#((even if they never play a part in her life again!))

[daphwritesworld]

Can I request a Leah x Alessia x Reader please???

Something to do with captain Leah because there's no way that wouldn't bleed over into their private life

a/n: yeah I'm super into this request, but I'm breaking it up into two parts. I'm getting delirious I'm so tired so I'll finish part two tomorrow. ohh and Chapter 1 of Be My Baby (my Leah Williamson x Athletic Trainer!Reader series) should be coming out tomorrow as well!! so stayed tuned haha. enjoy this for now. feedback is greatly appreciated, thank you and happy reading!!

Leah x Teammate!Reader x Alessia part 1/2

content: Top!Leah, Bottom!Reader, Switch!Alessia, strap on use (R receiving), pussy eating (Alessia receiving), nipple play, overstimulation, slight impact play,

warnings: HEAVY dom/sub themes, calling reader a slut/whore like once or twice, vibrating strap, Captain used in a sexual manner, slight intoxication while fucking but they're all consenting

synopsis: Captain Leah likes to take her roll off the pitch and into the bedroom.

word count: 2.0k

!! 18+ MINORS DNI !!

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The energy is still high inside the flat as you all three stumble in, hands gripping each other in a buzzed thrill. Leah talked both you and Alessia into leaving the club early– sneaking out into a taxi before the others even had time to notice you all gone. You’d shared some shots at the bar with the team, celebrating a new win with Leah back from her injury. She’d been touchy all night, running her hands over all the places she knows drives you crazy. The alcohol only fueled your desires as the two blondes sandwiched you between them on the dance floor. Their mouths on either side of your neck as their hands explored over the tiny dress covering your body.

Now you're making out in the entryway of your shared home, clothes being tugged off as you moan into their mouths. It’s a mess of tongues and you’re starting to get dizzy from them passing your mouth back and forth. You never get a chance to get a breath in, if one is gone the other is stealing the air from your lungs in a bruising kiss. It’s a vicious cycle that leaves your legs starting to shake, relying on the girls pressed against you to hold you up.

“Mmm– let’s move this to the bedroom,” Leah gets out between clashes of your mouths, Alessia panting as she watches the two of you consumed in each other.

You can’t find the words to speak, nodding your head into the liplock as you feel them leading you up the stairs. You don’t separate until you reach the door, Leah pushing you both away as you whine at the loss of her added warmth. She smiles at you both, a hidden danger underneath the sweet looking gaze. “Less go lay on the bed, baby. Back to the headboard.”

Alessia flushes a little, but compiles nonetheless. A quiet "Yes Cap," leaving her lips. It's so low you don't even hear it— but Leah does. Something so small but so significant that lights a fire in her veins. Alessia climbs up to the head of the bed before turning herself around, placing a pillow against the cold wooden surface behind her. She places her hands in her lap as she looks back up to see you two, awaiting further instructions. Leah grabs your forearm, pulling you against her chest as her lips linger on your earlobe. Her breath sends chill bumps across your skin at the closeness. “Now go lay between her thighs as I get ready. Ass up face down, darling.”

You find yourself nodding again, still not able to find words as your mind races. But as you go to move onto the bed you feel a hand pull you back. It wraps around your throat from the back, gripping the sides as a quiet moan is ripped from your lips. “Use your words, sweetheart.”

“Yes ma’am!” You let out a cry as her other hand comes down to land a spank onto your sensitive clit. Slick from your pussy connecting with her fingertips as a string forms between them. “Come on, love. You know that’s not my name. Yes, who?”

A matching whine can be heard coming from both you and Alessia at her words. So that’s the kind of mood she’s in tonight? It’s not often Leah likes to completely dominate you both, but when she does? Lord pray for the neighbors…

“Yes, Captain!”

You’re met with a pleased hum at that, her hands freeing you as they push you towards the bed. You bring your bottom lip between your teeth as you start crawling towards Alessia, grabbing onto her thighs as you lower yourself into position. You can hear Leah opening the closet, grabbing the box, and oh. That sounds…different. You avert your eyes up to Alessia to gauge her reaction. And oh god her mouth is hanging open. “I-Is that?” she starts to let out as her cheeks get even redder, but the older of the two cuts her off. “Don’t spoil the surprise, Less! That’s half the fun.”

Then you’re feeling the bed dipping behind you, a hand landing a slap to your ass before it runs down your back. Next thing you know it’s pushing down, forcing your arch deeper as her voice cracks out above you, “You can do it better than that, Y/N. Don’t play stupid with me tonight. I won’t be very nice if you do, love.”

Your pussy aches from the way she’s treating you– from the words coming out of her mouth to the way she man handles your ass up higher, presenting your pussy to her just the way she likes. You swear you get wetter as you feel her fingers run up into your hair, creating a makeshift ponytail as she yanks your face to Alessia’s pussy. “Now make her cum like the good little bitch I know you can be.”

Your mouth latches onto her cunt as you suck on her clit.You can feel Alessia’s hand come down and tangle with Leah’s into your hair, you look up and groan into her pussy at the sight. Alessia’s chest is rising up and down as her brows draw together in pleasure. Her mouth is dropped open as the prettiest sounds fall from her lips, enchanting you to keep your eyes locked on her.

You're so lost in the pleasure you're giving her you don't even notice Leah's hand moving from your hair or the way she's spreading your ass cheeks apart. You do notice the brand new strap entering you though. The burn of the stretch and the curved ridges running along it foreign to you. You moan into Alessia's cunt as Leah starts bottoming out in yours, a heavy hand coming down to land on your ass as she starts thrusting into you. "Fuck yourself back— there we go, darling. Just like that."

Your hips start pushing back into hers before she can even get the words fully out. Your pussy having a mind of it's own as you chase the new euphoric feeling she's giving you. You moan out every time you meet her thrusts, the tip of the strap slamming into your G-spot perfectly. You're so lost in the pleasure Leah's giving you that you forgot about your original task. Alessia's humping up into your face at this point, having come to terms with the fact you're too busy taking dick to do anything except moan into her pussy right now. Until you feel a familiar tight grip in your hair, knocking Alessia's hand away from head. She yanks you up until your back is flush against her front, breasts smushed to her back as she brings her lips against your ear.

"I thought I told you to make her cum? So fucking do it." She's shoving you back down now, her hand on the back of your head never leaving as she guides your face back to its rightful place. "Lessi baby, play with your tits for me. I'm sorry you've been neglected, my love," she picks up her pace again before she continues. "But you know how much of a whore she can be."

"Thank you, Captain!" it's moaned out of Alessia's mouth as she tweaks at her nipples, stomach starting to twist up as she gets closer to the edge. A chuckle falling from Leah's lips as she leans over your body, sending the strap impossibly deeper inside of you. Your face gets pushed flush against her groin as your nose buries into her clit. Leah uses one hand to steady herself on the bed while the other reaches for Alessia's neck pulling her into a heated kiss. You hear them making out above you, but you can't see it. Too busy fucking yourself onto Leah's dick as your eyes roll into the back of your head. Your tongue's fucking into Less's hole now, drunk off the cream that leaks out of her. You start grinding your nose forward a bit, giving her clit some added stimulation as you bring one of your hands up to join the party. A finger slips in beside your tongue, curling it as you make a come hither motion. Alessia's hips start spasming against your face as you hear her muffled sounds of pleasure, her pussy squeezing around you to signal her end nearing.

"Can I cum, Cap?" it's said between kisses, Leah barely giving her a second to pull back to get the words out. She separates herself for a second as she slows her pace, kissing Less on the nose before she gives her an answer, "Yeah, go ahead, love. Make a mess on our baby's face so you can clean it up."

She doesn't waste a second, moans tumbling from her mouth and a tightening grip on your hair telling you all you need to know. You moan into her pussy, the added vibrations making a cracked whine break out of her. Her hips start bucking up into your face, riding the pleasure as she keeps you cemented into place. You suck up all the cum she gives you, not letting a drop escape as you lick her pussy clean. The hand holding you in place quickly turns to push you away and give her a much needed break, but you ignore it. Tongue still pumping into her overstimulated hole as your finger comes out to rub at her clit.

You quickly come to regret that decision when Leah's pulling out of you and yanking you down the bed with her. A squeal of surprise comes out of you at the action. She doesn't stop until her feet are touching the hardwood floor and your knees are dangle off the edge of the bed. She flips you over effortlessly, a show of her strength as she asserts her dominance.

"You know what my problem with you is? You can never listen too long, can you? Always gotta break the rules or push the boundaries for your own gain. It's fucking selfish," she throws your legs over her shoulders as she settles in closer between your legs. "So now you're gonna let me use this pussy however I want, for as long as I want."

She slips in at that, bottoming out instantly as she slams her hips into yours. She pauses as she brings a hand down to the base, a darkening laugh leaving her lips as she locks eyes with Alessia. "You wanna do the honors, baby?" Your brows furrow in confusion as your eyes try and see what she's covering. You start leaning up on your elbows to get a new angle before Leah's pushing you back down, a hand on the middle of your chest as she growls out at you. "Be patient!"

Alessia is at the edge of the bed now, leaning over your body as she reaches for the harness. They share a passionate kiss, Leah telling her to go get the hitachi wand after she's done helping. Alessia nods before stealing one more kiss, pressing in the button before disappearing to the closet. Your back arches immediately as you feel the strap inside you come to life with vibrations.

She's setting a rough pace from the start this time, skin slapping filling up the space of the room. There's no adjusting period this time around— oh no. Leah's fucking you with a purpose now, to remind you of your place…withering underneath her. Alessia never gets her this riled up. Always following orders and doing as she's told. But you? You always fight her, talk back, or straight up ignore what she does tell you.You like to tell yourself it's because you're independent…but you all three know it's really because you crave this. To see the pinch between her brow and hear the octaves in her voice get lower. You crave to have her pick you up and hold you down as she reminds you of who she is: your Captain.

[shslbunnylover]

Hi honey. How about a Wanda fic where R comes back after a long mission and since Wanda got so used to not having R around she's kinda ignoring her. Angst with a happy ending

★ ★ ★ Time Goes By ★ ★ ★

Character: Wanda Maximoff

Summary: When you finally return home after a month-long mission, you realize your girlfriend has started to get used to life without you

Taglist: @inlovewithgreta @lilfartbox1

Trigger Warnings: Mentions of NSFW, some crying, mentions of abandonment and anxiety,

Genre: Hurt/Comfort

Author's Note: Sorry for the delay!! Thank you for the request <3

Word Count: 3.63k

Being an avenger wasn't easy, not in the least. There was the constant threat of death, the looming amounts of paparazzi just *begging* to get an interview with their favorite superhero, and your personal least favorite, being away from your loved ones.

You absolutely adored your girlfriend Wanda, a fellow avenger, and when you found out you wouldn't get to see her for at least a month, you were heartbroken to be ripped away from the woman you cherished dearly just in the name of protecting some city on a whole other continent.

Wanda was equally as heartbroken, but she understood, having been a part of the avengers longer than you meant she had plenty of experience when it came to long missions that meant staying in a whole new environment.

“I know baby, I know, but you'll be okay! I'll try and text you everyday to wish you goodnight, and I'll try and text you every morning to wake you up,” She promised you, holding you in her arms.

“I know- But it's in Europe, it'll be a whole other timezone!” You cried.

“We'll make it work Dekta, we'll make it work,”

You were nothing short of a baby for the rest of the week before you left, never wanting to leave your loving girlfriend's side no matter what she did.

But the night before you left, you were held in her arms from the moment you and her got home from work, her manicured nails scratching at your scalp as the two of you watched your favorite sitcom together.

You knew she liked to hold you tightly while watching your favorite sitcoms due to her trauma, as if she was afraid to let you go in fear of that horrid day happening again.

She held you tightly because she knew that's the way her parents died, cuddled up on the couch. She wasn't losing another person in her life, and if another bomb hit your apartment, she wanted to die with you in her arms and her in yours.

She tried to get rid of the thoughts that made her behave this way for years, but subconsciously the redhead would forever cling to you when you watched these sitcoms, as it brought her comfort she wasn't even aware of receiving.

As Malcolm in the Middle played on the TV, you looked up at her, her green eyes sparkling as she watched the TV.

God she's beautiful.

“Wands…?” You murmured.

“Yes Dekta?” Wanda looked down at you, pressing a kiss to your forehead as her hands pulled you even closer to her.

“You're not gonna forget about me, right? When I come back everything will be back to normal?” You asked, a tear welling up in your eye at the mere thought of losing her because you were gone for too long.

Wanda grabbed the remote, pausing the TV before pulling you fully onto her lap, allowing for you to bury your head in the crook of your neck.

“Oh moya lyubov, I will never forget you,” Wanda frowned, kissing your lips softly as she looked at you, her eyes genuine as she pulled you out from her neck.

“I know, but I…” You trailed off, biting your lip as you shrugged.

“I know,” She nodded. “I won't forget you,”

You looked up at her with eyes that were glazed over with tears, and you attempted to hold them back, but a few finally escaped.

A shaky breath left your lips, and you wiped the droplets out from under your eyelids.

“You better not,” You mumbled.

Wanda looked at you, kissing your lips gently.

“I wouldn't even dream of it,”

You sniffled, holding onto Wanda for the rest of the night until you eventually fell asleep.

She carried you up to your shared bedroom after she had finished another two episodes of the sitcom, tucking you and herself under the covers of your bed.

“Wanda…” You slurred in your drowsy state. “I don't wanna go…”

Wanda sighed, her eyes falling to your sleeping form in sadness.

“I know moya lyubov, I know, I don't want you to leave either,” The redhead ran her fingers through your hair, twirling some of your locks around her pointer finger.

You didn't respond, falling back into your unconsciousness, leaving Wanda to hold you in her arms.

“Ya tebya lyublyu,” She murmured into your hair, shutting her eyes to join you in your sleep.

When she had awoken the next morning, she immediately noticed the lack of warmth in her arms.

She made her way to the kitchen, seeing the plate of pancakes you had made for her before your departure to your station in Europe.

The redheaded witch sat down at the table, quickly cutting up the pancakes so they didn't get cold.

The pancakes you made were delicious, and once she finished, she leaned back, grabbing a napkin to wipe her face.

She slid it across the bottom half of her face, pausing as she felt something a bit sticky being wiped across her cheek.

Her hands pulled the napkin back, and her eyes softened as she saw the clear shimmer of your lipgloss on the napkin.

She frowned, an exhale of something in between loneliness and sadness leaving her.

This was going to be a long month without you.

The days dragged on slower than either of you had wanted or even anticipated, your separation by the fault of physical distance causing you both to crave each other's voice and touch.

The mission itself wasn't much better either, you were mainly just put as a security guard at your post. You didn't even understand why you were here. You hadn't done anything that required any true effort like disabling any sort of terrorist from the gang you were sent out here to help catch.

‘God I can't wait to go home,’ You thought to yourself, leaning against the wall as you held the polaroid you always carried around with you in your hands.

The picture was one that you and Wanda had taken at some amusement park you had passed by on a walk and decided to try out, and on your way home after your time there you took a picture with your girlfriend on the machine provided.

She was kissing your cheek, and you were too busy laughing to notice that the picture had been taken, catching you two in your most genuine moment.

You smiled at the polaroid, putting it back in your wallet before tucking it in your bra so no one could take it without you knowing.

After the weeks of your mission had passed by, you woke up on the day you were to head to the airport with a smile on your face. After what had felt like ages without your loving girlfriend, you were ready to go home and see her more than anything.

You checked your phone, shrugging at the lack of any messages on your home screen. Wanda was 5 hours behind you back in New York, and you were used at this point to not being able to talk or call at all for days on end, but that's why you were so excited to go back home.

You loaded up your suitcases, fixing up the free hotel room provided for you in exchange for your service and work in the country.

Getting on the airplane, you sent a message to your girlfriend before turning your phone on airplane mode.

‘I’m heading home Wands, come and get me soon ❤️’

When Wanda saw that as she woke up, she smiled softly, excited to see her love for the first time in weeks.

She slowly pulled herself out of bed, sliding on a black blazer and khaki pants with a white button up shirt underneath.

She grabbed her keys, walking out of the apartment to her car.

You had landed about 30 minutes prior to Wanda getting out of bed and leaving to pick you up, but thanks to TSA regulations, you were delayed from walking to the pickup area of the airport for around another 45 minutes, giving the green-eyed woman plenty of time to arrive.

Once your luggage had been checked by the private agents assigned to avengers flying to their destination, who somehow looked more serious than the actual avengers themselves (Thanks Tony, you make the avengers look very professional), you finally walked to the front of the airport.

Your eyes scanned over the sea of people that were in the building, but they finally paused when they found the familiar sight of your girlfriend's fiery red hair.

“Wanda!” You beamed, almost running over to the older woman with your luggage in your hands.

When she heard your voice, Wanda turned in the direction she saw you coming in.

“Y/N!” She ran up and hugged you. “Oh moya lyubov, I'm so happy you got home safe!”

“I'm so happy to see you my dear,” You hugged her back tightly, your hands finding their way to her cheeks before you kissed her softly.

Wanda kissed you back, her eyes filling with tears.

“I'm so happy to see you too, any longer without you and I wouldn't have been able to handle it,” She separated her mouth from yours, darting her tongue over her lips as if attempting to savor the taste of you, as if she'd never taste you again.

The way she held you in her arms made you feel like you were on top of the world and nothing could go wrong.

But that would all change by morning.

When you woke up after a long night where Wanda couldn't keep her hands off of you and you couldn't keep yourself off of her, you noticed that there was no warmth on your back and around your waist.

“Wands…?” You slurred awake, sitting up and noticing that she had already woken up and gotten out of bed.

You checked the bed, assuming you must have slept in and Wanda had already given you her morning cuddles, but you saw that it was 7:30, the time her alarm usually went off.

Wanda would usually spend 10 minutes cuddling you and stroking your hair in the mornings, waking herself up and usually leaving you with a kiss on your cheek which would then wake you up.

You frowned, but attempted to shake the feeling of abandonment out of your head.

“Maybe she's making breakfast?” You asked yourself, standing up and throwing a robe over your body.

You walked over to the kitchen, not seeing your girlfriend or smelling anything that she might have made.

“Wanda?” You looked around.

No response.

You began to panic, walking to the living room where you saw your girlfriend reading a book while listening to Malcolm in the Middle in the background.

You frowned, calling out for her.

“Wanda?” You repeated.

Finally, she turned around, tilting her head.

“Yes Dekta?” She asked.

You couldn't spit what you wanted to say out, and you just fiddled with your fingers.

“Good morning…” You stuttered out.

Wanda just nodded at you before turning her head back to her book and listening to the sitcom you two were supposed to watch *together*.

You felt a surge of anger and sadness being sent up your spine. Why had Wanda been so loving the night before, but now treated you as if you weren't even there? Had she actually forgotten about you?

You walked back to the kitchen, pulling out a bowl and pouring some cereal into it (and then added milk if that's what you like).

“Maybe she's just tired Y/N,” You mumbled to yourself. “Last night was a lot…but…she never acts like this, even after nights like that,”

You dug your spoon into your fruity pebbles, sighing as you just spun the cereal around the white bowl with the metal utensil.

You tried to get some of the not-so-kind thoughts out of your head, and you frowned even deeper as you lifted your spoon to your mouth, swallowing the cereal before putting the spoon back down into the bowl.

You sniffled, putting your head in your hands.

You weren't sure *why* this was affecting you so much, but it was, and that's what mattered right now.

Standing up, you brought the bowl of cereal to the living room, sitting next to Wanda and leaning your head on her shoulder jokingly.

“Wandss…” You kept eating your cereal, hoping to get her attention somehow.

“Hmm?” She didn't even look up from her book.

“Did I do something?” You asked, sitting up now, continuing to eat your cereal.

“Hm? Oh no Dekta, you didn't,” The green-eyed woman slid her finger tip across her tongue before she flipped the page, tilting her head to the left so she could read better.

You frowned, beginning to get ticked off.

“Are you sure?”

Wanda still refused to look up from the words on the page, actually not hearing you, or at least choosing not to.

You scoffed, standing up once you and finished the cereal before putting it in the sink.

You returned to your shared bedroom, and you pulled out your computer, deciding to play a video game to calm your…well you weren't sure what you were feeling. There was a lot of anger, confusion, and definitely a lot of sadness in there as well. The inability to put an exact word on what you were feeling along with the inability to distinguish what was going on definitely had you anxious as well.

After about an hour or two passed, you closed out of the video game, putting your computer on your desk before deciding to clean up a bit.

With everything that was going on with Wanda and her attitude towards you, combined with the remaining anxiety still bubbling over from the mission, you were doing everything you could to keep your mind distracted. You felt that even though the mission was over, you still were nervous about it and whether you did good or not. It seemed like that if Wanda kept up the isolating behavior, you would tip over the edge of a breakdown. You didn't want to tell her about the leftover anxiety last night, because you didn't really need to. You were distracted and with the person that stood as your comfort.

But now with that stability gone, you knew that it was only a matter of time before you lost your happy front.

The room was clean and laundry was fully down in a matter of 4 hours, and you only noticed just how much time had passed when you started to smell her making lunch.

Your eyes lit up, and you pushed the laundry basket underneath the machine before running down the stairs, freezing when you saw your girlfriend eating all by herself.

“Wands, I didn't know you were making lunch…!” You said awkwardly, walking over to the table.

Wanda licked her lips awkwardly, and she bit her lip before putting her fork down.

“Oh um…I'm sorry Dekta, I only made one plate,” She said awkwardly.

“Oh…” You trailed off.

“You can still sit with me if you want, I'm not going to stop you,” The green-eyed witch lifted her fork to her mouth.

You sighed a bit under your breath.

“Alright,” You sat across from her, attempting to make conversation, but only being left with a nod or just complete silence.

The rest of the week wasn't much better, as Wanda had continued this same behavior.

She would make breakfast, lunch and even dinner all for herself. She wouldn't cuddle you in the morning, and she wouldn't even include you in her activities like she always used to before you left.

It was another one of those times where she had left you home by yourself with your dog, Sparky, who sat comfortably in your lap as you stroked his hair.

“You think Wanda still loves me, Sparky?” You asked the fluffy dog who laid there curled up on your thighs as you played another video game, this one being the game you had been trying to teach Wanda how to play so you could play together.

The dog simply licked your leg, his wet slobbery tongue grazing across your skin causing a small smile to break through onto your lips.

“Arf!”

You laughed, scratching the Jack Russell terrier behind his ears.

“You're such a good boy, aren't you?” You chuckled, laughing more as Sparky twirled around in your lap, chasing after his tail.

You put down the controller after you had paused the game, and you hoisted Sparky up to hold him up in your arms.

“I love her so much, and she seemed so happy to see me when I got home, why has everything changed? She promised that nothing would…” You vented to the creature in your arms, your fingers caressing Sparky’s fur from the top of his head down to his tail.

You waited for a few moments, as if giving Sparky the floor to talk, even though he obviously couldn't.

“Yeah, I know I was gone for a whole month, but she promised me everything would still be the same when I came home. I know it was hard for her, but it was for me too,” You turned around, leaning against the armrest of the couch.

Once again you let the dog give his imaginary input.

“I've just been feeling so ignored, like she got used to life without me. She even started watching our show by herself, and she forgets that I'm even there sometimes!” You sniffled, beginning to tear up from all of the emotions washing over you.

The anxiety of the mission, the coldness and complete lack of your existence being acknowledged from your lover, and the adjustments you were still trying to get used to had all begun to finally take their toll on you.

But just as you began to cry your heart out for the first time in months, you heard the front door in front of the living room creek.

You shot your head in the direction of the sounds, and you were shocked to see your girlfriend back so soon.

“W-Wands-? How long have you been there?” You stuttered, sitting up and placing Sparky on the floor so he could run off and resign from his position as your therapist.

“About 5 minutes…” Your girlfriend admitted.

You wiped your eyes, standing up.

“So…so you heard all of that…didn't you?” Your voice wavered.

Wanda nodded, her beautiful green eyes flooding with tears.

“I'm so sorry Dekta, I didn't mean to make you feel so left out…” Her manicured hands, still having chips of the red nail polish you put on them before you left for that God awful mission, lifted up to cup your face.

You let out a small cry at the touch. It felt so alien yet so…so comforting and familiar.

“Oh, oh Dekta, come here,” Wanda pulled you into a tight hug, massaging your scalp with her fingers. “I'm so sorry my love. The month had been so long without you, and I just…I got used to you not being around. But it wasn't a good feeling, it felt so lonely,” She explained with tears pouring out of her green orbs.

“I know, I just- I felt like you forgot about me just like I was worried about,” You cried.

