#because i don't understand romantic/sexual relationships at all and i want him to be like that as well

[zaphodbeeblebroxssecondhead]

queerplatonic johnlock is so important to me i don't think you understand

[depresseddepot]

trying to determine which parts of my relationship with sex are asexuality, which are trauma, and which are autism is like trying to have a conversation with three people talking loudly and all at once

[hanasnx]

“ YOU GOT A FETISH FOR MY LOVE, I PUSH YOU OUT AND YOU COME RIGHT BACK ” — anakin skywalker.

MINORS DNI 18+ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ NOTES: if this counts for kinktober, i'm saying the kink is begging. WARNINGS: ex!anakin ノ fem reader ノ mild angst ノ established relationship ノ size difference ノ sexual content: some p in v stuff ノ pathetic begging anakin.

All of your relationships leading up to this point had resolutely ended. There were no loose ends, and nothing worth sacrificing your self-respect for. You'd cut them off, or burn the bridge if you had to, just to ensure you couldn't backslide on your decision. It's an incredible trust to place in yourself, and a little lonely. No matter how much your heart ached for the person you separated from, you would not reach out, and you'd make it pretty clear you didn't want to hear from them either. One exception stands before you now, that familiar crease in EX!ANAKIN SKYWALKER's brow as he demands to be let inside.

"It can't end like this." A statement that leaves no room for argument. One of the reasons you called it quits in the first place is dating a general doesn't feel like dating, it just feels like taking orders. "Do you have any idea what I've done for you? What I've sacrificed?" he admonishes incredulously, taking up the space of your doorway as stand your ground.

"Anakin- leave." you command. You know he's just here to pick a fight, to see if he can break your spirit with guilt-tripping manipulations. It's hard to feel large against a towering figure like General Skywalker, but you're bold enough to try to. Even if he can sweep you out of his way with an arm, you block his entrance with your body.

"You stubborn girl. You don't understand anything, do you?" he spits, the deep lines of his scowl drawing shadows that cascade his expression to a near unrecognizable degree. If you didn't know him, you'd fear for your safety.

"I told you to go!" you cry, jabbing your finger over his shoulder to signal him to turn around.

He advances, forcing you to arch away. "You don't mean that!" His voice is a lot louder than yours, and it carries. The frown in your brow relaxes as your eyes widen in response to his outburst. In a way, it's a keen reading. If it combats the loneliness of your self-sabotaging nature, you wish you'd let yourself invite him to stay. However, your pride has gotten you this far, and you don't want to appear weak. Perhaps, you don't want him to go, but it's the right thing to do.

You've been through so much together, and you're sure that he only holds onto you so tightly because you're all he's ever known when it comes to romantic entanglements. If he had been more experienced when you'd met him, he wouldn't have such passionate outrage about being refused.

He's the only one who's chased you so closely while you ran away. Retreating from intimacy, retreating from love, he's the only one who's seen right through you, and demanded you anyway.

"Anakin, you should go." you whisper against his lips as he backs you up deeper into your apartment. Eager hands curtly whip your clothes from your body, careful not to disrupt the connection of your mouths, recycling breath between you.

"Please, don't say that—You don't mean that." he murmurs, the vulnerability of being rejected laced into his plea. Your hands suspended in air from shock come to rest on his leather padding, helping him out of his robing like you've done a thousand times before. It's like a dance, the way your figures move fluidly, retracing the steps, how he backs you up against the wall as he slips his tongue between your lips, tilting his head to reach you as you're less than cooperative. The taste of him intoxicates you, coaxing your own tongue to smooth over his, and he expels a pleasant noise through his nose. His fingers splay on your shoulders, keeping you in place while staying at an uncharacteristic distance. It's as if he's begging for you with his body, showing you he'll do whatever it takes to prove to you his devotion, his love. Kiss him without touching places he's not allowed to touch anymore.

Part of you wishes he'd get over that, and in a fit of impatience, you place them for him, tracing them over the curves of your bare figure.

Herding you to the bedroom you once shared, his hand comes to cup the nape of your neck, pinning you to him as he delves his tongue deeper. You've never had anyone kiss you like Anakin, and if you didn't care for him it would be unpleasant. The impatient plunge of an inexperienced lover still laces the way he makes out with you, and it's clingy, it's forceful, it's desperate. At its end, he sucks your bottom lip between his, dragging it through his teeth. Plump, wet, and pink he speaks against yours, hushed and hurried. "Say you love me." he breathes—another plea, delicately concealed.

"Say you love me." he asks again, holding your gaze while he enters you. The fragile flinch of his softened features endears you, reintroducing his sex to yours as if its his first time—like the sensation is just too much, evidenced by the hitch in his throat when he questions you.

He sinks to the hilt over and over again, using his own hands to wrap your legs around his hips, keeping you close in embrace. He squeezes his eyes shut, grunting through his mouth from effort as he buys your love with his body, begs for your attention through his pitying ministrations. "Say you love me." he pleas one more time. "Please- please, I need you. Even if you don't mean it, even if you hate me... just... just..."

You bite hard into your lip, trying to think your way through the pleasure coursing through your veins. Skin hot and mind occupied, you clutch onto him as if he grounds you. In the dull light of the room, you find his eyes again, glossy and bloodshot. You palm his cheek, and his face softens. "I love you." you concede. The wall you've put up begins to dismantle.

[yakichoufd]

Is it weird that I don't feel excited for the Deadpool and Wolverine movie?

I feel like X-Men 97 already scratched that X-Men itch and obsession in my head. Plus I feel satisfied with artists like you making Wolverine polycule fanart and fancomics.

Is something wrong with my head???

I think your feelings are valid cause you don't need to watch something else if you already feel satisfied. I am hype for that movie because I enjoyed the first two Deadpool movies. I am not expecting to fall in love of Logan there, or the other x-men we might see. I am expecting to watch a ridiculous movie with silly jokes and funny action scenes. I am hoping Scott will have a cameo but I think it won't happen. I've never been a super fan of Logan movies. He is fun and interesting (plus the actor is very handsome so my eyes are always happy when he is on screen), but his big lone wolf energy was a bit too much for me. Maybe he is too handsome and awesome and in the animated serie, he is a grumpy short king who has a lot to say and his lone wolf personnality seems more understandable to me. I really enjoy how unhinged he is in the 92 show and how he was in 97. It satisfies me a lot. I think you can take whatever please you in any adaptation and play around that. You don't need to enjoy every new adaptation from a franchise you like. There are some X-men comics where I find Scott really boring and not interesting at all. I enjoy very specifics things about him and therefore it makes me very picky about how he is portrayed. I still think I am a fan. I am a picky fan, but a fan regardless. Even if I mostly know the animated shows. I am tired of that childish fight "Oh I am a better fan cause I read the comics!" it is not a competition lmao! Enjoy whatever you want!! I personnaly read the comics cause I want more Scott content. That's my personnal reason. I want to know everything about him haha! I think we are many to be tired of the Jean/Scott/Logan drama ( where they are rivals instead of lovers) cause that rivality, usually, has a layer of misogyny and sexism. Jean is the prize and the 2 males love interests can't think straight and have to claim her. As if Jean has no choice but to accept the one who fight the hardest. I'm sorry but that is really stupid, and not how feelings work imo. That kind of relationship is based on something so weak, it will break at the first issue they would meet . I personnaly find that kind of writting insulting for every character involved, and it breaks the sincerity and depth of the romance. It removes all kind of feelings, character development and personnalities. It makes them so immature too. The polycule road on the other hand shows they could build something different. They could break the rules and be free to make their own. And as mutants, they don't care about humans society stupid rules. The can write what works for them and gain maturity over their relationship and sexuality. I am not saying every couples have to become a polycule to be mature. But for Scott, Jean and Logan it seems like a better fit for them. They can still act silly and fight over randoms things, but removing that very unhealthy incomplete love triangle and make it an actual love triangle, where each individual have romantic feelings for each other is better for them imo.

[bugs1nmybrain]

✨️ L Lawliet w/ a Shy & Insecure Reader Headcanons ✨️

Notes: I got real specific here. I need some validation haha. I swear if L ever complimented me I'd implode and then explode like I've done many times in the DS game (don't make fun of me >:<)

I'm adding pink text and sparkles to the title. Cope with it DN twt

Warnings: 18+!!! There is some sexy content, no gendered terms or pronouns. I tried being inclusive with the sexy stuff. Talks about poor self-esteem and insecurities. L being his rude ass self at one point. Reader described as quiet. I did indeed write L as a sweetheart, and I don't regret it one bit! :D. Not proofread

For starters, shy isn't a problem for L. He appreciates that you're quiet and relatively polite. It makes it easier for him to get away with dating you because he knows you're not going to be obnoxious around headquarters, and there's a good chance you'll never even mention that you're his partner

He finds it vry cute. Especially when you stumble over your words when he flirts with you. His pride is very comfy with you.

You are a perfect parallel play lover!!! He's grateful that you don't pester him when he's busy, but he doesn't mind you being around him. You can draw, do homework, write, play video games, anything. He just appreciates your company. He's also 100% paying attention out of his peripheral vision.

But because you're quiet, sometimes you don't share all of your thoughts with him and it can make for a satisfying relationship. L sure as shit isn't disclosing a lot of stuff, so he sees it as even

A lot of your secrets are insecurities, though. You worry a lot about your competency as a romantic partner. Whether it's your intelligence, physical beauty, personality, interests, anything really. You're always anxious that you're not enough, and not enough for him.

L knows well that you lack confidence. He's torn, actually, because he wants to see you become more sure of yourself and he'll try to help. He teaches you skills when he has time and makes sure to compliment you when you do something good. Sometimes he stretches the truth in his praises just to make you feel better. He knows you value his opinion a lot.

However, your insecure nature is an easy opening for him to get away with a lot. Nothing that serious, but secret tests are a given with L, and he does like to test if you'll push through him not given you the validation he knows you want. It actually does make him feel like 10% bad, though, and he'll make up for it.

He understands why you're insecure, but at the same time, he thinks it's silly. Especially when you admit to him that you're worried about your physical appearance or sexual abilities. It's in those moments he just wants to tell you to stop because "have you seen me, y/n?"

But yes please flatter his ego

When you started sleeping together it actually was pretty smooth and natural

I truly believe L was a virgin until you, so he probably wasn't much more confident than you

The doom of adult virginity/inexperience is that everyone expects you to be pornographic by now, and for an insecure person that can be very demanding

L doesn't expect that and won't be disappointed by something slow and "vanilla." He likes that, honestly. But of course, if/whenever you're ready for something more spicy, he's very open to communicating about it

This guy is just happy to touch you, period

If you fumble because you're nervous, he's not upset, but he'll redirect you with affirming words

He does admittedly get irritated by consistent nagging and the self-deprecating comments you make. It annoys him after a bit. He'll likely disengage to avoid hurting your feelings, but if you're persistent, he'll give it to you straight.

"The only thing you should be insecure about is that you're a broken record."

Fight the tears

It actually does make him upset when you doubt him and his love for you. It makes him feel like you don't trust him. L is aware that he's deceptive by nature, but he wants you to trust that he values you. He certainly wouldn't be in a committed relationship with you if his feelings weren't genuine

So he reminds you. Again. And again. That he wants you in his life and treasures you

You're lucky that he loves you so much

Sometimes, you'll go through periods of isolating from him because you're afraid of bothering him. Trust me. He's glad to have time to work, but he does pick up on your distance quick

You're so afraid of asking him for attention

or even just a bite of his cake. He always offers, tho.

But yea. L is a busy guy and comfortable in seclusion, so he isn't that clingy. He can go a long time without checking in on you, which doesn't help the paranoia

When he decides to take a break for once, usually his first instinct is to either 1. Get coffee or a treat, or 2. Make a bee line to see you!!

OR 3. BRING YOU FOOD TO SHARE

Know that he loves you much more than most things. You are his priority, even if his work takes precedence at times.

He'll attempt to build your trust over time because he understands how hard it is to believe in someone's honesty. It'll get better, and you'll likely start to feel more self-assured with him. L talks a lot, but he believes actions speak louder than words, so he'll show you how much he loves you through the little things because you light up his world after an exhausting day full of murder and nonstop thinking. You're home to him and he wants you to feel the same way about him.

[normansnt]

Ace

(Alastor x male reader)

Explain to Alastor what Ace means

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"(Y/N)?" Called out Alastor to you

"Yes?" You answered not looking up from what you were reading.

"Would you like to go, get some coffee with me, in, what your generation calls, a date?"

Now to this you looked up.

"What?" You answered very confused

"In a...romantic way?" He tried explaining it to you thinking thats the part you didn't understand.

"I mean...I would love to but you dont have to push yourself if it would make you feel uncomfortable" you answered while you put your book down slowly on the coffee table.

"Uncomfortable? Why would it make me uncomfortable we are close are we not?"

Now he got confused as well.

"Well because...your ace and/or aro?"

"What is with that word, Rosie said it as well and the meaning of it still avoids me" he answered starting to get annoyed by his lack of understanding.

"What- ohhhh what did you say when did you die?"

"1933, however its quite rude to ask someone that." He answered looking at you in a scolding way.

"I'm sorry but because you lived back than thats why you don't know that word, please sit let me explain"

He sat down on the couch in front of you.

"Ok, so when we say 'ace' we refer to someone who has little to no sexual attraction and aromantic or aro is someone who has little to no romantic attraction. Of course there is much more to this subject but this kind of sums it up."

Alastor just stared at you.

Him? Not being interested in romantic relationships or sex??

Thats...true. He never felt the need to sleep with anyone he was doing totally fine without it. Romance...was another category completely however, and he didn't know if it was something he was interested in it or not.

He asked you out in the first place because he felt very good in your presence. He felt comfortable and content. Was that not romance?

"Alastor?" He has been staring at you for a while and it was quite creepy.

"Listen I understand thats a lot of information to process especially if you just realized some things about yourself so I can leave if you like-"

"No" Answered Alastor a bit fast. He has made up his mind. He might not be interested in a sexual relationship however he really wanted to kiss you right now.

"It might be true that I have not known this so far in my life or death, and you did make me realize some things about myself, but even so my offer still stands."

"Oh? Are you sure because I only want to if it doesn't make you uncom-"

You couldn't get the rest of your sentence out due to a pair of lips on yours.

Alastor kissed you.

You were stunned for a second but after you realized what was happening you kissed back immediately.

His lips were surprisingly soft, not to mention he did pretty good looking at the fact that it was his first kiss.

"Trust me, dear, If something would make me uncomfortable I wouldn't do it." He said grinning and holding your chin after you two parted.

You were a blushing mess.

You've never thought about Alastor that way, since you thought he was aromantic. But now that you did, fucking god, you like him.

Whit that thought in mind you kissed him again.

This time you stood up and he put his hands on your waist while yours were on his neck.

It wasn't a heated kiss and it will never be very likely you didn't want to step over his boundaries.

"...So my dear, would you like to get that coffee now?" He asked smiling while offering you his arm.

"I would love to" you smiled back at him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Guys I have a serious problem Im literally shitting words I have never written this many fanfics in one go🥹

BUT YK WHAT WORTH IT CUZ I LOVE EM

I literally love almost all characters in hazbin hotel so much I JUST CANNOT STOP💀

Thank you sm for the correction @whyarewehere103 😎🙏🧡

I hope you enjoyed your reading ladies,gentleman and other, good afternoon good evening and good night🦖🧡

[midniiights-garden]

Mizu realising she's in love/a lesbian [Headcanons!!]

(A/N: I feel like this is like... already a given but please remember that these are HEADCANONS!! She does not have a canon sexuality. And I know it's mostly the lesbians who haven taken over the show but my content is available for everyone to see and I wanted to remind everyone that I am not going to tolerate slander or trash talking because of a personal opinion. You are entitled to your thoughts and I am entitled to mine.)

