#before we tragically accidentally deleted it... L

[ozlices]

the cycle of 'restart totk bc it's the only copium we have' has begun. we have not even finished our first playthrough yet. wheeeeeee

[pictostory]

Thomas Dubois, Sandman

The following was recovered from the Deleted folder of an AIM executive's inbox after a recent breach.

Come to beautiful KLEIN VALLEY, home to a brand-new prosperous community! Whether you're passing through, or making it your home, we wlecome one and all! (note: you're doing a pass for spelling right??)

- GREAT FOR ENVIRONMENT

You may have heard rumours of an accidental incident involving Pym tech in the region. Not so! There was, howeever, a very INTENTIONAL incident involving Pym tech! We've reduced the carbon footprint of this community to [insert exact value here]! It makes for a wondrous and magical experience for adults and kids alike! But not only that, all the infrastructure is still in place and functional! We are accepting applicants for residence from VERY SMALL PEOPLE. Pleae e-mail us if interested! (note: screen out people who like snooping into corps)

- EXPERIENCE THE LAKE LIKE NEVER BEFORE

Following the tragic and mysterious loss of the nearby dam, we are proud to offer the world's first community that is 100% WATERFRONT PROPERTY! Imagine stepping onto your balcony and imediately being in the lake! Imagine that in your kitchen, your bathroom, (DON'T bring this one up) your bedroom! You've always wanted a lakehouse—now's your chance to afford one! (note: based on this, I feel like we should change the previous text to read 'applicants for residence from VERY SMALL MERMAIDS.' seriously though, idea: pay-to-own scuba gear??)

- PEST-FREE

Everyone's biggest downside to the lakeside experience is the wildlife. (note: change to 'bugs'? most people like SOME wildlife) Don't worry! This lake has been calibrated in just such a way that no wildlife could possibly survive! (note: again, I really feel like you need to be more specific) But don't think that'll make for an empty, soulless living experience. We've populated the lake with our special patented HOLO-FISH to breathe some holo-life into the lake! Sit (float?) on your balcony as you take in these wondrous creatures, or get the experience in your own living room as they clip through the buildings!

We here at KLEIN VALLEY are dedicated to providing a lovely living experience for all ages. A perfect retirement community, but also close enough to the nearby dam (note: dude did you already forget) for a quick commute! Bring the whole family and let us welcome you to KLEIN VALLEY!

(final thoughts: very creative. I respect your initiative in trying to turn a big L for us into a W. but I just don't see this taking off. I think hush-hush is definitely the way to go on this. let's just dump a bunch of dirt into the lake and literally cover it up. maybe see if we can find where the dam washed away to. it should be on the lakebed somewhere right? I know it's gonna be annoying to find but we should make sure it's there so we can hide it right. anyway, good thoughts, but let's get back to more important projects.)

[cecesf06]

Inconsolable (Part 1)

Anon: hi, can I get 68 and 74 with Liam and can it be angsty as anything, thank you!

A/N: No, thank you for requesting! This one is very long, I got kind of carried away., So I split it into two parts. P.S. angst is a specialty of mine.. If you don’t like it or wanted something else feel free to tell me!

(Oops, I deleted this prompt list, and have had all of the requests just sitting there, so I’m so sorry everyone, but I already this one done, so yolo.)

(NOT MY GIF!)

68. “I don’t need help! I just want the pain to stop!”

74. “I can’t take the loneliness anymore.”

Warnings: mentions and brief descriptions of blood and death, major character death, minuscule blink and you’ll miss it depression.

Word count: hella long- 20k both parts oml.

____________________________________________________

She wasn’t like them.

Y/N has seen them cope with the loss of a significant other; Scott, Isaac, Lydia- all in the same day, they lost the person who mattered most to them. They felt that primal terrible grief that swallowed them whole, and the shredded agony in their hearts where something had been savagely ripped out, leaving a void that wouldn’t- couldn’t- be filled. They survived the crushing despair, the same despair you were living through now, and the one you will always feel, because according to them, as time passes it’ll be easier to cope with.

But she wasn’t like them.

She can’t live without him.

It became painfully obvious only two months after he di- left- that moving on wasn’t an option, at least not for Y/N. The rest of the pack had grieved, and mourned, but they ultimately accepted it, although they were used to it- they were used to people they love leaving, but not her, she wasn’t at all, she wasn’t part of the pack until he was bitten, and everything about it was too surreal, but the denial was over but she can’t do it, she can’t-

The funny thing about being in Y/N’s family was that although sheltered to its cruelty, she wasn’t oblivious to the supernatural world. The Y/L/N family- convent- was well-known, prestigious, and a force to be reckoned with. Feared and respected, her family had raised generations upon generations of mages, and witches, men and women alike, Y/N being one of them.

