#at least Angie would be happy

[krisssssssy]

AU where Miranda isn’t a total witch and kidnaps a therapist to help her dysfunctional family

Can you imagine

OR or a reality style show of the Four Lords of course with talking heads where we get to see Heisenberg and Alcina rant violently about each other

They’re all super invested in who gets the popular vote

Alcina and Heis are devastated when Donna wins it and argue incessantly with each other about why they lost and it’s somehow the others fault

[7s3ven]

NOBODY’S SON, NOBODY’S DAUGHTER. luke (pjo) pt. 2

PART 1 > PART 2 > PART 3 > PART 4 (last pt)

( masterlist )

IN WHICH… Y/N is finally claimed by her father, who turns out to be Zeus. Now, she’s stuck in an empty cabin as the only forbidden child of Zeus. Luke, on the other hand, is thrilled to be playing her knight in shining armour and getting her through each lonely day.

“I’m in the wind, you’re in the water. Nobody’s son, nobody’s daughter.”

( follows the show - kind of just a oneshot bc i’m bored )

Warnings : a little bit of jealousy, arguing, Y/N being indecisive and confused (real), not proof-read

—

TAG LIST : @hottiewifeyyyy @kamiliora @be-bap @finnickodaddy @th0tblckgrl @shoyofroyoyoyo @csifandom @uniquely-her @imafrkinsimp @syraxesrevenge @ahh-chickens @dracoslovergirl @midnightstar-90 @8812-342 @liv1104 @krkiiz @arialikestea @ch16rles @lizziesliz @maryclx01 @jennapancake @lukecastellandefender @yuminako @coryoskywalker @julielightwood @crybabysbakery @jsbaby @liviessun @p3pperm1nttea @angie-esc @purplerose291 @prettylilsimp @10ava01 @froggiesstalks @happy-jj @czennieszn @gisellesprettylies @loveyava @kkrenae

I really hope this part is good enough 🙏

—

Being claimed was perhaps worse than staying in the Hermes cabin. The Zeus cabin was completely empty, much to Y/N’s dismay. Percy was unlucky enough to be a forbidden child too. Looks like neither of them would be having any half-siblings.

“I always knew she was destined for greatness.” Clarisse would say as if the life of a forbidden child wasn’t lonely and utterly isolated.

“Knock, knock.”

But there was one person who could light up the dim Zeus cabin.

“Hope you don’t mind that I brought strawberries. I picked ‘em myself. It was not easy work, let me tell you.” Luke chuckled as he walked in, shutting the door behind him. “Nice place.” He sarcastically said, staring at the cobwebs that littered the walls.

Y/N stared at him, unimpressed and unamused. “Being claimed was supposed to feel great. But I’m just back at square one again.” She huffed and took a strawberry Luke offered her. He sat beside Y/N, gesturing her to continue.

“You know, at least the Hermes cabin had another people. I’m stuck in this deserted cabin because my father finally decided that he wanted to see me! All I’m wondering is why it took so long. Why bother claiming me now?! Percy got claimed in under five days. I know people who have been claimed in one. Why did it take me ten years?! At least I know why I always attract trouble now. It’s because Zeus, that utter man whore, is my dad!”

Luke’s eyebrows silently raised at her words. “You’re welcome in the Hermes cabin any time, Y/N. Don’t forget that. I don’t think your dad was ignoring you… he was probably just waiting.”

“Yeah. Waiting until I finally proved myself to him. Because a child of Zeus should be a prodigy. No normal feat is allowed. It has to be impressive to gain his attention. How dumb.” Y/N scoffed.

“I was fine without him. I’ve gone my entire life never hearing from him and after ten years of being at camp, suddenly he wants to play daddy? He should’ve left me alone. But hey, at least you guys have more room in the Hermes cabin. I heard Chiron was going to move me.”

“What? But you’re practically part of the family. I mean, not exactly. It’d be weird if we were related because… you know… we’re friends and being such good friends with siblings seems weird.” Luke spoke so fast that Y/N couldn’t understand him.

She silently stared at him. “… You’re weird. Chiron just wanted to make more room for the newcomers. And, you know, I had been there for so long that I wasn’t considered new.”

“You okay, though? Your cuts aren’t still hurting? You don’t feel sick, right?” Luke carefully inspected her face and bruised arms, eyebrows furrowed in worry.

“Luke, I’m fine.” She reassured him, laughing. “Nothing hurts anymore.”

“Guess I’ve got to let you win the next game now.” He sighed. “I can’t believe you guessed Poseidon and got it right.”

“I took a wild guess. I wasn’t expecting it to be correct.”

Luke shrugged and stood up. “I need to go check up on some kids. A new group just arrived. Will you be alright by yourself? I can always go get Clarisse.”

Y/N stared up at him and a part of Luke wished she would ask him to stay. To stay in the stuffy cabin and just… talk.

“I think I need some alone time right now.” She softly smiled, resisting the urge to ask him not to walk out, to keep her company. “I just need to process all the shit that went down.”

Luke chuckled, ruffling her hair. “That’s my girl.” He began to walk away before he turned around last minute. “Hey, Y/N… thanks for staying by my side.”

“No problem. Thanks for being my friend, Luke.”

With a wounded heart and the embarrassment of being friend-zoned hanging high over his head, Luke walked out of the Zeus cabin.

Y/N didn’t see Luke again until a few days later. He was always so busy with the new kids but he still had time to leave a small box of strawberries on her porch.

It was dinner when Y/N could finally speak to Luke. She smiled at him and subtly waved and he grinned back. He had been talking with Chris about a boring topic but his eyes lit up when he saw Y/N. Luke stood up to sit with her before he was quickly intercepted.

“Luke.” One of the new girls said, staring up at him with her big doe eyes. She was claimed the moment she stepped into camp by Aphrodite. She seemed to already be her mother’s favourite. “Are you free to sit with me and my friends? We want to ask you a few questions.”

Luke was pulled away by the girl, leaving Y/N to watch him sheepishly grin. Y/N’s smile faltered. “I think he’s avoiding me.” She muttered to Percy, resting her cheek on the palm of her hand. She felt a twisted knot of jealousy well up as a girl giggled and grabbed Luke’s arm. And he let her.

The younger boy looked up in confusion. “Who? Luke? I don’t think so. Girls just seem to really like him.”

Y/N frowned but didn’t say anything else. She could only stare again as the girls around Luke laughed as he uttered something with a bashful smile.

“I’m turning in early.” Y/N said, standing up. She pushed her plate of dessert towards Percy, who slowly took it.

“You good?” He asked.

“Yeah. I’m not feeling well so I think I’m going to sleep early. Good night, Percy.” She deeply inhaled as she walked away, catching Luke’s attention.

“Excuse me, ladies. I’ll be back. I need to talk to someone.” He hurriedly got up, racing after Y/N. Percy, who was eating his second serving of cake, muffled a laugh. Luke was so whipped.

“Y/N.” The brunette boy finally caught up to her. He grabbed her arm, spinning her around. “Why are you leaving early? We haven’t talked for weeks so I thought we could use today to catch up.”

Y/N stared at him in confusion before she turned her head and quietly laughed. She covered her mouth to conceal the noise. “Luke… it’s only been three days.”

His face dropped and he cleared his throat. “I know… I was testing you. That’s all.” Yet his eyes looked at everything but Y/N. “So, how has your cabin been?”

“Lonely. It doesn’t feel the same without Chris ranting about Clarisse.” Y/N sighed, lightly biting the inside of her cheek.

“I’m not sure if I can rant about Clarisse like Chris but I could try keeping you company.” Luke offered, gazing at Y/N with eyes that begged her to agree.

She merely shrugged, not stopping Luke from strutting into her cabin and lying down on her bed. He outstretched his arms, confusing Y/N. “Hug.” Was all he said.

Y/N was never much of an affectionate person but Luke certainly was. His gestures ranged from secretly fiddling with her fingers to picking her up and swinging her around in the middle of the battle arena.

Begrudgingly, Y/N closed the distance between them. Luke grinned, pulling her closer. A few moments later, Y/N attempted to pull away. Luke prevented her from doing so. “Five more minutes.” He whispered in her ear.

But those promised five minutes turned into an hour.

And a peaceful hour turned into all night.

And all night turned into the sun rising and Clarisse waking the pair up.

“So this is where you’ve been hiding, Luke.” The Ares girl snickered, folding her arms over her chest. “Your siblings are wondering where you went. I assume by the lack of clothes on the floor that you two did nothing. How surprising for you, Luke.”

“Clarisse.” Y/N warned, sitting up.

“Okay, okay. I’m going. See you at breakfast, Y/N.” Clarisse sent her friend a teasing wink before she slithered off, laughing to herself.

“Sorry. I fell asleep.” Luke muttered, stretching. He not-so-subtly placed an arm around Y/N and when she didn’t shove him away, he smiled.

“It’s fine. I’ve already prepared myself for whatever gossip is about to spread around camp.” Y/N leaned back, shaking her head, while Luke chuckled.

“Nothing we haven’t dealt with before.” Luke retorted.

Camp Half-Blood seemed obsessed with the little thing going on between Y/N and Luke. Friendship, romance, confusing situationship. The campers called it many things.

“I’m so tired.” Y/N muttered, rubbing her tired eyes. Luke took that as his chance to gaze at her. His eyes traced over the bridge of her nose and the curve of her Cupid’s bow.

He smiled to himself, pressing his face deeper into the crook of Y/N’s neck.

“Luke. We need to get up.” As if suddenly uncomfortable with his close proximity, Y/N stood up.

“Oh. Yeah. I know how you can’t miss breakfast because you get cranky without it.” Luke chuckled while Y/N shoved him.

“Get out, Luke!” Y/N exclaimed, throwing a pillow at him. He bellowed out a laugh as he ran towards the exit.

“See you at breakfast, sweetheart!”

Y/N, with flushed cheeks and a racing mind, barged into the Ares cabin. “Clarisse.” She said, holding onto the doorframe for support. “I need your help.”

“What do you need?” Clarisse questioned as they walked side by side. Y/N sighed.

“Well, for starters, Luke is acting weird. I mean, he was always kind of weird but it’s gotten… more extreme. He’s getting so close and… calling me these pet names. What am I supposed to do? And why does it make me feel shy? Clarisse, help me!”

Y/N gripped her friend’s shoulders tightly. Clarisse lightly snorted. “Y/N, he’s just in love. Let the boy be.”

“In… love? W-With… me? In love with me?!” Y/N’s mind was spinning by now and it looked like this was her mid-life crisis. “He’s not… he can’t be… no… no… No! I have to go, Clarisse!”

Clarisse watched as Y/N sprinted off with the speed of a lightning bolt. “Haha. It’s so fun messing with them.”

“Hey, Clarisse. What’d you say to Y/N?” Luke immediately filled in Y/N’s spot. He furrowed his eyebrows, glancing at Y/N.

“I just told her how in love you are with her.” Clarisse winked and laughed at Luke’s appalled face.

“You… did what?” He questioned, panicking. “Why… why would you do that?! Clarisse! Shit!”

Luke, just like Y/N, rushed off. Clarisse smiled again. “So fun.”

Y/N hid within the comforts of her own cabin. She was supposed to teach some of the newbies archery but she was sure Clarisse could fill in for her.

“Luke… in love with me… no way.” She shook her head and deeply sighed, clutching onto her blanket. “He likes that Aphrodite girl.”

“Hey, sweetheart.” Speak of the devil. Luke opened the door, grinning at her. “Sorry I’m late. I tried meditating but I ended up falling asleep.” Classic him. “I brought you some food. I gotta teach some kids sword-fighting soon but I thought I’d just leave this here.”

Luke had one leg out of the door before Y/N stopped him. “Luke, can you maybe, I don’t know… stay over tonight? Again? It feels less lonely with you.” Y/N spoke slowly, as if testing the waters.

“Uh, yeah. Yeah. Sure. I’d be happy to keep you company. You can count on me, Sparky.”

Y/N scoffed, staring at Luke with her lips parted. “Sparky? No way are you calling me that.”

“Too bad. See ya, Sparky!” Luke managed to close the door before the pillow Y/N tossed his way hit him. She scoffed, looking around yet no words came out of her mouth.

“Sparky… Sparky?!” Y/N exclaimed in disbelief. “What sort of nickname is that?!”

Luke, who stood outside the door and heard Y/N, chuckled. He ran his tongue over his teeth, “Cute.”

A quiet knock on the door interrupted Y/N’s half-conscious nap. She stumbled to the entrance, slowly twisting the knob. “Hey.” She mumbled to Luke, who was holding an armful of snacks.

“Hey, Sparky.” He greeted her with his usual boyish smile. “Did I wake you?”

“I was just taking a small nap. You can always let yourself in, by the way.” Y/N muttered, yawning.

“I didn’t wanna be rude.” Luke replied as he stepped inside, brushing past Y/N. “Hey. I have an idea.” He suddenly said, spinning around. Y/N raised her eyebrows, gesturing him to continue. “I know you don’t like hanging out in this cabin so what do you say we check out the lake?”

“That’s breaking the rules.” Y/N said, shaking her head.

“Come on, I wanna go on a walk. And I’m already breaking rules being here. A few more can’t hurt.”

Y/N wanted to say no but how could she when Luke was looking at her like that?

“Fine.” She softly agreed. Luke dropped the snacks onto Y/N’s bed before dragging her out of her cabin. She didn’t even have time to grab a jacket.

Luke placed a finger over his lips, telling Y/N to be quiet. The two carefully creeped through the words, quietly giggling as they shoved each other.

“It’s prettier at night.” Y/N whispered, staring at the lake that sparkled in the moonlight. Luke smiled, nodding his head.

“Yeah.” He replied, but he wasn’t looking at the glittering water. He was looking at Y/N. “It’s absolutely beautiful.”

Y/N turned her head, faltering when she saw that Luke was already gazing at her. His lips curved into a bright smile.

“So, so… beautiful.” He repeated, staring into her eyes.

“Luke.” She muttered, thickly gulping. Butterflies swirled around in her stomach. After years of pushing down her growing feelings for Luke, they were coming back.

“Y/N.” He chuckled, adjusting his stance. But he slipped and fell into the lake. Y/N gasped, staring into the murky darkness.

“Luke?” She called out. “Luke!” He resurfaced, spitting out a mouthful of water. A few moments passed before Y/N burst into laughter. She stepped forward but tripped over a stray tree root. She hit the water with a loud slap, shocking Luke. He gasped, quickly swimming over. “Sparky, you good?” Luke questioned, holding her tightly.

She coughed. “It hurt a little but I’m good. Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah. I’m good. Thanks for asking, Sparky.” He twirled a strand of Y/N’s wet hair around his finger, his gaze flickering to her lips. “Don’t kill me for this, Y/N.” He whispered, leaning forward.

His lips pressed against Y/N’s, who froze in shock. The kiss only lasted a moment before Luke pulled away, holding back the animalistic urge to do it again.

“I won’t kill you… if you don’t kill me.” Y/N quietly responded, grabbing Luke by the front of his shirt and tugging him forward.

The second kiss was less controlled, more wild. Luke held Y/N tightly, scared she would slip away if he lowered his guard. In this moment, Luke didn’t care about his drenched t-shirt or his soaking hair. All he cared about, and had cared about for the last few years, was the girl in front of him

“You kissed?!” Clarisse screamed, tugging on the ends of her curled hair.

“Hey! I don’t want everybody to know!” Y/N hurriedly shushed the girl. They were hanging around in the arena for some extra sword training and Y/N clumsily mentioned last night.

“Okay, but seriously. Reel back. You guys kissed? Not once, but twice? Oh, man, Y/N. You are so whipped for Luke!”

“I am not! Besides,” Y/N fidgeted with her fingers as she spoke, “I heard one of the new Aphrodite girls is interested in Luke.”

“What? And you’re just gonna let her have him? You’ve been crushing on Luke since you first saw him.”

“I wouldn’t call it that! It was admiration.” Y/N quickly snapped to defend herself. Clarisse mockingly raised an eyebrow.

