#IT ALL MADE SENSE I WAS PUTTING PIECES TOGETHER
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comicaurora ¡ 11 hours ago
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So uhh. If you feel like talking about it. As someone who lives in the US, how are you being kind to yourself on this upsetting morning <3
Checked in with my loved ones first and foremost.
It's interesting. The vibe I've been getting from my circle is very different from 2016. Much less… dread and horror at a realignment of the understanding of what can and can't happen here, now, in this place and day and age. More "fuck, guys. again? whatever. enjoy your consequences, maybe you'll manage to learn something this time."
Frustration and anger is not the most positive feeling, or even the most fair one to express, but it is a protective one. It hurts a lot less than most alternatives.
And it's quite a shift. It was earthshattering back then. How could this have been allowed to happen? Why couldn't it be stopped? Why couldn't we stop it? Why couldn't I stop it? Why couldn't everyone see what this meant? Why couldn't I make them understand? Did they really not care? What did that mean about humanity as a whole? Were we so thoughtless? How could anyone be trusted?
It seems… much less earthshattering to see it happen twice. Disappointing, sure. Frustrating. But nowhere near as devastating as the first time I saw it unfold. We already knew it could happen. I've already had time to digest the implications. Now I'm just freshly disappointed.
It also feels less indicative of Crushing Truths Of Reality this time. We've seen shit get bad. We've also seen shit get better from here! We know both outcomes are possible, even inevitable. We know hoping for a better future is always worthwhile. This isn't the apocalypse. It's an unremarkably bad turn of events brought on by unremarkably self-centered well-documented human impulses. It's utterly mundane in its unpleasantness. It doesn't need to be dignified with despair.
A democratic election, no matter the outcome or the side we're on, makes us all acutely aware of how outnumbered we are by people whose worldviews and priorities are demonstrably incomprehensible to us. And the first time you get outnumbered, it's a shock. Defeat is haunting. It didn't matter how badly you wanted it; by the very function of democracy, you do not have the power to override greater numbers. (insert electoral college caveat here)
The second time through, I find myself focusing on a different facet that has dramatically reduced the amount of spiralling I'm doing. I don't expect this to work for everyone, but for me specifically, it helped to crystallize a few thoughts:
You don't have the power to control anyone else. You don't. You can't share your worldview and your revelations with them. You can't make them think or understand anything. You can lay it all out for them, but you can't make them listen, and you can't make it click. A mentor can't make their student learn a lesson; that's why teaching is so complicated and hard. An active choice must be made by the person to enable themselves to understand, and they must put the pieces together in their own mind before it makes sense to them, and the pieces must have been presented in a way that makes sense to them in the first place. Lead a horse to water, can't make them drink.
These elections highlight a disconnect in what different groups of people care about; and no matter how clearly you explain yourself or how passionately you perform, caring cannot be forced on someone. Understanding and connection cannot be forced. You cannot make anything or anyone matter to someone. They have to choose to see how it matters in order to internalize it. If they choose not to, that is not your failing. You couldn't have made them do it by just Explaining Better. They are not your responsibility. They make their own choices. You can't reach inside their head and connect the dots for them.
I'm a storyteller. I make stories and put them out into the world. I hope people get something good out of them, but I have no control over what that something is. I want people to be thoughtful and kind and compassionate and hopeful and see themselves reflected in stranges, no matter their differences. I can craft stories that I hope encourage this. But that is the extent of my ability and the extent of my responsibility. I control no-one's actions but my own, and so while I am not having the best day, I am at least content that I am doing what I can, and I am not shattering myself against impossibilities trying to control the things I can't.
Sometimes, people make decisions that I think are really bad. I can't make that not happen. All I can do is try to make decisions that will result in things I think are good. Today, that means checking in on people, and not assigning too much dramatic narrative weight to an ultimately mundane set of unremarkable bad decisions outside of my control. We'll take life as it comes and help each other out when and how we can. Everything else is out of our hands.
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solxamber ¡ 3 days ago
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Romance ClichĂŠs With: Kalim Al-Asim
ClichĂŠ: Been here all along
Others: Leona ; Azul ; Vil ; Idia
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You and Kalim had a routine. Every so often, you’d sit him down and give him the ultimate spa treatment—fancy hand scrubs, oils, and finally, a glossy layer of nail polish. He’d become your cheerful test subject, and he loved it. Any chance to sit close to you and listen to your latest stories was pure gold for him.
Today, as you meticulously painted his nails in the prettiest shade of gold (because, really, what else for the heir of the Asim family?), you were in the middle of a rant. Kalim was sitting cross-legged across from you, his hands splayed out on a small towel between you, his smile broad and his attention entirely on you.
"And then," you continued, voice full of indignation, “Ace has the nerve to say, 'Maybe you just aren't good at picking teams.’ Like excuse me, who carried us in that last game?"
You didn’t catch the soft laugh he let out or the way his eyes never left your face. You were lost in your tirade, as he’d seen you get so many times. To Kalim, though, your frustration was the cutest thing he’d ever witnessed. He didn’t care if you were ranting about terrible teamwork or about Ace’s complete lack of respect for your skills; he just loved being here, with you, listening to every word you said.
“I mean, do I not deserve a little credit here?” you huffed, lifting his hand to blow lightly on his nails, setting the polish. “A little respect?”
“I respect you!” Kalim chimed in with all the enthusiasm in the world, his grin stretching even wider as you glanced up at him, eyebrows raised.
“Yeah, you’re the only one apparently,” you teased, rolling your eyes. “Honestly, I don’t know how you put up with me sometimes. You’re a saint.”
Kalim giggled. “Aw, it’s easy. You’re, like, my favorite person in the world!” he replied, so naturally, as if he hadn’t just dropped a little confession right there in the open.
That made you pause. Something about his tone was so genuine, so incredibly warm, that you finally noticed the look on his face. Kalim was gazing at you with those big, sparkling eyes of his, his expression as open as the sky—completely adoring, soft and fond, like he was seeing every word you spoke as something precious. There was something in his smile, in the gentle way he watched you, that made your heart do a funny little flip.
“...Wait a minute,” you said, unable to tear your gaze away from him. “Are you actually serious?”
Kalim tilted his head, smile never wavering. “Of course I am!” he said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Oh, I don’t know, maybe because…” You faltered, suddenly feeling a bit flustered. “I mean, you always seem so… I didn’t think you actually…”
Kalim’s face lit up, and he gave a little laugh, like he couldn’t believe you didn’t get it yet. “I think you’re incredible, you know that? You’re always there for everyone, even when they don’t deserve it. You’ve been here for me since day one,” he said, sounding almost in awe. “How could I not love you?”
For a second, you were speechless. Your mind raced, piecing together every look he’d ever given you, every laugh, every little moment you two had shared, and it all suddenly made sense. The way he was always so enthusiastic to spend time with you, the way he lit up when you entered the room, the way he seemed so content just sitting beside you while you went on about the most mundane things…
It was like a light bulb flickered on in your head. He’s… he’s loved me all along.
“Kalim,” you said softly, a bit of awe creeping into your voice, “I think I just realized that… I love you, too.”
Kalim’s smile widened, his eyes crinkling in pure joy. “Really?” he asked, like he’d won the lottery. “I’ve been waiting to hear you say that since forever!”
His joy was contagious, and before you knew it, you were grinning like an idiot, a warmth spreading through your chest. “Since forever, huh?” you teased, gently setting his hands down so you could lean in closer. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”
He shrugged, giggling. “I was gonna! But I was waiting for the perfect moment.” He glanced at his freshly painted nails and then up at you with that boyish grin of his. “And hey, I think this turned out to be pretty perfect.”
You let out a laugh, both of you breaking into delighted smiles as you moved to take his hand in yours, his fingers still a little tacky from the polish. “You’re an absolute dork, you know that?”
“Maybe!” he agreed, shamelessly. “But I’m your dork now, right?”
You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, but your heart was thumping wildly, and you knew there was no one else you’d rather be sitting here with, exchanging goofy smiles. “Yeah,” you admitted, leaning in to give him a gentle kiss on the cheek. “You’re my dork.”
Kalim let out a soft, dreamy sigh, tilting his head to look at you like you’d just promised him the world. His cheeks were flushed, his eyes half-lidded in bliss, and he practically melted beside you. “I can’t believe this is real…” he murmured, voice full of wonder.
“Oh, it’s real alright.” You gave his hand a squeeze, already thinking of all the things you wanted to do now that the truth was out. Date nights, laughing over silly things, maybe even bringing him along to rant to about every single Ace-induced annoyance. “We’re really doing this.”
And with one last look of pure adoration, Kalim leaned forward, grinning. “I’m so happy,” he whispered before pulling you into the warmest, most joyous hug you’d ever felt. You were both laughing, a perfect mess of feelings as you hugged him back, finally realizing you’d both been here all along, waiting for this exact moment.
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Masterlist
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natsukishinomiyaswife ¡ 5 hours ago
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Nighttime Pondering (Part One)
Hello ♡ I told my friend @offorestsongs that I would write the fluffiest thing I could think of, fluffy enough to make him fall in love with his favorite character all over again! I decided to write something not only for him, but for some of my other mutuals as well ♡ Please note that no pronouns are used for the Reader! Enjoy ♡
Featured characters: Rook, Ruggie, Jamil
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Scenario Introduction:
He loves you, adores you more than anything in the world. He makes you feel safe, loved, and protected. On nights when he's busy, coming home to see your sleeping figure instantly brings him a sense of peace. His body relaxes, his mind clears, and his focus is entirely on you.
The peaceful look on your face, moonlight coming through the curtains illuminating your figure. The slow rise and fall of your chest, the sound of your breath breaking the silence of the night. He loves these moments more than anything, more than you'd ever know. So he lays there beside you, watching with adoration as his thoughts consume him, thinking just how lucky he was to have you ♡
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Rook Hunt (@offorestsongs)
♡ Adoration, devotion ♡
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He's careful as he enters the room, doing his best to leave you undisturbed. Like a hunter stalking his prey he's silent, quietly making his way to the bed. He changes slowly, putting on his pajamas while taking peaks of your face, looking over his shoulder with a smile.
Instead of joining you in bed, he walks over to your side, sitting on his knees on the floor. He gazes at your features fondly, gently moving stray pieces of hair from your face. You looked so relaxed, so serene, like a work of art come to life. His elbows rest on the bed as he leans closer, looking down at you in adoration. He could hardly believe he was yours, running his hand gently down your cheek. His thumb brushes against your features, as if he were tracing them, committing each one to memory.
If he wasn't careful, he'd spend the night staring at you rather than sleeping, something you've scolded him about in the past. He couldn't help it though, placing a hand on your chest to feel the gentle beat of your heart. It was calm under his palm, a beautiful beat that he adored, just as beautiful as you.
He takes a few minutes more savoring it, the sight of you only he gets to see, the heart that cares for him as much as it beats. Reluctantly he gets up, moving to the other side to get into bed. His arms circle your waist, legs tangling with yours as his face presses against your hair. His hand finds yours, fingers slotting together like a puzzle, like it was meant to be. He can smell your shampoo, the body wash you're fond of, a scent that's distinctly you. He savors it as his eyes close, already picturing what the morning would be like. Waking up to see you lying there, your eyes half lidded as you greeted him drowsily.
He couldn't wait to see it ♡
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Ruggie Bucchi (@midnightmah07, @nicoliharu)
♡ Restless, too good to be true ♡
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He enters the room with a yawn, exhausted after a long day's work. Working multiple jobs is never easy, the paychecks he'll get in return being his sole motivation. There was a sense of satisfaction that came with hard work, yet no matter how much money he made, it was never enough. It would never be enough, at least to him.
Not until he can give himself, his grandmother, the kids back home, and you... a better life. He looks toward where you were in bed, fast asleep in his worn sheets. It was hard to believe you fell for him at times, that you even loved him at all, hidden insecurities plaguing his mind.
He knew he wasn't the best boyfriend, unable to spoil you with gifts or fancy dates. He worked all the time in the hopes of making money, or took things whenever the opportunity arises. Yet, you stayed with him, even when he teased and stole your belongings, longing to catch your eye.
It made him feel restless, knowing you were too good to be true. That you were too good for him, far more valuable than anything he's ever had. How many people have you rejected, just to be with him? People who could shower you with love, with devotion and time. Yet here you were with a hyena from the slums, who couldn't give you the life you deserve...
He shakes the thought from his mind, refusing to let it linger. The important thing was that you chose him, him, out of everyone else. And while his money was limited, he gave you what he could, willing to share whatever he had. Finally he moved to join you in bed, taking a moment to make himself comfortable.
