#nothing is terminal. death is inevitable. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

shitsndgiggs · 30 days

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Hey! I wanted to request a arrange marriage angst Kenan Yildiz story where he hates the oc and never wanted to be with her. On the other hand the oc loved him and wanted to have a chance to get to know him and stuff but he never had time for her and always ignored her. But the oc suddenly gets cancer and doesn’t tell Kenan. She’s doesn’t have many time to live.

The oc starts to cough blood and starts to get hints of having cancer and Kenan starts to notice that too but doesn’t say anything. That’s when her death day comes.

But Kenans at football practice and doesn’t pay attention to her.

She dies without any good byes and Kenan eventually finds out. He feels regret and guilt wishing he had spend more time with her.

Angst no fluff please!! I’d really appreciate it if you wrote something like that !! 💓💓

TAKEN MY LOVE FOR GRANTED - KENAN YILDIZ

Kenan regretting his time spent with you

Kenan Yildiz x fem! reader

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿

Y/N sat on the examination table, her legs dangling off the edge, as the cold of the sterile room seeped into her bones.

The harsh fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, casting an unforgiving glare on the room's stark white walls.

She couldn’t stop her fingers from trembling as she gripped the edge of the table, knuckles white, trying to hold herself together.

The silence in the room was deafening, broken only by the soft, rhythmic ticking of the clock on the wall.

She had been here far too long, waiting for the words that would change everything.

The doctor finally entered, his expression carefully neutral, but the sadness in his eyes gave him away. He cleared his throat, a sound that seemed to echo in the empty space between them.

“Mrs. Yildiz, we’ve received the results of your tests,” he began, his voice heavy with the weight of what he was about to say. “I’m afraid it’s not good news.”

Her heart stopped for a moment, the air leaving her lungs as if she’d been punched in the gut. She could feel her world tilting, the ground slipping out from under her feet. “What do you mean?” she managed to whisper, her voice barely audible.

The doctor’s eyes softened with pity, something that made Y/N’s stomach churn. “The scans show that the cancer has progressed… it’s advanced, and… I’m so sorry, but it’s terminal.”

Y/N’s vision blurred as tears welled up, spilling over before she could even process what he’d said. Terminal. The word echoed in her mind, bouncing around like a cruel taunt.

Her body began to shake uncontrollably, the sobs tearing through her as she covered her mouth with her hand, trying to stifle the sounds of her heart breaking into a million pieces.

She wasn’t ready. She didn’t want to die, not like this, not so soon. She had so much left to do, so much she hadn’t experienced. And Kenan…

Kenan. The thought of him sent another wave of pain crashing over her. How would he react? Would he even care? He’d never wanted this marriage, had never shown her anything but indifference, but a part of her had always hoped… hoped that one day he’d look at her with something other than resentment.

The doctor continued speaking, his voice a distant murmur as he explained the treatment options that wouldn’t save her, only prolong the inevitable.

Y/N nodded numbly, her mind somewhere else, lost in a sea of despair. All she could think about was Kenan—how he would never know how much she loved him, how much she wanted to be by his side, how she had dreamed of a life with him that was now nothing more than a fading fantasy.

The doctors didn’t give her much time. She was terrified, not of dying, but of leaving this world without ever having touched Kenan’s heart.

But she chose to keep it a secret. He already resented her enough; she didn’t want to burden him with her illness. She endured the pain alone, her body slowly betraying her.

She became weaker, paler, thinner. Yet, she never faltered in her resolve to protect him from the truth.

Kenan noticed the changes, of course. How could he not? The dark circles under her eyes, the way she moved slower, the way her once vibrant voice became softer, more strained. But he never asked, never probed.

To him, it was just another phase, another reason to keep his distance.

——

Kenan stood in the doorway of their shared apartment, his eyes cold, his jaw set in a hard line as he glanced at Y/N. “I’m going to be late for practice,” he muttered, grabbing his bag from the counter without sparing her a second glance.

Y/N stood in the kitchen, a glass of water in her hand, the pills she was supposed to take burning a hole in her palm.

She had hidden her condition from him for as long as she could, knowing that telling him would only make things worse.

He didn’t want her, didn’t care about her, and the last thing she wanted was to burden him with the knowledge that she was dying.

“Kenan…” she began, her voice trembling, but he cut her off with a sharp look.

“What is it now?” he snapped, his patience clearly worn thin. “Another complaint? Another plea for attention? I don’t have time for this, Y/N.”

Her heart clenched at his words, the familiar sting of rejection piercing through her already fragile state.

She swallowed the lump in her throat, forcing herself to stay calm. “I… I just wanted to say I love you,” she whispered, her voice barely above a whisper.

Kenan froze, his expression faltering for a brief moment before he quickly masked it with indifference. “Yeah, well… I’ll see you later,” he muttered, brushing past her as he headed for the door.

He never saw the tears in her eyes as she watched him walk out the door, and he didn’t see the way her hand clutched at her side as pain wracked her body.

That was the last time she saw him. That afternoon, the pain became too much. She collapsed in their home, alone, struggling to breathe as her vision blurred.

She knew it was the end, and a part of her was relieved.

She wouldn’t have to suffer any longer, wouldn’t have to endure the silent rejection that had defined her last days.

She was taken to the hospital, but she made it clear that no one was to contact Kenan. She didn’t want him to see her like this. She didn’t want his pity or his regret.

She wanted him to remember her as she had been, not as the broken shell of a woman she had become.

Her vision blurred as she closed her eyes, tears slipping down her cheeks as she whispered a final goodbye to the man she had loved more than life itself.

——

Kenan was in the middle of practice when his phone buzzed in his pocket. He ignored it at first, focused on the game, but something gnawed at him, a sense of unease that he couldn’t shake.

When the coach finally called for a break, he pulled out his phone, his heart dropping when he saw the missed calls from the hospital.

Panic set in as he dialed the number, his hands shaking. The moment the doctor’s voice came through the line, his world shattered.

"Mr. Yildiz, I’m so sorry to inform you that your wife, Y/N, has passed away. She was brought in earlier today, but there was nothing we could do. It appears she had been battling cancer for some time."

Kenan’s heart stopped. He stood frozen, the world around him crumbling as the reality of what he had just heard sank in. Cancer? She was sick?

How could she have been sick, and he didn’t know? How could she have been dying, and he was too blind, too selfish to notice?

The guilt hit him like a freight train, crashing into him with an unbearable weight. His mind replayed every moment, every harsh word, every cold shoulder.

He could have helped her. He could have been there for her. But instead, he had turned his back, driven by his own anger and resentment.

He rushed to the hospital, desperate to see her, but when he arrived, it was too late. Her body was there, pale and still, but the light, the life that had always clung to him, no matter how much he pushed her away, was gone.

He fell to his knees beside her, tears streaming down his face as the realization of what he had lost overwhelmed him.

He had never wanted her, but now, in this cruel twist of fate, he realized she was the one thing he needed most. And now she was gone.

The last words he had said to her played over and over in his mind, each repetition cutting deeper than the last. She said she loved him, and he had walked away without a second thought.

"I’m sorry," he whispered through his tears, his voice breaking. "I’m so sorry, Y/N."

Kenan buried his face in his hands, the tears streaming down his cheeks as the reality of what he had lost finally hit him.

She was gone, and it was all his fault. He had wasted the time he had with her, and now he would have to live with the regret and guilt for the rest of his life.

——

Kenan stood at the edge of the grave, his eyes red and swollen from crying, his heart heavy with grief.

He watched as the casket was lowered into the ground, the finality of it all crushing him. He felt like he was suffocating, like the walls were closing in around him.

The priest said a few final words, but Kenan couldn’t hear them. All he could think about was Y/N—how she had loved him, how she had tried to reach out to him, and how he had pushed her away.

He would never forgive himself for what he had done, for the way he had treated her.

As the crowd began to disperse, Kenan stayed behind, staring down at the grave. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice broken. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. I never… I never meant for this to happen.”

But his words fell on deaf ears, the only response the cold wind that swept through the cemetery, carrying away the last remnants of the life they could have had together.

And as Kenan stood there, alone and consumed by guilt, he knew that he would never find peace, not as long as he lived.

The memory of Y/N, of the love he had taken for granted, would haunt him forever.

#football imagine #football x reader #turkiye #kenan yildiz x reader #kenan yildiz

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lovecoredeity · 11 days

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━━━✥♡ Cashmere Pashmina Arum Heartfilia ♡✥━━━

Announcing the arrival of the youngest Heartfilia child and the Heartfilia family’s biggest disappointment, Cashmere Pashmina Arum Heartfilia! Shortly after her birth it was revealed that Cashmere was of sickly health due to her heart rejecting the magic running through her veins. Neither Cake nor Conquest wanted to acknowledge or accept the severity of Cashmere’s condition so rather than seeking treatment for her ailment, they taught her not to show any signs of illness and instead raised their expectations for her higher, even higher than they had her elder siblings. Cashmere spent her life striving to become perfect, she excelled at everything that she was taught from etiquette to language and the arts and even magic! Cashmere performed magic beautifully and was thought to be a gifted sorcerer just like the rest of her family! Unfortunately no amount of feigned ignorance could delay the inevitable, Cashmere’s constant use of magic had taken its toll on her heart and on her 18th birthday succumbed to her terminal heart condition and died a tragic and avoidable death. How strange that shortly after her death she would open her eyes as if nothing had happened.

❥ Additional fun fact #1! Cashmere (and the rest of her siblings) magic comes from her mother’s side of the family, her father is magic deficient!

❥ Additional fun fact #2! Throughout society Cashmere is referred to as “Porcelain Princess” or “The Porcelain Doll of the Crystal Empire” the palace she resides in has also been nicknamed “The Porcelain Palace” or “Cashmere’s Dollhouse” though these names all sound lovely they all stemmed from mean nicknames given to Cashmere by her older sister, Calliope! Thankfully Calliope’s harsher nicknames for her haven’t caught on!

♡ if you like my art please consider buying me a kofi ♡

#deity’s doodles #artists on tumblr #my art #d&d #dnd #dungeons & dragons #dungeons and dragons #d&d ocs #dnd ocs #character design #cashmere #cashmere heartfilia #time for my specialist oc whom I adore so much <3

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jungk0oksthighs · 2 years

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Pi Gasu | When Two Become One

Pairing - jungkook x reader

Genre - smut, angst, E2L, vampire!jungkook

Word Count - 8k

Jungkook has been keeping you close upon the revelation about the Pi Gasu curse. Warnings: swearing, mentions of death, terminal illness, unintentional violence / injury description, explicit sexual content, painful sex, biting, heavy angst

SERIES MASTERLIST

Being cursed for death doesn’t seem too far afield from what’s written for everybody in this world. People breathe, sleep, eat, breed and eventually they wither and die. Of course there are vices that consume humanity between its beginning and end. Drugs, alcohol, lying, cheating, stealing, fucking everything with a pulse in a three hundred mile radius. And that’s only to name a few.

Death is inevitable for every living, breathing thing. One way or another life ends. No matter how beautifully written the book, or in spite of the end being premature, or even how peaceful the final chapter may be. That’s exactly what it is – a finale. Everything else is irrelevant in that moment. The sins, the celebrations, all the regrets and false promises truly mean nothing when it’s time to close the book.

We’re all born to die.

But to die before you’ve really lived? It’s pitiful. You don’t have a vice, there’s no morally grey area that intrigues you. Well maybe there is one. It’s tall, dark and sinisterly handsome with a knack for taking your breath away whenever it speaks in romance riddles. Whenever it embraces you you’re left wordless, and on the rare occasion it’s lips have moulded against yours it’s enough to consume every fibre of your being.

Unfortunately for you, it’s the same vice you’ve been staying with for almost three weeks now.

The curse of the Pi Gasu has plagued your thoughts ever since Jungkook told you about it. How you and your twin brother Eddie are cursed. How your biological father was a vampire. How Eddie’s terminal illness is nothing more than a transition into immortality. And how his transition will only be completed the moment you die. So it’s all real, the scary monsters and spooky tales. The vampires, werewolves and demons. The witchcraft, the potions and curses. It’s been a rough couple of weeks for you hiding out in Jungkook’s house that’s for damn sure.

Which leaves the question: why are you hiding out in his house?

It was something the monster in question deemed necessary, now that he knows the truth of your linage he wants to protect you from vampires. As Eddie’s transition painfully drags itself to almost completion, your scent has only grown all the more enticing to the undead.

The Pi Gasu curse births a born predator, a powerful vampire, and when the DNA splits itself in the womb the other twin, the human twin, is cursed for a short-lived life plagued with the unwanted art of seduction. Everything about you mesmerises a vampire, securing your death and completing Eddie’s transition into eternal darkness. Restoring the balance in the world, one death for immortal life.

It’s been unbearable for both you and Jungkook to be around each other as your scent flourishes, drowning him, so much so that you’re staying in a small spare bedroom on the highest floor away from his choice of bedroom – the basement.

It's decorated nicely, the bedroom you’re staying in, as is the rest of his home. Plain and simple, added touch of personality. Almost like he saw the room in a catalogue and thought; 'that's what humans live like, I'll copy it.'

You’ve been in the basement many times, hell he’s nearly taken you to heaven and back again within those walls on multiple occasions when you used to fool around together. But it’s out of bounds right now, for no reason other than your safety. You know that he’s insisting you stay here for your own good, to stay alive, because he’s told you that he needs more time. More time to find a cure for the Pi Gasu curse, but so far his efforts have been futile.