“You couldn’t stop gushing over how he pushed you out of harm’s way when you got claimed.” The Ares kid pointed out.

Y/N huffed. “I mean, I’m a feminist, obviously. But… I wouldn’t really mind him saving me. I’m not entirely opposed… to the idea. I’m just torn, okay?!”

“What are you confused about? Luke obliviously has the hots for you too.”

“Luke and I have been good friends for ages! I’ve known him for ages too! If we start dating and it goes up in flames… I don’t only lose a partner but I also lose a friend! There’s so many factors to consider. So many things that could go wrong.”

“You already kissed. Sooner or later, he’s gonna confront you.” Clarisse’s eyes flickered to a figure behind Y/N, “And looks like he chose now. You wanna talk to him or do you want me to make a distraction?”

“Distraction, please. I’m not ready. I need to understand my own feelings before dealing with his.” Y/N practically begged Clarisse. Being such a good friend, the daughter of Ares nodded.

“I got your back, girl.” She walked past Y/N, blocking Luke’s path. “Yo, Luke, you interested in having a little spar?”

“Uh, actually, I need to talk to Y/N.” Luke uttered, glancing over at the H/C-haired girl.

“Y/N needs to check on someone. One of the Ares kids got badly injured. You go ahead, Y/N. I’ll be with you soon.” Clarisse waved her off. Y/N silently hurried off, avoiding all eye contact with Luke.

She wasn’t ready to face him just yet. I mean, what do you say to a friend you kissed? More like made out with. And passionately, might I add. Beside a lake at night.

Y/N knew Luke would go looking for her an hour before curfew, so that’s exactly why she sought refuge in the Ares cabin.

“This feels stupid.” She murmured as she rolled under one of the bed, shooing the dust away.

“He’s obviously going to try and ask Clarisse about your whereabouts. You only have to hide under there until he leaves.” Erin, a girl who was a year younger than Y/N, spoke. As predicted, Luke knocked at the door.

“Hey.” He said when Erin swung it open. “Is Y/N or Clarisse here? I need to talk to ether of them but Y/N would be preferred.”

Erin shook her head. “No. Clarisse is showering right now. Maybe check Apollo’s cabin for Y/N. She might be helping out with the injured. She does that sometimes.”

The second Luke disappeared, Y/N crawled out from under the bed. She combed away the dust in her hair. “I know what you’re thinking.” She grumbled, looking up at Erin. “Why am I going through all this trouble? It’s complicated. I’m not ready to face him… yet.”

Erin hummed as she stepped towards Y/N. “None of us will be helpful with advice but if you really want help, visit the Aphrodite cabin.”

That’s how Y/N found herself standing on a porch decorated with pink and hearts and shining pearls. She sighed to herself before she hesitatingly knocked. A short blond girl answered the door immediately.

“We’ve been waiting for you.” She said while Y/N stared at her in discomfort. “Not in a creepy way, though. I swear. We knew you’d need help with you-know-who so we kind of planned it already. Come in.”

The girl warmly guided Y/N inside, beaming. “Our head counsellor isn’t here at the moment but Mai should be plenty of help!” The blond girl pointed over to a brunette who sat on her bed, reading a book. She was dressed in black shorts and a pink crop top. But when Mai looked up, Y/N was sure she was judging her.

“On second thought,” Y/N nervously said, “Maybe I should come back another time. Maybe in the afternoon?”

“The time you come doesn’t matter.” Mai piped up, closing her book. She gazed at Y/N curiously. “You’re afraid of expressing your feelings, aren’t you?”

“I didn’t know this was a therapy session.” Y/N lightly joked.

“Y/N, it’s obvious to everybody that you harbour some feelings towards Luke.” Mai said, pressing her pink-tinted lips into a thin line. “You guys are like the dynamic duo. I understand that dating someone who’s also a friend is scary but sometimes you’ve got to take the risk.”

“If you’re scared about going back to your cabin and running into Luke, you can crash here for the night.” The blonde girl from before offered. Nobody else seemed to have any problems with that so Y/N agreed.

She ended up on the bunk next to Mai, her unlicensed love therapist. Y/N tossed and turned but she still couldn’t fall asleep. She quietly groaned, rubbing her eyes.

“Can’t sleep either, huh?” Mai piped up, pursing her lips.

“No. I can’t help but worry.”

“Let me ask you one question, Y/N. Do you like him?”

“Luke?”

“I didn’t say a name.”

Y/N groaned again. “Fine. You got me. Yes. I guess I like him. I like his smile and how he’s always giving me food and how he barges in when I’m feeling lonely. I think his curled hair is adorable and there’s no other guy better-looking than him to me. But… I’m scared that I just like his platonically. Or what if we do date and I end up losing him?”

Mai smiled. “Don’t stress over it too much. You’re the daughter of Zeus, after all.”

“Yeah, thanks. Good night, Mai.”

“Night, Y/N.”

Luke approached Y/N the next day at breakfast. He let out a subtle sigh of relief when she didn’t run away. “Hey,” He whispered to her, tapping her shoulder and interrupting her conversation with Erin and Clarisse. “Can we talk? Alone?”

“Uh, yeah.” Y/N exchanged looks with both of the girls, who nodded and mouthed good luck. “What did you want to talk about?” Y/N asked when they were in the safety of her cabin and away from all the prying eyes. She played with the hem of her bright orange shirt.

“Forgive me for how blunt I’m going to be but what are we, Y/N?” Luke asked, not beating around the bush.

“We’re friends.” Y/N choked out, her conversation with Mai last night going down the drain. Perhaps it was selfish but a part of her wanted to remain friends because at least that way, neither of them would get hurt.

“No.” Luke wildly shook his head, “Friends don’t kiss. Friends don’t spend the night in the other’s cabin. Friends don’t look at each other like we do. Friends don’t sneak out in the middle of the night to go to a lake and end up making out! And now you’re ignoring me!”

His voice increased in volume the more he spoke.

“That was a mistake, Luke! I-I didn’t meant to! It just happened! I’m not ignoring you! What makes you think that?!”

“Well, what am I supposed to think, Y/N? You’re always running off and our conversations are up and down now. Sometimes we don’t talk for days! Sometimes you seem obsessed with me! I don’t know what to think!”

“That’s rich, coming from you!” Y/N furrowed her eyebrows. “If you’re not with Chris then you’re with that Aphrodite girl! You practically ignore me when you’re with her!” Y/N harshly poked his chest.

“I do not! And back to the previous conversation, was it really a mistake? Was hugging me a mistake? Was staring so adoringly at me a mistake? Was kissing me a mistake?! Maybe it was a mistake to you, but it wasn’t to me.” Luke caressed her face, holding it tightly. “Kissing you… will never be a mistake to me. Never, ever.”

Y/N gulped, practically shaking in Luke’s embrace. His lips lightly brushed her’s and she flinched.

“Sparky- Princess- Y/N,” He finally decided on what to call her in the heated moment. “I have feelings for you. And I have for a long time. So if you don’t like me back… just tell me. Because I can’t spend the rest of my life chasing after you. I get that you might be in denial but once I walk through those doors, I’m giving up.”

“Luke…”

“Do you like me or not?”

“Luke… please…” Y/N didn’t really know what she was begging for. Tears welled up in her eyes as he took a small step towards the door.

“Do you like me or not?” He repeated in a firmer tone.

Y/N silently stared at the ground, her hands clenched into fists.

“I guess I was wrong about you returning my feelings… I’m sorry for bothering you. I’ll leave now.”

Y/N’s body moved on its own as she reached out to grab his arm and harshly pull him back. Her voice was supposed to be gentle but hanging out with Clarisse seemed to have an impact on her.

“Of course I like you, Luke! How could I not? But I’m afraid and confused and I don’t know what to do. I see the way other girls look at you. They like you. And I’m scared that I don’t stand a chance against them. And what if we mess up, Luke? If we date then break up, we won’t be able to be friends again. I can’t handle that!”

“I don’t think I can be just friends with you right now, Y/N.” Luke softly replied, taking Y/N’s hand in his and pressing a light kiss to it. Y/N stared at him with flushed cheeks. “I don’t care about any of those other girls. The only person I care about is you. We don’t have to rush into a relationship but I just need to hear you say that you like me. That’s all I need for now. Can you do that for me?”

Y/N shakily inhaled. “I…” She hesitated. “I like you, Luke.”

Luke pulled her into a hug, smiling as he inhaled the sweet scent of Y/N’s perfume. “That’s all I needed to hear, Sparky.”

[lilyarchived]

too late [john price]

a/n: I wasn't originally gonna write anything yet because I still feel absolute dogshit, but this post by @gloomyyangel was too yummy to ignore.  I don’t really like this but what else can I do? Write some more? (gunshots)

warnings: smut after keep reading! (go away minors), swearing, hurt NO comfort, fem reader, mean!price at the start, 1.7k words oops, Lowkey abrupt ending.

summary: you let price imagine you as his ex wife because it will hurt even more to let him go, but what happens if he finally tries to make it up to you?

“F-fuuuck..” your husband groans. “Feels,, sso good, angie..” The sound of another woman’s name should be enough to make you feel bad, be enraged, scream at him, go apeshit crazy, right? Your whimpers of pleasure say so otherwise. It has been like this for years, you’ve come to terms that your husband, Captain John Price, will always see you as his ex wife. At some point you feel bad for yourself, you wouldn’t have let this shit slide. Hell, you wouldn’t even settle for a rich, handsome man all because he told you women should just stay quiet. The bitch slap you gave that man before storming out the restaurant stays engraved in the back of your mind, good days. 

But now? Now you’re settling for a man to imagine as if you’re his ex? Since when did your standards fall down to the deepest pit in the ocean? “ ‘m close, fuck, so tight for me.” You didn’t know whether to feel flustered or disgusted at the praise, knowing damn well he’s talking to angie in his mind. You gasp as your orgasm suddenly takes over your whole body, basking in that sweet, sweet pleasure. Hey, he can be a dick husband and still make you cum, nothing wrong with that. He follows suit after a few more thrusts, his hands beside your head grasping at the satin sheets. His moans ring through your ear until he finally plops down beside you.

You don’t expect him to clean up. At Least not like he used to. You get up to clean yourself before going back in the room with a warm and wet washcloth. You clean your husband up before noticing he’s already fast asleep. How did you ever get here? From your handsome Captain flattering you, taking you out on dates, treating you as if you are the sun keeping him warm, putting your pleasure first, and actually caring about you; to this man, ever so distant, calling you his ex wife’s name, never talking to you unless it’s work related or if he needs to let out some energy. And why the hell are you letting this happen? A man? Taking advantage of you? Making you some sort of sex doll?

You wish you could just be mad about it, scream and punch and cry, do anything to avenge your poor self. Yet you can’t. You love him too much, you love him like he painted the morning orange sky above, you love him like he hung up the moon and stars. You love him. Only Simon knows about his behaviour, you were a bit sceptical telling him everything since he always thought so highly of the captain, you feared he would take his side and tell you to get over yourself. You hadn’t expected him to pull you in a tight hug and whisper to you that you should leave him. You cried for the first time in a long time that night.

Snapping back to reality, you get dressed in your sleeping clothes and settle next to your sleeping husband. Staring into his shut eyes, wondering where you went wrong. You let your eyes droop to sleep, preparing your mind for another unbearable day tomorrow.

--

As months passed, you and John were still together, happy, no, but still married. You start to grow numb, never once batting an eyelash when he cums again after moaning “angie”. What an annoying sound in your ears it was. Don’t get me wrong, you still felt good whenever he decided to initiate something sexual with you. Your moans and whines fill the air alongside the sound of slapping skin. Simon gives you the usual disappointed look, but you honestly can’t tell if that’s his resting face or not. Then, everything changes.

“Darling, d’you wanna get food with me?” You freeze on the empty couch in the equally empty rec room. The sound of John’s voice making your heart skip a beat. He has never asked you to eat out with him, well ever since he normalised moaning a different name in bed. It’s like all his intimacy and chivalry left with your dignity. “Umm, I just had dinner Sergeant Garrick, Captain. I’m set for the night..” you reply after you peeked behind you, making sure he was talking to you. “At ease, I’m talking to you as my wife, [Y/N]” You let out a forced chuckle before going back to the book you were reading. “Why were you out with Kyle?” you hear him mutter. He can’t be serious. “..We were both free and hungry?” you reply in a meek voice. “I was free. Couldn’t even be bothered to ask your husband first?” 

The way your blood was boiling the moment that stupid sentence left his mouth. Why does he care? Does he think that he can moan a different woman’s name in bed and get away with it but you going out for dinner with a friend is all of a sudden, adultery? “You told me you’d be busy the whole day. Why is it a big deal I went out with Gaz? It’s not like I’ve been saying his name during sex.” You quickly shut your eyes, you didn’t mean to say that last part out loud. You prepared for his anger, instead you were met with a deep sigh. “I’ll let you be.” He says defeatedly, walking away from the scene. You see a confused Simon in the corner before squealing out of surprise. “How long have you been there, freak?” Simon only chuckles, “Tha’ don’t matter, Cap’n looks devastated. Ya think he’s been feeling guilty?” He sips on his black tea, you remove the hand clutching your shirt near the beat of your heart. “I don’t know, and I don’t care.” You fall face down on the couch to scream, ignoring Simon’s deep voice laughing at your pain.

What you both didn’t know is that John has been feeling bad for how he’s been treating you. He would notice your soft giggles echoing the hallways as Johnny picks you up and throws you over his shoulder, at how pretty you look in casual clothes, how your hair flows during bar hopping nights with the team, how your face shines in the city lights. How your nose scrunches when you get teased by Simon for liking your coffee too sweet. How beautiful you sound when he’s feeling you up and down, your surprised gasps as he rubs your clit in circles, how sinfully angelic you look when you come undone. Fuck, he really messed up.

So he makes it up to you, he cuddles after ruining your guts, he cleans you up, he wakes up before you to cook you breakfast. He makes your coffee the way you like it, gets you flowers every now and then, kisses you more passionately rather than his usual rushed ones. He loves you tenderly but it all seems foreign, even though he used to do it for the first few years of your relationship, you had already forgotten how it feels like to be loved by this man.

You feel nauseated. How could he go back to the way things were, like he hasn’t been giving you the cold shoulder for months now? Why now? WHY now? Why NOW? You stay cautious, every sweet move he’s doing puts you on edge. You knock on your Lieutenant’s door before he tells you to “come in” with that same ol’ gruff voice. As the night rolls in, you’ve already told him everything Price was doing, how he kept acting lovingly without addressing the past few months. He tells you you have two options: to confront him, or to go along with it. Neither of it seems appealing to you but deep down, you know he’s right. 

You thank Simon for the advice leaving his room to confront your husband tonight. The minute you walk into John’s room, his face lights up and asks you if you’ve eaten.  You scoff as you tell him you need to talk. “Why are you doing this to me, John?” you finally speak up after staring into the same eyes you fell for. His face drops, eyebrows furrowing, “What do you mean by that, dove?” A sigh escapes your soft lips, “Don’t call me that, John. Don’t act as if you weren’t just calling me, imagining me as your ex wife during our most intimate times. Don’t act like you haven’t been ignoring me, acting as if I didn't exist ‘til you needed work done or if you needed to have a shag.” You let out, tears staining your cheeks. John reaches out to wipe them but you move his hand away. “I mean, was it all a joke to you? Did I mean nothing but a body for you to imagine as if you were still together with her?” John finally talks, “You know it’s not like that, [Y/N]-” 

“Then what, John? What is it like? God, you- you” hyperventilating now, you search for the right words to come out. “You changed me. Acting like nothing’s wrong and being all sweet won’t work on me. I gave up on whatever our relationship was a long time ago.” His breath hitches, “Baby, please-” “I should go.” you cut him off. “Please, I’ll do better, we can start over?” he pleads, grabbing your arm. “It’s not that easy, John.” “Loving you is easy. I love you like it’s breathing. Please. You mean the world to me. I can’t let you go knowing i fucked up everything.” He sounds desperate now.