That was his love, his devotion, he gave it all to you. He turned to look at you more closely, grinning at the silly expression on your face. You were completely relaxed, deep in sleep without a care in the world. Wearing the comfortable pajamas you loved so much, your hair sticking up around your pillow. And yet you couldn't have looked more lovely to Ruggie, the hyena pulling you into his arms, pressing a kiss to your temple.
You were worth more than any amount of money, any treasure, anything he could ever own ♡
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Jamil Viper (@crystallizsch, @anbaisai, @viperbunnies, @cheerleaderman, @0honeybones0, @fell-e)
♡ Indulgence, allowing himself to be selfish ♡
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He enters the room with a sigh, letting the quiet of the night wash over him. He was glad to be alone now, or at least, with his thoughts, gazing at you from across the room. It was hard to make out your expression from where he stood, your face resting on one of the pillows scattered on his bed. You looked comfortable, curled up in the blankets as you slept peacefully.
Walking closer he realizes you're wearing one of his sweaters, his heart picking up at the sight. Though he would never say it, his clothes suited you, enjoying whenever you would wear something that was his. It was as if you were showing him off, like you were proud to be his, proud to be with a Viper.
He uses his magic to take down his hair, careful not to disturb you as he did his nightly routine. It was a shame he's been so busy recently, unable to do your hair like he used to. While he wouldn't do it often, he enjoyed the intimacy of it, using his hands to carefully put your hair up. Whether it be with a braid, or a bun, or a ponytail. Just being able to do something for you, something he could easily brush off if needed.
He constantly fought with his feelings for you, wanting to deny them and yet... longing to indulge himself, to be selfish just this once. But habits are hard to break, and while you were together, he still found himself pushing his feelings away, unable to fully give himself to you.
Just how long were you willing to put up with this? This dance he did, pulling you in while moving back, leaving you right where you were before. He walked over to where you lay, gazing down at you in his pajamas. If you were awake, you would see the conflict in his eyes, the longing he tried to mask.
You were his and yet... you weren't, were you? Not really, not until he let himself have this. Let himself have these feelings, this love he refused to call love, this longing he tried to push down. He rests his hand on your cheek, soaking in the softness of your features.
Here in the dark, while you rested unaware, he let's his feelings wash over him, the eyes of others no longer resting on his back. His affection, his adoration, his love and longing for you.
He stares at your face and he indulges, tracing your features, pressing a kiss to your brow. There was no one better suited for you than him, no one who could love you as much. So stay with him, won't you? Even when he pushes, and denies, and distances himself.
There is no one for him but you, no one he wants but you.
It will always be you ♡
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I hope you enjoyed! ♡ I broke this up into parts since it was getting long lol ♡
Part two will have Jack (for @skriblee-ksk), Azul (for @oya-oya-okay), and Lilia (cause I had an idea for him lol ♡) There may also be a part three depending on how people enjoy this idea ♡
Thank you! ♡
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sugar-grigri ¡ 1 day ago
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CSM 182 : snow or the power of forgetting
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the snow, eaten by CSM recently, forgotten
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the snow, the illusion that lulled Aki in his last moments
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the snow, chapter 182, where you finally put the pieces together
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what does snow mean ?
What if I told you that Denji's reaction to Yoru's ambivalence was the wrong one ?
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I'm not talking from a moral point of view, but purely from a narrative one.
What does Yoru actually do by threatening and kissing him ?
It leads to ambivalence, to a striking contrast that is unbearable.
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But life is nothing other than this same diluted contrast, this mixture of negative and positive constantly associated.
When Denji says he can't master these two facets, these dirty tricks and all the problems he has to face, that's precisely what has become his worry.
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splitting himself, splitting his surroundings, seeing obstacles as ultimatums.
All this may seem off-the-wall and crazy, or like an analysis to justify Yoru's behaviour.
It isn't.
Don't see his kiss as a kiss, but as a narrative perch for Denji to finally face up to himself
Why ?
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Dirty things are what he's always hoped for, they seemed in essence extremely positive, they were the way out of his misfortunes
For Denji, doing dirty things inevitably led to happiness.
Denji gradually realises, thanks to several female characters, that these dirty things are not all positive.
You might think that Denji really took his time to realise this...
But it's far from easy for him; for him, life was a deep unhappiness, always, with no prospect of happiness
Or rather, he couldn't see happiness
Because his conception of happiness was restricted to those dirty things
Pochita, Aki, Power, Nayuta, Denji realised his own unhappiness after their disappearance, he only realised the presence of happiness through his loss
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Because he hadn't done anything dirty until now!
Until the end of part 1, Denji is trying to rethink his vision of happiness and is trying to break away from normality, to raise his standards higher: eating steak, 10 girlfriends.
Even though he has come close to happiness, Denji doesn't realise it, because since that happiness wasn't eternal, it wasn't happiness.
Happiness remains a way out for him.
Tasting his definition of happiness, being kissed by Yoru, makes him realise that happiness has lost its meaning.
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With each kiss, Denji realises that it won't bring him happiness, because it doesn't make him happy.
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Little by little, Denji tries to get closer to something for the long term, not the moment.
That's why, he asks if "Asa" loves him.
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Can he finally taste that unchanging happiness? Never taste unhappiness again ?
Asa is his downside, her intrusive thoughts, her internal panics, her reflections are preventing her from living in the moment.
And she doesn't want to live in the moment, because she doesn't trust her instincts (when for Denji they are a way out).
Her instincts led her to save a cat, causing the sacrifice of her mother.
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But it was Chainsaw Man who made her realise that life can be excruciatingly bitter and sometimes sweet.
Inhabited by Denji, who is as lost.
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How could Denji say something as right as that crap burger if he's lost too ? Life is disgusting, it's tiring and yet we keep eating this burger, thinking of dogs, cats and ice cream.
Because Denji didn't do it.
It's Denji perfectly fused with Pochita.
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CHAINSAW MAN.
A double being, symbolically realising the ambivalence of life.
Denji was Pochita's happiness, hence her sacrifice.
Pochita was Denji's happiness, hence his unhappiness.
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The constant association of happiness with unhappiness - after all, that's all Denji and Pochita's meeting is about.
Except that at that moment, Denji had come to the wrong conclusion, talking about sex, hence the feeling of unease, and a sense of rupture in his speech. The hope of supreme happiness makes us eat this crap burger, it's true. But it won't make us happy.
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What Yoru shows, even though he's part of Asa, is that the concept of happiness and unhappiness make no sense to a devil ; they instrumentalizes them, doesn't understand them.
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So she gets hit by Asa because, damn it, this concept of happiness and unhappiness belongs to men.
So Asa takes over and says she hasn't recovered from her mother's death because this event will always seem so unacceptable and horrible to her. Bad things don't disappear.
What changes is the memories we want to bring to the fore.
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Snow.
Symbolising Denji's supreme misfortune of having killed his brother to the point of vomiting with guilt.
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Symbolically, it is this same vomiting that spits out the snow.
The snow is not just a trauma.
Aki was obsessed by the memory of the tragedy of his family, who were also killed in snowy weather.
And when Aki decides to visit his family's graves, to pay his respects tragically at his family's graves
He can't do it
Because two idiots divert his attention.
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Forcing Aki to look away from the unhappiness of the past
To face the happiness right in front of him.
What Aki realised just before his death was that he had never seen happiness, or rather he had chosen not to.
Because happiness isn't there to be found, it's there, it's just there to be looked at, plunged in a pile of shit but it's sometimes there, but we refuse to consider that this thing is happiness, we can hope for more, can't we?
You have to eat this crappy hamburger, even if it means throwing up.
This is the taste of happiness.
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Back to the snow
Which you associate with Denji's sadness and Aki's death
Yet this snow fight is Aki's last happiness
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Seeing that snow again, associated with that fateful day when he lost his family
Holding that snow in his hands, and playing with his little brother, a little brother he has found again
What if this scene wasn't something he had to endure, but a choice? Aki's choice not to see, the gun held to his eyes, the choice to lull himself into one last sweet illusion, one last bandage, one last cigarette, to escape from this reality that he had always stubbornly tried to face, to escape from it.
But Denji is crying at this point.
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Happiness cannot be total happiness, it melts, like snow.
Unhappiness will always be diametrically opposed.
The fact remains that snow is this temporary oblivion, this misfortune that we take in our hands to make snowballs, this moment of fun condemned to melt, snow determines what we do with our misfortune and our happiness.
Snow represents what we decide to see.
It is the forgetting, or rather the silencing of painful memories.
To realize that the snow is cold is to realize the end of happiness, because you're not playing anymore.
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I don't like playing snowball: I don't like pretending to be happy anyway.
These memories will not disappear, but we can choose not to see them too much
The snow will remain cold, it will be condemned to melt, it is this moment, what we do with this moment.
Because if it didn't melt, no life would develop
If happiness and unhappiness were not this constant ambivalence, this intermingling of happy and painful moments, if this ephemeral aspect did not exist
Then no life would exist.
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When Denji vomits snow, it's because he realises once again the association between happiness and unhappiness that snow represents.
Disgusted by this sad reality too, of not seeing unchanging happiness, of seeing life not as a burger, but as a shit burger.
But the snow is beautiful and it won't stay.
Like these two.
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thisgirlnamedblusy ¡ 2 days ago
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Heey! I hope you're doing well! I would like to request a story about gp Donna having a daughter with a maid who abandoned her when the child was born. Donna raises her daughter alone and homeschool her for most of the part until her daughter tells her that she wants music lessons so Donna asks the duke a piano. The duke being all noisy gets the tea about Donna's daughter wanting music lessons and suggests Donna to hire reader as her teacher, an excellent pianist with good reputation. Both Donna and her daughter (like mother, like daughter) fall in love with reader with Donna's daughter wanting reader to become her other mom (and unlike Donna, her daughter is not that shy and is always complementing reader and dropping hints to her that Donna is very much single).
One afternoon after a lesson Donna listens to reader sing while she plays the piano and is mesmerized by her beautiful voice. Perhaps reader is singing a classical piece like Ave Maria by Schubert and that sort of reminds her of her family before the black gods faith and all that (I suppose it would make sense not to sing about other gods except for the black ones? So that's why gets more enamored with reader, for bringing her back those memories). Anywaysss, Donna with a little help from her daughter confesses to reader, who of course has fallen in love with Donna and her offspring.
welll, I hope that wasn't too much of a request 😅
Have a good day!
Yesss!!! I have to say I loved that request, thank you :D! I hope you like it and sorry about the language mistakes!!!! :)))))
Rebuilding a broken life
Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem! Reader
Warnings: Fluff, a bit of angst, Donna being Donna and a single mother, that's curious :D, G!P Donna (implied), Donna's POV
Word count: 8,709
Summary: I only have my daughter...
N/A: Sorry about the language mistakes!!! Requests are open, I'm waiting yours!!! I love you all!!! :))
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Sometimes I try to live in the past, to remember what those times were like, when life was much easier. I would have given anything to go back to that moment, to reject Mother Miranda's offer to make me her daughter, a Lord.
But being named Lord, obtaining the divine grace of the Black Gods didn’t illuminate my path, rather, it darkened it. I always lived isolated. I was never interested in people. They were evil, they laughed at me, at my appearance, at my scar. I could consider my transition from villager to Lord a success, since those mocking laughs turned into cries and screams of terror, but, apart from that, nothing else changed.
At least nothing that had to do with my condition as a lonely and isolated woman. The reason for the mockery and for my behavior mutated in an unpleasant way; turning me into something like a deformed monster, as much as Miranda denied it.
The Gods' whim was just a moment of fun, and with me... they went too far. Not only did my eye disappear, not only did they turn me into an unpleasant being. They also played with my body.
I didn't care too much, I got used to it soon, but I didn't know how to get used to loneliness. My solitary life only ended partially. Angie, my doll since I was a child, came to life thanks to my efforts, to my desperation to hear another voice other than those in my head.
It might seem like a positive change, in part it was, but it wasn't what I was looking for by giving myself over to the black claws of the village. Getting out of that spiral of madness and loneliness was my true goal, but things never turn out the way you expect. Neither the new parts of my body, nor my powers, nor my appearance made it change. Madness continued to eat away my brain, the madness that came from an illness that had stalked my family for years.
If you put it all together, a deformed face, a different body, terrifying powers, madness and absolute loneliness, you get a legend, a character from a scary story, you get me: the last Lord, the doll maker, Donna Beneviento.