“Oh no baby…I couldn't ever forget you, I just got so used to having you around, and I still felt so miserable from going so long without you in my arms,” Wanda cooed, sitting you down on her lap as she sat on a chair.

You wrapped your arms around her waist like the needy thing you were, and she held you until you both stopped crying (although you cried for much longer than she did).

“I…” Wanda began, biting her lip, looking down at the floor.

You tilted her head up, sniffling.

“Go on,”

She took a deep breath, exhaling softly as you wiped her cheeks free of her tears.

“I've lost so many people in my life…and I've had to become accustomed quickly to them not being there anymore. I was terrified of losing you, and I had already accepted the fact that I would. So when you came home…I tried to knock myself out of the mindset that you weren't here and with me anymore. But no matter what I did, it didn't work until I saw you crying here with Sparky,” The love of your life explained, her hands gripping onto you with a shaky grasp the more she talked. “It’s not an excuse but I-”

You cut her off with a deep kiss, sliding your tongue around here as your hands grasped onto hers as they remained on your hips.

The kiss lasted for about a minute, and Wanda looked at you with wide eyes as the two of you finally pulled apart for air.

“Y/N…” She panted, her digits loosening her grip on your soft skin.

“I forgive you Wanda…” You blurted.

The witch's eyes lit up in a mix of relief and joy.

“You do?”

You nodded.

“I do,”

Her perfect smile returned to her ever perfect face, and it only made you smile back.

“I love you, Y/N,” Wanda looked at you with pure adoration. “More than life itself,”

You chuckled at how soft and sappy she was.

“I love you too, Wanda,”

She pulled you back into her embrace, and the longer she held you, the time that went by without you dissipated from her memory.

If you enjoyed reading this, don't forget to like, reblog and comment! Thank you and you are loved <3

-Akira

[zvezdacito]

Diasomnia sexuality (and some gender) headcanons I just wanted to yap about for no reason:

Malleus: Demiromantic Bisexual

-> There's that joke that he doesn't gaf about gender as long as it's Yuu, but (for the demiromantic part) I also like the idea that he's ride-or-die, sentimental and clingy for anyone he gets close to. So generally the only difference for how he cares about people is the type of attraction + specific boundaries (can be slightly possessive in a different way for a romantic interest? Idk)

-> Also not really sexuality but I see his gender as that "I'm probably nonbinary but I have a job so idrc about that rn" tweet but for being the next king In general I think being acespec & nonbinary would be extra perplexing for bro since he never stopped to think about personal identity stuff like that for too long (too duty-pilled🥀)

-> Being dense about regular emotional experiences + actual difference in the norms of attraction and gender add to the gap of understanding between him and others

Lilia: Bisexual (not really a sexuality but he's also polyamorous)

-> This isn't sexuality again but I also think transfeminine Lilia is cool, I genuinely believed that Lilia was just a woman with a really deep voice the first time I saw him (I was watching him vs Leona in Book 2 out of context). There's no way to easily explain this in English but by this the specific identity i see him as is basically 'bakla' in the Philippines. It is really its own gender identity in our culture and isn't a "direct equivalent" of any one anglophone label, but for the sake of non-filipinos i guess you can just understand this to mean i see Lilia as "nonbinary transfem in the Filipino way"👍

-> I think it would align with his story in a good way with how she's maligned by the senate and such, how even as a soldier Lilia was coloring her hair for style. It's also like that thing where a guy who was already considered obviously effeminate and "one of the girls" atp (I see Meleanor as kids playing with Lilia in typically "girly" ways and encouraging his cuteness/hair styling) comes out later on as actually a girl/fem nonbinary

-> General Lilia is this is that type of situation where a transfem person can't really go all out with their expression because current life-threatening circumstances require "masculinity" or their focus to be exclusively on external matters (in this case its Lilia being a lowly bat soldier in an active war. Similar to Malleus, an idea of patriotic obligation stops him from really questioning or exploring since the country needs "strength" and "unity" in these times, there was also just really little time to wonder when you're fighting for your life everyday). But after retiring Lilia is able to realize she likes being perceived as cute and begins going all out in her appearance👍

Lilia edit with the article this headcanon reminds me of:

Silver: Aroace

-> Thought it would be a kind of cool subversion of the usual fairytale prince archetype Silver is made to emulate, where romance is the greatest and purest love and marriage is THE happy end. I think it aligns with Silver wanting to spend his life "repaying" the kindness of Malleus and Lilia; if they asked him to think about gertting a family of his own in the future, I think he'd just say the true love he's found in life is already them. A knight who dedicates his lifetime devotion to familial love instead

Sebek: Gaylm

-> One of bro's most notable character gags is glazing another man at every opportunity so yeah /j. Also fsr I just can't see him as a man romantically with a woman no matter what lol

(THIS ISN'T OBJECTIVE THOUGH this is just how I personally sense his vibes. Go crazy fellow fem yumes and OC artists. You are the pillars of this earth)

⚠️ My only disclaimer is that I am cisgender so the gender headcanons are only me relating the characters to scholarly articles on transfem experiences/from personal accounts of transfem and nonbinary people online and irl.

Another reminder that these are all headcanons made by viewing canon in a specific way, not me saying they're definitively any of these identities. You can still have cis or male malleus and lilia if you prefer that😭

That is all. Thank you for reading👊🔥

[kingpreussen]

Irina was the first person Peter met on the outside who smiled at him.

New York wasn't a very "smiling at strangers" city. In fact, someone who smiled that brightly and warmly at you was probably moments from pulling a box cutter and slashing your face and was therefore to be avoided. But Irina, holding a baby on her hip and watching a small child tumble around with other kids on the playground, turned and beamed at Peter as he passed on 8th street and he felt the slightest bit more welcome in the city he had lived in his entire life.

"It's different, than I remember," Peter said at Irina's kitchen table, watching her eldest son Alex show the baby, Dima, how to play Mario on his handheld console.

Despite the narrow halls and dilapidated nature of their Section 8 apartment, Irina made the place her own. Peter felt like he had walked into 19th century Russia, or the tea room downtown that closed even before Peter was locked up. All heavy velvet drapery and overhead chandeliers and busily patterned upholstered wooden furniture, the red wallpaper in the living room as mesmerizing as it was headache inducing, paintings in round frames of old Russian writers and intellectuals.

Here are there were more modern touches. A nice sized television with another console on the stand underneath was mounted on the only white wall in the entire home, that Peter had seen. The kitchen was less drastically changed, with an electric stove and real tile on the floor.

Peter didn't know where someone like Irina, a single mother with two children, got the money to decorate her home this way. He also knew it wasn't his place to ask. Suspicion over other people's source of money is what got his Uncle killed after all.

Peter was thankfully knocked from his maudlin thoughts when Irina placed a bowl of matzo ball soup in front of him. He looked up--Alex and Dima were already served, the former with a sandwich and chips and the latter some green and orange baby food.

"What's different?" she asked, her voice heavily accented and stern. Peter was reminded of the time he spent in Brighton, summer days wiled away on the beach followed by stuffing his face with Russian pastries before the trip home.

"Alphabet City. New York, in general."

Peter picked up his spoon and cut off a small part of one of two matzo balls, soft and full of dill. The soup itself looked like homemade chicken noodle--not the way his Aunt prepared it, but the Jewish diaspora in the city spanned multiple continents. He was grateful all the same.

Irina tucked a strand of blonde hair that escaped the bun on top of her head behind her ear. "Six years, you said?"

"Almost. Basically."

"The city has not changed as much as you think." She smiled at him again before returning to the kitchen. "New phones, new technologies, but the people are the same," she called back.

Peter ate slowly so he didn't get sick. The soup melted in his mouth, filling him with warm memories of home. He tried not to get sick on those either.

"Manhattan is the same. My block is the same," Irina said, sitting next to Peter at the final chair around the table and placing a cup of dark tea behind his soup bowl. She had one of her own, a small spoon inside of the cup and the tea pale with milk.

"It feels... off."

"I think it is you that's different," Irina said. "You have become a man. You see things differently now."

Peter glanced over at her, watching the way her green eyes sparkled with mischief. Peter got put away too early to truly be a ladies man but he could see himself sweeping her off her feet, if even for one night. If he wasn't homeless and destitute and depressed. He looked back down at his soup.

"Not to be rude," Peter began to ask, and then his eyes flicked over to Alex and Dima. "Never mind," he said, taking another spoonful of hot soup into his mouth.

"You were going to ask about my husband, weren't you?" Irina asked. Her smile wasn't as beaming now, but it was still there, playing around the edges of her pink lips. "You don't need to worry, I did not lose him in a way that... ah, lost me money? Financial risk?"

Peter nodded. Alex was playing on his handheld again, sandwich half eaten and chips gone, and Dima made a perfect baby mess all over himself with his food but he was laughing and cooing to himself.

"What happened?" Peter blurted out, before his brain caught up with him. "Sorry, I just--"

Irina shook her head and pursed her lips. She took a sip of tea, set the cup back on its saucer, and said, "He was not kind to me. To our sons. And there is someone in this building who was able to get help for me."

Her gaze pierced him, pale eyebrows lowered, head bent slightly forward. "There is a man who helps people like me. I was sure he would charge me more than I could spare but he... didn't. My husband was gone. And later, I found money under a coat that was draped over a chair." She didn't look at all close to tears but her voice was low, amazed. "More money than I had seen at once. He left no way for me to contact him, to thank him."

Peter listened to her story with wide eyes. The mercenaries and guns for hire he had heard about in prison were ruthless, and expensive. Whatever whisper network this guy had set up for saving battered wives and little children fell more into the Robin Hood category of violence.

"That's... I'm glad, Irina. That you had someone looking out for you."

Irina nodded. "Yes. I am glad as well." She finished her tea and stood again. "Finish your soup and shower, if you'd like. I am sure what is left of my husband's clothes will fit you."

"Thank you," he said to her retreating back.

When he left the apartment, Alex hugged him around his leg and Dima grabbed his hair. Irina just continued to smile.

Maybe there would be other people as kind and generous as her, but Peter didn't want to rely on charity for the rest of his life. And while Irina was right, that the city hadn't changed and he was just seeing it with new eyes, he still felt off kilter and out of place. He didn't want to go back to Forest Hills, to crawl into his Aunt's home and beg forgiveness and pretend like he could return to the life he had before.

Soon after he parted ways with Irina he found himself shelter in the ever-present construction on the north end of the East River greenway. The public bathrooms at that park were open from 8 am to 4 pm every day, so he could keep at least marginally clean. The East Village was out of the way enough for him to keep a low profile without running off to Long Island with his tail between his legs.

Wary of scaring the hipsters into calling the police on him, Peter didn't travel further west than Avenue D when he could help it. He tried his luck finding work at the Jobs Plus on the edge of his boundary but that was a dead end. Peter couldn't blame them; the city required him to have a permanent address to be placed with a job coordinator, but Peter needed money to get a permanent address, which meant he needed a job.

The intake person at the desk was sympathetic to his ranting, probably because he kept his hands to himself and didn't raise his voice. When he was done, she gave him a pamphlet of directions to shelters and food banks for the homeless in the area. Peter went to some of the soup kitchens when his hunger got too bad, but he didn't like taking food out of the mouths of others. People that were in more need than him.

Although he didn't see Irina again, nervous about skirting the rules that didn't allow visits by non-residents for longer than eight hours and sure she would offer him a warm night's stay, he was treated kindly by other families in Section 8 housing. He'd receive food and clothing from them sometimes, people who couldn't have been making enough money to even support themselves.

Two months passed this way, the city transitioning from an unusually warm fall into a rainy winter. Two months that could have been a lot more painful than they were, given his circumstances.

After days without human contact, curled up under a metal sheet supported by a scaffolding frame, Peter decided it was time for another walk to the soup kitchen. It was only open from 11 am to 1 pm on certain days, and Peter didn't exactly have a calendar on him, so he had to assume by the laws of probability that it was a weekday.

Moving around in the daylight was an effort that he didn't like to exert until his hunger became painful. He didn't look like himself anymore--hair long and unkempt, beard and mustache wild and covering the lower half of his face. He kept himself covered with an overlarge hoodie from Irina's closet, partly because of the cold and partly because he didn't want to see his own emaciated body.

When he wore it out of Irina's place it had fit fine, maybe even a little snug.

The only thing that remained of the old Peter, of his former life, were his Uncle's glasses that were thankfully returned to him by the COs when he was released. One of the lenses had been lost somewhere on his journey from Ossining back into the city, but he didn't need them to see anyway. He had popped the other lens out so he didn't give himself a headache while wearing them.

After the sun had risen enough that Peter could assume it was mid-morning, he carefully bundled the tarp and blanket he was using to sleep and hid them under some more metal sheeting. He stood carefully, unsure if he had pulled anything by sleeping wrong, and then walked down to the public bathroom.

The door to the men's room was open, thankfully, which meant it was after 8 am. Peter didn't like to loiter around the soup kitchen too much, afraid of making the women and children and normal people too nervous to eat, so after he used the toilet and washed his hands and face he walked to the Section 8 building at the corner of 6th and the FDR where he knew he could see a clock through the front doors at the right angle.

It was 11:15. Perfect. And there didn't seem to be many people inside the community center that he passed, so it must be a work day.

Peter stood on the corner of 6th and D for a few minutes. His hands shook in the front pocket of his hoodie. Once he passed this boundary he would truly be in the city, he would be seen. He waited for the next light cycle to pass and then at the white walking man signal he finally crossed the avenue.

After the initial hurdle, Peter felt more confident about walking to Trinity's Food for the Homeless. He kept his head down when he entered and said please and thank you to everyone he interacted with, receiving a plate of mashed potatoes and gravy and vegetables and real fucking steak that threatened to make his fangs drop. He consciously resisted, but sat at the back of the hall facing away from the hot food line just in case.

He was still hungry afterwards, to be sure. He stood and threw his plate away when he was done, saying more thank yous to the volunteers, and slipped out the door as quickly as he entered. It would be enough for now, giving him just enough energy to continue to look for work.

Peter returned to his shelter with the day's local newspaper and scoured the classifieds for anything that would take him as dirty and felonious as he was. He mentally marked a few to call the next time he was able to use the public phone at the library. Then he read the rest of the paper cover to cover.

Besides the hunger, and the loneliness, the thing Peter hated most about being homeless was the boredom. He couldn't exactly take a jaunt around the park or visit a museum or see a show. Even free events were off limits to someone looking--and probably smelling--like him.

On some days reading could get him through it, and on others he felt restless, moments from gnawing on his own arms like a trapped animal. Today was one of the bad days.

Peter got up and took probably his last chance to use the bathroom of the day before starting a trek along the FDR downtown to the Williamsburg Bridge. Wasting energy on moving probably wasn't a great idea when you were starving, but when had Peter Parker ever had a good idea?

The walk was 30 minutes on a good day. Peter moved slower than usual, shivering, head pounding. The air around him was cold but when he kept moving he could usually stay warm enough to function.

By the time he returned to the city, the sky had gone dark--it had taken him much longer than an hour to cross to Brooklyn and back. Darkness was good for cover and very bad for thermoregulation. If Peter didn't get back to his shelter soon there was a good chance he'd pass out on the sidewalk somewhere and be woken up the next morning by the cops.

Not having any identification on him was a blessing and a curse, when it came to pigs--they couldn't find out he was already a felon and torture him for it, but they also knew he was a vagrant and not some drunk who had a hard night.

Peter was minutes from reaching his shelter, crossing Houston at a snail's pace, when he heard an argument on 3rd. It didn't sound like a normal domestic disagreement, this was frantic and angry.

"Fuck off!" a woman shouted, and then a much deeper voice grunted in pain.

With the very last of his energy, Peter jogged up Avenue D and around the corner, finding two people partially hidden in the dark doorway to the right of the already closed Dollar Plus. Peter had to do something--to call out, to run forward, to distract this woman's attacker so she could get away.

Instead, she punched the man square in the jaw and he dropped to the ground like a ragdoll.

Peter could only stand at the end of the street with his mouth open, watching her adjust her jacket and the duffle bag slung over her shoulder before stepping over the man on the sidewalk. She caught sight of Peter and he flinched, unsure if he should hide, which would make himself look suspicious, or simply try to run.

"He didn't try and mug you too?" she asked, sounding concerned.

"No," Peter said immediately. "Sorry, I wanted to help. It seems like you had everything handled?"

The woman smirked at him, red lipstick not even smudged. "I've been around the block a few times. And I can tell by your accent you're not new in town. Haven't seen you around here before."

"I don't really hang out," he said. He took a step back, shoving his trembling hands in the front pocket of his hoodie. "Sorry to disturb you."

Peter had already turned around when the woman called, "Hey! Wait, dude." He turned his head and she came much closer to him than anyone had in months, reaching for his arm. He flinched again and she paused with her hand in the air.

"You look like you could use a drink," she said sympathetically. "I work at this place nearby, Hellhouse. You heard of it?"

"I haven't. I don't have any money...," he demurred, but she didn't seem the type to take "no" for an answer.

She waved her hand dismissively. "On me. Come on, Tiger. One drink. What d'you got to lose?"

Peter opened his mouth and then closed it again. "Nothing," he said.

Companion piece to the theoretical first chapter of Hunting!Spiderverse.

Ft. Depressed!Peter escorting MJ to her place of work- otherwise known as "How Peter Ended up Working at St. Margaret's."

[lvis44]

Senna or Superman // LH44

Lewis Hamilton x Reader

Warnings: Language, Angst, Talk of this seasons difficulties, Suggestive dialogue, (Felipe Massa jump scare mention), Not Edited

Word Count: 4.3k+

Summary: Brazil 2024 was unforgiving, but amidst it all some greatness can still be achieved.

Notes: Hey y'all, like I said, I was feeling like typing and needed to work on something different for a second and I think I can speak for all of us that today had me feeling all of the emotions. There's definitely some angst in here but a lot of it is just absolute fluff and reader being an absolute Stan of her boyfriend, bc who wouldn't be if they were dating Lewis Hamilton, lets be real. Also, I've said it once I will say it again, I cannot follow a tense to save my life to ignore that. Kisses xxxx!!!

I am not a professional writer and all of this is a work of fiction and is strictly for fun. Enjoy! xxx

You hadn’t gotten much sleep and you were feeling it as you sat in the back of the Mercedes garage. Lewis had been hyper and full of anxious energy when he returned to the hotel last night. He had spent most of the previous day bobbing around the paddock like an energetic child, complaining about the delay in qualifying and trying to convince anyone that would listen to him that they should be sent out to try and put a lap together. He’s in Brazil, he wants to put on a show, but he’d been forced to wait much to his dismay and that had left you having to deal with him. He had been hyper after being so ready to go but never getting the release from his adrenaline and also annoyed that the sport had changed so much, yapping on about how when he first got to F1 they would have sent them out and that danger and adrenaline is a key part of the sport. You tried incessantly to get him to chill but you really had to just let him wear himself out, much like an actual child. It wasn’t until later in the evening, laying against his chest after finally convincing him to try to get some sleep, that you really got the answer to his emotions.

~

“I’m so excited and honored that I’m driving the MP4 tomorrow, but I’m also nervous. I was so prepared to do it today but having to wait, delaying the gratification, it’s really getting to me.” Lewis whispered into the comfortable silence, surprising you with the unprompted admission.

“It’s even more iconic to do it on race day.” You told him softly, rubbing your hand against his warm chest hoping to lighten the weight of whatever way playing in his mind.

He just hummed in response, evidently deep in his thoughts, his arm tightening around you ever so slightly.

“It’s understandable that you’re nervous Lew, you’re driving a piece of history, not just history to the sport but to your own personal journey and career. You’ve been asked to drive your idols car, the man is the reason you found your calling. Superman or Senna, right?” You kept your voice quiet, realizing that he needed to talk this through a bit more but not wanting to disrupt the peace that had settled around the two of you.

He smiled down at you as he heard the last part of your statement, chuckling lightly,  “Superman or Senna, yes indeed.” He trailed off for a moment, the soft smile lingering on his lips as he stared at the ceiling, almost as if reminiscing over those years when those were his two goals in life, back as a young boy in Stevenage. “What’s kinda funny is that it’s not that I’m really nervous about driving the car itself, like I feel confident in that part, I feel like I’m more than capable. It’s that I’m nervous that I don’t deserve this or something, this is a big deal and I would never want anyone to regret this decision or something. I honestly don’t even really know, like I don’t know why they would regret it I just, I don’t know. Just not really sure I’m worthy of this.” He finished his rant, letting out a deep sigh.

Hearing his thoughts caused you to sit up, no longer caring if you broke the peace in the room. You stared directly at him, eyes locked with his that were evidently startled at your abrupt departure from your cuddle.

“Lewis, I need you to listen to me. They chose you, Senna's family specifically chose you and asked you.” You started, poking him in the chest for emphasis before putting the same finger over his lips to shush him when he tried to argue. “They could have asked any of the other drivers on the grid, they could have asked a retired driver, they could honestly have asked whoever the hell they wanted, but no they asked for you. Not the current reigning champion, not the owner of the car, not even a Mclaren driver. They asked you, not only because they recognize your talent but because they see him in you. They see the love and respect that the people of Brazil have for you and they see you return that tenfold. This beautiful country made you a citizen for a reason, they see you carry that flag with the same pride as your own. Lew even Felipe Massa said that you deserve to be the one to drive that car and isn’t he like literally suing you right now?”

You finally let out a huff before the both of you erupt in a fit of giggles, Lewis forcefully pulling you back down to him to wrap you tightly in his arms. 

“I didn’t know he said that, honestly rather shocking because yeah, pretty sure he is. But ya know, I heard he’s running out of money.” His lips hold a smirk as he looks down at you before you’re both consumed by another fit of giggles. “Thank you,” He whispers once you’ve both calmed down, his lips against your forehead, “I needed to hear that. You know I get too much in my own head sometimes. Still have a hard time believing that all of this is real after everything I’ve been through, where I came from, ya know?”

“I do,” You say, tilting your head up to press a soft kiss to his lips, “you’re allowed to still revel in it, even after all this time. It truly is mental, even if it’s been this way for a while now. And by the way, I’m pretty sure the only reason they would ever regret letting you drive that car is if you crash it into a wall and break it, so just don’t do that and I’m pretty sure everything will be just fine.” You giggle, giving him another kiss.

“Well damn woman, no pressure or anything.” He fakes offence before splitting into a grin with you.

“Hey,” you say, your voice softer again, “I know I’m biassed and all, but know that I can’t think of anyone more deserving of this honor and I am so incredibly proud of you. I’m not sure I’ll be able to hold back the tears when I see you in that Mclaren tomorrow. You are an incredibly blessed man but you do not take it for granted and I am honoured that I get to see how incredible you are every single day, as a driver, as a partner, but most importantly as a human. Let yourself enjoy this Lew, you deserve it and I will be there watching in awe.”

“I love you so so much.” He says, his voice thick with emotion as he pulls you impossibly closer to him.

“I love you too,” You tell him softly, placing a kiss on his chest where he has squished your face into him, “now get some sleep, you have to be up in a few hours for that stupid early morning quali.”

~

Lewis had left early in the morning, sneaking out of bed around 3:30 to get ready. Only waking you accidentally when he placed a soft kiss on your forehead as he was leaving. He was apologetic, telling you to go back to sleep and that he would see you at the track. Not that you were able to get much more sleep, needing to get up and get ready yourself if you wanted any chance of making it there on time. When you had finally arrived to the garage, you made sure to perch yourself in the back, trying to stay out of the way of all the busy people rushing around you.You only got to see Lewis for a brief moment, only having enough time to give him a quick kiss and send him off with a final good luck encouragement. It was pointless though, you both knew the car wasn’t going to perform to Lewis’ liking. If anything it had somehow gotten worse for this weekend. 

As you sat in the garage watching on you couldn’t help but cringe. Lewis was battling with the car, not even making it out of Q1. You knew his mood wouldn’t be amazing when he finally made his way back to you after going to be weighed and speak to the media. You watched the next session, baffled by the sheer chaos unfolding and you couldn’t help but pray that the race would end up being better. The grid was out of position and red flags were being thrown left and right. You let out a sigh when you saw your man finally enter the garage, his helmet still on. He stopped momentarily to speak with some of his engineers, shaking peoples hands and thanking them for their hard work. He finally locked onto you, gesturing for you to follow him as he made his way to his drivers room. When you walked in behind him you could see how heavy his shoulders were. His helmet had been discarded on the bench beside him but he still hadn’t turned around.

“Hey, we knew it was gonna be shit, right?” You said quietly, putting your hand on his damp back.

