#and there’s always a scene where she has to seduce someone

[captainsjack]

in the next mission impossible movie there better be a scene where the one (1) female agent they have has to seduce/flirt with a guy to get information out of him except when she tries, he makes it clear he’s not interested and says something implying he’s gay. so she walks away and into the comms tells the team it didn’t work because “i’m not his type.” then we get semi-frustrated team members telling her “well then become his type, we need the info” etc only for her to interrupt with “i think one of you boys will have a better chance.” then the comms go silent and it cuts to each team member’s reaction of “😳” and the “oh”s as they realize he’s gay. except when it cuts to ethan’s reaction, he’s already sauntering over to the guy and we just hear him say “i’m on it” and then we get scenes of ethan seducing the bad guy and he gets to gay kiss him. if this doesn’t happen i will riot

[seneon]

Can you make Mash x female reader please.

That when Finn and the other want to know why Mash doesn't love lemon like she do to him. And they got answer from Mash that because he protect reader love

sink into each other ──── mash burnedead x fem! reader.

about. mash actually has a lover, and his friends are to find out about it very soon. | 560+ words. fluffy romantic.

notes. if mash don't want lemon i'll have her tyvm

mash burnedead does not return lemon irvine's feelings. how so and why? though the girl doesn't mind that he does not return her feelings back, she promised to always be by mash's side.

she might be oblivious that he does not like her back, but finn and dot could easily tell that mash is not someone of romantical feelings. lance is always suspicious of mash, his mind telling him that there is at least one female that he has had a crush on before. it is impossible that there is none.

to everyone else, they could tell that lemon's efforts of trying to open up mash's heart and at least rent a day or two is impossible. there was never a possibility in the first place. and they felt bad for the girl who tries her hardest to impress or seduce mash.

there was one odd day, where mash is oddly missing from classes. the last time anyone has ever seen him was finn, which mash was eating two cream puffs. he noticed there was a bento wrapped in a very beautiful wine red cloth.

so finn told his friends about the beautifully clothed bento box. and they started sharing suspicions with each other. but nothing came to mind. there was nothing that could date back to mash even owning a fancy piece of cloth. they didn't want to simply suspect him either.

that is, when lance's suspicions came true.

he was walking through the corridors beside the garden and caught a sight at the corner of his eyes. upon having high principals, his curiosity overtook him and he went to poke his nose into the scene.

shock immediately arise, lance's jaw dropping as far as they could. metaphorically, it dropped to the ground, eyes widened until they might fall out. right in front of him, was a scene of his beloved rival and friend wrapping his arms around a student who is dressed in lang's uniform.

when that student broke the hug, it shocked lance even more. with beautiful hair and beautiful eyes that stared into mash's honey ones. she smiled widely and adding more shock to the crown, mash smiled back, although tiny and barely visible. yet it was enough for lance to understand the scenario.

"w-whaaaaat..!" a voice beside lance said in pure shock too, as lance looked beside to find finn's jaw dropped to the ground. "that's what the fancy bento is for??"

lance looked at the two, noticing the girl's hands that held a bento, a box wrapped in cream puff cloth. then to mash, who held the said bento with fancy wrapping.

very soon, you and mash exchanged bento boxes. the burnedead then embraced you in a hug, allowing your body to sink into his. just like that, both bodies were sinking into each other as each second passed.

you are a mage from a prestigious family with two lines on your face. it would only make sense if you sensed two other mages watching you. so in the hug, you slowly slid your through mash's coat and shoot a little spell from your fingers at lance and finn.

"mash, your friends have come to find you."

there was no hiding your relationship with mash anymore. and mash's friends now understand why he doesn't return her feelings to lemon, for mash burnedead already has someone to lean on.

© SENEON 2024 ♰ do not repost, alter, or translate.

[readychilledwine]

Dancing with Eris Vanserra Headcanons?

Sway

Dancing with Eris Headcanons

Warnings - none.

A/N - I have a whole playlist for this subject. Writing Eris dancing is honestly becoming an obsession.

P.s. You'll get a detailed scene of that in Kissed by Fire.

Eris learned to dance from his mother. His father did not see if as a necessary skill, but Mama Vanserra saw it as a necessary outlet.

She has had him dancing since he could stand on her toes. She would count the little steps out to him while teaching him the story and meaning behind each dance.

It soon became an object of pride Beron used. Another way to brag about the son he was not actually proud of.

He would use Eris's skills to seduce females for information, or Mother forbid a father upset the High Lord and had a pretty daughter. Then it was a warning.

Until, you, that is.

Your father is one of Eris's spies, planted as an advisor to Beron. Once you were of age, Beron insisted on a large ball to honor you and present you as an eligible bachelorette to the Autumn Court.

Beron had Eris offer you a dance. It was the first time Beron forced him to dance with a female where it wasn't a warning or filled with ill intent.

Eris will never forget that night. Your hair had been curled and fell into loose waves, a braid wrapped the back of your hair with pieces pulled through. Your father and mother spared no expense to purchase diamonds to decorate your hair with.

He remembers the way you flushed when he offered you his hand. The way you quietly squeaked when his hand rested on your hip once you two were centered on the floor.

He remembers the feel of the rich red velvet dress and its full skirt. He remembers the whispers of scandal over the sweetheart necklace decored with diamonds and sheer nude sleeves that matched your skintone perfectly and matched as well. It was a nod to your mother's Night Court heritage while still accepting fashion standards from Autumn.

The first dance you two shared was a traditional waltz.

It would be the same dance you two would share for your first as husband and wife one year later.

Eris never had a dance partner like you. Someone who was as trained as he was, who loved to dance as much as he did.

Nesta had been fun to dance with, but she did not hold a candle to you.

You and Eris spend most of your time dancing. Sometimes, it's alone with instruments enchanted to play in the ballroom. Sometimes, it's to absolutely no music, your head on his chest. Your arms would rest up his strong back while one of his wrapped your waist and the other cradled your head.

The two of you are the opening dance for every Autumn ball, a tradition handed over by Beron to Eris to allow him to drink instead of perform his duties.

It allowed you two so much more freedom to decide the tone of the ball. It was a symbol of power Beron unknowingly and stupidly handed his son.

It also allowed you two to bring back a dance Beron had banned. The tango. He had deemed it too sexual, too scandalous.

The dance was too ingrained in Autumn culture to allow it to rest and be forgotten.

When Beron died under mysterious circumstances, dancing became more common in Autumn again.

In the streets, in the pubs, in The Forest House.

It became all too common to hear you and Eris laughing as he spun and dipped you.

His body was more relaxed now, allowing the movements to feel almost Godlike now.

When you two finally have a family, the made tradition continues.

From the moment your little daughter holds her head up well enough, Eris holds her close, letting her hold his finger in her little hand and swaying her.

Then Eris echos his own mother, having your sweet girl stand on his feet as he teaches her the steps.

Her first dance presented to the court was a magic moment for Eris.

She was in your dress. That beautiful red velvet dress. He looked at you during the dance, eyes lined with tears as you held your young son.

You would always be his favorite partner. His perfect match. But his daughter, your daughter, she would be close second.

It was a fairytale for him. It healed that last part of dancing that had been so tainted by Beron.

He had spent the rest of the night dancing with you, watching closely as male after male approaches your daughter

You trailed his eyes, seeing the lights dancing off your daughter's flaming red hair. "A beauty, is she not?"

"She is exquisite. My finest work." His lips twitched in pride. Eyes beginning to water again. "I do not plan on letting her go gently."

"Perhaps you will have a dance off with whomever she decides is worthy of her love."

Eris smirked at the idea, the bond now glowing as he dipped you and kissed your neck. "And now I know how we replace the blood duels. I would never lose."

General Taglist:

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanagers @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho @mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium @loneliestluvr @eternallyelvish @azrielsmate3 @daughterofthemoons-stuff @meritxellao @aria-chikage @hungryforbatboys @lilah-asteria @fandomrejects

[hoodreader]

cat women — vedic astrology.

i think cat woman is one of the most inspiring vigilantes for the ‘dark feminine’. she’s mystical, intuitive, cunning, flirtatious, & seductive. so when my friend & i were talking about the krittika nakshatra. she made a connection between krittika & animal textiles then i had the sudden realization that krittika reoccurs in the charts of people who play or dress as her.

i think this is because krittika is the blade; it means “the cutter.” whether the native has aries krittika or taurus krittika, the qualities persist. there’s always an iconic cat woman scene where cat woman uses her razor-sharp nails to cut a hole through glass. this also shows not only physical blades, but blades of the tongue, ie being “silver tongued” and/or having a “sharp” mind. the krittika nakshatra is very cutthroat. this also reminds me of that iconic whip scene, and the phrase “sharp as a whip.” sharpness is commonly used as a term to also describe someone’s intelligence… but also them being good-looking.

i also find that krittika nakshatra in women is highly sexy & desired, but due to the dark nature of krittika, a krittika woman is not wanted without adversity. this nakshatra is also associated with “splitting / cutting” up relationships & being “the other woman.” in a way, men deal with an inner conflict when being involved with the krittika woman. i think it’s because martian or solar qualities over a woman causes insecurity in men who are not secure with themselves. the type of men who hate you because they hate themselves. so these men project. there’s no way a woman like that could simply be liked, she must’ve seduced him.

and i feel that’s because the krittika woman is not the “ideal” woman. she’s not demure, she’s not passive, she’s not insecure, and she doesn’t depend heavily on the men around her. instead, she’s dominant, assertive, flirtatious. she cuts her hair short. and she’s sometimes androgynous in presentation, but still so sexy. and it drives men and women crazy. the presence of other planets being in anuradha, ashlesha, jyeshtha, bharani, mrigashira, etc can also strengthen these “dark” qualities in a krittika woman.

! halle berry is probably the most iconic cat woman in modern pop culture. she’s a krittika rahu, with an ashlesha sun.

halle berry’s role was so iconic, i think she informs the way modern actresses give their takes on cat woman, which is why we see so many of them having krittika placements. for example:

— ariana grande recreated cat woman in her “the boy is mine” music video. she’s a krittika venus & jyeshtha north node. — normani dressed up as cat woman for one halloween. she’s a krittika mars, as well as a bharani mercury. — zoë kravitz is a krittika jupiter & anuradha sun + mercury. — saweetie dressed as cat woman for halloween [?] and she’s another krittika venus. — naomi campbell did a shoot as cat woman, and she’s a krittika sun. i don’t know if that naomi shoot was before after halle berry’s movie but i digress.

kinda unrelated side note. my point about “the other woman” rings so true for the reputation ariana got. halle berry also applies, as she’s been in three marriages thus at least two separations. saweetie for her allegations with cheating. and so on. krittika can be a little romantically corrupted, but i think that’s why it translates into something so irresistible. in a “i’m not supposed to be doing this” way. i myself am a krittika venus, and i never cheated on someone or have been “the other woman” bc why the fuck would i do that to myself lol. buttt i will say that people usually start liking me when they know they shouldn’t. as a rebound, while they’re involved with someone, rebellious fetish, them pursuing me but hating the type of person i am because they want me to conform. like an exercise of conquest.

anyways… this is what i noticed of krittika and cat woman. hope y’all enjoyed my ramble. :P

[beware-of-pity]

I need people who would die on the hill of "Fire and Blood is completely unreliable, therefore we cannot trust anything that's written in it" to open their eyes and read a book that is similar to the structure that Fire and Blood uses to realize how wrong of a statement that is. I know that this will probably be received as a very hot take but I do not believe that everything needs to be analyzed or has to have a deeper meaning behind it. The curtain can be blue and there doesn't have to be a reason for the curtain to be blue other than the fact that it's just blue (hope someone gets the reference). Ryan Condall obviously disagrees with that, because in his quest to recreate his own 'magnum opus' of a 'Shakespearian tragedy', as he always likes to refer to it as, he has instead created the equivalent of a dumpster on fire next to the other bigger dumpster on fire that was Game of thrones.

Bland, whitewashed characters with little to no turmoil or agency going on are revered as complex and nuantical on Twitter. And if you even dare to disagree, you're immediately sentenced to the stake. Characters like Alicent and Rhaenyra could literally not even be in the episode and nothing would change. Rhaenyra was in episode 4 for not even 5 minutes and with everything going on in it you wouldn't even have noticed that. She should have been there, leading the council as Cole marched on rook's rest, her only available connection to the mainland in the crownlands, apart from Claw Isle, after duskendale fell to the greens and instead her only scene in such climactic episode is her walk of shame returning home and her, rightfully, getting scolded by her son for thinking that she could still sue for peace with Alicent, the mother of her son's murderer. The show makes the decision to have Rhaenys volunteer instead of having Rhaenyra send her there so that later when Rhaenys dies Rhaenyra cannot be blamed for it. The fundamental changes of characters like Alicent don't work because the writers are not able to sustain such changes from the source material they are deriving the story from. Going from leading the council that would place Aegon on the throne, to never even being in on the plan to usurp Rhaenyra, that her father created, is such a letdown for such a political savy character like book Alicent.

Aging her down, to Rhaenyra's age, and making these two childhood best friends, was a mistake.

What is very evident is that the showrunners have no clue, so far, what to do with a character like show Alicent. If she's not going to lead the council when Aegon is bedridden and Aemond is off to fight in the Riverlands, why doesn't she just leave?

Going from an active participant in a usurpation from somebody who needs to miss-hear or misunderstand her dying husband for her to get in on the plan, only so there is an excuse to get her on the war council is bad writing.

Making people believe that Rhaenyra was usurped because of a misunderstanding, and not only because she was a woman, is bad writing. And going to the extremes, of having these two 'betray' each other in order to have a reason to make Rhaenyra look bad in the eyes of her rivals is bad writing. Rhaenyra could have been the perfect heir, and even only because she was a woman, Otto and Alicent would have usurped her either way.

Going back to the point of this post; Timelines, ages, events, who got married to who, how many kids they had, things that you can quantify are not something that can be made up, used as rumors or form of propaganda in a history book. What you make up as a rumor is sexual escapades and a young girl seducing her sworn shield who has watched over her since she was seven. Things that can make a person look bad to glorify or uphold the good of someone else alongside all the other stuff that happens behind closed doors and makes you question where the information is coming from.

I find it so odd that the aggressive marketing team for the second season was all about choosing your side. Lol, what is there to even choose? Choose between the overly sanctified Rhaenyra, who god forbid is still searching for the peace that has already been thrown over the cliff long ago, and is not allowed yet to make a mistake. Or, Alicent, the pathetic hypocrite who made her bed and is not willing to admit it. Anything interesting about these two women is completely being cut so that Ryan Condall and Co. can continue to spread the "men are bad and violent, women are the gentle peacemakers that don't want war." which is leaning a little too heavy for my taste into gender essentialism which would make every choice they have ever made about these two characters more misogynistic than any of the action of the actual misogynistic characters in this story. Taking away the very little agency these characters had and constantly making them the perpetual victims of the patriarchy and completely sidelining any sort of character traits that they may actually develop through their actions had they actually been taking any, doesn't work for me.

This show was a mistake.

[yinora-evergreen]

Could you do a Dead Boy Detectives Cat King x reader Payne, Edwin’s sibling who is a ghost after a freak accident and helps them out. They always put the boys needs above their own. After the first Cat King meeting they get a little jealous of their brother but they know it’s wrong. Of course Monty and the others would like Edwin.