I stopped aging. I stopped being a baseless legend to become a woman to be feared, respected or even revered. My new siblings seemed to enjoy that change, to exercise power over the rest of the villagers, to inflict terror on them.
I was never interested in that kind of power, the power to get what I wanted when I wanted and the power to never be questioned. I had become so accustomed to my solitude that it became my refuge, a refuge for all eternity.
One day, after my sister Alcina convinced me, I decided to try out what it would be like to live with someone, to hear other different voices in the mansion, and I accepted one of her maids. She was a beautiful girl. Her name was Helga.
It could have been because of the lack of habit, because of my heart's longing to not feel alone, the reasons really didn't matter. It didn't take long for me to fall in love with her. I had never believed in love, I never had the chance to experience what my books talked about. I was eager to do it, to love, to be loved.
Looking back on the past, I now think that maybe I should have thought things better, understand that love is something that happens between two people, and not just for one of them.
Helga accepted my feelings and let herself be loved by a monster like me. In her eyes I could see the lie, the deception. I could see a false smile when she heard me say: I love you. I didn't give it any importance, she had to love me.
Of course I let myself be carried away by my clumsy feelings, by my erratic heart. I took that girl. I made her mine when I wanted, when I needed. I thought everything would change from that moment on, and I was right.
I wasn’t careful when I claimed her body as mine, and there were consequences. After a few months with the illusion of living a romance, it happened, I got her pregnant. I never thought about having a family, about starting one.
I had to get used to the idea of ​​having a baby with someone who, deep down, I knew didn’t love me, but seeing my child grow in her womb mesmerized me too much. After a few months, that child came into the world, a beautiful girl, Maria Beneviento.
I came to think that I couldn’t be happier. I had a beautiful girl, a young maid at my side, everything was perfect, but, again, it was just an illusion. I remember the blizzard of that night, that terrible night.
“Shh, ti prego non piangere, tesoro…” I whispered while cradling the newborn, who wouldn't stop crying. “Oh, hai fame, vero?” I said, getting up to look for Helga, who, she told me, needed to rest.
I couldn't blame her. It had only been a week since the girl was born and she was exhausted.
I walked through the house with the girl in my arms. Poor thing, she was crying inconsolably. I looked for Helga in her room, the one she never wanted to leave. I will never be able to get over what I found.
The room was empty, there was no one there. I looked for her, but she was gone. In the baby's crib there was a note, a damn note that I burned in the fire, and whose words still burn in my heart.
I can't stand it anymore.
Everything I did, I did because I was afraid, because you scared me.
I can't stand having given my life to a monster like you, having a baby who will soon become a monster too.
I can't stay with you. I can't look my daughter in the face, a daughter I never wanted.
I never loved you, and I never will.
I'm leaving, Donna, I'm leaving forever. I wish I could have taken that innocent baby with me, but you terrify me, I know what you'll do to me.
I screamed, I cried, I hit everything within my reach. I couldn't believe those words and at the same time it seemed like I had read them somewhere else, perhaps in her sad and complacent gaze.
Without thinking twice, furious, with my daughter in my arms, I went out to look for her. It was a dark night and the snow didn't stop falling. I called out to her, I threatened her, but it was too late.
On the snowy ground there were footprints, her footprints. Desperate, I followed them, followed them until... they disappeared, they disappeared at the edge of a cliff.
Surely that stupid girl didn't know how dangerous my land was, how dangerous it was to go out at night in the middle of a blizzard.
She would never come back, she abandoned me forever, she abandoned us.
I might have thought that I had the consolation of still having my daughter, that my baby hadn't fallen into the void with her mother, but I didn't see it that way. My soul was broken in two, my heart was crushed mercilessly. That girl left me alone with my daughter, that girl never loved me.
I don't know what I would have done if I didn't have my daughter in my arms, I don't know what the consequences would have been. I spent days complaining, even though I barely had time. I was left alone, my daughter too. Helga abandoned me, but Maria was still with me. She was a newborn baby, she needed me.
Pain, suffering... at first that was what I felt when I had to take care of my daughter alone. I never knew how to do it well. I was overwhelmed several times, desperate. Then I realized what I had to do, my responsibility. I had to take care of my little girl; it didn't matter if I had to do it by myself. I had no other option.
Luckily, I managed to get used to the situation, and move on.
The years went by and my little Maria grew up, perhaps faster than I would have liked. She was a girl... well, a bit strange girl. Physically she was exactly like me, but... her personality was not similar at all.
Maria was intelligent, extremely intelligent. She was a happy, funny, outgoing and obedient child. I like to think that I was a good mother to her, although that wasn't the case.
From a very young age she had to put up with my madness. Dealing with a sick mother like me, without having anyone else (apart from Angie, of course), must have been hard for her, but she never showed it.
Eight years after that fateful night, my daughter and I lived peacefully. She knew me and understood me, and I loved her madly.
I knocked on the girl's bedroom door slowly, as it was a reasonable hour to sleep.
“Come in,” my daughter said, in a sweet voice, as always.
“Maria, it's time to sleep,” I said softly.
The girl, lying in bed, looked at me over the book she was reading with Angie, and made a gesture of silence. I couldn't help but smile and obeyed her request, slowly approaching and sitting on the mattress.
“Cinque minuti,” she whispered in an intriguing voice, turning a page. “Mamma, they've killed Dumbledore…”
“Oh,” I sighed with a tender smile, watching Maria devour the book.
“I told you Snape was a traitor from the start! I told you!” Angie shrieked, pointing at the book with her wooden hand.
“Angie, don't shout,” I told the doll, who relaxed her attitude.
“It's true, you were right, Angie,” Maria said, nodding to the doll, who laughed in satisfaction.
The little girl closed the book with a sigh of suspense and left it on the table, passing a hand over her forehead.
“Wow... it was interesting,” she said, letting me get a little closer and cover her with the sheets. “I can't wait to see what happens,” she said rubbing her hands.
“Mm,” I murmured with my eyebrow raised, arranging my daughter's hair, a gesture she liked less and less.
“Mamma…” she protested amused. “I'm not a child anymore.”
“Aren’t you? So, what are you?” I asked with the same mocking tone.
“Mm…” she murmured thoughtfully, looking at the ceiling. “An impending pre-teenager.”
I laughed, shaking my head at my daughter's bold responses. I definitely don't know where she got that audacity from. It couldn't be from me… maybe from Angie?
“Excuse me, my impending teenager,” I joked, making sure the girl was well protected from the cold.
“Um, mamma…” Maria murmured nervously, attracting my attention, when I was about to leave. “Can I talk to you?”
“Va bene,” I answered frowning and sitting back down. “What's wrong, tesoro?”
“I was just wondering…” she said, without looking at me directly, thoughtful. “Mamma… Who was my mother?”
The smile immediately faded from my face and memories appeared to haunt my wounded mind. I had to make a great effort to control my nerves. I didn't want to lose my mind in front of my daughter, not again.
“Maria, what's that question about?” I said nervously, with a cold tone.
“Well…” Maria said, sitting on the bed while scratching the back of her neck. “I have a good memory. I remember I asked you when I was… I think I was 4 years old. You told me I was too young to know.”
“Mm, certo,” I said blinking erratically.
“But I'm not so young anymore,” my daughter said, with an expectant look. “Per favore, mamma, tell me what she was like,”
I sighed, undecided, but motivated by her bright eyes, identical to mine.
“W-Well… y-you…” I stammered, trying hard not to let my voice get stuck, something complicated. “Your mother was… her name was Helga and… she was my maid.”
The girl nodded curiously, barely blinking.
“She was very beautiful,” I whispered, remembering that treacherous look.
“What happened to her?” she asked impatiently.
“Um… she left, she abandoned us shortly after you were born,” I said, knowing there was no point in lying to her. That girl was devilishly smart, she would find out sooner or later.
“She left you alone with a baby? Wow, she wasn't a good person then,” the girl whispered. “Do you think I'll ever get to meet her?”
“No, I'm afraid… she's gone,” I murmured, shaking my head and holding back a tear.
“Oh, well… thanks for telling me,” Maria said with an indifferent voice, opening the drawer of her nightstand and taking out a paper and a pen. “Yes, it’s progressing…”
“Mm?” I murmured curiously, trying to see what was on that sheet of paper, on which Maria seemed to cross something out. “Cos’è questo, Maria?” I asked, tilting my head to try to make out something.
“Questo?” she said, showing me the paper. I nodded slowly, studying those phrases that were written on it. “Oh, it’s nothing… just a wish list.”
“A wish list?” I asked curious and amused, trying to bury the memory of her mother, so her words wouldn’t penetrate my mind, and destroy it again.
“Well, I'm already 8,” she explained with that knowing tone I adored. “Soon I'll reach adolescence and lose my mind, you know, hormones…” she said with a passive voice and an amused gesture. “Before that happens and my head starts to think about stupid boys, I would like to do some things.”
“Mm, you're cautious,” I commented, surprised, as always, by her intelligence. “Can I take a look?” I asked, extending a hand towards the paper, paper that Maria handed me, nodding and shrugging.
Yes, it was a list, the wish list of an eight-year-old girl. Some things were crossed out, the most recent was:
Meet my mother
I sighed somewhat sadly knowing that she would never do it, but I continued reading, hoping to distract myself enough with the girl thoughts and ambitions.
“Maria…” I whispered, looking at the girl with a frown and pointing at one of the phrases. “To have a sibling?” I asked with a trembling voice.
“Yes,” my girl nodded, with an innocent smile. “I think it would be really cool to have one,” she said without caring about the impossibility that it entailed. “Don't be offended, Angie.”
“More minions? I like how it sounds,” the doll said, with an amused gesture.
“I'm afraid that wish is impossible, tesoro,” I said with a low voice, with a sad look.
I could never, ever fall in love again, not after what happened the first time I did.
“No, it's not impossible,” Maria protested, leaning towards me and reading her phrases. “Look, mamma, if this one here comes true, it would be possible.”
I looked at where her finger was pointing, and I didn't know whether to laugh or to cry in despair.
Mamma stops being alone
I read it several times, glancing at the girl and hiding the trembling in my hands.
“Maria…”  I sighed, running a hand through my hair. “Y-You should think of another wish.”
“No, they are my wishes, you can't influence them,” the girl said, crossing her arms. “You just have to read them, not judge them.”
“Va bene, you're right,” I said, briefly pinching her cheek, something that made her laugh embarrassedly. “Mm, learn to play the piano?” I asked, reading more of her wishes. “Do you want to learn to play the piano?”
“Oh, yes, do you remember the day we went to see Aunt Alcina at the castle?” she asked, coming closer, she seemed excited.
“Yes, of course I remember,” I answered, looking at my daughter curiously. “You mean the maid who played you a birthday song, right?”
“Well…” the girl sighed, rolling her eyes. “The song was childish and squeaky, but the sound of that piano… it was beautiful, so I decided to learn… but… we don't have a piano,” she said in a much lower voice, looking away, as she always did when she wanted to ask me for something.
“Actually we have one in the basement,” I said. “You could learn on it.”
“Mamma, that's not exactly a piano,” my daughter said in an innocent tone, biting her lip. “I want a real one, a piano as cool as the one in the castle.”
“You want a piano,” I murmured, arching my eyebrow. “Do you want me to buy a piano, Maria? Is that what you're trying to ask me?”
“Well… I wouldn't say no if you do,” she said amused, with her eyes wide open. “I know my birthday has passed and…”
“Cut the crap,” I said amused, shaking my head. “Well… I guess it’s something much more feasible than some of your wishes.”
“Does that mean you’ll do it? Will you buy me a piano?” the girl asked, standing up on the bed, excited again.
I looked at her tenderly and thought for a moment. I could never deny my little girl anything, I never would.
“If you behave,” I said amused, pointing at her with my finger before she jumped into my arms.
“Great! Grazie di cuore, mamma, you’re the best, the best!” Maria yelled enthusiastically, wrapping her arms around me and giving me a tender hug that I always appreciated, that told me I would never be alone, I would always have my daughter.
“Okay, okay, tesoro,” I said, overwhelmed by her affectionate kisses, gently patting her back. “But you’ll have to be consistent and learn to play wonderfully, mm?”
“Certo, I have to read more books,” my daughter said, moving away and letting herself fall on the bed, with a hand on her chin, thoughtful. “Now go, I have to think,” she said with a concentrated expression. “Where could we put it, Angie?”
“Well, you better go to sleep,” I said, laughing tenderly, giving her a kiss on the forehead and looking at the doll coldly, telling Angie with my eyes not to bother Maria and let her rest, something almost impossible.
