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attic-club-sandwich · 1 year

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How they are Handling your Disappearance Pt. 2

Side Characters edition!

Okay you guys wanted more angst, so here you go! lol A part 2 with the side characters was requested, so I wrote for Diavolo, Simeon, Luke (purely platonic), and Solomon. I left Barb out because i'm very unsure of his role as of right now in Nightbringer. I hope you guys enjoy, please let me know what you think! You'll probably need some tissues again so prepare yourself! lol

Read Part 1: Brothers

Part 3: MC Returns

Genre: Angst, Hurt.

Taglist: @delphi-dreamin @bite-sized-devil @sassykattery @amberrskiies @a-hidden-gem @obey-me-posts @otomefoxystar @siofrantic @flemmingbamse i'm also going to tag @yourboyhack @ihatecorns @cherrybakewelltea and @exrellian too since you liked the first part! MC's return will be next! :3

But if you want to be tagged in my future work please fill out this form!

rose divider by @/firefly-graphics

The brothers were the first to be aware of your disappearance, but the news traveled fast between all of the people who were closest and dearest to you. No one knew where you went, but they knew one thing for sure: they were doing anything possible to bring you back home. After weeks of searching every inch of the Devildom, it was becoming apparent that you were no longer in the same realm. This of course sent a new wave of panic through everyone. Where did you go, MC? Why didn’t you tell anyone you were leaving?

❤️Diavolo❤️

If anyone should feel responsible for your disappearance, it’s The Demon Prince.

He is incredibly perplexed and disturbed by the fact that his human exchange student disappeared right out from under his watchful eye.

Diavolo usually has a very outgoing and joyous attitude, but it’s not the same since you left.

Instead, he becomes numb. Sad. Determined to do everything he can to find you.

Lucifer had come running to him in a state of panic, informing him that they couldn’t find you.

He rarely saw Lucifer act that way, so he knew it had to be serious.

He joined in on the search for you too.

Barbatos tried convincing him to stay at the castle, but he couldn't just sit and do nothing. The peace between the human world and the Devildom is at risk.

After days and weeks of searching with no results, he becomes depressed.

He uses every connection, every resource he has to find you.

But he can’t.

Not even the most powerful being in all the Devildom can locate one human.

To disgrace not only the Devildom, but his Father… It's too much to bear.

I’m such a poor excuse for a demon, how could I lose them so easily?

He sits at his office desk, staring down at the paperwork he’s supposed to be finishing. He's severely behind.

But instead of picking up the pen, his hands are clutching at his auburn hair as tears stream down his cheeks.

Barbatos walks on him in this state several times.

The sight of the dark, heavy bags under the Prince’s eyes causes a pang of sadness in his heart. He longs to comfort him.

But the Prince has become distant from him.

He doesn’t understand why Barbatos doesn’t use his powers to find you in such desperate times.

He’s confused. Angry.

He orders Barbatos away, and rests his head into his folded arms, wishing you were wrapped up in them instead.

Wherever you are, MC, I promise we will find you. We’ll bring you home.

💛Simeon💛

When Simeon learns of your disappearance, he almost doesn’t believe it.

But when he’s forced to face the reality of your absence, he feels it deep within his heart.

His usual calm demeanor starts to crack, but he wants to stay brave for Luke.

He doesn’t want to scare the young angel.

At first, he’s restless, pacing through the corridors of Purgatory Hall, trying to think of any way to contribute to your search.

But it’s been weeks. And still no sign of you.

Now he sits in one of the arm chairs in his bedroom, gazing out the window.

My little lamb, where have you disappeared to?

A book that he’s given up reading rests on his lap, his fingertips ghosting over the corners of the pages.

He wishes you were here with him, sitting comfortably in his lap while he whispers sweet nothings into your ear.

His eyes well up with tears at the thought.

Luke checks in with him often, bringing him updates when he can and suggesting they get out of his room for a while.

He sits with Luke in a cafe for a while, nursing a cup of coffee while Luke chatters about all of the things he’s going to do with you when you return.

This should cheer him up, but instead it sends a wave of indescribable sadness washing over him.

It’s not Luke’s fault, of course.

He appears to be handling it better than he is.

Simeon, who normally thrives on the joy he brings others through conversation and gentle smiles, requests to be alone.

He shuts himself away in his room, finally letting the tears fall.

His heart burns with grief as his body trembles.

As a writer, he figures the only thing he can do is compose a letter of his feelings for you.

MC, My love, please return home as soon as you can. Are you safe? I think of you constantly. Your absence brings a great sadness over me that I haven’t felt in quite some time. Even as a well known author, my words alone cannot express how deeply I miss and care for you. I love you, MC. I long to feel the warmth of you by my side once more. -Simeon

💙Luke💙

They try to go easy on telling Luke the news of your disappearance.

The young angel knew something was wrong when Simeon sat him down, a serious expression painted across his face.

“W-What?! MC is gone?!”

His heart is full of sadness and confusion, worried about where you could have possibly ran off to.

You wouldn’t just leave him without telling him where you were going, right?

He tries not to think about that.

So he puts all his energy into baking.

Desserts and pastries of all kinds line the kitchen tables and counters of Purgatory Hall.

Barbatos walks into the kitchen to see flour and a variety of different colored icing all over.

But there is Luke, frosting on his nose and tears in his eyes, baking away.

“I-I have to make sure there’s plenty of desserts for them to eat when they return!”

Luke offers several pastries for Barbatos to take to the brothers.

He doesn’t usually take kindly to them, but he knows they are working hard to find you.

He eventually slows down, growing tired from his baking frenzy.

Simeon goes to check on him, and finds the little angel asleep at the table, his head cradled in his arms and surrounded by a mountain of cookies he just got done baking.

He stirs a little when Simeon carries him to bed.

“M-MC…” he whimpers. “They’ll come back, right?”

He’s half awake now, aware of Simeon tucking him into bed.

The older angel gives him a sad smile. “Of course Luke, they love you so much. I know they’ll return home soon.”

Luke sniffs, a tear falling down his cheek as he begins to drift back to sleep.

“I-I miss them…I want them to try all of my desserts…”

Simeon wipes away his tears, attempting to hold back his own.

Luke begins to snore softly, dreaming of baked goods and picnics where you are there to share them with.

🖤Solomon🖤

When you first go missing, Solomon is confused.

You were just with him, where did you go? Is this some sort of joke?

His worry causes the demon brothers to panic.

Solomon is never too bothered by anything. He’s seen a lot of things in his lifetime.

But when you go missing suddenly with no explanation?

That’s something that terrifies him.

He hears the news from the brothers that your pact is no longer active with them.

That worries him even more.

He immediately jumps into action.

He searches the location of where you were last seen and picks up on lingering traces of magic.

That's odd, he thinks. He was proud of how far you've come with your abilities as his apprentice, but he knew this magic was way too strong to be yours.

This was the work of someone much more powerful.

Nonetheless, a flutter of hope rises in his chest. He's one step closer to finding you.

He analyzes the magic, and comes to the conclusion that you were transported through time to a past version of the Devildom.

Once he connects all the dots, he uses Barbatos' power to find you.

Of course, it takes a few tries, but he finds you.

He let's out a breath of relief as he gathers you into his arms, squeezing you tight.

You sob into his chest as he holds you.

His poor, adorable apprentice. Lost and confused.

"There there, MC. It's going to be alright. We'll get you home soon."

But now he’s stuck there too, with no way to contact the brothers or Diavolo to tell them of your location.

He could, theoretically return but he wouldn't dare go back to the present without you by his side.

Lucifer about murdered him already, and you desperately needed his help.

He secretly couldn't bear the thought of leaving you alone.

But this will be interesting, he thought.

Let's see how this plays out.

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localtelephonebooth · 5 months

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Thoughts on Kieran’s relationship with Ogerpon as a previously obsessive teenager:

(I did not proof read this. I just woke up, had the urge, and now it’s here.)

Kieran, to me, is a very relatable character. He is a shy, and quiet teenager in a small town. He lacks friendships and possibly meaningful connections with those who do spend time with him. He’s probably isolated due to the fact that he lacks a phone. Any friends he does make are likely school based only. So, Kieran latches on to anything he can to feel less alone in life. And of course he latches onto Ogerpon. Ogerpon is just like him. A sad “monster” all isolated and alone in the mountains. I’m certain that Kieran has fantasized about meeting Ogerpon and getting into wild adventures with her. I did the same thing with characters I enjoyed.

Princess Luna, for example (sorry to whiplash anyone with that), was a character I heavily related to. She was alone and isolated due to her previous actions. She struggled with fitting in and having a healthy relationship with her sister for awhile. To say I didn’t form an obsession with a character who understood my feelings would be a lie. I think Kieran is the same.

He became obsessed with Ogerpon. He become obsessed with the ideas he crafted of him and Ogerpon. In a way, that fantasy was VERY real to him. So when we come around and lie about meeting Ogerpon, and inevitably become friends with her behind his back, of course he freaks out! We stole his fantasy of him and Ogerpon! And that’s the key point here that people tend to not realize. We didn’t steal Ogerpon from Kieran, we just stole his fantasy and made it our reality.

With my obsession with princess Luna (again, whiplash), if anyone said they loved princess Luna it was a fucking attack on me. Princess Luna was my best friend, and she could only love me! Everyone else was just a jealous thief.

As an adult looking back on this mindset, it’s horribly embarrassing. It’s a mindset I carried into my real life, when I actually started making friends, that ruined so much for me. I lost friends because I was so angry that my fantasies were not reciprocated. I really do think Kieran does the same. He grows sad and frustrated over what happened with Ogerpon. His fantasy is just a fantasy, and that’s fucking with him. So naturally, he finds a new fantasy to, hopefully in his mind, make a reality. And so he chose battling and winning against you. The thing we used to “steal” Ogerpon away from him (Even though Kieran technically suggested battling for Ogerpon, I don’t doubt he used it to rationalize why she didn’t want to come with him). To him, being the best battler will solve everything. Kieran will get his revenge, he’ll finally be recognized, everyone can’t lie to him because they fear or admire him, and he’ll prove to Ogerpon he was the right choice.

Now, I want to say something about Kieran. A detail that, for whatever reason, people don’t like to acknowledge: He’s just a kid.

I’m not saying “He’s a widdle baby. He can do no harm!” No, Kieran’s an asshole. He became a bully. I can have empathy for his emotions, but not excuse his actions. He’s a dumb and entitled teenager with issues. And, quite obviously, he doesn’t really have a way to deal with his issues in a healthy manner (seriously, his school is based solely on battling. Anyone who’s going or gone to a specialized school can understand how toxic people can get in that type of environment. And don’t even get me started on the incompetence of the adults in Kieran’s school).

Kieran is a teenage boy growing up right now. He’s got a lot to work through, and a lot of people he’s gotta confront about his behavior. He was an asshole, a bully, and genuinely a bad person for minute. But that doesn’t mean he isn’t growing past that. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t deserve recognition for his growth. You can recognize someone has changed and not forgive them.

Kieran is a really intriguing character and holds a valuable lesson in obsession. And I really wish people would recognize that he’s not just an irredeemable prick or an innocent little guy. He’s a kid learning. He’s going to make really stupid and bad mistakes. Just like how I, and probably you reading this, did.

Anyways, hopefully we see him interact with the Area Zero buddies. I think those three have amazing lessons that Kieran can learn from. Maybe Kieran can teach them a few things too!

#pokemon #pokemon scarlet and violet #the teal mask #the indigo disk #pokémon #pokemon kieran #kieran #ogerpon #hey thanks for reading my rambles!#I’m really hoping with the epilogue that gamefreak doesn’t use the peach to excuse his actions #but I think the peach only enhances negative emotions that were already there #idk we’ll have to see!#hopefully the writing isn’t too incoherent

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muwapsturniolo · 4 months

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✯Matt dating a black girl✯

-he doesn’t know how he pulled you fr but he’s very happy he did

-if you’re rowdy (like me fr) he gets stressed.

-I’m talking deep sighs and rubbing over his face in frustration

-“bitches can’t say excuse me?”

-“y/n please don’t start.”

-“you saying that makes me want to start”

-when he gets in his lil moods (tough guy) yall bud heads

-“Matt who are you talking to cause I know damn well it’s not me!”

-hears your tone and apologizes (it’s the same tone our mommas use when we talk back💀)

-for my soft black girlies, you always have him giggling like a lil girl

-“you so handsome, I just wanna smother you in kisses!”

-if he catches an attitude with you and you gets upset, he’s on his knees saying sorry.

-if you got ass, he can’t handle the twerking😭 his head actually moves in circles and his eyes are WIDE!!!

-sexxy redd comes on at a party and you start dancing, this man starts blushing and everyone tells him he can’t handle you (he can)

-he loves when you sit on his lap. Chairs are available? He does not give af, SIT ON HIS LAP!!!

-if you got titties, his eyes won’t stay off of em. You could be wearing a regular tshirt and he gonna be like 👀

-“Matt stop looking at my boobs I’m literally in my wash day tshirt”

-“don’t care, I’m not arguing with a girl who has big boobs!”

-speaking of wash day

-this man loves watching the process

-keeps asking questions like a lil kid

-“what’s this for? Why do you need to many creams and oils? Does that hurt? WHY IS SO MUCH HAIR COMING OUT!?”

-“stop talking to me because my hair isn’t acting right and I’m two seconds away from crying and hitting myself with this brush.”

-wants to help but chooses not too, afraid he will put the wrong creme in the wrong order

-he loves going to the beauty supply because the aunties fawn over him.

-“hey Matt baby! Our girl treating you right?”

-“hi auntie Yolanda. She is, but she got mad because I didn’t get her candy she wanted.”

-“y/n if you don’t leave this boy alone!”

-“I didn’t even do anything!”

-buys all your stuff with no problem!

-“you always smell like pancakes and syrup.”

-goes feral over your shea butter, coco butter, vanilla, brown sugar scent.

-I’m talking he wants to be all over you and possibly have sex anywhere.

-“Matt we are in the car going to my parents house!”

-“Please? I’ll be quick.”

-he doesn’t not understand time! If you don’t know what I mean, let me explain.

-“shouldn’t we be leaving now? It starts at 5.”

-“no. 5 means you will be helping set up. We need to be there at 6:15.”

-blinks at you in confusion but nods anyway.

-if you not that close to your fam he gets confused as to why

-“don’t you think you should talk to them? That argument happened two years ago?”

-“and I’ll still swing at thanksgiving dinner!”

-loves eating at your parents house but thinks everything is supper spicy.

-“Matt it’s literally just seasoning salt?¿”

-“are you sure?”

-lowkey gets mouthy with your family on accident but he apologizes when your mom gives him, the look (yall know what im talking about)

-At the cook out he’s gets roped in to grilling.

-mf suddenly has a towel over his shoulder and joking with your uncles.

-he does sum that makes you and your fam look at him oddly.

-“Gon head and sit at the kids table baby.”

That’s all I can think of💀 hope yall enjoy

TAG LIST 🍑

@bernardsgf @bernardsleftbootycheek @blahbel668 @mattfrfr @gdsvhtwa @sturniolo-aali @lily-loves-struniolos @kynda-avery @causeidontlikeagoldrush

@st7rnioioss @carolinalikesthings @mattslolita @suyqa @xxloveralways14 @pepsiimaxx @judespoision

@ivonchetooo1239 @iloveurgf @m4stermindd @itzdarling @gigisworldsstuff @that-general-simp

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wayfayrr · 5 months

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Hello! Congrats on 300 followers!! (your 300 follower event idea is so cute btw omg)

Could i request a soft mulled wine with candy canes to eat in please?

Here's your order - I hope everything is to your tastes <3

it's super fun to see how the same prompt can be done so differently for different characters!!! Wild especially is one of my favourites because he's just soooo - it's hard to put into words but I just love him so much

[Event masterlist]

“I don't think I've seen those plants before, my slate isn't recognising them either…”

“Must be something unique to legends Hyrule then, they must've just vanished before your time.”

He’s still focused on whatever is growing above us, although I could've sworn we were just standing under pines. Ones that are common in his home, is there something I’m missing here? What is he focusing on so intently? Is there somethin-

“You’re looking at the mistletoe? Does it really not exist in your hyrule… I guess that means the traditions doesn’t exist either then, does it?”

“Tradition?”

“So I’m right then? It doesn’t?”

Why does he seem a little ashamed by that, his ears have drooped and he doesn’t want to look at me. Is he that used to always knowing about plants or is it that he’s worried about having lost his memories about it.

“to be fair wild, I'm not entirely sure it exists in hyrule anyway. might just be something from my world.”

“what kind of tradition is it, do you miss it at all?”

“hmm, well it's mostly just fun… depends on who you're with really. Want me to show you what it is?”

he's perking up a bit now, still a little down but that should change in a moment seeing as he's nodding.

“You sure? you don't even know what it is and you wanna go through with it?”

“You’re not making it sound like a good thing… Twi isn’t going to lecture us for this is he?”

“No, no of course not. Not unless he’s got a secret crush on me anyway.”

