#She was saying that her voice was too deep and that she was very conscious of it that she kept trying to explain to her cis girlfriend that
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the-heaminator · 1 year ago
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yvesntul · 6 months ago
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ellie williams x reader ࿐
thank u for 300
18+ minors dni, use of strap, pet names, smut literally idk the word count but it’s longer than my usual work
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‘ ssss .. it feels— ellie .. please— ‘
‘ feels like what, hm ? tell me all about it .. ‘ the tone of ellie’s voice is soft enough to soothe you some more, but deep enough to bring you to unintentionally clench around her. your warm walls smothering her cock, and your eyes watching her move in and out of you as your chest heaves. ‘ feel so full, ‘ you babble and she hissed out a laugh. that’s when you spread your legs wider, feeling comfortable enough to get into the hang of it. you only found yourself suddenly wanting more.
‘ mhm, pussy’s eatin’ my fuckin’ dick up, isn’t she ? i know you’d feel so goddamn good .. ‘ ellie keeps her steady pace, delivering deep, slow, strokes to your cunt before sitting up to lightly massage your calves. she keeps eye contact with you, and even though yours refuse to keep their focus on hers, she doesn’t stop. she doesn’t stop losing herself in you, squeaking with every dirty line leaving her lips. your arms reach out to wrap themselves around her neck, and she easily picks up on your gesture. now hovering directly on top of you, balancing herself on one forearm while her opposite hand grips at the headboard above you, minimizing the weight of her body on yours.
‘ sh-shit— ouuu, ellie ! ‘ for a moment, there’s only silence in the room. besides your minimal breathing and ellie’s small groans that she failed to suppress were the only sounds that could be heard through an echo. both of you bask in one another’s presence while you let the tranquility of the moment steer you of to sea. ‘ h-harder, els .. please. ‘ you lightly tap her shoulder with your fingers to gather her attention, eyes batting rapidly as you try to keep consciousness from the amount of pleasure you were feeling right now.
‘ harder ? baby, you look like you can barely keep your eyes open, ‘ she laughs attentively, looking down at the droplets of sweat beginning to fall down the sides of your face. yeah, she was right, you could barely open your eyes, but you had enough strength to flutter them and give her an annoyed, yet needy, glance. a soft sigh escapes her lips and that’s when she seizes your request, pushing her strap further into you, as deep as it could go and then right back out again, a suckle being left behind. you whine — no, you scream, ‘ oouh— fuck, ellie, just like t-that .. ‘ almost loud enough to send a concerned expression to ellie’s face.
when you claw at her arm she soon realizes it was a scream of pure ecstasy. ‘ ah, shit. yeahyeahyeah, talk to me, baby. you’re takin’ it so fucking good .. ‘ her tone is taunting and well past just casual dirty talk. she was digging deep, verbally and physically, saying shit just to bring a reaction out of you, curious of what she could say and do to make you squirm and sniffle around her. ‘ greedy lil’ pussy. taking me in so easily, you’re bein’ so good to me, princess. ‘
‘ els— oh my god .. r-right there, right there, right there— shit, ellie ! ‘ her words had gone right over your head. too lost in the the way she dips her hips deep into your core to even dare to speak anything more than a string of moans. your lips form a pout, and your eyes roll to the back of your head when you suddenly feel ellie’s tip poking right at your g-spot. which, she proudly didn’t take very long to discover. you didn’t know it yet, but the constant pressure against your womb would be building up soon, creating a rather diabolical sensation for both your mind and body all in one.
‘ where ? right here ? ‘ the question is followed by a strong, but still conscious thrust. slow, yet powerful. ellie now driving herself into you right where you wanted her. ‘ awe, baby, did i find your spot ? like when my dick kisses you right here, don’t you ? ‘ you can’t speak, nor can you begin to fathom why on earth ellie was making you feel so lightheaded. disregarding the pleasure and the present circumstances, you felt alive. you felt like you couldn’t get this amount of euphoria from anything or anyone.
it wasn’t just the movement of her hips, or the nasty serenading words leaving her mouth, or even those angelic eyes that held an untold story. no no, it was the amount of emotion she brought you. the amount of love she’s shown you. the way she held you with such grace and tenderness like you were easy to shatter. it was all too surreal. the feeling, the gestures, the warmth, everything .. she was everything.
‘ faster ! faster, please els— y- you’re so deep .. ‘ you clench around her, your pussy sucking her in more and more as she continues to drive you into shambles. your eyes travel down, focusing on the way she had to pull in and out of you with more force than needed simply because of how hard you were squeezing her. with each passing thrust, you could see her tip poking at your tummy over and over, forming a bulge right below your belly button.
‘ aah, shhhit, gonna’ make me fuckin’ cum, b-baby. ‘ she nervously snickers, trying to hold on as much as she could, and god was it hard. with the friction against her, ellie could almost find herself becoming overwhelmed. there were too many things to focus on, between your expressions, lustrous eyes, and small grunts, she could cum right then as she spoke. ‘ o-oh, so close .. c-close, m’ so close els .. please let m-me cum with you .. ‘
your hands reach the sides of ellie’s face, carefully pulling her in closer for a kiss. you feel her meet you half way, closing the space between you both by kissing you like you were an an antidote she so desperately needed. she tugs on your bottom lip softly, closing her eyes and melting into you as she tries her hardest to bring you both to the finish line.‘ c’mon, baby, c’mon. cum with me— cum all over this dick angel, ‘ ellie unconsciously fastens her hips, sending strong, and now sloppy, thrusts to you. you feel her deep, deep in your stomach. so much that you feel the urge to push against her toned stomach due to the overwhelming power she had over your body, ‘ nah, don’t run. t-take it just how you were. i know you wanna’ let it go .. ‘
‘ ellie .. i’m cumming, baby .. i’m cumming— oh god .. ‘ your eyes slam shut and your swollen clit is caught by ellie’s thumb as she rubs circles over the agitated flesh. the wet squelching sound of your cunt was almost loud enough to drown out your moans as you find yourself shakily wetting up ellie’s strap, ‘ ellie ellie ellie, wai— mmph ! ‘ your legs stutter closed and she opens them right back up, only this time, grabbing onto your hips and fucking you at an angle to carry you all the way to the end.
you push your head back deep into the plushed pillow underneath your neck, bawling your fists as the commotion in your stomach is finally fulfilled. there are tears in your eyes, followed by desire and pleasure — not to mention the creamy noise of your pussy sucking in ellie’s dick with no problem. ‘ y-yyes .. yesyesyes— ellie ! ‘
she’s quiet, or rather focused, concentrating on your trembling figure while feeling her own orgasm begin to pool over rapidly, ‘ fuckin’ christ, ‘ she groans hoarsely, her hips bucking as she’s cumming. ellie’s body nearly smothers your own as she loses her balance, hugging you close as she finishes. she buries her head in the crevice between your neck and shoulder, onto your skin as she tries her best not to go limp.
‘ are you okay .. ? jesus .. yn that was— ‘
‘ so fucking good. ‘
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𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 © 𝐘𝐕𝐄𝐒𝐍𝐓𝐔𝐋 | all rights reserved — do not modify, copy, or plagiarize any of my works.
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possiblyreallyme · 2 months ago
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Once a Beckman girl, always a Beckman girl
warning: very spicey/smutty but no actual penetration, toys (vibrator), size kink if you squint, big dick benn canon.
hello! i got this idea from one of my favorite one piece writer on tumbler, @innerfare!! everyone, go check them out!! thank you so much!!
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"Come on, honey. Don't you wanna come back to my cabin?" Shanks asked drunkenly through his hiccups and wolfish grin, staggering over the countertop to hold onto the wood and wink at you.
You'd giggle, but you shook your head, cleaning the counter when he knocked over a glass of alcohol with his one elbow.
"I'm sorry, sir," You told him with that sweet smile, though you didn't seem very sorry. "I already have plans with your first mate."
Shanks backed off immediately, nodding his head and walking away before you could ask why. Even in his drunken state, he knew it was a complete waste of time to try and woo one of Benn's girls.
Plus, his first mate wasn't one to sleep around, so Shanks knew better than to interfere when he needed a night to relax. He was drunk, not heartless.
"Tough luck," Lucky Roux murmured through his mouthful of meat when Shanks told the table of pirates about the barmaid, not even looking up to console his captain. "No one gets one of Benn's girls."
"Yeah, no shit," The captain murmured with a hiccup, before slouching against the table with a few more, spinning a bottle cap around like a pouty child.
"I just wish we knew what he does to get girls so crazy," Yasopp replied under his breath, though he didn't necessarily care to keep his voice low. Anyone who knew Benn knew he was a charmer, even if he didn't go around flirting as much as his captain.
If only they knew. If only they knew how their Benn could drag his fingers across a lady's skin and make her feel like she was a work of art. How as much as Shanks told him one-night stands and hookups shouldn't last more than 30 minutes, he just can't leave a girl like that.
Was he not supposed to stretch her with his fingers? How was she supposed to fit him if he didn't— while you're at it, doesn't it feel better when you let her ride your face until she's squealing and pulling at your hair? And it would weight much too heavy on his conscious if he left a woman alone in bed when she's tired and sore and in need of some love, when he could put his left-over energy to use and make her a nice meal, maybe give her a massage to ease the ache he caused.
Of course a man like him was so popular with the ladies. He was practically made for women, with how he could memorize your body like the back of his hand, as if he's known you his whole life, but he only just learned your damn name.
He'll coo in that deep voice of his, say things a pirate most certainly shouldn't be saying to someone he'll never see again, with that charming smile on his face and slowly rolling his hips into yours, thumbing at your clit until you've coated the sheets in as much cum as you could give him.
And yet, he's never come across as a player. He isn't a womanizer; he isn't someone like Shanks who can't be trusted to remember his partners names after a week. He's tough as nails and brutal, but to the women whose hearts still throb for the first mate, he was a sweetheart. The type to empathize and sooth when he's just a little too big to fit all the way in your cunt, wiping your tears with kisses and assure you that you've taken more than enough for him to enjoy, so don't feel guilty.
"Benn," You're whining that night, just after you close and the Red Force was snickering when Beckman puts his hand on the small of your back, dwarfing you so intensely you felt your face go hot. You should have fucking guessed that a man with hands bigger than your head had a cock to match.
"Shh, I know, sweetheart. Just relax," He soothed, large fingers parting your labia and pulling up the hood of your clit, circling the little nerve with an ease that made you wonder if he'd done this before with you.
You knew good and damn well you'd remember if a man like this had ever been with you before, but he hadn't even taken his eyes off your face and yet he found your clit almost faster than you could.
You couldn't focus on that though, already fighting off delirium you only thought a cock could bring you, taken by surprise how he could get you so dumb when all he had done was fuck you with that big black vibrator. He kept you sat upright on his desk by letting you lay your head on his shoulder, fluttering kisses against your jaw and rubbing your back when you clenched around the toy and whined for more, soothing you with his whispers like a father soothing his baby in the dead of night.
"Not yet, little one." It had been not yet all damn night, and you were ready for more. Eyes locked on the tent in his pants, large and clearly thick enough to stretch you to your limit, but you couldn't find it in you to care how much it would hurt. He cared though, and thank God for that. He couldn't live with himself if one of his sweethearts got hurt when it was his job to make sure they were well taken care of and happy, even though Shanks tried to explain to him that his job was simply to get off and go.
When he finally pulled the vibrator out and let you slump against hi desk, he kissed along the inside of your thighs and cleaned up the mess dripping to your knees, murmuring enough poetic praise to keep you high on orgasm for longer than your ego appreciated.
"Aw, baby doll," He chuckled faintly against your cunt, a smile stretching across his lips when you squirmed and whined when his stubble brushed along your sensitive thighs. "You still wanna take my cock, don't you?"
"Yes." Your mother would be ashamed at how fast you answered the pirate, who merely chuckled again and lifted you into his arms.
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insanermin · 17 days ago
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ok so like this is my first ask so sorry if its worded weird!! but could you write a drabble for ellie where like reader is dinas step sister or sum and like reader lives a few states away and dina wants reader to meet her friends so reader visits and meets all of them and ellie is like nervous and stuff and dina teases her for it and eventually dina ships ellie and reader tg (once again sorry if its worded weird..😭)
it's okay! so i'm not gonna specify readers relationship with dina lmao, reader could be a family friend too... and it's longer than a drabble, sorry. but here you go!
why don't you stay, stay here after hours?
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ellie x reader, just fluff, not proofread, enjoy :)
you haven't been here for a while. but dina's apartment stayed the same, citrus-scented air freshener and deep brown eyes meeting you at the front door, it was all so familiar, even after all those years. however, you didn't expect a pretty face to emerge from behind her, in fact you didn't expect your little trip to good old hometown to be interesting in any way. when dina told you about her friends, you weren't expecting much, sorry dina. but shit, her friend is more than pretty, she's incredibly attractive.
"come on in," dina says, hugging you, miss pretty face standing awkwardly to the side. you let go, dina gestures towards her, you've been dying to know about her at this point and it's been only a few minutes since you got here.
"so, this is my friend ellie, we used to be a thing but—" ellie clears her throat, are her cheeks slightly rosy?
"we're really good friends, that's what i was trying to say," she continues, shooting ellie a glare. you awkwardly laugh, exchange some 'hi''s and 'nice to meet you''s with ellie, her raspy voice makes it harder for you to remember what you're here for. pretty auburn hair, strands falling out of her bun framing her face, green eyes and long lashes, freckles and kissable lips... what were you here for?
and ellie can't help but notice your eyes wandering, it's making her nervous. it's making her nervous that a gorgeous woman like you was watching her so carefully, she isn't used to getting this much attention next to dina who's incredibly extroverted and drawing all the attention.
she watches you leave and go up to dina's room. pulling dina aside, ellie elbows her.
"ouch," she hisses, rubbing herself.
"what the fuck? why would you mention we used to be a thing," ellie whispers. dina gasps, then covers her mouth, a sly smirk creeping up her face.
"don't tell me you like—" ellie cuts her off with a threatening, well not so threatening, 'hey' hoping dina understands that she needs to quiet down, you're literally upstairs.
"no, she's just pretty. you didn't tell me she's that pretty," she whispers, her face turning red. this will be a fun game for dina, for sure.
you all sit in her very cramped, but colorful kitchen, snacking and drinking while you and dina catch up. however, ellie can't help but steal glances from you, she couldn't help but study your face, the way you speak, the way you'd wheeze when you thought you said something funny, or when you—
"—and ellie is so, totally so single, incredibly single," dina laughs, pulling ellie out of thought. and you too, you've been thinking about ellie's green eyes lingering on your lips, is something on there? dina is the only one laughing while you and ellie are exchanging glances, for a second it feels like the world stopped for you to step closer to something unreachable.
"i guess i am? but why does that matter," ellie then responds, annoyance lacing her voice.
"because she's single too? and i just wanna be able to say that i'm a matchmaker," dina continues, stuffing chips into her mouth. you laugh, but ellie doesn't.
"you really wanna make us all uncomfortable, huh?" ellie mutters, fuck, why would she say that? she's been so overly self-conscious, trying really hard to leave good impressions, but having a pretty girl watch her bicker with her good friend, not how she imagined this to go at all.
"oh i'm not uncomfortable, don't worry," you say, the tension was thick. and dina notices this too, this whole thing took the wrong turn.
"well back in high school i walked up to someone thinking it was dina and scared that girl from behind, talk about uncomfortable," she scoffs. dina immediately throws back her head and cackles, but you can hear ellie's soft and low chuckles. fuck she's cute and you want to know more, know more about her and all the stories she had to tell and lived up until now.
and ellie is more than happy to see the smile that emerged on your lips when she said that, her eyes on you while you giggle at dina's silly stories about teenage ellie and dina's adventures. she just can't look away, your nose scrunches when you laugh, your eyes literally sparkle, you are just so endearing, and ellie would be a fool to pass up on this chance, on this chance to get to know you.
and you spend the rest of the afternoon at dina's place, laughter filling the room, glances and hands brushing filling up your heart.
"okay guys, we need to wrap it up, jesse is on his way and you know how he gets," dina shoots a look to ellie, both nodding in some secret agreement.
"can you get her to her hotel? but take it slow guys, never fuck on the first date," she chuckles, ellie scoffs while getting on her jacket, ellie would never be able to even hold hands with someone as beautiful and kind as you. but it for sure is a nice thought, a thought she saves for when she'll go to sleep later. and your thoughts are racing too, you're about to get in the car with ellie, she'll be driving you, you'll be alone with her, you are freaking out, but you can't let it show.
instead you awkwardly play with the leaves on the ground while you wait in front of her car after you said goodbye to dina.
walking out of dina's apartment, ellie can feel her heart jump out of her chest. she's a fucking wreck, but her urge for more is too big to ignore, she has to do something about all the feelings you made her feel. and for once in her life, she decides to make the first move once you're in her car, something dina always made fun of, telling ellie she's the biggest coward ever.
but not today, today she'll make you fall for her.
what she didn't know is that the second ellie opened the door for you and the scent of patchouli and tobacco filled your senses, you already fell, really hard at that.
you sit in her passenger seat, imagination running wild, the two of you could be knee deep—
"you comfy?" ellie asks, pulling you out of thought. you nod, yeah too fucking comfortable. you struggle putting your seatbelt on because your hands are shaking, but ellie is attentive, already helping you out, with shaky hands too.
to your disappointment, the drive was mostly quiet, so quiet you could hear your own racing heartbeat. but it's stupid to believe that someone like ellie would want to get to know you, you feel stupid for getting your hopes up.
ellie's eyes are on the navigator the whole time, two more streets and you're at the hotel. two more streets, she has to do something. the wheel is getting moist under her sweaty hands, she has never been this nervous in her whole life. but she might never see you again and does she really want to risk that? risk never going to meet anyone like you again? ellie clears her throat, she can't live with the thought of never having tried.
so she inhales deeply as she stops at the red light.
"so—" she starts, looking your way, making sure she got your attention. you tilt your head, you're gorgeous, god you are making this hard, ellie thinks to herself.
"—i made dinner, you should stay." ellie says, her voice low, eyes searching for yours in anticipation, she is about to explode.
"i'd love to," you reply. ellie smiles and hits the gas a little harder than needed as the lights turn green.
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leviraaaaaa · 11 days ago
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In another life?
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Levi stared at you from across the room, watching you as you distractedly fumbled with the straps of your gear. He watched as your fingers clumsily attempted to work with the clasp on your thigh properly, only for it to keep slipping out of your grasp, again and again, earning annoyed huffs from you. You were late, you knew. The others in the room had already cleared out, leaving only you as you struggled and Levi as he watched. But the more you tried to hurry, the worse it kept getting, the belts getting all tangled up with each other and you looked like you were about to cry.
He would've left by now as well, if not for you and your misery that made him stick around. It was very unusual to see you this unsettled, specially right before an expedition. Your hands were trembling uncontrollably. Levi felt frustrated only by watching you. Finally, he sighed and stepped forward.
“Call yourself a captain and you can't even tie your gear.” He muttered as he kneeled in front of you. Without letting you protest, he slapped your shaking hands away and took the strap to his own hands.
You were about to argue but when he shot a glare at you. You shut up. Even you knew when to be stubborn and when to be not and the clock that ticked away on the wall was a clear indication of what the choice should be. Therefore, you settled with a quietly mumbled curse but stretched out your leg anyway.
His expert hands worked fluidly, slipping underneath the belt and wrapping it around your shin. He pulled out one end and the leather grasped to your leggings.
“Too tight?”
“No.”
He did the other leg too, finishing the task you'd been struggling with for the past 15 minutes within 10 seconds. When he was done, his hand hesitantly reached up for for the ones at your thighs. He shot a questioning glance up towards you for approval and you nodded. This was no time for proprietary. He went back to work.
“What's on your mind?” He asked, glancing at you with gray eyes when he was done. In them, he had worry.
Everything. You wanted to say when you looked at him. Everything.
But of course you don't.
You shook your head, standing up. Wordlessly, you stepped around him, picking up the the sword sheathes hanging on the wall and adjusted them to your waist.
Levi stood up as well, brushing down his pants. He was about to tell you he didn't buy it. There was something wrong, he could tell, but before he could part his mouth, someone entered.
“Levi—Ah, I see you're here as well.” Erwin's deep voice reaches you as you turned. “Shadis is asking about your absence. We have about 5 minutes until we depart. Is everything okay?” Erwin's blue eyes found you as he asked the last question. Levi didn't fail to notice.
“Yes, sir.” You replied, a little too quickly perhaps. Levi's eyes narrowed. “I'll meet you out, sir.”
You sidestepped Erwin, in a hurry to leave the room. But just before your face disappeared, he caught the sight of absolute despair that was etched on your face.
.
“What's wrong with her?”
Erwin turned around, not surprised to find Levi on his horse, stanidng out of formation and beside him. “Levi.” He said pointedly.
“Don't be an ass, I'm going back in a minute.” He snapped. He knew Erwin knew something. “What the hell is wrong with her?”
“Hange says she's sick. Threw up in the morning twice apparently. Refused to have breakfast as well.” He shrugged.
Now that he thinks about it, sure, he hadn't seen you down at breakfast hours. He had just assumed you'd gotten in earlier.
Levi looked outraged. “And you're letting her out like that?”
“Levi, really.” Erwin sighed, looking at him. “Since when does she listen to me?”
Levi felt irritated. It was stupid of him not to realize Erwin must have told you to stay in. More stupid of him to not realize you had said no, like the arrogant shit you were.
“Put me near her.” He said suddenly. “Let Eld handle my squad.”
Erwin gave him a strange look. It made Levi self-conscious. “What?” He said defensively. He knew it was strange, fuck, but he couldn't think of another way.
“She can take care of herself." Erwin said. "She's a soldier, she knows what she's getting into. If she thinks she can handle it, why not have a little faith?”
“If she dies out there because she's too fucking stubborn, you'd be the one sorry.”
Erwin looked thoughtful. “Heart getting in the way of your head, Levi?”
Levi felt heat rushing to his cheeks. But Erwin cut him off before he could say anything.
“But yes,” He nodded. “I was going to tell Hange to keep an eye on her. But you don't listen to me either, do you?” He looked at him, the blonde man's piercing blue eyes searing straight through Levi's soul. “Do as you may.”
Do as you may. Levi thought about the words as he turned his horse around. Do as he might— for a friend. If that's what you were.
.
“Are you supposed to be here?” You asked tiredly, glancing at him when his horse stopped beside you.
“No.”
You frowned.
“Last minute change of formation.” Levi lied.
“Erwin didn't tell me.”
“Because he sent me here to tell you.”
You gave him a skeptical look. It was clear you did not believe him, but you didn't say anything else.
And that's how Levi knew there was something definitely, definitely wrong. Anytime else, you would've never let this go easily. You would've pestered him, annoyed him with questions, teased him, made every use of it until you got the answers you were looking for. Then you would argue. Bicker at him to convince you were okay so he left you. You hated the idea of getting help anyways, specially from him.
.
Expedition had started a while ago. Neither you or Levi had exchanged any words since then.
The two of you were on watch duty, perched on a tree as you scanned around for any upcoming titans, the smoke gun ready at your hand. A bland job, unsuited for both of you and very below your skill level. But you weren't complaining and you always complained.
You looked pale. There were bruises under your eyes and your lips were chapped, you looked fragile as a bird, a very exhausted bird.
And it was because Levi was watching you so closely that he noticed the exact moment your eyes lost focus.
The exact moment your muscles went slack and the grip around your swords went loose.
The exact moment your legs crumbled and you dropped forward.
And it was because he was watching you, because in his guts, he was certain there was something wrong and every inch of him was guarded that his body kicked in just the exact moment you tipped and he dived forward, catching you seconds before you crashed onto the ground like a broken ragdoll.
You were sitting at a table in the sidelines, watching couples as they swayed in rhythm to the melody of the piano all around the ballroom. You hummed along, tapping your fingers as you took a swig of your drink.
It was a ball hosted with a goal to fund for the scouts. It looked all fancy, but really under those painted and polite faces were twisted thoughts and sly hearts. You could feel the political tension thrumming in the air. And though you never really liked the social expectations to meet when attending these, it was fun to dress up and get a taste of the life of nobles for a night.
Shame that it's your last ever one.
You startled when the dark-haired man appeared beside you and sank down on a chair without a word.
"Tch." He clicked his tongue impatiently, plucking off a glass from the nearby waiter. He swung one of his legs over the other, his irritated face stood out bluntly amongst all the polite smiles and pleasantries. "How long do we have to stay here?"
