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gurlbesimpin · 7 months

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In the beast's den

(Karl Heisenberg x Gen!neutral reader)

chapter eight: true colors

Chapter eight: True Colors

Ever since that faithful night where Heisenberg opened up to you ever so slightly, he was silent. He barely speaks to you, only when necessary or during 'training'. Most days are spent with your shooting and dexterity practices, whilst Heisenberg remains in his workshop; working the days and nights away.

A week had passed, a total of nine days since you stumbled into his factory during that particularly rough snowstorm that threatens to return soon. Despite only knowing him for such a short time, your heart openly welcomes him inside; his own feelings however, are unknown.

It baffles you how surprisingly kind he is to you. Sure he had bitched around a few times, and he does still very much frighten you; he could kill you at any given moment with ease, and yet...

He is nice?

After a ten second lecture from the lord and two hours of shooting small dots on the wall, you grow frustrated. Why is he avoiding you all of a sudden? You had just met, and he's allowing you to roam freely in his factory and workspace? Something has to be off, he has to be planning something. Was lady dimitrescu right? Maybe he's putting on a charming exterior to subtly persuade you into trusting him, just to cut you off later.

Huffing and cursing, you all but gently place the old-school revolver down on the ground; turning on your heels to storm off into the dark, rusty and dangerous lower levels of the enormous metal structure underground, the factory.

Questions flood your mind whilst you quietly step through the barely illuminated halls and chambers. Why are you even staying here? You could just- leave? Is it because you crave protection? Surely if you left, something would kill you sooner than inside his factory. Or are you craving-

No. No you aren't craving that! Out of everything, you could want or need, the last thing is an old man who isolates himself inside a literal deathtrap of a factory. It has to be something else keeping you here, something incomprehensible at this moment.

You arrive in an old storage room, glancing around for any signs of the metal lord. You know he's likely in his workshop, but that is territory you won't step inside. His soladats and other 'specimen' he operates in roaming around outside of his little 'den'.

Glancing around, you find nothing special in this messy storage. Old books, rusted scraps, old clothing, boxes, more boxes, some old jars with a scribbled label... but no Heisenberg. Turning to leave, there's a thump behind you, causing you to turn swiftly. Still nobody, but an open box on the floor. Sighing, slow and careful steps towards the fallen box. You lift it, seeing an old book inside. It, seems like a journal-

"Hmm?"

Should you, no. No you can't so that! But damn, you need to know more about him. With nimble fingers, you open the journal, information you've been searching for flooding your vision. You find notes on these other 'lords' he spoke of.

'salvatore Moreau:

Stupid moronic fish freak, only wishes to please that witch with all the power he has. Even if I could get his slimey hands on my side, It wouldn't help-"

'Donna Beneviento:

Girl and her ugly-ass-pscho-doll. I don't know much about her, what I do know...

She's utterly useless in combat. She's of no use to me.'

'Lady Dimibitch:

Tall ignorant, selfish cunt. Her power could perhaps be of use, but that bitch and her bloodsucking daughters stand in my way-'

Most importantly however, there are diary entries inside. Experiences, his true... his true colors.

'We're nothing but mere failed Cadou experiments to her, forced into eternal servitude.

She still calls me her son, what a fucking joke-

I'll take that witch down, but this won't be a simple task. I'll need power, more power than the stupid brainwashed villagers could ever comprehend...

I need my freedom, my life, my dignity

I need it back.

I must kill her'

"Well well... snooping around are we? Aren't you supposed to be training?"

Your head shoots up, directly staring at Heisenberg. He has a faint smirk on his scarred lips, for once not a cigar with him.

"Heisenberg I-"

"Call me Karl, I already fucking told you"

He snaps back. So he hasn't forgotten about that faithful night, he remembers it. Of course-

"Right... Karl... why haven't you been talking to me?"

His smirk falters, if you could see through his sunglasses, your heart would sink at his intense glare. The takes a heavy step forward, now within arms teach of your trembling form.

"Answer my question, kid"

Gulping, you decide to take a bit of a risk, asking him once again why he hasn't been talking to you. Instead of angry shouting, he leans forward, grabbing you by the shoulders and shoving you into a wall. His face is mere inches away from your own, his face contorted in annoyance.

When no words leave your lips, his annoyance turns into anger; the hand in your shoulder moving to your throat. Not choking you, but a silent threat. Tears form in your eyes, dimitrescu was right. He's cruel, careless ... so close to ending you with a singular hand.

His scarred and dry lips part, his words like venom

"Tell. Me. Kid!"

The tears slowly start flowing, the color draining from your face as your lips tremble wildly. Stumbling and whispering words, hopefully to soothe the enraged lord.

"I... was curious, hei- Karl"

He snarls, considering your words for a moment, his grip loosening but not fully gone. His sunglasses slide down his nose an inch, revealing his hazel eyes. They seem conflicted, not fully angry, but certainly not friendly.

He doesn't speak, instead arching an eyebrow after your words finally land in his mind.

"I... was worried... because you didn't talk to me at all! I tried doing my training, doing the work you tell me to do... I did all of that! I- I don't know why I'm worried, but I care Karl! You listened to my venting the other day, I'm here to listen to yours-"

His grip tightens again, he seems to not believe a word you say. He spits out his response, his tone sharp

"As if you give a shit, don't lie to me kid. You don't give a damn about me, nobody does. Not that big bitch, not that fishstick freak, not that doll... not that old hag... not you-*

He pauses, his eyes glancing down for a moment. Whilst he's distracted, you wriggle one of your arms free; trying to knock him back somehow. This, is a fatal mistake. His eyes snap back up, the hand around your throat tightening as he slams you against the wall again. He growls, a primal sound sending shivers down your spine.

"I'm not one of your soldats, Karl! I'm not a machine you can program and train to kill your mother!"

Karl hesitates for a moment, leaning closer so that your noses are touching. His hazel pearls analysing your every move, every reaction, every emotion.

"Oh but you are, kid! You're a tool for my plans! You're nothing but a walking weapon to me, so don't fucking pretend you give a shit about me! Go to that super-sized bitchface if you have a problem with me!"

You squeak as he pulls you closer, his eyes burning yellow all of a sudden. A tell take sign of the Cadou.

"I do care Karl! Why else would I still be here?! You saved my damn life, and I'm willing to repay you by assisting in your plans! But treat me like a fucking human! I know how you feel Lord, I know it. I now know what happened to you, and I'm sorry that your life had to be this way. I didn't want to believe that you're a monster like Dimitrescu told me, but damn it, you have to believe me when I say I AM worried! You haven't been talking to me because if last week, right? Because you opened up? Why?!"

You shout directly into his face, your face depicts confusion, desperation and sadness. Dimitrescu... he thought you believed her... and this whole time, you didn't? Within a second, he pulls back; his eyes looking down as he huffs heavily. He glares at his desk, grabbing a metal rod with a loud growl and for a second, you believe he's going to kill you.

Instead, he roars, slamming the pipe against the wall over and over again. Kicking, breaking, cracking it. The pipe bends, falling to the ground as he calms himself down. Taking deep breaths, he briefly glances at you, before turning away and muttering under his breath:

"Go, kid. Leave."

You stand against the wall, sweating profusely and shivering in fear. When he turns to leave, you leap forward, grabbing his shoulder. A daring move. He halts, not reacting or turning his head; standing in the doorway like a statue. Your grip on his shoulder relaxes, only a faint and gentle touch.

"Karl, please... I- I do care. I don't know why, but I do"

Expecting your words to fall in deaf ears, you prepare for the worst. So when he turns and places a hand on your cheek softly, you're surprised. His hand moves down to your shoulder, pulling you close as he wrap his arms around you, allowing you to cry in his shoulder. He would do the same, if he allowed himself to do so.

"I'm... sorry buttercup- I don't do the whole 'caring' thing... I took you for granted. I didn't know how to express my feelings, I'm so fucking sorry-"

His words sound genuine as he sniffles. The closest thing to him crying you've seen sofar. Gripping his jacket, you cry into the old fabric as he holds you close. A moment of silences passes, before he gently pulls away, his gaze soft and... caring? Hiccuping, you choke out your response:

"I'll help you get that bitch... just please- talk to me!"

Heisenberg closes his eyes, swallowing thickly as he pulls you close once more. He can't explain it, his anger now completely subsided and is now replaces with care. He doesn't know how to react, he's never felt this...

"I- I'll try buttercup. I swear- let's get a drink..."

#smut #karl heisenberg #resident evil #resident evil village #karl heisenberg x reader #karl heisenburg fanart #detroit become human #neil newbon

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purplekoop · 7 months

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Alright gonna make a bit of a format for the individual heroes, starting with one of the first "requeues" I thought of:

Mei

New Role: Tank. Health: 500 (100 of which is armor)

Part of an Antarctic research team lost to a freak snowstorm, Mei-Ling Zhou was the sole survivor out of her crew due to a malfunction in the cryo-stasis chambers they hid in to weather their dire situation. However, Mei was not totally unharmed by incident. The malfunction in her pod, while miraculously sparing her life, left her body in a severely weakened state, barely able to survive outside of her stasis pod's life support systems. With the help of the base's survey drone, Snowball, she managed to get a signal out to the recently recalled Overwatch. In critical condition, she was found resting in her pod by the rescue team finally sent to recover her. While stabilized thanks to Tracer's time-rewinding healing powers, Mei was left in a troubled situation in an even more troubled world. With threats like Talon and Null Sector on the rise, and the environmental anomaly that was her original mission still unsolved, she could hardly stand sitting by idly while the world remained in turmoil. With this in mind, Mei approached Winston with an interesting proposition...

Now, Mei has taken to the fight inside an armored cryo-suit, keeping herself safe while also allowing her to defend her allies and those in need, all while Snowball has her back as ever.

Mei's Cryo Suit increases her size significantly compared to her normal appearance, standing at about 6'8" instead of her usual 5'3". Her health has been increased to compensate, and her abilities retain their defensive nature to keep herself and teammates alive.

Her primary fire, now upgraded to Endothermic Cannon, acts very similarly to its current in-game iteration, but now has a bit more of a conical area of effect, making it more effective at slowing down multiple enemies at once. Her secondary fire however is receiving a small damage nerf, from 75 to 60, as to make it less lethal at longer ranges. It retains its critical hit capabilities, as well as the recently added Snap Freeze mechanic to increase its damage in tandem with her primary fire, but this makes it less of a sudden burst of damage on its own while not totally neutering her ranged effectiveness.

Her first ability Cryo-Freeze is now replaced with a slightly different self-defense tool: Cryo Shielding. Putting her arms in a defensive position and covering her entire suit in a layer of dense ice, Mei gains 200 overhealth and immunity to debuffs, cleanses any debuffs she had on activation, and slowly heals while the ability is active, but can't attack and has greatly reduced movement speed for the duration. The ability can be manually cancelled early just like Cryo-Freeze, but if the overhealth is depleted, then the ice armor breaks and the ability ends early.

Her second ability is still Ice Wall, and it's largely the same as before, but to ease some of the frustrations and reinforce its role as a defensive ability, the wall is now much more thin, to the point where it can't be used as a walkable surface when placed underfoot. It still acts as a physical object, but now there's only three wall segments with increased health instead of five.

Finally, her ultimate, Blizzard, is... unchanged. Yeah to be honest, it's already kind of a perfect Tank ultimate. It's a big area denial/crowd control/team setup ult, which is what most Tank ults are anyways. Shame about the name though...

So yeah, that's Mei. The fun part of her rework is the visual overhaul to make her "tank-sized", her abilities are already largely fitting for a tank, but uh. Yeah 5'3" ain't gonna cut it. Actually was surprised to learn the other day she's one of the shortest heroes, that caught me off guard a little. Maybe a little tacky that my solution was just to make her basically Mr. Freeze, but it felt like a logical twist on her backstory like what I had with Reaper... who I turned into basically Venom, okay there might be a pattern here.

Also Mei here is one of the designs I actually want to design the most, the cryo-suit is one of those things I think would make more sense with a visual rather than just an explanation. Again, just saying "it's like Mr. Freeze" gets the gist across, but I'd add a bit more nuance. Mei's a very "cutesy" character with a distinct look to her tech and outfit, so keeping that thematic identity intact while also making her enough a sizeable presence to fit as a tank is something that I think would make for a fun visual.

So yeah, that's Mei's role requeue! Next up on the agenda is the first "new" Damage hero, which... honestly isn't gonna be much of a change of pace for him, outside of the ability to walk.

#overwatch #overwatch 2 #role requeue #overwatch role requeue #mei #mei ling zhou #mei overwatch

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ponds-of-ink · 5 months

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Sing The Ghosts A Christmas Carol- Chapter 5 (“The Last Visitor [And A Sudden Interruption]”)

Here it is! The preultimate chapter! What in the world are William and The Spirit of Christmas Futurs going to encounter?

William gulped. “Spirit, please pardon me,” he sputtered out, tugging at his collar once more. “I promise my look of resistance was not because of you. It was related to other matters that were already on my mind.”

The Spirit remained at its post. It gave no answer.

William pinched the bridge of his nose. “Ah, right,” he resumed. “How could I forget? You are supposed to be as silent as the grave. As ‘dead as a door nail’, if I’m right to use the phrase in this context. You literally cannot talk, unless there is an exception to be made here.”

The Spirit said nothing. It only leaned over the desk, as if to analyze its “listener”.

William retreated a step. “Yes, Spirit, you are seeing things correctly,” he continued, attempting to keep a firm tone. “I am absolutely unprepared for what’s to come. If you had arrived before the rest, then I would have proudly stated that I will be escaping and plotting revenge against Goldie and her fellow tormentors. But, after all of these other specters, my mind is spinning with the most horrible conclusions.” He paused to stabilize his breathing. “However, I will not—and cannot—let that deter me,” he concluded solemnly. “I see now that I need to learn the lessons you want to teach. Lead on, Spirit, before I feel the urge to say otherwise.”