Pairing: Thomas "the Cat King" x gn! ghost! Payne! reader, mild implied Monty x reader if you squint, Edwin Payne x sibling! reader

a/n: tysm for this request! i hope it is to your liking and i hope it's not too ooc<3

warnings: jealous reader, it's implied that reader could be interested in Monty, Charles and Crystal [Cat King talks about which form he should take, inspired by the scene in the show when he turns into Monty and Charles to try and seduce Edwin], i wasn't sure whether these warnings were necesarry but i added them anyway just incase

You had been part of the dead boy detectives agency for a while, ever since you had found your brother Edwin again, you stayed by his side, and ofcourse Charles's too.

you aways helped out, kept them safe the best you could. even when you weren't in a state to do so.

there were uncountable times when you took the hit instead of them, physically and mentally.

you helped calm down ghosts who were lost, helped along with cases to make sure everything went according to plan, steped infront of them if someone tried to attack with an iron weapon, no matter how bad it hurt.

ofcourse, Edwin greatly appreciated it, and yet somehow you feel underappreciated.

they never changed the name, even though you joined, they were the ones people, well, ghosts looked for.

it was always "where are the two boys we were told about" and never "aren't you one of the dead boy detectives?"

when Crystal joined, she didn't seem very fond of you at first, which you honestly didn't mind too much.

could you blame her? she got her memories stolen by her demon ex and now she has no idea where she's supposed to be, where her home is.

when the four of you went to Port Townsend you thought little of it.

it was just one quick little case, right?

wrong.

because of your brother Edwin using a simple spell on a cat that you guys got stuck here.

when you first met the Cat King, you were intrigued to say the least.

maybe it was his way of talking, maybe it was those eyes that captivated you, whatever it was, you felt drawn to him.

but ofcourse, he only looked at your brother.

was it normal to feel jealous like that? you love your brother dearly, you shouldn't want to take something like that from him, right?

right?

when you met Monty, you thought he was pretty cute.

not your exact type, but cute.

but ofcourse, yet again, Edwin was the star of the show.

eventually Monty wanted to hang out with you too, but it was after the third time of him asking to hang out that you found out the only true reason was so he would have an excuse to see Edwin when walking you 'home', which really pissed you off.

so you left, mumbling something about just wanting to take a walk alone for a moment.

much to your luck, they accepted it without another thought.

as you walk, you can't help but notice the amount of cats you see everywhere.

Edwin was supposed to count them all, right?

maybe you could help by counting aswell, and telling Edwin later on how many you saw.

but you were too upset to really do that, so you just kept walking.

until you notice that one of the cats seems to be following you, no matter how many times you turn a corner, or stop for a moment, it seemed to follow your every move.

up untill a specific part, near the woods.

you thought it finally stopped following you, untill you turned around to see none other than the Cat King standing there.

that startled you, for some reason you didn't exactly expect it, and you nearly tripped if he didn't catch you.

"why are you here? why did you follow me?" you instantly question him, which seems to surprise him atleast a little.

"woah, calm down, i wasn't following you, i was just... taking a stroll... okay no i was totally following you" he admits.

"has Edwin counted all the cats yet?" you roll your eyes.

"no, obviously not, he would've gone to find you if he did" you cross your arms and look away from him.

why did he have to look so charming?

you thought he'd leave, but he didn't.

why was he still staring at you?

"you know, i only pay so much attention to him because of his spell on one of my dear cats, you should remember that"

"why would i care who you give your stupid attention to" you practically snarl, though he doesn't seem to be bothered by your tone.

"now, now, no need to feel so attacked. i just want to know, what is it that has gotten you in such a sour mood" he nearly sounds like he cares.

nearly.

"nothing, i just wanted to take a walk" you lie, hoping he'd just leave you alone.

"right, lets try that again, hm?"

he swipes his thumb over your mouth, and much to your surprise you spill everything that you've been keeping quiet about.

"it's just that, i really do love my brother, truly, but sometimes i wish he wouldn't be the one getting all the attention, like, you gave him all your attention back when you wanted to punish him for his 'crime' and Monty only wanted to hang out with me to get closer to him and i just wish that for once, just once, someone i'm interested in would actually see me too. Edwin and Charles, now Crystal too, always get so much credit for solving cases too, and yet i'm the one that keeps getting hurt, that keeps being the target, i always put them above me and ofcourse i'm not greedy about getting attention or gratefullness but does it really hurt that much to ask if i'm okay? if i'm okay with being the bait when it's necesarry? if i'm okay with being ready to face death and go to the afterlife so she'll leave them alone? is it too much to ask for just a little care that's more than just some simple praise?" you ramble on for a bit, barely noticing the small, sypathetic smile on his face.

"now, now, darling, that is quite a lot of emotion, huh?"

"oh fuck off" you snap back, the tingling feeling of the spell he used to make you tell him fading as quick as it came.

"i see you, i have for a while" he admits.

"do you have any idea how hard it is to focus on being intimidating and giving your brother his punishment for using a spell against one of my cats when you're right next to him, all pretty and enticing" he drawls out as if he's a kid who's throwing a tantrum about not getting icecream.

"i mean seriously, have you seen yourself?"

"not exactly, i don't have a reflection as a ghost" you mumble, trying to ignore the growing heat on your cheeks.

he rolls his eyes.

"tell me, what form should i take to entice you to... stay with me, atleast for the night? Monty? Charles? Crystal? i can be whoever you want me to be, my dear [name]" he says as he takes the respective forms of each person he lists, and you notice how even though he practically shape-shifts, one thing always stays the same: those eyes you've grown to love.

"just be you" you murmur, daring to take a step closer to him, to which he subtly licks his lips.

it seems as though he's about to say something, but then he kisses you instead, taking a hold on your waist, he seems to be more gentle than you expected, and you kiss him back.

if someone told you that this kiss lasted for hours, you would've believed them.

it felt as if you got that peacefull after-life that you were promised, without ever leaving behind those you care about.

reluctantly, you both pull away.

"can i stay with you tonight, then?" you mutter quietly.

the Cat King nods, taking your hand, ready to lead you to his abode.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

[thisgirlnamedblusy]

Your writing is very pretty and I’m amazed at all your stories! This one is a mixed bag of sad feelings, and hopeful wishes ahah but -

What if Donna and female reader have been in a relationship for some time now and are very comfortable together. But lately Donna has been putting in less effort in the relationship. Reader spoils Donna, does most of the cooking, makes time for Donna, tries to do all of the things Donna likes and whenever Donna wants something or feels Reader could do better Reader tries to be better because she loves Donna. This used to be an effort they were both doing, but lately it feels like Donna is withdrawn and isolating from Reader and barely even speaks to her no matter what Reader tries to do. They don’t even make love anymore or cuddle. Eventually Reader begins to get a bit used to this and a bit sad and withdrawn from feeling like she is the one maintaining their relationship. After an encounter with Alcina, in which something happens that shows Donna that Reader is desirable to other people, and someone else is willing to put in the effort to make Reader happy, Donna FINALLY sees what this isolating behavior has been doing to them and makes a tremendous effort to show Reader she cares. All of the romantic gestures (flowers, spoiling Reader, writing her love letters, all sorts of romantic things), and a tremendous effort to seduce Reader and make her swoon in Donna’s arms while Donna makes sure that Reader knows she is loved and belongs only with Donna.

Ending in a romantic, and smutty scene possibly with a G!P Donna if you’re comfortable with that.

Again, your writing is tremendous and I’m excited to read every new one you make!

- A very tired Reader

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

A bucket of flowers

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem! Reader

Warnings: G!P Donna, a bit of smut, Minors DNI, angst, fluff, Donna being Donna

Word count: 8,747

Summary: Who is sending you those beautiful flowers?

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

It might seem like it was a night like any other and it certainly was, but for you no day was the same as the previous one, they were all different, endless opportunities and occasions to show her the love you felt.

“Oh, the fool made a cake, congratulations,” the Angie doll mocked, keeping you company in your long cooking sessions.

“It's not a cake, my friend, it's the cake, do you understand?” you asked with a smile and a raised eyebrow, decorating that culinary masterpiece.

“Oh… The cake…” the puppet murmured, staring at you while you checked that everything was perfect. “It doesn't seem special to me.”

“Well… You should know that it's Donna's favorite cake,” you said with a smile, taking off your apron, ready to enjoy what you always saw as a romantic dinner, a special occasion for the two of you.

“Ugh, there you go with your cheesy stuff again…” the doll protested, moving away from the cake, with a softer tone.

“I like to spoil Donna, is there a problem?” you asked amused, taking the cake and walking out of the kitchen, with the doll following you closely.

“I guess there isn’t,” Angie said, shrugging and comically moving ahead of you, almost making you trip.

Humming happily you went up the elevator, where the lady was waiting for you sitting at the table with that same serious expression, one that you had been struggling to change for a long time.

“Why did you take so long?” Donna asked as you approached slowly.

Normally those words didn't have that hoarse, listless tone, that horrible tone you hated and thought you would never hear again.

“I'm sorry, honey, I was just making this,” you said, ignoring her impatience and showing the cake to the woman in black, who glanced at it as you set it down on the table. “Do you like it?”

“Mm,” she murmured, nodding listlessly and starting to eat without waiting for you.

At first it was hard for you to get used to Donna's lack of manners, her apparent lack of interest in everything you did but... Little by little, you understood that it was your new routine.

“I followed your advice and I was very careful with the sugar,” you commented, sitting in front of her, who didn't even make an effort to look you in the eyes.

“Sure,” Donna murmured, serving you a glass of wine with a tired sigh.

“Yes... Uh... I hope, I hope you like the soup,” you said with a shy smile, seeing how she seemed to ignore every phrase you said, without stopping eating.

Her face sketched a brief smile, but long enough for your spirit to calm down and you began to eat too, observing every gesture the brunette made.

Dinner passed in silence, exchanging glances from time to time. They were indecipherable, confused and flat glances. Her bright eye said nothing, yours were always happy to coincide with it.

Your smile was indelible. It didn't matter the silence that for you became more and more uncomfortable. You knew that in front of you was the woman of your life.

“How did you spend your day? You haven't left the workshop today,” you commented distractedly, attracting Donna's attention.

“I had a lot of work,” she said in a whispery voice, barely paying attention to you.

“Oh, of course,” you said amused, playing with the spoon. “I'm not surprised,”

“Mm,” the lady murmured again, taking a sip of wine, making that she didn't feel like talking clear to you, something that was becoming more and more frequent.

“Yes, um...” you said confused, unable to get one of those eternal conversations, a smile that lasted longer, something from Donna that wasn't a tired sigh. “Do you have more orders than usual?”

“No,” she replied curtly, leaving the glass on the table and finishing her soup.

You smiled fakely nodding, feeling frustrated by these incipient slights.

“Oh, um, okay…” you sighed, deciding that maybe it would be better to remain silent.

“I've been very late, (Y/N), and it may have something to do with your insistence of wanting to go for a walk,” she said, with a soft but internally hard tone.

“Don't you like walking with me? The walk last week seemed very romantic to me,” you said, biting your lip and reaching out to take her hand, caressing it gently.

Luckily, that time she didn't push it away, in fact, reluctantly, she briefly returned your caress. Her face, once again, showed a tired smile.

“I like walking with you, but I'm neglecting my work,” Donna said, taking her hand away and sighing before getting up from the table. “I'm really tired today, (Y/N), I'm going to bed.”

“Wait, Donna,” you interrupted, getting up too and grabbing her wrist, turning the lady slowly. “The, the cake, aren't you going to try it?”

“Ugh,” she protested, frowning and rolling her eye. “Maybe tomorrow, put it in the fridge.”

“But Donna…” you said with sad eyes, comically pulling her hand. “I've spent three hours in the kitchen, I made it just for you…”

“I didn't ask you, (Y/N),” she said, shaking her head, looking at you in annoyance and taking her hand away from yours. “That you've spent three hours cooking it's not my problem.”

“Donna…” you sighed again, with an even sadder look. “But, but it's your favorite… I…” you stammered on the verge of sobbing, your eyes slowly filling with tears. “Donna…”

The lady in black sighed, gently caressing your face with a more relaxed expression, lifting your chin.

“Va bene, tesoro…” she finally said, approaching your lips and kissing them coldly, sitting back down. “Serve me a piece, but a small one.”

You smiled happily, jumping for joy and kissing her again repeatedly until her hands stopped you.

“Lasciami, lasciami, per favore,” the lady protested, waving her hands effusively while you walked away with shy giggles.

“A small piece…” you murmured as you cut the cake, serving her the exact amount she wanted and which she accepted with a tired look. “Come on, try it,” you said insistently, serving yourself another piece.

The lady tasted it reluctantly, savoring it and nodding slowly.

“How is it? Say something,” you said enthusiastically, checking for yourself that you had done a good job, significantly better than other times.

“It's very good, (Y/N),” Lady Beneviento commented, quickly devouring her piece and standing up again. “Thank you.”

“You're welcome…” you sighed with a loving smile. “But, but, is it sugary enough?”

“I said it's good,” Donna interrupted with a stern voice. “Why don't you pick this up?”

“But, I… Well, okay, okay,” you said, your smile fading little by little, your heart slightly hurt but at the same time resilient. “Then we could watch a movie and…”

“How many times do you want me to tell you? I'm very tired, I'm going to bed, you can do whatever you want,” Donna said, turning on her heels and leaving you alone and open-mouthed.

No matter how harsh her words were, you accepted them with a half- smile. Sighing, you began to clear the table and, unwillingly, you thought about what your life was like just a few months ago, how different it was.

Meeting Donna Beneviento was a coincidence, one of those coincidences that mark the path of your life. The youngest of the four Lords was also the most mysterious, the most dangerous.

You never cared about danger, or risks. You were a young girl, kind-hearted, what harm could do to talk to that woman in black, to help her when her doll got stuck in some bushes?

If you do good things, good things will happen to you, or so your family said. They weren't wrong at all. The best thing that ever happened to you in life was meeting her, learning to see the light in the darkness of her presence.

The whole village feared her, considered her a terrible and cruel monster. But none of that appeared in your feelings as you got a little closer, as you got to know her a little better.

Lady Beneviento was a sick woman, self-conscious about the deformity of her face, about what the gift of the Black Gods caused in her body. She kept herself isolated, completely alone. A hermit, a ghost, someone no one wanted to get close to.

But you appeared in her life, you smiled at her, you saw her kind side, her words of affection, her shy laugh… None of those were characteristics of a monster, and her appearance, of course, was not one either.

Donna was a beautiful woman, no scar, no change could make you think otherwise. Without expecting it, but at the same time wishing for it, love arose between you.

It was a sudden, romantic, wild love… It could even seem that the romance novels you read so much had come to life in your own reality. Love, caresses, whispers, passion, hugs… Everything formed your relationship, a comfortable one, one that you finally felt good about, one that you didn’t want to disappear.

Lady Beneviento loved you, she adored you, even those overly strong feelings made her behave in a slightly possessive way. You never gave it importance, you knew you didn't have to, you had already decided.

You had decided what smile you wanted to accompany you every morning, what warm body you wanted to melt with every night, what perfume you had chosen to cloud your senses.

Love continued and your relationship was stable. It had been more than a year since you decided to take that important step, stop visiting her and stay with her forever. Everything was perfect, idyllic, at least until a couple of months ago.

The love, those smiles, those caresses, the hugs, the passion… Everything was fading away little by little. Donna was the same and at the same time she was becoming someone different. It was increasingly difficult to get a smile out of her, to get her to return the hundreds of kisses you gave. You didn't want to think like that but… It seemed like you were bothering her, that she had gotten tired of you.

But that wasn't possible, she still told you that she loved you, that she liked you being by her side. It wasn't laziness, it was something else… It was as if the dark part of her mind had taken control, as if she saw you as a nuisance, a distraction that kept her from her old way of being.

