#I love how fortune is drawn

[no-1-rosalind-lang-apologist]

Juliette, the Girlboss Trope, and Structural Change

From what I’ve observed, stories with “girlboss” protagonists tend to be less likely to critique existing power structures and end up focusing more on slightly tweaking surface level aspects of them to allow the protagonist to prove themselves within the context of the existing system. To me, this is extremely interesting within the context of These Violent Delights because Juliette is arguably initially set up to fulfill this archetype. Because she is a girl, her claim to the status of heir is questioned by those around her more than it would be otherwise. She feels more pressure to be ruthless and to do whatever she can to earn the respect of those around her. Toward the very beginning of These Violent Delights, she threatens to kill Tyler when he attempts to upstage her, saying that she will kill him before she lets him take her heirdom away from her. Without knowing that These Violent Delights is a Romeo and Juliet retelling, it wouldn’t be unreasonable to expect Juliette to become the leader of the Scarlet Gang and somehow fix things from the inside at the end. She is well set up to be the Strong Female Protagonist ™ who takes what is owed to her and is hardened and kickass and ruthless and doesn’t let interfering men get in her way. 

But importantly, regardless of how much Juliette initially knows it, this is a facade. The image of the hardened ruthless heir may be one that Juliette encourages, but it is a heavily distorted reflection of who she truly is. Because at her very core, though she was raised to be the heir of the Scarlet Gang and therefore should be the literal personification of the continuation of the blood feud, that is not who Juliette is. Throughout the duology, her main motivation is protecting those she loves. At first, she believes that she can do this by working within the existing system. She tries to legitimize herself as heir within the existing power structure of the Scarlet Gang. However, the Scarlet Gang Juliette is set to inherit is one built upon a foundation of fractures that legitimizes its existence through the perpetuation of the blood feud to the extent that to solve the blood feud, or even seek to calm it, would be a violation of its very nature. The Scarlet Gang could never accept a leader that sought to do this, nor could the White Flowers, who equally rely on the blood feud as a source of power, accept the figurehead of their rival gang as an ally. To do so would be a fundamental betrayal of the nature of these two groups. Thus, Juliette must choose between legitimizing her position as heir, bringing more suffering upon the people and city she loves in the process, and giving up her position as heir and forfeiting her power. 

But if Juliette forfeits her power, who does she forfeit her power to? After all, if she merely walks away, the blood feud will still exist. The refusal of one person to fall in line cannot topple an entire system. The answer comes back to Tyler who, unlike Juliette, truly is meant to represent the continuation of the blood feud. He feels the need for vengeance and hatred at his core, and is constantly suspicious of Juliette, recognizing her lack of loyalty though it is incomprehensible to him. Ultimately, there was never room enough for both of them. When Juliette threatened his life in These Violent Delights, she did so out of fear of him usurping her place. Little did she know, he already had. In representing the longevity of the blood feud, Tyler, not Juliette represents the longevity of the Scarlet Gang. While she was the heir in name, he embodied the very lifeforce of the gang. In a way, he almost represents the Juliette that could have been. And that is precisely why Juliette had to kill him.

Though Tyler’s death is foreshadowed by Juliette’s initial threat in the first book, when she shoots him in Our Violent Ends, it is not the callous, unfeeling kill of an heir pushing aside the final obstacle before claiming their rightful place at the top. Instead, it is Juliette’s final severance from the vicious cycle of the blood feud and the illusion of her status as heir. She recognizes that the power she would wield as the future leader, or even the true heir, of the Scarlet Gang stakes its legitimacy in the continuation of the blood feud, and therefore, she would lose legitimacy as a leader if she were to act against the blood feud. This is further demonstrated when Lord Cai tells her that she can choose between dying a White Flower and being heir following his discovery of her relationship with Roma, representing her direct defiance of the blood feud, and her murder of Tyler, representing her sabotage of the longevity of the blood feud and her rejection of her status as heir.

By this point, Juliette has established that she cannot live as a part of the blood feud. She put a bullet through its heart, firing on her own kin to do so. Because the blood feud has no future, she can no longer pretend to occupy the role of heir. But at the same time, in killing Tyler, she has rejected her place within the blood feud. She cannot die a Scarlet, and she cannot die a White Flower because she refuses to be either. In the end, it is not her and Roma’s apparent deaths that aid the end of the blood feud. Instead, it is their rejection of its perpetuation through their rejection of their statuses as heirs. Their continued survival after their apparent death and the birth of their daughter stands in direct defiance to the division brought on by the blood feud. Though, as is further explored in Foul Lady Fortune, this division is still very present, Roma and Juliette’s continued survival both acknowledges that the kind of change required cannot be brought about by the efforts of one titular protagonist, no matter how world ending their sacrifice, and gives hope for a better future. Unlike the girlboss protagonist, Juliette rejects the status quo and achieves her goals by rejecting power. Instead of seeking to be the figurehead of change, which would also be extremely ahistorical, she does her part and steps back, acknowledging that as a singular person, she does not and should not have the power to fix everything. In the end, she watches from the outskirts of Shanghai, and though she is doomed to forfeit her place within her home to protect the people she loves, she is safe enough to live with her husband and raise her daughter and use her remaining connections to do what she can. Because in the end, one person cannot fix everything, no matter how powerful they are. And the spark of hope represented by Juliette and Roma’s continued survival and the birth of their daughter as well as the protection offered by their weapons ring is enough. 

#disclaimer: i am not necessarily saying that that any of this is correct and true i just sort of went into a trance and wrote this #also i didn't even touch on juliette grieving for tyler and the contrast that was drawn between them there #i might revisit this and talk more about how structural change is approached throughout chloe gong's work #and/or maybe how this is continued within foul lady fortune #or maybe the difference between the girlboss trope and the morally gray thing #hopefully this is coherent #if someone wants to add onto this please do i love overanalyzing things #i was going to wait to proofread this again after sleeping but its fiiiineee #chloe gong #secret shanghai #these violent delights #tvd #our violent ends #ove #last violent call #lvc #a foul thing #aft #juliette cai #roma montagov #juliette x roma #romajuliette #mai #katherina montagova #tyler cai

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: Escapism.

Commissioned by the very lovely @twst-ophelia.

Pairing: Yandere!Dorm Leaders x Reader (TWST).

Word Count: 4.0k.

TW: Fem!Reader, Non/Con, Dub/Con, Prolonged Imprisonment, Physical/Psychological Abuse, Slight Marking, Disassociation, and Possessive Behavior.

The mirror would be ready to use, by now.

Really, that’d been your first mistake – forgetting what you’d learned during your first months in this strange new place, having enough faith in the friends you’d made and your own middling abilities to tell anyone and everyone you could find that you were finally going home. You’d been over-eager, blinded by joy, and within a week of Crowly admitting that he’d found a way to return you to your own world using the Magic Mirror, it’d been common knowledge across all of Twisted Wonderland that it’d only be a few more weeks before you were returned to your own world. Ace teased you for being so eager to drop out halfway through your third year and Grim stuck to your side with twice his usual clinginess, and despite the bittersweetness of knowing you’d likely never be able to come back, you were happy. You were alright with leaving them, so long as it meant you could go home.

And you did leave them, in a way. If you looked at it from a certain angle.

You just didn’t get to go home.

There was a wet, slick noise, then a pang of pure agony racing from your cunt to your core. Involuntarily, you jerked away from the painful sensation, but it was an effort made in vain. The heavy arm wrapped around your waist only coiled tighter, your back soon drawn flush against a broad chest. Leona’s tail swatted contentedly at the down-stuffed mattress as he let out a low, airy chuckle. “Not gonna get away that easily,” he muttered, his breath ghosting over the shell of your ear. “Remember what happened last time you tried to act-up? I don’t think the basement’s gotten any warmer.”

Basement. Calling it a basement would be like calling him a housecat. You’d been locked in that dark, frigid dungeon of a cellar for days before Azul – because he was the one you scratched, the one who got to decide how cruel your punishment was going to be – let you out, and even then, it’d taken another week of huddling by barely-smoldering fireplaces and wrapping yourself in any shred of fabric you could find to shake the chill that’d lodged itself underneath your skin. You stopped trying to lash out at them, after that. As much as their so-call ‘affection’ scared you, their anger scared you that much more.

You couldn’t be sure how they’d gotten their hands on a place like this – ancient and only a step above decrepit. Their means weren’t exactly limited, not with a prince and the heir to a fortune that might as well have made him royalty funding their little venture, but it was still hard to imagine the people you’d gone to school with keeping you locked inside of an abandoned castle, surrounded only by more woodland than you could ever hope to walk through. It might’ve been more enjoyable (or, bearable, at least) if your captors had taken a more absentee approach, if they’d given you time to adjust to being in the middle of a never-ending forest with only stone walls and dust-covered furniture for company, but no, at least one of them always seemed to be at no more than arm’s length, there to remind you exactly why you’d been relegated to the role of princess, trapped in her tower. You’d never been able to call any of them your friends, and yet, the betrayal still stung.

“Would you keep your mouth shut?” Vil mumbled, with a particularly sharp movement of his wrist. The heel of his palm ground into your clit, and against your better judgement, you withered into Leona – the sound of your pulse beating in your ears deafening, but still not enough to mask the deep, self-satisfied purr rising from his chest. “You’re frightening the poor thing. Look at her eyes – they’re practically glazed over.”

 “Is she scared, or just bored half-to-death by your shitty excuse for a handjob?” He bowed his head, nipping playfully at the corner of your jaw. Of all your captors, he was the most fond of marking what he considered to be his property – even more so if he had a captive audience. “If I was the one between her legs, she’d be feelin’ too good to think about anything else. She’d already be fucked good n’ dumb.”

“That’s not—” The air caught in your throat as Vil spread his fingers apart, but you fought to go one. “I don’t feel anything when you—”

Vil pulled out of you entirely, only for his hand to come down on your pussy with a harsh, slick crack. You couldn’t swallow back your pained cry, couldn’t stop yourself from shrinking further into Leona. “No lying, now, darling. You know how easy it is to hurt his feelings.” He paused, then glanced over his shoulders. Blearily, your attention drifted to the doorway of your bedroom – to Riddle, standing stiffly on the other side other side of the threshold. You stiffened, but Vil didn’t seem surprised. “Going to watch today, Rosehearts?”

Obviously. As complicit as they all seemed with your imprisonment, there were a few – Riddle, Idia, Azul – that withheld from treating your prolonged abuse like a group project. You’d been surprised, at first, that Vil wasn’t a part of that collective, but his tendency towards exhibitionism made sense. He couldn’t love what he couldn’t flaunt, even if his audience was limited to a handful of former classmates.

“O-of course not,” Riddle stuttered out, predictably. His pale face was tinted a nearly violent shade of red. “I just wanted to make sure you two weren’t hurting her.”

You felt Leona’s grin against your throat. “Hear that, pretty girl?  He thinks we’d hurt you.” The space Vil left vacant was quickly filled – three of his calloused fingers soon filling your drenched pussy. You clenched your eyes shut, grit your teeth, but that did little to stop him from burrowing his claws into your side and tearing a little, cracked whimper through your sealed lips. “Don’t see him doing much to stop us, though.”

Vil only offered an unimpressed shake of his head, but Riddle straightened. “Are you implying that I couldn’t—”

“I’m saying that you won’t.” Leona cut him off swiftly, the edge in his tone sharped and playful. “Not if you want the next turn.”

For a moment, Riddle didn’t say anything, didn’t do anything.

Then, with a pointed glare, he turned on his heel and abandoned your bedroom altogether, likely dedicating himself to finding another part of this terrible castle to wait Leona out in.

As soon as his footsteps faded out of earshot, Leona’s teeth were buried in the curve of your throat – drawing blood in an instant.

~

Out of all your captors, it was Kalim who’d disappointed you the most.

You hadn’t expected this from the others, but in hindsight, you wouldn’t put it above them, either. Azul had never been able to draw a line between what he wanted and what he could have, Riddle had never been able to keep his base impulses at bay for very long, and Leona… well, Leona couldn’t be bothered to pretend he was interested in things like your ‘autonomy’ or ‘independence’. Kalim, though – he’d always been nice to you. Not overly kind, but nice, and in a place like NRC, that was something you’d been able to appreciate.

It almost didn’t make sense to see him in a place like this, to connect his presence here with the looming fact of your continual imprisonment. It didn’t make sense that the boy who’d once thrown a parade to celebrate you finally accepting an invitation to one of his banquets would be resting his hands on your shoulders, his eyes fixed on your reflection in a pearl-lined vanity as he pulled what felt like the hundredth gem-studded necklace into place at the base of your throat. You didn’t need jewelry. They rarely gave you anything to wear outside of loose-fitting, sheer dresses and the occasional piece of lingerie, but Kalim would’ve plucked the moon from the sky if it meant he could give it to you in a velvet-lined box. That was what he’d told you, at least, the first time you’d turned him down.

Actually, maybe you didn’t deserve to feign surprise. They’d all tried to do it the right way before their graduations, whether it was Vil beckoning you to sit on his lap during a dorm leader meeting or Riddle turning a dozen shades of pink as he asked if you’d care to attend an Unbirthday Party as his guest, sometime. You’d turned them all down, batting Leona’s hand away before it could settle on your shoulder, telling Azul you wouldn’t trust him as a business partner, let alone a boyfriend. Between school and a new apocalypse-scenario every other week, you never had the time (let alone the energy or desire) to date, as idiotic as it sounded to suggest that any of this could’ve started with a handful of schoolyard crushes. Maybe, if you’d given them a chance to see that it wouldn’t have worked out on their own terms, it wouldn’t have come to this. Maybe, you would’ve gotten to go home.

Or, maybe, you just would’ve been snatched up before that thread of hope could ever be dangled in front of you. Either way, a preferable alternative.

“The sapphires were a better fit,” Azul chimed in as Kalim pulled the next necklace into place – a loose riviere studded with rubies. It was the fifth of as many variants, only differentiated by the color of the jewel. Kalim claimed that he’d only meant to get you one, but ever the glutton, he hadn’t been able to choose. “Red is such a garish color. Our little princess deserves to feel as royal as we treat her, doesn’t she?”

If Kalim noticed the barb, he didn’t seem to mind. “I think you look beautiful in red,” he said, leaning down to push a kiss into your temple. His smile was as bright as it’d ever been, and you hated him that much more for it. “Then again, you look beautiful in everything. Why don’t you keep them all?”

You opened your mouth, ready to tell him where he could shove his jewelry, but you were cut off by the shutter of a camera, the hint of a flash in your peripheral. You glanced towards Azul, who only shrugged in response., sinking further into his armchair “For Idia. He’s going to be tied up with a research project for another week or so, and for whatever reason, it’s fallen on my shoulders to make sure that he doesn’t completely succumb to his self-pity and throw the gates of Tartarus open.” He thought, for a moment. “For a second time, I mean.”

You couldn’t be sure why you said it. It was an instinct, a knee-jerk reaction to grab the first blade you saw and twist it. Idia was, by far, the most distant of your captors, and when he did show his face, he barely spoke and never touched you. Even in a castle of rapists and kidnappers, he’d found a way to make himself an outsider.

“Azul?” You made a point of keeping your eyes on your reflection as you went on. “Could you tell Idia I want to see him again? When he has time, I mean.”

There was a beat of silence, then another.

Finally, Kalim forced out an only partially strained laugh, squeezing your shoulders with just a little too much force. “Is something wrong? If you want to ask for something, you don’t have to wait for Idia.”

You didn’t bother trying to respond to him. “Please, Azul?”

From the corner of your eye, you watched him glance between you and Kalim. Eventually, he let out an airy sigh and nodded. “Of course, sweetheart. Although, I do have to wonder what you’re getting up to.”

Your only answer came in the form of a tight smile, a slight shrug. Kalim didn’t waste time taking up the next necklace: a choker of braided strands of pure, glittering gold. This time, he fastened it tightly enough to bruise.

~

You almost felt bad for Idia, when you let yourself think about what you were doing.

Almost.

The bare skin of his chest was warm under your palm, the flames of his hair tinted a deep pink - a color you might’ve found charming, in any other situation. He was beneath you, currently, his face half-buried in a pillow while you rolled your hips idly against his, your pace slow and careless. He wasn’t as authoritative as Leona, as demanding as Riddle, and you liked that about him. But, his submissiveness meant you had to do most of the work, which you liked less.

At least he tried to pretend that he didn’t like it. Bias caused conflict, and his occasional encounters with the others wilted before shriveling into complete nonexistence shortly after you declared him your unlikely favorite. Even now, he kept his eyes clenched shut, his bottom lip caught between his pointed teeth as your pussy clenched around him. You’d gone numb to pleasure in the first weeks of your captivity, but any amount of physical contact seemed to overwhelm him. It might’ve been refreshing, if you hadn’t been so, so exhausted.

Gradually, your movements slowed, your body stilling on top of his. A second passed before he opened one of his eyes, his kiss-swollen lips quirking downward in mixed disappointment and frustration. “W-Why did you stop?”

With an exaggerated sigh, you collapsed onto him, slotting your chest against his and propping your chin on his collarbone. “I never made it to graduate,” you said, absentmindedly, relying on the haze of lust to hide just how flat your voice was. “Never got to say goodbye to anyone, either, but that was never going to happen. The other are too mean to me for that.”

His expression took on a somber lull. It might’ve been more believable if you hadn’t been able to feel his cock twitching inside of you. “I… I’m sorry. I wanted to wait, but Azul said— and Leona—”

“I know, I know.” You kissed his cheek, then the corner of his mouth. “It’s not your fault. I just—”

You cut yourself off with another sigh, just as unbelievable as the first. Thankfully, Idia was eager to take the bait. “Whatever it is, I can do it for you. I’d do anything for you.” His shaking hands found their way to your waist. “I love you.”

“I want to see Ramshackle again,” you said, without hesitation. Immediately, you felt him stiffen against you, and let your tone drag into something desperate, something pleading. “Just this once. I won’t even go inside, and Night Raven’s on break, right now. No one’s going to be on campus.” You paused, pecked the corner of his lips. “Please, Idia. Nobody else has to know.”

He still looked skeptical, but he was going to break your heart, he wasn’t going to do it while his cock was still pulsing inside of you. After only a moment of hesitation, he let out a shallow breath and nodded hastily. “One trip. And the other never find out.”

Instantly, you brightened, beaming as you pulled him into a deep, lasting kiss – a proper kiss, this time, something you’d never willingly imitated with any of your captors. He would know that. He wasn’t the most domineering, but if the hidden cameras dotted across your bedroom were anything to go by, he had his own kind of competitive streak.

A hitched moan reverberated against your mouth. With your arms still wrapped around his neck, your chest still pressed into his, he started to move on his own – his fingers digging into your hips as he thrust into you from below. His pace was unsteady, his rhythm nonexistent, but your clit scraped against the flattened plane of his pubic bone and however meager it might’ve been, there was just enough stimulation to melt into. Vaguely, you were aware of a distant whimpering, of Idia’s face buried in the crook of your neck, but you let it fade into the background – into the constant fog of static that’d been cast over your conscious mind since you woke up in this terrible place.

When you felt his teeth scrape over the curve of your throat, it was all you could do to close your eyes and think of home.

~

“It’s a pretty basic teleportation scheme,” he’d explained, as he led you through the castle’s entryway after pulling you out of your bed in the middle of the night. The winter air cut through your thin dress without mercy, but you’d fought not to shiver, not to give him a reason to second-guess if he should be doing this. Right now, he was convinced he loved you more than he feared letting you get away, and you couldn’t do anything to break that delusion. “Ortho handled most of the hardware, but he was following my designs. The NRC waypoint was supposed to be a limited-time mechanic, but I never cut it out of the system. It should still work – for a couple trips, at least.”

You’d let him ramble about how many hours it’d taken to put together, nodded enthusiastically as he described all the effort he’d poured into ruining your life. He kept his hand locked around yours as he led you onto a shining, steel platform, only letting go to punch the coordinates into his tablet. There was a flash of light, a slight buzzing in your ears, and then, you were standing in front of the gates to Night Raven College, already open and waiting for your arrival.

