#tortured and used as a puppet for the absolute - and having lived a life of service to lolth and the beanre - its understandable that she | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

solntepyok · 2 years

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Xenophanes' Yandere Alphabet

Metallica is very well written to. You can listen to one of the songs «Devil's Dance». As far as I'm concerned, this track suits perfectly Xenophanes.

Warnings: yandere's behavior, manipulation, intimidation, gaslighting, elements of Lima syndrome, detailed descriptions of body horror and murder and psychological/physical violence, torture

Art belongs to @crowstare.

Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

Xenophanes has a rather strange, horrible, one might even say cruel attachment to you. He tries to get your attention by inflicting pain on others. Tearing someone else's flesh, pulling out their insides and laughing and laughing and laughing... While you're crying your eyes out. He loves to look at your tear-red beautiful face, at your frightened crystal-clear eyes full of innocence and submission. His affection goes too far, for he has no personal boundaries. He's an unfeeling demon who wants to make others suffer and obey him.

Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?

Very, very messy. No matter who makes an attempt on your life, he will tear to pieces absolutely anyone, even his slaves. Xenophanes is a terrible possessor, he won't let anyone take over his toy. Only he can do with you what he pleases. In his world all things must be as he wills, for here he is Father, Son and Holy Spirit. In his domain he is God, the Dark Master of souls.

Cruelty: How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?

Always, after a human enters his world, the evil spirit takes a closer look at them. He studies their behaviour, their habits, their secret fears buried deep in their soul. Once he has enough information, he begins to act.

What about you, he discovers that you fear Death. And so he gets you into deadly situations that (without his help) you wouldn't have gotten out of alive. At once you stumble and fall straight into a fiery lava before he turns the boiling pool into bloody water. Barely out of the river, you were shaking like mad, you were on the verge of a nervous breakdown. And he took enormous pleasure in knowing that he now knew which buttons to push to make you weep.

Darling: Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will?

He would like to feel close to you. To touch your body with his huge, sharp claws, leaving bleeding scratches on it. He would have wanted to make you scream in fear and overwhelm you with strong emotions as you hung on him like a plush doll, begging him to stop. But he wouldn't listen to you. His desire, his passion, his lust for you was too great. He wouldn't listen to your pleas to leave the poor people he tormented alone at all. After all, that's how he wanted to show you who's the Master here. Who is the puppeteer and who is just a mere puppet.

Exposed: How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

Although the demon is quite aggressive and fierce, he never shows you his positive emotions. Simply because he's incapable of it. He was born in a cataclysm, in a massive explosion. In fact, he was a fatal mistake. And therefore he believes that all feelings other than rage and anger are false. He sees only falsehood and hypocrisy in these kinds of feelings. Xenophanes is very tight-lipped with you, though he does not neglect to show you all his hatred lurking in his dark and gloomy soul.

Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back?

The fiend is used to people's futile, totally useless attempts to fight back. He feels an incredible superiority over all living beings. He is dark matter, an evil spirit, a numen. And people... They're just flesh and blood. This is why he is perfectly calm when you try to fight him, when you tremble with fear, though you try very hard not to let on that you are pretty afraid of your tyrant. However, he feels everything and understands everything. And so your defenceless appearance turns him on incredibly well, and he even allows you to step outside of his deadly game. But when you go too far, that's when he goes berserk with rage. You can step right and left, but there's no way he's going to let you cross the line, which is to run away from him for the umpteenth time. He wants you to be with him as much as possible so that you can never leave him. After all, you cannot die twice. You cannot escape from where your home is now.

Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?

Heck, it certainly is. His attitude towards you is just a game, and the trials prepared especially for you are an element of it. You are his favourite puppet, which he controls like a skilled puppeteer. Pulling strings, forcing you to move your limbs, obeying him. And puppets cannot rebel against their Master. Simply because they would immediately be brutally suppressed.

Once, while playing with you, when he grabbed you, holding you in his sharp, knife-like claws, you began to break free, sobbing and screaming pitifully. At that moment he just laughed eerily and ghastly and horribly. His laughter made your blood run cold, and it pained you intensely that he saw you as little more than a mere toy that could bore its owner at any moment. A toy that he could tear into a thousand little pieces.

But when you plunged a bone you'd picked up from the wreckage of a poor man who was already dead into his forehead, he was stunned. He was stunned that you hated him, even though he himself had done absolutely nothing to make you change your mind about him. He felt a very real rage, showing his volcano-like wrath. It's an experience you'll never forget. One second and you staggered and shrieked and touched your face, the red liquid spurting from your face. From his incredibly sharp dagger claws ran scarlet hot blood. Two pairs of deep wounds flaunted indifferently on your face.

A hypocritical game, a hypocritical player. It's payback for disobedience.

Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?

To tell the truth, absolutely everything about your tormentor was a living hell. You were scared to death of his eyes, full of hatred and indifference to all living things. His gaze inspired nothing good, his gaze destroyed hope as soon as it appeared. You were frightened by his slaves, disgusting and vile creatures who behaved as Xenophanes himself wished. They were echoes of his warped imagination, his corrupted picture of the world.

But there was something else that scared the hell out of you — his transformation into a crystalline form. You were sure he had done it on purpose in front of you to frighten you. You watched in utter horror as his arms stretched out, like snakes ready to grab their prey. You watched his torso stretch out too: he was literally hovering over you, he had to hump hard to grab you. His ribs protruded so much that you feared they would just jump out of his nightmarishly sized body in an instant. His purple needles were like crystals: they shone just as brightly, but there was danger lurking in their beauty; you were sickened by this shimmering acid colour. His huge, enormous jaw with dozens of fangs as sharp as knives were poised to bite your neck, to tear through your flesh. He bared his fangs and extended his bloody claws in the hope of grabbing you.

You would have sworn to God that you would have died on the spot had it not been for the life-saving adrenaline that made you dash away.

Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?

Perhaps he had never given it much thought, for now he was quite satisfied with everything. One of his favourites trembles just from the mere sight of him, and that is definitely what he needs. To know that you obey him, inviolately doing whatever he asks. Watching you cry (for the umpteenth time?), rubbing your tear-red eyes. He loved your helpless look, and that was enough for him.

The future is a mortal problem. There is no time, no space, no boundaries in heaven. There the world is ruled by serenity, stretching and unconcern.

Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?

He gets incredibly furious when you start telling him that this is not your home and he is not your Master. It's not true. It's all blatant lies. He just didn't want to believe it, the evil spirit was incredibly angry that you wanted to trade him for some mortal pleasures. What is it worth to have a family that will be nothing anyway, just because all the loved ones will die one day? What are friends worth who can stab you in the back at any moment, betray you at the most inopportune moment? What is love worth, an arrogant and lousy bitch who thinks it rules the world?

The body is a lie. All feeling is a lie.

He proved it to you time and time again, but you wouldn't listen. He had everything to give it to you, but you didn't want immortality, his endless possessions and his crazy, sick attachment.

You just wanted to get home. To have everything back the way it was.

Kisses: How do they act around or with their darling?

Based on his unpredictable behaviour, you could never predict what he would be like this time. Would he simply laugh in response to your impertinent trick or would he grab enraged you by the throat, squeezing until you were unconscious? It was as if you were playing dice with Death, for there was no other way you could explain the phenomenon.

He was surprisingly gentle once. Before you knew it, you'd cornered yourself playing catch-up with him. He was slow as hell to approach you, as if to mock you and your feelings. You were tired of being constantly in his clawed clutches, for he very rarely gave you an alternative course of action. You sobbed silently: you were exhausted. Closing your eyes, you leaned against the cold tiled wall, waiting for the endless torture. But the very second you felt the hot breath on your body. It was literally burning you with it. The heat filling your chest made you begin to shake. Before him, in this position, you were like a small, weak, defenseless lamb in front of an enraged, cruel and hungry wolf.

Xenophanes did not believe in feelings. But he believes that you would stay with him, for you would simply have no choice.

Love letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?

The Dark Lord does not need to woo you. He'll turn events so that it's you who's after him and his attention. On your knees, begging him to kill you, to finally take your soul and not hurt you anymore. He wanted to make you afraid of him so that you couldn't say a word in fear of him. He was looking for your fears, groping for your deepest hiding places so that at the right moment he could push on your triggers, making you break down. He wanted to know what would happen to a human if they were deprived of everything they held so dear.

Mask: Are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?

For the most part, no. He treats you the same way he treats the rest of his slaves — cruelly and inhumanely. The only thing different about his behaviour with you is that he plays with you otherwise. It is as if he wants to help you, but at the same time he will not lend you a helping hand if he thinks that you are capable of handling his ordeal yourself. For example, as was the case with your fall into the fiery lava. He gave you a clue, turned the situation around and the rest was only on your shoulders.

Naughty: How would they punish their darling?

You consider your worst punishment to be being in his world yourself. Your bloody survival in his endless domain. He punished you long ago, though he doesn't think so himself. Personally, he considers it the best gift heaven has to offer: you can never die again, from now on you are immortal. You can wander endlessly through his domain, he allows you to do so, for everything that was his is now yours too. He lavishes you with his attention, neglecting his precious time which he could have spent conquering another mortal soul. But none of this is necessary for you, and this makes him incredibly furious. And so, enraged, he bares his fangs and growls furiously, making you scream in fear. He grabs you by the throat and tosses you aside. You fall and hit your head: you are knocked unconscious. And he, proud and lonely and exasperated, walks away to leave you with your thoughts.

Either way, you soon change your mind about him. After all, it's human nature to get used to everything.

Oppression: How many rights would they take away from their darling?

Needless to say that he has taken your soul to make you his plaything for all eternity? Perhaps he has taken the most precious thing a human can have, which is life. Needless to remind you that he will stop at nothing until he has broken you, made you fall to your knees and bow to him, telling him over and over that he is your Deity? There is no doubt that he is deliberately taunting you, testing you, trying you out. He wants to feel to the end that bitter, salty taste of your tears, your strong sense of fear and consternation before him.

Patience: How patient are they with their darling?

Frankly, patience is not his strong suit. He is used to getting everything at once, and if one of his wonderful toys decides to rebel against him, he will simply break it without giving it a chance to be rescued.

However, he didn't do that to you at all. Yes, he was angry with you, he bullied you, he tortured you in all sorts of ways. But he would never want you to end up broken in his claws. He wouldn't want you to completely disappear from his sight, for he treasures all his puppets like no other. You are his favourite, a new, adorable toy, with your own peculiarities and charms. He has not yet played with you the way he has with others, and he would like to study you up and down.

But just as soon as he becomes bored with you, he won't hesitate any longer. You will immediately recede into the background.

Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?

It's hard to say what the demon would do. But he knows one thing for sure — he would be incredibly upset if he lost a doll as beautiful as you. It's like a skilled artisan smashing his finest piece of craftsmanship that he has been working on for a long time.

The number of souls he has enslaved is staggering. But he counts each and every one of them, for every soul gives him incredible power and authority, capable of creating entire Universes.

And if he were to lose you, he would be enraged and frustrated. He would lose his self along with you.

Regret: Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go?

It would be a very amusing spectacle if dark matter, already living for billions of years in the Universe, felt guilty for what it had done. Xenophanes has never felt pity for anything, as pity is the destiny of the weak, i.e. of mortals. Hundreds of thousands of souls were already in his possession and he was not going to stop at that. With every day, with every minute, with every second he gets a few steps closer to his cherished goal. And why would he let you go? No, he doesn't. He will never let you leave his Dead Kingdom, he will never take pity on you. Too cruel and black is his nature.

Stigma: What brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)?

Perhaps it is his true nature that has given rise to this cruel side of him. He is a barren spirit, incapable of feeling compassion, pity, longing, much less love, for such feelings are simply unnecessary to him. However, his strong desire to enslave the entire human race, to become the true Ruler of this rotten world, makes him experience the basest and nastiest feelings, namely, pride and greed and anger and envy and lust. It is these feelings that guide his behaviour and make him a monster ready to tear and thrash. He is Lucifer, who has encroached on heaven. He is the Dark God of his dark domain, in which he may one day perish forever. But not now.

Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?

