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hopelesshawks · 3 years

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History of Us Part 35- The Storm

Summary: Once upon a time Todoroki and (y/n) were best friends. Now they haven’t spoken in years. When (y/n) is forced to transfer to UA, will she and Shoto reconnect or will their troubled past keep them apart? A childhood friends to enemies to lovers hybrid fic.

If you don’t want to see History of Us content blacklist #hopelesshou

Masterlist Kofi

The plan, both that of the reunion squad and that of the pro heroes, goes to shit almost immediately. Your father is a smart man and the compound reflects that. Almost immediately upon breaching the entrance, the pros realized that the information they had on the building’s floor plan was incorrect. They were also wrong about the compound solely being occupied by you, Dabi, and your father. Several lower level villains have been kept on retainer precisely in case of a situation like this. Not only had Shoto and the others not been able to sneak past the pros to try and find you but the pros had actively requested their help as things rapidly devolved.

Then your father finally made his appearance in dramatic fashion, and that’s when things really went downhill. Literally half the compound was blown sky high as your father released a massive flurry of shadows racing out to push back the heroes. Several of the pros on scene are immediately knocked out of commission, leaving the smaller villains to run into the city and cause trouble. Tamaki is one of the first to recover, quickly organizing some of the remaining heroes and sidekicks into squads to track down the villains now racing towards the more densely populated commercial area nearby. “I’m trusting you to handle Black Storm,” he tells Endeavor. The older man only gives him a nod before Tamaki is off to try and minimize the damage being done.

Shoto starts to worry as he realizes he still hasn’t seen you but before he can begin searching properly a familiar voice stops him in his tracks. “There you are little brother, I was worried you might not show,” Touya grins. Shoto’s eyes narrow at his brother, his quirk itching to be released as he stares him down. “Where’s (y/n)?” Shoto all but growls. “You sure she even wants you to find her?” Dabi teases, his amusement at the situation palpable. “Absolutely,” Shoto replies without even a hint of hesitation or doubt. “Tell you what, prove you really are dad’s perfect little experiment and beat me. If you can do that much I’ll lead you right to her. I’d hurry if I were you too, her daddy dearest didn’t take too kindly to finding heroes at our door and poor (y/n) is his favorite punching bag,” Dabi grins. “With pleasure,” Shoto growls before lunging forward.

This is a disaster. You’ve managed to only bump into one sidekick who’d made it deeper into the remains of the compound but even that small fight had been enough to aggravate your injuries. Your vision swims as you rush towards the sound of the fighting. You know your dad’s been using quirk enhancing drugs lately and the pros aren’t prepared for that kind of firepower. You want nothing more than to just sit down, close your eyes, and try to heal yourself, maybe even take a nap, but there’s no time. You’re the only one who can stop your dad now. You know it in your gut. So you push through the pain and the slight dizziness to keep moving. You’re nearly knocked off your feet as a series of explosions shakes the compound, followed by an all too familiar battle cry of “DIE!” Fear surges through your veins like ice. You’d recognize Bakugo’s voice anywhere and even if you couldn’t there’s not exactly a ton of explosive heroes who threaten to murder villains out there. Bakugo would never come alone, which means more of your friends are surely in the fray and in danger. You grit your teeth, focusing on them and your determination to save them, and start running towards the commotion glowing only faintly but enough to hold you together.

Shoto has never fought this hard his entire life. He lands hard on his side but quickly rolls to recover and get back on his feet. He throws up a wall of ice, partly to slow Dabi’s progress as he comes surging towards him, but partially to stave off the after effects from using his left side so much. Sweat pours off his forehead as he desperately tries to hold off from overheating. As Dabi burns through his ice, Shoto launches himself forward to meet his brother halfway. He’ll be damned if he loses this fight. He has to get to you, especially if what Dabi said about your condition is the truth. For a single moment Shoto manages to pin Touya down but before he can do anything more he notices Dabi’s gaze is focused not on him but something off to the side. “Your girlfriend finally joined the fray,” Dabi grins, causing Shoto to immediately snap his head that direction to find you. Relief floods him at seeing you alive but he’s snapped back into the moment as Dabi suddenly engulfs the two of them in flames, causing Shoto to rear back with a curse. “Don’t get distracted baby brother, this fight isn’t over,” Dabi taunts as he uses Shoto’s momentary distraction to get the upper hand. Fire and ice both emerge as Shoto is filled with another wave of determination. He’s so close to getting you back, he won’t let you slip through his fingers again.

The chaos is even worse than you thought when you finally get to where all the fighting is. All around you your friends and various pros are battling villains. Buildings further down the street are burning where Tamaki is trying to keep the villains contained to a smaller area. To your right Shoto is locked in combat with Dabi and frankly it takes your breath away. Shoto is magnificent. You’ve never seen him look so resolute before and you distantly wonder if that’s the real reason Dabi exposed your location: to see this side of his younger brother. You probably could have stood there just watching the two of them forever but a loud crashing noise to your left jerks your attention away as you watch Endeavor hit the ground hard after your father had thrown him. Your stomach sinks when you notice what rough shape he’s in. You knew this would happen the moment you found out your father was using quirk enhancers but it’s still unnerving to see the number one hero struggle so much. You look up to see your father grinning like a mad man, clearly delighting in the pain of a man he once claimed to love like family. More importantly, however, you also can see the characteristic black veins crawling up the side of his neck. Steroids or not, your quirk still comes with a price. Your father is just about to deal what looks suspiciously like a fatal blow as he gathers a large mass of shadows into both hands but before they can reach Endeavor you jump in front of the fallen hero and unleash your own blast of shadows to dissipate your father’s.

You think you hear Endeavor say something behind you but the words fall on deaf ears as you watch your father’s face twist into a grimace of betrayal and rage. “I should’ve known you’d choose them,” he spits before unleashing another torrent of inky blackness shooting towards you. You widen your stance to brace yourself and then unleash your own torrent back with your right hand, using your free hand to brace it. “After all I did for you, this is how you repay me? You traitorous bitch,” he accuses, his voice roaring over the sounds of battle around you. Rage burns through you at his words and you embrace it wholeheartedly as you continue to push back against him. “All you did was abuse and traumatize me,” you bite out. Your head is throbbing but you can’t let up, not now, not when you’re so close to ridding yourself of your father for good. “I did it to make you stronger! You could’ve been the most powerful person in all of Japan, we could’ve built an empire together!” he responds, as if somehow that justifies how he’s treated you; as if that empire wouldn’t be built atop the corpses of innocents. “I am strong. Stronger than you. In spite of you, not because of you,” you shout.

After that final declaration, you’re done talking. Instead you close your eyes, grit your teeth, and you think of every single time your father abused you, every time you lashed out at those you loved because of the trauma he ingrained in you, every time you suffered because of his crimes. You think of your poor mother who works double and triple shifts so she can provide for you. You think of that fateful day your father brought you into work and traumatized you out of his own selfish desire to mold you into what he wanted you to be. You think of all of the pain and hurt and anger and you pour it into your quirk even as black veins start to crawl up on your own skin, even as they climb up your forearm, then your shoulder, then your neck, and onto the right side of your face. Your entire right side feels like it’s on fire but you push and push through until you finally start to feel the resistance from your father giving way as his quirk overwhelms him. You hear yelling and it takes a minute to realize that the raw, pained sound is coming from you as you push and push and push until finally you feel the resistance fade completely and the shadows you’d sent out connect with your father. You gasp as you finally release your quirk although you notice the right side of your body is still on fire. Your head feels fuzzy and your vision is definitely swimming but you push through it. You have to make sure it’s over. Your father sways on his feet, eyes empty and black veins completely marring his face. After a moment his body collapses to the ground completely limp and relief floods through you.

It’s over.

It’s finally fucking over.

As the adrenaline slowly starts to drain out of you, you hear someone call out your name. They sound panicked. Why do they sound panicked? You turn to the source of the voice slowly as the world starts to spin around you. You vaguely recognize Shoto’s alarmed face as he sprints towards you before everything goes black and you collapse.

A/N: This took me literally all of yesterday to write and was difficult to start but holy shit am I happy with how it turned out. We’re entering the home stretch ladies and gentlemen.

Taglist: @sorrythatspussynal @miss-bakugo-writes @pixelwisp @larkspyrr @sokkaandzukosimp @akkaso @sunaispretty @shot0stea @todoplusultra @oliviasslut @lapysllazuly @immah0e4fictionalmen @cinnamonruts

(Bold means I couldn’t tag you)

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grailfinders · 3 years

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Fate and Phantasms #162

Today on Fate and Phantasms we’re making the woman who brought down the sun, Chacha! Chacha’s a Zeal Cleric to bring out the skeletons of the Toyotomi, as well as a Pyromancer Sorcerer to set the proper mood lighting with the hellfire that constantly burns within her.

Check out her build breakdown below the cut, or her character sheet over here!

Next up: Alter ego? I barely even know ‘er ego!

Race and Background

Chacha’s Human. Not really much to say to justify that, but it gives you +1 to all abilities.

Your experience in the court of one of the most powerful men in Japan gives you the Courtier background, giving you proficiency with Insight and Persuasion. You’re kind of a kid right now, so shoot people the puppy dog eyes and they’ll be butter in your hands faster than you can flutter your lashes.

Ability Scores

Continuing from that last sentence, max out your Charisma. God knows you’ll need it if you want to get that bread. Second is your Dexterity- you’re a rambunctious little rugrat. Third highest is your Constitution, you’re tough enough to deal with constantly being on fire, but we won’t be getting much of that from two spellcasting classes. Your Wisdom isn’t great, but it’s a lot better than most berserkers- your madness enhancement is only E rank. Also we need it for multiclassing. Your Strength isn’t great, you did get summoned as a child, after all. That leaves your Intelligence to dump. Again, Chacha’s a child here, and she definitely strikes me as a “leap before you look” kinda person.

Class Levels

1. Sorcerer 1: The skeletons are what you do, but being on fire is what you are, so we’re starting with Pyromancy. (It also doesn’t hurt that starting with sorcerer gives you proficiency with Constitution and Charisma saves, plus Religion and Deception. She snuck into being the big bad of a whole event, I’m counting it.)

Being a sorcerer gives you Spells you can cast using your Charisma, as well as a Heart of Fire. When you cast a fire-dealing spell that isn’t a cantrip, you shoot fire out of your body in a 10′ radius around you, dealing damage to creatures you choose equal to half your sorcerer level (minimum 1, so it isn’t useless this level).

Speaking of spells, you get some! Prestidigitation lets you fit whatever fits into your hand for six seconds. There’s also other uses, but this is one of the closest things you’ll get to Golden Rule, so we’re using it for free stuff. You also get Sword Burst to shove swords in people, Green-Flame Blade for when you want to do it yourself, and Fire Bolt because we kind of got a theme going.

For first level spells, Burning Hands will activate your Heart of fire, and Mage Armor will help you not die. You die last, make sure it stays that way.

2. Cleric 1: Multiclassing into a Zeal cleric gives you proficiency with all sorts of armors and weapons, so if you want to slap on a mask and get in up close and personal with your foes, now you can. You also get another set of Spells, which you cast and prepare with your Wisdom. You also become a Priest of Zeal, so you can attack as a bonus action after attacking with your main action Wisdom Modifier times per long rest.

You’ll get plenty of use out of your specialty spells Searing and Thunderous Smite, but you can also use Bane to weaken your enemies. You also get more cantrips! Thaumaturgy is a great distraction when you have to get out of a punishment, or you could use Sacred Flame in a fight! Otherwise, you can use Light to see in the dark with your dumb human eyes.

3. Cleric 2: Second level clerics can use their Channel Divinity options once per short rest, either Turning Undead like normal or engaging their Consuming Fervor when they deal Fire or Thunder damage to deal the max amount possible instead of rolling. You can probably sense a theme in this build by now.

4. Cleric 3: Third level zeal clerics can make Magic Weapons or Shatter their enemies with second level spell slots. Magic Weapon’s much more in-character for you, but I’d certainly not turn down free explosives.

5. Cleric 4: Use your first Ability Score Improvement to grab the Magic initiate feat. This lets us pick up Bane once per long rest without having to become a bard, and you also get Friends and Vicious Mockery to add a bit of magic to your social cantrips.

On top of that, you still get one more cleric cantrip. Toll the dead is certainly appropriate thematically.

6. Cleric 5: Fifth level clerics can now Destroy Undead of CR 1/2 or lower when they turn undead, but more importantly they get third level spells. Haste and Fireball are both great picks, but we’re here especially for Animate Dead to make some skeletons. What a lovely family reunion!

7. Sorcerer 2: Now that we’ve got the rest of the Toyotomi clan backing you up, we can refocus on that hellfire. Second level sorcerers are Fonts of Magic, giving you sorcery points equal to your sorcerer level each long rest that you can spend on spell slots. There’s other stuff later, but for now you get slightly more spell slots.

You can also use those big-ol’ puppy dog eyes to Charm Person, forcing a wisdom save to charm someone for up to an hour.

8. Sorcerer 3: Your metamagic lets you enhnace your spells by using sorcery points. Your Heightened spells impose disadvantage on one target’s saves, and your Extended spells have a doubled duration.

Flame Blade technically isn’t a sorcerer spell unless you like Unearthed Arcana, but it’s fitting enough that we might as well chance it. It makes a flaming sword that uses your casting modifier to attack and lasts 10 minutes or until your concentration runs out.

9. Sorcerer 4: Use this ASI to bump up your Dexterity for a higher AC and your Wisdom for more attacks and better cleric spells.

You also get Create Bonfire and Aganazzar’s Scorcher for more fire. Again, kind of a theme here.

10. Sorcerer 5: Fifth level sorcerers can spend sorcery points on Magical Guidance to re-roll failed skill checks. You’re kind of a big deal, you don’t have time to do things badly.

You also get another UA spell, Flame Stride. Speed yourself up by 20 feet, avoid opportunity attacks, and deal fire damage to nearby creatures. Perfect for when you’re tearing a path through Chaldea.

11. Sorcerer 6: Sixth level pyromancers come packed with Fire in the Veins, giving you resistance to fire damage and now your fire spells ignore resistance.

You also get the spell Incite Greed. You might not be able to conjure gold like the other Golden Rule users, but it looks like you’re really rich, and that’s the important part here. This spell forces a wisdom save on any number of creatures within range, and if they fail all they can do until they break free is follow you around and stare at the gem you’re holding.

12. Sorcerer 7: Your brand new fourth level slots help you induce Confusion on your enemies. Probably your enemies. Seriously, avoid hitting your friends with it.

13. Sorcerer 8: Use this ASI to bump up your Charisma for stronger spells. You also learn Wall of Fire for more fire. Again, we’ve got a theme to work with here.

14. Sorcerer 9: Immolation is more fire, but it’s also more your speed than a wall. Set someone on fire to deal 7d6 fire damage or half on a successful dex save. On a failed save they also stay on fire for up to a minute, until you lose concentration, or they pass another dex save. Also, if this spell kills someone, they turn to ash.

15. Sorcerer 10: For your third metamagic option, go for Empowered spell to deal more damage when you’re out of divinity to channel. Since we’re not going barbarian, grab Blade Ward for a bit of that berserker toughness, as well as Creation to buy up whatever you might need at a moment’s notice.

16. Sorcerer 11: Investiture of Flame gives you yet another way to set yourself on fire, making you immune to fire damage, resist cold damage, deal fire damage to nearby creatures, and you can spend an action to shoot fire for up to 10 minutes.

17. Sorcerer 12: Use your last ASI to max out your Charisma for the hottest flames possible.

18. Sorcerer 13: Your seventh level spell is Fire Storm, creating flames that cover 10 10 foot cubes within range, dealing fire damage and setting objects on fire. More fire! Never enough fire.

19. Sorcerer 14: Fourteenth level pyromancers get Pyromancer’s Fury, letting you spend your reaction to deal fire damage to a creature when they hit you with a melee attack, ignoring resistances. More fire! Always more fire.

20. Sorcerer 15: To commemorate that time you destroyed your entire family and brought them to ruin, grab Sunburst as your eighth level spell to burst that sun and deal radiant damage to creatures in a 60′ radius and possibly even blind them.

Pros:

You’re really good with Fire, and thanks to your pyromancer features the fact that fire is a common resistance isn’t quite as big a deal for you as it could be. Being able to max out your fire damage also means you can deal big hits once per short rest.

Aside from raw damage, you’re also good at weakening enemies thanks to your high charisma and heightened metamagic.

Since you’re shouldering the dps burden, that leaves your skeleton army available to basically be a shield between you and whatever it is you’re killing, making it much harder for barbarians and the like to flatten you like a pancake.

Cons:

Oh yeah, barbarians can flatten you like a pancake. You have barely over 100 HP and an AC of 16, you’re not hard to take down if someone can survive your opening barrage.

Most of your spells aren’t very selective. Your party might give you a hard time for friendly fire, and you’re probably going to end up killing your skeleton family. Again. Sorry.

Quite a few of your spells require concentration, meaning you’ll have to pick and choose what you’re doing at any one time. It also means you might waste a spell slot if someone slaps you too hard after you immolate someone else. It’s an occupational hazard.

#fate grand order #FGO #chacha #D&D 5e #DND #Cleric #Sorcerer

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danger-xylophones · 4 years

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Family Reunion (Darth Maul x Reader) Pt. 1: Wild and a Quest

I had this idea and I thought it was fucking interesting and I wanted to write it

This will be in multiple parts as I made this first installment hecka long. Maul will soon be more heavily featured but for now, I just had to establish some stuff.

Story summary: Reader reunites with Maul for the first time in twelve years and...the ex-sith lord gets a strange surprise.

Warnings: canon-typical violence, slow start

Notes: Female pronouns, an OC child

Current read, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5

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The roar of the ship as it took off was deafening despite you being housed in the cockpit. Instinctively, you reached up to cover your ears and closed your eyes as gravity shifted. You couldn’t wait to be in the vacuum of space; at least then gravity wouldn’t even exist. A gentle pat on your forearm was enough to make you open your eyes and look to the side. To your right was Wild, an eleven-year-old zabrak-human hybrid, the last piece of evidence you had of your life before all this. He was the symbol of your union with him. Wild was your son.

The carmine-colored, half-dathomirian, barely-tattooed boy was looking up at you with sympathetic saffron eyes, he knew of your deep-rooted hatred for liftoff. Gently, you smiled at the boy to ease his worry and offered a soft pat on his head, careful to avoid the tiny horns protruding from his skull. Wild didn’t return it and instead opted to grab your hand off of his head to hold it in his own before focusing on the viewport. You deflated at that as your heart suddenly ached.

Wild was so much like his father that it hurt you sometimes, not only in looks though (although he was practically his carbon copy) but in personality; proud, serious, and protective with a cunning unrivaled by anyone else on the outside but a soft-spoken, gentle, curious and sometimes anxious boy inside. It was hard to remember that he was eleven sometimes-not the adult he pretended to be and not your little baby boy that used to cling to your leg all day. You just wanted him to be a little boy who was free to dream, explore, and play as he pleased but it seemed the force would not grant you your one wish. Instead, it took his father away from you before he had even got the chance to know of the remarkable gift he’d given you. You did suppose that Wild’s predisposed traits that bound him so tightly to the father he’d never known were a blessing in disguise. It had always served as reassurance that if anything ever happened to take you away from Wild, he’d be fine on his own.

