#Apparently both of them gave me something??? I don't remember that being a thing is it an update or something????

[pls-just-let-me-marry-yeung]

Is Yau's birthday so I give him a present and he's all like "this is the best present ever here a present too for giving me a present" and I'm like "?????" because I can't remember them doing that you know?

Not only that but he gave me an Infinite Power Rod too 💀

Meanwhile my own boyfriend on his birthday :

[angelsrcute]

SEX OBSESSION. 𝜗𝜚

(´∀｀*)ε｀　) ౨ৎ N–sfw content !! ; Dom!Fyodor and Nikolai + Angel!Sub!Fem!Reader ➜cws: unprotected sex, use of lube, crying, praising, biting, corruption, creampie, double penetration, multiple rounds, fingering, nipple play, blowjob, hair pulling. ᡴꪫ‎

‎ ꒰ † ੭‎ For the event! + Fyodor calls you MIlaya(darling) n Nikolai calls you Myla moya(my dear) ヽ(´▽`)ノ

Curious. You were a very curious angel, oblivious too probably, believing that the world is just so good. For some reason, you met them, Fyodor and Nikolai, apparently from some group called ‘Decay of Angels’, what's that? No clue, but they seem quite nice.

And what were you doing right now? no clue either but you know that whatever they do makes you feel all warm and fuzzy. A sensation you've never felt, it feels so good that you're ready to do it anytime, anywhere. They tell you that it's something very close friends do. Angelic mind all corrupted, well can you blame them? you're just so cute when you beg for them to fuck you stupid!

All you remember is that fyodor was pent up and wanted to get some relief, Nikolai nodded away while giggling. I mean you were living here free of cost so it's only fair that you help your best friend relieve some stress, right? Maybe a movie night, or a game night–

So here you were, sucking Fyodor off while Nikolai worked on your pussy, thrusting two fingers inside you as he whispered sweet praises to your ears, “Such a good angel you are, Myla moya!” Nikolai purred while he was twisting and pinching your nipples, taking them in his mouth as he bit on them gently. Giving each bud equal attention.

Soft muffled gasps and moans left your lips, causing Fyodor to chuckle as he wiped the tears from your eyes, looking prettily at him through your lashes.

“Really, how sinful are you myshka? Aren't you supposed to be a divine being, hm?” He cooed, “God would definitely punish you for such sinful acts.” Earning a whine from you, he knows how devoted you are to the so-called God. More fun to tease you.

You could feel you were close, making your tummy all weird and hot. Fyodor grabs your hair, making you take more of him as he chases his own high, eyes closed as he mumbled something you couldn't focus on. You feel his cock twitch as he climaxes in your mouth, cursing, your eyes rolling back.

“You did a good job, MIlaya, now it's only fair that we return the favour, right?”

Your pussy coming around Nikolai's fingers. He pulled them out, licking up your juices, you were laying your head on Fyodor's thighs, all tired.

You could feel yourself being carried by Fyodor as he put you on the bed. Nikolai in front of your legs while Fyodor was behind you.

“Wait n-no, m’ too tired–” You managed to breathe out.

Well how did it feel being fucked by two cocks? you were absolutely disheveled. Sweat glistening from your forehead, arms wrapped around Nikolai as you bit down on his shoulder. You were so sensitive at this point, you don't remember what round this was but the only thing you could focus on is how good their cocks feel. Shoulders littered with love bites, fyodor played with your hardened nipples.

You were so sensitive, gasping at every movement. They both let out a grunt when they feels your gummy walls clench around them. You can't even let words out, just whimpers and moans.

“Shit, Myla moya, you're hurting me.” Nikolai whines, drawing slow circles on your puffy clit to soothe you. Your eyes all glossy, nail marks visible on Nikolai's shoulder alongside the bite marks you gave him to calm down.

After some time you feel both of them coming inside your holes, filling you up to the brim with their hot n sticky cum. Your stomach bulging a bit. The scent was so intoxicating as you three caught your breaths.

“MIlaya, let me run you a warm bath, you must be tired.” Fyodor let's out a chuckle at how sleepy you were, he caressed your cheeks.

He picked you up as he heard Nikolai pouting about how he also deserves to have that type of treatment too! “Not fairrr! Fedya, run me a bath too..”

Fyodor's lips curl into a smile as he nods and takes you to the bathroom, putting you in the bathtub, Nikolai joins soon after.

[torglives]

lets talk about how corrupted pangi/ls pangi navigates gender expression. pleaseee. like beyond joking about it. because it's been the only thing i've been thinking about since i watched his vod. im so sad

there's two clips i want to reference: clip one, where ros tells him that he wore a bow and he denies ever wanting to do that. ros pulls out a top hat, and pangi says "that's more like it." -- clip two, where he finds the bow in his enderchest and hovers over putting it on for a several seconds, then stops abruptly, and distracts himself with messaging water.

the second clip in particular is the one that really gets me. because he's just learned that this is something he's apparently done. and his hesitance shows that it's not something he truly believes that he wouldn't do, or not want to do, but rather something he is apprehensive of. he's nervous.

when he says "that doesn't seem like something i'd do," what he means is, "that doesn't seem like something i'd let myself do,"

this isn't to say that pangi is repressed on lifesteal, but both servers harbour very different environments, don't they? i mean, pangi's never said it directly, but other lifestealers have. ash just the other day said, "why everyone is so nice here?" -- and it's true not only in gameplay, but also in general politeness. people are kinder here. it's an entirely new environment. and pangi's been surrounded by these people for almost half a year, there is absolutely no doubt that he's changed and grown accustomed to that kindness in that time. the realm gave him understanding, and he's surrounded by people who have not only given him the chance to be more feminine, but encouraged it. these are people who want to see him at his most comfortable, no strings attached.

to put it simply, it's vulnerability. it's expressing himself in a way that he, as far as he's aware, has never done before. a way in which he has never been given the opportunity. and he's in this new place where people tell him things like "i need you," and "i miss you," and "i cared about you," and he doesn't know the faces behind these words. he doesn't know why they're being so nice to him, it's not something he's used to. maybe it's hard for him, and where he is mentally, to acknowledge that he has ever entertained the thought of being open and vulnerable with these people. he was comfortable here. he was safe. he let people not only see that part of him, but trust them enough to understand it, too. and he doesn't remember any of it.

and yeah, i don't necessarily think this was purposeful from pangi "i made it all up on the spot lol" live, but nonetheless, unintentional queer themes are still queer themes. and even without considering his gender expression, it speaks to how comfortable he was on the realm. how truly at home he felt.

[vicolette]

A D(eb)ate !

– A/N : picked random flavors idk.

– Warnings : English isn’t my first language, mentions of y/n & pet names, arguing

"Bro, are you serious?"

"What the fu-" Alejandro almost choked on his own saliva as he raised an eyebrow at your question, although it was mostly due to the nickname that you insisted was 'a bad habit'. He believed that you were lying to him, since you don't call anyone else these silly names that only he gets. "No, are you serious?"

This was supposed to be a cute, little date, since Alejandro had insisted on going out. Ever since FC Barcelona had officially won the La Liga, Alejandro was full of energy – unlike you, due to your pollen allergy.

However, the weather app had said that it wouldn't be so bad today and it was the truth.

The truth, that it would be a cute, little date, though, was a big lie.

The ice cream truck had passed by a few minutes ago, where you two had bought two of them – a strawberry ice cream for you and a mint chocolate for Alejandro. Well, now, as you both sat at a bench not far from the beach, you two were arguing.

About ice cream flavors.

Apparently, Alejandro firstly wanted to buy a watermelon flavored ice cream, which sounded absolutely weird to you. Now, as you two leaned against the headrest of the bench arguing about which flavors are the best ones, your stomach growled.

He gave you a raised eyebrow, before seeing how you haven’t even taken a single bite of it yet, whereas he was halfway done. "Eat your ice cream, before it melts…"

Just before you could roll your eyes at him and finally take a bite, he finished his sentence. "… bro."

Your immediate reaction, which consisted of kicking his feet after you had let out a loud gasp, made him throw his head back and laugh. Silence came from your side afterwards as you realized the impact of being called 'bro' by your own romantic partner, merely eating the ice cream in disbelief.

"Oh my- you should’ve seen your face!" Alejandro continued to laugh before he felt something on his hand, looking down to see his meal beginning to melt. He scoffed and smiled at the absurdity of the situation, but nonetheless continued to eat. "You look hilarious."

"It’s 'looked', bro."

"Nah, 'look'. You have a beard now, bro."

Once he said that, you were genuinely confused as to what he meant, when your eyes suddenly widened as you wiped the remaining parts of ice cream off of your face with your hand. The strawberry flavor made you enjoy it more than you'd like to admit, especially if he had been the one to buy it.

It seemed like getting together with Alejandro was a big mistake, since he kept laughing at how ridiculous you looked like and stared at you, suddenly going quiet. In response, you looked at him up and down to see why he would stare at you now, making him huff.

"I was trying to get you flustered." His words made you snort in disbelief at how confident he was, shaking your head for the thousandth time as you looked at his ice cream. It took him a moment, before a grin spread over his face as he moved his mint chocolate meal closer to your face. "You wanna take a bite?"

One thing that Alejandro knew about you, was that you definitely liked to try his food out; whatever he had wanted to get, he would always offer you, if you gave him the very same look that you had on your face right now.

With a nod, you both exchanged your ice cream and took a bite, with Alejandro raising his eyebrows at how good it tasted. "I actually hate strawberry flavored things, but this is good!"

"Excuse me, what?" You gasped at how he could even dare to say that, your eyes widening in bewilderment. He could only think about how exasperated you were acting, as if he wouldn't say something as absurd as this every single time you two went out to eat.

"What's next – you like onions?" At your comment, Alejandro let out a wheeze at how low your standards were for him now, shaking his head when he remembered how he would always give his mother the onions.

"Well..." As you left your sentence unfinished, you took a proper look at him, before a mean idea popped up in your head. Meanwhile, your boyfriend could only smirk at what you had thought of him, until his smirk faded away at your next few words.

"... You kinda look like an onion."

"What did you just say?"

– A/N : decided to post every two days now bc I lose my motivation so easily if I have to update daily🥀

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

I haven't seen the London special—and I don't want to—but I've read the plot and something just occurred to me.

Why did Bunnyx need Ladybug's help? Why couldn't Bunnyx have figured things out and fixed the timeline herself? I know only the 14-year-old Bunnyx was left, but that gives her ample time to do SOMETHING.

According to Marinette, she believes that the Rabbit Miraculous is actually the most powerful of all the miraculouses. That means a whole lot of responsibility, which she gave to Alix when she let her keep the Rabbit Miraculous PERMANENTLY.

So, why didn't Alix just fix the timelines herself? She was the Present Alix, which means nothing has happened to her at the moment. She could've brainstormed her way into figuring out what happened, who it is, and stopped them herself.

I don't know. Maybe it's just me, but I feel like if you give someone a miraculous that YOU YOURSELF BELIEVE IS THE MOST POWERFUL MIRACULOUS, YOU'D GIVE IT TO SOMEONE WHO CAN ACTUALLY WORK BY THEMSELVES???

And it's not like I'm saying Alix can't ask for help, but it just feels like her first thought was: "I gotta get Ladybug!" And not "Oh my God, the timelines are changing, I have to figure out who it is!"

If Alix is going to run to Ladybug every time the timeline changes, why give her the responsibility of making sure nothing happens to the timeline in the first place??? If it's going to be like that, Ladybug might as well have just kept the Rabbit Miraculous herself, since it seems like she'll be the one shouldering the job anyway.

The show's obsession with making Marinette do everything herself has created massive flaws in the narrative and makes a ton of characters look bad - or at least poorly suited to their hero role - because they generally default to only doing what Marinette tells them to do. The show will even go out of its way to punish characters when they take initiative. If your name isn't Marinette, then initiative is always, always punished. And if your name is Marinette? Then it depends on the writers' mercurial whims and not anything even remotely resembling logic.

Alya suffers the the initiative = bad curse all the time like in Optigami where she decides to take the turtle to the day's fight even though she was only told to take the fox and the bee:

Rena Rouge: Mirage! (an illusion of Ladybug is created) And voila! A cool little Ladybug illusion to keep Style Queen busy while I'll… (Rena Rouge looks at the Turtle Miraculous container on the Miracle Box and takes the Miraculous) Longg: Did the guardian ask you to do that? Rena Rouge: Just a precaution.

This should have been Alya's moment to shine. A moment where she took initiative and it paid off, showing Marinette that she could trust others to make their own calls. Instead, this choice is painted as Alya being blinded by her love for Nino and leads to Shadow Moth almost getting the turtle because he just so happened to make a perfect clone of Nino and Alya unknowingly gave the clone the turtle. (Why does this show love evil twins so much? This is basically a the same plot as the season four final. Get a new gimmick! This one is just dumb.)

Even more annoyingly, the one who unmasks sentiNino isn't his girlfriend, it's Ladybug even though the thing that exposes sentiNino is something unique to Nino and Alya:

Ladybug: I guess it was only here to help repair everything. (looks confused when she sees her compact mirror) (Sentinino gives Alya a simple hi-five) (Ladybug remembers Alya and Nino's special hi-five in a flashback) Ladybug: (looks at both of them with curious look) We're gonna have to be a lot more careful now. Shadow Moth knows the identities of some of the people I have given a miraculous and apparently he's decided to use this information. (looks at Sentinino) Isn't that right, Shadow Moth? (Alya becomes shocked, and Sentinino panicks as he got exposed) Ladybug: I'm sorry Alya, you better move away from him. This isn't Nino, it's a Sentimonster. Alya: Huh? (gasps)

It's Alya and Nino's special handshake!!! Alya should be the one to figure it out, not Ladybug!!! Writers, stop this! Let Marinette have competent allies! She's not suddenly less cool if other people are useful! Also, stop making love a bad thing! Alya and Marinette both suffer every time they're open with their love interest and I hate it. Whatever happened to romantic love being a good thing?

Anyway, all of the Optigami nonsense leads to an ending that makes zero sense:

Alya: Shadow Moth almost unmasked you because of me. I should have never taken the Turtle Miraculous. Marinette: It's true, you did make a mistake, and that's why I'm gonna have to make a difficult decision. The most important thing is to learn from our mistakes. And today, I learned that I need an ally who can replace me in case something happens to me one day. (hands Alya the Fox Miraculous) From now on, you will keep the Miraculous of the Fox with you, and I'm gonna tell you everything I know.

