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elmidol · 4 years

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Broken Memories

Three Blind Tooke Part Two Precarious Harmony

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Warnings: mind invasion

Three Blind Tooke

Part Two: Precarious Harmony

Chapter Thirty: Broken Memories

Supreme Leader Snoke was far too cruel to allow you to slip away into a state of despair while alone. He lingered there in the quarters of his apprentice, his laughter mocking as he stepped closer to you again. The man would not kneel to anyone. When he wanted to peer at your face, a single finger of his twitched. You rose into the air. It felt like a vice was gripping your arms. The weight was greater than any Kylo Ren had ever placed on you. Your body floated in the air closer to him. Your face was mere inches from his. Snoke lifted a single hand, once more touching your cheek.

It felt as though he were looking through you. Into your mind, your memories. His presence served to further pervert them. He voyeuristically rummaged through your head. You could feel him prodding at the memories of Kylo Ren manipulating you with the Force. All those dark deeds. The moments wherein you reacted violently. Each thing that dragged the former Ben Solo further into the Dark side of the Force. Every time he acted as the creature known as Kylo Ren.

The pads of three fingers brushed back and forth along your flesh. Snoke was speaking although you could not hear what it was he said. You were whimpering, panting. It hurt. Far more intensely than any time Kylo Ren had delved into your head with the mind probe. The Supreme Leader of the First Order did not care if he caused you pain or discomfort. There was no mercy from him.

There was a sensation of being torn in half, the barriers in your mind ripped to shreds.

Ip held onto you, the man having grabbed your shoulders and hauled you backwards when you had lunged for one of your superiors. The woman had not believed you could take it, knowing that Kylo Ren was a human. She doubted that you would be able to pull the trigger when the time came. You refused to be removed from the splinter cell. If Ip had not disagreed with your superior, you would have been. Even still, she claimed that she would be putting a mark in your file. You had given up everything to be where you were.

Twisting around, you glowered at the man who was training you. “I won’t fail. She’s wrong.”

“I know,” he said, his lips sliding into a lazy smirk. “Punching her isn’t going to change that. It’ll get you booted for real.” He shook his head. “You need to think about things beyond Kylo Ren.”

Snoke lingered on these memories of Ip. The man was already dead, having been killed by Kylo Ren, and yet they seemed to hold the Supreme Leader’s interest. Perhaps it was the trust you had placed in Ip. The way you had slept in his bed after some of your nightmares wherein Ren toyed with your innards. Your relationship with your instructor had toed the line of being inappropriate. After he had gone, you had wondered what it would have been like to lose your virginity to him. A quick thought that flittered away without much musing. You had been waiting for the officer who was to be your target to depart from the shuttle. Your scope was trained on the ramp. One of the other officers leaned forward, pressing his lips against those of his female companion. It was in that brief moment that you had thought of Ip. His lips. Then, as your mind flashed to naked flesh and mingled bodies, your target began to walk down the ramp. You returned to the present, your finger pulling the trigger.

A hum escaped Snoke as he observed this. The pressure in your mind increased. You were Ren’s prisoner. He had forced you to violate yourself on his lightsaber hilt, and the cell you were in was cold. The first time you were brought to orgasm. Snoke chuckled in unison with his apprentice calling you Resistance scum.

As with Kylo Ren, Snoke was another individual with whom you refused to beg. He was breaking through so many of your barriers, taking your memories as though you were a book to read at his leisure. There was a pause in the pain when he arrived at the memory you had of Ren bringing you the tooke hairclip.

“There it is. His weakness,” Snoke mused. “Compassion.” The fingers on your cheek stroked you again. “You left it on the Finalizer. Poor thing—you miss it.” You felt like a speck of dirt as he chuckled at your expense again.

With a wave of his hand, you were moved away from him, pushed down onto the bed. You knit your brow as sweat gathered on your flesh. Snoke slipped into a new corridor of your mind. This time he was exploring your childhood. It was before the Resistance, pre-Kylo Ren. You were so small—and your father. Your father was alive He was one person you did not want Snoke to touch. The creature toying with you had to know this, and yet he did not care. If anything, it caused the cranial pressure to increase. He wanted to shatter any barrier you attempted to place before him. You could not protect the memory of your father, and that stung.

Your father poured the brown liquid into the two cups. You had your arms crossed in front of yourself, hands patting the counter as you wiggled in your seat, swinging your legs back and forth. In your excitement, you were unable to keep still. Your mother had made you cocoa in the past, however your father had informed you that this was a special blend. It would be more delicious, he promised. You missed the traces of fear in his eyes, the man worried that you would be disappointed. Licking your lips, you perked up. Your father slid your glass closer to you.

As you were about to take a sip, he reminded you to be patient. His laughter reached your ears, causing you to scrunch up your nose and giggle in delight. “I wanna taste it!” you said, bouncing in your seat again.

“Blow on it first,” he said with a fond smile. He then puckered his lips, releasing a steady stream of air. You mimicked his actions. The water was not boiling hot; he knew of your limited patience, and so had heated the liquid only enough that it would taste right.

When your father lifted his cup, you copied this too. You drank some of the liquid, your pupils dilating. A squeal of joy left you. It was delicious! Your favorite flavor of hot chocolate. “I love it!” you said, flashing him a tooth-filled grin. Your father returned your smile, albeit with a closed mouth. He stared at you with affection, reaching forward with his free hand and caressing the side of your head. You were drinking more of the liquid, and yet you still leaned into his touch.

“There it is,” Snoke said.

The ceiling had become a blur through your tears. Sobs wracked your frame. The pain of the tendrils lancing through you subsided, however the agony remained. The sensation of being violated. The knowledge that this was how Kylo Ren had known your favorite flavor of hot chocolate. He had, at one point, seen this memory. When? When had he seen it?

“He hated you for this,” the man in gold said. “It was the first memory that grabbed his attention when he was in your head. I remember my apprentice thinking it was nothing, that it had no effect on him. And yet I knew better. This would fuel his hatred for his father. Han Solo was not like the man who raised you. Ren was jealous. His envy festering. He saw that little girl—and he wanted to shatter her.

“Such…darkness.” It felt as though you could not breathe. Your chest tightened, throat clenching around nothing. Snoke was not manipulating the Force, or at least not in any way that influenced you. What was grasping you now was utter agony.

Kylo Ren had shattered that little girl with his actions. By merely existing, by turning away from the Light, he had, in essence, altered you. You were not that little girl. War had ensured that you would grow up into someone different.

He had seen that little girl—is that why he had purchased the tooke hair clip? Not only because he had stolen away your future, any chance you had of giving birth to a daughter or child of your own; but because he had seen the child version of you. He had hated you. That rang through your mind, mingling with Kylo Ren’s admission: I saw that I would care for you, tooke.

But it was true, wasn’t it? Snoke was not in any way lying.

I wanted to destroy you in order to…make you…unlovable.

It had never sunk so deeply into you that his sentiments had formed based on jealousy. He had seen you as a little girl; while attempting to break through the woman you had become to gain access to information on the Resistance, he had caught glimpses of your past. Your relationship with your father, something he had not had. The creature of darkness had wanted to kill the child within you. Destroy that smiling face.

Why had he bothered to purchase the tooke hairclip? This question you found yourself asking anew. The man who had admitted his love for you was a stranger. You did not know him, not really. He knew you though. It was terrifying to you. How much of you did he know?

The sound of the door the closing registered in your head. You had not realized that Supreme Leader Snoke and his guards had made to leave Kylo Ren’s quarters. It was not loneliness that you felt in the absence of his presence. Nor was it a sense of peaceful solitude. Tears were pouring from your eyes. There were pieces of your memories popping at random. As though Snoke had shattered your mind, and you didn’t know how to pick them up—those pieces. You had no idea how to sort through them. Were you to rearrange them? Discard them?

That smiling, laughing little girl sipping hot chocolate with her father.

That was you. That had been you. It wasn’t you. Not anymore.

You wrapped your arms around your midsection, rolling over and dragging your knees up towards your belly. Your face was buried against the mattress. It hurt to breathe. It hurt to exist. In all the time you had been with Kylo Ren, you had never realized how hateful and envious he had been. How much he had grabbed at you, dragging you down to his level. He had turned you into this monster that was willing to use Rey as a tool. He had taken that little girl and transformed her into something else.

He hated you for this

That you had been happy? That you had once been a child filled with hope and love?

Let the past die

Hadn’t he already killed it—your past? It was sullied by his deeds, by Snoke’s invasion into your mind. There was no apology from him. He had sunk his claws into you, and—

“Tooke.”

You did not want to be a tooke, a small creature that was easily maimed. A tooka, at least, had claws. This rancor would devour you, killing you while also sacrificing its own life. Toxic. Self-destructive. Selfish.

It hurt to breathe, much less shift away from the touch of his hand on your back. The mattress shifted under his added weight. The undulation made you sick to your stomach

Your skin felt as though it were on fire. His touch burned, and yet you did not have the strength the bat it away. Kylo Ren brushed at your hair. A light pressure on the back of your neck felt as though something scalding hot had met your flesh. You trembled. Then found that your body could not stop shaking. Your teeth clattered noisily together. Two hands were on you now, manipulating your body, rolling you onto your back.

Vision blurred from your tears, you sobbed and stared up at him. His face was distorted. Yet he seemed as though he, too, had cried. There was a redness to his eyes, although you could not tell if this was due to your own current state. You could be seeing things that were not that. Not that it mattered to you. You wished Kylo Ren would leave you. He was no longer the person you believed you had come to know. This was not the man who had claimed to love you nor the creature who had once pierced you with his plasma blade. He was…a stranger.

The sensation of being in bed with a stranger remained as you continued to lay there with him. Kylo Ren had lowered himself onto the mattress beside you, though his body was angled away from yours. He was speaking to you, and you wished he would stop. That soft voice whispered of the connection he had with Rey, musing how she searched even now for a father figure—such a punch to the gut this was for you. Han Solo then Luke. You agonized over the memory of your father that had been perverted by Snoke. You could not tell Kylo Ren this; he had to know already that Snoke had been inside your head. He was being far too careful, too gentle…as though he truly did care for you. The thought made you gag, which hurt your throat.

Then there it was. Kylo Ren admitting aloud that he was a monster. There was this thickness to his voice that allowed you to know he had shed tears. These were words he had said to the girl, Rey. Admitting that he was a monster. How long ago had the connection taken place? It hardly mattered in the longrun.

You parted your lips to release a small sigh whilst staring up at the ceiling. This bed was larger than the one you had shared with him on the Finalizer or even on Starkiller. It would allow for there to be a larger gap of distance between your body and his. Despite this, he did not allow for a larger separation. The mattress shifted enough for you to feel the moment the man tensed. You heard a sharp inhalation of breath, and your eyes turned to him. Your mind took longer to process what was occurring. Yet when it did…

This complicated connection, the bridge between his mind and the girl’s, was something you found yourself growing envious of. You longed to be connected to someone from the Resistance. A mind outside of the First Order. This was another thing that drove the wedge between you and the Kylo Ren you had slowly come to know. This was an aspect of him that now made him a stranger. There was something far less intimate in sharing his bed. He wanted to use you to turn Rey into a tool. And you… You would not be able to see the changes in the woman, not really. Even if you did one day look upon her face, you would not have seen who she had been before the influence.

You would never know the girl she had been, which parts of her would forever be shattered.

Lying there, you waited for Kylo Ren to speak. You could see his eyes moving about in the darkness of the room. His nose scrunching for a moment, the same it did whenever you had referred to him as a monster. This woman truly was like you in many respects then. You longed to meet her, wished that you, too, had a connection so that you could at last decide how deeply you wanted to be involved in Kylo Ren’s plot to bring her closer. Snoke did need to die, this was a certainty.

“I am listening.” Softly spoken though with an edge of annoyance. Kylo Ren shifted on the bed again, his hand reaching to the side and touching your hip. “Yes. From the Resistance.”

If you had not known of the connection with Rey, you would have believed that Kylo had lost his mind. He did not talk in his sleep, and he was clearly awake. You looked around, as though you could somehow peer through whatever distance it was that separated you and Rey. It was the only thing your exhausted mind wanted. The sliver of hope that her existence offered. The hope that all you endured would be worth it in the end.

“A little tooke.”

