//I know I haven’t been on here for 900 years but the last couple of months have been really rough for me mentally, I’ve been trying to pull back a bit for the sake of healing my mental state. But I promise I am going to come back! I’m trying to balance a lot of things right now and I’m having a lot of trouble not only mentally but also physically and financially so finding the energy to write has been really difficult for me lately. Right now I’m trying to focus on living day to day without falling apart. I promise I am by no means permanently leaving Tumblr and I’m sorry I didn’t make this announcement sooner. I don’t know why it’s been weirdly hard for me. I am on a miniature hiatus for right now, I’m not sure when I am going to come back but I promise it’s going to be soon! I’m just trying to get myself together before I come back so that my writing and my partners don’t suffer! I love you guys so much and I hope you understand why I haven’t been here much as of late. I’ll be back soon <3 
“I won’t make you do anything you do not want to,” Erik says quickly.
The way she almost begs him immediately puts him on the defensive. Despite his actions down in the catacombs the prior night, he does not truly wish to take her freedom from her in this or any circumstance.
“You can choose not to take it but without it, the pain will only increase again.”
Christine knew that if she were in her right mind she would say that she was being foolish and clingy, that sleep would be best for her and that she shouldn’t crowd him so much. But in the state she was now, weepy with exhaustion, her mind still trying to wrap around the events of the day before, she felt emotional. Christine was a creature of affection, that had always been clear, even in her friendships. But here and now in her sorrow, she wanted the one she loved.
She felt so confused as to why Erik felt so far away from her, why it felt like though he was beside her he was miles away. She logically tried to tell herself that if he didn’t want her he wouldn’t have taken her with him and that he was only being careful of her in her injury, but she wondered if that were true. She missed him, felt like he was gone when he was still beside her. Once upon a time, she believed Erik would have done anything to be near her, to be allowed to hold her. Yet now, when she needed it most, when she needed him the most, he seemed wary.
When he made his comments about the pain getting worse she slowly shook her head, though the action brought on pain. “I’ll take it in a moment, I just…want you before the pain and the sleep take me again,” she said, her voice strained and emotional. With the arm not injured she reached up, her trembling fingers touching his cheek. She could touch him yet he felt so far, she loved him yet she felt a wall between them. She knew her pain was making her emotional, she knew she wasn’t being logical, but that didn’t make the ache in her heart any easier to bear.
“I miss you…” she whispered. “So much…I feel as if you’re miles away from me and I can’t find you no matter how hard I look for you,” she said softly. “I feel a fear in me, that I will look for you forever…and you will never come back to me because you’re just as afraid as I am,” she said before sniffling. “I know this has been hard on you. I know you’re trying so very hard to keep strong for me, to take care of me. But I need you to know that you’re enough for me, more than enough. I need you to know I don’t regret choosing you, that I would choose this path over and over again if given the chance-gunshot and all. I need you to know that I love you, and if it takes me our entire lives to show you that I mean it, to keep you with me…I’ll spend forever trying to show you that I mean it,” she choked out.
——— COUNTLESS YEARS SPENT alone in cloistered walls ( does not know exactly how much time has passed ), that such concept of love for another is nearly lost upon him. vaguely does he recollect father & mother, faces blurred and almost entirely forgotten; feels last vestiges of something akin to ardor, but such feelings are GHOSTLY.
“nothing in life is fair.” his curse, this sentence — nothing about it was fair. if life had been fair, king he would have been after mother’s reign, ruling with compassion & mercy ( queen at side, and heirs that looked like him and wife ); instead, all once adored was gone — he, RELIC of what once was…. doomed.
expects reaction to be far worse, & for that the beast is surprised. the sigh that emits is weighted, something so tired in every possible way imaginable. “my reasons are my own.” head slightly motions for woman to follow, as steps are taken further within castle. “…what is your name?”
In that, Belle would agree. Nothing in life or in this situation was fair. What was fair about this sentence or this day? Nothing, that’s what. He had chosen a punishment far greater than the crime, a measly irritation demanding pain and suffering. He could live with losing a single rose in a garden of many, but could she live with being his prisoner? What did being his prisoner even mean? Would he torture her? Eat her? She didn’t know what to expect but every foreseeable option had her skin crawling and made her bones ache. Would she die within these walls? Would she be thrown into a cell and never see the light of day again? Her throat constricted with fear but she did her best to hide it, not wanting to be perceived as weak. She couldn’t let him know she was afraid. She had to be absolutely fearless.