“Wha-”

Before he had a chance to respond, I already had a hand on his collar pulling him toward me. If he wants to learn about the mistletoe then what could possibly be better than experience. I’ve been wanting to kiss him for a while now too, so it’s a perfect excuse. His lips are so soft, incredible considering how he lives the shrine must’ve had some permanent effects after it all. Kissing him is awkward to say the least, the mixture of him being caught so off guard and the fact he’s frozen solid leads to a very quick attempt at a quick peck on the lips.

Until it's over, and I've pulled away from him. It'd be a lie if I said I wasn't mildly disappointed by how little he reacted, maybe I was reading all the signs wrong and he simply didn't care for me like that. I should have given him more of a hint to what I was going to do, if he doesn't like me then it was simply cruel to force him to kiss me.

“I - sorry I didn't - I made you uncomfortable I should've told you what it was. I'm sorry link.”

“That’s the tradition then? Pressing your lips to someone elses?”

“Not quite - it’s to kiss whoever you’re standing under it with but I didn’t want to overwhelm you with...hu-!”

The disappointment must’ve shown on my face, or he just… did he just want to kiss me again? This time he’s the one taking the lead, holding my face so gently in his hands sliding his fingers slowly into my hair. The fact that he’s likely never kissed anyone makes it more clumsy, gently and softly he’s trying to find the best way to do it and I’m loving every second of it. Even despite it being the most uncertain kiss I’ve ever had… it’s taking my breath away simply how much care is going into it. Drawing a soft gasp from me too with how he’s biting faintly on my lips.

Everything has to come to an end eventually though, as he pulls away with a smirk and the cutest blush I’ve ever seen in my entire life. I’ll have to devote a lot more of my time to flustering him from now on, there’s no possible way that I could go without seeing that at least once more in my life. I would rather the shadow simply kill me than be condemned to that fate.

“That was -”

“Ishouldv’easkedI’msosor-”

“ - It was amazing link. Would you… if I asked would you do it again?” That seemed to be the final thing to fully overwhelm him, with his face going from being softly dusted with blush to being a scorching crimson while he’s trying to shy away in his own hair. If I didn’t think I could go without the one before, then I already know I’ll die if I don’t get to see it more often. It’s a shame he’s trying so hard to hide it, if only I could just…

“[Name]... What are you?”

“Oh! I um… I wasn’t thinking I just. I you look so cute and I just, you don’t need to hide yourself away from me link.”

Just a shaky breath and nuzzling his head on my hand in response. He can’t even look me in the eye.

“Does this mean that you like the tradition though?”

this is evolving into a proper taglist now, if you'd like to join feel free to ask! - @sketchyspook, @fanfic-fairy-fountain, @mushroomwoods, @glowyskull

#soft flustered wild? a favourite of mine #lu wild x reader #link x reader #botw link x reader #botw x reader #linked universe x reader #moss✦writes #candy✦canes #help I installed that animal crossing typing extension when I was writing and couldn't stop laughing

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fangsandfracturedhearts · 29 days

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Fangs and Fractured Hearts

Chapter 14: Devil's Ploy

Summary: After embracing eternity as a vampire spawn under Astarion's wing, the Crimson Palace becomes a haunting symbol of the man he once was. As his personality unravels into a dark abyss, you flee. A year of hardship unveils the harsh reality of existence as a vampire spawn.

Just as all hope seems lost, a twist of fate reunites you with Astarion, revealing a glimmer of hope amidst the shadows. As you navigate the complexities of your relationship, you must confront the unsettling truth behind the Rite of Profane Ascension and the devilish secrets it holds.

In a race against time, you embark on a daring quest to save Astarion from his descent into darkness. With each choice you make, the stakes grow higher, testing the limits of your courage and determination.

Will Astarion find redemption, or is he destined to succumb to his own inner turmoil?

Word Count: 6k

Pairing: Ascended Astarion x female!Tav Spawn

Warnings: [Will try to continue to add more, but in general expect explicit content for mature audiences]

Possible spoilers. Eventual Explicit Content. Slow Burn. Thoughts of Suicide. Violence. Blood. Injury. Mature Content. Self-Harm. Mentions of in-game content. Completely fabricated camp events. Mentions of Astarion's Trauma.

If you notice a very critical tag missing, please don't hesitate to let me know

Rating: Explicit 18+ - [Meant For Mature Audience]

You snort and blink rapidly to clear your nose of the fetid sulphuric odour burning the membranes of your nostrils, throat and eyes. In the cramped, dimly lit sewers, where the air doesn’t stir, the stench of it lingers and never seems to dissipate.

When your vision finally becomes unimpaired by burning tears, the cambion and her fire-red hair, horns bedazzled with chains of gold, is leering at you with a conniving expression that makes your stomach sink. You’ve seen this expression on her plenty of times when she was scheming and plotting.

“Gods above,” you hiss with a rasp to your voice. “What do you want, Mizora? I thought I was good and done with your kind.”

“And here I thought we had all become such good friends,” she titters, feigning cordiality terribly. “You always did have so much… spunk. I’m happy death still hasn’t taken your lovely little spark.”

“You can ask Raphael all about my spark,” you smirk. Vivid blue lightning crackles and buzzes over your fingertips. “Oh, wait. You can’t because I killed him for seeing me as no more than a little mouse, a pawn, and I will do the same with you if you think you can play games with me.”

“Oh-yes,” Mizora giggles, not one iota ruffled by your threats. “All nine Hells were positively astir with the news of his demise. He always was such a pompous and over-confident twat, not unlike your master, I suppose."

Master. Ugh.

“I would be lying if I said it was nice to see you again, Mizora. If you will excuse me, I have my prey to hunt, and you’ve made me lose its trail.”

You can’t hear or smell Elowyn anymore. She will be deep into the ruin by now, or worse yet, in the Crimson Palace itself, but you still don’t understand what use she would have of that place. There is nothing left there but closed cells full of rotting gore that can never be opened again since you made Astarion break Cazador’s quarterstaff - Woe. Insofar as you’re aware, that was the only key to controlling everything.

“A great pity you’re in such a rush, pet,” Mizora snickers. Gods, you hate being called “pet.” You almost growl, but you’re too preoccupied with the rising feeling of foreboding swishing around in your stomach. You know that laugh and dread what’s about to come out of her mouth next. “I was going to offer to assist your Vampire Ascendant with his little… problem, but I suppose if you don’t want help… well, you can lead a horse to water, but you can’t make it drink. Ta-ta!”

“Wait!” You snap, whirling around. You’re going to regret this. “Wait… What do you know of Astarion’s ailment?”

“I thought that might get your attention,” she smirks smugly. “Let’s make ourselves more comfortable, shall we? You may be accustomed to living in such filth, but I am decidedly not.”

Mizora snaps her fingers, fire bursts to life all around you, and then you’re in a grand sitting room with glitzy settees, lounges and chairs. Rugs made of creatures you’ve never seen before litter the floor. Some appear reptile-like with scaly hides, others plush furs, others with feathers and more with something you can only begin to describe as some form of cartilaginous exoskeleton. They look at you with glassy, dead eyes ashine in their long-dead sockets.

It’s stiflingly hot, and you peer out of double doors leading to the terrace and take in the landscape. In the distance, black, jagged mountains pierce the horizon with peaks wreathed in an eerie crimson mist. Brimstone and fire dance in a perpetual inferno bordering a river made entirely of lava or possibly blood. It’s hard to tell from this height. The air is acrid and clouded with volcanic ash, and the sky flickers reds and oranges as fireballs race through clouds of darkest black.

“Avernus,” Mizora gushes. “Isn’t it beautiful?”

“I think I preferred the sewers,” you croak, wiping the sweat from your brow and going back inside. It does little to provide any comfort or liberation from the sweltering climate.

“Of course, sewer spawn,” she scoffs indignantly and drops unceremoniously onto a lounge. “It was your home for a little while. Wasn’t it? Until the Cleric and Wizard found you down there.”

“Have you been watching me this entire time?” You cross your arms and quirk a brow at her. “Do you have nothing better to do than derive pleasure from pain and suffering?”

“Oh, darling.” Her head falls back, and she laughs, “Of course! Who wouldn’t want to watch this little tragedy play out? It has been quite amusing thus far.”

“I’m glad you’re enjoying the show,” you bow sarcastically with a frown. “If you’re getting such a kick out of it, why are you meddling in my nightmare?”

“Sit. Won’t you?” She gestures toward the chaise. Mizora won’t tell you anything until you do as she asks. This is all part of her little game, after all. So, you sit with a roll of your eyes. “I would have been happy to watch until the vampire killed you, but alas, all good things must come to an end. Zariel and the other archdevils have other plans.”

Fuck. If another archdevil, or several, from the sounds of it, are getting involved, this is unlikely to be good. What got you here was another deal with an archdevil, but if there’s even a chance that something Mizora might tell you can give you somewhere to start, well, you can humour her.

“Which are?”

“Oh,” Mizora shrugs. “I don’t know, little lamb. I am merely a messenger.”

“Okay,” you comb your fingers through your sweat-dampened hair. She’s lying. You can see the hinting glint in her eyes. She knows more than she’s letting on. “Well, what is it you can tell me?”

The toothy, menacing smile that sidles across Mizora’s face should send you running. She sneers, “Tell me. What do you know of Mephistopheles?”

You shrug, “I know he is an archdevil, a rather powerful one. His domain is Cania. The Rite of Profane Ascension was a contract with him. Beyond that, I do not spend much time researching devils.”

“So, nothing then,” she pouts. “Well, allow me to enlighten you.”

Fire leaps to life in a circle, and Mizora’s eyes gleam with the keenness of a wild cat as you jump and get ready to defend yourself. Everything goes black except for the inferno burning around you.

As you watch the writhing blaze, depictions form in the leaping flames, moving against them. A towering devil with bright red skin, curling ram horns and massive bat-like wings jutting out from his back. He has an unnervingly charming smile, but it’s offset by cold, milk-white eyes that stare through you, making you shudder.

The figure paces around, muttering to himself and the empty grand halls around him. His eyes bounce around with feral neuroticism. He twitches, growls, hisses and waves his hand as if shooing away an annoying insect while snarling.

Abruptly, the fiery figure lets out a blood-curdling shriek and starts clawing at his skin, tearing gashes into himself until his skin is hanging in gruesome, dripping flaps from his arms and chest. Fire explodes in his palms, and he flings around bolts of Hellfire, instantly turning everything around him to ash. He pivots quickly and appears to be looking straight at you. He roars so loud you’re sure your eardrums have burst. He charges toward you with the ferocity of a rabid animal and a fireball barrels toward you.

Everything goes black, and you fall onto the floor by Mizora, who is snickering.

“What in the Hells was that?” You snap, getting up and getting in her face. You grab that fur collar in your hands and shake her, “What the fuck did I just witness?”

“Mephistopheles, for all his cunning and brilliance, is a deeply troubled individual. As you saw, he is neurotic and suspicious and often flies into fits of explosive and violent rage. Does that remind you of anyone?”

“… Astarion,” you breathe and stumble back. “Oh Gods…”

“Yes, pet.” Mizora nods with a fiendish cackle. “I can see you putting it all together. The Vampire Ascendant was an experiment of sorts. As you can imagine, these tendencies are not becoming of an archdevil. In an effort to rid himself of his neurotic temper, he needed a willing vessel to imbue with a portion of his nature. What better way to lure a willing participant than to offer unfathomable power?”

You collapse onto the chaise, wracking your fingers through your hair, “The Vampire Ascendant was nothing more than a way for Mephistopheles to offload his psychosis?”

Gods above. It makes so much sense. Astarion’s blind fits of rage. The voices in his head. The alternate version of him that sometimes takes control. You never got to see the whole contract. Did Raphael know about this and neglect to say it?

“But.” You add, looking at Mizora, “Astarion is himself some of the time.”

“Ah-yes,” Mizora snickers, glancing at her nails. “The vessel was never supposed to have an intact soul. It’s much easier to work with an empty cask than one that is already full, so to speak. A spawn was never supposed to usurp the ritual. I would say an oversight on Mephistopheles’ part, but truly, who could have imagined a spawn would get infected with a mind flayer tadpole that broke his master’s chains? Then, he just so happened to come upon a fine hero to help him. It’s all rather ludicrous sounding. Astarion’s soul is fractured but not completely eradicated. Well, not yet at least.”

“What do you mean not yet?”

“Think of it like this,” Mizora speaks to you slowly, as if you might not be smart enough to understand the metaphor slipping past her lips. “The entity is like an infection. It contaminates him, tainting everything from his thoughts, the platelets in his blood, to the marrow in his very bones, faster than his body can heal itself.”

“Why are you telling me all of this?” You’re starting to get suspicious. Where is the catch? The line she will hook you with?

“Can’t I just want to help out an old friend?” She pouts.

You glower at her and cross your arms, “No.”

“You were always so clever.” Mizora suddenly becomes serious, “Mephistopheles is a threat. Now that he is no longer burdened by his demons, he’s set his aspirations quite high. Too high for the liking of many of the archdevils. We would like to see him reunited with himself. It’s a very fine little deal. You get what you want to rid Astarion of the entity that’s eating him from the inside out, and we get to cage Mephistopheles back in the prison of his mind. A warning, pet. It will not be an easy road.”

“My life has never been easy. Why would it start now?” You sigh, “Tell me what needs to be done, and I will do it.”

“Such a good little spawn. Aren’t you? He’s killed you, tortured you, starved you, beat you, emotionally ruined you, and stolen your name, and you’re still willing to risk yourself to save him?” Mizora giggles, “I would say it was a true love story in the making were it not so fucking tragic.”

“What do you mean stolen my name?” You growl, cocking your head at her, “I have a name!”

“Oh,” she snickers, “Then tell me, pet. What’s your name?”

“My name…” You trail off, wracking your brain for the word. It’s right there, sitting precariously on the tip of your tongue. “My name… It’s… It’s…”

Mizora’s laughter is a haunting melody, a sinister cackle in a chilling symphony. That sound could freeze the blood of the bravest soul and make the earth tremble, “You can’t remember it. Can you?”

You replay old conversations in your head. You can see Shadowheart’s lips moving, but then there’s a sudden silence where all you hear is white noise even though she’s still talking. It’s the same with conversations with Gale, just white noise in the place where your name should have been.

Astarion stole your name from you… When did that happen, and why can’t you remember? What else has he stolen from you?

“What’s my name,” you swallow the thick odium that’s erected itself into your throat. You shriek, rage sweeping through you in a gust of hatred, “What my name, Mizora! Say it!”

Mizora smiles haughtily and speaks. You focus with every iota of your capacity, watching her lips move, but it is as you feared. Your ears hear nothing but the breathy whisper of silence, and your eyes seem unable to read the phonetics on her lips.

You’re his darling. His sweet girl. His precious treasure. His consort. His nameless spawn.

And yet, you’re still prepared to sacrifice your life.

Yes, a very good little spawn, indeed.

“It doesn’t matter,” you mutter, clenching your chest as a tendril of sadness wraps around your heart and chokes it. “What do I have to do?”

“Before we can do anything about Astarion. We must first unbind him from his contract.” Mizora says, eyes narrowing, fixed on you. “I don’t care how you do it, but you must get Astarion’s contract from Mephistopheles. Steal it. Bargain for it. The choice is yours, but you must do it fast. There’s no way to know how much time before Astarion is lost forever.”

Mizora deposits you back into the sewers, and her voice bounces off the stony passageways, “Tick-tock, tick-tock, pet.”

You consider continuing to try to track Elowyn, but you’re reeling with information and cannot fathom how you would even begin to concentrate on her. She must be dealt with. That is certain, but it must wait until your mind isn’t fraught and unsettled.

How are you supposed to get Astarion’s contract from Mephistopheles? Bargaining for it should be your last resort, but how do you get to Cania, the eighth layer of the Nine Hells, survive it long enough to sneak into Mephistar and somehow sneak through an archdevil citadel? It seems like an impossible task.

Should you tell Astarion? He would usually be the first person you ran to for help with a heist, but he’s unlikely to let you go, even if it is the only means to save him from inevitably losing himself entirely. You can’t risk Astarion forcing you to stay, but you might not be able to risk going to the Hells without him. The Vampire Ascendant will likely be an invaluable asset if you meet resistance. But if he loses himself, you might not survive Astarion’s wrath long enough to get where you’re going. Whether that thing inside him is a separate entity or a version of himself that’s been infected and corrupted, you doubt it will take kindly to you trying to remove it.

Do you approach Shadowheart? You would be putting her in great peril, but she might be able to help with research. This is your mistake to fix, and you don’t relish putting your friend’s lives on the line. Karlach and Wyll are in the Hells. They may be able to help ascertain a way to get to Cania, but you’ll need to figure out how to contact them.

And Good Gods, your name…

The silent corridors echo with the foreboding sound of your heavy footsteps like the ominous rumble of an approaching storm as you work through the maze of gangways and channels. Tears stroll in rivulets down your snowy cheeks, liquid poetry to express all the emotions you can’t.