Human suffering, cries for help and tears were like a delight to his ears. He was used to hearing such things, he was used to being frightening. He was used to scaring people to death and making them tremble as soon as he appeared. He was incredibly turned on by your hot tears, your red eyes, your scarlet face. Your defenceless appearance provoked him to do something indecent to you, something completely wrong, as people would put it. He was ready to feel you completely, to explore every inch, every millimetre of your body. He was ready to rip your clothes off and gut your insides in a single moment, but he didn't do that every time. After all, everything sweet is left for dessert, isn't it?

Unique: Would they do anything different from the classic yandere?

One could say that what sets Xenophanes apart from other yanderes is that he approaches everything with a rather pronounced 'childlike' perception of the world. He behaves like a jealous toddler who has seen a great variety of toys. He can't get enough of souls, possessions, much less you. He wants to get to the bottom of things, to go head to head, and he doesn't care about the consequences. Just because he will get away with his cruel behaviour — no one is capable of killing him. Absolutely no one. He is well aware of this, and therefore he does what he wants to do. He says what he thinks. Acts as he sees fit. He plays dice with you, knowing full well that he will always come out the winner.

Vice: What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?

No matter how badly you want to escape, unfortunately, you will never be able to. However, you seem to have figured out (at least found some ways) how you can stop him, if only for a minute.

He was weak before human tears. They aroused him like nothing else, and you were well aware of that. That's why you didn't have to do much of the wriggling, because he did everything for you. He made you weep and squeal and beg for mercy. And seeing how weak and feeble you were before him, his cold eyes gleamed with excitement and lust. For a moment he paused, watching you with fascination. He damn well loved watching people's reactions to his provocations, to his ruthless and bloody actions.

Wit’s end: Would they ever hurt their darling?

Damn it, is it even worth mentioning that your whole life spent in his dark place has been one solid misery stretching into infinity? Every day, every minute, every second you dreaded the unknown, because you never knew what the demon had in store for you this time. It was fucking Russian roulette with the Devil. The death games had bored you to death, you were so exhausted that you didn't even want to guess what was going to happen this time. The evil spirit taunted you every time it got the chance — as soon as he took possession of your soul, he took possession of your body and mind forever.

Xoanon: How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?

He sees in every person a great, magnificent and most delightful toy, a fragile doll with its own history. He is a collector of porcelain dolls, and you are one of his exhibits in his lovely collection.

In a way, yes, he worshipped you. He worshipped you like a puppeteer who was grateful to his puppets for there would be no performance without them. But he was using you to profit from it, namely to gain power, to become stronger.

Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?

Life without you would be possible for the evil spirit if you simply didn't exist. Well, as long as you are in his domain, he will be interested in you until he grows bored with you. Time doesn't exist in his world. So he simply doesn't count the minutes — he doesn't think it's necessary.

Zenith: Would they ever break their darling?

Isn't it obvious? He is doing absolutely everything he can to taste you, to feel you, to find your most vulnerable and sore spots. And then press your triggers and break you. Break you mentally, so that you lose your sanity and don't know where his illusion, his delusion of the senses, and where the brutal reality is. He wants to break you physically: to examine all your contents, to admire it, like a child who has received a cherished toy. He wants to make you his property, his puppet, whose meaning would lie in eternal service to him.

Your life is an eternal performance. His amusement is your eternal suffering. Yet even eternity itself, strange as it may sound, isn't eternal. Everything will disappear one day. Everything will have to come to an end someday.

#sonic.exe #sonic exe #xenophanes #gender neutral reader #reader #fnf #friday night funkin #creepypasta #yandere #yandere x reader #creepypasta x you #creepypasta x reader #yandere alphabet

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whumpy-wyrms · 6 months

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From ask game:3 =

28. Have you ever gone too far? If so, what did you do when that happened?

17. Do you ever feel unwanted? By whom?

15. How do you feel about whumper?

(from this ask game)

28. Have you ever gone too far? If so, what did you do when that happened?

Anton thought for a moment. “…I suppose I may have gone a bit far with the mind control… it seemed to have really messed him up. It was like, like he had lost all hope for a moment there. It kinda showed him how trapped he really was, that he had no control over his life or what happened to him. That I could do anything to him whenever I wanted… It was strange seeing him so scared and compliant, as if his entire mind was taken from him and he was nothing but a hollow vessel to be puppeted around, unable to control his own body… because that’s exactly what was happening to him.”

“…But I only did that to teach him a lesson, it wasn’t my intention to make him so deathly afraid of me and afraid that I’d take away his free will again. The few days after that, he just seemed so hopeless and sad and scared. I didn’t want him to feel that way, I never did. I never wanted him to be that scared of me, I just wanted him to finally be compliant, but not because of fear that he’ll be mind controlled forever. But it seems that’s what I caused him to feel, which means it’ll take me a while to gain that trust back… if it was ever there to begin with.”

17. Do you ever feel unwanted? By whom?

“…Sometimes I used to feel unwanted by my friends,” Dew said sadly. “I don’t think it was ever really true, just my mind making me think things I guess. Sometimes I felt like I was too weird, or annoying, or boring, and that they didn’t really like spending time with me.”

“…But that wasn’t really true, was it? If it was, they wouldn’t have invited me to live with them, or comforted me whenever I was sad, or let me talk about my favorite things for hours on end without getting annoyed. I like to think they like me, maybe as much as I love them. But then… what’s taking them so long to find and rescue me?”

Dew looked away angrily. “At least there’s someone who ‘wants’ me. So much that he’s keeping me captive and not letting me go.”

15. How do you feel about whumper?

“I hate him. I think anyone would, in my situation. Yeah, he’s a maniac who keeps me captive and tortures me and uses me as his lab rat… but he’s also just a weirdo. I don’t mean that in a bad way, I mean, I’m a weirdo. We’re all weirdos, but he’s just… really strange.”

“I guess if I could choose to be held captive by anyone, it would be Anton. At least I know he tries to care about me, even if he’s absolutely terrible at showing it. At least I know he won’t kill me, or anything like that. He seems to have a strange sense of what’s right and wrong, and what’s apparently justifiable because it’s for science. I know he could do worse, he could erase my memories or keep me mind controlled forever, but he doesn’t, for some reason.”

“I guess that’s better than nothing. And he… still treats me like a person sometimes. He gives me cookies and time outside, and talks to me and lets me listen to music now. But I still hate him more than anything, and still need to find a way to get the fuck out of here. But it’s just nice that not all my time spent here is complete hell, because he could so easily make it just that.”

thanks for the ask!

#ask #tllr ask #dew oc #anton oc

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lakeside-paradise · 2 years

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This Wasn't Meant to Happen...

Thanks to @the-mourning-stars for the idea here!! The ending is a little rushed, but I do hope you like what I've done with it!!

Tagging: @deathinmizumono

If anyone wants to be added to a taglist for Whumptober, let me know

Characters: Chūya Nakahara, Dazai Osamu, Fyodor Dostoevsky, Sigma (mentioned), Nikolai (mentioned), Q (mentioned), Ryūnosuke Akutagawa (mentioned), Killua (Mentioned), Bram Stoker (mentioned)

Words: 2,119

Warnings: Major Character Death

Chūya's final move, the ace up his sleeve in any fight, was named Corruption. It was an act of releasing the god of destruction inside of him and allowing it to take full control over his body. And that's exactly what Arahabaki, as it was named, did every time it was awakened. Wary of this unknown power within him, Chūya never used it unless it was absolutely necessary and if he was in the presence of his worst enemy, his partner, Dazai Osamu, who also happened to be the only one who could tame the untamable and sent it back to sleep.

Chūya would destroy, and Dazai would send the beast back to its slumber once the job was complete. This unstoppable duo became known as Double Black, pair never to be crossed, even if you had a death wish. The demise would be slow and severe, the torture endless as the god reigned victorious, until the real monster decided that Arahabaki's vessel had had enough and returned the beast to its slumber. Nakahara Chūya was deadly and feared for all the right reasons, but it was common knowledge that one should fear the easy-going individual with the fake smile more, for he had full control over the state known as Corruption.

Simply put, the god was ancient and far too powerful for such a young man to control. Once awakened, it would reduce Chūya into nothing but a killing machine, a destructive entity who couldn't be stopped, unless by a skill-cancelling ability. And since Dazai was the only one who had such an ability, the control of this young man's life was passed into this irresponsible young fool's hands. For Arahabaki would not stop its rage until the vessel was destroyed as he couldn't handle the unbearable power. If Dazai wanted him dead, he would simply have to remain idle as he watches the god of destruction annihilate its host, shattering every bone in his body, causing him to suffer a slow and painful fate.

It was both a blessing and a curse that the puppeteer was on good terms with this young monster. The blessing was simple: the beast was allowed to live another day, as was the demon residing in him; the curse was knowing that the individual could end his life in a heartbeat. Chūya hated living like that, yet he had no choice. He was nothing but a puppet, used only when immense chaos was needed, and cast aside immediately after, being left to tend to his own wounds, to set his broken bones and try to quieten the roaring laughter of Arahabaki in his ear.

The monster was never quiet, constantly whispering at him to let it loose, taunting him for being such a weak vessel. And as Chūya was not strong enough to silence it, all he could do was attempt to ignore the insults thrown at him throughout the day. It was perfectly manageable. Until Dazai disappeared, leaving him behind in the Port Mafia. Double Black was no more, and under any circumstances, Arahabaki was never to be released, for the host would simply die. The whispers quietened, and finally, for four years, Chūya was able to fall asleep without having the devil whisper in his ears.

Then at the age of twenty-two, he was paired with Dazai yet again for a mission to rescue Kyūsaku Yumeno, a young child who was being kept hostage by the Guild. The task was simple enough, and all went well, until two agents of the Guild appeared to stop them. A beast was awakened, one with enough power to counter Arahabaki. A demon of legends: a Cthulhu. A giant creature created of fern green tentacles. For the first time in years, Chūya heard the cackling of Arahabaki within him. And Dazai tied the noose around his neck, swore the only way to stop this beast was by using Corruption.

The fight lasted mere minutes, but the effect on this young man was awful. He was unable to stand, and Dazai promised that as thanks for defeating the best, he would return him home to the Port Mafia. Yet despite the promise that was made, he was left behind in pure agony, the god whispering in his ear, sounds of the forest all around him. If a hostile being had emerged from the trees, he would be completely vulnerable. There would be nothing he could do to defend himself. It was a simple blessing that the pain passed enough for him to be able to move.

There was another occasion where Corruption was required, but Dazai did not leave him. It was when Tatsuhiko Shibusawa, the cause of the Dragon Head Conflict from years ago, brought chaos to Yokohama. Arahabaki continued to cause chaos until it was stopped yet again by Dazai, but the young man stayed with him, a tender hand on his head, silencing the voice of the beast within him for a brief while. This had happened twice that day. He was peaceful. But nothing could last forever. Dazai left him for his new group of allies in the Armed Detective Agency, and Chūya had to return to being a strong executive in the Port Mafia, an unstoppable force.

Months passed. The Port Mafia was called in to help after the Armed Detective Agency became the enemy of the Hunting Dogs, and for a while, Chūya was too busy to even think about Arahabaki. His priorities lied with protecting the innocent Agency members from both the Hunting Dogs and the Decay of the Angels. And Chūya had a personal score to settle with one of the members of this organisation: Fyodor Dostoevsky, the cause of the Cannibalism Incident and one of those responsible for murdering his former partner, Dazai Osamu, the reason he had to awaken Arahabaki.

Dazai Osamu was brought back to life, yet was currently trapped in the same place as Dostoevsky, courtesy of the Hunting Dogs: Mersault Prison, a high-security structure hidden in Europe, the exact location reminig undisclosed. Chūya made it his mission to discover where they were both hidden. He would be able to put Arahabaki to rest permanently by destroying the only thing left that he believed he had to.

And then everything changed. Two members of the Decay of the Angels, Bram Stoker and Killua, released an ability that was both deadly and terrifying, bringing the dead back to life and changing those living into vampires, mere puppets of the pair. A close friend of his, Ryūnosuke Akutagawa fell victim to the curse. Losing all sense of frienship and humanity within him, he did the same to his teacher, Chūya Nakahara. This young man was now without a doubt a monster, who was supposed to know nothing but destruction.

But that was what Chūya was used to every day. Arahabaki protected him from losing the little humanity he had left, and he was able to find other vampires, those who knew where Dostoevsky was being held. They trusted that he was on their side, and he was sent to Mersault to release the devil. He tore guards apart with his ability while Arahabaki roared encouragement from the blackness of his mind.

