#i just scream into the void and hold everything in until i inevitably die alone

[tetsurouskitten]

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[lokiondisneyplus]

A review of “Journey Into Mystery,” the penultimate Loki Season One episode on Disney+, coming up just as soon as I paper cut a giant cloud to death…

Journey Into Mystery was the title of the first Marvel comic to feature either Thor or Loki. It began as an anthology series featuring monsters and aliens, but Jack Kirby, Stan Lee, and Larry Lieber were so smitten with their adaptation of the characters of Norse myth that the Asgardians gradually took over the whole book, which was renamed after its hammer-wielding hero(*).

(*) The early Journey Into Mystery stories treated Thor’s alter ego, disabled Dr. Donald Blake, as the “real” character, while Thor was just someone Blake could magically transform into, while retaining his memories and personality. It wasn’t even clear whether Asgard itself was meant to exist at first, until Loki turned up on Earth in an early issue, caused trouble, and Blake/Thor somehow knew exactly how to get to Asgard to drop him off. Soon, the lines between Thor and Blake began to blur, and eventually Thor became the real guy, and Blake a fiction invented by Odin to humble his arrogant son. It’s a mark of just how instantly charismatic Loki was that the entire title quickly steered towards him and the other gods.

But once upon a time, anything was possible in Journey Into Mystery, which makes it an apt moniker for an absolutely wonderful episode of Loki where the same holds true. Our title characters are trapped in the Void, a place at the end of time where the TVA’s victims are banished to be devoured by a cloud monster named Alioth. And mostly they are surrounded by the wreckage of many dead timelines. Classic Loki insists that his group’s only goal is survival, and any kind of planning and scheming is doomed to kill the Loki who tries. But this ruined, hopeless world instead feels bursting with imagination and possibility.

There are the many Loki variants we see, with President Loki, among others, joining Classic, Kid, Boastful, and Alligator Loki. There are the metric ton of Easter Eggs just waiting to be screencapped by Marvel obsessives (I discuss a few of them down below), but which still suggest a much larger and weirder MCU even if you don’t immediately scream out “Is that… THROG?!?!?” at the appropriate moment. And all of that stuff is tons of fun, to be sure. But what makes this episode — and, increasingly, this series — feel so special is the way that it explores the untapped potential of Loki himself, in his many, many variations.

This is an episode that owes more than a small stylistic and thematic debt to Lost. It’s not just that Alioth looks and sounds so much like the Smoke Monster(*), that it makes a shared Wizard of Oz reference to “the man behind the curtain” (also the title of one of the very best Lost episodes), or even that the core group of Lokis are hiding in a bunker accessible via a hatch and a ladder that’s filled with recreational equipment (in this case, bowling alley lanes). It’s also that Loki, Sylvie, their counterparts, and Mobius have all been transported to a strange place that has disturbing echoes from their own lives, that operates according to strange new rules they have to learn while fleeing danger, and their presence there allows them to reflect on the many mistakes of their past and consider whether they want to, or can, transcend them.

(*) Yes, Alioth technically predates Smokey by a decade (see the notes below for more), but his look has been tweaked a bit here to seem more like smoke than a cloud, and the sounds he makes when he roars sound a lot like Smokey’s telltale taxi cab meter clicks. Given the other Lost hat tips in the episode, I have to believe Alioth was chosen specifically to evoke Smokey.

Classic Loki is aptly named. He wears the Sixties Jack Kirby costume, and he is a far more powerful magician than either Sylvie or our Loki have allowed themselves to be. He calls our Loki’s knives worthless compared to his sorcery, which feels like the show acknowledging that the movies depowered Loki a fair amount to make him seem cooler. But if Classic Loki can conjure up illusions bigger and more potent than his younger peers, he is a fundamentally weak and defeated man, convinced, like the others, that the only way to win the game into which he was born is not to play. “We cannot change,” he insists. “We’re broken. Every version of ourselves. Forever.” It is not only his sentiment — Kid Loki adds that any Loki who tries to improve inevitably winds up in the Void for their troubles — but it seems to have weighed on him longer and harder than most.

But Classic Loki takes inspiration from Loki and Sylvie to stand and fight rather than turn and run, magicking up a vision of their homeland to distract Alioth at a crucial moment in Sylvie’s plan, and getting eaten for his trouble. He was wrong: Lokis can change. (Though Kid Loki might once again argue that Classic Loki’s death is more evidence that the universe has no interest in any of them doing so.) And both Loki and Sylvie have been changing throughout their time together. Like most Lokis, they seem cursed to a life of loneliness. Sylvie learned as a child that a higher power believed she should not exist, and has spent a lifetime hiding out in places where any friends she might make will soon die in an apocalypse. Our Loki’s past isn’t quite so stark, but the knowledge that his birth father abandoned him, while his adoptive father never much liked him, have left permanent scars that govern a lot of his behavior. The defining element of Classic Loki’s backstory is that he spent a long time alone on a planet, and only got busted by the TVA when he attempted to reconnect with his brother and anyone else he once knew. This is a hard existence, for all of them. And while it does not forgive them their many sins(*), it helps contextualize them, and give them the knowledge to try to be better versions of themselves.

(*) Loki at one point even acknowledges that, for him, it’s probably only been a few days since he led an alien invasion of New York that left many dead, though due to TVA shenanigans, far more time may have passed.

For that matter, Mobius is not the stainless hero he once thought of himself as. While he and Sylvie are tooling around the Void in a pizza delivery car (because of course they are), he admits that he committed a lot of sins by believing that the ends justified the means, and was wrong. He doesn’t know who he is before the TVA stole and factory rebooted him, but he knows that he wants something better for himself and the universe, and takes the stolen TemPad to open up a portal to his own workplace in hopes of tearing down the TVA once and for all. Before he goes, though, he and Loki share a hug that feels a lot more poignant than it should, given that these characters have only spent parts of four episodes of TV together. It’s a testament to Hiddleston, Wilson, Waldron, and company (Tom Kauffman wrote this week’s script) that their friendship felt so alive and important in such a short amount of time.

The same can be said for Loki and Sylvie’s relationship, however we’re choosing to define it. Though they briefly cuddle together under a blanket that Loki conjures, they move no closer to romance than they were already. If anything, Mobius’ accusations of narcissism in last week’s episode seem to have made both of them pull back a bit from where they seemed to be heading back on Lamentis. But the connection between them is real, whatever exactly it is. And their ability to take down Alioth — to tap into the magic that Classic Loki always had, and to fulfill Loki’s belief that “I think we’re stronger than we realize” — by working together is inspiring and joyful. Without all this nuanced and engaging character work, Loki would still be an entertaining ride, but it’s the marriage of wild ideas with the human element that’s made it so great.

Of course, now comes the hard part. Endings have rarely been an MCU strength, give or take something like the climax of Endgame, and the finales of the two previous Disney+ shows were easily their weakest episodes. The strange, glorious, beautiful machine that Waldron and Herron have built doesn’t seem like it’s heading for another generic hero/villain slugfest, but then, neither did WandaVision before we got exactly that. This one feels different so far, though. The command of the story, the characters, and the tone are incredibly strong right now. There is a mystery to be solved about who is in the big castle beyond the Void (another Loki makes the most narrative and thematic sense to me, but we’ll see), and a lot to be resolved about what happens to the TVA and our heroes. And maybe there’s some heavy lifting that has to be done in service to the upcoming Dr. Strange or Ant-Man films.

It’s complicated, but on a show that has handled complexity well. Though even if the finale winds up keeping things simpler, that might work. As Loki notes while discussing his initial plan to take down Alioth, “Just because it’s not complicated doesn’t mean it’s bad.” Though as Kid Loki retorts, “It also doesn’t mean it’s good.”

Please be good, Loki finale. Everything up to this point deserves that.

Some other thoughts:

* Most of this week’s most interesting material happens in the Void. But the scenes back at the TVA clarify a few things. First, Ravonna is not the mastermind of all this, and she was very much suckered in by the Time-Keeper robots. But unlike Mobius or Hunter B-15, she’s so conditioned to the mission that even knowing it’s a lie hasn’t really swayed her from her mission. She has Miss Minutes (who herself is much craftier this week) looking into files about the creation of the TVA, but for the most part comes across as someone very happy with a status quo where she gets to be special and pass judgment on the rest of the multiverse.

* Alioth first appeared in 1993’s Avengers: The Terminatrix Objective, a miniseries (written by Mobius inspiration Mark Gruenwald, and with some extremely kewl Nineties art full of shoulder pads, studded collars, and the like) involving Ravonna, Kang, and the off-brand versions of Captain America, Iron Man, and Thor (aka U.S. Agent, War Machine, and Thunderstrike, the latter of whom has yet to appear in the MCU). It’s a sequel to a Nineties crossover event called Citizen Kang. And no, I still don’t buy that Kang will be the one pulling the strings here, if only because it’s really bad storytelling for the big bad of the season to have never appeared or even been mentioned prior to the finale.

* Rather than try to identify every Easter egg visible in the Void’s terrain, I’ll instead highlight three of the most interesting. Right before the Lokis arrive at the hatch, we see a helicopter with Thanos’ name on it. This is a hat tip to an infamous — and often memed — out-of-continuity story where Thanos flies this chopper while trying to steal the Cosmic Cube (aka the Tesseract) from Hellcat. (A little kid gets his hands on it instead and, of course, uses the Cube to conjure up free ice cream.) James Gunn has been agitating for years for the Thanos Copter to be in the MCU. He finally got his wish.

* The other funny one: When the camera pans down the tunnel into Kid Loki’s headquarters, we see Mjolnir buried in the ground, and right below it is a jar containing a very annoyed frog in a Thor costume. This is either Thor himself — whom Loki cursed into amphibianhood in a memorable Walt Simonson storyline — or another character named Simon Walterston (note the backwards tribute to Walt) who later assumed the tiny mantle.

* Also, in one scene you can spot Yellowjacket’s helmet littering the landscape. This might support the theory that the TVA, the Void, etc., all exist in the Quantum Realm, since that’s where the MCU version of Yellowjacket probably went when his suit shorted out and he was crushed to subatomic size. Or it might be more trolling of the fanbase from the company that had WandaVision fans convinced that Mephisto, the X-Men, and/or Reed Richards would be appearing by the season finale.

* Honestly, I would have watched an entire episode that was just Loki, Mobius, and the others arguing about whether Alligator Loki was actually a Loki, or just a gator who ended up with the crown, presumably after eating a real Loki. The suggestion that the gator might be lying — and that this actually supports, rather than undermines, the case for him being a Loki — was just delightful. And hey, if Throg exists in the MCU now, why not Alligator Loki?

* Finally, the MCU films in general are not exactly known for their visual flair, though a few directors like Taika Waititi and Ryan Coogler have been able to craft distinctive images within the franchise’s usual template. Loki, though, is so often wonderful to look at, and particularly when our heroes are stuck in strange environments like Lamentis or the Void. Director Kate Herron and the VFX team work very well together to create dynamic and weird imagery like Sylvie running from Alioth, or the chaotic Loki battle in the bowling alley. Between this show and WandaVision, it appears the Disney+ corner of the MCU has a bit more room to expand its palette. (Falcon and the Winter Soldier, much less so.)

