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#he is condemned in the eyes of fandom
tockamybeloved · 3 months
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Considering Canon Fate & Justice
First, my thanks to this post and tags within, which prompted me to write out and share more of my thoughts on Ronghao's canonical ending. (Please forgive any errors. I will try my best to keep on topic since while writing this out many thoughts developed about other critical interactions. Welcome to hear and share other thoughts / discussion / or if you think I missed a point. These are all personal opinions and my interpretation of the work of art.) While discussing his ending in canon (and redemption) or if there was a way within the show to change Ronghao's nefarious deeds, I think he had no reason to change his plans and the ending was fitting.
Revive His Shifu at All Costs, Restore Her to Her Rightful Place
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(Look at this face. This is peace. This is heart-swelling pride at seeing his goal reached)
Once Chidi was reinstated as god of War, he viewed his plan as complete success. 
What is troubling - he did not anticipate (and this drove me mad regarding the show's writers) how disintegrated her spirit would become by being kept alive by evil qi. There was no other way to end their story. She would have continued to kill, and Ronghao would have supported her. He felt some guilt at killing the 3000 guards, and the villagers they came across, but admits even if she were to kill him, he’d do the same again.
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In their last scene in the courtyard he is willing to let her take his life. He drops his sword. He is offering himself. He was expecting her to kill him and take his qi (which also was tainted). Initially his self sacrifice was the same plan he always had: keep Chidi alive. (There is also more to be said about how when he confesses to her that he has brought Tai Sui with him, he is trying to get her to hate him. He doesn't want her to feel guilty to for taking his life. Yet he also tosses her sword away when the moment comes.) Yes, he goes into that courtyard wanting to do whatever it will take to now never be separated. But how will that play out?
Then we come to that heartbreaking moment when he falls to his knees. 
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Once he understood she "had a mortal heart" for him, her own death at his hand made more sense. Ronghao understood himself to be the one to take her life this time. He may have hoped just seconds before that there was another way. ‘She has to die in every life for her beloved one.’ I think this is the reason he decided to kill her. To fulfill her fate. To close the cycle. Not to stop her from destroying more of Shuiyuntian or fairies or whatever, but to complete her Fate. It’s not a ‘mercy’ to kill her, but enacting the last line of her destiny. Chidi asked Siming how to change fate. The reply was: 'The Dead cannot be revived - that is the law. If you must bring someone back, it will bring disaster. Chidi knew the price for bringing Ronghao back from the dead would doom her. The pure understanding from Ronghao in this moment!
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The final moment, when he will pay the price for himself *and* Chidi, is the only time he dares to touch her face. (Yes, this act too is another topic for a separate post.)
Tai Sui's Lie: A Factor in Ronghao Destroying His Primordial Spirit
So yes, in the show, there is no other way for it to end. Chidi must die and he 'sort of' redeems some of the things he's done by sacrificing himself in front of Tai Sui. I suppose he thought destroying his primordial spirit would weaken Tai Sui, or injure him. OR: It’s not impossible to think Ronghao would see it this way: Tai Sui would eventually die / be locked away since Ronghao now refused to be controlled and provide him with evil qi and Chidi could not be Tai Sui's vessel. Because that's the line Tai Sui had been telling Ronghao for 30,000 years. Without the evil qi, Tai Sui 'dies' (although we know this is a lie). Ronghao goes to his death believing he will help destroy the evil god and in a way this act does redeem Ronghao, because he believes no one else can refine evil qi and feed Tai Sui and he doesn't understand Tai Sui will eventually seek out and find another vessel. (again, confused by this choice of the writers to make Ronghao so short sighted here)
Chidi accuses Tai Sui of bewitching Ronghao, which the evil god counters as: 'No, I just gave him hope.' 
In the end, Ronghao does what he originally intended when he brought Chidi’s body to the cave in the first place.
Ending Thoughts Storytelling wise, their ending in the show makes sense. It is less about Justice, and more about no matter what - having no choice in what Fate has planned. It is predestination with the only variables being how long it takes you to get there, and by what means. You can take any road you want - the end is already predetermined.
*referenced: Ep 7, 26, 27, 32, 34
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Thank you @moonsorchid and @justarabidlittleyingzhao for sparking these thoughts. (I hope you don't mind the tag! If you do, let me know and I will remove it.)
(now back to writing my fic and changing Fate. Because as is the show's central message: Only Love is not Fate) Bonus gif because ANGST
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twelve-forfend · 5 months
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Well, I did say this was a multi-fandom blog... Alright, let's do this.
The Qing Jing Peak Lord's Bamboo House
(and the symbolism therein, as recorded in the donghua)
I was snooping through the establishing shots of the Qing Jing Peak Lord's Bamboo House, and had to laugh as I always do at all the gay symbolism that managed to sneak its way inside. But then I looked a little closer, and was floored by just how much passive storytelling was packed into background assets. I talked about it at length over discord, and at the urging of others decided to make a shareable post on social media as well.
First, the shots which first piqued my interest in this topic years ago:
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Shen Yuan transmigrates into the stallion-genre webnovel entitled 狂傲仙魔途 (translated as Proud Immortal Demon Way). The author's and his own usernames are dick jokes.
Notice the chrysanthemum vase, the cock vase, and the stallion statuette.
The stallion and cock are obvious nods to these jokes on their own, but for the uninitiated, the chrysanthemum is a symbol of gay sex between men, as the asshole itself is often euphemistically referred to as a chrysanthemum. This should have been Shen Yuan's first clue that not all is as it seems here! These are the personal quarters of Shen Jiu — the original Shen Qingqiu!
But let's move to the main room you first walk into upon entering the bamboo house.
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There it is: the writing on the wall.
As the Peak Lord of strategy and the scholarly arts, Shen Qingqiu would naturally have calligraphy and paintings hanging everywhere! So let's break it down.
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On the top we have 道㳒自然 ("Dao Follows Nature"), which comes from a Dao teaching by Laozi (founder of Daoism) meaning that life, death, the entire universe, the heavens and earth and everything outside and inbetween, all follow a set of laws referred to as the nature of things. Although unrelated to the Buddhist couplet below, it's certainly relevant!
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Originally hanging in right-to-left order, I've arranged them to read left to right here to make things easier to keep track of. The calligraphy reads 西方竹葉千年翠;南海蓮九品香 and is a couplet commonly found in Guanyin temples. My classical chinese is not as strong as I'd like, but this translates roughly to "The bamboo leaves in Paradise are green for a thousand years / The fragrance of lotus flowers in the South China Sea is as thick as 9 sticks of incense."
The character 西 for West is used to denote the destination of enlightenment/purity: the buddhist Paradise (think Journey to the West). The South China Sea is where Guanyin was born. Upon the Lotus flowers is where Guanyin is commonly depicted as sitting. The "9 sticks of incense" though literal can also refer to the 9 tiers/grades of reincarnation lotuses with the 9th tier being the lowest, meant for those who in life committed the most evil of crimes — the 4 parajikas — and who can only manage a sincere Amitabha recitation 10 times and no more than this.
To put this in context with Shen Jiu (the same jiu as in 9/九), the 4 parajikas committed by the 9th Tier Lotuses Reborn (officially entitled the Lowest of the Low) are:
Sexual Intercourse
Stealing
Murder
Claiming attainments of stages of pure mental concentration that have not been achieved (in other words, rushing or lying about your cultivation/enlightenment, or maybe even becoming a Peak Lord without having formed a golden core beforehand).
From what we know in the context of the novel, Shen Jiu is innocent of at least the first of this parajikas, but the overall view of Shen Jiu in the eyes of others in the story is that he is guilty of them all. This calligraphy can be seen as a condemnation or a reminder for the character Shen Jiu, who even as the Peak Lord Shen Qingqiu is widely thought of as a scum villain and the lowest of the low.
Phew! That's a lot to unpack.
But if you turn your gaze to the original screenshot, you'll see to the right that there's a vase painted with a blue bird. This vase appears in several rooms of the bamboo house, and seems to be the image of a qingniao (青鸟; lit: Qing bird, wherein 青 can mean blue/green/clear-but-brackish black).
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These qing-coloured birds are messengers and foragers of the Goddess-Mother of Paradise (Xiwang-mu 西王母, the "west/paradise" character from before, lit West-King(unisex)-Mother). They're a highly intelligent species who are exceptional in song (a good representative for Qing Jing's scholarly arts and pursuit of qin!), and the older ones might learn to speak human tongue. As a subspecies of luanniao (鸾鸟 lit: luan bird), they're thought to be related to The Phoenix and indeed thought to be the lifetime/samsara just before being reborn as a Phoenix.
If given to a "master" they don't like, the qingniao may refuse to pass messages or sing until they're set free, but if they do get along with you then they're loyal to the end.
As a point of interest, the Qing generation of Peak Lords uses the character 清, which is 青 ("colour of nature; brackish black, blue, green; young) + the radical for "water," resulting in the meaning of clear (as in water or heart; see-through); distinct; quiet (as in still); just and honest; pure; to settle or clear up; to clean up, expunge, or purge.
And as a bit of trivia, Liu Qingge's sword Cheng Luan 乘鸾 means "to ride the luan, take flight on the back of a luan." (Relevant, because the qingniao is considered a subspecies of luanniao).
With the Lords of both Qing Jing and Bai Zhan referencing this bird, I really wonder about its significance! It's spawning plenty of theories and headcanons for me.
Heading back outside for a moment, you'll find that in the Quiet Pool (清静小池 qingjing xiaochi (yes, the same Qing Jing the peak is named for)), there are lotuses, and on land there are flower shrubs which are either wide-petaled chrysanthemums (gay bottom jokes ahoy), or a type of peony, the king of flowers demarcating wealth and prosperity. Either way, a blossom fitting of our Qing Jing Peak Lord Shen Qingqiu!
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My one regret is that I cannot get a clear shot of the fan hanging on the wall to try and translate the calligraphy on it. If anyone can snag one, please tag me! I also couldn't translate the paintings with poems hanging in Shen Qingqiu's bedroom (it's just too small and blurry for my bad eyes to make out). If I make another post attempting these things, I'll append them to this initial post in an edit afterwards.
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hikarry · 5 months
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Badass Aziraphale is fun. We love to see him with all the divine wrath and playing the protector he was meant to be, blinded by love and duty. Eyes everywhere and flaming sword at hand ready to smite or confront anyone that dares step his way
And that's the version we see the most in the fandom. Vengeful angel Aziraphale Guard of the Eastern Gate raining righteous fury over anyone who dares harm Crowley
It's beautiful. Poetic even. I love it
BUT
There is nothing in this whole fandom that's more powerful and gorgeous than protective Crowley
That man knows what is like to lose the love of his life. He has lived it, for as brief as it might have been. All the despair, the lost of hope, the absolute loneliness. He has been there and that's a place he refuses to go back to
All the fear turned into rage. Ready to burn down Heaven and flood Hell to protect his angel. He might not be the strongest and he might not be a match for more than one archangel at a time, but he would rather die than let anyone take Aziraphale away from him again
He would become so blindsided by terror he wouldn't stop to think about the consequences. His only target is Aziraphale and Aziraphale only and he would pull any stunt to make sure he was safe and, do you wanna know the best part? This is canon
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We have snippets of protective Crowley all throughout season 2 but this scene? Oh boy, this scene
Crowley doesn't trust Gabriel. He tolerates him because he promised Aziraphale he would help, but he is on high alert
As soon as Shax shows up and threatens Aziraphale, he redirects his fear turned rage towards his main target: Gabriel. Because this is his fault. Beelzebub is looking for HIM. They/Heaven indirectly threatened Aziraphale with being erased from the Book of Life because of HIM. If something happens to Aziraphale because of this stupid charade he got himself involved with because he promised to protect Gabriel, Crowley will hold no punches
He's already full to the brim with the stunt Gabriel pulled during Aziraphale's "trial". Oh no, Crowley hasn't forgotten his words and his righteous smile while he condemned the man he loves to death even though some years have gone by and he is still furious about it
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He is a wrong step away from exploding and destroying everything that presents itself as a threat to Aziraphale in the moment.
He is so scared of everything (Gabriel, Beelzebub, Shax, Heaven in general, the Book of Life) that he spends most of the season compressed like a spring ready to pounce at the minimal real show of danger
The only reason he leaves Aziraphale with the demons in the bookshop to go and try to figure out what the absolute fuck is going on is exactly because the demons can't enter said bookshop and he trusts everyone present not to be stupid enough to let them in (I'm sorry, Maggie. I still love you babes)
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The worst part is: all his fury, all his rage and fear are useless in the end because Aziraphale walks into the danger willingly and Crowley would face anyone that tried to hurt his angel, but the angel himself
Don't get me wrong, he sees the danger. Maybe a tad to late. After the demons are gone and so is Gabriel and Beelzebub, he let's his guard down and allows himself to truly relax, planning their little breakfast at the Ritz
Because he thinks it's over. He was completely blindsided by Metatron. He himself says "Go angel. No problem. Can't get weirder than whatever the fuck just happened". Oh my poor sweet summer child
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But he does see the danger eventually and goes on high alert again, but it's too late. He would never hurt Aziraphale, but he pulls all the weapons on his arsenal to try and stop him from going where he can't follow. Where he can't protect him
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And he fails. Like he always feared he would. Not only showing his hand to Aziraphale in a desperate attempt to protect him but also losing him in the process with nothing he can do about it but watch his angel go until the very last second
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zapreportsblog · 8 months
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Can I request platonic Carlisle x child fem witch reader (like 14-15, she ages really slowly), Carlisle saved her from being killed during the Salem Witch Trials? He cares for her so much and since she’s the only one who sleeps in the Cullen clan, he sometimes watches her sleep as if protecting her or something. And he acts somewhat protective of her after finding out she’s Seth’s imprint?
❝the witch hybrid and her companion❞
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✭ pairing : father Carlisle Cullen x reader x imprint Seth Clearwater
✭ fandom : twilight
✭ summary : (y/n) is a young witch who Carlisle had saved from the Salem witch trials, she had been been on the verge of being fully brunt to death when he had grabbed and rescued her, she was fifteen when he had turnt her thus making her the first hybrid of both witch and vampire species.