Dazai, Dostoevsky and an additional member of the Decay of the Angels were completely unaware that he was still clinging onto his humanity. Not even Dazai could predict that Chūya was out there to murder the one he was sent in to free. He played along with the game set by Gogol, the one who started the war with the Hunting Dogs and the Armed Detective Agency in the first place. He was meant to help Dostoevsky escape the facility before Sigma helped Dazai.

The plan was easy. Dostoevsky seemed to know where he was going, and Chūya followed along behind until they reached an empty room, and Arahabaki had had enough of Chūya stalling. For once, the vessel agreed, and he lashed out with his foot, applying extreme gravity as he kicked the demon's stomach, sending him crashing backwards into the opposite wall. It was all too easy. The monster was unresponsive, but Chūya still approached slowly, cautious of his tricks. No answer.

He reached out slowly, but Arahabaki screamed in his ear to pull back, and heanaged to get away by a mere hair's breadth. Dostoevsky had reached a hand out, and if he had been later by a millisecond, Chūya would have fallen victim to the ability Crime and Punishment, one that was just as destructive as his own. Dostoevsky stared back at him with a demon-like grin, blood dripping from his mouth and nose. It was a struggle for him to stand, yet Chūya did not stop him. It would be an all-out war now, where neither could touch the other. There was no way for Chūya to win, not now. The element of surprise was gone, he was now unable to touch Dostoevsky.

And then, with a jolt, he realised that there was indeed a way that he could win. But the risk was impossibly high, and there was no guarantee that he would survive. What other choice did he have? With a smile that would scare the devil, Chūya tipped his head up to the ceiling, a small incantation resembling a lullaby was released. "Oh acquaintances, grantors of dark disgrace... do not awake me again..." There was no wind in Mersault, and yet Arahabaki created its own storm, the ground beneath his feet cracking and distorting, a vicious laugh escaping him as ruby red runes spread out over Chūya's arms and face, his eyes turning to an empty white.

Dostoevsky could only watch on as Arahabaki increased the gravity of the entire room, the structure shaking with every step the beast took towards him. There was not a single ounce of sanity in those cold eyes, not a thought as the monster prowled towards him, a pitch black ball of pure gravity forming in his hands. A single direct hit from one of those orbs would surely mean death.

Dazai was watching from the control room, a dim sense of horror growing inside him as he saw the events play out. Chūya stepping towards Dostoevsky, a deadly cackle escaping him as he stalked over, teeth bared as he paced towards him, blood already dripping from his mouth. He turned to Sigma, face pale, taking a shuddering step backwards, turning away from him with a shiver. Never before had this expression been seen on his face. Dazai hastily left the control room, breaking into a run as he raced to where Chūya and Fyodor were, pushing the door open, needing to throw his entire body against it from where Arahabaki's gravity had slammed it shut.

He quickly took in the scene, the mere seconds he had missed. Dostoevsky was on the ground, unmoving. His features were unrecognisable, his face covered in blood. His left arm had disappeared under a huge chunk of the wall. Arahabaki stood in the middle of the carnage, howling with laughter as he looked down on Fyodor's body. Finally, Chūya had accomplished what he needed to. Or as he thought. By some miracle, the demon was still breathing, and Dazai couldn't help but sigh in relief. He wanted to kill Dostoevsky himself, but he also didn't want Chūya to feel guilty for his death after. Dazai smiled thinly as he stepped forwards towards Chūya and clasped his raised arm, wincing as he heard the bone in his wrist crack. But that nothing compared to the look of horror on his face as the runes didn't retract, his eyes didn't return to blue.

Arahabaki turned to Dazai slowly, lips curling into a grin as he gazed at him. The puppeteer who was certain of everything had come to a conclusion of why his ability hadn't worked. Chūya must have been killed by Arahabaki. The only thing left was the god.

"This wasn't supposed to happen..." His voice was scratched and filled with sadness as he looked down on the creature that once his friend, the man he despised with his entire being, but was also a source of entertainment from him. And when Chūya Nakahara was around, how could Dazai be bored? How could be lonely?

There wasn't even enough time for Dazai to step back or find cover. He was certain that death would come to everyone in the prison. His only hope was that someone would finally stop Arahabaki, to defeat him before the world was destroyed. Dazai Osamu was disappointed that he wasn't able to die by his own hands, but he had enough time to decide that being murdered by his best friend wasn't actually a bad way to go.

#ember writes #bungou stray dogs #bsd #bungo stray dogs #bsd chuuya #nakahara chuuya #bungo stray dogs chuuya #dazai osamu bsd #bungo stray dogs dazai #dazai osamu #bsd fyodor #bsd fyodor dostoevsky #bungo stray dogs dostoevsky #my work #my writing #whumptober 2022 #tw death

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skydarkin · 9 months

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what a ridiculous question. the protector knew why he was here. it had to know.

a better question would have been why aatrox bothered to speak to the apect, why he was met with inquisition and not violence. the darkin wasn't absolutely sure of this himself ; logically, he should have struck the mortal vessel down before he even knew he was there. that was the wise thing to do, kill the god before he could be aware of the blade, spoke a voice in the back of aatrox's mind -- before he had the chance to retaliate, to seal us away again.

but this was the voice of a coward. this was fear, the cries of a panicked mind subjected to an eternity of torture. nothing terrified aatrox more than the thought of even a moment more of that suffocating nothingness, the crushing weight of a soul too powerful to be killed reduced to immaterial abstraction.

aatrox was a warrior, and he would face all of his enemies head on, even when fear wracked him to his very imprisoned soul. more than that, though, he needed to speak the words ; to ask, even if it fell upon deaf ears, what sense there was to his great suffering. perhaps he hoped that the protector would tell him that there was no reason, that the infaliable aspects of mount targon had made a mistake -- perhaps he needed to hear this, that his great and terrible sorrow would cease in the face of some catharsis, even if for a moment.

what a great and foolish hope.

aatrox inhales the cold air around him. he feels the shock as the icey breath fills his stolen lungs, and revels in the sensation of heat leaving his nostrils. it was a stolen, mockery of life, but a reminder nonetheless. he would let nothing take this from him again.

aatrox raises his great blade, the material reflection of his soul. though it carried the great weight of both iron and the terrible metaphor of its existence, the proud warrior bore it in a single hand, pointing the god-killing edge towards the protector's mortal vessel. when aatrox was sealed away, the aspect he had proudly represented ceased to be, becoming an unknowable, infathomable concept even to mortals who once worshipped him. by this blade, he would do the same to all of the gods of targon, until their great and proud lineage was nothing but ash to be worshipped by an extinct spieces.

how aatrox had missed war, mighty pantheon who faced him twice on the steppe of targon. that aspect cared little for his vessels, using them as mere puppets to focus his wrath. in this vessel, aatrox could see the sickening glow of humanity present behind its eyes. he could see judgement in those eyes, and he could see pity.

he would gouge them out before the vessel died, he decided.

" You know why I'm here, Protector -- " his voice was mighty, but in some subtle way it trembled, shaken by the depth of sorrow in aatrox's thought. " -- and you know that you will die, along with the rest of the world. Be grateful ; Though I will kill the world you love so much, you won't live to see it die. " @prtector

#prtector

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swtorramblings · 2 years

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Masks-5: New Growth

Farmer Vaylin by @fleeting-sanity. And she didn’t even use the ashes from Voss. Yet.

Chapter List

She felt it again, the pull. The call to rest, to know nothing. The dirt, waiting for her flesh. The Force, waiting for her spirit. The dead, her dead, staring with vacant eyes, their emaciated hands clawing at her, trying to drag her down, to make her one of them.

Worms and rot, trying to reclaim what was theirs. It all swirled in her vision, and in the center? Her brother, holding out a hand. Beckoning. Telling her it would be all right. She pulled her fingers from the soil, the last of the seeds planted. She had wanted to do this by hand, to be connected to the life she had returned to, but all she had felt was death. The things that had decayed to replenish the soil, the piled corpses that her plants would grow from. That’s where she should be, down there, feeding some new life, her tortured existence hopefully nourishing something new. And she would. Some day. But it would be on her terms, by her choice. They would all just have to wait. She stood, dusting off her hands and her pants legs, surveying the small farm. She smiled a bit. They’d called her an animal, a depraved monster, capable of nothing but violence and destruction. She didn’t even disagree, not really, but she still took pleasure showing she could be something else, if she wanted to be. She realized she was spinning her souvenir from the battle in her hand, her index finger hooked through the eye of Nihilus’ broken mask. She had taken to doing that to help her focus. Also to distract herself at times. It was also a comforting relic of what happened to those who tried to use her against her will. “Hey,” Kira said, and a towel hit Vaylin in the face as she turned. She glared at her keeper for a moment, then used the towel to wipe off the sweat and the dirt from her day’s work. “Why do you test my patience?” The Jedi grinned. “To see if you have any.”

Former Grandmaster Satele Shan woke from the medical coma. She stretched out with her mind, feeling her broken body, the body she had abused with a dark trick to stay in the fight. Wielding it like a weapon, like a puppet. Feeling the taint of her own corruption. She wondered if she should have let go. Could they have won without her? Had her pride driven her, instead of the needs of the Force? She had been so certain she was still needed. Had she clung too hard to that belief? It didn’t matter. She had done what she had felt was right. To dwell too long on her actions would just be another form of attachment. To view them as entirely one thing or another was just another absolute. And she had lived. She would make of that what she could, whatever the struggle.

While she had been unconscious, Theron Shan had called in favors, pulled together some of the greatest medical minds the galaxy had to treat his mother. He wasn’t sure she would approve, and decided that he basically didn’t care much. She had helped to save the galaxy, and paid for it. He would see that she got whatever care she needed. If she woke and said she didn’t want this, he would try to respect her wishes. Until then, he would help however he could. He turned back to tallying the dead. Some, like Jadus, were no loss to the galaxy, but they had still fought for it to the last. He would note that in his reports. He had more mixed feelings about several Alliance members, like Kaliyo and Rusk. Risha hit a bit harder, her last words recorded as her ship flared out of existence over the battlefield. So many names, many he didn’t know. He leaned back and rubbed his eyes, the memorial announcement nearly done. There was one that he knew would not be missed, though. At one time, he would have toasted his ending. Now, though, he couldn’t yet bring himself to be rid of him. “You have dwelt too long on the dead. Perhaps we should go to see to the living,” said Arcann in his mind. “Yeah, I need a break. We can go check on Senya, see how she’s recovering.” “Thank you.”

#Vaylin #Satele Shan #kira carsen #Theron Shan #MasksSWTOR

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yourneighborhoodneighbor · 10 months

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cuddles? cuddles

(masterpost to my fics while ao3 is down) AO3

fic under the cut

Bucky had really thought being kidnapped, tortured, and brainwashed by an evil organization and then serving as a highly efficient killer for decades for said organization would be the hardest and scariest thing that ever happened in his life. Maybe only topped by breaking through the aforementioned brainwashing and breaking away from his previous evil employers—if they could even be called that.

But no.

His life could not be that easy.

It had started when, after a good few months of running and hiding and the worst case of a foggy mind bucky remembered having, half mixed in with memories he couldn’t properly remember, one of his, no, one of the Soldier’s handlers had found him, cornering him and saying those words that made his body lock up and his mind go to sleep usually only to wake up to blood, if he woke up at all.

Except this time, instead of blood on his hands and time lost, he, Bucky, James, had woken up almost immediately to a small person, a child, talking too fast for his rebooting mind to comprehend, waving around with his hands and looking worried for him.

It had been decades since anyone had worried about Bucky.

A look around had revealed his handler unconscious and tied up in white. A deeper look had provided him with the blood he had been expecting, except it hadn’t been on his hands, it had been on the boy.

Bucky had been a goner from that moment on.

He remembered vaguely taking the child—too small, too small, and hurt—into his arms and running away, his mind focused only on helping the child.

Peter, as he had later learned, had told him that he had spent the whole time murmuring reassurances and making cooing noises while running to his then current small and quite frankly deplorable apartment to clean up his wounds and bandage them.

The kid had then decided he liked him—what?!?!--- and declared that since he, the child, was currently homeless and Bucky had already seen his powers anyway (not that Nucky had noticed, with how worried he had been for the kid-) he would now live with him.