The Spirit’s long cloak dragged across the floor as it trudged to the left doorway. It turned its head slowly, keeping it there until William was right beside it. Then, with a wave of its arm, the world changed instantly. They had arrived at the Main Street from the last travel, but now the sky was gray and cloudy. People in heavy winter coats rushed past, completely unaware of the ghosts’ presence. All was dreary, but not completely miserable.

William surveyed the streets. “I know this is off-topic,” he said, shuffling his feet. “But what happened to the market? Molten Fred— The previous Spirit mentioned a market was set up here.”

The Spirit raised an arm, its large sleeves covering the pointing hand underneath. Its hooded head stared at William, as if telling him “Go over there if you want answers”.

William obliged, nervously strolling in the direction he was told to go. A red paper box, chipping with age, soon caught his eye. He walked in front of it, then leaned in front of the murky glass case. He skimmed the display, dodging headlines in bold print and advertising that would have made the marketing part of him shiver. At the very bottom of the page, an answer finally announced itself: “Freak Snowstorm Hits Downtown, Annual Market Cancelled”.

Though disappointed, William breathed a sigh of relief. “And here I was starting to worry that this Mimic fellow was the cause,” he laughed as he returned to his guide. “At least it wasn’t as horrendous as that. What a sorry picture that would paint!”

The Spirit didn’t lower its arm.

William’s heart dropped. He glanced back at the red box. “Spirit,” he pleaded, clasping his hands together. “I’ve already read the paper. It’s nothing but local events that, as far as I can tell, only concern those in the vicinity! The one clue I’ve found is that the date is Christmas Day… Well, I presume a year from now. Unfortunately, no one’s bothered to give me a calendar for my office back home.”

The Spirit lowered its arm. It stepped aside, then pointed to the sidewalk.

Guessing its intentions, William wandered to the Spirit’s side. The area shifted instantly, making the man lose his balance. He fumbled back-first into the snow-covered lawn of a suburban home. The Spirit wordlessly turned to him, then lifted its ill-fitting arm once more.

“Forgive me if this is out of turn,” William huffed as he gingerly moved into a sitting position, “but you are being very impatient for a Ghost of Christmas Future. I know there may not be much to see here as opposed to Scrooge’s travels, but we should at least take a moment to process what has happened.”

The Spirit lowered its arm a little, but it refused to stop pointing.

William stared at the Spirit. “I… assume we have very little time regardless?” he asked, his bitter tone softening. “As in, you aren’t in complete control about how much time we have?”

The Spirit’s head lowered. It’s free hand adjusted its cloak. Somewhere, deep within that void, a silver chain hung around its “neck”. And, on that chain, there hung a dark hourglass with red sand. Red sand that was one-thirds at the top and two-thirds at the bottom.

William’s pupils shrank. “Ah,” he said in a meek, hoarse tone. “I see. M-My apologies, then.” He then sprang to his feet, hurrying back over to The Spirit. “Lead on, Spirit,” he finished in a still-frail tone. “I’ll try to simply watch and learn from now on, no matter how ‘fast’ these lessons may seem. Perhaps… being silent as you might benefit us both.”

Though it put an arm on the man’s shoulder, The Spirit still said nothing. It led William down those same streets he took only mere minutes ago. Except now the houses were either barren or simply furnished with string lights and leftover decor. No wishes of goodwill. No other displays that blinded or dazzled the eye. Not even the candy cane lane at “the A’s” house survived the apparent neighborhood changes.

Come to think of it, that house didn’t have any decorations. Or a car. Or even faint footprints in the snow. It looked abandoned almost, as if it’s occupants vacated months ago. In fact, given what Molten Freddy warned, it probably was vacated months ago. Without prior warning, if William was understanding the tell-tale signs correctly.

While William’s solemn face contorted into a growing sense of terror, the Spirit gestured yet again. This time, it was to the side of the house. William’s protests died before they even finished forming in his head. With trembling steps, he walked towards the window. He stopped as soon as he reached it. He peered over his shoulder. The Spirit had not changed its position. With a heavy sigh, William phased through the room.

Gregory’s bedroom greeted him on the other side, though now it was much more solemn. The cartoonish bedspread was swapped with a plain black cover. The desk was throughly cleaned, though a few papers laid scattered on the ground. Any other furniture seemed to be devoid of the charm they once had, though William couldn’t remember any of them at all.

Spotting the door now propped open, William’s eyes brightened. “Perhaps Gregory had to leave, but Vanessa stayed,” he thought as he crept to the door. “Maybe the boy got lost out- of-state and his parents came by to pick him up. Or perhaps he found some loving foster parents after the whole Cassie Accident. Just because Gregory’s gone and the bedsheets are as black as a funeral procession, that doesn’t mean…”

His inner voice trailed as he took in the scene before him. The front room was as barren as the bedroom. In terms of larger furniture, it only housed a TV, a dingy green couch, and an empty bookshelf. Outlines of items like a clock and hung pictures showed themselves, but there was no telling if these belonged to Gregory or Vanessa.

William’s fears only worsened as he continued his tour. Room after room, the results remained conclusive. Everything truly personal had vanished, leaving only the “typical” decor and furniture behind. There was no life in this place, both literally and figuratively. Only a shell of who used to live here.

Reeling from this discovery, he hurried back into Gregory’s bedroom. He scrambled onto his hands and knees, crawling towards the scattered papers on the floor. Through misted eyes, he inspected the new drawings that were available. One contained Gregory and Vanessa sitting on a grassy hillside in dark-colored clothing, their faces hidden from view. Another showcased The Mimic wreaking murderous havoc on random strangers in equally random locations. A third, more scribbled than than rest, relayed the many, many horrific scenarios that laid before them both. Ghosts of Cassie and several others hounding them at bedtime, Vanessa gripped with guilt in front of the Soring-Bonnie imposter as well as some puzzled officer, and a worn-down Gregory having to explain to a school board the many atrocities he had done— To name a few that stood out with its bold marker strokes.

Lastly, amid all these heartbreaking revelations, one final sketch remained to be observed: An ink drawing of Vanessa and Gregory sitting on the front porch of this very house. Their hands are cuffed by chains. Their expressions are resigned. Shadows peer in from the bottom of the page. Both of Molten Freddy’s ill wishes came true.

Meanwhile, the Spirit stood beside the window. It tilted its head to and fro, as if wondering what was taking its companion so long.

Thankfully for it, William crawled back out not a moment later. He fumbled onto the cold snow, gripping his head with his hands. Muffled, yet horrible, noises followed shortly after.

The Spirit loomed by his side. It watched him in complete silence.

A feeling of being watched sent a tear-stopping chill down his spine. He slowly rose to a sitting position, soundlessly mouthing some variation of “sorry”. Then, before the specter could respond, he rose to his feet and hobbled to its side. His eyes focused on the snow beneath their feet. He remained mute, even as The Spirit stared at him. His only sign of anything, really, was a solemn nod.

The Spirit’s hood bobbed up and down. The cold and bitter outdoors transformed into a lightless, large room. All was dark, save the glow of the two ghosts. William glanced around the room, then looked to his guide.

A small golden light shone from inside The Spirit’s hood. It raised its arm, making sure its coal-like paw could be seen as it pointed. “Go that way,” it instructed in a hushed, almost child-like voice. “Hurry.”

William ran towards a pair of towering shelves, being needlessly careful with his navigation of this new room. He skimmed each box’s label as he went past. Servos, circuit boards, spare blueprints, bits and bobbles of metal parts… All of these shelved items aided him as he tried to figure out just where exactly he was. His mind moved from the realms of speculation to something a bit more concrete. This, from what he could gather, was a warehouse for some technological wonder. Why else would the selves stretch until they were almost as high as the ceiling?

At the end of this towering, makeshift corridor, a wooden desk greeted the puzzled man. He crept towards it, looking to and fro. Just in case someone decided to beat him to it.

His eyes focused on a neatly-stacked pack of files. Though nothing was written on the tab, something was telling him that these contained the information he needed. Perhaps it was instinct leftover from Gregory’s house. Maybe it was just absolute curiosity. Whatever it was, it compelled him to open the top file and read it. Inside were notes on official-looking documents. Reports, points of discussion, and all the other jargon he could decipher. Jargon that, as he quickly put together, was being spewed out by Fazbear executives. The much more recent ones, at that. Funnily enough, they seemed to be just as naive and incompetent as the ones he last talked with. What with all the technological mishaps, lack of regard for both costumer and employee, and the completely unashamed money-grubbing. “What an actual bunch of Scrooges,” William scoffed in his mind, mere seconds before the urge to self-reprimand kicked in. He wasn’t here to mock the company he helped found, after all. He was here to… Well, he wasn’t sure just yet. That’s why he had to keep reading these reports. Maybe even scrutinize them, if needed.

He poured into the files, skimming through most of the pages. More failures of the current company became evident. The Mimic started to emerge from vague shadows, though its story was definitely being told backwards. A tale of woe, deception, and countless lost souls laid itself out before him— Scattered though it was. And, as he neared the end of the stack, two questions lingered in William’s mind: Who or what could create such a twisted, yet artificial mind? And what did any of this metallic being’s scheming have to do with him?

He opened one of the last files in the stack. To his surprise, a lined-paper note hung by a paper clip. His eyes habitually squinted at the faded writing. “‘Status report.. nineteen eighty… something’,” he mouthed, managing to read most of the top line. “…’Caught an endo- skeleton watching some employee playing Hide and Seek with a kid. Tried to lead it away, but it refused to move. I just gave up and left.. Somebody ask Dave if he saw it next time.’” His eyes widened at the name ‘Dave’. He double-checked the full date.

His heart sank to his stomach.

“Dave Miller,” he muttered hoarsely, shutting the file with a trembling hand. “My old alias…” He set the item down, then backed away slowly. His hands cupped his mouth like he was about to spew the most putrid bile. “It watched me,” he thought, shaking all over. “It practically took notes from me without even knowing! Without even me knowing! I… I created this Mimic!“

He turned to bolt, but the spirit stopped him. “Oh, Spirit!” he cried, gripping the figure’s hunched shoulders. “I’ve done worse things than I thought possible! Why did no one tell me about this whole Mimic situation sooner!?”

The hooded figure raised its head. It adjusted its cloak, making sure the hourglass was visible. All of the sand was now at the bottom. “Your time is up,” it hissed, its voice nearly identical to its listener’s.

All went dark around them. The figure lowered its hood, revealing a fully robotic head. It snatched William by the arm, then clamped a red cufflink onto his wrist. It repeated the same process for the other wrist and the throat. It backed away as two other cufflinks dug into the man’s ankles like vengeful snakes.

William yelped in pain and fell to the ground. “Are you the Spirit I just left mere minutes ago?” he asked, battling the searing pain from the cuffs. “Or are you an impersonator looking to override the conversation? Speak, I beg you!” The robot stepped forward. “I am here to claim what is left of you,” it answered, looming over its captive. “Suffer now, like all who have stood before me.”

“Y-You are not The Spirit of Christmas Yet to Be, then?”

The robot ‘scowled’, as if annoyed by William’s persistence. “Yes,” it replied in a spliced voice, snatching him by the collar. “And now, your fear will consume you.”

Floating red chains latched themselves onto the cufflinks. They tugged harshly, knocking any embers of arrogance out of William. His fingers dug into the void to no avail. He tried to cry out for The Spirit of the Future, but the chains drove an ominous mixture of familiar pains through his body. Gut-churning screams from the past rang through his mind, though only briefly. His outstretched arm fell limp. All of his fury dampened into a self-loathing whimper.

The chains stopped pulling. The robot (who William was certain it was The Mimic itself) towered over the mourning wretch. “Cry all you want,” it insisted coldly, lifting its hood back over its head. “It did not save the others. It will not save you.”

In a final act of strength, William gripped the hem of The Mimic’s cloak. “What if all this horrid crying was a symptom of remorse?” he inquired in a frankly pathetic tone. “What then?”

“You will not be spared,” The Mimic snipped, raising his hand as if to signal the chains to keep fulfilling their duty. “You will not be saved.”

William struggled against the chains once more. “Mimic, listen to me!” he cried, battling the searing pains once more. “I have seen a horrific future! You will triumph when you, no doubt, were never intended for such world domination. A feat of yours I alone am responsible for— And yet, I don’t want it! I don’t want to plunge both you and the entire world into a spiral of hatred, distrust, and despair! No one needs this, not even I!— Do you understand me!?”

The Mimic turned its back towards him. A low scoff lifted itself from some other voice- bank. “It is time,” he answered wearily. “The lake will make you suffer. Suffer like so many of the others.”

William quickly peered over his shoulder. A bright red lake shone in the void. And the chains were dragging him straight to it.

“Spirit! Mimic!” he shrieked out. “Whoever is left out here! Show mercy! Have pity! Give me the chance to change—“ The chains practically forced him into the water, cutting his pleas short. He sank deeper and deeper. His body succumbed to tiredness at last.

But his mind was not so easily vanquished. It swam through memories of long ago. Desperately tearing through pages and pages of recalled passages from A Christmas Carol. All of the key scenes flickered through his vision. Every section he committed to memory for one reason or another. He dug until, miraculously, Scrooge’s words at the graveyard resounded in his ears: “Oh, tell me that I may sponge away the writing on this stone!”

These words jolted all of the energy back into him. He forced himself upright, then opened his eyes. To his surprise, he wasn’t just greeted by reddish water. Around him flew small, ‘whispering’ balls of light, much like the ghosts he encountered long ago. Below him was a scarlet void contained many chains that furiously spun. And, right in front of him, his arms and legs freed from their restraints (though the cuffs still bound him tightly).

While he wasn’t completely sure if this meant anything in the grand scheme of things, he took this as a sign to continue where he left off. “What I want now is vastly different!” he cried, alerting several of the ghostly spheres. “I want, for lack of a better phrase, is to help people somehow! Just think: A world in which I use my powers and what acquired knowledge to truly benefit others. Imagine, if one soul here can! Families reunited instead of being torn apart by preventable mishaps! Fazbear Entertainment getting their own Scrooge-like intervention and finally wisening up! I could… even aid Gregory and Vanessa if I needed to…” His voice trailed. Harsh reality crept back into his mind. There was no hope in him helping the ones he harmed— intended or not. Every aspect of this shared past had been etched by his own hand.