There were no more kisses, no more caresses, no more hugs, only smiles, very brief kisses, sighs of weariness and cold words. You, of course, couldn't be the one to blame. From the first moment you didn't do anything that didn't make her happy.

You cooked her favorite dishes, you learned recipes that she told you about, you cleaned the house, you kept everything perfect for her, so a ‘thank you’ would come out of her lips, so those kisses would return.

None of that happened. Donna seemed to have abandoned you, even when she was by your side. It was increasingly difficult for her to talk to you. It was almost as if you didn't exist. But you never questioned it, you simply got used to that new behavior.

You couldn't think that Donna didn't love y. You knew that wasn't the case. Spoiling her, showering her with compliments, with romantic gestures, was your way of desperately clinging to a jaded love that you had already grown accustomed to, until little by little, sadness began to haunt you in your increasingly frequent moments alone.

You would do anything for her, always, but you began to wonder if she would do the same for you.

You picked up the plates, put away that delicious cake and got ready to get into bed next to her. You didn't expect her to greet you with a smile, not even with that mischievous look she had always looked at you with at bedtime. No, she had already fallen asleep.

“Donna, my love,” you said softly, getting into bed next to her, kissing her cheek.

The lady in black, as usual, growled annoyed, turning her back to you.

“Weren't you watching a movie?” she asked with a tired voice, comically covering herself with the sheets.

You smiled and shook your head, moving closer to her ear.

“It's not fun without you,” you said, biting her earlobe and laughing amused. “Hey, Donna, I feel like making love…” you whispered, lowering your hands and pulling her waist.

The doll maker moved her body to make you move away. You, already knowing that impatient gesture, did it.

“Not today,” she said, turning her head away from your rain of kisses. “Another day, (Y/N)”

“Okay…” you sighed sadly, leaning on the pillow with another controlled sob.

Donna, who was always terribly passionate, fierce in love, in possessing you in a carnal way whenever possible, now didn’t want to do it, she just made stupid excuses.

It wasn’t the most important thing for you, but you knew how much she enjoyed taking you.

You did everything you could to keep the passion alive, to hold on to that relationship, but you felt that the weight on your shoulders was too intense, that there was no one on the other side to help you handle that burden.

It was the effort to not extinguish love, an effort that only you made and that would soon make you sink into a depression you could already feel calling you from the depths of your soul.

You tried to forget those moments, to cuddle up next to her as you did every night. Not even that seemed to be acceptable to the brunette, who growled again, removing your hands from her body.

“Leave me alone,” she whispered furiously.

“I'm sorry,” you said, with a voice eaten away by the tears that were beginning to fall down your cheeks. “I'm sorry if I bothered you.”

Donna sighed after a moment of silence, sitting up and touching your shoulder.

“Come here,” she whispered, turning around and grabbing your waist gently, as if she wanted not to be that cruel, as if deep down, she was also noticing your incipient sadness.

“Thank you…” you sighed with a sincere smile, approaching her body, letting her surround you with her warmth.

The slights hardly mattered to you. Donna always did something that told your heart not to stop beating, that you could continue to be terribly in love with the lady in black. The question was simple: How long could you stay that way?

“Oh, I almost forgot,” Donna said with a different voice, pressing you against her body. You glanced at her out of the corner of your eye, enjoying her warmth. “Tomorrow Alcina will come to have lunch.”

“Tomorrow? But Donna… Tomorrow is the day of our meal on the river,” you protested, playing erratically with her fingers that were clinging to your waist.

“Mm…” she sighed in a way that indicated she was rolling her eye. “Leave it for another day, will you? I don't like her coming either but I'm afraid I have no other choice. She often invites us to her castle.”

“Yeah, well, you never want to go anyway,” you sighed, with an anger that was beginning to be noticeable in your voice. Donna, as always, didn't give it any importance.

“I'd rather be here, with you,” the lady said in an apparently romantic way.

“You're not with me, you spend the day with your dolls, you even…” you said furiously, turning around and crossing your arms.

“I'm with you all day long.”

“Okay, whatever you say, Donna,” you said, turning around again, removing her warm hands from your body. “Good night.”

“Buonanotte…” the lady whispered, kissing you quickly on the cheek and turning around as well.

If you were told a few months ago that your bodies no longer intertwined at bedtime… You would probably think it was a dirty lie.

The next day started like any other. You devoted all your energy to preparing a perfect breakfast that Donna no longer appreciated. The kisses under the shower were no longer intense, they were brief, half-hearted.

Maybe it was your imagination, or maybe not.

While you were cooking a delicious menu for your unexpected guest, you asked yourself that question, one that you avoided asking yourself and that you could no longer contain: did Donna really love you?

“Is all for me, dear?” Lady Dimitrescu asked, surprised by each of the details that you meticulously prepared.

You, pleased by her words, smiled sincerely. It had really been a long time since you heard Donna say something like that.

“Everything looks great, little bird,” Alcina murmured, while you sat next to Donna, who was covered with her black veil, as always when there was someone other than you.

“Thank you, my lady,” you said smiling, pouring yourself a glass of wine.

“My lady… Little girl… We are almost family…” the lady in white sighed, stabbing a piece of meat with her fork. “Call me Alcina.”

“Alcina, yes, of course,” you said kindly.

The three of you began to eat in silence until a satisfying grunt bounced off the old walls of the mansion.

“Oh, dear… It's spectacular,” the vampire said, pointing at you with her fork. “Mashed potatoes with gravy?”

“Yes, well, it's a recipe I used to make,” you commented, destroying the silence that usually accompanied you. “Donna likes it…”

“I see,” Alcina said, nodding with a seductive look. “Donna, you are very lucky.”

“Mm,” the veiled lady murmured, eating in silence, looking at you briefly through her black cloth.

“Mm?” her sister mocked. “Please, not in a million years would I be able to get one of my maids to cook like this.”

“Oh,” you said, laughing amused and blushing at that appreciation. “I love cooking, besides, Donna has taught me a lot of delicious recipes from her country.”

“I can't compete against that, huh?” the tall lady joked, arching her eyebrows. “Um, I see the house is a bit… different,” she commented, observing the cracked walls. “Oh, Donna, don’t tell me you’ve finally lost that absurd allergy to cleaning.”

“No, (Y/N) takes care of the house,” the woman in black said, with a rough and disinterested voice.

“Does she?” Alcina asked, narrowing her eyes and looking at you with a wicked smile. “Do you have a sister?”

“I’m afraid I haven’t, Alcina,” you said kindly, serving the lady another glass of wine. “I like to clean. I love seeing your sister happy.”

“Wow… You are lucky,” Dimitrescu murmured, now looking at her taciturn sister.

“I guess so,” Donna whispered, taking the bottle of wine from you in an unpleasant manner and leaving it on the table.

“Mm, I see…” Dimitrescu murmured again, rolling her eyes. “(Y/N), would you be interested in working at the castle?”

“No, she’s not interested,” Donna said, angrily hitting the table with her fists, scaring you a bit. “(Y/N), dessert.”

The expression of the lady in white cooled and she frowned, watching you as, in an almost perfect way, you slid the knife through the cake you made the day before, the one Donna failed to appreciate.

“Cheesecake with raspberry jam,” the tall woman commented, studying the shape of that culinary delight.

“The jam is homemade,” you explained, serving another piece to Donna, who looked at you through her veil, you didn't know how. “Do you want this one or do you want a slightly bigger one, my love?”

“This one,” she said curtly, taking the plate from your hands roughly. “Em, grazie.”

“You're welcome, darling,” you said in a tender voice, embarrassing your girlfriend with a few sudden kisses on the cheek she pushed away with a brusque growl.

“Lasciami estare, cazzo,” the lady in black hissed, pushing you unpleasantly, under the watchful gaze of her older sister.

“I'm sorry,” you said with a tender smile. “Maybe you'd like a coffee, you want it with milk and no sugar, right, darling?”

“Yes, yes, go, let me breathe,” the lady in black said, moving her hands in an unpleasant way.

You sighed but nodded, looking at the lady in white.

“How…?”

“Black, dear, with two sugar cubes,” Alcina interrupted, with a knowing smile, winking at you.

“Great, I'll bring it right away,” you said helpfully, picking up the plates and going down to the kitchen.

“I want coffee too!” Angie shrieked, tugging at your dress.

“You can't have coffee, you can't have anything, in fact,” you said amused, stroking the doll's head, who laughed amusedly.

None of Donna's actions seemed strange to you. You were already used to it and... Unfortunately, you stopped giving it the importance it deserved.

In an elegant way you put the three cups on a tray, going back up to the dining room. When you heard a sharp voice, you stopped dead, still unseen.

“You're stupid, Donna, stupid,” Lady Dimitrescu snapped in a stern, dark voice. “Keep behaving like that and you will suffer the consequences.”

“It's none of your business, Alcina,” you heard Donna hiss, her voice seemingly upset.

“Mm, maybe, but I'll tell you one thing, dear… If you don't take care of that beautiful garden… well, let's just say that I'd really like to do it,” the eldest Lord said, earning an angry growl from your girlfriend, who stood up from her chair.

“What are you implying? Porca puttana! Get out of my house!” Donna shrieked, pointing to the door.

“Don't yell, little sister… Instead of getting mad, take my advice… Otherwise, I'll be the one to take care of that flower as it deserves. And I think that seeing your attitude, it won't be too hard for me.”

“Fuori!” Donna shouted again.

She seemed very furious, out of her mind. It was time to approach her.

“Sorry, I…” you said timidly, lowering your head and entering the room, earning a seductive look from the lady in white.

“That coffee smells delicious, dear…” she murmured, picking up her ridiculously small cup. “A perfect coffee next to a perfect young lady…”

“Tha, thank you Alcina,” you said with blushing cheeks, approaching the brunette. “Donna, honey, are you okay? Are you having a crisis?”

“No,” she answered, grumbling and letting herself fall into the chair.

“I thought you were arguing,” you murmured, caressing Donna's cheek through her veil, noticing how the rage burned on her skin. “Should I get your medicine, honey?”

“No,” Donna repeated, making you look at her listlessly and then at Alcina, to whom you bowed apologetically.

“Forgive her, sometimes… It happens to her,” you said, apologizing for your girlfriend's attitude, one that was sometimes unpredictable.

Getting furious for talking about a garden… It was very typical of Donna, of course.

“Mm… I know, don't worry, I forgive her,” Alcina said with an implicitly mocking tone. “The question is… Will she forgive me?”

“Stupida…” Donna growled, mysteriously approaching you, taking your hand and kissing the back of it through the black fabric, a gesture that surprised you. “The coffee is delicious, (Y/N).”

“Thank you, darling… Are you calmer?” you said smiling at the compliment, one that you missed terribly. The lady nodded without letting your hand go.

When Lady Dimitrescu left and Donna got rid of her veil, you could see her frown, a strange expression for which you had no explanation.

“Well… It seems that everything went well,” you said sighing, finishing clearing the table and smiling at the brunette, who had her gaze on the floor while playing with her veil.

“(Y/N),” she said with a hoarse voice, approaching you and putting a hand on your shoulder. “I would like to tell you something.”

“Of course,” you said smiling, stacking the plates and cups.

“I love you, you know that, right?” the lady said with a different tone, sad, which made you turn around slowly, grabbing her hand and looking at her with concern.

“Me too, Donna, of course I know… Come on, don't be mad. Alcina just messed with your garden,” you said absentmindedly, looking out the window. “Hey, maybe when it's less cold we could fix it.”

“Fix it?” she asked, frowning in confusion. “The garden?”

“Yes, well… Okay, it's impossible to compete with the castle but I'm sure you and I can make it something similar,” you said with that same passive tone, without thinking clearly, without giving importance to that absurd discussion.

“Do you like the castle?” the lady asked suddenly. “Do you like it more than this house?”

“Oh, no, not at all,” you said, picking up a stack of plates. “Alcina can say whatever she wants, but… I love this house, and the garden, I wouldn't change it for anything.”

“Really? Are you serious?” she asked again, holding your hands very tightly, as if she was scared of something.

“Um, Donna, are you sure you're okay?” you asked worriedly, passing a hand over her sweaty forehead. “Oh, my love… You're sweating, let me finish picking this up and I'll prepare a hot bath for you.”

“No, no… Let me, let me pick it up and… And I'll prepare a bath for you… With… With those bath salts that you like,” Donna said, taking the plates from your hand abruptly, with a trembling voice.

You opened your eyes, surprised by that suddenly different attitude. You felt confused, disoriented. There was no doubt that the strange conversation with Alcina had something to do with it but… You didn't know in what way.

“Mm, I think it's a great idea but…” you said with shining eyes, blinking in a petulant and even seductive way.

“But,” the lady said, looking at you with a strange coldness, darkening her eye.

“Only if you come with me…”

That hot, romantic bath started a confusing phase of your relationship. You couldn't explain why, the reasons that led Donna to change her attitude towards you, but you weren't going to complain either.

Yes, she was still the same grumpy one as always, the one who was overwhelmed by your excessive affection and caresses, but she faced it in a different way, as if she were fighting with herself, fighting to change.

Even so, that wasn't enough for your demons to stop harassing you, for the doubts you had about the feelings of the lady in black to disappear.

Yes, you were happier to be able to talk to her again, to receive many more smiles, for her to accept your kisses but... But you didn't feel that it was enough, you felt it forced, as if someone was guiding the brunette to behave that way.

What you really didn't expect was what happened one cold morning, one in which you didn't read romance books anymore. No matter how hard Donna tried. Your relationship was still far from resembling those love novels.

“The door, there's a knock on the door!” Angie interrupted your ramblings, shouting in a shrill voice and waving her arms to get your attention. “Hey, silly!”

“Ugh, I'm coming,” you said, getting up from the couch lazily. As expected, there was no sign of Donna. That hadn't changed. Her dolls were still her absolute priority.

You opened the door to find something unexpected, a villager holding what looked like a bouquet of beautiful flowers, your favorites, in fact.

“Um... What do you want?” you asked, surprised by the presence of that stranger at your door.  That a random villager had been able to cross Donna's territory was something that wasn’t frequent.

“Miss (Y/N)?” the man asked, handing you that bouquet of roses. “This is for you.”

You took it with a frown, bringing the flowers to your nose, slowly inhaling their scent.

“For me? From whom?” you asked, smiling at the beauty of those carefully placed flowers. There didn't seem to be any card, nothing to tell you where they came from.

“I don't know,” the man said, shrugging and turning around. “I'm sorry, but I wouldn't like to stay here for long…”

Before you could ask another question, the man disappeared, walking quickly down the path, surely scared to know where he was.

You stood rooted to the spot, staring intently at the bouquet of flowers, looking for a possible culprit for that romantic act.

Of course, Donna seemed the main suspect but… Something told you that you were wrong. She was a romantic woman, or at least she was for a while, but she never gave you flowers, she never went that far, she never had a similar detail.

No, they couldn't be from Donna. You were quite clear about that.

“Who was it, tesoro?” the lady asked when you entered the house again, startling you. You weren't expecting her presence.

“Oh, um... Well...” you said nervously, showing her the flowers.

“Wow... They're beautiful,” she said with a smile, running her fingers over the petals, looking at you out of the corner of her eye. “Don't you think?”

If you had any doubts about the origin of those flowers, you had just cleared them up. They weren't from Donna.

“I wonder who it could have been…” you murmured thoughtfully, smelling the flowers again “Mm, they smell really nice…”

“Um, yes, I…” Donna said stuttering, looking at you confused.

“Can you imagine that I have a secret admirer?” you asked amused, finding the idea more and more exciting in your head. After all, no one had ever sent you flowers, no one. “How exciting, isn't it?”

