#'imagine dying scared and in pain and having that be the only part of you which survives... i wouldnt like that at all' | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

evilminji · 22 days

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Okay, so maybe it's just me? Projecting my new Tea Phase?

Cause for med reasons, no more energy drinks, only Teeeeeeaaaaa~☆

But honestly? Now that I am an adult and ACTUALLY KNOW HOW TO MAKE IT? Really digging it! Am enjoying the Teas. Mmmmmmm~ leaf broth. I like the fruity ones.

So! IMAGINE~☆ If you will:

Danny. 14 and his parents are LOUD AS FUCK (CRASH BANG SMASH BANG WHIIII-) dispite it being, once again, a school night. This has been going one For Years. That STUPID fucking machine. All God damned hours. Crashes and bangs and powertools. Explosions.

When will it ever end!

He's... he's honestly used it.

Unknowingly? This is is a skill that will come in handy later. Living and functioning while sleep deprived. Healthy? Fuck no. But it's USEFUL. He IS the ten year old downing Monster drinks in the parking lot before school.

It makes him a jittery weirdo. Twitchy. Too much caffeine, not enough sleep, his parents either blew up or TOOK APART the washing machine AGAIN. He... he never stood a chance. It's a miracle the indoor plumbing hasn't been compromised yet... AGAIN.

His blood is more sugar, caffeine, and guarana or whatever those other things in the can are, then actual human blood. He doesn't CARE. He just needs too get decent grades, graduate, and become an astronaut. It's... it's FINE. This is normal. They're FINE.

(If they weren't... someone would have noticed, right? Would have DONE something. Cared. So it HAS to be fine. His family's just weird. It's FINE.)

But THEN...

The Accident.

And his biology CHANGES. Green goo, wrapped vicious and loving, around his very DNA. Like Kintsugi of the body and soul. In green, Green, GREEN. It... it's a lot. Everything changing all at once. Maybe that's why it takes him so long to notice.

Why he thinks "oh, I'm just tired cause I'm running more then usual. Fighting and flying. Doing ghost stuff."

When... when honestly? Some part of him always kinda KNEW. From the very moment he stumbled out of the portal. The aftershocks. The pain. Sam and Tucker crying, scrambling to help him up the stairs. Sam tearing her bag apart looking for her cramps medicine. Because... because pain medication is pain medication.

"It's gonna be okay, Danny. Please. Please god, just take it! I promise it's gonna be okay!"

How do you look your panicked, crying, strongest-person-you-know best friend in the eyes and tell her... you can FEEL it dissolving in your throat. Like the pills were dumped in a human shaped pot of acid. That... that the pain isn't changing... and you... you don't think it's going too.

When you're scared. Might be dying. And you can already tell they think it's their fault. W... when you're all just KIDS. And all you can think is... you can let them know how bad... how bad it hurts...

They'd never be able to live with that knowledge.

Yeah. Yeah, Sam. Thanks. T... The pills helped a lot. He feels better. You really saved the day. He lo... loves you guys so much.

...

.....

He thinks about that moment A LOT. About how much he realized and knew, before the denial kicked in. Before he got so... Tired. Fresh of all that energy. And? You'd think he realize. The mood swings. The irritability. The headaches that disappear the SECOND he goes ghost. That he's in caffeine withdrawal. But? Nope.

He kinda blames the constant ghost attacks for distracting him.

But see... Sam? Doesn't drink tea. Goes against her diet. Tucker was where he GOT his illicit borderline illegal energy drinks. And his sister? Big on flavored sparkling waters. Which are gross to him.

His PARENTS drink a thick tar they insist is coffee. It might be liquid fudge. Zone knows its nearly the same consistency. It's horrifying. No thanks, he wants to LIVE.

It's? Ironically? Mr. Lancer and his constant detentions, that help Danny realize somethings up. Because Mr. Lancer shares. If he makes a cup for himself, he'll make one for you. It's how he was raised. And, yeah, the after school detentions? Those were herbal blends. No caffeine.

But...

But they tasted nice. Were warm. The classroom was quiet and as frustrating as it was? The tea itself? Was always... the one exception to how shit the situation was. So Danny finally broke down and asked about it. Learned Mr. Lancer knew a? Surprisingly LOT about tea. Huh.

Then one day he gets SATURDAY detention. Oh joy!

Bright and early. One of the few times he could be trying, desperately, to be sleeping through his parents cacophony. Catching up on his desperately needed Zzz's. Here he is... getting a handed a new cup of different tea?

Breakfast blend? And a bagel..

N...none hostile breakfast? A quiet space to catch up on his homework? No Dash? Just... just a quiet classroom, some tea, and the sounds on a peaceful morning outside?

......oh.

It's the best time he's had in school in... God, in YEARS. He gets so MUCH done. For once can concentrate. And? Actually, now that he thinks about it? Feels... awake? Or at the very least, not as sleepy. And being a Fenton, whom to the LAST are a genius if eccentric family, it's pretty damn easy to put two and two together.

Tea.

He felt more awake after having Lancer's breakfast blend tea.

He obviously asks about it. Then, after detention is done. Calm packs up. Goes home. Drops his back in his room. Goes ghost. And SHOOTS for the Far Frozen with his phone and an energy drink. Because clearly he's missing something and it's time to ask.

The good doctors of the Frozen are... gently horrified. Clawed hands steeples infront of their mouths as they try to tactfully figure out how to word "Great One, WHAT THE FUCK!?!? Why would you DO THIS TO YOURSELF!?" Because that... is not professional. Breathe. In, out, in, out. We can do this.

They get the most patient and restrained of their elders to... CALMLY, very VERY Calmly, ask some medical questions. Listen. Without judgements! Because they are medical professionals. Who do NOT want to scream, forever, into the void. Certainly not. So Calm! (They are going to BURN THAT CAN IN-)

Which! Huh. Yeah, that explains the constant exhaustion. He was poisoning himself. Kinda. Not so much the GHOST but the human half. Putting to much strain and too much trace chemicals, minerals, and buckets of sugar. General "mmmm :/ Don't Like THAT ™" energy from the Goo causing it too try and constantly burning it all out of existence. Endlessly.

The more he put in, the more there was to burn. The more there was to burn, the more tired he became. The more tired he became... well, the more he put in. It was a slowly lethal starvation cycle. Big Yikes.

The TEA on the other hand? Those are leaves. The good recognizes leaves and water. Other various plants, dried or otherwise. It ignores them as "fine" until they reach a "problematic" threshold, apparently? So... *blank look at the doctor*

*sighs in medical professional*

Tea? Good. Satan Can of Halfa Poison? Bad. Please drink tea.

👍🏻👍🏻👍🏻

And it's like MAGIC. He's suddenly BACK, baby! Ha ha ha! Skulker you fuckin THOUGHT?! Oh it's 2am? Well SUPRISE bitch! He's bright eyed and bushy tailed! His grades are up AND he's beating you like a drum! He has ice breakers for old people discussions now!! The local Tea Shops have NEVER been so well protected.

He actually manages to graduate with not just decent grades? But GOOD ones.

And the second. The INSTANT. He is legally his own man? Has his important paperwork squirrelled away and the go bags safely WELL outside of Amity. It's time. He meets OUTSIDE the house, because he's not an idiot. He's been practicing his Clones and has them ready to grab his parents so he can get out of there alive. Jazz is on video call from Star city.

His parents... suspected. Not at first, but as goofy as they are? They aren't ACTUALLY idiots. They've been watching, going over old research. Trying, failing, to get in touch with the League to have THEIR team test their research. Peer review is critical after all. They... they had been so certain. Are still somewhat certain.

But their research doesn't exactly ACCOUNT for this "halfa" phenomenon. So, there is a very real chance they are missing something. The one thing the DO know? Danny is their son. Stuck in some eternal mortally wounded state or not, he is a hero. And they weren't there for him.

They can't change their beliefs on a dime. But they've clearly missed a great deal. And refuse to fall to academic bias. The very thing that got them LAUGHED AT for decades. Mocked and belittled. This is their life's work. By God they WILL find out the truth.

It's? Better then he could have hoped. Not perfect. But better.

He helps set up safeties and a security check point at the portal. Both sides. He's kinda a big deal these days, mom, dad. Ghost scientists eager to work with them. A whole TEAM under their command. It certain endears ghosts to them a whole lot more. Then?

Copy of the blue prints, go bag turned into normal bags, Danny's off to college.

Bounces from major to major. Nothing really capturing his interest. As he aged, he's need less sleep. Gotten stronger. Grown into his father's height and grandfathers build. Tucker keeps calling him a dorito. Danny retaliates with Ancient Egyptian Cyber/Pharoah Twink allegations. According to SAM they are both dumbasses.

She's not WRONG... but hey D:<

Eventually? A really niche botany seminar run by Pamela Isely catches the attention of Tucker, who forwards it to him n Sam. Nice ™. It's being held in her Murder Park! Cool! Obviously they have to go. So off to Gotham they go. And? When they get there? Sam is APPALLED.

She may HATE landlords as much as the next activist.... but LOOK at all these run down, foreclosed, rotting buildings! Beautiful gothic infrastructure! Those could be businesses or homes! Danny, busy with signing them up, makes the mistake of tuning her out as she rants in fury. She does this some times. Needs to vent. Uh huh, you're very right. You should contact somebody. I agree. Mmmhmmm.

Hey, Sam, Ms. Isely needs your-....

Sam?

Oh FUCK ™.

By the time the Seminar come around? Sam has violently kicked in the door of more then a feel reality offices. Owns QUITE a few buildings. Danny is sweating. She... she's doing the THING again. The "gimme your Ghost Crew, I KNOW you have a highly specific Ghost Crew, don't you DARE lie to me or I take your knee caps, Danny" stare.

>.> Sam you can't keep doin- *stare intensifies* Yes Ma'am. *Pulls out Fenton phone* and so? Here come the renovation crew. The ONLY honest building Crew in all of Gotham. They cut no corners. Can't be threatened. Gangs, villians, and even local government office try to arrange... accidents on the build sites.

Nothing. Nada. In fact, it turns out more dangerous for THEM then this crew of outsiders!

Wtf!

Then? After these two College age weirdos finish Poison Fuckin Ivys HIGHLY SUSPECT biology seminar? Manson fucks off to who knows where! Leaving what HAS to be "the muscle" behind. Cause I mean? Look, at the guy! He's huge! And what does he do?

Goes building to building. Rents them out to low income families. Honest, hard working shop keepers. And? Eventually decides to settle smack dab in the middle of Gotham, in the shadow of Wayne fuckin tower, spitting distance from the Space museum..... and open? A tea shop? The FUCK?

"The Zone".

In a weird shade of green. With little ghosts, wearing crowns, because and I quote "it's funny"? Certainly crazy enough for Gotham. But like, it's loud as FUCK here. Crowded. There are gas attacks and shit. It'll never las-....

It stays untouched for MONTHS.

Sometimes being the ONLY building near it to be untouched. Gas NEVER getting in. The damn place a BUNKER. And? Despite looking like it's two floors? It's three. You enter and your actually on the second floor. No one's even sure where the fuck the guy LIVES, since he never seems to leave.

Not only THAT. But it... it's like one of those old school apothecaries. Big ol bank of drawers. Guy'll mix up your blend for you right as you watch. Tea nuts are actually risking COMING to Gotham to try his stuff. Writing articles. Apparently he has some pretty rare shit in those drawers.

Some UNKNOWN shit, according to one guy on ViewTube.

There's this whole debate on if it's Ultra Super Rare or that means it's just super cheap knock off crap. Some of them he won't make for people, even if they ask. There's a rumor it's for Meta's with specific diets. Or alien blends. But no one can verify that. Cause like?

Anyone who tries to cause trouble?

Can't fucking FIND the place. And if you're already inside? You just... drop. Stone cold unconscious. It's definitely magic but no one knows if it's HIS or Manson's? You know? He won't talk. Gets annoyed when harrased.

Which off course!

Leaves Only ONE gentleman for the job. An elite special forces trained expert. Polite, dignified, enjoyer of fine Teas. Alfred "Why do you chucklefucks keep forgetting I was in the Queens Service and a Registered Badass" Pennyworth.

After all! He DOES have the days shopping to do.