...His own. It was a thought you never liked to dwell on. Wild was born at a delicate time in your life. You were 21 when you learned you were pregnant with the baby of a sith-lord and the news had been...startling to say the least. It had occurred to you one day while you were preparing to face the Trials that your cycle had been off. Deeming it odd enough to warrant a visit to the medbay, you sought out one of the healers. You’d instantly wished that you had chosen a droid instead as it was soon revealed that you were two months pregnant. You had to feign ignorance about knowing of a father at all. It had worked for a time as the issue was immediately brought before the council who were all in various states of shock. The worst reaction, you remembered, was that of your master. But, the council did not kick you out like you were certain they would have had they known of the baby’s heritage. Instead, the council believed your lie-that there was no father. Of course, they believed it. You were Ki-Adi-Mundi’s apprentice, chosen specifically by him due to your, as he phrased it, “natural and strong alignment with the light side”. You were a model padawan who would never even think of breaking the code, let alone to this extent. Your training was put on hold for the time being as the council awaited the birth of your baby, some Jedi even began to wonder if the child would be the prophesied ‘chosen one’ (though Qui-Gon, most notably, believed otherwise). It was then that you knew that your time with the Jedi was up. You formulated a plan. Qui-Gon Jinn and his apprentice, Obi-Wan Kenobi, were being sent on a mission to Naboo to protect the queen.

You begged your master to let you go with them as you had been cooped up in the temple for a whole month after the pregnancy announcement. Your master obliged, certain that no harm would come to you on the mission, and you were swift to join the grey Jedi and his stuck-up padawan. Your plan from there was to land on Naboo’s surface and disappear for a bit to get the Jedi off your back and to get in contact with him again. But, of course, that all went downhill and...you had seen your love be cut down by your fellow padawan. He wasn’t supposed to be there to your knowledge and now he was dead and you were still carrying his baby. Obi-Wan was swift to pick up on your anguish and even swifter to alert the council of your lies and treachery against the Order. You were ejected from the order and locked away in the temple prison to await the birth of your baby whereupon the Jedi would tear him away from you indefinitely. It would have been a fate worse than death for you. That is, had you not escaped and faked your death to get the Jedi off your back.

Wild came soon after, being borne to a disgraced and presumed dead mother and a most definitely dead sith-lord father. Yet, you had done your very best to love him in every possible way as he had no other family besides you.

It seemed that this was something your son was acutely aware of too as the young boy was fiercely protective of you just as you were protective of him. Case in point: the only other person in the room that could pose a threat-Wild’s own uncle, Saváge Opress.

The seven-foot walking mountain of a zabrak had found you and your son on Tatooine whilst during one of your rare visits to the desert world. Your first meeting wasn’t pleasant.

“You, woman, what is your name?” The low bass voice sounding from behind you would have been enough to make you run if not for the fact that your son was still in the store you had just left. Slowly, you moved your hand to one of your sabers concealed within the confines of your cloak before turning around.

“Give me your name, dathomirian,” You spat at the goldenrod zabrak despite the fact he towered over you and could probably crush your skull with one hand, “and maybe I will give you mine.”

He snarled, clearly displeased with the response but relented. “My name is Savage Opress.”

You analyzed him for a moment, eyes raking up and down his form. He was big and strong and going by the saber hilt hooked on his belt, trained in the force. Was he a Jedi? Was he a sith? Had he been sent here to kill you? He was in for a surprise if he had. “Why are you speaking to me, Opress?”

“You told me you would give me your name.” Savage growled, large hand landing on his saber.

“No, I said that maybe I would.” You removed your lightsaber from your belt but ensured you kept it hidden from view.

“I don’t have time for your games, woman.”

“That makes two of us, good day, sir.” You hissed and turned to walk away, intent on looping around and meeting up with Wild to get off this miserable planet. However, that wouldn’t happen right now as your ears soon met with the distinctive sound of a lightsaber igniting. With an agitated sigh, you whipped out your own weapon and spun around just in time to meet your attacker; green blade clashing with red. Sith. Most likely his master’s new apprentice.

Savage was strong, physically, but you could feel that he was weaker in the force than you. That would be your only hope; let the force guide you while he relies on his own physical prowess. You met the male zabrak strike for strike, each one threatening to knock you off your feet with the force Savage fought with. The fight was grueling and you could feel the rustiness in each spin and block-you only ever used your lightsaber when training your son-and as it went on, one thought became abundantly clear; you weren’t going to win like this. You had to figure out a way to make the mountain stand still. Thinking on your feet, you fell back before taking a running start at Savage. You feinted to the right and used the wall to boost yourself over the behemoth of a man, twirling as you went until you landed behind him and shot a well-aimed kick to the back of one of his knees. The move was meant to bring Savage down to your level so you could cut his head off but when the blow landed, nothing happened. Startled, you froze which would prove fatal.

Savage spun around and grabbed your ankle in one hand before roughly swinging you into the wall. The air was driven from your lungs as you felt your back connect with the sandstone of the building behind you. Savage released you, allowing you to crumple to the ground as you fought to breathe. You were granted little reprieve though as soon Savage was stooping down and roughly lifting you by your neck in one fist. Your feet kicked lamely at your attacker in your struggle for survival as your nails clawed at the back of Savage’s hand.

“I’ll ask one more time, what is your name?” Savage growled low in his throat and tightened his grip.

“Will you let me live?” You coughed out, looking Savage dead in the eyes which briefly reminded you of your son’s. Your son. You had to stay alive for him.

“Maybe, if you are who I am looking for.”

It seemed that that was as good a chance as any.

“Y/n, my name’s Y/n.” Savage’s necklace suddenly glowed an eerie blue and you were prompted to ask your next question. “Wha-What do you want with me?”

“I’m looking for someone-my brother. I was told that you knew him, jedi.”

Electing to ignore the incorrect title, you continued to talk. Maybe, if you lowered his guard, you could still make it out of this alive. “I know a lot of people but not a lot of them are zabraks.” Savage’s eye ridge quirked up in questioning. “But...if it’s who I think you’re looking for-he’s dead. Killed by Obi-Wan on Naboo twelve years ago.”

“That’s what I was told too-but I have cause to believe he is still alive and I was told that you would be the one to help me find him.”

No...impossible. “You’re....you’re a liar!” You screamed at the zabrak. “I watched him die! He’s dead-he won’t come back-he can’t come back no matter how much I-”

“Mom?!” A familiar pre-pubescent yet soft voice cut you off. Immediately your attention, as well as Savage’s, were on Wild who stood at the mouth of the alley with saffron eyes that blazed like molten lava. He had never looked more like his father than in that moment.

Savage looked at you, confusion and something else (regret maybe?) all over his goldenrod face. “Mo-?”

“Wild, run!” You cut Savage off and gathered enough strength to curl in on yourself and strike Savage in the face with both feet. The zabrak released you at once and you fell to the ground unceremoniously before summoning your lightsaber to you. Not wasting time, you ignited it and dove at Savage, ready to make him pay for his filthy lies. Savage was quick, though, and managed to block your blow with his own sword. However, what neither of you expected was for a second contender to join the match in the form of Savage’s nephew and your son wielding your old blue lightsaber. “Wild, I told you to run!”

“You also told me to never run from a fight!” The little boy shot back, pressing down with all the strength he had. Stubbornness. That was another trait inherited from his father and enhanced by your own strong will. With a roar, Savage launched both of you back, sending you to the ground and your son flying. You watched as his little body collided with the same wall you had been smacked against minutes ago and nearly lost it. Channeling all your anger, you reared on Savage and pushed him back with the strongest force push you could muster before immediately running over to your son. He had sat up and was clutching at the back of his head where you noticed a small cut. You were going to kill Savage; brother-in-law or not.

“Wild, when I tell you to ‘run’, think of it as a tactical retreat. And for the record, I told you to know when to run from a fight.” You reprimanded quickly as you picked your son up and ushered him behind you. The two of you began to back away as Savage struggled to his feet. The two of you were almost to the entrance of the alley when the zabrak got a hold of his senses.

“Y/n, wait, please.” Savage began, sheathing his lightsaber and holding out a hand to you in surrender. His yellow eyes flickered between your son and yourself, guilt prominent in his features. You found yourself pausing. “I know you do not believe me-”

“No, I don’t and frankly, you have given me no reason to. If...if Maul was alive, I would have found him.” You spat in anger at the arrogance of this zabrak. Did he think that you hadn’t searched? Did he think that you hadn’t cared for him? Did he not see the disproof standing behind you?

“But you did not have the magicks of Mother Talzin.” Savage’s voice was soft now as he tapped the talisman around his neck.

You were struck silent at that. He was of course correct-you hadn’t had the aid of his people. With a heavy sigh, you rose out of your defensive position and sheathed your lightsaber, much to the surprise of the two males. “Wild.” Your voice was soft, caring, and you could feel your progeny’s confusion as if it was your own. “Take everything to the ship. I’ll be there in a minute.” Wild hesitated for a moment and you expected to get some attitude later but for now, he just softly handed your second lightsaber to you and stalked off after sending a final glare at Savage.

“Alright, you have my attention, Savage. What do you need?” You asked in a steely voice.

“Everything you knew about my brother.”

From there, the three of you had begun your search. Savage had explained his story and you had explained yours (he was almost overjoyed to know that he had a nephew). However, you both agreed that, for now, you wouldn’t tell Wild who Maul actually was in relation to him. This meant that Wild didn’t know that Savage was his uncle which led to the current distrust you were witnessing now. You hated not telling Wild but you didn’t want to give him hope that his father was alive to then rip it away from him when Savage’s wild goose chase proved to be just that. Now, you were riding in a cargo ship on your way to the trash planet, Lotho Minor.

You had landed a few minutes ago after Savage took control of the ship and were now faced with a dilemma. Did you go with Savage or stay in the ship with your son?

“Wild,” Savage’s booming voice called the young boy’s attention to him, however resentfully, “Stay with the ship. Your mother and I will explore.”

“No.” Wild snapped immediately with a glare as his hand tightened around your own till his sharp nails started to dig into your skin. You sighed softly and turned to your son.

“Wild, I’ll be fine. Savage won’t hurt me. Protect the ship, sweetheart, we’ll be right back.” You placed a soothing hand on the side of his face. His little red face grew more grave. He didn’t trust Savage, plain and simple. You wrinkled your nose at him before placing a peck on his forehead and pulling him into a smothering hug. “You worry too much, little man.” The boy protested at the display and loosely pushed you away but you had done your job as Wild seemed much more on board with the idea. “We’ll be right back. Don’t let anyone else on board, got it?”

Wild sighed with an eye roll. “Yes, mother.” His tone was annoyed but, having raised the boy, you knew he was only exaggerating his feelings. You placed yet another peck on your son’s forehead and gently pinched his carmine cheek before striding over to Savage who had watched the whole interaction. Neither of you spoke until you were outside.

“You’re good with him.” Savage piped up suddenly, his low bass a welcomed contrast to the wind whipping through the heaps of garbage.

You were taken aback. For all the times Wild had been brought up in conversation with the older zabrak, your skill in parenting was never mentioned let alone complimented. “I should hope that I would be,” you began, uncertain where you were going with this, “I am his mother.”

Savage made a funny noise in the back of his throat that prompted you to look up at him. “I-I just meant that…you’re...different than the nightsisters. They...they didn’t care if they had a boy.” Ah, the nightsisters. The infamous clan of witches that had bought and traded your unofficial husband long ago and continued to do with Savage. You prompted Savage to elaborate as you two began to walk. “They cared if they had a girl as she would stay with their clan but...if it was a boy, he was sent to us to be subjected to the same fate as so many men before us.” Savage’s eyes were clouded in thought as he relieved what was probably some awful memory. “It’s strange to see a boy be cared for is all.”

“Dathomir sounds...awful. I can’t imagine what you went through, Savage.” You dared to lay a hand on his forearm, making the zabrak halt in his tracks. “But...but if Maul isn’t...but if Maul isn’t here to be found, you could have a place with us.” You smiled gently. “You are family, Savage. I see it and I’m sure Wild will see it as well.”

Savage’s other hand came up to rest on the hand on his arm. There was a genuine smile on his face, for once. “Thank you, Y/n.” With a dip of your head, you resumed your walk. “Y/n?” Only to be stopped by the questioning lilt in Savage’s voice. “I never asked, how did you and Maul ever meet?”

A wistful smile dared to dash across your face as your mind’s eye immediately conjured up the image of the stunning ruby red zabrak you’d come to love so dearly. “That, my dear brother, is quite the story...”

....………………………………

Next ->

#maul #clone wars #star wars #fanficiton #the clone wars #tcw #danger-xylophones #Family Reunion series

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andythane · 3 years

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HOLY WATER CANNOT HELP YOU NOW I’VE COME TO BURN YOUR KINGDOM DOWN

MAY 19TH, 2021. OUTSIDE OF LAFAYETTE, LOUISIANA. notes & tw: this is literally all just bloody, brutal violence of every kind. andy, along side wes and wyatt, gets revenge on the rogue’s responsible for attacking rowan in february. italics are flashbacks, ps. tw for very graphic murder, lots of blood, violence, gore (eye, specifically), stabbing, decapitation/dismemberment, tc ahead. please read at your own discretion, it’s a lot.

The first time he kills someone, he’s twenty years old. Four months after he’d been officially patched into the club, reconciled with Rowan, and started this new chapter of his life. He knew what the patch sewn to his cut meant -- He had grown up next to it, had seen his father come home at all hours of the night covered in blood with a smile on his face as he slapped his gun onto the kitchen table and happily declared he needed a beer. That being said, doing it yourself and hearing stories were so comically different it made his head spin.

Most of the ride, he’s quiet, staring out the window of the Wyatt’s jeep as they drive through the backroads. There’s not much conversation to be had once they’ve gone over the plan, all three men knowing exactly what they’re going to this warehouse for. It’s roughly a two hour car ride, giving Andy enough time to go mentally go over the weapons he’s brought with him -- The gun tucked into his cut, one tucked into the waistband of his pants, one strapped to his ankle; The knife tucked in his boot strap, the other in the sheath of his belt. He’s nothing if not prepared. Andy goes over their placement for the thousandth, unneeded time, thinking through every what if scenario he could find himself in. It’s not often that his paranoid nature actually becomes a benefit.

They know the layout of the building, where each of them will cover, and the amount of people that will be there -- But he likes to prepare for the worst and the best, knowing from experience that they’re likely going to meet a mixture of both. Andy’s planned and executed this kind of thing enough times to know how to go about it blindfolded. At this point, it’s just like riding a bike.

He wonders what Wes is thinking, if his mind drifts back to Jace asleep at home, unaware of the violence going on around him; If Wyatt is imagining Iris in her hospital bed three months ago, scared of the oxygen mask strapped to her face. All Andy can think of is Rowan, sobbing in his arms while struggling not to move and potentially injure herself further, tearfully telling him why she hadn’t shown up to dinner.

It’s been a while since he’s found himself in this kind of mindset, having hung up his metaphoric hat when it comes to hitman jobs in the last few years. After his time in prison, Andy knew he had to lay low -- Being on parole, and having a daughter to raise changed his priorities. While the money from his ‘freelancing’ had been nice, he and Rowan had enough saved to last them a lifetime, especially with his cut of the guns the club sold, and her salary. There was no need for it now, not like when they were struggling to pay rent and put Rowan through school. Though, he couldn’t deny the high that came with planning a job was one Andy didn’t know he desperately missed. It used to scare him, how exciting he found this -- The rush that came from a stake out, figuring out each detail all the way down to the small possibility, the thrill of actually pulling his gun and breaking through the door. Now he welcomes it like an old friend.

He always imagined it would be a fair fight -- Or at least, not like this. Whenever the thought came to mind, he pictured himself wrestling some bond villain looking guy, the two diving for the gun that had been cast aside. It was naive, childish even -- But he didn’t expect that he’d be pointing his gun at someone who couldn’t be much older than him, one who was sobbing through swollen eyes, pleading for his life. His father kept his hand’s firmly planted on the kid’s shoulder’s to keep him from squirming out of the rickety chair, acting like this was a prize for a job well done. This could easily have been me, Andy thinks. Had this job gone wrong, he has no doubt Cronus wouldn’t hesitate to put him into that chair, make an example out of his son. Only, it didn’t. It was nothing short of an absolute success.

His father says something, but Andy doesn’t hear it. Jason is somewhere in the background cheering him on. Andy’s heart is pounding in his ears, both hands holding tightly to his gun, fighting to conceal the fact that they’re shaking. The gun is pointed directly at the poor kid’s head, Cronus’ steady hands keeping him from getting away from his obvious fate. Andy glances to his father for a moment, the wild look in the man’s surely meant to be read as adrenaline fueled pride. This is Andy’s first job after being patched in, and he had proved himself thus far. Now he just needed to finish this. Andy wishes he had the strength to lift his arms just that much higher, and put a bullet in his father’s head.

In that moment, he thinks of Rowan; Part of him wishes he hadn’t, based on the way his jaw clenches and his chest constricts -- He doesn’t want her to ever know about the horrible things he’s going to do, the horrible thing he’s about to do. Rowan shouldn’t have to see him for what he really is, what he’ll grow up to be: A monster. The rational part of himself reminds him that she already knows, and she’s still waiting for him at home, ready to pull him into open arms once he passes through the front door.

He pulls the trigger.

The kid’s blood splatters across Andy’s face.

They move quietly, each taking different sections of the warehouse. Wes covers the open space where the guns lie, Wyatt takes the small offices turned into ‘bedrooms’, while Andy takes the conference turned war room. He knows this is only a piece of the Rogues puzzle, but it’s a step in the right direction. They don’t plan on leaving anyone behind to tell the others what happened -- The grizzly scene and blood splattered across the walls will paint the picture for them.

His back remains against the wall, pulling his gun from his cut as he moves quietly, the three men in the conference room too distracted by their own conversation to notice Andy slipped into the dimly lit room. He makes presence known by firing a bullet into one man’s -- His name is Sam, based on the conversation Andy heard before entering -- knee, which creates a flurry of action as everyone tries to dive for the guns on the table. It’s the obvious move, one that Andy had anticipated. His hand reaches for the underside of the table between the four men seconds after his gun first fires, sending the flimsy plastic table over, their guns scattered and out of reach.

Sam fits one of the descriptions Will gave him, of a shorter, stocky man, blacked out ink covering him aside from a poorly done mermaid tattoo covering his throat. The man across from Sam fits the bill, as well -- Blonde, long hair, scar across his cheek, entire right arm covered in blacked out tattoos. Jack, Andy’s memory recalls. The man in question tries to make a run for one of the guns, but Andy stops him with a bullet to the stomach. Enough to knock him down, but not enough to immediately kill him. He wants them alive for this, to feel the same terror and pain Rowan did that night. They’re not going to be lucky enough to get a bullet to the head first.

The third and final man is one Andy recognizes now that he’s face to face. His name is Danny, but he’d been called Tex during his time in the club. (The nickname was stupid then, and it’s stupid now, Andy thinks.) He had his ink blacked out and left town roughly ten years ago after screwing the club over. The surprise reunion is enough to catch Tex off guard, enough that he hesitates, eyes narrowing as he takes in the scene in front of them. Both Sam and Jack bleeding on the floor, the former clutching his leg and screaming to the third to Do something, you fucking idiot. So, he does. The man charges forward, managing to knock Andy to the ground given the fact that he’s got about a hundred pounds on him.