One of the ghostly spheres halted its routine. It floated towards him, emitting a warm pink glow. A soft voice seemed to echo in his ears, though no mouth was visible. “Everything is okay,” it ‘said’ as it landed on his hand. “I am still here.”

William looked at it with a sense of wonder. He would have asked if it was Elizabeth, but the words fell limp on his tongue.

“You have to swim closer to the surface,” the sphere explained in a stern, but child-like tone. “It’s the only way you can buy enough time.”

William nodded. “But what about you?” he asked weakly, blinking away some tears before spotting the rest of the lights fly above him. “Your friends seem to be beating us both to it.” “Just lift me upwards,” it explained further, bouncing on his finger a little. “I can catch up just fine.”

Now a little assured, William raised his hand towards the surface. The pink light joined the rest of its group. Its cheerful giggling faded away with it, leaving William alone once again.

However, William didn’t let this make him lose hope. Even as he fought the chains for control, he still managed to near closer and closer to the surface. His mind relayed the rest of Scrooge’s pleas to the Spirit of Christmas Future all the while, practically making it his own vow of reformation. He would remember all the lessons these Spirits had taught him— And not just the Spirits! The lessons he himself had learned during these decades of torment would not be shut out. And, if it were possible, he would be able to apply the same mercy he had been shown to others. Especially towards those who were forced to recreate his death-causing experiments.

Unfortunately, as he clambered onto the edge of freedom, none of these words were the ones he gasped out. “Oh, let me scrub this horrific legacy!” was all he could yell in his hysteria. “Let me sponge the redness from these waters!”

But the plea fell on deaf ears (if there were any ears to hear). With greater strength, the chains pulled him back into the water. He let out a final, heart-wrenching scream as they rapidly forced him into the depths below. The entire world became tinged with red, followed by absolute darkness.

#william afton #other characters mentioned #fnaf fandom #fnaf fanfic #lefty fnaf #mimic fnaf #angst #heavy angst #well #for one of these guys anyway

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undertalepinkhorsepro123 · 1 year

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TrueSwapTale

So uh, finished writing and putting together an idea for an AU and wanted to share-

Long ago, two races ruled over Earth.

HUMANS, and MONSTERS.

One day, the humans filled with fear over the monster’s possible powers, a war between the two races was started .

In the end, the king of monsters was able to absorb 7 human souls and defeat the human King.

The monsters, made of love and compassion, wished to put it all in the past, and live in peace with humans once more.

The king, filled with nothing but hatred, bigotry and paranoia, refused their offer and forced what remained of his people into the underground caverns of Mt. Ebott, sealing it with a spell so no monster could ever enter.

Now a complete monarch, he turned the underground into a place filled with hate, torture, rape, slavery, and no hope. The rich took advantage of the poor, and orphans were no more than things to use, abuse, and slaughter.

Several decades after the war, a small human child had managed to escape. The human, injured by their time in the underground, laid by Mt. Ebott, weak and sure they were to die.

But they got lucky.

Prince Asriel had gotten curious and decided to explore the mountain, managing to find them. He helped the human back to his home, where they were healed and spared from their pain. The king and queen adopted them as their own child, and the human was finally happy.

One day, the human and Asriel returned to the mountain, searching for buttercup flowers that grew about for their mother’s birthday. They were attacked by guardsmen who had been searching for the human, who all but slaughtered her.

In the human’s dying breath, they begged Asriel to absorb their soul.

Asriel did so… but not for the reason the human wished for.

They did it so they could grab their sibling’s body and run, they wished not to attack or hurt anyone.

They managed to grab their body and run off the mountain, but not without being mortally wounded. Covered in injuries. The prince didn’t make it far before he collapsed, clutching his best friend’s body as his dust spread upon the flower’s around.

The King and Queen were filled with grief, and ordered every monster to not go anywhere near the mountain.

The journey to reach the surface was hard and treacherous, but the journey to than climb down the mountain and pass the thick jungle to a monster was usually too much, for the children who were often starved, wounded and weak.

A little girl, about 5 managed to make it out of the barrier, then immediately collapsed and was too weak to continue, leaving behind her toy knife and blue ribbon.

A boy about 12 made it out in better shape, ready to fair the jungles.

… was unfortunate enough to be caught in a freak snowstorm, burying him alive his boxing glove and bandana becoming trapped in the hard rock on the descent down.

An 11 year old girl was quick and nimble enough to slowly make her way down the mountain, but unfortunately had her leg shatter from a sudden nasty fall, and was left to starve. Her broken ballet shoe and tutu left as reminder’s at what she didn’t get to achieve.

A ten year old sweet girl, though badly wounded was able to slowly and carefully make her way fully down.

The jungle, thick and hard to navigate, made her lost often. Starving, she didn’t realize that the berries here could be poisonous. She died in less than an hour, her pan and apron a reminder of the meals she never got to make.

The second oldest, a 14 year old was tactical, making their way down the mountain and able to make their way through the jungle.

… they were about a day away from safety when they met a hungry tiger, who simply tore them apart. Their cloudy glasses and notebook stained with blood tell their story, and how they got lucky.. right until the end.

The 6th human, a 16 year old boy, was the only one who made it

… but right as he came to the end of the jungle, a snake bit him, and poison was too strong for even him to fight. The monsters tried to save him… but they got to him too late

Even so, at least he was treated with the upmost care in his final days.

The humans all lost hope of trying to escape, simply accepting their fate for thousands of years

…. Until an 8 year old with a striped shirt, attempted to escape with their 6 year old cousin.

They managed to escape, but the younger one was captured… and they were the only human who had quite a powerful tool at their disposal.

Determination, they were determined to find the monsters, ask for their help in saving their cousin, and end the tyranny that was the underground.

