#I want to stop making the same mistakes again and again I want to stop being lazy and selfish I want to stop messing up everything I do

[mx-pastelwriting]

hi how are you hope you are well

I wondered how the slashers would react if you hugged them from behind (^-^)/

Oooooo I like this one its so cute to imagine!

I would definitely want to make a full post later down the line with this prompt! As I'm not taking request for full posts at the moment. But heres a bit of what I think!

Slashers x GN! Reader

Summary: Prompt up top^ Small Headcanon!

I'm not open for requests, but little asks on thoughts on something is okay~

Thomas Hewitt: If it were the first time, he would jump a bit, but when realizing it was you, he would melt in your arms. He is such a gentle giant when it comes to love. Learning from it, he would do the same when he caught you with a turned-back.

Michael Myers (78 Michael): Would not understand what you were doing or trying to do. When asking what he was doing by the tone of your voice, he would understand it was another show of affection. Still working on getting used to the feeling of love and how it works, he slowly looks forward to you coming up behind to hug his waist. Little by little, considering trying it himself.

Jason Voorhees: Ticklish, for sure. Hearing him laugh a little as he squirms at your arms wrapped around his waist. Leaving you to tease him a little about it. When doing it again, you learn to do it quickly, making it less ticklish. Jason would only attempt it when having come home and cleaned up, not wanting to get mug and sweat onto you.

Brahms Heelshire: Would love it. Really love it if you get what I'm saying. Putting aside his touch-starved state, he would beg for you to do it again after that. Rarely does it to you, wanting to be the one receiving the hug. Tall man is needy.

Bo Sinclair: Spooked by it. Makes him blush hard, worse when you kiss his neck or back, making his face burn a hot red. Though rarely lets you see him in that state, Bo loves it from the first time you do it. Does it to you as well, attacking your neck and shoulder while chuckling.

Vincent Sinclair: If it wasn't for Lester's romance movies or Bo's special movies, he would have no idea what you were doing. Understanding mostly from Lester's movies to be a loving act, he smiles under his mask, though continues to do what he working on. Moving less to not spook you into letting go.

Lester Sinclair: Getting all blushy and mushy about it. Stopping what he was doing just to melt in your arms. Asking if you could just stay like that for a little longer. It would become a daily thing for the both of you taking any chance to embrace each other.

Hannibal Lector: Wouldn't physically react, greeting you as it happens and smiling, loving every one of your affectionate acts. Continuing to work on whatever he was doing, allowing you to hang onto him, whether in silence or talking about each other's day.

Will Graham: Would chuckle at you hugging him from behind, feeling as his muscles relaxed against your touch. Preferred to let the air stay quiet, with your arms warped around his waist, feeling the fabric of his flannel shirt smelling of aftershave and dog.

I didn't proofread this one too much, but I did put it through a grammar checker, so if there are any mistakes, blame Grammarly.

Hope you liked this little headcanon!

Fanfiction is protected under copyright law when plagiarism is involved. If you plagiarize my work, either a piece or whole in any language, I will take illegal action. Inspiration or the same idea does NOT apply to this, only word-for-word plagiarism in any language.

♥ mx-pastelwriting does not consent to their fanfiction being copied, copied & credited, translated, used in videos and/or audios, screenshotted, used in AI, or reposted on any other platform without permission.

♥ mx-pastelwriting does give consent to "reblog," sharing links to direct work, and being in recommend lists.

[naomi-nana]

✎ᝰ. in the name of you .

in a world where everyone forgot their own religion, it's not wrong for luka to look at your ethereal self and immediately mistake you for a divine being, no?

featuring : luka

cw : female reader, implied stalking(for just a little), luka is obsessed with reader, luka isn't obsessed with hyuna in here for the sake of the story lol🙇‍♀️

a/n : i made a till one, and now i'll make a luka one! i was trying to make it seems as if luka is obsessed with reader, but i was having a hard time showing it, and ended up making it seems like luka had become a better person after meeting reader lmfaoo😭🙏

from the moment humans were taken away forcefully by those disgusting aliens—they all had forgotten about their creators. the one who gave them life, the one who gave them the will to continue living. each day felt like a stab to the heart, it feels as if someone had taken your lungs out of your body, before putting it back inside again.

it feels empty, like a void.

while all the kids run around anakt garden happily, although not genuinely, all luka could do was lean on one of the trees, while holding his knees close to his chest. what can he do? what does people expect him to do? he is a weak child, a child born with diseases, a child unable to live without support from others, including the tree he is currently leaning on. without anything to lean on, to hold on to, what was he supposed to do, weak and dependent as he was?

nothing. he could only weep himself to sleep every day, and it changes nothing. he has heard from the other kids that there is a powerful divine being that could help you in times of distress, how it's called god, how you're supposed to believe in it for it to help you, and he did. luka believed in god for a day, but nothing had changed. his everyday life had remained the same.

like waking up early, even though he doesn't know what time it is because of all the fake painted skies the aliens put in the garden, go eat breakfast with the other kids, with no one else sitting besides—"hey, is this seat occupied?" in the midst of the suffocating silence, a cheerful, almost unreal voice had reached his ears. he had first thought that it was just his imagination, his desperate feelings of wanting to be accompanied by someone. but it wasn't, as the voice echoed in his ears once again.

"uh, hello...? did i catch you on a bad day? i'm so sorry, i'll find another seat then." after what felt like a minute, he finally looked up at the person talking to him, only to notice that they're gone. he clenched his fist in regret. he should've looked up earlier, he should've answered whoever that was, but he didn't. such a shame, he thought to himself.

after half an hour, luka finished his breakfast and was getting ready to leave, before being stopped by someone whose voice was so familiar to him, it almost feels as if he is dreaming. "hey, um... i'm really, really sorry for bothering you earlier. as an apology, i got some bread for you!" that cheerful voice had struck something inside him, his eyes grew wide slightly, and his hand trembles at the sight of you. if he were to believe in the divine, he would immediately get down on his knees and pray for you, an angel.

your soft gaze, your skin that looks almost as delicate and fragile as a glass, and your small fingers offering him the bread you got for him. it took him almost a minute to react, and all that came out of his mouth is just a small gasp, so small that even you can't hear it. "don't tell anyone about this though, but i stole it from someone's unfinished breakfast! so take it, please?" you shoved the bread to his face, which made him raise his eyebrows. but he took it anyway.

he examines the bread carefully, to which you took great offense. "i won't poison you, so there's no need to look at it so intensely!" you pout at him. if you squint your eyes really hard, you can notice the faintest hint of smile on his face, and probably the first time he has ever smile so genuinely.

his everyday routine had consisted of the same, basic thing. but, now that you talked to him, it changed his life forever. it changed his views of the world, of everyone. some kids may have believed in the divine from the moment they were born, but luka just believed in the divine the moment she graced himself with her kindness.

from then on, whenever luka woke up and entered the garden, the first thing—or person he looks for, is you. whenever he went to the cafeteria, the first person he approached is you, and when luka went to his first performance on stage, the first person he looks for in the audience is you, holding a cream-colored lightstick.

whenever luka goes anywhere, the first person he looks for, thought of, and wishes to see first... is you.

his god, his universe.

and if he happens to notice some... imbecile, or other people trying to approach you, he won't hesitate to show them that no one can approach his angel without consequences. no one other than him.

naomi-nana. do NOT repost, do not use,(with or without permission), do not reccommend or talk about my works outside of tumblr.

[itsjunear]

Comfort

Note: Hello, loves! I guess I disappeared again 😭 I'm sorry, there's been a lot going on these past few weeks, and I wasn’t feeling very well. This is my way of making it up to you ❤❤ I'm still working on the second part of "Shadows and Whispers", but I got sidetracked, and something totally out of my element came out of it. I’m really sorry if this turns out to be a mess, I’ve never written anything obscene and explicit before, so feel free to tell me if it’s terrible! Remember, English isn’t my first language, so if there are any mistakes, don’t hesitate to let me know! Please take care of yourself! Love you all! 💙💙💙

P.S. I didn’t tag anyone because I wasn’t really sure if you’d want it, especially after disappearing for almost a month. Sorry 😭😭

Words: +1k

Warnings: Obscenity

Summary: Reader goes to comfort Azriel after he's returned from a mission. However, things take a turn, and somehow she finds herself in a sinful situation with the shadowsinger.

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I still didn't understand how the hell I had ended up in this situation.

Or rather, how I had ended up in this position.

My intentions in arriving at Az were completely genuine and innocent. I knew him well enough to know that he was absolutely frustrated with how the mission had ended, just as I also knew that he would try to hide his feelings because that was his way of dealing with everything.

When I arrived at the River House, I found him sitting at the foot of the bed with his elbows resting on his knees and his hands tangled in his dark hair. He was so out of it that he didn't even lift his head when he heard me enter and he didn't bother to pick up his wings either, a strong indicator of his mood.

Seeing him like this made my heart ache, and the urge to comfort him took hold of me, so I didn't even think when my feet carried me directly in front of him. Somehow, I sneaked my hand in and gently placed it on his cheek, forcing him to look up. His shadows were scattered and restless.

I wasn't ready for what I found in his hazel eyes: loneliness and resignation. He didn't even try to hide it from me, and that was what scared me the most. I was prepared to face the big wall he put up when something emotional was involved, but I wasn't ready for the honest vulnerability that hit me like a blow to the cheek.

"Aziel..." I let out with a shaky sigh.

He shook his head and for a second my body went rigid as I felt his arms wrap tightly around my waist and rest his head on my stomach. I reacted and instinctively placed one hand on his back, in the middle of his wings, and the other in his hair, scraping gently with my nails. In response, a shiver ran through him, and I stopped my movements abruptly.

"No" It was the first thing I heard him say since I had entered "Please... Just... continue."

I nodded even though I knew he wasn't looking at me and resumed my movements. He relaxed against me and settled his head higher, right between my breasts. HIS shadows calmed down then, and limited themselves to passing through us occasionally.

"Az..." I tried again.

“Y/n…” he interrupted me, pressing himself tighter against my body. "I need this right now. Just... tell me to stop if you don't want it."

I didn't stop him, and he decided to explore a little more, brushing his nose against the edge of my breasts, making me shiver. One of his hands that was on my waist went down to my ass and squeezed hard, but at the same time slowly, as if he wanted to melt into my skin.

A gasp of surprise escaped my lips when I felt him place soft kisses on my breasts, near the nipples, covered only by an old shirt that was too big for me. He put it in his mouth, wetting the shirt, making my hands fly straight to his hair, tangling and pulling gently. A grunt of approval came from Azriel, and all logical thought vanished from my mind, leaving me completely blank and a prisoner of sensations.

His hands became bolder reaching for one of my perfectly fitting breasts and he squeezed, making me gasp.

"You're so beautiful" he said breathily and pulled my shirt up over my head.

My breasts were exposed, and directly at the height of his lips, so he did not hesitate to put them in his mouth. I just arched my back, delighted in the way he made me feel even though I knew this was wrong. Az was very vulnerable right now and it was a miracle that he was showing me this side of him.

That thought hit me like a bucket of cold water and brought my feet back to earth.

"Az," I called after a moment. "We can't..." I gasped as I felt him pull my nipple between his lips. "Listen, I don't think this is a good idea..."

"I need to feel you close. I need to know that you are here with me," he pleaded in a tone of voice I had never heard before, "Making you feel good will make me feel good."

"But I don't want you to think that I'm taking advantage..."

"I need this. I need you" he interrupted me.

That took my breath away and the way he looked like I was his only lifeline made me give in, so I finally nodded.

The shadowsinger rewarded me by leaving a wet kiss on my neck before separating for a moment to unbutton his leathers and reveal all his glory. I didn't hold back and gently touched his skin, trying to convey everything I felt through those caresses, trying to tell him that I was there for him and from the way he tensed where my fingers passed, I assumed he could understand it. I even brushed the edge of one of his wings and he shivered violently, not hiding the low moan that escaped.

His hands moved down to unbutton my shorts without leaving soft kisses combined with licks on my neck. I dug my nails carefully into his back, avoiding the membranes, and he let out a hoarse moan that went deep into my bones. He slowly slid my pants down caressing my legs in the process and then helped me out of them once they hit the carpet beneath my feet.

That's how I was left in nothing but panties in front of Azriel, who was looking at me like I was the only damn person in his life that he had ever wanted. I didn't feel self-conscious under his scrutiny, on the contrary, I had the feeling that he was memorizing me.

“Y/n” he ​​called with rapid breathing “You are beautiful, fucking beautiful.”

His words also had more meaning, I realized. It was the second time he had told me this tonight and somehow, he managed to warm my heart.

The shadowsinger manipulated my body to his liking, so he gave me one last open-mouthed kiss right over my heart before turning me over, leaving me on my back now. I felt him fill my spine with kisses and hook his fingers on my panties, slowly lowering them until he left a kiss on my lower back that made me shudder.

Completely naked, she took me by the waist to place me on his lap. I could feel his hardness beneath me, and he hissed when I ground my hips together.

I was sitting in the middle of his legs, until he hooked one of his hands and put one of my legs over his, so that I was wedged over it, although I still rested my back on his chest.

Then he hugged me, imprisoning me in his arms and hiding his face in my neck. His hands then went down, directly to my center, and he began to touch me with gentle movements, slow caresses on the clitoris that made me gasp. A moan escaped from the back of my throat as I felt his fingers slide into my folds and curve them deliciously.

"That's it honey, let me hear you" he whispered in my ear.

He repeated the movement, and my body went crazy when he added another finger. Everything was slow and felt completely different, it felt more intimate, fuller of feeling. His fingers worked magic inside me while he caressed my clit with his thumb. It was too much, and I figured Az could sense it because he sped up his movements.

Another moan escaped my lips as one movement pushed me over the edge and the orgasm rippled through me making me tremble, sweeping through everything. Azriel did not stop his hands, prolonging the sensation and supporting all my weight, since I had practically collapsed on top of him.

After a few seconds, he did something that left me gasping, partly from the orgasm he just gave me, and partly from the sensual sight. He took his fingers out of me, not caring in the least about the mess, and sucked on them, looking into my eyes before resting his forehead against mine.

"Az" I whispered in between a gasp.

He lunged at my lips and there are no words to describe the way he kissed me. It was messy, a combination of tongue and teeth, but it felt perfect, like once in a lifetime, everything fit together.

I walked away after a moment, to catch my breath, and he grimaced as if it physically hurt him not to be around, to which I responded by standing up and climbing up behind him, only this time who hid his face in his neck. It was me, absolutely enjoying the skin-to-skin contact and the way he held me close to his bare chest and mine.

Az didn't care about the mess I was probably making on his leathers still wearing my fluids. He didn't seem interested in any of that.

"Thank you for staying," he said after a moment, wrapping his wings around us.

"You have nothing to thank me for," I responded, taking his face in my hands. "How are you feeling?"

"Good, now that you're here." He responded and for emphasis, one of his shadows caressed my arm with a cold touch, making me smile.

"Do you want to talk about it?" I asked as I ran a finger over the membrane of his wing again.

A shudder consumed him along with a gasp and he rested his head on my shoulder.

"Not yet"

I nodded and wrapped my arms around his neck. Trying to give him comfort beyond words and show him that she was here with him. Not anywhere else.

[turtle-steverogers]

i rlly like ur posts abt how steves rough time with his dad as a little kid affects him later in life. i was wondering do u think the other avengers notice? and if they do what do you think they think/do about it?

also tbh i rlly like ur posts in general lol. i hope you have a good day!