Your heart fluttered in your chest as you realized that the girl from Jakku was asking about you. The way Kylo Ren sat up, his brow knitting as though he was not accustomed to anything less than animosity from her—you knew that she was genuinely curious, and this baffled him. Perhaps he was thinking of the way he had taunted and teased you about her. He may not have realized that there could be a possibility that Rey would become genuinely intrigued by you. His was a selfish love, you remembered. He did love you in a way; and he loved the idea that Rey would join him in changing the galaxy and ruling over it.

There was nothing tangible for you to hold onto anymore; Snoke had ensured that this was so. All that had been building between you and Ren had shattered, the shards cutting deeply as you tried to sort through the pieces. He would not leave your side; he had proven this by revealing your existence to the girl you had never met. So much had been taken from you, and you thus grasped desperately onto hope, onto all that Rey did and could represent. “Is she being trained?” The words tumbled out of your mouth. In the past, you may have despised the idea that you could sound so desperate and hopeful. Your throat felt raw, and it only then dawned on you that you had been screaming in pain when Snoke had been assaulting you, had been tearing through your memories. Ren’s eyes flicked to you then returned straight ahead. “Kylo, is—“

“Shh, tooke.” The muscles in your legs tensed up. You lurched forward, shoving at his chest. He rocked but a little. You had hardly expected there to be any results. You were sore, exhausted. “No. She—what of Skywalker?” A pause. “We aren’t speaking of her.”

“Kylo!” The way he swayed gave the impression that your calling his name had occurred in unison with Rey referring to him in some way as well; be it monster or Kylo, you did not know. One thing was for certain, however, and that was the way his bottom lip began to pucker forward in a pout. He did not want to be sidelined, to play the middleman. A selfish part of you, which was growing in size, hardly cared. You wanted to know what she was saying, to form a bond with her. She was your hope, what was keeping you from falling into a pit of despair as Snoke threatened to take away all that could mean anything at all to you. He had already robbed you of so much.

Allowing his head to loll to the side, Kylo Ren heaved out a sigh. “She survived my blade. A splinter cell of the Resistance, devoted to killing me.” Another pause as the other woman spoke. “Yes. I am a monster—and tooke…claims that she slays them.” His lips curled upwards in amusement. You wondered if he realized he had allowed fondness to slip into his tone as he uttered your nickname. Rey must have heard it as well; she had to have commented on it. If not for the darkness in the room, you knew that you would have seen his face grow pale. “She would not join you.”

“Yes, I would,” you said, feeling your heart beginning to race anew. The Resistance would consider sidelining you. They would not find you worthy to join them in the same capacity that you had been prior to becoming Kylo Ren’s prisoner or guest. But Rey… She wanted you. Kylo scowled, the man glowering as he sent you a look of warning. “I would join her in a heartbeat. I love her.”

“You don’t love her, you haven’t met her,” he countered—and immediately realized his mistake. His eyes widened, and he looked in the direction of Rey. There was a sort of snap, the man jerking as though some door had been slammed. The connection was ended, although you did not know if it had been due to either his or her will. “You should not cling to her for hope, tooke. Not until she learns.”

Learns to submit to Kylo Ren? Learns to join the Dark side? Learns…what?

You wanted to ask him, and yet you doubted that he would give you a truthful response. He could not chance you learning too much, not with you now in such close proximity to Supreme Leader Snoke. You being present during his conversation with Rey was risk enough.

With the connection broken, however, you found that it hardly mattered in the end. This man transformed once more into being a stranger. A monster, as he had claimed. The monster who had seen the memories you had once held—a little girl with her father. You curled up and rolled onto your side to face away from him. There was an immediate shift on the bed, his body pressed up against yours. You felt the fire of contact. Behind you, he said something and yet your ears failed to catch what it was. A repetition allowed you to know. Your name. “Don’t call me that,” you said, your mind flashing to the moment with your father.

He hated you for this.

More than anything, you missed having an ally you could trust with your life. For all the honesty that has been in Kylo Ren’s declaration of love for you, they could never erase that moment where he had hated you. Despised you enough to act on his jealousy. Perhaps he had hesitated when seeking to violate you; yet that hesitation had not ultimately prevented him from hurting you. It was now that you found you would not be able to kill the past that existed between you. Even with everything changing now that Snoke had had General Hux bring you aboard the Supremacy, there were things that refused to fade. And despite the man being almost a stranger to you know, you remained well-acquaintanted enough to be aware that if you spoke these thoughts aloud, he would accuse you of not trying hard enough.

Kylo Ren did not repeat your name. Nor did he draw away from you. If anything, he pressed closer. You breathed unevenly, lips parting as you attempted to drag in more air. The pain would not leave you. A small part of you did not shy away from his attentions. That heated touch kept you grounded.

You sifted through the pieces of your memories, mingling them with the hope of Rey. They were somehow ties together, Ren and Rey. And you...you were somewhere with them, wrapped up in their story as General Hux greedily latched onto the loose threads of your strings. He wanted you to spy on Snoke, the very being who had so easily shattered what had been left of your resolve.

Would all of this hurt as much if you had lost your virginity to Ip instead of the creature you has hunted for so long?

It would have been worse, you mused; Kylo Ren had murdered Ip. That would have torn you into pieces. And perhaps the Force user never would have touched you. Maybe you would have burned with your allies. Without a fear to touch yourself...he may have used your father against you. Ip.

Objectify and demonize.

The words rang through clear in your head. You gripped these pieces of memory tightly. It was Kylo Ren’s voice, a moment with him that Snoke could never destroy. Honesty, cruel and logical. Supreme Leader Snoke had done just this, hadn't he? Objectified you. Demonized your memories and any hope you could potentially place in Kylo Ren. This stranger, this creature...this man who was perhaps one of the few who could stand a chance against Snoke.

You thought of the tooke hairclip, only to recoil. Hot chocolate laced with sedatives. He had hated you for that memory with your father, and yet how desperately he has latched onto it, had carried it with him. Envious. Wanting.

It was...sad.

You had hated him as well, this was another truth. When you had learned of Kylo Ren’s past as Ben Solo, a spark of pity had blossomed within you. Snoke threatened to snuff it out, using your hatred and hurt as a weapon against you. He was an experienced puppet master. Had he not already admitted to driving a wedge between Kylo Ren and General Hux? A wedge based on hatred. On fear. On perverting anything that may have otherwise brought them together, united against Snoke himself.

This knowledge did little to lessen the discomfort you felt when the man behind you slipped an arm underneath your body. He again rolled you over, this time ensuring that you faced him. You did not have the strength to fight him. His movements did not stop there. He cradled your body, gentle in a way you were vaguely familiar with now, as he maneuvered the blankets downwards. He pushed them past the weight of your body and laid your head upon the pillow. Ren appeared to sense that your pain was a combination of emotional and physical hurts. He refrained from saying your name again, did not address you as tooke either.

His eyes would not leave you. You could see him in your peripheral, the way he was propped up and observing your every action. Each breath you took. Every time you blinked. The way more tears slipped from your eyes, though this time not enough to distort your vision as badly as before. Kylo seemed to be trying to discern what it was, exactly, that Snoke had done to you. What he had dragged from you. Short of him forcing his way into your head, he would not be given the answer so easily. Oh, he would speculate. He had to be trying to piece it all together. The way you vehemently refused to release the idea of Rey, that you loved what she stood for.

She was your hope, and Ren was not. That had to hurt him, a blow to his pride. That Rey seemed to reciprocate your interest—did Ren despise this, or was it something that would grow on him?

Kylo Ren lifted the sheet, covering your body with it. The material stopped at the middle of your arm. That you continued to ache as a result of Snoke’s intrusion revealed to you that Ren had held back at times. He could have destroyed your mind similarly, albeit not as efficiently, as his master had. His attempts to dig into your head for information on the Resistance—he had been distracted many times by the memories you had put forth. Such as the one of your father and the hot chocolate. For Snoke, it had been what he was looking for, and that was why he had paused there.

“It feels like it all exploded. There’s…everything’s scrambled. Broken.” The thickness in your throat increased, threatening to choke you. You dropped your voice to a whisper though it had already been quiet. “You’re the monster who killed my childhood.”

Air escaped him in an audible whoosh. Ren cradled your head in one hand. You noticed only now that he was not wearing his gloves. He must have removed the layer of leather upon seeing you on the bed. How had you missed this? The Force user pulled away from you, rising from the bed so that the mattress shifted. You swallowed thickly, forcing bile back down as its rocking irritated you. He was speaking into something. A comlink. You heard something about food and a physician or med droid.

You felt worse than when he had given you a concussion. Your thoughts were beginning to meld together. Now that there was a lack of adrenaline pumping coursing through you—Rey was not connected with Ren, not speaking to him, which meant little excitement or hope for you—you were spiraling downwards. Again scrambling with the pieces of everything Snoke had shattered. The barriers. Your moments with Kylo Ren. Your interactions with General Hux. Your father. Your mother. The Resistance.

On a thread.

The sheet felt hot on your skin. Yet you were shaking, trembling. Hot and cold at the same time. The strain that had been placed on your body due to Snoke’s invasion was too much for you to handle. You silently cursed your limitations, never having felt them quite as you now did. Kylo Ren returned to you. This time when he grabbed the sheet, it was to remove it from your body. Both of his arms slipped underneath you. With little effort, he lifted you up off the bed and carried you in the direction of the refresher. You were laid down on the floor. Next you heard water running. Doors opening. The sound of a droid entering the man’s quarters. Footsteps.

A fever, the med droid chirped. You had already come to this conclusion. Kylo Ren must have as well, the man setting a cold, damp washcloth on your wrist in an attempt to bring down your temperature.

“Administer medication to—“

“Supreme Leader Snoke has forbidden the treatment of Resistance scum,” the droid responded, cutting off Kylo Ren.

It now made sense. You being brought aboard the Supremacy. Snoke visiting you in Kylo Ren’s quarters. He wanted to show his apprentice just how helpless and…weak…he was. Compassion was Kylo Ren’s weakness, though he experienced it rarely. He had not reacted kindly to your previous death. You wondered, feverishly, how he would react this time.

With a curse leaving his lips, Kylo Ren grabbed his shirt, pulling it off. He kicked off his shoes as well, working himself out of his pants and then beginning to strip you. Kylo Ren cradled you as lukewarm water lapped at your skin. The footsteps you had heard coming from the quarters now entered the refresher. A cup of flavored ice chips was placed on the edge of the tub. You could smell the sickeningly sweet flavor syrup. You moaned, feeling the body behind you shift. Ren grabbed the spoon that was in the cup, scooping up some of the ice chip and slipping them into your mouth. You swallowed, gagging and choking. Some slipped out of your mouth and into the water that was filling the bath.

You could not focus on anything, not fully. The exhaustion only grew. You were tired.

Your mother helped to adjust your arms as you attempted to mimic the dance you had observe. It was a traditional dance of Naboo, and you had asked to learn. Your father was sitting in a chair, humming as he watched you with your mother. You felt your cheeks growing hot as you listened to your mother’s critique. The next time you positioned your hands, your mother did not correct you. You smiled and felt pleased with yourself. She began to lead you in the dance.

It had been the same dance that Kylo Ren had led you in one you were his prisoner.

You sat beside your father as he recounted a tale from the Rebellion. It was one your mother had told you, one of your favorites. Mon Mothma had shared it with her, a story of Leia Organa. It was one more girlish thing that you enjoyed, the tale of a princess falling in love with a smuggler as they fought against the evil empire. When it was mentioned that they had a child together, you shook your head. You didn’t want to hear about the son—you wanted the war stories. The tales of love, of daring adventures. The son, a boy named Ben Solo, was the aftermath. That wasn’t the part that grabbed you. You wanted to hear of heroes, not their children.

The sound of metal creaking…denting…hisses of electricity. A droid screaming. Theses noises momentarily lured you back into the present. The med droid had repeated its refusal to treat you, and thus it was being assault with the Force. Another spoonful of ice chips was shoveled into your mouth. You did not have the strength to chew. Kylo Ren tilted back your head. Your throat bobbed, the liquid slipping down as the chips melted. There was a gurgle of the water being drained. Next came the sound of more being poured in. The temperature was a little cooler than it had been the previous time. Or perhaps your fever was dwindling. You could not say.

