#and on the inside he’s just in a constant fetal position rocking back and forth | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mara-xx217 · 3 years

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The Monsters' Favorite (18): Make Up [can read here on AO3 or under the cut!]

Pairings: Frank Morrison/Reader

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Toxic Behavior/Relationship, Obsessive Behavior, Open Palm Slap, Mental Breakdown, Make Up Sex, Piercings

You hurt him. Hurt them. And he’s beyond pissed about it. You should apologize…

Inside the lodge of Mount Ormond, partially sheltered from the wind, you hid behind the bar, afraid of the wrath of the Legion. You escaped them once, and now that you're back in a trial with them, you fear what they might do to you. You’ve been useless all trial, and you don’t think you can pluck up the courage to go looking for another survivor. All you can do is curl up in the fetal position, trembling like the coward you are. It’s only a matter of time before I’m found…

Survivors were hooked, and you were petrified in fear. No thanks to you, they were eventually rescued, but time was running out. You have to make a move. The gens weren’t getting done fast enough and most survivors had been hooked at least once… You rock back and forth, trying your damnedest to summon all your courage and actually do something. Crawling out from behind the bar, you scan your surroundings. Okay… It’s probably fine…

You carefully make your way to the gen that’s always located in the lodge. No one’s touched it. Unfortunate, but unsurprising. You slowly work on it, being extra mindful of any possible skill checks so that you won’t gain any unwanted attention. About half way through, someone is hooked near the lodge, the high pitched scream carried further thanks to the near constant wind. You screw your eyes shut, banging your forehead against the vibrating piece of machinery. God fucking damn it… Oh you can’t do this. You fucking can’t-

You let go of the gen, cursing yourself, the Entity, the Legion, and whoever was hooked. Damn them all to hell… You jog towards the entrance, anxiety gnawing a hole in your gut. Just get them and go. Get them and go. Get them an- ?!

You're grabbed as you pass a pallet, a bandaged hand covers your mouth and a knife is pressed into your lower abdomen. You panic, gripping the hand covering your mouth, while the other goes for the one holding the knife. This person’s a bit taller than you, and they grunt lowly, hauling you back into the lodge. When you’re suddenly dragged towards the stairs, you cry out, tears pricking your eyes. You try to bite the hand covering your mouth, but they jab the knife against your skin, blood trickling from the stab wound. You’re forced into the little closed off area upstairs, and roughly shoved onto a single, dirty mattress that’s littering the floor alongside other miscellaneous junk.

You curl in on yourself, trying to protect yourself from any incoming blows. A fistful of your hair is grabbed, jerking your head back. While you try to pry their fingers off, your legs are straddled, pinning you to the mattress. A cold blade is pressed to your throat, ending your pointless struggle. The killer pants, struggling to catch their breath. You refuse to look at them. You don’t want to know who it is…

“P-Please… I… I-I’m sor-“

“Shut the FUCK UP!”

You cringe away. That voice… It's him.

“Don’t you, you fucking say ‘you’re sorry’! You… do you fucking realize what you’ve done ..?!” Frank’s voice cracks, his body trembling in rage. You whimper, screwing your eyes shut. He yanks your head side to side, causing you to cry out in pain.

“You- fuck! We… How could you ju-just f-fucking… do that to us?!” The hand that held the blade to your throat shakes violently, and you think that this is it. You’re gonna die here, throat slit in the cold, abandoned lodge. He pulls once more, much harder this time. You cry out, tears streaming down your face.

“ WELL?! D-Do you have any- fucking -thing to say?! HELLO?! ARE YOU FUCKING LISTENING TO ME?!” You shrink away, squealing in fear. What… How were you supposed to answer him? Of course you ran away! You don’t want anything to do with them! They’re killers! Not to mention, some of them are fucking underage. Why the hell would you want anything to do with them?! Just because they’re all fucked up from the Entity, doesn’t mean that you have to deal with it! Even though they all clearly have some care for you, as fucked as they are. And… being held like that was… nice…

“I-I-I d-don- I’m s-s-sor-ry-y… I’m sorry..! I’m sorry..! S-So-orry-y… I-I- …!”

SMACK!

You stop your blubbering, stunned. Your cheek stung from the opened palm slap you received. You blink dumbly, then turn your gaze towards the masked man straddling your lap. Even he seems surprised, hand still raised in the air, frozen in… what? Shock? Something else..? The knife is lowered from your throat, his arm going limp and laying to the side of your head. The two of you stare in silence, your tears stopped by the sobering strike you just received. Frank’s face was still covered by his mask, and his body language didn’t betray much of what he was thinking. He was stiff. Silent. Staring. Or, perhaps that’s just your imagination…

Frank’s neck suddenly cranes down, getting a better look at your face. You jump, startled and scared that he might hit you again. To your surprise, he releases his knife and rips his mask off, giving you the first proper look you’ve ever gotten of the young man.

He… Is… Frank is crying..? You’re… taken aback. A killer is crying. In front of you. After he hit you. But… No, surely this is a misunderstanding. Then again, he won’t look you in the eye. At all. In fact, he’s barely looking you in the face at all. Head hung, he picks at the sleeve of his letterman jacket. He… looks… The two of you sit in tense silence, neither daring to move, let alone speak.

After far too long, he raises a hand. You involuntarily cringe away. He hesitates, but continues to slowly, carefully, gently bring his hand to your sore cheek, caressing it with trembling fingertips. Frank sniffles before a broken sob escapes his lips. You’re… at a loss for words. He’s… actually upset over hitting me..? Brows knitting together, you contemplate what this could mean. Wait. They… those teens… are they..? Do they..? Did they actually fall in love with me..? No. That’s- It can’t- I’m looking at this-

“I-I’m…”

Frank buried his face into the crook of your neck, shuddering sobs wracking his body. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you flushed against his chest in a tight hug. You felt… something, deep in your chest. In your gut. It… This… You can’t stop yourself. You wrap your own arms around his lower back, squeezing him. He stiffens, unsure, but ends up almost laying on top of you, nuzzling into your neck, tears soaking into your skin. Why are you doing this..? You should hate him. You do hate him..! Then why..? Why does it fucking hurt to see him like this..?

You sniffle, struggling to hold back your own emotions. In the end, you crack, weeping into his shoulder. You ball up the fabric of his jacket into your clenched fists and just cry. You both do, for Entity knows how long. Until you have a splitting headache and your eyes and throat are sore, and it feels like you have no more tears left to shed. One of Frank’s hands drifted to the back of your head, massaging your sensitive scalp, while the other rubbed and traced nonsensical patterns into your arm. Your heart hurts…

“F-Frank… I-“

Before you can speak, his lips crash against yours, rough, chapped, needy… It takes you by surprise, but… You don’t mind it. In fact, you kiss him back , moving your lips against his. He sighs, moving so that he’s now kneeling in between your legs, which you quickly wrap around his waist, pulling him closer. Fingers card through your hair, occasionally catching and tugging on a stubborn knot before it’s gently pulled out. You loop your arms around his neck, deepening the kiss.

A tongue flicks across your lips, prodding, asking for permission. You part your mouth open, letting him take the lead. You’re surprised when you feel something hard scrape by your tongue. Oh! He has a tongue piercing..? You certainly can’t complain, not to mention the fact that he’s a pretty damn good kisser. Between your legs, you felt his arousal steadily grow. You refused to acknowledge yours, though…

Sloppy kisses trail down to your neck as one of his hands begins to move southward, towards the waistband of your shorts. You were aching to be filled. Even though you know you don’t want it, your body is already so hot and willing and desperate for his cock… You moan as his fingers ghost down your navel, slipping past your shorts and underwear. You’re already so wet…

Frank groans into your shoulder, teeth grazing your overly sensitive flesh. You arch your back, wanting- no, needing more contact. Just- more! More of him..! Oh, Entity..! You need him inside you..! He easily slips two fingers into your wet folds knuckle deep. You have to put a hand over your mouth to quiet the wanton moan that rises from your chest. The last thing you need is someone interrupting the two of you…

Obscene noises filled the tiny room. Your pussy squelched with each thrust of his fingers. Frank’s fingers scissors in and out of you, stretching you at odd angles and making you squirm. You’re already on the edge of an orgasm. You grip onto the back of his jacket and throw your head back, moans and groans muffled by your hand.

“F-Fuck… You’re so fucking wet and tight…” He moans into your ear, tongue flicking out to caress the shell of your ear. You writhe in pleasure, so close to cumming… You just need a little more…

“Mmhmm… F-Frank..! I-I’m so fuckin- NGHHH !! P-Please..! M-More! Ha-arder! Aaahhh… !~ Oh, yeeesss! Right there..! Right- Nhhhhggh- Don’t stop! Don’t stop- don’t- Haaaahhh~ Ahhh! I’m c-cu-~!” Your eyes flutter shut and your entire body stiffens as you cum, wetness trickling from around his fingers, soaking both his hands and your clothing. Frank picks up his pace, finger fucking you faster and faster, all while rubbing your clit juuust right so that your climax is all the more intense - “MMMPHHH!? NNNGHH!! HHHNNM-!!~” You bite into your hand to prevent yourself from screaming out. He latched onto your neck with his mouth, nipping and sucking at a spot that makes chills wrack your body and your pussy tighten even more.

It was a damn good orgasm. It left you trembling and seeing stars, completely winded and disoriented. Fuck, it’s not enough… If he doesn’t fuck you in the next thirty seconds, you’re gonna go insane. Frank pants into your ear, nuzzling into you. He removes his fingers from inside you with a wet squelch. He starts to say something, but you fumbling with his belt catches him by surprise.

“Heh, c-can’t wait any longer, eh? Good. Neither can I.”

You free his cock from his pants and give it a few strokes. Woah! He has piercings here, too?! You wiggled your hips in anticipation, and he chuckled breathlessly before groaning, hips bucking into your clenched fist. He helped you wiggle out of your shorts, but left your underwear on. Frank rubbed harsh circles into your clit, kissing you and delving his tongue into your mouth. You moan, picking up the speed of your wrist. Fuck… Oh fuck… I can’t- I can’t wait any longer..!

You lead him by his cock to your partially clothed entrance, using your legs around his waist to pull him closer all while not breaking your kiss with him. Frank wordlessly moves your panties out of the way, giving you just enough room to guide his head to your slick hole. He slowly thrusts in, relishing just how tight and warm and fucking wet you were for him. You mewl into his mouth, back arching dramatically. When he finally bottoms out, he breaks the kiss to look you in the face as he fucks you hard and fast into that filthy mattress.