You didn’t wait for Idia to move, to say anything. Rather, you let the gem shard (pilfered from one of Kalim’s more recent attempts to win back your attention; the jewel in its entirety had been larger than your balled fist) that you’d stowed away in your sleeve fall into your hand and stabbed the jagged end into his back. You didn’t wait to see if the wound took before breaking into a sprint towards the Hall of Mirrors.

You’d be able to see, later on, that it was far from the best idea you’d ever had. There was a good chance Crowley abandoned any work he might’ve started as soon as you went missing, if he really had found a way to send you hope at all. The injury you’d dealt to Idia was far from fatal, and you’d be in for more than just a few days in the cellar if they caught you, but the desire to get out of here, to go home drowned out your better judgement – leaving your tired mind empty and your body dependent on pure, unadulterated desperation as you ran towards the familiar, pitch-black dome on the outskirts of campus. Your skirt snagged on roots and twigs, your bare feet numb and aching in-turns, but you didn’t dare to slow down, to look behind you. By the time you reached the Hall of Mirrors, your throat was dry, your heart beating in your ears. Thankfully, the door had been left unlocked, and you shouldered your way inside.

The Magic Mirror stood, dark and stoic, in the center of the room. You allowed yourself a single breath of relief, a moment to let the past few months— no, the past three years of your life melt away before moving toward it.

You made it all of two, three steps before something sprung from the darkness and wrapped around your ankle – cutting into your flesh and, with a sudden jerk, dragging you to the floor. You stifled a scream, reflexively moving to tear at your new restraints, but froze when you saw exactly what you were caught in.

A thick braid of vines wrapped around your leg – except they weren’t vines, not really.

They were briars.

Rows upon rows of hooked thorns were embedded into the skin of your calf, drawing blood wherever they made contact. The pain was instant, searing, but you didn’t care – tearing at your bondage even as the thorns bit into your hands, as the rope of briars drew that much tighter. Tears blurred your vision, and so distracted by your own misery and panic, you almost didn’t notice the sound of clipped heels against marble floors, the dark shadow that soon blocked out what little light you had. You didn’t have to look at him. You already knew who it was.

In the end, though, you weren’t given much of a choice.

You really should’ve been more used to that, by now.

A gloved hand caught you by the chin, forcing you to tilt your head back and meet Malleus’ expectant, prying stare. He took a moment to evaluate your ragged dress, the bruising and love-bites painted down your neck before a small smile came to rest over his lips; the barest hint of pointed teeth catching in the moonlight. “And to think, I thought it was only nostalgia drawing me back to this lonely place.” He spared a glance toward the mirror. “And I suppose you plan to use that ancient thing to return to your own world?”

“Malleus,” you gasped his name, hoping that would be enough to communicate the depths of your despair. “I don’t have a lot of time, I— They’re coming for me, and—” You cut yourself off, swallowing harshly. “I want to go home.”

His only response came in the form of a low hum, dull and dismissive. All it took was a snap of his fingers, a certain glint in his narrowed eyes, and the mirror shattered into more pieces than you could ever hope to put back together.

This time, you couldn’t swallow back the ragged sob that tore past your lips, the pathetic noise echoing off the stone walls. You tried to crawl towards the fractured pieces, but Malleus kneeled to your height, letting out a patronizing coo as he wrapped an arm around your midriff, pulling you against his chest and suffocating any possible hope you might’ve had for escape. Distantly, you were aware of a rush of footsteps, of a collar (as heavy as it was useless) snapping shut around your neck, but Malleus didn’t falter. With your limp body in his arms, he pushed himself to his feet, turning to face your captors where they’d clustered in the entryway.

It was Leona who spoke first, predictably. He never could let anyone else be the center of attention. “What do you want, Draconia?”

Malleus, on the other hand, was in no rush, letting his gaze fall back to you. “I was surprised, when I heard of her disappearance. I know how fragile mortal lives could be, but I thought, surely, a human who’d befriended so many powerful mages ought to be a little more enduring.”

After he finished, silence hung heavy in the air. Vil summoned his spell book, and Kalim’s fists clenched at his sides, his jealousy threatening to outweigh his pacifistic nature. None of it would’ve made a difference. If Malleus wanted to, he could reduce them all to ash with little more than a wayward thought. If Malleus wanted to, he wouldn’t need five other conspirators to have you at his mercy.

And yet, he only let out a breath of a laugh, holding you that much closer to his chest. “Then again, if I’d known those powerful mages would struggle to keep watch of such a precious item, I might’ve been less generous.”

“Get to the point.”

This time, he chose to obey. “It seems,” he started, bowing his head and letting his lips brush against your cheek. “As if you’re having trouble keeping this little one in line.”

His grin was wider and more satisfied than you’d ever seen it, before. Looking at him, you could only wonder how you have bothered trying to survive in a world that so clearly wasn’t meant for you.

“Would you consider making use of another pair of hands?”

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere imagines #yandere oneshot #yandere x you #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland imagines #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #twst imagines #twst #yandere malleus draconia #malleus x reader #yandere riddle rosehearts #riddle x reader #yandere leona kingscholar #leona x reader #yandere azul ashengrotto #azul x reader #yandere kalim al asim #kalim x reader #yandere vil schoenheit #vil x reader #yandere idia shroud #idia x reader #yanderecore #yancore

[diejager]

Hi! In your Only Human AU what would happen if TF 141 + König and Horangi go into a something like a “rut”? Or is that possible in this universe? If it is would they ask Y/N for help? If possible can it be in the form of a Drabble🥺?

Rut Cw: rut/heat cycles, mention of sex, possessive behaviour, obsessiveness, mention of knotting, implied smut, tell me if I missed any.

Ruts were odd phenomenons, it reduced hybrids and monsters to desperate and horny men, clinging onto the person they considered their mate for relief and pleasure. Some hybrids had ruts, like canid and felid shifters or shifters in general, a monthly cycle that incapacitated them. Others were luckier, having a few ruts per year, sometimes once every few month or once a year; these could range from a dragon to a harpie or from a percht to a gorgon. There, however, were some exceptions, spectral beings and the undead were without ruts, their body long dead and able to function without it, yet they could impregnate and be impregnated as any other hybrid and monster could. They suffered from bouts of occasional arousal, little flares of pleasure when faced with a situation that turned them on or by strong emotions towards someone or something.

You were unfortunately enough to be thrown into a group of rutting hybrids - with the sole exception of Ghost - unprepared and without a forewarning on how to deal with them. You had to deal with a clingy werewolf, howling at the moon and whining in utter heartbreak because you told him off for humping your leg in the rec room, huffing and gasping down your neck. A hissing and possessive tiger, stalking you down the halls and jumping you whenever you were alone to ravage you against the wall, mouthing and nipping at your neck, making sure his scent would stick over the wolf and nagual musk. And a protective nagual, looming over you like a shadow, arm slung around your shoulder and ready to start a fight with the other shifters if they tried masking his scent.

Luckily, their ruts never overlapped, it might’ve been a fortunate coincidence, but one that you wouldn’t take for granted. You had a schedule drawn up in the first year after they accepted you into their pack, Soap’s was always after the full moon, the silver disk being the catalyst to his urge; Horangi had his in the later days of each month, oftentimes beginning on the last day of the werewolf’s rut; and Alejandro took the first week of the month, starting slowly on the third or fourth day and ramping up on the following day.

Unfortunately, you hadn’t put in consideration for the others. Price, Gaz and König also had their moments in the yearly cycle, falling victim to the throes of instinctual need. You thanked your lucky star that Gaz rutted once or twice a year - thrice on rare accounts - with little to no change in his character. He might’ve been more hands, wanting to keep a hand around your waist, to give you soft and loving kisses on your lips as much as he did on your cheek, nose and forehead.

Price and König were a handful, one hoarded you to his office and had you follow him wherever he went, and the other was deathly possessive and deep into his instincts. König was on the extreme side of his type, breaking out nearly six to seven times a year, stuck mid shift with broader shoulders, red eyes and a monstrous appearance, and he had half the mind to stay considerate to other. A danger stumbling on two feet. Price was the medium, a perfect balance with three or four ruts yearly and a the self control to let you go if the situation demanded it. Despite his self-control, he was still a dragon, controlling and possessive, ordering you to come straight back to him whether or not you were knotted to Soap or Rudy was balls deep inside of you.

Despite Rudolfo being considered a monster, he was simply a human with the ability to control cadejos, as vulnerable and as resilient as one. And being human meant that he got aroused, coaxing you into his room for the night and taking care of the heat brewing between your legs. Much like Rudy, Ghost retained his bodily function - human wise - and came back as a monster, but he was a stranger to ruts, scoffing at the neediness and vulnerability of one. That, however, never stopped him from indulging in his sexual kinks and dark fetishes, having you as the subject of his exploration if no one else hit their cycles.

They were a handful, from Soap’s mutt-like character to Rudy’s calm demeanour, they had you exhausted, wringing you dry and panting, always ending up face down or backed against the wall. You were grateful - truly - that the others would willingly jump in and take over for you, helping whoever it was spend his rut. Now, you’d have to redraw your calendar, tired and clinging to your bed to stand up.

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#x reader #cod mw2 #cod mw2 x reader #poly relationship #poly 141 #poly 141 x reader #ghost mw2 #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #konig x reader #mw2 smut #konig mw2 #kim horangi hong jin #horangi #horangi x reader #soap mw2 #john soap mactavish #soap x reader #captain john price #price mw2 #john price x reader #gaz mw2 #kyle gaz garrick #kyle gaz garrick x reader #alejandro vargas x reader #alejandro vargas #rudy x reader #rudy parra #monster 141 #monster 141 au

[zeldasnotes]

ᴬˢᵀᴿᴼ ᴼᴮˢᴱᴿⱽᴬᵀᴵᴼᴺˢ ³²

25 26 27 28 29 30 31

Some of the most kind people Ive ever met had had Jupiter conjunct Moon/Venus. Pure, genuine kindness.

Fama(408) conjunct Uranus can indicate overnight fame. This aspect reminds me of the people who are recorded saying something really funny without realizing it and when they wake up in the morning and see the video went viral.

Venus 10th house is common in the charts of people who work with beauty procedures with a more permanent effect like microblading, cosmetic tattoos, laser hair removal etc. People with these placements often like to get these procedures done on themselves too. Since 10th house is ruled by saturn and saturn is time they want something that lasts instead of just going to a makeupartist.

If one of your parents have Venus in the 5th house you probably hot af.

Moon/Venus conjunct Chiron can mean constantly befriending or falling for the wrong women. They are drawn to people who need healing. But what they forget is that misery loves company.

Everytime I like an artist to the point of liking EVERY song they make we had Venus 8th house synastry. There is a deep understanding here when it comes to art.

Fama(408) conjunct Moon = Soccer mom image👩🏻‍🍼⚽️🧸

People with Ceres(1) conjunct personal planets tend to be well liked.

Venus/Saturn aspects might be hated on more by older people than people their own age. Older women might comment on their looks and older men notice them.

Everytime someone throws a fit in my comments its because I said something about their Moon aspect/sign. Which kinda proves what a sensitive planet the Moon is.

Moon can show where you spend so much time to the point of living there. I read about a person in true crime who lived in her car and she had Moon in the 3rd house, Ive seen Moon in the 6th house who are at work all the time, Ive seen Moon in the 11th housers who are always at their friends house.

Mars, Nessus or Lilith in the 11th house can be keyboard warriors. 🤬💻

Part of Fortune in the 5th house makes someone blessed with extraordinary creativity.

Ive seen people with Lilith Square Jupiter might have to suffer a lot because of rebelling against cultural/religious expectations.

Mars Square Uranus are the kind of people to EXPLODE with physical energy. This makes them excellent at martial arts since they move quick. Mike Tyson have Mars Square Uranus and Pluto.

Venus in Leo in the solar return chart can make you more interested in fashion & haircare that year. 💅

Transit Asteroid Destinn(6583) was conjunct my natal Venus and Transit Moon was in my natal 7th house the day I met the love of my life. Transit Juno(3) was conjunct my natal Juno.

Transit Dejanira(157) conjunct my natal Ascendant was hell. Ive never been victimized by others like I was during that year.

Women with Lilith and Pluto aspecting the Ascendant always look so good in bloodred or jetblack hair.

Moon in the 11th house might find a lot of comfort in social media. Social media can be their escape.

Juicy Couture just screams Taurus energy to me. The soft comfy but still so rich and pretty look to the clothes and bags is pure Taurus. (I cant be the only one who relate certain brands to a sign?)🛍️

Be careful with 2nd house synastry bc it can really make you want to buy someone stuff. I dont know if its house or planet who usually wants to buy bc Ive seen both ways around. Sure it can be a positive thing but not if one is a user and the other is naive. Can also make one expect stuff from the other. 💰

Me and my lilsister have 2nd house synastry but we would never use eachother we just love buying eachother stuff and discuss food and shopping together. For us the giving goes both ways. But Ive seen other situations where one just gave and gave without getting anything back.

Most Libra Venus men Ive met made a very big deal out of what their type is. The type to let eeeeverybody know about how they only date redheads. They can become VERY into what they find beautiful.

Venus says a lot about your behaviour bc Venus is what we find attractive and ofc we act as we want to be seen. Capricorn Venuses for example tend to act in a very mature and serious way. Their behaviour really screams ”take me seriously or live to regret it.”

People with Venus/Pluto tends to get a lot of unwanted suggestions on what to do with their looks.

Transit Asteroid Destinn(6583) was conjunct my natal Venus the day I met the love of my life. And transit Juno(3) was conjunct my natal Juno.

Plutonian Moons can always spot eachother. Same with Chiron 1st house and Lilith 11th house. Thats because these placements all bring experiences in someones youth that can be easily seen on the person later in life.

©️ 2024 Zeldas Notes All Rights Reserved

#astro notes #astrology #astro observations #astronotes #birth chart readings #lilith #asteroids #ceres #fama asteroid

[the-modern-typewriter]

The Blue Key

On her first night in her new home, after a lavish dessert of strawberry cheesecake and cream, her new husband handed her a clinking set of keys across the dining room table.

“You can go anywhere in the house,” her husband told her, “except the basement.”

He showed her the key to the basement. It was midnight blue.

“Why? Is the basement where you keep the bodies?” she asked, with half a smile.

He didn’t smile back. “Do you promise me?”

She studied him carefully, feeling the weight of the basement key in her hand.

There were many keys to the house - hefty ornate keys for their front and back doors, a pretty gold one for their bedroom, a dozen little silver and brass ones for any other lock in the house that she might come across. Windows and cabinets and the like.

The basement key was almost insubstantial against her palm. Negligible. The sort of key that was easily lost, that looked like it might belong to a doll house more than a proper estate.

She couldn’t read his expression.

“You can’t tell me what’s in there?”

“I will know if you open the door,” he said, “and everything that we are will end.”

She laughed again, uncertainly, because the words were surely absurd and certainly not like him. He could have simply told her it was dangerous and so best avoided, or not given her the key to the basement in the first place. She doubted she would have given it all that much thought among all the other rooms.

Yet, his words instead piqued curiosity.

Once again, he did not smile. He stared at her solemnly, with a hint of something haunted that she had only caught flickers of during their courtship.

The laughter died in her throat.

He had been like something from a fairy tale from the moment they met; Prince Charming to pluck her out of the ashes of her drab life, even if she knew he had been married before. Everyone knew. Just as none of them had expected him to pick her. She had no experience in the running of manor houses, and no especially outstanding beauty nor fortune of her own to make up for that fault. In short, she was nothing like his first wife.

But, she had made him laugh, and she had liked him. God, how she had liked him – and liked him still – with such blushing ferocity that it almost made her dizzy.

Her new home was enormous, and beautiful, and filled with the kind of impossible luxuries that she had never even dared to dream of having. It was filled with him. She was nothing, and nobody, and he had given her the keys to be something and somebody else. Someone better. What was one small forbidden key against all that?

She knew the preciousness of privacy. Sometimes a secret could be the only thing that was really yours.

“Okay.” She bit her lip, and started to unhook the key from the ring. “Would you like it back, then? Just to be sure.”

He recoiled as if she’d drawn a knife on him and shook his head.

“Keep it,” he rasped. “Keep it safe. Keep it locked. Let it be forgotten.”

But from that moment on, though, she never really forgot about the blue key for a moment.

***

The library was probably her favourite room in her new home. It was astonishing to be able to have an actual personal library, stocked from soft-carpet and gleaming hardwood floor to cavernous ceiling with walls upon walls of books of every kind. The orphanage had maybe three books, worn and ancient, each crumbling a little more with every reading.

There were lots of stories in her husband’s books about girls with keys, girls with curiosity, heroes with something they were not supposed to look at under the pain of death or something worse.

Psyche with Eros, who was told without explanation not to look upon her perfect and mysterious host, for there could be no love without trust.

Orpheus, forbidden to glance back at his love, lest he lose her for good.

Pandora, with her strange once unopened box of evils and hope, told it was hers.

Eve, with her curiosity, with her knowledge, lured into plucking that shining forbidden fruit.

Bluebeard too, of course, with his many murdered wives, all told not to seek out their bloody predecessors behind his secret door, because – why?

Because it was a game of female obedience? Because it gave a predator an excuse to do what he did best, when he knew from the first instance that his victims would have to know? He chose them, after all. And why did they look, those wives, against all warning?

Because the uncertainty was unbearable? Because it was their home too? Because they loved the man they married and wanted to know everything there was to know of him? Maybe they wanted to save him. It was never cruelty.

The two of them were happy, her husband and her, as blissful as newlyweds were want to be.

In the evenings they would cuddle before the roaring fires, night caressing the windows, and he would read aloud from his favourite passages or play music. In the days he would work, or leave on some business or other, and she would wander the labyrinthian corridors alone and explore the many treasures tucked away behind his many locked doors.

The library could have lasted her years, but she found a room with a ceiling made of magnifying glass by which to observe the stars, a swimming pool built into the rock beneath the entrance hall, a lush garden bursting with colour that she could tend to in the sunshine.

There were servants to take care of the day-to-day running of the building, and so he did not seem to desire any particular purpose of her except to be his wife. Except for her to live in his home, in their home, and enjoy his easy company and the gifts he gave her. She found ways to keep busy. To contribute.

Thus, it took her many months to walk down towards the basement, to first look upon the door that she was not allowed to open. Spring had turned to the first icy breaths of winter.

The door was painted the same midnight blue as the key, and immaculate in condition. The lock was tiny. A dark slither, a crack, in something otherwise quite lovely.

She pressed her hand against the door and the wood was warm compared to the cool, slightly stale, underground air that filled her chest.

She dropped a hand into her pocket, fingers closing unerringly around the blue key. She tried not to touch it, not to think about it, but she had come to know it instantly by shape and feel alone. It was simply so odd to have a key so small. She had half expected the door would be in miniature too.

How could he possibly know, if she opened it? In some tales it was magic. The key would betray her. He would know by seeing it. But her husband did not want to look upon the key, he had never even mentioned it once after their first dinner.

What then was in the basement? Something so terrible that she could no longer love him? Or perhaps it was empty. Perhaps it was structurally unsound. Perhaps it was simply a test on if she would allow him that one thing that was his and his only.

She leaned down, and pressed her eye to the keyhole with a hammering heart. She didn’t know what she expected to see inside, exactly – a skeleton, or some ghoul staring back at her, or some hidden vault even. There was only darkness. Nothing to see. She straightened again, unsure if the painful feeling in her lungs was breathless relief or airless disappointment.

She walked back up the stairs.

She turned over the pages of stories in the library, and turned the key over and over in her palm, and wondered which of those many tales she was in.

***

“I think,” she said one night, as they lay in bed. “That it bothers me more that you will not tell me, than anything that could possibly be in the basement.”

He stiffened on the mattress next to her.

“Is there something I could do,” she rolled onto her side to face him, “so that you would know you could trust me with the truth?”

His expression was half-hidden in the dim light, his body made unfamiliar by slashes of moonshine slicing through the curtains. His blue eyes were open, staring up, away from her.

“You promised me that you would not dwell on the door.”

“No.” She reached out, tracing her fingers gently along the curve of his jaw, coaxing him to meet her searching gaze. “I promised I wouldn’t open it. There’s a difference.”

He snorted, but tipped his head towards her hand, planting a kiss to her knuckles.