Dejection. Grief. Fear. Defeat. Loss.

Lost in the spiralling thoughts, you forget to look to the sky as you drag your weary body home. The only thing you want right now is to curl up in the strong arms of Astarion and let him hold your broken pieces and fears together because you’re not sure if you can do it by yourself.

The sun cracks the skyline, the first rays of the soft light of an autumn day embracing the streets, but the sun no longer embraces you. It blinds and broils you. Your skin glows, flakes, and melts. Deep, molten silver-blue channels crack in your arms, legs and face. The pain is so intense you can’t even remember to scream as you stand, waiting for your skin to slough off your bones and cover the street with ash.

You don’t remember reaching out to the bond with Astarion, but his voice fills your head, “Gods above. What in the nine Hells are you doing!? ” Astarion bellows. Panic infects his usual halcyon timbre, “Find shelter! I’m coming!”

The pain is all-consuming. You can’t move, can’t think, can’t speak as your nerves are melted away. Your skin dissolves like water evaporating under the sun’s heat. Every inch of your skin is being flayed in a single moment that lasts forever.

You will die nameless and alone.

“Fuck! Find shelter. Now!”

Astarion’s compulsion overrides everything else, and your body moves stiffly to obey the command even as it smokes and your skin is loosened from your frame, liquifying and dripping off your arms and legs, turning to ash in midair and being carried away by the morning breeze.

Find shelter. Find shelter. Find shelter.

Your instructions resound in your head even louder than the pain that falls to a buzz in the background. You can’t even blink as your fingers curl around the boards of a long-abandoned shack. Gods. Are those your fingers? Is that bone you see? You wrench the board off the window. The pads of your fingers squelch and ooze. When you throw the boards down, your skin sticks to them, peeling away in rangy, fibril bands like gum. Thank the Gods, you lack the capacity to mull it over much as your body throws itself inside without your consent.

With the order completed, there is a brief moment of pure, blissful euphoria - a reward for being so very obedient. The compulsion pales, the vines recede, and you’re pitched back into the residual agony that has yet to abate.

Now that the sun is no longer skinning you alive, the pain has lessened, and you remember how to scream. An inhumane noise rends your throat somewhere between a shriek and a wail. Your head lolls to the side, and your eyes fall to your arms.

You immediately wish they hadn’t.

Your skin is not the smooth pearlescent you’re used to seeing now that the colour it once held has faded to death’s grip. It’s powdery and matte. You’re sure you’re looking at the bones of your forearms in the chasmal rifts.

You hear white noise in your head, murmuring over the bond. It feels like Astarion is trying to contact you, but you hear no words. To get your thoughts off the pain still being recited by your nerves, you shift your focus to the emotions in your head, trying to sift through them. Astarion’s heartbeat in your chest is excruciating. It hammers with the intensity of a blacksmith striking an anvil. He’s petrified, bordering on hysterical.

You reach out in your head, “Astarion?”

“Little love!” He howls. You must remember to request he not attempt to dissolve your brain matter. “Why haven’t you been answering me?”

“Where are you?”

“Close, my treasure.”

You don’t know how much time elapses as you bounce between consciousness and dissociation while focusing on not moving. The less you move, the better for you, but your limbs and muscles seem to jerk and twitch without your consent, and every time, it sends another agonizing swell of suffering to break over you. Teardrops flutter on your lashes, but you can’t move to wipe them away.

Your ears pick up the thudding tempo of Astarion’s beating heart before he bursts through the door, scattering the planks and showering splinters in his haste. Astarion drops to his knees beside you. He visibly shudders as his eyes land on you, slumped against a wall.

“Hells,” he breathes, chest heaving from exertion. You can feel his horror in your head, but you need not. It’s evident in his shaky and rapid speech, “It’s okay. I’m here. I’m here. You’re safe. Look at me, darling.”

Why, after everything he has done to you, is his proximity so remarkably comforting? You let your eyes roam over him and truly appreciate the beauty before you. His scarlet eyes, dazzling like vivid, perfectly polished jewels ashine behind… tears? No. That doesn’t seem right. Your vision is blurred from your eyes being boiled in their sockets. You must be imagining the tears, but his eyes are beautiful nonetheless. His sculpted, full lips, which once held the promise of an eternity of silk kisses, are downturned at the corners. You would give anything to run your fingers along them right now, feel them on your skin, taste them on your tongue. He is breathtaking, quite literally.

“Sweetheart.” Astarion reaches to you. His fingers tremble as they hover below your jaw. He knows it will hurt if he touches you, “Can you hear me?”

You answer in his head because moving the muscles in your face to make you capable of speech will hurt, “Yes. I hear you.”

“I can compel you to not feel the pain, to sleep, but I need your permission.” His eyes bore into you. His voice is a favourite dream you long to slip into, “Please.”

It’s dangerous permission to give. You’ve told him you will leave if he compels you again, but he just did, didn’t he? He compelled you to find shelter when you could not do it yourself. He compelled you from afar. He does not need to be near you to force commands upon you. He can wrap your brain and body around his finger like twine from anywhere, anytime, on a whim. But Gods, you will do anything to make this pain end, to drift away from this fucking nightmare.

“Do it.”

Immediately, you feel your control funnelling away, like sand through an hourglass.

“You feel no pain,” he purrs, and the pain vanishes as your nerve endings deactivate. It’s a blissful respite, and you sigh. “Thank you for trusting me. Sleep now.”

Your brain shuts off. Darkness claims you, and Hells below, you welcome it.

“Wake.”

The directive floats through your comatose mind like a beam of light cuts through the pitch-blackness of nullity. Your faculties burst to life, waking one by one, unfurling like a blooming flower. The first thing you feel is hunger so painful that your body jerks to collapse in on itself as your limbs jolt and tremor insuppressibly. Excruciating cramps make your toes curl and your hands ball into fists. Your mind is raving, mad with hunger. You consider biting your tongue if only for the sweet succour of that crimson elixir.

You cannot think of anything other than the sensation of your insides gnawing on themselves, the paralyzing contracting of every ligament and tendon in your body, the desiccation that’s withered your tongue, and the grave need to feed - on anything and anyone.

Another spasm causes you to lurch and claw at your skin like you could dig yourself out of this ailing body. Warm hands clasp your wrists, and all your mind can think is warm means alive, and alive means blood. Your eyes snap open, but your addled brain simply cannot process the visual input, and you don’t think twice before fire erupts from your palms.

“Shit!”

You hear it, but you do not process it. As soon as the grip on you rescinds, you lunge at this figure before you whose beating heart is thrumming the provocative siren song of life and food. Colliding with it is like being throttled into a brick wall, but you waste no time fumbling and climbing with bared fangs. You’re so close to that beautifully pulsing vein, and it’s the only thing your eyes can focus on.

Stomach bubbling with hunger, you go to bite, jaws snapping and slobbering like a feral beast. As soon as your fangs hover within striking distance, your body arrests, and you’re instantaneously immobilized.

Strong arms wrap around you, lift, and sink you to the floor. A hand cradles your cheek, and the branching blue-purple veins make you swoon. You think about biting them only to have your body freeze up on you further. It guides your eyes to vivid crimson irises that spark recognition and reason back into your dazed lucidity.

“Astarion…”

“Stop thinking about biting me,” he chuckles and shifts you to the side. “You’ll be able to move again.”

“What?” You would quirk a brow at him, but you’re too focused on trying to push your intentions of biting him away. They do not concede to your urges, and you find your eyes wander without your permission to any vein that might be in striking distance. Astarion always gently walks your errant gaze back to his. “You haven’t compelled me?”

“Ah. Apologies. I do forget how new you are to this.” Astarion reaches for something on the dresser to his right, “No. This is not a compulsion. As my…” he trails off.

“Spawn.” You state with a palpable despondency threaded between the fog of hunger that looms over you.

“I do hate that word,” he shakes his head with discontentment as if he does not want to face the reality of what he has turned you into. “You are physically unable to bite me without my permission. Your body simply will not allow you to do it. Which is why you currently cannot move.”

Astarion holds a goblet out to you, and your stomach is set on fire by the iron sharpness that wafts from the syrupy, bright red nectar. It breaks you away from your absorption of sinking your fangs into Astarion’s flesh, and you snatch it out of his hands and drink with mindless gluttony.

The blood is fresh, hot and rich as the liquid rushes into your mouth. It waterfalls through your body, unknotting the snarls in your muscles, dissolving away the relentless twist of your stomach, and replacing the bloodlust hysteria in your mind with a sultry buzzing.

Astarion’s already holding another goblet, and you throw the empty one to the side and close your eyes as you guzzle. The blood is buttery and decadent. It’s hundreds, nay, thousands of exquisite dishes in a single swallow. It’s like a summertime dawn on your tongue. The wet warmth of it sinks between your thighs, settling with a molten throbbing in your core, and you moan at the pure bliss.

Astarion slips the goblet from your fingers once you’ve finished, and you look at him with half-lidded eyes. You rack your brain for memories of the few times you’ve tasted the blood of thinking creatures. You bit a few in the battles between when he turned you and the Netherbrain, but you cannot remember any of them ever tasting that deliciously arousing.

“That wasn’t animal blood,” you state, almost slurring. You feel drunk, or maybe Astarion is just intoxicating to look at while he mesmerizes you with those red eyes and perfect lips that foretoken pleasure. “Who did you just feed me?”

“No, it was decidedly not animal blood,” he grins as you adjust on his lap and straddle him. You’re not entirely sure what you’re doing in your desirous daze, and you trace the perfect bow of his lips as he speaks. “It was my blood.”

“You are delectable,” you giggle as your fingers help themselves and start fiddling with the buttons on his chemise. As your muddled mind starts to make sense of what he just said, you’re tripped up. You stare at him with a slack jaw and round eyes.

“The look on your face is priceless, darling,” he giggles and glances down at your roving hands as they push open his shirt and trace the defined muscles. Astarion’s fingers trace down your neck, sending shivers down your spine and making you squirm on his lap in wanton desperation for even the most minuscule friction to sate the ache, “I told you that you would taste me, and I you. It will not make you a True Vampire, though, if that’s what you’re wondering.”

Right now, you could not care less about being a True Vampire. There is very little on your mind except how his skin feels on your fingers and how extraordinary he would feel stretching you.

You bury your face in the crook of his neck, inhaling his scent deeply, placing slow kisses up the column. His fingers curl into the silk nightdress he must have changed you into at some point as he groans.

“Whatever are you doing?” He mutters near your ear, pressing his cheek to yours.

“I want you,” you sigh as you curl your fingers into his hair.

“You just attacked me,” he swallows.

“Then, let me apologize,” you grind against his hardening length in a way that makes you both gasp.

“You’ve been asleep for a week,” he mumbles, even as his arms wrap around you, tugging you close. “You have no idea how close you were to dying. Truly dying.”

You should probably be concerned with how long he kept you asleep since your time is limited, but you don’t care. You can’t care. You’ve never been quite so high on blood, on him. He is the light, darkness and blood that runs through your veins, and good Gods, you will give him everything.

“So, wake me up,” you purr as you push his shirt over his shoulders and run the flat of your tongue up his neck, relishing the salt of his skin. “Touch me like only you can. Love me like only you do. Help me feel alive, Astarion.”

Astarion pulls you back, cradling your face with this thumb pressed gently under your chin, drawing your eyes to his, and you stare at him through narrow, seductively hooded eyes like a love-sick pup. He traces your lips with his thumb, and you catch it in your mouth and suck.

“Hells,” he rasps darkly with a sharp inhalation.

You feel the offering call of the bond, and you don’t hesitate to throw it open. That beautifully overwhelming frisson shatters through you as Astarion’s lips catch yours in an eager, bordering on frantic kiss. He snakes his hand into your hair, holding you firmly against his vehement embrace. His tongue darts into your mouth, and a guttural groan thunders in his chest. His kiss is unusually clumsy, lacking the artistry and mastery he typically possesses, and your teeth click together with your greed for each other. You roll your hips, sinking your clit against his length, and your head falls back as white-hot sparks of want rupture behind your eyelids.

As far as you’re concerned, he is the definition of desire. His lips, his hands, and his taste are the only things that can bring you back to life from this deathless death, and you’re sure that you could never get close enough to him. Even with every curve of your body pressed into every contour of his, it still wouldn’t be enough. Nothing is sweeter than the serene sin of the kisses his lips press against your throat.

You peel off your nightdress, and your fingers tug at the opening of his breeches, graceless in your wild hunger to be filled, to be taken, to be his. Astarion quirks his hips up and pulls them down his hips, freeing his cock. The head glistens with evidence of his arousal. With no warning or hesitation, you sink his full length into you. The heavenly stretch makes you cry out and dig your fingers into his chest.

“Fuck,” he breathes, heavy, ragged and uneven. The pads of his fingers find your swollen flesh, sweeping and circling, and you get lost in the divine stimulation.

You set a slow, teasing pace, rising and sinking back down onto him as you delight in feeling the ridges of his head with every languid pump. Astarion pants as he lets out breathy moans. He brings a hand to your hip, trying to urge you to move quicker.

“Good Gods,” he whimpers, his gaze glossed with desire. “Have mercy.”

You are starving for pleasure, famished, and you will take it how you want it. With a warning growl, you grasp his wrist and pin it above his head to the wall. Astarion grins at your dominance and doesn’t fight it. He murmurs something unintelligible as you plunge onto his cock, and stares reverentially through thick lashes, drinking you in as you forfeit all rational thought.

Time runs away with you. You could have been riding him for hours or seconds, but eventually, your savouring pace turns reckless and erratic. Astarion bucks his hips in time to meet yours as the sound of smacking flesh, wanton cries and panting is all that fills your ears and head.

Astarion’s fingers tremble and quake against your sensitive bud, his skin sheens with sweat and his breath hitches. When you finally unpin his wrist, he clutches your hips and guides you to continue the tempo that is driving you perilously close to the edge.

His breath starts to come faster, panting hot and crude, fanning across your sweat-veiled skin. Scarlet eyes devour you as you chase your release in his lap. He penetrates you - Harder. Deeper. Animalistic.

“Oh shit—” His eyes snap open wide, almost in a look of blissful confusion. In your rapture, you barely notice the way his lips move, but you hear nothing but white noise. “I’m going to— Gods. I think I’m going to—“

A shuddering gasp escapes his lips, his body suddenly tensing beneath you. The look of ecstasy that washes over his face is enough to hurl you over the precipice, and you cry out with him. Between your walls clutching and spasming, you feel his cock twitching and pulsing, flooding you with his seed. His arms wrap around you, and you cling to him with a grip that would surely bruise. He crushes you against him as you’re both overwhelmed with pleasure so pure you think maybe it would have killed you were you not already dead.

As the intoxication of your climax fades, you sag into him, pressing your forehead against his neck. You close your eyes, breathing in the fragrance of his sweat, and focus on the rise and fall of his chest. It would be nice to stay in this darkness, snug and safe and home in his embrace, with the bond open so you can remain one pale star against the dusk of reality.

And then you remember the white noise from the moving lips of Shadowheart, Gale, Mizora, and him … You pull back abruptly, breaking out of Astarion’s arms and staring at him, tears teeming in your eyes. Astarion’s confusion is evident on his face and through the connection.

“What’s wrong?” He asks. You can feel him trying to figure it out in his head. It’s such an odd sensation, almost like your emotions are being poked and prodded. “What did I do?”

“Say my name,” you whimper, focusing on his lips.

“What?” His eyes bounce around as his brows pull down.

“My name,” you repeat with a quivering lip. “Say it.”

Astarion’s lips move, and… nothing. All you can hear is the buzzing, fizzing hiss of white noise coming from his mouth.

“Again.”

“I don’t understand —“ He yet again opens and closes his mouth with only a droning hum. Your fingers clamber against his lips, pushing his mouth open as if you might be able to grasp the word as it leaves his tongue. “Whatever is the matter?”

He doesn’t even know, you realize. He has no idea that he’s stolen your name just as he stole your life. You find some comfort in knowing that it wasn’t this version of him that did it, at least. You stare off dejected as everything rushes back to you like a slap across the cheek.

Mizora. The Hells. Mephistopheles. The Contract. The ticking clock. Your name.

“My love,” Astarion’s fingers curl into your hair, and he ushers your eyes to his. “Did I harm you? Please. Tell me what’s troubling you."

“I don’t remember my name,” the tears spill out of your eyes. “You stole it from me.”

Big thank you for everyone who takes the time to read/reblog/comment, and all the other magnificent things. As always, I hope you enjoy this, darlings!

AO3 [Crossposted]

Master List of Chapters: Fangs and Fractured Hearts

If you're interested I write another fic with Spawn Astarion x Tav called - Shadows of the Past

Small Notes:

So... does she tell him what Mizora revealed?