Of course there was the spark of hope that perhaps if you turned into a vampire, Eddie would be saved and you could avoid being buried deep in the earth or being scattered in the sky. However, after much researching Jungkook and his for lack of better word friends Taehyung, Seokjin, Jimin and Namjoon all found no evidence to support the theory.

Apparently Jungkook isn’t willing to risk it regardless, he shut you down very quickly when you asked him to turn you. And not just because it’s illegal, but because he doesn’t want that life for you. He’s determined to find another way. And as you’re currently cooped up in his home asking any of the other vampires you know through association to turn you is somewhat impossible.

“Maybe I should just ask him to get this over with and kill me already.” You whisper at your reflection in the mirror, brushing out your wet freshly-showered hair.

That’s the inevitable, right? You’re going to die anyway so what’s the use in prolonging it? Eddie will be saved, Jungkook won’t have to fear that you’ve been found and killed by a vampire every damn day. It’s been a few days since you’ve even seen Jungkook’s face, usually he knocks on the bedroom door to let you know there’s food waiting for you before disappearing into the basement. It must be becoming a chore for him to take care of you like this, as much as it’s becoming a chore for you to stay put and wait for a miracle. You’re bored, broken and ready to face reality.

You were born to die.

Slowly, you push the bedroom door open, contrasting against the quickening of your beating heart. You’ve given him time and he’s found no cure. You’re ready to embrace death if it means your brother can be saved.

Skin still damp from the hot shower you cling onto the small towel that barely covers your modesty, making your way downstairs in his eerily homely home. It’s warm, as it has been throughout your stay here. Usually he would never feel the need to turn on the heating, but with a human under his roof he’s grown considerate of your comfort. Jungkook’s basically doing what he can to keep you alive, all while staying well out of your way and in turn not killing you himself.

Before you even have chance to call out his name in the open living area, he’s resting against the doorway in front of you – like he sensed you coming. Water beads trickle down your exposed skin when you stand completely still, frozen, staring at the vampire who’s hellbent on protecting your soul.

Jungkook swallows, wetting his lips all while his eyes slide over your body and drink in what you’re wearing. Well, what you’re not wearing. Unlike you he’s fully clothed, a shimmering red bomber jacket thrown over a zebra print sheer shirt that hangs just over his black belt. All tied together with ripped black jeans and bare feet. His disregard for colour palettes or themes when it comes to fashion choices never fails to amuse you. No human would ever dress like that.

“Did you need something?” His voice is flat, unreadable, much like the expression blanketing his sharp profile that’s only softened by the wavy locks of raven hair tickling his thick brows, “Are you out of clean clothes?”

“No… I just-, I just wanted to see you I guess.” You sigh absentmindedly, shaking some excess water from your hair, “It’s pretty lonely up there.”

The look on Jungkook’s face is nothing short of pained when his eyes squeeze shut, he looks almost guilty before he pinches the bridge of his nose, “Y/N… I’m sorry. But it’s for your own safety.”

“You’ve never hurt me before.” You mumble, averting his gaze.

And he hasn’t. Initially when you first met Jungkook all those months ago you were terrified of him and the prospect of what he could do to you. He’s strong, a lot stronger than a regular bitten vampire, he’s a Pi Gasu vampire, much like your brother he was born for this life. It’s in his veins and always has been. Even before his twin sister died and secured his place in the immortal world, the monster he became lingered beneath the surface. Waiting. Begging to be freed.

But then you got to know Jungkook on a personal level, and he would do anything to keep you safe. The fact you’re standing in his house proves the fact on some level, despite having no soul, he does care about you. There have been moments together, heated moments, moments that will last an eternity in his mind, where he could’ve succumb to his inner demon and blood lust. But he didn't.

Jungkook’s features soften upon meeting your eyes, his doe-like eyes may be crimson red in colour but they’re swimming with emotion, enough to make you drown in them, “Truthfully I don’t know what’s worse,” He frowns, pierced lips parted, “Staying away from you makes me crave you more, but being near you…”

“Makes you want to kill me.” You clear your throat, somewhat overwhelmed by his presence.

A while ago he’d asked you if you believe in fate, soulmates, convinced that you and he were tied by the beauty of the moon. But as you watch the man in front of you physically struggle to breathe around you, you’re reminded that it’s nothing more than the curse of the Pi Gasu.

The corners of his lips quirk up into a soft smile, “It’s not the curse.” His voice is low, it’s still equal parts infuriating and endearing that he can read your thoughts and you’ll never get used to it. “You’re… It’s…. It’s more than that. If I were only interested in you because of the curse you would’ve been dead a long time ago. The curse complicates things, but, well…”

“Maybe it’d be better for everyone if I just died already and got this over with.” You chuckle, while you’re trying to ease the budding tension with a joke at your own expense it’s obvious Jungkook doesn’t see the funny side. His frown deepens, a small hum escaping him.

“Is that how you really feel?”

“I’m just saying…” You sigh, squeezing the towel wrapping your body a little tighter, “Eddie will transition into a vampire, he won’t be in pain anymore… And you won’t have to waste time searching for a miracle. You can go back to your normal life before we met—”

“My time will never be wasted when spent on you.” He takes a step forward, surprising you, his jaw clenched so tight you wonder if vampire bones are capable of shattering, “If it takes me forever to find a cure then so be it, I’m not prepared to let you die.”

You try to reason with him, shuffling a cautious step in his direction, “I don’t want my brother to be in pain anymore, if dying is the only way—”

“I’m not going to let that happen!” The projection of his voice startles you, but not as much as the loud bang followed by bricks crumbling around his feet after he punches the door frame does. You stare at him wide-eyed and frightened, unable to peer away from the way his chest heaves up and down with each angry breath. “I need more time… I’ll find a way.”

At this you lose it, laughing humourlessly before you match his volume and rage, “There isn’t another way Jungkook! You’ve tried!” You rush over to him, until you’re in arms-length distance and being mindful not to step in the aftermath of his temper, “I can’t live like this anymore, knowing that it’s hurting my brother… I just-, I want this to be over with. I’m ready.” You sigh, eyes fluttering shut. It’s such a relief to say that out loud.

Jungkook swallows, dark eyes zoned in on your face, “Well I’m not ready to lose you Y/N.”

“It has to be this way, to save my brother.”

“I'm not letting you go, not yet. You have no idea how long I’ve waited for you,” He begins, trembling tattooed hands gently finding purchase on your bare shoulders, “You’re the poem the universe wrote only for me.”

A tiny gasp betrays you when his inked fingers find your chin, tilting your face up to meet his. It’s indescribable how beautiful the man is standing before you, even in his human life he must’ve been the most handsome person around. His eyes are dark in colour, framed by even darker delicate lashes. The pits of your stomach ignite with desire, along with an uncontrollable need to be closer to him. A pull so inhumane and sewn deep into your soul that you struggle to compare it to anything you’ve ever experienced. It's Jungkook’s breath warm against your lips that breaks you from the trance, gazing up at him with big eyes.

“I know you feel this too… This comfort, this desire…” He whispers, until his lips are a hair away from yours, his own eyes sliding shut, “The ache in your heart, is my promise to you that this is more than the curse. You belong with me.”

“Then change me.” You plead quietly, cupping his angled jaw with your hands, “There’s no way to beat the curse, if it’s death that completes his transition… Technically I’ll be dead. Change me.”

“There’s no guarantee it’ll save you brother, there’s no guarantee you’ll even survive it… There’s no evidence of a Pi Gasu twin being turned. It’s too risky. Your life isn’t something I’m willing to take chances on.”

You sigh again, pressing your forehead to his, “Please, Jungkook.”

“You may have nothing to lose, but if we do this I’ll lose everything.” His whisper comes with his arms snaking round your back, pressing your body to his own. “If you die—”

“We don’t know that I won’t survive it,” You hold his face tighter, silently begging him to grant this wish for you, “I can’t tolerate the thought of my life causing my brother pain anymore. Please, for me, please. It will work—”

“Do you realise what you’re asking of me?” He bites, and for a split second you swear you see his chin quiver. “I could never forgive myself if it didn’t work, if you died before I had the chance to really be with you.”

His admission sends a rush of guilt over you, you are asking a lot of him but there is no other way. He’s searched, his friends have searched, and no cure has been found. If you’re going to die regardless, at least it won’t be in vain.

“Then be with me.” You whisper, “Take me, however you want me, have me.” You kiss his cheek, not missing the way his hold of you grows stronger.

“It’s too dangerous.” His face his scrunched tightly, as though he’s having a difficult time being so close to you. Where his skin is usually ice cold his cheeks feel flushes beneath your palms, “If I lose control, even for a second…”

“You won’t.” You hush his concerns, thumbs tracing back and forth on his skin in an attempt to comfort him, “And if you do… You could change me. This will work, I promise.”

"What if it doesn't?" He whispers back.

"But what if it does?"

Large palms make their way up your back until they find purchase in your damp hair, and at that exact moment nothing else in the world matters. It’s both a blessing and a curse to feel for each other so deeply, so unwaveringly, that when his lips find yours you simultaneously feel broken and complete all at once. When he kisses you you’re left breathless, haphazardly grabbing at his body to get impossibly closer to him, something he reciprocates wordlessly.

Jungkook’s hands are all over your frame, his lips crushing yours hard enough to bruise, with such urgency it makes your head spin. It doesn’t take you long to slide his jacket from his broad shoulders, messily clawing down his back when his tongue elegantly glides into your mouth and dances with your own. You stand there for some time, embracing each other, kissing as though it’s the last time, choking on the thick sea of words neither of you are too brave to speak.

It's then that you’re being whisked downstairs faster than you can humanly process. Your back hits the mattress on the large bed centred in the basement, Jungkook’s body atop of your own and strong arms caging you in. His lips never leaving yours, kissing you with so much yearning and lust that it’s enough to make you feel as though you’re the only two people in the world. When your arms reach out to his shirt buttons the towel you’re wearing falls open, revealing your entirely naked body underneath him.

The scent of your exposed flesh must’ve been like heat from a foreign country smacking Jungkook straight in the face when stepping off a plane. He pulls back ever so slightly, calming himself, steadying his breathing while burying his face into the crook of your neck.

“I want you to know…” He exhales, voice thickened by bloodlust and greed, “That whatever happens, if this doesn’t work… In my own way, in my own morbid, sinister and selfish way. Not once in my centuries of existing have I ever felt this way about anyone.”

“Jungkook…” You whimper beneath him, ridding him of his thin shirt. You'd almost forgotten about the countless tattoos decorating his physique. The dark sleeves, the intricate artwork littering his entire body. The muscles on his body. He really is breath taking.

“To know you is to love you Y/N.”

Wet kisses smother your neck, filled with emotion and truths untold that have you sighing in bliss. He’s omnipresent, you can feel him in every inch of your body, his voice haunting your thoughts and his touch burning your flesh. His tongue glides over a sensitive spot on your neck and that’s when you feel his fangs, sharp and threatening, scratching the spot through the kisses. Jungkook’s movements grow more frantic, his mouth lapping up your taste before he hisses against you, shaking his head of the intrusive thoughts.

“It’s okay…” You whisper, “It’s okay… You won’t hurt me, I trust you.”

You feel his small smile against you, “A foolish mistake on your part.”

With your earlobe pinched between his teeth he rests his weight on one arm, snaking the other down to cup your breast. When his thumb grazes your nipple you both groan, overwhelmed by lust. Every nerve in your body is aflame, singing a song written for only Jungkook to hear. When his hand travels further down your bare body, until his fingers toy with your folds you lose all sense of who you are.

“Please,” You beg shamelessly, “Please touch me.”

“Once I start I won’t be able to stop Y/N,” Where his whispered warning should bring you to your senses, it does nothing save for fuel the burning desire in your body, “Being… Intimate with a vampire, it’s-, it’s not going to be like it is in the movies. It’s rough, it’s painful and it will hurt. Are you sure you want this?”

“I’m sure,” You nod along a little too eagerly, ready to be thrown into the volcano. “Come here…” You gently grip his head and tug his neck to your lips, peppering the clammy skin with lewd kisses, “Can I-, um…”

For the first time in a while you hear him chuckle, his white smile so boyish and bright you almost miss the threat of his predatory fangs completely, “You can. Don’t hold back, get a good amount of blood in case this ends badly. Bite me like your life depends on it.”

Because it does.

With a lot of effort your teeth sink into his flesh and the familiar taste of iron coats your tongue. It’s not pleasurable, not for a human, to taste blood. But the moment is intimate, like you’re tasting the forbidden fruit you’ve been told to avoid your whole life. You’ve tasted his blood before when you fooled around, mostly because he didn’t want to hurt you and knew a drop of his blood would help repair any injuries sustained. But this time it's different, this really may be your last night with him if things turn sour.

Soon your biting turns to kisses and Jungkook lowers his lips to the shell of your ear, his voice raspy yet serious, “Are you sure about this?”

“Positive.” You murmur against his skin, jaw falling slack with a gasp upon the sensation of his nimble fingers drawing firm circles over your sensitive area.

It’s euphoric, the feeling of coming undone beneath a monster you’ve lusted for since the moment you met him. Your body caged under his, his muscles sheltering you from the outside world. Like a rose guarded by it’s thorns, two halves a whole, neither one existing without the other. And as his ministrations grow more deliberate, dipping into where you crave him most, the rose begins to shed it’s petals. Layers of doubt, fear, uncertainty, falling onto the bedsheets with your discarded towel. Walls crumbling, only leaving the part of your soul that yearns for more. Your body language is something he is fluent in, understanding completely what you want and how to give it to you.