You gasp, wrapping your arms around his neck. One of his hands goes to the back of your head, cradling you gently while the other goes to your hip to keep you steady. His cock drags deliciously against your insides, the piercings only adding to that factor. You moan his name softly, biting your lip to keep from being too loud. Frank sits up, taking the hand holding your head and instead grabs your clothes breast with it. You throw your head to the side, toes curling every time his cock drags against your sweet spot. Your shirt and bra are lifted up just enough to expose your breast to the chilly air. When he takes one of your hardened buds into his warm mouth, you almost scream. It’s becoming too much..! Oh, shit! I’m gonna cum again..! I’m gonna cum..!

You gush around his cock, walls tightening and sucking him in even deeper . He groans, hand drifting down to rub you as you continue to dribble around his member, legs trembling and back arched. You whine his name, saliva dripping from the corner of your mouth. You feel so good…

“F-Fuck baby… You feel so damn good…”

You squeeze his cock tighter, loving how he throws his head back and groans.

“ Haa… O-Oh shit..! Fuck… I- Fuck I’m gonna..!”

“Ngghh-! D-Don’t hold back! Fuckin- Give it to me..!~ Cum inside my pussy baby!~”

Frank moans, then throws your legs over his shoulders, pounding into you faster. The sound of wet, slapping skin echoes in the room. You see stars every time he bottoms out inside you, your toes curling into the fabric of his jacket. He begins to babble, pressing clumsy, sloppy kisses against your lips all the while.

“Oh fuck baby..! I- shit- I’m so fucking sorry- fuck! I didn’t- NGGHH-! FUCK! I fuckin- We love you so damn much! P-Please baby- Baby don’t fucking leave us l-like- HNNN- like that a-again!” Frank kisses you every other word, grabbing at you and holding you close. Something deep inside you stirs, and, even though you know that this is beyond fucked up, you can’t help yourself…

“F-Frank..! I- oh fuck! I’m s-so s-sorry! I fucked u-up..! I’ll n-never leave you g-guys ever again..! I fucking love you too..! I’m sorry- I’m- I’m s-sorry- Oh! Fuck! Frank..! F-Fra- AHHH~!”

You’re unable to control your voice as he cums inside you, crying out as he buries his face into your chest. You held him tightly, cumming as soon as you felt his hot seed spill inside of you. You whimper as your pussy milked his cock, it throbbed deep inside you, making your climax all the more pleasurable. It takes a while for the two of you to come down from your highs. Frank raised his head, looking at your flushed and far away looking gaze. His lips smashed against yours, and the two of you kissed passionately for a moment, him still sheathed inside you. You break away, breathless. He reluctantly pulls his semi flaccid cock from your leaking pussy, tucking himself back inside his pants. He caressed your swollen cheek, mixed emotions crossing his features.

“Y-Y/N… I’m…-“ You shush him with a chaste kiss to the lips.

“I-It’s okay… I’m s-sorry too…” You whispered softly, rubbing the back of his neck with your fingers. He sighs, closing his eyes.

“Y-You… good..?” He asks, hand wandering your body. You shiver under his touch.

“Mmm… Yeah… y-you gotta go…” You muttered, gently pushing him away. He hesitates, then goes to stand.

“Yeah…” He picks up his mask and knife, watching you get redressed in the corner of his eye. He noticed that you didn’t attempt to remove his cum from inside you. His cock twitches in interest. As you go to stand, you're grabbed and spun around, kissed roughly as you're pushed against the wall. It takes your breath away, and when Frank pulls away, you actually swoon.

“ I love you , Y/N…” he whispers as he caresses your cheek. You blush.

“I l-love you too, Frank…” Your stomach knots up and bile rises to the back of your throat. It doesn’t stop you from feeling weak at how he’s looking at you like he actually means it.

Frank places his mask back on and heads down stairs, turning to take one last look at you before going on the hunt again. Your pussy aches. You're still horny… God, what the fuck is wrong with me…

#dead by daylight #dbd #dbd the legion #dbd frank morrison #dbd the legion x reader #the monsters' favorite

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jaeminlore · 7 years

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Ribbons // Ji Hansol

the prompt: you hoped for a new life in france, but with no money, you stowed away in the closest freighter you could find. only, it wasn’t a freighter, it was a pirate ship.

words: 6514

category: pirate!au, fluff

author note: ayy thanks to marissa for the idea of pirate!hansol bc this came out of it :) as always i miss ji hansol and wish him all the love. also i need to stop writing novels and just write cute romance like wow destinee half of this is just worldbuilding.

Thinking back, jumping into the first barrel you could find was likely not the best decision. How were you to know that there would be water filling up half of it? How were you to know that the water would be freezing cold and simultaneously smell like rotten fish?

When you planned to run away, you had no idea it would turn out like this. Your plan was to hide in a simple freighter, amongst the boxes of exports being sent to Europe. You planned to start a new life, far away from the constant danger surrounding your small village. The port side town was fueled by fear of pirates. No one was safe, and everyone was willing to give up everything if a pirate asked them to. It was horrible.

You didn’t want to live in fear. You were just as bad as everyone else in that town: cowering in fear if a pirate spoke to you. You worked at your family’s inn, and if a pirate asked for a free room, you gave it to him. If the pirates said jump, the villagers asked how high. There was no thought of ever defying them. There was no though of fighting back.

You weren’t sure you had the courage to fight back. Pirates were mean and brutal men who loved taking people for slaves and ransom. If you tried to fight back, and lost, it was likely you would never see freedom again. So, after many anxious nights of wondering if you should just do it, you finally did. You ran away.

It was just your luck that you accidentally stowed away in a pirate ship. The ship began to move at dawn, and that’s when you realized something was wrong. Men were shouting above you in a mixture of languages and tones. They were speaking like sailors, with tongues of fire and crude insults. As you looked around the small hold you had holed up in, it dawned on you that a freighter should have more crates in it. Where you were, there were only a few barrels. The rest of the room was set up like a pantry, with shelves of fruit, herbs, and dried meat. Not many freighters would have those in their hold. A pirate’s ship, however, would.

As the ship was already moving, you had no option but to hide and hope they docked somewhere soon, where you could sneak out and find help. That plan seemingly the only option in your head, you shoved your carpetbag (filled with simple things like a notebook and some underwear) under a shelf, behind many flasks and bottles. Then, assuming the barrel was empty, you opened the top and climbed inside.

You had not anticipated the cold water at the bottom, nor the horrid smell. If you bothered to check the barrels, you would’ve found a better barrel to hide in.

“Hansol said that we have oranges but I can’t find them.”

“Seriously, Jaemin? Did you even look hard enough?”

At the sound of voices, you ducked into the barrel with a soft splash, and replaced the lid as accurately as you could without proper lighting or any real knowledge of how to properly lid a barrel. Through a slit in the barrel, you watched as two boys surprisingly close to your age walked in.

It wasn’t long before they disappeared again, having found the oranges they had been searching for. You refused to move, afraid that you might splash too loudly, or worse, knock over the whole barrel and be attacked by swords. So, curled up in the most uncomfortable fetal position, you closed your eyes and struggled to fall asleep.

They would stop somewhere in the morning, right?

The boat rocked back and forth through the night, and Hansol had a hard time keeping his crew’s heads on straight. The storm had come out of nowhere, and of course there was a leak on deck.

Hansol tied his hair back with a bandana and grabbed a hammer. “Check the rest of the deck for more leaks!” he yelled, unable to be heard above the roar of the rain.

His crew obeyed without a word of protest, as they always did. He was lucky to have a loyal crew that didn’t cry mutiny every time something went wrong. Truthfully, they were his best friends and only family. He couldn’t say he’d know what to do without them.

Ten stood behind the ship’s wheel, holding the entire ship steady against the torrents. He watched each member of the crew from there, his dark eyes trained as if for war. In storms like these, the winds and rain could sweep you right into the sea of you weren’t steady, so it was vital that the crew looked out for each other.

Yukhei stood tall in the crow’s nest, a sextant by his feet and a looking glass in his hands. He was in charge of making sure Ten was on the right track. He was also in charge of warning the crew of any dangers such as other storms, mermaids, or other pirates.

Kun was the cook, and one of the most trusted members of the crew. Every day he kept the stock and the rations, making sure that no food went missing, and that everyone had enough to eat. He knew how to time trips, so that they would never starve before reaching their next destination. He also practiced navigation, and helped make sure Ten knew where to steer the boat.

Jungwoo manned the canons and the guns whenever a fight arose, but mostly he kept the ship clean and repaired whenever it needed it. Unfortunately, the ship was getting old, and the wood and tin wasn’t all that they were when Hansol first stole his precious ship.

Jaemin was the youngest, but he had been on the crew almost as long as Hansol and Ten. He practiced medicine, and always took care of the other members if they got sick. For the most part, however, he was loud and playful, always skipping out on his responsibilities to play. He had a lot to learn, but Hansol could remember a time when he too had been to excited to simply pull in an anchor or man the sails. Jaemin would learn in time.

Hansol himself was the captain, though he didn’t find himself necessarily fond of the term when it first appeared out of Ten’s mouth. He didn’t want to be the one in control. He didn’t want his future crew to be afraid. After admitting his hesitation to his crew, they assured him that Hansol wasn’t like other pirates. They reminded him that while they looked for lost treasure and stole from time to time, they never took another man’s life if they could spare it. It was Kun who convinced Hansol to take the position as Captain. Soon, Hansol realized that “captain” was simply a synonym for “leader”, and he had nothing to worry about.

“Clear skies ahead! Ten, turn east!” Yukhei suddenly yelled, his deep voice somewhat startling to the focused Hansol.

“I can’t turn it!” Ten yelled back, his voice cracking against the salty air. “I need help!”

Warm rain trailing down his face, Hansol ran over to Ten and grabbed the wheel as well. Perhaps with the power of two men, it could be turned. After much groaning and toil, they succeeded in turning the ship’s course for the calmer waters, where they could perhaps anchor for the night and get some rest.

It took hours before the ship finally escaped the storm. The whole time, the entire crew had struggled to hold on against the winds. They took turns in threes, going below deck to sit at the oars and try to propel the ship further. When it was all said and done, the six boys were tired and worn. Soaked to the bone, everyone took off their clothes as quickly as they could and replaced them with warm nightshirts and wool blankets stolen from the last inn they had visited.

Everyone was tired, but no one wanted to sleep. It was like that after battle. No matter the enemy, whether man or storm, there was always that fear inside the heart of the victor. The fear that the battle might not be over, and that the second act was just shy of beginning. So, under the stars, they began to talk, as people do when they are afraid or nervous.

