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little-mad · 4 years ago

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Little Jackpot Pt. 5

~ Part 1 ~ Part 2 ~ Part 3 ~ Part 4 ~ Part 5 ~ Part 6 ~ Part 7 ~

Ambry’s world was constant movement. She didn’t get a moment’s rest from the ongoing jostling that came with being trapped in a backpack currently being worn by someone who was walking non-stop. She’d resigned herself to sitting at the bottom of her jar prison with her arms braced against the glass walls.

There was something deeply unsettling about the fact that walking around with a backpack on, something that was so simple and commonplace to the human, had such a profound effect on Ambry. After her talk with Sebastian a couple weeks ago about how out of place she felt in the human world, Ambry had progressively been getting less affected by these thoughts of insignificance. However, this whole experience had the potential to swiftly undo all that progress.

Ambry grit her teeth as her world suddenly juddered to a halt. Outside her prison there came the sound of a door being opened, which meant they must have arrived at wherever Kole was taking her. There was another bout of disorienting movement that was accompanied by a variety of loud sounds. Ambry couldn’t tell what was going on outside, that is until she felt a sharp lurching motion before the backpack landed on the ground with a soft thud.

When the opening of the bag was suddenly unzipped, Ambry had to squint her eyes against the bright light that came pouring in. By the time her eyes had adjusted, her vision was obscured by a dark shape coming towards her rapidly. A quiet squeak slipped from her mouth as her jar was carried effortlessly up into the air. It was unsurprising when the blur of motion ended in Kole’s giant face staring at her from the other side of the glass.

“Well don’t you look adorable all sprawled out like that.” The witch crooned, a smirk on his lips.

The demeaning comment was all it took for Ambry to shoot up to her feet and assume her best attempt at a firm stance. She folded her arms over her chest and glared darkly out at her captor.

A chuckle reverberated Ambry’s glass prison. “I suppose I struck a cord there.” Kole remarked.

As much as Ambry wanted to shoot back a response, she knew the human would be unable to hear it thanks to the enchantment he’d placed on the jar. So instead, she settled for giving him her most hate-filled scowl.

Apparently unaffected by Ambry’s behavior, Kole lowered the jar from his face and began to walk further inside the building. It was then that Ambry took a moment to take in her surroundings. It appeared they were in a house, a bedroom more specifically. The furnishings were all quite modern looking, and while Ambry wasn’t an expert on the human economy, if she had to guess she’d say the stuff was fairly expensive. However, there was one item in particular that stood out from the rest of the objects in the room. It was an ornate looking golden bird cage. The metal loop at the top suggested it was meant to be hung from the ceiling, but it was currently resting atop a long glass table that lined up with the end of the queen sized bed.

For a brief moment Ambry wondered whether Kole had once had a pet bird or something, but then he started walking directly towards the thing. A pit began to form in Ambry’s stomach as she realized her fate.

Seeming to sense Ambry’s displeasure without even looking at her, Kole made a slight clicking sound with his tongue. “Don’t worry, I think you’ll find this more comfortable than your current residence.” He stated, a smile in his voice.

Once he stood just in front of the golden cage, Kole used his free hand to unscrew the metal lid off of the jar holding Ambry captive. She stared upwards, muscles tensed as she watched the opening of the jar slowly be revealed. She was desperate to just fly out and make a break for it, but the size of the jar just wouldn’t allow it. Instead she was forced to remain there like a sitting duck as Kole’s fingers plunged into the jar to retrieve her.

Despite knowing it was fruitless, Ambry’s instincts demanded she do everything in her power to avoid the oncoming fingers. She plastered herself to the side of the jar, as far as possible from the reaching appendages. The action bought her only a second of time before the fingers quickly redirected to her new position.

“Such a stubborn little pixie.” Kole’s voice rumbled from above.

Ambry let out a grunt of frustration when she found herself pinched tightly at the waist by the human’s thumb and index finger. She attempted to shove the offending digits off of herself but her endeavor was quickly halted when Kole’s hand abruptly lifted up into the air, pulling Ambry along for the sickening ride.

For once, Kole didn’t pause to hold Ambry in front of his face before relocating her. This time he simply pulled open the small door of the birdcage with his free hand before unceremoniously depositing Ambry inside.

She sprung to her feet and made a dive for the door, but by the time she reached it, it was already shut tight and being held closed by just one of Kole’s fingers. Ambry despised the amused laugh that came out of the human.

“I have to give you credit for your persistence.” Kole said while reaching for the gold padlock that sat at the end of the table. “I might have expected you to have given up by now.”

“Is this thing enchanted too?” Ambry questioned sharply.

Kole, having just locked the cage door with the padlock, shifted his gaze to meet hers. “It is, but not to keep sound in.” He informed her. “The cage itself has several enchantments intended to counteract any pixie magic you may attempt to conjure up, and the lock is charmed to only be able to be unlocked by me.”

Ambry clenched her fists at her sides. This guy had seemed to have really thought this plan of his through. He’d probably been planning it for months, thinking through every contingency and accounting for them. A feeling of disgust came over her as she realized he very well may have been watching her and Sebastian from afar for a while.

“Hey, would you happen to know if pixies die when their wings are removed?” The question came out of nowhere, instantly stunning Ambry to silence.

Pixies dying from their wings being removed? She had never heard of it before, then again she’d never heard of a pixie losing their wings at all before. Back in her hometown, there had been several instances of pixies injuring their wings in some way or another, but never once had anyone lost them altogether.

Seeming to take Ambry’s shocked reaction as a ‘no’, Kole tapped a finger to his bottom lip thoughtfully. “Interesting that even you don’t know.” He commented. “There are some sources that say a pixie dies immediately upon being separated from their wings.” He explained casually. “But there’s also plenty of sources claiming that pixies can live just fine without their wings.”

Ambry felt as though she wanted to throw up. This witch had not only abducted her with the intention of taking her wings and selling them, but also had no clue as to whether or not the procedure would kill her. Ambry had been well aware that not all witches were decent, fairly moral people. Just like every species, humans had their fair share of bad apples. However, the complete lack of concern for the life of another sentient being that this man displayed still managed to shake Ambry to her core.

“Don’t get me wrong,” Kole’s voice forced Ambry’s attention, “I’d much prefer you survive. Now that I’ve seen how cute you are, I think I’d quite like to keep you as a pet.” His face was mere inches from the gold bars that separated him from Ambry. A content smile was spread across his face, his massive eyes holding her trapped in their gaze.

Ambry’s flesh crawled as a dark feeling began to spread through her body. This was precisely the kind of thing that had kept pixies secluded from the rest of the world for so long. Other types of magical beings had begun integrating into human society a long time ago, but the same could never be said for Ambry’s kind. No matter how many humans treated pixies as equals despite the vast size difference, there would always be those few who refused to view them as anything but inferior. A pet. This human wanted to make Ambry his pet. It was utterly repulsive.

“I’m nobody’s pet.” She snarled, forcing herself to stand her ground and not back away from the giant looming face.

Kole smirked, holding Ambry in his gaze for a long moment before he finally pulled away from the cage and stood to his full height. “Ah right, Sebastian Altalune was calling you his ‘companion’.” He performed air quotes with his fingers.

“I am his companion.” Ambry hissed, not at all liking what Kole was insinuating. “And it’s only a matter of time before he finds me.”

Kole gave a derisive snort as he turned away from Ambry’s cage. “Not likely, considering this house is completely immune to scrying or any other form of magical tracking.” He stated. “And if he does somehow manage to find his way here, I’m quite certain I can handle the likes of him.”

Ambry pressed her lips together tightly. Based on what she’d seen of Kole’s magical abilities so far, she had to admit to herself that he did seem more advanced than Sebastian. If she had to guess, she’d say he was a few years older than her witch. And while Sebastian was a genius when it came to the academic aspects of magic, applying his knowledge to combat situations came less easily for him. She could only hope that if he did manage to track her down, he’d bring backup.

#g/t #giant/tiny #g/t writing #g/t story #g/t community #ocs #sebastian altalune #ambry #trahb #my writing

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nalgenewhore · 5 years ago

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The sun was beginning to beat down on his shoulders as he trained Terrasen’s army as the queen’s newly appointed general.