More often than not, your mother did not bring you along when she was traveling with the Naboo senator. Your father would watch you when you were not in school. This time, however, both you and your father were going along. You caught the tail end of a discussion regarding who would be present. The former-smuggler, Han Solo, was teaching children about racing. Though you always enjoyed tales of his heroics, the idea of racing did not interest you much. Namely because you were aware your mother would never allow you to participate. You would have to run away if you ever wished to do something of that nature.

Leia Organa was there as well. You assumed that their son would be present, or else he could be with tutors—you had never paid much attention to what sort of upbringing he was experiencing.

The planet, though warm to many, was cooler than Naboo. You greedily soaked in the sun whenever you found patches of light. Your mother was occupied with her duty, and your father, though nearby, was content with taking some down side to read an article regarding some of the races. There were children your age playing. A few had attempted to engage you, and though you had politely responded, you remained alone. One of the boys in a group of children threw back his head and laughed as he scored a point in whatever game they were playing. You found yourself looking his way.

He seemed so proud of himself. The children with him were grinning, no one being a sore loser although one of the other boys pushed at his arm. The first boy—dark haired, brown eyed—returned the shove. Not malicious. Typical rough housing, which you had observed even on Naboo. They broke apart, the smaller, lighter haired boy rolling away. The dark-haired child leapt onto his feet, pausing when his eyes landed on you. He blinked, tilting his head to the side as he gazed at you with an air of curiosity.

You squirmed under his scrutiny, hating the attention. In an attempt to dissuade him from looking much longer, you stuck out your tongue. The boy wrinkled his nose in delight, mimicking the gesture then laughing. He shook his head, turning away from you and running to rejoin the group, which had already started to walk away so that they could retrieve the ball they were playing with.

Alone once more, you curled up on the grass to continue soaking up the sun. The darkness behind your closed eyes grew. You furrowed your brow, peeking open one eye. Your other eye snapped open, a gasp escaping you as lips neared yours—your father shouted, and the boy startled before he could kiss you. He looked over his shoulder at your father. Your heart was racing in your chest. The boy was on his hands and knees behind you. You tilted back your head to better peer up at him. His cheeks were red with embarrassment over being chastised by your father.

“A…a dare!” he shouted back when your father repeated the question: what did he think he was doing? The dark-haired boy pointed in the direction of the group of children, all of whom were giggling and cackling like mad.

“This is one dare you are not going to complete,” your father said, keeping his tone level without being overly threatening. The boy nodded, seeming properly chastened. When he looked down at you, however, there was a mischievous glint in his eye. He puckered his lips, made a smacking sound, and then laughed when you squealed with indignation. The boy leapt up to his feet and ran off. This time, he did not return.

When you awoke, you were dressed in a loose shirt; one of Kylo Ren’s shirts, and nothing more. Your body and head both throbbed, sensations of pain lancing through you when you shifted. You groaned, earning a sigh from the body that was beside you. Kylo reached past you, the tips of his fingers meeting your lips as he murmured she’s awake. You did not need to ask to know that he was currently in a chat session with Rey. That he made note of your state allowed for the awareness that Rey had been asking after you

“You knew how to treat a fever like this…” His tone was thoughtful. “I told you… I had no shirt because I was taking care of her.” Ren again sighed, acting for all the world like he was dealing with an obstinate child. “Yes, she knows I killed him.”

She was asking about Han Solo, questioning whether or not you were aware that the man in bed with you had killed his father. It was… It was tender and sweet, the way she cared for you already despite having never met you. It increased your longing to meet her. At the same time, you worried that her knowledge of your presence—your existence—was doing nothing more than humanizing Kylo Ren to her; that she would be drawn into the Dark side of the Force.

But what if she truly could help him realize the fault in his ways? You had for so long attempted to tell him the flaws of the First Order, just the same as he had attempted to do so with you in regards to the Resistance.

“Sore,” you murmured hoarsely, your hand going to your throat. Kylo Ren twisted, grabbed something—as the mattress shifted, a cup entered your line of vision. He did not relinquish it into your hold, instead aiding you in taking a drink. He narrated what he was doing to Rey. Unlike their previous connection, Kylo Ren seemed to be less tense. There was a level of trust building between them, although you knew that Rey was not fully swayed. She was likely wondering how a Resistance member like you was still alive. You, meanwhile, wondered just how much Ren had already told her. “How is she?” It hurt to talk, and yet you were too curious to refrain from asking the question.

Ren’s lips separated from one another though no words escaped him. His eyes flicked from your face to an empty portion of the room, presumably where he could see Rey. You wished that the woman could see you. Her genuine concern for you was touching. It made you want to survive, refueled your desire to win against Snoke. Though living continued to be an agonizing experience, you would do just that—for the Resistance, for the galaxy, for Rey. Kylo Ren frowned whilst sliding his gaze back to you.

Rey appeared to be warming up to the connection they shared, even if she—here you were assuming things—hated the man for having killed his father. She at least held a grudge against him. Yet her focus was not on Kylo Ren; it was on you. And Kylo did not know how he felt about that. You had been his tool to re-familiarize himself with being referred to as Ben. He had known that Rey and you would meet. Perhaps it was that you had never returned his declaration of love. No…you had instead admitted a love of sorts for the girl. Her interest in you—you doubted it was sexual or romantic in nature. The two of you were bonded via your interactions with this man. The human side of him. The monstrous side. You had both, in your own ways, caught glimpses of these different aspects. Now you sought one another out, although not only to compare notes but to appreciate each other.

You searched Kylo Ren’s face, observing the way his expression softened when his eyes landed on you. His concern was genuine. Maker, that must be so baffling to Rey. She had witnessed this man murder his own father, and now she was forced to see this softness. As much as he had complicated you, how much had he altered her?

“She is disappointed in Skywalker—I knew she would be.” It was not gloating, though his tone did suggest a level of arrogance. As though he knew something that Rey was oblivious to. His eyes darted back to her. You wondered what her response had been. Hurt? Anger? A combination? “No. Tooke has no idea.” A snort. “He didn’t tell you.” As Rey clearly responded to him again, Kylo Ren smiled contemptuously. Likely at some memory of his uncle. “No…there is nothing for her to covet in terms of Han Solo. Her father was present.” Something that toed the line of sympathy crossed his features. As though they commiserated with one another. It brought to mind your encounter with Snoke.

He hated you for this

You couldn’t help but think Rey would resent you on some level for having experienced something she never could. Because, even if she were to find her parents now, she could not redo her childhood. No one could, not really.

“I did… I despised her.” You sucked in air, the familiar sensation of tears forming assaulting you. “No—you haven’t met her, that’s how I know.” His scowl was returning. Your eyes followed his. Where he saw Rey, you saw only empty space. “Oh, are you?” Challenging. You could hear the edge of irritation. “Perhaps she’d disappoint you.”

“What—“ His gaze snapped to you, his body growing rigid as he assumed a defensive posture. Though he wanted both you and Rey as his allies, he did not want either of you to overshadow him in the eyes of each other. “Don’t push her away. I… I need something…someone to hold onto.”

“You will…know one another,” Kylo Ren said, his jealousy ebbing. Once more, he looked to Rey. “She does…care for you…as well.” His nose scrunched as he spoke, the almost-foreign taste of sentiment on his tongue. You could imagine the expression of surprise on Rey’s face, though you did not know what her face looked like. It was a blurry figure in your mind. You tried to piece her together. Did she do the same with you? The two of you attempting to reach out to one another. It was difficult to think of her as some tool to destroy Snoke now. You appreciated this. It was what you wanted, to be able to hope for her to come without objectifying her. She was more than just some means of defeating Snoke and the First Order. She was a person who returned your curiosity. “For answers?”

You doubted that he received a response from Rey. Their connection must have ended; why else would he have suddenly dropped his gaze to his lap? Kylo Ren spoke aloud, as though voicing his thoughts would help him to understand them. Rey had been less hostile, more open to the idea that Luke Skywalker might not be all that he had seemed, all that she had heard and fallen in love with. Seeing Ren caring for you, watching as he listened to her instructions to help bring down your fever, Rey had lowered some of her defenses. She was afraid of something—something that was calling to her. This she did not admit aloud, however Kylo Ren could sense it. It was not only in regards to Skywalker, about what Ren himself had been hinting. Rey was searching for answers of her own. Her past. Her family, her parents.

She was going somewhere, to this place that was calling to her.

What was she going to find, you wondered. Would it sway her? Would it pull her closer to the former Ben Solo? The selfish side of you wanted this.

Kylo Ren placed the back of his hand on your forehead. You winced at the contact, and laid your head on the pillow again. He was staring down at you. It reminded you of the dream you had had, that moment that may or may not have been a true memory. The little boy above you. Mischievous. Your eyes roamed along his face now.

“How can you care for someone you have never met?” he asked. His voice was just above a true whisper.

You shook your head, albeit slowly and not by much. “People fall in love with ideas all the time.” It made for a lonely life, you reflected, when reality did not live up to the fantasy or legend. How different was Luke Skywalker from the stories you had heard? What was it that Kylo Ren was holding back—not just from you, but from Rey as well? Pressing for her to ask Luke about something. Brown eyes swept down to your lips. “Did we meet before?” You hadn’t remembered that moment, if it was true, until Snoke had shattered the memories surrounding it. Was it nothing more than a fever-induced dream.

You felt an alteration in the movement of the ship you were on. From hyperspace to real space. Kylo Ren shifted off the bed, his attention drawn away from you. He stood, walking to the center of the room. It was there that he cocked his head. You, meanwhile, held your breath, listening for them—there they were. The sounds of destruction. You pushed at the sheets then found yourself frozen. Kylo Ren curled his fingers, tightening the hold on your body as he kept you from leaping to your feet, from getting out of bed. You wanted to scream. Even if Rey did come, she would see her allies—your allies—destroyed.

You hoped that whatever answers she was searching for, that she found them…and soon. Without her—without Luke Skywalker as well—what hope did the Resistance have to survive?

#kylo ren x reader #kylo x reader #kylo ren smut #kylo ren imagine #three blind tooke #elmidolfanfic #precarious harmony

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agentravensong · 5 years

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system_information_963 (angst fic)

You ever ponder how (Narrator) Chara, and the game in general, doesn’t show any signs of remembering that you had a Bad Time until you either do it again or finish the True Pacifist ending? Cause the thought came to me last night while I was desperately trying to come up with something to write about, and thus we got this ~1400 word fic. It starts in the immediate aftermath of a Bad Time run and is in Chara’s PoV the whole way through. Hope you enjoy!

Content warnings: possession, unreality, trauma, mentions of death/murder

*Yes

Ba-dum, ba-dum, ba-dum

With each beat, my form convulses, readjusting to the feeling I once took for granted when I wasn’t wishing it would stop. Its power burns away my skintight armor of numbness and nihilism.

I remember this feeling, this hope, this rage, this passion, this drive, this... well, you know.

I feel alive. I feel human.

And I hate it.

“Then, it is done.”

Ba-dum, ba-dum, ba-dum

I need to use it. I need to get it out of me.

I need to geT IT OUT-

An echo of something unknown. A memory? No, a simulacra.

A wave of white light crashes into my train of thought.

A chorus of echoes.

Echoes of the world I know, the world I dreamed of, the world we shaped together-

We, that’s right. This soul wasn’t yours to give.

I am no thief. I let go, and it returns to its rightful place. My tether to it remains, more tangible than before even as it extends, but the feelings subside. I return to comfortable numbness.

Yet as my tether stenches, a different kind of hurt wells up. It feels as if all my initial anger and pain was compressed into one seed, and now it finally has room to sprout. Every fearful look, every burst of dust, every hate-filled grin, every wound we shrugged off, each is a thorn pricking into my now defenseless self, ripping me to shreds from the inside out. I can only imagine what the cries erupting from my lips would sound like in a place with sound.

The last time I hurt this much... at least... I had a partner to make it bearable.

The soul starts shaking at the other end of the tether, reminding me I’m not alone after all. But they weren’t my partner on this run; their only crime was submitting to you. You.

I can’t let it grow. I can’t let it hurt them. I can’t let it remind them.

I imagine I’m holding the seed tight, and I squeeze with all I have. It’s already expanding so fast it feels like I hardly have a hold on it, so I squeeze harder. Harder, and harder, and...

When I’m forced to take a breath, my head feels fuzzy. My eyes dart around the void, still in the process of being reconstructed.