“Mamma,” Maria called me, before I went out the door. “Ti voglio bene”
“Anch’io, tesoro… Anch’io…” I whispered, closing the door slowly.
Maria was not a capricious child, even though I always did whatever she wants to see her happy. I will always be surprised by her ability to educate practically by herself, taking advantage of my absences, my crises, to fill her mind with knowledge.
Sometimes I regretted having had a maid, but I changed my mind when I saw my little girl. She was the most important thing to me, and that would always be the case.
If Maria wanted a piano, she would have a piano, without a doubt.
The next day I took advantage of the Duke's weekly visit to make the request. I still find it hard to believe how different Maria is, how little she resembles my withdrawn and shy personality…
“Hello, Duke,” Maria said, waving her hand politely with a mocking smile.
I was standing next to her, with my face covered with the veil and the Angie doll in my arms. No matter how well that horrible man treated my little girl, I never trusted him.
“Miss Beneviento, you look well,” the merchant murmured, handing me the things I needed for the week. “Lady Beneviento…”
“Hi, fatty,” Angie said, moving in my arms. “How are you?”
“Great,” he replied, counting the coins I threw at him in an unpleasant manner. “What do you say, Miss? Did you manage to solve last week's riddle?” he asked, looking at my daughter with a sinister smile.
“Of course,” the girl answered, with a smug smile. “The answer is the Sun,” she said, lifting her chin. “Although… there was something wrong with the riddle. Yes, normally the sun rises and sets, but… did you know that there are certain areas of the world where it doesn't rise or set for several months?”
“Oh, I guess I forgot that detail,” the man said, laughing amused at the girl's words. “You got it right again…”
“As always,” Maria said, making a gesture to play it down.
“Come on, we want to see that chocolate bar,” Angie demanded, climbing into Maria's arms while I watched in silence.
“Here you go, Miss…” the Duke sighed amusedly tossing a sweet to the girl, one that she caught gracefully. “I hope I don't make it so easy for you next time.”
“Grazie,” the kid said, kindly. “Mamma, tell him, tell him,” she said, tugging at my dress, somewhat impatiently.
I looked at her and gestured for Angie to come closer.
“That's it, Duke, we want a piano,” I said, speaking through the doll.
“A piano?” the man asked, taking out a small notebook.
“Yes, yes, a piano,” Maria said, jumping on the ground. “I'm going to learn to play it.”
“Oh, that's wonderful, Miss, music is the voice of the soul,” the Duke said, writing something down. “Is an upright piano okay?”
I looked at my daughter, who did the same, nodding.
“Yes, okay,” she said, smiling with satisfaction.
“For your sake, fatso, fatso, I hope you don't fool us,” Angie said, climbing up the carriage and looking at the merchant in a menacing manner. “A nice piano for Maria, is that clear?”
“Like water, Miss Angie,” he said, amused, gesturing for the doll to move away. “Tell me, how do you plan to learn?”
“Well... By myself, I guess, Donna doesn’t know to play it,” my daughter said, making me look at her embarrassed. “Don't be offended, mamma.”
“I see,” the Duke said, looking at me with a mocking smile. “It turns out that I know someone. There is a girl in the village who is an excellent pianist, perhaps, Lady Beneviento, it would be good for your daughter if she gave the little Miss some lessons.”
“A piano teacher?” Maria asked, while I pondered the offer. “That would be great, mamma, say yes, say yes…”
“I don't know, tesoro… I don't like people coming to the house,” I murmured, putting myself at the height of the girl, who made a sad gesture.
“Please…” my daughter begged, putting her hands together.
“Please, please…” Angie said, imitating her gesture.
“Ugh,” I sighed, looking at the Duke, who was impatiently waiting for my answer.
“Well? I promise you won't regret it, my lady,” the merchant said, studying my movements. “I'm convinced that she will get along very well with your offspring.”
“Oh, I…” I muttered, gesturing to Angie, giving up. “Okay,” the doll said, speaking in my voice.
After a few days, the piano arrived at the mansion and, with the unpleasant help of some lycans, I managed to find a suitable place for it. Maria was very excited, but I, not so much. The idea of ​​a gossipy villager entering my house… talking to my little girl… I didn't like it, but just seeing Maria's shining eyes, I got used to it.
“Here she is!” the girl shrieked, running towards the door, which someone had knocked on. It was that disgusting teacher, no doubt. “Vai, mamma!”
“I'm coming,” I said in a whisper, putting on my veil and approaching the door, opening it slowly.
I was expecting to find an old woman, a petulant old woman who was no longer in her prime, but I was petrified. Behind the door, there was a rather young woman, smiling and… beautiful, terribly beautiful.
“H-Hello,” the young woman said, waking me from a reverie. I wasn’t expecting someone like that. “It’s an honor to meet you, Lady Beneviento.”
“Are you the teacher?” Angie asked, speaking for me, uncomfortably studying the girl, who seemed scared by her presence. I don’t blame her.
“Yes, my name is (Y/N),” she said, extending her hand towards me, a hand that I briefly looked at, but didn’t shake, making her withdraw it awkwardly. “Um… well… so you want to learn to play the piano, right?”
“No,” I said with my hoarse voice, while my daughter came out from behind me, looking with the same surprise as me at that girl. “Not me.”
“Hello,” Maria said, with an elegant gesture. “I'm Maria Beneviento, and I'm your new student,” she said with an amused smile, shaking her hand, something I couldn't do.
“Oh, wow, I didn't know that... that it was you,” the young woman said, looking at me and then at the girl, making a small, friendly bow “I thought I was going to teach you, Lady Beneviento.”
“No, my mother doesn't have a clue about music, she only knows how to make dolls,” the girl said, amused, causing me to give her a gentle slap on the shoulder as a reprimand. “Oh, but she makes them very well, I promise.”
“Your mother? You mean...? Are you her daughter?” the pianist asked, looking at me with a frown and a bewildered expression.
“Yes, of course,” the little girl said, guiding the visitor through the house. “Don't you see how much we look alike?” she asked, pointing to the portrait on the stairs.
“Oh, um… is that you?” (Y/N) asked, looking at me and pointing at the portrait. I didn't move, nor did I say a single word, obviously. “W-Wow, your really look alike, you're like two peas in a pod.”
“Isn't that right?” Maria laughed, taking the stranger's hand and leading her into the living room. “This way, (Y/N)”
“I-It's funny. I didn’t know you had a daughter, my lady,” the young woman said, walking towards the piano next to my little girl, looking at me out of the corner of her eye, distrustful.
“Mm,” I murmured, not giving importance to her comment, approaching Maria. “Tesoro, I'm going to the workshop, Angie will stay with you, if something happens…”
“Mamma… non preocuparti,” Maria said, sitting on the stool in front of the piano, next to that unknown girl.
“Va bene,” I whispered, giving one last look to the young woman, who did the same quickly. I could see the fear in her eyes.
Reluctant, but with no other choice, I left them alone.
It must have been an entertaining afternoon, since Angie didn't warn me of any danger, but she did when that girl was about to leave.
“Grazie, (Y/N), see you tomorrow,” Maria said, waving her hand goodbye, while I, suspicious, walked with the young woman to the door.
“Your daughter is very talented, my lady,” (Y/N) commented, before leaving through the door.
“Mm,” I murmured in an impatient tone, wishing she would leave at once.
“Well, she has to practice, but I think she can be a great pianist if she puts her mind to it,” the young woman said, with no intention of leaving. “It's unbelievable that she's just eight years old, she's very intelligent.”
“I know that already,” I whispered impatiently, handing her a bag of coins.
“Oh, um, thanks,” she said, putting them in her purse. “I was surprised that you had a daughter… well, in the village we never…”
“I know,” I cut her words off abruptly, with a tired sigh. “No one has to know about my life.”
“Yes, well, I understand,” she said, scratching the back of her neck. “Forgive my indiscretion, I know it's none of my business but… What about her father?”
The Angie doll, who was listening next to me, began to laugh outrageously, drawing our attention.
“Stupid,” Angie said, pointing at the girl with her finger and pretending to laugh loudly. “You're so stupid… Donna is Maria's mother, get it? She's her mother, she impregnated a maid and…”
“Angie…” I hissed nervously.
“What?” the pianist asked, looking at me and speaking in a small voice when she realized her mistake.
I, nervous and embarrassed, clenched my fists tightly on both sides of my hips.
“Oh, shit, I mean… I understand, oh, I… w-well, I had heard rumors but they seemed… I mean, it's okay, well, there's a huge woman, a fish man… it's not that I find it strange or anything like that, I mean…” she said nervously, not knowing where to run.
I crossed my arms furiously, wanting to make her live the worst of her nightmares, but then I thought of Maria and I restrained myself.
“Shut up,” I demanded with a firm tone. “I advise you to stop sticking your nose where it doesn't belong,” I threatened walking a step towards her, making the girl back off.
“I'm sorry. It's just that…” she said, visibly nervous, refusing to look at my face.
“Does my Donna's penis disgust you, silly?” Angie said, making me burn with rage.
“Angie! Taci, taci, taci!” I screamed furiously, kicking the floor. The piano played in the background, Maria was oblivious to the conversation, fortunately.
“What? Oh, no, no, not at all… I have no problem with that,” the pianist said, putting her hands in a position of surrender. “B-besides, I'm just your daughter's piano teacher, I have no intention of snooping in your… business. I was just… I was just curious.”
“Curiosity…” I began in a dark tone, making it clear to that stupid village girl what her place was.
“Killed the cat, I know,” she finished, with a nervous smile. “I just want to say that, well, that… your daughter is great.”
“Mm,” I growled, looking away and closing the door in her face. “Cazzo, Angie…”
The doll, realizing that she had given too much information, ran off towards Maria, who was playing the keys, surely putting into practice what she had learned.
“Look, mamma, I know the scale,” the girl said, gesturing for me to come closer as she softly played the piano.
“Meraviglioso, Maria,” I sighed, relaxing with the soft sound of the instrument.
“So… what do you think?” my daughter murmured, looking at the floor. “About (Y/N).”
“(Y/N)?” I asked annoyed, sighing as I took off my veil. “She's just some ordinary village girl.”
“No, not at all. She's great, she's super smart, and she plays really well, and she's also really beautiful, don't you think, mamma?” Maria said, following me through the mansion.
“Mm, maybe she is,” I commented distractedly. She was right, that girl was very beautiful… but a nuisance too. “Your lessons, Maria, don't forget them,” I said in a motherly tone, pointing to her study books.
The visits from that unpleasant girl continued. Maria learned a lot from (Y/N), although I didn't like to admit it. Little by little I got used to the presence of that nosy villager, maybe too much, since, from time to time, I came up from the workshop to see how she taught my daughter.
They seemed to get along really well, and every day her beauty was much more evident to me, but I didn't give it any importance, she was still an idiot.
“That's it, you learn very quickly Maria,” (Y/N) said as I approached slowly. “It's noticeable that you practice a lot.”
“Of course I do, so I don't forget,” the little girl said, swinging her legs on the stool.
“Um, Maria… I'd like to ask you something,” the teacher whispered, looking around, probably afraid that I would appear.
That made me back off and hide in the shadows. I wanted to hear what that stupid girl was saying about me, I was sure she would say something about me.
“Va bene,” my daughter said, distracted, touching the keys.
“Hey, your mother…” the young woman murmured, attracting my attention even more. “Your mother is a bit scary, isn't she?”
“Mamma Donna?” Maria asked and shook her head. “Not at all, are you scared of my mamma?”
“Um, well,” the girl said, with a nervous smile. “She's a Lord and… well, in the village everyone fears her.”
“Bah, nonsense,” my daughter said, gesturing with her hand. “That's because they don't know her. Donna is nice.”
“Really? Does she take good care of you?” she asked in a more confident tone, something that made me burn with rage.
How could that stupid woman question my way of taking care of my daughter?
“Oh, yes, she is very intelligent, she teaches me many things,” Maria said, making me sigh with relief.
“Um… what about your other mother? Don't you miss her?” (Y/N) asked, making me want to end her existence.
“Not really,” the girl said, lowering her head. “I never got to know her. Mamma Donna told me that she was her maid and that she… abandoned us.”
“Chiudi il becco…” I muttered in a whisper. “Maledizione…”
“Gods, that’s… horrible,” the young woman said, changing her expression.
“Well, it's the past. Donna took care of me and raised me by herself, and I assure you that it must not be easy to do that, and even more so with a daughter like me,” Maria said amused. “I don't usually give her any trouble, but… she has to put up with me.”