“Yeah, we did. I’m just so ready for this season to be over.” He finally said, letting out a deep breath as he turned to face you.

“We’re so close babe, so so close. And for now we get to take a little time away from this devil of a car.” You told him, wrapping your arms around his neck as his hands found your waist. Not caring one bit that he was soggy from the rain and the sweat, just content to be with your guy.

“Still got a race to do hun.” He reminded you, kissing his teeth.

“Oh I know, but let’s not think about that right now. I was talking about you getting behind the wheel of a Mclaren MP4 for a little while instead.” You smirk, leaning up towards his now smiling face.

“A proper race car.” He says, his smile threatening to split his face.

This is what you wanted, you wanted him to revel in the joy, revel in the honor of driving such an incredible car. Enjoy being behind the wheel of a Championship winning car once again even if it was only for a few laps and unlike the cars he was used to winning in. 

“A legacy meant for a hometown hero to carry on, and a race car meant for a World Champion. It’s been waiting for another great to stretch its legs and they found just the right Brazilian for the job.” You whispered to him, your faces incredibly close now. 

“If you keep talking like that I might end up locking you in here.” His voice is teasing as he wraps his arms around you.

“As much as I desperately want to say yes to that, I do believe you have something to get ready for.” You sigh, pulling back and patting his chest.

“I do, but we’ll use it for motivation later, I might need it.” He says as he peels himself off of you, his voice is playful but you both know he’s dead serious.

“The second we leave this track, I am all yours for as long as you want or need.” You promise, watching as he starts to change and prepare to go meet the Mclaren mechanics that have been looking after the historical car.

You sit in a comfortable peace for a while, occasionally exchanging words about little things that don’t really matter that much, just enjoying being in his space. You know that when the day is over you will have a full debrief, all of the frustration that he’s setting aside for this moment will inevitably bubble up once he’s in the safe privacy of the two of you alone, but for now you entertain his small talk and let him start to get excited about his incredible moment as he gets himself ready. When he’s ready he turns to  you with childlike excitement bubbling at the surface and you can feel your heart swell.

“This is a good look for you.” You tell him, eyeing the all white suit with the Brazilian flag at his waist.

“I’m still mad I can’t wear his actual helmet.” Lewis grumbles with a shake of his head.

“I hate to say, I actually agree with them on that one babe, let’s keep your head safe, yeah?” You laugh.

“I know I know, don’t think it would even fit on my head anyway.” He playfully groans, making his way over to you.

“I like the special helmet for this weekend though, it’s still a tribute.” You remind him, knowing he’s half joking but wanting him to be fully confident when he steps out.

He nods, taking a moment to admire you before he’s pulling you close and landing his lips on yours in a kiss that takes you by surprise with its force.

“Thank you, for everything,” He starts when he finally pulls away, his forehead resting on yours, “for reminding me that I’m allowed to revel in this, for keeping me grounded,for letting me be excited, just for everything.”

“Hey, that’s why I’m here. You do the exact same for me when I need it, it’s why we work so well.” You say quietly, your hand coming to stroke his beard gently.

“If I don’t get to see you before I get in the car, just know your words from last night are gonna be in my head the entire time. I’m gonna let myself enjoy this, let myself feel this. Nothing else about today matters other than honouring and paying tribute to my childhood hero and getting to live out my childhood dreams of driving the car that made me want to start racing around the circuit that introduced me to another home.” His voice holds excitement and certainty as he speaks that makes you want to cry and kiss him all at once.

You’ve never been quite so proud of the man in front of you. Yes, you’ve cheered for him since the beginning, before you even met him. You’ve wept when he’s broken records and won each and every championship. Yet nothing quite compares to seeing this amazing moment and knowing just how much he deserves it, knowing that there is no one better to hold this responsibility and honor. There is no one like Aryton Senna and truly there never will be, and there is no one like Lewis Hamilton and there truly never will be. 

“You know you’re doing for millions what he did for you, right?” You whisper, hoping he knows just the level of inspiration he gives to everyone watching him, young and old alike.

“I know, and it’s amazing to be able to do that.” He says, his smile warm.

You don’t say another word, giving him a long kiss, feeling connected to him in a way you both need in the moment, albeit for much different reasons. You are pouring every ounce of pride and amazement into the kiss, hoping he can feel it, while he is absorbing the love and reassurance that comes with your touch, letting himself feel his greatness and humble himself all at once. Finally there is a knock at the door, signalling that he really needs to get going, causing you to part from each other reluctantly. 

“Okay, I gotta go do the most amazing thing of my entire career.” He says with a smile, “Be here when I get back?”

“I can’t promise I won’t be sobbing out near the pit wall but I will definitely find you, promise.” You laugh, giving him one last kiss before he grabs his helmet and makes his way over to the media garage where the incredible car is being stored for him.

It takes you a little while to get out to the pit lane that is already lined with people. You wish you could be closer, see the car up close but this isn’t your moment. Today is for Senna's family and the people of Brazil, you are just lucky enough to be able to witness the incredible moment in person.You know Lewis is somewhere down the pitlane, most likely trying to stay calm as he geeks out over the amazing machine he is about to drive. He has driven one of Senna’s cars before, but not in a long time, and not in this setting, not with this honor and audience. You also know that no matter how many times he may have had the privilege of being around and driving incredible race cars, he is a racing driver through and through and the excitement will never change. While you’re standing there smiling to yourself, thinking about how excited Lewis must be and taking in the incredible aura of the crowd, you catch sight of the live stream playing on the jumbotron. There he is, getting in his idols car, you watch as he takes a moment to really take it in just before he’s being strapped in. It’s funny to you to see him surrounded by Mclaren mechanics again, to see the goodyear tires you remember from your first ever F1 races. Then they’re rolling him out and the crowd gets their first in person glimpse of the car over the wall and the cheers echo through your soul. It takes a few more minutes for them to be ready and the atmosphere is building with anticipation but then they start the engine. The first rumble sends a chill down your spine and silences the track. The sound of the V10 roaring to life evoked a visceral feeling from you, bringing back memories of why you fell in love with the sport as a child in the first place and you could only imagine what the emotions coursing through Lewis in that moment were. You saw him shake his head in disbelief as he revved the engine and you could just picture the boyish grin that would be covering his face at that moment. Then it cut, he stalled, and you heard the boos and wanted to run and protect him. You knew it wasn’t his fault, and realistically you knew the crowd wasn’t booing him, they were booing the disruption of the soundtrack that was the incredible V10 engine and you also knew Lewis was smart enough to know that as well. The mechanics were quick, getting the engine back up rapidly and soon enough Lewis was headed out toward the track. He took a moment, the mechanics meeting him again and you prayed that everything would go to plan, this moment was too important to everyone for anything not to be perfect. And then you saw him, speeding past you in Senna’s Mclaren down the pit straight. The spray of water adding to the moment as he waved at the fans who were evidently stunned at the spectacle in front of them. Their recently adopted hero bringing them back to a moment with their lifelong hero. You couldn’t hold back your tears as you watched him complete lap after flawless lap, handling the car like he’d been driving it for years. You could only imagine what the emotions flowing through his body must be, so incredibly grateful to be able to witness the moment. When you saw him stop to grab the flag your tears picked up, watching the beauty of the moment as he completed his dream of waving his new country's flag as he drove his idol's car with no hands around the wet track. Everything about the moment was pure poetry. 

By the time he parked the car on the grid, you were sure there wasn’t a dry eye in the entirety of Sao Paulo. You watched through teary eyes as Viviane went and spoke to him as he collected himself in the cockpit. You could see her thanking him and you knew that he was thanking her just as profusely. You tried to dry your eyes as you watched them pose with Senna's helmet while Lewis sat in the car, but they came back quickly. You finally managed to pull yourself together just a little bit as you watched him pose with flag but the second he knelt down next to the car as if to thank it for everything it had done for him and his idol, you lost it again, You couldn’t help but laugh at yourself just a bit, your emotions were definitely getting the best of you. You could see the emotion on Lewis’ face as he too pulled himself together to get ready for the interview. He was beaming, eternally grateful for the opportunity. You listened as he described his love for Brazil and the love he has received from the fans, you could hear the emotion thick in his voice the entire time, even through the incredible joy that was paired with it. You knew he meant it when he said it was the ‘honor of his career’ and you were certain this would be a moment that neither of you ever forgot. Everything about it was purely beautiful, seeing everyone pause for something so meaningful, you weren’t sure you had ever seen the sport so at one in your entire life.

When you saw him finally making his way to the pit lane you scramble to try to pull yourself together, hoping to be somewhat emotionally sound when you went to meet him in his drivers room, but he found you first, a strong arm slinking around your waist before you were being crushed in a tight hug. When he finally let you go you took a moment to take him in. The emotions were written all over his face, the weight of the profound moment sinking in for him as the joy was palpable. He took in your state, his eyes softening, knowing that every emotion on your face came from your love for him and your love for the sport.

“C’mon, lets go be alone for a second.” He said softly, guiding you toward the garage.

When you were safely inside his drivers room you turned to him, your words dying on your tongue as they didn’t feel enough to express just how proud of him you were. Instead you opted to grasp his face in your hands and kiss him, hard, tears falling down your cheeks as you did. When you finally parted from him you saw that the smile had never left his face.

“I think you’re more emotional about that entire thing than I am.” He teased you softly, wiping a stray tear from your cheek.

“Stop it,” You laughed, swatting at him pathetically, “I’m just so proud of you and so happy for you. I can only imagine what that meant to you.”

“Yeah, it was surreal, never had so many emotions at once. It felt incredible, it truly felt like a dream come true.” He said as he placed his hands on your waist, pulling you toward him.

“I was right you know, there was no one more suited for that than you.” You tell him softly.

“You were absolutely right, that felt perfect, Viviane was so kind and so grateful, I will never forget this.” He sighs and you can tell the weight of the weekend is leaving his body with it.

“Nothing else that happens this weekend matters, okay? This was what it was all for.” You assure him, placing your hand on the side of his neck.

“Thank you, you’re right, that was truly the only reason I am here this weekend, none of the rest matters in the slightest.” His eyes are soft as he melts into your touch.

“I know you said you wanted to be Senna or Superman but I think you may have achieved both just now. You are more than a hero to just about everyone here, me included.” You tell him softly, staring deep into his eyes as you do.

“That means a lot, I felt it while I was out there. It was a crazy feeling, getting to be that for everyone.” He says earnestly.

“You do it way more frequently than you think, even if you haven’t been feeling it lately.” You assure him, wanting him to know just how much you mean it.

He doesn’t respond but you can tell he’s just taking it in as he lets out a breath and traces circles on your hip. He’s a confident man, cocky at times, but even the strongest of soldiers can be weak in the face of defeat.

“I know you are a natural born competitor, but let's make a deal that your only objective today is just to come back to me in one piece. That’s all I ask of you.” You say after a moment, listening to the rain pickup against the roof.

“I will absolutely come back to you, but I ain’t making any promise about not also trying to pull that tractor as far forward as I can.” He laughs, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“Okay fair enough, just need you in tiptop shape to be my superman when we get back to the hotel tonight.” You smirk, pinching his bicep.

“Well when you put it like that why don’t we just leave on a high note and head back right now?” He asks playfully, pulling you closer to him.

“I’m down, but you’ve gotta go keep being both Senna and Superman.” You giggle.

“Okay, I’ll do my best, but I’m still holding you to that even if this race is shit.” He says, pinching your bum.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

[katiascraft]

“I need to confess. I told you a lie. I said you were the love of my life.” | LN4

part 2 of this.

Parings: Lando Norris x Ex!Bisexual!Reader.

Summary: after leaving Lando, you realized what real love was like. Unfortunately, he didn’t and all he could think about every time he looks at his new parter is you.

Now playing: “L’AMOUR DE MA VIE” by Billie Eilish.

Word count: +2k.

Warnings: angst (?) insults (?) cursed words. Not a native English speaker so there could be (so many) errors. Not proofread.

Author’s note: maybe this sucks. well I don’t know but I just came to this idea for a part 2 no one asked of this but yeah. Reader deserved a happy ending ❤️‍🩹 Don’t forget to like, comment or reblog! And follow me so we can be friends :3 (and drink mate together!)

MASTERLIST

It’s been 10 months since the worst day of your life. The day you had enough of the place that you weren’t enough for. The place who made you so miserable and insecure. The place that broke you in so many pieces it turned you to dust. The place where you never want to go back to.

It’s been the hardest 10 months of your life. Mourning the life you thought you would have forever was the worst process you got yourself through. How you had to not only get over your ex, Lando, but also the you that wasn’t gonna be you anymore for the rest of your life. And that was the hardest past. Let go of who you were when he was in your life and let go of all the memories. It was like learning to be a functioning human being again. And you also thought you couldn’t bear with being single. You felt so ashamed of not remembering how to approach people or even how to feel attractive yourself. You were nothing after that day.

For your family and friends was heartbreaking too. Not only because they had to mourn lando that now was out of your life so then their lives as well, but also the you they knew before and during the relationship. And now learning to know this new you.

It was hard for the first 3 months but thanks to your friends and intense therapy sessions you eventually got better. You started discovering a part of yourself you didn’t know existed. Leaving lando changed you not 180 degrees but 360. You changed your style, your hair, your humor, your attitude. You spoke up. Had a strong opinion. You started being more selective with people and for a long time you remained single. you worked on you. Trying to give yourself back everything that relationship took away. You made new friends and moved to New York to start a new life. In that city you found you loved music and storytelling so you started a musical career on YouTube and became kind of famous. You also went to university. And now you’re a content creator, you upload vlogs of your everyday life and opinions. You love fashion like crazy and post your outfits on Instagram and TikTok along with your music. And you are back into being happy. Not only with your life but with yourself. You love who you are and what you do for a living. There’s no one you have to follow or leave everything behind. You live now in your own world where you are the thing that matters the most. You feel so grateful you made it through.

But you were also madly loved for who you are. Tania was your new girlfriend. You didn’t even know you liked girls as well. You tried with guys but none of them felt right for you until you met Tania in a little music shop two blocks away from your apartment. It was the most romantic way of meeting someone you believed. You two went to the same shop to buy the same album and oh coincidence of life there was only one copy of it. And that’s how you met. She gave it to you and so you offered her to come to your place and listen to it together. Yeah you offered that to a stranger but she looked so beautiful. You felt something so weird you haven’t ever felt before in your life. His blonde hair so shiny and his brown eyes so deep you could drown in them with no problem. She was gorgeous.

In fact, you never felt so seen until you met her. The way she actually listened to what you had to say. The way he understood your insecurities and tried to help you and figure it out together. The way you could laugh for hours non-stop until you went dry from crying of laughter. When you felt how you felt with her you knew Lando didn’t matter at all. He never loved you for who you were. He never appreciated all of the sacrifices you did for him just because you thought you loved him your entire life. The way you listened and supported him anywhere, anyhow, whenever. You gave everything for him, but what about you? He never noticed you. He never saw you. He never cared about you.

Realizing that hurt at first but then you understood it was the wrong person at the wrong time. Because if you hadn’t been through what he put you through then this wouldn’t be your life and you wouldn’t be this loved.

But you know what they say, life’s a bitch so here you were again in Monaco for Alexandra’s birthday. It was gonna be a huge event in a yacht for all of her friends. So of course you knew lando was coming and you also knew because of Alex he had a new girlfriend as well. You weren’t intimidated by him but you felt a little insecure you know. You felt rather uncomfortable. But Alex was your friend and she was so nice she invited Tania as well and few of your hometown friends so you wouldn’t feel left apart. Alex knew you so well. You always have struggled with fitting in. She was really sweet. But at the same time you were also so excited to see the guys again. You talked to Pierre and kika. They were so excited to see you. You missed them all of course you did. Moving countries and having an ex who drives along them made things ticky. It was complicated to meet and hang around outside weekend races during the year and of course you wouldn’t assist knowing lando was there. You didn’t want to see him. So tonight is fireproof. If you see him again and survive then the paddock should get ready to see you every now and then with you gorgeous girl.

She knew about Lando of course. And she was the most supportive angel to you. Of course she also hated him. And probably could kill him if you let her. But she won’t just because you asked her.

you were going by taxi. You didn’t have your car because you were on the other side of the world and you wouldn’t waste money renting one just to go to a party in a yacht. You didn’t care about appearances anymore. You got to the harbor just in time. Most of the invited guests were already there. You got there with Tania in your hand and your group of friends. You looked around seeing so many familiar faces and the first one to run to you and hug you tightly was Kika followed by Pierre. You giggled on her shoulder hugging her as well.

“Oh my god girl you look fucking beautiful what the fuck I missed you so much” she said on your shoulder so excited to see you. It flattered your heart.

“I missed you too, my love” you said sweetly. And when you pulled apart you hugged Pierre and introduced Tania to them. They were always so warm. You really missed them. A few minutes passed and you were talking along with a lot of the formula 1 drivers and their partners just like the old days. You felt so part of it. And so loved. And all of them were so nice to Tania. She was so excited that she met Max and he posed for a picture with her that it melted your heart completely. You didn’t see lando by the way. He hasn't arrived yet. But Carlos didn’t either so probably they were coming together. After 15 minutes, the birthday girl finally arrived with her prince in hand and all of the guests were there. The yacht was ready as well. Lando was there with her. You knew her of course you did. She was friends with Max and Kelly. Of course you remember her. Lando is so predictable. You wanted to laugh in his face but you didn’t. You didn’t even say hi. You didn’t want to and you guess he didn’t either because he barely looks at you when he arrived.

(…)

The party was formidable and you were already drunk laughing and posing. Kika was trying to take a couple of pictures of you and Tania and the sunset behind you. It was a beautiful picture.

“Oh my god you’re so beautiful” she said finally ending the photo shoot so she showed you the pictures.

It felt so satisfying being back and not giving a fuck about Lando. All of the guys were so welcoming and sweet like they always had been with you.

Tania had to go to the bathroom. “You want me to go with you titi?” You called her by her nickname you created. She smiled and gave you a kiss on your lips.

“I’m okay baby. I’ll be right back” she said and after giving you one last kiss she disappeared through all of the people around heading to the bathroom. You stayed with your group of friends dancing around and having fun. Alex was there two sharing with all of us. You loved that woman. She was one of your closest friends who was there with you to hold you and listen. She knew what it was like. But she is loved unlike you weren’t. You were enjoying yourself until you heard someone clearing their throat like exaggerated. You turned to find lando clearly drunk looking at you with puppy eyes yet so dark. You of course didn’t like to see him.

“Y/n we need to talk” he said almost in a whisper so no one could hear him but you. Inside you felt disgusted. His voice was once your favorite sound, one that could send chills down your spine. Now it kinda repulses you.

“No, we don't need Lando. Just pretend I don’t exist” you said clearly upset by his behavior.

“But I can’t y/n. I couldn't stop looking at you since I arrived. I can’t get you out of my head. I tried. But I don’t know what else to do!” He was clearly drunk. And you were unbothered to be honest. You noticed Carlos and Oscar heard him and looked at you. You just rolled your eyes at lando.

“Then it’s not my fucking problem lando. You had me but you couldn’t give a damn about me. Sorry it's too late. I’m happy now and I am loved” you spitted about to turn when he grabbed your arm for you not to go.

“You said I was the love of your life. What happened to that? I know you’re the love of my life. Please, y/n” he said kind of desperately. You looked at him with a poker face. You felt nothing at all. And yes you were surprised but also so proud. Lando Norris meant nothing at all finally. He couldn’t move you. He didn’t have power over you anymore. You won.

“Well then I need to confess I lied. You weren’t the love of my life Lando. You were the motherfucker of my life. You fucking destroyed me. So stop with all of this bullshit” you said Angry. You were saying the truth without being afraid of it. You didn’t care anymore. Now your life is yours and he had no power over it. And you’re fucking happy. You just needed to make sure he knew it. And watch him suffer. And you could see something broke inside of him when he heard you saying that. Fortunately Tania came back from the bathroom just in time.

“Y/n, babe, is everything alright?” She asked, watching lando a little confused but controlling her desires to kill him right there.

You smiled at her. “Yeah beba all good now that you are here” you said, grabbing her by her waist and kissing her gently. She grabbed your face a little surprised at first. But she couldn’t say no to your lips. She was addicted. you didn’t care lando was there. You just kissed and turned to your group of friends ignoring that he was the guy you loved just like he did when he was with you.

[tenshi-agerasia]

in-universe alien stage mechanisms and the use of colors in round 7 (a luka & till rant ft. mizi & hyuna)

it's generally agreed that alien stage can be interpreted as a metaphor for the kpop industry, and as someone who did tons of studying (because of my 3d fav) on how performances work in c-ent, i noticed some things on my nth rewatch of blink gone

meta-wise, the colors in the mv are green (to represent till) and purple (to represent luka). this combo works really well for the song, but is there an in-universe explanation to the lighting? yep:

take a look at the scoreboard. even in-universe, green represents till and purple represents luka. taking the idol theme more literally, we can also assume that these are their official colors. i went back to the TOP 3 video and well well well guess what appears during luka's part

the lightsticks, the projected neon signs, the same kind of mask (?), the stadium lights. we can reasonably assume that this purple is luka's official fan color and represents support for him.

and guess what color almost all of the crowd is repping during round 7 through lightsticks and masks?

that's right, overwhelmingly purple. don't forget that the winners of each round of alien stage are decided by live in-house voting, and audience members will always be biased towards who they're a fan of. remember that luka is insanely popular and already won a season, so his fanbase would be larger, more developed, and more devoted.

till was, for a lack of better words, cooked. he was doomed to lose from the start, because how can a few of his fans outvote the majority?

i've seen some people theorize that the result was rigged, and i completely disagree: you cannot fake support on this large of a scale. "oh, but the color of the lightsticks are controlled by the organizers" then explain the masks, a clear fandom symbol

also, from my experience in survival shows, vote counts in the final round are usually hidden until the results are announced, which explains the wobbliness of the scoreboard bars like they're inflatable tube men in front of a car or mattress dealership.

an alternative explanation to the lightsticks is that it represents the current vote, but i'm not inclined to believe this theory because, again, the masks. like real-life idol performances, i think that this is just a show of support from the audience.

back to the meta: mizi's appearance in the crowd is a reinvigoration of determination in till, and in terms of color, she is a break of bright green among the sea of purple. she not only stands out because she's someone he loves, she is visually a breath of fresh air for him.

do you think, in those last moments, he was not only happy to see her alive in front of him but to also see her wearing his color?

in this part where they're reaching out to each other, the pink-purple light that seems to be shining from mizi is representative of how she's a beacon of hope for till. in-universe, however, till is just moving towards the audience, the close proximity of the lightsticks illuminating his face with color.

mizi and till are surrounded by this vibrant purple, a symbol for luka. even with mizi's more pink-ish radiance, they are literally in his territory, at the mercy of the system that he has been through and learned to play along with.

the same can't be said about luka when he sees hyuna again:

the warmth of his fan color disappears, replaced by a colder indigo. the audience, his fans, the aliens that he knows how to use to keep himself alive mean nothing to him right now. it's this cold feeling of shock that makes him so unsure of how to react.

in this moment, he is no longer luka the performer, luka the idol, luka the twice winner of alien stage—he's just luka. he's vulnerable to emotion, an unfamiliar thing, and he's so painfully human.

luka: (sees hyuna) holy shit it's you... mizi: till is literally dying behind you luka: this ain't about him

another detail: these shots were never shown in the mv so i'm assuming they're taken by in-universe cameras (see the red flashes in the audience), especially because of the angle (downwards pointing perspective)

[just-some-random-blogger]

BESTIE IM GAGGED NAAKJAMAKKAKAKAKMANANAHAHAHBA IDK BLUE BEARD BUT I DO KNOW CRISTI AND SHE ATE WITH THIS

“It is for the best. Father says that he…” Alicent begins justifying her actions, and you tune out. You know it will just be a repetition of your father’s lectures. Duty. Bearing children. Women knowing their place.

Man fuck Otto. RAT ASS PIECE OF SHIT. you and me 🤝 writing tormented hightowers

You pitied her, for believing in his bullshit.

😭 she's just a girl

“And King Viserys asked me about you, the other day. He would like for you to marry Prince Daemon…”

EWWWWWWWW NOT OTTO MAKING ALICENT DO THE HEAVY LIFTING FOR THIS TOO I HATEHIM

“Be as it may…” She raises a hand, halting you. “Father says you shall marry him, if he finds you agreeable.”

