#childhood memories oh lord

[local-shrub]

Omg i miss the old teen titans! The ending man😭

I like in Teen Titans that Robin’s mask is just as expressive as like cartoon spidey masks. Especially when they do this thing:

OR WHEN HE DOES THIS:

he’s so silly I love him lmao

[song-tam]

can't tell if my replies actually sent pls know if they didn't i also loathed rafayel with a burning passion. xander was second least favorite for the SAME REASON (both of them grab u without consent literally on the first meeting) but at least he wasnt a little BITCH

NOOO THEY DIDNR SENT BUT IM GLAD YOU AGREE i cannot STAND rafayel. ugh. im gonna be real i kinda forgot the grabbing thing i just remember thinking that he was SUCH a cunt. total trash. i hate the way that you talk the way that you walk i hate the way that you dress <- me abt rafayel. xander was like……… whatever i guess??? like he was FINE he was just so BLAND i didn’t care for him at all. anyways!!!! love & deepspace was an Experience

[fairsweetlonging]

time travel au where liu qingge and shen qingqiu (yuan) end up accidentally traveling a decade back in time before luo binghe was amitted to qing jing peak and before shen qingqiu had his qi deviation, but after their generation has risen to peak lords.

which means, shen yuan realizes quickly, as they're accosted by said peak lords, that he will have to face shen jiu.

as they're being cleared for demonic energy and the likes, mu qingfang of course instantly detects the poison without a cure eating away at shen yuan's meridians. liu qingge pulls a copy of the treatment plan out of his sleeve (shen yuan blushes a bit, did liu qingge always keep that on hand?), and just like in the current timeline, they agree to keep it under wraps.

shen jiu tries various times to get a moment alone with shen yuan, but he never quite manages because liu qingge is there, who is also... nice?? to him?? for some reason?? shen jiu gets a bit flustered at the solemn politeness and skitters off.

it comes out pretty quickly that shen yuan has "memory loss", and thus can't remember anything that's currently taking place in this time. shen yuan expects scorn, hatred and disdain from shen jiu, expects to be grabbed and interrogated, to arouse suspicion.

but shen jiu looks....... sad???

being transported here threw shen yuan's qi off-balance (even liu qingge had to sit down, which means it's bad), and his cultivation is already so unstable, so when the peak lords are all squabbling and arguing and threatening and raising their voice, he can feel his body shut down. he sees yue qingyuan start to move towards him, which, knowing the future yue qingyuan, he really isn't up for right now—but before the sect leader can get to him someone else is at his back, transferring him qi, holding him up gently by his shoulders, then coaxing him up, leading him outside

shen yuan's been fed qi by every peak lord at least once. he doesn't recognize this one. that means it can only be one person.

he looks up. it's shen jiu.

and it's bizarre, getting fussed over by the scum villain, having gentle hands run along his back, his hair, that clear, soothing voice calming him down. and somehow shen jiu knows exactly what to do?? somehow it works perfectly on him?? it's almost as if shen jiu has known him his whole—

oh.

bodies, like homes, hold memories, even if the original occupants are no longer there. it's the milestone marks on the doorpost that chart a child's growth, blurry photographs faded by time, scuffed floors from well-walked paths, and tiny holes in the walls where pictures once hung.

shen jiu takes him to the bamboo house, pours him tea, and asks, calmly, what he remembers from their childhood.

it's not his childhood, so shen yuan doesn't actually remember anything, but the body he's in does. the memories it holds are emotional rather than visual; he remembers being alone, scared, and hungry. he remembers anger, pain. a dark room. loud voices. he remembers his heart skipping a beat when heavy boots stomp his way. the sound of a whip.

he doesn't have to lie. the memories aren't his own, and they're from long ago, which means shen jiu has them too. and, he supposes, this is his only chance to find out what really happened.

but shen jiu doesn't say anything about it. he just nods and stares, intensely. then he asks shen yuan if he remembers yue qingyuan. shen yuan says no, he doesn't. the conversation takes a very strange turn after that. shen yuan can't help but feel a little queasy when shen jiu asks him if yue qingyuan has taken advantage of his memory loss.

"has he come into your home? has he brought you gifts, sweets? does he invite you for tea? did you accept?"

he has. shen yuan doesn't know why that would be a problem, the sect leader has been nothing but kind and helpful and patient. and generous, too.

when he says yes shen jiu looks furious.

liu qingge (his one) comes to pick him up, and his time with shen jiu is cut short. somewhere he's glad, cuddling into liu qingge's back as he holds him while they fly. he feels a little bad for yue qingyuan, knowing he's probably caused a big fight, but it doesn't sit right with him. he wishes he knew what happened.

.

liu qingge, meanwhile, is having the time of his life fighting himself. it's good practice!