“Mm, I see,” (Y/N) said, tenderly stroking Maria's hair. “I see that I was wrong about her, I'm sorry for doubting your mother.”
“It doesn't matter,” Maria said, putting on a strange expression. “People say horrible things about her, but I know they're lies. My mamma is mentally ill, but that doesn't mean she's not a good person, she really is.”
“Yes, I see,” the pianist said, looking back, without seeing me. “If you say so, I believe you…”
“Forgive her if she was abrupt with you,” my daughter said, apologizing for my aggressive attitude. “She's just very lonely. I'm convinced that her character will improve when she meets someone.”
“Mm, maybe, but being alone isn't that bad, you know? I am too,” the young woman said.
“Oh, really?” the little girl asked. “That's interesting…” she murmured, with a tone that forced me to intervene. “Wouldn't you like to meet someone?”
“Well, I…”
“Ahem,” I cleared my throat, walking nervously towards them. (Y/N) looked at me briefly, immediately lowering her head. “It's time, isn't it?”
“Mm, sì, mamma,” Maria said, getting off the stool.
The young pianist stood up with a friendly gesture.
“Your daughter has been great, as always, my lady,” the young woman said, not daring to look at me. “It's a pleasure to teach her.”
“You don't have to be that formal. You can call her Donna, vero, mamma? Maria said, with a slightly strange voice.
“I guess,” I said reluctantly, making the girl laugh nervously.
“W-Well, Donna then,” (Y/N) whispered, with a shy laugh.
“Mamma, do you know that (Y/N) is also alone? What a coincidence, huh?” the girl asked, comically tugging at my dress, putting the stupid villager in a tight spot.
“Maria,” I said in a dark voice. I didn't know why, but that comment made me blush.
“Don't worry, Donna, your daughter is adorable, she just says what she thinks,” the young woman said, picking up the scores.
“Ma, mamma, are you going to let her go?” Maria insisted, making me very nervous. “You should be nice and invite her to tea. She’s been coming here for almost a month.”
“Maria…” I hissed nervously, while (Y/N) laughed again, shaking her head. “Stop annoying her, I’m sure she’ll have better things to do.”
“T-Truth be told,” the pianist said, arching her eyebrows. “I could use some tea, if it’s not too much trouble.”
“Ugh, okay,” I muttered, threatening with my daughter my gaze making her fled with Angie.
That was the beginning of a strange routine. After piano lessons, (Y/N) started to stay with us for a while, having tea, helping Maria with her homework…
Over time, I couldn't say that that stupid girl started to catch my attention, but I did stop thinking that she was... well, stupid. She was a kind, funny girl, who made Maria and Angie laugh, and she was kind to me, kinder than anyone ever was, no one, not even Helga.
I couldn't help but notice a certain conspiracy in my little girl's words and actions, hinting several times at how lonely her poor mother was when I wasn't around, or telling me directly that (Y/N) was single too.
I couldn't blame her for wanting to have what she never had, for wanting another mother, but... it was simply impossible, it would never be possible, although deep down, that pianist girl caught my attention more than I would like to admit.
“Well, I better go, thank you very much for the tea, Donna,” (Y/N) said, after an afternoon of games with Angie and the girl, something of which I was only a spectator. “See you tomorrow, huh, girls?” she said amused, high-fiving Maria and Angie.
“Hey, but it's really late,” my daughter commented, looking out the window. “Hey, (Y/N), why don't you stay for dinner?”
“Oh, for dinner?” the young woman asked blinking and looking for an answer in me. “W-well, I…”
“Don't listen to her,” I said quickly, putting a warning hand on Maria's shoulder.
“Mamma,” the little girl protested, breaking away from my grip while (Y/N) smiled, picking up her coat. “I'm trying to help you.”
“Who asked you for help, brat? Basta,” I hissed sternly but nervously.
“Well… it's true that it's late,” (Y/N) said, oblivious to my reprimands, looking at me shyly. “Maybe it's not a bad idea.”
“Of course it’s not,” Maria said, freeing from my reprimand and taking the young pianist by the hand. “Come, sit down, did you know that la mia mamma cooks like an angel? You'll see.”
“Maria!” I growled, clenching my fists. “What are you...?”
“Show her that what I say is true, vai, Donna,” my daughter said, pushing me by the legs.
I had no choice but to obey, going down to the kitchen to prepare that improvised dinner.
“Mm, where's Maria?” I asked dryly, leaving the food on the table, a table that was only occupied by (Y/N), who looked at me amused, shrugging.
“She told me that she wasn’t hungry and she wanted to leave us alone, you know, so that we could talk about adult stuff.”
“Oh, questa bambina…” I lamented, understanding her intentions.
“I think she's set us up, hasn't she?” the young woman joked, while I, exhausted, served her some wine.
“I'm sorry, I don't know what she was thinking,” I said, apologizing for Maria's behavior. Oh, yes, that girl would get a deserved scolding.
“It doesn't matter, it might be good to get to know each other a bit better,” (Y/N) commented. “Um…” she said, frowning as she saw how, clumsily, I handled my black veil to eat. “Um… Donna, that's not necessary. You don't need it, you can trust me.”
“You'll get scared,” I said nervously, paralyzed.
“No, I won't,” she said, with a lower voice, somewhat trembling.
It was absurd to continue with that nonsense, the best thing would be to scare that stupid girl away so she never came back and stopped… constantly sneaking into my thoughts. With a slow gesture I took off my veil, refusing to see her expression.
“Mm, wow…” the young woman sighed, with a smile that I couldn't interpret. “It's true, you two are exactly the same.”
“Don't pretend. You know I'm horrible,” I said, gripping the fork tightly.
“No, you're not… Let's see… what have you prepared for me?” the girl said, ignoring my hisses and taking a look at the dinner. “Everything looks great.”
“Pici all'amatriciana,” I murmured distrustfully.
“Oh, well, let's check if it's as good as it looks,” she said, rubbing her hands and starting to eat, without erasing that smile from her face.
At first it was a tense, silent dinner, only interrupted by (Y/N)'s praises. Everything seemed wonderful and perfect to her, even… even my face. Little by little, I suppose thanks to the wine, the conversation began to flow naturally. It seemed unlikely, but that girl and I had a lot in common and we even… we even laughed, laughed a lot.
I realized why Maria was so obsessed with her. She was a wonderful girl, kind, funny… and terribly beautiful too.
“I had a great time,” the young woman said with a tender smile as I walked with her to the door. “Really.”
“Yes, um… me too, (Y/N),” I said in a low voice, with a strange blush on my cheeks.
“You know what? I think I now understand your daughter’s insistence on me getting to know you,” she commented distractedly, looking at the floor, turning her ankle on it. “You are a very special woman, Donna.”
“Yes, special is the word,” I said suspiciously, crossing my arms.
The girl laughed, shaking her head and putting a hand on my arm.
“No, what I mean is that… well, I don't regret having gotten to know you,” she whispered in a low voice, leaving behind her words, an awkward moment of silence.
“M-Me neither,” I stammered unintentionally, smiling genuinely.
“See you,” the girl said, removing her hand from my arm with a tender smile, suddenly stepping back. “Oh, bye girls,” she said, waving her hand and looking upstairs, where Angie and Maria were discreetly spying.
“Ciao!” they said in unison when I closed the door, sighing and glancing sideways at my daughter and the doll.
“Cazzo…” I hissed, quickly climbing the stairs while those two mischievous girls fled to their room. “Hey, you two!”
“Oh, mamma, I was going to sleep,” Maria said, putting on her pajamas in a hurry.
“No, young lady, what were you thinking?” I asked, annoyed by the trick, with my hands on my hips. “Who taught you to conspire like that?”
“Um…” the girl murmured, looking unintentionally at Angie, who hid under the sheets. “I only did it for you, mamma, so that you are not alone anymore.”
“Oh, cavolo…” I lamented, with a hand on my forehead. “Maria, tesoro, you don't have to decide those things for me, do you hear me? They are adults’ matters.”
“I know but… I think you two get along wonderfully,” the girl said with an almost pleading voice. “And you two are alone…”
“Maria…”
“Besides, dinner was a complete success, you even took off your veil,” she said with an amused smile, climbing into bed while I reluctantly tucked her in. “Although you have to improve your conversation, you're very clumsy, mamma.”
“That I’m…?” I asked, feigning offense. “Well, it doesn't matter.”
“Don't you like (Y/N)? Not even a little?” Maria asked in a sleepy voice, rubbing her eyes.
“Um, I… W-Well I… yes, I like her,” I admitted embarrassed, with a sob. “But tesoro, that's not…”
“She likes you, she speaks very well of you,” she sighed, exhausted, closing her eyes. “Mamma.”
“Mm?”
“If I could go back in time and choose… I would like (Y/N) to be my other mother…” she said in a sleepy whisper, without really being aware she had said it.
I sighed, moved by her words and approached to kiss her on the forehead, thoughtful.
“Mm, I'm not surprised that you want it, tesoro... (Y/N) is... wonderful.”
Admitting that I had feelings for (Y/N) took me longer than I thought, but I couldn't help it. Without wanting to, knowing that there would never be another chance to feel love, to believe in it, I did it, I fell in love with her, madly.
Dinners were common, laughter, too. Sometimes we were alone and sometimes Angie and Maria accompanied us, making the laughter increase more and more. I began to wish for those visits, to get sad when that girl left. There was tension between us, I could notice it, I could notice her bright gaze in mine, silent pauses in which neither of us knew what to say.
Too much pressure and I was too much of a coward.
“You have to do it, mamma,” my little girl told me, while I waited for (Y/N) to arrive, walking around the living room and shaking my head.
“I can't do it…” I sighed, rejecting her proposition again.
“If you don't tell (Y/N) how you feel about her, she'll never know, imagine if she meets someone,” the girl said walking exactly like me.
“It's not that easy, Maria, you'll realize when you're older,” I said in a dark, nervous voice.
“I don't want to lose the opportunity to have another mom just because you're a coward!” the girl protested, nervous, impatient.
I turned around abruptly, gritting my teeth and crouching down next to my daughter, grabbing her by the collar of her dress.
“You think I don't know!? Huh?” I screamed furiously while my daughter, scared, covered herself with her hands.
“Mamma,” she said trembling, making me react.
“Gods… tesoro, I'm sorry,” I said, placing her dress and caressing her cheek.
Maria nodded slowly, comforting my nerves with a tender hug.
“I don't know how to do it, I don't know how to tell her that… that I love her,” I murmured, with the girl's warm hands in mine, controlling my madness.
“Calm down, mamma, I'll think of something,” she said, giving me a kiss on the cheek and going to the door, since (Y/N) had already arrived.
The smiles danced between us again. I had long since gotten used to staying in the living room while (Y/N) taught Maria, to watch her fingers caress the keys, to see her beautiful and tender face, the incredibly sweet way she treated my baby…
“Well, very well, mate,” (Y/N )said when Maria showed her what she had learned. “I think we can move on to something more complicated.”
“Yeah, hey, (Y/N),” Maria said, glancing at me out of the corner of her eye. “I thought… I've never heard you play… you know, a whole song. I'm sure my mamma would really like to hear you.”
“Would her?” the young woman asked, looking at me with blushing cheeks.
I looked at her and nodded slowly, tilting my head.
“Mm, okay, well… let me see…” the girl said, searching through her folder of music. “Let's see… Oh, what do you think of this one? It has your name on it,” (Y/N) said, handing a sheet to my daughter, who looked at it carefully.
“Oh, yeah, this one is perfect,” Maria said with wide eyes, looking at me over the paper with a knowing smile.
“Ahem, well…” (Y/N) coughed as Maria stood up to sit next to me.
“Di niente,” my daughter whispered with a discreet clearing of the throat, making me frown.
“Cosa?” I asked, silenced by a nudge.
“Shh… ascolta, mamma.”
The music started to play, and I recognized it immediately.
“Ave Maria…”  (Y/N) began to sing, letting me discover her beautiful voice, the most beautiful I had ever heard. “Gratia plena… Ave, ave Dominus…”
My mind immediately transported itself to several decades ago, before Mother Miranda, before the Black Gods, when I was just a girl, a tormented girl. Yes, I remembered those times when villagers were allowed to profess the faith they chose as long as they lived with the dark deities.
They were difficult times, but nothing compared to my current life.
I remember my family singing that song at Christmas, on special occasions. My mother, my father, my little sister, my grandparents… all of us together, like a vision of what once was and never came back.