I think the other Avengers notice after some time, considering most of them have similar experiences. I imagine it's sort of an unspoken thing, but it's almost... more notable on Steve, because he's so goddamn young and because when he wakes up from the ice, he's so goddamn stretched thin, that the reserves he usually has to shove all those old habits into a box are low. He's jumpy, the others notice. A raised voice-- especially male-- makes him flinch before he smooths out his face. Making requests is hard for him, and mistakes-- even small ones-- are met with scrambling apologies and frantic attempts to fix the problems.

No one says anything, because they know what it's like, and they don't want him to feel cornered. But there's a hard mission, and he and Natasha are alone in a motel room, and Steve is so clearly low. Kids had been involved. And Natasha had seen the way Steve had shut down to see the marks and bruises on the little boy and girl they'd gotten out of a trafficking situation, and she understood. Albeit for different reasons, but at the core, the pain was the same. They'd both just been kids when they were hurt. Young and lost and wondering what they'd done to deserve the grown ups around them squashing them down and making them feel no better than the dirt.

He doesn't say anything, so she doesn't either. But that night, she can't sleep, and neither can he, and when she hears him shift, roll over. Curl onto his side as the silent tears start, she can't stand it anymore.

Her bed creaks as she slides out, ignoring the rough crunch of the carpet as she pads over to Steve's bed and climbs in behind him.

She crawls onto the bed behind him, stretching out. "Can I hold you?" she whispers. Steve shrugs. He doesn't care. He doesn't understand why she would want to be the big spoon to his hulking frame, but if she wants to, he won't stop her. He's too tired to. He feels her wiggle close and slides an arm over his chest, hugging him flush against her. Her palm rests over his heart and she rubs, soothing.

It eases some of the weight. Some of the ache. He breathes, shaky. She kisses the back of his neck. It's quiet for a long time.

Natasha's voice is soft and private when she speaks. "It hurts, what they did to us, doesn't it?"

Steve freezes, listening. Natasha holds on. He doesn't move her.

"Why would anyone treat children that way? Hurt them that way?"

Steve clenched his jaw, resignation in his gut. "How could you tell?"

Natasha sighs. "I put it together, more or less."

Steve nods and doesn't say anything. It's quiet here, outside the city. The world dark and lacking that telltale bustle. Steve hates it.

"It's alright that you're hurting still," Natasha continues, and Steve wants to beg her to stop, but he's too curious, too desperate for someone to see him that he doesn't. "It's okay that you're still scared. You're safe, darling... you don't have to believe that yet."

He starts to tremble.

"Shh, baby, hey," she soothes and her voice is easy to stomach. Easy to understand. "Breathe for me."

He sucks in a deep breath.

"Did they hit you in the Red Room?" he asks.

"Sometimes," Natasha says. "It was calculated, though. Discipline."

Discipline. Steve doesn't think his father meant for his hits to be discipline. They were just... correction. To get him to shut up. Or maybe so he could get his anger out.

"Breathe," Natasha reminds again. Steve takes another measured breath. "You don't have to tell me anything. But you can. I won't get it all, but I might understand."

Steve considers that. "How old were you? When it started?"

"I don't remember," Natasha said. "Very young. Four, maybe? You?"

"I don't remember either," Steve whispers, and he's furious. Suddenly, he wants to set the world on fire. For the little girl who just wanted a chance to see the sunshine, and for the little boy who just wanted to play. "Maybe the same."

They fall back into silence. Steve can feel his teeth chattering. Natasha starts humming a song, simple and soothing under her breath. He knows he doesn't have to say anything else; she understands. He lets his eyes fall shut again.

[malk1ns]

november 8 2024 @ capitals, 4-2 win

the next part in my soulbond series (1, 2, 3, 4). hope you like it!

Sid can feel this season rapidly slipping out of his grasp.

He’d had a lot of talks with Kyle over the summer. Kyle was up-front about his plans for the year, honest and forthright about what he realistically thought the team could do. Their final conversation before Sid signed his extension ended with Kyle telling him, the Penguins are your team, Sidney, but if the direction we’re headed isn’t how you want to finish your career, I understand. It’s up to you.

He’d signed. He’s staying. It wasn’t ever really a choice.

Sid thinks there’s still a part of him that hoped, though. He’s never going to give up on winning, never going to stop chasing the ultimate goal, and the part of his brain that asks his barber to shave down the hair on his temples until the gray is less visible is the same part that clung to the idea of contending.

And, well, anything’s possible. They’re not even a quarter of the way through the season. But.

Worse than the team, though, Sid can feel Geno slipping away.

Geno’s been avoiding him since the Islanders game. After the hellish Carolina blowout, Sid tried to pin him down for a conversation, to actually talk about this bond and how they can fix it, but Geno slipped away, insulated from Sid on the plane by the poker game group and practically running up to his hotel room when they landed in DC.

For a moment Sid even considered going to morning skate to corner him, but Geno’s gameday routine is even more rigid than Sid’s own, and Sid can’t bring himself to mess up Geno’s rhythm, not on a day like today.

Games against Washington always have a little extra importance. Sid takes every game seriously, of course he does, but he won’t lie and say that the Capitals don’t stand out on the calendar more than the rest. Especially now, with records in sight and careers coming to an end.

It’s why he loses his temper and screams on the bench when they blow another lead again in the second.

Losing to an opponent because they’re just better than you is one thing. But what Sid can’t abide, won’t tolerate, is a lack of effort, sloppy play and ignoring the details and fundamentals, making careless mistakes that lead to chances against.

His line is playing well. He can’t say the same for anyone else.

At intermission, Sully stays out of the room at first, and Sid lets loose all his frustrations with the year so far, his anger at the losing streaks and his own struggles, and shouts the team down until they’re properly cowed. And when the coaching staff comes in again, Sid marches up to Sully and tells him to take Geno off the top line.

He says it loud enough for most of the guys to hear, but he doesn’t look over to see what face Geno’s making.

Geno’s been on his wing because of a bond he clearly doesn’t want, and Sid’s been taking advantage of it. If Sid can’t score with the wingers he has, he deserves any failures coming his way.

He spares a thought for his parents, somewhere up in the stands because Sid’s getting close to yet another milestone. Maybe he should tell them to go home.

It was the right decision. Partway through the third, Geno reads a rebound like only he can, breaks the tie, and the Penguins don’t look back.

Winning in Washington always means a lot, but even watching Alex smash his stick and yell at himself on the Capitals’ bench as time ticks down doesn’t make Sid feel better. He keeps his head down when he strips out of his gear, spends entirely too much time on a cooldown bike, and is the last one on the bus, barely making it before Sully would have started yelling about him being late.

At least they have the weekend off.

Sid can feel Geno watching him on the plane. Normally after a road trip like this, Geno would commandeer the window seat next to him, sprawl out and get his legs in Sid’s space, jostling him until Sid relaxed enough to laugh and poke back, the two of them picking at each other until they settled enough to get some sleep.

Nobody takes the empty seat next to Sid this time. He tugs his hat over his eyes and purposely thinks about nothing. At least it’s a short flight.

When they’re deboarding in Pittsburgh, for the first time ever Sid reaches out with the bond on purpose.

The recoil he gets from Geno is enough to send him practically running to his car, racing through the quiet streets to Sewickley faster than he’d normally drive. He feels sick.

Geno might hate him. It was Sid’s lagging production that pulled him into this bond, after all, chained Geno to his side for a week until Sid stopped being selfish and forced them apart again. Geno had been sick, Geno hadn’t been producing, and the second Sid let him free he scored, so… Sid can’t say with confidence that he wouldn’t be furious if their roles were reversed.

He’s so wrapped up in his own self-recriminations that he doesn’t realize Geno’s coming over until he hears a key in his lock, and suddenly Geno’s presence in the back of his mind is inescapable.

“Sid?” Geno calls, and Sid, sitting at his island in his dark kitchen, drops his head into his hands and waits.

When Geno finds him, he swears long and low, a tumble of Russian that Sid would have gotten the gist of even without the bond pulsing concern and guilt his way.

He flinches when Geno flicks the lights on, blinking up at where Geno’s suddenly looming over him.

“We need to talk,” Geno says, and Sid stares at him helplessly, because what is there to say?

Geno shakes his head and sits on the stool next to him, pressing their knees together. Sid feels a wash of relief at the contact so powerful he has to blink away dizzy darkness from the corners of his vision. Geno frowns, the downturned corners of his mouth digging lines into his face. In the harsh overhead lights, he looks haggard, skin pale under the remnants of his summer tan and the bags under his eyes dark and pronounced.

“My fault,” Geno says, holding up one big hand when Sid opens his mouth. “It’s me who starts this, like, after Sochi. I’m think probably I know it’s there and we’re ignore for so long it’s say, no more, has to happen. We have to fix or we’re sick for season.”

Sid shakes his head. “It’s me who made it…whatever,” he says, gesturing. He doesn’t know the right words for what’s happening to them, never read up on bonds because he never expected to have one. “Like, I needed you and made it…this.”

“You needed me,” Geno repeats, and his voice is toneless, but Sid feels a soft bloom of…something in the bond, something that makes him want to reach out and touch.

“I always need you,” Sid mutters, staring at his hands instead of Geno’s face. Almost twenty years together on this team and it shouldn’t feel so strange to admit, of course they need each other, but something about saying it now, out loud…the way he’s feeling, the way he can tell Geno is feeling, makes the words feel fraught.

There’s a long silence, and when Sid looks up, Geno’s biting his lip. “Don’t know what to do,” he admits, and Sid shouldn’t feel relief there, but at least he’s not alone in feeling totally lost.

There’s no real literature for this, not really. They haven’t even been able to have more than a few quick consults with bond specialists since they’ve been on the road.

Sid startles a little when Geno reaches out and covers Sid’s hands with one of his own. His palm is a little damp, but he’s warm, and his hand is big enough to cover both of Sid’s where they’re twisting in his lap.

It’s late. They both should get sleep, even with two full days off from games.

They sit in Sid’s kitchen in silence as night deepens outside.

[leggerefiore]

so I have an angst request that I’m wondering if you could do. I love the fankids but I’m wondering if for some reason the fankids end up in another world. Where they don’t exist. Their respective parents exist but due to some nonsense (Cyrus and his refusal to stop, Grimsley cheating, Nanu pushing reader away) their parents never got together and now they are stuck in such an unfamiliar place without the comfort of their parents. They stay with reader and the pokemen realize that in another world they are happy and have a loving family. So lots of angst from all sides until one day the real parents come to rescue their children and take them away. Leaving the people in this weird world confused and in despair. Hope that makes sense! Idk why I am in such a mood lol

cw: angst, some (not) parental arguing in cyrus's part, cheating in grimsley's, fankids amuck

characters: Grimsley, Cyrus, Nanu

i wrote this for no one to read lmao. changed the request a bit sorryyyy

interesting

♠️Grimsley❤️

♤ Nero held tightly onto Morrigan as they looked around at their surroundings. It was still Alola, same as ever. A place he originally had been upset about moving to, yet now it was a comfort to see. The Ultra Wormhole had been a surprise, both had not been expected such a thing to just pull them in. Nanu had warned them – Telling them stories of fallers without memories ending up in unknown places. They had not had their memories scrambled, at least. Well, he had not. Morrigan had fallen unconscious. It seemed that it likely had just looped them back around. He bravely supported his twin on his shoulder and headed towards the nearest pokemon centre.

♡ Yet, as he headed to the one near the Tapu Village, he passed a familiar man. A man who was just about to walk past them when he felt his annoyance spike. How could he ignore his son and daughter like that!? It was frustrating enough that his father never seemed to learn from his mistakes. His glare seemed to make the gambler come to a stop. “… May I help you?” he asked, “Are you playing the hero to a helpless damsel with the hopes of winning big in the end?” Nero felt like gagging. That was his sister.

◇ “… You're not funny, dad,” Nero grumbled, “Help me with Morrigan. She's been unconscious for a minute, and I'm seriously worried.” He went to move his sister to the older man, but Grimsley took a step back. Icy blue eyes observed him for too closely before switching to Morrigan. He cocked up a brow and brought a hand to his chin. “… Dad,” Nero urged, “Seriously. Help. This is your daughter. Don't you care about her?” This once more caught the gambler off guard. There was much pondering.

♧ “Can you tell your parent I don't appreciate being informed of such a monumental thing in this way?” was Grimsley's reply, “Do they want child support or something? I'm completely broke these days. They played their hot hand too late.” Nero felt frustrated. Was he mocking them? This truly was not the time. He felt Morrigan begin to stir. Her head lifted as she looked around and grasped her head. Then, her gaze landed on Grimsley.

♤ “Dad!” she smiled and moved to hug the gambler, “Nero and I got pulled into one of the Ultra Wormholes!” Grimsley awkwardly dodged her affection. She tilted her head, unsure if this was her dad messing with her. “… Well, I guess it was mostly my fault,” she admitted, “The thrill of whether we would end up in some strange alien world was too much to resist.” His expression was strange at her words. She shrunk back. He almost looked like he was regarding her as one might an insect.

♡ “… I don't know what lies you have been fed,” he let out a breath, “But, I have little interest in being a dad. I doubt you're my only children out there. Just because I had some on and off again relationship with your parent doesn't mean I'm interested in you.” He shook his head. Morrigan took a step back, confused. It was the first time in her like in which her father had ever spoken so harshly to him. Nero stepped forward and stomped a foot at him, already sick of his shit. Whatever game he was playing at, he was taking too far. Being cruel to Morrigan for seemingly no reason and insulting their other parent was too much. Grimsley actually looked a bit intimidated. “… They should have told you this. I made that clear before we broke up.”

◇ Both stood shocked. Broken… up? Neither could recall their parents being unhappy with another despite the circumstance that had happened to them. In fact, if anything, their other parent had been happy Grimsley had more time to lavish on them. Both looked at one another in horror at the thought. This had to be another world. Or Grimsley was really messing with him, but both could tell his expression was too real. “… What?” he questioned, cooking a brow at the twins, “Did they not tell you? Apparently, when I started dating them, I wasn't supposed to keep sleeping around.” Nero had to be physically held back. Though, it did confirm that this was not their world.

♧ Before the situation could intensify any further, a familiar voice called out their names. Both stood astonished when their father seemingly appeared with you in strange not-quite spacesuits. The other Grimsley took a few steps back when his counterpart removed his helmet. “… Oh, man, you two actually nearly gave me a heart attack,” he seemingly ignored his lookalike to approach the two kids, “You certainly did Nanu. The old man was calling all the shots on your missing investigation. Didn't think he was that attached to you both.” He brought a hand to rest on each of their shoulders. Morrigan soon shoved Nero out of the way to cling to Grimsley. Nero watched as the other one observed how you approached them, too, smiling softly. He should have felt at ease.

♤ “… What a situation,” the other Grimsley remarked, placing a hand on his hip. It was clear that he could comprehend this scene. Yes, he understood Ultra Wormholes thanks to Nanu's badgering about avoiding them, but here stood a testament to something far greater than his understanding. Something inside of him twisted at the sight of the happy family. It was something that he never desire, but he could observe the genuine smile on his counterpart's face. “… Did something happen to your head?” he questioned his alternate self.

♡ That Grimsley managed to escape his daughter's hold. Turning to his counterpart, he tilted his head. “… Nope,” his simple reply was with a shrug, “I fell in love. I simply couldn't resist them, and now I've built myself up something. It's better than any high from a thrill.” He pointed the twins to follow you as he headed away. “When you really want something as yours… It drives you into a special kind of madness.” He bid his counterpart farewell and walked over wrap an arm around his partner's waist.

That Grimsley pondered if he could have ended up like his counterpart.