✭ authors note : this shit so long I gotta make a part 2 because I wasn’t done writing
✭ twilight masterlist
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The year was 1692, and the small town of Salem was ablaze with fear and suspicion. The Salem Witch Trials had gripped the community, turning neighbor against neighbor, friend against friend. Whispers of witchcraft echoed through the narrow, winding streets like a curse.
In the midst of this hysteria, a young witch named (Y/N) found herself ensnared in the web of accusations. She was a mere fifteen years old, with (dark/light) (h/c) hair and hypnotizing (e/c) eyes that held the secrets of centuries past. Her magical abilities had manifested early, and she had done her best to hide them, but the fervor of the witch hunt had spared no one.
One fateful evening, as the moon hung low in the darkened sky, the town's fervor reached its peak. (Y/N) was dragged from her humble cottage by an angry mob, her hands bound, and the scent of burning wood filled the air. The townsfolk were determined to put an end to the supposed evil that had plagued their lives.
The makeshift gallows stood tall in the center of town, a grim reminder of the collective madness that had taken hold. A wooden stake awaited (Y/N), and the flames that danced around it cast eerie shadows on her pale, terrified face.
As the crowd jeered and cursed, the flames were lit, and the stake began to smolder. (Y/N) let out a piercing scream as the searing pain coursed through her body. She was on the brink of death, her skin blistering and her vision fading.
But then, a figure emerged from the shadows, moving with preternatural grace and speed. Carlisle Cullen, a vampire with a heart that still beat for compassion, could not bear to witness this gruesome spectacle. He had heard rumors of witches in Salem and had come to investigate, hoping to prevent further tragedy.
In an instant, Carlisle reached (Y/N)'s side. With a strength that belied his gentle appearance, he tore the wooden stake from her chest. The townsfolk gasped in shock as they beheld a young man of ethereal beauty and otherworldly strength.
Carlisle cradled the near-lifeless (Y/N) in his arms and vanished into the night, leaving behind the chaos and confusion of the mob. He knew that there was only one way to save her now—to grant her the immortality of a vampire.
As they fled into the wilderness, (Y/N) clung to consciousness, her body burned and broken. She whispered a faint thank you to the stranger who had appeared like a guardian angel in her darkest hour. Little did she know that this mysterious savior would change the course of her life forever.
In the moonlit forest, Carlisle Cullen made a solemn vow. He would teach (Y/N) to control her newfound powers, guide her through the complexities of immortal life, and protect her from the world that had once condemned her. Together, they would find redemption and forge a bond that would withstand the ages.
Carlisle had taken a great risk when he saved (Y/N) from the clutches of death during the Salem Witch Trials. He had severed ties with the Volturi long ago, seeking a life that adhered to his moral compass. His choice to create a vampire out of (Y/N), who still possessed her magical abilities, was a secret he needed to protect at all costs.
The struggles were immediate. (Y/N)'s powers, now amplified by her vampiric nature, were dangerously unpredictable. At times, her emotions would trigger bursts of magic that could send objects flying or set the forest ablaze. Keeping her abilities hidden from both the human world and the vampire authorities became an arduous task.
Carlisle spent countless nights helping (Y/N) gain control over her newfound powers. He was patient, guiding her through the nuances of her magic, teaching her to harness it without drawing attention. Together, they honed her skills in secrecy, for they knew that revealing her true nature could lead to disastrous consequences.
As the years passed, Carlisle and (Y/N) developed a bond that ran deeper than blood. They became a family of two, sharing their eternal existence and the burden of concealing her abilities. It was a lonely existence, but they clung to the hope that they could find others like them, vampires who shared their values and accepted (Y/N) despite her magical nature.
Their quest for companionship led them on a journey across the continent. They followed whispers and rumors, searching for those who might understand their unique situation. It was during this quest that they stumbled upon a coven unlike any other.
In a remote, wooded area, they encountered people on the verge of dying such as Edward, Esme, Rosalie, Jasper, Emmett, and Alice.
Together, they navigated the challenges of their unique existence, supporting each other through the trials of immortality and the constant threat of the Volturi's scrutiny. As they honed their abilities and shared their stories, they discovered the true meaning of family – a bond forged not by blood but by choice and shared values.
Their coven became a sanctuary, a place where each member could be their authentic selves without fear of judgment or persecution. And as they faced the world together, they knew that their unity was their greatest strength, a testament to the power of love, acceptance, and the enduring spirit of those who dared to defy the darkness that sought to consume them.
The year was 2005, and the town of Forks had remained a quiet, secluded haven for the Cullen family. (Y/N), now a hybrid of a witch and vampire, appeared eternally fifteen but was wise beyond her years. Her days were spent in the cozy Cullen home, where Esme provided her with a homeschooling education tailored to her unique needs.
Yet, there was a part of (Y/N) that longed for more than the confines of their home. She yearned for the normalcy of teenage life, for the bustling hallways of a high school, and for the companionship of her siblings. Carlisle remained as protective as ever, reluctant to expose her to the unpredictable world outside, but he couldn't deny her the occasional visits to Forks High School.
One crisp afternoon, (Y/N) stood by the school's parking lot, waiting for her siblings to emerge from their classes. She watched as the students filed out, their laughter and chatter filling the air. Her heart ached for the chance to experience such simple joys.
Suddenly, a tiny whirlwind of energy appeared before her, and she smiled as Alice materialized in front of her. Alice's golden eyes sparkled with excitement, and she greeted her sister with a grin.
"(Y/N), you won't believe it," Alice chirped, her voice filled with anticipation.
Arching an eyebrow, (Y/N) replied, "Believe what, Alice?"
With a playful twirl, Alice continued, "Life just got even more interesting in Forks High School."
(Y/N) couldn't help but be intrigued. "How so?"
Alice leaned in conspiratorially, her eyes gleaming with mischief. "There's a new girl at the school."
(Y/N) raised an eyebrow, intrigued by Alice's enthusiasm. "A new girl? Why is that so exciting?"
Alice's eyes widened as she explained, "Because, dear sister, this new girl is different. I've seen flashes of her future, and it's...uncertain. There's something extraordinary about her, something that might just shake up our tranquil little town."
(Y/N) considered Alice's words, her curiosity piqued. She had always trusted Alice's visions, and this revelation promised an unexpected twist in their otherwise peaceful existence.
As the rest of their siblings joined them in the parking lot, (Y/N) shared Alice's revelation. They exchanged glances filled with curiosity and anticipation. Life in Forks was about to become more intriguing, and the Cullen family was ready to face whatever challenges the new girl's arrival might bring.
The year was 2005, and the town of Forks had remained a quiet, secluded haven for the Cullen family. (Y/N), now a hybrid of a witch and vampire, appeared eternally fifteen but was wise beyond her years. Her days were spent in the cozy Cullen home, where Esme provided her with a homeschooling education tailored to her unique needs.
Yet, there was a part of (Y/N) that longed for more than the confines of their home. She yearned for the normalcy of teenage life, for the bustling hallways of a high school, and for the companionship of her siblings. Carlisle remained as protective as ever, reluctant to expose her to the unpredictable world outside, but he couldn't deny her the occasional visits to Forks High School.
One crisp afternoon, (Y/N) stood by the school's parking lot, waiting for her siblings to emerge from their classes. She watched as the students filed out, their laughter and chatter filling the air. Her heart ached for the chance to experience such simple joys.
Suddenly, a tiny whirlwind of energy appeared before her, and she smiled as Alice materialized in front of her. Alice's golden eyes sparkled with excitement, and she greeted her sister with a grin.
"(Y/N), you won't believe it," Alice chirped, her voice filled with anticipation.
Arching an eyebrow, (Y/N) replied, "Believe what, Alice?"
With a playful twirl, Alice continued, "Life just got even more interesting in Forks High School."
(Y/N) couldn't help but be intrigued. "How so?"
Alice leaned in conspiratorially, her eyes gleaming with mischief. "There's a new girl at the school."
(Y/N) raised an eyebrow, intrigued by Alice's enthusiasm. "A new girl? Why is that so exciting?"
Alice's eyes widened as she explained, "Because, dear sister, this new girl is different. I've seen flashes of her future, and it's...uncertain. There's something extraordinary about her, something that might just shake up our tranquil little town."
(Y/N) considered Alice's words, her curiosity piqued. She had always trusted Alice's visions, and this revelation promised an unexpected twist in their otherwise peaceful existence.
As the rest of their siblings joined them in the parking lot, (Y/N) shared Alice's revelation. They exchanged glances filled with curiosity and anticipation. Life in Forks was about to become more intriguing, and the Cullen family was ready to face whatever challenges the new girl's arrival might bring.
Edward had long been intrigued by Bella Swan, the human girl who had captured his heart. He knew the time had come to introduce her to his family, the Cullens. With a mixture of anticipation and apprehension, he arrived at the Cullen residence with Bella by his side.
The Cullen home exuded an air of elegance and tranquility as Edward and Bella entered. Carlisle and Esme, the matriarch and patriarch of the family, stood together, their welcoming smiles putting Bella at ease. Alice, as ever, bounced with enthusiasm, eager to greet the newcomer.
Rosalie, the beautiful but distant blonde, maintained her standoffish demeanor. Emmett, her jovial and easygoing husband, offered a warm and friendly greeting. Jasper, with his polite distance, appeared cordial yet reserved.
As Bella took in the room full of unique and ethereal beings, her nerves were palpable. Edward gently squeezed her hand, offering silent reassurance.
Edward turned to Bella, his arm draped around her, and gestured toward the youngest member of the family. "(Y/N)," he began, "I'd like you to meet Bella Swan."
(Y/N) stepped forward, her emerald eyes twinkling with curiosity and warmth. "Hello, Bella," she greeted with a genuine smile.
Bella returned the smile, though her gaze flickered with surprise as she took in (Y/N)'s youthful appearance. "Hi, (Y/N). Nice to meet you."
Edward, ever the attentive brother, chimed in, "Bella, (Y/N) is homeschooled. She's rather sensitive emotionally, and we want to ensure she's comfortable."
Bella nodded, not questioning the explanation, and (Y/N) added, "It's lovely to meet someone new. I don't often get the chance to make friends outside the family."
As the conversation flowed, Bella and (Y/N) discovered shared interests. They both had a deep love for nature and a passion for ballet. They exchanged stories about their experiences, and (Y/N) found herself drawn to Bella's genuine and kind-hearted nature.
Alice, always eager to foster connections, joined in their conversation with her trademark enthusiasm. Jasper remained observant but distant, his empathic nature making him cautious around newcomers. Rosalie, on the other hand, kept her distance but couldn't help but sneak occasional glances at Bella, her curiosity getting the better of her.
As the evening unfolded, the Cullens' initial uncertainties about Bella began to fade. It was clear that she brought a light into their home, and her connection with (Y/N) was a pleasant surprise.
Though the Cullens were a family of immortal vampires, they had managed to create a sense of belonging and unity. With Bella's arrival, the dynamics shifted once more, adding a new layer of complexity to their existence. Little did they know that this human girl would play a significant role in their future, bringing challenges and joys they could never have anticipated.
The bond between (Y/N) and Bella had grown stronger since their first meeting at the Cullen household. They shared countless hours talking about everything from books to ballet, and their friendship had become an unbreakable connection.
One sunny afternoon, Bella decided to introduce (Y/N) to a friend from her other life in Forks, someone who was quite different from the Cullen family. She took (Y/N) to the nearby La Push reservation, where she introduced her to Jacob Black.
Jacob, a tall and lanky young man with a warm smile, greeted Bella and her new friend with enthusiasm. (Y/N) was immediately struck by his friendly and down-to-earth nature. She found herself drawn to his easygoing demeanor, which contrasted with the graceful elegance of her vampire family.
As they sat in the shade of a towering tree, (Y/N) and Jacob began to chat. She learned that Jacob had a passion for fixing cars and motorcycles, an interest he'd picked up from his father. It was an unusual hobby for a young man on the brink of shifting into a werewolf, but Jacob loved the mechanical world as much as (Y/N) loved ballet and nature.
"(Y/N), you ever work on cars or bikes?" Jacob asked, his eyes lighting up with excitement.
She shook her head, intrigued by the idea. "No, I've never had the chance, but I'd love to learn."
Jacob grinned, his enthusiasm infectious. "Well, I can teach you if you're interested. We've got an old truck in the garage that's in need of some TLC."
Bella watched as her friend and her new friend connected over a shared interest. It was a heartwarming sight, seeing her worlds collide in such a positive way.
In the days that followed, (Y/N) visited La Push regularly to spend time with Jacob. She learned how to wield wrenches and navigate the inner workings of an engine. She watched with fascination as he effortlessly fixed motorcycles and patiently explained the mechanics behind each repair.
As (Y/N) delved into this new hobby, she couldn't help but notice the parallel between her time with Jacob and the moments she had observed between Rosalie and Emmett as they worked on cars together. She marveled at the beauty of human experiences and how they transcended the boundaries of her immortal life.
Her friendship with Jacob deepened, and she treasured the moments spent working on engines and sharing stories under the open sky. In those moments, (Y/N) realized that bonds could be formed beyond the supernatural world of vampires and werewolves, and that the connections she forged with humans were just as significant and meaningful.
The year had turned to 2006, and the bonds between (Y/N), Bella, and Jacob had grown stronger since (Y/N) started learning about cars and motorcycles with him. However, a shadow had fallen over their friendship.
Jacob had become distant, and Bella couldn't understand why. She was tired of being ignored, and one day, she decided to confront him with (Y/N) by her side.
They arrived at Jacob's house, and the atmosphere was tense. Bella knew something was amiss, and she was determined to get answers. As they approached the house, they heard roughhousing and laughter coming from the backyard.
Bella's frustration was evident as she muttered, "Enough is enough. I need to know what's going on."
