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heavensoutofsight · 2 months ago

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i want you to see (how you look to me) - billie eilish

synopsis: you're hopelessly in love with your best friend, billie, and you're unsure if she feels the same, choosing to keep your distance -- until one fateful night in the studio where your feelings finally boil over.

word count: 3,506

tags/warnings: angst if you squint, mostly fluffy, love confessions, mutual pining, best friends to lovers

author's note: GIFT FOR YOUUUU. sorry i took so long to write something LMAO. this was very quickly proofread at 3am. any mistakes are mine! hope you enjoy :) comments/tags/reblogs are always appreciated! (credit for the divider goes to @/cafekitsune)

In the dim light of your bedroom, you scrolled through your phone's photo gallery, feeling your heart constrict at all of the pictures you had with Billie. Some were taken directly after shows, some after particular interviews, and some during a random outing the two of you decided to go on. In many of the pictures, Billie left little to no personal space, her face squished against yours and her arms completely wrapped around you. You missed the times when Billie could touch you like that and it didn't set you aflame – when it didn't make your head spin as you took in her perfume and felt her soft body underneath your hands, her ocean eyes bright and full of mirth as she looked at you.

There was no denying that there was some distance between you and Billie now. And you hated it.

You weren't sure when it happened; when you first started feeling those stupid butterflies around her. When even just the sound of her laugh made your heart soar. If somebody asked you to pinpoint the exact moment you started falling in love with your best friend, you wouldn't be able to – it was all so fuzzy and frankly you didn't think it could be attributed to a single moment anyway. It might have been that one night she slept over and you fell asleep with your head on her shoulder as she sung you to sleep. Or the time the two of you were at her place, making some vegan recipe together, playing loud music and using spoons and forks as microphones, performing for no one but yourselves and giggling profusely at Billie giving you the performance of a lifetime in the comfort of her own kitchen. Or perhaps it was the time she comforted you all night after a breakup, holding you closely and never letting go, her ring-clad hands petting you gently, as if you were made of glass.

Your heart had always belonged to Billie, long before you truly understood your feelings. And now that they were more apparent to you than ever, you simply didn't know what to do.

You knew Bille loved you just as much as you loved her. But did she feel the same fire within her whenever your hands brushed together? Did she feel those same butterflies whenever you laughed at a dumb joke or gave her a bright smile? You couldn't bear even just the thought of pouring your heart out to this woman only for the feeling to not be mutual.

You glanced at the time on your phone screen. It was late. You should've been sleeping but you were just riddled with anxiety instead, too busy imagining up a million hypothetical situations in which you would dramatically confess your feelings. You wish you had the same confidence you had in your daydreams in your real life.

You sighed, scrolling to the very last thing you had in your gallery. It was the most recent video of you and Billie, taken only a few weeks ago. The both of you were in Billie's living room. You couldn't stop the smile that tugged the corners of your lips when Billie came into view as you secretly recorded her in all of her casual glory. Her long hair was down, falling in front of her face in a way that made the breath leave your lungs. She was in an oversized t-shirt, wearing a pair of simple black shorts. She was very focused; her lips forming a pout as she stared down at the notebook in her lap, a pencil in hand.

What started as a small grin evolved into a wide, lovesick smile as you watched Billie look at the camera in the video, finally having caught on to you filming her.

“What the hell are you doing?” Past Billie had asked, a smirk slowly appearing on her face as she eyed you suspiciously. You heard yourself giggle, suddenly aiming your phone camera away from her and poorly trying to appear innocent.

“Nothing.”

“You are a fucking liar,” Billie said playfully, barely able to get the words out through her own series of chuckles.

“I'm not!” Past you exclaimed. Billie just shook her head, scrambling over to you to grab your phone, the both of you erupting into whole-hearted laughter. The last blurry frame of the video was of Billie's smiling face looking at you. You admired her perfect teeth and lips, the shape of her nose, and those damn ocean eyes, far more beautiful than any body of water you'd ever seen.

That familiar fluttery feeling returned to your stomach again.

You shut off your phone and quickly placed it on your bedside table. You rolled over in your bed, still thinking of that video. You were beginning to feel something in your chest. Your heart felt like it was constricting again. You tried to ignore, instead attempting to shift the focus of your thoughts on the weight of your blanket encompassing you, or the gentle sound of whatever random sitcom you had playing on your television for background noise; but your mind always wandered back to Billie. Her smile, her laugh, her touch.

You were deeply, madly in love with Billie Eilish, your best friend, and it was starting to drive you insane. This was not a crush, no, it was more than a crush – it was like a craving, a desire so strong it entirely consumed you.

You were so fucked.

You closed your eyes, desperately just wanting to sleep. You weren't even necessarily physically tired. Just tired of your brain going a thousand miles a minute and constantly thinking about her.

After a few long minutes of battling complete and utter restlessness, you had mentally exhausted yourself enough to the point where you were finally starting to drift off – until you heard your phone go off, which abruptly pulled you away from the brink of sleep. Normally, you would ignore it, but you recognized that notification tone. It was a tone that you specifically gave to Billie, and whenever she texted, you had to answer.

You opened your messaging app, squinting a bit at the brightness of your screen in the dark room.

heyyyy u up

i'm in the studio by myself

feeling lonely as hell

You heard the messages in her voice. You found yourself smiling again, imagining her in her little swivel chair, maybe playing a melody on the piano or strumming a tune on the guitar.

Without wasting a second, you replied.

you: of course i'm up

you: god you can't do anything without me huh?

You chuckled to yourself, watching those three little dots disappear and reappear.

billie: you are absolutely correct

billie: you just really inspire me what can i say

billie: i'm not even joking you really do

You ignored the warmth in your cheeks at her words, opting to play around some more.

you: ew

you: cheesy ass

To that, Billie replied almost instantly:

billie: shut your mouth

billie: ARE YOU COMINGGG

bille: seriously tho i know it's late but we haven't hung out in a while and i kinda miss youuuu or whateverrrr

You didn't respond right away, staring up at your plain white ceiling, releasing a sigh. Your smile faltered a bit.

She missed you. And you missed her. And even though being around her made you feel like you were gonna lose your mind, she didn't deserve to be pushed away.

“You are going to get over your feelings, starting now.” you said to yourself encouragingly, getting out of your bed to meet Billie at her place. You finally threw her a reply back.

you: i'm omw :))))))

______

You didn't knock when you finally arrived since you had the key, but you did make your presence known.

“Bil,” you shouted out. You didn't get a response, but you shrugged it off. She was probably deeply concentrated on whatever lyric or melody she was trying to create. You made your way to the studio, feeling your heart race inside of your chest. As you walked down the stairs and down a hallway, getting closer to the studio door, you felt more and more anxious.

You were going to open the door, your hand resting on the doorknob, but you froze when you heard the soft sound of humming. You leaned in closer, honing in on the gentle sound of Billie's voice, muffled and just barely audible.

“I want you to stay… til I'm in the…” She trailed off. You heard her let out a heavy sigh. That’s when you decided to make your presence known.

You slowly opened the door, quietly enough that Billie hadn’t even turned around in her chair, looking up at the large television screen in front of her, messing around with some music production software that you could never understand. You continued to stand in the doorway, watching as Billie made some small edits within the current song she seemed to be working on. She hit play after making some miniscule changes, the unfinished song softly playing out of the large speakers. As soon as the instrumental filled the room, you felt chills on every inch of your body; it sounded beautiful despite the fact that it wasn’t even done. You’d never get over how lucky you were to be able to hear the early versions of Billie’s songs – it was like being let into a secret world, and it made you feel special that you, alongside her family, got to witness every step of the process.

Eventually, the short snippet of the song had stopped, and Billie leaned back in her seat. Just from her posture you could tell that she seemed defeated, like something about the song just wasn’t right to her. She began humming again, mumbling out some lyrics here and there. You found yourself grinning as you admired Billie in her element, but then you remembered that you still hadn’t announced your presence and that you were just creepily ogling at her from the doorway. You audibly chuckled at yourself which, of course, finally grabbed Billie’s attention.

She spun around in her chair, seemingly startled at first before she realized it was you.

“Jesus Christ,” she started, her adorable laugh filling the quiet studio. “Did you just get here?”

You shook your head, heading over to the couch and making yourself comfortable. “I was standing there for a good few minutes.” You replied with a grin.

“Don't ever do that again – my heart fell into my ass.” She exclaimed, and you let out a loud cackle at that. You grabbed one of the throw pillows next to you and held it in your arms, reclining back into the familiar cushions.

“Okay, won't happen again. Maybe. No promises.” You joked, to which Bille just rolled her eyes playfully.

“Anyway, whatcha workin’ on?” You asked curiously, your eyes going back to the music software she had on the screen.

“The album, obviously.” Billie said with a smirk. Now it was your turn to roll your eyes, not being able to fight the grin tugging at the corners of your lips.

“Shut up,” you said with mirth. “Which track?”

“It's called Birds of a Feather, it's track 4. It's… pretty shit, right now.”

Your eyes widened in complete and utter bewilderment, your eyebrows shooting up to your hairline.

“Billie, what? I just heard the little snippet you played and it sounded incredible.”

“You say everything I make sounds incredible.”

“Because it's true.” You replied sincerely. To that, Billie gave you a gentle smile, looking down at her lap as if shy at the sudden praise. You felt the sensation of warmth throughout your body at just how endearing she was.

“All you do is gas me up.” Billie replied through a series of chuckles.

“Of course I'm gonna gas up my amazingly talented super star best friend,” You responded. “But… can I ask why you think it's bad?”

Billie sighed, leaning back in her chair again, twiddling her thumbs. “It's just… the lyrics are giving me a hard time. And the instrumental is missing something but I don't know what it is.”

“Can I read the lyrics?” You asked.

At that, Billie looked at you with an expression you couldn't quite read. She seemed hesitant, which was definitely unusual–she always let you read her lyrics and never felt shy about sharing stuff with you.

“Yeah, go ahead.” Bille said after a few long seconds of pondering, but you could still hear the uncertainty in her voice. Curious, your brows furrowed.

“Bil, I understand if it's something you don't wanna share with me yet–”

“No, please,” she said, quickly handing you her journal, already having opened it to the pages that contained the lyrics in question. “You can read it.”

You glanced at her expression one more time as you took the journal, and noticed that this time – she was holding back a smile, biting her bottom lip.

You were equal parts confused and eager to see what Billie seemed a little hesitant to share. You silently began reading what she had written, taking in her adorable, albeit messy handwriting. There were all kinds of scribbles on the page, certain words were crossed out. It was fascinating to you to see her thought process on the page. You loved just how deeply she thought about every word, every sentence.

Eventually, you stopped admiring her crooked letters and side notes and finally began analyzing the lyrics themselves – and when you did, you honestly wanted to cry at how lovely they were.

I want you to stay

Till I'm in the grave

Till I rot away, dead and buried

Till I'm in the casket you carry

If you go, I'm going too

‘Cause it was always you

And if I'm turning blue

Please don't save me

Nothing left to lose

Without my baby

“Billie, these are…” you paused, searching for the right words. “These are so sweet.” You said with a smile, meeting her warm blue eyes that were still trained on your face.

“Thanks.” She replied, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

As you read some more, a question had crossed your mind. Your eyes trailed off the page as you internally debated with yourself whether or not you should even ask because you were little afraid of what the answer would be.

It was clear to you these lyrics were about someone– they had to be. And the very thought of this song being about someone else in Billie's life made you feel as if there was a heavy weight in your stomach. For a second, you foolishly thought that you'd be able to overcome the feelings you had for Billie. All it took was imagining her with someone else that made those feelings rush back all at once.

You must've been quiet for longer than intended, because Billie spoke up. “Are they actually terrible? Do you hate them and you're trying to figure out how to break it to me?” Billie asked, that playful tone creeping back into her voice.

You chuckled. “They are far from terrible, Bil, it's just…”

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat.

“I was just wondering… who's it about?” You asked, feeling unreasonably nervous about her response. You don't even know why, because you had long accepted that there was a possibility she didn't like you like that. You were prepared to be heartbroken – but that didn't mean it wouldn't hurt any less.

But all Billie did was just… laugh.

“Guess.” She said, crossing her arms.

Oh, God. So there is someone else, you thought.

With a smile that didn't quite reach your eyes, you said, “How the hell am I supposed to guess? But I'm happy for you, regardless.” You said, trying to be lighthearted, but your voice dropped a bit, possibly revealing your true feelings.

“Okay, do you want a hint?”

You stared at her incredulously. “You seriously want me to guess?”

“Do you want a hint or no?” Billie asked again, ignoring your question. She was smiling widely now, and you were still feeling that pang of sadness that you couldn't quite shake, but you continued to play along anyway.

“Sure. I'll take a hint.” You said.

“Okay,” Billie started. “She's my best friend in the entire world.”

“You have a lot of best friends-”

“Girl, let me finish.” Billie said with a laugh. “She's my best friend in the entire world who's known me my entire life. She's come with me to almost every show, every interview, and has supported me through everything.”

Billie had come a little closer to you now, her tone becoming more sincere with every word.

“When I'm lonely, she comes and visits me in the studio, even when it's ridiculously late. And she always compliments me and never lets me feel bad about anything I make.”

Slowly, but surely, you were beginning to realize something. Her descriptions were becoming more and more specific. Were you being delusional?

“Billie, I… what are you saying?” You asked. Your heart pounded against your ribcage, hard enough you were sure they'd be bruised.

“Still don't know?” She asked, her voice just barely above a whisper.

You shook your head.

“Okay, I'll just tell you then.”

Billie gently cupped the side of your face. You leaned into the touch almost instantly. She was close enough that you could feel her breath on your lips.

“She's right in front of me.” She said with a grin.

You couldn't even process the sentence that just came out of her mouth, frozen in shock and disbelief.

“This song is about me?” You asked quietly, your voice breaking slightly. You felt a stinging sensation in your eyes, all of the emotion brewing within you threatening to spill.

“Do you remember the last time we hung out and you were filming me writing? I was writing this. I was writing this and thinking about you and how much I love you. I realized it as I was just… sitting there. You were laughing at some dumb meme on your phone and I just remember thinking how much I wanted you all to myself.”

You didn't realize you were crying until Billie had wiped away a tear.

“Hey, hey,” Billie said ever so softly, opting to hold both of your hands now. “Why are you crying?”

You laughed a bit through the tears, sniffling a few times before answering. “Because I… can't believe you felt this way the whole fucking time. I was going crazy, Billie.”

Billie let out a loud laugh of her own. It was your favorite sound in the world.

“Sorry. Honestly, I was trying to figure out my own feelings and how to tell you.”

“No, I'm sorry. For pushing you away.” you replied. Billie shook her head.

“Oh my god, stop. You don't have to apologize. It all worked out in the end, right?” She asked.

You smiled. “Yeah. It did.”

For several long seconds, there was a comfortable silence that stretched between the two of you. The both of you were smiling at each other, completely lost in the other's eyes. You didn't miss the way Billie's eyes glanced at your lips.

“Billie.” You spoke.

“Yeah, baby?”

The pet name made your heart soar.

“If you don't fucking kiss me right now–”

Billie didn't even let you finish your sentence, her lips colliding with your eyes in an explosion of pent up feelings and passion. She held both sides of your face in your hands, while yours snaked around her waist. You held onto her like she was gonna disappear any second and kissed her like you were starving.

The kiss started off innocent– but it quickly delved into something a bit more intense when Billie just slightly bit your lip, not enough to cause pain but enough to make you gasp. She introduced her tongue hesitantly, silently asking for your permission, which you granted without a second thought.

At some point, Billie finally got out of her swivel chair and moved to sit down on the couch with you. The two of you had pulled apart briefly for that, and when Billie was seated, her eyes were hooded and she was gazing at you like you were sex on longs. She patted her lap, and liked an obedient dog, you wasted no time crawling into her lap.

“I've dreamt about this.” You said, completely breathless and warm in the face.

“Oh, yeah?” Billie asked with a smirk that had your insides flipping upside down. “What else have you dreamt about?”

“Being able to call you mine.”

At that, Billie smiled. “That's all?”

“No, that's not all, but… I'd rather show than tell…” you trailed off, but it was obvious what you were referring to.

“We are getting out of my brother's basement, right fucking now.” Billie said.

The two of you snuck out of Finneas’ house, hand-in-hand and giggling like little kids in love.

#billie eilish fanfiction #billie eilish fic #billie eilish x reader #billie eilish x you #billie eilish #billie eilish fluff #billie eilish fanfic

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targaryenrealnessdarling · 8 months ago

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Between Fire and Stone

Daemon Targaryen/Strong!female

summary: anxious about her approaching union to Aemond, the only daughter of Rhaenyra Targaryen seeks comfort | word count: 2.8k~ | warnings: incest, reader is described with strong features, fingering, p in v sex, arranged marriage, Daemon being a cheeky cunt

A/N: idek what I was on to write this cos I'm not usually a Daemon girlie but here we are besties. Tysm @em-writes-stuff-sometimes for beta-ing 😘 appreciate you

The cold mist nipped at the skin around her ankles, a shiver running up her spine as she struggled through the jagged rock towards the Dragonmont. Her fingers brushed against the stark stone for balance, the other holding the lit torch to light her way before her in the darkness.

It was one of her favourite things, taking a stroll through Dragonstone in the hour of the wolf. Peaceful. Quiet. Something she could have all for herself. Away from the prying of her maidservants and the overbearing boisterous nature of her brothers. Though Jace, now a man grown, still held onto those immaturities.

Yet another thing that set her apart from her siblings.

For she, only a mere year younger than Jace, was considered a woman, ripe for marriage and bearing children, whereas the same hastiness was not pressured upon him. She knew her mother had never intended to bestow such responsibilities on her, but she understood, it was inevitable. As that time loomed ever closer, she found herself roaming her home more often, as if to savour the feeling of once being a child.

Where her brothers could seek adventure with their dragons once they were big enough to saddle, her egg had not hatched in her cradle. She would not inherit the birthright of the blood of Old Valyria, yet another judgement cast upon her that only inflated her sense of belonging at her mother's side. With her moonlit hair and pale lilac eyes, each of her children could not have looked more different.

Before the incident, there existed only one other soul who could truly fathom the depths of her solitude. No dragon. Ceaseless taunts. The notion of isolation, even amongst one’s family. Any semblance of camaraderie had been extinguished the day Lucerys took his eye. That defining moment when Aemond—her uncle—seized his birthright had marked the fracture in their familial bonds. In the aftermath, her mother, alongside her new husband Daemon, orchestrated a grand scheme to mend the shattered relations, a plan that involved her betrothal to him at an opportune moment.

Try as she might, she couldn't conjure the image of herself as his wife. The thought of residing in King's Landing under his roof refused to coalesce into a coherent vision. It remained an elusive spectre, haunting her thoughts with its intangible uncertainty.

Whispers of tradition and duty echoed in the hallowed halls of her childhood, spun by the gentle tongues of Septas who spoke of the sacred rites of marriage. Tales of Lords and Ladies, of the solemn exchange of vows, and the anticipated consummation on the wedding night. Some stories painted a picture of pleasure and intimacy, of unions founded on mutual desire and affection. Others whispered of duty, of sacrifices made for the sake of one's spouse, regardless of personal inclination.

Caught in the web of uncertainty, she pondered which version of Aemond awaited her, a tender partner or a distant lord, bound by duty and tradition. The unknown loomed before her like a shadow, casting doubt upon her heart and stirring a quiet fear within her soul. She knew not what to expect, but the uncertainty itself was enough to unsettle her, to sow the seeds of apprehension in her mind. And as the weight of anticipation hung heavy in the air, she couldn't help but wonder, which path would her marriage tread, and would she have the strength to endure whatever lay ahead?

Amidst the towering peaks of Dragonmont, she sought solace in the embrace of ancient flames and the soothing hum of Vermithor's slumber. Here, amidst the rugged terrain and the ever-watchful gaze of the dragons, she found a fleeting sense of peace.

But it was not the Bronze Fury that sang to her.

“Hen ñuhā elēnī:

Perzyssy vestretis,

Se gēlȳn irūdaks…

Ānogrose.”

She felt the rush of heat at the nape of her neck. Daemon stood straight, back facing her, his voice near-matching the hum of Vermithor’s deep exhales.