“Can you at least narrow down the possibilities?” She pressed into the silence, because kisses were sweet but they were not an answer. “Is it something I shouldn’t see? That you don’t want me to see? Something that – I don’t know – can’t be let out? Are you the secret guardian of a nightmare world?” She attempted another smile, but it wobbled shaky. “Just give me something, and I’ll leave it alone. I just want to know. I need to know. Whatever it is – whatever it could possibly be – you don’t have to carry it alone. We’re supposed to be a team. That’s what marriage is.”

“Is my word not enough for you?” He sounded tired. “Is everything I have given you not enough?”

She scrunched up her nose at him. “You’d be happily blind, if it were you?”

“Ignorance can be bliss.”

“If you wanted me ignorant, why tell me about the key in the first place? You know me.”

They’d met on account of her curiosity, of her straying to places that she wasn’t supposed to be. He’d been visiting the library of one of the great colleges, reserved for great men like him, and she’d snuck in aching for a glimpse of the world.

Her husband said nothing.

“When you first gave me the key…” She swallowed. “You looked scared.” Her fingers, which had often brushed his in the library stacks once upon a time, grazed his pulse. It was racing. “I would fight monsters for you. Even if you’re the monster.”

As the silence stretched, she thought he might say nothing again, until the silence had grown so large that they might never reach each other across the abyss of it.

“I love you,” he said. His voice cracked. He caught her hand, entwining their fingers together, and squeezed. “Goodnight.”

The seconds ticked by into minutes, into she didn’t know how long.

“Is it a curse?” she whispered, into the dark. “If you’re not allowed or able to tell me, squeeze my hand twice.”

“Oh my god.” His voice was muffled, then, as he pulled a pillow over his face and wrenched free of her. “It’s two in the morning, darling. Go to sleep.”

***

She watched the door diligently for about a month. She didn’t think her husband had some poor creature locked up in the basement, but if he did then one would assume that either he would have to visit, or have the servants visit, in order to provide his victim some form of sustenance.

Nobody visited the basement door except her. There could not be anything living on the other side.

At least, not unless there was some other second secret door and tunnel system, hidden somewhere on the grounds. She didn’t see anyone vanish to one of those either, though. Would she, if it wasn’t on the grounds? How large a conspiracy could a little blue key possibly hold?

Would it count as ‘opening the door’ if she made a hole in the wall next to the door? 

She remembered her husband, in the college library the first time they met, spying the collection of ghost stories she’d been straining to reach. He’d grabbed it off the top shelf for her, easily, a glimmer of amusement curling his lips.

“I never really got these stories,” he’d mused. “If it were me, I would simply not have gone into the haunted house in the first place. Or, one look at a ghost and – no, no thank you. Goodbye! Have a nice life.”

She’d gaped at him.

He’d shrugged at her, and handed her the book. “But I can see that you’re a braver soul than me,” he said. “Sneaking into a place like this uninvited.”

She’d accepted the volume, clutching it protectively to her chest.

“Well,” she’d managed. “People like you are already invited everywhere, aren’t they? So you don’t have to be brave.”

He’d startled into a laugh.

She’d wondered if he would expose her to security, wondered if she should have denied it, wondered how he’d seen through her so swiftly and –

“Don’t worry.” He’d already been turning away, with a last lingering glance at her. “I can keep a secret.”

She’d only learned later who he was, and that it had been a month since his wife had died.

How, exactly, had his first wife died? The papers had said ‘tragic accident’, but there had been no witnesses. He didn’t talk about it, or about her.

No. She was being ridiculous. Maybe she had only imagined the flicker of terror on her husband’s face, the way he had flinched from the key, the rough urgency in his voice. Whatever it was, whatever it could possibly be, was not worth sacrificing what they had. There were other rooms; a dozen of them!

She buried the damn key in the garden. Out of sight, out of mind. Better that than completely losing her mind over something that probably had a completely rational explanation. Love was a leap of faith. 

She woke up the next morning to find the blue key back on the key ring, still covered with a fine sprinkling of dirt.

***

Her least favourite stories in the library were the ones about fate.

Maybe some people found such notions encouraging, comforting even in their reassurance that all of the suffering in the world was for a reason and that people could have some incredible purpose laid out for them. She’d always found the idea to be like quicksand beneath her feet, sucking her down down down trapped.

For, if it was fate, there could be no real escape. No chance. No hope.

She kept returning to the story of Bluebeard, tracing variations and retelling with the blue teeth of her blue key.

Maybe, if she was Bluebeard’s final wife, she would open the door and ultimately inherit a grand fortune, and recover from the trauma of falling in love with someone who wasn’t what they said they were.

What if she was only the second wife though, or the metaphorical third? What if her fate was to be some dead thing written only to add background colour to someone else’s happy ending?

It was all well and good of her husband to claim he would never go into a haunted house, but such declarations only really worked if one knew they were in a horror story instead of something else.

“Do you think, maybe,” she asked her husband as winter turned back to spring, “that we could go away somewhere?”

They strolled through the gardens, his arm wrapped protectively around her frail shoulders. Ever since the key incident she had found it difficult to sleep, to eat, to not find herself worrying about the door like worrying a hangnail until she tore off bloodied scraps of her own skin.   

The house, which had once seemed so large to her, had turned into something suffocating. She had no friends in the area, and however far she went along the grounds in the lonely hours of her husband’s working, the door would always be there for her and the key would always be in her pocket. The questions, the creeping doubts, would buzz in her brain like flies swarming a corpse.

“Go away?” He seemed surprised. “Is there something else that you need?”

She had tried simply hiding the key, then stayed up all night staring at the key ring laying on her bedside to try and catch the culprit who’d dug it up from beneath the roses.  One of the servants must have brought the damn thing back, right? Perhaps, the housekeeper? She got the impression that the severe woman had never really approved of her, never liked her. She was not as impressive and perfect a candidate as his first wife had been.

She had seen nothing, but when she fell finally into an exhausted slumber, the key had been waiting for her.

“I just thought it might be nice for us both to get away for a while,” she said. “A holiday. You’ve been so busy with your work.”

She had tried burning the key. It did not burn.

“There is a lot to do,” he said. “This is a large estate. It takes – management, a lot of care.”

“Perhaps I could help you?”

“It is not your burden, darling.”

“But it’s yours? A burden?”

The key, whatever it was, had to be of some supernatural origin. Of that she was increasingly certain. Well, the ghosts were in the house, so to speak, and he wasn’t leaving! He wouldn’t look at her, his attention fastened on the first snowdrops shoving their heads from beneath the hard earth.

“Tell me,” she said. “Or come away with me, please.”

He glanced at her, then.

She reached into her pocket and held up the blue key.

He turned away, quickening his pace as if he couldn’t wait to get away from it too.

“Where,” he said the next morning, “would you like to go, love?”

At the sea side, she tossed the key into the water when he wasn’t looking. If it was the servants, if there was any chance that something in the house was messing with her, with them, then even its evil reach could surely not reach beyond the borders of the property?

It was better for a while, after that. They were both lighter on holiday, away from his family home, with all of its history and responsibility.

The house on their return, waiting for them as it always was and would be, felt new and full of possibility again. They kept laughing over their first dinner back and fell asleep still high on love and freedom and everything they were supposed to be.

The next morning, impossibly, the blue key was on the key ring again.

She started to cry.

“I’m sorry,” her husband said. The colour had leached, stricken, from his handsome face. He looked older. Exhausted, too. His eyes were dark. “I wish—” He fell silent. He reached out to her, and she recoiled. “I’m sorry.”

“You wish what?” It came out whip sharp.

He said nothing. 

She shook her head, the laugh on her breath not really a laugh at all. Of course, he would still not tell her.

“If you don’t tell me,” she said, “everything that we are will end. You understand that, don’t you?” She fumbled the key off the ring and hurled it onto the sheets between them. It sat there, so disgustingly innocuous looking, a glint of blue among the white. “This isn’t fair. This is – sick. Take it back.”

“I know.” He folded his arms, less great man, more frightened child hugging himself. He stared down the key like an old enemy. “I know.”

“Or,” she said. A plea edged into her tone. “We could leave. For good. Let this house, let that door, be forgotten. That’s what you want, isn’t it?”

He shook his head, less ‘no’ and more ‘I can’t’ and more ‘I’m sorry’.

She squared her shoulders, even as his slumped. “Tell me, at least, if I should go. You love me, right? If there was something rotten in that basement, you would want to protect me from it, wouldn’t you?”

“You can go,” he said. “If that’s what you want. That’s always been your choice.”

She stared at him.

He looked haunted, hunted, and he had known all along that the key would always end up back on the ring, hadn’t he? That was why he hadn’t simply taken it off when he first gave them to her. She would have thought he didn’t trust her if he’d never given her the keys to her own home at all too, wouldn’t she?

She debated leaving him. She debated walking out the house and – what?  

He looked so broken.

She sighed, the defiant fury sluicing off her shoulders too. She rounded the bed and craned up on her toes to kiss the lost furrow of his forehead.

“Just ignore it,” he said, clutching her hands. “Just ignore the door, and we can be happy.”

“Darling,” she said. “You don’t seem happy here.”

She kissed his lips, like packing up a suitcase, and snatched the blue key back up off the sheets.

Then she went down to the basement and opened the door.

#idk a story of mine I don't know what to do with #short story #fiction #bluebeard #fairytales #writeblr #writing #my writing #creative writing

[mrchiipchrome]

Work

W.C. - 1.2 k

a/n: I’ve been having so much fun dealing with migraines, a break up, exams and getting an eye infection that I’ve totally forgot to write, so take this as a sort of apology:)

———————

It wasn’t hard to be the best footballer in the world’s girlfriend. All things considered, life with Aitana was pretty good, amazing even, if it weren’t for Aitana’s incessant need to ask people if they were employed.

It started small, when Aitana first met your family in Sweden, she had asked your brother whether he worked or not, happy when he started raving about his work, happy to find someone as passionate about their work as her.

Since that interaction it seemed like she searched that passion out in every interaction she had, going as far as to climb over rows of seats in order to speak to people.

She was nothing short of a social butterfly, and you were her anti-social caterpillar. The Swede in you was drawn to the Spanish affectionate nature even if it was vastly different from your own.

Your tiny girlfriend was as much of a magician on the pitch as she was off it, her ability to simply vanish the second you took your eyes off her was quite impressive, but not very enjoyable on your part. You almost had to invest in a private investigator to figure out how she did it, the way she always fooled you simply driving you crazy to the point of oblivion.

Still, you loved her strange habits simply for the fortune of having her, having her in every way imaginable.

You loved getting to hold her even as she squirmed to get away, kisses raining down on her face after a long game, using your substantially taller frame to put some space between her feet and the ground so that she wouldn’t be able to get away.

———————

Your muscles ache as your feet thump against the ground, the last game before a small break one of great performances, you yourself slipping 4 goals past the keeper, all of them assisted by your wonderful girlfriend.

Still, despite your obviously tired appearance, you were still ushered away to the corner of the pitch for an interview, being handed a man of the match award for your efforts during the game. This meant that your girlfriend was left unsupervised, your tired mind mixed with needing to seem professional before the camera completely taking up all your attention, meaning you didn’t immediately notice your girlfriend beelining for the stands.

“So, how does it feel to be back in the squad after the hamstring injury?” The reporter looks at you intently, trying her hardest to stare into your soul, or that’s at least what it seems like.

“Yeah, I mean it’s always special to be part of this squad, I’m not even going to lie and say that it’s been easy sitting on the bench when all I wanted was to jump on the field and score again but ultimately I got through it. I’m really happy with the performance as well, my beautiful girlfriend assisted all my goals so that makes it even better.” You smile widely when you mention your girlfriend, seeing through half-lidded eyes as the reporter's smile drops before she plasters it back on.

‘No need to be unprofessional now’ you think to yourself, looking away from her in search of that girlfriend to see if she could save you from the creepy situation.

But in your attempt to catch your girlfriend’s attention, you see her about to climb over the railings to talk to fans. You know that it’s dangerous, not only because of the altitude, but also because you never knew the intentions of some fans.

Somewhere in the background you can hear the reporter speaking to you, but you don’t pay her any mind, simply getting more anxious the longer you are standing there.

“It has to be special to be back with your teammates-”

“Perdón!” Is all you’re able to get out before you take off in Aitana’s direction, your legs no longer aching thankfully enough.

Your hands latch around her hips, tugging her softly away from the railing like you would a cat that had burrowed its claws into the couch. Aitana yelps as she looks back at you suspiciously, her hands coming down to rest on your shoulders when she realized that she didn’t have any plan of escape, seemingly just accepting her fate.

There are multiple cameras pointed at you, including the social media manager’s, so you just know that the interaction would find itself on the internet by the time you would be sitting in the bus.

Strangely enough, you didn’t mind that fact all that much, liking that the world would see how much you loved your girlfriend, maybe it would discourage reporters from trying to shoot their shot with you.

“Hey there pretty lady, whatchu’ doin’?” Aitana smiles at you innocently, acting like she totally didn’t try to climb over the railings. She presses a quick kiss to your cold cheek, enjoying the way your face darkens a few shades, the red spreading up your cheeks like food coloring in water.

It leads her to continue, kisses soon being placed on every single space on your face, with you soon blending in with the tomatoes you were growing in your garden.

“You are very cute.” She whispers lowly, her eyes flitting over your face as she smiles, keeping the words between the two of you like it was a secret only meant for your ears. Perhaps it was, you never knew with Aitana.

“And you are trying to distract me from the fact that you were totally trying to climb up into the stands. You’re lucky to be adorable, because Jona is one more abandoned interview away from benching me.” You boop her nose, shifting her body around so that your left arm was the only thing holding her body up, her arms still around your shoulders.

Walking back towards the interviewer, her professional smile drops from her face the second she sees Aitana perched on your arm, but nonetheless you approach her civilly. Aitana smiles brightly at the camera soon pointed at her again, media training mixed with the attention she’s getting from you being the perfect situation for the camera.

“Hola, lo siento, this one was getting herself into trouble. Had to get her out, don’t want the gaffer to bench the superstar now do we?” You motion towards Aitana with your head, the girl still sitting perched atop your arm slapping the back of your head lightly. Switching her around again, you quickly put her down back on her own feet, Aitana’s arms coming down to wrap around your waist tightly, almost possessive in a way.

“Thank you for today, that was all we needed. Here’s your man of the match trophy.” You get handed the trophy, turning to your girlfriend to brag, only to find her gone once more, her small body shooting across the pitch to get as much space between you two as she could.

It was almost as if you could see into the future as she jumps up and throws herself over the railings, giggling madly along the way.

You start to laugh too, the high speed chase the biggest highlight of the day, because not even scoring 4 goals could overshadow spending even a second laughing with your girl.

And even though Mapi would be teasing you for weeks about the absolute lovesick actions that day, you wouldn’t have it any different, besides you had more than enough ammunition to be able to blackmail her for eternity, so it didn’t really matter anyways.

#woso #woso x reader #barcelona femeni #woso imagines #barcelona femeni x reader #aitana bonmati #aitana bonmati x reader #stay tuned for the Alessia fic it’s currently at 9.6 k words:)

[art]

Creator Spotlight: @chaaistheanswer

Hi everyone! I am Clara, but you can also call me chaa! I am a digital artist based in Auckland, New Zealand, with a bachelor’s degree in Creative Media Production. After graduating from uni, I moved out to pursue my art career and I’ve been a freelance digital artist ever since. I love concept art, especially character design! Creating characters influenced by my love for fantasy is what I live for. Thank you for stopping by, and I hope you enjoyed my art! And thank you, Tumblr, for this opportunity!

Check out our interview with Clara below!

Did you originally have a background in art? If not, how did you start?

I specialized in art in high school and have a bachelor’s degree in Creative Media Production from Massey University with an animation pathway. For our thesis film, which I worked on with several of my classmates, I took on the role of producer, art director, and concept artist. Our short film was featured in the Wellington Film Festival Terror-Fi in 2020. After graduating, I went on to become a freelance artist, but my goal is to work for the gaming industry as a character concept artist. Ever since I first picked up a pencil, I knew I wanted to become an artist!

Have you ever had an art block? If so, how did you overcome it?

Art block is quite common among artists, and unfortunately, I too have fallen prey to the affliction. I have several ways of overcoming art block: watching movies, playing games, reading, or going out for a drive with my sister. These are just a few things I love to do to help keep my creative juices flowing!

What is one habit you find yourself doing a lot as an artist?

I tend to obsessively research about completely unrelated topics while I draw. I find learning new things helps improve my concept designs, especially in creating backgrounds for my characters.

Over the years as an artist, what were your biggest inspirations behind your creativity?

Video games and anime were my biggest inspirations! Anything with a captivating story that’ll send me to the edge of my seat, and loveable characters. I’m particularly drawn to high and dark fantasy.

How has technology changed the way you approach your work?

Technology has made a huge impact on us artists over the last few years. I used to draw a lot on paper, but since getting a tablet, I find myself searching for the undo and redo buttons and even trying to zoom constantly while I draw on paper. I used to only draw for myself as well, but after posting my art online, I now have an audience to whom I can share my art. Because of this, I am able to earn a living doing what I love by creating illustrations for clients.

What is a recent creative project that you are proud of?

I am very proud of this recent commission I’ve done for a client! Fortunately, the piece turned out exactly how I wanted it to look, and my client was very happy with the result. I am also in the process of working on a Webtoon, which is going as smoothly as I hoped it would be before its re-release!

What advice would you give to younger you about making art that's personal or truthful to your own experiences?

The best advice I would give my younger self is to never hold back! Try not to think about the negatives of creating and sharing art that you believe in. Embrace vulnerability, and don’t be afraid to dig deep into your own emotions and experiences. Always explore, and don’t limit yourself to your own bubble. And most important of all, stay true to yourself! Stay true to your values and beliefs, and never compromise your own authenticity for the sake of pleasing others. Your art is a reflection of you as a person.

Who on Tumblr inspires you and why?

@yuumei-art has been an inspiration to me since my early Deviantart days. I admire how she uses her skills to focus on environmentalism and cyber activism. @nipuni is another inspiration of mine. I found her when I was in the process of recovering from Dragon Age Solavellan hell. I admire how she manages to capture faces well while also sticking to her style. Her paintings are so beautiful and very pleasing to my eyes!

Thanks for stopping by, Clara! If you haven't seen her Meet the Artist piece, be sure to check it out here. For more of Clara's work, follow her Tumblr, @chaaistheanswer!

#creator spotlight #artists on tumblr #chaaistheanswer

[mondaymelon]

₊˚ෆ 𝐒𝐍𝐎𝐖𝐅𝐄𝐋𝐓 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐅𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 | lyney, neuvillette, wriothelsey x gn!reader

( i am fully aware snowfelt is not a word. shhhh just please. ignore it. let's have another silly year together, yeah? )

⤷ they confess to you! reader has liked them for a while beforehand, fluff to start off the year ~ (psps i kn o w its the 23rd but writer's block whammied me against a wall and held me hostage for that time so. its really not my fault /lh)

[ in the dying light of fireglow, hands intertwined below a blanket, they turn to gaze into your eyes, speaking three words... ]

"Cold, are we? Shall I warm you up?"

Ah, but the playful grin tugging at LYNEY's lips already provides you with a sufficient, kindled warmth nestled deep into your chest. The snow cascading beyond the windows, curtains half-drawn over the glass, revealed the picturesque scenery, the land that had grown familiar to you dusted with white… your thoughts were dispersed with a light shake of your head just as the winter breeze swept over the snow. 

The male smiles as you nudge yourself closer to his side, and with a swift snap of his fingers, sparks heat in the fireplace, a blaze whose flames licked the bricks of its ensnarement. Unfair, really, simply unfair, how with such an effortless movement he swept you into your arms, reddened your already flushed, cold-bitten cheeks. “Warm yet?”

“...Too warm,” you manage a complaint, voice barely audible with how tightly you were pressed against him. “You’re suffocating me, Lyney.” At your words, his seemingly unconscious vice-like grip loosened, allowing you a breath. 

“Better?”

“Better.”

The world was quiet. Silent, for not even the wind dared utter a noise. No, that couldn’t be true, for if that were the case, then what were you to make of the persistent flutter of your heart? It was the way his gaze drunk you in that allowed you to dream of such a misunderstanding that he might share the sentiment, with the sight of you cuddled tightly in his arms, your slightly messy hair after he had ruffled it and the rosy cheeks that could possibly bring the most minuscule warmth to his face. 

