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little-miss-dumpsterfire · 4 years ago

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I think I made you up inside my head - chapter three

Chapter three my select few darlings! Yes, it’s already on wattpad (sorry if you’ve read it already) but I like to share!

Are you ready kids?

Chapter Three - I am only what you made me. I am only a reflection of you

Trigger warning - mental health issues and blood/gore.

If you're not comfortable, please skip. 💛

******************************************

Sharp tears prickled in his hazel eyes as the ability to form coherent words seemed to escape him. He had known the minor details surrounding Lindsay's untimely death - a reality tv darling dropping dead was headline-worthy - but her family were tight-lipped about the exact circumstances of her demise. His mind raced as he tried to comprehend how Izzy had known all of this; her knowledge rivalled that of a fly on the bathroom wall. As if she could hear his innermost thoughts, Izzy answered his unspoken question.

"I knew the right people to ask," she told him, brushing the hair out from in front of her eyes, "I knew she didn't just die. I wasn't going to let her death be treated in such a blasé fashion."

Axel choked, the words lodged deeply in his throat. "Bu- I mean... how did you get the mirror?"

"I found it one day. It was in a box on my doorstep. Any sane person would leave it be, but if the media established anything, I'm clearly not seen as sane. So I opened it. I don't know who sent it to me. My money's on a producer who revels in the sadistic thrill derived from the torment and suffering we went through. I couldn't throw it away though, because what would be left of her if I did? She was already condemned to the ground. I wasn't going to be the one to throw her memory to the wind."

Izzy looked to her left, her reflection dimly lit in the glass cabinet on the far wall. "In my head... all I think of is when it's all over, is this how I'll be defined? The final victim of Total Drama... that's etched into my brain. I'll become another knick-knack in a hall of curiosities. We're no longer people in here, Axel, we're collectables."

Thoughts bounced around erratically in Axel's head - conflicting notions manifesting like an angel and a devil on his shoulder. In front of him was a woman who was struggling with the turmoil outliving all of her friends. Yet, the magnetic pull of the almighty dollar swayed his actions towards chasing stardom.

He lightly gripped her forearm, giving her his best convincing empathetic smile.

"Tell me the stories. Let the voices out of the purgatory that is your mind. Everything...one, everyone in here will not be relegated to the sidelines, I won't let that happen." Axel assured Izzy, his warm smile twitching at the corners of his mouth.

Ignoring the suspicion that washed over her thoughts - for the time being at least - Izzy continued walking down the aisles of shelves. Axel shadowed her, following a few paces behind, mindlessly fiddling with the items on display. Two tarnished faux-gold lockets sat near each other, the two halves of the 'BFF' heart separate from one another. As he went to push the two sections together, Izzy stopped him abruptly and pushed his hand away.

"No," she started, startling Axel with the sudden sternness. "They can't be together. They don't share a heart anymore."

"So what? They grew out of being obnoxious teenage girls and went their separate ways. Big fucking deal!"

She stared daggers into him, holding the shelving for support. "You've got no idea, kid. Just because the sun's covered, it doesn't mean your shadow's gone."

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As far as appearances were concerned, Katie and Sadie were almost each other's doubles. Matching short pigtails with bright pink hair ties, coordinated short shorts, crop-tops and wedged sandals... the two looked like they fell from opposite sides of a funhouse mirror. To all of us on the cast, and the audience at home, no doubt, the only differentiating factor between the two was their build. Katie was slim and taller than Sadie by about four inches, whereas Sadie was shorter and carried more weight.

The two 'BFFL's sat together on the stairs leading to the dock, ready to film their segment for the opening sequence. Waiting for the crew to finish setting up the camera equipment, Katie busies herself with refastening her hair ties.

"Okay girls," an unseen producer informs them, "we need your best-infatuated expression. So give up wide eyes, big smiles, the whole nine yards."

The girls nod in response, awaiting their cue. Sadie clasped her hands against her chest - a wide smile plastered on her face - and Katie bit her lip coyly.

"And.... cut. Alright, move set to the dock for Beth's fire-baton stunt. Doug, remember the extinguisher this time." The producer called about. "Great job, girls. Especially you, Katie. That lip bite was dynamic."

Sadie looked to her right at her best friend. "Wait, you bit your lip? We agreed on a wide-mouthed smile."

"It's no big deal, I just wanted to try something different," Katie shrugged, readjusting her shoulder strap. "We can't always be the same, you know?"

Personality-wise, once you got to know them separately, it was like night and day. Katie was free-spirited, leading with her heart. Her passion for all things fashion was evident through her and Sadie's matching outfits and her behind-the-scenes chats with the likes of Lindsay and Heather. Sadie, on the other hand, was more logical, leading with her head. She was more likely to be the sheep as opposed to the shepherd. And when Katie was eliminated early? It was like leading a lamb to the slaughter.

Sadie sat on a jagged log at the campfire, head in her hands violently sobbing. Bridgette futilely offered her support, attempting to coax the girl from her hysterical state.

"Hey, Sadie, it'll be okay. You've got all us Killer Bass on your side." Bridgette lightly rubbed circles on the crying girl's back.

"No!" Sadie snapped at Bridgette, tears staining her cheeks. "It's not okay! I need Katie. When she's not near me, I break out in hives. She's my everything! I need her more than oxygen! Without her... I'll just die!"

Concerned expressions flashed on the faces of their fellow teammates as Sadie's wails echoed through the woods of Camp Wawanakwa. She clutched the debris from the dock closer to her chest; small cracks formed as wooden shrapnel shattered from around the edges.

What we thought back then was just a toxic 'uber' friendship between two sixteen-year-old girls was far more deep-rooted than any of us anticipated. Regarding Sadie... the best way to sum that up is to quote my dearly missed best friend Noah: 'Sadie is a whackjob with more baggage than an airport terminal'. But I suppose that is giving her a disservice. Upon Katie's departure, Chris was notified by Sadie's therapist of the extent of her mental state. I found out too because back then, well, let's just say you couldn't leave me in the dark for too long.

Sadie's childhood wasn't easy in the slightest. Her relationship with her birth parents was relatively non-existent. Therefore, she was surrendered into the custody of the state. The conveyor belt life of passing through the foster care system took a toll on the girl, with an absence of permanent parental love leaving holes in her heart. Her talkative nature and inhibitions to talk and hug strangers lead to her first visit to the therapist. She was a clear cut case for the child behavioural scientists: disinhibited social engagement disorder, an attachment disorder. Looking back, this was evident in all her future actions, particularly those with Katie.

The bell rang on the first day of their last year of high school. Sadie - dressed as per usual in fuchsia shorts and a striped crop top - eagerly skipped over to the locker of her best friend. As the locker door slammed and her friend came into view, the excited expression on Sadie's face dropped.

"K-Katie? What's this?" Sadie questioned, holding her sticker-covered folder flush against her chest.

Katie raised an eyebrow quizzically, straightening out her paper timetable to find her first classes location.

"What do you mean, Sadie?"

"I mean that!" the shorter girl exclaimed, gesturing at Katie's outfit. The taller girl had moved away from her typical Total Drama outfit, substituting it with a pair of denim jeans and a pastel pink cardigan.

"Oh, this? I just wanted to branch out a bit. I mean, matching outfits? What are we, twins?"

Katie giggled at her observation, with Sadie clearly missing the joke.

"Anyway, I have to get to English, but I'll see you around, yeah?" Katie chirped before walking off with two other girls.

Sadie stalked over to Katie's locker, using a spare hairpin to open it. Her heart broke upon looking at its contents. Gone were the photos of her and Sadie plastered onto her locker door. Cutouts from fashion magazines and runway shows lay in their wake and stuffed under a pile of books was the BFF necklace Sadie gifted her years prior.

Following their graduation, the pair had drifted apart. Katie received an offer to the most prestigious fashion school in Canada and left their small town for Toronto. Unbeknownst to her, Sadie followed suit and got a job at a sewing goods store. Sadie became Katie's shadow, desperately following her every move. Her morning routine was memorised, her coffee order became part of her mental wallpaper. Sadie's infatuation only grew, as in her mind, distance made the heart grow fonder. If only Katie knew that this distance was all of a few metres.

A harsh squeak dripped from the tired hinges of the ladder as Sadie climbed up the rungs, fastening something onto her wall. For her neighbours, the sound had become a part of their daily lives, as day after day, Sadie adhered more photos on the apartment wall. The collage of the lush green of leaves, the yellow of the bustling taxis and blue of the cloudless sky swirled around on the wall, catching a person's attention as they entered the room. A timber coffee table was neatly placed on the left, adorned with additional photo frames and miscellaneous decorations. The centrepiece to her display shimmered brightly when the morning sun shone through the gap in the curtains. Perched in a small, open velvet lines box was one half of a golden heart-shaped 'BFF' necklace.

Sadie took a step back and tilted her head, taking in the view from as many angles as she could. She had finally achieved the pinnacle of her undying love and infatuation for her former 'BFFL'. Neatly arranged across the length of the wall was a mural, dedicated to her muse, to the reason she woke up every morning. Candid photos of Katie walking down the street, exiting cars and meeting friends for coffee dates were carefully taken by the shadow she didn't know that she had.

A year and a half passed. There was a stark dichotomy between Katie and Sadie's lives. The final year of her fashion degree was approaching quickly, and Katie was not entering it alone. I don't know how many of us predicted it - probably Noah with his impeccable 'gaydar' - but Katie had fallen in love with an architecture student called Daisy. From what was depicted on their respective social media accounts, it was clear to us that they were enamoured with one another. The presence of another woman in Katie's life infuriated Sadie, as she believed that that position was reserved for her and her alone.

Then came the drop in the ocean that caused the whole tsunami. If it wasn't for Katie's selfless nature... well, I imagine things would've turned out a lot differently.

Katie sat cross-legged on the couch, a decorative throw rug draped across her lap. Their rescue cat, Archibald - a male calico - rested behind her head, purring with content as she opened her laptop. Her fingers barely touched the trackpad as she scrolled through her Facebook feed, bypassing ads for strange items and memes about the current political climate.

"Ekaterina," an auburn-haired girl walked through the doorway, a basket of washing in her hands. "I'm making something for lunch after I finish this washing. I'll probably use what's left in the fridge and make a frittata. D'you want some?"

"Ooh, yes please, Dais," Katie smiled at her partner, who poked her tongue out at the use of her nickname.

Katie clicked on her latest post to see who had reacted and liked. A smile crept across Katie's face as she clicked onto the picture: a photoshoot in a field on flowers where a bright ring sparkled on Katie's ring finger. She looked down at her left hand, still in a state of shock at Daisy's proposal. One name stuck out as Katie scrolled through the comments. She hadn't thought of them for years now and wondered what they were getting up to.

She clicked on their profile to compose a new message. Daisy walked up behind her and scratched Archibald's head before planting a kiss behind Katie's ear.

"Oooh, who are you talking to? Not your girlfriend, I hope," Daisy taunted, giggling breathlessly.

Katie threw her head back against the couch cushion and looked up at her fiancée.

"Yeah, I'm shopping elsewhere. I need someone who appreciates my nicknames!" Katie threw back, puffing her cheeks out comically. "No, you goose. It's this girl I used to go to school with. It's been forever and a day, and I thought I'd see how she's going."

"Sadie Calhoun... isn't she that one you went on that show with?"

"Yeah... I felt like such a poser back then. I don't think I've ever squealed since," Katie responded.

"Hey, people change. I had such a crush on you when I saw you on TV, and look now!" Daisy told her before walking away towards the kitchen. "I snagged the girl of my dreams!"

Katie laughed as she typed an introductory line, sending it through before closing her laptop.

*********

A sudden buzz from her phone against the wooden table shook Sadie out of her delirium. She had been sat before her photo wall, carefully cutting out photos of her face for what could have been hours. Paper scraps lined the wooden flooring like irregular speckles of snow as Sadie rose to her feet. Picking up her phone, her eyes shone brightly with its blue light as a squeal escaped from between her lips.

On her screen - behind the myriad of cracks and scratches - sat a notification that held Sadie's heart in a tight grip: Message request from Ekaterina Byers.

If this were a sitcom, I'm sure Sadie would've pinched herself at that moment to assure that she wasn't dreaming. But with one olive branch in the form of an instant message, Katie had signed her own death warrant.

Sadie opened the notification with bated breath, her cheeks aching from the smile that was cemented in place. Her heart fluttered with anxious butterflies as she read the message.

Ekaterina Byers:

"Hi, Sadie. I wonder if you remember me, probably not! High school seems like forever ago! Haha! 😝 I just thought I'd reach out and see if you wanted to get a coffee sometime and just catch up on life!"

The words swirled and danced before Sadie, who lovingly took in every single one with deep adoration and love. Everything she had wanted to tell her, the praise she had wanted to shower Katie in bounced around in her head. She placed her phone down, forcing herself to calm down before she wrote a response.

Sadie Calhoun:

"Oh, hi! OMG! Of course, I remember you! I'd love to catch up! You're the busy fashion designer, so you pick a time when you can squeeze an old friend in! 😎 💕" Watching the three dots in the bottom left corner caused Sadie's breath to hitch in her throat. She was typing... Katie was typing. They'd finally be reunited, not just from behind a camera lens. She felt as if she was in the painting 'The Creation of Adam', just a fingers touch away from her god, her whole world.

Ekaterina Byers:

"Haha, as if! I'm not there yet 😂 Would next Friday suit? Say about 9am at the Good Coffee Co. I need to hand in my portfolio at 8:30 so that'd work well."

Impulsively, acting out of desperation alone, Sadie immediately responded.

Sadie Calhoun:

"Yes! I'll be there! See you soon, Katie! 💕"

Sadie locked her phone before focusing her attention back to her craft. She picked up her scissors, skilfully manoeuvring around the edges of the photos. She stuck the product onto the wall and gazed upon it proudly. Hundreds of small cut out photos of her head were plastered on the wall, covering up any person Katie was with, replacing them with herself.

They did meet up, that much we do know. Testimonials from five different individuals confirmed that they saw the two girls at that café on Friday the 25th. What they talked about is up for speculation, because that stayed between the two of them. Why were testimonials needed if two young adults were just catching up over a cup of coffee? Because that was the last time Sadie Calhoun and Ekaterina 'Katie' Byers were seen alive.

Katie's eyelids drooped as she sat in the passenger seat of Sadie's car. Sadie - the 'good samaritan' that she was - had offered to drive Katie home after she suddenly felt light-headed following her coffee. Sadie parked in the driveway and opened Katie's door for her, helping her up as she tiredly hobbled towards the front door. Katie wearily collapsed onto the couch, her eyes barely registering the environment around her. She could hear faint crashing and shattering sounds as she struggled to keep her eyes open. She looked down upon the couch she was dozing on and sat up with a start.

"This isn't my house," she whispered to herself, scanning the room for any familiar objects. She froze in place when she spotted something utterly recognisable to her: her face. Hundreds of different angles of her face created a mosaic, a shrine to a friendship that was never meant to last.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?"

Sadie smiled sweetly as she entered the room. "It couldn't be anything but. Not when the subject is as exquisite as you."

Confusion washed over Katie's face as Sadie approached her, a clothed parcel delicately held in her hands. Sadie reached up to caress her old friend's cheek; Katie snaked away from the touch, petrified of the girl in front of her.

"Hmm. That's the problem, isn't it?" Sadie soliloquised, her grey eyes meeting Katie's scared onyx eyes. "You stopped being Katie. You stopped being my best friend. I know Katie is living in those photos, not 'Ekaterina'. Katie wouldn't have left me. No, not at all. Forever isn't a term to just throw around."

Black tears dripped down Katie's face as she silently sobbed. "W-we were kids. What we were wa-wasn't healthy. We're two separate people, Sadie! I couldn't live being so connected to a shadow. I wanted t-to shine on my own."

"But I don't wanna be separate people! I want to be with you... to be you. To never be apart from you!" Sadie passionately yelled as Katie started to slump down in front of her. The world around her became dark as her lids closed tightly. As her consciousness drifted, a phrase echoed through her head.