“I love you, John. But I don’t think I can ever love you like I used to.” He looks up to you, bloodshot eyes as tears pour over his face. You reach over to wipe them away. He leans into your touch. “Don’t give up on me, please?” You give him one last broken smile, “We’re way past not giving up, my love.” 

---

taglist for the people in the original post's comments LMAO (lmk if u want me to untag muheheh): @blackhawkfanatic@tf141gloryhole@montenegroisr@princesslikesfanfics@hoelesss

[diorgirl444]

to all the greasers i’ve loved before - chapter 1.

warnings: bad writing (my first time writing a multiple part fic ), don’t let the picture of dallas fool you he barely features in this chapter i’m afraid, fem! curtis reader though it is never specified whether the reader is a bio daughter or adopted and so can be read as either, doesn’t follow book canon, 1060 words <3

you had always loved love. your parents were more than happy to recount stories of how you would wander around the house dressed in your nightdress with the lace curtain over your hair clutching onto a small posy of daisies and dandelions. you had called it playing weddings and it was your all-time favourite game.

this obsession with love trickled into other things with most of the cookies you baked being heart-shaped or being the only person to still give everyone, even the weird kids handmade valentines after it was deemed uncool at about thirteen. yes, you loved love but there was an important differentiation, you loved the idea of it. so you supposed it was natural that you began to write love letters the way some people wrote diary entries.

you kept them in a teal silk hatbox of your mothers which had long since lacked the hat intended to be in it. there was one letter for every boy you had liked at one time - five in total. Bryon from volunteering at the hospital, Johnny from freshman homecoming, Dallas from two summers ago, Randy from Model Un and Keith since forever. you supposed your letters were less i love you love letters and more goodbye love letters. they were a way of accepting the crush whilst also allowing yourself to let go and move on. that you could sing to the Ronettes and not be singing about him, that you could buy milkshakes at the diner and not wonder which flavour he’d choose. the letters set you free - at least they were supposed to…

Keith Jacobs was a friend of your brothers but you’d always been a bit in love with him. his mother moved to Tulsa all alone with one son and a baby girl just across the street from you and so your parents, lovely people that they were invited the Jacobs round for a fried chicken dinner. you made a peach cobbler for dessert and when Keith asked for seconds - you glowed with pride. by the time he’d finished his third helping you’d already decided what shade of white your wedding dress would be and from that day he was practically always at your house. there was time when it was the four of you, Daryl, Soda, Pony and Keith but then your parents died and it all changed.

Daryl had to grow up and then the other three all started hanging out later and getting into fights which was fine because you had Angela and Sylvia. well, you had Sylvia till the summer before high school. then suddenly over that summer, she started smoking cheap cigarettes and wearing tight jeans where you were still happy to read a silly romance novel and bake cookies. angie was more like Sylvia really but she was like a street dog who you’d given a treat to - loyal to a fault and kept coming back.

which leads you to where you are now, the last day before junior year and the house is packed. you and Daryl were determined to keep up the tradition of home-cooked meals, mainly for Ponyboy but if you were honest with yourself sometimes as you mashed the potatoes with the radio turned up you would close your eyes and pretend your parents were slow dancing behind you. it turned out that most of your brother's friends didn’t normally eat well so they would often come round too. privately you wish they wouldn’t, they were too loud to you with no manners and they didn’t wash their hands before they ate. but for Ponyboy, the baby of the family you put up with it. You break out of these thoughts when Two-bit speaks, because as you hate to remember he’s Two-bit now not Keith anymore.

“guess who scored themselves a girlfriend”

You choke on your broccoli as all the boys cheer and clap him on the back. your ears ring and you feel like you’re gonna be sick. quietly you whisper to Daryl.

“I don’t feel very well. I think it’s my monthlies - I’m gonna go to bed”

he nods ruffling your hair affectionately as if you're still five and not almost seventeen. you don’t mind - that’s Darry’s way - playing dad to you and your brothers.

“g’night kid I’ll bring you some hot cocoa up and one of those hot water bottles wrapped in a towel.”

as you retreat to your bedroom with tears stinging you hear a chorus of “goodnights” and “feel better soon” from all apart from Dallas. despite your pain you still have the energy to roll your eyes, god forbid Winston cares about someone other than himself for once.

once you clasp your box and retreat under the floral quilts that your mom made you finally allow the tears to fall as you reread the letters. you decide tomorrow you’ll draft a new letter for two-bit, an official goodbye to the foolish hope you’ve clung to for so long. You hear the click of the look, and hastily you shove the letters back into the hatbox and wipe any resounding tears. Pony perches on the edge of your bed holding out the hot cocoa and water bottle that Darry had promised you.

“sissy, you okay?”

you bite back a laugh when he calls you that, a name that he called you as a baby that just stuck. then you watch his eyes catch the hatbox with curiosity.

“what’s that?”

clutching the box to your chest you speak.

“nothing just an old hatbox of mom’s that I keep recipes in. I’ve been working on a new strawberry shortcake one.”

you lie easily knowing that since that’s Pony’s favourite dessert it’ll distract him. he grins widely at you and you are reminded how young he is like a stab in the gut.

“promise?”

he says holding his pinky finger out.

“promise baby, I’ll see you in the morning okay?”

standing up you say to him as you press a kiss to his forehead and place the box away in the top shelve of your wardrobe. he’s still at an age where he pretends that stuff grosses him out so he scowls childishly as he leaves the room. you slip into your white cotton nightgown and finally let sleep overtake you. you’ll deal with it all in the morning and yet in that weird stage between sleeping and awake, you swear you hear the door open once more…

hope you like it! xoxo, flo <3

@socgf @heart-shqped-box @jujuheartz13 @r0seb100d @cranberrv @anifever @notagreasernotasoc @honeysmoonn for now i’m just tagging all the people who expressed an interest but if you don’t wanna be tagged or wanna be added let me know <3

[rzyraffek]

Slashers with y/n that just gets along with everything

Like slasher could litteraly kill somone near y/n and she would be like alr alr whats really important is that you are happy🤠😎. Im sorry that first 2character had super long headcanons while last ones have way less :( I had no ideas Request open!

Billy Lenz

He always expects some sort of negative response when he calls people and when he heard new voice on the Phone he got even more exited cuz new person new reaction! He totally didnt expect her to just go "yeah yeah sure buddy, anyways... how is your day man? Cuz im so so tired...*starts normal converstation*

He probably tries to stay in character but he is so caught of Guard he doesnt know how to react really (hehe the table has turn)

Now he kinda hopes that she will pick up cuz shes very intresting😈 billy likey

"Ew its this creep again! He is asking for you y/n? Of please dont tell me you befriended him??" "So what? He said hes favourite fruit is strawberry he cant be that bad!" *billy saying slurs on the phone*

You need to constantly tell him that, no Billy no harrasing women isnt sexy, you arent quirky, you are mentally ill

"Y/n i killed that bitch that was gossiping about you 🧍 " "👍good for you billy im glad you found healthy way to cope with that negative emotion😇" "on god"

His whole moral compass is created around the simple question 'does it hurt y/n?' .1:no it doesnt so feel free to do it .2 do not do it, she will ban Billy from sweets (bad ending)

The man from hush

This guy. This dude. This Little gremlin. He is upset that he gets no reaction! Like please oh please act all angy when he 'acidently' shot tire in her car! But oh no ofc no, she had to be like "oh its okay honey i have backup in garage🥰" hes like HHUH SINCE WHEN WE HAVE GARAGE

Like tbh thats how i imagine how they met: he saw her, he wanted to hunt her, she was so chill that she didnt even leave her household while the power was off and he went inside and just saw her having lil nap on couch. 🧍🤨erm exuse me gurl im trying to roleplay epic hunter here tf

He probably kidnaped her cuz she was too weird to just kill her but he didnt want to risk her calling police. He probably tied her up and yeeted her on backseats. And then she begun judging music on the radio"yo big guy can i get some good music taste?" "What? Whats wrong with Taylor Swift?"

He will overshare everything to kinda check where is her limit if it comes to being chill "yeah so i killed this old lady.." "im sure you had good reason🥰" "🤨... anyways... yeah so i was drinking some redbull when some guy said i look ugly so i shoot his head off and-" "HEY HEY hold up geez you CANT drink Energy drinks?? Bestie you know it is unhealthy?? Also you like hunt for sport it will ruin your condition!? How you gonna shoot people with shakey hands?? You crazy or something?" "Damn😔"

Micheal myers

I tried to put him here but i realised he will be as chill as her.

Like he can give her gifts covered in blood and she' just going to clean it and wear it like nothing happened or completley ignore it

He cares about this stuff as much as y/n so like not at all. I mean tbh theres is a bit of difrence: shes at least positive about it! Like "yeah micheal go for it, love🥰😇 i know its hard to cope with trauma take it all out alr?" Shes trying to be a good supporting gf not her fault she never had serial killer bf!

Brahms Heelshire

He lives for attention! What do you mean the war crime he commited this lunch break is okay!?!? Baby pleasee

But this negativity disapears the moment he realised he can get a lot of positive attention when he will do some nice stuff! "Oh honey I didnt kill any rats today" "oh that's amazing brahms I'm sure you and the rats inside walls will get along well soon🥰" (rats in walls bully brahms)

Please complement him or he will get a tantrum and destroy something

Brahms and rats have very hard past i might do seperate hc about that

Ghostface

"Look babe! My newest victim *shows photo*" "ugh baby...😰 you NEED to buy new camera or watch some youtube tutorials about how to take good photos" "aw man whats wrong with my pictures 😔"

Otherwise y/n supports his hobbies! People need to grow😇 (and he needs to grow up)

If theres 2ghostfaces(like in most movies) they will bet money on how long you gonna keep this 'do whatever as long as youre happy' act. Well they didnt know that this wasnt an act but her personality

Also they will probably try to use this chillnes aginst her like "oooh y/n something terrible happened! I crushed my car oh what will i do!" "Alr bestie i will drive you over there😇" "😈omg you are so nice i totally didnt expect that(heheh i dont need to pay for gas today (hes very evil))

[perseidlion]

So I am a certified Catwin shipper. I have written a series that currently sits at 90k words that is casefic but also them getting together. But I am also a multishipper and have written some Payneland stories as well.

So I was understandably quite happy to hear we would've gotten Catwin in S2 because I love the dynamic and I love Lukas Gage and his performance.

But it has made me very sad to see how some people are genuinely upset by this news. I don't think it's justified, frankly. People are doing a lot of filling in the blanks, guessing, and supposition. Just because Catwin would have happened doesn't mean Payneland wouldn't have. Also, we have no idea the context in which all of this would have gone down.

It's important to remember that The Cat King also went on a journey and changed as a person throughout season 1 (as did all the characters.) He is not the same person who slapped the bracelet on Edwin when they first met and not just because he died and was resurrected.

He's matured, settled and grown. It's very possible this arc would have continued. Even if you hated TCK in S1, you may have come to love him in S2, or at least hate him less. Redemption arcs are great fodder for stories and I have no doubt the writers and Lukas would have done that kind of arc justice.

Or maybe Edwin would have had his hot girl summer and TCK was the same old lothario. In which case, he'd definitely be no threat to Payneland endgame. This scenario would make me sad for TCK because he does seem to have genuine feelings for Edwin beyond the sexual, but that was certainly a way they could have gone with it.

My point is, we're missing a lot of context. If you were to take plot points of S1 out of context as well, it would be very hard to envision the final product.

I mean:

Niko gets infested with dandelion sprites that nearly kill her. These sprites manifest with cartoon sparkles around her head and they feed on attention. When they get out of her brain, they're tiny snarky humans she keeps in a terrarium.

Jenny gets set up by Niko with a quiet librarian who turns out to be psycho killer stalker.

People jump off a lighthouse and get swallowed up by a giant angler fish who is siren-ing them to their death. Their ghosts linger, and this annoys the ghost who mans the lighthouse so he hires the boys. Charles yeets the Night Nurse into the fish, and inside she has a talk with an oddly calm and optimistic man. Oh, also the fish is called Angie and she didn't do any of this maliciously.

My point is, this show is camp. That's part of the charm of it. Camp plotlines sound absolutely wild when you distill them to one-liners. When you add in inciting incidents, context and character interactions, these turn from wacky scenarios into full, entertaining stories.

Please don't catastrophize based on crumbs! Whether we get a S2 or not, it's really not worth getting that worked up over. We can't draw conclusions based on what we've been given. It's all guesses, and it could have changed a million times before the episodes were finished.

Also please don't get upset at Catwin shippers for being happy about this. We just wanted to see more of Lukas and George interacting. Most of us are Payneland fans, too and understand that would be the most likely endgame.

[thisgirlnamedblusy]

i love your donnaxreader oneshots 🥲❤️‍🩹 may i request some angst?

the reader has been friends with Donna since childhood, and they're so close that they know each other's deepest secrets. when donna's parents die, the reader tries to stay with her but her family forbids her to do so, and donna ends up all alone.

not knowing her reasons, donna kept to herself all those years despite wanting to reach out to reader. donna's in love with her still, she never did forget her.

fast forward years later, donna went to the duke's to buy expensive pieces of cloth for her dolls, you know, the usual. but that time, reader was there too and donna grabbed the opportunity to talk to her.

when they chatted, donna was caught off-guard having found out reader was getting married to someone else soon.

donna doesn't want that, so, ehem, smut happens. but make it fluffy thoughhh and like donna was so gentle to reader because she doesn't want to hurt her, yet she's very possessive because she doesn't want reader to leave her for the second time.

please, make it happy ending 🥲

Yessss!!!! Thank you for your words and for your request!!! I'm sorry, I think it's maybe too long :S I hope you like it and sorry about the language mistakes!!! :)))))

Come back to me

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem!! Reader

Warnings: smut, Minors DNI, angst, fluff, happy ending

Word count: 9,422 (Again, I'm sorry for it being too long)

Summary:  After 18 years, she came back to you...

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

“Look at me! I'm the undisputed queen of the place!” you said amused, dangerously climbing a tree.

“(Y/N), Get… Get down from there, you, you'll hurt yourself,” your friend said, holding her doll in an adorable way, looking at you worriedly.

“I'm invincible, Donna, didn't you know that? I'm… Ah!” you said embarrassedly, interrupted by a branch that creaked under your feet, making you fall into the snow and proving your best friend right.

“So… Invincible, huh?” she said, looking down at you with a mocking smile, extending a hand to help you up.

You took it and brushed the snow off your dress, with a bright blush on your cheeks.

“I'm sure the tree was bewitched by the enemy…” you murmured, making your friend laugh amusedly, shaking her head.

You had always heard that village was the least suitable place for a ten-year-old girl like you, but you never found a reason to take that mantra for granted.

Daughter of farmers, from a family devoted to Mother Miranda, the Black Gods and the three Lords, your life had not been very different from that of the rest of the children of your age. But, by chance, one day you went into the forest, due to your constant thirst for adventure, meeting the one who would be your best friend forever, Donna Beneviento.

She was two years older than you, but she was completely alone. Her family was important in the village, the makers of those porcelain dolls that even you had. Even so, her daughter was a complete mystery.

Rumors said she had been born with a deformity, that she had two faces, four arms, absurd legends. Donna was a normal girl, with the only flaw being the lack of her right eye, according to what she told you, due to an accident.

Her family seemed to be cursed, even her little sister, Claudia, passed away a couple of years ago due to a strange illness.

There were no secrets between you, even when you were younger, you forged a bond that you thought was inseparable. You dared to leave aside your friends from the village, those boring and normal children, to cross that dangerous bridge and spend afternoons and afternoons with your friend Donna, with your best friend.

Your parents did not look favorably on that friendship, since they were convinced that poor girl was mentally ill. It could be true, you checked it several times, you knew that the doll that her father made her, Angie, was her only means of communication with others, well, with anyone other than you.

But after checking that every night you came back safe and sound, they decided to stop worrying about you, at least not that much.

“One day you're going to hurt yourself, (Y/N)…” the young Beneviento sighed, shaking her head. “I, I wouldn't like anything to happen to you.”