(Y/N) nodded in agreement, her concern mirrored in her eyes. They made their way to the backyard, where they were met with an unexpected sight. Paul, Jared, and Sam, all shirtless, were playfully wrestling in the grass.
Bella's patience had run thin, and she spoke up, "Jacob, we need to talk."
The laughter ceased as the three boys turned to look at the girls. Sam, with his wisdom and responsibility as the pack's alpha, stepped forward. "What's this about, Bella?"
Jacob stood nearby, his expression guarded. Bella's frustration boiled over, and she finally confronted him, "You've been avoiding me, Jacob. I want to know why."
Jacob hesitated, his gaze shifting between Bella and his pack members. But it was Paul who decided to speak, his voice dripping with sarcasm, "Well, maybe it's because we've got more important things to do than hang out with vampires."
Bella's eyes widened in shock. She had heard the legends, but this was the first time someone from the Quileute tribe had openly referred to the Cullens as vampires.
A tense silence hung in the air, broken only by Jared's uneasy cough. Jacob's features hardened as he faced Bella, the truth finally out in the open. "Yes, Bella, we know what your family is. We know they're the cold ones."
(Y/N), who had remained quiet until now, felt the tension rise to a breaking point. Her magical abilities had always been a closely guarded secret, but she couldn't stand by as the situation escalated.
Before anyone could react, Bella, driven by anger and hurt, slapped Paul across the face. It was an instinctive reaction, but the consequences were immediate. Paul's body began to tremble, and within moments, he transformed into a massive, russet-colored wolf.
Chaos erupted as the other wolves reacted, growling and snapping at the sudden threat. Jacob, acting on instinct to protect Bella, shifted into his wolf form and leaped between Paul and the girls.
(Y/N), her magical powers flaring to life, sensed the impending danger. She stepped forward, raising her hands, and a shimmering magical shield sprang into existence, surrounding Bella and Jacob, protecting them from the agitated wolves.
The standoff continued for a tense moment until Sam, as the pack's leader, barked a command, and the wolves reluctantly backed down. (Y/N) slowly lowered the shield, and the tension in the air dissipated.
Bella and Jacob were left staring at each other, the truth now laid bare.
The tension in the forest eased as Sam, the alpha of the Quileute wolf pack, intervened and calmed the agitated wolves. He beckoned everyone to follow him back to his cabin, where they could talk more openly.
Jacob turned to Bella, his expression pained. "Bella, try not to stare at Emily too much."
(Y/N) caught Jacob's words and glanced at Bella with curiosity. She followed Jacob's gaze to a woman named Emily who was standing nearby. Bella's reaction was immediate; she was taken aback by the scars on Emily's face.
As they entered Sam's cabin, Bella couldn't help but ask, "What happened to her?"
Sam, understanding the girls' confusion, began to explain. "Emily's scars are a result of a shifter's transformation gone wrong. It's a risk we face when we shift. Sometimes, accidents happen."
(Y/N) listened intently, and as she looked at Emily, her mind flashed back to her own past. She remembered the pain of the flames, the burns on her body, and the scars she had carried before Carlisle had turned her into a vampire. It was a painful memory she rarely revisited.
Sam continued, "We're not just ordinary humans, Bella. We're shape-shifters. We transform into wolves. We've known about the cold ones, the vampires, for a long time, and there's a history of conflict between our kind."
Bella's eyes widened, realizing that the tension between Jacob's pack and her family was deeply rooted. It was a revelation that left her with more questions than answers.
Then, Sam turned to (Y/N), his gaze intense. "And what about you? You smell human, but not quite."
(Y/N) hesitated for a moment before she decided to share her truth. "I'm not just a vampire. I'm also a witch. Carlisle turned me during the Salem Witch Trials to save my life, but I retained my magic."
The room fell silent as Sam processed this revelation. The other members of the pack, including Paul, who had calmed down, overheard the conversation and entered the cabin.
Paul, still uneasy about (Y/N), voiced his concerns. "Sam, she's dangerous. A vampire-witch hybrid? Who knows what she's capable of?"
Sam raised a hand, silencing Paul. He turned back to (Y/N), his eyes steady. "Explain. How do you use your magic?"
(Y/N) took a deep breath and began to recount the story of the Salem Witch Trials, how she had been condemned, and how Carlisle had turned her to save her life. She spoke of the magic she had retained and how she had learned to harness it, to control it.
As her story unfolded, the tension in the room began to ease. Sam and the rest of the pack listened with rapt attention, realizing that (Y/N) was not a threat but someone who had suffered and survived against all odds.
As the conversation in Sam's cabin continued, the atmosphere began to relax, and the tension that had filled the room started to dissipate. The Cullen and the Quileute pack shared stories and experiences, forging a fragile understanding. However, a new presence entered the room, and the dynamics shifted once more.
The door swung open, and Seth Clearwater entered, a sheepish smile on his face. "Sorry I'm late, everyone. Got caught up in patrol duty."
He started to explain further but stopped abruptly as his eyes locked onto (Y/N)'s. Time seemed to stand still for Seth as he made eye contact with her, and a series of vivid flashes inundated his mind.
He saw himself dating (Y/N), their laughter echoing through the forest as they went on hikes, their hands intertwined. He saw tender moments of them kissing under the moonlight, their love stronger than anything he had ever imagined. He even saw himself undergoing a transformation, becoming immortal through (Y/N)'s magic, so they could live out their lives together.
The sudden influx of images left Seth bewildered, his heart racing. He stumbled over his words, his apology fading into silence. It was as if a veil had been lifted, revealing a future he had never known he wanted.
The room fell silent as everyone turned their attention to Seth. It didn't take long for Sam to realize what had occurred. He approached Seth, his expression knowing. "Seth, you've imprinted."
Seth nodded, still dazed by the overwhelming experience. He couldn't tear his gaze away from (Y/N), who had a bewildered yet sympathetic expression on her face.
Bella, having experienced imprinting with Jacob, understood the gravity of the situation. She leaned over to whisper to (Y/N), "It's a Quileute thing. He can't help it. It's like he's bound to you now."
(Y/N) nodded in understanding, feeling a mix of surprise and sympathy for Seth. She had witnessed how powerful imprinting could be and how it could affect someone's life.
Seth, still recovering from the shock, couldn't help but act like a lovesick puppy around (Y/N). He smiled at her, his gaze lingering, and his actions becoming increasingly attentive. It was clear that his world had shifted, and his focus had become solely centered on her.
The room settled back into conversation, but Seth's newfound devotion to (Y/N) remained evident. He was drawn to her like a magnet, his presence a constant reminder of the complexities of the supernatural world they inhabited.
As the evening wore on, the Cullen and the Quileute pack continued to exchange stories and experiences, but now there was an added layer of understanding and acceptance. The bonds forged between them grew stronger, and they realized that in a world filled with secrets and supernatural forces, connections could form in the most unexpected and profound ways.
Bella and (Y/N) headed back to the Cullens' house, the forest surrounding them bathed in the gentle light of the moon. Bella pulled up to the driveway, and (Y/N) stepped out of the car, her thoughts lingering on the revelations of the evening.
As she watched Bella drive off, (Y/N) couldn't help but feel a mix of emotions. She had made new friends, but she was aware of the complications that could arise from her interactions with the outside world. Her hybrid nature, a blend of vampire and witch, held secrets that she needed to protect.
Entering the Cullens' home, (Y/N) was immediately surrounded by her family. Carlisle, Esme, Alice, Edward, Rosalie, Emmett, and Jasper all gathered around her, their expressions a mix of concern and curiosity.
"Where have you been, (Y/N)?" Carlisle's voice held a hint of anger, but also a deep concern. He had always been protective of her, knowing the dangers of the human world and the risks associated with her true nature being exposed.
(Y/N) took a deep breath, her gaze meeting Carlisle's. "I've been hanging out with Bella and Jacob and some new friends I made."
Carlisle's concern deepened. "New friends? (Y/N), you know the risks. Your true nature, both as a vampire and a witch, could be exposed to humans."
(Y/N) nodded, understanding his worries but also eager to share her experiences. "I know, Carlisle, but I've been careful. And I've learned a lot about the Quileute culture and the challenges they face."
Carlisle couldn't help but feel a mix of emotions. He was angry that Bella had taken (Y/N) without informing anyone, concerned about the risks, but also happy that his daughter had made friends outside their family.
However, his world was about to be shaken once more. (Y/N) noticed the change in her father's demeanor and decided it was time to reveal the most significant development of the evening.
"I have something to tell you," she began, her voice tinged with a hint of infatuation. "I've been imprinted on."
Carlisle's eyes widened in shock. "Imprinted? By whom?"
(Y/N) smiled, a lovesick expression in her eyes. "Seth Clearwater."
The room fell silent as the gravity of the situation sunk in. Carlisle realized that his younger daughter had formed a bond that was far deeper and more profound than any ordinary friendship. He knew that an imprint was a powerful connection, one that couldn't be broken.
As (Y/N) continued to share the story of her evening and the imprint, Carlisle's world came crashing down. He had always known that his family's supernatural existence came with complexities, but the idea of his daughter being infatuated with a young shifter left him with a mix of emotions—concern, worry, and a touch of sadness for the challenges that lay ahead.
The Cullens, a family bound by love and acceptance, now faced a new chapter in their extraordinary lives, one that would test their bonds and their ability to navigate the intricate web of supernatural connections.
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When Our Stars Cross Paths; VI Treech x Mentor!Reader 🌲Treech’s POV🌲
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Pairing: Treech x Mentor!Reader
Word Count: 1.64k
Warnings: Cursing
Sweet Angels🪻: @nemesii @mrsyixingunicorn10 @chmpgneprblem @thxmiss @storiesofmyhead @valdezsttuff @nekee-lilac02 @shykittycat @aceofspades190 @holymotherfxrkingshirtballs @lostmoongoddess24 @nothing2113 @gracethg @primroseluna @multi-fandom-quote-chaos @cdragons @boreddemigodd @yazissupercool @baby-ditzzy
🎬Mood boards🎬
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******************Treech’s POV*****************
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He was about to throw up.
It had now been five hours that Treech had been stuck in this train, and the lingering stench of stale animal manure combined with the periodic shaking of the car was more than enough to make the boy nauseous.
He slowly slid down to the floor searching for some for of relief, legs aching for rest after the prolonged period of standing. It made him feel less vulnerable, standing. Treech didn’t have the faintest clue as to why, maybe it was his height that he felt gave him an advantage. Whatever the reason, whenever he had felt intimidated or threatened he usually found himself refusing to rest for hours on end, not realizing the toll it took on his body until he finally sat down. The air in the car was thick and humid and Treech soon found himself shifting to remove his wool coat, before remembering was this car was previously used for. He would rather suffer the sweltering heat than ruin what could very well be his only form of protection.
Protection.
A scoff escaped his mouth before he could stop it, causing Lamina to look up from where she had buried her face into her knees, hiding in the corner of the car. Her auburn hair was beginning to frizz and tears stained her cheeks as they spilled from her puffy eyes. She was young, at only fifteen she was too young to be condemned to this.
They all were.
The pair had known each other back home. Lamina often babysitting Treech’s younger sister, Hazel when him and his pa were working in the forests and his ma was running errands. The ginger girl had always been quite timid, only exchanging a few brief words every now and then with him, and even then her voice always remained soft and gentle, barely above a whisper. Hazel adored her though, always returning home from their escapades with friendship bracelets adorning her wrists and flower crowns in her golden hair. And Treech loved nothing more than to see his baby sister happy. He had always held a soft spot in his heart for all the women in his life, Hazel, his ma, even Lamina had grown to be a surrogate little sister in his eyes. Which was why it was devastating to hear her name echoed out during the Reapings. He remembered how she had failed to hold back her tears as she was marched onto the rickety wooden platform, peacekeepers unnecessarily close to the poor girl only scaring her further. He had been so caught up in his immediate dread at Lamina’s named being picked that he barely noticed that the boy’s name was being selected.
“Treech Laurier.”
Shock couldn’t even begin to describe how he felt in those first few moments. He was eighteen and as it was his last year in the Reapings, Treech hadn’t thought himself as likely to be picked. An eerie silence fell across the male enclosure as his classmates and neighbors turned to face him, all wearing identical pitying faces. Realizing that peacekeepers would approach if he didn’t start moving, he maneuvered through the rows of teen boys and into the aisle of the town square. He felt a gloved hand push into his back, a peacekeeper, incase he decided to make a run for it. But Treech did none of that, slowly marching towards the platform where Lamina and the mayor stood, it took everything in him to keep the tears from escaping his eyes as he turned to see cameras pointed at him from every angle. Like a fucking animal. He ascended the stairs of the platform, eyes casted on the ground and the mayor mumbled out a quick speech, only glancing up once prompted to shake Lamina’s hand. As he peered into the already swollen eyes of the young girl, Treech knew he would do anything in his power to protect her, even if it came at his own demise. However as he was coming to peace with this newfound promise, peacekeepers tugged at their arms dragging them away from the crowds of citizens just as quickly as they were reaped. The District seven pair were then escorted out of the town square, two peacekeepers crowding both of them on either side. Treech finally allowed the tears to flow from his eyes no longer caring if he appeared weak, and after a few minutes of trudging along the dirts roads of their district, they came to a dilapidated train, the tracks it stood on rusted over from a year of no use. The peacekeepers ushered the pair into one of the cars, nudging the butts of their rifles into their backs as they did so. The metal door slammed behind the two and before their eyes could adjust to the sudden darkness, they were moving, albeit rather slowly. The first few hours were torture, Lamina’s sobs only further cementing the realization of their likely imminent deaths, nearly bringing the older boy to tears for the second time that day. Eventually Lamina’s sobs and shaky breaths died down to whimpers and moans, and as he stood against the metal wall, Treech racked his brain for anything, any memory or thought that would draw his attention away from the train car, and the Hunger Games, and the poor miserable girl sitting a few feet away from him. So he started listing things, at first mumbling the names of his family members under his breath, each murmur bringing a new fond memory to the boy’s head. It didn’t take long for this list to extend to his friends, boys he had grown up with and laughed alongside during the long work days in the forests; subsequently places entered the whispered mantra, his secret spot in the woods down by the lake, his house, even his old school. Nearly two hours went by like this as Treech carried on with this spiraling list, continuing to name everything and everyone he wanted to come back to when a high pitched whistling, followed by a screech that of metal on metal shook the boys out of his thoughts.