🌌Cyrus🛰

☄️ Cyllene would admit she was perhaps a little too playful. Even if she was a child, there were certain things she knew better than to do yet still did. Engaging with Palkia was chief among them. The legendary had opened a portal, and she, curious crawled in. Which led to her seemingly being atop Mt Coronet. She was lost as to what had happened, but simply assumed that Palkia had created a portal to the top of the mountain. She opted against thinking too much on it, as nothing was immediately odd or uncommon. That was until she found herself riding the train back towards Veilstone. Most people glanced at her strangely. It made her a bit nervous, but she otherwise made her home trip as normal.

☄️ The glances in Veilstone were far more intense as she was spotted by some Galactic grunts. She tilted her head at their reaction. They gazed at her like some unexpected oddity. She ignored them and simply made her way to apartment her family resided in. It was only as she approached the door that she realised she did not have her key. Nervously, she brought her tiny fist to knock against the door. It was quiet for far too long until the speaker beside the door beeped on. “… Are you lost?” It was unmistakably the voice of her father, “There is a police box just a few buildings down. They can help out find your parents.” Cyllene stood stunned. Her eyes went wide, and her heart raced in her chest. Her father was not one for such jokes. Tears burned her eyes.

☄️ “… F-Father…?” her voice was small. The PA system was quiet for but a moment. Then a reply. A simple questioning, “Pardon?” Cyllene moved closer to the speaker, knowing it doubled as a camera. “… Dad…” she begged, “Please…. please don't tease me…” She felt like crying. More silence followed before the door clicked open to reveal the man who was no doubt her father. He was wearing more casual clothing and his hair was unstyled, but it was him. She clung to his legs and felt herself begin to cry. Why was he being mean to her?

☄️ This Cyrus stood stunned, however, at this little girl who stood outside his home. He was no fool. The resemblance was plain as day. This child was a relative of his, if not directly related to him. Some horrible sense of empathy burned in his hardened heart as she wept. Instinct got the better of him as he knelt down and rested a hand on her back. Her reactions… They reminded him of someone. He swallowed. Judging by her age… It was not illogical to assume a possibility that she was… He sighed. “There, there…” his voice was soft, “… Are you claiming that you are my daughter?”

☄️ Cyllene nodded. She could not fathom her own father not recognising her. Had he attempted to mess with the Lake Guardians once again? Her panic led to her gripping his arms tightly. “Father…” she mumbled. His eyes went wide. Another question came from him. A question about her whole parentage. Cyllene blinked at this one. “… My other parent is…” A familiar name left her. Cyrus was frozen by her words. His theory… It was correct. How could this be? The question was about to leave him before he finally motioned her in the apartment.

☄️ Cyllene was further shocked at the state of it. There was no trace of family home she had come to know. Nothing of the small projects she had worked on with her father or the bed for Weavile in the living room. It was dark and seemingly mostly unused. Slowly, it finally set in about what had occurred. She felt sick. All she wanted was her Rotom toy or her bed or for her father to sit her in his lap and explain a star map to her. Instead, she was stuck with an alternate reality version of her father. One who clearly did not recognise her. More tears escaped her eyes. This Cyrus seemed to attempt to comfort her again.

☄️ Forcing down her torment, she was faced with a situation. Yet, before she could be given a chance to explain, her father had out his phone and was making a phone call. His tone was reserved, but Cyllene recognised the voice on the other end of the call. A demand was made for them to meet him at once. Seemingly, they relented after a bit of back and forth. Cyrus informed her she would be back with her other parent soon enough. Yet, they needed to have a chat before he handed her back off. Cyllene felt bewildered. There was no time to object when he grasped her hand tugged her along to a certain building in Veilstone. There stood another, waiting with their arms crossed and clear frustration on their face. Though, this was changed when they saw Cyrus approach with Cyllene.

☄️ “Why did you fail to tell me of our child!?” Cyrus's voice was a rare kind of loud and aggressive. Cyllene was startled away from him due to it. Her other parent stood shocked, too. Their eyes went to Cyllene and back to Cyrus. A simple response of not knowing failed to appease the man. The two soon fell into an argument, making Cyllene curl into herself. Panic burned inside her and made her arms feel numb. All she could do was tap to two stones she found on the ground together. It only seemed to grow worse and worse until finally a voice cut through the fighting.

☄️ “Cyllene.” Her head whipped up as tears fell from her eyes. There, approaching from stairs leading up to the Galactic building was another Cyrus. His gaze was firmly on her. Her legs had never moved so quickly. This version of the Galactic Boss caught her and held her tightly to himself. Another person ran up the stair to them. You. Her eyes burned as you brought a hand gently to comb through her hair. The alternate pair of you both came to an abrupt silence.

☄️ “… What is this?” the Cyrus of this world asked. The Cyrus she knew shook his head. “… Pointless to discuss such things. The idea of parallel worlds existing is something that you are no doubt aware of,” was his reply, “It seems we are two versions of the same person who engaged with different choices. Intriguing.” He clutched Cyllene tighter to himself. The other Cyrus nodded. The other you stood shocked at how close you were to your Cyrus. “… I apologise. We will be correcting this error,” with those words, Cyllene was lifted into the air and carried away by her father to a nearby portal.

Somehow, she felt as if those two had been changed by the experience.

🐈‍⬛️Nanu❤️‍🩹

🌑 Ohi'a would admit what he did was dumb. And, without a doubt, would piss off his dad. The geezer probably would be ready to kill him and then himself if he learnt that he got pulled in an Ultra Wormhole. It really had not been his fault. A toddler almost pulled in, and he dumbly rushed over to push them out of the way. He, instead, was sucked in. Yet… Despite all the horror stories of fallers and Miss Anabel's own existence, he did not fell discombobulated nor without his memories. Looking around, in fact, he still just seemed to be in Alola. The same as ever. He shrugged it off and headed back towards the Po Town police station. He needed to discuss whatever happened with his dad even if it was going to be a pain in the ass. He could already feel the hardened glare of the Kahuna piercing his soul.

🌑 He found himself approaching the station, seeing a familiar man and girl outside the door. Both turned to glance at him strangely. Ohi'a cocked up a brow at them. Acerola approached him with a bright smile and asked if he was lost. He was bewildered. Lost? He lived here. His gaze drifted to his dad, who was trying to pretend that he was not there. “… Huh?” he finally spoke, “… It's me. Ohi'a. I live here.” Acerola's head tilted while Nanu's attention finally shifted onto him.

🌑 “… In Alola?” Nanu finally cut in, carefully treading over, “Where, boy? You aren't trying to join Team Skull, are you?” His hands were in his pockets. Those crimson eyes stared into his own matching ones as if attempting to intimidate him. Ohi'a's nose scrunched up. What? He was acting extremely suspicious towards him. Why? Acerola was even treating him like an anomaly, too. It stung more than he would like to admit. Was this some kind of punishment? It was not like his father at all. Nanu could be a bit of a hard ass, but nothing cruel. Something was wrong here.

🌑 “… No. I mean…” Ohi'a trailed off, pondering what to say. The idea of parallel realities was no unknown to him. That one trainer on their island challenge had told him about their travels in the Ultra Wormhole. An alternate reality, far into the future of a destroyed Hau'Oli city. He stiffened up. Bringing his hand to the back of his neck, he sighed. “… Look, I don't think you'll believe me, but I fell through an Ultra Wormhole,” he explained. Nanu tensed up visibly at his words. “Through some struck of luck, I still have my memories,” he met his gaze, “… No idea what's going on in this world, but in mine, you're my old man.”

🌑 Nanu registered his words in an instant. The suspicion towards him somehow seemed to both fall and increase. Shaking his head, a sigh left him. Acerola gasped at Ohi'a's words and looked between Nanu and him. The Kahuna motioned for him to follow him into the police station. He waved Acerola off, too. Both of them sat in the station for a moment in silence. Ohi'a took in that it seemed much more… different from his memories. A single couch for sleeping. Nothing really to survive on. Some take-out and instant ramen about. “… So, can I ask who your other parent is?” he finally broke the silence. Something told Ohi'a that he already had an idea. His reply of a certain name only got a nod. “Figured…” He sighed, “… Am I a happy family man in your world or something?”

🌑 “… Nope,” Ohi'a replied, watching a Meowth approach him and give his hand a sniff. He brought a hand to pet the pokemon. Its soft fur, a familiar comfort. Nanu observed the interaction. “You're exactly the same, but you're married,” he shrugged, “… I guess you get busy with us, though. Tapu Bulu seems quite happy you had a kid.” Nanu scoffed at that. “I need to get back, you know” he continued, “My parents… They'll end up worried. You seem to think I'm more trouble than I'm worth until something happens to me.”

🌑 Nanu glanced at him. “… Are they happy?” he asked seriously. Ohi'a thought on his family for a moment. It was difficult to tell with how tormented Nanu could be, but he knew his father simply enjoyed the peacefulness of being in a loving relationship. You adored Nanu, often being far too affectionate for either of their tastes, but the small smile on his father's lips. You were happy as can be. Despite everything, he felt his family life was healthy. His parents were in a loving relationship, and they both cared for him.

🌑 “… Pretty much,” he nodded, “… What happened here?” He glanced at the alternate version of his father. Nanu shook his head. Ohi'a felt curious. His father always seemed quite attached to his other parent, typically being quite open to whatever they wanted simply to appease them or make them happy. Granted, it was still in his usual lazy fashion, but it was much like a cat putting up with its owner annoying it out of love. “Are you not together?” Another head shake. Ohi'a felt his heart drop. It was already strange enough being in a world where he did not exist, but his parents not being together felt strangely more difficult.

🌑 Before the conversation could grow any deeper, the door to the station opened, revealing three people in strange suits. Ohi'a recognised them as the attire of the Ultra Recon Squad. Stepping in, one removed their helmet to meet the eyes of the other two. Another Nanu. It felt like something out of a bad movie. “… There you are,” he walked to Ohi'a, “… You're more trouble than you're worth, boy.” The boy rolled his eyes in return. The other person revealed themselves to be you as you rushed over to hug him. He groaned at the tightness. The third actually seemed to be one of the Ultra Recon members.

🌑 The other Nanu relaxed as the recon member explained that they had a way to safely return to their original world. Yet, he felt himself staring at the family for far too long. Everything he had rejected because he felt so unworthy stood right in front of him. His counterpart met his eye. “Thanks for watching over him,” he nodded, “I apologise if he caused any problems.” The Kahuna shook his head. As the four departed from the station, he sat alone for a moment in deep thought.

Maybe he should contact them. It probably was not too late.

[icarusflewsworld]

Rhysand & Cassian & Azriel X OC

Hello, here is the chapter 4 of a fanfiction on the world of Acotar where our three favorite Batboys are the mates of a single woman.

I hope you like it! Don't hesitate to let me know if you prefer the OC to become y/n and/or gender neutral.

Also, I apologize for any mistakes you might find, I'm just a French girl doing her best with Google Translate and her average score of 5 in English classe.

! Don't forget to read the previous chapters ! : Here

Happy reading!

Chapitre 4

Luxiana laughed silently as she made an apologetic face at the three Illyrians, asking them silently to forgive Nesta's behavior. 

They sat down around the table, leaving Tamlin's sleeping body on the ground, which Lucien and Feyre had gently put his back against a wall, waiting for him to wake up. Nesta had taken her place at the end of the table, and Elain at her side soon found herself facing Lucien. Feyre positioned herself at the redhead's side and Rhysand, to Feyre's dismay, took his place beside her. Cassian and Azriel sat in front of them, with Luxiana at the end of the table between Rhys and Cassian.

Dinner was very tense. Nesta didn’t stop throwing cutting remarks at Feyre and Lucien defended her, although he was quieter with Elain, to whom he only gave blushing glances. 

As for Cassian, Rhysand and Azriel, who understood nothing of the animosity between the sisters, remained silent, not caring how Feyre was treated or what had happened to them. That said, giving sideways glances at the pretty blonde at their side, the three Illyrians could see that she’d lowered her head. Their soulmate seemed saddened by the quarrel between the three Archerons, and this was what made them curious and wanting to know more about the situation. 

Azriel tried to find out more and Elain vaguely explained that they didn’t take care of Feyre when they should have. Cassian was irritated to see the situation impact his soul mate, so he wasn’t able to restrain himself from throwing bad remarks at the viper who was their host. Rhysand, as a good high lord, had to contain his anger despite wanting to do the same as Cassian, and so, he deviates the conversation to the subject of the queens, the meeting and the letter he would like to send them. 

Luxiana kept her eyes focused on her plate, her head bowed, her eyes sad. She didn’t listen to any of the conversation, her thoughts still focus on what Feyre told her she'd been through in the past few months. She was sad, and she knew she couldn't totally hide her sadness when she raised her head from time to time to pretend to listen to the sisters' words, but she couldn't stop her heart from breaking. She had let Feyre suffer. She failed to protect her despite the fact that Feyre saved her life. She couldn't make the same mistake again. She couldn't let Feyre go back on the other side of the wall. At least, not alone. 

“Write the letter to the queens, Elain and I will go post it tomorrow. We're leaving,” said Nesta, rising from the table with an air of disdain that allowed Luxiana to shake her head and come back to herself. “Luxiana will show you your rooms.” 

They both disappeared, allowing the atmosphere in the room to lighten a little. 

Feyre turned a somewhat shocked gaze on Luxiana, realizing something. “Do you live here?”

Luxiana nodded, smiling. “They offered it to me when they realized I was sticking to them all the time. Besides, I'd almost settled here in spite of them anyway, so it was easier to keep an eye on them.”

“Wow,” exclaimed Cassian with shining eyes, “you've managed to charm that viper?” 

He was undoubtedly talking about Nesta, which caused Luxiana to burst out laughing uncontrollably. 

Cassian began to feel pride swell in his chest at the hilarity he had provoked in the blonde. Azriel couldn't believe her ears. How was it possible to have such a melodious laugh and look so beautiful? Rhysand had to hold on to the table with both hands, his whole body tickling. 

“Do you doubt my capacity for seduction, Commander of the Armies? I can charm anyone when I want to,” Luxiana said with a smirk, winking at the brunette with the red siphons.

Cassian had to brace himself to keep the member between his thighs from swelling. This woman was his soul mate, damn it, he could feel it in his bones, in his heart, under his skin. 

Azriel felt a wave of jealousy and anger devour him from the inside. He didn't want her to charm anyone, just him, and she'd already succeeded very well.

Cassian was his best friend, but Rhysand could have sworn he'd have ripped his skin off if he wasn't also his soulmate's mate.  

“You haven't changed a bit,” exclaimed Feyre.

“What?” smiled Luxiana, already knowing full well what her best friend was going to say.

“Stop flirting with everyone,” mocked Feyre. 

The three brothers couldn't help but tense up even more, gritting their teeth. They really didn't like hearing that their mate had already flirted with men before them. They felt even more irritated than before. Although Cassian's ego took a whack at the understanding that she didn’t only flirt with him and that he has then nothing special, his disappointment was rapidly replaced by sharp anger and all-consuming frustration. Azriel had the irrational urge of wanting to find her previous lovers and rip off their hands, eyes and tongues. Rhysand had to restrain his power to explode around him and kill every man in the land because some of them had once laid eyes on his soul mate. 

No matter how much they tried to reassure themselves that this woman was far too charming to have never had a relationship before, the idea that other men had already laid hands on her seemed to plunge them into an incomprehensible rage. They were so jealous that it made them feel as if they were being torn into a thousand little pieces. It was a completely strange, crazy and incoherent sensation. Illyrians were possessive, but the way they were with that girl although they didn't even know her was already far too insane. As if they could feel more emotions than before... As if… As if their feelings were multiplied by three. 