The most sincere smile you had ever put on lit up your face as you played with those beautiful flowers, finding a privileged place for them in the mansion. Donna followed you nervously, looking over your shoulder as you put them away in an empty vase, laughing amused and excited by that gift.

“Wow, I really didn't expect that,” you sighed, shaking your head. “It's strange that they didn't leave a note, isn't it? I'd really like to know who it was...” you said in a sweet voice, your heart beating fast from the excitement of receiving that anonymous gift, of feeling that there was someone out there who appreciated you.

“W-would you like to know?” Donna asked, with a broken voice, putting a hand on your shoulders.

You rolled your eyes, sensing a sudden attack of jealousy and took her hand, kissing the back of it briefly.

“Not again, Donna,” you whispered tired of her jealousy, of her possessiveness. “I don't know who it was and if I knew I wouldn't tell you either.”

“But, but, (Y/N)...” she murmured, shaking her head, struggling with her words to say something. “It's just that I...”

“What's the problem with people sending me flowers?” you asked with your hands on your hips, with the prejudice that the lady had gotten angry and was thinking about how to get revenge on that stranger.

You weren't being unreasonable. It wasn't the first time Lady Beneviento got mad.

“T-Tesoro...” she stammered, taking your hand.

You could only think about that attitude, about her lack of attention, you couldn't even think about what she was going to say to you.

“Shh, quiet, Donna,” you said seriously but mockingly, putting a finger on her lips to stop her complaining. “Don't get jealous, okay? They can send me all the flowers they want, it doesn't mean anything.”

“Oh, um, okay...” she finally said, with a tired sigh, looking at you out of the corner of her eye. She seemed really worried.

“I'm going to make you something delicious to eat,” you said with euphoric joy, kissing her quickly and walking happily towards the elevator.

 She didn't kiss you back. She just stared at that vase of flowers, shaking her head.

“Silly Donna…” Angie hissed, tugging at her dress. “What's wrong with you?”

“Nothing, Angie, it's better this way.”

You were too excited to pay attention to that conversation between Donna and Angie, and continued on your way quietly.

Those flowers… Yes, it had been a good way to start the day, no matter who it was, but at the same time, you couldn't stop thinking about it.

A lot of faces came to your mind and you dismissed each one of them. It couldn't be Donna. She had gotten very nervous, probably wondering what stupid vermin dared to seduce what was hers. No, it couldn't have been her. Then…

A name popped into your head, one you could sense, that had everything it took to become the main suspect. Alcina Dimitrescu.

It was pretty obvious that the lady in white had some sort of fixation on you, and even more so after that awkward lunch. Obviously, you weren't going to say anything to Donna, that would make her even angrier, and it was better that way.

“It's delicious, amore mio,”the lady in black commented when it was finally time to eat, with a radiant smile, one that reminded you of those first months. It was a shame that your mind was so focused on that flower thing that you didn't even notice.

“Oh, thank you, Donna,” you said with a sigh, with a smile that didn't belong to the kind words of the lady in black, but to that mysterious person who showered you with flowers.

“You put pepper on it, like I suggested,” she commented again, with a tender smile that you did see, which you returned without thinking as you nodded.

“I like to pay attention to the things you tell me, darling,” you said, downplaying it.

The lady in black smiled again, glancing at the vase.

“Wait, you're not being nice because that whole flower thing, are you?” you said with a more serious tone, crossing your arms.

“What? No, no, I just…” she said with a sincere look, shaking her head. “I, I like to tell you nice things….”

“Well, I like you doing it,” you said with a haughty tone, knowing for sure that this slightly more exaggerated attitude was the consequence of the appearance of a new player on the board, of a competitor who seemed to want to claim your love.

Donna continued to change little by little, seeking your warm body at night, whispering in your ear, kissing you relentlessly…

You could consider it a tremendous improvement, a wish that you had been asking for a long time ago fulfilled but unfortunately, you didn't see it that way.

The flowers could have been an isolated incident, an exception in your boring life, but it wasn't. Every day, every morning more flowers arrived at your door, beautiful bouquets that occasionally began to be accompanied by a note, a love note.

Your chest beat with excitement with each new bouquet, with each surprise from that secret admirer. You were excited, intrigued to feel that you provoked so many sensations in someone.

Each bouquet was accompanied by a good deed from Donna. A romantic dinner, walks in the woods... Everything coincided dangerously. That made you think that you weren’t wrong, that her jealousy was forcing the lady in black to become a prodigious lover.

There shouldn't be any problem, it was what you were looking for, to return to the romantic and affectionate beginnings of your relationship, but you knew that Donna would never change simply because she had realized she had neglected you, no, so many months of contempt couldn’t change overnight. That tender and romantic attitude had an explanation: jealousy.

Yes, that was the reason, jealousy. The appearance of that mysterious lover must have forced the brunette to love you, to pay attention to you, to distract your constant thoughts and take them away from that person of the flowers.

On the other hand, you were still in love with Donna, hopelessly in love. Receiving displays of affection from an unknown person was encouraging but you would never change your feelings.

But that she wasn’t able to love you as you wanted, by her own will and not for a mere territorial and primary issue simply frustrated you.

“Let's see, let's see...” you said excitedly picking up your daily bouquet.

On that occasion, it came with a small note, which you opened when you confirmed that there was no one around you.

Dear (Y/N)

I hope these flowers help you understand how crazy I am about you. You are the most beautiful girl in the world. You are the only one who would overshadow the beauty of these flowers. No flower could compare to the light of your gaze, their smell cannot compare to the perfume of your skin.

You are my most beautiful flower.

“Aww,” you murmured, biting your lip, reading that elegant calligraphy over and over again.

Of course, your secret admirer was quite the poet. That person always managed to make you blush.

Luckily, the heels of the lady in black alerted you, giving you time to put the note away and pretend to place the flowers in another vase next to the others.

“Ciao, tesoro…” Donna whispered, hugging you around the waist and planting a soft kiss on your cheek. “More flowers?”

“Looks like it,” you said amused, grabbing the hands that held your body, letting yourself be carried by Donna's gentle swaying. “Isn't it early for you to come up from the workshop?”

“Mm, yes,” she said, kissing your cheek and resting her head on your shoulder. “I was looking forward to be with you…”

“Oh, well, that's… Great,” you sighed, your voice taken over by the words in the note and not by the love the lady was showing you. “What did you have in mind, darling?”

“I thought I could make you some food, you know, some of your favorite dishes,” she commented, dancing with your body, turning you around with an elegant twist of her hand. “Do you fancy it?”

“Your cooking? I always do,” you said, laughing amused by the tickling her lips did on your neck. “Donna…”

“Then we could, I don't know, go for a romantic walk… You and I… The sunset…” Donna whispered in your ear, causing you to blush even more.

“You and I? Without Angie?” you asked suspiciously, frowning.

The lady nodded, stealing a quick kiss on your lips, caressing your cheek and looking at you intensely, as if she was looking for something, something you didn't know.

“You and I, amore mio…” the lady sighed, running her thumb over your lips and making you purr seductively. “After that we could watch a movie, whichever you want…”

“It's a perfect plan, Donna, I'd love to,” you said with a tender voice, letting yourself be completely seduced by her gaze, kissing her slowly.

“Well, well… I have to finish a doll but… After that I'll be all yours,” Donna said, pinching your cheek and pulling away slowly. “Leave those stupid flowers and change your clothes, I want you to be beautiful.”

“Um, okay,” you said blushing, moving your ankle in a childish way while she looked at you with a tender smile before disappearing from your sight.

You sighed with nostalgia, thinking about that new and desired attitude, looking at the flowers. Of course, whoever it was also had feelings for you but you, after a few terrible moments of doubt, cleared your heart or rather, you let it clear itself.

You loved Donna. You loved her with all your soul. Not even all the flowers, all the notes in the world would change that, ever.

Yes, it could be that the lady in black had returned to her loving and kind self because of the danger of someone taking her treasure but... That ferocity only demonstrated one thing: a pure, intense love, one that would be capable of bringing down the moon for you if you asked.

Compared to her smile, her kisses, her words in Italian, the flowers were nothing but weeds and those words were nothing but ink on paper.

In your head, the name Alcina Dimitrescu danced incessantly. Without a doubt, she was the one who admired you, you were not involved with anyone else, it had to be her. You couldn’t betray Donna, you would never do it.

 She could never win your love, never.

That statement sailed confidently through your mind, causing you to make a radical decision.

No, you didn’t want more flowers, you didn’t want more love letters, you only wanted Donna, no one else.

Searching through the old address book next to the phone, you found the castle's number, dialing it decisively. Yes, you loved Donna, only Donna. It took a lot of flowers for you to realize it.

“Dimitrescu Castle…” Alcina's tired, velvety voice answered on the other end of the phone.

“Alcina? I'm, I'm (Y/N),” you said nervously. After all, she was also dangerous.

“Oh, (Y/N), it's nice to hear your voice,” she answered with a sinister laugh. “What's wrong, dear? Don't tell me that Donna has done something bad to you.”

“What? No, it's not that, it's…” you said nervously, annoyed by that horrible accusation. “I have, I have to talk to you.”

“Mm, talk, little bird…” Alcina murmured, with a strange sigh.

“Okay, um, I don't really know how to tell you but…” you started, looking around, trying to make sure there were no unwanted listeners.

“You're pregnant… Oh, Donna, you damn irresponsible brat, I knew that…” Alcina said, interrupting and making you growl more and more nervous.

“No, no,” you insisted, losing your patience. “Okay, I think I'll get to the point…”

“Yes, dear, that's how I like it”

“Look, I don't have feelings for you… No, I'm not interested in you, I mean… I like your company but, nothing, nothing else… I love Donna, I love her with all my soul and… No matter how many flowers you send me, my heart isn't going to change, so…”

“Excuse me? What are you talking about, little bird? Flowers?” Alcina asked, laughing in surprise, something that confused you.

“Y-Yes, the, the flowers you send me at home… You know…” you said, stumbling over your words, with your heart in your throat.

“Dear, I have no idea what you're talking about…” Alcina murmured. “I'd love to send you flowers but I'm afraid I have nothing to do with that.”

“No? But, but…” you stammered, terribly confused. “It wasn't you?”

“Mm no,” she said laughing. “Flowers? Please, I'm not that cheesy,” the lady in white mocked.

“Shit…” you whispered covering the microphone, dying of embarrassment. “So who… Who did it?”

“I'm afraid I don't know, dear… Who do you think it did?” she asked laughing, as if you were joking.

You shook your head, your whole body shaking.

“I don't know…” you murmured, scratching the back of your neck. “Sorry, sorry for bothering you… Bye,” you said hanging up the phone, burying your face in your hands. “Oh… But who?”

Your head was confused, blocked, you weren’t able to know who this secret admirer was, there was no one who could be involved in this matter, you only related to Donna and she simply couldn’t be.

Tired and nervous, you let yourself fall on the sofa. If the flowers were not from Alcina they lost all that romanticism. That there was a stranger who wanted to flirt with you was something that you began to see as disturbing.

Looking everywhere, your eyes were fixed on one of the shelves, where a book seemed to stand out. You had a terrible obsession with order and you got up to put it away, realizing that there was a paper sticking out of it.

“Mm?” you murmured curiously, opening the book, a book written in Italian, a paper written in the same language, full of crossed out words, of short sentences that you began to observe.

That handwriting seemed familiar to you but, after trying to read those sentences, those paragraphs, a light lit up in your head. Slowly, you searched in your pocket for that letter, that love note that came with the flowers.

There was no doubt; the letters, the shape of that calligraphy matched completely, as did the last thing written on the paper, the same love letter in another language.

“Gods... Donna...” you said, covering your mouth with your hand, with the unexpected revelation that somehow, you already knew.

Donna sent you the flowers, she was always behind those words of love, it was her all the time and she never told you. A romantic gesture that you didn't expect from her was the perfect excuse for Donna to continue with her game.

Why had she denied her involvement in something so beautiful? You would have to ask her.

With shaky legs, you went down to the doll workshop, crumpling the paper in your hand, with a unique smile, with your heart beating faster than ever. Love was in your veins, in your body, in your face, the love for that lonely lady who sent you flowers even though she already had you, even though you didn't even know she was doing it.

“Donna, darling,” you said in a sweet voice, interrupting the lady's sewing, who gestured for you to come closer.

“I'll be done soon, tesoro…” she whispered, not looking at you, focused on that small garment.

You closed your eyes, approaching slowly and taking a breath.

“You are the most beautiful flower,” you whispered in her ear, leaning towards her and savoring each of the words.

Donna didn't look at you, but stopped sewing, sighing deeply.

“It's been you all along, hasn't it?” you asked in a soft voice, guiding her head to look at you.

Her cheeks were flushed, her chest moving quickly. There was no doubt.

“(Y/N),” she said dryly, not daring to look at your face.

“You sent me the flowers… It was you, my love…” you repeated, cupping her face in your hands. Her eye looked sad, and with an effort, the lady in black nodded slowly. “Donna, darling… Why…? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Io…” she murmured, avoiding the brightness of your eyes, leaving the sewing to grab your wrists, which were still clinging to her face. “I tried but… You didn’t listen to me. You thought I was jealous and… I, I didn’t…”

You silenced her stammer with a passionate kiss, with the moisture of your lips impregnating hers, loving, caressing her mouth with yours with passion, with pure love.

“Donna, my love… My Donna…” you whispered, running a hand through her black hair while she looked at you between sadness and shame. “I thought you didn’t…”

“I know,” she interrupted. “I know you didn’t think it was me.”

“No, I…”

“(Y/N), I beg for your forgiveness,” Donna said, holding your hands, standing up, looking at you now, straight on. “I was stupid… I, I treated you terribly… I neglected you.”

“Donna, well, that's true but…” you said, thinking about those horrible months.

“I don't want to lose you. To lose you would kill me, (Y/N)…” she sighed, caressing your cheek. “Y-You're right, I was, I was jealous… When I saw that Alcina was interested in you I understood that… That I could lose you….”

You nodded softly for her to continue.

“I've never known what love is, what it means to love a person and… I, I thought you could… I don't know, (Y/N), I was sure that you wouldn't abandon me and… I was selfish, I thought I had you and…”

“Shh, it doesn't matter,” you whispered, placing your hands on her waist.

“Yes it does, you give everything for me and I... I have despised you,” she said, embarrassed by her behavior. “I beg you to forgive me, please... I don't know... I don't know how to love, I... I saw you so happy when you received the flowers that I continued, I continued with the lie just to see your smile...”

You silenced the lady again with a kiss on her lips, seeing in her eye the apology, the regret, the love.

“Mm, well, it seems to me that the fact you let me think that someone is sending me flowers just to see me happy is very romantic, Donna...”

“I can't promise you that I can change, I'm not right and... I... I only know that I plan to love you every day and that you are... You are the only thing that gives me the strength to continue,” she said whispering, kissing you slowly.

“Do me a favor, will you?” you asked in a seductive tone, making a smile form on her lips. “Keep sending me flowers…”

After that penetrating whisper, the kisses returned, more and more passionate, wilder.

“No flower could ever say how much I love you, amore mio…” Donna whispered, running her hands over your body, appreciating it, exploring it, memorizing it with her fingers, as if she were afraid of forgetting it.

“Then show it to me, right here, right now…” you whispered again, walking backwards until your back hit the work table, dragging the brunette's body with you, inevitably drawing it into your kisses.

“Yes…”she said, admiring you with her loving gaze, with the caresses of her hands on your body, on your chest, fighting against the rush of your kisses, which began to fill her skin with love.

Little by little the words were nothing but incomprehensible babbling in a tangle of panting, of passion, of bites and hot, wet, anxious kisses.

