#death is temporary once i start to hallucinate

[5a-alf]

Neil really is "when I'm out of spoons it's time for knives" personificated uhu

One of my fav canon facts is that Neil was running on 1h of sleep when he did Kathy's interview. Yeah I wouldn't have any impulse control either in that situation buddy

[wangxianficfinder]

Fic Finder

Aug 24th

~*~

1. Hi! For 3 grueling days I've been on a hunt for a fanfic where Lan Wanji and Jiang Cheng go back in time and change everything! I remember that at one point that WeiWuXian is exposed for hurting himself after Jiang Cheng yells at Jiang Fengmian and Yu Ziyuan for bing shitty parents and runs off crying where he is later joined by Jiang YanLi and WWX. Also that YZY immediately regrets everything along with JFM. And then a disciple says that he's never heard heart wrenching sobs before. Please help. It's a wonderful read. Thank you!!! @makkachinno

FOUND? Brother-In-Law’s by Loveable_Psychopath (M, 332k, WIP, JYL/JZX, wangxian, JC/WQ, canon divergence, time travel fix-it, Memories, Butterfly Effect, Sexual assualt, Self Harm, Self Doubt, BAMF JC, Fluff, Angst with a Happy Ending, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rape Recovery, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, Everyone Lives au, PTSD, good parent YZY, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Depression, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Canon-Typical Violence, Warning: JGS, Emotional Manipulation, Manipulation, Second Chances) chapter 29 for the screaming part and the cying is the next chapter

~*~

2. Hi!! For this fic finder :

Its a fic i read long ago , wangxian was alr an established couple, It was after the canon series had ended i beleive and wwx has an identity crisis abt being mo xuanyu and theres a recurring theme of the burial mounds haunting him and it talks abt his ptsd (specifically I remember of cannibalism? The fic was maybe dead dove too..)

Wwx wld sleep walk aswell and during one of his sleepwalking episodes he didnt recognize the juniors and thought he was a teenager.

In the end i think he revists the burial mounds?

Thank you for the work you put in for the fandom!💗💗 @jnxi839

FOUND? Mud on Your Feet by AvoOwO (Not Rated, 59k, WangXian, JC & WWX, Nightmares, Sentient Burial Mounds, Burial Mounds, Possession, Panic Attacks, Night Terrors, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Good Sibling JC, Hurt WWX, Soft WangXian, Feels, Blood and Injury, Hallucinations, Delusions, JC Loves WWX, Insomnia, Good Sibling WWX, Sleepwalking, Sleeptalking, LWJ just wants to sleep with his husband, Protective JC, WWX Sees Dead People, LJY pulls through, POV LWJ, Cloud Recesses, PTSD, Post-Canon, YLLZ WWX, resentful energy, Fluff, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Thirteen Years of WWX’s Death, WWX’s Three Months in the Burial Mounds, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, WWX is tired, LWJ literally just wants to sleep with WWX again is that too much to ask for??, Soft JC, Yunmeng Siblings Feels)

~*~

3. Please help find fic

Wei wuxian cursed to be close to Lan wanji and stops feeling pain. Open ending. Curse gets progressively worse as fic goes on. They have to stay at an inn during the fic because wei wuxian hurt his foot. @opalkittencat

FOUND? Tether by Annerb (M, 161k, WangXian, Cursed LWJ, Canon Divergence, Post-Sunshot Campaign, Hurt/Comfort, Slow Burn, Angst with a Happy Ending, Pining, Family Feels, Yin Iron, Temporary Character Death, Canon-Typical Violence, aftermath of a war)

~*~

4. hi!! i’m looking for a fic and it’s driving me crazy bc i’ve read it more then once. but it’s a modern au and it starts with llan zhan going on a random date and getting stood up. and wei ying pops up to sit with him and make him feel better since he’s alone. and immediate wangxian love ensues. and at one point point they overhear the guy talking and basically being like “haha that guys so boring i told u he would go out with me. i didn’t even show up.” or something like that. ofc that’s a complete paraphrase but that’s the general vibe of what the guy says . i don’t think the fic was very long. oh! lxc is also very protective in it but i can’t remember how. so sorry this is so vague i rly cant remember more of it. hoping anyone could help 😖 but totally understand if this is not enough info to find it. also tysm for all u do! this blog is so helpful!

FOUND! Blooming Days by Atsushiis (G, 7k, WangXian, LWJ & LXC, LWJ & MM, Modern, College/University, Meet-Cute, First Dates, First Kiss, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, LWJ Has Feelings, Let LWJ talk about his feelings agenda, Romance, Falling In Love, Wangxian are softer than a baby bunny, gratuitous handholding, Give LWJ hugs agenda, LWJ Protection Squad, Spanish Translation Available)

~*~

5. so I remember this ff- it was on Wattpad (idk if y'all do Wattpad) if it was a sort of modern au with WWX as a teacher, one of his students have a crush on him, but he leaves and a sub (Lan Sizhui) is covering for him, I really remember that the class took a field trip to cloud recesses, where they found out about WWX and LWJ. Sorry if it was not so specific. and it is totes find if y'all cant find it, but the cover was sort of a Wangxian modern fanart, if that would help? @bitter-lemonzz

~*~

6. I have been searching for the fic for so long but cannot find it. It was about Wei Wuxian accidentally being pushed into a pond by Lan Wangji and then it's angst. I think Madam Yu was a supportive figure for WWX in this fic. (⁠◕⁠ᴗ⁠◕⁠✿⁠) @yilinglaobunny

FOUND! i won’t say i’m in love by kazzywx (E, 18k, WangXian, rape/non-con, A/B/O, Arranged Marriage, Miscommunication, Angst with a Happy Ending, Omega WWX, Alpha LWJ, skippable NSFW scenes, wwx’s is basically meg from hercules with his “i wont say im in love” shtick, Hurt WWX, Boypussy, WWX Has a Vulva, Intersex WWX, Dubious Consent, Feminization, Mating Bites, Vaginal Sex, Vaginal Fingering, WWX Has a Fear of Dogs, Mpreg, WWX & WQ Friendship, WWX & WN Friendship, Possessive LWJ)

~*~

7. Hey, someone told me that you could help me find this fic. It's a short story...might be a one shot where after the canon wwx sets wen ning up on various dates and at the end wen ning finds 'the one' that he tackles (if I'm not wrong) because of some misunderstanding. Also I think the final male character that wen ning shows interest in is from another famous fandom. It's all sweet and cute. Please if you know this story or can find this story, let me know...I've been searching for a long time. Thank you so much! You are doing an amazing job❤️ @madarmy

~*~

8. Hi! I am looking for a specific canon au fic where soulmates are announced by an angry goose. Like, literally, when soulmates meet a goose pops up out of nowhere and heckles them until they recognize (? fall for?) each other. I think it was during the Cloud Recesses Lectures and Lan Qiren kept getting interrupted because geese kept popping up between the students. I remember honking geese breaking the quiet and calm of Cloud Recesses :D

FOUND? 🔒💖 No Matter What I Do I Feel The Pain (With or Without Goose) by Trickster_Angel (T, 3k, WangXian, Soulmates, The Soulmate Goose of Enforcement, Crack, Not tagging animal abuse but they have to fight off the geese, Not Serious, Humor, First Kiss)

~*~

9.Hi! So, I've looking for this fic that take place when wei ying is in the burial mounds with the wens and decides to end his life, and wen ning is the one that tells lan zhan of it, and he has a panic attack? anxiety attack? and it leads to everyone helping the wens while they grief ... (sorry if there is misspelling, second language) @belenleal2111

FOUND? To Offer a Heart by WhiteCrane (M, 111k, WIP, wangxian, major character death, Sad WWX, Hurt WWX, YLLZ WWX, soft wangxian, Cinnamon Roll WN, WWX Whump, WQ is a good sister, WN is a good brother, everybody loves wwx, yunmeng siblings, Triggers, Suicidal Thoughts, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Fluff, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Heavy Angst with a Happy Ending, Taking care of WWX, Give WWX a break, Canon Divergence, Disturbing Themes, Changing Perspectives, Eventual Smut, Eventual Romance, Grief/Mourning, Temporary Character Death, Getting Together, Redemption, Sibling Bonding, Marriage, Marriage Proposal, Brotherly Bonding, Brotherly Love, Brother-Sister Relationships, Parent-Child Relationship, Sad and Sweet, Tragedy, BAMF WWX, BAMF JC, BAMF JYL, BAMF WQ, Slow Burn, Slow Build, Everyone Needs A Hug)

~*~

10. hello! I hope you're doing well 🌷 I'm looking for a fic where female! WWX is getting married to the second son (Lan Zhan) of the esteemed Lan family who are well known tea merchants. Nie Huaisang is female too. Uncle Jiang arranges this marriage for Wei Ying. The fic starts with Uncle Jiang saying "Wei Ying, I accepted a marriage proposal for you you're getting married next month". Jiang Cheng keeps saying UNKIDNAPPABLE! because that's why the Lan Clan extended a marriage proposal to Wei Ying cos she's impossible to kidnap. WWX and LZ don't know each other prior to this. They have a summer wedding and the makeup auntie puts 3 layers of thick white face powder on WWX's face and tells her not to touch her face after which wei ying immediately feels the need to scratch her face off. Lan Zhans hand is a bit damp when he helps WWX into the palaquin cos it's hot as balls and he's sweating under 3 layers of robes. Wei Ying said she can't wait to become a dowager cos she'll get to wear clothes that are her style (darker). Someone tells wwx to not stand up too straight and she folds into an exaggerated slouch and then yelps and straightens up again when MianMian (her handmaid) slaps her butt. Sorry, that's all I remember! Thank you please help me find this 🙏🏼 @darkchocobun-blog

FOUND? a harmony between qin and se by Alaceron (E, 62k, WangXian, Gender Changes, Historical, Female WWX)

~*~

11. Hi Mods! I am looking for a wangxian fic with these details:

-YilingWei Sect wangxian AU

-WWX takes MXY and his mom (Mo WeiYa) away from Mo manor to keep them safe but he has to go to Koi Tower for some reason about Meng Yao...

-Mo WeiYa imprints on JGY and makes WWX take him back too and treats him like a kid

-there was also a part where WWX said something about taking MXY under his wing and LWJ assumes he's gonna marry his mom and adopt MXY but ofc he was wrong

-JGY later becomes his deputy in his sect despite WWX trying to find a different one...yes JGY was corrupt before and WWX doesn't trust him.

-it was a multichap (I think) and complete (I think). Help?

FOUND!🔒 if you can’t beat them, recruit them by moeblobmegane (T, 228k, Wangxian, NHS & WWX, WWX & WQ, Time Travel Fix-It, Conspiracy, Spies & Secret Agents, Team as Family, Found Family, Burial Mounds, Temporary Character Death, Canon-Typical Violence, Pining, Morally Ambiguous Character, Rumors, Politics, Developing Friendships, Good Uncle LQR, Demonic Cultivation, YilingWei Sect)

~*~

12. This is an odd ficfinder request, but I remember there was a VERY long fanfic I read a while ago on AO3 where the author gave the Meishan Yu a motto that went something like "We remember what is owed." I thought it was "Things to do with Flute During Wartime" but I can't find it in there. Anyone have any ideas? Thank you for ALL you do, mods! <3 <3 <3 @kimboo-york

FOUND! could be any of a few by stratisphyre but is likely the exploration of a courageous heart (all this unexpected glory) by Stratisphyre (T, 54k, JYL/LXC/NMJ, Canon Divergence, Not Everybody Dies, (but some canonical character deaths), Childhood Sweethearts, Arranged Marriage, Threesome - F/M/M, Kidfic, Hurt/Comfort, JYL Best Jiejie, Friends to Lovers, Sibling Feelings, Not JFM friendly, Enormous Amounts of Head Canon, Multiple Pov, Canon Typical Violence, Implied Past Abuse)

NOT FOUND! the other long stratisphyre fic with that Meishan Yu motto as a line in the fic is in stillness, clear water to the bottom by Stratisphyre (T, 40k, CSSR/WCZ/LQR, LQR & Madam Lan, LQR & WWX, Sect Leader Nie/NHS's Mother/NMJ's Mother, Canon Divergence, Time Travel Fix-It, Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Canon-Typical Violence, Threesome - M/M/F, Getting Together, Friends to Lovers, Everyone lives, (mostly), (not you QHJ), Family feelings, Madam Lan lives, references to past rape)

~*~

13. trying to find a specific fic! it's a modern au roommates-to-lovers. the most specific thing I can remember is that Jin Zixuan is the one who asks Lan Wangji to let Wei Wuxian stay in his spare room. thanks in advance! @strinak

FOUND? ❤️ the best of you by sysrae (E, 41k, WangXian, XuanLi, Modern AU, College/University, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Mutual Pining, Getting Together, slightly undernegotiated kink, but in a very soft and consensual way, Nightmares, Panic Attacks, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, JFM and Madam Yu’s A+ parenting, Dysfunctional Family, Mental Health Issues therapy is good actually, the most tender of railings, Reference to animal attacks/animal cruelty, descriptions of past violence)

~*~

14. Hi! In 2021 (approx) I read a fanfic where Lan zhan tries to save, (through a simulation that has Wei Ying's soul) wwx but always fails in the attempt, it is not until Wei Ying becomes aware of this and both confess to each other, that they manage to save everyone and wangxian stay together until old age and the time of his death as companions. However, this occurs within a simulation and wangxian says goodbye. The fic ends with Lan zhan leaving his seclusion but with his mind at peace knowing that he had a chance to be at peace and happy with his love and is ready to raise a-yuan.

I remember reading this on Wattpad and in Spanish. But I always wondered if it was on ao3 and it was actually a translation. Please, if you have any information I would be happy to read you. Saludos

Pd: Sorry for Google traslate

Enviar comentarios @ppninonom

FOUND? my apple tree, my brightness by trickybonmot (E, 5k, WangXian, Science Fiction, Angst, Not A Fix-It, Not a Time Loop Either, sweaty sex, sweat as lube, Come as Lube, But don't worry they're cultivators, LWJ's Regret, LWJ in Seclusion, Hopeful Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Not a ton of comfort but some!, Grief, Healing, [Podfic] my apple tree, my brightness by shash_reads (sunkitten_shash), [Podfic] my apple tree, my brightness by nonminus (nonplussed))

~*~

15. Hi. I saw this ao3 fic on twitter but it refreshed before I could save, I only remember a few tags it was a wangxian case fic where they look after three ghost children, I guess it was The Untamed post canon fic. Can you help? Thank you.

FOUND? a home carved of love by omegawangji (T, 12k, WangXian, Case Fic, Post-Canon, Child Abandonment, Past Child Abuse, Accidental Baby Acquisition, wangxian adopt ghost (corpse?) babies, Soft WangXian, Family Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Pining LWJ, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, WangXian Get a Happy Ending, Good Parents LWJ and WWX, Found Family, Getting Together, First Kiss)

~*~

16. For fic finder: Hello! I am looking for a canon-au fic where Wei Wuxian was able to use demonic cultivation to create shadow copies of himself, kind of like Naruto shadow clones. He used this to fight in the Sunshot Campaign and there was a cool scene where he took down a Wen supervisory office all by himself by having a ton of hims fight each Wen soldier. There was also a scene where he dueled with Jiang Cheng and Jiang Cheng had to cut down all of the clones before finding the real Wei Wuxian. I think this technique caused his soul to shatter after death, but I could be wrong/confusing multiple fics. Thank you for your help!

~*~

17. Fic finder request plz!! It’s a fem Wangxian in an omegaverse setting where Alpha NMJ has Alpha LWJ visiting and they invite WWX over. I remember at the end, LWJ came into the kitchen to get fancy water for WWX and wanted to know what snacks she liked. I can’t remember anything else. 😭😭😭

FOUND? good friends by plonk (Not Rated, 11k, NMJ/WWX/LWJ, WangXian, Modern, Gender Changes, A/B/O)

~*~

18. Hi!! It's my first time asking here!! I've been trying to find a fic where wwx makes the cultivation world forget abt the wens and him, and by consequence the baby lwj is pregnant with!! I will be so grateful if u guys could help me find it!!

FOUND! could be this threadfic (locked to followers)

~*~

19. Hi, there's this one canon divergence fic I read where WWX inevitably becomes part of the Burial Mounds and has become pretty vampire-adjacent and he thinks of himself as a monster. When LWJ finds out, there are multiple times in the story where he cuts his hand/arm and pours the blood in a bowl so WWX could "eat."

At some point in the story it's revealed that WWX was transported to Diyu before he died and yeah. At Wangxian's wedding he invites the overlord(?) of Diyu and even tho he didn't go, he was amused by the invitation and sent someone else to be there for him LMAO 😭😭

Can you please help me find this fic? I also highly rec it! Thank you!

FOUND!🔒A Heart Undying by NonsensicalRambling (M, 114k, WangXian, Undead WWX, Canon-Typical Violence, canon-typical dead things the burial mounds, Fix-It of Sorts, Canon Divergence, Eventual WangXian, No Yīn Tiger Seal, Morally Gray WWX, Animals Eating People, WWX's questionable choices, Morally conflicted LWJ, Oblivious WWX, WWX Creates a Sect | Yiling Wei, YLLZ WWX, Sect Leader WWX, LWJ & WQ have an Understanding)

~*~

20. fic finder req: a really sad post canon fic. it's a hurt/no comfort sick fic, where lwj falls ill with what eventually turns out to be a terminal illness (maybe a blood curse of some sort?). I think lwj falls unconscious at some pt, and they use the incense burner to spend lwj's last moments tgt with family and wwx. wx tries and fails to find a cure for it, and only succeeds many years after lwj dies, working closely w the gusu healers. the fic ends with them meeting in the afterlife, where lwj has been waiting for wwx. I've tried all the tags I could think of, but it's lost among my countless bookmarks... i haven't been able to find it and I'm worried it's been taken down. please help!

FOUND! I will be gone by seachronicles (M, 28k, WangXian, Angst, Sickfic, Hurt LWJ, Hurt WWX, Sick LWJ, LWJ Whump, WWX Whump, Hopeful Ending, Hurt/Comfort, but a lot of hurt, Post-Canon, Established Relationship, Grief/Mourning, Reincarnation, POV LWJ, POV WWX, Sad WWX, Sad LWJ, Married WangXian, Major Illness, Implied/Referenced Sex, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, but very briefly)

~*~

[shini--chan]

hiya!! hope you’re having a good day, could i request 1p! and 2p! canada’s reaction to when their s/o finally gains enough of their trust to cook for them— only for them to try to poison their food? i know its oddly specific my bad lol

Don’t worry, it isn’t bad, or too specific. I wrote it gladly. 

Trigger warnings: poisoning, body horror, temporary character death, descriptions of corpses

Yandere 1p! & 2p! Canada - Sweet Lilly-of-the-Valley

Native to woodland areas, Sweet Lilly-of-the-Valley blooms in spring. The sprays of white bell-like flowers are sweet smelling and the resulting fruit take the shape of bright red berries. In the language of flowers, it symbolises happiness. It is often used in wedding bouquets and to make perfumes. Due to the high concentration of cardenolides, it is highly toxic. 

1p Canada

Sweat made your shirt stick to your torso in an uncomfortable manner, yet you were too tired to take it off, not to mention putting on a new one. You leaned back against the cool tiles of the bathroom wall and closed your eyes. Now, you just wanted to curl up where you were and fall asleep. You were so exhausted, both in body and in soul, that you thought you could sleep for a few days straight, damn the corpse that was in the other room.

Matthew's death had been surprisingly violent, something that you hadn't expected from a poisoning. Poison - you had just murdered somebody. It felt surreal, and the mere thought of it made your stomach twist and your limbs feel heavier than they were. It wasn't like it was a cold blooded crime that you had just committed, so why were you feeling so guilty?

Had you developed Stockholm Syndrome, between all the restrictions and isolation and coercion? Perhaps you had started to believe your captor again, when he explained that he was ruining your life because he loved you? It was twisted and fitted all too well into the mess that your life had become as of late. 

Talking of mess, you'd have to deal with the dead body at the other side of the bathroom door sooner or later. The vomit and blood that littered the living room floor would also have to be cleaned up, as well as the ash that he had tried to eat before he had become too weak to move. 

"I didn't think you had it in you."

Your eyes snapped open and you lazily turned your head in the direction of the voice. Matthew was standing in front of you, looking exactly as he had just minutes after his death. Since you hadn't heard footsteps or the door opening, this was probably just a hallucination conjured up by your overworked brain. 

"You always underestimated me, so the joke is on you", you shot back. If you were going to have a chat with the deceased, best play along and let off some steam. "For somebody that always complained of being seen as weak, you had the surprising tendency to underestimate those around you."

The corpse tilted its head in an eerie mockery of a living person. With his unearthly pallor, it looked like somebody was manipulating the head of a porcelain marionette. 

