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abhainnwhump · 3 months

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IMYM Chapter 17: The Battle for Birdtale: Nightmare

(Content warnings: Gore, genocide, body horror, decapitation, dehumanization, murder, child murder/mutilation, minor character death, cannibalism, organs used in ways organs should not be used. Somehow, this has a fluffy ending. I don’t know either.)

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“Today’s a big day for you, my little doll.” Nightmare said as he stroked Ribbon’s skull.

The doll kneeled before his throne with a smile on his face. It was a refreshing change from his constant moping. Nightmare decided to get him a teal pillow so he didn’t hurt his knees and legs. He had been shockingly compliant and affectionate since his surgeries—following every order, doing extra chores, giving him kisses every morning, and telling him how much he loved him. He even smiled and thanked him during all punishments. When Nightmare punished him with the white room, Ribbon didn’t fight back at all. Nightmare was almost concerned because he didn’t hear anything, and it. The day ended and he let Ribbon go. But instead of the shaking, begging, and crying he grew to expect, he was only met with shaking. Shaking and giggling this time. Ribbon snuggled up to him and thanked him over and over. Nightmare pushed him off, then he spent the rest of the day in his office. He wanted nothing to do with him and even he was disturbed with his behavior.

Nightmare assumed it was manipulation. Or Dust worked too close to his nonexistent brain. Ink was a prankster at heart, and if any of his old personality remained in Ribbon, he was pulling a trick. He proved less than a month ago it was a trick. Ribbon was too perfect too quick. So that’s why he came up with a plan for him to test if his loyalty was true.

“We’re going to put your skills to the test. I have the perfect AU for you to prove your worth. It’s an easy one; these monsters put up little fight. All you need to do is spread negativity and harm people. And I can see how lonely you are, you’re a very social person, so it would be healthy for you to see other people again.”

“Okay!” Ribbon said in a chipper tone, pulling the charm on his neck. Nightmare adored the amount of worship in his eye lights, fake or not. However, something was off this time.

“Is there something else you want to say?” Nightmare asked.

Ribbon paused, lowering his head. “Um, yes. I love you more than anything, but you’re right, I’m lonely. Is it okay if I make some new friends?”

Nightmare considered it. He didn’t want anyone weaving themselves into his doll’s head. When he said it’d be healthy, he meant to further prove they are enemies. They could give him silly ideas or make him question their relationship. Or worse, encourage him to escape and disobey him. The dark king knew what he was doing was wrong, but the truth is . . .

He didn’t care.

“No, no. You’ve never had a good choice in who you hang out with.” Ribbon’s smile slid. Nightmare pat his head. “Listen, you don’t need friends. You’re too close to perfection, having others to talk to will only bring you down. Your mind isn’t trained enough to know the difference between good and bad influences. It’s my job as your boyfriend to keep you safe. Do you understand?”

Ribbon stared straight ahead for a few moments, then nodded. “Thank you, you’re-you’re right. I’m sorry.”

“Of course. Run along now.” Nightmare leaned back on his throne as Ribbon stood and left. He had mixed feelings about his personality change. On one hand, it was refreshing to have such a troublesome soul finally be obedient and quiet. And to be happy about it. On the other, it disturbed him.

The Lord of Negativity didn’t have the time or interest to think over the moralities of a situation like this. He had an AU to destroy and corrupt. Sighing, Nightmare stood up from his throne and went to make last-minute preparations.

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Ribbon flipped his parasol around and shot a black paint bullet in the air. It disappeared into the atmosphere, but Nightmare could sense the created barrier. He smiled. No one gets in, no one gets out. Only Ribbon would be able to break it.

The Villian Sans Squad and Ribbon surveyed the surrounding AU. They hid behind a massive boulder and looked over it. No one seemed to have suspected anything, but there were a few nervous glances at the sky. Nightmare squinted. If you used enough focus, you could see a solid black barricade in the sky.

He glanced over at Ribbon. For the mission, Nightmare deliberately dressed him in extra cute clothes. A soft white blouse, a pale blue skirt with suspenders, and matching fuzzy boots. The doll caught him eyeing his outfit and blushed. He moved a little closer to Nightmare.

“What’s . . . plan?” Horror asked, pushing a pine branch out of his face.

“We kill everyone, duh,” Killer answered.

Nightmare pinched his nasal bridge. “No, you idiots. We’ve been over this a hundred times. You’re not going to kill anyone, just maim them enough so they wish they were dead. Oh, don’t give me the puppy eyes. Fine, one kill for every five people. Then I will drop in the special attack, the corruption. Does everyone remember the sign?”

Dust did an impression of an Eastern Screech owl. He kept it quiet so no one outside the team would hear.

“There we go,” Nightmare said. “Once I give the signal, we gather at the King’s Perch and leave. Killer, you are to plant the banner. Take whatever you want and show no mercy. Are you ready?”

“Ready, boss!” Killer exclaimed. He teleported off and the rest of the Murder Time Trio followed him.

Nightmare was about to follow when he felt something on his cheekbone. He turned to the side. Ribbon pulled away from kissing him. He hid his little face away. He pulled his string. “I’m sorry. I thought you would like it for good luck.”

Nightmare’s mouth twitched. “That was . . . sweet. But don’t do it again. Save any affection until after the mission. Do you understand? You can’t mess this up.”

“Yes, Nighty.”

Nightmare gave him a head pat. “Good doll. Now that we have that settled, go spread some negativity.”

The entire team attacked without remorse. Killer teleported and sliced. He went without a pattern, cutting the throats of random citizens. They were too shallow to cause serious damage. Friends and families watched as their loved ones fell to the ground, writhing in pain. They screamed and ran, but not without several cuts all over their bodies. Killer laughed.

Dust eyed a winged tortoise and shot him through the arm, kicking another monster in the stomach. He shot fields of bones to cripple others, preventing them from using their arms and legs to fight or run. He was more careful than Killer in making sure the monsters were only injured and not killed. A bird monster tried to stab Dust, but he caught the monster’s spear and snapped its wrist with his magic.

Horror’s attacks were by far the goriest. He swung his axe, amputated limbs and body parts, and chopped monsters down the middle. The members of the Royal Guard fought him off, but Horror was practically a tank. A bloodthirsty tank. He tore into the stomach of Dogaressa before ripping out her intestines and using them to strangle Dogamy. He stomped on his back and stabbed his axe into another monster, twisting it to damage every organ. Nightmare had to be sure not to get blood stains on his suit.

Ribbon hid in the shadows. He broke sticks to draw attention and stir paranoia. Then he would jump monsters, pinning them down and freezing them with paint. Ribbon took his parasol, stabbed monsters through their limbs, or knocked them out. He yipped and opened the canopy to shield himself from the blood, dirt, and grime. He left his opponents gasping for air in a dazed yet shocked state. Ribbon kept looking at Nightmare for approval. Nightmare nodded at him and he would go back to fight.

Nightmare did what he did best, spread despair. His tendrils wrapped around souls and strangled them until the positivity drained out. His aura made the panicking monsters feel worse. He walked casually, enjoying the sharp metallic scent of blood and the screams of agony. He chuckled under his breath and held his hands out in front of him. The cruel magic he used to torture his twin not long ago started the size of a gold ball. As Nightmare absorbed more of the negativity, the corruption leaked out of his hands. Spreading onto the ground it began to claim everything, monster-made or natural. What did Dream call this? Ah yes, a Code Purple. But Nightmare’s power had grown since the last one.

Along with terrorizing the monsters, the VSS burned down homes and the land. Horror destroyed the most, having the largest stature and weapon to work with. He smashed wood with his axe. Ribbon focused on destroying smaller things with his paint and parasol. He knocked glass and ceramic objects off and covered everything with black paint.

Killer shot monsters fleeing through the sky with his knives. They all fell either to the ground with serious injuries or into the void below. Screams and crackling filled the air. Nightmare sensed a surge of- well, not positivity, but something close. Hope and determination. He melted himself into a puddle and swept through the ground.

He found the source. It was from two larger monsters. The first was a tall skeleton wearing a battle body, red leg warmers, goggles, and an orange hooded cloak. His white feather wings were almost larger than he was. The second was an effeminate robot with a silver body, talons for feet, and luminant pink wings and tail. Papion and Mettacon, Birdtale Papyrus and Mettaton respectively, stood guard. They protected a group of monsters from corruption.

Nightmare stayed in the shadows, debating his move. He looked around and spotted Horror nearby, focusing on destroying a home. He put his fingers to his mouth and whistled. Horror turned around and Nightmare pointed at the group with a tendril.

Papion’s head shot in the direction of Nightmare’s whistle and he held a bone in one hand. The bone missed and Horror teleported to dodge. He slashed Papion with his axe but he missed by a few inches. The little monsters behind him screamed and fled the scene.

The taller skeleton stared at him and shouted. “HEY!”

Mettacon held his blaster arm forward and fired a beam of white light at Horror. He blocked it with a Gaster Blaster and a grin.

Papion looked shocked. “WHY DO YOU LOOK SO MUCH LIKE MY BROTHER?”

Horror silenced him with a slash of his ax. Papion’s head flew to the ground and his body crumbled. Nightmare set his sights on Mettacon and attacked from behind. His tendrils wrapped around his arms and legs and pulled. Mettacon squirmed and his peacock tail flared.

Wires ripped and sparks flew in the air. Mettacon's limbs flew across the air and crashed into dents and electricity. While he didn’t die, the lights on his eyes flickered out and he fell. His torso and head lay empty on the ground. He would need someone to power him again, but given Nightmare’s observations, there was no one left for that.

“Boss!” Dust called. “Killer cornered the Sans, Frisk, and Undyne of this AU together. They’re in the pit over there. We’re goin’ to attack all of them at once. You comin’?”

The Lord of Negativity chuckled. “Of course I’m going with.” He looked around. “Where did Ribbon go?”

Dust shrugged. “I saw him somewhere around here. He bashed someone’s head into a wall and ran off.”

Nightmare kept that in mind. The amount of negativity must be throwing off his powers. He would find him before they left the AU. Nightmare followed Dust and they made it to the pit where Killer stood above three monsters.

“Hey now, we can talk this out.” Aviar shrugged, seemingly unfazed at the five murderers approaching them. He, Lark, and Kyne edged together in a circle. Lark clung to his leg; Aviar shielded them with his wings like a brother to a younger sibling. “Someone is going to end up with egrets. And call me foul but I don’t think anyone wants to swallow that.” He chuckled weakly at his own bad puns.

Kyne rolled her eyes. “By order of the Royal Guard, I command you to stop your assault!” She growled, staying on task. Her spear pointed at Nightmare. He rolled his eye. As if an Undyne’s weapon could damage him. It would have the effect of a wood splinter.

Nightmare laughed. “You may be a guard, but I am a king. If you’re wise, then you’ll kneel and surrender. In exchange, I will make your corruptions painless.”

“Never!” Kyne growled. She summoned a second spear to block Aviar and Lark. Lark especially looked terrified, shaking with a terrified aura. They looked on the brink of tears. Aviar kneeled and whispered something in their ear. Lark hugged him, Aviar rubbing their head.

Birdtale’s Sans looked up. He held his left wing up, almost as if it could be a weapon on its own. “Again, listen. We don’t need any violence. You guys have already done enough.”

Killer leaped down from the rocky perch he stood on. “Yeah, and here’s the thing. We want to cause violence. It’s fun, you know?”

Turning their trembling lips into a scowl, Lark spoke in signs. Nightmare understood sign language as he found it fascinating to study; he was fluent. Lark called him a curse he chose not to repeat.

Aviar chuckled at Lark’s vulgar language. “My thoughts exactly, kid.” He looked over at Kyne and ruffled his wings. “We can take on these guys. There’s only four of them, we can each take one and team up at the end.”

“No, there’s a fifth member, I can sense them.” Kyne aimed her spear toward the pine trees. Nightmare couldn’t locate Ribbon. Not his aura or any noise. He- no, he took away his ability to make portals. He must be somewhere else right now. Nightmare considered calling him, but he preferred the element of surprise.

“Damn it.” Aviar looked around at the killers and turned to Lark. He held their shoulders and lowered himself to match their height. “Frisk, you need to RESET. I know, I know, we made a promise, but these guys are bad news. I kinda overestimated us, sorry. If we RESET, they’ll get caught and disappear forever. I think. Eh, it’s our only chance. Birds of a feather stick together, remember?”

The child held their hands up to argue, but they didn’t and took Avair’s hands instead. With their lower lip trembling, they squeezed their eyes shut and focused. A rectangle button appeared in thin air. An orange box surrounded the word RESET in orange letters.

“Nope!” Killer shot a Gaster Blaster at it and the button shattered. He shot a second blaster at Lark. They ducked and dodged, rolling on the ground.

“Run, punk!” Kyne shouted. Lark was frozen in place. Nightmare fed from their negativity, doubt, and anxiety. Kyne soughed and gave the kid a push, firing spears at Dust. He shot his pistols back. Their attacks either missed, collided in the air, or rarely hit their opponent. Lark managed to run and regain their composure and wit.

Nightmare went after Lark. He harnessed their negative emotions and took them to the extreme. They fell to their knees, shaking and crying from stress. A grin forming on his face, Nightmare shot his tendrils out and wrapped around their arms, pulling. Lark struggled and gasped under the pressure.

Kyne continued to stab her spears against Dust and Horror. She blocked Horror’s ax and formed a wall to ward off Dust. Horror brought his weapon down over her head and the two clashed. One of her spears stabbed through Dust’s arms and he hissed. Horror growled at seeing Dust in pain.

The butcher shoved his axe through her lower leg, dragging out a long slash through her flesh. Kyne’s muscles and red tissue were exposed; she lost her balance. Blood spread into the grass beneath her, followed by cries of pain.

“Poor girl, do you need a hand?” Nightmare asked with mockery in his voice. He hovered his tendrils above her body and wrapped them tight. Bone snapping and screaming filled the air. Red blood dripped through his tendrils. Nightmare swung his tendrils and threw her off the edge of Birdtale’s cliffs.

Kyne grabbed the edge of the bluff, but her injured body couldn’t hold her weight. Her fingers slipped and she tumbled off the edge of the cliff. Her body crashed against the rock once before she fell into the abyss. Nightmare watched her fall with a calm half-smile and his hands behind his back. He didn’t even hear her hit the bottom.

Lark gasped and covered their mouth. One of their closest friends was gone. The skeletons turned their attention to them. Dust teleported behind Lark and fired a Gaster Blaster. They ducked out of the way with the tips of their wings charred. They pat them against the ground to kill the purple flames. Then they pulled out their knife, looking around to figure out who to fight. They chose the worst option.

Lark charged at Horror.

They flew around him as their soul glowed an even brighter red. Lark waited for Horror to turn around before throwing the knife down from the sky. It stabbed him in the shoulder.

Horror picked it out as if it were nothing but a splinter. He turned to Lark and growled, baring his teeth. He charged at them with his axe. Lark covered their mouth and flew into the air. Horror grabbed their ankle and dragged them back to the ground.

Lark gasped and fell, ripping their pants and scraping their knees against the ground. They rolled to dodge Horror’s axe strikes while he still held their ankle. Trying to keep their hand from being chopped off, they grabbed their knife from nearby.

Lark attempted to stab Horror again, but he was three times their size and more experienced. He picked the knife out of their hand and tossed it aside. With a whimper, the child tried to escape, but they were too slow and weak. The damaged ankle weakened them further. That’s when Horror sliced his ax clean across their neck.

Their bloody body crumpled to the ground and their head rolled in the opposite direction. Their blood spewed across the grass and tainted it dark red in seconds.

“KID!” Aviar screamed. He flew to Lark’s body and cradled it. Their bright red soul levitated from their chest. He reached out for it, but Horror shattered it with his ax. Aviar extended his wings and grabbed Horror’s turtleneck. He shot into the sky.

He punched him in the face over and over. His face contorted with rage. Horror wrapped his large hand around Aviar’s neck and flipped them around. He used his weight to overpower Aviar and force his wings to his bend, making them both go down at high speed. White streaming marks blew around them as they fell fast and crashed into the rocks. Horror leaped off Aviar, using his body as a cushion and a springboard.

The bird monster crawled out of the rocks, coughing and scowling. Scratches covered his face and hands from falling onto the rubble. A long slash on his foreskull drew blood down his face. Aviar panted, standing up on his shaky legs. His right wing was bent at an unnatural angle. Despite everything, he refused to back down. A stick cracked, followed by a giggle.

Nightmare narrowed his eye and searched for the sound. He spotted a glint of pastel blue in the blacked trees and grinned. There he was. He saw a chance and called out to him. “Ribbon, come on out, sweetie. Aviar wants to play.”

“Ribbon?” Aviar’s expression changed from anger to confusion. “Who’s Ribbon?”

Seconds after he asked the question, Ribbon jumped into sight. He kicked Aviar in the face and flipped. Aviar clutched his face and looked up, eye sockets growing larger at the black mark on Ribbon’s cheekbone.

“Wait, Ink? You’re Ribbon?” Aviar stepped back in horror. “What the hell happened to you? What’s going on? What are you wearing?”

Ribbon stopped and stared at him with a strange, confused look in his eye lights. Nightmare narrowed his gaze, monitoring his actions. This was his test. If Ribbon defended Aviar, he’d know he faked his loyalty and obedience again. Nightmare would punish him relentlessly. Sewing buttons into his eye sockets sounded fair.

Instead of what he was expecting, Ribbon broke into a hysteric haunting giggle. He charged at Aviar. The raven flew into the air. Ribbon leaped to one of the rocks and made platforms out of paint to keep up with him. He ran down a long platform and tackled Aviar out of the sky. Aviar’s wings and Ribbon’s paint softened the blow of the fall. Ribbon landed on top of Aviar.

“Don’t run, play with me!” Ribbon slowly turned his head to the side. “Please? I’m so lonely.”

Aviar went paralyzed under his watch but soon gained his wits. He threw a punch. Ribbon dodged. Aviar rolled over and switched their position, pinning the doll to the ground.

Aviar forced Ribbon to look at him. He didn’t have his joking tone. “Buddy, can you hear me? Are you listening? That guy clearly did something to you, and I don’t know what, but you gotta wake up! I can help you and we’ll get your friends. But you need to stopfightingand calm down.”

Ribbon stared at him and shivered at his words. Aviar touched his cheekbone with his wing and he screamed. “No! No! No! No! Stop! Stop! You’re lying! I don’t have any friends!” He formed a wall of bones made of black paint and fired them at Aviar, then he hid under his parasol. He shielded himself with his wings, making them bleed and rip when the bones hit. He screamed. Lowering his wings, all the empathy drained from Aviar’s expression.

“On second thought, I take back what I said. I don’t know who you are, but you’re not Ink anymore.” Aviar summoned a Gaster Blaster with a heavy breath. His magic supply was almost gone. The stress and battle were too much for him. He stretched out his wings, flapped in place, and attempt to flee. Ribbon shot a puddle of black paint at his feet to hold him in place. Aviar gasped and coughed with tears of delicious defeat in his eyes.

Dust walked toward him, spinning a bone attack in his hand. He grabbed Aviar by the scruff of his neck and traced the brim of his wings. “Sheesh, your wings are a mess. How about I preen them for you, free of charge?”