#ascended astarion #bg3 #astarion fanfic #astarion x you #astarion #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 astarion #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion smut #fangs and fractured hearts

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heartsforvin · 1 month

Text

WE CAN’T BE FRIENDS

we can’t be friends (wait for your love) - ariana grande

new layout for fics !! hope you like it (:

for the anon who asked for more angst, here you go ml , hope you enjoy !! <33

pairing; vinnie hacker x fem!reader

warnings; angst, use of pet names, cussing, break up, cheating, arguing, mentions of excessive alcohol use, mentions of sex, mentions of virginity (just in case), lmk if i missed anything !

summary; you and vinnie have a nasty break up, vinnie tries to stay friends no matter the hurt, but you don’t think that is possible

you and vinnie have been together since senior year of highschool, both of you in your twenties now.

it was fun for awhile, really fun, but recently you’ve felt the mood shift in your relationship. vinnie’s been distant, and more than usual.

you’re used to him being distant job wise, but he’s been emotionally and physically distant. that’s what scares you.

the two of you live in the same house, yet you feel like it’s just you and hera at times. vinnie comes home late, stays up late, and sleeps in until way past you get home from work.

you want to make this last, but feel the relationship is way beyond repair.

☁︎·̩͙✧

“vinnie can you just listen to me for five minutes?!” you scream as the two of you walk into your shared apartment.

you slam your purse on the counter while vinnie slams the bedroom door, both of you acting like children but you won’t fully admit it.

walking to the couch, you smile when you see hera nestled against the arm. you sit down and gently grab her, placing her in your lap.

“your dad’s being a meanie.” you say to the cat as you scratch behind her ear.

hera purrs as you give her the love she’s been wanting all day, you smile as she nuzzles her head against you.

meanwhile, vinnie’s in his room, headset on as he blows off some steam streaming. it’s the one thing he can do right now that won’t piss him off.

well, besides all the comments asking where you were. his fans know the two of you live together, so saying you’re at ‘home’ would mean at his place.

right now he really wishes you didn’t live with him. you’re not even in the room yet he feels like you’re breathing down his neck.

constantly asking how he is, what he was doing out so late, why he’s sleeping in so late again.

it was like a never ending cycle, and he didn’t know what to do. he’s been drinking way more than usual, partly the reason why he’s asleep most of the day, but he’s not telling you that.

what you also don’t know is that, about two weeks ago he had stepped into a bar to get away from you and the constant bickering, but soon managed to fuck everything up.

vinnie loves you, he has since senior year of high school. he knew the relationship wouldn’t last forever, but he just further proved that weeks ago.

he didn’t mean for it to happen, he was way too drunk and way too out of it. he knows that is no excuse, but it’s the truth.

vinnie knows how much you love him, and that sometimes it hurts you because of how much you do. that’s why he hates that he has to tell you this.

it wasn’t just one mere little kiss, it was more than that, and that’s why he’s so scared to tell you.

vinnie was the first person you allowed to see you, and he knew that meant a lot to you. he knows that once you know that he did more than just kiss another woman, it’s going to completely ruin you.

“guys i’m hoppin’ off for the night, ill be back in a few days.” vinnie told his chat before turning off the stream for the night.

he realized he needed to tell you the truth on why he’s been so distant in all aspects.

carefully opening his bedroom door, he sees you curled up on the couch with hera. he smiles to himself, this sight definitely not helping the screaming match that’s about to occur.

he almost doesn’t want to wake you, knowing you need the sleep since you barely get it nowadays.

he can’t, though. you two need to talk this out, whether it’s actually talking or arguing, it needs to be done.

“baby, hey,” vinnie can’t help but use the infamous pet name as he shakes you awake softly. “wake up.”

you stir awake, rubbing your eyes as you look up at your boyfriend. “ hey, you.” you say sheepishly.

it was almost as if you didn’t yell at him an hour ago, for what you cannot remember.

hera wakes up too and walks on the arm of the couch and nuzzles her head on her dad’s tattooed hand.

vinnie picks her up and cradles her in his arms as if she’s an actual baby. after a few minutes he sets her on the ground and he sits beside you.

“we need to talk.”

☁︎·̩͙✧

“you..what..?” you’re baffled at what your boyfriend just explained to you.

you can’t help but let out a weak laugh on instinct. vinnie looks at you, a puzzled expression clearly written all over his face.

you stand up, pacing in a circle as you try to take in what vinnie said. you can’t focus, you can’t think, absolutely nothing is going on in your head.

“so, you’re telling me that the reason you’ve been so distant in both ways — emotionally and physically — is because you’ve been fuckin’ someone else?!”

that is definitely not the news you thought it would’ve been. you thought it would’ve been like he said — him out at a club for most of the day and getting too drunk to comprehend anything. definitely not cheating.

“bab-no!” you cut him off with a loud yell, almost scaring yourself. “you do not get to ‘baby’ me when you know how important losing my virginity meant to me! you were the first guy to show me true, genuine, unconditional love, and you decide to just throw it away?”

tears began to flood your vision, nothing made sense. were all those years just nothing to him? you thought you’d marry him, mother his children, apparently he didn’t think that far ahead.

vinnie sighs as he holds his head in his hands. “i know i fucked up.” you hear him mumble.

you scoff, crossing your arms over your chest. “you did more than fucked up, vinnie.” he looks up at you as you practically stare daggers into his eyes.

he can feel your hurt, he understands. this happened to him years ago with past relationships, yet he doesn’t know why he did it.

vinnie stands and walks to you. “sorry can’t fix this, i know. please just hear me out.”

you roll your eyes. you don’t want to hear it. how can he justify sleeping with someone else while with you.

“i don’t wanna fuckin’ hear it, vinnie,” you sigh. you go to the kitchen counter and grab your purse.

“sweetheart, dont go, come on.” vinnie grabs your purse from your hold. “i don’t wanna fight-“

“well too late because we’re past that. should’ve thought of that before you cheated.”

the urge to break down in tears is so strong, and you almost did. you don’t want to show him your hurt, even if he can see it already.

you grab your purse from vinnie and put it back on the counter. vinnie smiles at you, glad you’re not leaving, but you just give him a glare as you walk by.

“can you please let me explain?” vinnie asks as the two of you sit on the couch, hera following and sitting on your lap.

sighing heavily, you nod your head, letting him know that he can explain to you.

“we’ve been fighting nonstop for weeks, i needed to relive the stress. one drink lead to two, two lead to three and before i could think i’m with this girl and we’re..”

you sob quietly into your palm at the thought of vinnie with someone else. vinnie looks at you sympathetically, hurting all over at the fact he just broke your trust.

“why couldn’t you just come to me? you didn’t need to shut me out. vinnie, we haven’t done anything in weeks, and this is why?”

you’re so confused. you don’t know what’s going on in his head but you know he needs help.

“i was scared, scared of this exact reaction. i had no doubt you were going to flip out like that, but i just didn’t want to lose you.”

except now he knows he’s about to. maybe if it was just an innocent kiss the two of you could’ve talked it out and made up. it was way more than that, though.

you stay silent for a long time and that makes his anxiety skyrocket, wondering what you’re thinking.

you’re thinking that the man you quite literally gave yourself to for the past few years just completely shattered your heart and betrayed your trust.

“we can work— no, vinnie, we can’t work this out!” you shout at him as tears escape your eyes.

all he wants to do is hug and comfort you. vinnie absolutely hates seeing you upset, and seeing as you’re upset because of him is a different kind of hurt.

you scoff, wondering how he could even think that the two of you can try to mend this problem.

“i’ve loved you since i was eighteen and we’re almost twenty-three. do you know how much that hurts me?” your voice cracks as you speak, making vinnie’s heart ache.

he sighs, obviously understanding. “it hurts me just as much as you, sweetheart.” there it is, the pet name. you don’t have it in you to tell him it hurts way more when he uses them.

you’re silent for a moment and that only makes vinnie’s anxiety skyrocket. he doesn’t know what you’re thinking, other than that you can no longer trust him.

“i need a minute.” you say as you wipe your tear stained cheeks.

you walk and grab your purse off the counter, vinnie watching as you do. he doesn’t stop you though, he knows you need space.

hours passed and you finally returned back to the apartment. vinnie gives you a weak smile when he sees you enter the room. you reciprocate, putting your head down after.

you walk to the couch and pet hera who is sleeping. you smile at the cat, realizing just how much you’ll miss her.

“i know this can’t be fixed,” you breathe in heavily when you hear him speak for the first time in hours. “but could we still be friends?”

you almost want to bust out laughing at his question. he hurt you this bad and he still wants to remain friends?

“i don’t think that’s a good idea.” you say truthfully.

vinnie understands completely, he thought he could at least try to ask.

the room falls silent for a few minutes before vinnie speaks. “so this is it?” he asks.

you nod your head with a small smile. “i have a friend i can stay with until i find my own place, it won’t be long.” you tell him.

he nods and soon the two of you head into his room so you can start packing up your things.

even though the two of you can’t be friends, he can still pretend, right?

we can’t be friends, but i’d like to just pretend.

HEYYYYY IM BACK !!! (def gonna leave for another week) just kidding i won’t 🥲

i hope you guys liked this !!! i need to write more angst so send in requests if you have any !! i love seeing what you guys come up w for fics !!!

tags; @anqeliclust , @cosmicanakin , @forevergirlposts , @leqonsluv3r , @bernelflo , @visualbutterflysworld , @st4rswrld , @louloulemons-blog , @lovingsturniolo , @hallecarey1 , @supabhad , @kayleiggh , @violet0182 , @kriissy4gov , @slvthrs , @laylasbunbunny

#vhackerr #vincent hacker #vinniehacker #vvhacker #vinnie hacker smut #vinniehackerfanfic #vinnie hacker blurb #vinnie hacker fluff #vinnie hacker imagines #vinnie hacker headcanon #vinnie x y/n #vinnie x reader

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inbarfink · 9 months

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The thing about the difference in Red Guy’s behavior between ‘Transport’ and ‘Electricity’...

That in the former episode he was so agitated by the Format of their lives and so eager to get out-

and in the latter he was so deeply uncomfortable by Yellow breaking away and questioning the Format that he felt actually Relieved when a new teacher came in and brought everything ‘back to normal’

Is so interesting and tragic no matter how you look at it.

Because it’s possible that it’s an indication that it is indeed not the same Red Guy but a ‘backup’.

That the trio we’ve followed back in ‘Transport’ is still starving and shivering in that post-apocalyptic junkyard and that the trio from ‘Electricity’ are more recent replacement - so this Red Guy might not be as used to exercising his free will or just not as sick and tired of the Format as the previous one.

Or maybe it is the ‘same’ Red Guy, or at least a backup that retains all the memories of the previous one, and he’s just been broken. After his attempt to escape backfired horribly and then snapped back to the house as if it never happened he’s just been broken. He’s more willing to go along with the Teachers and more weary of others trying to break from the Format because he thinks that he knows what happens when you do.

With both of these options, there’s also the added dimension that might’ve been Lesley’s plan all along? Why send an ill, clearly-past-his-prime Transport vehicle just as one of the puppets is getting restless and wants to get out?

So they can get out, and she can either break Red Guy’s dreams of escape or just have an excuse to get rid of him and replace them all with ‘fresh copies’.

It seems like Yellow’s ‘ascension’ in ‘Electricity’ has happened many times before, but it was never enough to break the cycle - Yellow always ended up losing his batteries and Forgetting before he could make any progress. And like in the episode we saw, it was probably always because of Red and Duck.

Maybe Lesley suspected that having Red Guy as he was in ‘Transport’ - all agitated and rebellious - with a fully-charged Yellow Guy would be enough to break that cycle? That if Yellow had Red to actually back him up, things might’ve gone differently? So had to go to Certain Measures to make sure that’s not the kind of Red Guy that’s in the house when Electracey comes to visit?

On the other hand, the explanation might be simply that there is no real ‘inconsistency’ in his behavior. Maybe Red Guy would’ve acted the same if Yellow Guy would’ve suddenly gotten Fully-Charged before things went really bad in ‘Transport’.

The truth might just be that as much as Red Guy feels miserable and tormented by the Format - these feelings might just not triumph his need to be smarter than Yellow Guy.

That he’s just this emotionally committed to making fun of Yellow Guy for being stupid, that he might want to break free himself of the confines of the format but that doesn’t necessarily mean he believes his own friends should break away from the boxes he created for them in his mind, that he’s just straight-up that unnerved by the idea of a Smart Yellow Guy - that he accidentally shot his own goals in the foot rather than confront the idea Yellow Guy could be a person deserving of actual respect.

And in a way, that simple mundane explanation is the darkest one. The idea that Red Guy just wants to bully his friend that much that it overrides his own desires for freedom.

That he was so busy being disturbed by Yellow Guy not doing what Red thought he’s ‘supposed to do’ that he didn’t notice or care that Yellow was putting into words much of what Red was already feeling.

That Red has unwittingly allowed a chance at actual freedom slip between his fingers just because he doesn’t respect Yellow Guy.

And he has probably done so many, many times already.

#don't hug me i'm scared #dont hug me im scared #don't hug me #i'm scared #dhmis #dhmis tv series #dhmis tv show #dhmis theory #dhmis analysis #red guy #red guy dhmis #red guy dont hug me im scared #dhmis yellow guy #yellow guy don't hug me i'm scared #yellow guy dhmis #yellow guy

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ianales · 3 months

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illicit affairs (Cheater!Lo’ak x Omatikayan! Reader)

a/n: hope you guys enjoy this! there might be a part 3? hopefully you guys would like this mini series?

after outing Lo’ak as a cheater, things happened…

disclaimer: maybe hinting towards as Neteyam x reader?? tell me what you guys think!

ps. gif is supposed to be like neteyam’s reaction to lo’ak cheating LOL

sorry for a late post, life has been hectic lately :(

part 1 ——— part 2

“L-Lo’ak is this true?” Tsireya questioned.

“No- no i don’t know what she’s talking about”- He responds, stuttering. He turns to look at his brother, Neteyam, he was pissed.

Neteyam walked over to (name) and gave her a side hug and greeted (name)

“I told you it wasn’t a good idea Lo’ak! you never listen”

“Lo’ak.. its true…?” Tsireya had this look in her eyes, it was difficult to read, like she was heartbroken, but there was more. there was disappointment.

she sat in her tent, fidgeting with the promise bracelets they shared, she looks back in her own memories, come to think of it, his own wrist seemed to miss one, he threw it away, she took the bracelet off her own wrist, throwing it towards the tent’s opening.

her eyes traveled as a blue hand catching the bracelet. Neteyam.. she recognised almost immediately at the arm band he wore

“this is your bracelet, tìyawn…” love

“did you know?” she asked, ignoring the nickname he used, which he gave her when they were teenagers.

“i knew, everyone knew… everyone disapproved.. we have no way of communicating, tìyawn.. i couldn’t tell you if i wanted to…” he says, walking in the tent and sitting next to her.

“i know… i shouldn’t blame you… its all his fault that”-

“skxwang?” he chuckles light heartedly

“yeah… skxwang..” she gives the same energy back, she leans her head on Neteyam’s shoulder, “why would he do this, Teyam? is it me? am i not talented enough? am i not pretty enough?”

“thats nonsense tìyawn.. you’re the best na’vi there is…”

before she got to respond, a gentle voice called out from outside the tent. “hìtxoa…? (excuse me) u-um.. its Tsireya.. i know you probably wouldn’t want me to talk to you but i just wanna talk and”-

she looks up from Neteyam’s shoulder, “n-no um… you can come in… you seemed just as shocked as me..”

Tsireya walks in, a gentle smile on her face, and a basket of fruits “im… im so sorry.. i had no idea he was already mated with another.. he told me there was no one.. and the others failed to inform me…”

She accepts the fruit bowl and smiles painfully at Tsireya, “its…. its okay… i mean it hurts.. but its not your fault… it’s Lo’ak’s really… for being unfaithful.. and for lying to you…”

“Lo’ak told us.. that he.. he already told you about (name)….” Neteyam spoke up.

“N-no there was nothing.. he told me he was the only one he loved and everything..”

(Name) felt more pain, holding Neteyam’s hand for support, which he gladly allowed.

“y-yeah… he tends to say.. that type of stuff.. thanks for the fruits by the way…” she said to Tseriya.

“no problem… i hope theres no bad blood between us..”

“oh god no! no.. you were hurt too.. betrayed…”

“yeah… i.. i hope to talk this out with him… hopefully.. i… i don’t know why im talking about this with you..”

“its alright…. im… i just need some time”

the rest of the day Neteyam was comforting (name) in every way possible, he brought her out to make a new bracelet, a matching one with him, he brought her to go hunting with him, which she doesn’t normally do but cheered him on once he caught something, now they sat by a stream, their feet dipped in the ankle length water.

“you don’t deserve him tìyawn….” he spoke from the silence. “you need someone who will appreciate you.. who will…. be there for you when you need them.. who will support you and love you…someone like…”

“you?” she said sarcastically.

“no.. not me.. i guess..” he chuckled awkwardly. “i mean only if you”-

“you’re like a bother to me Neteyam.. a very supportive brother… thank you..”

