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phonkscribes · 1 year

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I wanted to request a more platonic Dbd imagine for either the Oni or the Knight, which ever you prefer, but a younger killer reader, someone like Spirit who was wronged in life. And dying due the reader’s survivor basically being the reason they died in the first place. So they hunt the survivor the most when ever they see them. Just a reader that has a lot of hatred for one person amongst the survivors

Youth filled with scorn.

What a particular case. Another instance in which the Entity felt pity upon a crushed, dying soul. That is not without its price. The weapon was placed in your hands, but the real murderer was on the other side. She whispered into your ear, told you that you could get your revenge as many times as you'd want. You couldn't believe it, but a darker part of you would. As you set out into the trials, you would seek them out, pushing the others out of your way to make sure that the one who put you here was taken care of.

It didn't matter if they escaped in their stead, it didn't matter if the Entity punished you. With their body ascending into the Fog, your thirst was clenched. Nothing else mattered...

Right?

THE ONI // KAZAN YAMAOKA

Another child? He thought, disappointment flooding his mind as he took you in.

You were beaten, bruises blotching across certain parts of your body like an intricate pattern, scars adorning your skin like stars. It was bad enough that one of his descendants had been sent here in a similar state, but what was your story? Why were you here, what had brought you to such ruin that a demonic god sought to rescue you from your fate? The first time he saw you, there had been tears in your eyes, but you didn't cry. He could feel the anger ebbing off you like the blood he collected. Kazan was curious, he had to know more now. The only problem was that you didn't talk much, and you preferred to strike out on your own.

He supposed it was a young person thing, but he wouldn't be giving up on you. The Oni would take his time to figure you out, to investigate by his own means. He watched you return from a trial once, the bubbling of the Entity echoing into the thicket as She admonished you for failing to feed her properly. You growled, bared your teeth as you pointed at the air accusingly.

"I don't care about anyone else, but them. You said I could- I could kill them as many times as I'd like! You said that I could avenge myself as many times as I want and I am", you bristled, held your ground like a cornered animal.

Naturally, the Entity didn't like you taking that tone with Her. Naturally, you were punished.

Kazan scowled, and looked away as the claws hooked themselves deep into your side: the toll of losing a trial. You'd heal, because She fixed Her toys at least when She was done playing with them. After you'd been punished, he appeared-- rather, he revealed himself. Your body laid curled on the ground once the Entity was gone. You breathed heavily, trying not to grunt as he looked over you. You flinched when he offered a hand, which in turn, caused him to pause. A moment passed, where you considered slapping the Oni's hand, but that strength you had in the beginning had began to fade.

You could use someone right now, more than ever to help steady yourself. Your hand is smaller in his, but it's firm, strong as it hauls you to your feet. You look up at your fellow killer, lip tight as it trembles. Perhaps no words needed to be said or mentioned, no thanks having to be traded for him to know and for you to know. He understands you, at least a little better than he had before. Kazan brings you into a hug, gently pushing your head into his shoulder. It's entirely suffocating.

You feel as if there's a block in your throat, preventing you from being able to breathe as the wind catches in a painful lump. Your arms are slow and weak to wrap around his torso, slowly snaking as you cling to him. The blood on your body drips upwards, the droplets that fall off your preserved corpse fades before it even stains or touches him. The two of you are cold, which is the only other unpleasant thing about the exchange. It makes you miss your dad.

And your mom.

And your life, and your school, and the dreams you had for yourself.

Your future had been robbed, the years you could've lived happily having been stolen. Your anger boils again, rising in your chest as you snarled, a roar leaving you as you allowed yourself to cry freely. Kazan pets your hair, a strange twinge ripping through him. It was the same as when he found out about what happened to his descendant. After that, you'd began to seek him out as opposed to the other killers. You told him about the survivor that got you killed, and about how he you stop at nothing until they were dead and gone. As much as he could understand, he'd tell you about how it was important to get rid of the other survivors too.

Kazan became your mentor, served as a guiding force to try and keep you within the Entity's good graces, less you wished to end up in a worse state. While you started to perform better while under his wing, your hatred for your murderer never ceased or faded. The same could not be said about your own injuries. The damage that had been done had started to heal, something that the Oni pointed out while having you do a bit of training.

And quite proudly too.

#phonk scribes #your letter has been received #dbd imagines #dead by daylight imagines #dbd & reader #the oni dbd #kazan yamaoka #the oni #the oni & reader #kazan yamaoka & reader #& reader #comfort #[ hes grandpa ]#[ i thought about incorporating the knight as well into this request but i think kazan would appeal more here ]#[ i think hed also try and set you up with rin to be friends ]#[ youre both two dead teens! thats a lot in common eh? ]#[ thatd be cute ]#[ enjoy :) ]

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animetingzz · 2 years

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I need you

Bela Dimitrescu x Shifter! Reader

Warning! Angst and gore, mentions of torture.

“Honey i just don’t get why you want to try and kill one of the four lords? THEY’RE LORDS! Are you sure you’re ready for the consequences when you fail?” The woman glares at the man, her spineless coward of a husband who was once brave and confident. There was a time where he’d follow her anywhere, he’d do anything for her and vice versa. “You don’t understand Stefan! This is my sister! They laid their filthy hands on her and stole the life from her! What did she do but serve them unconditionally?! What warrants such a fate?!” “THEY’LL KILL YOU! Make a public example of you! What then?! What shall I do then?!” “Stop making this about you! This is my sister we’re talking about and if I don’t avenge her who will? You certainly won’t and I can’t stand by while they drag more innocent souls to their deaths!” The door shuts with a resounding slam as Stefan breaks down at the prospect of losing his beloved wife. “Forgive us Mother Miranda . . .”

The plan was simple, get close to the Lady and earn her trust. There were rumors of a dagger powerful enough to strip the life of the wretched matriarch she just couldn’t pin down where exactly it resided. Gaining the trust of the nine foot tall Beauty proved to be more difficult than naught, the head of the castle always away for business or busy with one of her daughters, showing her the ins and outs of their business as she’d soon have a partnership role. That’s what led Alina to her backup plan. If she couldn’t get close to the matriarch than she’ll have to take something from her that will absolutely destroy her; Her daughters.

Getting close to Cassandra was nothing short of impossible. The deranged middle Dimitrescu only had blood and carnage on her mind, death was sure to follow anyone who dared to get close. Daniela also proved to be difficult seeing as the girl was impetuous. Often acting without a single thought the youngest Dimitrescu could switch up her moods so swiftly it was impossible to read her. Stories of her erratic outbursts whispered through the halls, a maid getting her face slashed for making a simple mistake. She too seemed to operate on pure destruction. That left Bela; eldest Dimitrescu and heir to whatever winery they operated. Perhaps the most poised and collected of the three, she too had her moments of terror but she spent most of her time in her study reading any and everything. Her thirst for knowledge was the one thing Alina could work with.

“Come onnnnn, you’ve read that book like a million timesss. . .” (Y/n) whines, crawling into the blonde’s lap and trying to muzzle her way under her book and into her neck, much like a cat in search of affection. Bela, still absorbed in her book hums softly, placing a kiss atop her head without breaking her concentration. “I want to spend time with you.” (Y/n) nuzzles into her neck, breathing in her scent with a sigh. She smelled of amber and bark with a slight iron undertone. Bela finishes the chapter and sets her book down, turning her attention to the girl in her lap. “Alright I’m all yours now.” (Y/n) grins brightly and all but drags Bela out the study. “We’re going to have so much fun!” On their way down the hall they run into Alina, Bela’s personal maid, carrying a load of laundry. “Oh Alina, I’ve been meaning to tell you, the nights are getting far too cold so you’ll need to make sure there’s enough firewood in Lady Bela’s room each night. I needn’t remind you the consequences should you fail as I’m quite fond of you.” “Yes lady (y/n). I shall get to it right away.”

(Y/n) proved to be another wrench in Alina’s plan. After she had settled to get close to Bela she realized she’d also have to gain the trust of the resident hunter/ executioner. (Y/n)’s whole purpose was to get her hands dirty and the girl showed absolutely no remorse over it. Was everyone in this castle fucking mad? Legend had it (Y/n) wasn’t even fully human, where’s the surprise in that? (Y/n) was always at Bela’s side, only leaving to hunt, gather supplies from around the village, and carry out executions. Alina couldn’t quite pin what exactly (y/n) was and it scared her. She was swift like the daughters but never burst into swarms of murderous flies. She ate the same as the three but didn’t actively drink blood. Was she perhaps another one of Miranda’s freaks? She’d have to find out some other time because now fate seemed to be on her side. Lady Dimitrescu was leaving for business and (y/n) was going out for a hunt. Daniela and Cassandra would be in the dungeons all day torturing those poor souls (y/n) dragged in the previous week. “They’ve been scouting the castle grounds.” She had said. Anyone with ill intentions was tortured and eventually put to death. That left Bela who had opted out of torture for the day and insisted she read in her study. Alina knew the girl hadn’t been sleeping too well and thus her senses dulled. The knife she’d heard about tucked away into the apron of her uniform Alina did her normal duties, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. She wasn’t a complete idiot either she had the perfect plan. Open the window to weaken the flies that made up Bela’s structure and stab her with the knife to render her healing ability from kicking in. She’d then lock her in the study and let nature take its course. She’d then rush the dagger back to its rightful place and stage an attack on the castle, wounding herself would likely keep her out of suspicion.

Something’s not right. (Y/n)’s gut was screaming at her to abandon her hunt and return to the castle. Her wings twitched nervously and she hissed lowly. The herd of deer she had been stalking for half the day just ahead. She readied herself to pounce, in her panthera form she’d make quick work of the poor deer she’d get her claws on however the nagging feeling that something just wasn’t right prevented her from following through. Then she heard it, the shudders of weakened breathing and the slowing of a heart beating. Bela was in trouble. With the sound akin to that of thunder (y/n) took to the sky, trying with all her might to get to the castle in time. She didn’t even shift back to her human form as she raced the halls, listening for those cursed sounds. When she located the door she all but tore a hole through it, immediately sweeping Bela off the floor and rushing her to another room. Her thoughts running wild. How did this happen? If only I’d been here. I’ll kill whoever’s responsible. Cassandra and Daniela burst through the door shortly after. “What the hell did you do to my sister?!” Cass sneered, already quick to blame with her sickle pointed at the Hunter. “Cass calm down! If she’d done it she wouldn’t have rushed her here.” Daniela reasoned, her eyes brimming with tears. “I don’t know who did this but someone’s head is going to roll for it.” (Y/n) said with absolute venom lacing her words.

The days to follow were filled with so much tension. All the maids were lined up and cross examined, most had strong alibi’s while others seemed a little shaky. Nonetheless the incident was ruled an accident by Lady Dimitrescu per (y/n)’s pleas. Bela fell into a coma whilst her body worked to recover at an alarmingly slow pace. Her room on complete lockdown, no maids, not even her sisters or (y/n) could see her. It hurt to not be able to see the girl she loved but (y/n) knew it was for the best. Trust was very low these days and whoever tried to kill her could still be in this castle. (Y/n) remembers the conversation she had with Lady Dimitrescu the week after the incident. “Whoever tried to kill Bela knew what they were doing. They waited until you and I were away for business and Cass and Daniela would be busy in the lowest parts of the castle. They also left the window open and locked her in her study. I have a list of maids I want to observe but I must ask of you a favor my Lady.” Lady Dimitrescu takes a puff of her cigarette with a hum, she was very livid over the whole situation but her outward demeanor remained calm, frighteningly calm. “I’m listening child.” (Y/n) looks up and makes eye contact for the first time that night, her eyes red from crying and flooding with pure retribution. “I want you to announce that the incident was an accident. I can observe everyone better if they know we don’t suspect any foul play. I would also like to request that Bela is put on strict lockdown, with you being the only one to be in contact with her. I’ll assign all her maids elsewhere.” Lady Dimitrescu mulls the thought over for what feels like a century. She wanted whoever tried to kill her daughter to pay for their crimes, that much she had in common with (y/n) but to cut her daughters off from their sister? In these trying times where Bela was literally fighting for her life? “My lady, I only ask because she may try again if she had access to Bela.” (Y/n) assures as if reading her mind. “Granted, you have 14 days to figure out who tried to kill my daughter. Should you fail, well, it’s going to be a dark night in the history of castle Dimitrescu.” (Y/n) nodded, the indirect threat lingering over her head.

Ten days and nothing of significance. (Y/n) groans in frustration. She’d observed every maid and none stood out, none seemed the least bit suspicious and it bugged her to no end. Deciding that some time outside the castle would help clear her head she decided to head for the village for supplies. She hadn’t had time to hunt lately so she figured buying from local butchers should be enough to feed the Dimitrescu’s until she could get out to hunting again. On her way to the local butchers she passed the pub, the siren call of whiskey oh so enticing. One drink. She thought, one drink would be enough for her after all she wanted to remain level headed. “I still can’t believe she’d throw away years of marriage. . . ” a man babbled, slumped on the table he sat at with tears and snot running down his face. The pink shade to his face indicated this man was well passed drunk. (Y/n) paid him no mind as she trekked further into the pub. “I told her not to go . . . Told her death would surely follow. You can’t kill a Lord.” (Y/n)’s ears perked up at this, forgoing her drink she closed in on the man, blood boiling. “What’s this about killing a Lord?” The man gasps in surprise, stumbling back in his seat and hitting the floor. Fucking drunks. “My Lady. . . What brings you to here?” (Y/n) loomed over the man, her foot coming up to rest on his throat, forcing his back into the ground. “I have very little patience for formalities. Cut the shit and tell me what you know about the attack on Castle Dimitrescu.” The man spilled everything, his wife’s sister, her plan of revenge, the legends of a dagger that was strong enough to kill a Lord. His fear fueling him to empty his soul. (Y/n)’s eyes flashed an angry gold, so one of the maids made the attempt on Bela’s life. She dragged the man with her to castle Dimitrescu and before the Lord herself.

