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pretty-little-mind33 · 3 months ago

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James Potter x fem!reader / Pietro Maxmioff x fem!reader

Summary: Nothing is as it seems.

Prompt: "You look familiar. Where do I know you from?"

Warnings: crossover au, death, pietro, reader, and james are all sixteen, ending is very much up to interpretation (open-ended lol), confusing on purpose 😉

~ @simp-for-fictional-people this is SO niche and so different then anything I usually write! i hope this is what you wanted, lovie!! ~

ps: while i personally fan-cast James as Aaron Taylor-Johnson in my head and use him for headers, i try and write his physical descriptions more ambiguously in my other james works because i know there are plenty of other amazing James fan-casts (including poc!james, which i really love)! however, for this story's purposes, he's supposed to look like pietro 😁 ~

JAMES POTTER MASTERLIST

PIETRO MAXIMOFF MASTERLIST

BLURB MASTERLIST

Dead.

The word rings in your ears but you don't register it. You slide through the rubble, knees scraping the pavement to reach him. Alive? You hope as you see a glimmer of those blue eyes you love so much behind the strands of silver. You whisper his name, the letters feeling wrong on your tongue as you kneel beside him.

You see the blood seeping through his costume and your heart sinks. Dead. Dead. Dead. It's a taunting chant as you push him up to lean his head on your knees, pushing his hair away from his eyes. His eyes, which are staring at you but there's no life behind them anymore.

"No," your voice is shaky as you clutch him, your skin vibrating as your vision blurs. "No. No. No. No," you chant to counter the voice in your head. You bend over and kiss his forehead. No response. You try his cheek as tears stream down your cheeks. "Pietro," you plead, "wake up."

Anger courses your veins as his blood stains your hands. Your head is pounding so loudly you can barely think.

Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead.

The team calls your name. You feel like the world around you is spinning as you feel your powers acting up as you hold him closer to you, crushing his face into your chest as you sob. You feel hot and misplaced as your head is throbbing.

Your name is screamed again but this time, you can't even see them as a blinding green light surrounds you, catching the gimmer on your wrist—the small silver bracelet Pietro had given you for your sixteenth birthday—and you fall unconscious. Your head hits the pavement, making everything turn dark.

His hand touches yours, the background blurry. He looks like a carefree kid again, those rosy cheeks so full of life and future. "Y/n/n, wake up," Pietro whispers, grinning as you stare into his blue eyes. "Wake up now."

You startle awake, sitting up as your chest heaves. You blink, dried tears still on your cheeks. You glance around the room, it looks ancient. You're dressed in clothes you don't immediately recognize as your head continues to throb.

From your bedside, a boy jumps up. He's wearing the same clothes, only his with red accents as opposed to your green ones. His dark hair is curled messily across his features and his glasses rest lopsided on his head. "Thank Merlin!" he exclaims, his British accent thick as he rushes up to you and leans over you, smiling. "Are you okay?"

You blink, looking at his features intensely. His smile, the way his nose curves, the swoop of his hair. His eyes.

The same ones flash in your head.

"You look familiar," you whisper, tilting your head with confusion, "Where do I know you from."

The boy laughs. "Y/n/n, it's me. It's James."

James? James? James? For some reason the name sticks on your tongue. You look at him as your memories rush back. James. Pietro? James.

"Jamie, right," you shake your head, touching your scalp and frowning. "Shit, what happened?"

"You fell and hit your head pretty damn hard, love," James kisses your forehead tenderly. "Madam Pomfrey says you have a small concussion," he smiles and again you have a weird sense of déja-vu.

"I had the weirdest dream," you tell him and look down at your hands, almost expecting to see the green light from around them. Your frown deepens when you see the silver bracelet from your dream. You hold your wrist up.

"James? Where did this come from?"

James looks at the bracelet and shrugs. "Why're you asking me? It's yours."

You turn the bracelet around, frowning again as you see a hint of two small initials engraved onto the metal.

P.M

tags: @mischievousmoony, @sayitlikethecheese, @longlivedelusion, @fangirl-swagg, @tansgirlfriend, @brokeaesthetic , @lqrlei, @princesssunderworld

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voxmortuus · 1 year ago

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Hello. Vox here. 30's. She/They. Married. Requests are OPEN!