"Levi." You smiled. He didn't return your smile, or even turned to look at you. He merely frowned, the slight wrinkles around his eyes indicating the foul mood was not at all uncommon for him. "Manners."
"Manners? If Erwin forces me to talk to one more of those stuck up rich bastards—"
"You're the star here. 'Humanity's Strongest' remember?"
"What a joke." He huffed frustratedly. "Don't call me that. It's like I'm a product being advertised to be sold."
"If you put it that way." You shrugged. Raw words, you thought. No false Incase of politeness. He said what he thought, no filters. Always. "The human miracle, the thug from underground that held talent like no other, the one who'd save humankind. Sounds like a pretty tempting investment."
"I will pour this on you I swear."
You giggled.
"Lots of admirers though." You tilted your head to observe the group of young girls huddled in a corner, ogling at him, giggling softly and pointing. Levi shot them a halfhearted, disinterested glance, which only made them squeal louder. He scowled.
"Won't fucking leave me alone." He mumbled.
You smiled, watching him as he fidgeted, fingers holding the wine glass by the strange way you've always seen him, by the rim. He looked out of place. In this grand room filled with colors and vibrance, he was dressed in black. Trousers, shoes, waistcoat, suit—it was all different shades of black. And even his eyes were a shade of gray. It contrasted against the paleness of his skin.
He was beautiful, you thought, watching him from the corner of your eyes. Beautiful. But there was an edge to it. Like the way the sharp edge of a sword glitters in the moonlight. Intimidating. Dangerous. Mesmerizing.
It only ever made you want to steal a closer look, to peer at his heart to see if his soul was as stone made as he appeared.
You've known him for so long, since the first he ever became a scout. Yet here, right now, in the midst of all this grandeur and with him looking like someone straight out of a novel, you felt like a little child. A lovesick little teenager getting her first crush. Not a scout who's killed titans. It always felt like that. With him. It was like hoping for the moon, and you're only just a silly, silly human.
You've known him for so long and you've grown so close, yet now that you look at him, he's never felt further away.
You were only just a girl when it was him.
Levi was cruel, there was no other way to put it. But yet, as you came to realize through the years, the unkind words he threw at your way sometimes, they were only just that. He didn't mean half of it, almost as if he said them only out of habit. He was kind too, you noticed. In the strangest ways. He'd let you pester him all day, make him help you with his work, forcefully make him listen to every gossip you learnt about, rant about your little romance novels, and in turn, sometimes, when you pushed, he'd even share glimpses of your own life.
You think the strangest thing was that about him. That he pretended he didn't care, that he hated listening to you rant but somehow he always remembered the smallest details, some of which even you forgot sometimes. Levi seemed to always notice the day you didn't sleep enough, when you looked too tired, when you felt uncomfortable.He’d remind you to eat, to take care of yourself, to rest.
From a young age, you had learnt to accept that life was always going to be too short for you. That it will never be enough. There will always be something more you'd need. And so you had forced yourself to keep everyone at an arm's length. Fuck around but never, ever fall. Because it'd hurt so much less when the end bell finally rang.
So what were you to do, when your heart starts to beat differently for that one strange, complex man?
You liked the way Levi looked at you. His gaze honest and clear. You liked how straight he was with his words.
It was nice. To be with someone so rudely honest. Because Levi looked at you as if you were you. And it reminded you that this scarcity of life you were given weren't all you were.
You were a living, breathing person.
Levi made you feel alive.
A voice cut you off your thinking. There was a man in front of you, trying to gain your attention. And you smiled politely, rejecting what was probably the dozenth of man who proposed to you for a dance. Levi glanced at the dejected man who walked away sullen.
"Won't you dance?" He suddenly asked, looking at you. "You haven't moved an inch since you've been here. I thought you liked this shit."
You only shook your head.
"Why not? You look like you want to."
You smiled sheepishly. "Not tonight." Not ever.
He sat up straight, finally turning to look at you. He put his glass down, his expression serious. Steel gaze searing through your skin.
"You're resigning." The words were a statement but it was also a question.
You stared at him.
"You didn't tell me." He said accusingly. "I had to find out from fucking Erwin tonight. Why are you resigning?"
There was genuine concern underneath, and that made your heart throb a little.
"Well?" He demanded, the hint of frustration lacing his usually cool, flat voice at the lack of answer.
"Sure you know, Levi." You sighed.
He raised an eyebrow brow inquiringly, looking confused.
"What? Is this because you passed out during the last expedition? You've been a wet rag ever since." He said. " Don't tell me you blame yourself for that and think you're incapable or something."
"I am incapable."
"Bullshit. It was this one time and it's probably because you skipped meals or something. You're better than half the other idiots."
Oh.
You realized suddenly as you met his eyes.
He doesn't know.
Levi doesn't know yet.
No one told him.
Erwin hadn't told him. Your eyes found Erwin's blue ones in a corner of the room. He gave you a slight nod, turning his focus back to the men he was conversing with. He must've thought it would be best if you told him yourself.
You felt despair.
You clasped your fingers, then unclasped it. The room was suddenly so cold. You can't do this.
Levi was still watching at you, waiting, his brows furrowed. He spared a glance at Erwin as well. You couldn't help but think how strange fate was. It pushed rose colored glasses onto you, granting you those soft beautiful moments and convincing you that, this is nice, this is perfect, you can live like this.
Until you're here. Until suddenly the delusions slip out and reality is a far, far tougher enemy to defeat than titans.
How do you tell Levi time was running out?
That fate was a cruel, cruel little thing.
“What's going on?” He said quietly, his shoulders tense. Like he could sense your feelings somehow. There was a subtle sign of panic in him at your silence. “What aren't you telling me?”
“Oh." You muttered tiredly, eyes downcast. He was staring at you, narrowed gray eyes. You looked almost sad, melancholic. "Don't you know?"
"What?" He blinked.
"Levi," You looked up, bracing yourself for the next words. "I'm dying."
Levi choked on his drink.
Levi hadn't seen you since then.
He didn't know what happened to you.
You had disappeared the day after, your office cleared of all possessions, and Erwin had only told him you had gone back home. He had no way of contacting you, no way of visiting you, no way of confronting you to ask what the fuck were you talking about. He could hardly focus on his work because that's all he could think about. You looking at him with those eyes, with the saddest face he had ever seen you make. He can't forget the words you said, how you said it. That's all he could think about.
So when he received the letter, your neat, elegant handwriting on the smooth paper surface, he was relieved. And worried. And surprised.
You had wrote only two words.
"Meet me?"
He frowned. Meet you where?
But when he turned to look at the envelope, turning it on his hand to check the sender's address, he froze.
Behind it, was the address of a hospital.
Hange was going from corridor to corridor, swooping through room to room to find you as Levi quietly follows. He felt nauseous as he walked. He never liked hospitals. Today, he hated it even more.
It didn't take long. Hange asked a few nurses and they all seemed to know you. Levi registered it numbly, how often you must've come here for everyone to know you by name only. He remembered the times you’d disappear without explanation. Was that for hospital check ups? How long had you been sick and he hadn't realized?
“Ah!” Hange's excited yelp broke him out of his daze. They disappeared behind an open door. “There you are!”
From the other side, he could hear a muffled voice. A voice he knows. He doesn't step in though. His hands are balled into a fist as he squeezed them in his pockets. It didn't feel real. This can't be real. There's no way you're on the other side of that door.
“No, Erwin couldn't come. He's been so busy but Levi—huh, where did Levi go? Wait, let me go and—” Hange's head pops back out. “Shortie, are you being shy? She's looking for you!”
Fuck. Was there still time to leave this fucking place?
But no, Hange knew. They were looking at him with the same excited expression but their eyes had a strange, determined look. You have to do this, they were telling him. For your sake.
So he did. He exhaled sharply and hoped for composure and walked in.
And nothing in this world ever could've prepared him for what he saw.
Just over the few weeks, your eyes had sunken to your face and your cheeks were hollow. And your face was pale, almost as colorless as the white hospital walls. There were wires attached to you, through your wrist, through your nose.
You looked broken.
But your eyes lit up the moment you saw him.
"Hello." You smiled.
And yet somehow, he thought, in the strangest way, you still looked beautiful. Now more than ever. Beautiful in a way that terrified him. It made him feel sick to his stomach. But he couldn’t look away.
He swallowed the dread down.
"You look like shit." He said.
You broke into a smile.
"Sit." You patted across a chair beside you. "Don't worry, I've made them disinfect the room twice. No germs." You reassured him, grinning. You knew him so well.
He said nothing, but silently took a seat
When you beamed up at him and his heart tugged. It took so little to make you happy.
Then you turned back to Hange, the two of you slipping to easy conversation. He doesn't know for how long. He kept his eyes on the floor. To look anywhere but you. He doesn't know when the time passed, but every once a while you would laugh at something Hange said and that's the only time he would feel conscious, your voice bringing him back. That's the only time he spared a glance at you.
You laughed the same. You looked in pain, but you laughed the same.
It went on for a while more, as the two of you chatted, discussing such casual things, none of you addressing him. He was grateful for it, to be ignored. Grateful to not be expected to be included in the conversation. It was hard enough to be here. He's not you or Hange. He couldn't pretend everything's fine and laugh about it.
But he could almost convince himself that everything was fine. Everything was fine. He was in the meeting room in the Scouts headquarters with everyone else and you were fine. Hange was shitting about military police and you were agreeing. Hange was telling you about titans and you were listening. And in this version, you were fine. You weren't here in this small, colorless hospital room, with tubes and needles going through you.
“Right. It's getting late, so I gotta go. I hope you feel better, girlie,” Hange's voice snapped him out of his daze as they pushed back on the chair to get up. He dully notices Hange's choice of words. Feel better. Not get better. “We’ll try to come by when we can. Make sure to drop by when you can as well. C’mon Levi let's go.” They nudged his shoulders. Levi felt relief. He needed some fucking air.
But Levi was only about to stand up when your fingers reached out to wrap around his hand.
“Levi.” You asked him, speaking directly to him for the first time in the hour. “Stay a while?”
He flinched when you touched him. He doesn't meet your eyes. Instead they find Hange's brown ones, who were watching the interaction closely.
“Sure Levi, why don't you accompany her?” They smacked his shoulders casually, but Levi didn't miss the intentional squeeze. “You don't have anything to do today anyway.”
Levi considered rejecting you for a second, considered making up some shitty excuse to escape this room and escape you, but then he looked at your eager expression and he found himself sitting back down. Levi could get low, but even him wouldn't go this low. He couldn't go that cheap. He couldn't be that much of a fucking coward.
“Wonderful.” Hange grinned. “Tell shortie to behave please. He'd been a mess ever since you left.”
“I will.”
Then Hange was gone. Leaving the two of you with each other and a chilling silence.The first confrontation in weeks.
He didn't think this room could get any more fucking suffocating.
He glanced down where your hand touched his. Your wrist looked so slender it was as if he could break it just by wrapping his hand around it. Skin and bones, that's all you were. Fragile.
"I'm glad you came." You whispered.
Levi inhaled sharply. You could tell him to jump off an edge right then and he'd probably do it.
For a long moment, Levi said nothing, just stared at where your hand rested on his wrist. His fingers itched to pull you closer, but he held back. He holds you gently, so gently, like you were made of glass.
Like you were the most precious thing he's ever held in this lifetime and now you were slipping away.
"I don't understand." He said suddenly.
You stayed quiet. You knew what he meant.
He felt angry at you. So fucking pissed. He felt betrayed. It's like everyone knew except him. Erwin knew. Hange knew. He didn't. Then you fucking spring this on him and disappear for weeks. And that wasn’t fair. That wasn't fucking fair.
“You could've told me.”
You looked down, letting out a soft breath. “I didn’t know how.” you admitted. You never wanted to see that look on your face.
Not yet. Even now that you'd told him, you wished you didn't. You wished you had a little more time.
Levi clenched his jaw, casting his eyes to the sterile white floors.
“When?” His voice was rough.
“Always.”
So you'd been sick. From the day you'd arrived. He felt hollow. In Levi's head, he could remember you. He could remember the first he'd seen you. You were dying then and he hadn't known.
After a pause, he spoke again, his voice carefully blank and face expressionless. Silver eyes devoid of all emotions as they looked down at you.
“How long?”
You keep quiet. Not long. You don't tell him that though. After a while, you spoke. “I don't know.” You said. “Days? Weeks? Months? Who knows. I'm not getting better.” You smiled.
He doesn't know what to say to that. How to respond to that.
He doesn't know how to feel.
"You were fine." He said, almost numbly. As if affirming it would make it true.
"No " You shook your head. "No, I wasn't.”
"You were fine. Even weeks ago. You were fine.” He repeated, shaking his head. He knew it was pathetic. He knew it was hopeless. He knew he was just lying to himself because hell, if he's got to accept this shit. He pulled away his hand from you, ignoring the hurt look on your face. “You were fine. You went out on expeditions. You fought titans. You sparred with Miche. You were fucking fine.”
"I'm sorry." You whispered. But he shot a heated glare at you. That wasn't what he was asking.
“The meds stopped working." You shrugged. “It was always going to. Eventually. It's surprising that it even worked for so long.”
Finally, after minutes of agonizing silence, he let out a tired breath. “Leave it to you to find the stupidest way to die.” He muttered.
You smiled weakly. “Pretty pathetic, huh?”
So much pain. He was in so much pain, you knew.
Levi doesn't show it, he refused to show it, but fuck, you knew him so well, it hurt. He cared so much. So so much.
You'd seen him hold on to a dead comrade for months. Everyone would forget them, not Levi.
Levi can't let go.
It was his eyes that gave it away. Never had he ever looked at you that way. His eyes seared through your soul like he was searching for an answer. Searching for a way, something to hold onto you with. Like he knew. He knew you were fading away. Like he could feel the emptiness you felt with every breath. In his eyes, you saw the most subtle glimpse of despair.
The more you looked at him, the more you felt vulnerable. Something was breaking inside you at the sight of him. Every bit of desire you'd locked away was strangling your heart.
He was here, with his dark hair falling over his face and the silver gleaming through his half lidded eyes and shit, he was so beautiful. Since the day you met him. You felt so soft when he looked at you. So fragile.
You yearned. So badly. Would it be so wrong?
“Do you think I'm pretty?” You asked him.
Levi was confused, caught completely off-guard. “What?” His asked uncertainly?
“I want to know.”
“You want to know if I think you're pretty?”
“Yes.” You smiled.
“Do you always have to be so unserious?”
“Yes.”
Levi blinked. Then sighed. You and your fucking theatrics. “You’d think someone who's dying would ask smarter questions.” He muttered under his breath.
You held your gaze. You wanted him to answer.
Levi balled his hand to a fist. His fingernails digged into his hand. He knew he couldn't lie. Not when you were looking at him like that.
“...I don't know.” He exhaled softly. “Sure, I guess. You keep a neat face. I suppose you don't look that shitty.”
“Even now?’’ You looked at him pointedly.
He stared at you. You and your sunken cheeks and your fragile hands and your tired eyes. You looked ethereal.
Even now.
“Yes.”
You thought you might cry. It hurt. It hurt more because you knew he was being honest. You could tell from the way he was looking at you. He still saw you in the brightest light.
And that sums up the kind of person Levi is.
You're pretty, Levi. You want to tell him. You're so fucking pretty, did you know that?
You don't though.
But he did look so fucking pretty.
You felt sad suddenly. All those fucking years he chose to be a nonchalant bitch. He chose to act like he doesn't give a fuck. And now that you're here, to the end of your lifeline, now he was gonna look at you like that?
You can't do this.
You thought you could, but no. You overestimated your strength. You thought you could handle this. You thought you were strong enough, strong enough to be with him like this, strong enough to handle the way he was looking at you. But no. You should've never called him here.
You can't do this.
He has to go. For your sake. And for his.
“Levi.”
“What?” It was so unfair, you knew.
“Leave.”
His eyes widened. But you held your gaze.
Levi was startled at the sudden shift of mood, the abrupt turn the conversation took. He stared blankly.
“I want you to leave, Levi. And never come back.”
His mind felt empty. There was something strange in your eyes, a desperation. You were looking at him like you wanted him to understand something. Like you needed him to understand. But he didn't understand. What was happening? Why were you saying that?
“You don’t mean that.” He said flatly, after a stretched pause as he waited for an explanation. He looked as calm as ever, but you could see the confusion in his eyes.
You sighed, turning away and leaning back on your headrest. You refused to look at him.
“Did I do something wrong?” He pressed when you didn't respond.
You shook your head.
“I don't want you here anymore.”
“Why?” His voice was so blank but shit, you could just feel the strain underneath.
“I don't want you here anymore.” You repeated, closing your eyes. “I don't want you to see me like this.”
“You don't get to decide that.” He said, his voice harsh and laced, now with an anger as he started to realize where this was going.
“I can actually. I call the nurses. They kick you out.”
“You're being stupid. I can't just—” He sounded frustrated. “I can't just leave you here alone.”
You shook your head again.
“What the fuck? You're the one who brought me here. You're the one who wanted me to stay."
You did, didn't you? What were you thinking? Steadying your expression and masking the absolute heart wrenching pain you were feeling, you looked at him.
“I'm not going to let you do this.” You said calmly. “I'm gonna get worse. And then I'm gonna get worse. More and more. And you're gonna hate it. I'm not going to let you do this to yourself.”
He stared at you with disbelief.
“Let me go, Levi.” You whispered, your voice cracking. “You can't save me. Not this time.”
Well, you were a fucking idiot if you thought he was gonna give up just like that.
He wasn't going to leave you like that. In that soul less, lifeless, shitty ass hospital room, tied up to fucking machines and whatnot. He wasn't going to leave you there all alone. You're insane if you thought he was going to.
But he did leave you alone for the two weeks. He's known you too long. You get mad when people doesn't listen to and throw this big pissy rampage and Levi, for one, did not have the mood to deal with that and two, he suspected it would not be good for your health. Another reason is the hospital’s too fucking far from the headquarters. It took so much time or else he would've come earlier. He couldn't focus shit on his work because all he'd been thinking about were you and all he did was wait for another mail where you apologize and take back your words and ask him to come and visit again. You didn't.
He still showed up today, though.
With a bouquet of flowers in his hand. They felt heavy surprisingly. It was sappy as hell and he kept cringing internally everytime he looked at it. Fucking hell, he'd never though this day's come.
He looked up. It looked like it was going to rain today.
Then he braced himself. Knowing the stubborn shit you were, you were bound to throw out a reaction. But he hoped you'd forgotten about it. Hence, also the flowers. Hopefully, they'd be enough to calm you down. But frankly enough, he didn't give a fuck about your stupid reasons. For his own sake, he had to be there. He had to be with you.
So he stepped into the hospital, taking in a deep breath once the sterile scent kicked in.
He retraced his steps the last time he'd been here, taking the steps slowly. When he reached the floor you were on, he set off to the left corridor, trying to remember which room was yours. But he finds it soon enough, the familiar door.
He took a deep breath, the scent of hospitals making him suffocated. He felt nauseous again. He wondered how you looked now. Was he strong enough to do this?
Were you right? Maybe for his sake, he shouldn't be here. His heart pounded so hard against his chest and he couldn't breathe.
Fuck it.
He stepped in. Then halted.
Empty.
Everything was empty.
The shelves. The table. The bed. Every inch of the room sparkled like someone had just cleaned it recently, the scent of disinfectant hanging on the air. The last time he'd been here, there were those weird romance novels you used to like, piled on the table. All of them were gone. The bed was made up, white sheet spread smooth with the corners folded and the pillows fluffed. Like no one had ever laid there.
Like no one had ever been in this room.
“...you're…Captain Levi, aren't you?”
The soft voice startled him. He jolted, turning around to find a young girl looking at him curiously, reddish hair peeking through her blue nurse cap. He recognized her. He'd seen him the last time he was here, she was the one who showed Hange and him to your room. Her hazel eyes softened when he turned around.
“She's told us a lot about you.” She said, explaining.
Levi doesn't talk. He doesn't blink. He doesn't breathe. His hand gripped onto the bouquet harder.
“Has she been moved?” He asked, his voice harsh. He tried to steady it but his hands were sweaty and his heartbeat was rising. “Do you know where she's—”
But she was looking at him sadly, and Levi knew. Levi knew then.
The ground underneath swayed slightly and he found his eyes travelling to the floor. What was he doing here? Why did he come here today? He needs to leave leave leaveleaveleave—
He didn't need to hear the words from her, he already knew. He looked down to his hands, which were shaking slightly. The bouquet was almost haphazard from how tightly he'd been holding them. They felt heavier.
“She said you'd come back.” She told him, looking at him pitifully. “Come with me, please.”
Levi followed her. He didn't know why. He didn't even want to know why. But his head was empty and he could no longer form a thought. He could no longer think, only do what he's asked.
He didn't process where she's leading her, but then they're standing in front of a room. She tells him to wait and goes back in. Levi waited. He doesn't know for how long. Time meant nothing anymore.
She came out a couple seconds later, an envelope in her hand. She holds it out to him.
“She told me to give you this. She asked me to keep it. I told her she should just mail it but she insisted you'd come back.” She let out a soft sigh.
For a second, Levi doesn't do anything.
He stared at the paper in her hand blankly, unable to process it. His eyes hurt from staring, but in the back of his head, he already knew what it was. He should be curious, intrigued. Sad. Something. Anything. He shouldn't be this numb. But he couldn't show a reaction. He felt so tired. He stiffly reached out, taking the letter from her hand
He vaguely registered the elegant scroll of your writing on top of the white surface. To Levi, it said.
The girl looked at him expectantly, waiting for him to respond. To ask. To react. But when he didn't say anything, she looked almost disappointed.
“That's all, then.” She tells him, giving him a polite nod. “I'm sorry for your loss. I will be heading back now.”
Levi didn't say anything.
It's only when she's walking away, when she's getting further and further, he remembered something.
“Wait.” He called out, his voice hoarse. He has to ask. He needed to ask. He must know.
She stopped, turning back.
He let out a shaky breath. He needed to know. “Do you know when…” He inhaled, his voice was shaking, shit. He steadied it. “When did she…?”
He doesn't need to finish his sentence, she already knows. She looked at him. “Not long.” She answered kindly. “It’s been 3 days.”
3 days. You'd left the world 3 days ago.
“Did it..” He tried to find the right words to say. He remembered how you winced everytime you moved. “...was she in pain? When she passed?”
She shook her head. “No.” She said. “It was peaceful. She had a smile on her face.”
Right. Of course you fucking did.
Barely aware of his own actions, he turned to walk away. He needed to get out of here.
“Actually..” She started again, her voice hesitant, stopping Levi in his tracks. Like she wasn't sure she should say this. “The last word she said…it was your name.”
He can't breathe. “What?”
“‘Levi.’ she said.” The nurse told him with a soft look. “'Levi' was the last thing she said.”
Levi,
I knew you'd come back.
You stubborn fucking asshole. You were never going to listen to me in the first place.
Are you angry at me? You are, I know. You have every right to be. I know you're so mad at me right now and probably cursing me, but I couldn't let you be there. I know it's so cruel of me. But believe me, I had no choice. For my sake. For my sake, I couldn't let you be there. I couldn't let you see me die like that.
You have to understand. I was so scared, Levi. So terrified. And the more I looked at you, the more scared I felt.
I didn't want to leave you.
I don't care about rotting in a grave somewhere, Levi. I just didn't want to leave you.
You'd think after knowing from birth that you were going to die soon, you'd learn to not be afraid of it. You'd think being in the scouts, where everyday was a gamble, you'd learn to not be afraid of it. And I did. I swear I did. Death didn't scare me anymore. That's why I did so well in the scouts. You used to call me reckless, but there's no point of being scared for a life you were going to lose either way, was there?
I thought I could do this. I thought I could get over it. I thought I didn't have anything to lose.
But then I met you.
You with your stupid fucking ego and your stupid fucking attitude. You with the stupid hair and you with the stupid face. You with the prettiest eyes I've ever seen.
And it scared me so much. So much. What I felt for you. This constant yearning to be near you. I had so little time. All I ever wanted was to be with you. But I had so little time.
I'm sorry for always annoying the shit out of you. But I had so little time. I had to make the most of it. But as it turned out, it was never enough. It was never going to be enough.
The day the meds stopped working, the day I passed out on that expedition, the day the doctors told me there's nothing they could do anymore, the first thought I had was, “I can't be with Levi anymore.”
Not “I'm gonna die.”
But it was you I thought of.