They struggle as Tex tries to wrestle the gun away from Andy, before it gets thrown to the side in the fight. Punches are thrown on both ends, a ringing settling in Andy’s ears after a particular blow to the side of his head, though it doesn’t deter him. Andy manages to roll them over, holding the other man down with knee pressing down on his throat. Tex claws, scratches, and hits Andy in an attempt to get out from under him, but the cut off of oxygen makes it more difficult. He gets a few good blows in, though -- There’s blood dribbling down Andy’s arms from scratches, bruises that have already begun to form. He doesn’t notice, too focused on keeping the man under him from getting out of his grip. His hands move to hold Tex’s head, Andy’s thumbs digging into the inner corners of his eyes, gouging them as deeply as he can manage.

He can’t help but wonder if the three men have realized this isn’t about killing them; It’s about watching them suffer.

The fact that Tyson is still breathing is enough to send Andy into a tailspin. He had hoped the spineless piece of shit had fucked off somewhere, given that he hadn’t made an appearance in his and Rowan’s life in quite some time. Andy’s attempts at optimism always seem to be met with harsh reality, though, one that consistently proves the obvious: It’s childish to try and see the best out of a situation like this. He knows this as he throws the man off his front porch, knowing he has to take care of this problem himself -- Restraining orders and the local cops just aren’t going to cut it. Not when he and Rowan have a fragile six month old daughter sleeping in a crib down the hall.

His downfall is the fact that he reacts, he doesn’t plan. Andy knows better. The reason he’s been so successful with the club is his commitment to discretion, detail, and planning. He analyzes that night over and over for the next three years from the comfort of his prison cell, imagining how he would have killed Tyson if he had taken the time to do it properly -- Instead of grabbing his baseball bat, and kicking the front door in. He would have made it last longer, Andy decided. Prolong his suffering, before letting him gain a shred of hope that he’d make it out alive — Before finally putting him in the ground. That being said, the satisfaction that comes from the look of pure fear on Tyson’s face the moment he sees Andy come through the door? Unmatched.

The mental image is one that never fails to bring him a swell of pride. He can still hear the sound of his bat crushing bone, feel the way his heart skipped a beat with each and every hit. It didn’t matter if there was blood flying, covering him in the evidence; The fact that he hadn’t been quiet in his entrance; The sound of distant sirens headed their way, after a loud, shrill scream rang out. All that mattered was crushing Tyson’s skull, ending the iron grip he’s had on Rowan’s life for the better half of a decade. He didn’t care what happened next, as long as his wife and daughter were able to live in a world where Tyson Grant didn’t.

He only regrets not being able to finish the job that night.

It occurs to him, as his foot comes stomping down on Sam’s already shot knee, that he hasn’t done anything like this since prison. He’s gone on runs, jobs, the works -- Hell, he even threatened to brain Will in his own home. Everything pales in comparison, though. In prison, they had to be more creative; Breaking bones, cutting off fingers, slitting throats before the guards showed up. It was all quick and dirty, done by hand. There was no choice in the matter -- If he wanted to finish out his sentence, see his wife and daughter, even have a chance of making it to the end of the week at all, Andy had to get rid of the other guy. The protection that came with being a Primordial didn’t go as far as one would hope. There’s a reason they used to refer to him as the Grim Reaper. Years later, and he’s made it clear that he hasn’t lost his touch.

This man doesn’t want to fucking die, though. The way he keeps clawing at Andy, yelling obscenities between each scream of pain. He makes proclamations about how he’s going to kill Andy, calling him every name in the book as he tries and fails to fight for his life. A hard kick to the head shuts him up for a moment, disorienting him enough before Sam musters up enough energy to stab Andy in the calf, almost successful in knocking him to the floor. Clearly, the man got a last surge of something, accompanied by a knife he hadn’t realized Sam had on him. This only provokes an annoyed grunt and eye roll from Andy. He stumbles down onto one knee from the surprise of the movement, a stab to the man’s arm with the knife from his boot strap gets Sam to let go. He does, going limp as his knife is stuck in Andy’s calf. It doesn’t stop him from continuing the effort though, within a moment Andy’s on top of his unconscious victim, stabbing him in the chest over and over again like he’s in a cheap horror movie.

In that moment, he loses himself -- Something snaps, taking him back to the night he’d gotten a call that Rowan was in the hospital, the way he so desperately pushed down all of the anger and rage that came with knowing she’d been hurt at the hands of these assholes. Everything he’s fought to hold at bay for the sake of his wife, the kids, his sobriety, the club -- It all bubbles to the surface now, when he’s not worrying about keeping the kids safe and Rowan above water. When all there is is this room, and him, and the people that have to pay for the crimes they’ve committed.

Every emotion he’s expertly avoided, every ounce of it boils over as he stabs the Rogue over and over until they’re both covered in blood. The need for vengeance for what they did, the way they turned Rowan’s life upside down and left her afraid to look over her shoulder; Guilt over the fact that Andy, yet again, couldn’t protect the person he holds so dearly; The power that comes with knowing these men are at his mercy, ready to beg for their lives in a last ditch effort to survive what’s coming next. It all hits him like a freight train, leaving him a little dizzy. Though, that may be from the hits he’s taken himself, blood he’s lost -- Andy doesn’t take the time to find out. Instead, he comes to once he realizes the man under him is long dead, having succumbed to the injuries inflicted after the first few stabs.

The revelation stuns Andy momentarily, as he tries to catch his breath. If there was any witness to this, they’d see how frenzied the moment had become, that there was far more pent of emotion attached to this than Andy initially realized. Eyes glance to the two men left -- Tex, having passed out, and Jack slumped against a wall trying to stay conscious, a string of profanities passing his lips in a hoarse voice. His attention turns to his hands after that, steady but covered in a mixture of Sam’s blood and his own. A blood soaked piece of hair falls forward and onto his cheek as Andy wipes his hands off on his shirt, a wave of frustration running through him. Of fucking course he’d get blood in his hair, and now -- More on his face. He makes a mental note to book an appointment for a haircut.

They cut the man’s fingers off one by one, moving slowly and deliberately. The man in question, Gerald, is tied to a chair in the kitchen of the prison, thanks to a guard that’s on the MC’s payroll. No one is going to give a second thought to the sound of muffled screams or a hacksaw from the locked up tool shed going missing for the night. Andy’s only been out of the hospital for a day at this point -- The guy he’s torturing, having been responsible for his brush with near-death. Gerald felt bold enough to go after Andy with a homemade shank, trying to get even for some issue he held with Cronus. It was laughable to him, considering Andy hated his father just as much as this sorry bastard.

Andy had hoped to make it through his sentence by keeping his head down (for the most part, at least) doing what he needed, sticking with the right crowd -- Club members who were serving life sentences. His name gained him respect, plenty of other inmates happy to keep an eye on Cronus’ boy, but the revenge he’s getting tonight is what gains him his reputation. He becomes the go-to for these kinds of things, the one his fellow club members call on to take care of problems they have behind bars. Rowan’s words ring in his head -- Do what you have to do to stay alive. Come back to me. Playing executioner for the club wasn’t his first choice, but if it’s what kept him safe and gets him home, so fucking be it. Plus, killing the man who had tried to murder him in the showers brought Andy plenty of satisfaction. What kind of person would he be if he let some jaded idiot get away with almost killing him, right?

First the fingers, then his hands, and so on and so forth -- Dismemberment isn’t something new, Andy himself has had to cut up a few bodies so they can get rid of the evidence before. Though, typically speaking, the person isn’t still alive as they do it. Watching this guy suffer was just icing on the cake. Each time Gerald passes out, they cauterize the wound and pull out the smelling salts to give him a fake sense of safety -- That now they’re done, eye for an eye, the message is sent. Only each time he’s lulled into a half-dazed security, they stuff the rag back in his mouth and cut off another limb. It was going to be a long night.

He finds himself with a moment where he can tend to the wound he’s gotten — It's not a particularly deep stab, but it hurts like a bitch and that stupid knife looks fucking dull once he pulls it out and can actually get a good look at it. Not wasting anytime, and to make sure he doesn’t lose too much blood, Andy works quickly. The last thing he needs is to pass out and run the risk of getting himself killed, or having to have Wes haul him out over his shoulder. He has to get creative for now, knowing they can’t exactly make a pit stop at the ER on the way back and he doesn’t want to call Rowan after, given the fact that they’re bringing one of the Rogues back with them to get information out of -- So he moves to rip off part of Sam’s torn pant leg so that he can get pressure on the wound. Using a piece of folded up denim, he holds it against his injury, tying a piece tightly around his calf to keep it in place. It’s not great, but it’ll do for now, until he can get to a proper first aid kit. Andy can practically hear Rowan in the back of his head, scolding him for getting hurt in the first place. Once she knows the context, he’d imagine she probably wouldn’t think much of the injury after.

The sound of Tex’s screams pulled his attention, the man having regained consciousness and begun to panic -- The knee jerk reaction from Andy is to pull his gun back out, silencing Tex with a bullet to the chest. Andy unloads the rest of his clip into the man as he approaches, finding himself feeling lighter and lighter with each shot, despite the fact that he’s now limping. An unbearable amount of helplessness has weighed on him the last six months — Like all he can do is watch these terrible things happen from the sidelines, only able to help tend to the aftermath rather than keep his loved ones safe. What has left him lying awake at night as been the feeling that he’s constantly one step behind, always a minute too late — Whether it’s the shipment getting hijacked and Blake getting to him hours later, homes being burned down while he’s shooting up a warehouse, his own wife lying beaten and bloody in the middle of the street while he sits at a restaurant waiting for her. One thing after the other.

It’s unclear what kind of man it makes him to take such pleasure in revenge -- That he isn’t haunted at night by the people he’s killed or the homes he’s wrecked for the right amount of cash. Maybe it’s proof that he really is his father’s son, or that he’s just as heartless as people believe him to be. Andy’s not sure if it matters much at this point. The idea of knowing he is sending these assholes to an early grave gives him a sense of peace he hasn’t felt in a long time, one he wasn’t sure he’d ever know again after Valentine’s Day. This isn’t the end of the Rogues, but it’s retribution for what they’ve done, bringing him more clarity than ever before. Anyone who hurts the people he loves deserves to die screaming.

Confusion finds him when the sound of a gun firing fills his ears with a familiar ringing, a bullet hitting the dead man on the ground in front of him rather than its intended target. Andy follows the direction it came from to find a wild eyed Jack, having managed to pull himself across the floor in a bloody heap, far enough to get to a gun, clearly struggling to hold himself up right even while propped against the turned over table. He had the element of surprise on his side, but Andy has the benefit of not having been shot in the stomach -- So he moves quickly across the small room, easily smacking the gun out of the man’s hand. It’s clear Jack is running on pure adrenaline and spite, though now that he got his one shot in, it’s running out. Fists colliding with the man’s jaw only speed up the process, though before he finally gives up and slumps over to side and lands on the floor -- He spits blood back at Andy, clearly trying to get in one last fuck you before he dies. Jack doesn’t get much of a reaction out of Andy, instead he stands up fully, giving the half-conscious man a good look before the heel of his boot meets his head over and over until he is long dead and unrecognizable.

#blood tw #murder tw #violence tw #gore tw #death tw #eye gore tw #stabbing tw #decapitation tw #overkill tw #gun tw #dismemberment tw #gun violence tw #stalking tw #prison tw #if i missed any sort of tw or tag for a tw please give me a shout!!!!#self 02.#it's been a long long time since i've been able to write andy going feral.............................. i need a drink <3

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mostlycompetentwriter · 4 years

Text

Side Effects- Part 3 (Final)

M/F Pairing: Y/N x Stray Kids

Genre: Yandere Stray Kids AU, Vampire AU, Fantasy AU

Warnings: graphic depictions of blood and gore, violence, smut, dubious consent, and language

Word Count: 5K

Previous Parts: Part One, Part Two

Summary: Y/N has the opportunity to finally end her relationship with the eight young men who changed her life. With the police on her side, Y/N is prepared to do anything to help their investigation into the Miroh Coven, especially since they’re tied to several missing person cases. However, returning to the coven is nothing short of condemning because Chan, Jisung, and Changbin are more determined than ever to make Y/N a permanent member.

Tag List: @softxminghao, @darjeli, @seungminshakur, @rubylove-21, @squirracha, @athosthehaunted, @lixiesbreadstick, @tapikachu, @unghchangkyun, @whereitgetsyou, @ashbash9909, @tropicalwrites, @mikailo666

I wasn’t able to properly tag these users: peachbess and lovesfaith (sad face)

What have they done? I questioned immediately when I realized that I was back in my regular bedroom the following morning. The normality of the situation should’ve been impossible because I was certain that Chan, Jisung, and Changbin had inexplicably decided to hold me hostage after finding me at that stupid club. “Remember? We can be together forever.”

However, no matter how much I tried to make sense of the preceding night’s events, I couldn’t understand why they would allow me to leave after making such promises to turn me. I don’t recall escaping, especially considering my weakened condition, which meant that the three men had brought me back to my apartment on their own accord. I mean, was this just another attempt to mess with me?

I glanced over at my nightstand, discovering a faded envelope sitting on top of my cell phone. I decided to check my messages first, relieved when I saw my roommate’s contact name. She had apparently spent the night with someone she met at the bar, but she assured me that she was safe and would be home later after work. I was glad that she was fairing better than her roommate, and I turned my attention to the envelope. The handwriting on the front was familiar, and I gently tore through the sealed contents. Inside was a folded letter, and my hands were shaking when I smoothed out the paper to comprehend the brief message written in perfect cursive:

Y/N,

Although our reunion was postponed, please accept this invitation on behalf of the Miroh Coven for your company tonight at 8:00 pm sharp.

Sincerely,

Bang Chan

What did he mean by postponing our reunion?

Unfortunately, I had no time to try and figure it out because the buzzing sound of our doorbell abruptly pulled me out of bed, and I wordlessly tucked the envelope inside my pocket. My roommate and I never received visitors, and there was a small part of me that feared for the possibility that one of the Miroh Coven members was waiting outside in the hallway. Yet, when I searched through the door viewer, I realized that a uniformed police officer was carefully sorting through a file of paperwork in her hands.

“Hello?” I asked cautiously, opening the door just enough to acknowledge the unfamiliar woman.

“Y/N?” the officer questioned.

“Yes, that’s me.”

“My name is Officer Smith. I have a few questions for you concerning your previous employer,” the officer said and I was left shaking from head to toe as I allowed her to come inside.

“Do you have somewhere we could sit down?” she asked, and I nodded curtly before leading us both in the kitchen.

“Coffee?” I asked, crowding around the machine in the kitchen.

“That would be nice.”

We were both silent while I served the warm beverage, holding my mug tightly between my hands. “Do you want any creamer?”

“I’m fine,” the officer said. “I just want you to be comfortable. There’s some very troubling things I want to talk to you about.”

“I see,” I nodded, looking intently at the file she had brought with her.

“We’re in the middle of an investigation,” she continued. “It concerns the Miroh Coven. According to our records, you were previously employed with them as a blood donor.”

“Yes, but I was forced to leave.”

“Oh?”

“We had a disagreement.”

“Well, I want you to know that they’re in a lot of trouble,” the officer explained. “We found the body of a young woman on the side of the highway completely drained of blood. When we ran her license, we discovered that she had been employed by the Miroh Coven as a blood donor during the past few months. However, when we asked the Coven about her employment, they told us a very similar story about...a disagreement.”

I shivered despite the heat from the liquid trailing down my throat. “I just...I had a lot of trouble with balancing my college lectures with their schedule. It was very demanding.”

“Of course,” the officer said, but she still wore a look of suspicion. “Normally, we might be inclined to attribute these kinds of things to a rogue attack, but there’s just too many factors that coincide with this case.”

“Like what?”

“For starters, we’ve been unable to contact their previous employees, with the exception of yourself,” the officer explained. “It seems like the Miroh Coven has a history of making their employees disappear without a trace, and I find it very problematic that the young lady we found yesterday had clearly suffered at the hands of a vampire.”

“How many other employees have they had?”

“Quite a few,” the officer said. “I think there’s something bigger going on, and I really need for you to be honest with me, Y/N, because you might be able to help us stop them.”

I swallowed hard. “You think they killed those other donors.”

“It’s very likely,” she said. “Can you tell me anything else about your resignation?”

I found it impossible to make eye contact with the officer, especially when I could still remember everything that had happened the night I left the Miroh Coven. My intention had always been to forget about those terrible circumstances because I was determined to move forward with my life, but all those other ill-fated donors suddenly made it very difficult to remain silent. “They were always nice to me,” I said. “We had a reasonable arrangement because they paid for my schooling and even let me live with them to assuage the cost of on-campus housing. It helped me finish school, but it was always meant to be a temporary arrangement.”

“I understand,” she nodded. “Did they know you were planning to leave?”

“No, but they were keeping secrets from me too,” I said. “A lot of strange things happened when I was living at the mansion.”

“Like?”

“One night, I found a pair of bodies in the basement, but Jisung told me that they were donated...” I trailed off with a choked whimper. “They were also planning to turn me into one of them.”

“Did they tell you this?”

“I guess I didn’t have the right to know,” I said. “I escaped that night and drove myself to the hospital. After that, I moved back here and tried to forget about everything that happened.”

“I understand that it was traumatic for you,” the officer said. “I’m sorry you had to bring it up again.”

I shook my head. “If they’re hurting other people, then I don’t mind the pain.”

The officer sighed, reaching across the table to squeeze my hand. “Have they tried to contact you since then?”

“Yeah,” I sniffled, reaching into my pocket to retrieve the folded letter. “They actually found me at a bar the other night, but they let me go for some reason. I found this letter on my nightstand.”

The officer read over the simple message and frowned. “Were you planning on meeting them tonight?”

“I don’t want to see them ever again.”

“Interesting,” the officer said. “It seems like they really like you.”

“They always told me that,” I said, remembering their whispered words of affection while sharp teeth penetrated my skin.

“I’m going to be completely transparent with you, Y/N,” the officer said. “My station is leading an investigation into the Miroh Coven, but we still need a lot of evidence to bring a case to the court of law.”

“You can have the letter,” I suggested, but she shook her head.

“It needs to be more concrete,” she said. “I need something that condemns them for the previous disappearances of those other blood donors.”

“Maybe a record or something?”

“I wish we had one,” the officer sighed. “We know those donors were employed by the Coven, but there’s no evidence of what happened to them or why they were dismissed.”

“Chan, Jisung, and Changbin own their own company,” I said. “There might be something in one of those buildings?”

“I doubt they’d be careless,” the officer said. “Actually, I’d imagine that the three of them would keep those things close, and there’s probably very few people who they trust inside the mansion.”

I could feel my entire body trembling at her knowing look. “Actually, Y/N, it seems like they trust you.”

“You want me to go to that dinner tonight with them,” I whispered, completely missing her next words because my heart was beating too loudly, drowning out the other noises around the apartment. It felt like I was falling back into a dark place, and I was desperate to find the light again.

Officer Smith suddenly reached out, fingers cold against my arm, and she effectively pulled me back into the conversation. “I know it’s a lot to ask from you, Y/N, but the answers are inside that house! Whatever you might find could bring justice to the people they’ve taken advantage of over the years.”

It was easy for her to tell me to return to the Coven when she desperately needed my help, but why did it have to be my responsibility to return to a place where I had once escaped tragedy? Nevertheless, I could feel the weight of her gaze, imploring me to undertake such a terrifying mission, and I wondered whether or not I could still protect myself when so many other people were depending on me? “Okay,” I finally said. “I’ll do it.”