[jate-kara]

the beacon |  on AO3

But you’re not alone,” the voice tells him, and it’s so gentle it brings tears to Anakin’s eyes. All this time – all this death – all his loss – the rest of his life: and he is kind. “You never have been.”

“Obi-Wan,” Anakin whispers. A phantom touch brushes across his brow, and all at once Obi-Wan is there. His smile is soft, not worn.

“Hello, old friend,” Obi-Wan says. “It’s been too long.”

--

Anakin burns.

His breath leaves him in a strained wheeze. His chest is heavy. The air is thick: the reactor smokes and seethes, far below. He takes a second’s comfort in the thought that Palpatine has been scorched to a charred husk by it, but it’s too brief, too broken, and then it’s gone.

Luke heeded him. Luke let go.

But Anakin holds on.

There is no light waiting for him on the other side: he’ll close his eyes and his spark will flicker and fail and that will be the end. The Force is vast, the Force is vibrant. Cosmic. Infinite.

It will swallow him, not spare him.

There is a secret to life beyond life, they said. Palpatine searched for it, tore and screamed and swore he knew it. What he promised Anakin he denied Vader. And now, lying shuddering on the deck of a station born to bring death, Anakin knows there is no such secret. Palpatine lied and twisted and turned and Anakin, in rage, and Anakin, in pain, and Anakin, in furious, desperate faith, seized that false oath between his trembling palms and swung his saber and cleaved his solace and filled his lungs with hate.

It is such a quiet thing, to fall, but far more terrible is to admit it. Old masters. Ancient texts. He found in them no peace. He set them aflame. The Temple still seethes: in his dreams, he walks the halls he scarred. He feels the heat. Hears the screams. The Force burns truth like a beacon.

Let go.

His throat is tight. Nothing to be done for that, now. There’s a haze at the edge of his vision. He blinks against it. Just a moment longer. Just a moment, before the tide rises and he slips into the depths. The light is just as inevitable as the dark. Stars burn, stars die, but it’s their final chaos that pulses bright; their last memory is not of silence or sorrow; they do not remember the void.

They remember fire and life.

Ahsoka, smiling, beaming, bright. Rex, laughing, ever steady at his side. Fives. Echo. He reaches for their ghosts. Sunlight bursts in his chest and he tries not to choke.

Let go.

Obi-Wan’s hand is on his shoulder. He’s smiling. He’s proud: his lips are moving, are forming words, but Anakin’s ears are ringing too loudly to hear him. He wants to rush into his arms and cling tight; he wants to bury his face in Obi-Wan’s shoulder and cry. He remembers the saber’s searing path every time he closes his eyes. He told himself it was good, told himself it was right, but with every breath, with every step, he felt a loss too deep for words. He can’t speak. He can’t breathe. He just wants to hold.

Let go.

He doesn’t want to face the end alone.

“But you’re not alone,” the voice tells him, and it’s so gentle it brings tears to Anakin’s eyes. All this time – all this death – all his loss – the rest of his life: and he is kind. “You never have been.”

“Obi-Wan,” Anakin whispers. A phantom touch brushes across his brow, and all at once Obi-Wan is there. His smile is soft, not worn.

“Hello, old friend,” Obi-Wan says. “It’s been too long.”

I’m sorry. The words catch. Anakin blinks fiercely.

Obi-Wan’s palm settles over his heart. “I’m here,” he says, and there’s a catch to his voice too. “It’s all right, Anakin. I’m here.”

Obi-Wan is solid and warm, a pillar of solace in the storm. When Anakin was young and scared and saw menace in every shadow, saw terror in every corner, Obi-Wan was beside him, rubbing soothing circles into his back and whispering I’m here, I’m here until the tension drained away and he remembered how to breathe. Here, now, at the end – here now, after everything he did: that hasn’t changed. Father. Brother. Betrayed.

“Stay,” Anakin croaks, a plea for a comfort to which he has no right. “Please.”

“I will never leave you,” Obi-Wan says. “It’s all right, Anakin. Let go.”

The chasm yawns wide before him. The maw gapes. On its precipice, he trembles.

“It’s all right,” Obi-Wan repeats. There’s no urgency to his tone. Just calm. Anakin feels like a small boy again, at the mercy of the monsters he so feared and then became. “Let go.”

He’ll fall. He’ll drown. He’ll bathe in the bright and it will burn him to eternity.

“It won’t,” Obi-Wan murmurs. “Let go, Anakin. I’m here.”

“I can’t.”

Obi-Wan stood between him and the dark until Anakin shattered his shield and stepped into the shards and chose. The Force swells, sings. There’s a weight about his shoulders. There’s a warmth in his chest. The fear suffocates – fades. He’s safe. Obi-Wan is here.

Of course he’s safe.

“It’s all right,” Obi-Wan says again. “Let go, Anakin. Come home.”

Anakin closes his eyes. His final breath is even. Easy.

When he wakes, he wakes to light.

Obi-Wan is before him, clad in his robes. His hands are folded. He looks as he did before the Clone Wars: regal and serene. There’s a peace in his eyes Anakin hasn’t seen since he was a padawan.

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan says, like an exhale or a whisper or a muffled sob of a cry. His eyes gleam; tears spill down his cheeks. He closes the distance between them in two steps, wraps his arms around Anakin, and pulls him close.

“I’m sorry.” The words fall in a tangled rush, broken and burdened. Anakin’s breath stops in his throat. I’m sorry, he says, as if that can mend the ruin wrought by his rage. “I’m so sorry.”

Obi-Wan’s hand presses to the back of Anakin’s skull and cradles him against his shoulder. “I know,” he says. His voice cracks. “Oh, Anakin. I know.”

In this life beyond life, Obi-Wan is a bastion of love and light. The Force burns truth like a beacon.

Welcome home.

--

[crystalirises]

In Moonlight We Meet (The Walls of Illusion Part 1)

I crawl from the depths of college to give this fic, and I shall disappear into the void once more.

Anyway, hope you guys like this :D.

Ao3 Link:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/30512157/chapters/75248370

Fundy gazed out into the vast darkness of the land, his hands grasping at the cracked blackstone that comprised his nation’s walls. Starlight twinkled in his eyes as his ears twitched with every noise that came from the forest beyond. He pulled his hat closer to his head, afraid that the wind would sweep him back into the cage that was his home. He took a deep breath, relishing in the night breeze that tickled and caressed his cheek like a mother would to her baby. He took one final glance back, crouched as low as he was, he could only catch traces of figures and shadows moving about within the country. Fundy looked towards home. Warm yellow light seeped out from the camarvan’s windows as a lone silhouette stood by the window - calm and unmoving.

He held onto the edge of the stone, taking a deep breath before beginning his descent. He paused every so often, the stray sound of footsteps or rustling bushes frightened and coaxed him to return to the safety of his room. He braved on, reaching for every edge or hole he could grasp as he made his way down the side of the wall, grateful that his father hadn’t realized his absence. If he was caught outside, Fundy would never hear the end of the lecture. He winced at the thought.

Fundy has broken rules in the past, but this one - this one - is one Wilbur would never forgive.

He stifled his yip of joy as he felt the soft grass, the blades of grass tickling the soles of his feet. Fundy’s tail wagged from side to side as he hesitatingly moved away from the wall, exhilaration coursing through his veins as he realized that he was outside. He was actually outside the walls!

Fundy pulled his black jacket closer to himself, the freezing cold of the night pierced through his skin as he turned to look out into the dark forest. The fox hybrid knew he shouldn’t let his guard down, tales of the monsters that lurked beyond L’Manburg’s walls rushed to the front of his mind. His father would tell him the stories of zombies, skeletons, and creatures that exploded if one were to get near. He didn’t doubt his father’s words, but he had to see the world for himself.

The hilt of his sword pressed against his side as he walked further into the shrubbery, the moonlight filtering through the trees his only source of light. But for a fox hybrid, the night was but a companion, the world brighter in his eyes despite the darkness that shrouded him.

Despite his bravado, he chose to stay away from the noises, not eager to come across a monster.

As he got further away from L’Manburg, a giddiness overtook the apprehension in his heart as his pace began to quicken. Fundy felt a smile stretch across his face as he started to run, feet thumping against soft grass and fallen branches as he ached to chase the feeling of freedom that had so long forsaken him. He could feel the rush of euphoria as the moonlight graced him with its presence, the forest welcoming as he explored every inch that he could. Fundy had no map of the forest, had no bearing of where he was going, but he had - no, he needed - to run. His nose picked up every new scent, his eyes picked up every new sight, and his hands picked up every new texture that he could get his hands on. He couldn’t help it, couldn’t help but wish to run until the scorching sun came up over the horizon and cursed the land with its pale yellow hue.

As that thought circled through his mind, his pace quickened, anger fueling him now as he knew he couldn’t outrun the inevitable forever. Fundy could feel the hot tears gathering in his eyes, scowling as he wiped them away with the sleeve of his jacket. A part of him dared to not go back, to flee to somewhere far away and leave the suffocating walls of his father’s nation behind.

Still, where would he go? The world was vast and unexplored, where would he run to? With the war that encompassed the entire land of the Essempy, how could he flee without being caught by L’Manbergian soldiers or by the enemy? Fundy shuddered at the thought, his father’s warnings of the enemy coming to the forefront of his mind. Death would be more merciful than them.

Then there was Wilbur, his dad. Fundy felt his ears press against the top of his head, his pace slowing until he was merely jogging. He couldn’t leave his dad alone, couldn’t leave without a proper goodbye. His dad was doing everything he could to keep Fundy safe and he couldn’t leave knowing that he would be leaving his heartbroken father to forever wonder if his son was still alive somewhere in the world. He let out a sigh, running a hand through his windswept hair. He can’t break his dad’s heart. He just can’t. Fundy shook his head, resuming his run through the forest. He wasn’t going to leave his dad. Never. Fundy would never break his dad’s heart.

He paused, the sharp crack of a branch snapping nearby sending him to a panicked frenzy as he jumped to lean back against the rough bark of a tree. The bushes in front of him were rustling, yet he couldn’t see any of the monsters that his father had warned him about. He felt his heart leap in his chest as the noise got closer and closer, his hands scrambling towards his sword, fingers fumbling between his fingers as he desperately tried to grab at the hilt. He could feel sweat trickle down the side of his neck, the cool night air sending goosebumps down his skin as it whispered of his demise. Oh gods, oh gods, he was going to fucking die here. Fundy huffed out a breath. His dad was right. He shouldn’t have left the walls. He shouldn’t have left the walls! He got his sword out, but it was too late. He screamed as a small shadowy mass leapt towards him.

His eyes shuttered close, the blade slipping past his hands as he waited for the shocking pain to hit. A few seconds ticked past, yet death did not come to claim his soul that night. He took a shaky breath, trying to quell his erratically beating heart. With tremors running up and down his fingers, he slowly lowered his hands from his face, gaze flicking down towards… the fox?