Before Aviar could protest, Dust took each wing and sliced them repeatedly. Black down fell in messy piles. The raven let out a bloodcurdling scream, music to Nightmare’s nonexistent ears. He kicked him and he fell to the ground. Aviar ran a hand over what was left. His wings were bare, skeletal, and with only a few feathers remaining. Blood pooled around him. Aviar would’ve cried if he wasn’t frozen with shock. Wings to a Birdtale monster were as important as shelter to a hibernating animal. Take those away and they’re helpless.

Aviar flapped the remains but stayed on the ground. He gritted his teeth to repress a whine. He switched to his back and crawled backward, trying for one more chance at mercy. “C’mon, you’re a Sans too, right? You’re me from another world. You had to have friends, or at least a brother. What happened to your Papyrus? Is this what he would’ve-”

Dust howled a battle cry and shot him in the chest over and over. Aviar screamed again. The murderer’s blue jacket was stained red and purple. Dust panted once his gun ran out of bullets and blood splattered the scene.

Nightmare crouched in front of the fallen bird, one arm on his knee. He held the other hand out toward him. Aviar cringed as his white, upside-down soul flew from his chest and into the dark king’s grasp. Nightmare teased him, squeezing and releasing it, making Aviar wince and moan in pain.

“Would you like to know what I’m about to do with this?” Nightmare channeled his magic into the soul. He learned from his mistakes with Dream.

“What?” The raven grunted.

“I’m going to give you a little upgrade, as it were. Don’t worry, this will only hurt a little.” He forced his finger bones into the soul until it cracked. Soul magic dripped onto his fingers.

Aviar twitched and spasmed as if having a seizure. Liquid negativity leaked from his eye sockets, nasal bone, and mouth. Bones shattered, turning black and dark magenta. What remained of his wings flapped uncontrollably. His soul turned black like his friends up above. He couldn’t even scream due to the poison consuming his voice and body. He tried, and black liquid spilled onto the dirt.

Nightmare returned the soul to the corrupted monster’s chest. It shifted onto its knees, its mouth hanging open.

“You . . . monster.” The once Aviar wheezed. It sounded like he was gurgling oil.

Nightmare stood up without a single care. “Tell me something I don’t know.”

Everyone in this AU was either dead or a zombie. Not a single positive emotion remained. It was a perfect negative battery, and that meant their job was complete. Pressing two fingers against his mouth, Nightmare made the owl screech. Horror took attention first, his senses were the strongest thanks to his AU. He abandoned Lark’s arm that he was eating and trudged over to his boss. His mouth and ax still dripped with their blood as he wiped it off. Nightmare peered over at the carcass. Lark’s body was barely recognizable. Massive pieces of flesh were torn off, revealing bones, ligaments, and organs. They were missing their sleeves.

Killer teleported to Nightmare. Dust scouted the territory before he joined them. He reshifted his baseball cap so the brim would shadow his face. And last, Ribbon put his parasol away and brushed off his skirt. He cringed at bloodstains, but he didn’t fuss too much before walking to the team. He looked up at Nightmare and smiled, barely able to hide his giggles.

Nightmare hummed and turned around to look at Dust. The murderer teleported up to King’s Perch and pulled a banner out of his jacket. He grabbed a stick and stabbed it into the ground before attaching the banner to him. Nightmare walked over and set a tendril on his shoulder. “Dust, I noticed you had a little . . . episode back there. Is everything alright now?”

“M’fine, boss. Don’t worry about me.” He lowered his head and turned away. He walked over to where Killer, Horror, and Ribbon stood.

“I see . . .” Nightmare wasn’t satisfied with the answer, but he could always talk to him later. There was another member of the team he was more concerned about right now, his little doll. Nightmare joined Killer, Horror, Dust, and Ribbon. Ribbon looked the most excited, which made Nightmare pleased. He laughed with the others as they shared jokes and exaggerated kills. His injuries or fear didn’t seem to be affecting him. Nightmare wrapped his tendrils around his waist and pulled him away from the others.

“Did you have a good time, little one?” Nightmare asked.

Ribbon nodded quickly and smiled brighter. He pulled his string. His voice was ever higher when he was happy. “Yes! Yes! This was so much fun! Can we do it again soon?”

Nightmare booped his nasal bone, which sent Ribbon into giggles. “You will be on plenty more missions in the future, my doll. Harming people is so much more fun than helping them, don’t you agree?”

Ribbon thought about his answer. “Hm . . . mm-hm! Helping people is boring, I don’t know what I was thinking with the Stars! Besides, when you’re happy, I’m happy too, and this makes you really happy.”

Nightmare kissed his forehead. “Good dollie, that’s what I want to hear. You’ve done such a good job and I’m proud. Very proud.” Nightmare cupped his chin and kissed him. Ribbon melted in the touch as his hands covered his. Nightmare was rougher with his kisses than Ribbon was. Nightmare pulled away to speak. “You have done an excellent job on today’s mission and have been remarkably obedient. You have proven yourself loyal and true. I’m proud of you; you’ve made immense progress and are no longer the arrogant prick I took in a few months ago.

“Really? You’re proud of me?” Ribbon’s aura lit up with intense positivity. Nightmare cringed at it but refused to let it show.

“Indeed. You had a chance to betray me and run away, but you refused to take it. Such good behavior and compliance deserve to be rewarded.”

His positivity grew. “With what?”

“Something I believe you will enjoy. I will allow you to sleep with me tonight and you may have all the gentle affection you desire.”

Ribbon stopped breathing, and didn’t realize he did until he fell into a coughing fit. Black paint sputtered into his hand. His eye lights glowed as yellow stars, then they switched back to pink hearts.

Nightmare raised a browbone. He decided to tease Ribbon. “I’m assuming that’s a no?”

“No! I mean, yes! I mean, oh mint-chip biscuits.” Ribbon facepalmed. “Yes, I want to sleep with you. I’m just excited you asked. Thank you! Thank you!” He hugged Nightmare and bounced, saying ‘thank you’ over and over.

“You’re welcome,” Nightmare said. “I only have one request. You are to wear the outfit I assign to you. Well, two requests. The other is to keep your positivity in check because you’re giving me a migraine.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” The drop in positivity cleared Nightmare’s head. Ribbon didn’t mind needing to lower his energy. “I’ll wear whatever you want me to!”

Nightmare nodded, still so proud of his toy as Killer called out to him. “Boss! Are you done sweet-talking Ribbon or are we going to get going? This place reeks.” He kicked the corrupted body of another monster. The hate inside his soul and eyes made him almost immune to the effects.

“Ah, of course. My apologies, I was distracted.” Nightmare chuckled, arm wrapped around Ribbon’s as he opened a portal. The team gathered together and walked through the portal. The Birdtale citizens were left to suffer from corruption, or they were lucky and died. Either way, Nightmare had a new AU to use as a negativity battery.

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Tap. Tap.

The dark lord peered up from his book. Ribbon rapped his knuckles on the doorway to attract his attention. He wore the lacey pink nightgown he ordered- encouraged him to. Between his outfit and shy, reclusive stance, he looked innocent and helpless. Docile.

Nightmare smiled, setting his novel and monocle on the nightstand. “Ah, Ribbon. Don’t be afraid, come in.”

Ribbon shuffled inside and looked around the room in awe. Nightmare understood why. His bedroom was almost twice as large as the Murder Time Trio’s and he was the only person allowed in. Ribbon was never allowed inside before. Most of the space belonged to a king-sized bed with high poles and draped black curtains. A bookshelf was tucked by the farthest wall with Nightmare’s favorites. The titles went back hundreds of years and the condition of the books reflected that. A triangle glass door opened to a balcony that looked out onto the mountains and forests outside. The stars weren’t as bright as Outertale’s, but they were enough.

Nightmare opened part of the blankets. Ribbon laid down and nestled into his side; the doll’s body was warm against his. Ribbon eyed the corner of his mouth. Forming a half smile, Nightmare didn’t mind indulging in his desires. He kissed him softly, letting Ribbon melt into it. He went for his neck, pressing kisses and bites on the bone. Despite being hard enough to leave marks, he didn’t draw any blood; he was careful about his fangs on him. Ribbon gasped and giggled when he grazed a sensitive spot. Necks were a vulnerable spot for anyone and allowing him access revealed trust. It was almost humorous. No more than four months ago, Ribbon would never let him this close, especially in such an intimate way. Even onemonth ago he’d be trying to push him off. But he knew better than to try anything now, he finally learned to be good.

After several minutes of kissing, cuddling, and sweet nothings, Nightmare let him go. Ribbon lay on the pillow, still snuggled against his shoulder and giving him adoring doe eyes. He looked over at the book on Nightmare’s nightstand. “What’s that?”

Nightmare followed his gaze and lowered his tendril to see. “It’s about this group of humans who battle monsters and- well, how about you listen to the story and learn yourself? I have no problem reading to you.”

Ribbon tilted his head and looked curious, but he pulled back. “I would love that! But wouldn’t you have to start over? I don’t want to be annoying.”

Nightmare pet his head with his tendril. “How considerate, but you don’t need to worry. I’ve read this book eleven times and the sequels more. I know every twist and turn, you won’t be bothering me at all. Now, settle in and enjoy yourself, that’s an order.”

Ribbon lay his skull on his shoulder as he followed the pages Nightmare read aloud. One of his tendrils wrapped around Ribbon’s shoulders and he smiled. He was silent for the entirety and, though Nightmare refused to admit it, it was pleasant. The doll made good company when he wasn’t speaking. The pull-string voice box was an excellent idea. By chapter two, Ribbon yawned and closed his eye sockets, dozing off in chapter three.

Nightmare chuckled once he started snoring. His voice surgery made them sound less irritating and more sweet and quiet. His tendrils tucked him in so he was comfortable. Ribbon was completely at his mercy. He kissed his foreskull before bookmarking their place and turning off the lamp. “Oh, Ink. If only your friends could see you now.”

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bloodgulchblog · 2 years

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Jul 'Mdama was valid because:

He started from an at least somewhat reasonable place of being wary of the Arbiter allying with humans more than anything. He wasn't one of the guys clinging to Forerunner worship or Covenant loyalist ideas (though to be fair can we honestly blame people for not all taking life-altering shocks as well as Thel 'Vadam?), his concerns were pretty rational. Humans could be incredibly clever and dangerous when cornered, and after 30 years of genocidal war? They had every reason to hate the Sangheili. This was not natural top 10 anime bromances material here.

As a result of those concerns, Jul tripped into allying with the Servants of the Abiding Truth because when he was lowkey side-eyeing the other Sangheili like "does anyone else think this sounds bananas?" the one who said "Yes, and we want to kill the Arbiter about it and are getting our shit together" was Avu Med 'Telcam, their leader. Unlike Jul, these guys were intensely religious Forerunner worshippers. This was not Jul's style, but you take allies where you can.

Even then, Jul did not completely trust 'Telcam and was suspicious about where the zealot was getting weapons from. Jul was right to be suspicious about it, too, because 'Telcam was being drip fed weapons by (dun dun dunnn) ONI. ONI was cheerfully using supporting the Servants of the Abiding Truth to make sure the political situation on Sanghelios didn't stabilize too easily for their liking. ONI fed Sangheili infighting to keep Sanghelios fractured and weak.

Unfortunately for Jul, while he was spying on 'Telcam to figure this out, Kilo Five (Serin Osman's personal team) noticed and captured him. (Without 'Telcam knowing.)

Jul, who was already wary of humans and expected them to be vicious and untrustworthy, had his proof that they were pulling some shady shit. Then, as a captive, he was beaten around multiple times with a cattle prod before Kilo Five handed him off to the research station founded at Onyx. In addition to being questioned and outfitted with a bomb harness, ONI was trying to genetically engineer a strain of the Sangheili's staple grain crop that would sicken them. They had plans to unleash it on Sanghelios so it would wipe out the native species and starve the planet. Yes, really. They tested this on Jul and it made him incredibly, violently ill. (Pretty sure he never got to the bottom of that one himself, but it does absolutely nothing to prove him wrong.)

Additionally, when Jul went missing and was never heard from again, his wife (Raia, who had humored him with his anti-Arbiter project but had never taken it seriously) went looking for him. Unfortunately, in the course of doing that it meant she got involved with the Servants of the Abiding Truth. When the Servants finally attacked the Swords of Sanghelios, Raia was on board one of the Servants' ships. When humanity aided the Arbiter in the ensuing space battle, that ship was shot down by humans and Raia was killed. Jul later found out about her death and that absolutely did not help.

Finally, Jul managed to escape. In addition to arguing from the need for exercise to keep himself healthy enough to continue being a useful prisoner, he convinced the ONI researchers that he was actually a very religious man (though he wasn't) and he wanted to spend time contemplating the Forerunner sites on Onyx. Believing there was no way he could escape (and, once again, having outfitted him with a literal bomb vest) they put a Huragok in charge of babysitting him and let him outside on a limited basis. Inside one of the Forerunner structures, he found a portal that led off Onyx to a Sangheili colony world where the locals still hadn't even heard the war was over. He told them about the Arbiter and they were all "yeah that's fucked we don't like that either," then it turned out that planet had directions to Requiem on it. You know, a place that the Forerunner ruins warned contained a sleeping legend that had known only war, and hated the humans...

Well. After being captured, brutalized, poisoned, and discovering that humans had killed his wife, I feel like the choices Jul made when presented with this opportunity were not surprising.

#halo #jul 'mdama #the kilo five books are a mess lol #it feels like they internally do not understand how rational jul's response to this is #meanwhile they spend a lot of their runtime proving him right #Some of this might be slightly off bc I've been reading a lot and I lose detail sometimes but #I'll stand by the bulk of it and the general feel of the thing being mostly right #sangheili #kilo five trilogy #halo: the thursday war

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magic-hcs · 2 years

Text

✨✨A Snippet with Sky!✨✨

Warnings: angst, mentions of death, mentions of genocide, guilt, mentions to resets.

✨Eyes Cast To The Sky✨

A glow of sky blue cast upon the golden colored tiles of the hall. Rays of light filter through the yellow windows, painting everything in a hue of a beautiful deep orange. It mocks him with the truth of all he failed. The quiet is deafening, a force of weight pushing down upon his shoulder forcing him to bend. Magic rushes through his non-existent ears, whispering condemning words of his failure. Of his weakness. Every breath is too difficult to take. Mixed with particles of dust.

“IT HAD BEEN A BEAUTIFUL DAY, THE FLOWERS HAD BEEN BLOOMING, THE BIRDS HAD BEEN SINGING THEIR LAST SONG…”

He had been naive. He had been foolish to assume they wanted to be friends again this run. They had been a stranger with the clothes and face of his previous friend. A foe who didn’t bother keeping up the ruse yet he fell for it anyways.

His judgement had been clouded.

They had been a stranger the moment they stepped out onto the snow. Acting so cold and annoyed at everything they once had enjoyed. He had brushed it off as them not feeling well. Grey stained their pants and he turned a blind eye. His unwillingness to see the reality for what it really was brought everything to its miserable end. His friend was no more but he didn’t want to see it.

And then the first cloud of dust fell onto the snow.

He refused. It couldn’t be. It must have been an accident. This had not been the reality he wanted so he refused to admit. In denial he hoped that if he believed enough they would stop this path and change…that if he gave them chance after chance they would finally see the right path one day. And that they would grasp his hand with two eager hands of their own and change for the better…

He had been putting faith in an illusion that was tearing at the seams with every pile of dust that filled the underground…

He’s who let it all happen. And now here he stands at the end of the golden halls of Judgement. Staring right in the face of the manifestation of all his sins. Who was really being judged here?

“IT ALL WITHERED INTO A STATE OF DECAY UNDERNEATH YOUR DUST STAINED FEET…”

It had shook him to the core. Seeing his brother’s priced hoodie trampled into the muddy snow. Stained with dust that had not yet flown away with the wind…It was all he had left of him…all that he had left and the nightmares of how his end could have happened. The brother that once had looked up to him is gone…and he failed him…

The sins are crawling on whose back now?

“DOESN’T IT FEEL HEAVY? THE WEIGHT OF WHAT YOU’VE DONE PRESSING DOWN ON YOUR SHOULDERS?”

It feels heavy to him. The burdens press into him so heavily that it’s bringing him to his knees as he speaks. How they are still standing after all they’ve done, he shall never be able to phantom. The only justice he’ll be able to provide for those he’s failed is to make this last stand a living hell.

“IT DOESN’T MATTER. I WON’T STAY STILL ANY LONGER, MERCY WON’T BE GIVEN TO A DIRTY BROTHER KILLER…”

The sky blue light flares and his last stand is made. But who is he punishing really? It was an eternity of repeats, each attack stronger and more manic then the last. Yet as hours pass he doesn’t let up, doesn’t tire, as if this stand was meant to last forever. Eyes dark except for that single sky blue light filled with not rage but grief. One mistake was all it would take to end this hell of condemnation. One single misstep to add to the weight of burdens he had already carried on his back.

The weight of the mistakes, of the broken hopes and dreams, of the sins became all too much to bear. It brought him to his knees, it was one slash across the neck to end it all. One hit it took to fall. Like a gash all too familiar to his daily nightmares. Phalanges gingerly touch at his dusting neck. The blue scarf barely holds it together. An ice cold weight coils itself around his soul and squeezes, telling him this is the end.

Tears trailing down his cheeks, one last desperate sob tearing past his teeth. Words unintelligible, pleading for it to not end like this, to live despite having given up the will after all he cared about having been ripped away due to his negligence to act…

But it’s all in vain…

Casting his gaze to the sky one last time…to the gold painted walls and the orange glowing windows inside this hall. His last breath teared violently from him as everything he was and used to be turned to dust.

#drabble time!#sans #undertale #genocide #underswap #underswap sans #us sans #underswap fic #underswap story #undertale story #undertale fic #sky #genocide route #genocide run

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starks-hero · 2 years

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Smoke and Mirrors

Pairing: Steven Grant x f!Reader x Marc Spector

Summary: Harrow, ushabti, gun, pain... that's the last thing you remember. When you open your eyes again, you can't tell if the world you've awoken to is a plane of death, a nightmare or a reality you've tried to suppress.

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings: canon-typical violence, major character death (sort of... not really) bucket loads of angst, referencing mental illnesses and disorders (not specified), trypanophobia (fear of needles), Harrow is a condescending prick but what's new

a/n: ignoring the fact that the warning list is longer than my left arm I hope you guys enjoy this one :) Also btw for this fic, Khonshu hasn't been imprisoned in stone... yet. Other than that it's somewhat of an episode 4 rewrite but with a little twist 😏

Read part two here!

You could hear the sound of gunfire grow closer. You stood within the lost tomb of Alexander the Great, a stone carving that contained a genocidal god in your hand. And the man with the capability to give said god the tools to carry out her divine plan was inching closer with each passing second.

“Steven.” He was staring dead ahead, eyes wide. Your voice seemed to pull him back from whatever nightmarish scenario his brain had conjured up. You took hold of his wrist, placing the ushabti in his palm and closing his fingers around it. “Keep it safe. You and Layla go back the way she came. I'll hold them off.”

You turned your back but a hand clamping down on your arm prevented you from moving any further away. “No, no, what– Y/N, we're not– we're not going to leave you here...” Steven's voice dropped off. His eyes searched your expression as if he refused to believe the words you'd spoken to him.