“It is late, Princess.” Unlike her, Daemon remained as he dressed during the day, shown when he turned to face her, with the self-satisfied smirk on his lips. “What troubles you?” he asked.

She tried to raise her chin, but her eyes betrayed the turmoil that stirred within.

“My fate,” she said, her careful steps drawing ever nearer. "I am to be wed to Aemond, but I fear what awaits me in that union.”

Daemon hummed, as if curiously amused.

She had known no father figure since Laenor. And though she knew sooner than her brothers the truth that lay beneath the careful picture her mother had forged, since she had been wed to Daemon, he had taken practice with his own daughters and become almost a father to her alike.

She felt his eyes sink over her once before returning to her eyes.

"Marriage is a weighty matter," he said. "But is it the marriage itself that troubles you, or something more?”

She did not miss the lilt to his voice. The one, that like his eyes had done many times before, made something squeeze in her gut. A fire burning bright. A feeling that brought her shame.

He was her mother's husband.

“I cannot say exactly,” she confessed. “Perhaps it is leaving Dragonstone. Mother and my brothers. And being alone in the capital with no face I recognise with trust.”

Daemon nodded almost indistinctly, his fingers reaching out to brush a lock of hair back over her shoulder, admiring her hair loose of its usual braids. His touch sent a shiver down her spine, a sensation both familiar and disconcerting. She fought to push aside the conflicting emotions that threatened to overwhelm her, the warmth of his touch conflicting with the knowledge of their complicated relationship.

"Leaving behind the familiar can indeed be a daunting prospect," Daemon acknowledged, his voice a velvet caress, “But fret not. Within you resides the same fire that fuels your mother's resolve. Embrace it. You are as much Targaryen as any of them.”

She felt a blush creeping up her cheeks at the intensity of his gaze, at the way he seemed to see straight through her defences. She knew she should be wary of his advances, of the way he danced on the edge of propriety with his words and his touch. But there was something undeniably alluring about the way he held her gaze, about the way he made her feel desired and understood.

"Thank you, Daemon," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. "Your support means more to me than you know.”

Daemon's smile was a slow, seductive curve of his lips, his eyes alight with a fire that mirrored the flames of the Dragonmont.

"Ah, but my dear Princess," he replied, his voice low and husky, "you have yet to discover the true depths of my support.”

She felt her throat close up, the feeling mirroring somewhat what happened between her thighs.

What could he possibly mean?

“Do you fear it?” he asked. “The act of consummation?”

Her cheeks flushed crimson at Daemon's bold question, his words sending a jolt of both arousal and apprehension coursing through her veins.

“It… is perfectly normal, I would think,” she answered, words failing her.

"Princess," he murmured, his voice a soothing caress against her skin. "There is no shame in feeling uncertain. It is only natural to have doubts, especially when faced with such intimate matters.”

She felt he was circling her, as dragons did their targets. And felt her heart thumping in her chest.

“With Aegon, I dare say, I would join you in your uncertainty. But Aemond, on the other hand… is a different matter entirely.”

“How so?” she asked, breathing out when he disappeared out of her line of sight, his presence at her back, fingers draping past the material of her dress.

“I am afraid he may be less… forthcoming with expressing his desires,” he purred. “He may be cold, or at least that is how it may be interpreted.” Her eyes met his with bated breath as he appeared on her opposite side, closer. “He may not be so adept with the pleasures of a female body.”

She swallowed, a chill settling on her front, her body reacting thus. He remained silent, as if daring her to say what he knew was already on the tip of her tongue. So, she took the plunge. “And…you are?”

Daemon smirked smugly, and she knew she already had her answer., “What do you think?”

Her heart raced. Her mind struggled to contemplate whether she should be honest or not, for she had heard stories and rumours. She knew she was treading dangerous waters, playing with fire in the form of her mother's husband, but there was a part of her that couldn't resist the allure of his confidence, his charm, his undeniable magnetism.

"I... I suppose I never considered such matters," she said, her voice barely above a whisper, her cheeks burning with embarrassment at the admission.

Daemon's eyes danced with amusement as he stepped closer. "Perhaps it is time you did," he murmured, fingers trailing lightly down the curve of her spine.

Her skin vibrated with anticipation as she fought to maintain her composure in the face of his overwhelming presence. She knew she should pull away, should put an end to this dangerous game they were playing, but the lure of Daemon's charm was too strong to resist.

“Mayhaps I could demonstrate and put your worries to rest,” he suggested, crossing the imaginary but daring line seemingly without fear. “Rest assured, my experience in such matters is... extensive."

Her heart pounded in her chest as she struggled to maintain her resolve, her body betraying her with every flutter of her lashes, every quickened breath. “But… you and Mother—”

Her lips clamped shut with the bruising of his grip in the softness of her waist, urging her back to the rocky, hard wall. Only now, when faced with the Rogue Prince, did she realise just how small she truly felt.

“Your mother is preoccupied with her own affairs," he replied, his voice dripping with a dangerous allure. "She won't concern herself with our little... indiscretion.”

The realisation sank in that she was alone with Daemon in the secluded confines of the Dragonmont, far removed from the prying eyes of the world. And yet, she still felt her lips go dry when he hung the torch and trailed his touch upon her skin where he was taking her skirts with it.

She could not hide her nerves, or the beating rush of arousal, “Bu—but… with Aemond, I must—”

The air felt warm as her skirt was rucked around her hips. She squeaked when his calloused fingers swept through her folds, ashamed to find she was affected by what he was doing to her as her slick coated them easily.

Daemon chuckled, a pleased hum in his chest that she was wet and ready, while his other hand busied with the laces of his breeches, “Sweet girl. When my dear nephew has his cock buried inside you on your wedding night, he will not know the difference.”

His words, combined with the tight circles he applied to the forbidden bud tucked between her legs, had white hot pleasure burning in her veins. Her lips were parted, but no sound came out. All she could do was look upon his pleased face with a hedonistic expression, feeling very much like they were doing something deliciously wrong but could find no reasonable excuse to cease.

“Do not look so surprised. I have seen the way you watch me. Are you not ashamed for looking upon your own mother’s husband with lust?”

The more he touched her, the more arousal he coaxed forth, the sound lewd and forbidden in the raw silence of the Draognmont. She could not answer his question without subjecting herself to further embarrassment. Even so, attempting to concentrate enough to form words as his two forefingers slid within her tight, hot walls, was near impossible. She gasped quietly, the feeling so foreign and yet not unpleasant. And like Daemon in any other scenario, while his motions were forceful, somewhat brutal, they were calculated, without effort. Like it came innately. Her hands found purchase on his shoulders, his digits buried deep inside curved towards him, stoking a fire at the hearth of her.

“Answer me.”

She nodded frantically. “Yes—I am ashamed—”

It was all she managed before the feeling began to crest, building and building as if she were climbing some great height and was about to tumble off. But she only exhaled shakily as Daemon withdrew his fingers from her fluttering, sensitive walls, using the moisture to lubricate himself with a careful caress of his manhood.

He chuckled at the wounded expression on her face. “No need for shame, Princess.”

She caught the glint of his ring as he wrung the fabric of her skirts in his fist. Her eyes widened as the head of his cock disappeared easily between her swollen folds, with no real full feeling until he pushed forward, both with hesitation and a sort of evil excitement.

Her back pressed against the jagged stone, her lips only parted to suck in air where it had left her lungs. It was a feeling she could describe very little, the sting of being stretched around him painful and yet once sheathed fully inside her, hips pushing against her own. Daemon wrapped his fingers around her fleshy thigh to tug her leg over his hip, a flash of white hot pleasure creeping up her spine. He only grunted, her slick ridges gripping him greedily without any effort on her part.

For a few moments, he stayed like that as if waiting for any complaint, but when he found none, began a steady rhythm, fingers creating crescent-moon shaped welts in her skin. He did not share in her reaction. He simply raised one corner of his lips in a pleased manner, watching her face, treating it very much as a lesson in pleasure more than anything else.

She could scarcely think with the violent push of his hips, the notch of his belt stabbing into her each time.

“My nephew does not deserve this perfect. little cunt.” He grunted from the effort. “Tell me, Princess—when he is fucking you with his narrow little prick, will you be thinking of this instead?”

Her eyes slipped shut, her head tipped back and fingers coming to her own mouth to muffle the lewd sound that threatened to come out. Her perceived embarrassment at her own enjoyment of this only seemed to motivate Daemon further, and he widened her hips with a soft nudge of his knee against her leg and groaned at the way she tightened around him.

“You liked that, didn't you?” He breathed against her face, looking briefly down between them to watch how he rooted himself inside her over and over, as if unable to believe this was really happening. “I bet he won't make you this wet. I doubt the little cunt will even know how to make you come.”

Her skirt fell from his hand as it drew down between them, and she resisted the urge to squeal when he began to apply pressure in tight, sure circles around her bud.

“You shall have to teach him those pleasures.”

Her fingers gripped his forearms tight as she climaxed, her tight, hot walls spasming around him uncontrollably. It was so utterly different to the way she had pleasured herself before. This time, the forbidden combination of Daemon stretching her open around him and the pleasure he coaxed from her with his fingers meant that this peak seemed to drain her entire body of energy. Her body feeling boneless in his hold, that if he let go, she would surely lose her balance.

A flash of fear cracked like lightning across her subconscious. Surely he did not intend to spill inside her?

He did not overstimulate her for much longer as he neared his own end. Rather, he savoured the feeling of her warmth sucking him in for just a few moments more before pulling out, stroking himself vigorously to completion, warm ropes of his spend coating her lower stomach.

In the quiet dead of night with only her laboured breathing to echo within it, she felt her eyes could not keep up with her mind as she glanced back up at him. His rapidly cooling seed began to dribble towards her thighs, swiftly covered by her skirts once more as Daemon lowered her clothing back into place. The reality of the dangerous and yet delicious sin she had committed with him began to rise into clarity.

Upon his fingers shone the damning proof of his sordid claim on her, pearly in the glow of torchlight. “What a waste. I’d have liked to see it dripping from you.

But that pleasure… I shall save for my nephew, sweet girl."

General Taglist: @aemondsfavouritebastard @bellstwd @blairfox04 @buckybarnesb-tch @castellomargot @hb8301 @jamespotterismydaddy @mochi-rose @natty2017 @nenelysian @risefallrise @thelittleswanao3 @theoneeyedprince @thetrueblackheart @tsujifreya @urmomsgirlfriend1 @valeskafics @valleyof-goldenlilies

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space-mango-company · 9 months ago

Text

Stranger | Chapter 1

Chapter Links: [1], [2], [3], [4], [5]

Summary: The Atreides daughter is sent off to Giedi Prime to marry the Harkonnen heir in an attempt to quell the feuding Great Houses. The bride, however, must prove her grit and earn the respect of her new family if she is to survive her new life. Perhaps she will find that she had more Harkonnen in her than she thought.

TW: none (for now)

Tags: Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x Atreides!Reader, Arranged Marriage, Eventual Smut (just not in this chapter lmao), No use of y/n, Original Characters, cannon what cannon

Word Count: 1.2k

A/N: Please bear with me, it has been ages since I've written anything and this is my first ever work of fanfiction. I've never written in the second person before so if you catch any mistakes, especially in verb tenses, please let me know. English is not my first language. Also, this might start out a bit slow but I promise things will pick up soon.

The smell of grass and the crashing waves of Caladan brought you comfort as you stood before the starship that had been rented from the Spacing Guild.

Your brother had insisted on accompanying you to Giedi Prime, but a round trip would have been unnecessarily expensive, even with the vast wealth of your Great House. Besides, it would be foolish to deliver the heir of House Atreides to the home world of their sworn enemies. It was bad enough they had to send you there.

"Give them hell," Paul teased as he hugged you goodbye.

You laughed, but you knew his smile didn't quite reach his eyes. He had faith in your strength and ferocity, but he had much less faith in the hospitality of the Harkonnens.

"I'll miss you," you pull away and try to give him a reassuring smile but you, yourself, are not so certain of your fate.

You made your way to your mother, next in line to bid you farewell.

"Remember your training." Lady Jessica held your face and planted a tender kiss on your forehead. She had already given you all the advice she could.

You take her hands in yours and kiss them. "I will," you tell her solemnly.

You finally make it to your father, whose eyes are already welling with tears.

"My darling princess," his voice cracks as he lays a hand on your cheek. The Duke may seem a stoic man to most, but those who truly knew him knew he had a big heart.

Perhaps it is because you are one of those people that you finally feel that weight in your chest that you've been dreading since the signing of your marriage pact. It will be a truly long time before you would see your family again. If you could ever see them at all.

The Duke waves at an attendant who approaches with a silver tray. Leto takes the dagger resting on it and places it in your hands. "To remind you that you will always be an Atreides, that you will always be my daughter."

You let your tears fall as you hold the gift close to your chest.

"Don't cry now," your father pulls you into a hug, hoping to hide his own tears, "or I might never let you go."

You let a laugh slip through the sobs. You knew it was already decided and it is your duty to fulfill. The Sisterhood and the Emperor himself endorsed the match. Nothing could change it now.

The harsh light of Giedi Prime's black sun assaulted your eyes as you made your way down the starship's gangplank. The stark, high-contrast black and white made everything a pain to look at. You were thankful for the veils of your travelling gowns for providing you at least some shade.

You were greeted by House Harkonnen's steward, Jaromir Naggul, and swiftly led into the imposing, Brutalist fortress of their stronghold. You were almost happy to escape the infrared outside.

"Your belongings are being sent to your new quarters as we speak," Jaromir, a lanky but stately man, informs you. "You may change out of your traveling clothes and rest there. The Baron will receive you in the throne room in the afternoon."

You note his accent and the mild contempt in his voice, as if you were an inconvenience.

"This is Iassa," he gestures to one of the servants that had been following you through the halls. "She is your assigned slave. Should you need anything, you may tell her."

The word almost knocks the breath out of you.

You eyes turn to Iassa in her pale gray robes and you give her a polite nod. She hastily curtsies in return.

You knew the Harkonnens and even the Emperor kept slaves, but you suppose it never occurred to you that you would be charged with one yourself.

"Of course," Jaromir continues, "any of the servants in the fortress will be at your command, but Iassa will be in waiting for you in particular."

"Of course," you reply coldly.

"You will be staying in the guest wing for now," Jaromir says as he shows you the door to your quarters. "Of course, until your wedding. When you will then be moved to the na-Baron's apartments."

"...of course," you repeat, grateful again for your veils that they hide your dread.

You are silent as Iassa helps you into a black gown for your audience with the baron. It is the fashionable color in the Harkonnen home world. Although there were many other 'fashionable' traits on Giedi Prime, this was the only one you felt comfortable adopting right now. The complete lack of hair in every individual you had seen was certainly unsettling, but you sensed it would be rude to speak about it.

"What is the na-Baron like?" you ask.

Iassa pauses her fastening of your dress, she swallows. "He is a fearsome warrior, my lady," she keeps her gaze averted, "handsome and popular with the people."

Her voice was shaky but she seemed genuine. You only wonder if those words hold the same implications here as they do back home.

You look over to Iassa as she fetches your shoes. It's not difficult to see that she fears you. You cannot help but feel that that is all there is. You are still an off-worlder. An Atreides no less. She harbors no respect for you.

You take care to style your hair in the fashions of Caladan, fastening a falcon-like pin at the back of your head. The symbol of your house. Perhaps it is a risky choice, to be seen as defiant by the baron should he notice, but you could already feel the black sun beginning to drain the life out of you. The thrill of quiet defiance would have to sustain you for now.

Jaromir returns in time to fetch you and you are led to the throne room.

The baron's grotesque floating body looms over you and his subjects. You had never met any of the Harkonnens before but you were sure that was him.

"Welcome to your new home, Lady Atreides," the Baron utters your last name with thinly veiled loathing. "Let me present my nephew, Feyd-Rautha."

A tall muscular young man steps forward. Stately and regal as a Harkonnen could be, he looks over you with condescending eyes.

He certainly looked like a warrior, and you could see how the people of Giedi Prime could find him handsome, but you find yourself wanting to spit in his face.

"Forgive me for not greeting you when you landed, my lady," the na-Baron bows to you. His gravelly voice sends a chill down your spine, "I was preoccupied at the time. I trust you have settled well?"

You curtsy in turn, "I'm sure my lord had important duties to attend to. I am grateful for your hospitality. My rooms are very comfortable."

"Do not find them too comfortable young lady," the Baron calls from afloat his chair, "your wedding celebrations are to begin and you will be sharing rooms with my nephew before long."

Feyd-Rautha smirks at this and you are almost willing to cast decorum aside to slap it off his face.

"Tomorrow, your groom will take part in the arena to demonstrate his prowess as a worthy husband and leader, as per the traditions of our house," the Baron announces. "I'm sure you will make a point to attend."

"I would not miss it, dear Baron."

Chapter Links: [1], [2], [3], [4], [5]

#feyd rautha #feyd rautha harkonnen #feyd rautha x reader #feyd rautha x you #feyd rautha smut #dune #dune part two #house harkonnen #house atreides #leto atreides #lady jessica #paul atreides #baron vladimir harkonnen #duke leto atreides #austin butler #jessica atreides #space-mango-company #fic: stranger

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houserautha · 8 months ago

Text

These Destined Ends

Part 2

Summary: Jessica fulfilled the wishes of the Bene Gesserits to produce a daughter. You’re now burdened with the task of not only marrying the na-Baron, but also bearing his child — the Kwisatz Haderach. Will you take your fate into your own hands? Or will it always belong to those who control you?

Pairing: Feyd-Rautha x F!Reader

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: he steps on your hand, non-consensual kissing, slapping

A/N: In which you try to stand your ground against Feyd and it just makes him horny

Palpable tension fills the room. You notice, not happily, the heavy presence of guards. As pale and unmoving as the walls, you wouldn’t have recognized them if not for the subtle hand signals from your mother. Jessica’s fingers twitched in the ancient Atreides language.

Stay on guard, she warns you. You don’t even have to look at her to know what she’s saying — you learned the secretive hand signals before you could even speak. Even just a quick flash of her fingers in your peripheral and you understand.

Will this day end in bloodshed?

The thought rags at you.

“Welcome,” the Baron finally bellows, voice thick and rasping as sand over the dunes of Arrakis. “It is truly an honor to receive you here today.”

Leto nods, ever the diplomat. You’re grateful for his lead and the prowess of his social navigational skills because, at the moment, you’re afraid that you won’t be able to speak. Not in the face of your destiny and certainly not under the severe scrutiny of your betrothed.

The Baron beckons you and your family closer and you swear that you notice Feyd-Rautha lean forward in interest.

“I trust your journey from Arrakis was well,” the Baron says.

Your skin prickles at the mention.

“Certainly. It was a smooth ride. I’m sure you’re familiar, since you’ve taken it recently,” Leto replies coolly.

The Baron snaps, “And will again soon.”

An insurmountable current of hostility perpetuates the room, not visible but impossible to not to notice. The Baron claps his hands together, the sound resonating. “But we aren’t here to discuss space travel, are we? Lady Y/N, step forward so that we may see you.”

The slightest nod of approval from Jessica. Her hand brushes yours as you pass by her.

It’s unknown to you how far you should go but you take several large steps away from your parents until you’re completely vulnerable. You hope no one is able to perceive your nervousness, or the slick state of your palms. You keep them hidden in the folds of your dress.

“Mm, lovely enough,” the Baron remarks. His repulsive gaze travels your form. Not in the way that one might appraise a mate but rather a livestock for purchase. “Excellent hips for birthing.”

You bite your tongue to stifle your retort.

From the shifting of garments behind you, you know the comment has unsettled your parents as well. Your mother warned you that the situation was delicate, that the Harkonnens would wait for the slightest aggression to attack. You do your best to maintain a comprise of neutrality, the cool indifference your mother manages to exude.

“Still an Atreides,” Rabban growls, low enough only for you, the Baron, and na-Baron to hear.

The Baron ignores this. “Well, nephew, won’t you greet your betrothed?”

A small exhale escapes you.

Feyd-Rautha lopes from his position beside the dais to stand before you. His proximity is overwhelming, the sheer size and force of his presence eclipsing all else; his lips have not loosed from their taunting smirk, an infuriating expression you wish to rid him of.