This ending does not fit the episode in the slightest. Why does Alya's failure make her promotion material? How was the turtle even a failure when it would have been fine if that was really Nino? How was anyone supposed to tell that wasn't Nino when the peacock is so stupidly overpowered? It's so dumb!

This episode should have been Alya earning her promotion by being awesome, taking initiative, and noticing things Marinette didn't. What is the point of having a reporter who never notices things? Why does Marinette decide to give Alya secret knowledge and a full-time miraculous in an episode that was all about Shadow Moth almost winning because he knows the temp heroes' identities? Why does nothing about this show make sense? Writers, what are you doing???

The saddest thing about this Marinette-first approach is that it's not even making Marinette look good. This goes beyond the asinine "Marinette must always be wrong" rule. The problem here is that the narrative has made many of the secondary characters feel incredibly important. As a result, the audience naturally expects those characters to have important roles. When those character are then denied the roles that they should have, the audience gets angry and the anger usually gets directed at Marinette. For many viewers, it feels like she's hogging the spotlight and denying herself help even thought those things are poorly thought-out choices made by the writers and not intentional flaws that are meant to be part of Marinette's character.

I know one person whose favorite character is Alix, Alya is one of mine, and a huge portion of the fandom loves Adrien. All characters who should have been allowed to shine, but who got shoved to the side in favor of Marinette. The casual watcher is not going to blame the writing for that. They're going to get mad at Marinette because she's basically the avatar of the bad writing, forced to do the most asinine things so that she maintains the spotlight even if it's slowly killing her character while making every other character look pathetic and/or ineffectual.

[iamhereinthebg]

Heya Anon!

Tbh I don't really know, Akane is a character who has been dealing with a thousand death flags leading to nothing since his most serious appareance in the manga. And this new timeline is not an exception.

Especially since we know that Kako and Mirai gave him 'You have to try to stay alive' rule as one of his duties

Implying that it is dangerous to altern the past and be the Clock Keeper of the Present, that they have to stay alive to make sure everything goes according to plan.

It also ties to my theory that Akane is the first human clock keeper of the present; Because after all if Kako and Mirai have been asleep since they changed the past in this new timeline, they couldn't have chosen anyone during 1968 and the current events in the manga (2015).

Akane is the only person who is directly coming from a different timeline even compared to Nene and Teru who just remember the stuff from the previous one, being on a time limit before their memories are erased. Akane brought along with him the fact that he is a clock keepers and mystery n°1, something he couldn't be in this new timeline in the first place since both of them don't exist.

But I digress.

Akane has been a little bit different since they came back from the boundary closest to the far shore. It's not that surprising with how much the previous arc must have taken a toll on him. Understanding that Aoi wanted to die, losing her, being impaled, having Teru confirming that he will lose years of his lifespan by turning back human too soon, being beaten up twice by number 6, etc...

Akane is like Kou and Nene on this point, a character who wants to do a lot, but is always a step behind when it comes to supernaturals. And like the other two, it is starting to show in his attitude.

Akane has been shown more unsure of his choices and of his opinions when it's something that never posed him a problem before. He is more scared of Teru (when he knows the exorcist by now) and of being hurt in general,. Something he hasn't showed as much before, liking and enjoying life of course, but never being afraid to be in the first line even if it meant being hurt; Now he acts like he is truly scared of dying.

And he lets things involving Aoi not being his first priority. Refusing to listen to Natsuhiko plan to even try to heal her. Akane has always been showed to be really proactive anyways, that's one of his main character trait. So seeing that he is putting something for a later date and it involves Aoi can be seen as a little bit strange. Akane still loves her deeply and all but he seems to have other plans now, which we learn later in the clock keeper arc. He is not even looking at her directly, having an air of melancholy when he announces he will heal her but not now

That's more of a stretch now, but I think it's pretty safe to assume that Akane has known since a long time what it meant to be the clock keeper of the present, that they had the power to change the timeline. But nothing special has been happening to make the clock keepers take this drastic decision, especially since we know that nothing has been ever changed since the Yugi Twins 4th birthday at least. Which is why he probably never thought about it before. But now that he knows the school mysteries are more important, not just dangerous supernaturals but are protecting the land, and that Hanako has been destroying the yorishiros (which to me, seem to be the seals to keep away the God from the pit/the God Sumire was supposed to marry) he seems to be more aware of this duty in general.

Or if he was made aware of it recently anyways, it's something that the clock keepers must have brought up before the fall festival, being something that even someone as 'Carpe Diem, it is what it is' Aoi Akane may not be able to entirely ignore.

He has been forced A LOT in his role lately too and he clearly doesn't really like it, even if he is good at it.

He finally say 'we' when talking about the clock keepers, and consider even himself as the biggest threat of the school. He doesn't know what to think directly of the supernaturals or seven mysteries now. Knowing that they have an important role to fulfill but still not trusting them at all, knowing of their dangerous tendencies to hurt humans. He can't even look Teru in the eyes when he asks him if the clock keepers are planning to change the timeline over and over again. His feelings for the clock keepers being clearly a difficult case for him to tackle down even if he pretends it's not.

I always said this kinda as a joke, that Akane had the role of a Chosen One but went 'fck no' with it. But I think that it really is this kind of stuff now. Like for Nene who is 'the Kannagi' of the current time and get to make choices and stuff she doesn't want to do. Akane is the same with his role as the clock keeper of the present. Because no matter what he says, he kinda has accepted this fate now, preferring to know what is happening (since he realizes how ignorant he was in the "to the far shore" arc), and having a way to be able to change things. Sacrifying his chance to be 'a normal student'.

But he is not happy with any of it, being the one on the front row to endure all of the supernaturals choices, even knowing that if they don't change back the timeline, he will be the last one to remember. And as said previously, he is now a part of it! He is of course still more human than supernatural but he still acknowledges his role way more than before. Akane hates the way supernaturals work and now what he is doing? Being one of the reason the world is in this state. Of course it's taking a toll on him.

Of course, he doesn't accept everything right away, like Aoi's engagement, it's at first played for jokes but even then, it's understandable with how far their relationship evolved in the previous timeline. He is now thrown into the role of 'the childhood friend who never stood a chance in the first place'. I do think he has a right to be a little bit upset

But after understanding that technically, it's not that much of a big deals in the current events of everything else, since at first most people seems okay, he goes right away to do what the clock keepers asked him to do. Even going to go ask for Teru's help when he knows how much he destroyed his trust.

To finish this long stuff, I think the real big ''death flags' for what is happening right now is of course the fact that he got cursed by the red house (which is a supernatural who has already tried to fool him in the og timeline btw) .

And that there is a chance, like said earlier, that there is only one Akane like him for now, and that he could get stuck here or at least not coming back entirely as the Aoi Akane we knew in the manga (a chance for him to become a full supernatural for example, to be forever now the clock keeper of the present) But for this tbh we don't know a lot it's really more speculation because we know nothing of what could happen to him particulary.

My fav 'suspicious af thing he said' for now in the new timeline is this.

The official translation goes " .. And will love my whole life to the day I die and even beyond that."

When he starts the manga with this.

With the same belief than Hanako that 'death is the end' and now he is considering the After Death, with everything he saw of course, but specifically for him in this case.

Bonus: a thing that is apparently confirmed to be a lie, or he can bend the rules, but he didn't say this in front of Teru and Nene the first time.

And something that I truly think he doesn't know anything about too (my brain truly think Kako and Mirai choose him, and I have some delulu proofs but I digress) Akane do not know sht about the clock keepers and especially doesn't see when people show clear interest in him

[bloodyjuls-blog]

Im gonna fight for both of us

P4

So here we go with part 4, sorry it takes me too long but I'm working and hate work haha...

When Alexia entered the hospital she had no idea what she would find there, in one hand, she could find y/n awake but with some tiny injuries (it was what she wished) but what she found was a nurse informing her that they needed someone to give consent to perform an emergency surgery because y/n's accident is a serious life threatening emergency and Alexia knew well, the only person who could do that was your sister, she had the obligation to call her and inform her, she didn't bother to call your parents because she knew that you were not the most beloved daughter in that family, moreover, she knew that they wouldn't even miss you if you died, because she heard many conversations with them in which they clearly told you that you were a failure.

While Lilah, your sister, gave the authorization over the phone, the doctors explained to Alexia what had happened to y/n. First, when they arrived at the hospital y/n went into cardiac arrest due to the impact, then doing a general sweep they found cervical and spinal injuries that compromise her mobility, hence the emergency surgery. What worries them the most is the injury of her brain, apparently it has a severe inflammation and they are concerned that when she wakes up (if she does) she will have compromised her cognitive functions such as speaking, moving, remembering things, most likely she will have memory loss.

When her sister arrived at the hospital she was furious, how was it possible that y/n was drinking again and doing these things as irresponsible. Alexia got angry and said a few things to her.

"Look, I don't think that looking for blames is the solution, what I think is that we should support each other without blaming in favor of y/n not dying, because I swear that if she dies I am going with her, you don't understand the things she was going through, and being honest neither did I, and if looking for blames then blame me because I was the one insisting" Alexia said. "Insist on what, what did you say Alexia" says y/n's sister "I insisted so much on the idea of starting a family, having children, that without those things I couldn't continue with her, that all this time was lost, but I swear it's not like that, it hurts me a lot to know that probably the only thing she heard from me was that while she's always being the loveliest person she is told me that for her the family was me and she didn't need children while she was with me, you don't know how much I regret it." Says Alexia crying and Lilah just approached and hugged her. At the end of the day their relationship is very close. "Ale calm down a little and come let's sit down, I think I understand why y/n is like this with the family thing and maybe when y/n wakes up it will kill me because it's something she didn't want you to know" lilah says calmly. They settled into the waiting room chairs.

"Since she was very little, my sister has always been the black sheep, the daughter that nobody wanted, the girl that when she had the opportunity to left home she did and never came back, you know Alexia when my sister left I was very sad but as an older sister I always saw the mistreatment and never said anything, she stopped going to so many events, so many Christmas reunions, so many birthdays or things like that because she simply knew that they didn't want her, they didn't show it love of support, the only thing that accompanied her in her gray days and well not so gray, was her bottle of whiskey, what can you ask from a teenager who has social pressure for what she does and no support or family that can tuck her in and tell her that everything will be okay" says the sister between soft tears. "I didn't know that, I thought that since she was also getting along with you..." Ale said remembering the phone calls from your parents.

"Of course Ale, you more than anyone knows that she is not one of those people who scream her problems and plead for help, she didn't want you to see her as something weird, that's why she gets along so well with your family, she found love in you, to feel loved, tucked in by someone, valued, no matter what and luckily your family is just like you, if you see the relationship my parents have with me and have with her you would surely get angry because you and I know what is y/n and how important it is to have her in our lives, Ale I'm not going to lie to you, a while ago I also thought that my sister wanted to be a mother because you know mate, look at how she treats the children, they have a very special relationship, very nice, she is a pure soul, but all her life she has seen examples of how not to be parents, how my mother ignored her and her things, Alexia the fact that my parents are not here is not new, when that 17 year old girl in her peak career broke her cruciate ligament, nobody was there for her, not even to give her a bottle of water, and because of that and more things is that y/n is super strong and every thing she sets in her mind to do she achieves it. For many years it was just her against the world and she has lived many blows without saying a word, so if she gets out of here you will understand that it will be very difficult, she will need a lot of support because according to what I have been told, her injuries are serious, probably the only thing that keeps her alive is football and she won't can do that anymore" says Lilah calmer. "I swear Lilah when y/n gets out of here things will be different, I would have liked to have this same talk but with her and avoid this bump in our road but life gives some people a lot and others very little, I swear I will be in her way as long as she lets me, that girl deserves nothing but good things and I believe that all the people she has given her love have let her down in a certain way, but just like you, I also want to do well, did you know that at home I have the ring to propose to her? I swear that without it I can't live" says Alexia more calm and confident. "I'm glad to hear that Ale, you two do each other good, please don't lose that, you're all would be miserable for life and that's not what you're all deserve." Lilah said as she gave Alexia a hug.

Hours later

"Relatives of y/n y/l" says the receptionist on the OR floor. "We are" say Lilah and Alexia at the same time. "The doctor is cleaning up but he's on his way here to report his relative" says the girl stoically. "Thank you very much" they both say in unison.

Once in the study room with the doctor....

"Well, I must say that it was a very complicated surgery because we found internal injuries that we couldn't see in the x-ray and that compromised her health, I am not lying when I say that she went into cardiac arrest at least three times and that worries us a lot because it means that her heart is weak. About her cervical injuries I am afraid that only when she wakes up we will be able to know if she has sensitivity in her legs and if she will be able to walk again, but I must admit that because of the blows her spinal cord has been affected, I want to be very realistic with you, if we manage to have a satisfactory recovery it will be very difficult for her to return to her profession, because the high impact can cause definitive injuries, now my colleagues are monitoring her brain signals because in the resonance we saw very few but we can guarantee that there is no brain death, but any sequels will be determined once she wakes up, at the moment she is not in coma but she was not awake either, we have implemented a method of sedation a little strong but I insist she is not in coma, so now later when the entrance to her relatives is authorized you're all can talk to her, in this state she can listen hope so. Of course, the view that you are going to find is very strong, because she is connected to many tubes and intravenous lines, also her external injuries are a little strong and her foot has an external fixator because there was a fracture of the tibia and fibula". Says the doctor super calm but forceful.

"thank you very much doctor, the fact that she is still alive is because of your effort, let's hope that the evolution is positive, sure it is" says Lilah calm and Alexia super scared because she doesn't understand anything. "Well Ale, y/n is not well and there are strong changes coming in her life and the only thing we have left to do is be by her side to make it as bearable as possible, I am not so much worried about her physical injuries but mental then we must make sure that when she gets out of here she gets psychological attention, and have faith that she will get out of this because she is a super strong person, she always has been and this will be just a very fat bump for her, are you ready to see her" Lilah says optimistic. "I don't know, I just know that if I will always be even if she doesn't want me to, it will be hard for me to see her like this but that's okay" Alexia says forcefully. Alexia's phone starts ringing, it's Ana and Leah on joint call.

"Hi girls."

"Hi Alexia, what happened to y/n, did you find her" says Ana worried.

"Girls, y/n was involved in an accident and it's serious" says Alexia with her voice cracking remembering the anguish experienced a few hours ago.

"How???? What do you mean accident and serious????, my goodness" says Leah in dismay.

"Yes girls, apparently her car overturned at high speed on Tibidabo and her injuries are serious, she probably won't be able to play football anymore" "if you want to come I'm sure y/n would really appreciate it" says Ale sadly.

"I'm already looking at flights to Barcelona, I just can't believe it, what a downer girls, I'm so sad" says Leah in tears.