Your bodies danced to the same beat, to the same rhythm, rubbing against each other, letting the friction return, that contact both of you craved to warm your passion.

The panting slowly mutated, turning into moans when her firm hands lifted your body, raising it onto the table, making those pieces of porcelain that you considered enemies, tremble.

It was like a mockery, those moans were a reminder of superiority towards the dolls, an act of lust in a sacred place for Donna, which would soon cease to be so.

You closed your eyes, pleased by the touch of her erection between your legs, by the excitement of those forbidden, wild, messy kisses. You didn't want to stop or think, you just wanted Donna, you wanted an animal love, a physical and obscene declaration of the love she felt for you. That was better than a hundred flowers.

“(Y/N)… Ti amo…” the lady whispered, looking into your eyes, seeking approval for her hands to pull down your underwear. “I want to make love to you…”

“I want you to,” you whispered, panting with her kisses, hot from her soft touch, from her increasingly furious caresses, from her nails scratching the bare skin of your legs.

She nodded, releasing her shaft after letting the clothes disappear from between your legs, entering you hastily, but accompanied by soft whispers, words of love that you had only heard in your fantasies for a long time, that you only read in your books.

“Donna…” you moaned as you noticed your walls blessed with her erection, the moisture that bathed her body while yours embraced her tirelessly, preventing her from daring to abandon you again.

The silence was no longer awkward, but a grateful companion to your loving glances, to an intense eye contact while the brunette thrust into you in a soft, intense but at the same time romantic way, enjoying the soft and slow contact.

Your body contracted, stretched, tensed. In your head you saw all those notes of love. You felt those words, those movements as a complete declaration, as an apology for her unfair behavior.

“My love…” you moaned, without blinking, letting passion tense your body before a quick orgasm deformed your walls, without her losing her romantic gaze, her movements, her soft caresses. “Oh, Donna!” you screamed when those involuntary movements became unbearable, forcing you to throw yourself into her kisses, to hang on her body while she held you without abandoning you.

Donna didn't say anything, she just moaned and sighed, looking and holding you with her nails digging into your skin when, with a sharp moan, she released herself inside you, completing that apology, that act of reconciliation, of true love...

“Honey...” you sighed as you felt her wet heat fill you, as you felt her seed claiming you as she hugged you, as she caught her breath without stopping caressing you.

“I will never neglect you again, I promise, my flower...”

[senualothbrok]

Helloooo!

Quick question: do you think Gale has always been a sex god (just as he’s innately good at magic) or do you think he acquired his legendary skills over time?

Hello friend! <3 I have thought about this a fair bit (in fact there is a scene in Promise where Aurora asks Gale the exact same thing). It's a great question because when it comes to romance/sex, Gale presents as a fascinating combination of a flustered bashful dork, who awkwardly withdraws the first time you express interest in him, and an absolute rizzard who is not coy about his desires, seduces you with the Faerunite version of the kama sutra, and takes you on an astral gang bang on your first date (if you choose to go astral rather than 'old ways' in Act 2). Gale may have a predisposition to being a beast in bed - in the sense that he is a thoughtful, generous person, who throws himself wholeheartedly into everything he does, and gives his whole self to the people he loves. Physical attributes aside (length/girth/stamina, and all the rest), those qualities are what makes someone a good lover - the sensitivity to what gives your lover pleasure, the drive to learn and improve in skill and attunement. Putting someone else's needs above your own. Gale definitely has a tendency towards these things within his character (sometimes to his own detriment). You've made a comparison with Gale's innate mastery of the Weave, which I think is apt here. I agree with the theory that Gale was born a sorcerer (able to channel the Weave a babe/child without training), but he is a wizard - it is in his nature to want to study and learn and perfect his skills. He is ever curious and enthusiastic about accumulating new knowledge. I think of Gale's sexual prowess in the same way. Gale tells the player character that he had mortal lovers before Mystra. We know that Mystra took Gale as a lover at a relatively young age, though we don't quite how young (I'm going to assume that he was old enough to consent, because I can't quite bear the alternative at the moment). I believe that as a young man, Gale accumulated sexual experiences, and came to understand his own sexual preferences as well. I'm sure, like most youths, there was a fair amount of trial and error. He is 35 when the player character meets him, and he is not green behind the ears in this area. He is not coy, he knows himself and what he wants. That requires experience, mistakes, learning. He studied and practised the skills of love and sex. He is able to make you feel sensations beyond imagining. He has a "practised tongue". So on and so forth. I don't think Gale was a blushing virgin when Mystra took him into her bed. Mystra isn't the sum of his experiences of sex and romance, although I do believe that, before the player character, she casts a dominating shadow over them. Mystra, obviously, would have been a demanding lover, and he would have learned how to please her. I think the more incorporeal, Weave-inspired modes of pleasure that Gale is able to channel were probably refined through his time with Mystra. (As an aside, I have no doubt that whatever scraps of affection and pleasure Mystra gave him were ultimately unsatisfying, because he was never her equal, and she never really cared about his needs and wants. Gale is obviously still coming to terms with the nature of their relationship and has limited insight when he speaks about his time with Mystra.) So, all in all, I think Gale probably started off with the fundamental traits of a good lover, and refined his legendary skills over time. <3

[almacambiondaughterofsaleos]

Ukefication Of Stolas

Just as many people said that Vivziepop's writing is kind of like the worst of fanfiction tropes, I think one trope in particular is being invoked with Stolas is the Ukefication. It's a term where a character is devolved into a vulnerable and emotional character so they can be submissive to their partner and look more pitiful so you can feel sympathy for them and that they seek comfort in his significant other. A trait that can be seen with Stolas as the show goes on.

Let's go back to the pilot where although he's obsessed with Blitzo, he also can make demands of him and presents himself as someone who has his own agenda other than sex. He actually lives up to the persona of a demon lord and is unapologetic about his depravity. He's a guy who feels like he could be an antagonist if Blitzo gets on his bad side. The guy is truly someone who you should have a bit of fear for.

In the first episode, we do still see him more softer in voice but at the same time there is hint of that devious manipulator who can use Blitzo's situation to exchange more sex out of him. Noticeably, this would be the last time we see hints of his pilot immorality here. Mostly because of the questionable consent of the relationship. But again showing how he holds the cards in the relationship and Blitzo has to navigate his way to say in his favors.

Even though Stolas called in for protection from imp, it was merely an excuse to get close to Blitzo and he showed what he was capable of taking care of himself. It again shows that Stolas is a being capable of doing stuff himself but enjoys Blitzo's company due to his lusting over him.

Seriously, "Truth Seekers" we blatantly see Stolas being the one calling the shots and chaining Blitzo up. trying to show us that he feels trapped in this relationship even if later it would be shown he was the one who got it in Stolas' head they were a item. But again this demonstrates how unequal it feels and how everything seems to be out of his hand

In that same episode, we also see how much of a monster Stolas can be and that even though he's just a prince he still outmatches DHORKS who are slaughtered without any mercy.

I think where the shift happens is in the "Circus" where the established backstory of them being childhood friends was shown and we get more bad slash fanfiction tropes at us. He's also made way younger from an ancient demon who was a fallen angel to just a millennial parent in hell years. And we got this scene where Blitzo plays dominant seducer in order to get the book. We see Stolas be reluctant to sleep with him but gradually gets more into it when he misinterprets his move as being sexually enthusiastic. This is contrast as said before how Blitzo felt trapped when in reality he was the one who got the ball rolling and it shaves off the feeling of domination he previously was tormented by. A

Also the "Circus" finally confirmed Stella had always been abusive and still was in his life because she wanted to torment him. And even though it would have been interesting for her character showing she was always bad, the way they portray it is just so boing that it feels more like derailed characterization in a fanfiction rather than any smart writing. And again it feels like the childhood friend thing just to make Stolas more sympathetic and woobify him due to fans noticing how crappy he comes off as. It's also made to make Stolitz look better in comparison and make him into this sad owl man who just needs someone like Blitzo to finally accept him.

This ukefication can also be seen in how in "Seeing Stars" he mentions how weak he is in the human world when we previously saw him practically at full power without the grimoire and it comes off more of an excuse to make him seem less of a powerhouse and more of a vulnerable person to "relate" to and for him to fawn over Blitzo as he does stuff.

Again in Western Energy they pull out any bs excuse in order to make him be in danger from Striker. This gets annoying that even if he's not one hundred percent based the actual Stolas it again is annoying see someone named after a demon lord be such a wimp in order to damsel him in the episode. And again even more embarrassing it's from one of the lower class demands like an imp. I know they said it's' blessed ropes but you would think that imp would be affected handling that as well if they weren't careful. And even then it should be more difficult taking on a goetia which are said to be very dangerous demons in demonology.

Finally we get Stolas in the last scene after being badly hurt by Striker he has numerous injuries from being stabbed and beaten up. Again he really looks not like the Demon Lord in the pilot but more like those slash doujins you see online. He really was wussified for this ship and to make him into this big teddy bear the fans can feel sorry for even though we know he's capable. And again make Blitzo feel sorry for not being there when was kidnapped.

Overall, as season two has gone on we really see how wussified/ukeficated Stolas has become. He not only has that air of being a great demon to not mess with, but just this more pitiful puppy that is pampered by the creator because of their favored ship. She wants to sell this by making Stolas this poor baby that can't do wrong and is weaker and vulnerable than he looks. It really is sad how a character with so much character is taken down to indulge in an obnoxious romance.

[yanmuffins]

I don't think that the sword would glance at her because it would be obvious that she's not favored by Bruce. Like you say she is for the most unknown to the public so it means that for most of time, it's just Damian or Tim (sometimes Dick) that Bruce brings to gala, charity event or his company to meet important peopke. Reader would be deem useless to them because she doesn't have connections like her brothers.

I also don't think that reader would like to be near people like them because they seem to have the same attitude of Damian (prideful about their bloodlines and yada yada). Depending on the depth of her resentment towards herfamily and especially state of her relationship with Damian,she will avoid to interact with this kind of people.

The rose would be better to handle her. They know how to seduce people, they will notice that reader has maybe some inferority complex and is not used to being complimented and they will use that to make it easier for her to trust them. Moreover, I think it would be more interesting to see the inner conflict of rose!reader when she becomes a vampire and has to choose if she stays with the family that thave ignored her all her life or if she joins the rose who even though their primary goal is to use her to reach new heights, they have shown her care and made her feel loved and more confident in herself and her abilities and they always seem to find the words that comfort her.

Btw ,it's tottaly an another subject but i looooove your writing🥰🥰🥰 . I just read your jjk fic and the way you use word to describe the background,the setting is so beutiful. The bath scene was my favorite part and I'm not even a fan of jjk. I'm really excited to read your upcoming fic😭!

context &. context.

here's the thing: in their (both rose and sword) eyes, vampire! reader is the easiest, most convenient target who has... potential. she just needs guidance, a nudge in the right direction. not only that, but the fact she is overlooked by her family and barely known to the public is perfect for someone who wants to waltz in and manipulate her. at the end of the day, bruce wayne is gotham's most important man, owner of wayne enterprises, local billionaire and reader is one of his older kids – the most vulnerable one. that alone is enough to turn their heads towards her, instead of bruce's other children.

now whether she truly is a good fit for the clan of kings... well, that's debatable. reader didn't have any particular inclinations to inherit wayne enterprises, and when damian came along she pretty much abandoned the notion. she was homeschooled for most her life and barely attends galas, and doesn't really have connections, like you said. but... if she's in the right hands, who knows? again, potential.

but yes, i wholeheartedly agree about the clan of roses. it seems to be the preferred option from the two other anons i got on the subject, as well. should i make a poll?

anyways. vampire! reader would be easily seduced. this is the one instance where wayne paranoia would fail her because this new person, who is not from gotham (and that is a reason to not be as wary of them), validates, compliments, gives her attention she never had from her family and makes her feel fuzzy and confident.

"has to choose if she stays with the family that thave ignored her all her life or if she joins the rose"

call that being stuck between a rock and a hard place.

her relationship with damian presently isn't as bad as when he came to the manor. he knew about reader, talia would've told him about her, so at first he wasn't happy to know there was someone sharing bruce wayne's blood other than him. but that's not to say it's good. he still thinks she's unworthy of being a wayne but concluded she's not a threat to him. ironically or not, he's most likely to track reader's behavior if he thinks there's something unusual with her. second to jason, but he casually keeps track of her already.

also, anon, thank you so much!!! ( ∩´͈ ᐜ `͈∩) your comment made me feel so giddy, i'm glad you enjoy my writing. pls stay tuned for future fics!!

[ater-love]

Do you think there will be some mission where Elain has to use her beauty, I mean do you think she will have to seduce?

Hi love!!

This is literally one of the scenes I would beg on my knees to get. I’m not kidding.

Not necessarily using her beauty and seducing: some people never shut their mouth, especially when a pretty stranger offers them to listen to their problems.

But I would like to see her flirting with someone tho, smiling and talking to him because we know she is THAT girl and at the end he would confess his darkest and deepest secrets just by looking at her eyes and seeing her smile.

I always imagine Azriel and Elain going on a mission together to gather some intel (they haven’t talked since solstice btw). Elain would start talking to people, a smile here and there making Azriel so jealous because it has been so long since she has smiled like that to him. She would start flirting with a guy and the second he would get too handsy, Azriel would come him.

Elain would get mad at him for “ruining” it and ask him something like “why do you care anyway? It was a mistake to be with me, right? You don’t get to be jealous” and he would say (under the rain, preferably): “the only mistake I made that night was not kissing you”

FIRST KISS IN THE RAIN

Ok I definitely got too carried away but it’s either that or Elain and Az pretending to be husband and wife (yes I’m very cheesy and obvious, I know).

[eddiemadmunson]

Angel - part 4

Summary: You are Heleana’s best friend and one day you catch Aemond’s eye and everything in your life will change upside down.

Paring: Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader

Word Count: 3, 000

Warnings: dirty talk, suggestive themes, fingering, oral (f receiving), cheating

A/N: English is not my first language.

Aemond is 20, Helaena, Aegon and Y/N are 22, Jason Lannister is 25

Tag: @the-phantom-of-arda @hamatoanne  @aemondsdoll @schniiipsel  @okfashionista @zillahvathek @teranya @tempo-rary-fix​ @reneki​  @moonmaiden1996​ @padfooteyes​ @nina2697​ @ryswritingrecord​ @iiamthehybrid​ 

PART 1, PART 2, PART 3

You walked towards the Targaryen house with 2 bottles of wine, actually looking forward to spend the evening with Helaena and your other friends Rhaena and Baela. It’s been a while since you had a girls night. And you seriously needed to talk about the situation with Jason with someone. He just made a scene when you told him that you will spend your evening at your friend’s house. He was extremely jealous of Aegon, which was ridiculous. It was Aemond who he should be jealous about. You still felt mortified about what happened under the table last week. It was definitely cheating and another reason why you had to think about your relationship with your boyfriend. Because you hated to admit it but Aemond and his wandering hand made you cum more intense in 5 minutes than Jason in the last 5 months.

