading water in molasses, and likewise Emma couldn’t get her legs to work properly either.

“I can’t get to you!” he screamed, moving even closer, and the figure laughed, running farther away.

The man was crying now, begging the figure not to go, falling to his knees. The surroundings turned into jungle instead, though still just as hazy and dark. Emma felt an oppressive heat, and her chest tightened. The man stumbled to his feet, and he looked unseeing straight at Emma. She was struck by his eyes: not only how blue they were, but by the deep sadness glistening in them. He lifted both hands to his face as sobs wracked his body. Suddenly, his left hand was gone and blood streamed from the stump that remained. Emma stumbled back, the scene grotesque as the man screamed in agony.

Figures flooded in from all sides, crowding in around the man. One looked familiar, like a figure Emma had seen somewhere before.

“What’s the matter, Captain?” the figure said. It came into focus, and Emma realized it was just a boy. “I so wanted us to play. Does your hand hurt?”

The man stood, and at the end of his left hand was a hook -

Emma jerked awake, breathing hard. She lifted a shaking hand to her damp brow. Neal sat up next to her, groaning, and as she replayed the dream in her head, she started to laugh, almost hysterically.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Neal grumbled.

“Know how I joked about us settling down in Neverland?” she laughed. “Well, I just dreamed about Captain Hook and Peter Pan.”

“What?”

Emma shook her head incredulously at the angry tone of Neal’s voice and the slack-jawed expression on his face.

“Yeah, I dreamed about a pirate with a hook and a kid who looked just like Peter Pan in the movies.” Emma drew her knees up, uncomfortable in the cramped backseat of the Bug. They hadn’t been able to find anywhere else to crash for the night.

“That’s weird,” Neal commented in a strained voice.

“You’re the one being weird,” Emma laughed. “It was just a dream.”

Neal shook his head and gave her a forced smile. “Yeah, I know.”

Emma reached up and absentmindedly fiddled with the dreamcatcher she had hung in the back window. “Captain Hook was different though,” she murmured, “he was . . . handsome. With really blue eyes that had a . . . profound melancholy.”

“What did you say?” Neal bit out.

Emma jerked away from the dreamcatcher, brow furrowed at her boyfriend’s angry tone. “His eyes were the blue of the forget-me-not with a profound melancholy. Like in the book Peter Pan?”

“Like you read much,” Neal snorted.

“I read it a lot has a kid,” she shot back, “it was one of my favorites.”

Neal shrugged. “Whatever, Ems.”

“What the hell is your problem!”

“You wake up and go on and on about some hot guy in your dream. How am I supposed to feel?

Emma rolled her eyes “Are you serious?”

“Yeah, I am,” he snapped, yanking open the door and getting out.

“Neal,” she called after him, “don’t be an idiot! It was a dream! God, I’m sorry, okay?”

“Whatever. I need air.” He reached in to grab his coat, and pointed angrily at the dreamcatcher. “And get rid of that stupid thing!”

****************************************************************

When Emma opened her eyes, the ground swayed beneath her. Above her was a dark sky twinkling with stars and a white sail flapping in the wind. She scrambled to her feet and saw that she was on a ship, an old sailing ship, like in a pirate movie. She turned when the floorboards squeaked, and she saw the same man as before, the pirate with the hook, coming up from below deck.

“Hello?” he called, looking around with a worried expression. “Where is everyone?”

Emma held her breath, wondering if this time he would see her, but again he looked right through her. He called out several names as he strode across the deck – the names of his crew perhaps?

“You’re alone, little brother,” a voice called out, “you’d better get to the wheel.”

“Yes, Liam, you’re right,” the dark-haired pirate murmured in response, “you always are.”

He moved in an almost dreamlike state to the upperdeck and took his place behind the wheel. Emma followed him, the ship swaying more beneath her feet. She stumbled just as she reached the wheel, almost falling against it. The pirate struggled with the wheel as thunder rumbled and lightning flashed overhead. An eerie song floated through the air as the ship crashed into the rocks.

“Bloody mermaids,” the pirate grumbled.

Emma was sent sprawling across the deck. Every time she struggled to her feet, she was knocked over once again. This dream felt so much more real than the last one. The ship pitched and rolled as rain poured from the heavens. Emma screamed when she looked up to see a giant wave poised over the ship. The pirate turned his gaze upon her, and their eyes met. Did he see her?

“Lass!” he shouted, reaching a hand out for her, but before Emma could crawl towards him and take it, the wave crashed into the ship -

Emma gasped upon waking this time, almost as if she had just been clutched from a watery grave. Her sheets and her hair were drenched with sweat, and her heart hammered in her chest.

“Emma?” Neal asked her, worry in his voice. “You’re trembling and sweating. Are you sick?”

Emma shook her head, “No, I’m fine. It was just a dream.”

And it felt so real . . .

It was pitch black, but when Emma took a step, she realized there was water all over the floor. It sloshed over her bare feet, yet it was too shallow to reach her ankles. As her eyes adjusted to her surroundings, she gasped. The water was viscous and black, clinging to her skin.

“Hello?” she called, her voice echoing in the emptiness.

She heard someone crying and tried to move towards the sound, though it was hard to get a sense of direction in this place. The crying grew louder, and she knew it was a child. Finally, there, just ahead, a figure curled in on itself. Light from an unknown source surrounded whoever it was. The closer she got, the more sure Emma was. It was a child. A little boy.

“Are you okay?” she asked, crouching down to better see the little boy’s face. His eyes were bright blue and freckles dotted his cheeks.

“He’s gone away,” he sniffled. “They’ve all gone away.”

“Who?”

“Everyone.”

The way the child said that word – everyone – caused terror to fill Emma’s heart. Suddenly, in the boy’s face, she could imagine her own.

“What are you doing here?”

Emma spun around at the sound of the adult voice behind her. She stumbled backwards to see the pirate from her other two dreams standing before her.

“I . . . I . . . “

“You shouldn’t be here,” he spat.

“Who are you?” Emma asked.

The man narrowed his eyes. “Why do I keep dreaming about you?”

“Why do I keep dreaming about you?”

“You have to get her out of her!” the little boy interrupted their senseless argument. “You know what happens next.”

The boy stood, revealing his scrawny frame clad in a long nightshirt from a long-ago era. What was it about little kids in creepy situations that made things ten times more terrifying?

“What’s he talking about?” Emma asked the pirate.

The dark-haired man rolled his eyes and grabbed her hand. Emma snatched it away.

“I’m not going anywhere with you!”

“Fine,” he snapped, “let it take you then.”

“Let what take me?”

“The darkness,” the little boy said in a flat voice, “it always gets us.”

“Quit talking like we’re two people,” the pirate snapped.

Emma looked long at the little boy’s face, then the pirates: the same dark hair, the same blue eyes, the same tiny scar on one cheek.

“He’s you and you’re him!”

“Bloody brilliant of you, lass,” the pirate snapped.

“I think she’s smart,” the little boy said, “and pretty.”

“How would you know?” The pirate ran his hand through his dark hair, causing it to stick up in all directions. “Great, now I’m talking to myself. This isn’t usually how this nightmare goes.”

Emma narrowed her eyes. “You’ve had this dream before?” She shook her own head, grasping her temple in both hands. “What am I saying, I’m dreaming this!” She was getting a headache. Could you even get a headache in your sleep?

The little boy took her hand. “I’ll get her out if you won’t.”

The room shook, and the pirate swore under his breath. “Bloody hell.”

Emma cried out as the strange, thick black water began to bubble and lap at her ankles. “What the -”

“Give me your hand, love.” He rolled his eyes when she once again hesitated, then added, “The name’s Killian Jones, okay? Captain Jones.”

“Captain Hook?” Emma asked incredulously, glancing down at his hook. Oh shit, she probably shouldn’t have pissed him off.

“Ah, so you’ve heard of me!” he exclaimed with a cocky grin.

“You could say that . . . “

This was by far the weirdest dream she’d ever had.

The room shook again, and Emma yelped as she felt herself sink. Without hesitation, she took Killian’s hand. Or his adult hand anyway, her other still clasped in the little boy’s. Who was also Kilian, apparently. God this was bizarre.

The three of them began running as best they could through the sticky substance at their feet. Since this . . . darkness always got them, according to the little boy, how where they supposed to get away?

“You have light in you,” the little boy said as if he’d read her mind, “so you can get out.”

As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Emma saw the outline of a door ahead. Light spilled out of the cracks around it, getting stronger and brighter the closer they got. Yet the closer they got to the door, the more the black tar at their feet battled to pull them down. It seemed to have tentacles now, reaching up to grasp at their legs, their arms. The little boy screamed and almost got pulled under, so Emma stopped and scooped him up in her arms. The door was only about three feet away and was swinging open, they could make it . . .

Emma glanced back and screamed to see a large, gaping mouth form out of the darkness. It was like a large, sticky crocodile jaw, and it was bearing down on them. The adult Killian shoved her and the boy towards the door, and the tar like jaws closed over his waist.

Emma’s hip hit firm ground, one arm still wrapped around the little boy. Her hand still held fast to Killian’s, but he was being pulled under by the darkness.

“No!” Emma screamed as she tried to hold on. Something in Killian’s bright blue eyes compelled her to fight to save him.

“I’ll never forget you, lass,” he said before his hand slipped out of hers and he was pulled into the inky black.

“Killian!”

“Killian!” Emma screamed, her arms flailing, searching. “Killian!”

“Emma!” a hand was on her shoulder.

“Killian?” she asked, her eyes flying open, but hovering over her was Neal. And he looked angry.

“Where did you hear that name?” he demanded.

Emma was gasping for air, trying to process the dream she had just had. It was the strangest of all she’d had since she got the dreamcatcher, but it has also seemed the most real. The dreamcatcher! Emma sat up quickly, her head almost hitting the top of the broken-down conversion van they had found in the scrap yard to make into a temporary home. She grabbed the dreamcatcher from the window where she’d hung it before going to bed.

‘The pirate’s name is Killian,” she whispered, staring in amazement at the dreamcatcher.

Before she even knew what was happening, Neal had snatched the dreamcatcher out of her hands. With a shout of rage, he snapped the frame in half. Emma shouted for him to stop, but he wouldn’t listen. He kept attacking the dreamcatcher with his bare hands, wood snapping and thread breaking. Then he tore the feathers to shreds and crushed the beads beneath his heels. For reasons she couldn’t quite put into words, Emma sobbed as he completely destroyed.

“I’m sorry, Emma,” he gasped, his emotions spent, “nothing’s been right since you got that damn thing, and I . . . “

He trailed off, then opened the van door and stomped out. Emma lay back down, curling in on herself. She couldn’t get that last look in Killian’s eyes out of her mind. She didn’t understand any of it: why the dreamcatcher had coincided with the bizarre dreams, why the man seemed so real, or why Neal had gotten so angry. All she knew was that without the dreamcatcher, she felt bereft, like a part of her had been ripped away.

******************************************************************

Emma didn’t dream of him again. Neal kept asking her. He knew she was telling him the truth. For one, Emma was a surprisingly horrible liar. Second, she hadn’t once awoken crying out or sweating since he broke the dreamcatcher.

Yet his Emma simply hadn’t been the same since. Worry seemed to always wrinkle her brow, and she was often distant, like she was gazing off into a dreamworld that he couldn’t see. He cursed that damn dreamcatcher! His old warning bells had gone off when he’d seen it: the same ones that had plagued him when Wendy Darling had mentioned the shadow at her window. He should have gotten rid of it earlier; he knew what magic really was. But fear of having to tell Emma the truth about his past had made him hesitate. How could he have expressed the danger of a magical object without sounding like a lunatic? And now magic had cost him yet another girl that he loved, just like Wendy.

Just like his mother before her.

Killian? A handsome pirate with a hook named Killian? Neal’s hand clasping Emma’s tightened. Could it really be the same guy? He was still working for Pan when Neal left Neverland, so it was entirely possible he supposed. But through Emma’s dreams? And why Emma? It wasn’t even like Hook had magic himself. What game was he playing? Was this still about killing Neal’s father?

“Ow!” Emma exclaimed, yanking her hand away and rubbing it. “Afraid I’ll run away?”

Her words startled him, hitting way too close to home, but the grin on her face made him relax. Emma adored him, she would never take off like his mother did. And yes, he knew all along Hook was right. His mother had left him. Left his father, yes, but it was the same thing. She chose adventure and romance over her own son, and it left a gaping hole in his heart that nothing could ever fill.

“Sorry,” he sighed, pulling Emma close. He didn’t know what to say, so he just held her.

“Hey,” she said, pulling back to look into his face, “this isn’t still about those weird dreams, is it? Because they weren’t, like, sex dreams or anything.” She bit her lip and blushed in that cute way she had.

“Cause you only have those about me, right?”

She giggled, pressing her face against the crook of his neck. She was so innocent; it was one of the things he adored about her. He held her tighter.

“And now you’re choking me,” she joked, exaggerating a breathless voice.

He laughed at the sparkle that was back in her eyes, but then he saw something over her shoulder, and his chuckle drifted off. Emma shook him gently.

“What’s up?”

Neal shook his head to clear it. “Um, nothing, just . . . “ he reached into his pocket and pulled out the little cash they had left. They’d need to lift some more cash soon, maybe hit the park where mothers wouldn’t be watching their purses. He pressed the money into Emma’s hand. “Go over to that diner and get us some burgers.”

“Really?” Emma squealed, throwing her arms around his neck. “And onion rings?’

“Mhm, get us a booth. I’ll be right there. I just have to take care of one quick thing.”

He flashed her a smile so she wouldn’t worry, and she kissed him briefly before heading across the street. Once she was safely inside the diner, Neal turned and went inside the store that had distracted him a moment ago. Stepping inside made his chest tighten with anxiety: it was filled floor to ceiling with magic. The painted window proclaimed: Moana’s Curio Shop. A woman with tanned skin and long black hair stepped out of the back store room. She wore a flowery, one-shouldered, sundress, and another large flower was clipped in her hair. She didn’t look like the sort of person who possessed magic or ran a shop like this, but Neal knew from experience that looks can be deceiving. Pan and his Lost Boys were the greatest example of that.

“May I help you?” she young woman asked, tilting her head as she appraised him. Whatever she saw, it made a slow smile spread across her face. She marched closer, propping her hands on her hips in a scrutinizing fashion. “Never mind pretense, you are just like me, aren’t you?”

Neal shuffled nervously. “I have no idea what you mean.”

“Mhm,” she replied with a knowing grin, “stick to that story if you want.”

“I am looking for a particular item.”

“Oh really?” she asked casually as she re-organized a shelf of incense.

“My girlfriend had a dreamcatcher . . . “ he trailed off, grasping a handful of hair in frustration. How did he even begin to explain?

“And you don’t like where it’s taking her?”

“Well, I solved that problem. I broke the dreamcatcher.”

The woman shook her head and clucked her tongue. “It may have closed the opening to the dream world, but she’s still connected to the person who’s dreams she infiltrated.”

Neal’s eyes widened. “Um, what?”

She arched a brow at him. ”Don’t play dumb. You already expected as much.”

She didn’t even wait for an answer. She went to the front of the store where a display of dreamcatchers hung from the ceiling. As she placed it into his eager hands, Neal felt relief wash over him. He’d have Emma back.

************************************************************

Emma arched a brow and laughed at Neal’s eager expression, the dreamcatcher he had bought her dangling from his fingers.

“Sorry?” he asked hesitantly.

Emma threw her arms around him and kissed his cheek. He’d been so weird about the dreamcatcher and even weirder about her dreams, but this showed just how badly he felt about all of it. It was kind of cute, actually, how jealous he got of a dream guy who wasn’t even real. He watched her intently as she grasped the new dreamcatcher in her hands. The room spun and the colors of the dreamcatcher seemed to meld together.

Emma stumbled, then shook her head. She smiled at Neal and kissed his cheek.

“Aw, you remembered how I liked the granola family’s dreamcatcher! Thank you!”

“You um,” he licked his lips nervously, “never had one before, right?”

“No,” Emma said, shaking her head and smiling as she watched it spin, “I never have.”

[amazingmsme]

Why Jesse Tuck Hates The Ocean

Miles and Jesse had pledged to spend more time together. Family was the only consistency in their eternal life, and every few years they decided to plan a vacation together. They've visited the African safari, climbed Mount Everest, kayaked down the Amazon, and seen countless other sights. Miles remembered how much his brother had loved the ocean. He used to talk about it constantly, rambling about the countless creatures that lurked in the waters that would remain unknown. He used to say that he would go down in a submarine one day to see what it was like, and if he couldn't find one, he would swim to the bottom of the sea himself. As the years went by, he talked about it less. Miles assumed he'd just forgotten about his dream with time. After all, they've been alive for over 200 years and they didn't always remember certain things. So he decided that he'd do something nice for his brother, and asked if he wanted to go to Australia with him, where they could go surfing, relax on the beach, and even get in a shark cage next to some of the world's largest great whites. Jesse used to say how he always wanted to do that, but in recent years, it was as if his brother had completely forgotten that the ocean even existed. But when he asked if he wanted to go, his brother had a panic attack. It took 20 minutes to get him to calm down. He didn't know if he wanted to talk about or leave it be, and he decided to leave that up to Jesse.