@babbling-babull @the-witchhunter @hdgnj @legitimatesatanspawn @lolottes

#dpxdc #dp x dc #dc x dp #dcxdp #dc x dp prompt #danny phantom #Tea Shop of Mysteries AU #alfred pennyworth

1K notes · View notes

reveluving · 6 months

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omg phillip graves and his shy wifes first time together pls

Anon, baby! You're playing with my meow meow rn!! 😭💗 BUT LET'S GO

Includes: soft dom!graves (dating/pre-marriage), implications of virginity loss/bad past experiences, petnames ('pretty girl'), fingering, licking & marking, unprotected sex (p in v)

COD x shy!wife thots closed! Thank you, everyone, for your time & amazing minds! I sincerely hope I can do this again with y'all soon! 💌

Come & check out my COD m.list!

It starts with a kiss.

Kisses after kisses. He wants to ease you into the moment. To let you know that time wasn't of the essence and he won't (and would never) rush you into things to the point of scaring or downright pressuring you.

He'll be rougher or freakier with you some other time. When he knows you're more open to newer things, curious of what sex—no, making love has to offer.

“Y'sure you want this?” You nodded into his chest, and as cute as it was, he needed verbal confirmation, “‘M gonna need t’hear you say it, pretty girl.”

“Yes,” It was breathy, almost whispering, but your tone was pure need—he'd know hesitation when he hears or sees one, “Please, Phil. I need you… I–”

You paused, “I've always needed you.”

He effortlessly carried you to the bedroom, holding you up at the foot of the bed before gently laying you down.

He straightened up to remove his shirt, ‘taking the lead’ in undressing in hopes that you'd feel more comfortable with the idea.

“Mind if I take ‘em off?” He gestured to your shirt, kissing your jaw while waiting for your response. Even when you uttered a ‘mhm’, he didn't take them off immediately. Instead, his lips wandered wherever he could reach, then tested out with a few nips here and there.

Hearing your whimpers, barely able to cover up your moans, one could only imagine his self-restraint, dying to make an appearance to make you his. It was evident in the way he gripped the sheets next to your head.

He does the same with your pants/skirt, trailing kisses down your leg as the bottomwear slides off, leaving you in your undies.

He lets you cover yourself, only looking at you with a smile, despite the half-lidded gaze as he whispers in your ear.

“Always knew y'had a fine body,” He emphasized, unable to resist running his hands up and down your soft skin. He helps you with your bra—slowly, then your panties, teasing you with his tongue and noting the spots that make you jump, “Always so soft against me. Makes me fuckin’ hard just thinkin’ about it.”

He chuckles when he sees you cover your eyes, failing to control the rush of heat coursing through you.

Seeing this side of you, still so shy but also waiting to be ruined. It may not be his first time but damn, he could've fooled himself by the control he was nearly lacking.

He rests his head on your tummy, peering up at you through his lashes as he slides a finger in between your folds, pulling it away and delighted to find it wet and shiny. You can’t help but shiver when he groans upon easing his middle finger into you, the tiniest squelch reaches your ears.

He won’t stop until you’re finally used to three of his fingers, caressing your head and face as your face contorts in slight pain, then comes his favourites; eyes rolling back, lips parting and back arching, babbling against his lips ‘yes, yes, yes’ or begging him not to stop.

His cock looks painful at this point, holding himself back against the sheets despite the slight precum on the tip. He asks again, “Inside?”, and at this point, you have your arms around him, almost as if praying to just have him in you.

It’s hard not to stare at his body, especially as he throws his head back. His muscles flex as he wraps your legs around him, slowly bottoming out and letting you get used to his size; the girth is one thing, but the length is another.

A fraction of his resolve begins to chip away when he looks down at you, digging your nails into the sheets and throwing your head back into the pillow, and in a daze, he lunges, nipping and sucking on your neck. Licking up the thin layer of perspiration that covers you in amidst the heat. Giving into your desires, your carnal pleasure.

To finally have him as close to you as possible.

˚ · . f i n . · ˚

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kazutora-kurokawa · 16 days

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pooks, I just read the vamp!baji x vamp!reader and chifuyu asking them to turn him so they could be friends forever is so cute!! (>o<)

sooooo....I sort of have a request for that specifically??

imagine chifuyu asking over and over again for them to turn him, but they keep rejecting him, and when he accidently gets into a life-threatening issue! reader finally turns him because they were so scared to lose chifuyu?? (>n<')

Vampire!Baji x Vampire!Reader pt.2: Turning Chifuyu

♡ SFW for the most part, fem reader, cursing, fighting/jumping, use of weapons (a knife), mentions of bodily harm, bleeding out and necrosis, near death experience, mega angst for a bit but also instant comfort at the end ♡

note: omgg I don't even wanna imagine Fuyu being in danger fr, he's been through enough in the manga 😭 but for the sake of writing I'll do it

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You and Baji had been turning Chifuyu down for forever, no way in hell were either of you gonna turn him into a vampire, regardless of how much he begged and pleaded. That all changed when Chifuyu, being his idiotic, stubborn self, decided to get into a fight with a random guy. His reasoning? They badmouthed Baji. Totally valid reasoning to get into a fight (in his opinion). What he wasn't expecting was the four other guys that popped up out of nowhere. A one-on-five? He was absolutely outnumbered and getting jumped for sure.

That's how he ended up at your doorstep, his Toman uniform torn and blood gushing from his side. You immediately brought him into the house, calling out for Baji from the living room. As soon as Baji saw him, he panicked.

"What the hell Chifuyu? What happened? Who did this?"

"He's in pain Kei! Stop bombarding him with questions."

"Sorry sorry."

Baji helps you lay him on the couch, propping his head up on a pillow as you take his uniform off to assess the extent of his injuries. The two of you can immediately see the amount of damage, even though it was only one stab wound the area around it was severely warm and took on a dark color as if his body was already going through the process of necrosis.

"Shit. Shit. Shit."

"You aren't helping!"

"I'm sorry! I don't know what the fuck to do y/n!"

"...Kei.."

"Y/n...no."

"Kei.."

"No, absolutely not. You are not turning him!"

"We don't have a choice!"

"Yes we do! We can take him to the hospital."

"And risk him dying on the way there? Hell no!"

"Fuck! Okay okay, just do it!"

You take a deep breath, apologizing to a barely conscious Chifuyu in advance for any pain you cause before biting down on his neck. You stay there for a few moments, praying that you did it fast enough. You unhook your fangs from his neck, pulling back as his body starts twitching. As Chifuyu comes to, he looks around the room, his unfocused eyes settling on you and Baji.

"What's going on?"

All you two can do is hug him, holding him as tightly as possible. Baji lets out a breath he didn't even realize he was holding, his grip on Chifuyu loosening a bit.

"Is someone gonna tell me what the heck is happening?"

"You're okay..."

"We thought you were gonna croak on us dude.."

"Huh? What happened?"

"You almost died man!"

"WHAT!"

You instinctively cover your ears as Chifuyu yells, his voice echoing through the room.

"Sorry y/n, didn't mean to be so loud...wait if I almost died, then how am I not dead?"

You remain silent, letting Baji break the news.

"Y/n had to bite you to save you... you're a vampire now..."

"I'm a vampire?...I'm a vampire."

"Yeah..." "Yup.."

"That means... we're friends forever!"

Chifuyu jumps up from the couch excitedly, pulling you and Baji into a tight hug.

"Oh god, an eternity with you? I rather be staked through the heart."

"Great, I'm stuck with you two dorks forever."

Chifuyu only hugs you two tighter.

"This is awesome! Do you think we could make Peke J into a vampire too? An immortal cat would be so cool!"

"Absolutely not" "Absolutely not"

"Pleeeease?"

You lean against Baji's shoulder, laughing softly at Chifuyu's begging before turning your attention to the couch, stained with his blood.

"I'll turn Peke J."

"Really?!" "What?"

"Only if you replace the couch though."

"Done!"

"You cannot be serious...I don't think I can handle an eternity of this."

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Taglist

@arlerts-angel @i-literally-cant-with-this @trevengersprincess @giugiette @katkusuo @happy-trenchcoated-impala @drunkcheesecake @darkstarlight82 @reiners-milkbiddies @manji-hoe

#tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers angst #baji x reader #fuyu third wheeling #i love these guys #they're my everything #My vamp Baji 😭 my little Fuyu 🥹#tokyo revengers fanfiction #I actually did research for the necrosis part and almost threw the fuck up 😭 it was worth it for the fic tho

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cod-imagines-fanfiction · 8 months

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Jealous Alejandro kidnaps Valeria's girlfriend part 5 (2k words)

Summary: Alejandro and Valeria face off.

TW: Violence Link to A03 Link to part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4

“Liar!” Valeria screamed as she lunged at Alejandro with her blade. The hilt shone where the light caught it and Valeria glowed with the silver lustre of the weapon beneath her. In battle, she glistened like an unforgiving, merciless god. She aimed for his neck, she would make him bleed and regret ever looking at her wife in the base way that he regarded her. It never occurred to her that he would ever place his hands on her, and the mere thought sent Valeria into a frenzy. Her wife, defiled by the likes of Alejandro; a man touching her wife, her goddess. The woman who was so beautiful that Valeria could kiss the earth she walked on. It was unthinkable – it was untrue! Y/N would never submit herself to that, she did not have those sorts of feelings. Not only feelings of disloyalty, but feelings towards men. Instinctively, Alejandro reached for his handgun. The two entered a deadly brawl.

They were locked in the dance of death. Their bodies followed the music of violence and brutality; their limbs stretched out and followed the inevitable rhythm of cuts and bruises, of sprained limbs and blood-soaked mouths; of strength and weakness; of the killer and of the killed. The base, animal instinct of murder prevailed over reason and argument. In her heart, Valeria knew that she and Alejandro had never talked properly, and they never would. It was not possible to speak of certain things. The betrayal, the pain; it hung over their struggling bodies, unspoken but felt. It hummed between their yells and grunts; it leapt out every time one looked at the other. Beyond what had happened with Y/N was what happened before. Valeria knew that she had instilled a pain so deep within him that it would never heal, that this pain would be part of him forever. An ugly pain that contorted him from the inside, a pain that Valeria prayed she would never experience. But it was all worth it. Were she given the chance to go back in time, she would do everything exactly like she did; she would pay any price if meant getting to spend her life with Y/N. There was no limit to what Valeria would do. She would break the hearts of everyone that was ever born, she would cut her soul in half -anything for her wife.

“How does it feel, huh?” Alejandro spat out between hurried breaths, matching her attacks with his. “Can you imagine it happening – can you see me doing it?”

“Callate!” Valeria saw her chance and sliced a long gash on his face. With an angry yell, he kicked her and the two fell apart. Valeria crouched with a hand on her abdomen and willed herself not to vomit. What Alejandro spoke of was incomprehensible to her. She could not conjure the image in her mind. It was as hateful as trying to imagine Y/N dying; it was unthinkable and too painful.

“You don’t think your woman could ever love a man?” He held a hand on the bleeding slash on his face, the blood staining his glove. “You really think that, given an alternative, she would stay with you forever?”

Valeria knew that he was only provoking her like he always did. It was one of the things he hated most about him, how he prioritised his amusement over her pain. How he would rile her up just to see her get angry. She hated how stereotypical he made her feel, a caricature of a Latin American woman - always angry, always nagging; feisty! She hated it when he would say how beautiful she looked when angry. Like when someone scares a peacock just to see it spread its beautiful blue and green feathers; a show for the entertainment of others. From the outside, it looked like lover's jest, but she always felt the contempt that lingered beneath his words, the secret enjoyment of her emotional torment. It was his way of dominating her, by controlling her emotions, triggering them for his pleasure. It was something that made her fall hard for Y/N, how, when Valeria showed her frustration, Y/N went above and beyond to soothe her. A shoulder massage, sweet words, sometimes food - she had an array of ways of pleasing Valeria and shooing away the clouds that hovered above her. It was the first time that Valeria felt someone affirm her feelings, and she realised that not all lovers wanted to see her suffer. That there was another life to be had, a soft life. A life where she was not tormented at home, where her spouse didn't make her feel insecure or unwelcome. A life of undeniable, steady love.