Well… the determination might not be the only help someone so young has to be able to survive the horrific journey.

~~~~~~~~

AN- This is the main story for this AU! I came up with this a LONG time ago, and decided it was about time to fully develop it! I’ll definitely be drawing character sheets later on- hope you all enjoyed!

#TrueSwapTale #undertale #undertale au #Asriel #Chara #The fallen humans #Frisk #Bigotry mention #Injuries mention #raoe mention #torture mention #slavery tw #death tw #child death #(a lot of it-)#writing #a lot of the warnings are just talking about it happening #there's really not much detail-

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sunnydaleafterdark · 4 months

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Latest Story: It Was The Snow, Chapter 1 by simmony [NC-17]

Read it here: https://www.sunnydaleafterdark.com/viewstory.php?sid=1528&chapter=1

It's Christmas Day 1999, and Buffy is determined to make up for the disaster that was Thanksgiving. Even the weather seems to be in her favor, ringing in the season with a freak snowstorm for the gang to frolic in. Only all of a sudden everyone starts to feel very horny, and Giles seems to think there is something nefarious going on, and why is Buffy horny for Spike of all people?

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textual-deviant-blog · 6 months

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Conflagration - A short prompt.

youtube

There's a strange calmness within you when your feel your feet leave the ground. The first paradox comes with the onset of wind- it's too loud to hear anything else. It rushes past, and almost through you as you fall. The top of the sinkhole falls away from you, and for a scant few seconds, you feel weightless.

The impact comes and goes as it breaks something possibly vital, but you were numb long before you jumped. The water is bitingly cold, sapping heat like a pit of vipers. Your body, as if in protest, feels hot. Searing, almost. A second paradox. It is of no reassurance that you know this to be a just another trick of your mind; that your body is pushing through the last of it's reserves like a desperate wildfire in the middle of a snowstorm.

Once it's done ravishing the landscape, the cold will set in, and then death.

But, therein lies the third paradox.

You float there, on the surface of that windswept lake, lacking the weight to sink properly. Exactly when death claimed you shall forever remain a mystery, as you did not see a light, you didn't have a final reconciliation with past memories and deceased loved ones, you did not even feel the last of your strength leave you.

With a final intake of air, you pass out before you can even exhale, being left, in that moment, holding your breath for all of eternity.

It's sudden and immediate when you wake, as though mere seconds passed. So sudden, in fact, that you could almost swear that you hadn't died out there in the Wight Hole.

For a single, thoughtless, hopeful moment, you thought you had failed to kill yourself.

That thought leaves you the moment your vision clears, and, instead of Detroit's starless sky, you're greeted by something more akin to a great sea of colors. You lay there, stunned, as swathes of cosmic beauty dance across your eyes.

The grass sways with the wind a moment longer, then stops, and only the sound of footsteps moving across the grass can be heard. Laying there, you quickly shift your body around to face the noise. Whoever had made it was most likely directly behind you.

You were only partially correct.

A great shadow loomed over you as the new arrival inspected you- or, more likely, you were the new arrival. Their arms and legs stretched a little too long even for such prodigal proportions, and his skin was purplish, stretched, and wrinkled across all of his surface, which was only visible on his hands and head, past his sleeves and unkempt head of hair. His jumpsuit hung loose, being the wrong size, and their hair had barely recieved more attention than keeping it out of their eyes.

They seemed amused. "A new face touches the void. I suggest you dim your flames, or you may not last very long here."

Before I could even wonder "What flames?" I smelled something burning. I looked down, and saw my body. Saw what had been on the edge of my vision but had been ignored in favor of what was pretty and spectacular and not whatever the hell this was.

What I was, was on fire. The grass was alight, and I was panicking.

First, I yelped and tried to put myself out by dropping to the ground and rolling. The purple flames did not submit. They were not hot, but it freaked me the hell out. And they caused even more grass to burn.

Second, I planned to plead to the stranger for help, but he was but a distant laughter by the time I had gathered myself.

Third, I finally tried to just... not be on fire. I succeeded. Then collapsed from exhaustion. Or, more accurately, my limbs wouldn't move.

Rather than learn how, I just decided to take a few more breaths, and then a few more, before eventually someone else came upon me.

There was no amusement in their voice as they spoke, tenderly and ponderous. A far departure than the wrinkled old cynic. "Child," They said almost remorsefully, "Welcome to the Void. I must apologize for the world that is, for now, you are no longer as you were. You will never be able to return to what you were. What you are now, is... a Conflagration. And I, I am an Ember."

Gentle hands cradled my head, "You will have to learn quickly. But for now, rest. Let the harshness of the world fade away, if just for now. When you awaken, you must embrace it. The void demands nothing less."

I felt a tap on my forehead, and it was like a dam had collapsed in my mind. I didn't merely fall unconscious. It was as though all the aches and strains of my life had caught up to me, and I could think of nothing but succumbing to my body's needs.

My eyes shut, and I let myself fall into a deep, deep sleep.

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xcziel · 2 years

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FYI DMBJ fandom:

... just saying

#dmbj #had a thought and was curious so i looked it up #it is indeed possible to write the iron triangle (+ whoever else tagged along) being stranded at ike- i mean yijia #obviously they're not there for furniture but you can't tell me pangzi wouldn't be determined to try the meatballs for himself #or maybe they're setting up an apartment for someone who wants to make *certain*#there's absolutely no ghosts or curses or spirits or whatever attached to their new couch/bed/desk #after one incident too many staying at wushanjou (i.e. in wu xie's vicinity)#maybe huo daofu is setting up a clinic office and doesn't want to take any risks #maybe the tiger trio want a newly bought Definitely Not Haunted In Any Way couch or entertainment center #imagine wang can or someone wandering along sulkily calculating the bullet stopping power of various tables etc #and loudly explaining how to turn every knickknack into a deadly weapon or projectile #pangzi and wu xie ordering 2/3 of the restaurant menu and then critiquing it at top volume #maybe at the end of the trip the ikea staff are SO ready to see the back of them #only there's a sudden freak snowstorm #and it turns out that a lot of the furnitire was *manufactured* in china - in a haunted factory #so somehow wu xie & co.'s expertise ends up being necessary after everyone tries bedding down for the night #only for the weird shadows sudden chills cold spots to actually be evidence of like idk a cursed fjädermoln pillow #kan jian was just hugging laying his head on that you guys! it's was so cute! and huggably soft! but it tried to kill him!#stop laughing it's not funny!#lol the betrayal #everyone ends up sleeping in a giant puppy pile of cushions and bedding and in the morning #the ikea staff send them off with like all the meatballs they can carry #(partly bc pangzi is awake and hungry after all the nighttime fuss and ready to head to the restaurant for breakfast)#i just think the idea of xiaoge trying to find shadows to skulk in as he's trailing behind wu xie through the store is hilarious #also maybe he finds a barndröm to cuddle *and* store an ändlig set in

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samplingmoonsters · 3 years

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Imagine Dream bring the mega simp he is and Techno just bring completely oblivious

Then just imagine, they are just hanging out together, it's winter so they have scarfs and thick jackets. Dream's face is just blushing, Techno realizes and goes "hey are you alright, are you sick?" And Dream internally is having a gay panic and hides his face in his scarf as he just stammers out "o-oh yeah I'm fine", Techno doesn't believe him so he grabs his face to get a better look and Dream is just dying

Winter in the Antarctic was harsh and unforgiving. Besides the occasional snowstorms wrecking chaos over the icy lands, the temperature also dropped to an almost unbearable level. At least in the eyes of Dream, who despite his thick winter coat and scarf still feels the ruthless cold on his skin. Yet another shudder travels down his back while he rubs his gloveless hands together, trying to warm them up without success. Not for the first time, since stepping out of Technoblade’s warm hoot, he regrets not wearing gloves. He should have really thought ahead before following the hybrid outside to spend more time with him, only to end up watching the man chop firewood while he stood behind freezing his ass off.

When Technoblade said ‘he had something important to do outside’ Dream thought he meant taking care of his million dogs or maybe visiting Philza or something, not chopping wood!

Not that the sight in front of him isn’t appealing… To be honest, Technoblade looks rather hot with his ax in hand and sweat dripping down his face. The way the man pulls the weapon down, the muscles in his arms constricting with the movement and red eyes sparkling in the early morning light is one of the hottest sights Dream has the honour and pleasure to witness. Once again, Dream’s eyes wander up Technmoblade’s shoulders, forest green eyes watch the broad shoulders move under the thin white shirt, analyzing every movement like a hawk hunting their prey. While it’s kind of strange to see Technoblade so unbothered by the cold, Dream is thankful to finally have an opportunity to watch Technoblade’s impressive muscles in action without looking like a creep. It’s not like he could stare at the man while they’re dueling, he would just end up with a sword in his chest… or worse.

It’s not often that the man doesn’t wear his iconic red cloak, so Dream takes the rare opportunity to remember every detail of the usually hidden parts of Technoblade’s beautiful body.

He is so distracted by Technoblade’s broad shoulders that he doesn’t even realize when said man stops moving. An awkward cough catches his attention and without thinking Dream looks up, eyes finding blood red ones. He stares into the red pools like a child with his hand caught in the cookie jar. Guilt and embarrassment overtaking his body from being caught checking out his rival like a slice of steak.

For several seconds no one says anything while the rivals stare at each other. Their warm breath evaporates in the cold air, it’s a stark contrast to the ever-building tension slowly wrapping around them like a thick blanket.

Dream’s sure that his face must resemble a tomato at this point. Not able to bear one more second of the awkward staring contest, Dream looks away, green dots now staring at Techno’s chest instead of his face. “…what?” Dream breathes out, his voice muffled from the scarf wrapped around him.

Instead of answering, Techno tilts his head to the side, red eyes squinting at him, “Hey, be real with me for a moment,” Techno begins, another long breath escaping icy lips, “are you...sick or something?”

Dream’s brain short circuit, every one of his synapses snapping from the pure panic overtaking his body. His thoughts are an ongoing stream of omgomgomgomgomg--- while he slowly falls into the early stages of a panic attack. He can feel his blush intensify, if that is even possible, freckles standing out against the bright red cheeks like stars in a midnight sky. For the first time since stepping outside, Dream feels warm, body almost catching on fire from the pure embarrassment. The break from the bitter cold would be a relieving sensation in any other situation. How could he possibly explain to Technoblade that he isn’t actually sick but simply flushed from watching the hybrid chop wood without sounding like a total creep and freak!?

Simply Impossible!

Taking Dream’s silence has a bad sight, Techno continues, a worried frown overtaking his usually stoic expression, “Your face is all red.” he waves a hand over his own face, “Dream,” Techno sounds so disappointed Dream could cry, “if you are sick you shouldn’t have followed me outside.”

Hiding his face into his scarf from sheer embarrassment, he shakes his head, “I’m- uhm- I-I’m not sick…” he mumbles, unsure if the hybrid could even understand him with how he is burying his face into the soft fabric.

Dream would really appreciate a sudden zombie attack right now. Anything to distract the pigman.

Not satisfied with the blond’s unsure answer, Techno steps forward, large, warm hands curling around Dream’s face. The blond let out a surprised breath at the unexpected touch, eyes widening when his face is lifted out of the soft fabric. No way to escape the strong hold on his cheeks, Dream has no other choice but to meet blood-red eyes once more. He feels like a small bunny under the Blood God’s wandering gaze.

Like a sacrifice ready to meet their demise.

Technoblade eyes pierce into him, sharp like a sword and just as dangerous. Dream shudders under the intense gaze and he couldn’t help but lean into the large hands cradling his face, oh so carefully. Rough hands that usually only know cruelty and the lust for blood, are caressing his face like he’s something precious, something to be loved. And Dream falls under the soft touch like a man meeting the sharp end of a sword in a sweet death. A shaky breath escapes frozen pink lips and Dream closes his eyes, at last surrendering to the man he loved.

Silence fell over them.

Dream wouldn’t mind staying like this forever. Feeling Technoblade’s loving touch for all eternity.

Of course nothing lasts forever and the serene silence is broken by the hybrid once more, “Hmm… you’re certainly burning up and your face is all red too.”

All of the sudden the warm hands disappear and Dream has to bite his lip to swallow down the whine that wants to escape his throat. Green eyes fly open and look up at the piglin, “Wait--- what?” Dream has totally forgotten about Technoblade’s allegation, too lost in their sweet moment to remember anything that happened shortly before Technoblade’s hands found his face.

“Memory problems too?” Techno half-teases, a grin forming around pearly-white tusks, “Now you really need to lie down. Let’s better go inside before your condition worsens.” Techno turns around to lift up his ax which lays forgotten in the snow next to the chopped firewood. He turns back around and takes Dream’s wrist with his free hand, slowly steering the other male towards the small house a few feet away.

Still somewhat lost from the sudden turn of events, Dream lets himself be dragged through the snow without complaint, the ice crystals crunching under their feet with each step. Green eyes fall to the large hand curled around his wrist, and he hopes Techno can’t feel the way his pulse is racing under his skin.

Feeling brave, he pushes his hand down far enough to curl their fingers together. Techno reciprocates the simple touch, a low hum escaping his lips as he tightens his hold around Dream’s hand.

Feeling pleasantly warm in the freezing cold, Dream buries his face into his green scarf and smiles softly, heart soaring in his chest like the sun slowly rising in the distance.

Spring is coming.

(I write this at 2am after coming back from a night out with my friends! I hope you like it anon! <3 Yes I was a little tipsy while writing this.)

#anon ask #dnb #dreamnoblade #technodream #tw long post #fanfic #1200 words btw #sammy's book club

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seylumdarklight · 3 years

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Cold (Corpse Husband X Reader)