"So many spiteful words. Why couldn't you tell me about your problems before?"

At that, you snorted. Such a statement was rich coming from him. 

"I tried to tell you often enough, but you never listened. You always just brushed it off as me being childish. But now that you are dead, I don't have to worry about such things anymore."

Matthew grinned at that, exposing white teeth covered in blood. In death, his appearance suited his hidden vileness.

"Are you really sure that I'm dead?"

Since Canada would want nothing more than a "decent" relationship with you, the poisoning would actually catch him unawares, granted that you're not extremely sloppy. So he would die. Before that, he would put up a fight and do his best to get an antidote or some other countermeasure, as soon as he realises what is going on. Should he still be capable of speech, then he'll try to guilt trip or manipulate you into saving him. 

As a nation, he wouldn't stay dead for long. Once he revives, he'll scare the living daylights out of you. He wouldn't have wanted to reveal his innate nature this way, but since you would have left him with no other choice, he'd elect to use the opportunity to his advantage. The ensuing punishment would be harsher than any proceeding one.

2p Canada

The moment he disappeared to go to the toilet was the moment you chose to act. Quickly, you removed the flowers from the vase and poured some of the water into his half-empty beer. To cover your tracks, you poured some of the beer that was still in the bottle into the glass and the rest went down the drain. The Lily-of-the-valleys were returned to the vase, just in time as well.

 A few seconds later, James strode over the threshold and plonked down at the dining table. You had your back turned to him, and busied yourself with the food on the stove. Or tried to, because your hands were trembling and your heart was in your throat. 

You watched his reflection in the window and took deep breaths. James had picked the magazine he had been reading and resumed where he had left off. After a few minutes, he reached for his beer. Upon seeing that you had refilled it for him, he let out an appreciative grunt and a curt "Thanks." and placed the glass on his lips. A usual interaction - you didn't bother replying. 

The feeling of fear soared when you noted his frown, and how he looked at the glass in his hand with suspicion. He spat the beer out and fixed an angry glare at you. Before he could go on a triade, you took the initiative:

"You are darn rude, spitting stuff like that out. How old are you again? Four?"

Now, you turned around to face him. The best defence is offence, after all. 

"Hello pot, I'm kettle", he snarked. "What the blazes did you put in my beer?"

Unlike his 1p counterpart, James would be very cautious when it comes to you. While he would gladly embrace a more loving relationship, he wouldn't let his guard down. To him, it would just be the quiet before the storm. Additionally, he would be quick to taste most poisons you'd manage to get your hands on, being a trained nature conservationist. 

As such, he wouldn't feel betrayed when you finally do show your colours. Though, on top of your punishment for trying to kill him, you'd get a punishment for being cunning. If there is one trait he hates above all else, then it is cunning. 

[themochiverse]

The Monster in the Dark | JJK

Banner credits go to the talented @gfxstdio

➳Pairing: yandere!sleep paralysisdemon!jjk X fem!Reader

➳Genre: Yandere, Angst, Horror

➳Warnings: Yandere themes, horror cuz its scary, sorta supernatural stuff happening? Sleep paralysis [like a ton of episodes], scary shit- Jungkook is a horrific menace, swearing, lots of whispering, unknown deep voices, creepy shadows, mental manipulation, NON-CON kissing, NON-CON touching (Nothing sexual happens), choking, suffocation, assumption of death, mentions of death, attempted murder, threats, medication (Sleeping pills), bruises, emotional breakdown, hallucinations & just monster stuff that monsters do during sleep paralysis 😶‍🌫️

**Note: Sleep Paralysis does not cause death, it's only temporary for a while and not permanent. I have researched beforehand so do not come at me if you think I have stated something wrong also bcz this shit has happened to me, so yeah.

➳Synopsis: Sleep paralysis is a common concern for everyone, but once your episodes start to become more frequent, you meet a horrid monster. A horrid monster who has only come for you to join him in his world. You can't run, you can't hide, but you can only watch whatever the hell is going to happen to you right now.

➳Word Count: 9.6k+

➳Disclaimer: This fanfic is purely from my imagination, I do not intend to harm any Idol or person in any way. Nor sexualising them. Please do not steal any ideas from here, this is all of my work and original work. I DO NOT CONDONE THIS BEHAVIOUR IRL.

The Monster in The Dark ©Copyright -2023- themochiverse

-All Rights Reserved

No part of the story can be copied, reproduced, redistributed or transformed into any other form. Meaning no photocopying, recording whether written or electrically. No methods are allowed that uses anything from this fic. This follows in the permitted Copyright Law. All images and videos go to their rightful owners.

A/N: This was sitting in my drafts for a while so here it is, finally. Also I met my demon 😬

A/N 2: Holy shit, this was so hard to write.

Permanent Tag-list: @minshookie29 @6tslovr @proflyndo @pinkcherrybombs @xanslii @papijiminfeed @justanotherstarlightmonger @kittykatfey @princess-sunshyn @jinniesjoon94

If you would like to be added, ask/join here!

“Shh, you know you can’t scream…”

You breathe laboriously, your muscles start to ache and the nippy air enveloping you makes you want to writhe in your bed. But you can't. Your limbs are frozen, and you are unable to move as if you're stuck in place. You can see your whole room, but you're skeptical about whether or not your eyes were open. Oh god, this was another episode. What was it now? The third time this week? 

You try to move a finger or two, but it felt like you were trapped. Your breathing is mute, even if you opened your mouth to utter a single word, it wouldn't come out. You needed to move, it felt so unnatural and dangerously ominous to feel this way. A true feeling of helplessness. 

Wake up

Wake up

You close your eyes, endlessly telling your mind to wake up. Lord no, you needed your body to be attentive, yet your mind was already aware of everything occurring. You had to try harder. You do everything in your ability to move one muscle, just to move one inch so you can be awake properly. 

Come on...

You're urging yourself to move any part of your body, whether it be your head, legs, or arms. You just needed to move something to get out of this horrid episode. 

Just before you’re able to move the tip of your fingers, you catch the sound of your bedroom door, it deliberately creaks open and a lanky, jet-black shadow stands there. It whispers things you can’t discern, and a ring fills your ear like a bomb that has been blasted, the silence crawls in your skin tenaciously, and your breathing gets abrupt. You can see the silhouette appearing closer, you can feel it. Then, with one last impulse, you’re able to move your fingers that soon form into a fist as you wake up.

You come around alive, and not paralysed. You unhurriedly, start to shift your hands and legs, and you feel relieved. You sit up, body angling to the bedroom door as your perpetual breath could be heeded. This was your first encounter of witnessing a shadow, not any ordinary shadow, a sleep paralysis shadow.

Though luckily it hadn’t come excessively close to you, it intimidated you. Its imminent figure just gawking you suffer in cessation was so unforgiving and memorable about how these merciless things were just here to give their victims a slight push to the edge. To let them know, that in the real world no one could stop them. No one.

You could hear the faded chirps of birds, your room was slightly dingy but some light eluded through the curtains, suggesting it was early morning.

As much as you would love to sleep more on a weekend, you decide to get ready for the day since you also had to attend a breakfast party, personally invited by your ex-best friend Seulgi. She had been nagging you all week to stay free just so you both could have some breakfast together. It wasn’t at her house though, it was at some café. It also wasn’t just so you guys ‘could have breakfast together’ it was to catch up after not seeing each other for a while.

When you go to the bathroom to get fresh and wear your clothes, Seulgi starts texting you to come over soon.

Seulgi 👑 8:37am

Hey Y/N, come soon, I’m already here.

You 8:38am

Yeah, I’m just getting ready, send me the address again? [seen]

Seulgi 👑 8:38 am

12 Burrow Street (Café Triton)

You 8:39 am

Thx, coming soon bae [seen]

You drop your phone onto your bed, your hands finding their way into your brushed hair. You can’t stop thinking about it, you can’t stop thinking about the shadow that was just there, gawking at you. It’s not real though, it’s just part of human imagination. Well, that’s what the experts say. Ignoring your repetitive thoughts, you grab your things and leave to meet Seulgi at the café.

The warm breeze unravels on your shoulders, the day nice and bright for any event. You drove by peaceful streets as the sun gushed its tenderness everywhere. You soon stop by the café Seulgi was at, eyes prowling for a parking spot. Damn, it was hella busy today, you reckoned.

As you were glimpsing for a spot, your thoughts lingered on Seulgi. You were best friends since freshmen year, having the heaviest bond any best friend would have. You both used to take it easy all the time, conversing past midnight, and sneaking out to parties. Gosh, those times were gorgeous, but as time flew your friendship promises were long gone, and the division of moving away to another whole country shattered your bond.

The impression of meeting her after so long carves you doubt the relationship you two have now. Your hands squeeze the steering wheel, knuckles turning white when you hesitate to turn around and go back home. Yet, it would be so insensitive and overwhelming to just leave like this.

“Fuck it,” you mumble as you turn the key to turn off the engine. Clutching your purse you slam the car door, making your way over to the café. When you strut towards the quiet shop, you instantly recognise the long, silky black hair.

Resting on top of her hair was a red beret, at first it looked like a cherry but a squashed one with its stem just sprouting out again. The accessory matched with her red coat, all buttons unbuttoned revealing her black checkered top. A black skirt hugged her legs, flimsy edges falling onto her knees.

Seulgi

There she was, reclining outside, absorbing the breeze that was dancing away. You stood there as still as a statue, interesting thoughts consumed that no non-living thing would have. You breathe in and out like you've run a marathon and just came last place. Honestly, you weren't much the athletic type.

Your heels clack against the wonky road when you cross, and once Seulgi obtains your attention, you wave at her like you waving at a small child who came running to you.

This was so stupid.

You come up to her foreseeing a hug, after all, it's been more than 4 years. But, the girl just sits there, expecting you to not be that friendly. You sit on your seat, hands clasped on your lap. Seulgi gapes at you, and you stare back. It's been 4 years since you've met face-to-face, and talking to her now? It felt awkwardly problematic.

She analyzed you up and down, and the insides of your stomach churned in a growling matter. You squint a bit out of irritation, but you weren't sure if it was for the pang or if you were ravenous.

The breeze whirled past your ear, whispers humming away in the wind. You sit upright, ready to strike it all to start the conversation.

"I-"

"I've missed you!" Seulgi exclaims, scooting closer to the coffee table. "You have no idea how right you were Y/N, I was such an idiot for leaving you!" The words slowly start to cure the hole in your heart, her words were medicine to you as they filled you up with infinite happiness.

She suddenly clasps your hands, squeezing them when she mutters the next words.

"Please forgive me, I should have never left a friend like you." Your eyes glistened with tears, the way she said it, with passion and honesty, you finally felt that your best friend was here. Even after all the unpromising events, Seulgi finally realised her mistakes, and she accepted her wrongdoing.

You went in to pull in a hug but that all shattered when a hand waved at your face.

"Y/N? Hello, are you even here?" The tone was what made you snap out of everything. Fuck, what the fuck were you doing?

The hand continues to wave at you when you stop it from moving any further. Seulgi snatches her hand away, exasperating a loud purposeful sigh.

“I was asking how you were?” Seulgi raises an eyebrow as she fixes her beret.

“Good, I’ve been good, you?”

“Better, actually,” she suppresses a smile before nodding her head gently.

“So how are things going at-”

“Shall we order first? I’ve been waiting for a while and I’m hungry.” Her cutting you off startled you a bit, but you complied.

“O-oh, yeah sure.” Her manicured nails grip the menu on the wooden table, her eyes skimming past numerous types of breakfast options. You do the same, looking for something light and enjoyable. Aha, two buttered croissants, a side of fresh strawberries and a cappuccino coffee sounded nice.

“Have you picked?” Seulgi questions, neatly putting the menu away.

“Yeah I have, how about you?”

“I decided the minute I touched the menu,” she sighs again, almost sounding annoyed. You nearly frown, but you hide it when she glances at you and calls for the waiter.

“I’ll pay by the way, I don’t want to hear it from you.”

“What do you mean? It’s been years Seulgi, at least let me do something.” Seulgi rolls her eyes in response, before turning to you again.

“Y/N, please don’t pay, let me do it.” She emphasised the ‘me’, her tone was like a volcano erupting. You scoff, moving closer to the table.

“Why? Is it because you think I can’t pay for the both of us?”

“Y/N, I thought we talked about this.”

“Seulgi, what is up with you? You decide to invite me for some breakfast after not seeing each other for more than four fucking years and you’re not willing to let me pay?”

“It’s not that, I just thought it would be better if I did it, and stop overreacting for god sake.”

“I’m not overreacting, you left me Seulgi, you practically left me to save your huge ass ego.” You nearly jump at her, people walking by side eye you both.

"Y/N, not here." She growls, avoiding the looks people were passing by.

“Y/N, you need to understand that I had to do it-“

“Here you go with the same excuse again, why did we even meet up in the first place?” And there goes the deafening silence, and you knew you hit the bell this time.

“Yes, you're right, why did we even meet when we both knew there wasn't going to be a happy ending?” The words rattle your heart and it felt like a mini earthquake was going on in there.

How could she just say that? How could she just expect everything to go normal after she left you during your most difficult time? When she knew everything beforehand, she just decided to leave you and move on with her own life. You didn’t even know back then that she had gone until her parents told you where she had went. It nearly broke your heart, like a nail being hammered repeatedly.

“You’re still taking those pills, aren’t you? That’s why you’re acting like this.” You momentarily freeze, eyes widening in shock and disbelief.

“What the fuck Seulgi? I stopped taking them fucking months ago.”

“Then why are you acting like this? Why-“

“Why are YOU acting as if everything was going to be normal when we met up?” Seulgi opens her mouth again but you don’t let her talk.

“You’re doing this to show your other friends, isn’t it? To show that you miss your dearest best friend and that you’re such a kind soul to be with.”

“Fuck, Seulgi I've seen your posts, you’re just doing this to show them, I'm not that stupid.” Your voice cracks when your own words hit you like a truck. This was really stupid. You get up to leave, not wanting Seulgi to see your warm tears trickle down your cheeks. The chair screeches when you prepare to walk away, a hand grasps your arm.

"Y/N, listen I am so so so sorry, but you have to believe me please. I swear it's not for them, I am sorry for leaving you, I am sorry for being so rude to you, I am so sorry that I was not being the best friend I was meant to be." The words shake your heart even further, it was too late, you can't accept the apology when she might just do the same thing again.

Should you? Or, should you not?

It was a risky decision, but was it going to be worth it? Was she just apologising because people were staring at the commotion? Or was it truly coming from her? The real Seulgi?

"I'm sorry." And with that said, you leave, her hand slipping away. You've taken so many decisions in life, but you never had thought of making this one.

You reach the parking lot, hands fumbling to find the keys. The door snaps and silence hits the air again, the replay of her apologising was giving you a headache. You were not prepared for god's sake, why did you come? The emotions start to pour out of nowhere, and your eyes start to become red, brimmed with water. Out of nowhere, you bite your fist, teeth digging into your skin leaving prints of faint, red marks.

You should have just gone back to bed.

"Shit, why did she even want to meet up if she was gonna behave like some stuck-up bitch?" The disgusted tone rolled off your sister's tongue, venom spitting out as she scrunched her eyebrows in anger. You were sitting on a stool, legs crossed in comfort as you murmured, "I don't know."

The abrupt argument with Seulgi lingered in your mind, and you had decided to drive to your sister's place. To knock it off and forget it ever even happened.

"What else did she say?" Your sister takes a seat across from you, sitting down to hear you out, to listen. Your brain processes the devastating event, finally ticking at the comment that made you fire up.

"The pills- she was talking about the pills." The gasp was almost silent but audible enough to hear it come from your sister's mouth. The shocked expression could relate though.

Months ago, after sleepless nights of doing work, late shifts, and too many 'outgoings' you were fed up with the tiredness your body was composing every day. No matter how hard you tried to shut your eyes, listening to music that did not help you sleep made you confused and frustrated. That was when you started taking sleeping pills. You heard a lot about them, how great they were when you were having restless nights.

When you bought it one night, it kicked in within thirty minutes and you were snoozing into a deep slumber you hadn't had for ages. You took a couple more for the following days and you've never felt better before.

Wrong. You were just simply wrong.

You've had sleep paralysis before, it was on rare occasions, however. It would happen to you at least once a month before you experienced another after more months passed by. But then, one night you did not take the pills, worrying it would affect your health if you over-dosed yourself.

You were concerned about this since a week ago, you were extremely tired at work all of a sudden, accidentally falling asleep during your working hours. Your boss had made an unnecessary commotion in front of everyone, and you were humiliated, and embarrassed. During that day, before the drama had risen, you were acting irrational and grumpy. Your mood jumped from side to side, like a character not being aware of themselves. That was why you had stopped taking them.

Though, during the starry night as grey clouds consumed the moon, the paralysis itself decided to try you out. In other words, to make you a paralysed human, to see during the frightening experience and see the after-effects.

You were prepared to sleep, shuffling on your bed to get a perfectly comfortable position. Surprisingly, after forty minutes or so, you fell asleep. You actually fell asleep. Two hours later, you suddenly wake up, eyes groggily getting used to your surroundings in the dark, only to be lit up by a night lamp. You had this sudden sick feeling, and then you really felt it.

At first, you thought it was a nightmare, and that you would simply wake up, but the twisted feeling in your gut proved it real. It was as if the shock had run through you and you were frozen out of fear. Out of exhaustion. Out of lack of sleep.

Of course, your friend sleep paralysis had come over to visit.

Normally, you would try anything to get you to possibly move, yet sometimes you would just close your eyes and wait for it to go away, knowing it would last for a couple of minutes. But for some reason, you were scared, it felt different to you somehow.

It was not numbness as people who hadn't experienced it before thought, it was like being stuck to cement and no one could help you. No one would hear your screams or cries, only your heavy breathing was the source of your being alive.

The feeling had disappeared within three minutes or so, and you were able to move in pleasure. But, that one episode, definitely felt much different than before.

"You should get some rest." Your sister said, grabbing the car keys that were on the kitchen counter.

"Gonna get some food, and I'll talk to you about it later." She accidentally gives a look of concern, waving the keys around in her hands before heading out. Once she left, you sat on the couch, propping yourself comfortably. You grabbed the tv-remote, flicking through the channels.

Nothing really interesting.

You let out an exasperated sigh, staying on a cartoon channel, displayed for younger kids. You lie down primarily, just watching and thinking, watching and.. thinking. Was there even anything better to do?

"I am so sorry that I was not being the best friend I was meant to be."

You squeeze yourself momentarily when you recall the words. It was a rollercoaster just meeting her. The girl who broke your heart, and now you did not know how to seal the crack and let it heal. Was it the right choice you made? Not accepting the apology, and waiting for the foreseeable future? There was a growing ache that travelled everywhere in your body, and it hurt so much that you closed your eyes and breathed.

Gosh, you weren't able to breathe freely today.

Your loud breaths were soon tranquil snores, and the atmosphere around you vanished.

You were at a café, sipping on some hot cocoa with pink and white marshmallows on top, whipped cream melting into the hot beverage. There were muffled sounds but it was quiet. Peaceful enough for you to fall asleep on the spot.

Cars were roving around but there was no sound except for the light breeze that sang melodiously your way. It was relaxing and soothing, and it was getting the best of you. A music note flew your way and a tune was playing not too far from you. A white glowing figure stood there, dancing slowly to the music as well.

You think of joining them, leaving the hot cocoa on the table, the soft marshmallows fading away in the drink. As you sauntered towards them, the tune was more rackety now, more audibly visible. You take small steps, registering them carefully as you approach the person. The glow on them, however, dwindles away. When they pivot, the words screech into your ears.

"I am so sorry that I was not being the best friend I was meant to be."

Your eyes shot open from the terrible dream you had. You realised the tv was still on, but there was no audio. Only the clock ticking every second was heard.

Oh fuck, it’s happening again.

Your mouth shapes an ‘o’ form as you try to speak out something. Anything. But frivolity comes out, your voice had been held up like from the Disney Movie, Little Mermaid. You were entirely attached in one position, head facing the awning as one of your arms droops off the settee. The curtains were drawn, no light escaping this time.

You hear footsteps shuffling, and what was that? A hum?

The footsteps approach closer, and closer, and closer...

Then it halts, and your breathing quickens. God knows what the hell was there, you couldn't even move to see what it was. Something tugs your hair and your heart skips a beat.

And when they show themselves above you try to let out a cry.

A deep giggle fills up the room, its fingers still weaved into your hair.

You’re shushed up quickly when the figure floats around you, analysing you up and down in awe. You gaze at the shadowy, blurry figure, making out its appearance. Black hair and deep black eyes, and its black silhouette. Your eyes widen in realization, the shadow. The figure crouches down to your eye level, its cold fingers tilting your head to the side to face him. Those doe black eyes just peering into your soul like black jewels glistening in the dark and charcoal hair sleek in one position. Smooth skin, and sharp eyebrows. It looked almost, entirely human.