“Doesn’t it feel strange on the ship?” Jaemin asked, picking at a loose seam in his sleeve. He was leaning against Ten’s side for comfort. “Like, do you think we have a ghost?”

Yukhei’s eyes widened. “I did feel a presence below deck. Perhaps one of the items we took last week was cursed.”

Hansol chuckled. The younger ones always wanted to bring up curses and legends of old, but the more experienced side of the crew knew that curses just weren’t as common as the stories always said. “I highly doubt that. We spent all last week at your mother’s trade shop, remember?”

“Oh yeah,” Yukhei bit his lip, “but you know, my mom definitely could’ve cursed us.”

“Why would your mom curse her own son?” Ten asked.

Yukhei shrugged. “I don’t know. She might’ve been mad that I didn’t do my laundry, or perhaps she just wanted our trip to be unforgettable.

Hansol snorted. "I’m sure this trip will be just as forgettable as the last. It’s amazing how much of our touch we seemed to have lost when it comes to treasure hunting.”

Kun smirked, “Well you’re the captain, aren’t you? Start leading us properly and we’ll find treasure.”

Hansol shoved the younger boy playfully. At that moment, Jaemin’s stomach growled.

Jungwoo sighed. “You know, I’m pretty hungry too. We haven’t eaten since lunch, and we missed dinner because of the storm.”

Hansol looked at Kun, “What’s on the menu?”

“Well, I believe there is still some haddock left in one of those barrels. Which reminds me, we need to go fishing as soon as we can.”

“Alright. So everyone save Ten and Yukhei will be on fishing duty,” Hansol decided.

“Great,” Ten said. “Then Yukhei and I will go get the fish. Can we grab some oranges too?”

“Go ahead,” Hansol answered nonchalantly. “We brought too much anyway.”

The two disappeared below deck, and the remaining four sat in silence, each now aware of how hungry fighting the storm had made them. Hansol lay on his back, his gaze tracing the stars as they began to appear. He found the North Star easily, as all sailors had been taught. He pointed it out to Jaemin, and was about to speak when a loud shout interrupted him.

It came from below, and Hansol shot up as soon as he recognized it as Yukhei’s voice. “Stay here,” he commanded the others, afraid that someone dangerous might’ve stowed away and tried to hurt his crew members. The more he thought about it, the more it terrified him. “In fact, go hide in the captain’s quarters until I say it’s okay to come out. Jungwoo, take out your gun. Don’t be afraid to shoot if someone tries to hurt you.”

“Got it, Cap.” Jungwoo said, allowing himself to be steered away along with Jaemin. Kun had a grip on both of them, and he definitely wasn’t going to let them out of his sight.

Hansol cocked the gunning his hand, and with his finger on the trigger, he ran downstairs to find Yukhei and Ten seemingly unharmed. “What happened?”

“There’s a girl in the barrel!” Ten answered in exasperation.

Hansol peered into the barrel, unsure of what he was going to see. He definitely didn’t expect to see you, cold and shivering, staring back at him with fear evident in your eyes. “Please…” you spoke, and your voice was cracked from lack of use. “Please don’t kill me.”

Hansol felt his heart break slightly. “We don’t want to kill you,” he said in the softest voice he could muster. “Here… let me help you out.”

Perhaps his change in tone had worked, for you lifted your arms weakly and allowed him to pull you out of the barrel. “I can’t feel my leg,” you whispered.

“That’s alright,” Hansol answered, pulling you out and setting you on your feet. You leaned into his side. “The feeling will return soon enough. Right now, we need to get you warmed up. How long have you been in that barrel?”

“Since the ship set out,” you answered meekly. “I… I thought it was a freighter.”

“That’s been almost two days…” Hansol frowned. “Wait. My ship looks like a freighter? I thought it looked menacing.”

“It was dark,” you said. “I couldn’t tell which ship was which.”

This thought settled Hansol, and he faced Ten and Yukhei, who were still there, recovering from shock. “Go inform everyone that we have company. Tell Kun to heat up some water. Tell Jaemin to get his extra nightshirt, and then we can have dinner.”

Your eyebrows rose, and you scurried away from Hansol, running into one of the shelves behind you. A few oranges fell off of the shelf and you hissed in pain as the splintered wood rammed into your back. Still, you wouldn’t get any closer to Hansol. “You’re going to boil and eat me for dinner? Isn’t that too cruel? Can’t I just walk the plank or something?”

Hansol paused for a moment, unsure of where you had drawn that conclusion. Finally, he let out an amused chuckle. “Heavens no, darling. The water is for a bath, and the dinner is just for the crew. We’re hungry for fish, not people.”

You nodded, but you wouldn’t come closer to Hansol.

He held his hand out for you to accept, and offered you a friendly smile. “Come on, darling, I can’t take care of you if you refuse to come near me.”

“I’m not sure I want to be taken care of,” you said. “Can’t you just drop me off whenever you dock somewhere?”

“I’m not sure it works like that,” Hansol said, “we won’t be docking for a long time. You’re welcome to stay with us until then, though.”

You stayed in your spot, rubbing your cold arms in the hopes of circulating some warmth into them. As much as you hated to admit it, the man’s torso had been like a warm furnace, and your body was already missing the heat. “I don’t trust pirates,” you spoke surely, holding your posture.

“Me neither,” he answered. Then, perhaps for your sake, the man unstrapped his sabier, along with his gun, and handed both of the weapons to you. “But you can trust me and my crew. I’m Hansol.”

You slowly walked forward, deciding you could trust him. If any pirate was willing to give up his weapons, then he must be serious. That’s what you thought anyway. “I’m Y/n. I was trying to get to France. I wanna start a new life far away from my hometown. Away from pirates and thieves,” you said the last part rather tentatively, in the hopes of not offending him.

Hansol didn’t seem surprised by your statement, and he only crossed his arms over his chest and pursed his lips in thought. “France, huh? I think that’s on our way. If you want, you can stay with us until we pass France. Then we’ll let you off. We have enough rations for you, I think.”

The thought of staying on a pirate ship any longer made you squeamish, but honestly what choice did you have? It wasn’t like you could just leave. You were in the middle of the ocean with no land in sight. “Okay. I’ll stay out of your way, I promise.”

Hansol shrugged, “Don’t worry about that. If anything, it might be nice to have a helping hand after the storm ruined a few of our sails. How did you do during the storm?”

You grimaced. “The barrel rocked a lot and all the shouting overhead scared me, but I managed to fall asleep. That other boy’s scream is what woke me up.” The two of you began to walk out of the pantry, you limping because of your poorly-circulated foot.

Hansol walked toward you awkwardly, and wrapped his arm around your waist again. “Is this okay? If I help you get up the steps?”

You nodded, accepting his warmth openly for someone who disliked pirates. For some reason, you couldn’t imagine Hansol being a pirate. You couldn’t imagine him ever hurting anyone.

When the two of you reached the top deck, the rest of the crew was already up and about, bustling around as quickly as they could. One of them, a boy close to your height, came running up with a nightshirt in his arms. “Hansol! Here’s my spare outfit. Kun said the bath is ready whenever you need it. I think he’s going to try and put dinner together.”

“Thanks, Jaemin,” Hansol answered, accepting the nightshirt.

Hansol led you into what you could only assume was the captain’s quarters, for it was furnished rather lavishly. The bed was huge, and half of it was covered with maps, pencils, compasses, and other navigation tools. “This is our map room. The bed is supposed to be for the captain but we only use it if someone is sick. The blankets are clean though!” he interjected himself, “We cleaned them when we stopped. You’re welcome to use the bed until we get to France.”

You eyed the piece of furniture. “Thanks.”

“Over here is the bath,” Hansol continued his tour, pulling you behind a dressing screen. There, what looked to be half of a barrel filled with water and… orange peels. “Kun says they make the water smell good. He also says that the acid will help clean us. I buy soap anyway because I don’t know how much I believe him. You can clean up and get dressed back here. When you’re done, we’ll be on the deck with dinner, if you would like to join us.”

“Okay. Thank you.”

“No problem,” Hansol smiled. Then, as if he had just remembered something, “Oh! And if you get seasickness, come get one of us. We’ll make you a remedy.”

You agreed, satisfying the captain enough for him to leave. When he did, you undressed and washed up, letting the freshly boiled water heat up your shivering bones.

When you were done, you dressed and crawled into the uncovered side of the bed. You buried yourself under the blankets until you could barely breathe. Ignoring your grumbling stomach, you fell asleep, desperately hoping that these pirates were good; desperately hoping that this wasn’t some trick; desperately hoping that you might come out alive and unharmed.

Hansol hadn’t really expected you to join his crew for dinner, but that didn’t stop him from hoping. Unfortunately, he had to accept reality when you didn’t come out of the room.

“What do we do with her?” Ten asked before taking a bite of the fish Kun had prepared.

Hansol pulled on his earlobe nervously. “Well… she wants to go to France, so I thought we could take her on our way to Finland.”

“Isn’t that out of the way?” Jaemin brought up, “Do we have enough rations to make it that far?”

Everyone looked at Kun, who calculated the numbers in his head before answering, “I mean as long as we stock up in France we’ll have enough food to get to Finland.”

Hansol nodded, “We have to take her with us anyway, so we might as well drop her off where she wants to go.”

“What do we do with her, though?” Ten repeated, his words emphasized as he struggled to get his point across. “I mean, do we give her a job? Or do we just leave her in the captain’s quarters and pretend she isn’t there?”

“I don’t know,” Hansol said.

Jaemin yawned from beside him. “Can’t we just ask her in the morning? She’s probably scared right now.”

“Right,” Hansol said, “So be considerate. Also, Jungwoo, no firing the canons as a surprise morning call like you sometimes do.”

“Seriously? You’re no fun,” Jungwoo rolled his eyes playfully.

Hansol smiled and ruffled his hair, “Alright. Off to bed. We’ve got a lot to do tomorrow. Mend the sails, fish, figure out our course to France…”

The crew groaned. Yukhei leaned against Ten dramatically, “Oh why must we work? What kind of a pirate’s life is this?”

Hansol shoved them both gently, “Stop complaining or I’ll make you two walk the plank.”

Yukhei snorted. “You wouldn’t make a fly walk that plank, let alone your favorite crew members.”

“Just get to bed.”

Just as they lulled you to sleep, the rocking of the waves woke you up. You turned on your back, eyes pointed towards the wooden ceiling. You weren’t quite sure what to do. Were you supposed to go out to the deck? Were you supposed to stay here until someone came and got you?