"Ale tells me which hospital you are, I'm on my way" says Ana in a hurry.

"We are in the one near Tibidabo" "now I'm sending you the location, I'm going to hang up, I'm going to go in to see my baby" and Alexia hung up.

Before entering the room Alexia calls the team managers to discuss what happened and they tell her not to worry that everything is going to be fine and that she can take all the time in the world to be with y/n.

Lilah takes Alexia's hand and asks her if she is ready to go in to which Ale nods not so sure....

When they enter the first thing they see is y/n lying on the bed with many tubes everywhere, one coming out of her mouth, IV in her arms, one in her leg and the fixator in her ankle adding the bandage on her head (because nothing can be seen from her spine but that's where her surgery was) a tube coming out of her side, Alexia's heart breaks in little pieces to see her like this, the love of her life lying on a bed fighting for her life....

"Ale, talk to her and hold her hand, so she could feel you are here, with her, while I go make some calls" "Ok" alexia says.

"Hello my love, I know that the last time I spoke to you I didn't say very nice things but I want you to know that they're not true, I was very angry with you, it is that you are a stubborn honey, why don't you tell me your things, my life you are going to be very well. You are going to recover and although everything will be very different I am going to be with your sister and you all the way, you are going to be well, healthy, strong and laughing at life as always, I am sad to see you like this, I don't like to see that you are having a bad time, I only ask you to fight and stay here with me, don't go without me, I love you so much, all the girls are worried, even Leah is coming from London later and Ana is on her way, I'm sure that when they see me they will want to tear my head off for being stubborn, and you should know that I don't mind not having children but as long as I have you, nothing happens. .. We will buy the little house on the beach that we want so much and we will be very happy my love, I cannot do without you, you are my life, you have always been my life, I love you, very much and I will not leave here and go home without you. I love you too much, you can't imagine how much..." Alexia says through tears as she comes over and gives you a little kiss on your uninjured cheek. She arranges the chair next to you and doesn't let go of your hand, trying to give you some human warmth in that cold room. And she falls asleep for a while to the sound of the monitors lulling her to sleep.

[sunny374940]

Writing Challenge Weekend-Davrin Edition

Hi @thedissonantverses, thank you for the tag <3 (I'm sure it's still the weekend somewhere :D).

So I picked 7 (Come on feet don’t fail me now) and 15 (Assan needs a bath), cause I was feeling silly and this thing fell out.

Horrible smelling foam

“So, what are we doing today? Truffle hunting? Target practice? Sightseeing? I know a handful of statues you might like.”

Davrin groaned. “Make one more pun and I'm throwing you in the river.”

“Aw, you're no fun again,” Rook laughed, nudging him with a shoulder.

“Not where your dumb puns are concerned,” Davrin chuckled, giving him a nudge back.

Assan was running in front of them and he looked twitchy today. He kept stopping and nipping at his sides and scratching himself.

“Is Assan feeling alright?” Rook asked.

“Yeah, everything's fine,” Davrin said with an extremely shifty look.

“Davrin?” 

“What? It's nothing.” Davrin was completely failing at being convincing.

“If this is like the time you used me as bait for Assan, I'm out.”

“Nah, it's not like that. He's got fleas.”

“Fleas.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Did he get them from the nugs?”

Davrin gave a defeated sigh. “Yeah. And he needs a-” his voice dropped to a whisper “-bath.”

“And you need my help specifically to give him one? I remember the last time you gave him a bath, the screeching-”

Assan's alarmed squawk cut him off mid-sentence. 

Davrin groaned. “Now you've done it.”

“What did I do?”

“You said the b-word.”

“Bath? He would have found out anyw-”

And Assan was gone in a great flapping of wings. They took off running after him.

“Assan! Come back, boy!”

“I don't think he's gonna come back right now!”

They must have run through half of Arlathan. Rook’s hair was full of twigs from when he had to fight his way through some bushes, Davrin was muddy after he slid down a slope he hadn’t noticed and they were both getting out of breath. But Assan luckily got bored of the chase and settled in a very tall pine tree. He looked so smug up there, lounging like a cat.

“Assan, come down, I've got gingerwort truffles,” Davrin called to him between gasps for air.

A negative squawk.

“I think he knows you're lying,” Rook wheezed at him.

“Come on, a little bath never hurt anyone,” Davrin tried and Assan hissed indignantly and moved up a branch. He apparently begged to differ.

Davrin turned to Rook. “A little help?”

“Assan! Emmrich won't let you play with Manfred if you keep the fleas!” Rook called up. Assan tilted his head in consideration and made a questioning trill.

“I mean it, Emmrich hates fleas.”

Assan shot straight down to land in front of them. He shook himself off, scratched at his side with a back leg and trotted towards the river.

“Wow,” Rook breathed out. “I can't believe that worked.”

“Me neither. Let's go before he changes his mind.”

Assan was already splashing around in the shallows and bounded to them when they got closer. 

“Good boy,” Davrin said, patting his head. 

But giving a bath to a reluctantly cooperating griffon was a messy affair. He got himself wet alright, but the shampoo was… something.

“What’s in that?” Rook asked, wrinkling his nose at the smell.

Davrin looked like he was trying not to breathe. “I don't know. Herbs? Harding swore up and down it works on mabari.”

Assan took a sniff and backed away.

“C'mon, boy. If you don’t like the smell, the fleas certainly won't.”

Davrin put a glob of the stuff in his palm and gave the bottle to Rook, who did the same. They inched closer to Assan, who was clicking his beak at them.

“He won't bite, will he?” Rook whispered.

“Nah, he's just pretending. He knows that griffons who bite get their gingerwort privileges revoked.”

Davrin reached out with the shampoo and even though Assan really didn't bite, the next few minutes were best left forgotten in Rook’s opinion. There was too much splashing and horrible smelling foam and a lot of screeching. A Lot of it. Both Rook and Davrin were toppled over and into the water several times by an utterly disgusted and very foamy griffon and Rook was seriously regretting ever agreeing to this outing. And then Assan decided he'd had enough and dove underwater to rinse himself off, to Rook’s immense relief. 

Davrin sat down on the riverbank, huffing out an exhausted breath, and Rook flopped on his back next to him. They were drenched. At least the day was warm. 

Assan came out of the water and shook himself off vigorously, but there was no way that could get them wetter than they already were. Davrin flopped on his back too.

“Hey, Rook?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks for the help.”

“Anytime. But I think I can just deal with fleas in the Lighthouse next time this happens. The shampoo really stinks.”

“Yeah. I'll make the fleas little beds. They can sleep in your room.”

“Only if they're fancy beds.”

“Only the fanciest for you.”

“Thanks.”

Assan curled up between them and closed his eyes. He was almost dry and his feathers were gleaming. And Rook’s hair was still full of twigs and Davrin was still muddy. It felt a touch unfair. Rook reached out to pet Assan and Davrin did too to Assan's delight, which he announced by a trilling purr.

“You know what? Assan's right. I'm taking a nap too,” Rook said. He was exhausted and lying there in the sun felt very nice.

“Good call. Wake me up if something tries to eat us.”

Rook yawned. “Sure. Don't wake me up if there's fleas again.”

Davrin's chuckle was broken off with a yawn of his own. “I'll put them in your pockets.”

Assan clicked his beak at them.

“Yeah, yeah, I get it,” Davrin laughed. “Less talking, more petting.”

Rook was running his fingers through the soft feathers on Assan's back and Davrin started humming quietly. This really was nice.

[misc-obeyme]

Wait a minute, Barbatos listens to heavy metal? In which of the games is the sacred chat that included this juicy little fact mentioned? Is it a daily chat or is it obtainable from a card?

Affinity with heavy metal suits him very well, honestly.

I absolutely love when a character's personality is founded on a particular 'theme,' a specific range of generally interconnected interests, as well as a determined set of qualities—only for an unrelated/unexpected trait, quirk, hobby, talent or interest to sneak up and add a quaint pop of entertainment and relatability to their person.

Barbatos adores tea, likes cleaning, and tends to tiny demons, which are all things that give a sort of serene, domestic tinge to his figure. Yet, he indulges in the genre of heavy metal. And I think that that's such a satisfying, realistic shade to his personality palette because the truth is that one individual can hold so many differences within them, and some of those differences may at times be starkly opposing. And that is so intriguing.

Except in this case, I don't think Barbatos's appreciation for heavy metal is 'unrelated' to him per se or even a difference at all; in fact, it's woven with his being and who he is. Because of course, despite the calmness, fondness for tea, and intricate skills in making all sorts of sweet and savoury delicacies—aspects that craft an almost soft, meditative aura around him—he's also a thinker with a sense of wisdom and a badass who displays a multitude of talents while appreciating a musical genre famous for its loud intensity (which at first glance 'opposes' his general calm image and eloquent manner of speech).

So this is where I point out that this very 'difference' is perfect, since it's also a core similarity in and of itself; after all, Barbatos is intense and thoughtful, just like heavy metal itself (even though the genre has this unfair, unfortunate stereotype of being 'aggressive noise only'). What I mean to say is, this preference Barbatos has is merely an extension of his self and a representation of the parts of it that are not immediately apparent. It may seem startling at the beginning, but in my opinion, it makes so much sense that he would appreciate heavy metal.

He has lived for a very, very long time and that existence came with thousands upon thousands of experiences that shaped his mindset, temperament and wisdom, as well as gave him depth. I assume he found that heavy metal resonates with him in some ways. Perhaps it is not only admiration for the deep lyrics or relation to them, but also how the intense volume might help him vicariously express certain emotions.

In all honesty, it would be nice to see what young Barbatos was like. Now it's just rats that make him lose his marbles and go from 0 to 100 in the course of a millisecond. His anger is often pretty much covert otherwise. How interesting it would be to catch a glimpse of his wild days of youth—Barbatos being outwardly wrathful, spitting out what's on his mind without restraint, immediately resorting to violence, and even getting jealous because he's still young and hasn't yet attained the wisdom and maturity all that experience has to offer.

This is way longer than I intended it to be, but the subject piqued my interest, I love rock and admire the depth of thought in it and heavy metal, and overanalysing and overthinking are best friends of mine lol

The chat is from OG and I'm like... 99.999% sure that it's with the group The Fantastic Three. I remember Lucifer apologizing for Asmo who decided to perform some heavy metal at an event or something. And Barbatos was like, actually I like heavy metal. And Lucifer and Diavolo were both like ???

But for the life of me, I cannot find it. I thought it was a daily chat, but I can't find it. Maybe it's from a card? Does anyone know exactly which chat that is??

Anyway, I agree with everything you're saying. I very much headcanon that Barbatos has a lot of depth that we simply don't see. This because he hides it deliberately. I think he does this because he feels he has to have a certain demeanor, not just as Diavolo's butler and as a role model to him, but also because he feels he was too wild in his past. He wants to project that image of perfect calm and competence.

Despite all that, Barbatos is still a being with emotions and I really like the idea that heavy metal in particular speaks to him. Listening to it allows him to sit with some feelings that he normally represses. It helps him work through them instead of letting them fester.

I also think an indication of a well written character is when that character has unexpected traits. It's impossible to make a character as nuanced as a real person, but you can create the illusion of it by giving them depth. Barbatos feels like he has so much happening beneath the surface, so many pieces to him that we haven't discovered yet. It's one of the reasons I love him so much.

Who is he when he lets himself go? I have spent too much time thinking about that.

And how interesting it would be to see how he was when he was younger...

[regicidal-defenestration]

Do you think Susan doctorwho and Susan discworld would be friends or are they so similar that they would bounce apart like magnets

Susan Sto Helit, who had never before had cause to full-name herself in the comfort of her own mind, was beginning to get a headache.

“Sorry miss. You know the rule about doppelgangers.”

“But she is evidently not me!”

She was, apparently, also called Susan, and also had a grandfather. That couldn't be that unusual though, could it?

“I don't get involved in fighting over which of you is the real one.”

“She doesn't even look like me!”

“Now miss,” Igor said reproachfully. “That doesn't mean anything. My cousin Igor had top surgery[1] last week and is completely unrecognisable. Happy as anything now, he is.”

Susan gave up. Other Susan was sitting by one of the dirty windows. In contrast to every other customer in Biers she was paying attention to the world around her, watching people come and go with interest. On the table in front of her was the glass of water (because she looked about seventeen, and Igor had strict standards) that meant Susan couldn't get herself a pint of beer (because Igor had strict rules). This called for direct action.

"You're not here on a dare, because we would've heard your friends outside," Susan said, sitting herself down in the chair opposite. "Nobody ends up in Biers accidently, other than Mrs Gammage. So: what are you doing here?"

"I'm waiting for my grandfather," said Other Susan simply, before cocking her head curiously. "Why does the barman think you're me?"

Drat! She'd even spotted Other Susan paying attention to the goings-on in the bar, but had forgotten she was part of it too.

"Oh! You're fading out of my notice! That's very clever, do you have some sort of wearable perception filter?"

Drat! With a force of will, Susan kept herself present. There was something about Other Susan. Something un-human, yes, but then they were in Biers, that was like being surprised to find your forks in the kitchen drawers. Something else: something that bent the space around her, just a little. A force pressing on the world, a stationary body despite the motion of reality.

It was the kind of thing she'd expect from Death, or an oh god, or even, sometimes, despite her best efforts, from herself. Not so much from a seventeen year old girl hanging around a pub with her glass of water.

“Igor says we're the same because we share a first name and both have a grandfather. What do you make of that?”

It wasn't lost on Susan that the girl had been avoiding her questions by asking others.

“Two points is only coincidence. There must be lots of other Susans with grandfathers here.”

“Here, as in Ankh-Morpork maybe. Here as in Biers is more unusual. I saw you watching the people in here. What did you notice about them?”

Slipping into teaching mode was only slightly harder than slipping out of perception. For her part, Other Susan was an excellent pupil, given each question careful consideration, even if her answers were far from the ones you'd find in a textbook.

“Nobody here is human, other than maybe you. I felt it when I walked by, the slight psychic barrier turning your attention away. Grandfather has one like it around the ship, I decided it would be a good place to wait for him.”

Not human? Well, it was nice for Susan's suspicions to be proven right. The girl didn't exactly look it, but Susan tried not to be prejudiced. Instead, she asked:

“Ship?”

“Oh, yes! Grandfather and I travel through time and space in it. I suppose it isn't impossible for us to be the same person then: you're from my future, and you don't remember any of this because it hasn't happened to me yet.”

Perception filters. Time ships. Meeting yourself coming the other way. Susan was beginning to feel like she'd wandered into the wrong genre. Before she could say anything, Other Susan's face lit up.