“I'm not an object dear, I can hear your thoughts.” He whispers, head resting on one of his hands. “But I like how you're admiring my physical appearance in a way.” He grimaces, eyes gazing into yours. Holy fuck, this thing can listen to your thoughts?

He traces your face delicately, fingers grazing against your soft skin, your wish to flinch doesn't occur but it makes your heart beat faster within seconds.

The figure notices it, simply drifting away as he hums, “Don’t worry, I won't hurt you.” He won't hurt you, just yet.

"You know, it's a shame that you humans can't speak once we get a hold of you, but you can speak with your mind you know? It saddens me that I can't hear your pretty voice coming from your pretty mouth, but I'll at least be able to listen to your personal thoughts." He laughs again, almost sounding innocent but buried in deep evil.

You don't speak with your mind at all, instead, you close your eyes and tell yourself to wake up. It's just another episode, and now you've probably met your sleep demon. The demon realises what you were doing, his hand hovering above your head as he whispers words you can't comprehend.

You muster up all your strength to move but your eyes snap open when those same words echo in the room.

"I am so sorry that I was not being the best friend I was meant to be."

It repeats again.

"I am so sorry that I was not being the best friend I was meant to be."

But this time, it approaches even more piercingly.

"I am so sorry that I was not being the best friend I was meant to be."

It rings in your ear as a high pitch shrill vibrates, making you lose your mind. As much as you would love to squirm, shutting your eyes and telling yourself to wake up was almost impossible.

Please, stop! Stop it, please! You beg entirely through your mind, eyes looking at the hand that was on your head. He takes his hand away, the sharp shrill disappears and it was all silent again.

"Well, that wasn't so hard was it?" He walks towards the end of the couch, right where your feet were touching. His hands rest by your feet as he admires your feared figure.

Jungkook was loving this so much. He loved how your heart would quiver at his touch, the shaky breaths you took as he circled around you. He would love it even more once you were his.

Poor thing, you still didn't know his name, well, he'll tell you soon. Jungkook watches you trying to close your eyes again, doing those stupid things that were apparently supposed to help you out of an episode.

Honestly, humans were so funny to him.

But you were more of a delight.

"You know, nothing will get you out of this episode, as long as nothing interrupts us." His giggle comes out soft, as if it were bouncing on clouds in the sky, except it was light rainfall just pattering down.

This was entirely fucked up.

"You know, I'm kinda getting bored just staring at you like this." Jungkook drifts away, merely vanishing within a second, "I wanna hear your thoughts, so let's have some fun shall we?"

Wake up or panic?

You chose panic.

The room magically turns foggy, thick and misty. Your eyes scatter around the room, literally just to find the weird almost human looking demon. You hear the clock ticking again, dead silent.

"Boo." You don't know whether if your heart exploded into a million pieces or it jumped out of your chest because the next movements created a real frightening mood.

Your head is turned to face the pillows resting in front of you, and warm fingers graze against the skin of your forehead, your nose, your cheeks, and then soon to your neck. They rest there for a couple of seconds before giving a light squeeze, and Jungkook hums out of satisfaction.

A hot whisper thrums in your ear, "I want you to listen what I'm going to say to you Y/N, focus carefully."

You could hear his next words, this time your heart thumping out of your chest, "Feel my hands touching your collarbone, just gliding my fingers across your gorgeous skin."

"Feel how they move down to your chest, to your arms, to your stomach."

"I want you to feel how my hands smooth across your legs, up and down in motion, slowly."

"And watch how my hands grab at your neck, tightly." Jungook's hands practically fly towards your neck, as he uses this opportunity to turn you to him, his eyes trail your pale face, happy that you were on the verge of tears.

Satisfaction.

"Do they feel nice around your neck? Tight enough to get no breath out of you?" His fingers dig into your neck, red imprints arising from the pain. Blood rushes, and your head starts to pound. You can feel your heart beating faster and faster, your lungs trying to give out as much as oxygen it can. You can't move, you can't fight him at all.

"You see human, you're very weak in this state, so alone and afraid, pathetic."

None of this is real, it can't be.

"Tell me now, is it your desire to wish that the 'little disturbance' you're experiencing right now not real?" His laugh ruptures through the room, his eyes turning dark when his grasp on you gets immense.

"I'll prove to you what's real or not."

A large crash bounces off the corner of your ear, followed by a loud slam. You awake, muscles and fingers, your entire body finally able to move. You roll off the couch, breathing.

That fucker is gone.

"Y/N?" You look to find your sister at the door, a confused expression all over her face. She held up a bag that smelt of fresh food and you get up, pretending that you just fell by accident.

"Aren't we gonna eat?" You question her as you stroll to the dining table.

"Holy fuck, Y/N, what the fuck happened to you?"

Your sister practically drops the food on the table and rushes towards you, her hands carefully touching your neck.

You hiss in pain. Pain?

Your eyes widen in realisation as you run to the bathroom, the mirror reflecting and revealing the bright red marks left on your neck. Those hands that had been wrapped around your neck left light bruises, and tiny, not too deep cuts were everywhere.

Every time, a light feathery touch to your neck was felt, all you could do was wince in agony.

"I'll prove to you what's real or not."

This truly cannot be real, if you cannot comprehend it in your mind then surely, it is not true. You know what? You're probably having those dream loops right now. You're just dreaming, in another dream in which you had faced another terrible dream.

"Y/N, what the hell?!" Your sister yells from afar, and you almost jump at her voice.

"What?" You question, leaving the bathroom, you find her staggered as she pointed at something to the ground.

"Did you do this to yourself, Y/N?"

"Do what?"

"Did you seriously shatter my vase, and fucking cut yourself?"

Your eyes squint, and your eyebrows scrunch in incredulity, how could she blame you like that?

"Listen, I did not do it. I don't fucking know how the vase br-"

The crash. No way...

"Yeah, as if it totally just fell by itself." Your sister shoves past you, snatching a broom to clean up the mess. While the glass clinks against each other, your sister sighs.

"Look...Y/N, I know things haven't been going great for you lately, but you shouldn't use these situations as an excuse to hurt yourself." She says the last words softly, grunting as she stood up.

"I didn't cut myself, I swear, it was just-" You hesitate momentarily, she would not believe you now, would she?

"Just what?"

"You wouldn't believe me."

"Hit me up."

"It's just that, I- you know how I get those sleep paralysis episodes? I had one early today morning, and I saw a shadow standing at my bedroom door, that fucking creeped me out and now, I encountered my demon, Y/S/N, it was choking me."

The sigh that comes from her mouth explains it all.

“Y/N, we know they're not real, it’s just a hallucination.”

“It’s real! The fucking thing broke your vase, and it was strangling me so fucking hard that its fucking nails did this.” You point at your neck frustratingly, but honestly who would believe you?

“We should eat.” That is what your sister replies, disappearing into the kitchen. Your shoulders droop as you slump on the couch, pain inching further and further when you move your neck a little. You had no energy to argue with her, everyone knows that the scenarios you witness in sleep paralysis are not real.

But you knew this one was.

After a little convincing to stay over the night, you quickly drove back to your home, grabbing some clothes and your toothbrush. There was no message left from Seulgi, after the chaotic public arguing. Looks like you did make the right decision.

You re-counter the horrifying nightmare you had faced, the human-looking creature who was nearly about to kill you triggered your brain of the thought. You felt so weak, so desperate for help that all your focus to somehow manage to get out of the episode fell onto being alive… and not supposedly dead.

The marks that were scathed on your neck were now small bruises, pampered all over. Your sister had treated it, but every time you tried to mention the episode, she would ignore you and change the topic for both of your sakes. It made you feel stupid and delusional. Even if you had gone to see a doctor they would repeat the usual things.

Fix your sleep schedule

Try to regularly get 6 to 8 hours of sleep a day

Get regular exercise

And so on.

Dusk hits, and the night starts to settle in. Grey clouds block the crescent moon which hung at the sky, as you enter your sister's home. You stroll around the kitchen only to find a sticky note stuck to the fridge.

Dinner is in the fridge, gone to get some work stuff.

Time starts to pass as you do things that wouldn't make you bored.

You were scrolling through your phone, reading articles of mysteries and wonder but your eyes fall upon the big, bold, capitalised letters presenting: 'HOW I RECOVERED FROM SLEEP PARALYSIS'

Instantly interested you click on the article and start reading it. You were looking for some tips and ideas, just in case it happened to you again.

'First tip as usual: Don't sleep on your back in a straight position'

'...I had sleep paralysis before but it started to become frequent over the past few weeks.'

'...I knew there was sleep paralysis demons but I never interfered with one.'

'...And then it was there, a creepy lookin' shadow that just peeked through the doors of my wardrobe.'

'...I wasn't havin' sleep paralysis that night but I thought I was dreamin' but my cat was with me, and he started hissin' at the wardrobe.'

'...This thing had red eyes, and long scaly fingers that were at least 10 centimeters.'

'...It used to whisper stuff I couldn't understand, but it always said its name: Cybil.'

'...I didn't do the hippy stuff at the beginning but then I thought of following them, you know? So I started to exercise, fixin' my sleep schedule and basically made it a routine.'

'... And it was a miracle because it stopped comin'. I had no demons snickerin' and scarin' the sh** out of me now. I tell you to follow this hippy stuff because it actually worked.'

You shudder at the feeling knowing such a unreal creature could torture a human so much in their sleep. But it was the same thing over and over again. You start to remember the cold fingers that landed on your neck, the charming devil that was smiling all the way while you were on the verge of death.

You shook yourself vigorously and drew out a heavy breath. Anxiety started to creep in and you were suddenly aware of your surroundings. A vile feeling in your stomach was created and you couldn't help but wonder if that thing was watching you right now.

Would it stare at you if you were sleeping?

Planning to do something to you again?

Or was it just here to make your life a living hell?

Most importantly, could it kill you?

You hugged your knees, the caps hitting your chest as you rocked gently and started humming to yourself. You prayed that the paralysis wouldn't happen tonight, especially after having such a horrific encounter with him.

Jungkook sat in his own little space, black shadows whispering all around him, ghastly words that could send a shiver down your spine. The invisible force that held the others back made them shriek with each hit they took to break it down.

"What is he doing?!" They hissed, anger fumed in their corrupted souls, evil leaking with each word they spoke. Their misdeeds were the only thing that kept them alive.

"He's hogging the room." One said, their faint long nails stained the invisible force, all of them slowly calming down.

"Why?"

"What else do you think? He's doing it for a mere h-human." The shadow's voice drew out deep, sounding disgusted with the term. The rest gagged at the intention Jungkook displayed.

"Our energy is getting wasted, we're hungry, let us in you fucking dog!"

The force vanished, and all of the dark demons whirled at Jungkook, but something had stopped them. Jungkook stood as his hand glowed a black aura, it sparkled with sin. Their eyes grew wide, hunger devouring their wicked souls.

Oh god, Jungkook loved toying with them. He loved it.

"Look at you miserable demons, hungry hustlers ready to enjoy fear?" The aura grew even bigger in his hands as the demons' eyes turned pure black, their whispers chanting for food.

"Go get it."

The aura flew into the air and, all of the shadows cried for it as they ran. They bit, scram, swore, and yelled (even causing fixable injuries), desperate for the fear they were wishing to taste.

Jungkook chuckled as his eyes followed the drawn circle in front of him. It was as clear as night, (well in his saying), you slept so peacefully. He could hear your tranquil snores and your tired mind. The fear that was stuck to you was strong, incredibly strong for him to not hold back.

He thought he would feel bad after your first meeting with him went wrong. No, actually right. Because Jungkook didn't feel bad at all, but more excited. He chose the perfect person to coquet around with, to suck in some distress here and there. He found you.

When his hands touched your skin, it ignited a fire within him. Something he hadn't felt in a while. It was a sign that you were the one, the one for him. The reminder of his shadow watching you from your bedroom doorway, and your little panicked breaths made him smile.

You looked so adorable while being scared.

Every time your heartbeat raced, his did too. He would inhale your intoxicating scent, which drove him mad as he was anguished to devour some of your fear.

Exhilaration got to the best of him, and he swore he could never get tired of the fear that you released. He was blessed to frighten you, oh what luck he had in his hands. Jungkook never meant to go overboard last night, but how could he control it?

"Jungkook..."

His eyes snapped to him, black irises filled once again.

"What?"

The demon in front of him licked his black sinned lips clean, some of the aurae still dripping down his chin. He smiled wickedly before proceeding to speak.

"You don't mind sharing do you?" He looks over Jungkook, glee spread across his face.

"Fuck off."

"Yes? The last time I checked, you were the one who made the rule to share amongst our.. friends."

"Cybil, you're getting on my nerves lately, I suggest you to attend your duties."

"Or what? Are you afraid I'm going to scare the shit out of that thing?"

Jungkook growled, his shadow growing with the aura he brought upon.

"I can fucking banish you to the low-level demons, the ones with broken souls and mourning's everyday. Is that what you want Cybil? If it isn't enough for you I can make sure everyone can enjoy their next course meal."

This time Cybil's shadow fattened, as Jungkook's aura started to intimidate him. He spins around, muttering words he would soon regret.

"He should be banished, unwanted, filthy hellhound."

With the snap of his fingers, all of the demons' attention was directed to Cybil. Silence creeps up as all of them peer at him with greedy stares.

"Eat him."

If people who sang high notes could break glass, then the shriek coming from Cybil was a note that would never exist in the real world. The demons sank their teeth into Cybil, biting off his existence. His cries of pain and fear, mixed, drove into the air, while others were shamelessly sucking away.

Jungkook drawled back his attention to you. Tonight, he was going to let you go. But of course, he would come again soon.

Jungkook shook his head as a fear bubble sprouted in front of him. He could hear Cybil's protests, his useless begging. Happily, he quaffs the last bit away. He scoffs at the bitter taste and a deranged smile popped onto his face.

"Filthy hellhound."

It was as if you had faced a miracle.

A restful night and the alarm clock ringing indicated the long hours you had slept so quiescently. You heard how the occurrence of 'sleep demons' usually only comes once or twice, nothing of them too frequent.

The bruises on your neck were now less visible and looked completely normal whenever you moved your neck at a certain angle. Your prayer had been answered and you smiled so wide that your cheeks hurt. You get up to freshen up and meet your sister along the way.

"Hey, got a good sleep?" She asks.

"Yeah, probably the best one yet." You exaggerate as you go to the bathroom.

Goodness, you really were absurd thinking about how these hallucinations could be so real. Now that you hadn't had any demon coming over it made things better for you.

You were waiting for your sister to arrive while you sat on the dining chair, munching on some cereal. She strolls past you and sits on the opposite seat. A sudden hesitant question pops into her mind as she shuffles in her seat uncomfortably.

"Um, Y/N?"

"Yeah?"

"Uh, how long are you going to stay here?"

You look at her and grin, "I was just hoping today will be the last, if that’s okay?"

"It’s just that I have a business trip to go on tomorrow morning and I won't be here.”

You drop your spoon and the action spilled some milk on the table.

“Oh, when are you going to leave?”

“Early, like eight am?”

“That shouldn't be a problem then, I'll just leave at the same time then."

Your sister nods her head and starts eating her breakfast as well.

You hold your spoon, thinking that maybe you've actually stayed for quite a while, so you ask her.

"Listen, I-I hope I'm not burdening you or anything, you know? Especially after what happened with Seulgi, you're like the only person I have left to be with."

Your sister smiles and she gently puts her hand on top of yours.

"You're not a burden to me Y/N, you're my sister and.. sisters always stick together."

You smile back and continue the morning with laughter and joy.

With a groan, you unkink your back whilst plopping down the suitcase you brought next to your bed. The clock ticks and you just unexpectedly sit in silence. Thoughts consume your mind, like how you were going to go back to your normal life now. Doing your 9-5 shifts, coming home tardily, eating microwaved food- it was just the day-to-day routine.

Your eyes snap to the alarm clock posing on the bedside table, red numbers flickering 00:00. With tired hands you put an alarm on to wake you up in the morning. You sigh in response as you lift yourself onto the bed, pulling the blankets up to your neck as you curl into sleep like a small kitten.

It's dark and quiet, and the lights are out. No late movie nights, no pestering animals, and especially no awake humans.

A soulless noise vibrates from Jungkook’s throat as cold, icy breaths sail into the spacious room. He gapes at the room and does a bit of exploring like looking at the drawers, the windows and of course, under your bed.

He stares at your still, peaceful figure. He can't help but gawk at you in awe, his hands anticipating touching you and feeling your warm skin. He couldn't wait any longer. He had to take you home. He hurriedly backs away from you as he slowly crouches at the foot of your bed, his irises turning pitch black as his hands waver a heavy black haze. His feet float a couple of inches from the floor as he hovers above you and speaks in a deep, startling voice.

But you can't hear it.

You're not in his world, yet.

The mist spreads from his hands, leaving a trail over your sleeping body. It clings to your legs and feet, and your arms but Jungkook stops at your neck.

He reminisces about the moment when he first tried to kill you, how his inhumane fingers attached themselves to your pretty neck and he just wanted to feel your blood pulse through all that pressure. How your fear was nurturing him, providing him with a longer chance of living. You are his. And he's thought everything through, just to get to you, to have you and cherish you forever. You’re his favourite human.

However, today he wanted to hear your voice. It was an unforeseen idea, a rule that mustn’t be broken.

But Jungkook didn't care, he wouldn't get banished or eaten alive. Maybe get a warning at first but by then things will already be smooth when you're there. Just as he was about to snap his fingers, you yank your head roughly in your sleep. Jungkook quickly hides in a corner, stunned by the action at first. He then realises what you were doing.

You kept moving your head back and forth because you felt it. You felt the invisible strings that were consuming your body and you wanted to let go of them. You get up without a word and happen to roll to the other side of the bed. And soon again you're in peace.

Jungkook comes out of his spot, ready to snap his fingers again as he watches the dull mist sink into your gorgeous skin. Jungkook then disappears and watches you from afar, just waiting for you to jolt in your sleep and realise the nightmare that was reliving again.

Time went by and Jungkook was starting to become impatient. He had a choice to go rough and just physically shake you but that would be no fun. He has to take his time with you. He wants it to be a night that will be glued to your memories, something that he would also be fond of.

And then he senses it.

He sees it.

Your eyes snap wide open and the distressed feeling in your gut turns sour and gives your heart a good punch.

You feel that sick feeling again. Your body felt like it was just glued and stuck in cement, or like a dozen chains that were wrapped around you giving you no space to breathe. A feeling of helplessness. You closed your eyes and mentally pushed your body to move. But for some reason tonight, it was impossibly hard. You hated this sensation, a spectacle of fear and anxiety mixed drove you mad.

Is he here? You abruptly pondered.

“He’s here.”

Your eyes visibly shake when you see his tall figure, alluring doe eyes that aren't callow and his face as a mask of an angel but a devil in disguise.

“There’s no need for you to be scared of me, after all, I do apologise for what happened last time.” Jungkook roams around your room as you watch him through your eyes.

Is he truly sorry?

Never, what he did wasn't wrong. It was just part of his nature, surely you would understand that soon.

“I won't play to scare you this time, I promise.” His face is extremely close to yours, and you could feel his chilly breath on your neck. He caresses your face and gives you a small smile.

“You can talk you know? I just really wanted to hear your vocals, I wondered how it would sound like.”

You pry your mouth open and the first word is so croaked that you almost cough.

You had no idea what to say to this strange thing, all you wanted was to get out of another horrible episode and just go home.

The atmosphere screams awkwardness to you, but to Jungkook it was all fear. Just bits and pieces that go straight to him.

You finally manage to say a couple of words,

“What do you want from me?” You whisper, eyes trailing over the demon.

“To take you with me, to my home where we can be happy together. A place where you won't be alone.”

You're shocked, too shocked to even process whatever the hell you were hearing right now.

“And today I'm going to take you and you won't have to stay in your horrible world anymore with your horrible sister and friends.”

You suddenly snap, anger just surging through you. You're just tired, tired of everything that has been happening to you all you wanted was a good night's sleep, nothing more than that.

“Shut up! You’re not real. You're just a sick fucking nightmare and I'm stuck with a thing like you, you fucking son of a bitch just leave me alone!”

You expected to wake up and slap yourself for having such episodes but you didn't. You were still here with him.

The atmosphere becomes too quiet, so quiet that you bet you could hear a pin drop from the other side of the house.

Jungkook continues to stare at you as his eyes narrow a bit. You just added fuel to fire.

“First of all, I'm not a thing, my name is Jungkook. Maybe letting you speak was a mistake but I must say your voice is exhilarating to listen to.”