“Nothing will happen to me,” you said, calmer, rubbing your back due to that resounding fall. “What do you say, Angie?” you asked amused, looking at the doll that Donna was holding, her most faithful companion.

“Sure, (Y/N) is invincible!” Donna replied in a squeaky voice, pretending to speak for the doll, pretending that the two of them were completely different, something that fascinated you.

“See?” you said in an amused whisper, approaching a small cliff, which bordered Donna's family's land. “Come on, Donna, let's play to see who can throw the rocks the farthest.”

“It's, it's dangerous,” the young girl murmured, hiding her fear behind Angie, approaching you with an unsure step. You scolded and made a gesture with your hand to downplay it, throwing the first rock.

“Look, Donna, look how far I threw it,” you said excitedly, comically hitting the shoulder of the older girl, who smiled shyly, bending down to get another rock.

“I think I won,” she said satisfied, thus beginning another of your usual competitions.

“We'll see about that,” you challenged, putting all your strength into that childish rock throwing, thus spending another fun time, another day that was supposed to be boring.

“Hey, (Y/N)…” Beneviento murmured, with a more serious tone “What, what are you going to do when you're older?”

“Oh, well…” you sighed, a bit confused by that question. “My parents say that I'll have to get married and… Well, I guess I'll follow the family tradition and take care of the farm.”

Donna opened her mouth moving her doll and nodded, sighing in a melancholic way.

“What about you?” you asked, relaxing your throwing and sitting on the ground, where your friend joined you. “I guess you won't have to work, right? Your parents have a lot of money.”

“My father is teaching me to make dolls like him,” the brunette explained, playing with a bunch of grass that the snow took pity on. “He says that when I grow up, I will take his place.”

“Oh…”you said, open-mouthed, listening attentively to your friend, who seemed increasingly sad. “How cool, so you can continue living in that big house.”

“I, I don't think it's cool, (Y/N)…” she murmured, with some resentment in her voice, stopping moving the doll, as if she didn't even want to include it in the conversation.

“Your house is amazing, and it has a very cool waterfall, we could play throwing ourselves down it,” you said amused, giving her a little nudge.

“We would die horribly, (Y/N),” she answered with a dark voice. “I, I don't know, if, if I could, I would… I would leave this village.”

“The village? Why?” you asked a bit surprised. You had always known that world. You didn't seem as uncomfortable as your friend living there.

“Everyone in the village thinks that… That I'm a monster… I, I'd like to wake up one day and see… The, the sun shining on the horizon and… Hear the, the sea waves,” she said, as if she wasn't talking to you, but to herself.

“You're not a monster, you're my friend,” you said, saddened by those words. “Hey, you, you're Italian, aren't you?”

She nodded slowly, holding back a sob.

“My, my family is Italian,” she whispered, angrily pulling out several of those herbs.

“That, that's great because, because there's sun there, and it has a lot of sea…” you said trying to cheer her up, trying to keep her from being taken away by her demons again. “I'm sure that when you're older, you'll have so much money that you'll be able to go wherever you want.”

“I don't know but… But I'd be alone again,” she said, looking at the ground again. You answered her with a smile and a bright face, getting up from the snow.

“Okay, would you take me with you?”  you asked with a satisfied voice. “That way you wouldn't be alone.”

Donna stood up too, with a distrustful look, hugging the doll.

“Would you... Would you want to come with me?” Donna asked unsure, with a shy smile forming on her face.

“Of course, you're my friend, I would never leave you alone,” you said, nodding. She laughed happily and nodded enthusiastically.

“Really?” she asked, getting a little closer to you. “I would love to take you with me everywhere. Sure, it’s going to be quite funny.”

“Yes, we could play pirates in the sea and... And we could have everything we wanted. It would be great,” you fantasized, moving your arms in an exaggerated way.

“Yes, I... It would be great...” the young girl said, in a small voice.

“Mistress, Mistress Donna!” a male voice interrupted that endearing moment.

Josef, the family gardener ran towards you. He seemed nervous, upset, panting and putting his hands on your friend's shoulders.

“Josef, what's wrong? It's not dinner time yet,” Donna protested, speaking, as always, through her doll.

“Mistress Donna, I... I'm, I'm so sorry... Your, your parents have... They have...” the man said, bending down in front of the little girl, looking at her with deep sadness.

“My parents? What's wrong with them?” the doll asked.

The man looked at you and growled, looking back at his young mistress.

“Gods, Donna... They, they have...” he whispered, giving her the worst news she could have.

Totally unexpectedly, confirming the rumors of that cursed family, Lord and Lady Beneviento had decided to end their lives, throwing themselves down the estate's waterfall.

Poor Donna was left in shock, looking at the ground as the three of you returned to the house, while the gardener tried by all means to cheer up the young girl, without success.

You didn't know what to say, and you didn't want to either.

Your friend sobbed, hugging Angie in that gloomy mansion while Josef did what he could to comfort her.

“Why did they do it?” she sighed through tears, looking at you, who discreetly put a hand on her back, trying not to cry too. “Why, (Y/N)?”

“I, I don't know, Donna,” you whispered in a small voice, lost in your friend's sadness, guilty for having said that waterfall was the coolest thing in the world.

 “I know, I'm sure it was my fault... They, they hated me,” the young Beneviento sobbed, leaning on your shoulder, pulling on your clothes desperately. “They hated me because I wasn't as perfect as Claudia.”

“Don't say that, Mistress,” -the gardener intervened, separating her from you so she wouldn't accidentally hurt you. “Your parents loved you very much.”

“Now, now I'm alone,” she murmured after a few moments of heartbreaking crying. That was a good time to do something for her. “They've left me alone...”

“You're not alone, Donna, I'm here with you,” you said with a voice more mature than your age indicated, with the tireless desire to make her feel good, to see a smile on your best friend's face again.

The clock struck the time in a sinister way. You couldn't miss dinner, your parents would be angry.

“You’re going to leave me too,” the girl whispered, hugging her doll and moving away from your comfort.

“No, I will never leave you,” you said in a firm voice. “Now, now I have to go but, but I promise you that tomorrow I will come to see you, and the day after, and the next day too, every day.”

“Really?” Donna asked, with tears in her only eye, with the hope of her soul still burning. “Will you come every day?”

“Yes, yes every day, every day. I told you that I would never leave you alone,” you repeated excited to be able to see some light in her eye.

“Promise me,” she said, now with a voice that emanated a deep darkness. “You have to promise me.”

“I promise you,” you said smiling, hugging your best friend for the last time, leaving her alone in her pain.

“Come on, little one…” Josef said, putting a hand on your back to guide you towards the door, leaving Donna crying inconsolably again. “Mistress Donna is very lucky to have you, (Y/N).”

“She is my best friend, sir,” you murmured, taking one last look at that mess of tears and increasingly unhinged screams.

You didn't know it, but that would be the last time you would see her, the last time you would walk through those woods.

“Mm, it was to be expected,” your father murmured during dinner. “Those two freaks…”

“Poor girl…” your mother sighed, of course, joining your father's monologue about what had happened. “First it was her sister and then…”

“Don't pity her, Rose, I've always told you that family is cursed,” the man interrupted.

You didn't say anything. You just looked at your food, not hungry, not wanting to do anything other than being with your friend in those horrible moments.

“Let's hope the Black Gods take pity on their souls,” your mother said in a solemn tone, joining her hands to emphasize her devotion.

“Nonsense, those Beneviento have never had the favor of the Gods, I’m sure, I knew Giuseppe,” your father said, remembering that brief friendship with the family patriarch, that conversation he had with him the day you got lost in the woods and met Donna.

“You only spoke to him once, Dimitri,” your mother corrected, always being a little more sensible.

“Enough to realize that he was totally out of his mind,” he said, haughtily, drinking from his glass of wine. “And the same will happen to his daughter, you'll see…”

“Where are you going, (Y/N)?” your father asked when you, fed up with that horrible conversation, got up from the table. “You haven't had dinner.”

“I'm not hungry, father,” you whispered, with a tear in your eyes threatening to betray your sadness.

That night, you could only think about Donna, only about her sad look, about her desire to be better than her parents, to leave the village, a feeling she had and you didn't. Maybe if you hadn't distracted her, they could... No, you couldn't think that way. At that moment the most important thing was to take care of her, to keep your promise.

“I'll come at dinner time,” you said the next day, picking up your backpack, ready to see your friend, to spend the day with her, something that normally wasn't a problem for your parents. That day, the smiles turned into silence.

“Hey, hey, young lady, where do you think you're going?” your father asked, putting a hand on your shoulder.

“Donna's house, father,” you said sincerely. He put on a cold look and shook his head.

“No, no way, (Y/N),” he said in a stern voice, closing the door with a loud bang. “You will not go to that house again.”

“But, but father...” you protested incredulously at that strange attitude.

��Don't protest, young lady. I forbid it,” he insisted, abruptly removing your backpack from your shoulders and letting it fall to the floor.

“Dimitri, what harm can a little company do to that poor girl?” your mother protested, unsuccessfully trying to change his mind.

“That little nutcase brat doesn't worry me, I worry about (Y/N), what will happen if she loses her mind and hurts her?” your father said, raising his tone.

“She won't hurt me, father, she's my friend!” you shrieked in a childish way, desperate for that unexpected prohibition. –

“Your friend? Ha, she's a crazy, sick girl and she's not a good company for you,” he said, with a slightly calmer tone.

“Come on, darling, they've been friends for a long time and they've never…” your mother said, discreetly taking your side.

“Her parents didn't seem to pose any threat either, did they Rose? And look where they are now, at the bottom of the river. No, no, those things are inherited and I'm not going to allow that brat to hurt our daughter.”

“But father, I promised her, I promised her that I would be with her!” you protested again.

“There's nothing to say, (Y/N), forget about that Beneviento and start being what is expected of you,” your father whispered, moving away from you.

“Mom…” you whispered, pulling at your mother's dress.

She sighed and shook her head, with a different look.

“I'm sorry, (Y/N), but your father is right. That girl is not right in the head, honey…” your mother said, making you open your eyes in surprise at that change of mind.

“She is not right because she is alone, she needs me,” you pleaded, with tears already running down your cheeks.

“Nonsense,” your father muttered, ending that conversation, the worst of your life. “What she needs is to be locked up with that horrible doll. I'm not going to argue anymore, (Y/N), obey or there will be consequences.”

You couldn't do anything. It didn't matter how many times you cried, how many times you screamed, how many slaps you received for your insistence. You couldn't keep your promise.

Donna was left alone, you stopped being her friend involuntarily, forced to be with your mother and learn things that a good villager should know. You didn't want to play with anyone, the excitement typical of a girl your age faded after a few days, when you realized that, in truth, you would never see your friend again.

But you saw her, years later.

Accustomed to the idea of ​​having lost her, your life continued. You continued to grow. You continued to make your parents proud. Only an old photograph, taken by the old gardener, reminded you that you once had a friend, the best friend, and that you, you had failed her.

Being already a teenager, you discovered something disturbing, something that made you remember again what your sin had been, what had been the promise you could not keep.

Apparently, Mother Miranda had adopted a new daughter, one who would sit next to the rest of the Lords, as powerful as them, as fearsome as them. It didn't seem like something that interested you, until you heard her name: Donna Beneviento.

Your old friend was now in church, dressed entirely in black, with a veil covering her face, always accompanied by Angie, who seemed more alive than before.

She was no longer a child, she was a woman, like you, and you watched her every day, every time there was a mass, every time her dark gaze seemed to penetrate your insides. The years passed like a painful clock that never stopped counting the seconds, the hours that passed since that involuntary betrayal.

You could have apologized. You could have begged her to believe you, to be friends again. You didn't, you couldn't do it.

She was now a Lord, you were still a simple villager. The difference in power was overwhelming. Your attendance at mass was discreet, always trying to escape from her nonexistent gaze, sitting in the back row to avoid being recognized.

You knew she was watching you, you could feel it. But you, you didn't do anything. You didn't feel strong enough to do it, you felt ashamed, hurt for not being there for her when she needed you. The reasons didn't matter, what mattered was that you were her only friend, and you left her alone.

That shame for your past mistakes haunted you every day, every time you saw her black figure, her elegant walk, every time Donna Beneviento was present and you pretended not to be.

18 years after the fall of Beneviento…

“Don't let him fool you, (Y/N),” your tired mother said, sending you on errands as usual. You rolled your eyes and smiled, shaking your head.

“Not even someone like the Duke would be able to fool me,” you joked, picking up the list of items your parents wanted, frowning when you read one of them. “White fabric with ruffles? Mom…”

“It's the best, you'll look beautiful with that,” the woman said, with a tender smile, running her hand over your cheek, which you pushed away when you remembered the only thing you tried to forget day by day and that was getting closer and closer.

“I'd be prettier if you'd just leave me alone,” you hissed furiously, changing your happy face to a dark one, to one that indicated that your stomach was turning at the thought of it.

“It's for your own sake, darling, for the sake of...” she said, knowing that this horrible decision didn't make you the slightest bit happy.

“Yes, yes... For the sake of the family, I know,” you whispered with irony. “Like everything you do, right? It's all for my own sake.”

“(Y/N)...” your mother sighed, with an understanding look.

“Forget it, I have to go,” you said, trying not to argue again, not to make known your opinion about what your family wanted, what they thought, wrongly, was the best for you.

The village had long since ceased to be comfortable for you, a peaceful place to live. With your head now mature, with your feelings constantly battered, you remembered those desires to flee that your old friend had. Now, you understood why she wanted to leave and not look back.

 “(Y/N),” a voice distracted you from your complaints, a girl you knew, and that you didn't want to see.

“Mihaela,” you said listlessly, stopping in your tracks. “I'm a bit busy right now.”

“Yes, well I... I wanted, I wanted you to know that my husband isn't home this afternoon and that... I, I'd like you to come,” she said shyly.

You laughed, thinking about it, but finally, you shook your head.

“I can't go this afternoon,” you lied, fleeing from one of the many sexual encounters you had with the young woman.

“Oh, well, but…” the young woman insisted, getting a little closer to you.

“I said no, I can't,” you said abruptly, regretting it instantly. “We, we'll see each other another day,” you finished, fleeing from the insane obsession that girl had for you.

Yes, you may have been an ordinary village girl, but your tastes were not ordinary. Nothing you could feel was tied to a man. The more you grew, the more your interest in women did, an interest that would be definitive.

You had lovers, one-night stands with girls from the village, but, for some reason, none of them made you feel loved, none of them managed to make you fall in love. Because of the situation you were in, that feeling of helplessness was almost unbearable.

“Miss (Y/N), it's a pleasure to see you in my humble shop,” the village merchant, the Duke said, when you approached that sinister carriage.

You smiled at him in a false way and threw the list at him in an unpleasant way.

“Oh... Very well,” the merchant murmured, looking at you over that sheet of paper. “I suppose you're nervous about the great day, aren't you?”

You laughed mockingly.

“Yes, look at my excited face,” you joked, pointing at yourself. “Do you have it or not?”

“Take a look back there,” he murmured, indicating the back of the carriage, where you walked slowly, running your hand over the fabrics he used to sell that were neither white nor ruffled.

“Oh... Lady Beneviento...” the Duke said, causing you to immediately raise your head and your body to stiffen.

“Duke, Duke!” a shrill voice disturbed your ears. It wasn't Donna's voice, it was… It was Angie's voice.

You, with your whole body trembling, looked out. Indeed, the lady in black was in front of the merchant, holding a rickety Angie in her arms.

It had been so long since you had been so close to her that your first move was to hide, to avoid her seeing you, recognizing you. No, anything before having to face your own betrayal, a Lord, who you knew what she was capable of and who, surely, hated you.

“Do you have fabrics?” Angie asked, with a darker voice.

“Of course I have,” the Duke said, amused. “The best ones for you, my lady.”

“We'll see about that,” the doll mocked in a scornful tone.

The lady began to look around too close to you. Her pale hands gently touched the fabrics on the counter, checking their quality. Your eyes followed them, followed those hands that seemed soft, that delicate touch.