“Steven, we don't have time for this.” Your words came out harsher than you meant them to, spurred on by urgency. Your expression softened with your voice. “If Harrow gets to it it's all over. You need to go. I'll follow behind– Steven, Steven...”

He'd started to shake his head. “No, we're not leaving you–”

“Steven.” Layla's hand came down harshly on his shoulder. “She's right, we've got to go.”

You could have sworn her eyes were glossy with... tears? You chose not to linger on it. She did her best to pull him towards the way out but his feet seemed to fuse to the ground, his eyes still set on you as if trying to commit each of your features to memory. When she finally managed to unearth him, she nodded toward you. It was a heavy, barely put together kind of nod; one that told you she would have hugged you had the situation allowed for it.

You nodded back.

She guided Steven further away, his feet fumbling over each other as he refused to turn his body away from you. Further, further, further, until his arm fell away from your touch.

It ached, letting him go. But as much as it hurt you didn't allow it to show through until the moment Steven and Layla disappeared from sight. Once Steven, with his darkened hair and eyes, vanished behind one of the tomb's columns you felt a pinch in your chest. His absence settled over you like a coolness you'd never be able to shake. You allowed the pain to linger a moment longer before swallowing it down.

Hurrying to the sarcophagus laid out behind you, you did your best to ignore the mummified corpse as you rummaged through the remains, praying for anything you might be able to use as a weapon. Your prayers were answered in the form of a golden axe.

You grasped its handle and took your stance, waiting for Harrow and his wolves to come. The tomb filled with armed men and your stance weakened under the aim of their guns. You tried to count them but your brain quickly gave up and settled on the far more reasonable conclusion that you were outnumbered. Your arm became heavy with realisation and you lowered your weapon.

Harrow stood among them, his face uncomfortably impartial. “Just you,” he smiled and if he hadn't meant to sound condescending he had failed miserably. “I remember a girl. Our mission to serve Ammit had brought us to Singapore and there she was, a girl so bright her radiance attracted nothing but thieves. You see–” Harrow stepped towards you and you felt a shiver ghost your spine at the shifting of broken glass. “Life had dealt her an unfair hand. She was surrounded by those who thought they knew better, who sought to control her every move, every choice.” He stopped a few feet short of you. “We freed her from those people. We offered her liberation. And once she grasped that liberation, well, she shone brighter than ever before. You remind me of her,” he smiled the kind of smile that hid bared teeth. “I can offer you the same liberation. You don't have to listen to what Marc tells you. You don't have to follow the command of a man so unwell he can't remember his own name!”

Your hand tightened around the axe at his words.

“You can make your own choices. But first, a very important decision has to be made. And I believe you'll make the right one.” Harrow tilted his head. “Where is the ushabti?”

You spared a glance around the tomb, weighing your odds. You refused to let your shoulders or head fall. You knew the joy Harrow derived from holding power over people and you refused to give him such gratification.

“Okay,” you nodded. “I'll give it to you.”

Harrow nodded and one of his men climbed the steps towards you, gun never once wavering from where it was aimed at your chest. You lowered your head enough that it wouldn't arouse suspicion and tilted it in the direction you knew Steven and Layla were watching from. You wanted to mouth something or spare a glance in their direction. But you wouldn't jeporadise their safety.

Instead, you waited as Harrow's crony drew closer. The moment his hand reached out to search your pockets you swung your arm towards him with everything you had, surprised by how easily the axe bit into his side. He gasped, then choked, then fell to the floor at your feet. You rose the axe again–

Bang!

Your next breath caught in your throat. You felt time slow down, the echo of the shot creating a vortex you felt you'd never escape from. Then the pain hit, it was hot and heavy and seemed to fill your lungs. You tried to gasp. Your fingers, weakened to the point you felt you could no longer command them, unfurled from around the axe.

Bang!

The second shot sounded the same moment the axe hit the ground. This time the pain was immediate. You stumbled backwards, the world seeming to move with you. Spinning and spinning and spinning– you lost your footing and... were you falling? You vaguely recognised the feel of water engulfing you soaking your clothes and making your body feel heavier than it already did.

Everything began to darken as your mind collapsed in on itself.

Layla had to clamp her hand over Steven's mouth to drown the sound of his shout when the first gunshot rang out. He watched with horror, not believing what his eyes were showing him if it weren't for the red blossoming on your chest. He felt sick, he felt broken. He felt like charging out and grasping hold of Harrow and–

Marc groaned as he forcibly took control. He feared that had Steven fronted any longer he would have rushed to your side then and there. And if physically restraining Steven was the only way to avoid him getting himself killed then so be it. But Steven was relentless and Marc couldn't recall ever seeing him so feral before. Keeping him from forcibly taking the body back was like a tug of war that Marc actually feared he could lose.

He shrugged Layla off and pushed himself harshly into the wall. He closed his eyes and sucked in deep breaths, trying to reason with the screaming voice inside his head.

“I know, I know, Steven but we can't alright. We can't.” His voice broke as he whispered the words. Trying to keep Steven contained was painful and horrid and Marc felt as though his insides were being torn apart. Steven's shouts had grown so loud Marc began to claw at his ears.

“Don't you dare! Don't you dare say I don't care about her.” His whisper was harsh and deathly.

Layla watched on, helpless. It wasn't any easier on her. The knowledge that you were meters away, bleeding out and in need of help was gut-wrenching. But if they acted now they'd only get themselves killed. And they certainly wouldn't be any help to you if they were dead.

The four minutes it took Harrow and his men to search and then filter out of the tomb were among the longest they'd ever experienced. Once the last remanence of echoed footfall had disappeared, Marc felt the levee break.

“Y/N!” Steven, taking control so suddenly he struggled to untangle himself from where Marc had pressed them into the tomb's wall, raced towards you. “Y/N, oh god, no–”

You lay in the shallows, arms spread at your sides. The water turned your hair to whisps, casting a halo around your head. If it weren't for the blood staining the water around you he swore you could have been mistaken for a depiction of a deity.

He fell to his knees, the water soaking through his pants as he pulled you to him. “Come on, love, wake up. Come back to me, come to us–” Steven's hands were shaking so violently he couldn't still them long enough to examine your wound. And there was so much blood– He felt himself freezing up as he glanced down at your still expression. He didn't know how to help you, he didn't know what to do, he didn't know–

“Khonshu!” Marc's voice was almost animalistic. The moment Steven's panic had escalated to the point it stood in the way of saving your life, he'd taken control. It had only taken a moment for him to realise that he couldn't save you either. “Khonshu!”

“She died protecting the ushabti.” The familiar grit-filled voice sounded from behind them. They turned to find the god perched against the sarcophagus. “She... surprised me.”

“Bring her back,” Marc's voice was quiet and level. Dangerous. “She died fulfilling your stupid mission, huh, so you bring her back.”

Khonshu tilted his skeletal head. “I may be a god but I too have my limitations.”

“Bullshit, I've seen you do it before.” Marc spat. “I've seen you do it before now bring her back!”

“To reverse death would be to invite the wrath of the gods,” Khonshu stated. His voice was dead, almost mistakable for casual. Marc didn't waver.

“Bring her back or find yourself a new avatar.”

The god seemed to react to that, though his set expression gave nothing away. He pushed away from the sarcophagus, beak tilting inquisitively to the side as he examined your body. Silence filled the tomb and Marc said nothing as the god thought.

“You should know, Marc Spector,” he said eventually. “Such drastic acts carry heavy tolls.”

You awoke to white walls.

In all honesty, you weren't entirely sure you were awake. The room you sat in felt... artificial. The colour was so blinding and pale you couldn't differentiate where the wall ended and the floor began.

Glancing down, you found the clothes you wore matched your surroundings. Plane and featureless. You felt your consciousness begin to return to you in greater fragments, the picture you were putting together with the pieces you already had becoming clearer and cleared until– you swallowed.

Steven, Marc, Layla–

“Hello, lovely.” A voice broke through your tirade of thoughts just as panic began to set in. “How are we feeling today, hm?”

The man that stood before you wore what appeared to be a beige nurse's uniform. A familiar mop of brown curls covered his head and fell in ringlets and coils against his temple. And his accent...

“Steven?”

He turned to face you, brown eyes bright and a comforting smile spread politely across his face. He placed what appeared to be a small glass filled with different coloured pills on the table before you. Your brows creased.

“Now, I know I'm not supposed to do this but I brought something I thought might cheer you up, given how much you liked the last one. Let's have a look, yeah?”

A book was placed before you.

‘Ancient Egypt; The gods of the Ennead.’

You shook your head. What was happening? Everything was still coming back to you in bits and pieces, shattered fragments of the same memory. All you knew for certain was that this wasn't right.

You felt a gentle hand on your knee as Steven knelt to be on your level. “Everything alright, love?”

Your gaze fell on the book. The cover was blurry as if your eyes were yet to adjust to the light of the room. You squinted and blinked until the image of a stone statue came into focus. The realisation hit you so suddenly that it must have flashed across your expression judging by Steven's reaction.

“The ushabti,” you said suddenly. “I– I gave you the ushabti.”

Steven's expression seemed to sadden. His eyes dimmed as he carefully took your hand in his. “Come on now, Y/N. We've talked about this.”

You shook your head, frustration and confusion whirling together.

“What are you talking about, Steven? Where's Marc? And Layla? We need to find Khonshu and tell him about Ammit before Harrow–” You tried to stand but an ankle restraint, as well as Steven's hands, prevented you from doing so. He listened empathetically as you spiralled, begging him to remember what you felt you'd experienced just minutes ago.

His calm and patient expression did not falter when two other nurses entered the room and nodded to him. They undid your restraint and dragged you to your feet. As they pulled you away, your feet failing to find purchase on the tiled floors, you desperately called after Steven. His reaction was dismal. He simply smiled empathetically, as if you were nothing more than another patient he'd grown used to treating.

The room you were dragged to was so large it made you physically shrink in on yourself. You felt small and insignificant and vulnerable. Like if you needed to run there was nowhere to hide. To sum it up in a single word, exposed.

The man sat at the transparent desk before you only succeeded in making you feel more uncomfortable. His very presence seemed to stir an instinctual flight or fight response in you that you couldn't explain.

“I know that you've been struggling lately.” His voice unsettled you. “Perhaps I'm somewhat responsible for your most recent episode. I thought that by allowing you to have access to some books, new cognitive stimulation, then it might improve your condition. But it has evidently just fueled the fire.”

“I– I don't...” The confusion was back, slamming into your chest and hindering your ability to string together a sentence. You remembered the tomb, and Steven, the ushabti. But how did you get here? Where was here?

“I know it can be confusing but it is not irregular for someone with your condition to struggle with differentiating between reality and fiction.” The man spoke again. The air suddenly felt very thin around you. He reached up and took the hinge of his glasses between his thumb and pointer before pulling them away from his face. A sense of familiarity filled you.

“Y/N, you seem to believe that you have some sort of... relationship with one of your nurses. Steven has shown you a great deal of kindness. It makes sense that you would transform him into a romanticised figure.”

No, no, no, no. You shook your head. The realisation of what was being implied, of where you were, caused an overwhelming sense of nausea to crash over you.

“You also believe that Steven possesses some sort of... alter ego. An alter you call Marc Spector?”

“No...” You hadn't made them up. Steven was real, Marc was real. You'd lived every moment of it; the first time you'd met them, your journey to Cairo and search for Ammit–

“I understand that you are under the impression that you, Steven and this ‘Marc’ share some sort of life together. That you are heroes in a sense, saving the day.” He smiled and you felt all the worse for it. “Y/N, you have created an alternate, fantastical world inside your mind inspired by things from your daily life. But it is vital to your recovery that you recognise that none of it is real.”

Your confusion peaked and you felt a tight bubble of panic begin to expand in your chest.

“No, you're lying...” The fear that what he was saying had some semblance of truth to it weakened the strength of your words. With a deep sigh and condescending look, he leaned closer, studying you as if you were some form of anomaly.

“Y/N, I can't help you if you don't help yourself.” His words echoed endlessly in your head.

Then, your blood ran cold as the final piece of the puzzle you'd been trying to solve since waking slotted into place. You remembered it all; you remembered the man sat before you and what he'd done.

“You shot me.”

You rose to your feet, standing with such force the chair fell back against the polished porcelain tiles. “You shot me.” You immediately turned towards the door. You could hear Harrow trying to placate you, reassuring you with words of comfort that tasted like nothing but poison to your senses. Your feet refused to cooperate when you tried to run. Your movements were sluggish and heavy. Had they sedated you?

“Truly, I understand how you're feeling. I too have suffered from mental illness.” The rhythmic ‘click!’ of a walking cane against the floor told you Harrow had stood and followed and you felt your panic flare. “And I know you can be healed.”

“Stay away from me!” You tried your best to sound fierce but your voice was frightened and meek. You reached the door and pulled at the handle with such vigour it was a miracle it didn't break and give way. When the handle proved no use you stepped back and began driving your foot into the wood. You had to get out–

“Y/N, please, you're only going to make things worse for yourself.”

The door suddenly gave way and for a moment you believed you had succeeded in kicking it in. However, the two nurses that quickly materialised and grabbed hold of you snuffed out any optimism you felt.

“All right. Be gentle with her,” Harrow ordered. Their hold on you was harsh and dug angrily into your skin. You screamed in frustration, trying to trash yourself free but their grip only tightened. “Don't hurt her.”

You saw the light catch on something the male nurse held in his hand and your heart sank into your stomach.

“No!”

The other nurse attempted to hold you still as the needle was drawn closer to your arm. In a moment of anxiety-fueled defiance, you landed a well-aimed kick to the nurse's groin. The syringe fell from his hand. You struggled against the nurse who still had a hold on you before resorting to the animalistic function of biting down on her hand.

She yelped with pain and the moment her hold on you loosened you turned and ran.

It took you a moment to gain control of your legs. You stumbled a few times, forced to use the walls for support but never once did you stop moving. Your heart was thundering in your ears. You didn't know where you were going or what your plan was, the only detail your brain cared to focus on was the need to get as far from Harrow as possible.

You turned a sharp corner and were immediately thrown off-kilter once again. The corridor before you appeared to shift from side to side, like the cabin of a ship at sea. You dismissed what you were seeing before your brain had the chance to process it and charged on.

You tried the multiple doors that lined the corridor, frantically pulling at the handles until one gave way and allowed you to seek sanctuary inside. You shut the door behind you and locked it for good measure. Your breath stilled as the shadows of your pursuers passed by.

Trying to tame your breathing felt like attempting to placate a wild animal. The adrenaline was still burning in your veins and your hands trembled at your sides. The four nightmarishly white walls of the room seemed to close in on you. You didn't know where to go from here or what to do. You felt alone, isolated, lost–

“Y/N.”

The sudden voice was too realistic to have come from inside your head. It was echoed and distant but you would have recognised the London accent anywhere and Steven's name fell quickly from your lips. You rose to your feet.

“Come on, love, wake up.”

This time his voice surrounded you completely, almost seeming to make up the air itself. You glanced around, not entirely sure that you weren't making it all up.

“Wake up, Y/N.” This time the voice belonged to Marc. “You gotta wake up.”

A thousand questions flooded your mind but before you could call out to Steven or Marc you were caught off guard by something that somehow wasn't the strangest thing you'd witnessed that day.

The tiles of the room's walls and floor began to shake erratically. They moved in such a way it mimicked the ruffling of a bird's feathers. The growing sound of the ceramics clattering together began to resemble the applause of a thunderous audience. Tiles began to break and shatter. The rest of the room seemed to follow suit, falling apart around you.

Then the gravel-like voice you'd grown to associate with the skull of an ancient godly bird spoke, “It's time to wake up, little one. Your time has not yet come.”

So.... part two anyone? 👀

Moon Knight tag: @bakerstreethound @linkpk88

#steven grant x reader #marc spector x reader #moon knight x reader #moon knight #steven grant #marc spector #steven grant imagine #marc spector imagine #1k

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aspiringauthorintraining · 3 years

Text

Take Me Out (2/2)

(A/N): ehem, this second part’s a little steamy (by my standards lol)

Part 1 here!

______

The next time you had found yourself in the king of curses’ domain, it was the first time you properly saw him in his physical form.

“You could at least be a little nicer to me, Sukuna.” you expressed your disappointment of not being greeted warmly by the curse when you had made your way to the bottom of his throne of skulls. “I accepted your date even without seeing what you looked like first. The least you could do is say hi the first time we meet officially.”

Leaning on the side of the throne with his chin rested on his hand, he clicked his tongue at you.

“I should just kill you right now and get it over with.”

But you weren’t even listening, too distracted with staring at Sukuna’s appearance. Having always talked to the curse on Yuuji’s cheek, his physical form was unfamiliar to you.

You unconsciously bit your bottom lip when your eyes trailed down his body, taking in every one of its features. Even though most of his torso was covered by the robe, anyone could tell he had a fit physique. Your appreciative stares seemed to further inflate his already large ego, prompting him to suddenly rip apart his white robe to properly showcasing his form.

Not that you were complaining. Not one bit.

Watching your still-dazed look with a pleased grin, he teleported down from his throne to where you were standing.

“I knew you were stupid, but I didn’t think you were a pervert as well.” Sukuna smirked, smugly.

Unknowingly, you swallowed at the sudden close proximity. It took everything in you not to reach out and touch his abs that were presented before you.

After realizing you weren’t going to tear your eyes away from his chest anytime soon, Sukuna grabbed your chin with two fingers, pointing your face upward towards his.

“Eyes up here, woman.” he ordered you.

Meeting his eyes, you gulped at the look in them. And your breath hitched when his gaze flitted down to your lips.

A second later, his lips came down on yours.

Your eyes widened at the sensation of his mouth devouring yours, but it didn’t take long for you to adjust to the situation. You could feel him smirk when you returned the kiss with equal fervor.

One of his hands wrapped around the back of your head, the other around your waist, pulling you in closer. Whatever space there was between the two of you was nonexistent now. Even when the two of you pulled apart in order for you to breathe, he didn’t let go of his hold on you.

The room was filled with your heavy pants when the two of you finally broke away from each other.

Sukuna observed your dazed look and swollen lips with a satisfied look on his face. It was the first time you were the flustered one, unable to say anything.

And when the strong force pulled at his consciousness, yanking him back to his designated resting corner in Yuuji’s brain, a devious plan brewed in his mind.

_____

Unbeknownst to you, something had been brewing in Sukuna’s mind ever since your previous encounter with him. And on the next assignment you had with the brat, he was going to put the plan into action.

But when the opportunity came the following week, he was met with the sight of you laying on the ground, clutching your stomach in pain. A steady stream of blood was seeping through your fingers, while a smaller trail leaked from the corner of your mouth. Cackling from an unidentified curse was heard over your coughing of blood, the laughter mocking the current state your were in.

At the sight of your injuries and loss of blood, Sukuna’s brows furrowed. He didn’t comment on your situation, instead choosing to direct his attention to the curse that was celebrating your currently wounded state.

When the curse noticed Sukuna’s glare, it flinched under his gaze.