"Grandfather!”

Susan turned to face the new arrival and immediately regretted it. Her headache flared, twin icicles stabbed into her eyes.

Where Other Susan bent space around her a little, this old man was an inescapable void, a marble statue untouched by the storm of reality. All living beings had the touch of death on them - Susan usually only felt it when Death was going through one of his funny moods and left the job to her - but he had something else entirely, she could tell even now, death that curled back in on itself until it became life again. The same thing she'd felt in Other Susan but even stronger, growing over his many years.

And Susan, who was a teacher and tried to be a good example, and who took things in her stride rather than swearing at them, and who never used The Voice unless she really had to, said:

OH, BUGGER.

---

[1] That is, he had his whole top half surgically replaced.

[thisgirlnamedblusy]

Hello! I really love your work! Please rest if you need to!

Can you please do Donna x Reincarnated!Reader?

So apparently they were childhood friends (who crushes each other but never officially in relationship) but R died and Donna became the even more reclusive as she is. However, decades later a researcher from outside the village came to do some research and she has the same face as R, turns out it was R who got reincarnated. But R has no memories or whatsoever, but frequently got dejavus or dream about the Manor, dolls, and a faceless woman (who is ofc Donna). R feels very familiar with the house and take residence in the manor with Miranda's suggestion. And Donna tries to get closer to R, knowing it is R reincarnated and they were kinda yearning for each other a lot during the times they live tgt, but Donna being Donna, she's too shy and pessimistic with her "deformed" face (eventho Past!R said Donna's past scarred face when Donna was young is beautiful) and she eventually take off her veil and R still found her so beautiful and enamored all over again. Even more~

Also Angie can be the wingman for both of them~ until they both confessed to each other and got together then R remembers everything.

It can be angsty or hurt/comfort with lots of fluff :3

Yesss!!! Thank you for your words, and for your request!!! I hope you like it and sorry about the language mistakes!!! :)))))

I know who you were

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem! Reincarnated! Reader

Warnings: Angst, Donna being Donna, fluff, happy ending, as always ;)

Word count: 9,039

Summary: Why? Why is everything in that house so familiar to you?

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

Tanti auguri a te…

That innocent birthday song was overshadowed by a few claps, while someone, someone you weren't able to make out, blew out the candles on a cake. The number on them was 16, you'd have to remember that.

“Come on D… make a wish,” you said excitedly, happy for the joy of that person, that girl who had no face, who had no name.

“Oh… I…” the mysterious girl stammered, with a distorted voice, an impossible one to understand clearly. “Okay, I wish…”

“No, no, if you say it, it will never come true!” you shouted.

“She's right, Mistress…” another dark voice said, it seemed like a man's voice. “Try to say it mentally.”

“Could Angie also make a wish?” that broken, blurry, dark voice said. Angie, a name you should remember…

“Hey, stranger,” a male voice brought you out of that little nap. The car was no longer moving. You had reached your destination. “Wake up, we're here.”

“Ugh…” you protested, yawning, quickly taking out the notebook you always carried with you and writing down those details that seemed relevant:

16 years old

Angie

“Are you going to stay there all day?” the taxi driver insisted, in an unpleasant way, but with a tremor in his voice that revealed something different, an unknown fear.

You frowned, picking up your backpack and getting out of the vehicle after paying the man, who seemed to sigh in relief.

“I see that kindness is not your thing,” you murmured, still sleepy. The man laughed, shaking his head.

“Not when a foreigner asks me to take her here,” he defended himself, counting the money you gave him. “Let me give you some advice…”

You nodded curiously, putting your backpack on your shoulders, checking that your phone had no signal, so you snorted.

“Don't let the wolves eat you…” the taxi driver said laughing, starting the car and disappearing down that snowy road.

“How funny, look how I laugh,” you said in a mocking tone, with a face of displeasure. “Anyway…”

After taking a look around, you finally saw the village, your destination. As you went down those dangerous hills, you took out the paper you had in your pocket, one that only had one name written on it: Miranda.

Your trip to Europe was not a coincidence, or something you wanted to do while you had finished college. No, it was something different. As a student of plants, of ecosystems, your intention was to investigate that place, one that your own parents recommended to you.

They were scientists. They dedicated their entire lives to the amazing field of biology. As a good daughter, you followed in their footsteps, trying to complete your doctorate with something new, something original. Your parents were the ones who told you about that place, that village where they worked years ago, with another scientist, the so-called Miranda.

Without thinking much, you headed to Romania, alone, willing to make them proud.

“Excuse me, miss,” you said kindly to a villager you crossed on the way. The woman looked at you suspiciously and stopped. “Do you know where Miranda lives?”

The woman opened her eyes and shook her head, walking away from you with a scared face.

“Oh, okay,” you said, crossing your arms, taking a look at that sinister place. Your eyes narrowed while in your head your thoughts seemed to find that place in one of your memories, in one of your dreams.

You may have been a scientist, but not even the most experienced doctor could tell you the meaning of those recurring dreams, strange dreams about houses, dolls, faceless girls...

You had been dreaming about those things for so long that you started your own research. Everything was always blurry. You would forget it after a few hours, so you decided to write it down. You didn't know if you could ever solve the mystery, but at least it wasn't always present in your mind.

“(Y/N), right?” a voice behind you, along with that slightly sinister atmosphere, made you jump in place.

Behind you was a woman, a strange woman dressed in priestess clothing, blonde, elegant, with a smug smile.

“Oh, yes, it's me,” you said nervously, embarrassed by your reaction. The blonde looked at you, without removing that smile from her pale face. “Are you Miranda?”

“Yes, I am,” she answered dryly, turning around and indicating for you to follow her.

“Your parents were very considerate in advising you to work with me,” the strange woman commented, serving you what seemed a cup of tea.

You nodded, staring at the priestess. You weren't expecting a young woman, or at least not that young.

“Yes, and, I, I appreciate your hospitality,” you said pleasantly, tilting your head. Miranda looked at you curiously and laughed softly, sending a shiver through your body.

“Anything for my old friends…” she said in a soft voice, sitting down at a desk. You shifted a nervously, something that the woman noticed. “Is there something wrong?”

“Oh, no, no, it's just that… I, I didn't expect you to be that young,” you said sincerely. She laughed again in a sinister way, shaking her head.

“I suppose it's understandable… The last time I saw you, you were just a crying baby,” she joked. You were surprised by that statement, feeling more and more uncomfortable. Was it a dream?

“Did you know me?” you asked, surprised. As far as you knew, you had been born on the other side of the ocean. The priestess frowned, as if she knew she had said something she shouldn’t, something you didn’t know.

“Let’s leave formalities aside,” the blonde sighed, taking an old file from a shelf and placing it on the table. “The first thing is to find you a place to stay.”

“Yes, of course,” you said, nodding, looking at those old photographs of the village. One of them, an old house, guarded by a waterfall, caught your attention.

It wasn’t just the peculiarity of that place, its beauty. You had seen that house before, in your dreams. You were sure.

“Wait a moment,” you said, putting a hand on the page so she wouldn’t keep turning it. Miranda stopped, looking at you in silence while you took out your inseparable notebook.

A house with a waterfall, surrounded by forest.

A dark forest, a small clearing where there was a grave

A wooden bridge swinging over a cliff

All of those were notes from your dreams. You couldn't stop looking at that photograph. It was that house, that very house.

“Is something wrong?” Miranda asked, while you examined your notes. You looked up and shook your head, rubbing your forehead, which was already breaking out in nervous sweat.

“No... It's just that... That house,” you said, pointing at the photograph. Miranda frowned and approached it, looking at you confused.

“That house?” she asked curiously, her eyes staring into yours.

“Yeah, I've seen it before, I'm, I'm sure,” you murmured, confused, thinking that maybe you were still asleep in that taxi.

“How can that be possible, (Y/N)? It's the first time you've come here,” Miranda said, with a suspicious but interested tone.

“I know but… I, I've dreamed about that house, I'm completely sure,” you said, placing your finger on the photograph, sighing and shaking at that coincidence.

“Dreamed,” the priestess said, with apparent disinterest.

“Yes, I… Tell me, is there a wooden bridge to get there? An elevator?” you asked, without thinking very well about what you were saying. They always told you that those dreams weren't important. Your PhD could be in danger if Miranda considered you a disturbed person.

Her eyes closed slowly as she nodded, confirming your intuition.

“Tell me, (Y/N)…” she murmured, slowly getting up from the desk, not taking her gaze off yours. “Does the name Donna Beneviento sound familiar to you?”

You could barely hear it, but you tried to look for that name in your notebook, or one similar. No, it didn't ring a bell. You had never heard it before. It was a completely unknown name to you.

“No, it doesn't ring a bell,” you said, shaking your head and frowning, putting your notebook away again, trying not to get nervous.

“Mm,” the blonde murmured, sketching a brief fake smile, as if downplaying your words. “Well, I think I know where you're staying… Excuse me a moment, I have to make a call.”

You nodded, relaxing, still looking at that picture while the priestess picked up an old phone, dialing a number on it and waiting impatiently.

“Donna, dear…” the woman commented. You turned your head slightly to pay attention to that conversation. “Yes, yes… Listen to me… No, Donna, I said listen to me. I have a job for you… Oh, no, a simple one… A stranger has come at my request to do some research in the village… No, nothing like that… No, Donna, taci…” she murmured, looking at you, realizing that you were listening to her and rolling her eyes mockingly.

You looked away. Well, after all, you didn't need eyes to listen.

“The girl comes to investigate about plants, fauna, you know, those stuff…” she continued talking. “Simple, dear, she will stay with you. Yes, Donna, in your house… Oh, please, can you just speak up for yourself? That puppet of yours is giving me a headache.”

Puppet?

“Oh, much better…” Miranda sighed, relaxing her tone of voice. “No, Donna, I'm completely serious, the girl will stay with you and there is no discussion possible. Try to be nice, mm? Oh, and keep Angie out of it, at least for a while, I don't want the girl to run away, yet…”

Those words were like a switch for your nerves, making you tense. Angie, that name, Angie, you had heard it in dreams, you had written it down.

Miranda hung up the phone, bringing you out of your thoughts and approaching you again.

“Well, it seems you already have accommodation,” she said, joining her hands, with a slightly different attitude. “You will stay with Donna, one of the village Lords. Not all outsiders are so lucky, right?”

“Lord?” you asked curiously. Miranda laughed in a fake way, nodding.

“Relax, dear, I'm sure you'll get used to this place little by little. Oh, and one more thing… Donna isn't… Well, let's say she's not very well in the head so… Be careful with what you say, mm?”

“Not well in the head? Is she dangerous?” you asked, a bit scared.

“Oh, no, she’s not… Well, if you're careful, of course,” she joked disinterestedly. Your desire to leave the village increased by the moment. “She's a very peculiar woman, but I'm sure she'll be nice to you if you're nice to her.”

“Miranda… Who's Angie?” you asked again, acknowledging that, indeed, you were aware of that phone conversation.

“Mm, I suppose you'll find that out in time too,” she answered coldly, dryly, making a gesture to indicate you to get up from the chair. “Now go, I'm busy.”

“Okay, okay,” you whispered, getting up, frowning. “How do I get to that house?”

“I'm sure you'll know how to get there, (Y/N),” Miranda said, writing something on some papers, not paying attention to you.

Confused, you left that kind of laboratory, looking around for the way to that mansion, to the house that repeatedly appeared in your dreams.

“Oh, excuse me, sir,” you said, stopping a man who was pulling an old cart. “Would you be so kind as to tell me how to get to Donna Beneviento's house?”

The man opened his eyes wide, leaving the cart on the ground and shaking his head.

“Do you want to die, girl?” the villager growled, leaving you stuck in the snow. “Stupid outsiders...” he hissed before picking up the cart again, looking at you with a disgusted face.

“Okay, thanks,” you said, furious at that attitude, or rather, scared.

You walked through the village in confusion, not knowing where to go, not knowing which way to go. You decided to stop asking, since no villager seemed willing to help you.

“Oh…” you said, stopping at an old wooden door with a symbol engraved on it: a moon and a sun. Again, you reached for your notebook. You had seen it before, in your dreams, you had drawn it on one of the pages. “I, I guess it’s this way.”

Your nerves prevented you from remembering, from focusing your gaze on those trees that seemed familiar to you, on that wooden bridge that you heard creaking in the same way as in your dreams. You hadn’t been wrong, that was the way to the mansion.

As you crossed that bridge, a strange feeling invaded you, one that you hadn’t had for a long time. Two abandoned cabins were next to you, two cabins surrounded by stone angels that you approached automatically, putting a hand on them.

“You can’t get me, you can't get me...” a voice sang.

“What?” you asked confused, at the sight of a girl running through that place, a girl being chased by another one. The sensations, the voices and strange images were also part of your life, although never that intensely. “I think, I think I need a break...”

Walking a little further, you came to that clearing, one decorated with a grave that jutted out of a mound, the grave of a girl, Claudia Beneviento.

“Now she walks through the valley of death... How sinister,” you said, reading the inscription on that tombstone.

“I should have died instead of her...”

“Don't say that, you would have left me without you...”

Children's voices came back to torment you. They weren't visions, nor dreams. They were sensations, air currents that carried those voices to your mind, faceless, meaningless voices.

Finally, going up an archaic elevator, the mansion stood before you. It was the same waterfall, the same sound of running water, the same cool, damp breeze, the same smell of flowers. Everything was the same.

“Ahem,” you said, climbing the steps towards that house, meditating, making the decision to knock on the door instead of running away and never coming back. “Hello?”

The door suddenly opened before you knocked, making you step back. A woman appeared, dressed in black, with her face covered by a veil, Donna Beneviento, surely.

“Hello… I'm…” you said shyly, kindly extending your hand towards the woman, who seemed nervous, frozen, with her hands shaking.

“No… It can't be…” a hoarse voice whispered from behind that veil, taking several steps back. “You, you can't be here.”

The lady seemed very nervous, too much. Yes, you knew she wasn't mentally well, but that attitude didn't make any sense.

“Miranda told me I would stay with you for a while and…” you stammered. She shook her head profusely, breathing heavily. “Oh, hey, are you okay?”

“It's not true… This, this can't be true…” she muttered to herself, turning around and resting her hands on her head, moving on herself. “No, you're not here…”

“Well, yes, I am,” you said cautiously, getting a little closer to the lady, risking putting a hand on her shoulder, a hand she immediately pushed away with a furious growl. “You… You're Donna, aren't you?”