The Miroh Mansion was still dark and foreboding, reminding me of the very first time I walked through the front door for my interview with Chan. It was a pivotal moment in my life, but one whose consequences I never understood until I drove to a hospital with blood pouring from a wound meant to serve as the last reminder of my mortality. I had nightmares about the Coven kidnapping me and forcing me to return, but I could’ve never imagined that I would come back here of my own decision.

I slowly knocked on the front door, swallowing down my fear because I couldn’t afford for the Coven to think anything was wrong. “Act as if we had never gotten involved,” the police had instructed me.

“I’ll try,” I had promised, and I intended to do whatever was possible to help the innocent. However, I wouldn’t go as far as risking my life to expose these horrible vampires, even if dozens of missing donors were counting on me for justice.

“Y/N,” Chan greeted smoothly when he met me outside on the porch, dark eyes swallowing me into their endless depths. “I’m glad you saw things our way.”

He invited me inside, and I anxiously made my way across the familiar carpeted hallway leading into the living room. I wasn’t surprised to see the other Coven members waiting, but it still didn’t stop my heart from leaping into my throat when I realized that I could very well die tonight if I wasn’t careful. “My dearest Y/N kindly accepted our invitation,” Jisung remarked, gliding across the floor with an impossible speed. I could smell blood on his lips as he wrapped an arm around my waist, escorting me to the lovely sectional where Minho was watching me through lidded eyes.

“You look beautiful,” Changbin contributed, holding a glass of red liquid daintily between his fingers. Felix and Hyunjin sat next to him, looking at me with barely constrained hunger. “You’re just in time for drinks.”

I stiffened instinctively under Jisung’s hold because I remembered the last time I had been offered to drink with them. “It’s just wine,” Minho smirked, holding out a glass for me to take.

I accepted it cautiously, tasting at the rim only to discover a grape-flavored taste that certainly didn’t remind me of blood. Still, I declined to drink further, holding my glass while Chan started a conversation about their business, eliminating the initial silence that had occupied the room upon my arrival. Seungmin and Jeongin happily listened, focused on their sire with an attentiveness that reminded me of my previous stay with the Miroh Coven when I had once been ignorant of their bond. “Dinner should be ready soon,” Chan reassured me and I could only nod in response.

“Do you mind if I use the restroom?” I asked, and Jisung reluctantly let me go while eight pairs of eyes watched me all the way up the staircase.

I took a deep breath, waiting until Chan started talking again before disappearing around the corner into the room I knew he maintained as an office. I immediately started for his desk, pulling out well-organized files and the notebooks full of his writings. Every so often, I glanced up at the clock hanging above the doorway because I knew that I could probably only manage twenty minutes unsupervised before someone came looking for me.

“Please,” I sighed, reading over a promising file tentatively titled extraneous paperwork. “Holy shit!”

Pictures.

Dozens of them.

They were incriminating, various bodies splayed at unattractive angles. Close-up shots of mangled corpses drenched in blood with empty eyes staring straight at the camera. I flipped them over and gasped, reading the names that sounded way too familiar to merely be a coincidence. “This is it,” I said, almost giddy with excitement despite the uncomfortable nausea twisting my stomach at the sight of these poor donors who had managed to fall victim to the merciless Coven.

I shuffled them together, restoring Chan’s office to its previous organization, before tucking the pictures inside the pocket of my jacket. I was more than ready to return downstairs, when I suddenly remembered a faint recollection of the little notebook I had once discovered in Jisung’s bedroom. It wasn’t that much further down the hallway, and I quickly jerked open the drawer of his nightstand, shoulders deflating in relief when I saw the tiny book waiting on top of his other belongings.

I gripped it tightly when I eventually retreated, resting my head against the door to his bedroom quietly because this was causing me more stress than I could handle. “Y/N?”

I immediately turned around, eyes widening in shock when I realized that Chan was waiting for me. I swallowed hard as I held my ground, keeping the journal behind me. “Did you need something, Chan?”

He didn’t respond right away, and I could feel myself growing smaller and smaller with every long second passing between us. Finally, Chan took a step in my direction. “You’ve been gone a while.”

I shifted anxiously. “I- I just remembered something in Jisung’s room. We used to look at it together when I lived here.”

Chan nodded, and I was relieved that he accepted my explanation. “We all missed you.”

“Yeah,” I said. “I missed you too.”

He closed his eyes, cherishing the lie that somehow sounded much more believable than it did inside my head. “Can you show me?”

“What?”

“In Jisung’s room,” Chan said. “What did he show you?”

I trembled as I leaned against the door. “I’m not sure if it was something he wanted to share.”

“I see,” Chan murmured. “It’s interesting because there’s something that I want to show you too.”

Chan walked away without another word, and I assumed that he wanted me to follow him. I ignored every instinct that was screaming for me to escape with my evidence because I wouldn’t make it the bottom of the staircase before a Coven member would prevent that from happening. Instead, I took slow steps on unsteady legs into Chan’s bedroom. I was inherently curious, but when he gently backed me against the wall, I understood perfectly well what he wanted.

His fingers were undoing the buttons on my shirt and I carefully shrugged off my jacket before he could find and apprehend the valuable photographs inside my pockets. I also made sure Jisung’s journal was hidden beneath the fabric before I allowed Chan to take me to his bed. The oldest vampire made no secret of his desires, tossing aside his shirt before tugging the fabric of my jeans down my legs. “Y/N,” he sighed, fingering the edges of my panties while his sharpened canines drew lines along my collarbones. My body reacted on instinct because it was impossible to resist Chan when he was looking at me like I was the answer to all of his problems. Despite everything he had done to me, I still responded to his touches and the taste of his skin on my lips. Instead of pushing him away, I held him close, occasionally glancing at my jacket waiting next to the door with the incriminating evidence necessary to end the Coven forever.

“Oh, Y/N,” he moaned. “I missed you.”

Maybe that was part of the reason why I didn’t resist because I knew that he would never bother me again once the police had their prosecution trial. It was an intoxicating sensation since I was the one with all the power and he was completely clueless to my intentions. He had no idea that I came back to spite the Coven instead of joining them like they wanted.

I watched him roll on a condom, erection prominent as he pushed slowly between my legs. I felt incredibly full, studying the pleasure on his face when he started to thrust inside of me. I looked at him the entire time with eyes wide open because I knew something that he didn’t and, while he was pleasuring me with his precious members waiting downstairs, I was taking back all that time spent in this mansion, knowing that they were more dangerous than anything I had ever encountered before.

His cock moved faster, and I reacted by spreading my legs wider for him, opening myself up to Chan’s advances. It didn’t take him long to come, and I finally closed my eyes when I felt his warm release through the thin latex of the condom. His kisses were familiar, but they also made me want to laugh because I was planning on betraying the people who claimed to love me, the vampires who actually did love me in their own messed up way.

“I love you,” he eventually said, but I didn’t respond, choosing instead to count the tiles on the ceiling overhead.

“Photos, names, addresses, detailed journal accounts...Y/N, you managed to find everything! We can cross-reference this stuff with the files and paperwork we already have.”

I smiled despite the circumstances, watching as two younger detectives sorted the files and pictures before retreating from the tiny interrogation room. “It wasn’t exactly easy for me.”

“Still, this is brilliant, Y/N,” Officer Smith exclaimed, and I felt satisfied knowing that I had done a good job. “We have enough evidence to start the raid.”

“Raid?”

She nodded. “You should know that Vampire raids are extremely rare, but I don’t think your Coven will surrender when we issue the warrant.”

I wrinkled my nose at the suggestion that I could ever belong to the Miroh Coven. “Is it safe?”

“It’s a commonplace occurrence and we’ve all received special training,” she said. “Hopefully, they’ll come to their senses and agree to a trial, but it won’t take much for a judge to officially convict them.”

“Will I have to be at the trial?” I asked, dreading the idea before it could even become official.

“I wouldn’t force you,” she replied. “A testimony would be critical, but this is enough to put them away for the rest of their immortal lives.”

I couldn’t imagine the dreaded reality of such a punishment. “What if they escape? They might try and track me down.”

“Witness protection,” she suggested. “We’ll accommodate you to the best of our abilities.”

“I understand the concept,” I said. “But they’ve found me before despite everything I did to hide.”

“Well, we can work out the details later,” she said. “For now, we need to prepare for the raid. We’ll start by sending in the evidence to the court to get our warrant for their immediate arrest.”

“Is it something that will happen soon?”

“I might have a way to expedite the process,” she grinned. “We’ve been on this case for long enough, bothering the courts for documents and employee records.”

I nodded slowly. “So everything is done?”

“For the most part,” she agreed. “We can commence stage two of our operation.”

“Thank god,” I sighed, leaning back in my chair. “I’m glad that it’s over.”

“Yes,” the officer said, but there was a reluctance in her tone that sent me immediately on edge. “Of course, we can always use your help with one last thing.”

“What could I do at this point? I’m not exactly trained for this sort of thing.”

“Yes, but we wouldn’t want the Coven to suspect anything,” she said. “They might try to leave before our warrant is formally issued. Until then, I think a distraction might hold their attention.”

“Me,” I intoned, narrowing my eyes because I wanted nothing more to do with those nasty vampires.

“We wouldn’t want them to suspect anything,” she said. “If you go back to the Coven, then they might lower their guard.”

“It was supposed to end,” I reminded her. “You said that I was finished with them.”

“I know we’re asking a lot of you,” Officer Smith said. “But this will be the last time you ever have to see them again.”

“You keep saying that,” I muttered, but we both knew that I was in too deep, which meant that I had no choice but to return to the mansion.

Felix greeted me at the door with his familiar smirk, escorting me inside to the bottom of the staircase. Today meant the official end of the Coven, but they were all completely ignorant to their impending punishment. “They want to discuss something with you,” Felix said, and I understood immediately who he was referring to despite the unnecessary pronoun game.

Still, I knew that I couldn’t keep them waiting, pausing outside of Chan’s office door before I heard someone invite me inside. I took a deep breath, opening the door to discover the three leaders waiting for me expectantly while wearing similar expressions of dark foreboding. “Y/N,” Chan said. “Have a seat.”

I obeyed instantly, looking at the Miroh Coven leader as he watched me with an unnerving attentiveness. “What’s going on? I asked.

“I think we have something serious to discuss,” Chan said and my heart was practically beating out of my chest as I studied Jisung and Changbin from the corner of my eye. They knew, I repeated to myself over and over again as I imagined a dozen different scenarios that all ended with my lifeless body thrown into some kind of river because they had discovered my treason.

“You came back,” Jisung finally said. “We weren’t expecting you to accept our invitation.”

“I was being polite,” I said, rubbing my hands along the seam line of my jeans.

“Yes, but we’re all here,” Changbin said. “We can be together.”

I shivered at his words. “We love you, Y/N,” Chan said. “The eight of us would like nothing more than to keep you with us forever.

“To turn me,” I confirmed, and he nodded his head.

“We’ll make it special,” Jisung said, patting his lap and I reluctantly joined him.

“It doesn’t have to be tonight,” Changbin confirmed, swiping his tongue across his sharp teeth. “But we are hungry.”

“And you’re such a sweet girl,” Jisung added, holding me on his lap as his teeth brushed across my carotid artery.

I held my breath because he was close to biting, but then...

“Chan! The police are outside and have a warrant to investigate the property!”

Jeongin’s face was a mess of tears which, at one time, might’ve forced me to reconsider everything that I had done, but not anymore. “What?” Chan growled, before glaring at me. “You stay here,” Chan said, and Jisung snarled in frustration as he released me before following Changbin and Chan downstairs.

For a moment, I could only focus on breathing because I had narrowly escaped Jisung’s bite and now the Coven knew that they were about to receive an unanticipated raid from the police. I swallowed hard, falling down into the floor as a piercing scream shattered the previous silence that left me shaking like a leaf inside of Chan’s office. There were suddenly loud growls and vicious noises penetrating the closed door and I buried my head between my legs and tried to calm down my racing heart.

I could hear the familiar sounds of glass breaking, of inhuman screams and yells breaking the barrier of the office. The voices of the vampires I had once known yelling out insults and curses, the destructive noises of gunshots and human-like cries for help as teeth tore through skin. It was apparent that the Miroh Coven was not backing down from this fight, and I could only pray that my officer had been right in her assurances that they could handle the Coven.

It seemed like hours had passed before I finally removed my hands from my ears, realizing that the screaming from downstairs had suddenly stopped. I waited for several moments, hearing nothing but my heartbeat in my ears and the gentle sounds of the river outside. Eventually, I managed to stand on unsteady legs, holding myself up against the wall as I started to make my way downstairs.

The smells that assaulted my senses should’ve told me everything, but I still released a piercing scream when I collapsed at the bottom of the staircase.

It was a terrifying sight, nothing but blood and crooked bodies spread throughout the room. I recognized most of the Coven, bile rising in my throat when I made contact with Changbin’s lifeless eyes. I carefully took a step back because I knew that this wasn’t supposed to happen, but an unexpected pressure around my ankle tore another scream from my throat and I fell down onto the floor.

“Y/N,” Chan croaked and I shivered when he moved over me, blood seeping through his shirt, but his eyes were still perfectly focused. “I have nothing now, Y/N,” Chan gasped, gripping tightly to my chin and forcing me to look into the empty eyes of Han Jisung.

He pulled me closer, exposing his sharpened teeth and I could do nothing to stop him. This was it, I thought to myself, the moment I had been running from since that tragic night eight months ago. Because Chan was unrelenting, drinking with long, painful bites that sent a searing pain down my spine as my body fought against the significant blood loss. Everything was cold and I wondered if death always felt this unpleasant.

However, the sudden reverberation of a loud snarl forced me to reconsider the darkening spots in my vision, searching behind me when I realized the brutal aspect of Chan’s bite had suddenly subsided. I felt my mouth drop open in horror, but the feeling quickly disappeared when I realized Officer Smith had speared Chan straight through the heart with a silver stake. The impact was immediate and Chan’s body dropped to the floor unceremoniously, leaving me with only a pair of red eyes gazing unblinkingly from the beyond. Meanwhile, Officer Smith offered me a kind smile that seemed out of place considering the blood staining the front of her uniform. “You deserve a better life, Y/N,” she whispered before her eyes rolled into the back of her head as she collapsed next to Chan.

It took me a moment to regain my bearings, looking around at the surrounding carnage. There was blood everywhere, bodies lying in deep puddles and contorted awkwardly from their injuries. It was a startling realization because they were all gone, both vampires and humans. There was nothing left from their vicious fight.

I was also incredibly tired and I closed my eyes despite my situation. Everything felt heavy, and I just wanted to forget the entire night before I had to comprehend the unfortunate tragedy of the Miroh Coven. I thought I deserved it considering the heavy loss weighing over my heart.

After a while, I became aware of a piercing light burning from somewhere in the distance. I gradually opened my eyes because the morning had arrived and, despite the death and destruction around me, I wanted desperately to find a better future in that beautiful light...

Epilogue- 2 Years Later

Vampires had rapidly gone into hiding, especially following the inquiry into the Miroh Massacre, as the newspapers delicately framed the tragedy. Apparently, society decided that they would no longer embrace their culture, finding more evidence of various Covens abusing the donor law which was eventually retracted in court. Subsequently, the vampires were forced to remain out of the public eye lest they face a severe punishment from the newly minted Hunters who spent their lives training to kill rogue vampires.

As for myself, I had finally taken back full ownership of my life, accepting a full-time research position that eventually led me to my future husband. After our marriage, we moved into an idyllic home in the suburbs and I gave birth to my son who proved to be everything that I needed in this world. Everything was starting to work out for me, and I was finally reassured that the past was truly forgotten because the ones who had haunted it were now gone forever.

“Mommy!” my son called, and I found him in the doorway to his bedroom looking up at me with tired brown eyes. “I can’t sleep.”

“Why is that?” I asked while gently encouraging him to lay back down on his bed.

“A kid in my class,” he said. “He told us about the vampires.”

“Yeah? Well, how would he know anything? He’s probably never even seen a vampire. Not many people have.”

“What about you?”

I shivered at the question. “It doesn’t matter, sweetheart. Vampires aren’t a problem anymore and there are people now who can protect us.”

“Really?” he asked, and his eyes were incredibly innocent of the true horrors of this world.

“They won’t ever hurt you,” I promised my son before flipping his light switch. I closed the door gently, praying that he might sleep through the entire night in his own bed, before I walked into the kitchen for something to drink. I smirked as I popped the cork on a new bottle of wine that my husband had bought for the two of us to share. It seemed unnecessarily mischievous to drink with my son in the other room, but I still liked to indulge every now and then, especially after remaining sober for nine months during my pregnancy.

I sighed as I drained the first glass, feeling the numbing effects spread through my body like an aphrodisiac. It had been a stressful day because of some unnecessary paperwork at the research institute where I worked, but I knew that everyday couldn’t be perfect. After all, I was absolutely grateful for everything in my life, even if it caused me the occasional headache.

I started washing my wine glass, lost in thought until a strange noise outside forced me to pause in my cleaning. It sounded close to the garage attached to our house, and I figured it might be raccoons again because they were becoming a problem. I glanced out the window, shrugging when I didn’t notice anything suspicious. However, if I had only taken an extra moment to study the outline of my husband’s garden, then I might’ve noticed the unusual pair of crimson-red eyes watching me from outside.

The End.

#stray kids #stray kids fanfic #skz #skz fanfic #stray kids smut #bang chan #han jisung #seo changbin #lee minho #hwang hyunjin #lee felix #kim seungmin #yang jeongin #stray kids fantasy #stray kids vampires #skz imagines #skz scenarios #3racha fanfic

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saelwen · 4 years

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Maedhros x Blind!Elf!Reader

Request by a lovely anon:

Here's a peculiar idea. How about Maedhros when he got captured and taken to Angbang, he meets another prisoner (reader) who's in opposite cell from him. They become quickly friends when reader talks to him and try to comfort him after every torture. After he got rescued by Fingon he never saw reader again but always remembered them. After years he thought reader was dead but alive and well wich then leads to a warm reunion. What do you think about this?

Masterlist

Warnings: ANGST, mentions of rape and torture.

Words:2k

A/n: So I made this request a little hardcore. 😂 But I will do a part 2 and it will be fluffy!

“Let him be!” you scream to the horrendous orcs that were dragging again Maedhros to the torture room, your small hands around the cold bars of your cell.

“Shut your mouth, elf scum!” one of the orcs snarls, kicking your cell roughly.

Those beasts dragged Meadhros away, laughing wickedly while kicking in his ribs which earn them more screams and curses from you. When the door was close you could hear the chains hitting on metal, chaining him to the torture table. You close your eyes as the first painful cry come from the torture room, tears falling down from your e/c eyes.

This were your days in Angbang. They thought that torturing Maedhros was torture for you...and it was. His painful scream made you sobbing mess, your body shake in fear and sorrow.

You had met him when he was on his way to fight Melkor, the Dark Lord. You two shared a camp since you were also traveling but not to where he was going.

On that night, you two become really good friends. You sharing stories of your travels and he sharing tales of the beautiful land, Valinor. You understand his commitment to his father’ oath, it was his right to retrieve the heirloom of his family.

In the morning, you gave him your sword. Promising to follow him and fight for him which he accepted but made you promise to run away if the things get too ugly.

You never did that...instead, you try to help him when he was caught by a horrible monster which leads you to the same fate.

The door of the torture room open and a bloody Maedhros was thrown to his cell. The orcs spat on his bruised body and left while laughing like hyenas. You crawl to the cold bars of your cell, trying to look at him better.