Donna was your friend, you betrayed her. She was your friend and because of you now, now she was... A monster.

“Don't you have anything better?” the puppet asked again, following the gestures of its owner, who was looking at the merchant through that disturbing black veil.

“Try back there,” he said, disinterested, counting a pile of coins that the lady handed him, pointing with his head to the worst possible place, the place where you were.

“Shit,” you whispered, running to hide behind the carriage, with such bad luck that you tripped on one of the Duke's absurd trinkets, crashing to the ground.

A sinister laugh sounded behind you.

“Clumsy, clumsy, clumsy, clumsy village girl,” the Angie doll pointed at you, humming mockingly. You groaned in defeat, trying to get up clumsily.

A hand grabbed your arms, pulling you up. The lavender scent intoxicated your senses and in front of you, you could only see a black figure, Donna. She had helped you up and now, now she was in front of you.

“Th, thanks,” you said, looking away, turning around to flee from that horrible situation. You couldn't, a hand grabbed your arm, preventing you from continuing to walk.

“(Y/N)…” a hoarse whisper came from the black veil, forcing your body to turn slowly, forcing you to lower your gaze further. “Is it…? Is it you?”

“I don't... I think, I think you’ve mistaken me with someone else, my lady,” you said nervously, playing with your gaze not to match hers. Her hand didn't let you go, gently pulling you when you tried to run away again.

“Non mi mentire...” she whispered, with a melodic voice, one that had changed a bit, but was still recognizable, taking you back to your childhood.

“I, I don't lie, my lady,” you said without thinking, closing your eyes for having fallen into that little trap. “Oh, fu...”

“Yes, it's you,” the lady in black whispered, with a slightly happier voice, with a tone a bit higher than a simple and almost inaudible whisper. “You understood me.”

“I... I...” you stammered, unable to flee, to escape, to deny again and again something that she already knew, that it was you, her friend, the friend who betrayed her. “I...”

“(Y/N), don’t, don't you remember me?” she asked out of place, with a tremor in her hand that you already knew.

“I remember you, Donna,” you whispered, embarrassed, looking away from the lady, subtly removing her warm hand from your arms.

“It’s, it's been a long time, hasn't it?” she stammered, with the Angie doll looking at you suspiciously. “How long has it been?”

“18 years,” you whispered, trapped in that horrible conversation, one that you never wanted to have again, that you would never be able to have again.

“Yes, I…” she murmured, nervous, also looking everywhere. “You're always, always so far away in the sermons that… I, I wasn't sure if it was really you.”

“I guess it was me,” you said shyly, with your body shaking at the same time as hers. “I, I'm sorry but… I have things to do and…” you murmured, making a second attempt to flee, one frustrated again by a strong grip on your arm.

“No, no, please don't go,” the lady in black said, approaching you again with a pleading, nervous tone. “Wait, please.”

“Donna I…” you said quietly, repressing a sob, a cry you wanted to release for having met her again and being unable to say anything but vague things. “I, I'm glad to see you but… I have, I have, I have to…”

“Please, (Y/N), it's, it's been so many years,” she insisted, her voice getting weaker. “Don't go away again now that I've found you.”

Well, that was a good argument, which made you sigh, rub your eyes and nod reluctantly.

“Okay, okay,” you whispered, breathing hard, but giving up trying to separate yourself from her, who let you go and started playing with her hands.

“I, I'd like to talk to you... I have, I have a lot of things to tell you...” she sighed, her voice becoming less and less clear, saying with her words what her hidden gaze couldn't. “I know you're busy but please... I...”

“Well, well, I guess it wouldn't be a problem if...” you murmured unsurely, running a hand over your neck, searching for some sanity in your attitude, some of the courage you lacked when you left her alone.

“Ahem,” the Duke interrupted, clearing his throat in an exaggerated way, drawing  your attention.

“I don't think this is the best place for it,” you said with a subtle smile, narrowing your eyes at the merchant, who laughed mockingly.

“No, certo, I... Do you want...? Do you want to come to my house? We can, we can have tea, a real one,” Donna said, clenching her hands tighter, her knuckles white from the pressure.

“Come, come home, silly, you'll have fun…” the doll said, pulling your dress in a comical way, something that made you shudder. That doll was alive, just as the rumors said.

“I… Um… Okay, okay,” you finally said, giving up.

A tender laugh came from that horrible black veil at the same time that the lady turned around, picking up the doll from the ground and leaving the Duke's shop.

The walk was tense, terribly tense. Going through those doors, that bridge, made all the memories of your childhood assault you at the same time. That place didn't seem the same, it seemed much wilder, neglected, surely due to the lack of that gardener, who was rumored to have been murdered by Lady Beneviento.

The weeds covered the gates, the paths, there was nothing left of that cozy atmosphere, of those perfectly cared plants, there was only a landscape that became more gloomy as you advanced, making you even consider running away, fearing that her anger would be directed at you, and rightly so.

The old mansion was still there, just like the rest of the landscape, eaten away by time, by the years, like a reflection of Donna herself, a neglected and dark being, a sinister place for a sinister woman.

“Come, come in,” the woman said, kindly opening the door for you.

The smell of humidity penetrated your nose immediately, a familiar smell enhanced by all those years of neglect. The mansion wasn’t as you remembered it, the curtains prevented the light from illuminating the place, mold grew freely in the corners. Pieces of cloth, disordered books, the house of a sick woman, Donna's house.

“Sorry, (Y/N), this is a bit… Messy,” she said, noticing your pitiful look at that place, how it had changed in your memories. “I, I don’t get many visitors. No visitors, actually.”

“Am I the first?” you asked in a small voice, something that made your friend laugh again, in that shy way you knew.

“Yes, you are,” she said amused, guiding you towards a small corner, the corner where you used to play tea when you were little girls, now covered by that same sinister darkness. “Get, get comfortable, please. I’m going, I’m going to make the tea.”

“Fine,” you sighed, letting yourself fall on the sofa, raising a cloud of dust that made you cough, something that, apparently, amused that sinister doll.

“(Y/N), huh?” the puppet asked, looking at you from too close, making you even more uncomfortable. “I’ve heard a lot of things about you…”

“Have you?” you asked confused, shifting on the couch to get away from that sinister gaze. “It's funny, don't you remember me?”

“You? No,” Angie said simply. “I only see you in Donna's memories.”

“Well, you used to be part of our adventures,” you said, trying by all means to be nice, not to disturb the calm of that demonic doll. Angie simply shrugged.

“Here, here is the tea,” Donna said, appearing shortly after, leaving a tray on the table and sitting in front of you, as she did before.

Everything seemed so the same and so different at the same time that your nerves didn’t allow your hands to stop shaking, bringing your cup to your mouth with distrust.

“Is it to your liking? Is it too hot?” the lady asked, worried when she saw your cold expression. You faked a smile and shook your head.

“It's, it's okay,” you said with another fake smile, leaving the cup back on the table, enduring another moment of uncertain silence, of nervous breathing.

With your hands now free, you looked for something to touch, something to start a conversation that you hoped would end soon.

A porcelain doll, leaning on the side of the sofa, caught your attention and you slowly picked it up, observing every detail.

“I see that you finally followed in your father's footsteps,” you commented quietly, putting that doll back in its place. “I thought you would leave.”

“I couldn't,” she whispered abruptly, clenching her fists again. “When I was old enough I... I wanted to, I wanted to leave but... Mother Miranda took pity on me and adopted me, naming me Lord. Besides, I... I couldn't leave without...  Well, it doesn't matter.”

“I see,” you sighed, increasingly uncomfortable. “Well, Lord sounds much better than doll maker,” you said amused.

“At least now I'm part of something,” Donna said, with a serious tone, as if she was looking away, something that made you notice her black veil again.

“Why are you covering your face?” you asked suddenly, wanting to satisfy the curiosity that contradicted your desire to leave that place. “There's nothing wrong with not having an…”

Donna sighed, lowering her head and bringing her trembling hands to the black cloth, removing it with an elegant movement.

You were a bit shocked by what you saw. Donna Beneviento had become a really beautiful woman, but that scar, that part of her face she was ashamed of had suffered a horrible transformation, turning into a bulging abscess that covered part of her right side.

“The Black Gods don't give gifts in exchange for nothing, (Y/N),” she murmured, embarrassed by her new appearance, nervously wringing the black cloth in her hands.

“Well, it’s, it's not that bad,” you said, calming an impending nervous breakdown by doing the same thing you did when you were little, pushing away her fears with an amused smile. “Look, you can hardly tell.”

The lady pushed your hands away when they approached her hair, trying to hide her scar under it. You stepped back, biting your lip. It didn't really matter what her appearance was, she was still a terribly beautiful woman.

She smiled more calmly, fixing the hair you moved, shaking her head.

“You haven't changed at all, (Y/N),” she murmured, without looking at your face, leaving the black veil on the table, sighing sadly but with the emotion of nostalgia in her gaze.

“Well, I don't climb trees now,” you joked, drinking some more tea, relaxed by being able to look at her face, by being able to see your friend again, at least a shadow of what she was.

“Now you climb women,” she whispered with a different voice. You gulped at that comment, your cheeks flushed.

“I see a Lord knows everything,” you said with a broken, nervous voice.

“Only what I want to know,” she corrected abruptly, blinking erratically.

After that somewhat sinister statement, silence came again to that disturbing place. You, nervous, tried not to make any comment but, as always, your curiosity spoke for you. You wish it hadn't.

“They say you killed Josef,” you commented, looking away from her pale skin, from her beauty that was screaming to be admired.

“I did,” she answered without any problem, with a cold look that pierced your soul.

“Why, Donna?” you asked disappointed by that statement, by the legend that stopped being one with a few cold words. “He was good to you.”

“It's none of your business, (Y/N),” she hissed, almost breaking her cup with the grip of her hands. Shortly after, she closed her eye, as if trying to control her nerves. “I had to do it, that's all.”

“Of course,” you said with a slightly ironic tone, with one that was dying to leave your lips. “Everything that happens to you stopped being my business 18 years ago, Donna.”

“You were the one who abandoned me,” she reproached you, giving light to a resentment that you were sure she felt. It was the moment of truth. “You were the one who stopped being interested in me.”

“Well, then why didn't you kill me too?” you said, getting up from the couch, waving your arms, letting your own guilt consume your insides, speaking in that way to the one who was once your best friend.

“Why would I do that?” the lady asked, standing up as well, in a furious tone, kicking the small table, causing the cups to shake dangerously.

“You said it, I abandoned you. I left you alone when you needed me, I... I failed you, Donna,” you said furiously too, letting the tears run down your cheeks, losing your nerves just like her. “Don't pretend you don't hold a grudge against me, I see it in your gaze.”

“I can't blame you for not wanting to be with a monster like me,” she whispered, also with her eye full of tears.

“Do you think it's about that? Do you think I would abandon you because of what people said about you?” you asked back, leaving the small corner and looking for calm in your thoughts. You didn't find it.

“I don't know what it could be about then,” she commented calmer, but with the same marked accent, one that revealed her internal rage.

“Oh, it, it wasn't my fault,” you said, shaking your head, running a hand through your hair. “My, my parents, they, they forbade me to see you, they told me that I was in danger by your side.”

“They weren't wrong,” Donna said, whispering dangerously, with a haughty posture.

“Of course they were wrong! You, you were my best friend, Donna…” you sighed, biting your tongue to avoid saying anything else against yourself, to avoid saying that you could have looked for her, but you didn't.

“You were my only friend, (Y/N),” the doll maker said, without removing that dark look from her face.

“Oh, Donna,” you sighed sobbing and doing something that you had wanted to do for years, throwing yourself into her arms, hugging her, feeling her with you again.

The lady was surprised, but she didn't take long to return that hug, holding you tightly against her body, letting your tears wet your dresses without saying anything, just crying, letting out those feelings that neither of you knew how to express.

“Donna…” you sighed again, soaking in her essence, letting her hands embrace you as she trembled, hugged you tightly, sobbed the same way you did. “I've missed you so much…”

“Me, me too,” she answered. “I, I haven't stopped thinking about you all this time… I…”

“Good, good!” the doll squealed, clapping comically. “Hug, hug!”

The two of you looked at each other and laughed, separating, letting your hands join slowly, swinging between your bodies. You caressed hers with your thumb, losing yourself in the softness of her skin, in her warmth, the one you hadn't forgotten.

“Forgive me, Donna, please. I shouldn't have left you alone, I should have been with you,”  you said pleadingly, with a sincere voice, with sincere feelings.

“That doesn't matter anymore, (Y/N),” she whispered, letting your hands go and running one of them over your cheek, making you cry even more, with a splendid smile. “What, what matters is that you're back, you're back by my side.”

You, perhaps too excited by that encounter, by the return of your childhood memories, did something crazy, approaching Donna and kissing her quickly on the lips, the fruit of joy, of being with the only person who understood you again.

She didn't react. She just smiled more widely, blinking confusedly.

“I'm sorry, I got too excited,” you said nervously, biting your lip and trying to control your breathing.

Donna laughed again, with a wider smile, caressing your cheek again.

“You were always so fiery…” she whispered amused, slowly moving her hand away, moving away from you.

“I guess I haven't changed that much,” you said, nervous by that unexpected kiss, by that softness that you didn't imagine, by that act that came from the depths of your heart. “But I think those days of fieryness are over for me.”

You, sighing, letting your duties come back to haunt you, walked through the mansion, shaking your head.

“Why do you say that?” the lady asked, chasing you nervously, turning you slowly, with an intriguing look.

“Well, I...” you murmured, showing your left hand, where a tacky ring decorated your finger. “I'm engaged.”

“Fi, fi, fidanzata...” she murmured confusedly, stammering, as if a jar of ice water had suddenly fallen on her.

“Yes, I'm afraid so,” you sighed, nodding with a sad look, letting yourself fall on the sofa again.

Donna frowned, unable to control the new trembling of her body, approaching you as if she were stalking you.

“Are you getting married?” she asked abruptly, squeezing her hands on either side of her hips, looking at you with an irrational hatred that you were unable to perceive.

“Yes, with Ivan, the boy from the weaver family. He's a jerk, but deep down he's a good boy,” you explained sighing, looking at that cheap jewel on your finger, wishing it would disappear from there by magic.

“With a boy?” Donna asked with that same distrustful tone, with a slow step and a dark air in her gaze.

“Oh, well yes, it's a marriage of convenience,” you said passively, standing up again when you saw the brunette's nervous attitude. “What's wrong with you?”

“What's wrong with me?” she asked with a look of hatred. “You're getting married?”

“It's not my thing, Donna, it was my parents' idea,” you said with a serious tone, crossing your arms. She laughed nervously, with irony adorning that sardonic smile.

“It's always your parents, isn't it? They are to blame for everything,” she hissed, shaking her head, as if that happiness had suddenly vanished, as if it had never existed.

“Yes, that is a pretty accurate statement,” you said arrogantly, frowning. “What do you care?”

“That, that's not fair,” Donna murmured, shaking her head, controlling the trembling of her hand with the other, preventing madness from taking over her again. “You, you can't.”

“Of course it's unfair, that's life,” you whispered, letting all the air out of your lungs.

“No, no, no, you can't, you can't do this to me…” she said, talking to herself, her hands pulling at her hair. “You can't!”

“What's wrong with you?” you asked, annoyed by her attitude, by not understanding the reason for her anger. “Now you worry about me? You could have done it 10 years ago, don't you think?” you said unintentionally, blaming Donna for your misfortune, blaming her for not going to save you, for not taking you with her to Italy, as she promised, as you promised before everything got out of control.

“Cazzo, (Y/N)!” she shouted furiously, kicking the dining table hard, knocking over several chairs in an outburst of fury that you watched in astonishment. “You can't marry someone you don't love!”

“But…” you hissed, now with rage controlling your words, your cocky pose, your irrational hatred for the lady in black, your hatred for not having been rescued when you could have been, when you broke your promise, and she broke hers. “What do you know, Donna? What do you know about love?”