I couldn't help but let a tear run down my face as I remembered, as I imagined what would have become of me if Miranda had never been so ambitious, if my life hadn't changed, if my body hadn't changed and Maria had never been born.
No, Maria wasn't a mistake, she was the best thing that ever happened to me, my little laughing baby who wondered where her mother was, what had happened to her.
I regret many things, my little Maria, but not having you as a daughter.
I remembered those sleepless nights with inconsolable cries, I remember losing my nerves, my mind, and I remembered… I remembered how I rocked my little Maria, how I sang to her to make her fall asleep in my arms, how I sang that song to her, that Ave Maria, by Schubert…
Damn clever girl, she knew it, she knew that the melody, those words in Latin would touch my soul. I'm proud of you, tesoro.
Slowly, unable to move voluntarily, I got up from the couch while (Y/N) played and sang, approaching her, sitting next to her on the stool. She looked at me, still singing, but smiling.
I looked at the keys, bringing my hand closer to them and looking for a sign to continue. The young woman nodded, with a tender smile.
“Nunc et in hora mortis…” we sang at the same time while playing the keys. It had been a long time since I had done it. “Et in hora mortis nostrae… Ave… Maria…”
“Great!” Maria said, clapping enthusiastically along with Angie.
I paid no attention to her, my eye were fixed on (Y/N)'s and hers on mine.
“Wow, Maria told me you didn't know how to play it,” she whispered after a tense moment, without moving from my uncomfortable proximity.
“W-Well, I don't know as much as you… I'm quite rusty,” I said with a honeyed, but nervous voice.
“Angie, let's go,” Maria said, looking at me and winking, taking the doll's hand that was protesting in a childish way.
“I-I used to sing this to Maria as a lullaby,” I said, daring to break that silence. “It brings back memories to me.”
“It must have been very difficult to raise a girl on your own, right?” (Y/N) commented, playing nervously with her hands.
“Yes, it was but… it was worth it,” I said with a smile, looking at the corner where Maria ran off to.
“Yes, of course, she's an amazing girl, Donna,” the young woman said, looking away.
“Yes, I… (Y/N) I…” I stammered, with a cold sweat running down my forehead, hitting the keys unintentionally. “I'm sorry, I… I want to tell you that… when you're here I… I feel, I feel like smiling again, and seeing you leave… It makes me sad.”
The girl laughed embarrassed, lowering her gaze but letting me continue and gain enough courage to extend my trembling hand to hers, which she let me do, interlacing our fingers.
“I would understand if you said no but… I don't know, (Y/N), maybe… maybe you'd like… not to leave again.”
“Mamma! Don't tell her that! It's creepy!” Maria, who was, of course, spying, shrieked.
“Oddio… go to your room!” I shrieked nervously without taking my hand off (Y/N)'s.
“Donna,” the pianist said, putting a hand on my cheek, turning my face towards hers. “Do you want me to stay? With you?”
“I… yes…” I said looking down, something I couldn't really do, since her hand prevented me from doing so. “I want you to stay… with me, with us and…”
I couldn't continue speaking, since her lips collided with mine without warning, kissing me deeply, slowly, in a sweet and addictive way.
Without wanting to do so, I pulled away, blinking confused, looking at her sweet smile, her eyes shining as she looked at me.
“I'm in love with you, (Y/N),” I finally confessed, throwing myself back into her slow, wet kisses, into her laughter that bounced off my lips, tickling them.
“You're a wonderful woman, Donna Beneviento,” (Y/N) whispered. “I'm crazy about you… And… well, I wouldn't mind staying with you. Well, I would like that you and Maria… were my family…”
“Really?”
“Really”
“Great!” Maria shrieked, running into (Y/N)'s arms, catching her off guard. “See, mamma? It wasn't that hard.”
“Oh, taci,” I said amused, shaking my head.
“It's the happiest day of my life,” my daughter said, hugging us both. “I love you!”
“Hey, come on, stop bothering,” I said, lowering her to the floor lovingly.
“Certo... I have to talk to Angie... my little sibling is getting closer...”
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starmage-constellar ¡ 2 days ago
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ok im not putting this in tags because this is too important to me but basically i got into vocal synths and stuff like. 2018-2019 ish. and the first non-miku synth i found out about was xingchen/stardust and i didn't even know anything about like, the chinese language or anything like that but i just really liked space aesthetics. and i also thought she was just so gorgeous and stuff but anyways xingchen basically became my #1 fave synth for a while
but then i had this phase in like 2020 where i was OBSESSED with korean media and so i found out about UNI and seeu and naturally iwas like "tch... seeu's overrated UNI'S MY GIRL. SEND POST!!" and i scraped youtube for as much uni content as i could (in english because i was lazy) and so UNI became one of my faves too
now you might be sensing a pattern here where im insane about the more obscure vocal synth voices. and so of course. at some point. i find xin hua. and her design was like. It Spoke To Me. and then i listened to some popular songs with her and i fell in love. and just- everything about her? i love her so much? and now she's literally my number one all time favorite vocaloid no questions asked no competition no nothing she beats out your faves inmy brain. Xin Hua is my Girl.
that being said. this fanart. as simple as it is. incited a very emotional reaction out of me and ive never felt this way towards any sort of vocaloid fanart in the world. and i feel like maybe this piece was crafted for me to find In This Moment. thank you asker thank you op thank you universe for aligning the stars. this fanart is going on the fridge in my brain. do you SEE THEM. DO YOU SEE MY GIRLS HANGING OUT TOGETHER RIGHT THERE??? THOSE ARE MY GIRLS THEY MADE ME WHO I AM TODAY. AND XIN HUA MY DAUGHTER MY LOVE MY BELOVED SHES IN THE CENTER OF IT ALL.
could you draw uni or xin hua or xingchen please? :)
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All three are friends, dont @ me
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boygirlctommy ¡ 2 years ago
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oh my god i had a dream that i was constructing this huge convoluted theory that hooty was philip wittebane and it was supported by canon
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passthroughtime ¡ 5 months ago
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yagami, WHY do you have to be such a bitch around kuwana. i'm going to strangle you.
(P.S.: he didn't tell kuwana that tesso said not to feel bad about it. obviously.)
#kuwagami#judge eyes#nah the best thing here is that yagami fucking KNOWS already that kuwana is not a piece of shit#he can admit to other people that yeah kuwana really cares about people. he knows that kuwana probably feels bad AND he is correct about it#and when he. when he fucking. SEES him. he starts being a bitch. amazing.#yagami stop being a little hater challenge FAILED!!!#damn you know we all see that kuwana annoys yagami out of spite and while it CAN be true under some circumstances>#(like. trying to weasle his way into yagami's investigation. you know. and the flirting. obviously.)#but as i see it yagami is no better. his default state is being a bitch so of course he is bitchy to kuwana as well#but he can't switch it off and just. acts so immature that kuwana has no other option than to do the same#guess who's having more common sense out of these two actually. the answer may shock you#anyway if you're interested why my fics are being written so slow it's because i'm picking apart canon events to see if i missed something#uhm I GUESS!#this one i've thought about for a while but it's now relevant for the update so i came back here and just. just had to post it you know.#also yeah i kinda dug my own grave with picking yagami's disguise here because i haven't stopped laughing until he took it off#“no kuwana of course i made sure rk wouldn't know it's me i had THE BEST disguise even my friends wouldn't know it's me”#though who's kuwana to judge. he just changed his jacket and went eehhh good enough#these two idiots deserve each other. fucking hate them#putting letters together one word at a time
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smolbeandrabbles ¡ 9 months ago
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From the mind that brought you:
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Comes another anime/motorsport crossover:
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invisiblegarters ¡ 2 days ago
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Heads up that this contains very light information about the THK novelization.
I can't say I agree with a lot of this.
I feel like this is essentially turning on a romance channel and then complaining about all the romance. I get that it can be frustrating to want more and then not get it, but I don't feel like these shows ever promised us that. Kidnapped trailer made it very clear that it was mostly going to be about romance with some action on the side (as well as taking every opportunity possible to get Ohm half naked, thumbs up show). Only Friends mock trailer basically gave us everything we needed to put the pieces of the ending together, not to mention Jojo said it like four times. Khaotung spoiled the SandRay endgame before the show had even aired, lol. The Heart Killers trailers are much the same.
And Jojo is once again on Twitter telling us exactly what he's doing. If people choose not to believe him or to expect something different anyway, that's not his or the show's fault. This is supposed to be 10 Things I Hate About You with guns. Did you watch 10 Things I Hate About You and get surprised that Patrick and Kat wound up together in the end? That Bianca and Cameron became a couple? That the story mostly focused on the romance between them? It's a romcom. Hell, even the grittier version of Jojo's romance with guns had the main trio all end up together (even if I was so upset that my unexpected fave didn't make it that I couldn't actually enjoy that the first time I watched)! This isn't a phenomenon that happens only with BL - most romances have the main couple stay together even when they really really shouldn't. It's a staple. No one has to like it but it shouldn't be a surprise.
There's also been a lot of chatter about how Jojo wanted to break up the couples in OF and couldn't because of capitalism and the awful fangirlies, but I really don't think that was the case. I have looked for anything where he says that he wanted to work with no couples at all, and all I can find is him saying that he knew he wanted Mark and Neo for Nick and Boston from the beginning.
And considering they were the only non paired couple (despite Neo's best efforts, lol), that makes a lot of sense when you consider that they were also the only couple in the show to break up. I think it's less that Jojo was being forced into using cps and more that there were always meant to be two endgame couples from the beginning. People just took the Nick and Boston casting and Jojo's comments about them and ran with them to fit their own narrative. Now full disclosure, I have had to base this mostly on interviews - I don't have a twitter account so searching there is rough for me. If there is something on there that contradicts me, please bring it to my attention. I have zero problems admitting when I'm wrong. :D
Now as for THK, is it going to be good? This might get me in some hot water which I do generally try to avoid, lol, but I've read the novel so no. I have to say that for me personally I don't think it will turn out to be something I am into, not even as a turn my brain off and enjoy the pretty and ridiculous (which is what I do with Kidnap, incidentally, and I am having a great time even though I've been missing Title and would love him to come back and be hilarious) kind of way. But do I think that's going to be the fault of pair brands or the fangirlies? No. It's more because Jojo plays favorites with his actors, and always has. The ones he likes best get the best characterization and more stuff to do in general. Pretty much without fail. It's something I've noticed about his shows for a while now and it's easier to ignore in a show that is more of an ensemble (unless one of the ones that he's ignoring is someone you personally enjoy), but this isn't an ensemble show. I think there are shades of this bias already in the trailer, and if the novel matches up to the show as accurately as people expect, well. It will be even more obvious from the first episode exactly who this show is a vehicle for, and it ain't a pair at all.
That said, even if this annoys me personally, if it winds up as I expect I will just not watch. That's the only power I have here, and I'm okay with that. It's Jojo's thing and I really don't feel l have the right to tell him he shouldn't be doing it. Not every show is for me, and frankly if I was getting sick of GMMTV as a whole I would just stop tuning in. There are other companies that are rising up and doing their thing, and they are producing content I enjoy. There are other countries producing QL that I love. And I'm lucky I guess in that even though I enjoy a show that explores deeper themes or points out injustices or has something it absolutely wants to say (there are more I'm sure but a few that come to mind off the top of my head are Not Me, and I know you don't like it but The Eclipse (knowing the background of that one makes the anger in it really transparent to me), The Warp Effect (not a BL really but counting it anyway, and actually hilariously this is a great example of a show that I was annoyed with having a pat ending. But my annoyance doesn't change anything, or make what was being done less apparent. It just means that I wanted something else and that's okay but it's not their fault I didn't get it), my bread and butter is actually characters. I love thinking about why characters do what they do and dissecting the shit out of their motivations and reactions. Gimme a complex character over a complex plot any day. Not that we can't have both (and the ideal show does), but even if we do I'm always gonna focus more on characters. So in the end shows like Only Friends work for me because there's a lot to unravel there on a character level, although as I already said a lot more for some than others. Maybe that makes me a pleb or will get me judged as unintelligent but I've looked deep into my soul and decided that's okay, lol. 
And it's not that I think that these shows (or my faves) and what they do shouldn't be criticized or anything like that, that's absolutely silly. People have all the right in the world to criticize. I just think that it sometimes reaches a point where it starts to feel like people are watching this stuff just to get mad. And honestly I just think that that sounds miserable. The best lesson I ever learned was that when it comes to my leisure activities, if I'm not having a good time it's okay to quit.