[artyandink]

UNCONSCIOUSLY SEXUAL.ᐟREADER, where you didn’t even know that most of the things you said, wore or did were kind of/very provocative. you were just… sweet, a total darling to the adults, which was why MARTHA and JONATHAN lent CLARK to help you when your house had been burgled and your parents were abroad, so they couldn’t help. Of course. your pretty little head didn’t know how a boy in your year who you’d been friends with since childhood, but you were happy to spend time with the all-american, thirsted over farm boy. He was just pretty (your brain knew better, he was hot as high hell. to the point where your panties got damp to the thought of his biceps).

CLARK was in a similar boat— he wasn’t sure how much longer he’d last— he wasn’t sweating bullets because of the heat, he was sweating due to the face that your pretty lips — shit, he hadn’t even thought that way about you before — were wrapped around your thumb after a sweet glass of lemonade, in a low-necked tank, high-cut shorts, and he was so sure that he could’ve seen baby pink lace peeking out from the waistband.

Whatever it was, it was killing him fast.

Plus, he knew those panties matched a nice lil’ bra in your room that he’d unintentionally seen when up there dropping off notes— just another thing that made his mind run circles. Like, c’mon, he knew for sure that his mom and dad taught him better than to think that way about girls who didn’t even mean to do it, his brain wired itself to think that way. Now that he mentioned it, that sounded like a really bad excuse, he just felt guilty for objectifying you.

It wasn’t just the provocative actions like bending over or accidentally saying things that sounded like they alluded to sex.

it was your big eyes. your pouty lips. your perfect legs and the swing of your perfect hips when you walked. how you were so innocent and didn’t have the foggiest clue what some guys wanted to do to your gorgeous body. your ass in the pretty skirts and shorts you liked to wear. the bows on all your clothes. How you tilted your head when you didn’t know something. The bat of your eyelashes when pleading for someone to do something for you— it almost always forced a hand.

CLARK had to remind himself to stay calm. composed. a friend—

“Clark, mmh,” oh, fuck, the pretty moan that slipped from your parted lips as your soaking pussy glided up and down his cock was intoxicating, CLARK’S head tipping back against the sofa cushions at the sound, hand smoothing up your hip, to your waist and back down over your ass and thigh. his other hand trapped your little pink panties in a tight fist, his mind subconsciously making a decision to keep it so he could use it as a poor substitute for this tight cunt, dear Lord.

He was probably going to hell for using the Lord’s name in this context.

“That’s me,” He nodded, voice cracking right before a whimper, an honest to God whimper left his mouth upon feeling your pussy clench around him and seeing how your cheeks were flushed, pretty lips in a perfect ‘o’ and how your gorgeous tits moved up and down in that tank top. Up and down, up and down— he was going to get hypnotised.

CLARK didn’t even know how he got here— his foggy memory recalling something like getting you straddling his thighs, slipping his fingers between your legs to find your perfect panties already soaked— if that’s what he did to you, who knew what else you’d do for him?

His jaw clenched, feeling rooted to the spot as his fingers dug into your ass— but it wasn’t even him moving you, you were doing it all on your own, being such a big girl and bouncing on his cock yourself, with small little whimpers every time he filled you to the brim. You were moaning about how he was “s’big” and how you were “s’full”, eyes rolled back with your fingers digging into his back and along his hair.

His head lolled forward, only to have his eyes zero in on how your pussy sucked in his cock to pair with his super hearing overwhelming him with the wet sounds and your little moans and babbling murmurs hit his ears like a freight train. He didn’t help his case, he’d begun to jerk his hips up only slightly— but to you that felt like a rough thrust that had you crying out his name. Perks of having superhuman strength, huh?

And superhuman sensitivity, any longer and he’d be in the same state as you.

“S’tight, don’t— don’tcha stop—”

Oh, too late. Guess it’s not your fault that you’re UNCONSCIOUSLY SEXUAL.

special tags 4 my clark moots: @faiszt, @blackynsupremacy, @angelbabyyy99, @svnriseblvdd if there’s anyone I forgot I apologise profusely also @cherrygirlfriend I told u about this so here’s my vision

had to do a new line to include the lovely @sabrinasopposite

[zerocoded]

hm. so. homecoming wings spoilers, be warned.

i just finished caleb’s branch on the main story and i’m actually crying? i’m not going to talk about the little holes they left on the story because the game was never about scratching the player’s itch of writing excellency like a book would do…

but why did our farewell with caleb sounded so bittersweet? like we actually “lost” our childhood bestfriend or the idea we had of him and there is no comfort after that. that is just there, in plain sight: we are not happy with him and we let him go in weird terms. them leaving things as they were pissed me sooo much! but again, i must consider the cards and extra content after that happened… so we are actually in good terms, or something like that.

infold really put the yandere behavior on him and i love it! at the same time, they let us feel that teenage loving side of him to ease a little (and confuse) our brains.

the sleeping pills??? the “sit back” voice??? the “i want to protect you so much that i’m ok with being the bad guy in your head as long as i keep you safe”???