They were coming to a stop.
Treech was quick to stand up, not wanting to be caught in a vulnerable position when the doors opened. He could hear people from outside on the platform, peacekeepers barking orders and tributes groaning as they disembarked, disoriented and confused. He pressed his ear against the metal of the car, attempting to survey his surroundings without actually seeing them. But beyond the booming commands of soldiers and the trembling voices of young tributes, he also heard a girl too. She couldn’t have stood too far away from his car, and her voice didn’t carry any hints of fear or aggression, so she didn’t fall into the two categories of people he had listened to previously. From what the tall boy could make out, she seemed to be having a friendly chat with someone a few feet away from the train. It was beyond Treech who she would feel comfortable enough to talk with like that, the peacekeepers back home weren’t notorious for being welcoming, and although he hadn’t met any of the other tributes yet, he doubted any of them would be in the mood to carry a lighthearted conversation. As the voice gradually got closer and closer, Treech found himself listening for it more and more, disregarding his previous mission of ease dropping on the people outside in favor of tracking the captivating sound.
Her voice sounded like sunshine.
Too busy being drawn in by the captivating words, Treech barely had time to register the metal door of the car screeching open as he fell into the wall, nearly falling directly out onto the platform. He brought his hands to his forehead, groaning at the collision that was sure to leave a bruise. He turned away from the wall and towards Lamina, who had started to peer out into the train station before swiftly retracting her head. She was too scared to go first, and she was definitely more likely to hurt herself on the jump down, with the entrance to the train car being around five feet above the platform. Big brother instincts taking over, Treech quickly made his way over to the now open doorway, eyes roaming across the vast train station—he was listen for or rather looking for the girl with the enchanting voice. Failing to see anyone who could’ve possibly been his mystery girl, he heaved himself onto the platform. He then turned back to face Lamina, offering her his hand, trying to convince the younger girl to trust him enough to exit the shadows of the car and to jump onto the platform. After a few seconds passed the redheaded girl emerged from the corner of the train, meekly taking his hand in her own as she hopped onto the platform, falling into his chest as she did so. Treech let out a sigh of relief, grateful for the stench free, albeit polluted air. Lamina seemed to be more at ease too, her sniffles becoming fewer and farther between as she took in her surroundings; fear slowly melting from her face as she caught glimpse of the other younger tributes, some even younger than her. However that all came crashing down when something or someone startled the girl enough to shrink away into the material of his jacket, a small petrified whimper escaping her lips.
Lamina cowered behind him, her frail hands clutching onto his coat as she peered from behind his back. For a split second, Treech became concerned that a fight had broken out between the peacekeepers and tributes and quickly moved closer to his partner in an attempt at protection, but when he turned around to see who was Frightening the young girl so badly, he found himself standing face to face with the owner of the enrapturing voice.
“Hi, You must be Treech! i’m Y/N, your mentor!”
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A/N
IM SO SO SORRY FOR THE LACK OF UPDATES. IVE BEEN STUDYING FOR EXAMS ALL WEEK AND THIS HONESTLY SLIPPED MY MIND. I PROMISE TO BE BACK ON THE GRIND. And I know this is really short, but as I continue to write this story I wanted to create small filler chapters where you get to learn more about Treech and his relationships with everyone bc I feel like that really isnt showcased in a lot of fics. Chapter seven is in the works right now and i’ll have is released by Friday!!!
XOXO
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bubblegumfanfictions · 5 months
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Perfect to Me |Astarion x Fem!Plus-sized! Reader|
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Fandom- Baldurs Gate 3
Ship- Astarion/Fem!Plus-sized! Reader
Warning(s)- fatphobia, negative thoughts about weight, mentions of Cazador, Swearing
Summary- Reader is upset after a rough day in Baldurs Gate, but Astarion proves that she doesn't need to be.
Word Count- 1,700
A/N- Sorry if this isn't perfect, it has been a while. But merry Christmas and Happy Holidays everyone! (I also changed the name of the fic)
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After a long and perilous journey through the Shadow Cursed Lands, The Underdark, and the Mountain Pass to gain allies you finally made your way to Baldurs Gate. The bustling streets and lively atmosphere was almost alien to you after so much time surrounded by nature.
The faces of your companions tell you all you need to know about how they feel at present. Disgust, Excitement, and Fear. You felt for Astarion, it must be terrifying returning to your old hunting grounds after so long, seeing the families of people he had condemned, but that wasn’t who he was now. You felt a fleeting sense of pride that your friend had promised the Gur he would help take down Cazador and find out what happened to their children– Whether they were alive or not is a whole different story.
Karlach on the other hand looked positively elated at being here. Her excitement was certainly infectious, You pause your thoughts and look over at the disgust on Lae’zel’s face, Well maybe not totally infectious. Although you did take note of a glint in Lae’zel’s eyes, she was interested but hid it well.
But even with Karlach’s excitement, you were nervous as all hells. You knew from experience that Baldurs Gate wasn’t a fan of people with your particular build (Well, unless you work in brothels or Burlesque shows but that is a different story.) Knowing what you know about Baldurs Gate you had prepared yourself before you left to expect some comments, looks and even some shoves.
You thought you had managed to keep your anxieties under control and to yourself but that wasn’t the case. Unbeknownst to you, while you were hyperanalysing everything out of nervousness, Astarion was keeping an eye on you. He’d never seen you so nervous- That might not even be the right word, terrified seemed to be the better term.
He didn’t know why you were so scared of everything. He had seen you take down an Orthon just so he could have the information that Raphael promised him. You didn’t have to do that but you did. When he asked you why you simply smiled and said “Because it was important to you.” So he didn’t understand your fears at all. Are you scared of big crowds? Of the idea that someone could jump you? No, thats not it, you’d look more alert than anything, not dazed.
After a few hours of walking around Astarion finally spotted what it was that was scaring you so much. He noticed the glares and whispers being sent in your direction. He was happy that you weren’t an elf because you wouldn't have liked the things he was hearing. He was physically restraining himself from ripping out these peoples throat. You were beautiful. Why couldn't they see that? Why couldn't you see that?
“Isn't she ashamed of coming out here?” Just breathe, Astarion. You'll be no good to the group in prison.
“She's much too big to be in with that lot.” Astarion kept his rage to himself, but he was sure the rest of his group noticed. After all you were connected by those wriggling parasites.
Eventually you all made your way to The Elfsong Tavern when the Emperor decided to reminisce about his time working with Duke Stalemane. Astarion didn't care though, not after noticing how vulnerable you looked, how upset and withdrawn you were.
He wondered if maybe you could hear some of the comments. Or if you were so used to the treatment that you knew what they were going to say.
Karlach barrels into the Tavern with all the grace of… well- Karlach. Finally getting to sleep in a proper bed for the night. Everyone was excited for it. After the trials they had all been through they deserved some much needed rest, even just for the day.
Karlach decided to go down into the Tavern to spend her night eating and drinking, Lae'zel went to the courtyard to practice. The group had discovered a temple with a link to Mystra and naturally relayed this to Gale so that's where he probably is. As for the others? You had no idea.
You took it upon yourself to kick your shoes off and practically face planted one of the beds in the room you rented, barely taking any notice of Astarion's eyes watching your every move.
The energy it took you to not burst out into tears in the streets had taken its toll on you, you were just ready to sleep.
Astarion moved over to you cautiously, for once he was lost for words. He didn't know what to say to you, should he acknowledge the elephant in the room or ignore it?
“Astarion? Are you okay?” You lift your heavy head to look at the handsome Pale Elf that was watching you. His eyes dance with uncertainty. He seemed deep in thought. “Astarion?” You say his name a second time and manage to catch his attention.
He shook himself from his thoughts “Oh, yes, Darling? What were you saying?” He thought his recovery was smooth but his discomfort still showed on his face.
You sit up and pat the spot next to you. Astarion smiled absentmindedly, even burdened by the thoughts of horrible people you were still thinking of others first.
Astarion sits next to you, “I'm fine, but are you. Don't think I didnt notice the way people were looking at you.” He paused, not knowing if he should let on that he heard what they were saying. “Or how they were… talking about you.”
You stayed silent, looking down at your hands. Like Astarion earlier you didn't know what to say. “You noticed that?”
He looked baffled, almost offended that you thought he didn't. “Of course I did! Why wouldn't I? This is you we are talking about Darling, it's so hard for me to not notice you.” He places his hand on top of yours.
The coolness from his hand is a stark contrast to the warmth of his words to you. “Tell me, why do you allow a few rotten apples to treat you so poorly.” He uses his other hand to brush some hair from your face that had fallen when your head lowered with sadness.
“Because its true. I'm nothing special, no one will ever love me the way I want them too. I'll be alone… forever.”
Astarion's heart shattered, he knew what it was like to feel so vulnerable, so self-conscious. He hated that your life in Baldurs Gate made you feel the same.
“Oh, Darling. I wish I could show you just how wrong you are. These people? This group that you brought together, they adore you, I adore you.”
“But why? I feel hideous.” Tears well up in the corner of your eyes, prompting Astarion to lift you chin with one hand and wipe your tears with the other.
“You are far from hideous my gorgeous gorgeous girl, I think you are beautiful, a walking piece of art. You do not deserve to be treated the way you are just because you don't fit in with their callous beauty standards.” The mixture of Astarion's kind words, the nasty glares, and your exhaustion caused you to break down, tears streaming down your cheeks.
Without missing a beat Astarion wrapped his arms around you in a clumsy hug. He could feel your shoulders shake as the tears (sadly) soaked his new doublet.
“You think I'm beautiful?” You sniffled, pulling your head away from his chest but maintaining contact. He may not be physically warm but his actions and words warmed you through.
“Of course I do. Why wouldn't I? I'm not blind, Sweetheart.” A soft smile painted on his lips. Astarion could tell that his words weren't really getting through to you, he knew that it would take a long time for you to finally feel good about yourself, but he can damn well try his best.
“But-” you attempted to say before Astarion shushed you, a finger gently pressed to your lips.
“No buts. I have been around for a long time, I have bedded more men and women than I can count. But you are by far the most beautiful being I have ever laid eyes on. You are so incredibly and unapologetically you and I would do anything in my power for you to see yourself the way I do.”
“But I'm not thin like other people, how can you say I'm beautiful when I look like this? ” He moved his finger down to your chin so he could tilt your head up.
“Because you are. You are the best thing that has ever happened to me, you're the best person for me. I don't want to imagine a life with anyone other than you in it. I adore you darling. I love you and I want you to be happy and I would love for it to be with me.”
Astarion could see your expression change to a more hopeful one. “You love me?”
“I do.” He responds, his eyes darting down to your lips and back to your own again. “Can I kiss you?” The question slipped from his mouth before he could think. You nod your head, still shocked by the sudden confession.
He slowly closed the gap between your lips, when they finally touched Astarion could sense all of your worries melt away. His free hand squeezing the thickness of your thigh as you shared a loving kiss. Astarions fangs brushing against your lips and occasionally nipping them as the kiss deepened.
“Fuck yes! Finally!” You both turned your heads, seeing Karlach stood in the doorway watching as the two of you kissed.
“Man Gale is going to be PISSED. He owes me 60 gold.” She senses the awkwardness she had just caused with her entrance and sheepishly backed away “Don't let me stop you, I was just leaving.”
She slams the door behind her but you could hear her yelling that she was going to be a rich woman and that she knew she had an eye for romance.
The two of you just laughed. This was perfect.
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fvckinaphrodite · 1 year
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You know those fics where Catelyn Tully Stark is depicted as this evil bitch who disrespect the North, its people, its culture, its Gods? That the Northmen hate her because she's one of the southern ladies throughout centuries that become the Lady of Winterfell and believe in the Faith of the Seven? That she somehow always insists for her children to stay away from their direwolves till the end? Where, I ask? Where tf those craps ever written in canon?! WHERE?!
Because I tell you I'm reading A Storm of Swords right now, and I find nothing of those shits. She's always courteous to the Northmen, even those who are huge-rawdy-closer to wildling type and don't give a shit about propriety like Greatjon Umber. She doesn't look down on Maege Mormont who fights just as good as men like those crap fics suggest. When Robb comes back to Riverrun from his campaign in Westerlands and they learn about what she's done, Maege sympathizes with Cat and tells her that she would've done the same if it were her daughters that's been taken. The Greatjon lifts her in the air and tells her some optimistic motivational words about how Robb gonna beat Jaime again. What else, she's horrified when Robb tells her that Grey Wind is not allowed inside the keep because he doesn't like Jeyne Westerling's uncle. She REMINDS Robb that Grey Wind is part of him, and BELIEVES that the Old Gods has sent the direwolves for her children to be their protectors. A chill literally "went through her" when she believes that Jeyne's uncle is not good for her son, all because Grey Wind also doesn't trust him (or as Robb says, "doesn't like the smell of him). She has to beg Robb to send Jeyne's uncle away.
All I'm saying is that, I won't give any Catelyn haters a minute of my life if I can help it. Just say you are a misogynist and be done with it. The fandom really hates her all because she refuses to mother a child that is not her responsiblity, that she owes nothing of. They hate her because she's just trying to save her remaining children--two little girls whom in the eyes of her eldest son worth next to nothing. Robb refuses to save his sisters, and when his mother takes matter in her own hands, they condemn her, as if they wouldn't have done the same thing in her position. It's so easy to see her as the obstacle to Robb's campaign, yet people tend to forget that any decent parent would do the exact same thing. Especially when ASOIAF universe is filled with murdered children.
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Till' death do us apart.