Fundy lowered to a kneel, hands reaching down towards the small fox that had bounded out of the bushes. Its dark brown eyes regarded him with a friendliness that made Fundy’s heart warm, its little paws petting against his lap as it tried to climb onto his shoulder. Fundy gently pushed the fox down, terrified of running and accidentally dropping the fox. It tilted its head to the side, sadness - at least that’s what Fundy assumes - dancing in the fox’s eyes as it let out a whimper, turning around in a circle before jumping onto Fundy’s lap. He barely had time to properly react before the fox’s dirt-stained paws were against his chest, its snout reaching up past his face as it snapped its teeth at something above Fundy’s head. Fundy watched in a stupor as the fox jumped back down, his black hat hanging from its mouth. The fox gave him one last look, a crystal clear look of mischief in its eyes, before turning on its heel and running further into the shrubbery.

“Wha一 HEY!” He bounded after the fox, his feet thumping against the forest earth as he darted between low-hanging branches and the night monsters that lurked. “COME BACK HERE!”

He swore the fox just snickered at him. Fundy growled underneath his breath. He could not go home without that hat! It would draw too many questions, and then he’d have to tell his dad where the hat even went. Oh, absolutely not. No, just no. “Come back, please... Come on, man!”

As he ran deeper into the woods, the moonlight began to disappear underneath the leaves, the world plunged into the darkness with only his eyes giving him the ability to see. He chased after the fox, calling for it to come back as fatigue began to seep into his bones. In his haste to get his hat back, he began to bump into all sorts of things. Fundy began to bump into trees, their harsh bark grazing him on the cheeks as he stumbled and tripped over his own two feet. Mobs got closer to him, rotting hands reaching for his flesh as arrows breezed overhead. Fundy gritted his teeth, pushing himself away from the mobs as he continued to follow the fox who was kind enough to wait for him each time he slowed down or lost sight of the fox. It would glance back at him every so often, wag its tail, before running off again. Fundy was beginning to think that this was the gods’ punishment towards him for disobeying his dad’s rule. “I NEED THAT, YOU一”

He let out a small ‘oomph’, diving face first onto… something. Fundy gripped whatever it was in front of him, the texture soft yet fuzzy against the palm of his hand as he tried to blink away the dizziness and surprise that had taken over his mind. He looked at what he had bumped into, eyes adjusting back to the darkness as he tried to wrack his mind about what he was holding. It wasn’t a tree, his mind helpfully supplied. The surface of whatever-it-was was colored in disgusting lime green, the color a stark contrast to the shadows of the forest. His ears flicked up, his body tensing in fear. There was a strange noise in the air like… a kettle hissing… hissing… HISSING!

Fundy screamed, pushing against what he could only assume was a creeper, knocking it to the ground as he hurried to get away. He tried to ignore the little shriek that it made, surprised to find that it sounded nearly human. GODS, why did they make those monsters sound human?! Fundy shook his head, running until he was a safe distance away from the impending explosion site.

Though… he could have sworn he hadn’t heard an explosion at all.

Fundy managed to collapse into an open clearing, his limbs failing him as he laid there on the ground in pure exhaustion, adrenaline gone from his veins. He felt paws scrabble at the top of his head, teeth gripping his jacket collar as the fox dragged him further into the clearing. He groaned, trying to bite the little pest away but it persevered enough to force him back into a sit. He blinked away the sleep from his eyes, knowing that he couldn’t go to sleep in the middle of nowhere. The fox had curled up in his arms, nuzzling itself into his jacket as though to keep itself warm. He reached up a hand, his hat already on his head. Huh… well, at least his hat was back. An exasperated sigh escaped his lips, a smile forming on his face. Then he looked up, and froze.

The moonlight glistened against the clear surface of the lake, bathing it an ethereal silver glow. Dark shadows darted from its depths as tiny fishes waltzed with one another in their own little dance, undisturbed by his ungraceful presence. With the fox cradled in his arms, he made his way to the shore, his eyes bright as the golden flecks in his dark brown eyes shimmered underneath the glow of the moon. He felt his breath leave his throat, the sereneness of the clearing - dotted as it was by the prettiest of flowers that bloomed underneath the care of the moon - sending a wave of calm through his tense and tired body. He felt safe. He felt at peace.

“You’re a little shit, but… thank you. For this.” Fundy held up the fox so that he could look into its eyes. The fox yipped, licking the tip of its nose as it began to struggle in his hold. He placed it on the ground, the fox whimpering as it tried to climb back up his arms. “Sorry… I can’t一”

His dad would question where he got a fox so late at night. Fundy moved away from it, even as it began to clung to the edge of his pants, its little claws digging into the cloth. He felt his heart ache, wishing that he could just scoop the little guy up and take it home. He tried to take a deep breath, reminding himself of the reason why he couldn’t just take the fox home with him. There was no place for a pet in war. Fundy crouched down, the fox immediately trying to jump into his arms, but he kept it from doing so. He placed his hand against the fox’s head, rubbing behind its ears as it slowly began to lie down, tail wagging excitedly as Fundy continued to pet it. The fox let out a purr, nuzzling further into his hand. “I’m sorry. I’d really take you with me if I could.”

It was the snap of a twig that made him pause. The fox looked up, its ears raised as it looked out into the treeline behind the lake. Fundy strained his eyes to see against the shadows, but he couldn’t see anything. The fox yipped, moving away from him as it headed towards the noise. Fundy took it as his cue to leave. He wanted to stay and bask in the beauty of the clearing, but now all he could feel was fear and trepidation, as if a being was staring at him from the trees. He felt a shiver run down his spine. He was being observed. He could tell. With one last look at the lake and the fox, Fundy turned and began to run back towards where he felt home was. He heard the fox squeak after him, could hear its paws thump against the grass it tried to catch up to him, but Fundy wasn’t as kind to wait for it as it had been for him. He ran until the fox’s cries were but a distant noise, he ran and ran until the familiar look of blackstone appeared within his view.

Within seconds, he was climbing up the wall, reaching for the spots he had used to climb down. There was a hollow feeling in his chest as he reached the top, almost as if he had left a piece of him within the forest that night. Fundy looked into the forest once more, before heading back in.

“Did you believe I wouldn’t notice your absence?” Fundy froze, nearly slipping and falling off the wall as he quickly turned around, jumping down to the ground as a silhouette appeared from behind the tree that stood nearby the entrance to L’Manburg. “Fundy, what was my one rule?”

He gripped the bottom edge of his shirt, scratching as bits of string hung loosely from the cloth. He turned around to face Wilbur. The man looked utterly exhausted, dark circles beneath his eyes as a cool breeze ruffled his uncombed, curly brown hair. Wilbur stood at attention, one hand gripping the hilt of his sword as Fundy felt his father grasp his arm. Fundy couldn’t bring himself to speak as Wilbur dragged him deeper into the confines of L’Manburg, soft chuckling from somewhere in the darkness (no doubt Tubbo and Tommy watching Fundy be dragged off into another lecture). Fundy bit the inside of his cheek, the hto dog van coming into view as Wilbur practically shoved him inside. Shadows clung to the furniture, the soft hiss of potions brewing the only source of noise within the small space that Fundy nearly wished that Wilbur would just leave him there to sulk for the night as his punishment. Luck was not on the fox hybrid’s side.

“Have you any idea how terrified I was to find out that you were missing? I was this close to sending out search parties, Fundy. I was this fucking close!” Fundy hung his head, his father’s yelling accompanied by the sickening slam of the door closing. He pressed his lips together as Wilbur grabbed him by the arms, his hold nearly bruising as Wilbur glared into his eyes. Fundy felt a trickle of fear, “I can’t have you doing this again. Do you know how reckless and stupid―”

“I just wanted to take a walk, dad…”

“A walk? A WALK?! What if you got caught? What if you ran into fucking Dream? Have you no self-preservation. FUCK!” Fundy flinched as Wilbur let go of him, only to slam his hands against the table. Wilbur was breathing hard, his chest heaving up and down as if he was calming himself down. “I can’t lose you, Fundy. Dream’s a tyrant, he would do anything to win this war.”

“Why? Are you scared they’re going to use me against you? They probably don’t even know I exist since I’m not even allowed to leave this place! How could they even know you have a son to use as blackmail when you don’t let me wander outside the walls?!” Fundy hadn’t meant to raise his voice, stuttering into a fearful pause as he realized the seeping anger in his tone. Wilbur glanced up at him, shock dancing in those dark brown eyes. Fundy leaned against the wall, the cool metal sending goosebumps down his skin… or perhaps that was the rising frustration. L’Manburg was Fundy’s entire world, he barely knew anything outside those depressingly large walls that seemed to reach up into the heavens above. Wilbur had made it clear to everyone that Fundy was to never leave. “Dad, I can’t live my whole life here. There’s a whole other world out there just waiting to be explored. I… I just wanted to see it. You can’t keep me inside forever.”

“It’s not forever, Fundy. It’s just until the war is over.” He felt a gentle hand caress his cheek. Fundy didn’t even realize that Wilbur had moved closer, “Then you’ll be free to… wander.”

Fundy chuckled at that. His dad was a terrible liar, he couldn’t even conceal the hesitation in his voice. Fundy focused his attention on his muddy feet instead, remembering how the wind felt against his hair as he raced through the forest, the fox that had taken his hat and made Fundy follow after it until Fundy reached the silver lake. His eyes had been his only guide. Of course, he did run into a few trees while chasing the fox, even running into a creeper that he swore made a fucking kettle sound (was that how creepers hissed?) when he bumped into it. He had eventually come to a stop by the clear lake at the center of the empty clearing, watching the dark shadows zip around the bottom of the water. Fundy had petted the fox, enjoying the serenity and peace of the night. Then he fled, the creeping sense of being watched having sent goosebumps down his skin.

“Give it time. We’ll have our freedom and perhaps I’ll let you leave L’Manburg every now and then.” There was a hand on the top of his head, soothing his ears down as a smile formed on his dad’s face. Fundy couldn’t bring himself to return it. “I promise. Just stay inside for now, hm?”

“You promise?” He moved closer, clutching the front of his dad’s coat. Wilbur placed a hand at Fundy’s back, hesitant as if Wilbur wasn’t quite sure if Fundy was asking for a hug. Fundy gritted his teeth at the idea of even hugging Wilbur at such a time. He let out a sigh, willing his voice not to shake or for tears to spring into his eyes as he glanced up to meet his father’s eyes. He hated how he barely reached his father’s chin despite being older than Tommy or Tubbo. “You talk of freedom and independence as if they were inevitable. Don’t you see how hopeless this is dad? You’re fighting a losing battle. You think you can beat a god? A fucking god? We’re all going to die. I-I’m going to die. I’m going to die without ever having lived, dad―”

The rest of his words were swallowed away as Wilbur pulled him into an embrace, a hand pressing his head against his dad’s chest. Fundy could almost hear the erratic beat of Wilbur’s heart, felt the way that his dad held him clser as though his words had actually frightened Wilbur. Guilt trickled into his heart but Fundy tried not to hold onto it. “Don’t say that. You won’t… you can’t die. I’ll make sure of it. We’ll be fine, my son. You won’t die on the battlefield.”

