Fictional Character Tag Game

Fictional Character Tag Game

Thank you to the lovely @jay-avian for the tag (here)! I hope college gets a bit more bearable soon ❤️

1. Do this uquiz and this picrew

2. Three random facts about you

1. Recently my friends have taken to calling me The Reckoner

2. I’m really good at screaming bloody murder and I have become a local cryptid because I have done so in the middle of the night a lot (I am innocent) and I also tend to be good at making a variety of strange noises

3. I have a tendency for saving wild and injured birds, and it has happened so many times my family jokes I’m a “bird magnet”

3. Seven Comfort Movies

1. Spider-Man into the Spider-Verse

2. The Witch

3. Ten things I hate about you

4. How to lose a guy in ten days

5. The Other Woman

6. Legally Blonde

7. Criminal Minds (not a movie)

Bonus. Lilo and Stitch

Show me your true selves (if you feel like it) @oh-no-another-idea @imaginativemind29new @clairelsonao3

She kissed him with blood covered lips.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, love.”

He smiled, wolf sharp teeth against her mouth.

“Happy Valentine’s day.”

Behind them, the city bled.

When the zombie apocalypse started, you felt only a sense of sour humor. Like on those nights when you wished you could sleep and never wake up, some cosmic entity heard you, and was taking a kind of sick vengeance.

Your friends laughed and stole liquor out of locked cabinets and took shots in the name of doom.

You went home and turned the tv all the way up and locked every single door twice. It wasn’t enough.

Don’t approach someone if they appear sick, they said. Avoid them and dial 911.

After a week they disabled emergency service lines.

Stay indoors. Only go out when necessary. Keep your distance from one another, they said.

Online, people called it a hoax.

But that footage they showed on the news, people emptied out and filled with some creature that knew only hunger, that snarled and lunged for those around them without hesitation…something in you knew without doubt that it wasn’t fake.

The government gave blinding smiles and sent every army they had. They promised everything would be fine.

Nothing would ever be fine again.

Bullets did nothing. No matter how wounded, those humans that were empty and vicious dragged themself with bloody nails after anything that pumped blood. Those soldiers died and came back, killing their friends and family and comrades.

The government stopped going on tv.

With all your precautions, with every warning you gave your friends who didn’t give a shit anymore, who took this as a sign to give up, with every tip you got from the news, it didn’t save you in the end.

Thousands, millions were dying every day and you…

One week after the start zombie apocalypse, you saw a dog. A pitiful, sick dog that whined at you and gave you mournful eyes, and you froze.

And you stopped.

And you knelt down next to it because you with your fear and your kind heart wanted to be a vet.

Because you, with all of your precaution and all of those warnings forgot everything.

A week and a day after the zombie apocalypse started, you lost control of your own body. You were filled with something so hungry every bone in your body ached.

That’s fine, you thought. I’ll die soon anyways. The people on the news said the host always died. That there wasn’t anything left inside.

Two weeks after the zombie apocalypse starts you realize that the people on the news were wrong.

You start screaming. No one bothers to try and save you.

The creature inside of you has been dragging you across this wretched planet for a month, and you crave death with the same fervor that it craves flesh. The news people, your neighbors, your family, they flee from you.

They cannot hear you begging for them to burn every scrap of you alive.

You wish they would.

Two months after the start of the zombie apocalypse the creature inside of you has run out of things to eat. You are starving. Everything hurts. Your heart is giving out.

At some point, the creature inside you starts to consume your body.

You should be dead by now

It won’t let you die

It eats your vocal cords. Rips them apart with your fingers, tears out your tongue. Peels off your flesh.

The pain consumes every thought until your nerves fry.

You count it as a blessing.

You lose your eyes, your fingers, every piece of you soon after.

You cannot bring yourself to care.

A year after the zombie apocalypse starts, your body gives out. You lie on something that feels like asphalt. The remains of your muscles and tendons and joints and bones twitch as the creature pulls once, twice, again, but you do not move.

You feel it then, as it leaves you lying there. The utter cruelty of it as it leaves you lying on the ground, when it has been the only thing keeping you alive for eleven months.

You have been dying for over a year. You have been dead in your mind for far longer.

You regret every thought you ever had about the zombie apocalypse, about the notion of quick death and reanimation.

You regret the things you didn’t do. The things you did. You can feel your heart, finally, give out.

You wish you could see the sky one more time as you slip into the dark.

But you haven’t had your eyes for a long, long while.

And with one last breath, you die alone on an empty street, with only the uncaring creature that stripped you for parts and murdered you slowly to watch you go.

“Please,” she whispered. The villain paused.

A slow grin spread a cross their face.

“Begging so soon? Not very heroic.”

She laughed, and it hurt.

“Not heroic, no.”

The villain’s eyes narrowed, head tipping to the side as they regarded her.

Her eyes darted to the door, fear beginning to churn in her gut. Their face cleared as they followed her gaze, understanding writing itself on their skin.