She felt the same thing happen now, this dangerous game with her inner fire. His provocation, how he dared her to do something about what he said. The difference was that now, she really did mean to kill him.

“She’s a lesbian, pendejo. It is not possible for her." Valeria looked around the container and felt a hysterical, manic laughter bubble to the surface.

"She's not like you and me. She only swings one way, my way."

Alejandro dropped his hand, the wound still bleeding but he did not bother to soothe it. The blood continued to flow freely, the droplets trailing down his face and threatening to leak onto the floor. There was something in his dark eyes that was at once terribly vulnerable and terribly hard. He tried to hide it, but Valeria had already seen it. "What the fuck did you just say?"

Valeria's face tightened with a terrible grin. "You heard me. You're just like me, Alejandro." She cocked her head to the side. "Exactly like me," she uttered slowly, emphasising every single word, letting them trail off her tongue.

Her words fell and landed with a thunderous blow. They were quiet words with heavy meaning. She felt him glow with shame, which he would express as anger. Men like him always did. Machismo men like Alejandro allowed no room in their lives for something which shamed and frightened them. They did this by not looking at the world too closely, as they did with their reflection in the mirror. They only allowed themselves the quickest of glances before they were in motion again. Their lives were a blur of movement, busy lives that, from the outside, were driven by a purpose bigger than themselves. But really, they busied themselves because they wouldn't allow what they were running from to catch up to them. This threat of shame would haunt them forever. It was not possible to run forever and so there were rare moments where they caught a glimpse of that terrible, nameless thing. Moments at the bar where something frightening glimmered within the eye of another man - was it suspicion, or was it recognition? He would tear his gaze away and look down at his glass, he would reach the bottom. He would forget what happened with each gulp, until the next time.

"You don't hate me because I left you. You hate me because I am what you won't allow yourself to be. Unashamed."

"I don't know what you're talking about." He said with a dangerously low voice, his words sounding like a growl. "You're being crazy like you always were. A crazy, hysterical bitch-"

"You know there's even a word for it these days!" She said with enthusiasm, enjoying how the tables had turned. Enjoying that at long last, they would finally talk. "They call us bise-"

He lunged at her with the ferocity of a cornered animal, his blood-stained hands immediately grasping for her neck. Forcing her silence, forcing her to never speak that word in front of him. It was a silence that Valeria vowed to never hold again. She fended him with her knife, slashing at his wrists. She would buy herself enough time to finally say her peace. To finally get to the bottom of this sick, perverse jealousy that threatened to ruin them both.

"I always saw how you looked at him!" She yelled in between his attacks and her defence. "I saw how you shivered at his touch when you thought no one was looking! I know what is in your heart because it is exactly what is in mine. You hate me because you hate yourself. You think killing me will make that part of you go away, but it never will. I don't care how much you hate yourself, but it is NOT my problem. And it is certainly not my wife's problem!" Her words were drowned by his hands at her throat. Hands that were leaking blood like a river, shaky hands that would make her go quiet if it was the last thing they ever did.

" I am not like you!" He choked out the words. "I am a man."

His grip eased slightly, giving her only enough time to say one thing: "Rudolfo is a man too, but you still love him."

For the first time in her life, she felt that she would really die this time. She had cheated death many times before, but there was no more running from it this time. She would be one more body to the pile that shamed, repressed men created during their lifetime. A pile of murdered ex-lovers lest the world find out they had been loved, and of people who knew the truth and threatened to reveal it. Alejandro, wounded and bleeding out, was content to spend the last scrap of his energy choking her. His heart was beating so fast, he could hardly hear anything above the ringing in his ears. That deafening ringing noise and the feeling of Valeria's body underneath him were the only things he could feel.

And so he didn't hear the sound of creaking metal as the door was opened. He didn't hear someone yell at him to get off her. She was an important informant, after all. This whole mess was so that the Army could finally gain some intel on Hassan and the missiles, and here was the Colonel murdering their best chance at tracking those weapons. But Alejandro heard nothing, not the first pleas and the subsequent commands. He did not hear Rudolfo or Soap yelling. Nor did he hear heavy footsteps approaching and Commander Grave's rifle as it was raised above his head and brought down with more force than was needed. Alejandro's body flayed to the side, yet he held on.

"Damn it, you son of a bitch, I said get off!" Commander Grave's voice thundered within the container as he dragged Alejandro off of Valeria.

Rudolfo was at Alejandro's side at once, already beginning to patch up his wounds. As Valeria was being revived by someone else, Alejandro felt her cold, sardonic gaze on him. He could feel the satisfaction radiating off her, her 'I told you so.' Instinctively, he rejected Rudolfo's first aid. "Quítate," he mumbled and shrugged off any attempts at patching up his slit wrists, or his damaged face. Rudolfo's flinched away from Alejandro and turned to Valeria.

"Valeria Garza, you are now in the custody of the Mexican Army," said Rudolfo as he pulled out a set of handcuffs from his back pocket. "You're going to prison for what you did." He helped her get up and placed the cuffs on her as she gained her footing.

She was expressionless, shaky from her proximity to death. She could only utter one thing. "My wife."

Rudolfo nodded solemnly. "She is in custody waiting for you."

"If she's hurt-"

"She isn't," he said and looked to the side where Alejandro was tending to his own wounds. "I made sure of that." A ghostly smile hovered over her features as Valeria was escorted outside.

Note: I hope you've enjoyed this part! I'm very aware that Valeria and Y/N have spent very little time together in this fic and I promise to bring them together very soon!

pookie bear tag list: @justmare @silas-222 @m0rganit3 @blarba-girl @sleepiemain @caffeineliker @ashy-kit @00ops1e @lesvii @therapyneeds @lez-zuha @starre-eyes @7smexy7diva @hello-kitty-festival @konigmeu @cassiecasluciluce @gay-ass-country-boy @starwars-theclonewhore @bi-witch-bxtch @somnoslvt @ashthepillow @b3ns0ne @idiotwrites @danart501 @deakyspuff @mistresssiri @angethehimbosimp @@sae1kie

#cod mw2 #call of duty #call of duty valeria #cod imagine #valeria garza #cod valeria #valeria garza x reader #valeria x female reader #valeria x reader

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dragon-chica · 1 year

Text

Wednesday Addams General NSF W Headcanons

Fandom: Wednesday

Warnings: Rough sex and kinks, fully consensual harm, idealization of death, it's Wednesday.

Bloodplay is one of her favorite activities. She loves seeing your skin covered in beautiful crimson and licking it off of you, the way your breath heaves as she becoming enamored with a simple cut and her blown pupils staring up at you while her tongue swipes across it.

"I've always enjoyed the phrase 'sticks and stones may break my bones, but chains and whips excite me.' don't you agree?" she says eyeing you up, a hint for later perhaps.

Choking. To the point of where she's about to/may pass out. She imagines you're really ending her, in the throws of bliss and dying by the hands of her true love.

Flogging or whips, she doesn't care for spanking but loves the marks or sometimes welts left behind.

Gods does she love to torment you, but she takes as well as she gives. From drawing everything out as long as possible to literally tormenting you.

She's not one for marking where others can see, and isn't happy when you happen to leave visible marks on her, but she's incredibly possessive and believes it should already be clear that she doesn't share.

You two switch regularly. Even if you usually are into bottoming, there's something about the way she's so prideful and stubborn that goads you into giving her a taste of her own medicine, and reveling in how she eventually crumbles for you.

She is a brat. You're not entirely sure if she's trying to piss you off into taking it out on her, or if she really thinks herself to be so high and mighty trying to talk down to you while she's pinned and handcuffed and your mercy but you remind her soon enough.

Overstimulation. Pain and pleasure, pleasure until it becomes pain is her favorite part. Bringing you the relief of a hard won orgasm then not letting up until you're begging her, that's it's too much. That it hurts. But you were just pleading for her not to stop? To give you more? She's only doing as you asked.

When you do the same to her it's so satisfying to watch her crack. It takes time and patience to make her fall apart but you've learned her weaknesses as well as she knows yours.

Very sarcastic and sadistic, talking down to you.

She's not into voyeur or other's seeing or knowing what you do together. You're hers. To know and have. You're dating an Addams, and that means devotion.

Her hobby of experimenting with sex largely includes her love of torture methods. Slightly adjusted for your enjoyment, but she's willing to try the real thing if you'll do it to her. She can take it. She gives you a challenging stare if you falter.

Honestly you probably find some of the things she's into pretty concerning. You trust her to not truly harm you, which shows a lot, but she wants you to do some hardcore things to her that are hardly sexual and just seem like she has a pain kink that's a little too far.

Waxplay. Specifically with vampire tear candles, but red will also do. She likes it to be candlelit anyway so it's convenient as well.

Wednesday can be sort of clinical in her observations at times. She likes to know exactly what makes you tick and will makes notes from time to time. You're scared to know what's actually in that book.

Bondage. Probably the biggest thing you do is tying each other up and having your way. From intricate shibari to antique manacles that hang in her room presumably for 'decoration'.

If you have a dick she would be ruthless with cock and ball torture. If you don't have a pain kink, you likely would soon without ever having expected it.

She loves the intimacy of knowing exactly what makes her partner tick and plans to learn everything about you.

I lied. I said I was going to work on other characters for a bit. Here's this. I'm sure I could go on, but that's all for now.

#Wednesday Addams x reader #Wednesday Addams imagine #Wednesday x reader #Wednesday imagine #my stuff

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buckybarnesss · 7 months

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Even the framing of that shot fucking kills me: the nogitsune confidently staring at Chris, almost amused, and then Derek comes into frame and he's visibly frightened

And he's not looking at Stiles. He's scared of what Chris is going to do TO Stiles. This is really his biggest fear, what he's been worried about this entire time. And what can he do??

the whole thing is just a masterful stroke on the nogitstune's part. it's torturing everyone in that scene including stiles.

like, of course it's obvious how these events hurt the sheriff. that's his child being tortured by an ancient creature and forced to do terrible, terrible things and also who is clearly becoming more like a walking corpse every minute. it used claudia's illness against both him and stiles to make them lose hope. how he maintained any composure i don't know. i'd be a fucking wreck of a human seeing my loved one worn like an ill fitting suit to prom.

for chris? this is a guy who we've seen intimidate teenagers for no real reason other than because he can. he's held scott at gunpoint for daring to be with allison and nothing else but he hesitates here. he hesitates despite hedging with derek earlier about what he would do.

this moment such an inverse to season 1 going all the way back to that confrontation in code breaker between chris and stiles.

i can guarantee chris was recalling it.

argent: let me ask you a question, stiles... have you ever seen a rabid dog? stiles: no. i could put it on my to-do list, if you just let me go. argent: well, i have. and the only thing i've ever been able to compare it to is seeing a friend of mine turn on a full moon. do you wanna know what happened? stiles: not really... no offense to your storytelling skills... argent: he tried to kill me, and i was forced to put a bullet in his head. the whole while that he lay there dying, he was still trying to claw his way toward me, still trying to kill me, like it was the most important thing he could do with his last breath. can you imagine that?

and allison? allison's already made the horrible decision of harming boyd and erica that started the dominos that led to erica and boyd being taken by the alphas and erica being killed.

now she's confronted with this monster wearing her friend's face toying with their emotions. she tries to subdue it but all that does is piss the nogitsune off and annoy him.

she's been manipulated by both kate and gerard to see her friends as being enemies when they weren't only to be faced with the reality of it here.

allison wants to save her friends so badly to make up for her mistakes but with this she might not be able to.

derek's position is just heartbreaking. this is really his greatest fear and failures playing out again.

we don't often see derek express fear. he usually expresses anger rather than let anyone know he's afraid but here? here derek is afraid.