Before her freshman year of high school, Y/N was home schooled, and trained until she gained full control over her powers. All children did this in her family, it usually took about five or so years, and therefore only elementary schooling, but her power was stronger than the rest, and control was a concept to her as compatible as gasoline to a flame. But she was not only strong, she was determined and gifted, and sooner, or in her case later, she began her freshman year, and first year of public schooling, at Beacon Hills High.

It was there she met her soon to be pack, and after an incident involving duct tape and orange peels, along with a few accidental spells, she met him.

He was the water to her flames, the baby blue eyed werewolf bitten by a true alpha. Control for him was as difficult for him as it was for her- power was something they shared along with a similar liking to dark chocolate, and his strength was his biggest foe. A foe that Y/N easily defeated.

Of course there were issues, threats from both enemies and eventually her family, but after much consideration, she was able to discharge from the convent, where she was nothing more than a burden and loose thread to them with her ever increasing strength, to a place to call her own among the True alpha’s mismatch pack, and with him- until she lost him.

Burying the memories, Y/N hitched her bag higher to settle on her shoulders, picking up her pace. Leaves crunched under her shoes, and trees shuddered in the wind, the full moon occasionally peeking through the clouds. Y/N shivered in the wind, regretting not bringing a coat, or even his sweatshirt- the one she never left home without.

She couldn’t have brought it tonight, though, not if she wanted her spell at the McCall’s, where she has been living, to work.

Scott was going to notice she was missing, though.

Scott has always been there for her in more ways than one- the whole pack has. Going behind their backs like this dropped a heavy weight in her stomach, and a lump in her throat.

But the feeling of his still body in her arms,and the image of his lifeless blue eyes she adored so much trumped the guilt, steeling her resolve.

Y/N could feel the buzzing, the sick yet powerful hum of the Nemeton. Y/N had a love/hate relationship with the tree stump, but if all went according to plan tonight, she’d be indebted to it forever.

The stump was her alter, her table, her desk, and Y/N unpacked her bag on it, ignoring the shift from the tree. Of course it objected, it recognized the herbs, the ones only used for one spell. They weren’t easy to procure, but they were easier to get than the rest of the ritual required.

The knife was a kitchen knife from the McCall’s house, and the runes were from ancient Latin Americans for renewal and rebirth during the vast wasteland after Noah’s arc, and the flood that destroyed the earth. Carving them into the thick decaying wood of the Nemeton was an arduous task, but well worth the reprimanding nosebleed she received in return.

The herbs, the runes carved in the stump, his blood, and then her blood. The Latin spell, long and complicated, and rehearsed for days before tonight, and even more effective on a full moon, only to be cast no longer than two months after passing. It was tonight or never; he’s been gone for two months today.

“Y/N!!”

She paused mid sentence, fear clutching her abdomen. They knew. They were going to stop her, and if they did, there’d be no going back, because after tonight, she’d never have another chance, and she’d have to face it.

The idea occurred days after he left. Several days brought the spell and ritual in fine print off a library computer. A few weeks after, she began gathering the supplies, and by three weeks, Y/N had everything she needed. And by one month, she’d make the trip, set up the supplies, carve the runes, and sit in silence, alone, pondering exactly what would happen if she went through with it. Him back and whole, in her arms again where he belongs, and not gone.

Not gone because of her. Because they got in her head, and eliminated the one thing- person- who could keep her in check. Of course that backfired when she burned them to the ground and their children and their grandchildren.

But he was gone by her hand, Y/N’s hand.

She remembers that day. It haunts her every night. Waking up that morning, her sixteenth birthday, nonetheless tragic, getting sick, and passing out in the bathroom at the McCall’s. The next thing she’s conscious of is the dark, and cold warehouse, empty albeit one small thing- his lifeless body.

They made him suffer, all while she was out and helpless while they manipulated her like a puppet, and he meant the world to her. He is the world to her- Y/N can’t be in it without him, she can’t cope like they do, and they don’t understand. They don’t understand the confusion that swept her when she was back to herself. They don’t understand the panic she felt when she saw him crumpled on the cement. They don’t understand the sorrow and pain, and fear, and horror, and absolute agony when she realized he was gone. They don’t understand how long she stayed there, crying on her knees with him in her arms, screaming and sobbing to the heavens to bring him back. To wake up.

And she was awake. And she’s going to bring him back, even if it’s the last thing she does.

Dead or alive, she’ll be with him again tonight.

“Y/N!”

Y/N ignored their pleas, chanting the words, feeling blood trickle down her face from her nose, and mouth, like it did when a witch pushed their limits.

This spell was one to be cast by a whole convent. The power needed was ungodly, and she had to believe that the rumors about her unnatural power were true, and that she was strong enough to do it.

Y/N couldn’t go another day without him, and if she didn’t succeed tonight, he was officially gone.

“Y/N!!!”