“I know more than you think!” she shrieked, approaching you in a threatening manner, grabbing you firmly by the collar of your dress, with a furious eye, bloodshot, with hatred. “I know what it's like to spend years dreaming of seeing you knock on my door. I know what it's like to see you in sermons, to see how you run away from me, how you don't even dare to look at my face, I know what it's like to cry because I know that you will never feel for me the same as I have felt for you for so long… I know what it's like to love you, (Y/N).”

You were left speechless at that unexpected declaration. Tears spoke for you again, running down your cheeks. Your breathing stopped, your heart stopped beating, writhing in pain, stirring for you to hear it, for you to hear those same feelings you had repressed for so long.

But that revelation didn't really matter, that sea of ​​feelings you had kept inside for so long, hers, the love she said she felt for you. You already suffered for her once, you thought about her every day, you sat in the back row, but your eyes always went to her. A lost friendship that became a subtle obsession, an abyss full of guilt and things you didn't think you could feel for another person.

Once again, it was too late, no matter who was to blame.

“I'm so glad to see you again, Donna,” you whispered, turning around, trying not to look at the lady in black, who was crying inconsolably, controlling her anger, shaking her head as if she wanted to wake up from a nightmare. “I guess we'll see each other around here.”

She didn't answer, she simply sobbed, closing her eye and nodding, not wanting to see you leave her again.

You walked slowly towards the exit, with your mind torturing each of your steps, with your heart hurt by the reality of your feelings, your attitude. You were never able to love, to feel love for anyone, you didn't know why. But, after that argument, you began to see your problem clearly.

Donna was always in your dreams, when you grew up, she began to be like a ghost that you wanted to chase. When you were a child, you wanted to play with her, to be her best friend. When you grew up, that wasn't enough for you.

The guilt of having abandoned her joined with a feeling of anxiety and obsession that began to consume you little by little. You didn't care that she was a Lord, that a black veil covered her face. She was still Donna, your best friend, a friend who stopped being one, and with whom you fell in love little by little, for the simple fact of not being able to have her by your side.

The door creaked open and the cold cut your face. Furious and tired, you turned around to look at her once more, to be able to remember her as she was, and not as the village said. It was a bad decision, but a good one at the same time.

“Gods, what... What am I doing?” you asked yourself, slamming the door and running back through the entrance.

With a firm step, you reached the lady in black, throwing yourself at her lips, letting yourself be invaded by your feelings, by her kisses, by that improvised act that your body and your heart were dying to see you doing.

“(Y/N)…” Donna interrupted, not letting your kisses continue, the salty taste of your tears continue to mix on your lips. “Please, don’t, don't get married…”

“Ask me again, come on,” you said, gently hitting her chest, demanding to hear that request again, demanding that her feelings allow you to commit a madness.

“Don't get married,” Donna repeated, resting her forehead against yours, cupping your face in her hands.

You grabbed her wrists, letting more tears flow, losing yourself in the lavender.

“Again,” you whispered, holding her tightly. “Again.”

“Don't get married, stay with me…” she said, sobbing, as if the revelation had also clouded her senses. Her words were barely whispers, but they sounded like uncontrolled screams in your heart.

“I don't want to get married,” you sobbed, kissing her again, with your wild, wandering lips, with your hands running over her waist, pulling her, barely letting her breathe.

“Then don't do it,” she said with a slightly more serious voice, with her cold gaze penetrating yours.

You didn't answer, the kisses simply returned, they became hungry and messy. You could feel her hands traveling through your hair, your waist, your legs. It was an uncontrolled dance, without brakes, that went faster and faster.

The gasps replaced the sobs, the tears. Your bodies moved on their own, driven only by a blinding passion, by intense, immortal, eternal feelings. Kisses, caresses, love…

A trio of words that vaguely defined what was happening, how your steps began to crash against the walls, how her neck became your target, your playground, your safe place.

Donna accepted those kisses with a satisfied moan, with an anxious sigh as she searched for some corner, a crack in your dress so she could have the honor of touching your skin, of taking you to those same sensations you provoked.

There were no words, there was nothing, only gasps, only passion, only the sound of her back hitting the wall, her nervous movements when your leg was placed between hers and your skillful fingers began an unfair battle against the buttons of her dress.

Her slender fingers scratched your covered back, her hips danced discreetly against your leg, the gasps became more intense, the kisses wilder. Growling like an animal, you grabbed one of her legs, running your nails along the soft skin of her thighs, cursing that horrible black fabric for hiding such a brilliant beauty.

Donna pulled away, taking your hand and desperately guiding you towards the sofa, leaving her chest uncovered by your mischievous hands, lying down, dragging you on top of her while your own dress gave way to her discreet hands.

“(Y/N)…” the lady in black moaned, letting you push aside the fabric that separated you from her skin, that deprived your lips of the addictive taste of her body.

Neck, collarbone, breasts, everything was delicious for your lips, for your desire. She panted nervously, looking for something to entertain herself with, some part of your body that was just as attractive to her. Kisses, she only wanted some crazy kisses, kisses from you, from that girl who abandoned her, who threatened to do it again.

There was more and more clothing on the floor, and less on your body. Her hands were less careful, focusing on forbidden places, on parts of your legs that seemed unreachable.

For you, there was nothing else, there had been nothing else in over 16 years, Donna, just Donna.

Her skin, her sighs, her gasps, those little moans she let out were like fuel for your body, like gasoline so you could move how you wanted, where you wanted.

Soon there were no clothes, just sweat, just your lips moving down her body, worshiping the beautiful woman she had become, worshiping Donna, always Donna.

Her hand in your hair signaled for you to continue, you weren't going to stop, there would be nothing that could stop you, not even your stupid parents.

Her wetness betrayed her own desire. The taste of her arousal was sweet, intense, just as addictive as her kisses. Her body moved confused by your actions, confused by a naughty finger that slowly played with her clit, making her close her eye in shame.

More fuel for your lust. Dazzled by her caresses, by her soft hands in your hair, by those sounds she made, you immersed yourself in her wetness, caressing her with your tongue, making her shudder at your touch, at your not-so-innocent kisses. Your fingers took over from your mouth, entering inside of her, taking refuge in her excited heat.

You had never felt such intense pleasure just by touching a woman, there was nothing in that dirty village that resembled the perfection of her body, her moans, the perfection of Donna Beneviento.

Her back arched and her moans turned into high-pitched screams. Your hands comforted her, helped her to release keeping her close, as if your body was begging you to never leave again.

But that wasn't the end, just the beginning.

If you had to speak without knowing, you would say that Donna would be clumsy, even too rough in her actions, in making you hers, hers forever. Quite the opposite, she wasn't like that. You didn't know if you were the first, you didn't know if there had been other women before, you didn't want to know, just thinking about it made you want to scream with rage.

None of that mattered, only that sweetness mattered, those kisses, those tender words in Italian that watered your ears, that moved your body while she adored yours. You would never have imagined that delicacy, those fingers trying not to hurt you, not to run, trying to feel your whole body without fear of you leaving.

Her slow kisses were almost ardent, the movement of her hips was hypnotic, her fingers danced softly inside of you, her eye looked into yours with desire, with love, true love that you never believed possible.

Sex, moans, hips coming together, a thousand and one ways to give each other pleasure. For a moment, your life was reduced only to that and, in your madness, in your unbridled passion, you wished it would never end.

Her hands went wild, her arms wrapped around you tightly as your wetness rubbed together.

You could see, for a moment, that darkness in her gaze again, that desire to hold you in the strength of her embrace, of the scratches on your back, marking you, claiming you as hers forever, bringing out that possessiveness, that attitude of not wanting to lose what was already hers.

After an uncertain time, it ended, and the gasps and moans were replaced by nervous breathing, by Donna's strong and unbreakable embrace of your naked body, so you would stay on her chest, so the lavender would also be part of you.

Like a cruel return to the past, the clock rang with a shrill tone, alerting you to the worst moment of your life, when you were nothing but a child: the horrible moment of returning home.

“Donna…”you sighed sadly, releasing yourself from her embrace, struggling with her, who protested with a moan. “I have, I have to go.”

“You're leaving me again,” she sighed, wetting her cheeks again, struggling unsuccessfully to regain your warmth in hers.

“I wouldn't do it if I could,” you murmured, looking for your clothes and dressing slowly. She nodded, covering herself timidly, with a lost look.

“You can, but you don't want to,” Donna sighed, stabbing your heart.

“Are you going to explain to my parents that I'm not going to get married?” you said frustrated, putting on your dress. “That I'm leaving my life, my duties to stay with you, with a Lord?”

She shook her head, wiping a tear from her cheek.

“Marry me then,” she whispered, making you turn your head quickly, surprised by those words.

“What? Have you gone crazy?” you said confused, rubbing your eyes. “Donna…”

“If your parents care that much about you getting married… Do it with me,” she explained, with a desperate tone.

You sighed, running a hand over the back of your neck. You might think it was a joke but you knew Donna, you knew she was completely serious.

“It's not… That easy,” you whispered, letting yourself fall on the couch, exhausted, tired and hopelessly in love.

“Let them dare to oppose, (Y/N), we are not two little girls anymore, no one could do anything to stop us…. From loving each other. Please, (Y/N), sposami…”

“Donna, I… I, I don't know what to say… It’s, it's been so long and… And now…” you stammered, your heartbeat getting stronger, your heart already having the answer.

“It may have been a while, (Y/N), but, but I love you, I have never, never stopped and I will never stop loving you… I, I couldn't bear to lose you again without doing something about it,” she said, taking your hand, looking with disgust at that annoying ring.

“Will you take me to Italy?” you asked in a murmur, with an involuntary smile appearing on your face.

“I can't, I can't get out of…” she said, confused, silenced by a finger on her lips.

“I know, but… Would you do it if you were able to?” you asked again, slowly taking the ring off your finger, throwing it away, through the mansion.

She nodded with tears in her eye, with a sincere, beautiful smile.

“I would take you wherever you wanted, as… As long as you were with me,” she whispered, approaching your lips again, kissing them slowly, passionately, with love. “I would do anything for you.”

“Would you buy me a ring?” you asked amused, forgetting your fears, with the most important decision of your life already made. “One better than that trinket…”

“So…? So you, you want…?” Donna stammered nervously, squeezing your hands tightly.

“Yes, Donna, I can't think of a better company for the rest of my life…”

[mikasa-imadebiscults]

RL Fluff Relationship Hcs

(A/N- We need more fluff in this fandom, like DAMN THE ANGST BE SAD ;-;)

(Characters Included- Bela, Cassandra, Daniela, and Donna)

(Warning: Mild swearing and of course fluff)

🫀Bela Dimitrescu🫀

- She is your shield. She tries her hardest to keep you safe from any danger the best she can.

- When you’re out somewhere together and she sees that you’re cold she will take off her jacket and have you put it on saying that she insists. Then will wrap one arm around your waist to provide extra warmth.

- This girl can cook. She secretly loves it when you go up behind her and wrap your arms around her waist while she’s cooking.

- Keeps every single gift you give her and cherishes each memory it holds.

- In the middle of the night, when both of you can’t sleep, she likes to talk to you and reminiscence on shared memories together. Sometimes she tells you stories about the funny things Cass and Dani did when they were kids.

☕️Cassandra Dimitrescu☕️

- This flirt makes it her goal to make sure that you get flustered at least three times a day.

- It’s RARE to get her flustered but if you succeed in getting her all flustered, it is truly a wonderful sight to see.

- She loves to tell you about the latest performance she did and how she feels about them (majority of the time she’s very happy with the outcome of the performance)

- Okay but imagine stargazing with Cassandra. Or walking through the forest with her while she tells you dramatic stories about her life.

- If you go watch her perform without telling her, she would be so surprised and give you a wink before getting her shit together and proceeds on with the play.

🛹Daniela Dimitrescu🛹

- Friends to lovers trope. (Well more like BEST friends to lovers)

- When the both of you go to a party she’ll always have her eyes on you in admiration and adoration. She just loves seeing you so happy.

- Tells all of her skater bros and family about you. They know almost everything about you because of her rambling sessions about you.

- She is always able to make you laugh, especially when you two are hanging out with Angie (the chaos between those two is hilarious)

- Loves to show off some of her skating tricks. If you praise her for them she would give you the biggest smile. Her smile is so damn contagious.

💐Donna Beneviento💐

- This woman loves you so very much.

- At the beginning of your relationship she feared that you’ll leave her one day (give this poor girl a hug) BUT after lots of reassurance from you, she starts to believe that you won’t leave.

- She loves giving you hugs. Whenever she hugs you she’s always a bit tense but she still gives the BEST hugs (prove me wrong)

- The first time y’all had an heart-to-heart conversation about how much you love each other, she got so happy that she cried tears of happiness.

- If you have any scars, stretch marks, freckles, or whatever she likes to trace and kiss them softly. It’s her way of showing you that she loves every single part of you.

Masterlist

[nerdnonymous00]

🛑🚨‼️ATTENTION PLEASE, JUST A QUICK READ‼️🚨🛑

hi im angie (she/they)! im a lesbian from the philippines. i’ve been a part of so many fandoms but im usually a silent like-r, reblogger, and supporter. i also make art at my sideblog, @angiedoesthingss. but now, im truly desperate and is currently asking for your help.

yesterday, after years of abuse from our narcissistic, homophobic grandma, i finally fought back and did my best to protect my mother and sister. it was a disaster and my grandma threatened us to leave her house (long story short, we live under her roof). i’ve always planned to move, but now, i need to bring my family to safety as soon as possible too.

we need to move for our safety and happiness by the first quarter of 2025. we’re planning to move back to our childhood home that we’ve currently put up for rent (the current renter is leaving soon - no worries). im planning to bring along my mom, my sister, our two cats and dog with me.

the thing is, im worried we wont be able to move because our funds have been so low. recently, i lost my main job because my boss was a creep. i only have a part time job now that only pays me $170 a month which is barely enough for me, much less my family. my sister just graduated college so she doesn’t have a job yet and my mom can’t get a job because it stresses and tires her out (she also deals with mental health problems - a result of this unstable environment).

my goal is to at least reach $500 to ensure that we’ll have enough money for the move and to sustain us for the next couple of months while we adjust to this new environment and heal. i would be so grateful and would appreciate any amount you can give for me and my family. 

it’s truly crazy how things can just change from one day to the next. a day before that altercation, i was cooking cordon bleu with my girlfriend at their house, watching arcane s2 act 1 - literally in lesbian bliss. and now im on a mission to save me and my family, to give all of us the freedom and life we deserve.

thank you for reading so far! and thank you so much for donating! im thankful too for any likes or reblogs you can give me to spread my little post. im hoping it will reach so many of you. i really hope we get to accomplish this goal.

i’ll be sure to keep updating this post as we reach certain milestones, maybe even reblogging with pictures of our pets! if youre from the philippines as well and would like to help, you can pm me and i’ll send you my GCASH information! again, thank you so much, i cant thank you, reader, enough!

(please click the photo for the link 🥹 if that doesnt work click here! thank you so much)

[russellsppttemplates]

Papa bear mode (Mick Schumacher)

Mick is in full papa bear mode and his baby girl hasn't arrived yet

Note: english is not my first language. this is another long piece that I hope you enjoy (I love how we all just love dad!Mick and I'm here for it)!

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!

my masterlist

Tw: pregnancy and postpartum

"Can we go tomorrow, then? I already said that I'd be taking the day off", you said to Mick, passing him the last piece of cutlery so he could put it on the drawer after you dried it, "the meeting was the only thing that I had scheduled and since that is cancelled, I have a free day for that, yes", he smiled, settling his hand around your lower back as he guided you to the living room, sitting on the sofa so you could sit next to him, his iPad on his hand so you could both look at it.

"I think I finally found the buggy for us", he announced, tapping the wide screen and opening the shared document you had created so you could have a set list of what you needed for your baby girl's arrival. Mick wanted to be involved in everything as much as he could, and when you suggested that you'd split the list of items so both of you would have less things to look up and search for, it went down as a good idea.

