#anyway yes I'm fine either join in on the chaos or leave me alone please

[1smolbean]

ok rant (? started out as a rant but descended into chaos) time

no but I find it absolutely fucking hilarious that my parents are like "oh just move on from your trauma" and then don't tell me how to do that, trigger me even when I've told them about my triggers, make me talk to people that trigger me, and make me go to places that trigger me. like...ya think maybe, just maybe, that, idk, I might have trouble moving on from those events if I have to relive them all the time? and I've explained it to them but they just refuse to understand it and they don't understand the word "no" either and I just,,,find this the funniest thing ever cause like they don't fucking understand! they don't! and I've told them but they refuse to! and I'm laughing this is so funny they refuse to understand

I CAN'T STOP LAUGHING I'M SORRY THIS IS SO FUCKING FUNNY LIKE THEY REFUSE TO UNDERSTAND IT AND I,,,,,I JUST JKDJFKDLSJFLDKJFD THEY REFUSE TO GET IT AND THIS IS THE FUNNIEST THING EVER THEY REFUSE TO HELP THEIR CHILD LIVE A HAPPY LIFE

what kind of parent does that? a shitty one. they're the most hypocritical people I've ever met cause THEY'VE moved on from their trauma and they respect each other's triggers and my brother's triggers but like,,,not mine and why? CAUSE THEY'RE BAD AT THEIR JOB. THEY'RE BAD PARENTS and I'm literally laughing so hard this is so funny to me and my mother has said before that she is proud of me for not skipping school because she assumed I would but she's proud that I haven't. like,,,,wow okay I literally have no reason whatsoever to skip school though??? why would you assume that? and idk I just find it hilarious that my mother both expects me to get an A+ on every subject and also skip school. like bitch excuse me? that's...HHJFDHSFKHFDSKH THAT'S FUNNY IT'S FUNNY THIS IS FUNNY. I'M SORRY. I'M REALLY SORRY THIS IS HILARIOUS TO ME AND I WROTE OUT A WHOLE GODDAMN RANT ABOUT THIS BUT IT'S JUST THREE PARAGRAPHS OF ME BEING LIKE "MY PARENTS' HORRIBLE TREATMENT OF ME IS FUNNY" AND LIKE...IT IS THOUGH!

I feel like Alvar Vacker and Winter Schnee right now. like I just,,,this is so funny but I also want to stab something right now. is this normal? I don't think this is normal. I should talk to a therapist or doctor but I'm my own therapist and everybody else's too and idk it just seems...wrong to burden people with MY problems when they have their own. i should stop telling people when I'm sad, they don't need that. No, no but they care. why do they, though? my parents "care." they yell at me, say I'm not enough, tell me it's hard to take care of me, but they care. I guess. i think they care. caring is bad. caring for someone is bad. i shouldn't...i shouldn't trust people, because trust gets you hurt. and i hate being hurt. and i shouldn't care about people. i shouldn't care. do i even care? did i ever care? yes. but i won't anymore.

I have gone back to wishing I could acquaint a ridgdly edged object fundamentally used in the construction of walls with my biological father's facial structure. (translation: ok nvm I wanna hit my dad in the face with a brick)

maybe if you didn't yell at me i wouldn't listen to music so loudly. father

father (derogatory)

i am going to lie down on the floor and listen to Special Girl by dodie until i die

i'm the eldest daughter but I'm not a daughter i'm a son but my parents don't care

i feel nothing but the crushing weight of responsibility on my shoulders

I believe I need a counselor, or therapist, or- no, I have one already, I'm my own therapist

I can deal with this on my own

hey mother when you look through my tumblr and read this PLEASE GET ME SOME ANTIDEPRESSANTS OR ADHD MEDS IM NOT DOING TOO GOOD

the powerpuff girls reboot script made me speedrun the five stages of grief I hate it so much

cats opening partially closed doors with their FACES is wild and I love it

I want more soda.