Possible TWs!!: Mentions of sex and sexual encounters, M*kio (you cannot stop me from putting this man as a warning I hate him sm), Canon typical violence, Racisim, Homophobia, Mysogyny (did I spell that right??)

Firstly I wanna address her relationship with Mikio in order to fully understand my headcanons.

Personally I do not believe that Mizu actually "loved" Mikio in the romantic sense. She thought she was in love, but in the end it wasn't.

Speaking as someone with a lot of personal trauma regarding relationships myself I realised that I couldn't differentiate between romantic and platonic love. Basically, for me, all I saw was that someone was treating me nicely for once and now I'm attached to them. And for the longest time I thought that was what love was.

And I think Mizu experienced something similar.

Basically, when Mikio treated her like a fucking human being she was like "oh, hey this is nice. This is weird, but it's nice. So I guess I'm in love, right?"

Like, no, baby. You aren't. That's just called emotional trauma.

That's also why she thought she was straight for the longest time because she genuinely cannot tell when she likes someone romantically.

As I often restate it'll take a while for her to fully understand the extent of her emotions, but she'll get there.

Now onto the fluffier stuff :))

~~~

How does she realise she's in love? What's her reaction to it?

I think she gets hit with the realisation as if it were a train crashing into her.

It's just a normal evening, she's probably at a ramen shop with her future S/O with her and then as she's taking a bite of her ramen she looks over at you and thinks: "Huh... I wonder what it would be like if I got to hold them?"

And then it's just a record scratch moment for her where she's like wtf where did that come from.

It's either just normal domestic moment like I mentioned or her future S/O sparring with her (which may or not freak her out bc of the fucking Mikio incident).

But when Mizu successfully pins her S/O down they just laugh and smile, knowing Mizu would never hurt them on purpose.

That made Mizu's heart flutter more than anything Mikio had ever done for her.

She's going to be in denial about it for a long time. Like... a really, really long time. Cue the "but we're just friends"!

How does she react when she realises she's into girls?

Due to the internalized homophobia instilled within her as a child and other such thoughts she starts to think she may be going crazy.

She'll start to pull away out of fear, not truly understanding her emotions.

Which, of course, will hurt her future S/O and cause them to worry.

Seeing her future S/O so distraught kind of triggers something in her. She realises that there's nothing inherently wrong with her, that she's still a person and the person she likes is still a person and that there shouldn't be anything wrong with liking her S/O. She also just didn't like seeing you worry over her, it hurt her more than any blade that she's been stabbed with.

Now onto her actual physical attraction.

Once the whole emotional side of it is somewhat sorted in her mind she finds herself not so subtly staring at her S/O's tatas.

She doesn't strike me as someone with high libido or anything despite what I've seen a lot of headcanons say. But I think shes the kind of lover to enjoy getting her S/O off a lottttt

I don't believe she was ever really attracted to Mikio sexually but seeing her S/O's kimono slip off their shoulder to reveal some titty has her red and hot.

She likes that it's soft. She really likes the softness of her S/O's body.

~~~

(A/N: That's all!! I feel like I was terribly self-indulgent with this one but there are a lot of aspects in which I relate to Mizu with. Which is probably why I care a lot about representing her correctly. As usual, feel free to comment or send asks to my inbox!! I hope y'all enjoyed <33)

[sundrop-writes]

Blood In The Water

Void!Stiles Stilinski x Fem!Reader

Beg me for mercy - admit you were toxic.

Now I am the violence, I am the sickness.

Won’t accept your silence - beg me for forgiveness.

We’ll never get free, lamb to the slaughter.

What you gon do when there’s Blood In The Water?

Summary:

Being Stiles's best friend, you are incredibly worried about him when you figure out that he is quite literally not himself - and that the thing currently occupying his body could be destroying it in the process. When you approach him to show this concern, Void takes a particular interest in you. He's not capable of love, or even fondness, but he likes you.

And he likes the way your fear spikes when you talk about Stiles. So he makes you a deal - he'll agree to take care of this fleshy, mortal host, in exchange for something more precious, more rare, and more delicious than the meal you have brought for Stiles.

He wants your pain. He wants your tears.

Void!Stiles Stilinski x Fem!Reader. Pining Best Friends. Extreme Emotional Angst, Hurt No Comfort. Set during Season 3 (with flashbacks to Season 1, Episode 11).

Word Count: 11,700

Teen Wolf Masterlist | AO3 Link

Full list of warnings and author's notes below the cut.

Warnings: as it says above - this is pure angst, hurt NO COMFORT, please heed that warning, if this is not something you are into, please leave now; this is set during Season 3, but not during any particular episode; I guess I need to put warnings for demon possession and identity theft (even though for the entirety of the fic, the reader does know that Stiles is not himself on the basis of knowing him so well, and she is talking to Void ernestly); this fic is about Void and the Reader interacting and discussing the relationship and feelings between Stiles and the Reader; the reader and Stiles have had mutual romantic feelings for each other for a long time but never acted on them, and at the point when the fic begins, their relationship is described as long-term best friends; the reader uses she/her pronouns and is mentioned to wear a dress and high heels to the winter formal dance; the reader's race, hair colour, size or looks in general are not described in any way (Void does call the reader 'little' but it is meant to be emotionally condescending, rather than a description of her size); this fic DOES use Y/N (proudly so); mentions of Stiles not eating/being starved because Void refuses to participate in 'human pleasures' (and he considers food to be one of those); Void is a demon who is fed by pain and he enjoys the Reader's fear, sadness, embarrassment, emotional pain, and other negative emotions, and he can feel those emotions in the air as she experiences them, so he is encouraged to do and say things that prompt negative reactions from her; Void calls the reader 'sweet thing' and 'darling' and 'little girl'; passing mention of Stiles watching porn (but the general tone of this fic is not sexual); Void compares the reader to Stiles's 'mommy' (because she is the only one who has ever given him soft, 'maternal' comfort and understanding) - but it's not a Mommy kink thing (or maybe it is for Stiles, you don't know that); mentions of eating diary and meat being 'cruel' (but I am not a vegan, it's just Void commenting on the way humans do things); the reader considers cutting herself with a knife to 'feed' Void her physical pain (but Void wants emotional pain instead); Void asks the reader to relive a painful memory by telling him about it, therefore feeding him with her emotional pain; Void threatens the reader with physical harm and even murder (to make her more fearful, and to taunt Stiles, who is forced to witness all of this); there is flashbacks to the winter formal episode in S1; mentions of the reader being jealous because Stiles took Lydia to the dance (and the reader hates the jealousy it evokes in her because she doesn't want to pit herself against Lydia and she wants to be happy for Stiles); mentions of Lydia being attacked by Peter Hale (as is canon); mentions of alcohol - the reader takes one sip of alcohol but does not get drunk during the fic; mentions of drunk driving (the reader drives after that sip of alcohol and questions if this 'counts' as drunk driving, and other people are accused of driving drunk, but in this fic, drunk driving is not actually the cause of any accidents); Stiles gets into a life-threatening car accident - mentions of blood and grievous bodily injury; mentions of Stiles needing surgery due to the car accident; mentions of blood; graphic descriptions of a character being stabbed. I believe that's it?

A/N: I have a lot to say here, so strap in. First of all, you're probably wondering why you're seeing this now. That is because I have been going through a very bad patch of mental illness (fuelled by multiple things, including the state of my physical illness) and when that happens to me, I become like a big spinning top of agitation and bad energy. And I feel the need to work on a project to avoid bad practices like self harm. And after a lot of whirling around and only working on certain projects for a few minutes at a time, I was cleaning out my files just to keep my mind occupied, and I came across the pictures I had saved to make the moodboard for this fic and I was like 'I can't delete those yet because I wanna use those to make the fic cover'. So I decided to make the fic cover, and it spiralled into me editing the whole fic just to keep my agitated upset mind busy and focused on something other than the fact that I am upset. So - good for you guys. You get a new fic. As for the actual content of this fic - I wanted to mark it as both Void x Reader and Stiles x Reader, but I figured that wouldn't make sense to most people. Because this is about Stiles and the Reader having mutual crushes on each other for a long time, and Void enjoying the embarrassment of taunting them about it, as well as the pain that comes from their pining and the potential of hurting the other and forcing them to watch. And Void does take a kind of 'liking' to the Reader, but because he's a demon, it's not necessarily romantic? Idk. I just have a lot of fun writing demon characters as complete bastards (I will never get people who write characters like Void, Anti, Dark as secret softies - like please, write a villain as a villain. It's more fun that way). So please - enjoy my take on this awful bastard. I had a lot of fun writing it. (Also I would like to note that I wrote this before I saw the end of 3A so I thought the 'crashing the Jeep' thing was a totally organic idea on my part lmao.)

...

“Stiles hasn’t eaten in days.” 

You stated it very matter-of-factly, rather than asking if he had eaten or theorizing about it. It was something that you knew concretely. 

Usually, Stiles was someone who was very passionate about food. He complained about missing lunch and hated being rushed to eat rather than getting to enjoy his food if you were nagging him about being late and had somewhere to be. 

The only time you had ever seen him miss meals was when he got particularly sucked into his reading and researching. And usually, when his concentration finally broke, he would whine about his stomach hurting and only remember why when the smell of curly fries came under his nose because you had put the bag in front of him. 

But even in that case, he had never missed more than a single meal. 

You had never seen him go days without touching a single bit of food - without so much as mentioning something greasy he was craving or talking about a destination take-out spot that the two of you needed to go to on the weekend. 

You had to guess that it was around the time that He had taken control. Or at least, around about when He had stopped caring to pretend to be human. When He had stopped putting up a front. 

“Observant little thing, aren’t you?” He titled his head in that way that was so distinctly un-Stiles, giving you a small smirk as his words penetrated you with that utterly mocking tone. 

It was strange, staring at the face of your long-time best friend and referring to him in the third person. Starting to think about him as though he wasn’t even there when you were staring right at him. Though it had only been a few days, you had long since given up the hope that you were talking to Stiles. You knew that this was someone else - something else entirely. 

You were still clinging onto the hope that you could get Stiles through this and he wouldn’t be entirely damaged beyond recognition on the other side. 

Hence, why you were trying to feed him now. 

It had been at least four days since you had seen him take a single bite of food, and you had been carefully observing him the entire time. So you had arrived at his place today with an armful of Stiles’s favorite foods. You felt lucky to catch him alone while the others were out chasing leads - or perhaps, unlucky. Perhaps he would have eaten in front of them just to prove that he was still himself. But you were hoping to tempt him with the smell, at the very least. 

Surely, he had to be hungry? 

Laid out on the table in front of you was a variety of things - all kinds of things you knew would have had Stiles gorging himself in minutes. A disgustingly large and greasy double cheeseburger with curly fries and a strawberry milkshake, an extra large supreme meat lover’s pizza, an entire pack of Honey Buns, and a grocery store birthday cake - chocolate with vanilla icing. All of which elicited oddly painful memories for you, now that your best friend was being held hostage by a thousand year old demon. 

Everything from movie nights where the two of you would share a pizza and argue about what kind of toppings to get, to the times that the two of you would buy a birthday cake like this and eat it in his Jeep with no such occasion for it - just because you wanted to celebrate life and didn’t want to need a reason for such a treat. Nights when balancing it between your laps and eating with plastic forks was all the joy in the world that you needed. 

Nights before your life became so hellishly complicated. 

“Let me guess… you’re trying to tempt me?” He posed, moving his finger across the icing of the birthday cake, and then looking at the white glob on his finger with intense disgust before moving to wipe it off on a napkin. 

Of course, he wouldn’t even consider eating that small amount. He was taunting you. He knew that at this current moment, it was your greatest desire to see your friend eat - to know that even though you were entirely powerless against such a complicated and mysterious demonic force, you could do this one small thing in your power to take care of him. 

You couldn’t save Stiles, but you wanted to care for him - just for a moment. You wanted to make a difference - even if it was as small as a grain of sand in an hour-glass. You thought it would help. 

“Even you have to eat, don’t you?” You returned with a question. “You can’t risk your host dying, right?” 

It was something you had wondered. 

You hadn’t seen him drinking water either, and you didn’t think that he had slept at all. As far as you knew, he hadn’t attended to any of Stiles’s human needs. But according to the sallow, almost gray nature of his skin and the dark bags under his eyes - he wasn’t exactly in perfect health right now. So perhaps he did run the risk of actually killing Stiles altogether because he didn’t know how to take care of a human host. 

Void smirked as he felt that flash of fear - the utter terror that overcame you at the thought of Stiles dying from neglect. 

“Need I remind you, sweet thing?” 

He started, the nickname causing a shiver of creepiness down your skin, like the feeling of walking into a spiderweb. 

“I don’t eat the same deep-fried, fat filled crap that he does.” He looked across the table with disdain coating his features once again. “I feed upon the suffering of others.” 

These words caused a wicked chill down your spine. 

It was something that Scott had warned you of, but you hadn’t actually considered what it truly meant. 

“So by depriving Stiles of his worldly pleasures - his music, his laughter, his pornography - which he watches far too much of, by the way.” Void let out a devious chuckle at this, and you didn’t even have time to think about the implications of this before he continued. “And especially by depriving him of food and sleep, I get to feed off his precious suffering.” 

It was a terrible paradox. Void thrived while Stiles withered. 

“And as of late, I have been so deliciously full.” 

A lump formed in your throat - if you knew any words apt for this situation, you wouldn’t have been able to get them out anyway. Void’s smirk grew wider. Indulging in your suffering, in your fear for your best friend, your horror at these realizations - Void continued. 

“But - among all those things, you know what he misses most of all?” 

He posed, talking slowly, his voice calculated, mocking you with another head tilt. It was as though he was looking down upon you even though he was sitting in a chair at the kitchen table and you were standing across from him on the other side of the room. 

You choked on a miserable syllable - no words came out. Part of you wanted to know the answer very badly, and part of you wanted him to shut up. You simply shook your head in reply. 

“He misses you.” 

Void whispered these words as though it was a precious secret. And then - he let out a grand cackle of a laugh, bordering on a howl as he continued to mock you. 

Your insides shook, and you became foggy with confusion - how did Stiles miss you more than he missed food or water or sleep? How did he ‘miss you’ so much when you were standing right here in front of him? Did the presence of this horrid being keep Stiles from seeing you or hearing you? Was he trapped so terribly inside his own body? 

Was this like a coma for him? Would he not remember any of this when it was over?

You could only hope that was the case. 

“He begs and pleads every time I won’t let him touch you.” Void grinned, letting out another laugh - clearly pleased by the idea of Stiles’s misery. “He is so damn desperate to hold you. It’s hilarious, really. Especially because - at the same time, he’s terrified of what I’ll do if I get too close.” 

These words put a terrible knot in your stomach. 

You could only imagine how terrible it was for Stiles - he was a naturally touchy person, and now, someone else was controlling his body, keeping him from participating in the physical affection that he craved. Threatening to put his loved ones in danger if he did get the love that he desperately craved. 

You didn’t want to know what Void would do if you walked across the room to hug Stiles. But at the same time, it made you yearn to hold him, to squeeze him tight, to give him the comfort he was clearly so badly in need of. Especially now that you knew his consciousness was still in there, alert and alive, fighting to get out. 

“He’s so pathetic.” Void remarked softly. “He misses his Mommy, and… well, you’re the only one who ever treated him like a Mommy would. Isn’t that right?” 

This sentiment confused you entirely. 

You stared at him, gape-jawed, waiting for an explanation, and luckily - he did give you one. 

“You held him close, and kissed his boo-boos. You… you were the only one who told him he was good enough when he never fucking was.” 

You instantly wanted to argue this point, but you were more caught up on the overarching metaphor that Void was making. 

All of the individual points were true. You had done all of those things for Stiles. But you didn’t see how that made you Stiles’s Mommy. It just made you a good friend. 