"Don't worry now. We'll never be apart again."

*********

Excruciating pain emanating from her side woke her with a jolt. A dull haze covered her field of vision, but as she pulled her hand away from her waist, she could see it as clear as day. A warm layer of blood coated her hand like a glove. Her eyes slowly settled to the room she was in. Metres ahead of her was the collage of photos, but the furniture has been removed, leaving a wide-open space.

Her fingers felt around to find the source of the pain, coming across thick strands of string attached to her waist. A scream silently bubbled up inside her, threatening to explode.

Rough, uneven strands of double-wound fishing wire had been haphazardly sewn into both her and Sadie's sides, connecting them to each other.

A groggy smile spread across Sadie's plump cheeks as she revelled in her actions. "I told you we'll never be apart again."

An extreme shock was the only emotion Katie was able to come to terms with. Her body was statuesque; set in place by a fear-driven paralysis. A dryness inhabited her mouth, inhibiting her ability to swallow the truth in front of her. The room swayed and distorted around her - a prison cell painted with her face - as she forced her eyelids shut. This couldn't be reality. It was the sick dream of a girl trapped in the suffocating world of a teenage girl.

The pain Sadie felt in her abdomen only further fuelled her pleasure, letting every wave of pain wash over her in euphoric ecstasy. Her heart felt complete again as if she had regained a long-lost limb.

"I knew we'd become one again," Sadie hummed, intoxicated by being in Katie's presence. "Daisy was just a placeholder... keeping the bed warm for me. With every thread... every stitch... our closeness is now defined. We'll never be apart again. Best friends for life."

"...for...life," Katie mumbled, fresh blood weeping from her wounds.

Night and day passed slowly, the shadows cast from the pair forming contorted, misshapen dark splotches on the walls. A sickening warmth surrounded Katie, whose heartbeat pounded heavily in her ears. Her waist was bruising a deep purple, with the surrounding blood vessels snaking across her abdomen. Sadie was shaken awake by Katie's convulsions as her body became slick with a layer of sweat.

"Katie? I'm here, it's okay."

"I don't feel good... I want Daisy," Katie slurred, lazily searching the room for her partner.

The 'tethering' procedure was as wildly unsuccessful as one could imagine. Sadie's homemade suture kit - a sharpened metal knitting needle and fishing line - only managed to pierce through Katie's large intestine. Bile and stool seeped into her abdomen, eventually finding their way into her bloodstream. The coroner estimated she died two days later of septic shock.

A thin beam of light eclipsed the drawn curtains and rested on Sadie's face as dawn broke. Her hand moved softly to caress Katie's hand; a stiff claw lay in her wake. An overwhelming panic flooded Sadie's system as she attempted to wake the other girl from her 'deep' slumber. Half-lidded blood-red eyes stared back at Sadie, a trickle of dried blood pooled at her temple. Sadie's heart shattered like a golden locket as she cradled the limp body in her arms, pulling the skin taut around her suture wounds. The shadow had won. It had succeeded in snuffing out what was left of the light.

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"What happened to Sadie in the end?" Axel asked, taking a minute amount of sadistic glee from the story.

Izzy turned to face the young man. A single tear crept down her cheek as she fiddled with her rings. "She refused to live without Katie. She starved to death, all the while she left Katie's decomposing corpse attached to her hip like a growth."

Izzy wiped the tear from her eye, suppressing sniffles as Axel glanced around the room.

"Hmm...Alright. Who's next then?"

#td #horrorfic #katieandsadie #wowee

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ranger-kellyn · 4 years ago

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11 Favorite Excerpts

In honor if it being the 11 year anniversary of the first fic I ever posted, Platinum Bound, I thought I’d list out 10 of my favorite excerpts from everything I’ve posted so far, 1 from something I haven’t posted yet, and then kind of just. Talk about it~

As always, feel free to talk to me about any of my fics, no matter how old or new~ I’m very vain~<3

1 - Come With Me - Prologue - 03/02/2015 - Completed

A day that was supposed to be filled with sorrow and mourning had turned out to be very lovely. The cold that had long persisted since November had decided to lighten its icy grip on this one day in particular. It was almost a tragedy in itself that the weather failed to match the mood by pouring a relentless downpour. Rain was fit for a funeral. Not sunshine.

The opening to Come With Me has always had a special place in my heart, and while I know my writing has gotten better since then, I always hold up this opening as like...my premium brand, I suppose. I love the mood the prologue sets up for Siebold’s side of the story. Mismatched weather. His parents having the same death date. A sense of odd relationship dynamics with them. Clear indication that there’s going to be a lot of conflict with Jean as shown by Diantha, Siebold’d childhood friend, who has a clear disdain towards him. CWM may not be my BEST WORK, but it’s probably one of my favorites. ALSO....come on...the restaurant’s name is Apple of The Earth, which is a direct translation of pomme de terre, which is French for potato. And like???? i just get a little kick out of it every time

2 - It Takes Two - 12/16/2014 - Oneshot

Siebold chuckled. “A water dark type? ��My, my. You’ve already put yourself at a disadvantage. Cress shook his head. “Don’t give away your secret ingredient just yet, Siebold. Leave something to the imagination, please,” he teased.

If there is ONE THING I LOVE it’s writing flirty banter for these two, and this fic if full of it. My first fic for Cress/Siebold, staking my claim on the pool noodle that is this ship. I AM the captain of this pool noodle

3 - Second Chances - Chapter 7 - 06/14/2017 - Ongoing

“It was supposed to be me!” . . . Shaking, she stopped herself in the front hallway. Looking over the large, glass-famed map, she felt as though she was leaving her own body as she slammed herself against it in a last ditch effort to feel something other than emotional pain. In an effort to put a physical wound to her emotional one.

There’s plenty of happier lines from this fic I could choose. Ch 10 had a section I was considering instead, but I think this emotionally charged section has always stood out for me. I like to generally characterize Cynthia as someone who is in control of her emotions, or at the very least, is very good at compartmentalizing things, but here, she absolutely loses it. No rationality. No seeking help. Just raw pain. It was supposed to be me. Because it was! It absolutely was! In the previous chapter you learn that Diantha had fully intended to propose to her! But was instead manipulated by her mother and manager into leaving Cynthia. While Cynthia didn’t know that, we do, and that makes that line so much more painful to me. I swear. ONE DAY. I’ll actually finish this fic.

4 - Fortune and Fame - Chapter 1 - 03/23/2016 - Completed

“The best part of that outfit would be taking it off.” Her mouth turns into a smile. “I should think so,” she tells you.

Second person POV is a HUGE pain in the ass, but I still love this silly little fic, and I love this silly little moment EVEN MORE. What can I say. I love flirty banter. This whole fic was an absolute experiment, and while it certainly could be better, considering 2POV is not something I regularly work with, I’ve never been too upset with it.

5 - Stockholm - Chapter 4 - 06/20/2016 - Ongoing

“You’re my mission and my mission alone. I don’t need outside help,” he tells me. I catch myself about to laugh. “Figured you would welcome it seeing as whatever you think you’re doing to me clearly isn’t working.” He moves closer, enough for me to feel the warmth of his body, but it’s only when I think he’s looking at my lips do I come to my senses, pulling my legs up to my person, and pushing back up against the wall. “I would say it’s working just fine.”

i like to think of this fic as me playing in a sandbox. i don’t REALLY know what i’m doing, but i’m having fun, and that’s all that matters. This is a fic I had been thinking about for the longest time. I abandoned it back in 2016. I don’t really remember why, but I posted the first update early this year, and I just. I’ve been loving it since. I haven’t played in first person in SUCH a long time, it’s just nice to play in the space, and explore a darker emotion I guess. Game verse Commander Saturn/Dawn is always a weakness of mine

6 - Shadows of My Heart - Chapter 4 - 02/22/2011 - Completed

Looking at Kellyn, I notice that he has taken his jacket off and is now offering it to me. Shaking my head, I tell him that I can't take it, even though I would love nothing more than to take him up on his offer. He walks closer, smiling as he places his jacket over me. Now, the only thing I hear is the sound of the rain bouncing off of Kellyn's jacket, and the sound my own heartbeat. I'd have to be crazy or dead to not be blushing right now, and obviously my pulse is still going…

if you’ve followed me for a few years, you might think this is a weird pick for me. i complain about it a lot. i experience a lot of visceral cringe whenever i reread it (Like i did just now searching for a section i liked) But that’s why I like it. I love having this visible benchmark of where I’ve come from, and where my ideals have shifted to. I’ve always written Kellyn as my Ideal Man™© and in this fic he is suCH A “NICE GUY” AND IT’S JUST. SO BAD. I’M SO GLAD I’M NOT WITH THE KIND OF PERSON I USED TO WISH I WAS WITH. This fic is, at best, clumsy. Younger me was venting a LOT of stuff. Everything I put Rhythmi through in the fic, I was dealing with irl, and NOT handling them well. I never recommend this for reading, but I list it here because it’s like looking in a time capsule.

7 - Washington Blues - Chapter 2 - 04/30/2012 - Abandoned Work

Looking back up at me, the afternoon sun shines on her face. As if I needed to be reminded that she is very pretty. “I believe that it is too soon to be giving a definite answer, but,” she pauses to brush some hair behind her ear, “I do believe I am going to like it here.” I nod, liking the answer she has provided. I put my pink bag over my shoulder, and step down the stairs. “That’s good to hear. I do hope you come to love our little band,” I say, putting a little emphasis on “our”. Hopefully she will start using that term as well.

This fic has been abandoned since 2012, but as I was rereading it just now, I...felt a weird urge to give it a second chance? Marching band was my EVERYTHING in high school. It was basically my personality. It and Homestuck. If nothing else, I think I might give this fic a redo, because it’s something my younger self would have loved. I had so many ideas I wanted to explore and I think it would be a fun space to explore. Just reading it I got the most tactile memories of band camp, from the sounds, all the way down to the god awful smells. One day I’ll give this fic another go, but probably in 3rd person lmao. Also, it’s kind of funny. I remember holding this fic up as like. My Magnum Opus. I considered chapter 1 to be the BEST thing I had written up to that point. Now? It’s so fucking D RY......and no real person talks like they all do l m a o I love being able to see how far I’ve come.

8 - Hindsight - Sometime Feb 2014? - Oneshot for an old RP group

This question led him to placing both of his hands in his lap. “I would never describe her as winter. It’s the season she hates the most. From what I’ve gathered during our travels together, understandably so,” he answered, not meeting her eyes.

While this fic is OLD it holds a very special place in my heart. I had stopped writing for a while. For about 2 years nothing I wrote ever really panned out, and joining that RP group was literally the best thing I could have done for my creativity. It was so much fun, and I met some truly incredible people thanks to it. Literally, everything I’ve written since I attribute to that group. <3 I may not talk to most of them anymore, but I have some of the best memories of that time, and I just. Genuinely don’t think I would have HALF of what I have written now if it hadn’t been for their support. <3

9 - Ours For The Taking - Chapter 2 - 01/28/2012 - Abandoned Work

Killing is in the nature of almost every Pokémon, but we humans have inhibited that out for the most part. It doesn't take much to trigger the instinct though. A couple kills and then they thirst for blood.

Now i know this looks like a WACK ASS PICK. It’s been abandoned since 2012. It’s bad. It’s gore. It’s bad. But that’s exactly why I picked it. That, and I know it would chap Farla’s ass bc she told me years ago how awful this fic was. The whole reason my writing confidence took a blow. I can look back and know that this fic wasn’t great, but I hate for my younger self that they were knocked down like that. You can’t learn the boundaries of your writing until you try to push them. Maybe I could have turned into a great gore/horror writer if I hadn’t been knocked down? Who knows? But because of that negative experience, I now approach all comments I leave on fics with “unconditional positive regard”. I firmly believe if someone wants con-crit they’ll ask for it, and even then, I’m not someone who is going to offer up that criticism. That’s not my jam. I’m just here for a good time. This fic may be bad, but that’s why I love it. I love how over the top, 2Edgy4me the two chapters are.

10 - Getaway Car - Chapter 5 - 01/01/2019 - Ongoing

Pulling away just enough to make them look at one another, Cynthia looked her over. She was getting more drunk admissions than she ever thought she would, and she was in no frame of mind to worry about pushing her luck. “How did that make you feel?” she asked. She let her hand trail down her arm as she spoke. “Grounded. Like nothing else in the world mattered except us in that moment. I wasn’t worried about filming, deadlines, what people might say or think, or– anything, really. All that mattered was the calm you brought me, and how without meaning to you’ve made me feel like the most important person in the room.”

It’s no secret that Getaway Car is like. MY BABY. This is MY FIC. MY BABY. I CHERISH THIS FIC FOR SO MANY REASONS. I like venting through characters, and this fic is no exception. But I loved writing this moment specifically, because it just...I think it encapsulates everything Diantha has been looking for. She lives a charmed, chaotic life. Up to that point in the fic, she’s with a man who can’t really be bothered to give her the time of day, but also can’t handle the idea of letting her go. Without meaning to, without necessarily trying to, Cynthia makes her feel like the most important person in the room. She grounds her, and someone who lives a star-studded life needs that. This fic is my baby. My everything. It’s probably what I’m known for at this point, and I’m A-OK with that because these two are my everything. (ALSO, I specifically posted this fic when I did to get Farla to leave me a review, and had a good laugh about it when she did. My “bat shit crazy” plot device has ended up being my most popular fic~)

11 - Namtaflu - Chapter _ - Draft from NaNoWriMo 2019

The sound of something rising to the surface of the water attracted everyone’s attention. Turning their eyes towards the water, one by one, countless Starmie and Staryu began to surface, floating atop the water, their bright gem center’s shining in the moonlight. “Oh, wow,” Bianca said, holding the Audino closer to herself. "What are they doing?” Hilbert asked, turning himself so he wasn’t having to strain to look at them. Cheren shrugged. “They’ve always done this.” "They’re looking at the stars,” Hilda added. “It’s what Nona would always tell me. She said she read it in a book somewhere. They surface at night to look at the stars, and they’ll even start blinking here soon.” As she said it, from out in the distance, quick flashes of red began to move along the waves, reminding both her and Cheren of fireflies from further south. Soon enough, the entire shoreline was filled with the water pokémon blinking away at the stars, almost as if they were communicating with each other, or even something else. A few Audino continued to sit with them, everyone moved to silence by the display, afraid to make a single noise, not wanting to scare them at all and make them stop. The display moved in waves, like a heartbeat, ebbing and flowing. At times they were bright enough to cast a glow onto the shore, and at others it seemed like they had collectively stopped for the night. Once Broadway and Manhattan had decided to retire for the night, the group came to an agreement that it was time they retired for the night as well. They had stayed up long past sundown, but it had been worth every second.

I won’t be posting this fic WELL until my three current ongoing fics are completed, but this fic is pretty much everything to me. I first got the idea for this fic back in 2013, my senior year of high school. I wrote the first draft my first NaNoWriMo in 2014, and did a second draft of it last year. This fic has evolved SO MUCH, but this last draft is where I’m REALLY happy with it. I firmly believe there’s never a “right time” to write a fic, but I also believe this fic absolutely benefited from me not posting it after that first draft. They’re almost two entirely different stories. The original had a lot of unhealthy relationship dynamics, and this time, i decided, FUCK THAT, and now it’s a hilda/hilbert/cheren/bianca poly fic ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ I can’t wait for the day when I actually get to share this fic with the world.

#writing tag #my fics #i spENT ALL DANG DAY ON THIS

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dapper-ships-herself · 5 years ago

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First kisses aren't always so sweet

I know I said the next thing I was going to write would be one of those two scenarios I posted about, but then this came to me last night and I wrote it in a fury, so that's where we're at.

A Gilahara (Chuuya and ADA! Gillian) piece.

Warning from some description of violence and blood, if that bothers ya.