everything hurts and I'm dying

Okay so what the hell happened here Nina please get yourself into shape you need to figure out why you did a 180 from being sad to being angry to being sad to being angry and also that gender can fluid you really be switching from "gender is for mortals" to "none gender left boy" with your emotions too

this picture of Winter Schnee perfectly encapsulates my mood right now

im in pain everybody! were in pain! specifically in my chest! what the hell is happening with my lungs

nevermind we're good now

YOU WILL NEVER HAVE TO HURT THE WAY YOU KNOW THAT I DOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

I FEEL LIKE I'LL BE OKAY AND I HOPE I CAN JUST MAINTAIN IT I WILL NOT LET MYSELF BECOME MY PROBLEM

AND I'M JUST WAITING FOR THE DAY YOU SAVE ME FROM MYSELF 'CAUSE I CAN'T HELP THE WAY I FEEL FOR YOU FOR YOU

AND WRITE IN EVERY SPACE THE WORDS "I LOVE YOU" IN REPLACE THEN MAYBE TIME WOULD NOT ERASE MEEEEE IF YOU COULD ONLY KNOW I'D NEVER LET YOU GOOOO AND THE WORDS I MOST REGRET ARE THE ONES I NEVER MEANT TO LEEEEEEAAAAVEEEEEEEE UNSAID EMILYYYYYYYYYY

*muffled sobbing*

it's projecting onto fictional characters with trauma hours everybody

DO OR DIE YOU'LL NEVER MAKE ME BECAUSE THE WORLD WILL NEVER TAKE MY HEART GO AND TRY YOU'LL NEVER MAKE ME WE WANT IT ALL WE WANNA PLAY THIS PARY I WON'T EXPLAIN OR SAY I'M SORRY I'M UNASHAMED I'M GONNA SHOE MY SCARS GIVE A CHEAR FOR ALL THE BROKEN LISTEN HERE BECAUSE IT'S WHO WE ARE

hey remember that "fuck therapy I'm becoming a knight" post I spam reblogged yeah that's my current mood rn

anyway that concludes round one of my annual mental breakdown don't worry I'll be back in approximately five minutes after drinking an entire bottle of soda

#don't even know what to tag this with so just. lmk if you want this tagged #coco's annual mental breakdown #that is a tag I'm making that a tag #anyway yes I'm fine either join in on the chaos or leave me alone please

[verbumincarcerem]

The Fanged God

So I started writing this because I wanted to write something dark, something without any good people, something that was solely for me and me alone. The only person in the world who’s ever read this is @editoress, and she? Really loved it? Even said it’s some of my best work, which I do actually agree with?

I was inspired by a few things when I wrote this. Uprooted by Naomi Novick, for one. The Hades/Persephone dynamic, only where Hades is evil and Persephone isn’t too upstanding herself. And then there’s the whole Chaos vs Cosmos thing in Dissidia: Final Fantasy. All of this pushed me to craft this story about a young Sith getting herself entangled with the literal embodiment of the dark side of the Force, the Son. It’s about exploring power and the things we’re willing to do or sacrifice for it--and the things we’re not willing to do or sacrifice. It’s about the things that get taken from us anyway and how we get them back.

Here is the beginning.

I.

They didn't want her to be chosen.  

If this was to be the one time every Sith in their company agreed on something, Melody was glad it was about this. She didn't want to be chosen either. Perhaps Ventress or Savage did, but that was to be expected. They were prone to rash decisions in their mad rushes for power.

She liked to do things a little differently. When it came to attaining power, Melody preferred to take her time, the same way she’d taken her time to assume her Sith title, Darth Inferna.