“yeah… im glad that you see me.. as a brother.. we should head back now tìyawn..”

she nods taking his hand in hers and head back to camp, little did they know, another navigator stood in the shadows, jealous eyes on them.

@ok-boke @myh3artttt @idcalol @cherrybomb5000 @tealtadpole566 @random-3455 @slayingqueenchal @hgccs-blog @emery-333 @papichulo120627 @littlewinchester1 @optimisticsandwichgladiator @r3d0n33 @neteyams-wh0re @satankilledmyghosts @zorosthreesworldstyls

#atwow #atwow fanfiction #atwow neteyam #atwow loak #atwow x reader #loak sully #avatar loak #loak cheats but its okay because we might end up with neteyam #loak cheater #tseriya #atwow x you #literature #james cameron avatar #james cameron please

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mrcspectr · 1 year

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Before when I’d consider the way Steven’s flat was arranged for him, I always assumed it was mostly Marc’s doing. I mean, it’s really the only perspective we see. And I’m sure he had a strong hand in it; the postcards, the fish, the bed. He’d have to be pretty focused on the things Steven would notice were different, or if things were missing day to day. He’d have to make sure that his shadow didn’t fall on the things that he moved or changed, leaving no traces. And god, he’s not perfect at it. He misses things, he forgets. Sometimes his ideas aren’t the best. I mean, look at the key and the phone. Right under Steven’s nose, he was bound to find it eventually.

His influence on their environment, or really, lack thereof, would be practical. Marc would give Steven what he needs to be happy, to be safe. Marc the military man, Marc the minimalist, Marc the older brother, all roles he can never quite shake, coexisting in the only ways he knows how. Loving and well meaning, even as a ghost, forming a haphazard life in what little ways he knows how.

But all that stuff, all those things, pulled together in such a short amount of time. That’s not something easily accomplished alone. And maybe he thinks he did. Maybe he sees the books and trinkets, the vegan food in the fridge, and he has the.. vaguest sense of buying it. It doesn’t feel quite right, the memory looks foggy, or maybe there’s no memory of it at all. A blank spot or a brick wall where the trip to the market should be. But he fills in the blanks, makes excuses. Because who else would it be if not himself, right? Where else could it come from?

Jake Lockley is observant. It’s a skill acquired over long periods of silence, years of watching and waiting, time spent catching the details needed to keep safe, to shield. He could be a talker when he wanted to be, able to lay on the charisma and wheedle out information when necessary. The man could make friends anywhere he went, could charm ice and soften stone. But people like that learn to value the quiet, and all the things you can learn from that empty noise that you’d never hear in all the chatter.

There’s a notebook in his jacket pocket, filled with his chicken scratch. Being vigilant has never done shit for his poor memory, it seems, but writing it down fast and saving it for later seems to do the trick. He’s got a lot of lists: Steven’s groceries, the little vegan market a few blocks from the museum that’s always closed by the time he leaves work. (Jake does remember his disappointed face, every time he’d make the stop and see the lights off in the windows.) Subjects that Steven’s particularly interested in this month, collections of books tailored to each one. Lines run through them when Jake finds a copy in an old used book shop, tucked away into shelves or left in precariously stacked piles on the kitchen table for Steven to find. Names of all the museums in London and descriptions of the stock in their gift shops, so he can correlate miniatures and decorations for the flat with the Topic of The Week.

It seems small sometimes, to him. In the grand scheme of everything he and Marc do, what Marc accomplishes feels more important. Marc protects Steven’s heart from being broken, keeps him away from Khonshu wherever possible, and while he doesn’t always agree with the methods, Jake sees the good intent and leaves it at that, where he can. And he does his part too. He does the dirtier work, the harder tasks. The jobs no one else should have to take. And he does it silently, thanklessly. Jake gives without thought to receiving, doesn’t even try to ask. Probably wouldn’t know how, if given the opportunity. But his shadow is tucked into every corner of that flat just the same, whether Steven and Marc can see it or not.

#c:#mk meta #or a headcanon #sorta #moon knight

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multiplicity-positivity · 1 year

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Dealing with Denial 101

We’ve gotten a few asks about dealing with denial as a system, so we wanted to put together a post that we can reference in the future.

Denial, imposter syndrome, and fear of faking are all incredibly common system experiences. Unfortunately, when dealing with something that is so heavily stigmatized and not well understood among the public, these issues come all to easily. Just because you experience these things does not mean you aren’t a system, however! Here’s some things to remember that may help with dealing with feelings of denial:

1. Every system is unique!

You do no favors for yourself, your system, or others by comparing your experiences to those of other systems. An endogenic system’s experience is going to look entirely different from a system with a dissociative disorder, and even within certain origins there is so much diversity! There is no need to deny your system due to having unique experiences. There’s a lot that brings us together as systems, it’s true, but there’s also so much that sets us apart from each other and makes us different and unique! Take pride in this fact and don’t use it as an excuse to deny your system.

2. Created/spontaneous systems are valid!

If you find yourself wanting to deny your system on grounds of being endogenic, feeling like endogenic systems can’t exist and therefore your system can’t exist, we’d like to reassure you that that couldn’t be farther from the truth! Endogenic systems are and have always been an important part of the plural community. Your experiences as an endo system might be totally different from the experiences of a CDD system, but that’s okay! And it doesn’t mean that either of you are inherently faking your experience with plurality.

3. Comorbidities can (and do) happen!

It is possible to be a system (whether disordered or nondisordered) and deal with a myriad of mental illnesses. You can be a system and still have personality disorders, anxiety disorders, developmental disorders or any other sort of mental disorder. The only exception to this would be, you probably can’t have DID and OSDD at the same time. If you’re wondering about comorbidities and your likelihood of experiencing more than one disorder, please consult a mental health professional! Having comorbidities is not an indication of faking plurality and shouldn’t be a reason for you to deny your plural experience.

4. Communication is often difficult!

For many systems, communication does not come easily and is something that needs to be practiced regularly in order to improve over time. Some systems never reach a place of excellent communication, and that’s okay! It’s also perfectly normal to have a system that goes through communicative cycles, with periods of lots of activity followed by periods of silence. Just because you aren’t hearing from your headmates multiple times every day doesn’t mean that you’re not really a system!

5. Introjects are normal!

It’s okay to have tons of introjects in your system, or even for your system to be made up entirely out of introjects! It’s fine to have fictives, factives, octives, faitives, fuzztives, and everything in between. Yes, you can still be a system with a bunch of anime or smp headmates! Yes, you can still be a system of your introjects are weird, “cringe,” canon-compliant, canon-divergent, factives of celebrities, fictives from popular sources, or anything else! None of these things should cause you to deny your system - lots of other systems are in similar situations!

6. Some members are more prone to denial!

Even in diagnosed CDD systems, sometimes hosts, persecutors, or other members dig their feet in and refuse to acknowledge the system’s existence. We know this definitely happened in our system! Just because a particular member often tries to deny the system, doesn’t mean that you’re faking at all! For some members, the realization that they’re a part of a system can be scary, frustrating, and anxiety-inducing. Some may choose to deny that the system exists in order to protect themselves, or to preserve their way of life. A bit of kindness, patience, and persistence can go a long way in getting these members to accept the reality of your multiplicity!

7. A syscovery may happen at any time!

You don’t need a therapist or specialist to confirm that you’re plural. You don’t need outside validation in order for your system to exist. You may discover your system at a very young age, or well into adulthood. Both of these are perfectly fine times to learn about your plurality - there’s no magic age you must be before you can learn about your system! If your system deals with heavy denial or dissociative barriers, it may take multiple syscoveries in order for the realization to stick. This is nothing to worry about and definitely not proof that you’re faking your plurality!

8. Fakers don’t usually stress about whether or not they’re faking!

Faking an illness is a conscious effort that takes time, knowledge, and dedication. Fakers also don’t worry too much about whether or not they’re faking - for the most part, they absolutely know that they are! If you’re worried that you’ve been faking your plurality all along, honestly chances are slim that you’re actually faking. Try to stay calm and patient, and allow your headmates to speak for themselves on whether or not they think you’re faking your plurality!

9. It’s okay to question!

It’s okay to spend a long time wondering whether or not you’re actually plural. It’s okay to experiment with labels and try some out before you’ve figured out the origins of your system. It’s okay (and recommended, and healthy!) for you to question whether or not you have a trauma history or childhood memory gaps, and to rule out trauma as a cause for your plurality first. It’s okay to have a “pillowgenic” label one week and a “stressgenic” label the next. Questioning is a big part of self-discovery - the mere act of questioning your plurality doesn’t mean that you’re not actually plural by any means. Take your time with figuring out who you are!

10. It’s okay to be wrong!

There’s so much more we’d like to add here, but the last thing we’ll say is it is absolutely fine to be wrong about your origins, headmate count, or your plurality overall! You are not hurting anyone by exploring the concept of plurality, wondering if multiplicity affects you, and ultimately deciding you’re a singlet. It’s also perfectly fine to be wrong about your origins or to discover you’re traumagenic later in life. Deciding you’re endogenic after discovering childhood trauma may not be a wise thing to do, but other than that, it’s okay to be wrong about your experience and the language you use to describe it!

Sorry for the long post! Hopefully some of these affirmations will be reassuring for struggling systems out there. Remember that we’re in your corner rooting for you regardless of your origins or whether or not you experience denial! Please know we’ll always believe you, and we hope that one day you’ll be able to believe in yourself and your system!

(Image ID:) A pale orange userbox with a cluster of multicolored flowers for the userbox image. The border and text are both dark orange, and the text reads “all plurals can interact with this post!” (End ID.)

#multiplicity #pluralgang #plurality #actuallyplural #system positivity #plural positivity #plural pride #system pride #denial #system denial #faking #self fakeclaiming #long post

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anystalker707 · 1 year

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Boom!

Pairing: Killer x [gender neutral] Reader Words: ~ 1 300 Summary: It literally goes like “says he likes crazy girls, but hates when i act crazy" Tags: Fluffy and funny / Thank god for big men / lots of reader sitting on his lap

Requested by anon "Hey could you do a fluff/crack op killer x female reader who has a devil fruit (...)"

MASTERLIST

• Killer found out you had eaten the Boom Boom Fruit the worst way possible—ended up scaring you in a way you almost blew everything up by accident and didn’t know how to react with part of his mask now black and part of his hair spiked up by the explosion

• Basically, you’re able to blow anything you touch, including air, and your humor/reactions are very much a lot like your ability, so he learned to be careful. About everything, for real, because he didn’t like the idea of you blowing up anyone that did something inconvenient, even more with Kid around

• Because you’re able to blow things up just when you touch them, it sparked your interest in making bombs and, with a limited workspace, you end up requesting Kid to use his workshop for a little. The answer is ‘no’, unnecessarily accompanied by a “you’re not even skilled enough to need it”, which is followed by... quite interesting events

• You are with Killer on the deck, sitting on his lap and mumbling about your day while you play with his hair when there’s a loud sound of an explosion—he tenses up and starts looking around, clicking his tongue when he notices you’re still calm. You can feel his glare, despite the mask, once you hear Kid shout your name, followed by countless curses and crashes

• “(Y/n)...” “It was an accident!” “No excuses!”

• Actually, there are excuses. While he will be willing to do anything so Kid will solve things peacefully, he just can’t do the same with you, even more when you’re pouting and pressing soft kisses to his neck, in a way he will always be trying not to get killed by Kid to protect you from him

• Difficult task, in reality, because you don’t do the littlest bit of effort not to get in fights and neither does Kid, and it’s even harder with things flying around or being blown up at random

• Sometimes, you’re watching someone you don’t like talk and just tell him very quietly “I’m going to blow them up at any moment, no joke.” He does think it was a joke, but then sees you next to them with your hands in stance for an attack, so he quickly runs over to throw you on his shoulder because the crew doesn’t need more enemies—it was already hard enough to get an alliance with Basil and Scratchmen with Kid picking up a fight with them before it’d even been set

• Then, having the annoying Scratchmen around causes a lot of problems, not just because it takes a while for Kid to control himself so the alliance can work, but because sometimes you seem annoyed by his sheer existence. Expect Killer to have you on his lap or at least hold you close the whole time

• He’s actually very protective <3

• Like. No one should mess with you. People will be angry and want to kill you after you pissed them off by blowing things up just because you seemed fit then end up needing to face Killer <3 Imagine big man standing in front of you protectively with those big arms crossed. Thank hell.

• Scratchmen decides he’s done with you and wants to at least teach you a lesson, but can’t do anything because you got Killer. You’re there sitting there on Killer’s lap like you own the world <3

“Stop it at once!” Scratchmen clicked his tongue, still very defensive.

“No, yeah, of course!” You sighed as you threw your hands in the air sort of defensively. “We can’t be fighting the whole time if we’re gonna be hidden here and have an alliance, man!”

He raised an eyebrow, finally cracking a crooked smile as he scoffed with humor. “Finally you’re being reasonable!”

Yeah, of course. A grin took over your lips. “A hug to seal peace?”

Scratchmen raised an eyebrow but shrugged, stepping closer. The grin was still there when you walked away from him after a hug, though it had a different tone as you snickered; your slow walk turned into running, which he only understood when he felt something go off on his back with a deafening noise and the immense burning resulting from it.

“You little—”

Scratchmen couldn’t even finish it, more worried about chasing you, but you were faster and on Killer’s lap before he could do anything—certain embarrassment took over him at how loud his steps were in the silent room in which the three sat at the table quietly talking; Kid, Killer and Basil, and now, you were with them. You leaned against Killer as if nothing had happened, placing one of his hands over your lap and wrapping his arm around you. Besides the fact Scratchmen didn’t want to face Killer’s wrath, he also knew better than to also awaken Kid’s since you were the only one who could just walk in while he was busy without being murdered.

“You’re being bad...” Killer mumbled quietly enough just for you to hear.

“Shush.” You patted his chest, adjusting yourself on his lap.

• He will complain about you getting into problems, but he can’t !! He spoils you all the time, and once he even commented about loving it when you go crazy in fights, blowing everything up, how hot you look, there’s no reason to complain when you do it now !! Doesn’t he like the crazy ones ? Cool, now deal with it <3

The crew had stopped at this island to finish business, but what you hadn’t predicted was that the Marine happened to be there at the same time, same moment. Were they following your steps? Was it a trap? Well, it didn’t matter now—you didn’t even know where the hell Killer, Kid or Heat were, each of you running to a different direction at the moment chaos ensued. You tried your best to outrun them at least a little, at least so you could lose them and return to the ship.

“Fuck,” you groaned already out of breath. The fact you barely knew the city didn’t help at all, having you run into a lot of dead-end alleys or blow a lot of stuff to give yourself some extra seconds to think. At some point, you thought you lost them. Not really. You took a turn, only to find a small group of Marines.

“Stop right there!” One of them said; along with his, other 5 guns were pointed at you. You threw your hands in the air, stopping on your tracks immediately. “You better surrender, things will be worse if you struggle!”

“No, fine, fine!” You dropped to your knees, moving slowly; grins already decorated their faces, not even faltering as they should when you smirked because all it took was a touch on the ground for their victorious faces to immediately turn into defeated ones before you could jump over the debris and run away giggling. “See you, losers—” You interrupted yourself when you bumped into something with force enough to fall to the ground, about to slam your hand against the ground when the weight on your chest made you weaker than you should. The familian effects of the sea prism made a string of curses escape your lips, all you could do was to fall limp to the floor. Worst part is that you didn’t see anyone else from the crew around.

“It’s over!” The Marine held their spear to your chest, grinning wide with a cigar hanging from their mouth. Motherfucker. “You—” They were sent flying against a wall, shattering it, by something you couldn’t see; there was just a blur. You didn’t even have time to question what was going on before you were lifted off the ground—Killer held you in his arms while running away from the Marines.

“Better be careful, love,” he said a little breathless. A lot of destruction covered the way he went, hence he had to jump over some debris more than a couple of times, but there weren’t a lot of Marines anymore.

“Nah,” you sighed, resting your head against his chest. “Not while you’re around.”

.𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟.

#one piece #killer #x reader #x male reader #x female reader #gender neutral #one piece x reader #fan fic #fan fiction #monkey d luffy #roronoa zoro #vinsmoke sanji #eustass kid #eustass captain kid #kid pirates #killer x reader

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headspace-hotel · 2 years

Note

Part of the reason why nonviolent protest is preferred over violence is PR: aggression gives the government a moral excuse to commit violence, whereas being nonviolent lets you claim moral high ground. It doesn’t help that a lot of the left-wingers who prefer violence to non-violence tend to be sex pests, because physical and sexual violence are intertwined.

I don't know what a "sex pest" is and i'm very reluctant to google it, but the whole way that statement is worded is weird. Are you implying that someone who condones violent political protest is more likely to be some kind of pervert or something?

Anyway, my one and only statement on the subject is that generally, violence has bad consequences and it gets innocent people hurt and killed and it can provoke extreme retaliation, but anyone saying that it doesn't "work" is full of shit. Violence Does Stuff—not only the stuff you want, but it Works.