“Thank you.” Your voice was quiet, it felt small, too small for your liking. Why were you even thanking him? What had he done for you? A lot. Simply too many to count. With his playful demeanor, certainly someone like you wouldn’t be well suited to him. Perhaps it was just a haphazard coincidence that allowed the two of you to meet, or perhaps just a cruel twist of fate that had decided to toy with your heart before discarding it. Either way, these feelings are safeguarded, nestled along with the warmth in your chest… they were quiet.

“For what?” Lyney’s jest of a smile tugged at his lips. “Why, have you finally realized that I’m quite the respectable person after all this time?”

“No,” you playfully hit his chest. Ever since the first encounter, the male had chased after you with reckless abandon, somehow managing to find you in just about any situation you were in. Watering the flowers that lined the streets, discussing work matters with the civilians, he’d appear out of thin air beside you, almost like magic. With a boyish grin on his face and a word or two whispered into your ear, “So this is where you were~” ...You shook your head, ears only growing redder at fortunate past thoughts. “You still remain a stalker, it’d be foolish to hope for anything more.” 

To hope for something more… what a hypocrite, you were. Your own words burned your tongue, the consequence of such a sin.

“Is it wrong to hope?” Lyney’s smile remained, but his tone grew serious. The faint twinkles that shone in his lavender eyes evidently bore his “wrongful” hope. “To wish that perhaps one day, I’ll mean more than just a ‘stalker’ to you?”

Your breath hitched. Say, didn’t these words… sound familiar? Didn’t they resemble lines read from those light novels from Inazuma, covers decorated with roses and sparkles? “Lyney, you-”

“I love you.”

Your words have escaped you. Countless, countless words. Each of them grow wings and flit away. 

“Ah, would it be too cliché to call it a love at first sight?” Lyney let loose a sigh, grinning sheepishly with a shake of his head. “But that was exactly what it was. The second I saw you… my, how generic I sound. Would it be too much to stomach if it was from that moment that I knew?” He paused, pursing his lips. They pressed into a tight line. When he spoke again, his voice was quieter. “I won’t be hopeful. I know better than that, and you’ve said it yourself. Let’s just… would I go too far if I wished to remain by your side? Not as a lover, surely, but a companion, or a mere acquaintance-”

“Lyney.”

His name is familiar in your mouth. It rests easy on the tongue.

“As a lover. That. That’s what… I want.”

The curve of his lips says well enough before he even opens them.

“Then, as your lover… may I kiss you?” ₊˚ෆ

“Are you feeling alright?”

His words were soft against the cold air, and NEUVILLETTE’s pale-eyed gaze even softer. Fontaine had had its first taste of snow, and with it came its cold finger tips that thoroughly dusted whatever it touched, the streets and tops of buildings painted a brilliant white.

“Yes, it’s just… Aren’t you cold like this?” The male, upon seeing you give the slightest shiver at the sudden drop in temperature, had immediately rushed over and taken off his coat for you to wear instead, where it was now draped comfortably over your shoulders. Warm, and it carried his scent. “I’d feel bad if you were to feel unwell because of me, so please, take it back?”

“Now, that’s something I simply can’t do,” His lips drew the slightest smile, a rare sight you were delighted to witness - the way his eyes crinkled at their corners and twinkled all the more was a pleasant one to experience indeed. “I’ll be fine, I can assure you. It’d take more than just a winter breeze to incapacitate me.”

You furrowed your brows, puffing out your cold-flushed cheeks before making a cross with your arms. “Nope, no can do! We’re heading back to my place, and I’ll brew some hot tea. No complaints, we’re going!” Before the man could utter another word, presumably a word of protest, you took him by his gloved hand and started running forwards. Full well, you knew Neuvillette was certainly at a better physique than you were, but you really just needed an excuse to hold his hand.

Why, exactly? The answer was rather simple.

While you weren’t enamored with him to begin with… after all, how could one be like that towards the respectable iudex of Fontaine, your curiosity got the better of you the moment you realized the stoic man suspiciously resembled one of Fontaine’s many creatures, the otter. The colors, the mannerisms, truly, it all paired up in an uncanny fashion. Somehow, along the line of approaching and getting to know him, you had caught feelings. It was almost funny, how they could sneak up on you like that while your guard was down. Except, now that you had them, what were you supposed to confess? “I started to like you when I realized you were practically an otter, love!”...Ugh, how embarrassing would that be? Imagining his handsome features scrunched with displeasure at your offense is one thing about Neuvillette you wished not to behold.

"...Ahem." Curses, you had been holding his hand for far too long to just laugh it off. You blinked yourself out of your past reminiscence, finding yourself faced with a rather concerned Neuvillette. "Apologies, you weren't responding, so..."

"No matter, are we here already?" You coughed into your first awkwardly, quickly letting go of Neuvillette's hand, however warm his touch may be. Unlocking the door, you swiftly swung it open, letting Neuvillette enter and then shutting it behind you. If you’d known that he’d be coming over - you had unconsciously invited him to your residence - you would’ve cleaned the space up a bit more. Nothing you could do about it now, you supposed. “There’s nothing special, you can make yourself at home while I go fetch some refreshments for us.”

“There’s no need for that.” Neuvillette held up a hand to stop you. “I’m quite alright, and if anything, I’d be delighted if you allowed me to brew your tea for you.”

“What? No, you’re my guest, you shouldn’t possibly-!”

“Ah ah, no complaints. I held mine back, so you should do the same, no?” Great, since when had he started getting clever with his words? “What I need you to do is to go get a blanket and sit at the fireplace. Where do you keep the tea?”

You let out a begrudging sigh. “Fifth cabinet.”

“Thank you.” You did as he asked with less than an enthusiastic self, and managed to light the fireplace before Neuvillette returned from the kitchen, carrying a tray that held two cups and a steaming teapot.

You raised an eyebrow at him as you took your cup, warm to the touch. “My, I didn’t expect you to have any complaints, dear Sir Iudex of Fontaine.”

“...Complaint? Ah,” Neuvillette’s eyes rounded when he realized what conversation you were referring to. “Hm, it’s rather embarrassing to say, however… well, since it was a precious day off, I figured I’d take you somewhere special, to the Opera House or wherever, but instead I’m here interfering in your home… it’s certainly not ideal, is it? My apologies.”

There was a moment of silence, accompanied by the crackle of flames. “Archons, is that what you were thinking with such a downcast expression?” You laughed, seeing his expression brighten. He was perhaps a little too predictable. “I don’t mind, Neuvillette. I was the one who invited you here, so there’s no need for you to feel ashamed that you accepted it. Besides…” you inched closer to him, grinning. “Every moment with you is special enough, it doesn’t take somewhere ‘special’ to make it so, hm?”

The man remained silent. Had you gone too far with your reassurance? His pale cheeks were flushed, had he become so enraged that his face had gone red? Certainly not, for he whispered your words like an echo. “A special moment, you say?” A tilt of your head was enough of a response. “Then…”

“I love you.”

“...Pardon?” The smile on your face slipped, and your ears rung with the gravity of his words. Perhaps you had grown so desperate that the only way to appease that mind of yours was to form auditory hallucinations? You had surely dropped to new, unprecedented lows.

“I love you.”

There’s just something about that gaze of his that makes you want to cry in his arms. Something about it that makes you want to be held by him, to feel the warmth that he holds in the way he simply looks at you, to bask in it like sunlight, to feel loved.

“I love..”

“There’s no need to say it again, Neuvillette.” His face falls, and his beautifully damned eyes grow wide. “I heard it the first time.” You can sense that he’s bracing himself for a response, with the way the smile on his lips draws tight and his stance grows rigid. “To think that you’d be the one confessing to me, why, this was certainly not the vision I had imagined a thousand times over in my head.”

You can see the hope in his eyes. You would never dare crush it, your heart beats for him. “I love you, Neuvillette, so repeat it just one more time, would you?”

And just like that, he melts in your arms.

“Yes, darling. I love you too.” ₊˚ෆ

“My, I didn’t expect to see you here!”

Standing up from his desk, WRIOTHESLEY’s eyes are bright with excitement. 

“So surprised, aren’t you?” You lean on his doorway with a fond smile as he embraces you in a quick hug. You smile as he draws back, “Why, am I not allowed to visit the poor duke, cooped up here with nothing but paperwork to satisfy his boredom?”

Your words were true, and they’d struck a note inside him. The Fortress of Meropide was quiet, almost too quiet these days. Sure, there was the persistent, eternal sound of turning gears and bursts of steam, and the never-ending crinkle of paper under his hands, but with most of the prisoners turning in a little earlier due to the cold, the hallways that were usually filled with chatter that he’d proclaim as “distracting” were no more. Monotonous was the crackle of the flames in the fireplace, but the sound of your eager footsteps rounding the hallways was a welcome sound indeed.

“Certainly not, I wouldn’t lie through my teeth and say that your presence is unwelcome.” His lips were curled upwards in a grin, his husky voice bearing the melody of delight. 

“I’d imagine.” That sneaky smile on your face is almost alluring in the pale light. “Stuck in this office of yours doing tedious tasks for the foreseeable future is not the ideal form of entertainment for most Fontainions.” 

A scoff, a playful one. “Then, have you come to help me with said paperwork?”

The shake of your head was instant, so much so that the man could’ve sworn it came out of instinct. “Most definitely not, Wrio. It’s rather unfortunate to say, however…” You let out a great sigh, one foreboding terrible news. Even your eyes began to tear up at their corners, and your expression became dramatically crestfallen. “I’m afraid this empty head of mine has suddenly become illiterate!” 

Wriothesley swallowed a laugh that almost dared surface and instead feigned a dramatic gasp, a hand over his mouth that had widened with shock. “Oh, dearest me! What a predicament… Then, what have you come to visit me for, pray tell? To sit and stare at me?”

You shrugged your shoulders, expression blank. “To be fair, I don’t exactly know either. I wanted to see you, and my feet just brought me here.” It wasn’t a complete truth, but not exactly a lie either. You had wanted to see him - partially to admire his strikingly handsome features, but also just to, well, exist in his presence. As much as he’d deny it, Wriothesley hated the idea of being apart from you, and his unchanging situation as the duke of the Fortress of Meropide didn’t aid that information. That, and the fact that ever since you had seen him simply strolling through the city, the slightest wind ruffling his dark locks and that sharp gaze of his staring ahead of him, you’d been utterly captured. While clichés weren’t exactly your forte, you had to admit that he was a case of “love at first sight”. And while you had fallen for his looks, his disposition wasn’t something to simply brush aside. Funniest thing? He’d been the one to approach you, striking up a conversation while you were merely having a drink at a nearby cafe, asking if you’d seen a certain wig-wearing dog.

“Excuse me, I’m so sorry to bother you, but have you seen a dog around here? He has a top hat, brightly colored hair, is wearing a suit covered in stickers…”

After joining him on the chase around just about the entirety of Fontaine, the two of you managed to find the missing dog, who was actually a stray being taken care of by a melusine Wriothesley was familiar with, and return it. One thing led to another, and the two of you grew from strangers, acquaintances, and now to friends. Surely, it’d be terrible to wish for something more, wouldn’t it?

“Just tell me you missed me.” Wriothesley’s grin had returned, and he chuckled. “You’re not doing the greatest job of hiding it.”

“So what if I missed you?” You pouted, finally moving past the man and into the office, eyeing the papers on his desk before making yourself comfortable next to the fire. “And who said I was hiding it, dear duke?”

Wriothesley paused for a beat before continuing in his regular fashion. “You’re being rather bold today, aren’t you? Your words… they’re making it easy to misunderstand.”

“Misunderstand all you want, does it matter?”

“Yes, it does.”

“N-”

“Let’s stop speaking in riddles. Make yourself clear, hm? What’re you trying to pull with all these questions?” Wriothesley crossed his arms over his chest, leaning closer. “What, are you trying to be a flirt?”

“Aaaand if I am?” You smiled at his actions, not exactly sure what was spurring you onwards. 

“...Damnit, you… archons, you just won’t listen, will you? No matter, it just makes things easier for me. Hey, flirt, you won’t get all flustered if I say this then, yeah?”

“Say what-”

“I love you.”

That was certainly a way to catch someone off guard. “... the fuck-”

“No need to react that badly, all right?” Wriothesley let out a sigh of defeat, leaning his head against the wall as he sat down next to you. “I didn’t say it for the sake of saying it. It’s true. I’ve been wanting to tell you for some time now, but..” He chuckled, a laugh that was void of what a laugh should have. “I’m rather a coward.”

“I-I didn’t mean to answer like that, you just caught me by surprise-” You shook your head, cursing at yourself for sounding so pathetic, with your trembling voice and words that stuttered every syllable. “...And by your definition…” You drew your knees closer to yourself, hugging them to your body. “I’m a coward as well.”

It takes him the count of three to respond, eyes blown wide. “...Wait, you-” The flush on his face was undeniable.

“I like you too, Wrio.”

“Archons, I… give me a moment. I’ve been wanting to hear that for so long, I think my heart has stopped beating.” ₊˚ෆ

(a/n) greetings my beloved melons. hello. ive risen from my grave to presumably and hopefully be alive for the next couple months. my reqs are all still full so i will be tryna get through em but at the same time i will be doing self indulgent fics. so udhaofjsdlf yeahd ahhahahahaa thats pretty much it on daily melon talk im going to answer my plethora of asks tomorrow because i know your dashboard wont be able to handle it if i post this and then answer 15 miillion asks. you are ever so welcome. also i always hate the way i write wriothelsey and this time was no exception this was so painful blegh ajlfksdmc

໒꒱ || ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ (open! send an ask or a comment ♡) : @manager-of-the-pudding-bank, @iamdedinside, @ilyuu, @achlysis, @swivy123, @scara-is-my-wife, @lupicalbestwolf, @justyoureader, @fiannee, @aether-darling 

reblogs are appreciated! line up for a smooch. mwah!!

#★ ˎˊ˗ mondaymelon #astronetwrk #favoniuslibrary #lyney genshin #lyney x reader #lyney #wriothesley #wriothesley x reader #neuvillette #neuvillete x reader #genshin impact #genshin fanfic #genshin imagines #genshin headcanons #genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin oneshots #genshin fluff #wriothesley genshin #neuvilette genshin #neuvillette x reader #genshin impact x reader #x reader #reader insert #genshin drabbles #x gn reader #genshin x gn reader #genshin fanfiction #lyney x you #wriothesley x you

[awfcspencer]

Steal Your Heart || alessia russo x reader

prompt: Loosely based on this request

warnings: None!

Stepping on the Arsenal training pitch, you were greeted by the familiar sounds of football, shouts and laughter echoing across the field, and the thud of balls being kicked. You couldn’t help but feel a mixture of excitement and nerves, a sense of anticipation in the air. As Arsenal’s newest transfer during the January window, you were eager to prove yourself on the pitch and cement yourself as a vital piece to North London. Having recently arrived at the club after a particularly rough break up, you were determined to focus solely on your football career, swearing off love in the process. 

Your attention was soon drifted away from your thoughts to a familiar figure of Alessia Russo, one of Arsenal’s beloved strikers and England’s star girl.

“Did she just trip over her own two feet?” You questioned to Leah, the blonde center back who was put in charge of showing you around the Arsenal facility before training. Pointing to the slightly taller blonde who seemingly tripped over thin air and fell roughly onto the pitch. She ungracefully pushed herself up off the ground, wiping her now pitch-stained knees, and shuffled around to act as if nothing happened. 

“She probably did. That is Alessia, most of us call her Less though. She will most likely be the clumsiest person you will ever meet.” She explained to you as your mouth curved into a small smile. Her cheeks were rosy, most likely from embarrassment, but you found it adorable. 

She then led you to a man in unusually larger puffer jacket and several of Arsenal staff members you had met earlier in the day. 

“Welcome to the Arsenal. We are thrilled to have you here.” The Swedish man told you, reaching out to shake your hand. The weather in London was much colder than you were used to, but you didn’t suppose a sunny day like today warranted such a big jacket. You had to carefully stifle back your laugh and cover it up with a warm smile as you shook his hand. “Hope Leah was sufficient in her tour.” 

“Yeah she was great! Showed me the important stuff and introduced me to Win.” A dimpled smile as you remember the chocolate lab who you gave several scratches on the head to, and then she rewarded you with a few licks to the face. 

“Great! Girls get in partners, and we will begin training.” He yelled out.

Most of the girls already had their designated partners, quickly picking each other and heading towards the pitch, so you were left stumbling to find someone to partner up with. A tap on your shoulder and a slight swivel of your head you were met with the familiar figure of the blonde from before.

“Partners?” 

“Sure…” She had yet to properly introduce herself directly.

“Alessia, but most people call me Less.” She responded quickly.

Kicking the ball back and forth warming up the legs, you and Alessia fell into a comfortable conversation. She had a particularly bubbly personality and seemed interested in the answers you had given to her questions. You couldn’t help but feel drawn to Alessia and her awkward charm.

“How are you liking North London?” She sent you a solid pass to your right foot as you kicked it back to her.

“I landed only a few days ago so I haven’t really had the time to explore yet.” Apartment hunting had taken a majority of your time, but you were dying to experience what this side of London had to offer. 

Fortunately, your sister lived in London, and you were able to crash on her guest bed before you had the time to sort out an apartment for yourself. She was there for you over the phone to pick up the pieces of your broken heart when rumors of cheating flooded into social media after your ex was caught bringing another woman to your shared home when you were on national team duty. The Arsenal bid came a few days later and you gladly accepted, fleeing the city in which haunted your memories.

“I get that. There is a coffee shop right near training grounds that has coffee to die for. You have to give it a try sometime.” She suggested. 

Weaving in between agility poles interlocked with your teammate’s hands was not initially how you thought today’s training was going to go, but the blonde’s angelic laugh behind you as you pulled her hand to follow in your trail was all worth it. Especially when she had been moving so fast to keep up with you that by the time she left the poles she stumbled out tripping over her own feet once again.

“Less you might be the clumsiest person I have ever met, and we just met. That is what, the second fall today?” Alessia’s infectious laughter filled the air.

The flush of her cheeks you assumed was from her second wipeout mixed with the sun beating down on her during training. Nonetheless, you found her little blush cute and as cliché as it sounded, small butterflies filled your stomach. Quickly you let those thoughts flee your mind, you were here at Arsenal to focus on football. 

“Oh whatever.” She giggled, gently brushed your shoulder, pushing you forward on the pitch. Her touch was electric, sending little chills down your back. 

Despite your initial nerves, training was well underway, and you felt confident. 

“Nice pass!” Alessia exclaimed, a wide smile lighting up her face as she received the ball. She had a smile that you felt could light up even the gloomiest of days.

“Why thank you Miss Russo,” you replied, returning Alessia’s smile with one of your own. 

As the two of you trained together, you couldn’t help but draw near the girl and be amazed at the way she moved on the pitch. Her movements were graceful on the ball but as soon as she wasn’t doing something football related, she immediately acted as if she had two left feet. She was captivating in a way you couldn’t explain. 

----------

It was a few weeks later and you had fully set into your place at Arsenal, making solid connections with a majority of the girls and finding success on the pitch. One specific connection with a certain blonde striker who felt like a beautiful ray of sunshine who made you question several things. Alessia and you had solidified each other as designated partners for training. The two of you had formed a close bond, she was calming to talk to, and her puppy-like personality made her warm to be around. 

“Team movie night at my house tonight, attendance is mandatory.” Leah yelled throughout the changing room after training. She used her fake stern voice that she typically used during pre-match huddles to let everyone know she was serious about the event. 

Turning to look at Less, “Are you going to go?” Her cubby was to the left of yours which meant every day you would return home with her vanilla scent cemented in your nose. 

Looking up from mindlessly scrolling on her phone, she met your eyes, “I’ll be there if you will.” Sending you a cheeky wink, returning the smile you had sent her. 

Overhearing your conversation Leah yelled “You both better be there. No excuses.” 

Mimicking her attitude and batting your eyes to Alessia which only caused the two of you to break out into laughter. It was a typical scene your teammates had come to realize. The two of you in your own little world, most of the time giggling at some sort of joke one of you had made. You and Alessia had become close very quickly and there were some lingering thoughts of a possible relationship with the striker, but each time you forced the thoughts out of your mind. 