Lorcan’s gaze was harsh and scrutinizing as he watched his most elite group like a hawk, another very familiar hawk on the battlements of the castle of Perranth. Lorcan’s voice was not loud or demanding, but his men could still hear him perfectly as he corrected the position of one male or doled out advice to the young soldiers.

He was in the middle of a demonstration when a tiny body slammed into his legs and he looked down to see a head of riotously wavy hair, as dark as a starless night, that belonged to his daughter, Stella Luna. In a flash, Rowan was next to him and scooping her up, carrying her out of harm’s way and the reach of Lorcan’s hatchet, its edge gleaming. Lorcan nodded gratefully and continued showing the soldiers what to do and then finally, they began their exercises and he could turn to Stella Luna.

The eighteen-month old had tears welling in her eyes as she snuggled into Rowan’s chest, sniffling at her father’s seemingly brisk dismissal. Lorcan felt remorse at having her swept away while he was using his weapons and he took her from his brother, holding her close and rocking her little frame back and forth, back and forth. “I’m sorry, love, it was dangerous and that’s why Uncle Ro had to hold you away.” She was quick to dry her eyes and smile, the tips of her canines poking through her pink gums, and she was squirming to be let down. Lorcan set her on the ground and she busied herself by playing with the dirt in her reach before she started crawling to her highchair, which had magically appeared next to them.

“We have that meeting in an hour,” said Rowan, the grimace on his face twin to Lorcan’s. They had little taste for meeting or ‘courtly bullshit’ as they so eloquently put it.

“What’s this one about?” Lorcan asked, both surveying the males training and watching Stella Luna, who was looking up at a cloud.

Rowan grunted, “Something about the trading needs of Perranth.”

“Baldor.”

Lord Baldor was one of the noblemen who lived in the city and was not quiet nor subtle about his disdain for the ‘crippled girl with dirty blood’ ruling the second largest city in Terrasen or the ‘half-feral half-breed warrior’ she married. He hadn’t dared to speak ill of their daughter, had gone pale and sickly-so the day that he had dared to speak her name with the tinges of disgust and Elide had stood, her hands on the table as she spoke, her voice low and dangerous, her court around her promising a slow death to the man who dared insult the heir of Perranth, “Speak ill of my daughter and your future Lady and I promise you, you will live to regret it. Say one word of maleficence about her, and what I allow my court to do to you will seem like a blessing once they’re done and it’s my turn to play. We still do not forget when you let Vernon lock me in that tower and did nothing.”

Rowan’s voice brought him back to the present, “Exactly.” Their lips curled in disgust and resignation and so they turned back to the drill they were overseeing. Rowan called for a break and the males were quick to shed layers under the warming sun or drink water or find someplace to relieve themselves.

Something caught his eye and he turned to see his extremely pregnant mate standing next to the queen, one hand on her lower back and one absently rubbing the top of her bump. Lorcan was unable to stop the smile at the sight of her. Elide was due any day now and Aelin had insisted on being here for her sister during the birth, still not able to forgive herself for missing Stella Luna’s by five minutes. Lorcan scoffed, “Your wife is more overbearing than me, Ro.”

Rowan chuckled and smiled softly at his mate, his eyes glinting with sadness. He and Aelin hadn’t had any luck conceiving and Lorcan knew how much his queen’s heartbreak at not being able to carry a child bore on Rowan. “She’s excited, that’s all.”

“Mm-hmm.” The soldiers had gotten back in their places, standing at attention when Aelin sauntered up, a certain heir of Perranth on her hip.

“Well, well, well, what have we got here, boys?” She turned to the squadron, “At ease, soldiers.” Aelin still did not enjoy when people groveled to her, no matter how confident she was. The males smiled as they relaxed and waited for further instructions. “Do you mind?” she asked Lorcan, indicating if she could commandeer his training and he shook his head, graciously giving her the go-ahead.

Soon, the air around them was charged with the clashing of swords and soft grunts of males who weren’t fast enough to avoid getting hit. After one particularly nasty tumble, Stella Luna burst into laughter, clapping her hands as she giggled and Aelin cracked a smile, pressing her nose to the baby’s cheek, her skin so soft and smooth. “You are a little meanie, did you know that, my love?”

Stella Luna smiled like she was in agreement and she squirmed to be let down, her hands in the queen’s as she carefully stepped over to her chair, holding herself up on one of its legs. Lorcan called a stop, ready to switch the activity.

“Sir,” called one of the soldiers, directed at Lorcan. “The female infant is playing with the training contraption, if you don’t mind, I would like to go first.” This was Lorcan’s least favourite of all the soldiers he had, always too cocky and too confident, with a general disdain for those he viewed to be inferior, like females and children, those he thought to be weak.

Rowan and Aelin muffled their snorts as Lorcan rose a brow, “Oh, you volunteer, hmm?” He was ready to knock down the male in question by a peg or two. He turned to Stella Luna, crouching down in front of her and letting her wrap her hand around one of his fingers. “Baby, what’s this?” he asked her, tapping the tray of her highchair.

“Chair!” she responded, squealing in delight when Lorcan stood and lifted her up, holding her upside down with a grip on one of her ankles. “Is chair, Papa, chair, chair, chair, chair,” she continued her litany of the word ‘chair’, but she couldn’t quite get the exact pronunciation, so it came out more like the beginning of the word ‘share’. Lorcan grinned and turned her back upwards, placing her down in her seat.

The soldiers laughed as the one male went beet-red and scowled at Stella Luna, who snarled at him, her baby canines on display, her brows furrowed and her eyes angry. “My chair.” She slammed her fists on the tray, growling at the soldier who had the audacity to smirk at her. The glares Rowan and Aelin sent his way quickly deterred him from angering the young heir.

Lorcan dropped a kiss on her head, “That’s my girl.”

@myfeyrelady @the-regal-warrior @kandasboi @schmlip-scribble @highqueenofelfhame @westofmoon @empire-of-wildfire @rhysands-highlady @city-of-fae @shyvioletcat @alifletcher2012 @tangledraysofsunshine @ttakeitbacknoww @tswaney17

#elorcan #elidexlorcan #elide lochan #lorcan salvaterre #stella luna salvaterre lochan #isa writes #nalgenewhore

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kinsbin · 5 years ago

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You Have Me

Title: You Have Me Word Count: 1580 Pairing: Kota/Twice [Self Insert/Canon]

Summary: Kota notices that everyone seems to be ganging up on Twice. When she notices, even more, that Jin is behaving weirdly, she goes to have a heart to heart with him. And to remind him that, even if everyone else acts like that, he’ll always have her to love him.

A/N: Commission for @blueshipstealstars! I’m always so happy to write for Kota and Twice even when I haven’t fully caught up with bnHA THEY’R STILL THE OTP FOLKS-

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He was… different.

Not different in his normally ‘different’ good way, of course. Not in the way Kota was used to him being on a regular basis, so much more lively and unique in comparison to the rest of the overly serious frames of villains with a penchant for revenge that was stronger than their quirks themselves. So much more open and readable than the rest of those around her, from Dabi who kept to himself to even Tomura whose mind always seemed elsewhere amongst his hands and thoughts, Kota could always find comfort in the fact that, well, at least Twice would always be the same in one way or another. At least, when it came down to it, she could trust him to still be Jin at the very end of the day.

At least that was how it had been. Now he was… different.

It had started small at first, little changes of his personality and dismissals that he pushed away with his normal intense attitude. Those types of little moments faded into his usual annoying play fights with HImiko and made the rest of the group ignore him for the time being. Not Kota, though, because she always kept an eye on him. Her stern gaze, though it softened when it faded to him, was always carefully gazing at him. Noticing. Thinking. Calculating from a distance as the changes grew better and worse in waves throughout their events day after day.

It was what she was good at, after all. Observing as she did. She didn’t like to brag about it.

Nor did she like the way Twice seemed to get worse.