Melody loved the name, but she loved the one she’d always had with her since birth, too. A weakness of sentiment, as Darth Sidious would only be too pleased to remind her. Maul walked by her side, a fiercely comforting presence, as he drilled her once more. "Don't pull ahead or fall behind. Stay with the pack. Don't do anything to stand out or draw attention. Nothing special, no surprises." It was rare for Maul to say so much in one sitting and so quickly, a sure sign he was worried.   "Yes, master," she said. "No funny business or showing off, I get it. I’ll keep the fireworks to a minimum." But her smile was as feeble as her attempt to lighten the mood. It didn't assure either of them. A tense silence passed and she finally voiced her fear aloud. "But what if I do get chosen?" "You won't," Maul said with utter certainty. "Not if you do as I've ordered." "But what if, despite that, I do?" Maul halted in his tracks and she slowed to her own stop. Blazing, sulfuric eyes bored into her icy blue ones pretending at calm. Maul was the first to break the connection, continuing to stalk forward. He didn't say another word. He didn't have to. The promise of vengeance, of war and destruction in his gaze was all too clear as to what his answer was. 

At least, Melody thought with dry consideration, this event wasn't to be holovised. She'd almost expected it, given the Fanged God's rumored vanity, but in truth the Choosing was rather clandestine. In the end, it made sense. Somewhere else in the galaxy, the Winged Goddess was choosing her own champion, a Champion of Light to pit against the Fanged God's Champion of Darkness. Neither wanted to share information as to who those champions would be. Not for the first time, Melody wondered why all this was necessary. Light and Dark were fighting each other just fine without the gods' interference during the Clone Wars—which had been abruptly halted, the fighting forced to a stop and the lines divided as if the war had never happened to begin with. Melody got the sense that it wasn't so much about the conflict of Light and Dark but about neither immortal wanting to directly and personally fight the other. That was all well and good, but her sympathy was limited, coming to a clear stopping point against anyone who threatened herself and her people.

With one last look, Maul left her to join the other masters, who for reasons unknown were as barred from being a contender as the apprentices were all forced to compete. Dooku didn’t seem to care, but Sidious was furious. Even now she could feel it. It was the only thing about this matter that made her smile. But her smile faded when she thought about Plagueis, at his noticeable lack of reaction, how he’d only wished her luck. It was moments like this one which reminded her that, despite their camaraderie, he was a true enigma, his seeming omniscient wisdom something beyond her reckoning.

Despite the hundreds of people, human and alien alike, gathered in the space—a cross between a training ground and a courtyard—finding Ventress and Savage was remarkably easy. She only had to look for the nearest brawl, which had been swiftly brought to a heel by the sadistic pair.

Ventress had her foot planted on some poor human’s throat, a cruel smile on her serpentine face, while Savage spread the crowd into a wider and wider circle, warding off any would-be rescuers.

Melody slipped right into the circle, and the crowd noted how Savage let her approach. To Ventress, she lifted a dark eyebrow. “"Busy winning friends and influencing people, I see."

Ventress’ throaty laugh was enough to send shivers down any hardened warrior’s spine. She matched Melody’s tight smile with a dark smirk. “I was provoked. Don’t make the same mistake as the General by thinking you hold my leash, Inferna.”

With a pang, Melody was reminded that Grievous hadn’t been allowed into the Choosing, either. Though deadly efficient with a lightsaber or four, he wasn’t a Force user. A real shame. She could have used his gruff humor and sparking anger right about now.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” she said, throwing a pointed look at the human, who was currently having trouble breathing. “But perhaps now isn’t the best time. Save your energy. He’ll be here soon.”

It was the reminder of their would-be host that caused Ventress to draw back than any regard she had towards Melody or mercy in general. She pushed off the human with her foot, leaving him sputtering and coughing as he rose to his elbows. The crowd parted easily for them as she, Melody, and Savage walked on.

“There’s a lot more people here than expected,” Savage noted, his towering mass able to look around them with ease. “Who would have thought that there were so many dark Force users in the galaxy?”

“Maybe they’re not all a part of our galaxy,” Melody noted.

“Does it matter?” Ventress replied. “All of them will fall under my saber regardless. The same is true for either of you if you get in my way.”

Savage scowled, his hand drifting to his own lightsaber. Melody raised her hands in a placating gesture. “He’s all yours, Ven. Honestly, I’d rather take a nap against the wall.”

“But you’ll be competing the same as the rest of us,” Ventress coolly observed.

“Not like I have a choice. Orders are orders.”

“Such a perfect soldier you’ve become,” scoffed Ventress. “At least it’s clear who holds your leash, little dog.”