It's so strange, isn't it? I've spent half a lifetime in hospitals and tied up to machines, having to take dozens of meds everyday just so my organs would keep functioning. I was so tired of it all, all I wanted was for it to end. I waited so eagerly for the day it'd all stop. But now that we're here, I'd do anything, I'd do anything to spend one last day with you. One last hour. One last minute. I'd give up anything to go out on one last expedition with you. Just to hear you call me a ‘suicidal fucking psycho’ again. Just to hear you get mad at me again. Just so you could lecture me. Just so you could smack my head and tell me what a fucking dumbass I am. Just one last time, for you to wrap my wounds with the gentlest hands.
I hope you know you changed everything.
You gave me my life back.
And I will owe it to you for eternity.
I'm rambling, aren't I? I don't know how much longer I have, at best 2-3 days. My lungs are going to shit and I've been tied to a nebulizer the whole week. I can't even hold the pen properly because my hands are shaking so bad and it hurts to even write. But I want to. I want to write. I want to tell you so much stuff, to tell you everything, to tell you anything. Shit, I wish you were here. It hurts to breathe, Levi, and I wish you were here. It always hurt so much less when you were here.
I think I'm going to stop here.
I can't fit a lifetime of unsaid things in one letter, could I?
Tell Hange I love them and tell Erwin, I said thank you. I'd write them letters as well if it didn't hurt so bad, so you're gonna have to relay it for me.
Don't be mean to Hange, okay? You know they love you. Let them take care of you. Let others take care of you. You don't have to be the strongest all the time. It's okay, I swear it is. It's okay to let go. It's okay to be selfish. You're gonna be okay, I promise.
I'm going to write one last thing. It's okay if you get mad at me for this, I deserve it. But I really needed to say this. I really wanted you to know. I'm just sorry it had to be in one shitty letter.
But I need you to forgive me, Levi. I'm sorry that I'm so much of a coward that I never said it to you when I had the time. I'm sorry that this is how I'm letting you know.
I really like you. You have no idea, do you?
You're such an asshole. But you're the most lovable asshole I've ever met.
It wasn't much of a life, but I hope you know that I've loved you with all of it.
If Hange's theory of multiple realities is true, I hope I get to meet you in every one. I hope you're my friend in every one. I hope I get to fall for you in every one.
Matbe I'll see you again. In another life, perhaps?
This time, I would do it right. This time, I wouldn't do this by a stupid letter. This time, I would say the words, true and honest, with every bit of my soul.
I love you, Levi. My heart failed to keep me alive but it never failed to love you.
With the little life I was given, I've loved you with all of it.
Till my last breath.
Sincerely.
P.s. I don't know if you found it, but I've stashed a bunch of those green tea you like in the bottom drawer. Parting gift.
Levi stood before a tombstone.
It was gray, like the sky. It was definitely going to rain.
He'd been standing here for a while now, in the cemetery, the letter clutched to his hand, the bouquet still on his other hand. The flowers were all wilted now, but the air still smelled like roses. The grave in front of him was fresh, it was obvious it's barely a couple days old. There was a name etched on the stone, a name he's known for so long. A name he knows so well.
Strangely, it didn't hurt. He didn't feel anything really. There was a strange vacancy in his chest, a voidness where his heart should be. He felt empty, like he lost a part of him somewhere.
He glanced at the letter again. It was wrinkled now, from how hard his fingers been clutching it. He glanced back at the last few sentences and he felt that familiar tug in his chest again.
Levi's head felt empty.
Out of all the ways he'd thought he might lose you, this wasn't one of them.
Out of all the scenarios he had ever imagined where there would come a time he had to lead a life without you being a part of it, this wasn't one of it. This was never one of them. Losing you like this was never one of them.
Being a scout meant there were no tomorrow's. You go out with the expectation of never coming back. And he knew that. Death was reality.
Yet. Wasn't that why he'd always been careful to stick around with you? Always making sure your gear was working, your straps were tightened, your swords were sharpened. Always looking for you first the moment the missions ended. Always the team he'd make Erwin pair him with. Because he thought as long as you were in his sight, as long as he was near enough to see you, you would be okay. He wouldn't let you die. All that for what if this is how it turned out?
Vaguely, he remembered his mother. Here he was again, after years. Nothing changed.
This was the one place his strength meant nothing. Nothing.
Him being humanity's strongest changed nothing.
“Fucking idiot.” He muttered quietly. “Don't even have the guts to say it to my face.”
He swallowed down the bitter taste in the back of his throat. What was he doing? Why was he talking to himself?
He felt angry. Angry at you. Angry because all you needed was to say it. To say it and he would've given up everything. He was angry at himself too. Who was he to condescend you when he was no better himself? When he never had the guts to say it as well?
At least you got to say your piece. Now he'll never get to.
“Fuck.” He ran a hand through his hair. He felt restless. It was so fucking unfair. So, so fucking unfair. He had so much to say. So much he's never told you.
He never even got to say goodbye.
He sighed. Looked down to the bouquet. Then to his own surprise, he crouched down, laying the flowers gently on the stone surface.
“I hope you like them. They're all dead and shit now but,” He swallowed, his hands shaking.“Parting gift.”
His touch lingered, softly caressing the carvings of your name, tracing the familiar letters. His fingers shook when he reached the deathdate.
Finally, finally, it started to rain. First, a couple drops caressing his face, and then the sky was grieving with him, crashing onto this world and onto him. He was drenched in a second, his hair sticking to his forehead and his clothes sticking to his skin. He stood up, broken from his daze. He stuffed the envelope down the pocket of his jeans and hoped that was enough, but it was already half wet. The one last thing you'd left him and he couldn't even keep it in piece. He was well and truly an idiot.
He spared a glance at the sky. He wondered if it was the rain that made it all seem so black and white. Or maybe you had sucked the color out of this world when you passed.
He sighed. Does it matter anymore?
But he moved anyway, standing up and turning away.
He can't stay here forever.
He has to go back. Go back to the lifeless foul walls of the headquarters and his stuffy office. He had a shit ton of paperwork he needed to get done. He had to handle his squad. He had to prepare for next week's expedition. He had so much to do. So much to do.
He wondered vaguely how he was going to tell this to Hange.
But he continued walking, hands stuffed to his pocket, grabbing onto the letter. He doesn't look back.
Leaving half his heart on the stone where you lied beneathe.
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facefullofsadness · 9 months ago
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hybrid!aespa in heat
subby!aespa x dom!reader
smut, 1k wc
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I'm going crazy, I haven't been able to stop thinking ab this since my SEVEN THIRTY AM CLASS, but I cannot stop thinking about hybrid!aespa in heat for the first time??
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like maknae line are very bby girl in ur relationship, you treating them like a princess in and out of bed, and them just sitting still looking pretty for you! yizhuo seems more of a switch in my head than minjeong does as a hybrid, but when they're in heat, they both become the subbiest babies ever!
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minjeong would be RED, cheeks completely flushed and skin hot to the touch. her eyes darting everywhere and hands as fists clutching her clothes, her sheer clothing suddenly feeling too hot. you'd crawl over her squirming body on the bed and she'd whine so hard. "idk what's happening to me y/n-ie. b-but, fuck, please help me," she'd say during her first heat. her hands would reach out blindly for any part of you to clutch onto and pull you into her, her shoving her heated face into your neck. you kinda worried about her, not knowing what was going on, but after she whimpered against your neck by your hot breath whispering into her ear, it clicked. extremely sensitive and respondent to every single brush of your skin against hers, having the most reactive effects on her body. trembling, jolting, shivering, whimpering. the way she would be so loud and whiney when you finally give her what she wants, rutting her hips against your mouth or fingers, could be both! or your own hips too. "so hot, so hot!" she whines desperately, shoving her hips against you as she falls apart.
yizhuo wouldn't be so naive as to what was happening. as soon as she felt her stomach twist and that feeling consuming her entire body with every passing second, her heart started to pound and muscles would tense. immediately dragging herself shakily to look for you and burying her body into yours, sitting in your lap and purring softly in your ear on your skin. suddenly becomes a lot more clingy and whiney, not really feeling any shame or embarrassment unlike the latter. so it's not surprising when she grinds her clothed cunt against your lap, long and deep rolling of her hips against you, just to feel anything. "y/n-ie, I-I think it's happening... you smell fuck- you smell so g-good... you feel so good... I need more, this isn't enough, please give me more..." taking her right then and there on the couch and having her head thrown back as you fuck her with the utmost stamina you can give, her always begging you to give her more. would go so many rounds with you because she can't stop how the knot in her stomach would never fully be relieved, rutting against you even as you try to ease her orgasm, overstimulating herself but immediately ready to go again.
as for the unnie line, it's like night and fucking day. they're definitely wearing the pants in your relationship, having you close to them when you're out in public, pulling you into them with their hand on your hip or wrapping their arm around your shoulders. jimin is a gentle and firm lover while aeri is confident and loves to show you off (under her supervision ofc). but when they're in heat, oh my god the thought makes me dizzy. complete 180.
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jimin's eyes would darken as lust and sexual desire consume her. her stare would trail your relaxed body, laying back on the bed. her core started to throb and her hands formed fists against the blankets. crawling up to you, a pained and needy expression spreading across her face. you would look up at her in confusion, your usually quiet and reserved gf looking intense, her eyes drilling holes through your body which made you feel conscious suddenly. "y/n..." she said your name so low and croaky, her voice triggering something in your brain. at this point you understood what she wanted, but you hadn't expected how badly she needed it. "I need you so badly. I need you to fuck me..." taken aback by the sudden advance had your head spinning, but seeing your girlfriend soooo needy, cheeks flushed pink and hot breath hitting your skin, her chest rising up and down with each pant she released, you had to listen to her! you pleasuring her while she's on top of you, grinding her hips down into you and releasing whiney moans with each roll of her body. mumbling incoherently how good it feels and how much of a good girl you are for listening so well to her, her fingers patting your head as her orgasm builds to the wet sounds coming from her aching core.
aeri hated being a hybrid at times because she knew going into heat would make her subby! born to be a dommy mommy, forced to be a baby girl! she absolutely rocks your world whenever you guys fuck, but when she finally experiences it, it's almost comical how different she suddenly is. pushing you up against the door having just come home from dinner, greedily feeling your body with her big hands and lips bruising against her's. when your thumb traced her nipple, she'd moan embarrassingly loud into your mouth, shocking both of you. you pull back to look at her and her eyes are squinted shut, leaning her body into your touch more when you try to take your hand away. "fuck y/n, don't you dare pull away, give me your all right now. I need you sososo bad, it hurts so fucking much..." she'd moan and whine like a sub while demanding you to fuck her like the natural dom she is. sitting in her lap with your lips around her neck, your tongue dragging across the length of her throat as she pulls you by the waist further into her, trying to maximize the amount of sheer pleasure you were giving. releasing deep guttural groans with every roll of her hips, the occasional high pitched loud moan escaping, her fingernails digging into your skin.
and I didn't really mention it but my headcanons for hybrid!aespa are kitten or wolf!rina, puppy!aeri, bunny!winter, and kitten!ning. BUT TO EACH THEIR OWN! (I wish they OWNED me- what who said that?)
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thisgirlnamedblusy · 13 days ago
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g'day! I hope you're doing well. Love your writing.
May I request a gp Donna and reader with a teen daughter who's giving them typical teenager problems like sneaking out, partying and such? Reader is scolding her but the daughter talks back and yells at her, and Donna is not having any of that and has a no one disrespect my wife moment. Reader gets turn on by it and they end up making love a little too loud to Angie's and their daughter's horror, whom apologies to reader afterwards.
Hope that wasn't too long! Thanks.
Yesss!!!! Thank you for your kindness, and for your request, and no, it's not long at all, don't worry ;) I hope you like it and sorry about the language mistakes!!!! :)))))
A rebel daughter
Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem! Reader
Warnings: G!P Donna, smut, Minors DNI, family fluff...
Word count: 7,529
Summary: Young Beneviento it's just like you as a teenager, and that's a problem...
N/A: Sorry about the language mistakes!!! Requests are open!!! I'm waiting yours!!! I love you all!!! :))
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“Damn it,” you cursed as you walked nervously through the house, glancing at the clock in the hall often. “This is unbelievable, Donna, what…?”
When you went to the old couch to ask for advice, or to vent to the lady in black, you found a scene that, under other circumstances, could be funny. The doll maker was lying on the couch, but she wasn't exactly conscious; her breathing was deep and her one eye was closed.
You growled, clenching your fists and walking towards her, clapping your hands.
“Donna!” you said in a brusque tone, scaring the lady, who opened her eye and sat up confused.
“Ugh… Lasciami dormire,” she growled uncomfortable at the noise, but her protests didn't matter as you approached and shook her shoulders hastily.
“Sleep? How can you sleep in this situation?” you asked nervously, holding back the Lord’s grumbling grunts for a bit.
“What? What's wrong?” she asked, waving her arms for you to give her some room. “(Y/N), tesoro, let's go to bed…”
“Have you seen what time it is?” you asked again, blinking nervously and pointing at the clock. “It's 2 in the morning, Donna, and Stella isn't here.”
“Mm, okay…” the lady whispered in a sleepy voice.
“Okay?” you asked mockingly, watching as sleep devoured the brunette again. “Look, the mother of the year… Hey, hey, Donna.”
“(Y/N)…” the woman protested again, frowning.
“I told her to come home at 10, at 10! And she still hasn't come back,” you said impatiently, letting yourself fall on the couch. “This girl is going to kill me.”
“Leave her alone, she must be with her friends,” Donna commented, yawning again.
“You're always so worried, aren't you?” you said, crossing your arms. “What if something happened to her?”
“Nothing happened to her,” the lady corrected, rubbing her eye. “She's not a child. She knows how to take care of herself.”
“Sorry, honey, but I think she's actually a child, she's 15 years old,” you said, laughing ironically and nervously. “Besides, even if you're right, she's disobeyed me again.”
“Maybe you're too hard on her, she's a teenager, and she does teenage stuff,” the lady said, shaking her head. “You know she loves to contradict you.”
“Forgive me for trying to educate my daughter,” you said frowning. “Your daughter.”
“Stella will arrive any minute, stop worrying,” she said, getting closer to kiss your shoulder comfortingly.
“It's easy for you to say it,” you whispered, calmer due to her kisses, sighing and looking at the clock out of the corner of your eye. “Donna, I can't help but think about what I was like when I was her age and… Well, the, the consequences…”
“Mm?” Donna murmured confused. “What do you mean?”
“Um, well… remember that I… well… Stella was born precisely because I was careless and…”
“You weren't 15 years old,” she said, upset by the comment.
Of course it was a hurtful comment. No matter how much time passed, Donna would never understand the fact that you were very young, too young to be a mother. You weren't ready.
“I know, but…” you sighed, shaking your head. “Damn, she does this just to annoy me. I don't even know where she went, do you know anything? At least she talks to you.”
“Me? No, I don't know where she went,” Donna said, pointing at herself and smiling after a few moments. “But… well, I can think of a way to wait,” she whispered seductively, starting to kiss your neck.
You opened your eyes wide, and although the proposal seemed tempting, you rejected the woman in black with a gentle push.
“How can you think about doing that now?” you asked offended, earning another growl from Lady Beneviento, who crossed her arms with a snort. “Our daughter is missing and…” you said, looking around and fixing your gaze on a small figure that moved slowly so as not to attract attention. “Angie!”
“I’m not here!” the living doll shrieked, fleeing from your call.
“Come here!” you shrieked back, pointing at the floor authoritatively.
“What do you want, silly?” Angie asked, approaching little by little, but keeping her distance. “This is not the time to yell.”
“Yeah, well, nice try, but it won’t help,” you said triumphantly, grabbing one of her wooden arms. “Angie, my dear Angie… You don’t know where Stella is, do you?”
“Even if I did, I wouldn’t tell you, let her be,” the puppet protested, breaking free from your grip mockingly and running to her owner’s side.
“Angie, do you know where she is?” Donna asked, with a calmer, softer tone. “Come on, talk.”
“W-Well, maybe…” Angie murmured thoughtfully, but before she could say anything interesting, the discreet creaking of the door distracted you, making both of you turn your heads towards the entrance.
“Finally,” you said relieved, straightening your dress and walking slowly, controlling your anger. “Hey!” you shouted when you saw your daughter walking subtly, ready to go up the stairs. “Stella Beneviento! Come here, now!” you shrieked, stamping the floor impatiently.
The young woman walked slowly with a face of having been caught, lowering her head, trying not to look you in the eyes while playing with her unmistakable black hair.
“Are you, are you still awake? Wow…” the teenager commented, still unable to look at you directly.
“We are, what a setback, isn't it, young lady?” you said in a motherly tone. “Let's see... what time is it, Stella?”
“Um... I don't know, I forgot my watch,” your daughter said in a clueless tone, turning her ankle on the wooden floor.
“Oh, that's new. You make up better and better excuses,” you said in a mocking tone. “Don't worry, I'll tell you what time it is... it's... 2 in the morning!” you screamed furiously, getting closer to the young woman, who shrank in embarrassment.
“Really? Wow...” Stella said, seeking refuge in her mother, who silently watched the conversation without saying anything, as always.
“Look at me, young lady... you've gotten yourself into quite a mess,” you said in a stern tone, crossing your arms. “You're going to be grounded until the day of...”
“What? Why? It’s not fair,” young Beneviento protested, stamping her feet in a childish way. “I told you I forgot my watch.”
“Tell me, Stella, do I look like a fool?” you said ironically with a smug smile, blinking in the same way.
“Can I answer?” Angie intervened, pulling at your dress.
“Shut up,” you growled, causing the doll to take refuge behind its owner’s legs. “Donna, for the Gods’ sake… say something.”
The lady in black was startled but cleared her throat, walking towards her daughter.
“Mamma, io…” the girl murmured, lowering her head.
“Stella, è un po’ tardi, vero?” Donna asked in a soft tone, with a look that didn’t have the spark of anger it should.
“Lo so…” the young lady sighed. “Ma era la festa di Paola…”
“Paola?” you interrupted, putting a hand on the brunette's shoulder. “The butcher's daughter?”
“Y-Yes,” your daughter answered, looking at you briefly and then back to the eye of her dear mother, her protector, unfortunately. “I was having fun, so I didn't want to go home that soon.”
“It's not about what you want, Stella, it's about listening to what I tell you to do,” you said, with a calmer, but authoritative tone.
“If it were up to you, I wouldn't leave the house,” Stella murmured, looking away even further.
“What? That's not true,” you said in your defense, forcing the young lady to look at you. “Hey, look at me.”
“Lasciami,” the girl protested, struggling with your grip. “Mi stai infastidendo.”
“What? Am I annoying you? Is that what you said?” you asked, glancing at your wife. “Did she say that?”
The lady nodded slowly, sighing at the tense situation.
“Oh, excuse me, your royal highness…” you said in a mocking tone. “Don't worry, Stella, I won't annoy you anymore, especially since… You're grounded.”
“No!” the teenager protested, clenching her fists. “Why?”
“Disobeying me,” you said calmly, crossing your arms with a cold look. “Now stop protesting and go up to your room.”
“That's unfair!” the young girl shrieked, with a look of hatred that pierced your chest. “You can't ground me for that… Mamma…” she whispered in a pleading tone, looking at the brunette, who sighed, running a hand through her hair.
“Oh, no, no, Donna isn't going to defend you,” you said, looking away from your daughter to look at your wife, laughing sinisterly. “Isn't that right, Donna?”
“Um... well...” the doll maker murmured, moving you away from Stella, with a mediating tone. “Let it be, (Y/N), the girl has returned home safe and sound and...”
“I can't believe you, my love, the girl has disobeyed, she deserves a punishment,” you said incredulously, with your mouth half open.
“Forget it, (Y/N),” the lady said, gently grabbing your shoulder. “Stella was having fun with her friends, she wasn't doing anything wrong.”
“You see?” said the young girl, with a triumphant smile, resembling the Lord even more.
“I can't believe it...” you sighed, clenching your teeth. “Donna...”
“Hey, come on, it's okay... Tomorrow is another day, besides, Stella has learned the lesson, haven't you, signorina?” Donna said, hugging you affectionately despite your reluctance.
“Yes, I promise,” Stella said, rolling her eyes. “I'll be good, really.”
“Mm? How about that?” the brunette said amused, giving you a quick kiss on the cheek. “Go to your room, Stella, it's late and you should rest.”
“Yes, yes, right away,” your daughter said, approaching Donna and giving her a quick hug. “Ti voglio bene, mamma...”
“Anch'io, tesoro,” the lady whispered, kissing her daughter's forehead.
The young lady nodded and looked at you amused, discreetly sticking her tongue out at you in a mocking manner. You raised your eyebrows, but you weren't in the mood for another argument, so you ignored her teasing.
“Great,” you sighed, crossing your arms.
“Good night!” the girl said, gesturing to the doll, who immediately approached. “Come, Angie, I have to tell you many things.”
“Oh… girls' night,” the puppet said, letting Stella pick her up as they climbed the stairs.
Silence fell over you both as the bedroom door closed and you, slowly and menacingly, looked at Donna, who seemed in a hurry to escape from your darts.
“Wonderful, Donna,” you hissed, shaking your head. “Wonderful.”
“Come on, (Y/N), forget it,” she said, comically running away from the threatening footsteps approaching her. “It's fine this way.”
“It's fine this way? Ugh… Okay, I've had enough Beneviento for today, I'm going to bed,” you said, exhausted and worn out, passing by the lady in black, who quickly followed you so you wouldn't go down without her.
“W-Wait,” she said, following you to the elevator.
Another day in the hell of your happiness. Lying in bed, ready to pretend to be angry with the lady in black, you thought about your past, about all the events that led you to that situation, 15 years ago.
You were just another young girl from the village, another unfortunate soul who decided to be born in that sinister place. Your life was boring, but your youth gave you the advantage of seeing the bright side of things, or rather, the fun side. Your parents were always on your heels, trying to control you so your pranks didn't go too far.
Going out at night, having clandestine parties, playing dangerous challenges... At 18, that was your daily routine. As a rebellious young girl, you were the best, but also you were the most daring.
You can still feel the cold breeze of that night, when the fun got out of hand and your friends challenged you to a very dangerous challenge. The premise was simple: enter the grounds of Donna Beneviento and stay there for half an hour.
It wasn't the first time you'd snuck into a Lord’s territory, but you had to admit that this veiled woman, dressed in black, and her talking doll gave you the creeps. Of course you would have done anything to prove yourself to your friends, and as scary and dangerous as it was, you decided to accept the challenge.
Darkness was encroaching on you, and your brain was busy forming shadows with everything you could see. Still, you always considered yourself brave, and you didn't look back. Time was running out, and you were going to be the queen of the party again, but before you could take a step, danger appeared in front of you.
Donna Beneviento, the doll maker, the youngest of the four Lords, caught you. No matter how many times you humiliated yourself by begging this silent lady for mercy, to kneel in the snow, you knew it was your end.
Of course, it wasn't. Instead of nightmares and torture, you had a little chat with the lady in black (through her doll, of course). You had heard hundreds of horrible things about her, but it didn't take you long to see that you were a little bit wrong.
Visits to the estate weren’t long in coming, silent teas in which you both looked at each other, exchanged curious questions and hidden glances. Youth played against you, and it didn't take long for you to change that kind of platonic admiration for an irrational and intense love. Luckily, the lady was also interested in you, and so, your romance began.
Donna was a sick, strange and lonely woman. Her beauty struggled to show itself overshadowed by a horrible scar that you never gave importance to. You loved her, she loved you. According to you, Donna would always be the most beautiful woman in the world.
But your 18 years old weren’t enough to realize the possible consequences of your actions. The Black Gods seemed to have had too much fun with the lady in black, altering her body in an almost cruel way. Once again, it didn't matter to you in the slightest.
But not caring didn't mean you ignored the dangers of making love to her without protection. Donna didn't make any effort to do so either, but you should have known that, you knew her.
You were young and reckless, and that carelessness led to an improvised scenario, one that you, even today, you didn't feel ready for. The test didn't lie, you were pregnant.
Your emotions were a whirlwind that could devastate the entire village. You were afraid, angry, sad... Negative feelings about the new life that was on the way. Donna, on her part, saw your pregnancy as something... well, maybe not indifferent, but unimportant. You couldn't expect her to understand all your doubts, your reluctance to be a mother at such a young age.
Despite the disturbing news, the love you felt for her didn’t diminish, and, in order to calm the traditionalist way of think of the lady, you decided to marry her. After all, you already knew that she was the woman of your life. You knew it before carrying her child in your womb.
After a few months of extreme care, of insecurities you faced with Donna, a new life came into your life, a beautiful baby, a girl with visibly black hair and a charming smile. Stella Beneviento was born.