Alina could barely lift her head as the sounds of manic giggling drew closer and closer. She could hear whimpering on her left and the rattling of chains at his futile attempt to escape. “Well well well what do we have here?” An airy voice taunted and out of the swarm Daniela materialized, a crazed smile graced her features, lips coated in blood and gore. “Ah yes. . . A spineless man thing who can’t stop spewing nonsense. Cute if you weren’t so hopelessly weak. Oh and you?” Daniela directs her attention to Alina, a mischievous glint in her two toned eyes. “The bitch my sister trusted, what a terrible judge of character that one. Do you want to know what we’re going to do to you?” The sound of yet another swarm approaches, Cassandra appearing with an array of new tools. “Enough talking Dani, let’s show these scum what happens when you bare your teeth at castle Dimitrescu.” The torture lasted for days as their screams echoed the halls. Cassandra and Daniela doing the most without granting them the sweet release of death. A week passed, than another before it was time to publicly execute them. (Y/n) mulled over a few ways to make an example of the couple. She wished Bela was awake so she could give her input but the blonde was stuck in her coma. Lady Dimitrescu finally allowed her daughters and (y/n) to visit her and (y/n) spent most of her time laying next to Bela in her Panthera form, trying with all her might to produce enough heat to accelerate her healing. After finding out about the dagger being stolen Lady Dimitrescu begged mother Miranda for an antidote. The woman agreed and had an antidote prepared the very same day. She warned them however that the affects might take awhile, “could be days could be months”. All they could do was wait. You could always just post them outside the castle walls and let the crows have at them they’ll succumb to their injuries and it’ll send a message that there’s a fate far worse than death. (Y/n) remembers Bela telling her that on one of her first executions, helping the girl send a clear message to the village. No one messes with House Dimitrescu.

There was peace once again in the castle, albeit a strained peace. Tensions were still high as Bela had yet to rise from her coma. Cassandra had started getting more violent, lashing out at anyone and anything with her hair trigger temper. Daniela grew more quiet, opting to read more these days rather than partake in any activities that would have her leave the castle. Lady Dimitrescu still managed her business and frequent meetings with the Lords but she spent smoked more and ate less. (Y/n) never left Bela’s room, after making an example of that wretched couple she curled up beside Bela and just laid there. She didn’t eat and she rarely slept. She spent her days talking to the comatose blonde in hopes that something would stir her from her deep slumber. “You wouldn’t believe it, it was the biggest deer I’d ever downed, you would’ve loved it.” Tears flowed like a constant stream, ceasing to end down (y/n)’s face. “Please wake up Bela, I need you, I . . . I love you.”

~End

Requested by @wolfie22900

AN: I’m so sorry to make this so sad but there may or may not be a second part to this, depending on how I’m feeling…

#bela dimitrescu #cassandra dimitrescu #daniela dimitrescu #re8 dimitrescu #re8 village #castle dimitrescu #alcina dimitrescu #resident evil village #bela dimitrescu x reader #re8 angst #sorry yall

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echoes-of-kemet · 21 days

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Oh knower of extremely niche topics (mean that in a positive way), is there any historic mention of vampirism in ancient egypt??

Not to my knowledge, no. I know that a handful of vampire media claims that there were vampires in Ancient Egypt- some even being nobility or rulers- but there are no historical texts which support this being a belief that was held as far as I know. I've also seen it proposed by a small few that Osiris was a vampire, which I have to respectfully reject outright.

HOWEVER, vampires and vampirism are European concepts, but have similarities with pieces of a variety of other cultures. Generally speaking, the oldest mentions of creatures that broadly match the traditional description of a vampire come from the ancient Near East. While Egypt isn't one of these sources, it neighbored them and its culture mingled with theirs'. As I said, there is nothing in Egyptian mythology or ancient history which lines up with tales of vampires enough to equate them, but there are a handful of deities and concepts which have similarities.

Sekhmet comes to mind first and foremost, with her power over disease and infamous gluttonous bloodthirst. I have seen a handful of other people posit Sekhmet as the "original" vampire, but I disagree for a few major reasons. First of all, she has no connection with death nor the afterlife beyond being a slayer and protectress; she is tied to life and strength of the living Pharaoh, rather than the afterlife. Secondly, while she does cause and spread disease, she is also responsible for healing these and this is just as vital to her divine "role" so to speak; traditionally speaking, vampires strictly spread pestilence and have no connection (nor reason to have one) with curing or healing. Third, she is unique and possesses no contagious quality like some tales of vampires; her thirst for blood was entirely her own, not transmitted by some other source nor imparted to any others.

Other deities noted for drinking or feasting on blood include Shezmu, who (in some tellings) put Ra/Osiris' enemies into his press to make wine from their blood, and also played a major role in the Cannibal Hymn (thought this was mostly symbolic rather than actual cannibalism); Ammit, who not only feasted on the hearts of the unworthy but delighted in chowing down on the rest of their bodies; Babi, who much like Ammit would devour those deemed sinful and would occasionally fill her role, though entrails were noted as his preferred snack; and Khonsu, who is also noted in the Cannibal Hymn and has the epithet "lives on hearts." I'm certain there are others worth mentioning that I've managed to overlook, but these are who came to my mind.

Lastly, though they are not considered gods by any means and have a very loose definition, the wandering-demons as a whole are worth mentioning here. Some are said to eat or otherwise prey on humans, even attempt to steal their souls whilst sleeping- but I bring them up more for their direct ties to things like pestilence, famine, and drought. Both Sekhmet and Bast supposedly commanded legions of these wandering-demons, though I personally think this is another case of Bast being conflated with her sister; Bast has no real connection to disease or healing them specifically, and the sickness which Sekhmet unleashed was spread by her wandering-demons. (I specify wandering-demons as they're distinct from guardian-demons like Ammit or Babi, but that's a whole different, extremely complicated and long winded matter lol)

#mmm I forget what my tag for answering asks is here #uhhhhhh #asks placeholder #that'll work

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sluttywonwoo · 3 years

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pretend || j.ww x reader

Summary: reading thirst tweets with your co-star/boyfriend’s best friend makes things a little tense

Warnings: swearing, smut mentions (18+)

Word Count: 1.8k

a/n: originally posted on my tom holland fic account ( @wazzupmrstark )

Masterlist

The sound of Mingyu cracking his knuckles next to you sent a shiver down your spine, making you cringe instinctively. You turned to glare at him and leaned away from the noise.

“I hate when you do that!” you groaned.

He smirked. “I know, that’s why I like doing it.”

You looked over at Wonwoo, who was sitting across the room with the crew, and pointed to Gyu.

“Can you tell your best friend to stop being annoying?”

“Can you tell your girlfriend to stop being dramatic?” Mingyu retaliated.

“I’m not picking sides!” Wonwoo shouted back and held up his hands in surrender.

You let your jaw drop. “I’ll remember that, Jeon.”

“Baby, I-” Wonwoo started to defend himself, but fell silent when the producer got up from her chair and approached you and Mingyu who were sitting behind the camera.

“Which one of you wants to take this?” she asked, holding up a large insulated jug full of paper strips.

“I’ll take it,” Mingyu offered and set the cup in his lap.

“What a gentleman,” you said, fighting the urge to roll your eyes.

“You’re lucky you’re pretty,” he muttered, “because you’re so fucking annoying.”

“Thank you.”

“It wasn’t a compliment.”

The producer gave you both a sideways look. “Are you guys alright? Should we take a minute before starting?”

“No, we’re fine,” you assured her.

“We don’t actually hate each other,” Mingyu added, “this is just how... we are.”

She didn’t look any less concerned, but nodded anyway. “Okay, well remember what your director said about playing up your chemistry to promote the show. And when we call action just give a quick slate and start reading the tweets.”

She walked back over to her spot next to the cameraman and took a seat before looking over a checklist that had been handed to her and writing some notes on it.

“Nervous?” Mingyu whispered to you as you both waited for your cue.

“A little,” you admitted. “You?”

“I’m a bit on edge,” he concurred. “Mostly because your boyfriend is about to watch me read filthy comments about you on-camera.”

You glanced over at Wonwoo who gave you an encouraging smile and a thumbs-up. “He’ll be fine. How bad can they be?”

From a distance, the producer you had just spoken to called for everyone to be quiet on set and signaled the cameras to start rolling. You perked up and straightened your dress, waiting for Mingyu to take the lead.

“Hi guys, I’m Kim Mingyu.”

“And I’m y/n y/l/n.”

“You might recognize us from our new Netflix series, Breaking Curfew, where we play opposite each other in what you might call a... complicated romantic relationship.”

“We’re enemies with benefits,” you summarized. “And today we’re here with Buzzfeed to read thirst tweets about each other.”

“Ladies first,” Mingyu said and held the cup out to you.

You closed your eyes and sifted through the strips of paper with one hand, selecting one at random.

“Okay, this one’s about you. ‘Kim Mingyu has the prettiest eyes’.” You grinned as you watched your co-star’s cheeks turn pink. “He’s totally blushing right now! We haven’t even gotten to the good stuff!”

“Thank you very much to whoever tweeted that,” Mingyu said and cleared his throat.

“I agree with this person,” you continued, “you do have really pretty eyes.”

“Aw, thank you, y/n.”

“You’re welcome.”

“My turn.” Mingyu closed his eyes and rummaged around the cup before picking one. “‘Someone tell y/n y/l/n that I’m single and I get a discount at Olive Garden if she ever wants to let me take her out on a date’.”

You chuckled. “I do like Olive Garden.”

“She’ll get back to you on that one, mate,” Mingyu said quickly and let the crumpled piece of paper fall to the floor.

You took that as a sign to move on so you reached into the jug and pulled out another tweet.

“Oh, this one’s about me again. ‘Y/n y/l/n scissor me challenge’.” You clapped a hand over your mouth in shock and thrust the slip of paper towards Mingyu.

“You know what, props for being so bold. What do you think, y/n? Are you going to take them up on the offer?”

“I’ll think about it,” you managed to choke out, sending Mingyu into a laughing fit. You fanned yourself with your hand as you tried to recover and motioned for your co-star to read another one. “Your turn.”

“‘Kim Mingyu and y/n y/l/n are my dream celebrity threesome,’” he read. “What a compliment, don’t you think?”

“Oh, for sure,” you agreed and winked as you held your hand to your ear in a call me motion.

“These are just getting more and more vulgar, aren’t they?” Mingyu asked.

“I don’t know that anything can beat the scissoring one,” you pointed out as you fished another tweet from the bucket. “Another one about Mingyu, okay. ‘I wanna suck Kim Mingyu’s soul through his dick then spit it back in his face’.” You blinked at the piece of paper in front of you in shock, scanning back over it to make sure you had read it right the first time. “Jesus... christ.”

Mingyu smirked and nudged your shoulder with his.

You ignored him and pointed a finger at the camera in disgust. “I cannot believe you made me read this with my own two eyes. I could have lived my entire life without seeing those words in a sentence together!”

“I think that’s the best compliment I’ve ever received,” Mingyu countered, running a thumb along his jawline cockily.

“No, I have beef with whoever tweeted that now.”

“You’re just jealous that I like this tweet better than the threesome one.”

You sighed. “This interview was a bad idea. Your head is already so god damn big.”

Mingyu opened his mouth to retaliate, but paused like he had thought better of it and took a deep breath to compose himself.

“Anyway, moving on.”

You watched as he sifted through the tweets and chose one from the bottom, reading it to himself and grinning slightly before reading it aloud.

“‘Petition for y/n y/l/n to start an OnlyFans because I just know her tits are incredible. I can feel it in my bones’.”

You brought your hands up to your boobs self-consciously and laughed. “I don’t know about that, but thank you.”

“I’ve seen them,” Mingyu added nonchalantly, “and I can confirm that twitter user ‘geminisuns’ is correct.”

“Mingyu!”

“What? Do you know how many sex scenes we had to shoot? We’ve seen each other naked plenty of times.”

You looked back over to the crew and made eye contact with the producer. “Do you see what I have to deal with?”

“Maybe we should take a quick break,” she suggested and motioned for the cameras to stop rolling. “Get a drink, freshen up and be back here in five.”

“Do you think they’re going to use that part?” Mingyu asked as he followed you over to the water cooler.

“I don’t know, dude,” you sighed in annoyance, “but great fucking job. The whole world already thinks we’re boning.”

“I don’t know about the whole world.” You glared at him. “Wonwoo knows we’re not.”

Wonwoo. You had nearly forgotten that your boyfriend was there on set with you. You looked around for him, and saw him still sitting in his designated guest chair looking at his phone. You could only imagine what he must be thinking of all of this. You should probably say something to him.

You told Mingyu that you’d be back and made your way across the room to Wonwoo. Even from a distance you could tell that he was upset.

His knuckles were pale and his jaw was tight. He didn’t look up at you when you approached him.

“Sorry this is taking longer than expected,” you said, brushing a stray curl out of his eyes.

“Don’t worry about it,” he murmured in response, still not looking at you.

You sighed and draped yourself across him, slinging your arms loosely across his shoulders as you leaned down to see what he was doing on his phone. He was scrolling aimlessly on Instagram, not even liking any of the posts.

“If you’re bored you can leave,” you said curtly and stood back up.

“I’m not bored.”

“You’re not even paying attention to the shoot.”

“Trust me, it’s impossible not to. I’ve been trying to tune it out for the past ten minutes with no luck.”

“Why would you not want to pay attention?” you demanded even though the answer was sitting right in front of you. “This is a big deal for me.”