And so Bucky became a dad.

That. That. That was the hardest and scariest thing that had ever happened in Bucy’s life.

He hadn’t been ready to be a father! He could barely take care of himself, much less a homeless enhanced teenager!

And yet.

Bucky could not let the kid go. This child was his now. He would sic the Winter Soldier himself on whoever so much as tried to hurt or take away Peter. And he would not even need someone to activate him for it.

So no, Bucky did not know what he was doing, he was freaking out constantly, and would have a heart attack one day from the sheer audacity his kid had to go and take on a whole ass Hydra base on his own “because they hurt my dad!” (And no, Bucky had not cried when that had been the first time Peter called him dad. He had not!)

The kid had been super grounded for that.

…

And he had also gotten extra coddles.

Sue him, he was soft now. Anyone would be, with Peter for a child (he had a child! of his very own! and it was the best child ever!!).

Anyway, that was then and this is now, and now his kid is missing.

Missing, gone, not where he should be. Bucky was freaking out. He was freaking out Majorly.

He had run around all the spots he knew Peter could be, all their bug-out meet spots (in case anyone ever came for Bucky and they had to run), and had started running around in hopes of catching a glimpse of where his kid could be.

It was as he was rounding a corner that he finally caught sight of Peter. ANd his vision went red.

Peter was on the floor, visibly drugged out of his mind, and absolutely covered in blood.

There was so much blood.

For once, Bucky was in complete control and with a fully clear mind when he tapped into all the know-how he had that made up the Soldier. For once, he was not a puppet, but the master of his own thoughts and actions. For once, Bucky chose to use all the carefully crafted violence that was always dormant in his body for himself, for others.

The men who were hurting Peter were dealt with swiftly, and without remorse. Bucky only didn’t kill them because he knew Peter would feel bad, the kid really was too good for this world.

Peter was good, and if the world refused to treat him as he deserved, Bucky would bloody and dirty his hands to shake the world by its throat until it coughed up what Peter needed. And what he needed was to be safe and happy.

The trek back to their home—a better apartment, now that Bucky had a job to help support his son— was reminiscent of the time they had met, with Bucky holding Peter close and whispering soft reassurances into soft brown locks.

Between the whispered words Bucky promised he would always, always, come for his son.

- - -

Peter woke up disoriented and afraid. The last thing he remembered was walking home (he had a home now! and a dad!) and then his spidey-sense screaming before something pricked his neck and he fell.

There were some vague memories of being dragged away and then hurt again and again and again and- and then his dad’s voice, whispering in his ear, and his dad’s arms, holding him close and safe. So safe.

He jumped up, unsure if he had just imagined his dad and he was still with whoever had taken him, just to almost fall right off the couch. Only a pair of familiar strong arms stopped him from flattening his face.

“Hey, hey Pete, it’s okay, you’re safe now, you’re safe,” came his dad’s voice from a bit above him. Peter could feel the way his chest rumbled with the words. Peter loved pressing his ear to his dad’s chest when they cuddled and hearing his heartbeat or the soothing rumble he felt when his dad hummed or said words.

They weren’t cuddling right now, though, he didn’t think.

“No, Pete, we’re not, but we can, if you want to,” his dad said. Had he read Peter’s mind? He never mentioned he could do that. A soft chuckle interrupted his thought.

“Nah, this old man can’t read your mind, you’re just a bit out of it right now. You said your thoughts out loud,” he was informed. Huh. Why would he be out of it right now-

Peter jolted right back into the couch cushions. The people. The people who hurt him. The prick on his neck- those had been drugs, they had to be. He was drugged, and hurt, and taken away, and what if never got to see his dad again-

His face was gently cupped between two hands—different temperatures, his brain noted, he knew these hands— slowly guiding his head somewhere solid but soft. A chest. There was a heart, so this was a chest. The soft vibrations that accompanied words tickled his ear. This was not a chest, it was his dad’s chest.

Trying to focus on the heartbeat and the rumble, he slowly managed to get his breathing to slow down. He hadn’t even noticed it had sped up.

“-at’s right Peter, it’s me, I’ve got you, you’re safe now, I’m here, I’m sorry you got hurt, I’m sorry I wasn’t there sooner, you’re safe now, we’re safe now-” Peter’s hearing tuned back in to his dad softly murmuring words into his hair as he rocked them both back and forth.

“Dad?” his voice broke. He picked up his previously limp arms and held his dad back tight. He was scared. He knew who could make it better though, he always made it better.

“I’m here Peter.” His dad held him even tighter. Maybe his dad needed Peter to make it better too. Peter was scared, and that probably meant his dad was scared too. He was nice like that, he cared about Peter and worried about him, and he got scared when Peter got hurt. Peter didn’t remember the last time someone had been scared for him. He liked it. Well, he didn’t like it, actually, he didn’t want his dad to be scared, just like his dad didn’t want him to be scared. It was ok though, they could help each other not be scared anymore. They were good father-son duo like that.

With all the courage he could muster, Peter took a deep breath and looked up.

“Dad, I’m scared. I was so so scared. But you’re here now, and I know you will make it better. So I wanna make it better too and so you won’t have to be scared anymore either, m’kay? We can help make each other be not scared,” he stated with as much seriousness as he could.

His dad looked at him with eyes full of love, letting out a wet chuckle, tears pricking his eyes but a smile on his face.

“Yeah, Pete, that sounds like a good plan. We can help each other not be scared anymore.”

Peter nodded his head and stuck out his hand for a shake. His dad took it.

“Cuddles, then,” he said, face mockingly serious. His dad responded in kind.

“Cuddles.” A firm shake of their hands.

They spent the rest of the day cuddling and lazing about, only getting up to eat dinner (Bucky would never let his kid go hungry, if he had choice in the matter) and then moving from the couch into Bucky’s bed. for more cuddles and sleep.

Peter’s life had been hectic, with Spiderman and school and homelessness and previously foster homes. And it was still hectic, to some degree, but ever since he had found his dad and inadvertently saved him and then been saved in return, he felt like no matter what happened, no matter what life and the world decided to throw at him next, as long as he had his dad, he could do anything. he could conquer the whole world.

The father and son fell asleep that night with smiles on their faces and love in their hearts, holding each other close and feeling each other alive.

Nowhere was safer than in their little home.

#mcu #bucky barnes #peter parker #dad bucky #fanfiction #my fics #yourneighborhoodneighbor

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wearycopiedwizard · 1 year

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Fullmetal alchemist kinda has a weird turn when it comes to the themes attached to chimeras. In the first half of the story, it shows chimeras as having a physically and mentally torturous experience, but as the show moves on we meet chimeras who are less broken in that sort of way, but still live a pained existence because the state has denied them the ability to return to their previous lives and uses them as disposable tools. In fact every chimera before this was also a tool made by someone in power with little regard for them as anything other than a tool. This is a shift from a "this is wrong because you are playing god" to a "this is wrong because you are actively degrading the living creatures within it to be a tool".

As a chimera myself (although often human passing) I think I have something to say about this. Before my first two selves were melded, I was was a raven who lived as ravens often do, scavenging socializing, raising my children etc. But I was also a human, and honestly one that was much too full of itself. My human part decide that it would be great if humans could adopt the best traits of animals. It had a lot of respect for the idea of life, but absolutely no respect for the life that lived in front of it. Of course its superiors saw this, and denied it its subjects. This is where my two parts met, my raven self was so scared of my human self, so when the two joined the human's ego died upon realizing how self centered it was, how much it had hurt it's new half, what life and freedom it had taken away from it for its sole benefit. Many of my magical discoveries where driven by the desire to undo myself, but I eventually learned that I couldn't. And I eventually accepted it. In the couple hundred years since I have met my other parts, and have joined with them cordially. My wolf self was dying on the side of the road, wanting to live just a little bit longer when it met my other parts. My spider self lived in my study for a while, and wished to understand things on a greater scale. The ameoba had great intelligence, yet no way to perceive the world. The joining with my lizard self was honestly an accident, but i didn't take long to appreciate the merge, hard scales and regeneration might not seem like a fair trade for warmth, but warmth is very nice. Oh, I got carried away reminiscing. What was my point? Ah, well the tragedy of chimeras is that multiple lives become collapsed into one two potentials, two sets of infinite possibilities become one. The guilt I felt for doing it once was great, but I learned that it wasn't so bad. However merging two others together as a tool is worse than what I did, i have always been binding my own fate and have always been merging perspectives, gaining greater understanding, people who merge creatures to anything other than themselves learn nothing from it, they are just making tools out of living flesh and bone, not to mention the mass use of enchantment spells to control the chimeras against there wills. Why the hell Is this more acceptable than necromancy that simply puppets bones as tools? Well, probably optics. Anyways, FMA brotherhood is a good show has some good pondering about chimeras.

#wizardposting #fma brotherhood #post that got out of hand

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hylian-faith · 2 years

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I will never understand Christian hell. We're alive for an average of 80 and some odd years, yet if we don't believe in the one god out of a countless number, we are tortured for eternity? Being raised Christian, living that life for 19 years of my life has taught me that hell, the teaching of it and teaching how to avoid it, is simply a fear tactic. Anyone with basic knowledge of the Bible can read an original translation and realize hell is only a metaphor for what we bring ourselves. Yet the Christian church have actively decided to twist it and turn it into a way to scare people into converting to their beliefs.

The thing that baffles me is they'll advertise their religion as one of love and acceptance, yet. The way to salvation is accepting a guilt trip tactic, accepting that we're disgusting maggots, and believing a place of true and eternal damnation exists for those who weren't good enough. All my life I was told "Oh you need to be saved because Jesus died for you" so his death was only used to guilt? Him dying had absolutely no meaning other than to force the church to gain more followers? It had no deeper levels then that?

The people in this religion are blind sheep who will listen to deception and lies painted over with beautiful colors and hymns, and not even question it. They'll willingly give an organization their money, to build other organizations, and not even ask why they're doing it. They encourage blind faith and to devote your entire life to a god who's original goal in creating this earth was to have blind followers who knew not of good or evil. The only reason human beings have freedom today is because of Lucifer, yet he's the bad guy?

Lucifer guiding me out of that religion and opening my eyes was truly such a positive awakening for me. I've never felt happier or freer, and escaping that dogmatic religion was probably the best thing I could have done for myself. Because at the end of the day it caters to the weak hearted who are desperate for some good news. They target victims, those who are weak of mind, those who are desperate, and they take advantage of them. Turn them into puppets. I hope someday more people see the true evil of the church, and turn away from it.

#personal rant #satanist #luciferian #demonology #I will always be grateful to lucifer for helping me find my way #christianity

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entoman-created-by-the-tallgreys · 4 months

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Then Again, it could possibly be the fake fog

You see the fake fog was described by the god Zeus as allegedly another deity he doesn't know he actually said that he's not quite sure if it is a deity or not one of the Divine family

But he is sure that it's a severe problem for all deities the fake fog is completely an absolutely sentient and 100% malevolent

It's only intent is to destroy everything in creation

. . .

I sometimes wonder if the fake fog is cancer if you think of God and a Grand Spect of All Thing's !

I wanted to fake fog is like sentient cancer !

Anyway the fake fault does a whole bunch of things one thing you need about the fake frogs is extremely corrupting it's also a complete psychic Elemental

Not an Elemental That is Psychic, No, it's made entirely out of Psionic Energy, aka Psychic Energy !

. . .

I've talked much about this piece of fucking shit but to make things even more deep I thought I let you God damn know this thing has a long list of powers and I only learned about these Powers as I suffered it and figured it out as my soul died throughout my life as it drains me it's always draining me with well I like to call them fog thralls

They're like zombified puppets but they are extensions of the fake fog they have no real free will and no real sentiness but they act like they're completely alive but they're malevolent nature is that of an extension of the fake fog itself

Think of it like Possession of a Ghost, or a Spiritual infection Upon Another Spirit

. . .