🔊 THE CUP SCENE. YES. OH MY GAWD. and then his reaction like “are you finished?” after that- LORD HAVE MERCY. his battle attire, animation and lines are my favorite now! (after lumiére ofc)

caleb is so hot and his memories and cards are so unique!!! you get that feeling of first love and intimacy only the mc’s trope with him can give us. AND HE IS CRAZY ABOUT US AND IF YOU DONT LIKE THAT I FEEL SO SORRY FOR YOU. cause you’re missing out on this guy.

what really got me was his yearning, his trailers really gave us that and i’m glad it wasn’t just trope bait. he looks disheartened when he sees that we are ACTUALLY pissed at him. and when he goes to ruffle our hair and then stops his hands when we’re saying goodbye? OH NO MY SHAYLA.

this was me yapping. i’m not disappointed at all, the 3.0 version is full of nice features. it’s a shame the game is mostly a scam, but who am i to complain right? i’ll watch everything on yt later <3 CALEB YOU’RE SO HOT PLS GIVE ME A CHANCE.

anyways, live laugh love caleb.

[aemondloverr]

𝐑𝐞𝐥𝐮𝐜𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐉𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐲 𝐩𝐭. 𝐈

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐂𝐫𝐞𝐠𝐚𝐧 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦!𝐕𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐨𝐧!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 (𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟐) 

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟐 • 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 • 𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: As the eldest daughter of Rhaenyra, you are sent to the North to negotiate terms with Lord Stark.

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: Disapproving Jace

𝐰𝐜: 𝟐.𝟒𝐤

𝐀/𝐍: Ngl school was kicking my ass but I still wanna deliver 😪 (btw, cregan appears in the next part, not the first. sorryyy :p

❆ • ❆ • ❆ • ❆

“Mother? You sent for me?”

Rhaenyra is sitting at a table in her chambers, sipping wine and surrounded by various papers and documents. She looks up as you enter and a soft smile tugs at her lips, her eyes seeming to light up for just a moment

“Yes, my daughter. Come, sit with me.”

She pats the seat beside her, clearing a space among the piles of documents. There's an expectant look in her eye, her gaze resting on you

“I have something to discuss with you.”

Oh no

You know whenever those words come from the mouth of a mother, it’s never good. You’re either in trouble, or it’s something serious.

You approach the chair nervously and sit.

She sighs and sets down her glass of wine, shifting her attention fully to you. Her eyes seem to search your face for a moment before she speaks again.

“You're growing up so fast, you know that? It feels like just yesterday you were a little girl running through the gardens, laughing and playing with your brothers.”

You smile at the mention of fond memories.

Oh Gods. A speech is always a bad indicator. Especially one of childhood.

A pang of bittersweet nostalgia seems to pass over Rhaenyra’s features as she continues, her voice taking on a hint of regret

“Sometimes, I wish I could freeze time and keep you just as you are right now, still young and innocent, before the world has a chance to harden your heart. But… that’s not the way things work, is it?”

“I know mother…” Your smile quickly fades and you worry for what she’ll say next.

Rhaenyra holds your gaze for a moment before she speaks again, her voice soft and earnest

“You're much more perceptive than your brothers, you know that? You always were, even as a child. You always seemed to know what I was thinking before I even said it-”

“Is there something you want me to do?” It would be nice if she stopped beating around the bush and just asked.

She takes a deep breath as if steeling herself for what comes next, her gaze unwavering and intent on you

“…As you know, my reign is not without its challenges. There are those who question my claim to the throne, who think that my rule is not rightful. I need you to understand, my love, that in the future you may be forced to make difficult decisions, decisions that will impact not just your own life, but the future of the entire realm.”

You stare, expectantly

“This is why I am asking you to go to Winterfell…”

What…??

“But mother…”

She knows that this is the part where you'll likely protest

“I know you don't want to go, my love. I know that leaving home, leaving me, is difficult for you. Believe me, I would not ask this of you if there was any other option.”

“But Cregan…you know what he did…”

You’d expected something important yes, but this?…This was simply too much to ask of you .

Her hand comes to rest on top of yours in a comforting gesture.

“I know, my love. I know it hurt you greatly, believe me, it pained me to see you so distraught.”

“So why can’t you send Jace. Why would you send me to see him??”

“Jace is a good, honourable boy. I know he would do his duty and serve me well as a diplomatic envoy to Winterfell. But he is not you. I'm sending you for a reason, my love.”

“And why’s that??” You begin to get frustrated

Rhaenyra looks straight into your eyes, her gaze unwavering as she speaks

“Because Cregan Stark is a proud and stubborn man, one who values strength and resilience. He is unlikely to listen to just anyone. But he knows you. He once cared for you, deeply. I'm sending you there as someone who has the potential to sway him to our cause.”

“This is not fair. How could you even consider asking me this when you know—“

She sees you tearing up and reaches out to brush a strand of hair out of your face, her touch, gentle and tender

“You know that duty must take precedence over desire…”

“For the realm...” You mutter, a tear falling

Rhaenyra's heart aches to see the tears in your eyes, but she doesn't falter in her resolve. She lifts her free hand to your face, gently wiping away a tear that threatens to spill down your cheek.