---------

Dust stuck to Chuuya’s lungs, the jacket sleeve he held to his face doing little to keep it out. Rubble crumbled beneath his shoes, glass crunching with each step.

“Damn.” He cursed. He didn’t know where anyone else was right now, all he knew was that thing and its handlers had sure done a number on this place.

A colossus, summoned and brought to life by that damn Mary Shelley and her cult of freaks. What a mess.

He heard a cough up ahead, and his head snapped in its direction. A figure could just barely be seen through the haze. Instinctively, his body went into a ready stance, poised to launch himself at the potential enemy. It was only as they drew closer that he realized who it was, and he instantly relaxed.

Gillian, with her fluffy, brown hair matted with dirt, and black smudged along her face and clothes, the cloth also ripped in some places. Despite that, despite their surroundings and the obvious hell she’d just been through, when she saw him at the same moment he registered her, she smiled. “Hey Chu-tan, fancy meeting you here.” Her voice sounded hoarse from the dust in the air, but it still sounded like music to him.

“What the hell are you doing here?” His question was rough, but in actuality he was so relieved to see her he felt like he could just run right to her and crush her against himself. His feet stay rooted though, because that relief is mixed in with the absolute terror of realizing she’s here, where that thing is still lurking somewhere.

“Same as you,” She says “I’m trying to fix this.”

He grits his teeth. “No offense, Gillian, but I just watched what it’s capable of; there’s no way you can beat it.” So get away from it.

“I won’t know unless I try. And does that mean you’re gonna stop it? Because you seem to be no better off than I am right now.”

It was true he’d seen better days. His own body was covered practically head to toe in grime, his suit ripped and covered in flecks of blood that had mixed with the dirt to form a gross muck. Still, he stood straight, hopping down from the raised bunch of concrete he’d been on to stride towards her. “What’s your plan, then, huh? How are you going to stop it? Your voice? I doubt even your ability is enough to calm that thing down.”

“Look at what it did to this place; imagine what it’ll do to the city if it’s not taken care of here.”

He stopped mere inches from her, his eyes boring into hers. He saw fear deep within the blue, but it was wrapped in a thick iron determination that didn’t falter even under his hard stare. It wasn’t that he thought she was weak, he knew the strength hidden in her small body, knew the force of nature her voice could be. Thinking about her going against that thing, though; even she… “It’ll crush you.”

“What’s your plan, then? Do you even have one?” She crossed her arms defiantly, her gaze not leaving his once.

His scowl deepened. He had an idea, all right, but it was stupid. He’d been mulling over his options just before she’d shown up. He knew how extreme the situation was, but the consequences just didn’t seem worth it. There was certainly some other way to stop that thing from reaching the city, something that wouldn’t come at such a great cost to himself. That was before he knew she was here. Here, in this place and ready to throw herself in its path if it meant saving even one person. A rumble in the distance reached them.

“My ability,” he started. He saw her expression shift with the change in his voice, confusion blossoming at the flat acceptance it’d taken on, all anger and frustration drained away in a second. He seemed calm. “has another aspect to it. A true form, capable of crushing an opponent in seconds, leaving nothing in my way. All I need to do is let lose all my inhibitions and I will be unstoppable. It’ll be more than enough to stop her Frankenstein.”

“What?” She whispered “If you have something like that, then why…” some realization sparked in her eyes, and they widened slightly. “What does it cost you? Moves like that always cost something. My own scream leaves me emotionless and robotic for hours, what does this true form do to you?”

“It’s called corruption, and that lack of inhibition means that once I activate it I can’t stop it. Corruption will keep fighting even after everything around me is crumbled, and it’ll sap away my strength until it uses me up entirely.”

“No… No, how could you ever use such a dangerous ability if it destroys you? There’s no way- Dazai. You and him used to be partners, didn’t you? His ability would stop yours before it could do permanent damage.”

“That’s right.” He nodded watching her work it out.

“But he’s miles from here! He’s back in the city, we have no way to even contact him if there was a way he could get here in time!” the fear buried in her eyes was starting to leak out, as she realized what Chuuya had already decided. “You can’t.” Her whispered voice broke, and then the panic made it rise again. “If you do that then you’ll-“

His hand came up to grip the back of her head, pulling her towards him at the same time he surged forward. He kissed her, deep and rushed, pouring more words than he could ever say into the action. The open palm of his other hand rested on her back, helping to push her body further into his. He wanted to feel as much of her as he could while he had the chance. He was acutely aware of her own hands wrapping around him to grab at his shoulders, and of the tears he could taste mixing with the flavor of her lips. Who did they belong to?

He made himself pull back, and only allowed himself a moment to rest his forehead against hers, before pulling away. His coat whipped up around him as he turned his back and walked quickly away from her.

“Chu-tan. Chu-tan, wait!” She called behind him. He refused to look, even as he heard her footsteps trying to catch up.

His ability activated around him, and with a single leap he was far above the ground, heading in the direction of the noise the thing made.

“Chuuya!” She screamed, raw and loud. It still sounded like sweet music to him, as it faded into the distance.

------

The earth was shattered beneath him. Cracked and splattered with gore. Pieces of that thing littered the ground, its blood mingling with that of the people who’d controlled it.

He loved it.

Manic giggles peeled from his throat. With each wild swing of his arms, more balls of dark energy flew from his palms and tore apart his surroundings.

This was bliss. Pure carnage, unobstructed chaos, ruin beneath his feet. He threw his head back and full on cackled. Blood flew from his lips into the air.

---

Her feet pounded against the ground, desperate pants sounding from her as she ran.

---

A spray of dust flew into his face. Not that it mattered. Stone cracked and blew away at his touch, and he laughed at it, his wide eyes not really seeing it. All he cared about was destruction, all he saw was red.

---

She stumbled, and her palm was sliced by a sharp chunk of rock. She payed it no attention, not stopping in her race.

---

He threw another black ball, stumbling forward from the momentum, nearly falling over before catching himself. His arms hung limp before him. His laughter didn’t stop, but it was heavy now.

---

She could hear the rumbling so close now, a random crashing that shook the ground and made her steps unsteady.

---

Blood trickled from his eyes like crimson tears. It came from his nose, from his mouth, from his ears, turning his face into a red mess.

---

She could see him. He stood hunched over in the midst of his wreckage, rippling with energy and a crazed look in his eyes. Angry red and black lines covered his skin like great wounds cracking him apart.

Gillian pushed forward, skidding over scattered rock, jumping over the deep fissures marring the ground. He was still so far away.

She couldn’t help it; his name flew from her lips in a desperate cry. “Chuuya!”

His head swiveled to face her. His smile twitched for a moment, before spreading even wider than before. Finally, something new and whole he could break.

He was in front of her in a blur, his bare hands snatching her by the neck in the same second and lifting her from the ground. She gave a strangled cry as her windpipe was crushed.

“Ch-Chuu-ya…” She forced out. He squeezed harder.

She strained to look down at him, into his crazed eyes that watched her struggle with glee. His fingers dug into her throat, bruising the skin.

Still though, still her eyes softened from fear to utter gentleness. “Chu…-tan. I know… you’re still there.”

Her shaking hand came up to rest against his pale cheek. She reached deep within herself, grabbing hold of every bit of power she could muster in that state, and poured it all into her command. “Come back, Chu-tan, please.”

He shuddered, the silvery purple aura coming from Gillian washing over his body. His grip loosened slightly, and her breathing became easier. With more breath, her voice became stronger, and she spoke again. Her voice echoing and ethereal, ringing through the open space.

“I know you can do it, Chu-tan. You are not lost to this power. Do you hear me? Turn off corruption, come back.” Her soothing voice flooded him, clashing against the chaos within him, mixing and roiling. The darkness raged, rearing and spitting and clawing, but the light just embraced it. The marks on his skin started to flake off and drift away in wisps of smoke. He stumbled forward, her feet thumping back to the floor, his grip on her neck a weak squeeze. Her other hand cupped his face as well, her thumbs wiping away the new clear tears cutting a path through the blood.

“Come back to me.” She said. With the grip on her throat gone, her power ripped through the sourness she could feel and made her voice come out strong and sure.

His legs buckled, and he fell forward, taking both of them to the ground. The marks of corruption faded and flew away, his eyes losing their wild energy and falling closed as the exhaustion immediately lulled him to sleep before he’d even finished falling.

Gillian landed on her butt, and caught Chuuya against herself, his head resting against her chest. She gasped for breath, her mouth tasted of iron and her throat was raw and pained from a combination of being choked and forcing so much power out like that. The will of corruption was strong, she could feel the mindless chaos fighting back against her, but there was no way she was going to have submitted to it. Not when it was threatening to take Chuuya.

She looked down at the dirty mop of hair she could see and closed her eyes in relief, a few tears squeezing out. She wrapped her arms around his slumbering form and buried her face against his hair, not caring that he smelled like grime and ruin. “It’s alright now, Chu-tan. We’re both alright.” Despite everything, despite the pain she was in, she smiled, warm and real.

#self ship #self shipper #self ship community #self shipping #fictional other #f/o #self ship fic #self insert #dapper writes #gilahara

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insertdisc5 · 6 years ago

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homestuck epilogues stuff

thoughts about the homestuck epilogues, as in, spoilers and theories and things ive noticed by reading it over twice and talking with friend @kravicle while they were reading

this is just a list of theories me and krav came up with ok. also stuff u might not pick up in only one read? we’re just spitballing here

MEAT AND CANDY TEREZI ARE PROBABLY ONE AND THE SAME

> just didnt see proof they weren't the same lmao, we only get john+terezi's messages from both timelines and she could have gotten messages from both meat!john and candy!john

>time is fucked on her end also so (shrugs)

>(terezi meeting meat!john) "something else is different about him. different, somehow, from how she thought he’d be when she imagined they’d next meet. under all the gore, he smells... too fresh."

>TEREZI: HMMM

TEREZI: YOU SM3LL OLD3R

TEREZI: BUT NOT 4S OLD 4S 1 THOUGHT YOUD B3

JOHN: what does that mean?

TEREZI: DONT WORRY 4BOUT 1T

>"In multiple realities, all [John] wanted for her was this. To be home safe, with all their friends. And now that she’s here, she’s lost."

> (meeting Meat!roxy) "Terezi’s head is filled with stories about a different version of Roxy—the polar opposite of the one standing in front of her."

DIRK’S PLAN PART 1 (free will)

>maybe plans to get Actual Free Will thru ultimate godhood??? also explains why he feels okay with removing free will from his friends- for him, this isnt real free will anyway?

>(dirk talking about kanaya) "What WAS she thinking? What are any of us thinking, really? Who’s doing the thinking, and who’s having the thoughts?

The more you study the question, the more it seems all concrete forms of accountability go up in smoke. Her original thoughts were never that important, and the significance of the idea that she was the one authoring them was always a bit overrated. My mission is to someday clear this all up for everyone. Remove the ambiguity, suck the mud out of the water. It’ll be a lot better that way, trust me."

>to old callie, dirk's plan "[john’s] ultimate sacrifice was made to put the missing keystone in place and avert the supreme dissipation of all that shall be considered to hold truth, relevance, and essentiality."

>although narrator callie thinks this world has some sort of actual free will. says "[john should kiss terezi etc]. it’s wrong to contradict one’s true thoughts and feelings. irrational. unbecoming of an existence governed by free will."

>his plan to give everyone/ultimate gods “free will” will end up destroying canon????

DIRK’S PLAN PART 2 (complacency of the learned, ultimate self)

>complacency of the learned, 12 people attaining ultimate knowledge (=ultimate self), and turning "either insane or evil"

> (candy ending, rose’s POV) "The thoughts in her powerful brain race. What will they name the planet? How long will it take for the ship to arrive? Once the new race has established an advanced enough civilization thousands of years from now, who will the lucky kids be? The ones who get the chance to play what will arguably be the most important session in the history of Sburb?"

>finding more people to attain ultimate godhood???

>dirk asks terezi to come with him and rose at the end of meat, along with john's body (implied that she did accept-callie!jade points and dave thinks she points both to dirk+rose and john+terezi, callie doesnt prove him otherwise)

>dirk wants 12 ultimate gods for each aspect????

>"If your perception expands beyond the meat sack of your body, then are you really an individual anymore? Why shouldn’t we become gods? Why shouldn’t we become one God."

- (callie speaking) "[John] is simply being barred from ignoring his true thoughts. even without the aid of a juju, he is fortunate enough to be blessed with the only true form of divinity. to be released from the prison of nonsensical inhibitions which so often psychologically hobble the more primitive forms of life."

>callie is probably an ultimate god, terezi should be?? with rem8mb8r?

DIRK’S NARRATOR STUFF

>dirk probably doesnt know hes in a story/that he has an audience (us) "How can I respect a fucking pronoun when nobody can even hear me?”

>does dirk control people by using you-ness? using 2nd person to control, 3rd person to narrate?

>”JADE: and where there is an identity, there can also be an agenda.”

CANDY TIMELINE STUFF

>part of the black hole, a utopia, place removed from reality/canon in some way??? WEIRDO DREAM BUBBLE????

>cut off from canon in some way- dirk and rose cant get to ultimate godhood anymore, john cant use retcon powers

>candy!john mentions multiple times he doesnt think of him and his friends as "real"

>sky in candy!timeline described as more vibrant (VS pre-sburb being described as muted)

>candy!karkat talking to sollux and probably being foreshadowing without knowing: “KARKAT: I THOUGHT THAT YOU TWO LITERALLY DIDN’T EXIST ANYMORE! KARKAT: OR AT THE VERY LEAST WERE TRAPPED IN A DEAD UNIVERSE PERPETUALLY COLLAPSING INTO ITS OWN ASSHOLE.”

>CALLIOPE: we’re all going to be very, very happy. I trUly believe that. ^u^

>ROSE: Oh Kanaya, you’re right.

ROSE: We are going to be so astonishingly happy!

>ROXY: omg

ROXY: were gonna be SO freakin happy!

>Dirk in Meat: "Cherubs are fuckin’ weird, I’ll totally concede. Still not sure what makes them tick. What they idealize, what they really want. It all comes across to me as a little cloying. Perfection to them is a sweetness beyond comprehension. Sugar so potent it’s poison to us. To our bodies, to our souls. Like the place she was operating from was a realm of self-construction. A bubble of pure, phantasmal confection."

>end of meat!callie can see into candy!timeline ROXY: they stay home all day with the blinds drawn paintin some weird ass shit on the walls

TEREZI: WH4T?

ROXY: its not as bad as it sounds i promise

ROXY: some of it is like

ROXY: weird and violent??

ROXY: like lotsa nasty purple blood and um

ROXY: nudity????

TEREZI: >:?

ROXY: yeah yikes

ROXY: but MOST of it is cute stuff like... various combos of all of us being happy and gettin married and shit

>obama’s here. god i need a minute

>dirk told gamzee something???

“DAVE: wheres dirk

GAMZEE: tHeRe’S nO nEeD tO wOrRy AbOuT hIm. :o)

GAMZEE: YoU’rE gOnNa GeT wHaT’s BeSt FoR yOu. He ToLd Me ThAt, AnD i’M gOnNa MaKe SuRe HiS wIsH mAkEs LiKe A mOtHeRfUcKiNg MiRaClE aNd GeTs TrUe.

[...]

GAMZEE: YoU dOn’T gOt AnY nEeD tO gO aNd CoNcErN yOuRsElF wItH hIs MoRtAl FlEsH bOdY oUt HeRe In ThIs CaNdYcAnE wHiRlPoOl BeYoNd ThE iNfInItE bLaCk WiNk Of ThE wIcKeD sInGuLaRiTy, My NiNjA.

GAMZEE: a SaCk Of MeAt AnD bOnEs In OnE lIfE oR tHe NeXt Is OnLy A mEaNs To ThE fInAl ToTaLiTy ThAt WiLl DaMn AnD rAiSe Us AlL iN bRiLlIaNt ApOtHeOsIs.