The voices of the pack were closer but she didn’t care. Her ears were ringing, her head fuzzy, and the buzzing power she was drawing from the Nemeton was coursing through her veins. The last words were pronounced. There was no going back.

It must’ve been a sight to see, Y/N on her knees by the Nemeton, the strongest source of power in Beacon Hills, blood covering the bottom half of her face, her eyes flashing from her usual stunning Y/e/c to a deep dark maleficent purple, darker since he left.

It certainly scared Scott, Lydia, Malia, Kira and Stiles when they finally found her.

Scott was the first to react. “Y/N, stop!” The panic is his voice caught her attention, freezing her in the act as she prepared to let the blood drop from her sliced palm, the last step before the spell was complete.

“It’s too late.” Her voice was trance like, almost monotone, like it’d been since he left. “It’s already been done.”

The wind had picked up considerably, leaves swirling and surrounding her like a tornado. Y/N’s gaze lifted to the moon again, the power gathering, and grinding her to her very core, draining as much as it could, from her, the Nemeton, the full moon.

There wasn’t a more powerful force. If this didn’t work, nothing would.

“Y/N,” Lydia was trembling, and Stiles put a comforting hand on her shoulder, brows creased. Lydia’s voice was weak and quivering, horrified. “What have you done?”

Y/N’s eyes were unblinking at the banshee, and she knew Lydia could feel the disruption in the balance between the living and the dead. “What I had to.”

Scott bit his lip to hold back tears, and not for the first time, sharing her thoughts and emotions. “Y/N, we could’ve helped you, we know how you feel, we lost him too-”

“I don’t need help!” Her voice was a roar, deeper than usual, the wind swirling quicker, her fist clenched, stopping the blood that’s ready to be spilled, that will bring him back. Her voice dropped to a moan. “I just want the pain to stop..”

“It will be alright.” Scott replied somberly, struck with grief anew for both the boy they just lost, and his first love long ago. “It may not feel like it now, but it will get easier- and we’re here for you, we understand how you feel-”

Her eyes were alighted with fury. “No! None of you understand how I feel!”

“We do, Y/N,” It’s Mason’s voice now, the human completely over looked in her wrath. The boy shamelessly had tears running down his face. “We loved him, too.”

Y/N was still at his words, the rage and currents slowing a bit, her fist lowering from where it has been poised above the herbs. The pack was beginning to feel as though they were getting through.

They weren’t. His words only poured alcohol into her gasoline fueled fire, no water to quench the flames.

“NO! Not like I did.” Her voice dropped a few octaves, which was progress in Stiles’s book. “I killed him. I killed the only person I truly loved.”

Scott had taken a step toward her, only to recede when a current lashed out a warning. “That wasn’t you. That was them.”

Y/N shook her head, disbelieving. “No, no, I killed him.”

Stiles had a pained expression, reaching a hand toward the younger, a pang throbbing in his chest where it never fully healed after Allison. “ No, they were controlling you, Y/N!”

She shook her head, blood beginning to pour from her ears as the wind picked up profusely. She didn’t believe them. She’d never believe them.

“I can’t take the loneliness anymore…”

Alarmed, Malia began to take a step toward her, but Scott held her back. “Don’t.”

The six were forced to watch helpless as she let the blood fall, his name on her lips, helpless as the power was extracted from the three sources, helpless to watch Y/N scream, Lydia screaming with her. Once the roaring of wind, and ear piercing screams died out, everything became painfully still.

Lydia was shaking as she recovered in Stiles’s arms, a look of horror on her face. Y/N was unmoving, flat on the stump, and silent.

Malia and Scott reached Y/N first, panicky as they inspected her, almost collapsing with relief as they found her breathing. Mason and Kira were by their side next, the kitsune sinking next to her boyfriend, a hand over her mouth in shock. Corey appeared out of nowhere, where he was probably skulking and watching as usual.

Stiles helped a shaky Lydia approach, the banshee trembling and mumbling his name.

“Is Y/N okay?” Stiles’s voice broke, fearful they lost yet another part of their family, the girl who is like a sister to him.

“Yeah, she’s breathing, just unconscious. We should take her Deaton’s though.” Scott supplied, lifting Y/N into his arms with ease while Malia frowned at her limp figure with concern, using her sleeve to wipe some of the blood that covered her face. Stiles nodded, relieved.

Scott furrowed his brows at Lydia, who was staring off in a daze, almost comatose, now mumbling a sporadic mix of Y/N’s and his name. “ We should bring her to him, too.”

Stiles nodded, a flicker of fear at the thought that Lydia could be comatose again, as Malia takes her other side, and they follow Scott to the clinic. Mason trails behind, but not after snapping pictures of the runes and blood and herbs still strewn across the Nemeton.

Deaton better have answers.

Well this was nerve wracking to post let me know if you want part 2!