“Yes, my love. For the realm…”

She gently pulls you closer, letting you rest your head against her shoulder. She runs her fingers through your hair, her touch soft and soothing

“…For our family. For all the people we are sworn to protect.”

*****

Later that evening at supper

The entire family is gathered around the large table in the dining hall, eating their supper and engaging in light conversation. Rhaenyra is seated at the head of the table, daemon at the other with Jace seated to her left and Luke to her right.

Joffrey is seated across from Jace, chattering away happily about some toy he received. Rhaenyra glances up to where you are sitting, a small but weary smile on her face

Jace notices your quieter-than-usual demeanor and nudges you gently with his elbow

“Hey, are you alright? You're awfully quiet tonight.”

“Yea I’m alright, I’ll tell you later” you whisper.

Jace looks at you for a moment, his expression one of concern, but nods understandingly. He returns to his food, but you can feel his gaze occasionally flicking over to you throughout the meal.

*****

Rhaenyra stands and taps her glass.

At her signal, the conversation around the table dies down, and everyone turns to face her. Rhaenyra stands, her expression serious as she looks around at her family

She clears her throat and speaks, her voice steady and commanding

"Before everyone retires for the evening, I have an announcement to make."

Rhaenyra takes a deep breath, her gaze flickering briefly to you before continuing.

"As you all know, the stability of the realm depends on maintaining strong alliances and relationships with our noble houses. It is therefore necessary for me to send an envoy to Winterfell to reinforce our ties there."

A pause.

"I have decided to send your sister to Winterfell as our representative. She will leave in two days' time."

There is a moment of stunned silence as the rest of the family processes this information. Jace looks over at you, his forehead creasing with confusion. Luke's mouth has dropped open in surprise. Even Joffrey is silent, for once.

Jace protests. Daemon just sits back and watches the drama

He speaks up immediately, his voice filled with concern

"Mother, surely you can't be serious? You're sending our sister all the way to Winterfell? Alone? It's too dangerous!"

Rhaenyra looks at Jace with sympathy but irritation at his protest.

"I understand your concern, my son, but this decision is not up for debate. Your sister is perfectly capable of handling herself and representing our house honorably."

“At least let me go with her“

"No, Jace. I cannot spare you here, I need you by my side. One dragon in the open is enough and the greens could spot you” your mother says sternly.

“Mother you can’t just-”

Joffrey cries and Luke tries to comfort him. He doesn’t like the arguing and yelling

“It is done Jacaerys. You will argue no more about this!”

You quickly excuse yourself from the table, hurrying to your chambers.

Jace looks like he wants to say something, but Rhaenyra gives him a warning glance, and he reluctantly stays silent

As you head back to your chambers, you can hear the murmurs of the rest of the family resume, their low voices discussing the announcement Rhaenyra made. As you begin to pack your things, there's a soft knock on your door

“Enter”

Jace enters the room, closing the door behind him. He stands awkwardly for a moment, his hands fidgeting at his sides. Finally, he takes a deep breath and speaks, his voice filled with concern

"Are you really okay with this, going to Winterfell and seeing...him again?"

“I…have to” your back is turn from him as you put your clothing into leather bags

His expression softens and he moves closer to you, placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder* "I know, but that doesn't make it any easier. I don't want you to get hurt, especially not by him."

“You need not worry Jace, I will be fine.” You already know that’s a lie. And he does too. But saying it out loud makes it feel true.

"You can say that all you want, but that doesn't make it any less worrying. I know how much he meant to you before."

“I am not going there to pursue him, I am going there to gain the North as an ally for our house.”

Jace nods, his expression serious once more

"I know that's the purpose of the mission, but you can't deny that seeing him again will be hard for you. You have feelings for him."

“What are you saying Jace.”

Jace sighs and runs a hand through his hair, glancing at you with concern "I'm saying that you're fooling yourself if you think going to Winterfell and seeing Cregan Stark isn't going to stir up feelings you thought you had buried."

“So what if it does…It’s not like I’m going to act on them.” You’re just going to do what is asked of you and leave. Nothing more.

"You say that now, but what happens if he wants to revisit the past with you? What if he wants to rekindle what you had between you?"

You let out a huff of frustration. “Just stop Jace. You don’t know anything anyways…”

He takes a step back, his expression hurt, almost. "What do I know? I know that you've been in love with Cregan Stark since you were children, and I know how much it hurt you when he left and you still haven’t gotten over it!”

You turn and look at him in disbelief that he would mention the very thing you’ve been trying to avoid. “Just go…Leave!”

Jace's expression softens at your harsh tone, and he takes another step back, swallowing thickly. He opens his mouth as if to say something, but then closes it again, his eyes flicking to the ground before back up to you.

“Fine.”

He shuts the door with force.