“My Stiles is good enough.” You argued weakly, finally finding your words. “He’s a good person, and you can’t change that about him. He’s still in there. And he’s still going to be a good person after all this.” 

Void tutted his tongue, giving another mocking smirk. 

“Still at it.” He laughed. “You’re relentless, aren’t you?” 

You didn’t care to respond to that. 

“Beautifully relentless.” Void sighed, sounding almost dreamy as he said this. He sounded as if he admired this quality in you. 

Which he did. But he admired this about you for one specific reason. 

“See… that’s what makes the fear so fucking delicous.” He continued on, explaining. “When someone so bright, so full of hope finally gives up. When their spirit finally breaks. It permeates the air better than the smell of a rotting corpse - and it’s so fucking beautiful.” 

You chose not to respond to this - baffled by his words, and slightly frightened. 

Instead, you wondered something else. 

“What happens if Stiles doesn’t eat?” You asked. “You said that you’re full, but he’s still human. It’s still a human body. A body that you’re currently living in.” 

Void clapped his hands together a few times, slowly, giving you dry, sarcastic applause for your cleverness. 

“Good question. Clever little girl.” He congratulated you, causing another wave of ‘ick’ to roll through you at his condescending tone. “He is my host, but currently, I rule all. I give him strength, I eliminate all his weaknesses. I turn his pathetic human form into the ultimate weapon. With me inhabiting his body, he does not need to eat, sleep, or drink. He does not need such tiny fallacies as comfort.” 

“And what happens when you leave?” You posed. 

“If I choose to leave.” Void smirked at you. 

“When.” You ground out sharply, arguing, feeling braver the longer that you stood there and talked to him. 

To you, he wasn’t all that scary. 

Scott had warned you that Void was clever - that he would manipulate you and try to hurt you. But thus far, you hadn’t seen the route to any tricks. He seemed very straight-forward and honest. He seemed very plainly painted in his cruelty. 

“If I choose to leave this host and move onto another, then… I suppose that he’ll collapse.” Void shrugged, speaking about it as if it were no more interesting to him than a fly in his peripheral. “Without my strength keeping him alive, all the exhaustion, all the hunger, all the thirst - it will hit him, all at once. He may even die from the shock alone. His body will be too weak and fragile to handle it.” 

A surge of terrible anger flooded you. Perhaps it was fueled by fear, but either way, it drove you to smack your hand down onto the table, nearly smashing the birthday cake before you screamed out, finally lashing out on him. 

“Motherfucker!” You called Void the first cruel name that came to mind, and he didn’t give any indication of reaction at your throat scraping volume. “You stupid bastard! You are gonna get out and give Stiles his body back, and when you do, you’re gonna return it in good fucking condition! You understand me?” 

Void simply smirked, seeming entirely amused by your outburst. 

Of course, he wasn’t scared of you - a powerless human. You had nothing to threaten him with. Even if you had the powers of a werewolf, he still wouldn’t fear you. 

“There’s that spunk he’s always talking about.” Void said, an odd kind of fondness peeking through his voice that didn’t suit him. “You know, it’s almost… cute. I’m starting to understand why he likes you so much.” 

You only became more pissed off at being called ‘cute’ when you were so boiling angry. It was entirely aggravating - someone being so condescending toward your rage. 

Then, it hit you that the ‘he’ Void spoke about had to be Stiles. Did the two of them have conversations? Why would Stiles bother to praise you to a thousand year old demon? 

It caused more of your affection for Stiles to bubble up inside you, and you hated it. 

“Look, darling, because I like you, I’ll make you a deal,” Void posed, giving you yet another pet name that made you feel oddly disgusted. 

Stiles had called you plenty of friendly nicknames before - he had even called you ‘babe’ jokingly, on occasion. But ‘darling’ had never spilled from his lips toward you. It was just another horrible reminder that he was so terribly not himself. That the thing wearing his face, puppeting him around was not Stiles. 

“What deal?” You replied. 

It was best to move on and start thinking of ways to take care of Stiles - ways to get him out of this mess. 

“I’ll eat something for Stiles if you do something for me in return.” 

You knew that he kept his wording purposefully vague. And you knew that this was likely what Scott had talked about - his intention to trick you. But Void had you right where he wanted you - desperate, fearful. He was manipulating you using emotions that he didn’t have. 

“What do you want from me?” You dared to ask. 

He smirked. 

“I’ll tell you after Stiles has been fed.” 

You took a moment to consider it, knowing that it was likely a terrible idea to agree to anything when it came to him. But he had you backed into a corner. He knew that he could get you to do anything while holding the culpability of Stiles’s wellbeing over your head. 

“Oh no,” Void said, using an oddly soft, pained tone that varied so much from the emotionless, mocking tone he had been using before. He gripped at Stiles’s stomach, and let out a groan of pain that you knew had to be fake, as he professed before that he made Stiles’s body strong and invincible. “He’s begging for you to help him! You’re right, he hasn’t eaten in days, and he’s really feeling it now! It’s killing him!” 

He was using your empathy to manipulate you. 

“Stop it.” You protested, and it came out much weaker than you had intended - sounding much more like a plea than an order. 

He clutched his stomach tighter, and then, he looked up at you with the saddest water eyes you had ever seen - for a moment, a single breath of a moment - you saw Stiles, your Stiles break through. 

“Please, Y/N.” He said, crying out your name breathlessly. “Please, I’m so hungry.” 

“Fine, fine!” You cried in return, barely realizing how close to tears you were, seeing Stiles beaten down, weak, begging for you to help him. “Fine, you’ve got a deal!” 

In a moment of weakness, rushing to help Stiles, you reached out your hand to shake on it, signifying your promise - and in an instant, Void’s face shifted from that soft, vulnerable boy you knew back to that horrible demon, glaring at you as he reached out and grabbed your hand. You knew that many stories cautioned against making a deal with the devil, and you supposed that making a deal with Nogistune was just as bad. 

But it was done now. All you could do was hope that Stiles would benefit from this. 

A short while later, he had scoffed down a very large piece of cake and was halfway done with the cheeseburger, with you intently watching the whole time to make sure that there were no tricks involved on his part. You thought that the meal would mostly be silent, but he finally spoke up again, looking a bit less intimidating with some remnants of the meal smeared across his face. 

“You know, one thing I can credit humans for…” He said, swallowing before he picked up one of the fries. “Their talent for cruelty. Grinding up an animal, frying it in its own melted fat and then covering it in the stolen milk meant to suckle its babes - that is something I can admire.” 

“I’m sure vegans would love you.” You mumbled quietly, to yourself, not entirely sure if he could hear you. 

“You should join me.” He remarked after another bite - motioning toward the table full of food. “It’s more polite than standing over me like a statue, gawking at me the whole time.” 

You knew that with him holding Stiles hostage, you were in no position to refuse him. So you played right into his demands, pulling out the chair across from him without a word and flipping open the pizza box to grab a slice. You began eating in silence, and naturally - Void continued speaking. 

“This is almost like one of those little dates that you used to have with him, isn’t it?” He spoke quietly, mocking you once again. “At least, that’s what Stiles called them. Dates. He was deluded enough to believe that if he didn’t speak it aloud, his affection for you would simply be known.” 

This punched you in the gut, and you bit your tongue as you took your first bite of pizza. You sputtered with shock and Void continued to look amused. You never thought it was true. Scott always said that Stiles had feelings for you, and Lydia said so too - but you thought they were just theorizing. 

You had never, ever thought that your best friend and long time crush - the person you were in love with - would ever feel the same way about you. 

And you had to find out from a fucking demon. 

You remained silent, busying your mouth with eating as you tried to process the shocking news. 

“But we both really know what it was, huh? He was so pathetic… he didn’t want to be rejected by you, so he never even asked. He was never brave enough. Always so pitiful, and small. Your boy is just a coward.” 

Again, you didn’t say anything. Not playing into his game - unaware of the fact that he could feel your annoyance in the air. He didn’t need you to voice your emotions in order to gain satisfaction from mocking Stiles in your presence. 

So of course, he kept on going. 

“But not as pathetic as he is right now. Sweet and pathetic, begging for your life. Begging for me to spare you. It’s almost like a song. He keeps on telling me to stay away from you as if he has any power over this.” 

“Just shut up and eat.” You told him, sharp and even. 

He nodded and continued, seemingly content with the deal you had made - for now. 

And he finished the burger and fries, and two of the Honey Buns before scrunched up the wrapper on the last one, and then wiped his face with an utterly contented smile. Then he said: 

“Now, time for what I want.” 

You wiped off your face and hands with a napkin, done with your pizza - not having much of an appetite anyway with the situation at hand. There was a flash of worry in your mind. Wondering if he might ask you to kill someone for his benefit because they wouldn’t be expecting it to come from you. Or perhaps he might even ask for something sexual - 

He let out a bright chuckle - almost as if reading your mind and highly amused by your thoughts. 

“No, no. Don’t worry, darling. Nothing like that.” He told you. “I feed off of suffering. Precious pain. Anxiety, heartache, fear. Now it’s time for me to eat.” 

You thought he might say something like that. And you had come prepared with that in mind - prepared to give up anything to get Stiles back. 

You reached into the pocket of your jeans, pulling out a small pocket knife. It was one that Scott had given you shortly after you found out that he had become a werewolf. He had never wanted to hurt you, so - it was silver plated steel, and he had Stiles burn Wolfsbane smoke over the blade to poison it - just in case you ever needed a weapon against one of his kind. It would be useless against Void, and the Wolfsbane wouldn’t poison a human like you. 

But the blade was more than sharp enough to cut you. It would hurt you. It would provide the pain that Void desired. 

You shoved your sleeve up to your elbow and poised the blade at your skin, but Void reached out, stopping you. 

For a heart-stopping moment, you thought that somehow, Stiles had regained control. 

But when your eyes flickered up to his face, you saw nothing but Void’s dark amusement lingering in those eyes. This left you confused as he took the knife from your limp grip. 

“As amusing as that would be, sweet thing, it’s rather… boring.” He declared tiredly. “I had something else in mind.” 

Your throat dried up, and you didn’t even realize that you were trembling as you stared him down with terrible, anxious anticipation, waiting to see what he had in store for you. 

Void licked his lips, practically lapping up the delicious, sweet taste of your fear. 

He pocketed the knife and walked around the table toward you. You resisted the urge to get up and run away as he bracketed so close to your side, leaning on the table and tucking his face close to your cheek. Being this close to him, as close as you had been to Stiles since he had been taken hostage - you could almost be tricked by the faint smell of the familiar body wash coming off his skin, by the warmth that you knew to be so human. 

But this wasn’t Stiles. A thought that only made it all feel so much worse. 

It caused you to hold back tears. 

“No, no, darling.” He whispered against your cheek, causing your throat to clench up again. “If I wanted your pain, I could have it. I could take it.” 

Fuck. What had you gotten yourself into? 

You held back a fearful whimper, and Void joyfully continued. 

“I could smack you, punch you, make you bleed.” 

He went on - the confidence of his words causing your trembling to become more apparent as your heart pounded in your chest. You considered running, but that would mean abandoning Stiles. You came here to check on him - to fight for him. You couldn’t chicken out now. 

“I could take your pathetic little knife and stab you, over and over again while Stiles screams and begs for mercy. I do love it when he begs for your life - he’s so much more desperate when it comes to you.” 

Dear god. Would he actually kill you just to force Stiles to watch? Did Stiles have to be conscious for something like that? 

Would he force Stiles to live for the rest of his life with the guilt of not being able to stop your murder? With him in control, would Stiles even live that much longer? 

“But no. That’s not the game I want to play. Not right now, at least.” 

You hated that he likely saw the breath of relief as it flexed from your chest. 

“What -what do you want, then?” You asked, your throat still clenched by fear, making your words come out choked and weak. 

He put a hand on your cheek - one that felt all too familiar. The hand you had held while walking to class, or cuddling on the couch. The hand that dismissively waved in front of your face when you told him that he had come up with another horrible idea. Void turned your face toward him, and you were then up close and personal with the horrible sight of a pain-fueled demon wearing your sweet best friend’s face. 

“I want your tears.” 

Of course. Emotional pain, rather than physical. You would dare to say that it would be even more potent. 

Good thing you were already so close to crying. 

You would just have to spend a few more minutes thinking about Stiles trapped in there, helpless-

“Tell me about the accident.” He declared, smirking, finding the whole ordeal very satisfying. 

“No.” You immediately replied. 

It was too painful. You couldn’t even think about it, it was too much- 

“No?!” He screamed in your ear, causing you to flinch. “Nobody tells me ‘no’! You promised me something, you stupid little bitch. Now hold up your end of the deal.” 

Sadly, he was right. You had made a deal with him - and if this was part of carrying it out… you would have preferred the pocket knife. 

Even just thinking about that night - the blood, the twisted metal, the terror you had felt. The anxiety, the waiting. It had all been so horrible. It had been hell. A worse hell than a dinner date with a demon who was wearing your best friend as a human skin suit. 

Already, Void felt a deep satisfaction as those emotions began to permeate the air around the two of you. To him, it was the most beautiful kind of poison. He took a deep whiff, and then leaned in close again, running his nose along your hairline to sniff you. 

You shrugged away from the touch, but didn’t have far to go without falling off your chair completely. You were happy when he pulled away again - feeling used and wishing for nothing more than Stiles’s comforting touch and assuring words. 

“Perfect.” He mumbled quietly to himself. “You know, Stiles hardly remembers any of it. The night is almost completely blank in his mind.” 

You didn’t know that. After the hospital, the two of you had never bothered to talk about it in order to compare stories. Like you always did, the two of you just moved on. You looked forward to brighter days, thankful that your friendship was still intact. 

“But I know that you remember everything. Every. Single. Last. Detail.” Void said, giving another terrible laugh. 

He grabbed onto the back of your chair, and using a strength that you knew didn’t belong to Stiles, he roughly tugged on it, forcing it away from the table and spinning you to face him. He came back around to stand in front of you - now, he would be the one standing to loom over you, watching you while you provided him with a delicious meal. 

“So, come on,” He prodded. “I want to hear the whole story. And you better not leave anything out.” 

He stood there in complete satisfaction, his arms crossed as he grinned down at you with a devilish smile. 

You took a deep breath, fidgeting with your fingers for a moment. You gathered your courage, and then you began to speak. 

This is for Stiles, you assured yourself. For Stiles. 

“Well, it was the night of the winter formal.” You started off. “And when I saw Stiles screech out of the parking lot in his Jeep at top speed-” 

“No, no.” Void shook his head, cutting you off. “I said start at the beginning.” He scolded you sharply. “That’s not the beginning, is it? I want all the details. Go back to the beginning of the night.” 

“Are you serious?” 

At first, you were utterly confused. He asked you to tell him about the accident. What did a high school dance have to do with a car accident? 

“Of course, darling.” He smirked at you. 

Then, it hit you. He didn’t just want the gorey details. He wanted every ounce of your suffering. He wanted Stiles to suffer too. Especially if he said that Stiles didn’t remember it. He wanted you to recount the entire night to Stiles from your perspective. It was why he had brought up Stiles’s ‘affection’ for you. 

He wanted both of you to suffer in the misery that you had been in love with each other for so long and not been together. The stupidity that you were both blind idiots who kept each other from happiness the whole time. 

So you took a breath, and you told your story how he wanted to hear it, starting from the beginning of the night. 

… 

You were utterly miserable. 

It was one of the biggest dances of the year (well, aside from Prom and Homecoming…) and you didn’t have a date. You had spent a huge chunk of money, your savings from a crappy minimum wage job waiting tables, on a gorgeous dress and shoes, hoping that Stiles would ask you to the dance. But he was going with Lydia. 

You guessed that you had to be happy for him. He had been crushing on her since the third grade, and he was finally going on a date with her. A good best friend would be happy for him. 