Wonwoo swallowed and finally looked up at you. “I know, baby. It’s just- do you know how hard it is to listen to my best friend talk about doing all of these dirty things to you-”

“He’s my best friend too,” you pointed out in a quiet hiss. “The only reason we’re together is because of him.”

Sometimes you felt the need to remind Wonwoo that you had known Mingyu longer than you had known him. If Gyu hadn’t brought him to set all those times back when you were filming in the fall, you wouldn’t even know about each other’s existence.

“I know that.”

“You’ve done interviews like this before,” you argued.

“I know,” he repeated.

“Then why are you being like this?” He didn’t answer, so you kept going. “You know my bare ass has been on tv, right-”

“Don’t,” Wonwoo warned and grabbed your wrist.

You gasped and flexed your fingers gingerly in his grasp, challenging him. “Don’t what?”

“Y/n,”

“Don’t... act like I want to fuck your best friend?”

He narrowed his eyes at you. “You’re enjoying this.” It wasn’t a question.

“Don’t pretend like I’d rather fulfill those tweets with him instead of you? Give the people what they want?”

You had to bite your tongue before you went any further and said something you might regret. Your words had already had the desired effect. You didn’t even have to look at Wonwoo’s lap to know that he was struggling not to get hard.

You could see it in his eyes. The arousal that had turned the warm brown into black. The way he was looking at you told you everything you needed to know. You wondered if you would even make it back home before he’d break, if he would pull the car over on the side of the road and take you then and there.

Your knees were weak at the mere thought of what you were in for later that night. Making Wonwoo jealous was admittedly one of your favorite pastimes, purely for selfish reasons. Possessive sex was arguably the best sex. The teasing, the hair-pulling, the choking, the face-fucking, all hit different when Wonwoo was reminding you who you belonged to.

Wonwoo released your wrist from his grip and raised his eyebrows expectantly. “Are you finished?”

You shook your head and grinned. “Just getting started.”

lmk what you thought; i always appreciate feedback!!

wonwoo tags: @wonw00t

shoot me an ask to be added/removed from my taglist

#pretend #wonwoo x reader #jeon wonwoo x reader #wonwoo x you #wonwoo x y/n #wonwoo x female reader #wonwoo smut #wonu smut #wonwoo fic #wonwoo fanfic #seventeen x reader #svt x reader

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newronantic · 3 years

Text

HAIKYUU!! FICS

so this is mostly gonna be for myself to keep track of my favorite fics i’ve read, but hey if anyone else wants to check some of these out then thats great

MHA one is up!!

ill keep updating this as i read more, feel free to send me suggestions!

KageHina

plain as day - emleewrites

In which Hinata has spent the better part of the last twenty years putting his heart and soul into volleyball, hoping to be recognised, to be noticed. And yet he spends all these years also thinking of himself as rather plain, beyond his lack of height and bright hair, and not really noticeable at all.

In Transit - Mysecretfanmoments

Hinata finds that he likes standing close to Kageyama on buses and trains. It doesn't mean anything--probably. Maybe.

I like the way your clothes smell - Mysecretfanmoments

Power outages, ghost stories, and the presence of a certain orange-haired boy lead to bad decision-making on Tobio's part. He'd planned to keep his crush a secret; the universe has other plans.

Chaotic Neutral - akaraka

Who's this Kageyama person on twitter and is he gay?

1: Anonymous: see title

2: Anonymous: curry king

3: Anonymous >> 1: It's the curry king, obviously. Have you been using his memes this whole time without knowing who he was?

4: Anonymous: 1) Hinata Shouyou's boyfriend 2) See above

jellyfish - mysterytwin

At the beginning of his last year at Karasuno High School, Hinata Shouyou starts a list and calls it THINGS TO DO BEFORE GRADUATION, all with high hopes that he’ll be able to complete it before his time runs out.

TsukkiYama

Try This On For Size - CloudMonsta

A lot changed for Yamaguchi Tadashi over the course of high school. He started trying on dresses, for one.

The Great Yamaguchi-Tsukishima Split (Capitalization Necessary) - WyYeuw

"But no, the current situation isn’t normal. This situation requires the full attention of the team.

No, what’s really concerning this time around, is that Yamaguchi is the one ignoring Tsukishima.”

Yamaguchi confesses. Tsukishima fucks up—like, really fucks up. The volleyball club notices and loses a week’s worth of practice.

IwaOi

Terrarium - sausaged

He's practically a professional at being proactive (lies, lies, and lies when it comes to Iwaizumi).

At this point, is he really happy with just staying best friends forever? Will he be writing journals and collecting rocks forever (he will, he knows, but that is aside from the point)?

Can he really tag his Instagram photos with #YOLO if he doesn't actually put that phrase into practice?

A story about Oikawa Tooru, Iwaizumi Hajime, plants, and rocks.

They Say it Rain Diamonds on Jupiter - exsao

"You're in love with him."

Hajime considers denying it. He considers deliberately choking on his drink to express surprise, to create a distraction by spitting onto the man in front of him's pristine white shirt and causing a commotion. Instead, he swallows his mouthful of soda and heaves a small sigh once his mouth is free.

"Yeah," he says instead.

He's never been good at lying, anyway.

bait and switch - Stylographic_Blue_Rhapsody

Oikawa's university volleyball team knows he's in a long-distance relationship with someone from high school. They imagine a sweet-faced girl that matches his sarcasm with patience. They are so incredibly wrong.

my heart is where it’s always been - foreverautumn

Iwaizumi places his phone down carefully.

Oikawa. Pining after someone. There’s no way.

(Iwaizumi knows he shouldn’t care who Oikawa might have feelings for, but within the span of three days, it’s somehow the only thing he can think about.)

KuroKen

Beautiful People Will Ruin Your Life - todxrxki

Kuroo Tetsurou runs a private Twitter account where he's constantly tweeting about how desperately in love he is with Kozume Kenma. Little does he know that Kenma sees all the tweets and keeps referencing the account in an attempt to get Kuroo to confess to him. / Or, five times Kuroo didn't notice Kenma hinting about his private Twitter account, and one time he finally did.

the things that get caught in the valves of his heart - ghostpot

Emotional competency is not exactly Kuroo's strong suit. Kenma finds it quite amusing.

Accidentally In Love - todxrxki

Kuroo frowns, but then slowly, the corners of his mouth lift up into a smirk. "Well, if it's so unbelievable, why don't we give it a try?"

Kenma glances up at him curiously. "What do you mean?"

"Let's do the 36 questions to fall in love," Kuroo says, still smirking stupidly. "If we don't fall in love, then you're right, it's bullshit. But if we do somehow..." Kuroo waggles his eyebrows. "Then I win." / Kuroo decides he and Kenma should do the 36 questions to fall in love as a joke, but they both start to realize they might actually be in love already.

the galaxy is endless (i thought we were, too) - cosmogony

TW: major character death

Kuroken AU where the last words your soulmate will say to you appear on your skin when you turn 16, and how Kenma and Kuroo learn what this means over the course of their lives

even if you’re ahead for a bit, i will catch up - ghostpot

Kuroo first confesses when they're sticky-fingered, wide-eyed kids, and subsequently every day after that. Kenma takes a while to come around.

you’re the brake lines failing (as my car swerves off the freeway) - ghostpot

Kenma thinks that Kuroo looks ugly with his head bent against the arm of the couch like that. Then Kenma thinks that he wants to marry him, and is promptly thrown into the 5 stages of grief.

teach me the way home - icespyders

“Don’t go far off, not even for a day, because —

because — I don’t know how to say it: a day is long

and I will be waiting for you, as in an empty station

when the trains are parked off somewhere else, asleep.”

Kuroo and Kenma grow up in transit.

in this universe - crossbelladonna

Living with Kuroo is sometimes, just like this. It always feels surreal like he's living half a world and a lot of things rush by too quickly. Kenma feels like he'd watched him come and go in a blink, eyes wide and wordless as the shared space went snug in an instant and far larger in the next.

All this, and a glass of water.

Beginning’s End - todxrxki

Somehow over the course of Kenma's lifetime, he’s never really had an opportunity to miss Kuroo. He’s always been there. Even when they went to different schools, Kuroo would meet him afterwards so they could walk home together, shoulders brushing, Kuroo occasionally taking the opportunity to guide him when his nose was buried in the newest video game. The thought of Kuroo not being there anymore is uncomfortable, to say the least. / Kozume Kenma's third year and the changes the year brings in himself and his relationship with Kuroo Tetsurou.

All I Want for Christmas is You - todxrxki

“Kuro,” he says. “You’re a single guy.”

“Yeah, great, thanks for pointing that out.”

“And my parents already know you, plus they already know you like guys or whatever so… what if you pretended to be my date for Christmas dinner?” / In which Kenma recruits his housemate and best friend Kuroo to be his fake date for Christmas.

BokuAka

just to miss the sun - rosevtea

Everything begins to implode when MSBY Jackals outside hitter Bokuto Koutarou crashes Akaashi's livestream.

Operation BokuAka - kazzydolyn

After spending two whole years watching Bokuto and Akaashi pine for one another, the rest of the Fukuroudani Volleyball Club has had enough. When everyone meets up for a reunion dinner, the team decides to play matchmaker and finally get the two of them together. Unfortunately, their plan starts to fall apart when they discover that Akaashi is already dating someone. And apparently so is Bokuto. What a strange coincidence.

bitter - silvercistern

He accepted his classmate's chocolates gracefully, then declared his lack of interest with as much dignity as he could muster. She deserved the courtesy. At least she'd acknowledged that Valentine's Day was all about her, and not about him in the slightest.

Because if any of these girls had taken the time to actually get to know him, they’d quickly realize something even more important than his lack of interest in girls.

And that was that Akaashi hated sweets.

In Another Life - LittleLuxray

TW: major character death

Sleeping didn't come as easy as it used to. Bokuto knew this, and now Akaashi did, too.

The hospital AU that no body asked for, but that I took upon myself to write.

120% yes - pissedofsandwich

TOKYO FRANCHISE COMING SOON @OnigiriMiya

in reply to @bokkun_official

Congratulations! In celebration of your historic engagement, please DM us so we can send you a free membership code with a 25% discount on every fourth purchase!

Kissing Ace - karasunovolleygays

It happens right after training camp.

Akaashi Keiji has a secret he has guarded since he was a child. He won’t go so far as to call it a fear, but more of an aspect of himself of which he is horribly mortified. No one on the team knows about it, and Akaashi does his best to keep it that way.

But years of dodging hugs and casual contact come to naught in the blink of an eye and the swipe of a hand.

daisy rings and frivolous things (i am deliriously in love with you) - gabstar

Akaashi Keiji is in love. Bokuto Koutarou is a star. Everyone on Fukurodani has a gambling problem.

SakuAtsu

The MSBY Black Jackals Read Thirst Tweets - isaksara (syailendra)

Sakusa’s eyes are very dark naturally, sucking in all surrounding rays of light and crushing them in his pupils. For an athlete, he is rather pale. His lips look very pink in comparison. Atsumu is suddenly catastrophically aware that in this instance, ‘accent’ is a euphemism. “Good enough for your Olympic-size ego, Miya?”

(In which Atsumu realizes that he is attracted to Sakusa Kiyoomi in the most inconvenient way possible.)

A Liar’s Truth - internetpistol

In which Sakusa Kiyoomi is raised to believe that gay people go to hell but then takes one look at Miya Atsumu and thinks, then why the hell did God make them so fucking hot?

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wondergal2001 · 2 years

Text

All Too Well

Carlisle Cullen x reader

Authors Note: I just watched the Twilight Saga for the first time and I got inspired to write this, it’s kind of random but oh well.

Based on the masterpiece that is “All Too Well (10 minute version) (Taylor’s Version)” by Taylor Swift

----

She should have expected the house to be beautiful. Beautiful but cold just like them. Just like the Cullen’s. But she didn’t really mind the cold, not when the cold came with his affection.

This was the first time Carlisle invited her over to his house, the first time she was meeting his family officially as his...whatever she was. They hadn’t really put a label on it yet, but she wanted nothing more than to be his partner. Girlfriend felt too superficial to describe their relationship, too superficial to describe her feelings towards the compassionate, and gentle immortal man known as Carlisle Cullen.

She felt like a flower blooming in the sun when he smiled at her like that. When she could practically feel the freedom and excitement to be himself and show her his true vampire self. When he giggled and bounced around to show her his strength. The whole forest seemed to light up when he pulled her out of the house to show her first-hand just how fast he could be. She was so excited to finally be a part of his life that she completely forgot about her favourite scarf laying on the front bench in his house.

------

She would reunite with her beloved scarf later that month during a Cullen family tradition which happened to be America’s favourite pastime. It was a testament to how beautiful he really was to see him wear her scarf around his beautiful frame, not many people could pull off a scarf but of course, he could. She remembers wrapping the ends of the scarf around her hands to pull him closer to her. His cold and marble body leans deliciously against her own warm and soft body. His arms find their natural place around her waist as he nuzzles his nose against her cheek listening to her whisper warm affirmations into his ear. His heart was so full of the love and affection she so graciously gave him. It had been so long since he felt so cared for, so appreciated. He almost forgot what it felt like to let another person give him the care he so selflessly gave to everyone else.

-----

This feeling stuck with him when they were driving through the forest on a mild autumn day. The weather in Forks was so rarely enjoyable so the windows were down allowing the breeze and warm air through the car. The breeze that carried the scents of leaves and earth also carried the luscious scent of his beloved’s blood to his keen nose.

This moment was one that he always feared would come. No matter how much control he had, he didn’t like to be reminded that it was his instinct to thirst and hunger for her blood, for her life. The fear of losing control for one second was always in the back of his mind, lingering no matter how happy he was.