***

Luxiana gave a room to Feyre, who hoped to be joined by Tamlin during the night, and left Lucien in another room with a polite smile. 

“Are the three of you going to sleep together?” asked Luxiana, opening the door to the largest room in the house to allow the Illyrians access.

“Yes, as we don't know the place, it would be safer for us to stay together,” replied Rhysand. 

The three brothers entered the room, examining it from floor to ceiling, then turned back to the blonde unable to take their eyes off her for too long.

“Unless you invite me to sleep in your room,” Cassian whispered seductively to the blonde.

Luxiana returned his expression. She really wasn't intimidated by Cassian or his obvious way of flirting with her, and he loved it. 

“My room's at the end of the corridor, you can sleep there if you want, but unfortunately I won't be there tonight.” 

The three Illyrians froze, tensing their muscles, trying to hide their irritation. Why the hell wouldn't she be in her room tonight? Whose room would she be in?  

“Are you leaving?” questioned Azriel, frowning and gritting his teeth.

“Indeed, I must...” Luxiana began hesitantly, “...go and do something.”

“In the middle of the night?” grumbled Rhysand, squinting with incomprehension. “What kind of thing do you have to do?”

The blonde lowered her eyes for a second, her empty gaze shining with a glint of sadness. “The kind of thing that's not going to do me any good if you ask me, but... I've got things to elucidate before…”

She shook her head before saying too much. She didn't know if she could trust them, and anyway, what she was going to do with her life, how much she wanted to protect Feyre or the goodbyes she was going to give tonight were none of their concern.

Rhysand, Cassian and Azriel didn't like this at all. Luxiana remained mysterious about her occupations and distorted by a bitter taste of jealousy on their palates and a vice in their guts, they felt like they had a bad feeling. They really didn't like it.

“Isn't it dangerous for humans to walk alone in the streets in the middle of the night, especially for a woman as pretty as you?” asked Cassian, clasping his hands behind his back so he could clench his fists without her noticing.

Luxiana shrugged mockingly. “It is, but I'm in a good mood today, I shouldn't be attacking anyone.” 

Cassian smiled for a second, he loved her confidence, but he soon lost it. He and his brothers were no longer in the mood for laughter either. 

“Will you be alone?” asked Azriel in a much colder intonation than he would have liked. 

Luxiana squinted and gritted her teeth, shivering. Part of her didn't like the tone, but another thought it was far too sexy. “You three do ask a lot of questions,” she remarked suspiciously as she crossed her arms, forcing herself to scowl. She didn't understand their curiosity or the point of all their questions, and then suspiciously thought they were trying to get some compromising information.

Azriel's anger buzzed in his ears. Why was she being so secretive about her destination and intentions? Was she meeting another man? Someone she would love more than him and who already took his heart? He gritted his teeth. 

The irritating mix of feelings Cassian was trying to contain as best he could was insane. He couldn't stop the flow of anger and frustration inside him. He knew all these questions were intrusive, especially for people who didn't know each other, and he didn't want to sound indiscreet, but damn it, it was killing him not to know where she was going or what she was going to do.

Rhysand held back a grimace as he noticed the young woman's discomfort and realized they'd gone much too far, “Let's just say we don't want anything to happen to a woman as charming as you coming to our aid.”

Luxiana had to lower her eyes and head for a moment, biting her tongue to stop herself from blushing. She didn't believe his concern for a second, but the way he'd tilted his head and leaned forward toward her with a piercing gaze had the merit of warming her cheeks.

She raised her head with a confident look, forcing herself to appear self-assured “Your concern is touching, but don't worry, I'm used to it. I'll be back at dawn. Have a good night.”  She wasted no more time, going out of the room, and closing the door behind her, leaving shocked and angered Illyrians there.

Rhysand, Cassian and Azriel said nothing more, standing with swinging arms in the middle of the room. Each of them struggled with the irrational urge to follow their soulmate, whom they barely knew, to make sure she was all right and didn't go off with another man.

“We should follow her,” Azriel gave up first.

“No, we can't penetrate into her intimacy like that,” Rhysand remarked reluctantly, his own insides making him pay. He needed so much to follow her, to touch her, to feel her. His whole body was burning all over, clamoring to be near her, but he knew full well it was overstepping his rights and interfering in her privacy. “She said she was used to it, so there's no reason for us to worry.”

“Speak for yourself I've got a whole bunch of reasons running through my head right now,” Cassian retorted with a worried look, his breathing suddenly panting. He plopped down on the bed and rested his forearms on his thighs, despite one of his legs jumping up and down in a hurry. “It's been months since we haven’t seen you smile, Rhys. Ever since you came back, you've been like a ghost, but there, in front of her, you gave the impression of being you again, of being alive again.”

Rhysand didn't answer, his gaze still focused on the door where his soulmate had just left him. He knew his brother was right. This woman was his mate, and the burst of life she had awakened in his chest was doing him a world of good. He felt alive again. Ever since he'd laid eyes on her, Rhysand was breathing. He was breathing, for God's sake. She'd given meaning to everything he'd experienced. Everything. He didn't even know her yet, and yet the mere words he'd exchanged with her had already filled him with excitement. 

Azriel also detailed Rhysand. Cassian was right, Rhysand hadn't behaved like this since he'd returned. The Illyrian with the blue siphons was very worried about his brother and what he must have gone through under the mountain. It pleased him to see that Rhysand seemed to be coming back to life a little thanks to this girl, but it drove him crazy with rage because he too felt alive thanks to her. He would always sacrifice his happiness for his brother's, especially after what one of them has been through for fifty years, even if it made him tired to have to do it, he'd have done it. He would have left his brother the woman he loved. But here, with her, his soul mate, he simply couldn't think of not having her, even if it was at his brother's cost. She was his. 

Cassian looked at his two brothers in turn. He could almost read their minds and know what they wanted. Luxiana. She was their soulmate. He knew they felt strange things for this girl, something beyond simple attraction because he felt the same way they did. This woman intrigued them. Her mind and body reacted in a thousand ways in her presence. Hell, there was no doubt about it. Especially not the way her body tingled whenever she laid eyes on him, or the way his mouth burned with the desire to taste her. And it wasn't just physical; Cassian had already been physically attracted to a woman and it had never disturbed him so much. Even now, with Luxiana gone, he still thought of her and his muscles burned with the desire to pursue her. She was everything and the only thing he and his brothers wanted, because she was their soulmate. 

“What if she's going to join another man?” growled Azriel, mad with rage and jealousy at the thought, his teeth clenched so tightly it was hurting him. 

Cassian growled as he clenched his fists, his jealousy tearing at his stomach. 

Rhysand felt the same, but his good conscience was stronger for the moment. “It's her life. We can't stop her from doing what she wants.” His words burned his tongue.  Hell, he wanted to give up and join her, but it feels so wrong. 

“We're not stopping her from doing anything, we're just making sure she doesn't get hurt,” Cassian said as he gripped the edge of the mattress, squeezing the sheets between his fists. What he just said was only part of the truth. He also wanted to make sure she didn't join another man tonight. He couldn't help it. 

Azriel was shaking, an image of a man touching that fragile little woman to hurt her emerging in his mind. “Stay here if you like, I'm going.” He threw himself at the door to open it and step out of the room.

That was all Cassian and Rhysand needed to follow him. The three of them made themselves invisible and ran silently towards Luxiana. They caught up with her in the entrance hall. They winced as they watched her rush out of the house without even putting on a coat or grabbing a cloth to cover her arms. 

Luxiana stepped into the biting cold of the night and headed for the stable to pick up a horse. When she'd seen Feyre in the house, she'd forgotten how she'd frozen to death this morning fulfilling yet another mission Kaden had given her, and how she'd promised herself to take a coat the next time she went out.

The cold was brutal this evening, but Luxiana, because of her guilt over what had happened to Feyre, accepted the wind's bite on her face and arms as a deserved punishment. Her best friend had suffered far worse under the mountain because she'd been too stupid to trust herself and that she hadn't gone to make sure she was okay. 

Rhysand, Cassian and Azriel followed her, flying at a distance as silently as possible, but worry, anger and jealousy made their bodies hum loudly. Such a fragile little human should not be wandering out alone in the dark night in such cold temperatures without any protection. From where they stood, they could see her arms and face reddened by the temperature in the negative, and notice her limbs shaking violently.

Cassian had to fight with every cell in his being that urged him to throw himself at her to warm her up and bring her back to the Archerons' abode. He didn't like the idea that she had someone so important to see that was so worth putting her life on the line for. He didn't like the fact that she hadn't even thought of taking a coat. He didn't like the fact that she hadn't wanted to tell them where she was going. And fuck, he didn't like the tugging, aching sensation of his body which just wanting to take her in his arms.

Azriel was angry. She should have brought a coat. She needed to be punished for going out so late, especially if it was to join another man, so the cold was an excellent way to do it for her. But damn, it was so crazy and reckless for a young woman to be walking around half-naked in a frozen landscape. It meant that the person she was joining was more important than her own life, and the idea that it might be a man drove Azriel mad with rage. If that were the case, he'd burn every inch of this man's skin that had come into contact with his soul mate and he would make her watch.

Rhysand was worried. Humans got sick very easily. She could become seriously ill from this cold. His soul mate. His fragile, human, little soul mate. He was already so worried about her when she wasn't even his yet. A part of him - which he didn't even know how his good conscience still managed to fight - just wanted to kidnap her and lock her up in his house, where she'd be safe, cherished and loved. But he knew she wouldn't be happy, not by being forced into a place against her will. And it was knowing his soul mate was happy that mattered most to Rhysand.

Suddenly, in the blink of an eye, Luxiana disappeared. The three Illyrians froze in mid-air for a moment, before rushing down to the place where they last saw her. They put their feet down, looking in all directions, hoping to catch a glimpse of her, but she had vanished.

“What the hell?” panicked Cassian, spinning around in circles, trying to catch a clue to the disappearance of his soul mate. 

Rhysand's heart pounded in his chest and a ball of anguish crushed his gut as he prayed that nothing bad had happened to his soul mate. 

Azriel managed to keep a controlled calm, or rather a controlled panic. He noticed the footprints of the horse his soul mate took, which were still very much present in the icy white layer of the ground, despite the thick snowflakes that were falling. 

Their visibilities were reduced, but the tracks Azriel could see showed him that his soul mate had turned off to the side in one fell swoop, leaving the road and entering the dense forest ahead. 

“This way,” he told his brothers in a voice louder and sharper than necessary, a voice filled with anger and uncertainty. 

They threw themselves body and soul into the wood, following the horse's footsteps and chasing their soulmate to make sure she was all right. But the forest was too dense, the trees too close together, the grass far too tall for them to follow the trail properly and quickly, and above all, there were other tracks everywhere. Animals that had passed by and were unintentionally blurring the trail. All that, until they totally lost the track of their soulmate.

Worry, anger, guilt and frustration made them tremble. How could they lose track of her so stupidly? They felt so dumb. Their mate !

They searched everywhere for hours and hours, but they hadn't found her. Not even in the next village, where Rhysand had searched everyone's minds to see if anyone had seen her, but she had simply disappeared. 

In the end, they resigned themselves to returning to the Archerons' home, their only hope being that she knew where she was going, what she was doing and, above all, that she would come back safe.

[merakiui]

I have arrived for..

HAPPY MERA DAYYYYY!! 🎉✨

I might be a bit early for you though but in our place it's 11/11!! Happy birthday to our dear Mera and may all the gacha lords give her the card that she had been yearning for and for you to have fun on your very special day!

... may tako (ಠ⁠ಗ⁠ಠ).. OR ANY OF YOUR FAVES COME HOME TO YOU~~

My gift to you is a brainworm for your birthday! As the queendom has said there is only one birthday for 366 days (it's a leap year) so happy birthday to you~

Skully J. Graves have kicked Tako out of your top fave (GOOD FOR YOU!) and so here is a brainworm for dear skully.

Skully is the King of Halloween and it is just befitting for him to have a queen just like how Jack has Sally. Many fans of him states here that skully would like a step sister or how he'll like you wearing something in the victorian era (or his era). I've got this idea out of your fic with Riddle with his father-in-law as a toy maker so, what if that's how skully met you? as a porcelain doll that he wouldn't have thought existed.

(I haven't been up to date much with his character but I'll try!) His mother who remarried a doll maker, from clay to wax to cloth he could make any tips but for Skully he has a favorite one, the human sized porcelain doll that his dear step father has made. So pretty, so calm.. surely it was made for him

Skullys been practicing wooing and courting someone with you, you wouldn't judge his shy self, just taking it with a soft smile that he thinks that deep down you were smiling at him, softly laughing as you think he's quite adorable with how he fumbles and stutters, he knew you'd accept him as how he is

But one day he heard that the doll is finally being delivered to the person who has commissioned the doll and he is desperate, what do you mean his doll is being taken away?? he couldn't just take it and hide it in his room and make his dear father who makes his mother happy pay for his mistakes so he volunteers to come with to deliver the doll, giving it a promise that he'd be back to take what's his..

and when they finally arrive at the manor, he stops. he stops and stares at the moving doll beside their customer that mysteriously looks too much like his doll who's in the box.

you were made just for him, weren't you?

hahaha I'm not that good with writing my thoughts out but I hope this at least got the brainworm through! happy Mera day once again~~ 🎁

PS. I love any name Mera gives to me hihi

-mafia tako/mera day anon

AAAAA DEAREST MAFIA TAKO ANON, THANK YOU!!!!! :D I feel like it would be much too egotistical if I gave you an anon name after myself (^^;;;), so I hope mafia tako anon is just as lovely a name!!! <3 now as for this delicious brain worm......... >:D

Ooooo I just love the idea of Skully falling head over heels for a doll, only to have his entire world shaken when it turns out there's a real person this doll is based on!!! >w< it could only be the work of fate that brought him to you!! And while he still treasures the doll very much, he quite likes the sound of your voice and the animated ways in which you move and exist. Stalking admiring you when you go out into town to do your shopping or when you're out on dates with your beloved (who shouldn't even be in the picture if you ask Skully >:( he wants to be your lover and he will,,, one day).

Skully who is so certain you'll love him in the same way he loves you. After all, he practiced kissing with you (the doll) and even professed his love dozens of times, and you accepted it with a wordless smile!!! So he's not sure why you (the real, living, moving you) is so frightened when he breaks into your home. He's sorry for being so rude and inviting himself in, but you just haven't been replying to his letters and he just wants to finally introduce himself in person... please don't be scared!! >_< waaa so delusional,,,

[puck-luck]

Congrats on 1K!!! Could you do prompt 24, Suit 2 Clubs with Jack Hughes?!

Note: this one is not my best because i've been struggling to fulfill these prompts the past two days <3 BUT we persist!! i have some fire blurbs coming up soon :)

Warnings: spanking, bratty behavior WC: 676

“You’re not being funny,” Jack says. 

Except that you are. His frustration is laughable. Although, you will admit that the running gag is getting tiresome. It’s only getting tiresome because you want Jack to fuck you. As much fun as it is for you to see his expression grow more and more fed up, you thought he’d be the point of fucking you silly by now.

“I won’t do it again,” you tell him innocently, batting your eyelashes. “I promise.”

Jack stares at you, not believing a word that comes out of your mouth. He’s stopped his movements, even drawn his fingers out of you. “You promise,” he repeats.

You hold up a hand like you’re swearing on the bible. “I promise.”

Jack bats your hand down. “This is your last chance. You do this one more time and I won’t fuck you.”

You pout at him.