"I hate the ocean," those were the only words he could choke out between sobs. And just like that, all the reasons came flooding back to him.

Reason 1: 1912 He had bought a ticket for the maiden voyage of the biggest ship to date. History was being made before his eyes, and he was gonna be a part of it! History was made alright, and after days of gambling and fun, it all came to an end. He felt the boat strike something large and heard a terrible metal scraping. Everyone else dismissed it for the most part, but he could tell something wasn't right. Hours past and suddenly they were sinking. Chaos on deck as people rushed to the lifeboats that there were too few of. Women and children first. Jesse knew he couldn't get on one, it would be too selfish of him. He would survive no matter what. Someone else needed that seat.

He jumped early on. The boat was just beginning to capsize when he plunged himself into the icy waters. His body froze instantly when he hit the water. Just because he was immortal doesn't mean he can't feel, and even though he couldn't really feel pain, it was the most excruciating thing he had ever felt. It was the closest thing to physical pain he could feel. He almost missed it. He sunk for a good bit before coming to his senses. His eyes shot open and all around him he only saw black. He  tilted his head back and saw the boat lights above the water, illuminating the lifeboats and bodies floating. Suddenly, half of the ship broke off and sank quickly past him, startling him as the metal brushed past. He had ran out of air a long time ago, and even though he couldn't die, it was a frightening feeling. His lungs yearned for air, and when he opened his mouth, water rushed inside, filling his body and making him weak from the cold. He tried to cough but found he couldn't, the taste of salt overwhelming him. He was 25 meters below the surface but found he couldn't swim anymore. He needed to rest. It wouldn't hurt to rest, right? He felt his eyelids flutter as the urge to sleep and give up grew more and more.

He shook his head, forcing himself to stay awake. He forced his numb limbs to move through the water until finally, he broke through the surface. The air was sharp against his cold skin as screams and cries rang out in the night, calling for help that didn't come. He looked up at the dark moonless sky dotted with stars and closed his eyes, silently praying for mercy. He forgot which way land was, so he picked a random direction and started swimming.

89 days. That's how long it took to swim back to shore. 89 days of swimming constantly until he couldn't feel his arms and legs, letting himself drift with the waves, staring blearily up at the sun. He was so cold, he forgot what warmth felt like; he was so wet, he forgot what being dry felt like. And even though he didn't necessarily need food to survive, his stomach rumbled so loud, he was shocked it didn't attract sharks or other creatures. He saw a pod of blue whales swim past, breaching close by. It was a beautiful sight, the only good thing to happen to him since he started his swim. He hoped it was a sign of good luck, and that good things were coming his way.

He cried when he saw land on the horizon. He arrived off the coast of Delaware, surprisingly close to his home in New Jersey. His money was soaked, but he had enough to pay a cab driver to drive back to his house where he finally got to rest. He drank two whole gallons of water, and ate all the food in his pantry before sleeping for three weeks straight.

Reason 2: 1945 Jesse had been drafted in the second World War. It wasn't his first one, but after the Great War, he hadn't been too eager to get back to fighting. He was on a secret mission on the USS Indianapolis to deliver the atomic bombs that were said to bring an end to the war. After a successful arrival, they were all ready to celebrate. Then things took a turn for the worst. Two torpedoes struck the ship, and they started sinking. This was so much faster than the Titanic. The boat was sunk in 12 minutes.

Jesse and his comrades clung onto ship wreckage, donned in life jackets. He looked at the men around him, noting that a large chunk of the crew didn't make it out. He yelled out asking for names, hearing the voices of his friends and relaxing a bit. Until he felt something brush against his leg. And someone else did too. And someone else. And then there was the first attack.

By the light of the almost full moon, Jesse watched in horror as his brothers in arms got picked off one by one by ravenous sharks. Blood in the water swirled around them, drawing in more hungry predators. Pain filled screams filled the air as the men were ripped apart and drowned, and the heart wrenching sobs of those who were forced to watch their friends die before their eyes. There was nothing Jesse could do but watch.

"Quint! Over here!" Jesse called out to his friend, pulling him onto his piece of driftwood for safety. The pale moonlight illuminated the scene, and saltwater and tears drenched their faces. And then Jesse felt himself be pulled down. Quint reached out to grab his hand and Jesse tried to cling on, but their grip was no match for a shark's jaws.

It's a strange thing, not dying: being able to feel, but not feel pain. He could feel the teeth sunk into his thigh, ripping and dragging him down only, it didn't hurt. He felt the pressure of each tooth that pierced his skin and tore away the flesh. Jesse tried to get away in a panic, but another shark bit through his arm. Another grew in it's place. He stared at the new appendage before getting struck from behind by the original shark, taking a bite from his side, only for more flesh to grow and replace it. Jesse looked up, staring into the blank and empty eyes of the shark, it's mouth opening wide, showing him all it's teeth, chunks of flesh stuck between. Jesse screamed, the last of his air long gone and swallowing mouthfuls of sea water. His lungs would ache if they could. He reached back as far as his arm could reach, and with all his might thrust his fist towards the shark, punching it on the nose. It swam off, leaving him alone and allowing him to return to the surface. Everyone screamed, not knowing what to expect.

He coughed and sputtered, "It's okay, I'm okay." By the time they were rescued, only 317 members of the 1,196 person crew remained. And out of all the people who went under the water, only Jesse made it back to the surface.

Reason 3: 1985 By this point in time, Jesse had a rough relationship with the ocean. He still loved splashing along by the shore, but refused to get in water deeper than he could touch. He was swimming along a crowded beach in Florida, trying his best to calm his swarming mind. And then he felt something brush against his leg and he froze. Memories came flooding back as teeth dug into his leg, spilling blood into the water for all to see. His skin and flesh instantly healed and the hammerhead swam off after the exploratory bite, but the damage was done. Mothers were gathering their children from the water and lifeguards were already coming to his rescue as the entire beach watched on. Everyone was expecting him to be injured, to have a piece of him missing, to have meat hanging on by the skin. They were all preparing themselves for something awful. Only he didn't have a single scratch on him. Not a single solitary flaw on his smooth perfect skin. His blood was still lingering in the surf, proof of what had happened. He was panicking, thinking of excuses he could use for why he wasn't injured.

He ended up telling the lifeguard that the shark got a fish that happened to be near his leg. He still looked concerned and skeptical, but after looking him over, believed his story. But after that day, it had been proven to Jesse that the ocean was not a safe place for him. It brought nothing but bad luck and traumatizing memories, and he refused to step foot in it. It served as a reminder that no matter what he goes through, there truly is no way out.

Miles didn't know this. He made a point not to tell his family any of this. But he decided now, maybe it was time to share his burden. His brother listened, not uttering a sound, instead listening to Jesse's words spoken through sobs, all the while holding him in a tight embrace. When he was finished, all Jesse could say was, "I used to love the ocean..."

[pinche-vida]

Stars in Your Eyes, Death at Your Throat [part 7]

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It took all of Lance’s willpower to stand upright. The sentries grabbed him from his cell a few vargas ago, threw a cloak on him and kept shoving him into motion. From the halls of the ship, to a cramped cargo transport, to a bustling city. He’s brought past a busy vendor market with dozens of people roaming from stall to stall. His head is shoved down every time he tries to look at his surroundings, but he still tries to lift it up and pay attention to their surrounding.

Wait.

He wiggles a bit to turn around, stretching his neck as much as possible and like a finely tuned machine, the sentries grab his shoulders and twist him forward.

A sigh passes his lips. With another push, he's back to trudging behind a sentry. Maybe he's going delirious, but that citizen kind of looked like Keith.

Logistically speaking, that would be terrible.

But he still wishes he could see him one more time.

The guards stop suddenly and take his cloak off. A shiver travels through his body. He’s behind the stage of some large platform in the town’s plaza.There are several Galra crew members working on sound and camera shots that are noticeably watching him. It almost feels like being backstage of his junior high theater, which makes him feel a little bit better about the ever-present fluttering nerves.

Haggar’s voice is echoing throughout the curtains he’s positioned in front of. Lance can hear her hype the crowd up and introduce him as the ‘Prince of Altea’ as if he hasn’t spent the past deca-phoeb as a Paladin. The chains around his arms are yanked forward by the sentry in front of him, and he’s able to see just how grand a spectacle they’re trying to make of him. There’s easily maybe 2,500 in the public space. All the purple faces in the crowd were clapping and stomping their feet at the sight of him.

It was terrifying.

He’s pulled past Haggar, who curled her lip at him in disgust, and is brought downstage - front and center for the masses.

His legs were trembling fiercely, he’s too stunned by the scene to move. Camera drones were zooming past him and recalculating their lens on him.

One of the sentries cuffs the side of his head when he doesn’t respond to them ordering him on his knees. Lance cries out and sharp pain explodes from the hit. He can feel both blood trickling down his face and the feeling of his hair changing back to silver.

His heart, already working so fast (the poor thing) is drumming so fast all he can hear is the thumping rhythm of babump-babump-babump, but he needs to get back on track.

Voltron must be watching, he's sure of it.

Haggar announces his execution, claiming this to be a sure step closer to eradicating the threat of the Altean Witch's clutch over Voltron.

Keith feels his blood go cold.

“I'm gonna puke,” Hunk groans out. He fumbles for a bag and begins to breathe in it.

“We have to go down there, we have to stop this,” Pidge demands. She looks at Shiro desperately, like he held a secret plan that he was waiting for the right moment to reveal it.

“We can't,” Shiro began, gritting his teeth. “It's a Central Command planet, if we tried, we'd just be decimated by the hundreds of fleets nearby. We have to trust in the Blade.” He stood beside Allura, hands on her shoulder for support.

In the distance, roaring and whining travel throughout the halls of the Castle.

They seem to snap Allura’s trance on the screen. She turns to Shiro, panicked and shouts, “I can't let him die again. We have to go!” He tries to calm her down and restrain her, but she easily flips him on his back and runs out of the room and into the Lion's hanger.

She sees that though Red is screaming his head off, he has not moved from his standing position. Blue, on the other hand, has fallen to the ground, limp and uncaring of how she's splayed on the ground. Low, pitiful, whimpering is rumbling from her.

Allura climbs into Blue's mouth and runs to the pilot seat. Full of reckless determination, she surges the controls forward, ready for whatever the Galra can try to throw her way.

Nothing happens.

Allura is baffled. She stares at the controls waiting for them to come to life.

They don't.

Allura surges the controls forward again, and again. She curls in on herself and screams.

“Why aren't you helping?” She cries out. “He's your paladin! Your true paladin, we need to save him. I need to save him!”

Blue lets out another sad moan, rumbling her seat. Allura hears Red roaring still outside. It doesn't make any sense. They both feel so frustrated, so resigned. They want to help, so why aren't they? Red did for Keith, why aren't they doing the same for him?

A video link pops up on her screen, the work of Pidge no doubt. It's the feed. Lance is looking around feverishly, a sentry guard pushes him forward and he growls as he stumbles forward. He's brought to the middle of the platform and forced to his knees with a hit to his temple. His hair changes to the beautiful shade of silver Allura thought she’d only be able to see again in her dreams. He looks out to the crowd and up at the cameras. Realization flickers across his disoriented face and he becomes sickly pale.

Allura has never felt so utterly useless. Princess to a people no more, leader to the last shred of hope in the universe who couldn't stop her paladin from being abducted from the palm of her hands, and a big sister who could do nothing but watch as her baby brother was captured and paraded by the same monsters that destroyed their planet.

She hears movement from behind her and sees Shiro at the cockpit door. He seems unsure of what to say, but in the end, says nothing but walks up to her seat and leans down to wraps Allura in his arms.

Keith's eyes darted across the rooftops and no longer sees any movement. His heart is racing seeing Lance petrified on the platform.

Haggar is giving some spiel about Lotor's 'brave task’. Lotor is standing beside her, his eyes scanning the area.

Their eyes meet.

Lotor looks like he understands something Keith doesn't, because he smirks once he sees him and continues to scan the area.

Keith wants to kill Lotor for taking Lance, for hurting Lance. His hands clench into fists. The agents by his side (he can't help but think of them as babysitting) pulse their grip on him to remind him to follow orders. He grits his teeth as he sees Lance’s eyes furiously darting around the plaza. He's looking for them, no doubt, for the Blade - for Keith.

Haggar brings out a tall Galran wield a broadsword.

When Lance sees it, an odd sense of understanding finally breaks through.

Voltron isn’t coming, the Blade isn’t coming, there’s no secret group of town rebels that are going to break him free.

This is it.

When he thinks about all the torture, pain and fear he’s gone through, he thinks about his team. Coran, and Allura. Shiro, Hunk, Pidge. Keith. In a way, he’s glad things worked out the way they did, because he’s so relieved none of them went through this (in Shiro’s case, went through this a third time.)

She asks Lance if he has any last words. The mic source is switched. A smaller drone appeared before Lance waiting for his words. The crowd begins to boo, but it’s quickly shut down from a single hand raise from Lotor.

He gulps and closes his eyes with a deep inhale, and opens them with a slow exhale.

“I, um.” He laughs, shallow and nervously. “Pidge,” he calls out.

Pidge covers her mouth, tears threatening to fall.

“You're the smartest, person I know, I'm glad to have you as a lil' sis, I know you'll find Matt and your dad soon.” The tears start to fall and she crumples to the ground.

Hunk kneels down to comfort her and snaps head up when he hears his name. “My man, who needs a soulmate when you've got a soulbrother? Don't stop cooking your awesome food, don't stop giving out your awesome hugs, and if you see my family before I do, tell them I love them, I love you man!” Hunk’s curled his arms around Pidge and they're both sobbing profusely.

“Coran, and Shiro, thanks for managing our ragtag team. I know I haven't always been the greatest paladin,” Coran gasps at the screen.

“No, my dear boy, you are the greatest paladin I have had the pleasure of meeting.”

“But I'm glad I was able to help where I could. You guys got this. Allura, I wish we could’ve talked about this.” He gestures to his body. “I can’t even imagine what’s going through your mind, but it’s not your fault. Keep fighting the good fight.”

Her face is twisted with grief and anger, although her gritted teeth stop her from wailing, tears are streaming from her squinting eyes.

Lance scans the crowd once more and in the sea of Galra, finally finds Keith and the two agents restraining him. He can’t stop the small smile that blossoms on his face. Keith stills, realizing Lance can see him. His gut wrenches, wondering what could be going through Lance's head seeing Keith there not doing anything, especially given the last time they spoke.

Lance looks so sad, but is smiling nonetheless. “They can kill me, but I won't die. I can't die as long as hope is alive.” He takes a deep breath, eye locked onto Keith’s. “Keith,” He looks like he wants to say so much. Haggar signals the executioner, tired of the paladin’s rant. Keith feels his mouth open, and frustrated, angry, scared tears fall. What was the Blade doing? Why haven't they leaped to the stage and saved him? Why wouldn't they let Keith leap to the stage to save him?

“Keith, I love you.”

A choked out moan leaves his mouth. Keith's never felt anything like this before. He feels both the happiest and most heartbroken he can ever remember being. His heart feels like it's soaring, flying straight to the sun. His insides feel so shriveled and there is a fire burning inside him.

The executioner approached the kneeling Lance.

Keith's getting on that stage if it kills him.

He jumps up in place and swoops each leg around one of the legs of the agents. He brings all three of them down and gets up just as quick. He rips the thin mask covering his mouth off and pushes forward, shoving anyone from the crowd in his way. Lance is still looking at him, hasn't taken his eyes off of him and Keith refuses to break that contact.

The executioner raises their broadsword.

“Lance! Lance!” Keith screams over and over again. Just a little more time, he's almost there. Lance slowly closes his eyes.

The executioner swings down, cutting through Lance's neck with ease. The crowd goes into a wild roar, yelling and cheering louder than before.

Keith feels like a knife has plunged itself into his chest. He screams louder than he's ever screamed before.

Sobs wrack Allura's body, and Shiro holds on to her as if she were a lifeline, turning to shield her from the screen.

Pidge burrows herself into Hunk's arms. Coran Is still locked onto the screen. The sound of metal cutting through Lance's flesh is sickeningly wet and when his body to slump, Coran sinks down to his knees, arms still fiercely gripping the rails. His head lobs forward and looks at the ground. His chest feels so hollow. He covers his mouth and wails so freely that his nose begins to leak. Slav, who has kept himself apart from as much activity as he could, is to the wall and refuses to blink, keeping his eyes glued to the screen, scanning, searching for something.

As Lance's body falls on the platform floor, explosions rip throughout the open space. Cheers turn to terrified shouting as the crowd begins to run in different directions. Keith is flung back from the explosion and everything hurts. It hurts so much, he begins feels numb. Shock, some part of his mind suggests. He props himself on his elbows and sees the agents he knocked down earlier running to the platform site.

Lance, Keith thinks, getting to his feet. He stumbles toward the platform, still covered in dust and smoke. Four Marmorans jump out of the smoke, with sentries following close behind, one Marmoran is tackled by a guard and turns to fight him off. The largest Marmoran grabs Keith by his waist and flings him over their shoulder.