But it was at this moment that he realized something. He was gazing over at her when he really should have been looking at the road who knows he might accidentally run a red light. Her hair was flying everywhere in the car, the wind blowing her hair and scent away from her face. Even though her hair was now a mess, all frizzy and tangled, he still thought she was the most gorgeous sight he has ever laid eyes on in his centuries of life. He realized that as much as his nature and instinct wanted to taste her blood, he would always want her soul more.

And this unprecedented feeling scared him more than his true nature did.

-----

Most people would think that after you say ‘I love you’, the relationship evolves to something deeper and becomes better. Not this one. But love can be blinding.

No matter how many times she proclaimed her love for him she never realized he never said it back. Instead of declaring his love for her, he gave her a soft smile or a soft kiss. But she never noticed, too caught up in this feeling of lightness, the feeling of him.

It took her some time, but she’s smarter than she looks. She realized something was off after he turned down multiple invitations to hang out with her friends, to out to the club and dance the night away. But what really smacked the truth in her face was when he would take a step away from her when someone walked past them on the street. When he would drop her hand when another person was near them.

-----

She learned the hard way that ignorance wasn't bliss.

She tried to ignore the signs that he was closing off from her. God knows he made it so easy for her to forget how different he acted when they were alone.

She swore to herself that she would bring it up, that she would ask why he dropped her fucking hand. But he was distracting. Especially when he looked at her like that.

She was just teasing him about the old renaissance painting of him and the Volturi. Even though he told her repeatedly his kind couldn't blush she swore she could see a flush on his usually pale cheeks. After numerous jokes, teases and giggles made at his expense he finally scooped her up into his strong arms, swinging her around the kitchen.

What started as a graceless swinging of limbs turned into dancing in the light from the fridge gazing into each other's eyes. He was just so perfect that she got distracted.

-----

She reflected on their relationship when he cancelled on her yet again, refusing to go out and spend time together with her friends. She wondered if it wasn't the crowds of people full of blood that bothered him as he said or if it was the crowds of people who would see them. These days she thought maybe keeping their relationship a secret was more important than keeping what his family was a secret. She remembered when he told her his true nature. When she swore an oath that she would never share his secret. She wonders if she is his secret now.

She always saw their relationship as a masterpiece but maybe it was really a masterpiece left in the rain.

She always thought this was love, but maybe he just saw her as a chance to be loved.

------

She thinks she was right after all. These thoughts flood her head as he walks into her home without the usual shine that comes with their love. His cryptic message that they needed to talk, that he needed to be honest had scared her. He made no move to comfort her fear as she hoped he would.

She was struggling to understand his words, it was almost like he was speaking a different language. The last thing she heard was the word ‘over’.

She must have been staring at him for longer than she thought, when she finally came back into focus he was standing with his coat back on closer to the door than he was when he started talking. She couldn’t understand why. Why was he saying these things? Why did he let her give all of this love if he was just going to throw it all away?

Why?

It seems she said this out loud accidentally. He just looked down and sighed, like he was getting his heart and soul crushed. She could see he was tense, his back pin-straight, arms extended at his sides, feet turned towards the nearest exit.

Cruel was not a word used to describe Carlisle Cullen. But after finally giving her one-word question an answer before promptly leaving, she thought him to be so casually cruel. Maybe he thought that giving her a reason that she could not control would make her feel better, it ended up doing the opposite.

To think that her age really bothered him that much confused her more than anything. For him to believe that if she was closer to his age maybe it would have been different, did he not realize he was over 300 years old? Maybe he was looking for someone more mature, she never would have considered herself immature but maybe she’s been fooling herself.

----

In the months he and his family had been gone, she finds herself thinking about the image he had of her in his head. Maybe it was void of immaturity. A never-needy, ever-lovely jewel whose humanity excited him and then bored him.

She knew he was gone, and that he wouldn’t be coming back. But still, she found herself looking at the door waiting for him to show up. She couldn’t seem to stop herself.

----

She must have manifested this, she thinks while she's in her car staring gobsmacked at his beautiful visage once again. He left her speechless just like when he left. He looked the exact same standing there like not a day had gone by like his undead heart had not been broken.

And maybe it hadn't. She would never know. For the rest of her life, she would wonder if the lover affair had maimed him as it maimed her. Maybe he cared so little for the relationship that he remembered none of it. But she would, she could remember how beautiful their love was at the beginning, it glittered like the first fall of snow. And thinking about how much their love had changed, she decided it wasn’t worth it.

He had left her. He had thrown one of her insecurities in her face and left her heart to bleed.

As much as she loved him, she couldn't forgive him. With this thought in her head, she drove further down the street, never looking back at his figure getting smaller in the mirror.

She thought he hadn’t noticed her, but of course, he did.

He too knew he would never be forgiven, not that he deserved it.

The guilt for breaking apart one of the brightest souls he has ever encountered made him feel cold for the first time in his immortal life. He walked down the street, wrapping the scarf tighter around his neck. And as he walked back to his cold and mateless life he remembered her, he always would.

He would remember the wind in her hair, her sacred prayer. He would remember it all in his wildest dreams.

----

Author’s Note: This was my first one-shot 🙊What did you guys think?

#twilight #carlisle x reader #carlisle cullen #twilight new moon #all too well #angst

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cardansriddle · 3 years

Note

Could you do a Yandere Tom Riddle where he meets S/O who is exactly like him Slytherin, Halfblood, conceived under a love potion and cold at heart? (You can if you want to)

Destined- Tom Riddle

A/N: I have to admit I strayed away from the topic just a tad bit and got carried away. I did not really explore the Yandere side of Tom here, and this is kinda shitty i know. But I decided to post it nonetheless.

He heard whispers about you.

It had not been surprising at first, Hogwarts did not allow any transfers, yet apparently you had been an exception. Perhaps that should have been his first sign to gain information on you, after all, you had to be quite extraordinary for the Headmaster to make an exception, right? However, he had completely overlooked your arrival, not giving her a second glance during the classes, in the hallways, or at the Slytherin table where he would dine.

Yet two weeks passed, and while Tom had expected the whispers to cease, they seemed to increase each day. That was the exact reason why he had decided to finally see what all the fuss was about. What was so special about you that no one could shut up about the new girl?

His fellow Slytherins would always sneer whenever your name came up. He was tired of Abraxas going on a rant about how halfbloods were not pure enough to be sorted into Slytherin, and once Tom had snapped, throwing a hex at him to shut him up. After all, he was a halfblood as well.

He was hidden in the safety of the shadows, tracking your silent steps as you moved through the corridors of the ancient castle, your soft hair cascading down your back while you adjusted the strap of your bag, releasing a frustrated huff every now and then. Many would move out of your way, parting and allowing you to pass and Tom's brows furrowed at the obvious action of fear— or was it respect?— as he continued to follow you.

After a short while, his patience started to run out, and he was quite tired of tracking your steps. The boy was tempted to slip some truth serum into your drink at some point, yet he had refrained, a part of him knowing you would somehow take notice of the trickery. He knew it by the way your eyes would survey the room very carefully as if you were cautious and distrustful of everyone that surrounded you. It bothered him how similar both of your mindsets were.

He heard you had managed to hex a handful of students ever since your arrival, whispering such threats in their ears that they would leave with trembling limbs.

You had darkness in you, and Tom was planning on unleashing it.

You finally made it to the library, politely greeting the old librarian before moving to your usual table in the corner, a space that was secluded and away from prying eyes. You pulled out an unfamiliar book and did not waste a second before you were indulged in it.

Tom watched, as your brows knitted together in concentration, as you pulled your lower lip in between your thumb and pointer finger, as you ran a hand through your soft hair in frustration, and he devoured every little action.

A little amount of time passes before he could not stand the questions gnawing at his mind, so he finally decided to approach you, settling in the chair next to you with grace.

You looked up from your book, your expression annoyed as you stared at the Prefect next to you. "Can I help you?"

He did not respond for a brief moment, as his eyes fell to the cover of the book you were currently reading. 'Love Potions: The Dangers and Effects'

"An interesting choice of book." He expressed his thought sourly, wondering why she would waste her time reading a book on Love Potions. Had he miscalculated things? Was she not special? Was she just another foolish girl searching for love? He almost gagged at the thought.

"Not particularly." You answered with a tired sigh. "It was apparently written by an imbecile because there is no useful information in here." With that said, you snapped the book shut and turned to him, cocking an eyebrow. "Is there something you need, Riddle? Because I would rather not waste my time and chit-chat."

"Many would love to be in your place and chit-chat with me, darling." He answered, his lips curling into a smug smirk. You rolled your eyes at his arrogance. "What was it that you were looking for in a book about Love Potions?"

You glanced at him, debating whether or not to actually answer his question. You've heard that Tom Riddle was the brightest student in school, and after some contemplation, you came to the conclusion that perhaps he would have some insight on the subject you were so interested in.

"What do you know about children conceived under the effects of a love potion?" You asked, and quirked a brow as his body stilled. His guarded eyes searched your face before he straightened his spine.

"Why are you asking?"

You sighed then, figuring he did not know about it. "Forget it. You're just as useless as the imbecile who wrote this." You made a move to grab your book and put it back in your bag, yet you were startled when his hand slammed on the table, the other grabbing the back of your chair as he leaned in towards you.

"Watch your mouth." He snarled.

"Jeez, you're sensitive." You smirked as you put your hand on his chest in an attempt to push him away.

He continued to glare at you, even as he settled back in his seat.

"Children conceived under the love potion are told to be void of most of the emotions. They cannot feel, they cannot sympathise, and cannot feel love."

His words caused you to freeze in your place, and it was as if realisation dawned upon you as you stared numbly at your hands. So that is why you felt no remorse, no regret, no guilt- and no love towards the people you were supposed to care about.

He watched you, as you seemed to be mulling over things in your head, and a thought struck his head.

“Were you conceived under the effects of the love potion?”

You looked up, surprised at his bluntness.

You debated lying to him, yet you knew Tom Riddle, and he was not the type to gossip or indulge in similar useless activities, so with a bitter smile, you responded. “Yes. I was.”

Something churned in Tom’s heart, something dangerous as he stared at you. You were...similar to him. He had never been able to say that about someone. There had been no one that could understand his feelings- or well, the lack of- and now there you were, the one person in the universe who happened to have the same unfortunate fate as him.

“So was I.” Was his unexpected response. You saw no deception behind his gaze and knew he had no reason or motive to lie about such a thing, and you believed him.

It was then that you had formed a bond that went unspoken. It was as if you understood each other without needing to speak the words. And that is how that weird night blossomed into days of spending time together, becoming friends. It was quite easy, you matched each other’s level both emotionally and intellectually, and it came as a relief to the both of you.

Whatever you two had, had blossomed into a deep trustful releationship, and you had been informed of Tom’s plans for the future. As expected, you supported his idea, his beliefs, and your own thirst for power had you feeling giddy at the idea of becoming unstoppable.

It was when you were both at that same table in the library when he spoke the words that you swore made you feel something.

“As I rule over the world.” He breathed. “I want you by my side, ruling as the Dark Lady. The world will be ours. We will be a force to be reckoned with.”

You had looked up at him with utter yet pleasant surprise, and you had felt your lips curl into a smirk as you agreed, because how could you not when he was offering the whole world to you?

He then had grabbed your chin, lifting your face and brushing his soft lips against yours.

That day, he had kissed you so hard, you thought your lips would bruise, yet you did not dare complain. If that was what pain felt like, you would take it every day, only to feel his lips on yours once more.

The universe had created you for one another, two similar souls destined for a great purpose. Destined to rule the world.

#tom riddle #tom marvolo riddle #tom riddle fanfic #tom riddle fanfiction #tom riddle one shot #tom riddle imagine #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle x you #tom riddle x oc #tom riddle angst #tom riddle fluff #idk what this is

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wlwmarvelenthusiast · 3 years

Note

AU with vampire Natasha x reader with a happy end? Please and thanks.

May I present to you: vampire Natasha and werewolf reader.

Stakes and Silver Bullets

Summary: Hunting at the full moon with Natalia by your side is a perfect cross between heinous and beautiful. One particular night proves that it can also be dangerous.

Pairings: Vampire!Natasha x Werewolf!Reader

Warnings: Repeated mentions of blood

Word Count: 4,485

To most people, the moon represented the fall of night. It was just this simple rock in the sky that reflected just enough sunlight that the planet wasn’t tossed into darkness as the sun dipped beyond the horizon. Sure, artists might have loved the way it bathed the land before it in a different type of glow, and maybe some people could appreciate the beauty that was so much gentler than the harsh glare of the afternoon sun. For you, it was different. The moon was beauty and terror all wrapped up in one, simple celestial body.

Tonight, the moon wasn’t quite full, but it almost was. You didn’t have to check a calendar or even take a single glance out the window to know that. You felt it in your very bones. It was urging and primal. It had erased every other thought that might have flitted through your mind. In comparison to it, they were irrelevant. The glowing orb spoke to you. It made your soul sing along to its silent melody, your heart pounding to the steady beat. It was your very reason for being. But so was she.

“When is your night?”

You turned. There she was, the bright moonlight streaming through the window she sat at, shining upon her and making her glow even more beautifully than was her usual. Her red hair was still tousled from her midnight hunt, like dancing flames falling over her shoulders. Your eyes fell to the stain on her white dress, even redder than her hair. You only hummed in response as you stood up from your chair, paper and quill abandoned on the desk thoughtlessly. You moved toward her, arms moving delicately around her waist. Soon, you were standing with your head buried against her neck, revelling in that familiar feeling of the cold surface, lack of a throbbing pulse comforting in the strangest of ways.

“Tomorrow.”

She was clearly resisting still, refusing to succumb to the arousal she knew would start building any second now. “And how are you feeling on this eve?”