Realizing who had just entered the room and knowing the obvious outcome if it stayed in the king of curses’ presence any longer, the weaker curse tried to make a run for it. But before it could it could take a step back, its body was slashed into large chunks- thick, black liquid pooling on the ground from the sudden dismemberment. The head of the curse, fully detached from its body, dropped to the floor; briefly rolling a few feet away before coming to a stop on the side of its cheek.

Sukuna grinned in satisfaction as he watched the curse’s dark blood spew out from the its mouth. He neared the now detached head, shoes scrunching from all the blood on the floor.

“You touched what’s mine.” he stated, with a psychotic smile.

Now, unable to attempt any form of escape, the bloodshot eyes on the severed head widened in terror at the stronger curse in the room.

Placing a foot on the dismembered head, Sukuna’s smile dropped.

“Now you’ll die.”

All of the dismembered body parts were suddenly engulfed in burning cursed flames- and despite being detached to the rest of it’s body, the curse was able to feel the pain of each lick of fire.

The curse’s face scrunched in pain from the pressing on it’s head from Sukuna’s foot, An only watch as all its body parts were suddenly engulfed in burning red flames, feeling the pain of each lick of the fire despite being detached to the rest of its body.

Once the fire dissipated after there was nothing left to burn, Sukuna pressed down heavily on the dismembered head; a series of crunches sounding from beneath his foot until nothing stood in the way between his shoe and the floor.

A cough brought Sukuna’s attention back to you.

You hadn’t moved from your original spot, still laying down on the floor; struggling to take in a breath without coughing. He teleported to where you were, the weak curse now out of the way.

A trail of red leaked from the hand you had used to cover your mouth with. And the bright liquid stained the shirt you wore, darkening the white fabric with each drop.

“I guess I’m not going to be able to make it to our date.” you chuckled weakly, staring up at him. Your lips were coated with a mix of dried and fresh blood.

“You’re not going to die.” Sukuna muttered. “I told you, I’m going to be the one who kills you.”

Placing a hand out, he used the Reverse Cursed technique to direct his cursed energy into sealing up your gaping wounds. In an instant, you were healed. Well, for the most part. The pain from the previous wounds still lingered in your nerves and there was the fact that you had lost quite a good amount of blood, causing your head to spin when you tried to stand up.

Your whole body groaned in protest as you forced your legs to support the rest of your weight; swaying a bit before grabbing onto the nearest stable thing- which was Sukuna. He didn’t seem to mind too much being used as a substitute for a wall, seeing as you weren’t pushed back onto the ground by him.

“I think I’m going to be sick.” you said, clutching your spinning head with a moan.

The overwhelming presence of iron from the blood on your lips left a bad taste in your mouth. You leaned further onto him for support, trying to avoid looking at spinning floor by closing your eyes.

“Don’t throw up on me, woman.”

You breathed in and out deeply, trying to ignore the pungent smell of blood filling your senses, instead focusing on the musky scent coming from the person in front of you. You wondered if the scent belong to him or Yuuji, since the body technically belonged to the latter of the two.

“Distract me, then.” you replied without thought.

Expecting another monologue on ways he was going to murder you in cold blood, you mentally braced yourself.

But to your surprise, he remained silent. Instead, he grabbed your chin, lifting it up to his face.

Your eyes opened blearily in an attempt to figure out what his plan was. Focusing your blurry, spinning vision, your eyes fixated on the suspicious smirk on his face. Before you could deduce where you had seen the specific smirk- without warning, he enveloped your lips with his own. And when he finally let you breathe, your were sure your head was spinning for a different reason than before.

He held your gaze with dark eyes, making a show of licking some of your blood that had gotten on his bottom lip. The action should have disgusted you, but you could only react with a hard swallow.

You gave him a questioning look when the smirk on his face quickly morphed into a frown. It was when the black marks decorating his body began fading away, that you realized Yuuji was regaining control of his body again.

“(Y/N)-senpai, are you okay?” Yuuji’s face turned into worry after registering your current appearance. “Sukuna wasn’t the one who did this to you, was he?”

You shook your head, giving your kouhai a reassuring smile.

“No, just the opposite actually.”

“That’s a relief!” Yuuji gave a sigh of relief, completely clueless of what had just happened.

___

It seemed Sukuna had finally come up with the best way to kill you off.

The cause of your death; prolonged loss of breath due to kissing. Whether this method was going to be effective or not, Sukuna was definitely attempting to find out through a series of experimentations.

The moment that Sukuna was able to take control of his host’s body, he would seek you out wherever you were on campus, and you somehow always ended up sandwiched between him and a couch, or a wall, or the floor, or a bed, etc. After a round of suffocating you with his lips, he would allow you to catch your breath for a brief moment, giving you the false hope that you could finally breathe like a normal person. Once he deemed you had breathed enough to continue, he would attack your lips once again, repeating the cycle right until he was forced to hand the reigns of control back to Yuuji.

To say that you tried stopping him would be a blatant lie. Besides, if he was always locking lips with you during his time of control, it meant he wasn’t out somewhere on a killing spree or committing mass genocide of some kind. It was a difficult(?) sacrifice, yes, but one that you were very willing to take for the greater good.

“Mffm- Su-“ you words were again interrupted by his addicting lips.

Before you could succumb to his temptation for the fifth time that hour, you placed your hands firmly against his cheeks, pulling them away from your face.

“Sukuna, I need to go or I’m going to miss my flight.” you tried to convince him.

But your words fell on deaf ears, as he swatted away your hands, trying to near your lips again.

“Miss it then,” he grumbled.

It took all of your willpower to back away out of his enticing reach.

“As much as we would both like me to stay,” you laughed at his scoff of denial, “my flight leaves in an hour.”

You couldn’t help but grin at him, his disgruntled look resembling somewhat of a childish pout.

“Fine then, get lost.” he griped, but didn’t make a move to get off of you.

“Is that really your parting words to me?” you jokingly frowned. “What if I die out there, Sukuna? This is your last chance to leave behind no regrets and finally confess your secret love for me.”

“I’m the one who’s going to kill you, woman. I’ll confess my undying love for you then.“ he said sarcastically.

“So you do love me.”

“Tch.” Sukuna rolled his eyes at your cheekiness. “Just don’t get killed out there by some weak-ass curse, like last time.”

You patted his cheek gently with a grin. “Don’t worry, I won’t miss our date. I’m looking forward to it too much to die now.”

He sighed once again at your flirtation, now used to your teasing. He motioned to get off from you, but was stopped by a tug on his shirt.

He raised a brow at your hand gripping down onto his clothing. “You just said you had to leave, woman. Make up your mind.”

“I guess I could catch one of the later flights.” you reasoned with a grin.

And this time you were the one reaching for his lips.

___________________________

*(A/N): hehe, this was supposed to be angsty but then somehow it ended up like this lol. anyways, thank you for reading~ ^^

#jjk #Jujutsu Kaisen #jujutsu kaisen imagine #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk imagine #ryomen sukuna imagine #sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna imagine #ryomen sukuna x you #no beta we die like sukuna did hundreds of years ago lol

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glitxhwayventeen · 3 years

Text

Bruises

Jeonghan: Chapter 3 (I Will Wait For You)

Characters: Jeonghan x female reader

General Genre/Warnings: multi-member au (different scenarios), werewolf au, fantasy, suggestive, marking, mentions of mating, angst, fluff, potential blood mentions, runaways, child abuse, domestic abuse (and all that it entails), mental illness, cheating (sort of?), violence, death mentions, made up universe, genocide, Any others will be put as warnings when future chapters are thought up/written.

Author’s Note: I absolutely love Jeonghan single dad. I don’t care if you don’t you can go to hell. It’s one of my favorite story lines I’ve made. It’s about to get soooo good, y’all don’t even know.

Please remember that all of these chapters and the content within them are a work of fiction! They’re just for fun/entertainment!

Bold= Dialogue Italics= Thoughts

☁️ & 🥀

Bruises Master List

Chapter 3: I Will Wait For You

Your eyes flickered open at the growing amount of light that was seeping in through the curtains in your shared bedroom. You groaned in annoyance at the sudden reminder of morning. Quickly, you wrapped your arms around the small being that was laying in front of you and flipped the both of you to the other side, facing your still peacefully sleeping mate.

This had been your morning routine for almost a week now: You’d go to sleep being spooned by Jeonghan, you’d wake up with Hyunwoo nuzzled in your arms, and you’d end up turning the both of you around so that the bright light from the outside world would stay at bay for just a little while longer. You hadn’t had such a family oriented consistency for centuries. At first, it was quite foreign to you. You weren’t used to such soft touches or sweet cuddles. But now that you’ve become accustomed to it, you absolutely loved it and couldn’t imagine waking a different way.

Your mate instinctively threw an arm over your waist while in his deep slumber and pulled the both of you closer to his chest. This caused the baby in your arms to stir and snuggle his little head deeper into your torso. You smiled softly to yourself when you looked down to check on the snoring infant. His chubby cheeks were all swollen from his long nap, his small mouth was drawn open with a tiny amount of drool threatening to spill down to the bed, his little nose was scrunched up similar to the way his father’s did when he laughed, and he was breathing gently. He let a gummy smile appear on his tired face for a split second before his face relaxed to its previous position and went back to normal, signaling he must have been having a good dream.

Hyunwoo had kept insisting that you be the one to constantly hold him and put him to sleep, he’d throw a tantrum whenever anyone tried to pull you away from his chunky hands or out of his limited sight. He always wanted you to sing old lullabies to him and be the one to feed him his food. Jeonghan even kept joking that his own son loved you more than him with a pout adorned on his plush lips.

Of course he wasn’t ACTUALLY jealous, he was honestly ecstatic that his son loved you as much as he did. It made him swoon that you both adored each other from the get-go. You never complained that his son refused anyone else’s attention and solely demanded yours. You would stop whatever task it was you were doing to give him all the recognition he craved. You would even get up to rock him back to sleep after he awoke from a nightmare in the middle of the night, even if it meant you wouldn’t get much rest yourself. He even had trouble doing that, and he was his actual father, he didn’t understand how you could do it while hardly having any real connection to the small tike. You were everything he had ever hoped you’d be and more. To Jeonghan, it was like you had managed to stitch their torn two person family together finally, making it whole with your caring and doting personality.

You were also happy that the little one had taken such a liking to you. Him and his father were the two people you cared about most in the whole world. The fact that he already seemed to love you as much as you treasured him made your heart go warm with joy. In your mind, you already thought of him as your own, even if you hadn’t known either of them that long, even if he wasn’t your blood. You didn’t care. It felt like you were always meant to be with them, and that one thought made you more happy than you ever dreamed possible.

Seeing Hyunwoo’s little face made you start to think of the life you could have with the both of them and their pack. You could imagine having lazy days in with them on the couch doing nothing other than spending time with them. You could picture being by your mate’s side as you watched his son grow to be a man as wonderful as his father. You even hoped that one day, maybe, you could give Hyunwoo a sibling or two so he would know what it was like to have a large family. You always loved growing up with your brothers, even if they were a pain in your ass most of the time. They always made life more interesting and you never once felt lonely while they were alive. You wanted that for Wooie. You wanted him and your mate to feel all the love and support a big family had to offer. You couldn’t help but let out a silent chuckle at the thought.

There’s no way in hell any of that would happen. Jeonghan didn’t seem like the type of guy to want more than one child. Not that you would mind, you probably couldn’t even have kids anyways due to the fact that you had never had a heat cycle before. It didn’t seem probable. So you just smiled to yourself, knowing full well that you could just devote all your undivided attention and overprotective maternal instincts to Hyunwoo.

Your daydreaming was interrupted by a soft yet fleeting voice.

He’s coming.

“What?” You questioned aloud juuuust loud enough to startle your mate awake.

“What? What happened?” Jeonghan said, very obviously having been jostled from a deep hibernation.

He’s coming soon.

“Huh?- Oh nothing. Nothing I just… I thought I- Heard something is all” you tried to reassure him by reaching your hand to his hair to twist it between your fingers softly, a failing attempt to take his mind off your small outburst.

His chest let out a soft pur, though his heart rate was still beating very fast from being awoken so suddenly and at the brisk contact you provided him. He cleared his throat before he continued.

“Oh… okay. Are you okay?” He asked behind lowered eyelids, finally starting to calm down. He moved his hand to his son’s head before he ruffled the tuffs of hair around gently.

He’s found you.

“Y-Yeah” you stuttered, setting your hand on his chiseled cheek and giving him a peck to his lips. “Just going crazy as per usual”

“But I like your crazy. It masks my snarky attitude perfectly” Your mate tenderly chuckled, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down very prominently.

He could tell by your spaced off gaze that something was actually bothering you, but he knew you’d tell him about it if it really worried you or when you were ready to. So he decided to just let it go.

“You aren’t snarky. Just sassy, and I like your sassiness. It’s oddly endearing” you bit your lip before you smiled and brought his lips to yours one more time, this time for a much longer passionate smooch.

Pulling away, you could see a content grin appear on his angelic face. The sunlight had melted in your room enough to glisten his silvery blonde locks in its infinite glow. It made you wonder how he always looked so good in the mornings.

“Are you hungry baby? Wooie needs to be woken up and fed soon or we’ll have one angry little monster on our hands” He informed you with a teasing pout, gliding the hand he had rested on your waist to cup your jaw.

“Mmm… I suppose I could eat. But I’ll definitely help you feed this little guy first to make it easier. After all, we both know he won’t let you feed him if he sensed I’m here because I’M his favorite now.” You quipped at him with a shit eating grin.

“You’re both our favorite princess. And I know you’re too hungry, I can hear your stomach growling” he beamed with a kiss to your forehead, “Now come on, I have to get the both of you up and nourished before I have TWO angry little monsters on my hands.”

You playfully smacked his shirtless chest before he sat up and started getting ready for the day. You gently woke the baby up before you all got yourselves dressed and made your way downstairs for the day.

After breakfast, which ended with Wooie getting mushed peas all over his cute outfit and the both of you getting food globbed in your hair, Jeonghan had Joshua and Seungcheol watch the tot so you could both take a shower.

Once you both got up the stairs, You made your way to the bathroom closest to your shared bedroom. Jeonghan turned the water on while you began to strip yourself of your now soiled clothing. You hadn’t ‘slept’ together yet, but you had seen each other mostly, if not completely, naked already from phasing around each other so frequently. Not that it would matter, you felt comfortable with him, so you didn’t have a problem being fully nude in front of him. You knew that if you didn’t want to take things further he’d never push you into it. Your happiness and safety were his main concern and after everything you last mate put you through, he definitely wasn’t about to pressure you into having sex with him.

Jeonghan had finally finished ridding himself of his own clothes. You both opened the shower door and entered together. You helped him wash the green baby food off from behind his ears while he helped you wash it out of your long hair. You were honestly really grateful he was there to help because that shit was caked in there and there was NO WAY you could get it out by yourself. You may have had some supernatural powers, but there was some shit even magic couldn’t fix.

Later after the gross stuff was soaped away from your bodies, you continued to finish your shower until you felt completely clean. The hot water felt amazing on your sore limbs. Jeonghan had offered to help clean your back and you happily agreed, not really feeling up to stretching your sorry limbs to reach the harder places just yet. Some of the boys had spoke to you before about how they didn’t understand how you were okay with him doing so much for you. They said that if it had been them, they would’ve snapped and told him to F off by now because he seemed to smother you. But you honestly loved it, it felt nice to not have to constantly take care of yourself all the time. You now had a mate who would do just about everything for you, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

When Jeonghan was dragging the shower sponge across your skin, he could see the remains of your faded bruises. It made his inner wolf whine. He never wanted you to have had to deal with what you had gone through. It made him so angry that your other mate decided to smack you around like a rag doll when you were literally the sweetest person to ever have existed. He did really hate that he had to call him your mate. He wanted to growl the second he saw them, but he didn’t want you to think he was upset with you. It wasn’t your fault your other mate was a fucking jackass. I mean, what kind of wolf would EVER want to hurt the ONE person they’re supposed to instinctively want to protect with their life? Still, he couldn’t help but finally ask what’s been bugging him since the day he met you.

“(Y/N), can- can I ask you something?” He whispered almost inaudibly from behind you while he ghosted over your shoulder blade with his hand.

“Of course you can Hannie” you replied automatically, still scrubbing the front of you body with the other soapy loofa. His heart leapt at the pet name you had given him.

“Why… why did you stay with your old mate when he-” Jeonghan paused, not really knowing if he should continue.

“When he… hit you…?” He questioned softly, not wanting to upset you.

You hesitated to answer for a moment and stopped the movement of the loofa roaming in the front of you. He treated you terribly and beat you until you couldn’t stand. He usually blamed it on some sort of contact you had had with somebody that day. Whether it was telling one of his pack members good morning to be polite, or simply having had stared a second too long at someone you passed on the streets, he’d always find a reason.

And some days he wouldn’t even give you a reason as to why he did what he did, he’d just start wailing on you. He’d call you every name in the book he could think of and he eventually broke you down to the point of you not even being able to raise your head up from looking at your feet. He always told you he was the only one that could ever love you and that you were worthless. Why did you stay with him?

“I… I really don’t know. I- I did even think about it when I was with him till right towards the end…” you trailed, trying to remain calm when speaking of a time in your life that was what you’d call your low point.

“I- I think the imprinting pull was too strong. I wanted to hate him, but I just couldn’t. Everyday I’d get up and think ‘this would be the day that I leave,’ but I never did. I always thought of how sad he’d be and how hurt he’d feel if I actually did it and I- I just couldn’t. The pull to him was too strong and I… I’ve always been too weak to fight it” you answered honestly, looking down at the drain near your feet so your mate couldn’t see the tears pooling in your eyes.

“Hey” Jeonghan spun you around to and tilted your chin up to look at him.

“You’re the strongest person I know. You left your mate. YOUR MATE. Do you know how hard that is? Even if he didn’t mark you, the imprinting pull is almost impossible to resist. But somehow you did it. Somehow you managed to do something no one else could do.” Jeonghan swallowed a hard lump that seemingly had formed in his throat so he could get out his next sentence, a sentence he knew would crush him to say, but one you needed to hear nonetheless, “You loved him. Part of you still wanted to be with him, yet you left for your own good, that takes a lot of strength.” He smiled a sad smile at you, kissing the top of your button nose, rubbing your shoulders with the tips of his fingers gently.

“I was never all that happy with him. He stopped being kind to me only a week or two after I met him and then he started being downright cruel. It got to the point where I was too scared to even speak in his presence without being spoken to first. No one even knew what he was doing is the sad part of it all.” You let out a dry laugh at the remembrance of your shitty life with your past mate.

“Everyone always thought he was too nice of a guy and I was just clumsy. He put on such a good act in front of people, he was poised and calm in public. He was helpful and considerate towards his friends. He was great with other people’s kids and was basically the parent to his pack as their alpha. He was kind to strangers and seemed like the perfect man anyone would want to bring home to their parents. He has everyone believing he’s a saint.” You scoffed at the thought, knowing full well no one would say otherwise even still.

“They never believed me. And I just took it. I dealt with it because I thought it was just my life. But then, He- He began talking about wanting to start a family and I- I ran.” You hiccuped, letting tears fall down your face as the spray from the shower helped wash away some of their saltiness.

Jeonghan was looking at you with sorry eyes the entire time you spoke, listening intently to every word that came out of your mouth.