As you watch him slither down the sheets, until his face is buried into the plump flesh of your thigh, you feel like you’re falling. But he doesn’t let you touch the ground, catching you, he takes a deep breath through flared nostrils to steady himself before heavy eyes flicker to your face. Perhaps the most sinful feature of human nature is to give what we most wish to receive, and in this moment the only thing clouding the limited space between your bodies is the mutual need for intimacy.

To be loved.

Jungkook’s losing his mind, every ounce of self-restraint slowly dissipating into the carnal desire to claim you. To make you his in every sense of the word, until your minds, bodies and souls are eternally intertwined. His bare chest rises and falls in rhythm with your pounding heart, the scent of you flooding every sense he possess. Subconsciously his jaw tightens upon seeing your wet pussy shimmer in the dim lighting of the basement. The monster inside him has never been so painfully close to the surface in your presence, it’s a battle he knows he’ll ultimately lose and the neediness smothering your pretty features is far from helping the situation.

Open-mouthed kisses guide him to your swollen clit, where he takes it between his lips and begins to lap it up with a flattened tongue, sucking and licking until you’re writhing on the bed in equal parts shock and desperation.

“Fuck… Jung-, hnnng.” You moan breathlessly, feeling akin to being on cloud fucking nine, body tingling in every way imaginable. His licking grows heavier, more determined and erratic, barely giving you time to even out your unsteady breaths, “Shit, Jungkook.” You mewl, pushing your hips up to meet his greedy mouth.

His muscular arms sling themselves under your thighs, a bruising grip on your hips when he drags you closer to his face, the bend of his nose now flat against your core. You're no match for the shapes he's creating with his tongue. you don't stand a change against the harsh sucks and groans he's delivering. It’s as if he’s enjoying this equally as much as you, thick brows pinched in concentration while the hold he has on your bones turns painful. Hearing you cry out from the combination of pain and pleasure only spurs him on more, smothering himself between your legs where he eats you out so ravenously your legs twitch and tremble either side of his face.

“Jungk-, ohhh…” Your eyes glide back into your skull, hands roughly and quickly finding their way into the depths of his raven hair. With urgency you push his bangs away from his face to get a better view of the unholy display unfolding before your very eyes.

The dark veins framing his hooded gaze should deter you, turn you off, make you scream for an entirely different reason. But they don’t. In spite the noticeable bruising around his eye sockets, drawing attention to the beast inside him, you’ve never wanted him more.

It’s when he looks up at you that you realise exactly what he was referring to earlier. Despite having consumed his blood the strength he’s grabbing your body with hurts. You’re frowning, lips ajar to allow your shallow breaths and quiet whimpers escape freely. The pain is soon forgotten about when Jungkook hisses against you, sucking in a sharp breath before diving right back in, visibly losing control.

We don’t fall in love with the pure intentions in people, we fall in love with the darkness we recognise in others. From the moment your eyes met his, you knew there was something inside his demonic stare that felt like home. It’s all overwhelming, contradicting, confusing, but boy is it addicting.

It’s a stab to the heart and being brought back to life in the same moment, knowing it hurts but unable to pinpoint where. Just knowing you want more of it, until you’re gasping for air and drowning in the sea of possibilities. Further proving that if it doesn’t hurt, ache and bleed, it’s not love; and the way he holds your body strong enough to break it has you finally making sense of the term ‘to love someone to death’.

“Jungkook… I’m-,” You pant, tugging and pulling his hair, “I’m close. Please…” Your body shakes and jolts with ecstasy, the fire in your stomach never burning hotter. The pornographic sounds of him savouring every drop of arousal you’re giving him floods your ears, fogs your mind and throws you head first over the edge.

“Fuck! I’m coming! I’m coming! Don’t stop!”” You gasp, back arching from the sheets, hands flying to your scalp to helplessly tug your hair.

Your frame is punched with the most intense orgasm you’ve ever had, pulsating with pleasure that comes in white-hot waves. Had Jungkook been human the way you’re pressing your thighs together from the overstimulation would have his eyes pop out his skull. Instead his face stays there, stare hungrily dragging itself up and down the spans of your sweaty body. His movements slow into an eventual nothing, aiding you ride out your high, until he’s suddenly above you, crashing his face to yours in a bloodthirsty kiss.

“Take more,” He orders, craning his neck to give you easier access to where you bit him previously, “I’m-, have more. Please. I’m not gonna be able to hold back much longer, I don’t want to hurt you.” The genuine pain weaved into his words sparks a panic inside you, this is him holding back? You think about how tightly he held you, how your bones almost crumbled beneath his fingertips. So you do as he says, biting him again until a soft moan emits from his pierced lips and catches you off guard.

“If this is too much for you…” You say quietly, guilt eroding your insides, “We don’t-, I don’t want you to feel like you have to do this for me. If you’re not having a good time—”

You’re cut short by the sound of Jungkook’s breathy laughter, sounding disbelieved. He meets your eye contact with a smirk, still panting for air, “How can I put this to you?” He’s laughing, wetting his lips between smiles, “To call what we’ve just done ‘a good time’ is a fucking insult. I’ve never felt seduction like this, I want to have you, to take you, to consume you in every way imaginable until you’re mine.” There’s a possessiveness to his tone, one what reignites the fire of passion.

“I’m already yours.” You whisper, in what feels like a very profound moment where time itself comes to a halt.

Jungkook stills, swallowing the needy noises that threaten to betray him when you start kissing his neck again, softly, featherlight, showing him no fear or hesitation. You want this, just as much as he does, “Everything I am, everything I have to give, is yours Y/N.”

And just like that he’s kissing you again, feverishly, hopelessly, like a love sick fool glutton for punishment.

The tension picks up quickly, atmosphere shifting into something more sinister as Jungkook begins to lose his resolve. His body is tense, jaw tight, eyes slid shut and white teeth bared in a threatening snarl against your cheek. A hand reaches out to the wooden bedframe to steady himself, but instead it crumbles between his fingertips and he has no choice but to keep himself still to stay calm.

“Are you okay?” You peer up at him, expression innocent yet screaming concern.

Jungkook growls, he knew this moment would happen sooner or later but he doesn’t have time to dwell on the specifics. When his eyes lock with yours they’re deep red, rich, oozing lust, a born predator stalking his prey.

“You’re mine.”

A moment later he’s shed of any clothing, hovering above you, chest heaving up and down while panting for air. Your scent is everywhere, it’s enough to make his eyes roll back into his skull when he bites his bottom lip hard enough to draw blood. The tattoos, the muscles, the bumps and bends of his body have you silently pleading for him to take you, it’s the last thing Jungkook sees in your eyes before the monster inside finally takes over.

The lust that overcomes a vampire when aroused is like nothing any human would understand. The need, the urgency, the craving that weighs down their limbs and clouds their judgement. Any rational thinking dissolves quickly and the frenzy kicks in strong. With flared nostrils and unsteady deep breaths he lines his cock up to your entrance, hands trembling with anticipation and greed.

“Take me Jungkook,” Your voice is like that of an angel’s when it lands on his ears, quiet and calm, “I’m yours.”

With that statement your walls struggle to accommodate the size of his length as he pushes into you, the two of you groaning and gasping at the new mind-blowing sensation. Your hands are pinned above your head, held in place by the bone crushing grip Jungkook has on them with one hand, the other pawing at your left breast while his tongue finds your other nipple, swirling against it hungrily.

“Fuck!” You cry, never feeling so full in your life, “Jungkook… Oh my-, oh-, nnngh.” You whine pathetically between tiny breaths. You were warned that being intimate with a vampire was no easy feat, you knew it would hurt, and yet you’re still surprised at just how much it hurts.

“Who do you belong to?” Jungkook growls against your skin, pulling back his hips until he’s almost fully out of you before slamming himself back inside. Your organs already feel bruised, bones aching, head spinning. Yet there’s something tremendously addicting and pleasurable behind the pain.

“Y-you.” You hiss.

The roll of his hips is already overbearing, physically and emotionally pushing you to your limits. With each feral thrust you feel weaker, legs shaking in time with your pants for air. You’ve never given much thought to why mating with a vampire is illegal, Jungkook had explained to you that it’s extremely dangerous and the repercussions of these actions. Yet to experience it first hand is another thing entirely. The stretch is almost too much to handle, so much so that you shriek when you’re equally blessed and cursed by a particularly harsh thrust.

“Aaah!” Your eyes squeeze shut, mirroring the way your walls tighten around the girth currently stuffing you senseless.

“Fuck. Oh fuck.” You barely register the words lost to the sound of his moans and groans against your flesh, too caught up in your own self-awareness and thoughts. This is really happening, you’re fucking Jungkook. And Jungkook is annihilating you.

Once you’re adjusted to the brutal pace he’s set, plunging in and out of you, the pleasure slowly creeps up on you like a stalker in the night. It’s there, you can sense it, you know it’s coming and you cling onto the feeling of growing arousal inside you as a way to deal with the aches and pains spreading your frame. Focussing on how good this feels, you manage to find a sense of bliss.

As though he read your mind, Jungkook snakes a hand down your body to your clit, rubbing the area firmly to amplify the pleasure you’re feeling. The movements of his hand match the snaps of his hips. Hard, deep, inhumane, but it’s enough to regain some strength in your limbs and reignite the fire of passion in the depths of your abdomen.

“Shhh, shit-“ You choke out, completely enamoured by the sensation, “Keep going. Just like that.”

"I knew you'd be able to take me," He gasps when you clench around him again, "Fuck... Mmmph."

"Please, don't stop..." You whimper, your second high fast approaching thanks to his huge cock effortlessly brushing past your most sensitive spot with each roll of his hips, "Please."

"I could fuck you for eternity." He spits, lips tucked between his teeth while trying to remain calm, tightening the grip of your bound hands with his own, "I'm going to fuck you for eternity baby. Every night, mmmph, forever."

"Forever." Your voice is barely audible over Jungkook's loud moans every time he fucks into you, the sound alone sparking a whole new wave of need inside you.

“You’re mine,” He reiterates between ragged breaths, “All fucking mine.”

“All yours.” You sigh, growing hotter and sweatier all while being drilled into the mattress beneath you, “I’m all yours, and you’re mine.”

And that he is. He’s spent the last eight centuries guarding his heart, guarding it so viciously that others questioned if he even had one. It may not beat, it may not pump blood through his body, it may not work at all. But even then, in its broken, shabby, moth-eaten and frozen state. It belongs to you. Each part of his being, both man and beast, is undeniably, unfathomably, and uncontrollably yours.

He can’t blame the curse for his feelings, the fact alone that you make him capable of feeling anything is all the proof he needs that you’re his mate. His true mate. Just because you’re a Pi Gasu, a blood singer, doesn’t mean the emotions surging his core aren’t real. He’s fucking you hard enough to break you, to kill you, if it were nothing more than the curse drawing him to you he would’ve bitten and drained you by now, he's being intimate with you because he wants to.

Therein lies the biggest mistake Jungkook could’ve ever made. With your naked, exposed, vulnerable body quivering beneath him – he thinks about your blood. The romantic taste it leaves on his tongue, the thick scent of it flooding this entire room, his nostrils, how your arousal makes it sweeter…

“Jungkook, oh my—” You whine, muffling your shy moans behind your teeth that are sunken into your lips.

Without warning the grip he has of your hands tightens again, and your eyes fly open in a panic when you hear, when you feel the bones in your fingers snap. You stare at Jungkook, dumbfounded, in a state of shock. But he’s too zoned in on your neck to notice your features, he hasn’t registered what’s just happened despite the fact your fingers are like putty in his hands. His grip tightens once more, this time your wrist shatters like the bedframe did earlier, and you can’t help but scream.

"Ahh!"

“Shit shit shit, fuck!” Jungkook snaps out of his daze, face full of horror upon seeing what he’s done, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry!” In a frenzy of contradicting emotion he takes his hand away from your wrist, grabbing your hip to still your bodies – except the pressure from his vice-like hold is strong enough to crush your bones.

“Ahh—!” You’re coughing, spluttering, crying when it feels as though your hipbone has been ground down to dust and popped out of socket, paralysed with pain. “Jungkoo-, plea-, stop.” You choke, and the red tinge to his eyes quickly fades into chocolate brown. He raises his shaky hands to prove to you he’s not going to touch you, withdrawing himself from your body entirely.

“I-, Y/N… I’m sorry. I-, I lost it… Fuck, I’m s—”

“It hurts-, it-, it hurts.” You sob, physically incapable of moving your broken body on the bed, “Please… M-make it stop!” You’re roaring inconsolably, which tugs on the vampire’s heart strings a lot harsher than he’d prepared for. Nothing could’ve prepared him for seeing you in this much agony, nothing could’ve prepared you for feeling this much agony.

“I'll make it stop,” He nods once, twice, three times to syke himself up, “This is going to hurt, but it’ll take away the pain soon I promise.” With your eyes squeezed shut you manage to nod at him, giving him the only confirmation he needed to lower his lips to your jugular.

It’s a bittersweet moment for him, finally having the consent to bite you. But at what cost? He hurt you, something he’d promised himself he’d never do. And biting you now, after you’ve consumed his blood is going to change the course of your life forever. That’s if it even works… It should’ve prevented your bones from breaking, but it didn’t. Shaking the intrusive thoughts from his mind he kisses your neck tenderly, fluttering his eyes shut as mutual greed and despair takes over his immortal being.