“Hello, betrothed,” he says. His voice, too, rasps against your ears, cool and unbothered.

“Hello,” is all you manage.

In a move that startles you, Feyd-Rautha unsheathes a dagger from his armored uniform. It glints dangerously in the low lighting. Although you can’t see her you hear Jessica cry out in surprise, in objection, and the guards at the perimeter of the throne room coil with anticipation. However, you keep still.

Feyd-Rautha presses the tip of the dagger lightly into your neck, below your ear. His dark gaze flickers down the column of your throat, following the trail of the blade. It’s a strangely sensual act, intimate in ways that disturb you, the fragile balance of trust and power it commands. Feyd-Rautha stops at the dip of your throat, where your heart is beating wildly, directly above the Atreides clasp.

He clicks his tongue. “You won’t be needing this.”

The Harkonnen slices at your cape faster than you can ever react — the garment flutters from your shoulders to the ground. It’s then that you realize he’s cut away the clasp and effectively stripped you of your Atreides title.

The clasp bounces against the polished floor.

Compelled by shock, by pure reflex, you bend down to grab it. Feyd-Rautha’s boot closes down on your hand before you can retrieve the clasp, slamming your palm down over it as he traps your hand against the floor. You gasp in surprise, and pain, the pressure of his booted foot clearly more demonstrative than punishing. For now.

“I told you that you won’t be needing that,” he says, exasperatedly informal. “Stand up.”

Teeth gritting, you squirm beneath his boot, trying desperately to reclaim your hand. “No!” You shout at him. “It is rightfully mine.”

He presses his boot down harder. You squeal.

“You are rightfully mine. And you will do as I say. A wife with a broken hand is still capable of fulfilling her duties.”

Shame burns your face and couples with the disgust taking root in your chest. Feyd-Rautha regards you coolly from above. If you thought you would survive the attempt, you’d snap his leg.

“Fine,” you spit out.

His smooth brow raises. “What?”

“Fine.”

“Louder,” he orders. “I want them all to hear you. Forfeit your Atreides loyalty.”

In the few seconds that you take to consider this, he pushes his entire weight down on your hand. The pain steals away all rational thought as stars appear in your vision. Your breath saws painfully in and out of your lungs. It takes all of your strength to grit out, “I forfeit my Atreides loyalty.”

A bout of protest explodes from Leto and Jessica, and the sound of their disbelief cuts you deep. You collapse onto the ground, clutching your injured hand and watch in horror as Feyd-Rautha stomps on the clasp and shatters it.

Pieces go flying.

There’s a terrible joy in the Baron’s voice: “Enough, nephew. I believe you’ve made your point.”

“That was completely unnecessary —” Leto begins. He quiets as a trio of Harkonnen guards gather not towards him, but you, weapons and lasguns trained on your crumpled form.

A memory emerges from your subconscious, an afternoon in which Leto mentioned that having a child is like having a lasgun pressed to your temple at all times.

His throat bobs with suppressed emotion.

Your parents won’t try anything if it puts you in peril. Even Jessica’s control of The Voice is useless.

“Lady Y/N is now a member of the House Harkonnen. Her husband will do with her what he sees fit,” the Baron declares. “Nephew, have you had quite enough?”

Feyd-Rautha faces his uncle. “For now.”

You tremble beside him. A heady mix of pain and anger boils beneath your skin. The Harkonnen soldiers fall back as the Baron waves a massive hand.

“Take her to her chambers. I’ve had enough.”

You protest, “No! I need to say goodbye to my family!”

A sickening smile spreads on the Baron’s face, and he holds out his arms. “We’re your family now.”

You don’t even get a final glimpse of your parents as the soldiers hoist you to your feet and corner you off from them. The roughness of the guards jostles your injured hand. “Get off me,” you growl, yanking yourself free from their grasps.

The soldiers move to contain you once more but Feyd-Rautha rasps, “Listen to your future Baronness.” You gape at him. The faint hint of a smirk returns on his face, and he steps toward you. “I’ll escort her.”

Then he grabs your injured hand as a tether.

The doors to the throne room slam shut.

Feyd-Rautha’s grip on your hand is strong, undoubtedly a reminder of his control. It takes more than a few pulls to dispatch him and, once you do, he whirls on you with a curious, almost bewildered look.

You seethe, “What is wrong with you? How dare you destroy my family pin.”

“You cannot be my wife if you have loyalties elsewhere,” he says, as if the explanation is obvious. “Your loyalties are to me and the House Harkonnen.”

“I decided where my loyalties lay,” you tell him. “And they belong to no one but myself.”

Feyd-Rautha studies you, then huffs.

“I’m being serious,” you hiss.

“I know.” He steps casually toward you, though it’s anything but. Your body tenses. “So am I.”

An indescribable feeling crashes over you, sweeping you nearly off your feet. Everything you’ve heard about him vanishes. In a move that surprises even yourself, you advance on him, close enough to see the glint of glee in his dark eyes. He’s actually enjoying this.

“You have taken everything from me,” you sneer at him. “My home. My family. My name. My future.” You inhale shakily, fighting back a sob. “But you will not take away my allegiance.”

“Do you think that I wanted this?” Feyd-Rautha asks bitterly. “And don’t pretend as if you didn’t just forfeit that allegiance. To me. Have you already forgotten?” He touches your face, much to your chagrin. He crooks one finger under your chin and raises it. “Need I remind you?”

“You’re a monster.”

Feyd-Rautha’s handsome features arrange into what you can only describe as satisfaction. “Yes I am.”

You recoil as the Harkonnen then presses his lips to yours, holding your chin in place to keep you from shying away. It’s brief, almost perfunctory in nature. A passionless, predatory claim.

He pulls away, and the subsequent sound of your slap reverberates through the empty corridor.

Feyd-Rautha clenches his jaw. Your hand stings from the strike, and you hold it at your side in anticipation of a retaliating blow. He rolls his neck. An eternity passes before he turns his attention back to you, pale cheek still reddened by your hand. It pleases you to notice it.

“We’re even now. Wife.”

Feyd-Rautha snatches your hand, which until that moment the pain had been subdued by adrenaline. You wince. He kisses your already mottling knuckles, the sensitive skin of your wrist, never pulling his eyes from yours.

You refuse to react, to acknowledge the flicker of heat ignited low in your belly.

Feyd-Rautha drops your hand then and, as if nothing had happened, turns on his booted heel and starts down the opposite direction. “Come, wife. It’s time I show you our quarters.”

Part 3

Tags:

@moonsoulk @heartarianagran @torchbearerkyle

#dune #feyd x you #feyd x reader #these destined ends #part two #feyd smut #feyd rautha #fanfic #writing #fanfic writing #writers on tumblr #oh no he's hot

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ago0112 · 4 months ago

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What I want to know - The Bear things

Really, truly, all I really want to know at the end of the day is if Carmy thought Syd was so green why open a restaurant with her? Where is her pocket notebook? What was his REAL problem with the short ribs and risotto? Why, when deciding on a uniform, base it off of hers? Why give her so much control if she's green? Why did he only tell her about his brother?

What was he going to do if Syd invited him with her to do something when he asked what she was up to? Where else was he planning to take her after Kasama? How did he get her measurements for the jacket? Wasn't it expensive? When did he decide to get it? Why did he think of her when he was having panic attack? Why is she the only one he can talk to about his feelings? And why did he scream for her when he got locked in the walkin?

Why is she the only one he actually apologizes to, IN person, and is Sincere about it? Why does he offer her a partnership? I thought she was green? Why push her into the Ever funeral? And why does he want a star so badly now?

And who does that fuckin scrunchy belong to?!

He says he doesn't have time to explain things buuuuttt he explains things to Syd.

But I guess we're not answering those things lol . We'll just bury them. And and Syd Carmy shippers see it...we have the meta and posts...but doesn't anyone else?!

I guess I'm hoping this show doesn't leave me hanging.

I might have watched S4 of the umbrella academy and spiraled. Hoping they actually answer these questions.

#the bear #the bear season 3 #sydcarmy #carmy berzatto #sydney adamu #carmy x sydney #questions #just needed to vent

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bitethedevil · 4 months ago

Note

Raphael going to a noble party of some kind, disguised as a human, in order to find and schmooze with current and potential clients. While engaging with one such individual who seems particularly taken with him, from across the room he spots Tav, for once not dressed in adventurer's gear but decorated with finery. The Hero of Baldur's Gate is so radiant that, at a glance, one could be forgiven for mistaking the mortal as an angel in disguise. However, like the cambion, Tav also has noble-born partygoers vying for their attention, asking (and more often than not being granted) a dance with the hero, and perhaps gossip of nobles approaching the hero with dowry proposals and attempts at wooing this illustrious guest begin to reach the fiend's ears.

Thank you for the prompt! <3 Super interesting. This is just Raphael being Raphael pretty much. It's not super edited so bear with me.

And to others who have also sent me prompts: I have gotten so many of them! I'm very grateful and I'll try my best to get to as many of them as I can, though I have already warned that I am pretty slow.

Revenge (SFW)

Viola Gist, an elderly member of the Gist family who had run the trade of dyes in Baldur’s Gate, was talking Raphael’s ear off in the corner of the grand ball room. Nobles from all over the city had gathered in High Hall for one of the city’s annual balls.

Raphael was dressed in his best as always and managed to fit in so well that no one ever bothered to question if he actually belonged to the nobility of Baldur’s Gate. It was an art he had perfected many centuries ago. He rarely needed an invitation to go anywhere.

It was even easier when he happened to know quite a few people there. There was not a family in the Gate that he had not dealt with at some point. The ones who knew what he was kept wonderfully quiet, for no noble wanted to confess that they had asked for the help of a devil to keep their place far above heads of the smallfolk.

In fact, Lady Gist’s late husband himself had been a client of his and his soul was currently stashed away in his House of Hope. It seemed that his wife had moved on rather quickly, with the way she was dressed and the looks she was giving Raphael.

He indulged her, of course, with his smiles and charming comments. Her soul was not worth much, but what could he say? He was a collector, and he did love the idea of having the full set. Was their son and heir as gullible as his parents, he could be tempted to swing by to get him too in a couple of years.

Viola Gist kept blathering on while he tried his best to look intensely interested in what she said. He already had her. He was sure that all she needed was the tiniest push to convince her to sign his contract. Lady Gist was interrupted by some commotion behind her. Raphael raised an eyebrow and looked to where people seemed to be gathering around something or someone.

“Oh, it’s her,” the elderly lady said with a sneer after looking over her shoulder. “Can you imagine that? She was barely even raised in the city and now that she has returned, everyone is fawning over her for her hand in marriage. Between you and me, she might have the Sashenstar name, but she is truly only a distant relative to the main family.”

“Indeed? What a shame,” Raphael said and smiled at her. “The men of Baldur’s Gate surely must have terrible taste to hunt for anything new and shiny when there is such a magnificent jewel such as yourself right in front of them.”

His flirtations worked like a charm. Lady Gist blushed and giggled like a woman at least 40 years younger than what she actually was.

“It’s kind of you to say,” she said with that shrill giggle of hers. “Furthermore, I have been raised like a lady. You would not see me traversing through the wilderness with strangers, killing creatures of any sort like some brute.”

An odd description, Raphael thought.

“A brute, you say?” he asked. “What is the lady’s name?”

Lady Gist looked like she was trying to remember.

“Oh, it’s some dreadfully simple name,” she said and looked at the floor as she was thinking. “I don’t recall. It’s that girl that saved the city, or so they say. Mav? Tav?”

Raphael’s eyes widened slightly.

“Tav?” he asked slowly. “Tav…Sashenstar?”

“Yes, her,” Lady Gist said and waved her hand in a dismissive gesture.

That was news to him. He had done so much careful digging on the adventurers back then, but the fact that the little mouse who had snubbed him of his crown was a noble had not come up.

He looked through the crowd over the Lady’s shoulder. There she was, being almost smothered by suitors, wearing a dress, looking…presentable. Raphael might not have recognized her had he not been told she was there. Her smile was strained but polite as she greeted the people around her. She was rather pretty when she was not dressed in shabby armor and her hair did not look like a rat’s nest, he thought.

He had not seen her for so long. He had of course heard about their success with defeating the Netherbrain and everything that had happened after. He also knew who the Crown of Karsus had been given to and how that had ended. Perhaps there was an opportunity here…

Tav looked over the crowd and her eyes fell on Raphael. Her eyes widened completely and the smile on her lips fell when she saw him. She immediately averted her eyes from him, acting like she never saw him. Raphael smiled widely.

“We will talk again later, Viola,” he said and kissed Lady Gist’s hand. “There is an old associate that I simply must talk to.”

Tav had almost forgotten about him amongst all the noise and all the people, particularly young men, who wanted to speak and dance with her. She was dancing with a young man who was her age. He seemed nice, but like all the others, he was dreadfully boring, and it was so painfully clear that he was trying to sell himself to her. She hated it. She hated all of it.

The music finally stopped, and she was freed from him. She smiled politely to him before curtsying. When she turned around, someone grasped around her waist and caught her hand as the next song started. She looked up and panicked. She tried to move away but Raphael’s grip on her waist was firm.

“Ah-ah, dear,” he said and began to lead the dance. “No reason to cause a scene.”

She was still staring at him with wide eyes and dug her nails into his shoulder as he lead the dance with complete ease.

“Why are you here?” she asked hurriedly with a frown while trying not to fall over her own feet.

“I am working,” he answered with a smile. “I would ask why you are here, but word travels quickly in these circles. It’s been a while, hasn’t it, dear? Does the noble life suit you?”

“I don’t need anything, and you are not getting my soul.”

Raphael chuckled deeply.

“You wound me, dear,” he said and spun her around. “Is it truly such an impossible thought that I simply wanted to hear how you were faring?”

“Yes,” she quickly answered. “I’m fine. I’m doing wonderful.”

“Splendid,” he purred with a smile. “Although…I am terribly sorry to hear about your little sweetheart. The God of Ambition, was it? At least it must be to some relief to you that one of you got what you wanted.”

She stepped down hard on Raphael’s foot. He groaned and tightened his grip on her.

“Whoops,” she said and smiled spitefully at him. “I’m still getting the hang of this dancing thing, I’m afraid.”

“Mm, yes. How clumsy of you,” he grumbled and then continued talking. “And now you are to be married to one of these fine men in here. Has anyone caught your eye?”

“You know I could just tell everyone in here what you are,” she warned.

“So no,” Raphael sighed. “Marriage…Such a dull concept, isn’t it? You have seen horrors beyond most mortal’s comprehension, beaten terrible odds, saved the world, and now you are soon to be a noble lady. Sitting pretty beside some fat patriar. Is that truly what you want?”

She looked at him with anger in her eyes. He knew the answer to his question, of course, but she was all too easy to rile up.

“I wanted him,” she confessed quietly with a frown. “That’s all I wanted.”

“And all he wanted was the crown,” Raphael said with feigned sympathy. “Now Gale Dekarios is a god of the Heavens. He got everything he wanted, and yet you lost the man you loved, and I the crown I craved for centuries. Poor us. Fate is cruel, my dear.”

She sneered at him. The song finally came to an end and Raphael let her go. He smirked at her and bowed. She headed straight for the balcony, grabbing a glass of champagne on her way. Raphael followed. She was not going to escape him so easily.

“You look stunning tonight, by the way,” she heard Raphael’s voice from behind her. “Any of these poor fools would be lucky to have you.”

She looked over her shoulder and glared at him.

“Piss off, devil,” she grumbled and took a sip of her champagne.

“I see that your dancing is not the only thing you will have to work on,” he said with a chuckle and leaned against the balcony railing beside her. “Those manners of yours are horrendous as ever. Hardly befitting of a noble lady.”

She leaned her back against the railing and looked at him with her arms crossed and a furious frown on her face.

“I know what you are doing, you know.”

“Oh? What am I doing, my dear?” Raphael asked with a wide smile at her.

“You are trying to lure me into something,” she said. “Trying to remind me of my past, what I lost, but oh you can ‘help’, isn’t that right? You can make it all go away and make me happy again, if only I sign my name on one of your contracts. So, I reiterate: Piss off.”

Someone was on their way out to the balcony. One of her suitors from the look of recognition in the young man’s eyes. Raphael snapped and made the door close and lock in his face without even looking over his shoulder.

“You have me all figured out, haven’t you?” Raphael purred. “No, Tav. I simply stumbled upon an old client who seems miserable with the way that everything has turned out. No matter how much you smile in there, you cannot convince me that this life is something you want.”

“It’s none of your concern,” she said firmly.

“Oh, but it pains me to see people like yourself drenched in so much misery,” he cooed with feigned sympathy. “And it is miserable, isn’t it? To be so close to greatness just to have it snatched away again and be forced to face the same old dreadful sense of normalcy in one’s life.”

It bothered her to no end to have him compare losing the Crown of Karsus to her losing the love of her life. She knew that a part of him was just taunting her for not making the choice of giving the Crown of Karsus to him, because things would have been different if she did. Gale would never have ascended if she had.

“We are not the same,” she said. “And I really do not need your shoulder to cry on.”

“Perish the thought. I am not pitying you. I am simply saying that we are not so different after all. We are simply…” he waved a hand as he looked for the right word. “Talking…Bonding. Isn’t that what your sort calls it?”

“Bonding?” she said and wrinkled her nose at the absurdity of his words. “Spare me your annoying sales tactics and get to the point. What do you want?”

“You,” he said casually and carefully caught her hand with his. “Not your hand in marriage, you understand, though I am sure the two of us could have an awful lot of fun together, and ambitious men do seem to be your type…”

When she did not remove her hand, Raphael smiled and snaked his other hand around her waist. He had her right where he wanted her, and his little theory had been correct: she was lonely, and she was desperate. He was almost salivating at the thought.

“I am proposing a partnership of a different sort entirely,” he purred and wrapped both of his arms around her waist. “One that can reignite that spark in your eyes and take you far away from this dull new life of yours. You won’t even have to give me your soul. You simply have to answer one little question…”

She was looking up at him with expectant eyes. She was interested and there was no doubt about it.

“What?” she asked.

“Your lover left you to pursue greater things,” Raphael stated and ran his hand slowly up and down her back. “You tried to convince him not to, but he didn’t listen to you. He left you here, all alone, forced to go back to a life you never wanted in the first place because you did not share his ambition. My question is this: do you still only want him, or is it something else you crave now? Is it love…or is it revenge you are after?”

Her breathing got slightly heavier as she thought, as if caught up in conflicting emotions.

“Revenge,” she admitted in a quiet voice after a while.

“Good,” Raphael purred with a wicked smile. “Then it is settled, is it not? I want the crown and you want revenge. You are possibly the only person he would ever let into the Heavens. We can both get what we want and let me assure you, I never forget those who helped me to power like your dear Gale did.”

“I’m not sure,” she said quietly as she looked up at him. “Gale is a god now. He might be watching over me. That could be a hindrance in your little plan.”

They were standing so close now and the way her eyes ever so briefly went to his lips did not go past him. He could easily give her a taste of that revenge she so desperately wanted, just to draw her in further.

“Indeed. He might be,” Raphael purred and smiled. “Should we give him a show then?”

Raphael pushed her further back against the railing with his body. One of his hands went to the back of her neck as he pulled her in for a kiss. She kissed him back eagerly. Her arms wrapped around his neck as she pulled him in further. It was a hungry kiss.

Raphael was no fool. He knew that it was all simply to anger her old flame, but that did not mean that he didn’t thoroughly enjoy her enthusiasm. They stopped when they heard a knock on the door to the balcony. They both looked and saw a group of nobles looking at them through the glass window.

Tav was blushing when Raphael looked back at her. He smiled and snapped his fingers to take them away to the House of Hope to further discuss their plans, away from the nobles and gods who might have been listening.

#raphael bg3 #raphael the cambion #bg3 raphael #raphael x tav #bg3

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shizuturnspages · 1 month ago

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sorry for sending in so many asks but like. i was curious abt something and wanted to know your opinion since i love how you write for these characters as yanderes. how different do you think wanderer would be different as a yandere across the different stages of his life? y'know kunikuzushi, scaramouche n then wanderer.