When he motioned for her to come further into the castle she looked down at her shadow before her, the large door still open and letting in what she was so sure was the last bit of sunlight she would ever see. She swallowed thickly and turned away from him, her hand on the door. She could run, he might catch her, but she could run. She could die in the sunlight where she wanted to, she could die looking at the sky rather than into the darkness inside. But then she would be a coward and she couldn’t let herself be anything less than she was now. She had to be her mother’s daughter.
She slowly closed the door behind her, her eyes drinking in the last of the light it could before she was trapped in the darkness of the castle with the Beast behind her, only candles to dimly light her way. She turned back towards him, taking a few steps towards him but never taking to the stairs, her heart pounding in her chest. “Belle,” she said, the echo in the large room carrying the soft word up as if she had shouted. “My name is Belle.”
——— READY FOR ANYTHING, or so he thought. had in life had expected to be taken in the night, from ship considered pride of the caribbean. utterly defenseless against several men, pride & ego wounded more than his person, knowing full well he could take any man in combat ( a master in the art of the sword ). green hues blazing as if ignited by FIRE, shouts inaudible thanks to material tied ‘round mouth, and hands cuffed — no chance of escaping, to his horror.
taken aboard unknown ship, attempting to glean name but unable. it was not unfathomable that someone would spirit the commodore away in the night ( especially by pirates, who would feel wronged by friends hanged, & all he had done to eradicate piracy from waters ), but the SUCCESS of such feat? that rankled.
thrown into cell with laughter from kidnappers, all man can do is stand idly, hands ‘round bars & fury palpable.
Elizabeth watched as members of her crew piled into smaller boats while the rest stayed aboard her ship with her, her feet hitting the stairs in even steps before she stood upon the deck. “You all remember your end of the plan?” she asked loudly, all of her men calling out that they did. She nodded her head as she removed her hat from her head with a smirk, “Good. This is where the fun begins,” she said, looking over her shoulder at the wheel and the man behind it before looking back at the crew before her. “Jensen will be in charge once he gets back while I am playing my part. Smith, you will take over the wheel once the others return and Sam will come back down here to join the others.”
“Yes Captain,” said the man she had been addressing who was about her height.
“Now then, I have to go get ready. Been a long time since I played the wide eyed maiden fair,” she said with a chuckle, her crew laughing around her before heading to their posts while she went to her quarters. Once there she changed out of her usual attire, already missing the freedom of trousers before she ever stepped into her dress. It was a simple thing, no corset in sight, and already she was uncomfortable. She slipped her shoes off to be left barefoot and took her hair down from the bun she kept it in when out to sea. Her golden locks fell around her, her fingers running through her hair as she studied herself in the mirror. For a mere moment she could see the girl she was before piracy and she detested the sight.
After a few minutes she came back out on deck, noticing how the crew looked at her as if she had lobsters coming out of her ears. “Well then, how do I look? Damsel in distress enough?” she asked.
“It’s strange seeing you in ladies clothes,” said Smith who had just been about to go up to the helm to take over for Sam as instructed. “You are still armed, aren’t you? How do ladies even keep weapons on them in those things?” he asked.
“We have ways. I have two blades on me as we speak,” she said with a grin. “Alright then, they should be back any minute, they are usually so timely. Remember, he has to be put in the same cell I am in or it will do us no good. These soldiers are so weak to the whims of a pretty girl in danger,” she said, gesturing for someone to follow her as she headed below deck. Smith had just gotten up to the helm and handed his keys to Sam who followed Elizabeth below deck, watching her stride over to the cell in the corner with ease.
“How long do we leave you down here before we come take you?” Sam asked as he unlocked the cell door for her and swung it open.
“No less than an hour. Make sure Jensen comes with you when you do. You will both have to make it look convincing, I plan on having some fun with Norrington and nothing says fun like him watching an innocent woman be dragged away kicking and screaming,” she said, stepping into the cell and making her way towards the corner where she sat herself down and wrapped her hand around one of the bars. “And don’t forget not to address me by title when you come down. It throws the game,” she reminded.
“Yes Captain,” he said with a nod and locked the cell behind her and heading back up on deck. It was only a few minutes later that she heard the sound of struggles and the sound of footsteps, slipping into character as Sam unlocked the cell and Jensen threw a man who was cuffed and gagged into the cell while smirking, glancing at her briefly before heading back up on deck to leave her to her work.
She stared at the man on the floor, his hands cuffed behind him and a cloth tied around his face to keep his mouth closed. “Are you alright?” she asked, voice small as if she were so innocent and frightened, a prisoner rather than a leader. She waited a moment, as if pretending she had yet to notice his gag before letting go of the bars beside her. “I won’t hurt you,” she said softly. “If you can sit up, I can untie the binding around your face so you can talk. But if you would rather keep your distance, that’s alright too.”