Keith's vision swims from the frenzy. “No,” he croaks out. “Stop, we have to go back.” He tries in vain to crawl off of the agent's shoulder. They are running in full sprint to reach their extraction zone. Keith watches with blurry, tear stained eyes as the platform and the chaos surrounding it becomes farther and farther to the point of bleeding into the horizon. His face scrunches as new tears fall and he continues to shout Lance's name.

[srbachchan]

DAY 3546

PuriPai, Thailand              Dec 9,  2017              Sat 9:30 pm local time 

Birthday - EF Ankur R Churiwal    ...   Sonia Ef    Sunday, Dec 10, 2017 .. and our wishes for this birthday of theirs and our greetings to them for a wonderful and blessed year .. love from us all .. the Ef ..

The forests and the wild invite us again .. the winding roads, misty and fogged .. the rising sun desperately trying to sneak its rays about the horizon, in vain .. the make up routine .. the deliberations of a very dedicated team of locals and locals from across the sea, or rather the Bay .. a sincere host country .. the absence of any kind of crowd disturbance .. and the luxury of continued repetitions of a shot till there is absolute conformity and agreement to the creative and authenticity of the scene .. 

Digital Camera .. that wonder in today’s times allows us this liberty .. there is now no film .. as in celluloid film, like in the past, and I often wonder why we are still called the film Industry .. a chip runs endlessly inside the digital camera, specially designed and that is the norm .. no wastage of celluloid film, a most expensive and rare ingredient in the films made in my times .. all gone .. KODAK has shut down .. and that tension of expending excessive film for a production is now all the past and irrelevant ..

As artists in those times, worried whether the shot has come out right or not, we would ask and request for another ‘take’ .. and the reprimand from the director, mostly Hrishi Da, used to be .. “ you pay for it “ and we would resign ourselves to the instincts of the master the captain of the ship, the director .. !

Now of course there are multiple monitors and gadgetry which enable us to see each and every frame in high speed to check faults .. and be allowed multiple retakes, to improve ..

Directors of our times stood by the camera while the shot was on, to start and cut the shot, to observe the artist as he or she performed .. now they all sit behind a monitor, distant from where the scene is being done, watching the artist not live, but through the projection they get on the screen of the monitor .. and better still .. thanks to the various proficient Apps., available, each scene is edited on location, within minutes and can be seen in its rough entirety to gauge its value, almost immediately ..

As opposed to those early days, when the reel containing the footage of film would be taken off the camera, put inside black clothed enclosures for fear of exposure to sun and thereby ruining the content, packed inside tin boxes specially designed in circular fashion, for that was how they were loaded on to the camera for shooting and play .. sent off to the Laboratory for processing, generally involving days, delivered to special editing rooms of the editor of the film, cut through a long arduous process - where each frame of celluloid was run on an editing machine, a Moviola and then later on a modernised version brand named Steinbeck .. intricate decision making by the editor without any technical help or assistance, sending it off to be seen in a regular mini theatre through projector, to be able to see .. to see the scene shot .. taking months at times ..

NOW ..

All that process wiped out in time, by computerisation .. much like the prediction in times to come, of the computer wiping out civilisation .. that is if we survive the other more recent and alarming discovery of the largest Black Hole in the galaxy .. 800 million times the mass of the Sun .. !!

The Hole having the ability to suck in and devour the entire hemisphere and our world about us .. fortunately we are safe for now, .. ‘for NOW’ .. as the scientist analysing its effect confided to anxious enquiries .. since .. that phenomena, was still some billions of light years away from us mere mortals .. !!

“OK everyone breathe normally”  .. ! As the voice inside that MRI tube comes, from the medical team, drafting and compiling the imagery of the insides of your body ..

‘None of us shall be around when that happens .. !!’

Stars, the galaxy, the astronomical adventures and discoveries each coming year, bringing us closer to the very existence of us all .. the hemisphere, the world we live in, the planets and so much more ..  so so intriguing !

When elders pass away, the questions asked by the grandchildren of young age, on the sudden absence of their Dada or Nana .. the response from parents has always been, ‘they went away to become a star .. up in the sky, in the Heavens’ .. and the look of belief in the innocent eyes of the child are enough to seek another living for ourselves  .. 

Seems odd .. but as my Father aged, on one fine day, he asked me whether it would be possible to get him a powerful telescope in the house .. I readily agreed and got him one .. he would spend time trying to learn its functioning ; they are a little complicated in its operation, and spend a lot of time as night came about, to look into the skies ..

Looking into the skies .. ? 

Perhaps to seek a reserved destination for them, after their passing .. perhaps .. I never did ask my Father why ..?

And in time, when I shall be asked similar question, I too would not have reasonable answer ..

AND .. just an after thought ..

.. is it normal for the ones that age to wish to connect with those that time has kept away from us .. old school friends, relatives ignored till now and wanting to reconnect .. matters of the past ; incidents, locations, people ..

Is it .. ?

Amitabh Bachchan

[strawberriestyles]

Keep Yeh Warm

Alex X Reader: Angst & fluff

In which Alex becomes attached to the first beautiful thing he’s seen in weeks.

(I’m putting everything else under a cut in case anyone still hasn’t seen Dunkirk!! It may contain some spoilers.)

Request? Yes:

So I have an idea for Alex. So instead of getting rescued on that boat he would be rescued by a different boat and there's a girl on it and helps him and they talk and get to know each other and Alex is smitten with her and when they drop them off to go to the train he convinces her to go with him and yeah

Author’s note: Hi!! I actually really liked writing this, so if anyone has Alex requests, send them my way!! As usual, feedback is highly appreciated. Enjoy! Xx

"Abandon ship!"

Alex whips his head around to find himself alone with the French impostor. The water has found its way up to his chin and the boat is going under. There's no hope in saving it. He pulls his hands away from the wall of the boat and turns in the direction of the ladder, but pauses. The buzz of planes reaches his ears, just over the rush of water flooding the boat. His heart pounds in his chest as he thinks about just how much he wants to go home.

"Oi!" he shouts, grasping at the French soldier's arm. Alex jerks his head in the direction of the exit and then turns to suck in a deep breath before ducking under the water.

His lungs have already begun to burn by the time his fingers find a ladder rung. He pulls himself forward, against a rush of water. Each limb feels weighed down as he climbs to the boat's top deck. He bursts through the water's surface with a desperate gasp, yanking himself up onto the sinking deck.

It takes a moment for Alex's eyes to adjust to the sunlight after being submerged in darkness for the whole day. He blinks away the initial sting, sitting up to find a destroyer far off to his left and smaller crafts bobbing in the water around him. They're fishing vessels and small pleasure boats.

There's a familiar whistle and Alex drops his face forward to the deck, nearly choking as water siphons up his nose. He clasps his hands over the back of his head just as a loud explosion sounds from his left. Seconds tick by with nothing but distant shouts before he lifts his eyes, jerking his head around wildly.

The destroyer has been hit and clouds of black smoke billow from its side. He can see it tipping slowly, deliberately. Two planes twist overhead—one enemy and one friendly. Alex lowers his gaze to sea-level, gauging which boat is closest. Men swim for every vessel, and bodies bob lifelessly, but he tries not to think about them. The boat straight ahead seems promising.

Alex scrambles to his feet and then dives off the bow of his sinking boat. His arms ache as he swims forward, amongst a sea of desperate men. He's pushed underwater by a flopping soldier and bobs back to the surface, eyes heavy with some unknown material. He swipes at his face and his fingers come away black. Oil.

***

You collapse onto the deck of the boat with a strangled cry as an explosion seals the destroyer's fate. Men shout to each other, and you hear your father's voice above them.

"Y/N!"

You lift your head to see the ship unbalanced, dark smoke dancing up into the wind. Soldiers jump from the wreckage, splashing into the water and making for civilian vessels.

"Y/N, you help them in, you hear?"

You twist to find your father's eyes fixed on you in a stern gaze. You nod immediately, stumbling to your feet. He's been cross with you since he found you stowed away below deck. But he wasn't supposed to be on the boat, either. The NAVY was supposed to take it.

A hand smacks against the side of the boat and you lean over the gunwale, grasping slippery fingers. You grunt in frustration when you lose your grip and try again, instead clasping at the man's sleeve. You're not weak, but hauling a sopping wet soldier into the boat is nearly impossible for you. Another set of hands wrap around the man's opposite arm and you fall backwards as he's yanked into the boat.

"Shouldn't have come," Adam, your father's worker scolds you with a hard shake of his head. He reaches out into the water to pull another soldier onto the deck. "Get these men some blankets, Y/N."

You push yourself back to your feet, brushing past your disapproving father to get below deck. Stacks of packed blankets line the floor and you grasp a thick pile, ducking back upstairs. More men have been helped on board and line the perimeter of the boat.

"They need to start getting below deck," your father observes, disgruntled. "Need to pack as many on as we can."

You set down your stack of blankets, grabbing the top piece to wrap around the nearest soaked soldier. Your movements pause as you catch sight of his face, smudged with black liquid.

"Oil," you whisper, turning to your father. "There's oil."

He glances at you and then to the soldier in front of you. His lips purse in recognition and then he turns away without another word.

"Get below deck," you tell the stranger. Your fingers grasp at another blanket as you move onto the next man, wrapping him up and repeating your instructions.

The pattern continues for a few minutes before there are shots overhead. You stumble in surprise and glance up to find a smoking plane, shuddering in the air. Your eyes drop back down, where thick oil sits atop the water.

You scramble to the edge of the boat, helping Adam to haul more people aboard. The damaged plane hits the water just as you get a man over the gunwale. It bursts into flames, which spread across the water in a burst of heat. The soldier collapses atop you in a clumsy heap.

All you can hear are screams. You can feel the heat from the fire, dancing along the water, many feet from you. Your eyes squeeze closed, trying to block out the terror of the scene.

"Oi, love."

You open your eyes to find a pair of green ones staring back at you. Your fingers loosen around the front of the soldier's jacket, which you weren't aware you were clutching with whitening fingers. His own fingers loosen around your wrists as you blink away the tears that have collected along your waterline.

"Sorry," you mumble, pushing away from the stranger. He lets you slip out from under him and down below deck to retrieve another stack of blankets. The cabin is packed to capacity and you have to shove your way through the crowd.

Back upstairs, you continue wrapping soldiers up to keep their wet bodies protected from the chilly air. The green-eyed man receives the last blanket, and he watches you closely as you settle the material over him.

"Thank yeh, love," he says softly. His face is splotched with oil, hair slick atop his head. He wipes at his skin with the blanket as you nod politely at him. "Wha's your name?"

"Y/N," you introduce yourself. Your feet slip just a bit when the boat hits a hard swell, and the soldier's hand reaches out from where he sits to brace you at your leg.

"Yeh okay?"

You nod again and he retracts his hand, coaxing his blanket further around his shoulders.

"'M Alex," he informs you. He looks tired, exhausted even. You wonder about everything he's been through at Dunkirk, how much death he's seen. The rest of the boat seems almost silent. All of these men have seen death.

"It's very nice to meet you," you say, and you mean it. Any life that's survived is precious and meaningful.

"Y/N," your father calls. You twist your head around. "Get some water for the men."

You give Alex a soft smile before following your orders, collecting flasks of water from the cabin. You begin to pass them out below deck and then return outside.

"Should get some sleep," your father says softly. You're surprised at his tone. "Got a while until home."

You nod appreciatively before continuing to pass out water. The soldiers seem grateful, although they don't say so. You stop in front of Alex again, who's tucked himself into a hidden crook of the boat, handing him a diminishing bottle which he downs without stopping. He gasps for air as he pulls the flask away from his lips and hands it back to you.

The sky has begun to darken with the close of sunset and there's a long ride back home. Soldiers have begun to nod off against the walls of the boat, heavy with fatigue. You wrap your arms around your body as you glance around at the distant vessels bobbing in the water. You wonder how many men have been saved today.

"Yeh're shiverin'," Alex observes, pulling you from your thoughts as he loosens his blanket. "Take this."

"No, no," you deny with a swift shake of your head. You are cold, but the soldiers are wet, and it can only be worse for them. The least that he deserves is a warm blanket. "I'm okay."

"I insist," he urges.

"No," you refuse again, biting down on your lip to keep it from quivering with cold. "I'm not taking it from you."

Alex slumps back against the wall, looking slightly dejected. He looks out at the sea, moonlight glinting off the surface, and wonders just how something so beautiful could be the site of something so terrible.

"At least lemme keep yeh warm," he compromises, opening his arms up. You consider the proposition for a moment. It sounds inviting to be held, and you wonder briefly if he offers for his own comfort.

You drop to the deck of the boat, letting the flask rest against a wall. Alex pulls his knees up and allows his legs to fall apart, creating a space between them for you. You swivel around, pressing your back to his chest, resting your head against his shoulder. He's still wet, but he feels warm as he brings his arms around you, wrapping the blanket around your torso. His hands skim your sides where he holds the material taut.

"Better, innit?" he asks, and his hot breath puffs over your cheek. You nod in agreement, grasping at the sleeves of his jacket. His hold is tight. You're unsure why it makes you comfortable enough to never move again.

"Where are you from?" Alex murmurs softly into your ear. He rests his head back against the boat, staring up at the stars.

You name your hometown and Alex hums in recognition.

"What about you?" you ask. "Where's home?"

That gets him talking. He names his own hometown, and when you tell him you've never heard of it, he launches into a vivid description of the area. It's in the countryside, with rolling hills and open air. But there's a small town a few miles over, with a busy square full of shops, and that's where he likes to spend most of his time.

You listen to Alex speak. His voice is low and drawling, and his accent differs from what you're used to, but you find comfort in it somehow. You can feel the ache in it, the deep yearning for home.

"Sorry," he apologizes after a few minutes. "Probably borin' yeh."

"No, it's okay," you assure him, and you press back into him thoughtlessly. "How long have you been out here?" you ask gently.

Alex pauses, licking his chapped lips and trying not to recall all of the death he's witnessed.

"A while. Was stuck on the beach fo' a week," he whispers. "Been on three ships tha' went down."

You can't help the broken breath that falls from your mouth. Three ships? You've only seen one ship sink, and you weren't even on it. You can't imagine what he's been through, what he's seen and done and thought, how hopeless he's felt.

"I'm so sorry," you find yourself whispering.

Alex's arms tighten around you. It feels like it's been years since he's seen a woman, let alone held one. It's refreshing. You smell so clean, and your skin is soft as he rests his chin in the crook of your neck. Your lungs fill with a surprised breath, but he hopes you don't really mind. He hasn't felt this comfortable in weeks.

"I lived," he whispers. "Tha's the important part, I guess."

You don't really mind. He smells a bit, like oil and seawater and sweat. But he's warm, and you can feel his gratitude for being able to hold you.

Alex didn’t realize how tired he was until a weight settles over his eyes. He feels them drawing shut without his consent. You shift in his arms as his grip slackens. 

"If you want to sleep, I can get up-"

"No," he protests immediately. He constricts around you again and shakes his head gently. "Don't leave."

"Are you even comfortable?" you ask. His legs are bent up and he has to be feeling some type of ache.

Alex hums thoughtfully. He shifts a bit and lets his arms relax again. For a moment, you're nervous that he might just let you get up.

"Can yeh turn 'round? We can lay down, 'f tha's a'right."

You scoot forward, out of the blanket and a few feet away from him, shivering at the loss of his body heat. Alex stretches his legs out and sighs when his knees pop appreciatively. He unwinds the blanket from his shoulders and shuffles until he's on his back, shoulder pressed to the boat's edge. He's left a small sliver of the deck for you, between his body and an inner wall. You settle into it on your side as he spreads the blanket out on top of himself.

"C'mere," he orders, pulling you closer into his side. You rest your head on his chest and his arms wraps around you while his other hand drapes part of the blanket over your body. "'S it a'right?"

"Perfect," you confirm, allowing yourself to soak in his warmth again. You're pressed up against the side of his body, ear positioned almost directly over his heart, because you swear you can almost hear the beating of it beneath the ripple of waves.

"Yeh tired?" he asks, and you can feel his chest rumbling beneath your cheek.

"A bit," you whisper, hesitantly letting your hand rest just below his ribcage, over the damp material of his uniform. "You must be exhausted."

"'M okay," he denies, but you can hear the rasp of sleep in his voice.

You stare silently at his name tag, tracing your fingers over the engraved letters. It isn't long before you feel Alex's arm loosen around you and his breathing steady beneath you. It isn't long before you're falling asleep, too.

***

"Oi."

Alex awakes to someone kicking at his leg. He turns into you, holding you tightly against his chest and burying a hand into your soft hair.

"Get up."

Alex receives another light kick to his leg and he pries his eyes open to a lightening sky. He turns his head to glare at the man standing over the two of you, squinting his eyes against the light that silhouettes him.

"Wha's your problem, mate?" Alex grumbles, quiet enough that he won't wake you.

"Think you'd better get up before her father comes out of the cockpit," the stranger informs him. He's not a soldier, Alex realizes. He's dressed in common clothes. He was probably the one who helped Alex into the boat. "We're nearly at port and he won't take too well to you holding her like that."