But naturally, you were still trying to look your absolute best, maybe, selfishly, in the hope that he would see you from across the room and realize that he had made the wrong choice. Lydia was an amazing, sweet girl - and you genuinely hated the type of jealousy that this was making you feel. 

You knew that logically, you had no claim over Stiles. He was just your friend, and he was more than free to go on dates with other girls. It was downright toxic of you to not ask him to the dance and then get upset when he happily went with someone else as his date. 

But you tried not to think about that as you put the finishing touches on your look. You had gone all out with your best hair and make-up to compliment your expensive crystal blue satin dress. Whether it was to make yourself feel better or to try and capture Stiles’s attention - you still weren’t entirely sure. 

“Lip-gloss?” Allison appeared behind you, holding a hand out, looking for the aforementioned product. 

You handed it to her and she leaned down, looking into the mirror of your vanity while applying it. She had told you that getting ready at her own house would have simply been ‘too weird’ because she was fighting with her family, and she wanted some calm down time. So she had asked to get ready with you, with the offer that Jackson could give you both a ride from there. 

“Look, I’m sorry.” She said, feeling too awkward in the silence as you applied your mascara, focusing on your work and not looking at her in the mirror. She knelt down beside you, guilt written across her face. “If I had known that you liked Stiles, I wouldn’t have set him up with Lydia.” 

“It’s not a big deal.” You remarked. “Like you said, you didn’t know.” After a moment, you added on: “It’s kind of… good. Like a relief. I almost feel like it’s less pressure.” You shrugged. “I can just go and have fun without worrying about impressing him.” 

You had been lying to yourself. You absolutely hated it with every fiber of your being. You didn’t want to be angry with Allison, but you knew that she was better friends with Lydia than she was with you. That’s why she hadn’t known about your feelings for Stiles before now. When she had asked why you seemed so upset about the news that the two were going to the dance together, you told her, and she explained with a sour, sad face that she had set them up. 

You hated it, but you couldn’t help thinking that this was the first step to Stiles and Lydia becoming a thing - the first act in them dating for long months while you resented Lydia for stealing something you once saw as yours. 

And you hated yourself for being that kind of person. 

Allison chuckled at this. 

“Yeah… Well, Scott’s not going at all, so none of us get to go with the person we want to be with.” She said in a deeply sad tone, obviously aching from her own problems. 

… 

“It’s a shame, isn’t it?” Void commented, drawing you from the memory. “A pretty girl spends too much money on a dress, trying to impress some moron who won’t even notice it.” 

He was mocking Stiles again. 

“And then you had to see him with her.” 

You nodded. 

You could picture it so perfectly in your mind. Getting out of Jackson’s car and seeing Stiles rush to open the door for her - the way he smiled at her, the way he looked at her like she held the world on the edges of her lips. You wanted nothing more than for him to look at you like that. Her perfect ‘strawberry blonde’ hair fluttering in the wind as they walked arm-in-arm across the parking lot. 

It caused the most awful aching pain in your chest that you had ever felt. You didn’t truly know how precious Stiles was to you until you saw him with someone else. 

You knew Jackson was aching too, for much the same reason. And when he had offered you a swig of his drink, you took it. But it wore off too soon for your tastes and you didn’t have more. So for the better part of the night, you were forced to feel your pain while his was drowned out by the booze. 

“Tell me. Tell me how it made you feel.” Void egged you on, wanting you to say it out loud even though your pain was all too palpable in the air. 

“Like I was dying inside,” You answered, your throat tight but - still no tears yet. “Like all good had drained from the world. Like I had lost the most precious thing in my life and I would have to sit at the sidelines watching a perfect story play out when I was supposed to be a part of it.” 

Void took a deep breath, sniffing the air again. And then he chuckled. 

“Your pathetic teenage angst is… so amusing.” He grinned at you, crossing his arms over his chest. “Do tell me more.” 

You had no clue that somewhere inside of there, Stiles was hit with his own wave of intense sadness - something else for Void to feed off of. He had no clue that you had been in love with him for so long. He had no clue how many opportunities he had missed out on to tell you about his feelings - how long he could have been happily dating you. 

He hated how much time the two of you had missed out on. 

Void sat contently between Stiles’s complicit misery and your renewed angst as you continued the story. 

… 

You had moped around all night. 

You thought perhaps the only person more miserable than you at that dance was Scott - stuck hiding in the shadows, forced to watch Allison dance with Jackson while pretending he wasn’t even there. 

But eventually, he too got his way after making a huge scene that even stopped the band for a moment - and left Coach feeling embarrassed when everyone thought that he went off on a homophobic screaming tirade because Scott was dancing with Danny. Good thing Beacon Hills was pretty progressive. 

After spending all night on the bleachers on the verge of tears, you decided to leave to get yourself a chocolate bar from the vending machine - nothing goes better with sorrow than chocolate, right? Well, perhaps Jackson had a point in pairing his sorrow with liquor. But you weren’t at that point yet. 

You were considering just calling it a night altogether. But you saw Stiles standing by himself, sans Lydia, and you figured it was a good time to make your move, if you were going to make one. 

You wandered over to him shyly. 

You had been feeling so down about yourself, you didn’t notice the way his eyes traced over every inch of you with awe - the way his lips parted with slight shock and wonder at how beautiful you looked that night. 

Just as he was about to tell you so, you spoke up. 

“So… where’s Lydia?” You asked. 

“Oh, uh - she went to go find Jackson.” He said, disappointment seeping through every single inch of his voice. 

“Naturally.” You replied. 

You wanted to rant and scream about how she wasn’t good enough for him if she was going to ditch him for a guy who supposedly didn’t even want her anymore. 

Your eyes strayed over to Allison and Scott on the dance floor, looking at each other with nothing but affection - clearly, only thinking of the other person, so caught up in their own little bubble. She didn’t care that Jackson had ditched her. A small flare of jealousy went through you. 

You wished that could be you and Stiles. 

“Do you wanna dance?” You asked Stiles, hoping that you could have your moment, even if it meant stealing him away from Lydia (when she clearly didn’t care). 

He gave you a shy grin. “Okay.” 

You grabbed his hand and led him out to the dance floor, and his hands found a natural place on your hips while you softly draped your arms around his neck. The two of you swayed to the slow music for a moment before you spoke again. 

“This is nice.” You commented, smiling. 

Though it had felt impossible only an hour ago, you actually felt happiness creeping in. Standing there underneath the coloured lights, dancing with the one person you had wanted the whole time. It was nice. There was still a lick of mourning lingering in your chest. You knew that Stiles still only viewed you as a friend, and you weren’t sure if you could ever gather that courage to take the leap and tell him about how you truly felt. As much as you wanted to just pull him close and kiss him. 

“You know, you were the one person I actually wanted to dance with tonight.” You continued on. “And-” You cut yourself off with a sigh, not wanting to sound too vulnerable. 

“Yeah.” Stiles replied - though he sounded oddly distant and thoughtless. 

When you looked at his face again, you realized that he was staring at something over your shoulder, and you craned your neck to see that he was gawking at his watch. 

“Ugh, really?” You scoffed, pushing him away. “Is dancing with me so awful that you feel the need to time it?” 

“No.” He shook his head furiously, hating what you were accusing him of. “That’s not - look, Lydia’s been gone for over ten minutes! I’m worried.” 

You shook your head, sighing deeply in defeat. Of course he was still thinking about her. 

“Did you ever consider that maybe she found Jackson? That maybe they’re off somewhere making out? That she just ditched you because she doesn’t give a shit about you?” You argued, full of pain, your voice raising in volume to the point where you attracted stares from others on the dancefloor. 

A look of pure pain streaked across Stiles’s face at your words. 

“Whatever.” Stiles shrugged. “I’m going to find her. Because I actually care about her. And because I trust my gut.” He sharply bumped your shoulder as he passed, leaving you feeling more rejected and horrible than ever.

You turned and fled from the room, scurrying away from the many eyes on you once you realized that people were still staring. 

… 

“His gut.” Void chuckled. “He always did have good instincts, didn’t he?” 

He did. Stiles had amazing instincts. 

Because you had been assuming the worst - believing that Lydia had ditched Stiles to go and make-out with Jackson, when in reality, she had been bleeding to death on the lacrosse field. Stiles had been more than right to go looking for her. 

Given, that was before you even knew about the existence of werewolves and all the other bullshit that ran ramped in Beacon Hills. But it didn’t make you feel like any less of a horrible person when you found out. 

“Did you ever consider what a selfish bitch you are?” 

Void continued on when you didn’t speak, seamlessly picking up with his mocking. Of course, he knew all the weak spots to hit. He could feel right where you were soft and vulnerable - right where you flexed with hurt under his taunts. 

“Whining about not getting to dance with some dork while an innocent girl was bleeding to death? Talk about priorities.” 

“I didn’t know.” You replied, your voice stiff. 

You knew it was a poor excuse. You knew that ultimately, you were selfish. You should have gone with Stiles to look for Lydia. You should have helped. 

Distantly, caged up inside of Void - Stiles was eternally thankful about that argument. He was thankful that you had been distanced from all of it, kept away from Peter Hale’s hungry claws. He would have gone insane, having you and Lydia in hospital beds, side by side, not knowing what the fate of either of you would be. 

“Yeah, you can just keep telling yourself that same bullshit, sweetheart.” Void said, his voice a low whisper. “But we both know what you are. Maybe in reality, you’re not that much different from someone like me.” 

Maybe that realization hurt more than anything. 

Maybe that was his intention - to hit you with a truth that would wound you. 

“You know… he still thinks about you in that dress.” Void spoke quietly again, carefully, painstakingly choosing each word. “How… beautiful you looked. His perfect rare crystal.” 

He put emphasis on each word in a way that sent chills down your spine. His sharp gaze coming from Stiles’s honey whiskey eyes felt infinitely darker, and rather than feeling treasured as something good, something valuable like you usually did when Stiles looked at you - you felt filthy. You felt a sense of fear, knowing that Void would use Stiles precious appreciation of you to hurt him. To hurt both of you. 

“That was the night he knew for certain that he was in love with you.” Void let out another laugh - dark and low. “The night he knew that he loved you more than he ever loved Lydia. She was laying in front of him dying, and still - all he could think about was protecting you. Protecting you from the threat.” 

Your throat clenched up, and anything you were going to say was lost. 

“I guess he’s selfish too, isn’t he?” Void posed. “You two are perfect for each other, I suppose.” 

Then, he put on a weak, small, wobbling voice, and began to mock the unique, crippling fear that Stiles had experienced that night. 

“Where’s Y/N? I need to find her. I need to protect her. Is she next?” 

Nausea tightened in your stomach. 

A unique tightness clutched at your chest. 

Stiles had known he was in love with you that night. 

He had been trying to protect you. 

Is that why he had fled from the dance so suddenly? 

“Ask me the question.” Void grinned, entirely excited now that you had put it together, made the realization. “Come on, ask me the question. We both know you want to.” 

“Why are you doing this?” You choked out. 

This was not the question he wanted. 

But still, he indulged you. 

“I told you.” He said firmly. “I like pain.” 

He took a step forward then, leaning down, bracketing his hands by your hips on the wooden kitchen chair’s seat, his face tight in your personal space once again. 

“Now… ask me the question.” 

You took a shallow breath. 

You hated how intimidating he was. You hated knowing that if it had actually been Stiles who was this close to you, it would have given you butterflies or even turned you on, but instead - you felt anxiety having him this close. 

You couldn’t help but to give him what he wanted. 

“What really happened that night?” You whimpered out, terrified of that answer. “Why did Stiles leave the dance?” 

Void grinned. 

“What a brilliant question. You are such a clever girl.” 

… 

All of it happened so fast. 

Stiles spotted Lydia from afar - her red hair very distinctive. Then he saw it - a humanoid shape transforming into a big, black beast. Razor sharp teeth and claws. 

He begged for her life, and he had been given one chance to spare her - a single call to Jackson. Luckily, the asshole picked up. (It was the one time in Stiles’s life that he had ever been thankful for Jackson’s existence.) 

And then, he was being kidnapped, forced into his own car and being forced to drive to God knows where. 

Of course, he was far too busy with the panic of it all, and he didn’t notice you. 

He didn’t notice you - stumbling into the parking lot, looking for him in order to apologize for what you had said. He didn’t notice you watching with suspicion and confusion as his Jeep pulled out of the parking lot at top speed. He didn’t notice you going into your purse for your phone, looking to call his dad, considering making a report to him about it - only to find Jackson’s keys in your purse from earlier that night. Because when you had spotted him still drinking more than an hour into the dance, so sloshed that he could barely stand, you had demanded his keys from him, telling him that you wouldn’t let him drink and drive. 

Stiles hadn’t noticed you getting into Jackson’s car and stealing it in order to trail behind him to see where he was going - just in time to miss Jackson running through the parking lot screaming for help with Lydia’s limp body in his arms. 

Stiles was too busy with panic and anxiety to notice any of that, far too busy wondering if he was going to get out of this alive. And now, he was driving down a deserted backroad with Peter Hale in his passenger’s seat, who was making entirely sexist remarks about how Lydia would end up ripping his throat out ‘twice a month’ if she survived The Bite. 

“You know, you didn’t have to protect her from it.” Peter droned on, increasing Stiles’s anxiety and annoyance. “It’s going to make her whole life better. She’ll thank me for it when she’s ready.” 

“You should have just left her out of this.” Stiles bit back. “Lydia is a good girl. She doesn’t deserve any of this.” He huffed. “If she dies, I swear to god, I’ll-” 

“You’ll what?” 

Peter chuckled, grinning, seeming amused by Stiles’s vague, likely unbackable threats. Stiles ground his teeth, not responding - hating that they both knew he wouldn’t be able to follow through on anything he threatened. Not when Peter could kill him with one clean swipe of his claws. 

“You’re protective. I do admire that in a man.” He paused, thinking. “Though, I suppose… you’re not quite a man, are you? At least not yet.” 

Stiles bit his tongue, not wanting to make any further threats that he couldn’t live up to. He had seen what Peter could do, and unfortunately - he knew that he didn’t have the physical force to fight against him. 

So what the hell could he do? 

That was the question that made Stiles’s mind tink on anxiously, convincing him further that he just might end up dead tonight. 

“What about your other pretty friend?” Peter wondered aloud, changing the subject suddenly in a way that confused Stiles. “Are you just as protective of her?” 

“What? Are you talking about Y/N?” Stiles’s heart began pumping even more viciously with anxiety, absolutely terrified that you were on Peter’s radar. 

He hated that he knew Peter could hear it - that spike in his heart rate that indicated his fear, his weakness. 

“The one in the blue dress.” Peter told him, seeming almost disinterested in the conversation as he picked at his nails. Stiles’s heart thumped harder in affirmation, and Peter continued. “She wears that lovely vanilla perfume-” 

“Leave her out of this!” Stiles screamed at the top of his lungs, rage overtaking him so suddenly that he almost swerved off the road - Peter reached over and corrected this, rolling his eyes at the outburst. 

Stiles clenched his jaw tightly and looked ahead at the road, fuming. 

(Driving behind him in Jackson’s car, you wondered why his driving was suddenly so erratic.) 

“You leave her the hell alone.” Stiles huffed, praying that there was some finality to his words. 

“That would be a little difficult, considering that she’s been following us for half a mile.” Peter grinned. “I am going to have to speak to her about this whole matter when we arrive.” 

Stiles thought that Peter was bluffing - trying to use you as leverage to get him to co-operate, just as he had done with Lydia. But when he squinted into the rearview mirror, he saw… Jackson’s car? And a flash of blue in the driver’s seat that must have been your dress. 

Fuck. 

He was so screwed. 

“What do you mean ‘speak to her’?” Stiles questioned, entirely panicked. 

“Well, we can’t have her running back to the Argents to warn them.” Peter smirked. “Perhaps, I can convince her how beneficial the Bite would be to her-” 

“No!” 