"This one has an adaptable pushing bit, you can regulate according to the height of the person pushing it so it's comfortable, comes with this thing where you put the nappy bag, and I've checked on your list here", he motioned, splitting the screen so both lists would be showing, "and it fits the bag we have already", he smiled, happy with his finding. You tapped the screen to see all the different pictures and features of the equipment, nodding when it seemed good, "yes, I think this is a good choice. It's good that it's adjustable, means you won't hurt your back because it's to small for you or that I will be uncomfortable because it's too tall for me", you smiled, looking up at him and stealing a kiss, "yes, and it looks sturdy enough to venture out for our walks, too", you mentioned, watching a video where the brand tested how the buggy behaved in different types of ground. You were hoping that once things settled down and you felt comfortable enough, you'd join Mick and Angie for walks as a family of four.

"I also found this crib", you mentioned, tapping the link you had pasted on the document earlier on in the day, "it looks pretty and practical, too", you noted, "she won't sleep on it for a while, I guess, because I've heard everyone say how they just sleep in the cot you put next to the bed for first few weeks", you shrugged your arms, "but at least it will be done and out of the way, and the nursery will be ready", you explained your point of you, earning a nod of agreement from your husband, "seems good to me too. We make a fine team, don't we?", he asked, cuddling you into his chest while you looked at the rest of the items you wanted to get.

The next morning, you both woke up and got ready to move your bodies. While you weren't an athete like your husband, you tried your best to engage in some form of exercise to keep active, usually some stretches and lighter movements now that you were pregnant. And because of that, you had built a nice routine to exercise while Mick did his workout in the morning.

You were tidying up, throwing your towell on the basket so you could later take it to the laundry room and then rolling up your yoga matt, walking to the place where you stored it when you nearly tripped in one of weight machines, "Y/N!", Mick said, approaching you to check how you were, "everything good?", he looked you up and down, Angie following suit as she looked up at you, "I'm fine, just didn't see the corner of it", you smiled, craddling his cheek, "no need to go all papa bear mode, at least not now", you reasoned, "yes, you're right. But maybe we should get those lock things, so baby girl doesn't walk in here and hurts herself, there are some heavy things here", he looked around, "and upstairs too, for that matter", he continued his ramble of everything he thought would be heavy and dangerous in the house, "I'll get to it once we get home from the shop", he finished.

Chuckling, you grabbed Mick's hand and laced it in yours, "there's still a lot of time until those are a concern, my love", you tried to pull him back to reality, "I know, but better be safe than sorry. And don't be so certain than I'm thinking she'll be the one to accidentally hit things, by the looks of it, you'll be too", he teased you, kissing your forehead as you made your way upstairs for a shower before leaving for the baby shopping afternoon.

Arriving at the store, you greeted the older sales assistant, showing her your list of items you wanted to get and following her as she also offered her opinions and views, "yes, I always recommend these cots where little one is right next to you in bed, they're like an extension of your own bed and they can be near the parent for feeds and changes during the night, and especially when the mother is the one getting to them in the night and she's still recovering, it's a lot easier to just roll and have the baby right there", she supported your decision, marking down on her notepad the exact model that would fit your bed, "and can we move it around? Say I want it on my side of the bed instead of hers", Mick asked, "yes, it's fairly easy to move around. This model has wheels that lock into place once you're happy with where it is", she showed the detail on the model they had on display.

After discussing all the furniture, you moved into the aisle concerning the mothers rather than the babies' sections, "again, we can never know for sure how the birth is going to go, but from my own experience and from what the clients tell me, it's better to be prepared for everything rather than run around in the newborn stage trying to buy something", she smiled softly, "we have this kit here, and it comes with nipple cream, which I would recommend you start applying a few days before the birth, a lot of new mothers swear by this trick", she winked, making you look at the product while Mick listened intently.

"Also these witch hazel pads also work wonders, if you lay them on your maternity pads or underwear, they really help cool down the area and make things a little bit less uncomfortable", she continued explaining what all the products did and how to use them to get the most benefits.

By the time you were home, sorting everything took even longer since Mick would not let you carry the bigger boxes, only allowing you to carry some baby clothes, hygiene products and a lamp to the nursery and your shared bedroom, and you couldn't help but notice his tense stance. His shoulders were stiff, he only spoke when you talked to him and the crease on his forehead was prominent. "Hey", you nudged him with your foot under the dinner table, "are you okay? Do you need something?", he asked worriedly, earning a no from you, "I should be the one asking you that. You are awfully quiet since we got home from the store. What happened? Was it something I said or did?", you wondered, receiving a chuckle on his end.

Frowning, you waited for his answer, "sorry, liebling, I don't want to offend you. And no, it's not your fault. I mean, it kind of is because yiu are the one carrying our baby, my baby", he brushed, "you and your body are doing this wonderful thing, like, you're growing organs and bones for our baby girl, you are her home", he smiled, tears filling his eyes before be frowned a bit, "but you're also the one enduring the pains, the discomfort that it is sometimes. You'll have to deal with so many things even after our baby girl is out here with us", he stretched his arm so he could hold your hand in his, his thumb rubbing your knuckles, "it's not fair, and I don't know how to make up to you", he explained.

"What made you feel like this? Was it just today?", you questioned, wanting to know where this whole thing came from, "It's just, today, at the store", he gulped, "the lady kept saying that the things we were getting were because things would be bad, like nipple cream because you'd have cracked skin there, or the witchhazel pads because you would be sore, and the band because sometimes everything would feel off on your body", he said, "and I'll be here for you as much as I can, I'll do anything and I'd do anything to take any of that discomfort away from you, but, it's bothering me, I think that's what it is", he confessed, opening up to you.

Smiling at his thoughtfulness, you tutted so he would look at you, "Mick, my love, it's all part of this. And while maybe, yes, if this was some sort of video game where I could transfer the pain of childbirth to you", you giggled, helping him relax a little bit more, "I'm sure I'll be just fine because I have you by my side, through all of it.

"So, please, stop feeling like you're not doing enough because you are. You're taking care of us, making sure I'm doing everything okay. And I have no doubt that the minute this one is her with us", you brought your laced hands to touch your bump, feeling your daughter kick, "you'll be even more wonderful. Parenthood is not measured by who does more of what, but rather how we handle it all together for the best of our family", you smiled, kissing your husband's lips as you finalised your attempt to make him feel better.

.

"Do we have to do this now?", you asked your husband, walking inside the home office to see his opening storage boxes, "you're not doing anything, but I need to get these away from here", he pointed to his trophies. His successful career was the first things that came to mind whenever you saw the wall, and now he wanted to store them away, "one day, Rora might think it is a good idea to touch these and what if they fall on her? They're really heavy and they can hurt her", he reasoned as he saw you sat down on the spinning chair, and if your stomach hadn't fluttered as he mentioned your daughter's nickname, your response would be quicker, "those are really high up, Mick, I don't think I can even reach them, let alone a baby or a toddler that, may I remind you, is still some time away from doing that", you noted, only hearing him mumbling something, "and I plan on dedicating every win to you and our little one, so these will soon be filled with new trophies", he smiled charmingly.

"You, little lady", you talked to your bump, "have a very worried and forward thinking papa, and while he can sometimes be a pain in our behind, he only does it because he loves us so much", you tapped the skin, "but we love him even more, so we are all lucky to have eachother, I guess".

.

"So, I hold her like this?", your husband asked the instructor, earning a pleased nod from her, "very well, Mick, exactly like that!".

You and Mick were at a baby class, and today you were covering the birth and what positions would be helpful whenever the pain of contractions was too great to handle and how you could deal with them, "Am I hurting you, liebling?", he asked, "no, on the contrary. This is actually really nice, I think I should walk around everyday with you like this until she's born", you chuckled, feeling how rhe pressure on your hips subsided, "you know I wouldn't mind being with you all day, you know? It would help me to keep an eye on you at all times an-", you interrupted him, "Papa bear mode is activated", you chuckled, kissing his jaw, "you're lucky I think you're insanely hot when you do that".

[luveline]

omg! i love asf fred <3

what about Ghost getting flirted with by like a random guy, but it’s all respectful and sweet (not like that douche ex she had) and she’s super confused and Fred is jealous but he’s more of like happy that someone’s appreciating her so that she can see??? i have no clue if that makes sense but ily :)

thank you for your request I love you! fem!reader, 1.2k

cw mental health issues

Fred has no shame about watching you closely when you go places, and especially at Angie’s parties. You’re starting to come out of your shell, little by little, and tonight you’ve been swept away by Kate and Lee Jordan to attempt a game of beer pong. You don’t look very confident, but you do look beautiful. 

“She’s having fun!” George says. “Shall I go steal her back before she realises you’re actually quite boring?” 

“Fuck off. And if I ever lose her, you do too.” 

“As if. Me and Ghost are best friends forever, Frederick. Not that you could understand our bond.” 

They lean against the countertop in the kitchen less than twenty feet from your game. You’re in one of those dresses you’d been too afraid to wear a year ago, the blue one that falls in soft petals at your knees and fans out when you move. He has the urge to collect you and kiss the length of your arm, fingers to shoulder, to your baby length sleeve. 

“Watch out,” George says, “It’s Parsons.” 

Kelly Parsons is a nice enough guy. Fred and George used to call him The Smiler, because he would smile at anyone who so much as glanced at him like they’d made his day. He’s smiling now saying hello to Kate, who then, thankfully, introduces him to you. 

“It’s nice to meet you,” you say. You sound both tired and completely genuine. If Fred wasn’t in love with you already, your smile would have him falling. 

“I had to come and say hi to the prettiest girls in the room.” 

Fred blinks, his lips parting as George begins to laugh. 

“Don’t start,” Kate says. 

“I’m serious, you both look beautiful. Is there room for another player? I’m a professional at beer pong.” 

“We need another one!” Lee Jordan says. “You can be team Y/N.”  

You look just over his shoulder at Fred. Fred has enough sense to look somewhere else before your eyes can meet. The last thing he wants to be is the overprotective loser boyfriend. 

“How much can he flirt with her before it’s offensive?” he asks George eventually. 

“She doesn’t even look like she gets it,” George says. 

You’ve started to look like you’re begging to be saved, a strange smile on your face. Lee Jordan is sending Fred signals to move in and stake your relationship before Kelly gets any more bold, but Fred doesn’t want to. (Of course he wants to, he’d be quite happy to kick the legs out from under Parsons and sweep you into a princess carry). It’s nice seeing someone flirt with you, weirdly, because he knows that you think you aren’t that sort of girl. 

But it’s awful and he needs to put a stop to it. 

“You’ve got quite the arm on you,” Kelly says. “You have good coordination.” 

“Fred says that sometimes, but I think he says it just to be nice,” you say. 

Fred pumps his fist by his thigh. When he joins you at the table he’s calm and collected. “My ears are itching,” he says, “were you talking about me?” 

You nod softly, slipping into sidestep beside him. “Kelly, this is Fred. You’ve met, right? I bet so.” 

Fred has no qualms shaking Kelly’s hand. If his grip is a tad tighter than usual, it’s his business. 

“We’ve met,” Fred says with a smile. 

“Oh, good. Fred’s my boyfriend.” 

He thinks it’s a little sad that you sound unsure about it. He knows you know that things between you both are rock solid, or at least that he loves you more than anything, but you sound embarrassed to admit to it. You used to be embarrassed to talk —taking up space doesn’t come easy for you. Fred would never be offended at your tone. 

“Good to see you,” Kelly says. 

To his credit, he doesn’t miss a beat. Like Fred thought, he’s nice enough. 

Fred rubs your arm. He and Kelly share a look, both more casual than the situation calls for, like they’re trying too hard to pretend Kelly wasn’t just flirting with you. Or, Fred thinks so. 

“Are you winning?” Fred asks. 

You hold his gaze. “What do you think?” 

“You’ve won already,” he says. 

“I’ve had four shots,” you confess quietly. “I’m rubbish at this.” 

“What?” he asks. Four shots? He looks over at the table and the beer pong cups, finds they’re shot glasses and he’d guessed the wrong drink or the wrong game or both. Each shot glass is filled to the brim with spirit, and you and Kelly had clearly been about to lose. 

“That’s how the game works, right?” you ask. 

“They haven’t hit you yet, then,” he says. “Maybe you should sit down before they do.” 

“I’m trying to party.” 

“You’re doing a good job,” he says. He gives a sorry smile to your small band of gathered maybe-friends. “I’ll bring her back, I promise.” 

“Good! You better,” Kate says.  

Fred sits you down at the island and makes you a big glass of water to hopefully lessen the force of your quick drinking. “I know you don’t drink much, Ghost, but you must know four shots at once is a lot. And when Lee pours them they’re like doubles, sweetheart, you’re,” —you pull on his arm— “crazy. What?”  

“Kiss?” 

“You know he was flirting with you?” he asks, ducking down to kiss you as you’ve asked. He speaks against your lips. “Parsons? He was laying it on thick.” 

“Sort of. I didn’t notice at first. Sorry.” 

“No, no,” he says, stroking your cheek with his knuckles. “I’d flirt with you too. Not your fault.” 

“You do flirt with me.”

He kisses you again. You taste a bit sharp, but he couldn’t care less. “I do, don’t I?” 

Fred wraps his arms around you for an impromptu hug. His jealousy aside, there isn’t much else he could want from the world than for you to be as you are, happy, getting better, and expressing yourself in your lovely dresses. He presses his cheek to your cheek and tries not to remember how despondent you used to be. It’s on his mind a lot, he’s a worrier, but you hug him back with gusto tonight. “Freddie,” you say, rubbing his back with the tips of your fingers, “are you okay?” 

He presses a kiss to your shoulder. “Mm, I’m great. Got my girl, haven’t I?” 

“Be serious,” you say. 

Fred hugs you tighter. “I am.” 

“Okay. I love you.” 

“You don’t have to sound so shy,” he says. “I love you too, lovely. More than anything.” 

“That’s very much too much for a public place.” 

“Oh, you’re teasing me?” he asks. 

You laugh into his neck, forcing your face down into the curve of it as you hug him back just as forcefully. Your hands feel a little lax compared to your hands. A moment later, you ask, “Is four shots gonna make me sick?” 

“We are going to have a very good night,” he promises. 

[shortstrawberry]

So, we never got the proper slowburn transition we deserve of Bela going from heartless to her heart beating for the MC. So here's some headcannons and plot bunnies for how things would go after Bela finally got her heart back. Heck, how about we make it even more complicated and let Bela have her memories from previous time loops as well?

Okay, so here we go!!

(Also, quick note. MC is super dense here and can't get a hint)

You really didn't expect that just marching up to Headmistress Miranda and demanding Bela have her heart back would work. But it actually did. And it turns out, Bela did have her heart all along. It was just buried away under layers of whatever hoodoo magic Miranda used. You saw the change happen the minute those layers were taken away.

Bela even without her heart was a person who cared too much. That woman was willing to protect you from crazy cult leader Miranda even at the risk of her own life. Bela's care also showed in the love she has for her family. Let's just say Daniela is out of so much trouble only because Bela intervened all the times from background.

And now, Bela has her heart back. So, are there any noticeable changes? Oh, there are plenty! Although not as drastic as you thought. For starters, Bela still had her crazy work ethic to the T. She just doesn't force you to adopt it now. You are too sick to come to the council room? Bela will come to your dorm room with her soup and take care of you. But she'll also work besides your bedside while you sleep.

Another welcome change is Bela's trust issues piping down a bit. Older Bela refused to drink your coffee. Now, she'll actually pout if you forget to bring her coffee. And yes, you heard it right. Bela actually pouts these days. Especially at you, for some reason.

There is one thing though where Bela has gotten even more uptight ironically. And that's her interactions with her Playgirl sister Cassandra. Whenever Cassandra opens her mouth to ask you out on a date, Bela would make sure to threaten Cassandra with blocking funds for the theatre club. You're glad that Bela is being such a protective friend, but you do think blocking theatre funds is a bit overboard.