“I mean it,” Jack says. He plants a quick kiss on your pout, which makes it disappear. “If you can’t keep your legs open, then you won’t get my cock at all. Act like a brat and I’ll treat you like a brat.”

“It was an accident,” you whine, using the same argument you’ve been spouting since the first time Jack told you to knock it off.

“You’ve been making the same mistake too many times for it to be an accident,” Jack chides. He pats your hip, then guides you onto your stomach. He pulls you up so that your behind meets his pelvis, then he rubs his hands over the globes of your ass. “It would be a shame to let this night go to waste, baby.”

“It’s not like I can close my legs in this position,” you say. 

“Exactly,” Jack replies with a swat. “I’m a problem-solver.”

“You’re annoying,” you grumble, mumbling into the pillow. 

You hear Jack scoff behind you. “Come again?”

“Wanna come for the first time,” you reply, glaring at him out of the side of your eyes. 

Jack pinches the sensitive skin on the back of your thigh, making you yelp. “Trying to get sassy with me?”

“Just stating the facts.”

“You’re looking to get a spanking,” Jack warns. “Is that what you want?”

You grin to yourself, making sure to hide your face from Jack. “No,” you say, not very convincingly. 

He laughs a bit. “You’re not very good at this.”

“You’re not giving me any incentive to be good.” You’re really pushing it today, but it’s all in good fun. Jack’s not going to react badly to your fighting– he never does. Sure, he’ll dom you and he’ll get pissed off, but he always reacts appropriately. He gives you your comeuppance when you deserve it.

Jack’s hand falls on your ass. It stings a bit, but you like it. You wiggle back and bury your face in the pillow, arching your back so Jack is even more enticed by the view. 

“Oh, baby, you’re getting greedy,” Jack teases. “You can’t just present yourself and expect me to fall for it. Ask me for more.”

You groan, frustrated. To be fair, you’d been denying him earlier by shuttering your legs and trapping him inside, then giggling as he admonished you, so this is completely fair for Jack. He’s allowed to tease a little and deny you.

“Fuck me?” You request sweetly, putting on a voice that Jack will fall for.

He spanks you again. “Do you deserve that?”

You roll your eyes. Annoying. “Will you put your fingers in me? Wanna be full, Jack.” 

“No, I think you’ve gotten enough of my fingers today…”

“Jack,” you complain. 

“Mhm,” Jack hums, rubbing his hands over your behind. He’s clutching at your skin, squeezing the handfuls on his palms. “Third time’s a charm?”

“Whatever you want,” you bargain. “Please. I’ll take whatever you want.”

Jack pauses, suspending your breath for a moment before he starts to touch you again. “Good,” he murmurs. He spanks you once more before pulling your hips back into his front and grinding himself against you. “Good choice.”

[thisgirlnamedblusy]

Hey big fan of your work! I was wondering if you could write about Donna killing a trespasser in front of reader, she becomes really worried that this has upset reader/reader will see her as a monster but it actually really turns the reader on (powerful/protective lady moment ahh), maybe smut if you can! No GP <3

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

Powerful enough

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem! Reader

Warnings: Slightly dark themes, smut at the end, Minors DNI, mentions of violence and murder, Donna being Donna, fluff

Word count: 8,404

Summary: Can she really protect you?

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

“I don't know what I'm doing here, I should be making my dolls,” Donna murmured, letting you take her hand, despite her reluctance.

Opposites attract or so they said. Nonsense, attracted was a too insignificant verb to describe your relationship. In the two years you had been in that isolated house, you had felt many things similar to pure attraction, but with an intensity that made that word not enough.

Still, convincing Donna to leave her house, even for an innocent and invigorating walking around the grounds, was quite a feat.

“You spend all day with your dolls, I think a quiet walk with your girlfriend won’t hurt you, right?” you said amused, giving her repeated kisses on the cheek, to which the brunette protested with a playful movement of her hands.

“Ugh,” she groaned; her grumpy attitude at an all-time high.

A pity that those tender protests were one of the things you adored about Lady Beneviento.

“Going out is fun!” Angie shouted, who seemed much happier with that excursion than her owner.

“Look, Angie is happy,” you commented, blinking petulantly, leaning towards the lady’s shoulder. “Donna, stop being so grumpy, will you?”

“I'm not grumpy, tesoro,” she protested, sighing and looking around. “I just feel helpless to your requests.”

“That's because you love me,” you hissed with a mocking smile, clinging to her affectionately. “Or well, maybe I have some mental powers too.”

“Maybe, you're the most stubborn girl I've ever seen,” Donna teased, stealing a quick kiss on your lips and making your cheeks blush. “What's your goal with this?”

“My goal?” you asked confused. “Well… it doesn't have a goal. It’s just to spend the time and…”

“Spend the time,” the brunette repeated, looking around. “It's terribly cold, (Y/N).”

“You're such a whiner, darling, but don't worry, I'm used to it,” you said with a tone impregnated with malice, but without really being an acid comment. “Let's talk about something.”

“Mm? What do you want to talk about? It's cold,” she said, frowning, uncomfortable since, once again, you managed to convince her not to wear her veil.

After all, she didn't need it, it was still her land. No one dared to go beyond the wooden door, much less the bridge.

It took you a while to convince her to lose her fear of letting the breeze caress her beauty, but over time you had become a true master of conviction. Well, it could be that or that Donna was simply madly in love with you. Either option seemed valid to you.

“Let's see, let's see...” you whispered thoughtfully, looking up at the snowy trees that guarded the Lord’s territory like silent guardians, like a reminder that you were, in some way, safe. “Oh, yes, I've already finished the book you gave me.”

“You read fast,” Donna murmured, glancing at you out of the corner of her eye, resuming her steps, perhaps more calmly than before.

“You know I love adventures,” you said, sighing romantically, finally managing to walk at the same time as her, holding on to her hand, as if you didn't want to let her go. “Hey, let’s go that way,” you said, deviating slightly from the path towards one of the dilapidated cabins.

“That way? Why do you want to go that way?” the lady asked, letting your hand go and tilting her head as she looked at the cabins. “(Y/N), it’s dangerous, something could collapse and…”

“How old are those cabins?” you asked, making your way through the undergrowth surrounding what was once surely a beautiful metal structure, full of flowers.

“Oh, um…” she replied, watching your clumsy steps through the weeds. “Those cabins were here before my family built the house.”

“Interesting,” you commented, nodding slowly and looking for the best place to cross that kind of protection time granted to that place. “Well, if they haven’t collapsed in all this time, I doubt they will now, right?”

“You are definitely stubborn,” the lady whispered, leading you by the arm along a safer path to one of the cabins. “There, a ruined cabin just for you.”

“Great,” you sighed, rubbing your hands together, but showing no sign of imminent freezing.

“Be careful, (Y/N),” Donna whispered as you explored, the thirst for adventure running through your veins.

“Yes, yes…” you said, rolling your eyes and glancing around that desolate cabin. “Who lived here?”

“Josef, the gardener,” the lady said, answering your question in a somewhat hasty way. “He always worked for my family, he even took care of me after…” she whispered, stopping right at the end of the sentence, not wanting to remember all the tragedies she had to live through.

“Donna, calm down,” you said, cupping her face in your hands before an inevitable crisis clouded that wonderful day. “You don't have to tell me, come on, breathe…” you said, doing relaxation exercises you already knew and that luckily, also calmed the inevitable madness of the lady in black.

“I-I'm sorry,” she stammered, regaining her calm gaze and sketching a shy smile. “I've gotten a little nervous.”

“I know, it's okay,” you said, kissing her slowly on the lips, thus finishing to calm her tormented mind. “Come, Angie, let's explore,” you said to the doll, who followed you immediately.

You and Angie walked through that ruined cabin, finding just old books, typewriters destroyed by time and gardening tools, but, nothing interesting, unfortunately.

You were about to give up, to recognize the cold you were going through and tell your girlfriend you wanted to go home, when you noticed an old shed on the side of the cabin.

“Well, well, Donna, come, look at this,” you said as you and Angie peered over a fallen piece of wood that spanned the shed. “Wait a minute…” you sighed, pulling the obstacle and letting it fall into the snow.

“Be more careful, silly!” Angie protested, as she was almost crushed.

“Oops, sorry,” you said with a worried face, enduring the blows of the doll on your shins. “Look at this…”

“Mm,” the lady murmured, frowning and looking into the shed.

Inside the old structure was a sort of miniature of a house with a too convenient path leading down, as if something had to go there. Beneath the model, there were some tightly closed bars, and inside there was a golden glow that immediately caught your attention.

“What’s this?” you asked, studying that miniature house. “Look, it moves,” you said surprised, realizing that you could move the model at will.

“Oh, it's one of the four labyrinths of Norshteyn,” the brunette explained, with disinterest.

“Who?” you asked, scratching your head and looking curiously at the lady. “A labyrinth?”

“Mm,” she murmured in response, approaching the model with a serious look. “In the 19th century, a craftsman named Norshteyn came to the village. They said he was considered a heretic in his country.

You nodded, blinking in curiosity.

“A craftsman?” you asked, running your fingers over that house. “Wow, he was good.”

“It is said that he made them due to the hospitality in the village. He built four labyrinths for each of the noble families of the place, labyrinths that could contain whatever they wanted,” Donna explained, passing her hand next to yours. “The families deposited some of their treasures inside the labyrinth, hoping that no thief could get them.”

“Oh,” you said attentively, trying to open the gate, something impossible. “He certainly did a good job, this is impossible to open.”

“You can pull as hard as you want, tesoro,” she said, amused by your fruitless attempts. “Karl, Alcina and Salvatore have one model too.”

“Of course... the four families, four Lords, it makes sense,” you said amused, studying the mechanism. “Surely he felt satisfied with his job.”

“Not exactly,” the lady corrected, getting closer to your ear. “When he finished the last of them, he blew off his head.”

“Um, what?” you said, scared by the sinister voice that Donna mastered perfectly. “Why?”

“Nobody knows, it is said that he had four wives, and they all died. He couldn't handle the guilt and…” she whispered in a mysterious tone. “There are many stories about him, but the legend said that he sold his soul to the devil to rescue those of the four loves of his life, paying a very high price.”

“A-A price…” you stammered, letting yourself be carried away by that slightly terrifying atmosphere. “Which one?”

“His own life,” she said, with an increasingly sinister tone, surrounding you by the waist from behind, making you swallow. “There are people who say that those souls… live in these labyrinths… the souls in pain of his wives, desperately searching for their lover, for all eternity.”

“Boo!” Angie screamed, coming out from behind the model and making you almost jump into Donna's arms, taking refuge behind her.

“Yiah!” you screamed, your heart beating very hard while the doll laughed, as did her owner. “Donna…”

“What's wrong, tesoro? Did we scare you?” she asked, grabbing your arm and pulling you closer to her in a playful way, kissing you quickly.

“Yes…” you reluctantly admitted, crossing your arms, but returning the kisses while the doll laughed satisfied. “Donna, you give me the creeps.”

“It must be the cold,” Donna joked, kissing you for the last time and releasing you from her grip while you, pathetically, tried to regain your composure. “Anyway, you won't be able to open it just like that, it needs a key.”

“A key,” you commented, shaking your dress and squinting at the doll, who was still laughing at the scare she gave you. “What key? Do you have it?”

“I don’t,” she said, arranging your clothes lovingly, rubbing your arms. “It's not just any key, it's a kind of ball that you have to roll along the rails to get it into this hole here, see?” she pointed to a small round hole at the end of the model, and you nodded curiously.

“A ball... I see, well, we'll have to look for it, right?” you said, catching your breath and searching around the model. “You don't know where it is? It belonged to your family, didn't it?”

“Yes, but it's probably lost,” the lady commented, sighing with a victorious smile. “Don't bother looking for it, my grandfather tried several times and didn't find it.”

“Well, maybe I can,” you said enthusiastically. “It could be a good adventure, right? The search for a treasure…”

“(Y/N), let's go home, you're just wasting time,” she said, putting a hand on your shoulder.

“Killjoy,” you hissed discreetly. “Come on, Donna, it has to be somewhere…”

“No, besides, it's getting dark, we should go back now,” the lady insisted, crossing her arms.

The cold was already unbearable, and, although you hated to agree with your girlfriend, that time she was right.

“Ugh, okay,” you sighed with a childish grimace. “But I plan to find that key,” you said, raising a finger and letting Donna slide her hand around your waist, guiding you on the way home.

“Mm, I didn't know you were interested in treasure hunts,” she commented with a tender smile.

“Well,” you said in a passive tone. “I've read a lot of similar stories, but I still prefer novels about knights, you know: damsels in distress, dragons…”

Donna laughed, shaking her head and pulling you a little closer to her.

“They are my absolute weakness,” you murmured, fantasizing about your favorite stories. “Especially the part where the brave knight kills the dragon and saves the girl. It must be very romantic.”

“Dragons don't exist,” Donna said in a serious tone, showing you her poor conversational skills, taking everything you said totally seriously.

“Tell your sister,” you said amused, making her shake her head. “The feeling of being saved by a strong and brave knight… it must be great, right?”

“Mm,” she murmured, kissing your hair, not paying too much attention to your fanciful words.

“You know, oh my dear knight, I'm so weak I think I'm going to faint…” you said in a dramatic tone, pulling away and putting a hand on your forehead before doing something stupid, before letting yourself fall to the ground, hoping that she would pick you up in her arms, something that, of course, didn't happen.

“Ouch!” you screamed as you fell to the snowy ground with a thud, glaring angrily at your girlfriend.

“What are you doing? Have you gone crazy?”  the lady said, clumsily helping you up as Angie laughed out loud again. “(Y/N)…”

“Ugh, you were supposed to pick me up,” you whispered, letting yourself be helped and checking to see if you had hurt yourself. “Donna… you didn't save your damsel in distress.”

“Damsel in distress? Cavolo, (Y/N), how do you expect me to know that you were going to let yourself fall?” she protested, checking your condition as well. “Are you hurt?”

“No, I'm fine,” you growled with a childish gesture, pushing the brunette's hands away. “And you, stop laughing,” you said to Angie, who was writhing on the floor.

“You are so silly, silly, silly,” the doll mocked, pointing at you with her finger. “You amuse me.”

“Fine,” you hissed, rubbing your back and noticing an even more penetrating cold. “Brr, I'm going to catch a cold.”

“Don't worry, tesoro, let's go home and take a hot bath, do you fancy it?” Donna suggested with a warm smile, kissing you as an apology.

“Yeah, sounds great,” you said, relaxing your expression and your posture.

 A hot bath next to the woman you loved was certainly a good plan. Your naked bodies warmed in the water as you intertwined in a comfortable, relaxing silence.

With your head on her chest and her arms around your waist, you continued to fantasize, making your mind travel through stories and memories, memories of how you got to where you were, why you were there, next to her.

You were a simple villager in a not so simple village. The Black Gods, the Lords, Mother Miranda… These were things that made the place very different from any other. You knew it, but you didn't give it any importance, at least until you realized what it meant to have all these entities around you.

You were eight years old, you were a little and dreamer girl like any of your friends, running errands for your parents, praying and having fun. One night, when you had to give some tools to your uncle, while you were walking in the dark through the poorly lit streets, you got a scare that would change your life forever.

Miserable rat or idiot, you didn't know how to describe the man who attacked you from the shadows, demanding, under threats, that you give him all your money. You were a child, you were scared and defenseless.

You had never been so afraid, the knife the robber carried shone in the moonlight and you closed your eyes as you cried in terror. It could have been your end, or, at best, stayed in your mind as an insurmountable trauma, but it wasn't.