GAMZEE: In ThE oNe TrUe LiFe We AlL fLoW fRoM tHe OnE tRuE pEn,

GAMZEE: aNd EvErY hEaD rOlLs DoWn ThE pAtH tO tHe OnE tRuE hAnD.”

> dirk before killing himself: “ It is the very last moment of narratively consequential action that will happen in this whole, barren world. “

OTHER STUFF

> dirk teaching men about "combat, philosophy, life, love." (jake, dave, obama, not said explicitly but also probably gamzee????) what is UP with that

>gamzee also wanting to teach kid tavros about combat philosophy life love, “to behave the way a mentor does”

>re: john “Your complete lack of remarkability, specific motivation, drive, opinion on where to direct your own fate—these deficiencies are exactly what made you so useful, so susceptible to being endowed with the you-ness I’ve borrowed to satisfy my purposes.”

>at the end of meat, callie in jade's body in candy timeline kills lord english and gets big powers or whatever. cherub stuff

>terezi gets a text at the end of Meat, we dont know from whom (candy!(vriska)?)

>john left letters for everyone in Meat but no one’s found them yet?

>snapchats were probably before the split

>this whole post makes both me and krav sound like we’re been talking about this for 24 hours straight (we did)

#homestuck #upd8 #homestuck epilogue #homestuck epilogues #maybe this will help someone whos better at writing down stuff lmao #our brains hurt #DONT @ ME I DONT WANNA THINK ABOUT THE EPILOGUE ANYMORE #but yes i did love the epilogues thank u #this also isnt art im sorry

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littlelostbluejay · 5 years ago

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Dinner In Th Wolf’s Den 3/3

*This is already posted on my wattpad account*

Part: 1 2 3

Oneshot summary: Lucas is on his way home from the club with food on his mind, but it may be something out of the ordinary for Cristi to consider appetizing.

Rating: 18+

**Caution - This chapter has blood and gore themes**

In the still of the night brought the familiar company of darkness, surrounds the bedroom with its murky atmosphere where two souls laid in bed beneath white sheets. But soft touches of illumination slipped inside the quiet domain, their whispers disturbing shadows that creeps in stealth and lurks in the empty corners of the bedchamber as light makes its gentle presence known where it snuck through the window, and squeezes between the tiny shafts of the mini blinds style curtains that was pried open, allows easy access for nightlight to generously grace the room with partial brightness.

Similar to woodland creatures of the night, two glowing eyes peers through the dimly lit area, the reflective tissue that inhibits unearthly orbs casting a vibrant, golden hue that enables him the ability to gaze through the dark space with excellent vision. An elbow props against the mattress so he may sit up in bed on his side, the owner of these peculiar eyes fixating all their focus on the woman who lays in peaceful repose beside him, hair tied up in a satin scarf, her body nestled comfortably under the linen with her back turned in his direction while she slumbers in a fetal position. But his perspective behind her while he somewhat hovers his head over hers gives him the advantage to stare at her profile without distraction, a small chance for the wolf to bask in the beauty of his mate’s graceful features he believes to weld similarities to the moon up above, her lids lulled closed as dreams seize hold of her extraordinary mind, which in time, he aspires to decode.

Lucas woke up thirty minutes ago and done nothing but lie in bed ruffled under the linen, but in the meantime as only silence occupied the space of where they rest, he kept his sole attention on Cristi, her form centered in the apple of his eye while he watched her sleep. This specific manner where he would simply stare was a habit, nevertheless odd and eccentric to observe him in the act, he developed during the time his feelings began manifesting while in the courting stage of their relationship, but within the days he spent his time in her association, this habit of his ‘worsen’ when these sentiments evolved from puppy love into Eros, a Greek word that embodies passionate love among couples seen today. Despite this, Lucas knew if she was to find out he occasionally observes her while she slept, the news would make her uncomfortable and embarrassed - even in the daytime where they’re awake, he pursues this habit often and she always inquires, with a shy disposition incorporated by a sheepish grin, why he stares at her for no apparent reason. But this knowledge was the least of his worries because this behavior was a common attribute distinctive in his lycan culture between wolf mates; a sign of pure love for the other on a mutual foundation, for a mate to stare in appreciation of the very existence of their beloved they’re rewarded to spend the rest of their life with, and it was no different for Lucas whom shares the ancient, genetic code of a lycanthrope dire wolf.

Even if his human (mutant) mate has yet to comprehend his instinctual ways in full, he could not tear his gaze away as he inspects her face, and a smile grew faint upon his full lips while sensitive ears listen to the wind of her steady breathing. Cristi was that beautiful – everything about her… he adores, even more so than his love for the moon.

His head dips closer to her face, mouth opens ajar before his tongue lays against the hill of her cheek for a slow, tender lick across the smooth surface of her skin, and plants his lips in the same area for a small kiss. The affectionate gesture he bestows without her awareness causes her to move slightly, emits a low hum as she stirs in her sleep before limbs cease their movement as she grows still once again. And in secret does Lucas grant her a closed smile that pulls at both corners, bright eyes momentarily darting to a blue collar loosely wrapped around her neck she wore to sleep that night. They both possessed their own exclusive collars they wore like wedding rings; the concept obviously originated from Lucas’s traditions as a way to signify their marriage in his own special fashion…but the suggestive object can, additionally, be utilized for kinky alternatives all the same, as they did earlier before they drifted off to sleep.

A hand rises to wipe down the length of his smooth face while lips break apart to expel a tired sigh, and quietly taking off the white sheet that conceals his body from the open air, his bare feet meets the cool wooden floor as he sits on the edge of the bed, the mattress compressing beneath his weight while Lucas gathers his thoughts for what he plans to do. The same hand goes to remove his black durag that protected his short-styled hair, the lightweight nightcap caught in his grasp before the silky material is aimlessly cast aside onto his nightstand. He reaches for his Samsung Galaxy, activates the device with the push of a thumb, and is propelled to blink, eyelids flickering swiftly from the stark glare of the electronic screen while his eyes adjust to the impetuous, however, anticipated luminosity of his cell phone - across his screensaver in bold letters, the clock reads 4:23 AM. Yeah, there was enough time for him to follow through on his objective he set in advance hours ago without Cristi’s notice. The mere thought of her prompts Lucas to sneak a curious glimpse over his shoulder at his wife and discovers she’s still sound asleep, notes the subtle, fluctuating movement of her body rise and fall as she breathes on a steady pattern while he studies the red lines his claws scratched into the skin of her back throughout their lovemaking. Satisfied with her tranquil state of activity, his nudity is made known when he stands from the bed, and noise remains absent from him while he picks up grey sweat pants off the floor before slipping them on, and the dark melanin skin of his upper body maintains its full exposure for anyone to admire his muscular, athletic build.

Darkness prevails throughout the apartment as Lucas walks silent on his feet that makes a beeline for the bathroom to take a quick piss in the toilet. Once he relieves himself, he exits and heads toward the kitchen, but not before inspecting the quarters of the living room where a hushed calm lay itself like a blanket over the stuffy air their pets inhales as they slept. The sun exists within reflective eyes as they glow in the dark, vision crystal clear absorbs every detail with wicked precision as his gaze roams over the structure of the household furniture, and roll his cares upon the sleeping figures of Bunbun and Butterscotch whom rests in their separate spaces, but he assumes Sapphire was fast asleep because her cage was concealed by a thin sheet. The fact that not a soul was conscious in this unit left Lucas pleased in the way tension recedes from his muscles, shoulders slumping for relaxation, for it denotes less distractions from outside influences while he attends to more ‘beastly’ matters that presently sways his mind in a magnetic pull he can’t escape, calls to him like a beacon perched on a hill he must traverse if he ambitions for a breath of sweet salvation the wolf within desires.

These ideas swirls inside his head as he then enters through the threshold of the kitchen, not bothering to switch on the light but decides to abide under the rulership of darkness who welcomes his nonhuman essence like an old friend, a fellow comrade, as if it knew Lucas was forever affiliated with the cryptic realm where uncanny creatures emerge at the birth of twilight with the moon as their merciful lofty sovereign. The circle, silver trinket attached to his necklace swings against his chest with each leisure step, and briefly notes of the feeble scent of dinner from earlier had lingered itself into the air as he closes in on his target, in which was the solitary purpose of his reawakening – the refrigerator. His left-hand sets against the aluminum surface at the top of the fridge while his other grips the handle, pulls the door open that grants him access to the preserved contents that resides inside the cold storage. Despite knowing what he’s come for, Lucas dillydallies for a moment as he scans the edibles on the top shelves, and stooping low to meet the level of the lowest shelf, he extends a hand within the cold cave to shuffle food out the way before he felt a plastic texture against his fingertips, and hastily drags the crinkled object from the back of the fridge.

Lucas cancels out the light of the refrigerator when he seals the door shut, the plastic bag gripped in one hand while he ventures towards the kitchen sink where he positions the bag onto the countertop, giving his hands freedom so he may busy them with transferring the empty dishwash-pan onto the same marble surface. And the bag crumples at his touch as he digs inside and feels the soft fur of a creature under his palm, and pulls it out, which reveals the corpse of an unlucky possum he killed on his way home before the clock’s arm struck midnight. The sight of the dead body in his hands induces his pupils to twitch, two black holes where a gold ring surrounds them growing bigger on their own accord as they dilate in twisted captivation with the carcass he now hovers over the sink by the scruff of its neck. Not a breath of air passes through the critters lungs as its jaw hung ajar, its black beady eyes opened no longer moist but glazed over with a cloud of grey, and its scrawny limbs dangles in the air, unmoving and deprived of life.

Despite the decomposition stage had already begun hours ago, the body in whole wasn’t in the putrid state of rotting, yet. But even if it was, Lucas was quite capable of consuming rotten flesh without fear of his immune system being defiled by food poisoning that normal humans usually concern their health over, but he preferred to avoid that route nowadays, unless the decision was essential to an important cause – such as starvation.

In anticipation for its fleshly taste, Lucas could only moisten his bottom lip when his tongue ran across the smooth, plump surface with wet saliva that rapidly accumulates in his mouth, and allows his canines to produce a pointy edge as they elongate into sharp fangs. He then adjusts the native marsupial onto its side where both hands now hold it in place above the middle of the sink, and a surge of tingles prickle about his fingernails as they grow a few inches in length and width, their usual pink, human tint tarnished by a pitch-black color as though his nails had been dipped in liquid tar. And other than the return of thick, dark spiral curls that blossoms at a rapid rate atop his head and bottom portion of his face where a beard develops fresh new growth, just along his spine begins the evolution of a tail at the end of the bone vertebrate - the furry appendage sprouts, stretching out beyond the trunk of his body to form a fluffy black tail, the waistband of his sweats hanging low pass his hips to allow the new limb room to grow without constriction of the cotton garment as the tip reaches the back of his calves.

All these physical alterations signal the presence of his inner wolf who has awoken from slumber, a spirit entity like being who wishes to surface and take part in this special occasion of feasting.

Saliva fills the bowl of his mouth the more he stares down at the dead critter with predatory appetite, and he swallows the liquid before licking his lips once again. Without warning, his head falls swiftly while jaws open wide before fangs sink into the soft flesh, features twisting to bare a fearsome snarl in savage hunger as the walls of his throat trembles in the wake of a primitive growl, burying his teeth deeper into the creature as its satin pelt sticks onto his tongue. And his tail moves from side to side behind him as he hums at that rich, metallic taste of blood that leaks over the surface of his taste buds. Lucas releases his jaws from it only to repeat the same motion, his canines piercing through the skin and pulls it between his teeth, peels the furry outer layer of skin and fur from the savory muscle hidden underneath. Pitter-patter of blood drips to splash into the sink below, the marble blemished of its clean earthy tones, now soiled and fouled by crimson red rain that once coursed through the possum’s tiny veins, but now runs its merry way down the drain.

Lucas feeds on everything that enters his jowls as he rips the meat from off the skeleton, feels the raw, mushy flesh get caught in-between his teeth as he chews bite after bite, vocalizing his pleasure at the bloody flavor with audible smacks of his lips and low moans, disturbs the peace of silence in the kitchen as he devours the corpse without a second thought, which includes the organs and the skeletal structure. Blood squirts out its furry white head where an eye bulges out the socket, and the eyeball pops out of its home as his fangs puncture through the small skull that creates a symphony of crackling sounds, and cares were thrown out the window about how he probably appears as a noncivilized man in this moment while he dines alone with no disruptions.

The light switches on.

Lucas immediately gains the ability of an unmovable statue when he freezes on spot – now a deer caught in the headlights as the source of light from the lamp connected to the ceiling chases the darkness away in the room.

“Honey?” Cristi calls out to him softly, leaning her shoulder against the wooden entranceway, curiosity and confusion riddled upon her features in the way a single eyebrow was arched a tad higher than the other, within her mind contemplates her own conclusions as to why she found Lucas in the dark huddled over the kitchen sink before she turned on the light. Gentle brown hues make contact with his bared muscular back as he stood with his back to her, and to her mute surprise as she scrutinizes his image as whole, she notices his wolf tail was out and about, a trail of black fur leading from the base to up his spinal column. The rarity of this particular joint that interlinks him to the supernatural world of monstrous beasts never fails to draw her attention to it, and she couldn’t help but wonder why he wore the extra fluffy vertebrate now; he rarely flaunts his tail off in front of her or any other canine alteration of his body, but here way past midnight she walked in on him where he models in a fraction of his wolf pelt with her as his audience - something about the notion didn’t sit right with her.

Cristi doesn’t garner a response from Lucas, instead, his jaw unlatches its stiff hold on the half-eaten corpse, watches the body drop into the bowl of the sink with a wet thud in its own supply of blood, not certain on how to enunciate a solid answer as he positions both hands on the counters edge, and doesn’t dare to turn around to look at her. Her voice was as soft as it ever was, but it couldn’t compete with the sound of his heart that threatens to break through the cage of his ribs where it pounds with much ferocity against his chest, for the fierce beating was all his ears could hear as her tone was drowned out amidst the sea of worrisome thoughts that clashes in his mind.

“Lucas?”

But at the sound of his name that fell from her lips does Lucas finally mutter a response. “Yea?” But the pitch of his voice utters low on the spectrum, just barely able to reach her ears.

A tiny crinkle emerges on her forehead as her lower brow rises to align with the other in concern, and she takes a step forward as worry rushes through her stature, propels her stomach to execute a performance of flips and twists in agitation by this odd behavior he presents in her attendance. Temptation dangles curiosity like bait on a hook she couldn’t ignore, and by use of mental capabilities where empathy plays a role in her perceptual discernment of another’s emotions, Cristi finds herself inclined to experience a small dose of his sentiment without his knowledge. “What, um..” She begins, nevertheless, pauses when she felt his emotional energy roll off his back, crashing over her aura like a wave, and on her radar detects fear as the most dominate emotion that binds his mind down in chains of dreadful apprehension. This piece of information quietly baffles her, but Cristi continues on as though she hadn’t poked her conscious into his mental state, instead, would rather want him to confess in his own words what troubles him so. “What are you up to?”

Lucas swipes his tongue over his full lips for a quick lick, tastes the slimy remainder of the possum in its delicious blood that had coated his lips, and proceeds to wipe his mouth with the back of his hand as if to rid the evidence of a crime he committed, but the red fluid only spreads even more across his face. “I was…uh…jus eatin’ somethin’…” Confidence was absent in his breath, and for once, he sounded small, unsure, as if her personal traits had transmitted onto him like a disease. Lucas lacked the power of accurate prediction of future events, but he knew this scenario he’s now suffering through would eventually arrive, just the time of when it was to occur was unknown to him, and he didn’t plan a solid explanation in advance for this case – he was never one to make many plans unless it was essential, his attitude was wired to think and act in the moment, which he now struggles to execute in this awkward position.