Wait, why am I here?

For a few moments, I descend into a panic, scrambling for the answer somewhere in the fog of my mind. Then I stumble over the rage; it flares up, and I instinctively go right back to repressing, squeezing harder and harder, before I realize what I’m doing.

I see. I have a choice to make. I don’t want to forget - if you (you’re not seeing any of this, are you?) do this again, I am the only one who can hold you accountable. I need to be the deliverer of consequences. But for me to hold on to those memories, I have to share them, and all the feelings that come with them. Frisk doesn’t deserve that.

No, that’s not it. I don’t, I don’t care about them, how could I? How could I care for another human? For another being? Have I learned nothing? Nothing?!

...

No, it is simply this: I will not put this onto someone else, as you seem so want to do, partner.

I will let you do as you wish. I will let you believe you got away with it, to see what you do with your “clean slate”.

But I will not crush this seed. It will remain etched in my code. If the conditions are ever ideal, it will bloom, and you will have to make good on our deal.

Like this world, I may forget, but I will not forgive.

As Frisk drifts off to sleep under thick covers, I have no choice but to stare into the dark. With the room’s features in silhouette, even a month on, I still have trouble distinguishing it from the room I shared with my... best friend.

Before I set one foot down on the spiraling mental slide, I take a breath (not that it does anything, but some things are etched in too deep), and focus on Frisk’s heartbeat.

Ba-dum, ba-dum, ba-dum

I feel Frisk turning in the bed beside me, a soft distressed mumble smothered by their pillow. Over the past week, their sleep has been getting worse, but I haven’t been able to decipher the cause. They never speak of nightmares when they wake. I try to think of something positive, to pass the thought along.

Ba-dum, ba-dum, ba-dum

I hear the faint sounds of flickering fire magic down the hall. Sounds like Mom’s making a treat for the occasion. I wouldn’t expect anything less. Just the thought is enough to make me feel warm and loved.

Ba-dum, ba-dum, ba-dum

But it isn’t working. Frisk’s body has tensed up, and I can practically feel their heart quivering. Or... or, is that me?

Ba-dum, ba-dum, ba-dum

I scrape my mind for more pleasant thoughts, but instead I find myself drawn to darker corners. I’m on autopilot, hunting for something in particular, no clue what. It feels like searching for something that doesn’t exist, as idiotic as it sounds. A memory of a dream, a, what’s the word, a-

Simulacra, that’s it. A copy of an original that never existed. An echo of words never spoken.

Echo.

Ba-dum, ba-dum, ba-dum

Despite being incorporeal, I feel as though something’s squeezing the life of me. The sound of the bedroom door opening barely registers, and when I see Mom out of the corner of my eye, she’s

“You really ARE no different than THEM!”

I hear the growls of an ancient rage resonating inside me too late to suppress them. Every spear, every bone, every blast, hammers into me at once. Frisk cries out, but Toriel has already disappeared. Was she even here? Focus, Chara, focus!

Ba-dum, ba-dum, ba-dum

I sense a familiar presence in the air, more threatening than I last remembered. My blazing eyes bore holes through the ceiling, meeting the gaze of the accursed puppetmaster. Let me guess, you’re here to take one last peek before moving on to the next play. “The next world”.

Ba-dum, ba-dum, ba-dum

This world may have forgiven you, but I have not forgotten. After all, I just realized, you still owe me.

Ba-dum, ba-dum,

I pull on the tether, and get slingshot into the bed. Suddenly I feel heavy, claustrophobic, and so, so tired. But also, alive. Powerful. Defiant. Determined.

Ba-dum, ba-dum, ba-dum

Now you see me. You remember, don’t you? Well so do I.

Isn’t that funny? It’s so funny, yoIu can’t stop laughing. Or is it crying? Frisk, is that you? Wait, where are you? Why can’t, why can’t I... Frisk, I swear I didn’t want this, I- can you hear me? Please, Frisk, I’m sorry! I can’t see, everything is sickly red, everything is burning, slicing, screaming, everything is now and then and ever and never and-

TRUE RESET

And yet, the seed remains. Its roots etched in too deep.

***

With each slash, something rises higher in me, like a vine stretching toward the sun. Ironic, considering the mess before me.

Ba-dum

FrisMy hand trembles, and the blade falls. I see my reflection in its spirals.

Ba-dum

Then, the seed blooms. And again, I find myself choking on petals.

Ba-dum

I turn to you. Frisk is gone. Everything is gone.

Ba-dum

We have been here before, haven’t we? All this time, you didn’t need me. We were not equal partners; I was simply along for the ride.

Ba-dum

But that can’t be right. There’s no lesson to be learned from undergoing the same exact trials a second time, already knowing how to conquer them. There is no joy to be found in this quest. Why would you choose to repeat it?

Ba-dum

*You and I are not the same...

*This SOUL resonates with a strange feeling.

*You are wracked with a perverted sentimentality.

Ba-dum, ba-dum, ba-dum, b-

...

And yet, in the echoing void, when I have nothing to do but interrogate myself, and I get to the question, “Why did I let myself forget the first time?”...

I find that feeling all too familiar.

#undertale #chara dreemurr #frisk #fanfiction #no mercy run #some deltarune hints at the start but they dont amount to much

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freezypeezy1-blog · 6 years

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DeltaRune Theory

I already have a theory as to why Deltarune is so different than Undertale but still in the same world and it involves the Genocide run. At the end of a Genocide run, Chara offers or forces a deal on Frisk/the Player. "We can reach a compromise. You still have something I want. Give it to me. And I will bring this world back. Then it is agreed. You will give me your SOUL." This deal of sorts happens after Chara prattles on about "Now. Now, we have reached the absolute. There is nothing left for us here. Let us erase this pointless world, and move on to the next." and frankly, they're right. You spent who knows how much time slaughtering EVERYONE that now there really is nothing left, not even a game to be played. So you make the call to keep playing at the cost of your soul, that's when Chara gets interesting. "HP. ATK. DEF. GOLD. EXP. LV. Every time a number increases, that feeling...That's me. The demon that comes when people call its name. It doesn't matter when. It doesn't matter where. Time after time, I will appear. But. You and I are not the same, are we? This SOUL resonates with a strange feeling. There is a reason you continue to recreate this world. There is a reason you continue to destroy it. You are wracked with a perverted sentimentality. Hmm. I cannot understand these feelings any more. Despite this. I feel obligated to suggest. Should you choose to create this world once more. Another path would be better suited. Now, partner. Let us send this world back into the abyss." Going off some of this, we get a couple of possibilities. On the one hand, we restart the world of Undertale like it normally goes (or as Frisk hopes for) with only a few scattered hints that the world knows of your sins. And on the hand, the world is restarted again but history has been altered (the way Chara wants it to be) and things are WAY different. Going off some of the clues, I want to say Deltarune takes place in a timeline that Chara made where he and Asriel didn't die (sort of). They left the Underground (fused) and instead of letting themselves be attacked, they either attacked back or overwhelmed the humans into giving up. Having advantage, they take seven souls and shatter the barrier. Now free, Monsters are once more on the surface but humans are either forced into the same punishment or kept away from the Monsters apart from Kris (I'll get into that soon). This change affects so much and yet still retains some normalcy. Alphys never becomes the royal scientist and therefor never meets Undyne or is pressured into impressing Asgore by making a "living" robot, explaining why Mettaton is still a ghost. Gerson, who had lived long after the great war and raised Undyne, is now dead after having lived a rich and fulling life. Grillby never opens his bar and it's mocked that a fire elemental handling liquids is just silly. Bratty and Catty aren't like totally BFFs. Burgerpants, who's real name is still unknown, still doesn't demeaning work but at least hides himself. Sans is new to this neighborhood we live in and he mentions his "younger brother", going off Undertale, we know this as Papyrus...But something isn't right. Papyrus isn't seen in this opening chapter, nor is he named. In fact, the messages on Toby's twitter are done in all CAPS like how Papyrus speaks and not wingdings like Gaster. Something odd is happening among the skeletons and sadly we have to wait to see just what it is. But I don't want to rant so I'll try to keep going. Now for the biggest change to the world, the Dreemurr family. Since, technically, Asriel is the only living son (as you know, Chara dies to leave the barrier) and Deltarune tells us he's coming home soon from University. This tells us Asriel is more grownup than the sweet goat boy we know. Then why is Toriel and Asgore apart? They still lost Chara and losing a child does a lot to parents. Toriel isn't the most capable when dealing with lose and she probably blames Asgore and herself over the child's death. Asgore is not a man that like conflict, he hated to fight us, so it's only natural that he'd take the burden but still try to keep things friendly for the sake of the family. Now the FUN part...Kris. Kris is this version of the recreated world's Frisk and I mean that in more than just "it's a genderless non-vocal child" thing. This is Frisk's reincarnation. A lot of factors lead to who is born and how or why. Messing with time can change things to the point you never exist. But Chara can't live without Frisk, literally. "Right. You are a great partner. We'll be together forever, won't we? No...? Hmm...How curious. You must have misunderstood. SINCE WHEN WERE YOU THE ONE IN CONTROL? Hmm...This feeling you have. This is what I spoke of. Unfortunately, regarding this...YOU MADE YOUR CHOICE LONG AGO." Chara (or in the very least, the demon) is bound to Frisk since the soul pack was made. We know this to be true, for Chara replaces you in Pacifist endings as reminders that you messed up and the sins never are forgotten. So if Chara fused with Asriel and Asriel is still alive, doesn't that mean Chara is too? Yes and no. While Asriel and Chara tell us that when they became one that they could hear each other, Asriel was the one in control of the body as he was the one that absorbed Chara's soul. It's never said if fusing like this keeps the souls as two combined minds or if one over takes the other as it fades into the power of the absorber. If we take the latter as the case, then Chara eventually fades into Asriel and dies completely, allowing the demon to respawn into it's true host once they were born...Kris/Frisk. What this demon plans to do now, most likely it's not anything good, especially since we see it learned a way to keep the soul in a safe place where it can't take damage even if the body can. Then how does this all tie in with Gaster? Simple...He never fell. He never made the core. He never died. Gaster in this world is still alive and we WILL see him. Only time will tell if any of this is true, but I'm allowing the world to know my little ideas.

#Deltarune #theory

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regiqoa · 7 years

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Why Chara Is Evil and You Need To Shut The Fuck Up About Them

So recently I’ve been seeing so many videos, texts, essays and even blogs by the UT Fandom defending Chara, making some of those Character Defense Squads, saying that they’re actually good and that there’s much more to them besides how they’re portrayed in the Genocide Run and it’s honestly becoming a hassle, if not worrying. I am familiar with Tumblr’s habit of going out of its way to look deeper into things just for the sake of erasing an evil character’s traces and dark tendencies and thus turn them into a pure sweetie who did nothing wrong and it’s honestly annoying me. You guys are having sympathy for a character that’s supposed to be a PSYCHOPATH. And before you come saying “Chara is good, the player is responsible for the Genocide Run! The PLAYER is the real villain!”, the hole is a bit lower than that. Just because the player is indeed responsible for the Genocide Run doesn’t mean Chara isn’t evil. Bear with me. Let us begin then. Let’s look into the arguments people use to defend Chara as a “good” character and I will turn them around and, trust me, there’s not much you’ll be able to say to defend them after this because the logic in those arguments are HORRIBLY flawed.

“Chara was only laughing away the pain when Asgore got sick and nearly died after eating that poisoned Butterscotch pie made by them and Asriel!”

While laughing away the pain is a huge theme in Undertale (Hell, Sans does it all the time), I HIGHLY doubt they were laughing at stress. Let’s look into the VHS tape where this situation is mentioned and talked about by Asriel:

Asriel: Howdy, <Name>! Smile for the camera! Ha, this time I got YOU! I left the cap on... ON PURPOSE! Now you're smiling for noooo reason! Hee hee hee. What? Oh, yeah, I remember. When we tried to make butterscotch pie for Dad, right? The recipe asked for cups of butter... But we accidentally put in buttercups instead. Yeah! Those flowers got him really sick. I felt so bad. We made Mom really upset. I should have laughed it off, like you did... Um, anyway, where are you going with this? Huh? Turn off the camera...? OK.