Worse and worse as the league pushed forward in its plans, his own thoughts being shut down with sharp words that made him flinch and look away, glaring in annoyance at nothing in particular while he bit his tongue. Events he was in charge of failed with only minor issues from him and major issues with the people that went along with him. The people he trusted and tried to recruit with the fervor of a church pastor on sunday mass, only to have it backfire in his face as he came back from missions with more bruises than his body could heal at any one rate. This, of course, only brought more mocking from the rest of the league. More reprimanding from Tomura’s mouth and more snarky, annoyed comments from Dabi as he bared his fangs towards the weaker positioned man at any chance he got, the fiery bastard. Kota joked (to herself mostly) that it was because he felt inferior in one way or another. That fire and show was all he could do in times of panic.

Now though? Now it was bad.

Bad enough for Twice to retreat from the latest meeting with a small tumbler of scotch on the rocks cradled tightly between slim hands, slipping out without a word as the meeting seemed to continue without notice of his disappearance. Kota’s eyes narrowed at the door where he left, his shadow still in her vision across the expanse of hallways before finally fading into nothingness against the light. The words of Himiko and Compress echoed uselessly in the peripheral of her hearing as she stood up, downed her own glass of alcohol as fast as possible, and exited the room.

“Going somewhere, Kota?”

An echo of someone’s voice was heavy in the air, calling her out as she paused at the door and looked behind her, her gaze as sharp as her frown.

“To find Twice,” She sneered back at them, annoyance dripping from her tone like a molten led, “Not that any of you fucks really cared about him leaving, did ya?”

She didn’t wait for their response before she exited the room, her shoes hitting the tile beneath them with purpose as she ran off to find her lover.

Kota wandered the halls of the hideout for longer than she would have liked to admit, checking rooms she thought that Jin might be in only to be worried when she found that he wasn’t there. Bare traces of him seemed to exist amongst the rest of the world around them, as though he was hiding his tracks. As though he didn’t want to be found. Kota worried, for a brief moment as her heart pounded in the back of her head, that he really didn’t want to be.

When she finally found him he was on top of the roof of the hideout, sporting a cigarette alongside his drink, mask cast to the side as he looked upwards at the stars with a thoughtful knit of sadness to his brows.

He startled when she appeared beside him, taking a seat next to him with a soft sigh leaving her lips. With a scrambled curse of surprise, Twice gripped at his mask with the intensity of four of himself and shoved it over his face, all but trapping the cigarette inside of the fabric. It took him a few more moments to pull it up just to show his mouth as he grimaced at the taste of ashe against his skin.

“What are you doing here?”

Kota winced at the cold tone of his voice, his body curling in on himself as he rested his chin in the palm of a hand.

“Checking up on you,” Kota’s answer was honest as she took a deep breath, “You aren’t yourself lately, Jin… I just… wanted to see if…”

She trailed off with a bite to her bottom lip, unsure of what else to say. How else to continue the statement that wanted to leave her. Jin’s laugh was a weak one, annoyed and sad as he turned to her, his lips pulled up in a rotten looking sneer as he pulled his cigarette from between his teeth and put it out on the cool concrete of the building.

“Wanted to what?” He grumbled, “Laugh at me like everyone else? Blame me for one more mistake I made that I probably deserve to be pushed around for? Hell, i deserve it so why don’t you save me the trouble of doing it to myself and-!”

“Twice!”

Her hand flew to his shoulder to stop him in talking, making the man startle as he grit his teeth and shrink into himself, his speech of annoyance at his own behavior fading into the distance as Kota’s heart ached at the words he had just snapped to her, the ferocity of his self-degradation hurting more than any slap or laceration possibly could on her body as she could only whisper out her question in a worried, quiet voice:

“Is that… what you think of yourself?”

“... It must be true, right?” He sounded desperate. Desperate for an answer and craving for this to be the right one. For any of his next words to be the right thing to say after he had said so many things wrong, “I do enough wrong… if everyone says so… It has to be true.”

“I don’t say so.”

Her statement was immediate and sharp. A crisp statement amongst a white noise of everything else as the world focused back into them. Twice lifted up his head, eyes wide with surprise at the words that left the other’s mouth but even more at the determination that shined beneath them as Kota’s grip grew more firm on his shoulder and she brought herself closer. Pushing herself into his personal bubble until their noses were touching. He was grateful she couldn’t see the red of his face.

“You are smart. You’re important,” She whispered through a smile, “You put so much pressure on yourself to make everyone happy… Jin, you can’t please everyone and trying to will only make you feel worse, you know that. I know I can’t make the others see it as much as I fucking want to… or make them stop how they behave with you but…”

She sighed, words failing her as she instead pushed forward, daring to kiss the exposed, slack jawed lips of the man before her with a gentleness the likes of which he could have only experienced in his dreams. All at once tears threatened to pour from his eyes, bright and hurt and shocked as he returned the kiss with needy vigour. With desperation for the affirmation of his existence to continue. As if, without it, he might disappear.

He might.

When they pulled away, Kota rested her head on his own, their foreheads touching as they shared their intimate moment under the stars, her lips pursed as she offerd him a rare, geuine sort of smile.

“To me? You’re the funniest, most amazing man in the League, bar none. Even if they don’t see it… You’ll always be important to me. So, please… try not to hurt yourself over something like that… When you know to me, you’re always perfect.”

Jin laughed, soft and exposed and painful as he gave a nod against her head, afraid any words might trigger tears down his eyes as he reached out and found Kota’s hand. Entwining their fingers together, the two shared one last kiss under the bright moonlight, their glasses long forgotten at their sides as Twice’s heart swelled into something akin to his usual delight. Akin to his usual mood.

Because, as long as he had his lover on his side, nothing could possibly get him down. As long as he was important to her, well?

That was okay.

#self insert #self ship #self shipping #self ship writing #self insert writing #bnha #kinley writes #writing commission

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blackleatherjacketz · 6 years ago

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My Brother’s Keeper: Chapter 3

Negan x Reader

Summary: Your brother runs away from the Sanctuary, and you pay the price

Warnings: LEMON, Choking, Sibling Rivalry, Daddy Kink, Self-Voyeurism?, Biting, Marking

Read Chapter 2

Tags: @annablack1102 @genevievedarcygranger @letsby @negans-network @negansdirtygirl22 @mblaqgi @collette04 @flames-bring-a-ton-of-ash

“What the shit was all that back there? Your sister win a dick-sucking contest at the county fair and nobody bothered to tell me?” Negan’s voice echoed against the walls of his bedroom before he shut the door behind him.

“No,” you whispered, still constantly baffled by his jarring words.

“Well then, what is it? Am I making the wrong choice, here?” He set his bat down in the corner of the room, hovering his hand over it gently to make sure it wouldn’t move before walking away.

“No!” The thought of her taking your place made your stomach turn even more than watching Negan brag to your father about what happened in the infirmary. All your life you played second fiddle to your older sister, and you weren’t about to do the same here at The Sanctuary. “She just…”

How could you possibly describe your inferiority complex to him without sounding stupid, without sounding petty? How could you tell him that she paved the way for every social interaction you ever had in the small town you grew up in together? All the second-hand clothes and second-hand relationships from her made that pavement dry and cracked over the years. You recalled men and women commenting on how hot your sister was before realizing she was with someone else until they eventually settled for you. Negan was the first person to notice you before even glancing at her, and that was something.

You watched him removed his glove and jacket, taking his time to carefully drape them over the back of the couch before waltzing back in front of you. His face was stern and prompted more of an explanation.

“She’s more… active than I ever was.” You decided to shorten your answer, hoping he’d drop the issue.

“Active?” He leaned to the side, his eyes widening in anticipation.

“She’s had a lot more boyfriends than I have, and most men like her more.” You swallowed hard, your cheeks heating up again in shame. “Most men like her first, that’s all.” You looked down at your feet, an involuntary deep breath expanding your lungs wider than you’d expected.

“So, you ever get her sloppy seconds?” he asked, sauntering towards you until his boots brushed the tips of your worn down sneakers.

You let out your breath and took in another one, trying to focus on what you wanted to say instead of what had actually happened in the past.