“Woof,” Melody scoffed right back, not riled by her taunts in the least.

Savage laughed. “I’m sure, Ventress, that Master Dooku will be devastated to hear how badly you want to toss him aside for a new master. I’ll be happy to take your place.”

“My dear, sweet Savage, never fear. I penned him a strongly-worded letter.” Ventress’ saccharine tone was offset by her baleful smile. “But feel free to tell him for me, if you’re still alive.”

Their banter could have continued, would have, if not for the sheer presence that descended on the training ground with all the swiftness and stifling air of a lowering ceiling. Its weight increased, determined to break and crush, and the silence it brought was one of both anticipation and fear.

And even though no one had been in the center of the grounds, suddenly he was, standing in the midst of them.

The Fanged God was even taller than Savage’s seven-foot frame by a few inches, but far lankier, all sharp angles and pointed joints, his black and red garb clinging to him like a second skin. His build wasn’t malnourished or ill fitting, however, as lean muscles broadened his shoulders and defined his long arms, legs, and torso. Red tattoos adorned his bald head as well as under his glowing red eyes—which were stark against solid black sclerae—forming a thin line down both of his high cheekbones. His thin, colorless lips were pulled back in a pleased smile, and when he spoke, his voice was deep but with a deceptively soft edge. It carried effortlessly in the space around all of them, commanding their attention and bringing with it an unseen dread.

“Ah, so many. So many.” He brought a finger to his lips, a pensive gesture, but his quick smile was a joke he wasn’t sharing. “I wonder how many will be left.”

An alien of a species she'd never seen before stepped forward, clicking and spitting in an unknown language, but their inflection was unmistakable. They were issuing a challenge. The Fanged God smiled lazily, hardly bothered by it at all. "Oh, yes, we shall certainly get to it, since you're all so eager." His gaze found hers in the crowd easily, jolting her to attention. But he passed on, sweeping it over the others, and she realized how catching Maul's paranoia over this whole thing was. The god hadn't noticed her, no more than anyone else. He hadn't even been looking at her but at someone behind her. She was fine. "You know what's at stake here,” the Fanged God continued. “The Light has issued us a challenge. It's only sporting that we meet it. Use any weapons or skills you have, crude though they are. Survive until I'm—more or less satisfied." He waved a hand as if he severely doubted that any satisfaction would be met. "I will select my Champion from however many of you are left.

“We will return to Mortis, where you will serve me, and only me, as your true master. There, your training will really begin, until that fateful day where champion is pitted against champion, and then—” Pitiless eyes surveyed each of them, and his razor sharp smile attracted as much as it repelled. “You will win. You will destroy the Light, and the Dark will reign supreme until the next Choosing. And if you do not…”

It was only when he trailed off that Melody noticed the silence. Tense, fearful, rapt. And angry, so destructively angry, barely kept in check by desperation and quiet hysteria. (She wasn’t the only one who didn’t want to be here, whose ambitions lied on other shores.) And it was all feeding him, she knew. He was preening with the pure power of it.

“If you do not, you will die, along with everything you care about.” And with that, he snapped his fingers and the whole terrain underneath them began to shake. Savage and Melody threw alarmed glances at each other as they fought to keep their balance. Next to them, Ventress was steady, her mouth widening in a smug, victorious smirk.   "Do enjoy yourselves." The Fanged God was no longer among them, but his voice sounded clearly and effortlessly over the noise, as if he were bypassing all vibrations of sound to speak right into her head. "I know I will." And then the chaos started.

Melody slowed her sprint to a light jog, keeping an eye on the tree line as she approached the forest.

Three days. She had been out here on this backwater Outer Rim planet, competing in this insane mess, for three days, and she was still alive.

She stopped, panting and leaning a hand against a tree for support. Her blue eyes flicked to her surroundings. No enemies here. She was safe to rest for a moment. Bracing her back against the tree, she uncorked her flask, spilling a few precious drops of water on her parched tongue.

Who else is still alive?