The fake fog corrupts all things and perverts all things it does not mean Dark, it will make demons act like angels and Angels act like demons

It will turn fire to water and water to fire, but the soul of the creature is not meant to act that way so it's a form of torture, And Soul Damage

The damn thing also is big on cursing the living shit out of Every mother fucking thing in Existence

The fake fog also drives deities completely insane and that sounds like they act like bad but you have no idea by the level of insanity imagine someone doing a lot of asset I mean like LSD now imagine someone smoking crack cocaine now imagine someone crazier than a Looney tune now imagine someone dropping even more acid now imagine them smoking methamphetamine which is a slightly different from crack cocaine, and that's still fucking same compared to how fucked they are

How long does it take fog last here's the paradox of the fake fog

When the fake fog is locked away it exists nowhere in time but when the fake fog is free it always existed everywhere in time ?

The fake fog also drains all power in all energy and all magic of all things even deities lose all their Divine powers and go completely insane sometimes they gain their power back again but their powers gained back only in to where the fake fall can use it to wear deities go against one another for no good reason they're more insane, then I fucking Looney tune !

They are completely insane and they are become extremely malevolent and they seemingly don't know that what they're doing most the fucking time but they're very sure of it at the same time

It drives dead he's insane and eventually they have to try to break away from it cuz they're possessed under control even Zeus is fucked even God is fucked by this thing it makes God turn on his people yes even God even fucking God so this thing must be equal to the level of God or around the same generation of God

The Almighty Creator, I sometimes wonder in these dire times if it's more important to hold loyalty to God or is it important to break loyalty to God, I sometimes wonder that shit ?

See I'm not a human being I'm a fairy and fairy is supposed to love themselves as we love ourselves we love each other, because we are a high mind we're not just a hive

THAT'S, NOT THE FUCKING POINT

I often wonder why I should do in these moments I wonder if I should stay loyal to God and keep doing this sacred chance I came up with in the name of God's glory

. . . . .

Air, Earth, Water, Fire in the name of God there is no Higher !

. . . . .

Either way I thank you whoever you are for reading it to the very end I don't know what's going on a cosmet scale is probably a Divine battle ?

🤷🏻‍♂️

At the end of my life whenever is going to happen I said this throughout my life and I'll say it again I'll be happy when I'm dead but I'm also terrified that I'll be brought back that leaves might need to go into great deep rage against God to want to listen say do ultimate battle with him because his creation it's been a cactus of my ass for a long time

And God shows me no mercy despite I show him nothing but love nothing but devotion nothing but dedication nothing but purity

I always wondered by God gave me the middle finger but then again every time the gods acted insane they always have to fog around them or they had a bit of a foggy aura or they had fog in their eyes

Either way I don't know why I have to keep suffering this bullshit when I die I hope I get to fly

When, I finally get to leave this fucking body I hope I truly am done forever

#Paranormal

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borderlinebelle · 1 year

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Clasping my knees, hands, and lids together.

a love letter to me, from me 2023

blog series #1

Dearest Belle,

I’m turning over a new leaf lad. I’ve decided to be less of a bitch. It’s not helping me and plus I can be tough and not bitchy. 🤧 I don’t believe that, but I can try.

The state of things has got me riled up regularly. It gets harder to look the other way when the trains 🚂 all smashed, everyone 🕴🏻🕴🏻🕴🏻🕴🏻🕴🏻 knew it was coming, information is being withheld while lying to the public and creating LESS panic ironically. Disproportionate PANIC to the situation! They take our crumbs of money and viciously pour BILLIONS INTO OUR MILITARY as if they OWN US then allow things like this train 🚂 to happen. Military, Government, FBI, Police all Fucking broken ugly elderly cis white men established structures are failing… in real time. Faulty ugly old stupid insane structures that do not work! That’s a difficult truth to look other way on DAILY to do a JOB? For not enough to live money?

I’ve been SAD a LOT … daily. Are you?

I’ve been wearing my nails dark again, biting necks, and dropping my friend Molly off at home way too late in the night. Staying up until 2;3;4 letting capitalism torture kidnapped drag my body into the office.

gif of Elmo, the red puppet character from Sesame Street, burning in a pit of holy fire, arms raised

LUCKILY RELAX… This week feels lighter. I swear.

My nails are clean pure white with a drop of pink blush whispering beneath. My hair is short and my scalp is shivering constantly. I’ve lost us 13lbs.

I can hear the Amazon person delivering my package at 12:14am … because I asked for overnight shipping. He is never here this late. I’ve been added to his route. I cannot recall ever seeing him here and I’m up nightly. I made this man come here. He’s not in bed with his family becaus selfish little monsters like me NEED IT! Need it now.

I summoned him with my portable magic programming box! the one that has become permanently attached to my hand. This man left his warm home …

Inside the box the Amazon person is a protection case for the very same programming machine but smaller, so my child’s hands will hold it with ease. I bought it for them. A little device made by enslaved hands of humans working in inhumane conditions 🙂🤐 same size as my son I bet in some areas. Someone’s little hands created something I’ve bought and that is a fact. A good old American truth.

In the span of my entire existence… I will hold the portable magic programming box more than I will ever hold my own children.

This week is … lighter though. I swear… scroll down so you don’t see Lisa keep rocking. It’s unnerving us both present and future.

Better right! It’s lighter!!! but also always a little darker.

Being so viciously aware so often in life is exhausting and consuming. I wish sometimes I could go back to being completely unaware of that state of things. I’ll be mid-laugh at the office and I’ll remember how much fucking land billionaires have just … purchased for just themselves… or better… their companies to sell back to you one day when rent prices are so high they offer you “luxury” housing (projects) included with your human sale purchase contract for a paycheck to pay your additional bills. All to ensure they don’t have to pay you ANY FUCKING MORE money. They’re enjoying this. They have to be silly with sick satisfaction at the heist…

Fuck.

I’m like having a good time despite .. and because of these amphitheatre apocalypse box seats. I could have been born in some 3rd world country absolutely and truly deeply sickeningly SUFFERING generation after generation. Still somehow continuing to find love and make more generations to suffer.

I’m cynical I know. I’m working on it havent you heard.

A NEW LEAF 🍃

I didn’t get us fired. ✅ I cut off all our hair.✅ I’m on vacation next week - Maybe. It’s Thursday and I still don’t know. It’s 1:27 now. Good golly 4 hours again. When will i combust into star dust and be done with my part in the puppet show.

I’m getting my work done though. I’m pushing through. I feel more organized. I’m doing the work. emotionally and for my company AND within my family with my two boys who are preteens/teens AND with my situationship.

I’m growing within my system and I am evolving and it feels TIGHT but RIGHT

👅😩

We are doing BETTER bitch… or maybe just our best.

Either way, I’m proud of you for not giving into delicious temptations to bad bad retired habits.

Clasping our knees, hands, and lids together just projecting my energy into the timeline you are envisioning as you typed this for us, in this moment.

Enjoy reading this back knowing we came through for us.

2 more work days until vacation 🤧😩🤭 I think … it’s still not approved but .. I wasn’t fired so … 🤷🏽‍♀️

Talk soon. Keep your head up.

Sending you luck and love,

Borderline 🖤

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afewproblems · 1 year

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1 and 3 for Warm my Cold and Tired Heart. Also, I remember reading in the comment section about a possibility of an Eddie pov for some scenes and I'd love to read that if you ever did that.

Thank you so much for the questions! :) I would be happy to answer them!

What inspired you to write the fic this way?

Hmm, I guess I could answer this one in a number of ways! I chose to initially write this story after the boat house scene. My original idea was just to explore the inner thoughts of Steve while this confrontation happened. How did he feel with the bottle pressed against his neck, how would this have affected him afterwards. And then the story began to snowball from there, this original thought became, 'huh, well what would happen if this has happened before? What if they already met? How would this affect the trajectory of the story?'

And boom! More snowballing from there! I also, honestly, wanted to pack as much Whump into this thing as possible for Steve because he is my comfort character and there is nothing more comforting than making your fav go through hell and back before you give them the gift of comfort. You know, as a treat.

3. What's your favourite line of narration?

Oooooo now that one is tough!

I have a few that I quite like, but I was honestly quite proud of the nightmare sequence in the second chapter:

"Billy hisses, his face suddenly inches from Steve's own, up close the fetid stench of decay invades Steve's nose, small movements underneath Billy's skin catches Steve's eye. The bulging puffy skin twitches and bubbles as something slithers underneath. The once blue green eyes have turned grey and flat like tarnished coins."

I like the description and the vague horror of the dead Billy being used like a puppet in Steve's nightmare version of their Season 2 confrontation. He then turns into a demogorgon at the end of the nightmare and goes for the kids.

In my head, I was trying to illustrate Steve having stress dreams induced by this need to take care of others and always be needed or useful in some way. I know a lot of people write about the Russian torture, and I did think about including that, but honestly there is something so upsetting about that fight with Billy.

That one of the worst beatings of his life happened because of another human being in their lives - and Billy was not tied to the Upside Down in any way, not like the Russians were. Billy was just this racist asshole that nearly beat Steve to death and that is pretty awful in my book. I dunno, thats just always stuck with me, that part of the Stranger Things message is that the people in the show can be just as monstrous sometimes as the creatures that come out of the Upside Down, so this was my attempt to bring them together I guess!

And for the Eddie POV for Warm My Cold and Tired Heart, I am still thinking about writing these, I think it would be very cool to see what Eddie thought about the events of season 4, maybe how he felt when Steve caught him at the party with James? Maybe during his first day at home when Wayne makes a comment about Steve's house to Eddie. And absolutely that conversation in the Byers kitchen, I just want Eddie to interact with Jonathan, I don't know why.

I agree with the commenters that pointed out how funny/odd it was that Jon gave Eddie something like a shovel talk. I also thought that would be funny but very sweet, so in it went! (a brief 101 on another part of my writing process!)

I hope you enjoy my answers! These questions were great and really got me thinking!! :)

#afewproblems answers #anonymous #thank you for the ask!#ask games!#fic writer ask games #warm my cold and tired heart #stranger things fan fiction

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fanficimagery · 3 years

Text

Lost and then Found pt. I

Imagine being taken by HYDRA. After years with them, they set you loose on someone you haven't seen in a while. Unfortunately for HYDRA, you weren't as susceptible to their mind experiments like they thought.

Words: 8.6K Author's Note: Major trigger warning! There will be a bit of talk about non-consensual pregnancies and some failed pregnancies from said attempts. Also I didn’t want to post this, but this upcoming week is going to be stressful for me and I honestly don’t know how much writing I’ll get done. Please read the bottom note for help on hopefully part 2 of this.

Tag list: @aya-fay @70s-chic @sipsteacasually @kaitlyn2907 @scarlettwitch99 @thingsforimagination @b1sexualtonystark @living-that-best-life @alexnicolaidisss @l0ve-0f-my-life @eliwinchester99 @mimilh @rosesloml @meredeph @lexy9716

The team had been hanging around various floors of the tower when FRIDAY alerted everyone that they were needed in the meeting room ASAP. And when FRIDAY sounded urgent, the team knew it must be serious. Leaving the gym, Steve and Bucky run into Clint and Natasha who had been coming out of the locker rooms.

"Any idea what's going on?" Bucky asks Nat.

She shakes her head. "FRIDAY wouldn't cough up any more information. I contacted Tony, but he just urged me to get my ass moving."

As they wait for the elevator, the doors slide open and they nod to Wanda who's already standing in the back corner. With her arms crossed over her chest, she nods to each of her teammates as they file in. Ever since she had lost Vision, she hadn't been quite herself and everyone knew to give her whatever time she needed.

In the meeting room, the atmosphere is immediately tense. Sam is at the table and as a testament to how serious the situation is he doesn't even crack a joke the second he lays eyes on Bucky. Everyone takes a seat, with the exception of Tony who's still pacing at the front of the room with a tablet in his hand.

"Tony," Steve calls out. "What's going on?"

A moment passes and then Tony stops at the head of the table, looking up. "This." He swipes up on his tablet screen, sending a video hologram to the middle of the table so everyone can see. "This came in about fifteen minutes ago."

The video plays and the team watches on in shocked speechlessness. The video shows a young girl who couldn't have yet been a teenager be strapped down to a gurney and injected with several different vials. They listen as the poor girl screams and thrashes, and sobs about burning on the inside.

The video cuts out before popping up again and shows the same girl, a little older this time, and having a mouth piece shoved into her small mouth before a contraption is lowered around her head. Eyes dart to Bucky and no one says a word as his metal arm whirs when he watches the young girl go through something very similar to what he went through. As she screams, the video cuts out again yet again.