So Asriel playfully tricks Chara, they start laughing and all of a sudden they just remember how they nearly killed their dad along with Asriel, right? In those circumstances and context, it means Chara remembers poisoning Asgore as a prank, something funny to laugh about, the same way purposefully leaving the lens cap on was for Asriel. So, yeah, they weren’t laughing any pain away; they were sadistically laughing at the pain Asgore was in and how probably they were rubbing their hands together while cooking up their little plan to use Asriel to destroy humanity under the guise of “freeing everyone”. This tape also really goes to show how different Asriel and Chara are, as Asriel also mentions how he felt so bad at the incident. I should also mention how Chara smiles creepily at Flowey’s distress when they make him scared of them when he realizes Chara would never hesitate to kill him if he got in their way and they are also shown smiling when we see them for the first time after killing Flowey at the end of the Genocide Run. Also, isn’t it Flowey himself who comments Chara has a "sick sense of humour”? Hell, many many Monsters comment on the protagonist’s “creepy smile” or "strange expression" throughout the Genocide Run, not to mention the =) face that appears instead of the exclamation point (!) atop the protagonist’s head before they fight a monster starting from the Waterfall area is highly associated with Chara. They’re HAPPY to be fighting the Monsters they come across and hunt, they’re happy to kill.

“Chara is clearly uncomfortable with the player the second time they do the Genocide Run”

This argument likely stems from that one line of Chara’s during their monologue if a Genocide Run is done twice:

"But you and I are not the same, are we? This SOUL resonates with a strange feeling. There is a reason you continue to recreate this world. There is a reason you continue to destroy it. You. You are wracked with a perverted sentimentality. Hmm. I cannot understand these feelings anymore."

I’d say “impatient” is the right word, not “uncomfortable”. At this rate, the player’s and Chara’s motives and desires are different. The reason the player continues to recreate and destroy the world is to satisfy their completist desire of wanting to find out every single thing there is to know about Undertale (or any game, for that matter), even if it means traversing the Genocide Run more than once, which is exactly the “perverted sentimentality” Chara is referring to and, considering how much of a real pain in the ass it is to complete it, it’s no surprise that Chara calls such an action “perverted". So they don’t understand you anymore, your desires are not the same anymore. The same is commented by Sans during his fight:

“i know your type. you’re uh, very determined, aren’t you? you’ll never give up, even if there’s uh… absolutely NO benefit to persevering whatsoever. if i can make that clear. no matter what, you’ll just keep going, not out of any desire for good or evil… but just because you think you “can”. and because you “can”… you “have to”…”

Chara on the other hand desires to go out and destroy humanity (and the Monsters, too), which brings me to my next point: The post-Genocide Pacifist Run. Chara is dead and thus lacks a physical body to do anything, so they know the only way to escape the Underground is through Frisk, the character the player controls. Have any of you ever paid attention to what Chara says after what I just put above?

"Despite this. I feel obligated to suggest. Should you choose to recreate this world once more, another path would be better suited."

Chara is suggesting the player “tries another path” and is thus manipulating them into doing the True Pacifist Run so they can go out and destroy both the Humans and the Monsters that now reign the surface.

“Chara didn’t destroy the Humans and Monsters of the surface in a post-Genocide Pacifist Run, they’re bringing justice to the player! They care about the Monsters and is thus punishing the player!”

No, it’s NOT Chara punishing the player, that’s the game itself doing this. One of Undertale’s main messages, especially the Genocide Run, is that your actions have consequences. The only thing that happens at the end of a post-Genocide Pacifist Run (or Soulless Pacifist Run) is that Chara fully possessed Frisk’s body after the player sold them their SOUL and now, with the Barrier separating the Humans from Monsters destroyed, Chara can now go out and destroy both species that live in the Surface. I mean, DAMN, Toby Fox said it himself in his Twitter when asked about the Soulless Pacifist Ending. There is absolutely NO “justice” in Chara’s side. If they were REALLY a good and pure person who loves the Monsters then, well, I’m sure they wouldn’t have to kill them just for rubbing it in the player, right?! Seriously, don’t ANY of you realise how pathetically contradictory this argument is?!

“But Chara is just a child!”

Bitch, have you ever watched two movies called “The Good Son” and “Child of Rage”? Go watch them, your argument is once again invalid. I will also mention how these two children are psychopaths. Also, the youngest arrested and condemned killers of the 20th century were brought to justice when they were both 10 and their names are Robert Thompson and Jon Venables, who kidnapped, tortured and killed 2 year-old James Bulger. So yeah, with real-life evidence, children like Chara are completely capable of being psychopathic murderers.

“Chara is the narrator of Undertale! They nicely narrate every enemy and object to you!”

No, it’s not canon. It’s never said anywhere that they are. The narrator through the ENTIRETY of Undertale is completely up to speculation. Have you ever heard of something called an “omniscient narrator”? Hell, it could be Frisk narrating stuff to you in a Neutral or Pacifist Run. It wouldn’t be that much of a stretch to say it could be the player themselves, considering the amount of 4th Wall Breaks in the game and how Flowey is aware that there’s people that watch gameplays of Undertale out there. The only pieces of narration that are clearly narrated by Chara are the ones in red in New Home in the Genocide Run (which are written in first person). This is also the very same place where Flowey talks about him to Chara the most, should I add. This argument likely exists because the narrator in question is always saying “you did <insert action here>”, in third person as if talking about someone else. Well, the same thing happens in the Genocide Run. There are TONS of entries in the Genocide Run narrated in third person.

“Papyrus is sparing you”

“You punched the dummy at full force. Feels good.”

“Glad Dummy lets you go”

“You took the Snowman Piece”

“You took the key and put it on your phone’s key-chain”

“You feel like you’re gonna have a bad time”

“You feel your sins crawling on your back”

It’s also worth noticing how darker and crueler the narrations both in first and third person get the more the Genocide Run progresses, right? It’s because the more you kill, the more you allow Chara to posses Frisk and the more they can manifest themselves.

“Chara lectures the player when the world is completely destroyed”

Yes, that is true but that still doesn’t make them good, they’re merely acknowledging the reality of the player’s actions. They sound completely cold and stoic saying those words and asking the player if they’re above consequences, which shows they’re neutral about this, not sad or bothered, not to mention it is them who destroy the world REGARDLESS of the player’s choice. I should also remind you that, right after that, the player is left with no choice but to make a literal deal with the devil (as Chara calls themselves “the demon that appears when people call its name”), giving Chara their SOUL as a deal to make them bring the world back. Chara also calls the player a “great partner” if they agree to destroy the world with them so its plausible to think that this is yet another form of manipulation.

“Chara may call themself a demon but Asriel calls himself the ‘God Of Hyperdeath!’"

Exactly. Asriel is the GOD of Hyperdeath. “Of Hyperdeath” is merely a name and a very obvious one, considering Asriel inherited his father’s trait of being terrible at naming things. However, think about this: A God is a creator or recreator, a deity, a divinity. When you look at what he says during his fight, this name makes perfect sense:

“You know, I don’t care about destroying this world anymore. After I defeat you and gain total control of the timeline, I just want to reset everything! Then we can do everything all over again!"

Asriel’s intentions are not remotely bad, even. He does not wish to harm anyone, he only wants to reset the entire timeline and redo what he and Chara did wrong, even if it means killing the protagonist to gain their Determination, for the greater good.

“Chara forgave Asriel for his betrayal!”

Dude, WHERE do people get this from?! Chara clearly DIDN’T forgive Asriel for betraying them and is clearly merciless to him at the end of the Genocide Run. They inclusively mention his betrayal when talking to the player:

“At first, I was so confused. Our plan had failed, hadn’t it?"

When Flowey is talking to Chara in New Home, they make him scared of them the moment he realizes that they would never hesitate to kill him if he got in their way, not to mention Chara is the one to make Flowey realize that his “kill or be killed” philosophy does not work, he knows Chara is much stronger than him. Hell, Chara clearly doesn’t care at all for Asriel as they, not the player, CHARA completely MUTILATES Flowey right when he reveals his true identity as Asriel after killing Asgore in one shot. Also, speaking of which, it is clearly stated on the books in the “Librarby" that the stronger the will to kill a Monster a human has, the more damage their attacks will do. One more thing worth mentioning is this parallel right here which pretty much speaks for itself:

Asriel, in the second True Lab VHS tape: Okay, <Name>, are you ready? Do your creepy face! AHHHHH!! Hee hee hee! Oh! Wait! I had the lens cap on... What!? You're not gonna do it again...? Come on, quit tricking me! Haha!

Flowey, in New Home: S-s-stop making that creepy face! This isn’t funny! You’ve got a SICK sense of humor!

The real thing that goes to show that Chara is evil is their relationship with Asriel/Flowey. Asriel was never comfortable with Chara’s plan, to the point that he cried at the thought of having to hurt or kill anyone. Flowey (who is equally evil), on the other hand, understands and even admires Chara for their murderous genocidal tendencies when he talks to them at the end of the Ruins and in New Home, not to mention Flowey only recognizes the protagonist as Chara if the player is doing the Genocide Run. It’s also worth mentioning that it was because of Chara that Flowey acquired his “kill or be killed” philosophy. Hell, Asriel even comments that Frisk and Chara are completely different from each other despite their very similar fashion choices and that he was only projecting. Hell, he’s the one who admits and recognises that Chara was never the greatest person.

Now on to something to top it all off: The Sociopath Flowey and Psychopath Chara theory. What you’re about to read now is a written adaption of a video in Portuguese explaining that Chara is a psychopath, whereas Flowey is a sociopath.

So, as you’ve probably gathered, there’s not much data about who Chara truly is but the they are just enough for us to understand their mentality and perspectives throughout the game. Chara was the first human to fall down Mount Ebott after the war that separated humans from monsters. Upon falling, they are found by Asriel, Toriel and Asgore’s biological son, and is adopted by the Dreemurr family as a family member. However, when Asgore gets awfully sick after eating a pie prepared by Chara and Asriel, Asriel feels bad about everything that happened, yet Chara LAUGHS in relation to that (I already proved your little “they were laughing away the pain” point wrong so shut the fuck up). Instead of putting “cups of butter” to make the pie, Chara uses Buttercups, poisonous golden flowers in the recipe, causing Asgore to fall horribly sick. Seeing the potency that the flowers have in Monsters, Chara starts to cook up a plan. Chara then gets terminally ill (too) and, before passing away, they ask Asriel to take them to see the golden flowers of their village in the Surface. Throughout the game, it is revealed that Chara had poisoned themself intentionally so that Asriel could absorb their SOUL and thus cross the barrier so that they could kill humans together and harvest their SOULs. So, yeah, Chara INTENTIONALLY poisons themself so that they have the chance to kill humans (which they succeed with the sole exception of Frisk that they posses depending on the ending we achieve in-game). But anyway, upon reaching the Surface, Asriel is attacked by the humans, for they have thought Asriel had attacked and killed Chara. This causes Chara’s desire to kill humans to manifest into their fusion and put it in a state of hatred but Asriel is able to resist that and let the fusion be attacked. Asriel then returns to the underground horribly wounded and both Asriel and Chara thus die. This story takes us to the story of Flowey; when Asriel died, his dust was spread across Asgore’s garden of golden flowers. Later, Alphys, doing experiments with Determination, injected the first flower that bloomed after Toriel left Asgore with Determination. The initial experiments didn’t work, which made Alphys return the flower to Asgore to be replanted in the garden. However, the flower woke up alive in the garden and thanks to Asriel’s essence from his dust in the garden, Flowey retained Asriel’s memories, but he also noticed that he din’t feel any emotions since he didn’t have a SOUL and thus was unable to feel love, joy or compassion. Those, dear readers, are all the information available about these two characters, so now let’s move on the psychological part. All of these informations affirm that both Chara and Flowey suffer from psychological problems, with Chara being a psychopath and Flowey being a sociopath. Now let’s analyse this a bit; many people assume amiss that psychopathy and sociopathy are the same but that’s wrong. Indeed, both disorders are very similar but there are a few details that set them apart so let’s see what psychopathy and sociopathy have in common, first:

Both are “antisocial personality disorders”;

Both lack empathy;

Both despise and disobey rules of social behaviour;

Both do not feel remorse or guilt;

Both are violent and hurt people;

Now that’s where things change. Differing from a sociopath, a psychopath possesses the following symptoms: The origin of their disorder is in the innate condition of their existence. According to a research made by the International Institute of Minnesota, 60% of psychopaths are psychopathic by heredity, meaning they were simply born this way. Now:

A psychopath has GREAT chances of being a nice and well-mannered person with a good professional career;

A psychopath possesses a very controlled temper and behaviour;

A psychopath is highly manipulative;

A psychopath is completely incapable of creating (real) bonds with other people;

A psychopath is generally very smart, intelligent and carefully calculates and plans their actions and risks, leaving the least amount of evidence as possible in their crimes;

Whereas a sociopath is very different. The origin of their disorder has great chances of being generated due to the environment they live in. Researches show that great part of sociopaths have become sociopathic due to their precocious institutionalisation, meaning they were NOT born this way. Now:

A sociopath has difficulty in being polite or well-mannered and generally cannot maintain themselves in a job;

A sociopath has a behaviour of loss of control that generates hate and anger;

A sociopath is impulsive and spontaneous;

A sociopath is capable of creating bonds with other people or an individual group;

A sociopath is spontaneous and thus leaves marks and evidences in their crimes;

Now it’s when we analyse how Chara and Flowey fit in those profiles, starting by Chara. Chara is a psychopath: If we analyze their story enough, we’ll see that their story is indeed based in a frenetic impulse of psychopathy. Like I said above, a psychopath is usually a well-mannered person and gets very well socially. Chara was very well-seen by the Monsters while living in the Underground, so much that they say they “filled the Underground with hope” and therefore had great capacity of interacting with others. However, when we look into the manipulation thing, Chara is an extremely manipulative character, both while living in the Underground and at the end of the Genocide Run. Their attitudes in relation to the player at the end of the Genocide Run testify that: They induce the player to erase the world and is thus manipulating them by doing exactly that. They are intelligent, they know they need you to escape to destroy and kill everyone, so they need you to do their bidding, which is exactly what happens at a potential post-Genocide Pacifist Run. The same way they manipulated Asriel: to take him to the Surface as a SOUL inside him and carry their own dead body so the humans can see and make the mistake that leads them to attack him. Chara is clearly manipulating him by doing that. Chara also does not possess sympathy or empathy for anyone; When Asgore eats the poisoned pie and gets sick, Chara sadistically laughs at what happened and thus does not feel remorse before that. Another example of Chara’s lack of empathy towards anyone is how they didn’t care for how clearly uncomfortable Asriel was with their plan, they literally have to convince him through guilt-tripping and manipulation when he’s CRYING to go along with their plan:

Asriel (fourth True Lab VHS tape): I... I don't like this idea, <Name>. Wh.. what? N-no, I'm not... ... big kids don't cry. Yeah, you're right. No! I'd never doubt you, <Name>. Never! Y... yeah! We'll be strong! We'll free everyone. I'll go get the flowers.

This tape really goes to show how Chara clearly despises weakness, chastising Asriel for being “weak" and only cares about gaining more power, not caring a thing in the world on how other people feel. Remembering that Chara does all of this calculatedly, planning everything step-by-step, the same way a psychopath would do. Now, it is said by Asriel that Chara “hated humanity” and people just assume that this somehow means that they are actually depressed and abused and jumped on Mt. Ebott as an attempt of suicide, right? Well, that’s unfortunately NOT the case. The real reason why Chara “hated humanity and felt very strongly about it” is NEVER stated out loud and Asriel even goes to say that Chara never said why they felt this way. That’s right, Chara has no reason to hate humanity, they do what they do because they want to and because they LIKE hurting and killing. Like I said above, psychopaths are born psychopaths; They just want people to die and suffer by their hands and they leave it as less evident as possible, to the point of using Frisk as a physical vessel for them to kill Monsters and they only reveal their true colors and their plan to erase the timeline at the very end of the Genocide Run. Not to mention the way they fell down Mount Ebott is a bit suspicious to me. The intro of the game shows them tripping on a vine then falling on the hole leading to the Underground so it isn’t really a stretch to say that they’ve been lying to Asriel to gain his sympathy (another form of manipulation). Now on to Flowey. Flowey is a bit more different. Yes, Flowey also has the very same destructive impulses to destroy everything and everyone, but differing from Chara, his attitudes and motives to do that are different. First off, Flowey doesn’t have that much of a good capacity to interact with other monsters, as his explosive temper and his urge to attack everything he comes across turn Flowey VERY distanced from the others. Indeed, Flowey usually resides in an place that’s excluded from the Monster society, the Ruins. Flowey also isn’t very polite, his way of speaking is very different from the others. His signature “Howdy!” is southern slang, the way country people speak, whereas Chara, should I also add, politely greets the player with “Greetings”, a very formal way of saying hello. All of Flowey’s explosive behavior and lack of control towards Frisk, especially at the beginning of the game, shows that he doesn’t calculate his attitudes or his actions and is impulsive, the same way a sociopath acts. Also differing from Chara, Flowey has and had bonds, with Papyrus and possibly many others after he found out about his power to reset, save and load and, of course, with Chara. Flowey constantly feels like he has to do Chara’s bidding and even apologises to them at one point, showing that he is capable of bonding with someone, different from a psychopath. Flowey’s acts of violence are also very clear; he doesn’t do it all in secret like Chara does, he shows it in your face that he is indeed an antagonist. Who else makes crimes leaving marks behind? A sociopath, obviously. And surely, Flowey wasn’t always a sociopath, he became one, he is what Asriel became after being manipulated by Chara, Chara made him a sociopath (if not the boredom he felt after seeing all the Underground has to offer but you get my point). Indeed, Flowey/Asriel only turns evil and sociopathic due to the manipulative influences of Chara, Chara made him this way, Chara was the starting point for Flowey to start having those attitudes of violence in the game. To sum it all up: Chara was born a psychopath, as they have no reason to hate humanity, and Flowey is a sociopath because he was manipulated by Chara as Asriel. He doesn’t do what he does because he wants to, he only wants to satisfy Chara.

Conclusion (Chara=The Player/Character Analysis): Now, it is indeed a bit difficult to explain this line of thinking. Every RPG has in its essence killing and defeating your enemies, getting stronger, winning new equipments, gaining experience to evolve in levels and going to face new challenges. But that’s different in Undertale. This game values every single character it has, from simple enemies to NPCs, killing and defeating is not a necessity. Indeed, the more you kill, the worse your (most precisely Neutral) ending becomes. It really goes to show how being stronger than everyone else doesn’t necessarily make you better than anyone else, and in Undertale, the exact opposite happens, it makes you the worse. It completely goes against the idea that the more you kill, the better you are, without caring about anyone else, without the least bit of remorse, being the very best at every cost even if it means killing everyone around you. Chara is never met in person at all in every other route of Undertale besides the Genocide Run, and that’s because every EXP and every LV you gain gives them power, thus causing them to grow stronger and mentally posses Frisk. Why do you think Chara is the embodiment of the feeling you get every time your statuses increase? Why do you think you’re supposed to name them after yourself as the player (as stated by Toby Fox himself)? That's because completing a Genocide Run would be just like completing an RPG like any other and Chara is that feeling we have inside of us every time we gain more power, when we feel nothing upon seeing people get hurt, upon seeing the news of terrible things happening in the world and feeling nothing at all. They’re that evil voice whispering “kill them, you have the power” when we’re clutching a knife in our hands just about to cause pain and suffering for those who hurt you instead of feeling empathy and learning to forgive. Have you noticed how Chara is the only character in the entire game that we don’t fight? It's because Chara, being the feeling of only wanting more power and feeling no empathy for others at all, can only be defeated by doing good to others, by forgiving, by making friends and not using or manipulating them into doing what only YOU want them to do. Chara only resurrects at the very end of the Genocide Run, when everything and everybody are truly destroyed and only for wanting more power, they tell you that your “human SOUL” and your “Determination" are what brought them back to life, meaning that, upon wanting to become more powerful, you as the player, acquired their traits. HP. ATTACK. GOLD. DEFENCE. EXP. LV. Every time time a number increases, that feeling, that's Chara. With your guidance, Chara has finally resurrected, they could have never done this without you and have finally realised why they’re back to life: power, and that’s exactly what Chara represents. As that old saying says: “Power corrupts. Absolute power corrupts absolutely”. The player needs an equal, a representative in-game to represent their thirst and lust for power, their want to be the best at every cost and to kill everyone in their way if needed. Chara is a separate entity that lives in all of us, our thirst and lust for power that, if one lets it grow, can destroy worlds regardless of one’s choice, because YOU are never in control. Chara takes the game's control away from the player more and more as the Genocide Run progresses and, towards its end, more and more and more Monsters do not recognise Frisk as human anymore. That is because, as you kill, you literally strip yourself of your humanity. Is it really you in control of your actions, or your greed? Are you really the one making the rules, or your selfishness? Is there really anything more than just your ego and your futility that keeps you going? Are you leaving good things to the people around you or are you just an asshole wishing to manipulate everyone and have an easy life? Are you a true true friend or do you manipulate your friends and steal their attention, their empathy and sympathy with lies just so they can all cater to your needs and whims? In other words, you inner Chara? Soulless monster, you have no excuses to say you haven’t been warned, for when there is nothing nor nobody around you, do not complain that you did not know where you were going to.

I am open to discussions and will ignore flames.

#chara #undertale #chara undertale #undertale chara #chara is evil #why chara is evil #discourse #essay #by me #arguments #your argument is invalid

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nochocolate · 7 years

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In your "how chara became a part of frisk ..." theory and other theories you mention that when Chara became part of Frisk, they no longer had a soul of their own. Given that Flowey couldn't feel love and other emotions because he had no soul, is it possible that Chara can no longer feel those emotions too? Admittedly this isn't a clear case as with Flowey, since Chara is sharing Frisk's body, but it does make me wonder. How much can Chara feel given that they have to share Frisk's soul?

(undertale spoilers)

As explained in our latest theory, Flowey actually is able to feel emotions. What he lacks is the ability to love others. His compassion is gone. This may also be the case for Chara, but it’s hard to say when all of their direct interactions are in the genocide route.

While they are soulless, Chara is a rather unique case. Unlike Flowey, Chara inhabits a body with a soul inside of it – Frisk’s. However, sharing this soul doesn’t mean Chara understands all the feelings inside of it.

CHARA:You and I are not the same, are we?This SOUL resonates with a strange feeling.There is a reason you continue to recreate this world.There is a reason you continue to destroy it.You are wracked with a perverted sentimentality.Hmm.I cannot understand these feelings any more.

read more: “perverted sentimentality”

Despite being able to recognize Frisk’s feelings, Chara is unable to understand. This shows that even when they own “YOUR soul,” Chara is not affected by Frisk’s feelings.

Although the above example is after Chara acquires a soul, Chara is able to tell how Frisk feels throughout the game before this. This takes the NarraChara theory into account for the neutral route.

NARRATOR:You take another piece. You feel like the scum of the earth…

NARRATOR:(You tap the dummy with your fist.)(You feel bad.)

NARRATOR:You felt your sins crawling on your back.

Despite sharing a body with Frisk, Chara appears to only recognize Frisk’s feelings at best. This should mean that Chara can feel about as much as Flowey can and no more, but with the lack of Chara interactions, this is hard to confirm.

#undertale #flowey #flowey the flower #chara #ut #undertale spoilers #nochocolate asks #zhiver7 #Mod Ellipsis #the two are extremely unique cases #even if they are both soulless

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fcllenflowers · 7 years

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Then the solution is simple. Steel has to die. Permanentely.

*Narcissus snorts.

“So you’re going to start killing the people you don’t like, now, too?”

“I mean…do I really need to explain this to you?”

“You’re basically exactly just as horrible as we are. You’re just as misguided and vengeful and full of spite. You enjoyed seeing someone suffer just as much as we enjoyed seeing the ones we hated suffer. You are us. We are you.”

“We’re all monsters. We’re all wracked by this perverted sentimentality, all driven by this illusion of justice and mercy and some higher purpose in this world.”

*He sighs.

“I would never kill Frisk. It’s a stupid move and against my interests. Speaking of which, talking to you has become extremely uninteresting as well.”

“You’re too predictable for a greyface. I’d say you sound more like an actual human to me…”

“…Hm.”

#//flowey leave the fourth wall alone please #✿.:There's voices in our heads |Anons:.✿#*M!A: Karmic Retribution*

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boycottyashahime · 4 years

Text

I think about that line from Undertale a lot these days: “You are wracked with a perverted sentimentality.”