“I didn’t want to have to have his kid. He’d- he’d hit it, just like he did me. I couldn’t do it. It’s one reason why I never let him mark me, I didn’t want him to make everything permanent and… get ideas. So when he said that at dinner in front of his whole pack, I ran away from him that night when they were asleep. And then- then you guys found me when I almost got caught. And now- now I’m here with you.” You wiped your tears away and gave him a trembling smile.

The way you felt for Jeonghan was different than the way you felt for your other so called mate. Jeonghan made your stomach fill with butterflies, your other mate always made your stomach fill with dread. You didn’t feel the pull as strong to him as you did with Jeonghan either. You knew that with your other mate, you’d rather die than spend the rest of your life with him. But with Hannie, you knew you’d rather die than spend the rest of your life without him. You weren’t really sure why or how it all worked. You situation was quite unique so you had no frame of reference. There was no guide on what to do if two wolves imprinted on the same wolf. There wasn’t a ‘how to’ on handling two different wolves love for you. You didn’t know why certain feeling were stronger or weaker. You just knew that you were happier with Jeonghan.

You also knew your other mate made you feel dirty. He made you feel less than human. He made you feel unworthy of Jeonghan’s kindness and patience. You could see hurt in his eyes as you stared up at him through clouded vision. It made you sick.

“And now you’re here with me.” He gave a reassuring smile back to you, kissing the crown of your wet hair.

“And I don’t ever want you to feel scared of me. Or feel that you can’t say what’s on your mind. I hope you know I’d never hurt you like he did and that I’d never let anyone else ever hurt you that way either.” He exclaimed, pulling your naked body in to his chest for a hug.

But why? Why would he feel that way when you’ve basically just turned his whole life upside down?

“But… aren’t you upset with me?” You couldn’t help but sniffle into his chest, trying your best not to break out in full on sobs.

“Upset with you? Why would I be upset with you baby?” He pulled you out of the hug and caressed your soft cheeks, looking deep into your eyes with adoration.

“Because I- I have another mate and- and I’m a mess. I barely even let you kiss me, let alone sleep with or mark me. Aren’t you upset with me because you can’t- can’t have your own mate?” You sobbed out, bringing your hands to cover your face in shame.

The sight broke his heart. He didn’t want you to ever think that. Not for half a second. He loved you just the way you were and would go at whatever pace you wanted him to just to make you happy. Sure he wanted to kill your other mate, and he swore to himself he would if he ever saw him, but he’d never want you to feel bad about needing time to heal.

“No baby. I’m not mad. In my book, I already DO have you. And I understand why you wouldn’t want to do any of that yet. I don’t want to rush or push you. You’ve been through a lot” he shushed you as he pushed a lock of wet hair behind your ear.

“I promise, I Will Wait For You as long as it takes. I want whatever you want. And you don’t want to do any of that yet. So I don’t want to do any of that.” Jeonghan cupped your round face in his large hands and had you look him completely in his starry eyes.

He’s coming.

But he’s coming (Y/N).

He’s coming for you.

Do it before it’s too late.

It’s gonna be too late.

Do it before he tries to take you away.

He can take you away if you don’t.

Don’t let him take you away.

Do something while you still can.

The voices were getting stronger and more jumbled in your head as you closed your eyes to pin point what exactly it was they were wanting from you. One main thing was clear from all of them: Do it before it’s too late.

You opened your eyes and stared directly back at your mate’s face. The urgency in the voices tones scared the living hell out of you. They were so rushed and loud, you knew it couldn’t be good.

“But Jeonghan… that’s not true. I- I do want you to mark me.” You let out before the voices could continue.

Your knew what the voices were. You knew what the voices meant. You knew they meant trouble was coming. And you knew this was a surefire way to make sure no one could take you away from Jeonghan. It would solidify your bond to him.

Your words stunned him. Had he heard you right? You wanted to wait for all of that a second ago and now all of a sudden you wanted him to mark you? That couldn’t be right? Could it?

“But… (Y/N)… I thought you said-” he tried to clarify your previous point out of concerned for your new answer, before you swiftly cut him off.

“I know what I said. And I’m not sure I’m ready for full on mating just yet. But we don’t have to have sex for you to mark me. I want to be yours and only yours.” You responded, grabbing his palms that were still on your face and bringing them to your lips to place a small kiss on them.

“But you already ARE mine. And only mine. In my book we’re already official. I don’t have to mark you to-” he tried again, this time with a bit less reluctance in his voice.

“I know that you think that… and I think that too. But I- I want you to mark me so I can really officially be yours. Please? You can do it so easily. Then we won’t have to worry about it again and we can go on with our normal routine. ” you cut him off, biting your lip once your sentence was finished.

“But (Y/N), it’ll hurt. It can be very painful if it’s not done during sex. And waiting until you actually want to mate means it won’t be as traumatizing. I know you think it’s what I want but baby-” he attempted to pull his hands from your grasp so he could bring them to your hips to get you to see reason, but you wouldn’t let go. And you weren’t going to budge on what you wanted when you knew what could be coming.

“But nothing. I want you to mark me Hannie. It’ll be quick, I’ll hardly feel a thing. I want this for both of us. Not just for you.” You defied.

He searched your face for any hint of this being a joke or to see if you were just asking for it to please him. When he realized that you were serious, he looked to the floor for a moment to contain himself before he looked back at you and nodded.

Your face brightened up and your wrapped your arms around his neck, greatly stretching yourself to reach him. He then lifted your small frame up so that he could press you against the wall of the shower that was still raining upon the both of you. Your automatic reaction was to lock your legs around his waist and kiss him deeply. You could feel him get hard against your thigh and he couldn’t lie, it was killing him that he couldn’t just bury himself inside of you already or at least grind against you for some relief. But he knew that’s not what the moment was about. He pulled away from the kiss with a small grunt before he gave you one last look and spoke.

“Are you sure about this (Y/N)? Marking is kind of a permanent thing and once it’s done it can’t really be… undone. I know you want to bond completely but we can wait if you want to” He reminded you while using his hand to move all your hair to one of your shoulders, leaving the other completely exposed for him.

“I’m sure Hannie. I’m ready. I want you to mark me” you pecked his cheek in response to ease his worry.

With one more nod from you, he quickly went to work in kissing the skin of your neck, causing a small giggle to come from your lips due to the tickling feeling his eyelashes caused. He then found the sweet spot right under your ear and began to suck gently, earning a little mewl from you at the euphoric feeling. He was trying to make this as painless as he possibly could for you. He knew without you cumming when he did it, it was probably gonna make you scream in pain.

Once he thought you were fully relaxed enough, he let his fangs fall and sunk them into the apex between your neck and shoulder. You couldn’t pretend that it didn’t hurt like a bitch, but you still only let out a small whimper as you grabbed the back of his hair to hold him to you. It felt like you were being sliced by a scorching hot pitchfork and all you wanted to do was yell. However, you knew the voices would only warn you if they thought it was extremely urgent, so you knew it was for the greater good that you had him do it. You’d have him do it at some point anyways.

Even though the pain in your neck hurt like a bitch, you had a wave of euphoria hit you. Your body felt like it was vibrating and everything around you seemed to dull in brightness.

Jeonghan pulled his teeth from your skin and grazed his tongue over the wound to close it and set in the healing process. Sure it would never fully go away as there would be a scar, but at least the pain would subside faster.

After a few moments of just staring at each other and catching your breath, he now had a beautiful pink glow surrounding him and it made you feel all fuzzy inside. You didn’t just feel woozy from the new mark on your neck, but you also felt like a part of you that had been lost for so long had finally been found. He slowly sat your feet back down on the ground and turned the running water off.

“Are you okay?” Jeonghan asked you, voice laced with concern for your well-being.

“More than” you grinned at him, stepping out of the shower and throwing him a towel before you wrapped yourself in one.

You were still attempting to gain fiction back into your legs. Your vision was still shakey, but you didn’t mind. It was a small price to pay for the security of knowing your mate was now officially yours. You felt closer to him than ever.

“Are you sure?” He reiterated, not wanting to let the subject go until he knew you were completely okay after what had just happened.

“Yes Hannie, I’m sure. Now I’m yours and no one can say otherwise. And now we can go back to our little happy bubble of taking care of Wooie and hopefully going back to the room to take a nap” you joked, bringing your hand up to his face before you placed a chaste kiss right below his jaw. He smiled at the thought.

“A nap sounds like Heaven right now” he finally smiled and agreed, grabbing your hand in his before making his way to your shared room where the two other Alphas were watching his son.

They bid you guys a farewell and closed the door behind them once they realized you had just been marked, figuring you wanted some alone time together. Wooie was already sleeping in the middle of your bed, so you and Jeonghan decided to put some comfortable clothing and joined him. You drifted off to sleep with the image of your loving mate and his baby napping peacefully in front of you. You were perfectly content with staying in your little happy bubble forever. But, little did you know, your little forever was about to get torn apart…

(Updated 8/31)

#seventeen #seventeen angst #seventeen au #seventeen fanfic #seventeen fluff #seventeen smut #svt au #seventeen x reader #yoon jeonghan #svt jeonghan #jeonghan

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anakinisvaderisanakin · 3 years

Text

Seeds of the Past (aka Ahsoka and Luke FINALLY Meet) Fic

She’d waited too long to approach, long enough to make the encounter more awkward than it had to be. He didn’t know her, and she technically didn’t know him either. But she had to know, she had so many questions. She had to speak to him, to confirm the rumors, to put a face to the name that had haunted her so. She hadn’t given the kid much thought when mentioned in passing, had simply celebrated the fact that another talented young pilot had joined the ranks of the Rebellion. She’d already mostly phased out of the Alliance’s radar at that point. Then, she’d caught wind of his last name.

A Jedi, they said. Rebuilding the order, walking in his father’s footsteps. A kind, good hearted, brave young man. The phrasing sounded eerily close to the way in which she had once heard his father described. His father, the only thing they had in common. As she resolutely strode up to the boy, standing not much taller than herself - a slight build, much like his petite mother - she braced herself. All she saw was the back of a black cloak with its hood down, revealing an unruly mop of dark blonde hair. That, too, brought back memories. She took a deep breath, and opened her mouth.

“Are you Luke Skywalker?”

Ahsoka’s tone was a bit harsher than she would have liked, mostly due to a hoarse nervousness. It spurred a reaction though, as the man immediately turned to face her. Her eyes widened, as a familiar shade of blue stared back at her. The man bore a few distinct battle scars, but his face was youthful, his jaw square, his chin dimpled. His expression was surprised but gentle, sweet in its polite greeting. He raised his eyebrows for a split second, before responding with a shy smile and a nod.

“I am. Can I help you, ma’am?”

His voice was soft, and warm, and welcoming. He spoke with an inherent dignity, carried himself with grace, words slow and deliberate and neatly aligned as he spoke. But all Ahsoka could pay attention to was the fact that he had his father’s features. Anakin Skywalker’s features. Blue eyes, sandy blonde hair, boyishly handsome. Clad in black, muted colours.

But Anakin’s son, Luke, had a sweeter disposition. Luke may look like the splitting image of Anakin, but he bore his mother’s fierce, yet restrained edge. The glow in his eyes was hers, the tilt of his chin. Luke was calm, collected, and his small half smile gave off a curious, yet knowing impression. It suited him, and Ahsoka realized she was blatantly staring. She realized she hadn’t even answered his question in turn.

“No. I mean, yes. It’s complicated. I only wanted to see you in person,” she finally said, her sincere tone earning her a perplexed pout.

“See me? Well, I’m afraid I’m not much to look at,” said Luke, another genuine smile gracing his features and Ahsoka recognized Anakin’s sarcasm, his rambunctious sense of humor in the boy - although Luke’s sarcasm was much more mellow and humble than overtly smarmy.

“You look so much like Anakin,” she blurted out without thinking.

Ahsoka had initially wanted to ease Luke into breaching the subject of his paternal legacy, but found it impossible to restrain herself. His expression conveyed some shock, followed by a forlorn sadness as a sombre sense of understanding came over him. Ahsoka gave him an apologetic look, but sensed no emotional discomfort from the boy. It gave her enough courage to continue.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to spring that on you.”

Luke shook his head, still clearly taken aback but his posture was just as inviting as before.

“It’s alright. I’m kind of used to it,” he shrugged and grimaced a bit, then the prevalent curiosity Ahsoka had noticed previously bubbled back up to the surface. “You knew my father?”

“I did, many years ago.”

Ahsoka hoped it came off right. She’d sometimes found herself questioning whether she ever truly knew Anakin at all. The man she had looked up to and admired as an older brother had been jovial, carefree, easy going. Not the sort of man who would fall to the Dark Side, not the sort of man who would committ genocide and murder children. None of the brooding, budding darkness within Anakin that she had come to realize must always have lay dormant.

Anakin had been a perpetual optimist, in her eyes. The Anakin she had seen, the Anakin she had felt but refused to acknowledge until the truth was staring in her right in the face was anything but. Luke had gone to face him and Palpatine alone, how had he lived to tell the tale? Luke seemed so pure and innocent, incorruptible even - but so had Anakin.

“He was my master,” Ahsoka added after some deliberation.

Luke nodded, sharing her grieved expression.

“You’re Ahsoka Tano, aren’t you?”

This time it was Ahsoka’s turn to be surprised, and she tilted her head to the side, scrutinizing the boy’s friendly disposition.

“You’ve heard of me?”

“Just a bit. Father has… spoken of you. Not much, but enough for me to know who you are and what you meant to him,” Luke admitted, and his expression mirrored the apologetic look Ahsoka had shot him earlier. “You and Obi-Wan were such important parts of his life.”

Still visibly sad, there was a jagged edge to Luke’s Force signature upon being reminded of his father’s legacy and the monster he had become - the monster who was thankfully remembered as a separate entity in the wake of his death. Ahsoka furrowed her brow, not understanding what Luke was hinting at, but she accepted it for now. Somewhere deep inside, the knowledge that Anakin had spoken fondly of her and Obi-Wan even whilst overtaken by darkness soothed her. In her youth, Ahsoka may have found it impossible to bide her time and patiently wait for Luke to open up, but now, a kinship needed to be established first hand. She wanted to learn more about Luke, where he had been all this time, and she could sense he wanted to find out what her past held as well.

“I… have so many questions for you, Luke. And hopefully some answers to the questions you wish to ask me, in turn,” she said, almost amused by how similar to Obi-Wan her phrasing came off.

Luke appeared to catch the same vibe, as the corner of his lips twisted slightly upwards. He looked bashful, almost, like a small child. Then again, he was barely more than a child. When Ahsoka was his age, she had already seen war and death for one lifetime - and it was only the beginning. It pained her to know Luke may be dealing with a similarly difficult burden.

“I’m certain you’re right, Ahsoka. Can I call you that?”

Luke’s eyes were questioning her with a hopeful yet timid reverence.

“Yes, of course,” was all she could reply, offering him a warm smile as she reached out by habit and squeezed his shoulder for encouragement.

“In that case, let us talk about it,” Luke said as soon as he was given the go ahead, and Ahsoka could do nothing but agree with the statement.

---------------

Because we all want this to happen in canon, and I can't wait for the moment when it eventually does. I imagine it might go a bit like this, when Ahsoka and Luke finally do get to share the screen together and discuss Anakin's impact on their lives past and present.

Ao3 link below:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/31695377

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iconfusionwastaken · 2 years

Text

The Raining Flashback Scene & The General

Just finished watching a let's play again & read the TvTropes page for this game, & oh boy am I gonna talk about this game.

I wanted to talk about this 1 scene in Dust: An Elysian Tail & some of my own headcanons.

Note that this post contains late game spoilers, please don't read it if you wanna go in the game as blind as you can.

CWs are under the cut, but you know what to expect if you've played this game.

CWs for: Mentions of child death, murder, genocide, & a pic depicting a child corpse.

These moments will be in bold, let me know if I need to add more CWs or bold anything else.

TL:DR: Jin & Cassius are people 1st & foremost, they aren't innocence & strength incarnate respectively. Jin confronted Cassius because he wanted to avenge his parent w/ what little power he had. Cassius, much more skilled, struck him down, but didn't instantly kill him. What if Cassius in a moment of kindness held & comforted the boy as he died, but he put his guard down & Jin used that to land a killing blow? That explains how

What's interesting is that Jin is said to be an innocent soul but he died killing somebody. Cassius is said to be powerful & heartless, but he died comforting someone he was bringing to death.

Gaius--under the belief Dust was his friend Cassius--kindly gave Dust space & left him to his own devices until the very end. A rare act of kindness for the man who helped carry out a genocide.

----------------

We've all seen the flashback of right before Jin & Cassius's final moments, we see them both jump at eachother, but never the aftermath, we just know they both died. There's speculation on what this aftermath is, & what people on TvTropes had to say got me thinking.

There's the reason both Jin & Cassius's souls were used to form Dust, not only did they both die at the same time, but they would always be in conflict w/ eachother because of the differences in their ideals, preventing Dust from ever leaning to far into 1 side.

Jin's soul is said to be 1 of innocence, while Cassius's soul is said to be 1 of power. Of course, they're both people at the end of the day, they're not incarnations of these traits, nor will they do everything they do be in the name of innocence or power.

When Cassius killed Jin & Ginger's parents, Jin decided to avenge his parents in a violent manner, even if he didn't have the strength to overpower Cassius.

Cassius of course won, he's 1 of Falana's most skilled warriors, what could a kid do against him? Cassius did say he didn't like killing kids, but he made the concious choice to do it anyways.

This fight was against Jin from the very start, so how could the kid kill the assassin?

Enter the game's cover artwork

I want to specifically focus on how the man that looks like Dust is holding a limp body that's likely dead. This never happens in the game, but you know who looks like Dust & wears an outfit like that? Cassius, & others before me suggested that it's him holding Jin's dying body in the cover.

I wanna bring this to your attention again:

Cassius claimed to dislike the idea of killing young people, especially children

Cassius couldn't have just lost to a teenager who wasn't as skilled as him in fight

The cover art implying Cassius held Jin's body as he died

Elder Gray Eyes said Cassius's pride & arrogance got him killed, but maybe it's more than that

Cassius is still a person, & people can feel a range of emotions, even guilt, or sympathy

What if Cassius comforted a dying Jin as the boy passed, didn't guard himself or worry about Jin trying to do anything anymore, & just focussing on being kind to the boy he attacked moments before.

Jin, however still had strength, & Cassius had his guard down, the assasin wasn't focussing on using his strength to keep himself safe. Jin could finally overpower him.

Jin could fatally strike Cassius & so now they would both die, but Jin could finally get the vengence he seeked.

You know what makes this interesting? Jin who's meant to serve as the caring side of Dust chose to get a blade, chose to confront Cassius & try to defeat him, only to be struck down, but once he got an opening, he killed Cassius.

Cassius meanwhile, meant to be the powerful side of Dust, decided to be kind for once, let his guard down, & comfort Jin as he died, only for it to end w/ his death.

Jin died after making a choice of power, Cassius died after making a choice of kindness. One might expect it to be the other way around, but it isn't.

If you pay attention though, Jin made 2 decisions, Cassius made 1.

Jin's 1st decision of power was confronting Cassius & his 2nd choice was killing the assassin while his guard was done. IDK what to make of this though.