Stiles screamed, his voice filling up the entire cab of the Jeep with the might of his protection toward you. 

“Enough! Okay? Enough. You can do whatever you want with me - I’ll do whatever you want, I swear. And then you can kill me when you’re done with me so I won’t blab.” His voice tightened up around these words, slightly frightened to resign himself to this fate, but he was willing to do whatever it would take to protect you. “Just leave her the hell alone.” 

“And if I don’t?” Peter asked, taunting, clearly enjoying the emotional reaction prompted from Stiles trying to protect you. “What can you possibly do about it?” 

Think. Stiles wanted to bang his head against the steering wheel. Think, think, think, Stiles! You’re supposed to be the clever one. 

An idea popped into his head. 

It wasn’t clever. It wasn’t good. But it was the only idea that he had. 

And when he took one last glance in the rearview mirror and realized that you were about twenty feet back - more than enough to hit the brakes in time - he resigned himself to it. 

He put his seatbelt on, and then - he harshly turned the wheel toward the nearest tree and - he gunned it. 

… 

The crash shocked you. 

You slammed on the brakes as quickly as you could, and came to a stop a few feet behind the tree that Stiles had rammed into. You stumbled out of the driver’s side door in shock, tears in your eyes as you wandered toward the Jeep - which was now nothing more than a heap of twisted metal, smoking, the horn blaring loudly where it was crumbled against the tree. 

“Stiles?” You called out, praying that he would answer you. “Stiles?” 

You slowly came around the car, finally able to get a good view of him through the smashed driver’s side window. 

He was entirely still, collapsed against the air-bag that had emerged from the steering wheel, blood smeared all over the white material. So much blood. It painted the smashed front windshield, dripped through his shirt. He was so still. He wasn’t moving. He-

“Stiles?” 

When he didn’t respond, you let out a loud sob. 

“Stiles? Come on - you - you have to-!” You couldn’t contain another sob as it tore through you, making you utterly breathless. 

You had been so distraught that you didn’t notice the passenger side door was wide open, even though there was not a single trace that anybody had been sitting there. Even if you had noticed, you likely would have chalked it up to the door being flung open from the force of the crash. 

Your ears were pounding with blood from the shock and you didn’t even notice the wolf-like howls echoing into the night above you. 

…

“I thought he was dead.” 

Your body couldn’t contain another sob when you got to this part in the story - finally providing Void with the tears he so desired. 

As you went over the horrors of that night in your mind, they now poured freely down your face. Your pain was made even worse with the stunning realization: Stiles had done it all to protect you. Put himself in danger, gone through so much pain - all to protect you. 

Void smiled at you - a terrible, haunting grin that he mocked you while wearing the face of the man you loved the most. 

“So beautiful.” He hummed, reaching out and wiping your tears - not to comfort you, of course. He gathered the wetness on his fingers and brought it to his lips, licking it. At this, he gave a satisfied sound. “So much pain.” 

“Are we done now?” You asked, wanting to be alone to wallow in your pain. 

Truthfully - you wanted nothing more than the comfort of Stiles. You wanted him to hold you and tell you that everything would be okay in the soothing way that he always did. You wondered if hugging Void would feel the same. You wondered if you could close your eyes and pretend, even for a moment. 

“No.” He told you, enjoying the extra little bit of anguish he could wring from you by telling you this. “Because that wasn’t the worst part, was it?” 

…

“Look, Noah, it’s probably nothing.” Melissa said firmly, doing her best to try and soothe the fellow parent. Sheriff Stilinski had already been at the hospital to take a report on what had happened to Lydia when something else came over the radio - a car accident report about a crash involving a blue Jeep. “Stiles isn’t the only person in this town who drives a-” 

Before she could even get the words out, the paramedics came bursting into the ambulance bay, wheeling in a bloodied, unconscious Stiles on a stretcher with you walking beside them, holding his hand. 

“My boy.” The Sheriff sobbed, rushing to reach them. 

Melissa knew that the doctors would likely need to get him up to the ER with the kind of condition that he was in, so she moved to escort you and the Sheriff to the waiting room. She wrapped an arm around your shoulder, and you refused to be pulled away - you refused to let go of his hand. 

“He needs me.” You bawled, tears still steadily streaming down your face. “He needs me!” 

“Let them work, sweetie, just-” Melissa argued gently, trying to be understanding about the kind of shock you were in. 

“He needs me! He needs me!” 

She held you back, tearing your grip off of Stiles so that he could be escorted to the ER. Melissa began to cradle you comfortingly, rubbing a hand on your shoulder. 

There was only a short moment of silence before-

“What the hell happened?” The Sheriff turned to you, barking the words loudly, obviously yearning for answers about how Stiles had gotten hurt. 

“I - I don’t know.” You answered meekly, feeling intimidated by him. 

“Was he drinking? Were you two partying?” He screamed, getting closer into your space. 

Quickly, Melissa stepped between the two of you, putting a hand on Sheriff Stilinski’s chest to keep him at bay. 

“Noah, stop it-” 

“Was he drinking?” He pressed, forcing the words out slower, as though you were too dumb to understand. 

“What? No!” You quickly replied. “Stiles doesn’t drink!” 

(That had been a lie. You had seen him drink a few times at parties. But you knew that he was a firm proponent of designated sober drivers because of how many accident reports his father had filed from drunk drivers that involved death.) 

“Even if he was, I would never let him drive! Stiles would never let anybody drink and drive because that’s what you taught him!” 

You felt a slight bit of guilt, knowing that you had sipped on Jackson’s bottle and gotten behind the wheel. You wondered if that one single sip made you guilty of the crime that Stiles was so very much against. 

Before you could dwell on it too much, you continued. 

“I took Jackon’s keys from him to keep him from drunk driving! That’s how I followed Stiles in the first place.” 

“You used my car?” Jackson appeared behind you suddenly, taking on an accusatory tone. 

Everyone ignored him. 

“Well? Where was he going? What was he doing? How the hell did this happen?”

“I. Don’t. Know.” You ground out slowly. “It’s not like it was my fault!” 

… 

Void let out another astrid laugh. 

“Oh, but it was.” He grinned. “It was all your fault. How did it feel lying to a police officer about the fact that you almost killed his son?” 

“I wasn’t lying.” You replied, your throat gripped by tears. “I didn’t know.” 

You were glad that you hadn’t known the truth at the time. You weren’t sure if you could have faced the Sheriff, knowing that Stiles’s near death experience had been all your fault. 

“Would you look the Sheriff in the eyes and tell him that now?” Void asked. “Or would you apologize? Tell him that it’s all your fault that stupid, infatuated Stiles crashed his car into a tree trying to save you?” 

“I-” You choked out, truly unsure what to say. “I don’t know.” 

“Would you have taken his place?” Void snipped, quick to berate you with more questions. 

“What?” You parroted back, slightly confused. 

“Would you have taken his place?” He repeated. “You - caught up in that heap of twisted metal, carted off to the hospital to be poked and prodded by doctors, cut up, barely alive? Him - crying at your bedside like a pathetic idiot?” 

You had never considered it. You didn’t think it was wise to dwell on the past or mull-over hypotheticals like that. But truthfully - you thought that what had happened to you was worse. You thought that Stiles got the better end of it, sleeping through most of it while you had to steep in your pain. 

“Y-yes.” You said, hesitating slightly, feeling as though this was the proper, kind answer - saying that you would have taken the physical pain for him - that you would have laid in the bed and taken all of it in his place if you could have. 

“Uh-oh.” Void said, shaking his head. “Nobody likes a liar, Y/N.” 

How he knew that you were lying, you had no clue. 

But you were eager to move on from it before he prodded you about it any further. So you quickly moved on with your story. 

“And then, there was the waiting.” You told him. “We had to wait hours for him to come out of surgery, wondering if he was going to live. And then I waited for weeks by his bedside, wondering if he was ever going to wake up.” 

You swallowed around a painful knot in your throat as you remembered it. 

“So perfectly pathetic, isn’t it?” Void commented. “The way that you showed up to that hospital every single day - spent nights sleeping beside him in an uncomfortable plastic chair, just waiting… every single day waiting to see if he was going to wake up. Or rather - seeing if he was going to finally slip away. Waiting to see if he was finally going to die.” 

You let out more tears and Void sniffed the air again, taking a deep breath, enjoying the depth of your pain. 

“I wish I could have been there.” He remarked. “Every single day, you mourned over him. You cried for him. What a waste of sweet suffering.” 

He let out another laugh. You go do nothing more but sit there and let him mock you, let him indulge in the suffering that you had promised him. 

“You showed up every single day and he didn’t even know it. You talked to him, read to him, played him music… not even knowing if he could hear you. Thinking that he could hear you, but just… hinging it all on that tiny ray of hope.” 

You thought for certain that Void would confirm then and there that Stiles had never heard you when he had been comatose, because before he had said that your hope being broken was ‘delicious’. 

But what he did next hurt so much more.

Because of course, he knew the worst, most perfect ways to hurt you.  

“You read him The Velveteen Rabbit… because he said that his Mommy used to read it to him.” 

Void said, mocking deep in his voice. And then, he put on a shrill impression of you as he spoke again - repeating word for word what you had said to Stiles when you had been at his bedside. Private words that had been meant only for Stiles. 

“‘Stiles, you have to wake up. You have to wake up so we can be together again. Look, I know I messed up before, but… I really like you. I might even love you. Fuck it - I do love you. I’m in love with you, and you - you have to wake up so that I can spend the rest of my life loving you.’” 

He burst into laughter with these last words, cutting right through you. 

“Well, newsflash!” He screamed, startling you with his sudden volume, shaking you. “Stiles isn’t going to wake up this time. He’s never coming back again. You’re going to spend the rest of your life alone.” 

“He will.” You said weakly, knowing how defeated you sounded. “He’ll come back. He’ll come back to me, I know it.” 

You and Void both knew that you were trying to convince yourself with these words. 

Void pulled up his shirt, showing off the long, jagged scar in the middle of Stiles’s stomach - the scar he had from the accident. 

“See this? This is his human weakness.” Void stated. “I came along and I made him into something so much better. I made him strong. I made him-” 

“You ruined him!” You screamed, finally standing from your chair, hyper charged with your own rage now. “You took away everything that made him good - his sweetness, his kindness, his empathy. You-” 

“No, sweetheart.” Void grabbed your face, shutting you up and causing sharp shocks of pain across your head as he roughly jostled you. “Those things have always been his downfall. His stupid kindness and empathy caused him to crash himself into a fucking tree tyring to protect you. You - a dumb bitch who is still willing to put herself this close to a demon who could gut her in a second without a single care.” 

You held your breath. You waited for him to do something more - to truly attempt to harm you. 

And then, after a paralyzing second of staring into those dead eyes - he let you go again. You took a step back. You should have run - you should have run, and run, until you found Scott or someone else. But he was right. You were a dumb bitch. Even now, you couldn’t abandon Stiles. 

“You know, it’s even the same thing right now.” Void grinned. “The minute he gets back the slightest bit of control, he keeps trying to crash the damn car. He keeps trying to protect you!” 

He burst into laughter again, and your insides shook with fear. 

You knew that Stiles ‘crashing the car’ this time would only end with him dying. And you weren’t sure which was worse - him living in there, trapped and tortured while a demon controlled his body - or him killing himself to end all potential harm that Void could do to you and anybody else. 

“Even now, he’s begging me to shove this pathetic little knife into his neck,” He said, taking your knife out of his pocket and raising it up to his jugular. “Just so that there won’t be a single chance of me hurting you.” 

Your chest jumped. 

Upon instinct, you stepped forward and grabbed his wrist, attempting to pull the knife back - but of course, Void was much stronger than you, and his grip didn’t budge. Not even a slight bit. 

Your heart raced as you began to panic. 

“Please, don’t-” You muttered out, knowing that begging was likely your only course of action, whether Void or Stiles was the one in control. 

He grinned. “What are you going to do to stop me?” 

You had an idea. A terrible one. 

You leaned in, sealing your lips onto his - feeling chapped skin against yours and for a moment thinking that you had a one-way ticket to getting stabbed. But then, you felt the stiff, tense form underneath you soften up. You felt a gentle sigh, a sigh of relief leave Stiles’s lips as he pressed back, pushing into the kiss as though he had been yearning for this for centuries. 

The hand holding the knife to his neck shook - sharp spasms going through the muscles as he battled with himself. And after a moment, he dropped the object to the floor with a quiet clatter. Then, he brought that hand to smooth across your back in a gentle, comforting way that could have only been Stiles. 

You pulled away from the kiss after a moment, and when you looked into his eyes, you knew for certain that it was him. The softness, the sadness, the apologetic mourning. 

“Y/N-” He croaked out, releasing a few years of his own. 

“Hang in there, my love.” You told him, reaching up to gently grasp at his cheek. 

And then, just like the sun peeking through on a cloudy day - he was gone. 

Void’s horrible grin took over once again, and all the life dropped out of those eyes. 

“You truly are pathetic.” He said, giving another horrible laugh. 

Perhaps he was trying to convince you that Stiles had never been there, that it had only been a trick, but - you knew what you saw. 

Void hated it. 

It was something that he absolutely hated to admit, but you gave Stiles strength. You were likely the only person in town, likely the only thing on earth that could have given him - a weak, stupid, pathetic human, the strength to overpower the epic thousand year old demon that had taken control. 

In that moment, in an instant, he decided that you had to be eliminated. 

Void didn’t hesitate to reach down and pick up the knife. 

“No-” You gasped out. 

Before you could blink, he grabbed your shoulder, shoved you against a nearby wall, and plunged the small blade into your stomach. He didn’t stop just once - he stabbed you again, and again, and again - creating a flurry of blood and mashing flesh that caused you to gasp from the pain and sheer shock that overtook your body. 

It didn’t hurt as much as you expected it to. It was like a simple pinprick - nothing more painful than a needle piercing your skin for a routine blood sample. But when you felt the intense hot waves of blood pouring out, soaking your clothes - you knew that it was bad. You were already shaking from the shock and you knew that him pressing against you was the only thing still holding you up. 

Void took a tight hold of your face, both your cheeks in one blood-coated hand, and pressed his forehead tightly into yours. 

“Look at her.” He growled out, his voice as sharp and frightening as ever. “Look at her. Look at her while she’s dying.” 

You knew in an instant that he wasn’t talking to you. 

“Look at what you’ve done, Stiles!” He screeched, his voice harsh, almost distorted. “All that begging… all that begging - all for nothing!” 

“It’s okay.” You huffed out, reaching up, your hand surprisingly bloody, trying to touch his cheek in comfort. “It-it’s okay.” 

You were determined to survive this. Or - at the very least - you didn’t want Stiles living with the guilt if you didn’t. 

“Stiles-” 

Void wouldn’t stand for it. This comfort. 

He quickly stamped out this truth with a few more quick, violent jabs of the knife into your gut, forcing Stiles to watch as he violently eviscerated you. 

Then, he tossed the knife aside and let you slump to the floor before he walked away. 

He left you for dead, all too pleased with how utterly the sight of you bloodied and limp tortured Stiles. 

He left you there, not knowing that he left you with just enough determination - just enough life left you to drag your shaking body to the phone and get a bloody hand wrapped around it.

...

Please keep in mind, this is a oneshot, so there will not be a sequel or a 'Part 2'. If you enjoyed this fic, please consider reblogging it to show your appreciation, commenting on this fic, or you can take a look at my Teen Wolf Masterlist for more of my fics from this fandom.

However, please do not comment on this fic asking for a sequel or asking for more - I generally consider that stressful and impolite. If you are going to comment, please comment about the body of work that has been written.

Because I ended the fic the way I did, I do have some ideas for a potential sequel, but it's not something that I am rushing to write, and it's not something that will be on my schedule anytime soon. If you would like to, you can come into my inbox and chat about my ideas for the potential sequel - but right now they are just ideas and they will stay that way for a long time before becoming a full realised story (if they ever become one). I hope you enjoyed this fic as the capsule story oneshot that I always intended for it to be, and that you enjoy my other works if you do check them out.