Her teeth peeks through her slightly parted lips, the crease between her brows growing more pronounced as her feet nears him; something about his demeanor greatly troubled her, and in her soul, fear takes root from the seed of suspense Lucas involuntarily planted into her heart, the same seed that already sprouted through his veins and choked out the blood which carries oxygen he needed for self-composure under stress. Cristi wasn’t accustomed to him acting this way, not her alpha who was the embodiment of self-confidence, strength, and optimism. No, not her husband. “Lucas, what’s wrong?” Heartfelt worry imbeds itself in her question when she stands next to him, feels the warmth of his skin as she rests a slow hand upon the center of his back, then blinks in dismay at the small flinch he gave beneath her palm that was only meant to share comfort, and notices he kept his face away from her sight as he shifts his head to the other side. “Is there so-” She tries again before words halt in their tracks when she caught something out of place in her peripheral vision.

In visible shock, Cristi gasps as her eyes flew wide open where they lock on a dead animal in the sink, white fur caked in blood while its body was mutilated beyond measure with its internal organs spilling out onto the wet surface, contaminating the air in a foul stench she now breathes into her lungs. “OH MY GOD!” She shrieks, her hand quickly separating from his back to pull her own hands near her chest in utter alarm, and Lucas could swear he felt his heart shatter into pieces as he sighs in shame. “Luke wha-what is that?!” She asks, her voice cracking as she tries to wrap her mind around this sudden predicament she walked into out of the blue. Its brain lay in plain sight through a hole where the skull was split open with its jaw broken out of alignment. As creative as she was an artist, Cristi could barely recognize the creature, her mind was incapable of piecing back the body parts that were misplaced or broken within her imaginative wanderings; she didn’t know what it was or what it used to be, but she depicts it to be an empty shell where a soul used to reside in. The mere sight of the creature was awfully gruesome in appearance to look at, and her lids force themselves shut as if to erase the image out of her head, her fingers hooking onto the collar she wore about her neck for the sake of holding onto something as she backed away from the sink, at the same time, creates distance between herself and Lucas.

But without looking he senses her withdrawal from him, and on impulse he finally swivels his body around to cast his regard onto her, placing his palms on the counter edge behind him where his fingers drape over the curve, trapping her eyes in his dark soul snatchers when she met his gaze. Of course, she looked beautiful in only a big old t-shirt that used to be his. “A Possum, it was a po-possum…” His words hurried between full lips that carries a jittery stutter, and his tongue protrudes out to lick over the plump mounds again, as if he couldn’t get enough of the metallic taste he been craving since early in the night. But the way his wife doesn’t utter a word, communicates the rest of her reaction by brown orbs that stares wide in definite stupefaction towards his person, made the whole prospect of a raw piece of meat that once seemed appealing, was a risk not worth taking anymore. “…Or wha’s left of a possum, anyway…” His add on breathes in a somber mumble as his eyes falls to the floor.

It seemed as if a reckless hand smeared scarlet paint in a sloppy fashion across the lower portion of his face, unclean splotches of blood painted over his dark skin from the bridge of his nose to the facial hairs of his jawline. “Was you -” she found it difficult to form the sentence that alluded the obvious of what he was doing with the corpse “- eating it like that?”

Lucas hides his eyes from her as he grants a stiff nod of his head, unable to meet her lovely browns while he sticks his gaze upon the ground with his chin tucked against his collar-bone, and senses something doleful swamp him where gloom enshrouds a cloud around his spirit, correlates to the embarrassment that drapes like a veil over his face, becomes flustered as a blaze of heat scorches his cheeks. “I, um, I-I couldn’t help myself; I was hungry for…it…I-I picked it up on the way home earlier. I um-” A jumble of words usher forth out his mouth as he attempts to justify the reason for his actions. Cristi caught him in the middle of the foulest form of eating as far as human consumption was concerned; no doubt she must believe the concept of her husband consuming dead remains of an unclean animal to be disgusting, and Lucas anticipates he’ll be judged by his bestial conduct. Regardless of the reality that he was technically a beast, shares traits of a wild animal whose bad reputation persist to influence how humans treat wolves till this day, Lucas tries to avoid allowing her to see him as nothing of the sort, but as a sophisticated gentleman with class and finesse.

She only wrinkles her nose at the unpleasant smell of the corpse that diffuses into the atmosphere where tension suffocates the space they stood in, and she wasn’t sure what to make of everything that transpired as she offers an inquisitive ear to listen to his account. This event delivered a heavy message that reminded her how dangerous Lucas really is; he held the power and capability to do what he wanted if his character veered to wicked tendencies. He could literally murder her in her sleep if he desired, pierce the jugular vein in her neck till blood gushed out before she slipped off into eternal rest. At the thought, a shaky shiver spills cold ice down the length of her spine, and tries to shake the grim image of herself out of her head. Lucas did kill a soul for her once upon a time and began eating their body, after all, but he told her once he wasn’t a man-eater, she believed him, but what-ifs still skipped around in her mind from time to time.

But as she perceives the way he purposely avoids the scrutiny of her eyes, recognizes the familiar touches of insecurity she often succumbs to he now displays in her view, tail tucked between his legs, she knew deep down he’d never intend harm upon her. However, she required clarity from his own mouth.

Her silence was uncomfortable, and it invokes his thick brows to jump as he peeks an eye at her, the suspension weighing heavy on his shoulders as anxiety overwhelms him, compels him to break the silence as he lifts his head. “Look Cristi,” he clears his throat, and feels a ache along the walls when he swallows a dose of thick dry air, “I, uh , I have certain needs tha’ its hard to control sometimes. I’m a dire wolf…y’see…and I-I like to eat raw meat an taste the blood from it.” He confesses. “Now, I know it sounds revoltin’ but-but baybeh I only eat animals – I mean, I would never do anythin’ ta hurt Sapphire or Bunbun or you or-” He proceeds to ramble on with excuses and vindicate his reasons nonstop.

This behavior was unlike him, and to witness it unfold arouses anguish to settle in her heart from the emotional energy he gives off. “Shhh baby shhhh…” Her shushes blew gently against his frantic mouth that clamps close at the mere sound of her utterance, indeed, calms Lucas enough to shut up almost instantly; he honestly had no idea what to expect of her, and feared what she’d present as a response to this habit he hid in secret until now. “Lucas, what do you think I feel about you now? Exactly?” The inquiry was simple, expresses a genuine yearning to explore his thoughts and state of mind, a chance to verify what he conceives to be authentic of how she considers him.

Lucas blinks once, twice, and as if ashamed, returns his gaze to the ground with a sideway turn of his head, contemplating over her question. Thick lips issue a low sigh before truthful words fall through. “Disgusting…and undesirable…heh,” he admits as a small smile surfaces, one forlorn and bittersweet as he shook his head with a close of his eyes, “I wouldn’t blame ya one bit.” His declaration reveals insecurities of what she thinks of his true nature, fear of being judged for his wolfish instincts. Lucas endeavored to maintain a certain image of himself he wanted Cristi to see, but it seemed as if the persona he built from scratch, all the work and effort he applied overtime to blend in with humankind had cracked through the glass, and she finally peers through the fractured mirror to find a wolf who coexists on the other side of his subconscious.

This may be the first time Cristi realizes how sensitive Lucas was about his identity when it came to her opinion about him, how she feels about him as a whole, and she felt hurt to think he held the conviction that she thinks him as repugnant, unwanted in her view. “Lucas, why do you say that?”

His oynx eyes snaps back to hers, etched across his features exhibits confusion by brows that knit together where a hard line stands out between them, imprints touches of distress as he gripped the edge of the counter. “Chris, tell me right now if this bothers you or not!” The sudden tone of his voice causes her to jump in surprise, visibly startled as fear shot through her by its intensity as it rose an octave, and watches how his sharp fangs glistens in the light between every word. “Do me eatin’ or-or acting like a wild animal in this human skin repel you from me?!” He motions a hand to land against his chest for emphasis, tail flicking behind him that hints emotional strife within himself. But after he notices the drastic change in her expression had morphed to fright when he shouted, guilt swarms him all over; Lucas never raised his voice at her, he hadn’t intended to sound loud and harsh, but it presented that way out of his own internal conflict. “Hey, baybeh I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…” He stops and looks away before closing his eyes, thinking he’ll make the situation worst. “Do you still want me?” He blurts out.

Cristi was in disbelief of that last sentence. And although Lucas scared her for a moment, Cristi acknowledges he was undergoing a battle in his mind she couldn’t observe, his demeanor was off kilter, unrecognizable, and she knew she had to take control, for the first time be the one who pulls him out of this melancholic funk he’s trapped in, much like the many times he’s rescued her out of her own misery. “Baby…” She hurries over to him on quick feet, stands infront of him and lifts a hand close to his face, but he notices and veers his head aside before she could touch him. And peers down his nose at her with a dead intimidating stare, though in his eyes was where a great degree of sadness made a dwelling place. Her lips press together before she pleads. “Lucas, please…” She squeaks softly, and once more tries to lay her hand upon him, but to her relief, he allows her palm to cup his cheek, despite the wet blood on his face. His breathing steadies itself as the physical contact between them relaxes him, and as if comforted by her touch, his eyes fall shut as he leans his face into the warmth of her small hand, brushes her thumb across his cheekbone while he emits a low ‘puppy’ whine.

For a moment, the atmosphere shifted to a comfortable silence as she watches him, marveled as he rubs his cheek up and down into her palm, stiff hairs that lined his strong jawline grazing against her skin gently. Lucas might have been a wolfman, but she loved him the way he was. “Do you remember what you said about me last night?”

A single eye opens slowly, gazes half lid to peek down at his little Cristi. “Wha’ I said?”

“Mhmm.” She then rubs his cheek, her other hand taking his larger one in her own for her fingers to wrap around his, and his own digits mimics the action. “You said I was crazy for getting with a wild man like you, remember?”

He felt his heart leap into his throat while he stared at her as he sorts through the bed of memories of yesterday. Lucas could barely recall the comment he spoke during his banter, but it sounded familiar. “A little…but-”

“No no listen to me, Luke …okay sweetie?” The way she cuts him off was mild and subdue like a lamb’s placid bleat, how could he not listen and permit her authority over this dilemma he’s stuck in. “I know you was joking when told me it, but you said I was crazy, but it also made you feel special that I chose you, a wolf man, over a human, remember?” She watches him blink as the memory comes back to him. “And you know what? It’s true, maybe I am crazy for choosing a different species other than my own, different race, different ethnicity and so on and so forth. B-but the thing is when you truly love someone, you love them for who they are inside and out, not the idea or potential of what they could be, okay?” She gave his hand a small, comforting squeeze. “I know you have a particular image that you built up for yourself that you show off to the world every day, but that image is real and part of who you are as an individual, just like you as wolf is who you are too.”

Her visage reflects in the depths of his black iris’s, his features bordering on the look of pensive as her words sink in while he listens. He sighs as his free hand lifts to wrap around her wrist, the same limb where she holds his face in her palm. “Y-yer not ashamed of being with me?” He speaks lowly in that deep, husky tone, gets her weak in the knees every time.

Her head shakes in response. “No, Luke, I’m not ashamed of you. You need to understand that I signed up for this relationship knowing full well that part of the package came with carnivorous instincts and wolfish mannerisms from you. I expected that, it doesn’t make me think any less of you or turn me off, even if some stuff you do is kinda odd and funny.” The twitch at her lips couldn’t be suppressed as she broke into a small grin, it was contagious that even Lucas replicates her facial gesture. “But…this is your home…I don’t want you to feel like you can’t be yourself around me in your own house, and if you say it’s because you don’t want to make me uncomfortable, how else am I going to get used to certain things you do if you’re afraid of exposing me to them?”

“Like eatin’ carcasses raw?” He elaborates on the main topic she left out of her speech, and doesn’t sugarcoat the question that blatantly leaves his mouth in regards to it. “That…doesn’t make you nauseous?”

Her eyes ran away to the side to think, top teeth nipping at her bottom lip as she chews over his query, and resolves that this situation was too delicate, fragile because it involves his sense of identity, should falsehood enter the equation it’ll only leave a bitter outcome on their relationship. Lucas deserves her sincerity. “It did surprise me, yeah, and I felt a little…queasy when I found out you was eating it like that.” Although she tries to lessen the blow, Lucas’s heart sunk at her own confession, and again shifts his head to escape her gaze, but she catches on and pushes his face back in place to lock his eyes with hers. “But things like that, I kinda expected that of you too, and I would never ask you to change your ways for me…if I did that would only mean I didn’t really love you or accepted you for who you are. And it’s not like you’re doing anything wrong.” She adds. “I mean…Luke, you’re not human, you’re a dire wolf, it’s okay to act like one around me, you already act human enough everyday and I prefer you to be yourself…but it’s like you don’t want me to know the real you….”

His eyes widen at this piece of information she shares out of generosity, to think all this time she actually wanted to know ‘him’, while he’s been afraid of revealing all of himself. “But I-I do baybeh! I jus feel like….you won’t like wha’ ya see…li-like-”

“You can’t assume what I may or not like, and if I don’t, I’ll just need to get used to it and accept it, okay?” She draws her hand away from his cheek to motion behind him towards the corpse that lays in the sink. “You can eat animals, dead or alive…I don’t care, baby. You can do whatever you want here…you can grow a tail, grow paws, grow wolf ears, just grow big all over if this apartment will let you fit in it. I don’t mind seeing what you keep under your human skin, just please don’t hide yourself from me….” Granted, his wolf mask usually emerged partially through incomplete physical changes of his body during intense moments of sexual intercourse - also anger - because he lacked self-control over himself, but outside of those fleshy scenarios, he concealed these external beastly features from her view in everyday life. Cristi has only ever managed to witness his entire metamorphosis process three times since she’s known him, but even though he stands before her with partial features with that of a wolf, she appreciated this rare moment he gave her to be able to examine his canine characteristics in the light.

Lucas’s ears soak up her words like a sponge, hears nothing but utter truth as he discerns the conviction laced between each word she speaks, deems her disclosure respecting his wolf nature to blossom from favorable, genuine personal beliefs, and feels a sense of remorse take residence in his heart that he lacked faith in her love to accept him for what he was deep down, that being a wolf, born and bred in the wild. He brings a finger to gently touch her face, listens to the sharp intake of air she breathes when he presses the back of a dark claw beside the corner of her eye, and tenderly strokes down over the small hill of her cheek, stopping once he reaches the underside of her jaw. Words unsaid, nor needed where love was expressed in a simple, affectionate gesture. “…I know tha’ sometimes you fear me, Cristi.” He switches the subject with a perceptive speculation that been hovering in his head for awhile, and gauges her expression that spoke her surprise before she looks away. “I’ve seen it in yer eyes and I felt it… is this true?”

Although Cristi doesn’t want to admit this particular truth, thick lips press together forms a fine line as she nods in agreement, and her voice drops the volume to resemble a low squeak, as if she wanted her answer to be indiscernible to his highly sensitive ears. “Yes…sometimes.”

Her timid response prompts the hard wrinkle between his eyebrows to abate its strain, alleviates the tension around his deep-set eyes as they soften with an expression that connotes compassion for her plight he involuntarily creates. “Love, I don’ mean to…but as a beast…I’ll admit that I like ta see fear in someone that I can cause.” He watches her blink up at him, puzzled at this insight he imparted onto her, and he figures she didn’t expect him to say this. “I like when I sense the fear of prey when I’m chasing it down at the end of its life…and I get tha’ same pleasurable feelin’ when I see it in anyone else, including you, but I don’t want you to be afraid of me enough that you don’t love me and fear what I could do to you. But believe me when I say I’m quite capable of doing many dangerous things, but you need to know that I’ll never put you in danger.” His large hand nearly engulfs the side of her face when he cups her cheek, wishing to pull her closer but knew if he embraced her he’d get blood on her shirt. “It’s true that unfortunate things always happen to people who play with wolves or wild beasts, but I’ll never do anythin’ ta hurt you…I am collared to you, Cristi, ya got a leash latched onto my heart that keeps me bound to you baybeh….wha’ sense does it make for me ta hurt the only one I love who I want to spend the rest of my life with? The only one who I want to carry my pups in their womb? Even if I probably weren’t the last of my species, no one would be a better suitor than you to help me carry on my legacy, no, our legacy.”