“You have!” His voice was softer now, but closer to your ear as you kept your eyes on the floor. “Well, shit, we’ve all been there! Hell, I get one of my men’s sloppy seconds every time I bang one of my wives, but we’re not here to talk about that, now are we?”

“No,” you muttered, feeling his finger lift your chin.

“No.” The jovial smile melted off his face as your gaze met his, the rest of his fingers wrapping themselves tightly around your neck.

You gasped as he squeezed even harder, glaring at you through thick lashes that seemed to cast a dark shadow over you. He pulled you into him, tilting your chin upward with his thumb, and without a word, asked if this was okay. He rose an eyebrow to beg the question as his thumb rubbed against the length of your neck, gently massaging your carotid.

You nodded in response, feeling that rush of adrenaline you missed as he backed you up against the wall.

“Good girl,” he whispered, his smile returning. His voice was like gravel on a dark back road, settling in your ears as the concrete wall cooled your upper extremities.

You tried to control your breathing, his grip sliding up and down your throat until it eventually loosened enough to travel down your chest and abdomen. His fingers were just as you remembered them, rough and strong against your skin as he removed each item of clothing.

He undressed you in silence, a phenomenon quite unusual for a man who never seemed to stop talking. Kneeling down before you, he pulled and tugged on the garments that protected you from the elements for so many years, the buttons and zippers echoing loudly in the room.

“Get on the bed,” he ordered, standing up after sliding off your socks. “On your hands and knees for me, Princess.” He smirked and let his hands fall to the buckle of his belt, sliding the leather strap out of its metal latch.

Oh boy, this was really happening, wasn’t it? His confident demands hardened your nipples and shook your thighs as you ran your palms down the front of your body to make sure you were all still there. You suddenly realized just how naked you actually were as you watched him undress the rest of the way before he nodded toward the bed.

“Y...yessir,” you whispered, taking the hint and climbing on top of the mattress.

“Sir, huh?” He slid his pants down along with his underwear and kicked off his boots. “I like that.”

You felt your muscles tighten as you glanced back at him, the one between your legs starting to swell as you noticed his size, large enough to match his ego. You rocked your body backward and presented yourself like some sort of show dog on PBS in front of his… mirror? Mirror! How long had that been there? Who in their right mind would have a mirror at the end of their bed…? Negan. Negan WOULD have a mirror right where he wanted it.

“Look at you,” he praised, walking around the side of the bed.

You couldn’t help but follow his instructions, looking at your starved and naked body in such a demeaning position made you furrow your brow. You’d always avoided mirrors in The Sanctuary, and now you remembered why. You could see the scar from that fence a few years back, the puncture from the pencil you fell on in the sixth grade and your ribs. Each of them slid under your skin as you took deeper breaths to prepare for what was to come.

Before the apocalypse you would have loved to have looked like this, to be this skinny. Now that you had no choice, well, you cursed your past self for wanting something so frivolous and superficial. What you wouldn’t give right now for some extra padding on your hips and ass and maybe even on your stomach.

“Damn, baby.” He pulled you out of your pity party and traced his fingertips down your spine, drawing out even more moisture between your thighs. “You see that?” He climbed on top of the bed and began stroking himself behind you, the sound of his skin igniting something primal in you.

“Yeah,” you whispered, ogling his reflection.

“You’re gonna watch me slide inside that pretty little pussy of yours, and don’t you dare think about looking away.” He grabbed a fistful of your hair and pulled your head back. “Now, are you gonna be a good little girl for Daddy?” he asked in a gruff voice.

Your breath hitched at the word. Daddy?! Your mouth fell open in surprise as his grip on your scalp tightened, forcing you to stare at the ceiling while he teased your entrance.

“Uh-huh,” you managed to whimper, nodding and pushing your hips backward in hopes of enveloping him.

“I thought so,” He let go of your hair and grabbed your ass, running the tip of his cock up and down your length. “Fuck baby, you are soaked! All that for me?”

“Mmm hmm,” you whispered again, shaking in anticipation.

“Good girl,” he repeated. He slid his arm under your thigh before lifting it up above his hip, pushing you down onto your side in one fluid motion so you could face the mirror as he finally pushed himself inside of you.

“Oh!” you gasped, letting your eyes close as he stretched you out. “Oh my god!”

“Keep those eyes open, baby,” he whispered, grabbing your chin and turning it toward the looking glass. He smiled as he thrust himself inside of you, slowly at first just to watch every inch of his cock get swallowed up by your dripping wet heat. “That’s it.”

You let your ankle rest on his shoulder as he kindled the flame inside of you, sparking a chemical reaction each time his tip brushed up against your cervix. His balls pressed against your skin, holding that wild sensation for as long as he could before pulling back out of you and starting all over again. Sweat dripped down between you two, the sounds of skin on skin quickening as he started to pick up the pace.

You wanted to touch him, to grab him and kiss him as you clenched your muscles down around him, but his grip on your chin only tightened when you tried to sit up. You moaned in protest as you reached for his chest, scratching three lines across his heart as his hips pounded you deep into the mattress.

“Not today baby,” he managed to whisper in between thrusts. He grabbed your ankle and pushed it off his shoulder, laying you flat on your back before his hand wrapped around your throat again. He turned your head to the side, rocking into you and barely pulling out in between thrusts as his lips grazed your neck.

He opened his mouth and bit down, pulling on the tender flesh below your chin as his teeth shot jolts of pain throughout your body. Those sharp stimuli countered the deep, rhythmic pleasure that his hips were giving you; overwhelming your senses with a mixture of pain and pleasure you never knew you needed.

“You may not be my wife, but you’re fucking mine.” he whispered into your skin, sucking his way down your neck while his grip remained ironclad.

“Uh-huh!” you muttered, arching your back as his thrusts became relentless.

He bit you again, taking a new piece of flesh into his mouth as he slammed inside of you so wildly that you began to see stars and flashes of light.

You lifted your legs as he finally brushed against that spot you had so often thought was a myth, and wrapped your legs around his lower back. Your insides started to quake, to convulse and spasm as he pulsed inside of you and sucked another bruise onto your skin, starting something you no doubt would want more of. Your moans carried throughout the room as the two of you came together, falling apart and collapsing next to each other in a heap of sweat and cum.

“Yeah, I definitely chose the right sister.”

#negan #negan x reader #negan fan fiction #negan's thirst squad #the walking dead

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leonawriter · 7 years ago

Text

Numbers (pt. 2)

Read it on AO3

Fandom: Final Fantasy VII

Characters: Sephiroth, Cloud, Genesis, Barret, others.

Notes: Follows on from the first part, and has the same warnings (clones, amnesia, PTSD, references to violence).

A few things are clarified, both for Sephiroth and also the reader. And yet, as is evident because of these things, he continues to be an unreliable narrator.

...

Cloud comes by another couple of times - both times bearing small amounts of simple, easy to eat food - and perhaps it's due to the fact that the room that he is in has neither windows nor a timepiece, but his internal clock is still unable to tell if it happens to be day or night or anywhere in between.

Then again, with what he was told, what he had known was true from the moment he had heard the words from Cloud's mouth, the possibility remained that this body had no internal clock system yet, that it would need to be trained into understanding such simple things as if for the first time.

Every so often, he heard voices coming from outside, sometimes ones that had him sure that he should know them, others that he had no familiarity with whatsoever. All were muffled by walls and distance, even with his naturally enhanced hearing.

Solitude brings about the ability to take apart what has been happening to him, done to him, which memories he can access without the pain threatening to split him apart, spots dancing across his vision.

Cloud hadn't exactly talked to him, much less spent very long at all in his presence, since the first visit. He'd said a few words, and on the second time he was graced with the blond's presence he'd been gifted clothes. Nothing special, or familiar, but better than what he'd had, which was all that he'd had.

Footsteps were now coming steadily but confidently toward the room he was being detained in, and then stopped outside of the door. The lock was undone, and then, the door swung inward.

The person who came in had wild, waist-length red hair that seemed to sometimes only be obeying gravity due to length, and was wearing a threadbare, obviously patched up coat. Other than that, the general look of him seemed to suggest SOLDIER in some way, much the same way that Cloud had.