You're all probably wondering why I mentioned General Gaius in the title & where he comes into this.

Well, Gaius's demise is arguably the result of his own kindness to Dust, like how Cassius fell thanks to being kind to Jin. Yes, Gaius was under the belief Dust was Cassius, even when Dust did things Cassius would never do, but I think my point still stands.

Gaius could've ordered that Dust immedietly be brought to him, that his soldiers confront him, but he nor his army never intervened w/ Dust's journey until Zeplich village & the final battle.

Gaius gave Dust personal space like a good friend. Gaius is undeniably a bad person, but for someone he cared for, he showed mercy & he paid the price.

Gaius & Cassius--who canonically worked towards a complete genocide--both died because some of their last actions were acts of kindness.

They let their guard down & thus paid the price for all their sins.

#dust an elysian tail #Elysian Tail Spoilers #Raining Flashback DAET #DAET HCs #long post.#Essay

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zerogate · 3 years

Text

His plunge into metaphysics gradually changed Elvis. He grew more circumspect, more mature. His own transformation put a damper on the activities of the Memphis Mafia, ending much of the sophomoric behavior they were known for on film sets—the horsing around, shaving-cream fights, lobbing of cherry bombs, etc.

He had always been generous, but now he strove to do so in an impersonal manner, selflessly, trying not to have ulterior motives. He gave away cars, motorcycles, jewelry, and personal possessions merely because he thought it would bring happiness to someone. Every step he took on the new path of spiritual discovery further energized him. He sensed that he was entering a new phase of life, and that some secret was about to be revealed to him. Feeling a need to overcome worldly temptations and cleanse himself physically and spiritually, he began to meditate daily and ordered a meditation garden built on the grounds at Graceland...

Over the next few years he would read a thousand or more books about metaphysical subjects. Simply by scanning some of the titles we can gain some idea of what interested Elvis and of the depth of his spiritual quest. He read Isis Unveiled and The Secret Doctrine by Helena Blavatsky, George Gurdjieff’s Meetings with Remarkable Men, and P. D. Ouspensky’s The Fourth Way. He read The Urantia Book, Manly Palmer Hall’s The Mystical Christ and The Secret Teachings of All Ages, The Chakras by C. W. Leadbeater, and Jiddu Krishnamurti’s You Are the World. He read Pyramidology: The Science of the Divine Message of the Great Pyramid by Adam Rutherford, The Holy Kabbalah by A. E. Waite, and Hermann Hesse’s Siddhartha...

As time went on he kept requesting more and more books from Geller, and he loved to keep them at his disposal. Wherever he traveled, the Mafia had to transport a personal library of two hundred volumes...

===

Late that day they had reached northern Arizona and were driving on Route 66 in the vicinity of Flagstaff. A lull had settled over the vehicle, the result of many hours on the road. Suddenly Geller heard Elvis punctuate the stillness with a “Whoa!” His eyes were focused on the sky ahead. Geller looked there too and saw a strange cloud. “Do you see what I see?” Elvis asked. Geller did.

The lone cloud had taken the form of a human face—and not just any face. Both of them instantly recognized the thick moustache and heavy eyebrows of the late leader of the Soviet Union—Joseph Stalin. Though he had died twelve years earlier, Stalin still represented evil incarnate. He had ordered hundreds of thousands of executions during his decades in power, caused the deaths of hundreds of thousands more by relocating populations, incarcerated fourteen million people in the Gulag, exiled millions more to Siberia, caused famines in which millions of others died, and conducted genocide against such groups as the Ukrainians.

They watched the cloud in amazement. Elvis kept mumbling, “Why Stalin? Why Stalin?” Finally the face changed. The cloud shifted and lost the likeness. Geller glanced over at Elvis, intending to comment. For some reason, Elvis was still transfixed. He had the look of Juan Diego at Guadalupe or Bernadette at Lourdes. Geller hesitated to interrupt.

Then Elvis jammed on the brakes and pulled to the side of the road. He jumped out of the vehicle, calling to Geller to follow him, and went running into the desert. He hugged Geller when Geller caught up with him, and kept babbling about God being love. He kept telling Geller that he loved him. He kept saying that he felt filled with divine love. He kept repeating that God was love itself. As he became more coherent, he made clear what had been happening when Geller had seen him transfixed.

Elvis kept asking himself why the cloud had taken the form of Stalin. Was God trying to send him a message? Was God showing him a projection of his inner self? Elvis recoiled. In his mind he cried out to God—saying that if that face of evil was meant to represent him, then he wanted God to destroy him. He wanted only to be filled with God and love. “And then it happened!” he told Geller. “The face of Stalin turned right into the face of Jesus, and he smiled at me, and every fiber of my being felt it. For the first time in my life, God and Christ are a living reality.”

Geller had not seen the second face. Only Elvis had. They were standing there stunned when Red West came hurrying toward them. He wanted to know if Elvis was all right. Elvis assured him that he was fine. They walked back to the vehicle. Wanting only to revisit the memory again and again to savor the experience, Elvis moved to the back and let Red take over the driving. He would revel in his religious epiphany for the rest of that night. Geller accompanied him in spirit.

In the early morning hours he finally admitted to Elvis that, five years earlier, in the very same region of Arizona, he had had his own religious experience. He, a Jew, had received a message confirming that Jesus was the Christ. Once more Elvis was struck with wonder—in exactly the same location they both had had a profound mystical experience. But there was even more to it. Elvis had experienced a revelation so intensely private that he felt he could not share it with anyone, not even Geller. He would carry the burden of that revelation, hidden away in his own heart, for another nine years...

Priscilla was convinced that Elvis had a healing touch. “He was capable of spiritual healing, one touch of his hands to my temples and the most painful headaches disappeared.” So was Jerry Schilling, who had spent two weeks in a hospital after a motorcycle accident and had begun to worry that he would never be able-bodied afterward. Though he refused to think of it as anything mystical, the nagging pain did leave while Elvis was treating him. Elvis’s grandmother Minnie Mae was also convinced, and she allowed Geller and her famous grandson to treat her arthritis and other ailments over the years...

Sonny West acknowledged Elvis’s belief in his capabilities, although he was dubious about the capabilities themselves: “Elvis announced that he possessed psychic healing powers and could cure the common cold or other ailments through his simple touch. He also thought he could make leaves move and turn the sprinkler system of the Bel Air Country Club on and off through telekinesis.” However, years later, when West’s infant son had a high fever, Elvis asked if he could come and pray over him. He donned a turban and placed the child on a green scarf and began to pray while making circular motions over him. The boy’s temperature soon dropped to below 100 and did not go up again. West admitted that he and his wife were “amazed.”

-- Gary Tillery, The Seeker King: A Spiritual Biography of Elvis Presley

#quotes

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ripley95 · 3 years

Text

A Cursed Blessing

Read on AO3

Rating: T

Word Count: ~1200

Content warnings: Referenced/implied major character death

Synopsis: Kaidan learns to live after Shepard chooses synthesis.

Notes: This is a gift for @ljandersen who gave me the idea to write this a long time ago.

It covers the apples he picks up from the market. It glistens off of the faces of smiling civilians still thriving on the high of survival after the war. He even sees it in the mirror when he wakes. He sees it on his fingers as he rubs his eyes, heavy from nights without sleep. It's inescapable, this new green sheen to everything. He thinks new because he'll never be used to it, but in truth, it's been months. It was now normal. A new way of being. Permanent. He can't decide if it's a blessing or a curse. Maybe it's both.

Chakwas tried to explain it to him. Organics now had DNA interlaced with tech, and tech had traces of DNA. She goes on about how generations down the road won't even be able to determine a difference between organics and synthetics. Something like that, anyway. He can't bring himself to listen. Maybe he will someday when it's not so raw, but not now. All he knows is that the Crucible had burst in an explosion of green. The moment they had crashed the Normandy on that planet and found themselves stranded, they were all covered in it. Even EDI. Even the leaves on the trees. It's all he really needs to know.

He looks up at the sky every morning, and there are hues of green even afflicting the Reapers. They're still here. It's then that he knows it's a curse. They should be gone. Destroyed. But instead, they're still here. He takes a sip of his coffee and reminds himself that they're helping now. He can see them repairing the Citadel tirelessly. He hears of them fixing the relays. Hackett's even briefed him on how they've begun to share their well of knowledge of civilizations that came before their own. It's all thanks to them that their future is projected to propel forward in previously unthinkable ways. He feels calm at the thought of it all briefly and acknowledges that things aren't how they used to be. He and the Reapers aren't so different anymore. But he can't forget the past. He can't trust that they're not still capable of turning on them and committing genocide. He knows that civilization wouldn't be nearly as put back together without their help, and he knows it's not so easy to be rid of them. He eases and grants them the benefit of the doubt that perhaps it's not entirely a curse, but he won't admit they're a blessing.

He sees the husks helping rebuild in droves. Once grotesque reanimations of humans, asari and turians with the sole purpose to harvest are now breathing and civilized and have lives of their own. They are no longer hordes meant to kill. They're functional and cooperative. He laments at the thought that his father could be among them. He doesn't know what to make of them, and he can't decide if it's a blessing or a curse.

He visits the refugee camps regularly. It's one of his assignments to ensure they're well supplied. The whole area emits a dull green glow. He sees all of the races coming together in celebration. They've built a playground since the last time he was here. There's a group of them planting trees and another cooking enough food for the whole settlement. He even gets an invitation to join them in their festivities. He accepts. The laughter of children's voices fills his ears. Stories get passed around the table with ease. There's camaraderie and friends and family. He smiles at the thought. People have come together, and they get to live. They're happy. It's why he joined the Alliance. Why he fought in the war. This. This is what he puts his life on the line for with every mission. It's in these moments he knows it's a blessing.

He turns in the middle of the night and moves his arm to envelope a body that isn't there. His fingers brush the empty pillow. He opens his eyes to see his arm, covered in green. He feels tears begin to form. He shuts his eyes tight and presses his fingers gently against his eyelids, and still sees green. Everything's green. He curses it and wants to scream. Just one night, he doesn't want the reminder. He clings the empty pillow tightly to his chest and imagines how he used to brush her hair out of her face as she slept. He remembers that this green sheen was because of her. The thought of it quiets his breath. He trusts in her decision. It was an end to the war, even if it wasn't how they'd planned it. He still doesn't know what happened up there, but he knows he would have done anything to stop the war. He knows he may very well have done the exact same thing as Shepard had their positions been reversed. It's a small comfort. He reminds himself that they'd won, and the war is over, and that's all that should matter. He willfully reaffirms that this is a blessing as much as it feels like a curse. He bunches the pillow up closer to his face and is saddened that it no longer smells like her. It hasn't for quite some time now. Eventually, he finds fitful sleep.

He walks down the street, and the green is everywhere. It adorns the faces of everyone he walks past. He can't help but think that Shepard will never get to experience this green glow. He thinks of how he'll never get to intertwine their green fingers as he shows her around Vancouver. He makes his way to the ocean where his old apartment used to be. He dreamed of showing this view to her one day. Even the ocean is green now, thanks to the seaweed and fish. He turns to his side and looks down to where their hands would have joined and knows of Shepard's absence. He knows it all too well at this point. He closes his eyes and looks up towards the sun. The green still shines through his eyelids. He hears birds chirping, the wind rustling through the leaves. He hears the waves crash against the sand. He hears people talking. He hears a city bustling with life. He opens his eyes and sees green everywhere and lets it really sink in this time, that this was Shepard's choice. All of these people get to live. It's what she wanted. She would be happy to know of this success. He finally realises he's been seeing it wrong this whole time. He's been too focused on Shepard's absence that he hasn't noticed her presence. He turns his head and sees the green glow in the trees. He sees the green in the ocean and the green on people's faces. He smiles at the thought of it solemnly because Shepard is everywhere. He's beginning to understand that things can coexist. Perhaps it is both a blessing and a curse, but at least for today, it's a blessing.

#mass effect fanfiction #mass effect #fanfiction #f!Shenko #Kaidan Alenko #fShepard #Synthesis ending #post-canon #post reaper war #angst #grief #canon character death #referenced character death #my writing #my fic on tumblr

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bellamybellamyblake · 3 years

Text

Six Years (Part 2)

Pairing:

Past/Eventual Bellamy Blake x Fem!Kane!Reader, Platonic Octavia Blake

Summary:

Octavia knew who she was now, but you couldn’t figure out what the hell you had become.

Warning:

ANGST, themes of addiction, depictions of depression/lowkey anxiety, self destructive behavior? ✨cannibalism✨

Word Count:

1.4k ~roughly~

A/N:

not that much bell in this chapter and i absolutely hate it but it’s just a filler so .... enjoy if that’s at all possible. if the format is confusing, lmk and i’ll either switch it up for explain :)

“You have to come back. I’ll never forgive you if you don’t.” Your voice had been broken for almost an hour and the only thing you could do was whimper; the tears that stained your face were meaningless, now. You didn’t want to think it, but the idea that they might take too long and get caught in the death wave was suffocating. A pressure started to weigh on you chest, consuming you until your hands were almost quivering. You shook your head, trying to push the thought away.

“Hey,” Bellamy breathed, bringing both hands to the sides of your face and resting his forehead against yours - he knew it wasn’t enough, but his word and touch was all he had left to give. “This isn’t a goodbye, right? I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“This is a stupid fucking plan,” You said, loud enough for the others to hear. Had the situation not been so dire, you would’ve let out a small chuckle at the loud, ‘we know!’ Murphy gave in response.

He let the humor give him some comfort for a moment and a quiet laugh shook his shoulders. “Yeah, it is. But we can’t just leave Raven. You know that.”

You wished he wasn’t right but nodded nonetheless. Squeezing your eyes shut, you knew you were being selfish. Raven would certainly die if they didn’t get her. At least they’re trying to give her a chance to see a possible brighter day.

But why did it always have to be Bellamy?

“What happens if-”

“Stop it. Don’t think like that, we’ll be fine. I’ll be fine.”

You shook your head in agreement, not wanting to spend this precious time thinking about the what ifs. A few moments of silence passed with you two drinking the other in; trying to soak up all you could in the limited time you had to spare. This wasn’t supposed to be a goodbye but it sure as hell felt like one. Your hand cupped his face and the other was rested on his neck. You could feel the amount of effort he was putting into not completely breaking down. It was in his cheekbones, his nose, his perpetually furrowed brow, the curve of his jaw. His neck, his eyelashes, his lips.

He was trying so hard to make you not worry.

Has he met you?

Nothing could shake the bad feeling crawling up your spine. You couldn’t stop the sob that threatened to escape, one final plea for the man you couldn’t lose. “Please come back to me,”

Just like that, he pulled away to meet your eyes, making a declaration you’d begin to hate him for.

“Always.”

You hadn’t seen nor felt the sun for six years. The hole in the ceiling let the first of its rays create a spotlight in the pit. For just one fleeting moment, you closed your eyes and allowed yourself to enjoy it. Cocooned in the familiar warmth, you embraced the feeling, like greeting an old friend.

Had it not been there, your favorite pair of eyes would’ve been stern and dark; now, they were a gentle whiskey, basking in the heat of the star. If Bellamy was looking at you in any other way, you’d be able to focus on how much they felt like home. How as soon as you laid your red-rimmed orbs on his, it felt like there was finally the smallest possibility of a maybe.

You couldn’t explain what it was or why, but you knew it was something.

When he looked at you like you were a threat, though, the shadowy, unnamed dread you had gotten so used to filled your stomach. The sudden apprehension that adorned his face ripped you from the only fallacy you’d let yourself give any mirth to. Bringing you back to the real world with a punch to the cheek.

The bright and divine amber sun meant nothing if you had no one to share it with.

Letting the axe fall from your hand, you crashed out of the arena before anyone could act quick enough to stop you - they were too distracted. You fell into your bedroom and immediately became submerged in water; riptides pulling you down and all you could do was let it happen. They say if you fight a riptide it’ll only kill you faster, kind of like quicksand.

The distance between you and reality kept growing and you didn’t even think it was worth trying to bring your head up for air. Trapped within the merciless depths of the ocean, there were weights around your neck, forcing you lower and lower and lower.

But it was all just numb, like you had been reduced to nothing.

This is why the morphine was so important - not only did it bless you with dreamless sleeps, but it made the decision for you. It made all the faces blend together. Miller wasn’t one of your oldest friends, Marcus wasn’t your father, Octavia was nowhere to be found and Bellamy...

Well, he never really existed at all.

So, you checked your hiding spot for the next best thing. Maybe this time you’d float to the surface. Maybe you’d drown.

You didn’t really care either way.

A disgusted scoff broke through the doorway, an intentional slice of the thickening tension in the room. It didn’t take a genius to know who it was.

“Pathetic.”

“Since when did you care, Bloodreina?” You nearly spat, cutting the raven haired woman with the title like it was the one thing she didn’t want you to call her. You convinced yourself that your words hurt her more than they did you. With moonshine glued to your hand, you took a very large pull from the bottle, inviting the well-known haze to set over your eyes.

“I don’t,” She said, cold and detached as ever. It was a tone you’d never heard her use with you; one reserved for the enemies that didn’t want to comply. You guessed that was all you were to her, now. “But there can only be one champion and only one Kane is useful to me.”

“What-”

“You and your father fight in two days. Win and be reinstated or lose and die. Choose not to fight, and I’ll kill both of you myself.”

She wasn’t bluffing, that you knew. But there was no fucking way you were going let her near him. You didn’t know how to react, though, given what you had almost just done. It didn’t even feel like it was you. As if you were a horse and someone else was controlling the reins - pulling, pushing, grabbing, forcing you to do all these things you never would’ve done before those doors closed.

All you knew was that more than anyone else in this underground hell, Marcus Kane was the one who deserved to get out.

A bitter smirk pulled at the corner of your lips, but your eyes stayed the same; gaunt and defeated. “Sure you want to lose your best executioner?”

You just have to take a bite.

At the silent glare from your queen - the first sign of any kind of emotion you’d seen from her in a while - a sneer slipped onto your face into your voice. “Well, then, at least you’ll actually be the one doing it for a damn change.”

Octavia’s scared voice cut through the room, a shudder breaking through, all but tearing you into pieces. It was low and gravelly, the complete opposite to when she was still the girl under the floor. “We’re back bitches!” felt like centuries ago, now.

“You said we had five years. We’ve only been down here for two.”

Cooper, the woman running the farm, quickly started to defend that she’d already done everything she could think of to try to eradicate the fungus that was taking over your crop supply. She said she saved a few plants, but that it wasn’t enough. Indra inevitably cut her off, being as straightforward as usual. The dark-skinned woman brought up the one thing you hoped no one would acknowledge.

“How long?”

You heaved in a breath at her words, you wished you weren’t there. You wished you were allowed to be as ignorant and innocent as the others. Abby’s detached and unwavering voice saying that there was only one potential solution was deafening. It shredded your ears, a grinding you’d never be able to escape.

This was worse than anything you’ve had to deal with while being on this fucking planet. Worse than watching your father be tortured into taking the chip. Worse than a drill digging into your back while being fully conscious. Worse than watching the Mount Weather genocide - feeling like it was so wrong, despite what they had put you through. You just hoped and prayed that the ends justify the means.