As Cristi digests his words one by one, she had yet to realize her mouth hung open as she stares up at him, taken aback by the new insight he shares with her, that even he states and acknowledges the hazardous gamble she was playing by staying with a man like him. But to be rest assured that he never intends to bring affliction onto her life eased her mind, lays those murderous daydreams of him to rest. “I know you won’t hurt me…Lucas…”

“Yea, and don’t ever think I would, ya hear me?” Lucas sighs as his eyes fall shut with a shake of his head. “I know that part of this fear you have of me is because of what happened last year, but the only reason I killed that woman was because she was out for yer blood. I only followed the laws of nature by takin’ her life when she was trying ta take yours; like a mother wolf would protect her cubs from a predator out ta eat them, I did what I had to do. A scenario like that is the only exception where I’ll intentionally spill someone’s blood, especially for yer sake. This is the wolf way that I swear by this oath…I will protect you with my life as a mate should do.”

Cristi nods, however, the mention of that wicked broad brought tragic memories to surface she sought to neglect, and couldn’t help but feel a little scared by what he expressed; they rarely discussed that unfortunate incident that took place months ago where it ended in bloodshed as the final result. She wasn’t too fond of anyone getting killed, but she felt a sense of security he gave, safety in his care and love despite the fear he inspires in her gut every once in a while, knowing he’ll protect her from harm. “I understand.”

“Good.” His tongue licks at his bottom lip while the pupils of his eyes zoom in on the voluptuous shape of her mouth, his black tail swinging back and forth as he feels an irresistible urge to see how her lips feels against his own. “I love you soo much, Cristi…”

The weight of those three words brings forth wings of the trapped bird she once embodied to flutter about in her stomach, and her hands rose for fingers to touch and splay against the hard, symmetrical muscle of chest, feels her fiddle with his necklace and few strands of hair in the middle of his pectorals as her gaze flit to where her hands distinguishes the slow beat of his heart underneath her palm. “And I love you… but please,” she voices the mutual sentiment before her earthy browns flicker skyward to peer at him, “remember what I said.”

“Believe me, I will…” He put on a dashing smirk. This conversation was honest and brought out past insecurities Lucas never brought to the light, but to addressed them with his mate, at first with reluctance, felt as if a burden had been lifted off his spirit, and for once, he concluded he could truly be himself in her presence, and he felt his heart expand with fresh newfound love that grew for her, especially in the way his tail presently wags with glee without his notice. Lucas wakes up every single day where he dresses up like a man, a wolf who pretends to be a man in the face of humans, but with Cristi, he didn’t have to play make-believe under her observant eye. How could he be soo lucky? Lucas possessed the qualities of a leader, a true alpha wolf whom practically demands authority and respect in any space he steps into, but he wasn’t that much different from his humble little doe; he was sensitive, an old soul who needed her utmost care and looks of admiration, her approval, and required just as much reassurance of her love as she does for him.

Before he could think over his actions, the space between them closes as he leans his head down to kiss her on impulse, but he’s not given the chance to taste her flavor he knows soo well when she blocks his face with her hand, his puckered lips kissing the soft skin of her palm instead. “Whoa whoa, Luke, wait a minute.” She said as she backs a foot or so away.

His dark brows furrows in concern. “What’s wrong?” He asks innocently with the appearance of his famous puppy dog eyes, confused as to why she flat-out rejected his loveful advance. Cristi looks at him with an amused grin, reckon that the blood smeared across his face that belongs to the dead possum had totally slipped his mind, and how he must have overlooked that the freshness of his breath had lost its attractive appeal once he began consuming the squishy red meat between his teeth ten minutes before.

“Sweetheart, you was just eating that thing.” Cristi laughs as she points a finger behind him, and Lucas follows its aim where he’s directed towards the dead body that still occupies the bottom of the sink. Dry air passes through his nostrils by means of an audible snort, finds humor at her unspoken implication about his hygiene as his deep chortles joins in her giggle fest, in a human sense, he apprehends that his smell was less than savory at the moment. Her smile was small, but in some way lifts high to reach the peak of her eyes, similar to how the sun slowly climbs up to the top of a hill at the break of dawn, and with a graceful gait she approaches him on quiet feet as her smile maintains its placid luster. “Finish it, clean up and brush your teeth, then we’ll see if you earn a kiss from these lips.” Within her voice lurks provocative undertones as she makes direct eye contact with him, her hand descending below his adonis belt, and his eyelids level into a squint as he feels her fingers teasingly trace the distinct outline of his thick dick print that hangs snug against the thin cotton material of his pants leg. “Sounds good, papa wolf?” Her head tilts to the side, tip of her finger grazes his bulbous head, and observes the way his bottom lip pull between his teeth, seductively bends the ample flesh under pressure for a gentle bite. When in the mood, Cristi could be as much of a tease as he.

His tongue pokes out to lick the corner of his lip before he responds. “I think papa wolf would like that mama, maybe more than tha’ if she tryin’ ta start somethin’, y’know?” His face slips on a slick smirk, and takes a step forward while she moves backward, drawing her hand back to its place at her side. “But ya bettah skedaddle on outta here before I pounce on ya!” His arms rose as he playfully lunges at her to scare her off, causing a squeal out of her before she rushes out the kitchen. Lucas laughs as he hears the quick pad of her feet scampering against the floor grow distant into another room, which gives him private time to finish off the remains of his meal.

A warm sigh breezes between the small gap of parted lips, that unmistakable burden of fatigue heavy as its pressure sits on her chest before spreading its load throughout her body, and her limbs loses their functions of movement as sleep slowly creeps upon her consciousness. She lays on her side underneath the warmth of the blanket, all cozied up in bed with her cheek pressed into the satin fabric of a plushy pillow, the surface of her face clear of any blood stains, newly cleansed and purified of defilement after Cristi washed off the sticky crimson bodily fluid that Lucas clung to her skin during their private conversation awhile ago. Their little heart-to-heart exchange tackled a few personal issues she wasn’t formerly aware of, but it was much needed to be alert of Lucas’s insecurities – to know he also suffered at the hands of his own inner demons he keeps out of reach for her to see.

Her eyes break open a tad when the mattress shifts on the opposite side of the bed, lets her know Lucas had carried through with his business where she abandoned him in the kitchen to indulge in his bestial appetites. He climbs onto the bedframe to join her, and once he settles, she feels the heavy weight of his arm loop around her small waist, the muscle of his bicep forming a solid bump as he pulls her against his body from behind. The physical contiguity of his touch sparks a surge of energy to flow into her, and before he’s given the chance to officially spoon her smaller frame, Cristi switches her position in his hold as she turns around to face him, meets the mystifying yellow gleam ensnared in the circle of his iris’s, and he stares back at her from beneath hooded eyes that holds a subtle cloud of weariness. And she notices the growth of his facial hair was still dispersed across his features while his durag conceals the rest atop his head. He looked clean, groomed, and finally tuckered out of all his energy. “How was your meal?” The darkness becomes broken by the light of her small whisper.

“Mmmm, it was good an tasty. You should try it out.” His breath held a mixture of heat and coolness while he speaks, smells brisk with a minty fresh fragrance as his inner essence spans across her face, but his suggestion immediately earns him an odd look from her, and Lucas realizes his mistake before he backtracks his comment with a chuckle thrown in the mix. “I mean you should try it cooked. I’ve prepared Possum over a fire before so ya can trust me, y’know my cookin’ skills are lit, baybeh. I could open a restaurant if that’s what I was all about.”

Cristi suppresses the itch to roll her eyes, honestly amused at his proposition. It’s not that she didn’t have faith in his culinary skills because they were actually quite top notch, but the idea of eating a possum or any critter that spends its life foraging through spoiled garbage, period, wasn’t an acquired taste she’d choose in her book as a fine cuisine. No offense to her husband, of course. “Riiight, we’ll see.” She says before she gently pushes him onto his back so she may get on top of him, straddling his hips between her thick thighs.

“Yeah, tha’s right, bae.” The pearly whites of his teeth complement the grin his lips curl up in display as he gazes up into her brown orbs, then his eyes flickers down to stare at the blue leather band that loosely fits around her neck. And a hand reaches for it to pinch the name tag that came with the collar, feels the polished copper metal against the pad of his thumb as he brushes over the name of his wife that was engraved into chill alloy, then his index finger hooks around the collar and pulls on it, thus, her hands perches on his chest as he draws her face down to where his head lays on a pillow while he continues on with his banter. “I’ll call it some shit like: Wolf & Doe. We’ll be cooking in the kitchen together, argue about how long the baked chicken is supposed to stay in the oven before you get fed up with my bullshit then throw some flower in my face. We eventually start a massive food fight, as cliché as that sounds.”

Cristi giggles before she pecks his lips once she’s close enough. “You’re soo dumb. We’ll be out of the job in less than a week.”

“Ya won’ be sayin alla tha’ once I start lickin the spaghetti sauce off of you that I splattered you with.” Lucas speaks against her mouth, smiling into her kiss as his lips connects with hers once again. And with his lips sealed over her mouth as both delectably squish together in careful motion, every low moan that travels up his throat she swallows up like water, her hands cradling both sides of his face in a thoughtful hold while the muffled sounds that constitute to his delight in their shared kiss strokes her ears. His lips separate once she took his bottom lip in between her teeth for a gentle pull, the sensation sending tendrils of tingles to glide across his dark russet skin, the effect increases its intensity once she begins sucking on the plump, juicy flesh of his mouth piece. Lucas places his hands on her hips where dark claws still remain at the tip of his fingers, and one palm maneuvers around the full shape of her backside to rub against her butt cheek. “Where would I be without you, Chris?”

Although the question hidden in his murmur was spoken aloud, it was directed moreso to himself than her. Where would he be? Actually? Possibly alone without a mate to come home to as a definite answer, nobody who accepts him and his wolf nature thru and thru. But not caring too think much about any alternate possibilities, he shoves the thought to the back of his mind before it could leave a painful ache in his heart, to think ‘what if’ they never crossed paths in the park during those early days, a peaceful period full of shy glances abound in awaiting text messages, phone calls where two hearts palpitate at the sound of the other’s voice on the other line.

Those days were just amazing, found pure bliss at the impact where Lucas first experienced the power of gravity when he fell in love from cloud nine.

Her eyes close as his pink tongue ran a wet path over her eyelids while he applies a few lovesome licks to her face, their kisses eventually coming to an end as she sets all her weight on top his long stature, her face pushed into the crook of his neck to offer a quick peck before she lies her head on his chest. She feels tickled by his sharp nails that lightly grazes her back as they relax in bed, waits for sleep to envelop them.

Lucas suddenly breaks the quiet as he asks her a question from their late night discussion. “Aye, y’know what else I can make grow bigger?”

“What?”

There was a short pause. “…my dick.”

“Lucas go to sleep.”

#werewolf #wolf man #monster romance #werewolf story #poc #black tumblr #exophilia #tetrophilia #;;main verse;;#;;lucas x cristi interactions;;#| Lucas x Cristi oneshots |#black love #| the howl of the wolf teaches the blue jay how to sing again | lucas x cristi |#luke james

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soulofatiny · 6 years ago

Text

No fear, I’m here… Extra: taunting constellations

backstory edition: wooyoung

warning(s): cursing, mentions of blood, gore, angst angst angst

word count: 5.3k

a|n: please read after ch. 6 to avoid any possible spoilers!! happy reading, loves💕

masterlist

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— 2011 —

“You piece of shit! Get back down here!!”

Wooyoung climbed the ladder hastily, hearing the metal clang and feeling the cool sensation on his hands as he ascended up to his safe haven- well close to one anyway. Once he reached the top, he swung his body over the black metal bars of the balcony that matched with the ladders. He took one last look down and smirked to himself when he saw the culprits of the piercing screams of threats that were a lot fainter in volume due to the distance. No one would have dared to climb the run-down ladder that could’ve fallen apart any time by now, except for Wooyoung. He didn’t care.

“You motherf*ckin’ coward!!”

Wooyoung frowned at the stifled insult coming from his tormentors.

He wasn’t a coward… they were.

“Piss off, bastards.”

He murmured his final comment at his bullies and turned to open the window of the shabby apartment complex that connected with his bedroom. It was technically an attic, but that was where Wooyoung resided based on the decision of two drunkards that were called his foster parents, who, unfortunately, had power over his life. The window slammed shut the moment he fully entered his slightly dusty room, which he always cleaned but something about attics made the dust collect easily. He whipped his backpack off and let his body fall back and direct slam against his bed, feeling the springs of the mattress press his back slightly as it creaked with old age. The insults of his bullies echoed in his mind. It wasn’t anything new, the verbal abuse. Sometimes even physical if he didn’t run fast enough away from them after school ended. Wooyoung closed his eyes, hoping that he would have a temporary escape from life but as soon as he felt himself drift into sleep, harsh yelling and shouts echoed from below the floor jolted him awake. But once he realized that it was just his foster parents arguing, he sighed and laid his body back to sleep.

It wasn’t anything new in Wooyoung’s life. Being bullied five out of seven days and hearing screams of colorful language from his foster “family” 24/7.

It wasn’t anything new and he was used to it.

This was his life.

A typical way that twelve-year-olds lived. Wake up, eat leftovers from his foster parents, school, bully encounters, escape, go home, hearing shouts of arguments, maybe eat leftovers, sleep, and repeat.

He continued living throughout his unproductive life until one storming Saturday night.

Wooyoung jolted awake at the clanging of his balcony, taking notice on how it was much too loud for it to just be raindrops hitting the metal. He gazed out the window, squinting his eyes to focus on his sight more in the dark and waited to see if he’ll hear it again. As a bolt of lightning struck, the flash of light exposed a silhouette of a figure that was leaning against the side of his window from the outside. Wooyoung reached for the baseball bat on his bedside immediately and ran to his window to meet his perpetrator. He yanked the window open, allowing the gush of wind mixed with icy raindrops to sneak into his room and seep into his shirt. His eyes slowly began adjusting to the dark night sky that inhibited his vision.

“Who the hell are you?!” Wooyoung yelled, preparing himself to swing at the unwanted stranger.

When he was met with silence, he swung the bat but the stranger merely grabbed the tip of the bat and voiced his wish, “I’ll stay out here. Just...let me stay here for the night and I’ll leave–”

Wooyoung was surprised to hear the stranger speak up, his voice was youthful and was tinged with pain. Wooyoung let his grip on the bat loose and hurriedly switched his lights on. His eyes grew round at the sight before him. A boy who looked around his age was grasping his arm desperately, trying to stop the flow of blood that was pouring out from his arm.

Blood.

“O-Oh my god! b-b...blo–”

“Yes. It's blood. Now shut the window and let me go to sleep.”

Wooyoung stared at him in disbelief. Did he seriously ask him to leave so he could sleep? Out in this storm? Not only that but judging by the paleness of his complexion, he must’ve lost a lot of blood already. That guy would be crazy to expect that he would still be alive to leave or even see another day tomorrow.

“Hurry up and close the window-” the boy uttered, voice slightly annoyed.

Wooyoung ignored his wishes and instead, grasped the stranger’s uninjured arm to swing it around his own shoulders for support.

“What are you doing?”

“I just don’t want to see a dead person outside my window when I wake up the next day…”

The boy remained silent for a moment until he finally asked, “What’s your name?”

“Wooyoung. What’s yours?”

“W-…San. My name is San.”

Wooyoung nodded as he gently sat San down on the wooden floor, “I’ll be right back. You’re probably going to need stitches.”

When Wooyoung came back, he disinfected San’s arm and began stitching the deep wound.

“How do you even know how to do this? Aren’t eleven-year-olds suppose to play video games or something?” San said as he examined Wooyoung’s swift work.

“I’m twelve- actually, no. I’m thirteen. Not eleven.”

San looked at him questioningly, “Sounds like you’re not even sure how old you are.”

Wooyoung worked on the final touches, snipped the remaining thread off, and looked at San, “I’m thirteen. I just forgot today was my birthday.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“Happy Birthday.”