She hadn’t seen Ventress since that first day. With only a final word of warning, she’d leapt into the fray, full of bloodlust and laughter, her lightsabers shattering the chaos as only their distinctive hums could. She and Savage had quickly lost sight of her, leaving the strange courtyard far behind.

The morning of the second day, Melody lost Savage, being separated from him during an ambush. She still had the blood and gore from that encounter coating the front of her tunic and her gloves. She didn’t regret the lives she’d had to take, not when they were so heavily invested in taking hers. But still, she worried about Savage, who didn’t have as much training as either herself or Ventress. It had been three days, and dusk was coming.

Melody glared at nothing in particular and gripped tight the hilt of her lone lightsaber, the last one she had left after its twin had become damaged in a recent skirmish.

What the hell was the Fanged God waiting for?

A sudden disturbance in the Force was the only warning she had. The sound of a singing blade suddenly cut through the air, and Melody dove to the ground just in time.

Igniting her lightsaber, Melody pushed herself to her feet and turned, searching for her assailant.

It was another species of alien she’d never seen, this one with two legs and four arms, built like an ox but with the fur of a bear crossed with a wildcat. His pointed snout was turned up in a snarl, and the axe in his hands was so large it could cut through at least three men at once. The tree, at least, hadn’t made it. The towering pine crashed to the ground, bark flying in all directions, leaving behind a decapitated stump that was almost as tall as she was.

“I’m sorry. Was that supposed to be my head?” She mocked, spinning her lightsaber with an unnecessary flourish. Inferna the Sith had come out to play.

The alien roared at her and charged, handling his axe with obvious finesse and skill. Inferna held her ground, widened her stance, and brought her lightsaber up to block.

The pure energy in her saber sliced clean through whatever metal his axe was made of. She dodged the ricocheting steel, expecting it, and with a final slice, she relieved him of one of his hands.

The alien’s roar this time was full of pain and shock. The remaining half of his axe clattered to the ground between them, his missing hand still wrapped around the handle, and he staggered back, eyeing her red blade with fear. She pursued, stepping forward with light, casual steps, and he swung wildly at her with his remaining hands. Dodging them was child’s play. She wondered if he was so surprised and in pain that he’d forgotten how to access the Force.

It didn’t matter. It was clear that even she didn’t need it for this fight.

“Never seen a lightsaber before, have you?” She smiled. Then, with a quick lunge, she gutted him, the tip of her saber protruding from his back. “That’s too bad. They’re kind of great.”

She cut clean through several organs, scorching his insides, and when she jerked her saber out of him, he was dead before he hit the ground.

On impact, dust and dirt kicked up around his fallen form. She stared down at him for a moment, saw how the red glow of the sun glinted off his metal breastplate and the remaining axe fragments. How archaic, she thought. Then she looked up and took in a truly breathtaking sight. Her lightsaber bled and blended against the harsh sunset like an oil painting. In the far distance beyond the plains, night chased the fleeing sun, the faint light of distant stars dim on the edges.

After so much struggle, so much raging need to survive, peace had descended, just like that, almost as if she’d never even killed another living being. Time marched on. All was forgiven.

She’d taken four steps from the body when her lungs seized and stopped working.

You’re kidding me was her last coherent thought, before her hand came up to claw at her throat, which was working furiously to draw breath and failing. Distantly, she felt her feet leave the ground and kicked out in reflex, but stopped when the movement only expelled her remaining oxygen faster. There wasn’t a single physical block around her throat. Someone was Force choking her to death.

At last, she sensed him, but it was too late to do her any good. Her attacker stepped out from one of the trees, and around her dimming eyesight, she saw that he was a Rodian, a blaster in his hand instead of a lightsaber. His other hand was extended out to her, mimicking a choking gesture.

“I thought that beast would destroy you,” he said in Huttese, closing his grip ever so slowly. “But it seems that pleasure will now belong to me.”

I am not dying at the hands of a Rodian, she snarled to herself, irrationally.

Despite what Maul told her—for surely he didn’t want her to die at the expense of remaining inconspicuous—she kicked out with her right foot, intending to send a burst of fire blazing towards the Rodian to scorch him alive.