Pairing: Angel Y/n x Alastor Fandom: Hazbin Hotel Warning: Biblical nonsense. :}
Masterlist –– Next chapter
So this was caused by the absolute brain rot my love for the series has given me, 40% of the text I got it from the transcript of the first episode Overture, and Michael's text was brought by Hazbin Hotel: Journey to the Light, shoutout to the creator. It's a one time thing as to bring this sort of prologue.
As always, the characters mostly belong to Vivienne Medrano, and it is a fanfiction with no intention of offending anyone.
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Prologue
At the beginning, Heaven rose from the light of creation, it´s golden glow soon was to be known though out existence. It was ruled by beings of pure light, Angels that worshiped good and shielded the world from all evil.
Samael was one of the first angels. He was a dreamer with delusional ideas for all of creation, for this, he was seen as a menace. The elders of Heaven were brought to the conclusion that his way of thinking was dangerous to the order of their world.
The straw that broke the camel's back was when its creation, the forbidden fruit was placed in the hands of a mortal woman, this made the high command make the decision to banish Samael from heaven, causing the creation of the demonic place known years later as Hell.
The word 'Hell' was derived from an Anglo-Saxon word hellia, that meant wicked or evil.
Samael’s wife, the first human woman ever created, Lilith, thrived with the decision. After being banished along with her husband, she empowered demon-kind with her voice and her songs. And as the numbers of Hell grew, so did its power.
To say Heaven was threatened by that fact was an understatement, according to the paperwork Adam - the first human man and soul to enter heaven – left, I was able to discover that the overpopulation was being handled through an extermination, a massive genocide is a correct termination. What I found interesting, was that the procedure ruled out hell-born beings, no exceptions, and no precedents of any contract with Samael or any form of power known to rule in hell.
To think Adam’s heart was so big that he decided to condemn only human souls, sparing “innocent” hell-born beings, is moronic. But as soon as I started to leave my obligations unattended to uncover the mystery of the excess of blood in the hands of the high command, my actions were noticed by Michael, the archangel of light.
“Demons... It seems as if I can never catch them all and destroy them, and their numbers continue to expand, corrupting the minds of mortals” he scoffed, picking up his cup of tea, “That’s no reason to go down and take their lives, if you’re so concerned about them corrupting mortals, shut down their access to portals-“ he interrupted me hitting the table hard, breaking the saucer on which he placed the cup, his voice became distorted and his eyes widened around his head, trying to intimidate me.
“They are sinful beasts who rejected our light so we help remove them from it and keep them in the shadows of Hell. We allow them to live, an example of the angel's merciful will, but their population must be... controlled, until they cease being an annoying, persistent thorn in the side of our family” he hissed.
“Our family, was pushed down a hole and since then, no one, not even you, has tried to establish any contact, don’t you think it’s almost an insult that Adam saw Samael before us? Because I do”
“You seem to have a clouded judgement” he adjusted his glasses with a stern movement.
“It’s as clear as ever, I go to earth, I see the souls go either up or dragged down, you’re the one that is clouded because you haven’t witnessed any of their pain”  my blood boiled causing my aura to manifest around me.
“Watch your words” he warned, his eyes flaring in a blue from of flame.
“I can't wait for him to find out, and what will be worse for you, is that everyone will know that you agreed to this from the beginning” I snickered, it was wrong to provoked him, but I felt as if I had the upper hand on him.
I wish someone had warned me of how wrong I was.
“You were the only “no” that day, you were the only one to try to defend his ideas” he thought out loud.
“So?” I asked confused, reaching for the door.
There was a shrill sound, the next thing I knew, I felt a horrible pain in my back, also heat, the air was humid and hot, a smell of blood between fresh and thousands of years old. I don't know how long I was face down in the dirt, I was only able to get up when the pain stopped enough and I was able to move to dry my tears. The dry, arid land under my hands and the sign in front of me confirmed my suspicions.
Son of a bitch had thrown me into Hell.
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holy-puckslibrary · 2 months
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sid to a furry friend's rescue!
florist!reader gets flustered during sid's calendar shoot
parents mentors for the day
someone's going on a date with chief crosby... and it ain't our girl </3
gif from @matbaerzal
To Sidney, this sham is nothing more than a meat-market legitimized. His fierce, formidable crew, flaunted and auctioned off in the name of "charity," as upstanding members of the local community brazenly gawk and drink themselves into a courageous stupor.
Gathered in packs around the local watering hole on a Friday night, the only things missing are high-res Animal Planet cameras and the calm wonder of Sir David Attenborough. It's only a matter of time before they start throwing themselves at each other like elk during mating season.
It's a shame Sidney won't be around to see it.
"Don't even think about it, Chief."
Sidney slumps; he spoke too soon.
Now, he's caught between cracked-door freedom and the firm grip of his Assistant Fire Chief. Kneading at the annoyance budding between his brows, Sidney turns on his heel to face his childhood best friend.
"C'mon, really? This is a circus, Nate. I shouldn't—Is this really something I should be doing? Y'know, it's not exactly... becoming of a civil servant."
"I'm doing it," Nate shrugs. "You don't see me pitching a fit."
The Chief glares. "Yeah, because you already know who you're going home with."
"Not true; tonight's could be the night Emmy decides to act on her grade school crush," the blonde jokes, his chin tipped across the gymnasium. "And who'd blame her? Flower's lookin' better than usual tonight."
"Nate."
The younger of the two only laughs in response to the dramatic groan of his name.
"No, I get it. You're acting pissy because your flower's stuck at home with a stomach bug, and, subsequently, you've been condemned to the terrible fate of having Cole Harbour's hottest fight tooth and nail for a date with you—oh, the horror! Truly, I feel for you, Saint Crosby."
"Bandwagon much?" he grumbles.
As Nate's grin widens, Sid's frown deepens.
Blue eyes twinkling with satisfaction, Nate teases, "You didn't deny it this time."
"D-Deny, what?"
Nate rolls his eyes; Sid's refusal to acknowledge anything, let alone something so obvious to anyone with eyes, was starting to get old, and fast.
"Yeah, sure, okay. Play dumb if it makes you feel better. But I'd figure my shit out sooner rather than later if I were you."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Sidney blinks.
"Oh, nothing... Just that you aren't the only civil servant sniffing around Blossom & Bloom these days."
With a parting wink, Nate vanishes into the crowd, leaving Sidney to stew in a fresh pot of bubbling unease.
and the plot thickens... hehehe 😈
as always, i would really appreciate if you reblogged my work, left a comment or dropped by my inbox w some feedback :) fandom runs on engagement, and so do writers!! thx a mil in advance!
DIRECT CONTINUATION HERE!
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nouearth · 10 months
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london fog.
pairing ; clark kent x m!reader. fandom: ; dc, superman. word count ; 1094. genre; fluff. rating ; pg. warnings ; awkward interactions incoming, male reader is embarrassing, clark is nervous and likes hot drinks on a hot summer day, didn't proof-read, sorry! my toes actually curled at how cringy reader was being, i'm so sorry.
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“london fog for clark?” your voice is at ease and your motions even more so as you topped the hot latte with milk foam, capping the drink with a lid after. a smile that rivaled the sunny day has been brewing on your face since you took the familiar customer’s order and thankfully, things moved at a leisurely pace today, meaning you had a few more seconds than usual to spare with him.
“how come you still called my name even though there’s no one here?” his name is clark, often comes in before work or during lunch. but these days, he’s been doing both, which you couldn’t complain about. the man’s presence makes the opening shift worth it, even if you could only speak to him for a few seconds. 
as usual, he’s in his work attire, sans the blazer that you often see him wearing in the morning, and he still looks at you with that friendly smile of his, black hair whipped back with tiny strands falling downwards as his hair wax has obviously loosened over the day. clark’s presence never failed to prepare you for the long day ahead or comfort you after an intense hour of appeasing patronizing customers. adding in his ability to look effortlessly handsome every day, his generosity in tipping, and his amiable personality, it didn’t take too long for clark to become your favorite customer.
“i just like saying your name! clark! i’ve never met anyone named clark before.” you pass the cup to him as you maintained eye contact. a gentle brush of his fingertips almost breaks your gaze, but you catch yourself, only breaking to fetch and occupy his hand with a bagged sandwich. “on the house.”
“oh- hey, i can’t! let me pay for this.” you confirm to yourself that pretty privilege was indeed real and you can’t believe you fell victim to it, but… it isn’t so bad when the culprit is a genuinely kind person. 
after taking a sip, clark clumsily sets everything down on the counter to fumble for his wallet. the sound of pennies and quarters falling onto the marbled floor echoes and you could evidently see clark’s cheeks grow redder the more coins fall, but you stop him before he could empty his wallet out even further. he stares back at you wide-eyed and you couldn’t help but laugh at how cute he looks when he’s embarrassed, especially since he’s bigger and taller, a physique that you often associated with a bodyguard or some sort of superhero, and you don’t think those types of people tend to be flustered much… do they?
“it’s fine. we’re working on a new recipe, so consider yourself… a test rat!” you gather the fallen coins that managed to land on the counter into your palm before handing it back to him. a slight waste of time, only because clark slots them, along with a couple dollar bills, into the tip jar immediately after.
“well… uh… i’m happy to test anything if it means seeing more of you.” was he flirting? or was that a joke? maybe it was nothing?! your inexperience condemns you to overanalyzing his words, his tone, his body language, everything, and you’d figure you wouldn’t be able to sleep tonight with these questions running rampant.
“oh- definitely! you won’t be disappointed, clark.” you’re flustered and that reflects in your voice. a voice that was once at ease not even a minute ago quickly becomes staggered. you stammer like a school boy confessing to his crush, and you could feel your eyes shutting for a moment in embarrassment when you realize how nervous you sound. “they work me like a dog so- i’m always here, hah!” 
you snort in midst of the awkward laugh that you and clark both share and you want to hide in a hole somewhere. maybe not too deep since you still want to be alive and breathing to see clark again, but somewhere far, far, far away from this painful interaction. 
a painful interaction that makes you all the more endearing, clarks thinks to himself.
“i-uh. yeah, well hopefully not too hard to the point where you faint at work or something.” clark adds onto the topic and god, you wish you could change subjects right now.
“haha, yeah! maybe i’ll signal for superman or something!” you don’t know why but you find yourself naturally stepping back as if there was a spotlight awaiting your tony-winning performance. 
“help, help! superman! i’m gonna faint! catch me!” 
and the recipient of the most embarrassing interaction goes to…
you’re red in the face, hot in the neck, clammy in the hands, and even clark’s wholesome laughter couldn’t save you from embarrassment. you force yourself to think he’s laughing with you (and he is), not at you, and that calms you down, just a tiny bit.
“great drinks and service, and now a show. i gotta come visit more often.” clark occupies his hands once again with his drink and sandwich, nodding you off. “thank you- again. i’ll see you tomorrow?”
“yea-“ the sound of a bell cuts you off and you look over to the source—another customer. “y-yes! tomorrow.” 
clark’s voice is faint when he bids you goodbye, but you were already off to the other side of the cafe, tending to the customer, and eventually too focused to notice his exit when a line of customers quickly forms.
you work quickly within the next few minutes, knocking the orders down in an impressive personal record, and a huge weight lifts off your shoulders when you call out the last order of the line, until that bell chimes in again.
three more hours to go. you sighed, tired on your feet as you walk your way towards the ordering counter, greeting the customer.
“hello! welcome to-“
“i’m sorry, i lied. not tomorrow.”
you slow your approach, taking a moment to register what the familiar man was saying. “wha- clark? what do you mean?” usually you’d smile when you see him—clark—but he seems conflicted, disheveled, a stark contrast to his usual friendly demeanor, and so you could only muster a soft half-smile out of worry.
“can i see you tonight?”
clark stands tall, but not confident as he waits for your answer, nervously shifting his weight onto on his toes and heel, hands dug into his pockets.
“i-uh. yeah. i get off at five-“
“five…” clark ponders for a quick moment before nodding, gracing you with that comforting smile of his. you're at ease again, if you ignore the incredibly annoying swell in your chest.
“i’ll see you at five.”
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© nouearth. please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works. and if you like this story, please reblog and leave a like!
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supernaturalgirl20 · 1 year
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The Viper & The Lamb
Prologue
Pairings: Oberyn Martell x f!reader
Warnings: References to sex, kidnapping, arson, mention of death and murder, reader has dark hair, light eyes and is curvy.
Summary: Oberyn is one of the bosses of the Martell crime family and he’s out for revenge. Revenge for the murder of his beloved sister Elia and her family. He will stop at nothing to bring down the Lannisters, including kidnapping their precious daughter and using her as leverage. But you’re not who he was expecting, so when you completely flip his world upside down, he’s not prepared for the inevitable outcome. Falling madly in love with you.
A/N: just a short little piece to wet your tastebuds 😜 my migraine has been kicking my ass this week so I haven’t done any writing. Apologies if you’re waiting on requests to be answered. They are coming I promise 🥰
Series Masterlist
Comments and reblogs really appreciated 🥰
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The air was thick and reeked of smoke and blood. The familiar smell filled his senses as he sat on his bike and looked behind him. A smile worked its way onto his face as his lips curled slightly at the corner of his mouth.
The Lannister crest fell to the ground as their club was engulfed in flames. Not his handiwork but his determination to see them ruined played a part.
The rev of engines roaring to life filtered out the muffled screams coming from Jarons bike. His eyes drift towards the sound and his face becomes serious again. You!
Another Lannister bitch. Not the one he was hoping for but he got what he came for all the same. Leverage.
“Ready to go, boss?” Trystane asked as he came up beside him on his bike.
His eyes flicker to you again briefly before he nods at his men. “Let’s head out before daddy dearest catches wind, and ruins all our plans. His time will come but not tonight.”
Oberyn stayed put a moment longer, watching as his men rode off, one by one. His eyes somehow found you once again and he couldn’t help but notice how beautiful you were.
Dark hair falls over your shoulders, drawing his attention to the curve of your breasts. Beautiful and perky, barely contained in the black silk dress you wore, begging for his attention.