“I’m sorry.” He whispers, before plunging his sharp fangs into the supple skin of your neck as easy as a blade through soft butter.

The second your blood stains his tongue, it’s over. Not just for your mortality, your soul, but for Jungkook too. It was one thing to drink your blood from the donation vials you’d gifted him previously, but to feast on you in such an intimate way in such a sacred moment is unbearable. He grips your body tightly, shattering a few of your ribs in the process to tug you even closer, all while his eyes roll into the back of his skull. You taste like every sonnet ever written, like every genuine smile you’ve ever gifted him, he’s never tasted such romance that it’s impossible for him to stop.

“Jungkook…” You’re growing weaker by the moment, the agony broken bones forgotten about, replaced by a searing hot pain on your neck that makes you want to shriek and sob. Except you’re too frail to move, to complain, instead having to take the hurt for what it is and pray that it’s over soon.

“Jung-,” You’re lightheaded, rapidly emptying of blood as your eyelids grow heavy. It’s a selfless thought, your final one, prompting the corners of your lips to curl into a smile. At least your brother will be okay. “-Kook… I-,” Your breaths slow, as does your heart, but you’ll be damned if you die without speaking your truth, “-love you.”

Your heartfelt confession forces him back to reality, he gulps, somehow finding the inner strength to stop and let go of your body. With a heaving chest and aching heart he retracts his fangs, replacing them with a soft kiss to the wound he’s created. A kiss so heartfelt that Shakespeare himself would have difficulty describing it. It takes him a selfish moment to steady himself, to fully shake the demon within to the back of his thoughts and appreciate your words and their magnitude. His forehead rests against your cheek, his hair damp and wayward, sticking to his skin as he smiles.

“To say I love you too would be an understatement,” He exhales, withdrawing from your face when you don’t react, “Y/N?”

Death is so beautiful. To have certainty, no yesterday and no tomorrow, no misery or doubt, just eternal peace. Envy brews inside Jungkook at the prospect of those capable of dying, to be the first to say goodbye, to lay forever in the soil and be a part of something more. The circle of life, the balance and harmony of the universe. At least that’s how he viewed death until he saw the light fade away from your eyes.

“Y/N?!”

He sits back on his knees, panicking, only now registering just how much damage he’s caused. Your body is warped, a mangled version of the epitome of beauty it was before. Not once has Jungkook ever felt remorse for his killings, it’s not in his nature. But the sight before him has him feeling sick to his stomach. He did this.

“Y/N?! No, no no no no…” Frantically shaking his head in denial his hands find the towel, covering your intimate areas with it to spare you some dignity, “Come on… Come on… The venom should be working, stay with me baby, stay with me!”

Love never dies a natural death. It withers away from the wrongdoings of the person we trusted most. The deceit, the pain and betrayals. It dies because of us, the consequences of our own actions. In it’s final hours love hurts so much that we feel numb to the pain, and even though we know the inevitable is coming, the execution destroys us.

And Jungkook loved you so much that it killed you.

“Please, you can’t leave me! You-, we were meant to be forever.. Please, come on come on come on...”

For the first time in his immortal existence Jungkook is scared. You should’ve turned by now, you should be like him. He’s turned many before, all of which showed signs of life after death within seconds of dying. It was a risky move to make, turning you when knowing of your lineage and the Pi Gasu curse, but even he must admit deep down he thought this would work. The silence in the basement is deafening, not even a trace of you beating heart remains.

"I've searched for so long to find you, please," He's desperate, leaning down to bite the other side of your neck. Your wrist, your arms, his fangs even make their way down to your thighs to bite you there too. The venom should be working. Why isn't it fucking working?!

It's then that he maps out a plan, one that will end his anguish if you really are dead. He’s to report your death to the council, they would never let him live knowing that he mated with you, never mind the fact he murdered you. The council consists of the world’s oldest, strongest vampires that implore the laws and see out punishments for ones broken. He’ll be executed. He knows first hand that he will suffer, it will be torture, the same pain he inflicted on others when he was a part of the council before he fled. Even then, nothing could ever hurt him more than living, if that’s what he is, knowing what he’s done.

“I’m so sorry,” His quivering lips part, allowing sobs to escape freely.

Even in death you take his breath away.

Unbeknownst to Jungkook you’re screaming for him not to worry, soul banging against the flesh of your body as the venom of his bites spreads your veins. It’s indescribable, agonising and paralysing. Internally you have the energy to run a thousand miles, the room smells different, there are dust particles falling in front of your eyes that you so desperately want to catch between your fingertips that feel restored to their usual structure. Yet you can't bring your body to move a single muscle.

You’re pleading, begging for him to stop crying and see that it worked. It worked. Eddie's transition will be complete just as you finish your own. You’re right here with Jungkook, where you’ll always be.

Forever.

“I should’ve never put you at risk like this… I-, I should’ve shown more restraint. I should’ve never let this happen.” He continues, sparks igniting your skin when his cool fingers trace your profile before he shuts your eyelids for you.

“I spent centuries searching for you, longing for your touch… Only for my touch to be the weapon that kills you. I would’ve given you the world and yet I’m the one to take it from you. The irony of loving someone so much it kills you is wasted on me, I feel nothing short of heartbroken.”

Please, please don’t cry, you think, please.

The world’s greatest love stories are defined by tragedy, and there is nothing more tragic than finally embracing your adoration and love for someone when it’s too late. How selfish of you both, to only truly appreciate the other and the comfort they brought you once it faded into darkness. It takes every ounce of strength, every shred of adrenaline in your body to flutter your eyes back open. And when you do, you're greeted with the sight of Jungkook sobbing into his hands.

Your voice is hoarse, throat burning, as though you've just died and come back to life, but when it registers in your mates brain his gaze snaps to yours instantly, and he grins.

"I-I'm thirsty."

#jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook series #vampire!jungkook #jungkook smut #jungkook angst #bts vampire au #bts fantasy au #jungkook x oc #vamp!jk #jungkook vampire #jungkook fanfic #jungkook imagine #jungkook bts #vampire ff #jungkook ff #vampire fiction #vampire smut #jungk0oksthighs

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mychoombatheroomba · 5 months

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Still I Can't Escape the Ghost of You

Between the Bones (Leon x GN! Reader) - Chapter 43

The night everything changed for him . . . and the night everything changed for you.

(Cross-posted from Ao3)

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Chapter Index

CW: More blood/gore, gunshot wounds, stab wounds, death and near-death experiences, suicidal thoughts, all-around angst and terrible cauterization technique (don't try and cauterize a wound with a road flare unless you've got no other choice, gang)

His heart racing, his body tensing. There was a shotgun to Leon’s head. The man behind it was brow-beaten and bloody, standing between Leon and the figure of a little girl watching them impassively.

A little girl whose skin was gray in the glow of the streetlights, one eye already turning a milky white. Leon couldn’t see where she’d been bitten, but it was obvious that she had been.

A child. No older than twelve. And she was going to die.

“Step aside,” Ada ordered. “We need to terminate her before she turns.”

Maybe it was a mercy, but Leon was still horrified at the words, because whatever was going to happen to her, this was still a child.

“Terminate?” the man hissed. “That’s my fucking daughter!”

Ada didn’t lower her gun, nor did the father protecting his daughter. Not until Leon spoke.

“Ada . . . just let them be,” he said, his voice solemn because there was nothing else he could do. He’d fought the monsters back in the police station, and he’d fight whatever was to come, but he couldn’t fight the virus in the girl’s blood. He couldn’t save her from this. He couldn’t stop this from happening any more than the girl’s father could.

He didn’t have help for the man, nor did he have answers for him. All Leon could do was let his heart slowly crater into his stomach as, after a moment, the man lifted his daughter in his arms and took her away. Embracing her as he embraced the inevitable.

“Just give us some privacy.”

The sound of a gunshot moments later nearly made Leon sick, because it shouldn’t have ended like that. And it wouldn’t for anyone else. He would lay down his life before that happened.

So, a plan was formed. A mission, however desperate. Ada would lead him down into the tunnels beneath the city, into the belly of the beast. There, with any luck they would find the people responsible for this. The scientist. The one who’d created this virus, the one they needed to bring to justice.

A scientist . . . and the sample. The virus that started all of this.

And he would trust this woman with him . . . even if her arrival was strange. Even if she wouldn’t show her full face. Even if she avoided so many of his questions. He would trust her because, exhausted and outnumbered as he was, what choice was there?

“We might not make it out,” Ada warned, with genuine concern hidden beneath the smooth veneer of her voice. She was giving him an out.

But Leon shook his head. “Whatever it takes to save this city, count me in.”

He wished he’d known then that all his determination, all the blood he would shed . . . none of it would make a difference.

⧫⧫⧫

Your heart racing, your body tensing. There was a submachine gun to your head. The man behind it was unreadable behind his mask, standing on one side of you, with your Captain behind you.

Reynolds, whose blood-flecked skin still held color and life, even if his eyes were wide with dread. His arm bled, though, crimson dripping from a jagged bite mark that had torn through his fatigues.

Your Captain. The man who’d been your rock to cling to for years. And he was going to die.

“Step aside,” the masked man ordered. “He’s infected. We have to take him out.”

Maybe he was right, but you felt molten as you heard the words, rage boiling over in you because whatever was going to happen, this was your Captain.

“Like hell we do,” you snarled. “We’re not fucking shooting him.”

The masked man didn’t move, nor did the other soldiers with him, but you stood firm. At least until Reynolds spoke.

“It takes a while, doesn’t it?” he asked, his voice solemn because there was nothing else he could do. He’d fought the monsters that had become of his men, and you knew he’d fight whatever was to come, but he couldn’t beat the enemy lurking beneath his skin. He couldn’t stop this from happening any more than you could.

You didn’t have help, nor did you have answers for him. All you could do was fight the urge to scream as Simon Reynolds resolved to help as long as he was able. Clinging to his duty while you tried to cling to some hope.

“If it gets that bad, I’ll do it myself.”

The promise had you shaking your head, because it couldn’t end like that. It wouldn’t. You would tear the world apart before that happened.

So, a plan was formed. A mission, however desperate. While the rest of the newly arrived soldiers escorted your men to their transport, to safety, you, Reynolds and the masked man before you would find the one person who might know something about this, the one person who might be able to help. If she was still alive. The researcher, the woman the Spec Ops soldiers had detained, who had warned against all of this when she arrived.

A researcher . . . and the sample. The virus that started all of this.

And you would trust these newcomers . . . even if their arrival was strange. Even if they wouldn’t show their faces. Even if the weapons they used weren’t standard issue. You would trust them because, exhausted and outnumbered as you were, what choice was there?

“Kid,” Reynolds said, shaking his head. “You don’t gotta do this. You can go with the others.” You could get out.

But you shook your head. “Can’t do that, Captain.” You smiled at him, despite it all. “You might need me to carry you.”

You wished you’d known then that all your resolve, all the strength you would conjure up . . . none of it would make a difference.

⧫⧫⧫

Leon had been trained to protect. He reminded himself of that as he descended into the tunnels beneath Raccoon City, his mysterious companion at his side. It didn’t matter what they faced, how sharp the claws or how big the teeth. He would overcome it all. He had to. For what remained of the city he’d vowed to serve, he had to.

So, he fought.

Even a maw of teeth big enough to swallow him whole wasn’t enough to stop him. If there was even a hope that Umbrella could be brought to justice, if the lives lost wouldn’t be for nothing, then Leon would face down the whole world to see it through. So, after surviving the horrors lurking in the sewers, he and Ada pressed on.

But it wasn’t the monsters that finally brought him down.

The scientist wasn’t what Leon expected. He hadn’t thought her to be such a simple-looking woman, his mind conjuring some image of a madman in her place. Instead, it was a woman who had helped create this plague. A wife. A mother.

“Annette Birkin.” Ada’s gun was already trained on the woman. So was Leon’s.

“She’s who we’re looking for?”

The woman stood, calm and composed, staring down the pair.

Ada wasted no time. “We’re here for the G-Virus.”

A scoff. Then, the woman smiled, confident in her conviction. “That’s not going to happen.”

“I’m warning you, Doctor.”

“Oh yeah?”

And then she was running. Leon broke after her, but Ada was faster. She raised her weapon as she rounded the corner-

A series of bangs.

A showering of sparks.

Leon was moving before he could even think of what he was doing.

“Ada!”

He moved because she might die if he didn’t . . .

And he was just fast enough.

⧫⧫⧫

You had been trained for war. You reminded yourself of that as you carved a path through Dorne Base once more, your Captain and a masked soldier at your side. It didn’t matter what you faced, how many of your former friends tried to tear into you. You would get through it all. You had to. For the man who’d guided you for so many years, you had to.

So, you fought.

You let yourself get lost in a single purpose, a single mission. If there was even a chance that the woman in the holding cells could save an ever-weakening Reynolds, then you would move heaven and earth to get to her. So, after obtaining the sample that the soldiers had arrived with, you and your group pressed on.

But it wasn’t the monsters that finally brought you down.

The researcher was more terrified than the last time you’d seen her. The woman who’d tried to warn all of you what was coming - a prophet you’d all chosen to ignore.

“It’s your lucky day,” you hissed to her, unlocking her cell.