“You can’t promise me that. You can’t promise me a chance against death.” Fundy wasn’t sure if Wilbur could hear him - not sure if Wilbur would dare to hear him - but he had to try. Wilbur began to hum, a discordant tune that sounded more like droning as if he was trying to block out Fundy’s voice. Fundy curled his hands into fists, nails digging into the skin of his palm. His dad was doing it again, ignoring the negative as if it didn’t exist. “Dad… you have to let me live a little. We don’t know how much time we have left before… Let me feel freedom for once.”

Silence ticked by as Wilbur moved away, a pained look in his eyes as he looked down at Fundy. There was the shimmer of tears but Wilbur didn’t cry. No. Never in front of Fundy. Wilbur wrapped his arms around himself and Fundy realized that Wilbur was reassuring himself more than he was protecting Fundy. This wasn’t about Fundy at all… this was about Wilbur’s fear.

“I love you very much, my little champion. I love you enough to say no to what you’re asking of me. I… I can’t have you running about in the forest at night doing gods know what. Not when Dream is out there… waiting.” Fundy rolled his eyes at that. For all this talk of Dream, he’s never even seen the illusive man at all. Fundy was beginning to think that Wilbur had made the man up, like he did once when Fundy was a kid and Wilbur had jokingly said there was a monster underneath the bed. Wilbur regretted it as Fundy refused to sleep alone for an entire month. “Do you know why I built those walls? The walls you are so adamant to hate? I built them for you. I built them to keep you safe, Fundy. I need to protect my sweet little son. Can’t you see that?”

“Can’t you see? I’m not that kid anymore. You need to stop seeing me as a a helpless baby.” Fundy felt his last inkling of hope disappear. Wilbur would never understand, never will for as long as he thought the world would take his son away. Fundy turned to leave, ignoring his dad’s call for him to come back. He stood at the door, hand hovering above the handle.

“Fundy Soot, you get back here this instant. The conversation isn’t over.” He let out a low growl. It was over, Fundy was ending it. He pushed the door open, the cool, night wind blowing through his hair and into the cramped and heated van. “Don’t you growl at me, young man. FUNDY―”

He looked back, snarling loudly that Wilbur immediately backed off, a surprised look on his face. Good. Fundy didn’t want to stay there any longer. Fuck Wilbur and Fuck L’Manburg too.

“You know what, Wilbur? I never asked you to fucking protect me. You made that choice. Now I’m making mine.”

And with that, Fundy was gone.

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

Hope you guys like this! :D

*soul gets claimed by mid-terms* ;-;

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

Humans are Space Orcs, “Sand and Stars.”

This should get interesting quickly 

The GA council chambers were silent. Many alien races stood in solemn silence as they watched the footage.

The Rundi chairwoman averted her eyes as the last wreckage of the ship vanished into the void leaving behind only its jettisoned parts.

“Commander Vir has been announced Missing In Action.”

The Council chamber glanced between each other, sure that he was more than just missing. The human representative, seeing the looks on their faces lowered his head, “It is a human tradition that a man or women be presented only as Missing in Action until a body is found.”

“But…. That will be… forever.”

“Then commander will be forever known as missing in action protecting his planet, protecting your planets , and everything he loved…. We would ask, in human tradition that we…. Have a moment of silence for Commander Vir.”

Off to the side, Lord Celex stood atop his pedestal eyes fixed on the repeating footage before him, watching as the ship carried a great warrior into blackness. A great warrior and a good friend, someone that lord Celex had always respected and come to admire though he had never told the human that. Around the room others were thinking the same.

The Drev councilor had known the commander’s ties to the Drev nation, known his membership in two separate clans. And to him it was as if he was losing one of his own.

The Rundi chairwoman felt similarly…. As if she too had lost a friend, an who had always been more than willing to meet her people on their own level, to speak with them the way they spoke among themselves, and to follow their traditions to matter how arbitrary.

“The UNSC  is declaring war against the Burg. We do not expect the GA to understand, to care or even to participate, but we do ask that you do not impede our progress….” The human paused eyes narrowing slightly, “You will NOT impede our progress.”

There was silence around the room as some of the council chamber shifted.

Eventually Lord Celex hopped forward, “We will not impede your war human, but what of those who wish to stand with you.”

That seemed to surprise the councilor who turned, “Lord Celex?”

“Commander Vir was an ally, and a friend. He has treated the Celzex nation with not but respect and friendship. Humanity has stood behind this council since the beginning, since the Drev war.” He turned to look at the Drev councilor, “I feel that it is only fair my people do the same…. I find that it would be the best way to honor a man who honored us.”

There was a pause before the Drev councilor stood, “Commander vir is one of our own, a Sentinel of the Wandering tribe, and a declaration of war on him and his is a declaration of war on us and ours.” He slammed his spear against the floor, “Let humanity and the Drev stand beside each other in war, as we once stood against each other, and let the galaxy tremble before our assembled might.”

The Gromm stood next, “We owe the commander a great debt for saving our people, first form illness, and then from the Burg invaders as they first attempted war upon us. We will join in the fight, though supplies are most of what we can offer.”

A Tesraki stood, “We will join sides with the humans.” Turning to look at the FInnari who stepped up to add.

“As shall we. Commander Vir saved our species from extinction.”

The entire council chamber didn’t stand, but those who did were more than enough. The warriors and the arms dealers, and the politicians.

For the first time in thousands of years a majority of the GA council chamber was going to war.

***

Landing in a human life-pod is not an experience Dr Krill had ever wanted to experience, but un luckily for him, his entire life had been about things he had never ever wanted to experience ever in his entire existence.  IT had all started when he insisted on staying behind until all his patients were put onto life pods or moved onto a different part of the ship. Dr. Katie had gone with a few of the critical cases and he had seen his last human off before realizing that there was no room left in the life pod for him. Oh well, those sort of things tended to happen but what was he to do really so he moved his way over to another one of the pods.

Obviously it had occurred to him the gravity of what was going on. The Commander had initiated a protocol which would seal on contained units inside the ship and then break it into pieces violently throwing the backwards and out of reach for the black hole, or.... whatever it was.

However, the med bay was in a position very close to the command structure of the ship, s it would be one of the last to be jettisoned. However, that didn't look good for their options of escape, so he had ordered the others out as quickly as possible and stayed behind to put the last things together before getting himself to his own life pod.

When he did, he strapped himself securely in.

IT had taken a bit longer for him to figure out the controls than he would have liked, but with a press of a button, he had been rocketed off into space.

The view hadn't been all that great, in fact Krill had almost lost his cool upon seeing the debris of the ship being shot away from the massive black swirling vortex which had caused a rift in the very fabric of space itself. Krill nearly lost his cool, or let’s be completely honest, he did in fact lose his cool and he did so very violently and very suddenly freaking out silently inside his pod where nothing and no one could hear him. He watched as the last segment was shot off past him and towards the still warring battlefield of Kree airspace.

IT seemed odd to hi that that part of the ship would be going so much faster than hi, that was until he realized what was going on. Beside him The command deck of the UNSC Harbinger was slowly gaining speed towards the swirling vortex, and so was he. HE squealed in surprise and panic, and tried everything he could to get the shuttle moving faster, but it seemed as if he had gone to far already. Dr. Krill was being sucked into the event horizon of a black hole. Of course not that Krill knew much about black holes. I mean it was black and it was a hole in space so he sort of assumed that is what was going on, though he couldn't really have said for certain.

Did it matter?

He was going to die.

HE had never thought it was going to end like this, but looking over at the other ship, he realized he wasn't entirely alone. Commander Vir was aboard that command deck, probably watching fro his captain's chair as doom rose up to meet hi. Dr Krill wished there was some way to contact him, maybe to bring a little bit of comfort before the two of them died, but he knew that was impossible, so he sat, and hoped that maybe the commander wouldn't notice him there. It was probably better if he thought it was only him as he plunged into the darkness.

They began moving faster and faster and faster towards the opening. Krill turned away eyes noble to look.

The closer they got the more the air seemed to warp around in until the very essence of space itself seemed to tear and break. He felt himself being pulled in many directions all at once, not all that unlike a warp.

At any moment he expected himself to be torn in half.

The world went black and then it went red, and then everything around him went white. He was swirling, his body trembling.

He felt sick, horrible, as bad as any warp on a human ship had ever been for him, and then suddenly everything was silent.

Krill waited for an inevitable death that never came. He opened his eyes and looked around expecting to see nothing but black, but instead, a delicate blue light was filtering in towards him from the outside. He turned in his seat blinking in surprise when, instead of death, he saw the glassy blue surface of a planet with delicate lines of clouds swirling over its face, deep blue water, and the brown and green, almost like earth though, he could tell by the landmasses that it wasn't.

Keill turned to look back behind him, but found nothing to be there. The black hole just have collapsed in on itself.

But no, that wasn't right, it wouldn’t be a black hole at all but some kind of warp tunnel, which made more sense. Now that he thought about it other than being black, the hole hadn't looed much like a black hole.

He turned to his other side, though if that meant that HE had survived, than maybe it also meant....

He didn't see the other part of the ship just now, but it’s not like he had 360 degree vision.

There were also more important things to think about right now, the number one being how he was going to survive all of this. The lifepod only had a few hours of sustainable air before he was going to die, and that meant he had to land the pod quickly. Luckily for him, he wasn't expected to pilot. It had a protocol for this, and he only hesitated for a second before pressing the button and holding tight as the shuttle began it's slow descent towards the face of the planet.

It had been an almost tranquil approach for the first few minutes, maybe the first half hour.

That was until they hit upper atmosphere and little tongues of flame began licking at the side of the the windows.

KRill rattled in his seat being shaken like  juice in a jug as he careened from the sky..... not slowing down as he could.

HE did not like this at all.

WHy wasn't he slowing down?

Why wasn't he stopping?

The fire outside his window grew up until he could see nothing. He was pushed back in his seat screaming as he plunged from the sky going from one horrendous death straight into another. he clasped the sides of the seats as the ground rose up at an alarming rate. A few hundred feet above the ground and its engines fire suddenly jolting him so violently that he completely backed out. Luckily he wasn't awake for the next part when the padding was deployed and he hit the ground, the shuttle bouncing and tumbling for a moment before coming to rest in the shallow waters of an inland sea.

And there he lay unconscious as the star above him curved over the horizon and vanished down into nothingness.

***

Stars spun in the night sky overhead as smoldering pieces of wreckage burned. Hot oil melted into the sand along the side of the beach as the native animals ran for cover in whatever direction they could find to save themselves from the great and intense heat. A set of vibrant white rings orbited the planet cutting over the sky above them.

There was a crashing off in the distance, and under the glow of the stars, a panel of metal crashed to the ground, and a hand clawed upwards towards the sky glowing gently in the cast white light from the planetary rings.

The hand bent down to grasp at the metal before it, pulling the body up and from the interior of the smoking wreckage. It fell to the ground with a thud sending up a wave of sand in all directions. Overhead stars winked and fire crackled. The silhouette lay prone for a long moment before weakly clawing at the sand, pulling itself away from the wreckage and across the open sand of the beach dragging its body towards the glittering surface of the water which reflected like a mirror the stars above.