Taking care of such a fragile being was complicated, but, the two of you proved that you could do it. Holding your daughter in your arms calmed your fears, and, as she grew, you realized more and more that it was the life you wanted despite your young age.
You remembered what your daughter was like in that tender time of childhood. A nice, polite girl and, well… saying that she looked like Donna was only the surface. She was a damn clone of the lady in black.
Adorable, cheerful… That girl was amazing, she was the daughter you always dreamed of, and the one Donna loved with all her heart.
It was a wonderful time that ended abruptly with the first disagreement you had with Stella. Her rebelliousness, one of the few things she had inherited from you, soon began to cause problems. Running away, disobeying, saying bad words (surely due to Angie's bad influence)… All of that became a routine that only got worse.
Donna was a good mother, she really was, but she did spoil young Beneviento too much, something you warned her about at an early age, but she didn't pay any attention to it. You reap what you sow, they used to say.
Your 33 years weren't enough, not even… well, you never really knew Donna's age, and the fact that she didn't get old didn't help at all: it didn't matter; the thing is that you were young, and inexperienced.
You couldn't help but feel that you didn't have the experience required to handle your unruly daughter, and besides, Donna wasn't behaving as she should, spoiling her daughter, something you were convinced she wouldn't stop doing.
“What are my girls doing?” you asked the next day at noon, bringing a steaming pot to the table.
Mother and daughter were sitting on the sofa, sewing, or at least trying to.
“Così?” young Stella asked, greeting you disinterestedly.
“Mm...” Donna murmured, glancing at the fabric her daughter was sewing proudly, smiling tenderly. “Buon lavoro, Stella.”
“Grazie, mamma,” the girl said, smiling triumphantly as you approached. “Hey, hey, I haven't done anything.” she said frightened, making a peace gesture with her hands, to which you frowned.
“I know that,” you said, rolling your eyes. “Do you think I'm always going to tell you off?”
“Well, you always do,” she replied, in a petulant tone. “Mamma is teaching me how to sew.”
“Mm, that's fine,” you said, nodding, playfully pinching the teenager's cheek, which made your daughter make an embarrassing gesture. “How is it going, Donna? Is she a worthy successor?”
“The best successor,” the lady said, kissing you softly on the lips.
“Hey, don't do that! How disgusting…” Stella protested, looking away while you laughed in amusement.
“That's it, you disgusting cheesy fools!” Angie added, climbing onto your daughter's lap. “Get out, out, out…”
“Hey, give me a break,” you joked, reluctantly moving away from the brunette's lips, who laughed with her eye shining. “Well, Donna, honey, let's eat.”
“Great, tesoro… it smells wonderful,” the lady said with a tender smile, getting up from the sofa.
“Hey… the table isn't set,” Stella murmured, surely knowing what was coming. “Oh…”
“Run, Stella, run before…!” Angie shrieked, pulling on the young Beneviento's dress.
“You're not going anywhere, young lady,” you said amused, grabbing the shoulder of your daughter, who gulped comically. “Set the table, will you?”
“You always do the same, what's the problem with setting it yourself?” she protested with a childish tantrum, crossing her arms.
“I've cooked. When you cook, I'll set the table. Come on, don't complain,” you said with an authoritarian tone, pointing to the cupboard where the plates were kept.
“You're worse than a sergeant,” the teenager growled. “I don't want to set the table.”
“Stella, please, can't you be a good girl for once?” you asked, rubbing your eyes, feeling frustrated by your daughter's ever-rebellious attitude, one that seemed like it would never change.
“I don't want to,” the young lady said, looking away.
“Hey, come on…” Donna interrupted, grabbing your waist to make her way through you two. “Listen to your mother, Stella.”
“Ma, mamma… it's always me,” your daughter said, looking at you resentfully.
“Well, it's not like she asked you to climb a mountain, right?” the lady joked, tilting her head, amused. “Come on, tesoro, we'll set it together, okay?”
“O-Okay, that sounds better,” Stella said with a triumphant smile, probably holding back the urge to make fun of you again.
“Oh, you two are hopeless…” you sighed, shaking your head. “Hurry up, or it's going to get cold.”
The lady and her clone, oh, sorry, her daughter, set the table amidst playful comments. At least you expected it to be a quiet meal, that's what you wanted to hope for…
“What's this?” the girl asked, dipping her spoon into the plate and playing unpleasantly with the liquid inside.
“A delicious, warm vegetable soup,” you said, serving yourself and Donna a glass of wine.
“Delicious? It has to be a joke,” the young lady said, crossing her arms with a look of disgust. “Mom, I don't like it.”
“Oh, your majesty doesn't like it…” you said ironically, shaking your head while Donna, oblivious to the conversation, began to eat on her own. “Well, I'm sorry, but it is what it is.”
“I don't like vegetable soup, I want mamma to make me pasta carbonara,” said the girl, grumbling and pushing her plate forward.
“Your mother is eating. Leave her alone, she's not your servant. Eat,” you said in a patient tone, enjoying the warmth of the soup
“But I don't like this soup,” she repeated again, with a defiant look. “Mamma…”
“Eat, tesoro, your mother made it with all her love,” Donna said, without looking up.
“No, she made it to annoy me, she knows I hate vegetables,” the brat said, looking at you furiously.
“Stop talking nonsense and eat,” you said with a loud hiss, but without losing your patience, yet.
“No,” she said defiantly. “I want mamma’s pasta.”
“Do you? Fine, then don’t eat,” you sighed, taking a sip of wine as Donna watched, impassive. “That’s your decision.”
“Oh, you want to starve me to death?” Stella said, pointing at herself to be more dramatic.
“Stella Beneviento,” you said firmly. “Eat your damn soup.”
“Oh, Mom, you swore,” your daughter mocked, making you growl in rage.
“That’s enough,” you said, slamming the table, causing Donna to slowly get up, without saying anything, and disappear down the hall. “Donna?”
The tense glances increased the tension of the moment. Your daughter looked at you and you did the same, in complete silence, an exchange of glances that could melt the largest iceberg in the world.
“Prego,” Donna whispered, appearing after a while and leaving a plate of steaming pasta next to her daughter.
“I can't believe it...” you sighed when you saw Stella's excited look at her new meal. “Donna...”
“I don't want you to argue, (Y/N). It's already solved,” the lady commented, sitting down again.
“Grazie, mamma...” the teenager said, with admiration, eating while holding back the urge to smile triumphantly again. “You are the best.”
“Donna...” you growled looking at the brunette, who shrugged and continued eating as if nothing had happened.
Luckily, that calmed the meal, turning into something like a relaxed lunch.
“Oh, keep my dessert, I have to go,” the young girl said, finishing her plate and getting up from the chair.
“Go? Where to?” Donna asked, with a curious look.
“I'm meeting my friends, it's Roberto's birthday,” the girl answered, looking at you briefly.
“I think you're grounded, young lady,” you said with an ironic tone.
“I think I’m not. Mamma Donna said I wasn’t,” the young lady answered, putting on her coat.
“Mamma Donna says a lot of nonsense,” you corrected, looking at an embarrassed lady in black, who pretended to drink water. “This afternoon you're going to stay home to work on your studies.”
“It's Saturday,” Stella said, crossing her arms. “Stop pestering me.”
“And you stop being that… Ugh…” you said, getting up abruptly. “Oh, no, you're not going out.”
“But…”
“I said no, clear the table,” you said sternly, pointing at it.
“I don't feel like it,” your daughter rebuked, in a mocking tone.
“Well then… then… go to your room and stay there,” you said nervously, losing patience little by little.
“Mm, va bene,” she said, with a strange smile, obeying you immediately, something that was not a good sign, at all.
“Va bene? Stella… come, come back here,” you said angrily, pointing at the floor. “Stella!”
You couldn't do anything.
As you could already see, the teenager wouldn't take no for an answer, and it wasn't long before you heard some familiar noises on the roof. Your daughter had escaped again, climbing out the window.
You were so tired that you could only collapse into a chair.
“Gods... she's out again, Donna... I don't know what to do anymore,” you murmured with your hands covering your face, on the verge of tears.
The lady in black slowly stood up, bending down to take one of your hands and gently caress it.
“Oh, damn it...” you groaned, getting up and walking out the door. “Stella, I hope you're here before dinner!”
“Yes, mom!”  You heard in the distance.
“Ugh...” you sighed, letting the lady in black hug you. “She's going to finish me off.”
“Shh, calm down, tesoro…” Donna whispered in your ear, gently brushing your hair away from your face. “Calm down…”
“Donna, if only you had moved away in time…” you said quietly, remembering past mistakes. “I-It doesn't matter…”
“Mm, let me pick up the dishes, and you, try to relax, I'll be with you in no time,” she said, kissing you softly before disappearing with an understanding smile.
You heeded her words, sitting down on the couch with a tired sigh. There, you began to remember better times, times when your daughter wasn't an unbearable brat but a happy baby, a polite and respectful girl.
Searching through a box of old memories, you found one of the old photographs from when Stella was little more than a crying baby. Your face was a smile, and Donna looked in admiration at the baby you held.
It was all so rushed and Stella grew up so fast…
“My girl,” you whispered, running your hand over one of the photos in which young Beneviento was the protagonist, one in which the girl lovingly hugged Angie. “Have I done something wrong?” you asked yourself, thinking, with the passage of time and failures, that the girl's indomitable attitude was your fault.
“I'm here,” Donna said, finally appearing and sitting next to you.
You hid one of your tears and kissed her slowly, snuggling up to her.
“Are you looking at the photos? We haven't changed much, have we?” the lady said, amused, also searching through the photographs, comically placing one of them next to her face.
“How funny,” you said in a mocking tone. “You haven't changed at all,” you whispered, sinking into her body, a gesture that the lady in black captured, surrounding you with her arms.
“Mm,” she murmured, snuggling you into her chest while she caressed your hair, kissing it in a loving, charming way. “Stella is certainly the one who has changed the most.”
“Yes…” you sighed deeply, closing your eyes to feel her caresses even more. “She is too much like me.”
“That's not a bad thing, right?” she asked, with a soft and melodic voice, one that you adored.
“Yes, it is… Physically it's just like you, but with my stupid teenage mentality,” you said, looking at one of the last black and white photographs (due to the time delay that place suffered). “It's a dangerous combination.”
“Do you think so?” the doll maker asked amused, kissing you again and bringing you closer to her warm body. “It could be.”
“Donna, I… I'm, I'm going through a bad time,” you confessed, putting away the photographs and drawings of little Stella. “I don't know what to do.”
“A bad time? What's wrong, tesoro?” the lady asked, with a more worried tone.
“Stella is making me crazy… I try, I really try to make her a good girl but… she never listens to me and… I'm starting to get desperate, Donna, I'm starting to think that I'm not a good mother, that I haven't known how to educate our daughter.”
“Don't say that,” Donna whispered, caressing your face, lifting your chin so that you would look at her. “You're a good mother, (Y/N), the best one.”
“It doesn't seem like it…” you sighed. “Stella is getting older every day and I feel, I feel I'm not capable of… of even making her see me as her mother, do you understand? I think she hates me.”
“That's not true, Stella loves you very much, you're her mommy, remember? Mommy, mommy, the monsters in the closet scare me,” she said, imitating the voice of a little girl, something that, at least, made you smile.
“Those times are long gone,” you said with nostalgia, shaking your head and letting a tear slide down your cheek. “I wish I could go back and... it doesn't matter, Donna, just, just hold me, okay?”
“With pleasure, amore mio...” the doll lady whispered, letting you drown your tears in her clothes, a cry of desperation and rage, of frustration, that the lady in black knew how to understand and relieve.
The afternoon passed like that, with a relaxing silence, with her kisses, whispers and caresses relaxing your worries, at least until the shrill sound of the phone interrupted that peaceful tranquility.
“I'll go, darling,” you said, moving away from her embrace to go to the vibrating phone. “(Y/N) Beneviento on the phone, who is it?”
“Oh, I was hoping to talk to Donna, but I guess you'll do,” the smug, mocking voice on the other end told you, without words, who it was.
“Karl…” you whispered, rolling your eyes as you recognized the Lord. “What do you want?”
“What manners,” the man mocked, laughing amused. “Am I interrupting something?”
“Yes, my life, do you want to talk to Donna?” you asked, looking at the lady, who frowned, absentmindedly playing with Angie, surely excited by the call, as always.
“It's not necessary… I'm just calling you to say that my dear little niece had a lot of fun this afternoon,” he said passively, immediately putting you on alert.
“What?” you asked startled. “Stella?”
“Yeah, yeah... Apparently she and her friends thought it was funny to sneak into my factory and waste my resources,” he commented, with the same arrogance.
“Gods... what happened?” you asked nervously, playing with the phone cord while Donna also approached.
“Your kid broke into my factory with two of her friends, activated two of my soldats and created a mess that I had to clean up myself...”
“Shit,” you said furiously. “Is she okay?”
“Perfectly fine, she's here, with me… hey, brat, do you want to talk to your mother? No? I assumed so,” Karl said, laughing mockingly. “I guess you want her back, right?”
“Y-Yes, bring her here, please,” you asked, breathing heavily.
“Of course...”
After that you hung up abruptly, growling furiously.
“What's wrong, (Y/N)? What happened?” Donna asked, calming your frightened fury.
“Your daughter, Donna, that's what happened,” you hissed, moving away from the lady in an unpleasant manner. “She's sneaked into your brother's factory and… Gods…”
The wait seemed like an eternity to you, but finally the Lord arrived next to your daughter, who kept her head down.
“This is yours, right?” the metal man said, gently pushing his niece.
“Karl, I'm sorry for the inconvenience,” you said apologetically while Donna followed her daughter with her gaze. “If there's something we can do…”
“Oh, no, no, it's not important. It's just kids' stuff, isn't it?” he said, turning gracefully and waving his hand. “Arrivederci…”
“Um…” the teenager muttered, scratching the back of her neck, possibly nervous because of your furious look as you closed the door and turned to look at her, arms crossed. “I'd better go to my room.”
“Hey, hey, hey… Not so fast, miss,” you said, preventing her escape with a strong grip on her arm. “What the hell were you thinking?”
“Hey, I didn't do anything. My friends challenged me and…” the young lady said, pathetically apologizing.
Donna as always, just watched, perhaps with a colder than usual expression.
“Of course, your friends… How could you possibly sneak into your uncle's factory!? Have you lost your mind? You could have hurt yourself,” you snapped, shaking your head, still holding on to your daughter.
“Nothing happened to me, see? I'm fine,” she said cockily. “I was just having fun. Besides, Uncle Karl doesn't care.”
“Maybe he doesn’t because he's a crazy maniac, but I do, Stella, I'm sick of you doing whatever you want all the time,” you growled, waving your arm and pointing your finger at her, who moved furiously, pushing you in an unpleasant way.
“You’re not in charge!” she shrieked childishly, clenching her fists on either side of her hips.
“I'm your mother, Stella! You have to obey me!” you shouted, tears welling up in your eyes again.
“Are you my mother?” she asked, in a defiant tone, getting a little closer. “Did you want to be?”
“What? What the hell are you talking about?” you asked, shaking your head and blinking erratically.
“I know! I know you didn't love me! That I was just a mistake!” your daughter shrieked, leaving you frozen.
“You don't know what you're saying,” you hissed, terribly hurt by the comment. “You have no idea…”
“Of course I have, you don't have to be a genius to see that you're very young,” Stella said, taking advantage of your weakness. “You're only overprotective because you didn't know how to be with yourself, and that's why I was born!”
“Stop talking like that, brat, you're pissing me off…” you threatened more intensely. “Stop talking nonsense.”
“It's not nonsense! You're demanding something from me that you weren't capable of doing!” she protested again, irremediably winning the conversation.
“I demand you to obey me, Stella!” you screamed, increasing the tension even more. “Donna!” you said, looking at the lady in black, who listened to the screams expressionless while you began to sob. “For the Gods’ sake, do something!”
“You ask her for help because you know I'm right,” Stella said with a mocking smile, while you shook your head. “Don't blame me for your complexes.”
“Go to your room!” you yelled angrily, pointing to the stairs.
“No! You're unbearable, mom!” the young lady yelled back, making you back away. “I can't stand you... I don't love you... I wish you weren't my mother,” she hissed through clenched teeth, making you sigh and sob louder.
“Honey...” you said with a broken voice, noticing a hand on your shoulder that moved you a bit. “No…”
Donna approached, walking with a somewhat hurried steps and a nervous breathing.
Without saying a single word, with a look full of anger, she stood in front of your daughter, giving her a resounding slap that left the mansion completely silent.
“Mamma…” Stella sighed, with the hand on her cheek and her eyes wide open.
You shook your head, surprised by what you had just seen, unable to believe it.
“Donna…” you gasped, without taking your gaze off the silently enraged lady, who was staring your daughter's eyes and getting a little closer, threatening.
“Don't ever talk your mother like that again, have you heard me?” she whispered with a dark, dangerous, authoritative voice, a voice like yours had never been. “Mi hai sentito!?”
“S-Sì…” Stella murmured, stunned, looking in terror at her mother, who remained surprisingly firm.
“Fine,” Donna said, hands on hips. “Now go to your room, and don't come out until you apologize to your mother.”
“But…”
“Go to your room! Vai!” the lady in black shrieked, pressing her lips tightly together and pointing at the stairs. “Vai!”
“Sì, mamma,” the teenager whispered, turning slowly and picking Angie, her silent defender, up from the floor. “Co-Come on Angie…”
“You'll pay for this, silly Donna!” the doll shouted, making mocking gestures in the arms of the young lady, who climbed the stairs sobbing.
“Shut your mouth or I'll deactivate you!” Donna shrieked, causing the doll to take refuge even in the arms of her young owner. “Cazzo…”
“Donna,” you said, leaving some time for the lady to calm down and approaching from behind, turning her body slowly. “Gods, Donna…”
“What?” she asked with her gaze still enraged. “I haven't done anything to her, it was more of a caress than a slap,” she said defending herself against what she thought was a protest from you.
“I know, my love… Wow, so you do have character,” you said smiling, noticing a lustful feeling forming inside you, an unexpected one.
“I won't allow anyone to insult you, (Y/N), not even that brat,” the lady said, without hugging you back, looking away. “You're right, she needs manners.”
“Mm, yes… and you're going to teach them to her, aren't you, my love?” you purred in her ear, making her hands go straight to your waist and her brow furrow.
“If it's necessary, I will do it,” Donna said, sure of herself. “She won't insult you again, you have my word.”
“Oh, I like your word,” you said with a velvety voice, approaching her lips slowly, devouring them wetly, startling the lady in black, who moved away confused.
“Um, what, what are you doing?” she asked, holding your wrists, which were already starting to play with her dress. “(Y/N)?”
“It's just that... seeing you so... authoritative, so... firm...” you said, playing with your finger on her chest, one that her eye followed with curiosity. “Donna, you've turned me on.”
“Me hitting our daughter has turned you on?” the lady asked, surprised and horrified.
“No, silly...” you said, shaking your head and pulling her hand towards the living room. “What has turned me on is… seeing you defend me like that… I’ve wanted to see you that way for a long time.”
“(Y/N), please, I don’t…” she said, nervous, while you cornered her against the desk, changing positions with a soft movement of your hands and sitting on the old wooden table.
“Shh, shut up, my love…” you whispered in her ear, bringing her closer with a soft tug on her dress. “Now, tell me how naughty I am…”
“(Y/N), it’s not the time for… (Y/N),” Donna said, opening her eye wide when your hand passed over the black fabric, noticing the incipient bulge that revealed his erection at your words. “H-Hey… don’t…”
“Oh, wow, I think so, my love,” you said amused, tightening your grip on her covered shaft, causing the lady in black to gasp irresistibly. “Look at you… You’re so hard…”
“I-It's your fault,” she said, shaking her head, but allowing herself to enjoy your intense grip. “Cazzo…”
“Don't swear, Donna,” you said amused, playing with your underwear until you pushed it aside, with your lips very close to hers. “I prefer you to use that mouth of yours to kiss me.”
“Oddio…” she sighed, finally letting herself be carried away by your deep kisses, by the soft swaying of your hips on the desk. “(Y/N)…”
“My love… I love you…” you sighed, noticing how her impatient hands fought with the skirt of her dress, releasing her throbbing erection while playing with your body to position it correctly.
That improvised declaration of love made the lady stop before brushing against your impatient wetness, briefly caressing your face.
“Ti amo, (Y/N)… tu sei la mia vita,” she whispered, taking a moment to kiss you romantically, ignoring her throbbing desire, which was already rubbing against yours.
“Mm, baby…” you purred, laughing embarrassedly at those hot and romantic whispers. “Come, I don't know how much time we have.”
Quickly, ignoring the foreplay, you gently grabbed her erection, stimulating it for a while before inserting it into you with ease, something that always made you moan outrageously.
“Shh, tesoro…” Donna whispered to you, covering your mouth, fighting against her own pleasure. “Not that loud.”
“Mm, I'm sorry… you're so big,” you moaned, writhing in pleasure at how your walls stretched to make way for her hurried thrusts. “Donna, Gods…”
The lady growled as she felt the pressure of your body on hers, as she felt that lascivious and wet embrace, as she slid with extreme ease. Of course, you weren't lying when you told her that the situation had turned you on.
That Donna defended you with rage, with fury, was something you always loved, something that made you remember every day why you loved her, why you started such a wonderful family with her.
“Fuck, yes! Oh, Donna, dominate me! Harder, my love!” you moaned loud, succumbing to the pleasure and forgetting about discretion as her thrusts accelerated and her moans lost their modesty as well.
“That's what you want, isn't it?” the lady said amused, coming out of you to grab you by the waist, turning you around abruptly, causing an annoying noise as it made the things on the desk shake. “You're a very bad doll…”
“Yes, yes, I'm the worst!” you squealed, moving eager to feel her again, rubbing your hips against her erection, one that was quick to take you from behind, moving you along with the table. “Yes, Donna, yes, fuck me!”
“Mm, così stretta…” the lady murmured, gripping your hips tightly, guiding them to her desired rhythm, only letting them go to give you a few soft, spicy spanks, completely lifting your dress.
“More, Donna!” you screamed, feeling your body tightening more and more, motivated by the moans and grunts of pleasure from the brunette. “Donna, I'm going to… I'm going to cum!”
“Cazzo! (Y/N)!” the lady screamed, panting as your body went crazy, squeezing her with your walls, causing her own release inside of you, wetting you with her warm seed. “(Y/N)…”
“Mm, Donna, that was…” you said laughing, moving your hips with her still inside you and feeling the wetness running down your legs. “…amazing”.
“Y-Yes…” she said, slowly withdrawing and covering herself with her dress, pulling yours down as well. “I-I hope Stella didn't hear us,” she said, catching her breath as you turned around, capturing her lips briefly.
“Bah, I'm sure she didn’t,” you said, teasingly pulling on her lower lip. “Well… How about we take a bath? We've earned it.”
“Certo,” Donna said, with a tired smile. “I'll make dinner later.”
“It's a perfect plan, my love,” you whispered, walking hand in hand with her towards the elevator.
Of course it was. A relaxing bath with your wife managed to dispel that bitter moment, the argument with your daughter that Donna miraculously solved. You didn't want to think about it too much, but you couldn't help but think about whether that severe, but necessary, attitude of the lady of the dolls had served any purpose.
“Stella! Dinner is ready!” you shouted, looking at the stairs, a bit calmer. “I really want to try this lasagna…”
“Mm, that's what you always say,” Donna said, winking at you with complicity, due to that passionate outburst earlier. “Where's the girl?”
“I've already called her, she's probably still upset,” you commented, pouring yourself a glass of wine and looking back at the hall. “Stella! Come down, we have lasagna!”
Nothing, silence was your only response.
“Do you think…?” the lady in black asked, frowning.
“Gods, I should have imagined…” you sighed, standing up hastily. “She's run away again.”
Just when you were about to go through the whole territory to look for your rebellious daughter, the teenager appeared before you. Her head was looking at the floor and Angie accompanied her in silence.
“Well, you've finally decided to come down, come…” you sighed, gently pushing the young lady by her back. “Your mother made lasagna for you.”
“Grazie, mamma,” the young Beneviento murmured, without looking into her mother's eye, surely resentful of that ridiculous slap.
“Mm, niente,” Donna said, with a slightly petulant tone. “Siedeti.”
The young girl nodded and obeyed silently.
Yes, silence would be a good summary for that dinner.
“Um… Mom,” Stella said, with her gaze lowered, addressing you cautiously.
“What do you want, darling?” you asked with a tender smile, looking at Donna, who did the same.
“I'm sorry,” the young woman whispered. “I'm sorry about saying… those things to you.”