His mood shifts in a millisecond and then something just so sinister crawls out of his mouth.

“Do you know how I'm going to take you Y/N? Do you still remember how we did our first unjust encounter?”

Him choking you...

“I'm going to ruin the surprise but I'm going to do the same thing to you today. And then you'll be with me forever.”

“No...” You choke out, “stop, just stop and leave me alone...this isn't real, none of it is and you aren't that's for sure.”

“Oh really, Y/N? Do I have to prove to you again that I'm real?” His voice drops octaves lower and it frightens you.

You needed to get out desperately, this was completely deranged. But how? Your sister is asleep and this time Jungkook probably won't break another vase on purpose. Then what could help you?

You suddenly remember Jungkook’s words: “...nothing will get you out of this episode, as long as nothing interrupts us.”

An interruption.

Something that could possibly wake you up as an advantage for this demon to leave you alone. Maybe something loud and a bit heavy or-

The alarm clock. You had set up the alarm clock to wake you at 6 so you would have a heads-up on the time.

Your eyes shoot to the clock and the screen flickers from 5:58 to 5:59 now. Just one more minute and you would be able to get out of another sick interlude.

You don't notice but Jungkook follows your eyes and realises the way they enlarge as if you had a bit of hope left. Because you did have hope.

It doesn't take long for him to grasp your thoughts and all the planning that was whirring the cogs in your sleep- deprived brain. Jungkook titters at you when he calls out to you.

"Oh Y/N, my love, I hope you know whatever you're planning in that little head of yours is not going to work." Your eyes keep scanning between the clock and him.

"Because I know that your final minute is precious to you, but it is precious to me as well."

Jungkook emits a long, audible breath when all your focus is buried on the clock.

"I really wanted to take my time with you Y/N, I really did. But I guess with just a minute to spare-" Jungkook's hands creep toward under your head and you could feel the frigid skin against yours, "I need to kill you."

His hands grip the pillow next to you and a hard smack lands on your face. You can't move your head, your neck, your arms or your legs. You can't move. How can one be any more helpless than this?

You softly shriek and begin to bear the softness of the pillow suffocating you. The breaths you gasp out and swallow become harder to manage, and your body begins to feel hot. The pillow becomes heavier and the demon who's doing this just smiles in glee, black irises and black shadow overpowering your condemned soul.

“Shh…you know you can’t scream.” Your mouth shuts instantly and all you could do was muffle.

You start to detect spots in your vision, your breathing slowing down whilst all the blood that's rushing to you gives Jungkook more of a thrill.

You were soon going to be his.

You were going to belong to him forever.

You're counting on the last seconds of the clock, just hoping it would ring any second now. Every breath you take takes a second away, and you're just praying that something will wake you up right now.

...3

...2

...1

The spots invade your vision, your breathing stops and your eyes lay open with no life left in them.

You heave out aggressively, immediately scrambling away from the bed. You slowly touch your face, fingertips shaking from the experience you just interfered with.

Oh god, it was over. It wasn't real, it was just another episode. You're alive, and you're not with him. You jump out of excitement and relief ready to go to your sister and tell her you were feeling much better.

But she beats you to it.

You weren't aware when your sister walked into your bedroom. She was already dressed in her black suit and white shirt, with her hair up in a neat bun.

"Hey." You hear her voice and turn around to find her sitting on your bed just staring at your pillows.

Silly her, she probably didn't notice you standing in the corner of the bedroom.

"Listen Y/N, first of all I know you're awake," she smiles "but I wanted to apologise to you."

You frown at the comment, and you frown when she still doesn't pay attention to you standing right next to her.

"Hello, I'm right here. Who are you talking to?" You question her, hands waving right at her face. But your sister doesn't move her head to see you, she just continues looking at your empty bed.

"I'm sorry for not talking about what happened with Seulgi, I know so much has happened to you and I feel so guilty for not reassuring you or anything. I was completely wrapped up in my own work that I forgot about you, your situation and the life you were leading."

You instantly smile when she said that, and your heart is finally filled with contentment. Her hands touch something that you don't see, so you rub your eyes and you suddenly feel sick. Your heartbeat races like a runner that you almost drop to the floor.

There on your bed was you.

You were lying down on your bed with a pillow on your face, the blanket all crumpled white your sister rested her hand on your shoulder.

"Um, Y/N, you okay?" Your sister queries as her hands start to push off the pillow.

"Y/N? Hello? Oh my goodness are you-"

She touches your skin, checks your pulse and she felt the unseen frostbites that were stuck on your skin.

You stood frozen when a bloodcurdling scream erupted from your sister's throat, her eyes already stung with tears and her yells were becoming more desperate and louder.

Her voice started to become hoarse and dry, she needed water, but she whimpered and wept next to you, her hands shaking and fiddling with her suit pocket to bring out a phone but it drops to the floor and she does too.

You've never seen your sister like this, never.

You start to feel the wet tears glistening on your cheek and your surroundings turn dull and grey. It becomes incredibly dark but you could still make out your poor sister trembling as she stared at your dead body.

"No..." you whispered to yourself, "n-no, this can't be happening."

This had to be another nightmare, something unforgivable to make you see a distraught scene. You spin around and your eyes jump out of your sockets.

There he was. Standing tall and proud with a stupid smirk on his face as he watched you cry so beautifully. You shook and started to back away from this monster who had tormented you so much.

He crept up to you and your back hit the wall, and your sister and your dead body were no longer here. Instead, you saw a dark room with a silver glow on top of you. Hundreds, no, more like thousands of sleep paralysis demons were whispering and growling as they looked down at you.

You weren't home.

You were dead.

You were with him in his world.

Jungkook stood impossibly close to you and you just wanted to shrink into a little ball and get out of this place.

His hands grasped your chin and his eyes turned yet black again, simply purring as he spoke.

"I told you I would bring you home love."

You stared at the clear ceiling again, peeking at the disgusting creatures. You wondered how many people were disturbed because of them, because of the torments they brought upon their toys.

You trembled under Jungkook’s touch and your will to push him or even fight him withered away. And so you shut your eyes when you felt Jungkook's cold lips on yours.

He finally got you just like how he said and wanted. He hears your thoughts and Jungkook wasn’t going to lie but he does agree with you. He's a monster and so are the others above the both of you, after all, in the end, no matter how cruel or kind, they are monsters in the dark.

[sionnaach]

Trigger warnings for drug and alcohol use, temporary character death, slight mental health spiralling

chapter one

ao3

I warned you about stairs bro

--

“What the fuck?”

Nico is back in the bathroom, staring at himself in the mirror.

He was just hit by a car. Right? That definitely just happened. He should be dead, not standing in front of his bathroom mirror, staring at his reflection.

Not a mark on him, either. Not a drop of blood, or a bruise, or even a scuff of dirt. Exactly the same.

“What the fuck.” He repeats, quieter. Did he hallucinate the last, what, three hours?

There's a knock on the door.

Ignoring the glare from the girl outside - who he still doesn't know - as she slams the door shut behind her, he makes a beeline for the kitchen. Again Nico passes by people all wishing him happy birthday. He shrugs off their touches and ignores the shot thrust out before him.

Piper is still in the kitchen, behind the counter. She grins when she sees him, holding the lit joint up and singing; “Happy birthday to you, happy birthday-”

He cuts her off again. “Piper, what was in that joint?”

She blinks at him, looking from the joint in her hand and back to Nico, more than a little confused. “This one? It's just weed, dude. And you've not had any yet.”

“Are you absolutely sure there's nothing else in it?”

“Yes? I mean, it's from my regular dealer. You know, the one that Percy Jackson Himself recommended.” she frowns, clearly concerned. “What's wrong?”

“I got hit by a car and died.”

“That's not funny, what the fuck Nico.”

“No, I'm serious. I’ve already been through this party. I went to the shop and got hit by a car while crossing the road.”

Piper looks ready to book him into the next available therapy session with the first of her colleagues who is free and also happens to specialise in ‘losing touch with reality’, which is understandable. Nico tries a different approach. “Leo and Jason are going to show up in the next like, minute.”

There's a loud cheer just as he finishes speaking, and Leo’s voice booms over the music.

“Chef Leo is back in business!”

Nico raises his eyebrows at Piper and spreads his hands. She's still frowning at him.

“Okay that's… a little weird, but they did say they were on their way. Have you had anything else to drink? Taken anything?”

“Before? Yeah, your joint and like half a bottle of moonshine. About an hour after this conversation.”

Before Piper can respond, Leo and Jason appear beside them, taco trays at the ready.

“Yikes, whatever conversation is happening here is way too serious.” Leo says, moving to place down his platter once Piper clears the counter for them. “You're welcome, by the way.”

Nico hardly waits for the tray to hit the countertop before he's grabbing a taco and wolfing it down, deciding that he needs to sober up immediately and figure out what the fuck is going on.

Leo retracts his hands like Nico is a feral dog. “Jesucristo. Piper, do you feed the boy?”

“Nico is a twenty-five-year-old Adult, with an Adult Job and Adult Bills. He feeds himself.”

Jason, meanwhile, is watching him with a concerned expression, moving to his opposite side. “You good?” he asks softly as Nico starts in on his second taco.

Nico covers his mouth to reply around the mouthful of food, because of course they’re talking to him while he’s eating. “Bad trip.”

“He says he's already been at the party.” Piper fills them in, giving Nico a chance to finish his taco in peace. “Like, lived the whole thing already.”

“Like deja-vu?” Jason asks, and Nico shrugs.

“I guess.”

“Deja-vu?” Leo repeats, inserting himself into the conversation. “The fuck have you been smoking?”

“Piper’s joint, or nothing, I don’t fucking know.”

Leo takes the joint from Piper and studies it carefully, like he can tell the chemical components through sight and touch alone. She rolls her eyes. “At least smoke it, asshole.”

He inhales deeply. Breathes back out slowly. A moment's pause, and he hands the joint back to Piper with a shrug. “Yeah. that’s definitely just weed, dude.”

“Whatever it is, it has majorly fucked me up.”

“Again, you haven’t had any.”

She holds it out to him, but Nico waves her off.

“I need to figure out what’s going on.” He starts, and blinks when he realises that Piper’s expression has shifted, nor is her attention on his face. “What?”

She’s glaring at something over his shoulder, and Nico turns to find Octavian standing in the doorway. He gives Nico an imporing look.

“Nico, can we-”

“Absolutely not.” His roommate speaks before Nico can, and Octavian scowls at her.

“This doesn’t concern you, Piper.”

She raises her chin, giving Octavian a look that is ice cold. “This is my house, and you weren’t invited. Get out.”

Octavian looks back at Nico, as if he’d somehow be on his side. He shrugs innocently. “It’s true, I just pay rent. Better do as she says.”

Jason and Leo are on either side of Octavian now (which, admittedly, is a little funny. Jason is both taller and broader than his ex, but Leo is about five-foot-three on a good day.) “Private party, dude.” Leo says, his smile threatening.

Jason doesn’t have to say anything. Octavian takes one look at him and seems to reconsider whatever retort was going through his head.

Octavian meets his eyes through the wall of his friend’s shoulders. “Just… Call me? Please?” He pleads as Jason and Leo guide him out. Nico flips him off.

Piper is still scowling past him when he turns back to her. “Dickbag.” She says finally, earning a snort of laughter from Nico.

“Want a shot?” She asks, a little too enthusiastically, and Nico grins.

-

“Happy birthday Nico! I’m so sorry we’re late.” Hazel pulls him into a tight hug and kisses both his cheeks in greeting. Frank is a little more reserved than his sister, but still gives Nico a hug that is only slightly bone crushing.

“You’ve not missed much.” He tells Hazel when Frank releases him, a little breathless.

Leo appears with a couple paper plates loaded with tacos, which he hands to Hazel and Frank. Nico tries to steal one from Hazel, but she smacks his hand away with a sisterly glare. He sticks his tongue out at her and she laughs.

Leo gives his sister and brother-in-law a wide grin. “We had to kick out Octavian.”

Hazel grimaces, not finding this news nearly as amusing as Leo. “Why was he here? Surely you didn’t invite him.” She pauses, then turns to Nico with a disapproving frown. “You didn’t get back with him, did you?”

“What- Hazel, no.” He’s almost offended that she would come to such a conclusion. Mainly because it’s not exactly outside of his wheelhouse, in terms of bad romantic decisions, and they all know it.

“Good. You deserve better.”

He rolls his eyes, but gives her a small smile. “Keep saying that and I’ll start believing it.”

–

They manage to procure the couches to sit as a group, Perks of being host-slash-birthday-boy, Nico figures.

His social battery is quickly wearing out. He loves his friends and he loves his sister and her fiance but he hates parties and he hates crowds and really, Leo, why did you think this was the best way to celebrate my birthday?

It’s Nico, Piper, and Jason on one and Hazel and Frank on the other. Leo sits on the floor between Jason’s legs. He's playing with a Rubik’s Cube, because of course he is. Nico isn’t even sure where he found it, or if he brought it with him for some inexplicable Leo reason.

They’re talking amongst themselves with voices raised above the general clamor and thumping music, trying to catch up with each other, while Nico stares ahead at nothing.

They, being the six of them, could have rigged up Nico’s Switch to the projector and played Mario Kart until 4am while getting high, and honestly, that sounds like a much better night than being surrounded by people he doesn’t know, during one of the weirdest nights of his life.

“I’m going outside.” He says suddenly, knocking Piper’s legs off his lap as he jumps to his feet. She stretches them out in his absence, leaning back into Jason, and looks up at him.

“If you go to the shop can you grab me a box of Marlboros? Please and thank you.”

Nico nods, though he has no intention of heading that far again, lest he get hit by another car.

–

He takes the stairwell two steps at a time. Hopefully the fresh air will clear his head a little. His vision is starting to get hazy, but he doesn’t feel that drunk.

He misses a step.

He can’t catch himself.

Nico tumbles down the rest of the stairs and lands on his neck with a crunch.

–

Someone is knocking on the bathroom door.

Nico is staring at his reflection in the mirror.

“For fuck’s sake.”

He broke his neck. He fell down a flight of stairs and broke his neck and fucking died. Again. He pulls back his hair with shaking hands and checks himself in the mirror, turning his head left and right, for any sign of a broken neck.

Nothing.

He lets his hair fall back into his face with a frustrated sigh.

He backs up and holds his shirt up. He was hit by a car and then fell down a concrete stairwell, he should be covered in bruises.

Again. Not a scratch.

Someone’s knocking on the door.

“Give me a fucking minute.” He hisses, pulling his shirt back down. He leans over the sink. Splashes water onto his face and rubs briskly. Get it together, Niccoló.

He doesn’t even glance at the girl waiting to get in, striding past her and directly towards Piper, who is still in the fucking kitchen.

“Piper, I think I’m losing my mind.” He announces, somewhat desperately, before she can start singing Happy Birthday.

“That’s your frontal lobe finishing it’s development.” She answers with a grin. It drops, when she sees how shaken he is. “Oh no, what’s wrong?”

He leans his elbows on the counter and hides his face in his hands, breathing slowly and deeply to try and settle his heart rate. “I keep. I don’t know. I think I’m dead and I’m stuck in limbo which is my twenty-fifth birthday party, for some fucking reason.” He looks back up to gauge her reaction, raking his hair back with one hand.

It doesn’t look good, not that he was expecting anything else.

“Okay. In good conscience, I can’t let you drink or smoke anymore.” She starts, stubbing the joint out in an ashtray and tucking it behind her ear. “I’ll kick everyone else out, it can just be the six of us and we can figure out what’s going on.”

Honestly, it’s tempting, but he knows that, for Piper,‘figuring out what’s going on’ is code for ‘are you in danger and need medical assistance’ not ‘the universe is out to kill me and succeeding.'

He deliberates for a little longer, before shaking his head. “No. No, it’s fine. I think I’m just having a bad trip. I might just… Go to bed. Sorry for being a killjoy.”

Piper rounds the counter to give him a quick hug. “You’re not, you’re being smart. I’ll let folk stay for now, but text me if things get too loud and they’re gone. It’s still your birthday.”

“Right. Enjoy your night.”

She gives him another hug, one arm around his shoulders, pressing her cheek to his hair affectionately before letting him go. Nico can see her pulling her phone out as he leaves the kitchen.

A few people wish him happy birthday when he passes them in the hallway, and he gives them half-hearted ‘thank you’s’ before retreating into the dark of his bedroom. He kicks off his boots and falls face-first onto his bed, not bothering to change out of the rest of his clothes.

“Happy fuckin’ birthday.” He mutters to himself, sending a quick prayer to whatever God happens to be listening so that he doesn’t suffocate in his sleep and wake up in the fucking bathroom.

[wilsonthemoose]

5.15 angels have gone

In which Sam does almost everything the same except that Dean doesn't show up to be with him when he jumps.

(As told through a series of voicemails)

Alternate Universe - Croatoan/Endverse (Supernatural), in that this fic is the events preceding endverse or how endverse came about, Angst, Temporary Character Death, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Blood and Violence, Season/Series 05, Episode: s05e04 The End (Supernatural), Hurt No Comfort, also featuring the lucifer rising voicemail and the samulet briefly

He's standing in a pool of congealing blood, bare feet tacky and sticking, "Hey, Dean. It's uh— It's Sam." Stupid, stupid, stupid. "Look I know we both thought this was for the best. Going our separate ways, I mean. But I uh— look I'm sorry okay? And I'm trying to fix it, I'm trying to fix everything and I know you are too. And we just work better together man." Cliché, cliché, cliché. "Call me back? It'd be good to hear from you."

The gun's soaked, chamber clogged. It will take some cleaning.

His hand never shook.

No new messages.

He contemplates calling of course, sometimes. Five drinks into the night.

Open wounds never close but you do them no favours by picking either so he drinks some more instead and checks his messages religiously.

__

"Hey, Dean. Been a while. Just wanted to check in." He's standing against a black '67 Impala he jacked four counties back out of sheer, stupid nostalgia. "Actually, no, I'm working a lead." He hesitates for a moment. "With the Trickster. And I know what you're gonna say—" Just can't stop working with monsters, can you, Sam? "But uh— he did me a real solid, and," he sighs, "It's a chance, you know? Anyway, I could really use your help. I'll send you the coordinates."

The car makes all the wrong noises. He could fix it, if he wanted, but it also doesn't have toy soldiers or legos, and anyway, he's not sure he cares all that much.

"Hi Dean, I had a really great time last—"

Delete messages.

__

"Hey. I know you say no chick-flick moments but—" he sucks a breath in through his teeth, "Dean, I would— I just wanna talk, just once. Baseball scores, weather, anything." He stares between his feet and imagines Dean listening to the message. He'd roll his eyes. He might be angry. He probably doesn't care enough to listen. "I keep—"

To send, press 1. To—

"Are you ready?" she asks, not unkind but bordering on impatient.

She's going to spread his remains over the planet and this time, with any luck—

"Give me a minute."

He digs the phone out of his pocket for a little bit of courage and hits play. "Listen to me you blood-sucking freak..."

__

"Hey, Sam." He clears his throat. "Heard you took down Famine." He takes a swig of whiskey and wipes his mouth. "I talked to Bobby and I can— I'll come and get you, okay?" The sound of Sam screaming 15 feet under the house echoes up to him, a year and a life away. "Just call me, Sam." He's half proud and then half surprised he can still feel that way. "I'm not— I'm not mad at you Sam. Call me."

"You're a monster, Sam. A vampire. You're not you anymore and there's no going back."

He sets a bucket, a few bottles of water, and a small paper clip on the floor and cuffs himself to the tiny cot. He's banking on the hope that he'll be shaking too much by the time he loses his will and tries to get out of the cuffs.

It starts with tremors and hallucinations. Then there's the seizures and the vomiting. At some point (day two or three?) he finds himself on the floor with the unbearable weight of the flimsy steel bedframe crushing him and the room moving violently up and down with a thudding like a bowling ball hitting a carpeted floor.

He only realizes it had been his own head repeatedly jerking to the floor several hours later, standing over his body trying to tear his eyes away from Lucifer in Jessica's body. Her thin-fingered hand stroking blood off the forehead of his corpse with enough tenderness that it might really have been her.

"You don't have to fight anymore, Sam," the voice is a whisper. Almost her in sound but the cadence is off. "You and me, we're the same." It probably says something, that Lucifer only ever talks to his corpse. Lucifer sighs, long and drawn out, "Oh, I know you don't want to hear this, Sam, but I promise," her hand curls around Sam's ear, tucking sticky hair out of the way, "You will understand someday."

His head is whole again when he wakes, but the wrists are torn from the handcuffs and it takes him several hours to steady his hands enough to pick the locks.