It reached the edge dipping a hand into the water’s surface sending ripples out over the starry night sky.

It lay there for a long moment under the stars with the fire burning distantly at its back.

The ripples dissipated over the glassy surface dissipating to turn the sky and the water into one seamless whole.

Commander Adam Vir Rolled onto his back one hand still resting lightly in the water clothes singed and smoking as he stared up at the stars overhead turning to reflect off the glassy surface of his eye.

The vastness of the universe stretched out before him spinning overhead in a slow churn of eternity as he fell in  and out of consciousness, the stars his only companion in the darkness.

He shivered slightly, not from the cold, or the chill wind pulled over to him from across the water, but eventually his eyes closed and he slowly faded out his mind taking him somewhere safe and warm as he lay, just another piece of the wreckage on an alien planet.

[smileyoongle]

Come Back Home (A Kim Taehyung Mafia AU) // Part 2

Since so many of you wanted this, I just had to write it. Can't keep my readers waiting so here it is. Part Two. And I'll definitely be writing more parts to this. Consider it a series. Let's get it!

Summary: You were dead. Or at least that's what Kim Taehyung thought. But love never dies. A myth, yes. And maybe that's why when he finds out that you are alive, he may have already lost you.

Pairing: Mafia!Taehyung×Reader

This was another curve ball that life had decided to throw in Taehyung's way. And so far, this was the most unpleasant one. Being a mafia boss, Taehyung had dealt with all kinds of obstacles. He had been threatened, he had been shot, he had been betrayed, he had almost been caught by the police but none of it compared to what he was dealing with, currently.

Hoseok wrapped up all his medical instruments and stood up, frowning at you in sympathy. You were finally asleep after struggling and resisting with whatever energy you had left. It was mainly due to the benzodiazepine running through your veins but you were asleep, that's the only thing that mattered.

With a defeated sigh, he left the room to inform Taehyung who was eagerly waiting to see you.

Taehyung would have been in the room with you if you weren't scared of him. Surprisingly, Taehyung was the one you were scared of the most. You kept screaming at him to leave you alone, as if he was the one who tortured you.

"She's asleep for now." Hoseok announced, watching as Taehyung jolted up on hearing his voice.

With a curt nod, Taehyung rushed towards the room, not being able to wait anymore. The love of his life had come back to him, what else was he gonna do?

As soon as Taehyung wrapped his fingers around the doorknob, Hoseok stopped him by taking hold of his arm. Taehyung frowned and looked down at Hoseok's hand, wondering why he was being held back.

"There's something we need to talk about first." Hoseok mumbled, unable to look into taehyung's eyes. He already knew how red and puffy Taehyung's eyes must be because of all the crying he had done. But Hoseok couldn't bring himself to see the brokenness in them. He couldn't see his younger brother so damaged.

"What is it?" Taehyung asked, his tone holding the weight of an impatient man. Without a word, Hoseok dragged him back to the couch, making him sit on it as he sat in front of him.

The others stared at Hoseok with a curious look, trying to come up with different reasons for the upcoming conversation.

"She has been brainwashed...."

Taehyung's eyes stayed the same, not reacting to hoseok's words because he already knew this. You didn't remember him, for godsake. You didn't remember that one guy who loved you and gave you all he had.

"....beyond repair."

Now that made Taehyung's breath hitch. His heart was in his throat and all hope that he had for you to remember him had been shattered. There had to be someway. What was he gonna do?

"There has to something we can do, right?" Jimin asked, making Hoseok glance at him. Hoseok sighed and rubbed his forehead before answering the question.

"We need to know what Castillo did to her. I can't say anything until then."

Taehyung sat unmoving, his fists clenching and unclenching as he thought about all the possibilities of you having any memory of him. All he knew was that he had little to no hope left but he couldn't give up. Not yet. Not after he had got you back.

"Fine. Let's go talk to him."

💔🖤💔🖤💔🖤

"Finally here to kill me, huh?" A gruff voice filled the warehouse as Taehyung stepped inside along with the rest of the members. His eyes turned stone cold and he glared at the beaten man with a ferocious intensity.

Castillo was standing with his hands chained up to the ceiling, his clothes torn and bloody along with his skin which was splattered with his own blood. This wasn't a surprising sight for anyone who knew Kim Taehyung, things could have been worse. If anything, Castillo was being shown mercy.

"Oh trust me. You don't know the things that I have planned for you." Taehyung stated, the emotionless void in his voice was spine tingling.

Castillo chuckled, spitting blood on the floor before glancing at Taehyung with challenging eyes.

"Go on. Ask me what I did to her. I might tell you."

Taehyung gritted his teeth and prepared to lunge at him, only to be held back by his gang members.

Yoongi stepped in front of Taehyung, walking towards the tied up man with slow steps.

"Tell us what you did and we might spare you." He said, tilting his head with a threatening gaze.

Another breathy laugh escaped Castillo's mouth as he shook his head.

"We all know that's not gonna happen so I'll just tell you...."

Taehyung stopped struggling as the others dropped their hold on him, their attention turning to the man who was gonna die very soon.

"I drugged her....."

Taehyung clenched his jaw, trying his hardest to keep his temper in check.

"...again and again..."

His breathing became erratic as the others glanced at him, knowing very well what was gonna happen.

"...and I tortured her. I stuck needles in her arm. I carved her soft skin with a butcher knife. I starved her. Her screams were so delightful and sweet. Made me wanna keep hurting her. And you know what I told her?"

Taehyung took a step forward, ready to throw himself at the disgusting man in front of him.

"I told her that you asked me to hurt her. I told her that you wanted her dead."

A sharp punch landed on Castillo's jaw, blood spewing out of his mouth and dripping down his chin. Everyone stood calmly as they let Taehyung do what he wanted to do. His yells and curses rang through the room followed by Castillo's horrifying screams of pain. He deserved it.

He deserved it all.

"Now I'll tell you what I'm gonna do. I'm gonna bring in my hounds who are gonna feast on you. Alive and Breathing. And I'll stand outside to listen to your screams. Won't that be so delightful?"

Taehyung grinned maliciously before landing a final punch to Castillo's cheek and turning around to leave. He informed the guards to bring in his hounds and let them feed on the pathetic man's flesh.

"But don't let him die. Take them away before he stops breathing and fucking burn him alive."

The guards gulped and nodded, knowing better than to not listen to Kim Taehyung. As they all sat in the car, the show begin and Castillo's screams could be heard from outside the warehouse.

Taehyung smirked in satisfaction as a tear slipped down his cheek. He had taken his revenge for you. He had made sure to bring your kidnapper as much pain as you had endured. Unfortunately, you didn't remember anything enough to appreciate Taehyung. He loved you with his everything and all he wanted was for you to remember something. Anything.

💔🖤💔🖤💔🖤

"She needs to be around someone she remembers." Hoseok stated, placing a hand on Taehyung's shoulder and giving it a light squeeze.

"And she remembers none of us."

Taehyung clasped his hands in front of him, staring at the floor as he drowned in his own spiral of thoughts. He couldn't even begin to fathom how his life had gone so wrong.

If only he hadn't left you alone in the club that night...

"Who does she remember then?" Namjoon asked, wracking his brain for anyone who knew you before you met Taehyung. Taehyung's eyes widened momentarily before he sat up straight.

"Yoona..."

Hoseok nodded and stood up, glancing at everyone with a knowing look.

"Y/N kept calling her name before falling asleep. She remembers her. We need to call Yoona."

"But-but Yoona hates us. She'll probably do something to make sure that Y/N never remembers Taehyung!" Jungkook protested, staring at Hoseok in disbelief.

Hoseok frowned sadly and looked at Taehyung, finding the younger male looking very distracted.

"It's Taehyung's call." Jin announced, waiting for Taehyung to give a verdict.

Ignoring everyone, Taehyung stood up and walked to your room, quietly entering it and closing the door behind him.

You were still asleep.

A number of bandages covered your body as your chest rose and fell rhythmically. It broke Taehyung to see you like this, knowing it was all because of him. But at least he hadn't lost you completely.

He could hear everyone's murmurs from the living room, catching bits of their conversation. Cautiously, he sat down beside you and gently held your hand in his, bringing the back of it to his lips.

He softly kissed it and rubbed circles onto it with his thumb, taking his time to look at you properly. He still couldn't believe the fact that you were here, in front of him. That he was breathing the same air as you.

But moreover, he couldn't believe that you didn't know him. That all the happy times spent beside him, had been erased from your mind.

And the thought of sending you away to live with Yoona was killing him.

Because Jungkook was right.

Yoona had been your best friend and you used to live with her before Taehyung saw you. Yoona also ran a gang but she kept that a secret from you, kept you in the dark until one day Taehyung kidnapped you. But he didn't mean you any harm. He took care of you very well. All he wanted was for Yoona to pay back all the debts that her brother owed to Taehyung.

Her brother, Minho, had been relentlessly borrowing money and drugs from Taehyung's dealers, only paying back with empty promises. It had become important to get back the money since Taehyung's reputation as a mafia leader was at stake. He didn't let people get away with things like these anyway. So why must that one guy be treated any differently?

He kept you with him as leverage, promising you that he'd let you go back as soon as Yoona paid him back. And the day came very soon.

It was a rather memorable day since you refused to go back with Yoona. Because she had lied to you. She never told you what she did, playing around with you like you were a fool. Yoona was mad at Taehyung and she blamed him for all this. She begged for your forgiveness but you had already made up your mind.

But that wasn't all.

You had also inevitably fallen for Kim Taehyung. You had accepted all his flaws and you had decided to stand by him, as long as you were kept out of his work. Unfortunately, things went wrong one day and Taehyung failed to protect you.

"Will you ever remember me?" Taehyung whispered to you, caressing your hair and taking in their softness. You were so strong for having gone through everything, only to come out alive. Taehyung was proud of you. Very proud of you.

He kissed your head and stood up, letting go of your hand as he headed out of the room. Despite everything going on, he believed in the love you both shared. He believed that someday you would truly come back home to him. He was willing to wait all his life, if that's what it took.

"Call Yoona. Tell her everything."

Taglist: @min-t-posts @annoyinglyunabashedangel @bringitseijoh @kpopgirlbtssvt @unppleased @shadowstark @bangtanniexxx

Just tagging people who I thought would want to read this. Let me know if you wanna be tagged though. Or removed from the taglist. Anything works!

-XX

[yzareenxiv]

Small Lives

"He's a bad man."

Oh, Lolah, why didn't I listen?

She'd argued vehemently that she was just as bad, that she would make him better, that she deserved the monster because she, herself, was a monster and isn't that how it works? Isn't that how it should be?

Now he was dead and C'arha was done with her.

No more 'you make me want to be better'. No more 'I need you'. No more 'I love you'. No more lies. No more manipulations. No more broken vows. No more passion. No more screaming, snarling arguments. No more whispered words of devotion. No more 'Amata' or 'Tempesta' or 'Tenebris' or 'Goddess' or 'Kitten' or 'Love' or 'Sandari'. No more sun-bright brilliance or fire-and-ice glory. No more falling asleep to the sound of someone else's heartbeat. No more soft smiles and bright eyes met across rooms. No more hands holding hers. No more soul mates or star crossed lovers.