“Mm,” you murmured, listening attentively. “Good.”
“I really am… well I… I was angry because Uncle Karl caught me and… I mean I shouldn't have done it and… I shouldn't have… talked to you like that… Will you forgive me, Mom?” Stella said, now looking at you pleadingly.
“Oh, honey, of course I will,” you said with a smile, caressing your daughter's cheek. She stood up and, along with a sob, hugged you tightly.
“I'm sorry, Mom… what I said isn't true, I love you very much, I love you both very much and… I promise, I promise to behave better from now on, I'll be a good girl…” she said sobbing, letting your hug comfort her.
“Really?” you said suspiciously, glancing sideways at Donna, who smiled tenderly. “Honey…”
“Yes, really, but… Angie and I have something else to ask you,” your daughter said, moving away and turning exaggeratedly red. “A-Angie…”
“Listen carefully!” the doll said, causing you and the lady to look at each other with an arched eyebrow. “You disgusting fools!”
“Angie… What is it? Stella?” the brunette asked, curiously.
“Please don't… don't… do… that… again… in the living room… or… or at least don't shout that loud… You're going to cause me trauma…”
112 notes · View notes
novantinuum · 4 months ago
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Fandom: Steven Universe Rating: Gen Words: 2.8K~ Summary: Not too long after making peace with Homeworld and sparking the start of Era 3, Steven wakes up one morning to discover some... notable changes about himself.
AKA: The one where Steven finally hits his growth-spurt. All at once. Because of course the half-Gem kid could never experience such a human thing like puberty in a "normal" way.
[Part 1 of 2]
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Just a few seconds later, knuckles rap against the door in answer to his perturbed cry. 
“Yo Steve-o, that you in there?” Amethyst calls. 
“Y-yeah?” he stammers. His brows threading inwards, he delicately runs his fingers over the ridge upon his throat, very much thrown off by the distinctly lower tenor of the sound coming from his own mouth. He swallows hard, pushing himself to speak again. Come on Steven, he berates himself, think of something lighthearted. This doesn’t have to be a bad thing. No need to completely freak out over this yet. “Who else would I be? It’s not like the whole town uses this bathroom…”
“I mean, I do sometimes. For fun.”
“Okay, fair point, but—”
“Dude, what’s wrong with your voice? Are you like, sick or somethin’?“
“No, it’s just—” 
He squeezes his eyes shut, blocking out all the nebulous, spinning distractions of his mind and the world beyond. Deep breath. It’s okay. Tons of things about his form may be entirely different right now, but like… he seems fine. Right?? Nothing about his body feels tangibly wrong like it did when he willfully stretched himself out on his 14th birthday, or when he changed all his fingers into cats, or when he lost all control of his aging and morphed into an anciently old man and almost died, it’s just… 
New.
New and wholly unfamiliar.
So what now? How can he bravely move forward with all this? What does he need to know? 
“Have, uh… have you ever shapeshifted by accident in your sleep?”
“Not that I‘m aware of,” she says, and he can practically hear the shrug in her tone. “Shapeshifting is a conscious thing you do. It’s a choice, y’know? It doesn’t just happen.”
A good long moment passes as he drinks this information in. He runs his hand through the short curls at the back of his neck as he stands there in the pair of too-small banana yellow pajamas he fit in just fine last night, musing.
“Huh… I guess that makes things pretty simple, then.”
“What d’ya’—”
“Amethyst, I think I’m finally older,” he says, still absolutely mystified by this prospect as he gawks at himself in the mirror. 
She gives a fond laugh. “Ch’a, right? You get older everyday, bud. Wild.”
“No, I mean I’m actually, physically older! Look!”
Steven whirls around and swings the bathroom door wide open to show her. Amethyst’s jaw drops.
“Whoa—! Dude!”
Chuckling nervously, he steps a few feet out, wriggling his bare toes against the wood floor. “I know, right?”
“What the heck, you weren’t kidding!” Before he can even move to say anything else, she spins on her heels and cups her mouth with her hands, hollering towards the temple door. “HEY, PEARL! GARNET! You gotta get out here and see this!”
His brows shoot towards his hairline, his heart hammering in his chest all the while at the thought of all the dumb show-and-tell he’s gonna have to deal with now. “Aww, come on, did you really have to—”
“Amethyst!” Pearl cries, scrambling through the still opening gap in the doorway with Garnet striding mere steps behind. She summons her spear from her gem and swings it to fighting stance with an artful flourish. “What happened? Where’s the threat? What do you need us for??”
Steven darts towards them, hands held up in a placating plea.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa! There’s no danger! We’re fine. I just—”
“Oh, my stars—!” she gasps, allowing her spear to dissipate in a glittery flicker of light. “You’ve grown!”
“Nice look, Steven,” Garnet nods, a supportive smile gracing her lips.
“And you’re sure this is real this time? You’re not—?”
“No, no, I’m not stretching myself out, I promise. I just woke up like this.”
“B-but—” Pearl taps her fingers against her chin, appearing thoroughly puzzled— “I thought humans were supposed to age gradually, not all at once.”
Steven’s shoulders slump. “Well… that’s what I assumed too, but—”
“Come, sit with me,” Garnet says, walking around the warp pad to enter the living room. She sets herself down on the couch, patting the cushion in open invitation.
With a heavy, far too weary for his age sigh, Steven shoves his hands in the pockets of his too-small banana pajamas and plods his way over. The rest of the Gems follow suit. He settles himself right next to Garnet, with Pearl perched opposite to her and Amethyst happily lounging on the floor, leaning on the coffee table with her elbows. 
“Steven’s aging hasn’t aligned with the norms of humanity for a very long time,” she observes, a glint of morning sun that’s beaming through the window catching on the edge on the edge of her star shaped visor. Then, turning to him: “I’m curious why you think this is.”
He hums, considering all the chaotic happenings of the past few years. Despite the rare query she poses, he gets the sense that… in her vast wisdom… she already knows the answer. Or at least, a small sum of it. It should be noted that her future vision— as far-reaching as it otherwise is with the vast possibilities of existence— can’t ever touch any knowledge that she won’t be conscious for or present to receive, let alone retroactively scry into the past.
(And honestly? Thank goodness for that.)
“I’m not sure,” he says, a half-lie.
He can think of one reason he might’ve started aging again. Though, it’s not something he’s ready to talk to the Gems about yet. It’s… far too delicate a topic to risk bringing up so soon after the start of peaceful Era 3. But after spending a whole childhood being constantly compared to and mistaken as various versions of his mom… let’s just say, having his gem torn from his body and getting to see it reform into a version of himself (and not her) was simultaneously the worst and the best thing that could’ve ever happened to him. While undeniably traumatic, this experience served as the ultimate proof that he doesn’t have to waste another second of his existence chewing away at some burgeoning identity crisis, that he can live his life however he wants. As Steven. Not as Rose, or Pink Diamond, just… Steven.
He’s not exactly sure how all this mental weirdness translates into him staying stuck looking like a little kid for like… six or so years, but after he returned home from his latest escapade on Homeworld, he could sense that— despite all the messed up stuff he and Connie went through— his spirit was lighter, somehow.
So maybe, he thinks, he simply had to peel away at all the damaged layers of his identity to ready himself to move on to the next stage of his life. Maybe he had to stare death in the eye and pass through the heart of the storm in spite of all these hardships before he could piece the foundational truths of his story back together and learn to finally live again.
To start shifting his hopeful gaze towards the dawn of their bright, sunny future…
“I mean, I always kinda thought he stopped aging because we never did,” Amethyst says then, laying her cheek on the table. “Like, it happened around the time you moved in with us, yeah?”
He purses his lips, scanning his memory. “Uh… I think so? It might have been a year before. Two, even. But I was definitely hanging out with y’all a lot by then.”
She leans over and playfully slugs him in the arm.
“See, there you go! You always wanted to be just like us when you were a kid, so much that you even wore that same ol’ star shirt every day to match ours, ha! You must’ve wanted to be a Gem so badly that you subconsciously stopped becoming older at all.”
“That’s actually a pretty solid theory, Amethyst,” Pearl chimes in. “Good thinking!”
“We have seen you shift your form in response to your perception of others around you,” Garnet says with a nod. “This has caused you to temporarily age and shapeshift in the past, but for you to age in a stable way now, your perception of self must have stabilized, too. I’m very happy for you, Steven.”
She tousles his mess of curls with her gold ringed hand, a welcome little offering of affection that he eagerly leans into.
And then, out of nowhere, Amethyst starts cackling.
“Dude,” she blurts out between her peels of laughter, nudging his foot with her elbow, “I just realized— Greg’s gonna totally lose his shit when he sees this…”
Pearl’s expression scrunches inwards with prickly displeasure. “Language!” 
“What, it’s true!”
He waves Amethyst’s comment off. “Pshhh, my dad’s seen way weirder,” he says, rolling his eyes. “Like, did I ever tell y’guys how the cat fingers incident ended?”
“No!” the quartz exclaims with intensive fervor, and leans forward in anticipation. “Gimme the juicy deets, m’man!”
Garnet adjusts her visor then, her features falling into a dutiful line. “Speaking of Greg… story time can wait until later. Steven— if you want to see your father this morning, you need to head over there now… or there’s a good chance he’ll fall back asleep until one and you’ll miss your window.”
Amethyst’s lips fall into a pout as she slumps back against the foot of the couch, her arms crossed. “Awww, phooey. Spoil sport.”
He swallows a grimace as he internalizes Garnet’s prediction. Yeah, that sounds about right. That’s become a bad habit for his old man lately, staying up super late and then sleeping in almost half the day on weekends. Ever since he received that ten million dollar residues check it’s nothing that can hinder his financials anymore, thank goodness, but then again…
“Yeah… I should probably go make sure he wakes up,” he mutters, pushing his tired body off his seat. “I’ll need his help finding new clothes, anyways.”
The second he’s up and moving again, Amethyst darts around him and snatches his spot with such swift and viscous drive that one might believe this ploy were her sole quest and purpose in life. She stretches out against the seat back with a big, dramatic yawn, crossing her arms behind her head as she speaks. 
“It’s too bad you can’t just… I dunno… summon whatever clothes you want out of light, like us. That’s like the biggest bummer of humanity, if you ask me.”
“And when do you ever experiment with your outfit enough to have a strong opinion about this?” Pearl prods, crossing her arms. “It took you almost a decade to fix that asymmetrical shoulder strap.”
“Well, P… I like to think of myself as a Gem who would experiment with my outfit. One day. If I’m ever really, really bored. Consider it an Era 3 aspiration.”
Steven rocks back and forth on his heels, absentmindedly fiddling with the fraying bottom hem of his pajama top.
“Okay, uh… well, I’m gonna dress to leave now, so—”
“Yeah, see ‘ya.”
“Send a text if you need anything!” Pearl says with a casual wave.
“And don’t forget…” Garnet begins, the ellipses in her tone practically visible with the naked eye.
He pauses in his dutiful march to the stairs— (a somewhat unsteady march… as it turns out, shooting up about a foot and a half in height overnight tends to impact one’s sense of balance for the worst, go figure)— turning back to intercept whatever life advice or future vision she’s prepared for him this time. 
She grins, flashing him a quick heart with her hands instead. “We love you!”
~~
Steven trudges across the hot sands to his dad’s car wash sans his favorite flip flops, trying his very darnedest to wipe away the developing grimace on his face all the while. 
A small segment of him felt overjoyed when he first saw his reflection this morning, eager to look his age and finally grow up alongside his human friends. But after struggling to find anything that fits him even halfway right in his wardrobe, his good mood has rapidly spoiled. There’s a decent few reasons for this.
Reason number one: his old sandals are at least two sizes too small. His heels stick out over the end now, and the plastic thong digs into his toes something terrible. He literally can’t wear them without giving himself blisters. Ergo, his bare feet right now. 
Reason number two: none of his jeans sit right around the waist anymore, plus they make him look like he’s waiting for a flood. (Though thankfully, he found a stretchy blue skirt buried in one of his drawers that will do the trick for now.) 
And perhaps worst of all… reason number three: with his newly increased height, every single one of his treasured star shirts have been turned into ill-fitting crop tops, putting his gem on full display. He’s not against the concept of a crop top, but it sure ain’t a look he’s passionate about for everyday wear. It just feels… too exposing. Like, what about winter?? He can’t bear his whole midriff in winter, he’d freeze, and like… get hypothermia, or something. And not only that, but the longer he’s awake this morning the more an inescapable, thrumming ache starts to settle within the deepest core of his body, like even his bones themselves— the stubborn things— dare to object to this abrupt growth spurt.
Just… ugh. What an annoying hassle all these changes bring.  
“Stupid shirt,” he grouses, tugging at the too-tight collar, “stupid sandals, stupid Gem puberty! Why, oh why can’t I ever go through human stuff normally?”
His bare foot catches upon a sizable stone hidden amongst the beach. On any other day he would’ve successfully broken his fall, stumbling forwards a few awkward steps before regaining his balance and continuing on his way. But with his body now so different, and his center of gravity entirely off from what he’s used to, he head plants straight into the ground.
Wow, he thinks, spitting sand out of his mouth and pushing himself back to his feet. How elegant. Truly the shining paragon of coordination and grace.
Thank goodness no one was watching. Next time he’ll just have to remember to float.
He arrives at his dad’s van with no further incident. The rear doors are— following Garnet’s prediction- cracked open. Dad’s awake, at least for now.
“Daaaaaaaad,” he hollers, cupping his hands around his mouth to project. “A really, really weird thing happened, and I kinda need your help!”
A few spare seconds pass, seconds filled with the rustles of shifting blankets, the sound of a book being shut closed, and his dad’s low murmurs. The doors swing wide, though not as wide as Dad’s eyes when they wander around their bright, sunny surroundings and eventually land square on him and his new look.
“Wh— Steven, holy smokes! Look at you!”
With an awkward chuckle, he scratches away at an itch at the nape of his neck. “Heh heh, I know, right?”
“You’re almost as tall as your old man! When did this happen? How did this happen?”
“Some point last night, I guess,” he shrugs. “I just woke up like this. But Dad—” he clings onto his arm with mounting desperation— “I need your help to find some new shirts. Don’t you have like… whole boxes of your old tour merch stashed away somewhere? I don’t wanna have to get rid of my star, I just— I just need a bigger size, or something.”
“Hmmm…” Dad muses, scratching at the scruff of his beard. “Well, maybe, but…”
“But what?”
“But if any of it’s still around, then it’s probably in Amethyst’s room. All of the stuff from the storage unit ended up with her, remember?”
“Oh…” he says, brows furrowed, not quite able to parse this fact within his memory yet. And then… 
Ugh. That’s right.
Two New Years’ ago. The huge mess of crates and mattresses and long forgotten belongings. All that ridiculous Little Butler nonsense. Amethyst’s fight with Dad.
“Oh,” he mumbles, crossing his arms. “Right. Well, then let’s go find it!”
“R- right now?”
“Yeah, why not? I need new clothes, and you could see if there’s any old junk in there you might want to keep!”
With that, he grabs his dad’s hand and yanks him along, spirit filled with renewed purpose and vigor.
“And you’re sure you need my help for this?” Dad asks, lagging a step or two behind him as they march back across the beach together. “The Gems, they… well, they don’t usually want me going into the temple—”
“Oh, Amethyst will be fine,” he says with a wave of his palm. “She never cares when I go in there to check out her trash piles. ‘Sides, I need your help to find the right box! I have no idea what your old band stuff was stashed in.”
His dad flashes a tight smile, the sort he always serves up when he’s nervous, but also too timid to tell him that he’s nervous.
“Well… if you think she’ll allow it…” he relents, and picks up his pace to match his.
~~
[End Part 1... more to be shared later.]
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mustainegf · 3 months ago
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hi if you're uncomfortable with this please feel free to ignore
any era james with a reader with scars on her arms? shes really self conscious about them and cries because of how they look and how people see her, maybe someone made a comment about them earlier and shes extra upset about it and james holds her and reassures her she's beautiful and that her scars dont define her and whatnot? just comforting her and holding her close and then maybe they fall asleep cuddled up?
thank you <3
Totally comfortable with this! I have struggled in the past with this sorta stuff and I want to bring people any sort of comfort
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: mention of self harm, scars
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𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐋 𝐌𝐄 ¹⁹⁸⁵
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The evening was very late, and the house dead silent. James had been out with the guys no doubt talking music and downing beer after beer. I sat on his bed, my head running with thoughts and feelings that seemed to eat me alive.
The next thing I knew, the first drops of tears had already fallen, and then just dissolved into my hands, sobbing.
I didn't hear the door open, but the change in the air told me James had just walked in. He took heavy footsteps. He saw me instantly, and without a word, he shut the door and locked it. The click of the lock echoed in the room.
He sat beside me on the bed and wrapped his arms around me, pulling me into his chest. His scent, leather, smoke, and something so… him, swallowed me, and I felt like for a moment, I could breathe again.
"Hey, hey, what's wrong?" he whispered in my ear, his voice ultralow. I nodded, shaking my head and trying to get a hold on myself, but the tears just wouldn't stop. "Come on, talk to me. Please, babe."
"I'm fine," I choked out, but even I didn't believe myself. James wasn't having it either. He pulled me tighter, his hand rubbing my back in slow.
"You're not okay," he said gently. "You’re crying, and I hate seeing you cry, baby, you know that. Please tell me what's going on."
I wanted to say, but somehow the words didn't leave my throat. How to explain, the hurt, the embarrassment? I couldn't stand that look of disappointment in his eyes.
James kept rocking me, murmuring sweet words. "You can tell me anything, you know that."
He finally cracked my walls. I took a deep, shaky breath, trying to steady myself. "It's… it's something Lars said."
James's body stressed a little. "What did he say?"
I swallowed again, the lump in my throat swelling. "It's nothing, really. He was just… teasing me."
"What about?" he pressed. I could sense him getting frustrated, not with me, but the situation. All he wanted was to understand, to help.
I began to cry again, and I knew I needed to be honest with him. I loved him too much to withhold this from him now. I pulled back a little, looking down to my lap. "He was making fun of my scars."
James was silent a sec, his confusion palpable to me. "What scars? What do you mean?"
I took a deeper breath, almost painful with how far I reached into my lungs. I rolled up my pant leg, revealing the crisscrossing lines of healed white and pink scars that covered the area from my leg down to my ankle. I couldn't bring myself to look at James, I was terrified of the heartbreak I might see in his eyes.
His reaction was immediate, and he gasped, not loud, not dramatic, but every ounce of air left his body in the second.
"Oh my God," he whispered, his fingers delicately drew along the scars. "Why… why didn't you tell me?"
I looked away, shame raining down on me. "I didn't want you to think that I'm… weak, o-or ugly…”
He cupped my face in his hands, forcing me to look into his eyes. In them, I saw the pain but also the love.
"You're not weak. God, and these,” he pointed a finger down on my scarred leg. “These make you strong. And THAT is beautiful…” he watched me with almost teary eyes. “I'm just. I'm scared for you. I don't want you to hurt yourself..."
"I'm sorry," I whispered, the tears falling harder now and soaking my shirt and falling to his blanket. "I didn't mean for you to find out like this.”
James pulled me right back into his arms. This time, he held me even closer, and I could feel just how fast his heart was going. "Don't be sorry… I just wish I'd known sooner."
He soothed my bruised heart. We talked for hours, James asking me tender questions, really trying to understand what I had gone through. James made me feel safer than anyone ever had.
"I'll talk to Lars," he promised, planting a kiss on my forehead. "He didn't have the right to say that to you. I'll let him know that."
I nodded. "Thank you, Jamie."
James kissed the top of my head again and his lips seemed to rest there. "I love you," he whispered.
“Even the sc—“
I couldn’t even get my words out before he was shushing me again.
“Even your scars, baby.”
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crushedsweets · 6 months ago
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I fear to stain your clothes with blood; Stain them, I don't care 'Eyeless' Jack Nyras in Creeped: PRESENT DAY
PT. 1: BACKSTORY General disclaimer: This AU is an amalgamation of headcanons, fanon, canon, and the occasional rewrite. There is an overarching story that HEAVILY strays from their canon stories.
PROXIES
➣This life became Jack’s reality for nearly a year. He would spend days completely unconscious, until he suddenly wakes up to a new crime scene. Every time, the taste of iron lingered in his mouth, even long after he washed his sins at a nearby river.
➣In rare moments of clarity, Jack tried to find himself. Sat anxiously at the river, scrubbing away at his rapidly changing body.
➣Black, hard keratin began to form on the tips of his fingers, of which the nails were torn off months ago. They resembled claws, only adding to Jack’s struggle. His ears seemed to stretch to a point and resemble bats, but he was still adjusting to the echolocation. While he got the gist of his general shape, he was almost grateful that he couldn’t see himself. 
➣The echolocation was pretty helpful, too. He had four pesky stalkers constantly on his ass. The most frequent two were pretty troublesome. One was quite small, but she was fast. By the time Jack realized she was in the area, she was already on him. Luckily, he was able to fling her off. It’d lead to a frustrating chase of her constantly attaching herself to him and him throwing her off, until something shifted in her and she retreated. For her, it was about persistence.
➣The other frequent stalker was odd. Jack would be miserably eating a raw deer, until he clicked his tongue and realized that one was hiding in a tree. His stalker had climbed through the branches. While Jack thought it was goofy, that stalker had terrifyingly accurate aim and power behind his throws. Jack was frequently assaulted with a hatchet to a limb or his back, and while the flesh would quickly knit itself back together, this stalker was more persistent than the other. 
➣For a damn year, this went on. Jack was barely a human. He became a local cryptid in the Tuscaloosa forest, and the proxies were beyond pissed about it. They didn't want more attention on this damn forest. He caused so much trouble, and he bruised Toby’s ego while doing it. 
➣Toby just got lucky one day. Jack had spent nearly a month fully conscious, the entity seeming to release his body entirely. He was in full control of himself once again, but it meant very little when he had no idea what to do with himself. 
➣He pathetically sat at his river, his keratin-coated fingers resting beneath the softly rushing water. He knew Toby, whose name he heard yelled amongst his stalkers, was watching him. Jack just chose not to do anything about it. He washed his hands and tried to relax in the water. When that familiar hatchet came barreling his way, he didn’t even hesitate. His hand reached up and he caught it by the handle. The second hatchet came and he caught it once again. His head didn’t even turn. 
➣He heard the same exasperated, angry shout from Toby. “What the hell is your problem, dude?!”
➣Jack’s ears perked up. He turned his head to face Toby, more as a formality. “My problem…?”
➣His voice was deep and horse. At this point, Toby’s voice was more familiar than his own. It startled both him and his stalker. So of course, Toby had to ask, “You can talk?”
➣Although hesitant, Toby made his way to Jack. The monster of a man never tried to hurt him or the others before, he mostly fought to defend himself. And Jack wasn’t concerned, he still held Toby’s hatchets. Jack offered a weak explanation of his situation, leaving major details out. He didn’t say Jenny’s name or bring up their relationship. Just mentioned a club, the torture, and his new body. 
➣Toby connected some dots for him. Explained the issue of Slenderman, the Operator, and Zalgo. They went back and forth, with Toby poking fun at Jack’s somber, stoic attitude. It seemed that Jack’s body purged itself of those entities, an unclear anomaly for the proxies.
➣Toby thought Jack was really cool. And figured he could be useful, too.
JACK’S ROLE
➣Jack was brought to the proxy cabin by Toby, much to the frustration of Tim and Brian. Jack was dirty, bloody, and uncomfortable as Toby bickered back and forth with the older men. It didn’t help that Brian was currently dealing with a nasty wound in his thigh, further amping up the frustration and fear between the group.
➣Toby insisted Jack was alright. He was big, he was strong, he had scary instincts. Tim repeatedly declared that he’s dangerous and useless to their job as proxies. He caught wind that Jack’s attention was geared towards Brian, who was propped up on the couch and bleeding onto it. A pathetic excuse for a tourniquet was wrapped around his thigh, and it got Tim riled up. ➣He shouted at Toby to get Jack out of the damn cabin, implying that some sort of monstrous instincts were bound to overtake Jack, especially with a bleeding man before him.
➣Jack finally spoke up. He defended himself quietly at first, saying he wasn’t staring because he was hungry. He was staring because of how poorly the tourniquet was done. The men were all a little taken aback by this, with Brian sarcastically asking if Jack could do better. 
➣Jack could, and tentatively, they let him. They let him explain his situation again, and with their understanding of his inhumanity and half-completed graduate degree, they realized how good of a problem this could be. They could take advantage of it, despite Tim's apprehension.