You stand alone in your room, the silence heavy and oppressive without Jace's presence. You feel your emotions welling up inside of you, a mixture of anger and sadness and frustration at Jace's words. But deep down, you can't shake the feeling that you know he’s right.

*****

For the next two days you stay in your room, packing and pondering until the night it’s time to leave.

The atmosphere in the castle is tense, the realization of your imminent departure hanging heavy in the air. Rhaenyra and the rest of the family have gathered to see you off.

Rhaenyra stands next to Silverwing, watching you with a mixture of sadness and pride. The dragon emits a low, melancholic whine, as if sensing the gravity of the situation. The boys and daemon stand on either side of Rhaenyra, their faces stoic but anxious.

“I will see you in few weeks time.”

Rhaenyra nods, her expression solemn. She steps forward and hugs you tightly, pulling you to her chest. The hug is firm and possessive, conveying a mixture of love and protectiveness.

"Be safe, my love. I will count every day until your return."

You step aside to hug Jace. He returns your hug, his arms wrapping around you tightly. He holds you close for a moment, his chin resting on the top of your head. When he pulls back, his expression is still serious, and he mutters quietly.

"Be careful, alright? Don't do anything stupid."

“No promises…”

Jace gives your shoulder a reassuring squeeze before stepping back to allow Luke to say his goodbyes. Luke hugs you tightly, burying his face into your shoulder. When he pulls back, he's fighting back tears, his voice wavering when he speaks

"I don't want you to go."

Joffrey then hugs at your waist, teary eyed, his aebottom lip trembling.

"Please don't go, please...I want you to stay."

Joffrey buries his face into your stomach, his small hands tugging at your dress. Luke places a hand on Joffrey's shoulder, trying to soothe his younger brother's distress. He looks at you helplessly, his own eyes glassy with tears

“Hush sweetlings…I wont be gone forever” You kiss their cheeks and tops of their heads

"You'll come back, right? You promise?"

“I promise.”

Joffrey and Luke both look up at you, their eyes wide and pleading, searching your face for assurance. Rhaenyra steps forward, her hand resting on each of their shoulders.

"Your sister will be back before you know it, and she'll come back with a great success for our house."

Even Jace tears up a bit but rolls his eyes, trying to play it off.

"I'm not tearing up. I just got something in my eye, that's all." He rubs at his eye, trying to cover up the fact that he is, in fact, on the verge of crying.

Then comes Daemond with a large, tight hug, practically suffocating you.

“Alright alright I love you too” you struggle with a strained voice and he finally lets go

“Just come back in one piece.”

“You know I will” you playfully push his shoulder.

You tie your bags to Silverwing and mount her saddle, blowing air kisses as you lead silver wing out of the den and out into the dark of the night.

The entire family watches as you and Silverwing take flight, the dragon's wings beating strongly as you soar into the black sky.

A sense of melancholy hangs in the air, the weight of your absence already palpable among those left behind. Rhaenyra's expression is solemn as she watches you disappear into the distance, a silent prayer on her lips for your safe return.

❆ • ❆ • ❆ • ❆

𝐀/𝐍: I hope you enjoyed and forgive me for the delay. AP clases are NOT for the weak 😭 part 2 will definitely be out within the next few weeks tho. Let me cook.

PS. The plot is a bit different from the teaser. Please don’t be mad at me🙏🏾

@beebeechaos @iv-vee @aemondwhoresworld @obscure-beauty @6ternalsun @msmarvelknight @melsunshine @cregansfourthwife

[skyrigel]

You are in love 11 | B.B

Part 1 of " You are in love "

Pairing: Benedict bridgerton x best friend! Reader

Warning: smut, 18+, p in v ( rough), fingering, fluffy fluff, Idiots in love, might have used whore, use of f word( alot) double orgasm, teasing, inexperienced! Reader, horny! Reader

Rigel's note 🪩: aftermath of my " You are in love 1 ", this is the confrontation and smut part of the request. My cow is so angry at me—i write so cringe sometimes, 10 points to your house if you find 1989 ref other than title.

You can hear it in the silence...

It was only a minute after you laid in your bed, you heard it, a soft thud against your window followed by another.

Your heart dreaded because it wasn't the first time your best friend had thrown rocks at your window, first time—when he called you a duck in front of lord Ivor, a childhood memory and second when he was bored so he thought calling upon his fairer sex friend would be the best choice and another time—

This particular one was very violent against the glass and for a moment you wondered if it would break, you pushed the blankets aside, feeling the night chill settle in your bones as you pulled your night gown closer.

Your feet touched the cold floor, chill reaching up your spine as you dragged yourself to the window and there he was.

Basking under the moonlight and ever so beautiful, his cheeks flushed like he had run miles and his heart heaving, his eyes widened at your silhouette and a deep sigh escaped just after a smile took refuge on his lips, those treacherous lips.

You opened the window, he dropped the pebble.

" Benedict ! " You screamed whispered down at him, his smile grew but his expressions were pained, like he was deeply confused.