You never really believed in miracles, that your devotion to dark deities served any purpose, but that night, yes, that night you witnessed your mistake. Just when you gave up, cornered and with your bag of coins already at the mercy of the attacker, some blades shone next to the knife, abruptly pushing that man away from you.

A local hero? A divine intervention? No, a Lord.

The lady of the castle, Alcina Dimitrescu, finished off that robber. She didn't say anything; she simply looked at you, smiled at you and took what was left of that evil man.

Then your vision of the village changed completely. Everyone, your family, your friends, everyone feared the Lords. They saw them as a constant threat. Mother Miranda always insisted that she, as well as the four nobles, protected the village. You didn't believe it before, but you started to.

The rejection and fear that those four shadows caused you silently mutated into an admiration that became increasingly sick. The priestess was right, they protected you. They were in charge of keeping the village at peace, of freeing you from possible threats. It was impossible for you not to believe it, you had lived it.

Stopping seeing the four Lords as a threat to see them as a shield unleashed many thoughts, you even dared to write letters to the lady of the castle, thanking her for her intervention. They could be childish things, but time passed, and your devotion to the four shadows of the village didn’t diminish.

They were your saviors, your protectors, and it almost seemed like you were the only one who saw them that way. Each and every one of them had extraordinary powers, capable of chasing away anyone who dared to poke their nose into the village's affairs, or harm you. They didn't care if you were rich, poor, or who you were; to them, all of your lives were worthy of protection.

Your devotion to these protectors surpassed even rationality, fervently wishing to meet them, admire them, have a moment to talk to them, to thank them for everything they did. Already 20 years old and with a bold and extroverted character, that goal was closer than ever.

What you never imagined was falling in love with one of them, one that you saw off guard to attack with your questions and sick adoration, the lady in black, the doll maker, Donna Beneviento.

The woman in mourning, always silent and mysterious, unwittingly put herself at the mercy of your approach, at the mercy of your exaggerated words of admiration. As much as the Angie doll protested, the lady didn’t move; she simply listened to you.

Thus, with time, you came to see the beauty she hid, to hear her melodic voice speaking to you, incredulous, surprised because you, unlike the others, didn’t fear her. Love arose soon after, and without wanting to, you ended up completely in love with the lady in black, just as her with you.

Maybe she couldn't transform into a dragon, or control metal, but those trifles ceased to be important to you the moment your lips touched hers. Power and strength stopped being your fixation, Donna began to be.

Two years later, your relationship was perfect, harmonious. The fact that she was a Lord, that somehow you felt safe was something you didn't usually think about.

Donna was a strange woman, hurt by a madness no one could remedy, but she was much more than that, much more than the monster everyone talked about. You weren't exaggerating if you said that she was the love of your life.

Your body enjoyed the warmth of the water, the touch against hers, that vaporized silence filling your mind with dreams and memories. As you moved to let her lips kiss your neck, you felt a slight pain in your back, probably due to the fall.

That pain made you grimace in disgust, but it also made your mind move away from the pure love you felt for Donna, asking yourself a series of questions you had never gotten an answer to.

“Mm, Donna,” you sighed, playing with her hand under the water, breaking the calm, but speaking with a velvety, romantic tone. “Can I ask a question?”

“Sure, tesoro,” she whispered, kissing your ear and leaving her kisses for another time, giving you all her attention.

“Hey, who do you think is the most powerful of your siblings?” you asked distractedly, looking at the ceiling as you moved in the water.

“The most powerful?” Donna asked back, with a thoughtful sigh. “Honestly, I wouldn't know how to answer your question,” she sighed shortly after, looking at you out of the corner of your eye. “Why do you want to know?”

“Oh, curiosity,” you said shrugging, lying back on top of her body. “Well, Alcina can transform into a dragon…”

“It's not exactly a dragon, it's a…” the lady interrupted.

“Yes, yes, a mutation, or whatever. Dragon sounds much better than a mutation of a disgusting mold, doesn't it?” you joked, shaking your head.

She laughed too wrapping her arms around your waist, keeping you closer to her, if that was even possible.

“Let's see, Heisenberg can control metal, Moreau is a huge disgusting fish…” you murmured, counting on your fingers. “Honestly, I ask you because I couldn't tell you which one of them is more powerful.”

“Hey, tesoro, aren't you forgetting something?” she said in a mocking tone, frowning and moving your head so you would look at her.

“Mm? Oh, of course you're there too, but you're no use to me for this,” you said without thinking, causing the water to move along with her body, abruptly.

“Why not?” the lady asked with an inquisitive expression.

You rolled your eyes, turning around to face her.

“Donna, honey, you can't transform,” you said softly, calmly caressing her cheek due to her annoyed look. “I'm talking about real powers.”

“I have real powers, I'm as strong as them, even more,” Donna protested, crossing her arms, with a marked accent that betrayed her anger.

“Yes, yes... you make people hallucinate, but, my love, it's not like you're the strongest woman in the world,” you said jokingly, perhaps without too much care.

“Playing with people's minds isn't enough power? I'm telling you I'm as strong as them,” she insisted nervously, to which you caressed her face amused, biting your lip while your hand traveled along the skin of her arm, pinching it mercilessly. “Cazzo! Cosa diavolo stai facendo!?”

“You see, my love? You control minds, yes, but your body is weak, isn't it?” you mocked while she looked at you with resentment, rubbing her injured arm.

“You say I'm weak?” she asked in a brusque tone, terribly offended. “You think so?”

“No, look, Donna, you know that I love you very much, but maybe you wouldn't be the right one to face an imminent danger, right?”

“I'm stronger than you think!” she said, shouting in a very loud voice, making you back up in the tub.

“Okay, then prove it to me, make me hallucinate,” you challenged your girlfriend, approaching her in the water, suggestively crawling up to her body.

“No,” she answered coldly, putting a hand on your bare chest. “I'm not going to do it.”

“Aren’t you? Come on, say that I'm wrong,” you joked, making a gesture with your hand. “I want to see how powerful my girlfriend is.”

“No, (Y/N), I'm not going to hurt you,” she said, shaking her head and hastily going out the tub. “My powers are not a game, (Y/N). I don't care if you think they're useless.”

“Hey, I didn't say that,” you said, reaching out your hand to take hers while she picked up a towel, covering herself with it. “Donna, don't be mad, come here so I can apologize.”

“I have to make dinner,” she said, leaving the bathroom and you, in the bathtub, sighed regretfully.

“But what did I say?” you murmured, scratching the back of your neck and shrugging. “Oh, I must learn to keep my mouth shut…”

Luckily, the tension you caused dissipated over time and the day could end as usual. You had absolutely nothing against the lady, you didn't doubt her powers, in fact, you knew that, whatever she did, no one had dared to enter her property for years, apart from you, of course.

Okay, maybe the lady in black wasn't the strong and invincible Lord you admired, but that wasn't a reason to stop loving her. Strength was not your main goal, especially when you were able to truly meet Donna, when you saw her deformed but amazing beauty, when her whispers, her caresses, made all the hair on your body stand up.

You didn't bring up the subject again, and the next day started like any other, except that, that morning, you woke up with only one goal. You still had that sinister story of the labyrinths in your head, and you dedicated your always lonely morning to looking for some information around the house.

Your thirst for adventure was insatiable, even wandering alone through the halls of the mansion was an epic feat for you. Donna never minded you rummaging through her stuff, through her memories, as long as you did it with respect. And so you did, dusting off old books you barely understood.

While you were searching, you came across an old notebook that caught your attention, especially because of what was written in it: Fabrizio Beneviento (1878).

It looked like an old diary; a notebook as old as time, with its yellowed, delicate pages that seemed to want to fall apart among your fingers. Logically, it was the property of an ancestor of the lady in black, and the date coincided with the creation of the labyrinths. Your favorite novels were those about knights, but you didn't dislike detective stories at all.

“Oh, I have to ask Donna to teach me Italian, I don't understand anything,” you said with a confused grimace, trying to decipher what those old pages said.

After looking at those incomprehensible sentences in bewilderment, you finally found something, a name that you expected to read: Norshteyn.

“Bingo,” you said satisfied, marking the page and walking towards the workshop, where Donna was working, as always, on her dolls.

“Hey, silly!” Angie shouted, swinging her legs on a table while the lady worked, distracted by the shouts and shaking her head at you.

“Angie…” Donna murmured, dropping a paintbrush with a grimace of disgust. “You almost ruined my work.”

“Tell her, she interrupted you,” the doll said, pointing at you.

The lady smiled, shaking her head as you approached and gave her a quick kiss in greeting.

“Are you bored, tesoro?” she asked softly, smoothing your hair.

“No, not exactly,” you said triumphantly, holding up the notebook. “Look what I found. I think it belongs to a relative of yours… Fabrizio Beneviento.”

“Wow,” she sighed, studying the notebook. “Yes, he was my ancestor, what’s this about?”

“Look, in this part it talks about the labyrinths of that Norshteyn guy. It might say where the key is,” you said, pointing at the page. “But… I don’t understand what it says. Would my wonderful girlfriend be so kind as to translate it for me?”

Donna laughed, nodding with a slight blush on her cheek, looking down at the text.

“Let’s see…” she sighed, picking up the book. “There’s something about that man that makes me shudder, no matter how kind he was when he built that chest,” she began to read.

“I have a bad feeling about him. Maybe opening it is a bad idea, my legs shake every time I get close to that damn model. I have no way of knowing what evil powers will be unleashed if I let that key slide down the rails. I have enough problems already, it would be best to hide it, and I have the perfect place, under the tree in the nearby cabin.”

“Wow… is that what it says?” you asked expectantly.

“Uh-huh,” the lady said, turning the pages with curiosity.

“Great, great, we have to go to the cabin to look for the key,” you said excitedly, rubbing your hands. “Treasure, here I go…”

“Hey, stop, (Y/N), do you intend to go now? The sky is very dark, I fear a storm is approaching,” Donna said, closing the notebook and tilting her head.

“W-Well, then we better hurry up,” you said jumping. “Come on, Donna, let’s go…”

“Do I have to go with you?” the brunette asked, frowning and looking away at her dolls. “(Y/N), I'm working on…”

“Yes, yes… your dolls, I know,” you said looking up and putting your hands on her shoulders. “It'll just be a moment, besides we already know where it is.”

“No,” she said with a cold look, turning around and picking up the brush again.

“Donna…” you sighed disappointedly, waving your hands. “Don't be boring, come on, let's go…”

“Why don't you go by yourself?” she asked, annoyed by your insistence and the distraction you caused in her greatest passion.

“I…” you stammered, embarrassed.

No, you weren't a coward but… well, walking through that sinister forest, through that place in ruins… yes, it made you feel like a coward, but you weren't, really, you weren't…

“It's just that…” you whispered, dragging out your words. “I don't like walking alone through the forest. I'd rather you came with me, just in case.”

“Mm,” Donna murmured, dropping the brush again and crossing her arms. “I repeat the question, tesoro: why do you want me to go with you? I'm weak, remember?” she said, spitting out her words, telling you she hadn't forgotten the conversation from the day before.

“Oh, come on, I didn't mean it,” you said with a growl. “I'd feel safer if you were with me, because you could protect me, right?” you said, changing your tone from pleading to a slightly defiant one.

The lady in black abruptly stood up from her chair, clenching her fists on either side of her hips.

“Do you doubt that I can protect you?” she hissed with a dark look, one that betrayed that you had made an annoying insinuation.

“Mm, no,” you said, looking at your nails with disinterest. “But it would be a good occasion to prove it, don’t you think? Imagine if a lycan sneaks onto the grounds, or if I trip and fall and…”

“Ugh, basta. Va bene, va bene…” the doll maker growled, kicking the ground in a childish manner. “I’ll accompany you so you shut that big mouth, but not now, I’m busy. We’ll go this afternoon.”

“Mm, Donna,” you said with a triumphant smile, throwing yourself into her arms. “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

“Lasciami, you always do whatever you want with me, tesoro,” she said with an amused smile, fighting against your tireless kisses.

“You're the best,” you whispered, giving her one last kiss on the cheek. “I'll leave you alone,” you said with a sweet voice walking out of the workshop.

“Finally!” the doll squealed.

“Angie…”

The adventure would have to wait, but only for a few hours. Donna kept her promise, walking with you through the forest again. The lady was right, the impending storm could even be smelled, but that didn't matter to you.

You dug in the indicated place, finally finding your prize, a ball decorated with the crest of the Beneviento family, the key that opened that mysterious labyrinth.

“I found it, look, it's cool,” you said, walking towards the lady, who was waiting impatiently, with her arms crossed.

“Mm, it's beautiful,” she said, studying the ball curiously, running her fingers over the engraving.

“Yeah, and now... let's play labyrinths and...” you said, approaching the shed triumphantly.

“Watch out for the ghost!” Angie shouted, which, along with a terrifying thunder that shook your insides, caused you to lose your balance with a cowardly scream.

“Shit!” you yelled, causing the ball to fall to the ground.

You bent down to pick it up, but at that moment a drop of ice-cold water fell on the tip of your nose, forcing you to look up.

“Does it have to be now?” you protested angrily, looking at the model out of the corner of your eye as Donna ran beside you. “Come on.”

“Let’s go home, tesoro, before we end up soaked,” she said, dragging you back to the mansion. “(Y/N)…”

“Jeez…” you sighed in disappointment, but at that moment, another thunderclap made you jump on the ground. “Uh… okay, good idea.”

Luckily the storm didn't reach you.

“Almost,” you sighed, closing the door of the mansion, holding the ball tightly. “Don't think you've beaten me, stupid ball… wait until tomorrow,” you hissed, putting it in your pocket.

“I better get dinner ready,” Donna murmured, watching the rain that was beginning to fall without remedy, making the sunset even darker.

“Wait, wait,” you said hurriedly, running next to her. “I'll go with you, so I can keep you company.”

“Do you want to see me cook?” she asked, letting your hands hug her waist.

You blushed and nodded effusively, kissing her slowly.

“Yes, I want to compensate you for having accompanied me,” you whispered, getting closer.

“I can think of better ways to do it. But it's fine for now,” Donna purred, tugging erotically at your lower lip and pulling away in an almost painful way.

After all, it was a fun afternoon. The two of you cooked together, laughed, kissed, almost let yourself be carried away by passion... Nothing could go wrong that night, nothing.

“I'll set the table,” you said, exiting the elevator with the lady.

She smiled in response, walking beside you towards the living room.

You hummed as you placed the cutlery in its place, glancing sideways at the open door to the hall. You turned your head without noticing a detail, and did so again abruptly when you noticed something was wrong. The entrance door was banging due to the wind, it was open.

“Um, Donna, did you open the door?” you asked with a frown, getting closer to the entrance.

“No, didn't you close it?” the lady asked, carefully correcting the places of the cutlery so everything looked perfect.

“Y-Yes,” you said nervous, confused, remembering that, indeed, you closed it. “I'm completely sure that I closed it.”

“Mm, it must have been the wind,” Donna commented.

“Anyway, I'm going to close it,” you finally sighed, approaching the entrance.

Just as you crossed the door to the hall, you felt a strong grip on your body, hands that grabbed you tightly and an arm around your neck. In front of you was what looked like a dagger, a knife, shining in the light of the mansion.

“Ah!” you screamed, struggling with that strength, with that arm that surrounded you.

“Shh, quiet,” a male voice threatened in your ear. “Walk.”

He looked like a man from the village because of his clothes, but his furious breathing told you that he was dangerous. Slowly, trapped like a hostage, you returned to the living room, trying to scream, with your mouth covered by the hand with the knife.

With a strong movement of your body, you managed to free yourself from his hand, and finally, scream.