“You’re afraid,” they observed. The villain stepped forward to where she knelt, knees digging into the ground. Their cool fingers wrapped around her chin and tipped her head up. “But not of me.”

She stilled, swallowing.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

The villain tutted, smile vicious and victorious and soft.

“Don’t lie to a liar.”

She closed her mouth.

The villain traced soothing circles along her jaw with their thumb. “You’re afraid your friends will get here in time,” they said softly. The hero made to jerk away, and the villain’s nails dug into her skin, eyes flashing in warning. “You’re afraid they’ll make it here in time to save you.”

Bitterly, tears rose in her eyes.

“Please,” her voice broke. The villain was silent.

They sighed.

“Up you get,” they tugged her up, wrapping an arm around her waist when she wobbled on numb knees. She closed her eyes.

She expected pain, the sharpness of finality, the crisp bite of death—but it wasn’t there.

When she opened her eyes, the villain was watching her.

Her gut sank.

“You aren’t going to kill me.”

The villain shrugged a shoulder.

“Oh, of course not. You want to die. What could be more torturous for you than leaving you alive?”

This time, the panic that curled in her gut was for the villain.

“Let me go then,” she said. The villain’s grip was stone on her waist.

“Mmm, I don’t think so. I won’t kill you,” they reminded. They tugged her against them so swiftly she didn’t feel it happen. Their lips pressed against her ear.

“No, love. I’m going to turn you into another me.”

She could feel their grin against her ear.

They vanished, taking her with them, before her friends could get there.

Six months later, she picked her friends off. One. By. One.

And the city burned.

The hero was getting blood all over the villains nice jacket.

“I’m sorry about the blood—“ they murmured, and the villain hushed them.

“We’re almost there. Just—just stay still, okay?”

If the hero didn’t know better, they’d say the villain almost sounded afraid.

“It’s okay. M’fine.”

The villain breathed a harsh laugh, cradling the hero to their chest as they walked.

“Yes, you certainly look fine bleeding everywhere.”

There was that tone again. The hero frowned. The villain had never used that tone, especially not with them, and they had no idea what it was—

They barged into the villains apartment, as the hero realized the villain was concerned.

Oh.

The villain set them down on a couch, gently, but the hero still flinched. The villain apologized, soft and gentle, and ran their hand over the wound, assessing the damage.

The villains face went carefully blank.

The hero’s head spun, just a little, and they closed their eyes to fight it off. A moment later, they opened them to find the villain wrapping their side.

Their eyebrows crinkled.

“You—when did you get those?” Their voice cracked.

The villain looked up at them.

“Just a minute ago. You passed out,” they said calmly.

Their fingers continued deftly wrapping the bandage on the hero’s side.

“Wait. Why are you,” the hero grit their teeth as the villain brushed against the wound. “Why are you helping me.”

The villain laughed.

“For someone so observant, you miss a lot of things.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

The villain shook their head.

“I knew you were a bit obtuse, but darling, really. Work with me.”

They tied off the bandages, helping the hero sit up against the arm of the couch. The villain held their gaze, cool and collected and concerned, all at once.

“Your powers stem from emotions, yes?”

The hero nodded, once.

“So positive emotions make you stronger. They can heal you, right?”

The hero had tried to keep that bit of information under wraps. Not only could they heal themselves if they were happy, they could heal anyone. They didn’t want to end up some tool to be used in some military stronghold. Still, they healed civilians when no one was looking.

If they were mad, though? They could destroy anything, tear concrete in half, send metal into dust.

The hero cleared their throat. “Yes. Positive emotions can heal me. Not feeling super happy right now, so I’ll get back to you on that—“

The villain sat back on their heels.

“Do you trust me?”

The hero blinked at them. They were ready to give them some bullshit answer about how they could never trust the villain and never would; but that wasn’t true. The villain had saved them, more times than they could count.

And between the agency and the villain? Well, the hero knew who they would choose.

“Yes,” they said hesitantly, and the villain kissed them.

Warmth flooded them, and they reached for the villain, tugging them closer, and the villain smiled against their mouth.

The wound on their side began to close, and the villain felt it. They smiled, pleased with themself, like a cat.

“I give you positive emotions, huh,” they said, still grinning.

“For someone so observant, you can be so obtuse—“ the villain kissed them, again, to get them to shut up. This time, the hero smiled.

The wound closed further.

“I didn’t know you liked me,” the hero murmured.”

“I tolerate you. I just happen to hate everyone else.”

The hero laughed, side twinging with pain.

The villain checked the half closed wound, then turned back to the hero.

“Kiss it better?”

The villain rolled their eyes.

This time, when the villain kissed them, the hero didn’t let them stop.

I promise I’m gonna do the requests/post more soon but I just ended finals week today (thank god) so I have had no time for anything other than studying and crying.

But now I have a month and a half of nothing so I’ll post a lot I promise, so any requests you guys have, send them, I’d love to write them. Tomorrow, though.

I need a nap.