3A set up that derek and stiles had become friends, that stiles had been working with him over the summer to look for eric and boyd, that derek trusted stiles so much it broke jennifer's magic over him ---

and the nogitsune brings itself to derek's loft for protection because it knows derek will do anything to protect stiles.

he's already lost so many people. he's had to mercy kill people he cared about before. again stiles is one of the few who know about paige, stiles witnessed what happened with boyd and peter and jackson. he knows all of this about derek which means the nogitsune does too.

i'm not really sure what kind of derek we would've seen if stiles had died due to the nogitsune.

of course the person often lost in the psychological warfare of the nogitune is stiles.

stiles had to watch all this. had to see his knowledge used against the people he cared about over and over. his hands and body used for terrible things. the nogitsune fed off that more than anything. stiles's fear and confusion and pain. stiles was dying.

it's why the nogitsune was the best villain lol

#my blog #thoughts on teen wolf #teen wolf #sterek #otp: you need me to survive

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distantdarlings · 7 months

Text

WHAT FEELS LIKE FOREVER // t. nott (Multi-Part) PT. 2

RATING: R / 1.8K WORDS (Pt. 2)

Theodore Nott x Reader-Insert (No gender-specific details)

+ SUMMARY - Your first performance in America starts off roughly. Theo makes the decision to perform a song you wrote. The only problem is that you wrote that song for him, attempting to express your feelings towards him. He was never meant to find it.

+ WARNINGS - Language, tension, angst, eventual smut

+ MUSIC (Listened to while writing) -

Big Black Car - Gregory Alan Isakov

(Small note before I begin: I have been very inspired by Gregory Alan Isakov while writing these chapters and sort of imagined the band sounding like his music and Theo's singing voice sounding like his. Just wanted to mention that so y'all could be on the same page of imagination as I was if you wanted! :) Enjoy!)

---

Theo’s lips spoke the words you had written down in a small journal. Written—unbeknownst to him—for him.

The day Theo had caught you whispering the lyrics as you nursed an alcohol-stained cigarette beneath the stars, was the day the song had been discovered. Theo loved it instantly and demanded the two of you wrote the rest of it together and record it. You had kept your mouth closed for fear of a dry throat and a clenched heart saying things you truly meant.

Now the whole world knew how you felt when even you didn't know how you felt. It wasn't an ideal situation in the slightest and the knowing glances Mattheo and Enzo shot you made you feel even worse.

"Everything you do…," you harmonized with Theo, hearing the way your breaths mingled through the amplifiers. Your chest ached with the dull knife of holding tears in. This song always fucked you up. How you’d begged Theo not to record it…

"...changes how I see us, how I saw us then…," your voice cracked under the pressure of the tears you were suppressing. Theo gave you an odd but worried glance. You swallowed thickly, looking down at the instrument in your hands, focusing on that rather than your screw-up and the sobs that pushed rapidly up your throat.

You finished off the chorus successfully, having stared at the lights trained on the stage until the tears receded. This was your last song…or it wasn't…you couldn't remember and you didn't care. You swiftly slipped the strap of your bass off your shoulders and set the instrument down on its stand.

If you didn't get out now, you would explode. The heat and the lights and the crowd and Theo and Enzo and Mattheo—it was too much. You pushed through the backstage door and felt the autumn air abuse the sweat on your neck. Your hands spread over the balcony, holding your weak back up. The tears that threatened to spill rose in your throat once more. You hurriedly loosened your tie and unbuttoned the top button of your shirt, ripping the suit jacket off along with it. It was so stuffy in there and the cool air felt like the touch of an angel.

Your head hung between your shoulders, feeling them shake with each sob that racked your body. The roots that had planted in your heart burned like a hot poker in your sternum, scorching through your ribs and skin from the inside-out.

You cried out at the pain caused by a single man and the way it felt to be without him. You needed to tell Theo how you felt but the fear of animosity coming from him scared the hell out of you. The thought of hatred any deeper than their normal arguments made you feel like you were dying.

The desire to feel Theo’s hands on your body was more than anything you’d ever felt in your life. It wasn't just a sexual thing. It was something much deeper than that and had been for a very long time. You feared his reaction more than death at this point. But you wanted—needed—to tell him.

The backstage door opened much gentler than it had when you had come out. You could hear shoes scraping against the concrete and light exhales. You recognized the pattern of them, knowing the way Enzo breathed.

"Hey," the man said quietly, placing his hand on your back. His presence seemed to invoke a sense of tranquility almost instantly. Your cheeks dried and the pain alleviated a bit.

"Enzo, I—"

"I know."

You shut up at this. You knew that he had known for a while now, it just felt odd speaking openly about it. It felt wrong but he seemed to make it alright.

"I don't know what to do…," you whispered.

"You will."

There were no more words after this. Only Enzo’s hand on your back and his gentle breathing that soothed you like a lullaby.

× × ×

When the group arrived back at the hotel—still, no words were spoken. Enzo’s hand no longer touched your back and his breathing was too far away to hear.

Theo did not look at you once and your neck ached with the weight of the older's coldness. You could taste the bitter mood on your tongue and you tried to swallow it, but it remained. The aftertaste seemed to be stronger.

The silence became almost suffocating once you had stepped through the door to your hotel room. You shut it and collapsed against the broadside of it, sliding the length of your spine down its surface.

You brought your knees to your chest and buried your face between the two of them, covering your ears with your arms. Radio static and honeyed oatmeal voices rang in your head at a deafening volume. You sighed at the aggressive cacophony within your brain, wishing desperately for it to stop.

You had to tell Theo—that much was obvious. But how? If you were going to get practical, you’d technically already told him. You’d confessed when he had found the song. But the older man hadn't known this.

You pulled himself from the floor and approached the cream telephone that sat menacingly on the bedside table. Your breathing picked up uncomfortably, making a bit of panic set in. Your fingers closed around the receiver and you brought to your ear. You called the front desk and asked for Theo’s room number. Your heartbeat echoed in your ears at the anticipation.

"Who's this?"

"Um…Theo, it's me."

"Oh," the voice on the other end chuckled. "I thought you were some crazy fan or something. What's up, love?"

"C—" you choked on your words, your throat swelling as if a pillow had been shoved down it. "Can you come to my room, please?"

There was a silence on the other end that lasted only a few milliseconds. It was most likely Theo hearing the question and making a decision, but it felt like years to you. The fingernails on your free hand creased into the flesh of your palm so deeply you could've sworn you were drawing blood.

"Yeah, sure thing," he spoke. "I’ll be right over. Do you want me to bring my pillow?"

"If you want," you said, a breath of air slipping past your lips in delighted relief.

"Alright," he whispered into the phone, the crackly connection making it seem as if Theo was there next to you already.

The line went dead and, still, you stood there, with the phone pressed to your ear. It was as if you were waiting for him to come back and tell you he was just kidding. That he would never help you out or stay with you.

Your throat felt tight again. but the feeling did not remain when there was a knock at your door. The phone slipped from your fingers and clattered against the dresser, dangling against each individual drawer.

You made your way to the door and pulled it open—perhaps a bit too harshly. Theo waited on the other side with his pillow tucked beneath his arm. He was already in his night clothes—the same trousers and shirt as this morning on the beach.

"Hey," you spoke breathlessly.

"Hey," he replied, equally breathless as if he had run the whole way here. Your stomach tingled at the thought of him hurrying as fast as he could to see you. It made you feel as warm as if he had just wrapped you in a blanket.

Theo stepped in and threw his pillow on your bed, collapsing against the old mattress right after it. He made himself comfortable, slipping his feet beneath the duvet.

"I have to take a shower, okay?" you said.

"Of course—I'm not your mum," he chuckled which made the younger suppress a smile.

"Okay."

You made quick with your work of grabbing your night clothes—the jumper and trousers you wore this morning—out of the dressers and exiting the room. You walked down the hallway to the communal showers at the end of it. You didn't like having to share showers with strangers but you reckoned it was better than nothing.

The shower was quick and hot and steamed up the bathroom fast. The moisture in the air filled your lungs and made it somewhat difficult to breathe. In an effort to get out of the suffocating room, you dressed quickly and hung your towel around your neck.

When you arrived back into the room, Theo had drifted off. His eyes were peacefully shut and his body was curled around his pillow like a child to its mother. Your chest ached at the small tells he seemed to have that always compared him to a young boy.

The duvet had been pulled up to his waist and tucked messily. He looked comfortable.

You smiled softly and ran the towel over your hair once again, attempting to dry it a bit more. You threw the used material in the corner of the small closet and made your way over to the bed.

As gently as you could, you slipped beneath the heavy duvet and laid on your side, watching over Theo. You watched as his body rose and fell with stable breaths.

The older's eyes fluttered and he found yours. He was suddenly awake and glancing around.

"Oh, I'm sorry…I didn't mean to nod off like that," he sighed, rubbing his eyes with the heel of his hand. "What did you want to talk about, love?"

"Nothing, it's alright. Go back to sleep," you smiled, reaching over to pat the top of his hand.

"No, you wanted to talk, let's—"

"Really, Theo, go to sleep."

The older looked unsure but also incredibly tired. He sighed and leant his head back against his pillow. He seemed to be physically fighting sleep, trying his hardest to stay awake for his friend.

"Go to sleep," you whispered once again. You continued to watch as the young man drifted off again, his fingers curling around your hand, seeking subconscious comfort.

You stared at the two of your hands before slowly turning it over. You entwined your fingers with his, marvelling in how they looked together.

"I love you, Teddy," you whispered to your sleeping love. You wondered if he was awake in the slightest and whether or not he'd heard. If he had, he said nothing.

You watched as the man's lips trembled under the weight of his dreams. You decided that you should probably go to sleep as well. You all had a big day tomorrow and you knew well enough that the man lying next to you was going to paint your dreams with gorgeous devastation.

Part 3!

#fanfiction #creative writing #fanfic #writing #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #reader insert #harry potter smut #slytherin #x reader #theo nott #theodore nott #theodore nott x reader #story #chapter 2 #gender neutral reader #enzo berkshire #mattheo riddle #alternate universe

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amagpiesguide · 1 month

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Do you think Ariane ever wanted her mom? Like because when we’re in pain, or scared or really anything we tend to want our mothers, so it’d be natural for Ariane to want her mother. GOD I IMAGINED IN ARIANES LAST MOMENTS BEFORE THE BIORESONANCE THING SHE WAS CRYING FOR HER MOM

Now that got me thinking, what about the replikas?? Do they long for the neural pattern’s mothers even though they’re not biologically their child?? When they destabilise I mean, like imagine a dying STAR on the battlefield calling out for her neural patterns mom oh my days

You guys cannot convince me ariane did not want her mom, especially with how she was raised I would reckon they had a very close bond. I wish there was more stuff surrounding ariane’s mom and even the itou twins mom like who is she?? Anja Itou or Lilith itou?? I would think Anja, because Lilith never had a male lover (that we know of) but she had Alina. Lilith being a possible older sister to them seems like a much more likely scenario than their mother, and personally on how lilith’s personality is shown (this is with the theory that she’s Elsters neural pattern) she probably would not want kids

And if the case was that Lilith was their mom, realistically then, Elster would’ve most likely atleast had some more instinct to protect isa— meanwhile with a sibling you really don’t have that urge (unless their like a baby) and honestly, I think Lilith and the twins wouldn’t of known each other for that long. Lilith would’ve been just a faded memory from childhood [if I’m correct on the timing of when Lilith might’ve been put into whatever they do to the replika neural pattern and that she is Elsters neural pattern] I mean, the faint possibility of her being the twins mother is that if Alina was their second mother, but that doesn’t make sense: Ariane is often portrayed as a ‘clone’ in a way of Alina, looking almost exact same as her. So why would Alina be their second mom? And it wouldn’t be possible because Alina was in the sierpenski as we know it,

So that would leave Anja to be their mother, Lilith? Maybe a cousin or older sister. Looking at Isa (assuming that Erika looks basically the same) she looks like she would relate to Lilith but not in a mother and daughter way; more like a cousins or sisters way. And What is the deal with Alina?? Is she just meant to be Lilith’s lover, or does Ariane end up being like some reincarnation of her? Or is Alina in retrospect just made to be that person Ariane triggers Elsters neural pattern memories with? But that would make her character practically basic if she only had one purpose. But I can’t figure out what she’s even here for, maybe she doesn’t really have a purpose? Some characters in fiction might not have proper purpose but they’re very important to plot I think,

Oh the ariane having acute radiation syndrome, she would be in SO much worse of state in reality, burns everywhere only getting worse, skin cells dying, even her bone marrow [i forgot if this parts correct shh] possibly started to degrade [I think I’m thinking of chromosomes], her teeth falling out, her organs dying from the inside out, losing absolute control over her own bodily fluids, I understand that it’s probably for creepy affect with her very basic black arms and legs to show nercotic skin but realistically ariane would’ve been dead much sooner when the radiation kicked in, even with the cryo medical pod. We all know of the person who had severe radiation poisoning, he died after a long battle. Considering Ariane would’ve practically be begging Elster— if Elster didn’t die first, because to me atleast, Replikas much more fragile when it comes to things like radiation, excluding MNHR units. They would start to degrade faster than a human would,

Ariane would be in so much pain, her skin wouldn’t even turn black it’d fall off exposing muscle and nerves. And her hair doesnt make sense, when someone has that much radiation and Ariane probably got out through so much more radiation, her hair would’ve fallen OUT, not grown. She would’ve looked like a burned mummy, and most likely. Elster wasn’t Alive to see any of Ariane’s true pain, yet Ariane probably would’ve still chosen the Penrose program. Why? Because hearing how sierpenski is that shit is SCARY. But also, we all know of Ariane’s bullying on rotfront. With how much she was getting bullied [I heard she even got put in hospital temporarily?? Idk if that’s right] she would of course pick that option. It’s like giving someone the option to choose: Go to school for years, Go for a year and get all of your diplomas immediately [of course it’s not a accurate comparison but shut up]

Bullying fucking ruins people, from experience I wanted to leave my entire country because I got bullied so badly. I wanted to leave the planet [as in going to space], when your given a choice between going to a facility or seeing the stars? You’d the stars especially in ariane’s place. The eusan nation is strict, and rotfront was terrible to ariane. Why would she want to put herself through more??