The woman - another mystery to you and everyone on base, was frantic to join you when the door slid open.

“Thank god,” she said, looking between you and a now-pale Reynolds.

You wasted no time. “The virus. Is there a cure for it?”

“W-what?” she stammered, her eyes focusing on Reynolds, doubled over now as pain ripped through him. “No. No there’s-”

Her eyes found the red lenses of the gas mask moving towards her. Towards the three of you. You watched as her face paled in recognition. Terror.

And then she was running. You moved after her, but the masked soldier was faster. He grabbed her arm as she tried to slip past him-

A flash of steel.

A wet splattering of blood.

You were frozen in place, trying to understand what you were seeing.

“What are you-”

You tried to move as the knife came at you, because it had just opened a red smile in the researcher’s throat . . .

And you weren’t fast enough.

⧫⧫⧫

The gun went off once. Twice. Three more times.

He was moving, his feet leaving the ground as he jumped, becoming a shield. Protecting. Doing what he had been trying to do all night. Leon barely felt the bullet impact at first, until he and Ada hit the ground and his freshly pierced shoulder screamed in agony. Leon cried out as he landed on the concrete, head spinning as something in his shoulder came out of alignment and slipped where it shouldn’t have been. It was all he could manage because in his twenty-one years of living, he’d never felt pain like this.

He looked up, and wide, dark eyes where a pair of glasses should have been greeted him.

That, and the sound of Ada speaking his name, soft and worried. He barely heard her.

I’m bleeding. That was the only clear thought in his mind. The only thing that mattered as the world blurred and twisted and darkened. As pain washed over and dissolved all other thought. I’m bleeding and I-

He had just enough left in him to murmur a few words, a plea for the woman looking down at him.

“Just go! Stop her before she gets away.”

Darkness took him a moment later.

⧫⧫⧫

The knife went into you once. Twice. Three times.

You were too slow. That was all you could think as your gun remained idle in your hands. Unable to reach for your training or your instincts because this wasn’t happening. You heard more than felt the bone break under the steel, a pathetic sound escaping your lips. It was all you could manage because in your twenty years of living, you had never felt pain like this.

You looked up, and red lenses where eyes should have been were all that greeted you.

That, and the sound of someone screaming your name. The blade coming free of you, spilling blood with it, and then a struggle. Gunfire.

I’m bleeding. That was the only clear thought in your mind. The only thing that mattered as the world blurred and twisted and darkened. As pain washed over and dissolved all other thought. I’m bleeding and I-

You had just enough of you left of you to feel a gloved hand take the virus sample from you and to hear a few words, spoken in a cold voice.

“Target eliminated, sample in hand.”

Darkness took you a moment later.

⧫⧫⧫

Leon awoke in the dark, pained but propped against the wall, something warm draped over him. His arm, his shoulder, he could still feel the pain, but bandages kept the blood in place, wrapped around him masterfully and with great care.

“Ada.”

He hadn’t even felt her dressing his wound, hadn’t felt those hands wrapping him in gauze and then draping her own jacket over his body. He hadn’t seen her leave him there, in pursuit of the woman who did this.

He had to help her. That was what he resolved once his mind was clear enough to think it.

Because she’d taken the time to tend to him. This beautiful, mysterious woman who had kept him alive. Ada, for all her withdrawnness, had saved his life. He would save hers now, if he could.

So he bared his teeth and pushed himself to his feet, groaning in pain as he did. The bullet wound in his shoulder flared as he stood, as he reached for the gun Ada had holstered at his side. He took a steadying breath as he checked his ammo once more, the blade that Marvin had given him, and then he set out into the dark.

Step by painful step.

It may be the last thing he ever did, he knew it, but he had to try.

⧫⧫⧫

You awoke screaming. You thrashed against the floor, something burning and bright pressed against your bleeding belly. The flare was held in shaky, weak hands, a desperate attempt to close bleeding wounds.

“I know kid, I know I know I know, I’m sorry-”

You clung to Reynold’s hand, squeezing it tight enough you thought you might break his bones as he tried to melt your parted flesh back together. There was no time for anything else. Not when the man who did this had gone. Not when Reynolds too bled from a wound at his side, and one of his eyes had already started to pale.

“We have . . . to go after him,” Reynolds said, once the flare was set aside. “We have to . . . stop him.”

Because he’d taken the virus that caused all this. He’d nearly gutted you and shot your Captain. He was no ally, whatever he was, and what few survivors from your base left alive, were with his men now. You knew in your slow-beating heart that their fate would be the same as yours. Unless you did something.

So you bared your teeth and pushed yourself to your feet, a sound escaping you that was more animal than human. The world blurred around you as you stood, as you helped Reynolds to his feet as well. His breath wheezed as you both slung arms around each other, struggling to keep each other up.

Step by excruciating step.

It would be the last thing either of you would ever do, you knew, but you had to try.

⧫⧫⧫

“I’m a liability now.” Ada’s declaration was bitter, and it made Leon’s heart sink. The bandages he’d wrapped around her wounded leg were holding, but they didn’t make it easier for her to walk. “If I’m going to finish this case, you’re the last hope I’ve got.” She was asking him to go on without her. To find the sample they needed as evidence of Umbrella’s crimes - he knew she was right. He knew it was their best bet, but still . . .

“I’m not just gonna leave you here.” He couldn’t. “What if you’re attacked, what if you need help-”

She leaned forward and silenced him, looking him in the eye . . . and his heart stammered as her kiss made him feel alive. “I’ll be fine. Don’t worry about me. I’ve gotta see this through . . .” a hand on his thigh, “. . . and I want to see you again. I’ve got plenty to live for, trust me.”

Leon held her gaze, conviction growing alongside something else in his heart. He trusted her. He knew she’d be alright, somehow. Something about the look in her eyes. Or the way her lips had felt against his. Could he manage this? Could he do this by himself?

Yes. He had to. For everyone in Raccoon City, he would.

“Okay.” He stood, feeling a strength in himself that he’d never needed before. He ignored the pain in his shoulder, the shifting of torn tissue and cracked bone, and he readied himself for what was to come.

“Leon,” Ada said, stopping him for a moment. “I’m counting on you.”

That fact alone spurred him onward. “I know.”

⧫⧫⧫

“You should . . . you should go.” Reynolds pleaded from his place on the ground, his voice full of pain. The bullet wound in his side seeped blood, just as the poorly cauterized wounds in your belly still did. “Find him. Stop him. I’ll just slow you down.” He was asking you to go on without him. To find the masked man and the sample he’d stolen. But your legs shook beneath you and your vision blurred even now. Even if you could make it on your own . . .

“I’m not . . . just gonna leave you here.” You couldn’t. “Don’t . . . don’t fucking ask me to-”

“Kid,” he stopped and silenced you, looking you in the eye . . . and your heart stopped as you saw a face of death looking back at you. “Go. Forget about me. You’ve . . . you’ve gotta see this through . . .” a weak hand on your shoulder, “. . . you’ve gotta stop him. That’s . . . that’s an order.”

You looked away, because you couldn’t bear that half-dead gaze. Not from him. He was dying. Turning. You could see it. Would you make it further without him? Or would the torn guts in your belly kill you before you even got to the man responsible for all of this? Would you be able to stop him at all?

No. You wouldn’t. You were both as good as dead. So you would both die together.

“Fuck that.” you groaned, one hand pressed to your wound as the other hoisted him up, ignoring the shifting of broken bones and organs and the blood that spilled where it shouldn’t. You pulled your Captain to his feet, because neither of you could move without leaning on each other.

“You’re . . . you’re gonna get yourself killed,” Reynolds protested.

That fact didn’t matter to you then. “I know.”

⧫⧫⧫

No terror could prepare Leon for what he faced. A mess of eyes and teeth and claws that towered over him. Even with his heart hammering and his shoulder aching, he knew what it was he was facing. A husband, a father, and a man consumed by his own creation. A man become a monster.

He’d shattered his own wife’s bones, the way he intended to shatter Leon’s.

Just more prey to hunt and kill.

He couldn’t let himself feel that terror.

All he could feel was determination and focus. He had the sample. He could get it to Ada. Then the FBI could stop this from ever happening again. He clung to the kiss she’d given him.

That only made it sting all the more when the Doctor whispered with labored breath the truth.

He’d fallen for a lie.

One that ended with him staring down the barrel of a gun, a beautiful woman on the other end.

Even with the betrayal, even with the damage this woman could do to the world . . . Leon couldn’t pull the trigger. Neither could Ada. Not when it came down to it. Not even when Leon lowered his weapon, letting himself be all that stood between the woman in front of him and her goal. He would never forget the look in her eyes as she lowered her pistol . . .

Or the look of surprise as another gunshot rang out, piercing a hole straight through her . . .

Or the way the ground trembled as the Umbrella facility began to self-destruct . . .

Or the feeling of them both falling towards darkness.

⧫⧫⧫

No pain could prepare you for what you faced. A mess of bodies, bloodied and limp lay in the snow, dusted by the dying storm. Even as more blood and pain spilled from your poorly cauterized wounds, you knew what it was you were facing. Your men, your friends, your family . . . their faces weren’t like the others. They weren’t a mess of decomposition and rot, they were whole.

They’d executed them all, the way he’d tried to execute you.

Just another loose end to tie up.

You couldn’t let yourself feel that pain.

All you could feel was rage and desperation. He had the sample. He’d killed your men. If you could kill him and destroy that sample, somehow, then maybe this would never happen again. You clung to your Captain, your strength, refusing to let him go.

That only made it sting more when you heard the whirring of helicopter blades.

You’d all fallen for a lie.

One that ended with you bleeding and broken, staring up as a helicopter began to take off in the dying storm.

You fired desperately, you and Reynolds both. It was all shaky aim as the last of the masked men - the one who’d taken the sample and perhaps your life along with it – climbed into the chopper. He was far away, but maybe, just maybe, you could bring him down before he got away. Killing just him might be enough. You would never forget that feeling of desperation . . .

Or the echo of gunfire as his fellows covered him, your Captain using the last of his strength to shield you . . .

Or the heat at your back as charges you didn’t know had been placed were detonated . . .

Or the feeling of falling towards the snow.

⧫⧫⧫

The platform was holding, barely. Leon could feel the metal creaking beneath him, threatening to give way. He heard the clinking of glass, and watched as the vial, the virus sample that this had all been for, fell. It disappeared into the chasm below, vanishing like some sick joke.

He’d failed. He’d been a fool and he’d failed . . . but for one fact.

She was still hanging on.

He needed her to hang on, because this couldn’t be the end.

Even if he knew it was.

Ada looked up at him, her wrist caged in his grasp. Her other arm hung limp at her side, painted red with her own blood.

“Leon-” it sounded more genuine than anything she’d said that night. “Forget it.”

“Shut up - I’ve got you!” he cried, even if there was no point. Still, he tried. He tried, even with his wounded arm, to pull her up. He strained and struggled, but the platform buckled, and they grew ever closer to oblivion. She knew as he did.

“It’s not worth it.”

“Don’t do this-” his arm shook with the strain of holding her and he hoped beyond all hope - he prayed - that he could pull her up. That he could save this one life, when he had failed everyone else.

But as Ada looked up at him, a look of acceptance on her face, he knew that he couldn’t.

“Take care of yourself, Leon.”

Whatever had kept her holding on, whatever strength he’d had to keep her there, she slipped from his grasp.

Then she was falling, and Leon screamed as he reached for her in vain. His fingertips met only air as he watched her fall. Falling and falling until she disappeared into the darkness below. Leon could only lay there on his belly, staring at the nothingness that had taken the woman he’d only just met.

The woman who’d used him.

The woman he might have loved, if things had been different.

The woman he couldn’t save.

⧫⧫⧫

Your base was on fire. You could feel the heat, the lingering flames from the explosions. You heard the slicing of helicopter blades, and watched as the craft took off. The craft and the masked man who’d outplayed you. He and the sample he’d taken disappeared into the dark sky, one final insult to injury.

You’d failed. You’d been a fool and you’d failed . . . and now all you could do was watch as one last life was taken from you.

He was still hanging on.

You needed him to hang on, because this couldn’t be the end.

Even if you knew it was.

Reynolds was doubled over in the snow, his fingers twitching, his breathing ragged. He was shaking, groaning, the ground painted red with his blood.

“Kid-” it didn’t sound like him. It didn’t sound like your Captain. “K- . . . kill . . .”

“Don’t-” you begged, even though you knew it was futile. Even as you pushed your broken, bleeding body up. The fall or the exertion had reopened your wounds, leaving your own blood spilling down your side again. You held one hand there, shaking. The other . . .

“Kill . . .”

“Simon-” the gun shook in your hand, and you hoped beyond all hope - you prayed - that you might reach him. That you could bring him back to you with his name alone.

But as Reynolds looked up at you, his lips pulling back in a snarl, you knew that you couldn’t.

No final words of wisdom. Not this time.

Whatever he’d been holding onto, whatever part of him was left, it slipped from his grasp.

Then he was lunging at you, and you screamed as you fired. Your finger squeezed against the trigger over and over again, even as he tackled you to the ground. Over and over until bits of his skull came loose and he slumped on top of you. You could only lie there on your back, staring at the broken face of the man you’d known for years.

The man who’d guided you.

The man who, for reasons you’d never fathom, had loved you.

The man you’d killed.

⧫⧫⧫

He stumbled to his feet. He didn’t know where he was going, exactly. Only that he’d felt relief when he’d seen Claire’s face on the cameras and heard her voice. “We can make it!” she told him.