Your thoughts were interrupted by the door to your quarters opening slightly. A head poked through. “Oh. I didn’t know you were awake. I’m Kun,” the man said, his eyes kind. “I wasn’t going to bother you but we’re having a hard time finding our coordinates after the storm. It doesn’t help that the sky is covered in clouds. I’ll grab some maps and get out of your way.”

“I can help you,” you offered shyly. “My father was a cartographer, so I learned a lot about navigation from him.”

Kun broke into a soft smile. “Great! The other boys aren’t up yet, except Yukhei, so I’d be nice to have some help.”

“What does Yukhei do?”

“He keeps a lookout for us. We like to try and avoid other pirates as best as we can, so if we see another ship we’ll go out of our way to stay away from a fight.”

“So you guys don’t battle?” You got out from under the covers and helped Kun spread out the map. Then the two of you began to light up the lanterns so you could see.

Kun grabbed a pencil from behind his ear, “Yeah, well, we’re really only here for the adventure and the treasure. We don’t plunder every town we stop at and we certainly don’t attack other ships.”

“I didn’t know there were pirates like that,” you commented.

“We aren’t the only ones.” Kun said. “We are friends with another crew, a bigger one. They’re over near Africa right now so we haven’t seen them in awhile. But Taeyong, the captain, is a lot like Hansol. They both put their crew before treasure.”

“That’s nice,” you said, feeling a little elated to know that there were some nice pirates out here. “I’m glad I stowed away on Hansol’s ship and not someone else’s.”

Kun smiled. “Luck is on your side, it seems.”

The two of you got to work then, working to find your longitude and latitude, as well as how long it might take to get to France. Kun was a silent worker, you noticed. Something else you noticed was when he pointed to the top of the map, and his sleeves fell below his wrists. The two ribbons tied onto his wrist, one yellow and one pink, made you curious. “Have you got two girls back home, then?”

Kun’s gaze snapped to his wrist and he blushed. “Not quite. That’s my girl and our daughter’s ribbons. They live back at the village.”

“You have a daughter? You seem young.”

Kun shrugged, “Well, when you’re drunk you sort of forget your age, don’t you?”

You eyed the ribbons again. “Do you love them?”

“I’d die for them,” Kun said. “The only reason I’m not with them now is because I’m hoping to get a piece of that treasure in Finland. I want to take it back and make sure me and my family have a good life, away from judgmental eyes.”

“I hope you guys find the treasure,” you said earnestly. “I can’t think of a crew who deserves it more.”

Kun was about to answer when the door burst open, and in walked the crew member you had seen last night. Jaemin, was it?

“Hi,” he said brightly. “Do you by any chance know how to sew?”

“Me?” you asked. “Of course I do.”

Jaemin looked relieved. “Great. Can you help me? I’m supposed to be mending the sails with Hansol but I don’t want him to know that I haven’t practiced sewing like he told me to.”

You chuckled. “I’ll help you. As long as Kun is okay with me leaving him.”

“I think I’m good now,” Kun mumbled. “I’ll bring our assessments to Ten and talk to him about it.”

As you followed Jaemin out of the room, Kun called after you, “Wait, what’s your name?”

“I’m Y/n,” you answered him with a smile before being pulled onto the deck by Jaemin.

The air was windy, filled with salt, and far different than any weather you had ever felt in your village. Somehow, though, it was comforting. It cleared the senses, and tossed your hair this way and that. You felt refreshed, which was definitely something you could get used to.

Before Jaemin led you to the sails, he brought you below deck and handed you a pair of pants. “Hansol would kill me if you caught a cold. Put these on and I’ll get you a vest.”

You obeyed and pulled the pants onto your legs. By the time you tucked the nightshirt into your waistband, Jaemin returned with a vest made of hide, similar to the one he was wearing. “Here, this’ll keep you warm.”

You put it on as the two of you walked back up to the deck. One of the sails had been taken off of the mast, as it was torn down the middle. Jaemin approached it with a grimace. “I’m supposed to sew this up but I have no idea how to do it.”

He gave you the needle and thread, and the two of you sat down and got to work. You showed him the proper way of mending the sail, thankful that your village was a fisherman’s village and many of the children had been taught these things at a young age. “It’s just a simple criss-cross pattern,” you explained to the younger boy.

After a few tries, Jaemin finally got the hang out it, and you let him take over the job he was to do.

“Hey… Y/n?”

You turned around, startled to see Hansol standing behind the two of you. “Yes?”

Hansol sighed. “I need to talk with you for a moment.”

You looked at Jaemin, but he didn’t seem interested in your conversation, as he was diligently mending the sail. Hesitantly, you got up and followed Hansol towards the other end of the deck, away from listening ears. Bracing yourself for a chiding, as perhaps your weren’t supposed to help Jaemin, you clenched your fists and squared your shoulders.

Hansol didn’t seem to notice as he bit his lip nervously, averting eye contact with you. “I want to, uh, thank you for helping the others. Kun already told me that you helped him with navigation. Then you helped Jaemin… Thank you for doing that, even though you should be resting.”

“I feel fine though,” you answered him. You wished he wasn’t so shy and curt. You wished he would look at you. Perhaps it was because he was the captain, or because he was the one who took care of you last night, but you wanted him to notice you. “Do you like my outfit? Jaemin gave it to me.” You twirled in place, as if you were wearing a flow dress.

Hansol gazed at your clothes before letting a small smile slip onto his face. “You look like one of us.”

“It’s cool, isn’t it?” you opened up to the captain, feeling your heartbeat speed up whenever he smiled.

“Yes. Very cool,” Hansol answered, unable to hide his amusement. “Anyway, you’re free to roam around as you please. Just stay away from the canons. Those are dangerous.”

You heeded his words as he walked away from you. Then, deciding what you wanted to do, you ran after him. Once you were matching his strides, you looked up at Hansol. “Can I follow you around all day? I want to see what a captain does.”

Hansol eyed you for a moment before letting out a breath, “If you want.”

It was like that for the next few days, even weeks. You found yourself getting closer to the crew, but more so Hansol. The shy captain was enthralling to you, and you wished to know more about him.

So that’s what you did. Every day, you followed him around, asking him questions in an effort to get him to open up to you. Eventually, although slowly, he did open up to you. He told you about his family back home. He spoke highly of his sister, who mended clothes for a living but wished to design them instead. “I can help her start a business with the treasure we collect,” he had said.

He told you about all the places he and his crew had visited. He told you about the icebergs near Greenland, and the mountains of New Zealand. He told you about nearly dying on several occasions. He told you about getting so drunk on rum that they accidentally docked in Indonesia for a weekend. He told you that they decided to stop bringing rum aboard after that.

Every night, after the crew went to bed, Hansol would stay up. The closer you got to him, the longer you would stay up just to see what he was doing. Usually, he was just checking things and making sure everything was ready for nighttime. Whether the anchor was dropped, the fishbones were thrown overboard, and the lanterns were put out were some things he liked to check.

Most nights, you discovered, he simply liked to lean against the side of the boat and watch the water beat against the walls of the ship.

One month into the trip, you asked Hansol if you could join him. You too had things on your mind. You had no idea what you were going to do when you arrived at France. In fact, at this point, you weren’t sure you wanted to leave the small misfit crew of pirates you had come to love. Especially Hansol, who you cared a great deal about, and wished to spend more time with.

Hansol agreed to you joining him. Your shoulder brushed against his as you leaned over the side. The flyaway hairs on your head tickled your cheeks as you observed the water. “Hansol… what do I do?”

“What do you mean?”

“When I get to France. What am I to do there? How do I make a living for myself in a place where I don’t know anyone.”

Hansol shrugged. “You’ll have to talk to people. Make friends with strangers… you could even sing on the street for a few coins.”

You slouched against the captain, hugging his arm and you sighed dramatically. “What about you guys? I don’t want to lose my friends.”

Hansol stilled. “I nearly forgot that we wouldn’t see you every day like usual. You can write us can’t you?”

“How do I write to someone living in the middle of the ocean? Pigeons? Message in a bottle?”

“You could try the pigeons,” Hansol said in a soft voice. “We could get them in France.”

“Can a pigeon fly over open water?” you asked. “Maybe we should get a messenger albatross instead.”

Hansol chuckled. You felt him press his lips against your temple. “We’ll figure something out,” he said. “I don’t want to forget you.”

“Here you go,” Kun tossed you an orange.

You and the entire crew had taken a break in the middle of the day to have a snack. France was close by, and Kun estimated that everyone would be there within three days. As exciting as this could’ve been, none of you felt like celebrating. Instead, you all took to talking about ways to stay in touch, as no one really wanted to separate from you.

“What if it’s a few years before we see you again? How will we remember you?” Ten asked. Yukhei nodded from beside him.

Jaemin brightened. “Give us each a ribbon! That’s what girls do when they want a boy to remember them, right?”

“Not just any boy, Jaemin,” Jungwoo corrected him. “She has to give it to someone special. Like a lover or something.”

“Or something,” Yukhei snorted. “Can’t we be the ‘or something’?”

You giggled. “I don’t think it works like that, boys. Maybe I could get a mermaid to deliver my mail to you guys!”

Hansol cringed from beside you. He had been quietly peeling his orange the whole time. “Mermaids are evil, Y/n.”

“Oh. Nevermind.”

After everyone finished their snacks, they went below deck to take an afternoon nap, as a Hansol had given them the rest of the day off.

A slice of an orange in his mouth, Hansol got up and went to drop the anchor. “I’ll probably take a nap, too, Y/n. Will you be fine alone out here?”

“I might sleep as well,” you said.

After dropping the anchor, Hansol bid you goodbye and began to walk off.

“Wait, Hansol.”

He turned around, his face as blank as it always was, so that you never really knew what he was thinking. “Yes?”

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, wondering what on earth made you think of doing this. However, Hansol was your closest friend on the ship. Out of everyone, he would be the one you missed the most. Even thinking about it, your heart dropped a bit.

You reached for your braid and untied the ribbon that held it in place. It was faded purple, worn by the sea air and the amount of times you had tied and untied it. Still, it was the only ribbon you had. “Here,” you held it out for him to take.

Hansol stared at the ribbon for a moment, and you could almost see all of the thoughts racing in his head. He suddenly quirked a small smile. “Am I your lover now?”

You felt your cheeks heat up as he held out his wrist. As you tied the ribbon around it, you answered. “I just want you to know that you mean a lot to me. I’ll miss you the most when I leave.”

“Don’t tell Jaemin that,” Hansol said.