You were about to ring the bell when the door opened, revealing very good looking Aegon. He definitely had a date. “Going to make some desperate girl, happy?” you teased him and he grinned. “Jealous, kitten? I can cancel it and give all of my attention to you,” he winked at you and you rolled your eyes.  “I think I will pass this amazing opportunity, Aegon. I prefer the company of your sister,” you said sarcastically and his eyes grew wide. “That’s hot,” he grinned and you scrunched your nose in disgust. Is he really getting turn on by the idea of you making out with his own sister? “You are such a pig, Aegon,” said Helaena who heard the end of your conversation with her brother. She obviously had the same opinion as you. “I was joking, Hel,” he grinned at his twin. “Whatever, go away before Rhaena and Baela come down the stair and kick your ass for annoying Y/N,” she smirked when Aegon visibly paled. He was actually scared of Baela, that girl hated him and already kicked his ass when he tried to seduce her drunk sister couple months ago. “Enjoy your evening ladies,” he winked at you and hurried away. “He is such a clown sometimes,” Hel snorted and rushed you inside the house. You had really good time with the girls, you were laughing and drinking, gossiping about your classmates and professors. Baela was the first who addressed the main topic of the evening - your sex life, and you didn’t like it at all.  “Y/N! Hel told us that your boyfriend sucks,” she said out of nowhere and you almost choked on wine you were drinking. “What? That’s not true,” you tried to protest weakly. “Come on, Y/N. We love you and we want you to be happy in your life. And Jason isn’t the one who makes you happy. He acts like he is already the boss of his father’s company, he never has time for you and when he does he takes you to some fancy restaurant or to see opera or something”. “He likes opera,” you explained. “Yes, HE likes opera. Do you like opera, Y/N?” she asked. “No, you don’t, it bores you to death, you love going to concerts, fairs, football games, cinemas, bars... he never goes with you because it’s below him,” Hel answered her own question and you sighed knowing that she is right. You were always doing whatever Jason liked or wanted. He never asked you what you want to do to or where to go. He never spent time with your friends because he didn’t like them, especially Helaena and Baela. “Maybe he is very good in bed and that’s the reason why she is with him,” Rhaena suggested and all three girls looked at you curiously. “Ehm.. he is OK, I guess,” you shrugged and Baela snorted. “So he sucks even in bed, girl, dump him!” she shouted.  You had no idea that Aemond is in his room next to Helaena’s. He ignored your silly talk the whole time but he heard Baela shouting and he curiously walked out of his room and silently tiptoed to his sister’s ajar door.

“I didn’t say that he sucks, I said that he’s OK,” you tried to defend your boyfriend. “So you basically say that he is boring in sex as he is boring in everything else,” Baela smirked and folded her arms on her chest. “Is he fucking you in another position than missionary?” Baela continued firing questions at you. “Ehm... sometimes when he is tired he wants me to ride him,” you said and Hel snorted. “That lazy ass let you do all the work, how typical,” she added. “Does he at least eat your pussy well?” Baela asked and you blushed wildly. “He doesn’t do that,” you said quietly. “What?? He doesn’t eat your pussy?!!!” Baela shouted loudly and you quickly covered her mouth with your hand. “Jeez, Baela! Can you shout more loudly? I think that the old lady living across the street didn’t hear you,” you scolded her. Baela was fighting with you and Aemond smirked behind the door, this was very interesting conversation. “I am sure that a lot of guys don’t do it,” you said few moments later when you stopped wrestling with her.  “Good boyfriends don’t have problem with it, Y/N,” Rhaena said softly. “Jace does it, Cregan does it, Luke does it,” she listed and you stopped her. “How do you know about Lucerys?” you asked, shocked that she knows such a information. “Don't you know? They are dating,” Baela smirked. “Isn’t Luke much younger than you?” “He turned 18 few months ago, besides there is nothing bad about younger guys, they have more energy, you should find someone younger too, Y/N, someone who will left you breathless and pleasantly tired,” Rhaena winked and Aemond's face immediately came to your mind but you quickly abandoned that thought. “OK, so three guys you know eat pussy, that’s not a proof,” you said stubbornly. “Well, we all know that Aegon does it too,” Baela said with disgusted frown, reminding you all about the time when he was caught in principal’s office with his head between principal’s daughter's thighs who laid spread on his desk. “And I am sure that Aemond is also good at this, with that sharp tongue of his,” Rhaena added and Hel covered her ears. “Ewww, stop discussing my brothers and their bed activities, I don’t want to hear this,” she shouted and Aemond was having a good time behind the doors listening to the whole conversation, suddenly he heard his mother walking up the stairs and he quickly disappeared back into his room. The girls were teasing you about Jason for another 30 minutes. After that they said that it’s up to you, but you really should reconsider your relationship with him. After that you went back to the talking about anything that came to your minds. You finished all the bottles of wine you brought and Hel convinced you to stay overnight you were slightly tipsy and this wasn’t the first time you slept here, so you agreed. Unfortunately Hel fell asleep before she had a time to prepare a bed and something to sleep in for you.   You stood under the water, trying to wash away the bitter taste you had in your mouth after the chat with the girls. You hated that they were right. You probably should break up with Jason. There was no passion, no undying love. You were with him, because he treated you nicely and you felt safe with him but the girls were right, it wasn’t enough. You walked out of the shower feeling much more sober now. You realized that you don’t have any clean clothes with you. You didn’t want to go through Helaena’s wardrobe so you grabbed the folded T-shirt lying on the washing machine, it looked clean and smelled like fabric softener and something else you couldn’t identify. You pulled it over your head and hoped that whoever this T-shirt belonged to wouldn’t mind that you borrow it for the night. You tiptoed back to Helaena’s bedroom and quickly fell asleep on a sofa. You woke up 2 hours later feeling thirsty. You tried to ignore it and fall asleep again, but it was getting worse and worse. You cursed silently and rolled out of the bed and quietly opened and closed the door. Hel was a heavy sleeper, you could shot the gun next to her head and she doesn't move. But you didn’t want to wake up the rest of the house.  You thought you were quiet as a mouse, but at your slightly tipsy state you were actually making a lot of noise. Alicent and Viserys had their bedroom in the other end of the house so they didn’t hear a thing, Aegon was out and Daeron was at his friend’s house. Unfortunately for you the only awake member of the Targaryen family was Aemond who was working out in their home gym under the stairs. He heard your clumsy steps and smirked for himself. He slowly walked out of the gym, dressed in grey sweatpants and tight white T-shirt, his hair in messy bun so it’s not falling into his face while exercising. He quietly walked into the kitchen, silent and elegant like a cat. He leant against the door frame, watching you trying to grab a glass from the top shelf, you stood on your tiptoes but you were still missing few inches. You were dressed only in panties and oversized T-shirt. His T-shirt. He smirked and slowly approached your cursing figure. “Why the fuck is everyone in this family so tall?” you curse-whispered and desperately tried to reach one of the glasses, when you felt a presence behind you. You wanted to turn around when you felt familiar body pressed against yours. Aemond had a strange obsession with trapping you between his built body and other surfaces. He reached for the glass, taking it with ease from the top shelve, placing it next to you on the counter. “Are you thirsty, angel?” he whispered against your ear, his breath tickling your ear, sending shiver down your spine. “No, I just decided to rearrange your kitchen in the middle of the night, asshole!” you snapped at him quietly, trying to ignore the effect he had on you. “Always so feisty,” he chuckled.  “Tell me, Y/N. Is the water the only thing you are thirsty about?” he asked you mysteriously. “What the fuck are you talking about, Aemond?” you whispered, confused as hell. “I think that you are so bitchy, because you feel really unsatisfied, angel,” he said and you felt his lips making contact with your throat as he was talking while his hand played with the hem of your shirt. “What the fuck are you talking about!” you tried to move away from him but you were trapped. “I am saying that you need someone to fuck you properly, so you won’t be toxic like this to people,” he started kissing the side of your neck slowly while his hand slipped under your shirt. “I am only toxic to you, asshole!! Let me go!” you wanted to say firmly, but his lips felt amazing on your skin and your voice was shaking. “Hmmm, so you want me specifically to fuck you so hard that you won’t be able to walk straight the next day,” he continued, sucking on your throat and you had to bite your tongue to keep yourself from moaning. Your neck was a really sensitive place for you. Aemond's big hand covered most of your belly and you loved that, Jason had ridiculously small hands for a man and he never gripped you as possessively as Aemond. You shivered and Aemond smirked, the tips of his fingers reached the hem of your already soaked panties. “Stop it, you can't do this!” you tried to stop him from touching you again. “Why?” he smirked and grazed your neck with his teeth, his fingers brushing against your clit lightly. “I have a boyfriend!” you breathed out, desperately fighting with your own body which wanted to succum to his touches. “That’s not my problem, angel,” he ignored your protests and circled your clit. “I heard a very interesting conversation earlier. About your boyfriend’s sex abilities,” he smirked when he heard the tiny moan escaping your lips as he pressed your clit more firmly with his long fingers. “Eavesdropping is very rude, you asshole, oh fuck," you cursed as he slipped two of his long fingers inside you. You were shamelessly wet and of course he had to comment on it. "You were saying??" he smirked "Look at you, what a filthy little angel. Your cunt is dripping for me. One touch and you are wrapped around my fingers, Y/N. Soon you will be wrapped around my cock, like the needy little slut you are," he purred against your neck and you wanted to slap him and beg him to add another finger at the same time. He kept pushing his skilled fingers inside you in slow rhythm, getting you close to your orgasm shamefully quickly. Your pussy clenched around him and seconds before you cum he stopped. You whined desperately. "So needy, so fucking wet for me, for someone who you call asshole all the time," he teased you and sucked on your neck again. "Have you ever tasted yourself, angel?" he asked casually like it was normal conversation theme while his fingers slipped back inside you and he started building your orgasm once again. You shook your head no, moaning quietly as he curved his fingers and his palm brushed against your clit. "Aemond please," you begged him, all dignity left your body, you just wanted to cum. "When you beg so nicely," he chuckled and slipped his fingers out of you again, earning a frustrated groan from you. "Open!" he ordered. "That's not what I meant," you protested when you realized that he wants you to suck your juices from his slender fingers. "I said open, Y/N!" he repeated, ignoring your complains. His fingers brushed against your lips, spreading your wetness on them, he slipped them inside when you gasped at the taste. "How does it taste, angel?" he asked you, his lust filled voice dropped an octave. You didn't respond and only hummed in appreciation. "Suck," he ordered and you obeyed immediately, sucking his fingers deeper into your mouth. "Good girl," he purred against your ear and you rocked your ass against his hard cock straining his sweatpants. "So fucking needy, grinding against me, like a horny slut. You want your cunt filled with my thick cock, don't you, angel?" he mocked you and you were too horny and dizzy to care. He pulled his fingers out of your mouth, wrapping them around your throat and angling your head towards him, crashing his lips to yours. Kissing you slowly but possessively. His tongue exploring your mouth like it was a new land he wanted to conquer. The kiss was messy but full of passion. He tasted you on your lips and he needed more. He turned you around and crushed his lips to yours again. Devouring you like a starving man. You were afraid that your lips will be bruised the next day. He led you to the kitchen table and placed you on it. He spread your legs and stepped between them. His hand teased your nipples, twisting them painfully but you loved that intense feeling. You moaned into his mouth, feeling like your whole body was on fire. “Do you like to tease me, you little slut? Walking around my house dressed only in my shirt and your panties, hoping that you would run into me?” he groaned into your ear, groping your breasts over his shirt. “I didn’t know it’s yours,” you whimpered when he wrapped his hand around your neck, making you look into his intense eye. “I swear, I didn’t have anything to sleep in, so I grabbed the first piece of clothing I found,” you explained, feeling dizzy when his hand pressed against your throat. “Fine, I believe you, angel,” he kissed your lips slowly, almost lovingly, surprising you with this gentleness. He stopped kissing you and looked you in the eye, you could see something quickly changing in his blue eye, the gentleness was gone replaced with wicked glint.   "Time for new life experiences, angel," he smirked and before you could process his words he was kneeling between your legs, ripping off your panties. You squealed and gasped when you felt his tongue licking your soaked pussy for the first time. "Oh my God," you rasped. "Call me Aemond," he chuckled smugly and you wanted to suffocate him with your thighs. "Lay down," he pushed you on the table and all will to protest left your body as he started eating your pussy expertly. He licked from your dripping opening to your clit, sucking that little bud into his mouth, causing a loud moan slipping from your lips. "If you don't want my whole family to find you here spread on our eating table, I suggest you to keep your voice down," he said and went back to sucking and slurping at you. You were feeling like if your soul left your body. You have never felt such an intense pleasure in your life. He was good at this, really good. He read your body like an open book. Whenever he did something you liked he remembered that and came back to it moments later. You were a drooling mess, babbling nonsense, getting closer to your orgasm with each stroke of his tongue. You lifted yourself slightly, watching him eating your cunt like it's his favorite meal. He looked up at you and smirked. You were absolutely wrecked, under his spell, willing to do anything to find your release. "Fuck, Aemond, I am gonna cum, please let me cum," you whined desperately. He slipped his fingers inside you again, his tongue circled clit before he started sucking on it again as he watched your face, his eye shining in the dim moon light. He had you where he wanted you to be. On edge, crying, begging him to let you cum. You were so close. Few swipes of his tongue and you will be cumming with his name on your lips. And at that moment he stopped. "Why did you stop?" you whined desperately, trying to chase your orgasm. But without his fingers and tongue you felt empty. He smirked darkly and leaned into your ear. "Tell your boyfriend to finish you off when you come back home to him, angel," he laughed cruelly and walked away, leaving you sitting there absolutely humiliated and horny. 

Part 5

[pagannatural]

1.19

Provenance

-the episode where they come so close to talking about Sam’s fat crush on Dean that I almost choked the first time I saw it

part I

-Sam beckons Dean away from his conversation with a woman at the bar. Like he flags him down and Dean is like Ope sorry lady my little brother who I spend every waking moment with needs to talk to me right now, no it can’t wait yeah I just do whatever he wants at all hours.

-Dean offers to try setting Sam up and Sam says he can get his own dates.

Dean says You could but you don’t. A rare moment of Dean plainly acknowledging that Sam could get it.

Sam’s expression is so hesitant. Dean says “nothing” but looks worried. Sam changes the subject back like he doesn’t actually want to talk about it. Usually Sam is vocal and pushes Dean to talk, but on this topic it’s the opposite.

Purely a theory but they’re both acting like this issue has come up before, like Oh it’s this again. And by before I mean way back before Stanford, this issue of Why isn’t Sam interested in anyone. The way Dean kind of mutters to himself passive aggressively and the way Sam answers but just moves on, the way he seems more needy in the first half of this episode.

-Dean’s eyes wander and Sam gets his attention again. His tone is less irritated and more puppyish and insistent. Dean says the case can wait until first thing and goes back to talk to the bar women and Sam calls after him forlornly.

His expression KILLS me. He wants Dean’s attention soso bad. He smiles after this though, because he loves Dean and finds him endearing.

-Sam lies artfully to the auction house guy. Dean tries to order champagne from him and calls him chuckles. Dean is good at defying authority by confronting, ridiculing, and fighting it.

-Sam says he took an art history course to meet girls and I believe him. He probably really wanted to meet someone to get his mind off of Dean.

-Dean asks Sam to call Sarah. It’s like he recognizes this puppy version of Sam and knows whatever he does doesn’t seem to help, so he’s trying to supply him with the one thing he really can’t do himself. He’s always controlling about Sam’s sex life but this time it’s coming from concern. And probably his own guilt, like he’s trying to repair something.

-Sarah asks Sam why he hasn’t been dating and he looks troubled, doesn’t answer. Next scene is Dean sharpening a knife.

Knives are symbolic of masculinity and of separation, of cutting things away. They’re often suggestive of the risk of being seduced by a man or of being penetrated.

As Dean sharpens his knife, he hedges around asking Sam if he slept with her, trying to keep it casual.

He doesn’t look casual. He only puts the knife aside when Sam changes the subject to the case. It makes the conversation feel sexually charged. Dean is also trying to give Sam some separation by pushing him toward Sarah, and it’s not working. He’s dangerous, to Sam, who’s trying to resist him.