The chance to live. He honestly didn’t know if he should even take it. Was it even worth trying at this point? He didn’t know if he could outrun the destruction of the facility or survive the monsters in his path. But he had to try. For Elliot, Marvin, for Kendo and his daughter . . . for Ada. He had to believe he had enough strength to see this through for them. His eyes narrowed into a hard focus one last time and he made his decision.

So, with hope lingering on the horizon, he ran.

⧫⧫⧫

You dragged yourself away. You didn’t know where you were going, exactly. Only that you couldn’t look at him. Only that you’d used all the bullets in your gun and his was empty too.

The promise of death. It was looming over you, and you were all too happy to welcome it. A bullet would have been faster - more preferable. Maybe you could make it back towards the fire to burn with the bodies of your brothers in arms. To be with Rain, David, James, Spence, Sasha and all the rest. Your strength wouldn’t allow that, though. All you managed to do with what you had left was roll onto your back once more, eyes glazing over as you beheld the night sky.

So, knowing your torn belly or the cold would do the work for you, you waited.

⧫⧫⧫

The sky was painted a triumphant gold. Gold like the hair of the child walking alongside him, and the heart of the woman who’d saved her. Claire had done the impossible - she’d saved a life, brought a little girl through hell itself. Claire, who’d managed to make sure she and Sherry could see another sunrise.

And Leon had helped to keep them safe, even if only at the very end. He and Claire had faced down Birkin one last time to save the scientists’ daughter from himself. She’d nearly died, nearly been transformed into something else. Something other.

But here she was, safe with them.

He had made it. It was done. He’d fought, and somehow, he’d survived it all. Now, as birds sang in the morning sky, he could only take in the fresh air. He’d won . . . but he knew that he’d carry more than just the scar of a bullet wound with him.

He took some solace in the warmth of the sun. In the promise of a new day.

A small hand fitted against his palm, the girl smiling up at him and Claire, wrapped in a red leather jacket that was too big for her.

“Long as we stick together,” Leon resolved, “we’ll be fine.”

Because despite it all, they were alive.

He was alive. He shouldn’t have been, but he was.

Alive, but changed, because Leon knew as he, Sherry and Claire walked away from Raccoon City, who he was would be left behind in the ruined streets of Raccoon City. Pieces given to those he couldn’t save, until there was almost nothing left.

Leon was changed, and Sherry and Claire walked with someone entirely new down that lonely road.

He knew only one thing with certainty:

The people who did this had to be stopped.

He would make sure of it.

Whatever it took.

He would stop them.

⧫⧫⧫

The sky was bleeding a rising red. Bleeding just like you, a halo of crimson building beneath you. You knew it wouldn’t be long, now. You couldn’t move anymore, could barely keep your eyes open to see one last sunrise.

You’d be with your friends soon enough. Your mentor. Or you’d be gone into nothingness. Whatever waited for you once your heart stopped, you just hoped that your body would remain still in the snow. You hoped that you wouldn’t somehow become something else. Something other.

You supposed you wouldn’t know.

All you knew was that you were ready. You wanted it to be done. You’d fought, and you’d lost. Now, as you watched the ravens circling overhead, at least maybe you wouldn’t hurt anymore. At least you wouldn’t have to carry the weight of them all with you.

But then a shadow passed over the sun. One that even your fading mind recognized as a person.

A scarred hand reached down for your pulse, and a sharp-featured face contorted in concern. A red beret above you that became all you could really focus on.

A gruff voice broke through the fog. “This one’s still alive!”

Words that brought no comfort.

You were alive. You shouldn’t have been, but you were.

Alive but changed, because you knew as you felt arms carefully lift you from the snow, who you had been was being left in the smoldering embers of Dorne Base. Bled dry with the corpses of your second family.

You were changed, and that morning, Major Jack Krauser carried something entirely different away from the wreckage.

You knew only one thing with certainty:

The people who did this would pay.

You would see to it.

Whatever it took.

You would end them.

⧫⧫⧫

A small room. Leon and one other man were all that occupied it, empty otherwise but for the choice being offered to him.

As if “choice” was even the right word.

Weeks of sleepless nights, of memories, of weighing his gun in his hands . . . and not pulling the trigger for one reason and one reason only.

Sherry.

The girl he and Claire had saved . . . and the one they threatened now.

“We have the authority to do as we please with you. You and that girl.” Leon was still healing. Still struggling to understand what he’d seen, to find some semblance of peace or normalcy again. That didn’t matter to them. Only one thing did. “Bottom line is: you have the experience we’re looking for. So, if you want this to end peacefully, you really have only one choice.”

Choice.

He almost laughed.

No . . . no there was no choice at all. Not for him.

⧫⧫⧫

A small room. You and Krauser were all that occupied it, empty but for the choice being offered to you.

As if “choice” was even the right word.

Months of sleepless nights, of memories, of weighing your gun in your hands . . . and not pulling the trigger for one reason and one reason only.

Revenge.

The thing you’d dreamed of . . . and the opportunity he offered you now.

“You don’t have to decide now. Take the time to get yourself into fighting shape again.” You were done healing, though. You were done trying to rationalize what happened, done trying to banish the thoughts of it from your mind. That didn’t matter to you. Only one thing did. “But if you want to take the fight to the bastards who did this, if you want that chance, come find me when you’ve made your choice.”

Choice.

You almost laughed.

No . . . no there was no choice at all. Not for you.

⧫⧫⧫

You looked at him, and he looked at you. Seeing each other more fully than you ever had, knowing what no one else on this earth knew.

There, in the infirmary, with the radio playing, you and Leon Kennedy finally knew each other. And all either of you could think to do as you took one another in, all the loss, the scars, all of it, was to reach out. His arms fell around you like they belonged and yours settled around him like home.

You clung to each other as song after song played, the air heavy with the names of those you couldn’t save. Elliot. Marvin. Robert. Emma. Ada. Rain. Spence. David. James. Sasha. Simon. Countless others. Too many souls. Too much weight to bear alone.

So, in that moment, you shouldered it together.

It was why you cared so much for Leon, you realized. Because he was always willing to carry you.

It was why you were terrified for him.

It was why you would raze the world for him.

It was why you loved him-

You loved him.

“Huh.” You didn’t mean for it to escape you.

“What?” he asked, and you had to swallow down too many emotions at once.

Luckily, as Leon pulled away from you, there was a good excuse playing you could use as cover. “Nothing, just . . . haven’t heard this song in a while.” That much was true.

“What has happened to it all?”

“Crazy, some'd say . . .”

Leon looked at you like he didn’t quite believe you, but whatever his suspicions, he took a moment to listen to the song too. “It’s no Spice Girls,” he said, when he finally turned back to give you a gentle smile.

“Where is the life that I recognize?”

“Gone away.”

You laughed just as softly, studying his face. His eyes, the light shade of their blue, the sharpened cut of his cheekbones, the little mole next to his nose and the ones on his neck . . . taking in every detail because you knew better than anyone you might not get a better chance. “No . . .” you agreed, deciding to give him another piece of you, “it’s better, actually. One of my favorites.”

One you’d listened to with a kind, wise-eyed Captain a few times in another life.

“But I won't cry for yesterday”

“There's an ordinary world”

“Somehow I have to find . . .”

Leon’s smile widened as he listened, and he nodded his approval. “It’s a good one.”

“And as I try to make my way”

“To the ordinary world”

“I will learn to survive.”

“Yeah,” you agreed, feeling somehow heavy and weightless at the same time. You would never be free of what happened . . . but for today, for this moment, you weren’t alone. “It is.”

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Chapter Index

#leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy #resident evil x reader #resident evil 2 #resident evil 4 #resident evil #between the bones #gender neutral reader #leon kennedy x you #no y/n #raccoon city #ada wong #HUNK

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stickywhiteash · 11 months

Text

Can of Worms || Kakashi x reader

Warnings: Terminal illness, Death, Angst Word Count: (1.3k)

Like sandpaper taken to a wooden block, you were worn down, reduced to sawdust. There was nothing that could be done to hold you together any longer. Wood glue could help, but it’ll only delay the inevitable.

In your home you sit in the dark, patiently waiting as the clock ticks by. Though exhausted, the rapid flow of thoughts prevented a peaceful sleep. It felt suffocating, threatening to drown you.

The front door opens followed by a hushed, “I’m home.” A dim light flickers on to reveal your still figure. After removing his shoes, he finds his way to the couch, sinking next to you. Kakashi’s arms wrap around you, pulling you into a tender hug.

“What’s the matter..?”

“We need to talk. It’s important.”

His chest tightens and he squeezes you more. Had he done something wrong or perhaps the opposite, a lack of action? Immediately he tries to think of things he missed. An anniversary, a chore forgotten, something anything.

He did notice that you were looking more and more ragged every week, every day. Could he have been the cause of it and hadn’t noticed?

It can’t be. Kakashi knows you. If something he did bothered you, you’d let him know immediately! Or at the very least, you’d stew in your annoyance for a few days then tell him. Most major arguments were discussed and settled in at the longest a week after the point has been brought up. Still, the possibility was there.

Noticing his heart rate spike and his breathing becoming more labored, you nuzzle into him and peck his cheek.

“Kakashi, would you love me if I was a worm?”

The dial-up noise rings through his skull. All of his thoughts come screeching to a halt.

“Ah—what?”

“Would you still love me if I was a worm?”

Black bewildered eyes stare back into yours as he pulls away. "A worm?"

"Mhm."

Kakashi feigns being offended and states his next words matter-of-factly.

“I have loved you for 30 years now and will until the end of time. Whether you turn into a worm, a butterfly, or even a snake. I love you unconditionally. If we couldn’t find a way to transform you back.. Hmm.”

Kakashi crosses his arms and leans back, searching for an answer. His momentary silence worrying you. If you couldn't provide for him like a normal person, would he leave you? The next words that he speaks clears the anxiety fog.

“Well, I don’t know much about worm keeping, but it probably starts with a tank containing the proper dirt and nutrients for whatever species worm you turn into. I'd fill it with all of your favorite fruits so the dirt would taste like them when it decomposes. ”

A wry smile makes its way to your face, “Even if I could do nothing more for you? Even if I was useless?”

Cocking his head towards you he replies, “Naturally. That falls under unconditionally. It was never because of your talents or the things you have done for me that I fell for you. Your personality was what pulled me in. The way you interact with the world.. It’s you that I love. You can never be useless to me. Your existence is not valued by what you can contribute to me or the world, my love. Don't forget that. ”

The taste of iron on your tongue burns when you bite the inside of your cheek. Though you've asked him such a ridiculous question that could have been easily brushed off, this man decides to sing you praise and comfort. Lucky, blessed, to have him in your life.

Time is running out.

Taking in a sharp breath, you pressed on, “Would you let me die?”

“Never.”

“What if I asked you to?”

“I don’t think I can.”

Your voice cracks, “Could you love me enough to let me go?”

Kakashi sits up straight and takes your hand in his. Brows furrowing.

“. . . I’m sorry? What’s this about?”

“No, I’m sorry— That I didn’t say anything. I didn’t want you to worry and get in the way of your work.”

“Please. Explain.”

You do your best to not choke over your words. It was the moment of truth to come clean. They rush out like a river that had broken a dam.

“I- I’m sick and I’m not getting better. It’s never going to get better ‘Kashi,” you whisper, pressing the back of his hand to your wet cheek. “I don’t know how much time I have left. I also didn’t want you to leave once you found out.”

He searches for any hint of a lie, but there are none. It explained so much why you’ve been so lethargic and are less. Why especially in the past month you’ve been distant. You have been trying to figure out how to break the news to him.

His free hand balls into a tight fist and his eyes sstare down. You can tell by the way he’s hunched over a bit and turned to stone that a panic attack may be imminent. It was inevitable.

Of course this was how he would react to losing another loved one. Taken away too soon. At the very least, it wasn’t during battle, in the middle of war.

In a hushed tone, you attempt to grab his attention, “Hey, Kakashi. It’s okay. I’m still here. I’m still with you.” Both of your hands cover his and lay them in your lap. Gently you stroke their backs in circles with your thumbs. “Breathe, my dear.”

Minutes pass and you two sit, leaning against each other, in comfortable silence. Breathing patterns match after exchanging tears. Puffy eyes weighted with the burden of the unknown threaten to shut.

Hesitantly, you and Kakashi go to bed with heavy hearts. When sleep finally takes over, you’re trapped within his limbs, holding on to you for dear life. The scent of him fills your nose and you’re able to dream about him peacefully.

❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。

A little over 2 years has passed. You were able to cling on to the thin thread of life for a good year or so, but the inevitable came and it came crashing down hard. All of your things still decorate the building. Some have moved different locations but not out of sight. A decent chunk of your collections and figurines now have a beautiful display case dab smack next to the entryway. Plushies that once only stayed in a hanger in the corner of the room or on the bed now scattered everywhere. The couch, some seats taken at the kitchen table, in the dog beds. Kakashi’s pack have been snuggling with them, none harmed on the little hair on their heads.

Grief has been hard on the man.

In the first month you’ve passed he’d taken on more duties to keep his mind off of you. When Kakashi isn’t working he’s off at the graveyard visiting Rin and Obito’s tombstones. To bring himself in front of yours would be too much to bear.

Next few months he cleans the home and constantly rearranges belongings. Only a few things stay exactly the way they were. He knows you’d hate it if he let himself rot with all the dust collecting on your belongings.