↝I write all types of fanfiction. Dark toned, smut and kink, super dark and possessive, the list goes on. You can find various themes ↝here↜. That is my new masterlist, my old one is attached. ↝What will I not write? Underage reader! Won't do it. I will call you out for it. I have a strict policy will not write minor readers so please respect that. Other than anything is really a go. ↝I ask that you please not steal my work and post it elsewhere. I cannot emphasize enough to please not do that. I do not consent to you taking my work in any way shape or form and posting it elsewhere. Reblogs are always welcomed and appreciated. Comments and loves are always welcomed as well! ↝I do not consent to minors reading or interacting with my blog or my works. ↜ ↝You can pretty much guarantee anything you click on to read here has smut so treat it as NSFW. Always read the trigger warnings before you read. Again. I do not consent to posting my work anywhere. Do not steal my work. And again, no minors interacting or anything with my work. You will find yourself blocked and I won't be nice about it. ↝Characters I will write for Aaron Taylor-Johnson.↜ ✭ Sergei Kravinoff - Kraven The Hunter ✭ Sergeant Allen "Ize" Isaac - The Wall ✭ James Frey - A Million Little Pieces ✭ Ford Brody - Godzilla ✭ Count Aleksey Vronsky - Anna Karenina ✭ Ray Marcus - Nocturnal Animals ✭ Ben Leonard - Savages ✭ Tangerine - Bullet Train ✭ Divider & Header Credit to @nyxvuxoa

↬Quiver - Smut Prompt ↬Kitchen Quickie - Smut Prompt

↬A Solitary Love ↬Honeymoon ↬NSFW Alphabet

↬The Taste of You - Smut Prompt

↬"Use My Thigh" Smut Prompt

↬I Think It's Time

↬NSFW Alphabet ↬Netflix & Chill

↬Heat Waves ↬Where You Belong ↬The Taste of a Virgin - DARK FIC. PLEASE READ TRIGGERS ↬Right here. Right now - Anon Smut Prompt

↬Eat Spit Get Dicked ↬U-Turn

↬Begging You! - Smut Prompt

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inklore · 1 year ago

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i know i say this every time i reach a milestone, hell anytime i get a new follower that isn't a blank blog or bot, but i can't believe you guys are still here! still supporting me! still putting up with my chaos! i mean it each time i get all sappy about how grateful i am for each and every one of you and how i lucked out with you beautiful souls occupying this space with me. if i could send you all a little cupcake and a forehead kiss i would <3.

but since i can't do that let's have a little celebration instead!

like the flyer above states this celebration will focus solely on graphics and ya girl putting that photoshop to work and brushing off some of my old graphic and creative skills.

★ THE RULES.

you do not have to be following me to send something in unless something is specifically labeled 'mutuals only' then, unless we are mutuals, you cannot send anything from that section.

you can send in as many requests from whatever section as you want, there is no limit. but please refrain from sending requests for animated projects.

this celebration does not have an end date so unless the above image says 'closed' then send things in whenever you wish!

blank blogs and ageless blogs as well as minors please refrain from sending things in, respectfully.

do not steal or claim any of the graphics i make as your own.

♡ MUTUALS ONLY.

moodboards...i'll make you a personalized moodboard / aesthetic. ➥ a 'your vibe' moodboard aka i'll go off of the vibes and aesthetics you give off to me or a character + trope + scenario moodboard

gif requests...i'll make a gifset of whatever character you ask for. ➥ can be a certain scene, from a certain movie, what have you. but please note the list of characters + movies from the actors down below are more likely to give me the most inspo to make something from. but please feel free to ask me for someone not on the list because chances are i'll do it unless i truly dislike the actor or character.

ship edit...i'll make a little edit of a character i ship you with. ➥ i may include some extra things in the graphic because i can't just be simple with things, so you can give me a small list of your favs, your vibes, your likes, and dislikes, if you so wish.

✩ FREE FOR ALL.

movie recovers...i'll make you a movie poster. ➥ this goes for tv shows + some artists + character posters as well.

book + movie recs...ask me to rec some things. ➥ 'your favorite movies' + 'movies you suggest people who like [insert something here] watch' + 'underrated shows' + 'books with this vibe' + 'songs that remind you of this character' are all requests that are applicable plus so so much more, please be as creative and detailed as you wish.

banners...request a banner for whatever you wish to use it for. ➥ these are not personal which means anyone can use them not just you. can be for navigations, masterlists, etc. gifs are not applicable.

headers...just like the above but for mobile headers. ➥ same rules apply as the above section. shows, movies + characters, vibes + aesthetics all applicable.

dividers...i'll make you a set of fancy dividers. ➥ again these are not personal and for everyone to use and enjoy.

magazine designs...i'll make a little magazine-esk outtake for a movie, show, or character.

personal favorites...ask me my favorite anything and i'll make a cute little something to showcase it.