__

"Dean, it's been months. Getting kind of sick of the silent treatment, you know?" He pinches the bridge of his nose. "I heard about Ellen and Jo." He hates the way his voice trails down at the end, hates the way he should have been the one to die there. Hates the way his brother hates him so much he won't even—

"I'm sorry Dean. I'm here. If you want to—" he almost says talk, "yell or—" he sighs. "I don't think you're listening to these so."

Dean tosses the amulet into the trunk of the Impala and a few weeks later, off the side of the road.

__

"Dean, I'm gonna— I'm going to say yes." His voice is shaking. "I'm going to jump in the Cage and I'm going to take Lucifer with me." He doesn't sound determined even to his own ears. More broken than anything else, half aware he's destined to fail, entirely terrified of succeeding.

"Sorry," he sniffles, "If I thought you were listening, I'd probably try to sound less—" he chokes on a laugh. "Dean, I don't know if I can—"

He takes a steadying breath, then erases and records the message several times until it sounds in turns automated and choked with helplessness.

"I don't think I can do this alone."

He never gets a response.

__

"Sam, I'm disappointed." His voice is half tired, half venomous. "I'm so so disappointed in you— what? You, you can't even—" Would it kill him to call back, just once? He hurls the phone at the ground, crushes the screen under his heel, and goes in to raid Bobby's liquor drawer.

__

He's standing in a pool of blood. The demon he drained is still hanging by the wrists. The bottles of blood make him sick. Probably a good sign except that he thinks he'll flinch at the last second.

He's been standing over the trunk for over an hour staring at the bottles of blood when his phone pings with a voicemail.

"Sam, I'm disappointed." Sam closes his eyes and leans his head against the cool metal of the open trunk. "I'm so so disappointed in you— what? You, you can't even—" There's a crash of the phone being thrown.

Sam sinks to the ground, gravel biting into his knees, and holds his head in his hands.

__

He says yes in Detroit and screams no in his head five years later with his brother's throat under his heel.

[sabo-has-my-heart]

Hello and congratulations for the 750 subscribers. Could I request scenario 12, 10 NSFW dialogue with Ace? Otherwise, always with Ace, scenario 5 and dialogue 11 fluff. No pressure, take your time and chance to decline my request.

So I wrote the second one because I was having a hard time with the NSFW (will probably still write the second one, it'll just take more time)

Warnings: Marineford spoilers, hurt/comfort, angst, fluff, death

Word Count: 960

     It had been 2 years since that day, since the day you’d lost everything. He’d been your life, your world, your heart, your everything. At first, you’d refused to believe it, you’d called Marco a liar but you’d already known he wasn’t lying, you’d known the moment you stopped feeling the rhythmic pulse against your hand. Furthermore, the large burn hole in his chest left no room for interpretation or denial, it left no chance at revival, the love of your life, Portgas D. Ace, was dead. You’d sobbed for weeks after, locked away in your room while the other Whitebeard pirates attempted to take out Blackbeard. When they’d found him, you fought with all you had, you wanted your own revenge now. He’d killed one of your best friends, he’d captured Ace, he’d lead to Ace’s execution, and whatever he’d done to Pops to take his power. You wanted him dead. But you failed. Just like you’d failed to save Ace, you’d failed to kill Teach. For a while, you’d wandered from place to place, not sure what else to do. The Whitebeard Pirates were scattered to the wind, not that you were certain you would have stayed without Ace, you didn’t want to go back to your island, and you didn’t have a crew to sail with, another thing that you weren’t sure you’d want to do without Ace. You were lost without him. Once again, you caught yourself rubbing the ring on your left hand. He’d called you his soulmate when he presented you with the ring… when he’d proposed. From that day until his death, whenever you were worried about him, you’d rub or play with the ring, it’s beat soothing you, reassuring you that he was alright. While you no longer felt his heartbeat through the metal on your hand, you couldn’t bring yourself to take it off. Biting your lip, you tried to hold the tears back, you didn’t have time to cry right now, nor was the middle of the street the place to break down into sobs. Gathering yourself together as best you could, you hurried back to your temporary home. You’d moved to Foosha village, wishing to learn more about what Ace was like as a child, anything to feel close to him again. 

     At first you’d thought the heartbeat that you’d felt against your hand was just your mind playing tricks on you, a sorrow induced hallucination. Until Dadan asked why your ring was pulsing. Then you’d thought that maybe someone had found it and put it on. Except the rings were keyed to you and Ace and he’d been buried with his. You’d run through a dozen possibilities, trying to explain why it was pounding away again, but the only conclusion you’d reached was that somehow, someway, somewhere, Ace was alive. Without his striker or his devil fruit powers, it took him a few months to sail back to Dawn Island. Thankfully, Marco had told him where you’d gone, the young man glad that he didn’t need to go looking for you. Not that he wouldn’t have, he would have scoured the earth for you, but he’d rather be reunited with you sooner rather than later. Ever since the ring had started up again, you’d waited at the docks, hoping that you’d see him on the horizon. The moment his boots hit the dock, you were tackling him, sending him stumbling backwards, almost knocking him over as tears spilled down your face, soaking his chest. Ace put you down, pulling his old yellow shirt out of his pack, trying to wipe your tears away, only for more to take their place.

     “How?” you asked, smiling at him as he continued attempting to dry your tears.

     “Dunno. Just woke up on a hill a couple months ago at the base of my own grave.” he said with a shrug, just as confused as to how he was alive as you were. You laughed, trying to wipe your tears away, happy to have him back.

     “I missed you so much. You were gone and I didn’t know what to do, I was so lost without you.” you said, the tears slowing as you took a few deep breaths, trying to calm down. Ace gave you a sad smile as he caressed your cheek.

     “I’m sorry, I… I didn’t mean to leave you like that. I’m sure you’re mad at me for dying like that, and I know that when we… the whole till death… but I’m technically, I mean, are we still… do you want to still-” you silenced the boy with a finger against his lips, a soft smile on your lips

     “Just kiss me already, Ace” you whispered, caressing his cheek. Ace smiled, pulling you close, his lips pressed against yours in a passionate kiss. The two of you stayed lip locked until you had to breathe, only to pull each other back in again and again once you’d gulped some air down. Neither of you knew, or cared, how long you stood there, kissing each other repeatedly, holding each other, only that it still felt like it wasn’t enough. 

     “I promise, I’ll never leave you again. People still think I’m…” Ace cleared his throat as he looked away, rubbing the back of his neck, “So I mean, we can find somewhere quiet together. Well, hopefully not too quiet, but like, Mt. Corvo is pretty nice, I know it’s not really-” you cut him off again, this time with a soft, sweet kiss.

     “Anywhere is perfect so long as you’re with me.” you said softly, resting your head against him, simply happy to hold him again. He was back with you, you didn’t care how, just that he was with you once more. 

[limitlesses]

𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍. Satoru's time spent in the Prison Realm translated roughly into 40-50 years for him, at least mentally, given how time did not pass normally within its confines. He did his best to spend the majority of it suspended in a near-comatose state of meditation, but that grew difficult given the skeletal company gnawing and clawing at him every waking moment. He had no access to Limitless to any extent or any of his cursed energy in general, making the entire ordeal an unpleasantly powerless and borderline tortuous experience -- though he'll never admit to feeling that way about it.

The Prison Realm's "one escape" being that its prisoner kills themselves cannot be overridden by a temporary death, like stopping his heart for a brief moment, though Satoru considered the gamble of trying and then hoping his RCT could kick in once the Realm released him for being "dead" -- he didn't want to chance the possibility of it not working. In the very real sense, that one way out tried gnawing at him, a temptation, practically demanding he cave, flaying off flesh from bone, constant teeth and boney fingers digging in, ripping, but never dying. The duration of their imprisonment and the treatment they endure is expected to drive any prisoner into insanity and to then take the suicidal route. The skeletons surrounding him tear him apart regularly, cannibalizing flesh at the same rate as it regenerated -- not allowed to die, not allowed to bleed out. No light, no sound other than the noise of his own skin splitting and bones gnawing.

In my verse back before the fall. // 𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐄 𝟎𝟎𝟓. where Satoru is spat out from the Prison Realm back in time, into his teenage body, he is convinced initially that the Realm was simply making him start to hallucinate his life before things went horribly wrong (with Suguru defecting) solely to torment him further. He has difficulty recognizing whether or not the world around him is real, and has breaks in awareness in which he believes himself still stuck within the Realm's grasp if he shuts his eyes for too long. He feels fried, his power's glitchy, and his mind can't adjust to the fact that his body hasn't mastered Domain Expansion yet. He has to play catch-up in more ways than one, all while faced with the very hopeful possibility that this is all real and he can, in fact, reach out to Suguru and help him fight his demons ---- if his own don't bury him first.

Alternatively, in my i have love and dreams too. // 𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐄 𝟎𝟎𝟒. route, Satoru's stability is forcibly maintained because of the circumstances; Sukuna's possession of Megumi, their final fight, take precedence over Satoru experiencing any lasting side-effects from his lengthy stay in the Prison Realm. He doesn't have time to open up about his experience, nor does he find it important enough to mention. But in the month before the final fight, Satoru doesn't sleep at all. In the case of @svgurugeto's canon divergence and him becoming a teacher alongside Satoru, he may in fact confide in Suguru about his time spent there (assuming Shibuya proceeds as canon laid out regardless of Kenjaku having access to Suguru / Suguru being alive, yet him potentially still "used" to draw Satoru in for a minute to be sealed) yet he also won't want to burden Suguru with any guilt if he did, in fact, become sealed because Suguru was used as a weakness.

Either way, the experience has scarred him in more ways than one.

[thearttomb]

I forgot that Blue from my previous animatic of him and Hanshi still have the same running pose, lol. He seems more braver here than how he was in the animatic. Anyway, his mood shifted dramatically in the other timeline since he is haunted by a spirit, Hanshi, who taunts him by dressing as Red.

I was previously working on an art piece that still has to do with the Red Rain timeline, but I have up and decided to work on this instead for a more positive post for a change.

This scene is Blue waking up with a sudden feeling of dread, actually he woke up from a coma that was caused by Hanshi. Hanshi was looking for Blue by cursing him during his journey with the others to save Zelda. Since Blue passed out randomly before bashing Red into a pancake with the mallet, the crew have to take Blue back to help him recover. Hanshi took his time to find Blue, and once he is near, the effect will temporary wear off, just until Blue started to hallucinate. Be extra careful with Hanshi, because you might accidentally cause fatal injuries to anyone once you gave in to the hallucinations like many others have did in the past.

Here is the close up with the alternative version here. That is not Red, yet the case is simular since the story itself is just a teen who bought the items from someone who lured his own twin to the woods. The soul is after his own sibling that caused his death, and would do anything to get back at him, even if he mistaken someone else as his brother.

Hanshi's original place he perished in was the Lost Woods by Saria lake. Mason's place was at one of the woods in Florida by the lake too. Since his soul had been tied to his beloved possessions (The game and the manga itself) along with the rest manifested his resting place, the manga and the game had been rewritten, only for those who now have it gets to hear his cry for help, but since its been years, it died down as the soul itself gotten corrupted, rewriting the manga and the game as a trap to those who bought it.

[flamechasr]

i want to know every single thing in the world i swear

okay. bladie info dump because i am thinking of him and i wanna yap rn (tw suicide and self harm because of how he is.)

he suffers from ptsd, chronic pain, and psychosis: mara fucked him up both mentally and physically as he is often constantly in pain, and it is worsened by the ptsd as symptoms of mara flare up when he remembers too much of his past. besides the fictional illness though it's also the wounds that couldn't be healed, as he does have a past where jingliu stabbed and killed him 1000 times over in a torture-brainwashing method until he was so fucked up that he just can't think about anything anymore besides his revenge and the pain and rage he feels, specifically for the three that needs to pay the price ( dan feng, jingliu, and himself ). and speaking of the reason confuses dan heng for dan feng is because he quite literally can't make the distinction between them. due to the hallucinations. jingliu made him believe that dan feng is responsible for his pain and, faced with his reincarnation, he only sees him as the person he once loved but brought him all this suffering. his mara flares up just by seeing dan heng and there's never really a moment he can even think about him without him hurting and going literally crazy.

his relationship with death: he grew up very close to death, with how his homeland was destroyed and his parents and everyone there was killed, only to then live among immortals as the only mortal. he was very aware of his own mortality and embraced it, yet, faced with death, he feared it too. when he was given the curse of immortality, jingliu tortured him by killing him over and over until his mind was literally broken. on one hand, death is his final escape from the never-ending torture of mara and the pain and the Visions, and yet death is now the furthest thing away from him, a paradise he can't reach, and his only motive to stay alive right now is the revenge he seeks. what's more, even temporary death is a comfort to him. it numbs him, removes him from his pain. kafka killed him and he is so attached to her, he asks jingliu to kill him one last time in her story quest, and she did so as a mercy instead of as torture this time because he's reached the point where that brief moment and feeling of death was almost like a high for him, catharsis.

his relationship with himself: among the long-lived species, yingxing grew up to be very arrogant in spite of his mortality. it's true that he was a talented and famed craftsman at his time, and he prided himself to be basically better than all the immortals despite having such a short life. he even swore that he would never give up his mortality, it was all of this that gave him the sense of individuality, and yet tragedy happened where he was reborn as an empty husk, infected with life. his eyes burned red, his hair regained vitality, his body will forever be intact despite the damage it suffers. he walked through life aimlessly, destroying civilizations in his wake because he has no purpose, he can't craft anything anymore, he can't think anymore, everything that made him feel alive was ripped from him and yet he can't just choose to die. more than that, he is incredibly dependent on kafka to keep him sane as her spirit whisper temporarily suppresses the mara. something something consensual mind control. she tells him not to think about anything and he doesn't. it's the one kindness that the universe gives him, and yet he will never have "himself" back. he's going to live like this forever until he meets his ultimate end.

his relationship with the stellaron hunters: he looks after silver wolf as seen in the lightcone 'before the tutorial mission starts' ( one of my favs ever ). he is also considerably gentle and indulgent with her, letting her use his phone to game and promising her that he would game with her one day although he doesn't know when. he is noted to get along with elio, it's not explained why but i believe it has to do with his own dependency on elio's promise that he will give him a proper burial when he dies permanently. he is very attached to kafka in several ways. he is often exasperated of her and is prone to chiding her due to her nonchalant fearless behavior, but his character story made it a point that he understands kafka ( no one understands her ), he lets her call him 'bladie' ( he threatened the traiblazer when they did that ), he allows himself to be vulnerable with her ( seeks her when he is in pain ), he goes out of his way to look for and protect her, and he is never under her control in those moments - kafka never makes him do anything for her, it's of his own volition that he does things for her, if only to save her from her own recklessness. he fears her mortality as she puts herself in dangerous situations for fun and he wouldn't fare quite as well without her.

his signature lightcone 'the unreachable side' features the story of how he would go to a certain place with the swords of his victims and wonders when someone would bring his sword here, and it's actually the same place as seen in the trailer 'nightmare' where there was his sword, dan heng's spear, and jing yuan's glaive put together. likely foreshadowing an "end" that they will all meet together.

speaking of his sword, it is called the shard sword and it used to belong to jingliu. yingxing specifically made it for her and it ended up in his hands after the whole torture-brainwashing when the sword shattered and jingliu would from then on use a sword made of pure ice, meanwhile blade picked up the sword he created and made it his own, broken like himself.

one of his idles is him hugging the sword and i just think it is so cute that he finds it comforting, as there is also a chibi art where he's sleeping while hugging it and silver wolf and kafka mess with him.

if you look closely his technique is literally him cutting himself to use his blood as sword fodder which is why he loses hp. the sound effect is really eugh to me. least to say i don't use it a lot.

the chinese instrument suona is featured in his trailer, which is commonly used in funeral processions. it's the screeching kinda sound at 1:16. his talent name 'shuhu's gift' references how he got his self-healing ability from consuming the flesh of shuhu, though to him it's more of a curse than a gift.

[trivalentlinks]

since i have been coming up with increasingly niche and unhinged e/q meet-cute concepts lately here’s another:

(warning: temporary character death, mention of child death, references to torture, mention of suicide-adjacent themes)

So it’s about five years pre-canon, while Moreau is at the peak of his power, with Eliot a steady presence by his side, and things are only looking up for him.

Quinn, on the other hand, is not having such a great time. See, he took a job in Egypt that should have been a slam dunk, but what he didn’t know was that he was actually working against a Moreau subsidiary group that was a lot better funded and better connected than he thought.

So Quinn is stuck handcuffed to a chair in a warehouse, held hostage by people who are far more competent than artifact smugglers have any right to be, and he’s resigned himself to a slow, unpleasant death, when suddenly a Mysterious Woman appears out of nowhere.

It turns out, she’s here to offer him a job. She wants him to remove Eliot Spencer from Damien Moreau’s side. She’s not in a huge rush: she’ll give him six months to do it.

She asks Quinn if he can do this and he’s like “Oh, yes, absolutely, I’m definitely the one for this job.”

[This is partly because he thinks that if he takes this job, she’ll at least help him get out of his current predicament (that’s basic manners, right?).

But it’s mostly because he’s an arrogant 25-year-old who really thinks he can take out Damien Moreau’s right-hand man even though last time he went up against a Moreau subsidiary (a week ago) he ended up getting captured and still has no good exit.]

When she smiles at him and offers a hand to shake on the deal, he's about to ask her what he's meant to do with that when he realizes that his right hand seems to have slipped out of the handcuffs, which is a bit weird. When did that happen?

His thumb is dislocated (had it been that way before and he just hadn’t noticed? He's sufficiently fucked up that it's possible, though it seems unlikely), but he quickly uses his mouth to reset his dislocated thumb and shakes on the deal.

After shaking on it, the Mysterious Woman turns around to leave, her heels clicking lightly on the warehouse floor.

"Wait, you're just leaving me here?"

She turns around and raises an eyebrow at him. "Why? Do you need help getting out?"

He glares at her.

"Aisha has a false pocket. Front left. That's how she accesses her hidden knife. Omar has injured his right hand, which he usually uses to draw his gun. It'll take him two seconds to remember to draw with his left."

"That's all you're giving me?"

"If that's not enough, then you must not be the man I thought you were," she says with a smirk before sauntering out.

Which is rude. More than fair, but rude.

In the end, though, it is enough for Quinn to get out and eventually make his way back to his safe-house in Rome.

Once there, he starts to wonder what exactly happened. Was the Mysterious Woman even real? He has never had such a vivid hallucination before, but he was very fucked up (roughed up, drugged, sleep deprived, and dehydrated).

She did give him some good intel that helped his escape, but then again, it was all the kind of info that he would have figured out himself if he weren’t so out of it, so. Could still have been his subconscious mind.

He asks around his contacts a bit (as much as he can without giving the impression that he’s gone round the bend) and finds that nobody’s heard of anyone like her, and who in their right mind would try to go up against Damien Moreau?

After concluding that she was probably a hallucination (which is disturbing, he’ll have to make sure never to fall into that kind of state again), Quinn decides to go on with his life.

Three months later, after a successful job in Chelyabinsk (one shot, through a brick wall, in the dark, after waiting an hour in 20 below freezing temperatures), Quinn goes back to his hotel room and finds the Mysterious Woman, sitting on the armrest of the plush hotel chair, looking like she owns the place and asking him if he’s made any progress on the job.

So, uh, oops. Turns out she was real, and now he has three months to remove Eliot Spencer.

That’s fine, though, Quinn is feeling like he’s on top of the world now, he can totally take down Eliot Spencer.

This turns out much, much harder than expected. Even getting any intel at all about Spencer's whereabouts turns out to be unfairly tricky.

After working his way through Moreau lackeys of various stripes, Quinn finally manages to get close enough to see Spencer at the docks of the Port of Mombasa. Unfortunately, Spencer sees him first, and by the time Quinn's aimed his weapon, Spencer has put a bullet in his chest.

Quinn is pretty sure that the shot he fired hit Spencer, too, but by then Spencer has put another bullet right through his heart, so he doesn't quite have the time to find out.

His last thought is that there are worse ways to die than in a gunfight with Eliot Spencer.

~

~

~

~

~

When Quinn wakes up, everything hurts. Also, he's drugged, sleep deprived, dehydrated, and handcuffed to a chair in a familiar warehouse in Cairo.

He's not too surprised to hear the clicking of stilettos against the warehouse floor and to look up to see the now-familiar Woman.

"You didn't think you could get out of our deal by getting yourself killed, did you?" She asks with a raised eyebrow. "Remove Spencer from Moreau’s side. You have six months."

~

The second time around, Quinn starts the hunt earlier, and manages to sneak up on Spencer at close enough range that the latter doesn't get a chance to draw his gun.

It's too close range for Quinn to use a gun, either, though.

Murdered by Eliot Spencer with his bare hands turns out to be a much less pleasant death.