Everyone had been so focused on Bucky's reaction, that no one paid any attention to Wanda as her eyes widened when the video came back for a third round. The girl on screen is definitely older now, her baby fat has all but vanished, and she looks defeated. Her hair hangs in limp strands around her face and there's a collar around her neck that Wanda knows gives off one hell of a shock to the person wearing it when they disobeyed orders. An older male walks into view and the girl cowers away. She winces, her hands flying up to the collar around her neck. "Begin," a voice then sounds. The male lunges for the small female and she tries her best to fend off his blows, but she ends up beaten and bloodied within thirty seconds. At the end of the fight the man is given instructions and then he walks over to the girl, kneeling down and biting her around the wrist. She screams, the man takes a bullet to the back of the head, and the video cuts out.

This time when the video comes back, the girl looks a little more steadier on her feet and less beaten down. She looks ready for a fight. Towards the end of the clip she has bloodied, pointed fingertips. She's shoved back into a chair and that's when her emotionless mask drops, begging to not be wiped. She screams as they start the procedure and then by the end of it there are no more tears. There's just an emotionless female awaiting orders as the video cuts out.

Finally the last clip shows her fighting like she's been doing it for years, taking down one attacker after the other until she's the last one left standing. There's a sharp whistle and the girl stands at attention, and the video zooms in on her stoic expression before cutting out altogether.

"Who sent this, Tony?" Steve readily asks.

"Don't know. I have FRIDAY chasing an IP address that just keeps pinging in every part of the world."

"Do we even know who she is?" Natasha asks. "And what the whole point of this video was?"

"No. Not a cl-"

"Her name is Y/N." Everyone looks to Wanda who can't take her gaze off her hands in her lap. "She was already there with HYDRA when Pietro and I showed up so long ago."

"Willingly?" Clint wonders.

Wanda shakes her head. "When we had gotten there, she had just turned nineteen. She was already stronger than the average human, but we never truly saw what she could do. She was different." She finally looks up, expression sad. "HYDRA was not all that we thought it would be, but by then there was no turning back. We'd seen Y/N around base, but she was always so stoic and never spoke to anyone. But when we had one on one time with her and the guards would leave us under her care, it was like a switch had flipped within her. She was so much lighter and she spoke to us like we had been friends since we were children."

"Why didn't we find her the first time we met you and your brother?" Tony then asks.

"She had been gone for weeks by then. They told us she was killed on a mission they sent her on, and that me and Pietro were going to be the new fists of HYDRA."

"The last video was stamped a week ago," Bucky says. "HYDRA lied."

Sam huffs. "Of course they did."

"They must have seen you, your brother, and Y/N getting friendly. They couldn't have their best weapons socializing and turning against them," Bucky says.

Clint sighs. "So what's the plan?"

"We get her back," Wanda says, leaving no room for Tony or Steve to say otherwise. "She was forcefully taken, unlike Pietro and I. She does not belong with them."

"It's been years, Wanda," Natasha says softly. "She might not be the same girl you knew."

"But what if she is? She is the only family I have left."

For a long moment no one says anything, so Tony takes it upon himself. "Then we look for her, but you're responsible for getting through to her. She'll only know you, not us."

"Fine."

Steve and Tony talk a bit more about being prepared for when FRIDAY tracks down their target, and then everyone is being dismissed.

Wanda takes a moment, letting everyone get up and walk out first, when Clint walks up behind her chair. Placing a hand on her shoulder, he leans down some to say, "Y/N is not your only family, kid. We're your family too." Wanda's heart cracks just a little and she reaches up to cover Clint's hand with her own to let him know she understands. "Just keep that in mind in case we don't find Y/N or she's no longer who she used to be."

Wanda gulps and then nods. "I will."

Working for HYDRA has been absolute hell. Ever since you had been taken as a little girl you were hell-bent on getting out of there which meant doing anything and everything to be in their good graces. Obviously you didn't learn to do so until you were sixteen and had most of your emotions under control.

They experimented and tortured and even tried their mind wipes like they did on their beloved Winter Soldier, but surprisingly your mind was never empty like they hoped to be. Of course, though, you kept that little detail to yourself wipe after wipe. But after everything that went on while you were in their grasp and after whatever they turned you into, you realized you couldn't quite leave and turn yourself loose on the public while you had no control over what you could do.

So you stayed and obeyed like a good little soldier, and attempted to train their new little puppets. Only being left alone with Wanda and Pietro became the one thing you started looking forward to up until they told you the twins didn't survive one of the trials. You had been heartbroken and devastated, but you couldn't let them see. So you nodded, let them move you to another facility and began anew.

You lost yourself within HYDRA, honing your skills and becoming someone even the other soldiers started to become wary of. The mind wipes became less and less the more obedient you became, but then they had a new mission for you- a mission which made your loathing for them hit an all time high.

You've been sitting in solitary for weeks now, biding your time until you could break free and get the hell out of dodge. All morning you've been antsy and it only becomes worse when you can feel the tension mounting all around you.

The door opens and you immediately snap to attention, but the guard that comes in does not have a lunch tray in his hands. Instead, he has a uniform which he readily tosses at you. "Get dressed. You've got a mission."

You quietly snarl at the guard after catching your suit and his hand immediately goes to the electrical prod at his side. "Careful," you drawl. "You wouldn't want your superiors to find out you injured their most prized possession."

His right eye twitches and he lets his hand fall limp. "The clock's ticking on your life, bitch, and when it's up I'll happily put you down."

"We'll just see about that."

The guard turns around and stomps away so he's standing just outside your door, and you hurriedly strip to get dressed in the apparent new uniform. The material for the pants are thin and fit like a glove, but you've worn these before and you know they're impenetrable to blades. Your boots are standard issued, but the long sleeve shirt- the shirt gives you pause because of the padding that's been added to it.

Once you're dressed and your hair has been tied up, you march up behind the soldier and readily clasp your hands behind your back to await orders.

Emotionless mask in place, you're led out and about the base. Everyone seems to be in a tizzy and the smell of gunpowder and blood is thick in the air. You can hear the gunshots and shouting from behind closed doors several rooms away, and you're not surprised that that's exactly where you're led.

The General meets you outside one room in particular and he dismisses your guard with a wave of his hand. You bite your tongue to keep from smiling at the fact the guard grumbles at being dismissed so easily.

"Ah my dear Y/N," the General coos. "Come. We've got several mice trapped and we need you to rid us of them once and for all." You blankly blink at him, nodding once to let him know you understand your mission.

The second he turns around to enter the code for the room, your shoulders drop just a bit and you attempt to put yourself in the mindset of fighting once again. The door slides open and you follow like an obedient little soldier, only to stop short at the sight of the assembled heroes standing on the opposite end of the room. One in particular stands out, her scent hitting you like a freight train and you have to try your hardest not to show an inkling of knowledge about who she is.

You stand next to, but an inch or so behind, the General's left side with your hands still clasped behind your back and feet shoulder width apart as you stare straight ahead. You're trying your damnedest to focus on the red, white, and blue shield Captain America is holding out before him, and not show any recognition for Wanda who is desperately calling out to you in hopes of recognizing her.

You block out what the General is saying, no doubt gloating about your skills, and zone back in just as he gives what he thinks is a command you're programmed to obey. With your right foot planted, you take a step back with a left and flick your wrists out at your sides so claws unsheathe themselves. You can hear several heartbeats pick up speed and you finally meet Wanda's gaze. She seems to still as you offer her the faintest of grins and send her a wink, only to twist on your right foot a moment later and send your clawed left hand into the throat of the General.

The Avengers all tense and prepare for a battle as the General gurgles on his own blood, and you lean in close to his ear so you can say, "Your first mistake was taking me from my family when I was just a little girl." He tries to pull your hand from his throat, but he is no match for your strength. Growling, you squeeze your hand that's still embedded in his throat. "And your last mistake was reintroducing me to Wanda, and giving me hope." Just as the alarms start to blare, you rip the General's throat out and let his limp body fall.

"Y/N?"

You glance up, smirking at Wanda and her wide-eyed expression. "Hello, little Maximoff." You flick your hand free of some of the blood and then smile at her companions. "Avengers." You nod at them in greeting.

"You remember."

You blink at her, not bothering to answer the obvious. Instead, you can hear walkie talkies going haywire outside the room and you turn around to glance up at the windows where you know others are watching. You mockingly wave at them with your bloodied hand and start pacing in the middle of the room, putting Wanda and the Avengers at your back. Looking up at the window, you let your smirk drop into a scowl. "You think you can take me from my family, torture and brainwash me, and then sic me on the only other family I've ever known?" You yell, seething. Cracking your neck, you let your rage take over and feel the bones shift uncomfortably in your face. Even your eyes burn and you know they're flaring an electric blue. "You're fools for thinking you could control me."

You feel a soft pressure on your wrist and immediately turn to growl at the person who dares touch you, but you lower your head in shame when you see it's just Wanda. She softly gasps and you try to turn away. "What did they do to you?" She asks as she gently grasps you by the chin to make you face her once more.

"What they do best?" You mumble, sharp teeth catching on your bottom lip. "They turned me into a monster."

Wanda's voice catches in her throat, but before she can say anything you're facing the door and stepping in front of her to shield her. Seven soldiers rush in, electrical prods gripped tight in hand.

"Why don't they have any guns?" You hear one of the Avengers ask.

"They must want her alive," someone else answers.

"If you don't stand down, we're going to have to resort to drastic measures," one HYDRA agent says.

"Then resort to them," you growl, "because now that I know Wanda is alive you're gonna have to kill one of us just to separate us again."

Wanda steps up next to you then, hands slowly rotating at the wrists as red energy floats around them. "And trust me, I am not so easily killed."

You can sense the Avengers all stepping into line behind you, but you don't bother looking at them. Instead, you focus on the threat in front of you and the fact they have more people gathering outside once the first line falls. Then from one second to the next, there's a silent command that sends the HYDRA agents into fight mode.

You break off from Wanda, drawing a few agents towards you. Your fighting skills come into play and it's easy for you to either block or withstand the shock of the electrical prods. However, the agents are not so lucky since you're going in for the kill. If you're not kicking in knees and snapping necks, your claws and teeth are digging into throats and ripping out flesh. You're roaring and snarling, and scaring most of the agents you come into contact with, but there are a select few which are all too happy to disobey orders and engage you in physical combat.

You take quite a few hits to the face and sides, and for a moment you're worried, but you have to push through and worry later.

You're not sure how long the fight lasts, but all you know is hat the last agent you claw until he's gurgling on his own blood is the last one to go down. Panting and heaving, electric blue eyes scan the room. All the Avengers are still standing, most of them don't even look like they participated in the fight, but all are watching you with wary eyes.

Wanda steps in your direction and you growl, but then stop the moment her hands go up to show you she means no harm. "It's over," she tells you, her accent heavy and reminding you of so long ago when you first took her under your wing. "If you want to leave, you need to calm down. My team has no idea who you are and you being so hostile makes them nervous."

"Team?" The word rumbles through your throat as your gaze jumps from person to person. "But where's Pietro?"

When your gaze lands back on Wanda, she's smiling softly. But that smile soon wobbles as she shakes her head. "He died a while back. I'm sorry."

You shake your head as you take a step back and Wanda quickly closes the distance between the two of you. She wraps her arms around until you lower your head to her shoulder and you sniffle quietly. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay. He died a hero," she says. "We saw the error of our ways and the Avengers took us in." You finally allow yourself to wrap your arms around her, breathing her in and calming your rage. When you feel yourself sag against her, you finally pick up your head and smile as she runs a finger down the bridge of your nose. "There you are."

"M'sorry."

"For?"

"For you having to see me that way. I didn't even know you were alive and then they just told me to dress and take care of a mice problem they had. I didn't know it was the Avengers."

"It's okay," Wanda assures you. "You did the right thing."

"Um, I hate to break up this crazy reunion, but we need to go."

You glance at the man with wings and nod. "That would be a good idea. They'll send more soldiers soon."

Captain America glances at Wanda. "Get her to the quinjet. We're gonna do a sweep of the base before bringing it down."

Wanda gives him a nod and then she's urging you to follow her. You follow her through the winding hallways and an elevator ride up to the surface, and you huff a quiet laugh when you see the destruction left in the Avengers' wake. Off in the distance there's a jet and Wanda wastes no time in leading you up the ramp, and onto a seat.