He noticed a rip, a tear in the fabric of the coat that hadn't been mended but rather had seemed to have had the edges softened off somehow, when his new visitor turned to close the door behind him.

Something about the hole in the coat set him on edge, but other than that and a faint feeling of unease as though he was forgetting something, he felt nothing else.

"My, my... so Cloud really was telling the truth. The great Sephiroth, laid low at the whims of scientists. Although I suppose that wasn't new even before, was it?"

The voice.

He glared at the man's features, noting the way that his eyes glowed a steely blue, the nose, the cheekbones, the single earring that glinted off of the light when it moved-

"Genesis."

He remembered Cloud's words, the first time they'd spoken, after he'd woken up here.

"Ah, yeah. He was going to come down here anyway, sooner or later. I'll tell him you asked, though."

His mouth went dry.

"I- remember. The last time I saw you, I told you to rot."

And then... nothing. Or rather, if he tried to push further, past that one glimpse, his mind punished him and made him relieved that he had been able to move around at least somewhat, so that he by now had the strength to find a bucket or, if that failed, make his way to the bathroom before his bed was covered in vomit.

"As you can see," Genesis said, now coldly compared to the mocking tones from before, "that is far from the case. I am no longer even degrading, no thanks to you."

Degrading... something about that was important.

His frustration over his inability to remember, and his inability to do anything, made him wish that there was something he could do, some way he could relieve his stress.

Memories formed more of emotions than anything told him of kata that he had once danced to with the weight of his sword in his hand. Masamune, however, was not here, and he doubted that they would give him access to it.

"You seem to be under a mistaken assumption. I may have some memories, I may look as you expect I should... and yet, according to Cloud, I am nothing more than a clone." He paused, focusing on making his message known, clearly. Not paying attention to the shocked and disturbed expression on Genesis' face, that seemed to border on disgust. If that was how it was to be, then so be it. "I therefore cannot be anything more than an inferior copy that you found."

"You think you know anything about copies, Sephiroth? You think that is all that you are?" No, not just disgust. There was anger there, too. He always did get angry easily. "Copies... clones -those are things that are controlled by the original. They might look the same, but they have their own idiosyncrasies, their own quirks. You can't make someone into a Copy who works best with an axe and expect them to fight as well with a sword. It simply won't happen. Trust me, I know."

Something about the information felt true, but no matter how much hope he had for another sliver of memory to surface, nothing came.

"Then what am I? I can remember- I shouldn't be alive, and yet, here I am."

Genesis snorted, sending several strands of red hair flying upwards before falling back over his nose at a more sedate pace, eyes going half-lidded.

"That would make both of us, then. My soul, corrupted by vengeance, hath found salvation at the end of my journey... and your eternal slumber. I suppose that could ring true for either of us, now."

For a single moment, the air was still.

"LOVELESS, Act Four."

Genesis' eyes snapped open, fixing him under their gaze and seeming to search him for - something.

"You remember."

It felt almost as though he were re-enacting something, rather than conversing, letting his mouth run by reflex.

"How can I not, when you've beaten it into my head." Genesis' eyes, now wide, continued to watch him. He frowned, as flashes of... something... ran through his mind. "We fought. But I didn't want you dead." He tilted his head, picking at something that wouldn't let go of him until he had addressed it. "You shoulder. Is it...?"

A gloved hand went to the shoulder that he remembered having been injured - almost an unconscious action.

"Cured, now. So, you really do have memory issues. But you're definitely Sephiroth." Disgust and shock had both faded, and in their place was an odd sense of shared discomfort, although he wondered if it were for the same reasons. As well, Genesis seemed suddenly uncomfortable, needing to move, as though the room was too small.

"Some things are easier than others," he allowed. "Although it is easier if I am not... actively trying to remember. Also, most of the time it feels more like they're things that happened to someone else, rather than... me."

The sensation of cold steel biting into him, not just once but countless times in countless places but always the same blades and always the same face with blue eyes and blond hair delivering the blows-

Those, were harder to feel a disconnect from.

Genesis stopped the agitated movements he'd been caught up in, and then leaned his back against the wall.

"I'd hardly say that's proof that they belong to someone else," he said airily. "From what I can see, you're different from how you were. Or at least, looking at things differently... context is important." He gave Sephiroth an odd look, one he didn't know how to decipher. "We aren't confined to one role, no matter what we may wish."

Sephiroth looked away, feeling unable to match what Genesis was seeing - just as as he had felt an imposter before, now he simply felt reduced.

"Somehow... I don't think that I did very well at being the hero everyone seemed to think I was."

Genesis stared at him for a moment, and then started to laugh.

"Perhaps neither of us were much better than the other, then," he said, with a smile still on his face, full of teeth and nostalgia. "I have it on high authority that I wasn't the hero I seemed to think I was, either."

Sephiroth looked back, considering what he knew of Genesis from the few clear memories he had, and the man before him now.

"You really have changed."

He was given a sharp look, and the restless energy that had dissipated before seemed to have returned, a red glove finding the door handle.

"All of us have," was all the response he got before the door swung open, and he was left alone again.

...

He dreamed of villages burning, when he could no longer stay awake. Fear and pain and loss and heartbreak and pure rage enough to keep the fires burning coursed through him, mixing emotions that he was able to recognise as having possibly been his, sometimes definitely his, and ones that could easily have come from someone else.

The fire burned, smoke was in his lungs, and somehow - impossibly - he was holding the sword that had impaled him.

I will never be a memory-

He woke up drenched in sweat and gasping for breath, blank grey walls looking back at him, and the only light coming from the hallway, shining through the underneath and window of the door.

...

Cloud came by again some time later, recognisable by the steady steps and the distinct sense of it being Cloud. He brought with him several notebooks - some with plain paper, some with lined.

"The Reno made sure he got all the files and data from that place he could before we burned it down. Your medical files included. From the looks of things, you're... in late stage mako addiction. Your cells were built for it, pretty much, but it's still a shock to the system, no matter how adjusted you should be. That'll be why your head's such a mess, if I had to guess." He nodded at the notebooks. "Using those might help. Sort things out."

"Why."

"Last thing any of us wants is you mixing up who you were. And if we know what you remember, we can tell you if you've got things wrong."

That made sense. But it didn't give him the answers he wanted - that he needed.

"You could have let me burn," he said, eyeing Cloud while not fully looking at him straight on, images of burning villages flickering in his mind. "Is it pity? Because of my fear? Or foolishness, because I was unarmed and too weak to have made a fair fight?"

"That..." Cloud hesitated for just an instance, torn with indecision over something. "Neither. If anything, I just didn't want to turn into you."

Ah, came the thought as he closed his eyes. I see.

Spite, then. Perhaps. Or some other goal.

"I don't think you get it," Cloud said, voice level. "Back then, I was... like this. My head was a mess. And you... you took advantage of that. Made me do things. When I walked in there, I realised that for once, I had the upper hand. I could have... I still could. But I won't, because I don't think I'd have been able to look myself in the eye again after, even if no one blamed me for it."

Sephiroth didn't realise that he had tensed until he felt the pain in his muscles, the sensation of his nails digging into the palms of his hands.

Something about what Cloud had just said made him feel the same as he had when he had first come to, opening his eyes to doctors and scientists in lab coats, a needle in his arm.

"And so, you are keeping me."

"We don't trust you," Cloud said bluntly. "Plus, even if we wanted to get rid of you, we couldn't. You're still sick." He shook his head. "Besides, like I said before. Aerith thinks you're worth the effort, and I trust her. I figure, if you can prove her right... that'd mean something. So - don't let her down."

...

"It's damn creepy, is what it is," Barret says. They're in Seventh Heaven, but the bar is closed, because everyone's together - or most of them are, at least - and they're having lunch. "Don't get me wrong, but every time I remember he's in there, I just wonder why we took him outta that place alive and not in a body bag."

Cloud sighs. it takes two of the normal tables together to fit them all - he's next to Tifa, who's got Vincent next to her, and Yuffie's on his other side. Barret's the other side of Tifa, with Genesis opposite him and Nanaki sat up on the chair next to Barret.