Your skin glistened with perspiration, no doubt from fear, and it somehow turned him on even more. His cock strained against the zipper of his jeans growing harder by the second as his mind conjured images of you writhing beneath him.
Something he would never acknowledge out loud. He would rather gouge out his eyes than ever admit to being attracted to a Lannister. The panic he saw in your light orbs stirred something within him.
Guilt twists in his gut as tears begin to stream down your face. A small part of him wants to set you free but the memory of his sister dying in his arms was enough to drown out those thoughts.
Everything he did was for her.
For his revenge on the man who took his sister.
Even if that meant condemning an innocent woman to death.
He was the Viper after all. And his venom was poisonous.
Part one
Everything: @maievdenoir @amneris21 @hnt-escape @elegantduckturtle @harriedandharassed @jediknight122 @ayrusss @hayley-the-comet @sherala007 @alexxavicry @scorpio-marionette @donnaa @practicalghost @tanzthompson @beskarprincessjenny @littlemisspascal @icanbeyourjedi @thatpinkshirt @maryfanson @sunnshineeexoxo @misspearly1 @misspearlssideblog @athalien @its--fandom--darling @sara-alonso @doommommy @browneyes-issac @trickstersp8 @nembees @kaitieskidmore1 @mswarriorbabe80 @allthe-ships @tintinn16 @hungrhay @rosie-posie08 @manuymesut @all-the-way-down-here @iccedays @tusk89 @graciexmarvel @pedrostories @musings-of-a-rose @untitledarea @your-voice-is-mellifluous @majestyjade @avengersfan
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grimalkinmessor · 10 months
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Fic Rec time because why not: Death Note Edition ✨
These are some of my favorite DN fanfics and I figured I'd share them with you :3 Even if you've probably already seen some of them.
I am also a multishipper so this going to LONG. Buckle in 🚀
Gen
Five Days by Shadow_of_Quill
Rated M. Noncon Warning. Several instances throughout the week where people don't keep their hands to themselves around Light.
Despite the serious subject matter Light deals with it in a very Light™ way. This is the origin of a few of my angstier Light headcanons.
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This Is How I Disappear by TzviaAriella
Rated T. MCD Warning. After an international tribunal condemns nineteen-year-old Light Yagami to death, the Kira Task Force must come to terms with the fallout of the case–and with Light’s surprising last request.
I'm pretty sure everyone's read this one at some point. It's a classic. Everybody's GOTTA read this one at least once. Angsty but it's hhhhhhHHHHHH 🙏 So good.
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And This Is All There Ever Was by Min Daae
Rated T. MCD Warning. In which Light has confessed, in order to win.
This one is technically lawlight, but it feels very gen to me so I put it NEAR the lawlight list. I love Light being a spiteful shit and this is him being spiteful to the very end. This man will do anything to win.
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Lawlight
Polarity by Writeous
Rated T. Some people are born with soulmarks: small, colorful images tattooed onto your skin that represent the people who would prove most important in your life. By all accounts, soulbonds are supposed to be beautiful, something to be cherished and revered over the course of your life. Light Yagami grows up with a bold, typeface L on his hand and a soulmate that hates him.
I'm obsessed with this fic. OB. SESSED. It only has one chapter so far but I love the dynamic on this one. I love soulmate aus but specifically the grittier ones. It has a MCD warning but as of now it's not applicable yet. Highly recommend.
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Time Speaks by aSmallMoon333
Rated E. In his first life, L died in the arms of his greatest enemy.
In his brief second one, he died alone.
And in his third, too-long life, L died anticipating finally getting even with the man who'd won their game one too many times.
And Light Yagami? If he'd known this is what picking up the Death Note would bring....well, he'd probably still have done it anyway.
This fic? Superb. Spectacular. I reread it at LEAST once a month. It has lodged in my brain and rots everything else around it I am so obsessed. L and Light are so unhinged and in love and petty and I love them. MCD warning, obviously, but it doesn't stick. This was my first fic back into the DN fandom and honestly I think it should be everyone else's too 🙏 My friends tell me they're getting back into DN and I immediately recc them this fic.
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louder then bells by relic_crown
Rated M. No one has ever seen Light’s soul, but it haunts his dreams as a monster: eyes bloody as sunrise, feathers tasting of citrus and sharpie fumes, breath hot as summer and twice as brutal. At first, he thinks the notebook itself is his soulmate. Then he tells himself Misa can be enough.
L ruins everything. For the first time, someone sees Light’s soul, and through his eyes Light knows it must look monstrous – why else would L be hunting him over it?
A soulmate/His Dark Materials AU—can you tell I have a thing for soulmate AUs? I adore the vibes of this fic, from the mystery of Light's soul, to L's distinct creepiness, to how Light views Kira :) I cannot explain that last bit to you, you're just gonna have to read it.
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Slow to Boil by TrashKing
Rated E. L has loved Kira since he knew there was a Kira to love. Unfortunately for him Light Yagami doesn’t quite understand the whole process of being seduced so L will have to take the frog in the pot approach to taming this beast.
I have a kink for L having a Kira kink, and this is one of my favorites to read when I have my 'I Need L To Be Obsessed With Kira' cravings. Very fun read, highly recommend ✨
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The Many Forms of Blessings by TrashKing
Rated E. Light was taken in by Wammy House after he lost his family in the accident. Now eighteen he finds it’s a tradition at the house that the best of every generation meet the mysterious creature who lives in the catacombs under the estate; L. Light is reluctant and that unease proves well placed when it’s revealed the graduates L likes never leave the underground.
And THIS fic is the one I circle back to when I get my 'I Need L To Be Obsessed With Light' cravings :3 Dark and beautiful in that Beauty & The Beast/Leda & The Swan way. I really love Light's characterization in this fic, as well as the darker take on the Light Grows Up In Wammy's trope.
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Rabbit Holes by TrashKing
Rated M. L Lawliet, head programmer and engineer for W&W Cybernetics, arrives at Tokyo-3 to fix a malfunction that killed eight people. The problem is that 'malfunction' turns out to be a newly sentient super computer called Kira. L disconnects him from the rest of the installation to begin a historic interrogation, but Kira might not be as defanged as L believes.
If you can't tell by now I am trash for TrashKing's fics—I can't help it I'm straight up in love with their Light. I would recc literally all of their fics but we don't got time for that, there's over fifty. This fic is fluffy and funny and really interesting, and it was a super fun read! I liked the inclusion of Ryuk and Light's very wholesome and yet still very Light™ reactions to human experiences :)
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Into The Grey by Kratos_Aurion
Rated E. Light is a young, hot, reclusive Omega who follows all the rules and does it all right. Except when he's sneaking out to capture criminals as the vigilante only known as Kira. L will always and forever be the world's greatest detective, but the Alpha might have a little competition in the Kanto region of Japan.
In a world just barely free of Omega oppression, these two geniuses find themselves in a race against the clock and each other.
VIGILANTE 👏 LIGHT 👏 I love this little scheming bastard. I love the twists and turns this fic takes and the persistent aura of dread and danger. I also just like it when L and Light bicker and fight and they do that a lot in this fic. A lot. It's great. I can't explain what else I particularly like about this fic without spoiling it, so you're just gonna have to read it.
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Extrajudicial by Boo_Yeah
Rated M. L knows that Light Yagami is guilty. And he is forced to accept that he will never be able to prove it.
So, just this once, he decides to break his principles and go above the law. He kidnaps Light and takes him to Wammy's house.
He's sure that having the kids interact with a real-life mass murderer will be a very educational experience indeed.
Or: Light is Kira, L is sick of how easily manipulated the police are, and he secretly wants to see what will happen if he forces Light into a domestic situation with children just as intelligent as he is.
I am a person who really enjoys L Wins AU, so L yoinking Light from Japan just to hide him away in Wammy's to try and redeem (?) him all while Light kicks and screams is something that just speaks to me personally 🙏 L just wants to not kill his friend and Light just wants to continue to commit crimes, top tier story on God.
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Animal Games by tsukinoyagi
Rated T. Gone Girl AU. L has moved his lovely, vile, entirely batshit husband out of their beautiful Brooklyn brownstone into a Missouri suburb, then left him to his own devices. He is under the impression that this is going to end well.
This fic is beautifully written and it scratches that itch I have for malicious antagonism between established lawlight. These bitches are SO toxic and I love them. I really enjoyed the different perspectives just so you can see that both of them are unreliable narrators.
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Terraito
The Gods of The Godless by foreskinsmoothie
Rated E. Noncon Warning. Light was perfect. And now that he’s not, there’s just nothing left for him here, in this life.
After a night that ruined his life, left him crippled and spurred forth multiple failed suicide attempts, Light decides his best course of action is putting himself in the most dangerous situation he can think of and making grotesque gangsters do his dirty work. He slips into the sight of Ryuk, infamous for fucking male escorts, then killing them in a brutal blur. Or so those dark web message boards say.
Light’s fate is in Gods hands… or maybe a creature far crueler has plans for him.
I LOVE THIS FIC. I ADORE IT. It's dark and gritty, but as someone deranged about human (?) Ryuk and his and Light's dynamic, this fic is wonderful. The noncon is not between Ryuk and Light, but the descriptions are explicit so be aware of that. Both Light and Ryuk have my entire heart here no lie.
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Toes, Knuckles, Teeth by TrashKing
Rated E. Ryuk's always been good at bending rules. Shinigami aren't supposed to have sex with humans but, well, by his estimation Light is also a Shinigami.
This fic revolves in my brain at 3x microwave speeds, okay? I am studying this fic like it is the scrolls of old, alright? I hold unhinged amounts of feralness for this fic. It's a smutty little character study, and it has imprinted itself onto the back of my eyelids forever. This fic addresses every reason that I'm so obsessed with Ryuk and Light's relationship. SO GOOD 🔥
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Meronia
what doesn't kill me makes me want you more by neallo
Rated M. “Poor Near,” Mello says, stepping closer and pulling Near’s head back further, tilting her face up as Mello cages her against the wall. “How long have you liked me?”
Near’s heart is kicking against her ribcage so hard it almost hurts, and her ears are burning with embarrassment. She squeezes her eyes shut, unable to hold the blonde’s gaze. “Mello, I...” she tries to speak, hoarse.
“Has it been months?” Mello asks, her voice getting closer as Near feels her lean down. She braves a glimpse through her lashes and watches as Mello bends her head to brush her cheek against Near’s, putting her lips next to Near’s ear. “Years, maybe?” The older girl teases.
Near finds it in herself to squeak out a “yes,” and almost jumps at Mello’s sharp intake of breath.
“Years,” Mello marvels.
A Fem Meronia fic set in Wammy's era where Mello finds out that Near enjoys getting bullied by her—because Near has a MASSIVE crush on her. What more could you possibly want out of life? Amazing fic.
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The Archer Ensnared by jabbernatty
Rated E. Near has two goals: the first, to celebrate Mello’s birthday. The second- a secret. His methods for achieving these? Questionable.
THIS. FIC. THIS ONE. Near is my favorite levels of unhinged and this is so in character for me. I enjoy it a lot. If you haven't figured it out by now I enjoy romantic antagonism and problematic relationships and this fic has both 😍
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we will be better than i was by sahwen
Rated M. AU in which Mello swallows their pride and works alongside Near. Things aren't as different as one might expect.
Nonbinary Mello, domestic-edging meronia, and tragedy mixed in with funny shenanigans. The way this written is just,,,so pretty?? I'm in love with it. 10/10 it has everything.
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Matsulight
metempsychosis by palant1r
Rated M. MCD Warning. After the warehouse — it will always be "the warehouse" to him, a vague noun as a substitute for years of betrayal — Matsuda wakes up the next morning faced with a second chance. One day to fix everything, one day to build the January 28 he wants. And that day will repeat for as long as it takes to get things right.
He knows that he can't save everyone. But it would be nice if he could just save someone.
OR
Matsuda gets stuck in a time loop and the situation quickly gets worse.
This fic is a TRIP I tell you, but a very good one. Matsuda's characterization in this is so much fun. This fic is about the journey of grief and all the madness and moral contemplation that comes along with shooting the greatest mass murderer of all time who was also your best friend that you're in love with. Very good read.
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Alive by still_lycoris
Rated M. Light Yagami is a Shinigami. And Matsuda has found the Notebook ...
This is such an interesting idea, I really enjoyed it. Matsuda's moral struggle seems to be a persistent theme in matsulight fics but honestly that's half the fun. Good fic ����
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Birthdaymassacre
A Secret Note by KeehlingOver
Rated E. What Mello left out of his writings on the Los Angeles BB Murder Cases.
Or, these edibles ain't shi--
This fic is so fucking funny holy shit. Whenever I need a pick-me-up I reread this fic. It's T4T bdaymassacre, what more could you want?
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Aggressive Top by ThePunkRanger
Rated E. Naomi Misora isn’t about to admit that the mysterious detective Ryuzaki sparked something in her, but when he insists that he’s an “aggressive top” she just can’t let it slide. So she does something entirely unprecedented, and invites him over to prove it.
What has she gotten herself into?
Naomi is sick of Ryuzaki's shit, and Beyond has reverse-psychology-ed his head between Naomi's legs 🙏 This one is unfinished but it left off on a cliffhanger that drives me FUCKIN' NUTS BRO. FIRE.
.
Playing The Part by ThePunkRanger
Rated E. Someone is kidnapping members of Southern California’s BDSM community, and the world’s greatest detective is in the market for a reliable team to go undercover on his behalf.
It’s been two years since the arrest of Rue Ryuzaki, the serial killer behind the Los Angeles BB murder case, and Naomi Misora has been happy to live her life under the assumption that she’ll never have to see him again. Unfortunately, L has other ideas; ones that involve her pretending to be in a Pup/Handler relationship with the murderer she put behind bars.