Alex glances down at you, asleep in his arms. He nods in acknowledgment and the man leaves.

"Oi, love," Alex mumbles, brushing hair back from your face. You don't move, though. He slips his arm out from underneath you, laying you gently on the deck and draping the blanket over you as he stands up.

The sun is just rising in the east. Alex stretches himself out and joins a group of soldiers, passing around a flask of water. He's almost completely dry now, and the feeling is relieving.

You wake up when the boat is pulling up to dock. Your neck aches and you feel colder than you did when you fell asleep. Alex isn't beside you when you open your eyes. You're sprawled out on the deck, alone.

You push yourself into a sitting position and rub at your tired eyes. Footsteps echo across the deck and you lean forward to see a crowd of soldiers funneling off the boat and onto the dock. Your heartbeat rises into your throat. Maybe you'll never see Alex again.

Adam and your father are inspecting the vessel when you throw yourself into the group of soldiers, hurrying off the boat. Your head whips back and forth between faces, looking for one in particular. You don't see him, though.

Your search stops at the train that everyone is loading onto. Alex isn't out here. He must already be on board. You take a step back from the car you stand in front of, wrapping your arms around yourself. The cold morning air has begun to seep through your clothes.

Alex sits at a table by himself, staring out the window numbly. He can feel a strange ache in his chest. He wanted to say goodbye to you, but you were still sleeping when he left the boat, and he thought this way would be easier, anyways. No matter how short the time he spent with you, he felt a draw to you, and a connection that didn't make much sense. He only just met you.

When he sees you standing outside, though, looking cold and defeated, he starts to rise without thinking. His eyes remain glued to you out the window as he moves into the aisle, shoving rudely past men heading in the opposite direction. He shoved back and cursed before he finally makes it to the door, nearly tripping down the steps.

You're staring at your shoes when you feel a presence in front of you. Alex is standing in front of you when you lift your eyes. You barely get a surprised breath in before his hands are grasping at your face, tugging you forward. His lips are dry and chapped when they press roughly to yours. You clasp your fingers around the front of his uniform, holding him against you as his tongue dips into your mouth, licking desperately at the taste of you. His hands fall to your waist, pulling you even closer as his lips part from yours, leaving softer kisses along your jaw until his mouth is at your ear, puffing labored breaths over your skin.

Alex's eyes scan over a stack of newspapers on the table behind you. The fight continues. Dunkirk wasn't the end for him. He'll have to fight again. He doesn't know if he can do that. He doesn't know if he'll make it home next time.

"Come with me," he whispers.

"What?" You pull back to look at him. His green eyes are intense as his gaze flicks over your face.

"Run away with me," he repeats. "W'can go anywhere, do whatever yeh want. Let's jus' go."

Your thoughts travel back to home. Your father won't be letting you leave the house any time soon, not since you followed him into war without his permission. And he keeps trying to pair you up with Adam, but you don't even like Adam. What's left for you here? You haven't known Alex for long, but you know that you'd like to spend time with him. You'd like to uncover all of his little quirks and listen to his late-night thoughts. You want that.

"Okay."

Alex's eyes widen, whether with surprise or excitement, you're not sure. He lifts you into his arms and spins you around, pressing a kiss to your lips again. You can feel him smile against your mouth.

"Let's go, then," he whispers as he sets you down.

Alex's fingers lace together with yours and he tugs you beside the length of the train, which has just finished loading up soldiers. The two of you race around to another train, where civilian passengers are stepping aboard. Alex sheds his jacket into a ditch and rips the tags from around his neck. He slips them into his pocket and then walks you calmly over to a train car, holding your hand at the back of the line.

Died on the beach. That's what Alex hopes officials will think happened to him. He'll be left in peace, with some boring job. Maybe he can spend the rest of his long life with you. Maybe the two of you will fall in love and get married, have a family of your own. Maybe he'll be able to keep you warm every night. It's all he can hope for. And he can't help but think that you've saved his life more than once.

Part 2: Keep Yeh Safe

[cosmiclatte28]

Autumn in my heart (krisbaek) (chanbaek)

One shot - angst/fluff

Krisbaek -chanbaek

Warning : mentions of kris wu, will bring you back memories of our best "chicken nae style anya" brother 🤧🤧

(Posted on wattpad before, so yeah this is my original work)

Enjoy

The picturesque scene of red and orange trees cannot fool the dull and somber race of falling leaves pulled by the gravity. Be honest, autumn is depressing. See the falling leaves, dying every time a gush of cold wind tingles. Baekhyun hates seeing the piles of dead leaves on the ground, he feels like the trees are selfish that they let the leaves die in order to survive.

The clock strikes six when Baekhyun has put on his tailor fitted Pea coat from Schott's. Tonight, his favorite fragrance from Clean accompanies him. He inhales his favorite floral woody musk mixed with a slight hint of fresh soap and gets himself ready as his smart watch rings with a caller ID he loves dearly. His lover has rung him up saying he is downstairs waiting for him to take his time. Baekhyun makes his last tuck on his Pea coat and he pockets his phone as he slipped his feet to his leather boots and Baekhyun makes sure to kiss his corgi good bye before keeping the key in his pocket and slightly run to meet the waiting prince; his waiting prince!

The elevator ride almost killed Baekhyun; he frowns whenever the door opens and what greets him are the foreign faces of his neighbor from other floors; after pressing the close button five more times, Baekhyun finally reaches his destination. With his crescent eyes he scans the whole room and finds his prince in no time. His fashion and his tall body make him easy to spot.

"Kris! I'm here, let's go!" Baekhyun clings into the taller man's arm and giddily drags him out of the warm lobby. The early cold wind harshly welcomes them outside; Kris clears his throat and pulls the brunette closer. He takes in his small hand, holds it firm in his big hand, and pops it nicely into his toasty pocket of his Burberry trench coat. "It's starting to get cold," Kris smiles.

Baekhyun blushes, even when Kris had done this for three consecutive autumns, his heart will always beat like it was his first time. He did nothing though and just follow his long legs that bring them to a place Baekhyun knows a bit too much.

"Usual place Kris?"

The tall blonde man nods and after walking through the busy streets, they found themselves in a restaurant district. Baekhyun's stomach growls when the delicious smell of his favorite food can be smelled from a meter. They sit down on their usual chairs, place the same ordinary menu; a Hawaiian pizza slice for Baekhyun and a Pepperoni for Kris. Though Kris never agrees that pineapple goes with pizza, he never speaks his opinion out loud to Baekhyun, he just can't. Try and say that to a man who really enjoys it and do you dare see his heart breaks? No Kris doesn't want to break his heart; it's the last thing he wanted to do to Baekhyun.

Dinner is amazing. Over two slices of giant pizza and soda, they exchange stories, laugh over new jokes, and secretly treasure this sweet moment. They end their pizza date with a split bill and with the warmth of a full stomach. The two men make their way out of the bright, fragrance road and move to another crowded and romantic district.

Baekhyun told Kris about a new milkshake shop opening in here in Gangnam, and Kris will do everything that brings a smile to Baekhyun's face. With Baekhyun standing close by his side, Kris naturally slides his arm to hug Baekhyun's slim waist from the side as he reads the menu in the TV from the queuing line.

The café is full of sweet couples, the atmosphere here is so warm and comfortable, Kris knows this will 99% become their favorite hangout place.

"We're so sorry, but we sold the second last cup already... We only have one left for the special house favorite's chocolate," the man with a name tag reading Yixing, smiles apologetically to the two sweet couple across him.

Baekhyun runs his eyes to the TV screen to look for another substitute, but Kris was faster.

"No problem, an extra straw will do. How much for the last cup?" Kris hands Yixing his card and swipes the bill.

Baekhyun squeals deep inside his heart, how Kris could always do a new sweet action every time they go out?!

"You sure don't want anything else?" Baekhyun asks when Kris lets go off his straw after a good five sips.

Kris shakes his head and raises his thumb to wipe a trace of chocolate from Baekhyun's lips, "No, you can have them all. It tastes good and I know you like them so much." Kris kisses his thumb and cleans the chocolate from Baekhyun's lips.

Baekhyun playfully punches Kris, "What's into you?! Why are you suddenly this sweet!"

Kris laughs it off and rolls his eyes, "Because I am a nice boyfriend? Come on admit it—" Baekhyun shuts him off with a quick peck "—I'm going to have heart attack Baek, if you are making that a habit."

After making a loud sip to ensure he leaves nothing on the bottom of the glass, Baekhyun and Kris step their foot out of the lovely café. They freeze when they see people carrying umbrellas and celebrating something.

"The first snow!" Both men choir and giggle upon welcoming the cold winter!

Baekhyun reaches for a folded umbrella he had brought in his pocket and this time takes the lead to pull the giant closer and tries his best to raise the umbrella to his height. Kris cannot oppress his gummy smile and allows Baekhyun do his thing.

"I am not taking care of a sick giant again, that's why I read the weather forecast earlier and they predicted the first snow the fall. Turns out they were accurate this year, come Kris let's walk under the first snow!" Baekhyun sneakily places his hand into Kris' coat and the taller simply holds his hand.

They have fun for a moment under the first snow, took some pictures and updated their social media platforms.

"The snow is falling harder, shall we head home?" Kris worries for their health. The two men are responsible for their working days, falling sick is something they can't afford.

Baekhyun does not refuse; along their careful steps on the slippery grounds the two men don't stop talking at all. They will find new topics whenever they seem to come to an end. Tonight is a good date night. Their date night ends with Kris ushering Baekhyun back to his Apartment room.

"Good bye Kris, thank you for tonight!" Baekhyun shakes his wet umbrella.

"No problem Baek, I'll be going now,"

"Wait—" Baekhyun runs to his room and returns not long after it, he gets on his tip of toes and wraps a warm red scarf over Kris "—take that with you, it's my winter present. Stay safe okay and call me when you got home." Baekhyun buries his face on his chest as he hugs him tight.

"Thanks honey, Good night." Kris steps back and waves his hand.

Baekhyun wiggles his hand in panic, "Oh take the umbrella! And please just grab a taxi!" Baekhyun pushes his umbrella to Kris' hand.

Kris chuckles and tousles Baekhyun's soft hairs, "Yes sir! I can take care of myself—" Kris winks and Baekhyun rolls his eyes. The tall blonde makes his stealing move and kiss the plump lips of Baekhyun before finally going back home.

__

Sun rises and sets, moon shines and hides, the world rotates and time runs. Their love for each other blooms, although their relationship has ups and downs, the two can overcome the big waves and sail their ship to another calm ocean. A calm sea will never make a skillful sailor, and one day the biggest wave crashes to their ship, and Baekhyun feels like he is forcefully drowned into the dark deep grief of heart breaks.

The road is crowded, well at least there are cars speeding in the road, and his sparkly eyes are fixed on a "sweet" scene in front of him. Yeah sweet if the people you saw were someone you did not know, or your best friend; but seriously not sweet if it's your boyfriend you saw over the road holding hands with another pretty boy, wrapped in an expensive suit looking all lovey dovey with your man. Maybe Kris did not know or see Baekhyun on the other side of the road, but Baekhyun cannot mistake that man as someone else. His eyes turn red; Baekhyun fetches his phone and takes the speed dial to call Kris. He waits for a moment with his eyes fixed on the two men across him.

The pedestrian traffic turns green, and Baekhyun sees the two of them walking to cross the road. He quickly hides himself in an old payphone box while still listening to the waiting tone and keeping an eye on Kris. When Kris made it with the sweet smiling guy to the same street as Baekhyun's he swears his call just was sent to voicemail. Kris also presses his screen earlier, hufth he didn't even hesitate to reject his call. Insteaad, Kris looks so happy walking with this new man. His jealousy and suspicion completely take over him, he leans over the small phone box and stares at his screen emptily.

"Sorry, busy can't pick up your call." Kris' message appears in his notification bar.

Baekhyun swallows the lump stuck in his throat; disappointed and angry the lonely man runs back to his apartment. He was planning to buy dinner and surprises Kris in his office for working overtime. If his vocabulary for overtime means having a walk with another man, heol Baekhyun won't bother coming to see him.

Baekhyun locks himself in his room and cries his heart out, his stomach grumbles, but his heart aches more. Baekhyun ignores all of the calls and messages in his phone. Thirty minutes later he wipes his eyes and after ensuring his heart he needs to do this: Baekhyun texts a number.

"Soo, you're right... I'm coming to the dinner tomorrow. What's his name again?"

This time Baekhyun regrets not listening to his friends when they warned him about his boyfriend playing fire behind his back. Baekhyun is too naïve and blunt to realize Kris has slowly changed. He was not as sweet as he used to, he got busy, and he rarely picked his calls. At first Baekhyun simply forgive him; thinking he must be busy with his works, turns out Baekhyun is living blindly.

The tall blonde man enters his apartment and paces his room nervously while sticking his phone to his ear. He bites his lips when the line beeps but no one seems to answer the call.

"Pick up. Pick up Baek.... Please... I'm worried sick..." Kris ends the waiting and jumps to the message room. He sends more messages asking if Baekhyun is okay, why is he not picking up calls, and why is he not reading his messages.

Kris feels guilty rejecting Baekhyun's call earlier, but he cannot pick the call there when he thinks his coworker has a big crush and is flirting with him. Kris cannot bring himself to answer the call and crushes the cute man's dream. Yes, Suho, his co-worker is lately clinging on his side, and Kris cannot lie and say he's unattractive. Suho is a calm and nice man, good with works, and Kris finds it hard to keep his heart stable when he's around.

Kris thought he saved Suho from crying in the streets, when in reality his real boyfriend is the one crying on the busy streets... by himself. Poor Kris doesn't know this.

__

The next morning, Baekhyun did not bat an eye nor reply any of his messages. He muted his number and prepares for work. As he sprays his perfume, the front door beeps open and a tall man he used to love, but now hates, shows up with a bouquet of yellow flowers on his hand.

"Good morning sunshine! What's with the cloudy face?" Kris extends his hand to give Baekhyun the arrangement.

Baekhyun looks at his sickening handsome smile and walks to take his working bag. "Nothing. I'm tired of work and this life full of lies."

Kris frowns, "What do you mean?"

Baekhyun just hums an "I don't know" tone and occupies himself with packing his lunch and laptop.

Kris walks to the kitchen table and picks Baekhyun's phone, he scrolls through the notifications and shakes his head, "WOW! You haven't open my text, not a single one! Why?" he sounds confused.

Baekhyun is the type to have his phone on his nose almost every second, what's with leaving Kris unread?

Baekhyun snatches his phone, "I fell asleep earlier yesterday after you said I shouldn't come and have dinner with you, since you're taking overtime."

Kris sighs, "Come on Baek, you're acting like this just because I denied your offer to eat dinner together?" Baekhyun walks away.

"Don't act so childish. We can always have dinner together tonight or other nights." Kris snaps.

Baekhyun keeps his cold face on; he takes his lunch and working bag, and slips into his shoes. Kris shadows him all over the place.

"Really? Then why did you cancel it yesterday?" He wears his shoes and holds on to the door knob.

"I had a sudden meeting." Kris lies quickly.

"Oh so now you call walking with another man without companion, while acting lovely is your definition of meeting. To me I call that a secret date mister!" Baekhyun stomps his foot, "Now go! Leave! I am tired of your lies!!" Baekhyun exits the room, but Kris holds a grip of his hand.

"but..." Kris is cut off by Baekhyun's loud voice, "For your information Kris, I saw you with my own eyes walking with a man and rejecting my call." Baekhyun raises his tone and his face turns red. He breaks his hand free and rushes to the parking lot.

Kris runs after Baekhyun, but luck must've left him today for the lift closes before he can reach him. Baekhyun is clearly mad and fed up, for he is not trying to do anything to clean up the misunderstanding.

Their day goes on differently, Baekhyun is still absorbed in his sadness and pain, while Kris... Kris thinks today's problem will end like any others. His day is smooth and the man from yesterday even offers him coffee. Upon seeing Kris busy checking his phone; waiting for someone to call or chat; Suho asks him, "What's bothering you?"

Kris thinks for a while, should he tell Suho what actually happened, but what if things get more dark and dangerous? After some consideration, Kris decides to use the help chance. He told Suho what happened yesterday and earlier this morning. Suho just laughs and comes up with a solution, "I can help you clarify this... Give me his number, I'll talk to him."

Kris denies that idea at first, but after some more convincing words from Suho, he gave up Baekhyun's phone number to Suho. He thought maybe Baek would listen to Suho.

Sure, Suho's idea was not completely wrong, Baekhyun answers his call in a friendly manner and he did not blame Suho for anything. Baekhyun listened to all of Suho's kind and sincere explanation, but his heart still cannot easily forgive Kris for doing it.

__

Baekhyun dresses up nicely in his bomber jacket, and puts on his cap to hide his puffy eyes. He takes his steps to greet his date tonight, the man Kyungsoo told him about. Park Chanyeol, son of the CEO of Eve's corporation: Korea's first leading group in food supply, while Kris is the son of the second leading group.