👎👎👎👎 agree with my ass

Lady Royce had no heir. Her castle had gone to Daemon, the King needing little convincing to award it to his beloved brother. Imagining all that bronze in your hands, in House Hightower’s hands, would have him salivating. At getting his enemy away from court? That was only an unexpected bonus. If the man liked you and decided he wanted to play Come-into-my-castle with you, you were sure your father would dance a gig.

"I think it would be nice. To belong to the same House even after marriage. To be never parted from my sister.”

😭✋ I'm stealing this for tormented spirit. CRISTI WTF SO ANGTY SO GOOD

In contrast, you doubt you have ever seen your father this happy. Ever. He is alight with pride. As if throwing his daughter to an old man is some great accomplishment.

Gwayne has left you far too soon, off to dance with some ladies.

L MOVE GWAYNE

“Bitch.” He spits the word from clenched teeth. You laugh loudly.

MSKJSJSSN WHY HE KINDA

“I don’t know, care to find out?”

She ate him up with that HAHHAAH

“Will you?” You roll on your side, stretching. You have done nothing today, not even dress. Daemon and you have spent the whole morning tangled in each other, warm and naked.

😭😫SHE OUT HERE LIVING MY LIFE 🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪

“I mean it.” He is cruel about it, slapping again the stinging flesh. “I do not want you in there. If you disobey, I’ll know.”

🧍‍♀️🧍‍♀️🧍‍♀️🧍‍♀️🧍‍♀️🧍‍♀️🧍‍♀️🧍‍♀️🧍‍♀️🧍‍♀️ HELLO

DIE

Yet, as his touch turns back into loving, you do not forget. There is something about what lies beyond that red door that turns him into a monster. A creature capable of hurting even you.

GWORLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL HES AN ABUSER DONT DO IT.

You grab the dagger at Daemon’s hip and stab him in the stomach, hard. And you do it again, and again, until your hands and face are covered in blood, and Daemon does no longer move.

🧍‍♀️🧍‍♀️🧍‍♀️🧍‍♀️ well that'll do it. I'm GAGGED he dead dead fr fr. I almost thought she was like if I'm going to die might as well do it myself and jump out the tower. 😭😭😭 I'm just a masochist lmao

honestly. Deserved. Abusers dying no one crying.

Threefold cord (Daemon Targaryen x Reader)

Summary: Daemon’s wife is presumed dead. But is she?

A/N: Blue beard, to finish my Halloween celebration because I cannot write on schedule. Also @just-some-random-blogger look! The fic I told you about.

Warnings: Hightower!reader x Daemon. Smut. Alicent, Gwayne and reader as siblings. Death of Rhea Royce. Happy ending!

“ARE YOU TRULY about to wed him?” You set your teacup down on its saucer. When your father had summoned you to the capital, you had known it was important news. But Alicent becoming a Queen? It surpassed everything you had imagined.

Your father wanted to make sure you were there to witness her triumph. Alicent lacked allies in court, beyond the Princess. And that relationship would sour as soon as the other girl heard just who her father was to wed.

Alicent was too naive to see it. Or purposefully blind. She claimed to not know what she had been doing when visiting the King, too. You guessed the thought made it easier to bear for her.

You didn’t blame her. King Viserys was old and beginning to show signs of being sickly. The thought of offering yourself to such a man, twice your age, on your father’s orders, wasn’t pleasant. You would rather pretend you were just being kind.

“It is for the best. Father says that he…” Alicent begins justifying her actions, and you tune out. You know it will just be a repetition of your father’s lectures. Duty. Bearing children. Women knowing their place.

You pitied her, for believing in his bullshit. It wasn’t as if either of you could escape your fate, but you at least tried not to lower yourself into thinking you were a lesser, gentler being, made to be bred. Instead, you enjoyed thinking you were a person. Just as human as any man, just as smart, just as strong. Only one trapped by your status as a noblewoman.

You sip at your tea. You are cautious not to make a sound when doing so, and not take too big of a sip. Anyone who gazes at your courtly smile and comely manners would not guess your innermost thoughts.

Alicent continues her tirade, describing animatedly how much she wants to do her duty and birth children. How she knows her body will not fail her as it did for the late Queen. She has an unfortunate thirst for proving herself, your eldest sister.

“And King Viserys asked me about you, the other day. He would like for you to marry Prince Daemon…”

The tea you are drinking goes down the wrong way. You start coughing, and have to hurriedly set down your teacup as to not burn yourself.

“Excuse me?” You say, once the coughing fit subsides a bit, and you are able to wipe your mouth with a napkin. “I will… What? Does father know of this?”

She looks at you, concerned, but says nothing about it. She pours herself another cup of tea.

“Prince Daemon’s wife has been missing for a while. They think she might have…” Alicent leans in, voice lowering. You are in the Tower of the Hand, surrounded by men loyal to your father, and yet she feels she cannot say it freely. You wonder what has Lady Royce done to scandalize her such. “Ran away. With a lover.”

“You prude!” You laugh. You had thought it much worse. “She wouldn’t be the first woman to do so, don’t be nai…”

“A female one.” Alicent interrupts, setting down her own teacup. The movement is a bit harsh, making the porcelain screech.

You open and close your mouth. You had not known that was even a possibility.

“How does one..?”

“Be as it may…” She raises a hand, halting you. “Father says you shall marry him, if he finds you agreeable.”

There was not much you knew about politics, but you were pretty sure the Prince despised your father and your house by extension. You doubted he would find you agreeable. Your father would doubt it too, but he was too blinded by the hope of getting Runestone.

Lady Royce had no heir. Her castle had gone to Daemon, the King needing little convincing to award it to his beloved brother. Imagining all that bronze in your hands, in House Hightower’s hands, would have him salivating. At getting his enemy away from court? That was only an unexpected bonus. If the man liked you and decided he wanted to play Come-into-my-castle with you, you were sure your father would dance a gig.

You wouldn’t. If it did happen… You shuddered, thinking of the man with the lecherous grin, always whoring. Twice your age, and crass as they came. The only times you had crossed paths, he had been busy ogling Alicent or his niece.

“I am not marrying him.”

Alicent frowns at you. Her eyes turn sad. When she gets contradicted, she looks much like a kicked puppy.

“I have never met him.” You explain, feeling guilty over upsetting her. She is just so much like your father, sometimes. It angers you, even when you know it is not her fault. She doesn’t have the same anger in her veins as you do. All she ever wanted was to please your father.

“He is looking for a wife, and King Viserys thinks it would be marvelous if you married him. I have told him all about you.” Alicent sounds excited about the whole thing, and just… No. You do not want to marry a man twice your age. Gross. Her tone turns softer. “I think it would be nice. To belong to the same House even after marriage. To be never parted from my sister.”

The want in her expression makes you soften. It is not often that Alicent admits to desiring anything, and you do not wish to discourage her.

“I’ll meet him.” You decide. “Just that.”

“Oh, how wonderful!”

And the Seven bless her, she actually seems delighted to hear it.

THE WEDDING IS awfully dull. The Septon drones on and on about the Mother and the Father, and the duties of marriage. Alicent looks stunning in her silk gown, beautiful but modest. It is no use. People already speak of what she has done to trap the King into marriage.

Princess Rhaenyra keeps sending her glares during the feast. Sometimes in anger, sometimes in hurt. She is not quite sure what to feel. You can tell from the way she pauses when looking at Alicent. You pity her too.

Losing a mother is a terrible thing. You can only imagine how much it hurts to see her replaced by a girl your own age.

The Princess is a woman who has everything and yet, it's still a woman. No power to stop her father from bedding her best friend, no power to change anything at all. The realization of her powerlessness is clear in her features.

In contrast, you doubt you have ever seen your father this happy. Ever. He is alight with pride. As if throwing his daughter to an old man is some great accomplishment. He has spared no expense on this wedding, the ceremony and feast lavish in a way that feels almost tasteless.

The pomp and luxuries have you feeling morose. You sip at your hippocras, tucked into a corner of the high table, and try to pretend you are invisible. Gwayne has left you far too soon, off to dance with some ladies.

He has always been the courteous sort, just like you. You enjoy watching him charm the ladies, and enjoy more the fact that he hasn’t tried to drag you to the dance floor.

For that, you are grateful. Some ladies are lively and dance as if gliding through water. You do not. Dancing had not been on the list of abilities you had acquired during your etiquette lessons.

It had always felt like peacocking to you. Showing yourself to others, showing how pretty you smiled, how graceful you were. The attention it brought made you uncomfortable. You much preferred blending in.

“Strange choice of drink you have there.” Prince Daemon says, sitting across from you. “Even stranger that you are still sitting at your sister's wedding.”

“I could say the same.” You reply, colder than you planned to. The hippocras is hitting you already, making your temper shorter. You have little interest in Daemon Targaryen.

There is a secret plan in your head. When you reach thirty, you will claim a sudden awakening of Faith and retire to the comforts of life as a Septa. You have done enough charity to know that Septas don’t do as much as they like people to think. The only thing you will miss will be the alcohol.

“Ah, but I am just sitting now.” He idly reaches for the carafe of hippocras you are monopolizing, and serves himself a goblet. “Is this any good?”

“At least it’s not dornish swill.” Dornish wine has to be the worst thing you have ever tasted, not even fit for pigs. Bitter and watery, the mere thought annoys you.

Prince Daemon barks out a laughter.

“Good Gods, where was Otto hiding you?”

“Probably in the same place as your decency.”

“Thread carefully.” Daemon’s expression turns far colder. His hand tightens around the stem of his goblet. “I might like your cheek, but I am still a prince of the realm.”

“One soon to be displaced.” You toast. A bit of hippocras spills from your goblet. You are far too drunk to care about his thoughts. “Be it by my nephews or your niece.”

His face reddens.

“Bitch.” He spits the word from clenched teeth. You laugh loudly.

“Knave.”

“You are an insolent little thing, aren’t you?” Daemon snarls, leaning over the table as if to throttle you. Drunk as you are, you don’t feel any fear. You have just enough rational thoughts left to believe you will be alright, since even the darkened corner you have chosen to sit in is too public for him to murder you without repercussions.

“I am small but fierce.”

“I can see that. Do all Hightower cunts have teeth?”

You smile at him, lazy and warm from the drinks you have had.

“I don’t know, care to find out?”

And Daemon laughs. He asks you to dance instead. As he twirls you and dips you, you come to find he is not bad company after all. And if you laugh a tad more than necessary, and accept his offer to walk the gardens the next afternoon, no one can blame you.

“IT IS BUT a couple of days.” Daemon says to you, softly. You lay on your stomach, head propped up on your arms. You twist your head just so to force him to see your sad little pout.

His hand comes to rub at your shoulders, as if you were a spooked horse he is trying to soothe. His touch is warm and calming against your bare skin.

“I’ll be back before you know it.”

He has soothed you into complacency, this husband of yours. He allows you to indulge in fine wines, and be as frivolous as you wish. The only thing he asks of you is that you are warm and willing when he is. It is no chore.

Long gone is your rage. Now, you exist in a perfect bubble, where no one constricts your freedom. There is no screeching father to tell you that you are a disaster, nor is there a horrified Alicent. Instead, Daemon encourages all your eccentricities, and teaches you some new ones.

“Will you?” You roll on your side, stretching. You have done nothing today, not even dress. Daemon and you have spent the whole morning tangled in each other, warm and naked.

He smiles. That same grin that had once seemed so lecherous to you, now looks inviting.

You bite your lower lip, already anticipating what is to come.

“Minx.” Daemon laughs, before leaning in to press an open-mouthed kiss to your shoulder. The contact of his lips against your skin makes you shiver, a delicate sigh leaving you. “You won’t even notice I am gone.”

“Of course I will.” You whine, as he kisses a path down your spine. “Who will bring me such pleasure?”

A sudden, sharp pain on your arse makes you yelp and sit up. Daemon smirks, and feigns taking another bite out of you.

“You are so spoiled.” He laughs. “Cannot take even a little pain. I’ll leave you some coin, and you can invite your sister to keep you company. How does it sound?”

“Think the King can spare his Queen?” You have not seen your sister since your wedding. The ravens fly fast enough that you know the news already, but you doubt King Viserys will allow her to be out of his sight for long. Not when pregnant.

Daemon nips at your thigh. You jerk, but he coaxes you back into laying on your stomach.

“Before she gets too round to travel, yes. In a few moons, it will have to be us making the trip.”

“Gods, I hate babes.”

“So do I.” He rubs at your inner thigh, slowly prying your legs open. “So? Is my spoiled wife happy?”

“Very.” You rub your face in the pillow, all kittenish. You like being called his. “Do I get the keys of the castle, too?”

Daemon kisses the place where your thigh meets your arse. You can feel his smile against your skin, promising sin.

“Of course. Just don’t go into the room with the red door, alright? I forbid it.”

“You do?” You challenge, thinking it part of the game. So far, you have yet to explore all of Runestone, always too entertained by him to do so. There are a few rooms he is cagey about, but you have always blamed it on Daemon being very private and needing his space. He has never allowed you into his personal library, either. Says you would ruin the books.

You have never minded it. You understand your place here, the dumb young wife. Men never like thinking the woman they are with can be more interesting than them. To think you can also have an interest in books, apart from being frivolous, would be too much for him to handle.

The warning about the red door only registers to you as part of the games you usually play in the bedroom. Something he can punish you about later on, something that might excuse a round of rough lovemaking.

But his expression turns into a frightening mask of utter rage. He pinches you in the thigh, and this time, it really hurts.

“Fuck!” You cry out, fighting his hold. His grip has turned from the sweetest chains into unforgiving iron around your hips. You cannot move. Not even as he slaps your thigh, hard enough to make your eyes water. “Daemon, what the..?”

“I mean it.” He is cruel about it, slapping again the stinging flesh. “I do not want you in there. If you disobey, I’ll know.”

You stare at him, open-mouthed, You cannot comprehend how fast he has flipped, from kind lover to whatever this is. The rogue Prince is mercurial, you think, echoing the letter your father had once written complaining about him, his moods dangerous.

“Fine!” You cry out, desperate to evict this creature that has taken sudden hold of your husband’s body. “Fine! No opening the red door.”

Daemon softens then. His shoulders slump, and his face goes back into a mask of devotion.

“I just don’t want anything to happen to you.” He presses a kiss to your thigh, to the place he slapped. You tense. “It is dangerous for you. Like the Moondoor in The Eyrie.”

Yet, as his touch turns back into loving, you do not forget. There is something about what lies beyond that red door that turns him into a monster. A creature capable of hurting even you.

You intend to find out what it is.

THE FORTNIGHT SPENT with Alicent is by far, the best of your life. Runestone is grand, with intricate tapestries and artwork decorating the walls. Your sister has always loved art, and the time spent surrounded by beautiful things seems to rejuvenate her.

Her pregnancy appears to be easy and without fuzz. There is no nausea preventing her from having as many lemon cakes as you two wish, or from exploring the Vale’s markets, trying on dresses and tasting expensive food.

The money Daemon has left you is enough to fund your shopping sprees. You have so much fun, running in the halls and trying on dresses, it feels as if you are little girls again. The only thing missing from your childhood is Gwayne.

So you send for him.

Despite how much joy your time spent with your sister brings you, you cannot shake the thought about the red door.

It is situated in one of the towers, near the place where Daemon keeps his books. You pass by it daily, for Alicent’s rooms have been placed in the same tower. Housing a Queen is no easy task, much less when she carries the heir to the Iron Throne inside her. She had come with servants and guards, who had to be housed too. There was no space but that tower.

That tower. Each time you pass it, you have to clench your fists hard to stop yourself from reaching towards it. Every time you open a door, your hands linger on the only key you will never use.

What lies behind the red door? What can possibly upset your husband such and change him from a careless hedonist into a violent man?

When no one is near, you kneel by the door and try to look through the keyhole. The lock on the door is old and smells faintly of iron. The only thing you can see looking through the keyhole is rust.

Trying to look under the door gives you the same results. Rust and iron, and a nagging curiosity that will not leave you alone.

You try to forget about it. You owe obedience to your husband, and you remember all too well the tale of the woman who owned a jar that should never be opened. It had been a favorite of your father during your youth.

A wife must never pry. For she might find something she doesn’t like.

Yet, when you think of Daemon grabbing you hard enough to bruise, you realize you already have found something you do not like. It is that thought what helps you make up your mind. One afternoon, when Alicent claims to be too tired to keep you company, you decide to open the door.

Your hands are slick with sweat, and shaking so much it takes you two tries to fit the key into the keyhole. Your heart feels like it will leap out of your chest. Suddenly, you are paralyzed.

You cannot turn the key. Your hands have gone rigid. Your fear overwhelms you. What could possibly be in here, if not a terrible secret?

You turn it. The lock clicks, and the door gives with an ominous creak. You step inside, as careful as you can. The floor is slick and sticky. When you look down, your shoes and the hem of your gown are tinted red.

You scream. You turn towards the walls, only to find more blood. Bloodied rags, stains, a bloodied dagger. You begin to feel lightheaded. When you stumble towards a corner, you see her.

A corpse of a woman, hugging her knees to her chest. Her body is rotting, half of her face gone, but enough of it remaining so you can see that it has frozen in an expression of utter horror, much like your own. She wears a rune covered armor, and has several cuts all over.

This time, you fall down. The keys slip from your grip, and you scream so loud, you are sure you wake the whole castle.

The missing Rhea Royce.

“Good gods!” Alicent cries out, behind you. You stumble to your feet, terrified. She cannot see it. Daemon… Daemon was going to kill you both. “What is this? By the Seven, is that..?”

“He is going to kill me.” You say, wiping the blood clinging to your hands on your dress. You try to clean the keys as well, but the stain won’t come out. No matter how hard you try. “He’ll know.”

“He is not going to, we can go to the King, and I am sure there is…” Alicent sounds horrified. She lingers on the doorstep, already on her nightshirt. Her belly is barely beginning to show.

“Alicent!” You say, sharply. “He’ll know. You have to run, Alicent. He will kill us both.”

“And leave you to die?” Your sister sounds indignant. “I cannot. You cannot…”

You cannot run, you wish to say. You cannot because if you do, Daemon will know even quicker, and chase you both. If you stay, maybe you can fool him. Or at least, give your sister a fighting chance.

“Please!” You cry. “Do it for the babe.”

Alicent’s lips turn white from the force she uses to keep them closed. She looks into your eyes, and hesitates. You fear she might not go through it.

“Go!” You cry, slipping on all the blood.

And Alicent, big brown eyes wide, hikes up her skirts and runs.

DAEMON NOTICES AS soon as he asks for the keys. You have never been a good liar, and the blood still stains them. When handing them over, you shake.

His smile drops. He no longer is the happy husband, but the creature that had frightened you the other night. The creature that had killed Rhea Royce, and took her lands.

“You couldn’t leave it alone, could you?” He grabs you by the neck, snarling.“I told you to leave it alone.”

Your pulse begins to race. You cannot speak, and you can only take shallow breaths. Your panic must show on your face because Daemon smiles at you, coldly. He squeezes a tad harder, enough to cut off your breath.

You gasp. It comes out more like a choked hiccup.

“Look at what you are making me do.” When you are starting to feel lightheaded, breath coming out in desperate wheezes, Daemon gives you a shove. “I never wanted to do this. This is all your fault.”

“You don’t have to kill me.” You plead, voice shaking. “I’ll keep your secret.”

Daemon looks at you, and laughs.

“I assure you, I have not gotten away with it this long because I believe every pretty thing telling me they will keep their mouths shut.”

Your eyes widen. The phrasing is strange. Every pretty thing…

“There had been others?” Daemon scoffs at your question, but doesn’t answer. You look into his eyes, and try pleading once more. At this point, tears are streaming down your cheeks. You are sure you make a very pathetic sight. “Just… Don’t kill me.”

“Good Gods. Are all Hightowers this dumb or is it you and Aliwhore?” Daemon grasps your face, roughly. You cannot believe your ears. Where is all this hatred coming from? It seems like the man you loved, the one that had courted you for endless summer days, is gone. All that is left is his profound hatred for you and your family. Had he only pretended not to hate you, and was showing his true colors now? “At least die with some dignity, you pathetic cunt.”

Dignity. Dignity could buy you time. You need it, to think of a way to survive.

“Allow me to pray, then. To make my peace with my death.”

Prayer wasn’t your strong forte. But you guessed you could possibly buy an hour with it. You had never been as devout as your siblings, but you could pretend well enough to fill the time as you tried to make your own miracle happen.

Daemon studies your expression closely. He tilts your head up and down, and then gives you a patronizing little pat on the cheek.

“Fine.” He spits out. “Pray. Only a few minutes, not a second more.”

You walk past him, intent on going back to the tower where a statue of the Mother stands. You watch his face carefully when you pass by him, worried he is only toying with you and has no true intention of allowing you to pray in solitude. But he doesn’t stop you.

You make your way to the highest tower, kneel by the feet of the statue and weep. Your weakness only lasts you a moment because when you lift your gaze, you catch sight of a green standard approaching the gates.

Could that be..?

“Are you done?” Daemon asks, from behind the closed door. You can hear the drag of steel against steel, and picture him in your mind’s eye. Taking Dark Sister out of her sheath, face full of bloodlust.

“Just a minute more.” You beg, watching the rider stop at the gates and being allowed in by the guards. “Don’t kill me, please! Not yet!” You cry out, as loud as you can, hoping your voice carries.

Daemon bursts in, Dark Sister held by his side. His smile is cold, his face the image of calm. One would never guess he is about to kill someone by watching his expression. You notice the dagger he carries at his hip, but do not dare to try to take it. Not when Dark Sister’s reach is much longer.

“Oh, spare me the hysterics. More prayer will not spare you.” He lunges at you, and you evade him, but there are only so many places one can run to in a small room. Daemon catches you by wrapping your braid in his hand, giving you a harsh tug that makes you tumble down. You scream.

“Shut up. Seven Hells, quiet.” Daemon places the sword at your throat. “You will…”

The door is thrown open by a kick, the loud bang startling him and making his grip falter.

“She will do nothing.” Gwayne says, firmly. You can see Alicent standing behind him, wrenching her hands together. You have never been more grateful to see them. “Or I’ll gut you like a fish.”

“Oh?” Daemon shoves you. You do not fight his push, laying limply on the floor. He turns towards Gwayne, sword no longer focused on you. “You think you can beat me, boy?”

Gwayne cannot. He had lost to him in a tourney not even six months before. You do not hesitate. You grab the dagger at Daemon’s hip and stab him in the stomach, hard. And you do it again, and again, until your hands and face are covered in blood, and Daemon does no longer move.

You look up at your siblings, then. Alicent’s face is horrified, but when she senses your eyes on her, she smooths down her expression. Gwayne watches with vague interest. At some point, he seems to have taken Dark Sister from Daemon’s hand because he now holds it.

The three of you stare at each other. The blood on your hands is rapidly cooling and turning sticky. You wipe your hands on your dress.

You had thought you would feel something if you killed another person. Instead, you only feel numb. Empty. Daemon is gone, and so are his things. His kisses, his threats, the monster that lurked beneath.

It’s Alcent who first speaks, face pale. “The red room. We need to get to work.”

By the end of it, it is as if he never came home at all. The three of you hug, on the brink of tears. Another string tied you now, beyond the sibling bond. The man you had murdered, and the duty to forget him.

[bey0nd-1he-stars]

The Aftermath - Aegon II Targaryen x sister!reader

Masterlists

Pairing: Aegon II Targaryen x sister!reader

Warnings: Murder, crying, mentions of a child's remains, violence, shouting

Wordcount: 1772

Summary: You're the youngest daughter of Viserys Targaryen and after the events of blood and cheese, you comfort your oldest brother Aegon through his pain and despair.

Sorrow and pain flooded through your veins as you walked across the Red keep, frantically pushing through the masses of guards and servants being pushed around to be searched. 

Jaehaerys had been killed. The little boy you called nephew that ran laps around you just earlier today had been murdered in cold blood in his own bed. And your poor sister Helaena had been the one to point him out, held at knifepoint and made to choose between her own children and her life. You’d heard it from your mother Alicent and you’d been quick to pull your sister into a hug, holding both her and Jaehaera in a tight embrace. 

Now you were on your way to find Aegon, you older brother, and father of your late nephew. On your way you bumped into Aemond and through the tears in your eyes you’d made a hasty apology and hurried off after he gave you a reassuring nod and a low hum. 

The doors to Aegon’s chambers were halfway open and you heard him long before you saw him. He was shouting and screaming, and when you turned the corner and froze in the door you saw him standing with the firefork in his hands grasped like a sword. Your father’s work of Kinglanding in miniature was halfway smashed to bits and Aegon’s wild, red rimmed eyes were glossed over. 