Anyways I’m literally ariane yeong (I bleached my hair to look like her, my roots are over grown tho 🫡) also sorry for so much writing, I have no one to really yap my ideas to 😔🙏

#signalis #yapping #ariane yeong #signalis ariane #signalis lstr #isolde itou #alina seo

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ladystardust-thinks · 6 months

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you are in love - t.e.

taron egerton x fem!reader, fluff

request:

Hi hiii! Can I request a fluffly imagine w Taron Egerton where he's simping over the reader during an interview? Thank youu have a nice day!!!

a/n: Aloha! I'm scared of this fic not getting seen by the anon that requested it bc I thought I had kept another ask by them, were they talked about it being neutral, if possible, but turns out I deleted it (😭) so now I don't know if they see it. IF YOU DO PLS SEND ME AN ASK SAYING YOU SAW IT, I AM BEGING. Btw inspired by you are in love by taylor swift, I thought that was obvious though, kinda want to do a part 2 where you keep his shirt and he keeps his word, but it's just an idea

tags/warnings: not proofread at all, wrote it half-drunk idk if it's obvious lmao, language, mention of reader's hair, taron & reader swooning and dying and being obsessed with eachother, she/her pronouns, drinking, casual love confession, third and first person pov, i think that's all.

word count: no word count bc I was bored, but it's pretty long ig

dividers

"I think being unofficially adopted by Elton was inevitable on set. We've just recognised that only one could be the favourite."

She nods slowly and a grin forms on her face. Taron can't form more of a smile. His cheeks were in pain. Three minutes into the interview and still, not able to answer a question. That's a lie, actually. He could answer a lot of questions. What her favourite song is, the amount of summer fruit she eats in wintertime just because they look cute, the color her eyes have when she sits in front of the sun, every tiny little thing, but that'd be useless in a press tour.

His favourite questions though would be the ones he asked her. The ones about music. How much she relates to Vienna, the guitar solo from Killer Queen, what does she think of the cowboy like me lyrics. Anything she could talk about for hours, he could listen to for hours.

"My back hurts." She whispers to him during the commercial break he didn't realize they were in. "What?"

"My back hurts from carrying this interview. Say something. Otherwise I'm going to die the day Jimmy Fallon makes an interesting conversation point." She whisper-shouts and him.

"I mean it's pretty hard to be hated when you don't have a personality, isn't it?"

He shrugs and smiles at her.

"I feel bad, we're sitting here gossiping about our host. But yeah. True."

She giggles thinking of his joke again. He looks at her as he is trying to keep his smile from exploding. As if he'd laugh with all his teeth if he let go. He's looking at every part of her, his eyes following the curves of her hair, her cheeks with their smile lines, because of her wide beams throughout the years. His eyes going all over her, as if he was scanning her, as if he'd been memorising every little one of her characteristics.

"What's wrong with you today, did I turn into a ghost?" She asks him, smiling.

"What?" He laughs slightly.

"You look at me all the time with that dead fish face. As if you're constantly wondering about something."

"I wonder about a lot of things, I'm a very philosophical man."

"I'm pretty sure that's how Freud's mommy issues started."

"Stop it."

"You stop it."

"Stop what?"

"Being so distracted."

"Only when you stop being so distracting."

"I know, I'm gorgeous but get your shit together."

"You are." He turns to look at her and smiles.

Stunned, she pauses a bit, pursing her lips together. As if she wasn't expecting the compliment. As if he didn't look captivated by every little move she made, the fidgeting of her hands or the twitch of her nose when she was confused. She also turns to look at him.

"Thank you." She lets out a breathy laugh.

"You don't look half bad. Actually, no. You don't look quarter bad! I don't even know if that makes sense, but it felt nice to say." She feels something newfound. Something hopeful and surprising all together. She wondered if he could see it in her eyes, though she hoped he couldn't because it felt vulnerable. She wasn't at ease, she was just delighted enough to only fly right over her safety net. Just in case.

***

As a person I have a lot of qualities, whether people would argue if they're good or bad, I did and they were a lot. Sadly, being patient is not one of them. I have to be distracted from everything at anytime and be constantly stimulated. Sitting down on a makeup and hair chair to be Laura's laboratory animal was one of these activities. One that could bore me very easily, but I also loves doing. It makes her happy to try new things and it makes me happy to see it.

Scrolling on tiktok, I land on a clip from last night's interview, with Taron.

'Currently needing someone to look at me like Taron Egerton looks at his co-stars',

read the caption.

"You're a lucky ass girl." Laura howls seeing my screen from over my head.

I look up and grimace at her.

"You're invading my personal space."

"You are my best friend, I've been invading your personal space since we were 20 and you were crying in the bathroom of a bar because the little umbrellas the cocktails had were 'just too cute'. Get over yourself, he's as cute as the umbrellas, you were thinking it, I said it."

"I- Touché."

Is he?

I mean he's really nice and you'd probably call him charming. And he hears me, which not a lot of people do - including me - anytime i ramble on about... anything.

You could call him cute, yes. He can be funny aswell. It might be the british-ness, I'm not sure. Though, I do enjoy spending time with him.

He's also nice to look at. That sounds weird. He is objectively, and only objectively, really attractive.

"Laura." I say sternly and look up at her through the mirror.

"Mhm..." She's so nonchalant about this. I need some sympathy here!

"You think?" My eyebrows furrow and I tilt my head. I belive I was denying my thoughts more than I was questioning them.

"If you don't, I will. I guarantee you though, I won't be as successful." Her grin makes me frown in thought. At least this is going to be an interesting press tour, isn't it?

***

"I can't say something like that, she'd kill me."

"You smile like an idiot when she talks to you. If she were to kill you she would've already."

"I- I don't think I would mind. I mean, it's from her hands, at least I'd die a happy man."

Richard squints his eyes. "Yes... And you still can't find a way to say that. Uh-huh."

The backstage for their interview had an air, heavier than it needs to be for Taron to process. Variety interview, press event, after-party. That was the schedule for the day, as of 5 minutes prior. Five minutes, in which he felt actually, relaxed. All until we had to shove a 'Confess your immortal passionate love to your co-star (bonus points if she doesn't hate you)' in the To-Do list. Taron thought Richard might, could, maybe, possibly, ever in a million years, be a bit of help.

But he wasn't, he was just being a dick about it, no pun intended. 'Yeah, you're smitten mate.' as if he didn't know that! He didn't need a doctor's diagnosis to tell him he was absolutely and utterly in love. What were the possibilities he wouldn't be? How could anyone not be? He hadn't ever met a more genuine and caring and generous and sweet person in Hollywood. No, fuck Hollywood, his life.

***

Entering the venue hurt him physically. At least that's what it felt like. You cannot judge him, if you had her waving at you from across the room with this wide smile you would've understood. He purses his lips into an upside-down smile he couldn't hold, he would never want to disappoint her like this, but he couldn't wave back of course. He thought he'd faint any moment if he moved. Right, fun. What was he supposed to do, ignore her? Avoid her? That might aswell hurt more. His breath hitched when she began walking over to him. What was wrong with him? He is a confident grown ass man, why does she make him act like that, how does she manage that? Why can she walk in and make the room shine? Why is she so genuinely funny and interesting? How can she be so talented, but at the same time so understanding of others. If it wasn't her Taron wanted to confess to, he'd ask her for advice.

"Thank god you're here! The music is boring, the food is bland and the people are so rich I can't even comprehend if they're talking about their yacht, their Oscar or their villa."

She clearly wasn't doing any better. "Need saving?" he teases and she finds herself chuckling. That's a sweet thought. A nice way to put it. Need a knight to save her from the absolute dread of boredom.

"Yes, Romeo."

"Romeo? I'm flattered."

"You shouldn't be, you die."

"I die in love."

"You die heartbroken, have you read it?"

"Under love's heavy burden do I sink."

"Very well delivered, congratulations."

"Thank you very much."

She smiles and sighes, he's so stupid, it's kind of adorable. What's even more stupid is how stupid he makes her feel. She feels like a fool when she can't come up with a sarcastic comment. She feels like a fool when she notices looking at her and can't even whisper, if ever utter a word. She just smiles. It's annoying.

"Well Romeo and Juliet is pretty fitting, considering you look like you just escaped straight out of some fairytale." He had to gather all his courage and make this compliment, but at least she liked it. No, she loved it. She adored it. It was so adorable, it was so nice. It's a compliment you see being said in books and movies. Made her feel gorgeous, like she was the only one in the room.

"I- Romeo and- Sorry. Romeo and Juliet is a tragedy, not a fairytale." She wasn't sure what else to say and what she did already was supposed to come out way more confident, it didn't. Obviously.

***

I’m not certain how we did so, but we ended up in the backyard of somebody, who knew somebody, who knew somebody who had cheap wine and a good taste in music, but we did. I had a drink in my hand and I was going off about something, but the conversation was changed soon enough. When Taron asked me, how the hell was I single. I looked at him. I squinted and sighed. "Why wouldn't I be? I mean I'm fun and pretty and famous, but who does commitment with a cat lady?! Who would want something long term? Pffft nobody."

I don't think I realised what I was whining on about until I heard him speak up. He said 'Me.' He really said me! It was so foolish, and I was so drunk, but he did say it.

"You."

"Me."

"You're funny."

"Only when I'm joking."

"Fuck. Would you?"

"Would I what?"

"No like, would you actually?"

"...Yeah. Yeah, probably.".

"That's- So you like me?"

"No, I don't think so."

"But-"

"I love you, I believe."

I was just looking at him. I could not function. I thought about the cost of being hospitalised for possible heart abnormalities and cardiac arrest. Saying me too seemed cheaper and more beneficial, so that was what I went with.

"Are you joking?" I let out a breathy laugh, thinking his concerns were ridiculous. "This whole time? Oh my god. I just wasted all this time."

"All this time of what?" He asks and I wonder, how could he not understand? It was so painfully obvious that I wanted him. I craved to hear his laugh and listen to him every day, 'til I would die.

"All this time of not being with you."

His mouth was left a bit agape, but I could see a smile being formed slowly. He just looked at me. With that stupid dead fish face he'd done at first. Laura's gonna love this.

"Could you do me a favour?" I look at him and chuckle.

"What is it?"

"Could you say it again?" I smile, tight lipped.

"I love you."

#taron egerton #taron egerton x reader #taron egerton fluff #taron egerton x reader fluff #taron egerton x fem!reader

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itsohh · 9 months

Text

1 A.M

A/N: More vampire au but this time more with Price. It's not super vampiric but it's part of the au regardless.

Summary: When the boys decide they want to go out for the night, Price discovers you fast asleep in your office. The pair of you might not be explicitly the closest in the group but he still takes care of you.