MERRY CHRISTMAS!!! As a gift, I present this story as a present. I apologize for any grammar and spelling errors, I had been trying all day to finish this but my family seem to make it there mission to keep me from working on it. I hope that everyone has a safe and wonderful holiday! Pairing: Corpse Husband X Reader. Fluff fluff Maybe the cold wasn’t so bad. _______________________________________________________________ It was safe to say Corpse was a Cali boy. The sunny, warm city of San Diego has been his home for all his life. The only differences in the seasons were that the temperature dropped about ten degrees in fall and winter. Corpse was west cost boy through and through. You, however, came from the northeast United States. Hot, sunny summer days on the beach and cold, snowy winters were the beloved memories of your childhood. You loved the orange and reds that painted the trees in fall and the colorful flowers that sprung up in spring. The changing of the seasons was a hard loss when you moved to the west coast. You were okay with it, you had amazing friends and a wonderful loving boyfriend but the holidays didn’t feel quite the same. You were a little down when you say the Christmas decorations and the temperature were in the high sixty. There had always been the idea of going home for the holiday but you didn’t want to leave Corpse alone. No one should spend the holidays alone and you two had spent the holidays together since you first moved to the west coast. Your family had been asking for you to bring this wonderful boyfriend you mentioned so much home so they could finally put a face (and name) to the man and what a better time than the holidays right? As much as you wanted to, you always turned down the invitation and idea of going back home for the holidays. Traveling was stressful, especially when it was to another state. Add on the stress of the usual stress of the holidays and meeting your family on top of that and you worried. Corpse already had a bit of a hard time going outside and you didn’t dare put that kind of stress on him. You were content with spending the holidays in your little apartment with Corpse. That was until he brought the idea up himself. “Are you sure you are okay with this?” You asked for probably the thousandth time. The two of you were getting ready to head to the airport. Suitcases were by the door and you were doing one last check around the apartment before you left. You figured that it would be best to get an overnight flight because they were less likely to be crowded and less chaotic. Your question had been one that you had asked over and over again. “For the hundredth time, I’m perfectly okay with this, Y/N.” Corpse said, hiding his shaking hands in the pocket of his hoodie. “It’s too late for us to cancel anyway.” Tucking the envelope with the tickets into your purse, You walked over to Corpse and looked into his eyes. After two years of dating, the two of you were pretty good at reading each other. You could see his anxiety was through the roof but Corpse was trying to keep a brave face for you. Reaching up, you wrapped your arms around his neck and hugged him tightly. His breath fanned against your neck and he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close. “I love you, Corpse. If you don’t feel okay with this, we don’t have to go. My family will understand.” You told him as you pulled back slightly. Corpse tilted his head down slightly, gently pressing his forehead against yours. “Honey, I want to do this.” He said before kissing your forehead. “I’m curious to see where you grew up and meet your family. You’ve done so much for me, Let me do this one thing for you.” You blinked away the tears that were threatening to fill your eyes. “I don’t know what I did to deserve someone as wonderful as you.” You said. A grin spreads across Corpse’s lips and he chuckled. “I wonder the same thing every day. Come one, we better go before we’re late.” Stealing one last kiss from each other, the two of you locked up the apartment and headed downstairs. Corpse felt your hand slide into his, warm fingers lacing with his cold ones, and gave it a gentle squeeze. He squeezed back, smiling softly. His nerves and anxiety were still pretty high but with you by his side, it didn’t seem so suffocating. ________________________ It was cold. Really cold. Corpse groaned slightly as he slowly woke up, his body aching slightly. The familiar warmth and scent of vanilla told him that it was you cuddled against his side. Out of habit, he lifted a hand and ran it through your hair. With his other hand, he sluggishly felt around on the side table for his or your phone. He grabbed it and brought it close to check the time. The brightness of the screen made him flinch and let out a mumbled curse as he fumbled a bit to turn it down. Once he managed to do it, Corpse saw that it was three am. Well, he had managed to get at least a few hours of sleep. The two of you had been at your parent’s house for three days. It hadn’t been bad. The plane ride and meeting your parents had been the most stressful. His hands couldn’t stop shaking and he had been breathing a little faster than normal but you managed to keep him grounded. You never let go of his hand, constantly reminding him that you were there. Your family was very welcoming. Your mother had wasted no time to break out the baby albums and show Corpse the pictures of younger you cover head-to-toe in the mud with a bright grin on your face. Your father had been prepared to give Corpse the whole “Protective father talk.” but one look at you and Corpse’s intertwined hands and the way you were towards each other, he knew that his daughter was in safe hands. You couldn’t be more ecstatic that your parents love Corpse and you could slowly see Corpse relaxing around them. A sudden chill ran down his spine and Corpse held you a bit closer. The cold was one thing he was not a fan of. He was from San Diego. The lowest it ever got there was in the fifties and when you two-step off the plane, it was freaking thirties. It sucked! He pulled the blanket up higher, trying to salvage some of the warmth underneath. It made his body ache, his nose runny, he could feel the tips of his fingers or his toes and it was just...cold!! Looking towards the window, he noticed something. He shifted a bit to get a better look. Outside, in the soft yellow glow of the streetlights, snowflakes slowly danced down to earth. It was a steady flurry, not too light yet not a huge snowstorm. Corpse watched the flakes descended from the sky. He had never seen snow in real life before. “It’s pretty isn’t it.” Corpse looked down to see you awake and watching the snow with a sleepy smile on your lips. “When I was younger and I knew it would snow, I would stay up to see the first flakes fall from the sky. There something about seeing those flurries that just makes me happy..” He hummed softly, fingers lazily running through your hair. You melted slightly as you turned your head to nuzzle him. A smile tugged on his lips and he pressed his face into your hair. You were right in a way. While it didn’t give him the excitement you mentioned at the moment, maybe because it was late and/or he was still overly tired from being. However, watching the snowfall in the warm, yellowish glow from the nearby streetlight and having you snuggles against his side sent this calmness over him. He closed his eyes, pulling you close. You had already drifted back to sleep, a content smile on your lips. For a moment like this...maybe the cold isn’t so bad. I hope you guys enjoyed it. I think its pretty decent for having been slightly rushed. If anyone wants to be added to a future tag list, let me know. Now I’m off to bed. Merry Christmas to all and too all a good night.

#corpse husband fanfic #corpse husband x reader #corpse x y/n #reader instert #corpse husband #merry christmas

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fletchphoenix · 3 years

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Nightmares

I am....back? I guess? This is kinda short - just a lil drabble while I work on the Coffee Shop au and some other side projects but hey at least its content! love you all and hope you enjoy! <3

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

Knock. Knock. Knock.

The blond stirred in his bed, his eyes slowly opening and his brain trying to figure out where the hell that knocking was coming from. Couldn’t be the window, Hugo thought as he glanced over at the paned glass - he was on the second floor and as far as he knew, there were no trees outside that could potentially be knocking their branches against his window. The only viable option was the door at the entrance to his room, unless by some freak chance there was a serial killer waiting in his closet for him to fall asleep, which if that was the case, why would they knock and alert him to their presence?

Knock, knock, knock.

“Alright, alright...I’m comin’” He slurred, drowsiness still lingering in his voice as he swung his legs off the side of the bed, letting them hit the freezing, wooden floor, all the while his hand fumbled across the bedside table, searching for his glasses. After a few seconds, his fingers grasped the wire frames, the blond setting them in place on his face. Whoever was outside his door in the middle of the night had better have a good excuse, he thought while he stumbled through the pitch black room. Eventually, his hand met the cool metal of the door handle, the teenager pulling open sleeping. “Someone better be dying-” he muttered, his words dying down in his throat as his eyes adjusted to the sight in front of him.

There stood Varian, at this moment in time a sniffling mess, rubbing at his eyes supposedly to get rid of tears that ran down his cheeks - Hugo could faintly see the tracks that they’d left from the faint glow of the moonlight in the hallway, the liquid glistening ever so slightly as the other stared at him quietly. His hair was a mess, showing that he’d clearly just woken up or had been pulling it. The teen’s faithful raccoon wasn’t accompanying him either. Strange. Almost instantly, Varian stepped forward, resting his forehead against Hugo’s chest (much to the blond’s surprise as the weight settled against his chest). “Woah okay goggles. That’s uh-wow that’s a lot of sudden affection. Care to tell me the problem?” “Nightmare.” A mumble came, the raven haired teen’s voice barely audible from being obscured by the cloth of Hugo’s shirt. Ah. Nightmare. Why the hell would he be coming to Hugo for comfort from a nightmare? All the blond does is antagonise and annoy him, giving him stupid nicknames and pointing out his flaws every single time he did even one thing wrong, so why the hell was he now so comfortable with Hugo? The blond let out a gentle sigh, moving his hands to wrap around the other’s waist in an admittedly awkward hug, his chin settling on top of the teen’s head as he directed a blank stare towards the wall of the corridor.

“Can I stay with you for the rest of the night?”

The question was almost inaudible, the teen’s voice clearly shaky and nervous as he posed the question to the older teen. For a split second, Hugo could swear his heart had skipped a beat as he heard the question from the other, and in a swift movement, the blond bought his foot forwards to gently kick the door closed behind the raven haired boy, his arms wrapped around the other as he shuffled backwards towards the double bed situated in the middle of the inn’s room. “Alrighty Varian. Lets get settled, okay?”

Taking a seat on the bed, Hugo’s hands absentmindedly rose as he brushed away the teen’s tears. It was a shame, really - he was so beautiful all the time, and at the sight of those tears, Hugo’s heart hurt at the sight. “Hey, don’t cry. You wanna talk about what’s wrong or just...go to sleep?” A deep sigh came from the other teenager, Varian shuffling uncomfortably in place as Hugo’s eyes focused on him.

“I...when I was fourteen, I was-there were these black rocks destroying my kingdom. I...I didn’t know where they were from at first so-so I thought I’d experiment. I thought that-that if I found a way to get rid of them that...that maybe my dad would be proud of me. That-that people would stop seeing me as a mistake and-and that maybe he’d start respecting me and my experiments.” Another sigh was let out by the alchemist, his fringe falling in front of his face as a frown settled onto it. Hugo would give anything to get rid of that frown on the other’s face. It really didn’t suit him at all.

“I...one of my experiments messed up. My dad-he uh..pushed me out of the way of some amber that was growing around it. And he ended up uh-getting encased. I headed through a snowstorm to get him help from the princess. I begged and begged and...no one helped. I felt so betrayed by her and like-like I didn’t matter. So I decided to make them hear me. I...stole the sundrop flower and...and tried to use it to free my father. When that didn’t work, I kidnapped the queen and...and attacked everyone. I just wanted them to hear me and...I was arrested.”

“I joined the Saporians and helped them take over...and I...I helped to fight back against them as well. I amended everything with the princess and the kingdom, but I still can’t shake the feeling that...that I’m always going to be a villain and that I’m always gonna be a screw up.” Letting out a deep breath, Varian finally directed his gaze back to the blond, his mouth agape. “Sorry, heh..it’s a lot, isn’t it?” Hugo sat in a stunned silence for a few moments, his eyes focused on the other. Gulping, Hugo placed his hand on the other’s cheek, tucking a few stray strands of hair behind the other’s ear and taking in the sight of Varian’s amazed face with a smug expression. “Well…you aren’t wrong. It’s a lot to take in. But...you’re still my favourite science nerd, whether you committed treason or not. You’re still Varian to me. So how about we go to bed..?” The blond smiled.

“I...yes. Yes sure.” Varian replied, allowing for Hugo to shuffle under the covers, before shuffling in beside him, laying down with his head resting on the blond’s chest and listening to the steady heartbeat there, smiling to himself. “Goodnight Hugo.” He muttered, his eyes closing as he curled up beside the blond and his arm wrapped around his waist. “G’night Varian.” Hugo whispered in response, pressing a kiss to his forehead and setting his glasses aside on the bedside table once again before closing his eyes and letting himself drift off to sleep, Varian in his arms.

#varian and the seven kingdoms #tangled varian #varian tangled #varigo #varian x hugo #hugo tangled #tangled hugo #rapunzles tangled adventure #im back :)#its been a hot minute #this is short oof #alchemy boyfriends

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ncssian · 3 years

Text

A Favor: Part Three

Nessian Modern AU

Masterlist

a/n: tw for abuse mention. i hope this chapter is readable bc a lot of it was written when i should've been sleeping.

***

“...expecting heavy snow, possibly even a snowstorm, by the end of the week.” The TV blares softly in the background as Nesta types away on her laptop propped on the arm of the couch. The fireplace is up and crackling, and Cassian has to stop in the threshold between kitchen and living room to take in the scene. He’s getting a little too used to this, he worries sometimes. She’ll be gone as soon as her apartment is fixed, he reminds himself, and pushes off the wall to circle the couch and approach Nesta.

He sets the steaming mug of coffee down on the table before her and takes a seat beside her. She doesn’t even stop typing as she glances up and murmurs a “thank you” before returning to her paper.

Cassian doesn’t want to interrupt her work, so he settles into the comfortable habit of watching her. They watch each other a lot— Nesta claims it’s because she’s bored and there’s nothing else to look at. Cassian has no such delusions.

She’s in a wool sweater and thick leggings today. Her hair is pulled back in a worn braid and her glasses are pushed all the way up her nose, but what catches Cassian’s attention tonight is the way her baby hairs escape her braid and frizz around her temples. Yesterday it was the way her cheeks flushed in the firelight, and the day before it was those damn glasses. Today it’s baby hairs.

The fantasy is quick and sneaky, there in his mind before he’s even aware of it.

Getting up to sit on the floor before her. Nudging her legs apart with slow hands while her fingers stutter over the keyboard. Pushing the hem of her sweater up, and pulling her leggings down. “Focus on your work,” he says when she tries to push her laptop away. “Finish your paper for me.” Tracing the inside of her thighs with his lips until his head is right—

The slam of a laptop snaps Cassian out of it. Nesta makes a frustrated growl and rubs her hands across her face before shoving her laptop aside to reach for the coffee.

He raises a brow, endlessly amused by everything she does. “Writing troubles?”

“I deserve a break,” she grumbles.

“I could help with that.”

Tucking her feet beneath her legs, Nesta ignores him and gestures at the TV with her chin. “Think we’ll get snowed in?”

Cassian almost hopes so. Any excuse to build more fires and stay inside with Nesta. “I’ll have to make a shopping trip,” he says casually. “You want anything?”

“I want to be in a state where there aren’t blizzards in October.” She looks over at him. “I miss Tennessee.” It’s a simple admission that brings Cassian to attention. She never gives out details about herself unprompted.

“I didn’t know you still got homesick.” Feyre never talks about her childhood in Tennessee. The only indicator of the Archeron sisters’ pasts is Elain’s sweet little Southern belle accent, which Cassian has a feeling is more for show at this point than anything else.

Nesta shrugs awkwardly in response, but he keeps going. “Rhys’s mom had a summer house in the Smokies. We would go down there each year without fail until college.” Rhys thinks it was fate that the summer home was so close to the small mountain town where Feyre grew up. Cassian thinks that’s a stretch.

“Yeah?” Nesta sips her coffee. “Have you gone back since?”

He shakes his head. “Rhys and Feyre are renovating it right now. You should come vacation with us when it’s done.” He perks up at the sudden idea.

Nesta gives him that familiar weird look from the corner of her eye. “Mm-hm,” she hums noncommittally.

“I’m serious,” Cassian insists. “We could have fun.” He’s already imagining it, getting to show Nesta around the place he grew up. Hearing what she has to say about the rocks and corners he would hurt himself on when he played with his brothers, maybe even hearing about her childhood in the Smokies. But Nesta looks stuck, unsure of how to turn him down.

“It doesn’t sound like a good idea,” she states finally. “I wouldn’t be welcomed there, and I would be the odd outlier the entire time at best.”

Cassian already knows Nesta has no interest in getting friendly with the rest of Feyre’s friend group, and he can respect that. But he still wants her there.

“You wouldn’t have to hang out with everybody there,” he says. “You’d have me and your sisters. That’s three whole people.”

She looks surprised at that. “Since when did I have you?”

Oh. Cassian shrugs. “We’re friends, right? I like you, so you have me.”

She straightens even further at that. He continues without waiting for her reply. “That’s why I want you to vacation with us. I like you, and I’d like having you there.”

Nesta sits back against the couch, staring at him, and then her coffee, then him. “This is new,” she finally says.

Cassian is lost. “What is?”

She considers for a moment, chewing her lip. “I’ve had people say they love me,” she says slowly, “but I don’t think anyone has ever liked me very much.”

The words are so incomprehensible that Cassian just sits there like a fool. She’s making even less sense than when she told him she used to come around to Feyre’s all the time and he never noticed. “I don’t get it. Who doesn’t like you?”

Nesta frowns deeply. “Don’t make me come up with a list. It’s not nice.”

Cassian might need a list, because he wants to have words with these people. “Okay, then. Why wouldn’t anybody like you?”

Nesta’s eyes narrow into a glare and she scoffs like he just said something offensive. “Jesus, I don’t know. Why don’t you call up my ex and ask if you care so much?” She sets her empty mug down and stands up, gathering her laptop and notes as she goes.

Cassian doesn’t know what he said wrong. “Wait, Nes—”

“Thanks for the coffee, I’m going to finish my work in my room.” She pushes her glasses up her nose and speedwalks out of the room, ignoring Cassian’s calls to wait.

***

Cassian can’t sleep that night knowing Nesta is upset with him. He tried knocking at her door when he came upstairs an hour after Nesta had, but the lights were off and he received no reply. Now in bed, he listens to the howl of late autumn wind outside and goes over everything Nesta said earlier.

She misses Tennessee. She feels that nobody likes her. She has an ex that definitely doesn't like her.

It's the last two details that bother Cassian the most. He’s about to spiral into another hour of overthinking when his phone lights up on the nightstand.

Subconsciously thinking it's a text from Nesta, his hand shoots for his phone. He has to smother his disappointment when he sees it's only Feyre checking in.

Feyre: how are things going with nesta? is she causing u any trouble?