The nights were so very, very empty. The days tumbled into each other in meaningless cacophonies that threatened to drive her mad and too-frequently sent her into the corner of her bedroom with her pillow over her ears to block out the sounds of too many neighbors, too many voices, too many noises, too many thoughts. The apartment Ayanga had arranged for her had been a kind gift that she had taken when she had received word that her home was, for the time being, unlivable. She was not accustomed to being so close to so many people all the time and her sensitive hearing and self-imposed isolation did her no favors.

In desperation, weeks ago, Zareen had tried to return to her house, thinking it could only be better than being stuck in the echoing box she was in, even if it was a little damaged. When she arrived, she was met with the tangible evidence of her life's destruction- the damage caused by the fight with Arden and the fire that Sana had extinguished had collapsed the upper floor and the combined weight had sent part of the building into the basement. Efforts had been made to preserve everything from the elements but nothing else had been touched.

She had gone picking through the rubble, salvaging what she could, being reminded with every piece of debris she turned over of the life she had built in that place. Of another time she had gone picking through rubble and debris at C'arha's side, offering the distraught woman her company and care. The memory stung all the more as Zareen looked at the devastation around her, surveying it while all alone.

I brought this on myself.

Workmen were hired after that but she did nothing to oversee them. What was the point of having a house if the people that she had bought it for were dead or lost to her? It was just a husk, a pretty trap with blades that waited to slice and cut and bleed her heart dry with every memory. She was told they put all the things they had recovered into storage for her, that almost everything was salvaged, and she had tried to show her gratitude even as the apathy gnawed at the edge of her consciousness. The workmen worked, the house slowly ceased to be rubble, the garden grew under the care of skilled gardeners that she couldn't remember hiring and didn't really care about as long as they made certain C'arha's flowers didn't die.

She hadn't gone to see the progress of the house, or the items in storage, or the spring garden- what was the point? The cubs had everything they needed- she'd recovered nearly the entire nursery, thanks to the wards- and she had the few things that truly mattered to her. Everything else... everything else was shards of shattered dreams that she couldn't bring herself to crawl through. She'd tried, at first. Turning over everything that had happened in her mind, over and over again, running through her memories- the last 6 moons, then the last year, then the last two years, then her time since leaving the island, then her time since becoming the Jaguar, then back and back until her earliest memories. She walked through the world without seeing it, without feeling it, without experiencing it, too preoccupied with trying to figure out where it had all gone so wrong. When she finally realized she was accomplishing nothing by looking backwards it had been simultaneously a weight off her shoulders and an overwhelming feeling of pointlessness.

What had it all been for?

Looking into her daughters' eyes was the only bright spot, the only thing that felt like it meant something anymore. When they napped or played with each other, Zareen felt like a forgotten doll, dropped carelessly aside to wait for time's inevitable flow, and she sat almost lifeless, staring into empty space and doing her best to think of or do something productive. Dinner? Lunch? Did she need more laundry soap? Were the oranges in the bowl going mushy? Small thoughts, quiet thoughts, for a life that had gone small and quiet and mostly meaningless. Her spear gathered dust in a closet- she used to bring it out frequently to keep it cleaned and sharpened, had even ventured out hunting a couple of times, but as the suns passed she recalled too clearly her promises not to hunt alone anymore and that memory led to other memories of other promises, hunts both recent and long, long past, and pain and failure and joy and success and it was all too much. So she set that part of herself aside, trying to hide it in a windowless room to suffocate and die, to grow dull and useless and forgotten.

Zareen had never been one to go quietly into the night, though. And as much as she wanted to, as much as her days blurred together and her nights were spent restlessly staring at the walls- or startling awake screaming and lying trembling and still as she watched the shadows for threats and held tightly to a purple-hearted crystal- there was still something inside her, some unquenchable flicker that wouldn't allow her to end her own misery. Every time she went walking in Shirogane and found herself staring longingly at the sea, imagining the stillness, the silence, the chill and the dark, something spurred her to turn her head and keep walking. Every time she stood in the kitchen, time ticking away without comprehension, eyes fixated on the blade of the knife as she sliced carrots or potatoes, enchanted at the play of light over the metal and the promises of crimson and candy-apple and rubies, something would make her blink and frown and go back to preparing the meal.

She drank too much. She slept too little. She rarely ate.

Some days, she managed more. Some days, she even managed to gather herself and her cubs and go to see her family. Share a meal. Babysit. Be all small talk and smiles and rarely, very rarely, even laughter.

The nightmares were always worst, those nights, and she struggled terribly with guilt when she would feel relieved that she did not hear from anyone for a sun or two. She was not made to play pretend and she did not do it well.

I used to have such big dreams.

She didn't ask about the Pack anymore. When she felt the unmistakable chill of the Void brush against her senses, she did not drop everything to chase it down anymore. When she felt the Sin Eater inside of her stir, she ruthlessly ignored it until it slumbered once again. Small thoughts, those were safe. A small life. A life with walls and fences and overhanging rooftops and polite empty conversations where you ignore the pull of the sun and the moon, the dance of the stars, the rush of the wind, the call of the sea. Where thunder is just thunder and not the lovemaking of the gods. Where there are no great destinies calling your name. Where primal forces do not walk or talk or guide your steps. Where magic is a practicality and not an art and a thrill and a thing of beauty and great skill. Where the brandishing of weapons is frowned upon and martial skill simply isn't necessary.

Where emotions skate across the surface and you never, ever, ever look down.

It's so much more peaceful this way. Is this the way everyone else lives?

When she was told Dunrai was not returning from the Steppes, it had briefly brought it all bubbling back to the surface- grief and loss and loneliness and fear and self-loathing and anger and glorious memories of dancing and singing and stories and hugs and safety and warmth and love. She had wept, the storm fierce but too-quickly pushed down and away- who was she to cry and mourn? What right did she have? Mourning is too big a thing for a small life so she locked it away with all the rest- down in the dark- and did her best to make herself go out to help Ayanga and Tolemy more often with their cubs.

Then Ayanga asked to visit, made a proposal of the occasional family meals and sleep overs, and she had accepted with a confusing mix of reluctance and hope. Small lives had small things like these, didn't they? Women and men in the market who had never stepped foot outside the 8 or 10 blocks of their home spoke of family visiting and sharing a meal, after all. Maybe this would be okay- maybe this would be safe and she wouldn't have to crawl through the bright, keen-edged broken dreams again. So long as she could keep everything on the surface, keep the closets locked and barred, stay behind the walls, keep it all small and simple, then everything would be okay. She was getting so good at it, even his keen eyes wouldn't notice anything amiss. And if he did? Maybe, maybe he would welcome the change- maybe he would think she was just becoming more Doman, more centered, following his lead. Maybe if she was small and quiet and calm and civilized, maybe if she no longer danced through the world chaotic and loud and bright and feral and violent and fierce and loyal and loving and so very, very broken, maybe that was the person she was meant to be. Maybe that was what Tolemy had meant when he told her to find herself, even if what she found wasn't perfect.

Maybe they will understand that it is so much easier this way. As long as I keep my head down, as long as I don't look around, as long as I stay behind the walls and under the roofs and keep my hands to myself and my thoughts to myself and my dreams to myself and my nightmares to myself then everything else will eventually go away. That's how people do this, right? That's how people are. I may not be able to lie like everyone else can, but if I make my truth as small as possible, then I won't have to- I'll be just like everyone else.

((Tagging for mentions: @ala-mhinyan and @talesfromthegameff14 ))

[cosmitasiarts-moved]

Wrote a fic about uuh. something? this one is still angsty but less horribly depressing I promise, it’s about Ness revisiting Magicant. on AO3 at works/21412765

After their journey to save the world, life was gradually settling down and returning to how things used to be, give or take a few friendships. Despite mostly gaining friends, getting a boost in popularity at school, and the fulfillment of saving the world as its own reward, Ness couldn’t help but feel a profound loss and unending emptiness weighing on him.

He felt so disconnected from the people in his life, he’d never experienced it before. He couldn’t even feel the presence of his close friends, let alone the sudden influx of people who suddenly decided it was cool to be friends with the psychic kid who saved the world (They totally never made him feel like dirt or anything before now, not at all.) It was overwhelming to be bombarded with all the attention, even if it was starting to die down as of late.

For the longest time, Ness was trying to figure out why he’s remained so agitated, even long after his journey ended. It’s been months, everyone else around him was able to resume their lives as usual, or maybe that was just him letting his irrational frustration impact how he perceived the state of the world and people around him.

He thought, maybe it was just a reaction to the trauma. Maybe it was losing his longtime best friend. Maybe it was the blatantly artificial friendliness of the people in town and at school. Most realistically, it was everything blended together and building up. The most irritating part to him was the fact that he’s never been impacted by anything this heavily for this long before. He should have bounced back by now! He’s supposed to be the fun, positive friend, that’s what he’s always been.

The restlessness wasn’t getting any better. The dwelling on his anger, grief, and guilt, letting the thoughts cycle viciously through his head over and over, holding the same excruciating impact each time. He still couldn’t sleep soundly half a year later, those same disordered swirls of red assaulting his mind whenever he closed his eyes. The best he could do is toss and turn until his body gets too exhausted to move. After god knows how long he spent going through that same routine in his bed, a rare night came where he was finally able to slip out of consciousness.

The world melted away around him into a dream, easing him back into the familiar ethereal country of his mind’s creation, Magicant. He had no idea why he was back, he hadn’t been back to this place since the final sanctuary. He figured it would have disappeared, or at least be out of his reach, after his initial visit. He stood on his feet, the fatigue on his physical body fortunately not ailing him here.

Taking a moment to look around, he realized the once brightly colored island full of residents and personality had deteriorated into a barren, gloomy wasteland. He couldn’t see far, as a thick fog formed throughout the area. Something was tugging him to trek deeper. He began his return to the depths of Magicant, the dead grass crunching under his socked feet. It was lonely and eerily quiet, last time he had been here he had stumbled across plenty of familiar faces, but this time he was only getting fleeting images of people in the corners of his eyes that would vanish when he tried to focus on them for too long.

As he got further, the terrain shifted to dirty slush covered ground. Ness’s pace was reduced to a creep, trudging through the deepening slush. Coupled with the area’s change, the air went cold and heavy, making breathing increasingly difficult. Despite the frigid air stinging his skin accompanied by the thoroughly unpleasant sensation of snowy, wet socks, the feeling in his body remained in tact.

Ness was forced to a halt, kneeling over to cough, straining to catch his breath. The pressure of the air around him became far too encumbering for him to continue forward without rest. He took a moment to observe his surroundings again, he couldn’t tell how long or how far he’d been walking for. The phantoms of people became rarer, though more recognizable. None of them stuck around too long, all he could do was watch the memories and recreations replay before him until they inevitably dissolved. There were some members from his baseball team hanging out together. Tracy and her friends messing around. Paula, Jeff, and Pu saying goodbye to him. Pokey-

Pokey.