No worries. I love writing headcannons. This is actually a really brilliant idea, since he faces immense character development in each stage, which changes his yandere traits. I wrote this one a bit differently, so here it is:

Kunikuzushi

Kunikuzushi starts out as the discarded prototype of the Shogun, hurt and desperately trying to find meaning in a world that he’s only barely begun to understand. He’s all raw emotion, innocence, and heartbreak with a severe abandonment complex that screams vulnerability. He doesn’t fully grasp the intricacies of human relationships yet, but he knows he wants someone—anyone—who won’t leave him. And once he latches on to you, there’s no escaping his fierce, almost childlike need to keep you with him.

Yandere Traits:

❥ Kunikuzushi’s affection is intense and pure, but smothering. He doesn’t just want you close; he wants you to be his entire world, wrapping you up in a cocoon of affection that borders on suffocating. You’ll find yourself unable to take a step without him watching, constantly afraid that you’ll leave him, like everyone else has. He doesn’t mean to trap you; he just doesn’t know any other way to keep you safe.

❥ If someone else shows interest in you, Kunikuzushi feels threatened, but it’s not malicious—he just doesn’t know how to cope. His innocent jealousy leads to outbursts and childish, sulky expressions, but he means every word. “They don’t care about you like I do,” he’ll say, desperate to keep your attention. He sees anyone else as a risk, someone who might tear you away, and he’ll do anything to hold on.

❥ He’s tender one moment, distant the next, terrified that you’ll betray him but unwilling to let go. His mood shifts are sudden and emotional, going from sweet, pleading whispers to cries that you promised not to leave. It’s a constant push and pull that’ll keep you tangled in his web.

Scaramouche

Saramouche has been through hell by this stage—twice abandoned, once as Kunikuzushi and once as the Gnosis-bearing puppet. He’s hardened, cold, and driven by an insatiable need for vengeance and power. This version of him is ruthless, with a twisted sense of loyalty and a desperate need to control everything in his life. If Kunikuzushi wanted to keep you close out of fear, Scaramouche keeps you close because he refuses to lose. You’re his anchor, his prize, and his weapon all in one.

Yandere Traits:

❥ Scaramouche won’t just protect you; he’ll dominate every aspect of your life. He’s the type to make sure you have no way out, pulling strings and manipulating events so that you have no one else to rely on but him. Your freedom? That’s a privilege you lost the moment he decided you were his.

❥ Scaramouche’s jealousy is no longer innocent—it’s pure wrath. If anyone even looks at you, he’s already plotting their downfall. He’ll sneer, undermine, and even eliminate people who dare to get too close, all while reminding you that he’s the only one who’s ever truly been there for you. His rage is icy, calculated, and deadly as hell. He’ll make sure you know that he’s willing to do anything to keep you by his side.

❥ Scaramouche knows your weak points, and he’ll exploit them mercilessly. “After everything I’ve done for you, you’d betray me?” he’ll say with a dark smirk, every word designed to pull you back to him. He wants you feeling indebted, trapped in a cycle of loyalty, and unable to imagine life without him. You belong to him, and he’ll make sure you never forget it.

Wanderer

By the time he’s the Wanderer, Scaramouche has had enough time to reflect and heal—at least a little. He’s trying to rebuild himself, attempting to come to terms with his past while forging a new path. But he’s still a yandere at heart, just one with a more refined approach. His obsession with you is quieter, more subdued, but it hasn’t disappeared. Now, his love comes with subtle, unbreakable chains. He’ll make you feel safe and cherished, all while holding on to you with a grip that’s softer but just as impossible to escape.

Yandere Traits:

❥ Wanderer’s obsession with you is gentler than Scaramouche’s, but it’s still firm. He won’t go for violent confrontations; instead, he’ll weave his presence into your life so intricately that you don’t even realize how entangled you’ve become. He’s patient, kind, but he’s always there, making sure you never even think of leaving.

❥Wanderer knows he can’t control everything, but he will protect you. He’s more accepting of your independence now, but he’s always just a few steps behind, watching. He’ll let you wander, but there’s an unspoken rule—you’ll always come back to him. If you don’t, he’ll find you. Not with malice, but with that silent, unyielding devotion that reminds you he’ll never let you be alone.

❥ After everything he’s been through, Wanderer clings to you as his last connection to humanity. He’s come to understand what love is, and he won’t risk losing it again. He’s your shadow, a constant, reassuring presence who will stay with you, no matter the cost. And deep down, he knows that he’d still tear the world apart to keep you safe, even if he tells himself he’s moved on from his darker days.

Wanderer’s yandere devotion is most evident in small moments. He’ll quietly show up whenever you’re in danger, giving a small, knowing smile as he pulls you into safety. He won’t say it, but there’s a glint in his eye that tells you—he’ll never let go.

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thisgirlnamedblusy · 26 days ago

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Hallo! IT'S ME AGAINNNNN!

Okay, so I was listening to a song and daydreaming, and then boom—I came up with this idea,It might not make total sense(lmao), but here we gooooo...

So, Donna and the reader are close. They’re not exactly friends, but it’s definitely more than just “a lord and a random villager.” The catch? Donna has a girlfriend whom she genuinely loves. Every time she sees the reader, she can’t help but rave about how amazing her girlfriend is, always blabbing about her personality and how great she treats Donna.

But then, They break up over something (maybe Donna finds out that Mother Miranda sent her "girlfriend" to make her feel less lonely). Donna is heartbroken, but during one of her crises, she realizes the reader is the one who ACTUALLY cares about her. So, she gets her emotions in check and starts getting close to the reader, and they eventually start dating. Donna is OVER THE MOON because, this time, she knows someone is truly in love with her, and she turns into a total hopeless romantic. She loves the reader way more than she ever loved her ex (way more than ANYONE actually)

But here’s where it gets a bit shaky: the reader sometimes feels like she's not enough because she remember all the sweet things Donna used to say about her ex. So, the reader starts putting a ton of pressure on herself, trying to be better. Donna notices right away and makes it her mission to ensure the reader never feels that way again. (You can totally ignore this part if you’re not feeling the angst, though!)

yeah that's it.

THANK YOU SO MUCH, CUTIE! WISH YOU THE BEST! TSCHÜSS!

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

A fake love, a real love

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem! Reader

Warnings: Angst, fluff

Word count: 7,643

Summary: You loved her, but she didn't...

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

Walking to that isolated mansion might seem like an unwanted routine, something you had to do, but you didn't like. No one could blame you if you refused that usual errand, if you refused to cross that forest, those ruins, to get closer to the home where fear itself lived.

But you, a normal villager, young, happy and without much fear of everything around you, didn't see it that way. It was a normal transaction that had been common for you since you could remember. Your parents were farmers, a profession that couldn't be missing in an isolated village like that. Fruits, vegetables... everything that could feed a person was sold and grown by them.

Naturally, they weren't the only family that provided the village with food, but it was the only one who had the privilege of doing so for important people. Your father was related to a person who had long worked in the lands of the Beneviento family. That connection with one of the four noble families was what made you never lacked work.

Your parents were providers for that strange family long before you were born, like a kind of family profession that was inherited over time. You never knew the old family that lived next to a waterfall, that made dolls to brighten up the boring life of the villagers.

When you were born, they no longer existed. Misfortune had taken its toll on that Italian family. Not even your father could quite understand what exactly happened; he was only a child when Mr. and Mrs. Beneviento decided to end their life by jumping into the void.

It was the end of their existence, but not the end of their family. They left a girl too young to bear that horrible loss, a strange girl, carrier of a terrible mental illness.

No one could have guessed what would become of that girl after the death of her family. Only Josef Simon, the family gardener, and your young father were able to discover what was left in that horrible place, which then belonged to the only daughter who survived the tragedy: the young and sick Donna Beneviento.

You didn't know much about her, only what your parents talked about from time to time. Shortly after that tragedy, the Beneviento girl closed herself off even more, spending years and years completely alone.

But that was until, one day, when the young Donna apparently decided to give up, her destiny changed forever. Mother Miranda, the priestess who claimed to have the will of the Black Gods, saw something in that young woman with black hair and a horrible scar on her face.

The young Donna, barely 32 years old, became (you didn't know if voluntarily or not) one of the four Lords, the youngest of the witch's adopted children. That was too long ago, enough for your father to know something about who he was working for.

As time went by, the cold relationship with the lady of the mansion remained as a silent alliance. Serving a noble family and then, serving a Lord… It was definitely a good change for your family.

Since you were very young, you had accompanied your parents on their deliveries and, of course, you had walked the dangerous path that led to the mansion. You barely remember what your first encounters with that strange woman, with that veiled woman, dressed in black, who never, ever said a single word, were like.

You were just a little girl, and, well, the power that Lady Beneviento had, allowed her to give life to the Angie doll. You were a little girl, Angie was a doll. It was quite evident that it caught your attention.

Little by little you began to want to go to the mansion to play with the puppet, to laugh, to have fun with its irreverent attitude. Tag, hide and seek... For a girl without too many friends like you, the Angie doll began to seem like a playmate.

That silent appreciation of the lady, and Angie's playful attitude towards you was something your parents would always be grateful for. If Angie was happy, Donna was happy, if Donna was happy, you could live another day.

Of course you weren’t immortal, you didn’t have the grace of not aging, and as time went by, you grew up enough to get bored of playing with the doll. The lady, always hidden in the shadows, began to catch your attention. She was a lonely woman, a woman you didn’t know if she even noticed you.

Already in your teens, you began to show some of your slightly more daring attitude, asking questions to the lady in black, or even sharing books with her; a silent exchange that didn't seem to bother the Lord. Due to that lack of fear the lady generated in you, unlike your parents, at only 14 years old, you were the only one in charge of delivering the orders to that lost mansion.

Getting along with Donna was perhaps an exaggeration, but, unlike most of the villagers, you didn't feel uncomfortable with her presence. Her gestures were vague, and your voice and Angie's were the only ones that could be heard.

The years passed and that strange relationship you had with the lady in black mutated little by little, until, finally, you had the privilege of hearing her hoarse voice, addressing you.

Small talks, advices, personal experiences... the conversations became more complicated as you grew up, becoming a new routine that you considered pleasant.

Donna wasn’t your friend, she never was and she never would be, but your relationship certainly couldn't be limited to what it really was. You were both quite close, you had known each other for many years, and you learned to relate in a pleasant way.

At 21, you continued working for your parents. You continued walking through that dark forest, knocking on that door, talking with the lady in black.

She had lost her fear of the unknown, of that smiling girl who brought her vegetables. The trust increased enough for Lady Beneviento to do something unthinkable, uncover her face.

Your father barely remembered what her face was like, what that young, tormented girl looked like. No one had seen that woman once adopted by Miranda, no one knew what that black veil hid, no one, except you.

Beneath the black cloth there was no hideous monster, as your companions used to say or speculate. No, there was only a beautiful woman, black and shiny hair, a beautiful eye, an existing one.

You could sense why the lady in black covered herself, but you didn't quite understand it. Donna Beneviento, Lord and doll maker, wasn't a monster, and somehow, you knew that some time ago.

You tried to convince yourself, to deny the things you were starting to feel when you were with her, but you couldn't.

That strange woman who barely spoke to you, but who smiled, who laughed at your stupid comments, was no longer just a job for you. She was no longer Lady Beneviento, she was just Donna. Without being friends you were close, and, at 21 years old, with no hope of finding love, she became the involuntary target of your heart.

You couldn't help it, you were crazy about her. It didn't matter that you knew what she was capable of, that you had heard the horrible things she did in the past, those that your parents sometimes commented on. She was everything to you, the only reason that made you smile in your hard work.

Distracted, you approached the estate with your weekly order, clumsily checking that your working girl clothes were as neatly arranged as possible.

“Ahem,” you said, clearing your throat before knocking softly on the door.

“Who is it?” a squeaky voice asked, along with small footsteps on the wood.

Behind the door was not Donna, but the doll Angie, comically opening it and looking at you suspiciously.

“Hi, Angie, how are you?” you asked, crouching down pleasantly and smiling kindly at your old playmate.

“Oh, it's you,” the doll said, placing a hand on her chest. “I thought you wouldn't come, silly.”

“Of course I came, I-I'm bringing the vegetables,” you said, pointing to the boxes. “Is Donna here?”

“Um, yes,” Angie said, leaning over the boxes and picking up some vegetables. “But… she’s kind of… busy right now.”

“Oh,” you said, feeling a dagger stab your heart slowly, painfully. “T-Then I better go and…”

“No, no, don’t go,” Angie said, tugging at your dress hastily. “Stay, stay.”

“I don’t want to disturb you,” you said in a small voice, suppressing a sob.

“Nonsense, we like you being here,” the doll said, crossing her arms. “Come, come in.”

“Angie, I don’t…” you said uncertainly, picking up the boxes and entering the mansion. “W-Wait,” you said whispering when the doll closed the door and walked away from you and towards the living room.

“Hey, you two! Stop that!” Angie shrieked, causing some annoying grunts that you tried not to hear. “(Y/N) has come! Hey, silly, come here!”

Obeying without really wanting to, you walked slowly towards the voices. Just as you feared, on Donna's lap, there was a girl, one you had known for a while, who was part of your visits to the estate.

“Oh, (Y/N), I'm glad to see you,” the lady in black said with a soft voice, standing up and straightening her dress, with a kind smile.

“Hello, Donna,” you said, with a slight blush on your cheeks, looking away from the young woman who sat up, getting up from the sofa, putting on her clothes as well. “I-I'm glad too. S-Sorry to interrupt, Angie…”

“Mm, don't worry, we were just... wasting the time,” the Lord said softly, with an embarrassed smile. “Sit down, please... would you like some tea?”

“Oh, no, I don't want to disturb,” you said kindly, moving away from the overwhelming presence of the lady, from her addictive smile. “H-Hello, Anya.”

The girl nodded with a fake smile, checking that her dress, a little flashy one, was in its place.

“How are you, (Y/N)?” the young woman said, walking beside you.

“Fine,” you said dryly, looking at the floor and not at how the girl approached Donna, planting a wet kiss on one of her cheeks, causing a shy giggle that made you tremble.

“Donna, honey, I've taken up too much of your time, I'd better get home,” Anya murmured in her ear, looking at you out of the corner of her eye.

“Are you going to leave? Why don't you stay and have some tea with (Y/N) and me?” the lady asked, gently grabbing her hand, with a pleading eye.

“I'm sorry, sweetie, but I can't,” she whispered, approaching the coat rack to pick up her clothes. “Don't worry, sweetie, see you tomorrow, mm?” she said, approaching Donna again and running a hand over her chest. “I'll let you do whatever you want to me... Don...” she whispered, discreetly making you burn and kissing the lady slowly, before moving away and walking definitively towards the exit.

“Va bene,” Donna sighed, without losing sight of her girlfriend.

“Mm, don't talk to me that weird, you know I don't understand you,” Anya said, shaking her head as she opened the door.

“I'm sorry, I mean... it's okay, see you tomorrow,” the woman in black corrected, playing nervously with her hands. “Be careful, please.”

“Of course, baby,” the girl said, before throwing a kiss in the air and closing the door, disappearing, to your relief.

That girl was a bit stupid, but your opinion was clouded by spite, so you never told Donna what you thought.

Anya had been her girlfriend for some time. You still remember the pain it caused you to hear it from her lips, to hear that there was someone who had managed to make Donna fall in love, and that it wasn't you.

Donna loved her with all her heart. She did nothing but speak wonders of that young woman from the village, who appeared by chance in her life and turned it upside down. Jealousy and rage built up in your body every time you saw her approach Donna, kiss her, caress her, but you had to suffer in silence.

Confessing your love was something for which it was too late and, even if it was just a friendship, you didn’t want to lose it, you wanted to continue seeing that beautiful woman, even if her heart never belonged to you.

“She is beautiful, isn't she?” the lady murmured when her girlfriend left, biting her lip and turning shyly.

You smiled sadly, nodding and looking at your clothes, completely different from that Anya’s, from that love-stealer.

“Yes, she is,” you sighed with a fake smile, scratching the back of your neck.

“Sono pazza di lei,” Donna whispered, leaning her head towards the door.

“Yes, I see that,” you said amused, bending down to pick up the boxes and put them on the table. “Look, Donna, I brought you the vegetables you asked for.”

“Mm, let me see, (Y/N),” she said, getting a little closer to you to rummage through the boxes, carefully examining the vegetables. “Wow, those peppers look really good.”

“It's been a very good harvest,” you commented distracted by her slender hands, hands that would never caress you.

“No doubt,” Donna murmured, going back to put the vegetables. “Aspetta un attimo, I'm going to get your money.”

“Okay,” you said with a kind look, without losing sight of her, without missing a detail of her walk, the hypnotic dance of her dress.

“Thank goodness she's gone…” Angie said, suddenly getting on the table, scaring you. “That girl is a pain in the ass.”

“Why do you say that?” you asked curiously, checking the vegetables again. “She seems nice.”

“Nice? She's dumb and boring as a rock. She never wants to play with me,” the doll said, making you laugh unintentionally and shake your head. “I don't know what Donna saw in her.”

“She's beautiful,” you said with a sad voice, looking at the place where the Lord disappeared and gently closing your eyes. “Donna didn't deserve less.”

“Do you like that stupid girl?” Angie asked, making you think carefully about your answer.

“Um, well, I don't know her very well, but if she makes Donna happy…” you whispered, trying to keep your voice from breaking. “I guess I like her.”

“I don't,” Angie said, with a brusque gesture. “I don't like that girl at all, but Donna doesn't listen to me, she's completely in love with her.”

“It's good that Donna has a girlfriend she loves, she deserves it, you know as well as I do that she's been through a lot of disgraces,” you said without wanting to say it, hurting yourself.

“That's what worries me,” the doll said, getting a little closer to you. “Donna's a fool too, suddenly a pretty girl comes out of nowhere, tells her she’s in love with her and wants to be with her… and all that shit.”

“What are you implying?” you asked, now paying full attention.

“I didn't imply anything, I'm saying it clearly: I don't want that stupid girl to be Donna's girlfriend,” Angie said, with a confidential whisper, almost speaking in your ear. “I don't like Anya, there's something about her that gives me a bad feeling.”

“I'm afraid that's what Donna has chosen, you can't do anything,” you commented with a sad sigh, watching the door.

“No... but you can,” the puppet said, pointing at you. “You are her friend, aren't you?”

“Me? I-I don't know if friend is the right word but...”

“You can tell her what you think of that stupid girl, Donna will listen to you,” said the doll, jumping comically on the table.

“What? No, I'm not going to do that,” you said, shaking your head. “Donna is happy with Anya and I have no right to butt in.”

“Another boring girl,” Angie said, getting down from the table when the lady's heels began to echo on the wood. “I wish you were her girlfriend instead that fool.”

Your eyes widened at her comment, but you didn't have much time to think about it, as Donna appeared through the door, a bag of coins in her hand.

“Prego,” she whispered, giving you the bag with a tender smile, to which you nodded.

“Thanks Donna, I hope you didn't overpay me as usual,” you said amused.

She laughed and shook her head.

“Are you going to question my will, (Y/N)?” she joked, gesturing for you to follow her to the couch.

“I would never dare,” you said, putting the coins in your bag.

“Sit with me,” she said, kicking the couch. “Do you want to play chess?”

“Chess?” you asked, sitting as far away from her as possible while she pulled out an old board. “I-I don't know, I always lose.”

“Don't talk nonsense, you've beaten me more than once,” Donna said, her gaze away from yours, placing the pieces. “White or black?”

“Black. You probably play a lot with Anya…” you commented, choosing a color while the lady focused on the board, looking at you briefly and shaking her head.

“Not really,” the doll maker whispered, sitting in front of you, with a thoughtful look. “Anya says it's boring. She doesn't like to play this… kind of games.”

“Oh, well, I guess there are all kinds of tastes, right?” you asked, ignoring that information. “Let's see…”

“Certo,” Donna sighed, making her first move. “Anyway, we don't have much time to play or chat. I'm afraid that... well, she really likes... kissing me.”

You swallowed a sob, moving your piece and nodding slowly.

“I understand why,” you whispered in a terribly low voice.

“Scusi?” she asked, concentrating on your move. “Did you say something, (Y/N)?”