To put it into words, Chanyeol is a man of daydream. He is everything you expected when meeting a living prince charming. He talks in his deep voice, his choice of words are amazing, his fashion taste is casual yet daydreaming, his manners are polished as perfect as one can be, but no matter how nice and perfect Chanyeol is, his heart cannot stop comparing him to Kris. Kris is not as perfect as him, Kris is more of the clumsy type and silly. However one thing for sure, Baekhyun likes Chanyeol's jokes better than Kris'

His choice of place for a first meeting is way beyond expectation. Baekhyun would have dressed up properly if he knew Chanyeol is bringing him to a secluded private restaurant. Baekhyun seals his mouth tightly about this date, yet Kris knows.

He comes home with a bright smiling face, Chanyeol had just dropped him off from his Mercedes-Benz G65. Baekhyun secretly smiles to himself and wraps his jacket tighter as he enters the lift to reach his house. He can't stop humming small tunes while taking his light steps.

With a big surprised face, Baekhyun takes a step back when Kris greets him in his stern voice.

"Why are you here?" the shorter man sounds annoyed. His mood totally jumped from hype to down.

Kris raises his brow, "Am I not allowed to visit my lover? Beside I came here to check if he's here yet, since he ignored my calls and texts." Baekhyun makes his way to the kitchen and fills himself a glass of water, "Well, sorry but I have someone to see tonight," Baekhyun shrugs his shoulder.

Kris joins him to the small kitchen, "Yeah and I just found out my boy, without my acknowledge, went to meet another man and came home—" he glances at his watch, "—late, my boy came home pretty late. It's 10!"

Baekhyun finishes his glass of water, and slams his cup a bit too hard, "So what? I'm big enough to come home whenever I want and I can take care of myself."

"Who's that man? How are you sure he is someone good?" Kris elevates his tone.

Baekhyun takes a deep breath and speaks out loud clearly, "it's none of your business! Even I did not know who the man you're with yesterday was and I did not ask you anything! I did not interrogate you Kris Wu!" Baekhyun spits those words in one breath, he tosses his jacket then locks himself in his room. Kris knocks on his door relentlessly and all he gets is silence.

Silence from the loudest man is the scariest thing

Baekhyun wakes up with heavy head, puffy blood shot eyes, and a runny nose. He forces himself to leave his bed and calls in for a day off today. He has called Chanyeol last night and told the new man everything, something in his heart screams that Chanyeol can help and Chanyeol will not hurt him like Kris did. With his beloved corgi walking beside him, Baekhyun opens his door and freezes when he sees Kris sleeping uncomfortably on the floor.

"Babo-ya," Baekhyun scoffs in his mind and leaves the tall giant on the floor. He makes himself a glass of tea and gulps an aspirin down his dry throat. He takes his time writing a short note and sticks it on Kris' free arm. He bends to place a soft kiss on his temple, probably his last, and Baekhyun secretly leaves.

Kris wakes up from the pain his back screams for sleeping on the floor, he yawns and stretches then looks around and realizes he had fallen asleep when begging Baekhyun to open the door. He sees the post it on his arm and he quickly reads it. His brow scrunches as the line gets down, and finally they widens and his mouth fell. Kris lost his sense of touch, hearing, and sight... he feels like a thunder just hit him and he's drowned in his emotions. He slowly sits on the sofa, and re-reads the nicely written letter. He makes sure to not miss any single word or get the wrong idea. But no matter how many times he checks the letter again, the words don't change.

"Baekhyun wants us to end it here," Kris speaks to himself, the tall blonde quickly searches the house. Hoping to found the man he was looking for, he needs to discuss this with Baekhyun. Seriously they did not need to break up over a silly matter!

"Baekhyun-ie, what do you mean? We can talk about this... where are you?" Kris puts on his shoes and coat.

"We don't have to discuss anything Kris. We're not meant to be, I realized we're not made for each other. Our parents don't even support this relationship we had for three and a half years. It's over Kris, go get that man and I will go my way." Baekhyun explains as best as he can.

"No, We need to meet. We're not breaking up over phone. I don't consider our relationship over just because you decided it by yourself. We need to meet." Kris grips his phone hard.

"I can't Kris, I'm no longer near you. Bye," Baekhyun said.

Kris hears the faint background sound and damn that man is in the airport, where the hell is he going now without telling him.

Baekhyun turns off his call and sadly stares at his wallpaper. It's a picture of happy Kris and Baekhyun laughing under the mistletoe from their last Christmas.

"Are we ready to go?" Chanyeol's deep voice resonates beside him. Baekhyun groggily nods and copies his steps to the boarding gate. Baekhyun takes one last heavy breath; yes he is leaving Korea and Kris behind. This is what his family wants, this is for the best.

Baekhyun comes from the leading electronic cooperation in Korea; turns out his parents had made an agreement to make Baekhyun and Chanyeol an official pair. Simply said his parents arranged his marriage with Park family for the sake of their business. The Byun family does not have a good history with the Wu family. Both Kris and Baekhyun had been trying their best to keep their boat sailing despite the harsh wind made by their own families, but Baekhyun has had enough. The two used to think if they are together, they can fight their families and live happily ever after, but that's too good to be true.

Now, his family has made a lot of agreements with The Park family, and that explains why Baekhyun is sent to leave Korea with Chanyeol the night when Baek reported Kris' actions. His father used the situation to break them apart, and he partly succeeded. Baekhyun is now seated on the first class flight to Britain, with his future fiancé (That's what his parents insisted).

__

The loving couple separated without a clear ending, Kris still lives his life to the fullest he can, but everything is pointless when Baekhyun is not in his life. He did not date anyone, he still holds on to the belief that Baekhyun is still his boyfriend, and he is still committed to that man he loves.

Suho has tried a lot of things to set Kris up with a new date, but none of them seems to win his heart. Kris only attends the blind dates Suho made, just to respect his kindness and attention. Suho himself has won the heart of the cute guy in the milkshake shop Kris and Baekhyun once visited, Yixing. Suho was close with Kris because he needs help with winning the cute dimple man's heart. The night when Baekhyun went home with Chanyeol, Kris was actually waiting for him to explain everything. Kris wanted to tell Baekhyun that he doesn't have to be jealous of Suho, for Suho has his heart and eyes for another man. Fate did not let him explain anything that night, and the next day Baekhyun was already gone from his life.

Kris changes into a cold and quiet man, while Baekhyun has opened his heart to the new man with him. Baekhyun realizes Chanyeol shares a lot of things in common with him. Knowing the new tall man with elf ears is easy and they get along so well. They spend a good two years in England, and they have to return to Korea when the working contract for Chanyeol ended.

--

Their plane touched down on the land of Korea, where the leaves are starting to fall and the winds getting colder. Baekhyun sighs it's once again autumn, He always hates autumn.

Chanyeol feels for having to check the office and sending Baekhyun home by himself. Baekhyun did not mind, instead he is happy he can have his time alone here.

Baekhyun takes the taxi to a park he missed. A small park with benches for couples to seat and enjoy the falling leaves with the big Han River across them. He breathes in the autumn leaves and slightly smile when he the memories he made here with Kris slowly floods his mind. A small tug is felt in his heart, how is that tall blonde doing? Baekhyun walks and walks then sits at one of the empty benches, his hand traces the old wood and smiles when his eyes caught a small scribble that managed to be intact even when seasons has changed.

He traces the craving and secretly hides his smile when the memory comes back in his mind.

The writing of Kris and Baekhyun in a big heart, deriving from four years ago. He remembered craving their names cheesily on a park bench when the first leaf fell. Baekhyun scoffs when he realizes a lot of things he did with Kris is associated with autumn.

He closes his eyes for a while and finds himself awaken in surprise when a familiar voice greets him,

"Baekyun?" the voice sounds unsure, "Baekhyun?! It's really you?" this time it sounds surprised and a bit happy.

Baekhyun opens his eyes and gulps when the same man he left without news is here again infront of him. The man he shared love, the man he secretly hates and loves, the same man who used to be the happiness of Baekhyun. He looks different! He definitely lose weight, his hair is now plain and boring brown, his eyes no longer offers the star and galaxy Baekhyun used to spent his time gazing. His voice didn't change though, still the same deep voice that never fails to make him tremble.

"Kris, well... yes this is me." Baekhyun sheepishly admits it's him.

"It's been a while," Kris opens his mouth. He takes the empty spot beside Baekhyun.

"Look Kris, I don't have much time," Baekhyun dares himself to face him and holds his tears back. He almost breaks down in tears when he once again sees the man he loves in front of him.

"I know it was hard for both of us, but that was the best for us. This is the best for us." Kris stays quiet despite wanting to kiss Baekhyun and tell him everything he kept to himself for a good two years, but no he wants to listen to Baekyun. He reflected for two years and he wanted to make up all his bad mistakes.

"Fate doesn't let us be together... our family hates one another... we can't... we just can't be one Kris." Baekhyun bites his lips and holds his tears back. His heart is breaking right now when he sees the broken look in Kris' eyes. When he first saw Kris sitting beside him, he swore he saw a glint of hope in Kris' eyes but now Baekhyun completely destroys it. He hates him for one again hurting Kris, but this is for their own goods.

Baekhyun can no longer holds his tears, he breaks down into tears right beside Kris. The brunette hides his face in his hands and his shoulder moves as he expresses all of his bottled up emotions. Something glints under the last rays of the sun and Kris moves closer to Baekhyun's side. He bravely takes Baekhyun into a hug and he brings his thumb to wipe the crystals falling over Baekhyun's smooth cheeks. Kris cannot speak a word, his mouth goes mute all he knows is his life is completely dark now without Baekhyun. It was dark already before when he left, but now when he clearly said that... Kris feels like dying.

"Good bye Kris," Baekhyun stands up and walks to leave the broken hearted man. He turns one last time to see his unrequited love; Baekhyun forces his sweet smile, "Thank you for the memories." Baekhyun takes quick steps to leave the park and Kris. A strong wind blows and makes the piles of orange dried leaves fly around and when it's over Baekhyun is completely not anywhere to be seen.

Kris closes his eyes and memorizes the last words from his love, he left him completely now. Baekhyun left his presence, his world, and his hopes. Kris fishes his jacket and pulls out a velvet box, he snaps it open and a simple diamond ring is shining there. Well, he's been carrying this around since Baekhyun left, he wanted to propose to him whenever he got the chance to see Baekhyun , but turns out his ring finger is occupied already with the same diamond ring he had in mind will fit his slender finger. Kris keeps the ring again in the box and he pockets it again in his left chest. He lets his tears run through his face as he walks along with the last falling leaf.

He leaves the love of his life with tears and thousand of memories. Kris smiles bitterly when he remembers how Baekhyun always hates autumn. Turns out all memories with Baekhyun are prominent in autumn: Baekhyun's least favorite season.

flashback <<<

"I hate autumn Kris, can you imagine how selfless the tree is, letting the leaf die so it can live longer." Baekhyun pointed to an almost bald tree.

Kris pinches the cute cheeks of Baekhyun, "Well yes the trees are selfish Baek, but did you see how sincere the leaves are? I'm sure the tree did not want the leaves to die, instead I think the leaf sacrifice itself so the tree can live," Baekhyun cuts him, "But why Kris? Why must the leaves die for the tree?"

Kris holds his lover's hand tighter in his jacket, "Because my Baekhyunnie, that way the tree can survive the harsh cold winter and make new leaf later on spring. That way the leaf and the tree are once again together!"

Baekhyun nods his head, "Woah that's a better theory! You should definitely be the one telling our kids bed time stories later on!" He cheerfully pecks a kiss on Kris' lips and blushes.

"Just like love, you must sacrifice for the one you love." Kris leans in for another kiss.

"I love you Kris, now and forever!" Baekhyun leans his head on Kris' strong and wide shoulder.

"I love you most Baekhyunnie, I'll be like the leaf in autumn!" Kris whispers to his world; Baekhyun

The two men in different place share the same memory tonight.

As the moon shines and the first snow falls they secretly whisper each other "I still love you."

[askharryhook]

Kiss The Girl [One-Shot]

@severelydelightfulpotterhead​ asked:  I don't know how prompts work but can you write some Huma fluff? Maybe an adaptation of the Kiss The Girl scene? Thank you in advance.

Ooc: I’m not GREAT at fluff so I hope this is fluffy enough! 

The night was calm, the moon full and the stars so bright the black sky was tinged with blue. The promise of fall lingered on the air, chilly as it bounced off the gentle sea, though not cold like it soon would be. It was nearly school time for both Auradon Prep and the Isle, and the Isle kids had all spent the past two days on the docks, fighting and wrestling over the shipment of last year’s used notebooks and broken pencils.

Thanks to their recent territory expansion, Uma’s pirate crew now controlled the entire dock, and thus almost the entire supply. There were boxes of the best stationary they could get their hands (and hook) on below deck on the Lost Revenge, enough for every member of the crew, plus a large sack of coins tied up at the captain’s waist.

To celebrate, Uma and Harry had bought a ‘feast’ of the freshest fried fish and chips from Ursula’s chip shop, and they all sat gathered on the deck, devouring the best meal they’d been able to afford in a long time.

Harry let out a long sigh as he flopped back onto his leather jacket, laid out on the creaky wooden boards like a blanket, his stomach so full it hurt to move. Uma sat next to him munching happily on a thick fry,

���You already done?”

“If I eat any more I may just turn into a fish meself. Maybe even a squid.” He grinned teasingly, earning him an elbow to the ribs and a playful glare. Harry pouted, dramatically pretending to be hurt.

“Looks like everyone is going to be well fed tonight.” She changed the subject, looking around the ship as everyone was growing close to finishing their meals.

“Aye. And thanks to you they’ll be prepared for school too.” Harry toyed idly with the end of one of her turquoise braids until she laid down beside him, arms crossed behind her head,

They laid in silence like that for a moment, starting up at the stars. Harry remembered learning how to navigate as a child with his father, and reached up with his hook to trace the constellations.

“SAILS! North!” The sudden shout from Gil in the crowsnest startled them, but his giant bumbly grin said there was no cause for alarm.

Harry scrambled to his feet anyway, leaning over the railing to peer out onto the dark ocean. Sure enough, pulling out of the Auradon Bay was a giant, obnoxiously bright yacht (no sails, but Gil wasn’t the brightest. He saw a ship and shouted and Harry wouldn’t fault him for that).

“Prep kids?” Uma asked boredly, watching the yacht inch closer through a spyglass.

“Aye, must be.” Harry sighed. The kids from Auradon Prep (king Ben specifically) often took a yacht or a boat out in front of the Isle to party on. They might as well come inside the barrier and slap all the Isle kids with their expensive gloves. The thought made Harry’s hand clench around the railing so tightly his knuckles turned bright white.

Lost in his slightly murderous thoughts, he jumped when he felt Uma’s finger under his chin, her signal that she’s waiting for him to speak,

“Sorry Captain.”

“Look.” Uma sneered, startling him further as she shoved the spyglass into his hands. Raising it to his eye, Harry took a moment to find the yacht, only to glimpse what his beloved captain was so distressed about. A grand staircase led from the main cabin down to the deck, which was being used as a dance-floor by a crowd of blurry teenagers. At the top of the staircase though, a girl in a distinctly familiar shade of purple hugged the king, staring up at him with what could only be puppy-love eyes. Harry felt his full stomach turn at the sigh.

“Dragon breath.” He spat, bristling as he gave the spyglass back.

“Of course Mal would join in when they’re rubbing their privilege in our faces. It fits perfectly with her M.O.” Uma growled.

“What I would give for them to come a teeny bit closer just so we could unload our cannons on them.” This had become a routine. Everytime Mal came on one of the Isle’s two tv channels, Harry would spend the next hour or so indulging Uma in her justified hatred of her vile bully.

They stopped their discourse though, when a strange vibration disturbed the air, unsettling the crew. It sounded vaguely of music, but warped, like they were underwater.

“Do they really need to play music that loudly?” Uma scoffed, tapping Harry’s elbow so he’d follow her down to the main deck. As soon as their boots hit the boards, though. The upbeat music shifted to a familiar lilting tone.

The yacht was coming in close enough now that they could see the people on board, and Mal had stepped down the stairs, allowing a girl much younger than Ben to take her place in the spotlight. She wore a sea-green dress and had distinct red hair. Harry squinted,

“Ariel’s daughter?”

“Must be.” Uma scoffed, not bothering to watch. She only stopped walking when the music became clear, several of their crew members picking up the tune with their own humming.

“Stop it!” Uma snapped, immediately recognizing Ariel and Prince Eric’s love song, “My mother would have your heads if she heard you.”

Most of the crew paused in their singing at her tone. Only one voice continued the song, seemingly unaware of the frightened tension of the ship.

“Gil! Get down here!” Harry shouted, slightly worried at the angry twinkle in Uma’s eyes. Perhaps it was the sudden, unexpected proximity to Mal, but Uma never looked at Gil that way unless he’d called her ‘Shrimpy’.

The yacht was close enough now to see all the Auradon kids in pairs, slow dancing with their arms around each other.

Gil climbed down the rigging slowly, looking around at his crewmates for help. All of them were looking terrified at Uma or sadly out at the yacht. Harry followed their gazes, feeling the pang of their longing. What kind of first mate would he be if he let them suffer?