" Can we talk ? " It was loud and clear, echoing in the dark, he wasn't drunk but there was something very intoxicating about him.

You face palmed, feeling your heart sink because you still haven't forget the warm tingling, still haven't forgotten the way your heart cart wheeled along with everything inside you, crawling it's way to Benedict.

Every friendly castle crumbling in mere moments, just by remembering how tenderly his mouth moved when he was protecting you and how tenderly it would be to have it against your—

" Please, please, please, " He chanted, not attempting to keep it low, then he dropped to his knees and even in the dark you couldn't mistake the silvery bead, those were tears.

" Give me one chance, let me talk, let me—"

" I am coming ! " You leaned across the sill, telling him shush with your fingers as you backed away, running out of your room but tiptoeing all right, missing the third step because it creaked and opening the back door soundlessly to your secret gardens.

Despite the fear of getting caught and chill that was swirling, your own heart wasn't being much help, your face grew warm at the mere sight of him and let alone the other embarassing things that he did to you, just by existing.

" Are you mad ? " You stomped your feet across him, crossing your arms as he looked up, his knees penetrating in grass, like he was begging for all of his sins, like you were something to worship, like a false god.

Benedict's eyes were red in the moonish glow, he was radiating, he was crying, he was so very beautiful.

" You are really mad Benedict ! Go home, we will talk tomorrow—"

" I thought i lost you." He said, it was more of a cry but you were too baffled to form words anymore. He sniffed.

" I thought i would never see you again...when I lost you...my heart..my heart was the closest to exploding." He said, clutching his heart as his lips parted in a gasp. It was paining him but it pained you all the same.

" Oh Benedict." You whispered, your hand inevitably caressing his cheek as he shaked his head profusely.

" You don't understand how much... fuck...I came here all the way thinking you would be gone somewhere i couldn't follow...like i fucked everything again—"

" You ran all the way here ?! " You garbbed his chin, you knew it would hurt but you needed to know this.

" That's not the point." He avoided your gaze but you jerked him right up, eye to eye.

" Are you fucking mad Benedict ?! Are you drunk ? " You leaned to sniff his mouth but he only reeked of the few lemonade he downed with you.

" I...no...I am sorry." Benedict swallowed hard, his adam rolled and readjusted again and the warmness was there again, spreading through the creaks of your bones.

" That was really stupid Benedict." You said softly, you couldn't imagine what whistledown would write if she had seen him running wild.

" I know, I know...it just seemed right to me, like I couldn't stop myself even if I tried but I am sorry, i don't wanna lose you, and I meant it all, truly and completely." Benedict said, his hand grabbing your wrist like you would run away and leave him.

" Benedict we aren't talking about running..?"

Benedict's brow raised as he worried his jaw, his eyes dazed as they lingered on your lips more than it was approved by.

" I am talking about.. about my defending you but I swear I wasn't trying to be hero or some knight in shining armour, i just wanted to be there like you were always for me." He inhaled sharply, you were knocked out of your breath as you tried to breathe and speak and failing in both.

" I know..I know I have embarassed you deeply and i am so sorry, i am—"

" Benedict shut up." You yanked your hand away from his grip, breathing harder as he watched grimly, not making a sound.

" That..." You bited your lip, " I'm..." Your heart was beating too fast and your cheeks deepened in colour as you turned to him.

" Hot." You said finally, gripping your night gown as your knuckles went white, all blood rushing to your face and places too holy.

" You're hot ? " Benedict tried but a grin tiptoed it's way and it was so beautiful across his face that you wanted to feel it against your own lips. Shut up !

" What you did for me Benedict...it was...it was the hottest thing you ever did...you were..oh my god...you were on fire." You closed your eyes, feeling yourself vibrate throughout your body with just his heavy gaze.

" I thought," he recovered his slackened jaw, smiling like a star,", i embarassed you."

" You could never ! " You shaked your head, taking a step, not much, it was enough.

" And the time I called you a duckling? " He laughed, sound rich and melodic and that's how you loved him the most, free and feral.

" Well you could be an idiot sometimes." You chuckled softly, taking a deep breath as Benedict outstretched his hand.

" I know, I know...I am such an idiot and that's why I need you, I want you by my side." He said earnestly, you took his hand as he pulled you closer.

" This...it has been a torment all this time." He whispered it lowly, voice heavy as he kissed each word on your knuckles, your brain was dead in it's wake.

" Benedict." You exhaled, this would ruin you, there would be no coming back.

" I watched you leave and i...I thought what would become of me and there was only one answer—nothing, there's no me without you. I can't imagine a life where it's not us." He brought your palm closer to his lips, pressing them softly, inking each syllable.

" Benedict." You shaked your head because you would do something very stupid if he didn't stop, Benedict stood up, his knees buckling and making an odd sound.

" So you must know, it can't wait anymore because I can't keep it in, it's killing me." Oh how much it was killing you, little did he know, You felt the moment stop when he leaned down, his breath heavy on your cheek as his eyes darted to you.