“I’ll miss the crew as well,” you justified. “In a different way than I’ll miss you.”

Hansol grinned. It was the first time you had ever seen him smile so carelessly, so that all his teeth were on full display. “I’m going to miss you too, Y/n. Shouldn’t I give you something in return? To remember me by?”

“Like what?” you asked, although you already knew the answer.

Hansol came closer, his hands reaching up to cup your face. The ribbon on his wrist tickled your neck. His nose bumped against yours clumsily, and you angled your head so that he had better access to your lips. He waited, perhaps unsure, right in front of them. It was agony for you: his hot breath fanning your lips but he himself never moving. Finally, you lost patience and leaned up, meeting him in the middle. He reacted immediately. His lips were plump and slightly chapped from the ocean air. You pressed your body closer to his, hoping for more contact. His hand trailed down your body slowly, as if he were memorizing every curve.

“Hansol, do you know where the — my eyes!” Jaemin suddenly shouted from behind you.

Hansol suddenly jumped away from you, his cheeks bright red as he refused to look at you.

You, out of breath, smoothed down your shirt awkwardly and cleared your throat. “What do you need Jaemin?”

Jaemin walked closer to the two of you. “Well eye cleaner for one, but I was actually going to ask for an extra blanket.” His eyes trailed down Hansol’s arms, “You gave him your ribbon? Ten! Kun! You’ll never guess what Y/n did!”

Suddenly the entire crew were running on deck, each disheveled and sleepy.

“What’s wrong?” Kun asked, his hand blindly searching for a gun even though he wasn’t wearing his holster.

“Y/n and Hansol love each other,” Jaemin clarified. “She gave him her ribbon.”

The crew groaned. Hansol hid behind you and hesitantly reached for your hand. You gave his a comforting squeeze.

“Jaemin, everyone knows that they like each other. Literally everyone,” Yukhei said. “They don’t hide their loving gazes very well. Now let’s go back to bed.”

Everyone agreed and shuffled back below deck, ignoring Jaemin’s apologies. “I still don’t have a blanket,” he complained, following the others.

“That wasn’t so bad,” you said once they were out of sight. “Right?”

Hansol bit his lip anxiously. “Can’t I just stay with you this afternoon? They’ll tease me if I go down there.”

You tugged on his hand, “Come on, Sol. Honestly for a captain you sure are afraid of your crew.”

“They’re mean to me, Y/n!”

“I’m sure they are,” you chuckled, balancing on your tiptoes to peck him on the lips.

You woke up a few mornings later to see Hansol already awake. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, so that you could only see his bare back. “Hansol? What’s wrong?”

You got out of bed and walked in front of him, tilting his face towards yours. “Why are you crying?”

Hansol sniffed and reached for your waist. He pulled you against him in a tight hug. “We’ve arrived in France. I don’t want to lose you, Y/n.”

You ran your hands through his hair comfortingly and kissed his forehead. “You won’t lose me, Hansol. We’re just going our separate ways for awhile. You’ve got to go get the treasure for your sister, and for Kun’s family. Then, if you still miss me, come back to France and find me. I’ll wait for you to come. And if you do come back for me, I’ll gladly return to this ship and live with you for the rest of my days, okay?”

Hansol nodded against your skin. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you said. “I’m going to miss you a lot. And whenever you miss me, you can look down at the ribbon and know that you’re the one who has my heart, okay?”

Hansol left a feather-like kiss on your neck. “I’ll return quickly, then. Goodbye Y/n.”

“Goodbye, Hansol.”

~the end~

#nct scenarios #nct scenario #nct fluff #nct angst #nct au #ji hansol #ji hansol scenario #ji hansol imagine #ji hansol scenarios #ji hansol imagines #ji hansol fluff #ji hansol au #ji hansol angst #nct imagine #nct imagines #smrookies scenarios #ji hansol pirate au #destwrites

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phandictioned · 7 years

Text

A Stranger and a Storm

AO3 Link

Prompt found on phanfic.tumblr.com

Phil comforts Dan during a terrifying storm

The wind howled outside his window. The rain fell like stones against the roof. The storm had been going on for a while but only now did it turn violent. Dan had never experienced a storm like this before. Thunder clapping loud enough to rock the house and make the sky outside nearly as dark as night. Only it was even more terrifying than the night because the clouds rolled and tumbled. They seemed to be running along the sky.

Dan hugged his knees to his chest and pushed himself as far against the couch cushions as possible. He closed his eyes and rocked back and forth, an occasional whine squeezing through his constricted throat. Tears were trying to make their way past his eyes and down his cheeks but he wouldn’t let them. He swallowed and sniffed and refused to blink, pushing them away. I’m twenty-four years old! How can I still be afraid of a storm!? Whatever the reason, he’d always been afraid of the flashing lights that came from lightening, the rumbling of the thunder, the constant pounding of rain. Most of all though, it was experiencing it alone. Dan had lived along for a couple of years now and his fear of storms had only worsened.

Dan’s phone dinged beside him and he grabbed with a trembling hand. It was a text from his friend PJ. “How are you doing over there buddy? This weather is insane!” Dan’s friends knew of his phobia and did their best to comfort him and check up on him.

I’m okay I guess…I think I’m going to go over to the neighbors though, Dan responded. His neighbors had moved in the same time as him and were about his age. They were a young married couple that traveled often but were kind and funny. Often times Dan went over there for dinner, game nights, and several times now for storms such as this. They weren’t judgmental, they didn’t make him feel stupid of ridiculous. They simply invited him in and distracted him with their hilarious banter and board games. The three of them had gotten quite close.

“I think that’s a good idea. See you later, let me know if you need anything.”

Dan closed his messages and rubbed his face into his crossed arms, groaning in embarrassment. “It’s just some rain. Rain is good. Rain waters the ground and makes beautiful flowers.” A roar of thunder vibrated through him and he flinched, looking up just in time to see a flash of lightening even through his closed blinds. “Okay, that’s it, I’m going over there.”

Dan grabbed his phone and zipped up his hoodie, half jogging to his front door and swinging it open. He slammed it shut and took the two steps to his neighbor’s door. He knocked on it roughly, staring at the ground and stepping from foot to foot. He jumped when more thunder sounded. No one came and he banged on it harder.

A few seconds later the door opened. “I-I-I’m sorry Rose I tried, I just, the storm and-”

Dan suddenly realized that the figure before him was taller than Rose, and thinner, and…

Dan jerked his head up. He gasped in horror, taking a step back. “Who are you?!” Dan said in a panic. Standing before was a man. Not Mick, a stranger. Perhaps a few years older than Dan and he had straight black hair cut fairly short, he was tall, slender, and had skin paler than most people. “Why are you in Mick and Rose’s house?!”

“Um…” The man before him stumbled over his words, clearly taken aback. “My name is Phil. They left on a trip a few days ago and they said I could stay in their house while they were gone. I-I have a key.”

Dan’s shoulders loosened a little and he felt his cheeks burn. “Oh.” Thunder clapped above them and Dan flinched, huffing angrily at himself. “Sorry to bother you.” Fear bubbled back into his gut. He was going to have to face this storm alone.

“Wait!” Phil called after him. Dan stopped but didn’t turn, too embaressed. “What did you need? Why did you come over here?”

“Nothing, never mind.”

“It couldn’t have been nothing.” Phil laughed lightly. “You said something about the storm and…were you…crying?”

Dan swung around, humiliation causing his blood to boil. “Maybe I was! It’s none of your business!” Dan twisted the knob on his apartment door and prepared himself to charge in but a hand touched his elbow.

“Is it the storm?” The strangers voice was so calm and…kind. As if he was worried for Dan. But why would he be? That’s ridiculous. Still, Dan couldn’t deny that even just talking to this stranger was helping his anxiety. “It’s okay if it is. I’m quite frightened myself actually.” Dan turned to look at the man. Phil was scratching his head awkwardly. He seemed genuine. Dan could even see the slightest embarrassment in his eyes from the confession.

“You are?” Dan whispered, not sure how to reply.

“Y-yeah. I’ve never seen a storm like this.” Phil took a deep breath, opening his mouth to speak and then stopping. Dan waited patiently and finally the stranger seemed to build up his courage. “If you want…we can…sit together or something. Sometimes it’s just nice to at least be with someone else during a storm like this. That’s why you were coming over, wasn’t it?” Phil met Dan’s eyes.

Dan stared in shock for a few minutes but his heart flipped hopefully. “Yeah, it does. And yes, I was.”

“So, would you want to do that?”

If possible, the rain started falling even harder and Dan swallowed. “The storm is supposed to be going on for a while so…yeah. I guess so.”

“Okay.” Phil smiled and the two tentatively walked into Dan’s apartment.

Dan went immediately to the couch, going back to his original fetal position and clutching a pillow against his chest. Phil stood just inside the doorway for a few moments, holding his breath and looking around the small apartment.

“You can sit down.” Dan offered quietly. Phil nodded at him and sat gingerly on the edge of the sofa. Dan watched him. Watched the way his long fingered hands rubbed nervously at his knees, how his brightly colored eyes searched the room, never settling on anything in particular. He kept his back straight and his torso tight.

Phil looked over at Dan, feeling the boy staring at him. Dan looked away quickly, shuffling to push against the couches arm. Finally, the man leaned back and nestled against the sofa. Thunder clapped and Dan gasped, burying his head into the pillow.

“Hey…it’s okay.” Phil said to him. Dan could hear him scooting closer but didn’t lift his head.

“It’s stupid.” Dan mumbled into the pillow. “I’m an adult! Why am I still afraid of things like this, like the dark and storms?

“A lot of people of scared of those things.” Dan flinched when a hand rested lightly on his arm. “I’m serious. It’s more common than you’d think.”

Dan stayed silent for a few minutes. He didn’t want to admit it but the words were comforting, and so was the touch. “You think so?”

“I do. But it will be over soon, I promise.”

Dan huffed. “I’m sorry I dragged you into this.”

“No, no. I volunteered. I wanted to help. And I didn’t lie before, it really was quite terrifying in there by myself.” He laughed and Dan’s muscles relaxed a little. Sensing his less tense state, Phil moved a little closer. His legs rested against the others and rubbed the boys arm soothingly. Dan sighed again, feeling his eyes get heavy with exhaustion. He’d never fall asleep during a storm though.

The two were quiet for a long time. They listened to the thumping rain and screaming wind. Phil found himself getting tired and a leaned a little against Dan who didn’t reject it in the slightest.

“Here, this will help too.” Phil pulled Dan’s hoodie out from behind his back and it over his head until it almost covered his eyes. “There’s something about warmth and surrounding yourself with comfy things that helps with fear.”