“What? You're asking me my name? How dare you show up at my house and…?” she stammered, pushing you away unpleasantly. “Non… Non è possibile…”

You stepped back a little, looking at the door, seriously considering turning back. But it wasn’t fear or that woman’s erratic attitude anymore, something else was pushing you to stay, a heavy feeling that fell on your shoulders.

“Oh, Italian… Okay…” you murmured, remembering Miranda’s advice: be nice. “Um.. Io… Sono… Sono…”

“Stop pretending!” she squealed, nervous, pointing at you with her finger “You know Italian perfectly.”

“What? No… Of course I don’t…” you said confused, frowning and putting your hands in a surrender position.

“Of course you do, I… I was the one who…” she hissed, sighing nervously, controlling her breathing. “You… You are…”

“(Y/N),” you said with more courage, extending your hand again towards her, who seemed to stop when she heard your name. “Mi, Miranda has spoken to you, I’m the girl who…”

“(Y/N)? Is that your name?” she asked with a calmer tone, but with her hands shaking as she approached again. “Are you sure?”

You laughed confused, running a hand over your forehead as you nodded.

“Well, quite sure,” you joked, biting your lip, watching how that madness dissipated little by little.

“How old are you?” the lady in black asked, curious, uneasy, but at the same time, more serene.

The question surprised you, but you shrugged. After all, you were her guest.

“25,” you answered in a kind tone.

The lady in mourning sighed, letting her shoulders fall, shaking her head.

“25…” she repeated, in a whisper. “I see… No, it can't be…”

“Um, I…” you said, interrupting her senseless murmurs. “I, I don't want to be a bother, really. I can, I can find another place to stay and…”

“No,” she said dryly, with a brusque, sudden tone. “Mother Miranda has ordered me to take you in, and that's what I intend to do.”

“Mother Miranda?” you asked, frowning at that strange name, that curious nickname.

“Come,” the lady said, turning and going up the stairs, where, on the wall, a portrait of a woman seemed to be watching you.

It was a beautiful woman, wearing the same dress as Lady Beneviento, holding what looked like a sinister doll. A shiver ran down your spine again.

“How cool, it's really cool!”

“My dad gave it to me, it's called...”

“Here, (Y/N),” the woman in black interrupted that kind of feeling, those voices that echoed in your head, pointing to a small room, where you would surely stay.

“Oh, okay... Do I stay here?” you asked nervously, passing by her, smelling the lavender of her perfume, one that, strangely, also seemed familiar to you.

She nodded slightly, letting you pass without taking her hidden gaze off you, you could feel it.

“Th, thank you… Donna? Lady Beneviento?” you said with exaggerated kindness. A growl came from the black veil, as if the simple act of saying her name had been terribly offensive to her.

She didn't answer. She simply left the room, closing the door with a loud slam.

“Well, it could have been worse,” you sighed, letting yourself fall on the small bed.

You were too tired to start your research and, after everything that had happened, you decided to call it a day, lying down and closing your eyes.

“You're wrong... Nobody could ever, ever like me with... This, this face...” a young woman said, again, without a face, without a clear voice, sitting next to you in a vague place.

“Nonsense, you are... You are beautiful, D…” you said, convinced of something you couldn't see.

“No, I'm not,” the teenager said, with a voice that was increasingly dark and distorted.

“I, I like you...” you said shyly, looking at your legs, dressed in a strange dress, full of patterns of colors that you had never seen before.

“Do... Do you like me?” the young woman asked, with a distant voice, just as vague.

You nodded, with the familiar burning sensation of blushing on your cheeks.

“I like you too…” that dark voice said, that blurry figure, leaning closer to you. “Even though… Even though we are friends, I… I wanted, I wanted to tell you that…”

Suddenly you opened your eyes, waking up from a dream like any other, of conversations with a faceless woman, with an unknown girl, a conversation too lucid, too concrete.

“Uff…” you sighed, sweating in bed, shaking your head and looking for your notebook, although you had nothing to write on it. “When I get home, I'll have to see a doctor…”

Tired, needing to freshen up, you left the room in search of the bathroom, peeking through the door, checking that there were no sinister ladies nearby.

The house was completely dark and, not wanting to disturb your hostess's rest, you took out your useless phone, turning on the flashlight to guide you around that place.

“Much better…” you sighed when you refreshed yourself in the sink, with that inaudible voice, with that feeling from your dream still very present in your thoughts. You turned off the tap, or well, you tried to, it seemed that the sink had no intention of obeying you.

As if you had a silent revelation, you pulled the handle, moving it gently until the water stopped coming out. It was like… Like you suddenly knew you had to do this, like you'd done it before.

You stood there, stunned, looking at yourself in the mirror.

“There's a trick, you have to pull it a bit, otherwise it won’t close… My parents say that one day they will fix it…”

Again that strange voice passed through your mind, forcing you to put your hands on your temples, which were throbbing intensely, threatening another one of your horrible migraines, migraines that you had since you were very young.

“Not now…” you said in a whisper, knowing that you hadn't brought your medications, that you didn't consider them a priority. “Shit, does this crazy woman have some ibuprofen?” you asked, walking towards the stairs, going down them slowly.

The portrait caught your attention again, that stoic beauty, that sinister puppet…

“Hello? Lady Beneviento?” you asked in the darkness, illuminating the mansion with your phone, getting no answer. “I'll have to look on my own… I'm a researcher, right?” you joked to yourself, passing through the door that seemed to lead to a dining room, one that, somehow, you found familiar.

The musty smell, the furniture, that feeling of loneliness you had already felt. You didn't have to pay attention to the obstacles, you dodged them without wanting to, knowing where they were. You didn't give it any importance, your head was already starting to hurt.

A creaking sound behind scared you, the sound of wood sinking under something, a small footstep. Nothing, everything seemed to be as usual. Everything? No. In a small corner, on top of a sofa that you thought was empty, there was something, something sinister that you recognized instantly, a doll, the same doll in the portrait.

You were born curious. Nothing could stop you from approaching it.

“What is this?” you asked, approaching the puppet, carefully picking it up and moving it in your arms. The sound of the wooden joints caused another horrible feeling of déjà vu. “A ventriloquist doll?”

You examined that doll with curiosity, moving it to look for something, something that would tell you why your heart had started beating fast.

“Why do I have the feeling that we have seen each other before?” you murmured, passing your hand over its broken face, destroyed by the arrangements that it had to have over time.

“Ha! Not at all, stupid! Get me off your filthy foreign hands, stupid, stupid!”

“Yiahhh!” you screamed, letting the puppet fall to the floor.

It couldn't be a dream, or a nightmare, or even your imagination. You had seen that doll move, you had heard it speak. You weren't crazy, you had heard it.

“Shit,” you said scared, stepping back, looking at the doll, which was now inert on the floor. “What the...?”

Fearful, you picked up your phone, pointing it again at the doll, which didn't seem to move. Relieved because you thought it had been a silly thing, you picked it up again, leaving it on the couch with a frown.

“Damn jet lag…” you lamented, passing a trembling hand over your forehead, sighing, watching that horrible doll.

But the doll was not the strangest thing of all. In a corner, on a nearby table, there was what looked like an old framed photograph, a black and white one, straight out of another era. Two girls appeared on it, one of them dark-haired, with hair as black as the night, with skin as pale as the Moon. On her face there was a scar that kept her right eye closed.

You didn't know who she was, you couldn't know, even though she looked suspiciously like the woman in the portrait, a few years younger, of course.

But that coincidence wasn't what made your body tremble again. Next to her, another girl smiled excitedly, holding a teddy bear. You had to look at her several times to make sure that, like that doll, it hadn't been some kind of hallucination due to the time change.

“No...” you sighed, picking up that photo, looking at that girl over and over again. “It can't be...”

You nervously picked up your phone, hurriedly browsing through the photo gallery until you found what you wanted, a photo of yourself when you were little, a photo of a girl identical to the one in that portrait.

“Amazing,” you said, comparing the two photos. There was a rather disturbing resemblance.

A sinister laugh distracted you from your astonishment. You searched everywhere, focused on the doll. Nothing.

Fearful and scared, you decided to go back to your room. Maybe in daylight you could clarify everything.

“Good, good morning,” you said in a timid voice, rubbing your eyes as you walked down to the dining room. The lady in black was already there, sitting at the table, quiet, as if she were a ghost, as if she wasn't even there.

Walking towards the table, you glanced at the doll, which seemed to still be in the same position. Donna's response to your kindness was a simple nod.

“Um... Can I... Can I have some coffee?” you asked timidly, pointing at an old coffee pot. “It looks great. It smells great.”

“You don't like coffee,” the lady said in a hoarse voice, with a soft tone that seemed a bit different from the day before. You frowned, sitting in front of her.

“Oh, well, no, not especially but... You know, college changed my mind,” you explained amused, pouring some liquid into a cup, not having noticed that information she provided, something she shouldn't, she couldn't know.

Donna sighed, playing with her spoon, not wanting to look at you, but at the same time, not being able to not do it.

“Mother Miranda says you’ve come to study plants,” she commented, after a tense moment of silence. You nodded, setting your cup down on the table.

“It’s for my PhD. My parents told me this place could be very interesting,” you explained in a calm voice, still keeping an eye on the doll on the couch.

“Your parents,” she said, completely ignoring your motivations.

“Yes…” you affirmed with a fake smile. “It, it seems that they knew Miranda for a long time. She worked with them in some kind of scientific corporation.”

“But you weren't born here,” she said, with a dark, intriguing voice, as if she knew the answer to her own questions. That made you remember things that you didn't like to talk about.

“No, I… I was born, I was born in… Well, I don't know exactly where I was born. I'm… I'm adopted,” you said, annoyed by that indiscretion. The lady in black nodded with disinterest.

“What happened to your biological parents?” the woman in black asked, sinking a dagger into your fragile feelings, starting to annoy you.

“I, I didn't know them, I…” you murmured with your hand shaking, with the sadness of your past starting to stir your heart. “I don't feel comfortable talking about this with a stranger.”

“Stranger…” she murmured, crossing her arms, as if she were mocking you. You couldn't know, the veil on her face hid her expressions. “You're in my house, you have to show some respect for me.”

“Respect?” you asked, arching your eyebrows. “You're the one who asks me personal things. In my country that's disrespectful.”

“Do you know what is disrespectful?” Donna asked, getting up from her chair and getting dangerously close to you. “Your existence.”

You stood there open-mouthed, not knowing how to respond to that offensive comment, closing your eyes, sighing and trying not to lose your nerves.

“Great, I like you too,” you joked, making the lady turn around abruptly, without saying anything, just breathing with difficulty.

The image of the night before, the image of that photograph you accidentally put in your backpack came back to your mind. It wasn't the best time, but, after all, you weren't doing much to stay in that house. You would have to get out of doubt.

“I'm sorry,” you apologized with a grunt. “I was rude.”

“Me too,” she said, apparently calmer, ignoring your comments.

“Okay…” you sighed in relief, slowly taking the photo frame out of your backpack, looking at it once more. “Hey, who is this girl?”

The lady froze when she saw you with the photo, snatching it from you with a strong tug of her hands.

“What are you doing with that?! This is mine!” she screamed furiously, kicking the floor and tightly clutching the photo to her chest. “It's mine!”

“I, I know, I took it by accident because…” you said nervously, trying to explain why you kept it, what you wanted to know.

“Don't touch my stuff!” Donna protested, upset, with a voice broken by rage and sudden sobs. “Don't touch her!”

“I'm, I'm sorry, but it's just that...” you said, approaching her trembling figure.

“Stupida! What have you come for?! To torture me?! Is it because I couldn't save you?!” she screamed deliriously, unhinged, totally out of her mind. You could run away, take advantage of her madness to escape but... You didn't.

“What are you talking about?” you asked, approaching slowly, trying to calm her down. “Donna, I...”

“Perché?! To lose you wasn't it enough? Haven't I suffered enough?” she stammered, sitting on the floor with her knees on her chest, burying her covered face between them. You, bent down, trying to grab her wrists.

“Please, calm down, please, I, I didn't mean to…” you said nervously, feeling sorry for that sick woman, unintentionally intoxicating yourself with that familiar lavender scent.

“Donna, Donna! Don't do that!” a third voice, which you didn't hear, approached you. “Don't pay attention to this fool. Donna, Donna, sing, sing with me…”

A soft song came out of that black veil, one that seemed to calm her under your watchful gaze. You were so nervous that you didn't notice there was someone else there.

“Fool, damn foolish outsider, you made my Donna cry!”

The voice spoke again, while the lady ran out, crying inconsolably.

“I didn't mean to make her suffer,” you said, standing up, brushing the dust off your pants. “I don't…”

You opened your eyes when you realized there was something strange, someone, something that shouldn't be there. You slowly turned your head, staring in astonishment at that doll, a doll that was no longer lying inert on the couch, but standing next to you.

“No…” you sighed, slowly moving away, your body paralyzed by fear. “Oh, no…”

“What are you looking at, you fool? Have you seen a ghost?” the doll said again, confirming that you hadn't imagined it. It was alive.

“How, how can you…? Oh, no, no, you can't be alive,” you stammered, suppressing the impulse to take out your phone and record that phenomenon.

“You're the one who can't be alive! Stupid outsider!” the doll shrieked, in an unpleasant, shrill tone, walking away from your petrified body. “If you mess with my Donna again, you'll pay dearly! Keep that in mind, Angie is always watching!”

“Angie?” you repeated, blinking in confusion. You had dreamed of that name.

Maybe some fresh air would do you good, and besides, you had to start your investigations.

During the day you walked around the village, looking for those places you saw in your dreams, leaving the plants aside, having a new objective: to know why that place was so familiar to you, what was happening in that cursed village.

The night came too soon and, without wanting it, you were already back in that mansion, next to that living doll and its disturbed owner. The atmosphere was still tense, but something had changed. In front of you, a plate of food that she had prepared for you was waiting.

“It's not poisoned, eat,” Donna whispered, with a voice broken by the crying of hours before, but with a slightly different serenity. You, distrustful but hungry, obeyed.

“Mmm, it has a lot of oregano,” you commented with a false smile. “I always liked tomatoes with a lot of oregano, how did you know?”

The lady shrugged, as if she didn't feel like talking.

It was true that she looked dangerous, that her problems could cause you to have them, but, above all, you had something in mind, you wanted to know why the girl in the photo looked so much like you, why, for so many years, you had dreamed of that place, that house.

“Well…”you stammered, breaking the silence again. “I, I'd like to know something else about… Angie,” you said, afraid of her reaction, looking at the doll, which seemed to be entertaining itself with some balls of wool.

“Angie,” Donna repeated.