You actually growled a little, the sound canine in a way that no simple person would be able to achieve. “Primal.”

She hummed contentedly as you brushed your lips against the skin where you rested. You pulled away, delicately pressing the pads of your fingers against the underside of her chin, directing her lips onto yours. She immediately responded, her hands moving onto your cheeks, thumbs brushing against your cheekbones as you kissed her. The taste of blood in her mouth was exhilarating. Everything about her was. You ran your tongue along sharp fangs, loving the slight sting in the muscle as the surface scratched open. She retracted immediately.

“You are truly foul, my love,” she said, disgust crossing her features as she wiped her thumb against her lips, removing your blood from her mouth.

Maybe that’s why the two of you worked so well. This proximity with any other person would have been enthralling. The smell alone would have had her digging her fangs into the pulsing artery in their neck. That sweet substance that flowed through the veins of any breathing person was irresistible to that person she’d become all those years ago. You weren’t just any person. You had the blood of a wolf, and it repulsed her.

She was void of any of the substance. Those nights when you lost yourself, when you let that beast take over you completely, she was of no interest to you. The townsfolk were all you cared for- all you ached to taste between your lips. She would take hunt beside you, by your side during night as well as day, love burning so strong within you both even when you were doing things so hideous.

You were both killers. You were among the most hideous things that dared walk the Earth among things so beautiful. Monsters already, what was the harm in loving one another? You’d be burned at the stake for the blood that ran through your veins anyway. In for a penny, in for a pound. At least now, neither of you was alone. You loved each other fully and entirely. If love was a human emotion, then she was your humanity, and you were hers.

“Foul? Is that so, Natalia, my beloved?” You jeered, a smile crawling across your lips. “Who is it that loves you so dearly?”

Her taunting halted immediately at the husk in your words. Your hands were sliding down from where you’d had them linked over her shoulders, fingers sliding over the silky fabric that draped over her body. Your gaze wouldn’t leave hers, the image of the moon shimmering in your irises as if it were a reflection of the beast that lived within. She knew who you were. She was the only one who knew who you really were, and she loved every piece of you, including that beast, with her unbeating heart. Her words caught in her throat for a long moment.

“You,” she couldn’t help but hum as your hands squeezed her hips. “Only you.”

Your hands slid down to her thighs over top of her dress. “I know.”

Your hands moved away. Despite the small whine that escaped her, it seemed the absence of your touch allowed her to regain her composure a little. Your fingertips danced across her chest and against the pendant that you’d given her a year ago. It was a gift, something you reasoned you earned for her, even if you’d taken off the lifeless body you’d woken up next to after a long night of feral canine power. She leaned forward to kiss you once more, but you leaned away from her, a smile on your face. You extended a hand.

“Come.”

She put her hand into yours and you led her toward the bedroom. Her lips touched yours once more. The feeling would always be so much stronger and far more intoxicating than the feeling of the full moon inching closer day by day. The moon used to be the thing that made you. It had once been your heart and your soul, and it had guided you through every aspect of your life. That was years ago. Today, it was her. Everything was her.

“I love you,” she whispered, red eyes boring into yours with such intensity you were sure she could read every single piece of your soul.

“And I you, my love.”

You embraced her, lying her down and kissing her again.

Tomorrow, she’d be with you in a way that would make the townsfolk cower in their homes, as if thin walls were any defence against your combined bloodlust. Her thirst and your hunger had wooden doors shattered into splinters within seconds of discovering the scent of life, or the sound of a terrified heart beating inside a breathing chest. Nothing would keep either of you away from that.

That night, though, wasn’t about the kill. It wasn’t about what you would do in the future at all. Right then, you lay with your skin against hers in the most sinful of ways. Hers was so cold but the canine blood running beneath yours was hot, as if you were made to balance each other out. Her lips were roaming across your torso and your hand was moving toward that part of her body only you knew. If you weren’t already damned from the wolf in your spirit or the blood that had spilled beneath you each month, then you’d surely be for lying with a woman in such a way. That, though, would have been a risk you’d have been willing to take.

Still, you had to wonder if those other nights were just as intimate. On those nights with her, when the moon was at its fullest and her body ached for that bitter taste it needed so badly, you felt so close. Those nights weren’t necessarily something you wanted. They were something you needed; to fulfill those carnal needs and satiate your body in a way nothing else could. Without those nights, neither of you would survive to love each other through to the next moon. When she was by your side, performing those nefarious acts and satisfying her most primal of needs, you were both showing that part of you that you knew only the other would ever be able to love. That meant just as much to you as hearing your name tearing desperately from her lips on a silent night like that one.

As the body beneath you began shuddering uncontrollably and your name was repeatedly thrown into the cool air like a prayer, you decided it didn’t matter. You had both. It didn’t matter which brought you closer. Both things brought her a satisfaction that made you just as content. Both would have you watching her with love coursing through your veins hot as lava and yet somehow as cold as ice. Maybe that’s what made them so intimate. How you loved loving her and how you loved being at your very worst by her side.

“How are you feeling, my darling?” You cooed softly, loving the way she threw her head back for you upon hearing your words.

You grinned a little as her shaking subsided. She kissed you with a force and passion behind it that any living person would have lost the energy to do. Even you were worn out. When she pulled her lips off yours, you couldn’t help but fall back against the pillows, breathing a little heavier than usual. She chuckled at this, beckoning you to come closer to her bare body. You did so without hesitation.

“Goodnight,” she whispered as you lay down at her side.

“Hold me, Natalia?”

“Always.”

It amazed you, the patience she had. She couldn’t sleep. She didn’t need it. Yet, her arms would wrap around you as you drifted off to a world where still your dreams were of her, and when you’d awaken, she’d be in that same spot right by your side. It was endearing, and made you lean to kiss her each and every morning. Each of those mornings she’d ask you the same questions: wondering how you slept and making sure her arms hadn’t been too tight around you. She did, after all, have the strength of a mammoth.

Your answer was always the same, too. You were fine. You would always be okay, as long as she was by your side. You both knew that if she had blood beneath her skin, she would blush. She would still giggle softly, turning her cheeks away from you on instinct, as if they were burning with that bright colour of embarrassment. The action was sweet. It would make you smile as you reached out for her, bringing her back against your chest for another few minutes before the both of you decided to venture out into the other rooms of your house.

Maybe it was the nightmare you’d had last night, but something was off in the woman you loved. She was busy sitting in one of the armchairs in the other room, cowering away from the sunlight that had managed to penetrate the small crack in the boards over the windows. You covered it up, taking away that dangerous ray of light as you moved swiftly to take a spot beside her. Your fingers threaded into hers with one hand, as the other came up to her cheek. Her face was filled with such concern, and it was making your heart ache.

“Natalia?” You tried ever so softly. “Speak to me, my dove.”

Slowly, her eyes turned to yours. “One day you will depart from this world, and I will be left without you, and you own a piece of me. I will never be whole without you.”

Truthfully, your mind sometimes wandered to that inevitable day as well. You worried, the thought constantly in the back of your head, wreaking havoc on your mind every time it dared wander to the event. It had taken her more than a hundred years to find someone to love the way she loved you, and the two of you were interconnected in a way you were sure a mortal person could never dream to understand.

You reached out for one of the old wooden chairs, bringing it toward you and, in a flair of theatrics, snapped off one of the legs. The superhuman act seemed to have quite the effect on her. Her tongue darted out from between her lips, eyes tracing the strong muscles on your arms. You chuckled, moving forward and flipping the broken chair leg over in the air, catching it back in your hand.

“When I depart from this world, my dearest of loves, you take this. If you find that you cannot bear this life without me, then follow me.”

She took the broken piece of furniture into her own hands. It was the only thing that could tear her from the life she’d been so long living. Splinters of wood fell from the end, scattering silently on the floor. She ran her fingertips over the old wooden stake, and you could tell she was wondering what it might feel like to have it driven through her heart. She set it on her lap and looked up at you, head tilted to the side in curiosity.

“And what if something befalls me?”

That was something you’d thought about before as well. She may have been unsusceptible to time, but she wasn’t so to the weapons the townsfolk brandished whenever they heard the name of the monster that lived over the hillside. Losing her would tear you apart, and you knew that, after all this time with her, you’d never be able to survive without her. That was a fact you’d long accepted.

You reached into your pocket, pulling out something so small you could hold it between two fingers. “Then I will follow you into the next life.”

The silver bullet shone in the candlelight, glistening as if to taunt you, knowing it was the only thing that would ever hurt you.

She beckoned you. You pocketed the small piece of metal once more, sitting down beside her as she brought you into her arms as if you were the most delicate material on the planet. That was how you stayed, knowing now that you would never have to live on a planet that didn’t have her, and she wouldn’t have to live without you. It was comforting in the most morning of ways. It seemed though, that was your normal: morbid and loving.

That was how you remained that day. She didn’t like you exerting yourself the day of a full moon. It kept you up all night and, if you didn’t rest the day before, you’d be worn when the sun came back up. She wouldn’t let that feeling of absolute exhaustion take over you. She could hardly remember how it even felt, having not rested for so many years, but she knew she didn’t like when you were uncomfortable.

You were only made aware of the time when the candle died out in front of you. You squirmed in her arms, kissing her cheek when she let you go. You peeked out the window to get the last glimpse of an orange sunset over the horizon. You couldn’t help but grin as you felt something tugging deep within your chest. You turned back toward the woman behind you, eyes already glowing with that golden shine when you did.

“My, is it time already?” She chuckled, rising from her seat so that she could run a hand lovingly down your cheek. “Let me know when we leave, my darling girl.”

You burst out the door just as that last glow of the sun finally faded out. The way your body bathed in the moonlight was addicting. You felt every last bit of human in you fade away, golden eyes reflecting that white orb in the sky as you watched it, morphing into that canine form that would make the townsfolk tremble in fear. The feeling of your body becoming who it was meant to be was indescribable, but it was so right.

You didn’t attempt to suppress the canine howl that erupted from your gut. It would have been unstoppable, and letting it out was like breathing out a breath that you’d been holding in all month. At the sound, too, she finally stepped through the front door, the sunlight that reflected off the moon not enough to hurt her in the way it did in the day. She took one look at you, eyes still so full of love even when you were in this form.

“You sound excited, love.”

You couldn’t have answered her if you wanted to.

The two of you tore off toward the town at a speed that would have had any regular person reeling. The doors were all shut and locked tight. You let her break down the first one. You approached, standing back and staring at hers, two sets of unnatural eyes locking in a passionate gaze. She smiled ever so gently before she moved forward, tearing the door off its hinges.

The screams from the couple inside only fueled you forward. You raced into the house, headed immediately for whatever beating heart she hadn’t already claimed. The man begging for life beneath you couldn’t have been more than twenty. He was pleading and sobbing and chanting his girl’s name, not knowing that yours had already killed her. You made sure to silence his cries.

Natalia was done long before you were. Even as you fed, you felt her eyes on you. It didn’t bother you. She never judged you, and she never would. How could she, being a monster herself? When you pulled away, blood coating your lips and cheeks, dripping down your neck and onto your chest, her pupils dilated a little. She moved forward, using her thumb to brush some of the blood off your cheek and putting it to her own lips.

“Shame. You taint that sweet taste,” she chuckled a little, letting you eye the red substance that was dripping down the corner of her mouth. “You are, however, still as beautiful as you are on any night.”

You wished you could kiss her right then, instead settling for the press of her forehead against yours. You could actually feel your heartbeat shift so that it drummed in time with hers. It was a long couple moments of that, her against you like you were the only two people in the entire world, before she finally pulled away. She smirked as she looked you up and down.

“Repulsive.”

You would have laughed.

The two of you moved through the village like that for a little longer, finding your next victim stupidly roaming the street at midnight on a full moon. You agreed to share the meal with the woman who’d actually been the one to catch it. You took a few steps back, watching as his face paled as Natalia drained the blood from his body. You could hardly believe how beautiful she looked. The moonlight hit every feature just right, illuminating her in a soft glow.

She stood when she’d finished, hand caressing your cheek as she did. “Had your fill yet, my darling?”

You shook your head no.

Neither of you had time, though, to go in search of your next meal. When you turned around, one of the townspeople was standing on the street, aiming a gun at you. You were cocky, at first, staring down the barrel knowing full well that no simple bullet would hurt you. When it whizzed toward you, though, and pierced your skin, ripping through your gut and shooting a searing pain through your body, you got considerably less cocky.

You watched as the woman who had been at your side flew forward and in one swift move, ended the life of the man in front of you. When you fell back, your eyes found the wound that was pushing your blood onto the cobblestone street below you. It was pooling, reflecting the moon above it. You felt blood starting to bubble up in your throat and you coughed violently.

You felt yourself being scooped into a strong set of arms. Her face looked blurry. Though, so did everything else. You could feel that you were moving so fast you were practically flying back toward home. You wondered if you would make it all that way, but it seemed that she was determined. You strained to keep awake, just for her. You weren’t successful.

The world wasn’t dark for long. Yet perhaps it was just that it didn’t feel long. When you blinked your eyes back open, red ones were watching you with such concern that all you wanted to do was kiss her worries away. Unfortunately for you, though, her worries were you. You didn’t have the strength to sit up and pull her toward you. You hardly had the strength to groan her name and let your hand travel over your own abdomen.

“Be careful, my love.”

You felt her hand cover yours in an attempt to bring your fingers away from the wound. You felt first that the skin beneath your fingertips was smooth. You’d morphed back into your human form at some point while you’d been unconscious. Then, you felt the dried blood that caked the area where you’d been shot. You whimpered at the tenderness of your own touch. A hand tugged on yours, bringing the pressure away from the area.

“Don’t touch.”