“Donna!” you screamed, drawing the attention of the lady in black, who immediately turned around, opening her eye wide when she saw the scene. “Donn…” you couldn't scream again, as the edge of the knife dug into your throat.

“Silence,” that man said, wet from the rain, roaring like a beast eager for blood. “Don't move, you weirdo,” he said to Donna, you suspected with a sinister smile.

The lady didn't move an inch. She just stared at the aggressor, without saying a single word, coldly.

“That's it, very good,” he hissed satisfied, pulling you to expose your throat even more. “Good girl.”

“Donna, please…” you whispered pleadingly when you saw your girlfriend's calm, a calm that began to make you nervous. “Donna…”

“Shh, shut up,” the man demanded, pressing the knife harder into your skin. “Cooperate and I won't do anything to you, little bird… I haven't come for you, but for her.”

“Dare to do something to my Donna's girlfriend, you bastard!” Angie threatened, immediately reassured by a fleeting glance from the lady.

“Oh, is she your girlfriend?” the attacker sang. “You have good taste, I admit it, a shame it's your last day with her.”

“Let me go!” you shrieked, trying to free yourself from the grip.

“You think you're very important, don't you? You and that gang of monsters,” the man said, ignoring your protests.

Donna raised her chin, but once again, she remained motionless.

“You've been desecrating this village with your lies and demonic blasphemies, but it's over. I won't allow it, I'll finish you off. I advise you to behave yourself, Beneviento, or else I'll hurt this beauty, what do you say? Will you let me finish you off?”

“Donna, for the Gods' sake, help me,” you said angrily, frustrated.

“You're not going to do anything to the girl,” the brunette finally said, walking a step closer to you.

“How bold for a nutcase like you,” he mocked, making you feel a stab of pain in your throat as you felt the knife graze your skin. “Don't take another step, monster, or the girl dies.”

“The girl won't die,” Donna said, getting a little closer, darkening her gaze and raising a hand towards you. “You will.”

“You wanted it…” the man hissed, suddenly loosening his grip. “What? What?!” he shrieked as he looked at his own hand.

Taking advantage of that moment, you broke free with a push, running into the arms of your beloved.

“Tutto bene, (Y/N)?” Donna asked in a whisper, holding you against her chest.

You nodded on the verge of panic, not letting the lady's body go.

“No, no…” the man murmured, scratching his skin with the knife, trying to get rid of something. “Take it off!”

“Don't look,” Donna told you, turning your head towards her clothes, holding you tightly against her as she raised her hand again.

“You can't!” he shrieked, desperate, along with a horrible sound of something breaking, it sounded like bones.

You heard something fall to the wooden floor, the knife. Curious and nervous, you shifted to observe, though you wished you hadn't.

The attacker's arm was twisted, completely out of place, surely broken.

“No, no! Don't make me do this!” he pleaded, falling to the floor on his knees, while his good hand hit it, twisting until that horrible crunch attacked your ears again. “Ah, Gods, no! Forgive me, my lady! No, please!”

“You threatened (Y/N), my family,” the lady whispered, with a tone that gave chills. “You have to pay for it.”

“No, no!” he screamed, desperate, involuntarily hitting his head against the wood. “No, take it away from me! They're going to eat my brain! No, out, out!”

“Do you want me to stop?” the lady asked, while hugging you with a sinister smile.

The man, terribly wounded, stood up fighting against invisible enemies, barely able to move, throwing a chair in front of him.

“Leave me alone, damn it! You won't take me alive!” he screamed for the last time, letting himself fall backwards, hitting his neck on the chair with a last terrible crunch, ceasing to scream, to exist.

“It's over, (Y/N),” the lady said, hugging your face while you squeezed your eyes shut tightly. “That's it, tesoro... shh...”

“D-Donna, he was going to kill me, he was going to...” you said sobbing in fear, with the lady in black controlling your tremors as best she could.

You turned your head to look at your attacker, with his neck dislocated in the chair, with a look of terror that you would dream about for several nights.

“H-He's… dead,” you murmured scared. “He's dead,” you repeated nervously, shaking your head.

“No, tesoro, don't look, look at me, come on,” Donna said, guiding your gaze away from the corpse. “(Y/N)…”

“D-Donna…” you sobbed again, breathing heavily, in shock and disobeying the lady's orders, turning your head again and growling in rage. “You son of a bitch!” you screamed, breaking free from your girlfriend's grip and walking towards the body, kicking it in a crazy way. “Bastard!”

“Hey, hey, tesoro, stop, please,” the lady said, grabbing you to get you away from the attacker, having to fight with your kicks. “Enough, it's over, he won't hurt you anymore.”

“Donna, he was going to kill me,” you cried, in a terrible panic attack, clinging to the Lord’s clothes while soaking them with your tears. “He was going to kill me…”

She sighed and kissed your head while still hugging you, rocking your body in a comforting way.

“Don't cry,” Donna whispered. “Don't cry, please…”

“He was going to kill me,” you repeated, unable to say anything else until you regained some consciousness, enough to realize what had happened. “He was going to kill me and now… now he's dead,” you gasped, opening your eyes wide and moving away from her embrace. “He's dead… You, you killed him, you killed that man,” you stammered pointing at the lady, who shook her head.

“Tesoro, I had to do it, he was going to hurt you,” she excused herself, trying to get you closer to her again, something that, due to shock and nerves, you rejected with a step back.

“Donna, you killed a person,” you repeated passing a hand over your forehead.

“I was protecting you, don't you understand? I… Oh, cazzo… Listen to me, amore mio… I didn't want to…”

“You tortured him and then you killed him, Donna,” you said nervously, shaking your head. “Gods…”

“What did you want me to do? He had a knife at your damn throat!” she shrieked, with a crazy look. “I… I-I'm, sorry, I… per favore, tesoro, don't be afraid of me. I promise I'm not a monster, please…”

“No, Donna,” you said in a calmer tone, with the panic fading from your mind and body. “I'm not afraid of you, I… Donna, my love, you saved me. Oh, Donna,” you sighed, running back to her side, hugging her tightly.

“(Y/N)…”

“Donna, my love, thank you so much, thank you for saving me,” you sobbed, burying your face in her dress. “You saved me…”

“Calm down, stop crying, (Y/N),” the lady said, putting a hand on your shoulder and looking at you closely. “Oh, you have a wound on your neck…” she sighed, staining her finger with your blood. “Come, sit down, I… will make some calls to clean this up and then I will heal you, okay? Just, just relax.”

You let yourself be guided by her and obeyed, giving one last look to the lifeless attacker, a look devoid of fear, full of hate. He got what he deserved, you were convinced.

Soon after, Heisenberg appeared to clean up the mess, and finally, with your nerves completely calm, you could breathe and think coldly about everything that had happened. You were completely wrong about Donna. She seemed the weakest of the four, but she wasn't, now you knew.

Mind control, tormenting someone to the point of forcing them to end their life, was perhaps not the physical strength and power you admired, but it was, without a doubt, the most dangerous skill. Isolated from the world around you, you fantasized about what had happened, imagining Donna as one of those knights who rescued damsels in distress, as your savior, the woman who would always protect you, always.

That childish thought at first turned into something more due to euphoria, something you weren't sure you could control.

“It's nothing serious, just a scratch,” the lady murmured as she passed a cotton ball over your wound, in a silent moment, warm in a certain way. “Are you feeling better?”

“Yes,” you said, taking a breath as you endured that sting. “Better than ever.”

“Mm, you must be in shock,” she commented, caressing your cheek. “Ascoltami, (Y/N), you have to understand that I did it for you, to save you. If I lost you… I don’t know what would become of me, do you understand?”

“Yes, I understand,” you said with a smile that made the brunette frown and held your face a tighter.

“You understand… fine,” Donna sighed, letting your face go and finishing healing your wound. “I would understand that you were afraid of me, maybe I would prefer that you continue thinking that I am weak,” she whispered amused, kissing your forehead affectionately.

“I have never really thought that way,” you said due to the sudden heat of your body. “Besides, I don’t need a huge monster to protect me, with you it is more than enough. I’m safe with you, right?”

“Yes, of course you are. I will always protect you, no matter what,” she whispered, getting dangerously close to your lips, leaving them at the mercy of yours, which were quick to take advantage of the situation and kiss them deeply.

“Mm,” you murmured at the lady's confused attitude towards your kisses, but without giving her much time to react. “So... are you like my savior knight?”

“Do I look like a knight to you?” she joked, playing along, returning those increasingly wet kisses.

“Mm, no, I would never do this to a knight,” you purred, leaving her lips aside, kissing her neck as you pushed her against the couch, climbing up her hips.

“(Y/N), what are you doing?” she asked at your sudden attack of lust, but not resisting at all. “I think you should rest.”

“No, no, Donna... a damsel in distress should be grateful, don't you think?” you whispered in her ear, biting her lobe, tearing a gasp from her lips as your hand ran over her chest, passively playing with the buttons of her dress.

“No, I… I'm altruistic, I just do it for love,” she said, her words clumsy, with a nervous smile at your touch, your wet kisses on her skin, the subtle sway of your hips.

“Then you will receive love,” you hissed, capturing her lips to silence her reluctance, leaving her completely still, leaving your savior without any chance of saving herself.

The kisses echoed off the walls, the euphoria drove you crazy, making you much more mischievous, fighting against her tongue in a fair battle while her hands delighted in your skin, slipping through the slits of your dress, squeezing, scratching, possessing…

“Mm, Donna,” you said, looking at the confused but visibly nervous lady, with her skin burning under the subtle touch of your lips, under the soft caresses of your fingertips on her neck. “My lady, allow me to kneel…”

You whispered in her ear, getting up to carry out your threat, letting your knees rest on the wooden floor as your hands became vines on her legs, under her dress, making her tremble.

“(Y/N), it's not the time, I…” she said, without moving away from the poison ivy that spread across her skin, those stinging leaves that dug into her flesh as they climbed helplessly, as they pulled up the black fabric to keep it out of your sight.

Ignoring those weak complaints, you reached her thighs, locking your eyes on hers, looking for a cowardly and silent approval, the trembling of her body, a subtle moan when your hand ran over her telltale wetness through the underwear.

“Cazzo…” she cursed, looking away, embarrassed, shy as always, but excited as never.

A sinister, menacing smile spread across your face as your lips distracted the doll maker, running over the places marked by your nails, kissing, tasting her warm skin.

Your hands, knowing that Donna was too busy with the pleasure your kisses gave her, the tickling your lips did to her skin, took advantage of that confusion, those pleasurable moans that came out of her mouth, to pull at the edges of the garment that covered her shame, sliding it elegantly down her legs, which didn’t resist.

“(Y/N)…” the lady moaned when she noticed you were getting closer, that your kisses and your body were moving towards her. “Gods…”

Your hands played their role well, slightly separating the brunette's legs while grabbing her flesh, while your mouth salivated at the sight of her shiny wetness in front of you, with her arousal clouding all your senses.

You didn't want to waste time, and you immersed yourself in her, kissing and savoring her essence in a delicate way, adoring her flavor, her skin, the moisture that permeated your impatient lips.

“Mm, delicious, Donna,” you moaned sensually, running your tongue through her folds, making her shudder, her hands going wild, tangling in your hair, holding you on her body. “Do you want me to stop?”

“No,” she said with a voice broken by pleasure, closing her eye from the embarrassment of the situation, from the carefully studied movements of your lips on hers.

Donna moaned, writhing when the kisses attacked her clit, her most sensitive area, licking, sucking, moving in circles like a slow and wet dance, a delicate and cautious dance that drew from her lips the most beautiful melodies you had ever heard.

Her moans stopped being harmonious, becoming a kind of claim, a demand for you to increase your speed, to be constant and never abandon her. That was always Donna's greatest fear, that you would abandon her, no matter in what sense.

She was your savior, your protector, your refuge, your inspiration, she was everything to you and you to her.

How could she not protect her most precious possession? She would do it fiercely, she would always do it, because she loved you. Thinking about that protection only gave you more pleasure. It tempted you to stimulate yourself, to be selfish, but you were always strong against impulses.

Your kisses, the caresses of your tongue, the union of your fingers to that wet gratitude were too much for you, but they were also a reward, an act of love, of promises that would always be fulfilled, of passion, of lust, of madness, of moans and supplications… Donna and you, you and Donna, Lord and villager, knight and damsel, love and lust.

“Per, per favore… don’t stop now,” the lady said, panting nervously when you dared to enter, when your fingers slid along her walls while your tongue was unable to speak, being too busy with her taste, with her movements, with the beauty of her trembling body. “Sto per venire…”

“Oh, my love…” you sighed, laughing tenderly, granting your savior the gift of release, curling inside her, feeling her body demand your presence, squeezing you without wanting to let you go.

Donna screamed and you did too against her skin. Her body moved uncomfortably from the waves of pleasure and the moisture was already part of your mouth. Her arousal slipped from your lips, her movements stimulated your own lust, making you moan in unison.

“Donna…” you said with a kind look, leaning on her knees as she recovered from her well-deserved orgasm. “You will always protect me, right?”

“Always…”

[greatpoetrychopshop]

About DA:TV ending

My thoughts on the veilguard ending, which might be not in line with most people think of it, in particular on the final scene (but I would very much like your opinion and point of view in replies).

I finished the game yesterday and I didn't stop thinking about the implications of the last Solavellan scene, asking myself many questions and the more I think about it, the less I am happy with the fate of the ship.

I do believe that the Solavellan ending is not as happy as many people thought it would be. To be honest, I think Solavellan's fate is particularly sad, awful. I did not intend to express my opinion about it but I am so troubled by it that I need to write it down.

Let's talk about the thing I liked first; I really loved the fact that Mythal decided to "free Solas from his duties" toward her. It implies that from the very moment Solas took a physical body, he was torn between its nature turned to Wisdom and his proud side growing from his actions dictated by Mythal, showing that the many mistakes he had done are as much Mythal's fault than his, which, in my opinion, calls for a fate made of redemption, and hope in a future where he could finally choose his destiny. As a fan of the Dragon Age saga, from the very beginning we know that forcing a spirit doing things against its nature is a terrible thing, and Solas, as any spirit we saw having the same fate in the franchise, deserves our compassion and his friends forgiveness.

However, what is his fate when he is convinced to make peace with his past mistakes? Going back to the prison (this has been confirmed by Weekes on their social media account BlueSky), and linking his destiny with the Veil and protect it as much as he can. And I insist on it, it's a PRISON, so it is very much implied that he is PUNISHED for his past actions.

Are we talking about the same prison Rook has been stuck ? This place of horrible emptiness and despair, cut from the rest of the world and the Fade itself, the Fade he loves so much ?

That means that Lavellan will live with him yes, but a Lavellan cut from her roots, her family, her Dalish clan, her friends she made while running the Inquisition ?

I don't think this is a deserved fate for any of them.

There is as well the argument that an immortal being must be linked to the Veil for it to not collapse, that feels like a last minute narrative twist to force the ending toward a certain direction, and justifying (again) that Solas cannot choose his fate.

Solas is now bound to the Veil by blood, and the implications of this are SO HUGE, that means that he has now new duties that falls upon him (after spending millenias having duties toward Mythal), after deserving having his own destiny in hand. That means as well he is FORCED to remain alive in order to maintain the Veil and avoid a new cataclysm that would destroy the world.

And what does that mean for both Solas and Lavellan? He is condemned to live forever, again, not choosing his fate, and see Lavellan die, for she is mortal. And THIS, for me, is the coup de grace.