➣Jack was designated the ‘proxy medic.’ He was ushered to a small, one-bedroom cabin with a tiny bunker beneath it. He was given permission to live peacefully in the forest, away from public scrutiny, if he just took care of the proxy’s wounds.
➣It was a nice little place. Sure, it was dusty and bothered his heightened senses for a while, but Toby helped him tidy it up. The furniture was old and Toby had to drag an old mattress from a thrift store to replace the rotting one at Jack's cabin, but it worked out.
➣The bunker was a bit shameful for Jack. They managed to get large fridges hooked up down there, giving Jack the opportunity to keep himself fed over longer periods. It made the whole arrangement safer for everyone.
JACK'S RELATIONSHIPS
➣He eventually found himself settled comfortably in his cabin. Toby was the main visitor for a good period of time, until new faces began popping in and out. 
➣Kate ‘the Chaser’ was the second most frequent visitor, though she was commonly dragged behind Toby. She very rarely came on her own, unless her situation was dire.
➣Eventually, he began meeting people just as weird as himself. A girl who insists her name is Clockwork, tall and lanky and snappy. A pair of short guys came shortly after, one constantly littered with wounds that Jack would stitch up. He’d bring Jack meals as payment. Jeff and BEN were their names, who heard of Jack through Clocky. Eventually, a pretty young woman on Toby’s arm came by frequently. Nina was all over Jack for a few weeks, until she eventually settled down and their friendship could become steady. Some days, he walked another eyeless college student named Lulu back to her hospital.
➣Albeit appreciative, none of these friendships filled the ache. Jack grew up family-oriented. He grew up with so many little siblings to take care of, and he spent a year fantasizing about a family with Jenny. He was riddled with too much shame to return home.
➣It wasn’t until a little demon girl came kicking and screaming into his life. Lazari was the daughter of Zalgo, the same entity that took over his body for nearly a year. Just like him, the proxies were hunting her, and just like him, she evaded every attack. 
➣Jack was able to reason with her. He caught her sniffling and crying. He brought her into his arms and into his home. He made her dinner, brushed her long brown hair, and told her it would be okay. They were like siblings, weren’t they? Both were made this way by the same demon.
➣From here on out, Jack’s dedicated himself to Lazari. Quickly, Lazari filled the role of a little sister. 
➣If Lazari could be just as monstrous as him, and yet filled with so much love and life…
➣Maybe Jack could be alright with his wavering humanity, too.
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melrodrigo · 8 months ago
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Tardy, part 11
part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7 | part 8 | part 9 | part 10 | part 11
Tara Carpenter x Fem Reader
Summary: It’s time for you to face Ghostface head on.
Word Count: 3.5k
Warnings: Pretty gnarly violence, Tara being protective and kinda batshit crazy, betrayals left and right
A/N: lol
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Shit.
When you open your eyes and see nothing but a hot blinding light, you think you might've died and gone to heaven.
"God?" You whisper, blinking slowly.
It was in fact, not god, you find out once your eyes properly adjust.
You're stuck in a tiny compartment; so small you think you might suffocate. The walls are painted a shade of obsidian black that makes you feel like you're stuck in a black hole. Only one single flickering lightbulb grants you sight.
Your arms are sore; so sore, and it only intensifies when you try and pull them up from the weird position they're in.
Huh, I can't move my arms.
You tug at the rope-like fabric of material that's holding your hands together. It doesn't budge in the slightest. Panic rises like wildfire in you.
You breathe deep. Try to gather your wits and make sense of anything that is possibly going on.
"Get it together." You remind yourself.
You blink once.
Feeling a little more clear, you realize that you're strapped tight to a chair, back pressed uncomfortably close to the ridges.
Where am I?
There's no time to find the answer to that question since the wall is moving- oh it's a door-, and Ghostface appears right in front of you, smiling.
Well, you don't really know if he's smiling. But the way he's moving, all confident and cocky, makes you think you're not too far off.
It hits you all at once. Now that you're fully conscious, you can feel everything.
One inhale and your lungs feel like they're on fire. Breathing is hard.
You groan, the pain all too overwhelming for your brain to work properly. It would be embarrassing how loud you were if you cared in the least.
You can only seem to think of one thing.
"Where is she?" You ask, with all the confidence of someone in the position of interrogating Ghostface.
Tara. God, what did they do to Tara?
“Of course, your first words are about her." Ghostface spits, still using that goddamned voice modulator.
“Where is she?” You spit, trying your very best to look intimidating.
It's not very convincing when you're heaving and gasping like a fish out of water.
"Would you believe me if I said she was already dead?" Ghostface drawls, tracing their knife along your jawline, pressing just enough for you to feel it.
You scoff.
"Right...you'd kill one of your beloved 'main characters' before the finale." You say, sure you've read him to filth.
"But, this is the ending. Don't you see?" He continues to tease, unbothered by your last comment.
You huff, but you feel your heart picking up speed slightly.
What if...he was telling the truth?
A shrill scream sounds throughout the theater, and you feel your blood run cold as you recognize exactly who it is.
"Tara." You breathe, half terrified and half relieved she's still alive.
"Tara!" You yell, as loud as your lungs are willing to let you.
Tara doesn't reply. What you do get is a smack to the head and an elbow to the jaw.
"Be quiet." Ghostface hisses, and you can almost swear he sounds sort of scared.
"Be quiet or I'm going to get my ass whooped." He mumbles, and you pull back as far as you can, eyebrows raised.
You bite back the need to tell him you definitely don't care if he gets in trouble or not, not wanting to get slapped in the face a billion more times.
"Come on." He grumbles, gripping the back of the chair and lifting it up swiftly.
The feeling of your feet dangling off the chair reminds you of one of your favorite memories.
"Mint ice cream sucks," Tara tells you definitively.
You squint your eyebrows at her and bring up a hand to your heart like she's just stabbed you.
She's sitting with her ice cream in hand, a good distance away from you. You guys peer down at all the university students walking around, now the size of ants; trying to point out people you guys recognize.
It was your own little secret spot. Tara could never really go study outside uni, since her sister was always up her ass about traveling unknown spaces. You never asked her why, pure sister protectiveness, you guessed.
A couple of weeks into knowing Tara, she'd brought you up to this mini garden haven of hers, all shy and smiley.
She's sitting now and she's looking so pretty with her big brown eyes and freckles out for display. They shine bright today, sunshine illuminating her face and making everything just pop the slightest bit more.
You get a wicked idea, and before you can stop yourself, scoot yourself closer and place your arm around her.
Tara cocks an eyebrow at you, but before she can speak a word, you start tickling her sides.
"Stop!" Tara squeals. Her face turning a bright pink comically fast.
You're careful not to tickle her too hard, or else you think she might just slide off the ledge and fall right here.
You're close now, closer than you should be. Tension swims in the air. You lean down to whisper into her ear.
"That's what you get for saying mint sucks." You huff, smirking a little as she shudders from the feeling of your breath fanning her ear.
When you pull back and look into her eyes, you're surprised to see them wide and dilated. She has a weird expression her face, like she's fighting something in herself.
You lean in slowly, stuck in a trace with the way she's looking at you.
She grips your shirt and pulls you in further, your noses brushing. And then suddenly, like she's just snapped out of her daze, she sits up abruptly.
She laughs nervously, letting go of your shirt.
"I think Sam's calling me. I'll see you tomorrow. Same time?" She's saying, but she's not even giving you a second to answer before she's sprinting away.
Despite the sort of failed kiss, you chuckle a little. You feel the blush creep up to the tips of your ears.
The day your crush on Tara Carpenter officially started.
It's a bad time to start daydreaming, but you figure if you're going to die right now, it wouldn't be so bad to think of the love of your life while you go.
The sound of Tara's voice brings you back to life.
"YN!" She gasps, from somewhere behind you. You're still getting dragged, hair stuck to your forehead, eyes blurred.
You try your best to blink everything back to focus.
She's standing on the platform slightly below you, beside Sam, looking relieved. There's a brick in her hand.
You try and say her name but all that comes out is a painful groan. Everything feels heavy. Your shirt is painted red where your stomach wound is, and you figure you must've ripped the stitches.
There's another Ghostface beside you, the two of them bracketing you on either side.
Not that you would have the energy to up and escape anyway.
"Tara..." Sam warns, eyeing her sister like she knows what she's about to do.
Tara rushes forward, ignoring Sam's protest, trying to get to you. To hold you in her arms, to press her hands against your wound, to kiss it better; to do anything.
The Ghostface to your right swings their knife as soon as she comes into the vicinity, and slices the skin above Tara's collarbone easily. She gasps from the jab. Red liquid seeps out immediately.
You feel the Ghostface to your left tense, a mixture of a gasp and a yell stuck together.
"Anika wait-!" The Ghostface is saying, the name slipping out as easy as second nature.
Everybody stills.
It's so quiet you could hear a pin drop.
The other Ghostface whirls around, shoulders tight.
Sam tugs Tara back quietly, looking between the two Ghostfaces. Your head is swimming.
"What did you say?" Ghostface- supposedly Anika, says.
"What the fuck." You manage to spit out, but it goes unheard, everyone being laser-focused on the scene unfolding right in front of them.
"I'm sorry- I'm sorry I didn't mean to say that. It's just, I thought you were going to kill Tara. I couldn't let you do that." The other Ghostface reasons, albeit unconvincingly. He stumbles over his words, in a tone that's all too familiar to you.
"Ethan?" You hesitate, tears brimming in your eyes.
The Ghostface that's hovering above you drops down to your ear level, whispering softly.
"Well, aren't you just a smart little thing?" And promptly slides off that wretched Ghostface mask, and even though you knew, you have to gasp at who you see.
Anika.
Sweet sweet Anika.
"Just take it off. It's not like they don't already know." Anika tells Ethan, an order more than anything.
You tilt your head just enough to see Ethan take off his mask, grinning nervously.
"What the fuck?" You hear Tara say, but it sounds so far away.
"But, but how-" Sam starts, pointing at Ethan, her face as pale as a ghost.
He looks good, healthy. More alive than you've ever seen him. There's a glint in his eye you've never seen before.
"I'm alive. Surprise!" He grins, flashing the four of you a pearly white smile.
I must be dreaming.
You squeeze your eyes shut. He's still standing there when you open them again. Shit.
"But I watched you die, I felt the blood. You-you died in my arms. I saw the ambulance pick you up." You splutter, voice cracking unevenly.
"You know...some fake blood and a couple of acting classes can do wonders. You guys really are not good at picking up on hints." Anika sing songs, waving her dagger in the air.
"Seriously...we even had to send you a note." She continues, scrunching her nose in disgust.
"Why are you doing this? Why are you so hell-bent on destroying us?" Sam asks, fire in her eyes. She looks scary. Messing with Sam was one thing, but messing with her sister? You have a feeling they'll be dead in minutes.
Anika sighs dramatically, putting a hand up to her chin and feigning thought.
"Gosh. Where do I even start? Let's set the scene: it's 1996. There's been two mysterious murders in the small town of Woodsboro, leaving everyone in fright." She recounts, words slipping out of her mouth with ease like she's rehearsed them a million times.
Sam rolls her eyes, fed up with this godforsaken story that seems to follow her anywhere.
"Akio Kayoko however, lives happily, because finally his two bullies Billy and Stu aren't on his ass anymore. They have more important things to worry about."
Sam cuts in before Anika goes any further.
"Are you fucking kidding me? This is all because what, your dad couldn't handle a couple wedgies? Are you a little daddy's girl?" She says, fed up.
Anika shoots her an icy glare, but continues.
"You don't even know what you're talking about." Anika tells her, voice lowering to soft and almost sorrowful.
"Poor dad, he just had to go to that party. Do you know what happens to a person when they go through something traumatic? It changes them. He came out the only bystander that survived, but not without a scarred face and a scarred soul to show for it." She murmurs. She turns suddenly, a new pep in her mannerisms.
"Your father," she points at Sam accusingly, "and your father," she points her knife at you, "fucked my dad up royally. He got diagnosed with severe depression and bipolar disorder from it. And for what?" She seethes.
"Your guys' fathers are just racist assholes. You deserve everything that's coming to you, don't you even doubt it for a second!" She sneers, with so much venom and power that you can't help but agree.
You open your mouth to say something, anything, try to explain that you aren't your dad, but Anika beats you to it.
"Did you know he left me? I still remember it like it was yesterday. I was 6." She tells you, voice getting softer. Your heart tugs for her.
She straightens up, as if just realizing where she was, and her icy facade once again builds up.
"Anywho, motive enough for you Sam?" She tilts her head up, eyes bright.
Sam stands scarily still, but you can see the concern swimming in her eyes.
Ethan's standing wide-eyed like this is all new information to him.
"It really wasn't that hard getting you two to meet. All I had to do was invite Tara to that party and just give YN a little bump so you two would talk." Anika continues, and you furrow your eyebrows. Party? You met Tara at a party?
Your eyes dart to Tara and she's looking at you a little solemnly, and suddenly it hits you like a truck. Memories that have never been unlocked before replay in your mind now. The angel from that party.
That was Tara.
"After that, everything just fell into place. You guys are one pathetic predictable group of people." Ethan pipes up.
"The friendship, the night you got stabbed, it was all planned. I mean, why do you think I took you back to the apartment? For Anika to "stitch you up?" He asks excitedly, looking at Anika for approval to speak further. She gives him an annoyed nod.
"And guess what the best part is," He giggled midway, but gains his composure again. "Every time she came to fix you up, she actually poisoned the wound. Never too much that you would notice- but enough to guarantee your death today. It's infected." He cheers, like he hasn't just told you you're going to die.
"Jesus, you never told me how bad it was," Tara says, making your eyes dart back to hers, trying to catch her gaze to inadvertently say your sorry, but she doesn't meet your eyes.
"I didn't want you to worry." You sigh.
Ethan makes a noise of disgust. He looks at you with scrunched eyebrows, a little crinkle of his nose betraying his chill facade. His gaze shifts to Tara, and you can't help but notice his voice move just a pitch higher.
"Poor Tara. Caught in this sick twisted web between your sister and your girlfriend. You didn't even do anything wrong right, baby? Don't worry...nothing's going to happen to you. I've made sure of that." He tells her, and it hits you all at once.
"Baby? What are you talking about? " Tara asks, cocking her head to the side.
"I love you, Tara. I did all of this just for you. When the both of them are dead, you and I can get together. Finally." He says, between deep breaths.
You don't know how you never saw it before. Memories of the prior weeks flash in front of your eyes.
His heart eyes for your girlfriend every time the group would have a movie night and you two would cuddle, the weird lingering around the both of you whenever you'd go out.
You just figured he really liked your company.
"You're out of your mind you sick fuck. Tara would never date you, even if you were the last person on earth." Is what Sam says, and despite the consequences of what's sure to come, your heart sings.
Last person on earth.
Ethan stutters, like he never thought of the possibility that she would reject him. You see tears forming immediately, frown apparent. He's trying to keep it together- you can tell.
He leans back slightly, dejected. His eyes cloud with something you can only describe as hatred, and for a scary moment, you think he seriously might jump at Tara.
However, he doesn't get the time to act on his thoughts, because in less than a blink of an eye Anika's moving over and stabbing him in the neck.
"Agh!" He grunts. A trickle of blood runs down the side of his mouth, then it bursts. So, so much thick crimson liquid gurgles out.
Anika stands behind him, sliding her knife out his back, wiping the blood clean.
"Gosh, what a bore he was, right? True love this true love that. I couldn't listen to that shit any longer." She gags, leaning over to stick her tongue out at Ethan's lifeless face. She stabs him again in the jaw for good measure.
She looks back at the three of you, who are clearly aghast.
"Gotta make sure he's dead right?" She smiles, and it finally gets through to you that she's lost it. Whoever you thought you knew, that person never existed.
No one answers her as she stands up.
You turn stoney-faced as you look up at her. "So what's the plan Anika? How are you gonna get away with this?"
She turns around, rolling her eyes. Before you know it, she's advancing towards you, knife raised. She jabs lightly at your wound. Teases her knife against your skin. You really wish people would stop picking that specific part to hurt you.
"Do we really need to go over this again? Kill you guys blah blah blah, find Mindy and kill her, say that you and Sam went crazy like their fathers. Really, it's not hard to understand." Anika continues, shuffling her feet as she speaks like she's bored.
Time is ticking before she snaps and just decides to kill you, you know it. Not to mention the fact that you were actively dying.
"What do you really want from us? Just name your price now, and we'll- we'll get it. Just let her go." Tara splutters, almost begging.
Anika stomps her feet with the energy of a three year olds tantrum, "I want revenge! Have I not made that clear enough?" she basically yells.
Sam moves forward slowly, like a wildlife expert moving towards a wild beast.
"Look I'm sure we can come to an agreement about something-" She's saying, but Anika rolls her eyes once again and advances lazily towards you.
Nothing happens in slo-mo like the movies, you can barely register her face before she's plunging the dagger deep into the other side of your lower stomach. You can feel it pierce it's way through your whole body.
You hear a scream but it sounds a million miles away. You gag, moving your head to the side to try and puke, but nothing comes out. You try to groan in frustration but it makes your skin sting everywhere that you stop. You just stop for a moment.
Tara's fully sobbing now, you think. You can't really tell.
All hell breaks loose. Sam breaks out into a sprint at Anika, effectively knocking her down till both of them are tumbling on the floor.
You see flashes of black and gray and blood spurting from someone.
"Stay with me." You hear someone say, and try with everything in you to blink back everything into focus. It's Tara.
Her mascara is everywhere. Black stripes of tears and makeup streak down her pretty face, and you feel the urge even now to bring your hand up and wipe the tears away.
You try and tell her to stop crying but the words die in your mouth. What feels like fire engulfs your lungs.
"Stay with me. I'll be right back." She whispers, pressing a kiss to your chapped lips.
You search your mind desperately for a way out of this mess, a solution, but everything goes blank. Your ears ring, eyes rolling to the back of your head in pain.
With everything you have in you, you squeeze Tara's hand one last time, and tell her to take the knife currently lodged in you out.
Tara's eyes darken, the most cloudy you've ever seen them.
"No, no. I couldn't do that." She says, another round of tears falling down her cheeks. She shakes her head adamantly, but you shush her.
"Please. For me." You manage to get out, then with the utmost acceptance, you let yourself go.
Tara doesn't remember much of what happened after that. She remembers sobbing, she remembers someone screaming, but she can't be too sure if it's her or someone else. She remembers the feeling of your fingers loosening their grip on her hand, and she remembers seeing red.
With no where else to channel her emotions, and with your words engraved in her mind, she turns on Anika.
She hurries over to where she's still wrestling with Sam, expression tight, and grabs the first thing she can find in this shithole of a theater.
Your father's wooden box.
She remembers faintly telling Sam to fuck off, and smashing the box over Anika's head. Then picking it up and doing the same thing again. And again, and again. She remembers taking the heel of her shoes and smashing it to Anika's nose, breaking it in one clean hit.
She remembers going back to you, your white as paper skin, and yanking the knife out of you.
And the final thing she remembers is screaming at Anika while she buries the knife in and out of the girl’s body, everywhere, again and again.
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thebestofoneshots · 10 months ago
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Gilded Constellations | (wolfstar x reader)
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Series Masterlist | Previous episode
Pairing: Wolfstar x Reader Word Count: 7.3 K Warnings: Graphic descriptions of violence. (Reader discretion is advised). Prompt: It's the night of the prank This IS a wolfstar x reader fic, but it's incredibly slow burn. They won't start all dating each other until we're very deep into the story, but I promise the long wait will be worth it.
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Chapter 28: If You Want BIood (You’ve Got It)
You were walking through the dark halls, wand raised with a lumus charm so you could see better. You already knew the path you had to follow, it was almost exactly the same one that you used to get to the fireworms but a little further and then 3 lefts and 2 rights. 
You wouldn’t say you’d pride yourself on your sense of direction, you had gotten lost in the castle more than once, but you had been in the passageways so often, and you had explored them and gotten lost in them just as many times. You had already taken three lefts and were about to take a right when Sirius appeared in front of you. 
“Oh hey–“ You started, but were cut off by the way he scooped you into his arms, hugging you tightly, he leaned his head on the crook of your neck. 
“Missed you,” he whispered into your hair. 
You frowned, what’s gotten into him? “I saw you in the morning.” 
“But you sat far away,” he whined. You frowned but finally hugged him back. It’s not that you didn’t like when Sirius was clingy, in fact, you loved it. But most of the time he got clingy it was because something was up. 
Could it be because of your wound? But he had known about it for a week, and he hadn’t been this clingy earlier. In fact, he’d been a lot more concerned and serious about it. Yeah worried, and definitely a little touchy when you fell asleep on his bed, but not clingy. You noticed he was still nozzled in your neck after a couple of minutes, and felt how he took a deep breath “Are you smelling me?” you asked in disbelief, a teasing smile slowly creeping up your mouth. 
He pulled away, a sly little smile on his lip. Am I really the one that’s a fox? You wondered as his smile widened to a grin, “Got a problem with it trésor?” 
You almost rolled your eyes, you had let it slip that you liked it when he spoke French to you and he was making a conscious effort to fluster you about it whenever he had the chance. “Non, mon coquin,” you replied with a little smirk. 
He gasped “Take that back!” 
“Is it not accurate?” you teased again.
“Oi! I swear if you–“ 
“Everything all right?” You heard Remus’ conciliating voice from behind. 
“She called me coquin!” Sirius complained with a pout. Looking an awful lot like a small child. 
He looks adorable, both you and Remus thought. 
“So?” Remus asked, he did not speak much French. 
You giggled and placed your hand on his shoulder, he leaned towards you “It means rascal, naughty or… mischief.”
Remus nodded and turned back to Sirius. “I’d say it’s accurate,” he said with a shrug. 
You covered your mouth with your hands and attempted to hold back a laugh. “Moony!” Sirius complained, “don’t back her up! I was trying to be cute-“ 
You shook your head, “–he was trying to fluster me.” 
Remus wasn’t sure what he was doing in the middle of such a silly discussion, but since both you and Sirius looked absolutely adorable, he wasn’t sure he cared too much “How come?” 
“I called her trésor.” Remus looked at him expectantly. “It means treasure,” Sirius clarified. 
Well, that one’s accurate as well, he thought before he spoke again “Well you’re both mo chailleachan àlainn.” He placed both arms over your and Sirius’ shoulders and prompted you to continue your way.
“Hold up! You’re back at it with the Gaelic?” 
“That was Gaelic?” Sirius asked, “No wonder I understood shit.” 
Remus shrugged and then with a cheeky little smile responded “You understood it perfectly then.” 
Sirius gasped again, turning to Remus just a little, “You wouldn’t dare!” 
“Wouldn’t I?” He asked again, pulling Sirius’ shoulder so he would turn back to the front. You just laughed. 
“Yeah chachan àlain,” you mocked. Remus laughed at your miserable attempt to speak Gaelic.
“If I’m a chaillchan àlainn so are you!” Sirius argued. “He said it to the both of us.” 
Remus sniggered “Indeed, you’re both my chailleachan àlainn,” the way the words rolled off his tongue made it sound as sexy as Sirius’ french. 
You elbowed him, and he played hurt. But his fun lasted until the three of you fell into a comfortable silence and his mind started to wonder. Reprimanding himself for calling you what he had, had either of them actually understood, he thought. Of course, Remus knew neither spoke Gaelic, but sometimes words were similar and both you and Sirius spoke like 5 different languages in between each other. He had been stupid. 
And more stupid than that, he was just casually hugging the two of you as you walked, not that either seemed to mind. Sirius had a bit of a frown but that was because he thought he’d been called a “shit”, you on the other hand, had a diverted look on your face as you leaned slightly into Remus’ shoulder, clearly pleased over the fact that he had sided with you. But he felt too content, too joyful, it felt –even if it was just for a second– like he could have the two of you, and that you’d be happy to have him as well. 
He felt like it was the Halloween Party all over again and you both had your hands all over him, no restrictions attached, the three of you high to the heavens with that euphoric potion. Yes, it was delightful, but at the same time, it was torment. Torment because he knew he couldn’t just give in to his delusional fantasies, torment because he knew there was a limit to how close he could be to the two of you before either noticed, torment because his mind kept telling him to get away. Still, his body refused, refused to let go, refused to stop feeling your warmth. And he had been the one to place himself in that situation this time around.  Perhaps, it was he who was the cailleachan in the end. 
Either way, he didn’t step away, he knew it would be more suspicious if he did, so he kept his arms around yours and Sirius’ shoulders, careful not to touch the section he had scratched. 
“Took you long enough,” the three of you heard Prongs’ voice once you arrived at the meeting point. 