But her lack of oxygen made her fire weak. As quickly as it formed, it died, burning a sputtering flicker of light as opposed to the inferno she planned. Darth Inferna, the Firemaker, indeed. The Rodian only laughed at her efforts, and his hand closed. Melody’s vision went black and her heart beat a scattered, terrified rhythm in her chest. Any second now, she was going to die! She was going to—she was going to—

Another roar broke through their surroundings, much more familiar, and Savage was there, barreling straight for them. The Rodian raised his blaster, but it was too late. Savage deflected the first shot with his lightsaber, and the next thing Melody knew, she was on the ground, and she could breathe.

Gasping, she gradually sat up, inhaling large gulps of air into her burning throat, frantic and disoriented. A presence approached her on her left, and she jerked, intending to protect herself, to kill if necessary.

Her lightsaber was blocked by another, and the matching red glow threw her next attacker’s face into a severe light. Deliriously, Melody thought she had attacked her master, that Maul had somehow made his way here, but when he opened his mouth to speak, it wasn’t Maul but Savage that spoke.

“I save your life, and you try to kill me?”

She backed off instantly, internally shaking herself. “Savage. You found me.” She gave herself another shake, another blessed breath, and then she looked at him with utter sincerity. “Thank you.” "Don't mention it," Savage demanded, a gruffness to his usually authoritarian voice. "Do you have any idea what Maul would do to me if I let you die?" "You’re his brother. Whatever you're imagining, I'm sure it wouldn't be that bad.” She smirked, jerking up her chin at movement over Savage’s shoulder. “But here, let me return the favor."

A female Bith rushed them, or tried to. Harnessing all her pent up rage, every shred of fear from her near-death experience, Melody unleashed it all in a wall of fire from her left hand and targeted it at the Bith. The flame consumed her instantly, eating through her flesh like a living thing, and the scream it wrenched from her was the crackling, snapping sharpness of burning wood. A smoking husk fell to the ground, the fire still greedily consuming it, but neither remaining Sith had time to celebrate their victory. That scream had attracted others as had her display of power. Soon, Inferna and Savage were surrounded again, but instead of separating, this time they stuck together.

Two more days passed. There was still no sign of Ventress.

After a week, it appeared that the Fanged God had finally grown satisfied. Or bored.

One moment, Melody was with Savage, picking their way through a series of crystal caves, and the next, they were back in the courtyard, along with the other survivors, whisked there as effortlessly as they had all been initially to this single point in the galaxy.

There weren’t many. Where hundreds of Sith apprentices and dark Force users once stood, only around twenty were left alive and mostly whole. A human female lay on the ground, clutching what remained of her leg, and a Twi’lek sat against a wall, dazed and unseeing as if his body had made it through but his mind had not.

Melody spun and searched the crowd frantically, looking for the familiar lithe frame; the dark, faded markings; the twin, curve-handled lightsabers.

“There!” Savage pointed, and Melody breathed a sigh of relief.

Ventress, for her part, scowled when she saw them. She sauntered their way, barely any the worse for wear aside from her own gory tales marring her smooth face, and the disgust perched there was unmistakable.

“Are you two still living?”

“You’d miss us if we weren’t,” said Melody. She would have embraced the Dathomirian if it weren’t an almost certainty that Ventress would kill her. Quite frankly, Melody didn’t want to have come all this way just to die like that. She would have been better off with the Rodian.

But her good mood ended when the air shifted, becoming cold and stifling all at once.

The Fanged God’s voice commanded the very air they breathed. “Well, now. There are certainly less of you than I hoped.” He emerged from pure darkness, free of both light and shadow, and stepped forward, gazing at them all with mild interest. He steepled his long, gloved fingers, tip to tip, and said with a mocking smile, “But definitely more than I expected.”

Melody knew about toying with her opponents; she did it often, especially if she felt they deserved it. But this was different. This was all a sick game to him. Their lives meant nothing in the end. Only his Champion mattered, and even that was debatable. She glared at him with hatred and fury, the feelings coming innately in his presence or perhaps because of it, and she hoped he felt them.