Solas wanted two things : having a simpler life just like the one he had while helping the Inquisition, and not dying alone. Both of them are not resolved, for there is no chance that he could have a simpler life with his life now bound to the Veil, and being left alone in the world as ages pass…

I cannot see it as a good ending for them and I cannot imagine anyone thinking this knowing all those facts.

There could have been such better ending for them, I had that idea that maybe Solas could have known the same fate similar to what Cole had, meaning that there was a possibility for him to become more human, even if its mindset and personality would have been a little altered.

An Ancien immortal Elven, choosing to become mortal, and finally making its own choices with his lover at his side with a death he could have chosen. It would have made a wonderful echo to the discussion Varric and Solas while trying to help Cole during his personal quest, and a last hommage to the character of Varric himself that remain central to the story of Veilguard itself…

I know that every Dragon Age game has its story with a certain bittersweet ending, but what I feel for the Solavellan ship is not bittersweet, it's unfairness, after everything we kown of this two wonderful characters…

As I am writing down right now, I feel so enraged by this ending and non said things about it, leaving us with questions calling only, if we apply logic, for dreadfull answers.

For my part, I will let the Veilguard behind me (even though there are some parts that I enjoyed anyway) go back to DA:I in some time and make my own headcanon for the Solavellan ship, far from the one Bioware decided, unless there is a possibility for both of them in the future to have a better resolution.

Anyway please don't hesitate to comment to tell me what is your opinion about it, if you don't agree I'm very interested.

[reel-fear]

Genuinely so curious who Mike thinks is gonna be buying The Cage or the new DCTL GN bc with the way he tweets as far as he's concerned, it's not gonna be:

The queer people he has actively admitted he will never show any representation of in the games.

2. The POC he has actively fought against representing in his franchise. [Who he also mocked for thinking they would be represented in his franchise]

3. The Bendy fandom which has always been concerned with topics of diversity esp in the sense of queer people since its creation. Who he has responded to really poorly esp in regards to the GN.

4. The fans who critique him. [He blocked me for doing so lol]

5. His fans in general who he tweets about like this currently. [He's being vague about why people were mad at him or sent him 'nasty messages' because if you actually looked into why you'd see he was in the wrong. Either way, a very hateful way to speak abt ur own fanbase.]

Reminder while Mike is trash talking his fans he has always treated them rather poorly. The fans who won the fanart contest for Chapter 5 never got their posters actually in game due to it being rushed. Not only was chapter 5 a big slap to the face story wise, but it was literally so rushed he couldn't be bothered to add in the art his fans gave him for his game FOR FREE. [Meatly blames this on a crazy timeline, reminder him and Mike are the literal ceos of this company. The proposal of future updates here is also pretty cruel considering Mike nowadays happily admits he corrupted Chapter 5's source code and therefore literally can't update it At All currently. Because he is a moron]

At least they got to be in Boris and the dark survival, and by that I mean that was the Only game they got to be in so far, isn't that just treating your fans like you love them? Shoving their hard work into a spin off game almost nobody has played or addresses much. [Hell, who knows if with the Lone Wolf rebrand they'll even stay there. In which case they'll be in None of the games, only in the credits of BATIM]

6. The Bendy fans who just generally disagree with him on stuff. Like the new ink demon design where there is literally a public poll showing people generally prefer the old one.

7. The Bendy fans who can see he is actively lying to them. To their fucking faces.

He says this has always been the case, but screenshots and links to tweets regarding the books being canon prove it was not. Does he really think bendy fans are stupid or something? [Unless he's admitting here he lied to Kress when he told her the books were canon which sounds worse!]

8. Anyone who doesn't like the idea of giving money to a guy who laid off tons of employees then afterwards thought it was a great idea to express his anti-union views! Also brag about how good of an employer he was, according to his employees, he was not!

So in summary; Mike is an awful person who has not learned anything from the awful things he did. I will not be purchasing The Cage because, combined with this and his absolute refusal to take any kind of critique or see any differing interpretation of his franchise, I have no reason to think my problems with the franchise will ever be addressed or fixed. I probably will pirate The Cage along with any future Bendy Products [Including the movie] and will do my best to avoid giving it any kind of monetary support. Unless this changes any time soon, I can't see myself making anymore positive Bendy posts soon.

Mike has just managed to make it so hard to speak positively or optimistically of this franchise when he's so willing to broadcast how little he cares about it or its fans. I'm at the point where I refuse to pull any of my punches with my problems with it. What's the point of trying to play nice with my critique when either way the people creating it don't care?

So with this post, I want to invite anyone who feels similarly about the franchise to tell me, make a post or send an ask talking about how all of this makes you feel. It may not change how things are, but genuinely seeing other people share my feelings of anger makes me feel better. It feels nice to see when other people share our same concerns and worries. I'd also love to know if anyone else thinks they'll be avoiding purchasing Bendy products over this.

I'm not forcing anyone to participate in it nor trying to say anyone who doesn't supports mike but genuinely maybe if we can collectively decide to boycott things like the movie, graphic novel and The Cage... It might at least make the bendy devs acknowledge how much they have destroyed their own fandom's faith and trust in them.

The way Mike tweets about his actions like he had no control over why people were mad at him at least proves to me he takes NONE of it back nor regrets it. If you didn't know about his actions and only went off his tweets, you would be led to believe Mike has been needlessly picked apart by fans over things he couldn't control [or in his own words, had his words twisted and taken out of context]. That is not how you speak about your actions if you have actually learned better from them.

anyway, that has been my bendy dev callout post. This is an open invitation to anyone feeling similarly upset about the way the franchise is going to talk about it. It's genuinely nice to see how people feel about this and the more we talk about the more it's likely the bendy devs are forced to address our concerns. I don't think they will but hey, that's why I'm not gonna support them with my money anymore nor am I gonna be nice to them in any content I make critiquing Bendy. I mean I'm also basically making this post just in case anyone asks me Why I feel this way towards to bendy devs/as a way to respond to anyone who thinks I am too harsh in my critique in the future.

As always, it seems the best part of Bendy isn't actually anything about canon but about what the fan's are creating with the ideas Bendy failed to do anything interesting with.

Also the books, the books slap.

[dykedvonte]

wanted to say I appreciate your nuanced takes on MW and especially Curly. i don't get the claim that the fandom is full of Curly apologists when majority (esp yt and tiktok) say he's worse than Jimmy. Yes there's commentary about bro culture defending people, he def messed up in trying to placate Jimmy (tbh "we'll fix this" sounded more like trying to keep someone prone to outbursts like Jim calm and not hurt Anya/himself) but I don't think he did nothing to help Anya, since she continued to confide in him and he had less than a week to resolve it before the crash (I also don't get everyone saying he knew for ages when it seems like Anya told him that same week). I get Jimmy's a pos but saying stuff like Curly should've known he'd crash the ship or that Jim had a criminal record he ignored, reducing them to obviously horrible villain and willfully ignorant sidekick feels like a disservice to the game. If your best friend turned out to be horrible, what would you do in a confined space in the span of a few days to respond? I'd say some of the horror comes from trying to do good but ultimately failing, Curly's state after the crash is meant to be tragic horror not revenge/punishment

Thank you and this is what I want to get across.

A lot of information we have to supplement when it comes to how long things have been happening on this current ship. I think people try to add on to the horror and negligence by making things more obvious so it can feel like it was easier to avoid when, true to life, its not. Jimmy clearly didn't deserve or appreciate what Curly did for him in getting him the job, but do you think if Jimmy was that big of a menace on Earth he would've given him a position where he could have that level of power over people's lives? There's something in the fact he specifically chose to pick a position so close to himself where he could watch Jimmy.

I hate the bro code argument because that is a whole can of worms people really don't get. That sort of mentality is born from the general respect and preference of male matter over female ones. Curly is clearly not that guy, he is absent minded about the issue and inadvertently dismissive but he clearly believes Anya, he just can't understand what she's going through. It's an onslaught of information that no one really reacts right to. Additonally, the entire discussion of her assualt plays to heavy into the idea that there is fault outside of the perpertratior when it comes to SA. It's too close if she only did this or if Curly had protected her better but the fact of the matter is Jimmy did what he did. He did it before any of the conversations with Anya about it and it's why her behavior seemed to change so drastically in those last two days.

He has other conflicting thought and while his role as a Captain should've taken over, people act like it's not a very human thing to have such a toxic presence cloud your judgement. It is never easy to separate friend from coworker once that connection is formed, you want to help them, especially if they were friend first and for a long while like in this case. It's not right, but people act like it would be easy when the game clearly points out that no choice is easy to make, especially when you have to make it for more than one person. You have the weigh the consequences, look at all the options and make a plan. People can headcanon and decide how long things where happening, but if we look at what we were presented through the characters eyes, the only person given time to do that was Jimmy.

He waited two months after the crash to appoint himself Captain. Every time a problem was brought up he immediately took action and refused to sit on it and find a better solution. I think it's important to look at the warped way Jimmy takes initiative where Curly didn't as it works as a good contrast of why you don't just run in to "fix" things. The quickest and easiest option may not be the safest or most beneficial. I think some thoughts on the game suffer from the black and white thinking the game doesn't operate on along with us being voyeurs. We see what exactly led to what but the characters don't. They don't have the hindsight and foresight we do and even ours is scrambled by the non-linear story telling.

Like it's hard to talk abuou those grey zones without sounding like an apologist because you're explaining why taking responsibility isn't easy. It's not and it's weird to act like it would be in a scenerio that led up to the events of the game knowing what we know. We see all these characters in such isolated moments with various things before, in between, after and even during we aren't privy too. The idea that Jimmy is worse than Curly heavily banks on the words Jimmy was saying to Jimmy before he crashed the ship. That whatever happened on the ship was his responsibility to bare, which is true due to his position. But, are they not still not responsible for taking the actions Curly then must bare?

Like i feel like people think that these are situation that become easier with age or when you are in a postion of authority and they aren't. You don't lose your biases or gain some sudden knowledge that makes it easier. It just becomes more tiring as you keep dealing with it. I would be first in line to say Curly fucked up and should've done more but the idea he knew how bad it could get or he really saw the worst in the people around him and ignored it pretty much ignores a huge aspect of his character and the game.

[yonemurishiroku]

I just need ONE fanfic with Percy falling in love with Nico after the latter has moved on from his crush. Is that too much to ask?

[lightningfilledsaber]

I'm so fucking sick of my brain

[hazeism]

hi!! wanted to ask if you have any favorite books, either that you've read recently or of all time. Your prose is insane and I need to broaden my own vocabulary so if you have any book recs, fiction or nonfiction, I'd love to know :')

Hii :D ! ahaha, what a well-timed question; lately I've become the kind of guy who just really wants to talk about what people are reading, or are planning to read, and responding in kind, so thanks for giving me an opportunity to indulge that, haha. What a wicked invention the printing press was!!! (Also--thank you!! I'm glad my prose is to your taste. I'm happy !💕)

If you don't mind, I'll put a cut on this right away, because I know I'm very talkative, but let me put a TLDR above for all the novels/authors I mention here. Disclaimer also that I am kind of a dunce (I think you know this) so I like silly shit a lot of times . please be nice to me adfhbjkdg. :D

(No nonfiction also because I'm a frivolous and unworldly little sprite or something but if you want straight philosophy [which counts] come back and I'll do my Top Ten Epic Platonic Dialogues Compilation for you .)

TLDR: Read any UKLG you get your hands on, Cain by Jose Saramago, or any Saramago (though maybe not Skylight, which is not a good introduction to Saramago), very much enjoyed Sartre's The Age of Reason recently, Shadow & Claw or The Fifth Head of Cerberus by Gene Wolfe. If you feel like it, come off anon and tell me what you like, so I can give more tailored recommendations!!

Now if you're asking for favorites, like just the particular and arbitrary objects of my partiality, that stir my stupid little heart, the true answer is probably UKLG's The Farthest Shore, just because it is very special to me. I can't, of course, in good conscience, recommend the third novel of a six-novel fantasy series to someone (but of course read Le Guin, everyone should be reading Le Guin, it's dire for universal soteriology that we all read Le Guin; You'll probably get told to start with Left Hand of Darkness, and that's pretty solid. I liked The Lathe of Heaven as well. And if you read any Le Guin it doesn't hurt to pick up a copy of the Tao. I love the Tao man.)

Some friendlier recommendations, though:

José Saramago is someone I really consider peerless; There's no way to pick up a Saramago and not know who's written it. Cain is a bit drier, a bit more abrasive (almost accusatory, in that particular way you'll find in a Buddhist parable) and bleak than some other Saramagos, but it's one I like (perhaps for the trite reason that I like bucolic atmospheres and Classical antiquity as a setting) so it's the one I'll put forward.

Uhh, I've also been enjoying Sartre's Roads to Freedom lately, starting with The Age Of Reason. I'm partway through the second novel and umm... despite all the other things you could say about Sartre, lmfao, let it not be said that he is not a serious literary force. Serious is maybe the only word for it. Dire, too. I keep a commonplace book, so usually I take excerpts, but this was the first time in memory that I felt compelled to commit entire pages, ahah (I just took pictures though, fuck copying all that).

If you're itching for esoteric language, Shadow of the Torturer (as usually collected with Claw of the Conciliator in a single omnibus edition titled Shadow & Claw; the first of the give-or-take five volume Urth series) by Gene Wolfe will scratch you BLOODY. If you're particularly fussy, you might be irritated by your compulsion to Google, but I find it really makes the experience when you type in a word and the only results are "what the fuck did Gene Wolfe mean by this?" hahaha; Honestly, though, those kinds of complaints are borne from a lack of immersion, but you'll notice pretty quickly that the verbiage is a pretty crucial vehicle OF the immersion.

It may or may not become a commitment, though, if you like Urth enough to want to read through, so if you want Wolfe without the strings--though less of the exciting vocabulary, which is pretty necessarily constrained to Urth--I'd really highly recommend The Fifth Head of Cerberus (the novella OR the novel, I mean the former is volumized in the latter so just start it and if you feel like stopping then stop, haha). Mr. Terminal E is incredible but I scrape enough time out of my daily life to gush about his crazy literary density so I won't do it again here (you should ask my coworker, lmfao, who one time went "stop, hold on, hold on." because my face started getting really red while I was explaining to him some Wolfean gesture). If you read any Wolfe, and I mean ANY Wolfe, because his permatypes and his manipulations of them are endlessly interesting, feel free to come back and chat with me over it!!!

I guess I have to disclaim that my habit is mostly to pick through an author's corpus over a course of, usually, a couple years, and then sometimes I'll read things that will inform my understanding of the genre conventions or currents that the author is writing in (been enjoying Golden Age sci-fi recently)--it's not really as deliberate of a process as it sounds, but I think if you were to map my habits, that's the landscape of it. This means, though, that my reading is actually pretty narrow in scope, and I am not very well read or very knowledgeable in general (who is, in this economy) but it does mean that of the authors I do like, I can probably find the novel that'll work best for your taste.

If you want to come off anon, or I guess just leave another message, haha, (or if someone else wants to, idgaf, we're all friends here at tumblr user hazeism) describing the things you like or look for in a novel I can probably give you a more relevant recommendation. I've been dosing people up a lot lately tbh, it's like a parlor trick I've been doing; I have a conversation with someone and afterwards they'll have a PDF with a relevant Asimov story in their messages, hahaha. I can't help myself sometimes.

Come back anyway, though, if you read anything I talked about, okay? I want to hear about it 🥺

And alsooo (turning to face the audience) if anyone ever wants to put recs in my inbox (or my dms : ) slow replies though sorry I'm a hermit) I'd be happy to take 'em down. Can't guarantee I'll read them in a timely manner, or that you'll ever find out if/when I do, but it's good for me to leave my comfort zone.