Word count: 1350

Warnings: None

AO3 Masterlist Vampire AU Masterlist

With a deep breath, you clenched your fist. It was never easy standing your ground against your superiors. It was even more challenging when they weren't even human. Price always had that intimidating aura about him. One that scared you shitless and stowed away in your core far longer than Ghost's stares ever could.

"I understand your concern but it was the best course of action."

"You put yourself at risk. Again. How many times is that? Your luck is going to run out."

"It's my job."

"Your job is making sure we have proper access to blood powder. Not bleeding yourself dry, not fighting in our wars with us and certainly not dying for us." Price sighed as he leaned over the desk.

"I will… take that feedback into consideration, Captain Price." You looked away from him. "I have paperwork that I need to fill out." You excused yourself from his presence and didn't see the way he looked at you as you left his office.

"Hey Price. Lads and I are gonna hit the bar. Did you want to come?” Soap pushed his head into Price's office, “Also, have you seen the Agent? Gotta ask her too." Price looked up from his work. It has been at least a day since he had spoken to you and your conversation stayed on his mind on repeat.

"I imagine she's in her room for the moment if she hasn't gone home."

"Nah she only goes to her flat on the weekends. I already checked there. Was gonna see her office next." Price stood up from his desk and grabbed his jacket from the back of his chair.

"I'll come with you."

Soap grinned at Price and soon the pair of them had made their way to your office door. The door wasn't completely shut and had a small crack which Soap slowly pulled open and knocked on the door. "Hey, are you-" Soap paused when he saw your sleeping form on a pile of paperwork.

"Sometimes I forget she's not one of us and actually needs to sleep."

"You go off with Ghost and Gaz. I'll look after her."

"You sure?"

"I've got her."

Soap left with a shrug and soon Price came into your office. His eyes glanced at the paperwork you had been working on. It took him a moment to realize what it was -a contract. Price's eyes roamed and saw the letterhead and furrowed his eyes when he saw it. It was MI6. They had offered you a job and he couldn't help but feel the tang in his chest at the thought. His mind wandered back to the argument the pair of you had a few days prior. Would you take it to get away from him?

His eyes found the last piece of the contract where you would sign your name. Instead of where he expected your signature he found it was crossed out. Instead, a small note was written in the footnote.

I appreciate the recognition and your offer is very generous, but I must refuse your offer. My current place of work is a good fit for me and would like to continue my employment indefinitely.

The note had that tension in him die down. Despite how cold he often spoke to you, he couldn't deny he enjoyed your presence. The thought of you leaving made him realise that. At first, he hated the idea of you, only going along for Laswell's sake. But now that you are here? He didn't want you to go.

Price's eyes went to the awkward way you slumped over your desk. It couldn't have been comfortable. He could imagine the neck and back pain it would cause you in the morning but you wouldn't let that get in your way. Nothing ever got in your way.

Slowly, he bent over and picked you up. Your arms went over his shoulder while your face rested against his neck. Price had an arm under your knees and his other hand on your back. A small mumbled protest came from your mouth but aside from that you didn't stir from your rest. In fact, you pressed your face against his neck while your fingers curled into his chest.

"You’re alright. Let's get you to bed." There wasn't any response to his quiet assurance. On the way towards the shared dorm room, he didn't come across anyone else and a quick glance at the clock told him it was almost one. "Of course, those Muppets would want to go out at this time." Price rolled his eyes at the thought of Soap but frowned at the thought of you. You could get into a lot of trouble for not sleeping properly.

"You better be getting your eight hours of uninterrupted sleep, Agent." He mumbled out knowing you couldn't hear him. Price stopped in front of your door only to discover it was locked. You, of course, would have the pass but he didn't really want to wake you up or start patting you down to find it.

Price let out a breath and looked down to the end of the hallway where his own bedroom lay waiting. That was a room he could unlock. So he quietly made his way to his bedroom. His bed lay pristine and Price found it easy to slip you into the covers.

Immediately you made yourself home and curled up on your side. Your arm snatched a pillow and mumbled something ineligible into it when you pushed your face into it. Right away Price knew that you would end up smelling like him for a decent while. The thought had his lips go dry and he let out a huff at his own reaction. He opened the side table next to you and found a small notepad before he scribbled on it and left it there.

John paused for a moment and watched your peaceful sleeping face. That earlier frustration came back to him. Always so reckless and quick to put others before you. It would get you killed one day. He didn't want that on his conscience. He didn't want that at all. Yet, there wasn't much else he could do. You had heard his concern and that was that. He could only hope that you listened to him. His hand gently graced your cheek for a moment and then he was gone.

When the morning came you woke to feel more rested and relaxed than you had in a long time. What you didn't expect was to find yourself in a mystery room. Panic overcame that relaxation as you tried to remember what happened the night before. You couldn't even remember leaving your office let alone joining someone's bed.

Your eyes analysed the room to search for anything that could tell you whose room it was. It certainly wasn't Gaz's. In the corner of your eye, a small notepad caught your eye.

Try not to fall asleep at your desk again. Eight hours, get it Agent.

- P

This was Price's room? It seemed a lot simpler than you had expected but at the same time so incredibly him. It wasn’t super neat but it was clean regardless. You let out a breath and wondered why you hadn’t figured it out before. The entire place smelt like him. It was almost comforting. Despite how hard he could be on you, you liked Price. He cared and was passionate about his work. The thought brought a smile to your face, even after all the time he had spent alive he still had that drive to him. It made you wonder if you would always have it. The sound of an email alert from your phone brought you crashing back to reality with a sigh. It was strangely nice in his bed. Yet, you had a job to do and life wouldn’t wait. Still in your clothes from the previous day, you rolled your shoulders before you slipped out of the bed, praying to whoever would listen that Soap wouldn't see you leaving Price's room.

#john price x reader #cod x reader #mw2 x reader #call of duty x reader #john price #call of duty #modern warfare 2

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nomsfaultau · 4 months

Text

Hybrid AU in exile week where avian instincts can take over to a degree that is almost horrific, erasing someone’s personality and rationality when they’re panicking. First part here.

Philza groans a little bit as he hears the distressed chirping start up again. He’s yet to find who it’s coming from, and keeps falling into his instincts and snapping back in the middle of nowhere. But he sighs and starts flying over of his own volition since at least then he’ll know how to get back home. It’s far away, but he’s hardwired to hear the pitch of a scared chick, so the land blurs by as he soars over.

Unlike usual, the chirping doesn’t cease. Philza flies after it, making it further than ever before to land so far from Techno’s cabin he doesn’t recognize it at all. He caws out loudly, but at once the chick is forced silent, mistaking him for a predator. Well, it was a coin flip for if that would help. That’ll make the search harder. In all likeliness, Philza would have missed the hatchling if it weren’t for the tall tower. It’s a haphazard mixture of cobblestone and dirt, clearly just constructed. He lights upon the top, peering at a tuft of down caught on the dirt. They can’t be far.

The hatchling is a bloodied mess at the bottom, staring at him with wide dilated eyes. Philza’s own pupils grow to match. The shrill shrieks of terrified chirps tear out of the hatchling as he swoops for them, though they calm as he tucks over, hiding the vulnerable chick beneath his wings and cooing warmly.

Blearily, Tommy breaks out of his panic wrapped in the arms of his abuser. He nuzzles in, till it registers that he’s wrong. His sharp confusion is met only with coos from a guy he barely recognizes as Phil. Questions like how did you get here and why didn’t you come sooner and do you have any healing potions? are all met by wide blank eyes and more cooing. Philza is completely incapable of responding with actual words, at most seeming frustrated Tommy has no idea what his tweets are supposed to mean. What little escape he can manage in his condition is thwarted by the large crow wings wrapped gently around him. Like, it’s kinda nice? But also Tommy is dying, and instead of helping the guy is just peering at him and cooing. Maybe that’s fair, though. What did Tommy ever do to deserve saving? Everything hurts so, so much, the world blurry with pain. His talons grow cold as his blood seeps out and coats the both of them.

Soon, Philza breaks out of it, since while Tommy is incredibly hurt he isn’t actually Philza’s chick. His potions were left at home, but he crafts makeshift bandages out of ripped up fabric and some spider string he had on him. Tommy’s getting worse by the minute though, and for some reason he doesn’t have any potions on him.

As best Philza can tell, the chick was trying to learn to fly, but that’s usually a bonding activity. Where’s the guardian? And…and isn’t Tommy far too old to be having flying accidents? At the very least he should be an adept glider by now…

Pure horror overtakes Philza as he registers what’s wrong. Someone has clipped Tommy’s wings.

Tommy doesn’t have any clue what he’s talking about, though, doesn’t know enough about flying to understand why he’s upset. Mostly Tommy is off-put by his reaction, and far more concerned with his immediate agony. Philza’s agitation grows since he can’t imagine a more horrid crime against an avian, but he holds back his protective instincts because the vengeance to fall on whoever did this is an honor reserved for Tommy’s guardian to enact. Tommy isn’t Philza’s chick, after all.

Tommy brightens as he hears the hiss of the Nether portal, his sweet notes the familiar trills reserved for greeting one’s guardian. But when the masked man that walks out is donned in Tommy’s clipped primaries like some sick trophy, Philza’s blood runs cold.

And somewhere in his brain, Tommy goes from being a chick to his chick.

And Philza’s eyes dilate to nearly pure black as he steps between Tommy and the threat to his brood. Philza attacks in a feral state, powerful and swift and seething. Any bargains or threats the abuser makes are met only with vehement cawing. The abuser tries to enderpearl away, only to be flown after, Philza unrelenting in his fury as he claws through the vile monster that hurt his hatchling.

A trident boosted pearl gets the abuser far away enough that Philza blitzes back to his chick to shelter him from other threats. Tommy is panicking, demanding to know why his friend was attacked, only to be met with incomprehensible cawing.

But he calms when he spots his abuser coming back over the horizon, geared up this time and not about to be taken off guard again. And then suddenly Tommy is seized in a vice grip and launched up into the air, and his abuser is getting smaller and smaller beneath them, and Tommy is shrieking, his distressed chirps ear-piercing as he reaches for his abuser, begging to be rescued. But his abuser can’t fly, and Tommy is dragged away until the world is a blur. His talons dig into Philza, terrified he’s going to plummet again. Thrashing only makes everything hurt so much more, but Tommy does so anyway, desperate to escape. But he's already so weak from blood loss, and can do nothing as he's flown away.

Warm coos hum in the chest of the avian kidnapping him, trying to suppress his resistance. Yet Tommy’s shrill, terrified chirps never cease, ring out through the chill arctic air, startling the horses and dogs as they land and Philza carries him indoors, filling the home as Tommy is forced into a nest he doesn't recognize.

Never once does Tommy stop crying to his abuser for salvation.

Next>

#c!tommy #dsmp #dsmp fic #exile arc #exile week #tommyinnit #tommyinnit fanfic #Ctommy #hybrid au #philza #dsmp philza #cphilza #angel duo #angel duo fic #philza fic #philza fanfic #tw injury #tw self loathing #something to nom on

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cressthebest · 2 months

Text

Crimson Rivers thoughts pt. 5

chapter 9:

1. OMG DID REMUS FORGET TO GO BACK TO HIS CELL WAIT HOLY SHIT THIS ISNT GONNA BE GOOD

2. oh good wait, remus left and came back

3. sirius’ first thought is to brush his teeth to kiss sirius 😭😭 he’s so me fr. i wouldn’t let my ex kiss me unless they brushed their teeth first. or had a mint. im so sensitive to smells

4. “He used to build things. Create things. And now he's lucky if he doesn't destroy what's already formed.” JESUS FUCK. THATS LITERALLY SO SAD WTF

5. 😭😭😭 sirius is literally amidst gay panic beyond your wildest comprehension and remus is just like ✨☺️😏🥱🩷🏳️‍🌈 “touch me”

BABES

6. “Remus hums. "Imagine how I feel. No one's touched me without causing me pain in five years."” NOOOO BABY

7. god, wolfstar deserves everything. the best wolfstar content i find is always in a fic that is centered on another ship. i could literally survive off wolfstar alone- no water, no food, no air

8. wolfstar calling each other beautiful>>>>>>>

9. 😬 what did sirius jsut say. i must be going crazy. cause there’s no way he just said he needed to brush his teeth

10. wolfstar deserves the world universe

11. reg is no longer a pathetic teen with a crush, he’s a pathetic adult with a crush

12. reg being grumpy even in his sleep <33333

13. james having a pathetic crush on reg while cuddling together is top tier

14. there really needs to be an emoji to accurately show the face i just made. it probably looks similar to this- 😀😟 what. there’s no way reg is about to tease james, just to get his old 14 year old self off

15. 😀😀 girl what is he doing. i-

16. how he became freinds with barty is so crimson rivers canon, i can’t even. like, i KNOW that it’s canon. but it’s also canon that bizzarestars was right about. no author mistakes in that piece

17. damn, reg is actually gonna go at it. i don’t know how james is gonna survive this and make it to the actual arena.