“Uma…” He whispered, daring to step close enough that their bodies touched, “Let them have their fun for one night?”

Uma glared up at him for a moment, though she didn’t make to move. She was silent, but she stared hard into his eyes like she always did when she was thinking.

“Fine.”

Harry grinned, slapping Gil on the shoulder as he joined them, “Go nuts!”

The crew cheered around them, quickly falling back into the song with the help of Gil. Uma elected not to join them, heading to her cabin instead. Harry followed; she was a member of the crew after all. It was his job to make her happy too.

Making sure he shut the door behind him, Harry put on his classic smirk. The music from the Auradon yacht and their crew above cause the cabin to vibrate and echo with the tune.

“What are you doing?” Uma quirked an eyebrow. Harry sauntered up to her, pulling her into a hug. She tensed slightly, as she always did in his hugs. But they were alone, away from judgement, and eventually wrapped her arms around him too.

The music grew louder and clearer around them, and Harry began to rock their bodies to the tune. Uma let out a snort, but complied, moving her arms to rest around his neck.

“Don’t you dare tell anyone about this.” She muttered, not meeting his eyes.

“Lips are sealed, m’lady.” She glared at him for that, but he didn’t move away. Instead he pulled a hand down from his neck with his hook, holding her arm out as if they were going to really waltz.

Uma rolled her eyes, but Harry was close enough to see the blush creep into her cheeks and ears. His own face felt on fire, and he guessed he’d look the same. Their intimacy was always aggressive and needy, never slow like this. Harry rested his forehead against her and closed his eyes, letting the music completely take over his body.

Their crewmates had begun to sing, the words muffled but soaking into them nonetheless. Harry released her into a spin, bowing low to kiss her hand.

Kiss the girl

They sang above, and Harry felt a giddy jolt and the idea strike his chest.

You’re gonna miss the girl

Uma pulled him closer, placing her hand on the back of his neck.

Looks like the boy’s too shy aint gonna kiss the girl

Uma smirked, “You heard ‘em…”

Go on and kiss the girl

Harry leaned in slowly, placing a hesitant, unsure kiss to her lips. She tasted of the sea and, when he finally could pull away, adrenaline crashed around in him like the tide.

“About time.” Uma chuckled quirked an eyebrow. The music shifted back to upbeat but Harry found he could not move. Couldn’t even speak.

They flirted all the time, but Harry never considered his feeling for his captain to be genuine. Was this love? That was the only explanation for the buzz of magic in the air.

“Harry?” She touched his chin.

“I…l-lo-” He couldn’t get it out. That word….that FEELING was bad. It ruined lives. It kille.

Uma smiled. Not her usual smirk, but a rare, bashful smile that reached her beautiful dark eyes,

“I know.”

[captainsimagines]

Titanic (AU) - 4/4

Steve Rogers x Reader

In which you meet and fall in love on the one ship that is doomed for all eternity.

Warnings: I DO NOT OWN MUCH OF THE DIALOGUE; swearing; emotional abuse; physical abuse; character deaths; Titanic sinking; angst; TEARS

Word Count: 7,436 (It’s so long, I’m sorry.)

A/N: Listen to “Hymn to the Sea” guys, that way you get the whole feel.  Thanks for reading this! This was by far my favorite thing to write. I really hope you enjoy this and much as I enjoyed writing it.

(3)

PART FOUR (END)

April 15th, 1912

All you could feel was anticipation. Watching as the ship headed straight for the iceberg, you held onto Steve’s hand for dear life.  It was inching closer, closer, closer. 

It was almost as if this was all some sort of sick, ironic joke.  You had known there weren’t enough lifeboats, the ship itself was coined unsinkable, and you had finally experienced happiness. It was all falling apart as you watched the bow of the ship turn ever so slightly, looking as if it would miss.  But it didn’t.

“She’s gonna hit!” 

A moment was all it took. The ship smashed into the iceberg, screeching its way passed it.  The floor beneath you shook, the vibrations starting at your toes and rocking your already shaking body harder than you thought imaginable.  Steve gripped your waist, pushing you out of the way as big chunks of ice cracked and fell onto the deck in which you were standing.  The two of you landed far from the debris, eyes wide and full of fear.  The collision lasted forever, the iceberg scraping along the iron like a teacher with her chalkboard who wanted to incite countless nerves into her new students.  The collision shook every deck, first-second-third. 

Mr. Wilson paused his work, holding his table in place as his wine glass rattled and the chandelier threatened to fall. Mr. Stark stopped tying his tie and watched as the hanging mirror fell and shattered to the ground. Pepper ran into the room and held onto him for dear life.  Bucky and Wanda awoke, holding onto the poles of their bunk bed and trying to cover their ears at the same time.  No one knew what was going on, except for you and Steve and a few other people who had witnessed the colossal iceberg in all its glory.  

“Oh my god,” you whispered, watching the ship pass the iceberg and continue to scratch against it.  Steve helped you stand up, his expression matching yours.  This couldn’t be happening.  

Minutes after the collision, you and Steve ran up the stairs to alert Bucky, Wanda, your mother, and Loki.  

“How many compartments are already filled?” Mr. Wilson stuttered, descending the steps you and Steve had just climbed.  

“Five, sir.” 

“This is bad,” Steve stated, gripping your hand tightly. The action was reassuring- Steve by your side would soon prove beneficial. 

You entered the first-class hallways, your hand shaking every so often as Steve gripped it tighter.  You entered your sitting room, seeing your mother, Loki, and a few officers already in there.  You scrunched your eyebrows, searching your mother’s face.  She shook her head and lowered it, her eyes expressing disappointment. 

“Something serious has just happened,” you said. 

Loki scoffed, stepping toward you.  Steve instinctively stepped in front of you.  Loki stopped in his tracks, looking Steve up and down with a deadly glare.

“Yes, there has.  Two things have seemed to go missing this evening.  Now that one of them is back, I have a pretty good idea where to find the other,” Loki retorted, grinning as he said his next sentence.  “Search him.”

“Loki, we’re in the middle of an emergency!”

“Take your coat off, son,” an officer instructed, stripping Steve of his coat.  

“Now what?” Steve groaned, tearing his arms out of the pockets. The officer reached into the coat pockets and pulled out what he was looking for. 

“Is this it?”

Your face fell and your lungs constricted.  Confusion consumed you, the situation not seeming accurate and beyond constructed. The officer held up your diamond necklace, spinning it around before he handed it back to Loki. 

“This is bullshit! Don’t you believe it, Y/N.  Don’t you believe it,” Steve pleaded, struggling in the officer’s grip.  

You shook your head, the creases in your forehead tightening.  “He couldn’t have. I was with him the whole time.”

“I didn’t steal it, Y/N.  They must have put it in my pocket!”

“Shut up! With this you could have offered her the world, is that right?” Loki growled, holding the necklace tightly in his hand. 

“No, Y/N.  I have ten bucks in my pocket and nothing to offer you but please, believe me when I say I didn’t steal this!” Steve whimpered, the handcuffs scratching him. Your mother scoffed, leaning back into the couch and watching the scene unfold before her eyes.

“He couldn’t have,” you repeated, your voice becoming softer by the second.  You searched Steve’s eyes for an explanation, his wide ones looking at you in fear and desperation. 

“Perhaps he did it when you were putting your clothes back on, dear,” Loki whispered in your ear, his hand inching up your arm and his nails digging into your tender flesh.  You couldn’t feel the pain.  Instead, you felt utter betrayal. Loki had found the drawing you had left in the safe. 

“Take him away,” Loki commanded, his hands still on you.  Your eyes filled with tears as you watched Steve continue to struggle.  You were frozen, not even Steve’s screaming knocked you out of your trance. 

“You know I didn’t do it, Y/N! You know I didn’t do it! You know me!”

The tears finally fell.

Mr. Wilson spread his blueprints across the wooden table, his breath quick. “Water, 14 feet above the keel...”

“That’s right, sir.”

“And in boiling room six?” Mr. Wilson hesitantly asked, the answer he was given making his heart stop. 

“When can we get underway, damnit?” Mr. Barton groaned, pacing around the room in only his pajamas. 

“That’s five compartments!” Mr. Wilson wiped his upper lip, sweat beginning to drip from his forehead.  “She can stay afloat with the first four compartments breached but not five... Not five.” 

The room was silent, the words ringing in everyone’s mind.  Mr. Wilson didn’t take his eyes off of Mr. Fury, the captain of the Titanic.  

“As she goes down by the head, the water will spill over the tops, then E deck. From one to the next, back and back and back. There’s no stopping it.”

“The pumps! If we open the pumps-” Mr. Fury began to explain but Mr. Wilson interrupted. 

“The pumps buy you time but minutes only... From this moment on, Titanic will flounder.”

“But this ship can’t sink!” Mr. Barton laughed, clutching his coat against his shoulders. 

“She’s made of iron, sir.  I assure you, she can.”

Mr. Wilson was in no mood for games, his whole reputation and dignity having been ruined. 

Mr. Fury stood with wide eyes, looking around the room as if he had caused this travesty himself. “How much time?”

Mr. Wilson wracked his mind for an answer, scanning the blueprints over and over.  “An hour... two at most.”

Everyone gulped, not knowing what else to say or do. 

“How many aboard, Mr. Rhodes?” Mr. Fury may have asked a question but he already knew the answer. 

“2,200 souls aboard, sir.”

Mr. Fury removed his hat and sighed, his eyes scanning everyone in the room to make sure his words stabbed each of their hearts. 

“I believe you may get your headlines, Mr. Barton.”

You stood in the sitting room, Loki and your mother still present. You could have sworn your mother only remained to tell you ‘I told you so’. The two of you were quiet except for the droplets of water that smacked against the wooden floor.  You tried to stop them, but the mere sight of Loki brought the tears back.

“What has gotten into you?”

You didn’t answer your mother, the floor looking more appealing than ever. 

“Answer her,” Loki demanded.  You looked up at him and shot him daggers.  Loki walked up to you slowly, his lips quivering angrily.  He shot his hand back and swiped it across your face, the impact snapping your neck in the other direction.  You yelped, stilling in Loki’s arms.  

“Look at me when I am talking to you!” Loki’s abuse was interrupted by the officer, who entered the room and instructed you to dress warmly and to put your lifebelts on.  You turned to your mother, disbelief written all over your face.  She wasn’t looking at you anymore.  Her eyes were closed and she faced the floor. You bit your lip and shook your head.  You assumed this would happen eventually. 

“We’ll continue this later.” 

You clutched at your cheek, walking to your closet and pulling out a jacket.  You wrapped it around yourself and stepped out into the hallway, ignoring your mother’s calls. 

Loki and your mother were trailing close behind you.  You stopped by the grand staircase, watching as the other first-class passengers walked around with heavy coats and lifejackets.  You hadn’t bothered to put one on. 

Amongst the commotion, you spotted Mr. Wilson walking around slowly, taking in every part of the ship as if it was his first time looking at it. 

You swallowed thickly and gripped his arm before he could escape.  “Mr. Wilson... Mr. Wilson.”

Mr. Wilson calmed as he saw it was only you.  “Oh, Y/N.”  His voice sounded sympathetic, almost as if he was about to burst into tears. 

“I saw the iceberg and I see it in your eyes.  Please tell me what’s happening,” you begged, your eyes flickering over his distressed face. 

“The ship will sink.” You slowly raised your hand to your mouth. “In an hour... All of this will be at the bottom of the Atlantic.”

Loki stood beside you, perplexed.  

“I need you to get to a lifeboat.  You remember what I told you about the boats,” Mr. Wilson stilled.  You nodded, placing your hand over his heart as registration. 

“Yes, I understand.”

“Please, tell only who you must.  I don’t want to be the cause of a panic.”

You watched as he left your touch, climbing the stairs of the grand staircase for the last time. 

The cold air hit you like a thousand knives, the jacket you were wearing not sufficient enough.  You looked around the deck that was crowded with first-class passengers.  You were desperately searching for Bucky and Wanda, wondering if they even knew what was happening. You wanted to tell them so badly, but as time had it, you were next in line to board the lifeboat. 

“Will the boats be seated according to class? Oh, I hope they aren’t too crowded,” your mother joked.  You gaped at her and your heart fell.  

“Oh, mother. Shut up!” You grasped your mother’s coat and pulled her in closer so your icy breath hit her face.  “The water is freezing and there aren’t enough boats.  Half the people on this ship are going to die.”

“Not the better half.” 

You whipped your head to Loki, anger swimming in your sad eyes.  Distress fireworks exploded in the distant skies, illuminating the face you had grown to detest. 

“You know, it’s a pity I didn’t keep that drawing.  It’ll be worth a lot more in the morning.”

Your breath hitched and your face fell.  “You unimaginable bastard.”

Loki chuckled at you and proceeded to help your mother into the lifeboat.  You watched their exchange, your next action registering in your mind.  

“C’mon, Y/N,” your mother reached out for you.  You backed away, another passenger happily taking your place.  The tears fell freely now as you decided what you had to do. 

“Goodbye, mother.”

You could hear your mother’s cries in the distance, the lifeboat lowering into the ocean.  You pushed passed everyone, determined to find Mr. Wilson again. 

“Y/N! What do you think you’re doing?” Loki snapped, almost tearing your arm out of its socket. 

“Let me go!”

“Wh-? To him? To be a whore to a gutter rat?”

You clenched your jaw, “I’d rather be his whore than your wife.” You spat in his face and ran away, your feet racing across the deck like you were on a mission. 

You searched the ship rapidly.  You were terrified.  Steve was trapped below the ship and you had no way of getting to him.  You whimpered, throwing people out of your way as you sped through the hallways.  You finally found Mr. Wilson, racing toward him like your life depended on it.  It did. 

“Mr. Wilson! Oh, thank god!”

“Y/N? What are you doing here? Get to a lifeboat! Quick!”

“Where would an officer take a man under arrest?”

“What are you talking about? Get to boat!”

“No, please! I’m doing this with or without your help but without would be harder,” you begged.  Mr. Wilson gaped at you but finally gave in, knowing you would not give up. 

“Take the elevator down all the way to E deck, then turn left.  You’ll come to a long corridor that’s labeled ‘crew passage’.  Turn right, then left again.”

You jotted it all down in your head, thanking Mr. Wilson quickly before you sprinted to the elevator. 

“I’m sorry, Miss but the lifts are closed.”  You released a growl, pushing the poor boy into the elevator and slamming him into the wall. 

“I’m through being polite, dammit! Now take me down!” He obliged. 

Once on E deck, the elevator came to a rough halt and water began pouring in.  You screamed, as did the boy.  He began pulling the lever back up but you protested, stepping into the hallway.  You ignored the cold water, splashing through it as you followed Mr. Wilson’s directions.  

“Steve!” 

You began hyperventilating, “Steve!”

“Y/N!”

You paused, looking behind you quickly.  Your heart raced and pounded.  

“Steve!”

“Y/N, I’m in here! I’m in here!”

You burst through the door, the water causing your legs to drag themselves.  You exhaled and cried, reaching out to Steve.  

“Steve! I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!” You threw yourself at him, kissing him all over his face. He sighed in relief, kissing you as well. 

“They put it in my pocket!”

“I know, I know!” His lips were your new safety net.  You couldn’t get enough of them.  Your kissing was all teeth and pecks, the both of you saying ‘sorry’ and ‘I forgive you’ through it all.

“I’ve got to get you out of here,” you stated, looking around for a key to unlock the handcuffs with. 

“It’s there! I saw them put in the drawer,” Steve said.  

You nodded and began fishing through the drawer. “Y/N.”

You looked up, the coldness of the water finally catching up to you. 

“How did you know I didn’t do it?”

“I just realized that I already knew,” you admitted.  

Steve smiled, his heart swelling. “Keep looking.”

You kept looking for the key and found it in the back of the drawer.  You rushed to unlock Steve.  He massaged his wrists as you opened them then pulled you in for another strong kiss.  

“We have to get Bucky and Wanda,” you said.  Steve nodded, his heart falling as he thought about his family trapped below decks. 

“Oh, shit! This is cold,” Steve grunted, reaching out for you and helping you through the rising water. 

“Go back down the main stairwell,” a guard ordered, locking the gates for the third-class passengers. 

“For the love of god, the ship’s bloody sinking!” Bucky yelled, shaking the gate angrily.  Wanda whimpered beside him but shot daggers at the guard.  

“Women and children first,” the guard said.  Carefully opening the gate, the first couple women made their way through. Bucky turned to Wanda with expectant eyes, holding her hands and pushing her to the gate.  She shook her head, turning around and falling into Bucky’s arms.  

“No, not without you,” Wanda hugged Bucky.  Bucky ran this hands through her hair, kissing her temple as he watched the chaos.  Men were pushing their way through the gates and the guard couldn’t contain them all. The guard pulled out small pistol, aiming towards anyone and everyone. Bucky’s instincts kicked in and he shielded Wanda, eyes widening as the guard closed the gates once again. 

“You can’t keep us trapped down here like animals!” Bucky yelled, pushing through the crowd and spitting in the guard’s face.  Wanda kept a close distance.

“Wait your turn then!”