He ran off as soon as Ness registered who he was. Ness sprung back to his feet in pursuit, desperately trying to reach forward as his old friend receded into the oppressive haze. Eventually the slush under him dissipated to a solid ground of deep magenta, and the dread filling his stomach grew stronger.

Something inside of him knew he wouldn’t ever be able to see his old friend again, he wouldn’t ever be able to catch him. Against his better judgement, he forced his aching legs to continue racing through the darkening fog, getting caught up in his delusional hope to just see his long lost best friend one more time.

By the time he finally reached the center of the spiral, Ness’ lungs were burning and his legs wobbled under his weight, which he now realized was feeling like much more than his real body. He collapsed before the coil growing from the center, taking time trying to accept the fact that he was never going to catch his old friend. Though the sorrow gathered and set in his throat, he couldn’t even bring himself to cry about it anymore.

He remained slouched on the ground for a while, heaving his chest. Finally, he hesitantly moved to place his hand on the coil, his vision filled with a blinding light while he felt the land fall away beneath him, plunging him into murky, violet water. A haunting, detached voice resonated faintly from the center of the sea, drawing him towards it.

I… … … … … g… … d…

He waded towards the source of the voice, the water feeling much thicker and impeding his movement much more than he remembered. The restricted pace him gave him plenty of time to ponder. This place has changed so much since his last visit, he could only imagine what he’s going to encounter at the heart of this ocean this time.

I… … … p … … y...

There were no sea monsters infesting the waters this time around. In fact, even with Ness's ever intensifying sense of unease, he hadn’t come across anything immediately dangerous.

N… t… r… … … ht…

Ness couldn’t tell how much time has passed since he got here or how far he’s traveled. Although he was fairly lucid in this dreamlike realm, the rate in which time was passing was completely indiscernible. The only way he could tell he was making any progress was the clarity of the eerie cries.

N… … … s… i… h… … ts…

He was getting close.

Ness!

At last, there was a break in the fog, revealing a weathered, broken down iteration of the statue Ness had been met with before. Ness trembled with apprehension, but readied himself in a defensive and worked his way closer to it. His first step forward, it began to crack. Another step, pieces chipped and fall away. His last step towards it and-

In that instant, the statue shattered, erupting with tendrils of darkness. They sprawled out, completely consuming the sea around Ness, engulfing his sight and chilling him to the bone. Swirls of seething crimson spilled through the void, scorching against his skin and burning his eyes. A deafening cacophony of anguished screeches and Ness's name ripping the air. The overwhelming mixture of numbing cold, searing pain, and incomprehensible white noise rendered Ness unable to move, any thoughts he could attempt to formulate being drowned out to be replaced by overlapping mixtures of his own voice and that of the creature that never ceased tormenting him.

The most vile things inside of his mind smothered Ness, up until this point it had been rotting him from the inside out, only now has it begun the inevitable process of violently tearing him to pieces. The horrid mass flooding from his own conscience was seeping through his body bit-by-bit, causing the burning sensation coursing through his veins.

Hopelessness ravaged Ness's brain while he urgently wracked his mind for solace, a way out, something, anything to save him. Every thought and feeling that had resided in his head for the past months that he repeatedly tried to shelve and push away were all caving in on him at once, he had never experienced anything like this before, tears welled in his eyes, he couldn’t deal with it all on his own.

He doesn’t have to.

In the midst of the thunderous, scarlet whirlpool threatening to shred Ness’ body to pieces, it occurred to him. “Mom…” he choked a sob out into the brutal storm, which seemingly responded by becoming more vicious. He closed his eyes against the harsh force and finally let tears stream down his face. ”... Paula… Please…” his voice was hoarse, the cyclone grew angrier. ”Jeff…” it ripped into him deeper, he had to resist the rising urge to hurl from the pain. ”Pu…” ever so slightly, Ness felt like he could see openings in the darkness overrunning his mind when he opened his eyes.

”Please… I need… I-I… I can’t…” Ness’ aching body shuddered with another sob. ”I need help! Please!” he begged  as his stiff legs gave way and he landed on his knees, every inch of his body inside and out screaming at him in pain, though, it was less than before. The pitch black surroundings and red swirls were starting to give way to the purple sea he had remembered from what feels like so long ago. ”I need you guys… I can’t do this by myself...” he whimpered.

The storm continued to lash at Ness’ body, but it’s power over him was weakening. Even if he couldn’t see it, or hear it, he felt a comforting presence enveloping him, as if it were cradling him in a tender hug. “Thank you- thank you… Please stay with me…” He clung to whatever, whoever surrounded him as if his life depended on it, which, it probably does.

The poison red deluge recoiled from him furiously, surrendering to the returning color of the sea and lifting fog, falling back to the center and slowly draining away. As the last of the corruption dispelled, Ness let out a shaky sigh of relief. He closed his eyes and felt himself being pulled back into consciousness.

[shellalana]

Death’s Second (part 2)

“Yes. Like rebirth, the start of a new day. How would you feel about a new dawn?”

A chance to make something of myself, to stand out from the rest? How could I say no?

Before I finished uttering my assent, a strange feeling came over me. It was a deep vibration that came from within, one that shook me down to my bones and tossed my stomach about. I felt nauseous and wanted to rid myself of the sensation, but her gentle touch kept me rooted to the spot. Somehow, her black eyes became even darker. Soulless. The embodiment of the void this galaxy spun in. Only there were no stars to give me hope that there was something brighter out there. It was pure blackness that dragged me deeper and deeper until I was convinced there was no way out.

And then it was all over. Shachar stood before me but her people were gone. The gold palanquin was gone. Even the dessert and the stone city behind were gone. We stood on the sand, the two of us, holding hands as if we were long-lost lovers meeting again for the first time.

“Acceptance is the first step. You have become something great.”

“I don’t feel any different.”

“In here, you are.”

I rested my hand on my chest and was startled to find no heartbeat.

“Am I dead?!” How could she do this to me? What kind of gift was this?

“As I said, acceptance is the first step. You didn’t survive the crash of your pod. What you saw was the last illusions of your mind to alleviate your pain and find some comfort. But now you’ll be so much more. You can see the universe for what it truly is, see everything and anything at once. It’s what man has always wanted.”

“Not as a disembodied ghost!”

“What’s the body but just a vessel? You can still feel, you can still see.”

“I can’t tell anyone about any of this! I can’t go back and see my family!”

Shachar smiled and turned me around by my shoulders. There before me was the universe in its entirety. Galaxies spinning in their lazy pirouettes, some dying, others being born, rogue planets drifting aimlessly through space. She reached over my shoulder and pointed at a seemingly empty spot amongst all this busy-ness, and it quickly magnified in my vision.

I could see my mother, sitting along in a small transport ship, my eldest brother at her side. They were holding onto each other and weeping.

The view zoomed out again and refocused on another spot in the universe. My two younger sisters lay on separate gurneys, beeping machines hooked up to their tiny, bruised bodies. I turned away. That wasn’t how I wanted to see them.

“You can see them whenever you like. You can watch them grow, be happy, die, their children growing older…”

I found myself empty of the tears I wanted to cry. I should be in shock, I should be screaming that none of this was fair, that she’d lied to me. Then I remembered what she’d said earlier.

“If all of that was an illusion, why did I see you? Why are you real to me?”

Shachar’s smile became more somber and she turned me around once more.

“No one escapes Death. It’s how you choose to leave this world that makes the difference, that determines the form I take. Had you fought me, had you fought against your fate… well, we would be having an entirely different conversation. Nor would I look this enchanting.”

“You’re… Death?”

“I am.”

“And this is?” I gestured to the view before us. “Heaven?”

“No. It just is what is. No good people going to the good place and bad going to the bad. It’s nature.”

“And everyone comes here?”

“For a time. Some choose to remain observers. Others decide to give this up and reintegrate themselves into the molecules of the universe, to hopefully be reborn as something or someone else.”

To know that was I choice I could have made all of this less frightening. I couldn’t tell whether that was the shock kicking in or if I was really okay with all of this.

“Or you can stay here with me, learn what it is to become Death and eventually take my place. You say you’re not special, but that’s exactly what makes you fit for the role. There’s nothing special about death. It’s pure nature, the inevitable.”

“What do you get out of this?”

“The chance to be free, to make that choice to become a part of the whole once more. I have been at this a long time and it would be nice to remind myself what was left behind.”

“I’d be all alone again.” With such great power, I would have no one to talk to. Just like when I was alive.

“Never. There’s a universe of people out there, many of whom will need you when the time comes. You’ll be the first person they see when their last grain of sand falls. You will be their comfort and their guiding hand into this life.”

When she put it that way, how could I say no?

[sassysweetstories]

For Allison..

Request: “Can I have a teen with image with the pack after Allison died and the reader and her were super close and the reader starts getting depressed and saying things like “is all of this worth it in the end” and “it should have been me”? Thanks I love your writing if not I understand.”

Ship: none

Warning: thoughts of depression, angst, swearing, fluff, flashbacks, ghost!allison, etc. 

Third P.O.V

[Flash Back]

(Y/n) let out a scream- no, a shrill so loud the sound made Lydia’s banshee cry sound like child’s play. Her voice was hoarse and broken as she helplessly watched her closet friend get stabbed brutally in front of her, unable to do anything due to the pain emulating within her body, (Y/n) watched helplessly. Allison, her practical sister, fell to the dirt covered ground, clutching her stomach as blood began to pour out from it. Suppressing all the pain she had, (Y/n) crawled over to her dying friend, already pushing away the tears that began to threaten her ducts. She didn’t want her last memory of Allison to be blocked by tears. She wanted to remember her for as she was.

Glancing up at Scott, who shared the same hopeless eyes. Allison begun to slowly slip away. But that didn’t stop him from muttering hopelessly calming words into her ear. Allison glanced between the two people she adored the most, tears traveling down her face. (Y/n) cradled her friends head, humming Allison’s favorite tune as she tried to not weep. “I love you both, so much…” Allison croaked softly. Her last words. Though (Y/n) was human, she heard the words clearly, and watched as her best friend took her last dying breath. Scott felt her heartbeat disappear completely, leaving the world in their arms. Scott and (Y/n) broke down, holding and weeping each other for comfort. 

[Present] 

(Y/n) shot up from the confines of her bed, gasping and heaving heavily. A layer of sweat cascading across her whole body as she whipped the covers away. The longer (Y/n) attempted to relax and remain calm, the more her heartbeat grew as her body began to shake. She shook her head at the realization that her dream wasn’t a dream, it was a memory. Her best friend was gone. No, no, she can’t be. (Y/n) thought to herself as she fumbled to reach her phone. Dialing her contact number for the millionth time. When she didn’t answer, she called again, shaking her head in denial. “No, no, no, no..” 

The phone continued to ring until it went to Allison’s voice-mail. She continued to shake her head, denying the inevitable truth. After the fifth call, she threw her phone on her bed, thankful it didn’t break. This happened most nights since her death. Aggressive flashbacks that left her sleep deprived and shaky before dialing her friend, only to come to realization that she was gone, ripped out of her life. Ever since Allison’s death, the pack wasn’t the same. Especially Scott and (Y/n). Scott bravely kept his head held up high despite grieving on his own. (Y/n) however, for her, it was more than that. 