“This is war!” He shouted, hitting the stone statues Viserys had built, making pieces of it fly in the air. 

“I declare war!” More pieces flew and one of the guards turned to the door, intending to shut it close, and he met your gaze. A mix between relief and chock washed over his face and you gestured for both of them to leave, stepping aside in the doorway. They met each other’s gaze and then nodded to you and to Aegon, then walked out. 

The broken boy in front of you had gone quiet when he noticed the guards leaving and his gaze trailed after them as they left and when they passed you, his focus shifted. The tears welled up in his eyes and he heaved a heavy breath as you shut the doors and stepped closer to him. 

“My- my little son-“ he cried, tears welling over and falling down his cheeks and you crossed the floor and wrapped him up in your arms, holding him close and pressing his head to your shoulder. And Aegon sobbed. He wrapped his arms around your waist, the firefork falling to the floor with an echoing clatter, and surrendered to the pain that was ripping his chest open. You buried one hand in his hair and the other held him across the back, pressing him into you with such vigor that Aegon could almost imagine he was standing upright again, the strength and comfort you radiated keeping him together a bit. 

“I know,” you gasped, sobbing as well. The tears fell from your eyes and down into Aegon’s hair but neither of you cared. “I’m so sorry, Aegon, I’m so, so sorry.” 

“He- I should’ve- I-,” his own sobs and hiccups cut him off and he trembled in your arms. The sounds of his cries tore your heart into pieces but all you could do was hold him. 

Jaehaerys was Aegon’s pride and happiness. He hadn’t found it in his marriage to your sister, neither had he found it in his duty as king. Not even the brothels and the filled cups of wine could ever grant him happiness. Numbness, yes. Happiness? No. 

But Jaehaerys and Jaehaera, that was something clean and pure. Something innocent that came from Aegon. He was proud to be their father. His son was his legacy, and he’d been taken away from him. Ripped out of his arms never to return. 

His children, even if he didn’t get to spend a lot of time with them, had always been the best part of his days. He’d sit down on the floor or in the gardens, indulging in their little games and plays. Helaena often sat a few feet away embroidering and more often than not, you’d join in too, hanging out with your niece and nephew. Sometimes, even Aemond would join you, were you in the gardens. He’d sit down on a bench or beneath the white tree of the godswood to read, but every time he always ended up playing with the children. 

It was some of the most treasured moments of your life and no doubt Aegon’s too. 

Jaehaerys had been all the good Aegon wasn’t. Pure as the driven snow, innocent and beautiful. A living spectacle, and for the first time in Aegon’s life he felt true, complete and utter devotion and love. 

His knees buckled under him but you just pressed him closer, holding him to you and gently rocking back and forth, both of you crying. 

“I- what did- what did I do to deserve this?” He questioned quietly through the sobs. He pulled away slightly to wipe his tears and nose. You met his eyes, deep blue, almost colored purple by his sorrow. 

With gentle hands you cup his face in your palms, his hands still holding you tight around your middle, pressing your bodies close. 

“You didn’t,” you shake your head, sniffling and wiping away his tears with your thumbs. “You did not deserve this, Aegon.” His lower lip trembles and he pulls it between his teeth, biting down on it for a second and then he buries his face against your shoulder again, crying until he can’t anymore. 

A heavy knock comes from the door but when Aegon mumbles a quiet “come”, still bundled up in your arms, no one enters. Instead a voice tells him his council requests his attendance through the closed doors and then footsteps that are leaving. Aegon looks at you, eyes swollen and red rimmed. He starts shaking his head but you shush him and give him a nod, quietly telling him he needs to go. 

He knows you’re right but it takes him a few minutes and a whole lot of willpower to pull himself away from you. He manages two steps away from you before he turns around again, quietly reaching out for you with trembling hands and pulling you with him. 

His guards walk both of you to the council chamber and you stop outside the doors but he quickly pulls you with him again, up the short set of stairs to the grand table in the middle. Your mother and grandsire are already there, as well as Ser Criston, Lord Tyland Lannister, Lord Jasper Wylde and Grand Maester Orwyle. The only one missing is Lord Larys Strong, but you assume he’s been tasked with finding the culprit as the master of whisperers. 

Aegon finally lets you go as you sit down on the seat assigned to the master of ships. Your mother gives you a questioning look with her red rimmed doe eyes but you only give her an affirmative nod. 

“And where were the members of this council when the murderers threatened their king?” He questions as he walks the long side of the table to get to his seat. 

“Were you also threatened, my king?” Someone asks. You’re not familiar enough with the members of the council to know who, and your eyes are locked sorely on Aegon. 

“I could have been!” He snaps, grabbing a chalice and throwing it on the floor, a million tiny pieces of glass shatter at your feet. Aegon’s eyes meet yours as he looks up from the mess he’s made but you hold no judgment for him. You understand his anger and his acts of violence. They’re not aimed at anyone, maybe himself. He takes a shout at Ser Criston as well, throwing another cup across the room. 

You sit quietly, watching the chaos unfold, but never once can you take your eyes from the broken boy in front of you who, in his desperation and grief, has to handle matters no parent should ever have to deal with after losing a child. Especially not in the way your siblings lost theirs. 

The telltale sound of Lord Larys with his cast on his foot and his cane has you turning around, averting your gaze from Aegon for the first time since you entered the council room. He gives you a nod, and you acknowledge it with a slight smile despite your wet cheeks and tearfilled eyes. 

“You grace, if I may,” he begins and it gets impossibly quiet as everyone turns to him. At his words that they’ve found the man who’s done it with the child’s head in a sack, you’re almost gagging and you turn away from him, meeting Alicent’s eyes and she looks just as torn apart as you feel. 

After that, you zone out. Your eyes are locked on Aegon but your mind isn’t with you. You can only hear the astounding suggestions your grandsire, the hand, makes and your heart is tearing at the seams when you think about it. Your gaze flickers to Alicent again and she has to stand from her stool, turning her back to the table for a second. When you look back to Aegon he meets your eyes with a burning desperation and despair, and all you want to do is grab him and get him out of there. You can see how suffocating the room is for him as he claws at the armrest on his chair. 

“Mother?” Is his only reply to the suggestions, a desperate attempt to get some kind of council and comfort from the one he needs it the most. But your mother’s only response is the one he doesn’t want to hear. 

At that you order everyone out. Otto begins to object but Aegon snaps at him, telling him to leave at once and he only bows and strides out. Alicent gives you both one last look over her shoulder before she exits and the guards shut the doors. 

“I’m so sorry,” is the first thing that tumbles out of your mouth. He’s sitting slumped back into his chair and you slowly raise from yours and walk to him. 

“Aegon, I- I’m so incredibly sorry,” you tell him gently, placing yourself in front of him, half sitting on the table. He doesn’t respond, he only falls forward into you, resting his head in your lap, and as he only does with you, he lets go, giving into it all; the pain, the sorrow, the burdens and the duties, leaving behind the heavy crown, and he cries.

[thisgirlnamedblusy]

Hi! I really like your Donna x reader fanfics, they are super!!. I wanted to ask if you could write a fanfic where the reader is Donna's secret admirer. She constantly leaves gifts near her house. Donna wanted to know who this mysterious person is, so she decided to set up an ambush. And then one day, when the reader brings another gift, Donna comes out of nowhere and catches the reader. The reader in turn was very scared, she thought that Donna killed her, but instead Donna invited her for tea, to which the reader agreed. They chatted, talked about their interests and so on. Donna meanwhile began to have feelings for the reader. And one day, during a conversation with the reader, Donna began to ask questions about love. The reader was surprised by the questions, but still answered them. Suddenly there is a moment of silence. The two girls looked into each other's eyes and at that moment they kissed.

I'm not forcing you. Have a nice day

Yessss!!!! Thank you for your kindness and your request!!! I hope you like it and sorry about the laguage mistakes!!!! :)))))

Get to know me?

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem! Reader

Warnings: fluff, Donna being Donna, Donna's POV

Word count: 8,050

Summary: A secret admirer? Nonsense...

N/A: Sorry about the language mistakes!!! Requests are open!!! I'm waiting yours!!! I love you all!!! :))

“Alcina is right, you need a maid,” Angie commented as we walked silently back to the house.

I never liked meetings, or masses, or anything that had to do with approaching trembling crowds that feared the sight of us. My siblings never cared, I even think they enjoyed the terror they instilled in the villagers. Not me. I was just doing my duty to return to my solitude, to my quiet and secluded life.

“Sciocchezze,” I murmured, shaking my head.

“It's not nonsense, Donna, I agree with her,” the doll said, moving nervously in my arms. “That way I would have someone to scare.”

“That's all you want, isn't it? Someone to play with,” I said, annoyed by her insistence.

“Mm, well, not exactly, besides, I think you could use some company,” my doll said, making me roll my eye. “You're very boring.”

“Boring? Oh, are you bored with me, Angie?” I asked, crossing the boundaries of my territory. “Maybe if I deactivate you, you won't be bored.”

“Hey!” Angie mocked, shaking her head, making me smile. “But it’s hard to spend every day with the boring part of my conscience.”

“What?” I asked. “You're part of my conscience, not me of yours,” I said, walking faster.

“Yeah, whatever,” the puppet sighed.

Of course, if it weren't for Angie, I don't know what would have become of me. I have a lot to thank her for, but I hated it when she tried to get into my life.

“Do you want me to make another companion for you?” I asked after a few moments of silence.

“An inert doll with a stupid face? No, thanks,” Angie said, laughing sarcastically. “But Donna, I'm just saying that with a maid, maybe you… Hey! Look at that!” she said, shouting and suddenly pointing at the path.

“Mm?” I murmured, approaching the indicated area.

Something seemed to stand out the white snow. I approached slowly, looking around, until I could see what it was. It looked like a package, something wrapped like a gift. I have to admit that it aroused my curiosity.

Slowly, setting Angie down on the ground, I bent down to pick it up. It was a gift, no doubt, decorated with a striking red bow. I looked at it suspiciously and shook it… Caution was never enough.

I was a Lord, but that didn't mean I was appreciated by the villagers, quite the opposite.

“What is it?” Angie asked, looking at the small box. “What is it, Donna?”

“I-I don't know,” I said confused, searching for the opening and gently removing the bow. “Angie, it's not one of your jokes, is it?”

“Oh, you're accusing me again, huh?” the doll said, with her hands on her hips. “How can it be my doing? I've been with you all day.”

“Mm,” I murmured, undoing the fragile paper that wrapped it, discovering beneath it what looked like a box of chocolates. “Una sactola di cioccolatini?”

“Let's see, let's see,” Angie said, jumping on the floor while I handed her the mysterious gift. “How much chocolate, Donna.”

“Ma, ma… who could have…?” I said, scratching the back of my neck while Angie seemed to have fun looking at the box. “I-Is this a joke?”

“Who would want to come here to play a joke like this on you?” the doll asked, handing me the box again. “No one is that stupid.”

“Mm” I murmured, walking quickly with a grunt. “Cazzo…”

“Hey, hey, wait for me, Donna!” Angie yelled, following my steps as best she could.

I finally arrived at the mansion, my only refuge in that sinister village.

“Hold it,” I said to Angie, handing her the chocolates while I took off my veil and walked over to the phone.

“Who are you calling?” Angie asked, carrying the box onto the table, opening the plastic that covered it. “Look, there are all kinds of flavours.”

“Don't touch them,” I warned as I dialled the number, breathing quickly, annoyed by this pointless joke.

“Dimitrescu Castle…” my sister's tired and always seductive voice spoke from the other end.

“Alcina, it's me, Donna,” I said with a low voice, uncomfortable for using it.

“Donna? Darling, it's a pleasure to hear your voice… you should do it more often…” she said with a mocking, quiet laugh. “Did you forget something at the cathedral? Or are you calling because you've run out of wine?”

“No,” I said dryly, glancing at Angie, who was curiously exploring the sweets. “What are you up to? I found them.”

“I'm sorry, dear, but I'm afraid I have no idea what you're talking about,” Alcina said, still laughing softly. “What did you find?”

“The chocolates... I don't know what you were thinking,” I said, with a slightly nervous tone. “You're the only one who knows that I like them.”

“Chocolates?” she asked again, with a puzzled tone. “I don't...”

“Cut the crap, I know what your daughters did to Mr. Priscu; they sent him a box of sweets because his daughter liked them and I also know that he had to stay in bed for two weeks because he got very sick,” I said, clenching my fist tightly. “Do you think I look stupid?”

“Honestly, Donna, I don't know, I've never seen you face,” my sister said, amused. “Besides, you shouldn't make accusations like that. My daughters love you; they would never do something like that to you just for fun.”

“Oh, really?” I said impatiently, breathing heavily.

“Mm…” Alcina murmured. “Excuse me, dear… Bela, Cassandra, Daniela! Come here right now!”

“Oddio…” I protested, moving the phone away from my ear.

“My daughters… Did you play a prank on Aunt Donna!?” my sister shrieked. “No, mother…” the trio of vampires could be heard saying. “If you're lying to me, I… We promise you, mother, we haven't done anything…”

“Hey, Donna, look at this,” Angie said, tugging at my dress to get my attention. “It was stuck to the side of the box,” she said, showing me a perfectly folded piece of paper.

“Mm?” I murmured, extending my hand to pick it up and looking at it curiously.

“Well, you've seen that my daughters had nothing to do with it... So... someone sent you chocolates? That's news...” said Alcina, distracting me.

“Yes, I...” I stammered, blinking confused. “I...”

“Did I hear that they came with a note? Why don't you read it?” Alcina asked, amused. “What's wrong, mother?...Someone sent chocolates to your aunt... Oh, oh, who?”

“Ugh...” I sighed, hanging up the phone and calming my nerves. “Basta...”

“Read it, Donna,” Angie said, climbing onto the table and looking at the paper impatiently. “Come on, come on, come on.”

“V-Va bene,” I said somewhat nervously, unfolding the paper with trembling hands.

I hope you like my gift as much as I like looking at you

That's what the note said, in an elegant, mysterious handwriting. I read it several times, turning the note over looking for some clue of its origin, but to no avail.

“What does this mean?” I asked myself, running a hand over my forehead. “A-Angie, what…?”

“Oh, how interesting,” the doll said, taking the piece of paper and comically making the same gestures as me. “Who is it from?”

“How would I know?” I said, shaking my head and snatching the note from her. “I'm sure it's a joke.”

“Maybe it’s not,” the doll hummed. “Maybe someone likes you.”

“You've said a lot of stupid things over the years, but that was the biggest one,” I said, sighing and shaking my head. “They're probably poisoned.”

“Why would someone send you a note like that with poisoned chocolates? So I'm the one who says stupid things,” Angie said, getting down from the table with a mocking gesture. “I'm telling you that someone likes you.”

“That's impossible,” I said in a whisper, looking away from the sweets. “Well, we better forget about this matter and…”

“Forget about it? It's the most interesting thing that's happened to you in years,” the doll said, climbing onto my lap and shaking me by the shoulders. “And you're just going to leave it like that?”

“That's just what I'm going to do,” I said, closing the box and crumpling the paper in my hands, letting it fall to the floor.

I sighed again, looking at the crumpled note and, rolling my eye again, bent down to pick it up with an annoyed grunt.

“W-Well, I guess I could keep this,” I said, smoothing out the paper, looking closely at each of the letters. “If I find out who it was…”

“Oh, what are you going to do?” Angie said, looking at me intensely

“He'll pay dearly for it,” I said, crossing my arms. “If what he intended was to make me nervous…”

“He succeeded, huh?” Angie finished, mockingly tilting her head.

“No, shut up,” I said in a murmur, picking up the box and putting it on top of a shelf.

“What if it's not a joke?” Angie said, making me sigh. “What if some boy likes you?”

“Angie, forget about it,” I said with a brusque gesture. “B-Besides, you know that I'm not… interested in boys.”

“It might be a girl's,” the doll commented, sitting on the table, swinging her legs in a childish way. “If it were… would you change your mind?”

“My mind?”  I asked with an unpleasant gesture. “No, she will pay dearly for it. Nobody laughs at me.”

“At this rate you will never get a girlfriend,” Angie said, with a dark tone.

“I don't need a girlfriend, I don't want a girlfriend, I'm not interested, is that clear?” I said nervously, but completely sincere. “For your own sake keep your mouth shut, or there will be consequences.”

“You're so weird, Donna,” Angie sighed, getting down from the table with an offensive gesture. “Boring!”

“Angie…” I growled furiously. “Stop… getting into my life,” I said with a sad look. “This has never happened.”

“Oh, my Donna, if I don't care about you… who will?” the puppet said, walking away from me. “Maybe your secret admirer will…”

“Taci!” I screamed angrily, clenching my fists on either side of my hips. “I don’t need anyone to worry about me… a-and anyone to send me chocolates… or whatever…” I stammered unintentionally, glancing at the box. “This is unbelievable… Come on, Angie, I have to work on my dolls…”

I tried to forget about the whole chocolate thing, but it was practically impossible.

My life was always a sad passage of misfortunes, tears and tragedies. Ever since I was a little girl, I refused to waste time talking to the people around me, I felt like no one could understand me, that all they did was look at my wounded eye, not at me.

I thought that maybe, just maybe, the fact that Mother Miranda had pity on me, accepting me as her daughter, offering me the gift of the Gods, would change something, but I was wrong.

Nothing changed apart from my already deformed face. Everything that was human in me disappeared, leaving behind a horrible scar. Being ashamed of my appearance was only one of the effects of that change, but not the only one. Luckily, or because I really was as alone and sick as my family liked to say, I was able to do something to remedy that dark void that had always been my life.

Thanks to Miranda and the Gods, I was able to turn my best friend, the only one who hadn’t abandoned me, my Angie doll, into something resembling a companion. I couldn't say how far her independence went, what exactly her mentality was like, if she had one, and if I did...

She was the complete opposite of me, and she was me at the same time. If I think about it carefully, I realize that, indeed, nothing changed after I stopped being the Beneviento girl to Lady Beneviento. I was always alone, I will always be alone.

I hardly thought about what my life would be like if I lost my fear, if I abandoned my black dress and veil and tried to be a little more like my siblings, a little more… less me. It was useless. A horrible monster, the dark lady of the dolls… That was a good summary of what the villagers thought of me.

Fear wasn’t respect, I didn't want respect, nor fear, I didn't want appreciation, nor love. I didn't want anything, I didn't know what love was, I didn't want to know. I was fine alone, with my dolls, with Angie… anything that distorted that peaceful solitude was nothing but a nuisance to me.

I never needed anyone. I never loved anyone, not even myself. Some people might think it was a sad life, but it wasn't exactly like that. What awaited me was an eternity of loneliness and darkness, and in time, I learned to accept it.

That incident with the chocolates didn't change my routine, but Angie's words stuck in my head.

“Mm…” I hummed quietly, with my mind focused on my little porcelain friends. They were always silent, they didn't bother me, they didn't talk, they didn't judge me… “That's it. You're a beautiful doll, aren't you? Mm, what eyes do you want me to give you?”

“I know I'm beautiful, you don't have to tell me,” Angie interrupted, laughing amused, to which I frowned, shaking my head.

“You should learn to enjoy silence, Angie,”  I whispered, putting the doll on the table and studying its inert expression.

“And you should learn to relate to human beings,” the puppet mocked, laughing shyly, to get me off. “I like you more than chocolates…” she sighed, moving her hands exaggeratedly. “Hahahaha, how nice.”

“I told you I didn't want to talk about it again!” I squealed nervously at the doll's insistence. “Shut up or get out!”

“Oh, what a mood…” Angie protested, without moving from her spot. “You should eat one of the chocolates and…” she said, but, surely seeing my expression, she decided to stop making fun of me, for a moment. “Okay, I'll be good.”

“That's better,” I whispered, shaking my head and pointing at some paint cans. “Verde,” I murmured to the doll, who obeyed instantly.

“Green… green… I don't see it,” Angie said, with a calmer voice, but equally irritating.

“It has to be there, look better,” I said in a low voice, cleaning the imperfections of the porcelain.

“There's no green, Donna, paint them another color, I have a blue here that would be…” the puppet commented.

“No,” I said sternly. “I said verde.”

“And I told you there's no green, silly Donna,” Angie said, crossing her arms. “Why green?”

“Because I said so…” I hissed, more upset than usual.

I didn't like leaving the estate. Meetings with my family made me too nervous and… well, there was also the issue of chocolates. It was always difficult for me to control my madness, the trembling of my hands, the voices in my head. But that day was especially difficult, and Angie didn't help.

“Well, there isn't any,” the doll said.

“Look for it well, damn it!” I screamed furiously, hitting the table hard. “They have to be green, do you hear me? Verde!”

“Hey, what's wrong with you?” Angie said, getting down from the table, surely scared by my attitude.

“Forgive me, Angie…” I finally said, managing to calm down, to remedy the voices of my madness. “It's not a good day.”

“I see…” the doll said, walking towards me with a cautious attitude. “Why don't we go see the fat man for some paint? Maybe you could use some fresh air.”

“Angie… going back to the village is the last thing I need right now,” I said, running a hand over my forehead.

“What do you need?” she asked, looking at me intensely, resting a wooden hand on my back. “You know I would do anything for you, my Donna.”

“I-I know,” I said with a sad smile, letting the doll hug me. “Y-You know what? Maybe you're right and a… a walk will clear my mind.”

“Yes, yes! Let's go see the fat man,” she said, laughing amused and rubbing her hands.

I couldn't say why I accepted the offer so easily. My mind was somewhat dazed and confused. The box of chocolates was still in my head, as was that absurd note. Luckily, Angie listened to my pleas and put the subject aside. Surely she knew I was thinking about it.

The village was empty as always. Sometimes I imagined how it was a few minutes ago, if there were people on the streets, quiet people, with a quiet life, who ran away when they saw me appear.

It was hard for me to imagine a lonely village. Yes, surely everyone hid when they saw me…

“Hello, hello… Duke, Duke?” Angie called at the door of the warehouse where that greedy fat man used to be most of the time. “Hellooooooo. Hey, maybe he's not here and…”

The door opened slowly, but it wasn't a greedy fat man who appeared behind it, but a young woman... well, I had to admit that the first adjective that came to mind was simple and even vulgar: beautiful.

She seemed like a shy girl, or so her overly formal smile told me, one that slowly mutated into a look of surprise when she recognized me.

“La-Lady Beneviento,” the girl murmured, backing away, scared, as expected. “Oh, I...”

“W-Who are you?” Angie asked, imitating the girl's voice while laughing.

“I, I'm...Oh, how did you know that...? I mean, I didn't know that... that you... that I...” she said, visibly nervous, something that made me frown behind my veil and tilt my head curiously. “I mean, well, I'm sure you're asking me for an explanation, but...”

“What are you talking about, you silly, silly?” Angie asked, with part of my voice in her words. “Where is the fat man?”

“The Duke? Oh, of course… er… Are you looking for the Duke?” the villager asked, lowering her gaze.

“Of course, stupid, why else would we come here?” Angie said, pointing at her awkwardly. “To see you?”

“Well, maybe,” she murmured, clearing her throat and looking at me briefly, with that terrified spark that the villagers' eyes kept when they saw me. “But…”

“(Y/N)” a petulant voice appeared in the place. “Please don't keep Lady Beneviento waiting,” the Duke said from inside the building.

“Y-Yes, of course,” she said, bowing quickly and inviting us in.

I walked slowly, keeping my eye on hers. She was certainly a beautiful girl, very beautiful. I followed her with my gaze as she ran to the back of the store. She probably didn't realize I could see her but… she glanced at me quickly before pretending to search for something on a table.

“Do me a favor, continue with the Ionescu's order while I attend to this distinguished client…” the fat man said, pointing at some objects on that table, making the girl nod obediently. “Anyway…”

“Since when do you work with fools?” Angie asked, pointing at the young woman, who seemed to struggle not to look back at me.

“This job is complicated, Miss Angie, I needed some help,” the Duke said, with his perfectly rehearsed business pose. “Miss (Y/N) needed the job and… well… you know how generous I am.”

“Is this a joke?” Angie mocked, as I stared at the young woman, who seemed to be wrapping some boxes.

I thought that leaving my house might clear my thoughts, but it did the opposite. Those red bows… they looked too familiar. It looked like the same kind of bow that was on the box of chocolates. I stared at her, without her noticing, and after a few seconds, I shook my head.

I was starting to go crazy, seeing coincidences where there were none. My imagination, my madness, was always about that, never about reality. I had to relax.

“Donna!” Angie shrieked, snapping me out of my absurd thoughts. “Are you here? Should I tell the fat man what we want?”