“They were having a domestic fight.” 
You gasped at that, “It was a small quarrel.” 
“No, it wasn’t! You called me a–“
“But you are a…“ 
“–Guys?” you heard Peter’s voice rise a little as he tried to gather everyone’s attention, interrupting the two of you “Can we discuss your quarrels later on? We don’t have all night.” 
“It wasn’t a quarrel,” Sirius muttered to himself. Remus had already stepped away from the two as he went to talk to James and you closed the gap between you and your boyfriend, extending your hand to chase his.
 “Hey mischief?” you said, trying to get his attention. He gave you a side look. You leaned your head on his shoulder. “You did hear what I said, right?” He turned his head to you, eyebrows raised like, telling you with his face that he most definitely had, “Yeah, but did you really listen?” 
“Yes, it was very clear when you called me coquin.” 
You shook your head and leaned into him, to be able to whisper in his ear “I called you mon coquin.” 
He turned to you with agape, a silent scoff rolling off his pretty lips. “Oh, so now you’re claiming ownership over me,” he teased, a smile plastered on his face. 
“Well, if the shoe fits…” you replied, mirroring his smile. 
He pulled you closer to him, brushing his lips against your earlobe before he spoke “Est-ce que ça fait de toi mon trésor?” 
Your mouth went dry and you shivered, bIood rushing through your cheeks so fast you weren’t sure you’d be able to play it cool afterwards. Regardless you tried, leaning in closer to his own ear and actually biting his earlobe before speaking again. “Je peux être tout ce que tu veux que je sois…” 
“Love puppies, time to focus, please,” James said when he noticed the way Sirius’ eyes had shone. He may or may not have been afraid of what the two of you would have done if he hadn’t stopped you.
You turned to James with a smile and nodded. Remus had averted his gaze, your back was to him, so you didn’t notice, but Sirius did, and he almost felt a pang in his chest when he realised Remus’ slightly bitter reaction. Well, he had felt the pang, but he pretended like he hadn’t. It made no sense for it to be there. You were his girlfriend and Remus was just Remus. Same Remus he’d always been, except that he wasn’t making him feel the same way he always had. His hand settled on your back as the two of you walked closer to Peter, who had the map in a hold. 
“So, I’ll get in first and eavesdrop on the password. That way we know what it is. Then the four of you will get in through the door with the cloak on.”
“We won’t fit,” Remus said, remembering how close he had stood to Sirius in the library the previous night. 
“Yeah, we thought about that yesterday while you were making the potions,” James spoke and then turned to you “You’re gonna have to turn into Vixen and let us carry you.” 
You looked at James for a second, blinking as you processed the information, and then shrugged. “Okay, just be careful when you pick me up.” 
James nodded in response, and Peter continued speaking. “Great, once we’re in, we’ll just sneak into their dorms and we’ll help you and Remus with the hex bags.” 
“We’re not going to get anyone that’s not on the list,” you said as you looked at them, it was something between a question and a statement. You just wanted them to confirm it. Everyone nodded, except for Sirius, who looked a bit vexed. You threw him a look. “I have friends in Slytherin, you have friends in Slytherin. We can’t punish them all just because of a few assholes are in the same house.” 
“They’ve been messing with you since you got here, Starshine.” 
“Yes!” you agreed. “A small little group of them have. Not every single one.” 
He looked to the side but eventually nodded , “Fine then. Just them.” 
“Such a good boy,” Peter teased, in the same tone you’d use for a dog and Sirius almost hexed him. Which just had you all laugh. 
“Everyone’s against me tonight,” he complained. 
“I’m not,” James said as he placed an arm over Sirius, you gave Remus a diverted little smile, and he returned it with a bit of a shrug. “You’re our best boy after all,” James said, using the same tone Peter had used earlier, and making the rest of you laugh. 
Sirius looked at James shocked, like he had been betrayed by his friend. He then removed James’ arm from his shoulders and lagged behind until he was beside you, you leaned towards him a little. “It’s all right Puppy, I’ll make it up to you later.” 
He gave you a coquettish little smirk, “You promise?” 
You almost rolled your eyes at his lightning-fast change of behaviour, he had never even been actually upset, but decided to humour him instead “Oui, mon amour.” 
“I understood that!” James said teasingly. 
You just chuckled, “As if it were a secret.”
Sirius’s smile widened. Yes, that was right, he was your love.
Once you reached the end of the passage, just a few metres away from the entrance to the Slytherin Common Room Peter shrunk into Wormtail and disappeared through the door. You looked at him go, still fascinated by how the animgus transformation was so seamless. Yes, you were one yourself, but it’s not like you’d ever seen yourself transform. It had never even occurred to you that the process would be so interesting. 
And you were also thinking of how different it was to Remus’ transformation. His was painful, at least you assumed that it was since it had seemed pretty bad when he transformed back in the shack. You still remembered the way he’d yelped and bawled as his skin ripped and gave away to the wolf. The memory caused a shiver to run down your spine. 
“You cold?” you heard Remus whisper after he leaned towards you. You all had to be a lot more quiet now that you were close to the Slytherin common room. But the three of you had sat down in the hallway. You were on one side, with Sirius and Remus on each of your side, and James was in front of the three of you, Sirius had been leaning towards the front to be able to talk to him. 
“Me?” you asked as you turned to Rem. “No, no. It was more of a… It was just… nervousness,” you lied in the end. 
“You’re nervous?” he asked with a bit of a frown, emphasising the “you” as if he didn’t believe it was possible.
“Well, I’ve never sneaked into someone else's dorms to cause havoc,” you argued, digging yourself deeper into your lie. “It’s only natural that I would-“ 
He shook his head, “That’s not it. I know you, Miss Let’s Add The 100-year-old Veom Instead.” 
Sometimes it was annoying how well Remus could read you. You sighed, “well, I’m not nervous, but I’m not cold either. Let’s leave it at that?” He tilted his head to the side as if analysing the situation before nodding, you pulled your feet towards your chest and rested your head over your knees. “You think he’ll take much longer?” 
“He has to wait for most of them to be asleep. We can’t risk the door opening up and having no one get in.”
“We should have just gotten Slytherin ties and walked inside like we were part of them…” you huffed. 
Remus chuckled “As if the entire school didn’t already know the faces and names of three of the Gryffindor Quidditch Players.” 
“Polyjuice potion?” 
“And you just have that one around?” 
“Well, we made a pretty good one with Slughorn at the beginning of the year...”
“Maybe we should have kept some of it in a vase before handing it over.”  
“I did,” you said casually. 
Remus looked eyebrows shot upwards as he looked at you, trying to decide if you were joking or not, “You did?!?” 
You nodded, “it’s safe and sound on my trunk, in case we ever need it.” 
Remus had opened his mouth to speak again when you saw Wormtail returning through the small hole in the wall. He quickly turned, he was still crouching when he turned back, his teeth slowly shrinking to their normal size, which was already a little big for his face. 
“It’s emerald enigma,” he whispered, loud enough for the four of you to listen.
You raised your eyebrow, “emerald enigma? really?!?”
“Slytherins aren’t ever particularly clever with their passwords,” James said. 
“Once upon a time it was clever schemes,” Sirius said as he turned to you.
You looked at him even more shocked and  Remus nodded beside the two of you. 
“Time to go then,” James said. Peter was a rat in seconds, and then it was your turn. Just seconds afterwards, you had already turned into your own animagus form and walked towards Sirius’ lap. It’s not that you were certain he’d be the one carrying you, but it made sense. 
“Hey Kit,” he said softly as he allowed you to climb over one of his legs and then wrapped his hand under your belly, picking you up as he stood, and then placing his other arm underneath so you felt more secure. You leaned your head on his chest and paid attention to the reaction of the boys. Remus was wrapping the cloak around James and Sirius, while James had leaned closer to you and was staring at you from the side. 
James had never seen a fox up close, well he had seen you back at the full moon but it wasn’t the same thing. He seemed genuinely interested, but when he extended his hand to touch you, Sirius pulled back protectively, accidentally crashing into Remus. “Oi!” James complained as he stared. 
“She’s still hurt,” Sirius said defensively. 
“But she likes to be rubbed behind the ear,” offered Remus. 
Sirius nodded, the fact that Remus knew, or how he knew, didn’t even cross his mind. James looked directly at you “May I?” 
You didn’t hiss, or emit any other protest sound, so he leaned his hand again, staring at Sirius for permission. Your boyfriend nodded, a little apprehensive still and James pressed his hand onto your head. He was soft, like he was with cats, but then he scratched you the same way Padfoot liked being scratched and all of your hair stood on end. 
Involuntarily you turned your head towards him and opened your mouth to bite, your snout was already around his wrist when you realised what you were doing and pulled back, being helped by Sirius who also pulled you back. You looked at James and he had an apologetic look in his face, you too looked like you were sorry for trying to bite him. 
“Sorry,” the boy whispered, you nodded and that was that. James did not try to pet you again, at least not for a while, he’d seen how sharp your teeth were. 
Remus finished arranging the cloak around the three of them Sirius and you had ended up in the middle, James and Remus on each side, they were all standing pretty close to each other as the three walked outside of the hideout and towards the dungeons. You saw the potions classroom,  the boys passed by it as you stared around carefully, as a fox your senses were a lot better than theirs, except perhaps for Remus’ so you kept a close eye on the boy in case either you or him, heard something that would require you to warn them about something. 
Eventually, you reached the bare wall that would lead you to the Slytherin Dorms, you felt excitement piling up in the form of a knot in your stomach. You’d wanted to see their dorm for a while now. You had already seen the Ravenclaw and yours, obviously, and for some reason, the goal to sneak into all the different common rooms prowled into your head.
“Emerald Enigma,” James whispered towards the door and slowly the bricks from the wall started moving and opening into a relatively long passageway. The four of you stared ahead, paying close attention to the way the bricks moved and stepped forward as soon as they could comfortably fit through the door. The passageway opened into a rather long room, the ceiling was clearly very high above you, making the place feel almost nothing like the dungeons. In fact, you’d go as far as to say that it felt more like a palace since it was rather regal. The windows were looking straight to the black lake, with a few water creatures passing swiftly through them every now and then, it looked rather peaceful, which you wouldn’t have ever imagined the dungeons to be. 
The boys, who had to actually pay attention to where they were going, and who clearly had been there before, weren’t as awed as you were, in fact, they looked a lot more on edge, as they were checking all around the common room to make sure it was empty. Still, Remus and James continued to hold the cloak tightly, to make sure it wouldn’t fall, tumble or get caught into something. 
Once they were sure it was mostly empty, Remus removed the cloak from atop of you, and Sirius laid you gently on the ground. You turned back in a matter of seconds. “The boy’s dorms are to the left,” Sirius informed. “Barty’s number 15, he’s with Regulus.” 
“Evan, Snape and Mulciber are on the 24th,” you said. Sirius turned to you with a frown, as if asking how you knew, you shrugged, “I got it from Minho.” 
Sirius’ frown deepened “You asked him?” 
“Of course I didn’t straight up ask him, It’d be too suspicious, although I’m sure Minho wouldn’t rat us out.” On purpose, you thought, after all, he had been the reason you concluded Remus was probably bi, or maybe pan. 
“So how?” 
“A magician never reveals her secrets,” you said with a sly smile. It really hadn’t been a particularly smart conversation that you’d had. You just mentioned that Mary was telling you about the power of numbers and that she thought our room numbers had significance. It was partially true, at least she did talk to you about the power of numbers, after divination a couple of weeks ago. You then told Minho your room number and the boys and he started sharing all of the Slytherin ones you knew.
He hummed in response, “Fine then, we split.” 
“That’s the worst idea ever.” 
“No, it’d be faster,” James added. 
“You’ve never seen a horror movie, have you?” 
Remus smiled, he understood exactly what you were referring to, and then leaned a little closer to you. “Don’t worry, you’re already hanging out with the most dangerous monster in the castle,” he joked. 
You turned to him, almost a little surprised by his statement, “Who knows, maybe there are vampires hidden somewhere, or acromantulas, or basilisks, or magical armours that want to cut you in half.” 
“You need to tone it down with the fantasy books Vixen,” James said with a teasing smile, “you and Sirius go to Barty’s. We’ll go to Snivellus', Peter, look out. Deal?” 
You huffed, but nodded, “Keep the cloak,” you said before casting a disillusionment over yourself and Sirius. Remus, who had heard from Sirius how good your charm was, was still somewhat shocked by it. It really was almost as good as James' invisibility cloak, unless he paid really, really close attention. 
“Damn she’s–“ 
“Really fucking good, I know!” Sirius finished. You handed a small bag to Remus, who took it as it slowly became visible. 
“I’ve kept what I’ll need, use the rest,” you told him, and finally split ways. You and Sirius moved to Barty’s room.  
“Alohomora,” he whispered, along with a silencing charm so the door wouldn’t creak. Four boys were soundly sleeping on each of their beds. The first one you spotted was someone you instantly recognized and you gasped, covering your mouth when you realised you had been a bit too loud. 
Sirius threw you a look and walked closer, “It’s Nox,” you whispered, the muffliato you had used earlier helping you be as stealthy as possible, “from the reading club, didn’t know he was Barty’s roommate. He hangs out with Neil and Todd most of the time.” 
It’s not like Srius didn’t know you had friends other than your friend group, but it was sometimes weird that you knew people in the castle he barely even recognized. “Want me to add a ward around him?” 
You thought about it for a second, and nodded “We really should,” you said “I don’t want the prank to affect him…” 
“What about the rest?” 
You turned around, there was a silver-blond haired boy who you didn’t actually recognize, Sirius leaned closer to you and pointed at the boy, “Solacis Gaunt, he’s close to Reg and Barty,” he said as he pointed. 
“Gaunt as in…?” You turned to him, in disbelief.
“Yeah…��� 
You bit your lip, even if this Solacis was friends with Barty and his group, he hadn’t been there that night, and you had no idea how he would have reacted, and regarding his last name, well you refused to believe that was any sign of people’s character. After all, you being who you were and Sirius being who he was, had never actually altered your actual selves… What’s in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet, you remembered. “We’ll ward him too.” 
“And Regulus?” he asked, you could see the apprehension in his voice. You turned to the boy, last time you saw him he had tried to approach you in a friendly manner and you’d blown him off. Being asleep he looked so unguarded, so little preoccupied as his chest rose up and down, you almost felt bad for the way you had treated him. But then you remembered what he had done and the anger boiled back up to your chest. He had knowingly betrayed you and Sirius, all those lost years… 
You had two hex bags, you could easily slip one under his pillow as well, have him suffer the fright of his life, bring him down to desperate cries, overpowered, helpless. But Regulus had stayed on the sidelines, he had tried to stay out of your way since that time at the race when you basically told him to piss off. It was like he had been trying to make you less uncomfortable, even if it pained him, not that you knew. But you did notice that you saw him around a lot less, he avoided you, and even if he did stare at you and Sirius from the sidelines, he never even dared to accidentally cross paths. That you had noticed. 
And laying there, his head resting on his pillow, his hair pulled back revealing his delicate features, he looked every bit a Black, every bit like his brother. You took a deep breath, it was in his graceful nose, in his long dark lashes, in his thin, pinky lips. All of those features that drew you to Sirius, the things that made your boyfriend as beguiling as a Siren’s call. They really are brothers, you thought. And how? How would you be able to hurt him? What he did had been years ago, and he had been a kid too, pressured by his parents. It’s not that you wanted to be friends again, but you didn’t want to cause him sorrow either. “He’ll too be warded off.” 
Sirius frowned, “But after what…” 
You turned to him, your dark expression clearly telling him you knew exactly what he had done, even if he could barely see it due to your spell. “He was not there that night. He didn’t do this to me,” you said, pointing to your wound, “this isn’t about some old grudge we have against him, this about Monday. This about what happened that night and the people that allowed this bastard to do it,” you said, giving Crouch a short glance “And Sirius, he is your brother.” 
He swallowed, “He’s a Black.” Every bit a Black, you recalled your earlier thought. You also wondered how such a messed up gene pool could make such beautiful children. 
“You are one too,” you whispered as you walked closer, “and I still, I lo- like you very much. Every bit of you,” you added in the end and pressed a few kisses to his face for good measure, perhaps he would have missed the slip of your tongue. Not that you didn’t mean it, but you wouldn’t expect Sirius to comprehend it, you’d barely been dating for a few months. “You’re still my Puppy, no matter what last name you have.” 
Sirius gave you one long look and smiled when you kissed his nose, placing both hands around your face to bring your lips to his, he had heard the slip of your tongue, and it only made him want to kiss you even more. When you finally separated for air, he was the first one to speak. “I’m gonna have to kiss you again if you keep it up with the sappy stuff,” he joked. 
You raised your eyebrows at that and then placed your finger over his lips, “You have a terrible habit of kissing me in the middle of stealth missions.” 
“What do you mean I have the– You’re literally the one that starts it!” he added with an accusing finger.  
“Yeah but you always kiss back,” you shrugged. 
He gave you a diverted look as he bit his lip, and leaned in again, you leaned in as well, but he stopped right before your lips crashed against each other and smirked, “yeah, I’m not the only one who’s eager to kiss back.” You pushed his chest playfully as you narrowed your eyes at him, and then you heard Nox stir on his bed. The two of you leaned down and gave each other a look. 
Both realising how stupid you had been by flirting –and making out– in the middle of the room where you were supposed to place the hex bags. You gave each other a look and almost chuckled. If Remus had been here, we would have stopped us, you thought, he’s the most reasonable of this bunch. And perhaps Remus would have, but only because he wasn’t able to join you. 
When Nox finally stopped, you took a deep breath and both stood again. “Warding, I’ll place this.” 
Sirius nodded and the two of you started with your tasks. You walked to Barty’s bed and smirked when you realised how easy this would be. You took a deep breath and leaned over the boy. Asleep, he didn’t look as wicked as he did on a daily basis. There was no sneer on his face and he almost looked peaceful. Not for long, you thought as you bit your lip to stop yourself from chuckling. You took a deep breath and raised his pillow slightly, placing the hex bag in its place. Then you looked at the leftover bag and decided to place it under his pillow as well. You shrugged, the more the merrier. 
He instantly stirred on the bed, a small frown appearing on his face as his breath quickened. Let's see how you liked being scared, you thought and turned to Sirius. He was just finishing with his castings. He gave you a questioning look and you nodded, the two of you slid out of the bedroom as soon as possible. As you got out you spotted James and Remus just below the stairs, giving you questioning looks. 
“What the hell took you so long?” James asked, “I thought there was only Barty there.” 
“We had a bit of a pitfall, but we did it.” Sirius responded. 
Yeah, making out is definitely a pitfall, you thought. 
“We’re ready to go then?” Peter asked, he looked rather nervous.
Remus nodded, “We just have to make sure Jackdaw does his…” 
At that moment, from all the different walls, ghosts started sliding in, you smiled, Richie had actually convinced them. He approached your group with a smile, “You owe them some rotten meat,” he informed. 
“Rotten meat, that’s all it took? Should’ve told me sooner, I’ll take you all the rotten food you want,” you replied. He gave you a wink and flew towards the rest of the ghosts.  Sirius frowned at the flirty wink from Jackdaw but didn’t say a thing. 
“Job’s done kiddos,” James said, and Remus pulled the cloak out. All of you stifled inside and walked together until you were away from prying eyes. You all knew it wouldn’t be a good idea to turn into your animagus in front of the ghosts. The muggle saying “silent as the dеad” couldn’t be further from the truth. 
Once you were in the hall that led to the inside of the common room, and that both Moony and Prongs made sure there was no one watching, you and Peter turned at once. Sirius picked you up and held you in his arms, while Moony adjusted the cloak to make sure it was covering everyone up and finally, you left the common room. 
That’s where things went south. Just as the bricks opened themselves again someone was walking inside. The three boys took a step to the side as Slughorn walked in. The three leaned against the wall, Sirius carefully squeezed you, or Vixen, against his chest, so you occupied as little space as possible. You noticed Peter trying to distract Slughorn by walking near his feet, but he still seemed focused on walking in, the first thing he noticed was the ghosts making their own little mess, the main distraction. 
Thankfully the headless hunt was not about to be deterred by one teacher, and they continued with their task as Slughorn called for help. This wasn’t meant to be now, it should’ve been later. You turned to look at the boys, they all had apprehensive stares, you could practically smell their stress as they finally unglued their backs from the wall and started walking towards the hallway. Once in the dungeons, and away from the havoc you had caused, you thought you were safe. And perhaps you would’ve been, had Evan not been coming back from the infirmary so late. 
He pretty much bumped into the invisible wall that was your three friends, and all would have been fine, except for the fact that he straight-up stepped on James’ feet and he grunted in response.
“Potter?” Evan asked, instantly recognizing his voice. 
Fuck. 
Evan extended his hand to grab onto the front but the boys pulled back just in time. Regardless, Evan didn’t relent, “Potter I know it’s you. Either you come the fuck out or I’ll hex your stupid rat,” he said, pulling a screeching Peter out of his pocket. James swallowed and gave each Sirius and Remus a look; you tried to jump down from Sirius’s grasp, perhaps you could distract Evan by biting him while Peter escaped, but Sirius tightened his hold as you tried to squirm away. He knew what you were thinking, but he also knew Evan could just kick you out of the way, and he was not going to risk you being hurt by his hands again. 
Evan pointed his long and thin wand towards Wormtail and you felt everyone tense even more. “Come on Jamesie, you wouldn’t allow me to kill your stupid rat, would you?” he added. “How much damage do you think a confringo like the one your stupid little friend used on me earlier today would cause? Hmmm… Perhaps I could use him as target practice…” Evan tilted his head, “No?” he asked again, “well then,” he added and adjusted his wand in his hand. Peter shrieked again, “We’ll see if your stupid rat ends up better or worse than your friend after the Shrieking Shack.” 
To your surprise, it wasn’t James who jumped to protect Peter, but it was Sirius. He handed you over to James who barely managed to react and grab you before he left the cloak and planted his fist on Evan’s face. Peter fell from his hands and shrieked as his face crashed onto the floor just before running off. 
Evan staggered back, reeling from the sheer force of Sirius’ punch but he retaliated, shoving Sirius with eager ferocity as if he had been longing for a challenge. One where he actually won. Evan was much taller and broader than Sirius, and you squirmed in James’ arms yearning to intervene but he held you firmly, casting down an impatient glance before turning his attention back to the boys. 
Evan managed to land a solid on Sirius’ jaw, but the longer-haired boy didn’t even flinch, instead he used the momentum and the loss of balance from Evan to throw himself towards his opponent, effectively managing to throw the blonde on the ground. You winced as Evan turned the two of them around and started hitting Sirius’ defenceless face. 
In response to the escalating violence, James panicked –handing you over to Remus who cradled you with a lot more consideration– and he too left the cloak, leaving only you and the werewolf inside. However, Sirius had already managed to turn things around, he had started to punch Evan repeatedly in the face. James lunged forward to intervene, but he got accidentally elbowed by Sirius, who, swivelling in concern, was met with another punch from Evan. 
When you figured James wouldn’t be able to stop them, you started squirming again, a lot more intensely now but Remus’ hold didn’t budge. So instead you turned back, which surprised the boy only for a second as you ended up pretty much shoved against him. You were just about to leave the cloak too when you heard a voice.
“STOOOP!”  Slughorn roared. 
After looking at the man using his wand to pull Sirius and Evan apart, you were ready to jump out, but Remus’ strong arms tightened around you, not letting you out. You weren’t sure if it had been intentional or not, but somehow he hadn’t touched your wound while he did.
“Remus what–“ You started to complain, but he placed his hand over your mouth and started dragging you back and away from the upheaval. 
You tried to fight it, but it was useless. Remus was much more stronger than you, once you were far away enough he whispered, “It’s okay, they’re okay.” You frowned, he must have felt how tense you were, because he continued talking, voice a lot more soothing now, “if I had let you out there, you would have achieved nothing other than getting punished along with them.”
You knew he was right, and yet that didn’t reduce the urge you had to bite him for talking your agency away. You jerked your shoulders in response, still angry, feeling a sharp pain in your arm that should have calmed you down, but Evan being such an ass to Peter had made you angry enough. Hitting your boyfriend in the face? You were actually considering hexing him again, intentionally this time around. You took a deep breath, you felt Remus’ hand brushing up and down over your good arm, still attempting to relieve your anger… And as much as you hated to admit it, it was distractingly relaxing. 