“Yes, I… Well, I've never seen a living doll,” you said amused, hiding your fear.

“I suppose you haven’t,” she said, coldly. “If you don't annoy her, she won't do anything to you.”

“Oh, okay…” you said, disappointed with the answer, continuing with that silent dinner, at least until your desire to know, to understand, came back to your head. “So… What do you do here?”

“I make dolls,” the lady answered with a disinterested whisper, leaving you speechless again.

“Wooow, there are a lot of dolls…”

“My father makes them, one day I will be like him”

“Will you make one for me?”

“As many as you want…”

Inopportune whispers echoed in your head, making you drink water, so those feelings would not worsen the tension of that dinner, the first of many others.

“Wow, that's... interesting,” you murmured, feigning interest. Donna didn't answer. She just stared at you through her veil. “I don't know many people who make porcelain dolls.”

That caught the lady's attention, tensing her body and breathing nervously again.

“I didn't say they were porcelain dolls,” she said in a cold, distrustful tone.

“Oh...” you said, regretting your boldness. Porcelain dolls, another entry in your notebook, a recurring vision in your dreams.

Everything was related, there was no doubt. The only thing you didn't understand was what Lady Beneviento had to do with it.

“You knew they are porcelain dolls,” she said again, taking you out of your thoughts, out of the memories of your dreams, memories full of dolls, of laughter, of faceless women.

“No, well, not really,” you said apologetically, pretending that your success had really been a coincidence. “I just said it randomly.”

“That's not true,” Donna whispered, getting up from the chair, approaching you with the same dangerous, slow and threatening step. “You knew it, how?”

“I, I don't know,”-you stammered, blushing at your lie.

“No matter how much you deny it, I know it's you,” she whispered, bringing a hand to your cheek, one that made you stir, but not move away.

“I, I don't know what you're talking about,” you said nervously, turning your face away so those soft caresses would stop.

There was no more conversation. There was nothing else to clarify your confused thoughts.

The days passed slowly, your dreams became more and more unbearable, more intense, the voices that sounded in your subconscious revealed things you didn't know, words that you didn't understand. That figure, that blurred face of that woman refused to be revealed.

You had so many new notes in your notebook that there were no blank spaces left. But all that information didn't make sense. It was confusing, confusing names, distorted voices, imaginary scenarios inside or outside that mansion.

Your doctorate was the main loser. It was as if everything you had gone to do in that village blurred with time. That was the place of your dreams, of your visions, of all the sensations that remained latent in your feelings.

Donna didn't seem to want to overwhelm you with strange phrases, with stupid accusations like the first few days. Her attitude relaxed, she seemed more comfortable with you, although always absent, shy, distant and at the same time eager to get closer.

She was the only thing you didn't understand, but somehow, that voice, the softness that her hands seemed to have, that lavender scent... All of that started to confuse your feelings, to make you start to feel attracted to her, hopelessly.

“Hi, I’m back...” you sighed, carrying two shopping bags.

Of course, living in that huge mansion could be an order from Miranda, but that didn't mean you could live without giving anything in return. Shopping was a task that the lady in black assigned to you, thus freeing herself from having to face her anxieties, the discomfort she felt with people around.

“(Y/N),” she whispered, getting up from the sofa, stoic as always, nervous as never. Yes, her nerves seemed to get worse in your presence, but the softness of her character didn't show it. It was a contradiction.

Donna Beneviento was herself a contradiction, a very... attractive contradiction.

“I think I have everything…” you sighed, leaving the bags on a table. “But I'm afraid that fat guy doesn't make bills.”

She laughed shyly, approaching you and looking at the contents, puzzled by a bottle of wine.

“What is this?” she asked, taking the wine out of the bag, showing it to you. You shrugged.

“Oh, it's Mastrala wine,” you said passively.

Donna laughed again, shaking her head.

“I know what it is but… Why did you buy it?” she asked in a lower tone, getting a little closer to you, giving the bottle back to you.

“Oh, I hope you don't mind. The Duke had that bottle there, and… I don't know, I don't really like wine but I thought I could do something with it,” you said, placing that bottle on the table, one bottled that, since you saw it, caught your attention.

“Something?” the lady in black asked, her voice shaking and her hands playing erratically with each other.

“Yes, well, I was thinking of making something sweet, maybe…”

“Zabaione,” you said, but so did she. You two spoke at the same time, you said the same thing. It was a strange, tense moment, one that made you blink several times.

“Y-yes… Right, right…” you sighed confused, your head claiming your attention again. “Um… Well, I, I guess you like them…”

“Of course she likes them!” Angie interrupted, comically pushing Donna closer to you. “She makes them well, very well, don’t you Donna?”

“I, I guess so,” the lady in black murmured, kicking the doll, who laughed amusedly. You still hadn't gotten used to the puppet, but deep down, you liked it.

“Great, I'll make them right away,” you said, wanting to leave the room before the shadows of the unknown lurked again.

“Why don't you make them together? It could be funny,” the doll suggested, with a strange laugh

“Angie, no…” Donna said head down, with an embarrassed tone for the doll's increasingly less subtle impudence. It was as if Angie knew that something had started to grow between you two.

“Eh, it's true, why not?” you said, rubbing your hands. “But I warn you that I'm quite an expert. Since I was little I made them perfect.”

“Yes, that... That would be... Good,” the lady stammered, guiding you towards the kitchen.

As you entered that dark room, more memories, sensations that you lived in your dreams began to haunt you.

“Stop adding sugar or it will be too sweet”

“Just a little more…”

“(Y/N),” the hoarse voice of the lady in black blurred the voices in your head. “The sugar is in…”

You looked down, automatically opening the door of a cupboard, taking out the sugar packet, without really knowing how. How could you know it was there?

“Here,” you said in a small voice, a bit confused, more than usual. “Um… I'm going, I'm going to get the yolks.”

Cooking with the lady in black seemed like a good candidate to be your favorite hobby. Donna laughed while you talked about anything, about college experiences, about your travels… Everything seemed like a gift to her, like a sweet melody that calmed her spirit. Her soft laugh, her shy words and that sweet accent, also calmed yours.

“Perfect, I told you so,” you said, admiring the result with satisfaction. “I can't wait to try them.”

“You were always so impatient,” ​​Donna whispered, wiping her hands with a rag, leaving you again with a loose wire, speaking to you in the past tense, as if she already knew you, as if she did one day.

“It's one of my flaws, yes,” you murmured in a less euphoric tone, helping her to clean up the kitchen. “What do we do with the egg whites?”

“The egg whites? Oh, well, maybe I could make a…”

“Meringue, I love meringue,” you interrupted, with an innocent smile. She nodded, sighing sadly. “My mother used to make it, but I constantly annoyed her, always…”

“You always stuck your finger on it,” Donna finished your sentence again. Once again, you couldn't deny the evidence. She knew too much.

“Y-Yes…” you affirmed, nodding slowly, with a cold sweat running down your forehead.

“You could never stay still, Olga,” she said, making you frown, blinking several times, thinking you had heard wrong.

“Olga?” you asked confused. You didn't remember that name in your notebook, or in your dreams. More problems, more unanswered questions.

Donna looked at you, but then pulled away, shaking her head.

“I'm sorry, I’ve made a mistake,” she said in a very low tone, one that was regretful and broken. “Take the sweets upstairs, I'll make some tea.”

“Okay, but…” you said, seeing how the lady seemed to tremble again, how one of her crises was about to ruin a wonderful afternoon. “Should I help you?”

“No,” she growled, clenching her fists tightly. “Go away.”

“Are you okay?” you asked, putting a hand on her back, one that she rejected, moving violently.

“Vai via!” she shrieked, making you, resigned, obey, taking the tray with the sweets and leaving the lady alone, beginning to sob.

You waited a while for her to go up again, with the annoying Angie dancing around you.

“Hey, Angie, who's Olga?” you asked, picking up the puppet from the floor, causing it to kick violently.

“Let me go, you rude girl!” she shrieked. “Have you never looked yourself in a mirror?”

You obeyed with a frown, knowing that you would never get an answer from that irreverent puppet. Luckily, Donna soon appeared.

The taste of those sweets along with the tea transported you to an unknown place, recognizing the mixture of the darkness of the house, the humidity, the steaming tea, those delicious sweets...

“Even though you're my friend, I... I, I want, I want to tell you that...”

“Come on, talk”

“I know it won't come true if I say it, but, but... My birthday wish has been... To give you, to give you a kiss...”

That image appeared in your head, the image of that strange dream, of that blurry woman who slowly approached you, placing her blurry lips on yours. You even brought your hand to your mouth, believing you had felt that kiss, you had noticed the softness of those unknown lips.

“(Y/N),” Donna, who had remained silent until that moment, spoke to you. The sensation of that kiss disappeared with her words. “I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you in the kitchen.”

“No, well, it's okay,” you said, trying one of those sweets, much less pleasant than that imaginary kiss. “We all make mistakes.”

“I haven't made a mistake,” she said in a more serious tone, with her cup of tea shaking in her hands. “Do you remember the photo you stole from me?”

“Oh, I didn't steal anything from you, I took it by accident and…” you said, getting scared by that cold attitude, one that she hadn't had with you for a long time.

“Taci, I'm talking,” she protested, nervous.

You nodded, eating slowly, bringing your cup to your lips so as not to say more nonsense.

“The, the girl was… She was…” she said, her voice breaking. “Olga, she was my best friend, the only one, in fact…” she explained, causing your heart to beat faster for no reason. “Let me ask you a question, (Y/N).”

“Mm,” you murmured, interested in that conversation, afraid to say why that girl, Olga, seemed so curious to you.

“I know you don't like to talk about it but… What is your first memory?” she asked in a mysterious, studious voice. You gulped down the tea, embarrassed by the answer.

“You're not the first one to ask me, the, the kids at school laughed at me when I answered,” you said amused, but nervous.

“I'm not going to laugh,” Donna said, with a serious tone, with one that said under that black veil, there was no smile. “Answer, per favore.”

“T, the truth is… It's not exactly a memory... It was more like a dream,” you said, lowering the tone of your voice, immersing yourself in your thoughts, in the dream that was the first, the first of hundreds of them.

She nodded for you to continue.

“Well, I dreamed that I was surrounded… I don't know, by some kind of black branches… I know it was cold, I remember the cold and…  I, I don't know, suddenly my parents appeared and… I, I woke up… Or so I think.”

“Mm,” she murmured, calmly placing her cup of tea down. “Do you usually have those kinds of dreams?”

“Not exactly,” you said, with a serious tone, frowning, ready to reveal for the first time, your concerns, feeling strangely safe next to Donna, comfortable, even… Happy. “This, this will seem crazy to you but… I… I have been here before. I mean, before I arrived… I couldn’t explain why but I… I already knew this place, this house…”

“Did you know me?” she asked suddenly, not surprised by what you were saying, something that confused you even more.

“No, I'm sorry... I've never, ever dreamed about you,” you said, sure of your words.

“I've been dreaming about you for over 30 years,” she whispered in a sad tone. “Since I lost you.”

“30 years?” you asked confused, with a burning sensation in your chest, with all those unknown voices wandering through your mind, overwhelming you, making you tremble. “But, but that's impossible, I... I'm 25 and...”

The lady in black didn't answer, she simply moved her hand to the veil that covered her face, moving it away, letting it fall on the table. She was a beautiful woman, really beautiful, the woman in the portrait, the girl in the photograph. Dark hair, pale skin, one eye, the other hidden by a horrible scar.

You, absorbed by her beauty, by discovering the appearance of that woman for whom you were beginning to have feelings, stood still, studying her features.

“You are… You are beautiful,” you stammered, with a different feeling in your chest, with a deep, sonorous beat, a different one, not nervous, but excited. The voices fell silent, the thoughts of your dreams stopped appearing. In your mind, there was only Donna.

The lady in black, letting a tear slide down her cheek, shook her head.

“You still don't remember me,” she said, lowering her gaze, desperate not to make you understand what she wanted to say, that missing piece in the puzzle of your mind.

“No, I'm, I'm sorry… I don't know why I would have to remember you… I, I don't know what I'm doing here, I…” you said, overwhelmed by the situation, nervous, with an imminent anxiety attack. “Hey, Donna, I, I had a good time with you but, but, I think, I think it's better that I go before I lose my mind.”

“Don't go,” Donna whispered, getting up from the chair at the same time as you. “Don't go, please.”

“I, I don't know what's going on, why, why do I feel like I should be here and at the same time I shouldn't. I don't know why... I, I can't stand it anymore,” you said, shaking your head, with a crazy look, walking towards the entrance. A strong grip on your wrist prevented you from doing so.

“Even at the risk of losing you once again, I can't let you go without first... Without first fulfilling my wish again,” she sobbed, approaching you. You shook your head, crying too, too nervous.

“Your birthday wish,” you said without thinking, remembering that recurring dream, that kiss that a few moments ago you thought you felt on your lips. You went pale, with your eyes wide open, paralyzed.

The lady in black nodded, running her hand over your cheek, getting closer, closing her one eye before closing the distance between you, before kissing you slowly, with soft lips.

A shock went through your body. A tremor nullified the mobility of your muscles while your brain ran through all the images of your life, all your dreams, your dèjá vu. There were no longer blurred figures, incomplete sentences. The truth was revealed in your mind.

“Blow out the candles, Donna”

“Olga, do you think I'm beautiful?”

“I like you, Donna”

“I want us to be friends forever…”

“I have something to tell you”

“I liked kissing you, tell me you'll come back tomorrow”

“I'll come back tomorrow…”

The woman without a face, that blurred figure, was no longer one. Black hair, a scar, a melodic accent, a soft voice, a dazzling smile, the smell of lavender…

Donna, it was her, she was the mysterious woman, that woman of your dreams, that little girl who played with you, that young woman who kissed you that rainy afternoon, that afternoon after which, you couldn't remember, or dream anything.

Endless experiences, memories, clouded your thoughts while her lips kissed you, while that feeling of having done that before invaded you, telling you that it was true, that you were madly in love with her, with your best friend, that you kissed her, that she kissed you, that that afternoon you came home and everything went black.

Family, friends, a strange cult, the figure of Mother Miranda... Your whole life passed through your thoughts. But it wasn't yours, it couldn't be yours.

“Oh, Christine, look at that...”

“My God, it's a baby...”

“Where did it come from? Poor girl...”

“Look at that, it's the mold...”

“God, what does this mean?”

“I, I don't know, but, we can't leave her here...”

The voices of your adoptive parents were the last thing you heard before opening your eyes, before pulling away from that warm kiss. As if drugged, as if you were very far from that place, you brought your hands to the brunette's face, looking at it again and again, with the salty taste of your tears still on your lips. Donna, it was Donna, it was that girl you loved, the one you loved once, in another life.