~

This time, when Quinn wakes up in the warehouse again, the Woman isn't there. She must have figured he knew what he needed to do by then.

~

The third time around, he tries to make use of some of the things he knows from his previous run-throughs.

This goes very badly for him.

Left to die after being worked over repeatedly by an Eliot Spencer who's intent on figuring out where Quinn got his Intel on Moreau's organization is not a pretty way to go at all.

~

Quinn decides to make the fourth run-through about intel collection only.

He survives the six months that time. In those six months, he learns quite a lot about Eliot Spencer.

Not habits or preferences. Spencer doesn’t have those, other than the standard ones of a competent professional. It figures. Habits and preferences could often be turned into weaknesses, so of course, Spencer wouldn’t have those. That would be too easy.

The biggest thing is the depth of Spencer’s loyalty. Spencer would do anything for Moreau. It makes Quinn a little wistful. He’s dealt in that kind of loyalty before. He learned the hard way that it wasn’t for him.

(Quinn doesn’t think it’s for Spencer, either. Sometimes it seems like the things Spencer does for Moreau are killing him inside. But Quinn’s not here to judge.)

Another thing he notices is the accent. Somehow, improbably, unbelievably, despite everything he’s done, Eliot Spencer still speaks homicide with an accent. Quinn couldn’t believe it the first time he saw it. After two more incidents, though, it’s undeniable.

In theory, this should be a weakness. Quinn had known people who couldn’t shake their accents, even after years. They didn’t survive long. (”We all call it an accent, but you know what it actually is, right? It’s being human,” a friend had screamed at him through tears when they were thirteen. She didn’t make it to her fifteenth birthday.)

And yet Quinn knows, as much as he knows anything, that somehow, for Spencer, the accent isn’t a weakness.

It’s unfair, really. That’s the thought on Quinn’s mind as he drifts off to sleep before waking up six months earlier in a damn warehouse.

~

The fifth run-through, Quinn infiltrates Moreau’s organization. This goes remarkably well. By the times he’s six months in, he’s working a job directly under Eliot Spencer. (It helps that he knows from previous run-throughs exactly what he needs to do to get promoted as quickly as possible.)

Quinn doesn’t lose track of time, exactly. He knows precisely when his deadline to get rid of Eliot Spencer is.

He does get a little distracted, though. Who could blame him? Working with Eliot Spencer is incredible. He’s learning so much, and hey, it’s not like he’s in that much of a rush. If this iteration he doesn’t kill Eliot in time, there’s always the next one. He can just call it another intel-gathering round.

(And if that doesn’t explain how bereft he feels when he’s pulled back six months into the past, well. He doesn’t owe anyone an explanation, anyway.)

~

The sixth run-through, he manages to start working with Eliot much earlier.

It’s a good run-through.

The first time he spars with Eliot happens in this one. The first time Eliot smiles at him and calls him a show-off after he takes Eliot down with a perfect flying scissor sweep. (It’s a fair criticism, but hey. If you’ve got it, flaunt it.)

It’s also the one where he gets to know Eliot’s sense of humour, the way his lip twitches and he ducks his head sometimes when he’s trying to hide a smile.

This one was just for intel, too.

~

On the seventh run-through, Quinn finds out that Eliot has surprisingly strong opinions about proper julienne technique for someone who refuses to do any cooking himself. This will need more investigation.

~

On the ninth run-through, he actually manages to goad Eliot into making dinner for him. It’s a waste, Quinn muses, for this kind of talent to go so unused.

~

On the twelfth run-through, Eliot admits to Quinn, on a late-night stake-out, that he’s not entirely sure that Quinn is real.

“It’s just... sometimes it feels like you were custom made by G-d for me,” Eliot says.

“That’s surprisingly romantic of you,” Quinn says.

“Not like that,” Eliot growls, glaring at Quinn. “I just meant that you remind me what it’s like to feel alive. You do it so easily, like you were made for it.”

“You do realize that that’s even more romantic, right?”

“Or maybe you were just sent to kill me,” Eliot says with a roll of his eyes.

Quinn freezes for a moment, just for a fraction of a second before he remembers to snort at the joke and keep a light tone as he says, “Maybe I was.”

Eliot catches the way Quinn paused, though. He narrows his eyes. "Wait, what was that? I know you aren't actually here to kill me, because you’ve passed up at least half a dozen good opportunities to do it."

Quinn swallows. "I was offered a job to kill you once, some time ago," he admits.

"Why'd you turn it down?"

"Who'd be crazy enough to take a job like that?"

Eliot smiles at that, as Quinn intended, but Quinn can't shake the off feeling the conversation had put in him.

The next morning, he cuts the run-through short.

~

The thirteenth run-through Quinn tries to kill Damien Moreau. The job was to remove Eliot from Damien's side, and that should count, right?

He fails. For all the times that Eliot has trusted Quinn with his life, he would never trust him with Damien's.

Well, it has been a while since Quinn has been killed by Eliot Spencer.

~

The fourteenth run-through, Quinn does manage to take out Damien Moreau.

His resulting death at Eliot's hand is slow and brutal, but he does console himself with the thought that at least this one will be permanent.

It isn't.

The Woman appears again, this time.

"You wanted him removed from Damien's side, I removed him from Damien's side! That should have counted," Quinn rages at her.

"If you think Spencer's loyalty would have died with Moreau, then you must not understand either of them."

~

On the fifteenth iteration, Quinn relives all of his favourite moments.

His favourite jobs that he shared with Eliot. The exhilarating ones when they worked together like a well-oiled machine, and the quiet ones where he saw the softer parts of Eliot that the latter usually kept hidden.

The time he goaded Eliot into cooking for him. The time they destroyed the kitchen when they tried to cook together.

The time he found just the right song and the right mood to get Eliot to sing along to the radio on the drive back to the airport after a nice, clean job in Krakow.

(He doesn't relive the time Eliot told him with palpable guilt and shame about the man who had taught him to use his knife to create rather than destroy. The man who had tried to save him from himself.)

He relives all his favourite moments and tries to carve the memories into stone.

~

The sixteenth iteration, he kills Eliot Spencer at the first opportunity. (Before Spencer comes to like or trust him. Before he would see it as any kind of betrayal.)

As soon as it’s done, without even checking whether he got paid, Quinn calls the agents he’s worked with until he finds one who offers him a job that he can start immediately. It’s a long one that looks like it will be dangerous and difficult. Exactly what he needs.

He only makes it one day into the job, though. That first night, he goes to bed only to wake up back in that damned warehouse again.

“What the fuck?” Quinn yells out, when he sees the Woman casually leaning against the wall. “I did exactly what you fucking wanted this time!”

“I said remove him from Moreau's side. I didn’t say to do this by killing him.”

“You... didn’t say not to,” Quinn says, furrowing his brow.

“That’s fair,” the Woman acknowledges with a tilt of her head. “It’s the same to me anyway, so if that’s how you want to play it, fine. Just close your eyes and count down from 10, and you’ll wake up back on that job you lined up looking for that monkey. I won’t save you from Moreau trying to hunt you down for killing his right hand man, though.”

She takes a step forward and bends down to look at Quinn at eye level. “Is that how you want to play this?”

"... What choice do I have?”

“You can’t think of any other way to do this job?”

Quinn thinks of all the moments he shared with Eliot, the happy ones and the more painful ones. He thinks about the guilt in Eliot’s eyes as he told him about Toby. He thinks about Eliot admitting late one night that Quinn made him feel alive. He remembers Eliot inadvertently reminding him of what his job was (what he thought his job was?).

“Well?” The Woman asks. “Can you think of another way you’d rather do this job?”

Quinn smiles up at her. “Absolutely.”

This will be interesting.

[End]

Edit: Now on AO3 here! If you liked it, I’d really appreciate a kudos/comment there <3

[serendipityjxmn]

Mr. President

Chapter 20

TW: Explicit violence, mentions of guns, drugs trafficking, gory killing scene

Words Count: 3k

Link to Masterlist

Link to Chapter 21

At first, you’re more like a property to him. He learned that the only way he can keep something or someone around for a long time, is if he treats them like a property. Because human’s feelings change, and he needs to protect himself from hurting.

Everything that he’s told you, the reason behind the marriage, the purpose of you are all true.

He needs to marry anyway, as one of the stupid ancient condition his old father has set and he knows his father had set it to make him stay grounded.

He scoffs, wondering why his father doesn’t learn from his past mistakes. And that’s why he’s made a plan on his own, to marry someone without a powerful background, one he can easily dispose when it’s time, one who won’t be a liability to him. A tool.

And now that tool is missing. He pinches his temple, eyes shut close. He’s alone in his office, late at night because he doesn’t sleep well these days.

Since his wife had packed her bags, left him and gone missing.

He sighs thinking about the last argument he had with you. It’s your own fault for building castles in the air and mistaking those as his genuine gesture and fall in love with him. And he realises that because he is not stupid. And during that one night, he sees you, fully sees you and he can’t deny the desire it stirred in his mind. This may be a temporary marriage but it doesn’t mean that he can’t touch you. After all, you are his wife. He knows you are beautiful, he’d known it since the first day because he isn’t blind. Yet he knows he can’t touch you without your consent. Although he did slip up because he tends to lose his vigilance around you. And that’s how he came up with another proposal.

Yet the proposal took a very different turn and became your last straw to leave him.

He couldn’t believe that you’re stupid enough to fall in love with him. Don’t you fear him? You know he’s dangerous yet you still confess your love to him and he doesn’t know whether to worship you at your feet or spanks you for it.

He’s never led you on and has never failed to remind what you are to him, simply an object yet you still fall for him.

He lets out another heavy sigh. Because frankly, he doesn’t know what to do. All of these aren’t supposed to happen and you’re not supposed to love him.

He had put up barriers and boundaries around himself and that’d made it very hard for anyone to simply approach him. People don’t approach him unless they want something from him and he’s well aware of it because he knows how the world works. Not to mention the fact that he’s the leader of the biggest mafia gang, notorious for all sorts of services they offer; machinery, assassinations, bribery, illegal weaponry, drugs trafficking and namely everything else. That had made it a billion times more difficult for anyone to approach or him to let anyone in.

And you’re well aware of it.

But you still fall for him.

He just doesn’t get it; how you’re able to fall for him despite knowing who he is and what he’s capable of.

He scoffs thinking how he could easily kill you. You’re too soft, weak and fragile.

Yet you still fall for him.

Despite knowing how easily he could kill you.

And without asking for anything in return.

And Jimin doesn’t find that believable at all. And at the face of such genuine adoration, he doesn’t know what to do. Because who on earth would be stupid enough to do that?

But you did. You are his stupid wife.

And that makes it even easier to kill you, not just by him. And the thought of anyone laying a finger on you angers him. It makes him want to kill someone. Tear their limbs one by one. Burn them alive. There’s just too many options.

But first he has to find you.

He sighs, for the hundredth time. You’re such a headache.

And that’s when his phone rings. A call from a private number.

“If it isn’t Y/N’s beloved husband..”

Jimin could feel his whole body tensing. “Who are you?”

The person from the other end laughs. “Damn, I need to come find you more often so you’d remember. You beat me into a pulp before.. and now I want leverage. You think you can just take my sister for free?“

Jimin’s hand clamp in a tight fist. “Jay.”

“You remember.. not bad. You see, when you take my little sister, you’ve caused me some complications. You can say she’s my source of income. She’s a pretty slut, no denying that. And I could’ve earned fortunes from selling her off. And you-“

“How much do you want?” Jimin cuts him off.

“Ah.. you’re a smart man.” He laughs before his tone turns serious again. “100 million won would do. For now. And don’t bullshit me saying you don’t have money or whatever. I know you have that much.”

“Where should I meet you?”

“I’ll text you the time and place. And don’t think of calling the police or bring your little friends. I have someone powerful backing me. She’s my little sister, but I’m not gonna hesitate to do anything if you don’t listen to my words. Right, little sister?”

A shrieking scream piercing through the phone is the last thing Jimin hears before Jay hangs up. Jimin’s whole body filled with rage and he grips his phone so tight it almost breaks into two.

“He’s not gonna come...” you slur, your vision not entirely clear and your swollen lips making it hard to enunciate words once Jay finishes his phone call to your husband.

“We’ll see about that bitch. And if he doesn’t.. count your time now..” he says in full malicious tone.

You don’t know how long you’ve been knocked out again but you wake up when you hear commotions.

“And the knight is finally here.” You hear your brother’s voice.

You struggle to focus on your vision. Your whole body freezes when your husband comes into view.

There’s no way Jimin’s here.

Perhaps it’s just a hallucination.

It’s a whole level of pathetic, you think. Because even when you’re in this state, he’s all you could see.

Perhaps you’re really nearing the end of your life, and your mind conjures whatever it desperately wants the most.

“Clara, what the fuck do you think you’re doing here?” The person hisses.

And it’s weird because it’s your husband’s voice.

You blink several times.

And there really is your husband, walking into the warehouse alone. He can’t had possibly willingly walks into a lion’s den alone like that? It’s like a death wish.

Clara turns immediately as soon as she sees Jimin. “Ah.. Jimin.. my Jimin..”

Someone comes and pushes Jimin forward and makes him sit on a chair and tie his hands on his back.

You swallow thickly. You still can’t process the fact that your husband is here.

He finally turns to look at you and he stares at you for several moments, just taking in the sight of battered you covered in bruises and blood and you see the clench in his jaw.

You let out a gasp when the guy standing beside him takes out his gun and points the muzzle on the back of his head. You feel anger bubbling inside you at the sight of it.

Gathering all source of strength, you yell, “Leave my husband out of this Jay!”

Jay quickly steps forward and leaves a stinging slap on your cheek. “If you dare hurt him..” you start and earns another slap from him, making you whimper in pain. You cough several times, your throat feels like burning.

Jimin eyes you furiously. “Keep quiet. Don’t make any sound.” He says, jaw still clenched very tightly. “Clara, what the fuck is this? Why are you here?”

She comes and slowly sits on Jimin’s lap. You notice how he doesn’t flinch away or jerk from her touch. “Baby.. we’ve dealt for years.. good business, good sex. And then you’re suddenly married and you just.. I don’t know, changed?” She says as she runs her fingers across your husband’s cheek.

Jimin just glares at her. “Why did you help him?”

She runs her hand down from his cheeks to his jaw and then settles on his chest, palms flat against them. She shrugs then. “I don’t know.. you know I’m a little crazy. I like having fun. And things.. had been boring. Business is boring, you are boring.. and perhaps I’m trying to put you in place a little, you asshole.” She glares at him.

He gives a very murderous look. “I’m gonna make sure you regret this.”

She leans closer. “Awww shh baby.. I’m not gonna hurt your precious little wife..” and closer. You realize she’s about to kiss him and you hastily look away. You don’t want the last memory you have of your husband before you die is being kissed by another woman. She gets up from his lap, fingers still faintly brushing him everywhere. Then she smirks. “But maybe he will.” She laughs and then exits through the door.

“Did you come with what I ask for?” Jay asks and Jimin juts his chin towards a large black duffel bag on the floor beside him that you hadn’t realized. Jay grins. “Nice doing business with you.. brother in law.”

“Now let us go.” Jimin says.

Jay stops inspecting the money inside the bag and turns to look at him. “No, don’t think it’s that easy..” He signals something and one of his men comes forward. “See, perhaps you don’t really know my sister.. but let me tell you this. She is a fucking whore. And I’m gonna let her be a whore. And you.. you’re going to watch every single men here stick their dick into her pussy.”

Your whole body goes numb as soon as you hear that. Desperately, you glance at your husband. He doesn’t look at you but instead just stares at your brother. You’ve never seen him look so murderous before. Your eyes widen in panic when they pull you from the chair and then roughly push you till you’re kneeling on the floor on all four.

“J-Jimin-” you say, voice thick with desperation.

“Sshh.. shh little sister.. don’t worry.. perhaps your husband might even get hard from this. Don’t you want to please your husband?” Jay smirks.

You feel you eyes start to water when your brain reaches an end and think that there’s no way of escaping this.

He calls one of his men and several others starts to approach as well, all wearing the same look of lust. Jay grabs a handful of your hair and yank it backwards, forcing you to look up. “She’s all yours..”

The nearest guy smirks and licks his lips as he looks at you and starts to strip his pants. You look away immediately. You let out a cry when the guy kneels beside you and yanks your jeans down, exposing your bottom.

“No, no please, please-“ you start to beg and Jimin hisses.

“Keep your fucking mouth shut.” He grits. “Don’t beg.”

You look at him and find him staring right back at you.

“Just look at me.” He says and fresh set of tears run down your cheeks.

The guy smacks your behind making you cry in pain and you almost collapse to the ground but he holds your waist firmly, groping each side harshly. Then, you feel a hand slides from your shoulder towards your throat and slowly starts choking you.

Your head starts to spin from the lack of air supply and you want to scream so badly but no words could come out. The pressure on your throat is so immense and your lung starts to ache.

Then you see a knife hovering in front of you.

A moment of realization hits you that you’re really about to die and it suddenly makes it so imperative that you tell something to Jimin.

“J-Jimin- I love-“

But before you could finish your words, you hear people bursting the doors open and people in suits come rushing in large quantity.

You try to focus your vision on your husband.

His face is calm. Too calm.

Your sight moves towards the crowd rushing in again and briefly sees Taeseok among them and a rush of relief runs through you. The guy choking you eases his grip on your throat instantly as he gets distracted and you feel like collapsing immediately as you struggle to breath again.

Everything happens so quickly. Someone rushes to your husband’s side and unties him and then he’s beside you instantly while someone else unties you. You try your best to glance behind you and sees Jungkook frantically untying you after fixing your clothes.

“Y/N oh my god-“

Jimin quickly shrugs his coat off his shoulder and immediately covers you. He looks at you as he holds you tight. His embrace is so warm and you just want to close your eyes and lean against him. “Keep your eyes open, we’re getting out of here.” He says roughly.

You’re not entirely sure with your vision but you think someone gives Jimin a gun and he starts shooting at people and you freeze, sounds blaring so loudly in your ear. You let out a strangled scream and you squirm away under his embrace that he looks down immediately. Then he looks at Jungkook.

“Jungkook.” He says and Jungkook nods and you feel yourself slipping out of Jimin’s hold while Jungkook brings you flush against him.

For a moment, there are just sounds of guns, people screaming and punches being thrown.

Jungkook pulls you to the side where it’s safer but you just can’t shut your eyes when there’s too many things going on. You then try to focus on your husband. He’s a good few metres away from you and you couldn’t clearly see the face of the other person but you think Jimin’s holding the guy that was going to rape you just now. And then he shoots him right in the head without thinking. And then another shot right at his chest even though the guy’s already crumbling to the ground, lifeless.

Someone then comes up and thrusts your brother to Jimin, making him kneel in front of your husband. You don’t see it before but you now notice that he’s holding a knife on his right hand. Jay’s expression turns horror as Jimin nears him. And then slowly, your husband carves his face with the knife as your brother’s inhuman shriek fills the warehouse.

Your eyes go wide with horror as you watch the traumatising scene unfolds. You feel a scream bubbling from deep inside your throat yet they’re unable to escape from your lips. Your throat somehow still feels constricted.

“Holy fucking shit.” Jungkook mutters and you realize his grip on your arms tightens.

It’s slowly getting more quiet in the warehouse as most of your brother’s or Clara Kim’s men are now dead as they were hugely outnumbered by Jimin’s people. You then realize that he’s taking his time with your brother.

“What did you say you’re about to do to my wife? Cut out her face?” He chuckles. “Let me show you the real art.”

He leans close.

And then he carves your brother’s right eye out while he shrieks in pain.

“This is for touching my wife.”

And then he carves the other one.

“This is for messing with me.”

The scream finally escapes your lips.

“Fuck-“ Jungkook says and quickly covers your eyes and mouth.

The screaming doesn’t stop for a few more minutes and you think you’ll remember your brother’s inhuman scream till the day you die.

“Jimin stop it. She’s gonna get a trauma.” You hear someone says. Jin..?

You hear footsteps approaching you and then suddenly, Jungkook’s hand is being yanked away and your husband’s face comes into view. His forehead beaded with sweat and his expression furious.

You look at him in horror, frankly still traumatised and terrified at him.

But he doesn’t seem to notice. Instead, he thrusts a gun into your hand. “Do you want to kill him?”

Your panic immediately and clutched his arm desperately. “No, no please- let’s just go-“

“Ssh.. ssh I’m here.” He takes back the gun. “And we’re gonna get out of here.” He pulls you into his embrace, cocks the gun and fire a shot straight into Jay’s head.

Your entire body freeze. You watch in horror as your brother’s life starts seeping out, his breathing ragged until finally.. it stops.

“Good God- did you really have to shoot him in front of Y/N?” You hear Namjoon says.