You tried to shake him off one last time before completely relaxing into his arms. He leaned in closer to whisper again, “Remember I was telling you about not getting caught?” He asked. And waited for you to answer. His hand was still over your mouth, you raised your eyebrows at him. He gave you a look, not moving his hand away. And eventually, you just nodded. He was smart, he knew you well too, you could have screamed, you could still see Slughorn talking to Evan and the boys from where you stood. 
You could have also bit him, force him to remove his hand from your face, but you had no intention of hurting Remus. Perhaps you didn’t want to get punished along them either, the more you thought about it, the more sense it made to try and stay in the sidelines and make sure the prank was completed, even if Prongs and Pads had gotten caught. 
“Well, this is one of those moments in which staying behind, and in the quiet is best,” he said softly, vocalising your own thoughts. “James and Sirius are going to get detention regardless of whether you intervene or not. Trust me, I too wanted to punch Evan in the face after he said that about the Shrieking Shack but I knew it was best to hold back. I don’t think he would’ve hurt Peter.” 
You wondered if Remus had seen or heard about the way his hands had dug into your skin that day in the Forbidden Forest, about the bruises Sirius later covered up with his kisses. Even then, some of the marks still fading in your skin, you didn’t think Evan would actually hurt Peter either, in fact, you weren’t even sure he had hurt you on purpose. That’s not something you would’ve said of Barty, he was completely unhinged. 
Remus was still holding you flush against his body when he took a deep breath. He had felt how much more relaxed you were now, somehow his voice and his touch had gotten you to calm down. 
He shouldn’t have been surprised, it wasn’t the first time it happened, but you had been so much more rilled up this time than back when the boys threw you and Sirius from your brooms that he wasn’t even sure if you’d forgive him for stopping you. 
“I’m gonna take my hand away from your mouth, okay?” You nodded again, he did, and rested his forehead on your shoulder, sighing when he realised you really weren’t going to scream. “I’m sorry,” he added then, “shouldn’t have grabbed you like that.” 
“It’s okay,” you said quietly, “I don’t mind it if you hold me Remus…” you mumbled. “I mean… Thank you.” 
“What?!” he asked, baffled. 
“You were right, it would have been stupid to join the fight. I wouldn’t have been able to do anything, I need to be more calm instead. Like I was in the library with the howler, like you. It’s just that Evan punching Sirius fucking vexed me.” 
“I know…” he managed to say, me too, he thought. In fact, if you hadn’t been around, he might have actually been the person to throw punches after Sirius got the first one. Evan might have been taller and broader than your boyfriend, but he was no match against Remus, let alone if you factored in his werewolf strength. 
You leaned back against him, the back of your head resting against his shoulder as you too sighed, “Does it always feel so terrible when a prank goes wrong?” 
He hummed in response, “they’ll be all right, detention is just sitting in a classroom being bored or writing an essay most of the time… Don’t worry too much about them.” 
“Feels bad that we’ll get out of this scots free but they won’t, though.” 
“Survivors' guilt.” 
You hummed, closing your eyes, “Thanks for holding me back,” you said again, “I don’t know what I’d do without you Rem.” 
He stifled a laugh at that, you’d probably be more than fine without him. He, on the other hand… “Count on your good old werewolf friend to help you hold those murderous tendencies,” he joked. You actually laughed at that, and then covered your mouth with your hands, looking around. 
“It’s all right, you can laugh, I cast a silencing spell,” he said, motioning to his hand with a small nod, he had his wand in a hold. 
“Was that before or after you took your hand away from my mouth?” you asked. The guilty look on his face was hidden by your shoulder, but his lack of a straight answer gave him away regardless. “Dumbass, I wouldn’t have screamed, I’m not that reckless.” 
“You literally left your wand on the floor with a werewolf in front of you. You ARE that reckless.”
“Well it wasn’t just any werewolf,” you said in self-defence, even if you were only digging yourself in a deeper hole. There was a comfortable silence and you sighed one last time, “We should finish up, the grand finale,” you said, finally separating from him, the lack of warmth almost made you shiver, “gotta make our boys proud, don’t we?” 
He smiled, his eyes shimmering with mischief, “Let’s do it.”  
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Glossaire:   Mo chailleachan àlainn: My beautiful fools Est-ce que ça fait de toi mon trésor?: Does that make you my treasure?  Je peux être tout ce que tu veux que je sois: I can be whatever you wish me to be. Oui, mon amour: Yes my love
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Series Masterlist | Next Chapter
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A/N: Hey guys, this episode definetly took a little longer to post than I expected. But it's finally out! Hope you enjoy this one as much as I enjoyed writing it. How are we feeling? More cute Rem moments, right? What's gonna happen to James and Sirius though? ᕙ( ᗒᗣᗕ )ᕗ Lilly xxx
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the-faceless-bride · 3 months ago
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Yandere Oc (Valarie) × Reader ⚰️🕊
This series is A DARK ROMANCE/HORROR and may have content that some readers may find disturbing. Triggering. Or harmful. I strongly suggest that if you don't enjoy Dead Doves content this story isn't for you. @pricegouge had inspired me to get into writing like this again for their AMAZING slasher 141 stuff. So thank you for the inspiration to continue this.
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Proluge: "Stranger..."
As most times in your life. You're bad decisions came from your friends and their wild ideas. Your boyfriend Mike, your friends, Jessica and Ashley had all decided that this week would be a party week! No rules, no responsibility, no consequences for anything! It was part time.
And it was draining your social battery...
Before your boyfriend you were a homebody. You liked being alone with your music, your fantasies, and your cat... well...
You tried to stay positive, this trip was for you after all. You'd been so sad when your cat Gizzmo passed away, they thought this would cheer you right up. Apparently, they don't know you very well. Not like you thought anyway...
At the moment you were at a bar/club; drained, a bit tipsy, and a bit jealous at the sight of Mike dancing a bit too close on Jessica. Ashley had tried an chatt a bit, you'd always liked her a little more than Jess. She at least checked up on you here and there. Jessica seemed more interested in just coming around for Mike.
"Not having fun?" - a voice calls to you over the music, turning your head you see a handsome man. Shoulder length hair pulled into a low ponytail, his bands and strands falling to Frame his gorgeous face. His voice sweet and seductive like honey. - "not really, and not looking forward to the future either!" - You yell over the booming base of the speakers, - he raises his brow confused on what you mean, - "my friends found some pond they want to skinny dip in after this! My friend Jessica suggested it! I'm not to thrilled to go swimming in a random pond!" - "ah, I see. Not alone then! That's good, i wouldn't wanna go to 'Dead Hookers Lake' alone either!" - Dead... what? - "w-What does that mean?" - You ask scooting over in your barstool to get closer to the tall man. - "Well, It's kinda a rumor y'know? Just something this small town says! Apparently with all the passers-byes some folks end up missing! But they can never really say for sure. This town is almost a ghost town by now! So really, it's just something scary people say to keep pretty girls from wandering out too late at night!" - oh, great. Just what you need. A story that's gonna fuck with your tipsy brain and make you paranoid all night long. Thanks random stranger at the bar. Just what you needed. - "you staying here long?"- you were about to answer but then that paranoia set in, - "I can't tell you." - "...why?" - "cuz you're a stranger."- that just made the man pause. Just... staring at you...
"BABE!!" Mike yelled across the bar, - "LETS GO!!"- he called with the wave of his hand Ashley and Jessica already making their way out. Giving the stranger a short good bye you lightly jogged to Mike before looking back at the strange man once more...
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"Are you sure about this?"
You call to your friends and boyfriend, who had already stripped down and gone into the cool muddy water. "Ugh! Stop being a Debbie Downer!! Get in, it's fine!" Jessica called back, making a face to Mike before giggling.
"MHmm," - you make a noise of uncertainty and slight disgust, "the water looks questionable to me!" You respond, "It's fine Babe just drop the tee-shirt already"- Mike said, a bit uninterested. You knew why, he was busy staring down Jess.
Then again, you couldn't blame him, she was very pretty.
Dusty blonde hair, honey brown eyes, plump lips, a full curvy body with great legs and very nice breasts, hell even you looked.
But now, it made you all the more self conscious.
But taking a deep breath, you slowly dropped your boyfriends shirt you had been holding infront of you to hide yourself for a bit longer before the inevitable.
Dead hookers lake. Huh. If you felt anything touch your leg you were gonna flip.
Getting into the water, after many little pep talks you slowly tip-toed through the water to reach your Boyfriend. Every now and again anxiously looking around the water, looking for nothing and everything. Ripples in the water distorting the shadows of the pond, making shapes of horrors just below the surface. Your eyes looking around picturing what could be right there and you wouldn't even know it till something touched you. A fish, a plant, a body, HELL even a crocodile or something! Finally making it to Mike, you pull and cling on to him like a baby koala. Refusing to let go, and slowly the paranoia and anxiety started to disappear.
"What the hell was that-"
Until it came rushing back, "what's what?" Jessica asked a confused and disgusted Ashley, "I think I just stepped in something?" Ashley reaches under, her lip curling up in a grossed out face before starting to rise whatever it was she stepped on out of the water.
"I think it's like a dead fish or something-"
A Hand.
A Mushy. bloated. Discolored. Rotted. Hand.
And everything begins happening all at once.
Ashley is screaming, dropping the hand back into the water, watching the loose skin stretch and wrinkle as it sinks back to the bottom where it once laid. Jessica is rushing out of the water, a never ending stream of- "oh my God. oh my God. Oh My God." 's leaving her soft pleading lips, Mike rushing to get you all out of the water and to your phones to call the cops.
This can not be happening. It just can't. You feel your chest tighten as it gets harder and harder to take a steady breath. You fight the urge to gag as you too begin to rush out of the water.
"They're gone."
Huh?
"What do you mean "'they're gone.'" Mike?!"
"Our phones! THEYRE ALL GONE!"
Everyone is in full panic mode now. Mike and Ashley looking feverishly on the ground to see if maybe they had fallen, Jessica is now telling herself this isn't read. And you're vision is getting Hazy.
Then a Scream.
an ear bleeding, gut wrenching. Scream.
The scream turns to a gurgle, and Jessica holds her neck as she bleeds freely from the new wound. Eventually falling as the tries to press the hole in her neck. Twitching as the dirt and mud covers her naked body, ruining her perfect skin as the rocks under her leave cuts and scrapes against her backside.
"JESSICA!" Mike screams; a mix of fear, horror and anger.
And within a fraction of a second, Mike and Ashley take off running.
Not bothering to fully get dressed. Ashley tossing on her long sweater and Mike is boxers, you clumsily pulling on Mike's tee-shirt and panties as you try and keep up, "wait! Please! Wait for me! Please don't leave me!" You scream out to them, trying to navigate the way out of the thickly packed wood that over casted the dirt trail. And then as you tumble from a tree root a large hard hand grabs you, pulling you to a strong chest and holding you down.
In a panic, unable to use your hands and the large hand comes close to your nose and mouth with a cloth you toss your head back hoping to hit something to make the attacker let go, a man gasps but ultimately it only seems to hurt you more than him... and in that moment a sweet smell hits you, the soft cloth over your face being the only comfort in that moment.
"Don't worry, I'll take care of them. You just rest for now. Goodnight Darling." The voice slowly fades away.
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A/n: here is what "Stranger" looks like, you'll get his name in the first chapter.
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And here is voice claim. (Let me know if it doesn't work. It's been weird. And dont mind the capcut 🤓💀)
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yandere-daydreams · 1 year ago
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tw - fem!reader, implied kidnapping, implied stalking.
“I used to be the best dancer in Snezhnaya.”
You hum, playing thoughtful while she guides you through a loose turn and savoring the way the skirt of your dress fans out behind you. The music is slower than you prefer, made more for conversation than exhibition, but you’ve never taken much of an interest in gossip, nor can you stand discussions on the circus that is Fontaine’s political sphere. This, the performance of it all, is all you really care about. Well, that and a chance to sample champagne fit for an archon, of course. “Used to be?”
“I was recently usurped. A tragic turn of events, I know, but it was well-deserved.” Her gloved hand falls from your side to your lower back. It’s too low to offer any real support, clearly a choice made for aesthetics over practicality, but you don’t protest. You can hold yourself up, even if your feet won’t thank you for your independence in the morning. “By a foreigner, no less – some court gem so lovely and so elegant, even the Tsaritsa couldn’t help but stare. I didn’t stand a chance.”
“That’s not exactly a description I’d expect from an envy-stricken rival.”
“I’m not jealous. I couldn’t be.” She takes an unexpected step forward and you take one back, nearly colliding with another pair too caught up with each other to mind anyone else. You purse your lips. Arlecchino – that was what she said when you asked for the name of the strange, monochromatic woman who’d spent the better half of the evening scaring your other potential partners away. A diplomat from Snezhnaya, if memory served. Hopefully, for the sake of her nation, she’s better at the negotiation table than in the ballroom. “I was the one foolish enough to bring her home with me.” There’s a slight pause, a wistful sigh, as if she’s recalling something dear to her. “We only knew each other for a few days – just a few nights, really. I could hardly bring myself to speak to her, but she was the one to approach me, in the end.”
A quick turn that became into an abrupt twirl, a tug in a direction that went against the flow of the dance floor. This time, you fail to suppress your reaction, a slight frown coming to rest across your lips as Arlecchino flashes a broad grin, nearly hauling you to a less populated corner of the dance floor. “You must be quite the hopeless romantic.”
Your voice is flat, cold, but if she notices your sudden change in demeanor, she doesn’t seem to mind, doesn’t deem the insult worth leaving you alone and partnerless in the middle of the dance (no matter how much you’re starting to wish she would). Rather, she only pulls you closer, until your chest is flush against hers, her mouth close enough to your ear for her voice to resonate in a way that makes you want to run. “More possessive than romantic, unfortunately.” Her grin is heavy in her tone. “I’ve just always preferred to keep the things I find beautiful close by.”
That’s enough. You try to wrench your hands out of hers, to shove her away from you, your reputation be damned, but her hold is iron-clad around yours, her posture unfaltering. In one smooth motion, she sweeps your legs from underneath you, leaving you falling into a deep, full-body dip – her strength the only thing separating you from the floor. You open your mouth, ready to scream, but there’s a tight pinch somewhere in your lower back, the feeling of something very small and very sharp being pushed underneath your skin, and your voice catches in your throat, your vision blurring as your body stiffens and your joints lock into place. You do what you can to stay upright, to stay conscious, but it’s a futile pursuit, punctuated by a soft laugh, a pair of smiling lips pressed gingerly against yours. “You’ll like it, in the Tsaritsa’s court,” she says, the words just barely above a whisper.
“I know how to keep my precious gems polished.”
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beastofburdenxo · 11 months ago
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Just A Little Kiss
Reader is a bigger girl and self-conscious about a certain part of her body. Emmett, her new boyfriend, puts her fears at ease.
MINORS DNI one shot, 900 words. Tags: Language, pussy worship, oral sex F receiving, pubic hair. (Emmett is a fiend, and part of me is ashamed to have written this. But anyways...) @your-nanas-house @mrkdvidal1989
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Emmett crawls up the bed towards you after you are all warm and dry from your shower. With your book to occupy you, you don’t expect to feel his hot mouth on your thighs. “What are you doing, Emmett?” you ask as he continues to pepper your legs with kisses. “Just giving my girl kisses is all.” he replies. You put the book down next to you, “Well come closer and I’ll give you kisses.” With your arms out to receive him, he shakes his head. “I’m not talking to you sweetheart, wrong girl.” As he moves closer and closer to your panties. It takes you a minute to get what he’s saying, and then it hits you as you quickly close your legs up tight. “No Emmett!” He chuckles at your sudden realization at what he wants. “But baby, she is just demanding me to kiss her, I can’t say no!” You pull your legs up closer to you. “I don’t care what she wants, I’m saying no!” You and Emmett have just started seeing each other and you are very uncomfortable with your body, at least a certain part of it anyways. Emmett moves up closer to you, whispering in your ear, “I think we should listen to her, eh? Just a peek? A small kiss to say hello?”  
You playfully shove him away, wanting to hide under the covers. “She’s lying Emmett, leave her alone.” He makes a sound of displeasure, “What’s wrong Babygirl? I just want to explore your beautiful body and make you feel good. Why can’t I do that, hmm?” He rubs your knee with his thumb, genuinely concerned at your behavior. Emmett adores you and he just wants to show you how much. “I-I-I just don’t want you going down there, okay? It’s all ugly down there, just leave it alone!” Tears are trying to invade your eyes. Emmett gently holds your face with his hand, blue eyes soft with concern at how you feel about yourself. “You are not ugly, you hear me? You are not ugly, you are not too big, you are perfect to me. Did someone tell you that baby? That your pussy was ugly?” You bury your face in his shoulder, not wanting eye contact. “He did, he said that it was too big and gross looking.” He is her mean ex-boyfriend who refused to go down there after seeing it for the first time. It wasn’t what he wanted, so she thinks all men think that way. “Well, he is an asshole, and he is very much wrong, sweetheart. Every inch of you is thick and wonderful, and I'm going to show you.”  
Before you can digest what Emmett is telling you, He has ripped your panties off. You squeal in alarm at being exposed. “It’s okay, I've got you.” You start to flail around in fear, but Emmett quickly pulls your legs apart and stills you with a slap to your ass cheek. “Now you kick me, you’ll be in big trouble little girl!” he growls, his voice turned deep and gravelly. He softly rubs your sides and hips, keeping eye contact even though you're open to him now. “There she is, easy now, baby. Easy.” You decide to keep still, not wanting to be in “trouble” whatever that means. He takes his eyes downwards, finally viewing you fully for the first time. His strong hand follows, gently petting the thick hair you have down there. Time has stopped, the only thing you can hear is your heartbeat and Emmett’s panting. “Fuck.” He whispers to himself, spreading your lips apart with his fingers. “Just perfect. Better than I ever could have pictured.” Emmett finally makes eye contact with you, pupils blown like he’s high on drugs. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, and you ask, “Are-Are you drooling, Emmett?” He smiles, “Fuck yeah, I am, it’s delectable down here. How could I not? Everything is so kissable and suck able, perfect size for my mouth.” 
You turn bashful at his words about your most intimate parts. “So, it’s not too big?” Emmett groans as he continues to run his fingers through your soft bush. “Fuck no, and this here,” He gently pulls on the hairs, making you gasp, “Is just the icing on the cake, baby. I love it natural.” Emmett is now face to face with your pussy, nuzzling your thighs with his beard. “Shit you smell so good baby,” he mumbles against your plump thigh, “I could have a terrible day and all you’d have to do is show her to me, and it would make it all better. Fuck, I gotta taste you. Just a small kiss. Oh. please.” He moves forward, giving your big clit a gentle kiss, and then another, and another. Both of you moaning as he pulls a lip into his mouth to suck on like candy. “Emmett.” you whimper, previous fears gone out of the window. He stays down there for what feels like eternity, making you come repeatedly into his mouth, making you bite your pillow. Finally, he comes up for air, the blue in his eyes completely gone. His hair is a mess from your fingers, both beard and shirt damp from your juices and sweat. All he can do is smile at you, as he goes down for seconds.
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sassenach77yle · 7 months ago
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“You thought you were dying when we brought you up here, didn’t you?” I asked. My voice sounded more bewildered than accusing. It took him a moment to answer, though he didn’t look hesitant. It was more as though he was looking for the proper words. “Well, I didna ken for sure, no,” he said slowly. “Though I did feel verra ill.” His eyes closed, slowly, as though he were too tired to keep them open. “I still do,” he added, in a detached sort of voice.
“Ye needna worry, though—I’ve made my choice.”
“What on earth do you mean by that?” I groped beneath the covers, and found his wrist. He was warm; hot again, in fact, and with a pulse that was too fast, too shallow. Still, it was so different from the deathly chill I had felt in him the night before that my first reaction was relief. He took a couple of deep breaths, then turned his head and opened his eyes to look at me. “I mean I could have died last night.” He could, certainly—and yet that wasn’t what he meant. He made it sound like a conscious— “What do you mean you’ve made your choice? You’ve decided not to die, after all?” I tried to speak lightly, but it wasn’t working very well. I remembered all too well that odd sense of timeless stillness that had surrounded us. “It was verra strange,” he said. “And yet it wasna strange at all.” He sounded faintly surprised.
“I think,” I said carefully, keeping a thumb on his pulse, “you’d better tell me just what happened.” He actually smiled at that, though the smile was more in his eyes than his lips. Those were dry, and painfully cracked in the corners. I touched his lips with a finger, wanting to go and fetch some soothing ointment for him, some water, some tea—but I put aside the impulse, steeling myself to stay and hear. “I dinna really know, Sassenach—or rather, I do, but I canna think quite how to say it.” He still looked tired, but his eyes stayed open. They lingered on my face, a vivid blue in the morning light, with an expression almost of curiosity, as though he hadn’t seen me before.
“You are so beautiful,” he said, softly. “So verra beautiful, mo chridhe.”
My hands were covered with fading blue blotches and overlooked smears of buffalo blood, I could feel my hair clinging in unwashed tangles to my neck, and I could smell everything from the stale-urine odor of dye to the reek of fear-sweat on my body. And yet whatever he saw lit his face as though he were looking at the full moon on a summer night, pure and lovely. His eyes stayed fixed on my face as he talked, absorbed, moving slightly as they seemed to trace my features. “I felt verra badly indeed when Arch and Roger Mac brought me up,” he said. “Terribly sick, and my leg and my head both throbbing with each heartbeat, so much that I began to dread the next. And so I would listen to the spaces between. Ye wouldna think it,” he said, sounded vaguely surprised, “but there is a great deal of time between the beats of a heart.” He had, he said, begun to hope, in those spaces, that the next beat would not come. And slowly, he realized that his heart was indeed slowing—and that the pain was growing remote, something separate from himself. His skin had grown colder, the fever fading from both body and mind, leaving the latter oddly clear. “And this is where I canna really say, Sassenach.” He pulled his wrist from my grip in the intensity of his story, and curled his fingers over mine. “But I . . . saw.” “Saw what?” And yet I already knew that he couldn’t tell me. Like any doctor, I had seen sick people make up their minds to die—and I knew that look they sometimes had; eyes wide-fixed on something in the distance. He hesitated, struggling to find words. I thought of something, and jumped in to try to help. “There was an elderly woman,” I said. “She died in the hospital where I was on staff—all her grown children with her, it was very peaceful.” I looked down, my own eyes fixed on his fingers, still red and slightly swollen, interlaced with my own stained and bloody digits. “She died—she was dead, I could see her pulse had stopped, she wasn’t breathing. All her children were by her bedside, weeping. And then, quite suddenly, her eyes opened. She wasn’t looking at any of them, but she was seeing something. And she said, quite clearly, ‘Oooh!’ Just like that—thrilled, like a little girl who’s just seen something wonderful. And then she closed her eyes again.” I looked up at him, blinking back tears. “Was it—like that?” He nodded, speechless, and his hand tightened on mine. “Something like,” he said, very softly. He had felt oddly suspended, in a place he could by no means describe, feeling completely at peace—and seeing very clearly. “It was as if there was a—it wasna a door, exactly, but a passageway of some kind—before me. And I could go through it, if I wanted. And I did want to,” he said, giving me a sideways glance and a shy smile. He had known what lay behind him, too, and realized that for that moment, he could choose. Go forward—or turn back. “And that’s when you asked me to touch you?” “I knew ye were the only thing that could bring me back,” he said simply. “I didna have the strength, myself.” There was a huge lump in my throat; I couldn’t speak, but squeezed his hand very tight. “Why?” I asked at last. “Why did you . . . choose to stay?” My throat was still tight, and my voice was hoarse. He heard it, and his hand tightened on mine; a ghost of his usual firm grip, and yet with the memory of strength within it. “Because ye need me,” he said, very softly. “Not because you love me?” He looked up then, with a shadow of a smile.
“Sassenach . . . I love ye now, and I will love ye always. Whether I am dead—or you—whether we are together or apart. You know it is true,” he said quietly, and touched my face. “I know it of you, and ye know it of me as well.”
He bent his head then, the bright hair swinging down across his cheek. “I didna mean only you, Sassenach. I have work still to do. I thought—for a bit—that perhaps it wasna so; that ye all might manage, with Roger Mac and auld Arch, Joseph and the Beardsleys. But there is war coming, and—for my sins—” he grimaced slightly, “I am a chief.” He shook his head slightly, in resignation. “God has made me what I am. He has given me the duty—and I must do it, whatever the cost.”
“The cost,” I echoed uneasily, hearing something harsher than resignation in his voice. He looked at me, then glanced, almost off-handed, toward the foot of the bed. “My leg’s no much worse,” he said, matter-of-factly, “but it’s no better. I think ye’ll have to take it off.”
The fiery cross
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