Your sister had thankfully drove you over to the England’s skippers’ home, you had stopped on the way at the store and grabbed a couple bags of chocolates to share with the team. Secretly, the chocolates you had picked out where a favorite of Alessia’s that she had mentioned one day during training. 

Inside Leah’s home, a few team members had arrived before you and were grilling Alessia for not making a move on you yet. They watched the way the two of you interacted, and the way Alessia suddenly became a bundle of nerves around you. 

“Come on Less, you’re in love with her. I’ve never seen you so nervous to just be around someone, and I’ve known you for years!” Lotte told Alessia, Leah, and Lia who were sat around the kitchen island. 

“She just got out of a relationship and who knows even if she feels the same way?” Alessia had been secretly falling for you, but she had trouble figuring out if you had felt the same way. You confided in the girl about your last relationship and your solemn swear to focus on your professional career. 

A knock at the door brought them out of the conversation as Leah opened the door and allowed you in. 

Leah’s living room was transformed into a cozy area with blankets and pillows spread out wide and popcorn at the ready. It was a challenge to fit almost twenty women into a room, but the greatest challenge was trying to figure out a movie that everyone could collectively agree on. 

You found yourself slotted next to Alessia on a plush cushion as you let the girls around you argue about what they wanted. Thankfully, Leah made an executive decision, declaring that since it was her house meant that she had final say, and turned on a rom-com. Every so often your shoulders would brush against the blondes in the dim light. Despite every intent you made to remain guarded and build a strong wall around your heart, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of comfort in Alessia’s presence. 

As the movie played on the screen, you learned against the blonde, her warm seeping into your skin with a small blanket over the two of you. A feeling of contentment washing over you as you watched the movie together. Even in the low light, you could see Alessia’s crimson red cheeks.

When the movie came to an end far too soon for your liking, Alessia and you had yet to move until your phone began pinging. Your sister had been called into work and was unable to pick you up. You first thought about taking an Uber home, not wanting to inconvenience anyone, but you decided to ask first. 

“Hey, can anyone take me home?” you asked.

 “I can, only if you want though. I’m sure anyone could,” she mumbled out, her voice was soft and gentle.

“I would love for you to be my chauffeur Less.” Quickly accepting the offer with a shy smile and a small flutter of excitement in your chest at the prospect of spending more time with her.

The streets of London were quiet as Alessia drove you home. You found yourself stationed in her passenger seat opening up to her in ways you hadn’t with anyone else. Sharing stories and dreams as if you had known each other for years. You both shared your hope and dreams, your fears and insecurities, and once again you couldn’t help but feel a sense of a deeper connection growing between the two of you. Your conversations flowed effortlessly, each word building a bridge between you two, it was something you usually found difficult, but with Less it was always easy.

Before you knew it, you had arrived home. Ushering the girl a handful of thank you’s and sealing it with a side hug. But before you could say goodbye and exit the car, Alessia grabbed your wrist. 

“Hey, would you like me to drive you to training tomorrow morning? We can stop at the coffee shop I told you about? It is cool if not, no worries.” Alessia said softly, her voice was filled with nerves.

Your heart soared at the invitation and eagerly accepted the invitation, “That sounds lovely, see you tomorrow Less.” You were secretly counting down the hours until you could see Alessia again.

The next morning, Alessia arrived right on time and drove the two of you to the coffee shop. In the car, Alessia even let you play your music, something you knew was not allowed to many of your other teammates because everyone knew Alessia’s car was like her baby. Alessia’s eyes sparkled in the soft morning light as she drove.

Alessia ordered her drink and yours and you tried to hand the blonde your card to pay but she insisted she would pay. 

“Less please let me pay, as a thank you for driving me yesterday and today,” shoving the card more in the striker’s face. She simply resisted, handing the barista her card as a loud huff left your mouth.

“You can pay for the next one.” She told you, sending you a wink.

“Who says I want to get coffee again?” Pretending to be upset, crossing your arms and turning towards the window.

She quickly became nervous, mumbling out words you couldn’t even begin to depict. 

“Less. Less, I am just joking with you.” A fond smile tugged at your lips.

“Right. Yeah I knew that.” Her fake confidence only made you laugh. She handed you your drink as your fingers brush, its quick but it lights a familiar fire in your stomach. A feeling you were beginning to have around her often. As you arrived at the training ground, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were exactly where you needed to be- with Alessia by your side, making you laugh and smile like no one else could. 

----------

The first game you would be playing in the Arsenal red was against Watford for the FA’s Women’s Cup. You had a clear prematch routine, one that always ended with braiding your hair. In the changing rooms, you were nearly finished with the last section of your hair when Alessia walked in. 

“I like your hair.” She complimented. She carefully watched in a slight trance.

“I can braid yours like mine if you want?” You asked, a playful smile tugging at your lips. Alessia looked up at you, eyes widening at the offer.

She nodded eagerly, stationing herself bent in front of you, allowing you to gently gather her hair in your hands. You watched in the mirror as Alessia closed her eyes, relishing the feeling of your fingers weaving through her hair. You finished the braid relatively quickly as Alessia had shorter hair, securing the braid with a small hair tie. 

“All done.” Admiring your handywork in the mirror. “You look beautiful Less.” You couldn’t help but admire her beauty as well. The way the sunlight caught her hair on the pitch, the curve of her jawline, or the softness of her lips. 

Alessia looked at herself in the mirror, a smile spreading across her face, “Looks amazing, thank you.”

She sealed the deal with a quick peck to your cheek, and a hug that lasted a little longer than it should, leaving you a puddle as she left. You couldn’t help but feel the warmth that lingered in your chest, a feeling that perhaps there was something more than a friendship blossoming between you and the striker.

----------

Maybe you should have followed in Jona’s footstep in wearing a large puffer because several days later you found yourself sick. What made it worse is that you were supposed to be going out with the team to celebrate the next international window break. You had been looking forward to celebrating the evening but now found yourself bedridden and alone.

You quickly sent the group chat a message saying you would not be in attendance and found yourself cuddled up on the couch with piles high of blankets and reruns of Love Island on your television. 

A knock on your door surprised you. You blinked in confusion, wondering who could possibly be visiting you. You dragged yourself from the couch and made your way to the door.

Alessia stood on your doorstep with a worried look on her face. In her hands, she held a steaming bowl of soup covered with a lid.

“Less what are you doing here? You should be out celebrating?” Your voice thick with surprise.

“I heard you were sick,” Alessia said softly, her voice filled with concern. “My mom used to always made me this soup when I would get sick. She says it’s her secret recipe for curing colds.”

There was a rush of gratitude that washed over you at Alessia’s thoughtfulness. Stepping aside to let Alessia in.

“Thank you Less,” your voice soft with emotion. “That is really sweet of you.”

“It is no problem really,” she said. “I just want to make sure you’re okay.

She followed you to the couch, settling back into the warm cushion as Alessia took a seat beside you. She placed the bowl of soup in your hands and encouraged you to try some. It was delicious and you could see how it always did the trick. For a while, you and Alessia sat in comfortable silence, the only sounds in the room were the television and the metal hitting the bowl each time you brought the spoon to the bowl.

“This was really sweet of you Less.” It was like a tidal wave of emotions, the surging thoughts you had desperately tried to keep at bay so long coming to the forefront. Sat on the couch as your hands with the striker interlocked, both of you kept silent at the action. 

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for what you were about to say. “Less,” your voice barely above a whisper. “There is something I should tell you.”

Alessia turned towards you, “What is it? Is the soup not good? It’s okay I can make a different one if you would like?” she asked, her voice laced with concern. She even made movements to leave the couch, but you grabbed her hand and ushered her back down.

“I can’t pretend anymore. You need to know that I have grown to care for you, deeply.” You explained to the blonde. “I know it is kind of crazy given we’ve only known each other for a short time but I can’t shake this feeling.”

Alessia’s eyes widen with shock, her mouth opening and closing soundlessly as she struggled to find the right words.

You felt a surge of panic rising in your chest. Had you made a mistake? Had you ruined the friendship with the reckless confession?

Alessia reached out and took both of your hands in hers, her touch was warm and reassuring. “It’s you. It’s always been you. Since the day you stepped on the pitch on your first day.”

There was a surge of joy welling in your heart, a feeling of pure joy. Without another word, you leaned in and pressed your lips to hers. Your heart soaring as you felt Alessia’s strong arms wrap around you.

#woso x reader #woso community #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso one shot #woso blurbs #woso #alessia russo x y/n #alessia russo imagine #alessia russo x reader #alessia russo #woso soccer #womens soccer

[targaryenluvs]

— HUNGER GAMES

a/n: look at my cute lil smiley fin 😭 god i love hunger games so much you don’t understand it’s my comfort movies and finn is my comfort character ❤️

RED MARKED STORIES HAVE DARK THEMES. READ WARNINGS PLEASE.

FINNICK ODAIR

— want and desire (req) dark themes

— summary: you’d thought you’d escaped the capitol, and to some extent, him, the ever so sweet and charming finnick odair. but apparently your fate had been signed, as it seemed you couldn’t get away from him, no matter how hard you tried.

— spring cleaning (blurb req)

— summary: finnick finally decides to clean out the garage with your help after you asking him forever.

— victors spoils

— summary: a victor should be celebrated! a victor should get what ever they wish, even if it’s a sweet capitol girl who misplaced her kindness in someone who was in desperate need of reprieve and distraction.

— lonely waters

— summary: even if you resided in the fishing district you only ever got close to the water for swimming late at night. it was your favourite time of the day, but it leaves you open and vulnerable to predators and people, the water won’t save you.. silly girl, don’t you remember? finnick odairs a champion swimmer.

— my people ft annie cresta

— summary: you’d been hired to help keep annie’s home clean and to keep her company. what you didn’t expect was to fall in love with her. and to find out that she was with finnick, and annie doesn’t want to let either of you go. but you’ve found your people, and you couldn’t be happier.

— miss officer

— summary: you’re tasked with training finnick odair for war and to fight in the captiol. only problem? he’s completely enamoured with you.

— breakups and makeups

— summary: you and finnick used to date, but it took a nasty turn when you heard rumours of his dalliances. but now the two of you reunite apart of the same alliance. will you make up or break up? again?

— damage control & lifeline (anon blurb)

— summary: finnick and his mentor getting into a fake relationship for damage control after peeta and katniss’ stunt at the 74th games + finnick saving his stylist from execution by proposing marriage.

— unrequited (anon blurb, implied smut)

— summary: you’d divulged one to many secrets to your favourite victor and he wasn’t afraid of using them against you. karmas a bitch!

— oh baby! (smut)

— summary: finnick found you to be as cute as ever. but you aren’t exactly the smartest in the room according to him. luckily, finnicks more than happy to help his sweet baby succeed, and he will not let you forget him.

— capitol girl (req blurb)

— summary: finnick loves his favourite victor.

— love you best part two (req, smut)

— summary: your boyfriend doesn’t exactly like you around other men without him.

CORIOLANUS SNOW

— trapped

— summary: after the 10th hunger games, coriolanus set his sights on a girl from his younger years to be his wife. disgusted by his actions and scared by the rumours your family agreed. as you realise he wasn’t the same boy from before, snow finds himself intrigued, especially when you seem to be visiting a friends house too often.

— delicate*

— summary: coriolanus had to marry. lucky for him one of the most eligible girls of the capitol was up for grabs. only problem? he hoped his cold exterior would keep her away but nothing broke her sweet spirit. what happens when he finds himself being drawn to her light? and how far was he willing to go to keep it untainted and all to himself?

— ravage delicate pt 2

— summary: he’d won the election, much to your elation. now you’d have to navigate the fame, fortune and status as the first lady of panem. but coriolanus just wanted you all to himself, and he’d do anything to scare you into his arms.

— safe and sound ft lucy gray baird

— summary: somehow you’d ended up in the games, snow and lucy would do anything to keep you safe.

— worth it

summary: coriolanus made the mistake of protecting lucy gray during the bombing, rather than you.

— runaway

summary: you’d always considered coriolanus to be a friend of yours. family even. but after sejanus’s death you find him to be off. he’s keeping something from your family and you’ve run out of time to get as far away as you can.

— our little dove ft lucy gray baird

— summary: you reunite with your dear songbird after the games, but it seems the capitol has followed her home, and taken an interest in the two of you.

— our little dove alt ending

— summary: you reunite with your dear songbird after the games, but it seems the capitol has followed her home, and taken an interest in the two of you.

— late to the party

— summary: after corio was sent away to district 12, your managed to come to terms with the fact that he did not love you by any means. but what happens when he realises he liked that affection? and what happens when you’re already in a relationship?

— brown jewel (req)

— summary: he was a lifeline and you’d grabbed on in hopes to avoid the reaping, but you were coriolanus’ obsession and he was not going to let you go.

— temper tantrum (req)

— summary: you were the daughter of one of the richest couples of panem. everything you’ve ever wanted, handed to you. coriolanus had a short temper and you were stubborn. who knows what could happen?

— mr president (req)

— summary: mr president seems to be especially enamoured with his favourite maid, you.

— all grown up (smut)

— summary: you were always tigris's annoying rich friend to coriolanus, but once he returns from 12 you seem to be irresistible, not only to him.

— charity (req)

— summary: president snow was praised for his love and devotion to his wife, a cripple. if only they knew how you’d ended up that way.

— love you best (req, smut, read as coryo or finnick)

— summary: your boyfriend doesn’t like you around other men without him.

PEETA MELLARK

— sweet like sugar (blurb req)

— summary: peeta teaches you how to bake since you’re nowhere near as good as you thought, not that you’d admit it.

—paranoia (dark req)

— summary: peeta tries to reintegrate into society in district 13 and get over his fear of you being taken from him. no one noticed just how badly the capitol messed him up until he lashes out.

SEJANUS PLINTH

— coming soon!

LUCY GRAY BAIRD

— safe and sound ft coriolanus snow

— summary: somehow you’d ended up in the games, snow and lucy would do anything to keep you safe.

— destined

— summary: you and lucy enjoy time together at the lake.

—our little dove ft coriolanus snow

— summary: you reunite with your dear songbird after the games, but it seems the capitol has followed her home, and taken an interest in the two of you.

— our little dove alt ending

— summary: you reunite with your dear songbird after the games, but it seems the capitol has followed her home, and taken an interest in the two of you.

KATNISS EVERDEEN

— coming soon!

JOHANNA MASON

— underestimate (blurb req)

— summary: johanna learns not to underestimate you.

ANNIE CRESTA

— my people ft finnick odair

— summary: you’d been hired to help keep annie’s home clean and to keep her company. what you didn’t expect was to fall in love with her. and to find out that she was with finnick, and annie doesn’t want to let either of you go. but you’ve found your people, and you couldn’t be happier.

TRIBUTE!READER

— coming soon!

(in general, no ship just the reader in the arena, with katniss n peeta etc)

#hunger games x reader #finnick x reader #finnick odair x reader #finnick odair x you #peeta mellark #peeta mellark x reader #peeta mellark x you #coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus x reader #katniss everdeen #sejanus x reader #sejanus plinth x reader #dark!lucy gray baird x reader #dark!coriolanus snow x fem!reader #coriolanus snow x fem!reader #katniss everdeen x reader #johanna mason x reader #dark!finnick odair x reader

[throwaway-yandere]

𝗖𝗹𝗮𝘀𝘀𝗶𝗰𝗮𝗹 𝗖𝗼𝗻𝗱𝗶𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴 [Yandere!Dottore/Reader]

a/n: this fic is 100% dedicated to @leftdestiny-posts and they would know just how much they had inspired me in this fic once they finished reading it HAHAHAHAH. P.S.: the classical songs mentioned are actual songs. Yes, the title is half a joke. Here's the spotify playlist if you're curious.

Unreliable Synopsis: You cannot remember your past, but your doctor has been with you every step of the way— and he's more than willing to spend some time with you outside the hospital. Still... did you always have pure white hair?

CW: yandere themes, light body horror, manipulation, its dottore, c'mon LOL.

Concert II "Tristezza Di Fine Anno", performed by the Morespoke Philharmonic with their conductor, Lady Columbina, began nearly an hour ago. And you had the fortune of hearing their songs for yourself.

The well-dressed crowd filled the seats, behaving in what was appropriate for their high station. It was fully booked. The music overwhelmingly masked anyone's breaths, if they had one to start with. Her program can be felt deep in the audience's bones. Rattling them in each sforzando before it lulls down through the sound of her handpicked musicians— with Lady Columbina as the lonesome soloist when the moment calls for it.

"This piece, Symphony No. 5 in C-Sharp Minor, is not Columbina's own making, she had failed to mention that," your company hummed. "This was by another composer who hid behind the name Safed. They were a self-fulling prophecy. Do you wish to know what they said about this piece?"

You said nothing as Zandik— Lord Dottore— stroked your unnaturally "white" hair.

"They said that nobody understood the piece and that they wish they could conduct the first performance five centuries after their death."

Zandik smiled.

"What say you? Do you think those words are true?"

Your company was a tall and thin man with artificially pale-ish skin and wavy blue hair. His eyes were reportedly bloodshot crimson, although you had not received proof of that in this lifetime. But, you were drawn to his deep ocean-like colors, and that was enough to keep you mildly complacent to his strange remarks.

Zandik is surprisingly a considerate man, but he must've brought you with him for a reason. He told you himself that the reason he brought you out of your prison-like hospital room was a mere experiment on his behalf. Paradigm-shifting consequences of his strange social experiments with you are likely to occur, and he cares not for its ethical debates. He won't ask for rhetorics; these to him are tangible outcomes and no questions will be entertained.

All except his.

"I think… "

The composition had a serene, slightly asymmetrical feel to it. You were certain this was Lady Columbina's creative liberties at play. Something about it did not capture its true authenticities. The show purported to narrate three stories: the first concerned a judge who had to find a loved one guilty; the second concerned a prince who drove their beloved into despair; and the final was a tale of a knight who disregarded his obligation to defend a loved one.

But it felt incomplete. As if there was a missing piece— a secret fourth act hiding between the notes and stage.

"A person can't completely mourn for something they would never experience," you told him. "But even so, if I were Safed, I'd feel like my effort would've been a waste."

His eyes remained trained on your hair as you spoke. Zandik seems to dislike it. Unlike his cells mixed with engineered nanomaterials, yours are uniquely… "natural". His hair has a color intensity, whereas yours was the presence of every color— as physics explained it.

"Something they would never experience…" Zandik repeated, tasting the words on his tongue— a smirk etched on his face as though it tasted like bitter irony.

You continued.

"I have a hunch that Safed put everything they worked hard on all their pieces because Lady Columbina wouldn't have performed it otherwise. Since all the songs on the concert's program are marketed as underappreciated compositions, I would… um… infer that they also questioned their works and ultimately themselves if it all had worth in the end. Hopeless for the lack of attention, they probably thought there's more hope if they lived in another generation."

You wanted to say, though you're not sure where this negativity came from, that they probably despised how their well-crafted works were ignored and their sloppy yet significantly more popular compositions angered them.

But you're not Safed. You don't want to put words in their mouth.

".... Hmm, an acceptable hypothesis— a decent one, even," whatever monotonous response Zandik wished to convey, his voice betrayed his grand satisfaction. "Yet I won't give you any confirmation."

"I know."

Zandik laughed.

"The next piece is Norn's Adagio for Strings Op. 11, before the closing Symphony No. 6, better known as Pathétique Symphony, in B Minor Op. 74."

You tilted your head innocently. "Pathetic?"

"Another piece by Safed. It's a Fontaine-translated title. It's originally named pateticheskaya, which meant passionate or emotional, not at all pitiable."

He crossed his arms, insulted as though he was the one who came up with the original title.

"Roughly half a millennium past, the masses attributed Safed's demise to the strains of their final composition, the so-called Pathétique, a mere nine days preceding their exit from this mortal coil. The prevailing narrative spouts a tale of a tragic surrender to the clutches of undiagnosed clinical depression. I find such simplicity in analysis rather pedestrian, wouldn't you agree?"

You took a while to process his inquiry before hesitantly nodding.

"I… I think so."

Zandik smiled.