" You're my best friend." He said, and you knew what it was, he is in love.

Then he kissed you, soft warm lips against yours and it was only a moment before he pulled away.

" I am sorry...fuck—"

" Don't ever apologise for that ! " You pulled him by his collar, crashing your lips again like waves meeting the shore, it was like your soul was crawling out for Benedict and nothing else mattered.

A moan escaped his mouth and your whole body shuddered at the sound he was making, those sound that drowned in your own mouth as your devoured him, you felt him grinning against you and oh you could die, In silent screams and even in your wildest dreams, you never dreamt of this.

Breathless, you spared a moment and he looked so beautiful with his swollen kissed lips beaming up with your saliva. Your.

" I... Benedict...more." your cheeks blazed, you were damn sure your ears were red because Benedict looked like he was about to die, his grin splitting his whole face in half.

" This..it was perfect ! " He said, dipping down to kiss your cheek, you thought he would pull away but he then rested his forehead against yours, your breathing leveling with his in synchronise. It felt real, all of it.

He pulled you by your waist, nose bumping in yours.

" I want to give you everything..." He breathed, " everything that you want."

" I want it Benedict." You were only half aware of the thing you wanted from him, perhaps to entwine your souls together, you weren't sure but this torment was too much.

His thumb caressed your lips and then your jaw, making stars and circles as he whispered in a amused little voice.

" We must wait—" you kissed him, hard on his mouth and you were sure someone's tooth was chipped but it melted the pain as soon as his mouth parted for you, his tongue swiping across your lower lip like a Eden's feather.

You were holding his face like it was your life support and he was too holding you back like you were his most precious treasure, his hands were slowly progressing up your thigh, your night gown sliding up. He stopped, you stopped tugging at his hair and felt him whine against your mouth, nipping in response. You guided his hand to your slick as oil womanhood, he gasped against you.

His eyes were shining brighter than every star that hanged high.

" Oh." His fingers touched you and you thought you would die just there, moaning like you never had.

" You are...you are wet." He said, his cheeks deepening in heat and colour, his smile becoming a grin as your eyes dazed.

" Fuck ! " You moaned, arching back when he swiped his one long finger against you, Benedict moaned just the same.

" Oh lord...oh lord..oh fucking lord." Benedict groaned, you were sure he smiled wickedly before his finger penetrated inside you.

The coil in your stomach lurched and something heavy dropped inside you.

" It might..it might.. might hurt." Benedict dropped his head to the crook of your neck, kissing once before he set his eyes on you.

You winced as one finger became two, pulsing inside you, your soul was no longer inside you and it was as if you were floating.

" Ben...oh—" you almost cried, your eyes tearing up when his pace increased and he was panting and shaking, his eyes widening when you came with a sharp cry, thighs shaking and turning to jelly as Benedict watched dazedly.

" Fuck i ruined..I ruined — " you looked as Benedict withdrew his fingers covered in silvery thick juices.

" Shhh... " He cooed, smiling as he brought his fingers to his mouth, you gawked as he wickedly sucked them in, humming at the sweetness. " You were beautiful."

" Can we..can we go inside ? " You were being nasty, you knew but what you wouldn't give to see Benedict, whole of him, raw and naked.

" I...I would love to but in order to keep your virtue intact—

" Shut up ! " You groaned, taking his hand.

" Anthony will kill me." He shrugged, entwinng your fingers together and they moulded like they were made for each other.

" I will kill you." You said, he smiled like the devil he was.

-

You can feel it on your way home...

" Hey." You laughed when he pinned you against your father's study, kissing you deeply, " shhh..." He smiled, lowering his head to your cleavage, licking it, placing open mouthed kisses all along.

" My father's on hunt, he will come tommorow" You whispered, the servants were the only concern and honestly, there was hardly any concern.

" Good, tommorow i am talking to you father." He smiled up at you, kissing your flesh and you mouthed all prayers you knew.

" Wh..y ? " You said, Benedict hoisted you up, his hands underneath your thigh as he carried you up, missing the third step because he knew, he has been here.

" To marry you my little kangaroo." He laughed when you deadpanned at him.

" Call me that vile thing again and I will say no." You hid your face in his neck, smiling.

" Well since you're smiling—ow"

" Not smiling! " You nipped at his skin, salty and just like Benedict, it was like a dream come true, to kiss him, to love him, to have him.

" What should I call you then cupcake ? " He pushed open the door, lowering you gently down on the couch as he backed away.

" Cupcake ? " You offered, he mouthed a 'sweet' before he removed his waist coat.

" Oh lord..." You gasped as one by one Benedict began to discard his clothes, his skin gleaming with sweat and beauty, he was like the one poets wrote poems about, he was artist but he was art in himself, dazzling and ever so mesmerising.

" C'mon, don't act like you're unimpressed." He wiggled his eyebrow, teasing as he started to work on his breeches, you felt warmth tingling throughout you, you demanded touch because you were starving.