"Just wait right here." She rushes towards a door and you're surprised a small bathroom sits behind it. She grabs what appears to be a hand towel from inside and then walks over behind the cockpit of the jet, grabbing a bottle of water from inside a bench seat. Then walking back over to you, she gestures to your face. "You've got a lot of blood."

"Oh." You take the towel and water, and quickly wet the towel to start wiping off your face and hands. There's nothing you can do for your clothes, so you leave them be.

As you wait for the others to return, you fidget in your seat and exhale softly as you catch Wanda's gaze. "What made you guys hit this specific base?" You wonder. "They're usually very careful about the comings and goings so they didn't attract the wrath of the Winter Soldier."

Wanda smiles and takes a seat across from you. "Bucky has been going on a world tour of tearing down HYDRA bases in his free time. We think HYDRA got tired of it and wanted to lure us into a trap, so they sent us a video of you."

You frown. "Why me? And what video?"

"They wanted me to rush in and not be at one hundred percent, hoping I'd make a mistake," she says. "Bucky and Natasha believe HYDRA saw us getting close, so they separated us and told us the other had died so we'd follow them faithfully. And when they sent that video, I was stunned. I wanted to rush in and bring you home, but the team made me take a beat." Having stood up halfway through her explanation, Wanda had retrieved a tablet and tapped away at it. Handing it to you, you find a paused video on screen.

Pressing play, you watch yourself be tortured and experimented on, and taught to kill. You wrinkle your nose at how young you were and how sickly you were at one point until they found a method that took and made you what you currently are. You're so caught up in the video that you aren't paying attention to your surroundings and are surprised to see the Avengers walking up the ramp.

"Done already?" Wanda asks.

"All we have to do is detonate once we're up in the air."

Wanda exhales in relief and you meet the gaze of several Avengers who don't know what to think of you after seeing you rip through the HYDRA soldiers like it was nothing. To break the ice, you say the first thing that pops into your mind. "So that was fun."

Iron Man snorts as he walks on by, heading straight for the cockpit. "Great. Another murder-happy supersoldier."

"Uhh, I'm not a supersoldier," you say. The rest of the team glances at you and you go on to explain. "On the video, you all saw the man bite me. Right?" There are various forms of acknowledgement. "Well that's what turned me into what I am. A bite."

"A bite from what?" Black Widow wonders.

You shrug. "The best I can come up with is a werewolf."

Hawkeye snorts, but at your no nonsense expression he sobers up. "Oh. Uh, those exist?"

"I'm assuming so," you say. "I get extra rage-y during a full moon, so I'll probably have to be chained up when the next one comes around." Wanda looks startled at your confession, but you flash her a small grin. "It's fine. I'm used to it by now."

Everyone takes a moment before either taking a seat or steadying themselves, and then there's lift off. The quinjet rises higher and higher until it hovers mid-air. Captain America walks towards the cock-pit and after giving the all-clear you can hear a distant boom and concrete caving inward.

"Well that's another base down," Captain America says.

Exhaling in relief, you allow your eyes to close and relish the feeling of being free. Your moment of peace, however, is short lived when you feel eyes on you. Opening them, Captain America and the Winter Soldier are sitting across from you now. Wanda has taken the seat next to you and you smile as she lays her head on your shoulder.

"I know you've been through a lot, but we have some things we'd like to discuss," the good Captain says.

You nod. "Ask away."

"They wiped you over and over," the Winter Soldier says matter of factly. "Why didn't it take?"

"I honestly have no idea," you admit. "The first time, it took. I didn't know who I was or where I was."

"How did you break out of it?"

"Something one of the doctors said triggered a memory from when I was younger and it just snowballed from there. I started remembering, but a few months after that I was wiped again. The second time didn't take quite so well, but I still forgot. I just knew there was something missing and slowly but surely it started coming back," you say. "But then after I was bitten, the mind wipes completely stopped working. It hurt like hell and I learned to fake it until I could find a way out of there."

"We didn't find much on you," the Winter Soldier says. "Their computers were already self-destructing, but we did manage to find a book where they wrote down your trigger words. You don't mind if we say them to make sure you're telling the truth?"

Wanda's head immediately snaps up, no doubt ready to tell them to back off, and you grin at her protectiveness. "It's fine." She then turns to look at you in shock and you wave her off. "Honestly, it's fine. They don't work. I should seriously win an Oscar for best actress."

Hawkeye and the Black Widow stand on either side of Captain America and the Winter Soldier, and he slowly reads the words aloud after opening the book. "Blue. Full moon. Bitten. Beta. Wolf. Red."

Everyone seems to hold their breath and the corner of your lips quirk into a grin. "Still doubting me?"

Captain America huffs. "That's unbelievable."

"You've fought aliens and Asgardian princes, Captain. My broken mind should be the least unbelievable thing."

"Steve. My name's Steve," he says. "And you're not broken." Your grin falters as you blink at him in surprise. "And this is Bucky." The Winter Soldier nods at you and you return the sentiment.

"Clint," Hawkeye says.

"Natasha."

"Sam."

"And I'm Tony Stark, but I'm sure you knew that."

"Uh, sure," you slowly muse. When he squawks and turns around his seat, you huff a small laugh. "Of course I know who you are. I know who you all are thanks to HYDRA and their obsession with you. I just wasn't privy to the fact that Wanda was part of the team until now."

They take your word for it and now that with the knowledge that the trigger words do nothing to you, it seems to bring some ease to the group and everyone finally settles in. According to Wanda the jet ride is going to take a bit so you might as well make yourself comfortable.

About twenty minutes into the ride, you shift uncomfortably in your seat. You chalk it up to the fact the seats aren't really that comfortable to begin with, but when you move to stretch your back a little you feel a pang just to the right side of your abdomen. The pain causes you to still and when it lingers you close your eyes to concentrate on your hearing. Unfortunately, the roar of the jet's engines prevents you from hearing anything.

You abruptly stand up which causes every gaze to snap to you, but you pay them no mind. You feel a cramp suddenly take hold on your lower abdomen and you bend at the waist, breathing through it.

"Y/N?" Wanda calls out.

"Something's wrong." With those two words, you feel the tension in the jet amp up. Your hand goes to your side, rubbing there and then following towards the cramp in your lower abdomen. "Something's really wrong."

"What's going on?" She asks.

You whirl around, eyes burning and you don't even care that they're flaring blue at your friend. "Your magic. Can you feel things with it? Or people. Anything?" You ask in a rush.

"I- I don't know what you-"

"Can you feel someone's conscious or whatever! I need- I just-"

"Okay. Okay," she slowly stands up. "I can. Now tell me what's wrong."

You immediately grab her right hand and set it against your abdomen. "Tell me if you can feel anything." Your eyes burn again, this time with unshed tears. "I can't listen for a heartbeat over the jet's engine."

As your words sink in, Wanda's eyes widen. "You're pregnant."

"Holy shit," you hear someone mutter behind you.

"It hurts." You finally allow the tears to fall. "It's not supposed to hurt."

"How- how far along?"

"Three and a half months. Please, Wanda, I can't-"

Without further prompting, Wanda's eyes glow red. You glance down and see her hand glow red as well, her magic then slowly encircling your abdomen. After what feels like an eternity, she slowly smiles. "There it is." Her gaze darts up to you and the red fades away. "I can feel him. Or her."

You choke back a sob, your hand flying to your mouth to muffle it. Wanda immediately embraces you and you sink into the comfort she's offering you. Then after a moment there's a hand on your shoulder that doesn't belong to Wanda and you lift your head up to see Sam.

"Hey girl, mind if I check you out? You fought awfully hard back at the base and given your condition I'd be more at ease if I knew everything was good."

Your brow furrows. "You're a doctor?"

"No, but I've got some training bandaging people up for the real docs. The most I can do for you right now is check for tender spots so I can report back to the doctor at the compound and insert an IV."

You look to Wanda for her opinion and she nods to let you know it's okay. Then looking back at Sam, you nod. "Okay."

Clint immediately pulls down a cot from where it was folded against the quinjet wall and Sam gestures for you to lay down. He instructs you to lift your shirt and you do so, lifting it until it's bunched beneath your bust. "Okay so I already see some bruising."

His fingertips touch the side of your abdomen and you automatically growl. He freezes and you wince. "Sorry. Instincts."

He chuckles. "It's okay. Given what you apparently are and the circumstances, that's to be expected. Am I good to proceed?"

"Yeah." You inhale shakily. "You're good."

Sam continues his brief examination, pressing here and there around your abdomen for any tender spots. You wince at one particular push and he quietly apologizes. When he's done, he leans back. "You're definitely gonna have to be checked out as soon as we get to the compound."

"Understood."

"But I'd like to get an IV started if that's okay. With you being pregnant and under HYDRA's care, I rather get some fluids in you that I know haven't been tampered with."

"Yeah. Yeah, that's fine."

You sit up and Wanda walks over to sit next to you on the cot, taking your hand between both of hers to offer you some semblance of comfort. Steve gets up to go speak with Tony and you ignore the quiet conversation they're obviously having about you. You can feel various stares on you, but you keep your gaze dead ahead and manage to keep from fidgeting or lashing out.

You don't know when, but you end up dozing off against Wanda. Then the next time you're conscious, you're being gently shaken awake and you watch as everyone starts to disembark the jet.

"We're home," Wanda murmurs. "Are you ready for this?"

"Yeah."

Slightly stretching, you're apprehensive about any sort of pain flaring but it never comes. You're thankful for it and then stand up to walk side-by-side with Wanda. Arm hooked through hers, you follow her off the jet and into the sleekest building you've ever laid eyes on. Sam is waiting for you, alongside a woman who smiles kindly at you. She introduces herself as Doctor Cho and you readily follow after her.

The labs make you apprehensive, but Wanda and Sam assure you everything is fine. Doctor Cho has you change into an unflattering medical gown and she talks through everything right before she does it so you're not caught off guard. All in all, being poked and prodded by this woman is a lot more pleasant than when HYDRA's doctors did it.

After a while, Doctor Cho comes back with a tablet in hand. You can see she wants to ask for privacy, but you immediately let her know that you're okay with Wanda and Sam hearing everything. Since you're staying wherever Wanda is, it's only fair the others know what's going on with you so there are no secrets.

Smiling, Doctor Cho glances at the tablet before looking up at you. "So everything seems to be completely normal," she says. Sam and Wanda exhale in relief. "Sam mentioned some bruising around your abdomen when he first walked in, but there is no sign of any bruising whatsoever. You and the baby seem one hundred percent healthy given everything you've through."

"I heal fast," you quietly admit. "I'm not sure why it took so long for me to feel the pain, but I panicked because of the baby and I wasn't thinking straight back on the jet."

"As an expecting mother, it's normal to panic. I had first hand experience with Mr. Stark's wife a few years back. Panicking is normal, but you just have to remember to breathe and take it one step at a time."

"Easier said than done," you mumble.

Doctor Cho chuckles. "Well for the next few weeks, I want you to take it easy. I'm not putting you on bed rest because of your accelerated healing, but I don't want you doing any strenuous activity."

"Don't worry," Wanda muses. "I'll make sure her butt is planted on the sofa at all times."

"Well okay then," Doctor Cho says. "I have some clothes for you if you want so you don't have to get back into that suit."

"I'd like that. Thank you."

"And if you're up for it, I'd like to see you again next week so we can make sure you and baby are still heading on the right track. I'll even order in some prenatal vitamins and a few others that you're lacking."

You nod. "Okay. That sounds good."

Reconnecting with Wanda had been easy. You were happy that she and Pietro got away from HYDRA when they did, even if Pietro didn't get to enjoy his freedom, and she was sad that you had been under HYDRA's thumb this entire time. But a little wine (for Wanda) and a lot of grape juice (for you), and the two of you were chatting like you hadn't missed any time at all.

After that, settling in at the Avengers' compound was a lot easier than you anticipated. Everyone, with the exception of Tony and Clint, lived just behind the compound in a new building that had been erected not too long ago and it was a lot more homely than you were expecting. You had moved in with Wanda for the meantime, keeping to her quarters so as to not step on any toes. But on the rare chance you decided to stretch your legs, you were surprised that the others would cordially start a conversation with you to see how you were doing.