It's hard to tell if it's genuine, especially when such a protruding mask hides his eyes. Should its existence vanish, you aren't certain you'd see a soul within his pupils either.

"Safed hated this piece, believing it should be cast aside and forgotten. They were living in the woodlands when they wrote it— and when they decided to live with their benefactor, it was suddenly difficult to tear them away from their work."

You nodded to cue that you were still listening.

"They have an incredibly deep connection with their works. One might say they see in tunes rather than color."

You nodded again.

"Your inclination towards a perpetual affirmation of propositions, presumably to veil any potential lacunae in your cognitive purview, does not escape me. It is, if I may be so bold, your agreement that conceals your specter of unfamiliarity, right?"

You rarely understand a word he says when he is in this passionate state. You just nod as if you knew.

"Adorable," Zandik chuckled.

His voice was chillingly low yet… comforting. 

"Your sincerity constitutes an enchanting facet of your comportment."

He had to be teasing you.

"Although…" Zandik grabbed a few locks of your hair as though it was slimy and unpleasant— quickly retracting them with a disapproving tilt. "You could stand to utilize more (h/c) hair dyes. How is it conceivable that it has returned to white yet again?"

You opened your mouth but Zandik raised a finger.

"No. I am the scholar here. Do not answer."

You giggled. "Understood, Doctor."

He grinned, inadvertently showing off his pointed canines.

"What a good test subject you are, my dear (Y/n)."

Whether good was a subjective or objective assessment or not was up to interpretation.

The mid-concert intermission began, allowing Lady Columbina's pressured musicians a 20-minute sigh of relief. Zandik ushered you to the back where the Lady Harbinger reposed on a white sofa, her cheek brushing a visibly soft and cloud-like pillow. The bright backstage lighting made her seem ethereal.

She looked like heaven, but Zandik would argue that "(Y/n)" is the true epitome of the word.

"Greetings. As expected, you'd initiate conversation at the earliest convenience." She cooed. "You look younger today, Doctor."

"You know very well that I do not take that as a compliment, Columbina." Zandik scoffed. "How many times will we rehearse this canned script until it is a learned lesson?"

"Perhaps it shall end on the day you refrain yourself from recreating… perspectives."

"Since my encounter with the Dendro Archon, I have not revisited that notion."

Columbina's gentle smile dropped coldly. "You know that your segments are not what I am referring to."

You looked back and forth between the two. Each of them was a distinctively unique person and it's a challenge to take your eyes away from the other.

Hence, when you felt Lady Columbina's eyes on you, you shook and straightened yourself before bowing stiffly.

"G-Greetings, Lady Columbina!!!"

Her gentle smile resurfaced.

"Greetings to you as well, dear Safed."

You blinked.

Dottore clicked his tongue, and Columbina laughed softly.

"Apologies, I meant to say (Y/n)— that is the name you go by in this era of humanity, right?"

You'd rightfully claim that between the three of you, you were the most human. Zandik has his clones, Columbina's origins are of strict secrecy, and you are a mere amnesiac patient. But the way she addressed you was sounding awful like stripping you away with that sense of humane identity.

"Yes? I guess?"

Columbina delightedly buzzed in your reply. "(Y/n)— truly a lovely name. That must mean that you're very healthy! It warms my heart to hear that name again. The other ones had terribly dull names, but if the Doctor had given you this title, then it must mean his research is finally drawing to a close."

Her remarks made little sense. You know little about yourself and trust only the Doctor's judgment. Should you trust her words, then it must mean (Y/n) isn't your real name…

But… that doesn't seem right either. 

"Not quite, the name deserves no celebration," Dottore replied happily. "I merely ran out of translations. Bianco, Wit, Bái— what else is there? Ancient Natlan?"

"Scientists truly make for terrible poets— Why not try Inazuman?" Columbina offered.

Those words must have had a heavy weight to them because Zandik pondered for much longer than expected.

"Hmm. I'll keep that in mind," Zandik muttered. "Although it is preferable it does not have to reach that point."

"May I ask why did you bring them here?" Columbina asked.

"It's a bit of an unconventional experiment, but I've been exploring how to elicit positive associations with certain stimuli. Exposing them to music as I accompany them should cause them to associate the emotional response it elicits with being around me." Dottore hummed. "It would be asinine to put them in a chaotic yet controlled environment such as a theme park. While a racing heart may be effective, I shouldn't risk a (Y/n)'s well-being by subjecting them to roller coasters."

"Are you sure you're not the scared one?" You asked cheekily. Zandik rolled his eyes.

She shook her head.

"What a roundabout way of saying you're taking them out on a concert date…"

Columbina looked at you once more.

"Oh, but (Y/n), you appear unwell, my dear…" she pointed at stage left. "Why don't you fix yourself up in the nearest restroom?"

Dottore raised an eyebrow, which made you want to decline Columbina.

"I'm r-really okay, Lady Colum—"

"I insist."

Columbina smiled wider. Her laced mask cast a gloomy shade on her visage.

You had no other choice.

"O… Okay."

The halls that led to the restroom were mostly empty. Perhaps it was due to Lady Columbina's performance that made them patiently await the next song.

But there was one young man you encountered along the way. He had blonde half-way braided hair and purple-ish eyes. You paid him no mind as he circled a small rectangular paper, likely the concert's ticket, between his fingers. However, within a second, that paper vanished.

You stopped in your tracks and looked at him curiously, wondering if your eyes played tricks. He laughed, noting your attention.

"Ah! Sorry," he cheerfully gestured a small wave. "Didn't mean to practice in public."

The blonde man approached you with a smile.

"You're #9805, right?"

Immediately, you both got on the wrong foot.

Your nose scrunched, "I prefer (Y/n)."

The man flinched. "Oh, yikes! I'm not making the best first impression— nice to meet you (Y/n)! I have something for you."

You thought he was handing you his concert ticket for a moment but when you took a good look, it was a grayscale brochure.

And a white tulip…

"Um…"

"Needless to say, I'm something of a—"

"Trickster?"

"Magician, but an astute guess nonetheless!" He laughed sheepishly. "I was waiting for you, I thought you wouldn't go to the restroom."

So, did Lady Columbina plan this?

You caressed the binding and skimmed through the pages. "What's this for?"

"Father said you might be interested in its contents," the young man said. "That's all."

You blinked.

"... Are you saying you missed out most of the concert just to hand me this?"

He laughed awkwardly again. "My dear sister says I have a habit of missing a hint of romanticism when it counts, so I guess today's just one of those moments."

"Did you not like the music?" You scoffed, temper rising.

"Did you hate the composition? Did you not understand the e-emotion behind the chords? Don't you understand just how d-disrespectful that was?!"

"Woah, woah, I didn't say any of that." His eyes widened.

He didn't expect your voice to crack.

"I'm so sorry if you're offended— are you one of the original composers?"

…

You took a deep breath.

… Why were you mad?

… Why did it feel like those songs mean more to you than meets the eye?

"Sorry, I just…" You shook your head. "I guess I'm not feeling well. Oh, no, I'm so SO sorry…"

An unknown part of you thrived to hear him praise the music. That same part pitied the composer who worked day and night to perfect their piece. It's an ugly voice, but it was sincere.

… What was wrong with you? Why did you suddenly lash out? What was going on?

"Oh, well there's no need to be sorry then." The blonde man took his hat off and bowed.

"Farewell, Mx. (Y/n)!" He grinned. "The greatest magician in all Teyvat will take his leave. Thank you for your time!"

With the sway of his dark cape, he disappeared.

You entered the restroom to wash your face. It didn't do much to soothe your nerves. The lingering dread for your strange emotional mood swing remained.

To distract yourself, you read through the article.

The Enigmatic Legacy of Composer Safed

In the annals of musical history, few figures emerge as enigmatic and hauntingly captivating as the orchestral composer, Safed. Born five centuries ago amidst the ancient woodlands of Sumeru, this ethereal musician seemingly materialized from Vanarama with no familial relations.

Huh… So it's about the one who wrote the previous compositions earlier.

No wonder that blonde man asked if you were one of the composers. He was being a smartass.

A Fiery Finale: The Pathétique Symphony

Legend has it that in their final act of emotional expression, Safed penned the "Pathétique Symphony," a composition so emotionally charged that, overwhelmed with disdain for their creation, they purportedly set ablaze their woodland home. Seeking solace and escape, Safed accepted the benevolent offer of a city-dwelling benefactor.

…

…

Safed… burned down their house?

No…

No, that's not how you remembered that.

No.

No. No. No. No. No.

That's not what happened. "Safed" didn't burn their house down.

Suddenly, you stilled. Your thoughts ran wild, but your inner rationale tried to force them to a halt. This peak in anxiety did not make sense.

… Why would an amnesiac like you know what happened?

A Swansong: Il Dottore's Beneficence

Their benefactor, now celebrated as our Lord Harbinger, Il Dottore, welcomed Safed into the city's heart. It was here that the truth unfolded: Safed had been grappling with hearing loss for years, an affliction that fueled their artistic brilliance yet cloaked them in a muffled world. They were unaware of their disability, yet thrived in their field.

…

…

Wait…

Before you began to read the final paragraph in Safed's brochure, you hurriedly went back to Dottore and the composer's vintage photographed portraits.

After seeing their face, you dropped the brochure in the restroom's sink.

You saw their face.

You saw YOUR face and Zandik's.

But not quite. That was you, but at the same time, it wasn't. Zandik looked stiff in those photos with "you", likely a product of the time since Kamera photography was used only in rare formalities that required a bit of dress up. But the "you" you saw was sickly way beyond the formal costumes. They had (e/c) eyes and (h/c) hair, but yours were all white. 

White…

Safed… That's the Sumeru translation for white, isn't it?

Bianco, Wit, Bái— they're all translations for "white", aren't they? And if Dottore and Columbina's earlier conversations were to go by, the one after you would be named Shiro.

…

The one… after you?

"Tut tut."

You trembled at the familiar sound.

You slowly turned your head around and there he was, leaning against the restroom door.

"You were in the restroom for too long. It appears my suspicions were not unfounded."

Without waiting for a response, he approached with large strides. His gloved hands seized your stressed shoulders. The grip tightened harshly as he forced you to meet his intense gaze. Blood trailed from the corner of your mouth, and your anxiety heightened. He angrily bared his sharp teeth as he watched it stain his gloves.

And yet Zandik looks…

Sad.

And distressed.

He pressed his earpiece.

"Test Subject #9805 exhibits troubling symptoms. Hematemesis suggests a severe physiological response. Persistent manifestations of albinism in ocular and follicular pigmentation indicate underlying deformities. Immediate isolation is warranted for the researcher and subject's well-being."

His hand was cold. Skin imbued with silver nanomaterials after several operations, reminiscent of the age-old philosophical question: "Is it still the same ship if you gradually replace all of its parts?" 

Then Zandik did something unexpected.

He dropped his hold and you prepared yourself by shutting your eyes as he swung his arm.

To hug you.

"I'm sorry, I have failed you again, (Y/n)," Zandik muttered. "I should not have raised my expectations."

"W… What? Why are you putting me in isolation?" You asked, rattled. "What have I done?! I just— I didn't do anything wrong! What did I—"

He shifted, dragging your arm to hug him back as though you were a little girl's doll. Zandik rested his head on your shoulder, shaking slightly.

"In your innocence, no fault lies. I thought I had accomplished what I had set out to do, and met unfulfilled expectations" Zandik gritted his teeth, voice somber. "Despite centuries of refinement, it appears that I still have room for improvement in perfecting the process… I was right. This deserves no celebration."

The doctor laughed sadly.

"When will I ever be proven wrong?" He asked himself as he wiped the blood off the corner of your lips.

He pulled away, pecking your forehead.

"I'm sorry."

Those were not the words you expected from his mouth, and yet you heard it more than once. I'm sorry. It does not fit his character, nor does the tender yet cold hug he had given prior.

You're scared. You're terrified. You know what was bound to come. You know what awaits you. White walls. Silence. Separation.

Solitary.

Far from a choice. Far from negotiable.

There's no amnesty.

And yet, the words flowed from you naturally.

"... I forgive you."

You have no idea why you said what you said. There's no certainty that you believed your own words. Zandik's lip twitched downward.

"You should not," Zandik croaked. "Why? Why must you always forgive and accept my selfishness? Do you derive satisfaction in seeing me in this state?!"

You opened your mouth to answer but were stopped abruptly as he grabbed your hair.

Zandik had always favored you compared to other patients. You know this very well. He's an evil man and the list of actions he had done that had harmed you in the name of science is at least two pages long upon your awakening. Yet, you were sure he liked you enough for he told you of his new exciting experiments. He scolded you when you left his research institute for fresh air. And he would hold your hand whenever you dreaded those thick injections.

You just didn't know he had it in him to fold from his intimidating facade just to kiss you like a desperate man. 

Breathless under his control, he softly pressed his lips against yours. His lips were chapped and cold, and he took you in gently as though he'd break you. Zandik, as strange as it was, still seemed to prioritize your comfort over his needs. Normally, this tension would've made him so short-tempered. But this will be your last interaction. The doctor tasted your blood in his mouth, and he was nauseous at the thought of hurting you more. But he stopped. Even though he wishes to force all his pent-up desires onto you. Even though he wanted to love you thoroughly that you'd forget your name again.

Zandik whimpered quietly as he pulled away— sounding like a dog that would not sleep that night. What was left in between was a thin disappearing line of saliva and blood that quickly broke off.

The doctor should be happy he finally got to have a proper date with you after 9805 failed attempts. 

But he's not content.

He was about to lean in for the second time but stopped himself. Selfish. To think he nearly saw you two finally walking down the aisle. Why was he always so selfish when it came to you? But those rhetorics mattered not in your head.

You were silenced. You were held.

You were loved.

"No." Zandik breathed in, laughing humorlessly. "No— I am the scholar here. Don't answer."

And you will be disposed of.

"Take them away." He spoke to his men calmly. They had entered long enough to witness what he had done. The men did not hesitate to grab you, thinking Dottore thought you no more than a mere toy.

But calm was deceptive. It does not convey the distress that chokes him.

Maybe…

Maybe in the 9806's trial… he'll have you as he always wanted.

The Fatuus that escorted you in was gentle. A silent guide. The expression on her face was clear that she wanted to extend her apologies as well but mustn't.

You already have a white tulip in hand.

Arlecchino already sended her regards in advance.

When she opened the door by tapping a card against the lock, she bowed her head. You let yourself enter without a fight. The room was pure white with the rest of the furniture matching the drapes. But Dottore didn't just provide the necessities. There were books, sketch pads, and other recreational materials.

As you were about to approach the center, something was off on both sides.

You looked to your left.

Two clear mirrors divided your room from the others. There's a sign on the left wall. Code #4135.

You stood, shocked, grieving at the sight of your predecessor. They were a mirror of you but with a different name— and an even worse state.

One had made a slight sound coming off their skin— rotting slightly. There's a tube connected to their mouth and you could see yourself— you could see them dripping. They had your face. Their hair and eyes were white. The nose was gone, leaving a gaping hole. Their neck was cricked back at an unnatural angle. You don't know if they're still breathing. They're still bleeding. They must've bitten off their tongue.

There's a lone white blanket that covers the rest of them.

You think they might be dead.

You think "you" might've died more than once.

THUD!

You jolted at the sound coming from the wall behind you. Upon seeing their body, you froze.

Code #032.

They were but a head. You wish you could only focus on that aspect, but you looked lower and your hair raised. They cannot feel the same, for they were almost only a spine left. The rest of them were their skeletal frame, guided by thin lines one can barely call flesh.

Their head banged against the mirror. The thought that the sound was what made you flinch earlier made you unwell.

They seem to be telling you something. Their breath fogged up the glass and their thinned white hair splayed across your view. Their mouth said something urgently you couldn't comprehend because their tongue was paper-like in size.

#032 was shaking. Their pain grew vivid in every movement that the room was starting to spin. You sensed their turmoil.

They looked like death.

You all looked like death itself, both the pretty and ugly ends of it.

"Don't." You whispered, begging as you knelt to their level. "You don't have to speak."

You laughed deprecatingly.

"We're not the scholar here. He is."

In every syllable, you saw the outline of their esophagus strain. The nerves were blueish purple. The little skin they have left on their cheeks is sunken. Their lips were gnawed, likely as a response to the pain they'd gone through previously. Fists of bone tapped against the glass, and you quivered, imagining their pain.

You were not afraid of them. You only mourned their anguish. In fact, you feel at ease to be in the presence of yourself from the past.

It reminded you of what "Safed" had allegedly spoken years ago.

Nobody understood the pieces you made and you wished you could conduct the first performance five centuries after your first death.

And now, here you are.

Seeing two "people" who do understand you.

And they share your face.

"Pathetically", the only one that can understand you is yourself.

You're all flies trapped in a web that the predator refuses to wrap and consume out of pity. Compared to the others, you looked fine.

But your lungs were blistering.

Despite their deathly ill and mutilated bodies, you were the one bound to die soon enough.

His experiments worked.

You love him.

You love Zandik.

And how tragic it was that the person who learned how to love him was doomed to perish.

In your last minutes, you recalled something vital:

As an outsider, your body was not meant for this world, but after encountering the woodland creatures and Zandik, it became tremendously difficult to part ways with it.

You coughed up yet again with a gentle smile on your face. Maybe you're not dying…

Maybe you're just returning home, for every atom in your multiple bodies was once part of the galaxy.

You are (Y/n) (L/n).

And you were not from Teyvat.

Much like the rest of the descenders, you have a quirk about you that sets you apart from the norm. For the travelers the world reveres today, it was their distinct determination and questionable age that was remarkable. Yours slightly titters to an inhuman level.

You can "clone" yourself.

Zandik and the "original" you wouldn't phrase it in that manner, but it's the easiest way to describe your talents.

"So, it is cloning." Zandik paused. "Mind letting me in on the science behind the process?"

He was an ordinary student when you both met. Far from a doctor, but at least he was a registered scholar in the Akademiya. Zandik didn't have an eloquent tongue as he does in the present, yet his curiosity burned all the same.

Which is why, back then, you thought his questions were cute.

Not dangerous.

"It's not that I can make copies of myself without consequences," you humored with a grin. "I'm just making… fragments of myself. Segments, if you prefer to call it that. It's a common ability for the people back in my world. None of us do it excessively— especially since we're kind of an invasive species." 

Zandik raised an eyebrow, "is that a commendable trait?"

"My kind says so. Whether good is a subjective or objective assessment or not is up to interpretation." You answered noncommittedly. "I don't think that's right. Our soul splits apart until we're just… empty. We lose some memories in the process."

"But functioning?"

"In a sense, yeah, but we lose a part of ourselves like memories and well, hair color, I guess." You nodded. "Why are you so curious?"

"Since you have rejected my confession, I want to try my hand at seducing a copy of yours instead," Zandik said. You couldn't tell whether he was joking with his naturally piercing red eyes. "Until then, you are not allowed to asexually reproduce without my authorization. Understood?"

You laughed. Unaware of his arsonist crimes, you willingly indulged his words.

"I owe you my ears, so it's only right that I'll listen to your commands, Zandik."

"Good." Zandik grinned, shark-like.

"What a good test subject you are, (Y/n)."

Centuries later, that closing sentence will continue to remain true.

Since then, his life has changed. Multiplied, even. Upon studying your genetic makeup, he found ways to duplicate himself as well. Despite his feats in science, Zandik remained unhappy.

Deep down, all the Harbingers pity the Doctor who cannot save his most loved one. That includes both Columbina and Arlecchino.

No one protests even when harmful orders are given; everything appears fine until the symptoms are felt. Because the organism— the astral descender— has no nerves or voice, he continues to assume that the patient is not in pain.

The patient needs peace but because they are not to speak, they remain silent, and the need persists.

The patient wants to eat and breathe fresh air, but because such desires might hurt the feelings of the doctor who thinks he has done everything needed, the patient remains quiet, contemplating desires out of fear of reprimand.

The original (Y/n) (L/n) suffers in silence. In a white room only accessible by a man who continues to nurse his unrequited love: Zandik.

No one else can enter this room.

He won't allow it. Only he can be obsessed with you.

The thought of you haunts him like a smiling reflection upon window panes— like a gift of a Trojan horse with nothing but your echoing laughter and hospital monitor beeps inside. Your thin limbs were marching clock hands with rusted gears that miraculously function till the end of time.