Instinctively, they all seemed to know what he wanted. One by one, the survivors—the ones who could stand—lined up single file, knuckles white around their weapons, prepared to defend themselves if necessary. Just how they intended to go about doing that against a god—against the living embodiment of the dark side—was a mystery that no one wanted to think too hard about.

Melody brushed shoulders against a fellow human who flinched away from her. She barely sparred him a glance. He had enough demons to fight without her adding one more to the list. Savage stood strong and vigilant beside her with Ventress on his opposite side, one hand perched on her hip, utterly assured. She was just waiting to be named the victor.

Melody almost hoped that Ventress was the one chosen. As much as she didn’t want her to go, Melody believed that Ventress was by far the most prepared, the most skilled out of all of them. For as long as Melody had known her, her proficiency and relationship with the dark side had never wavered.

Like they were cattle and he the wealthiest, pickiest buyer, the Fanged God strolled lazily down their line, sizing them up one by one. To some, he stopped to speak, adopting that strange tone that was painfully earnest and teasing all at once. Melody allowed herself to relax, to zone out. She wouldn’t be chosen. She knew it. She’d narrowly avoided being killed, and even though she’d survived, she never once did anything substantial or noteworthy, aside from perhaps saving Savage’s life. But that was hardly something that appealed to the dark side. That was weakness, that was—

“Ah, yes. You.” The Fanged God’s voice rumbled from right over her head, shocking her back to the present. The cool material of his glove brushed her face, tilting her chin up so that she met his unnerving gaze. Her neck craned back painfully to take in his height, but she kept her features blank and uninteresting. He only moved closer to her, studying every facet he could. “Tell me. Is it the rage that hides the sentiment, or the sentiment that hides the rage?”

She clenched her jaw and remained stubbornly silent. He didn’t seem to mind.

“And pyrokinesis. Not exactly a common power in mortals, but nothing special.” He tilted his head, eyes tracing her brow, the straight line of her nose, her lips, before flicking back to her eyes, searing and determined. “But what you did wasn’t mere generation, was it? There weren’t enough molecules to manipulate to create a fire that powerful. They were just the flint; your emotions were the fuel. And in the end, there was nothing left of the body. What you did was pure creation and destruction both.”

He released her and stepped back, assessing her for one final time. Melody kept waiting for him to move on, but he didn’t. In fact, he never once looked away from her, and his smile was turning towards both dark and gleeful.

“Yes,” he breathed, the hunger evident in his eyes and his voice, “you’re the one I want.”

“What?” Ventress hissed and stepped forward, but Savage held her back, eyes steady and wary on them. Melody barely perceived anything beyond the Fanged God’s sly smile and the hand he reached out to her, expectant and pleased.

But Melody knew the truth that very few of her kind wanted to admit. The dark side was a relentless temptation, looking for the most opportune moment to appear, waiting until you were at your most vulnerable, the most desperate, and then it would appear like a reassuring friend, like a panacea for all your despair. It dressed itself in the most attractive splendor, choosing the form of the poison you wanted most. But in the end, the dark side could only tempt you. It couldn’t force you.

The decision to choose it, to use it, was yours alone.

So in the end, it was obvious what she had to do.

“Not interested,” she said softly, steel wrapped in silk. She stared him down, and that by itself was one of the most terrifying things she’d ever done, including the fortnight Maul had once spent hunting her down, all in the name of training. “Choose someone else.”

His smile faltered at first, but when it returned, it was tinged with regret, with something akin to pity. But those same emotions weren’t in his eyes; there was only a depthless, remorseless cruelty inside those glowing red orbs and the dark that surrounded them. It dawned on Melody then that her truth was a lie, that she was wrong about the dark side, so very, very wrong.

And with a mere eight words, the Fanged God proved it. “Then I guess I’ll have to force you.”

That’s when the screams started to erupt all around her.

#otp: until you're mine #the chosen one au #zacksfairest #the fanged god