“No.” Tears had already found their way onto your cheeks as you choked the lonely letters out. You were the only one sitting down, but your legs still shook. Your eyes had closed minutes ago and your head stayed between your shoulders. You had never felt so defeated. “Please.”

When the next three little words left Indra’s mouth, you knew nothing would ever be the same again.

And no amount of moonshine or morphine was enough to dull that incessant nightmare.

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blueluneacy · 4 years

Text

Tears of the Abandoned

I made a kars/reader. Bc I could. Fucking enjoy

Warnings: kars wins Au, yandere, major character death, literal genocide, just general nastiness, blood, biting

You had been in the mountains for days. You were starting to wonder if all of this talk or a temple out here was a myth. Maybe it was all just supposed to be a legend for people like you to get lost in the mountains, unable to find any piece of hope. But you had to try, you had to. There was nothing else you could do.

You knew that there would be no one left there, Straizo had made sure of that, the sick bastard. But you hoped, prayed even, that there was some texts remaining there, anything to try and get information on how to defeat the menace that had come over your world. Joseph never returned after Kars became the Ultimate Being. You could only assume the worst for him, for your friends. When you thought about it, you tried to hold back your tears, holding onto what your teacher, Lisa Lisa had told you, how for generations Hamon was taught out here, that there might be some sort of hope to kill what was essentially unkillable, and now taking over the earth. It was hard to run from someone so powerful, but your head start was certainly helpful. You silently thanked Joseph for keeping Kars busy for so long that you were able to get out of there, to start your journey across the world. You had no doubt that Kars was after you, hoping to snuff you out like he had done to the rest of your friends. The last Hamon user, and it was someone as pitiful as you. That had to be the most pathetic thing you’ve ever heard.

But still, you had something on your side, and that was your own stubbornness. If you gave up, the world didn’t have any more hope. You loathed to think about what was happening to humanity now that it was in the care of that monster, about what this world would become if you didn’t figure out a way to stop him, and quick. So, you kept walking, kept following the river in hopes of finding it. Trying to keep your mind off the guilt you felt, the responsibility in your mind you knew you didn’t bear but your heart sang was yours. You tried not to think about Kars, about how his eyes always pierced into his soul, how when he first saw you with Caesar and JoJo, he merely licked his lips as if looking at the most delightful snack. How when the two of you fought, his words were confident, teasing as he always easily defeated you. Even with whatever you could scrap together from the temple, would it be enough? You couldn’t even go toe to toe with the Pillarman before. Now look at you. Alone in the wilderness, hungry and tired. It was hard not to think about it all. About the hopelessness that threatened to creep into your heart, to give up and let yourself give into whatever this new world order was going to be.

But all those thoughts were set aside as you saw a building in the distance, your voice catching in your thought. Finally, finally after all this time, days of being on edge, wondering if even sleeping was safe for fear that you would wake up with teeth ripping out your throat, you were here. You practically bolted over to the temple, uncaring of the footprints you had been so careful to hide before. You smiled as you saw the stone, the wonderful sight leaving unwarranted joy to sprout up in your chest. It had to be here, it had to be! As you got to the doorway, seeing how plants had weaved their way into the stone, a pang in realizing the signs of disuse. You kept moving, setting your things down as you took a moment to take a deep breath. On one hand, it sounded wonderful to rest for a moment, to look for food and get to recovering from your journey. On the other, you were running on stolen time as it is. No doubt was Kars looking for you, and finding this place would just be the cherry on top to him. You needed to find what you needed and get out of here, for the sake of the world. It dimly occurred to you that since you were the only one left, technically it would be your responsibility to train the next generation of Hamon users. Man, either way, the world really was fucked.

You treaded lightly, as to not disturb the dust too much, looking through the building. Your hope started to drain as you barely found anything, just the remnants of people who used to live here. Plates, old clothes, but not one scrap of paper. It was like someone had specifically tried to get rid of… Oh no. The realization dawned on you as you began to tear through the temple, hoping to find something, anything, that when Straizo destroyed most of the Hamon users, he didn’t destroy their knowledge with them. You found a doorway that seemed to be locked, leaving you to almost cry out in frustration, banging on the door until finally you gave in and gave it a sharp Hamon kick to knock the damn thing down. When you saw what was inside though, you wanted to wail.

Ash. The room was covered in ash, scraps of paper that were once part of books now nothing but tinder. Everything, it was all gone. The knowledge of generations, destroyed and lost forever. Ancient techniques with any hope of you finding a way to defeat the Ultimate Being now destroyed, you couldn’t help but fall to your knees…. And just sob. All this, all the sacrifices made. The way Caesar gave his life on his battle with Whamuu, the way Joseph and Lisa Lisa distracted Kars for you to get away in hopes that you would find something, anything, to save everyone… It was all gone. It was all for nothing. You cried, cried for everything that was gone, all because of him. All because of everyone, this toppling domino effect that you had the misfortune of being at the end of. The world really was cruel.

“I see that it’s gone. What a shame.” You tensed up as you heard the voice behind you, low and obviously satisfied as his piercing eyes tore through you, eating up your despair. You just swallowed, trying to pull yourself together. You knew that you were going to die, but you at least wanted there to be some sort of dignity in it. You would die like a warrior, not sniveling over what was lost.

“You’re faster than I thought. But would it kill you to knock before just barging in? I could’ve gotten ready and made us some tea.” You turned to face your enemy, this monster that threatened to ruin everything, who already had, in a way. You tried to ignore the puffiness of your eyes, already getting yourself ready for a fight. You knew you would lose, but it didn’t matter. At least, you might be able to see your friends soon.

“You’re already itching to fight? You should already know that it’s useless.” Kars told you, stepping forward into range of you. You growled, easily swinging your leg to hit him in the side with a sharp Hamon kick. Kars paused for a moment, simply grabbing your leg and gripping it tight, pulling your forward. You gasped and lost your balance, falling to the ground. You let out a yelp as your head hit the ground, your vision going just a little hazy as Kars took advantage of the moment, descending upon you and easily taking your wrists into one hand, pinning them above your head. It was like Kars just absorbed the blow, not even flinching at what you did. You tried to swallow back your fear, putting on a brave face.

“You’re stubborn, just like the rest. How poetic, the last Hamon user in the temple I once attempted to destroy thousands of years ago. There’s nothing left, nowhere left for you to run…” Kars purred into your ear, leaving you to gulp as his satisfaction from the ordeal didn’t feel simply like the satisfaction of defeating an enemy. Still, you let yourself grit your teeth, squirming and growling back at the terrible thing.

“I won’t be the last Hamon user. I know someone out there, somehow, will know how to defeat you. They will avenge me. They’ll avenge all of us, and most importantly, destroy you.” You replied, vitriol spilling out into your words. Kars just stopped, thinking about your words, before laughing heartily at your declaration.

“Oh, you poor poor thing. You’ve been in the mountains so long that you haven’t seen the state of the world out there. How pathetic.” Kars chuckled, leaving you to swallow as your eyes went wide, trying to convince yourself that it was a lie, that he wanted you to wonder what he meant, wanted to snuff out the hope in your heart before he finally ended your life. He was toying with his prey, and yet you couldn’t help but still ask.

“What the hell are you talking about? What did you do?!” You tried to sound fierce, angry, but in the end all you sounded was desperate.

“Well, I didn’t do anything. It just became terribly difficult to control my army once victory was secured. You know how they are, wanting to bask in their victory. There are a few small pockets of humans left, of course, but… Well, they’ve fallen in line quite nicely.” Kars’ voice was sickeningly pleased, leaving you just to swallow. God, did they really… Oh god, in just that short of a time? You weren’t sure you could take on Kars, much less an army. God, oh god, oh god, there really was no hope left. Not for you, or for anyone else.

“I… I hate you. You sicken me. I’ll see you in hell one day, Kars, mark my words.” You growled, before resigning yourself to death, awaiting Kars’ witty comeback before he slit your throat. You tried not to tense up when his sharp teeth got close to your neck, but… His teeth never tore open your neck like you thought they would.

“Oh, my dear, I think there might be a misunderstanding. You aren’t going to die, not today.” He growled, before giving into temptation and letting his teeth sink into your neck, easily drinking from you as you cried out and squirmed, trying to break free from his grasp. Oh god, was he planning to turn you into a zombie? What irony would it be if you became a mindless puppet, unable to resist his commands for all eternity? You growled, looking for some way out of this mess, before realizing where exactly your leg was situated. Kars had slotted your legs between his own to try and hold you still, but as he lost himself in the taste of your blood, his hold on them loosened, giving you a severe edge. If this didn’t work, well, that was gonna suck, but if it did… Well, no one can say you never went down without a fight. It was now or never, Kars was relaxed as his tongue began to run over the wound on your neck, lapping up the excess blood he had missed. You swallowed, reared your leg back as best you could, and straight up kicked Kars in the dick.

He hissed out in pain, his grip loosening as he curled over, and it was enough for you to quickly wriggle free, quickly running out of the room. You heard Kars roar your name, and you knew that he wasn’t that far behind you. But, you had the advantage of being smaller, more nimble, and in a facility built by and for Hamon users. You had no doubt there would be some sort of hidden door in here, or something only unlocked by Hamon, something you knew that Kars wouldn’t be able to get through. Kars would be lumbering after you, much larger than you and having trouble getting through doorways. You kept on moving, gasping as you heard Kars’ heavy footsteps behind you, running down a flight of stairs. I mean, you couldn’t just go out into the wilderness, Kars would oh so easily be able to just fly over and pluck you up. But you knew that he would stay here until he found you, unless he thought you had somehow escaped. But for now, you just had to figure out a way to beat him, to at least be free of him for a moment, so you could collect all the information you had obtained in your brain and try to come up with a game plan. You just gulped, panicking as you heard Kars coming closer, far too close to be comfortable, before just… Going behind a cabinet. Was it the best hiding place? No. Was it the only option right now? Yeah.

You heard Kars pause when he reached the bottom of the staircase, looking around and actually… Humming, as if amused by all this.

“It was impressive that you were able to get past me like this, but this hiding place is just poor. Did you really never train here? No wonder your Hamon is so lacking. You were never meant to be a master, dear.” Kars’ voice was so matter of fact, leaving you to just grit your teeth. He was weaseling his way into one of your biggest insecurities, about how you were the weakest of your group, and you hated him for it.

“Always so determined and stubborn, but not even your teacher could defeat me. You have never been able to even land a solid blow on me before, though your attempts were always cute. But that’s over now. I’m willing to make you a deal, to give up a lot more in comparison than what you have to give.” He spoke smoothly, carefully. You could tell he was trying to keep his ears perked up, to listen closely in case you gasped or moved. But you kept still, kept listening, hoping that something, anything would happen for you to gain some sort of advantage.

“There’s a reason why you aren’t already dead where you stand, sweetling. You’re meant to be mine, to be by my side. I know deep down, you know that too. Everything that has happened has led up to this point. To when you finally give in to me.” You felt Kars lean against the cabinet you were behind, beginning to slowly crush you, and you just tried to keep your cool, to stop yourself from gasping out in pain. When it finally seemed like too much, that maybe you were finally going to die or at least cry out from it all, Kars cursed to himself.

“A window? How could I have not spotted that? Damn brat…” You heard him grumble and pull off the cabinet, walking over to the other side of the room. There was some rustling, before you heard him just grumble again and pull himself up, before the sound of feet in the snow seemed to make you calm down. You let out a small sigh, waiting just a few more minutes before you stepped out from behind the cabinet, looking around to make sure this wasn’t a trap. You began to walk up the stairs carefully, becoming more and more confident as you moved through the temple. When you finally walked past the library the two of you started at, you felt just a little confident as you began to walk to the entrance to grab your things and get out of here. You grinned as you got to your bag, pulling it over your shoulder and beginning to step out the door, only for a hand to grab the back of your neck and pull you back inside. If this were a cartoon, you’d probably make a squeaky toy sound.

“Did you really think your little game of hide and seek was going to keep you away from me?” Kars growled, his claws digging into you as he pulled your body against his, your back against his chest, his mouth against your ear as he tried to hold back his anger. “I have you in my grasp now, so I suggest you stop struggling.”

“No! Never, I’m never going to stop fighting you! You can’t just take me for some sick victory fantasy you have, I’d rather die!” You yelled, leaving Kars just to scoff as he held onto you tighter, lifting you up as you kicked and squirmed.

“Oh, you will. You don’t have any other choice unless you don’t care about those humans you love so much.” He practically spat into your ear, leaving you to freeze up in Kars’ arm, giving him ample time to adjust and pull you into a princess carry.

“Oh, I have your attention now, do I? How infuriating.” Kars dug his nails, more like claws with how sharp they were, into your side. “But still. You will do as I say, or else I will slaughter every single one of the remaining people on this earth, do you understand?” When he spoke, you couldn’t help but squirm again. This was probably selfish of you at this point, but he couldn’t be serious. Could he?

“L-Let me go, please! Don’t do this!” You cried, at the point of begging. You weren’t begging for your life, you would much rather die than be in the hands of Kars. But perhaps he knew that, and used the fact to torture you.

“Oh darling, I wish I didn’t have to work in ultimatums like this, but you’ve given me no choice. If you try to run away, I promise you. I will destroy every last one of them, and I will find you again and let you know exactly what you caused.” He told you, leaving you just to swallow. You knew that the look in his eyes was serious, deathly so. You began to relax, tears welling up in your eyes as you looked away. You bit them back, not wanting to give Kars the pleasure of seeing them, of how hopeless this world has become. Kars just smiled, pulling you closer as he began to walk off to who knows where, taking you to some corner of the Earth you would never be able to escape from, both from your own guilt and the looming threat over your head.

“Oh pet. You’ll learn to adore me the same way I adore you.” Kars told you, his voice softer, more gentle as he pet your hair. Without any other choice, you simply wrapped your arms around the man, watching as the temple slowly disappeared out of existence. “I’ll have them destroy that tomorrow evening. Now then…” Kars leaned in, letting his nose just graze against yours.

“Kiss me.” He was demanding, and you knew that there was no way you could resist. So you leaned in, letting your lips press against his, gasping as he nipped at your lip, only for him to take advantage and shove his tongue into your mouth. You whimpered and just let Kars do what he pleased, gasping when he finally pulled away. You could see the smug smirk on his face, so pleased in seeing you falling so far. You just buried your face into Kars’ chest, doing something, anything to hide from his prying eyes.

You wondered if he felt the tears that were falling from your eyes.

#kars/reader #kars x reader #yandere x reader #yandere/reader #yandere fic #jjba imagines #jjba x reader #jjba/reader #writing #My writing #mine

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hiyaluronic · 3 years

Text

Unnamed Sentinel/Guide Au (partial draft)

Nile eyed Nicky’s plate with envy, her nose twitching at the pleasant aroma of garlic and the slightly nutty, pungent smell of cumin and turmeric; the spicy aromatics filling the small dining room and causing her stomach to grumble excitedly. She turned from Nicky’s plate to stare down at her own in dismay. The grilled chicken breast, steamed broccoli, and rich buttery baked potato were doing nothing to satiate her cranky stomach.

“Why does Nicky get the good stuff?” She hadn’t meant to sound childish but Joe’s home cooked chicken curry looked a thousand times more appetizing than the standard restaurant-style meal situated on her plate.

Joe grinned and winked at Nicky who in turn rolled his eyes in response, “Because he’s being punished.”

Nile sighed and poked halfheartedly at her chicken, “Then can I be punished too?”

Andy snorted into her wine glass, pulling the stemmed glass away and clearing her throat against the burn of alcohol. “Trust me, you don’t.”

“If you say so.” Nile murmured and reluctantly cut into her chicken. She took a few bites, her gaze lingering on Nicky’s plate which sat untouched, wondering how exactly homemade food was a punishment.

“C’mon, Nicolò,” Joe prodded, forgetting his own meal and using his fork to spear a piece of sauce drenched chicken from Nicky’s plate. “I promise it will not be as bad as Baton Rouge.”

Nile perked up, curious. “What happened in Baton Rouge?”

Andy smiled deviously and leaned over to Nile. “Booker’s attempt at cerole cooking. His Jambalaya is still pending a patent as a lethal weapon. Joe and I ended up with food poisoning, Nicky on the other hand....”

Nicky swallowed, eyeing the innocent piece of poultry dangling from Joe’s fork with trepidation, eyes following the curry sauce as it slowly dripped onto the tablecloth. “I ended up zoning because the idiota, mixed up chile peppers with bhut jolokia.”

Nile scrunched her face. “Bahht Zo-lu-key-ya?”

“Ghost peppers.” Andy simplified, leaning back into the kitchen chair and crossing her arms, watching Joe shake the chicken enticingly in front of Nicky with mild amusement.

Nile cringed and swallowed, her mouth watering at the imagined heat of said pepper. “Shit.”

“Indeed.” Nicky replied with a sigh before leaning forward and letting his mouth wrap enticingly around Joe’s fork - the pink of his lips covering the silver of the utensil suggestively - before ever so slowly pulling back, smirking when he noticed Joe’s eyes narrow at his actions. Nicky closed his eyes and let the juices from the chicken settle on his tongue; the sweetness of clove and cinnamon dancing across his tongue and running as a current under the powerful flavor of turmeric, bay leaves, and cumin. He sucked the sauce and juice from the chicken, tilting his head back and moaning in pleasure when the slight underlying warmth of garlic and mustard seed tickled his taste buds.

He mentally smirked when he felt Joe kick his shin under the table, a quiet behave drifting from his husband's lips, the heady scent of musk saturating the air between them and sending a jolt of excitement through Nicky. He could hear Nile coughing awkwardly across the table; a deep bass to the quiet trill of Andy’s accompanying laughter. Why should he be the only one to be punished?

He felt the air shift and change before he heard Joe sigh. “Come on, Nico. You know how this goes, what’s the secret ingredient?”

Nicky frowned at the question and chewed the chicken, unsure. He could taste something off. Taste something out of place underneath the normal spices, something sharp and bitter - almost medicinal.

“I’m assuming it’s not love?” Nile said to Andy, who snickered.

Nicky swallowed and blinked open his eyes, turning to Joe, “Clove, cinnamon, turmeric, bay leaf, cumin. Just a hint of garlic and mustard... and...”

Joe ticked off the ingredients with his finger, “And…?”

Nicky licked his lips and tried to focus on the odd taste, he knew it, he just couldn’t place the where and what, and most notably the name. He hated having to sort through Joe’s cooking because there were so many different flavors in the world and it was sometimes very hard to distinguish between herbs and spices; and, while he loved his husband, Joe liked to make it as hard as possible. The reasoning? Because it eased his husband's mind knowing that he could detect even the subtlest of flavors - which he would agree. Being able to detect the minute differences in flavors between herbs and poisons had saved them many unneeded deaths over the various decades.

But, still…

“It tastes like soap.”

“Seriously, Joe!” Nile admonished, eyes wide in concern. “You put soap in his food?”

“It’s not soap!” Joe was quick to reply, just a little offended at the accusation. “I would never do such a thing!”

“Uggh.” Nicky shivered in disgust when it finally clicked what the offending flavor was, “Cilantro!”

“Very good, Nico!” Joe leaned forward and kissed his husband happily. “And now what sense shall we work on next, hmmm?”