[allastoredeer]

Hello, don't mind me, I just need to vent for a second.

First off, I just wanna say, as an aroace person on the ace-spectrum, feel free to ship Alastor all you want. Ship him with anyone. Have fun with it. Sex repulsed. Non-sex repulsed. Grey-ace. Demisexual. Pure unadulterated smut. Whatever, have at it. I love that shit.

Just please do it without infantilizing ace-aro people.

The amount of art, fics, and takes I've come across that's so patronizing to Alastor and his sexuality. Thing's like Alastor venting to Rosie about his feelings for a character with the caption "Alastor feeling love for the first time." Or Alastor wanting to have sex with a character and having feelings about that, and someone commenting "That's called a boner, sweetheart. That means you like them 🤭"

Like??? Like do ya'll not see how patronizing that sounds? Being ace-aro doesn't mean you don't know your own body. It doesn't mean you don't understand the functions of your body.

It doesn't mean you've never experienced intense emotions. It doesn't mean you've never experienced love before.

And, look, I know these are meant to be jokes. I know. People are joking. I laughed at the first few I came across, too. It's not meant to be harmful or condescending; no one means it that way. But there's been so much with such...bad takes recently, and I don't know about any other ace-spec people (I don't speak for all ace-specs. Hell, there are probably other ace-spec's who don't mind, enjoy it, or are making content like it themselves. I just speak for myself) but GOD it's getting uncomfortable.

Alastor is in his late 30's-early 40's in human years. That is the established age range we have for him. Do you really think that he'd go that long without ever experiencing "love?" He went through puberty just like everyone else, do you think he doesn't understand his own body???

Being asexual, or sex-repulsed, or touch-repulsed doesn't mean you automatically don't explore these parts of yourself. It doesn't mean he's never, once in his life, touched his own dick, or pussy, or whatever genitalia you're giving him. He can still very well be a "virgin" (which in and of itself is a social construct) while also knowing his body and confidently handling any "sexual needs" he has.

Do you really think he doesn't know what a boner is? That in all the years he's been alive and dead (on Earth and in Hell), he wouldn't have experienced these things once? (And you know what? Maybe he hasn't! Perhaps there are ace's out there like that! But you're telling me he doesn't KNOW what that is??? Really???)

Ah, no, it's all because he just hasn't found the right person yet, right? It's not until Lucifer/Angel Dust/Vox, whoever found him, and they gave him these feelings, and oh no, poor Bambi is feeling twitterpated and horny for the first time, isn't that romantic!

Honestly, not really. It just sounds like the same, stupid shit ace-aro people hear from family, friends, and acquaintances about their sexuality. You know, the tried and true: "Oh, you just haven't found the right person yet. You'll want all that eventually, you'll see😊"

Do you not see how frustrating that is?

Look, I am all down for Alastor exploring parts of himself. I want him to navigate different relationships, feel them out, figure out what kind of relationship he wants and what he's okay and not okay with doing. But there are ways to do that without treating him like a little UwU silly baby boy who doesn't know his own body, or his own emotions, or his own relationships with other characters. Like he needs someone to teach him about himself.

How about instead, he finds someone he feels comfortable exploring these elements with? Instead of them "teaching" him how to fuck, or masturbate, or whatever the hell you want to call it, they're giving him the room and safe-space to explore it at his own pace??!!

It comes across as someone who isn't on the ace-spectrum "teaching" an ace-spec character about their own sexuality which puts such a gross taste in my mouth. Or, at least, that's how it comes across to me.

And the thing is, I know people aren't going to stop. I know they're going to keep infantilizing Alastor and his aro-ace identity, and I wasn't originally going to make this post, because you can't control what people do in fandom.

So this is mostly just a post to say: HEY! Hello! Ace-aro person here! I hope you all are having fun and I love that you're exploring Alastor's asexual/aromantic identity! Especially those who may not be in the ace-spectrum themselves, as you're learning about us and our experiences! That's awesome! Can we just do that while also treating Alastor like the adult he is? Can we do that without being infantilizing and patronizing about his sexual identity? Please?"

That's all I really wanted to say. I just needed to get this off my chest instead of letting it fester. This isn't an attack on anyone, this is just the perspective of an Alastor multi-shipper who loves exploring his relationships with other characters (sexually and non-sexually) and deep-diving into the dynamics of the show.

Thanks for reading.

[antianakin]

how do you interpret codywan?

I suppose I should've seen this one coming.

So, the appeal for me with Codywan is the idea of these two people in impossible positions during what is a really dark time for them both overall learning to rely on each other and trust each other. They come from such radically different backgrounds, but somehow those backgrounds also allow them to understand each other in a way few others have (discounting the Jedi for Obi-Wan and the clones for Cody). There's a feeling of equality and respect between them as they fight beside each other and the other person starts to become more real because they can see the other person get tired and bleed, mourn and celebrate. And from that, they start picking up on the other little things about each other that turn them from General and Commander who respect each other professionally to friends who care about each other personally.

They AREN'T the most important person in each other's lives. They don't necessarily understand each other better than literally anybody else they've ever met. Cody will have relationships with other clones that are very meaningful to him, and lots of shared history with other clones that Obi-Wan simply cannot hope to replicate. Likewise, Obi-Wan has relationships with other Jedi that have lasted DECADES before he ever even meets Cody, and other Jedi will have a deeper understanding of that part of Obi-Wan that Cody just doesn't and never will. But Cody and Obi-Wan do go through an experience together that binds them, an experience that is uniquely their own. They mean a lot to each other and they are important to each other, but they aren't necessarily the center of each other's lives nor does their relationship eclipse everything else they care about.

Cody and Obi-Wan are one of the relationships that, to me, is most appealing when it's VERY Jedi in nature. From an outside perspective (a non-Jedi one), it might not even look like they're in a romantic relationship at all. Their relationship is their business and neither one feels the need to flaunt it publicly. They're happy the way they are and just because they don't follow the usual standards of what constitutes a romantic relationship doesn't mean they're doing it wrong or that it doesn't exist. I mentioned in the last ask about shipping that I'm aroace, and that tends to impact my view of Codywan, too. I tend to like interpreting them as something in the realm of a qpr (which is how I define ALL Jedi relationships because I don't think most Jedi relationships that work and/or last would look all that similar to what society tends to portray as a typical romantic relationship). In a happy fix-it AU scenario, Obi-Wan and Cody aren't necessarily spending all their time in each other's presence, they may not even live together, they're not constantly touching or making sexual innuendos with each other, they don't have pet names for each other or use endearments.

They both have such a strong sense of duty that meshes well together. Obi-Wan is a staunch Jedi and that means he feels compassion for everyone in the galaxy and is dedicated to helping everyone in the galaxy. Cody is someone who was forced into a life of service, but I like to interpret him as someone who, after meeting the Jedi and getting to know them better, decides that he still WANTS a life of service if he gets the opportunity to choose. He wants, more than anything, to be able to help people. He wants to bring peace and protect people when he can, he wants to represent something greater than himself. This allows them to be happy and fulfilled in their relationship without either of them needing to prioritize the relationship above everything else in their lives.

Obi-Wan enjoys Cody's wit, his steady presence and level head in a crisis, and that he's a sponge for any knowledge he can get his hands on. Cody enjoys Obi-Wan's compassion for life, his zest for learning and desire to pass on knowledge, and his thrill for adventure (whether Obi-Wan would call it that or admit to it or not). They both know they can rely on each other to get the job done without letting emotions get in the way, but they also know that at the end of the day, they can relax and be themselves with each other and find acceptance no matter what. I think Cody probably grows a lot through his relationship with Obi-Wan, that it allows him to understand himself in a way he hadn't been able to do before, and Cody provides an anchor point for Obi-Wan during a time when he's often separated from his regular support system.

I've seen people say that the appeal of Codywan for them is the yearning, but I don't think that that's it at all for me. The appeal in it for me is that it ISN'T something that causes them pain, but something that only really ever brings them joy. Even with Cody being pretty new to relationships in general, I think that he and Obi-Wan are both people who just end up enjoying the feeling of being in live, regardless of whether you think that person is in love with you back or not. They both glean pleasure from making the other person happy or even just SEEING the other person happy. Their relationship flows pretty easily from a professional respect to a friendly rapport to love without there being an obvious distinction between the different stages. They love each other, and it's not an issue that needs to be solved, but an experience to be savored.

None of this means that they never have disagreements or things like that, but Cody's steadiness combined with Obi-Wan's Jedi teachings means that they're pretty good at managing their disagreements without them becoming full-blown fights or major conflicts. Communication would not be one of their problems.

One of the things I like about Codywan is that what we know about them lends itself to an interpretation that they are the OPPOSITE of Anidala. Anidala is defined by its desperation, its secrecy and lies, its lack of healthy communication with each other, its melodrama and heightened emotion at all times, and the pain and fear at its core that leads to its own destruction. My personal interpretation of Codywan is the opposite of all of that. It's not defined by desperation and pain and fear and melodrama, but by smaller things that perhaps make for a less compelling story to people. So many fics turn Codywan into a variation of Anidala, with one or the both of them unable to admit to their own feelings and stuck in a cycle of their feelings for each other causing them little but pain. But if I wanted Anidala, I'd just read or watch Anidala. I want Codywan to feel DIFFERENT than Anidala in pretty much every way. I want their relationship to be based on honesty and trust and simple small moments feeling more romantic than grand gestures. There's no melodrama in my version of Codywan unless they're playing it up as a joke in front of somebody else.

[ckret2]

Weird question, but do you think ford is/was repressed or in denial? Filbrick doesn't seem like a very understanding parent, and I notice throughout all the lavish praise Ford heaps on Bill he stops short of outright saying he has a crush, which I think hints at ford being unaware that he has feelings for Bill because You Only Get That for the Opposite Gender (and assumes a god like bill is way above his league). The "girls will talk to me" quote in particular seems very much like someone trying and failing to fit himself into heteronormative standards and just chalking it up to social awkwardness, and the way he clings to Bill reminds me very much of a first gay relationship, where the fear of being rejected is magnified tenfold by thinking that literally no one else in the world will love you. Sorry, this became a whole essay, I just have so many thoughts about billford and have spent hours combing through gf Tumblr analayzing their relationship.

You're asking me about what I actually think is true so that's the perspective from which I'm starting here.

First, let me say that I think headcanons are like dartboards. There are some "canonest" headcanons—even if they're not confirmed true, they feel like they're at the bullseye at the very center of canon-compatible possibilities, the thing most likely to be true if canon were ever to directly explore it.

And then there are the "this isn't what I think they'd actually do if canon were ever to go there, but based on what we currently know this headcanon is still canon-compatible." These are the headcanons that are on the dartboard but on an outer ring, not a bullseye.

I think the "bullseye" interpretation of Ford's sexuality is that he's aromantic. Possibly ace as well, but this isn't as firm—Ford does talk like he finds the idea of a committed romantic relationship bizarre, but he doesn't talk like he doesn't understand the idea of being attracted to someone, making me think maybe he does feel sexual desire.

And if that's what Ford is, then he didn't say he had a crush on Bill because he didn't. He was obsessed with Bill, he considered Bill the most important person in his life, he respected him and admired him and liked him more than anybody else, he'd rather spend time with him than with anyone else... but, it's a platonic obsession. It's not in any way weaker for being platonic instead of romantic, but it's platonic. Queerplatonic relationship type territory.

He talks about girls talking to him someday because, for lack of any better evidence, he assumes he must be heterosexual because he has no positive proof otherwise, so he figures he probably just hasn't met the right girl, right? And he hasn't met the right girl because he's so unpopular no girls want to talk to him. Once he meets the Right Girl, he assumes he'll Get It then—because that's what a lotta aros (and aces!) think for the longest time before it dawns on them that that's never coming. (It's possible he even has been sexually attracted to women, further obscuring his aromanticism from himself. He did date a siren at one point. But tbh I don't think it's highly likely.)

That's my "bullseye" "canonest" interpretation of Ford's sexuality.

Now, my personal "on the outer ring of the dartboard" headcanon is that Ford's sexuality is, in extremely professional terminology, demiromantic monsterfucker.

He has felt sexual attraction, he is not in denial or repressing his sexual attraction in any way, he's accepted this about himself; however, everything he's been attracted to is, like... Mothra. or Cthulhu. or a weird singing fish-bird, i.e. that siren.

80% of the time he's had sex it's not even motivated by sexual desire but by other platonic motives. If the Hide-Behind ever hit on him, he would eagerly accept just to find out and document what Hide-Behind mating behaviors are like without ever once stopping to think "but am I attracted though?" Like he'll have a fine time, he isn't repulsed, but he's not doing it out of desire.

He does have the potential to fall in love—he has the potential to fall in love with Bill—but again, I headcanon he didn't say he had a crush on Bill because he didn't. It was slowly building over the course of several years. He was like 97% of the way there...

... when Bill revealed his evil plan and started torturing Ford.

So it never quite tipped over.

Thirty years later, Ford's got enough self-insight to realize that even though he wasn't "in love" with Bill, he was 1) very close, and 2) feeling something platonically strong enough that ultimately, that slight difference doesn't really matter.

I can also see him as just not feeling, understanding, or caring about the dividing line between romantic and platonic.

In either version of my headcanons, I don't think Ford was "repressed"/"in denial" about having "gay" feelings. He's got enough issues, I'm not interested in tossing internalized homophobia on top of it—especially when from college onward he's all about celebrating outsiders and weirdness. At most he'd be a case of queer ignorance where he hasn't explored himself enough to figure out what he is.

Tbh I don't think he's any more likely to be attracted to human men than he would be to human women—and if he did fully fall in love with Bill, I don't think Bill, O Wondrous Interdimensional Muse Whose Body Is A Frigging Triangle, would ping Ford as "male" enough for Ford to feel like his own attraction is "gay."

[lurkingshan]

Knock Knock Boys: The Unexpected Delight of the Summer Season

Who would have thought that this little under appreciated pulp would come in and steal the Thai BL summer season with so many bigger, shinier, more expensive shows on air? Not me! But here we are, and Knock Knock Boys is going down as one of my unexpected favorites of 2024.

I liked this show from the start, with its premise of four men, each dealing with various Life Situations, coming to live together in a shared home and developing natural friendships and romantic attachments. Each episode begins with a cold open that puts us squarely in the middle of their latest shenanigan and then we jump back to work our way there over the course of the episode. The writing is clever, the directing and editing is zippy and fun, and the whole thing is founded on queer and sex positive themes. I expected it to be a sexy, comedic romp with a sprinkle of mystery as we learned more each week about what these boys were running from.

And it is that, sometimes. But it is also a surprisingly touching story of queer friendship and finding yourself and your tribe and building courage to live an authentic life with the support of your loved ones. It's a story about making the effort to understand and giving each other space to figure ourselves out. It's a story about the importance of communication and giving others a chance to come through for you. It’s a story about how true friendship and patience and empathy can empower someone to change their life.

And it's also a touching romance, times two. Latte and Almond were the favorites all the way through for most of us watching, and seeing them go from friends to something more to proper boyfriends was so lovely. What I loved most about their arc together is how gently it advanced; despite Latte starting the show as our resident sexually experienced pansexual, he was also clear that sex and relationships are meaningful to him, and we saw that in how he pursued Almond with utmost patience. Almond was completely inexperienced and fixated on another guy when they met, and Latte was his genuine friend in helping him sort through his feelings and move on from Jumper before he was a prospective love interest. When Almond became more aware of the attraction between them and they began dating, it all felt natural, as did the progression of their physical intimacy. They are precious and their relationship has such a strong foundation that it's easy to believe they'll stay together long term.