♥︎ CHARACTERS, SHOWS, MOVIES, ACTORS APPLICABLE. ➥ actors + their characters: adam driver, pedro pascal, oscar isaac, jodie comer, will poulter, aaron taylor johnson, thomas doherty, tgm cast but no tc. ➥ movies: scream franchise, any spooky movie, john wick, twilight. ➥ shows: killing eve, hemlock grove. ➥ etc characters: finnick odair, bruce wayne (except affleck and bale).

this list is only for the gif requests so disregard it for everything else or use it as inspo for your requests if you want. also please note that the gifs will be posted on either three of my gif accounts.

here you can find my graphics board on pinterest of past graphics i have made over the years + some inspo if you need it for requesting.

#if you have any questions about anything just message me #i suck at explaining things and i feel like this is all over the place lmasdkojd #also if i made a spelling mistake anywhere it was on purpose ignore it #15k celebration <3

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anjaelle · 1 year ago

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White Light | Part IX

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Pairing: Ghost!Aaron Taylor-Johnson x Black!Reader Warnings: Purgatory, Darkness, Death, Creepy imagery Word Count: 1.7K Summary: No one can defy the natural cycle of birth, life, and death. Except...what if you really want to? A/N: Solo!Reader chapter but SUPER necessary as we go into the final part. Plus surprise new headers for this chapter and the final chapter. Yay!

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

You always had the belief that the liminal space between the afterlife and the living was paper thin. It had to be. How else could someone get trapped in the space between the two?

It felt like you were falling for an eternity.

Someone was holding you. As they were roughly pulled away, they called your name...you think. But they were too far away for you to register what it was.

You just wanted to sleep, but the darkness wouldn't let you. Voices echoed around you, whispering indecipherable words in languages you barely understood. They overlapped. Some were yelling, some laughing. You heard a sob, and a scream, and angry shouting.

Through it all, you heard the hoarse, shallow breathing of an unknown thing. You could feel its hot breath on the back of your neck, you smelled the unmistakable stench of decay and blood. You remembered the image of the thing with many sharp teeth, dripping black spit, and wide yellow eyes, staring at you from the corner of a room. Lying in wait. For what? You didn't know. But it grinned at you as it passed your vision and circled you curiously.

"Oh...oh...oh...It's you, little fox...fox...fox."

Little fox...little fox.

You're not supposed to be here, little fox.

She's not sssssupposed to be here...here...here

You tried to open your mouth to speak, but there was nothing to open. You floated through the dark without a body, without pain, without care. Just thoughts. You weren't afraid, though you felt like you should've been.

You wondered how the voices knew you.

"I've always known you, little fox...fox...fox. As I knew your mother, and her mother before her....her...her."

Am I dead? Is this the afterlife?

The overlapping whispers stopped at all once, replaced with deafening silence. The many-toothed thing laughed sharply. If you could see it properly, you're sure it would've thrown its grotesque head back in jest. And when you turned to follow the sound, it merely circled you again, dancing out of reach.

"My brave girl, you know exactly where you are."

You didn't even know your own name, let alone where you were and what you were supposed to do. The many-toothed thing tsked.

"I told the boy he could not have you. His soul was mine to take," the thing let out a low, tired sigh, "Oh, but he latched onto you, little fox. As stubborn as they come. You and your mother are quite similar."

There it was again. You struggled to think of your mother, but her face was just a vague image in your memory. As if by request, an image flashed of a woman who looked incredibly familiar, sitting on the floor of a house with the apparition of a woman sitting across from her. They held hands as the woman who was presumably your mother whispered over a candle.

"She tried desperately to save her." The thing whispered, sorrowfully, "But I warned her that saving a soul would always require a sacrifice."

She shifted, and it was then that you noticed that she was pregnant.

Was that you?

"Yessss," the thing answered, circling you again, "I told her that she could save her friend. But only if I could have you. And she chose you--as any mother would. But, oh, she was not happy to lose her. It was no surprise when she stopped answering me. But I've always...always loved her. And I've always known you."

The sincerity in the thing's voice caught you off guard. Small flashes of memory resurfaced of your mother shoving boxes in the back of the closet and covering mirrors. You thought she'd gone mad.

You felt a pang of familiarity in your chest.

"You can't save the boy."

The boy? You struggled to remember a face. A name. You could only remember the feeling.

"You...cannot...save him. Let him go."

Why?

"What's gone is gone and cannot be retrieved."

You didn't believe that. You felt something shift. Like the space around you was charged with electricity. You knew you didn't have a physical body here, but you could almost feel the vibrations in the air where your fingertips would be.

Is time linear here? How long have I been gone?

"You need to move on, little fox."