“Thanks.”

“No, thank you...for saving me.”

— 2 years later —

Shortly after he and San met nearly two years ago, San tried to persuade Wooyoung to leave his current dwelling, saying that it wasn’t good enough for a good person like Wooyoung. He kept getting abused by not only his bullies, but his foster parents as well and it was getting physically and mentally draining for him. But what truly convinced him to leave was when Wooyoung got beat so badly that he could hardly move his body. San was treating his injuries this time, roles reversed since the first time they met and spoke the words, “They are not your family. I will be your family instead. Your real family.”

And that was exactly what finalized his decision.

As soon as Wooyoung healed enough to the point where he could move his body again, he left without ever looking back.

Ever since Wooyoung cut ties with his foster parents, San taught him everything he knew about combat. It turns out that Wooyoung was extremely gifted at aiming. Whereas, San’s preferred area was blades. Although Wooyoung was clearly skilled, he’s never used it upon a person, mainly carrying the gun to scare people off. He purposefully fires and aim only centimeters away from their heads to threaten them, but never kill. Wooyoung wasn’t actually sure how San knew so much about combat or weaponry for a teenage boy but he didn’t question it. San gave off an aura that was almost threatening if he mentioned even the slightest regarding his past whereabouts. The only thing Wooyoung knew about San’s past was that he didn’t grow up under normal circumstances and on the storming night when they first met, San briefly mentioned someone named Nana who had saved him. Which was why San was able to make it to Wooyoung’s window that night and he was genuinely content with knowing just that because he gained someone to call family in return.

“Look what I’ve found,” San threw a fairly large bag on top of the table, letting stacks of cash slip out of its opening.

Wooyoung smirked at the sight, “And where did you exactly find this?”

“Oh you know…it was sort of unoccupied so I gave it a home. Our home,” San grinned as he gestured his hands at him and Wooyoung’s shared residence.

San laid on the sofa and watched Wooyoung count their new income on the table, his attention fully on the money to make sure he doesn’t miscount.

“So what are we doing tonight?” San asked as he tossed a knife up in the air while he was laying down and catching it nonchalantly.

“The usual,” Wooyoung answered back, his attention absorbed on the money.

San sat up as he caught the knife again with perfect timing, “The usual? Or the usual?

Wooyoung placed the wad of money back onto the table, “$10k,” then looking up while mirroring San’s smug smile, “Let’s do the usual.”

The usual activity that Wooyoung and San partake in is an activity where they go out at night and steal from rival gangs instead of stealing from standard stores. Being put into dangerous spots gave them an intense thrill and they loved the feeling of adrenaline pumping in their veins to the max. At first, they used to do this only every so often, but eventually began getting more open to the excitement and became a habit for them to do this every night, almost as if it was a game for them. A game that they were truly addicted to without any hint of awareness that their usual activity would be their critical downfall.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Wooyoung! Run faster!” San screamed back at his friend who was following behind him.

It was odd.

“Hurry up! Move your legs, come on!!”

Wooyoung and San have done this many times before and got out completely unharmed for the most part but tonight...

Tonight was different.

The gang that they decided to steal from were not like the usual gangs they’ve previously encountered. They were instead, a lot stronger and Wooyoung and were severely outnumbered. Which was why, instead of behind unharmed, San got stabbed in the shoulder by one of the members who snuck up behind them. However, he wouldn’t have gotten stabbed if Wooyoung had paid closer attention to his surroundings more. As Wooyoung was running in desperation, he felt immensely wretched with guilt.

“Run faster! They’re catching up!” San screamed again as a trail of blood followed his footsteps.

Wooyoung felt nauseous hearing the screams of the gang that was chasing behind them so nearby but even worse the guiltiness that chased after him. Wooyoung was so lost in his self-condemnation that he almost didn’t notice San stopping all of the sudden.

“Shit!”

He was about to ask what was wrong and why San stopped so abruptly but finally realized the new heavy situation that they were in.

A dead end.

Wooyoung hastily looked around with anxiousness and turned to see behind him as the gang caught up to them, blocking their only escape. As they were nearing closer to him and San, Wooyoung then looked up, still desperate to find their freedom. But all he could see were layered bricks that created walls towering over them. The walls... and the night sky. The stars were beautiful...so uncharacteristically beautiful for this wicked situation that he felt the twinkling constellations were almost taunting them. The stars were free, but they weren’t even close.

He shut his eyes as he looked down and clenched his jaw, unable to handle the taunting as the gang began circling them, completely encaging both him and San.

This was it.

He and San were going to die here tonight and it was all his fault. San continued to give threatening glares at the gang that almost made them waver due to how intense his eyes were but still kept strong when they heard their boss command them, “Kill them off.”

San slowly reached for Wooyoung’s shoulder and whispered, “Wooyoung. Don’t freak out. I’ll finish thi–”

When Wooyoung lifted his head up, San’s words were cut short and was utterly stunned when his friend opened his eyes. Not a single drop of fear was found, and was instead, replaced with something that was all too familiar for San but never on Wooyoung.

Bloodlust.

Before San could even stop him, Wooyoung pulled a gun out from the holster that was hidden in his leather jacket and began shooting the gang members.

The gunshots echoed the compacted space and he fired so fast that the firing flashes were similar to strobe lights. One by one, the gang members dropped to the floor, a red dot decorating on the direct center of their foreheads. Whenever the flash emitted, San could see the shuttering agonized faces that were twisted in pain. Wooyoung reached back into his leather jacket with his other hand and pulled out another gun. He shot with both guns while reloading both when needed.

It was all occurring so fast, way too fast.

It didn’t take long until San began smelling the blood. The heavy scent of iron filled his nostrils, a nostalgic smell for him but should’ve never been for Wooyoung. At this point, the gang began retreating in great fear that they would meet the grim reaper unexpectedly tonight but Wooyoung continued to fire without mercy. Even as they were running, his aim never faltered, hitting the back of their heads with such precision as blood splattered across the concrete ground. Screams filled the area as the brick walls that were once gray, were now covered with pinpoints of red, finally matching the twinkling stars and finally fitting characteristically with the taunting constellations that scattered above them.

San reached forward to stop Wooyoung, as things were taken too extreme but were once again left stunned at his expression. Wooyoung was smiling. He was enjoying this and that scared San deeply as a sinister aura had overtaken his best friend. When the last visible standing man was left completely isolated with his dead comrades surrounding him, a final alarming sound of the gunshot echoed in their ears as the last sole survivor fell to the ground, sounding a vigorous thud on top of the other bodies.

It was finished. He killed them all.

The ground was hardly visible due to the bodies that cluttered around them, leaving the small cracks covered with puddles of blood, an aftermath of a death storm. San couldn’t keep his eyes off of the bodies, not because the sight was overwhelming for him but because it was Wooyoung who had caused this. The guns slipped from Wooyoung’s fingers, suddenly feeling too weak to stand as his eyes began portraying the familiar soul that San had spent that last two years with. Wooyoung was back to his original self and although San was relieved, panic quickly flickered his eyes. Suddenly, the sound of a body moving behind Wooyoung alarmed both of them. Wooyoung quickly turned around and was met with one of the members of the gang reaching for him with a knife in his hand and fury in his eyes. Wooyoung reached inside his jacket and panicked when the guns weren’t there, the memory of him dropping it on the ground completely rid from him.

Before Wooyoung could even think about what to do, an object speedily flew past his head, swishing past his ears as the metallic object glinted from the moonlight in his peripheral vision. His eyes grew wide upon hearing the sound of something cracking, feeling the sensation of warm liquid that suddenly splattered across his face, and seeing the sight of the man before him. A knife was lodged deep inside the front of the man’s skull, his face far too expressive despite his soul already departed from his body as the man’s lifeless body leaned forward, his shoulder slightly grazing Wooyoung’s arm as he fell to the ground. Wooyoung, body trembling, slowly turned his head to look at San.

“Sorry… I didn’t mean to get his blood on you–”

“San… I-I just k-k,” Wooyoung began hyperventilating and collapsed on the ground as he choked out his words, “k-kill…I j-just.”

San quickly got on the ground, matching his friend’s level and began patting his back to soothe him, “Don’t talk, just breathe. You need to focus on your breathing–”

“How can I focus on breathing when I just killed people?!” Wooyoung slammed his fists on the concrete, staining his hands red and then slammed them again and again… San continued to watch as his friend’s emotional state fell apart, unable to figure out a way to comfort him.

“I’m a murderer…a murderer..” Wooyoung began repeating himself maniacally, “murderer.”

“Then that makes me a murderer too,” San finally spoke up as Wooyoung glanced at him as tears rapidly began forming, “You’re not the only one who has killed tonight. So that makes both of us murderers. You’re not alone.”

Upon hearing that, Wooyoung began to weep, unable to comprehend the events that had just occurred so instantaneously.

“I’m sorry…I-I’m sorry,” he gagged with vomit but kept going.

“I’m s-sorry. I-I’m so-sorry. I’m sorry.”

San patted his friend’s back again, unable to find the right words to provide comfort.

“I’m sorry…”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After the incident, Wooyoung struggled deeply to go back to his normal lifestyle.

He couldn’t eat because it made him think about the blood.

He couldn’t sleep because it made him think about the blood.

He couldn’t live because it made him think about the blood.

“Wooyoung, they’re kicking us out if we don’t pay the rent,” San spoke softly as if he’s afraid to trigger him and sat the letter that declared their dismissal on the table.

Wooyoung and San both stopped stealing after that, they stopped doing anything for that matter. Wooyoung stood abruptly and made his way out the door groggily.

“Where are you going?” San asked worryingly.

“They want us out. So I’m leaving,” Wooyoung answered, voice hoarse from lack of hydration.

“Leaving where?”

“Don’t know,” Wooyoung exited.

San sighed and followed his friend out without hesitation. They didn’t have a destination or a purpose. Wooyoung felt numb but he almost found it humorous how he felt so dead when his body was still technically alive. During the day, they would walk aimlessly. During the night, they would sleep on the sidewalk, not caring if it was comfortable or not. This continued for days and San quietly followed him.

One night, Wooyoung collapsed on the sidewalk, his body finally giving out from lack of proper care and nutrition. The tiny rocks scraped his cheek as he came in contact with the gravel. San collapsed soon after, almost as if he was waiting for Wooyoung to collapse first.

They both hit their limits.

Wooyoung shakily flipped his own body over so he would lay on his back while San remained still.

This was it.

Wooyoung smiled as he felt death approach him but when he looked up at the night sky, the same stars were yet again… so uncharacteristically beautiful for this situation that he felt the twinkling constellations were taunting him again.

That’s when it hit him, the reality.

He was really going to die. San was really going to die.

“S-San,” Wooyoung called out but his voice cracked.

No response.

“S-San. H-Hey,” Wooyoung called out again, this time a little more hastily but was left without a response.

Many people walked past them, some not batting a single eyelash, and some looking at them with complete disgust as if they were scum that littered the sidewalk.

“San…answer m-me–”

Wooyoung’s vision of San suddenly got blocked by a pair of well-polished shoes. He slowly tilts his head and looks up to see a boy around their age who then crouched down and laid down between him and San. Wooyoung initially thought he was drunk or even mocking them but he didn’t have the energy to argue.

“The stars are beautiful tonight, huh?” the stranger lying next to him spoke up, not taking his eyes off the twinkling sky.

Wooyoung didn’t answer and they all laid in silence, on the busy city sidewalk. After a few more moments of silence, Wooyoung officially confirmed to himself that San had died.

“This isn’t how humans should live,” the stranger sighed as he spoke softly but the heavy words triggered something within Wooyoung.

“Humans?” Wooyoung spouted bitterly, throat burning due to how dry it was but he pushed forward, “You think we’re humans?”

“Of course,” the boy answered him, “You and your friend. You’re both humans.”

Wooyoung began laughing, thinking that the stranger was sharing a joke with him. But when he looked at his straightforward eyes, Wooyoung knew he was serious and that terrified him.

“G-Get away from me,” Wooyoung commanded him but the boy didn’t move. Not even a single strand of hair.

“Get the fuck away from me! and get away from San too! Just because he’s dead, doesn’t mean you can invade his personal space!” Wooyoung screamed, eyes bloodshot and his lungs felt as if it was on fire as the words left his mouth.

“Let me help you and your friend. It’s not too late… Whatever you’re both struggling with, I’ll carry the burden with you both.”

The stranger spoke so calmly and soothingly that he felt his anger overtake him. Even though it should have been physically impossible for Wooyoung to move, he extended his hand and harshly grabbed the collar of the boy lying next to him who seemed extremely unfazed by his actions.

“What do you know…. What do you know about what San and I dealt with?” the boy listened intently as the volume of Wooyoung’s voice gradually began increasing, “Carry the burden? Don’t fuck with me. You don’t know what San and I went through. It’s not too late? You don’t know how long I’ve waited for this moment, where I can finally die and get out of this living hell and rest. in. peace!!! Carry the burden, my ass! Don’t spout shit in your fancy little shoes when you don’t know anything!!!” Wooyoung screamed as he was desperately out of breath but was stunned that the boy simply smiled. It wasn’t a smile that mocked or belittled him. It was a knowing smile. And it made Wooyoung feel something that he wished he would never feel, hope.

His biggest fear.

Wooyoung became petrified. He let go of the stranger’s collar and tried to get up to walk away from him but his arms gave out and his body slammed back onto the sidewalk. It seemed that his body had truly reached its physical limit but that didn’t stop Wooyoung from trying to crawl, hands desperately dragging across the gravel, making his fingertips bleed.

“Get the fuck away from me!!!” Wooyoung screamed using every last drop of his strength and felt his mind began to haze over, perhaps finally meeting his end.

Instead of listening to Wooyoung’s wishes, the stranger gets up and moves in front of Wooyoung, crouching down closer at his eye level.

“Please....just take care of San. Take care of San but leave me...please,” Wooyoung begged as tears slipped out of his eyes, stinging the scratches on his cheeks.

The stranger placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, “Trust me. I will protect you both,” he smiled again and Wooyoung felt his consciousness drift away…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

*beep…beep…beep*

Warmth basked Wooyoung’s face as the light emitted on his face, feeling his consciousness wander back to existence. He opened his eyes slowly, eyelids awfully heavy and saw where the heat was coming from. The sun radiated against his skin that shined from the enormous window that took over the entire wall.

*beep…beep…beep*

The sound finally registered within his brain as his eyes grew wide, realization finally hitting him.

He was supposed to be dead.

He jerked his head to the side and saw the heart monitor that was hooked on him, beeping.

He was alive.

Wooyoung trailed his eyes down to his arm where an IV was attached on his inner elbow, giving him the necessary fluids to keep him alive.

He was given another chance to live again…

Suddenly, another realization dawned upon him. San…what happened to San?

“Oh, you woke up!”

Wooyoung looked up to the voice in a panic, finding a boy he’s never met before standing before him.

“San! Where is San?!” Wooyoung reached up and grabbed the collar of the boy’s jacket desperately.

“P-Please calm down. Your friend is–“

“Alive and well.”

Wooyoung and the boy both turned to the direction of the voice and relief washes over Wooyoung when he saw it was San who spoke up.

He was alive….and well.

“Thank the stars…” Wooyoung murmured to himself.

“Um…will you please let go of my jacket?” the boy asked with an awkward smile on his face, a little uncomfortable with the position he’s in.

“Yeah, Wooyoung. Seonghwa literally healed our asses. Be nice to him will ya?” San poked at him, grinning from ear to ear.

Wooyoung turned to the boy and immediately retracted his hold on the fabric, smoothing out the wrinkles that his grip caused, “O-Oh. Sorry, um…”

“Seonghwa. Nice to officially meet you Wooyoung,” Seonghwa smiled, genuinely this time.

“Ah. Nice to meet you, Seonghwa. I’m sorry for acting up earlier.”

“Oh! It was really nothing. I’m really glad Hongjoong brought you both here.”