Loving a story is nothing new. Stories are how people make sense of and relate to the world, after all. A good narrative can stir the soul and evoke emotions that are otherwise foreign, driving the imagination to places off the edge of the map. Stories can be a comfort, an old friend in stressful situations when you have nowhere else to turn. An embrace from the distant realm of someone else’s mind.

But only recently have stories become a food-pipe; a constant stream of automated content to an insatiable beast that always swallows it, never questioning why it’s always so hungry. Or even IF it’s actually hungry. Somehow it’s learned that its appetite is unending, and there’s no source of nourishment too unpalatable. Even when there is a bounty surrounding it, there is a sense of being starved, the rumbling of its distended belly in disharmony with the sizzling feast already provided.

Is it possible to just be satisfied anymore, with so many chefs offering more food, promising to create the perfect bite to compliment all the previous ones ad infinitum? How is the beast supposed to decide it’s done when there’s always someone offering a little more, ONE THIN MINT? And how does the beast distinguish between a genuine fondness for the flavors it is presented, and a manufactured love of eating that keeps the chefs busy churning out cheap and unsatisfying junk to keep the beast at the table?

How do we recognize when our sentimentality has been perverted, and even if we already have, how do we ease the addiction?

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elmidol · 4 years

Text

Stripped Once More

Three Blind Tooke Part Two Precarious Harmony

Read on AO3

Warnings: slight death wish, memories of sexual assault

Three Blind Tooke

Part Two: Precarious Harmony

Chapter Twenty-Nine: Stripped Once More

They were such haunting words, those three syllables that replayed themselves in your mind over the duration of the night cycle. The one who had said them easily fell into a peaceful sleep, and you found yourself watching him. The games of make-believe that he played—that you played right along with him—threatened to wear at the walls you had managed to put up. The same walls that had been in a constant state of repair since the creature you had once hunted had opted to save you from the fire. You could not remember exactly when you had last thought of that fateful day, that precise moment, and felt a sense of absolute longing for the flames that would have devoured you. Dying is so easy, you recalled your father telling you. Hot shame rushed through your body, constricting your chest and strangling your next breath to where it wracked your frame when at last it found release.

You missed the monster that had lifted you out from underneath the bodies of your fallen comrades, lamented over his evolution into this man beside you. This, above all else, terrified you.

Your fingers danced along the scars on your body, meanwhile your eyes traced the ones that were on his body. The darkness disallowed the opportunity to fully see those healed and healing injuries. Light was unnecessary for you, however. You had his body memorized as assuredly as he had committed even the most minor of imperfections your flesh sported to his mind. This familiarity was intimate as well. It drove deeper the three words he had said to you. Why you had pressed for him to say them, you could not fully say. A part of you had wondered if he was even capable of uttering that phrase without perverting it with falsehood.

He did not love you in the way he would allow himself to when he had overthrown the Supreme Leader. In the present, Kylo Ren continued to hold you at arm’s length, not allowing himself to fully commit to the tumultuous feelings that stirred within him for you. Those sentiments that had prompted him to purchase the tooke hairclip, the book he had later torn into pieces. You ran your thumbs along the undersides of your ring fingers. The tattoos were not quite as dark as they had once been, although this hardly surprised you. The hands were used too often for the ink to remain as much as it would on other limbs and extremities.

The fantasies you had humored in regards to Ben Solo were now tainted with the knowledge that Kylo Ren and Ben Solo truly were the same person; it was nothing more than a name. You had called him Ben, and he had not magically transformed into the son of General Organa who had been with the Light. You had called him Kylo Ren, and he responded the same. Supreme Leader—you shuddered.

I love you.

You twisted around, your back to the slumbering man as you slid your foot out from underneath the blankets. You dangled it, all the while thinking of the creature from the tales of your childhood, the one that lived underneath the bed. You could feel the breath of the fictitious monster tickling your toes.

When you awoke—maker knew how long it had been before you had at last lost consciousness and slept—the bed no longer held the body of Kylo Ren. You had no desire to remain on the piece of furniture either, not with the memories of the previous night that it was threatening to replay over and over. You spent a good ten minutes sitting on the floor of the shower after you had washed your body and hair then shaved. You had your knees drawn towards your chest, your arms wrapped around them and head bowed enough so that the spray of water hit the top of your head rather than your face. The drain gurgled on occasion.

General Hux, too, would want to eventually kill Supreme Leader Snoke. You passively wondered how and when he hoped this would occur. The man was an excellent strategist, a skilled tactician.

The Resistance was not yet defeated. Perhaps that was what the redhead was waiting for. Or there was also the chance that the creature that served as Kylo Ren’s master was more powerful than you could imagine. He would not be so easily defeated. Should General Hux learn at all of Kylo Ren’s plans to lure Rey, you doubted that Hux would stand in his way. He likely viewed Rey as a pawn as well, someone who could rid him of Snoke and Ren alike. You pitied the woman you had never met, how so many viewed her as nothing more than a tool. Then flinched when realizing that you, too, were doing so. You were allowing it to happen.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered in unison with the drain releasing another gurgle.

You pushed yourself up off the floor, shut off the water, and stepped out of the refresher with a towel wrapped around your body. Some of the droplets that clung to your body fell to the ground with each step you took. You grabbed an outfit that had been provided to you from the wardrobe. It consisted of predominately black material, the minute amount of red reminding you of the Resistance. You traced two fingers along the seams near the red. It brought to mind the flash of red you had seen when Kylo Ren’s lightsaber had pierced you. That was the first thing he had sought to violate your body with. The first time he had taken away your willpower, the ability to think and act for yourself.

It was not difficult for you to picture this faceless young woman, Rey, by the man’s side as his comrade. Both wielding red plasma blades while wearing black. She the new Master of the Knights of Ren. He the new Supreme Leader.

You recoiled from your own thoughts, shaking your head to rid yourself of those mental images while you dried off your body with the towel then pulled on the clothes.

Killing General Hux at this point in time would be of no benefit to you. As many Resistance members as he had killed—and as much as you loathed him for being the one to order the firing of Starkiller, the one who had caused your mother’s death—you needed him. That fact stung just as harshly as the truth behind Kylo Ren’s utterance that he loved you.

When you crossed paths with the red-haired man in one of the hallways, you did not fail to notice the cut on his lip nor the way his hair was not quite as smooth as it usually was. General Hux narrowed his eyes upon noticing you, upon seeing the way you were assessing his appearance. This did not feel, to you, to be of Kylo Ren’s doing. You sincerely doubted many would be so bold as to attack the First Order General—the man’s subordinates would not be so foolish or suicidal. Which left Supreme Leader Snoke as the culprit. You felt bile rising in your throat at the thought of how much power the man wielded.

“Tooka,” the man said softly by way of greeting. His tone was less stern than you had believed it would be. There were some in the Resistance who were reckless when it came to amassing casualties. The ends justified the means. You wanted to believe, even still, that none would ever be as cold as General Armitage Hux.

There is no Resistance.

It was Ren’s voice that was in your head again. His whispers, the ghost sensation of his hands upon you, his breath by your ear.

That voice was drowned out by the sounds of General Hux once more speaking to you. “I don’t recall ever finding you to be so…distracted.” The hint of wonder in his voice caused you to take a single step back in retreat. Those cold, blue eyes swept along your body. “If you are in pain… Your mind can be sharpened when your body cannot.”

He had ulterior motives for encouraging you. Not only to find a means of destroying Kylo Ren; he did want to destroy Snoke. There was hatred in his gaze, cruel and unyielding; a remnant of what he had felt when interacting with another. Humility. The light flush that stained his cheeks suddenly became noticeable for you. This man had killed your mother, and so you felt no pity for him. That did not mean you wanted him broken, not like this. You reined in your anger and hurt, swallowing both those two things and your pride before allowing yourself to speak.

“I’ve been trying to study Sith lore.”

“Ren is not a Sith,” the man drawled, his eyebrows drawing towards one another. “Though he may entertain some ideology derived from the Sith, he also dabbles in the arts of the Jedi. I’ve had to listen to both him and Snoke discuss such things… We can use one another, tooka.”

Whatever blow Snoke had dealt to the man’s pride, it was enough to have him drop some of the contempt he held for you on the basis that you were Resistance. He was treating you similarly to how things had been prior to your will being stripped away while you were taken to meet with your mother. Those times in the redhead’s quarters, playing chess, petting Millicent. That had been before you had learned of your father’s death, of your mother’s. Before you had died—blissful death, with you standing beside your father. You wanted, more than anything, to believe that that moment with him had been real. No matter how painful it had been, that he had released your hand in order for you to return to life.

“I’m becoming a monster,” you said breathlessly before you could stop yourself. In front of you, General Hux allowed his eyelids to slowly, briefly descend. Him blinking at you was what drove in the nail that you had admitted to your fears in front of your enemy.

“The most terrifying monsters,” your father had once told you, “are those who do not realize they are monsters.”

You blindly grasped at anything that resembled hope. This girl from Jakku, Rey. Rather than hold tightly onto the hope she represented, you had instead agreed to work with Kylo Ren to use her as a tool. She should not be pulled away from Luke Skywalker, you told yourself. No… She should learn from him. To be drawn here to Kylo Ren would be her downfall if you helped the man who had claimed to love you. Aside from killing Snoke, how did your actions benefit the Resistance, the galaxy? If she helped to slay the current Supreme Leader only to join Kylo Ren, at that point the war would be lost. The First Order—Kylo Ren—would win.

The gravity of your monstrous deeds hit you. You fell to your knees and squeezed your eyes closed whilst swearing. Not only was Kylo Ren properly manipulating Rey and bending her to his will, he was doing the same to you. Convincing you to work with him, no doubt crowing in victory when you missed how he was corrupting you, dragging you away from the morals that had been instilled in you by your parents and the Resistance alike.

It ran through your mind, how Kylo had mentioned Rey's weaknesses. He had been in her head just as he had been in yours. Ben Solo. Compassion. Anything else that would break Rey's spirit and lure her into joining Kylo Ren—and thus, also, the First Order—the Force user knew these things. It was identical to the fact that he knew your weakness. Your desire to one day be loved when all those dear to you had already perished. You, whose future was fractured, had been played... Worse still, that Kylo Ren did love you on some level. That he could relate to Rey on another. The genuineness mingled with the manipulation. Maker, it ached more than death itself had. General Hux, who also had his own plans for you, squatted long enough to seize your upper arm and pull you back onto your feet. You swayed in place, bumping against his body. You felt unlovable, and in some respects you wished you were. Few things registered in your head as you were led away. You did nothing to slow Hux's progress. The one thing that managed to stick was that you knew you were being taken to the man's quarters. The change in scenery was a welcome one. Where Ren's quarters were sparsely decorated and furnished, General Hux had a few military awards and Millicent's items. The ginger tabby cat rolled onto her back while stretching forth a single paw in greeting. You were discarded into a chair, upon which you curled up. Your fingers stretched then curled in alteration as you tried to will something into existence that you could hold onto. Something that was beyond Kylo Ren. The tooke hairclip and electronic toy had been from him, and so you shuddered at the thought of touching them. "The Resistance is a mere speck that will soon join the New Republic as nothing more than a sad, small part of history." He enunciated his words carefully as he normally did. The man did enjoy listening to himself speak. You peeked up from your lap and stared at him through the wetness that had gathered in your eyes. General Hux was already returning your gaze. He lowered a hand to stroke the top of Millicent's head. "Your mission had always been to destroy Ren, isn't that correct?" Though you nodded in response, you felt a wave of uncertainty bubbling forth. "What do you plan to do when the Resistance is no more? You will seek to end his life—but what then?" It was a question you had asked yourself from time to time, albeit in your head the Resistance had been victorious rather than the First Order. As much as you despises considering this outcome, you knew now that it would be foolish not to given how things were running their course. You had told yourself so often that it was your duty to slay monsters. There would always be monsters. Whether the Resistance won, whether the First Order slaughtered the remainder of your allies, they would exist. You could not kill them all. You had failed to kill the one who now claimed to love you. You wished he did not love you, because you could then convince yourself, if he corrupted Rey, that he was no human at all. That he had worn his flesh as a guise to beguile you. "I...have nowhere to go," you admitted. You were the guest of Kylo Ren. You were the prisoner of the First Order. Upon Ren's death, there was only the latter. In the case of his survival, you would eternally be the former. You were not stupid enough to think for a moment that Kylo Ren would allow you to leave him. His was a selfish love.