“Maedhros?... Are you okay?” you asked with a tiny voice, fat tears running down your soft cheeks.

He curls his body, groaning in pain. “...I don’t know if I can take more of this...” his voice weak.

You shook your head slowly, trying to contain your sob. “W..We will get out of here soon... I will get you out of here, Maedhros!” a small smile formed on his lips with your words.

“You always see the bright side, Y/n.... but I think you are wrong this time...” he groans while trying to sit up.

---

You woke up with a loud bang. You open your eyes and saw a group of large orcs dragging Maedhros away.

“Where are you taking him?!” you asked with a firm voice.

One of the orcs chuckles and looks at you with his dark eyes fill with lust, looking to your body up and down. “The Dark Lord wishes that his guest of honor has a little fresh air.” that was the only thing you got from the orcs as they drag a weak elf out of the room.

You scream and hit the dark bars of your cell, yelling that you will rip their heads off if something happens to Maedhros but your promises only earn you a belly laugh from the orcs.

“Don’t worry, Y/n... I will be okay...” he whispers with a small smile on his face. His beautiful red hair caught in a fist of an orc, who was dragging him away.

You nod slowly, crying like there’s no tomorrow. Seeing his pale body disappearing as the door closes.

“Please...Please, Eru! Save him...” you whisper under your breath, curling your body in the corner of your cell.

---

Days, weeks, months have passed and there wasn’t any sight of Maedhros or of any orc. They left you in your cell to rot.

Your body was weak from not eating or drinking for days since they had forgotten about you. You were lying down on the cold stone floor, trying to drink your own saliva when the cell door opens and a massive orc walk in.

“Well, it seems that your little friend had run away without you.” his dark voice made a frown appear on your face, confused by the mean of his words which made the orc let out a booming laugh. “Oh? I see that the other didn’t tell you...Your friend was rescued by his cousin and by what it seems, he had left here to rot.” tears were now running down your eyes again which surprise since you were dehydrated.

Maedhros got free?...and left you here all alone? Your thoughts were running crazy on your head. Rage and sorrow filled your weak body. A gasp fell from your lips as the massive orc pick you up, landing his rough hand on your ass.

“Since our favorite toy had run away, you will take his place!” he said while taking you to a dark room.

You knew that you should fight him, trashing your arms and legs but you were too weak and heartbroken to do anything.

Taking a deep breath, you close your eyes and prepare for the worst moment of your life to begin.

---

Two years have passed since you got away from the dungeons of Angbang. After all the awful days being torture, you finally got your hands on the dungeons keys. You barely got out but after running away, a kind gentle couple took you in and help you heal your deep wounds and navigate alone since you were blind since your first torture.

You are happy now, living a simple farmer's life. Helping the kind couple with their farm and selling their vegetables and fruits in the market in the nearest town. You still had nightmares of your days in Angbang, dreaming that you were still there, dreaming of what they did to you, the sound of wicked laugh and chains hitting metal still echoed in your mind.

“Y/n! Do you need help today in the market?” Lothien, a beautiful elleth with silver hair and beautiful grey eyes, asked. Her voice was firm but you could hear the age on it.

You smile and shook your head. “No. Berion will help me today, Mary,” you said gently, putting the last basket on the wagon. “You stay in the house and rest!” she snorts and you hear her light feet walking back to the house.

“How do you expect me to rest when I have a heavy baby in my belly!” she murmured under her breath while rubbing her large baby bump, making you giggle.

You sit on the wagon and told Berion that everything was ready. Berion was Lothien’s husband. He was a kind elf, little too naive. Always making sure that you were okay and help you with everything.

After two hours of traveling and hearing the hilarious tales of Berion, you two finally arrive in the town. He helps you to build your bank, after that he told you that he took the horses to the pastor.

As you were putting the light basket with fruit on the table, a warm hand touched your shoulders. Your turn back slowly, a smile on your face, thinking that was the first client of the day...but it wasn’t.

“Y/n?.... Oh, Eru! What have they done to you?” a familiar voice sounded in front of you, the deep and gentle voice that you loved to hear in your days in Angbang.

“Maedhros?” you whisper, your hands shaking in rage, pain and... relief?

He took a step forward, his large warm hand cupping your soft cheek. “It’s me, Y/n...” his thumb stroke slowly under your eyes, touching your scars. “...They took your sight...” he whispers, almost to himself.

You took a step back and chuckle, trying to move away from his gentle touch. “it wasn’t the only thing they took from me.” you said sarcastically. You put your hand on the wooden table and follow it until you on the other side of the bank.

“What they did to you, Y/n?” Maedhros asked, follow you close behind. His voice full of rage, you could hear his jaw clenching in fury.

You turn to him quickly, your pure white eyes glowing with anger. “Why do you care, Maedhros?” your words come out full of venom.

You heard him take a deep breath. “Why do I care? Y/n! You are my friend!....even more than that!” his words made tears running down your cheeks from frustration and confusion.

“So, you left behind a friend on the horrible place? Is that how you treat your friends?” you could feel your face become red with anger. “You want to know what they did to me? Okay, I will tell you... They put hot needles between my fingernails, crafted their names on my skin with their daggers. Shaved my head bald and then made me eat my own hair.” you took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself. “They dumped hot oil in my eyes which took my sight and then...and then after when they were pleased with their work, they took my innocence.... taking turns to rape me.” when you finished, you were a sobbing mess.

All the things and feelings that you try to shove away from you, were now coming back in full force. Your knees gave out and you fall into the cool grass, sobbing into your shaking hands. You start hyperventilating, your breath didn’t want to come out. The sound around you become distanced, darkness surrounding from everywhere.

Suddenly, you were wrapped into a bear hug. The familiar warmth pushed away your panic attack, making your shivering body melt into the strong chest. You took a deep breath, taking as many airs you could into your lungs. A large hand stroke gently your h/c hair, playing softly with your locks.

“I’m so sorry, Y/n...I’d go back and save you but...but I couldn’t...” his voice filled with guilt. You feel his soft lips against your forehead, kissing gently your scars. “Come with me! I swear that I will protect you forever! Even if it takes my life.” Maedhros whisper against your ear, making goosebumps all over your body.

You shook your head and look to him, agony filled your chest for not could see his handsome face anymore or his beautiful red locks. “I won’t, Maedhros... I have finally found happiness and I won’t let anything take it from me,” you said while standing up, cleaning your soaked cheeks. “Even more, you are an elven Prince and I'm a mere elleth that is broken... We aren’t made to each other.” your voice was cold and firm.

You heard a light sniff coming from Maedhros, making you know that he was crying. “Very well... I will leave you alone but know something Y/n... I always had loved you and always will! Nothing will take my heart from you.” his beautiful words made a small tear run down from your pearly white eye.

“Goodbye, Y/n.”

“Goodbye, Maedhros.”

Hey Guys!! Here’s a new one-shot with Maedhros!! I hope you like it and feel free to comment and tell me what you think!

XOXO

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cherry3point14 · 4 years

Text

Stranger Than Fanfiction: Ch 4

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Dean x Reader Warnings: Like one big boy word. Criminal activity. Word count: 3,185. Chapter Summary: Staying late at work is usually nice and quiet. Usually. A/N: This chapter is so dumb but I love it a lot.

Ao3 if you prefer

Y/N would say that one of the perks of her job was getting out of the office from time to time. Sometimes a case required anything from a simple home interview to speaking to several family members over a number of days. She relished in the peace working away from inboxes and water cooler talk however, every once in a while she could find the same serenity in the uniform walls of her employment building. Today was one of those very days. Today she sat at her desk, alone, long past her colleagues' departure at five pm. The overhead lights were off and Y/N, whose fingers sped over the keyboard urgently, was lit only by the cool glow of her screen.

“It’s not super peaceful when you won’t shut up.” As much as you fought becoming complacent to the voice in all honesty you were glad to have her back in some small way. You hadn’t heard her for days now, not since you started reading Supernatural. It’s only now that you’d finished, she was back to her usual tricks. Some ridiculous ten-minute lecture about you waking up late for work was your reunion this morning. While it was true that you were very late for work today—two hours to be precise—she didn’t once mention that it was because of your late-night finishing off Swan Song.

That wasn’t too concerning. The voice ignoring your reading habits was minor in comparison to her being back at all. Her return meant your aneurysm hadn't been temporary and you were closer to one of two things. Solving the mystery of why Maggie Hall’s file was so important, or dying.

Obviously, option number one was preferable.

After an entire day of her, you have fallen completely into accepting that she's not going away anytime soon. For the most part, you have let her harp on like she’s looking for a book deal but now that you’re alone and trying to concentrate, you find yourself responding to her. For your own satisfaction of answering back.

She was feeling productive. Each word she wrote punctuated by the precise click of her fingers on the keyboard. A familiar sense of achievement swelled within her chest as she began to summarise her decision on the claim. Summaries are nothing more than detailed endings, which is why Y/N was particularly excited to be writing this one. More so than any other claim she had finished up before.

An ending was exactly what she was hoping for. The unusual situations she had found herself in over the last few days were too messy for even her to organize. Tangled up like a ball of string after being batted around by a cat. Logically then she was focusing on the only thing that made sense, tie up one loose end and the others would right themselves. Finish this piece of work and maybe she'd live.

How unfortunate then for Y/N that the universe did not look kindly upon her attempts to be orderly. How utterly unlucky that she had not guessed any of the answers correctly. Today was not fated to hold any happy endings for her. Not the closing of file twenty-four zero one, nor the reasonable explanations she had been searching for.

Your fingers stutter to a stop. What the hell does she mean you weren’t closing this claim? You are ten minutes of proofreading away from pressing submit, you had stayed late to finish. At this point, it would take an act of God himself to stop you.

That’s when you see a flash of light coming from reception. Flash is vague. A beam of light might be a better description, as in, the kind of beam emitted by a flashlight. Wait, there are two flashlights now. Oh shit.

Suddenly you taste bile in your throat and your hands are clammy enough to be sticky. The voice said this case would kill you and now you’re sitting here working late, and she’s saying you weren’t going to close it and… and… is it going to happen now? You’d assumed it was something in the file that killed you but you’d also assumed you had more time. Really, truly, this could be it. Imminent death means about to happen, not will happen when it’s convenient for you. This is it, isn’t it? You’re about to be accidentally murdered in an office robbery because you stayed to work late. On that particular file.

She was not prepared to die. Not while there still wasn’t a grey hair on her head or while she hadn’t been to the Grand Canyon. Y/N had no preparations for the end.

No. Not now. It couldn’t be.

She had no will, no funeral plans, and no video message to her family about a series of clues leading to a great treasure. And on Wednesday night, early June with spring barely making way for summer was the last possible moment she would ever expect to meet her maker.

You want to hide but it’s impossible. Hiding would require you to have some control over your body. An impossible feat, while you're listening with bated breath to what you assume, is your last paragraph.

Obviously, Y/N would not be dying tonight.

“Are you joking? How is that obvious?” You whisper into the dark, edging into frustration. Barely enjoying the relief of not dying when your narrator is toying with you.

She still had a new life to begin. One which began and ended with two men that had left as quickly as she'd met them. Fate has a perverted sense of humor and had chosen to push her forward into the unknown. This is why these important men were breaking into her office at precisely that moment.

The footsteps of the intruders get closer. You don’t have a direct view of reception but you’d seen the flashlights on account of it being dark in here. They sound like they're near reception, maybe twenty seconds from coming in. Once they’re in the main part of the office then all they’d have to do is turn a little to their left and they’d spot you. In the corner hanging out.

But it’s the guys breaking in? The cosplayers. They’re the wannabe Winchester’s who have turned to robbery to get their kicks?

You don’t know if it's actually them, not really. Not until they do take those last steps into the room but you hear them before you see them.

“Remind me why you haven't done some nerd computer thing to get this?”

“I already tried, remember? Their system says it’s still in process so none of the details are on their servers yet. And since we need to find out where the money went…”

“... we need to get the physical file. Got it.” Mystery man number one sighs before he continues, “S’no fun killing a monster if you don’t have to work for it.”

A monster? It’s almost impressive how much these guys committed to whatever insane game they're playing. Almost being the keyword. These guys were genuinely crazy, and that was coming from someone with an unexplainable voice in her head.

Y/N finally overcame the initial wave of fear that had hit her when the flashlights had cut through the darkness. She reached up and shut off the monitor on her desk, the last thing that had been lighting her up like a Christmas tree. Her laptop was still running in its dock, she had no intention of losing all her work. She only wanted to lose herself, hide, snuffing out the screen, and rolling her chair backward seemed to do the trick. She felt safer already. Her heartbeat returning to something akin to its normal steady rhythm now that she was cloaked in darkness. As soon as they were distracted she might even be able to risk slinking to the floor and hiding below her desk. It wasn’t a risk she was willing to take right now though, while they were still on high alert having just arrived.

You’re grateful that the voice is playing ball and giving you some useful information. It’s completely new, having so far only heard ominous foreshadowing and cryptic introductions, but it’s nice. Dare you say it, fun. For once in this whole ordeal, you actually feel like you’re in a story while you do exactly what she says. You sneak the smallest smile when you see their large shadows, finally step into the office. This might be where you have some luck on your side.

“You check out the desks, I’ll go find the filing cabinets.” It’s pretty hard to make out with their backs to you but you’d wager it was the taller shadow that said that.

The same bigger shadow starts walking towards the back of the office. He doesn’t know he’s heading towards the break room, although he probably thinks he has all night to figure it out. He can have all the time he wants as soon as you’re under your desk. Once you’re properly out of the way you look forward to not interrupting them as a stupid person might. You were perfectly ok with not being a hero.

Of course, she was not accustomed to the cat and mouse game of breaking and entering. Y/N was not used to dark corners and darker rooms. And since she hadn’t used one since the last time her power went out, she seemed to have forgotten how flashlights worked as well.

“What?” you splutter. Faith in the voice shattered in an instant.

In the next second, you’re blinded by a light in your eyes, you reach up to block it out but as you do his voice booms out. “Sam! We got company.”

The tall guy comes running and now there are two lights in your face.

“Do you think we could not blind me?” They start lowering their flashlights when the other shoe drops, “wait, Sam? You-you’re using the names too?” It shouldn’t shock you, they’re driving the car and wearing the flannel clearly, they’re adopting the names too. But until now you’d been able to compartmentalize the books you’d read and the men that drove around in a car with the Winchesters fictional license plate.

Coming face to face with them she feels completely different now. The territory is hers; her office, her desk, her mug with her name on. The problem; this was not her game, it was theirs. Y/N was simply working late whereas they were more adept at the after-hours version of this story. She might think they were delusional but this wasn’t the first crime she had them on the hook for. She could only imagine the hundreds, if not thousands, of other illegal activities they had gotten away with, all to play pretend.

“Nobody was supposed to be here.” The guy pretending to be Sam says to the guy who you can only imagine is pretending to be Dean.

“Well, there she is anyway.” Wannabe Dean huffs, both angry and disappointed at the same time. “But hey, maybe this can speed everything along, no more looking around in the dark at least.”

They’re both very good at talking about you while simultaneously ignoring you. Neither of them even flinch when you get up out of your chair and walk over to the light switch.

The room flooded with light like any room would when a switch is flipped, however, this wasn’t any kitchen light switch. The office is a large space and the fluorescents required to illuminate it are industrial. It’s enough to pain anyone's eyes with how sharply their pupils contract. Unless you are the one pressing the switch in the first place. It was Y/N’s hand flipping the four switches required and so her eyes were closed in preparation. However the mystery men had been seconds from bickering so they jerk their heads as if trying to escape the inescapable, like it's the first time they've ever seen anything so bright. Y/N felt wholly better with the heat on her closed eyelids. Because she knew when she opened them the office would hers again, the control would be hers.

When you dare to look they both whip their heads to you, shocked that you’ve moved. You’ve managed to find an ounce of confidence in the light, or if you believe the voice in your head, a whole gallon. “I don’t know what game you’re playing pretending to be people, first at the house and now this. I didn’t tell anyone about this,” you motion a hand at where they're standing, “clearly that was my mistake. So, uh-just get out of here and I won’t say anything else about it.”

“Sweetheart, we ain’t playing games here and we ain’t leaving.”

He steps towards you, a finger pointing to the floor to reiterate that he’s staying put. You wrongly assumed this would be as easy as it had been at Mrs. Halls when they'd run so quickly, forgetting that you'd had an audience there.

“You are if you don’t want me to call down to security. I’m sure the cops would love a case like this—there’s an eyewitness!”

Y/N would never in a million years be able to describe where the sudden anger that consumed her had come from. She was hardly an agitated person. She could be sad or sarcastic, she’d been known to give a measured but scathing comeback and some would even call her curious. That’s not to say she’d never been angry, she had, but anger was never the first thing she chose to be, or feel. It was always such a demanding emotion. So, then this agitation was almost foreign to her and the way it forced her hand, more so.

“Maybe we should…” Not Sam starts before he’s interrupted.

“No Sam. We need that file if we’re going to stop this thing and right now this is our only option.” He points at you now signaling that you are the ‘this’ part of his sentence; their only option.

In another life, she might have rolled over rather than stare down the barrel of this argument. She might have seen the opportunity to get rid of them by giving them something small, like say confidential information, and done it without question. This was not her old life, nor the old Y/N. This was the new life she hadn’t realized was starting. The funny thing was she hadn’t needed to know. All she’d needed was this man in front of her to force her into a rage and as if by magic, she had begun to transform.

You push past fake Dean to make your way back to your desk, “that’s not happening. All client information is property of First National which means it isn’t mine to give. Not to mention the fact that you didn’t say please.”

Her shoulder connects with his and it's the exact moment she realizes how close he was standing to her. He realizes the same. He’s close enough to grab her and spin her around but Y/N's body shudders tellingly with his fingers pressing into the flesh of her forearm.

“I don’t know what kind of power trip you think you're on but..." He grits through his teeth still holding you.

“Dean, can you calm down?”

The breaking point of your anger turns into a sardonic laugh aimed at him. “You too?” You pull your arm away and get back to your chair. “I can’t get normal criminals breaking in while I’m working late? It has to be two weirdos running around pretending to be the Winchesters.”

It’s clear immediately that you’ve said something neither of them was expecting. You’re sitting at your desk waiting for one of them to stop you from picking up the phone, while they don’t seem to even notice your hand is on the receiver.

“How do you know that? I mean, how do you know about us?” The tall guy that you refuse to call Sam, even in your head, asks.

Two pairs of eyes bore into you waiting for an answer and for some reason your hand goes lax on the phone. “I ran your plate from outside Mrs. Halls because you don’t work with me. And I found these books but I mean, why are you even driving around with fake plates from some books anyway?”

It was a simple question that you were hoping had a simple answer, you know, fanboys or something. Instead of any answer at all, they start having one of those lovely conversations that excludes your existence, again.

“Goddamn son of a bitch, we’ve got to get rid of those things.”

“Charlie said there’s no point now they’re online. How would we even start? Great example right here.”

“So what? We just roll over and die?”

Tall guy, not Sam, takes a reassuring step to fake Dean which means he takes a step away from you and your desk. “This might be a good thing ok, if she knows she can help us track it.”

You refuse to believe it because it’s ridiculous. Those books are works of fiction and there’s no possible way they are real. Because if the books are true then that means monsters are… nope. You live alone so there’s definitely no way. But you should clarify. Even if it’s a thousand percent the most ridiculous thing you have ever heard, you should still double-check.