“No, nothing, I was just... thinking about my next move,” you lied, erratically moving another of the pieces. “I guess it's wonderful to have someone so affectionate by your side.”

“It is, of course it is,” Donna sighed, with a tender smile.

Nothing that happened that afternoon was out of the ordinary. The conversations with Donna usually traveled between unimportant experiences or... well, or compliments and words of love from the brunette to her girl.

Anya must have been the most wonderful girl in the world, or at least she was to Donna. The lady never got tired of talking about her, praising her… You might think it was almost unbearable to spend time with her just to hear about her girlfriend, but it wasn't like that. You were her only friend, or her only truly close contact, surely the only one who listened to her.

You loved Donna hopelessly. Even if her words weren't about you, they were her words, it was her voice.

Another afternoon of soft laughter, another night of dreams and fantasies about her. At some point you should realize the mistake you made by falling in love with Donna Beneviento, the delay in your confession, the theft of her heart by that beautiful girl.

Donna was crazy about her, she always told you so innocently, without knowing the damage she was doing to you, without wanting to know, perhaps.

The days passed and your visits could be summed up in chess games or comments about how fabulous Anya was. Angie's words echoed in your head.

Naturally, the Angie doll was jealous and distrustful, but the insinuation that she would prefer you to be Donna's girlfriend... You just couldn't get it out of your head.

“Thank you, Mrs. Fritz,” you said pleasantly, after doing your daily shopping in the village.

“Give my regards to your parents, dear,” the woman said, making you smile before setting off on your way back home.

You didn't live as isolated as Donna, but you had a nice walk to the orchards, a walk you always enjoyed.

“Shh, hey, Anya...” a male voice caught your attention as you walked.

Behind one of the crumbling walls of the orchards, there was a boy hiding, gesturing to a young woman who seemed to walk slowly, looking around.

You recognized her immediately: Anya, Donna's girlfriend. You weren't usually a gossipy girl, but this situation was a out of the ordinary, so you slowly camouflaged yourself in the wheat fields, behind a stone wall.

“Sergei…” Anya sighed, looking cautiously as she approached the boy. You had to quickly crouch down as they both looked in your direction.

“Has anyone followed you?” the young man asked, grabbing the girl's hands while you peeked discreetly.

“Of course not, you know I'm careful,” Anya said, letting that boy grab her waist and… kiss her, kiss her passionately.

“Shit,” you whispered, covering your mouth with your hands, blinking in bewilderment at the sight before you. It couldn't be, it just couldn't be.

“I've missed you, I thought you came back every night,” the boy said, kissing her repeatedly. “Did she trick you into staying again?”

“No, she knows I need some room and… well, thank goodness, because otherwise I wouldn't be able to see you,” Anya said, leaving you more and more confused.

“This situation is awkward, Anya, I can't stand to think what you do with… with her,” he said, with an angry gesture. “To think that you kiss her, that you… Gods, Anya, you have to end this.”

“Do you think it makes me happy to be with that nutcase? That I have another option?” Donna's girlfriend asked, crossing her arms. “You knew what the situation is.”

“I know but… maybe if you talk to Mother Miranda and…”

“I've already told you, Sergei, I would never dare to contradict her, besides, it's not difficult to fool the idiot Beneviento, we can still see each other,” she said, leaving you frozen on the ground.

“Yes, but for how long?” the boy asked, resting his hands on the shoulders of the girl, who sighed with a sad look.

“I don't know, but... I promise I'll fix it, I promise you,” she said, with a much more genuine smile than the one you had seen in the mansion as if she really... were in love with that boy, as if she didn't care about Donna.

Your trembling legs moved nervously, accidentally stepping on a dry branch, which alerted the lovers.

“You better go, Sergei, I'll call you when I'm free,” Anya said, gesturing for the boy to leave.

He did, and you stood up from your hiding place, terribly furious.

That perfect girlfriend that Donna adored was a farce, a lie. You wanted to throw yourself at her, pull her hair, yell at her for cheating on the love of your life, but you didn't dare to do it. You were just a coward, but something inside your head prevented you from letting that discovery go, and you started walking towards her.

“You,” you said, getting her attention, walking through the orchards. The girl didn't move. She just frowned at you, as if she hadn't recognized you at first.

“Hi, you're (Y/N), right?” she said with a fake smile, with a somewhat cocky pose. “How are you?”

“Great, I just found out what you're doing to Donna,” you said without wasting time, pointing at her in an unpleasant way.

“Please…” she sighed, rolling her eyes, with no intention of denying the evidence. “Are you surprised?”

“What? You're Donna's girlfriend, of course it surprises me. How dare you to cheat on her?” you said defiantly, dropping your bags on the snowy ground. “She loves you very much, did you know that?”

“Of course I know… unfortunately,” she muttered with a look of disgust. “Hey, vegetable girl, I hope you're not thinking of spilling the beans.”

“What do you expect me to do?” you asked furiously, hating that stupid girl even more. Angie was right.

“Mm, well, okay, let's talk, shall we?” she said, helping you pick up the bags from the ground and handing them to you kindly.

“There's nothing to talk about, it's all very clear,” you hissed, moving away from her, who shook her head, sighing tiredly.

“Six months ago, Mother Miranda asked me to go to church,” the girl began to tell, as if you were really listening to her. “Naturally I was willing to do whatever she asked me to do.”

“What are you talking about?” you wanted to know, stopping your steps.

“She told me that her youngest daughter, Lady Beneviento, was going through a rough patch, that she was very lonely and… well, she was afraid that she would decide to do something stupid. You and I know that Beneviento is not right in the head.”

“Don't insult her,” you growled, clenching your fists. “Don't you dare to insult her.”

“I'm just telling the truth, (Y/N), denying that she is sick would be stupid,” Anya said, with a serious expression.

“That doesn't matter, it doesn't matter at all,” you said in a low voice, looking away from Anya.

“Mother Miranda thought it would be a good idea to give her… well, some fun, I don't know if you know what I mean,” she explained with a sinister look. “Understand me, my family is poor, and I need all the appreciation of the Black Gods. At first I just had to go to Beneviento's house and have sex with her but… well, it didn't turn out as I expected.”

“How disgusting,” you said nervously, running a hand over your forehead.

“The stupid Donna fell in love with me and far from considering my work finished, Mother Miranda asked me to play along, to be with her so she wouldn't feel so terribly alone.”

“And you accepted,” you hissed, looking at her out of the corner of your eye.

Anya sighed and nodded, with a calm look.

“I assumed it was okay to play pretending to have feelings for her, surely Miranda would think that Donna would get tired of me, but… obviously she didn't,” the young woman said, lowering her gaze.

“You're stupid, Anya, you're playing with poor Donna's feelings, aren't you ashamed?” you accused, unable to believe her words.

“Poor Donna? What's so much affection for her about? You only bring her vegetables, don't you?” she asked, frowning at your revealing attitude.

“I've known Do... Lady Beneviento since I was 5 years old,” you explained, running a hand through your hair.

“I see... you know her... well,” the girl said with a sinister laugh. “Well, you should know, vegetable girl: I don't care about her. I just want to get on with my life and get away from her so I can be with my boyfriend.”

“I assumed so,” you said mockingly. “But do you know what you're doing? You're playing with her feelings, Donna loves you and...”

“I don't feel the same,” the young woman sighed, leaning against a wall. “It's very easy to judge others, isn't it? You don't understand my situation, vegetable girl. I can't do anything.”

“Of course you can, you must tell her,” you said, in a calmer tone. “She has to know the truth.”

“Wrong, silly girl,” she said, arching her eyebrows. “If I tell that nutcase that I don't love her, that it's all been a lie, I'm dead.”

“She adores you, she would never hurt you,” you said, putting a hand on her shoulder. “She loves you madly, she wouldn't dare to…”

“What are you saying? Are you saying that I should go to her house and tell her that it's all been a lie? Seriously, girl, where did you come from?”

“It's better than her finding out on her own, don't you think? If you want to get away from her so much… it must be you,” you said, without thinking too much.

“Why do you care so much about that crazy woman?” Anya asked, making you back away.

“My reasons are… only mine,” you murmured. “I don't want her to suffer.”

“You don't want her to suffer... if I didn't know that no one could feel anything for Donna, I would think that you were terribly in love with her,” Anya mocked, shaking her head.

“You're wrong,” you murmured in a dark tone. “You have to end this, Anya, for your own sake.”

“Mm, maybe I'll think about it, she's unbearable, you know?” Anya said in an unpleasant tone, moving away from the wall and passing by you. “It might not be such a bad idea, after all.”

“You are unbearable,” you growled when the girl walked away.

That conversation, that revelation fell on you like a bucket of cold water, freezing you, leaving you completely lost. You didn't feel joy or relief, only sadness for Donna. She was crazy about Anya, she would give her life for her if she asked. She was madly in love.

Breaking her heart, telling her what you had seen wasn’t in your plans, but you didn't want to go back to the mansion either, not when you knew that those kisses they gave each other were fake ones. You decided to get away for a while, just for a while, until you could forget that horrible truth and stop being tempted to reveal it.

“Honey, something's wrong,” your mother commented at dinnertime, surely looking at your sad expression. You faked a smile and shook your head.

“Mm, your mother is right, (Y/N), what is it…?”

Your father couldn't finish the question, as the phone rang to interrupt that attempt at interrogation.

“Hello,” your father said, picking up the phone, immediately moving it away from his ear, due to some loud, high-pitched screams coming out of it. “Hello? Who's speaking? Are you a little girl? Hey, listen…”

“What's wrong?” you asked, getting up from your chair and approaching slowly.

“It’s for you, (Y/N),” your father said, handing you the phone. “She must be a friend of yours.”

“A friend?” you asked, bringing it close to your ear and recognizing the screams. Angie. “Who is it?”

“Oh, it's you, thank goodness…” the doll said, with her voice distorted by a terrible cry that sounded in the distance. “(Y/N), you have to come, now.”

“Angie? What's wrong?” you asked somewhat scared, with your family looking at you with intrigue.

“There's no time to explain it to you, silly! Come, run, come! Donna is completely out of her mind!” the doll shrieked, before hanging up.

“D-Donna?” you asked, hanging up scared and looking at your family. Something had happened, something had happened to Donna.

“What's wrong, honey?” your mother asked as you ran out of the house. “(Y/N)!?”

You didn't pay attention to her calls. You just limited yourself to running without looking back. You didn't know what had happened, but Donna needed your help, and you had to give it to her.

In record time you arrived at the dimly lit mansion. The door was open and agonizing sobs echoed off the walls.

“It's about time!” Angie shouted, welcoming you and pulling your hand to guide you to the living room. “Quick!”

The sight before you shattered your heart. Donna, the lady in black, was sitting on the floor, her head between her legs, pulling at her hair as she sobbed inconsolably. All around her were traces of fury, of broken furniture. Something terrible had happened. Donna had lost her mind again.

“Donna...” you sighed, cautiously approaching the lady, who roared, cried and kicked the air without moving from the floor, muttering something you couldn't understand. “Gods, Donna, your hand,” you said when you saw her blood stained knuckles, looking at Angie sharply. “What happened?”

“Just like I told you, that whore wasn't trustworthy! She left my Donna!” the doll shrieked, approaching her owner. “My Donna is very nervous, she's having a very bad crisis, you have to help her! She doesn't listen to me anymore.”

“Anya's gone?” you asked, blinking in confusion.

“She left me!” Donna shrieked, making you look at her. “She didn't love me, she never loved me!” she screamed, pulling at her hair again, something you tried to stop.

“No, Donna, stop… don't hurt yourself,” you said, fighting against her sudden movements, against her nervous kicks. “Shh, Donna, please… I'm so sorry, darling…”

“Troietta! You bitch!” the lady shrieked, attacking you as if you were the girl who broke her heart, throwing herself at you, struggling.

“Donna, Donna, no!” Angie screamed, pushing the lady off of you with a thud.

You had to admit that you were scared, but you made a superhuman effort to stay calm, to soothe her wounded heart.

“No, darling, please stop…” you said, grabbing her shoulders, pulling her body towards yours to hug her tightly. “It's over, Donna… Shh… it's over…”

“Porca miseria!” the lady shrieked, trying to release herself from your embrace until, thanks to your strength and mental advantage in the situation, the poor lady calmed down, staying close to you, crying at your chest.

“Shh…” you whispered while, sitting on the floor, you tenderly rocked Donna, calming her down little by little. “Shh, it's over Donna… I'm here with you… calm down… that's it… very good, very good, Donna, relax with me…”

“Listen to her, Donna, she's here, (Y/N) has come to help you,” Angie said, carefully approaching your embraced bodies, the soft maternal movements with which you rocked her.

The sobs were horrible, piercing, but little by little they stopped sounding, being nothing but an agonizing lament while you rubbed her hair, keeping her head on your chest.

“Shhh, Donna…” you whispered softly, wiping her tears and moving her away from you when you saw she was feeling better.

“Mm?” the lady murmured, slowly pushing you away, her eye was red from crying and her cheek full of tears. Donna blinked confused at the sight of you, running a hand through her hair. “(Y/N)… what… what are you doing here?” she asked with a thick accent, looking at you suspiciously, disoriented.

“Angie called me a while ago, she said you had lost your mind,” you explained with a soft voice, while she got up from the floor in pain, sitting on the couch, looking at you briefly.

“I don't…” she stammered, still confused, shaking her head. “(Y/N)… I…”

“Relax, I'm here,” you said with a tender smile, sitting next to her and glancing at her hand. “Did you break a glass again? Wow, you have a serious wound, Donna…”

She looked away, embarrassed, but letting you play with her injured hand.

“You shouldn't be here,” the lady whispered with a dark voice, looking at you shyly. “I could have hurt you. I-If I lose you too, I'll...”

“You haven't,” you said, daring to run a hand over her cheek. “You won't lose me…” you whispered softly, looking at the doll again. “Angie, bring the first aid kit, please.”

Once again in silence, you healed the wound the lady had self-inflicted. The sound of the wind and slight moans of pain were the only atmosphere in that place, until the lady glanced at you out of the corner of her eye as you bandaged her hand.

“Anya left me,” Donna whispered in a sad voice, gripping the fabric of the sofa tightly. “She came this afternoon and told me that… she didn't love me.”

You looked at her, but repressed any attempt to speak.

“Mother Miranda sent her to pretend that she loved me, to make me believe that I wasn't alone,” the brunette explained, nervous, but at the same time, calm.

“I'm so sorry, Donna,” you said in a whisper, tying the bandages tightly. “I couldn't imagine that…”

“I did, I should have realized,” she said, looking away with a nervous moan. “I should have realized!”

“Shh, don't yell anymore, honey…” you whispered in a sweet voice, caressing her injured hand. “You must get over it.”

“How am I supposed to do that?” Donna asked, shaking her head. “I-It's all been a lie… She cheated on me!”

“I'm sorry,” you said with a broken voice, feeling guilty for knowing it, and not having warned her before. “I'm so sorry, Donna.”

“I must look pathetic, right?” she said with a sinister smile, panting nervously. “How pathetic is Donna, who needs you to pay her a whore so she doesn't feel so alone, because, of course, no one could ever love her.”

“Don't say that, it's not true,” you said, holding back your tears, calming the doll maker's madness with your touch. “That's a lie, do you hear me?”

“You...” she hissed, moving away from your caresses, abruptly getting up from the sofa. “Is that why you came? She also sends you!” she shrieked, pointing at you with a deranged gesture. “You're a liar! Bugiarda!”

“No, Donna, that's not true, I came to help you,” you said nervously, somewhat scared. “You are… you are…”

“What am I? A moron who doesn't deserve to be loved? Poor Donna, she needs a toy to play with and not to think about the shitty life she has, right? You whores, you're all sluts! Sluts!”

“No, Donna, you're wrong, I…” you said trembling, putting your hands in a defensive position.

“What are you doing here then?! Why are you pretending to care about me? Huh? Talk, bitch!” Donna shouted, grabbing you by the collar of your dress.

“Silly Donna, let her go!” Angie said, fearing that her fury would be launched against you. “Donna, Donna…”

“I… I care about you because… because I'm in love with you,” you said with a broken voice, stammering and preventing her hands from applying more force, from hurting you. “I love you, Donna, I've always loved you.”

“What?” she asked, frowning and letting you go immediately. “What…?”

“I'm sorry to tell you in a situation like this, but if you're going to kill me… I want you to know what I feel for you, for longer than I'd like to admit…” you said, squeezing your eyes tightly, waiting for a nightmare that never came.

Again, the silence caused the atmosphere to become tense. Donna moved away from you, looking at you with distrust, breathing with difficulty.

“It's not true, you don't…” she murmured nervously, looking at you briefly and moving confused. “It can't be true.”

“I don't care if you don't believe me, I understand that you don't, but I want, I want you to know that you are a wonderful and beautiful woman and... you can say whatever you want, but you have made me fall in love with you, Donna, what I feel for you is what you have done, being who you are. Don't think that it's not possible for someone to fall in love with you, to want to give you their heart because I... have already done it.”

Saying those last words, ensuring your confession, you slowly stood up ready to leave the mansion, to leave poor Donna alone.

“A-Aspetta, (Y/N)” Donna interrupted, before you walked out the door. “Wait, please.”

You turned slowly, scared of the consequences of your confession.

“You...” she whispered, approaching with a slow step, with her chest rising and falling quickly, with her gaze lost. “Are you telling the truth?”

“Yes, Donna,” you sighed, wiping away a tear. “I would understand if you didn't want to see me again, I'll tell my father to take care of…”

“N-No, no, wait a moment,” she said, shaking her head, grabbing your arms, very tightly, but without any intention of hurting you. “You… you've always been with me… always.”

You nodded, suppressing the trembling of your body.

“I-I remember you took care of me when I lost my mind, and how you played with Angie when you were little,” Donna said, with a distracted look, but speaking without stuttering. “You were the vegetable girl, but for me you were something else, you know?”

“A fool,” you said amused, sobbing.

“No, you… you were my only friend… you were always there when I needed you, you never cared about my appearance and… you've never abandoned me. (Y/N), is it possible that you're telling me the truth? That you really have feelings for me?”

“I would never lie to you Donna, to me you were much more than a friend or a Lord,” you whispered, looking away, noticing how her grip loosened.

“You have always understood me,” she said, getting a little closer, moving her hand erratically to your cheek. “Angie was right… I-I was so blind with… with her that… I wasn't able to see that you were the only one who was by my side.”

“I will be if you want me to be, always, Donna,” you said in a very low voice, with her too close to you.

“Don't leave, (Y/N)… stay with me,” she asked you, squeezing your hand in hers. “Let me… let me… love you as you have always deserved…”

“Donna…” you sighed, letting yourself be carried away by the gentle swaying of your bodies. “You don't love me.”

“I may not have known until now,” she whispered, coming closer, placing her lips on yours, a sensation so dreamed, so imagined, that you already knew what it was like, but not how it made you feel.

A tender, salty and slow kiss… It was a quiet, calm kiss, emphasized by her caresses, a kiss that you didn’t expect, that you wanted, even at a time like that.

In that horrible and sad way, with a doubtful but sincere confession, her relationship with that poor girl ended, and one with you began.

At first you were suspicious that her love was real. Anya was too recent and Donna was resentful. It didn't take long for you to realize that you were wrong.

Donna was romantic, sweet, understanding and tender. Being her girlfriend was the best thing that had ever happened to you, you had never felt so loved, so cherished.

It was simply impossible, it was impossible for the lady in black to treat you so well after that breakup. Happiness occupied your entire life, you even moved in with her, but doubts also haunted your mind.

Every night, after the passion, came the thoughts, the fears, those horrible memories about Anya, about the admiration Donna felt for her, the love she had for her. You didn't know what that fake relationship was like inside, but, somehow, you felt inferior to that stupid girl.

Little by little, the pressure you put on your mind took its toll on you. Your movements and attempts to surprise Donna were almost pathetic and… over time, you started to look like that stupid girl, or try to.

The doll maker had no friends, she only had you. She wouldn't talk to anyone about how much she loved you, so you would never know if you had gotten over that stupid girl in some way, and that… that was killing you.

“Come on…” you said comically, trying to fit into a tight, provocative dress, one very similar to the one her ex-girlfriend used to wear.

Maybe your doubts were stupid, but they were doubts, and you had to do everything you could to not think they were justified.