18. “James says his name like it's the only word that has meaning. His voice is rough, and Regulus' name is sloppy and desperate in his mouth, like a hail mary or a form of salvation.” CHRIST. I SAID I DIDNT KNOW HOW JAMES WOULD SURVIVE THIS, BUT HOW THE HELL DID REG SURVIVE THIS??

19. “Barty is a good lover, there's no denying that—but he'll be damned if James isn't just better.” 😟 shocked. omg. who would have guessed this would be reggie’s thoughts

20. “"Because you might die today," Regulus tells him bluntly, shrugging one shoulder as he stands up. "Consider it a parting gift. Now, get out."”

😧

they just fucked, and all reg can do is be like “yeah yeah, now get out horny bitch” no fucking way i just read that right i-

bitch that’s foul

21. “Regulus is a conundrum, honestly.” yes. that’s the word i’d use to describe him.

22. james: don’t tell sirius that reg and i just fucked. also james: “he’s in the shower”

bitch if you could be any more obvious

23. “Remus Lupin. If there's one good thing to come out of all this, it's him.” YES YES YES ABSOLUTELY! REMUS IS THE GOOD IN THIS

24. “”James, I am so grateful to know you, and so sorry that I had to. Every name that I call is a name I wish I never learned. Yours—you—will remain etched into my heart forever."” BITCH I CANT CRY OVER THIS- MY EYE MAKEUP LOOKS TOO GOOD TODAY TO CRY

25. “"I'll see you again soon, Regulus."” BITCH WTF THAT HURTS EVEN MORE THAN JAMES’ GOODBYE

26. maybe it’s been too long since i’ve read the books, BUT this fic seems to capture the absolute tragedy and horrors of it before it even starts even more

27. christ, not reg saying the “i don’t want to go” that hurts. like holy fuck. he’s still just a scared child. don’t put him in that arena

28. god, the way the death of james feels like sirius dying too. and sirius deciding that once james is dead, sirius will be too

how the hell is this people’s comfort fic???

29. not sirius having a lapse of memory and losing his memory of his last moments with james. that shit hurts

30. fabian <3333

31. 😧 wait fabian is dead. they just shot him. holy shit

32. gideon <3333

33. wait gideon is dead too.

y’all. i just-

this whole chapter was a fucking rollercoaster.

#marauders #fanfic #regulus black #ao3 #james potter #jegulus #remus lupin #sirius and regulus #sirius black #wolfstar #crimson rivers #pandora lovegood #pandora rosier #sexy times i guess

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privateanxieties · 8 months

Text

to the shadows, we return (part 2 - final)

Summary: After you take an arrow to the chest for Frank, you find yourselves having to discuss the ensuing feelings and coming to a mutual agreement.

Words: 2K; fluff, hurt/comfort, Frank being sweet

Warnings: physical recovery, mentions of weight loss (not ED-related).

Part 1 here

------------------

However glad you are to be alive, there are moments when you think the arrow should've finished the goddamn job; not only because you wouldn't now be enduring the little stabs and jabs of pain all along your chest and shoulder, but also because it would be a lot easier to avoid the unspoken question in Frank's eyes.

Why'd you do it?

It seems ever-present, that inquiry he won't voice. It lingers on the surface each time he looks your way, and that's something he's been doing a lot lately. Actually… He's not so much been looking your way as he's been hovering nearby, adopting what you can best describe as a hands-on approach to your convalescence. You have half a mind to start calling him Nurse Castle just to ease the tension in the air, but something about the care he relentlessly shows always makes the words die on your tongue.

He's so… heart-wrenchingly affectionate. Like he can't think of anywhere else he'd rather be than here, changing your bandages and replacing the damp cloths for your forehead every time the fever returns. Frank is constantly there.

Helping you eat.

Pulling your hair back from your face when you can't manage to keep the food down.

Supporting more than half your weight as you take tentative steps for the first time in a week.

You've never relied on somebody else like this. The funny thing is, you don't even have it in you to complain or outright reject the help. It says a lot about what nearly dying provokes in a person, even (and perhaps especially) one as independent and self-sufficient as you are. At your core, you're exhausted. Being an island is not for the faint of heart, and you're finding out now just how susceptible that flutter in your chest is to kindness.

Frank has nothing to show but kindness. In the hours after Curtis' departure, you thought you were imagining it; you very well could have been, since the delirium was just barely winding down. Sleeping through the night hadn't been an option, both because you were in too much pain and because you had to be woken at fixed intervals to check the state of the infection. Frank — you know this for certain — did not sleep. Much like a sentinel, he was at your bedside, alert and frowning so deeply that you felt compelled to reach out and smooth the creases in his forehead. You're willing to chuck that one up to the fever, though you still can't quite erase the feeling of his skin from your mind. After that, you assumed nothing more would happen and he'd leave you be. But then, there were the other things.

The breathing exercises that he wouldn't let you skip, because the arrow had just barely nicked your pulmonary artery.

The ensuing exhaustion that he countered with a gentle hand as he helped you lie down, massaging your legs to keep the blood flowing while you were on strict bed rest. You said nothing in response, since the pain and dread always knocked you out in less than a minute. Or at least, that's what you told yourself, but your subconscious was of a different opinion as it painted brown eyes and strong arms over a blank canvas.

For the first two days or so, you awoke with his eyes on you and went to sleep with a quiet reassurance that you'd be alright. He must have seen how scared you actually were, because Frank rarely spoke so candidly or vulnerably.

And scared, you are. Just not of dying.

No, you are scared of losing this. Whatever threshold has been crossed since that arrow pierced your chest, you and Frank are not going back to the way things were. Unfortunately, you're not doing so well with identifying what exactly it is that's changed; still, whenever you can muster enough brain power to contemplate this new thing between you, it looks awfully similar to what people do when they're—

"Have you eaten, sweetheart?"

There it is again, that word. It's been falling from his lips in a somewhat steady fashion, now and then replaced by a soft hm that you felt was somewhat forced; like he was stopping himself from saying something else instead. For your part, the word simply washes over you like a wave of calm, and more often than not, you let it. It's only once or twice that your pulse picks up after he says it, and always when he's so close that you can almost feel the warmth of his skin. It's soft. Slow.

Intimate.

"Think you already know…" you mumble teasingly, alluding to him keeping you on a rigorous meal schedule. You've lost weight in the past week, barely able to keep food down for the first half of it.

Frank has done his best to provide better food than you'd usually get in your current living arrangements. He often goes out and returns with a day's worth of meals, and on Saturday he hauled in a new microwave to replace the shitty one you've all been relying on for months. It sticks out like a sore thumb inside the space that you won't deign to call a kitchen. It's also probably the cleanest thing in this whole basement. You shudder.

"Cold?"

Your eyes snap to Frank's as you register his question, but you're surprised to see he's already bringing over a blanket. A smile blooms on your lips, and you're this close to teasing him again when a sharp pain seizes your shoulder. It's the usual one, so whether you expect it or not, it doesn't worry you. Frank, on the other hand…

"I'm okay. Promise," you say quickly, placing a gentle hand on his chest when he sits next to you on the bed. The blanket rests on his lap, and you motion for him to hand it over. You aren't cold, but you've found that Frank's nerves are eased when he has a task to focus on

"Breathin' alright?" he asks lowly, trying to get a look at your face as you're hunching in on yourself to ease the pain. As you suspected, he takes it upon himself to wrap you in the soft wool, another thing that you didn't have just a week ago. He's been bringing in comfort items now and then, half of which you have no idea how he even knew you'd want. It makes your heart ache, and it isn't because it almost got pierced by an arrow. You have to say something, because waiting like this is more uncomfortable than the literal hole in your chest.

"Frank, listen…"

"You'd tell me if you needed a doctor."

It's a question. You know it is, even if he doesn't phrase it as one, and it kills you to hear the doubt in his voice. For a moment, you almost walk back on your intent to clear the air. Frank deserves better than having his intentions questioned, but both of you deserve the truth even more. You need to know what this is.

"I'm really ok," you say, pausing to let another jolt pass. You bite the inside of your cheek briefly. "I just, you know— I want to know what's happening. And I know neither of us likes the speaking in riddles thing, so I'll just ask." The pain currents are easing up from the warmth of the wool. You sigh once they fade entirely. And then it's time to look him in the eyes.

"What are we doing?" you ask, voice as steady as you could make it.

Frank is shockingly cooperative.

"You mean you and me?" His voice comes out rougher than usual, and yet you find it so very soft.

Judging by his expression, it's clear as day that he understands what you meant. However, you're not so sure you're on the same page about what's been happening. What you see and want might be different than what he sees. What he wants.

"We don't have to do anything. It doesn't have to be something. You know I—" He stops then, looking away. He's turned his head so far left that you can't see his expression, but you barely have time to wonder what you're missing before his eyes are back on you. Somehow, they're a bit different. Brighter, but there's pain there now. You don't even flinch this time when your first instinct is to want to take it away.

"My family's gone because of what I did. Yeah? They're gone—"

"Frank—"

"—because of what I know. Who I took orders from. Those people are still out there, and I thought, I thought that there was nothin' else they could do to get—"

You wait. Silently, patiently, you sit there until a tentative crack widens into a gaping chasm.

"I can't do that again. I can't— can't go through that again. Not with you."

It's a mutter that he keeps echoing, but the reverb is all in your chest. You don't know if you can believe what your heart says to believe, because after all, she's a bit tender at the moment. Susceptible to all kinds of trouble. But even your brain is trying to chime in with the most unlikely of outcomes: that Frank is equating your potential death to the one other thing in his life that he barely survived. The one other thing that left him with nothing but blood and rage and a sense of accomplishment he can only achieve when he puts a bullet in someone.

"Can't what? Lose me?" you ask softly.

"That's right." It's so quiet you can barely hear it, but he's holding your gaze steadfast. There's no doubt about his conviction.

A tear escapes unbidden and is wiped from the corner of your eye just as quickly. You sniffle.

"Well, I love you too. So there," you throw out. Despite not having truly cried, you voice sure sounds like it. It's why this time you're the one who avoids looking at him, but this results in not seeing his next move until it's already underway.

It's just a whispered c'mere and a solid chest against your cheek, but it's more than enough. It's a confirmation that you know Frank can't give you, or rather, one he can't give a voice to, for fear of history repeating itself. You aren't hiding out in a bunker because things are going swimmingly, after all. Just over a week ago, you were almost taken out by (posteriorly) friendly fire. Frank isn't taking that risk again; you're more sure of that than you are about the sun rising tomorrow. Until everyone he's hunting is dead and buried — limbs fully attached optional — he won't address this thing between you with any more than an acknowledgement. That's what he's trying to offer you now, as he holds you close and presses a soft kiss into your hair, and then another.

"We'll figure it out," he mumbles, the words sending a shiver down your spine. The promise in them is clear as day.

He's not saying no, you notice. Somehow, there remains a sliver of hope in both of you. Whether that's founded or fanciful, you don't much care. As your eyes get heavier and your breathing evens out, all that's really on your mind is a simple question Frank may or may not answer. You ask anyway.

"What did it, just out of curiosity?"

"Did what?"

"When did you… well."

You snuggle further into him, and his arms carefully tighten around your waist.

"If you mean which of your nonsense got my ass hooked, I ain't tellin'."

You laugh softly, almost trembling with giddiness in his embrace before pressing as close as your wound will allow. You barely resist the urge to burrow your face into his neck.

"It's alright… I'll figure it out," you tell him, smile stretching delicately. "We have time."