Maybe he’s still upset about his conversation with Nesta, but the text rubs him the wrong way. Nesta sounds like a pet or a rowdy child.

Cass: not at all. she’s perfect

He quickly erases that last word and hesitates, trying to think of another one.

she’s lovely wonderful great. He settles on great and clicks send.

A reply pops up a few seconds later.

Feyre: lmao sure

Cassian frowns at his phone. What’s that supposed to mean?

Another text appears: just tell me if you need anything and i’ll take care of it. i know this isnt easy.

What isn’t easy? Having a roommate? Cassian replies, We don’t need anything, we’re fine. He uses capitalization and everything, feeling offended for some reason. And then, not really wanting to see a reply from Feyre, he turns his phone off and leaves it facedown on the nightstand.

He shuffles deeper under the covers and pushes his friend out of his mind, thinking about ways to make up with Nesta tomorrow instead.

***

Nesta stays up all night berating herself for how she reacted to Cassian’s innocent question. She wasn’t expecting him to pry for details because no one ever pries into her life, and she freaked out instead of rationally assessing the situation.

A part of her is satisfied now, having seen this coming from a mile away. It happens with everyone she meets, when she says or does something wrong and inevitably pushes them away. Maybe she should keep pushing him away, and keep him at arm’s length for the rest of her time here.

A larger part of Nesta is embarrassed at having caused a scene, and worse, mentioning Tomas. Because that’s exactly where her mind went when Cassian asked that question— to the man who used to say he loved her, but who never truly liked her. Intrusive memories from years past attack Nesta until the sky outside turns a light gray: dressing up for fancy business events and having his arm wrapped around her waist in an illusion of affection. Him pinching her side hard enough to make tears spring to her eyes when nobody was looking and leaning into her ear to lovingly whisper everything wrong with her that night. Going home and having makeup sex.

She’s still flustered from Cassian and can’t keep the thoughts out as well as usual. When she finally does drift off into a restless imitation of sleep, it’s by holding her thumb to her wrist until the steady beat of her pulse soothes her worn nerves.

Nesta wakes up cramping.

It takes her a few moments to pull out of the fog of sleep and recognize the feeling, and she groans aloud. This can’t be happening to her right now.

She was stupidly hoping that her period would hold off until she moved back into her apartment. Her premenstrual cramps are telling her she has two days at most.

She refuses to go through that experience in the same house as Cassian. Her family doesn’t even like being in the same house as her when she’s on her period. Her ex would outright leave their apartment and stay at a friend’s until she got over it. So this…

She groans once more and pulls herself out of bed. A quick phone check tells her it’s only been three hours since she fell asleep, but she’s given up at this point.

Nesta tiptoes hesitantly out of her room, not wanting to face Cassian just yet. It’s only when she reaches the stairs that she realizes the house is unusually quiet, even though it’s almost eleven.

Frowning, Nesta pads into the kitchen to find two things: a covered dish sitting on the island and a green sticky-note stuck to the fridge. She goes for the note first.

In messy handwriting it reads: Went out for groceries. Text me if you need anything. Beneath the words is a dark, almost furious scribble of ink, as if Cassian had written something there only to forcefully scratch it out.

Without overthinking it, she gets out her phone and texts Cassian that she needs pads. It only occurs to her after she’s sent the message that that’s probably not enough information.

Having Cassian know Nesta is on her period is one thing, but him knowing the size of her pad? The heaviness of her flow? She might need to enforce that rule about him never speaking to her again.

In her best attempt to not be viewed as a walking blood gusher, she asks for a smaller size pad than usual and turns her phone all the way off so she can’t see any replies.

Once you’re out of this house you’ll never have to see him again, so it won’t matter if you’re the rude bitch who cried and bled a lot while she was staying at his place.

Going over to the kitchen island, she uncovers the plate she assumes is for her. She isn’t expecting anything much, maybe Cassian’s leftovers from breakfast, so she hesitates when she sees a full stack of chocolate chip pancakes. Carefully decorated with berries and syrup, they’ve long gone cold, but— still.

Nesta reaches out as if they might not be real, or not meant for her, but nothing happens. Mouth tightening, she snatches the plate and grabs a fork.

Cassian comes in through the kitchen door twenty minutes later, long after Nesta’s cleaned off her food and washed the dishes in the sink. He throws her a smile as he shakes snow out of his hair and sets down the bags of groceries on the island by Nesta’s laptop.

“Oh, is it snowing already?” She throws a concerned glance outside, not having noticed while she was working.

“It’s light for now, but it won’t be for long.” He starts taking off his coat, and Nesta gets up to help with the groceries. She quickly finds the bag holding her stuff and discreetly sets it aside, but then Cassian grabs another bag and upturns it, its contents sprawling all over the island. “I don’t know what your period’s like, but we’re gonna be snowed in for a while so I got some of everything just in case.” He looks hesitant.

“Oh— thank you,” she says, overwhelmed. There’s three different types of painkillers, all that she already owns, and ten different types of junk food. And they're all for her. Nesta plucks up a package, stunned. “How are gummy worms supposed to help me on my period?”

Cassian leans his elbows on the marble and shrugs. “They’ll make you happy.”

“I’m allergic to gelatin.”

His face falls. “Oh.”

But Nesta just places the gummies in front of him and starts sorting the rest of the stuff. All the chocolates end up on her side, and the candies and gum and hot chips on Cassian’s side. When she's done, she finds him watching her closely. “Did you want some chocolate?” She offers out a Twix bar, her favorite. “I can trade you.”

“Uh, sure.” He accepts her Twix in exchange for his Hot Cheetos.

Silence ensues as Nesta tears open a Toblerone package and breaks off a triangle of nougat, when she remembers she has to tell him something.

“Thank you.” Her words are out of place and out of nowhere, spoken during the wrong time mark of a film and ruining the rhythm of the scene. Despite this, she powers on. “Thank you for breakfast, but also for this. Thank you for everything, really.”

Cassian perks up. “Did you like breakfast?”

Nesta nods through a mouthful of chocolate. “Chocolate chip pancakes are my favorite, and you’re good at making stuff.”

He raises a dark brow. “You mean cooking?”

“Same thing.”

“Well, I’m glad you liked it.”

Nesta slumps in relief, thinking her necessary talking points are over with. She's thanked him for shopping and for breakfast. What more could be— damn.

She clears her throat, even though she doesn't know what to say yet. She won't apologize— she doesn't know if she's physically capable of it, to be honest, but she can still seem regretful.

“Are we over last night?” she says bluntly. So much for regretful.

Cassian seems startled that she's even brought it up, which is perhaps a good sign that he already forgot about it. “Of course,” he says. “Nesta, I really didn't mean to offend you—”

Oh god, he’s not over it. “Don't apologize,” Nesta demands, throwing her hands up to ward him off. “You didn't even do anything, why would you apologize?”

“Well, you looked upset,” he says seriously. Cassian’s apologetic face looks an awful lot like hurt, though Nesta doesn't know why he would possibly feel hurt. Still, she has to pin her stare to the dark cabinets so he can't hurt her in turn. He keeps talking. “I know I promised to push your boundaries, but I never want to hurt you.”

His sincerity is more than disarming; it makes her ache.

“And I hated not talking to you last night.”

That gets Nesta's attention, and she suddenly feels two things at once: a swoop of joy that he likes talking to her, and a heavy drop of guilt that she ignored him all last night, even when he knocked on her door and apologized profusely.

“I fell asleep early,” she decides to lie. “I wasn't ignoring you.”

Cassian smiles softly and reaches out to brush a thumb over the tired circles under her eyes. “I can tell,” he says.

She's gone dead still, but she doesn’t flinch. She doesn't even want to flinch. Cassian clears his throat and drops his hand, and Nesta’s eyes follow him closely. “We’re good,” she says in finality. “Let’s go back to normal now.”

Cassian nods, his face carefully blank. “Okay. Then stop stuffing your face and help me with the rest of the groceries.” He moves off the island and elbows her on the way.

That makes Nesta smile, which makes Cassian smile even harder, and just like that, they’re back to normal.

***

a/n: two things: 1) cassian definitely texted feyre that morning and asked what nesta’s favorite breakfast was, and 2) can you tell im in love with writing nesta archeron?

tagging: @ladywitchling @sjm-things @thewayshedreamed @drielecarla @sensitiveillyrian @superspiritfestival @aliveahaahahafuck @cupcakey00 @sayosdreams @rainbowcheetah512 @claralady @thebluemartini @nessiantho @missing-merlin @duskandstarlight @lucy617 @sleeping-and-books @awesomelena555 @julemmaes @wickedqueenoffantasy @poisonous-bloom @observationanxioustheorist @gisellefigue08

#a favor #nessian #nesta archeron #cassian #ncssianwrites #nessian fic

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luvidzy · 3 years

Text

I’ll Be Home for the Holidays

☆ genre: fluff

☆ pairing: chou tzuyu x reader

☆ summary: tzuyu goes to visit her family, but when it’s time to come home things go wrong

☆ word count: 743

When Tzuyu had told you she wanted to visit her family in Taiwan over break, you had encouraged her to do it. Twice was finally taking some well deserved time off this holiday, and Tzuyu’s family hadn’t seen her in a while, so you figured it would be good for her to go back. She had offered for you to go with her, but you had declined due to work conflicts.

So, your girlfriend left for her home country and you stayed back in Korea, counting down the days til Christmas Eve when Tzuyu was supposed to come back. You were so excited and anxious to see her again, that you didn’t bother to check the weather forecast for the upcoming week. Which was why when a freak snowstorm hit the day Tzuyu was supposed to come back, you were more than unprepared.

“Tzuyu? Are you okay?” You had called immediately upon learning of the current weather, concerned that she had been grounded.

“I’m fine. But my plane is being delayed until the weather clears up. They don’t know when that’ll be, but I don’t know if I’ll be home today, Y/N.” Tzuyu’s soft voice broke the news to you, and you felt your heart sink at the sudden realization. Tzuyu might not be home for the holidays this year, and while it wasn’t the end of the world, it was a reality you had hoped would never come.

“It’s alright. I’m just glad you’re safe. Keep me updated, okay?”

“Of course.” After a few more minutes of talking and catching up, Tzuyu excused herself from the call to get food. You sat on the couch, feeling tears well up in your eyes. It felt stupid to cry over something as simple as a delayed flight, but you had truly been looking forward to spending the holiday with your girlfriend, cuddling and enjoying the presence you had missed so much.

You spent the next few hours sitting in your living room, worrying over your phone while also trying to calm yourself down. When the other Twice girls had heard the news, they had offered to come over. You didn’t want to bother any of them, but you couldn’t stop Dahyun and Chaeyoung from coming anyway, both of them knowing how deeply upset you were by Tzuyu’s absence, even if you wouldn’t say it.

“Y/N, it’ll be alright. We know you’re worried, but you can’t keep staring at your phone. Tzuyu will be alright,” Chaeyoung said. You sighed at her words, knowing she was right. Setting your phone down on the coffee table, you asked if they wanted to order some food, to which they agreed if only to give you something to get your mind off Tzuyu.

A few hours later, the 2 members left, leaving you to your thoughts and your phone. You didn’t realize how exhausted you were until you found yourself lying on the couch, eyes closing as you stared at your phone.

When you finally came back to, the sun was shining through your bedroom window. You shot up in bed, realizing that you had not fallen asleep in your bed, but in the living room. You thought back, trying to think if you had woken up and moved yourself, but you had no recollection of that happening.

Your head snapped to the door as you heard footsteps begin to approach. Your initial reaction was to grab the nearest object to get ready to defend yourself, but you quickly stopped your defense as you saw who was standing in the doorway.

In all her glory, like a Christmas miracle, your beautiful girlfriend was standing with two cups of coffee in her hands. She smiled when she noticed that you were awake, moving to set the cups down before wrapping you in a hug.

You wrapped your arms tight around her, holding her close as you felt yourself begin to tear up. Pulling away, you couldn’t help but look at her in disbelief.

“When did you get here?”

“A few hours ago. My phone died so I couldn’t tell you, but I took off last night. When I got in you were sleeping on the couch so I figured I’d move you to the bed. Merry Christmas, baby,” Tzuyu said, kissing you lightly. You pulled her back in for a hug, and swore you could have stayed there forever.

Afterall, there was no better gift than Chou Tzuyu.

#winter wonderland series #twice #twice series #twice fanfic #twice imagines #twice x reader #twice fluff #chou tzuyu #chou tzuyu imagines #tzuyu #tzuyu x reader #tzuyu imagines #tzuyu fuff

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amarantine-amirite · 3 years

Text

Cold Souls

I looked outside and saw a blanket of snow that covered buildings and streets alike. And with dark clouds so thick that very little sunlight gets through, it feels like the sky has snowed over. I had no idea what time of day it was. It could be noon, but it could also be midnight.

And the roads? Dead. The deep snow created dangerous driving conditions. Not even the people with the snowplow were willing to clear the road. It all has this forlorn quality.

The neighbourhood becomes a massive, hyper-empty void after a storm. The population falls into negative numbers. Nobody can go anywhere or do anything. It feels so eerie seeing somewhere that is usually bustling become desolate.

Probably just as well, because I had something to do today. I was not looking forward to it. A couple of months ago, my guitar teacher posted some ridiculous crap about her wedding after-party on her Instagram. It included a dance routine with an insane dress code. She stratified the dress code based on your weight, your gender, and your age. It guaranteed that virtually everyone would look ridiculous. She also demanded the people bring a crazy expensive change of clothes. She also expected that people would dance on sand in heels.

That brings us to today. Today was supposed to be the polygraph party. If that sounds like it's off-the-wall nuts, that's because it is. She made it very clear that she would ask if we secretly hated her. Playing hooky was not an option. She also told us that she would assume that any no-shows were guilty. Thankfully, the snowstorm put a stop to the insanity before it could start.

Even though I felt relieved to get out of that ludicrous polygraph party, I felt somewhat off. I felt like I didn't belong here; like I shouldn't be here. And I don't say that because the hotel gave me a deluxe suite for the cost of a regular suite.

I don't feel cheesed that I booked a hotel stay for no reason, and it's manifesting as the feeling I just described. I always feel like this when I get stressed out. And this thing with my guitar teacher pissed me off. I got my swimsuit and headed into the hot tub room. I figured that sitting in the warm water would help me unwind.

The hot tub room had three separate baths. The top compartment had notches so the water could spill into the two lower compartments. It also had a window on one end of the wall with frosted glass and yellow light in the background on the other side, and a picture of Corfu that showed a sailboat docked on the beach and a porcupine sitting on the bow.

Being in this room felt soothing. The warmth and pressure of the water reset my nervous system. I can turn on the jets. If I feel like I need more of a massage, I can crawl into the lower compartment and lie under where the water spills out of the top.

Even still, I got this uneasy feeling. All I could think about was _I am not supposed to be here. _

I've always felt like my life never felt like my own. Everywhere I went, I felt like I didn't belong. I strongly suspect people see me as an intruder. And it's only that I don't cause other people trouble that I'm not sniffed out and removed.

I never felt like I had the same privileges that other people do. I feel like I'm a guest in my own life. The food in the fridge is not my food to eat. The bed is not my bed for sleeping. My existence is not my consciousness to use, it belongs to someone else.

I have to work to tune out that feeling. This time, I can't tune it out. Maybe this time, I truly am not supposed to be here.

I looked up at the window. In the next room, I saw someone that looked like a ghost sitting at the kitchen table. What if he's watching me and writing everything down?

I got out of the hot tub. I felt too creeped out by that guy to stay. I turned out the lights to the hot tub room when I left. The light bulb went out way too quickly.

I shrugged it off, thinking that it happened circumstantially. It went beyond that.

The lights in the living room were working earlier in the day. But now, they just burned out all of a sudden. I found it very strange that all the bulbs called it quits at the same time. Nevertheless, I went to the hall closet to get new bulbs.

Five minutes after changing the last bulb, it burned out.

Worse still, the lights would abruptly turn off and on in random order. The lights would be on, but they shut off a split second later even though the switch stayed on. Sometimes, the lights would stay on even if you switched them off.

Things got worse once it got dark outside. The lights started flashing. The flashing appeared random. After watching them for a while, I realized that it was ship-to-shore Morse code. It took me a while to decipher the message. But what I said spooked the hell out of me:

Too loud. Make it stop. The demons will enter.

That's it, I thought, none of this crap is real. I'm just hallucinating. I'm tired and need to go to sleep.

Once I went to sleep, I immediately saw what "make it stop, the demons will enter" meant. I only slept for about 30 seconds until I jerked back awake.

I sat bolt-upright and looked straight ahead. I saw that the bedroom door had vanished. A glowing red exit sign in an otherwise dark hallway took its place. Hallways like that always freak me out. You never know what lurks on the other side.

Next, I heard a voice over an intercom speak in a scratchy, dying tone. It said: Please remain calm, the end has arrived. We cannot save you. Enjoy the ride.

@unpromptedprompts

#writing #writers #writers on tumblr #short fiction #creepy #liminality #creative writing #ghost story #derealisation tw #scary story #unpromptedprompts

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ateezmakemeweep · 4 years

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richboy!seonghwa (part 10)

word count: 5k

angst, fluff

(part 9) (series masterlist)

you stumble around the dark room as little nervous squeals leave your mouth. because this is the start of every horror and the more you stumble around, the more you start to freak out.

you don't even know where you're trying to go because there's no light coming out from the under the door, meaning there very well could be a murderer trailing the hallways, waiting for a damsel in distress like yours truly to venture out and fall victim to their crazy ways.

a loud scream leaves your mouth when you smack into something hard amidst your panicked thoughts, hearing it smack against the wall. a string of curses leave your mouth when you hear the crack of the lightbulb.

"why the hell is this happening," you whisper into the darkness, confused by the sudden blackout like it's at fault for you stupidly decide to stumble around; you had jumped from the initial shock of the lights turning off, your phone landing on the floor somewhere really leaving you in a pickle. a dark, scary, potentially fatal pickle.

the sound of a knock at your door causes your heart to drop, the noise fairly close indicating you've made it pretty far across the room. but the irrational thoughts pumping through you has almost fully convinced you that there's someone wielding a butcher knife just outside the door.

so you keep your mouth shut, tiptoeing closer to the best of your ability and your heart jumping when there's another knock.

"y/n?" a low, muffled voice speaks.

you put your hands out in front of you, stretching them forward until they hit the door. you put your ear against the it, listening carefully but there's only silence. so you knock back once.

"what are you doing?" the voice says and you know that irritable tone anywhere.

you rip open the door and a bright light flashes in your face, yeosang standing, holding his phone up with his eyebrow raised.

"did you think i was a murderer?"

"i probably would've preferred it," you bite back, attempting to slam the door in his face. but he brings his foot forward, shoving it halfway in your room to prevent it from shutting.

"don't be dramatic."

you whip open the door and he'd laugh at the pissed off scowl on your face if he knows he didn't fuck up today, if his building anxiety wasn't coming close to strangling him.

"dramatic?!" you squeak, stepping out of your room to push his chest harshly. he's surprised by your strength, stumbling back a few feet and then you're right in his face.

"you embarrassed me before and acted like a total fucking asshole!" you yell, not hearing the sound of your door shutting and instead intent on giving out to him.

“i don't know what your issue is with me in the first place! you were talking to me just fine an hour before and even gave me that really good blueberry muffin that i know was your favorite so how about you-"

"do you have your key card?"

your eyes narrow at his question.

"were you even listening to me?! you embarrassed me and i deserve an apology!"

"when would i have gotten the chance?"

"well you had the time to cut me off," you snap.

you hear him sigh as you put your hands on your hips, waiting expectantly for him to speak. but he doesn't, the both of you just standing in the dark hallway with only his phone as an eerie light. you can feel the hot anger in your eyes as he just so calmly stands there, looking at you like you're the one who intruded on him.

"you know what, fuck you, yeosang," you snap, "why'd you even knock my door."

you whip around, walking forward and fumbling around to find the doorknob. when your hand touches the cold metal, you sigh in relief and turn to open it. but your relief quickly turns to agitation and frustration because your fucking key is inside your locked room.

"no, no, no, no, no," you mumble under your breath, "no!" you smack the hard door, wincing as you shake out the pain in your hand. you hear yeosang hum behind you and you whip around, squinting your eyes at him and walking back up to him.

"this is your fault," you spit out, "why do you ruin everything. now i'm locked out and gonna get myself killed out here."

"yeah, because a power outage from the snowstorm is actually a murderer."

you really don't consider yourself a violent person, actually rather timid and shy in most circumstances. but his tone is so dry and biting you wanna hit him. just once.

"i wanna smack you," you say through clenched teeth.

"smack me all you want in my room."

"are you out of your mind," you spit, "i don't even wanna look at you, let alone be in the same room as you after what you did to me today."

"so you're just gonna stay out here in the dark?"

"yes," you snap, "so fuck off."

his eyes narrow before he grabs you roughly by the arm, dragging you towards his door and pushing it open. he still has you in his tight grasp when he slams his door closed, pulling you in further in towards the couch.

"what are you doing!" you yell, ripping your arm from is grasp, "get off of me, i don't wanna-"

"shut up and let me speak for a second!"

his loud, harsh voice echoes off the walls and it should probably scare you. but you're just so over him, matching or maybe even surpassing his level of anger.

"you've got problems," you spit back, the anger coursing through your veins giving you the confidence and courage to stick up for yourself, "you have some serious fucking anger problems you've gotta work out and i don't want any part of it!"

you shove passed him, shoulder bumping into him roughly and you know it probably hurts you more than him. but you can't even feel it, not with the adrenaline coursing through you and the hot tension radiating off you.

"i'm sorry," he says and the breathy way he says it causes your feet to halt in their movement. because he sounds genuine but also...almost panicked.

you don't turn around but hear him move closer until he's standing right behind you. "i'm sorry, i shouldn't have done that to you."

"no shit," you say, voice biting and cold despite feeling the need to listen carefully to his voice.

"can you please just...stay here," he sighs out when he sees you moving toward the door again, "until the lights come on, at least."

"why, are you scared of the dark?" you ask mockingly.

"yeah, actually," he says quietly, "but that's not why."

you turn around, peering over at him and roaming over his poorly lit face; even in the dark, he can feel you doing it, searching his face for the answers he constantly has to conceal.

"stop staring," he scolds and you let out a sigh.

"how'd you even know," you mumble, slowly maneuvering around the room until you feel a soft surface you conclude is the bed. you plop down, sitting with your legs in a pretzel position and staring off into the darkness.

"yeah, make yourself comfortable," he mumbles and something closely resembling a growl leaves your mouth causing a weak snort to leave him.

you watch as he fumbles around the room until you hear the clicking of a lighter, two small candles placed on the dresser now burning in front of the tv.

"where the hell did you get those," you wonder aloud because that's awfully convenient.

"they were in the room."

he turns around after lighting them, the soft glow illuminating his face and you wanna scowl at how handsome he is.

but it's upon further inspection you see there's also a lot of tension held in it.

he bites his lip, eyes flicking from the couch to the spot on the bed next to you before making the (correct) decision in sitting on the couch. you both just stare at each other blankly, your eyes expectant and on guard while his are just...blank.

the adrenaline and anger you felt from moments ago slowly starts to dissipate as it starts to sink in that you and him are currently trapped (but not really) in the same room. you shouldn't have given in so easily, shouldn't have let him manhandle you the way he did and fought back more when he screamed at you again; but now here you are, sitting on his bed and feeling yourself revert back to your stupid submissive self.

"are you really scared of the dark," you ask him and even from a few feet away, you hear a shaky exhale leave his mouth; he had forgotten he let that slip.

"yeah," he mumbles and you pout at the softness in his voice. you look up and see him hunched over with his elbows on his shaking legs, looking at a spot on the floor and you purse your lips to the side.

something tells you him being surrounded by the darkness is the reason for his anxious fidgeting.

"well, i'm scared of hamsters," you blurt out. and while you're luckily not surrounded by the creepy little rodents, maybe him knowing your fears will calm him in some strange way.

his eyes raise to yours and a crooked smile makes its way on his lips as a chuckle bubbles out of him.

"it's not funny!" you squeal but it only makes his laugh heartier, deep and genuine as it bounces off the warmly lite room.

"it's kind of funny," he muses and you resist the urge to smile at the softness in his tone. "what happened? were you bit or something?"

"not only once but twice," you tell him as you relive your childhood trauma. "my cousins had these two hamsters who i just always wanted to play with because i never had animals growing up. but they hated me, like i mean hated me, would definitely publically berate me and cause me to break a plant if they were human, and when i tried to pick them up once...they both nearly tore the skin off my finger with their sharp little teeth."

you look up and see his eyes on you, his leg slightly bouncing up and down. "what?" you squeak out. you has been trying to lighten the mood with your little snide comment.

"i shouldn't have done that to you," he says quietly, "i...don't hate you so i don't...i know i shouldn't do it."

you hear the immediate sorrow and pain in his voice, like he's truly questioning himself and something about it makes a light bulb go off in your brain, gives you the slightest feeling that maybe he's...damaged in someway.

it doesn't excuse his treatment towards you but you think there also has to be something in his past that made him this way.

because you see he could be good sometimes, still a wise ass and a bit of bitch but good. you see that his friends loves them, his classmates and teacher hold him in high regard and the way he helped you that night without a second thought.

but then he switches on and off without warning, like an abused animal who's wagging their tail one minute and then snapping at your face the next.

"then why did you?" you ask softly, cursing the soft, empathic heart your parents always say is one of your greatest assesses but also downfalls.

his head falls into his hands, running through his hair and you only watch silently as he struggles internally. because he still doesn't know, doesn't know why he continually, deliberately hurts you and yells at you, like your kindness and nativity infuriates him but then make him instantly feel regret and cause self hatred to bubble up inside of him.

unless that's why he does it. because he sees you're kind, knows you'll forgive him and it's just ingrained in him now to take advantage of peoples kindness. to also try and strip that away from them.

"i wish i could tell you, y/n," he tells you, voice strained and breathy, "i...i don't have any answer that doesn't make me sound like a complete asshole.

"well, we already knew that," you say sarcastically, not being able to hide the smirk on your face. he picks his head up to roll his eyes at you and a tiny smile makes its way on his face.

"don't make me regret accepting your apology," you then tell him, voice quiet but firm.

his eyes meet yours and you watch as his adams apples bobs nervously. "i'm warning you now, i will," he says before mumbling something to himself.

"what?"

"you're too nice to people who don't deserve it," he tells you, voice hard and firm but not menacing.

"and what, you don't deserve kindness?" you ask, your chest hurting because it's even more obvious now your assumption that he's been hurt is correct.

"obviously not," he hums and you purse your lips to the side in thought. just as you open your mouth to ask him why, a humorless chuckle leaves his mouth.

"my dad used to lock me in a closet."

your heart drops at the statement, eyes widening and breath catching in your throat because what the fuck. you were not at all expecting that.

"sometimes for days at a time," he tells you and his voice is so straight forward and detached, like he's telling you the weather conditions outside. "he started it off with beatings of course but physical trauma is easy to get used to. it's the mental trauma that fucks you and he knew that."

"yeosang, i-"

"if i was ever too...soft, that's the word he always used," he laughs out humorlessly, "if i ever cried, if i was ever smiling too much," he drones on and now his voice is getting more and more agitated and tight that tears start to build behind your eyes. "i cried all the fucking time and it would make him so mad."

"but there's nothing wrong-"

"i think he kept me in there for three days at one point but they usually blended together after i lost count." he tells you and you blink rapidly so you don't start crying; who does that to their own son?

"why are you telling me this?" you ask him quietly. because you feel like you're taking advantage of him, like he's in some state of ptsd and you have no right to be hearing this.

"so you understand why i'm so fucked up," he says and he finally looks you in the eye and you could burst into tears. because there's nothing, they're completely empty and it makes your heart ache. "so you understand you don't wanna be around someone like me, why you shouldn't be easily forgiving me."

"but you didn't do that," you tell him softly and your legs are itching to get up and walk over to him. "you didn't do anything wrong."

"i obviously did," he spits, "i was weak. and it eventually drove him away."

you wanna say thank god, wanna clap and jump for joy and throw a party in this very melancholy room that, that man is no longer in his life.

"you were weak for smiling and crying?" you ask softly, not being able to hold back the skepticism in your voice, "those are very normal things yeosang, things that-"

"and apparently i'm still weak," he says, ignoring your words and looking back at the floor, "because the second it happened, the second the pitch darkness came, i immediately needed to find-"

the lights suddenly flicker on and the words die in his throat, his neck snapping up at the ceiling before his eyes quickly start to roam around the room. his gaze moves to your face, scanning your sympathetic eyes and warm cheeks and it's like he's snapped out of trance with the lights now on. his stomach twists and a pounding forms in his temples when he realizes what he's just done, his stupid fear-stricken confessions.

you can see the exact moment that regret springs to his eyes, the revelation that he's no longer a little boy trapped in the dark but instead a bitter and jaded person in the face of someone he's been nothing but obnoxious too.

you knew he hadn't been meaning to spill all of that and now you're panicking because you don't know what to say and being able to see his figure clearly is making the silence deafening.

"one of the hamsters was named after me," you blurt out and he looks at you like you have five heads.

because after all of that, after he blurts out one of his many instances of real childhood trauma in an embarrassing and rare state of vulnerability, that's what you're saying?

"isn't that sick," you laugh out, "my cousin claimed it was in my honor but now that i think about it, it's actually fairly insulting."

you watch his chest heave in and out, looking at you like he doesn't know what to make of you now. doesn't know if you're gonna suddenly pounce on him and badger him for more information or use it against him as blackmail or publically announce it in the form of payback.

"what?" you ask but he just shakes his head, standing up on his slightly wobbly knees.

"you're...the most bizarre person i've ever met," he says, cautiously walking over to the bed and sitting down next to you. "that's....really what you're saying to me after i just-"

"told me something you obviously didn't want to?" you say quietly, looking up at him with wide, honest eyes and his eyes bore into yours with such an intensity it starts to make you nervous.

not like that's a hard thing to do, but more nervous than usual.

because had you misread everything wrong? did he actually just finally open up about his trauma and scars and distress just for you to talk about an evil hamster named in your honor?

"i'm...i'll be here to listen if that's what you want," you tell him honestly, "but i..you just didn't seem-"

his arms wrapping around you is the first thing to catch you off guard, strong and toned as he turns your body slightly to press you into him. you take a few strangled breaths, finally starting to register that he's hugging you right now when you then feel his head in the crook of your neck. his strangled breaths are hot on your skin, hair tickling your neck as his arms squeeze around you a little tighter.

you've been focusing so much on your breathing and your surprise and his warm skin on yours that you realize your arms are still dropped to the side. you cautiously bring them up and wrap them around him hesitantly, rubbing his back awkwardly causing him to chuckle into your skin.

"thank you," he mumbles, "i just...thank you." he pulls back just as suddenly as he crashed into you and scoots a few inches away from you. your flushed face meets his gaze, your body turned to look directly at him.

"we..don't have to discuss this ever again if you don't want too," you tell him, "but it..probably wouldn't hurt to talk to someone about that. like professionally-"