“Donna… It's you…” you sighed, confused but sure of what you saw, of what you felt. That attraction for the lady in black disappeared under a sea of ​​love, of feelings that had remained locked away for too long. “My God, Donna, I, I remember you.”

“Do you remember me?” she asked confused, letting herself be caressed by your trembling hands, getting closer, studying your lost gaze.

“I, I don't know why but… I… I…” you said nervously, smiling involuntarily, drawing her towards you to kiss her again. “I, I, I loved you, I loved you even without knowing you, I knew I loved you…”

“(Y/N)…” she sighed, shaking her head. “I could never tell you… You, you left before I could tell you how, how in love I was with you.”

“I… I died, right?” you asked, unable to stop caressing her, unable to stop smelling that lavender scent, her scent, the scent of the unknown love of your life.

“Yes, you… You, you fell off a cliff… And… I… I was left so alone…” she said, kissing you desperately.

Everything fit, even your irrational hatred of heights.

“I, I don't know how to understand this… I, I’m (Y/N). I’m, I'm not Olga…” you said nervously again, grabbing her sweaty hands, losing yourself in the softness of her skin. “I will never, never be.”

“So…” she whispered, moving away from your touch, sobbing heartbreakingly. “Even knowing, knowing who you really are… You, you will leave.”

“I don't know who I am, or who I was… I just, I just know that… That I love you. It’s the only thing I'm sure of right now.”

“Who loves me?” Donna asked abruptly, with her lips pressed together, with a fury shining in her eye.

“I love you,” you whispered, lowering your head, not wanting to think that you had been reincarnated, that you were never (Y/N), that you were a projection of a girl who died, who ceased to exist, and then came back.

“Who are you, (Y/N)?” she asked again, coming closer timidly, taking your hands, playing with them, hoping to hear an answer that wasn't a rejection.

“I, I guess if… If I want to know… I'll have to, I'll have to stay with you,” you whispered softly, pulling on her waist, kissing her again, wanting to feel those soft lips on yours again, and forever.

“Will you stay with me?” she asked, pulling away, crying just like you, confused, just like you, but in love... Just like you. “You, you don't know me. (Y/N) doesn't know me.”

“Of course I know you,” you said smiling. “You've been living in my dreams for a long time.”

[sanemisstalker]

SANEMI and GIYU, but they're into you and still kind of gay for eachother? Polycule Headcanons. Kinda NSF_W.

(rip to the girl at the ortho that had to watch me write these) I don't really care for giyu x sanemi until they're like, fighting over a third party. Idk they give classic shoujo love rivals to me. I'm like, actually so delusional for this threeway, the idea eats me alive everyday. Anyways-

-Sanemi fucking hates Giyu, and Giyu hates Giyu, so atleast they can bond on that. You, however, don't really hate either of them. If anything, you're just... vaguely amused by their individual antics. Vaguely.

-more apparent is the annoyance, not hatred, very needed distinction, and the attraction. Both of the men are very annoying in their own special ways, and very attractive in equally individual ways.

-Sanemi's low-boiling attitude, but also eerie sense of confidence gave him enough unspoken Charisma to win over most who could get past the first couple of hurdles. He's disastrously goregous, and the scars only add to not only his general mystique, but also his crippling beauty. They're like trophies he's tucked away.

-Giyu is the kind of man to deny being called pretty, but his face isn't subjective. Despite his lack of general social skill, moments spent with Giyu where he's soaking in every piece of information you give him, those begging eyes and lips parted in thought. Most would call him concentrated, you'd argue he's understanding.

-Sanemi is attracted to Giyu's off putting personality rather directly. Though not the picture of social awareness himself, Sanemi's attraction to Giyu started as a pity of sorts. Watching Shinobu rail him for breathing was comedic, but kind of heart fluttering for Sanemi. There was something about Giyu that read as lost. And Sanemi found himself growing slightly protective. He'd never say that, though.

-Giyu didn't know if he was a masochist or not, but there was something about Sanemi's occasional outbursts that both annoyed and enthralled him. Even as Sanemi sought his guts on the ground, Giyu found himself admiring the man's starch emotional drive a little too queerly. Those loud moments and mumbles were all the same. A man unashamed to speak whatever came to his mind.

-Sanemi also finds Giyu to be incredibly pretty after a kiss. Giyu's got this starry, empty eyed look on his face after every kiss Sanemi gives him. Completely liquid in Sanemi's hands, but entirely defiant about it.

-And Giyu loves that feeling. More than anything, really. Well, maybe he loved the feeling of your eyes landing on the two of them in one of their occasional spats... more.

-neither of them were stupid. Not to eachothers tossed looks or yours.

-Sanemi was the first to approach you. He was gruff and defiant, despite coming onto you of his own accord.... well, he didn't really come onto you, but when it's Sanemi, those 'stay away from me for your own good's are indistinguishable from puppy dog eyes and pleading cries.

-Sanemi admits he was stupid to believe this wouldn't cause problems. Suddenly, you were all over him. And he really enjoyed it, even if it struck fear into his bones.

-Giyu was sure this was simply another thing he'd failed at. You nor Sanemi owes him anything, but seeing you both... interact. God, he'd rather you all just fuck infront of him. How unlucky could he be that both objects of his desire turn to eachother. It was what he got for being selfish. This was god returning his stupidity.

-but then you made your move on him, and Giyu didn't remember entirely how he ended up sandwiched between you and Sanemi, hands in places that made him nervous... but he wasn't going to bite a feeding hand.

NSFW

-Sanemi's sex drive is notably larger than Giyu's, but he's much less likely to initiate. Having the both of them willing and in the mood isn't rare, but it is something you have to work for. So most times, you all are having individual sex.

-Sanemi is more likely to sit out and watch. It's impressive, really. His self control. He almost looks lulled by the act. Comfortable, but hard. It's like a practice in denying temptation.

-You and Giyu love to give head. Sanemi is often left with cum dripping down his thighs and a blushing cock that drips with spit while you and Giyu makeout above his nearly unconscious body.

-On really desperate weeks, Sanemi will cum upwards of thrice a day.

-None of you have strict sexual dispositions, which leads to some interesting situations.

-Sometimes Sanemi is fingering both you and Giyu at the same time. Sometimes Giyu is burying his cock deep inside of you while Sanemi is next to you, cucked and degraded. Sometimes you will the men to perform particularly embarassing tasks for each other just to see their faces get red.

-Sanemi once instructed Giyu on how to fuck you correctly, moving Giyu's hips for him, rubbing your clit so Giyu could 'focus'. You and Giyu both came crying because Giyu wasn't allowed to stop until he got it just right, resulting in both of you overstimulated and brain dead by the endof the night. Sanemi praised your performances thoroughly.

-The day Giyu wrestled Sanemi to the ground was particularly arousing. Sanemi had a shocking pliablity you all hadn't seen before. He submitted so willingly to Giyu that it was almost tear inducing. Giyu couldn't help but fuck him into the ground for wearing such a submissive face while you held his head against your own groin, Sanemi making quick and enthusiastic work against your sex.

-you once convinced both of them to serve you as topless maids. You can't even recall how you got Sanemi to do it, but God be damned if you weren't delighted when they knlet down by your legs while you sat, eagerly awaiting your next command.

[bibibbon]

I made a huge mistake in going to the MHA subreddit. The braindead takes on 427 have me convinced I'm stuck in a parallel universe where we're reading a completely different story:

"It's great seeing Deku play therapist with the LOV, but all it seems to have done is make things worse!" A) Izuku shouldn't be having to play therapist to begin with, considering he's a 16 year old kid. B) most of the LOV don't see anything they did as wrong, so idk what the fuck Izuku can do about that. Also, WHY AREN'T PEOPLE HELPING IZUKU WITH HIS OWN GODDAMN FEELINGS?!

Apparently Bakugou killed Kurogiri, and there's absolutely ZERO reaction to it both in and out of universe. So of fucking course Izuku is a murderer, but not their precious Bakugou 🥱.

"I feel like Hori's really underrated as a writer!" Horikoshi doesn't know Show Don't Tell, how to actually develop characters, and how to craft actual stakes in the narrative from a hole in the ground. Also, MHA is one of the most popular mangas worldwide, so you're not even using underrated right.

"I feel like Horikoshi sees our discussions and then implements them in the story!" This I can kind of agree with, considering how much y'all hate Izuku and worship Bakugou. But on the other hand, I really doubt Horikoshi thinks the MHA subreddit is as important as you think it is.

"Bakugou's totally going to ask Izuku to start their own hero agency together at the end!" Jesus fucking Christ, just say you hate Izuku. How would that be a great ending for him? He not only has to see the source of his low self esteem and borderline suicidal feelings achieving the dream he'll now never have, but you want them to WORK together?!

@nutzgunray-lvt 👋

Well a lot of the time looking into Reddit is always a mistake unless you're asking a very niche question and you get an answer from 9 years ago or something.

I feel like a lot of people whether that be in universe or in fandom forget that izuku is a 16 year old child soldier. Izuku is more than a decade younger than a lot of the villains in the leauge. He is a child who has been exploited by the system and abused. We have seen in 425 izuku try and talk to someone but simply get brushed aside and while I don't blame shoto or ochako for doing that as they probably didn't mean it and are traumatised themselves it kinda of shows how much this has effected izuku. Also this doesn't help BECAUSE HORI GAVE US NO FLIPPING INTROPSECTION ON IZUKU'S BIT AGAIN!! Also Iam not sure if it's just me but Izuku's eye bags are heavily prominent in this chapter especially when he is talking to spinner.

The fandom especially the lov stans side of it love babayifying the actions of the leauge and hyper fixating on the humane soft side they may have while completely ignoring the horrible actions they commited. I talk about this better in one of @palesweetscherryblossom asks

I still can't believe that bk may of killed kurogiri. I don't even know when that happend and I checked the wiki but it says that kurogiris status is unconfirmed so I will be waiting until the last chapter to fully acknowledge if kurogiri is dead or not. However this brings up the point that the fandoms is being quite hypocritical if they're calling izuku a murder but not bakugo. They both killed people but for some reason it's izuku thats put into public light and bashing instead of all the other characters that have killed in the series including villains.

Yeah sometimes it feels like hori is looking at discussions of his series and implementing ideas but I think that goes more for his Japanese fans than us to be honest because after all they're his target demographic. I remember when I first joined Tumblr one of my earliest posts talked about how horikoshi's writing decisions were heavily influenced by his fans which may or may not be true.

At this point IAM convinced that izuku isn't getting a proper happy ending. Every time I think it can't get worse it does. Just by your comment of them starting an agency together haunts me just like the possibility that bk may become the number one hero

[lotus-ashi]

Amorraweek2025. Day 5: Forgiveness

Okay, this is the weirdest interaction I've ever put them in and it doesn't stick at all to the concept of the prompt (tbh, I don't believe in forgiveness anyway). I hope this make up for the Afterlife prompt too. :) @amorraweek2025

.

Certainly, it was quite unexpected to encounter the Avatar in the Spirit World, all of places. She was too young. It couldn’t be her lifespan ended up being so short.

That would be ironic, wouldn’t it?

But it was real. When her gaze landed on him, her eyes told him she wasn’t very happy to be there, either. Her still youthful features inspired in him the sensation that time never passed since they last saw each other on the day his movement crumbled to his feet. Because of her, that’s it.  However, her hair at chin-length was the biggest change he noticed in her persona, in addition to her new attire.

When it became apparent she intended to approach him, he crossed his arms and glared at her. Fortunately, she got the hint and stopped a few meters from him. For a second he wondered at which point in her life she acquired that glint of grief in her eyes, without losing her inner fire at the same time.

It was unnerving, although he once promised to destroy her, a long time ago, in a different lifetime.

“What brought you here? Don’t tell me that even in the afterlife you pretend to go after me or my brother.”

Laced with residual bitterness and irony, his voice resounded through the landscape full of giant, bright green leaves and other equally colorful types of vegetation. If asked, he’d say this was not how envisioned life after death.  

The Avatar merely shook her head and plopped herself on the grass, leaning her face onto her hand, in a pose of obvious boredom. She looked so relaxed to be in front of an old foe and to be honest, seeing her like this got under his nerves for some reason.

“I didn’t come here to argue. It just happened that I died and appeared not so far away from here. Quite a coincidence, don’t you think…Noatak? Because that was your real name, right?”

He absently nodded, without straying his gaze from her. Life (or death?) had an awful sense of humor. Just that day it occurred to Tarrlok to go for a walk in the surrounding area. How odd it was his brother hadn’t encountered her before he did, but who knows, maybe he already had this conversation with her.

“I don’t get why would you willingly come to talk to me. We were enemies. You hate me-“

“Actually, I don’t hate you.” She cut him off. “I mean, you did a lot of bad things, but as much as it pains me to say it out loud, you had a point.”

The red spreading across her cheeks did not make her any less determined. It was evident she didn’t feel comfortable in his presence. Although he could tell it was not fear nor spite that made her shrink a little into herself, rather it was the awkwardness of interacting with someone you never got along with.

Perhaps if he were wearing his old mask, he could intimidate her at least a little bit. Before he could come up with a dry remark, she kept going.

“Of course, it was not until a few years passed that I really could understand you. Both of you were hurting, and your actions were driven by trauma.”

“Should I say I’ve been forgiven by the Avatar? I feel so flattered-”

She gave him a bad look.

 “I just want to make peace with my past since I couldn’t do it in life. It’s not like I’m expecting apologies from you or something along that line…” She ran her hand over her face, sighing deeply. “To be honest, I could never buy the story that you died in that accident. It seemed so… impossible at the time.”

“What about you? How did you end up here?”

It was evident she wasn’t just going to leave him alone, so he saw no harm in bringing up the subject. As much as the Avatar was in front of him, he couldn’t wrap his mind around the fact she was actually dead.

But, why? What or who killed her? She couldn’t be older than thirty if he remembered correctly, it was hard to keep track of time in this place.

Then her discomfort grew to the point she got up in one jump, ready to take flight.

“I’m not ready to talk about it.” Her expression looked so disappointed. “I didn’t know what I was expecting when I approached you, but I just want you to know I no longer remember you with fear or hatred.”

That was the part in which he understood what was going on in that head of hers.

“You wanted closure.” He breathed out, the aloofness in his voice devoid of any mockery this time. Her first reaction was to widen her eyes and redirect her gaze to the nearest tree. It sickened him to the core, but the thought that she was a sight to behold fleetly crossed his mind. She opened her mouth to rebuke, but he continued anyway. “You have so many regrets that you think facing one of them will help you to lighten the burden. Let me warn you, it won’t.”