Nicky laughed softly with a shake of his head, “Joe, it was only one zone with a great many number of years between my last one. I promise I do not need-”

“It is not about what you need, you have become lax in these last few decades, hayati, you’re starting to rely too heavily on the technology of today. And it worries me.” Joe explained, running a hand through his beard and scratching at the skin underneath. “You were very lucky that Nile had been there to keep an eye on you until Andy and I arrived but what would have happened if Nile had been indisposed of? You would have been left vulnerable and that’s just not acceptable.”

“Cuore Mio.” Nicky murmured, his hand reaching over to grasp Joe’s tightly in his absently running his thumb over Joe’s knuckles.. He didn’t need heightened senses to know that his love was feeling anxious but the sulfuric reek permeating the air around Joe just confirmed it.

Andy nodded, seeming to agree with the idea. “Joe’s right, Nicky. We have to be able to trust that on a mission you won’t conk out on us. A refresher might do some good and it’ll help Nile know what to do when Joe is unavailable to pull you back.”

Nile held her hand up and cleared her throat, drawing the attention of the small group. “Speaking of. I was promised an explanation?”

“That you were, Nile.” Nicky agreed, squeezing Joe’s hand with a gentle smile. “There is sadly not much to tell.”

“Oh, hell no. You don’t get to reveal Nicky is a superhero-” Not a superhero, Nile “and then not tell me how that happened.”

Joe and Nicky shared a look, Joe raised his shoulder slightly in question to which Nicky tilted his head, his gaze flicking towards Nile before returning to Joe with a small nod.

Joe sighed and pulled his hand free from Nicky’s, settling back against his chair, and focusing his sight on the darkened splotches of curry staining the tablecloth. “It was many, many months after we had grown tired of constant death and had laid down our arms against one another. At the time we thought our situation was part of our immortality, it wasn’t until we met Andromache and Quynh that we understood otherwise.”

Nicky smiled fondly, remembering the circumstances that had surrounded their meeting of their sisters in arms. It had been a sweltering summer, the air so thick that even the simple act of breathing would leave a person exhausted and uncomfortably drenched. Time had worn away at a lot of his memories but the vibrant scent of the briny waters lapping at the sands along the coast, the salty air pushed inland by the balmy waves of the Mediterannean that ate away at wood and stone alike and the overbearing smell of seagrasses that would drift upward when low tide would hit and carrying the faint tinge of dead sea life along with it were still vivid in his memory.

But what he remembered the most about that first meeting - what still haunted him and fueled his nightmares almost a millennium later - was the utter terror of not being able to hear Joe’s heartbeat between one moment and the next. His breath still faltered when he thought back to the utter panic that had grabbed hold and burrowed deep into his chest at the mere thought of losing the one person who could make him feel human.

“Andromache and Quynh absconded with Joe before we had the chance to be formally introduced.”

Nile balked at Nicky’s words but at the minute twitch to the corners of his mouth and the way she noticed his eyes darken just a tad, not quite in anger but in an almost accusatory way, had her turning to Andy flabbergasted, “You what!?

“In all fairness,” Andy started, her hands raised in supplication, “it was just to test a theory. We’d trailed the two of them for days, trying to get a read on what kind of buffoons they were outside of the dreams.”

“We were not buffoons.” Joe huffed, affronted, eyes ticking to Nicky looking for agreement.

Andy quirked an eyebrow, “You literally killed each other dozens of times over the span of 6 months. Quynh and I had even started making bets on it. So, hence, bah-foons.”

“We were-” Joe trailed off, looking to Nicky for the right way to answer without confirming Andy’s rather accurate description.

Nicky turned from Joe’s gaze to Andy’s with a frown, “-working through some things.”

“Sure, language barrier, sectarianism, genocide…” Andy said, ticking each item off with the raise of one of her fingers.

“Getting off topic here, guys. I’m assuming there’s more to the story then Andy and Quynh running off with Joe in tow?”

With a sigh, Andy looked towards Nile. “There were… are stories. Legends really, about persons with the capability to perceive the world around them on a level unseen by us mere humans.”

“Sounds amazing.” Nile said.

“One would think until you realize nothing can be such without its own hindrances.” Nicky explained with a wince, “What Andy and Quynh were testing was to see if Joe and I had bonded as guide and sentinel.”

“Bonded?”

“A sentinel’s abilities are latent, most that have this ability will never know because a sentinel is born through harsh conditions and need.” Andy explained at Nile’s question. “But if there is no guide, no way for a sentinel to maintain a baseline, the world becomes an enemy to them and they either zone or turn feral.”

“Feral? Like...turn rabid?”

Nicky nodded at Nile, “An abhorred definition but yes. We have only ever seen a feral sentinel once and it ended with him falling to my blade.”

“Okay.” Nile pursed her lips trying to gather her thoughts, “Okay so Andy and Quynh took Joe to make sure you were bonded and not feral?”

“You have to understand Nile, we saw them kill each other for months. With so much senseless violence Quynh and I had to make sure that the world hadn’t bred a broken and untamed immortal.”

#the old guard fanfiction #the old guard #sentinel/guide au #Nicky x Joe #nicolo di genova #yusuf al kaysani #nile freeman #andromache the scythian #my stuff #still trying to work through this #still untitled #and hoping that if I post some of it I will get the creative juices flowing so I can finish this #extended preview because I'm still trying to finish this lol #WRITING IS HARD #THERE IS SO MUCH LOOKING UP HOW THINGS SMELL AND LOOK #OMG I LOOKED UP WHAT ANXIETY SMELT LIKE AND WHAT ROTTEN MILK TASTES LIKE AND JUST #GAAAAH

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glitxhwayventeen · 3 years

Text

Ghostin

Seungkwan: Chapter 2 (A Little Bit Of Your Heart)

Characters: Seungkwan x female reader

Genre/Warnings: multi-member au (different scenarios), werewolf au, fantasy, angst (a shit ton of sadness honestly), semi-unrequited love, death mentions, implied genocide, runaway mates, family fighting, violence. Any others will be put as warnings when future chapters are thought up/written.

Author’s Note: Hi Friends! I recommend listening to Just A Little Bit of Your Heart by Ariana Grande. I think it sets a good mood to this chapter. Well not good mood, but it helps give you an idea of how I want you to feel towards the end f it.

Please remember that all of these chapters and the content within them are a work of fiction! They’re just for fun/entertainment!

Bold= Dialogue Italics= Thoughts

🥀

Ghostin Master List

Chapter 2: A Little Bit Of Your Heart

Over the next week, you continued to have nightmares about your past mate. Sometimes it was the memory of his dying, other times it was a completely unrealistic portrayal of terror with him leading the charge. Each time Seungkwan would dutifully come to your aide and hold your through your ordeal, kissing your head and rocking you back and forth like a baby. Sometimes, you’d lay your palm on him somewhere on his body and you’d suck him right into the dream you were having.

He couldn’t lie, seeing you so upset over another man was destroying him, but he loved you. He knew you’d eventually get over it, or at very least not be so upset over it. That’s what he kept telling himself anyway. But every dream he was thrown into with you made that thought dwindle more and more. He could see how much you loved your past mate still. Everytime you smiled at the other wolf, it broke something in him. Everytime you threw yourself into his arms and begged him to never let you go, he’d wake up the next morning, dart out the door and run into the nearby woods and cry until his throat bled.

He wasn’t like his brothers and how they were with their mates issues, he couldn’t keep up his brave face for long. He couldn’t help but let your past bother him. No matter how much he tried, it always affected him. He was just too emotional a person to have your situation not hurt him. He wanted your attention and love solely for himself. It was just his instincts.

He was never good at controlling them to begin with, but when you came around, what little self control he had went out the window. He couldn’t help but be jealous and angry. He couldn’t stop the tears that flowed down his face every night when he was holding you, hushing you back to sleep. He knew your heartache wasn’t for him. It was killing him. But he would NEVER let you know that. It wasn’t your fault this was happening anymore than it was his. He just wished you would see him rather than want your old partner.

His brothers were all very concerned for him. He was having trouble eating, sleeping, and just being his general happy little self. It was like he was a hollowed out shell. They wanted him happy, but they knew confronting him on it would just upset you, which would in turn, further hurt him. They knew it wasn’t really something you could control, they just wished that you two could get to your happily ever after already. You had started to notice how much of a toll you had taken on him too…

You woke up that morning in Seungkwan’s arms, a ritual to which you had become accustomed to. You felt safe with him, which you knew was probably only because of the mate pull, but you decided that you liked his naturally protective nature regardless. You had began to really enjoy being around him. He did everything he could to make you happy. He always made you laugh. He never let you say an unkind word about yourself. You had started to developed some very strong feelings for him. He was still out cold, he must’ve been exhausted trying to keep up with your horrible sleeping habits.

You nuzzled your nose into his bare chest and whimpered out, signaling to him that you wanted him to wake up. Of course, it worked and within seconds his precious eyes had shot open to check on you. The whites in them were dulled and their usual sparkle had lost their shine. You felt bad that you had done this to him, he looked so worn out that you couldn’t help but let another whine escape your lips. His hair was greasy and unkept, his skin was pale and the bags under his eyes had become prominent, even his voice had started to lose it’s cheery edge that you loved so much. You did this to him. And you absolutely hated yourself for it.

“What’s wrong baby? Is everything alright?” He quickly stated as he shook his head to wake himself up. Despite his tiredness, you were still the only thing he cared about.

“Y- Yeah, I’m okay. I just feel bad s’all” you mumbled against his hand that had found itself on your cheek as he looked at you with a great worry on his face.

“Why do you feel bad baby?” He questioned, bringing your face to his and giving you a gentle kiss on the forehead.

“That you’re suffering cause of me. I’m sorry” you spoke to him with watery eyes. Shit.

“I’m not suffering baby” Liar. He lied to you as he hushed you, laying his forehead against yours as he started to rub your temples softly., “I’m just a little tired is all.” Well, that one at least wasn’t a complete lie.

“Because I won’t let you sleep.” You finally sobbed out and threw your head in your hands.

“I’m sorry. I keep trying to stop. I- I keep trying to take him off my mind, it just- it just doesn’t work. I don’t now what to do! I’m so fucking sorry!” You wailed before he pulled you into his chest, rocking you back and forth like he had the previous night.

“Shhhh… It’s alright baby. I’m alright. You don’t need to worry about me alright. It’s my job to worry about and help you. And that’s exactly what I’ve been doing.” He tried to assure you, failing miserably.

“I’m supposed to care for you too. And I haven’t been. I’m sorry” you let the tears freely fall before Seungkwan used his thumbs to sweetly wipe them away and forced you to look up at him.

“Baby, look at me, I’m okay. I’m just a little tired. But I’ll be alright. It won’t be like this forever, just a little while longer, okay? You don’t need to waste your pretty little tears on me. I’m a big strong wolf. I can handle myself.” He said a little too confidently, causing you to let out a chuckle at his joke.

“See, there’s my girl. Now hurry up. Breakfast is gonna be ready any minute and if we’re not down there, we won’t be getting any.” He kissed your nose and jumped to his feet, grabbing one of his shirts on the floor in the process. He took your hand and pulled you up out of bed, making his way to his bedroom door and down the stairs to the kitchen.

The scene in front of you after you reached the bottom of the staircase caused a grin to appear on your lips. All the boys had gathered around the kitchen table and were conversing loudly with each other. You had missed being with a big family, it was nice that now, thanks to Seungkwan, you had one again.

“Morning guys!” Seungkwan chirped as he sat in an empty chair, grabbing you by your waist and pulling you to sit on his lap, making you blush slightly as you weren’t yet used to that type of PDA yet.

“Morning kids!” Mingyu chuckled aloud towards you both as he put Chan in a headlock, fighting for the last piece of bacon on the porcelain plate in front of them.

“How’d you sleep last night Seungkwan?”Jihoon questioned bluntly, his gaze going straight to Seungkwan, completely ignoring your existence.

It wasn’t unusual for him to do that, he was one of the wolves who were closest to your mate. And though he wanted his brother to be happy, he didn’t like the fact that you were still hung up on your old mate. So he gave you a bit of the cold shoulder whenever he could. You didn’t really mind. You understood his anger and thought he had every right to dislike you. The other boys didn’t like seeing their brother so torn up, but they didn’t blame you for it. Just Jihoon.

“We slept just fine, thanks!” Seungkwan put on a fake mile to answer the older wolf’s question, knowing full well that he meant to disclude you. He didn’t like Jihoon’s attitude toward you and he did whatever he could to show him that he wanted him to stop.

“I didn’t ask about BOTH of you, I asked about YOU. How did YOU sleep? Did she force you to stay up again?” Jihoon sneered out while scowling at you.

“Hyung, knock it off. She didn’t ‘force’ me to do anything. You know that. I stayed up because I WANTED to.” Seungkwan shot back, his grip on your waist tightening as he felt your heart beat speed up anxiously.

“Right.” Jihoon added, “because you just LOVE not sleeping for days on end.” He rolled his eyes before huffing, setting his eating utensil down with a loud clank sound.

“Would you back off already!” Seungkwan jolted up, setting you in his place on his chair before leaning over the table to get in the older boy’s face.

“She can’t help her nightmares! But you can help being an asshole!” He growls out, nostrils flaring and eyes turning red with anger.

Jihoon stood up from his chair, pushing it back with a loud screech before slamming his hands down onto the wood table. The noisy bang when he hit the table was enough to jolt you up from your chair.

“I’ll stop being an asshole when she stops playing with your feelings! All you want is Just A Little Bit Of Her Heart and she won’t give you anything more than exhaustion and heartbreak!” He yells out, chest puffing up and down with rage.

The other boys in the house had quickly gathered their mates and had taken them to their respective rooms, fearing for their safety in the event of a fight. All that remained in the kitchen with you three were the mateless Minghao, the nosey Soonyoung, and the Alpha Joshua.

You stood there in complete shock, not really knowing what to do. If you spoke up, you’d only make Jihoon’s anger toward you worse. But if you didn’t, your mate might attack him. Tears started rolling down your cheeks as you looked between the two arguing wolves. Seungkwan sensed your emotions through his anger and turned his eyes to you for a moment. He could see how much his brother’s words were affecting you, so he decided to get you out of there before things got worse.

“Joshua Hyung, can you please take (Y/N) back up to my room? She doesn’t need to deal with his bitchy attitude anymore than she has to!” Seungkwan snarled Jihoon’s way as he pleaded with the only Alpha available to get you out of the current situation.

You weren’t as helpless as the other mates, you were a wolf too, after all. You weren’t even scared of Jihoon, he was only a few inches taller than you in your human forms. In your wolf forms, you’d even be the bigger one out of the two of you. But everyone in the pack knew you didn’t like to fight. You’d rather get beaten bloody than potentially harm someone else with your strength, even if they had started it, you’d never continue it.

But Seungkwan was worried for you. Jihoon had, on occasion, started and finished some pretty gnarly fights. He didn’t want him to try and lunge at you. And he definitely didn’t want his brother to end up hurting you. He would protect you if he needed to, but he’d rather you be taken away from the situation to prevent it as much as possible.

Joshua nodded at your mate before he took your wrist in his hand and began to head towards the stairs to bring you back to your room. It was his job as Alpha to try and keep the peace, but his most urgent job right now was to make sure you, a mate, didn’t get hurt.

“Why would you try to send her away?? She needs to hear this! She should know what she puts you through everyday! She should know she’s killing you and that we’re all pissed at her for it!” Jihoon growls toward you, causing your mate’s fangs to slightly elongate at the older wolf as he did his best to keep his inner wolf from showing.

“Don’t you dare talk to her that way.” Seungkwan coldly said, moving to stand in front of your fleeting figure, blocking you from the older wolf’s view.

“My God! She could at least TRY to hide her pathetic little feelings for a dead guy when you’re around! But she doesn’t! Because she doesn’t love you like she loved him. Wake up Boo! She never has and she never will!” Jihoon jabs his pointer finger into your mate’s chest.

“Why can’t you fucking see through her stupid shit? She’s not worth you destroying yourself!” Jihoon screamed at his younger brother while staring up at the younger wolf, practically drilling holes into his eyes with the amount of fury he was exhausting.

Joshua had tried to pull you upstairs again once the two wolves had gotten closer to each other. The other boys in the room moving into position to prevent the arguing wolves from hurting each other, a sure fire sign that something was going to happen. But you managed to wiggle your arm from his grip. You jetted your way back to the center of the kitchen before you spoke up.

“He’s right Seungkwan, I’m not worth this! You shouldn’t have to destroy yourself for me. I’ll leave!” You jump in, causing all the boys to stop their snarling at each other and turn to you in shock. What?

“W- What did you just say?” Seungkwan whispered, barely audible.

He tried to step toward you with his hand going out to try and reach your arm, causing you to jerk your should backwards. The sadness on his face was enough to make you want to fall to your knees and cry, but you had to remain strong for this. You caused enough damage to their pack. You wanted the boys to all get along again, you wanted things to go back to normal for them, but most of all, you wanted Seungkwan to stop tearing himself apart because of you.

“I said I’ll leave. This isn’t fair to your pack, and it’s sure as shit not fair to you. I’m killing you, and you don’t deserve this.” You say weakly, trying your best to hold back your imminent tears.

“But- But you’re my mate… You- You can’t just leave me… I- I can die if if you go.” Seungkwan sobbed, streams of hot liquid cascading down his cheeks.

You stepped in front of him, quickly cupping his face with your small hand and smiling defeatedly.

“No. You won’t Seungkwan. You have a family who love you enough to tell you the harsh truth, they won’t let you die on them. They love you more than you could ever imagine, Trust me on that. I know you’ll be okay because you’d never leave them when they need you as much as they do. You’ll be okay. I need to leave so you can be happy again.” You speak with shimmering eyes, tears forming at your water lines at the thought of losing him.

Last time you lost a mate, you wanted to die. Hell, you tried to die, more times than you can count. But the thought of losing Seungkwan felt like you already were dead. Your heart felt like it had disappeared from your chest and the air had evaporated from your lungs. Every morsel of your soul ached. But you had to do this, you had to do this for him. He deserved better.

Seungkwan stood there quietly crying his eyes out as you held his fragile face. The boys frozen around him were but a distant memory as he looked into your eyes and tried to find something to say, anything to say, to try and make you stay with him. But all he could do was take the hand you had against his cheek in his and snuggle into it, trying his best to memorize the sensation with everything he had in him.

“Please…” He mustered out, looking at every inch of your beautiful face as if it were the last time he would ever see it. For all he knew, it was.

You moved onto your tippy toes and gave his lips a loving peck before moving yourself back down, a tear dropping down the side of your face in the process.

“Jihoon was wrong on something you know. I do love you Seungkwan, more than I’ll ever love anything in this world.” You let out a small laugh as he shook his head in disbelief, not wanting you to go.

You dropped your hand to his face and let it hit your side right as you made your way for the front door. You reached for the doorknob and turned, pulling it open before you stepped outside and closed it.

You looked back at the house with fondness before shifting into your wolf form and sprinting full speed into the deep forest, leaving Seungkwan and the other boys standing paralyzed with shock inside.

(Updated 8/7)

#seventeen #seventeen angst #seventeen au #seventeen fanfic #seventeen fluff #seventeen smut #svt au #seventeen x reader #boo seungkwan #svt seungkwan #seungkwan

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