your words start to trail off when you see the rage cross his face, his body stiffening and you cringe outwardly. "please don't get mad," you beg, "i'm just...i can't hear you tell me something like that and not say it."

he shuts his eyes as he takes a shaky inhale, breathing out harshly and repeating a few times before his eyes pop open.

"okay."

it's not a lot and you don't know what part he's responding to but you're glad he wasn't mad; he didn't give in to his obvious anger and you reward him with a small smile. his eyes drop to your lips, his tongue peaking out to lick at his own and the tension between you starts to fizzle into something... completely different. something that's making you flushed and making your body hum in anticipation.

you hear the faint knocking on a door in the hallway but you're too entranced by his gaze to pay attention to it. his eyes are roaming every part of your face, your fingertips are nearly brushing and you don't think you were this close a moment ago.

"y/n..."

a harsh knock on yeosang's door has you two jumping apart, the heat on your cheeks nearly burning you as you swallow the nervous lump in your throat and watch him shake his head. he quickly gets up and away from you, popping his neck to the side anxiously as he walks to the door.

"have you heard anything in-"

seonghwa's voice and figure barreling through the room now has you jumping up from the bed quickly, nervousness unexpectedly flooding through you, like you were caught doing something bad; you think your intestines are twisting together with how quickly the knot formed in your stomach.

"y/n?" he says, eyebrows furrowed as he looks at you in disbelief. his eyes go from your face, to the bed, to yeosang, then back to you. "what are you doing here?"

you look in shock to yeosang standing a few feet behind seonghwa, your heart pounding because you don't know why you're feeling so guilty; you didn't do anything wrong.

"i...locked myself out my room."

his eyes squint ever so slightly, jaw clenching as his tongue licks the corner of his lip.

"i was texting you, i was...worried," he said, "i knocked on your door before but thought maybe you were sleeping."

you smile softly at him, taking a step closer to him and your heart lurches ever so slightly when he steps back. the hurt must be evident on your face because he lets out a harsh exhale.

"i'm sorry, i'm just...surprised seeing you in his room." and then his neck snaps back to his friend, "especially after the shit he pulled before."

"me and her already talked about it so maybe you should mind your business."

seonghwa head turns to the side challengingly and you quickly grab the back of his arm when you see him advancing toward him.

"it's okay, he apologized," you tell him softly, "i'm-i'm sorry you were worried."

he looks down at you, hesitance and a wary look in his eyes that has you holding back a frown on your face. you don't like the vibe in here and especially don't like when his gaze turns back to yeosang.

but the shorter boy is fearless and feisty and maybe a little pissed off he was interrupted.

"what's your problem, hwa? gonna try to beat my ass again?"

your hold on the boy's arm tightens when he tries to advance forward yeosang again.

"i think i probably should since you're a fucking liar."

"when did i lie?" yeosang spits, moving closer to seonghwa, "please enlighten me." you step around seonghwa to place yourself in the middle of them.

"stop," you say softly, moving your hand to his chest and reaching your arm out to stop yeosang in his path.

"you know when." seonghwa growls.

"no, i really don't think i do," yeosang says challenging, moving past your hand and attempting to step around you. seonghwa's eyes narrow and you know they're about to start something so you quickly drag the taller boy by the shirt over to the door.

"stop," seonghwa orders but you only continue to drag him.

"y/n," he growls but you only tighten your hold on him.

"i need to get an extra key card, come with me," you say, peaking your head back to throw yeosang a sympathetic gaze. you mouth the word 'bye' before shutting his door quietly.

"why were you with him," seonghwa spats as you two walk down the hallway, "why did you forgive him so easily."

your feet stop to look up at him, hurt swirling in your eyes at his tone; it appears when one of them is nice to you, the other just has to be mean.

"because i know he was sorry," you say softly, "why are you angry?"

you watch his jaw tick and lift your hand to rub your thumb over the twitching muscle, like you'll be able to wipe it off; but he rips his face away and you can't stop the hurt that swirls through you. you step back as your body retracts, your brows furrowing and mouth forming into a frown.

"now you're gonna be mean to me?" you ask and he lets out a shaky exhale at your quiet voice.

"i was worried when you weren't answering, i was waiting outside your door while you were in there with him," he says quietly and you lift your eyebrow because you don't understand why he sounds so...angry? upset? hurt? by it.

"he was apologizing to me," you squeak out, "why do you sound so upset? you're making a big deal out of nothing."

he rolls his eyes and you see him almost turn to walk away when he stops in his tracks. he looks over your face and lets out a sigh because your eyes are confused and innocent and you don't deserve to be blamed for his stupid feelings.

"you're right," he says, "i'm sorry."

"can we just get my key now?" you ask after a few moments of holding each other's gazes, "i'm sleepy."

he smiles softly at you, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear gently. "sure."

you two clumsily bump into one another with soft giggles and big yawns as you walk down the elevator, your head resting on his arm tiredly as you make your way down and stand in front of the front desk.

the staff are flustered after the mini power outage, explaining to the complaining guests on the phone that everything is okay now, so it takes them about 10 minutes to finally get to you and another 10 to get you a copy of your key.

"i'm sorry, i didn't know it'd take that long," you tell seonghwa as you wait for the elevator back up, "you seem tired."

"i'm fine, y/n," he says, patting the top of your head, "but try not to lock yourself again, okay?"

you roll your eyes at him, pushing him lightly and scurrying in the elevator quickly before pushing the close-door button. his mouth drops open in fake outrage at you trying to leave him down there alone, sticking his hand in and staring down at you with a stern look.

"not nice," he scolds and your cheeky smile quickly has his own breaking out on his face, a groan leaving his mouth as he turns away from you.

"what?" you whine.

"you're pretty," he mumbles, taking your face in his hands and squeezing it gently causing you to scrunch your nose.

"you can't just say stuff like that, seonghwa, " you breathe out, "i'm gonna have permanent heart palpitations."

"but you are," he says and the words are so soft spoken you know you really will have some sort of heart damage.

a small chuckle leaves his mouth at the pained look at your face. “and that makes two of us," he adds quietly, his thumb rubbing over your face gently until the elevator dings.

you breathe out shakily, shaking your head at him with a soft smile and teasing eyes as he removes his hold on your face. you walk out together and stop in the middle of the hallway where you both have to part ways.

"i'll see you tomorrow?" you ask, head turned to the side as you look up at him.

"tomorrow," he confirms, "need a walk down?"

you squint your eyes at him defensively, "i know i'm a damsel in distress but i think i can manage it."

another chuckle leaves his mouth, his hand running through your hair one last time before he nods his head. "night, little one."

"night, seonghwa," you say, waiting until he turns around for your face to crumble in a state of panic. because that fucking term will be the death of you.

or maybe it'll be your erratic heartbeat that kills you, overwhelmed by how much your life has been taken over by attractive boys and the little things they do for you.

because you nearly step on the clear to-go box of chocolate chip pancakes placed in front of your door, peering down to read the receipt still taped on the box.

order to room 390: kang yeosang.

(part 11)

#seonghwa #seonghwa angst #seonghwa fluff #ateez #ateez fluff #ateez angst #moodboard #seonghwa moodboard

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petri808 · 4 years

Text

Hauntober prompt Black cat

Inukag requested by @malditamigs

AU story. I seriously need to learn the meaning of keep it short xD. 1800 words. Hope it came out okay, I liked the idea lol.

There was only one night that Kagome had any chance of lifting the curse, or she’d have to wait another year for the opportunity. For decades she’d tried and failed, and at some point, had almost given up on being human again. A witch had cursed her to be a black cat saying she needed to understand love before she deserved to be human. Okay, she had to admit back then she treated men like toys, getting them to fall in love only to drop them and move on. But to be cursed for it?! That wasn’t fair at all!

She’d take any man just to break this curse! At first, she thought how hard could it be to get someone to love a cat? Humans loved cats as companions and pets, surely, she could parlay such affections into breaking her curse. She’d play the role, the ever-loving kitty, using her wiles on the man, and on Halloween once the sun set, she would transform into a human, praying that because they’d already cared for her as a cat, they would instantly fall in love with her as a human. But it never worked. One after the other, they would freak out and kick her out the door. Be gone witch!

But she wasn’t a witch! Kagome just wanted to be human, to love, to have a family and grow old with someone. It may have taken a few years of trial and error, but she got it now! She understood how important love really was and begged for a chance to prove herself. Because this time, Kagome was the one who’d fallen in love.

It had been a fluke that she’d met Inuyasha two days after Halloween and being kicked out of another home. She’d been wandering the streets when an early snowstorm hit the city and his house was the closest shelter she could find. He took pity on the scrawny black kitty, taking her inside, feeding her and warming her up by a fireplace. Handsome and adoring to animals, this man she’d come to learn was only half human, a product of a human mother and demon father. Rare in this world, but also shunned to some degree. So, animals became the man’s company.

Kagome wasn’t sure at what point her affections had crossed the line into romantic love, but she knew that’s what she was feeling. It didn’t bother her that he could have a brash personality or how his social skills were poorly developed, because she understood the pain of being different. As a young woman, her lavish and selfish attitude would have scoffed at such a person but having been forced to see the error of her ways, it broke her heart when other people treated him like a freak. So, for the entire year she was with Inuyasha, Kagome did what she could in her limited capacity to make sure he felt adored by someone or something. To know he was special and important to her, not just because she had an agenda, but because he deserved to be loved for who he was.

The afternoon of Halloween, Inuyasha had returned from work a little more sullen than usual. From what Kagome could gather, some teenagers on a construction site were teasing him about his appearance, especially his canine ears, asking if he stayed in costume all year. Stupid, but not the worst insult he’s probably ever had, it still brought him down. So, Kagome works her magic, immediately purring and rubbing along his legs, pawing at them and begging for affections to make him forget about those creeps. And Inuyasha obliges, instantly taking a long exhale and picking her up for cuddles.

“Thank goodness I have you,” he scratches behind her ears and under her chest as he holds her in his arms. “I think you’re the reason I didn’t kill those dumbasses today cause then who’d be home to take care of you?”

“Merow,” she mewls and purrs at his ministrations, offering a feline response to his venting. If only she could tell him with words just how much he meant to her. The man gives her a few more scratches behind the ear before putting her down and going about his routine. Feeding her, taking a shower, and dinner for himself.

Kagome was growing nervous, fidgeting as the sun slowly set, because soon enough, Inuyasha was about to get the surprise of his life and her world could come crashing down around her. It was very different this time for her. She paces back and forth next to the dinner table as Inuyasha eats, just watching the light outside dim away. The anxiety driving her crazy, but the wait pained her more than ever before. If Inuyasha reacts like all the others before him, well... this time Kagome really might just give up from a broken heart.

Seeing his cat acting distressed, Inuyasha picks her up and places her on his lap. “What’s wrong?” She stands up and puts her paws on his chest, forcefully rubbing her face against his chin. “Aww, you really want attention today, huh,” he chuckles and snuggles her back, scratching her back and near her tail.

The familiar tingles start racing through her body, the signal that her transformation was imminent. So, Kagome tries to jump off, but he holds her down, preferring to cuddle. She tries a second time, struggling against him in concern of changing right on his lap!

“Kuro, first you’re all love me, now you want down?” He laughs, “typical feline.” She stops struggling and looks up at him, their eyes meeting. It was too late now. So, she stands up again, stretching as far as she can to wrap her paws around his neck. “Awww,” he hugs her, “that’s my girl.”

The transformation begins in a flash of light. “What the?!” Inuyasha shouts, but Kagome grips tighter to his neck. “K-Kuro?! Kuro what’s going on?!” He was about to find out as he watches with shock and awe as his sleek little black kitty changes right before his eyes, elongating, her feline features turning human. Her whines and cries from the pain torture his ears. They pin back as he gives up trying to understand, closing his eyes to the light and tightening the hold he’d had over her growing body.

Several moments pass by until finally... silence and a much heavier weight on Inuyasha’s lap causes him to release his hold. Kagome leans back slowly, her hands still around his neck, staring forward with trepidation to gauge his reaction. “I-I know this is a shock.” Her voice soft and tenuous on the verge of tears.

But all he can do was stare at her, processing the fact that his cat wasn’t a cat anymore but a beautiful woman with raven colored hair just like the fur he was used to seeing. Her yellow eyes were a chocolatey brown now, large and doe-like, with such porcelain white skin... holy shit! He had a naked woman on his lap! Her scent was interestingly still the same, just heightened and mixed with such pain and fear, his inner demon growled in annoyance. It didn’t like her feeling that way.

“Please, say something,” Kagome worries her bottom lip. The silence was killing her, and she couldn’t gauge his thoughts. ‘He’s in shock. Any second now he’s gonna bounce me off his lap and tell me to leave. I know it, it’s just like the other times.’ “I’m sorry,” tears quickly trickling down her cheeks, “this must be... maybe I should just leave...”

“What?! No, way, you— I’m not!” He stops and takes a deep breath to calm his own adrenaline, picking Kagome up and bringing them to the couch. He then pulls the throw blanket off the back of the couch, wraps it around and takes a seat beside her. “Tell me, who are you really?”

Kagome let’s out an exhale and tells her story from start to finish, tentatively at first but as the words flowed, so too, did the emotions tied to her journey of pain and understanding. It was like a cork being popped on a bottle of alcohol. She didn’t hold back anything seeing as she’d finally had an opportunity to tell her tale. By the end her cheeks were red and eyes puffy from crying, but a weight felt lifted off her shoulders. This was the longest conversation she’d held with another human in fifty years. “So, that’s everything,” her words dying out in a wisp. Though her tears had slowed they continued to trickle. “I’m sure it must all be overwhelming, a-and I’ll understand if you tell me to leave too.”

That’s when it was Inuyasha’s turn to surprise her. He reaches out and cradles her face in his hand and wipes away some of the tears. “I don’t want you to leave Kur—Kagome,” eyes softening. “You’re still my girl, even if... ehm, not in the same form. I’m not exactly complaining about it by the way.” The statement causes her to blush something fierce and her eyes avert away in embarrassment. “I mean, you’ve made me so happy this year, I think more so than any other time in my life. Cat or not, that was all you, right? Not some trick if your honest tears are telling me anything.”

“It’s not a trick. I think— know I’ve fallen in love with you Inuyasha.”

A second burst of light suddenly catches them off guard and Kagome’s body starts to glow.

“What’s going on?!”

“I don’t know! I don’t usually turn back till morning...”

But as quickly as it hit, the light dies away leaving her in the same human body. “Oh, my goodness...” Kagome looks to a confused Inuyasha, “I-I think it’s broken. Does that mean, you love me too?”

His eyes widen, “um, I mean I do like what I see, but I don’t know if I can say love yet.”

“But,” she looks at herself in confusion, “the witch said only love can break the curse and I assumed she meant the guy had to fall in love with me.”

“Based on what you told me, maybe it was you who had to feel real love.”

The sudden realization dawns on Kagome. It was true. All the others... she’d never loved them, only resigned herself to be stuck with whoever loved her to break the curse. This has always been a lesson for her to figure out. Fresh tears break free, so Inuyasha wipes them away, letting his thumb sweep along her skin. He’d been honest with her that he couldn’t use the word love yet but knowing how much this woman truly cared for him was certainly enough to let it enter a heart he’d walled off to love. He runs his thumb over her lips, then sweeps in, kissing her and letting his hand weave into her hair to test this newfound possibility. Needless to say, his inner demon was delighted.

“This is gonna take some adjustments, but so far I’m liking it,” he smiles. “I will miss how you greet me when I come home rubbing against my legs.”

Kagome bursts into tearful giggles. “I think that can still be arranged.”

#hauntober #inukag #black cat prompt #inuyasha #Kagome higurashi #inukag fan fic #inukag fan fiction #witch curse #black cats

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