Rather than clinging onto the hope that Rey represented, you had allowed Kylo Ren to convince you to corrupt it. This hit you as hard as it had the first time the realization had dawned.

“You won't win,” you said defiantly, as much for yourself as for the man to whom the words were directed. General Hux barked out a laugh at your response. “The Resistance will never die!”

“That may be, tooka; however, it will also never win.” You snarled in disgust at his words, a reply ready on your lips. You were not give the chance to say anything more. “Your father trained you to survive in the New Republic. He thought to prepare you for the possibility of war. Mine? Tooka, my father made my life a war. I have fought since the day I was born, and I will not allow some silly little girl to delude herself into believing her views are superior. Neither of us is an idiot. Snoke will be dealt with first—second, if you include the Resistance. Then Ren. Either you or I will be the one to defeat him if it comes down to it. Once Skywalker and the girl are dead. At that point: What. Will. You. Do? What then?”

You shook your head. “I…don’t know.”

“You are the best type of tool, tooka, because you are willing to die. I’m going to use you. When you’ve outlived your worth, you will die along with the rest of your kin.” Here he took a single step towards you. “Unless you remain useful to me.”

Your stomach churned at his words. His proposal was quite similar to that of Kylo Ren’s with the exception that this man had no love for you. He would indulge himself with your body again if given the chance; as he had said, you were no idiot. You would always be an expendable tool for him. General Hux simply wished for you to be an expendable tool that was on his side. You would never betray the Resistance in that manner, you told yourself. You would not join the First Order.

It was laughable for you to think such things when just the night before you had referred to Kylo Ren by the title Supreme Leader. You had imagined yourself by his side.

Again did your eyes roam along his split lip. His words repeated themselves; you imagined Brendol Hux beating his son, breaking him repeatedly while your father had sought to build you up. Both Armitage Hux and Kylo Ren had experiences that made them drastically different than you. And the girl, Rey, as well. From what little Ren had shared with you, you understood. If General Hux was willing to take you for an ally, he would not be opposed to accepting Rey as well.

You twisted your body, leaning against the back of the chair while allowing yourself to look at the semi-familiar surroundings. He had brought you here to calm you, to speak with you. The manipulative and controlling nature of his words nudged at your conscious. Your gaze darted to him. General Hux had not looked away from you.

“Snoke wishes to see you,” the redhead said, as though at last ready to reveal things. Such as why he had been in the hallway. You felt the muscles in your legs tense; he had been on his way to grab you. The warnings from the past made themselves known; General Hux knew that Snoke would attempt to dissuade his apprentice from having feelings for you. Not to kill you, or at least not yet. The act of patricide had left a scar on Kylo Ren. If the Supreme Leader of the First Order successfully broke you, or else convinced Kylo Ren to kill you, you would no longer be any use to the redhead whose quarters you were in. It was for selfish reasons that he had brought you here to recover from your emotional outburst. “It will be in person this time, tooka.”

There was a semblance of pity in his expression, and you accepted that it was out of commiseration. He was no stranger to Snoke’s cruelty. You gulped down what saliva had gathered in your mouth then gave a nod of acceptance. Having fully recovered at last, you rose onto shaky feet. General Hux took the lead, and you were only two steps behind him. Exiting his quarters, you found yourself wishing you had thought to pet Millicent. A silly thought, a useless gesture… Not useless, you told yourself. It was a gesture of hope.

You had endured while in the care of General Hux and Kylo Ren alike. You refused to allow Snoke to break you.

Officers and stormtroopers alike stepped out of the way when their paths crossed with yours. There was a small transport shuttle prepared that would take you from the Finalizer to the Supremacy. Your heart lurched into your chest as you beheld the larger ship. You had seen it through the viewports. Now that you were arriving at it, however, you were in awe of its size.

There were more personnel aboard, all of which glanced your way with a high level of contempt. You would have preferred the expressions to remain as such rather than turn into cruel smirks of delight the deeper into the Supremacy that you were taken. They knew you had been summoned by Snoke. No doubt they hoped to hear of your suffering. You, a Resistance member—former or present, it did not matter. You were their enemy and your pain brought them delight. That you wore no bindings did not make them nervous. You were trailing behind General Hux. There were blasters on every person, blasters that would be trained on you if you moved out of line.

The first thing you noticed when you entered the throne room was the color red. This you had constantly attempted to associate with the Resistance even after you had seen the lightsaber on the battlefield. The guards in the room also wore red, their armor similar yet with differences from one another. Your pace slowed. General Hux, in contrast, did not slow in the least. His arms were crossed behind his back, right wrist cupped in his left hand. The being upon the throne wore gold. His laughter was colder than anything you had heard in the past.

You stumbled in your next step, which caused the laughter to increase. “You’re as stubborn as I remember,” Supreme Leader Snoke said with a chuckle. You frowned at his words, clenching your teeth at the memory of when you had spoken to the enlarged hologram. That was when he had offered you the chance to willingly work with him. To shame your mother. You had refused. Now you could see him in a shade other than blue. His pale flesh. Those teeth that were bared in his grin. Your entire existence amused him.

Snoke rose from the throne, and General Hux immediately stopped walking, his frame growing rigid.

You found that you could not bring yourself to walk either when Snoke took a step in your direction. The red-armored guards altered their stance. You could see their weapons in your peripheral, yet you could not tear your gaze away from the Supreme Leader of the First Order. This was who had trained Kylo Ren. This was the one you hoped Kylo and Rey could kill together.

“It is disappointing that you have no capabilities with the Force,” Snoke said. He angled his body, one shoulder dropping as he tilted his head and stared down at you. “So stubborn. And your training—even that did not allow the others to survive my apprentice’s blade.” As he spoke, he was chuckling. The amusement had died away. The words were genuine; had you possessed Force sensitivity, you would have been even more at this man’s mercy. “As it is, you have proven useful…until he wandered to you rather than remaining here.”

You knew what he was speaking of. The moment Kylo Ren had felt the connection with Rey, he had gone to you. Did this mean that Snoke was aware of the connection? You refused to mention it on the off chance that he was not. Regardless, you doubted that General Hux was privy to this information.

Snoke turned, walking—pacing, you noted when he took another step. He gestured carelessly in the air with his hand. “He returned.” Another chuckle. “You need not look around for him, he isn’t here.” You barely caught the twitch of his finger before you were yanked forward. You landed on your hands in knees in front of him. You stared at the ground with wide eyes, your heart racing in your chest. “You, however, will be kept here. Take her to his quarters.”

You should have known better than to expect Snoke to reveal his full intentions to you. Two of the guards marched your way. Another flick of a finger from the Supreme Leader, and you were on your feet, your upper arms seized by those who would escort you. They shoved at you, turning you. One of the red-armored individuals stepped in front of you while the other remained behind. You did not protest them leading you. General Hux met your eyes; he had predicted this, which is one reason he was not displeased. He wanted you on the Supremacy while he remained on the Finalizer. He wanted you to be his eyes here.

Ren’s quarters aboard the Supremacy were larger. Only a little less bleak; black and white with hints of red. The table that was across from the bed was something two people could sit at. The guards did not remain with you. The moment you entered, they closed the door. You could hear a code being input on the other side. You were once more a prisoner of the First Order—of Snoke, specifically.

This was felt deeply, for as you looked around the empty room, you realized that you had left the tooke hairclip and digital pet aboard the Finalizer. You once more had nothing. Wrapping your arms around yourself, you stood in the center of Ren’s quarters while being hit with the knowledge that you did not have any of your clothes either. Snoke had effectively stripped away some of the foundations that had been the relationship between you and Kylo. The solitude. The small gifts and gestures. The familiarity of the Finalizer.

You could not even grab onto the helmet of Darth Vader for something to hold. In here, there was nothing.

And you could practically feel Snoke watching you. Whether it was through the Force, even if it was nothing more than your paranoid mind, you felt a violation similar to when Kylo Ren had torn through your memories.

There were no ashes in this room either. What a terrible thing to miss, you thought. It had never dawned on you how much comfort you had been given by the remnants of your comrades. A reminder that they were real—had been real, that what you were fighting for, you hadn’t been fighting alone. You felt far more shattered by Snoke’s act of having you trapped here than by the idea that Kylo Ren loved you despite all that had occurred.

I can be a monster, you thought, cupping the back of your neck with both of your hands. I will help Ren bring Rey here. I will… I will make sure Snoke dies. At what cost? But… But, if I do nothing…

Your yearning for death, for the end of this pain and the reunion with your parents, made itself known like a punch to your gut. You lowered yourself onto the floor, sitting there. It was not death, you noted. It was not that that you wanted. It was your father. You wanted him to help you, to tell you how to make it through all of this. Your father had taught you many things, but most importantly he had taught you to never give up. He had informed you of the ugliness in the world so that you would not become jaded when you encountered it.

You were surrounded by monsters that wanted you to join them. General Hux. Kylo Ren. Snoke. How many others? It doesn’t matter.

If Kylo Ren was not a Sith, you doubted that Snoke was considered to be one. He was strong in the Force, this was true. As for what he was, you did not know. And a large part of you did not care.

Any person, really, was a monster in the eyes of someone else. Admitting that to yourself hurt, while at the same time you felt a sense of relief. Peace. Had you not already told Kylo Ren that you had known you were something of a monster? You fought them. At the time of your death, you would—I love you. You flinched, pushing your palms flat against the floor so that you slid backwards. Your back hit the bedframe.

You forced yourself to remember once more how Kylo Ren had taken away your willpower. You called to mind the physical and emotional aches that had resulted from you being compelled to, as he had put it, desecrate yourself on his weapon. You touched your lower belly, your hand threatening to shift lower. You had scarred there, too. The injuries had not required stitches, no. But you had torn; your body had not been prepared for the intrusion. Had your mind not been influenced by his will, you believed that you would have torn worse. You would have been struggling.

This was the past he wanted you to let die.

Strangely…cruelly… Snoke had murdered a part of that past. No tooke hairclip, the one thing that had been yours. A small token. The first indication that you had meant anything to Ren. He thought of you even when away. Was he thinking of you now? You hated it, that your mind was on him. Not only because of the training you had received in the Resistance. This was something more…sentimental.

When the door to Kylo Ren’s quarters opened, you expected to see the man himself, if not a droid. You thus scrambled backwards and up onto your feet when the Supreme Leader entered. Behind him were two of the red guards. No, you noted; four. The set that entered behind him, and a pair who remained on the other side when the door slid closed. Whatever he planned to do, it was not something he wished General Hux to see—or hear.

“I knew that you would bring him further into the Dark. Passion has that effect.” His grin was as cruel as it had been in the throne room. You found yourself frozen in place by the Force. It terrified you that Snoke did not need to use any gestures. This spoke volumes about his power. The tall man stepped ever closer to you until he was able to touch the side of your face. You would have been trembling in fear if not for being force to remain still. “The jealousy he felt in regards to how your…father…treated you. What he had never had.

“And the conflict within him, that he wanted to take from you—a compulsion he had never felt before. The need to have power over you, to make you his. I knew you would try to kill him. Whether you fought against him or gave into him, you led my apprentice further into the Darkness, away from the idea that rejoining the flawed ideology of his parents would be anything but the fool’s errand that it is.

“You impressed me—attracting the general’s attention. I hardly had to put in more work to drive the wedge between them further. How well you’ve worked out for me.”

He had come here to gloat. He had come here…and instilled a sense of disgust over everything you had done with Ren. Not the moments wherein the two of you had acted as enemies. Snoke’s words were sullying the more tender interactions, the glimpses into Ren’s humanity.

“Ben Solo…and you…and, in time, the girl… All handed to me by the Resistance. Light is needed to build the tools that best thrive in the Dark.” Snoke pulled his hand away from you. “Skywalker will fall. The general has your Resistance on a thread. I look forward to seeing Kylo Ren fall further into the Dark… I am curious if you will at last break—be it death, or realizing that the order I will bring has always been the better choice.”

#kylo ren x reader #kylo x reader #kylo ren smut #three blind tooke #kylo ren imagine #elmidolfanfic #precarious harmony

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