“Are you trying to say that you’re actually Sam and Dean? Like, you think you’re Sam and Dean from the books?”

It’s scarily-similar-to-the-description-of-Dean who leans in with both hands flat on your desk and growls. “Honey, we don’t think okay, we are them. I’m Dean and this is Sam, and those books you decided to read? Yeah, they’re about us.”

“But that means monsters are…”

“Real. Monsters, angels, and everything between.”

She may not have known about the ticking clock already counting down the remaining seconds of her young life. She may mistakenly have thought that her newfound temper was the reason for her flushed cheeks. She did know one thing for sure. One completely life-changing fact with absolute certainty, because that fact was staring at her with more intensity than she'd ever known. A man named Dean Winchester just told her that every terrifying monster she could imagine was real.

The voice in your head, unfortunately, had not been wrong yet.

Continue to Chapter 5.

5eva tags: @divadinag @darthdeziewok @fluentinfiction @witch-of-letters @supernatural-teamfreewillpage @magnitude101999 @alexwinchester23 Dean babes: @thewinchesterchronicles @akshi8278 @bloodydaydreamer StrangerThanFiction tags: @jaylarkson

#dean x reader #supernatural fanfiction #spn x reader #dean winchester x reader #spn fanfiction #supernatural #spn #spn fanfic #supernatural fanfic #dean winchester #dean winchester x you #dean x you #dean x y/n #dean dean the soft lil bean

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dumbsnakefan · 4 years

Text

Thou Shalt Love

Chapter 2: In You I Take Refuge

A/N: This took longer than expected but here it is! Also, if you want me to tag you in the next chapter please let me know!

Hidden away in a small Inn in a town surrounded by only nature, Nea watched over Allen’s prone figure. A thin layer of sweat covered his nephew’s body from exertion. His mind still tried to fight the inevitable of his awakening. Well, Nea supposed that Allen was too stubborn to ever give in so easily. Not that it wouldn’t make a difference in the end. The Noah memories were like an unrestrained storm as they tore into the brain.

Letting out an aggravated sigh Nea said to himself, “Why did that bastard Cross have to die on me like that? He always manages to piss me off.” His eye twitched as he remembered the debts the man had hoisted upon his former host. Despite all his hatred for the General there were too many questions left unanswered. From what Timcanpy had shown him Allen had forgotten everything. What’s more, he had gotten younger. It was like trying to put together a puzzle without most of the pieces.

Had Cross not had answers for that at least Nea could have used his magical skills. That four eyed idiot had done something strange and outside his own abilities. As best he could figure, however, their “separation” hadn’t accounted for the Noah gene. He could laugh if not for the absolute mess of it all.

There was something strange about this memory as well. It was like none of the others as far as he could tell. Allen’s inner Noah was swaddling him in a thorny embrace, like a babe in need of protection. Compared to his own, a destructive thing that had him clawing at his skin in agony, it was soft. Nea felt an urge to pull his nephew close and never let go again. The strangeness of Allen’s memory was oddly fitting.

Lacking any new information to dissect Nea could only move on to other things. Specifically how the Noah family would react to this. Like Nea they had to have felt the surge of a new memory breaking into the world. They would want to pull him away from the dreaded 14th as soon as they could, lest he “corrupt” their new brother. A smile stretched across Nea’s lips as he swore to keep his dearest friend by his side.

What a family reunion they’d be having. If Mana had any real sanity left Nea would have liked to share one last tender moment before the end. Fate and that detestable God were not so kind as to give any Noah such a merciful gift though. They would forever seek to destroy them for being in the way. Should Nea succeed he would put an end to their farce. His brother would be freed at long last.

Keeping Allen far away from this whole affair was very important. The attachment he’d formed with Mana could turn into a crushing weight when the truth was revealed. Those bonds of father and son were already so entangled with tragedy; Nea wouldn’t let another disaster play out. Mana’s insanity could drag them all down if left unchecked.

From what Timcanpy had shown of Allen’s time as Red, his brother had been attached at the hip with him. Nea knew that he’d forgotten it all just by the way he treated his nephew. That didn’t mean that Mana wasn’t drawn to him, oh no. Even when not a wisp of Nea’s presence had been visible the Earl had targeted Allen. Drawn like a moth to a flame, they circled each other. Now under the calming lull of the Noah memory inside Allen Mana would chase him wholeheartedly.

Then there was the other Noah to consider. Road and Joyd seemed to have the strongest bond with Allen of the family. While the others weren’t as close, they all appeared interested when interacting with him. Being a true part of the family could only grow their connection. It made Nea sick just thinking about it. The need to keep Allen close and out of their grubby hands echoed from his own Noah.

Wasn’t keeping Allen by his side the best way to make sure he was safe? Those disgusting roaches that scuttled about the Order were still searching for Allen. Nea had seen how easily they had hurt their beloved comrade. All throughout the past Timcanpy had shown Nea there had been pain. His nephew’s past was a constant spiral of suffering. Taking him away from the world that was so ready to tear him apart could only be a kindness.

Tension had built to a boiling point in Nea’s body and he forced himself to release it. In an attempt to calm down he scouted closer to the bed. A new bead of blood pooled along Allen’s stigmata that Nea wiped away. Unconsciously he pushed into the contact. Warmth bloomed in Nea’s chest. Seeing his dearest friend like this, utterly peaceful, was something he’d truly missed.

His senses registered the Noah memory shift from it’s dormant state and Nea braced for another wave of pain. More blood flowed down from Allen’s forehead as he became restless. The once lax expression of sleep twisted in pain. That’s when the screaming started, scratching Allen’s throat raw. It was hard not to wince at the sheer volume of his screams.

As the screams faded out Nea felt a new presence join them. Annoyed and reluctant to leave Allen’s side Nea turns to face the intruder. Standing before him is the Demon Eye, expression a mask of indifference. Rage so obviously simmers behind the facade but Nea finds it as threatening as a wet kitten.

His smile is packed full of malice as he says, “Didn’t know they’d let you come alone to see me kid.” The twitch of annoyance from Wisely’s reincarnation is so sweet. “You’d think with how easily I killed you last time you would all be a bit more careful.” Bloodlust oozes off Nea in waves, making the air thick with it.

Only when Allen’s scream rise back up does he stop. Nea is so tempted to return to his side to comfort him. The possibility of an attack is what holds him back. Wisely would be more than happy to slit his throat and take Allen away for good; or at least attempt to. There was no way Nea would give him that kind of opening.

“Would it kill you to be nicer, dearest 14th? I’m here to give you some friendly advice after all.” The moniker has Nea gnashing his teeth. He knows that smug bastard is enjoying himself. What an asshole.

Tilting his head Wisely says, “Like you’re one to talk. You really hold the title of world's biggest asshole.” Of course the little creep was reading his mind. Even in his new life Wisely refused to learn what privacy means.

Moving closer to the other Noah, Nea glares down with cold eyes. “Cut this bullshit and tell me why you’re really here.”

“We won’t let you keep him from us.” The brat dares to step closer to Allen and Nea watches him like a hawk for a single misstep. “You can’t hide no matter how hard you try. Someday soon we’ll bring our brother home, where he belongs.”

Something in Nea snaps. Anger grips his heart like a vice. Unwilling and unable to hold back, he shoots towards Wisely. His hand wraps around the bastard's neck. Blood drips from where his fingernails bite into WIsely’s skin as Nea squeezes his windpipe. The choked panic gives him no satisfaction. Painting the walls red with his blood is what he needs now.

His grip tightens, drawing a wheeze from the pathetic Noah. “He’s mine. Allen is mine.” Nea says with unhinged glee. “You can never take him from me. I’ll kill every single one of you if you try.”

It’s only when a burst of stabbing pain sweeps over Nea’s mind that he returns to reality. He let’s go reluctantly, Wisely falling at his feet. Such a shame he couldn’t kill him, but Nea is patient. Now is not the right time to crush Wisely beneath his foot. Later he’ll make sure to make his end painful.

Between satisfying coughing fits Wisely manages to bite out, “Ru-Road said to, guh, give you a warning for old t-times sake.” The venom behind the glare he gives Nea is almost impressive. “Shouldn’t have listened to her. You deserve to watch as your world crumbles around you and you fail.” It makes him laugh, the thought that Nea would lose to the likes of him.

Wisely’s face twists up in amusement. Nea keeps himself in check as he moves towards Allen. Fighting this close to Allen could only end in disaster. Even as the rat bastard patted his nephew’s head he held back. Truly, his restraint was worthy of the highest praise.

“I can’t wait to see what our new brother is capable of. He was already such an interesting human...” The little shit was lost in his own mind as he brushed hair off Allen’s forehead. It’s a herculean effort on Nea’s behalf to stay his hand. Perhaps killing him was worth the risk after all?

However, what Wisley said next stopped him dead in his tracks. “I do wonder why the Earl is already so attached to Allen?” What? No, this can’t possibly be happening; it’s too early. “I knew that you’d have answers. There’s something slipping just outside my reach, no matter how hard I search.”

Desperately Nea snaps his mind shut to leave only unrelated drivel in its wake. He needs to throw the Demon Eye Noah off his scent. Now. “Why don’t you ask Mana yourself?” The wince he gets is a good sign. Raising his voice and stepping into Wisley’s space Nea tells him, “Now get out of my sight.”

Gold meets gold as they assess each other for weakness. Finding nothing, Wisley moves to finally leave them be. With every step Nea feels better. On the threshold of the door, however, he turns back. Body going tense Nea prepares for whatever the creep plans to throw his way next.

“Before I go, you might want to find a new hiding place. There are some Akuma out there who aren’t very good a t playing nice.” An Explosion rocks the building, punctuating his statement. The string of curses that Nea lets out would have a sailor blushing. “Hope you enjoy yourself 14th!” His smug face watches on as Nea fumbles for their things. The Ark gate behind him swallows Wisely up but Nea pays it no mind.

Screams fill the air in a terrible crescendo of horror. With Allen out of commision Nea can only run. Scooping up his struggling nephew Nea makes sure Tim grabs their luggage. Ignoring the town below he calls up his own gate and the three disappear from sight. The humans left behind in that remote town are mowed down with mercy. Chaos creeps around every corner and the scent of blood blankets the air in a red mist. No one will discover the scene of pure carnage until weeks later.

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erasethedarkness · 5 years

Text

How Do I Love Thee: Into the Limelight

Ch.1: The End

Note: How Do I Love Thee? is a series that is meant to be a slow, slow burn. While ultimately a romance, readers will not find love and affection in the first few chapters- they may not even find it in the first parts, or “arcs.” The series is meant to lay down the foundation for friendships and then build on it towards romance. The reader character exists and influences this world as much as the canon characters do- therefore, the story isn’t just about the feel good moments, butterflies, and honeymoon phase- it’s about the development of the reader and her relationships.

With that in mind, I will let you all know that HDILT? will become an Aizawa x Reader x Yamada, and hope that the wait will be well worth it to those who choose to follow the series. :)

Summary: You’d spent that last 18 months on tour with your band, RUSE. Not only were you their lead singer and second guitar- you were the very reason for the namesake. After all, your quirk was just a ruse, wasn’t it? The band quickly grew in popularity thanks to your connections in the entertainment industry. Your uncle was the owner of a successful venue in Tokyo named Limelight, and it was there that many musicians made their first entrance into the real world of rock ‘n’ roll.

Following the night of your last show, you met with your band manager. What was supposed to be a time of great relief and joy quickly turned somber. As fate would have it, you were returning home just in time for a funeral.

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Finally, the longest and largest tour you’d ever done was coming to a close. After over 75 straight weeks abroad with some of your closest friends and business partners, you were ready to return home. The tour tested the bonds of everyone present, serving as a trial for even the closest friends and lovers. Everyone needed the upcoming break from RUSE to work on new material, and more than that, to work on themselves and their families. Plus, your drummer and keyboardist just got engaged and had a wedding plan.

Tonight, as the band was performing their latest chart toppers, you shut your eyes tightly as you held a note, hunching over as your body began to glow. When the note came to an end, you snapped upright again, raising your fist proudly, and with your upward momentum, spectral fireworks flew out from the transparent, neon aura that surrounded you. Brightly colored sparks bloomed above everyone, bursting just like real fireworks, crackling in the air and decaying at the same rates without leaving any residue or harm to the venue. And as always, the crowd was riotous with delight for your tricks and grand displays, the excitement lasting through the end of the show. It was as if your quirk was meant for this.

Your ears were still ringing as the stage lights dimmed, leaving you all in darkness as you finished the encore. Arena lights came on as you walked offstage, the crowd slowly but surely moving along, their chatter creating dull white noise. Leaving your mic and guitar onstage to be packed up by someone else, you slipped passed everyone, exhausted by the last display of your quirk.

You would have done more than just fireworks for your last show, but the back to back performances between last night and tonight drained you of your energy. All you had left was just enough to get you back onto the secured RUSE tour bus and collapse in a seat as everyone else tore down the set and packed up. In the past, you helped with teardown, but it became more and more apparent that you needed to rest almost immediately after each show- something you begrudgingly accepted after you fainted before you could even make it off the stage early in the tour.

In most cases, you slept through the beginning of the after parties and made a grand, late entrance. But tonight, as if the relief of finishing the last performance unlocked the floodgates of hidden fatigue, you slept clear until the next morning. You woke up in the hotel room you shared with your bassist, Emi Mizushima, tucked into bed wearing last night’s clothes. The digital clock beside the bed read 08:15, giving you close to ten hours of sleep. Quietly and considerately, you made it out of bed and to the bathroom, desperate for a shower and change of clothes. As you undressed, you placed your phone on the counter- only to see an unread message from your manager.

Text me when you wake up.

The message was short and undetailed- which was very unlike him. Marcus had no issue with carrying out conversations through texts, and would often leave messages to be responded to at the earliest convenience. Being told to message him when you woke up just didn’t sit right with you. What did he need to talk about that he couldn’t just text?

After you showered and changed, you sent him a message, expecting him to still be asleep. Emi was after all, leaving you to assume everyone was up late. But your phone soon vibrated with another message, and to your surprise, your manager was requesting you meet him in the hotel cafe for coffee.

“(Y/N)!” Marcus called for you after you finished ordering your drink. He was at a table that was tucked away from the open lobby that the cafe blended into. You waved to him in acknowledgement as you waited at the counter for your drink, somewhat concerned for the man who certainly looked like he’d seen better days. It looked like he was out as late as you assumed Emi and the rest of the band were, and just never went to sleep. That, coupled with his vague message only worried you even more.

“Hey… Are you alright?” you asked as you sat down across from him, placing your drink on the table and holding it with both hands. “You look like someone just died.”

The look Marcus gave you instantly made you regret your words. His brown eyes were tired, as if they’d spent the night grieving rather than celebrating. They lowered from you as he sighed deeply, the mug of black coffee in front of him cold and full. You two sat in silence as an indescribable weight began to stifle the air, breaking as you spoke again.

“Who was it..?”

“...Your uncle.”

Your heart sunk as he broke the news to you.

While you were passed out after the show, Marcus received a call that he took in private while everyone else headed to the bar to celebrate. He knew the number- it was the personal number of a man who created music legends and ran Limelight, a successful venue back in Tokyo. The man was a good friend of his, but more importantly at the moment, he was also your uncle. When he answered, the voice he heard was your aunt’s. Even in her heartbreak, she didn’t want to call you and ruin your fun, assuming that you were celebrating with everyone. Through painful sobs, she explained what happened.

It was a classic case of being in the wrong place at the wrong time- at least, that’s what everyone else would say. That’s what your aunt said, and that’s what your manager repeated. But as you listened to the break down of events, you found yourself disagreeing with the sad story they were spinning. Your uncle was a man of action- that’s exactly how he got to be so successful, and how he helped musicians and bands become successful as well. He built and nurtured his relationships, and he always found solutions to the problems that were brought to him- and even to some that were not. So to hear that your uncle- a man whose greatness could easily overshadow most of the pro heroes in the world- died creating an opening for a young woman to get away from an assailant- well, that didn’t sound like he was in the wrong place at the wrong time at all. To you, it sounded like he was exactly where he needed to be.

The young woman waited for him in the hospital as the doctors did everything they could, and she was the first to speak to the police with information on the attacker. It didn’t take long for the killer to be apprehended after they got involved. Even with tears trickling down your face, you knew that your uncle would have been happy with the way things unfolded. He was simply that kind of man, and knowing that he saved one person would have been enough to put his soul to peaceful rest.

Still, you were heartbroken that one of the people you most looked forward to seeing was no longer waiting for you. After your 12 hour flight from Cairo to Tokyo, you wouldn’t be sitting with your uncle and telling him about the concerts you performed and the wild parties that were just part of the job like you planned to be. Every time you came back, you’d stop by Limelight and reminisce over how different your last show was compared to the first, which took place right on his stage.

Marcus left you at the table after sharing another heavy silence with you. Today, everyone was returning to Japan. Homecoming parties were planned by families and friends to welcome back their touring rockstar, and everyone was ecstatic to be home. Even with the emptiness that stung at your chest, you expressed a genuine delight in seeing your family and friends. For this one moment- this reunion after eighteen months- everyone was happy and grateful for your safe return.

But it ended just as quickly as it came.

One wonderful evening gave way to several nights of mourning. In the time it took to prepare your uncle’s funeral, you found yourself in your aunt’s company more than anyone else. They had no children- you were the closest thing to a child for them. As if it was some cruel trick of luck, you returned just in time to help her through the hardest part of her life since her parents passed years ago. More often than not, you took care of the legal work while she cried beside you, her head just as blurry as her vision.

You planned most of the funeral, inviting honored guests to speak that were outlined in his will, and each responded, confirming that they would give a eulogy for the legacy your uncle left. When the day came, the cemetery was full of family, friends, and famous artists who had once performed on his stage.

Sitting with your aunt, you held her hand as she sobbed beside you. Without surprise, each invited speaker was eloquent and commanding with their eulogies- the ones you recognized were performers, after all, that had graced your uncle’s stage more than once. But the last- the last speaker, you had never seen.

When the honored guest took the stand, he had an entirely different presence than the rest. Standing tall with a forlorn expression, he passed a sidelong glance to the polished urn that stood out among flowers and memorial ribbons. His green eyes looked over the rim of his white-rimmed sunglasses before he bowed his head, seeming to collect himself to begin his speech. As he lifted his face, he pushed the glasses up into his long blond hair, using them as a headband to draw back the straight, almost silky looking strands that slipped over his shoulder when he lowered his gaze.

The man wasn’t a performer you recognized, and you were certain that your uncle never introduced you. He was a complete stranger, and you felt yourself becoming a bit guarded, intrigued as he took a deep breath that hushed the attendees. Your uncle introduced you to most of his friends, helping you build your connections when you were just a fledgling musician- so, just who was this man that your uncle made sure to include in his will as an honored guest that never once made your acquaintance?

“A hero, by definition, is someone who is admired for their courage, achievements, or noble qualities,” he began, his voice carrying to the farthest person, and somehow gentle like a whisper, “yet today, it has become a prestigious occupation. The job and duty of a pro hero is to protect civilians from villains and disasters, often- if not exclusively- with the help of their quirk.

But what happens when there isn’t a pro around?” His question hung heavily in the air, awaiting an answer that would not come from the audience.

You squeezed your aunt’s hand, sharing a glance with her before you both turned your attention to the tall blond. For the first time, you noticed the small pencil mustache over his lips, and just as you did, he started speaking again.