“There are women and children down here! Let us go so we can have a chance!” With gritted teeth, Bucky turned and pulled Wanda with him, determined to find another route. Looking around frantically, Bucky’s eyes landed on none other than his closet friend in the world. “Steve!”

“Bucky!” Steve ran into Bucky’s arm, hugging him tightly and rubbing his back. Wanda sighed in relief, hugging Steve and then you.  

“How are you not in a lifeboat yet?” Bucky asked you.  Your teeth clattered but you smiled anyway.

“I had to come back for him,” you admitted. Bucky smiled brightly, pulling you in for a hug as well.  

“We have to find another way out!” Steve demanded, leading the way.  You took in your surroundings- women patiently but nervously waiting for an escape route to get their children through, husbands arguing with guards or hugging their family close. You tried to look away but unlike everyone in the first-class, these people actually made eye contact with you. There was no bowing of the heads or a slight ‘hello’-no- there was true pain and suffering.  

“Which way should we go?” you called, looking down every available hallway.  

“If this is the direction the rats are going, that’s good enough for me,” Bucky exclaimed, following the family of rats to the main stairwell.  Your eyes widened and you quickly made your way around the rodents. 

The main stairwell wasn’t all that crowded.  There was maybe ten people waiting to get through, all receiving the same answer of “When they finish loading the first-class passengers, they’ll start with you!” 

Steve pushed passed everyone and slammed the gate. “Open the gate.”

“Not your turn.”

“Open the gate, right now!”

“Not your turn!”

Steve sighed angrily and gripped the gate, shaking it so it could possibly detach. “You goddamn, son of a bitch!”

His anger was radiating off of him to you.  You couldn’t believe that your people were the priority.  You shook that word out of your head- they weren’t your people anymore. 

Steve ran to a corner and began yanking a bench from its nails.  Bucky quickly joined, helping Steve pull the bench from its previous position and holding it in their arms.  

You pushed everyone to the sides of the hallway to make the path clear for Steve’s and Bucky’s attempts at knocking the gate down.  “Move aside, move aside!”

“One! Two! Three!” Steve and Bucky rammed the bench into the gate but to no avail.  “Again!”

On their second try, the gate started to bend.  On their third, the gate broke off from the wall and fell to the ground. Steve hopped over and helped you through, Bucky helping Wanda.  

“You can’t go through here!”

Bucky punched the guard in the jaw, walking passed him as if his own knuckles hadn’t just assaulted his face. 

“Mr. Rhodes, why are the boats being launched half full?” Mr. Wilson cried, ordering the officers to stop lowering the boat.

“We weren’t sure of the weight, sir. These boats may buckle,” Mr. Rhodes replied. 

“Nonsense! These boats were tested in Belfast with the weight of 70 men! I saw a boat with twenty or so and then a boat with only twelve! Twelve!”

“Sir?”

“Fill these boats, Mr. Rhodes! Save as many lives as you can!” Mr. Wilson pleaded, heading back into dining hall.

Falling onto the first-class deck, the four of you scurried through the restless crowd.  It was becoming more intense, as if everyone finally registered what was about to happen.  Your eyes searched frantically for a lifeboat but you found Mr. Stark instead. 

“Mr. Stark, are there any more boats?” He almost didn’t recognize you; your dress and hair were soaked. The company you had beside you also made you unrecognizable.  

“Y/N? Your mother already got into a boat!” Mr. Stark exclaimed. 

“I need another!”

“There are more down there, go!”

With your eyes, you told him and Pepper goodbye.  You gripped Steve’s hand and ran across the deck.  Like Mr. Stark had said, there were about three boats loading.  

“Women and children!”

Your breath hitched and you began to back away slowly.  “Y/N?”

“I’m not leaving you,” you stated, placing your hands over his cheeks. He looked as if he was ready to cry so he hugged you close to his body, savoring the last moments he was probably ever going to have with you.  

“I can’t leave you,” you whispered. 

“Miss, come aboard!” Wanda struggled against the grip of the officer, her hand still in Bucky’s.  Wanda ripped herself away from him, pulling Bucky to her and kissing him with all the passion and love she had hid for years.  Bucky responded almost immediately, his first kiss with Wanda was to be his last.  She was yanked back, the feeling of Bucky’s lips still lingering on her chapped lips.

“Bucky, I love you! I love you!” Wanda screamed, restraining herself from jumping back onto the ship.  Bucky’s heart broke, shattering into a million pieces.  

“I love you, too!  Survive and live for me,” Bucky ordered, watching as the officer set her down in the lifeboat.  Wanda hugged her jacket close to her body, her wails growing louder. 

“To the end of the line!” Wanda cried, her chest rising and falling quickly.

“To the end of the line,” Bucky confirmed, gripping onto the ship’s railing and holding back his tears. 

The sound of her cries had your knees shaking and you just knew- you were next. 

“Get into the boat, Y/N,” Steve told you, peppering kisses across your forehead and temples. 

“Yes, get into the boat, Y/N.”

You gasped, Loki’s presence scaring you half to death.  “Look at you, you’re freezing!”

Loki removed his jacket and placed it over your shoulders.  You stumbled backwards, trying to get away from him.  Steve didn’t mind Loki giving you his jacket since you were going to be warmer. 

“Listen to me, get into the boat. I’m a survivor, alright? If we don’t meet in a boat, we’ll meet in Brooklyn. Do you understand?” Steve said, holding your face inches away from his. 

“Brooklyn. When we dock... be there,” you begged, kissing Steve tenderly even with Loki beside the two of you.  Loki turned away to restrain himself. 

“I have a deal with an officer on the other side of the ship.  Steve and I can get on safely there,” Loki informed you. 

“And Bucky,” Steve growled. 

“And Bucky,” Loki rolled his eyes. You debated for a while but finally nodded and agreed. 

“Step aboard, Miss!” You felt the officer pull your shoulders.  You stepped in, turning around to grab Steve’s hand one last time. The officer pushed Steve away, your hands breaking apart in slow motion.  

Wanda was seated beside you.  She was in her own world, however, her eyes never leaving Bucky.  You sat there, watching the fireworks explode and spread across the night sky.  Once the boat was filled to capacity, the officer ordered for it to be lowered.  You felt the boat jolt, lowering inch by inch.  Every inch was a stab to the heart and to your lungs, reminding you of the amount of love you still had to give and receive. Every jolt shot at Steve, too. He was forced to watch his angel, the love of his entire life, literally slip away from him.  Each jolt of the lifeboat nailed his walls down and he became numb. His eyes never left yours, the blue of his irises shining brightly before the devastating fireworks. His unreleased tears lay against his eyelids, luminous compared to the chaos around him. He stood there, gripping the railing and flinching each time the lifeboat lowered.  Bucky was experiencing the same, except he realized two things: 1) He got to hold Wanda for more than a year while Steve got to hold you for not even two whole days, and 2) Wanda was going to be alone again- no friends, family, shelter - she was all alone.

Steve’s expression was all you needed to witness before you understood- he wasn’t going to make it. Neither him nor Bucky. Your chest rose and fell quickly as you debated your options. 

You looked at Wanda and apologized quickly. She gave you a confused look before you leapt from your seat and jumped over the lifeboat. 

“Y/N!”

Steve’s voice called out to you.  You hung over the side of the ship, two passengers lifting you up and over to save you from the 50-foot fall. Once on deck, you ran to where Steve was. Steve kissed Bucky’s cheek before he went after you, almost as if he was telling him goodbye. He ran after you in utter disbelief, his chest contracting and releasing like a sea of fire, burning at his throat.  

You entered the grand staircase, running through the glass doors and scanning the room.  Steve ran down the steps and he finally saw you, shaking and weeping.  You jumped into his arms, wrapping your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck.  Your trembling form almost sent him to his knees, your weight dragging him down just slightly.  Steve kissed every part of your face not wanting to miss any inch, holding you close to his body every time you were about to slip. 

“Why did you do that?” Kiss. “You’re so stupid!” Kiss. “Why did you do that, Y/N?” Kiss.

 “To the end of the line,” you sobbed, grasping Steve’s chest and kissing him back.  

“I love you so much,” Steve finally declared.  You sobbed harder, clutching his suspenders.  The feeling of his hands all over you at the moment, desperately trying to latch onto every part of your body, wasn’t enough.  The closer you pinned yourself against him, the farther you were beginning to feel.  It continued like this for a while, the two of you connected with hard kisses and scrunched eyebrows.  

A gunshot rang out and Steve shielded your body with his. At the top of the grand staircase, Loki fired two more shots at you and Steve. You ducked and raced out of there, dragging Steve to the dining hall. First-class passengers threw themselves to the floor, the combination of freezing water and apparent bullets hard to fathom. 

Each time you thought you had outrun him, Loki rounded the corner and fired his remaining bullets.  Glass shattered around you and Steve but you kept running, lower and lower into the sinking ship.  

“I hope you enjoy your time together!” Loki yelled, sighing heavily. He dropped the gun into the water, seeing that it reached the middle of his stomach.  He scrambled back to the staircase, holding onto the railing as he realized something.  He started laughing dryly, shaking his head and cursing to himself. He had put the diamond in the coat. He had put the coat on you. 

“Steve, we need to get back to a boat,” you pleaded, hearing the rushing water inch nearer.  

“Right,” Steve said, taking your hand and leading you back to the open main stairwell.  Your eyes widened as you saw it was completely flooded, the walls straining and creaking loudly. 

“Steve,” you breathed out.  

“Shit.” Turning around, the two of you sprinted down the flooded hallway. The temperature was almost avoidable, your legs numbing momentarily but the amount of adrenaline within you counteracted. 

Before you could make it to the main stairwell, a loud rumble rung out.  Water exploded through the closed doors, heading straight towards the two of you. Its speed overpowered both of you, sending you to the floor to be swept away.  You were screaming, reaching out for Steve while the lights flickered.  The water rammed you against a closed gate and Steve rammed into you.  You grunted, the water pressing against the two of you harshly and preventing you from standing up.  

“It’s locked!”

Your words scrambled Steve’s mind, his idea’s thinning by the second.  There wasn’t much either of you could do now.  “Help!”

Your throat was raw. If you were to die right now, at least Steve was right beside you. As if immediately answering your prayers, a worker ran passed your gate. You begged for his help, exhaling in relief as he took his keys out. The water was now unbelievably high. The worker’s hand shook, causing him to drop the keys. You yelped, watching as he ran the other way to save himself. Steve dove under the water, flinging his hand around to try and grab the keys. You struggled to catch your breath, the water now at your chest. Steve finally grabbed them, coming back up to the surface and asking you which key it was. Telling him, you guided his hand to the keyhole and begged him to hurry.

“Steve!”

“I almost got it!”

“Hurry, Steve!”

“Y/N!”

“Hurry, Steve! Steve!” You were swallowing water now, the fading lights ironically calming you. Before you could choke, Steve pushed the gate open and helped you through while fighting against the current. You ducked under the pipe, latching onto the ceiling to keep from being whisked away. Once you resurfaced, you padded around the water searching for Steve’s hand. 

“Steve! Steve!” On cue, Steve’s head emerged. 

“I’m alright! Let’s get out of here!” He didn’t have to tell you twice. 

Once in the vacant dining hall, you urged Steve to wait for you. Confused at first, Steve asked you why. You stood, staring right at Mr. Wilson. He turned to you, his eyes drooping and his face falling. 

“Oh, Y/N.”

“Aren’t you even going to make a try for it?” you whispered. Mr. Wilson took in both of your appearances, drenched and tired. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t build you a better boat, young Y/N.”

You frowned, “It was a pleasure, Mr. Wilson.”

“We have to go, Y/N,” Steve said. 

“Wait, wait,” Mr. Wilson picked up the lifejacket from the table and handed it to you. “Be safe and good luck to you.”

You pulled him in and hugged him. “And to you.”

Bursting through a closed door, Steve and you had finally made it back to the top of the ship.  You didn’t feel it before while fighting for your life, but the ship was almost vertical.  

“We have to stay on the ship for as long as possible!” You nodded, allowing Steve to pull you through the sea of people. The scene before you would ultimately scar you for life. People were jumping off the ship, into lifeboats, gunshots rang, and the distress fireworks were endless. You struggled on deck now, having to climb against it.  Steve helped you to the stern of the ship, finally reaching the end of the boat altogether.  

“Steve!”

You whipped your head around, seeing Bucky fight his way toward you.  

“Oh, thank god!” Steve sobbed.  He held you tighter, reaching out for Bucky’s hand. Bucky was slipping, his hand inches from Steve’s.  You detached yourself from Steve, throwing yourself against the railing and holding yourself up. Not holding you anymore allowed Steve to catch Bucky just in time from falling.  He helped him steady himself, placing his hands on the railing. Out of the three of you, only you and Bucky were wearing lifejackets.  This worried you to new extremes, the suction of the sinking ship sure to try and pull Steve away from you.  

“I thought you were dead,” Steve stated, his body behind you and securing you to the railing.  You didn’t disturb their conversation, instead watching as the last flickering light from the Titanic died out.  

“Alive and well, pal,” Bucky attempted to joke. 

A sudden crack was heard all throughout the Atlantic.  You were certain the people in the lifeboats had heard it to.  The ropes from the vessels detached and snapped into the ocean. Straight out of a biblical tale, a loud roar sounded and you were now falling forward.  The hull of the ship wasn’t designed to withstand a vertical stance, thus causing the ship to snap in half.  You screamed bloody murder, your dinner threatening to escape your mouth.  Steve held onto you for dear life, yelling along. 

The stern of the ship hit the water but the weight of the flooded bow lifted it once again.  Steve thought fast, climbing onto the outside of the ship so he could stand upright when the ship was completely vertical.  Bucky followed his actions. Steve pulled you over the railing, placing you in the middle of him and Bucky.  You held onto his hand, eyes wide with fear as the ship bobbed for a few seconds before beginning its descent.  

“Steve!”

“The ship is going to suck us down.  Whatever you do, do not let go of my hand!” Steve yelled over the rushing water, glancing toward you for a response. 

“We’re going to make it, Y/N. Do you trust me?” The sound of the waves crashing was no longer therapeutic, its bitter dances inviting you to the gates of hell. 

“I trust you.”

Steve’s heart leapt for the thousandth time in three days, the early ours of April 15th, 1912 counting as his third and last day of knowing you. 

“Buck, Y/N, take a deep breath when I tell you to. Swim for the surface and keep kicking!” Steve leaned into kiss your temple before he stood up slightly. “Now!”

Breathing in deeply and for the longest time, you finally sank into the Atlantic.  The ship did its best to swallow you, but the lifejacket prevented it. You held onto Steve’s hand the best you could, kicking your legs as fast as possible. Your luck had run out and Steve’s hand detached from yours.  You swung your arm around underwater, desperately searching for any sign of him.  Unable to hold your breath for much longer, you reached the surface and gasped for air. Your foggy breath stabbed your throat, the water digging and scratching its way into your body. It was painful, unlike any pain you had every felt before. You screamed for Steve, splashing against the water along with a thousand others. You were a nameless face in a sea of thousands. 

“Y/N! Where’s Steve?” Bucky swam toward you, his lips purple and his hair crunching into ice. You looked the exact same. 

“I don’t know! I let him go! I don’t know!” you cried, the pain becoming unbearable. 

“C’mon, Y/N! I need you to swim!” Bucky commanded, gripping the side of your lifejacket and pulling you away from the rest. You didn’t want to follow him in case Steve showed up where you once were but you didn’t argue. Instead, Bucky swam to the far side of the chaos and stumbled upon a large piece of wood that was most likely a part of a door.  

“Y/N!”

You whipped your body around, locking eyes with Steve. You whimpered, swimming toward him and latching onto him. His lips were also purple and his eyes were beginning to fade in color.  Still, he was an absolute masterpiece. 

“She can get on here, Steve,” Bucky explained, latching onto the piece of wood and making sure no one else came around. Steve nodded, sharing a look with Bucky. You had missed it, but the look consisted of a thousand words. These words were mutual. They were going to save you, only you. 

Steve helped you onto the door, holding it steady on one side while Bucky held it steady on the other side. You shook violently, your teeth chattering so intensely that your brain rattled. Your attire was minimal, stained with the blood of many passengers, and the heels you were wearing stabbed the ends of your toes. All of these mishaps were worsened by the temperature: a pinch feeling like a punch, a punch feeling like a stab, and a stab feeling like a bomb. 

“We’ll take turns,” you uttered, your voice not allowing you to keep yourself steady.  

“It’s alright, Y/N. We’re... fine,” Bucky stuttered, breathing into the palms of his hands as he gripped the wood. His powerful quakes were giving him a headache, a headache that he was losing feeling of as time passed.

You held onto Steve’s hands. He was in front of you, arms on top of the door and his lips turning black and blue. Bucky was a few feet away, giving you two the privacy you needed. 

Steve reached out to Bucky and squeezed his hand, nodding while his lips quivered uncontrollably. Bucky sighed happily, relieved almost that Steve was giving him permission to start breathing slower. “I love you, Steve. Don’t you ever forget that.”

Steve wept, squeezing Bucky’s hand tighter and closing his eyes tightly. “Let go, Buck. I love you, too.”