You squeezed her hand with all the energy you had. “Darling…”

“I know, Dove.”

Pain was searing throughout your body in a way you’d never experienced before. The bullet had not only pierced your body, but it was poisoning your blood in the way that only silver could. You groaned softly, clutching tight onto Natalia’s hand with all the strength that you could muster, which wasn’t a lot. Tears were streaking down her cheeks now, showing you an emotion that you didn’t often see on her face.

“Please,” you begged softly. “I cannot move on without you. I cannot leave you here to continue on without me.”

You immediately felt guilty for the effect of those words. She pulled you close, getting on her knees beside the bed and resting her head on your arm. You hushed her softly as a sob broke through her lips, the sound able to shatter your heart as if it were made from the finest glass known to man. You apologized as soft as you could, repeatedly and honestly. You beckoned her into the bed beside you.

You knew you were starting to fade. You could feel it. There was no light at the end of the tunnel. You could feel darkness looming in that place, waiting for you and waiting to punish you for every life you’d ever taken. That number was higher than you could count. You were shaking, sure the woman beside you could feel it against her body. You weren’t sure if it was a last effort of strength from your dying body, or a display of absolute terror to leave life behind.

“Natalia…”

“I am right here.”

You grabbed the front of her shirt in a weak fist, using gravity to help you in pulling her closer. At first, she thought you were trying to bring her lips onto hers. When she tried to kiss you, though, you shook your head, turning away. Face turned away from her, now, you had exposed a different part of your body to her. You guided her mouth down to her neck, whimpering as you felt her lips lightly brush the skin.

“No,” she refused. “You have the blood of a wolf. You could die.”

“Without it, I surely will,” you gasped, air feeling further away with each passing moment. “Please. Try.”

You could only feel it as she nodded. It was so carefully that she nuzzled against you, as if trying to memorize what your pulse felt like against her cheek. However tonight ended, that was something she’d very likely never feel again. You managed to hush her quietly as you felt a tremble run through her body. Her hand came to clutch yours as you finally felt her part her lips against your skin.

“Vile,” she muttered, and you felt a small smile grace her lips. “I love you, my darling.”

“As I you.”

With that, her fangs punctured your skin. The world went dark around you.

You were sore when you woke. Mostly it was in your neck. You swung your legs off the bed despite it, desperate to go find the woman who must have been worrying. You found her in the living room lighting a candle. She turned to you before you even had a second to clear your throat and try and get her attention. She was on you in an instant, peppering your face in soft kisses.

“You stayed with me,” she whispered.

“I could never imagine life or death without you, Natalia. I had to stay,” you chuckled, kissing her back briefly. “So, what am I?”

She shrugged. “The woman I love. Is that not what matters?”

You chuckled lightly. “Of course.”

She smiled, bringing you to her, resting her head against your chest. You wondered if your heart had stopped beating beneath her ear, but it didn’t really matter. All that mattered was that you were with her, as alive as you needed to be. You couldn’t be in life without her, just as you couldn’t be in death without her. She was your everything, and nothing would be whole away from that.

You were snapped out of your thoughts when you felt her hand slide. It moved down your arm, across your side and your hip until it had slipped into your pocket, pulling out that shining piece of metal that resided there. She rolled the bullet slowly between two fingers, glancing at it with deep interest before handing it back to you. You took it in one hand, your other staying on her.

“I do not think it will work,” she remarked softly. “I think we have forever.”

You tossed the bullet out the window into the light of the waning moon. She pulled away from you. You watched as she moved away and picked up the splintering wooden stake that leaned against the table, smiling once at you as she held it out. She turned away, tossing it upon the roaring flames in the fireplace; the wood catching quickly and becoming nothing but fuel.

“Forever,” you hummed as she moved back into your arms. “Forever with you would be beautiful.”

#natasha romanoff #natalia romanova #natalia romanoff #marvel #mcu #natasha request #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha x reader #wlw #lesbian #natasha romanoff au #vampire natasha

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prophxtslash · 3 years

Note

Hi there! So a while ago, you posted your thoughts on how certain survivors would thirst over slasher - reader. I absolutely loved them! If you’re interested, can you please share your thoughts on Leon, Felix, Kate, and Jill thirsting over slasher reader? If not, please feel free to disregard my ask!

Of course I can! I was going to link the others here to read as well, but I'm lazy lol

Killer!Reader

Leon Kennedy

Like many survivors within this predicament, Leon is in vehement denial over the ordeal. Being as someone who has a high set of morals, the idea of having any semblance of attraction towards a ‘killer’ leaves the young cop nauseous, his conscience screaming at him to snap out of this lovesick stupor.

When in trials with you, Leon has a hard time doing his job properly, fumbling with wires and needles when within your radius, a slight flush to his ears as he forces the feeling down, the need to protect the others trumping any attraction towards you. However, whenever he is the last one standing, his feet trip over themselves and his eyes dart back to you more, his heart threatening to beat out of his chest.

Leon wallows quite a bit, agonizing over his descending sanity and moral code, and even though many other survivors (especially those who have been here for far too long) assure him that this is actually quite normal, he continues to beat himself up over it. Nights at the campfire alone consist of fingers pressed hard against his scalp, head hung low and knees pulled flush against his chest.

Eventually, everyone gets found out in the end, and Leon is no exception. You’ll have to quite literally corner him into an admission, his breath uneven and hot as he presses against the wall, his eyes darting to everywhere but you. Force the words out of him, through any means, and he’ll be left a crumbling, shattered mess for you.

Felix Richter

While others may struggle with this type of attraction due to morals and the like, with Felix, it’s a bit more complicated, given that he not only ‘technically’ still has a girlfriend, but also a child, so initially, the guilt of practically abandoning them plagues him

Had it been another survivor he was engaging with in this sense, it wouldn’t have been as bad, but given that you’re one of the many responsible for a large part of the suffering he and the others undergo, Felix can’t help but feel even worse. This is a person who hurts and even kills him on a daily basis, yet here is wishing to be closer to them. He’s disgusted with himself, disgusted for his family even, yet he can’t bring himself to pull away.

When in trials with you, Felix tends to keep a level head, putting the objectives ahead of whatever feelings he may be harboring towards you. However, when alone with you, he sometimes slips up, wires becoming tangled and pallets barely slammed down, his body taking over for what his mind cannot keep up with.

Every chase (or lack thereof) must come to an end, so when you’re finally able to corner him, to get up close and personal, Felix falters, his eyes locked onto some horizon right above your shoulder, his fists curling and uncurling.

Kate Denson

Kate has been here far too long; hell, she still remembers the time where it was only her and a handful of others. As such, being in the Realms for too long changes you, changes the way you feel. Once a realization is made, Kate more or less shrugs; if it helps cope with this hell, then why not?

Kate, regardless of whatever may be bothering her, is always able to pull through for both herself and others within trials. If anything, this constant routine of surviving and dying has become second nature, her mind wandering to you and what you may be up to even when in the middle of chase, or even when dangling from a meat hook. This almost daydreaming of you offers a temporary escape from the uncertainty that is the realms; regardless of how inherently wrong it is.

In a sick way, her fascination with you stems from a desire to help you; that if someone were to simply listen or even just be there, you’d turn away from the darkness, so to speak. She believes that you’re not inherently evil, yet not inherently good either; she believes you’ve just been presented with no other options.

Unlike others, Kate would actively seek you out within your realm, the pressure from keeping this fascination secret building up. Whatever outcome is reached, she is ready for, and should you readily accept her admission, she’d dedicate herself to you, determined to save you from both the Entity and yourself.

Jill Valentine

Where Leon crumbles and agonizes, Jill refuses to even acknowledge the swelling feelings within her, forcibly shoving it down to never see the light of day. Sure, she’ll internally beat herself up about it, but not another soul will ever know that she’s weak enough to fall prey to this.

As such, trials come and go, and Jill never falters, never sways when faced against you. It could even be said that she does better when against you, her need to dominate and beat you trumping all else. If she can’t beat these stupid feelings out of her, it’s enough for her to glance back and see you seethe in the exit gates, your knuckles taut against your weapon as you watch her escape.

Should she even dwell on her fascination for you for even a moment, Jill will plummet, her mind immediately swallowing up any interaction the two of you had shared from previous trials, from the smallest, brush of your hand against her back to your face inches from hers, her vision going in and out as you tear into her body, the meat hook laying barren a few inches away. These desperate pleas for intimacy leaves her rabid, leaves her curling further and further into herself.

Much like the others, you’ll have to force Jill into submission, the meat hook piercing her shoulder in one plunge, your ears ringing from the shrillness of her scream. Force every obscenity, curse, and yell from her, and eventually, you’ll be gifted an uncharacteristic quiet, her shoulders sagging as her admission comes out in a whisper. After this, she’s broken and malleable, leaving you to do with this new found relationship as you please.

#leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #felix richter #felix richter x reader #kate denson #kate denson x reader #jill valentine #jill valentine x reader #dbd x reader #dbd headcanons #prophet writes #prophet answers #fwooo this one's a long one boys sorry bout that

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yourheartonfire · 3 years

Text

A continuation of this poor rebel x royal pair from here, though I do think this snippet stands on it's own. Thanks to @gingerly-writing for the original prompt!

After the stuff the enemy medics had forced down the protagonist's throat, there was no clear line between sleeping and waking. But eventually the ache in their muscles and bruises cut through the fog of the sleeping draught. The protagonist swam sluggishly to the awareness that they were slumped on the cold ground, feet bound together and hands tied tightly to the tent pole. No mystery whose tent it was.

"Back with us at last?" The antagonist's voice seemed to float in the heady, hazy atmosphere. "You were out a long time."

"'S'it smokey in here?" the protagonist groaned. "Or izzat the drugs and the, mm, concussion?"

There was a dry hmph. The protagonist's vision was clearing slowly, and they could just see a lean streak of black standing over them, dark against the gleaming reds and golds of the imperial tent. The antagonist. Their old childhood friend and their new crown prince - thanks to the protagonist's removal of the prior occupant from that position. And from the earth.

The protagonist carefully rolled their neck, loosening the muscles and grounding themselves. The tent was not spinning. Their heart was not pounding. Their friend was not their friend. Not anymore. "Is the part where I'm oh-so-grateful you've placed me in your personal custody?" the protagonist drawled. "For my own protection, I'm sure - "

There was a flash of dark and the crack of a palm across the protagonist's face. Again. They swallowed and breathed through the new pain.

"You're getting good at that, your highness," they said, and spit out red flecked saliva on the carpet. "But may I suggest, for next time, a backhand? With a couple big rings, you can really do some damage-"

The antagonist made a strangled scream. "Stop telling me what to do!" they yelled. "Gods! I used to wonder what would make you shut up. Now I know: literally nothing short of death."

They flopped into a chair, and glared at the protagonist. The protagonist could see their face more or less clearly now, making the expression they always did when they wanted to look cold and foreboding and definitely not scared shitless. Despite the wardrobe, it was a shock how little the antagonist had changed when everything was so different.

"What am I supposed to do with you, [protagonist]?" said the spare-turned-heir miserably.

The protagonist shrugged. Their throat burned with thirst, their shoulders screamed with ache. They pushed it away. Never show weakness. The antagonist had taught them that. "Take me to your father to stand trial for treason, revolt, etcetera. How is the old man these days?"

The antagonist propped their chin on their fist, twisted their mouth. "Not great," they drawled back with vicious understatement. "Better than my lady mother, though. She hasn't left her bed since you had my brother assassinated."

The protagonist flinched. It was a bad habit, a weakness. Of course the antagonist recognized it and twisted the knife. "She took you in," they said, sliding out of their chair to loom over the protagonist. "You were starving in the gutter and she took you into our household, gave you a royal education, treated you like her own child-"

"Her child? Your mother took me in to be your pet," the protagonist spat. "Your own personal peasant for you and your brother to practice ruling on. I guess she thought you were too big for a puppy."

"I- what?!" the antagonist sputtered. For a moment they were genuinely struck dumb. "No! You say what you want about the rest of us, but my mother-"

"She saw which way the wind was blowing with your brother," the protagonist said, rolling their shoulders and subtly testing their bonds. "Maybe she thought putting a face on the faceless masses could turn him around."

"Too bad she picked you then," the antagonist snapped.

The protagonist smiled sourly and the antagonist bit their lip and flushed, realizing they'd conceded the point.

"The irony hasn't escaped me," the protagonist said, hitching themselves up a little higher. "If all of this, all the blood and death as you put, if all I accomplished was removing your brother from the line of succession, I'll have done the empire and your family a greater service than your mother ever dreamed-"

"She thinks I put you up to it," the antagonist blurted out. The protagonist's mouth opened, and then shut again. The antagonist dropped down into their camp chair, somehow making despair look regal and elegant. "The rebellion, the overthrow of the Southern lords, the disruption of the sea trade, my..." They swallowed, reached for another bottle of wine on an overladen table. "The former crown prince's death. Then you just... walk straight into an ambush a day from my camp. She hasn't said, but her letters are... She thinks I..." They made a face, yanked the cork loose. "Father thinks the same, but he actually has more respect for me now," the antagonist added bitterly. "He wasn't so blind to my brother's faults as he pretended to be."

The protagonist let out a low whistle across their split lip. "Well. Now you definitely can't give me a merciful death."

The antagonist put the bottle of wine back down with a shaking hand. "Did you?" they whispered, so quiet the protagonist had to lean forward.

"Did I what?" they asked.

The antagonist started down at their hand pressed flat on the folding table. "Did you do this for me?" they said under their breath.

The protagonist rocked back, hard enough to thunk their head against the pole. They barely felt it, overwhelmed as the antagonist handed themselves over, heart and soul. "Oh, my," the protagonist breathed out. "Oh, your highness. Is that why I'm in your tent? You want me to pat you on the head before you hand me off to be tortured to death and tell you not to worry, that you're one of the good ones?"