I'll be real and say that I wasn't sure about this fic at first, but it's actually very wholesome?? And respectful of the kink community! There's some extra angst in the background with L's controlling tendencies (there are cameras in that hotel room. I feel it in my bones.) and his and B's rough history, but honestly I think that makes it even more interesting. Top tier fic. 👌
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tunnelofphriendship · 1 month
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on phandom whiteness, race and stereotypes
I've been meaning to make this post for a while. I have never been very active in this fandom space, and part of that has been due to a discomfort I have felt that i have never felt i could discuss openly. So while I want to be a part of this phandom, I need to adress the elephant in the room and I want this sideblog I created to be a space where others like me can feel safe to voice their feelings and thoughts.
To preface this, I am not looking to "cancel" dan and phil. I just want to talk about my experiences both as a hardcore phan for years, and as someone who deviates from the usual dnp fan: I'm not a white person from Europe, US, Canada.
To put it bluntly, some of their videos are extremely hard to watch and enjoy and it makes me feel alienated when no one talks about it. There is no media without "problematic" elements, but I feel like in other fandom spaces people at least talk about elements worth questioning because they may be offensive or ignorant.* And yet dan and phil are hailed as "unproblematic kings" when this is not the case at all, and it's hard to bring up how I feel.
I'm not looking to make a comprehensive list of everything they've said, but I will talk about a few examples to illustrate what I mean.
Sexy Internet Dating (1:59-2:03)
d: whats yo name
p: i like how the guinea pig is now a sassy black woman
A Day in the Life of Phil and Dan! (3:58-4:03)
p: Suncream d: suncream for your albino face p: yea d: i don't need it because i'm already black
Does anyone remember the Mexican Dan thing? He seems to have deleted most of the things associated with that period where he was tan and "jokingly" fancied himself a different race because of it but this little window to that time remains in one of the most beloved videos of all time. Can you see how this might be hard to watch? When even the most iconic videos they've made are sprinkled with little instances of ignorant comments like this?
And let me be clear, I know this was ages ago. I'm aware they might have grown and changed. What really gets to me is how nobody in the phandom ever talks about these moments. It makes me really lonely and disappointed that everyone turns a blind eye to things that might tarnish the image of their faves.
Like for example, the pewdiepie situation. I'm not going to discuss everything he did and said. But imagine how it might feel as a non-white fan to want to rewatch old dnpgames videos and find that they kept their videos with him up all this time:
youtube
They were clearly quite friendly with F*lix. Besides these videos, Felix is also casually mentioned in some of their videos and livestreams from the time before he was "cancelled" (more on that later). But did they ever say anything condemning his actions? I think that given how they had collaborated and were friends, I would expect them to say SOMETHING rather than just never speak on the matter (as far as I know, the closest they got to this was in a liveshow where dan said he had had "a conversation" with felix in a way that implied he disapproved of his actions.) Or at the very very least, is it really that hard to delete a video? They have deleted old videos for a variety of reasons. How is collabing with a known racist not reason enough to go through the trouble of deleting a video? But deleting other videos just because they're a bit"cringey" is worth that time?
I just wonder how regretful they really are at having been friends and collaborators with him. In fact, part of me wonders if they are still friends behind the scenes. If this is ever confirmed btw, that will cause me to stop watching them forever. And they might still be friends in their little white circle for all we know. After all dan and phil are long time friends of KickthePj. And PJ is STILL friends with pewdiepie.
Now, besides PJ being dnp's friend and having once been part of the phantastic foursome, I don't care much for his content except for when dan and phil have been featured (lol sorry not sorry). And this might be the case for many of you as well! But some of you ARE avid kickthepj fans and decided to ignore the fact that he uploaded a video with pewdiepie last month. There is no plausible deniability here anymore. Despite the harms pewdiepie has done in internet spaces--and how that extends to real life--NOBODY said anything about how kickthepj doesn't care enough (or at all) to simply NOT make a video with pewdiepie.
It's staggering to me that no one cares. It's shocking to me that in these videos i've mentioned, you go to the comment section and everyone will be happily enjoying the video with no mention of these things.
Is this what being "cancelled" looks like? It seems to me like with the passage of time, Pewdiepie and his friends and followers just want to sweep it all under the rug. How is it that the internet will tear a man to shreds for plagiarism but then find it in themselves to excuse racism?
Why does no one care? Is it because this space is overwhelmingly white? I think so. I think it's a conscious choice to turn a blind eye when it's convenient. So I just wanted to make this post to say that if you ever feel alienated by the white ignorance of dnp or their circle of their fans, then you can come talk to me and I won't ignore you.
I want to be a part of this phandom, I really love dan and phil, but I'm not going to "stan" them. I'm not going to make excuses for them. And I'm not going to keep quiet just so I can be a part of this fandom without making the vast majority of white fans uncomfortable.
*I'm thinking of my experiences in the supernatural fandom. (Although, i'm not saying it's perfect. There are certainly a number of fics that have made me feel very disappointed inthe creator for falling into the trap of racial stereotypes in OCs and stuff like that, and despite that so many people enjoy it and include it in rec lists.)
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sundeathh · 8 months
Text
Another sail into hell
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One-shot  |  Masterlist 
Pairing: Aizawa × GN!reader | Words: 1,2K
Fandom: BNHA | MHA  | Tags: Comfort, sensitive content
DO NOT READ IF YOU THINK YOU COULD BE TRIGGED BY THE FOLLOWING TOPICS: Self-harm, blood mention, suicide themes, mental health issues.
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You tossed and turned in your bed, your eyes glued to the ceiling as insomnia held you in its relentless grip. The night stretched endlessly, the darkness outside mirroring the turmoil within your mind. The silence was deafening, broken only by the whispers of your thoughts, each one more disturbing than the last.
It started as a subtle unease, a gnawing sensation deep in your chest. But as the hours wore on, it escalated from simple thoughts of self-doubt into a storm of panic that threatened to consume you entirely. The weight of despair pressed down on you like a vice, and you felt as though you were drowning in a sea of hopelessness.
You knew you needed an escape, a way out of the suffocating darkness that clung to you and made you blind with despair. The thought of ending it all seemed like the only solution, a desperate cry for relief from the relentless pain.
But even in your darkest moments, you knew that wasn't the answer. You couldn't bear to hurt the people who cared about you. You still wanted to see the bright side of life that so many people seemed to have, yet you were still left to discover.
So, you turned to the only other release you knew, the one that had offered so much solace in the past. With trembling hands, you reached for the hidden blade in the drawer. The cool steel met your skin, and for a brief moment, the physical pain eclipsed the emotional agony.
It was a temporary escape, even though you wanted to cut your neck instead of your wrists. It still was a way to divert your thoughts from the abyss that threatened to swallow you whole.
But as the blood welled up and the sting intensified, you realized the depths of your desperation. Shame and guilt washed over you, and you felt like a failure for succumbing to this old habit.
You sat there, reflecting on how dumb and broken you were while tears streamed down your face, the room bathed in a crimson haze. You knew you had to hide the evidence, to keep this dark secret locked away. But the emotional pain still raged within, a tempest that refused to be tamed.
Aizawa was out on patrol, and you knew he wouldn't be home for hours. You were alone with your demons, trapped in a never-ending cycle of despair. You felt utterly helpless like you were teetering on the edge of an abyss with no way out.
Hours passed, and the room remained shrouded in darkness. It would be so much easier to just throw yourself out of the window. You were completely lost in your thoughts, unable to escape the relentless self-condemnation. The weight of your actions pressed down on you, suffocating and unrelenting.
And then, like a lifeline thrown to a drowning soul, you heard the faint sound of the front door opening. Aizawa was home, and you couldn't bear to face him in this state. But you couldn't hide either; he would inevitably find you.
In a failed attempt to hide yourself, you slid to the ground, curling yourself into a ball as if you were an animal hiding on its shelf.
As he entered the room, his tired eyes met your figure, and you could sense the concern and worry emanating from his silent footsteps as he approached you slowly, as if afraid to startle you further.
"Hey," he said softly, his voice a soothing balm to your shattered soul.
You couldn't find the words, couldn't summon the strength to explain the turmoil that had consumed you. You never could. But you didn't need to.
Aizawa knew you better than anyone ever could, and in that moment, his presence spoke volumes. His eyes, those deep, understanding eyes, always held the weight of your pain and uncertainty without judgment.
With utmost care, he lowered himself onto the floor close to you, his movements deliberate and gentle, as if approaching a fragile piece of glass that might shatter at the slightest touch. His warm hand reached out to grab hold of your cold ones, fingers intertwining in a gesture that felt like a lifeline thrown to a soul trapped in hell.
The simplicity of that touch conveyed more love and understanding than any words ever could. It was a silent affirmation of his unwavering support, a promise that he would stand by your side through the darkest of nights. And, as his thumb brushed away a solitary tear that escaped your eye after you finally got the courage to lift your head, you couldn't help but feel an overwhelming rush of gratitude for his presence in your life, even though you were screaming with shame inside.
"You don't have to go through this alone," he whispered, his voice a gentle caress against the chaos in your mind. "I'm here for you, always."
At that moment, the weight of your shame and guilt began to slowly lift, like dark clouds parting to reveal a sliver of sunlight. Aizawa's presence was like a lifeline – a lifeline that you had been desperately reaching for amid a recurrent, never-ending storm.
It was a reminder that you didn't have to fight your demons by yourself, that the battle didn't have to be a solitary struggle.
With him by your side, the darkness seemed a little less daunting, and the path to healing, though still obscured by uncertainty, felt a little less treacherous.
His unwavering belief in you, even in your most broken state, was a testament to the depth of his love and the strength of your bond.
As the night wore on, Aizawa remained by your side, offering his silent support and comforting presence while seconds stretched to hours. He didn't push you to talk or explain; he never would. He simply held you close, a steady anchor in the storm.
It felt as if he had wrapped his arms around your shattered soul, providing a haven where you could let down your guard and feel safe while being vulnerable.
Eventually, though, he gently suggested, "Maybe we should consider going to the emergency room, just to make sure you're okay." His voice sounded like a whisper carried away by the cold wind of a winter's day.
The idea sent a jolt of fear through your spine, and you hesitated. The thought of seeking help outside these four walls was terrifying, not only because of the fear of judgment but also the fear of the stigma that came with admitting you needed help. What if they didn't understand? What if they thought you were beyond saving? People in the emergency room don't usually care about people who want to die, right?
Aizawa immediately sensed your hesitation, and he squeezed your hand reassuringly. "I know it's scary," he said softly, "but it's important to make sure you're safe. They can help, and I'll be right there with you, every step of the way. I won't let anything happen to you."
His words offered a glimmer of hope amid the darkness. With his unwavering support, you found the courage to nod, even though taking that first step toward seeking the help you so desperately needed was a lot more scary than being left by yourself, with the company of your so well-known blade.
The healing journey was far from over, but you knew you were not alone in this battle. And as you both left the safety of your home, guided by the light of Aizawa's love and support, you dared to believe that there might be a way out of the abyss after all. You had to.
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Do not repost. Likes, reblogs and comments are appreciated, though!
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zapreportsblog · 8 months
Note
Protective Alec and Jane X sibling! reader
In Jane and Alec’s past they were known for being witches, especially their youngest the reader.
And so when the three siblings were about to die in the fire that was controlled my a mob, they all got turned to vampires thanks to Aro who they met not to long ago.
And now they are all grown up and the twins have decided to not let the reader join the twins on missions and instead stay close to the kings.(who the reader is really close with especially Markus).
One day one of the workers tried to flirt with the reader, let’s just say the flirt is locked up in a cell with a crime that wasn’t even theirs, all thanks to the twins (they were told about the flirt from Felix) and a little help from the Volturi kings, especially Markus.
❝tho shall not flirt with our sister❞
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✭ pairing : alec volturi x reader x jane volturi
✭ fandom : twilight
✭ summary : when they were still human the twins alec and jane , along with their sibling (y/n) were accused of being witches. Saved by aro and turnt into vampires they got their revenge, well at least the twins did, (y/n) has always been the softer sibling. Now centuries later, the twins are triggered again when some low level guard decides to flirt with their soft hearted sister
✭ authors note : I did it, I got through so many requests that now I have only this one and 1 left 😭💕
✭ twilight masterlist 2
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The year was 1692, and the town of Salem was gripped by fear. Accusations of witchcraft were spreading like wildfire, and no one was safe from suspicion, not even the innocent. In a quaint cottage on the outskirts of town lived three siblings, Jane, Alec, and (Y/N), each unaware of the darkness that loomed over them.
Jane, the eldest, had fiery red hair that matched her spirited personality. She was fiercely protective of her younger siblings and had a sharp wit that often got her into trouble. Alec, the middle child, was known for his silver tongue and charm. He could persuade anyone to see things his way, but he was also mischievous, always getting into schemes with Jane.
(Y/N), the youngest, was a quiet soul, preferring books and solitude to the raucous adventures of her older siblings. Her ebony hair framed her gentle face, and her eyes held a wisdom beyond her years. She was the innocent heart among them, a fact that would become all too apparent.
One fateful day, the townsfolk gathered in the town square, torches in hand, and rage in their eyes. Accusations of witchcraft had fallen upon the three siblings. It was a witch hunt, and the siblings were their prey. They were dragged before the tribunal, where false accusations and wild claims were hurled at them.
As the flames of the stake crackled and the crowd chanted for their demise, the siblings clung to each other, their fear palpable. But then, in the shadows, two figures emerged – Aro and Marcus. Aro, with his piercing eyes and magnetic presence, commanded attention. Marcus, though quieter, exuded an air of authority and protection.
In that dire moment, Aro and Marcus revealed their true nature, vampires of an ancient coven. Aro turned his crimson eyes toward Jane and Alec, seeing in them the potential for power and cunning that would serve their coven well. With a swift motion, he changed them into vampires, sparing them from the fiery fate that awaited.
But when Marcus gazed upon (Y/N), he saw something different. He saw her innocence, her purity of heart. He couldn't bear to condemn her to a life of darkness. Instead, he turned her, saving her from the flames but also from the bloodlust that consumed her siblings.
Centuries passed, and the siblings walked separate paths. Jane and Alec thrived under Aro's guidance, embracing their vampiric nature and exacting their revenge on the descendants of those who had accused them. They saw Aro not only as their sire but as their king, master, and father figure.