Eventually he’ll have to ‘move on.’ What a silly thing to say. Move on. As if the deaths of everyone he’s loved were an obstacle in his daily life. Leave them in the past.

Carry on. Now that sounds more suitable. Carry on their spirits in his heart until his own demise comes. Carry the memories long enough and eventually the weight of grief gets lighter. The beloved time spent together get brighter instead of being shrouded in shadows of regret. Regret not having enough time. Spending enough with you.

On your death anniversary he lays a picnic blanket down by your tombstone and brushes off any debris laying on the plaque. A full meal cooked for two.

“In a few years.. you’d probably have turned into a worm by now. Maybe even multiple. Funny how that works.”

“Today, I still love you. In a few years, even then. Even when you can’t talk back to me like we used to and even though you’re gone and passed on, I still love you. My love is unwavering and I miss you every day. I love you so much that I will continue living the best I can for you, my friends, everyone.”

“When I turn into a worm too, I hope to see you then.. and that you’d love me still”

#kakashi hatake #kakashi x reader #naruto #0111.doc #angst #cw death #cw terminal illness

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broken-clover · 9 months

Text

I like thinking about crossovers with guilty gear and samurai shodown because of baiken's dlc status in the latter but whenever I come back to the concept it ends up making me profoundly sad and it's basically always for one of two reasons

One is the fact that from the get-go, Samsho in part shows off its archaic setting by having a character, Ukyo, that's contracted tuberculosis, in a setting where it's more or less a guaranteed death sentence. Of course his repeated presence as a playable character means he has a bit of plot immunity and has had at least one death retconned, but still, a lot of his character relates to the fact that he's a terminally ill man who's deeply suffering from something that will, inevitably, kill him. Guilty Gear, being a futuristic setting with magic means that even if conventional treatments were potentially wiped out, TB very likely is something that's relatively trivial to cure. And I could see that being either a happy-sad or just a sad thing whether or not it's something that Baiken would be capable of fixing.

And one is the fact that, suddenly, Baiken is home. It's not the place she grew up in, she's a couple of centuries early, but the grass and dirt and rock beneath her boots belong to a place that, in her world, was literally blasted out of existence. Even if it isn't the same people and exact places she lost, she suddenly sees her own culture alive and thriving. Everything in her world that was destroyed or died off or banned is just...right there.

But at the same time, what does that mean for her sense of vengeance? The place she's mourned for decades and fashioned into a deep well of fury and will to survive is fine. It's all been undone. Even if she may or may not have come to terms with the loss, suddenly the thing you've devoted so much of your life to, used to power your will to go on, and it meant nothing. And in having her old existence handed to her on a platter, would she even fit into it anymore? Baiken the person, who she exists as now, owes so much of that to rising from the ashes of her homeland. She isn't the happy, innocent little girl she was when her home was still standing. Adult Baiken has only ever had a burnt-out husk of a home. How do you just suddenly pretend everything is fine when everything you've done has suddenly been made completely pointless?

#sorry folks I'm full of thoughts tonight #I like pairing baiken with Iroha but at some point I've really got to do something with her and Ukyo #I think it'd be interesting #guilty gear #samurai shodown #baiken #ukyo tachibana #op back on her bullshit

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radioactivewisdom · 2 months

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You’re actually serious… There's a thesis to be argued of antinatalism as the inevitable worldview of the terminally-online set.

https://www.reddit.com/r/badphilosophy/s/kVXFSmlxzQ

“If all life is suffering, why do serious anti-natalists not kill themselves as soon as they come to that conclusion? Is there that big of a leap between not existing and ending your existence that makes that incongruous? …it’s a valid question. If someone postulates that life is suffering and it’s better to not exist than be alive: (assuming they think post-death non-existence is the same as before-life existence) it begs the question, why go through it? If post-death is preferable to living the only reason not to jump to it is if the process of euthanasia is even more suffering than life is. The obvious response is that they’re being hyperbolic and life isn’t generally suffering for people”

As a person who was once deeply entrenched in the anti-natalist movement, it really is just made up of exclusively mentally ill people.

The most mentally ill are those who endorse this reality by bringing more people into it. If you find this world to be worth it, then there’s nothing to complain about and you can stop marching now. Nothing can actually be that serious if people birth new innocent lives on the daily. It’s parents who claim they fear for the lives of their children and mourn the loss of innocence, so why bring them here in the first place? This is a planet full of addicted sex pest consumers who accuse anyone who doesn’t want to participate as being the sick ones. Euthanasia isn’t widely available and killing yourself isn’t easy. Never being born and dying are two completely different things. Thats why most terminally ill patients don’t choose to end their own lives despite going through prolonged pain and dying anyways. It makes more sense to dislike this world and continue living in it without propagating, than blaming your problems on outside sources while signing new people up for the same. The most insane and deranged go on to have children, just look at the abuse and neglect rates. Many antinatalist are motivated by the wrong reasoning, upset that they aren’t “winning” at life, but they’re no more mentally unwell than the rest of the population. Life is filled with suffering because of other people, I can avoid them and still enjoy my time here.

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fatuismooches · 2 years

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OKAY LISTEN here's a other angsty one -

an alternative spin on readers death, have you heard of the medical phenomenon where terminal patients will miraculously get better only to die after a few days? now right imagine that with dot and fragile reader like suddenly you were better, you seemed to be walking around with more ease, chatting came as natural as it used to, each breath seemed less like a battle and more like a reminder that you're really here, next to him, alive. Dottore had always had faith in his abilities but somewhere inside of him he knew you were not going to make it, that'd he'd end up alone but most days he trampled away these thoughts and put on a self assured smile and there you were, finally getting better, you- and then you were gone. Perhaps it was a cruel joke from the gods.

SORRY THAF WAS WAY TOO LOMG HAHD I GOT CARRIED AWAY EXCUSE MT BAD WRITING

ANW LY BYEE

-🌕💗

I just googled what you were talking about and wow... it is so sad 😭

It came as a surprise to everyone. There you were, standing at the entrance of the lab by yourself, without needing any support. No one needed to help you wake up, to get dressed, to walk here, nothing. You were stretching your body as if you did not have a care in the world. It was such a sight that even one of the clones ended up dropping something.

As a scientist, Zandik is puzzled by your sudden change. What triggered it? Did your body finally fight it off? Did the medicines have a role in it? But as your lover, he can't help but feel pleased by it as well. He has watched you for many, many years, during all of your stages, in health and sickness. And to see you finally giggling and laughing again, to see your shoulders a bit higher than usual, it makes him... content. He is on par with the God of Wisdom, of course you'd get better, he told himself. You spend some time with the other Harbingers too - they are delighted with your 'recovery' as well, and you're glad to receive their good wishes and converse with them normally, without the usual symptoms of your illness creeping in.

Yet something ugly nags at the back of Dottore's mind. It just did not add up. He finds himself asking you questions more and more, but you just smiled softly and reassured him that you were fine, yet there was an unreadable emotion in your eye. And then he knew. So when you did not wake up the next day, he was not surprised. But he was angry - something he had not felt in far too long as he was accustomed to getting what he wanted. Yet it seemed that he was never fated to have you.

Deep down Zandik always knew the truth. It was rather laughable, a man of truth and knowledge such as himself was denying the inevitable truth. It was foolish of him to ever believe in miracles. Miracles had never saved him, and they did not save you.

#smooches talks #🌕 anon #fragile reader <3 #dottore love notes <3 #MY HEART WAS HEAVY READING THIS I CANT #UR LITERALLY SO GOOD AT THIS SHUSH #TALENT FR

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thecarnivorousmuffinmeta · 11 months

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What happened to Billy at the end of "Leach in the rain"? How does he feel about what Jacob did to Renesme? What does he think of Renesme? What does he feel about Jacob's death? Does Billy know that Charlie is a vampire now? What is Billy's opinion of Bella after all that has happened?

Leech in the Rain by me and @therealvinelle

What Happened to Billy?

Nothing, he's around/alive, doing as well as expected in the circumstances, he's just off screen because @therealvinelle and I felt the man had suffered enough and he didn't really have much to do in the story.

What Does He Think About Jacob and What He Did?

Per the story Billy's been grieving his son for years, as he reconciled himself with the fact that Jacob was lost to him/the community when he imprinted on the vampire spawn. Jacob's priority became Renesmee and thus the Cullens, this meant if anything ever came to a head or things went south, Jacob would side with them. Offscreen Billy's been growing distant to his son for many years, partly out of Jacob being with Renesmee whenever possible and partly to protect himself from what he sees as the inevitable fallout.

Then the inevitable fallout is much worse than Billy could have ever imagined. He doesn't like the idea of Renesmee, yes, but she's very clearly an innocent and not at fault for being what she is (he blames Edward for that one). What Jacob does to her is horrific and what he clearly planned to do is even worse and would have also put the tribe in tremendous risk if he'd demanded they shield the Cullen daughter from the vampires. Jacob was willing to get them all murdered so that he could assault a little girl.

But for Billy, his son has been dead for years, gone ever since the imprint happened. He can tell himself this isn't his son and apparently it never will be. Essentially, he's in a state of grief, but is at least relieved to know that in his case it really isn't the son he once knew.

What About Renesmee?

Again, he doesn't like the idea of her, and thinks she's inherently dangerous however he recognizes that she's not at fault here and can't help the circumstances of her birth. Even more than the Cullens who were turned into demons, she literally started out life like this.

Helping with this view is the fact that because of Jacob and the imprint Billy has seen Renesmee off and on through the years, as has Emily, Sam, and others and she leaves the impression of a very naive, sweet, and happy child who is unfortunately a blood sucking demon under the hood.

It's a lot of "it's really horrible she's a vampire :/" and not being at all happy that Jacob's caught up in this. Billy would much rather live in the world where Jacob had not imprinted, Renesmee and the Cullens had left, and he never had to think about them again.

They're not close at all though and he hasn't really ever held a conversation with her that he hasn't in some way tried to escape from.

What About Jacob's Death?

Again, per above, Jacob to him died a long time ago. He's grieving, but in a way this brings him closure as if he'd watched his son battle a long terminal illness.

He now doesn't have to wonder how and when Jacob will die, if the Cullens will betray him, or if he'll be stuck living with them forever as an immortal shapeshifter caught in their thrall.

Does He Know Charlie's a Vampire?

No.

He thinks Charlie was eaten when Sam and Leah caught vampire scents in the area. It wouldn't occur to him that vampire warlords, who are at war with half the Cullens, kidnapped him per his connection to Bella where he might be a psychic.

What's His Opinion of Bella?

I imagine he still views her as a victim the way he did in canon. Billy tried to warn Bella as many times as he could, but she was too teenage to listen to him and kept insisting he didn't know what he was talking about or it didn't matter. He tried his best, but he's watching this tragedy of her life and helpless to act.

He blames Edward far more than her for what happened both with Jacob (as Renesmee would never have existed were Edward not a fool) and Bella (becoming a blood sucking demon whose lost all sense of morality).

For Bella's choices, Billy doesn't really understand vampirism, and would think this is very in line with her having become a blood sucking demon. Billy believes Bella's not at the wheel anymore and some crystalline predator has taken her place while claiming its her.

She may not be killing people, but that doesn't mean he didn't expect something akin to this.

Bella, too, has been dead to him for some time.

#twilight #twilight renaissance #leech in the rain #billy black #jacob black #anti jacob black #renesmee cullen #bella swan #anti bella swan #meta #vinelle #therealvinelle

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goodomensafterdark · 3 months

Text

GOAD Writers Guild Presents: Friday I'm in Love Chapter 7

Written by blackjeans93 on our subreddit

Rating: Explicit

CW/TW Wing injury, temporary character death

Excerpt:

Crowley, fueled by caffeine and demonic determination, soared above London, unwilling to admit to himself that he was having any fun. It had been a good few hundred years since he’d actually used his wings to fly, and although the Bentley did a wonderful job at satisfying his urge to travel very fast, it just couldn’t compare to the speeds Crowley could reach by tucking his wings against himself in such a way that barely resisted the wind, while plunging downwards at faster than terminal velocity.

He didn’t particularly care about being seen by humans, what with nothing he did having permanence anymore, but he did use a miracle to make himself go unseen anyway, to spare him any hindrance. He wanted to see if anything weird was happening in the atmosphere at the moment he’d disabled the underground. It was easy to follow where the train was: Crowley just had to concentrate on Aziraphale’s aura as he travelled alone, likely wondering where Crowley had got to.

He could picture the angel’s pouty disappointment, then his catty eyebrow raise when he inevitably confronted Crowley about it in some backhanded way the next time they saw each other.

But he won’t remember, Crowley reminded himself, trying to shake himself out of a daze.

Read it on AO3 here

Thank you to my betas: u/PurpleMoonPagan, u/yes-its-unholy and u/hattieinhell

#good omens after dark #goad #good omens #good omens fanfic #writers of after dark #writers guild presents

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amberskyyking · 4 months

Text

Cooking up angst for everyone who still wants to believe 👏 that 👏 man 👏 is 👏 alive 👏 even in canon. Cause he is. Tech lives.

Implications Of Being Alive

Chapter 4 - It Must Still Be Dreaming (Cause The Empire Reeeally Skimps Out On Love And Comfort)

In its dream, Omega had been shivering.