Perhaps most surprising to me is how much I ended up loving the Peak and Thanwa romance, as well. Peak's journey, and the way it ultimately landed, is what sent this show into the stratosphere, and it's where that theme about patience that I mentioned above comes through most strongly. For much of their story, Peak and Thanwa were caught in a frustrating cycle of constantly misunderstanding each other, and it was mostly down to Peak's failure to communicate about his family situation and the way it was restricting him. These two kept missing beats, refusing to talk, and hurting each other because they just couldn't get it together to clear the air, and that can be hard to watch episode to episode. But once we have the full picture, Peak's behavior becomes understandable, both to Thanwa and to us, and we can only join his friends in rooting for him and giving him strength to be brave. And he was, in one of the most satisfying and heartwarming scenes I've seen in bl this year.

I just can't recommend this show highly enough, and I've kept things somewhat vague above because I hope more of you will watch it now that it's over and available for a binge. This show is not perfect, but it's so heartfelt and you will be rewarded in the end. You can find the show on Gaga and the small but mighty crew of us regular viewers screaming about it every week in the tag. You don't want to miss it!

[bonny-kookoo]

Jungkook/platonic!OT7

𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐖𝐢𝐥𝐝 [Part 4: Skies]

In which you realize that you're no longer alone.

Main tags/Warnings: Werewolf!Jungkook, Werewolf!Bangtan, strangers/enemies to lovers, romantic Jungkook x reader, Platonic bangtan x reader, eventual smut, mentions of past emotional/psychological manipulation, hurt and comfort, fluff!, some Angst, mostly fluff tho

Length: 5k words

There is no taglist for this fic.

-> Masterlist

A/N: hi I really like this fic and I refuse to let it end up in the basement

🌲── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ─🐺─ ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──🌲

You've become rather stubborn and even after consulting a specialist- you just refuse to take any of the meds despite Jungkook's clear advice to take them for now. And while he can understand you, somewhat, there are simply consequences to that choice you made.

"I'll leave your groceries in front of your door then." He says with a sigh, and you feel yourself sit straighter now at the other end of the call. "It's probably not a good idea for me to actually come inside if you're off your meds-" he begins, and you panic.

"I can just take them right now!" You hurry out, not wanting to be alone. "I can take them now, and you.. come back later? I don't know.." You mumble, and Jungkook fights a little with himself as he walks into the hallway of your apartment building to enter the elevator, finger of the hand that's holding the plastic bag pressing the right button. "I don't want to be alone.." You say, and he sighs, running a hand through his hair in front of your door.

"Listen, I know, trust me I get it." He says. "But I'm not sure what the effect of me might be on you right now." He admits. "You might feel like you want me close right now, but once I'm there that could instantly change. Those mood swings can be wild, I'm telling you!" He laughs, attempting to change your mind.

"...how do you know?" You wonder quietly, though you're not sure if you want to know the answer to that. Of course he's probably been with other wolves in the past. Pretty ones who know themselves well and are proud and all that. Maybe he's seeing someone right now. You wouldn't be surprised- he's pretty handsome and a nice guy too.. one would be stupid to pass up on an opportunity to date him. Do wolves even date? Or do they just kind of.. live in a pack?

What do wolf-relationships look like? And why do you even think about that with him? He's clearly just your friend, nothing more than that.

"My mom is an omega." Jungkook cuts through your thoughts. "And trust me, she kicks me out randomly whenever I visit unannounced just because she can't stand my alpha-smell!" He laughs, but you're quiet. Of course his parents are wolves too. Yours were one's too- but you'll never have that at all. You'll never have that kind of family that Jungkook has. And even if he was interested in you, what would his parents even think of you?

A girl that was hidden away because her own stepmother was ashamed of what she was. Who'd want that?

"Hey." Jungkook speaks through the phone, before he knocks on your door. "Let's.. maybe you can take a peak and decide if you can handle it?" He offers as a compromise, and you get up to answer the door, unsure what he's talking about since you don't feel anything at all the moment you crack the door open to look at him dressed in a leather jacket.

And then it hits you, and you know exactly what he meant- though not in the way he explained it.

You're basically salivating at the thought of having him close- and it's not at all in any sexual sense whatsoever. Just the sight of him makes you feel like you're starving, like you're gonna pass out if he's not holding you up any second now, and he visibly seems to understand as he gently pushes the door a bit further open. "You can kick me out any time." He reassures you. "Won't be mad at all, promise." Jungkook makes sure you know, and you nod, stepping back reluctantly to let him inside.

You feel like a creep. He could literally have a girlfriend and you're here acting like he's your long lost army husband coming home from war!

"I bought all that you said you needed, and some extra things, just in case." He explains as he sets the bag down in the kitchen, before he turns, probably some of his senses tingling or something as you simply nod at him, avoiding eye contact. He doesn't really elaborate on what 'just in case' means- but you're also not in the mood for any of it, body not feeling like your own at the moment. "You know, it's okay to give in." He chuckles. Considering you've not kicked him out yet, and going after your scent alone, he knows exactly what you're struggling with.

"No.. I- I don't want to overstep some boundary, you know.." You shrug to yourself. "I know.. I know I wouldn't want my boyfriend to like, cuddle with some stranger girl in her apartment and all that.." You begin, before you cringe. "Oh god I don't know why I brought that up I'm sorry-"

"It's completely fine, really." He laughs. "And understandable. Omegas tend to be pretty physical most of the time- nothing wrong with that." Jungkook explains. "And- I also don't have a girlfriend right now, so no worries there either." The wolf tells you, making you nod a bit awkwardly.

You feel nauseous even though you've actually taken at least the minimum of your medication before he came, just out of panic. It's like you're going to cry and sob and throw a tamper tantrum if he's not getting close in the next few minutes. This is stupid. How long will it take for your dumb pills to take effect and make you normal again?

What even is normal at this point?

Jungkook moves to shed his jacket, a wave of his scent hitting you so much it makes you have to adjust your position a little as to not sway and fall over, and if he noticed he chooses not to comment on it, simply leading you towards something he's already spotted.

Your couch is covered in blankets and pillows and sweaters even. You're nesting, and you probably have no idea you're even doing it.

"I have to cook though-" you weakly argue, absolutely his slave however as he sits down in the blanket mess with you, helping you to lean closer to him- and the moment you catch his scent so strong, you're a goner, all shame thrown out the window as you pretty much push him onto his back to lay on him, arms and legs around him to keep him close and immobile- but all he does is laugh a little under his breath and grab a stray blanket thrown over the back of the couch to put it over your back. He moves a bit to adjust the things underneath his head and back a bit, but he soon settles, hand on your back running up and down in a soothing motion.

It's not all that bad actually, at least not when he's around like this.

You can feel how heightened your senses are like this- from your hearing to your sense of smell and even taste, somehow the tips of your fingers feel more sensitive to touch just as much. "...will I ever get used to it?" You worry, and Jungkook nods.

"I'm sure of it." He agrees optimistically. "And I'll be there every step of the way." Jungkook promises, making you cling just a little closer to him.

And as you fall asleep, he can't help but think just how good you feel in his arms like this, safe and protected-

and most of all warm, as your scent lulls him to sleep as well.

🌲── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ─🐺─ ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──🌲

When you wake up a few hours later, it seems like you're getting a taste of what Jungkook's wolf behaviour can actually look like if he's not awake enough to really control himself like he does whenever he’s typically around you these days.

Because the moment you attempt to get up, a growl leaves him, rumbling from deep within his chest- a warning for you to stay put, as he instead moves around a bit with his arms around you, and at this point, it's his body that almost entirely covers yours, as if to hide you away beneath him. There's no sexual intentions, that much is clear- and it also, surprisingly, doesn't scare you.

Like a voice is there, deep down in the back of your brain, telling you that this isn't something to be panicking about.

But you really need to go use the bathroom, bladder screaming for you to get up and relieve yourself- so you slip out under his arms, before you rush to enter the small room, closing the door behind you. It’s odd how.. Good you feel with him in your home, like there’s nothing to worry about at all as long as he’s here. Even the thought of your potential future to come doesn’t appear as scary as it usually does.

He’d told you you’ll be part of his pack if you end up failing your evaluation. So you’ll be fine, right?

Will Namjoon even accept you? He appeared to be very friendly, so he might. But there’s always a potential that having a female in the group could prove to be too difficult to handle. Would Jungkook stay with you in that case? Or at least help you find another pack that wants you?

You’re drying your hands after washing them when you hear something fall in the living room, opening the bathroom door to take a look- when Jungkook exhales in relief at the sight of you, visibly distressed. “Something wrong?” You wonder, and he shakes his head, running a hand through his hair to sort himself.

“No- no no, just.. Some stupid instinct stuff, don’t worry about it.” He laughs off, though you can see how he fidgets around still, so you walk a little closer, unsure.

“I.. Uhm, can I help you?” You ask, and he looks up at that, a bit confused. “I mean, you look a little.. I don’t know. I feel like I should do something to help you..” You mumble, and at that, his expression softens.

“It’s called nurturing instinct.” He explains. “Common with wolves of your subgender. But uh.. Mostly towards, you know.. Young wolves or..” He fidgets around a bit again, before he plays with his lip piercing. “..or.. towards mates.” He shrugs, as if he doesn’t care- but he does a horrible job at masking his emotions.

“Oh.” You simply answer, a bit surprised. “Does one like.. Choose a mate? Or is it some sort of..” Jungkook laughs a little, walking towards the mess of blankets on the couch with you, where you instantly hide your legs beneath the soft fabrics, Jungkook doing the same before his hands reach out to help you adjust the blankets.

“It’s not some magical soulmate thing.” He chuckles. “People believe it is, but it’s not.” He shrugs. “It’s just a combination of.. Emotional connection and some instincts sprinkled in. Really not that different from regular relationships.” He explains to you, and you nod.

“So because I like you, I want to.. Take care of you?” You wonder, and he nods, before his head snaps towards you, as if he just realized what you said. “What?”

“Nothing!” He barks out almost, looking away. “Just uh.. I like you too. So, that’s why I got.. Kind of clingy earlier when we were asleep.” He mumbles.

“Oh. It didn’t actually bother me at all.” You make sure to tell him. “Just.. I needed to pee, so that’s why I kind of ran off like that.” You giggle, visibly making him relax again.

“I was about to apologize the hell out of that situation.” He laughs. “I- it’s something my pack is a bit worried about. I’m not just a standard alpha after all, and neither are you just an omega. So they wonder if I could become a bit too much for you to handle, considering your situation.” He admits.

“Your pack cares too.” You shrug, and he nods. “I appreciate that. I.. don’t know why I’m so calm now, I think it’s probably some sort of instinct stuff since you’re here-” You say, before you get comfortable under all the blankets again. “-but I feel.. A lot more calm about all of this.”

“Yeah that might just be.. Well, me.” He laughs, watching you get comfortable next to him. “I tend to have that effect on people. Even my own pack.” Jungkook explains, settling down as well now.

There’s a bit of silence between the two of you, a moment Jungkook uses to watch you for a little bit, especially the way you seem to look at his hands with a bit of longing almost. “We should.. Practice for my evaluation.” You mumble, but he just chuckles.

“We got time.” He softly disagrees. “Right now I want to.. Figure out what kind of ‘liking’ you were talking about earlier.” He teases, leaning his head on the backrest of the couch while you whine in complaint, squirming a bit. “Come on, you can tell me! I wanna know.” Jungkook presses, and you huff.

“...it’s probably just.. Your smell or something.” You deny, but he grins impishly.

“Just told you though, it doesn’t work like that.” He laughs. “If you’re not sure yet I get it- but I’d like to know if there’s.. At least some sort of connection that you feel towards me. So I know where I’m at.” The wolf shrugs. “Or rather what I can aim at.”

“Aim?” You wonder.

“In terms of, if it’s okay for me to.. Approach you romantically.” He admits.

“Would you.. Want that?” You ask, and he nods.

“But only if you’re okay with it too.” Jungkook makes sure to let you know. “Right now, I’m not head over heels or anything like that. Just.. Interested. You seem like the kind of girl I’d be happy with.” He admits. “But if you don’t have any interest in me like that, that’s cool too. I’ll simply be your friend then.” He explains to you, and you nod.

“I.. I like you.. Like that. But I don’t want something like.. Right now.” You admit.

“Alright, fair.” He nods. “Wasn’t going to jump you right here and now anyways. Just wanted to know where you’d like to go with me.” He shrugs.

“Is it okay if we like.. Take it slow?” You ask, and he nods.

“Absolutely.” the wolf agrees, and at that, you calm down, visibly so- making him relax as well as he settles down with you, holding you close beneath the numerous blankets on the couch.

Falling asleep with you just a little longer, because you’ve got time, after all.

🌲── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ─🐺─ ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──🌲

“What’s this all about?” You ask, as the employee closes the door to the room, leaving you alone with a wolf you’re not familiar with.

Jungkook has told you he’d like to ask his pack to help prepare you for both your upcoming evaluation, and for what’s to come in general- and you agreed to let them help you, which brought you into todays situation. Min Yoongi has tagged along with Jungkook to a training center specializing in instinct control and helps young wolves practice around in a safe environment. It also offers some specific physical therapy for elderly that struggle with shifting- and you feel oddly taken care of here, everything looking very inviting, bright and clean.

“Jungkook will be watching from the outside.” Yoongi tells you, nodding towards what appears to be a mirror- but is actually a one-way window.

“Why isn’t he here?” You worry a little, sitting down in the middle of the room like the instructor had explained to you earlier. You’re wearing simple clothing- just a top, comfortable leggings, socks, no shoes. You had to take off all jewellery and accessories outside, just like the wolf sitting in front of you with a good amount of distance.

There’s no furniture inside here. The walls and the floor are padded. Insulated. Scratch-resistant, as the employee had told you with pride.

“Because this won’t be pleasant.” Yoongi says with honesty.

“What’s.. Gonna happen to me?” You ask timidly. You actualy appreciate how honest and upfront Yoongi is- he seems very rough and nonchalant, but you like that he’s not masking his words or emotions.

It’s comforting.

“It’s different for everyone.” He explains. “The only thing you need to keep in mind is that nothing is going to happen to you.” The wolf offers. “You won’t be harmed. You can’t die here. You’re safe.” He tells you, when a short tune plays, signalling an announcement.

“We’ll begin the training now. Please try and stay relaxed.” The instructor says, and you look at Yoongi uneasy, a very faint sound being emitted from a corner before it stops again.

It’s quiet between the two of you. You’re not sure what you’re training for, right now.

Suddenly, you feel weird. Your muscles ache, as if you’ve sat in an odd position all day, bones stiff as you shiver a little. You’re not cold, but your fingers still tingle as if you’ve been holding ice all day- lips becoming dry. “You can move freely, by the way.” Yoongi offers, voice a lot gentler now. “Everyone deals with this differently.”

“Deals with what differently?” You ask, adjusting your legs a little before you arch your back, unable to get rid of that odd unease you have in your limbs.

“Shifting.”

Your eyes snap towards him, and he even cracks a smile for a second, before he adjusts his own position a bit. “You won’t be actually shifting right now, don’t worry.” He reassures you. “But you will feel like it. Or at least, it’ll feel similar.” He offers.

You’re standing up now. Pacing. You can’t stand still.

Whatever it is, it’s making you feel like your clothes are itchy, burning in every spot they touch your skin. You’re trembling too, as if you’re freezing- but you don’t feel cold at all, if anything, it’s the opposite. You run your hands through your hair. For some reason it bothers you, makes you want to pull it out from your scalp.

Tears knock at the backs of your eyes. Why do you feel like crying?

“Why- why do you not.. React at all?” You ask, trying to distract yourself. Yoongi shrugs.

“I’ve been shifting for years. I’m used to it.” He offers. “It’s not like I don’t feel it. I just handle it better.”

You take a deep breath, remembering what he’d told you. You’re fine, you’ll be okay, nothing is going to happen to you.