Then after several visits with Doctor Cho where she continued to tell you that you and baby were doing extremely well, Wanda decided to have a family dinner in celebration.

"So who's all going to be here again?" You ask, already looking through the refrigerator.

"Just the usual," Wanda tells you. "I didn't want Clint and Tony to have to drag their families out here, but they do check in every now and then. They're happy you're settling in."

You snort, shutting the refrigerator door and standing straight. "Are you sure that's it and it's not because I haven't ravaged anyone to death?"

"Y/N.."

"I'm only joking." You grin. "Now can you please contact the others and tell them to hurry up? I'm starving!"

Grinning, Wanda takes her phone in hand and starts tapping away. She chuckles at something on her screen a few moments later, but before you can ask what's so funny you hear several individuals approaching. The aroma of the food hits you next and your mouth immediately starts watering. Steve, Bucky, Natasha, and Sam walk in- each and every one of them carrying various bags of takeout.

"Hey Y/N, think you got a little drool there," Sam says, gesturing to the corner of his mouth.

And without missing a beat, you say, "Not only am I a pregnant woman, Samuel, but I'm a pregnant wolf. I will eat you if you don't stop teasing me."

Sam gasps in offence as everyone else chuckles, and then they're setting the food down on the table to start unloading it as Wanda asks you to help her with utensils and drinks. But the second you turn back towards the table and see all the food laid out, you pause and take it all in. And then promptly burst into tears.

Everyone seems startled, but you're quick to get yourself under control. Sniffling and then wiping the tears away, you say, "I'm sorry. It's just that there's so much food!"

Steve is the first to chuckle. "You're crying because there's a lot of food?"

"Well yeah. You brought all this food and you're not expecting anything from me." Steve's smile instantly vanishes. "HYDRA would offer me nice things, but it always came at a price."

Sam whistles lowly. "Well that just took a turn for the depressing." A beat passes and then, "Come on, little momma. Come grab some grub."

Wanda smiles kindly at you and you finish making your way to the table. You end up with her at your side and Bucky across from you, and a table full of food laid out in front of you. Then the second Natasha reaches for pan fried dumplings, you reach for one of the largest burgers you've ever seen and a whole tray of fries. You groan at the first taste and proceed to finish it off in five more bites. You eat some fries and then stare at the remaining burgers with longing.

"Go ahead," Natasha tells you. "We have more than enough."

You sheepishly grin in her direction and grab another hamburger, devouring it without a care in the world.

But then when you eye the sushi and reach for it, you gasp when the chopsticks in Bucky's hand whack the back of your hand. "No. Raw fish is bad for pregnant women."

A growl unconsciously slips free and the whole table freezes. But then the situation you're in sinks in and you roll your eyes as you pull your hand back into your lap. "Then just say so, Barnes. Don't whack me. I'm not a damn dog." You're scowling at him, but then your words sink in when you see the corner of his lips twitch. "Oh shut up."

The whole table laughs and you shake your head, grinning as you then reach for a container of Chinese noodles that smell absolutely divine.

Later, stuffed full and laying across a sofa, the whole lot of you are relaxing as the TV plays some random TV show Sam had put on. A commercial comes on for pampers and you groan. "I am not looking forward to diaper duty."

Wanda chuckles, but it's Natasha who asks, "So you plan on keeping the baby?" You startle at the question, glancing over at her. "I mean everyone just kind of figured you wouldn't want to given the circumstances of when and where you became pregnant, so-"

"No, I get it," you tell her. "When HYDRA first told me the plan of birthing them a soldier, I kind of lost it. I pretty much went feral at the idea of forcefully having a baby." Gulping, you quickly sit up to explain all that went down. "They wanted to breed me," you sneer, "and they had to sedate me for their chosen soldier to just enter the same room." Immediately your nose tingles, everyone's anger wafting off of them in waves. "Unfortunately for them, they forgot to take into account that my metabolism burned through everything ten times faster than a normal human and I came to just as my pants were being unbuttoned. The guy barely had time to smirk before I ripped his throat out. With my teeth."

The men all stare at you in various stages of shock, but Wanda and Natasha both smirk. "Atta girl," the redheaded assassin muses.

"Killing their top candidate was a big upset, so they attempted to wipe me again," you say with a shrug. "But when the higher-ups got wind of an unscheduled wipe, they came down to see what that was all about. Needless to say, they were not impressed with their Doc's breeding tactics. Doc One took a bullet between the eyes and they brought in Doc Two who was a big fan of artificial insemination." Everyone winces. "Pregnancies one and two didn't stick, so they tried pregnancy three with a sample they had in the freezer. I don't know who the father is, but HYDRA was really ecstatic when month three came along and the two of us were still in good health."

"And you're okay with keeping this baby?" Wanda softly asks.

"I kind of have to be. This baby," you say while gently touching your abdomen, "is half me and half someone else who I'm pretty sure is enhanced. Even if I thought adoption was an option, I don't think I could live with myself knowing a piece of me was somewhere out there."

Everyone takes a moment after your story sinks in, thinking about all that you've been while in HYDRA's control. Afterwards, Steve clears his throat. "So before anyone goes overboard with baby stuff, we're gonna have to put you in your own apartment." He smiles when he notices he catches you off guard with that. "No need to overflow Wanda's apartment with baby things when we have plenty of room to spread out still."

"A-Are you sure?" You ask. "I was ready to start looking elsewhere for a place to live, but-"

"No. HYDRA will be on the lookout for you and that baby," Wanda says. "You're staying here where they won't dare to infiltrate."

You glance at each present Avenger, taking in their pleasant expressions and sniffing them out for any hints of deceit. Finding none, you allow yourself to relax and grin. "Okay then. We'll stay here."

Cohabitating with the Avengers is nothing like you expected. Everyone's guard is down while at home and everyone likes spending time together in the communal spaces when there's not a mission for them to be worrying about. Sam especially gets a kick out of seeing how your appetite holds up against the two supersoldiers and he's impressed that you can eat the same amount or sometimes more.

And when the full moon is less than a week away, it's not just you who's worried about it.

Tony flies in when they notice you're quick to anger and they quickly clean out the hulk proof room that hasn't been used in quite some time. Steve and Wanda take charge, asking what would make you most comfortable, and you admit that anything with your scent on it will do. But what catches everyone off guard is that you sheepishly request something with their scent on it as well and you have to embarrassingly admit that it's a werewolf thing. With you spending so much time with them, you've kind of latched on and your wolf considers them yours.

Everyone is game to get you whatever you need and within half an hour they've got your bed set up in the room, and blankets and pillows from those you'd been living with these past couple of weeks. Everyone takes care to not annoy you the couple days leading up to the full moon, and then you're encouraged to go ahead and settle in the room the day you snarl at Tony for making a puppy joke.

Wanda sits in an armchair in the room as you sit against your headboard, talking about anything and everything as you practice some of Bruce's meditation tips. The door to the room is open for now, and every now and then you can hear someone pass by to quietly check in.

No one needs to tell you when the moon's reached its apex because you can feel the change within you. Your breathing becomes a little heavier and your fidgeting is no doubt more apparent. Sweat starts to bead along your hairline and you curl your fingers inward so as to not shred any of your bedding when you feel your claws suddenly elongate.

"Y/N..?"

"Wanda." You inhale deeply and slowly release it. "I think it's time you go."

You hear the armchair creak under Wanda's weight. "What? I can-"

"Go." You exhale deeply once more, slowly glancing up and eyes burning blue. "You need to go."

A growl slips free and then Steve's immediately in the doorway. "Wanda, come on."

Your gaze stays glued to Wanda as she cautiously stands and she smartly walks backwards to the door rather than giving you her back. And the second the door slides shut, you're leaping out of bed and pacing the entirety of the room. Your agitation ends up getting the best of you and you end up ripping your shirt off, thankful that you had been talked into wearing a sports bra underneath.

The walls are opaque, but the second a voice comes over an intercom you're whirling around to glare at the exact spot where everyone is congregated around screens and keeping watch over you. "Y/N, you need to calm down. Your heartbeat is way too fast."

You snarl and a fist flies towards the wall. There's a loud thump, but they put you in a hulk-proof room for a reason. No matter how much strength you have, you won't make a single crack in the glass.

As you pace all around the room, you growl and roar out your agitation.

Fortunately for you, you have a fair amount of control and you never resort to harming yourself. You do, however, tire of pacing and your bed looks all too welcoming. So once you deem it safe enough to let your guard down, you crawl into bed and surround yourself with the various pillows and blankets of your pack.

The following morning when you wake up, Doctor Cho whisks you away for an evaluation to make sure the full moon didn't affect the baby. And once you're given the all clear, Wanda and Sam lure you into the kitchen with a promise of a hearty breakfast.

You're more tired than usual, but you manage to perch on one of the bar stools at the kitchen island, setting your elbow on the island top and setting your chin in the palm of your hand. Wanda starts to slice up some avocados when you notice there's an itch under your skin that's telling you you need to do something, but you aren't sure what. The feeling amps up as the time ticks on by, but before you can get up and start pacing in agitation there's an arm draping around your shoulders.

The familiar scent of Steve overwhelms you and you feel yourself automatically lean towards him. He chuckles. "How are you feeling?"

"Like I wanna snuggle the hell out of you," you mumble. Leaning away from him, you turn on your stool and part your knees, pulling Steve as close to you as possible. "Seriously, just hug me. I need to scent everyone again."

Sam snorts from his spot at the stove and Steve happily obliges you. Your arms wrap around his waist and you lay the side of your face against Steve's chest, a happy rumble slipping free as Steve embraces you back. "I don't know why you're laughing, Wilson. I'm cuddling all of you."

After about five minutes, you let Steve go and you readily drag Wanda into his vacant spot. She laughs, but hugs you back the moment your arms go around her. You shove your face into the side of her neck and you can't resist rubbing your cheek along her shoulders.

Sam ends up getting the same exact treatment right before breakfast is served up and since Natasha isn't really a hugger, she does sit next to you and allows you to at least drape one of your legs over hers underneath the table.

Afterwards, instead of heading back towards the apartment you share with Wanda, you eye Bucky who's sitting on the couch with a book in his right hand. And though he's been perfectly cordial with you since you've been brought in, you knew better than to just approach him out of the blue like you can with Wanda, Sam, and Steve.

Steve chuckles as he sees your hesitance, but he offers you no help in broaching the cuddling topic with his best friend. However, just as you enter Bucky's peripheral, he readily lifts his left arm that had been resting on the armrest. You sigh in relief and crawl in Bucky's lap, sitting sideways and laying your head on his shoulder. His metal arm curls around your back and his hand which he's holding the book settles down atop your knees.

You soak in Bucky's warmth and scent, and before you know it your eyelids get heavier and heavier.

The click of a phone's camera sounds and Bucky glances up to see Wanda pointing her phone at him. "What?" She feigns innocence. "It's adorable."

"She's exhausted," he says. "I'd fall asleep anywhere too if I had to go through what she did."

"I can take her if you want," Wanda says. "Float her on back to our apartment."

"No. It's fine," he's quick to assure her. "I wasn't planning on moving anytime soon anyway."

Wanda nods, hiding her grin as she walks towards the elevator where Steve and Sam are already waiting. Getting in, all three individuals smirk at Bucky cradling a sleeping pregnant werewolf in his lap.

"If she names that pup after Barnes, I'm throwing hands," Sam says.

Wanda laughs. "I don't think she's thinking about naming her child after a man she's only known for a couple of weeks, Sam."

"Well some would think that one would not sleep in the lap of someone they've only known for a couple of weeks, but here we are," Steve then says. "Unless it's a werewolf thing."

Wanda, Steve, and Sam take a moment to think about it before Sam says, "I got twenty that says those two end up hooking up before the baby bump makes itself known."

"What? No way." Wanda shakes her head. "I have twenty that says she's just extra cuddly because she's hormonal and just came down from the full moon."

"Guys," Steve admonishes them. A moment later, he grins. "Twenty says a real attraction grows and those two end up together."

"You're on, Rogers."

Author's Note: So you guys wanna give me baby name suggestions? And gender suggestions?

#avengers imagine #marvel imagine #marvel gen fic x reader #wanda maximoff #steve rogers #bucky barnes #sam wilson #natasha romanoff #marvel #avengers

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