(Y/N), on the other hand, remained close to Marcus, the father figure who had saved her from damnation. She struggled to reconcile her human kindness with her vampiric nature, seeking solace in Marcus's wisdom and guidance. As the years went by, she found purpose in helping others, using her powers to protect the innocent rather than harm them.
In the shadows of the vampire world, the siblings' destinies were entwined, but their choices and loyalties diverged, leaving them forever bound by the secrets of their past and the dark legacy of Salem.
In the dimly lit chambers of the Volturi castle, Jane and Alec stood before Aro, their crimson eyes gleaming with an intensity that only immortality could bring. They were discussing a matter close to their undead hearts, a matter that involved their beloved sibling, (Y/N).
"Aro," Jane began, her voice like silk over a blade, "we need to talk about (Y/N)."
Aro regarded them with curiosity, his ancient mind always eager for intrigue. "Ah, my dear children, what troubles you concerning your sister?"
Alec stepped forward, his demeanor as cool as ice. "It's her nature, Aro. She's different from us, too compassionate for this life. We fear she wouldn't handle the guard's duties well."
Aro arched an eyebrow, a shrewd smile playing at his lips. "Ah, you are concerned about her inability to embrace the violence, I presume."
Jane nodded, her red curls cascading over her shoulders. "Exactly. She can barely feed on a human, let alone engage in the kind of brutality we've grown accustomed to."
Aro considered their words, his fingers steepled beneath his chin. "You have a valid point, my dear ones. (Y/N) possesses a unique gift, one that I find quite intriguing. Her compassion is a rarity among our kind, and it would be a shame to stifle it."
Alec continued, "We were hoping you'd agree. We want her to continue remaining on the sidelines, to be there to see us off for missions and welcome us back from them just as she’s been doing. She has her place, and it's with us, just not when we are on the battlefield."
Aro's eyes sparkled with understanding. "Very well, my children, your wish is granted. (Y/N) shall not be burdened with the duties of the guard. Instead, she shall find her purpose in supporting her siblings, in being the beacon of humanity in our world."
Relief washed over Jane and Alec as they thanked Aro, knowing that their sister's gentleness would remain intact, unmarred by the violence of their existence. Together, they departed from Aro's chambers, their bond as siblings and vampires stronger than ever.
As the days turned into nights, (Y/N) continued to embrace her role with grace and contentment. She would stand on the castle's balcony, watching as her siblings departed on their missions, their forms disappearing into the night. And when they returned, weary from their battles, she would be there to welcome them, a beacon of love and compassion in a world that so often lacked it.
In this way, the three siblings found their place in the intricate tapestry of the Volturi, each contributing in their own unique way. And (Y/N), with her heart of gold, continued to pour her love into a cup for her siblings or feed from them when needed, finding solace in the knowledge that she had a family who cherished her just as she was.
The Volturi castle was an ancient fortress steeped in darkness and intrigue. Within its cold stone walls, the night whispered secrets, and shadows concealed the darkest of intentions. Among the guards, there was a low-level vampire named Tyler. Tall and lean, with unruly dark hair, Tyler was known for his eagerness to please and an unfortunate habit of pursuing (Y/N) with relentless flirtation.
One evening, as (Y/N) wandered through the dimly lit corridors of the castle, Tyler approached her, his voice dripping with false charm.
"(Y/N)," he purred, his smile forced and insincere. "You're even more beautiful tonight than the stars."
(Y/N) felt a shiver of discomfort run down her spine. She had endured Tyler's advances for some time now, and each encounter left her feeling more uneasy than the last. "Tyler," she said, her voice quivering, "please, I'm not interested."
Tyler, undeterred by her rejection, closed the distance between them. "Come on, (Y/N)," he urged, his voice taking on a sultrier tone. "I can show you a world of pleasures you've never known."
(Y/N) stepped back, panic flickering in her eyes. "No, Tyler, I mean it. Leave me alone."
But Tyler was persistent, believing that he could win her over with enough persistence. His advances continued, and (Y/N) grew increasingly uncomfortable.
Unknown to Tyler, his actions had not gone unnoticed. Felix, another guard often paired with him on missions, had seen the low-level guard's relentless pursuit of (Y/N) and found it both distasteful and disrespectful. It was Felix who reported Tyler's behavior to Jane and Alec, knowing that they would take action.
The twins, always protective of their sister, were swift to devise a plan. They decided to manipulate the situation to ensure that Tyler faced consequences for his unwelcome advances. Felix was more than willing to help, having grown increasingly irritated with Tyler's behavior as well.
Under the shroud of secrecy, Jane and Alec presented their "evidence" against Tyler to the Volturi council. They painted a picture of a guard who posed a threat to the peace and harmony of the Volturi, with Tyler's actions towards (Y/N) at the forefront of their accusations.
Aro, sensing an opportunity to exert control, nodded in agreement. "We cannot allow such behavior to persist within our ranks. Tyler, you shall be confined to a cell until further investigation."
Tyler's shock and disbelief were palpable as he was led away, accused of a crime he had not committed. Jane and Alec watched with a sense of satisfaction, knowing that their sister would no longer be subjected to his advances, even if it meant tarnishing the reputation of a fellow guard.
(Y/N) was spared the discomfort of Tyler's relentless pursuit, and the Volturi's dominion continued, where shadows concealed secrets and alliances were tested, all under the watchful eyes of their enigmatic leaders, especially Marcus, who seemed to have a unique understanding of the intricacies of their dark world.
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wintaerbaer · 8 months
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in between (ksj)
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summary: It's nights like this that are embedded into your memory—your face fitting perfectly in the crook of his neck, his chin resting on top of your head, your arms and legs thoroughly tangled together.
pairing: Seokjin x Reader
rating: all ages
genre: established relationship au
word count: 1.8k
warnings: MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH, heavy angst, mentions of traumatic pregnancy/labor if you squint
a/n: this was originally a small piece i wrote for a class about a decade ago, which i then adjusted into a fic for a fandom that's no longer around. since i've never been able to get it out of my head, i figured it'd be fun to revise and re-release it again! dedicated to @btsborahaee who is apparently the angst demon that possessed me when i wrote it <3
MASTERLIST
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He never fails to amaze you.
You lean in the doorway, watching as he cradles the baby to his chest and croons soft phrases of love into the girl's ear, trying to get her to fall back asleep. He's shirtless, flannel sleep pants slung low on his hips, bare feet pressed to the hardwood floor.
He's never looked more handsome in his life.
After a couple minutes of the baby's incessant cries, he moves to the rocking chair by the window in surrender. The moon turns his face a silvery white, highlighting the ruffled hair and stubbly shadow of a beard. You’ve never seen him with a considerable amount of facial hair before, and you don’t yet know how you feel about it.
He rocks back and forth gently—the chair creaking under him and the baby still whimpering pitifully in his arms. He doesn't see you as you watch him calm the child, whispering now. His voice is so low that it's hard to hear, but you definitely pick up something that sounds like "So pretty. Just like mommy."
Amazing how he can make you smile even when he doesn't intend to.
His quiet whispers mollify the baby faster than would seem possible, and it's not long before the girl has drifted off to sleep, tiny face pressed into his bare chest. He continues to gently sway in the chair, staring at the wall, and when he shifts his head, you can see that his eyes are shining.
The sight of his tears has you backing out of the doorframe and padding down the hall, feeling sick to your stomach. The walls around you are so horrifyingly blank and merely add to your growing anxiety. You wonder how long they'll stay that way.
You take the stairs down to the living room, not knowing what to do except make yourself scarce. You pace around the room, dodging all sorts of new things for the baby—items that haven't found a place in your home yet and are therefore just sitting in the living room until they do. Somebody really should make an effort to clean it up, but no one has the time.
It's eerily quiet down here. The only sounds are the soft ticking of the clock in the kitchen and the occasional creak from the rocking chair upstairs. Moonlight filters in through the window, casting a glow upon the room that should be calming; instead, it highlights all of the objects haphazardly strewn about the couch and the table and the floor, and the overall effect is nothing short of creepy.
You take a seat on the couch, right next to a stuffed elephant that stares up at you with beady eyes—a gift from one of your aunts or some distant cousin. You run your hands over the tiny thing, wondering what its fate will be. A future favorite of your daughter's perhaps? Or will he be condemned to a life in one of the closets? His melancholy gaze seems to ask you why you even care in the first place, and truth be told, you don’t really know. Maybe you just identify with him at the moment, with a fate so unpredictable and currently feeling as though you’re stuck in some kind of middle ground where you’re neither homeless nor sheltered.
The sound of a door closing startles you from your thoughts. Slipping across the study and into your bedroom, you find Seokjin lying on the bed wide awake, his eyes still glistening. Crawling in next to him, you press yourself into his side, stretching your body over warm skin. It's nights like this that are embedded into your memory—your face fitting perfectly in the crook of his neck, his chin resting on top of your head, your arms and legs thoroughly tangled together. You lie together in near silence, his ragged breathing the only thing disturbing the quiet. You squeeze closer, willing him to sleep just as he had done with your daughter moments ago.
"I love you, Y/N," he whispers as his eyes finally slip shut.
"I know," you tell him. "I know."
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You’re sitting in the kitchen when you hear the front door open and shut.
"Honey, I'm home." His voice drifts to you from the foyer, the first lines of a ritual you had created in jest during college when you’d return to your shared apartment after days of classes.
"Hello, dear. How was work today?" is the traditional response you call back.
"Just swell, sweetheart. Just swell." He'd usually laugh after that, unable to contain his boyish amusement over how cheesy it is, but when he delivers the line today, his voice is soft and sober.
He hesitates by the stairs, leaning ever so slightly against the railing and kneading his forehead with the heel of his hand. He takes in the sight of the kitchen with all of the food that is lying around, practically covering every surface. Sighing, he moves to the sink, pressing his hands against the counter.
You stare at him, not knowing what to do, when his legs suddenly buckle and he's sliding down to the floor, shaking with sobs.
You leap to your feet, rushing over to where he's sitting up with his back against the counter and his knees pulled up nearly to his chest. Wrapping your arms around him, you brush your lips against his forehead, his ear, whispering anything and everything and just begging him to stop. Because, dammit, Jungkook and Hobi are right upstairs taking care of the baby and you don't want anyone else to see him like this. Not when he's been doing so well.
It's not long before you find that your own cheeks are wet, tears stinging your eyes. You hate having to see him this broken, hate even more how there's nothing you can do to help, how all you can do is hold him and pray that he'll get better.
Roughly ten minutes pass before his friends come bustling down the stairs to see what the commotion is. Even they can't help crying as they join you on the floor, offering hugs and words of comfort as he continues to break down.
Another half hour passes before he finally manages to compose himself and goes upstairs to see your daughter.
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You huddle outside the bedroom door, listening to Seokjin read the girl a bedtime story. Your daughter is so incredibly quiet, soaking up the words like a dry sponge. Occasionally she'll ask a question about the story or one of the characters, but for the most part, she doesn't say a word—she barely even moves.
When the story is over, you hear your husband shifting around, closing the book and putting it back on its shelf in the corner.
"Daddy?" comes your daughter's voice after a moment.
"Yeah, baby girl?"
"Did Snow White and the prince live happily ever after?"
You hear a creak as he sits back down on the side of the bed. "Yeah, sweetie, they lived happily ever after. They got married and had a beautiful little girl just like you." There's a squeal as he leans down to tickle her.
Once your daughter's laughter has subsided, she asks another question, "Daddy, did you and mommy live happily ever after?"
There is a pregnant pause where everything in the world seems to go completely still in anticipation of his answer.
"Yeah," he eventually says, voice cracking ever so slightly. "Yeah, we did."
The sound of rustling sheets fills the void as he properly tucks her in. "You need to get some sleep now. You have a big day tomorrow."
"School!" she squeals.
"That's right, baby. School."
"Is mommy going to visit me tonight since it's a big day tomorrow?"
You hear him take a ragged breath. These questions must be taking their toll on him. "Mommy visits you every night, sweetie."
"Because she loves me?" your daughter asks.
"Yeah, because she loves you."
There's a pause as the girl thinks this over. "I love mommy too, daddy."
"I know, baby. Me too." And he must be crying now because there's a telling catch in his voice.
But that's okay because there are tears streaming down your own face.
You peek your head in the doorway, watching him press a kiss to the girl's forehead before he stands, turning off the light as he leaves the room. When he passes you, you examine his face--dark shadows that weren't there five years ago lurk under his eyes and his cheekbones are more prominent than they used to be. But still, you’re proud of the fact that he hasn't completely let himself go.
Once he's gone down the hall and disappeared down the stairs, you move into your daughter's room and sit on the edge of the bed, just as Seokjin had done only moments before.
The girl is completely buried under the covers with only her head sticking out. She's a tiny little thing, with her father's dark eyes and her mother's smile. And she's smart. She's so incredibly smart, with one hell of an imagination to match.
You run your fingers over your daughter's face, her hair, but not touching—no, never touching. You can't. You simply can't. Can't touch; can't feel. Most days, you don't know if this existence that you’re living is a blessing or a curse. Because you get to see your little girl grow up, but you do this knowing that your child will never know you—she'll never know the mother who died giving her life. And on top of that, you also bear witness to every second of your husband's grief.
But right now, looking down at your daughter, you just can't regret getting to see her grow older.
You brush your lips against the girl's forehead, her nose, her cheek. Then you make yourself pull away, whispering a "Good luck tomorrow, baby" before you stand up, taking note, as you always do, of the plush elephant that's sitting on the nightstand and bathing in moonlight.
And then you leave, taking the familiar trip downstairs and into your bedroom (because no matter what it will always be your bedroom) where your husband is lying on the bed, eyes wide open. This, too, has become a sort of ritual for the two of you, even though he doesn't really know it. And yet, he never seems to be able to sleep until you’re cuddled into his side.
"I love you, Y/N," he always says right before he closes his eyes.
"I know," is your reply. "I know."
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a/n: sorry :') please remember to like/reblog!
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