“Well, that’s when the real heroes shine,” he answered himself softly before recanting aspects of your uncle’s life that somehow seemed new to you. Even if you’d heard the story before, hearing it from the slender man who almost looked a little too sharp in his black suit for a funeral, added something different to it. The way he spoke of your uncle had a flourish to it that you could have sworn was manifested in the man himself. Something about him just seemed to embody a strange whimsy that enthralled you and lowered your guard. His eloquence lacked the haughtiness most people of honor and prestige seemed to carry with them, and by his last words, the room was in tears.

A small streak ran down his cheek when he left the stand. Handing your aunt a last tissue, you stood as he passed you and gave him a small bow of your head. His green eyes met yours, and he simply returned a fragile smile before you replaced him in front of everyone to conclude the funeral. With everyone departing, you lost track of him, and before you could make a proper introduction, he was gone.

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bangtan-dreamland · 5 years

Text

Future Works

Series

⭐ Cliche Romances: The Bestfriend’s Edition

Summary: Or in which, we find out- is falling for your bestfriend really the ultimate recipe for heartbreak? Or is it worth taking that chance to find out?

❤ Of Hopeless Romances and Starlit Skies

Summary: If there is anything you know, any fact that is central to the foundation of your life, there is only three.

Fact #1: Taehyung is a hopeless romantic. You are the complete opposite.

Fact #2: You are his bestfriend.

Fact #3: You are in love with him.

... Not that you’ll ever admit the last part though.

❤ Of Second Choices and Spring Air

Summary: All you wanted was to be someone's first choice. All Jungkook wanted was for you to choose him. Love is never easy, but when your last relationship ends horribly and you give up on everything related to those four letters, he makes it his mission to show you that there's always been someone waiting for you to choose him, if you'd only give him a chance.

❤ Of Reunions and Drifting Waves

Summary: Park Jimin is someone you swore you'd get over, but years later, when you meet up again in your hometown, the town festival forces you two to keep each other close. Tensions rise when his friends and your friends keep setting you two up, but it's not like anything would ever happen. After all, you'd moved on from him, and he'd never even looked at you that way, right...?

⭐ Sugar, Spice and Everything Nice

Summary: Stepping into the world of sugar babies was something you never expected- moreso being a 'sugar mommy'. However, fate had decided to give you seven men as 'sugar babies'...

What do you do when you're a 'pure' virgin, and your adoptive family wants to set you up with someone to obtain access to your inheritance? Prove them wrong by presenting your dating history, of course! Complete with your own romantic partner- and if you can't get one on short notice (not owing to your inexperience), well... money may have brought you into this trouble, so it's only fair you use it to get out, right?

⭐ A Witch’s Soul(mate)

Summary: Being a witch meant being a supernatural, it meant discrimination and fear and wariness, so you've always kept it hidden, acted as though you were a normal human- until an outburst of your powers sets events into motion, one that forces you to accept your powers- or risk losing everything. You never asked to be bound to a human, and Jimin never expected being connected to a witch- but together, you might just survive and grow.

⭐ tweet with luv

Summary: Confessing to your bestfriend, when you’re sure he doesn’t feel the same way? Bad.

Vague tweeting about your crush on your bestfriend online, for the whole world to see, when you're an award-winning actress with no previous relationship scandals, and he's the golden maknae of the biggest kpop group in the world? So. Much. Worse.

⭐ The Kindergarten Agenda 🌠

Summary: Teaching preschool wasn’t exactly what you signed up for when you applied to be a teacher at Bighit School, but you quickly find yourself falling for the job. It doesn’t hurt that your students are absolute sweethearts, no matter how others seem to see them as demons. If the way that they cling to you is any indication, they feel the same way too. You’re their precious teacher!

And then starts the war when they realize you’re not in a relationship. Who better to be your partner than their older brother slash father slash cousin?

⭐ Wedding Lace

❤ Satisfied

Summary: Falling in love with Kim Seokjin was as easy as one, two, three- trying to control your feelings and falling out of love with him was another matter entirely. Still, what else was there to do? You may have been his childhood friend, his best friend, the person who's been there for him through his whole life, but your sister still had multiple advantages over you even when she didn’t want them- his heart, for one.

The other being her arranged marriage with him.

❤ Here

Summary: All your life, you'd revolved around Seokjin as though he was the sun- and you, the hapless Earth, so close and yet so far. Then enters Park Jimin in your orbit.

⭐ A Siren’s Call 🌠

⭐ Ten Reasons Not to Kiss Her

⭐ Cursed AUs 🌠

Summary: Or, what happens when you mix children shows and movies with BTS?

One Shots

❤ Sticky Notes, Scribbled Hearts

Summary: By their side the years blur into the sidelines, until all you know is love, laughter, happiness- their existence that consumes you like a fire, bright and wild, burning you down into ashes that barely survive because of the wall you build between you and them. You spend countless nights with your heart bricked and hidden away, but one moment is all it takes- and soon enough, the walls will come crumbling down. But are you prepared to take that chance?

❤ Somewhere Out There 🌠

Summary: Always a little lonely, always a little sad- you send off paper airplanes and hope that if there really is magic out there, your soulmate will somehow read them and come find you.

On the other side of the world, the letters pile up on their doorstep.

❤ Heat Haze Days

Summary: You met Kim Namjoon on August 08, exactly a week before the end of summer break, and he walked out of life August 15, exactly a week after he came into yours. The heat haze of the summer days offer more than hope- it offers you action, opportunities. When time is on your side, anything seems possible- but can you really save someone fated to die?

❤ The 15 Years I Spent Chasing You

Summary: You asked him to keep in contact, to never let your friendship die, so he did. He started writing letters to you- and then he composed poems as you grew up, and then raps until he ran away from home, from everything, but not you, before finally producing songs when he became an idol, every word written with you in mind. Now, fifteen years later, Yoongi finally shares with the world a final piece- the ending to your love story.

❤ The Anniversary

Summary: Your plan with Seokjin was: get married, move in together, appease your parents, divorce. But somehow one month turns into two, then four, and then all of a sudden, a year was fast approaching.

❤ A List of Reasons Why I Hate You

Summary: On your anniversary with him, you look back on the previous years and realize life truly is a rollercoaster.

❤ Spring Days With You 🌠

Summary: To say that fate had connected you with them didn’t seem as silly as much as it felt right. The two months that followed it only proved it as well, and as you fell in love with every place you visited with them, so did you fall deeper for them, and so did they for you.

Untitled Ideas

⭐ 🌠 Summary: Desperate to end the rumours and scrutiny revolving around your love life, you agree to your friends’ help to pretend to be in a polyamorous relationship with them. To you, it’s just a temporary solution, until the gossip dies down, but is it really just that for them too?

⭐ 🌠 Summary: Running a business isn’t something that’s done all alone, what more to start a business. So really, you’re thankful for your friends who decided to help you turn your grandmother’s old greenhouse into a cafe. Still, between your ex and the mysterious love letters that keep appearing in your office, it seems that you’ll need all the help you can get. Can you save the greenhouse and your feelings as well?

⭐ 🌠 Summary: ’Guaranteed to bring you to your soulmates, through time and space if necessary!’ You didn’t think it’d work, but considering in the span of one night you’d gone from one universe into another, you had to accept, even if only to yourself, that maybe the love potion was actually real.

❤ 🌠 Summary: ‘Keep sleeping like that, with your arm hanging off the bed and don’t be surprised when you feel something holding it in the middle of the night!’ Well, you thought, as velvety fingers intertwined with yours, what better way to beat back the lonely night with your very own demon?

❤ 🌠 Summary: Jungkook had stayed by your side as your pet dog for at least ten months- and he was pretty sure that gave him seniority over this new dog who obviously thought he was going to share you with him. Ha, as if.

And then came along five more.

⭐ Summary: Cursed with the ability to see ghosts since you were born, you’d long been resigned to it- and then came Yoongi into your life, and with every touch that kept you connected to him, the ghosts disappeared- and that was all the incentive you needed to cling to him no matter what.

Yoongi just wishes you’d warned him before you decided to steal his heart and forever hold on to it.

❤ Summary: Between school, his unrequited crush on his bestfriend, and the looming threat of his finances, Jimin accidentally summons a demon.

⭐ 🌠 Summary: Your blood was special, or so they said, so you had to help them mediate the world of humans and supernaturals, they said, you had to help them keep the peace and harmony, they said.

You just wished that didn’t entail taking care of seven hybrids. Especially ones that didn’t know how to manage their powers.

❤ Summary: In the beginning of everything, there were them, the gods of Life, and then there was you, the goddess of Death.

⭐ Summary: Because it was just a game, and so you thought that it was okay- it was, wasn’t it? To reach the perfect ending you had to make them fall in love with you, to get home you had to make it just right.

But then, why did the new students remind you so much of them?

#mine #just a bunch of WIP that I like best lol #whether I actually write them or not is high up in the air

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nevergiveupneverrun · 6 years

Text

Bodyguard- Chapter Nine “In another world” Part Two

Hello, I hope you’re all doing great. Here is chapter height of my Story Bodyguard. I’m sorry in advance for the mistakes… English isn’t my first language and I do my best. Here is the link to the previous chapter: Click Here.

I hope you will enjoy this chapter :) 💛

- You are very elegant Owen, announces Amelia in a soft voice, discovering me a few steps in front of her. I touch my tie like a nasty reflex while lowering my eyes. - I didn’t have a suit available… - It fully offsets, you are perfect… I look up as she finishes her sentence finding her look so expressive. - And you are perfect Amelia, replies Jackson by my side. Amelia stares at me for a few moments as if waiting for me to speak, before ending up directing her attention to Jackson. - Thank you… She murmurs these two words as if she were embarrassed by the compliment… a compliment that I would have liked to tell her too, but the words just didn’t come and especially I knew that I could not give myself to this kind of remark… - In any case, you are very well matched both, says April in a smile. The purity of my little Amelia in this beautiful dress and the strength of Mr. Hunt all dressed in black… Ying and Yang… - April, you’re not going to leave in your philosophical passions, reassure me, Amelia continues laughing. - Ha, you should open up a little more to the culture honey… otherwise, apart from my passion, as you say, I honored all my homework as a best friend and found what you asked me… April unveils a case she held in her hand and she holds out to Amelia. Amelia then steps forward to stand right in front of me. - You just miss a little accessory…

She opens the case and without I have tome to recognize what it contains, she goes on tiptoe to place me… a pair of glasses on the nose.

I blink a few times before realizing that it is glasses without correction and that Amelia observes me smiling.

- Did not you tell me it was a model “John Lennon” April?

- That’s what I had on hand, honey. And it suits him very well… very very well, whispers April while looking at me.

I am rather destabilized by this accessory that has just given me, not really an idea of what I look like… and my hand is placed directly on the bow of the glasses, to remove them, and to look at them more closely.

- No, Owen, keep them… in fact, thinking a little more about it, we omitted a detail. The people who are present tonight don’t know you… on the other hand, in the next days or weeks, you may find yourself on pictures by my side…hence this little accessory so that we don’t recognize you in a few days… you don’t blame me, I hope… but apart from the glasses, I didn’t think of anything else…

I was stunned not to have thought of this weakness of our plan myself… she had thought of everything…

- Owen, do not you blame me?

- No, of course not… you’re absolutely right…

- Can we go now, or do you have something else to put on Owen? Jackson suddenly asks jokingly.

I clear my throat, a little embarrassed by the turn of words used by Jackson while April burst out laughing.

- I would have an answer, but I don’t think it would relax everyone, adds April between two laughs.

- Well, I think we’ll go… whispers Amelia, a little overwhelmed by the exchange.

She casts a glance at her clutch bag and then takes hold of a stole resting on the coat rack, which she merely slips to her arm.

Turning, she reveals the back of her dress that confronts me with memories that I had tried to repress…

The back of the dress takes indeed a V shape close to that of the cleavage but in a much more pronounced and low-cut style, which reveals the extent of a skin that I had already been able to look around for a long time.

Jackson opens the door and Amelia follows on Jackson’s heels when I feel a handhold my arm.

I glance at Jackson so that he comes with Amelia in the car…

- April, I will have to go…

- Yes, I know well… I just want… well, take good care of her tonight… I learned about the threats and this reception is so special for her, it could…

She had a serious tone that I didn’t know her and that took me a little short.

- Don’t worry, I will not take my eyes off her.

- And compared to my request a little clumsy, don’t feel uncomfortable… it was just a way to test you both…and I grabbed the signal…

- The signal?

- Yes… I clearly have no chance… and she would be angry to me… I can withdraw when it’s lost in advance… Have a good evening and take care of her.

I give her a smile in response and leave the house by almost running to the car.

The habits lead me to put my hand on the passenger door when I realize that tonight I’m not in the role of the bodyguard but of the partner.

I open the back door and install myself on the backseat that Amelia has placed on the opposite side to leave me the space to sit.

- Do we leave? Asks Jackson turning to us.

- We left, answers Amelia by my side.

The drive is going fast. Few minutes where Amelia informs me of the role I was going to play. Once again, she amazed me by having imagined the character I had to play for this reception… to ensure that we had a common history and that we make no wrong notes. She suggests doing me to pass for a friend guitarist… a profession that does not leave me indifferent, as if fate or her imagination was having fun torturing me. To anticipate the surprise of guest who doesn’t know me, my expatriation would be integrated… and our recent reunion. A meeting that we would have made at the Conservatoire, then kilometers that would have separated us but a friendship remained intact… - I think we went through all the details, right? Amelia then asks me as we enter the parking leading to the restaurant. - Yes, if we had forgotten something, I would manage to improvise with this base… - Okay, I count on you… and don’t forget that tonight you’re not here as a bodyguard… therefore, our attitude must be as convincing as our words… I nod while replacing the glasses I was not used to. - So, I’ll leave you there. Jackson had just parked at the entrance of a small gravel road that led to an imposing wooden building. - Jackson, you stay in the area, I’ll sign you back… - No problem O’, have a good evening both of you. I leave the vehicle first, then turn around and extend a hand to Amelia to help her out. She raises her dress by gathering some parts in one hand, then grabs my hand to rest the feet on the ground, directly releasing her dress which spreads again around her. She smiles shyly at me then takes a look at the frame and the illuminated building in front of us. I let go of her hand while Jackson leaves already a little further with the car. I walk a few steps but my stride slows suddenly when I feel a hand grab my arm. A sidelong look and I recognize Amelia’s little fingers cling to me. She offers me a smile that I answer without thinking.

We walk the few meters separating us from the entrance: entering the lounge, dedicated to the réception, we discover a sumptuous room, adorned with magnificent chandeliers, in the center of which sits a grand piano… and many tables along the walls where a buffet is already in place.

We take the content of the scenery when suddenly, a voice resounds on the side.

- Amelia!

I notice then a young woman, wearing a long red dress, coming towards us.

Amelia releases my arm and embraces the young woman a few moments.

- Good evening Mer! You are beautiful…

- Not as much as you… - The room is superb, thank you for organizing everything, the guests are not there yet? - No, the first should arrive in five minutes I think…

The look of the young woman seems to notice me and she stops in a full sentence.

Amelia turns to me, taking my arm to bring me close to her.

- Yes, of course… you don’t know each other… Mer, I present to you Owen, a guitarist friend, Owen, here is Meredith. Meredith is the queen for organizing events, and she works for me regularly, especially for this reception.

- Nice to meet you, Meredith. - Good evening Owen. Pleased to meet you, it’s amazing that we didn’t meet before. - I came back to the United States, there is little time…

Footsteps in our backs interrupt our exchange, a dozen people entering the living room.

- Ha, excuse me, I’ll take care of the first guests who arrive. Sweetie, take the opportunity to do a little visit, I’ll sign you when it’s time for the speech.

Meredith hurries to meet the people who joined the reception, conscientiously checking the names of people on a list she scribbled as and when.

Amelia quickly guides me to the back of the room and approaches a small platform.

- So, a speech?

- Yes, and I have not prepared anything… I hope improvisation will succeed me… - Spontaneity is often a good method in such moments…

She smiled slightly but I felt a little tense, however, by the event.

I still had no pierced the story behind this foundation but it seemed strongly linked to her past and her own experience.

The next few minutes boil down to a stream of colors, voices, and faces as people march past us to greet Amelia and make her two, three compliments of circumstance. However, she was keen to keep me close to her, guiding me to the people she wanted to approach or spontaneously introducing me to anticipate the questions: she played her rôle perfectly and I tried to be as flawless as she, but fortunately for me, the guests quickly turned their attention away from me to focus on Amelia. We were in the middle of a discussion with a Disney official, a world Amelia knew from what I heard from the conversation… (she had obviously worked on an animated movie and performed the soundtrack)… when my attention goes to the small stage. I see Meredith take place, then touch the microphone before her voice resonates in the room. - Good evening everyone! If you allow us a few minutes of attention, I invite you to welcome the one who organized this reception, and the one that put so much energy for this foundation, Miss Amelia Shepherd! Amelia stops short in her sentence, realizing that the moment of the speech is imminent… while the applause rises around us. She quickly displays a small smile, takes a deep breath, and then walks towards the small stage. I keep watching her, without leaving my place, quickly directed my attention to the room to monitor every move of the guests. The applause fades after a few seconds… and voice sounds. - Good evening everyone and thank you to Meredith who is really the one without whom this reception would not be possible. This event is always special for me and seeing you all in front of me makes me really heart-warming. This foundation « family of heart » is a project a little crazy… I put a lot of energy into it for three years and I am amazed at seeing all the could be achieved… and deeply touched by reading the testimonies of the children who were able to find the warmth of a home, the love of a second family. All this, it’s not thanks to me. It is thanks to you who give regularly, who invest in this cause. It is thanks to all of you who take time, to all the host families, to all the people who are mobilized daily. This reception for me is my way of saying « Thank you » for allowing me to realize an idea that is so dear to me…

I know that together, on our small scale, we make the lives of many children easier, sweeter, more joyful… and I hope that we will trigger all together again and for many years, thousands of smiles and laughter for all those children who deserve this second chance, this new home they except so much.

Thank you all for supporting me and helping them grow and love life! Now, enjoy this beautiful reception!

I remained focused during the entire speech on the room, being slightly shifted to the side, to be less visible… as soon as the applause rises again around me, at the end of Amelia’s speech, I instinctively look for her.

I discover her quickly a few steps from the platform, in conversation with a young man that I had already noticed earlier: Alex Karev, heir to a rich family of donors. I found him a bit insistent in Amelia’s presentations, and I was almost not surprised that he had seized the first opportunity to accost her again… probably to compliment her on her speech.

But what I did not expect was to see him lead Amelia with him… to go to the edge of the piano where a musician had settled and began to let the first notes escape from the instrument… to join some couples already treading the dance floor.

I shyly advance to not take my eyes off her.

I stop after a few steps, having a stunning view of the stage.

I watch this man place his hand in Amelia’s back, then press her a little closer to him and take her into a waltz.

I remain focused on the slightest gestures of this man, on the comings and goings of people around Amelia, ready to react to any alert.

The melody is coming to an end: Amelia escapes from the young man’s arms, politely refuses a second dance, but another man approaches to take the place of the first suitor… leading her into a second dance, while the notes of the piano rise again.

I notice that the first young man observes Amelia with a hint of disappointment and spite in his eyes, before disappearing.