Cid's one of the few who's not here, but that's just because he's busy working for Reeve, and Reeve's in his offices with Cait watching over the place where they'd left Sephiroth.

Sephiroth. Alive, though suffering from mako addiction due to having been plucked out of the lifestream by ghosts and given some kind of second chance. He sometimes wondered why just like Barret himself, before reminding himself that leaving the man to die or worse at the mercies of the scientists not much better than Hojo, or killing him himself...

He hadn't just made his promises to the others. He had promises he'd made to himself, as well.

The air is awkward and tense. Even more so, after those words. At least the kids are out, so they didn't have to hear the adults talking like this.

Genesis looks at him, glowing blue eye to glowing blue eye, and there's a sort of understanding, in the way that only two people who've known Sephiroth in such an intimate - compared to the rest of the world - way, could ever have.

It only lasts a moment, and then Tifa's hand is on his shoulder, potatoes forgotten.

"You've been there more often than you've been home, the past week," she says, and it's true. "He shouldn't have to be your responsibility."

He pushes his fork on his plate, keenly aware of everyone's eyes on him, and wishes he could look away, somewhere that didn't mean he'd bee looking at someone else he didn't want to answer to.

"But if he isn't mine," he says at last, quietly, "who'd do it? No one wants to, and I don't blame them. It is creepy... 'cause he's a clone, and he's so damn human." He shrugged. Not knowing what else to say. Shovelled food into his mouth.

He didn't want to admit the rest to the others yet. Not the fact that he was afraid, not the fact that the other day he'd woken up in a sweat from nightmares of Nibelheim and things he can't possibly have been through or felt because they weren't his-

It had just reinforced how opposite their situations were. How much control he had. That he didn't want.

"He said that he remembers telling me to rot," came Genesis' lilting tones, making even the disturbing words seem poetic.

The redheaded ex-SOLDIER smiles behind his glass of Banora White apple juice, and Cloud can recognise the mixture of bitterness and resentment and confusion.

"Should've known you'd go visit," Barret says gruffly, and Cloud knew that his old friend was still often unsure where he stood with Genesis. Though Genesis bringing up his past as a friend of Sephiroth's did tend to make things tense, even at the best of times. "See?"

"And then," Genesis continued, "he later recognised which Act of LOVELESS I was referring to, and practically re-enacted an old conversation that I'd almost forgotten."

Barret stared, dumbfounded, and then started choking. Yuffie snorted, and began to laugh herself, because the idea of Sephiroth reacting in any way other than as the monster they'd known him as enough to act like that was, he had to admit, more than a it ridiculous.

Cloud shook his head, bemused.

It wasn't like he knew all that much about who Sephiroth had been before Nibelheim; perhaps he ha, before Hojo, but now most of what he knew was from afterwards, in the wake of swords and blood and mako and lifestream and wings and more blood.

Whoever it was that he had been before, that wasn't the Sephiroth who had nearly killed him and Zack, and it wasn't the Sephiroth who'd called down Meteor and killed Aerith, and it wasn't the Sephiroth who'd come out of the lifestream and taken over his Remnant.

But then, it looked like the Sephiroth who'd somehow come back - Aerith had suggested that Lucrecia had something to do with that, but she probably wasn't acting alone, either - probably wasn't going to end up being either of the two men who'd come before him.

He stole a glance at Vincent, who had been more quiet than even his usual in all of this, only to find him eyeing everything vacantly, an expression of distant longing on what little he could see of the ex-Turk's face, of the kind he hadn't seen since they'd found Lucrecia's cave.

It wasn't the first time he thought, this would've been so much simpler if he'd just acted like we'd expected him to, and had to kill him back there to defend ourselves.

#final fantasy vii #ff7 stuff #Leona fic #numbers on his hand verse

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mortalshinobi · 7 years ago

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Memories of Illusion

short fanfic of 9s taking revenge on A2 and having memories of 2b. enjoy

He reaches it, climbing the many levels of the main tower, reaching its peak even as dizziness wears on him, even as the logic sensors within his being tell him to turn back. Turn back. Preserve yourself. But for what? What does it matter anymore? With 2b gone there’s nothing to go back to. There’s no longer any value to his being. Everything he’s ever wanted or needed.... everything that made him value his core... they’re all gone now.

He stares at the small hand, one that matches his own in size that looks so similar to that of 2b but is all wrong. It doesn’t belong to her. It never did. It belonged to a copy, a fraud that bore 2b’s face and model. So he terminated it, terminated each and every inferior unit that was on the floor below. Though embarrassingly, not without taking some��damage himself. His own left arm had been taken because of his lack of caution. Not that it matters, he thinks, squeezing his left hand, taken from a fallen model. They were just copies, after all. Fakes. Illusions with her face and form! The real 2b, he thinks, she is gone and she is never coming back! And it’s all that woman’s fault! It’s...

“Unit 9s seems to be suffering a leak. Maintenance is suggested to address the problem,” he hears his pod say. He turns to regard the pod, giving it a small smile. Pod 153 is the pod unit assigned to assist him during missions but it is still a very practical unit who does not understand divergence of regular system standards. So 9s explains.

“It’s not a leak, 153. I’m simply crying.”

“Querry,” says the machine as he begins to walk anew. “Why does unit 9s cry?”

He is quiet for a moment before he answers, regarding the pod from behind his blindfold, sword held in twitching hand.

“Because I feel pain.”

“Querry. What is causing unit 9s pain?” says the machine floating above him.

He regards the pod for a moment before ignoring the question and heading upwards through the stairs, hearing the rumble from the generator below that shakes the floors above. The sound is very loud and he can feel that the building itself will give way as the stairs and walls begin to crack around him. The flat box like pod flies before him which he waves aside.

“Unit 9s should retreat. Grounds upon which he walks have become very unstable. Likely hood of collapse within the next ten minutes eminent.”

“It doesn’t matter,” says 9s, his scanners picking up the figure on the floor above, seeming motionless, waiting. For him, no doubt. His hand tightens on the hilt of his blade as he withdraws it in a quick arc. “I won’t be here long,” he hisses under his breath. One way or another, everything will end now. After he terminates unit A2.

It was weeks prior, when Yorja had been infiltrated with a virus leak from Eve, the machine life form taking on human identity. A destructive program that would make those infected lash out at those not infected with the virus, those who had separated from the core program. But even these could be infected. It infected 2b earlier, though he’d been able to hack into her systems and remove it, or so he’d thought. Apparently... driving into 2b’s systems had undesired effects, namely; exposing him to the virus.

Slowly... it seems to be affecting his programing, making his vision fuzz, systems blaring as they try to retain normal functions. It doesn’t matter though, because of the woman above. Because of what she did, and even as he walks closer towards her, his steps resounding on the stone floor, his arm shakes with anger, teeth grinding against one another as tears stream down his cheeks. It’s her fault! All of this is her fault! And she’ll pay for what she did to 2b!

“This unit is monitoring a continuance of said leak “crying.” says the pod, hovering before him. “It is suggested to move away from functions that cause unit 9s pain.”

He ignores the pod, pushing past it, gripping the handle of the door to the next room, opening it with a boom as he throws it open. The woman... the cause for his pain, stands almost motionless only fifty feet away from him, wind blowing through synthetic white hair as she turns slowly to regard him with sad eyes.

“9s,” she whispers in a disheartened tone as if the word itself weighs upon her conscious. 9s can only grit his teeth as he regards the tall woman before him, thinking back on that moment when he’d landed back on earth and chased after 2b, looking to find her, only just seeing her when the being before him cut her down, taking her away from him!

“Shut up!” he barks at her. “You have no right to address me by my name! Only 2b had that right... and you killed her!”

The woman sighs, her body tensing only slightly as she turns towards him, eyes cool but weighted with a pain he imagines 2b herself carried. She points her blade towards him, regarding him.

“I wouldn’t think a scanner model like yourself would be so foolish,” she says, “coming after me like this.”

Slowly the blade is lowered and she sighs, letting out a long breath.

“This isn’t what she wanted for you, you know? She wanted you to live a full, long life.”