You sobbed, turning away from Bucky as he closed his eyes. Steve struggled to swim to Bucky’s side. But when he finally made it, he checked his pulse once before letting out a strangled cry. Steve tore the lifejacket off of his best friend, kissing the top of his head once before guiding him underwater. Steve swam away before he could watch Bucky’s body sink into oblivion. He made his way back in front of you, his sobs creating some heat within his body. That sliver of heat was enough to keep Steve alive for the perfect amount of time. The right amount of time to tell you goodbye. 

“I’m... so sorry,” you bawled, surprised that tears were still swimming in your eyes. Of course, as they fell down your cheeks they froze almost immediately. Steve continued to weep but he pulled himself higher over the wooden door, interlocking your shaking hands. 

“It’s not your fault.” You began to whimper. “It’s none of your fault.”

“I love you, Steve,” you bowed your head, kissing his frozen knuckles. 

“Don’t you do that. Don’t you say your goodbyes,” Steve pleaded. 

“I’m so cold.”

“Promise me, Y/N. You’re going to get out of here and you’re going to live the life you always wanted,” Steve preached, staring into your closing eyes.

“I can’t feel my body.”

“Stealing those tickets, Y/N was the best thing that could have ever happened to me. It brought me to you.”

You tried to swallow, the dryness of your throat affecting the way you spoke. 

“You’re all I ever wanted,” you admitted, biting your lip. 

Steve croaked, “You’re what I wished for.” 

You shut your eyes, weeping. “Never let go of that wish, Y/N.”

“I’ll never let go, Steve.” The look in your eyes gave Steve all the reassurance he would need. He smiled, the action hurting his icy skin. He didn’t stop smiling, though. If he was to die, you would see him at his brightest. 

He kissed your knuckles for what seemed like an eternity, the action becoming rare as the screams of the other passengers became non-existent. 

Lying on your back, you stared at the immense group of stars that were prime witnesses to the travesty you had experienced. Still, they seemed peaceful even in your time of turmoil. You began to sing softly, your quiet singing the only current sound in the middle of the Atlantic. 

“Come Josephine, in my flying machine. And it’s up she goes... up she goes.”

A glare flashed in your peripheral vision, causing you to turn your aching neck to the side. There, you saw a lifeboat about to pass. You grinned, flopping onto your stomach and shaking Steve. 

“Steve, there’s a boat.” You rocked his wrists, denial consuming your frail body. “Steve.”

Your smile faltered but you kept shaking him, your croaking becoming angry. 

“Steve!”

His face was peaceful, his blue lips curved into a slight smile and his eyes were closed. Your eyes swelled, burning with great power. 

“Steve... There’s a boat,” you whimpered, shaking his hands once more. He wouldn’t wake up. You gasped, the cold air strangling your lungs. The cold of the night was no match for the pain you were feeling right now. This had to be by far the most intense, ridiculous, immense, violent, overwhelming pain you had ever felt.  You were absolutely certain you would never feel anything like this again. Nothing could ever compare. 

You lay your head softly against the wooden door and closed your tearful eyes, your mouth shaking and your teeth still clattering. This was to be your defeat. You thought back to the past three days- meeting a group of strangers, falling in love with one of them and deciding to run away together, and experiencing the fall of everything you had learned to love. You lost your belongings, your mother, your name, and the love of your life. Laying here in the middle of the ocean seemed like the melancholiest Greek tragedy, the love of your life floating dead beside you as you welcomed death yourself. 

The lifeboat passed a couple hundred feet away from you. Something clicked automatically and you snapped your eyes open. “Come back.”

Your voice was so quiet they would never be able to hear you. You squeezed Steve’s hands and yelled again. “Come back! Come back! Come back!”

No matter how hard you tried, your screams could not be heard. You turned back to Steve, studying his beautiful face for the last time before you yanked your hands away from his. The ice that formed cracked, tearing skin from your palms. You kissed his knuckles.

“I’ll never let go. I promise,” you declared, releasing his hands from yours and lowering him into the water. You watched Steve’s body sink until the light of the stars was no longer helpful. You cherished the last glance of his face, wailing out before you threw yourself into the water. You swam to a dead officer, reaching for the whistle hanging from his mouth. You placed it in yours, blowing into it with all your strength.

The whistle blew loudly, its wails drowning out your own. A flashlight was turned to you and you blew the whistle until they grabbed your trembling body from the water. 

The officers from the Carpathia struggled to drag your body on board, wrapping blankets over you and handing you cups of hot chocolate. Your blank stare was etched into your face. They had to tear open your hands to place the steaming cup in your palms but they were understanding. They assumed you were reliving the sinking. No, you were reliving the happy times and how they were suddenly and greedily torn from you. 

You sat silently in the third-class area in order to avoid your mother and Loki, if he had survived. Your smidge of luck returned as you locked eyes with none other than Wanda. She inched toward you cautiously, her eyes as dead as yours. With every step, she was practically asking you if they had made it. When she stopped in front of you, the somber and heartbroken look in your eyes told her that her hopes weren’t going to come true. She nodded, sitting down beside you and taking your hand in hers. While you stared at the fatherless children, Wanda cried into your shoulder. 

April 16th, 1912 

You hadn’t left Wanda’s side or she yours, the two of you looking up from deck as you passed the Statue of Liberty. Rain poured down harder that night than it did any other night of that month, drenching the two of you. 

Once docked, the two of you walked all the way to Brooklyn, still not saying one word to each other. The walk was long and stressful, but it was a relief. As morning came, the two of you glanced away quickly from the boys who waved the newspaper headlines, “1,500 to 1,800 dead on Titanic’s maiden voyage!”  

Wanda stopped and shuttered, her sobs rattling her body. She had finally broke and you joined her. The two of you sat in the slums of Brooklyn, hugging and holding each other. As time passed, you relaxed and shoved your hands in your pockets, frowning when you felt something touch your shaking fingers. You slowly pulled out Loki’s necklace, the shiny diamond gracing the dirty streets. Wanda gasped, staring at the god forsaken piece of jewelry. You turned to her and asked her what you should do with it. You were positive she would tell you to sell it or to keep it until you both desperately needed it. But instead, she whispered a quiet ‘no’ to you and shook her head. 

Understanding what she meant, you clutched the necklace in your palm and helped her stand up. Breathing out slowly, you continued to walk down the street and imagined Steve and Bucky laughing or chatting right beside you. You bit your lip, swallowing your tears and turning to Wanda. She gave you a small smile.

Rounding a corner, you saw a street artist sit patiently for his next customer. You grinned and dropped the necklace into his bin, grasping Wanda’s hand in yours as you walked away, unknowingly passing one of the many back alleys Steve had once gotten his ass kicked in. 

THE END.

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[guns-and-angelblades]

The One of 23

Written for @kittenofdoomage and @saxxxology SPN History Challenge

Era: Ancient Roman Empire

Pairing: Sam x Nephilim!Reader

Warnings: a bit smut, fighting, mentioning of blood and injuries 

Words: 2.168

Summary: A hunt in St. Louis lead you to a sinister shadow demon. Dean was fatally injured at the final showdown. There was no way out for you since the only weapon to kill the demon was destroyed ages ago, leaving you no choice but to take a look at the past. 

Author’s Note: I’d like to point out that I am not a native English speaker, so I apologize if you notice any heavy grammatical errors. Fell free to inform or correct me about those mistakes. I study English in Germany and think it would be a great opportunity to learn more about the language and how to perfectly use it in fictional writing.And second of all, this is my first one shot. Feedback is really appreciated but please be constructive. Describing feelings, the characters and the setting would be easier with a wider vocabulary range. If you have any tips, let me know so I can practice and maybe one day present you much better stories. So I’m sorry if this one shot is too rushed or if you don’t get enough inside of the characters or the setting. Anyway, enjoy! :) 

The heat was almost unbearable. It’s been two days since you and Sam landed somewhere deep in Egypt’s deserts. All you could remember was that it all had started with a case in St. Louis. You were looking for a murderous shadow demon, ending in Dean being fatally injured by it. Since your previous research you knew that the only weapon, which can defeat the demon, had been destroyed ages ago in the ancient Roman Empire. The only way to save Dean would be to prevent the weapon from being destroyed.

Even though your powers were strong enough to perform a time travelling spell you could feel a constant weakening force straining your body. Somehow you managed to pull through and tried to fit into this period of time. You got some silk robes and joined a few travelers who were on their way to Rome.

You stopped at a small oasis a few minutes ago. Sam needed some refreshment so as soon as your group stopped he disappeared into the depths of the oasis. You sat on the warm sand, feet buried ankle-deep and watched Sam cooling himself in the water. His wet firm chest glistened in the sun distracting you a little from the stress you’ve been dealing with for a little while now.

“You wanna come in now or are you just going to continue staring at me?” Sam winked at you gesturing you to follow him into the water. A small smile escaped your lips while you lifted yourself up to join Sam in the water.

“We shouldn’t stay much longer, we’re in a hurry.” You said as Sam reached for your hand. He dragged you deeper into the water watching every bit of your moves. Your robe was soaked in water making the soft fabric expose your chest. Sam licked his lips moving his hands up your torso until he cupped one of your breasts stroking it lightly. He moved his lips to your neck biting the soft skin and leaving a small mark there. His hand moved lower between your legs, making you squirm in pleasure. You knew exactly at this point when you don’t interrupt, there will be no going back. So as much as you wanted this, you couldn’t stop thinking about the mission that lead you to this time and place. A soft moan escaped your lips as you tried to speak.

“We-we shouldn’t do this right now. We need to be in Rome in just a few days. We’re going to reach the Mediterranean Sea in about three hours. We could enjoy our time on the ship but right now, we need to be as fast as we can and-” Sam planted a small kiss to interrupt you from talking. You could see the disappointment in his eyes but he nodded agreeing with every word of yours.

“You’re right, it’s our only chance. I assumed you needed a little break. Since that spell you seem a little off, you know?”

“Everything’s fine.” you shrugged it off and got out of the lake. You had some spare robes to quickly change into something dry. As soon as everything was set, you went to the coast to take your route to Rome.

******************************************************************

Even though you and Sam had some relaxing nights on the boat you kept yourself quiet throughout the trip. You needed your time to collect your strength, since a hell of a fight was about to come. Because of that you didn’t explain much about your mission and where you were heading.

Soon after reaching the Italian coast a carriage took you to the pulsing streets of Rome. It was a very important day for the two of you. The streets were full of people and sells-men making it hard for you to reach the Theatre of Pompey. Sam only needed a few moments to realize where you were heading.

“Sam, we need to talk.” You said quietly.

“It’s about time. Thought you wouldn’t talk so soon.” he replied quite pissed.

You weren’t the best company for the last few days and shutting out the only person beside you wasn’t much helping.

“I know I kept many things from you but I think I can open up now, clear things out. You were right. I am a Nephilim and I’m bound to this human part of mine, which is why I was so weakened after the spell. It kind of made me think about a lot of things. What if one day I won’t be able to help you out because of me overestimating my powers? What if I am not strong enough to pull us out of here? I wouldn’t want something like this to happen to us.”

“Y/N, you could’ve told me. We’ve worked through a lot of things and I believe in you. You helped us so much and grew to be such a strong woman. I love that about you. I love that you’re talking to me about everything but you just need to tell us when you’re feeling like you won’t able to do certain things. I’m sure Dean will understand too.” he comforted you, putting his hand on your thigh, stroking it softly. He kissed your forehead before he began speaking again. “So, what’s up for now on a special day like this? March 15th 44 years before Christ? Surely not a coincidence.” he smiled, his eyes lightening up a little.

“True. You probably know where we’re going as well. The dagger belongs to one of the perpetrators who assassinated Gaius Julius Caesar. The one of 23.”

Sam’s eyes widened at the sudden realization. “So you assume that the blade was destroyed at the assassination? Are you suggesting we get the dagger before it gets sliced through the almighty historical leader of the Ancient Roman Empire, Caesar?”

“That’s the point, Sam. We’re going to witness one of the biggest historical events that ever happened. You remember what happened when Castiel prevented the Titanic from sinking? I believe one dagger less would have as much consequences as this. Furthermore the blade needs to be drenched in the blood of an emperor.” Sam gave you a confused look, not able to produce any words. “The only thing we can do is sit through this, and when the time’s right, snatch the blade and hide it somewhere safe. Killing the demon here and now would cause time problems as well.”

“I can’t believe it.” Sam smiled. As shocking as this kind of plan sounded you had no other choice than to watch through the whole assassination, and prevent a huge chaos from being made.

******************************************************************

The theatre was already surrounded by a mass of people and guards when you arrived at the scene. You made your way through the crowd, trying to find an entrance you could use unsuspiciously. There was a way on the right side of the building. Carefully you made your way through the guards and entered the theatre without any more problems. A few steps through the magnificent hallways lead you to a huge hall where Caesar was seated in the middle of it. You could already hear the raised voices of the Roman senators. On the far left of the group you saw a man holding onto the dagger tightly.

“See this man? This is our dagger?” Sam pointed to him. You nodded but suddenly you saw the man’s eyes widening in shock. He was directly staring at you or more likely at the monstrous demon that suddenly appeared behind you. The senator raised his dagger and ran towards Caesar, sinking the blade deep in the emperors chest. Silence was filling the room for a split second although it felt like an eternity. Then screams echoed through the hall, leaving nothing but panic in there. Some tried to flee from the scenario while the rest of the 22 senators sliced through the body of Julius Caesar like a hot knife through butter. He fell to the ground, blood oozing out of the deep cuts. The demon shoved you aside,rapidly moving to the group of senators which were staring at Caesar’s limp body. It grabbed the senator, who carried the only weapon; able to destroy the monster, by the throat. Guards were already taking care of some of the perpetrators, killing or wounding them badly during their massive fight. You and Sam got up, snatching two swords from the guards to defend the man from being hurt by the shadow creature. You were able to get its attention and lead it away from Sam and the unknown man. While fighting off the demon you signed Sam to steal the dagger and hide it somewhere safe. He ran towards the man, pushing him roughly to the ground. When he was able to get a grip of the weapon, he didn’t hesitate much longer and fled somewhere to hide and prevent it from being destroyed.

Meanwhile you fought against the dark and strong creature. Since you were still weakened by the spell the demon gained more advantage, hurting you badly with it’s sharp claws. He hit your arm and scratched deeply through your abdomen. You being distracted by the pain he threw you to the ground, hovering above you to end you with one final strike. When you thought you had not much of a chance, you gathered your last bit of strength and shoved your sword through the demons corpse. That’s when you realized that the senator started chanting a Latin spell to weaken and seal the demon away. You knew, that one day the creature would find its way back to your world but right now it was the only chance to get you out of this misery without having a massive impact on the timeline. A loud growl escaped the demons snout while he pulled the sword out of his deformed corpse. That’s when you saw its dark red sinister eyes but it chose ignore you. Suddenly it spun around, moving towards the man and shoving the sword in his stomach. The man’s eyes widened in fear, blood spilling out of his mouth but still he managed to finish the spell with the last bit of his breath. Dark clouds started forming and surrounding the demon which finally sucked him into the pits of nothingness. One loud screech was the only thing you heard until you sunk to the ground, losing your consciousness for a while.

******************************************************************

Your vision was blurry when you woke up to Sam hovering above you.

“Y/N, you okay?” you had enough vision to realize his worried expression.

“I’m okay, I guess. I’m healing up.” You looked down on your abdomen, realizing that the cuts weren’t as deep as before. “We need to leave. NOW!” you shouted. Sam held you as you tried to stand on both of your legs. “Where did you hide the dagger?”

“I-I hid it in the building behind the theatre. It’s small and damaged. The first room, there’s a loose floor board. I hid it underneath.” Sam stuttered.

You gained confidence when you realized that only one task was keeping you from saving Dean. Return to your time and kill the demon. You focused your powers and this time you knew that you had to be strong and fight the darkness inside yourself. You closed your eyes and felt the energy rushing through your body. Every bit of it was electrifying and the first time you felt like you had control over it. But then distant shouts distracted you, thinking you lost control until you realized which voice the shouting belonged to.

“Why the fuck are you standing there, doing nothing? Move your asses and help me!” Dean shouted while fighting of the shadow demon. He shot it a few times with rock salt until he was out of ammo. You opened your eyes and were back in time.

Sam moved as fast as he could to support Dean against the creature while you pulled your last strength together to find the dagger. Like Sam described, the dagger was underneath the floor board. You lifted it up and there it was, the weapon to destroy the shadow demon.

You ported back right in time to see the monster striking one final time, the final hit that would kill Dean. He lied on the ground in shock, waiting for his end to come while Sam was unconscious on the floor. Since there was no time you threw the dagger at the demon, landing straight in his chest. A loud screech escaped the demon as it exploded into black sand. Dean exhaled and groaned in pain.

“Took you long enough, kiddo”

“Shut up! If it weren’t for us, you would be dead.” you said, chuckling a little.

“Yeah, I see. Fix up Sammy and then you gotta explain why you’re wearing my grandmas bedsheets.” he joked while looking at your bloody robe.

You smiled, flipping him off and moved to Sam to fix him up.