“Please,” the merchant said, briefly looking where my eye was pointing. “Are you interested in anything you see, my lady?”

“Green, green paint, we want green paint,” Angie said, dominated by my control, in a stern, dark voice.  

“Oh, of course… (Y/N), please…” the merchant said, gesturing with his hand.

“H-Here it is,” the girl said, with the jar already in her hands, slowly approaching me. “This color… my… my lady?”

I extended my free hand towards her and when it made contact with the paint, hers immediately disappeared, with a nervous gasp. Slowly, checking that it was the right color, I nodded.

“Oh, you're fast, silly,” Angie said, with an amused voice.

“If she weren't, she wouldn't be working for me,” the Duke commented, looking satisfied at his assistant. “I've been lucky.”

“Yes, yes, yes, come on, tell us how much,” the doll said, gesturing with her hand to quickly end the conversation. “And I hope you don't try to rip us off.”

“I would never dare, my lady,” the man said, knowing our dynamic, knowing that, although Angie was talking, it was I who was actually doing it. That fat bastard knew too much. “It’ll be… one hundred lei.”

“Here,” Angie said, as I handed him a bag of coins, briefly turning my gaze to the girl, who stood back, nervous.

“It’s a pleasure, as always,” he said, losing interest in us to check the money.

“Yes, yes, yes, yes, whatever you say,” Angie said, as I started to walk out of the store. “Hey, silly! Bye!”

“B-Bye…”  (Y/N) sighed, her voice weak.

On the one hand, I would have liked to know more about that secret admirer, that mysterious person who left me that gift. On the other hand, I felt relieved with the passage of time, with that overwhelming normality that returned to my life.

I stopped giving it importance. I learned to forget about that exit from routine to return to my beloved dolls, to my solitary life, to the refuge of the mansion walls. I couldn't help but think about that hidden person, that idiot who thought it was a good idea to play with me.

Sometimes, at night, I played at imagining who it was, if it was a disgusting villager, or maybe a beautiful woman. I would like to say that I didn't think about her too, about that girl who worked for the Duke, but I would lie.

A stupid villager, a beautiful woman... My thoughts began to wander between those two topics. (Y/N), and the person who said he or she liked me. Definitely, although it was hard for me to admit it, my life had changed, but I didn't know exactly how.

“Let's see if you can guess what I'm looking at…” Angie hummed as we strolled through the grounds.

Mysteriously, leaving the mansion was becoming easier and easier for me, but of course, it had nothing to do with that admirer, nothing, really…

“Mm, a tree,” I said, looking around, enjoying this walk through my lonely lands.

“Oh, no, no… you're wrong, silly Donna, what I see is… a bouquet of flowers?” Angie said, standing still in the snow, catching my attention.

“Cosa? Flowers?” I asked with tender curiosity, adoring that childish side of the doll. “Angie…”

“Yes, yes, yes… look, Donna, there,” the doll said, jumping in the snow and pointing to the end of the bridge that separated me from the villagers.

Sure enough, there was something.

I approached nervously, at the prominent sight of a perfect red bow surrounding some colorful flowers. Carefully, I bent down to pick it up.

“But… this?” I asked myself, looking at the bouquet with curiosity. “What is this?”

“I already told you, a bouquet of flowers,” Angie said, approaching me. “Oh, oh, oh, oh, is it from your secret admirer?”

“Are you still thinking that nonsense?” I asked annoyed, touching the delicate petals of those flowers. “I already told you that…”

“You can say whatever you want, I know what you think. You haven’t stopped leaving the mansion every day, surely to see if you could find something…” the puppet said, pointing at me accusingly.

“I-it's not true,” I said in a more childish tone than I would have liked, kicking the snowy ground and tightly gripping the bouquet.

“Say what you want,” Angie said, climbing up my clothes to look at the bouquet more closely. “Is there a note?”

“Um, I don't know,” I said murmuring, enthralled by the beauty of those flowers. “Wait, here...”

With a delicate gesture, I took a small envelope that was stuck to the bouquet, opening it with trembling hands.

“What does it say?” Angie asked, fidgeting impatiently in my arms.

I hope you liked the chocolates. I was looking at these flowers, and they seemed appropriate for a woman as beautiful as you.

“This doesn't make sense...” I murmured, reading the note over and over again. “That I'm beautiful? I was sure it was a joke...”

“Why?” Angie asked, grabbing the note roughly, snatching it from my hands.

“No one has seen my face, Angie, at least not someone who isn’t… too old,” I explained, tightly gripping the bouquet and looking around, hoping to find some trace of that unpleasant joker.

“What does that have to do with them thinking you’re beautiful? You are,” the doll said, clinging to me, probably because of my quick pace. “Hey, don’t run so fast!”

“T-this doesn’t make any sense,” I said nervously, slamming the door shut and throwing the flowers onto the hall table. “Don’t you understand, Angie? It’s a joke, a bad joke.”

“Well… you look nervous,” the doll mocked, climbing onto the table, where I kept the previous note. “Look, look, the handwriting matches, it’s from the same person.”

“That doesn't clear anything up for me,” I sighed, running a hand over my forehead, comparing the two notes. “There's no clue, and do you know why? Because it's a…” I couldn't finish the sentence, as a wooden hand covered my mouth.

“You and I both know it's not a joke… stop pretending you don't care,” Angie, with a tone that was too understanding for her. “You're nervous, irascible and erratic, more than usual,”

“Of course I am,” I said, sitting down in the rocking chair and rubbing my eye. “Angie, there's someone out there who's laughing at me.”

“Or there's someone out there who finds you interesting…” the doll corrected. “Why do you have to be so pessimistic?”

“I have no reason not to be,” I sighed, looking at the two pieces of paper. “Mm, the handwriting is elegant and rounded. It doesn't look like… a boy's, does it?” I said to myself.

“Would you like it to be a pretty girl?” Angie said, tilting her head in a playful way, making me laugh.

“W-Well, if it's true that there's someone who… who admires me… I'd like it to be,” I said with a smile, looking at the bouquet of flowers. “Look, they're beautiful, aren't they? They smell wonderful.”

“Oh, Donna… You're blushing,” the doll said, pointing at my face, which I covered with my hands.

“What? I, I don't believe in… those things…” I said, lowering my head, leaving the flowers on the table. “They're just fairy tales.”

“Oh, wouldn't you like to live one?” the doll asked, with a confident tone. “It seems that that mysterious person would like it.”

“Don't talk nonsense…”  I sighed, shaking my head. “For me, those stories don't exist, Angie.”

“Well, I'd say... I see you smiling,” Angie whispered in my ear, making me blush again. “What are you going to do?”

“What? Oh, I... n-nothing,” I said frowning and waking up from some kind of impossible fantasy that my sick head was starting to create. “I-I guess nothing.”

“Nothing? Please, Donna,” the doll said, grabbing me by the shoulders. “You have to do something.”

“What? I have no way of knowing who... oh, no, no, no look, I confess that it intrigues me and... I feel, I feel things... but, what if it's not how I expected? What if it really is a joke?” I said somewhat nervously, with a cold sweat running down my neck. “It's better to leave it be.”

“Mm, come on, I have an idea,” Angie said, getting off my lap and motioning for me to come closer.

The puppet climbed up the phone table, starting to dial an unknown number. My hands started to shake.

“Hey, che cavolo sati facendo?” I asked, grabbing the phone in my hand.

“I’m just trying to help. I’d like to know what to do, but… I’m just a doll, after all,” Angie said, in a defensive pose. “It’s better to ask the professionals for advice.”

“Professionals? What…?” I muttered, blinking in confusion.

“Dimitrescu Castle…” a voice came from the other end, a tired, deep voice, my sister Alcina’s.

“Oh, um…” I said nervously, trying to scold Angie by knocking her off the table. “Alcina?”

“Donna?” she asked. “Dear, it’s always a pleasure to hear that beautiful voice… Or is Angie playing with the phone again?”

“Yes, no, um…” I said nervously, sighing exhausted, with my cheeks… red with embarrassment. “Yes, I think I need to talk to you.”

“Mm, I'm listening, dear, it's not usual for you to tell me something like that,” my sister said, amused. “What is it this time? Have you thought better about the maid?”

“No,” I said with a dry voice, lowering the volume little by little. “Um… I suppose I can tell you… Let's keep it between us.”

“Oh, yes, of course,” three shrill voices made me move away and almost hang up the phone. “Girls!” Alcina shrieked. “No spying!… okay, mother…” a dull sound indicated that the sisters had stopped listening. “Speak, dear, we're alone…”

I was nervous, but little by little, I managed to tell my sister the situation. Alcina listened attentively to my story, but I don't know if she was really pretending to listen to me. Nobody cared about me, not even my siblings.

“I see,” she sighed, laughing amused. “Donna, are you going to do anything?”

“That's why I'm calling you. I-I don't know what to do... I...” I murmured, looking at Angie out of the corner of my eye.

“Easy, bella...” said the lady in white, amused. “From what you've told me, I see a pattern in these gifts.”

“A pattern?”

“Mm, well, it's been just a week, right? What tells you that in seven days there won't be another little gift waiting for you?” my sister said, making me think.

“I hadn't thought about it,” I sighed, shaking my head.

“That's your perfect opportunity to clear up your doubts. Set an ambush for that little bird, I can't believe it hadn't occurred to you before,” Alcina said, in a honeyed voice.

“T-That's right, I have, I have to clear up my doubts,” I said, biting my lower lip, with my heart beating especially fast. “T-Thank you, Alcina…”

“No thanks, dear… I hope you'll keep me up to date,” she said, laughing mockingly. “That's it! Tell us everything!” the three sisters shouted into the phone. “Damn it… I told you to hang up the phone! You are…!”

I didn't let her continue talking. I simply hung up the phone nervously.

An ambush, a trap. It seemed too easy. I would have to wait seven days to find out what was behind those mysterious gifts.

My heart was always fragile. If I didn't find what I was expecting, that daring vermin would regret it forever.

The days passed slowly, too slowly. My demons, my fantasies, my fears danced in my head… Nightmares, sweet dreams… I began to lose my mind, to take out my frustrations on Angie, to count the hours, the minutes I had left to get out of my doubts.

Finally, luckily, the day arrived.

“How much longer are we going to be here, Donna?” Angie protested, pulling at my dress as we hid behind the ruins of what was once… my territory.

“Shh, shut up,” I said in a low voice looking at the deserted bridge, hoping to see something, anything, not to feel like I had wasted my time, for those strange illusions to suddenly disappear. “Just a little longer.”

“We've been here for hours,” the doll said, in a childish tone. “I'm going to freeze.”

“You're a doll, you don't feel the cold,” I said, with my gaze fixed on the road, without losing patience.

“I don't, but you do,” said the puppet. “Brr… Oh, wait, wait, look, look Donna, there.”

The doll pointed at a shadow that began to move the bridge, crossing it slowly. The cold was intense, yes, but among the mist and the snow I began to distinguish a walking figure. It was not a disgusting villager, some disturbed person, or a group of children wanting to play a joke.

The figure took the form of a woman, a young woman. No, not a woman, it was a girl. A girl with a slender but sad body, who walked slowly along the swinging bridge.

“Non può essere…” I murmured when her face became visible.

I recognized her instantly. It could be because of my good memory, or it could also be because, along with those strange gifts, that face had been wandering in my thoughts. I was so wrapped up in that mysterious person that her memory was barely a whisper, an image that appeared when I got tired of imagining who was sending me those gifts.

(Y/N), the Duke's assistant, that beautiful and shy girl that I found hard to forget, was crossing the border of my property, carrying something in her hands, a gift, a small box adorned with a striking red bow.

“Donna... it's...” Angie whispered when the girl was already getting too close, with a cautious look.

I would have liked to behave differently, not give in to my nerves and the shock of that revelation, but I couldn't do it. Abruptly, I came out of my hiding place, just at the moment when the girl bent down to put the gift on the ground.

“Hey, you!”  Angie shouted, running in front of me, scaring (Y/N), who had no choice but to run away.

“Oh, shit…” I heard her growl, running back towards the bridge, not bothering to look back, throwing the gift to the ground.

“Hey, don't run away, rat! Come here!” Angie shrieked, being picked up by me in a hurry, walking quickly towards the young girl.

“No, no! Ah!” she screamed, tripping loudly on a root and falling to the ground with a hiss of pain. “No, no please. I can, I can explain, I…”

Her babbling wasn’t able to distract me from my slower walk, until I stood in front of her, looking down at her, not knowing what to say, or what to do. Luckily, my black veil hid my emotions, my eye wide open, a smile of relief at knowing it was her. It was always her.

“Start talking, silly girl,” Angie said, with a cocky tone. I, meanwhile, just watched the shine in her eyes, her panicked expression.

“O-Okay, but don't kill me, my lady, please, I…” the girl said, rubbing her back due to the blow, standing up awkwardly, with trembling legs.

“You're the Duke's assistant,” I said in my own voice, something that surprised even Angie. My voice was hoarse, dark, but it was my voice, after all.

“Oh, um… -Y-yes, I'm…”

“(Y/N), I remember you,” I said again, taking a step closer to her. “It was you, right?”

“Um, I… I'm sorry my lady, I-I think I shouldn't be here and…” she said nervously, looking around for a place to escape. “I won't bother you anymore, I promise, I…”

I didn't pay attention to her words, I simply bent down to the ground, picking up the small package and shaking the snow off of it.

“Oh, that, forget it, it's…” (Y/N) said, trying to snatch it from me, something I stopped with a quick movement of my hands. “No, please…”

“Isn't it for me?” I asked in a small voice, taking advantage of the situation, of the paralysis that her body was feeling at that moment.

“Y-Yes, it's for you,” she said, lowering her head, on the verge of tears. “Please, Lady Beneviento, I… I'll, I'll leave.”

“Angie, don't let her go,” I murmured to the doll, who walked in front of me, intimidating the nervous and scared (Y/N).

“Of course, Donna,” the puppet said, getting too close to her.

“Mm,” I murmured, slowly removing the wrapping and opening the small box, which contained something shiny, similar to a bracelet. “Cos' è questo?”

“What? I, I…” she said, walking away slowly, something she couldn't do for a long time, since Angie was watching her back. “I-It's a… bracelet… I, I made it and…”

“Mm, a bracelet,” I repeated indifferently, looking inside the box, where there was, as always, one of those folded papers.

“No, no, no, no! Please!” the young woman screamed, moving towards me, desperately trying to snatch the note from me, something she didn't manage. “Please…”

“Stay still,” I said abruptly, sounding like an order that she simply couldn't disobey.

Not even the most beautiful flower, nor the brightest jewel, could compare to you

“Mm,” I murmured, looking over the note at the trembling young woman, blushing like blood, looking everywhere but at me. “Come.”

“W-W-What?” she asked, really scared, when I started walking towards the mansion.

“Are you deaf, silly? Come on, walk, walk,” Angie said, laughing sinisterly and pushing (Y/N)'s legs. Making a superhuman effort, she started walking.

I didn't trust her, I spent the whole way looking back, checking that she was following me. I didn't think she was capable of doing it, but she did.

“Siedeti,” I whispered to her at home, indicating a small corner with a sofa.

“What?” she asked, looking at the floor, still shaking.

“Cazzo…” I cursed, grabbing her arm roughly and pushing her onto the sofa. “I said, sit down,” I growled furiously, without knowing why.

“O-Okay, I'm sorry,” she said, barely in a voice.

“Stay there,” I ordered her again, leaving the bracelet and the note on a table. “Angie.”

“Yes, I'm watching her…” the doll said, climbing onto the sofa and rubbing her hands.

I went down to the kitchen, wiping the sweat from my forehead. I finally had before me the two things that had been wandering through my head: that beautiful girl, and my secret admirer. I could never imagine that shy girl could have anything to do with all of this, to me she was just that, a pretty girl who… well, I wouldn't have minded her being my maid.

Nervous, almost breathless, I prepared some tea, mentally preparing myself to have some kind of conversation with her, to know how to clear up all my doubts, how to answer the questions that had been tormenting me all that time. I couldn't call Alcina, I had acted too quickly, Angie wouldn't help me, I was alone.

“Tea,” I said abruptly, putting the tray down on the coffee table in front of (Y/N), startling her with the noise, causing her to shrink on the couch.

“T-T-Tea?” she stammered, as if I had said something stupid.

“T-T-Tea?” I mocked unpleasantly. My nerves and my sick mind were playing tricks on me. “Chiudi il becco, I'm making the questions”.

“Sorry, sorry,” she said, lowering her head.

I sat down in front of (Y/N) and stared at her. Naturally, she didn't move an inch, she was frozen in fear.

“Um, Donna,” Angie whispered to me, getting my attention. “Easy…”

“Mm, (Y/N),” I said, ignoring the doll's warnings at my scary and dark attitude. “Do you know who I am?”

“Donna Beneviento,” the girl murmured, without looking at my face, at that black veil that hid my ugliness.

“Bingo,” Angie said, climbing back onto the sofa to intimidate the young woman. I thought she would faint at any moment.

“Do you know what happens to stupid people who dare to bother me?” I asked again, with a darker voice. “Don't you drink tea?” I asked in a different tone, almost unintentionally.

“I'm a bit nervous, my lady,” she said, clenching her clothes with her fists. “Yes, I know what happens when…”

“You've done it several times,” I said, pointing with my hand at the flowers and the box of chocolates.

“Yes,” she admitted, closing her eyes, clasping her hands in a pathetic pose. “I beg you, my lady, have mercy on me, I just wanted…”

“What did you want?” I asked impatiently, crossing my arms. “To laugh at me? Was it a bet or something?”

“What? No, of course not,” (Y/N) said, shaking her head, as if that insinuation had really offended her. “I did it voluntarily.”

I looked at Angie, who shrugged. I really needed Alcina's help at that moment…

“Why?” I asked nervously, with a demanding tone. “Don't try to lie to me, you silly girl, I'll know.”

Her face told me she was willing to tell the truth. I couldn't help but smile. Of course, I wasn't able to tell if she was lying.

“I… I just want to leave, please, I promise not to come back and…” she said, getting up hastily from the sofa, something that I prevented again with a brusque gesture, lowering her body by her shoulders.

“Sit down and drink your tea.”

“O-Okay,” she said, fearfully taking the cup.

“Don't make me lose my patience,” I threatened in vain. Her beauty couldn't be hurt. I couldn't hurt something so beautiful, even if I wanted to. “Speak.”

“O-One day…” the girl began, trembling even more, looking for a fixed point to look at that wasn't my non-existent gaze. “One day, shortly after the Duke hired me, you appeared in the warehouse, I think, I think you wanted a grey fabric with…”

“With ruffles and a rough feel,” I finished for her, making her nod nervously. “Do you remember… How curious, I don't remember you.”

“W-Well, I guess you don’t. I didn't want to show myself, and even less in front of someone like, like you…” she explained with a voice broken by fear, but terribly sincere. “I had a bad idea about you, and I would be lying if I said I wasn't afraid but…”

“But,” I said with that same dark tone, one that I couldn't avoid, although I would have liked to.

“But when I saw you… I didn't see a horrible monster, I didn't see that legend that the elders talk about at night… I only saw a woman… a young woman dressed in mourning and I began to wonder… why such terrible things were said about you,” she said with a low voice, losing her fear, apparently.

“Is that why you sent me those gifts? Nothing you say makes sense, (Y/N),” I said confused, nervous, losing my patience little by little. “Those things you said…”

“I was telling the truth,” (Y/N) said abruptly, with an intense look that pierced my chest. “I wanted to make you feel good and… well, working for the Duke gave me a certain idea of ​​the things you might like.”

“I'll only ask you once, (Y/N),” I said, slowly getting up, intimidating her. “What do you want from me?”

“To get to know you”

A verb, some simple words served to relax my attitude. Nobody, nobody had ever wanted to get to know me, to have anything to do with me and… she… that beautiful girl… gave me gifts, told me those things because… just because she wanted to get to know me?

I was nervous, confused, I didn't understand what her intentions were, why, the reason for everything she had done… for me. I relaxed, I calmed down. I let that beautiful girl ask me things about me, interests… tastes, hobbies…

It had been too long since I had a conversation like that, I don't think I ever had one. (Y/N) was a smart, funny girl, shy, but willing to get what she wanted, to exchange words with me, even if I wasn't sure.

After that tea came many others, conversations that were less and less awkward in which the girl dedicated herself to telling me about her past, what she expected from the future. Any other thought that wasn't about her had no place in my mind. I couldn't stop seeing her face in my dreams, hearing her voice.

My heart raced with her presence, it was sad when she left. Angie was clear about what was happening to me, but I wasn't.

“I have to go," (Y/N) said with a smile, after an entire afternoon of insipid, empty chatter, or at least that's how I saw it. “Thank you very much for the tea, and for... well, for spending time with me.”

 “Wait,” I said, failing in my attempt to hide my nervousness about these new feelings that were beginning to torment me. “I have a question for you, (Y/N).”

“S-Sure, Donna, ask whatever you want,” she said, laughing nervously, fighting off Angie's teasing.

“Do you believe in love?” I asked, perhaps abruptly, making her step back and drop her jaw.

“Oh, um… of course I do,” she said, blushing, like every time she spent time with me. I would die for that smile. “Love is the most beautiful thing in this world.”

“That's a lie. The most beautiful thing in the world is you,” I said without thinking, with my voice coming out of my mouth alone, with the words abandoning my will.

“Oh, Donna, that's… wow… that's…” she said even more nervously, getting a little closer to me.

“I have a problem, (Y/N),” I said, ready to be honest. “I have feelings for you, but I don't know how to interpret them, I was hoping you could help me.”

“Really? Do you have feelings for me?” she asked, getting even closer, playing with her hands. “That's…”

“What is it?” I asked, taking a step towards her. “My heart races when I see you, my hands sweat, they shake when you're near.”

“T-That's a pretty explicit description… but, but it's very similar to what I feel for you, Donna,” she said in a low voice. “ Even since before… I met you.”

“Nonsense,” I said somewhat sadly, shaking my head. “I have the right to feel those things because I see your beauty every day. You don't.”

“Love goes far beyond beauty, Donna,” she said whispering, breathing heavily. “I can love you, even if I can't see your face.”

“Then I'll change your mind,” I said with a broken voice, gently removing the veil from my face, making the only chance to discover what love was vanish along with the black cloth.

“Oh, Donna,” the girl said, whispering again, almost without a voice, looking at every corner of my horrible face. “I wasn't wrong, you're beautiful.”

“Does love make you a liar?” I said, frustrated by my ugliness, by a beauty I would never have.

“Love is the only thing I feel when I’m with you,” she murmured, taking a last step closer, making our bodies closer than ever.

Silence fell upon us abruptly. There were no words, only glances, only her bright eyes, fixed on mine. My hand moved on its own, ready to experience for itself the softness of her skin, caressing her cheek, her real beauty…

She did the same, staring at me intensely, causing my whole body to tense up and making me unable to move. Her head tilted as she ran her hands over my face, bringing it closer and closer, until it happened.

Her soft lips rested on mine, caressing my monstrous face with a warm kiss, one I couldn't respond to until I realized that this was love, the feeling that drove my heart out of control when she was near, all the sensations that kiss, that first kiss, caused in a sad and gloomy soul like mine.

[lostintransist]

Seamstress | Part 4

Part 1 here.

John lets the men simmer for two days. Mostly he lets their trip to his seamstress ride to see if they brought it up to him. They didn’t. Guess he would be playing this the sly way.

“Found an old quilt from my grandmother when cleaning out my mum’s house last leave.”

Johnny’s brain sparked on the word association just as John hoped it would.

“Found out I can get my family kilts fixed up and preserved. Met a pretty lass who runs a shop that said it was a possibility.”

“Oh?” John folded his arms across his chest, encouraging Johnny to go on by tilting his head in interest.

“Yeah, pretty bird, kicked us out when we started asking about-”

He cut himself off pretty quick but John gave him a small scary smile.

“Asking about who, Johnny?”

Johnny started to back up, hands raised as he babbled his excuses.

“Finish your excuses and go get the guys.”

Johnny turned tail and fled from the room. His muppets filed in the room, Johnny getting forced by the neck by Simon who glared down at him. Must have wanted to keep this a secret. Should have known better than to tell Johnny. The man couldn’t keep a non-life-threatening secret to save anyone’s life. Kyle and Gary slid in after the duo.

“Muppets. You will leave my seamstress well enough alone or I will make it a problem for you.”

“So she is yours?” Gary piped up from the side.

Shooting him a glare John continued.

“I am grown enough to not explain myself to the lot of you, but if I get a call again about any of you bothering her I will make it everyone’s problem.”