“What?” Jimin asks, confused.

“God, you’re so stupid sometimes Park Jimin.” Yoongi says roughly.

Your husband finally turns to look at you and registers the paleness of your face. “Y/N, you okay?” He asks and then makes you stand to your feet. He keeps his hand steady on your waist and you’re thankful because you can’t feel your feet at all.

You don’t know how but from the corner of your eyes, you see someone who’s lying on the floor slowly lifts a gun and your eyes widen when you realize he’s aiming at your husband.

One of Jimin’s bodyguard sees it too and moves to kick the gun away and he did- but not before the guy cocks the gun and all the bodyguard manages to do is change the target, because the bullet hits you instead.

You fell to the ground immediately when the bullet cuts through your shoulder. It’s weird because it hurts so much that you almost feel nothing at all.

Jimin’s eyes widen when he sees you.

For a brief moment, you think you see your whole life flashes by in your mind very quickly.

If you die right now at the hands of your husband.. that you’d fallen in love with.. it doesn’t seem so bad..

You smile.

Then slowly, you bring your hand up to Jimin’s face to touch him one last time.

And then everything blacks out.

A/N: I rarely write post chapter notes because I’m afraid it would destroy your emotions lol but I just wanna thank everyone who had given support since day 1.. the story would not have come this far without the kind words you guys gave me. I feel a little bit emotional because we’re almost more than halfway through with their journey.. haha okay I’ll stop here. see you guys in the next chap! 🥰

Buy me a coffee here! 💜

Link to Chapter 21

Posted on 210516 9:00PM

[nevertheless-moving]

Suicidal Misunderstanding X

Star Wars Time Travel AU #27

Part I - - - - - Part II - - - - - Part III - - - - - Part IV - - - - - Part V - - -  - - Part VI - - - - - Part VII - - - - - Part VIII - - - - - Part IX

“I realize this is incredibly difficult,” the Nautolan Soul Healer said calmly. “But in order for us to help Obi-Wan, we need to determine the cause of his current disconnection with reality. Based on the drug panel, and convenient surveillance, we have, to the best of our ability, ruled out temporary psychosis brought on by a drug interaction.”

Cody stiffened further, not sure how to react to anything anymore. When a brother tried to end his own life, it was usually obvious why.

Sife Aerdo continued on. “There have, of course, been cases of Jedi Seers giveing into their fears of the future, or losing their sense of reality, but every case study involving such an extreme reaction was the result a gradual degradation over the course of many years. Nevertheless, it seems clear that Obi-Wan experienced a vision, and it may have impacted his breakdown to some extent. The more we know, the more successful any attempts to convince him of reality will be.”

Bant furrowed her brow in thought, trying to replay three decades of increasingly vague discussions of nightmares.

”Considering the high profile nature of his position, we cannot rule out some kind of psychological attack, perhaps even a darksider incursion.

Anakin leaned forward intently, the inside of his skull buzzing with white noise.

"All that being said, we must be prepared to treat Obi-Wan’s self harm as the  culmination of a long and quiet mental health struggle. He would not be the first in the Order to disguise such a thing with durasteel self-discipline.”

At that, Bant and Mace took a moment to release their feelings to the force, while Anakin raised his shields defensively.

Master Aerdo finally hesitated, before continuing in the same smooth tone. “I would ordinarily prefer to structure this kind of conversation quite differently- allow Obi-Wan time to share his feelings first and invite you each separately to support him in the healing process. But he’s gone from fighting sedatives and force compulsions as though the fate of the galaxy depended on it, to a self-induced coma. All while barely lucid, yet still somehow maintaining Master Class mental shielding. We need to get a better understanding of his mental landscape if we’re going to even begin the process of treatment."

It is necessary to note that everyone in that room had led, in one way or another, a somewhat miserable life. This was the main reason none of them could claim that the next five hours were the worst they had ever experienced. 

“But he’s always had terrible sleeping habits.” Anakin said hoarsely.

“Yes, but I think they got worse after Qui-Gon passed,” Bant argued, not sure what point she was making. 

“When I pointed out he couldn’t be getting more than three hours a night he told me that he could manage on meditation” Cody offered irritably.

“That’s technically true,” Mace confirmed. “If the Master in question is well-balanced otherwise”

“So its like his eating habits, crushing responsibilities, and repeated exposure to violence, then? Completely fine for a Jedi, in less it’s not, in which case it’s a major red flag?” 

“I think it would help to establish a timeline.“

Aerdo actually dredged up old mission reports, leading to the group reluctantly contacting Ashoka for her memories of Mortis.

At her Master’s insistence, she told them everything she remembered, hazy as it was, nervously elaborating on her own memories of falling. To her confusion, Master Windu all but brushed past that, assuring her that the important thing with stepping into darkness was the choice to the return to the light. Anakin bizarrely agreed with Windu. Out loud. Unnerved by the cooperation more than anything, she put her holographic foot down and demanded to know what was going on. 

Anakin took the comm-link into a separate room to speak privately.

Upon return, he informed the group (with a visibly red and puffy face) that Kit would be escorting her back from Mount Cala cleanup early, daring anyone to disagree. Windu nodded and the conversation continued on.

Together they rewatched holo-footage of Obi-Wan laughing amongst Ghost company the night before last, and debated reports from psychometric investigators who had scoured the cantina as well as Obi-Wan’s personal quarters for traces of illicit substances. Between that and another drug panel, they were finally forced to conclude that despite the timing, the alcohol at most confused Obi-Wan’s perception of a vision, or possibly simply loosened his tongue.

Bant prodded Cody to repeat every word from the holocar ride to the temple, taking furious notes. Cody was unable to stop the heat that crawled up his face.

Just when the looming horror of Obi-Wan actually preparing to intentionally die started to break over Anakin, Windu interjected.

“You don’t see what I do,” the Harun Kal said grimly. “Something galaxy-sized shattered around Obi-Wan and he didn’t break from it. The closest comparison I have is Master Yaddle’s presence when she meditated on her confinement. He’s chosen to keep going, even when, quite frankly, death would be a release. We’re missing something fundamental.”

“He said there were ‘other dark forces at work.’ Even if the fight was objectively hopeless... there’s no way he would choose to die because of it!” Anakin agreed vehemently, shaking off morbid fears.

“But he did choose to die.” Cody said quietly. And the wind went out of Anakin’s sails.

“Lets go back.”

Anakin gritted his teeth as they picked apart everything ‘unusual’ Obi-Wan had said and done leading up to his visit with Bant.

“What exactly did he...”

“So Plo Koon was able to get a read through his shields?”

“Did he have anything to eat?”

“How did that compare to...”

“When he's mentioned things in the future...did it seem good or bad to you?” Bant asked.

“Bad.” Cody and Anakin said in unison. Remembering the trip to the temple Cody spoke again, “Definitely bad.”

“Right. When we were talking he sometimes used the wrong tenses for things, people. I confronted him on not knowing ‘when’ he was after Knight Skywalker left. He told me that he knew what was real, but he was “enjoying not fully living in the moment” he also said that he intended to “wake up”

“Enjoying? That’s the exact word he used?” Cody asked incredulous. 

“He did seem...mostly happy yesterday. Giddy, at points.” Anakin said, slumping in on himself.

Bant looked at her notes once more before addressing the group.

“This isn’t vision psychosis in any manner I’ve heard of before...but I think I might have a theory. He used to have intense visions when we were kids; plenty of us did sometimes, but Obi-Wan would be unable to sleep after. What terrified him more than anything was the uncertainty that he might make the wrong choice- even when the vision was about something good, or neutral. His visions gradually stopped coming around puberty. We just had a conversation about this a few months ago- how relieved he was to only have to manage flashes of precognition. If he had a random, horrifying vision of a terrible future...suicide wouldn’t be his reaction. It’s too final.”

“Even if he blamed himself for what he saw coming?” Mace asked.

“Especially if he blamed himself.” Bant said. 

“What’s your theory?” Aerdo prodded.

“What if...what if he was telling the truth when he said he could separate out what was real and what was not? What if there was no distortion or blurring between now and then? What if he was just wrong about which was which?”

“That...would be a very extreme and abnormal manifestation of force-induced psychosis. He has training in distinguishing reality from visions. The continued presence of his mental shielding means that the fabric of his mind can’t be so horrifically collapsed in on itself.” 

“What if the vision was actually that realistic?” Bant said, pushing back against the soul healer. “So detailed and vivid that it effectively was a reality in itself, and everything else, all of us...”

“Were just memories” Anakin finished. “It would...actually explain pretty much everything. You said he wanted to wake up and when...when I found him.” He stopped, swallowing. “When I found him, he argued with me...what if he wasn’t trying to hurt himself? If you’re right...that would mean I found him trying to get back to reality.”

“It could explain his behavior in the halls...his desperation to wake...” Sife mused “But it runs counter to every other experience I’ve had with those managing prophetic visions. Master Windu, could that explain the shatterpoints you saw?”

“I’m not certain. It would have to have been extraordinarily real to create the echos of Shattering I witnessed. I don’t know if that depth of vision has occurred before, but then again, many things are possible in the force.”

“You really think he might have been...trying to wake up from dream? By killing himself?!” Cody asked incredulous.

“If that ends up being what happened I am going to give him such shit. That is the worst way to end a vision.” Anakin replied.

“Yes. It is.” Bant said pointedly. “That’s why it’s a last resort, after every other attempt to wake fails.” 

They all sat in silence, processing various implications. Cody was unnerved by another terrifying insight into force powers, as well as the idea that the General might vividly remember Cody being inexplicably mind-controlled into trying to kill him. Anakin was trying to understand what this would mean for them, and the conversations he had thought they had had. Did...any of it count, if he thought he was offering it to a hallucination?

“Alright, this is a valuable working idea, but let’s make sure to examine everything with an open mind before we draw any more conclusions. Anakin, what happened after you left the healers office?”

Obi-Wan’s critique of the practicalities of visiting a soul healer could be and was interpreted multiple ways. The incongruity of peacekeepers in war sparked a rehash of earlier discussion. More apologies. Self identifying as ‘crazy’ inspired new debate, especially in the context of the new theory. 

“When I saw him enter the fountain room I assumed he had had a brutal run-in with  dark force user.” Windu explained. “Based on everything we’ve gone over, I don’t understand when...but some of the more insidious sith compulsions work by taking whatever small anger or hurt you feel and magnifying them until they consume you. If Obi-Wan was already experiencing self loathing...”

Cody sucked in a breath. “Then a Sith mind suggestion would bring him to commit suicide. It...sounds like something he might do, if he was partially in control. Take the blow rather than let himself be used as a weapon against anyone else, even his worst enemy.”

“Hells, it could have been an even vaguer compulsion, driving him to attack the person he hates the most,” Bant added darkly.

Anakin buried his head in his hands, trying to hold it together. He couldn’t afford to lose control or get angry. Hells, getting angry at Obi-Wan for ‘failing him’ when in pain could be the reason Obi-Wan was currently in the healing halls. The man said he loved him unconditionally, then practically had a breakdown over how much Anakin pushed that unconditional love to the breaking point, then killed himself. How was he supposed to-

“Anakin? Are you alright to continue?” someone said.

“Yes. No. There’s more I have to tell you...I don’t know if it will help but - it was hurting Obi-Wan...I...”

“Let’s just take it one step at a time. What happened after you left Mace?”

Apparently even Cody somehow knew more about Bruck Chun than Anakin. Master Windu and Eerin told different sides of the same sad story, which spiraled back into a conversation about Obi-Wan’s inadequacy issues, which somehow devolved into a long rant about Qui-Gon Jinn that Master Windu had apparently been holding back for years. 

“My apologies.” He said afterwards, clearing his throat as the group stared, taken aback. “Old grievances. Go on Anakin, what did happened after you got to the ‘secret spot.’”

“He...was skirting around whatever was bothering him...I pushed him...told him I wanted to help...he said I couldn’t...because it was me...because of what I...”

Anakin stood up suddenly, feeling the walls of the room closing in.

“I’m sorry- I’m sorry I-” 

He ran out.

He turned around almost immediately, pacing in the small corridor, knowing he couldn’t leave, simply needing a minute to catch his breath.

Master Windu followed him out after a moment, not saying anything, just standing there. Watching him.

“What!” Anakin finally snapped. “What do you have to say that I don’t know already!”

“Knight Skywalker-”

“Don’t call me that! I DON’T DESERVE-” 

Anakin let out a frustrated snarl, punching a wall. The crumble of stone beneath this fist briefly made him feel better, but then he remembered Obi-Wan’s heartbroken expression in the light of an underworldly glow, and the tiny, choked sound he heard when the healers moved him and Anakin just...collapsed, falling to his knees.

Master Windu sank down gracefully beside him.

“Anakin. This isn’t about attachment issues, is it.”

“Not really, no. I mean, maybe you’ll blame attachment but it’s more about...”

“Anger.”

Anakin looked up at that, trying to regain the meditative calm he had felt for a glimmering moment yesterday, right in-between making peace in the cave and everything burning to ash. 

“You know that I have had my own struggles with anger. It is how and why I came to develop Vaapad.” 

“Yes, but you’ve Mastered your anger. And you’ve never...never given in to hate.”

A beat passed and Windu watched some of Skywalker’s familiar breaking points flicker into view. 

“You’ve done something. Something you know the Jedi won’t forgive.”

“Obi-Wan forgave me.” Anakin said, whispering. “He said that even though I couldn’t fix what I did he loved me anyway and I just needed to...to honestly regret what I did and not do it again. I told him I’d get rid of my lightsaber and I meant it and...I thought he forgave me. I was ready to go to the Council with him, come clean about everything. And then I left him alone to get dinner and when I came back...he was holding my lightsaber. My lightsaber.” 

Anakin buried his face in his hands, shuddering with creeping cold.

“I’m not going to critique your and Obi-Wan’s attachment to each other right now. I’m well aware that much of the order has turned to personal ties to maintain their stability given the ongoing horrors of war. I am, for many reasons, wary of the risks this brings us, yet it is also true that risks do not automatically mean failure. I myself have mastered my emotions in a different manner than conventional wisdom councils.” 

Windu spoke carefully. For all that he and Anakin had similar relationships with the force, they rarely saw eye to eye on any given subject. At a certain point, Mace had accepted that the volatile young man was determined to find the worst possible interpretation for anything he said. And Mace was not the order’s most patient diplomat.

“As for your crime, whatever it is, l will tell you this: Unless you choose to renounce the code and leave our number, you will be treated as a Jedi Knight, subject to our protections, as well as our judgement. You will receive appropriate mental counseling. If you are judged to be a danger to those around you, your actions will be curtailed and monitored, possibly through temporary confinement.  The Jedi do not believe in punitive measures for their own sake, but you may be required to provide restitution to those you harmed, perhaps indefinitely. 

Silence hung perilously between them. Windu watched a tremor run through the unfathomable kaleidoscopic of shatterpoints that had orbited Skywalker since he was a boy. A small one broke inward, and an attached tangle of larger, darker ones fell away, crumbling to dust. The rest faded from view, invisible for the moment. A choice had been made, some decision that closed off at least one path to the darkside.

“There’s no one to make restitutions to.”

“...You’re going to have to elaborate on that.”

“Let’s go back inside- I don’t want to do this twice.”

They returned to the increasingly hated meeting room.

Anakin spoke in an outpouring of words about love and hate, about misplaced revenge and now uncertain forgiveness. When he finally finished, the room was deathly silent.

The three Jedi sat quietly while Cody pinched the bridge of his nose. “I guess this is why Jedi have the no attachment rule, huh? I admit I never really got it, but I suppose even if I-”

Bant abruptly lunged up, fumbling to bring her lightsaber to Anakin’s neck. Everyone jumped to their feet, except for Anakin, who stared at Bant with a wretched expression.

“MASTER EERIN! This is not-”

“Did you do it?” she asked, ignoring the Master of the Order.

“Bant!”

“It was my first thought after I saw him. We all rushed in expecting a fight, or a bomb, only to find you, insane, and him with a hole next to his heart. I didn’t want to believe it of course, but you’ve always had a violent streak that Obi-Wan, force help him, couldn’t quite soothe away. A fight gone wrong. Master Windu said it was suicide, and I believed him, and I’ve been trying to make sense of that ever since. But Mace found you after, didn’t he? After you felt guilty? Did you think he was going to turn on you?”

“Bant Eerin, you are dangerously-”

“No.” Anakin whispered.

“Obviously I might be why. But I didn’t- I couldn’t. I know I’m not good but I can’t even imagine- holding a saber against him like that. Kriff, do you not get how much I can’t handle losing people I love? I was insane when you saw me because I saw someone trying to kill Obi-Wan and I couldn’t even fight them.”  

Bant held his gaze for several lingering seconds, deactivated her saber and dropping it with a clatter. They stared at each other, breathing heavily and not blinking. She returned to her seat, moving jerkily. “I apologize Knight Skywalker. That was uncalled for.” 

“I wish I could say I wouldn’t have done the same thing in your shoes” he responded lowly. Bant made a tiny, unintelligible noise in reply. 

Cody collapsed back into his chair, holstering his blaster.  “Alright then...so after you finished sitting in the fountain room...what happened next?”

Everyone stared at him.

“What?”

“You’re handling Anakin’s confession somewhat dispassionately. We’re simply surprised.” Mace said slowly, returning to his seat at the same time as Master Aerdo fell into theirs.

Cody shifted uncomfortably. “The vod were trained in a wide range of enemy suppression tactics. While we’re extremely glad the Jedi have never asked us to employ them, I’m not...unfamiliar with this scale of deliberate slaughter. At least in the hypothetical, sir.”

“I see.” Aerdo said. “That is a valuable insight to have, thank you. Knight Skywalker-”

“Just...call me Anakin. Or Skywalker.”

“Anakin. When did this happen?”

“About two years ago, immediately before the First Battle of Geonosis.”

“And have you had any similar experiences with giving into the darkside since?” they asked placidly.

“I don’t think so but...we went to war the next day and....I don’t know if I’ve stopped fighting since it- since I did what I did.”

“Hmm. Anakin, would you mind stepping outside the room and waiting in the corridor for a moment please?” 

He bit his tongue, tasting blood, and quietly walked out the door while the Masters decided his fate. He leaned back against a wall, desperately wanting to see Padme. 

To his surprise, the door opened barely a few minutes later, and he was politely invited back in.

“Anakin.” Master Windu spoke. “Thank you for telling us this. It’s an important insight into Obi-Wan’s feelings right now, and I recognize that you could have kept it a secret. As Head of the Order, and with the advice of a Senior Soul Healer, I have made a decision. You will be assigned a personal soul healer, who you will start seeing tomorrow. Commander Cody pointed out that over nearly two years of continuous warfare, you have maintained some of the the lowest trooper casualty units of any division, by a significant margin if we evaluate based on mission risk level. Your civilian and enemy casualties will be reviewed, but even considering constant war, since your massacre of the Tuskens, you have clearly managed to at least... direct your violence away from the innocent. We do not consider you a threat to the inhabitants of the world. For the time being, I see no real benefit to limiting or tracking your behavior within the temple or on planet, but you are barred from leaving orbit. I have decided to delay a full reckoning before the council until such time that your former Master is well enough to provide his own opinion. Give me just cause, and I will have you confined to a force-suppressing cell. Do you understand?”

Anakin nodded, bowing in acknowledgment. All things considered, it was...honestly better than he expected.

“Now, as Cody” Windu paused. “My apologies, as the Commander was saying-” 

“Cody’s fine, sir” Cody said, wrung out in a way different from anything Kamino had trained him for.

“...I think we can all consider ourselves on a first name basis at this point.” Bant said with a snort. She paused. “That includes you Anakin. I really don’t know how to handle what you did but kark it, I don’t want to hate you. For myself.”

Everyone nodded.

“As Cody was saying, what happened next?”

Peace. Comfort. Hunger. A warning in the force...

-

“I tried to pull the saber back but his finger was already on the igniter...” 

“You probably saved his life. Even a second later-”

“I know, that’s almost the worst part.”

-

“-his neck”

“Why would he change weapons?”

“What if-”

-

“He said what to you and Healer Che?”

“That has to support the detailed vision idea, think about-”

“I’m sorry, Emperor?”

-

“I think we’re done.”

Anakin stared blankly at Sife. “But we didn’t figure anything out.”

“Not conclusively, but we’re unlikely to make any more progress, you’ve given me enough information to preform a meaningful meditative scan, or guide a conversation, should Obi-Wan wake, or navigate through his mind, should we decide to make a more decisive attempt at his shields.”

“Master Aerdo... I leave the final judgement up to you, but I strongly urge you to make a more decisive attempt. I am more convinced now than I was...” Mace glanced at the chronometer “five hours ago that this was motivated by a specific, external stimuli, likely dark. Do you disagree?”