I'm not expecting agreement; I think the two of us look at things very differently on the whole, and that's fine. I just wanted to add my two cents. I absolutely think that stuff is being done within the genre you would love, I just think that GMMTV is not really the place to find it, nor do I really think they ever promised that.
Hey,
I'm not 100% sure how this works. Also this is more of an opinion than a question. I just feel the need to brain dump. You are under no obligation to reply. 😁
I fear that First and Khaotung are being wasted at/by GMMTV. They're both stellar actors and seem to have the sensibilities to tackle more serious material.
I feel like coming off Not Me, the themes in The Eclipse kinda went over my head. My fear was and still is that I didn't understand all the nuances. And that's why I felt like the show was lacking. Also I think the very first preview set it up as an entirely different show (more supernaturalmystery/thriller) in my head, so there was a disconnect there as well.
Their next project was Moonlight Chicken where both of them shined as actors but negligibly as a BL pairing. Having said that, they seem to be on very solid ground in the BL fandom - I am referring to their fan meets.
Only Friends was a masterclass of acting as far as FirstKhaotung were concerned (i was all about Ray and Sand), but I think the overall reputation as show that fell flat on its face overshadowed or at least took away (for me) from the gravity of FK.
And now we're here. With The Heart Killers and I am very wary of how Ota all going down. I see that the final trailer got over million views and I'm happy for them, but based on I think the absolute travesty that was OF, my expectations for this show are on the ground.
I really want more of an insight into how projects are picked up and distributed inside GMMTV (if you ha e any, I'm dying to know). I feel like they would benefit greatly from being on a show like PS I Hate You or something like Peaceful Property.
It feels like they're backsliding in terms of material given. Which I am sure is a) not their fault and b) me possibly being weird and dramatic in the wee hours of the morning. But I wanted to get it off my chest and I was reading your previous reviews when I felt, and then gave into the impulse to write to you.
Also I'm a MaxTul girly too and somehow, you made me want to give Make it Right another chance.
Have a great week ahead and keep up the absolutely exceptional work! ❤️
NIHILISTIC! It's great to hear from you! And thank you for the compliments!
TW for girlies out there who are not Nihilistic: this post will contain criticisms of The Heart Killers trailer. Read at your peril, delicate hearts!
I'll go backwards to save the biggest stuff for last. If you write anything about Make It Right, please tag me! @bengiyo and I always give a little DJ air horn to each other when we've nabbed another one into the broader cultural reconsideration of this AMAZING show. MaxTul, man. Nobody beats them! (Okay, almost, Tul admits he wasn't the strongest actor, but. We'll let it slide, dahling!) Chemistry, humor, pride representation, everything, they're great. I yelped when I saw them in Triage!
Okay, so you are a FirstKhao girlie, and you're worried about what The Heart Killers bodes. (Out of transparency, I have The Heart Killers tag filtered because of Only Friends PTSD. I'm gonna filter my own post!) For you, Nihilistic, I just watched the trailer for it.
I will get to all your questions about the GMMTV model in a moment.
Now, out of even MORE transparency, I am watching the MESS that is Kidnap right now, and listen, it's NOT GOOD. I'm fucking not even writing about it anymore, I'm just reblogging the sessy gifs. I am watching it to support Ohm Pawat, and am hoping that this partnership with Leng Thanaphon will hopefully lead to better scripts.... somewhere. (Or at least, better scripts for Ohm at a place like One31 or Channel 3. I also hope Ohm keeps up his anti-branded pair stance, but if GMMTV forces him to pair permanently with Leng, it won't be a fucking surprise, and more on that below.)
To focus specifically on THK for a sec: the THK trailer evoked a lot of what's gone utterly wrong in Kidnap for me. I think writing Thai BL/Series Y scripts to be different, fresh, and innovative, is just going to be really fucking hard, especially for stories featuring branded pairs that MUST end up together in the end. Because we, the viewers, KNOW that they MUST end up together in the end, what kind of mystery and conflict can a script convincingly evoke to keep us, the viewers, engaged and interested in the drama?
A few of us Ohm girlies were excited that Kidnap could have had non-romantic plot points (CRIME!!!) to drive concurrently with a romance plot. There are Series Y that have done this BEAUTIFULLY, particularly Sammon's stories of Manner of Death and Triage.
I'm sorry to say that I didn't get that from the THK trailer, and that THK smells a lot like Kidnap to me. The trailer itself is giving an indication that the "jobs" these guys have as double agents are going to be compromised due to them falling in love. And after the debacle that was Jojo Tichakorn's Only Friends -- a show premised on the exploration of mean, icky, really horny humans, a great place to start an interesting show! -- knowing that THK will HAVE to end up in a romantic place, with FK and JoongDunk being in memorable and memeable entwinements... that's a lot to ask of a show that already isn't making sense by drive, emotion, and tone in its trailer alone. What matters more to these characters? Their work, or their need to be in monogamous relationships? Seems like the latter to me by way of the trailer, which makes me wonder what the point of the plot is. (Joong's chest, probably.) (Gahddayum.)
(I haven't watched the latest episode of Jack & Joker, btw, but I understand that THIS WEEK's episode is ALSO going through something similar, with dead-end and uncommitted plot points all to get to a kiss. Oy.)
To summarize these points and to touch at your question about how GMMTV chooses scripts: GMMTV has an economic model to sell in giving happy endings to their branded pairs, which I wrote about at length in my Old GMMTV Challenge rewatch of The Eclipse. No matter where a script goes, the ending must be memorable and monogamous to satisfy the retweeting hunger of the branded pairs' fandoms, in order for GMMTV's artists to increase online engagement and to maintain earned media values to sell products.
The wonderful @flowerbeasblog noted to me recently that Tha Sataporn, the CEO of GMMTV, said in an interview that as the productions of Series Y in Thailand continues to increase, there is a greater need for more scriptwriting talent across this niche genre, creating competition for more excellent writing. (By comparison, in the States, when streaming services like Netflix and Hulu starting commissioning more original series just about a decade ago, the demand for scriptwriters and excellent writing also went up by incredible scale -- only to come crashing down recently with pandemic and strike-related losses in revenue.) GMMTV's recently announced script competition, Y Find, updated itself last week with a notice that the company would need more time to sift through scripts to judge. In other words: the demand for creative plots is so high at this company that they are literally fielding entries from the general public.
At the same time, Tha Sataporn has been blunt in indicating that "good shows" are not the priority of his GMMTV, and that talent, management, and engagement are his indicators of success. So, economically -- as long as a show hits that happy ending, and gets the girlies excited online with commentary and purchasing power, then the studio has won, in GMMTV's eyes.
ULTIMATELY, Nihilistic: what we are dealing with regarding your concern, as fans and/or critics of Series Y shows, is a conflict of values, among critical fans like ourselves, other fans who only watch shows for romance and shipping, and the economic bottom lines of the studios/agencies themselves. Some of us just want narratively good scripts, like Bad Buddy or He's Coming To Me. Others are content with having a show end with their fave pairs confirmed together in the end, no matter the process of how they got there. Those are different values we hold in watching shows. I appreciate that while you're a fan of the FK branded pair, that you want stronger scripts for them. I do, too, but that's not a value that every fan -- and GMMTV itself -- holds. And I believe that's why we've been seeing more and more mediocre scripts from that studio in particular.
I actually want to note maybe something positive about FirstKhao. Other than The Eclipse, it seems like they haven't been locked into high school or university settings. Only Friends, Moonlight Chicken -- these are shows that show First's and Khao's characters as young adults, and THK is going there, too. I hope they can avoid the university settings as they continue to work.
Is stellar acting wasted at GMMTV? Oh, yes. Besides First and Khao, who I truly think are good actors, we have Gun Atthaphan, Nanon Korapat, and Ohm Pawat -- these three guys are on my list of the best Thai actors out there who have done BL, and they haven't had great scripts in years. (Gun, arguably, has had the best pickings of decent shows recently in Cooking Crush and The Trainee, but they weren't high art; and Nanon's Dirty Laundry was the last Jojo script I was truly impressed by.) All three of these guys were in MOVIES at one point. Those ambitions, on behalf of these actors by GMMTV, seem to have gone by the wayside in preference for a huge economic push to boost branded pair-based series insteads, with their plot holes and guaranteed romances.
I hope the genre's tide turns for the sake of quality scripts, especially at GMMTV, but my hopes are low for this agency at the moment. My joy in Thai shows recently has been in watching past shows for my OGMMTVC. I've been on a lakorn kick lately, having watched The Miracle of Teddy Bear and I'm looking forward to watching Khun Chai soon. Other agencies and studios, like One31 and Channel 3, are breathing down GMMTV's neck and producing more interesting shows, sometimes with branded pairs and sometimes not. Triage only came out two years ago, and that show's trilogy (along with Manner of Death) will end with this year's airing of Spare Me Your Mercy, starring the very likely one-time pair of Tor Thanabob and JJ (Jaylerr) Krissanapoom, two gigantic artists in Thailand who are circling BACK towards the much smaller genre of Series Y for SMYM's sake. I have VERY high hopes and expectations for that show -- and that show is well out of the purview of GMMTV.
I think what you're smelling about the THK trailer is right, Nihilistic -- to me, the trailer isn't cohesive, and jumps already to its forgone conclusion of a romantic end. Unfortunately, for those of us familiar with Jojo Tichakorn's work, we know that if he was given more leeway, he'd likely come up with something more interesting. But now that he has to work with branded pairs -- who are shipped in the eyes of their fan beholders -- he's got a lot less room to be creative and interesting, which ultimately stifles the otherwise excellent acting we'd see from these young men.
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evilestscientist ¡ 2 years ago
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I had a dream where I found a secret CIA room with a bunch of newspapers with various events and celebrity deaths that havent happened yet and I found one with today's date on it announcing the tragic death of damiano david. like from italian band maneskin.
so I escaped the secret base (which I found by going through a door in a public bathroom btw), found him in the streets and held him in my arms as he bled out. he was actually fine with being shot by the CIA
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chocobox ¡ 10 months ago
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listening to kashka from baghdad by kate bush but through the lens of being a trans gay man. do you understand what i am saying. it reminds me of when i was too little to understand that i could be a gay man myself, so i just latched really hard onto gay ships because it was the first time i had ever discovered feelings of romantic fulfillment. i never felt love like it was love until i started to see those feelings through the context of being a gay man. i felt like an outsider looking in on the life that could make me happy, but i didn't realize that's what it was... and kashka from baghdad feels like that experience to me.
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weirdcrocodilelady ¡ 1 year ago
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I GOT MY ADHD MEDS REFILLED AND I’M BACK ON MY BULLSHIT
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akkivee ¡ 2 years ago
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someone on my feed has been talking about kuukou’s unwillingness?? i suppose is the word, to be in the spotlight, especially in regards to this fpmtr➕ chapter
like kuukou functions as if this isn’t his story, he’s not the protagonist of it; moving behind the scenes to ensure jyushi gets his chance to shine on stage and affirm himself, pushing hitoya out of the way to take an attack because he probably could sense hitoya needed to be on that stage facing jakurai, following ichiro’s lead and helping when he asks and it’s interesting to see it reinforced so often
#this is vee speaking#shout out to the bat stans on my feed crying and professing their love for kuukou lmao btch me too holy shit#the brain is making this akin to ‘the buddha guides us all’ that was brought up the other day#and the person on my feed had brought up kuukou’s a hero on the fringes of the story almost like the gojos or all mights in shounen stories#the person who moves stories forward but the outcome is largely based on the protagonist#(lol i’m filling in blanks on what this person I THINK was trying to say lol so if that doesn’t quite make sense my bad 🙇‍♀️)#the op went on cry that kuukou can be a protagonist too and man i feel that lol#like kuukou is a support character but now i wanna know how much of that is self imposed or instinctual lol#if it’s self imposed why???? because he knows he’s not ready for something???? did someone make him think that way????#but on that vein kuukou’s silently working towards his end goal so i think we just aren’t privy to his story yet#(hence why bb vs bat should happen lol what better way to put kuukou in the spotlight than making him go up against the poster boy lol)#and speaking of hella awesome banquet the martyrdom imagery that had been put on him also came into play with this chapter#the mv is a chock full of mixed catholic buddhism aesthetics#but you could piece together sacrifices made for the betterment of humanity from both religions and it’s been placed primarily on kuukou#pretty neat stuff and still kinda concerned if it’ll go any further than just this chapter lol#c: kuukou👑
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helaintoloki ¡ 3 months ago
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May I request a five x reader where they are living domestically and just being happy and lovey dovey especially experiencing everything they did together while being in the apocalypse, the time commission, stoping the other apocalypses etc (five x Lila doesn’t exist five x Lila doesn’t exist five x Lilia doesn’t-)
a/n: this piece is basically a big fuck you to s4 so enjoy five being happy and domestic with reader and not his own brother’s wife. also five and reader are mentally older adults but physically in their twenties
warnings: language, fluff, mentions of pregnancy
summary: now that the timeline has been fixed and the world is no longer in danger, five can enjoy a peaceful life with you
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The sunlight that bleeds through the curtains is almost blinding as Five begins to stir himself awake. Stretching out his limbs until he hears a satisfying pop, he lets out a sigh and moves to reach out for someone that isn’t there. Your spot in bed is still warm which means you haven’t been gone for long, but Five still rises with a sense of urgency when greeted with your absence. Call it muscle memory from dealing with multiple kidnapping ploys against you or an old habit that just won’t die off after having to remain vigilant when protecting you from the enemy, but the poor boy’s heart always skips a beat when you go missing.