Kyle smirked and spoke out one side of his mouth.

“Seems like Price can’t get a date.”

“Kyle I swear to my god and yours I will make you disappear if you keep it up. If your clothes go missing, just know they will be back. Now get out of here the lot of you.”

His men shared smiles and eye contact.

They hustled from the room when he picked up his blackened coffee mug to throw at one of them.

“Fucking muppets going to send me to an early grave. I don’t even have her phone number yet,” he mumbled to himself as the back of them disappeared.

🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡

You think about John far more often than you should. He is a customer. Yes, he sleeps in your chairs and smiles at you in a way that pulls his cheeks to the moon, and yes he makes your heart flutter the tiniest bit but, but he is a customer who has never shown interest and you refuse to make someone feel uncomfortable in your shop. Your shop was a safe space, for everyone. Your flags are on clear display, so many, many flags, made sure of it.

He stepped through your thoughts carelessly. When you were wandering a superstore you somehow ended up in the camping section. A clearance foldable cot caught your eye and left the store with you. You maneuvered it into your tiny car and into the shop without allowing yourself to question why you had bought it.

John appeared two mornings following your purchase. You smile, wider than you should, at him.

“Hi John, welcome back! Got anything new and interesting for me today?”

Did you sound too chipper?

“Nothing crazy, one of my men needs a mask fixed.”

“Do you always bring in their items? I hope they are paying you at least,” you joke as you take the offered mask.

Spreading it on the counter you look it over, a tear over one ear and one from the eye portion. Both are decently easy fixes but would require your ring light and some time with a hand needle.

Looking up you offer John another smile. Fuck, can you keep the smiles to a minimum? He is going to think you are weird and then stop coming by.

“This shouldn’t take terribly long, I would say maybe an hour?”

John knocked one knuckle against the counter as he nodded. With both hands on the armrests, you remembered the cot in the back.

“Oh, John!”

He paused, ass halfway lowered into the seat.

“I..uh..” you stammer to a stop, unsure of how your words might be received.

“Yes?” He lifts a single brow at you, body not shaking as he waits.

Tucking one arm to your chest and the other to your mouth you speak from behind it.

“I found a cot. I brought it to the shop for you to use if you wanted?”

The words rush out of you, mumbled by your hand, and the speed by which you hurl them.

John stands, moving to stand next to the counter where the floor changes, noting the difference in customer space vs working space.

“What was that dove?”

Tightening your lips before biting the inside of your cheek you force yourself to say your words again. Slower, clearer you speak.

“I have a cot for you. In the back, so that you can sleep.”

His face goes blank as he blinks at you.

He looked a bit like a 404 code in the flesh.

A small smile breaks across his face as color spreads up his cheeks.

“For me?”

“Well,” you tighten both arms around your middle as you reply. “No one else seems to pay me for the privilege of sleeping in my shop, so yes?”

John rubs the back of his neck with one hand.

You awkwardly stare at him. What do you even say now? Do you invite him to lie down? No that sounded weird.

“Do you-”

“Why don-”

You both started and stopped at hearing the other’s voice.

Spinning on your heel you turned towards the storage room, confident John would follow. Popping the door open you can do nothing more than point to the cot, still covered in tape from the store.

John slides by you, chest brushing your arm and shoulder as he does. If you have to fight back the urge to take a bite? Well, he would never need to know.

“I can set it up for you if you don’t mind?” John looks back over his shoulder at you.

Knowing you are beet red you can only nod.

“I bought it for you but didn’t get a chance to,” you gesture at it as if your vague motion will explain all your thoughts.

John’s smile, eyes crinkling and shoulders softening, melted your heart.

“I’ll take care of it and then take a good nap. My men have started to comment that I am nicer to them after I get a nap here.” He knelt, pulling out a pocket knife and slicing open the package.

“Your men?” You lean against the door frame, unabashedly watching. “What is it you do for work John?”

“Special forces, I’m a captain. I lead a group of myself and four other men.”

“Well, that would explain a lot of the smells.”

He looks up at you, brow cocked.

“Smells?”

“Like fire, gunpowder, sweat, sometimes fear.”

“You get a lot of smell knowledge here?”

“I get a lot of everything here,” you shrug, unable to articulate how no matter how clean a piece of cloth some lingering smells clung.

John turns back to his task. You spend far, far too long watching him. The way his shoulders dip and arms change shape as he uses them. When the cot is built and John stands he turns and catches sight of you, you give a panicked smile and flee for the counter where you had left the mask.

Slamming your body into your chair you turned on your ring light, pulled your black thread, and focused diligently on fixing the holes you had been asked to address. John did not reappear for nearly an hour. You had finished the mask sooner than that but had not yet found the fortitude to go and wake him.

The creases on his face matched the lines on the shoulder of his shirt, and the slight drool stain.

“Right on time?”

You smile and nod.

“Well let’s settle up and I will find a reason to be back in a few days.” John returns to the customer side of the counter, sure of himself and you.

“You don’t have to pay me to come nap if that is all you need,” you start.

He cuts you off with a wave of his hand.

“My men are hard on clothes. If I can get you some business I feel less bad about using you for some shut-eye.”

Supposing you had to accept that answer you unlock your tablet and complete the transaction.

Once his card clears you pass over the mask.

“You’re jewelry box should be done by Christmas.”

He drops the statement as if he forgot to bring it up until now.

“Christmas should be fine, I don’t have many plans though I will be out of town the week of Christmas proper. I will be visiting my grandmother.” Paternal grandmother since your mother was not allowed to visit, but no need to mention that.

“We will have to find some time to ensure I can get you the gift then,” he smiled as he said it.

“I told you I would pay for it John,” you chide.

With a shrug, he tucked the mask into his pocket and stepped back from the counter.

“Can’t pay me for a Christmas present dove.”

With that, he waved and pushed through the front door.

“The hell I can’t,” you spoke to the empty shop.

Masterlist

[babyangelsky]

Faith as a love language and why I want Ju Yeong to give Do Hoe his cross necklace

Let me preface this by saying that one, my interpretations are drawn heavily from my own personal experience as well as the culture I was raised in and two, that this is going to be very rambly and maybe not make a whole lot of sense to anyone but me. But @respectthepetty encouraged me to get this out of my brain so here we are.

In order to explain what I mean in the title of this post and actually get into the meat of it, there's two other things I need explain first. There are layers to this so please bear with me.

The first thing is that I am not and have never really been a practicing Catholic. I believe in god and have a very loose, very personal system of spiritual belief but I am not religious. My grandmother is Catholic however, a very devout one, and since she helped to raise me I would say I was partially raised Catholic. Emphasis on the partially because my beautiful mother in her infinite wisdom (and due entirely to her own religious trauma) felt it was important to give me a choice on the matter and figure out my faith for myself, which I love her dearly for.

(She also once infamously refused to kiss the ring of the local very important priest in the village she grew up in which is one of my favorite things about her)

However, I've learned that even if you are given a choice on whether or not religion will play any part in your life, that does not save you from developing religious trauma. Especially if you also happen to be queer and especially if you don't adhere dogmatically to the widely accepted--and arbitrary--set of rules that determine whether you are considered a "good (insert faith here)".

The second thing has to do with cross necklaces and why being given one is a very specific loving gesture.

I lived in Mexico for a while a couple of years ago. On the day that I was due to come back to the States, my grandma gave me a cross necklace. She didn't just give me a cross necklace, she gave me her necklace that had been custom made for her. She wanted me to have a safe flight and get home in one piece so she gave it to me.

I have worn that necklace every single day for the past two years. If I happen to wear another necklace for outfit reasons, I put my cross in my pocket. It's always around my neck or on my body. Always. And the thing is, I don't wear it to signify my belief god.

In the broader sense of faith and what it means to people, giving someone a necklace like that holds a lot of weight. Taking something off of your body, your 'self', that you trust to keep you safe and that represents your faith and your beliefs and then putting it on someone you love to keep them safe is such a visceral expression of love. It becomes a symbol of faith in a different way.

As I've established, I'm not devout like my grandma is. The necklace doesn't represent to me what it does to her. I wear it because doing so makes me feel loved and safe because she gave it to me, not because I have faith of my own.

Now, having said allllll of that.

Ju Yeong's cross necklace has been established to primarily represent not his faith, but his family's expectations. Expectations that he hasn't lived up to and that have turned that cross into a heavy symbol of his failure that keeps him shackled at all times except when he chooses to take it off. And when he chooses to take it off matters.

He took it off when he confessed to Do Hoe and again when he slept with him because in those moments he wants to be free of that burden, free of those expectations, free to just love Do Hoe without having to think about anything else. Not even god.

Because even if the necklace isn't primarily a symbol of Ju Yeong's faith, it still is a symbol of his faith or rather, the faith that he had no choice but to adhere to when he became a pastor's son. That's what makes Do Hoe misunderstand what it means for Ju Yeong to take it off when he's with him. He interprets it as Ju Yeong being ashamed, as wanting to hide his sin, as only allowing himself to love Do Hoe when god isn't watching. He's wrong, of course, but he doesn't know that. Yet. (Petty explained it better go read that post)

We haven't really gotten into Ju Yeong's relationship with his faith and with only two episodes left I don't think we will, and that's a shame because I think recontextualizing what the necklace means to him and what his faith means to him would help him heal.

(Which is something I believe anyone who has religious trauma should do at some point in their life, especially if they're queer. Religion is so often weaponized against people and something that's used to make them feel inadequate and ashamed and like they aren't allowed to draw comfort from it unless they fall in line with what it asks of them. We always think of it being used that way specifically against queer people but that isn't always the case. I'm not out to my family and I once had a relative look me in the eyes and tell me I was going to hell for not going to mass.)

Really it would help both of them heal because even though Do Hoe wasn't the one with the religious upbringing, the necklace is still making him feel the same sort of inadequacy and shame he thinks Ju Yeong feels.

Which is why I want Ju Yeong to give Do Hoe his cross necklace.

Recontextualizing what it means, allowing it to be a symbol of his faith and nothing more, and making the conscious decision to take it off of his body and put it on Do Hoe so Do Hoe knows that he's loved without shame would mean everything to me personally.

Faith is a love language. It's why Mexican mothers pin medals with the Virgin of Guadalupe on them to their newborns' onesies, why parents choose auspicious names for their babies, why the very first prayer Christian and Catholic children are taught is the guardian angel prayer, why grandmothers do the sign of the cross over their children and grandchildren and end every conversation with "que dios te acompañe", and why we put crosses on the people we love.

[moonselune]

Would love to see a fanfic/drabble that plays out Karlach's return from Avernus post-game where fem!Tav didn't go with her for whatever reason. Karlach would likely search for her once she came back to the mortal plane, but how would they meet again? What would rebuilding their life together be like? Thank you <3

Did I cry whilst writing this? yes i did.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Karlach x Reader | The Life We Build

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The final battle against the Elder Brain had been a whirlwind of triumph and loss, of sacrifices and victories that should have marked a new beginning for you and Karlach. For a while, it had seemed as though you’d be able to carve a future together, even if it meant venturing into Avernus by her side. But in the end, you’d been forced to part ways, your hands slipping from one another in a moment that seemed like an eternity, her fiery form disappearing into the shadows of the hellish realm that had so long claimed her.

You promised to find a way back to her, swearing to the gods and to the stars that your reunion was only a matter of time. But as the days turned to months, and the months to years, hope became something quieter, something tucked away in the deepest chambers of your heart.

Your life found a strange sort of rhythm in the quiet years that followed. The aching absence left behind by Karlach was a constant weight, something you carried with you even as you adapted to the pace of life in the city.

Eventually, you took a position running a small tavern near the edge of the bustling streets of Baldur’s Gate. The work was comforting in its own way, the routines and hum of voices from strangers filling the silence that might otherwise have swallowed you whole. Yet no matter how steady life became, the hope of Karlach’s return was a spark you couldn’t extinguish.

For Karlach, every grueling day in Avernus was spent with one thing driving her: you. With grit and determination, she’d fought her way out of that forsaken realm, overcoming every obstacle, every hardship, every infernal pit. She had been running on the hope that, one day, she would return to the mortal plane and find you. Yet, as she finally stepped out of Avernus, her heart swelled with both hope and dread. The years had passed for both of you, and as she walked through the streets of Baldur’s Gate, searching for any sign of you, a thousand worries filled her mind.

What if you had moved on? What if you’d found someone new, created a life full of warmth and laughter that no longer held a place for her? The idea twisted her heart in ways that battle wounds never could, but she pressed on, determined to find you, even if only to see you one last time.

She tracked rumors and asked quiet questions, and eventually, her path led her to the tavern where you worked—a place she could hardly believe was yours, though something in her heart told her it was true. She stands at the entrance, her heart racing in her chest, overwhelmed by the sight of you after so long. She watches, half-hidden in the shadows, her breath catching at the sight of your familiar face, the way you laugh easily with patrons, the way you’ve somehow found a life here without her.

All of Karlach’s courage falters. She hesitates, taking half a step back, feeling the weight of the years, the distance that’s stretched between you. She thinks maybe this is enough—to see you happy, even if she isn’t a part of it. Her feet are ready to turn her around when your gaze sweeps over her face. For a moment, time stands still, and your expression shifts from confusion to disbelief, your eyes widening as recognition dawns.

The tray of drinks slips from your hands, tankards crashing to the floor as you cross the room in a few quick strides, cutting through the noise, not even sparing a glance at the broken glass. All you see, all that matters, is her. Her name escapes your lips, a sound you’d only whispered to the night in dreams and prayers, but now she is here, and the weight of the years crumbles beneath the fierce joy that propels you into her arms.

The moment your arms wrap around her, both of you lose yourselves, clutching each other as though the world might still pull you apart. Her strong arms encircle you, pulling you close, and you feel the familiar warmth of her, the way her heart races against your chest, as if it, too, is struggling to believe this is real. Her eyes glisten with tears, and you can feel her hands trembling as she grips you, as though she might lose you again if she loosens her hold even the slightest bit.

“Karlach…” you breathe, pressing your forehead to hers, and when she meets your gaze, you both burst into relieved, tear-streaked laughter, unable to believe the other is really there.

Her voice is thick with emotion as she stammers, “I—I was afraid. Afraid you’d moved on… that I’d come back to find you… to find you happy with someone else.”

You shake your head, swallowing against the lump in your throat, reaching up to brush away the tear that slips down her cheek. “I never moved on,” you murmur, your voice barely a whisper. “I’ve been waiting, Karlach. Always waiting.”

A tear slips down her cheek, and she lets out a shaky laugh, her eyes searching your face as though committing every detail to memory all over again. “Gods, I can’t believe it,” she whispers, running a roughened hand through your hair, her thumb brushing against your cheek. “I can’t believe you waited.”

You pull her in again, your embrace full of the love and longing you’ve harbored in her absence. She clutches you tighter, burying her face against your neck, the tension in her body melting as the reality of your presence sinks in.

“I’m here,” she murmurs, pressing her lips to your forehead, her voice a soft promise. “I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere. Never again.”

As you stand there, wrapped around each other, the tavern crowd quietly returns to their conversations, casting knowing glances your way, warmth and approval in their smiles. But the world beyond the two of you fades into a gentle blur, the noise and bustle softened by the warmth of the reunion that neither of you ever truly believed would happen.

With Karlach back in your life, a warmth and purpose return that feel like sunlight after endless years of shadow. The tavern, once a quiet escape from past pain, becomes the center of something larger—a life rebuilt together, each day shared and celebrated.

It isn’t long before you and Karlach purchase the tavern outright, transforming it from just a place to work into a place to call home. The building itself is sturdy, though Karlach insists on making improvements, eager to add her own touch to every corner. She rolls up her sleeves with that determined glint in her eye, hammering away at loose boards, reinforcing the walls, and patching leaks in the roof. She brings warmth to every nook and cranny, making the old tavern shine with new life.

As winter comes, the air turns crisp, and with it, a shared longing for adventure emerges. It’s not enough to stay put in the city—not yet, not after all the years you spent dreaming of freedom together. You both decide to spend the season traveling, embarking on expeditions you once only dreamed of. From snow-covered peaks in the north to the mist-shrouded forests, each place you visit fills you with awe, and with Karlach’s hand in yours, the world seems bigger, brighter. Her laughter echoes through the mountain passes and winds through the quiet valleys, filling your life with joy that makes even the coldest night feel warm.

When spring comes, you both return to Baldur’s Gate, eager to settle back into the tavern. But your time away has left a mark on both of you, an even deeper resolve to give back to this world you’ve fought so hard to protect. Karlach, more than anyone, feels this pull to help, especially when she sees the street kids who linger outside the tavern, eyes wide with curiosity but marred with the caution of those who’ve had to fend for themselves. She sees herself in them, remembers the way her own life veered toward violence and exploitation because she had no one to turn to.

With her heart set, Karlach begins to bring them in, one by one, offering them small jobs around the tavern. Some run errands, others help clean tables, a few learn how to chop firewood or stack the barrels in the back. The kids watch Karlach with awe, drawn to her kindness and her strength. She never hides her infernal heritage, showing them that no matter who you are or where you come from, you can still be loved, still find a family. She speaks to them with a softness she rarely uses, her voice filled with warmth and encouragement. She becomes a steady presence in their lives, someone they can rely on and look up to.

Soon, a few of them linger even after their tasks are done, curling up in the back room with blankets, too reluctant to return to the cold, empty streets. Karlach’s eyes grow tender every time she sees them, and one night, as you close up, she looks at you, her voice soft but firm.

“These kids,” she murmurs, “they don’t have anywhere else to go. They deserve better than the life I had.”

And so, with a quiet, unspoken agreement, the two of you begin to take them in, one after another. Some stay for only a short while, finding a new path after a few months of warmth and care. But others become a true part of your family, filling the tavern with their laughter, their footsteps, their small but steady presences. They warm to the safety, testing boundaries with playful rebellion, then looking to you both for guidance as they slowly find comfort in this new home.

Karlach takes them under her wing with the fierce protectiveness she once reserved only for you. She teaches them the skills she knows, from cooking to basic combat stances (for “self-defense, of course,” she insists with a wink). She gives them everything she wished she’d had as a child—security, love, the reassurance that they don’t need to fight the world alone. At night, the tavern glows with a sense of warmth and community, the kids filling it with laughter and songs, even mischief, as they become a part of the heartbeat of your lives.

The tavern becomes more than just a home; it becomes a haven. Travelers pass through and are often greeted by a whirlwind of small, curious faces, eager to listen to their stories and learn of faraway lands. And every time a young face brightens with hope or a child smiles as Karlach lifts them onto her broad shoulders, you can see the pain of her past softening, replaced with something deeper, something healing.

Life with Karlach is more beautiful than you’d ever dared to hope for. Together, you build a place filled with love, laughter, and the echoes of shared dreams. Every day is a new adventure, whether you’re exploring the world in winter or hunkering down at the tavern to take care of the family you’ve created. And in those rare, quiet moments, Karlach often turns to you with a look of gratitude and love, her voice soft as she murmurs, “I couldn’t have done this without you.”

In each stolen glance, each shared smile, each time you tuck a child into bed or laugh together over a spilled tray of drinks, you bask in the warmth that, together, you’ve built not only a home but a legacy of love and kindness that will last for years to come.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

OOOF THIS HIT ME IN THE FEELS WRITING IT, move over daddy halsin, mama K is here to stay. I can just imagine them being competitive over their children. 'Well my orphan grew their first potato today' 'Well my orphan didn't pickpocket for a whole week'

Anyways hope you guys enjoyed it ! - Seluney xox

If you want to support me in other ways | Help keep this moonmaiden caffeinated x

[vashtijoy]

So the conversation you can have with Futaba in the attic after the interrogation room has always bothered me, she says something along the lines of "You weren't the only one risking your life, y'know? Everyone else was in danger too."

Which... Is a weird thing to say to your best friend/brother figure after he risked getting shot in the head and beaten to a pulp underneath the police station. It just comes off as creating a problem that didn't exist...

Nobody thought the other thieves weren't in danger, No one said that they didn't have it rough.

Just seems like an out of pocket thing to say in that situation. Which makes me wonder if it was yet another translation boo-boo. I don't know for sure, I'm going to keep looking into how I could translate it.

Does this stick out as weird to you? Or is it just me?

Hi, anon, thanks for your question! The immediate answer is that Futaba qualifies that statement a little in Japanese:

Futaba わたしも、みんなも、こう見えて 、わりと体張ってたんだぜ。 watashi mo, minna mo, kou miete, wari to karada hatteta n da ze It may not have looked like it, but everyone else was risking their lives too. [lit. I and the others, despite how it looks, were risking our lives a bit too.]

(Incidentally, note her ze there—a very masculine particle which Futaba is fond of, which goes well with her rather rough and ad hoc speech.)

That wari to means "relatively"; "kind of", or "sort of". "We were all in a bit of a pickle too." As she goes on to emphasise, while Ren was in the most danger, everyone else was in some danger:

Futaba ま、命賭けでホントの逮捕までされた{F1 82}が一番がんばったのは、間違いないけどさ。 ma, inochi kake de honto no taiho made sareta <Ren> ga ichiban ganbatta no wa, machigai nai kedo sa Though there's no doubt you were the most at risk. I mean, you actually got arrested. [lit. but you, Ren, who bet your life and went so far as to get arrested for real, did the most, there's no doubt about that.]

Somewhere along the line Futaba's "you gambled with your life and even got arrested in real life!" has turned into the rather understated "you actually got arrested"—which again contributes to her seeming to understate what Ren endured. Her "you did the most" is 頑張る ganbaru, a word most anime types know very well—it means to give it your all, to keep at it, to persist, to be tenacious; to fight against all odds. "You gave it everything, you bet your life, you got arrested!"

Don't forget that, while Futaba is ICly speaking to Ren, she's also performing exposition here. We, the audience, are the ones who should not forget that all the PTs were in danger. It's a bit clumsy, but what can you do.

I do think this exchange of Futaba's has to be taken together with the immediate followup section, which is all about what the PTs had to do—the events of the 11/20 cinematic, after Ren's arrest:

Futaba: Well, since the rest of us didn't get captured, we had to act. Futaba: We had to pretend we never wanted you to get arrested… Pretend the suicide news was a real shock… Futaba: Basically, we had to act like we didn't know anything, 24/7.

acting vs acting

I'm going to highlight the first line of this one, since it contains an error:

(Doesn't she look pleased, all of a sudden? It doesn't quite match the tone of the English—but goes very well with her pride over their little one-act play.)

Futaba 捕まらなかったわたしらの、一番のシゴトは『芝居』だ。 tsukamaranakatta watashira no, ichiban no shigoto wa "shibai" da Well, since the rest of us didn't get captured, we had to act. [lit. the main task of the rest of us, who were not arrested, was "acting".]

Do you see the confusion? The localisation has Futaba say, "we had to act"—that is, in English, "we had to do something". But the intention of the line is "we had to act our parts"—that is, they had to put on a play or a drama! They had to engage in the craft of acting!

This exact error crops up in at least one other place, with Akechi in Shido's Palace:

Akechi 学業に励み、優等生を演じ、正義の名探偵として、名を上げた。 gakugyou ni hagemi, yuutousei o enji, seigi no meitantei toshite, na o ageta I devoted myself to my studies, acted as an honor student, and made my name as an ace detective. [lit. I devoted myself to my studies, played the part of an honor student, and made my name as an ace detective of justice.]

See the error? The Japanese words are different, but the translator, again, didn't know how the verb "to act" works in speech. So Akechi just sounds like he's saying "I acted like an honor student"—his emphasis that this was a performance is lost.

Lastly, there's no doubt the other PTs were in genuine danger. Witness Shido's order to take the rest of them out next, earlier on 11/21—which Akechi evades:

revision history

Click here for the latest version.

v1.0 (2024/11/03)—first posted.

[my-mt-heart]

Thoughts on TBOC 206

I have a few thoughts on 206 specifically, but now that all of the episodes are out, I want to look at what the season as a whole accomplished for Carol's and Daryl's arc(s), or rather, how much damage it did, and emphasize for the millionth time that new leadership is the only way forward.

Carol and Daryl both planning to stay behind was really sweet. I especially loved the emotion in Melissa's voice when she delivered Carol's line about not being able to live with herself if anything happened to Daryl and the look she gives him when she's about to get on the plane. Melissa has a remarkable talent for conveying a story that the writing and editing don't want to tell and I cannot thank her enough for staying true to the character in spite of that. It shouldn't have to be that way, but it is because the men in charge are all vindictive monsters.