“Okay, that's it,” you said, looking at yourself in the mirror. “I-I can see everything but... well, I guess Donna will like it,” you said, finishing getting ready for a special occasion, the celebration of your 6 months together.

“Here you go, amore mio,” Donna said, serving you dinner and wine elegantly, looking at you out of the corner of her eye and making a strange expression.

“Thank you, darling,” you said with a tender smile, putting yourself in a position that clearly exaggerated your feminine attributes.

“Um, yes, um...” she said nervous and confused.

Smiles, caresses and words of love accompanied you throughout the dinner, but, after dessert, a small moment of awkwardness formed.

Normally you didn't mind Donna looking at your breasts, you even found it funny, but that look was different than other times, very different.

“Donna, are you looking at my tits?” you asked amused, encouraged by the wine. “Do you like them?”

“Y-Yes, of course, you know I love your body, (Y/N),” she said, looking away, without her usual smile.

“You don't seem to like my dress very much,” you whispered distrustfully, with a sad sigh.

“Oh, yes I... just... (Y/N), what are you wearing?” she asked finally, crossing her arms.

You looked at yourself and shrugged with an amused smile.

“It's new,” you said in a seductive voice.

“I see but... You... you don't usually wear that kind of clothes,” Donna commented, with a cold look.

“Yeah but… I thought, I thought you would like it,” you said in a fearful whisper.

“(Y/N), you're… very strange lately, you don't want to play chess, you wear… those things… it seems like something's wrong with you.”

“I'm the same as always,” you said in your defense, with a somewhat dangerous tone and look.

“No, that's not true, you've changed…” she said, shaking her head. “It seems like you're trying to be like…”

“Well, so what if I do? You loved her a lot, didn't you? I have nothing to do with her, you'll never love me that much,” you said, bringing your worries to light.

“(Y/N),” the lady sighed, getting up and approaching you while resting two fingers on your chin. “I like the way you are, do you hear me? I don't want you to be like her, I don't love her. She was stupid and she never wanted to do anything that I liked. She could never, ever compare to you, (Y/N), I've never loved anyone as much as you, only you, and always you... do you understand? I love you, you are the love of my life, you always will be.”

#donna beneviento #donna beneviento x reader #re8 donna #re8 village #oneshot #requests

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bennuofegypt · 4 months ago

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Part of the future chapter I'm working on. Any thoughts?

CH.1

Moonlight guides his path,

In shadows, vengeance takes form,

Silent sails unfurl.

Anchored in the harbor of a small town sits a ship of a respectable size. It's hull so black beings from the darklands wouldn't see it. Its mast stands just as tall and as strong as a Lorendel oak. The planks of her deck, so tight together, it might as well be a single piece. Truly, The Serenity of Grace is a ship to behold.

As the afternoon sun begins to set, Captain Magnus Blackwood sits in his cabin going over the latest report from the merchants guild. He runs his fingers through his near pitch black hair, as a soft knock comes from his door.

Before he has a chance to get up to acknowledge the welcomed interruption, a tall slender woman, a half-elf, walks in. Her skin is pale, to the point she could easily be mistaken for a ghost. Her quartz white dress doesn't do much to change that idea, only providing enough of a difference to tell where she ends and the dress begins.

“Our little friend here thought you could use more kindling for your fire.” said Eleanora in an almost joking tone. Perched on her small shoulder sat a falcon, and in her hands a stack of envelopes and papers. He usually did throw guild papers in the fire, partially to hide sensitive information from less than honest individuals, but mostly so he didn't have to look at them any more. Magnus had been receiving so many letters from the merchants guild that he had to start storing them in a box to be burned later.

As Magnus was handed the letters bearing the seal of the merchants guild, the bow of a ship with the sun in the background, the falcon flew over to him landing on his desk.

Magnus let out a sigh “financial reports from the south indicates a successful voyage, not out of the ordinary. Captain Fèlora has successfully negotiated a trade deal with the meyvarians. Captain Fargus needs help removing one of his fleet ships from a reef, that's going to cost a bit and a half.” He looked over his stack of papers again, hanging the recent additions back to Eleanora. “Another stack for the box.” He said without a second glance.

“Are you sure you've read all of it?” She says holding up one last envelope. The wide grin on her face told him she had concealed this one because she knew his attitude toward paperwork. She knew he would dismiss papers from the guild as nothing more than fuel for his fire, so this one insignificant envelope must be somewhat important after all. Her grin was never that of trickery, rather it was one of amusement and humor. If any ever happened to her, he would tear those responsible to the ground and put them in the dirt where they belong.

#writing #writers

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sinfulpanda16 · 10 months ago

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Tokyo Rev Boys on Valentines Day

Mikey, Takemitchi, Draken, Mitsuya, Baji x fem reader

Takemitchi 💛

Usually you'd be the one spoiling him with hugs, kisses, and gifts. You both love each other so much but Takemitchi feels like he loves you more than you love him so he decided today he was gonna show you how much he loves you.

So that morning he showed up to your door holding your favorite flowers, some snacks, a huge teddy bear, and lots of candy.

"Hey love. Happy Valentines Day." he says with a gummy smile. His cheeks were red, he's never done anything like this before, so he was a little nervous about your reaction.

For you though was the other way around. No one has ever done this for you, so you were really shocked but nevertheless you loved it.

"Taki, you got this all for me?" you ask. You're blushing quite a bit. This really does mean a lot to you and because no one has ever shown you this amount of love, you worried it might not actually be for you.

Takemitchi grunts, "Yes babe but can we go inside? It's all so heavy." You chuckle and let him in. You take him to your room where he puts all your gifts on your bed and before anything else can happen, you pounce into him attacking him with kisses.

You guys land on the bed and he's laughing from feeling ticklish. A playful moment between the two of you and then he goes to kiss your head, "I love you (Y/n). More than words can express." he says with a soft smile.

You return him a soft smile, "I love you too." and for the rest of the day you guys hung out in your room eating all the snacks and candy.

Mikey 💓

He would buy you a ring. He was never much about showing affection but today is an exception. You make him incredibly happy, it's a feeling he hasn't experienced since he was a young boy and meeting you made him realize that life isn't all trash.

You two come home from a date night at a restaurant. You really liked it but that wasn't Mikeys gift for you. As soon as he closed the front door behind him he picks you bridal style. Surprised you squeal and your lips meet his. He takes you upstairs were he sits you on the bed.

"Baby what's up with you?" you giggle.

He smiles softly "I got you something. It's really important."

You watch him pull out a ring, you admire it. It's beautiful and you can see an engraving in it that reads 'Yours Always'. He begins talking, "My love, this entire time you've been with me you've shown me that there can be light in my world. Before you my life has been full of darkness and negativity and I genuinely thought that there was no such thing as good." he smirks, "At least until I've met you. You're the only one that makes me truly happy and I'm so glad I fell in love with you."

You watch him get on his knee and grab your hand, "So know that I belong to you because if it were anyone else, I would still be living in full violence." He puts the ring on you and then kisses it "I love you sweetheart. Thank you."

A few tears escaped but they were happy tears. Thats all you wanted, to make your boyfriend happy. You wrap your arms around him and pull him onto you on the bed.

Draken ❤️‍🔥

He's been teaching how to ride on a motorcycle and now that you've gotten good he bought your very own bike. He couldn't have been prouder of his baby.

After spending a whole day together and gifting you chocolates and a teddy you say your gonna turn in for bed but he holds your hand to keep you from leaving.

"I have one more gift for you." he says smiling softly.

He takes you outside where you find a (f/c) motorcycle with a red ribbon on it. You gasp and ask him, "Baby is that mine?" and when he tells you yes you jump into his arms, peppering him with kisses everywhere.

You tease him, "You didn't steal it did you?"

"No I didn't steal it. I'm not that kind of guy." he says a bit irked.

You laugh and kiss his cheek, "Alright I believe you for now."

He chuckles, "So, wanna take it for a ride?" he asks with a smirk.

You nod your head eagerly and that's how you spent the last minutes of Valentines Day. Speeding down the empty highway with your lover under the starry sky.

Mitsuya 💜

He's always liked Valentine's day. Even when he was single he liked the love in the air, but now he has you to spoil on this day.

Ofc the first thing you wake up to is breakfast in bed where you'll both eat together. He will occasionally feed you and he will ask you want to do today. If you say you want to walk at the park, go to the beach, get a puppy, or go to the moon he will do it. He doesn't care he's at your service today. Even if you don't want to do anything he will still let you know how much you mean to him. If you don't to do any of the chores he will do them himself.

You decided you want to go to a cat cafe so you both get ready and head to the cat cafe.

He opens the door for you to go inside and tells you to sit at a table while he orders his and your drink for you. When he came back with your drink he got you some heart shaped cookies. You swear he can be so cute sometimes. You chat and laugh with him while playing with the cute cats.

This date has been so cute and fluffy you wanted to never forget it so you two asked a kind barista to take a picture of you guys and since then you both had that picture as your wallpaper.

Baji ❤️‍🩹

He never gave a fuck about this holiday, for the longest time he thought it was stupid. However now he has you and there something he wants to get you.

It was 3 am and he dragged you along with him to commit a back alleyway. "Baji what the hell are we doing here?" you ask clearly displeased with him.

He puts a finger on your lips and tells, "Hush baby we don't want to get caught now." Had this been during the day you would've just left, but this alleyway in the dark looks so dangerous.

He manages to unlock the door to the store he's trying to break and heads inside pulling you close to him. You both go deeper and thats when you realize you broke into a pet store.

A few days back you saw this really cute kitten with Baji and you really wanted to adopt her. However you learned just how expensive she is and had to leave her. Those past few days you've been sulking over her and Baji was getting tired of it so he decided he would help you steal it lol.

With his ski mask he grabs the kitten and hands her to you. "Alright baby lets go." he says heading straight towards the back door to his bike, you following behind him and then speed off.

When you two make it back home you lecture him saying he shouldn't steal and what not but you also love him for going that far for you. You kiss him on his cheek and he smirks, "Yeah yeah I love you too."

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juliewillruinu · 3 months ago

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Garden of Forbidden Melodies | 𝑷𝒓𝒐𝒍𝒐𝒈𝒖𝒆 | Sukuna x oc

Tw: This fanfiction will contain mature content such as smut, violence, blood, and death. There will be sensitive topics that might make many uncomfortable, so there will always be warnings at the beginning of each chapter. You have been warned. Enjoy ♡ -J.B

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴏɴᴇ, ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴛᴡᴏ, ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴛʜʀᴇᴇ...

Prologue

𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗦𝘂𝗻 dipped low on the horizon, casting warm hues across the newly tended garden—a fantastical bloom of color and fragrance, just for her. I leaned against the trunk of a nearby tree. My crimson eyes fixed on Hanabana as she sat on a stone bench, and her back turned to me. The soft wail of the biwa began to weave through the evening air, notes spiraling like silk threads.

She’s beautiful, even in her solitude. The way her fingers dance across the strings as if coaxing the world into a calmer state. How foolish the villagers were to think they could cast her aside. They claimed to fear her power, but their ignorance is truly terrifying.

Her melodies wrap around me like tendrils of smoke, pulling me away from the chaos that constantly churns within me. I should despise humanity—they are nothing but insects in my eyes, crawling about in their filth. But her... she’s different. She sings for me in ways I thought only the dead could hear. She doesn't fear my darkness; she invites it. Perhaps that’s why I linger here, darkly entranced by her beauty. It’s maddening.

Something stirs, deep in the void I thought was hollow. Is this what they call love? An attachment? It feels more primitive than that—a primal need. I want to possess her. Oh yes, it’s more than a desire; it’s a relentless hunger. To make her solely mine, to claim her spirit like I’ve claimed so much else in this cursed world.

What a paradox—this girl, this sorceress, protecting her village from the evils I embody, yet standing unyielding before my wickedness. An undeniable draw, though the depths of my heart have long since turned to stone. How amusing! I, the King of Curses, find solace in the presence of one who yearns for innocence. Such a fragile thing, yet she bears the strength to repel the invaders of the spirit world, like me.

Let her gaze linger longer at these flowers. They bend and twist in ways even I can not control their vibrant colors intended for her eyes alone. All these blossoms, nurtured by my hand, are but a mere fraction of what I would do for her. She deserves the world, but it's not something she seeks, so for now, these petals in the garden are all she allows me to give.

Soon, I’ll capture her gaze. She will see the man behind the monster, the protector hidden within the curse. I shall embrace her, entwine our spirits as one. What a juxtaposition we present—a songbird and a demon. The villagers will never understand, nor will they accept us.

Hanabana, don’t look back just yet. Let the evening dance through your hair a little longer. Let me bask in this moment before the cruel world reminds us both that such beauty can’t last.

But then the sweet contentment broke like glass underfoot, shattered by fate’s cruel hand.

The beauty turned to me. Once her deep brown eyes met mine, a warm smile stretched across her face. Yes, smile more. I won’t let anyone enjoy that look on your face. It belongs to me and me alone. Smile only for me, my songbird.

"Welcome home, Sukuna."

Now I understand—home is where you are. Come, let me embrace you. Let me hold what belongs to me. Melt in my grasp. Squirm, cry, laugh, and moan underneath me. I don’t care what you choose to do or if you choose to do them all. Just do it all for me. For we shall never part.

Not ever.

The beauty placed her instrument down before standing up and began to walk towards me. She was careful for her sandal to not crush the flowers and to remain on the stone path. Her figure is alluring. It's something only I've ever seen. As it should be. She seduces me with the way she pushes her hair to the side, revealing part of her neck. Her eyes are gleaming with excitement, and her pace quickens the closer she gets to me. Once she's in front of me, my hand wraps around her waist and arms wrap around my neck. Her eyes fluttered close, and her face came close to mine. Her lips must have been cold without mine.

Ah, I shall devour this woman slowly.

Special thanks to @sweetlandspos for allowing me to use her art for the cover of my book. You can also read it on Wattpad. My account is apocalypsesupremacy.

#sukuna #sukuna x oc #sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #sukuna x y/n #sukuna ryomen #sukuna ryoumen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #dark romance #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #wattpad fanfiction #jjk #jjk x reader #uruame

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allwaswell16 · 11 months ago

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A fic rec of angsty omegaverse One Direction fics as requested in this ask. If you enjoy the fics, please leave the writers kudos and comments! You can find my other fic recs here. Happy reading!

— Louis/Harry —

💔 Light, Spark and Fire (series) by green_feelings / @greenfeelings

(M, E, 239k, Louis/Harry, Zayn/Liam) Louis and Zayn run a music label, Liam is Britain’s up-and-coming pop star, Harry’s working on taking Louis’ walls down until he builds his own up, and Niall holds them all together without realising he does.

💔 Saving Symphony Hall by @helloamhere

(E, 124k, hurt/comfort) “That’s the attitude,” said Louis, “I’ll tell you tomorrow. Tonight, I need to do some research. Zayn, give me your number. I’m gonna save our symphony.”

💔 Strawberries & Cigarettes by dimpled_halo / @comebackassholes

(E, 76k, exes) Two stories, eleven years, and the two boys that never stopped loving each other.

💔 These High Walls by LarryAlways28

(E, 68k, musician Louis) Harry was raised exactly as a Styles heir should be: sharp as a tack, witty, charming, and powerful. He was the ideal son - until he presented as an Omega.

💔 Maybe You’ll Like the Way I Am by @lululawrence

(NR, 55k, accidental bonding) When Louis’ alpha neighbor asks him to pretend to be his omega for a week, Louis immediately says no.

💔 Your Gift is Wasted On Me by therogueskimo / @bravetemptation

(NR, 54k, neighbors) Omega Louis has severe touch deprivation and is averse to touch. But he’s fine. Really.

💔 Bear with me by 28sunflowers / @vintageumbroshirt

(E, 46k, omega/omega) But try as they might, the one fact that remains true is that children don’t save broken relationships. Sometimes things just aren’t meant to be.

💔 Wild Hearts Run Free by jacaranda_bloom / @jacaranda-bloom

(E, 42k, secrets) When fate and Mother Nature conspire to trap the two strangers together, will Harry’s worst fears be proven, or will Louis find a way to break down his walls and lead him into the light?

💔 Canyon Moon by delsicle / @eeveedel

(E, 40k, Lion King au) For as long as Louis has remembered, he has been promised to be mated to Harry, his best friend and the future pack alpha. But Louis’s heart belonged to the forest and to the hunt more than he could ever imagine it belonging to Harry.

💔 Follow Your Arrow by LadyAJ_13 / @ladyaj-13

(T, 36k, canon) They said Louis playing alpha wouldn’t affect anything. It was the best thing for the band, so he doesn’t really regret it except deep in the dead of night, when he bites down on his knuckles to swap the echoing ache of depri for a sting of pain.

💔 Too Young To Know by @2tiedships2

(M, 35k, exes to lovers) the one where Harry doesn’t present as an alpha… until he does.

💔 Compass to my Soul by LadyLondonderry / @londonfoginacup

(T, 31k, canon) Louis Tomlinson, omega, is 1/5 of world famous boy band One Direction. He spends his time hoping his bandmates don’t notice him.

💔 where the lights are beautiful by twoshipsdrifting / @polkadotlou

(E, 31k, accidental bonding) If that had been his life, his goal, Louis would feel pretty good about himself now. As it is…Louis feels like shit.

💔 Sisterwives by @jaerie

(E, 32k, omega/omega) Louis thinks he's getting everything he's ever dreamed of. Harry helps him find what makes him truly happy.

💔 Compete Against the Stars by amomentoflove / @daggerandrose

(M, 30k, uni) An A/B/O au where Louis finds out he's claimed to another Alpha. Angst ensues.

💔 The Risen (series) by @creamcoffeelou

(E, 28k, cult au) In search of the next breaking story, Harry goes off to do something no one else has been able to do: get the scoop on Louis Tomlinson and his devoted group of followers.

💔 tread lightly on my ground by fairytalelights / @lookslikefairytale

(E, 20k, mpreg) the one where Harry is having Louis’ baby, but Louis doesn’t know it’s his

💔 Keep Me Closer by zanni_scaramouche / @zanniscaramouche

(T, 18k, uni) Louis expects Harry to react poorly, maybe even file a formal complaint and that’s gonna suck ass but Louis won’t say shit cause he knows he deserves it, so he prepares an apology before Harry’s even turned around.

💔 No Easy Love (Could Make Me Feel This Way) by @allwaswell16

(E, 17k, exes) an Alpha Louis/Alpha Harry au where they get a second chance to make things right with the love of their life.

💔 With love comes strange currencies by mediaville

(E, 16k, canon) They're Accidentally Mated and Dealing With It Rather Badly.

💔 Him & I by @notasawrap

(NR, 8k, mpreg) Louis thinks Harry has a lover and he's willing to let's Harry go to be happy with someone else even if it hurts the three of them.

💔 A Silver Lining In A Storm (You Were Lightning, I Was Born) by @fallinglikethis

(E, 6k, arranged marriage) Omega Prince Harry had always known that he was going to have an arranged marriage. But after the death of his first fiancé, a man who turned out far worse than Harry thought possible, his subsequent marriage to the man's brother leaves Harry finding it difficult to trust that everything will work out.

💔 lucky once, could be lucky again by @jaerie

(E, 2k, famous/not famous) Louis has been letting the rich and famous knot him for cash since he found himself walking out on the lavish lifestyle of his rockstar future mate.

— Rare Pairs —

💔 Pride by iwanttowriteyouafic

(E, 86k, Zayn/Liam) the one where Zayn and Liam strike a deal to help each other through their dirtiest nights, but Zayn's perception of alphas may be preventing him from something purer

#ficrec #omegaverse #1dficvillage #hltracks #trackinghappily #trackinghome

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bupia · 1 year ago

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Serendipity: Chapter 1 - Papa Emeritus IV x Fem!Reader

Summary: On a Halloween night, you, along with Terzo and his family, head to the Ministry for an annual ball to celebrate this beloved day. On this occasion, you have the chance to meet Terzo's brothers, whom you've heard about for so long: Primo, Secondo, and most notably, the current Papa Emeritus, Copia.

Words: 7.811

A/N: Happy Halloween! After 30 days of The Ministry Kinktober, I thought it'd be fun to start a new series with Copia, this time casting him in the role of Papa Emeritus IV. I hope you all find it enjoyable.