He finds you in the kitchen brewing a fresh pot of coffee, your back to him as you hum along to the radio that plays on the counter and search for Five’s favorite cup in the cabinet. He has to pause and take a breath to remind himself that you’re not in danger, your life of protecting timelines and ending apocalypses is over, and the fresh start you’ve made for yourselves isn’t in any jeopardy. You’re real, you’re alive, and you’re his.
“Morning,” Five softly calls with a careful smile as he rests a hand on the small of your back and presses a tender kiss to your lips.
“Good morning,” you great cheerfully before handing him his cup of coffee. “I didn’t hear you get up. Did I wake you?”
“Not at all,” he assures you before taking a hearty gulp of the hot liquid. After years of being together you know how to make Five’s coffee just the way he likes it and could probably do so in your sleep if asked. Your thoughtfulness is just one of the many traits of yours that have him wrapped around your finger always.
“We need to go grocery shopping,” you note dutifully as you peek your head into the fridge in search of breakfast. Frowning, you announce, “We’re out of eggs, so I guess it’s frozen waffles for breakfast.”
“Why don’t we go out for breakfast today?” Five suggests with an innocent shrug.
“Really? But you hate breakfast places. They can never make your coffee right.”
“I also hate seeing you eat frozen waffles three days in a row,” he reminds you with a wry chuckle. Maneuvering you out of the way, Five closes the fridge shut and gives you a gentle nudge in the direction of your shared bedroom. “Go on, get dressed. You can wear that new dress you bought the other day.”
“You’re right!” You exclaim with an excited gasp and rush off to your room before Five can change his mind. Not that he would, of course. Five would do anything to see you happy after all the shit he’s put you through in your time together. Sometimes he still wonders why you ever agreed to marry him, perhaps a slip of sanity or lack of care for your own wellbeing, but he wasn’t one to complain. He liked living the quiet life with you, and he wouldn’t change it for the world.
~~~
The night air is cool against your bare shoulders as you sit comfortably upon the porch swing and listen to the cicadas sing their evening song. The sun has long since set, but the string of lights that hang above you are enough to allow you to see the pages of your color by numbers book. Beside you, Five sits with a book in one hand while the other rests atop of your legs strewn across his lap. He enjoys sitting in the silence of your company as you remain glued together despite partaking in your own hobbies separately.
“We’ve been married for thirty years,” you state simply, breaking the silence but never once breaking your focus from your coloring book.
“Sure have,” is Five’s thoughtful reply. Setting his book aside, your husband gives your calf a gentle squeeze and turns to look at your concentrated features.
“Not including your siblings, it’s always been just us. Together in the apocalypse, partners under the Commission, husband and wife.”
“Is that a bad thing?” He asks, not quite sure what point you’re trying to make. Are you rethinking the marriage? Are you finally starting to have regrets about marrying him? He watches with bated breath as you set your materials to the side and finally meet his anxious gaze.
“I want to start a family of our own,” you finally confess, nervously fidgeting with your wedding ring as you await his response with hopeful eyes. “I don’t want it to be just us anymore.”
Sighing, Five leans his head back and shuts his eyes as he processes your request. He can’t say he’s surprised by your question; he’s noticed the way you eye babies in public, how you linger just a little too long to admire the window display of the infant clothing store at the mall, how you’ll hold the twins for hours in your arms and refuse to give them back until Diego has to physically pry them from your grasp. It’s only natural for you to feel this way, but that’s not the problem. The problem is Five isn’t exactly sure how he feels about becoming a father.
“I don’t know,” he admits carefully, taking great caution when choosing his next words so as to not upset you. “Having a kid, becoming parents… it changes everything.”
“I know we couldn’t before because there was the Commission and then the multiple apocalypses, and that’s why I never asked. But Five,” you urge gently, shifting to sit yourself up on your knees so you can reach over and take both of his hands in your own, “all of that is done with. We fixed the timeline, and all that end of the world nonsense is over with for good. No one is coming after us anymore or trying to kill me to get to you. We can properly grow old now and have a simple life together, wasn’t that always the goal?”
The boy is silent as he mulls over your speech. You’re completely right; saving the world and resetting the timeline to its proper place in order to ensure you and his siblings could have the lives you deserved was always the end goal. But after spending his entire existence trying to complete that task, he finds it hard to adjust to his new life of normalcy. Perhaps he’s not exactly scared of becoming a parent, but scared of what a baby would mean in the grand scheme of things. It would be proof that his work is truly over now, that he can turn his survival mode off after having it set to fight for so many years, and that’s a big adjustment for someone like him.
But when he looks at your hopeful gaze and sees the way you anxiously worry your lip between your teeth, he realizes that he’ll do anything to give you the happy life you deserve. He brings one of your hands to his lips and holds it tight as he murmurs his answer into the skin of your palm.
“If you think we’re ready, then I’m in.”
“You mean it?” You gasp while doing your best to withhold your excitement. Your eyes are wide and full of hope as Five lets out a soft chuckle before giving you a reassuring kiss.
“We survived the end of the world several times, how scary could raising a baby really be?”
He isn’t given an answer to his hypothetical question as you fling yourself into his arms and assault his face with multiple kisses along his skin. It’s safe to say his answer has eased your anxieties, and the boy can only laugh as you express your gratitude.
“I’m so happy you agree!” You exclaim giddily, your hands coming to rest upon his chest to ground yourself as you then suggest to Five’s surprise, “Let’s start trying tonight!”
“What?”
~~~
“That has to be the tiniest Hargreeves I’ve ever seen,” Klaus gushes adoringly as he takes in the details of the ultrasound photo in front of him. “Look at the little peanut, isn’t it precious?”
“I can’t believe Five is actually going to be a dad,” Allison notes in astonishment as the three of you turn your gaze to see him arguing with Diego over the proper way to baby proof your home while Ben eggs them on and ruins Luther’s efforts at trying to keep the peace. You’re only two months along, but Five is anxious to ensure that everything is perfect for your child’s arrival.
“You know, you might just be the first 65 year-old woman to give birth,” Klaus points out cheekily. “You should be in a world records book or something.”
“Very funny,” you retort sarcastically before taking back the ultrasound photo to hang up on the fridge. You falter for a moment when your eyes remain stuck to photo and your brain works on overdrive to commit the image to memory as best as you can.
“Everything okay?” Viktor asks after noticing the sudden change in demeanor.
“I just can’t believe this is real,” you murmur quietly, blinking back tears that threaten to spill. “After everything we’ve been through and everything we’ve lost, I guess a part of me worries that one day I’ll wake up and this will all have been a dream.”
“I know how that feels,” Allison assures you with a comforting squeeze to your shoulder. “But I promise you this isn’t a dream, and whatever you need we’ll be there.”
“Because you’re family now,” Viktor adds on with a confident nod. “And we look out for family no matter what.”
“Even though at one point in our lives we’ve all thought about killing each other,” Klaus notes humorously before giving you a tight squeeze.
“Everything okay over here?” Five asks, appearing at your side and placing a comforting hand on your back as you all turn your gazes towards the fridge and admire the newest addition to the family.
“Everything is perfect.”
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yandere-daydreams ¡ 8 months ago
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tw - dub/con, afab!reader, cockwarming, medical malpractice, nonconsensual drug use, manipulation, unbalanced power dynamics, and obsessive behavior.
[commissioned piece. donate to palestinians in gaza here.]
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“It really is a shame to lose such a lovely patient.
His hand drifted from your thigh to your hip, rocking you back as you tried to squirm away from him. He was too deep, too big, and you’d been sitting on his cock for too long. Whenever you tried to shift your weight, though, the arm wrapped around your waist would tighten its hold and drag you back into place, leaving your ass slotted against his hips and your cunt struggling to clench around his base. You didn’t know how long he’d kept you like this, but it must’ve been longer than an hour, if not two, three, four. Despite your foggy senses, you could feel slick dripping down your thighs, an empty void in the pit of your stomach where pleasure should’ve been. You could remember hearing that Harper was a good doctor, but that couldn’t be right. Doctors weren’t supposed to make you feel so bad.
“I mean, I know it should be a doctor’s goal to see their patients off as happy and as healthy as can be, but—” He paused, sighed, and you could picture him rolling his eyes, feigning wistfulness as he let out an airy chuckle. “Good, obedient patients can be so rare, especially in a town like this. I’m allowed to mourn the loss of my best charge yet, aren’t I?”
You felt him twitch inside of you, and in search of a distraction, your gaze fell to the collection of papers fanned out over the desk in front of you. You knew you were supposed to be reading them, but the text seemed so impossibly small, and your last round of medication was still clouding your senses, making it hard to focus on much of anything beyond the throbbing in your core, the feeling of his cock stretching you open despite your body’s best attempts to force him out. You could recognize the phrases, signal out words like ‘unfit’ and ‘dependent’ mixed in with the rest of the benign text, but when you tried to put it all together, none of it made sense. It was all you could do to check the boxes Harper pointed to, sign your name on any dotted lines that hadn’t already been filled by his. You could only hope that, when you finished, he’d let you stand up, get off of him, go back to your cozy room with its nice, soft padded walls. You couldn’t imagine having to sleep in his office, again.
“And you’ve been so cooperative, too,” he went on, his chin coming to rest on your shoulder. You felt his lips against the shell of your ear, then your cheek. “Always taking your medication, always following your treatment plans, always coming to our little sessions with an open-mind – the pinnacle of an ideal patient. Honestly, sometimes I think I could tell you to stick your hand in a vat of boiling water, and you’d do it with a smile on your face. All for the sake of your recovery, of course.”
It was him moving, this time – shifting forward until your stomach was pressed against the blunt edge of his desk and he was all-but draped over you, his body pressed flush against yours. You let out a pitchy whine by way of protest, but Harper didn’t seem to notice, only humming as his hand found yours. “Almost done, little mouse. Just one more page.” He was practically cooing as he took you by the wrist, guiding your hand to the bottom of the final page. Two thick, cutting lines occupied most of the available space, his neat signature taking up the first. He brought you to the second, almost daunting in its vacancy, his index finger tapping against the back of your hand. “You remember your name, right? Can you write it for me?”
It was so hard to think, to stay awake, to try and remember a time where he hadn’t been planted so deeply inside of you. “If…” you started, only to trail off. You blinked once, then twice, and did your best to force your tongue to move. “If I do, can I go home?”
Usually, Harper hated it when you talked about the orphanage, about school, about home. You hadn’t meant to, you just wanted to go back to your room, and you moved to correct yourself, to promise that you didn’t want to be anywhere but this hospital, his hospital before he frowned and prescribed you another electrotherapy session, another dose of the small, white pills that left your thoughts blurred and your body hot. But, anything you might’ve been able to spit out died with a breathy laugh, a peck to the corner of your jaw. “Of course,” he purred, rocking his hips gently against yours. “Sign, and I’ll take you home tonight.”
For the first time in weeks, you felt yourself start to smile. Hastily, smudging the ink more than once, you scrawled your name across the brutal line, dropping the pen and going slack against Harper as soon as you were finished. There was another open-mouthed kiss to your throat, then the dip of your shoulder, and he dragged you back onto his lap with a playful squeeze to your thigh, a grin pressed into the crook of your neck. You squirmed unabashedly, now, your hands  graspingly weakly at the arms of his chair in hopes of pulling yourself to your feet, but Harper held you tight. “Where do you think you’re going, little mouse?”
“I need to— You said I could go—”
“Just give me another minute, darling.”
His cock pulsed against the walls of your cunt, and you felt something break open inside of you.
“I want to appreciate this moment before we get you to proper, brand-new home.”
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