-Sam is not happy about Dean pretending to forget his wallet to try and set him up with Sarah. He looks at Dean like he’s let him down, like he can’t believe what he’s hearing, like he really doesn’t like this.

He looks at Sarah, a very pretty art dealer, like she’s a bucket of slugs on his clean floor.

And he’s facing Dean, with his shoulder to her, until Dean physically leaves. He doesn’t blush or act embarrassed or anything when Dean pushes him toward her, he just seems uninterested and offended that Dean isn’t listening to him.

[faerievampling]

Killing Time

Chapter 17: Rogue

Pairing: Ascended Astarion x Vampire Tav (female reader)

word count: 5.5k

Summary: After their fight, Tav and Astarion spend some time apart.

warnings: 18+. Mention of SA. Graphic Violence. PiV. Vaginal Fingering.

Link to Ao3 | Killing Time Masterlist

A/N: Hope you guys enjoy the flashback scene here from Act 3 😆 I enjoyed writing them in game and fleshing them out a bit more. Next update will be within a week <3

Last Chapter | Next Chapter

It’s about a little after midday, and you’re fucking bored of being in the library. You’d been napping somewhat peacefully after getting out some of those pesky emotions, but now you find yourself without wine, blood, proper clothing, or servants at your disposal. Since you aren’t connected to Astarion anymore, how are you supposed to call on them? You find yourself antsy, your fingers twitching as you desperately need movement – you need to do something, lest you wallow away in your grief for eternity. 

You feel like striking something or someone as you exit the library – your nails are digging into your palm. You tentatively make your way through your palace, slowly walking through the corridors and hallways to soak it all in. Your home is colorful, decadent, tasteful, albeit eccentric; you and Astarion have many decorations collected from all over the realms, and countless portraits and paintings of your little family. Your palace isn’t as sprawling as some: more compacted to fit a man, his wife, and a few servants and spawn. This makes you wonder where exactly Astarion is keeping all of your new…children. Below. They must be below. 

As the admittedly petty (and very pretty) lady of the house, you think you should meet them. Before that, you need a wardrobe change. Truthfully, you huff and stomp to the servant's quarters, meaning to demand Bethild’s presence in accompanying you to your chambers. The servants’ quarters are reasonable, spacious, and clean, if a bit dull – only a few servants lived on the ground, Bethild unfortunately not being one of them. She had chosen her young child over serving you, which made you scoff when Astarion told you. 

‘It’s an honor for that young lady to even touch me, Astarion!’ You yelled at him through the expanse of your shared minds. 

“Of course! I know that, my treasure, but what else am I to do? She’s the one we want, isn’t she?” Astarion was always trying to reason with you. He always tries to fix all he can and you know this – but nonetheless, it makes you feel angry when he can’t. Even then, even when he couldn’t make your favorite (you wouldn’t ever admit this to her, of course) servant live on the grounds with you, to be at your disposal always, it made you irate. Astarion can always give you what you want, why is he acting like he can’t do it now? 

‘Compel her.’

Astarion paused for a beat. ‘Is that truly what you desire?’

Astarion talked you out of it. He would have done it upon your insistence, probably, but you ultimately trusted his opinion on the matter – and Bethild does annoy you. You start to think maybe you should ask Astarion what he thinks the two of you should do, to fix this brokenness in your relationship, but you guess you already know his answer; upon returning home after finding that stupid sword for Angel and defeating the beholder with your bare claws, Astarion’s first choice was to seduce you, to coax to bed so he could have your body, as if you were some…conquest. Maybe he thought it would help you; hells, Angel suggested the same thing. 

Angel. You can’t think about him for too long. It feels wrong because he’s stirring something inside you, and when you think of it, it makes you want to…run. It’s almost as if you, the ultimate predator, are starting to feel like the prey. This is unacceptable to you. 

“This is unacceptable, Bethild,” You find yourself saying as you find Bethild lounging on a settee, knitting up a project Astarion likely has her working for you, no doubt. Bethild is caught off guard, unsure of exactly what you mean; but you don’t know, either. Your clothing, your hair, your nails, your attitude: all of it was likely to be the source of your disturbance. 

“My lady?” Bethild moves to stand, but you click your tongue at her.

“Don’t act so unfamiliar with me, Bethild. I’ve known your mind almost your whole life,” You try to soften your voice, but you likely fail by the look on Bethild’s face: still, she hardly wavers. She’s handled you for some time now. You don’t need to hide from her. You feel a little lighter around her, you notice. She waits for you to speak. 

“I…” You begin, but you don’t know why your voice falters. 

“Do you need help getting dressed? Perhaps finding your room?”

“No! No…” You swallow. You look at Bethild intensely. She knows you won’t harm her, but she can’t help but feel just a little afraid, her heart beating a little faster by the second: it was only natural for the living to fear the bloodsucking dead. “W-well…”

She knows you’re upset. “Lady Ancunín, wouldn’t you like to wear something more substantial? The Master would be displeased to know you're walking around in your shift.”

Thinking about Astarion makes your chest ache, and hearing his mention hurts no less. You nod in agreement with Bethild – you like your freedom in your dress, hair, and general actions, but you draw a line at meeting a hundred spawn in nothing but a robe. “Please, yes. But…”

Bethild gives you a moment to think, but not too long – she’s quite used to your infamous long pauses and is known to move the conversation along if she feels she must. 

“Are you quite alright, mistress?”

You blink at her. You can’t help but wince in front of her, like a hurt puppy. You don’t think Bethild has seen you this vulnerable before. In your embarrassment, you quickly remind yourself that her demise will come so swiftly, her lifespan ticking before your immortal eyes, and who would she tell of your weakness? Does it even matter to you, anymore? Don’t you just want to be yourself? What does that even mean, to ‘be yourself’?

“How about you sit, dear. You don’t look very well, do you need something to eat?” 

You shake your head, but you sit across from her, entirely unaware of just how awkward you are being. 

“You have children, four of them, don’t you?” You ask; not thinking about how you probably shouldn’t mention her children just after she asked you if you need a snack. ‘A child would probably be just enough blood for a small meal,’ You silently jest to yourself. Astarion would appreciate your joke, you begrudgingly think.

This makes you wonder, for just a moment, about your parents – you don’t think of them often, now, being that you are Astarion’s offspring. In your regards, it was he who raised you; he’s taught you everything you know as a vampire. You’ve been with him since you were just a few years out of girlhood, and he’s been more to you than your parents ever were. It’s hard to remember their faces – for a moment, you think that since Astarion met them so many years ago, he could just show you again, before realizing he can’t, anymore. You don’t know if you’ll ever get used to the silence in your head. 

Many things have been forgotten by you, simply due to the passage of time; having that worm in your head could’nt have helped. Still, you’ve lived a long life filled with so many pleasures, with discomfort being something that you rarely ever experienced; until you met Geldon Moth, of course. Those painful memories seem to be the loudest, too, even if they are muddled for whatever reason. You don’t know, anymore, and you aren’t sure it matters. You’ve accepted your mess. Now you must figure out how to clean it up. 

But isn’t that what your husband and the servants are for? Aren’t they all here for you? To serve you? You don’t understand your place in the world anymore. 

“Yes, and a grandchild on the way.” When Bethild speaks, you’d nearly forgotten she was there. You smile. Bethild can’t help but remark on your frightening majesty in her head; she isn’t used to speaking with you so casually. At least she doesn’t think you’re ugly. 

“So you’ve spent a lot of time in your marital bed?” You ask, putting off just enough charm to make her agreeable. A blush rises to Bethild’s cheeks.

“My lady…if you must know, yes. My husband and I are quite close.” But her face drops once she seems to realize where you’re going with this. Bethild knows you were taken by an evil vampire lord, and she’s thinking about he probably raped you…

“He did.” You think this is the first time you may have said it explicitly. Your face is stone, your heart is void. Angel said your soul was pure, but you think he must be lying now; because you feel there isn’t anything but darkness inside of you anymore. “He raped me. And he had others do so, too. And now my husband wants my body, and I want to give it to him, but I can’t, and he’s…” You don’t want her knowing about you and Astarion’s other arguments: there is (albeit ancient) murder involved, and she shouldn't know any details. 

“Just being a…” You ponder this for a moment. “A k’chakhi. Is that…has that ever happened to you?” 

No. You and Bethild think this at the same time. Bethild’s had a fairly comfortable life for a peasant: she has a lovely husband, and Astarion pays her well to care for you: which is part of why she’s such a good servant. You know her mind enough to know she’s experienced little harm in her life. The next thing she thinks is how she hates hearing you use githyanki slander – ‘a waste of a perfectly good Lady.’ She doesn’t quite know what it means, only that it sounds vulgar coming from your lips. You can’t help but smile a little, despite the grim topic. 

“It hasn’t, dear. And I’m sorry it happened to you,” Bethild pauses, her plain face twisting in apprehension. “Might I speak freely, Lady Ancunín?”

“Don’t you always?”

“Hmph. As often as I need, darling.” Bethild says, her face softening as she does. Maybe she isn’t so plain as you first thought, the longer you look at her: her skin is clear and soft, and she looks younger than her years. Her rounded chin adds to her almost girlish look, and her eyes have a sparkle to them. You feel relief to see life in her eyes. You wonder if the drow was ever happy. When did he last have a sparkle in his eyes? When he was finally dancing with the maiden of death? Is that who you are, now?

For a moment, you wonder if you’re still charming her by accident: but maybe you’re just seeing her for the first time. Her heart rate is slowing down as she seems to soak you in, too: she wonders about your gold eye. She thinks it's strange but beautiful, and compliments the red one fairly well – but her mind focuses on this for only a second before she wonders if Astarion’s forced himself on you, or been cruel to you in some manner. She doesn’t expect this of him, but she thinks he hasn’t been himself since you disappeared, and even worse since you’ve been back…

“Worse?” You ask, reminding the woman that you’re in her head. Bethild knows this, of course, but it still freaks her out a little. “You think he’s been worse since I’ve returned?” 

Bethild blinks, and for a split second, thinks twice about speaking her thoughts aloud, but she continues. “Yes. He’s…I don’t know if your Master is taking care of himself properly.”

You recognize her words, thinking about how exhausted Astarion always looks, how clingy he’s been with you, and how his words sometimes feel procured, as if he’s only telling you what he wants you to hear. Now, you just feel antsy; this behavior is familiar to you, but in the past, it had always been more explicit. Does he mean to lock you away again? Surely he wouldn’t…

Bethild notices your runaway thoughts, quickly redirecting you. “Come, let’s get you into something decent.”

But Bethild’s thoughts linger: she doesn’t understand why you haven’t spoken to your master yourself – why you haven’t noticed his changes. But she suspects you’ve been far too wrapped up in yourself, as you always are. Bethild brings you something casual to wear from your bedroom, and you end up changing in the servants’ quarters for the first time in your whole life. There’s nothing special about it: merely prompting you to consider how you’ve ended up right here, right now, and how you are going to remedy it. 

~ ~ ~

Astarion can’t tell if it’s in his head or not, but he feels like his siblings – especially Petras and Leon, is targeting you as if they’re trying to kill you first to add insult to injury. Sure, Astarion knows his siblings are being compelled, but still…the look of envy is apparent in the eyes of the spawn. He’s fallen in love, he has friends, allies, and nearly his freedom. Astarion has it all, and the other six have clearly been subject to more torture, and more starvation. He pities them. 

Astarion hardly cares about this anymore. The sacrifice of his siblings was entirely worth it, even if you do hate him. After you left the boudoir, Astarion found himself scrambling around the bedroom, kicking and screaming and crying; once calm, he consulted with the palace wizards, librarians, and the other intellectuals still at the palace until there wasn’t anything else productive to do except try to finally rest. Although he keeps a protective eye on you, just to ensure your safety, he doesn’t bother you, despite how badly he wants to. No, Astarion hasn’t rested for some time – just a few hours of reverie would help, he thinks. He can be with you there; but the memories he lands on surprise him. Why did he go back so far?

Leon lunges at you, hissing and scratching at your armor – you move as if your body follows your arm, swinging your sword through to cut Leon. The feral spawn tries to dodge, but fails, disappearing to red mist just as your sword hits his body. Petras comes from behind you – Astarion is quick with his crossbows, filling his brother's chest with arrows, preventing him from getting another swing at you. Astarion can’t help but protect you in battle. As a rogue, he hides in the shadows, burying his arrows in anyone who dares try to attack you. At one point, Shadowheart even complains, saying Astarion needs to focus on other enemies, not just the ones attacking his girlfriend. He does better spray his arrows out, but he still keeps a close eye on you. You swing your sword with grace, your tactical moves and a body seemingly weightless; you just have a way about you when you fight. You look like a dancer, effortlessly seducing the blade and your foe. He admires it tenfold – and admires you more than anyone in this world. You’re beautiful, kind when life calls for it, brutal all the same. You are balanced – you are balance for Astarion. Watching his siblings hurt you solidified his decision: he would take the ritual from beneath Cazador’s feet, perform that lover's ritual he’s heard about, and the two of you could be safe: forever, for good. When the fight dies down, he immediately comes to you. Seeing that you’re visibly unharmed, Astarion cracks some joke about you finally meeting his family. You don't laugh – you can’t. The worry and fear are all over your beautiful face.

“I’m doing this for you too, you know. So we’ll be safe. Forever, for good.” Astarion speaks with conviction, letting the smile drop from his face to convey how serious he is. He means this, and he wants you to know it. He doesn’t want to play games anymore – he’s tired of being hunted. Tired of fighting, tired of dragging you through this with him – unfortunately, he knows he needs you to defeat Cazador with him. That’s who you are, he begrudgingly thinks: his strong protector. 

“What are you saying, ‘Star?” You ask, eyes wide, reaching out to him; he takes your hands, which are surprisingly smooth despite your tactical abilities. That’s the thing – Astarion knows you don’t really need him to protect you, not physically. But you are a young, naive thing, one he doesn’t want getting hurt. His selfish desire for you is the one thing Astarion is allowing himself, and he needs you to just give it to him. 

“I think I hear wedding bells in your future, Tav,” Wyll teases as he hands his sword to Karlach, who’s promptly wiping off the blood, having been put on this duty after losing some silly bet to Gale that Astarion hadn’t been privy to. Wyll isn’t entirely wrong, but he knows they wouldn’t understand what Astarion wants with you is far more than a legally binding contract. 

Astarion shoots a grimace at Wyll, who does need to shut up. 

Ever since your arrival in Baldur’s Gate, Astarion’s felt both confident and horrifically terrified. Most days, he lands somewhere in between, his greatest comfort being you. The one comfort he wishes he could enjoy fully, despite the two of you sleeping together every night. You have ever since he confessed to you, that when your albeit enjoyable trysts ended, your intimacy and love began. Astarion loves nothing more than to hold you at night. It means so much to him to have someone to be with, someone he likes, someone he loves, and you’re so beautiful…so you. 

“Let me have you tonight,” Astarion whispers to you amidst the soft sounds of your sleeping companions. The commotion of the spawn attack finally dies down, leaving the two of you to the quiet of the suite. Halsin’s snores could be heard from around the room, and Jaheira and Minsc are known to kick in their sleep. Once, earlier in your adventure, you told Astarion you saw Minsc’s dreams one night: he was locked in a cage, tortured next to a far younger Jaheira, whose cries could be heard throughout whatever dark and dank prison they were in. Your psychic background was known to the whole party, but Astarion became privy to some of the finer details of your condition: strange ways you were able to unlock glimpses of the future, and sometimes even the past and present, it seems. You sometimes just knew things that Astarion didn’t know how to account for – to be fair, you’re rather observant, and you have a knack for connecting with others. Not to mention that pesky tadpole, which certainly complicates things, (you attested this to why you had been able to see Minsc’s dreams, but Astarion isn’t so sure) but it also gave you and Astarion insight into each other's minds, and you two became known to each other quickly once you truly bonded back in the Shadow Cursed Lands. 