And that was the part in which she broke. The tears gathered around her eyes, but she managed not to let them spill over her cheeks.

“You must hate me more than I thought.” She bitterly chuckled, turning around to finally walk away from him as he wanted her to do since their interaction started. But for some reason he found himself dissatisfied with the idea.

It didn’t feel quite right to let her go in such a state.

“You need to forgive yourself before you try anything of the sort with me or my brother. I know very well that feeling. You’re grieving.”

Where did all these things come from?  

Maybe it was because he saw himself in her tired visage. He could tell the woman before him was the shell of her old self. And, again, that didn’t suit him quite right.

“Maybe you’re right.” She uttered, without turning around. “But I can’t shake this feeling that I failed everyone…”

“In the end, it doesn’t matter what you or I did in the past. We’re both dead.” It would be a blatant lie to say he didn’t resent her anymore, but it was senseless to keep calling themselves enemies, he realized. They could no longer do anything for the sake of their different causes.

He no longer was Amon, and she was no longer the Avatar here. They were just Noatak and Korra, trying to cope.

“I- I gotta go. Can I “visit” you at another time?” She looked sideways at him, an almost hopeful glint in her eyes.

And adding one more to the list of things that did not make sense in this entire situation, giving her a curtly nod.

[nights-nonsensical-ramblings]

So for the @year-of-the-echidna 'communication' prompt i'm putting forward a snippet from an upcoming chapter of friendship persists

But some context is required first. This fic was started back when frontiers was getting its first trailers and many of us were theorizing that it was gonna be an amnesia plot. So other than the basic pieces of 'there are weird ancient robot things, there used to be a civilisation here, cyber space is a thing and the general look of the first island' (maybr the others will stay the same, but that'll depend on the flow of the story) most of frontiers has nothing to do with this story, the pieces are completely remixed. (Sage doesn't even have anything to do with eggman in this version, the titans have a very different origin planned, (which is low key a self indulgent excuse to make expys of the botw champions.) i wont say yet cuz its become a major plot point, but the titans don't have 'pilots' and their origin warns doom for Sonic, Knuckles, Amy and Tails (i so wanna say cuz im excited to ramble)

But that aside the last bit of context required is that knuckles' knowledge of 'english' was erased along with the rest of his memories and so is dealing with a language barrier.

Im using a cypher for Knuckles' dialoge where i split the word in half and swap those halves, (if the word has an odd number of letters the middle letter stays where it is) ill put translations at the bottom.

so with out further ado, a snippet of dealing with a language barrier.

Pink lost her smirk and her face grew soft. "You got to remember he can't understand what we're saying, just how we're saying it. I think he took how you spoke about his claws and tongue as an insult."

Blue sighed. "It wasn't meant to be an insult, it just feels weirdly right to tease and poke at him, and at first it seemed like he felt the same. I don't wanna actually upset the guy, just annoy him a bit."

"Well you're certainly good at doing that."

"yeah, and he's good at doing it to me." Both Pink and Yellow snickered. At the start of the digging Blue and Red had made a game of 'accidently' tossing dirt on each other and it had made quite the delay on the burrow getting started.

The shield remained up, and they could hear dirt being flung about and no sign of it stopping.

"well he's gotta let us in when he's done."

"still feels unfair to make him do it by himself." Yellow glanced back to Blue and ended up noticing he'd taken his gloves off at some point and his hands were covered in dirt.

"What did you say that got him so upset?"

"Well I said he's got some pretty cool claws, but apparently I didn't sound like that and he poked his tongue out at me, and it was oddly long and he seemed to take me staring at it that well and kicked me out." Yellows twin tails flicked, there was something beneath the fog of lost memory about being physically singled out that resonated with him, but the harder he searched the more he felt resistance. He could bring forth the memory of Red getting huffy when being called strange though.

Yellow stepped forward and lightly knocked on the shield, there was a pause in the sound of dirt being tossed about and then the echidna's head popped out of the hole. Red's hands came into view and yellow was able to see that unlike the rest of them, who had bendy fingers tipped with a claw, his entire finger was practically a claw. When Red noticed his staring he growled and narrowed his eyes.

"Wait! before you get mad at me look." Yellow turned and pointed to his twin tails then to each of his friends singular ones. "I've got something unique to."

Red's face became thoughtful and he climbed out of the burrow and took a closer look at Yellow's tails. He then reached up to yellow's head and gave it a stroke. "Red?"

"Reuyo rentediff ot" Red used one of his claws to lift one of his quills slightly and then pointed to the quills on Pink and Blue.

"I think he understood my message!" Yellow turned back to Red when the echidna gently picked up his hand and had a closer look.

"Uryo si os llasm." Yellow’s hand was minuscule compared to Red’s. The echidna would be completely capable of closing his fist around both of Yellow’s. The fox could feel the strength held in those muscles just by the way his fingers twitched and yet Red’s grip was never too tight and the sharp claws brushed along his fur but Red didn’t leave a single scratch.

Blue moved in closer and Red immediately gave him a suspicious look, the hedgehog responded by pointing at Red's claws and giving a genuine grin. "They're cool Red, no need to get all huffy." Red continued to study Blue's expression and eventually let out a frustrated sigh.

Red looked away muttered to himself. "Stju shwi I ewkn atwh uoy rewe ingsay." He then shook his head and gestured for them to follow. "Meco no, mi ostalm nedo"

The echidna lead them into them into the burrow and once his eyes adjusted to the darkness Yellow could identify the deep gashes in the dirt came from Red and the shallower ones came from Blues faster scrabbling. Even with their bickering and head bumping the two had dug out a quite comfortable looking burrow and it was large enough for them to sit inside without bumping their heads. They'd been fine just sleeping on the ground the previous night, but Yellow would like to get some sort of bedding if there was time before the storm hit.

A loud crash sounded from outside the burrow and Yellow tensed. His breath began to quicken and his heart pulsed in his chest. The storm was coming, A thunder storm. Yellow eyes blurred and soon all he could see was the coloured blurs that had given each of them their names. Another crash made his ears lay flat against his head and he began to tremble.

Until a large hand came to rest on his shoulder. 

"Yellow! Reoyu, fesa wndo rehe." Purple eyes came into focus. The face that held them was serious and stern but yet still comforting. "Inghnot llwi teg uoy thwi ym eldshi up." There was pride in Red's voice as he pointed to the entrance where the shield has once again been put up.

Now Red's shield did bring feelings of safety, much like Red himself. Everything about the guy practically screamed 'protector' but there was still something that concerned the fox. "You've only had this power a short time you don't know if you'll be okay keeping it up for a while."

The echidna caught Yellow's concerned tone and gave him a comforting pat. But of course, Red gave no answer to Yellow's worries.

"You'll be alright bud, even if Red's shield goes down we'll keep you safe." Blue smiled and Yellow smiled back. The hedgehog tapped next to him and Yellow walked over and sat where he indicated, the hedgehog was good at keeping Yellow distracted from the storm and he barely noticed Pink and Red carrying supplies in and eventually plopping down with slightly damp fur and in Pink's case, joining the conversation.

Pink didn't miss the way Red's shoulders dropped when Yellow walked away from him to get comfort from Blue. The echidna's face screwed up and his throat tightened. Pink had no clue what he had said, but his tone sounded like he was trying so hard to be comforting. But his words meant nothing to them, and theirs meant nothing to Red.

She really didn't envy poor Red. 

"Hey Red, help me get some stuff from the plane." Pink pointed to the entrance and Red lowered his shield but remained where he was. Pink sighed and pulled him out with her. "No, no. I want you to come out here with me"

Most of the supplies would stay perfectly dry in the plane, but she'd spotted some blankets that would make it more comfortable if the night grew colder. 

Red stopped at the part of the plane that had the word 'Sonic' on it and brushed his claws along it. His gaze was hard and focused but no recognition shone in his eyes.

"You can't read that, can you?" Red looked over his shoulder and the frustration that twisted his face was like a jab. "If it counts for anything, that word is 'Sonic'. You'll at least be able to read one word." She pointed towards the plane to emphasise that 'Sonic' wasn't just another part of the sentence.

Red tilted his head and took a step back. "Sonic ro Sonic?" with the first Sonic he pointed to the word 'sonic' and spoke sharply, then he gestured broadly to the entire plane and drew out the word sonic a bit more. Pink stepped closer and tapped the word itself then ran her finger along each letter as she once again said 

"Sonic"

Red nodded and had a slight smile and repeated the word again, but this time with a proud certainty to it. 

"There we go we'll be able to understand each other in no time." 

Translations

Reuyo rentediff ot = youre different to rsuyo si os llasm = Yours is so small Stju shwi I ewkn atwh uoy rewe ingsay = Just wish I knew what you were saying Meco no, mi ostalm nedo = come on im almost done Reoyu, fesa wndo rehe = youre safe down here Inghnot llwi teg uoy thwi ym eldshi pu = nothing will get you with my shield up Sonic ro Sonic = Sonic or Sonic

[vxperorchist]

Hello, I hope you're well and having a good day. I saw you're taking requests so I was wondering if I could ask for kazuha x fem reader angst? Like reader asks for a break up because she never felt good enough for him and the gossip of other people telling her she's too ugly and pathetic to be with someone like kazuha brings her to the realization that she's holding him back from being with a beautiful and perfect woman like lumine that he deserves to have so she wants to set him free?

Sooo this is a stupid request but ty if u feel up to writing it.

p.s I love your writing.

Ahhh thank you so much for requesting! This request is not stupid at all, and I love the way you're thinking! Plus, I'm also a big Kazuha lover so who am I to say no to writing for him.... I originally wanted to make this a happy ending of some sort but then i was like no i want to keep it sad, so I kinda made it both. It can be interpreted by the reader 😉. (Forgive me if this is not very good, I don't write angst very often, but I am always so down to attempt it)

Unfit for you. (Kazuha x Fem! Reader)

Warnings: Being insulted, no serious warnings.

Genre: Angst

From the beginning, you realized what you were getting yourself in to, you just didn't realize it would be this messy.

Kazuha was known in various places, who couldn't know him? He was everywhere at once, whether it was physically or tapping in through the wind, a bit of him remained everywhere, and he took a little bit of everywhere with him.

When the two of you met, you clicked immediately. Wherever he went, you followed. Wherever you went, he followed closely behind as well.

With that travelling, you learned his and shared his experiences. He had his fair share of getting hit on, but can you really blame them? He'd brush it off, ignoring or politely turning girls down, but you couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealolousy.

It's not that he made you feel insecure in a relationship, it's the fact that you felt like you were holding him back. You had voiced your concerns plenty of times, and he reassured you each time that you were more than enough for him.

With each lingering glare every young girl gave him, you started to believe him less and less. He was strong, talented, and free. He was everything everyone wanted, including you.

He couldn't help but be kind and gentle to everyone who came along, it was something you adored about him so much. Lumine had been present in both of your lives for a time, you would occasionally see her around, but she never stayed for long. She was so similar to Kazuha.

You felt a twist in your stomach as she greeted Kazuha as you stood to the side. "Kazuha!" Paimon greeted enthusiastically, hovering circles around her travelling companion. "Hello there, you two, it's been a while since we've last met." He greeted in return, giving a friendly smile to the two of them.

You zoned out of their conversation; it was for your own good and sanity. Lumine left after a few hours of staying in the area. You didn't have a clue what she was there for, and you didn't really have the curiosity to know.

Kazuha came back to you after the day, laying in your shared bed with you. This was the best part of each day, coming back to him and letting all your problems drift away.

He held you in his arms, but the problems didn't drift away with sleep this time. This time, it lingered.

You awoke, and he was gone once more. You decided to help along the ship today, as later today was departure day. You greeted Beidou, helping pack things up and shoving them into the corresponding compartments.

"Y/n, you been hearin the rumors recently?" You turned your head to the captain. "Huh?" You didn't indulge in the drama of the nation you were staying in; it was always temporary. You didn't care nearly enough to worry about who said what, or who fought who in the nation. You wouldn't remember these people in week.

That was until you would always remember them. "Apparently Kazuha's popular amongst the cities here, everybody's talking about him. I even heard he was single through one rumor, so I wanted to check in on you."

You frowned. You thanked Beidou for telling her and reassured her that the two of you were indeed still together and happy.

He was happy at least. You felt yourself shattering with every rumor. You heard more and more about it as you were packing up. Another member of the crew told you about stuff she heard in the city. She told you that she overheard a group of girls talking about "Kazuha's girl" and how she was unattractive amongst the culture there.

It was starting to hit you now, every new nation came with new rumors, new discussion, more hate towards you. You who did nothing to the people there.

What could you do differently? Your clothes? Your hair? How you presented yourself?

"Kazuha, talk to me please." You paused him as he was walking off the ship, into the next nation you had touched port in.

"What seems to be the issue?" He watched you with the same gentle eyes he always looked at you with.

"We've barely talked. People think we aren't dating anymore."

"Really? Thats quite an assumption people make about us without knowing anything." He dismissed the idea entirely.

You gave up on the idea of trying to bring up the rumors to him, and how much it was affecting you. You knew he loved you, but he wouldn't address this idea. It was simply his mindset, an unshakeable mindset.

He thought the rumors meant nothing, however he wasn't the target of the gossip. Even then, he thought the rumors shouldn't effect you, because he loved you.

After months of putting up with new rumors and new insults thrown at you, you decided to bring it up to Kazuha one last time. You wouldn't beg or ask him any longer to change, because he shouldn't have to change for you. You loved him for him, and wanted him to prosper with someone who wouldn't need him to change. Someone who was more similar to him, someone like Lumine.

You had went into the city this time with him. He didn't ask you to, but you felt this was the best time to let him down.

You stopped at a bridge to overlook some water, you told him each rumor and insult that had been thrown at you as of the last few months. He did nothing but listen, something he was so good at.

You told him you wanted to let him go. He was free in all other aspects, except romantically. Romantically, he was tied down to you.

"Kazuha, I won't keep you. You are someone who prides himself on freedom, and I'm the only one holding you back from that. You deserve more, you deserve better than me. Someone who travels like you, someone who seeks the thrill and wind like you do. I can't offer those things, and I won't make you change so I can understand you."

You let your fingertips fall from his hand, offering him a last gentle smile.

"If I didn't want anything tying me down, I would have cut the rope that ties me a long time ago. Every wanderer needs a place they can come back to no matter where they are, and you were that place for me."

The wind picked up between you two and he brushed the side of your arm with his tainted hands.