You also notice that Bela now shows animosity towards people she was completely fine with before. Exhibit A: Donna Beneviento, Angie's aunt had approached you with a job offer as her assistant at her flower shop. Before you could even reply, Bela popped up behind you, gripping your shoulders in a tight grip as she seethingly replied "No, my Vice President is too occupied in Student Council work with me." Hmm, strange. The interaction was almost like Donna has taken something away from Bela in some past life.

You also wish Bela would kind of stop paying for everything you buy. You get it, Bela feels indebted to you, but c'mon, buying you a rose gold necklace that has Dimiterescu family crest for your birthday is totally overboard! And can someone please ask Daniela and Angie to stop teasing you about how you got a sugar mommy for yourself?

Bela also is less uppity about being touched now. At least when it comes from you. You both have actually started to hug each other before going to your respective dorms. Bela now even initiates a lot of touches on her own! Like one time you fell asleep while working in Library with her, and you woke up with feeling Bela's long fingers lazily carding through your hair.

Lastly, you are also happy that you are getting to spend more time with Bela outside of student council work. Bela is a through and through Dimiterescu when it comes to setting up their hangout places. From museums to extraordinary cafes, Bela has taken you to all the places you can never dream to afford. You're no slacker either though, as you too are finally getting Bela to try fast food burgers and arcade games that Alcina will probably turn her nose up at. But Bela assures you that these hangouts mean the world to her. You're curious though why Bela always stumbles at the word "hangout"

Got anymore ideas you want me to write on? Let me know! Requests are open!

[thisismeracing]

OUR BABY ANGIE | MS47

Pairing: mick schumacher x fem!reader (she/her)

Warnings: mentions of long-distance relationships; not proofread; tooth-rotting fluff.

Word count: 1k

A/n: This was written per this request. Nonny, I'm sorry for taking forever to answer you, honey! I hope you guys like it, let me know your thoughts 💜

my masterlist and my taglist * requests are open!

When you started dating Mick you knew half of your relationship would be long-distance, not only because of his racing weeks but also because you always found yourself super busy with school and work. As the saying goes, it takes two to tango, and well, didn't Mick decide he was the best dancer in the world?!

He did.

Mick Schumacher was not only the dancer figuratively speaking, but he also made sure the music would be there, and that the band would play as you two went.

It felt great to have him as a partner, to share the good and the bad of life and not be afraid of judgment. To Mick, it felt exactly the same, except although your relationship was, to some extent, new, he knew you were there to stay, or at least that he would make sure you stayed as long as possible because life after you made his heart squeeze in sadness. Everyone from his personal life loved you and loved your connection, his mom would ask about you, his sister always talked with you, and his friends would share how happier he seemed whenever you were around or the subject of a conversation,

And then there was Angie, Angie was obsessed with you, she would wiggle her tail excitedly every time she heard your name or your voice, and she went as far as stealing a pair of clothing of yours from Mick's closet to sleep with it in her little dog bed.

That was one of the reasons why Mick thought it would be a good idea to ask you to watch her during this racing week. You loved her and she loved you and he was well aware of how lonely you could get studying non-stop and getting home to an empty apartment. It was joining the useful to the pleasant, everyone would be happy.

When Mick asked if you were okay to stay with his dog for a week while he was away you were surprised and flattered because that meant he trusted you to watch over something he loved and cherish deeply. He trusted you with Angie, it is not the same as when someone lets you borrow a car or a bike, it was a dog.

His dog.

His precious dog.

It was Angie.

And you loved Angie so of course you loved the idea of having her around. When Mick left, after making sure to remind you of her diet, and the little habits you were still getting used to, Angie curled herself on your side and just chilled with one of her toys while you took notes to get ahead for an important class.

Things went smoothly during the week. She would make sure to stay around you, and sometimes it felt like she was watching you and not the other way around. You two would go for walks before you left to work and then when you got home from uni. You would eat together, her little bowl of dog food close to you while you were seating on the sofa or sometimes even on the ground beside her. Your bond just got stronger and you were starting to wish to have her around all the time. It was common to see her when Mick was around, but it wasn't the same as getting home to her or seeing her happy wiggle when you gave her a treat or let her run in the park.

When Mick got home you were laying on the sofa watching a movie after a stressful college day. Angie was laying right beside you, her little head resting on your belly while you scratched mindlessly behind her ears and ran your fingers through her soft fur.

You were almost sleeping when you heard the keys jiggling and the door opening. Angie was already at the door, tail excitedly wiggling for her best friend. Mick got in and dropped his luggage at the entrance before crouching down to pet and hug her.

It felt domestic whenever he decided to come straight to you from the airport instead of going to his own house. It felt like your home was his home, and you loved that. Having Angie around now only amplified the feeling.

"Hi, my angel!! I've missed you too!!" Mick scratched her ears while she tried to lick all over his face, "How was it staying with mommy this time? Did she you enough treats? Did she spoil you, Angie?"

You froze on your spot. Mick had just referred to you as Angie's mom. The mom of his dog to whom he was the dad. And you were the mom.

Your heart rate picked up and everything just combined: how much you missed him, how he was always the best boyfriend you've ever had, how he trusted you, and now, how he saw a future with you, how serious he was about it. You felt almost like crying.

"Hey, meine Liebe," you were so lost in your thoughts you did not see when Mick approached you. A huge grin on his face.

"Hi, babe," you managed to answer while getting up to hug him close to you. His arms circled your waist and smashed your bodies together.

"I've missed you so much," he breathes, distancing himself just enough to find your lips with his in a passionate and longing kiss.

"I've missed you too," you whispered, hands on his shoulders for support.

Mick didn't miss a beat before laying both of you on the couch, your body propped on top of his, his hands imprinting themselves around you.

"Did you refer to me as Angie's mom?" you blurted anxiously after some minutes of silence, too many feelings to be kept inside.

Mick studied your face for a beat, his fingers caressing your jaw and chin, "I-I did, I'm sorry if it-"

"No, no need to be sorry. I'm Angie's mom, she's my baby," you happily exclaimed and Mick chuckled.

"She's our baby," he corrected pecking your lips.

"I love you," it was a whisper, but he was watching your lips and he saw the exact second it scaped between them.

"I love you," he repeated and you kissed him one more time before making space for Angie to cuddle you two on the couch.

You couldn't be happier.

taglist: @sachaa-ff @ferrariloverr @kenanlotus0 @mickslover @dalsuwaha @formulakay3 @mishaandthebrits

[frostdemigod]

Lads, new endfield trailer dropped and we see some stuff. I'll put my entire thoughts and stuff under the read more for spoilers sake but also because I ramble a lot

A Surtr clone(?) and an Aurora clone

And I know they're clones for one reason. Just like Angelina, they were infected. Endfield has no cure for oripathy, at least from what I remember. So they would make clones and do memory transplants like Angelina did, but her files show that she is clearly her own person, she looks the same and has the memories and stories of the old Angelina, but she knows she isn't her.

Warfarin is alive, as mentioned from Angie's files, and she probably isn't a clone, mainly due to sarkaz having insane lifespans. Surtr would probably be the same if she wasn't infected. Oripathy isn't gonna spare her for 300 odd years, so her being a clone is probably a guarantee. Unless the oripathy meds had an advancement great enough to stall her infection for that long, until it became cheap enough to manufacture constantly. I know Eyja's oripathy got worse so Surtr isn't entirely safe, although her infection level is still pretty low in arknights.

But isn't this like. Super sad? Imagine seeing someone who looks exactly like one you shared memories with, spent time together with... They have those memories, and they look just like them. But they aren't the same person. They have their own personality and everything. They just have the memories injected in there.

They're not the people you used to know. They never will be.

I just find this like super depressing... the more I think about it the less I want to see the old ak cast in endfield, show me future generations like the new ch'en and stuff! That's cool! They lived a happy life and the family is still going! Continuing traditions, mentioning history, reminiscing about their ancestors. I love that idea! The world truly feels like it moves!!

But seeing someone you used to know as a ship of theseus situation... that like... really hurts man. Yeah they probably wanted to try the clone thing, but it isn't perfect. It's not like a robotic body you just plug in a program into and it's good to go. You're just injecting some of the past in there but they doesnt become the person the memories are from.

Like, am I weird for this incoherent rambling about the logistics of this? That I don't want to see characters I like basically cloned in this manner, because it gives me an inexplicable sadness about the situation. That our best solution to oripathy is a copy-paste method that we haven't even perfected yet as a "cure" or some medication to delay the inevitable.

The chances of Shana appearing in endfield are nonexistent. She doesn't even have a story appearance in arknights itself aside from her operator record. I know that if we do get more old cast, it would probably be the infected ones too, and this genuinely makes me happy in a twisted way. I don't want to see her like that. It'd hurt. So the chances being as slim as they are is soothing, but it isn't 0. That's what terrifies me.

Imagine I somehow was put in a couple century stasis and woke up and saw my brother the same as before. I imagine he went through the same as me, we talk, everything is normal. But then I learn that he isn't my brother, just has the memories and same body but his personality is different, his likes, dislikes, fears, it's all different... I'd be terrified man. I want to scream, run away, cry. It's like a skinwalker, some scenario straight out of a horror setting. Arknights is a terrifying setting as is. But this makes it much, much more eerie. So with every returning operator, the sadder the setting of endfield makes me.

[karlachismylife]

character ask thingy for konig, thank you sm I hope your day is going great! <3

Oooh, König! I'm not talking about him much on here, am I? Might have something to do with the betrayal of my friend whom I dragged into the COD fandom for my Karlach x Soap team or at least Ghoap only to lose her to the Ghost x König gang... (I'm joking, we're still having fun, ship whomever you want). Thanks for asking!! And also thank you, my days are pretty okay lately, hope yours are too <3

If anyone else is interested, I'll be glad to talk about someone else from COD and BG3. The game itself is here if someone wants to reblog!

So, König, the big Austrian that has literally a couple parapgraphs of bio on the wiki but a ton of fans to make up for it, eh?

favorite thing about them

I'll do two, because one is mostly canon based and the other mostly headcanon, but not fully. The canon favourite thing is that he's imperfect at his job. It's not just his size that prevented him from becoming a sniper, it also says he is "unable to stay still". I think it would be easy to make him a total machine and just slap the social anxiety on top as the only "imperfection" he has, especially since he is a minor character in a fucking pew pew ka-boom game. But they literally said he's actually not that good at his job (like, if he's unable to stay still, this won't impact just his sniper abilities, you know?). So that's neat, I love when people are allowed to be not that perfect at their job. And the favourite headcanon thing is that he's a gentle giant, I just love the type. Yeah, he's huge and kills people, but he'll also cradle a little bunny like it's the most precious creature on Earth.

least favorite thing about them

Uhh apart from the fact that people for some reason (ahem, racism) replace Gaz with him instead of just adding him?.. I think he either compensates for his anxiety or just feels much more confident at work and it makes him a little too cocky without needed (for me at least) charisma/unseriousness towards himself. Judging mostly from his body language. I know he has a sense of humour, but yeah... maybe calm down a little big guy.

favorite line

Any of the few lines in German he has. Or the "pick your guts off the floor", lol. I just like German and König is a funny fella, especially when he sounds angy.

brOTP

König x Gaz! There have been a couple arts on the theme and I absolutely adore them. Stop pretending they can't coexist! Also, Kyle would definitely find a way with words to make König feel more at ease off duty or would handle the way König is in the field easily.

OTP

I don't actually have any preferences at all, I like everything I see with him simply because people explore different dynamics and it's the most fun part for me. BUT I'll say like what I saw from Ghoap x König less because everything I saw puts Soap into a position/dynamic I don't really enjoy that much. Doesn't mean there isn't something I'll like a lot tho!

nOTP

As always, nOTPs are not my thing, but toxic stuff upsets me.

random headcanon

Also giving you two: he loves wearing lingerie but is a little bit ashamed of it and definitely hides it and he's generally a sweet tooth, especially for chocolate, so a slice (several) of good Sachertorte will make him really happy.

unpopular opinion

Uhh... he doesn't have a huge dick?.. No one in my universe does cuz I don't see the appeal (we have huge straps in my universe tho. but toys are separate). I don't know what's popular opinion lmao, sorry.

song i associate with them

Oooh, I actually have one this time! It's from my favourite German band Oomph! - "Kleinstadtboy". I like the whole album it's from because they experimented with their sound and quite successfully in my opinon, and this one has both the lyrics (yeah it's about gayyyys but also toxic masculinity in general. fits him well I think) and the according sound. The overblown dry electronics crackling/rasping just suits him, I think. I think he smells of static electricity too.

favorite picture of them

I don't really have one? But I like him doing different finishers. Looks impressive thanks to his size.

[eletricheart]

Hiii! I have a request for Donna. You can write about Donna and f!reader who don't speak or understand English but they were injured and lost

Wounded

(Donna Beneviento x Reader)

*image creds to owner

Word count: 737

i did my best😭 hope u like it🫶 its all fluff i promise

ps: i didnt specify the gender, it didnt really matter in the story, i wrote a lot "you" so...idk

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You were running through the snow, desperately trying to gain distance from whatever creature was chasing you. You didn't know what it was, all you saw was blood and a howl, then you ran.

Your legs were burning and the trees were leaving multiple scratches on your face. Suddenly you were pushed to the side, your brain barely registering the pain of falling down a slide.

Your breaths were coming in hard, your lungs were hurting and there was blood dripping down from your head to your eyes. All you could see was a grave surrounded by flowers, ironic since you felt like dying.

You tried to stand but after running, falling and having an unknown pain in your side, you fell back down.

At least the place was nice, the moon's shine left the flowers sparkling slightly.

You heard shuffling and thought the creature came to finish it's job until little doll feet stood in front of your face. You noticed the doll speaking to you, unfortunately you did not speak the language so just stared at her confused.

Your eyes were starting to close when the smells of fresh paint and leaves slightly woke you up. You could feel someone lifting you, wincing when she touched your wounds.

You didn't stay awake enough to see the path, all you remember is waking up in a bed in a strange room. Your body was covered in bandages and there was a doctor doll sitting next to you.

You barely could move but managed to turn your head enough to properly look at them, a chuckle left your lips hurting your ribs a bit.

You were close to falling asleep again when the door opened gently. A woman dressed in black was holding a tray with what appeared to be tea and some fruits. She settled it on the nearby table and approached you.

She pointed at your bandage. "The tea will heal it." Her voice wasn't louder than a whisper, cracking on a few words.

You furrowed your brows, not understanding what she says. You attempted to speak in your language but three words in and the woman shook her head, held one finger up(as in one second) and left.

You couldn't move therefore waited. She didn't take long to return with a notebook and pen.

She wrote down her name and pointed at herself. You nodded and told her your name, also asking her to carry on.

Donna understood your name but the rest was messy, so she tilted her head momentarily confused, to which you picked up on and looked at the tray.

The dollmaker nodded and laid it beside you, helping you into a sitting position. You ate in silence, she would occasionally stare at you but most of the time looked at the floor. Once you were done she took the tray and set it back on the table before moving back to sit beside you.

Donna kept wondering on how to speak to you, she could find a dictionary but there weren't many options in her house and she didn't know what language you were speaking. Perhaps she could ask the name, but she also wasn't sure on how to.

After what felt like ages for the dollmaker, she picked up the notebook and wrote a sad face. She presented to you and pointed at the bandages.

You were happy she was trying to talk to you, not hiding your smile and making a more or less gesture. You still needed to thank her and the language barrier was an issue, so you pointed at your wounds, gave her a thumbs up, pointed at her and made a heart with your hands.

Donna was thankful you couldn't see her face through the veil for she was blushing furiously, she still nodded politely but was melting on the inside.

The next days were the same, she'd come in, check your wounds and you'd talk through drawings. Angie absolutely adored this, believing it was all a game, eventually she understood you couldn't understand when she talked so the doll would tease Donna and tell her secrets to you. You would always look at her with a confused but smiling face.

Donna did find out which language you spoke and arranged a dictionary, now both of your days were filled with studying and giggling when one would say something in the other language.

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

requests are open: masterlist