My eyes quickly find the silhouette of Amelia with her second suitor, obviously a little less comfortable on the dance floor than the first. - She always knew how to attract the look to her… A voice resonates on my left and I discover Meredith by my side. - The worst is that she’s not really aware of it, but I see you’re not insensitive… - I had lost her in the room, actually… - Yes, and that’s why you’ve been staring hungrily at her for five minutes…she says smiling. - We are only friends, Meredith, there is nothing more… - Yes, that’s what we all say at the beginning… you seem to be a good guy… Amelia had had a hard time, but she has an impressive strength of character, so advice, be sure of yourself with her… She disappears as quickly as she appeared when a restaurant person makes a sign from the back of the room, leave me alone again in my observation. I redirect my attention to the dance floor, and review the different couple present… but no trace of Amelia. I quickly scan the edge of the buffet look, trying to see her graceful silhouette, but no white appearance to capture my eyes, just spikes of red, black, blue… And then I suddenly feel a presence behind me, associated with an odor that is familiar to me: notes of vanilla and coconut… I turn around and rediscover her in front of me, with a gleam in her eyes. - You know, there is a much more efficient method for not take your eyes off me… My eyebrows are frowning at this remark: I don’t really understand where she wants to come. A hand then slides into one of mine and already pulls me when the words that I missed who finally escaping her. - Just dance with me…

Thank you for reading!

#omelia #omelia fanfiction #omeliafics #greysanatomy #amelia shepherd #owen x amelia #amelia x owen #Owen Hunt #bodyguard #april kepner #jackson avery #meredith grey #alex karev

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naferty · 7 years

Text

So I’ve been writing a little something something during my spare time when I get the sudden urge for the au and it’s also an old writing style I’m hoping I haven’t forgotten.

I won’t upload this anytime soon over at ao3. From just the draft alone it’s looking to be a pretty big piece, and with FP still going on I’m not about to have two working at the same time. I think I’ll fall into a coma if I try.

I’m posting here a bit of a preview for the first chapter, setting everything up for the au. I kind of hope the writing style is distinguishable between my works, but I’ll let you wonderful readers be the judge of that. It would mean the world if you let me know if there’s any difference in the styles, or if this is sounding pretty much the same.

A little info. This is a time-traveling au with Tony jumping back and changing everything. Thanos basically won and this is their last, desperate option. Many things will go into it, but the bottom like, Tony will end up living a new life with a new name and new appearance while trying to prepare everyone for Thanos’ invasion. His ship I haven’t fully decided. It’s looking to be stony, but could easily change to something else, depending on the direction it heads. Winteriron is close, and pepperony will always be referenced in it. Who knows, maybe even a new ship can be born out of this.

There wasn’t much left in the world. Nothing but a barren wasteland. An empty shell of what had once been and what could have been. At least for Tony.

His world had been yanked clean from underneath him. Ripped at the seams with only withered and decrepit stitches hanging in a last attempt to keep whatever’s left together. Tony had half a mind to just yank those stitches and surrender to the inevitable. There wasn’t much left to do. He had already accepted that long ago. His hope crushed and buried along with the remains of what used to be his family.

It had been months since he last heard his name said in a tone of caring and desperation. Months since he had heard “I love you,” and even longer since he last saw the smile of youth before it was burned away in agony. The image of a body who had once been a happy man forever engraved in his mind.

The Mad Titan had come, had saw and had trampled with little resistance. Tony’s nightmare come true, and even after he poured everything he had, all his blood, sweat and fear, his soul, it hadn’t been enough. He only slowed. He never prevented.

The group of individuals who had been brought together to do the impossible, to fight the war nobody else could, to protect the weak and protect the future… had all been for naught. The idea as dead as the trust that had been broken.

Here Tony stood. In the remains of what had once been a beautiful city, carved from its people, its technology and in myth. Left as crumbled as the rubble by his feet. First to be attacked and one of the few places left standing. Wakanda became shelter to many, and yet so few.

He gazed at the landscape. Half the jungle and land scorched. Buildings shortened and lights that had once brought the city alive gone. It was cliche to say it housed the resistance, when they weren’t enough to even call themselves a force. It still stood, thanks to the leadership of a king, and warriors and allies that had managed to push back.

Tony had joined shortly after it became evident they weren’t enough to protect all of the outside world. The reunion as short-lived as the battle that had commenced. The army had been small, giving them false hope that would soon become their downfall. The wrench between them far bigger than they realized, unscrewing the remaining bolts and breaking down their foundation.

They had underestimated and believed themselves capable with only half the strength, when in reality they needed each other, but it had been too late. The holes had been far too large to fill, giving the Titan a chance to pick them off one at a time. Soon they became too few. So many lives lost with more added everyday. Hope dwindled until almost none was left.

Not all gave up, however. Whereas Tony had nothing to fight for anymore, weakened by the years and crushed by the death of his loved ones, others continued the battle. Pointing the direction and leaving him to follow. Should he wish to, all that required of him was to lie down and allow death to embrace him.

The king made sure that was his last alternative. Reminding him there were still lives to keep and allies that needed him. Sometimes requiring a firm hand in order to make him see reason. He has had worse.

So long as there were souls living, he fought. So long as souls lived, hope remained. That hope soon manifested into one last chance. Change the course before it occurred. To change the past for a chance of a future.

Stephen Strange had brought forth the possibility. With the Time Stone already at play what was one more, unrecommended, reality altering break? The threat of time and space collapsing couldn’t be worse than their bleak future brought upon them by a mad, death courter.

“What is to prevent the Titan from simply using the Stones to follow?” T’Challa had asked once Strange had finished explaining.

“This spell comes with faults. There’s a reason why I couldn’t find it until now. It’s only a miracle the book it resided in was still in one piece,” Strange said. “The spell doesn’t simply throw you across time. It cuts all connections. You won’t have a past and you won’t have a place. Your soul is ripped from space itself.”

Tony filed the information away. “What does that even mean?”

“In a sense, you don’t exist. You don’t get affected by any changes in the timeline. If you were to go to a time where you are still a child, get that child killed, you would still remain. You cut all connections to yourself. If you were to go you won’t be able to come back. You’ll no longer have a present and you’re no longer associated with what could have been your future. This spell will break you from the cycle.”

“I see.” This spell would be a one time deal.

“Breaking from time and space will prevent Thanos from tracking or sensing the change. Not even the soul will be found. Whoever agrees will become a ghost to fate.”

Whoever agreed, whoever took up the sacrifice, would erase everything they’ve ever been.

“Free of the consequences of the changes,” T’Challa reiterated, “and yet to forever wander aimlessly through fates plan.”

Tony shook his head. “Fate’s plan had big, tall and ugly come to destroy us all. If that’s what was meant for us I’d rather fate shove it back in their -”

“There are many paths set out for us all,” Strange interrupted. “Our choices decide for us which rode we’d follow. Changing one decision will lead us down a new road, but ultimately have similar or the same results. Someone outside the cycle might be able to cut through those roads with no consequences of the changes to themselves -”

“And lead us to a better future,” T’Challa said.

“Or at least give us a better chance,” Strange finished.

That’s all I’m posting. Did it catch your interest? It’s a little on the serious side, but will be a lot fluffier than it sounds. Main focus is family, Tony learning to forgive and let go, and chances. While it’s fluffy, Tony is a little on the manipulative side, but only to those he hates at first. Then he grows to genuinely care.

Do you see a difference? Or is it about the same style as the rest of my works?

#text post #long text post #naferty writes #forged by my own #is the title of it #as for when i'll post it #if ever #probably not anytime soon

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wellimagine-that · 7 years

Text

Smoke and Mirrors Pt. 2

Summary: The Bat Family prepares to help you finish solve the case you’ve been investigating. After a bitter six months separated from Jason Todd, your reunion might be a bit messier than expected. Part 2 of a series.

Also, for everyone out there about to take/taking finals, best of luck to all of you! You’ll all do amazing things! (:

Part 1

Word Count: 1242

Warnings: Mention of human trafficking.

You wake up to the patter of typing fingers. A disruption. What you make out to be a slurp. The typing gets faster, aggressive but restrained. Tim must be looking at the details of your case. You prefer to work your cases out the old-fashioned way, on paper, in notebooks, so there isn’t much to see in the notes on your computer, which Tim has already hacked into. Once he sees what’s there, he looks at the footage near the park. He begins finding the cars you’ve identified as belonging to the ring. He’s preparing the team for what he thinks you’ll push them to do.

The limited rest you got was full of forgettable fits. Not quite awake, you’re sure of one thing: the Bats will get you into wherever the metas are being held, and get them out before they can be shipped into an unimaginable fate. The case ends tonight. Sitting up, you can feel the stiches in your arm shift. Alfred did a good job, and you can feel the painkillers coursing through your veins. Artificial strength. But you’re used to that.

“Y/N’s up!” You hear Tim call, along with disarrayed footsteps coming clearer into focus.

You swear, your last intention is to make eye contact with Jason. But his eyes are the first thing you see, and you’re stubborn enough to not look away. You can tell he looks angry, but mostly worried. Back when you were together, you could have expected him to give a lengthy lecture at this moment, which you would find immensely hypocritical. He had trained you, after all.

Jason remembered those sweet winter nights in the first few months, after he had revealed himself to you. Under the helmet, he was a warrior with hundreds hours of training that rivaled some of the greatest fighters of the world. When Gotham was cold outside, he would bring you down here, and you would warm your limbs by sparring endlessly. At first, it was easy to tell he was taking it easy on you. When you started to notice he was getting sloppy, you got faster, sometimes even dictating the pace of the fight. After months of sweat, close moments on the mat, and endless practice, you could hold your own. And he knew it.

Hell, he’d even taught you to shoot. Before Jason, you refused to touch a gun, thinking you would probably shoot yourself in the foot. But with his callused hands on your hips, lining up your sight of vision, his breath on your neck, demolishing the target became half the fun. You were a decent shot, and went to the range sometimes to clear your mind of a case and get a better start on a lead. You had learned to steady yourself after the kickback of the pistol without a man’s perfect form behind you. Sometimes you could smell him, filling you with inescapable hope and dread, but eventually decided it was the gunpowder playing mind games with you.

You knew it was reckless to walk on the scene in the park. But you also legitimately believed you had no choice. Your conviction started to wane as you stared into Jason’s hard eyes, so you looked immediately at Dick and explained what you knew. Schedules. Patterns. Locations. Theories. Everything out on the table. It felt good to unload all you had on a team. You had to admit that you had started to get a bit obsessive about this case. Slowing dragging yourself out of a hole you had dug too deep. You could still feel Jason’s eyes pouring into you, almost looking for an opportunity to strangle you during your speech.

It took a few hours before the team was able to come up with a concrete plan. Tim used his connections to track the traffickers down to a warehouse owned by one of Gotham’s most notorious mobsters, and lined the blueprints of the old factory across the screens of the Cave.

“There’s data being sent to a few locations out of the warehouse. It’s encrypted, but the code looks like it was done pretty lazily,” Tim said, and you can already see the way the dots are lining up in his head. He’ll be done organizing the information in minutes. “Looks like most of it is being sent to an office building in the Financial District.”

So, two primary locations. The information on Tim’s screens is overwhelming: data from medical experiments, customers, travel dates. It’s hard to believe that such a small number of meta-humans, (you’ve estimated the group operates with ten at a time) can garner so much information.

Bruce is all business. He can feel the same sense of doom over the abduction of a new metahuman and the group’s new sense of aggression. Already donning the cowl, he splits the team into two as soon as he gets a refresher on the new information you’ve brought to the team. Dick, Tim and Damian will accompany Bruce to the warehouse to break the metas out. When he says that Cass will provide you and Jason cover for entering the office building, you nearly jump of your skin, ready to protest, but Jason beats you too it.

“Bruce, that’s pretty obviously a bad idea. There’s no way in hell I’m walking in with her. She’s unstable.” That’s petty. Even for him. He knows how much that word drives you crazy.

As much as it pisses you off to think that Jason now thinks you can’t handle your own, the urge to prove him wrong has a stronger hold on you.

“I can handle the office building,” you say, with more confidence than you probably should, “with or without Jason.”

That shuts him up. You can practically feel the heat coming off of his skin. You’ve also made the assumption that Bruce wants you to continue collecting information by going straight to the source, and you’re the expert here. Everyone makes their moves to prepare for the ambush, leaving you with Jason.

“I’ll be on my bike in five. If you’re late, I’m leaving without you.”

“Fine. I’ll be there.”

As he walks away, you can see the tension in Jason’s neck. He’s fuming, and the extra anxiety you’ve given him might make him a bit more reckless. You push each other’s buttons nowadays. A year ago, you would have placed a soothing hand across his chest to ease those fears that consumed him. Now, you found yourself a scapegoat for his rage. Then again, you weren’t going to forgive him for what he had done anytime soon.

As Bruce makes the final preparations to lead the rest of the team across the other side of Gotham, you check the condition of your pistol and notice a still figure.

Preoccupied, Red Robin had yet to move. You can see Tim scowl at a large collection of information being sent to a location in England. More than would be necessary for a single buyer. Or even a plethora of buyers. Thousands of files, labeled with names you had never seen before. When he looked at you, you could tell exactly what he was thinking: this operation was bigger than you had thought. With international implications. If there was any night to understand the magnitude of the case, it was in the ambush tonight. And you were prepared to use any amount of force necessary to get that information. Even with the heaviness of Jason’s presence by your side.

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inkognito97 · 7 years

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Vampire dooku scared of the fact he can sense vampire Jocasta nu is coming after him and when she's angry bad stuff happens like shadows forming hands and weapons to subdue her target of anger.

“Lock the doors, raise the guards. I want that EVERYTHING is secured, have you heard me? And ready my ship, I want to leave as soon as possible?”

Confused and scared servants looked at the panicked man. They could all agree on one thing, something was going on and it had to be bad for the usual cold and regal man to get so emotional and ‘uncivilized’ as he called it. Count Dooku was not one to fall into a panicked state, usually he was the only one who kept a calm mind even during the most dangerous situations.

Yan Dooku was everything but calm right now. The Force had revealed to him that his mate was coming to Serenno and the grey haired man wanted to be anywhere but here, when Jocasta arrived. The woman could be truly scary if she wanted to be, but combined with her vampire powers… he did not want to take any unnecessary risks. The best he could do, was flee and hope that his mate either left as soon as she had decided to pay him a visit or that her ire - which he could feel even over their tightly shielded pair-bond - had lessened. Both seemed unlikely to happen in the near future though and the former Jedi was fully prepared to hop for a couple of weeks from one planet to the next. As long as Jocasta would not get her hands on him, everything would be fine.

“Sir?” the questioning voice was full of struggle and fear.

“What is it?” the count snapped. He did not like to be interrupted, especially not for pointless little things.

“A ship has landed near your estate,” he was rudely interrupted.

“What?” for a moment, panicked clouded his judgement. “Who is the pilot? Check, who the passengers were too.”

“There was only one lifeform on the ship, it is an elderly female woman. The guards say, that she has a lightsaber, though she does not look to be a Jedi…” he let the sentence trail off and decided it would be best to back up now, if the look in his master’s eyes was anything to go by.

Yan Dooku stood frozen in the middle of the hallway. His body was paralyzed in terror. He knew that every attempt to run now, would be fruitless, so it might be best, to simply face his fate and let the Force take him.

A loud cracking sound could be heard throughout the whole building and a moment later, the walls shook. The Sith Lord flinched, when screams followed the sounds of destruction. It would be not much longer now until his mate had caught up to him and then… then.. well what then? He did not know what would happen then. Under normal circumstances Jocasta’s Jedi training would kick in, but he could feel that her vampire blood was running amok. There was no holding her back now and in such a condition, she was an unpredictable force of nature. Beautiful, but also deadly.

“Yan Dooku!” the furious yell would undoubtedly be heard far further than his estate. For a moment the Sith Lord thought about taking his own lightsaber and killing himself with it, it would surely be less painful. But it would also be the coward’s way out and he may be much, but NOT a coward, never a coward. With a shaky breath, he eventually accepted his fate and turned to where the quickly approaching footsteps came from and then, he held his breath.

Jocasta Nu looked even worse than Dooku had imagined. Of course he had imagined her to have blood red eyes and that her fangs would be showing, but he had certainly not expected the shadows that were dancing around her body. He knew - of course he did - that this was one of her vampire powers. The shadows were bowing to her will and could form almost anything she could think of and right now, they were forming two giant claws, but enough to hold a gundark at bay with ease.

“Jocasta, my beautiful mate. Time has truly been kind to you, you do look just as magnificent as the last time I saw you,” he tried to awake old feeling she MIGHT still be holding for him. The bond between two mated vampires could only be broken by death, but the love they once held, can vanish.

She hissed loud and dangerously low, before dashing forward. Dooku did not even try to dodge the attack, knowing that he would just anger her more and therefore make it even worse.

The next thing he registered, was pain, followed by the awareness that he was pushed hard against a wall. His mate’s shadows were holding him in place and even if he had wanted to, he would not have been able to get a hold of his lightsaber this way.

“Pretty words won’t help you now, mate,” the last word was spat out in something akin to disgust.

Yan inwardly flinched. “Jocasta, I…

“Silence! I am talking now,” she growled and immediately, the Sith shut up. “have you ANY idea, what you did to me? Have you any idea how much it hurt after you just left, without a goodbye and without giving a reason? Do you even realize what it DID to me, when you were just gone?”

He was expected to answer, but only a small, “No,” escaped his mouth.

“Of course you didn’t!” she screamed, causing the walls to shake. “Because you always cared just for yourself. that’s the reason, why you fell to the dark side, isn’t it? Because of your stupid arrogance.” Her grip on him tightened.

“No,” he wheezed out, “I joined the dark side… because… the Senate is corrupt and… and the Order bow to them.”

“We do NO such thing.”

“But-”

“Don’t interrupt me!” she hissed. “And even if that were the case, have you even CONSIDERED talking to the Council or more specific to your old Master? You know as well as I do, that he would have listened. And do you truly think that you would have been alone? Have you forgotten your family? Have you forgotten me?” There was sadness and grief in her last question.

“Of course I haven’t,” he whispered.

“Then why did you leave?” she yelled.

“I… don’t know,” he said and surprised not only the female Jedi in front of him.

Slowly, very slowly, he was released again and lowered onto the ground. The female vampire before him was still beyond furious, but there was also something else in her eyes, something Yan had not expected to see there, not after all this time, not after all he had done.

“Jocasta…” he hesitantly stepped forward, reaching out with a shaky arm.

She did not pull back, not even when he made contact with her arm and not even, when her mate pulled her close against him. “I’m sorry,” he whispered into her hair.

“Are you?” she did not return the embrace, she did not offer comfort, but neither did she pull back and Yan counted that as a small victory.

“Yes. I regret having left you and Qui-Gon… even Obi-Wan,” admitted the Sith Lord.

“Then why did you do it?” the head librarian would not stop with her questions.

“I wanted to change the galaxy… change the Jedi.”

A moment of silence passed, then the female vampire stated in a calm voice, “You realize that this is not the right way?”

“… I do… now,” he had seen it when Sidious has revealed his true plans. At first, Yan had truly been on the dark man’s side, but at some point, the man had revealed what kind of monster he really way and Dooku had started to doubt his way. The reunion with his mate and the reopening of there bonds were only increasing those doubts.

Finally, Jocasta returned the embrace, though her touch was hesitating. The Sith Lord did not fool himself. There were still matters between them, that were unresolved. But for now, being near his mate, was enough…

#star wars #count dooku #sith!dooku #jocasta nu #docasta #jooku #vampireAU #vampire dooku #vampire jocasta #shadow powers #vampire powers #serenno #prompt #anonymous #my fics

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