"Stop it. Stop talking," the antagonist hissed, face going an angry, ugly red. "I should have known you weren't capable of any loyalty at all."

"Do you remember when your brother beat that housemaid to death?" the protagonist asked, settling themselves more comfortably.

"That was an accident," the antagonist said automatically.

The protagonist shrugged. "Fine then. You remember when your brother accidentally hit a housemaid hard enough that she smashed her skull open on the nursery fireplace? For what, for being nice to us? For slipping us sweeties after he had me whipped again?"

"Stop it, I'm sorry I asked!" the antagonist yelled.

"And I sobbed and sobbed and you comforted me, you remember what you said?"

It was the antagonist's turn to flinch. "Damn you, I was a child. I didn't know better!"

But the protagonist wasn't going to stop. They couldn't now. "You held me in your arms and you said, 'Don't cry. She was only a housemaid. We have more.' Over and over. I still hear that in my sleep."

"So that's it?" The antagonist wrapped their arms around themselves, turned away. "I was a scared, fucked-up nine-year-old who said a bad thing so now none of the rest of it matters? I'm going to die with everyone else?"

"Die?" The protagonist cocked their head and sneered. Their heart was not pounding in their chest, the room was not spinning, their friend was not their friend. "I'm your prisoner. You're taking me to the capitol, to your father for trial."

"Bullshit." The antagonist turned pleading eyes down on the protagonist, bound and bloody. "What are you planning? Why do you want me to bring you to my father? What are you going to do to us?"

The protagonist breathed in and out, reached within themselves for the stone walls the antagonist had taught them to build, oh so many years ago.

"I'm doing what I was taught," they said evenly. "By your mother, your brother, by your father, by you. To serve my empire, even unto death. Difference is, I draw a distinction between the empire and the fucked-up, inbred family that for some reason thinks they were sent by the gods to rule everyone else."

In the silence that followed, the protagonist could hear the distant shouts of the commanders, the jingle of horse bridles and the sounds of hammers and waxed linens flapping to the ground. They were breaking camp. Thirteen days to the capitol.

"All right then," the antagonist said softly, face bloodless against the stark black of their jacket. They put down their untouched wine cup and turned away, never meeting the protagonist's eyes. "Let's play this out. Can't wait to see your endgame."

They walked out and the protagonist sagged limp against the tentpole. Thirteen days. They could stay alive that long. They just weren't sure they could stay unbreakable when they felt so very, very close to breaking.

#my fiction #heroes and villains #heroxvillain #rebel x royal #hero x villain #royals #friends to enemies #protagonist said no divine right of kings #100

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serpenteve · 3 years

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I'm having the horrible realization that Aleksander never actually did any serious wooing of Alina in the books. It's all just Alina her self being horny attracted to him. But this is supposedly???? His grand scheme???? Of manipulation???? Implications! It seems like the girls in these books wasn't the only one slut shamed. I'm- ☠

Leigh wrote a man sexy and captivating and said "it's his fault, actually, that Alina got a crush on him. He shouldn't of.... uh.." Flips through papers. "Ah, had such pretty eyes."

Okay! 👀Yes, we are finally doing this!

I'm flipping through my copy of Shadow & Bone and noting down all the interactions between the Darkling and Alina which I've put in chronological order beneath the cut.

First of all, the Darkling and Alina are only alone together in about a handful of scenes. Most of the time, the are surrounded by other Grisha or Baghra or are in a public place. A lot of the Darkling's actions and words are clouded by Alina's own insecurities. She constantly voices how she feels like she's not good enough, not pretty enough, not strong enough and he takes it in stride and gently encourages and placates her. There are a few lies he does tell her (that the Black Heretic was his ancestor, that he wants to destroy the Fold, and he doesn't know what Baghra's power is, etc) but if we extrapolate the trajectory of her ill-fated romance arc, I think even book!Darkling would have told Alina about his real plans if she seemed like she'd accept them.

A lot of speculation has been made about the Darkling's seduction of Alina and honestly???? Aleksander literally just exists and Alina is thirsting for him because she's desperately looking for validation and re-assurance. I initially head-canoned his first kiss by the lake as being pure calculation and the kiss at the Winter Fete being 100% accidental (because Dark Lord Sasha played himself lmao) but on this re-read, I don't even know anymore. He already came close to almost kissing her after they have a tender moment, catches himself and then immediately leaves before he can catch feelings. Then when they share another tender moment at the lake, he kisses her and then is surprised by it and before he can really process it, Ivan comes by to cockblock.

Like, even Leigh (as much as she has shit on this ship) said at one point that the Darkling has strong feelings for Alina, even if he may not necessarily quantify them as love. So looking back, I don't read anything the Darkling did as manipulative seduction. He obviously lied about some stuff and wasn't transparent about his real plans for the Fold, but as a military commander who sees Alina as an opportunity for a coup, it makes sense that he'd play that a little close to the chest---especially when Alina has proved to be wary of his powers and has a very black-and-white sense of morality. If anything, this is less "the Darkling seduced Alina to manipulate her into being used!!11" and more "local dark lord tried to encourage his protege and accidentally caught feelings and it was a mASSIVE FUCKING INCONVENIENCE TO HIS EVIL PLANS"

But you know who does slut-shame Alina a lot? Baghra. Seriously, Baghra makes Alina feel like shit for her crush on the Darkling numerous times. She has all these lines:

"You want to be [his pet]...Don’t bother lying to me. You’re like all the rest. I saw the way you looked at him."

"Dreaming of dancing with your dark prince?"

"Foolish girl." (After Alina shamefully admits the Darkling might come to her that night)

At one point Baghra creeps on Alina and the Darkling's interactions and even though literally nothing happens between them and when the Darkling leaves, Alina catches Baghra giving her a snooty look. ("For no reason at all, I blushed")

She is determined to shame Alina for her feelings and make her feel like a lovesick idiot for daring to crush on him and this is in addition to all the slut-shaming Mal does. The narrative revealing the Darkling is the bad guy all along while leaving Alina no compelling arc to discover this on her own feels very much like Leigh hitting us all with Baghra's stick, like "Foolish girls! You thought he cared about Alina just because he has a sexy jawline??? HAHA HE LIED YOU SLUTS"

Scenes with Alina and the Darkling in Book 1

Their first scene together is in the Grisha tent. Based on Alina's description of him, she already thinks he's hot as barely any other character in this godforsaken series gets so many descriptions of their grey/smoke/slate/quartz eyes as Aleksander does 😏

The next time they're together he saves her life. Alina is traumatized from seeing a man sliced in half and the Darkling instructs her to keep her eyes on him instead. She is disturbed that he killed the person about to murder her and this aversion seems incredibly contrived and arbitrary on behalf of the author. It's almost like she wants Alina to be vindicated and shamed for not trusting her initial bigotry against him or something 🤔The Darkling admits even he can make mistakes and then he touches the back of Alina's neck (with some secret Heartrender/Healer abilities?) and she falls asleep riding on his horse.

They spend the next few days traveling. Alina notes that the Darkling hasn't spoken to her (probably because he's focused on getting her to the Little Palace without any more assassination attempts) but Alina is a paranoid she's offended him somehow. Again, this is just Alina's insecurity painting a narrative that simply doesn't exist based on what actually happened so far.

They exchange a few words by the stream and Alina fishes for pity points by saying she's ugly and can't possibly be Grisha. Aleksander appears 100% done with her stupidity and says she doesn't understand but he's not in the mood to explain at the moment and walks off ☠️

Alina joins the Darkling and his men for a meal. She notes that the grouse they've killed is meager shared meal but that the Darkling doesn't want to put his men in danger by sending them out to hunt in the forest at night 😌He also sits on the floor to eat like they do and he doesn't take more than the regular portion than they do 😌. Sorry, how is this man the most ~evil~ wizard on the planet? He is obviously a good and fair commander and beloved by the Grisha.

Alina has been checking Aleksander out the entire time so when he catches her, he walks over to talk. He fishes around for information on what Alina has heard about him. He seems sad when Alina mentions she has heard that Darklings are born without souls, though not surprised. He then spins the story about the Black Heretic being his ancestor and how the Fold was a mistake and how every Darkling since then has tried to undo it and how Alina is "the first glimmer of hope" he's had in a long time.

Because Alina is still on that "Grisha are unnatural monsters" agenda, she asks him about the Cut and he explains it but she's still distrubed. He asks her if it would have been better if he used a sword and she replies: "I don't know". The Darkling gets offended and leaves. Alina tries to convince herself she can't have possibly hurt his feelings (because Darklings don't have souls or feelings?) and then feels paranoid that she's failed some secret test. Yeah, the test you failed is called "empathy", Alina 🙄

Two days later, they arrive at Os Alta. Aleksander roasts the Grand Palace as the ugliest effing building he's ever seen. He leaves immediately after dumping Alina at the Little Palace and Alina actually seethes that he isn't paying more attention to her? I understand that it's overwhelming to go to a brand new place, but Alina expecting him to constantly hold her hand and explain everything to her after she basically insulted him is a bit strange.

The next time Alina sees the Darkling, they are scheduled to appear before the King and Queen. The demonstration is a surprise for Alina and Aleksander's lack of transparency of what's expected of her means she's forced to rely on him and trust his instincts. This might be his underhanded way of getting Alina to see that she can trust him; that he will not make her look like a failure or humiliate her; that they are in this together and it will only work if she trusts him.

After the demonstration, Genya and the Darkling trash the monarchy for a bit (Alina is horrified) and then the Darkling orders Genya to get a black kefta for Alina, to which Alina infamously wants a blue one. The Darkling doesn't really put up much of a fight, merely wanting to know why. Alina decides he doesn't approve of her choosing blue and wonders to Genya if he's angry.

After Alina's first day, the Darkling calls her to his quarters to ask her how her day was. Alina is surprised that this is all he wanted to know because she was paranoid he was going to torture her??? She says: "Why shouldn't I be afraid of you?...You can cut people in half. I think it's fair to be a little intimidated." If the Darkling is offended or angry about this, he doesn't show it and merely indulges her. He notes that she has a habit of running her hand across a scar on her palm and asks her about it, tracing the scar himself. Alina gets distracted by his touch but manages to answer his questions: she got the scar at Keramzin, Mal is also an orphan, he is good at tracking. He shows her a secret passage back to her rooms to avoid the main hall.

Alina starts her training and at one point laments that the Darkling is rarely at the Little Palace and when he is, he never speaks to her or barely looks her way and she is convinced it's because she's a failure and can't summon light on her own. It could also be because, you know, he's the commander of the Second Army and is usually seen in talks with other military advisors and the fact that Alina kinda lowkey insulted him with her wariness about his powers???

The next time they are together, Alina interrupts him and Baghra arguing. He politely asks her how she is. Baghra antagonizes her. The Darkling defends her. They talk about amplifiers and because Baghra is being a snarky little shit about it, they take their conversation outside.

Aleksander complains about how annoying his mom is and then asks Alina what stories she's heard about Morozova's herd. At one point he laughs for the first time and Alina practically creams her pants at the sound. Alina expresses her concerns that she can't summon any light and the Darkling says he's not worried and it will happen when it happens and worse case scenario, it will happen once she has the stag. They have a quiet intimate moment, gazing softly into each other's eyes and then suddenly Aleksander realizes he's catching feelings and steps back suddenly like "GoodLuckWithYourLessonsOKayBYE". Baghra watches this interaction from her hut and gives Alina a slut-shaming look.

Alina eventually does learn to summon light on her own. Baghra gives her grief about how it's not enough. The Darkling shows up during one of these lessons and says as much. Alina says she's useless. The Darkling corrects her (“I don't think you're useless, Alina....No Grisha is powerful enough to face the Fold. Not even me”) and then he apologizes for letting her down ("I've asked you to trust me and I haven't delivered"). He wonders if his mother is right and he's crazy to hunt the stag. They have a nice bonding moment, Aleksander lies about Baghra's power, and then he asks if Alina would think him crazy for still wanting to find the stag. She asks why he cares what she thinks, he seems genuinely surprised himself that he cares. Then he kisses her. He seems not to have meant to kiss her because then Ivan shows up for his 5 o'clock shift of cockblocking and the Darkling immediately pretends like nothing happened and walks away with him. Like dude is acting like a fucking dork who's allergic to feelings at this point. I should note here that Alina practically has an orgasm from how giddy she is about this moment. She can barely think of anything else.

The next time they're together, it's at the Winter Fete. They do their demonstration and Alina accidentally reveals her insecurities about how he had kissed her and then disappeared. He responds, "Did you really think I was done with you?" and then they enjoy some steamy kisses and thigh grabbing in an empty room before a random round of Grisha show up for their 6 o'clock shift of cockblocking. Aleksander is annoyed at his own attraction to Alina. He asks if he can come to her that night but Alina doesn't get a chance to respond.

and then the Darklina romance arc falls off a giant cliff and dies a terrible death 😭😭😭

#viv answers #god this ended up being so long WOW #i had a lot of feelings i guess #cw: purity culture #sab meta #grisha discourse #darklina #viv metas

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mrs-bartowski · 3 years

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My dudes. My guys. My pals.

I’m about 10 seconds away from going feral.

So, I’m the kind of unfortunate chump whose brain requires continuity. Meaning, when I started thirst watching Supergirl during its mid-season-2 hiatus and came across the realization that it had crossovers with all the other arrowverse shows, my brain tasked me with watching them all. I won’t put you through a recount of this arduous feat, but it does leave me with the certain advantage of having immediate and full-contextual access to any parallels between supercorp and canon CW DCEU couples.