But set aside whether or not it "works." Violence is something that always is and should be a possibility. What they say about dogs is that you should never, never, never punish a dog for growling, because a dog that growls is telling you that you're approaching the danger zone and giving you a chance to back off. Wolves in the wild seldom ever fight each other, because they have a system of escalating warnings they give other wolves before they resort to actual violence.

I, in my interpersonal relationships, have a threshold where I would bite another person. That threshold is "if I am being physically assaulted." I have a threshold where I would yell at someone. I have a threshold where I would be a cold-hearted bitch and be mean and stand my ground with someone. Recently I got into a very bad relationship and realized that I needed to work on being a dog that growls. I was so determined to be nice and to not be a bitch that I let someone basically ruin my whole life at the time.

Any relationship where a balance of power is being negotiated has this, or it should have this. The relationship between people and their government is the same.

Here's how peaceful protest works:

A wolf might not ever have to bite you, because it's a wolf.

This doesn't mean that a growl is a polite request. Wild animals don't appeal to the moral high grounds of other animals. A growl is giving you a chance to keep things peaceful. A growl is peaceful, but it is a reminder and a warning that you are fucking with a wolf.

In large numbers, there is power. When people assemble in large numbers and protest, however peacefully, this is a reminder to the Powers That Be that You Are Fucking With A Wolf.

But listen. Practically everything in nature does threat displays. A house cat fighting a fucking grizzly bear will puff up and hiss and growl, and a house cat CAN tear out that grizzly bear's eyeballs even if its chances of winning a fight are zero. It doesn't matter if you're a wolf or not, if you're cornered, all bets are off as to what you might do.

History teaches us that violence, with great regularity, happens. It happens. And I don't think it's ever "good," and we can try to reduce it, but if you make any creature feel desperate enough, scared enough, trapped enough, that creature will hurt you.

(The exceptions are dead.)

And I don't want civil unrest and violence. I know innocent people are going to get hurt and killed because that always happens. But in the USA we're reaching the point where our government has been ignoring the growls for a long time. They're suppressing voters and rolling back our rights. They're pushing and pushing and pushing how much they can get away with taking away from us. And people are suffering. And they're dying. And we're afraid.

Every great empire of the past was running around putting down rebellion after rebellion every minute of its existence like playing whack-a-mole. Sure, the Romans held together a surprisingly long time, but their preferred method of dealing with political dissent was nailing people to wooden crosses along roadsides and leaving them to die in agony over days.

And all of those empires held together at all because they usually allowed religious and cultural diversity and let local leaders mostly do their own thing. You can't oppress people so hard that they won't turn on you. You can't. People turn on their oppressors when they've had enough. If someone is starving, they will do anything to get food. If someone's child is being threatened, they will do anything to protect their child. If someone is truly desperate, they're beyond fearing your power.

So I don't believe in having arguments about whether violence is "right" or "wrong" because at no point in history has this mattered. If the Powers That Be ignore peaceful protest, people don't go "Aw, shucks" and go home. They start burning buildings, destroying property and rioting.

That's an open threat display. That's a dog snapping at air or a snake striking for show before the real venom comes out. You should be HAPPY they do that, because they could have just bitten you for real. Threat displays like this are a way of avoiding worse violence. Remember this. Understand it.

Someone destroying property over real, living, breathing humans being killed is giving their oppressors a chance to listen that is 100% undeserved. Remember this. Understand it.

The world is threatened by an existential fear for the future, and the government doesn't have very long before that becomes more powerful than the fear of what a government can do to hurt you. I believe more and more that this is inevitable. Not "right" or "wrong," unavoidable, the next step in a natural progression. I don't want it to go this way but the ball is not in my court right now.

If you get an animal cornered and terrified, poke it and hurt it and ignore its growls, you will get bit and it will be your fault. And that's all.

#politics

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testingthewatersss · 5 months

Text

I never lost him Trigger warnings for PTSD, mentions of war, torture, etc. Just unapologetic cuddling and comfort ft. Steve Rodgers. Bucky Barnes x F Reader Chapter 6 3500 words fluff, angst, comfort. 18+ MDNI Post TWS Steve realises that he's not the only one looking for Sargent Barnes. Reader is Tony’s sister, a non-enhanced shield agent who recently resurfaced.

“Does… Does she have to call me that?” Bucky murmurs, looking awfully shy.

“No” Y/N chuckles, “No, handsome- She’ll call you whatever you want.”

“Can… Can you call me Bucky, please?” he asks, eyes looking up towards the ceiling again, “Sargent Barnes, doesn’t— uh, it doesn’t feel right, right now”

“Sure I can, Bucky— are you happy to accept the family-access I outlined earlier?”

“Oh so that’s why you decided to offer your assurances, huh?” Y/N sniggers, resuming their path up the stairs, “Here I thought you were just bein’ sweet”

“I don’t know what you mean, Ms Stark”

Y/N laughs again, and Bucky finds himself unable to control his curiosity.

“What do you mean, doll?”

“She’s getting impatient with us” she tells him calmly, “She wants you to tell her if you’re happy with the security allowances of if she’ll have to re-negotiate the parameters— that’s why she chimed in, she was trying to rush us along”

The AI doesn’t deny her statement.

“She can do that?”

“Sure” Y/N says, guiding him towards a corridor, now, “She can do whatever she wants”

“Within reason” FRIDAY alters, “but, to bring us back to the topic at hand—“

“Okay” Y/N chuckles, “I hear you—Buck, are you okay with family access? it’s the same as me and Tony, it’s basically a free pass”

“But…” he says, coming to an abrupt stop, “But what if.. what if somethin’ happens and you need… and you need to stop me—”

“Hey” Y/N says, tone firm, “That’s not going to happen.”

“But if it did” Bucky counters, “If I have access like that then I’d— I’d be a threat and I—”

“Excuse my interruption, Bucky” FRIDAY inserts, “But in the very unlikely event of a ‘Code White’ we would recognise the need to alter the parameters and temporarily implement control measures until the situation was managed.”

“A code white?” he asks, blinking between the roof and Y/N, “What-“

“Yes, FRIDAY” Y/N bristles, “What is a ‘code white?’”

“It’s your brothers protocol” the AI replies, “for if there is a problem involving ‘The Winter Solider' “

“Right” she says, “and what exactly does the protocol entail?”

“Mainly it’s the withdrawal of Bucky’s access to the internal operating systems within the building, though it also triggers an alert to make sure that you, your brother, and Captain Rogers are aware of the possible threat.”

“Is that all it does?” she asks, anger she’d felt towards her brother for setting this up behind her back starting to ease, “It doesn’t initiate any hostile actions?”

“No, boss— Mr Stark was very clear in his coding— Sargent Barnes is not to be treated as a threat, and if we become concerned about his condition, no offensive measures are to be taken— all actions would be geared around securing him until somebody with authority arrives to manually intercept.”

“No exceptions?”

“No, boss.”

She nods at that, and makes a mental note to buy Tony dinner one of these days.

“So” Bucky says, catching up— “If I… if something did happen, I- I’d lose access and you- you’d be told to come and get me from wherever I was?”

“Looks like it” Y/N agrees, “I’ll go over everything properly later but it looks like T has it all figured out”

“Then I accept” Bucky says, “But only as long as you promise me, Doll— Promise me that you’ll keep the ‘code white’ stuff in place, no matter what.”

“Bucky” she tries to reason, “It’s not necessary- I keep tellin’ you, it doesn’t work that way, you’re not some kind of time-bomb—”

“It makes me feel better” he tells her honestly, “Knowing that if somethin’ did happen, somethin’ I can’t control then you’d still be safe, I— I’m always so worried ‘bout that, doll, you know I am, and this, this might be a way I can relax a little”

She understands, even if she thinks it’s awfully sad.

“Alright” she sighs, “Alright, sweetheart, we’ll keep the ‘code-white’— but I’m not promising I won’t tweak it a little, I don’t know what he’s set as a ‘trigger’ for it yet.”

“Deal” Bucky accepts, shifting uncomfortably on his feet, “I… I accept the- the access.”

“Thank you” FRIDAY says, “and, I have uploaded a comprehensive list of ‘code-white action points’ to your tablets, boss— you can review or alter them at your convenience, your brother transferred control of the protocol to you last week.”

“Last week?” She echos, genuinely surprised, “When exactly did he start working on this little project?”

“Two weeks after you moved into the safe house, boss— He finalised it a month ago, but I assume he was waiting for you to make your relationship public before giving you access”

“We weren’t public last week” she counters, “What changed?”

“I’m not sure” FRIDAY replies, “but I would suspect it was something to do with the mission you returned from, as he reviewed the details shortly after you first returned.”

“Son of a bitch” she mumbles, “He heard me, on the quinn jet.”

“What?” Bucky asks, “wh-“

“Tony” she sighs, frustrated, “He must’ve heard me talkin’ to the others on the way back from that base— I keep forgettin’ his Russian isn’t terrible anymore…”

“So he… he knew?” Bucky checks, “He knew about—“

“If he had this thing set up a month ago I’d wager he’s known for awhile, I bet he heard me tellin’ Steve and figured that if I was doin’ that then it must’ve meant I was close to tellin’ everyone else.”

“but, he… he didn’t try and stop you from seeing me?”

“Why would he do that?” Y/N asks, genuinely confused, as she tries to urge him back into walking.

“Because I…” Bucky begins, obliging and taking a few more steps towards a door at the end of the hallway “..He… he-”

“I keep tellin’ you, sweetheart” she says, “I know he was angry when you first met, but was more hurt by Steve for not just being honest with him. You just happened to be there when it all blew up.”

“But I-”

“-You” she cuts in, “didn’t do anything, Bucky- Tony has a temper, but he’s smart, he understands- Sure, I didn’t want to rub this whole thing in his face but I never tried to hide it from him either, not like I did with Rodgers so he’s had plenty of time to adjust to the whole idea of us bein’ a couple.”

“But why has he gone to so much trouble?” Bucky asks now, “He didn’t have to do any of this, doll, not- not helpin’ keep Rogers away today, not tellin’ FRIDAY I was comin’—”

“He probably feels bad” Y/N shrugs, hand reaching out for the handle, “He’s not good at apologies, grand gestures have always been more his style.”

“Why would he feel bad?” he presses, genuinely not understanding, “It’s me who-”

“He lashed out, love, he hit you in the face” she reminds him, “more than once.”

The door to the suite they’re going to share opens silently.

Y/N beams, nodding at him as he peers over the threshold.

“I had it coming“ he mumbles, not being able to stay silent, “I deserved everything he did and more—”

“Looks like he disagrees”

“What?—”

His question dies in his throat as he steps into the room. His eyes widen as he takes in expanse of the space;

It’s beautiful. Soft, beige carpets, with deep burgundy walls, and dark, old wood.

It’s calm and welcoming and, layed out across leather arm chair that is to the left of the seemingly real fire, there is a huge pile of clothes.

Mens clothes. Large mens clothes.

Thick cable knit sweaters, sweat pants, jeans, and lots, and lots of t-shirts, all lying there, with a single red bow on the top of the pile.

Y/N steps towards it, and peels off a note, smiling as she hands it to her lover, who blinks at it, like it might burst into flames.

Welcome Home — T. Stark

p.s used Cap’ for the sizing. Y/N can show you how to exchange if needed.

“I think it’ll fit” she coos, holding up a dark blue jumper, “You’re not far off Steve, are ya’ love?”

He’s so overwhelmed by the gesture that he really doesn’t know what to say.

This is all more than he could ever have expected, and he doesn’t deserve any of it.

Not one single piece.

“8” he says, looking at her urgently, “8, Y/N, please this… this is all too much”

“Okay” she murmurs, discarding the sweater back on the pile, “It’s okay, you’re alright.”

“This” he huffs, looking around, “it’s too much, it— it’s too- it’s too nice, I— I can’t, I can’t take it, I— I can’t”

“You” she purrs, “are going to have to get used to niceness, Bucky. You haven’t had nearly enough of it lately.”

“I can’t take it” he repeats, imploring her to understand, “not after everything I’ve done —”

“You haven’t done anything” she counters calmly, “I know you disagree, I know it feels like it was all your fault, but it wasn’t— it really, really wasn’t”

He’s starring at her, wide eyed and anxious, one hand in hers as the other slips up, to fuss with his dog tag again.

Suddenly, Y/N finds herself remembering all the times she’s seen him reaching up to paw at his neck, before.

She’d written it off as a quirk, as something he just did when he was anxious, but now, the action makes a lot more sense.

“Baby” she sighs, softening her expression and taking a step closer towards him, “I know it’s not easy, I know none of this feels right”

“It… It’s too much” he repeats, “It… It’s just, it’s too much”

“I hear you” she tells him, knowing that he’s used to not being allowed to speak, let alone being listened to, “I know it’s a lot.”

“I can’t…” he says weakly, “Y/N/N, I don’t deserve any of this”

“C’mere” she says instantly, guiding him into a hug, “You… god, Buck— You deserve the world.”

He’s clinging to her back now, chain around his neck long forgotten.

His face is buried against her shoulder and all he can think about is how he doesn’t want anything other than her.

“We can put the clothes in the closet?” she suggests, “You don’t have to process all that today, not unless you want to.”

“I… I don’t think I can” he admits, “I- I can’t take things from him, doll, not- not after everything’-”

“Alright” she agrees, “Okay, we’ll put them away, and you can look at them when you’re more settled in”

That still involves accepting them, so she takes the small nod he offers as a major victory.

“For right now” she coos softly, “Why don’t you take a look around, huh? find somewhere to unload your bag.”

“Will you come with me?” he asks, voice muffled by the position he’s in, “Please?”

“Sure” Y/N agrees, smiling as she takes hold of his hand again, “Where do you want to start?”

They start in the entry way, because it’s where they’re standing.

Once Bucky has saciated his need to examine the door they’d come through, they head towards the mantel. He asks her if the fire is real, and she laughs, asking what he means by ‘real’-

“It’s a self-maintaining energy source that produces heat, without the flammability of conventional flames”

He stares at her, brow furrowed in confusion;

“When it’s turned on the imagery mimics a wood burning fire” she explains, “and it releases heat molecules to warm the room up, but because it’s man made it doesn’t catch like regular fire. It doesn’t spread or burn unless we tell it too, so we can leave it goin’ for longer and not worry ‘bout any accidents.”

“You, you made that?” he asks, awe slipping into his tone as he crouches, to stare directly at the glowing embers.

“Yeah” she chuckles, “I had a spare weekend, and it bothered me, y’know? having’ to keep lighting actual ones every time I wanted one going…”

“It even sounds real” he murmurs, listening to the muted crackling, “and the logs, they’re… they look so solid”

“Well” she says, almost flushing with pride, “No point in doin’ somethin’ if you’re not goin’ to do it right”

He laughs at that, turning to face her with a genuine grin on his face.

He’s amazed and it shows.

Y/N doesn’t think he could look any more beautiful if he tried.

“C’mon” she beams, “I’ll show you how to work it.”

There’s a hidden panel on the side of the ornate mantle. FRIDAY helpfully lets him know that controlling the systems are part of his security privileges, and by the time he’s finished fiddling with the buttons, he’s decided that having the sound effects 1% lower, whilst raising the heat by 12% is the way he likes it best. Y/N sets it as their new default, but reminds him that he can change it anytime he likes.

Next, they head into their little kitchenette. It’s quaint, and easy to navigate. After living in the safe house he’s familiar with microwaves and coffee machines and other than the small refrigerator unit and stove top there doesn’t seem to be anything else he’d need to master using.

Until the woman he’s with holds her hands over a panel on one of the counter top and a holographic book appears in the air. She chuckles at his intrigue and explains that she and Tony had been acquiring recipes for years— from restaurants and friends, from family and private chefs— so at some point the pair had decided to scan them all in and create their own cook-book. She flips through a couple of pages, demonstrating how easy it is to navigate, and reminds him that FRIDAY can find or translate anything he wants.

“You can have her add groceries to the list, too” she says offhandedly, “Delivery day is usually Tuesday but we can usually make stuff appear a little sooner if we need it.”

It’s mind blowing.

They go up a set of three small steps and open one oak door before reaching the ‘bed room’ portion of the suit.

It’s different to how he’d pictured it.

Really, the whole thing is different.

He’s seen a lot of fancy houses in the magazines that had gathered in the safe house. He’s seen a lot of marble, and sleek black furniture that, when paired with sparse surfaces seemed to be called ‘modernism’ and that is more what he’d envisioned whenever he’d pictured the home of the woman he loves.

Now he’s seen the reality, he can’t justify why he’d pictured her living somewhere that barren. This, is much more her, which is a welcome relief. Not one part of living in a place as sterile as the ones he’s seen pictured had appealed to him, really, even though he’d have done so happily for her.

The walls in this area are cream, but the built in storage is wood that’s been painted with a deep, dark navy that’s chipping off in places. The bed frame itself is the same dark wood that had accented the adjoining space, and there is clutter everywhere.