No. I'm not done. I'm not ready. I'm...I have to do something. I have to at least try.

The thing sighed, the scent of death wafted over you. You'd grown used to it.

Suddenly you were blinded by a bright white light, and the liminal space was a hallway with dozens of doors lined up on either side. You could hear the humming of voices, the slamming of the doors, the echoes of passing spirits.

You looked down and found your body in its rightful place. The bloom of blood drenched the side of your shirt, though you could no longer feel the pain of the wound. The memories of what happened slammed into you and you fell to your knees, gasping for breath like you'd been submerged underwater. And as you tried to regain your bearings, you tried to remember everything you'd been taught. Your grandmother told you about this once. She told you about walking in the space between, looking through the doors.

To think you believed for years that everything about your family's legacy was bullshit.

The many-toothed thing appeared beside you, floating in a shadow and causing the lights of the hall to flicker as it passed them. Its long, sharp fingernail pointed down the hall to a door.

"Go, little fox."

"Where does that door lead to?"

It didn't answer. It simply pointed before shrouding its face in the shadows once more.

You hesitated, unsure of where this was going to leave you. You didn't have a heartbeat anymore, but if you did, you're sure you would've heard it in your ears. Your hands shook. You broke out into a run, knowing walking would just prolong the inevitable.

As the door drew closer, the air shifted. It felt warmer. Brighter. You shoved the door open and began falling again.

Down...down...down. Through a bright white light, and the overlapping voices calling your name.

One familiar voice shouted for you, but before you could answer, you slammed into something hard and blacked out.

─ ·𖥸· ─

Your hearing was the first to return to you. Sort of. The ringing in your ears made your head pang, and you didn't even want to open your eyes. A low groan escaped your mouth. The wind was inevitably knocked out of you like you'd been hit by a truck. The strange, yet familiar humid cold in the air seeped into your skin and made you shiver, and you realized you weren't wearing a coat.

Why was it so cold?

"...Darling? Sweetheart? Are you alright?" The kind voice of an older woman pulled you into the present. You just wanted to lay down forever. Maybe take a nap. A few other voices joined in, asking if you were alright. Someone gently shook you.

You opened your eyes, squinting at the five faces floating into your field of vision. Unfamiliar, but concerned all the same. It suddenly struck you that they could see you. And touch you.

So you weren't dead?

As you worked to sit up, the older woman in a thick coat and nurse's scrubs gently held your back and guided you into the sitting position. She reminded you of your grandmother which gave you a strong level of comfort.

"There you go," she cooed softly, "easy now. That was a nasty fall, sweetheart. Are you alright? Do you need to go to the hospital?"

Her badge said New York Presbyterian, so you gathered she was just coming off of work. You felt a small pang of guilt for some unknown reason.

You cleared your throat.

"Yeah I'm fine, thank you." You struggled to get it out. Once it was confirmed that you weren't on the brink of death, the small crowd dispersed except for the woman who looked you over for signs of a concussion, no doubt. She took out a small light and checked your eyes.

"Do you know your name?" She asked. You told her, happy that you could remember it now.

"Do you know where you are?" You looked around, peering at the buildings in the north. The skyline looked...off. Different. You squinted, then turned to the south. You froze.

No...no no no.

Where the fuck was the Freedom Tower? Why was there a gaping hole in the skyline where a building should be? You felt your heart begin to race. The skyline wasn't right. It didn't look right.

"I-- we're in l-lower Manhattan. Right?"

"Good! Do you know the date?" You hesitated. How long were you gone? And how did you end up in the street? You looked down at your clothes and saw they were no longer bloody. What happened?

"Um...I don't...know." You admitted, sheepishly.

"Do you know the year, at least?" She coaxed in concern, a frown pulling at her mouth as she tucked one of her gray curls behind her ear.

"T-two...thousand..." You began. Your mouth couldn't even finish the sentence before she tutted and held your elbow.

"Okay let's get you to the hospital. You might be alright, but we wanna just make sure."

As you got to your feet, majorly disgusted by the fact that you had your head and hands on the nasty sidewalk, you grasped her hand.

"Can you please tell me what year it is?" You begged. The realization hit you in the chest at full speed.

"It's 2003, sweetheart." She answered, concern laced in her tone. "It's February 3rd, 2003."

So this was where the door led you.

You didn't want to believe it. You wanted to stifle the optimism growing in your chest, but you couldn't help the wide grin pulling at your lips. You probably looked like a crazy person.

A quick glance in a storefront window confirmed this. Your hair was a mess, you were wearing summer clothes in the winter, and you had a dazed look in your eye. But you were you. And you were HERE.

You had to find him. And FAST.