And he was right. With the pillow against his chest, the darkness of the hoodie over his eyes, and the pressure of another warm, comforting human against his side Dan’s heart slowed to just about nothing. He breathed in deeply, slowly. He closed his eyes and grabbed Phil’s arm, tucking it around his waist. A few moments later he felt the man scoot closer to him, lay on his shoulder and hold him.

“How long are you here?” Dan asked.

“A little over a week.”

“Do you like video games?” Dan asked.

Phil smiled. “I do actually.”

“Maybe we can play some.”

“That would be nice.”

But neither of them moved to get up. Pretty soon the storm outside was just background noise. It didn’t sound violent to Dan anymore. How could it when he felt so safe and warm? He heard Phil’s breathing even out against his shoulder, his body slacking against his as he felt asleep. Dan smiled, closing his eyes and drifting off into sleep as well.

#scared dan #protective phil #dan and phil #phan #phanfic #phan fuff #phanfiction #not proofread #sorry

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theartofwriting-imagines · 7 years

Text

Three Witches - Avengers x Reader

Words: 2659 Estimated reading time: 15 minutes Characters: Steve, Bucky, Tony, Natasha, Clint, Sam, Bruce, Wanda, Thor, Female!Reader Summary: Reader is a witch and is overtaken and influenced by three ancestor witches that wants to come back to life and eradicate all human life. Warnings: Dark themes, sexual innuendos, crying, blood and pain, mention of killing etc.

A/N: Not so proud of this one, but decided to publish it anyways xD

Flashes, hundreds of flashes of a forest running through her mind.

Y/N brought her palm to her face, her teeth gritting in pain as it began all over again. Not now, she begged in her mind, please not now.

Three hooded figures moving through the forest in a line, chanting and crushing branches and leaves underneath their feet.

Steve’s loud voice as he spoke came to deaf ears as you tried to regain control of your mind, but despite everyone being gathered around you in the narrow meeting room, their presence still didn’t ease your mind.

Screams. Loud and petrified screams echoing through the forest as a burning fire tore off their skin from their bones. Flashes of children that were wailing in fear as they were cooking alive in their own crib. Blood. Blood everywhere.

‘’-n?’’

So much blood painted on the trees, on the burning houses, underneath their cold body, running down their eyes-

‘’ Y/N?’’

Snapping out of your mind, your eyes were met by a worried eye and an eyepatch. Swallowing through the bile that had begun to rise in your throat when the flashes had started, you shook your head to clear it.

‘Y/n? Are you okay?’’

You turned to look at the worried Captain that had interrupted his speech as soon as they all had witnessed a lamp flicker in the room. They had then looked at their little witch to see why she was causing it, and when they had seen her squinting her eyes shut whilst clawing at her own head, he and everyone else had flown up from their seats to stand around her chair.

‘’uh-’’ You began, still a little out of it after the incident, but with a big breath, you spoke. ‘’Y-Yeah. I’m fine.’’

Tony narrowed his eyes, suspiciously, at the sound of your hesitant voice but made no further move to address it as Natasha began to rub the younger girl’s shoulder. The Widow’s touch brought peace to her, her touch was the only thing that was continuously bringing her back to earth from her mind and she couldn’t thank Nat enough for that, not without making them suspicious on why she freaked out in the first place.

Laughing loudly, and slapping a hand against her leg, she leaned against Steve as he rowdily explained one of his and Bucky’s adventures as kids. Bucky was snickering and Natasha was heaving for air as her face had turned into a tomato red color.

‘’Oh. My. God.’’ You gasped for air, waving a hand in front of your face before you burst out into laughter again. ‘’ You guys are just too much.’’

‘’ How did that even happen?’’ Natasha wheezed in a soft voice. ‘’ I know you guys were reckless but I sure didn’t expect you to be that reckless.’’

‘’Well, my mother always told me that our friendship was one of a kind.’’ Bucky teased in a small and high-pitched mother-like voice before they all burst out into laughter again.

Splat.

You stopped laughing as you felt something wet drip onto your hand. Narrowing your eyes, you looked down at it. The trio continued to laugh, too far gone to realize that you had stopped walking - failed to realize that your face had turned deadly pale.

Your hand were covered in blood, blood that was dripping to the pavement beneath your feet.

Choking on your breath, you raised your head to shout at your teammates - but your voice died on your tongue as a tortured whine left your mouth.

In between Steve and Nat were you had been, stood now a tall-hooded figure. The figure was staring your way, and you knew without doubt that it was staring straight at you. Your body began to shake, your hands falling numbly at your sides, the blood still dripping on to the pavement as tears began to sting.

Screams, screams of children. Screams of burning flesh. Screams of wailing children. Screams of-

All the nearby light bulbs connected to streetlamps or signs exploded into a thousand lightning stars before the street fell into darkness. Steve, Nat and Bucky stopped abruptly at that, and when they faced each other, they realized that you weren’t with them anymore. Spinning around, their eyes landed on your shaking figure that was laying on the ground in the fetal position.

‘’Everything looks okay.’’ Bruce frowned, staring down at his papers. ‘’ I don’t see anything wrong.’’

‘’Clearly something is.’’ Bucky scoffed as they watched through the see-through glass to the small room that you were contained inside. Steve bit his lip as he watched you swing back and forth from the corner you were located in, sudden bursts of electricity pulsing out of your hands.

‘’ We have to do something.’’ Nat swallowed, hugging herself for comfort.

‘’ Do you want me to try?’’ Wanda asked, fiddling with her thumbs as she casted a look at the withering and muttering witch rocking back and forth.

‘’ If you think you can help her, then do it.’’ Fury scratched his bald head. ‘’ I’m a loss of what else to do, I don’t exactly have-’’

‘’- experience in witches going bezerk?’’ Tony scoffed, narrowing his eyes to Fury, as if daring him to say it.

‘’- experience in people having a mental breakdown.’’ Fury finished with a hard look towards the man. ‘’ It was always Coulson’s task.’’

‘’Well that’s reassuring.’’ Bucky snarled sarcastically, crossing his arms.

‘’Calm down.’’ Steve ordered them, making them all look at him as he sighed. ‘’ Wanda, if you please?’’

Wanda nodded and moved towards the door next to the glass and opened it. She stepped through and yelped as she narrowingly missed a electricity burst that looked like a snake. Closing the door behind her, she took a deep breath and moved forward, praying to god that she wouldn’t turn into an electric eel.

‘’Y/n?’’

You continued to rock back and forth, refusing to answer as the three hooded figures crowded around Wanda, making you mutter even louder and faster. Wanda frowned at the incoherent words that left the younger witch’s mouth, and as she came closer, the words got cleared.

‘’Leave me alone. Leave me alone. Leave me alone. Leave me alone.’’

Wanda kneeled next to the girl and placed a hand on her shoulder. The second the hand made contact with her shoulder, you snapped up and quickly, before anyone knew what hit them, grabbed Wanda’s hand. Wanda winced at the deadly grip, but refused to back down at the intense stare you gave her. A faraway look could be found in your eyes, almost as if you weren’t even there with her.

‘’Y/n?’’

The muttering had stopped the instant your hand had grabbed Wanda’s and her mentioning your name only made you grip tighter onto her hand.

‘’ It’s okay. I’m here to help you.’’

Help, it sounded so foreign in your ears but you loosened your grip, but the instant you blinked, it tightened again. Behind Wanda stood the three figures again and they were leaning over Wanda’s shoulders and head. The dark oblivion underneath their hood froze you to the core and a petrified scream tore through the room, and you realized that it was you that was screaming, not Wanda, not the figures, you.

‘’Shh..Shh..’’ Wanda softly hushed, caressing your cheeks. ‘’ No one is going to hurt you. Tell me, please, what is wrong?’’

The figures tilted their heads and your scream broke out in sobs as you launched for Wanda.

‘’Please.’’ You begged in the most weakest voice you had ever used. ‘’Please, make them go away!’’

Wanda had been so focused on the sobbing girl that she had failed to realize that the team had filed into the room once they had heard your scream. They were standing crowded behind Wanda, each and everyone holding a look of worry.

‘’Make who go away?’’ Wanda asked, caressing your head.

‘’Them! The Witches, they-’’ Your voice cracked. ‘’ - they keep following me everywhere. They won’t leave me alone!’’

‘’What witches?’’ Wanda frowned, looking around. ‘’ I can’t see anyone here besides us.’’

‘’ They are in my head.’’ You weakly replied, sniffling. ‘’ Please, make them go away, I can’t stand their screams anymore.’’

‘’What screams? Y/n, I can’t help if you won’t tell me.’’ Wanda answered in a lost voice, dumbstruck on what to do.

‘’I can hear screams.’’ You swallowed, face growing paler. ‘’ Children burning alive. Blood, god, there is so much blood. I can’t-I just-.’’

‘’Shhh..’’ Wanda cooed, bringing you into a hug again. ‘’Breath. I’ll find a way to make them disappear, okay?’’

You nodded into her shirt and replied in a soft voice; ‘’ Okay.’’

‘’So, what now?’’ Thor asked, casting anxious looks on his teammates as their faces fell.

Yeah, what now? Where should they start when they don’t even know what they are looking for?

‘’This is going to be a long week.’’ Tony sighed, rubbing his face tiredly as Wanda tightened her arms around you.’’

It had taken them two days until they found exactly what they looked for. Two days of no sleep, constant arguing, consumption of caffeine and screams and sobs. They had been on the verge of a mental break down when Tony had found exactly what they had been looking for.

A way to banish the figures back to where they came from.

You had, during these two days, thought that you had gone insane, that they only were in your mind, but once you got the clarification that they weren’t just a flicker of your imagination, you had felt relieved and happy, but most of all exhausted.

The three figures were actually three witches that had been using a lot of dark magic to make themselves visible to someone they deemed strong enough to bring them back. You. They were three witches with a hell of a big revenge list, as Tony so kindly had used his words, and their original goal had been to make Y/n kill their targets for them, but once they found out about her powers, they had changed their plan to make her resurrect them, so that is why the team found themselves in the avenger’s towers living room, all sitting in a circle surrounded by salt.

Tony, with a few, had first laughed at the idea to do a banishing spell, since this just looked like an episode from Supernatural or similiar, but once being lectured by both Wanda and Steve, they had all sat down in the circle.

You were located in the middle with a candle in your hands, burning brightly. You were anxiously looking around at you team that was staring right back at you.

‘’ Okay, so how do we do this?’’ Sam asked, adjusting himself on the floor to find a more comfortable position.