“Jungkook is probably just as fidgety as you right now.” The alpha chuckles.

“Why?” You wonder, walking around aimlessly before your entire situation gets worse. You don’t know this, but on the other side of the room’s one-way window, you’re very much constantly watched by both Jungkook, and trained staff to make sure you’re alright. Your vitals are being measured.

You’re safe, just like Yoongi said.

Though Jungkook still feels oddly uneasy watching you like that, the way you begin to cry from the sheer discomfort you feel, instincts so clear now as you walk towards a corner to rest your back against it, curling up on yourself with your backside against the wall. He wants to comfort you, help you feel better, but he knows it’s better like this. They won’t put you through the full course today- just a taste, to ease you into things.

You’re doing great already. He feels oddly proud almost.

Yoongi watches you from his spot, looking almost completely unfazed by it all. What he does do however is slowly approach you as you whimper to yourself, curled up into a ball as you try and fight this all on your own. Jungkook watches as the wolf in the room with you sits right in front of you, gaining your attention.

“You’re not alone.” He tells you, making you watch him while your head feels ready to burst open like a balloon. “and it would be the smartest decision to realize that now.”

“...why.” You ask, barely heard.

“Because the help you need is right in front of you.” He says, and it takes you a moment to realize what he’s saying. So, as you slowly open up a bit more, you let yourself just exist.

Jungkook is right. The only way to face this properly, is to accept it all first and foremost.

And so you let your instincts do their thing, as Yoongi seems to instantly catch onto it, opening his arms to accept you clinging to him. It’s normal omega behavior- the company and affection of packmates ease a lot of pain and anxieties, and you feel it right now, too, as you let him hold you.

It doesn’t magically make this experience easy- but it makes it definitely more manageable.

The second the training is over, you feel immediate relief- something hissing in the corners of the room, and it’s as if you can finally breathe fresh air again, throbbing head finally easing up. You basically melt into a puddle of tired muscle and he’s quick to hold you, surprisingly comforting as he watches the door open to let in Jungkook.

“Hey.” He softly tells you, and you reach out to him- though you stay close go Yoongi as well, somewhat surprised how Jungkook doesn’t seem to mind at all. Maybe because they’re friends? Maybe that’s why there’s no obvious jealousy.? “you did great.” He praises, and you lean back from Yoongi to compose yourself again, wiping your cheeks in embarrassment.

“..that was.. odd.” You mumble, and Jungkook helps you stand up again, both wolves leading you out the room to have one last checkup before you leave again. “so that’s.. somewhat what shifting will feel like?” You ask a nurse, who laughs.

“a little. It’s not quite the same- but the simulation is the best we have to prepare you for it.” She explains, while she checks your vitals. “and considering that you have a pack, you’ll do just fine. The first time is always scary.” She smiles, looking at Jungkook who happily nods, while Yoongi has his back turned towards you.

Back home, by yourself, you let the entire day run through you once more. From the feelings in the room, to the way Yoongi soothed you, up towards Jungkook driving you back home- things are so much different than what you thought wolves would live like. This feels a lot more intertwined and connected than your own family life ever did- why would your mother keep that from you?

Maybe you’ll call her, in the future. To ask her why she took care of you even if she knew what you were. To question why she would even involve herself with a child like you were if she hated wolves so much.

But not today.

And not tomorrow, either.

🌲── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ─🐺─ ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──🌲

This is embarrassing.

You can’t sleep. You keep waking up, windows open or windows closed, you feel watched, chased, never safe. And the worst is when you actually do end up asleep, you dream of Jungkook, and the pack, and then you wake up and realize you’ve barely slept half an hour even.

Your eyes sting whenever you close them. You feel drained, and it’s not even three in the morning.

Are they still awake too? Probably not. They all have their routines down, their a pack, a family, something you can only really fantasize about. What if you’ll disrupt that peace and quiet they have established for themselves? Sure, Jungkook didn’t seem to mind you clinging to Yoongi yesterday, but what about the rest of his fanily- surely this will just end in disaster.

You sit up in bed. You can’t sleep.

You turn on a documentary on your phone to watch, but it really doesn’t help much to force you into slumber- if anything, the screen just starts to give you a headache, so you stop the video after not even twenty minutes in. This is stupid. You never had issues sleeping- so why now?

You’re only taking half the dosage of your medication that you used to get. And this dose will be cut in half by the end of the month as well, to slowly prepare you for the time when you’ll be off of them entirely.

You already have pamphlets and little books about the changes to come- from your first instincts pushing through, to other.. intimate things, such as how your periods will change, and what to expect from your first heat. It’s a lot to take in, really, and while doing your research these days, you realized just how complex the world of a werewolf really is. From specialized hotels that care for lone wolves during their heats, to other programs helping single packless wolves stay healthy in mind and soul. Weekly social activities, phone counseling, personal health care just for wolves without a pack make you feel oddly comforted.

You’re not alone. That’s the slogan almost all these companies use on their ads.

Maybe you should make an appointment soon. Just to have things figured out- and so that Jungkook doesn’t feel like his pack has to take you in. Sure, You like him, and it’s clear that he likes you too, but is that enough? Can wolves from different packs even be together?

There’s so much you still need to learn. Just thinking about it makes your head spin.

Your phone vibrates with a message. You tap on it, to see the sender- Jungkook- still online.

‘Hey, just wanted to check in if you’re alright.’ Is written, and you reply.

‘Yeah, why do you ask?’ You respond with, and he instantly starts to type on the other end.

‘I couldn’t sleep.’ He sends you. ‘neither could Yoongi, and then I saw you were online half an hour ago’ he continues. ‘so I figured you must be still up’

‘I can’t sleep.’ You admit, and at that, your phone vibrates with an incoming call from him.

“Why didn’t you say so?” He yawns, and you’re a bit confused. “Yoongi said you’ve been up since around one or two AM.” He chuckles.

“How does he know?” You wonder astonished, when the lower voice answers.

“I was working, and saw you online multiple times.” He chuckles. “It’s not rocket science.”

“Oh.” You mumble, realizing that it was actually pretty reasonable. He was probably texting with someone and checked up on you as well- but that doesn’t explain why Jungkook seems to know as well. “But wait, why can’t Jungkook sleep?” You ask.

“Because we’ve bonded more than you did with Yoongi.” He replies. “it’s like.. an instinct you could say. I could sense something off.” He tells you, and you just take it in. All of this is so complex and difficult to understand sometimes.

“Its most likely the stress from yesterday.” Yoongi reassures. “either that, or your instincts are pushing through. You’re an omega- they don’t do well on their own.” He bluntly states, while you hear some clicking from a computer mouse. “did you not tell her she could sleep here as well?”

“What, no I did!” Jungkook defends himself. “I think? Wait, I did tell you, right?” He asks you now, and you think for a second.

“uhm.. I don’t think so?” You answer. “but even so, I wouldn’t want to intrude-“

“Jungkook are you a whelp?” yoongi is heard scolding.

“I forgot!” He defends himself. “hey- okay so, you can really sleep here as well, it’s no bother, believe me.” Jungkook tells you now. “Namjoon was actually wondering why you aren’t here yet. His cousin is an omega too, so he knows how to handle a lot of stuff.” He explains.

“Wouldn’t it be.. awkward?” You ask, hesitating.

“Tripping in public is awkward, yet millions of people do it everyday.” Yoongi answers stoically. “if you want to stay here, stay here. If you don’t, don’t. We wouldn’t be offering it if we wouldn’t be okay with you.” Yoongi explains, and oddly enough, it helps you feel better.

“..is there anything specific I should take along with me?” You start, when Jungkook cuts you off.

“I’ll help you pack your stuff-“ he starts, when something clattering is heard. “what?”

“Jungkook you dog, it’s four in the morning!” Yoongi whines. “You’re going to wake up the whole pack!” He complains, when a door is heard opening. “see? Now Jimin is awake and that means the entire woods know about it!”

“Hey, what’s that supposed to mean!” the new voice argues, before he laughs. “I’m just curious, you’re acting like spies in here.”

“did you- Jimin, you left the door open!” Yoongi complains. “and the stupid kid left his phone here too..” he sighs, while you can’t help but laugh.

“Well, at least she’s having fun.” Jimin giggles along.

“For now. Wait until she finds out Jungkook snores in his sleep.” Yoongi teases.

“Hey, it’s not that bad!” Jungkook complains, making them laugh as their voices fade into the background, the wolf having taken back his phone after having grabbed the car keys. “I’m gonna come over now, and we can either nap first and pack later, or pack first and nap later.” He tells you.

“Its.. thank you.” You tell him.

“No problem.” He answers easily.

“you’re not alone.”

[tealvenetianmask]

Hi all. Here's my take on why Stolas doesn't need a whole rebound relationship with the Better Than Blitzo guy or Vassago or anyone.

It baffles me when people frame his lack of sexual and romantic experience as a problem that needs to be solved through relationships with other people.

I get the idea that he's a sheltered, neurodivergent, and until recently, closeted, gay man going through a second adolescence- and that causes him to have expectations for relationships that are based more on fiction than reality. I really do. And I think the way out of that problem is to truly understand the person he's trying to have a relationship with. Not to learn about relationships in general by dating around in order to practice for the person he actually has feelings for.

I also find it pretty narrow-minded to assume there's some amount of experience (in terms of number of partners) that's necessary for someone to understand relationships. A lot of queer and/or neurospicy folks come to relationships late, and for some that means a lot of different partners, and for others that means falling in love with just one, and both are fine.

A certain number of partners doesn't make you more or less of an adult, and frankly I find it a little infantilizing to assume that Stolas doesn't know who he wants as a 36? year old man just because he hasn't met some threshold for what a "normal" sexual/romantic development is. He might be going through a period of self-discovery where he's overly excited and wrong about things and makes mistakes, but that doesn't mean he's an actual teenager.

Shit, I've had some shorter relationships that I would skip if I could go back in time. Did I learn from them? Sure. Could I have learned those same lessons without them and saved myself some time and frustration? Absolutely.

I don't mind that he made out with some guy at a party. I don't mind that he might hook up with that person. A little experimenting likely won't hurt. It doesn't mean that he needs to go through a whole other relationship in order to discover that he actually loves the person who he knows he loves.

Never mind that Blitz actually does hold the key to Stolas discovering a lot of his shortcomings. And figuring those out is Stolas's whole character arc.

[overtaken-stream]

(┬┬﹏┬┬) found the sakuragi headcanon really cute.. Would you mind making a romantic headcanon for rukawa? I find the idea of tutoring him hilarious since he'd just fall dead asleep, so feel free to expand on that idea if you'd want. Thank you for taking the time to read my request!

Rukawa Kaede x Gn!Reader Headcanons

The face in the gif is all I can see him having while in a relationship and committing romantic acts.

I'm going to start with the most obvious fact: Rukawa isn't a big fan of PDA, but he doesn't hate it either. He won't be the one to initiate affection in public. However, he also isn't the type to slap away your hand when you're trying to hold onto his. If anything, I see Rukawa stuffing both yours and his hand in his pockets.

Rukawa is quiet by nature. He is satisfied with sitting and listening to you talk about your day, if-you-won't-ask-he-won't-share type of guy. But if you're not much of a talker, he is content with the silence and mutual understanding shared in this relationship.

For some reason... I see Rukawa as a mouth person, not in a sexual way, he just really adores any type of lip shape you might possess. When you both get comfortable with intimacy, I don't think Rukawa will miss a chance to kiss you and feel your mouth shape rest on his. Oral fetish just gets his love-starved brain and the closeness the action brings is pleasant for Rukawa.

I see him as a quiet tease, he needs no words to point out how much taller he is, elbow on your head and all. Oh, you don't like cats? He casually lets the one he is holding paw at your arm. Oh, you like cats? His eyes give you a side eye as two cats get closer to him and leave you with your hands outstretched.

Concerning basketball tho.... I have to be honest. Rukawa has no reaction to you showing up to his matches, I can only see him giving you one glance before the play, so you better time it right to show him your support (maybe with a thumbs up and a smile?) even if he won't meet your gaze until after the match. Rukawa might not show it, but he definitely appreciates the subtle gesture.

I can see bike rides as his second favorite dates, so try to keep up with him because he won't wait for you to catch up to him lol. As a compromise, he'll buy you ice cream.

His first favorite dates is cat cafes. Pretty self-explanatory.

He values his privacy so asking for relationship advice from ANYONE, let alone the Shohoku club, is out of the question.

The more time you spend with him the more you understand his thought processes and how it revolves around his naps, so yeah, tutoring will be adjusted to fit his style since Rukawa can't solve one equation without his head lying sideways on his arm and not to mention him taking a ten-minute nap before he moves on to do another subject. Between him and you, you have more chance to fall asleep for hours, since Rukawa always ends up waking up after ten minutes.

He is also a light sleeper and a clingy one too, good luck trying to get him off of you. His stubbornness shows up at the worst times.

[jupiters-galaxy]

I've seen some people criticize how quickly Peter and Steph fell for each other (to the point of being the thing they treasure most), and while I do understand some of the criticism, I think there are a few key things that some people aren't picking up on.

-Treasuring each other IS NOT strictly romantic. While it's true that Peter is in love with Steph, and Steph with Peter, it goes deeper than their repressed love story. They ARE friends. They do genuinely like spending time together, although their connection is relatively new. They care about each other as people first; neither of them seem like they NEED to be in a relationship with the other. They seek each other out even when they're just friends.

-It's also important to remember that the lords in black only want treasured things in the metaphorical sense: they can't give up OBJECTS. It presumably has to be a person or a concept.

-It's important to remember that both of them have been through an unbelieveable ordeal. Peter's closest friends were murdered. Stephanie lost her DAD, and although they weren't close, that can't have been easy to stomach. I cannot stress this enough; Peter and Steph quite literally have no one else left. Peter has no other friends. It logically tracks for him to be attached to Stephanie, as she is someone who experienced the same traumas as him. From Stephanie's angle, she doesn't really like her friends, and since objects are out of the question, Peter is the only person who she feels truly knows her. He's really the only option for her, even if her feelings are confusing.

-I also want to point out that you can really kind of feel them falling for each other, although it is admittedly subtext. Peter is weak to Steph as early as the opening number. He does out of character things to make her happy; a compliment from her makes his day amazing; he faces his biggest fear in hopes of seeing her at Pasqualli's. Stephanie cares for him from the first day they meet, although her care is a lot more ambiguous. She teases him about how he's into her, but at the same time, she's protective of him, feeling horrible that he got beat up and wanting to stop it. Even beyond that, she's inclusive towards him, inviting him to hang out with her simply because she likes his company. Her attraction to him makes sense: we know that Steph has a thing for funny and smart guys, and Peter's geeky snarkiness ABSOLUTELY fits. Their relationship is one that just makes a lot of sense!

-Their relationship is actually portrayed really realistically near the end. They're not intense about their love, nor are they overtly sexual. In NPMD, they don't even kiss! The furthest they go is dancing close together and having conversations, cautiously stepping into a new relationship that they mutually want. Despite the heavy nature of their confessions in As Cool As I Think I Am (Reprise), the payoff is not drastic. The confessions were likely only so heavy because they both thought Peter was about to die. Of course he would go out detailing how he loves her, and of course she would say it back; their last memories together should be good ones. When faced with normalcy, they progress as most teens would.

-At the end of the day, they're two traumatized teenagers who already liked each other before the trauma. It makes sense that they feel like the other is the most important to them; after all, Grace is the only other survivor from their group, and they're thinking about her in a less than favorable way past Richie's death, if not sooner than that.

This is not to say they're perfect, but I think their portrayal was really sweet and a joy to watch. I think the implications are extremely interesting idk!! I love Peter and Steph, I think they're more nuanced than they're getting credit for. I love to see cringefail nerds getting badass and amazing girlfriends, let me have this!!!!!

Anyways yeah that's my hot take. One of many. NPMD is consuming me someone help