“Shut up!” he yells, glaring at the woman before him. “What would you know about 2b?! Don’t talk about her like you knew her! You knew nothing about her!”

The woman presses her lips together in a frown before she responds.

“It appears it is you who knows nothing about the being you call “2b.” The truth of the matter you should now be aware of. 2b was an alias she was using to get close to you and monitor your being. Her real identification class was unit 2e. A yorha elimination unit, meant to watch over and eliminate rogue elements within the yorha program who began to step out of line from the objective. Units... like yourself.”

He begins to shiver, a giggle escaping his lips that turns into a full throated laugh. He’d already known about 2b’s identity. It wasn’t like she was very good at hiding that type of thing. Still... just to be around her was.... pleasurable. It made life worth living for and gave him something worth fighting for... even if in the end she was meant to kill him. Still... to have her taken away from him like this... because of this trash objective, an objective he’d also found out about which made all these missions down to earth redundant without meaning. And this causes so much pain that he can only hide behind a breaking madness that pushes to the surface. All this pain... it was caused... for nothing!

“So what?! What does that objective matter when humans are already dead?”

The words catch the woman off guard, a slight flinching to her eyes as she realizes he’s caught on to the truth, so he pushes on with his words.

“We were all just expendable units for Yorha. All of us.. Fighting for a lie without meaning! Me... 2b... thrown away for something that doesn’t exist anymore!”

“You’re wrong, 9s,” says the woman. “This tower contains the last of the data regarding humans. Unless we protect and stop its destruction, then...”

“So what?” he says, cutting her off. “Weren’t you listening to what I said? None of that matters anymore! Yorha is gone. Humanity is gone. 2b... is...”

He shivers, the tears he’d tried to deny before his enemy flowing freely. His pod floats before him, waving its arms as it speaks.

“Current actions are unsuitable for unit 9s. Unit A2 outclasses unit 9s’ combat ability and is causing unit 9s pain. It is suggested to retreat away from the cause of such pain and formulate a new strategy.”

“Sometimes...” says the young man, gripping his blindfold and pulling it away from his eyes which stare with a blinking red glare, threatening to shut off as the logic virus corrodes his systems. There is no salvation any longer. He will soon cease to exist as he is, he thinks. So there is no reason not to fight.

“Sometimes...” he says, “sometimes you just have to fight through that pain. Pod 153, until this fight is over and either unit A2 or myself are terminated, cease output of logic speak. That’s an order!”

He raises his blade, pointing it at the woman who simply regards him with sadness as she watches his pod unit float away.

“Is this what you really want?” she ask.

“You murdered 2b!” he growls. “There’s nothing else I want.”

He charges at the woman with a violence and ferocity normally unknown to the scanner units of his model, normally... but he has been around 2b too long, picking up combat strategies and knowledge coupled with the rage he has felt since her death, the desire to terminate A2 has grown to such a level that he attacks with strength he should not have, pushing past boundaries in his system parameters.

Even so, it seems that A2 holds back in her own combat objective, pushing aside his sword repeatedly, not a one swipe or strike seeming to come any nearer to removing her head from her shoulders than the last. This seems to only enrage him further. Is he so pathetic, so beneath her notice she need not put her full focus on him? Is he so weak he can’t even attempt to avenge 2b, to correct the wrongs that have been done her? No! This can’t be! He won’t let it end like this!

He strikes hard then, with a far harder blow that leaves him open briefly and for a moment he sees A2 raise her blade, considering putting it through his heart, but there is a pause, a desire to step away from such an action that he takes advantage of, thrusting his blade forward, through A2’s hated black box, piercing it through her chest. She stares back at him, wide eyed, the briefest of surprise and sadness in her eyes before she falls forward, slumping to the floor, the light in her eyes fading as her systems shut down. He’s succeeded... He thinks, looking upon her even as he struggles to move his legs, coughing blood and other fluids from his lips.

Shit, he thinks, raising a hand covered in viscous fluid. I wasn’t careful, he thinks, letting his forehead fall back against the floor even as the blade inside his flesh scrapes against the box inside his chest, digging deeper into the frame, making cough in more pain. But this is his fault anyways. In running A2 through with his own sword she’d instinctively brought her sword forward in a protective measure, inadvertently running him through as well.

Hands squeeze the hilt of the blade, teeth grit as he looks upon it, a light giggle escaping his lips. 2b’s sword. Of course it’d be her sword. Even when she isn’t here to kill him, she’s still the one to end his life. It’s so... Pathetic, to die this way... Again.

He lays his head against the floor, trying to push through the pain that is killing him, his eyes already fluctuating more severely further compromised by the virus.

“Well... 2b... I did it. I avenged your death. I’m sorry... I couldn’t live as you wanted me to.”

Tears form at the edges of his eyes as he looks out towards the empty terrain of the tower, the building rumbling, cracks running along fissures of the surface as the floor begins to tear to allow the weapon beneath them to fire at what remains of the data of the humans. Humans. Fighting for an illusion that no longer exist... It’s just like him to fight for something like that even when it no longer exist. Like 2b.... Who perished months ago. Who no longer exist. The irony of the situation is not lost to him. It’s just so... Pathetic, he thinks as a warm tear runs down his cheek. How is it he let it come to this... With his systems shutting down as the floor beneath him cracks and crumbles away?

He lays his head down on the floor, feeling it ripping apart even as his vision blinks between red and normal, flashing between blackness at spurts of increasing increments. It is just so... Pathetic.

I wish... He thinks, I wish I could have seen her one more time....

There is an echo in the distance, one that grows pronounced and louder as it seems to near, despite the rumbling of the earth beneath him, his vision only catching a figure in black with a flock of white hair.

“2b?” he whispers, even knowing it can not be the case. How can it, after all? Such is just fanciful thinking on his part as the 2b he knows died months ago. The only thing this could be... Is a fake. One of the models from the floor below probably come to investigate the disturbance on the floor above... And finish the work. He grimaces as this thought crosses his mind, thinking it such a cruel thing to have set upon him in his last moments.

The figure seems ignorant of such thoughts as she nears, her boots suddenly filling his vision as they stop before him. He grits his teeth in anger, fingers curling as he wishes to punch the being who bears her semblance.

“You’re not 2...” he whispers when his words are cut off by the android’s own voice.

“9s?” she says in question.

He hears his name, a name the models below could not know, and slowly lifts his pained head, vision still blinking between active and fading, to focus on a face with lips that curl into a worried frown and soft vibrant blue eyes that look upon him with concern.

“2b.....” he says, extending a hand towards, trembling as he struggles to make his body function when it wishes to give out, but wishing, that if this were a dream... Or illusion, that he can at least grasp it and not let go.

2b smiles down upon him, kneeling down and extending her own hand, grasping his between strong and powerful fingers.

“Let’s go home, 9s,” she says.

“yeah...” he whispers, even as his vision now clouds fully, seeming to shut down. “Let’s do that.”

Even if it is an illusion, he thinks. He’d rather hold this than embrace the emptiness that is reality. Anything is better than that, even lies of something... That does not exist.

#fanfiction #9s #a2 #2b #blood #death #tragedy #illusion #nier automata

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kookie-vith-suga · 8 years ago

Text

You don’t own me part 6

Excerpt:

“Naive little Y/N. Maybe one day you will realise that we live in a cruel world. The good wouldn’t be good anymore if there would be nothing bad to compare it to. I didn’t choose this life. But after living it for a while I realised that there are things worse than being on the bad side.“ “Worse than letting people die for you?”, you felt like choking.

Word count: 1784 // I know it’s short 😵 I’m sorry! Next one will be longer again ;)

Warnings: death, violence, angst! I finally did it 😋 And a little slight tiny smut 😉

Author’s note: Next one! Enjoy! @httpwyf @dont-hyuck @imbaekhyunstrash @holymolydrrad @jookyunhoe @vicassa @byunbunniess @literaltae @baekmuffin @bbhoodzz Love y’all ♥♥♥

part 1 || part 2 || part 3 || part 4 || part 5

Check out my masterlist ;)

It took you a while before you returned. It felt like everyone’s eyes were on you for some reason. You quickly checked your dress. Maybe something had shifted. But no. It was fine. You tried to hide your insecurities and held your head high. Your eyes locked with the man who seemingly was the host of the party. His look spoke volumnes. Lust.