-fin-

A/N: A little companion piece to go with the first one-shot, just to wrap things up a little better.

#frank castle x reader #frank castle x you #frank castle imagine #frank castle #the punisher x reader #frank castle fanfic

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darkdisrepair · 2 years

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though i honestly was rooting for them to use revivify on laudna, the decisions made make a lot of sense. laudna has been resurrected before, by unnatural magic. she has come back before. there are ways and people that they know can bring her back (even assisting delilah)

and, like many people have said, fearne would realistically have chosen orym, who means so much to her.

and isn't it poetic, how at the end of this devastating fight against otohan, where so much suffering occurred, for everyone, when the dust settles, the surviving party member who comes out the worst is imogen, despite the fact that two exu characters were the ones who everyone was worried about, despite the fact that no one even really thought about what could happen if laudna failed her death saving throws.

in the end, the person who loses the most is imogen. forced to lose control in the most awful, painful, terrifying way that you could possibly imagine, surrounded by dead loved ones and knowing that they were dead because of her.

she's forced to cope with all that guilt and all that pain without the person who understands her the most, and she's almost certain that losing laudna is the worst part of it all. not the power, stirring hungrily inside of her, but knowing that the cost of that power was her best friend, her person.

it's so heartbreaking because you know, that if laudna were alive, imogen would have something to cling on to. hope. reassurance. instead, she's left on the floor of a cellar with all this power and all this weight on her chest, scared of herself, scared of the future, scared of otohan-

and scared to go to sleep, for fear that she'll see laudna in the storm this time.

we all knew there was going to be a cost to the battle. i had a hunch that someone was going to die- but laudna dying? how tragically beautiful that in the end, the very person whose fatal injury was what pushed imogen over the edge, effectively saving the group, was the person that died.

the person that imogen cared the most about.

how ironic, that the only person that they cannot bring back is the person that imogen broke everything for. her favorite.

#critical role #critical role spoilers #critical role meta #cr spoilers #campaign 3 #campaign 3 spoilers #imogen temult #laudna #imodna #orym of the air ashari #fearne calloway #laudna x imogen

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seulszn · 9 months

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ΚΕΦΑΛΑΙΟ I. The Island of Love and Purity.

“Aphrodite has blessed me with her beauty and I do nothing but thank her” you whisper to the women laying around listening to the new stories Petroula has to share on her adventure. “The Romans are at war again. My father told me that there are gonna be new people coming to the island as a safe haven” she spoke gracefully as if the news being said was good. That caused a uproar in the room full of girls

“Αυτό είναι απαίσιο!” (This is terrible)

“Ένας πόλεμος? Η κυρία Αθηνά βοήθησέ μας” (A war? Lady Athena help us)

“Ο Δίας σώσε μας όλους” (Zeus save us all)

Everyone is yelling back and forth not knowing what to do. “Alas it can’t be that bad!” you say with a small bit of confidence that you have. Everyone turns to you laying out on the floor with the purple Peplos covering only the bottom part of your body “I believe Y/N is right” Petroula answers back before reaching into something and pulling out a scroll.

She opens it before reading “It says that mothers, kids, and injured men will be coming to the island to stay out of the war happening on their island” she reads as a girl you know by the name Konstantina raises her soft hand “once the war is over will they be returning?” she asks as Petroula reads over the paper in hand. “It does not say” she answers once again and Konstantina groans.

You can feel her pain having to open up your home to people who have nowhere to go, no money, and no food all because of a war it was something you didn't imagine doing. “Imagine all the people we could meet!” Petroula brings up trying to change the mood Konstantina stays silent.

“All the different men, women that come here with gifts of gratitude,” she says, grabbing ahold of a woman right by her and smiling at her. “Imagine all the diseases they carry,” Korina says with narrowed eyes, scaring everyone. “But think about all the medicine we have that can cure” Petroula adds as Korina rolls her eyes. You don't say anything just thinking about what people you're gonna open your arms to. Stretching on the floor you look above at the morning sky “I hope whoever I get is nice and kind just like me” you whisper before laying up.

“Why such happy spirits Y/N? This does not scare you at all?” Kyveli asks looking over at you concerned “I am scared but if I wipe away that scariness with happy thoughts all my fear of what is going on goes away.” you smile getting up and wiping your Peplos clean “I wish I was like you Y/N” Petroula says as the woman crowded all around her nod. You smile at Petroula before looking over at a group of Guards and Police officers march over they are holding weapons and if your not mistaken you see your father in the front leading the crowd of men and women over to you they stop saluting

“Y/N my youngest daughter, what are you doing here?” he asks look at all the women around you he grabs ahold of your arm pulling you towards him. He scans down your face with a guess to check if you’re hurt and you turn your face away as he starts to kiss your face out of worry “Daddy I am ok just hanging out with Petroula and listening to her stories” he doesn't listen too worried about you. You're the youngest child and your parents are a lot more protective of you then they are of any of your other siblings. Your mother says that since you're blessed by Aphrodite the world isn't a safe place for a woman like you.

“I just want you to be safe that's all dear” your father answers with a smile on his chubby face you answer him with slight annoyance “I am safe father” he shakes his head no “you are not safe, none of us are their is a war going on and people are dying left and right” he says as the women behind you start to panic once again you don’t say anything, no you don’t know what to say so you just stay silent your father looks at your disappointed face before kissing your forehead “don’t worry so much dear your father will always protect you’ he stated before turning to his team and directing them away from the area.

Your father walks off except for a tall blued haired girl in a police uniform who looks over at you in familiarity and a small smile on her face. She's pretty cute you've seen her around polis (a city-state) a couple times before she's the Kiramman’s daughter her mother is a really good friend of your mother they teach children and help around the polis and her father was close to your father but you never knew or met their daughter mainly because of a “important mission” she was or went on. Through the two encounters that you guys had you thought she was really nice. She always smiles when you're around and always wants to be as close to you as possible.

She slowly walks over to you before stopping right in front of you. She bows her head in respect since you are her boss's daughter. You smile at her before fixing her shirt collar. She blushes at the kind gesture and thanks you. You smile turning to Petroula and seeing her and the other women pack up to leave “I was wondering if I can show you something” the Blue haired girl offers clutching onto your hand and slightly tugging you. The girl waits for your face to veer around to her so she can look at the eyes that she loves so very much.” Show me what?” you ask as the girl smiles before dragging you away she keeps your hand close as possible to her body looking around at the day that everybody is starting.

Waving at all the people you don't notice the girl staring at you. “What are you looking at?” you hum before she looks away out of embarrassment you giggle softly as she continues on the walk. She takes you to a nearby flower garden and lays down on the grassy plain and pats the ground right next to her initiating that she wants you to sit down, you obey sitting down. “I find it rude” you answer as she stares at you confused you smirk scooting over closer to her “I never got your name” you state as she avoids contact eye out of embarrassment. “Caitlyn- Caitlyn Kiramman” she introduces as you smile, finally having a name to a beautiful face.

“How is working with my father going?” you ask as Caitlyn shrugs her shoulders before laying back on the grass “he can be quite a handful” she answers as you nod in understanding your father can be very difficult to work with you don't understand how anybody can do it your father expects everyone to be perfect and is huge when it comes to competitions. Every race, every fight he expects his sons to be number one. “I thought this lifestyle would be so easy, fighting crime, arresting criminals, and making reports but it's probably one of the most toughest thing ever,” she says groaning “I should have taken my parent's advice and became A teacher,” she adds.

“Well I think you're doing a great job” you answer

“Y-Y-You think so?” she stutters choking on her words you laughing and bobbing your head “I mean no woman would ever pick to be a police officer so you're setting a good example for a lot of young women” Caitlyn smiles before drawing circles on your bare arm “just because you think I am doesn't mean everyone else thinks the same way” she stated “why care what other people think? Isn't your dreams more important than a thought someone has?” you answer laying down on your side facing the girl and hands under your face.

You enjoy the small talk you have with Caitlyn you never really had people out there you can talk too so this meant a lot to you and it meant so much to Caitlyn as well. She has a crush on you. She's never seen a woman so beautiful in her life. Will she ever tell you? maybe one day but right now she thinks it's only right to get to know you. “I might have to help out with the war happening on an Island nearby” Caitlyn trembled out of fear. You nod your head remembering “I hope nothing but a safe return” you wish as the girl nods her head.

“I'll come back safe and in your arms” she crooned caressing your face you smile melting into the touch “in my arms? We barely know each other silly” you giggle stretching out Caitlyn snickers before answering “we don't need to know each other to love and comfort each another” she's right you know she is but instead of agreeing you decide to tease her a little. “How do you know if I'm a comforting like person?” you ask as Caitlyn just stares at you not responding “I know you enough to trust you” she adds before sitting up and looking down at you. “Come with me I gotta show you something” Caitlyn says pulling you up and dragging you down the flower garden and to the edge of the island.

“When the war ends I wanna leave Lesbos and move to Rome” she points at a small island and you nod your head before a voice to the left of you speaks “Rome isn't so free like Lesbos your better off staying here” a pink-haired girl speaks walking over to you guys Caitlyn moves you a little closer to her body for protection as the girl throws her hands up in defense. “Have you been to Rome before?” you ask as the girl shakes her head.

“Just heard a lot about it” the girl answers back sitting down on a rock and looking at the waves clash with the shore you take in her appearance pink hair, tattoos and a small scratch on her lip “I've always wanted to go to Cyprus” she states looking up at the two of you guys you sit down besides her “I heard the people live rich” she spoke fixing her short Chiton. She smirks at herself “imagine living like that? Rich” She says as Caitlyn sits besides you and mumbles something under her breath. “After this war I wanna run away, far far away from here” the girl spoke, laying her head on your lap. “I'm Voiet but you can call me Vi” she introduces

“Like the flower”

“…Yea like the flower” she blushes, Caitlyn introduces herself to Vi as do you. The sound of the waves calms you down that you almost forget all the problems happening just being here makes you happy. “Do you guys believe in soulmates?” Vi asks as you nod your head, Caitlyn doesn't she just stares at the ocean “do you think there's a limit to how many people get a soulmate?” Caitlyn decides to focus on the conversation “I feel like if a group of people really feel that connection like a soulmate does then that makes them soulmates as well” you look down at Vi a girl you just met five minutes ago glancing up at you as if she has known you for years and years. “Do you think we are soulmates?” she asks as Caitlyn looks over at Vi.

“We just met, we can not be soulmates” Caitlyn replies before bringing you into her embrace “then why do I feel like we have known each other for years?” she responds “we do not even know each other's favorite color, and you are already bringing up this soulmate nonsense” Caitlyn scoffs.

My parents got married two weeks after they met each other” you put out as Vi and Caitlyn look at you. It's true your parents thought they were soulmates so they asked the gods above if marriage is something they should do and a day after that they had a wedding they always tell you that story and you find it to be cute “I don't believe in Marriage” Vi says as Caitlyn nods in agreement. “I believe in a promise” Vi comments “as in a promise ring?” Caitlyn questions as Vi nods her head. “I wanna make a promise, a promise that no matter what happens we will find our way back to each other no matter what” Vi states

You look up at the sky before smiling “I promise” Caitlyn doesn’t say anything too afraid that if she says those two words she might actually break that promise. She felt stupid making a promise to a girl she just met she was willing to risk her life for you but for Vi? That’s something she would have to think about and by the look of her she looks like trouble. She gets brought out of her thoughts by you placing your hand on her cheek “do you not promise?” You ask as Caitlyn shakes her head afraid of saying yes.

“I have to think about it”

“I have to think about it” Think? Think faster

“I have to think about it” Life’s are on the line

“I have to think about it” Why? Give them a answer before it’s too late

She has to think quickly cause at this very minute on a island people are dying, crying, starving, and begging for help. And your father is sending his soldiers off and he is looking for Caityln at this very moment to assign her a post for the war. Think Caitlyn Think if you don't give them a answer your gonna regret it “Come to my house for dinner and by then I should have my answer” she invites with a small fake smile on her face.

#bellaxellie #vi arcane #greek mythology #greek stories #caitlyn arcane #caitvi x reader #arcane #arcane x reader #caitlyn kiramman #arcane vi x reader #caitlyn kiramman x reader

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