They had just gone over the falls together, one after the other, back in the Ipsium mine, and crawled back out over the slick rocky edge, coughing and spluttering to clear their lungs before collapsing on the ground. The sequence was one that it almost remembered, like a preview playing somewhere distantly in its mind. There would be a beam of warm light, a sense of something akin to understanding, two others who would join them… But before the fullness of the memory could unravel, it took a turn, as Omega turned her body into him, pressing her warm and wet face into his neck.

CX-2 wasn’t expecting that, but the girl was trembling all over, from the chill of the water no doubt. All of their gear was either wet or left behind at the top of the cave where this started. With no other options, CX-2 lifted his organic arm over her to provide what little warmth he- it- HE could. What little was left of it- HIS organic body would have to suffice until the others arrived with a better solution.

Tech held her like that, laying with his back flat against the stone ground, an arm draped over her back, and the dream mercifully stood still. For a time there was only the rushing sound of the waterfall in his ears and Omega’s warmth as she remained there with him. Tech was vaguely aware that his body ached, but that didn’t seem to matter. There had been directives he was to follow, but they could wait. There were some things, some purposes, more important than orders.

When had they ever followed orders, anyways?

Inevitably, though, the dream changed. Omega was pulled away from him, leaving his organic hand grasping at a void in the cold. His body stiffened against the aches as they became more apparent, as the icy haze began to creep up his skin and into its bones…

There were only flashes after that, moments of vague lucidity between heavy, dreamless black.

Voices overlapping. Entirely too distant to decipher any words or attempt to match them to any beings in particular…

The sensation of falling. Familiar. Far too familiar…

Prickling shocks jolting up the nerves in its leg where the prosthetic met organic material…

A sudden awareness that it had failed its objective. It couldn’t recall what its objective was but registering the information at all came with a secondary realization. It… It would be decommissioned, if it even survived. It was no longer worth retrieval or resources to repair, Colonel Bragg had made that abundantly clear, and though it shouldn’t care enough to have a reaction, it seized up at the thought and registered a faint, foreboding beeping sound somewhere nearby. It… It didn’t want that… Yet its wants were irrelevant, it was a flaw to retain desires of its own at all. Perhaps termination was in its best interest if it could no longer perform its functions efficiently, if it had truly served its purpose. It would hardly matter, in any case. CX-2 wasn’t truly alive, so its death would be inconsequential.

No one’s going to terminate you, Tech! A voice broke through its thoughts. It does matter, you’re… You’re going to be okay… You HAVE to be…

Someone’s hand slipped into its own and squeezed it, which made little logical sense. There was no reason to comfort it now, at the end. Colonel Bragg never had before.

This isn’t the end, The voice spoke again, and this time something about it sounded familiar. There was obvious distress in the tone, though, and it tugged at his heart the exact way that nothing was supposed to.

You’re going to pull through, you’re safe now, I - I’m sorry Tech, I’m so sorry! But I’m getting you home, I promise. You’ll see your brothers again, okay? Just please, please hang on…

He wanted to see what was happening, who was speaking, but his eyelids were too heavy. The dream state slowly began to take over, though, and his mind supplied the rest of the image for him, even if it was false. Omega sat at his side, holding tight to his hand with tear tracks running down her cheeks.

Delusions, of course. Nonetheless, Tech squeezed her hand back before the scene dissolved again in black.

- - -

CX-2 hadn’t been activated, but slowly, it blinked itself awake.

It’s location was unknown. This was neither its single-bunk domicile nor its imperial-assigned starfighter. It lay facing up in what appeared to be a sterile white medical bay, though none of the humanoids wore imperial grays and none of the medical droids were the designated approved models…

“You’re awake!” Someone gasped. It turned its head to see who but hesitated. It had been damaged, had it not? Sudden movement could exasperate as much, but oddly, there was very little pain in light of the injuries it was sure it had sustained. The source of the voice made themselves known anyways, though, and in mere seconds an adult human female hovered over it, gathering up its remaining flesh hand in her own despite the hand being cuffed to the side of the medical bed. CX-2 cataloged her appearance as… Familiar.

“Tech?” The woman said cautiously. “It’s me, Tech. It’s Omega. Do… do you remember?”

CX-2 considered this for a moment. It had definitely failed its mission, more of it was coming back now and that much was certain. It never should have failed, it had been warned not to underestimate the rebel astromech unit, and yet, it didn’t consider that the droid was capable of wielding a blaster. The oversight was unacceptable, costing him several detonators and damaging its body beyond what it was capable of repairing in the field or what the Empire would consider a worthwhile investment if it returned. That alone had sealed its fate, yet its objectives were clear. Complete the mission or be terminated in the process.

If it had to be the latter, so be it.

It carried on best it could despite the melted metal and charred flesh compromising its effectiveness. It destroyed a single ship, flushed out its primary target, Hera Syndulla, and downed two more ships in the firefight that followed, though the actions had the unwanted consequence of triggering the rebels evacuation. It sought a hostage to lure its primary target towards, however at least one ship made it to the atmosphere, cementing the mission a failure regardless of the status of its other objectives. It nearly subdued the rebel soldier from the site of the crash, until something… Something had stopped it. An error. A malfunction.

Colonel Bragg had been right about it, after all.

There was more that had happened since then, but CX-2 couldn’t recall it clearly. From what it did know, it must have been dreaming. It wasn’t supposed to dream, though it hardly mattered anymore. It wouldn’t dream for long.

The woman had posed a question, though, so it looked up into her face. She had said she was Omega. She had called it Tech, like in the memories that it no longer had the strength to fight, from a life that didn’t belong to it, back when it almost certainly served a different purpose… When it.. he… had lived.

CX-2 tore its gaze away from the girl and tried to ignore the ache in its chest. It… It must still be dreaming.

Regardless, Omega was waiting for an answer, squeezing his hand even tighter now in apparent anticipation. His brothers had been its enemies once, hadn’t they? Yet that seemed to matter little in the moment. He had all but given up fighting the malfunctions, the memories, before its his latest mission, and now it was going to be decommissioned…

Logically, that rendered the fight pointless. It may still be all in its head, but if he provided her some comfort now, perhaps it would make whatever came next easier to accept.

“You are present within the memories I have retained,” He answered.

Speaking took more effort than he expected and the words came out raspy and tired sounding. It HE was tired. Even now, sleep prodded uncomfortably at his mind, and everything felt hazier than usual… Nonetheless, his confirmation seemed to mean a great deal to Omega, who promptly lost her composure and broke down in a fit of hiccups and tears at his bedside.

“Tech, I - I’m sorry,” She spluttered. “If - If we knew - We should have looked for you-“

“The effort would have been futile,” He attempted to assure her, but she only shook her head.

“I should have ripped the damn helmet off you in your own cockpit on the way to Tantiss-“

The doorway behind her whooshed open, and they both looked up to see a pale clone trooper with cybernetics that Tech recognized near instantly, one of the first names he had unintentionally slotted away years before, despite the fact that he had clearly aged some since they last met.

“Echo,” He identified the clone automatically.

Echo’s eyes widened. “T-Tech…”

“He’s awake!” Omega gasped out between sobs. “And he- he remembers m-me… Us…”

Tech saw Echo swallow hard as he pulled Omega tight against his chest, letting her bury her face in his plastoid armor. Her body began to shake like it had in his dream. Tech still held tight to her hand - something told him that if he let go the dream would end, CX-2 would be all that remained, he would wake up back in the imperial med bay instead of this one, finally facing his own decom and he DIDN’T WANT THAT-

“Easy, Tech,” Echo was saying, there was that high pitched noise coming from somewhere again and Tech was torn from his spiraling thoughts as he craned his neck to identify it. Omega and Echo both faced him with alarmed looks, but as quickly as it started the noise stopped.

“What’s going on?” Omega asked. “Your heart rate just…”

…A heart monitor. Of course. “It’s… Nothing of relevance,” Tech said uncomfortably.

Echo fixed him with a calculating look that he tried to ignore, but the feeling of being searched like that, like after all these years his brother could somehow simply tell when something was being omitted, made him feel distinctly vulnerable.

“Omega… Have you told the others yet?” Echo asked gently.

“N-no… I wanted to make sure-“

“I know,” He said soothingly. “But you shouldn’t put it off anymore. They need to know… And be gentle with Hunter.”

Omega let out a deep, shaky breath, but nodded.

“Do you want me to be with you on the comm?”

“No… Can you stay with him, please? I - I don’t want him to be alone.”

“Can do, kid,” Echo said fondly, ruffling her hair.

Before Tech could protest Omega had squeezed his hand one more time and then let go. For a second panic surged through his chest, the edges of his vision went black, that noise was reverberating throughout the room-

Until Echo grabbed his hand in her place.

“I gotcha, vod. It’s alright. Yes, it’s okay Omega, he’s okay.”

Tech held his breath, but the room didn’t fade away like he expected, even as he felt like he was fighting just to stay awake.

“Well, don’t do that. Remember to breathe, come on now. I… I know a lot has happened.”

Echo’s voice hitched, but it was warm and steady, too. It was okay. He was okay, like Echo said. He was still here, it wasn’t over, not yet. Tech dared to take a breath, then another, and finally, leaned back against the soft pillows again that he had to be imagining, nothing about the Imperial med bay was designed for comfort.

“I’ll be back soon, Tech. Don’t worry,” Omega assured him.

Tech gave the slightest, stiffest nod, and Omega turned away with a shaky exhale. There was the whoosh of a doorway, then silence.

“Good,” Echo said. “Just breathe. You ah… Really had us worried there for a little while, you know,” his brother continued a little awkwardly. “The better part of ten years, actually. When Omega told me…”

Tech waited patiently for him to finish the explanation, but Echo trailed off, his own shoulders shuddering for a moment as he fought to compose himself.

“I’m sorry vod. I… Kriff, there’s no excuse, there’s nothing I can say to explain this, but you’re safe now. We’re never letting you go again, I promise…”

Tech still didn’t want to close his eyes even though they felt heavy, but the effort it took not to do so was increasing. He pulled his gaze away from Echo’s glistening hazel eyes and stared pointedly at the ceiling as he pondered the words. It was a pleasant thought… He wished he could believe it, but he knew better.

None of this would last. It never did.

“You can believe it, Tech,” Echo suddenly insisted, his voice breaking entirely. “But I… I understand why you wouldn’t trust us again, after this…”

Oh. Apparently he had spoken some part of his thoughts out loud.

“‘T’s not your fault,” Tech mumbled truthfully, trying to take stock of his state of being. Perhaps he was on some sort of painkiller which was having an effect on his mind. That would potentially explain the vividness of this particular dream… Though the idea that Colonel Bragg would waste painkillers on it at all was ridiculous.

“They didn’t even give you painkillers?!” Echo spoke up suddenly, his grip on his hand tightening almost uncomfortably. Tech raised an eyebrow in surprise. Echo had gone from emotional and comforting to absolutely seething, and worse, Tech must be looser lipped than he would like to be on the matter. “Kark, they filled you almost as full of hardware as me and-“

Tech snapped its mouth shut. It was saying too much and it HE didn’t want to talk about it.

“It’s okay. We don’t have to talk if you don’t want to-“

Shit.

“Why don’t you just get some sleep-“

“NO!” He nearly shouted, and the alarms began blaring overhead yet again, which seemed counterproductive, it only served to increase the anxiety he was already feeling which was presumably the opposite of the goal of the device.

Echo touched his scomp arm to Tech’s shoulder- He still had the scomp, then, after all this time- and gently pushed him back.

“We’re not giving you back to them, Tech,” Echo said with fierce determination, and for a second, Tech could almost feel it himself. “You’re never going back there. But you need your rest.”

Tech met Echo’s eyes with exhausted desperation. Even though he wanted to stay here forever, the shadows of stasis or sleep or whatever his unconscious state was these days were closing in, he could tell. It… no. HE. He had so little left to keep fighting with.

“I’ll be right here when you wake up again. How’s that sound?”

Tech’s heart was still pounding, everything about his existence felt bleary and heavy, but there was such blinding sincerity on his vod’s face. He… he wanted to believe him…

“You’ll stay?” Tech asked in a voice that was barely a whisper.

“Of course, vod,” Echo said with so much gentleness, unlike anything Tech had heard in years. “Right now there’s nowhere else I’d want to be.”

Tech considered that as his eyelids began to droop. “Omega?” He muttered.

“She’ll be back soon. I couldn’t keep her away if I tried.”

Tech nodded. His eyes wouldn’t stay open anymore. His body ached, his mind was exhausted and pained, its failures of the day and looming fate sapped it of whatever strength it had left. Darkness closed in, and he would simply have to face it…

Echo’s hand was still warm in his own, though, even as his world finally went black and numb once again. Somewhere at the edge of his mind, he even thought he heard Omega’s laugh.

For the briefest second, before stasis overtook it, Tech let himself hope his family would still be there if he woke up again.

Chapter 1: Existing Isn’t Living (But It’s Better Than Being Dead… Right?)

Chapter 2: Serving Purpose (This Might Be Banthashit)

Chapter 3: When A Supply Run Goes Horribly Wrong (Or Right?)

Chapter 4: It Must Still Be Dreaming (Cause The Empire Reeeally Skimps On Love And Comfort)

#tech lives #that man is alive #clone wars fanfiction #star wars fanfiction #the bad batch #starwarsficnetwork #arc trooper echo #clone trooper tech #omega bad batch #the bad batch tech #bad batch fanfic #fix it #the bad batch spoilers #bad batch spoilers

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