What is immortality for if every day was a death loop?

It is such a lonely concept…

You ought to be thankful that he's willing to be your eternal company.

"I endeavored to elicit a reciprocation of my sentiments from the latest subject. Regrettably, their discovery of my antecedent experiments transpired prematurely. Nevertheless, as asserted several times, it remains but a temporal inevitability until an iteration of yourself succumbs to having an interest towards me." Dottore hummed.

He held your feet.

He held Test Subject #01's feet.

If you spoke up, he would've bragged about how he was right. How people do love your songs. But no one knows if you can't or won't answer him. This one-sided conversation is the punishment for his hubris.

He took out a sharp knife and cut off one of your toes. You no longer feel any pain as you bleed into his hands. What a kind man the doctor is, for he blocked all your pain receptors years ago. It's a good thing you regenerate quickly.

That's what he loved and hated about you.

You only gave and gave.

But you never ran out of soul. You never ran your heart fully dry— and that left you ill. Zandik could never let you go.

You're already a part of him.

Hence, he must not make clones of exaggerated memories. He wanted your perfect yet healthy replica.

Praise be the white corpuscles extracted from your veins which had brought him new life. You were the reason for his research. You were the breath that gave his segments life. You were his muse, much like he was yours.

"Fear not, (Y/n)," he reassured with a measured tone. "Upon my mastery of the arts, I intend to reinstate your autonomy and awareness. Perhaps then, you shall find the organic inclination to reciprocate affection toward me by the 9806's trial. Until then…"

In other words, give him more time and he'll reinvent love.

He leaned his forehead against yours.

"I'm so, so sorry."

And ultimately, he'll reinvent YOU.

"Can I have another piece of your scalp?"

"No."

"Do you not understand the weight of this research or must I expound on it further in another three-hour presentation?"

"Alternatively, you could start by saying that you're sorry," you raised an eyebrow. "I'm still not over the fact you randomly cut a piece of my ear when I was asleep, doctor. You know, I heard from the aranaras that white tulips are given to someone when they ask for forgiveness."

Zandik smirked.

"Regrettably, it seems that such an occurrence is unlikely to transpire. Do not expect such words and gifts from me."

You smiled.

"We'll see, we'll see."

Taglist (pls notify if you wish to be on the taglist for the last two): @average-yandere-enjoyer @pix-stuff @sagekun @vennnnn-diagram @dilucragnidvr @tnsophiaonly @lsleepysimpl

#ansy-writes #yandere genshin #yandere genshin x reader #yandere genshin impact #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere dottore #yandere zandik #yandere dottore x reader #dottore x reader #dottore #columbina #arlecchino #lyney #il dottore x reader #il dottore #yandere genshin impact x reader #yandere fanfiction #yandere male #yandere genshin x you #yandere genshin imagines

[randomer4567]

Run (Alpha Damian x Omega Reader)

Summary: You ran away from your alpha, years later he and his family tracked you down.

You despised the galas that Bruce would incessantly throw, primarily because of the other Omegas in attendance. They were nothing more than spoiled brats from wealthy backgrounds. In contrast, you hailed from a low-class family and had to fight tooth and nail to rise to the top. Eventually, you managed to secure a job at Wayne Industries, where you crossed paths with Damian Wayne. What intrigued you about him was his scent, a rarity since you rarely found yourself drawn to the scents of other Alphas, save for your dam and your older sister, who was also an Alpha.

Damian stood apart from the rest, as he seemed disinterested in the typical Alpha behavior of seeking out a harem of omegas.

You didn't actively pursue him, but to your surprise, he took the initiative and asked you out on a date. Initially, you almost canceled because you lacked a suitable fancy dress. However, Damian came through and sent you a dress and heels to wear. The two of you hit it off, leading to him asking you out again. This time, you had a wonderful time together. Love blossomed between you, and soon enough, Damian's rut coincided with your heat.

You decided to spend this intimate time at your place since Damian preferred not to be around his brothers and father during his rut, fearing he might go feral. That's how the two of you officially became a couple. In the beginning, Damian was sweet, treating you with gentleness, care, and respect. He showered you with attention, making you feel special and safe. He seemed to have a deep understanding of you. However, over time, he grew distant, concealing your mating mark in public and distancing himself from you. Your inner omega blamed itself, leading you to make the difficult decision to leave.

You concocted a plan to convince Damian that you were unwell. Convincing Alfred proved to be challenging, so you simply informed him that you were going through a rough week and desired some solitude. With Alfred being an omega himself, he understood your need for privacy and even aided in making it appear as though you were coming down with a cold. And now, you found yourself packing your belongings into a bag, including essential clothing, toiletries, scent blockers, enough food for several days, your cellphone, and laptop for communication with work (having transitioned to freelancing), a small first-aid kit for minor injuries, and a few books for entertainment during your journey. You had meticulously planned everything and were ready to go.

"Omega," Damian's voice called out, causing you to freeze. You mentally cursed yourself, and he approached, peering into your bag. "Are we going somewhere?" he asked, though the look on your face made him rephrase his question. "You're going somewhere," he stated, this time without a hint of uncertainty. You desperately searched for a way to lie or at least avoid getting into trouble.

"Something came up with my sister," you replied, avoiding his gaze, although his mesmerizing green eyes captivated you. Damian raised an eyebrow and remarked, "And you faked being sick just to visit your sister?" Your heart raced as you tried to think of a response. You knew you had to come up with something soon. Taking a deep breath, you attempted to explain.

"Yes, I needed to see her. She hasn't been doing well lately," you quickly added, "I just wanted to make sure she was alright." Damian regarded you with a suspicious expression, and you could tell he wasn't entirely convinced.

He nodded slowly and said, "Alright." Damian walked away, leaving you alone with your thoughts. Sighing, you glanced out the window, feeling a sense of relief. You knew Damian would keep an eye on you. You slung your bag over your shoulder, opened the window, and cursed silently. Why did Damian have to choose a bedroom on the third floor? Fortunately, the presence of vines provided a stroke of luck. You grabbed onto them and climbed down.You fled the Wayne property, having purchased a one-way ticket to Gotham months before, before you had met Damian.

You applied scent blockers before boarding the plane. Your laptop was turned off, and your phone was set to airplane mode.Years passed, and you built a new life for yourself. Adopting an alias in your freelancing work, you altered your appearance slightly. While you didn't have a new mate, you lived with your beta cousin, who willingly helped conceal your omega scent. Despite occasional bouts of loneliness, you found contentment in your new existence. That is, until the day you unexpectedly encountered someone you never thought you would see again—Tim Drake.

You pretended not to notice him, grateful for the scarf you had borrowed from your cousin. By a strange twist of fate, you ended up in the same grocery line. Tim attempted to engage in small talk, questioning how you had been, why you left without a word, and urging you to call Damian as he had been searching for you. Feeling a surge of anxiety, you swiftly made your escape, driving a few blocks away before abandoning the car to avoid any potential tracking. With groceries in hand, you approached your cousin's home, only to be confronted by a startling sight—Red Hood and Damian holding your cousin at gunpoint.

To be continued...

#dc omegaverse #daddy's good girl #daddy’s babygirl #bruce wayne #batfam #jason todd #dick grayson #damian wayne x reader #damian wayne al ghul #damian wayne imagine #damian wayne robin #damian wayne x y/n #damian al ghul #batfamily #alfred pennyworth #damain wayne #tim drake #Alpha Damian Wayne

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: Unrequited.

Pairings: Arlecchino x Reader x Furina (Genshin).

Word Count: 1.1k.

TW: Reader Doesn't Have A Gender But Everyone Here Is A Melodramatic Lesbian. Live Dove: Tender and Sweet.

[Part Two]

Arlecchino has never struggled to find her way to you.

She would have, if she needed to. That was something she prided herself on: her perseverance when it came to all things, her determination when it came to her pursuits – romantic or otherwise. When she was in Snezhnaya, she dreamed each night of crossing oceans and climbing mountains and tearing apart the Tsaritsa and all of her many soldiers with her own monstrous hands if only to win the chance of finding her way back to your side, and when she was in Fontaine, there was nothing – not her duties as a Harbinger, not the fate of her nation, and only very rarely her beloved children – that could keep her away from you. Fortunately (more so for the rest of Teyvat than for her), she never had to go through so much effort.

No matter how distant she might’ve been, you were always exactly where she'd left you: at the right hand of Lady Furina, Protector and God of Fontaine, or as Arlecchino had come to think of her, the only person you would ever cross oceans to be with.

Also, coincidentally, the only person thick-skulled enough not to pay you a second glance.

She found you watching your dearly beloved from your usually crow’s nest; a balcony that overlooked the rest of the venue, your eyes cast downward towards the ballroom and a sickeningly tender smile painted across your lips. As Arlecchino neared you, she could see what you were so transfixed by and weather the wave of nausea that accompanied the sight of Lady Furina holding court with a handful of Fontaine’s elite, her hands moving excitedly as she recited some practiced monologue Arlecchino could only be thankful she was too far to hear. An exasperated sigh escaped her lips as she came to stand beside you, extending a flute of champagne which you gladly accepted. She had invited you back to her manor when she first discovered your fondness for such fine things, practically begged you to sample the finest wines and bourbons in her vast collection, but you only shook your had and told her that Furina would need your held reviewing case files for her next trial, grinning like an idiot all the while. If she hadn’t been so endeared by your smile, she might’ve hated you for how thoughtlessly you dismissed her.

“The orchestra is half-way decent, tonight.” She rested a hand on the crook of your arm, let her head lilt to the side. “Care to join me for a dance?”

Your love-struck smile widened. “No, thank you. I’m saving my first for her.” A quick nod towards Furina, one of her boots now propped on a chair provided by one of her audience members. “She’s been working on her waltz, lately – she only stepped on my feet twice while we were practicing this afternoon.”

You said it as if Furina had plucked the moon from the sky and gifted it to you on a silver chain. Arlecchino couldn’t help but scoff. “I have no idea what you see in her. She would starve to death if you weren’t there to remind her to eat.” You sighed wistfully and she took a generous sip from her own drink before going on. “She’s a poor excuse for an entertainer, let alone an archon. If it wasn’t for that judge of hers, she’d have a revolution on her hands in a matter of hours.”  

“You’re only saying that because you don’t know her. She might not have Monsieur Neuvillette’s resolution, but she’s not trying to be Monsieur Neuvillette.” For the first time since the start of your conversation, you looked towards Arlecchino and she could’ve sworn the rest of the ballroom ceased to exist. If she’d been a weaker woman, she would’ve fallen to one knee and presented the ring she kept in her breast pocket when she knew she would see you, would’ve drawn her sword and pleaded with you to drive it through her heart, but your attention turned back to your archon and the temptation faded back into more of a wishful fancy than a possible reality. “She’s wonderful, and brilliant, and she makes me laugh. Whenever I picture myself happy, I picture myself with her. I love her.” She’d heard you say it a thousand times before, and yet, her heart seemed to break in an entirely new way every time those words – coated in such a saccharine affection – trickled off of your tongue. She was glad she was not a weaker woman, upon further thought; if she was, you would’ve done her in months ago. “She’s everything to me.”

She couldn’t help herself. As delicate as she tried to be with you, there would always be a part of her that couldn’t help but twist the knife. “Doesn’t it hurt?” And then, when you hummed for clarification, “Loving someone so incapable of loving you back?”

You let out a breath of a laugh, the noise like windchimes and wedding bells. “I don’t know, Lord Arlecchino.” You glanced over your shoulder. “Does it?”

Ah, there it was.

Despite everything, she’d fallen for a sadist after all.

She let the corner of her mouth curl upward. “More than I could ever say.”

This time, your laugh was more throaty, more full-hearted. “What a sorry sight we must make, too pining romantics mourning lost love at a party.” Your tone dipped into something more genuine, albeit still playful. “My first dance is taken, but would it be too much of an insult to offer you my second?”

She moved to speak, to tell you that you could dig your heel into her foot and spit in her face and she would still be able to thank you sincerely for sparing her so much of your attention, but a melodical voice called your name and instantly, you were stolen away by a head of white hair and two mismatched eyes emerging at the top of the nearest staircase, still glowing with the zeal of a performer post-applause. Furina latched onto you with all she was worth; arms wrapping around your own as she pressed herself into your side. “Evidently, you have forgotten your duties to your goddess,” Furina started properly, her little speech already rehearsed to perfection. “Must I remind you that I am always to be the center of your attention?”

“Never, my lady.” And, in an instant, Arlecchino was gone to you, nothing more than a momentary distraction you would not be returning to for as long as Furina held you in her spotlight. “In fact, I believe you still owe me a dance.”

The reminder was unnecessary. Furina was already pulling you back down to the ballroom floor, already spouting off something about how cruel it would be of her to deny such an earnest request from her most faithful servant, about how foolish you are for believing her memory would be so fallible as to forget even the most trivial of promises. With a ragged breath, Arlecchino took up your post, watching dutifully as you were pulled into (what could be called by the most generous of onlookers) a terribly mangled waltz. It was proof of Furina’s fortune that she’d found the only person in Teyvat with the fortitude and patience to be so hopelessly in love with her.

It was proof to your fortune that, even when faced with the wrath of gods, Arlecchino was not one to give up so easily.

#genshin impact #genshin impact imagines #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin imagines #genshin #furina x reader #furina x you #focalors x reader #arlecchino x reader #arlecchino x you #it's not wednesday BUT #woman loving wednesday #on monday ig

[starryknight-tarot]

𝓦𝓱𝓪𝓽 𝓶𝓪𝓴𝓮𝓼 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓼𝓸 𝓪𝓽𝓽𝓻𝓪𝓬𝓽𝓲𝓿𝓮?

pile 1 -- > pile 2 -- > pile 3

pile 4 -- > pile 5 -- > pile 6

my masterlist<3 . paid readings

Hello beautiful souls ✨ welcome back to another tarot reading! Today we will going into what makes you so attractive. Feel free to pick more than one pile if you are called. Remember to meditate, take a deep breath and pick whatever pile calls to you the most. Make sure to take what resonates and leave what doesn't. The artist for picture is @tnk_gr on instagram in case anyone was wondering

Pile 1

Cards: Queen of Pentacles, The Wheel of Fortune, Five of Pentacles rx, Knight of Cups rx, Four of Wands, The Hermit rx, Ten of Wands rx, The Tower rx

Back of the deck: Two of Pentacles

While I was shuffling the cards for you Pile 1, I kept on hearing the same two phrases. "Looks like they have their shit together" and "Breathtaking when they walk into a room" which I can see both from the cards. What makes you so attractive Pile 1 is your gentle and caring nature. You are a natural at conversation and can whoo anyone in your presence. You radiate natural glow that makes people jealous. People are naturally attracted to you with your positive energy. You give off the energy of the shy main protagonist of a k-drama that everyone wants to be friends with. You could be an ENFJ or INFJ. People find it very attractive how generous you are and how you seem genuinely happy to assist people who need help. Especially the people close to you get to watch as you selflessly do everything in your power to help. I want to say to be careful of people who would take advantage of this beautiful trait but I am getting that some of you may already know this and you might already be very careful with who you share your energy with. People notice that you look very well dressed. You could wear expensive brands or at least people think you dress very fancy. Some of you might be influencers or have a large social media presence. People just like to watch you be yourself. You are very charming in a unique way Pile 1. You are very cute Pile 1, especially when you just woke up. You could be very clingy in the mornings. I am hearing some of you may have very soft delicate hands, you could like getting your nails done and they always look really pretty. I heard people like watching you succeeded so people are rooting for you Pile 1.

Advice Cards:

The issue at hand is about reflection. What is the mirror showing you?

Make your presence felt

It is important to ask for help

Seek to understand from a place of connection rather than separation

Align body, mind, and spirit. Know that you are whole

Take a lighter approach and smile about all facets in your life. A smile reflects a heart at peace

Channeled Song:

Pile 2

Cards: Four of Wands, Queen of Cups, Ten of Cups, Three of Cups, The Sun, Eight of Pentacles rx, The Lovers, Two of Wands

Back of the deck: The World

Woah Pile 2, this energy feels very strong and overwhelmingly positive. For some of you, I am getting that you could be famous(ooh la la). I am hearing you could be a model, dancer, or singer. A little similar to pile 1, so you could have also felt called to that pile. You are very fun to be around Pile 2. You seem very extroverted and out-going. I am hearing that you are a lot of people's sunshine. People find you to be hilarious and love spending time with you. People find your overall personality very attracting and are just drawn to you. I am getting that people often see themselves being with you, you have a lot of secret admirers. I heard people see you as a rare breath of fresh air. People love hanging out with you and feeling connected through being around you. It's really attractive when you are just genuinely enjoying yourself. You could like going to clubs or parties. You have a very funny or distinctive laugh that is very addicting. Your voice could also be very smoothing and attractive. I heard smooth like honey lol. But I also feel like some of you may be very loud individuals and people really like that about you. I also heard you have very clear skin and just a very fresh appearance. It is very attractive how trustworthy you are Pile 2. You are seem as a friend that people know they can rely on and loyal to your friends even if you just became friends with them. You also have very nice hair, it looks healthy and smooth even if you have dyed it. I am hearing some of you have very nice legs. You could look really attractive in moments when most people look bad like when you fall over or when you are eating. You have a lot of people watching you Pile 2 and all the comments are positive.

Advice Cards:

Reflect on one of your blessings

Release all attachments that do not serve you

Practice the pause

Pay attention to your breathing, It is reflecting your life

Look closely at what is going on around you

Your spirits wings are unfolding, It is time to take flight!

Channeled Song:

Pile 3

Cards: Justice rx, Ace of Pentacles rx, Page of Swords, Temperance, Three of Pentacles, Nine of Swords, Ten of Swords, King of Cups rx

Back of the deck: Three of Cups

You are a very powerful soul Pile 3. Your fearless and unstoppable aura makes you extremely attractive. You have unwavering confidence that is immediately noted the moment people make eye contact with you. I feel like you make people nervous just looking at them. You give me very strong femme fatale vibes and it is so hot. You put fear into people's souls in the best way that makes them blush uncontrollably in seconds. You could have gone through a lot of bullshit in the past that has made you determined to never let anyone get to you. I keep hearing a quote from the show Bridgerton that I feel like really relates to this pile. "I was afraid even of my own reflection, I entered a room and attempted to dissolve into the shadows. Instead, I made myself frighting. I sharpen my wit, my wardrobe, and my eye, and I made myself the most terrifying creature in any room I entered."(Lady Dunbury is a complete badass girl boss and I aspire to be like her everyday). You have taken the hard experiences of your past and instead of letting it make you weaker, you used it to your advantage and learned how to grow stronger. This is so attractive. You give off a badass energy that people aspire to be. You could like to wear makeup and it always looks amazing. Especially a dark red lip and bold eyeliner. I am also hearing you look good in tight clothes or clothes that outline your figure. There is a mystery that makes you so attracting to everyone around you. I am not getting that you are the type to keep many people around you but the close friends you do have you would KILL for and you are extremely loyal to which I think people take notice of. Everyone wants to get to know you on a personal level but that's a privilege you only grant to very special people. You also give off the vibe of someone that could defend your self. I heard they don't wanna be on the other side of your fist lmao. But people find that SO hot Pile 3. You get the kind of comments people write about their favorite celebrity on twitter like hit me with your car or you could slap me in the face and I would say thank you lol. But I am also hearing that you maybe have a kind of tomboyish(or just boyish) charm that only people close to you get to see and they find it adorable. You are overall a complete badass that is people can't help but make people a blushing mess in your presence.

Advice Cards:

You are birthing a new self

You are moving beyond your old form. Congratulation!