“No.” they said with a sigh. “But I don’t want to underestimate how much underlying factors might have contributed to his response to stimuli, including underlying factors that none of you were aware of.”

The Nautolan Soul Healer stood up, tucking their hands into their sleeves to address the room with classical Jedi serenity. It was a little irritating.

“In any case, we all need to sleep, eat, and meditate. Master Eerin, you have the rest of the day off, I've cleared it with Master Che already. Master Windu, I leave the final judgement up to you, and I am aware that your duties as Master of the Order are unceasing, but I urge you to take some time to center yourself before returning to the council. Commander Cody, I would be more than willing to arrange soul healing for you or any of the Vod, please let me know. Anakin, you will receive a comm later today with further details on your future healing sessions. 

They bowed low, then glided out the door.

Bant stood next, bowed individually to each soul, and sped walked out.

Commander Cody cleared his throat awkwardly, “Mace- what should I tell the troops? We’re supposed to have command briefings later tonight.”

“If anyone asks about General Kenobi, tell them its classified.” I’ll schedule a briefing on the subject. Now go find Captain Rex and take care of yourself, that’s an order.”

Cody saluted, first to the high General, then to Anakin.

Finally it was just Mace and Anakin.

“Is there anyone who you trust who I can call to stay with you.” Master Windu asked.

“I can manage on my own” Anakin replied, not willing to give the Master of the Order anything else he could use against him, even after everything.

Master Windu held back a sigh.

He continued once more, making a deliberate attempt to soften his tone. “Anakin- I know we’ve had our differences, but this is not a trick, nor a trap. You’ve suffered a series of great shocks in the last 24 hours and handled them with immense maturity. I myself am struggling to deal with the emotional fallout.”

Anakin looked up at that, surprised. He didn’t seem to be struggling, but maybe that was what made him a good Jedi Master...

“As I told you before, I am not going to begrudge you the comfort of attachment. I’m rather convinced it would do you more harm than good at this point. I don’t want you flying right now, and you don’t have to be alone. I hope we have come to a better understanding today, but I doubt my presence is suddenly a comfort, though please correct me if I’m wrong. Now is there someone I can call?”

-

Padme ended her call with Master Windu extremely discomfited. She had barely heard from Anakin since he ran out on her the night before last to take care of an apparently extremely drunk Obi-Wan. He had messaged her a few times that night, promising to make it up to her, but had been comm-silent since. She had been starting to get worried, and now the Master of the Order was asking her to pick him up from the temple. Fortunately, she had already cleared most of her meetings for the week well in advance (Courascant leave usually meant THEM time, not that she was jealous of Obi-Wan, of course).

The speeder ride back from the temple was silent. All Anakin would say was that he would explain everything once they were in ‘a secure location.’ 

The door to the apartment had scarcely closed behind them when Anakin fell into her arms, shaking.

“Anakin, talk to me love, what’s wrong?” She gently guided him to the couch, arranging him so she could hold him protectively.

“Obi-Wan tried to kill himself.”

She let out a harsh gasp, “No! He can’t have, he would never-” 

“I got to him in time, but Padme... he was holding a lightsaber to his heart. It was...really close” He burrowed deeper into the folds of her dress, and she gripped him fiercely.

“Oh gods, is he-”

“He’s physically healing, but he’s still...not all there. I spent all of today locked in a room, trying to figure out if it was a Sith Attack, or an insane vision, or..or me”

“Anakin! What do you mean ‘me’ - Obi-Wan loves you, you-”

“I know.” Anakin interrupted her again, knowing he was being unfair; he was just too exhausted to be patient.

“He told me loved me. He...he...found out about what I did to the Tusken village, You should have seen his face, Padme, he was horrified, but he still told me he loved me, and he was willing to forgive me, even though he shouldn’t”

“Of course he forgave you,” Padme whispered. “You’re not a monster, Anakin, I know you would never do something like that again.”

"And then after we talked, I left him alone and he-” Anakin choked out into her dress.

Tears ran down her face, heart breaking. “That’s- that’s horrible. Anakin...it must have have been a attack, Obi-Wan wouldn’t do that.” she said urgently.

He pulled away, horrified. “I made you cry. I made Obi-Wan cry too. I’m sorry- Padme please, promise me you won’t-”

She grabbed the sides of his head. 

Her nails bit into the soft skin behind his ears as she pulled him down so they were face-to-face, vowing, “Never. I swear by the force itself, I will never choose death over life.”

He let out a relieved sigh, eyes fluttering closed.

“Now you,” she demanded

“As long as I have anyone to live for, I swear by the force, I will never choose death over life.”

She pulled him the rest of the way in for a bruising kiss. He lifted her, and they desperately clung at one another as he carried her to bed. They continued like that, clinging and grasping, until exhaustion carried him to sleep. She pulled the covers over top them both and curled around him defensively as the day slowly faded away.

Part XI

[ask-the-riders]

Some of the plant life in the RiderVerse

I started to sketch some of these, but then my motivation died almost immediately, so ye ^^” if you’d like to try designing any of these plants though, be my guest!

Flowey: low growing, two almond shaped leaves, leaves are of a moderate size, resembles a daisy, petals are yellow, will talk and try to deceive people (has been known to attempt to kill those near him, especially humans). Flowey is native to pretty much every AU ever, and even when the residents of RiderVerse vanished, he somehow remained

Echo Flower: low growing, two almond shaped leaves, leaves are of a moderate size, five petals, petals are blue and appear to glow faintly, will repeat a person's word if the flick it. Echo Flowers are also native to pretty much every AU ever

Nycto Flower: shrub, tiny leaves in the shape of stars, reproduces via stalks of large six petaled indigo flowers, aids headaches and induces wakefulness if ingested (must dry the petals, then crush into a fine powder and add to your food or beverage). Not native to RiderVerse; They were brought to RiderVerse from Retribution’s home AU, which is a variant of Dreamtale

Spear Flower: sprawling plant, large leaves in the shape of spear heads, reproduces via clusters of bright pink flowers, four petals, leaves are sharp enough to cut through human skin. Not native to RiderVerse; These came to RiderVerse with Famine, who wanted to bring some seeds from his old home AU, which is a variant of Horrortale

Pink Shock: low growing plant, huge frilly leaves, reproduces via clusters of regular pink flowers, three petals per flower, small thorns along the stem, tastes like pink lemonade, may only eat three flowers a day (flowers are eaten raw, right off of the plant); if too much is eaten at once, can induce temporary full body paralysis. Native to RiderVerse

Lunar Fruit: low growing plant, huge leaves in the shape of fans, reproduces via huge cream colored flowers, three petals per flower, leaves conceal spherical fruit with transparent skin, skin resembles gelatin, fruit is slightly larger than oranges, fruit inside is smokey grey, oozes lots of juice, smell is similar to spearmint, fruit makes the mouth tingle the way mint does, tropical flavor, eases emotional trauma, relieves stress, and speeds up the healing process (also great for pie making). Native to RiderVerse

Monk's Eye Fruit: fruit looks like human eyes, the “iris” parts come in different colors, slightly bigger than a grape, fruit grows from a shrub in bunches, ripeness of fruit signified by the appearance of clusters of pale yellow four petaled flowers and small cone shaped leaves, amplifies one's special talents, wards off evil, will cause hallucinations to those it deems “evil”. Not native to RiderVerse; They’re invasive, and no one’s really sure where they come from

King’s Claw Plant: tree, tiny leaves in the shape of spear heads, reproduces via numerous large royal purple six petaled flowers, large claw-like thorns along the trunk, aids certain lung ailments, induces honesty, temporarily diminishes strength. Native to RiderVerse

Whisper Lily: low growing plant, moderate sized long thin leaves, reproduces via a single pale blue four petaled flower, repeats and amplifies the whispers/murmurs of whoever speaks near it. Not native to RiderVerse; War’s father, Necro, gave Death some seeds that he found in a dying AU. He thought the flowers were pretty, and couldn’t bare to see the species die with the timeline

Angel's Blade Flower: low growing plant, tiny pointed round leaves that have jagged edges and sting whoever touches them, reproduces via a cluster of crimson bell shaped flowers, enhances agility and aids certain mental issues. Native to RiderVerse

Imperial Ink Berries: tree, huge lacy leaves, reproduces via clusters of pale teal four petaled flowers which conceal clusters of deep purple ink berries; if berries are eaten, they taste like a combination of pineapple and strawberry, used to produce/create pale blue, pink, mustard yellow, lime green, and teal ink, can be eaten to aid any emotional or mental pain, temporarily diminishes sight and strength, best eaten before going to sleep. Not native to RiderVerse; They come from the kingdom of Regoria, which is ruled by Nyx (Lady Night)

Banshee Cotton: low growing plant, moderate sized long thin leaves, reproduces via a single lavender four petaled flower, cotton resembles grey and white multi length strands of hair wadded into a small bundle, is wirey to the touch, is used to create grim reaper attire for ceremonies when a new reaper is born/created/reanimated, causes disturbing thoughts to humans who interact with it, can reanimate the dead in some instances, enhances agility, induces reaper transformation. Not native to RiderVerse; It comes from Death’s home AU, which is a variant of Reapertale

HP Herb: tall growing plant, tiny heart shaped leaves, reproduces via single dark orange six petaled flowers; when used for healing, it needs to be dried and crushed into a fine powder, then mixed in with food and/or drinks, speeds up the healing process, can cure any physical, emotional, and mental issues/injuries, relieves pain, improves cognitive function. Not native to RiderVerse; They were brought to the AU by Pestilence, who’d stashed some in one of his pockets before trying to escape his own home AU (when it was being attacked, god knows how long ago)

[hexyourheartablaze]

cannot stop thinking about genichiro ouughghgh... does he ever had an encounter with the other demon slayers after his transformation? what are some of his deepest regrets, and his fondest memories? did he ever catch the new of michikatsu turning into a demon, and if so how does he feel about it, considering he was so close to yoriichi? so many questions ;o;

I freakin' LOVE questions about my OC! My work looks like it's slowing down a little this month so hopefully I'll get time to draw more/add the other OCs that I have. I've thought a lot about them, probably too much but they keep me going during my long work days. Once I get more reference sheets for the other OCs I have maybe I can start doing ask memes and maybe interactions with other mutual's OCs the possibilities are endless.

I... I talked too much once again... So I'll add it under a cut too because I'd hate for someone to have to scroll endlessly.

Also some of these may be drawn out later on. I'd like to maybe give Kinjuro a reference sheet. I just think they're neat!

Hisakemuri Genichiro breadcrumbs under the cut!

Does he ever had an encounter with the other demon slayers after his transformation?

He does, but he tries to stay as far away from the demon slaying corps as possible. He's not worried about himself being slain, he's more worried about the confliction that the slayers will have if they meet him. The last thing he wants is for the idea of the existence of good demons to stop a slayer from fulfilling their duty or cause them to hesitate, putting them in danger. He often saves lower ranking demon slayers, but he uses his a special blood demon art called "Suffocating Abyss" that causes them to get temporary CO2 poisoning and either pass out or become disoriented. This way when they remember Genichiro later they're not sure if it was reality or not, often times they hallucinate under his spell as well so their recollection is hazy at best.

What are some of his deepest regrets?

Genichiro was able to flee after his transformation in a way that lead most of the other slayers to believe that he was killed in battle. A lot of his uniform was found shredded and his kasugai crow was slaughtered as well. Kinjuro was the only person that refused to believe Genichiro was killed and would get defensive if anyone said that Genichiro was murdered/dead. Kinjuro would go back to the place where Tsuru's corpse and Genichiro's clothes were found constantly and would try to find anything that would give him a clue of Genichiro's whereabouts. It worried the other hashira, Kinjuro would religiously go back and pick up rocks, study them, put them back... he wasn't okay anymore after that.

Genichiro's deepest regret is that he couldn't inform Kinjuro that he was alive. Not that he believes he SHOULD have while Kinjuro was alive, but that it would not have been a smart move on his part in general. If Kinjuro knew Genichiro was a demon, he'd have to slay him. He'd go against corps rules if he didn't. Genichiro wasn't afraid of death, but his drive to kill Muzan outweighed his hatred of being a demon himself. Genichiro was also worried that by revealing he had become a demon, even unwillingly, he would put Kinjuro at risk of committing seppuku.

What are his fondest memories?

Genichiro just misses being trained by Yoriichi along side Kinjuro. His fondest memories is when they were all three together, still learning and still unaware of what was to come. The two of them hadn't yet battled against demons so they weren't aware of how cruel the world could be and he misses that naivety. After watching so many demons forget themselves, his biggest fear besides giving in and eating humans would be losing his own memories.

Michikatsu?

Genichiro actively wanted to be close to Michikatsu especially when he was young, Yoriichi spoke highly of him after all. Michikatsu did not allow Genichiro or Kinjuro to be as close to him though. Genichiro never got the feeling that Michikatsu could go and do something wrong, in a way he seemed like the quiet relative he couldn't connect to no matter how hard he tried. He had a few moments with him that were fond memories. When he got the news about Michikatsu willingly being turned into a demon, Genichiro was more focused on Yoriichi who was slowly succumbing to infection. Michikatsu's transformation didn't change how Genichiro saw demons, but he didn't feel rage from the news. The loss of Yoriichi drowned out the loss of Michikatsu for Genichiro. He never crossed paths with Kokushibo, but if he did he probably wouldn't feel anything from it, he'd be too numb from the pain.

I want to let you know this ask kept me nice and stable at work today, new people are really pressing my buttons. Thank you so much!

[bioticgoddess]

Untitled O-14 One Shot

Pairing: Osiris/Saint-14 (O14)

Summary: Grief. Angst. I have no shame when it comes to these two. Set sometime between Saint's death and the excursion to find him in the Infinite Forest.

Note: I apologize for any typos and grammar issues. Wrote this in one go because I'm a masochist. Enjoy!

I. Mercury: The Gray Pigeon Osiris listened to Saint's message again. His eyes were red from tears and rubbing at them with the heel of his hands. His gauntlets as stained as his scarf and skin from them. His skin raw and throat tight. How many times had he failed to tell Saint just how much, how deeply, his affections ran? How long had he hoped to see him again? How long, trapped in the Infinite Forest and playing a deadly game of keep-away with the Vex, had he dreamed of the Exo? Or asked Sagira to show his holographic projection in the hopes it would help sleep come easier and be less painful. And now? Now, all he had of him were memories, a fragment of ribbon caught in the pilot's seat, and this letter. Pressing the piece of Saint’s accolades to his forehead, he mumbled, “This will not happen. I...I will save you.” “Osiris,” Sagira asked gently, floating to her chosen cautiously. “Are you...no...what do you need?” The care in her voice was more than he could bear, no matter what the Warlock had resolved to do. Eyes closed, tight, he tried not to cry again - for all of them. When she pressed a flat portion of her shell to his cheek. It was cold comfort but she was trying and he knew that. He knew it better than anyone. He wept. II. Earth: The Tower, Osiris’s Private Study The report was laid out across the long table. Sagira floating over them, able to read from a distance so she wasn’t in Osiris’s space. He was determined, singularly focused now, and - though she had tried - could not be convinced from his path. The little golden ghost flexed the wings of her shell. It was all there. Everything the Guardians had seen in the Forest. Most importantly, he had been there. Saint-14 laid to rest in all his glory. A fragment of Geppetto brought back though they hadn’t been able to retrieve the Exo. She watched, frowning as much as was possible, at the piece of her lost friend. Geppetto had been one of the good ones. As determined to keep her guardian safe as long as she could. Only, someone - the Vex she thought - had killed her, snuffed out the poor Ghost’s light and she was afraid. If Geppetto had been slain then what hope did they have of saving Saint? No. She couldn’t think that. She wouldn’t. Osiris needed her to believe that this insane plan might work. That it had a ghost of a chance of working and that the Light would lead them to exactly when they needed to be. “This won’t be easy, even on Mercury,” she cautioned, projecting an image of the device they needed to build. It’s schematics on yet another data pad at the center of the table. The warlock’s gloved hands on either side of it. “We’re gonna need help.” “No. This...I owe him and so I will do this,” there was a fire in his voice bordering on anger. He was right, he had to be. Which meant that if anyone could do this, could walk the corridors of time and find Saint-14 - the right Saint-14 - it would be Osiris. Her chosen would not let this be the end of their story. Not now. Not ever. Not so long as he still grieved the man who’d shown him the simple joy of the night sky over Prague. And there, as he sat and began scrolling through the data pad on his chair, making a list of the needed supplies, Sagira could have sworn she saw him weeping again. One of his hands touched a spot on his breast, the place he’d carefully hidden away the scrap of purple silk ribbon that been left behind in the Pigeon. He whispered, “I’m coming Saint. I’ll find you. I promise.” III. The Infinite Forest: Time Unknown, Mercury Saint-14 had sent Geppetto on her way, hoping she could find a way out of the forest. If anyone could it was his little Ghost. She’d been a good companion all this time but he would not bind her to his fate, not if it was avoidable. No. Someone needed to tell Osiris what had happened. To apologize for the words in his last log entry on the Gray Pigeon. He trusted Geppetto to guide his precious phoenix back from the brink in his absence. It eased his mind that she’d have Sagira there to confer with and be the voice of reason. Yes. He would take as many Vex with him as he could. If he were truly lucky and the Light was with him, it would cleanse the forest. Maybe Mercury could be a garden world again? That would be nice. Chuckling to himself, he let his mind wander and for a moment, Saint-14 was in Prague with Osiris. They were sitting in the ruins of a building from long before the golden age. It’s stone walls provided a safe haven they hadn’t known they needed. He remembered a basket, barely held together except for prayers and an old - but clean - stretch of canvas. The meal within had been simple but their conversation, he’d made the Warlock smile broadly and laugh in a way no one else ever saw. He focused on the memory of the way his eyes wrinkled at the corners. The groaning of metal bodies held together with wiring and bolts echoed, shattering his moment. Too close. He’d run too close to taking memory and letting it become fantasy. Here, especially, that could never be. No, the Vex were closer than he expected. The Exo checked his ammunition with a huff, silently lamenting his ever diminishing reserves. Worst case, he could headbutt the bastards, but he didn’t relish the idea of getting up close and personal with the Vex. He wished he could have shared one more meal with Osiris, just the two of them. Perhaps something sweet? IV. The Infinite Forest: Time Unknown, Mercury Saint collapsed, heavy under his own weight. He couldn’t breathe. Joints were going stiff. Could feel everything starting to shut down. His Light was gone. His mind was hazy, vision unable to focus. Geppetto was gone. Safe at least. He hoped. “Do not blame yourself,” he whispered to the strange golden glowing hallucination. For a moment, he thought he felt the warmth of his touch against his cheek once more. V. Earth: Tower - Temporary Quarters assigned to Saint-14 “I’m sorry,” the Exo whispered, “I should not have left.” Osiris let out a sob of a laugh, “I left first and have regretted it ever since.” Not that he’d really had a choice. Exile or not, they could at least agree that he’d left the city first. His tone, the guilt that pulled at the edges of his joy made it sound to the Titan that he thought it absurd that the Exo apologized. They were silent for a moment. Not unsure but, unbelieving. They’d come to the little apartment that would be Saint’s, for now. They’d sought solace where others would not immediately seek either of them. They’d spoken as old friends with more secrets shared between them than half of the residents of the City. Stories of what really happened in half a dozen different and now mythic adventures that they had lived. Now, sitting in this space, with no one to watch them, it was different. Under the Exo’s luminous gaze, Osiris began weaving the violet ribbon he’d been fidgeting with on the Gray Pigeon’s steps into the net of those that stretched across the left of Saint’s breast plate. “It took longer than it should have but...I was resolved not to be parted from you,” the Titan explained, head tilted and eyes fixed where he could watch his partner’s fingers work. Their gloves and helms had been abandoned to the same sad little barren counter after they entered the dwelling. Those nimble fingers gently moved the ribbons that were taught so they held this new addition in place. His gloves long abandoned to one of the flat surfaces that Saint had chosen as a workbench. Voice steady despite the hesitancy in his words, “You’ve never told me what these were for.” “I thought you did not wish to know,” there was no judgement in his tone. “I do, I have been terrible at actually remembering to ask you” he swallowed, securing the ends of the ribbon, “There. Now I will be with you, no matter where you are.” He laughed, smile broadened, eyes warm, “Then I shall tell you, once you are ready to ask. You should know, there are few things in life I have always been certain of,” collecting the Warlock’s hands as he spoke, “That you are always with me is one of them.” “And you with me,” Osiris’s relief was palpable in that moment. This. He had dreamed of

this, of having time to sit and simply be with the other Lightbearer. That and deserts, but that would have to wait. The pantries, while stocked, lacked what he needed and tonight, nothing was more important than the time they were together and on finding the new laugh lines in the Warlock's face.