Available on AO3

Chapter 2

Day 1: The Halloween ball.

Not too long ago, you had taken on the role of a nanny for Terzo's family, a job that might have seemed traditional but had turned into something quite extraordinary. It was a simple job, as you saw it, but it held a unique charm. You didn't need what people would call a "proper job." You had found an opportunity and embraced it with open arms.

Your life with Terzo, Angèle, and little Andras had begun when you first met them. The revelation that a Papa could marry and have children had initially surprised you, but as the months passed, you grew to understand why.

Terzo, was the former Papa Emeritus III, he had retired from his role but retained his title, akin to a seasoned veteran who continued to bear the honor of his past. He belonged to a unique religious group, far from the conventional churches that prayed to God and Saints. It was a Satanic Ministry.

Terzo had been apprehensive that you would run away upon learning the truth, but why would you? You saw no harm in their beliefs, and they were a joyful, healthy, and loving family. It was just one more facet of their lives, like an extra spice that enhanced the flavor of your experience, which may not have made much sense to outsiders, but to you, it was just an intriguing facet of their lives. You wouldn't judge them for it.

Over time, you had naturally learned more about their religion, not because they imposed it on you, but because you had an open mind and a willingness to listen. They always made sure you were comfortable with the information they shared, never pushing you into anything that might make you uncomfortable. However, what had truly piqued your interest was when you heard about the existence of Ghouls, and your excitement had reached peak levels when you finally met Dewdrop, one of the oldest Ghouls of the Ministry.

As you became closer to the family, Angèle shared pictures of their life in the Ministry, including images of Terzo's brothers. Primo, the eldest, had a commanding presence during his time as a Papa, but Angèle assured you he was a kind soul. Secondo, just three months older than Terzo, always wore an intimidating frown and had an impeccable sense of style.

And then, there was Copia, the current Papa Emeritus of the ministry and the new leader of Ghost. From the pictures Angèle showed you, Copia seemed to have it all. His handsome features and warm smile made your heart race, and the sight of him holding little Andras in a nursery photo nearly brought you to tears; it was the cutest thing you had ever seen.

But, circling back to the present, tonight was Halloween night, and you, Terzo, Angèle, and Andras were en route to the Ministry, all dressed in your costumes. The creative family had chosen to embody the Addams Family, while you, wanting to fit in somehow, had opted for a nun costume. In hindsight, it might not have been the best choice for a gathering at a satanic Ministry, but it was too late to change now.

As you got closer to the ministry, a wave of apprehension washed over you. You had grown accustomed to Terzo's family and their satanic customs, but tonight was different, and you weren't entirely sure what to expect, especially in the company of his brothers. In your heart, you knew your role was that of a nanny and nothing more. Yet, a part of you yearned to connect with the people you would meet tonight, especially since Terzo would be spending a week within the Ministry starting by today. He had explained that this was an opportunity to address some important matters with the clergy and to provide guidance to his brother, Copia, in his new role, alongside Primo and Secondo.

Also, you couldn't deny that you were feeling a bit nervous about meeting Copia in person. You hoped he lived up to the handsome figure he cut in the pictures Angèle had shared with you.

"We are almost there, Papa," Dewdrop's voice snapped you out of your thoughts, and you blinked, refocusing your attention on the road ahead. You glanced at the rearview mirror, where you could see Andras peacefully asleep in Angèle's arms. Terzo sat beside her, his hand resting gently on her leg. It was unusual for Terzo not to be the one behind the wheel, but tonight, given the formal nature of the ministry's event, Dewdrop had been assigned to chauffeur you all in one of the ministry's official cars.

A smile tugged at your lips as you admired the loving scene before you. Then, you turned your gaze to the Ghoul seated right beside you. "You didn't want to put on a costume for today, Dewdrop?" you asked playfully.

Dewdrop chuckled and replied, "I don't think I need one."

You couldn't help but giggle at his response. "Well, that's true. You are already in the Halloween spirit every day. I thought you would have convinced him to dress up as Lurch," you said as you turned your face to Terzo.

Terzo rolled his eyes in mock exasperation. "Ho tentato," he said with a grin, "but he refused. Apparently, driving a car for us today is already pushing the boundaries of his Ghoul image."

Dewdrop nodded with a smirk. "I have to maintain my Ghoul dignity, Papa."

As the car made a slight turn, you laid eyes on an old building that resembled a church. It bore a striking resemblance to the other churches you had seen before, but there was something uniquely captivating about it. The building was grand, situated on a sprawling piece of land adorned with a beautiful garden. It left you in awe, and your eyes sparkled with amazement as you took in the sight.

The car continued its way until it came to a stop in front of the large building. A group of Ghouls, more than you were accustomed to, had gathered by the entrance and swiftly approached the car. This was the first time you had seen so many of them at once; you were typically only in the company of Dewdrop.

"We are here," Dewdrop announced.

"Grazie, Dewdrop, for bringing us here today."

The Ghouls opened the car doors for Terzo and Angèle, who wasted no time in stepping out. However, you remained seated inside, gazing forward. Dewdrop reached out and gently touched your arm.

"Is something wrong?" he inquired.

You shook your head. "No, I'm just a little nervous, I guess."

Dewdrop reassured you with a warm smile. "There's no need to be nervous. Everything will be fine. Come with me, and you'll be fine."

He opened his door, then walked to your side, opening your door as well. You took Andra's bag and stepped out, and he closed the door behind you. Dewdrop offered you his arm, and you took it gratefully, feeling a sense of comfort in his presence.

Glancing over at Terzo and Angèle, who were already waiting by the front door, you and Dewdrop made your way to join them. Two of the Ghouls opened the grand entrance, allowing Terzo to enter first, followed by Angèle, who held Andras in her arms. You followed closely behind them, hand in arm with Dewdrop, taking in the vastness of the ministry. It exceeded your expectations in size and grandeur. The Halloween decorations added a whimsical touch to the solemn atmosphere, and the faint strains of music drifted to your ears from a distance. A sense of excitement and anticipation bubbled within you as you stepped further into the ministry, eager to immerse yourself in the evening's festivities.

"Dear," Angèle's voice reached your ear as you walked alongside Dewdrop.

"Yes, miss?" you responded, instinctively using a formal title.

"I already told you, you can call me by my name," Angèle chided gently. "Can you hold him for me?"

"I'm sorry, mi- Angèle," you corrected yourself and reached out to take Andras into your arms, handling him with care.

Terzo flashed you a warm smile, and they continued to make their way toward the music. You returned to Dewdrop's side, walking alongside him as the music grew louder, guiding you to a room with its doors wide open. A Ghoul approached and led the way, with Terzo and Angèle following closely behind.

"Papa Emeritus III, Terzo, and his beloved wife, Angèle, have arrived," the Ghoul announced at the door.

Terzo and Angèle entered the room, and you and Dewdrop followed suit. The sight that greeted you was nothing short of incredible. The room was filled with people, dancing, conversing, and enjoying themselves to the fullest. The colorful lights on the ceiling illuminated the space in a mesmerizing display. Halloween decorations adorned the room, and the lively disco music filled the air, creating an atmosphere that was positively infectious.

Dewdrop turned to you, placing his hand on your shoulder. "So, what do you think of all this?"

You couldn't contain your excitement as you looked around, taking in the grandeur of the event. "It's stunning! The ball is so grand, and there are so many people... I don't have words to describe it."

Dewdrop reached out and gently placed a hand on your lower back, leaning in closer to your ear. "I need to leave you now. I have to be around the ministry with the other Ghouls. Promise me you'll have fun, okay?"

You nodded, smiling at Dewdrop as he departed the room to attend to his duties. Your attention turned to Terzo and Angèle, who had moved farther away from you. Adjusting Andras in your arms as he began to wake up, you smiled down at the little one.

"Hello there, little one," you cooed, gently brushing your fingers across Andras's soft cheek. He responded with a radiant smile, accompanied by a symphony of baby sounds.

You made your way over to Terzo and his wife, who were standing near one of the tables adorned with a small paper sign that read "Papas." As you approached, someone came up behind you, and Terzo turned to face the newcomer.

"Fratello!" Terzo exclaimed, opening his arms and walking toward the person. "Where is your costume?"

Turning to see who it was, you found Secondo, one of Terzo's brothers, dressed in a very elegant dark green suit that emphasized all the curves and lines of his body, impeccably tailored to perfection. He exuded an air of sophistication and confidence. As he approached Terzo, they embraced warmly, and you couldn't help but notice how well Secondo carried himself in his stylish attire.

"I can't believe you didn't wear the costume I told you to," Terzo playfully chided as they pulled away.

"Terzo, I was not going to be Uncle Fester just because you asked me to," Secondo replied with a sigh.

"Why not, fratello? It would have been fun!" Terzo countered, clearly amused.

"Sì, for you, only," Secondo replied with a resigned tone. He then looked around and laid his eyes on you. "Oh, here he is! And who is this, signora?"

"She is our nanny," Angèle chimed in, going to your side and placing her hand on your back.

"It's nice to meet you formally, Papa," you said, extending your hand toward him, and he gallantly kissed the back of it.

"Il piacere è tutto mi," he replied with a charming smile, still holding your hand.

"Terzo!" another voice called from behind you, and you turned to see who it was.

"Primo!" Terzo exclaimed with a chuckle. "Fratello, hai lo spirito di Halloween! Sapevo che non mi avresti deluso!"

Indeed, Primo was dressed as Uncle Fester, and you couldn't help but stifle a giggle. He approached your group and hugged Terzo, just as Secondo had done earlier.

"See, fratello?" Terzo said, glancing at Secondo. "Primo has the Halloween spirit!"

"So you basically asked for the two of us to dress as Uncle Fester because you knew one of us would come as it?" Secondo asked, sounding somewhat annoyed.

"One of you was bound to do it," Terzo replied teasingly.

"Cretino," Secondo muttered in a sharp tone, shaking his head in mock disapproval.

"Secondo," Primo said with a disapproving look, then turned his gaze to you. "And who is this bella signora?"

"This is Andra's nanny, fratello," Terzo clarified.

Primo approached you with a warm smile. "Nice to meet you, bella," he said gently. "And it seems our piccolo demone is awake."

You smiled and nodded. "Nice to meet you too, Papa. And yes, Andras is quite awake and lively right now."

Primo extended his arms, and you handed Andras over to him. "Ciao piccolo," he greeted with a smile. "Il tuo zio preferito ti ha fatto mancare, mio piccolo demone."

"Zio preferito? You wish, fratello," Secondo chimed in as he approached Primo. He extended his hand toward Andras, who eagerly clasped one of his fingers with his tiny hand, letting out a sweet giggle. "See? He knows who his zio prefereito is. He's even smiling at me."

"Smiling at you?" Primo countered with playful banter. "The bambino is laughing at you."

The brothers exchanged amused glances, their competitive spirit lightening the mood as Andras enjoyed their attention. You briefly averted your eyes to take in the lively atmosphere of the Halloween ball. The joyous spirit in the room was infectious, and you couldn't help but feel like you belonged there.

"Where is Copia?" Angèle inquired.

As you heard his name, your attention snapped back to the conversation. Angèle now had Andras in her arms, and Terzo was pulling out a chair for her to sit next to him. Secondo and Primo were already seated, and you quickly made your way to sit beside Angèle, hanging Andra's bag on the chair.

"He's somewhere around, we haven't seen him since we got here," Secondo replied.

You listened attentively, feeling a bit disappointed. Would you not have the chance to meet Copia tonight? Was he not going to attend the Halloween ball? You consoled yourself with the thought that you would likely encounter him during your stay at the ministry.

Suddenly, someone approached you from the side, and you let out a loud scream of horror, causing Andras to start crying. The person was covered with a white sheet, and your eyes widened in terror as you clutched your chest, breathing heavily.

The person quickly removed the sheet, revealing Copia beneath it. "Ti ho spaventato? Mi dispiace, non era mia intenzione!"

Angèle got up from her seat with Andras still crying in her arms. You got up and rushed over to Angèle, who was trying to soothe the upset little one in her arms. You rushed to Andras' bag, located on your chair, and quickly retrieved his favorite plushie. Returning to Angèle, you presented it to Andras, attempting to comfort him, but it appeared to have little effect on his persistent crying.

Copia expressed his apologies, feeling genuinely remorseful for causing the commotion. "What have I done?" he said, addressing his brothers and Angèle.

"It's totally okay, it wasn't your fault," you reassured him, taking Andras into your arms.

"Terzo, please, give me his pacifier. It's in your blazer's pocket," Angèle requested.

Terzo promptly got up and retrieved the pacifier from his pocket, handing it to Angèle. She gently placed the pacifier in Andras' mouth, successfully calming him down. She then took him back into her arms, also reaching for Andra's bag, hanging on your chair.

"I'm going to step outside with him for a bit," Angèle announced. "I'll be right back."

As Angèle left the room with Andras, you took a deep breath, still feeling a bit overwhelmed by the sudden scare. A hand on your back sent shivers down your spine, and you turned to see Copia standing beside you. You turned your face to find Copia standing there, and for a moment, you were rendered speechless. He was even more striking in person, and you couldn't help but admire his presence. His voice was as charming as his appearance, and you felt a mix of excitement and nervousness in his presence.

"Are you okay?" he inquired, his concern evident in his voice.

In silence, you nodded, unable to find your voice as you continued to gaze at his captivating features. A smile graced his lips, and his hand gently squeezed your arm in a reassuring gesture.

"Bene, molto bene," he said, withdrawing his hand from your arm.

Copia offered a gentle smile, causing your cheeks to flush. He approached the table and pulled out your chair, signaling for you to sit down. You walked over to your chair and gracefully took your seat. Copia joined you, sitting right beside you, while Secondo audibly sighed and shook his head in response to the earlier playful banter.

"Secondo, non cominciare neanche," Primo warned him.

"Non stavo per dire niente," Secondo replied with a faint smirk.

Copia offered his sincere apologies. "Mi dispiace profondamente. I didn't mean to scare the signora, and I certainly didn't intend to frighten my own nipote."

"It's okay; it was my fault. I wasn't expecting it," you reassured him in a gentle tone.

Terzo chimed in with a bit of humor, "Please don't kill our nanny. She's the only one who's stayed with us. You have no idea how hard it is to find a nanny when you tell them about being a retired satanic Papa."

Copia turned his body toward you, placing his hand on your shoulder. "Again, mi dispiace profondamente. I didn't mean to... you know... kill you."

You chuckled nervously. "I hope... not?"

"No, I didn't mean to say it that way," he stammered. "I- I mean, I meant that I didn't want to scare you with my costume to the point where you'd... well, you know."

"Forse sarebbe meglio se smettessi di giustificarti, fratello," Secondo chimed in.

Your hand went to Copia's on your shoulder, and you held it delicately as you looked at him. "Papa, it's okay. I know you didn't mean it, and I know you don't want to, you know, kill me, even though you're a very scary ghost, right?"

"Oh!" he exclaimed, blushing slightly. "Sì, sì, I'm a scary ghost! Be careful, bella... sorella!" he said, straightening his body and trying to sound scary.

You made a frightened face and playfully let go of his hand. "Please, Papa, have mercy on me. I'm just a..." you furrowed your brows. "What did you call me again?"

"Sorella," he repeated, clarifying, "It's how we call the sisters, nuns, just like you tonight, in Italian."

You nodded and resumed your scary expression. "Please, Papa, I'm just a sorella today. I'm innocent!" you said, your tone with a hint like if you were truly scared by him.

Copia chuckled, his eyes never leaving yours. "I'm going to have mercy today and not go after you to haunt you, but only this time."

"Oh, don't worry, Papa. You can come after me if you want," you said, leaning back in your chair.

Copia gasped, blushing deeply, and your eyes widened as you realized what you had just said. "I'm sorry, Papa. I meant that I'm not that scared, and I won't mind to be haunted, you see? I'm very... I have a lot of courage!"

Copia nodded, his cheeks still flushed with embarrassment. Quickly, he retrieved the sheet from the table and draped it over himself once more, hiding his face behind it. A silence sank between you two, and you felt like all of the brothers were looking straight at you. You couldn't feel more embarrassed than you did now.

"So, where is your costume, fratello?" Terzo asked, breaking the silence, his eyes playfully scanning Copia.

Copia, draped in a simple white sheet, spread his arms wide. "Eh, this is my costume," he declared.

Terzo couldn't help but chuckle. "No, this is just a sheet from the laundry room, probably. Come on, you two have no Halloween spirit," Terzo teased. "Only Primo followed my suggestion."

Secondo, looking dapper in his suit, shook his head in mock disapproval. "Terzo, if I dressed as you asked me, you'd have two Uncle Festers for your son."

Terzo laughed. "Wouldn't that be a sight?"

Curious, you turned to Copia, who stood beside you. "And what did Terzo ask you to dress as?"

Copia grinned mischievously. "Cousin Itt."

Secondo couldn't contain his laughter. "Cousin Itt!? Oh, fratello, I take back everything I said about your costume choices."

Copia leaned closer to you and whispered, "Still, Secondo didn't wear the costume Terzo picked out for him, coglione."

You couldn't help but laugh, your eyes locking onto his as you both shared a playful moment. The proximity and the fact that you could only see his eyes under the sheet added an unexpected intimacy to the situation. Your cheeks were flushed, and you wished you had a sheet to hide behind as well, but you couldn't tear your gaze away from his. However, your attention shifted as Angèle as you notices her returning to the table, though without Andras.

"Hello, what have I missed?" she inquired as she took her seat right next to Terzo, pressing a gentle peck on his lips.

"I due che stanno flirtando," Secondo chimed in, a playful grin on his face.

"Lasciali stare, Secondo," Primo interjected.

"Non stavamo flirtando!" Copia quickly defended himself.

"Sì, stavate flirtando con lei," Terzo said with a smirk on the corner of his lips. "Where's Andras, cara mia?" he asked.

"I put him to sleep; he's being watched by Dewdrop now," Angèle explained.

"Oh, miss, do you want me to go there?" you offered, preparing to get up.

"You don't have to, dear, only if you want," Angèle replied.

"I insist; it's my job," you said, rising from your seat.

"In that case, I would appreciate it."

"Of course, miss."

"Angèle," she corrected.

"Angèle," you repeated.

With that, you politely excused yourself from the table. Copia got up after you, gracefully removing the sheet from himself and placing it on the chair. He then turned his body to face you. His hair was a little messy, and you couldn't help but giggle slightly at the view, for some reason it was charming.

"Wait, may I go with you?" Copia asked. "I want to see my nepote, and I'm afraid you don't know where you are going to stay during the week."

You were taken aback by his gesture. "Oh, that's very... gentle of you," you said, feeling somewhat overwhelmed by his offer. "Thank you, Papa."

Copia extended his arm toward you, and you hesitated for a moment before deciding to take it. The two of you walked away from the table, making your way toward the door leading to the chambers. Side by side, you and Copia entered the corridor, leaving the lively Halloween party behind.

You took a deep breath, savoring the faint scent of his cologne as you did. It was a refreshing and almost mythical fragrance that captivated your senses. You smiled, feeling a bit overwhelmed by the experience. You didn't want to forget this scent; you wanted to keep it in your memory, as it made you feel even closer to him.

Turning your face to him, you noticed that his hair was still slightly messy. Hesitantly, you extended your hand, expecting him to react, but he remained still. Gently, you reached out and smoothed his hair, your touch light and delicate.

"Thank you for coming with me, Papa," you said, glancing up at him with a warm smile.

Copia returned your smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Oh, you don't have to thank me," he replied, his voice smooth and reassuring.

"I do," you insisted, gently squeezing his arm. "After all, this is one of your first parties as a Papa here at the ministry, right?" you inquired, a soft smile on your lips as you withdrew your hand from his hair.

Copia nodded thoughtfully. "Oh, sì, sì."

"So you are the principal attraction of tonight, Papa!" you teased playfully, your tone filled with light-heartedness.

Copia chuckled, a faint blush coloring his cheeks. "Eh... I must confess this is all new for me."

"Really? Is it different from when you were a Cardinal?" you inquired, genuinely curious about his experience.