Normally, this is a good thing, because it’s just another crumb to obsess over. But I just finished watching Legends 6x02 and...I. AM. FUMING.

I literally don’t even know where to start, but know that if you’ve made it this far you’re in for a long ride because my entire being is in Scream mode right now and I’m not sure I’ll be able to stop typing until it passes.

OKAY. So.

Meet Sara Lance (lol jk y’all thirsty gays know who she is I mean look at this flawless human)

Next, meet her ******* Ava Sharpe (who is literally the definition of white European beauty standards-based perfection because she’s a clone from the future)

And finally, meet Gary Green. He’s...well, he’s Gary.

Sara started out on Arrow and is now the captain of the Legends. Ava was the director of the Time Bureau and Gary was an agent, and now they are also members of the Legends. Sara has been there (and been the show’s effective lead) since season 1. Ava and Gary both came in at the beginning of season 3.

Gary is (as pictured) an absolute fool, but he is also kind of regarded as the one the Legends Must Protecc. The whole team is considered a family, and, while they are not necessarily labeled as best friends, Gary has been Ava’s longest and most loyal companion, and Sara has a way of adopting him because she’s the best equipped to keep him out of trouble.

So, why is all of this relevant to why I want to go feral? Because it sounds a bit familiar, yes? Member of the team that is somewhat a black sheep, doesn’t get included fully or all the time but often comes in with save-the day type shit (even though with Gary it’s more of a distraction than a save because he’s a mess of a man). Close friend to one of our two main heroes and, subsequently, that hero’s closest companion puts them at the top of their Protecc list. Has little faith in his relationships with the team so he is constantly going out of his way to help in whatever way he can to prove his usefulness. And so on and so forth.

Well, 6x01 marks exactly 3 years since Gary’s first appearance, and what did we find out in that episode? That Gary is an alien. And not just any alien - an alien who was sent (by the woman he was traded to) to get close to Sara because she has been labeled as one of the world’s most dangerous creatures. Not to mention, his species of alien feeds on humans (not him of course, he’s reformed, but nonetheless not a friendly species). And we find out all of this because he and his master abduct her.

Sara finds out in person while Ava and the rest of the Legends solve the mystery on their own. Now, I’ve drawn a lot of comparisons between Lena and Gary to make a point about the time frame and nature of their relationships, but let’s take a look at Sara, shall we? For starters, she’s been “dead” either literally or supposedly about...what, 15 times now? If you think that’s an exaggeration, here’s the link to her fan wiki which says she’s been presumed dead 10 times and actually dead 5. The sg writers tried to sell season 5 as “the fight for Lena’s soul” but Sara LITERALLY LOST HER SOUL when she got resurrected in the Lazarus pit. 90% of Sara’s character development has been based on her certainty that she is too close to death and evil and destruction (getting possessed by a demon, perhaps, had something to do with this?). She was an actual literal assassin and she has left civilization out of anger and pain to go back to that life once before.

She has always believed that she is too dangerous to have real love or relationships or friends. And now she has found and built and led this family through time and space and she’s done so with this goofball by her side that is endearingly attached to the love of her life. So, how does she react when she finds out Gary is an alien? Well, clearly, she goes down a dark path, right? She cries and screams and talks about betrayal because she’s had such a hard time with feeling like she only ever puts the people she loves in danger and now here she is finding out there’s been a human-eating alien in her family for three years that was tasked with observing her and keeping her in check because she is exactly that dangerous?

Yeah...try again. This is how Sara reacts:

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And then there's another scene that apparently no one even bothered to put on YouTube where you can see the pain in Sara's eyes when she asks him “why me?” You can see how hurt she is that after 3 years she’s just finding out that their friendships is based on lies and that she has trouble keeping her faith in it. But in both of these instances where are the “crocodile tears?” Where are the fearful, shaky confessions from Gary about his fear of losing the only people who have ever really loved or cared about him and desperate justifications about how he just wanted to protect them and keep them in the dark so his master didn’t come after them? Where is the outrage from Sara about how everything Gary has reassured her about over the past three years when she was scared to let the damaged-soul assassin inside of her out was a lie and he doesn’t get to tell her who or what she is again? Where is the determination from Ava to make Gary pay for not only lying for three years but for ABDUCTING THE LOVE OF HER LIFE TO HAND OVER TO A FLESH-EATING ALIEN??????

Nowhere. Those things...they’re nowhere. There’s anger. There’s pain. There’s doubt and heartbreak and fury. There’s betrayal and helplessness and desperation. But there is no scene with Sara standing on a balcony and Gary looking up at her longingly because he wants to talk to her about the secret and he knows it will change everything between them. There is no scene with Sara and Ava lamenting over what this means for Gary and the team and the world because he’s no longer the person they knew. There are no romantically-scored scenes of them looking teary-eyed at the pictures they took together or reassurances that the others’ intentions are good and trustworthy now that the truth is out in the open. There is nothing to imply that the last several years of friendship are now entirely suspect (damaged, frayed, clouded, maybe, but definitely not voided) because Gary kept this secret to protect them. And Gary isn’t made to feel obscenely guilty or shameful because his intentions were good and he only did what he felt he had to. But most of all, the world doesn’t feel like it’s going to end.

And I’m not talking about we’re now scared Gary will take his master’s side or Sara will suddenly decide that she never wants an alien to fool her or hurt her again so she’s going to make sure he doesn’t have the choice. I’m just talking about the way they address each other. There are no sobbing tears or laments over the biggest mistakes of their lives - even though it’s quite possible Gary could see this as his. There are no screaming matches over betrayal and mistrust and years of doubt and confusion. There will be no episode dedicated to going back and seeing what could have happened - what kind of danger they could have avoided from the alien(s) controlling Gary - had he told them the truth sooner because that’s the only way to save him and the world. There will be no episode where he has to single-handedly save them multiple times as some example of redemption. There will be no adamant looks and declarations about how the team knows his intentions were good and they forgive him. There won’t be any of that. Because Sara is not in love with Gary. And Ava is not in love with Gary. And Gary is not in love with either Sara or Ava. They’re just close friends. Family. Loved ones who mean a lot to each other but whose betrayal and seeds of doubt don’t bring on emotions whose force and ferocity could be acceptable for finding out the apocalypse is nigh.

I have many, many more feelings about this but right now I’m going to go write things that will make me feel better and not things that make me want to gather every writer from every CW show in a line and run down the line smacking them all in the face while the Legends writers watch and cheer. But I’m fuming. THIS is what it looks like when a years-long, heavily weighted lie is revealed between close friends/family. So, in conclusion, Supercorp endgame or die.

#supercorp #supercorp endgame #cw supergirl #supergirl #the cw #the cw network #legends of tomorrow #avalance #gary green #ava sharpe #sara lance #kara danvers #lena luthor #legends of tomorrow spoilers #Youtube

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shysneeze · 3 years

Text

Colour Me Surprised | George Weasley x F!Reader

Description : the reader and George are perfect for one another, which complicates things when fates is telling them otherwise

soulmate au in which you only see colour when you meet your soulmate - from this request

Warnings: kinda angsty, arguments (if I’ve missed anything please tell me so I can add it)

Taglist:

general taglist: @accioweaslcy

george taglist: @amourtentiaa , @omghufflepuff , @daisyyy2516 , @i-padfootblack-things , @imtooanonymousforyou

(this is the form for anyone wanting to join :))

“Leave me alone, George!”

The intensity of (Y/N)’s voice sends several younger pupils scattering from the common room before the door has even swung shut behind her and a second voice joins her, just as full of the same sharp anger.

Stumbling in behind her, George reaches for her, fingers curling around her wrist before she can storm up to her dorm. (Y/N) pulls from his grasp with a huffed breath, though his touch has left that warm buzz on her skin as it’s prone to do.

“Please,” He pants, “Let me talk-“

“No, George,” She seethes, “What are you going to say that can justify setting off a portable swamp underneath my date's chair!?”

He grimaces.

“It was only a small one?”

“George!”

Even as the remaining pupils scatter from the common room, no one can blame them. It’s cruel in a way really, that the world should throw together two people so perfect for one another, and allow fate to tell them otherwise.

Although, perhaps the whole theory of soulmates is cruel by itself.

It’s fine when you’re a child, when seeing the world in shades of black and white is normal. When you’re so young, colour is just one of the unsolved mysteries brought by youth, like where the moon goes in the morning or why the clouds seem to be in such a hurry to pass us by.

It’s growing older that brings that itch, that thirst for colour, the desire to know the different shades of the sky and the pigments of petals so warmly spoken of in stories.

Colour comes with soulmates, it’s the rule of life… but life has never been rumoured to be fair.

While a large portion of wizards and witches meet their soulmates when they start Hogwarts, and upon doing so are thrown into a world colour, no longer strangers to the warm oranges of sunshine and the cool greens of the leaves on the trees, many aren’t quite so lucky.

It can take years, lifetimes for the truly unlucky, to meet, the person the universe has tied your soul to, the perfect match, the missing piece of an incomplete heart. It’s what anyone might look at George Weasley and (Y/N) (Y/L/N) and see… a perfect pair.

In fact it was Fred who first believed so. So excited to introduce them back in third year, so convinced by ‘twin’s instinct’ of their destiny for one another that he practically dragged George to her, only to be sorely disappointed when their faces never brightened with the joy of seeing colour for the first time.

It’s left them with only friendship, one strained by the desire for more. Years of getting to know each other, of the quirks and habits so perfect for one another’s, has only added to the frustration of being destined for other people.

“It was an accident!”

He falters under her warning gaze.

“Well, kind of- I was planning to prank him anyway.” He admits, “ I’m very sorry it interfered with your date.”

She wishes he were lying, it might make it easier to be this angry at him for it. Though from years of friendship, of wishing for more, she’s able to pick out every edge to his voice and there's no lift in his tone where there would be with a lie.

“I mean I did help you dodge a bullet.”

Like that, the anger is again justified.

“Oh come on, everyone knows about Liam, (Y/N),” He argues, “He’s a player and you deserve better.”

“That’s my decision to make!”

He falters, nodding reluctantly.

“I know and I’m sorry but-“ He sighs, “He’s not your soulmate.”

Neither are you

It sits there on her tongue like fire, held back as not to burn him, and most likely, herself, with its truth.

“I know that,” (Y/N) spits weakly, her resolve to be angry crumbling with the newly returned pain in her chest, longing she assumes. “That doesn’t mean I can’t date. Who knows when I’ll meet my soulmate? Is it so bad to want to be loved in the meantime?”

You are.

It’s written all over his face and her heart twists with it. Every fibre of her being wants to love him, in fact she’s already sure she does, but to be with him now will only hurt more when, inevitably, he leaves for somebody else, the person who brings colours to his eyes.

“Don’t say it.”

It comes out pleading, her eyes scrunched and lips beginning to wobble in the anticipation of tears. Eyes shut though, she can still hear the way his breath hitches.

“Clearly you already know.”

One last spark of anger ignites in her chest, though as the words tumble out she’s not sure it’s at him as much as it is at fate, whatever cruel, twisted thing put him in her life, taunting her with something that can never be hers.

“I know!” She seethes, eyes opening only to frown, “Everything tells me it’s you. Every bit of me wants it to be you and yet every time i look at you all I see is grey and it hurts!”

When she meets his gaze, her tight knit frown is mimicked with the same frustration as her own.

But his eyes.

His eyes aren’t the same as she’s always seen them, bursting with a colour she doesn’t know, but warm, like the feeling of the sun on her skin on a late summer afternoon and they’re glittered by speckles of something else that she craves the name of.

His hair is bright and vibrant and just a shade darker than the millions of freckles that dot his cheeks, that hide in his dimples and the crease between his brow that is slowly easing in surprise.

“You’re beautiful...”

Something warm floods his pale cheeks and he hears her breath hitch at the sight. She’s not sure how she’s lived her whole life deprived of something as wonderful as this.

“We’re soulmates.”

“Colour me surprised.”

A second passes for him to grow sheepish under her disapproving gaze.

“Too soon?”

“Yep.”

“I knew it,” He says quietly, as if saying then any louder will take away their truth and fling them back into the dull world they were in only moments ago. “I just knew it,”

Yet she can’t find the same joy he has, held back only by the question of why, why now of all times? This isn’t their first meeting, this isn’t how it works.

“I can practically hear your brain working on overdrive.”

“I don’t understand,” She begins to frown again, “I’ve known you for so long- soulmates are supposed to see colour the first time they meet and we- we met years ago.”

“I know.”

“I guess you hear of g-glitches sometimes...” (Y/N) begins to ramble, finger pulling nervously at her sleeves, “It’s rare but-“

“It doesn’t matter,” George blurts softly, warm hand pulling her own from her sleeves and clasping it reassuringly, “We’re soulmates, (Y/N).”

“We are,”

The strange knot that has been tying itself in her chest with worry begins to come loose, eyes finding his again, those little specks of colour swimming in warmth. Then, his hair, his beautiful bright hair.

“Are you going to stop staring at my hair long enough to let me kiss you?”

“I don’t know, George,” Her lips twitched into a teasing smile, “It’s so bright-“

The rest of her sentence lodges itself in her throat with his face suddenly inches from her own. His breath tingles her lips and she feels herself gulping.

“I’m sure I can admire it more later...”

His lips meet hers with that same buzz left by his touch and she finds herself wondering momentarily if it’s a soulmate thing, though kissing him soon replaces all other thoughts.

It’s perfect, and somehow having missed out on this is worse than ever having missed out on colours. In fact, she’s sure she’d sooner give up colour all over again for the promise of getting to kiss him.

As he pulls back though with his cheeks awash with that bright blush, warm where her fingers have lifted to cup his cheeks subconsciously as they kissed, she’s glad she doesn’t have to.

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