Hold your life from a sacred viewpoint. Witness the universal picture

Deep, deep down, something needs attention

A rite of passage allows you to move forward into new realms

In harmony with your inner self, you are free to do or be whatever you choose

Allow for old memories to come up and be released

Channeled Song:

Pile 4

Cards: Eight of Cups, The High Priestess rx, The Tower rx, King of Cups rx, Knight of Pentacles, Page of Swords, King of Coins, Page of Pentacles, Knight of Cups (Don't tell the other piles you got an extra card lol)

Back of the deck: Seven of Pentacles

You have a very childish charm Pile 4. People can't help but laugh when they are around you. You may be very clumsy or say silly things that can't help but put a smile on people's faces. People find you so cute and loveable. It's very attractive how you seem to never give up, even if the odds are against you. I keep seeing you playing chess with someone and you are so clearly losing but you have absolute certainty that you will win despite everything. But then you do win and everyone is surprised but it teaches them that you are not a force to be reckoned with and it really adds to your charm. The people are eating it up Pile 4. You could also be very good with kids and enjoy the less serious parts of life which people find really refreshing. I feel like some people may judge you for being childish but you don't even let it get to you everyone loves that about you. You give off cute bimbo/himbo energy that I think really makes an impression on people. Even after you have left the room, you remain on people's minds. You also have a very strong ambition that makes you shine and stand out from the crowd. I am hearing you may have very large eyes, eyes that sparkle brighter than the brightest star in the sky. People get lost in your eyes Pile 4. I heard that you look really pretty crying. You have a very innocent and youthful glow to you that makes you all the more cute. You also have a lot of hidden talents that you share in random moments. You have hidden lore that always come in handy and wows the people around you. Overall you have a very charming and lovingly goofy personality that makes you very attractive.

Advice Cards:

You are intended to succeed. Align your actions with your highest dreams

Stand your ground

It is time to take appropriate action

Your acts of love, kindness, and unlimited forgiveness bestow grace upon you

Considerable and consistent effort may now be required

You are ready to receive your fortune. Be miracle minded!

Channeled Song:

Pile 5

Cards: Death, Seven of Swords, Nine of Cups, Queen of Cups, Two of Cups, Two of Wands, Three of Pentacles rx, Knight of Swords rx

Back of the deck: The Devil

I am getting very strong siren vibes from this pile. I feel like you could get anyone to do anything you asked Pile 5. It's almost as if there is an invisible force making everyone fall in love with you. Your smile is very warming and welcoming and I'm hearing that you give the best hugs. You look like you came straight out of a fairy tale, your looks are almost incomparable. I am getting that you might have had a big glow up and now everyone is literally in love with you. Everyone thinks you are their soulmate Pile 5. I am getting that you have very strong duality, almost every style suits you. And to add the cherry on top, you are so humble about it. You might not have even realised that people feel this way about you but OH MY GOODNESS are people swoon over you. I just heard you make the straightest people gay lol. You have people tied around your finger Pile 5. With the Devil at the back of the deck, people are obsessed with you pile 5. They think about you 24/7, tossing and turning with you on your mind at night. I am getting that you have a cheerful and elegant aura that just draws people in. You may be soft spoken but speak in a way that just gets people listening. I am hearing some people find everything you do attractive. Beware of creepers Pile 5. I am getting the same vibes as character from a show called Komi Can't Communicate. In the show, she is too afraid to speak to people but she wants to be friends with everyone, however this is super easy for her since everyone is absolutely obsessed with her and would do anything for her. You are a very warm personality that people can't seem to get enough of.

Advice Cards:

Release all that keeps you in the past. Forgive and liberate yourself!

Give up resistance in your current situation

Your child self needs your attention

This challenge is intended to promote your growth

The issue at hand is about reflection. What is the mirror showing you?

Release all attachments that do not serve you

You are wiser than you think

Channeled Songs:

Pile 6

Cards: Three of Cups, King of Swords, King of Pentacles, Two of Swords rx, Four of Pentacles, Ten of Swords, Ace of Cups, Death rx

Back of the deck: Ace of Pentacles

Pile 6, you give off a very cool vibe. I feel like you may be into sports or use a skateboard. I heard beautifully tanned skin but that might not be for everyone. What makes you so attractive is your devotion to the people around. You are like everyone's girlfriend/boyfriend/partner in the way that people feel like they can rely on you, trust you with their deepest darkest secrets and protect them at all costs. You are the type to stand up when nobody else would and that is really admirable. You are the type to say the most romantic, poetic shit anyone has ever heard and then shrug it off like it was nothing. So hot Pile 6. I also feel like you are always being your most authentic, real self. You are very in tune with your emotions and are willing to accept when you make a mistake. You may have a very toned muscular body that you aren't afraid to show off. I am getting that you are the type to check in with the people around you and make sure they are ok and healthy which makes people so grateful to have you in their life. You manage to make every conversation interesting and something everyone will talk and joke about years later. You are someone that shows a lot of passion in your life and puts effort into making yourself the best at what you do. I am also hearing that you have a quick wit that people adore. You're wise and very book smart which impresses everyone around you with your endless knowledge. You can also fit into many friend groups, you have a wide variety of interests and it helps you get along with lots of people. Your ability to make friends with anyone and take care of the people around is very attractive. You are brave and bold and it has everyone fawning over you.

Advice Cards:

A rite of passage allows you to move forward into new realms

Love is the answer to your current situation

No better time to exist than right now

Look closely at what is going on around you

You are intended to succeed. Align your actions with your highest dreams

It is time to challenge old beliefs

Boldly imagine what you can do and be

Channeled Song:

Thanks for tuning in₊‧.°.⋆🫧•˚₊‧⋆.

ps I recommend everyone listens to Natty's Sugarcoat since I was listening to it the entire time I was working on this reading and I felt like it suited a lot of piles :)

#pac tarot #tarot witch #tarot reading #tarot #pick a pile #pick a card reading #pick a photo #tarot reader #Spotify #advice

[reidsdaisies]

PROTECTIVE EMILY WITH READERRRRRR

i would love to witness emily go a lil feral if maybe the unsub punches reader or something. the things that woman makes me feel 😩😩😩 i wanna be held by her and have her kiss my tears away

‘𝐍𝐨𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐚𝐮𝐥𝐭’

༉‧´ˎ˗ pairing; emily prentiss x gn bau!reader

༉‧´ˎ˗ content warnings; guns and typical cm case stuff, reader is shot in the shoulder but is okay, rephrasing of the iconic “I’ve got a Glock leveled at your crotch. What’s to stop me from taking you and the little ones out?” line, stressed emily :( and concerned emily, she blamed herself :(, you don’t blame her, kissingg<3.

༉‧´ˎ˗ wc; 1k

༉‧´ˎ˗ a/n; i don’t think this is the exact situation you wanted, but this is the direction i took it. not proof read.

𝐂𝐌 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 || 𝐌𝐀𝐈𝐍 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

“Honey, don’t.”

You gave a silent nod, pressing your lips together in an attempt to keep your mouth shut. Her hand was pressed against your chest, the chest protected by the bulletproof vest you were wearing. She gave you a light pat before drawing her gun and swiftly turning the corner.

Two shots from her Glock is all it took before the unsub was out cold. You all knew he would try to ambush the two of you, just like he did with his victims, and so Emily needed you to be quiet in order for the situation to go the right way. Fortunately, it was easier than you guys had anticipated, and as she bent down to confiscate the perpetrator's weapon, she was taken aback when she looked up to see you turned around the other way, standing beside her with your gun drawn.

“Drop your weapon!” You yelled to the unknown man, but it was too late because he had already fired his shot at you. Luckily, his aim wasn’t too great, and even though you were hit by the bullet, it was in your shoulder, nowhere where the damage couldn’t be undone. You yelped, pushed back slightly by the force, hitting the brick wall behind you, completely caught off guard.

He doesn’t have a chance to redo his shot, because Emily is on it, aiming her gun at a particularly low area on his body.

“I’ve got a Glock leveled at your crotch. Nothing is stopping me from taking you and the little ones out right now, so I’d advise you to listen to my partner and drop your weapon.”

The second unsub falters at that, clearly not wanting to sacrifice his private parts just for the opportunity to maybe shoot two FBI agents and have even more charges against him than he already has. With her words, he slowly lowers down to the ground, placing his weapon down and sliding it across the ground to her.

She stops the gun while still never taking her eyes off him. “Now, hands behind your back.”

“Two unsubs? Two of them! How didn’t we know there were two of them?” She thinks aloud, pacing back and forth right in front of where you sit in the back of an ambulance. She runs a hand through her hair, sighing deeply.

“Em,” You drawl, looking at her with a look her brain, clouded by anger towards the man who hurt you, convinces her is betrayal, but in actuality is just concern.

“It’s my fault, you’re hurt and it’s my fault because I was so sure there was only one unsub.”

She winces at the memory of watching you get shot injury, her vision flashing back to the sight of you leaning yourself up against the wall, hand pressed over your shoulder, blood seeping through your fingers and down your sleeve.

“Emily, sit down and take a breath before you pass out and hit the ground and I’m no longer the only one sitting in the back of an ambulance, getting treated for a wound.”

“Right, you’re right, y/n,” she swallows, moving to sit down next to you on the edge of the ambulance. “It was just your shoulder, and we’ll be going back home soon. I didn’t mean to stress you out, it’s just I can’t stand seeing you in pain like how you were when he shot you.”

The EMT who’s treating your shoulder wound moves to your side, making room for Emily who’s now sitting on your left. You were shot in the right shoulder, so the EMT is still able to work on bandaging you up.

“I know Em, and you should know that it’s not your fault. None of us could have seen that turn of events happening, not even Reid, so don’t beat yourself up for it. And I also know you’re salty that Hotch won’t let you go over to the station to interrogate the man, but that’s most definitely for the best. I know what you’re like when you’re upset with someone for hurting the ones you love, and the guy seems like a pussy, I’m sure he would crap his pants.”

Emily lets out a small chuckle at your comment, the tension slowly dissipating from her features as she leans into your side. "You’re probably right, y/n," she admits, her voice softening with gratitude. "As much as I want to give that guy a piece of my mind, I know it's probably for the best if I leave it to Hotch, just this time."

You offer her a reassuring squeeze with the hand of your uninjured arm, a silent gesture of comfort and solidarity.

She meets your gaze, her eyes shimmering with unspoken emotion as she leans in to press a gentle kiss to your forehead.

She pulls back, smiling at you.

“You’re very strong, you know that y/n?”

You nod. “You remind me all the time.”

Emily breathily chuckles. “I mean it. You don’t let things like this phase you, and I admire that quality.”

This time you’re the one leaning in, pressing a kiss to her darkly-colored lips.

“Thank you for noticing, and for caring so deeply for me to the point that you get yourself all worked up about it. But also please don’t let your concern get to the level where you’re stressed like that, especially over something you didn’t have control over.”

“I can't make any promises.. but I will try, for you.” She seals her words with another kiss to your lips, the lips now tainted by her lipstick.

“All done,” the EMT says with a smile, pulling you two from your little shared moment.

“Let's get back to the station, y/n,” Emily says, hopping down from the vehicle and offering her hand to you, which you very gratefully accept.

#reidsdaisies #reidsdaisies emily <3 #emily prentiss #emily prentiss fluff #emily prentiss scenario #emily prentiss imagine #emily prentiss blurb #emily prentiss drabble #emily prentiss oneshot #emily prentiss fanfic #emily prentiss fanfiction #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss x female reader #emily prentiss x gender neutral reader #emily prentiss x fem!reader #emily prentiss x gn!reader #criminal minds #emily prentiss criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds x reader

[vitaminseetarot]

Butterfly PAC: What Will Your Next Falling in Love Feel Like? 🦋💕

Some think love can be measured by the amount of butterflies in their tummy. Others think love can be measured in bunches of flowers, or by using the words 'for ever.' But love can only truly be measured by actions. It can be a small thing, such as peeling an orange for a person you love because you know they don't like doing it. Marian Keyes

Sup y'all and welcome back to my free PAC readings! Thank you so so much for your patience with this particular post. It's been a busy week and it'll only get busier! I haven't done many love readings in the past as my readings focused solely on the querent. I decided to keep it simple and focus on that (frankly addicting) feeling of falling in love for the first time with someone.

There are four butterflies to choose from today to show you how it will feel like for you the next time you fall in love. If you're already with someone, this can represent how it feels when your partner does something truly special for you, what the right signal feels like.

As always you can choose more than one.

Pile 1, Blue Morpho Pile 2, Orange Monarch Pile 3, Red Peacock Pile 4, Emerald Swallowtail Pile 5, Purple Emperor

Pile 1: Blue (Morpho)

XVIII Moon; Rest, Inspiration, Let it Be, 28. Blessed Sight; X Wheel of Fortune, 5 of Pentacles, XIII Death, XIV Temperance

I pulled your oracle cards before your tarot, and before I did I said "this must be my Pisces pile". Then BOOM I got the Moon card dead center. You may be drawn to this pile if you have a lot or important Pisces placements, but I think it also very well describes the general energy of this pile.

Your next falling in love will be like a dream, or something that came from your dreams. Your person may remind you of someone you once met in your dreams even. It will feel as though your crush will be as a glowing light in the dark that warms you as you move forward into the unknown. If you're with someone, they could be showing up in your dreams more and more--there could even be a case of you both receiving signals about each other.

You're comfortable with letting fate be the guiding hand in you you'll meet next and what your partner will be like. Notice how in two cards we see closed eyes? One is resting, while the other is still walking to where she wants to go. There is a certain faith about this pile, you feel in your heart that the one you're seeking is out there and that you will not need to put yourself in uncomfortable situations to find them.

With this, sometimes you may falter and feel disheartened when you feel other people meeting their match while you're still watching the clouds roll by in the shape of your dreams. Fate combines both luck and change. Don't be afraid to sit back and let the process unfold before you. It doesn't mean you can expect your dream crush to come knocking on your door (although they could!), you can put yourself out there and mingle. This is an internal sense, adopt the intuition of letting the little guiding lights connect together and guide you when they are ready to.

Pile 2: Orange (Monarch)

XII Hanged One; Abundance, Pause, Determination, 11. Inspiration; XI Justice, King of Cups, 3 of Swords, 10 of Wands

This pile has likely had relationships in the recent past which may not have worked out. Or there were some romantic prospects where things didn't line up right. It seems like you're working on bringing yourself back into alignment where you can focus more on your personal goals in life. While there's nothing wrong with that, this question is about what it will feel like the next time you're in love. And I have to remind those who need this message that it's okay to take the time you need to recover.

But when you're finally ready to emerge back into the dating world, or if you're planning to, you will need to do so with open arms. Not the same as naïveté. Not the same as being in the same situations or patterns that didn't work out before. But you will need to push aside negative feelings telling you it won't work out again before you can move further with other singles. If you're in a relationship it's likely that your partner wants to see your emotional qualities more, they want you to open up so they can do the same. They want to work side-by-side with you and help you.

You're a strong individual when it comes to reaching your goals. With that said, it's okay to let others, specifically your next partner, help you out in areas you normally excel in. It will help loosen the tension a lot and bring ease to your abundance mindset. Support is with you and you don't need to do it alone. Let your crush carry some of the extra bags for you and help you relax. And don't think that by doing this you're somehow limiting yourself from reaching your future goals. If anything, your crush will help you move ahead. Your crush will want to see you CRUSH it in the board room. You will feel 100% backed and protected by your next love.

Also I wanted to add that when I did the reading for this pile, a little moth landed on my door's window and stared at me upside down like the Hanged One! Not a butterfly, but close enough! Moths talk about what you're intuitively drawn to, but also confusion following paths (since artificial light messes with their navigation). Let moths be your animal sign for when you're soon to meet your next love. They will help to guide you towards the better light.

Pile 3: Red (Peacock)

7 of Wands; Mystery, Desire, Wisdom, 24. Heal Thyself; 3 of Pentacles, VI Lovers, Queen of Cups, 7 of Wands (x2)

Pile 3, I'm glad I chose the beautiful red Peacock butterfly for your reading because this pile is incredibly bold! You got 7 of wands twice. It doesn't seem as though you're scared to stand out of the crowd to attract your next crush. Similarly, you want the same in your partner. You may be looking for someone who's strong and assertive, and maybe loves to put on a good show for people (as we have Mars in Leo here).

You could be into punk, or darker music genres. Your next love will be fiery, but won't show all their cards. They leave just enough detail for you to want to know more, I think they'd like to egg you on or tease you (but not in a mean way). This person could be way more intelligent than they may let on initially. You'll feel challenged by them, in a refreshing way. They may invite you to debate or play something competitive with them.

I think there's one thing that must be greatly noted with this pile, and that's remembering to stop and take some time for yourself. It doesn't mean stepping out of the dating scene. There's a fine line to walk between meeting someone who's very attractive at face level and the love that comes from genuine compatibility. Lovers speaks about integrating these two parts as one instead of thinking it's one or the other.

You also need to make sure to prioritize your own needs as well rather than get caught up in the heat of passion. I don't think this pile struggles at all with passion, but some emotional discretion is advised here. There could have been people surrounding past relationships who weren't really supportive of who you were with. Whether or not they were in the "right", it's left you a bit defensive over who you choose to be with. Please remember to take time away from every influence to listen to your own inner voice.

Pile 4: Green (Emerald Swallowtail)

King of Pentacles; Stop, Pause, Goals, 23. Big Picture; 2 of Cups, XVII Star, XIV Temperance, 6 of Cup

Oh wow, pile 4. Stop and Pause side by side, and then we have Goals on the bottom. Stopping goals! Says who?! Not you, Emerald Swallowtail, with the King of Pentacles in front. You must be a very career or school driven group. Money savvy, ambitious, and unafraid to chart unknown territory. You'll definitely be a catch for the next person you fall for.

Except it doesn't seem like you're in the mood for the dating scene at all. Not in the fun and casual sense anyway. You want someone serious and committed, right off the bat. Someone who's fiscally responsible and likely as driven as you. You want someone who comes right in, sits down, and presents themselves as a good partner as though they're interviewing for a job hoping the star will stand out of the pack. Mainly, you want to know exactly what you're in for before sticky things like emotions even enter the picture.

This pile seems similar to my pile 2. Maybe somebody in the past told you that as soon as you marry or get serious with someone, it's gonna affect your career or your stability and that sacrifices will inevitably be made. That seeking any kind of relationship is like stepping over huge boulders hoping your ankle won't fall through between the cracks. The thing is, emotions are already involved in this. Your next love will make you feel stable and secure, knowing that you don't have to push too hard to get by.

Moreover, your next love will LOVE that you're career oriented. They will not be threatened by your achievements. They can help you bring balance between the adult side of you that's disciplined and focused and the little kid in you who wants to play and explore. Your next love will help you expand beyond what you thought was possible in a relationship. You'll be half of a real power couple who can tackle anything together with forces combined.

Pile 5: Purple (Emperor)

6 of Wands; Ideation, Open Heart, Hibernation, 2. Understanding; XII Hanged One, 10 of Cups, Page of Swords, 7 of Wands

Hi, lovely pile 5! Your next love will simply make you feel like you're actually radiating. Notice all the little diamonds on the 6 of wands as well as the Ideation card? Your next love will feel more rare than diamonds, it will have you shining like one. There is such warmth with this pile, it's like the sense of having a good looking musician with a great smile gently guide your hand up on stage to let you be part of the show. Even if you're the shy type to stand back, your crush will rave about you enough to have you blushing. They'll root for your success even when you'd rather be modest.

I get with this pile that you may be slow to open up with new people, and that you would prefer to take your time in meeting someone serious. You may be just starting to dip your feet in the dating scene, perhaps for the first time. You're realizing that it's one thing to imagine what it'd be like to go out and meet new people, but it's another to actually do it. But I don't see any reason to worry too much here. Even if you come off as shy, people can sense the glow of your aura. You have a quiet but unabashed confidence and may attract that in your next partner as well.

If there's one thing I can advise for you, pile 5, is to avoid being over critical about who you would rather be or NOT be with. I mean overcritical about the little things. Try to avoid saying things like "I can't be with someone who chews too loud" because you could meet the love of your life where that happens to be their one and only flaw. If you allow compassion to rule here, then it will return back to you ten fold.

Your next love feels so smooth and romantic, your next crush will want to woo you. They will really go out their way to impress you and while they can be comfortable inside the house on rainy days, likely there will be chances to travel and share new experiences abroad. They'll love being with you but will work to warm you up to the wonders of life. They will yearn for your happiness, pile 5, your bliss will be their success! When your heart tells you it's safe, allow yourself to wander into a new adventure with someone who lights up your world inside and out.

This reading has not been evaluated by the FDA to diagnose, prevent, treat, or cure any disease or infection. Please ask your physician before going online.

2023, @VitaminseeTarot ™

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