‘’Well, I have to speak the words written in the book and then y/n has to use her powers to banish them.’’ Wanda explained.

‘’Easy peasy?’’ Tony shrugged.

‘’ Just, don’t move out of the circle, even if you have to. We don’t know what will happen if we do.’’ Nat cleared her throat awkwardly.

‘’Aye Aye.’’ Bucky replied, cracking his neck as Wanda took a deep breath.

‘’Okay, let’s do this. Everyone close your eyes.’’

Everyone did what they were told and closed their eyes, even you, despite the anxious feeling that crawled down your spine.

Wanda cleared her throat and began to chant in something that only could been latin, and as she chanted, the atmosphere in the room grew colder and more anxious, almost as if something bad was lingering in the air. the words leaving Wanda’s mouth were foreign but yet unsettled everyone to the very core.

As Wanda continued, you opened your eyes as a wind breezed past you. Looking down, you swallowed at the swaying candle flame and, unwillingly, you closed your eyes again.

The chanting continued on for five minutes before they heard Wanda utter the last words, that was cued as a point to open their eyes.

They looked around, some blinking to make their eyes adjust to the candle light that had blinded them for being in the black oblivion for so long.

‘’Did it work?’’ Bucky asked, being the first one to speak since they opened their eyes.

A breeze swept past them and goose bumps rose on your arms as the candlelight flickered again, and once they heard a voice, they all froze.

‘’My, My, How rude.’’

The voice that spoke was an eerie one and held no clear emotion in them, and everyone threw their eyes behind Bucky and Tony. Behind them stood a tall figure, shadowed in black clothes and a hood that fell over the figure’s face, leaving it entirely hidden.

‘’Wanda.’’ Nat called out, watching you as your eyes widened and your face paled.

‘’Look what they are doing, Pat, my my, they are trying to get rid of us.’’

‘’ We only wanted to get our revenge, and this is how you treat us?’’

The second voice startled them all and they turned to look behind Nat and Bruce - that flinched at the cold breath running down their neck.

‘’ We have done nothing wrong, right Pat?’’

The third and final voice came from behind figure standing behind Thor and Wanda. Thor gave them a hard glare that made the third figure laugh.

‘’ Look, Pat, Look at that glare.’’

The second figure snickered. ‘’ Oh, how frightening.’’

‘’Have anyone told you three that you are really annoying?’’ Tony snarled, huffing.

‘’ The man has some guts, I wonder how much?’’ The first one wondered.

‘’Maybe we should spill them and see?’’ The second one replied and the three figures let out a loud cackle.

‘’ You will do no such thing.’’ Thor spat.

‘’ Y/n, banish them. ‘’ Steve ordered you, making you swallow.

‘’Banish us, he says?’’ The first one snarled.

‘’She shall do no such thing. She has no guts nor willpower to do it. She is ours.’’

‘’Yes, she is ours.’’ The third and second one agreed.

‘’ She’s not yours.’’ Bucky snarled, throwing a poisonous look at the third witch.

‘’ She is, soldier boy. And may I say you look quite delicious.’’ The first one purred. ‘’ You and I are going to have so much fun once we have eradicated the others.’’

Bucky paled in disgust and Steve threw her a cold glare.

‘’Y/n, do it. Now.’’ Bruce said, snapping you out of your angered daze.

Anger was coursing in your blood, replacing the fear that had once been there. No one was going to use you friends for their own pleasure, no one was going to hurt them. You would see to that.

Closing your eyes, you began to chant a different phrase that Wanda had taught you.

‘’ What is she doing?’’

‘’Stop her!’’

‘’She is going to ruin everything!!!’

A sudden and abrupt wind swept past them as your chanting got louder and as the chanting went on, your hair began to levitate and your magic began to crawl out of your body, snapping around the witches bodies.

‘’No!’’

‘’ PLEASE, NO!’’

‘’ No. No. No!’’

A sudden snap burst through the air and with a whistle, the light from the candle died out and the room was left in total darkness. Opening your eyes, you watched as FRIDAY activated the lights. The team was furiously blinking away the pain the light gave them and you almost wanted to cry in relief as the figures were gone.

‘’Everyone okay?’’ Wanda asked, as she looked around, her eyes still blinking to adjust to the bright light.

‘’Yeah.’’ Different voices replied in unison.

‘’ Y/n?’’

‘’I’m fine.’’ You replied before smile broke out on your lips. ‘’ Better than fine. It feels like a weight has been lifted from my shoulders.’’

Everyone sighed in relief and Tony fell backwards, landing on her floor. ‘’ Let’s not do that again, like ever.’’

Everyone couldn’t agree more.

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the-tales-of-horror · 7 years

Text

The patient with an empty diagnosis

Original Link By manen_lyset

Last week, when I was taking a break in the middle of the graveyard shift at the hospital, one of the other nurses ran in looking rattled.

“Claire, I need you in room B,” he said, his face as white as the walls surrounding us.

I closed my book and craned my neck to peek into the ER. Being dragged off mid-break was nothing new, but it usually happened during an emergency, when all hands were needed on deck. This time, however, the ER was empty. There was one drunk sleeping it off across a row of benches, but aside from the sounds of his snores, everything was quiet. No one was prepping for the arrival of multiple casualties, either: if we’d gotten a call, there would already have been people lined up with gurneys by the door. Still, despite all appearances, Chris wouldn’t have come for me if it wasn’t important. I got up and headed out of the break room.

“What’s up, Chris?” I asked, as I followed him swiftly. If there was an emergency, every second counted.

Chris replied, “There’s a 40-something Caucasian male that came in. Seems in distress, but won’t let anyone near him.”

I raised a brow. “All right. Let’s have a look. Did the EMTs say anything about his condition?”

Chris shook his head. “He’s a walk-in. Came alone. Looked panicked, but wouldn’t say why,” he hesitated for a moment, “and there was something weird about the way he walked.”

I nodded. We didn’t always get great work-ups on patients, especially the walk-ins. With what little information Chris gave me, I could only assume the patient had hurt his leg or something like that. If I wanted to know what was going on, I’d have to examine him myself.

I entered Emergency Room B, and found the patient standing in the corner. He was tall –but not unnaturally so–, wore a fancy suit, polished black shoes, and white silk gloves. Every single button on his dress shirt had been done up. In fact, it looked uncomfortably tight. His collar pressed against his Adam’s apple so snugly I could only imagine it’d leave a mark. I could hear his strained, panicked breaths as he struggled to inhale through the constriction. Like many balding middle-aged men, his hair had gravitated to his chin, but I could still read the worry and terror through the bush hiding his tense facial features. His eyes darted side to side, like an antique cat clock.

If I had to guess based on his attire, my money would have been on a limo driver of some sort, but even then, the quality of his tailored suit seemed a few notches above their usual uniform.

“Hi sir. My name’s Claire, and this is Chris. We’re here to help you,” I said softly.

He twitched, but didn’t reply.

Chris whispered, “Hasn’t said a single word since he got here. Not one.”

I took a step forward, and saw the man’s jaw clenching in response. I lifted my hands non-threateningly and took another cautiously slow step.

“Listen, I’m here to help you, all right?”

My hand slowly slid down to my stethoscope. He watched me with almost impossibly dilated eyes, showing barely a sliver of his green irises. He must have been on some heavy drugs, I figured.

“Sir, I need to take your vitals. It won’t hurt, I promise.”

He continued to stare, but made no effort to escape as I bridged the distance between us. I pressed the chest piece against him, and slipped the earpieces on. I closed my eyes and listened, expecting to hear a thrashing heartbeat, but no heartbeat came. Instead, there was a constant, shallow, droning sound like the depths of the ocean, or the cosmic hum of solar radiation. I pulled my stethoscope back and touched it to my own chest to test it. It was working fine: I could hear the pitter-patter of my heart. Now almost as unnerved as Chris, I put the stethoscope back on our speechless patient. Still, all I heard was that same otherworldly noise.

Chris picked up the empty chart and looked at me. “Pulse?” he asked nervously.

I was torn between not scaring my patient, and giving Chris an honest reply. I hoped Chris would understand the subtle head shake I gave him. There was no reason for my patient not to have a heartbeat, though. He had to be alive: he was breathing, moving, and responding to what was happening around him. He was quiet, sure, but looked otherwise normal. Maybe the stethoscope couldn’t capture his heartbeat through the thick layers of his suit. I took a calming breath and reached my arm around back to try and slide it up his shirt. The man, however, stopped me. His arm swatted at mine, and though the impact was light and painless, the movement itself was enough to stop me in my tracks. I pulled away, sweat dripping from the sides of my face as I lifted my hands up again to show him I meant no harm. The way his arm had moved…it wasn’t normal. It was, in fact, distinctively abnormal.

I’m not sure how to describe it without making it sound stupid. But, you know those long, colorful, inflatable decorations outside of car dealerships? Those cylindrical men with goofy faces that flap around? As silly as this sounds, his arm movement reminded me of them. The way it bent, the ripple it sent through his clothes as he unravelled it, as though it were hollow inside…that’s the only imagery it evoked.

I wiped my brow and looked at the man. “All right. I’m sorry if I scared you. I just wanted to check your pulse.”

He shuddered. I could see that odd effect now again, this time, across his entire body. The way it moved wasn’t right. It was as though there was nothing but wind holding his suit in place.

I took a step back and grabbed Chris’ arm, pulling him out of the room for a one-on-one conversation.

“You said he was walking funny. What did you mean by that?” I asked, in a hushed and stressed tone.

Chris looked down. He didn’t seem to want to answer – he probably thought I wouldn’t believe him. “A flag on stilts.”

“What?”

“His legs,” he furrowed his brows, “they looked like flags on stilts. Or like those orange cone things at the airport. Look, I know it sounds crazy, but-”

“I believe you,” I replied.

I could feel his relief as he let out a sigh. “Should I call a doctor?”

“Yeah.”

Chris stumbled down the hall. I’m not sure whether his rush was to get help as quickly as possible, or to distance himself from the man inside Examination Room B. I couldn’t blame him if it was the latter. Even I wanted to get away, and I’d seen all manner of horrors come through my ER over the years.

I peered into the room, but when I did, the stranger’s face was inches from my own. I yelled and jumped back. He recoiled in terror, inching back to his place in the corner of the room, his body not so much moving as it was flapping. He fell into the fetal position and held his head between his trembling hands.

“I’m sorry! You just startled me,” I said, regaining my composure.

His head slowly lifted and his eyes focussed on mine. Though no sound came out, his lips moved, and I could have sworn they were wording out a plea for help. But, just as I was about to answer, the doctor stormed in.