Since Allison’s death, (Y/n) stopped eating all together, barely sleeping and decided to cut off her friends and family in the process. Everywhere she looked, (Y/n) was reminded of Allison and her death. Everyday normal activities started to become difficult to fofill. Getting out of bed or brushing her hair started to become harder than ever; a nuisance. Let’s not even talk about pack meetings. She stopped coming altogether, choosing to spend her nights locked in her room. (Y/n)’s poor mother spent hours at the edge of her door, waiting for her daughter to say something, smile, anything. She herself, seemed to be losing hope. 

While her mother awaited anxiously below the steps of the stairs, (Y/n) stared off into the distance; the void of the darkness. She held a photo close to her chest, eyes blank, lifeless, as she shook on the edge of her butt, back and forth, curled and crumpled up in her hands lied a picture of her and Allison. They had gotten off a roller-coaster, hair messy and smiles from ear to ear. Scott grinning over their shoulders while Stiles stuck his tongue out at (Y/n), winking at the camera. It was marked down as the best day of Allison’s life. (Y/n)’s most favorite and prized memory. 

(Y/n) wasn’t entirely sure how long she’d been sitting there, in her room. She was just staring at the picture, longingly. The sight alone would make anyone’s heart crumble. The longer (Y/n) gazed down at the photo, the sadder she became. Allison would never graduate.. She would never get married or get her dream job.. Allison would never travel the world and drink wine under the stars.. She would never again laugh until her stomach begged for mercy.. She would never attend Prom.. She would never have kids or a husband to call her own.. These unsettling thoughts plagued (Y/n)’s conscious all the time. Allison was gone.. How would (Y/n) go on? How would she be able to live without her? She went to Allison for everything. She was the real reason (Y/n) made it through most of high school.

The first day the two met, thanks to Stilinski being late to retrieve (Y/n) from her house, she was late for first period. Allison was right on her tail as she stumbled into Economics. Coach at yelled at her in front of the whole class for being late. The whole while (Y/n) was trying to defend herself, Allison spoke up and saved her life by saying, “Actually, (Y/n) was helping me with my locker. I’m the new student. She offered to walk me here but we were a little behind schedule. It was my fault.” Allison had saved (Y/n)’s ass from Coaches wrath. And after that moment, the two had become thick as thieves. Slowly but surely, all of her memories of Allison seemed to have haunted (Y/n). She barely slept or ate anything. The pack begun to grow extremely worried for her. After a few days, they decided to confront her. 

(Y/n) leaned against the wall of lockers, looking across at Allison’s empty one. She felt numb, completely and utterly numb. Allison meant everything to her, and more. She felt as though someone had taken a gigantic blade and ripped her body apart, starting with her heart. (Y/n) felt nothing but pain and solemn thoughts. Wiping away her tears with obvious aggression, she whimpered. “A-Allison, I-I can’t do this without you..I-I can’t l-live without you...” She managed to say before sobbing into her legs. (Y/n) wrapped her arms around her legs, pulling them closer to her to make herself feel small, attempting to block the pain out. All of a sudden, two pairs of hands wrapped around her. She’d know those hands anywhere. Stiles and Scott. Her best friends, practically since birth. 

Stiles nudged her ever so slightly so that she would rest her head on his chest. Scott sat on the other side, hugging her waist somewhat awkwardly. She sobbed harder than ever, clutching onto the boys with a death tight grip, afraid she’d lose them too. “Is all of this worth it in the end... Fighting these heartless monster only for one of us to die.. I-I can’t do this without her..” Scott begun to weep, as well. He had attempted to contain his pain but seeing his best friend hurt so much, it reminded him of how he really felt. (Y/n)’s body started to shake as her voice grew unstable. “It should have been me..” The second those words left her mouth, Scott and Stiles glanced up at one another, crying aggressively. “No, (Y/n)! Don’t you dare say that! Allison shouldn’t have died but she wouldn’t have wanted to see you like this and you know that..

She would want you to smile and laugh again.. It hurts like hell that we lost her but don’t you dare think it should’ve been you. Nobody was suppose to die.. but it happened, and we can’t change that.. (Y/n), we can’t lose you and Allison wouldn’t want this..” Scott said, his voice somewhat rocky from crying. (Y/n) brushed her tears away, mumbling softly. “I-It just hurts so much..” Scott nodded, understandingly. He had just lost his first love. He had hoped they would continue their firsts and try all sorts of things. She always made him smile and now that she was gone, he understood (Y/n)’s pain. He kissed the crevace of her head, mumbling softly. “I know.. But we need to be okay.. For Allison..” Despite the pain and tears, (Y/n) nodded, gulping back the sob that started to awaken. “For Allison..” 

(I hope you liked it!!) 

[blackmeetsblond]

~ On the 12th day of Christmas

The 10 original members of Cloud and Co has assembled again along with 2 little members, and thus 12 makes a party ~

At last it was the day. Christmas. Indeed it was the busiest day of Seventh Heaven and it was amazing that Esuna could cure hangovers. If not, the group would have to suffer waiting tables and helping out with a raging headache.

Once again, they were so busy that time flew by in a blink of an eye. It was closing time and they started to clean everything up.

Without much to do left, it was time for their own Christmas party. Reeve makes his appearance as Cait Sith once again though this time, the man himself followed too.

Tables were laid and set. Tifa’s unique Christmas dinner, never shown to customers, were put out. A scrumptious feast for a reunion of friends.

There was much chatter that went on. After all, for the last couple of days, everyone was busy and dead tired that they didn’t get to talk too much.

Luckily they decided to close Seventh Heaven early for today.

Everyone updated the other about their newest adventures, sometimes reminiscing about the past and what funny things that happened. In a way this became fun bedtime stories for both Denzel and Marlene. They listened intensely to their tales until it was their bed time.

They all sure did come a long way since then.

The huge group of 12 then decided to take a nice group photo. To commemorate this very moment, a celebration.

After which, everyone got back to talking and discussing about who to share and develop the photo. While everyone was busy chatting about, making noise; Chu decided to go take a walk. Alone.

She easily and quietly slipped away from the animated group, but not without Cloud noticing of course. Chu took to the empty streets. It was cold, despite it not snowing here.

As she walked down the quiet street, she thought back. Indeed their long journey was over and they all have changed; grown, since then.

The fact that she broke the very own rule she established - to not interfere and change the world’s fate, she still did anyway. Chu had a close brush with death, being the one impaled instead of Aerith, holding onto the Black Materia so Meteor wasn’t summoned. She was so worried about how this timeline would end up. What if her interference made it worse. So many “what if”s. But things ended up well. Aerith was alive. Sephiroth, she wasn’t sure but it seems like he was defeated. Meteor wasn’t summoned but Edge was still built because the Weapon still managed to destroy ShinRa. Cloud was safe and he’s back to himself. That was all that matters.

A sudden cold tap on her shoulder made her jump. She was so deep in thought that she hasn’t noticed Cloud calling out to her.

The two walked in comfortable silence, Cloud occasionally asking what she was thinking about, where she was during her disappearance.

Right. She did die right at the final battle. And magically re-appear in this world like nothing happened.

On his bed.

That memory made her blush and she smacked his arm for making her remember.

Having walked enough, they decided to head back. What they didn’t realize was that they had been out long enough that everyone was aware and making inside jokes about their disappearance.

Some “alone time”.

Hearing their footsteps close in, everyone hid. They have heard about the story of the mistletoe and purposely placed one right above the main entrance. It was mostly Yuffie’s idea. Aerith pitched in quite a lot too.

Opening the door, Cloud was about ready to walk in until he noticed the thing that hung over the archway. He asked Chu about it.

Chu looked at him. “What? You don’t know about the mistletoe?”

Cloud shook his head. He wasn’t around when Reno was talking about it. After realizing this, Chu began to explain, trying to do so by making it as vague as possible. Even after all this time, she was still hiding from him the fact that she didn’t belong here in the sense that she isn’t of this reality, this world.

The plant was associated with some folklore where it’s a sign of love and friendship. On top of it, there was a custom where people who stood under it have to share a kiss, though not exactly the way the folklore originally was, it’s a tradition that evolved to what it is now.

Chu explained it in such a matter-of-fact way that she failed to realize that she was standing right under one and in a way, was literally inviting Cloud to do something.

The two were being played right into the pranksters’ hand.

Cloud blushed a little, rubbing the back of his neck being nervous. Kiss? Well, at least no one was around. Chu looked at him all too innocently. She’s just making this harder for him. He steeled himself. He needs to have his self control in check. Right.

Chu finally caught onto what was going on with Cloud fidgeting all over. She lightly waved her hands in front of her.

“But I mean it’s okay if you don’t-”

Her words were cut short when Cloud gently placed his hands on her cheeks. His eyes glistened and shook. He was obviously nervous but there was something hidden behind those blue hues. Cloud wanted to do this. Tradition or not. He wanted to do it.

Chu just stood there like a rock, her face so red it might as well be Rudolph’s nose. She wasn’t sure how she should react. Close her eyes? Tilt her head? Her mind in a frenzy, she just did what she could. She squeezed her eyes shut, bracing herself too. She stopped breathing waiting for that inevitable moment.

Then she felt a quick warmth come and go. On her forehead. Chu took a breath and slowly opened her eyes, her brows still knitted together as a sign of embarrassed confusion. 

Cloud hasn’t kissed her on her lips like everyone was hoping and expecting for.

No.

He simply kissed her on her forehead.

The hiding pranksters were all just groaning in displeasure at this point.

Was Cloud this dense or innocent? Doesn’t he have an ounce of need? They were exasperated. It was plainly obvious that the two loved the other but had made zero progress. It being today, Christmas, mistletoe and all, gave them all an excuse to move that relationship forward but there that goes.

The two ended up standing there for quite sometime. Both unsure as to what to do next. How do they go on from here now? Just walk it off like nothing? This is a little too much more than nothing to them.

Tifa and Cid both gave up waiting but Barret beat them to it.

“How long are you two dense blokes gonna just keep standing there letting cold air in?”

Upon realizing the presence of everyone else, Cloud quickly shut the door as a means to occupy himself and get over his thoughts. While Chu though, she was internally screaming into the void. She wanted to just squat down, curl into a ball and hide her face.

Instead, she just said she was going to bed and rushed upstairs ignoring everyone else’s protest. Though that only made matters worse as she actually sleeps in Cloud’s bedroom because there isn’t any other place she could sleep at.

The smell of him envelops her, her mind replaying the previous scene over and over. Punching pillows nor stuffing her face into one is gonna help. Chu’s mind ended up getting stuck in a dilemma. Cloud should’ve just kissed her properly. No he shouldn’t, she might have a heart attack from it. Elation mixed in with a pinch of regret.

What would have happened if the two did share a proper kiss? Who knows. And that was the end of their Christmas.

On the 1st 2nd 3rd 4th 5th 6th 7th 8th 9th 10th 11th 12th day of Christmas