He sees a small arrangement of bronze trinkets, and a collection of books on one of the bedside tables, the other, however is bare aside from one vintage picture frame, which, he notices houses a picture of them. It’s of them from a couple of months back, when she’d gifted him a polaroid camera that he still carries everywhere he goes.

It’s on the right, because that’s the side of the bed he sleeps on. Because that’s where he has the best view of the door, and where he used to stand the best chance of escaping from, before someone came to hurt him.

Bucky realises that he’s been silent for a long time when he feels her thumb brushing over his knuckles.

He clings to her hand and tries to take it all in.

“The bathrooms through there” she says, nodding towards the only other door in the space, “Bath, shower, toilet and all that good stuff”

He nods, mouth suddenly very dry.

“How about I go get those clothes for the closet?” Y/N offers, “You can take a bit of time to get settled? Poke around a little.”

She sees him getting ready to object, so she decides to cut him off, kissing him before whispering out an “It’s your home too now, Buck” that seems to hit him awfully hard.

With a nod, and a final squeeze of her palm, he lets go, pawing at his eyes to try and force back the tears that are suddenly stinging behind them.

He’s in the bathroom when she comes back with his presents. She hides them in the side of the dresser she’s kept empty for him, only leaving out a pair of sweat pants and a long sleeve t-shirt that she thinks he might want to wear before bed. She lays those across the end of the bed and tops them with a pair of wool socks that she bought a few days before her last mission.

By the time she’s done, he’s back out in the main room, having slipped out whilst she was too preoccupied to notice.

She does however notice the pair of boots that have been placed by the entrance to the bathroom.

Her heart swells in her chest, and when she almost trips over his backpack, which has been left by the end of the bed, she almost starts crying herself.

He’s by the fire again, hovering by the worn leather couch— she’s about to call out a greeting but he turns to face her with an expression so captivated that she can’t quite get the words out;

“What’s this, doll?”

He’s asking about the large wicker basket that’s stuffed full of blankets. It’s by the armchair, close enough to both that, and the fire to make it easily accessible by everyone who might want to grab a quilt from inside.

“That?” she checks, closing the distance towards him, “That’s a basket full of blankets.”

Bucky hears himself gasp at her answer. A thick, teal cover slipping through his metal fingers as they continue to dip into it’s contents.

“Why?” is all he can think to ask,

“Because” Y/N answers calmly, “I wanted to make sure that nobody was ever going to be cold in here.”

“D-do I really get to stay here?”

Her head tilts. The waiver in his voice hitting her like a hard punch to the throat.

“Sweetheart” she whispers, seeing the emotion in his face, “Sweetheart of course you do.”

Before she can take another breath he’s in her arms. He’s throwing himself against her chest with enough urgency to wind her as she moves to hold him, too.

“Hey” she gasps, “Hey, it’s okay, you’re alright.”

Bucky forces himself to nod, because it’s all he can think to do.

“This is your home now” she tells him, “Yours, and mine, okay? nobodies goin’ to make you leave.”

and then, he’s crying.

Grateful, relieved, painful little sobs wracking up from his chest because he just can’t fathom trying to swallow them down.

This is so much more than he’d expected. This whole thing has hit him so much harder than he’d thought it would.

And he’s safe, and he’s finally, really, really safe, and he’s with Y/N, and she doesn’t have to go anywhere, because she’s already there, and he gets to stay. He gets to stay with her, he gets to have a home again, but this time, he gets to share it with the woman he loves, and that is all he’s wanted, since he remembers wanting anything at all.

and it’s real. It’s real and he’s crying because he just can’t stop.

“Bucky” she soothes, “Bucky, sweetheart, what’s the matter?”

“N-nothin” he gasps, “I- I’m… I just… I-”

Understanding floods her at once, and then, she’s smiling, pressing a kiss against the top of his head as she lets him come apart against her shoulder. As she lets him settle himself in the privacy her body can offer him.

“I love you too” she swears, waiting until he finally pulls away to dry his cheeks with her fingers, “I know comin’ here took a lot, and I know that it isn’t goin’ to magically make the past 80 years ago away, but I really do think that with time, when you’ve really settled in you’re goin’ to feel better”

“I already do” he tells her quietly, “This… this is already better”

“Good” she beams, “now, do you want to try out the shower? I’m sure you can figure out how it works without me-”

“If” he sniffs bravely, “If I say I can’t, does that mean you’ll show me?”

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | x | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12

#bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barns x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes angst #bucky x you #bucky x female reader #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky fanfic #the winter soldier x you #fluff #x reader #drabble #series #BBneverlosthim

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mrsstruggle · 1 year

Text

The Lost Child - Chapter 33 // Teen Wolf x Marvel AU

Summary: Y/N Stark was taken from her family when she was three years old. It’s fifteen years later and her family believes she is dead. Then how is she living in Beacon Hills?

Warnings: Language, Mentions of Death/Injury/Grief/Torture, Possible Grammar Mistakes (please let me know if there is anything else)

Pairings: Derek Hale x Reader, Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes, Bruce Banner x Natasha Romanoff, Vision x Wanda Maximoff, & More To Come

Previous Pairings: Tony Stark x Pepper Potts, Scott McCall x Allison Argent

Words: 6.3k

Note: The last two chapters and epilogue are coming soon!

Additional Note: While this is a Teen Wolf x Marvel AU, not everything is true to the shows/movies/comics. I had to change things for the story.

One Last Note: Y/N was adopted by Tony Stark and Pepper Potts. I did this so more people can see themselves in this story.

***I do not own Teen Wolf or Marvel or any related characters. This is a work of fanfiction and is meant for entertainment purposes only.***

Masterlist

The Lost Child Masterlist

Previous Chapter

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"So, what do we do?" Peter asks.

"We need to leave," Tony states, while, at the same time, Derek says, "We need to get the others."

"Leave?" Scott looks at Tony with a confused look.

"You said there's an army gathering outside of town and they've put a target on Y/N's head. We're leaving." The Avengers nod their heads in agreement around Tony.

Y/N steps in front of Derek, "I'm not going anywhere. I'm not the only one with a target on my head."

"Yes, but you are the one with the biggest one. We just got you back and we still haven't been able to do anything about that. We've barely even spoken. We all thought you were dead for years."

"Look, I get where you're coming from but I'm not leaving. Leaving won't do anything and it will only make it worse. I'd rather people think I'm a monster because I'm a werewolf than think I'm a monster because I ran and hid while innocent people got slaughtered."

Tony knows that the look of defiance on her face means she's not going anywhere, "Fine. We better ge–"

"No," Scott cuts him off. "We're in charge here."

"Excuse me?"

"I know you're the big Avengers and everything but we deal with this stuff all the time. Beacon Hills is our home so we're in charge."

"No offense but how old are you? We might not be experts on werewolves or hunters, but we've dealt with much worse. This isn't our home like it is yours but we know how to deal with things like this."

"Right, like how you dealt with the killer robot you created? Maybe we should ask the people of Sokovia to tell us how well you helped them?" Stiles looks at Tony with a slight smirk on his face.

"We don't have time for this!" Y/N interjects. "I'm in charge and that's final."

Tony looks like he wants to argue but decides against it. She's right, they don't have time to argue about who knows better. If people are getting ready to attack them, they need to focus on that and not on petty things.

"What do you want us to do?" Steve asks after Tony doesn't say anything.

"Stiles, you said we have two hours, right?"

"Right," Stiles affirms.

"Call Chris and put him on speaker."

Stiles quickly opens his phone and clicks on Chris's number before putting his phone on speaker. Everyone stares at the phone silently as they wait for Chris to answer. Y/N slightly paces back and forth as she thinks about what she wants to do.

"Hello?" Chris's voice rings out.

"Chris, you told Stiles that they're gathering outside of town. Where?"

"There's a safehouse about ten miles north of town. It's deep into the woods where no one can find it."

"But you know where it is?"

"Of course."

"Meet us at the old Hale house in 30 minutes. Bring whatever you got. We're bringing the fight to them." Y/N looks up at Derek for reassurance that she's making the right call.

"There's something else," Chris states.

"What?" Scott quickly asks, moving closer to the phone.

"It's not just hunters she's recruited. She's recruited something else as well. I don't know how she found it or if it found her but she has an Anuk-Ite."

"What the hell is that? Is that some kind of weapon?" Stiles questions.

"It's an ancient shapeshifter that feeds off fear. It's already merged which means it's in its most dangerous form. Whatever you do, don't look at it in the eyes. If you look into it's eyes you will turn into stone and die. For humans, you would die immediately, but if you're supernatural you can survive long enough until someone kills it."

"What do you mean it feeds off fear? How can we not look into it's eyes if we don't know what it looks like?" Y/N asks. They can deal with hunters easily but they don't know what this other creature is or anything about it. They don't have time to stop and research either.

Chris sighs through the phone, "It can amplify a person's fear and then feed off of it to make it more powerful. It can also implant illusions into your mind and trick you into looking into their eyes. It will take your biggest fears and use them against you."

"Great," Stiles states, "so we have to make sure the hunters don't kill us while also keeping our eyes closed so we don't turn into human statues."

The Avengers look at each other with worry and confusement in their eyes. They've dealt with terrorists, assassins, gods, aliens, and more but they've never dealt with something like this. Is this what Y/N and the others deal with all the time? They talk so naturally about people hunting them like it's just a normal thing they deal with.

"How do we kill it?" Scott asks.

"Trap it in mountain ash and it's powers will rebound on itself," Chris replies.

"Okay, thanks for letting us know. We'll call the others and gather as much stuff and people that we can." Y/N says. She rubs her temples as she starts to think about what they should do. Hunters and the Anuk-Ite are only the things that Chris knows about. Knowing Kate, she probably has more up her sleeve that they don't know about.

"I'll do the same. See you in 30 minutes." The line goes dead as Chris hangs up the phone.

Everyone stands silently staring at Y/N, waiting for her to tell them what to do. She said she was in charge so they are ready to hear what her plan is.

"Stiles, call dad and tell him to block all roads leading in and out of Beacon Hills." Tony's face falls slightly hearing Y/N call someone else dad.

"Do I tell him why?" Stiles asks. He's not sure if he wants to tell their dad what's about to happen. They don't need him volunteering to help. Their dad isn't supernatural like Y/N or Scott. If he gets hurt badly enough or turned to stone, that's it for him. Stiles isn't supernatural either but he knows he can take care of himself. He's been dealing with things like this ever since Scott got turned.

"No. Just tell him to close off the town and look out for hunters."

"Got it." Stiles walks away from the others to call the sheriff.

"What do you want us to do?" Bucky steps in front of Steve, ready for Y/N to give him an order. He never thought he'd see the day that little Y/N Stark would be leading them into a battle but he can't hide the proud look on his face. While he never wanted her to know a life like the Avengers know, he's glad to see the woman she turned out to be. It's something he stopped believing he'd see after a while.

"You and Steve can go with Scott and recruit as many people as you can. There's a lot of supernatural people who live in this town. They need to be given an option to either fight with us or stay and hope we defeat the army before they burst into town and kill everyone they want." Y/N states, looking between Scott, Steve, and Bucky.

"Do you really think we can't defeat a mere mortal army?" Thor questions. This sounds like an easy win. Why do they need more people? Why are they putting so much thought into this? He can just go over there and take them all out with a single swing of his hammer.

"I think fear makes people do unexpected things and I've learned to never underestimate anyone. Even the weakest of people can take down the strongest with the right motivation."

"Yeah, like this one time we were almost taken out by a small creepy guy who also had an obsession with Scott's ex-girlfriend," Stiles states, coming back into the room. "He also had a giant lizard helping him but it's whatever."

"Or like Stiles." Stiles throws an offended look at Y/N as she says his name. "He's human and he runs around with werewolves and is constantly against hunters or other supernatural creatures and things. He's physically weaker than all of them and yet he's still here. Except for the time that he was the supernatural thing but that's beside the point."

"What about the rest of us? What do you want us to do?" Tony asks. He still thinks they should get Y/N out of here and let someone else deal with this issue. If she's the target, she shouldn't be here. They could take the quinjet and get her to the compound, but if she wants to stay and fight, and he can't convince her otherwise, he'll stay and fight with her.

"You, Peter, Stiles, and Derek should head back to the apartment." Y/N holds up her hand to silence the protest Stiles and Derek started to make. "Sneak back in and then go out where everyone who's gathered there can see you. Pretend like I'm with you and make sure they follow you. I don't care where you take them, just make sure they're away from the apartment. If any hunters get through the blockade, that's one of the first places they'll go and we don't need more people getting hurt."

"Why do we have to go with them?!" Stiles exclaims, Derek nodding in agreement next to him.

"One, what four people will people be looking out for the most in the 'Y/N Stark's alive' story? Two, it's Derek's apartment so he has to be there to make it realistic. And three, because I said so."

"Then what are you and Scott doing?"

"Scott's going with Steve and Bucky to get others who want to fight."

"Then who's going with you? What are you doing?"

"I'm going with the rest of them to the Hale house to meet with Chris and figure out the best way to attack," Y/N states, looking at the rest of the Avengers to let them know that's what they were going to do.

Derek crosses his arms in a protective manner, "You're going with them. Alone." He knows that they are technically her family but he doesn't trust them. He knows next to nothing about them except that the world's biggest heroes let Y/N be given to one of the world's biggest terrorist groups by one of their own.

Y/N rolls her eyes, "I'll be fine. I'll also text the others and let them know to go to the Hale house." She pulls her phone out of her pocket and checks the time. "We should go now since we only have two hours until they start killing everyone in Beacon Hills."

"Is everyone here supernatural?" Tony asks.

"No, but I doubt they stop and ask questions before pulling the trigger." Y/N turns to Stiles, Scott, and Derek, "Meet at the Hale house in about 45 minutes. An hour at the most. Got it?"

"Got it," Scott affirms while Stiles gives her a thumbs up.

Derek slowly walks over to her and slides his arms around her waist, pulling her in close. Their eyes lock as they silently communicate with each other. Derek's mind is swimming with things he wants to tell her but there's too much to say.

Y/N, noticing the scared and worried look in his eyes, leans into Derek and kisses him softly, "I'll be okay. I promise."

"I love you," he whispers.

"I love you too."

Derek places another quick kiss on Y/N's forehead before walking towards the front door. "Let's get this over with," he grumbles as he passes Stiles. Stiles huffs in frustration as he pulls his keys out of his pocket and follows Derek out the door.

"Steve, the keys to the car are on my dresser. You'll probably need them." Tony states before sharing a look with Peter and following Derek and Stiles.

Peter hasn't said much since they were told hunters are getting ready to kill Y/N and her friends. He wants to agree with their dad and say Y/N should get out of Beacon Hills, but his savior complex agrees with Y/N and knows they should stay and fight.

Steve runs up to Tony's room and grabs the keys to the SUV. He runs back down and shakes the keys towards Scott and Bucky, "Let's go."

"How are we getting to where we're going?" Sam questions, watching Steve, Bucky, and Scott leave the lake house.

"We'll walk there," Y/N replies.

"Walk there?"

"It's not that far from here. You should know that since we were just there."

"And there's the sass I remember," Natasha smirks, loving the exchange between Y/N and Sam.

Y/N doesn't comment or show any emotion to Nat's comment. She doesn't know how to feel when they make comments about who she used to be. "Grab whatever you need and let's get going."

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No one has spoken a word since they got into Stiles' jeep. They sit in awkward silence as Stiles drives toward Derek's and Y/N's apartment.

Peter wants to say something but he's not sure what he should say. He has so many questions he wants to ask. He wants to know everything about Y/N that he can but he's not sure if they'll answer his questions or not.

Derek can feel the nervousness rolling off of Peter. He can smell it too. He can't tell if it's because of the car situation they're in now or if he's nervous about what's to come. Derek wants to be nervous about what could happen in a few hours but he's just angry. He's angry at Kate. He's angry that Y/N, once again, has a big target on her head. And he's angry at the shit show their lives have become in just a few days.

While their lives have always been a bit of a shit show, this past week has been something else. His head can't seem to wrap around everything. Like, he's now sitting in Stiles' jeep with Y/N's other father and her other brother. He never thought that was something that would happen.

Stiles continuously glances over at Tony who's sitting in the passenger seat next to him. Maybe he should try to talk to him or get to know him. He's also Y/N's family and she doesn't plan on just cutting them out. Knowing her she's probably secretly coming up with a plan where everyone gets to be an equal part of her life.

Stiles will never admit it but Tony was right. When he saw the photos of Y/N Stark's funeral, in the back of his mind he knew it was the girl he called his sister. He never fully dove into the case of the missing Stark because he was afraid that it would just confirm that the voice in the back of his head was right. So he stayed away from it, locked it in the back of his mind, and never thought of it again. As he got older, he eventually forgot about the possibility of his sister being Y/N Stark.

"How'd you meet?" Tony's voice breaks the silence.

"What?" Stiles asks, confused about what and who Tony is talking to.

"Derek, how did you and Y/N meet?"

Derek clears his throat before answering, "Technically we met when she was trespassing on my property with Stiles and Scott."