The interruption trope was grossly overused the whole season, but in the case of the plane, after Carol jumps out, there's plenty of room for her and Daryl to have a moment with each other where the impact of what she just did lands on both of them, but it gets passed over. There are smiles sure, but they don't even hug? It feels extremely inorganic.

For the very first time all fucking season, we get to see Daryl comfort Carol. He tells her that what happened to Sophia and the other kids wasn't her fault and that living at the Commonwealth will be different this time because they'll “stay together.” Again, it’s a sweet scene when you take it at face value, but thinking about it in context, I have several bullshit cards to play. It shouldn't have taken Daryl this long to figure out that Carol was struggling with her grief again. Even if he wasn't an expert on reading Carol, she explicitly told him multiple times throughout the back half of the season that she’s hurting, but for some reason it’s only when the child he's known for two months is safe that he can finally make some space for her? Bullshit. That’s not Daryl. Acting far removed from that grief when Sophia was a huge part of his story too? Bullshit, that's also not Daryl. The scene is supposed to be Caryl fans' payoff? Bullshit, because it's a repeat of a couple of scenes they shared in S10, only worse, because this time it's really hard to take Daryl seriously when just a few episodes previously, he was talking to Isabelle about the life they'd have in the CW. Do I think he meant what he said to Isabelle? No. Does that matter? No, because it's never clarified. Thus...bullshit.

Why is a supporting character given really drawn out romantic beats with another supporting character I don’t recognize (did she fall out of the sky? Who is she??) when the only romance that's actually been earned gets no focus whatsoever? Is the hand-holding scene supposed to parallel them? Why are we only allowed to have parallels? What is that?

I've talked a lot about the tunnel scene already because of the script leak and for me, seeing it on screen was worse than reading it on the page which was already an awful experience. Again, why do Daryl and ghost Isabelle get more emotional weight than Daryl and Carol, who actually have a deep bond with each other and have spent over a decade with each other? Why is he giving up on life when he knows he has Carol back? Why is there literally no reaction when he meets up with Carol again after a near-death experience? Zabel treats them like they're strangers, and I will never get over how insane it is that someone so ignorant and careless gets to be in charge of their stories. Also, why are they talking before putting on their masks??

Melissa is wonderful in her performance when Carol sees Sophia, but the scene feels like a copout instead of giving her a proper resolution to her arc. It feels like there's still so much work to be done there. Also, why couldn't they find an actress who resembled Sophia more closely? The contrast is really distracting.

Thinking more broadly about the season now, it feels like the healing journey Melissa intended for Carol got upended by Daryl's betrayal (and yeah I'm going to call it that). I think it raises more insecurities about her self-worth, and I hate the male EPs for that.

They turned Daryl into an original character who embodies an "ideal" masculinity, but it comes off as inauthentic to the character many fans related to in the flagship show. I miss the unconventional hero who takes a long time to build emotional connections and stays loyal to them once he does. His sudden desire to build an entirely new family with people he's just met wreaks havoc on many of his bonds back home, but particularly Daryl's and Carol's. One of the many issues with Zabel is that he's used to writing broadcast TV shows (think crime, medical, or law procedurals) where the main characters can be reset a million and one times and their trajectory doesn't change. Daryl's and Carol's story isn't wired that way. On the contrary, they are two of the most transformed characters on television, with a long history that needs to be respected. Zabel does not respect that. Neither does Nicotero, Gimple, and even Norman.

I don't expect things to change for S3. I actually think they'll get worse and as much as I love Melissa and Caryl, the four horsemen are simply untrustworthy. I won't subject myself to more of their shit. Why should I? As Nicotero so kindly pointed out, they don't make the show for me (or any fans?) anyway. I'd love to watch a real Caryl show, one that has a showrunner who values Melissa's input, understands the characters, and respects the fans and I sincerely hope AMC will do the right thing.

Bonus Thought: “You Can't Always Get What You Want" feels like a slap in the face and I will never be able to listen to it again. Thanks, Zabel 🖕

[uceyliyahh]

SOMETHING BOUT’ US

Summary: "I want you more than anything in my life." After being in a difficult relationship with Carmelo Yasmine decided to move on from him and become the next big thing while getting drafted on the smackdown roster she always thought she would never find love again due to her commitment issues until she met him.

This fanfic is 18+! NO MINORS ALLOWED

word count: 4242

smut warning; it’ll come in the story randomly so PLEASE PLEASE look out for it I’m not really good at writing ✍🏽 smuts but I’m improving at the moment.

Jey Uso x Yasmine

AWFUL GRAMMAR IM GETTING BETTER I SWEAR LOL.

comments, likes, repost are appreciated I would love the constructive feedback in what area I need to approve in. 🤍

ALSO! I don’t not want nobody stealing my fanfics or take it as theirs that will be an issue fasho so keep it cute respectfully.

I only own my OC along with the make up scenarios

But I’ll be writing along the way since this story is in my drafts on Wattpad right now so yuh. 💁🏽‍♀️

TAGS ⬇️ lmk if you wanna be tag 🏷️@pinkwithhearts @420days @jstarr86 @empressdede @angiedawn02 @biancasreign

@bebesobrielo @skyesthebomb @aikosilo @papireigns-05 @punksyeet @paigereeder @magnificentbouquetmusic

@hunnidmilly @celesteheartsjey @charmed-dreamssss @fearlesschimera @partypoison00 @mselenalovebug @bloodlinesbabe93 @lov3rla03 @simpin4pixels @nbanenefrmdao

4.

YASMINE It was nine in the morning as the birds were chirping, and sunlight was beaming through my curtains I and Jey were sleeping soundly while I was lying on top of his body while his hands were resting on my butt firmly underneath the warm blanket.

We were sleeping well until I heard my door open, which caused me to flutter my eyes open, squinting to see who was at my door. I saw that it was Bianca coming in, seeing me and him sleeping in the same bed together.

"Is y'all two like dating or something?" She whispered. I immediately shook my head while she snickered at me.

Feeling Jey shifting his position and pulling me down with him, which shocked Me, and Bianca gripping my butt tightly, making my body feel electricity when he did that.

"Please don't tell Montez about this...even though he knows, but don't tell me about this part." I whispered as she nodded her head before heading out.

Bianca shut the door as I gazed up at Jey, who was still sleeping soundly, mumbling something. Maybe he was having a bad dream right now, which is why he did what he did.

He slithered his hands inside of my shorts. It made me feel a little bit wet from him doing this, but I had to get up and get ready for work. Today, I do hair on the side because it's my favorite thing to do.

I tried to get up from his grasp, but he wouldn't move, "J-Josh...I gotta get up, c'mon." He groaned, not even hinting that he wanted to get up.

'I'm going to be late for work because of this man.'

I just lay there for a moment before trying again. I was playing in his mullet, watching him sleep. His features looked so beautiful that I couldn't help but admire him.

I grabbed his phone, which was next to him, and checked the time. I sighed deeply, knowing that I was going to be late, so I managed to escape his grip while standing up and walking quietly toward my bathroom.

I removed my clothing as I began my skincare routine before heading into the shower. While I was doing that, I heard my bedroom door opening. Montez was probably in there, and that's when I heard thumping on the floor.

'Do these two have to play fight in my bedroom?'

I heard them two going at it with each other playfully as I finished up my skincare routine. When I realized I hadn't brought my towel with me, I cursed under my breath. I slightly opened the door, seeing them two wrestling each other on the ground. That's when I cleared my throat, gaining their attention.

"What's up Minks?" Montez questioned me.

"I forgot my towel can one of yall bring it to me please?" I said, having the door slightly closed so that they wouldn't be scarred for life by my naked figure.

They both stared at each other figuring out who was going to bring me my towel 'I literally told these dickheads one of them can bring it, why do men have to be stupid.' That's when Jey got up from the floor and saw my pink towel that was hanging from my chair.

He walked towards me, holding my towel in his hands, smiling at me before heading towards Montez.

"Thank you Josh."

"You're welcome ma." Jey said, hearing the bathroom door shut.

✧˚° After eating breakfast with everyone, I managed to make it to work. I saw everyone getting their heads done, and then I went inside the break room to clock in for work.

I felt my phone buzz while I pulled it out from my pocket, seeing that Jey had texted me. I had three or four clients today for hair appointments, so today would be busy.

Joshua🤍 sent 2+ messages IMESSAGE 💬 Joshua🤍: Hey, Mama I was seeing if you made it to work safe Joshua🤍: you're one hell of a cook girl is there anything you can't do? 😭

I smiled at his messages. He seemed so sweet and genuine, but I had to protect myself at all costs, and I really did want us to be friends first before anything happened. But I don't know. It's like every time I see him or even be around him, he always makes me nervous.

IMESSAGE 💬 Yasmine🩵: yes I made it to work safe Josh Joshua🤍: that's good mama so your brother calls you Minks? Huh? Yasmine🩵: yeah, it's a nickname he would call me growing up as a kid Joshua🤍: it's cute I should change yo' name in my phone to that. Yasmine🩵: it's your world Joshua do whatever Joshua🤍: whatever little girl Yasmine🩵: 🖕🏼🖕🏼

I'm tired of his ass calling me a little girl like a he's big dawg or something; one of my clients came in a bit late due to traffic. I told them that I wasn't trippin' and was very understanding with the whole traffic situation.

As I was washing their locs in the sink, I couldn't help but think about Jey and how gentle he is with me as a friend, of course. I honestly don't know if I'll be able to fall in love again after what happened to me.

But Jey is something different; different from the others. I just couldn't wrap my head around it. After washing their locs, I sat them down in the hairdryer so that their locs could dry. In the meantime, I was getting my loc gel and comb ready for them, along with texting Jey.

Yasmine🩵: what'chu doing? Joshua🤍: I'm at the gym working out right now Yasmine🩵: interesting 🤔 Joshua🤍: wym by that? you wanna see a pic or something? Yasmine🩵: nah nah i was just saying that's all I thought you would be chilling in the crib Joshua🤍: well I got a dark match tonight on smackdown so I have to be in good shape Yasmine🩵: a'ight a'ight Joshua🤍:

'This man is going to shoot me dead like woah.'

Yasmine🩵: okay period get them gains boy Joshua🤍: girl, yo' ass is funny for real Yasmine🩵: what can I say I'm the funniest person in the fam 🙂 Joshua🤍: don't you got a client to be focusing one right now ma'am? Yasmine🩵: yes but their hair is drying right now, and not too much don't be tryna clock me sir 🙄 Joshua🤍: you and that sassy ass attitude of yours Yasmine🩵: what'chu goin' to do about it?

'Where is this boldness coming from?'

Joshua🤍: fuck around and find out Minks 🙂 Yasmine🩵: you know what let me go finish my clients hair before I catch a case Joshua🤍: man, you ain't gonna do a damn thing little mama better watch yo' self Yasmine🩵: yap yap yap that's all I hear right now Josh and you aren't goin' do shit either so that makes the two of us. 😀💁🏼‍♀️ Joshua🤍: mhm just wait until I see yo' ass

I rolled my eyes at the text he just sent he's so annoying he's like another annoying ass brother hell he's even worse than Montez ass, i sat my client down in the chair and began parting their  hair doing what I do best.

They showed me what hairstyles they wanted, and I told them I could do that for them. As I was focusing on their hair, I heard a familiar voice coming in the background; not even paying attention, noticing that an unwanted presence was walking up towards me.

I looked up only to see Carmelo standing there with my favorite roses in his hands along with some other things, I don't know if this was him telling me that he's sorry or some type of trick for him to do it to me again.

"Carmelo what are you doing here?" I questioned him.

"Baby I just came to visit my favorite girl at work. Are you coming to support me tonight for my dark match?" Carmelo said.

"I'm going to be there only to support Montez and Jey..." when I said that name his facial expression dropped immediately.

He remembered what he had said to me, saying how I only belonged to him and only him, so when he heard me say another man's name, he didn't like that.

"As in Jey Uso?"

"Yeah, Jonathan's twin." I replied while applying the clips onto their locs.

"What's goin with'chu and him?" Why the fuck is he asking me all of these questions I literally just met Jey and we are just friends 'or so I thought.'

Like he's being possessive when we aren't even together anymore, how the fuck does that work?

"Look, don't start this in here with me while I'm at work. You can leave respectfully," I said sternly, staring deeply into his dark brown eyes.

"I'm just asking baby, ion' want no other nigga to be all in that like I do shit he probably can't handle all of you." I scoffed in disbelief. How could he be so confident about this? When he doesn't even know the little mini flirting that me and Jey do like, Jey could scoop me up right away in a heartbeat.

I nodded my head, cooperating with him so that nothing terrible happened to me while I was there because he was crazy and he could end up doing what he did before.

He placed a kiss on my cheek, which gave me shivers down my spine. How badly I wanted to wipe that fucking kiss off of my face as he walked off.

I immediately wiped the kiss off my cheek, feeling disgusted as I continued to do their locs.

✧˚° I was done with work today and made a lot of tips, which made me happy. I texted Montez, letting him know that I'll be in his locker room watching his match, including Jey's match as well. I have never seen him wrestle before in the ring, so this should be interesting.

As I was walking towards his locker room i bumped into Jey who had his yeet gear on along with his golden grills including his piercings and fresh haircut I just wanted to pass out right then and there but I had to play it cool.

"My fault minks didn't even see you there yo' ass is short." Jey said jokingly as I punched him in his arm.

"Don't be coming for my height just because you're taller than me don't mean that I won't whoop that ass." I said boldly as he had a smug expression appearing on his lips.

"You like to talk a lot of shit don't you little mama." I nodded my head while folding my arms over my chest standing my ground I was not finna play with him right now.

Little did I know someone was watching us behind the corner.

"Last time I checked, I said you weren't going to do anything about it." I got all up in his face, looking deeply into his low, hooded eyes.

I felt him pull me by the waist so that I could be closer to his body, he smelt so good it felt like I was in heaven right now with him.

Our faces were close to each other lips almost touching each other while he whispered something in my ear, "and last time I checked I said fuck around and find out didn't I?" His voice was so deep and raspy, almost killing somebody.

My breathing felt uneven, being underneath him like this. Why am I getting like this with him? I looked down at my hands, fiddling with them as he grabbed my chin, making me stare into his eyes yet again.

Earning a smile from him before brushing his thumb against my lips, "your adorable minks but I'll see you later after my match yeah?"

"Yeah, I'll be in Montez's locker room," I said as he and I backed away from each other, letting him off to his match while I walked inside Montez's locker room.

She sat down in the chair, staring up at the TV, seeing her brother and Angelo coming out with B-fab, hyping up the crowd. They always played in my brother's face like he wouldn't have a title shot.

As I was watching them, I heard the door opening and saw Trinity coming in. She came up to me, giving me a hug before sitting down.

"Hey babygirl how are you mentally?" She asked.

"I'm doing better mentally, honestly." I replied seeing Montez and Angelo coming out.

She raised an eyebrow at me, "And who's helping you out with that girl?" I didn't say anything; I just looked at her and then back up at the screen, watching my brother's match.

Trinity got the hint of who was helping out with that, and she knew that it was her brother-in-law, Jey. He and I are just friends, and he's been helpful throughout the whole thing.

"So you and Josh?" My eyes fixed on her. "We are just friends, Trin; nothing more. I told you all I think I wanna be in a relationship again."

"I understand if I were in your shoes, Yasmine, but I think Josh is different from any other guy that you have dealt with, including Carmelo. But I get it, " she said.

I nodded my head while watching Montez get dropped on the table, feeling his pain, as I was watching my brother get demolished right now. Meanwhile, I started to drown in my thoughts, thinking about what had happened earlier at work and then the intense moment Jey and I had together.

I threw away the roses he had bought me not wanting to trace any negative energy around me and when he kissed me on the cheek I just felt so disgusted especially after what he did to me.

I was listening to what Trinity had said about Jey. Maybe she's right, and maybe he is different from any other guy I was with, but I would have to see that for myself. But did I really want to go through that route again?

Dating someone just for them to hurt me again at this point I might as well kill myself if that was the case. Nonetheless I have to protect myself at all cost.

"Do you know when you're debuting on Smackdown?"

"I have no idea Paul hasn't said anything to me yet about it." I said shrugging my shoulders in the process.

"Well, he needs to figure it out so I can see my girl do some flips." I chuckled at her. Looking at the screen, I saw that Montez and Angelo got the W for tonight. I think Jey's match is the main event after the commercial break.

Hearing Montez coming in with Bianca as he held onto his head with an ice pack, man if I was in his shoes right now I probably would've been in pain man.

"How are you feeling brother?"

"Nigga I'm in pain girl just wait until you start you'll understand." Montez said.

"Nigga What'chu mean? I already felt it when I was in NXT." I said jokingly while rolling my eyes at him.

"So, Yasmine, how are you and Joshua?" Montez looked at me and then back at Bianca, confused, trying to figure out what she was talking about.

I told her to stop talking about it because there wasn't anything going on between me and him. We are just friends, nothing more. Well, that's what I believe because we've been doing some mini flirting, like earlier before I came to the Montez locker room.

But Montez wasn't buying it he wanted to know since he trust Jey with his life. "Brother, nothing is happening between him and I; I promise we are just friends." I earned a hum from him as he was smelling bullshit but just left it alone.

I know how overprotective Montez is toward me, especially now since the incident that happened, so of course, he's going to be looking out for me.

I heard Jey's music playing as his match was approaching. I saw him coming out of the gorilla and going towards the ring, mouthing to the camera, "Here I go, here I go." I couldn't help but admire him as I watched him go out there.

He was interacting with the crowd as they waved the hands up and down vibing out with him.

✧˚° I was walking towards the gorilla to congratulate Jey on his win tonight when I felt someone pull me to the side before I could turn. When I turned around, I saw Carmelo next to me with his arms folded.

I rolled my eyes at him, trying to ignore his presence. Walking in, the gorilla saw Jey standing there, his hair all messy and sweating. Man, he never fails to look so good.

He had his back turned, talking to Jonathan about something. As I tapped him on the shoulder, he turned around, noticing my little self gazing up at him.

I still felt Carmelo's presence behind me as Jey gazed down at me with a smile while giving me a hug. I knew that Carmelo was watching, probably fuming right now at the sight.

"Hey, pretty girl you watched my match for tonight?" Jey asked as he kept his hands on my hips.

"Yeah, I did you did a great job out there Josh." I said.

"Thank you, hope I can see you out there I heard you were on hell of an athlete doing flips and shit." I chuckled at him maintaining that eye contact with him god he was so fine and mesmerizing to see.

That's when we heard someone clear their throat behind us, completely forgetting that Carmelo was standing right there with his arms folded, looking at Jey and me. Meanwhile, Jonathan was behind us, knowing that he was protecting me away from him.

Shit both of them were.

"Can we talk in private Yasmine?" Carmelo asked.

"No, I don't wanna speak nor be around you Melo I gotta go home because I'm tired." I said as I felt Jey's hand around my waist.

"Nah it's because you're around this nigga, I told you; you better not find nobody else because you belong to me didn't I?" Jey came in front of me, standing in his face, staring down as they had a face-off with each other.

"She don't belong to nobody like she's some pet show some fucking respect." Jey said sternly.

Carmelo looked him up and down, scoffing before leaving out the gorilla, mouthing that I was going to get it whenever I was alone and not with them, but as long as they were around, he couldn't do a damn thing.

Jey turned around and faced me, signaling Jon that we needed some privacy alone, and that's what he did, leaving me and him alone.

"Thanks for sticking up for me, Josh. That really means a lot," I said, fiddling with my fingers.

"It's all good mama, ion know what's your history with him but he's toxic." Knowing damn well he knew that was your ex-boyfriend me and him walked towards his locker room as he shut the door behind us while I sat down on his couch.

My eyes followed his every move as he took off the gear that he had on; I looked away, scrolling through my socials, not trying to get caught by him.

"Did you drive here to work Yasmine?" He asked.

"Yeah, I did why? Did you want to take me home?"

"I did, actually, that's why I had to ask, but are you good being in here by yourself while I go take a shower?" I nodded my head as he left toward the restrooms, locking the door to make sure nobody came in.

I was on my phone waiting for Joshua to finish when I saw that Montez had texted me.

Big Bro Tez💪🏽 sent 2+ messages IMESSAGE 💬 Big Bro Tez💪🏽: where are you Minks? Big Bro Tez: lemme' know

I know that he's worried about be and my whereabouts but I was with Joshua I am safe.

Minnie🧃: I'm okay Montez I'm in Joshua's locker room right now. Big Bro Tez💪🏽: oh A'ight I was just making sure that's all Minnie🧃: he made sure to lock the door so nobody won't come in Big Bro Tez💪🏽: okay, then little sis I'll see you at home. Minnie🧃: kk

After texting Montez to let him know what was happening, I made sure I had my keys and purse with me. I've seen Jey coming in with some fresh new clothes on, along with his hair still being wet.

"Hey, I'm finna head home Josh." I spoke as he watched me get up from the couch.

"Lemme' walk you to your car then that way I could get to mines as well." Jey replied as I nodded my head while we both walked out the locker room together going towards the garage.

As we were walking down to the garage, I felt his gaze on me, as if he were admiring me. However, I didn't want to catch him in the act, so I just played it off.

He was so bad at hiding it, too, which made me snicker at him, causing him to raise an eyebrow at me. "What's so funny?"  I looked up at him seeing his face being all serious.

"You're funny Joshua, not trying to get caught stealing glances at me or what?" I said in a teasing tone.

"Don't start with that teasing shit Yasmine." I rolled my eyes at him while sticking my tongue out at him.

"Or what? What are you goin' to do Josh?" I was tempting him right now as I could see that same smug expression on his face that he had earlier when we had this similar conversation—running his available hand down his beard.

I finally reached my car, opened the backseat, threw my purse inside, and shut the door.

I felt his hands on my hips turning me around as he cornered me keeping me in place, our faces were close to each other.

"You're honestly testing me Minks."

I shrugged my shoulders at him, folding my arms over my chest.

"What can I say sir, I love to test people's patience so they can fix it." I said boldly, grabbing his face and squeezing his cheeks, his hands slithering down my ass cheeks, squeezing them, causing me to yelp.

"What'chu want me to fix huh? That sassy ass attitude of yours?" Lord have mercy, his deep voice will be the death of me speaking to me like this. All of that confidence just went down the drain after he spoke up like that.

I glanced down at my feet while he gently raised my chin, his fingers brushing his thumb on my lips, and stared deeply at me.

"Don't got nun to say? What happened little mama?"

"Boy, fuck you and move so I can get in the car." He gave me a swat on the ass cheeks, holding them since he enjoys that stuff, me being all snarky towards him.

'I feel like me and his chemistry is there like so there.'

'But I remember what I told myself: don't be vulnerable around anybody or give in. With Joshua he seems so different from the rest.'

Joshua stays that way including eye contact with each other; he is quite patient with me and understanding especially where I am coming from during all of this.

"Fix that attitude."

"No, Josh moveeee." I whined

"Nah, c'mere princess." He scooped me up by the thighs placing me on the trunk of my car getting between my legs.

As he looked down at me with his hooded eyes and I looked up at him with my innocent ones, he was giving me a lot of anxiety right now. He licked his lips while glancing down at my lips and then back to my gaze.

I was unsure of his next move, but I could feel his stiff member between my legs as his hand brushed my cheek and lifted my chin.

"J-Josh...I want to take things slow...I want to get to know you more before anything..." I said softly.

"I understand mama ion' wanna pressure you into anything let's get to know each other a little better and be best friends." He said placing a kiss on my cheek.

This made me blush a little bit while looking away from him for a second. He chuckled at my cuteness before moving away from my legs.

He held his hand out as I took it, getting down from my trunk and fixing myself as he opened my door for me like a true gentleman.

When I got inside my car, he stood there, asking, "Am I going to see you tomorrow?" I nodded my head as he shut my door gently while I pushed the button to start the ignition.

Before I drove off towards the gate, I blew him a kiss. He was so charming, staring down at me like that, that I wondered what would have occurred if we had gone a little farther. I could feel his firm member between my legs, which made me realize he must have been packing.

Because of my commitment difficulties, I do not want to rush things since I am afraid he would cheat on me. Or, while we are currently great friends, find someone else. I began to obsess over it, wondering if Carmelo was correct.  Although she is most likely saying it because it is her brother-in-law, I still want to trust what Trinity said.

I am not sure, but I will continue to protect my heart with this barrier.

SomeThing Bout' Us.

A/n: things between Yasmine and Jey are getting spicy right now but I'm glad that Jey is respecting her and him wanting to be best friends with her.

Carmelo ass finna be shitty when he finds out about them two being all over each other.

But I hope yall enjoy this chapter lmk in the comments below.

Stay Ucey.