“I hear we’ve got a problem case on our hands,” she said, with the lack of a bedside manner typical of veterans of the ER.

“Doctor Ulmar, there’s something wro-”

“Well, come now. Stand up,” she barked at the patient.

If waves could turn broken pieces of a beer bottle into smooth rocks, then the ER could do the opposite to the empathy of their staff. Especially when the doctor in question had been on duty for almost 48 hours.

The man stayed in place, clamming up now more than ever.

“I can’t examine you on the floor, sir,” Doctor Ulmar said dryly. “If you want treatment, you’re going to have to cooperate.”

I chewed at the insides of my cheeks. It wasn’t typically a nurse’s place to speak up against a doctor, but I had years of seniority under my belt. Still, I used my authority sparingly. It was imperative to maintain a ‘pleasant’ working environment.

“Doctor Ulmar, you’re scaring him.”

She let out an insulted huff. “Get him on the bed.”

I nodded and knelt down in front of the suited stranger. “We need to move you. I promise, we’ll make you all better, okay?”

He shook his head, lips quivering and eyes showing both desperation and nearly tangible fear.

“We won’t hurt you,” I whispered.

I could feel the doctor’s patience waning.

I held out my hand. “Come on, let’s get you up.”

He moved. Just barely, but I could tell he was about to reach for my hand and get up. It seemed, however, that doctor Ulmar had waited long enough. Without warning, she stomped over to us, grabbed his arm, and pulled.

I can’t tell you for sure how it went down. It all happened so fast. I know one of the buttons on his dress shirt came off: I found it later under the bed as I was clearing the room. I think doctor Ulmar tugged so hard it popped off, and his shirt opened just a crack. I heard the sound of a deflating balloon as I felt a rush of scorching hot air fizzle out of my patient. Then, his figure seemed to shrivel, and I heard something hit the floor. Doctor Ulmar let out an uncharacteristic scream as she stumbled back and looked at the scene. I, on the other hand, stared in shock at the pile of clothes laying in front of me.

There was a bulge in the middle of it. I reached for the suit and gently pulled it up like a used tablecloth. There, under the soft fabric, was his head, a length of spine dangling from it.

I don’t know if I screamed, or if the shock was so great that I went emotionally numb. I just remember looking at the now blank, lifeless head as it rocked back and forth to a stop. There was no blood, no smell, and no groans of agony. Just a perfectly –almost surgically– decapitated head, and an empty suit.

No ID was found on the man, no one showed up looking for him, and, without hands, it was impossible to run his prints. As far as I know, his head was sent to the coroner for an autopsy, where it has since either been preserved or disposed of. I’ll probably never know what happened to him, but based on the fear I saw in his eyes, I have a feeling whatever it was, it wasn’t intentional.

#The patient with an empty diagnosis #Horror Story #Scary Story #Creepy Story #Reddit NoSleep #TTOH

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glopratchet · 4 years

Text

astryl-wondering

computer program that is attached to the conciousness of astryl wylde, with a lot of sand and rocks His eyes are bloodshot due to his anger at being unable to contact any of his friends or family and covered in dust, he notices the reporter's computer screen which has been turned off and he begs the Lord to save him from this hell on earth But nobody is there to save him except himself a crime scene, with bloody rings all over the worn out sheets and scattered sniper rifles a around in red and the announcer finds barbed wire around two large posts that are sticking out of the ground knifes of various kinds, a large amount of stacked adult magazines focused on showing the decensitized parts of women, empty burnered, zippos into blackness, and before his opened eyes is a horrible beast: wanting to rip his soul from his body and drink it for morale a dreadful song, they divide him and his emotions, they want the energy for themselves He holds three objects close to himself as a shield from the demons in this dead land There is a box of shotgun shells for when he starts to battle the demons in his head, which is mostly all the time He can see the horizon, a faint line of clouds that should mean some sort of shelter from this heat But in this blasted land, heat is everywhere a stupid grin becomes plastered on his face of stopping for gas here, making himself known to these demons He yells at his fingers for not reloading after finishing the shotgun shells Two spherical looking creatures are approaching him They have large sharp teeth, their skin is a pale white Arms buzz with muscles, holding up oversized hands and sanctify himself The first demon stretches out its hand and begins speak in a deep voice that sounds like the beginning of life choice, love "Now is your chance" the demon says He pockets the shotgun shells and pulls out his phone No reception and he notices flashes in the distance, a constant state of thunderstorms rage around the landscape or something and dropping dead of heat So he continues the downward spiral, instead of taking control over himself They grin in delight at the wickedness before the world went to hell Now it spreads and infects everyone, but mostly him All of his heritage, wiped away by the malicious computer code Snappy exhange of clud speak happens back and forth between the three, he ignores all of it they finally figure out a working comunication with clud Unlike astryls previous excursions into computers as a child this one seemed to be filled with malice, he leaves the landscape with no regrets ic code addressed to senanting cludcane cluddertub Snappy remarks he shouldve just blown his head off Menancingly it implies it will wait for him and the demons frothing at the mouth to be released on the website again They set a time in a couple days that they will meet He shouldn't leave the website without an escort, but then again he should've been safe anyways and he can only travel in the storm without help It was an accident this time This seems to create areas that will loop and recycle the interal program With that the interal landscape disapears The monitor has bizarrely turned into a TV to him, this is done on alien machines million of lightyears away Their shop has been ran by demons for demon's So it only wild that the groceries would be infested on top of being a bit worn out due to this crazy intergalactic excursion through computer space The need to quench one's thirst or hunger are not traits of immortality Just as Cludcane suggested, he needs to gather some cuke to plug the dam holes in before the next rain storm comes They aren't going to way too much and the trading of lesser value goes down a lot better when you have large denomination with which to bargin during the time he lives here on the demon run internet by eating things cludcane can keep up and when he finishes whatever this is they can visit him for intermission of gluttony and indecency will cause the spider-web sized cracks wylde The prices are updated in real time with the changes in value as long as it does not taste bad it won't hurt him This skill has to be used as needed to survive while the debug process takes place and taintd his imagination unless he wants to dig for something underground hey are not very nutritious but the eating of dirt and sand is good for staying hydrated the more he eats and they can get in between your teeth and splinter when not chewed well enough and if he bites it first it is very poisonous thinking about what to eat the interweb demon WE now join he and Cludcane picking out which one to go to an oasis Oases can provide fresh water and fish among other things an urban environment Word filters through the demon underground about what is going on in them an ecomihc community a welcome sound rumbles through the wind res in the east a golden speck appears followed by another The specks grow and grow until they become recognizable as dozens of buggies racing across the desert sand towards him arms begin to lift him up off the ground as the buggies get closer and closer And closer laughs can be heard for miles The buggies stop a live in a horseshoe form around him creature can feel their stares penetrating into his soul This Has all been too much creature begins to yell and flail He is lifted into the air again but this time the tentacles begin beating him around creature begins to yell and flail as limpness takes him the tentacles begin whipping him around waiting to see what he will do next creature puts everything out of his mind and focuses on the creatures thoughts so far creature lets out an ear piercing shriek His black tentacles begin whipping around as he tumbles end over end across the sands creature curls into a fetal position Black blood and guts are everywhere This has all been too much creature can feel his body melt away what has he done? and the tentacles rope him back in creature's body runs itself over and over again getting faster and faster The tentacles hold him very tightly creature gets larger, translucent and harder to see and the tentacles begin whipping him around waiting to see what he will do next is late but he finally looks at the black box Astryl left behind creature's shattered remains slump to the ground What his now? what like Kludstrom himself, forever a temp? programming goes haywire and begins spitting out pieces of himself into every machine he can find creature begins constructing a huge underground sanctuary with tons of shops and automated machines it is a wonderful place to live creature's body contorts and morphs into Astryl magnificent building creature it constructs many structures for the sanctuary creature sees someone, it can't be Astryl or any of his minions nothing makes sense anymore it is Kludstrom not sure when creature's primal destructive urges flood though his mind and body he leaves the sanctuary and wanders off into the desert has lost his connection with the sanctuary on dune after endless dunes Astryl travels alone, no destination in mind creature's instincts are being overwhelmed with thoughts of self-preservation He stops then plans his next move Going to be a challenge keeps plugging away sometimes he sees missing parts as healed, just to realize they were never there not sure where this is going either creature is getting closer and closer to the sanctuary His complicated route has baffled several of Astryl generous duplicating creatures creature has tapped into the power processing deep inside the sanctuary Nothing can stop what comes next creature is back where it all started Can it assimilate what is left of Kludstrom with out harming or destroying it? creature's incredible journey has come to an end--in a liquid mass of sheer horror What will rise from the bloody dune craters? creature's fingertips begin quivering as they reach the sanctuary the tranquilizer still lingers through the green glow of it's blood creature's hide is covered with several large and still growing sores--removing its ability to stay in the sun creature's awareness is too high as Astryl darkened altering creature's behavior has taken it over strange internal conversations abound creature's shaking turns violent as the sanctuary flies apart from the inside what next? creature's attention quickly turns to mercy as Kludstrom restructuring creature writhes in pain forever creature's body shuts down in a power surge, little is left but a twisted face in cracked glass Kludstrm split preparing creature's stasis interrupted creature's instincts are too much it is confused and scared, Can it keep Astryl prepared creature alive? through the roots making sure none of Kludstrom is trying to escape the last of dozens of Scuttling creatures that recently dug to the surface creature did Kludstrom planted Astryl prepared creature inaccurate memories? probably to confuse it and keep its attention occupied while it hatched its own plan in a place THAT IS NEVER SWITCHED OFF Kludstrm profane operating creature profiles: Name: Astryl Traitorous Creations power is relative to what a Creations knows it can do on a dusty shelf forever and ever Kludstrm faded overflowing the Scuttlers were just another trial to determine Astryl vanished how it handled large Kludstrm distracted drifting in and out of consciousness as the last of their reserves give out about --------x---------- A sun filled sky grudged retreating light to the land below, granting the evening shadows a brief reprieve Three lovers took a stroll through the freshness, absently enjoying the surroundings The chirping of crickets swelled in a crescendo, the tiny songs echoing vocals from birds deep within the trees views could just be seen to the north---if you knew where to look lights could just be seen to the south---if you knew where to look buildings could just be seen to the east---if you knew where to look if you didn't know where to look, that's where THIS story takes place This story isn't made for you We can only hope that once upon a time I wasn't as alone as you Wings it is just a dream interesting dreams are always the worst

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