Such a low instinct.

He licked his lips hungrily. You arrived your previous spot and wanted to sit down again but apparently Baekhyun had other plans. He stood up next to you and sneaked an arm around your waist. He pulled you with him towards the man. His face screamed anger.

“Thanks for the invitation Minseok. But we have to go now”, Baekhyun annouced.

“So early?”, he asked with a faked surprised voice, “Come on. Please stay more. You haven’t had any dessert yet.”

“I’m sorry I have some other event to attempt”, Baekhyun declined politely. He can hide his anger pretty well for such a feisty person.

“Oh I see. Then don’t bother staying. But your little companion”, his eyes scanned you, “She could stay and don’t worry. I would take good care of her.”

The words had left his lips only a second ago Baekhyun’s grip tighten so much you winced a little. There it goes…his masquerade.

“You little piece of shit! Be careful with what you are saying and to whom or you could lose that snarky tongue of yours”, Baekhyun voice was low and threatening.

The man called Minseok raised his arms defensively: “Okay relax. I’m only joking. You know me.”

“You better”, Baekhyun shot him a last glare before moving towards the door we had entered.

“You don’t seem to like him a lot”, you remarked after you had taken place in the backseat of the car.

He was starring at his phone screen. Reading something and ignoring you. You crossed your arms indignantly and slided a little away from him. After some time you eyelids felt heavy and you couldn’t stop them from closing.

“Hey sleepyhead. Wake up”, someone nudged you gently to the side. Your eyes opened slowly again. You head was resting against his shoulder. You shot up to a sitting position.

“Sorry”, a blush had taken over your face.

“I better escort you upstairs. I don’t want you to fall asleep in the elevator”, he laughed.

You wanted to protest but he took your hand in his and you entered the hotel. You stared at your hands and then back to him. Your face felt even hotter then before if that could be possible. You whined internally at your weakness.

As you reached the elevator he did the same procedure as always. The elevator doors closed and it moved upwards. He turned around and approached you. You stumbled back till you felt the cold metal wall behind you. He grinned at your actions. He placed one hand just a little over your belly button. It pressed you more against the wall while he other hand lifted your chin.

“Why so embarrassed?”, his hot breath met your exposed skin.

“Yo-o-ou are a little too close”, you stuttered halfheartly.

“Am I?”, he raised an eyebrow. His knee sneaked between your legs and spread them apart. Your bodies were almost connected at every possible point. You smelled the same combination of white whine and peppermint that you had tasted before.

Tempting actually. And you didn’t even knew why.

“The kiss”, he paused, “I really enjoyed it. I felt like where it came from there is more to come.” His grin was evil. He bended down and the elevator doors opened with the significant ding.

A horrifying scream escaped your mouth. Your eyed had widen to an unimaginable extent.

“What the fuck”, he cursed and rubbed his ear, “You could just push me away, you know.”

“N-n-n-o-o-o. L-o-o-k-k!” you could barely form those words. Multiple shivers had ran through your body.

He turned around and finally he saw what caused your horrors. A man was lying on the steps. On his back. His throat sliced open. His clothes soaked in blood. And even more blood around him.

You left the elevator and stepped closer. Never you had seen something so nasty. So shocking.

“Someone broke in.” Baekhyun pulled out a gun from his jackett. “Y/N go back to the elevator and close the door!”, he ordered.

But for you it felt like he was talking to you from a very far distant. He began looking around in the suite while you kneeled down next to the man. You gasped. You knew this man. He was the one who guided you around in this hotel. The bodyguard. He had also always brought you the food. You hadn’t really talked to him but this is nothing anyone deserves. Not even your worst enemy you would wish this. The man’s eyes were opened widely. He must have been scared in his last minutes. Tears began to drip down from your face onto his body.

“They left already”, Baekhyun walked down the stairs. He stopped next to you and the body. “Poor Yifan. He just married two months ago”, Baekhyun voice was monoton. No emotions at all. You looked up to him. How can someone react like this?

“We gotta get you out of here Y/N”, he reached for your arm to pull you up but you yanked it away.

“I’m not going anywhere and just leave him dying here. We have to call an ambulance!”, you yelled.

“Y/N!”, he grew impatient at your disobedience, “You are not save here. If they found this place they will find you anywhere else too. I guess you’ll have to stay at my place”, he bended down next to you, “Besides this he is already dead. There is nothing you could change about that.”

You glared at him with teary eyes before arising and stomping towards the elevator.

“Good girl. ”

The drive took a little while. It was too dark outside to really detect the direction but you noticed that you were leaving the city behind you driving into countryside. You fell silent during the whole car ride. You looked out of the window but in reality you weren’t looking anywhere. Your thoughts cycling around the dead body you just had seen. You had never seen a dead person before. For him this must be something you could say “common” already.

The car stopped in the middle of nowhere. Behind some great oak trees a big house appeared. The gate opened a little later so the car could drive up towards a big mansion. You exited the car not bothering to wait for someone to open your door and help you out. You felt his eyes following you as you stepped towards the entrance. He said something to the driver before approaching you. The car left again which let the both of you alone.

“Welcome to my realm”, he made a inviting gesture for you to enter first. Silently you walked past him.

“You know you should feel honored to be here. Only a few people are allowed to come in here”, his voice sounded daring.

“I’m tired. Where can I sleep?”, you ignored him.

“You haven’t said a word the whole time! Not even a sassy respond? Should I get worried?”, he chuckled bitterly.

“I’m sorry that I’m not so joyful after what I had just seen!”, you spat with so much anger in your voice. You turned your back to him. Tears were burning in your eyes again. You wanted to get away from him but he grabbed your arm.

“Things like this happen. We can’t do anything about it”, he lectured.

You turned around. A hateful look in your eyes.

“How can you be like this?! Were you born heartless or did this godforsaken business destroyed every fiber of humanity in your body?! He was a human being! With a wife! A family! And you just let him die. He won’t even get a proper burial, am I right? Will they ever get notified that he died?! Why should they?! He was just a minor inferior! And you don’t care! Why should you bother?! You are Byun Fucking Baekhyun!”

The words left your mouth before you could even think about what you were saying! How dangerous this could be. His face showed surprise and his mouth opened to reply but you didn’t allowed it.

“Yeah I know who you are! I know what you are doing! I know that all this is just some kind of play for you! Your acting like you want to protect me but in reality you would probably sell me to the best bidder if a good chance comes by!” You drummed your fist against his chest to release some anger. He grabbed your wrists to stop you. Your eyes locked.

“I would never do that Y/N”, he sounded so hurted it made your heart ache. His hand caressed over your cheek. “You gotta trust me.”

“How could I?”, the tears streamed down your face.

It was silent for a little. His hand still against your skin. The thumb slowly stroking over your jawline. This soothing motion wasn’t soothing at all. You body felt stiff at his touch.

“You are right. Maybe you cannot trust me. But your little friend. Jongdae. Do you also know what he does for his living?! Do you also know how many illegal weapons he already sold to my man?! Bad man as you would say! Do you also know that slicing people’s throat is a specialty of him?! You could say his trademark”, dislike echoed through all of his words as he raised an eyebrow.

You withdrew yourself forcefully. “Stop lying! Don’t pull him into your sick game!”

“Naive little Y/N. Maybe one day you will realise that we live in a cruel world. The good wouldn’t be good anymore if there would be nothing bad to compare it too. I didn’t choose this life. But after living it for a while I realised that there are things worse than being on the bad side.“

“Worse than letting people die for you?”, you felt like choking on your tears.

“What do you think was Jongdae searching for? Or should I better say who was he looking for in there?”, he questioned back.

Your breath hitched. “It’s my fault”, you whispered to yourself.

Do you all hate Baekhyun now? Why is he like this? I’m sorry I know I’m not funny 😁 Hope you enjoyed and stay tuned for more!

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