“Hongjoong? Who’s that?“ Wooyoung asked but deep down he knew it must’ve been the boy he met before he lost consciousness.

“Hongjoong…is our leader.”

“Oh? I didn’t know that,” San cuts in.

“Leader of what exactly?” Wooyoung asks, feeling his fear lay upon his soul.

“ATEEZ,” a new voice cuts in, earning everyone’s attention at the door. Hongjoong walks into the infirmary and Seonghwa released a relieved sigh now that the leader was here to hopefully explain things to their guests.

“We are in a subunit group that was formed by our organization KQ. Our goal is to gather members to battle any forms of corruption within our society. Although we have an official title, we just started and it’s still in the process of growing,” Hongjoong chuckled as he rubbed the back of his neck, feeling a little bashful.

Hongjoong let out a nervous sigh and straightened himself before speaking in a decisive tone, “I’m sure you’re wondering why I decided to save the both of you.”

Wooyoung and San nodded slowly, alerting that they were listening as Hongjoong continued, “I’ll be honest and cut to the chase. I knew about the two of you before that night when you two were laying on the sidewalk. That means, San… I know where you came from.”

San stiffened upon the new information but Hongjoong quickly reassured him, “I know and that’s exactly why I won’t say anything. Wooyoung… we’ve actually met before a few years ago, on that bridge… You probably don’t remember but you’ve saved me once before and I simply wanted to repay that debt.”

The leader fell silent, the words of the last sentence trailing off, hinting that there was more than just a simple repayment.

Bridge…what bridge? Wooyoung traveled through his memories to pinpoint what Hongjoong was saying until he finally recalled what the leader was referring to. Ah…that bridge.

“And?” Wooyoung asks, feeling an inkling about what’s about to come next.

“And…I would like to ask the two of you to join ATEE–”

“No,” Wooyoung cuts in harshly, startling Hongjoong and Seonghwa but San didn’t even flinch, head low.

“San is free to choose whatever he wants, but I’m not joining. Thank you for saving me but I think it’s time for me to leave now. I wouldn’t want to impose any longer,” Wooyoung yanks his IV needle off as he dragged himself off the bed and made his way towards the door, leaving the two speechless.

“And I follow wherever Wooyoung goes. Thank you for saving me too,” San bowed his head slightly before following after Wooyoung who was inching closer to the exit.

Wooyoung’s legs felt a little weak as his bare feet touched the cold marble floor, as muscles ached from lack of use. Right when he reached for the handle of the sliding door, Hongjoong spoke one word that caused them to stop, “Nana.”

Wooyoung and San paused, unable to turn to face the leader or even make their way out of the infirmary, just frozen in place.

Nana... a name that was all too familiar to Wooyoung from the countless nights that San had talked to him about her, someone that was extremely important to his friend. San whips his head to Hongjoong who was staring directly at the two of them, with an unreadable expression, “What about Nana?”

“I wanted to wait until Wooyoung woke up to tell you this, but Yeosang is with us. That’s why I want to recruit you both. What I said about ATEEZ previously was true. We do rebel against corruption, but our primary focus is to get Nana out of ZG, we want to fight for her independence.”

Wooyoung turns around slowly to look at his friend, who looked immensely confused and conflicted.

“Set is with ATEEZ…?” San murmured, questioning his own self rather than specifically at anyone.

Wooyoung continued to gaze at San, letting out an exasperated sigh, “Fine. We’ll join.”

Everyone’s attention turned to Wooyoung, and San immediately tried to intervene, “Woo, you don’t even know her. You don’t even know what I was thinking about–“

“I’m sure you were thinking about joining anyways~ and I know how much she means to you… So I’ll join,” Wooyoung looked towards Hongjoong and Seonghwa, “But I’m leaving as soon as Nana gets out of ZG.”

“I understand,” Hongjoong replied, face covered with relief rather than content.

“Now that that’s decided, please lay down. You shouldn’t even be able to walk right now,” Seonghwa stated worryingly and Wooyoung silently complied, covering his face with the blanket as soon as he laid down.

Hongjoong nodded about walked towards San, “Follow me, Wooyoung should rest and Seonghwa will take care of him. I’ll take you to where Yeosang is.”

San looked hesitantly back at Wooyoung who looked already asleep but Wooyoung spoke up, the blanket slightly stifling his voice, “Go, San. Just catch me up later.”

San smiled at his friend’s attentive nature, “Hurry up and get better soon.”

“Yeah, yeah. Get out of here already~” Wooyoung answered as San followed after Hongjoong, exiting the infirmary, leaving him and Seonghwa by themselves.

Wooyoung peaked out of his blanket and at Seonghwa who was currently checking his vitals after hooking him back on the IV fluids.

“You can ask questions you know,” Seonghwa said without taking his eyes off the charts he was jotting notes in.

“How many members are in ATEEZ? Including…Yeosang, was it?”

“Five. Ah well, now it’s seven including our new members~” Seonghwa piped with a cheesy grin.

“Seven huh…How many more do you think Hongjoong is planning to recruit?”

“We have one more that we were originally planning to join, but it’ll be difficult to get him to agree. Which, will be our mission as seven members as soon as you get better.”

“Who?”

“His name is Choi Jongho.”

Wooyoung nodded at the information and felt himself drifting off to sleep, his body still severely exhausted from the past events.

“Seonghwa?”

“Hmm?” Seonghwa took his eyes off the chart to signal his attention.

“Thank you for doing this.”

“It’s no problem, Wooyoung... You know you were really close to death.”

Wooyoung pulled the blanket over his face again and whispered, “I know...”

“I’m really glad you’re alive.”

Wooyoung clutched the blanket even tighter around his body as tears began to slip out of his eyes, allowing the pillow to soak up the droplets until he finally answered Seonghwa, voice slightly cracking, “Me too.”

∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘

-e|n: i’m so sorry for the lack of posting! ch.7 should be out very soon but i hope you enjoyed this extra chapter over wooyoung’s past with little snippets of hints on how everything intertwines with each other. thank you again for reading and please let me know what you think! :)

#ateez #no fear i'm here extra #wooyoung edition #atzwriters #ateez fanfic #ateez series #hongjoong #seonghwa #yunho #yeosang #san #mingi #wooyoung #jongho #wooyoung fanfic

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baelllamyblake · 7 years ago

Text

Brainwashed by Love ( Bellamy Blake x reader )

Requested : me LOL

Warnings : Gore, abusive words?, curse words, angst, mentions of sex

Pairings : Bellamy x Reader

Word Count : 1,914

A/N: HOO BOY I can not wait for the writers’ block after this one. I basically just took the whole Alie taking over Raven sequence and replaced Raven with Y/N. Maybe a lil slow? I don’t know? At least it’s long lmao. I've seriously got a problem i have nothing else to do but write fanfics for bellamy help me pls

FEEDBACK IS GREATLY APPRECIATED SO PLEASE FUCK ME UP WITH IT <3

You were emotionally vulnerable and heartbroken but you didn’t think taking the chip would change the course of your life forever. The vicious dispute about the grounder massace between your boyfriend Bellamy and you left you in painful tears, struggling to find a way to relieve the angry build up in your chest. It left Bellamy trying to fix his guilty conscience by crawling on top of another girl in bed.

“ Hey, Bellamy.. I wanted to apolo- “ you said sincerely, swiping open the tent flap. You stopped dead in your tracks, frozen like ice. Bellamy was naked, interlaced with a girl that wasn’t you. The girl squeaked quietly before rushing to scoop up her belonging and get the fuck out of the tent. The severity of the situation intensified as Bellamy cleared his throat and rose to his full height, staying silent and averting his gaze from yours.

Your chest tightened and your breathing became shallow and quick. Your heart was breaking before Bellamy in a matter of seconds. He desperately wanted to embrace you and apologize profusely but knew that you would shove him away instantly. Tears streamed from your eyes and refused to stop falling. “ I didn’t think you could sink any lower, Bellamy but you always manage to surprise me. “ you choked out, stifling a cry before turning on your heel and storming out. Bellamy slapped the sides of his head, cursing himself for pushing away the only person that genuinely cared for him.

You briskly walked to the Ark and demanded Jaha give you whatever he was feeding to his ever-growing cult. He was hesitant to place the blue chip in your hand. “ We need Y/N. Once she takes the chip, the others will follow. “ Alie said, observing your heaving chest and puffy, red eyes. Jaha nodded in agreement and placed the chip in your hand. You glupped it down, the pain fading away instantaneously and a smile curling on your face.

“ Time to get to work, Y/N. “ Alie spoke, an empty smile on her digital face. You nodded in agreement, tears ceasing to fall instantly. You couldn’t even remember why you took the chip, but you knew everything was okay in the City of Light.

The heartache was gone, the pain ceased to exist, and you no longer cried yourself to sleep every night that Bellamy never returned from the tent. The false comfort of the City of Light put your heart to ease and every bad memory ceased to exist. Word spread around camp that you took the chip and Bellamy began to fall apart at the seams. Bellamy couldn’t believe he drove you to take the chip, he lost you completely.

While Bellamy was breaking down little by little every day, you were playing pawn for Alie. You hacked into mainframe after mainframe, looking for Alie 2.0. You thought nothing of it, you were willing to do anything for the City of Light. It wasn’t until retrieving the chip maker that Jasper who was accompanying you made you realize that was something was missing. You couldn’t even recall anything of Bellamy: his face, his voice, and none of the memories shared between you.

You tried everything in your power to force Alie out of your brain. She was everywhere you were, she saw everything you saw, and she heard everything you heard. Alie managed to break your rebellious spirit by removing the mind blockade and every painful memory flooded in every crevice and crack of your mind. You shrieked in pain, sweat beading at your hairline, writhing from left to right in a hospital bed.

Abby struggled to help relieve the pain while Alie coaxed you into giving in, promising that all of your suffering will end.

The last thing you could remember was accepting Alie’s offer and the world faded to black. Jasper stood by your side until you awoke. You woke up quietly as if you were awaken by daylight. “ Woah, Y/N. Are you okay? Take it easy. “ Jasper shot up from his seat, pushing you down from your biceps. You noticed your forearms were bandages but you didn’t know what. Jasper watched you examine your wrists with concerned eyes.

“ I’m sorry for lashing out like that, Jasper. Thanks for helping me. “ you said casually, looking to Jasper with a smile on your face. Jasper narrowed his eyebrows slightly, put off the fact that you were begging to get Alie out of you. “ No problem, Y/N. I’m always here for you. “ Jasper said, returning a fake smile before injecting a reaper stick in your neck.

You woke up, taking in a large gasp of air. You were in the back of an idle vehicle, voices immediately stopped speaking once they heard you came too. “ You need to get out and identify your location, now. “ Alie said, sitting on the bench to your left. You hopped up with vigor, quickly unlatching the door and running out into the dark night. “ I can’t see anything! It’s nothing but forest! “ you yelled, furiously turning around yourself, Alie standing behind you with a tilted head. Clarke and Jasper scrambled to subdue you, holding you down and injecting you with another reaper stick dose.

Clarke and Jasper drove and dragged you into Niylah’s house, fastening your wrists to a bedframe to keep you from escaping. Bellamy watched from behind them, guilty that he made you turn out like this. Jasper decided to take first watch over you. You woke up with a groan, taking a look at your surroundings. “ Where am I? “ you asked, Jasper fiddling with a knick-knack on the table. “ Somewhere safe. “ Jasper answered with a sigh, not bothering to look at you. You started to fiddle with the fabric restraints.

“ Hey! Y/N, stop that! Clarke, get in here! “ Jasper yelled, panicking that you managed to dislocate your shoulder and rip open a wound. Clarke rushed in, eyes growing wide at the sight of you. “ Alie! If you let Y/N, you’ll never get Alie 2.0. “ Clarke yelled, grabbing the attention of you and Alie. Clarke held in her fingers the superior version of Alie. You instantly complied and stopped resisting, allowing Clarke to pop your shoulder back in its place and to bandage your wrist again.

“ Thanks, Clarke. I wonder about something. Do you ever see faces of those you’ve killed? You know, like Wells, Finn, Jake Griffin, and Lexa?, “ you asked in a cheerful yet devious tone. Clarke did her best to brush off what you had said. “ I just wanted to say that I think those deaths were completely your fault. “ you said bluntly, Clarke furrowed her eyebrows in anger. “ Shut the hell up, Alie, “ Clarke demanded firmly, you bit her on the wrist and drew blood. “ Fuck you, Alie! I can’t wait to get you out of Y/N. We’re going to fry you, bitch! “ Clarke yelled furiously, Bellamy rushed in to restrain her and drag her out. “ They’re going to use an EMP. Nice job, Y/N. Keep working at them. “ Alie said, deep in thought before disappearing from your vision.

Bellamy and Jasper stepped in to cover Clarke’s shift. They stepped warily around you, anxious of what you had to say next. They both sat at the same table, keeping their gaze strictly on you. Bellamy kept his eyes fixed on your face, the blood running down your face contrasted brightly against your (S/C) skin. Bellamy felt guilty yet again for doing this to you.

“ Hey, Jasper. How does it feel to live in the shadow of your best friend? How does it feel to be the burden of the group? How does it feel to have to be constantly saved by your friends? “ You asked quizzically, tilting your head. Jasper grew uncomfortable, teeth grinding and foot tapping against the dirt floor. Bellamy noticed your manipulative game and sent Jasper out to spare him from you. You bore your eyes in Bellamy who was looking off in a different direction, deep in thought.

“ Hey, Bellamy, doesn’t it annoy you that you didn’t the credit you deserve for killing everyone in Mount Weather?, “ you asked with crooked intention. Bellamy didn’t even acknowledge what you said, much less your presence. “ I mean, it’s quiet a shame really. The deaths are on your head as well. Too bad you’re not a natural born leader like Clarke is. She’s back one day and you’re already following her around like a lost puppy dog, maybe you like her more than me. Maybe you want to fuck her as well. It doesn’t matter anyway because you’ve already asserted your authority by massacring 300 grounders who just wanted to help out. “ you said flatly, eyes burning with a secret rage. You wanted to break Bellamy further than he already is. Bellamy clenched his jaw and fist silently, trying his hardest not to lash out at you. He knew that you weren’t yourself, you would never say anything like that.

Niylah barged in, screaming, crying and cursing in your face, saying that everything was your fault. Bellamy shoved her out, worried because you knew where you were currently being hid. “ You’re fucked. “ you said with a devilish smile, letting out a laugh. Bellamy shook his head and left, demanding everyone find a way to get Alie out of you.

Everyone scurried to create an EMP device, leaving to gather parts. They rushed into your room in the middle of you trying to commit suicide, proposed by Alie. Jasper and Bellamy inhibit from you doing so while Sinclair set up the EMP device in front of you. “ No, please, Sinclair! I’ll get brain damage if you use that! “ you screamed, crying and resisting against Bellamy and Jasper. The group used it anyway, your body slumped and you were unconcious. Bellamy finally touched your face after time apart. Thank God, you were breathing.

Bellamy thought about what he was going to say once you woke up. Clarke extracted the chip from the nape of your neck with master skill. You woke up with a groan, fingers shooting up to the pain on the back of your neck. Everyone waited with bated breath, were you going to feel pain or was the effort rendered useless? “ Ouch, this hurts. “ you said, wincing as you ran your fingers along the stitches. The group let out a big sigh and a couple cheers. Bellamy held your hand tightly and you looked up to him with a sweet smile on your face.

“ Thanks, sweetheart. I’m sorry for what I said to you. “ you said, bringing his hand to your face to peck a small, weak kiss. Bellamy breathed a small chuckle, moving the hair off your forehead. “ I’m so sorry for what I did to you, Y/N. You wouldn’t have been in this position if I wasn’t such a stupid idiot. “ Bellamy apologized, pouring his heart into his words. You accepted his apology with a sweet smile before pulling at his clothes so he would hop into bed with you. You fell asleep soundly in his arms, Bellamy kissed the top of your head and pulled you in close.

He fell asleep for the first time in weeks.

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