"Not too much when it comes to responsibilities," he explained, his gaze focused ahead as he considered your question. "They've just escalated a little more, but I still do many of the things I used to do before."

"But how do you feel about being a Papa now?" you asked curiously, your eyes fixed on Copia.

"Eh... Honestly?" Copia began, hesitating for a moment. "I'm happy with it, but can you keep a secret?"

A sense of intrigue filled you, and you nodded with a reassuring smile. "All the secrets you feel like telling me."

He blushed deeply before opening up further. "I'm very scared."

"Scared? How? Why?" Your curiosity deepened.

"I'm too afraid that they will not like me as much as they liked Terzo, Secondo and Primo" Copia admitted, his vulnerability showing.

"Copia, you can't compare yourself with your brothers," you said gently, trying to ease his worries. "And if I were you, I wouldn't worry at all. They will love you."

"Do you think so?" Copia asked, his uncertainty still lingering.

"Oh, I don't think they will, I know they will," you replied with a reassuring smile, emphasizing your confidence in him.

Copia halted his steps, his inquisitive gaze locked onto yours. "Eh, how can you be so sure?" he asked.

You paused, choosing your words carefully. "Well, I can't speak for everyone, but from what I've gathered about you through my interactions and what Terzo has shared, you come across as a gentle, kind-hearted, and dedicated man. Terzo spoke highly of your love for this place and your unwavering commitment to reaching this position. If this is something you've wanted for a long time, Papa, then there's no reason to doubt yourself. Embrace it, and you'll excel in your role at the ministry."

Copia found himself at a loss for words, overwhelmed by your kind and comforting presence. Your eyes locked into each other, creating an intimate silence in the corridor. The distant music from the ball could still be heard. Copia raised his arm slightly, as if contemplating a gesture, but then he lowered it and offered a soft, appreciative smile.

The intensity of your gaze made his cheeks flush with a deep shade of red. If he were still in his costume, he was sure he'd feel exposed, as the heat in his cheeks was almost unbearable. He was thankful that at least his face was still adorned with paint. Especially because your warm eyes were still locked onto his.

"Grazie," he finally managed to say, his voice filled with gratitude. "I don't deserve your kind heart."

You returned his smile and offered a reassuring nod. "You'll do great, Papa. Just believe in yourself."

Your eyes remained locked again in a wordless connection for a brief yet meaningful moment before Copia resumed walking, with you following closely. You two kept walking with your arms entwined, the comfortable silence enveloping you both. The only sounds that filled the corridor were the rhythmic echoes of your footsteps and the distant melody of the music from the ball. You took a deep breath, feeling a sense of closeness and ease, and you tightened your grip on his arm, silently cherishing the moment.

"So, can I ask to know more about you?" Copia inquired, breaking the silence.

"Sure," you responded timidly. "What do you want to know, Papa?"

"How long have you been working for my brother?" he inquired.

You glanced at him. "I've been with him for some months now, almost a year."

He nodded thoughtfully. "And are you enjoying it?" he asked.

With a smile, you responded, "I am! Your brother is a very nice man, his wife is really sweet, and little Andras is amazing."

"If you don't mind to answer..." Copia's curiosity didn't wane as he inquired further, "How do you feel about our little lifestyle?"

"The Satanism?" you asked, seeking clarification, and he nodded in confirmation. "I don't mind it at all. I see no harm; it all looks very cheerful and great."

Copia's expression revealed a hint of surprise. "You don't feel scared being here surrounded by our unholy place?"

You chuckled lightly, shaking your head. "No, not at all. The only thing that scared me here today was you."

He sighed, showing genuine remorse. "Eh, about that... I really didn't want to scare you, not at all."

"I know, Papa. You don't have to keep apologizing. I know you were just in your costume."

Copia nodded, appreciating your understanding. "Sì, it was just a costume, after all. But I'm glad you're not afraid of our unique surroundings, or of me."

You smiled warmly. "Honestly, I find it all quite fascinating."

Copia chuckled. "Fascinating? That's not a word I hear often in this context."

"Well, it's different, and different can be interesting," you explained.

"Just like your attire tonight," he said. "You chose a very unique costume for tonight," Copia observed, his eyes sweeping up and down your nun costume.

You glanced down at your outfit and replied, "Did I?"

"Sì, our siblings here also wear habits in their daily lives, but it's just a little bit different from yours. But don't worry, you are looking very beautiful as a sorella."

"Thank you, Papa," you laughed shyly.

Copia's compliment made you blush, and you couldn't help but feel flattered by his words. As the two of you continued down the corridor, you found yourself becoming more comfortable in his presence, enjoying his charming demeanor.

"May I ask one more question?" Copia inquired.

"You can ask all the questions you want, Papa," you replied.

Copia's cheeks took on a subtle flush as he chuckled with a hint of shyness, and he nodded. "Well, I just wanted to know your name. Would you tell me your name?"

You hesitated for a moment, feeling a bit bashful. As you shared your name with him, Copia's lips curved into a broad smile. He nodded and repeated your name in a soft, charming tone. Hearing him say your name felt like the highlight of your night. It had a different, special quality when spoken in his accent, and it made you feel even closer to him.

As you continued to walk down the corridors of the ministry, Copia's steps began to slow, hinting that you were nearing your destination. Finally, you and Copia reached the door to your temporary residence. Copia took the lead, positioning himself in front of you. With a gentle knock on the door, you both waited for a few moments. The door eventually swung open, revealing Dewdrop.

"Good evening, Papa," Dewdrop said. "How can I help you?"

"I came here with Andras' nanny and she will stay here with him until his parents come back," he said.

Dewdrop raised an eyebrow and looked past Copia at you. "Andra's nanny, huh?"

You couldn't help but laugh and replied, "Don't mock me, Dewdrop."

Dewdrop chuckled and said, "I'm not mocking!"

"You're free to return to your duties now," Copia said, his tone carrying a hint of something you couldn't quite decipher.

"Of course, Papa," Dewdrop said.

Dewdrop stepped aside, granting you and Copia access to the place. Copia made his first step, entering the chambers. However, as you moved to enter, Dewdrop unexpectedly held your hand, causing you to let out a surprised squeak. Copia turned his attention to Dewdrop and you.

"How was at the ball?" Dewdrop inquired.

"It was..." you hesitated for a moment. "fun."

"Fun?" Dewdrop leaned in closer, a teasing tone in his voice. "Why don't I believe that your 'fun' is real?"

"Because you like to mock me," you replied, playfully pouting.

Dewdrop chuckled and let go of your hand. "I'm not mocking you right now. I was just wondering if you had fun. But maybe we should talk..." he turned his gaze to Copia before continuing, "...tomorrow."

Copia observed your interaction with Dewdrop closely, a thoughtful expression on his face. You took a step into the chambers, with Copia staring at you. As you exchanged a small smile, you turned your attention back to Dewdrop, who remained outside the door. Copia positioned himself behind you, his eyes locking onto Dewdrop once more.

"Grazie, Dewdrop. We'll take it from here," he said.

Dewdrop gave a polite nod and closed the door behind you. You and Copia were now alone in there. You took a moment to look around, and your eyes widened in amazement. The room was much larger and more lavish than you had anticipated. Intricately designed works of art adorned the walls, and the color scheme was meticulously coordinated, creating an elegant and inviting ambiance that took you by surprise. You couldn't help but appreciate the attention to detail that had gone into decorating the room.

"Did you like it?" Copia inquired, gesturing for you to follow him further into the room.

"It's bigger than I expected," you admitted, glancing around in awe.

"It's going to be mine," he explained.

"Yours?" you questioned.

"Sì, this place was supposed to be mine for now, as it's the Papal apartment. However, I don't need this much space at the moment, so I thought it was better to give it to Terzo and his family, while I stay in my old chambers."

"Are you sure, Papa? I mean..."

"I'm completely sure, don't worry. Besides, my room has everything I need – a bed, a TV, my video game, and even my lava lamp," he said with a playful grin, noticing your intrigued expression.

"Did you say a lava lamp?" you asked, clearly fascinated. "I haven't seen one for so long!"

Copia's grin widened as he saw your excitement. "Sì. I find the shifting colors and blobs of lava oddly soothing."

"They are very... hypnotizing for sure," you said.

He laughed softly. "Let me show you to your room," Copia smiled warmly. "Follow me, cuoricina."

You nodded appreciatively as he led the way to your designated room. He extended his hand to open the door for you, and you acknowledged his gesture with another nod before stepping inside. As you entered the room, your eyes widened in astonishment. The room was decorated in warm, neutral colors, with a comfortable-looking bed, a small desk, and a window that overlooked the beautiful garden outside.

Copia gestured towards the room. "This will be your room during your stay," he explained. "Please, make yourself at home."

"Thank you, Papa," you replied with a grateful smile.

Eager to explore, you wandered around the room, but your curiosity drew you to the window. It was large and clear, and you pressed your hands against the cool glass, looking down at the vast garden below. Even in the darkness, the small lights scattered throughout the garden made it appear enchanting. As you gazed, a slight shiver ran down your spine, and your body tensed a bit as you felt Copia's warm hand on your lower back, his touch gentle and comforting.

"Did you like it?" he asked, his fingers gently rubbing your lower back.

As you turned your face towards him, your eyes met his. Copia's face was softly illuminated by the ambient light from outside the window, accentuating his handsome features. The moment felt like it stretched on for eternity, and you wished you could freeze time to continue gazing at him, to savor his touch a little longer. However, you couldn't just stand there in silence, no matter how much you wanted to.

Breaking the silence, you finally spoke, your voice trembling slightly, "I loved it."

"I think this room has the best view of them all," he whispered, his eyes fixed on you.

"I think you're right, Papa," you whispered back.

Copia withdrew his hand from your back and concealed both of his hands behind his back. He turned his attention to the garden, his eyes fixed on something in the distance. But you couldn't tear your gaze away from him. For someone associated with a satanic church, he appeared ethereal and bathed in an inexplicable grace, as if touched by a blessing rather than something sinful.

"So you are friend with Dewdrop?" Copia inquired, breaking the silence.

"Oh, well, I suppose we're friends of sorts," you replied. "He sometimes visits Terzo's house with ministry-related items.

"Eh! That's right," he nodded. "That makes sense."

You giggled, turning your body to face him. "He told me that he's one of the older ghouls here, and that's quite fascinating, to be honest."

"Fascinating?" he inquired.

"Yes, it's intriguing," you explained. "First, because he's been here for such a long time, and second, because he's also a Ghoul. I have no real understanding of what Ghouls are, but I have my theories."

Copia moved closer to you. "So, you find ghouls fascinating?"

"Yes, I do," you said with genuine curiosity. "I've always wondered where they come from."

Copia hesitated and then said, "I'm afraid I can't reveal that. It's a secret of the ministry."

You pouted and pleaded, "Really, Papa? You won't tell me?"

Copia couldn't resist your charm. He grinned playfully. "Well, alright. You see, when a Ghoul and a Ghoulette love each other..."

You burst into laughter, cutting him off. "Stop it! That's not how it happens!"

Copia chuckled at your reaction. "You're right, that's not how it happens, but I couldn't resist."

You playfully rolled your eyes, followed by a smile. "You're really not going to tell me, right?"

Copia shook his head regretfully. "I wish I could, trust me, but I can't."

"It's okay, Papa," you whispered, drawing nearer to him.

"Shall we head back to the party?" he suggested, his hand reaching for your hand.

"Uh... I can't, Papa. I need to stay here with Andras," you responded.

"Right! I completely forgot," he sighed. "I'm a lousy uncle."

"No, Papa, you're not," you reassured him. "I know you're an amazing uncle."

Copia's gaze remained locked with yours, and a brief silence hung in the air. He moved to say something, but just as he began to speak, the sound of Andras crying echoed from the room next door. Without hesitation, you swiftly exited the room and hurried into the adjacent one. There, you opened the door and approached the small crib. With gentle hands, you lifted Andras into your arms, comforting him as he cried.

With Andras in your arms, you gradually managed to calm him down, and his cries gradually transformed into soft, whimpering sounds. Copia watched the scene unfold from the doorway, his smile reflecting his appreciation for your comforting skills. It was a heartwarming moment as you continued to soothe the little one, both of you providing him with the care and attention he needed.

"Is he all right?" Copia asked as he walked over to you.

You turned to him with a reassuring smile. "Yes, he just needed a little attention. Babies can be quite sensitive, but they usually calm down with some care and comfort."

Copia nodded in agreement, his gaze shifting to Andras as he gently caressed the his head. "You're really good with him."

"I guess so," you replied, still holding Andras. "Are you awake to see your zio Copia?"

"Zio? Do you speak Italian?"

"Oh, not at all," you chuckled, gently rocking Andras. "But Terzo always talks about you three as his zio, so I just got used to it."

Copia chuckled at your response. "That's quite observant of you. Impressive."

"Thank you, Papa," you replied with a hint of pride.

Copia then extended his arms toward Andras. "So, before I go back to the party, can I hold my nepote a little bit?"

"Of course," you replied, gently passing Andras into Copia's waiting arms.

Copia's face lit up with a warm smile as he cradled Andras in his arms. The baby looked small and fragile in comparison to the tall and imposing figure of Copia, but there was a gentle tenderness in the way he held him. Copia's eyes were fixated on Andras, who gazed up at him with curious eyes. It was a heartwarming sight, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of warmth and contentment as you watched the two of them together.

"You look well with him in your arms," you remarked, your gaze fixed on the bonding pair.

"Do I?" Copia giggled softly. "I always heard I had a way with kids."

"I think you do too," you said with sincerity, a smile gracing your lips.

As you took a step closer to Copia and Andras, you gently reached for the baby's hand, feeling his tiny fingers wrap around one of yours. Copia's eyes met yours, and there was an unspoken connection between you two. You both shared a smile, and in that moment, you realized that Copia's presence was even more captivating in person than in any photograph. The depth of his gaze and the warmth of his smile were something that couldn't be fully captured in pictures. You found yourself drawn to the genuine warmth and kindness in Copia's eyes.

However, the tender moment between you and Copia was suddenly interrupted by Andras's cries, breaking the connection you shared. Copia gently rocked the baby in his arms, trying to soothe him, while you reached out to touch Andras's tiny cheek, offering comfort and reassurance. Andras's cries filled the room, making it clear that he needed attention and care. Copia looked at you with a slightly apologetic smile as he continued his attempts to calm the baby.

"It seems like Andras prefers your company," Copia remarked, his voice filled with warmth as he tried to ease the baby's distress.

With that, Copia carefully handed Andras back to you, allowing you to resume your soothing efforts. You gently cradled Andras, who had started to show signs of drowsiness. You carefully walked over to the crib, and with a tender touch, you placed him back in it. Andras seemed to settle down once again, his eyelids growing heavier as he drifted into a peaceful sleep.

Copia watched the scene with a soft smile. "Grazie for taking care of m- him," he said, his tone a little nervous.

You turned to him with a warm smile. "It's my pleasure, Papa. And also, my job."

Copia nodded, leaning closer to the crib to admire his sleeping nephew. His fingers gently brushed over Andras's tiny hand, and a warm smile played on his lips. "I should head back to the party. But can I walk you to your chambers?"

"Papa, I'm already here, my room is right next door," you chuckled, stepping closer to him.

"Eh! Sì, sì, my silly mistake, sì?" He chuckled, his eyes filled with amusement.

"Don't be too hard on yourself, Papa!" you teased, playfully patting his arm. "Maybe my outfit is causing the confusion."

You reached for the veil of your nun costume, fingers deftly untangling the knot that held it in place. As you removed the costume piece, Copia's gaze briefly fell upon you, but he quickly averted his eyes, fixating on some unseen point in the room.

"Better now?" you asked.

Copia turned his gaze back to you, his eyes tracing your figure from head to toe. He took a deep breath and nodded. There was a hint of a word that he seemed to hold back. You giggled and decided to distract yourself by tucking Andras into his crib. After turning off a nearby lamp, you walked back towards Copia, stopping in front of him.

"Maybe I can walk you to the front door?" you offered, reaching for his shirt and adjusting it neatly around his neck.

Copia looked at your hand and then nodded thoughtfully. You both left Andras's room, quietly closing the door behind you. Walking together down the corridor, your footsteps produced a faint echo on the polished floors. Approaching the front door, you hesitated for a moment. You stopped in front of it and your hand hovered over the doorknob. You glanced at Copia, who seemed lost in his thoughts as he stared at you.

"Thank you again for accompanying me, Papa," you expressed, your voice sincere and appreciative.

Copia blinked as if snapping out of a reverie, his attention returning to you. "Oh, mi dispiace," he responded, his voice gentle. "I was momentarily lost in thought. You were saying?"

"I was thanking you," you reiterated, a faint smile on your lips. "For coming with me and for letting us stay in your Papal apartment."

Copia offered you a warm smile in return. "You're most welcome. It was a pleasure to be of assistance. I hope you and Andras have a pleasant night."

With that, Copia stepped through the open door into the corridor, and you leaned against the doorframe, your eyes fixed on his retreating figure. Copia turned his body back to you and paused for a moment, contemplating something. Slowly, he extended his hand toward you, his fingers trembling slightly as he reached for yours, holding it.

"I hope you find your room comfortable. If there's anything you need or any questions you have, don't hesitate to ask me or any of the Ghouls. We're here to make your time at the ministry enjoyable If there's anything you need, don't hesitate to ask," he said with a reassuring tone. "And remember, you can always reach me."

Copia brought your hand closer to his mouth and pressed a gentle kiss on the back of it. You nodded, blushing deeply at his words, and bit your lower lip, trying to contain your emotions. Taking a deep breath, you offered him a warm smile. As he released your hand, his lips lightly brushed against your skin, and you felt his grip tighten. Your breath caught in your throat, but you fought to maintain your composure.

“Of course, Papa. Have a great time at the party, and don’t scare anyone else with your costume," you playfully remarked.

Copia chuckled. “I’ll do my best. Arrivederci, bella sorella.”

“Arrivederci, Papa,” you replied as he turned to leave, heading back to the Halloween party.

Copia came to a sudden halt, turning his head to look back at you over his shoulder, his gaze lingering on you for a moment before he turned and strolled down the corridor. As he gradually disappeared from your sight, you closed the door gently. Leaning against the door, you took a deep breath, your eyes closed, and you bit your lower lip slightly. There was no doubt about it – Copia was even more captivating in person than in the photos.

Grammar

Ho tentato: I tried

Fratello: Brother

Sì: Yes

Signora: Lady

Il piacere è tutto mio: The pleasure is all mine

Hai lo spirito di Halloween! Sapevo che non mi avresti deluso: You have the spirit of Halloween! I knew you wouldn't disappoint me!

Cretino: Idiot

Bella signora: Beautiful lady

Piccolo demone: Little demon

Ciao piccolo: Hello, little one

Il tuo zio preferito ti ha fatto mancare, mio piccolo demone: Your favorite uncle missed you, my little demon

Zio preferito: Favorite uncle

Bambino: Child

Ti ho spaventato? Mi dispiace, non era mia intenzione!: Did I scare you? I'm sorry, I didn't mean to!

Bene, molto bene: Good, very good

Non cominciare neanche: Don't even start

Non stavo per dire niente: I wasn't going to say anything

Mi dispiace profondamente: I'm deeply sorry

Nepote: Nephew

Forse sarebbe meglio se smettessi di giustificarti, fratello: Maybe it would be best if you stop trying to justify yourself, brother

Coglione: Idiot

I due che stanno flirtando: The two of them flirting

Lasciali stare: Leave them alone

Non stavamo flirtando!: We weren't flirting!

Sì, stavate flirtando con lei: Yes, you were flirting with her

Cara mia: My dear

Grazie: Thank you

Cuoricina: Sweetheart

Mi dispiace: I'm sorry

Arrivederci: Goodbye

Taglist: @copiasslut @copiasprincipessa @enchantedbunny @haelithra @new-age-space-age @the-did-i-ask @sodoswitchimage @thesoundresoundsecho @fishwithtitz @nimbusghoul @da-rulahh @th4t-em0-k1d @citrusbunnies @copias-sewer-rat @reeeebeeee @ghostfangirlsweden @copiaspet6222 @lilylovesdew @quaildoodle @fluffysourpatch @terzossoapbar @x1nd1g0x @fantasticdeercollection

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