Astarion uses the tadpole now, sharing his thoughts of burying his face between your thighs before sliding himself into you missionary style, kissing and sucking at your neck before easing his fangs into delicate flesh, your rapid heartbeat loud in his ears, your warm skin beneath his cold touch. Gods; his cock has been hard ever since the end of the battle – after your party had cleaned up, Astarion set his sights on passionately kissing you, grabbing at whatever curvature of your body he could. He quickly got you settled in bed, wrapping you in his arms and holding you tightly. 

You smile, but you look a little shy, a blush rising on your cheeks. You’re so cute like that, still so shy with him – he understands it. You hadn’t much experience when you met him, other than a few minor instances when you were a teen, when you shared a kiss with Wyll at the damned tiefling party, and the times you recently spent with Lae’zel in her tent, much to Astarion’s dismay. 

He hadn’t cared much about those things then, you being with others. It was more annoying to him than anything else, because it meant there was competition, and he needed you the most. No, Astarion tells himself he didn’t mind sharing your body (at least, for a handful of centuries) just like he didn't mind when you bled a little after he first entered you back in the clearing. He thought it was endearing, to be the first man to break through your walls, spearing through your hymen to reach your depths. When Astarion finally pulled himself out of you to clean you with his mouth, he swore that blood was sweeter than anything…

Not even your virginal blood tastes as good as you do now that you’re his. But when you were still alive, when your heart still beat, Astarion swore it was the taste of the heavens themselves. 

“Are you sure? Last time…” You begin, immediately making Astarion feel heavy in his gut. “I just don’t want you to push yourself, ‘Star. We don’t have to.”

Astarion furrows his brows, desperately wanting you to be quiet – to let him lead, to let him have you. He ignores you, brushing his lips to yours, tongue lazily teasing your bottom lip, using all his sweetest moves on you. 

Astarion doesn’t want to sit with this memory anymore. He wasn’t able to perform that night:

Astarion can’t stop looking at your face. You’re so pretty, such a stunning young woman, and yet, he feels worse and worse as his lips trail over your smooth skin, his fingers swirling inside you. Those same fingers have been inside countless other women and men, and he wants so desperately not to think of it: the sheer number of bodies that have touched him, that have now touched you. He imagines thousands of hands grabbing onto him, onto you, dragging you both below, right back down to the dungeons of Cazador’s estate. He pulls back again, fixing his eyes to yours. The flicker of the fireplace roars in the middle of the suite, giving you both just enough light to admire one another amidst darkness. Your naked figure is something out of a dream, yet it brings him back to the present: you lie on your back. Your naked breasts, your pert nipples, hardened from pleasure and the chill of the breeze from an open window, add only to your sex appeal. Your lips are parted, creating some strange, perverted desire within Astarion to see your tongue. 

You’re so comfortable with him. Him: he who is a monster, a stalker in the night. Astarion’s led hundreds to their deaths. Even just a few months ago, he was doing Cazador’s bidding, and yet here you are: the sweet, even-hearted leader, on her back for the monster. Your racing heartbeat, your utter vulnerability…it’s bringing out Astarion’s prey drive, and his fangs ache to be buried inside you. 

“Astarion…” You whisper, having noticed his absence. You half-heartedly try to pull his hand away from your sex, gripping at his wrist. In a few days, you will face Cazador. And if all goes horribly wrong, this may be one of the last times he could have you – and, truthfully, he thinks it would be a good distraction; he’s in no mood to rest, and watching you sleep is hardly exciting. And now, he’s feeling a bit peckish.

“Shh,” Astarion’s voice comes out in a seductive, hushed whisper. He kisses you again, capturing your protests in his mouth, curling his fingers inside of you to make you squirm. He remembers it’s you crying beneath him, the woman he loves, and not some stranger or friend of Cazador, or Cazador himself…it’s you. And he can bite you, and know all of you because you’ll do anything for him.

“You’re so beautiful,” He coos, unable to contain his praise for you. His nose trails along your jaw, down your collarbone; he can feel you shiver in his arms.

You chirp in pain when Astarion spears his fangs into you; he puts a hand over your mouth, continuing to push his fingers into you, slipping in a third when he feels your contraction die down, your body relaxing once again from your intense orgasm. His thumb gently works your clitoris – your body is so sensitive, and bringing you to ruin makes him feel so powerful. He believes with you by his side, anything is possible. 

Some things never change. 

Astarion can’t feed on you forever: the disgust usually comes back once he draws his fangs away from your neck. He’s already taken too much blood, he can tell just by the way you swoon, the way your hazy eyes slowly blink at him. He can’t deny he likes you this way: you’re weak. You probably couldn’t fight him off if you tried, as you’re naked, woozy from blood loss, and the monster's hands are inside you. 

He would kill to have that trust back. 

His cock is uncomfortably hard as he pulls his underclothes down, his member twitching as he rubs it against your hip. You don’t have much privacy at the elfsong – that’s part of the fun to Astarion – but the two of you have abandoned some caution along the way, ditching the blanket that once covered your forms. If anyone wakes up and sees you now, the shroud of a blanket won’t change a thing: the two of you are obviously making love. Still, you both move quickly and quietly, despite your brief protests when he starts to touch your sensitive bundle of nerves again, which you complain is too sensitive, so overwhelming…

“Y-you just like to play with me,” You cry, against Astarion’s lips, breaking your fervent kisses to take a breath. “Meanie…”

“Oh, I am quite mean, aren’t I, for playing with my food?” Astarion whispers, his voice teasing in your ear. He’s gently stroking his cock, his palm rising up and down on his shaft, squeezing before he starts to rub on your hip again. Bringing his hand to your jaw, he ensures you’re looking into his eyes. He wants you to get lost in him. But it is he who finds himself lost in you.

He wants to tell you he loves you. It pops into his mind quite suddenly, a voice in the back of his head whispering: I love you, Tav.  It makes him wonder why you haven’t said it to him first, though.

He still tastes your blood in his mouth when he brings his fingers away from you, popping them in his mouth, licking them clean. The taste of your blood and your come mix so perfectly.“You’re a feast for me. Don’t you know I survive entirely on the blood and intimate juices of very bad girls?”

Your eyes go wide like a child caught stealing sweets. “Bad? I’ve been bad?”

Astarion can’t help but chuckle, causing you to gasp, putting your hands over his mouth to muffle the noise. He could care less about what the others think: you’re going to be his, and he’s having fun. The two of you continue like this for some time, stifled moans, giggles, kisses and nips…

Astarion only realizes he can’t continue right before he pushes into you. It isn’t the worst kind of torture, not being able to make love to you, but it’s pretty damn bad. He just wants you both to feel good, to be close to each other; one moment, the both of you are stripped naked, hot and bothered, precum dripping from the tip of his cock, your core slick for him, all for him just to have to pull away. 

You hid your disappointment well: you coaxed Astarion back from the brink, making him feel more secure in your love and care. He wonders if your time of nursing and comforting him is over, now that you hate him. No matter, he tells himself, even though he knows very well it certainly does matter. Astarion falls back into reverie, to a slightly later memory:

Astarion has been traveling in the vaults under Sorcerous Sundries in the Gate, just two days after the spawn assault at the Elfsong. You lead the fray, as you always do, with Gale and Karlach in toe, looting the place high and low for supplies. Although the party is pretty rich, you insist on searching every nook and cranny. Astarion agrees with you, of course, because you’re right: he too feels the party needs more time and resources before they attack Cazador’s palace.

‘The Chronicles of Straud’ the title read; it was a thick book tucked away somewhere in Lorroakan's vault, and was making for an interesting read as Astarion occasionally sent glances your way, specifically when you would bend over to pick something up. Your ass just looks amazing in your new armor, and he catches the others checking you out, too. Annoying. 

“Karlach,” Astarion calls, the red tiefling quickly looking away from your round hips as her eyes meet Astarion’s. Gale also turns around, having been startled by Astarion’s voice. 

“What? I didn’t do anything wrong! I was just admiring the lovely armor you bought her,” Karlach chuckles, smoothing away her embarrassment as she wipes her hand across her forehead. You’ve caught on, now, turning around to give Astarion and Karlach a knowing, disapproving look, but you grin nonetheless, unable to hide your laughter. Astarion smiles at your smile. 

Gale and Karlach continue to scour the vault, Gale excitedly calling out every good find, Karlach cheering him on as he does so. You shoot Astarion a sultry smirk before doing a little waltz over to him, plopping down next to him on the steel floor of the vault. 

“What’s got your attention?” You ask, a curious smile on your pretty, smooth face. 

Astarion chuckles, his eyes flickering to your plush lips for only a moment before meeting your eyes. Astarion swiftly closes the book, losing his bookmark on the page titled: ‘The Dark Kiss’. It’s not that he means to be evasive, but he isn’t ready to share with you yet. Once he tells you he plans to make you his forever, that’s basically a love confession and a proposal in one – that’s way too much for Astarion in this state. His freedom isn’t even guaranteed, yet; not while Cazador still lives. 

“Ah, just some reading about the life of Straud. He was a formidable vampire in his day,” Astarion explains, handing the book over to you. You have no real interest in reading some random book, so Astarion knows he’s safe to show you. 

“Oh. I’ve never heard of him,” You say, turning the book over in your hand. He chuckles at this because he isn’t surprised: you knew nothing of vampires when he uh…accidentally revealed himself to you. 

Astarion can tell there’s something on your mind. When he asks you, you explain that you’ve been feeling antsy ever since the spawn attacked in the dead of night. “They tried to take you away – and now we know about the ritual…I just want you to be free. To have everything you want, that I know you deserve.”

Your words are sweet, and your lips are even sweeter. He hungrily kisses you, not caring if the others see. He knows you love him despite your lack of confession, and that you’ll do anything for him – hells, you’ve done everything he’s asked, and more. He just wants to give you so much more than what he can right now. And he should be able to give you something extraordinary once he ascends. ‘The Dark Kiss’: Astarion thinks it sounds sensual. And how lucky he is to have found the ritual hidden amongst Lorroakan’s valuables.  As the days go on, Astarion likes you more and more – and he likes the other less and less. Even he doesn’t want to admit to himself that he wants all your attention. But Astarion knows that wouldn’t be good for the party: there is too much at stake. The thought makes him pause, fluttering his eyes open as he tumbles that ancient thought around in his head: for the good of the party. But Astarion doesn’t care about the party, only the Ancuníns. So, your husband finds himself finally asking: what is best for the Ancuníns?

[lesbianmarrow]

the thing that surprised me in syzygy was mulder eventually deciding he didn't want to sleep with detective white. at the beginning of the episode i definitely thought they were going to hook up given how flirtatious he was being toward her. it seemed like he wanted to get in her pants at first (soooo unprofessional but isnt he always) but then didn't want to anymore bc he was too torn up over how he and scully weren't getting along. i could see his initial flirting with white as him trying to escape that tension between him and scully, only of course it just made everything worse.

it's notable that this is the first time mulder is trying to hook up with someone while scully is right there. the past 2 instances happened when she was away, and i think she feels extra offended (and "humiliated" as she says) that he's doing it while she's right there. i think she even feels rejected and like she's being made to feel like she's not good enough. mulder's comments to white about scully's skepticism are so hurtful in part because they're creating an "us vs them" where the "us" is mulder and white and the "them" is scully, when usually the "us" is mulder and scully and the "them" is the rest of the world. it's not just the betrayal of this that hurts scully, it's that it's in service of mulder trying to seduce some other woman. such a petty reason for him to turn on her in that way.

i've seen fans discuss the mulder/white motel room scene as white sexually assaulting mulder, and they're not wrong, but i think it's also more complicated than that - she's definitely assaulting him in a way that's totally inappropriate, but i don't think mulder really fully gets that a woman pressuring him into sex that way is not okay, particularly when it's a beautiful woman who he's flirted with and has wanted to have sex with. the same thing happens with phoebe in season 1. (scully's absolute disinterest in exploiting mulder sexually makes a beautiful contrast to that i think. you can just feel that she would never do this, and wants to protect him from people who would.) i got the sense that mulder was protesting so hard against white's advances because there was a part of him that did want to have sex with her, but he's so conflicted and upset and guilty that he knows he would regret it, so he's trying not to let her convince him to hook up. because he feels like he COULD be convinced. still absolutely not okay on white's part - the script tries to blame it on the syzygy but that feels weak to me.

i found darren mooney's review of this episode very illuminating - he posits that it's chris carter's attempt to do a darin morgan-style comedy episode. i hadn't thought of this episode as comedic at all while watching it, but after i read that i could see where the episode was intended to be a comedy and particularly how the sexual aspects were meant to come across as funny and raunchy. like, mulder spending the whole episode trying to get with this woman only to decide he doesn't want her just as she's throwing herself at him - the situation is very screwball comedy, only when you're watching it it's not actually funny at all. i think a lot of the directing choices fight against that lighthearted comedic impulse, giving the mulder/scully conflict more weight, and i think the episode is stronger for it. it's still funny, but in a grim way. like a cocktail party where everyone's talking shit about each other and feelings are getting hurt but you can't tear your eyes away from the mess. as a comedy story i think it fails utterly but as a drama i find it compelling.

[heelgripper]

Look, I'm not normally one to make theories, but as someone basically frothing at the mouth over the Osha/Qimir possibilities, let's take a look at some choice interview quotes, shall we?

It's tinfoil hat time.

Here’s a VERY INTERESTING quote from the show runner, Leslye (thank you to @tremendouskoalachild for the transcript!):

“I was always really hit by Obi-Wan's line in A New Hope when he says Vader was seduced by the dark side. That made me feel weird, because I was a kid, and I didn't really understand what that word meant, and then later when I did I was like, what's he talking about? So with the way that someone has turned to the dark side or someone joins the Sith to me it's all about seduction, it's all about appealing to the part of that person or the thing that person wants the most. With Anakin it was to save his wife, it was to stop the suffering of the person he loved more than anything in the world, more than his own self. That's why it's so tragic. He put her over so much stuff that he couldn't see the forest for the trees. And with Mae it was revenge. Manny was definitely feeding into, well, if you want revenge then come with me and you can do that. So OSHA is going to be a different tactic, like, what does Osha want? And what would her present moral code crumble under if she was offered? And I think for Osha it's something more emotional, and I think if you've been watching the show close enough, I think you'll know where that's headed.”

Then we get this from an interview with Manny:

“How does one get seduced by the dark side?” he asks. “I was very intrigued by that, when [Headland] mentioned that, it's such an interesting concept. Because with seduction, you have empathy and vulnerability. And that was really appealing to me because we never really see that in the Sith or in the dark side. It was a lot to explore.”

Now, personally, I think that Osha wants camaraderie. She sounds so EXCITED when Sol tells her that there are hundreds of kids just like her at the Jedi Temple on Coruscant. See her face light up! And then later, after she's left the order, she gets a tattoo to commemorate some of her mechanic friends! She quickly forms a connection with Jecki, and still has a close connection with Yord and Sol after all these years. She craves connection. I think Qimir will offer her that connection.

Will it be shippy? Well, there are DEFINITELY some moments so far, like Qimir's far too interested perusal of her face all close up in the apothecary shop. Then the way he tenderly lays the blanket over her at the end of episode 5. Why all the emphasis on the word 'seduction' in the interviews???

Even if the show does not Go There, I think it's safe to say that there will be some tension in their scenes together. Amandla and Manny's chemistry is OFF THE CHARTS. I'm so excited for Tuesday.