"We were looking for Scott's inhaler," Stiles says defensively.

"You said technically. What do you mean by that?" Tony questions.

"We met more officially after she saved my life after my ex-girlfriend shot me." Derek answers. While they had technically met a few other times between meeting on his property and him getting shot, they never spoke much until she saved his life. That was also the moment that Stiles found out his sister was a werewolf.

As Derek was slowly dying from the wolfsbane-infected bullet wound, Y/N came rushing in and quickly got to work on burning the wolfsbane and getting it out of his system. While he could tell she was a werewolf when they first met, Stiles was in complete shock that she knew what to do. He wasn't even sure how she knew where they were.

After Stiles and Scott figured out Scott was a werewolf, they swore to not get Y/N involved. They obviously didn't know that she was already involved way before they were, but they just wanted to protect her from what was going on. After saving Derek, that's when she decided to tell them the secret she'd been hiding from them.

"Was it the same ex that's trying to kill you now?" Peter asks.

"The exact same one," Stiles answers with an angry smile on his face. Kate seems to enjoy fucking up their lives at any chance she can get. Every time they think she's gone, she comes right back.

"D-Do you think you could tell us about Y/N?" Tony asks quietly.

The quietness and the hesitation in Tony's voice startles Stiles. If there's one thing he knows about Tony Stark, it's that he's extremely confident and he never seems to be afraid of anything. It sounded like he was afraid to ask that question. Even looking at him Tony looks nervous.

"U-Um, what do you, uh, want to know?" Stiles questions back.

"Anything."

Stiles thinks for a moment, "Um, hmm. I literally have no idea what to say." What details do you tell your sister's first father and other brother who thought she was dead up until a few days ago?

"What's happened to her?" Peter asked, his voice full of emotion.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean she killed three guys and afterwards it didn't look like it affected her at all. This was before she got her memories back so I know that wasn't Hydra's doing. When we were in the woods and she got shot she acted like it was just a normal day. What's happened to her where all of this is okay?"

This has been the biggest question on Peter's mind since he found out she is his sister. While he knows that she's going to be different from the last time he saw her, he doesn't know how it got to this point. Was it one specific horrible thing or have there been a lot of horrible things? He's assuming a lot since when they met she had people hunting her, now more people are hunting her, and the other Avengers have filled him in on the deadpool situation and the other things they've learned.

He guesses he can't be too shocked about how she turned out because it's better than her being dead. She's also a lot better than he had prepared himself for. He's always had a weird feeling that she possibly wasn't dead, that they found the wrong body, but he never put much thought into it.

The last time he put any thought into Y/N possibly being alive was a year after they found her 'body.' He started thinking about it more and more at night because he couldn't shake the weird feeling. He started to prepare himself for what they could find if it was true. If she'd been with Hydra the whole time, they'd probably find her a shell of a human and being forced to do things she'd never do. What if they found her and she'd been held captive the whole time? He knows that with age she would change, but what if it was more than that?

"She's been through a lot. We all have. Everything changed after Scott got bit." Stiles says.

"We told you about Allison and Aiden and that they died but they weren't the only ones," Derek states, his jaw clenching in anger as he looks out the window next to him.

"Who are Allison and Aiden?" Peter asks. He wasn't there when they talked about them.

"Allison was Scott's girlfriend. She's also Kate's niece. She died after being stabbed by an Oni." Stiles explains. "Aiden dated Lydia at one point and he was an alpha with his twin brother. They could also merge and become this really big werewolf which was really freaky. He also died after being stabbed by an Oni."

"What's an Oni?"

"Oh, they're thes–"

"Look it up later." Derek interrupts Stiles. "If you ask him to explain everything, it will get confusing real fast."

"You said they weren't the only ones. Who else have you lost?" Tony asks.

"Well, there's Erica, who was killed by the alpha pack. And you also have Boyd, who was also killed by the alpha pack. That's exactly what it sounds like by the way." Stiles answers.

"Y/N was really close to all of them. She was there for Allison after her mom died and after her and Scott broke up. She was there for Erica and Boyd after they turned and when they needed help on full moons. She was even there for Aiden and his brother after they no longer had a pack and wanted to join Scott's." Derek says.

He remembers the sleepless nights that Y/N had after each one of their deaths. He remembers holding her tight while she wept for hours after finding out Erica was dead. He remembers her screams and cries of anguish when she ran into the loft to see Boyd dead. He remembers the night she finally broke after Allison's death after weeks of being strong for everyone else and the shoulder to cry on. He remembers how she shut down after Aiden's death and after Isaac moved away.

"The one that definitely hit her the most, even though she refused to ever let it show, was our mom's death," Stiles says.

"When did she die?" Peter's hoping he's not being insensitive or bringing up things he shouldn't be asking all of these questions.

"Uh," Stiles clears his throat as he tries to keep his emotions in check, "she died when we were really young. She died of frontotemporal dementia."

"What else has happened?" Tony asks, changing the subject.

"The hunters have consistently been hunting us so I won't bring up every instance of that. There was once a guy who was controlling a giant lizard and killing people. He eventually attacked us as well. Then Gerard took control of the lizard and that was a whole thing.

"Then there's the alpha pack who wanted Derek to kill everyone and join them. Then his other ex-girlfriend was committing human sacrifices and tried to kill our parents. There was also the time I was possessed by an evil spirit. And not too long ago, Derek was forcibly taken to Mexico and de-aged by Kate."

"De-aged?"

"Yeah, there's a lot there. I'd tell you but I think he'd actually rip my throat out."

"Wait, so not only do you have one ex-girlfriend who's a hunter and she killed your whole family and she's trying to kill you, but you also have an ex-girlfriend who committed human sacrifices?" Peter asks, confusion evident on his face.

"I don't want to talk about it." Derek quickly states.

"Dude, you really do have terrible taste," Stiles says.

"What about Y/N?"

"She also has terrible taste," Stiles smirks as Derek slightly growls at him.

They go silent once more as Tony and Peter process everything they were just told. They know Stiles just gave them the short version of some of the things that happened but they didn't sound good. Several people who were associated with Y/N and her friends have died. While the Avengers have had some close calls, none of them have yet to die.

Peter still doesn't understand what has happened to where she is how she is now. At what point did she feel comfortable killing others? While he knows she was given a choice between him and the three teens, and he's grateful that she saved his life, she acted like it didn't bother her. Maybe he just didn't see it. Even after she got shot, she was more upset by the thought of him driving Derek's car than the fact she was dying.

"How was she able to kill three people and not even blink?" Peter asks, nervously playing with the sleeves of his hoodie.

"What happened to make her kill them? We have our theory but we don't know what happened." Derek questions back.

"They drugged me with something and told her I was going to die if I wasn't given the cure. They told her she'd get the cure after she killed them. They also said their mission was to kill us."

"So she was protecting you and saved your life?" Stiles asks, confused about why Peter was questioning Y/N's choices if her reasoning was clear.

"I guess but why did it seem like it didn't affect her?"

"Let me tell you one thing about Y/N. She will never let you know how she really feels and you will rarely see her mask falter. She uses sarcasm and jokes as a shield. While you see it as it didn't affect her, I promise you it definitely did. She doesn't even have to tell me anything to know it's true. She's also very protective of the people she considers family or even a friend."

"He's right," Derek affirms. He knows better than anyone how Y/N really is. She saw the walls he built around himself and helped tear them down, and he did the same to hers.

"Well, it looks like more people have shown up," Stiles mumbles, noticing that the number of people outside of Derek's and Y/N's building has doubled since they left as he pulls into the parking garage.

"What's the plan?" Peter asks as Stiles pulls into a parking spot.

"First we're going to go up to the apartment and go out onto the balcony where everyone can see us. They need to see that we're here. All of us except for Peter. Then we come back down but we throw a blanket over Peter."

"Why me?"

"Because I said so. Everyone will think you're Y/N and see us leaving together so they'll follow us."

"You know we aren't blood-related right? Why would they think I'm her?"

"They're just going to see us trying to get someone out of the building. They'll assume it's Y/N."

"They didn't see us leave earlier. They didn't even notice us pull in now. What makes you think they'll follow us?" Derek questions.

"I've got that covered."

"When did you come up with this?"

"When you were too busy having a disgusting goodbye with my sister." Stiles quickly gets out of the jeep before Derek could hit him.

Derek rolls his eyes at Stiles' antics and gets out of the jeep as Tony and Peter do the same. They stand in silence as they take the elevator up to the loft. Once at the top, Derek takes out his keys and opens the loft door for them to go in. Peter stays in the living room while the others walk out onto the balcony.

On the balcony, Derek and Tony look over the edge and look at the crowd below. Screaming and yelling can be heard when people notice them.

"Alright, let's go," Derek says, walking back into the loft to grab a blanket to throw over Peter.

Stiles and Tony follow Derek back into the loft. Derek grabs a blanket off the couch before walking out of the loft with the other right behind them. As they get into the elevator, Derek throws the blanket over Peter.

"This is stupid. There's no way this will work." Peter says.

"We're about to find out," Stiles mutters, texting someone on his phone. The elevator suddenly dings open and they slowly start to walk toward Stiles' jeep.

"Oh my god, it's them! They're over here!" Derek looks towards the entrance of the parking lot to see Mason and Liam yelling and pointing toward them.

"Really?" Derek growls lowly to Stiles.

Stiles goes to respond to Derek before his eyes widen in shock as the group of people previously standing outside the building are now running toward them. They quickly rush towards the jeep and get in as quickly as possible. As Stiles slams his door shut, the jeep is surrounded by people yelling questions at them, taking pictures, and some of them banging on the jeep trying to get their attention. "If they bang up my jeep, Y/N's paying for it."

"I'll buy you a new jeep. Just get us the fuck out of here." Tony hisses, trying to shield his eyes from the bright camera flashes.

Stiles slowly drives out of the garage while trying not to run anyone over. Once they get onto the street, he starts to speed up and drive away from the apartment. He looks into his rearview mirror to see cars driving after them. People are also clamoring into cars and onto bikes to try and follow them. There are even a few running after them.

"Can I take this off now?" Peter asks, not enjoying being under the blanket.

"Not yet," Stiles mutters, trying to focus on where he's going and making sure they're being followed.

"Where are we going?" Derek asks.

"I'm taking them towards the edge of town. Not the one near the hunters but the other one. With the police block, I can make sure they either hold them back or send them out of town."

"What makes you think they won't just follow us back?" Tony questions.

"I know a back way."

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Everyone Scott talked to decided to stay home and prepare for if the hunters get into Beacon Hills. He had Lydia text him pictures of the old deadpool list so he knew who to talk to. Some of the people he'd never heard of or didn't know who they were but the majority of them he knew.

"How'd you become a werewolf?" Bucky asks.

"I got bit by Peter. The guy who's Derek's uncle." Scott replies, looking out at the trees from the backseat as they drive towards the Hale house. It didn't take them long to contact or find everyone on the lists.

"What about Derek?"

"He was born one."

"What's he like?" Bucky ignores the warning look Steve gives him from the driver's seat. They had a conversation where Steve told him that he needs to be nicer to Derek if they want to get closer to Y/N.

"He's broody, a bit grumpy, and sometimes an asshole but he's also like an older brother I never had."

"What's the story with him and Y/N?" Steve throws Bucky a glare as Bucky continues to interrogate Scott about Derek.

"Um, I don't really know the whole thing. I know they've been friends for the longest time. She saved his life once and I think it just went from there. Stiles told me he caught her texting him a lot at night at one point when some friends of ours died. I think that also brought them closer. I don't really know how their relationship changed from being just friends to more." Scott knows a bit more than that but he's not comfortable sharing everything with them.

Scott knows they got together sometime after Y/N saved Cora's life and around the time their parents were taken by the Darach. Cora was dying and Jennifer refused to heal her so Y/N did. They don't know how or what she did. Derek just left Cora for a second to go to the bathroom and when he came back down she was awake and healed.

He doesn't know the exact moment or what the conversation looked like because a lot was going on at the time. He just remembers after the whole Jennifer/Darach situation and while they were trying to help Malia get out of her coyote form, she was tracking down Derek and Peter with Braeden. Then when they went to the loft to check on Derek, they caught him and Y/N making out on his couch.

Bucky sighs, "Does he at least treat her nice?"

"You've seen them. I'm pretty sure you can answer that yourself."

Bucky tries not to huff in frustration. He was hoping to get more information about Derek but Scott doesn't seem willing to talk much about him. He just wants something to understand him. Steve says he thinks Bucky doesn't like him because he's exactly like him.

The car comes to a stop as Steve parks outside of the burnt-down Hale house. There are a few other cars already there but the jeep wasn't there yet. They get out of the car and follow the voices they can hear into the house.

"We can't just kill them all!" Lydia's voice rings out.

"Why not?" Malia asks.

"What's going on?" Scott asks, stepping into the room where everyone is gathered. He notices that Liam, Kira, Chris, and Mason are also there.

"We're coming up with a plan," Y/N says, standing over and looking at a map with Chris and Bruce.

"I found out that the Anuk-Ite isn't the only thing Kate has. She also brought Berserkers." Chris states.

"Great," Scott mutters, walking over to the map they're looking at.

Y/N points to a spot on the map, "This is where they are. I think the best way to attack would be to lure them out into the woods and take them down one by one."

"Why do you say that?"

"We don't know how many of them there are. If we just go in and attack, it could end badly for us. They probably have hundreds of wolfsbane bullets ready to shoot them through our heads. Even if they just get us somewhere else, the wolfsbane will take us down. We can't risk that."

"Okay. What about the Anuk-Ite and the Berserkers?"

"Try not to run into them."

"I brought mountain ash for the Anuk-Ite. Someone will have to trap it." Chris pulls out a jar of mountain ash from his jacket.

"Stiles will probably want to do that," Scott says.

"I think we should split into groups and lure them out at all angles," Y/N says, staring intensely at the map of the woods. "If we can get them to break up into small groups we'll take them down easily."

"Do we get to call dibs on who gets to rip out Kate's throat?" Peter Hale asks, stepping out of the dark corner of the room and moving towards the group gathered around the map.

"No, and even if we did it wouldn't be you. You had your chance and we all know how that went."

"What groups are you thinking?" Scott asks, ignoring Peter.

"We need a few people stationed closer toward Beacon Hills in case any of them get through. I think that should be Mason, Lydia, Bruce, and Thor."

"Why us?" Lydia asks.

"If you or Mason get shot, that's it for you. Bruce and Thor might be great for fighting aliens or killer robots but we don't need them for who we're fighting. No offense but I don't want to kill people that we don't have to." Y/N explains.

Bruce wants to argue but he can see her point. If she thinks the Hulk isn't needed, then he won't complain.

"I think we're perfect for fighting the Anu-kite and the Zerkers," Thor says, laughing a bit at the thought that he shouldn't fight.

"She's in charge so if she says your backup then your backup." Sam pats Thor on the back in a comforting manner. "What about me? Where should I go?"

"You'll go with Malia and Bucky and take the east end." Y/N points on the map where they'll go. "Kira, you'll take the north with Natasha and Wanda."

"Who's going with Stiles?" Scott asks.

"Stiles will go with Liam and Peter."

"Why do I have to go with him?" Peter Hale asks with an annoyed look on his face.

"Other Peter. You'll go with Chris and Derek and take the south end."

"Who's going with you?" Everyone turns to see Derek walking into the room with Stiles, Tony, and Peter following him.

"I'll go with Tony straight to the house." Tony hates that Y/N calls him by his name.

"Why him?"

"His suit gives him the best advantage in getting into the house against the bullets."

"What's the plan?" Stiles asks, walking over to stand next to Scott.

"We're luring them out into the woods and taking them out in small groups. That doesn't mean we're killing them, it just means we're taking them down." Scott looks at the Avengers as he says that.

Chris holds out the jar of mountain ash toward Stiles, "You're in charge of taking down the Anuk-Ite."

"So no pressure," Stiles huffs nervously, taking the jar from Chris.

"Scott, you and Steve take the west end." Y/N watches as Scott nods in confirmation. "If you need help or anything, call, scream, or howl. Whatever you feel like doing."

"And remember, don't look the Anuk-Ite in the eyes. If you're not 100% human and you look into it's eyes, you gotta hope we can kill it before you die. If you are just human, then you're dead." Chris reminds them.

"Wow, so no pressure at all," Stiles mumbles to himself.

"Is everyone ready?" Y/N looks around as everyone nods in confirmation, gives her thumbs up, or vocally lets her know they're ready. "Let's go then."

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Hello! Only 2 more chapters and an epilogue to go! Thank you to every single person who has read and enjoyed this story! This has definitely been a year to say the least. Your kind messages and comments make it better though!

While I have a few ideas for things after this story, I’d love to hear if there’s anything you’d like to see! If you want something new, if you want little mini spin-off stories of this, or if you want me to write another one that takes place a year after this or possible they go up against more Marvel villains. I don’t know. Just let me know!

I hope you all had a wonderful year! If you did or didn’t, I hope next year is even better! XOXO

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