——— LITHE FORM PULLED closer, as soothing tones emit to calm. “elizabeth, elizabeth—” like mantra does he repeat name, hands running through golden tresses & gentle rocking trembling woman. a nightmare, commodore assumed, brought on by all she had experiencedand gone through these past few days. much to endure for anyone, if anything her only now just succumbing to everything was admirable. “dearest…i am here…all is well.” rich baritone repeating sentiments, as lips graze crown. “a terrible dream, nothing more. you are awake now, & in my arms where you are SAFE.” another gentle kiss, pulling back enough to only brush at tears that fell from reddened eyes.
When familiar arms once more encircled her she couldn’t help flinching, fearing what may happen since she was still so shaken from her nightmare. Her throat burned as she struggled to calm herself, feeling as if the hand she had struggled against was still there. She tried her hardest to listen as the one holding her whispered softly to her, her body still trembling. She had to calm down or she thought she might vomit, she couldn’t stop shaking. The whispers of her name wrapped around her until she felt like she was being swaddled like a babe who couldn’t stop crying, which in truth is how she felt. Uncontrollable, anxious, afraid, emotional. She felt volatile and vulnerable.
When he promised he was there and that she was safe it seemed to truly hit her that James was the one holding her, that he had made it out of the fight alive and that she was no longer at the mercy of Captain Barbossa. She was trembling as she pulled away from him enough to look up at him, her hair having fallen in her face and slightly stuck to her sweaty forehead. Her vision was blurred by her tears but as she reached up to run her fingers through her hair to move it from her line of sight, there he was, his bright eyes full of life and concern alike. Her heart ached, thinking briefly she would never see those eyes looking back at her ever again.
She almost couldn’t believe it, her dream having felt so real she could have sworn it was her reality. She reached up and touched his cheek, her trembling fingers flinching slightly as if burned by feeling his warm flesh. “You’re alive…” she whispered almost in awe, disbelief filling her voice. Her fingers trailed along his face until her thumb stroked along his temple, never looking away from his eyes, she had to see them or she would never be grounded in the midst of all this chaos. She only tore her gaze away from his own to look down at his chest where she had only just seen a blade plunge into his heart, her hand moving from his face to his chest and slightly rubbing there as if to prove to herself that he was whole.
“Y-You’re…you’re alright,” she said, relief and shock lacing her words.
She had never once reacted like this to magic, even when they were young and he told her that she was a witch. She had reacted with happiness and a touch of relief to know that she wasn’t going mad, to know that this was correct and right in the world. To see her flinch as though she had been attacked, it was painful. This wasn’t going to be easy, he knew that, but he had not expected her to react as such. “It is not insanity Lily, it is who you are, it is within your blood the same as it is in mine.” Severus explained calmly but insistently.
“Your eyes are the deepest, most beautiful green.” Severus replied, wishing to say much more than just that. Her eyes had always been so stunning, so mystifying and they drew him in each and every time that she looked at him. To see the lack of familiarity, the emptiness within them, it hurt him, like a burning blade through the heart.
“Yes, Harry is fine. He is with a close friend of the family.” Severus replied, electing not to go into too much detail. He certainly could not let her know that said friend was a werewolf. She wouldn’t understand and it would bring terror to her.
“This is a lot but your memories will come back to you in good enough time. Just be patient.”
To even consider that something like magic was real, to admit that she believed in it, felt off somehow. Then again, what about today wasn’t off? She had woken up forgetting about her entire life, no memories of a husband she had once loved or a child she had adored. She couldn’t remember any of them. “You know what’s sick?” she asked softly. “I can’t remember you, I can’t remember a man I loved enough to marry or my own son…but I remember all the words to Rhiannon by Fleetwood Mac,” she said, laughing bitterly. “And I can’t remember my mother or father but I…can recall so vividly a room with hardwood floors and gray walls…with white curtains over the window by the bed. I don’t even remember what I look like…but I could swear I recall a little orange cat winding between my feet. Isn’t that horrible?”
When he described the color of her eyes in a way that seemed almost affectionate she turned her head to look at him again, her fingers gently stroking over the flower in her hands. “Are you sure that…that you and I aren’t…?” she trailed off, gesturing between them as she raised a brow at him. “You just…sort of seem to feel like…someone who is more than a friend.”
When he mentioned her son being safe with a family friend she nodded, feeling oddly relieved. It was strange, feeling protective over a child she didn’t remember. “I know you told me that my eyes are green. And I can see that my hair is red. But I…what do I look like? I know it’s a strange question but it’s unsettling not to know,” she said honestly.