" You're like a poetry." You said, it was more of a breath but he heard it anyway, stopping as held the last bits of dignity together.

" You have called me poetry earlier too."

" Byron's poetry."

" But poetry indeed." He dropped the last clothing, naked and bare in front of you and like every bit about him, he was beautiful.

" My snowman..." You couldn't hold back the grin, Benedict was all macho and bravado but it crumbled when he strided towards you, he so wanted you to like him, every bit of him, whole of him and you did, with your whole heart you would love this man, forevermore.

" Yours." He mouthed, coming over you, his fingers undoing your nightgown and it was revealed that Benedict was rather good with buttons.

He sensed the way your body shivered at his touch, his fingers examining the work he did there with his mouth, he looked at you, you nodded, your night gown slipped down.

" Oh my...you have been hiding this from me ?! From an artist ?! " He sniffed down your body, placing tender kisses all over.

" Really ? I don't know...never thought I was much of bea—" Benedict shut you up with a kiss.

" You're the most gorgeous person I ever met and-" he kissed you again, " my sweet little kangaroo, so please." He shaked his head.

His length twitched on your thigh and you dare not look down.

" It's okay." He said, " all yours." He added with a wink, you glanced at his hardened leaking length, red angry at its head.

A desire in you swirled, to touch it, to hold it, to claim it, you brought your hand before Benedict pulled away, scaring you.

" I am sorry, I am sorry." You threw your hands back, Benedict opened his mouth abruptly.

" Oh no, i would let you fence with it later but right now I really really want to make it good for you."

" Right...I don't know what it meant but..that fencing part Benedict?! " You giggled, Benedict laughed, placing himself between your legs.

" It...it might hurt babe." He said, you stopped giggling.

" Not much." He assured, placing a kiss on your stomach, you so needed to be filled by him, his slender fingers could make you see heaven, you were dying to think where his thickness would take you. He was going to split you, you were going to very much enjoy it.

" Are you sure.. because..we can just do any other time...like wait for marriage, " you made a face, " not that I am not interested...you have no idea how much I am dying to see you scream my name."

" Benedict." You teased, putting all your seduction in it, Benedict eye rolled fondly.

" Oh Benedict! " You said it louder, Benedict eyes were blazing, the vein on his neck was throbbing like worm set free.

" You have no idea what you have done." He practically growled, taking your hand as his tip teased your entrance, you really didn't.

Your heart stopped when only his tip pushed through your folds, your resistance at it's peak, a beak of sweat tricked down your cleavage, Benedict closed his eyes, muttering something.

" Fuck..fuck you're so tight." He hastily said, his length pressing inside, you looked at how he was only half inside but you were already panting and moaning like a whore.

" Oh fuck ! " You screamed as he pushed all at once inside you, his hips smacking against yours making an obscene noise.

" I am gonna make you see stars." He said, his voice shaky but determination was dripping as he slowly thursted, once—your head threw back, twice—you were no longer bounded in body and space, thrice—your eyes closed and it was just stars and cosmic rays, you lost count and control as Benedict set his pace in a feral way, he was pushing inside you like beast set free, his hips rolled and slammed down at you with an alarming rate, they left a burning pain before he striked again.

" Benedict ! " You were screaming, your breasts rolling up and down and he watched devilishly, penetrating into your hole, plunging inside, your jaw slackened like his, his drool dripped down as he was lost somewhere, in his own daze.

He pounded inside you, his breath caught in his throat and his face red, you only half registered when he lowered his whole body, his mouth inches away from you and his thursted one final hard one.

" Oh my god ! " He bited his lips, his knees buckling as his cry sharpened, you felt the insides of your swirl with warmness, arching back, mouth agape with moans he brought out of you, the coil inside your stomach loosened as you came, body going limp. It was the second time you felt mere smoke in existence, everything dizzied while you short circuited.

You opened your eyes to look at him, your devil, your snowman, he was panting, his hair plastered to his forehead, his smile dazed.

" Was it good? " He nuzzled his nose in the crook of your neck, you were aware of his juices mixing with yours inside you and it made your nipples hard, just by thinking.

" Ama..zing." you kissed his forehead, his limp cock still inside you, you liked how full it made you feel, like complete.

" I was thinking about a snowman waltzing." He laughed lowly, it's sound buzzing inside your skin, you didn't get why.

" Why ? "

" Umm...to last longer because.. because I would have come just by the way you looked at me."

" I was looking like a perv ?! " You huffed, he glanced up, his mouth easing your hardened nipple, speaking around it.

" Oh yes, like you couldn't get enough of me, you have compromised me, now you must marry me to keep my virtue entact." He sucked back again, you chuckled, feeling the corner of your eyes glistented with tears.

It was several moments gone, his head on your chest as you scatched his scalp, untangling his hair and occasionally pulling him for a kiss, he was still inside you, coaxing inside your warmness, relishing.

" Benedict." You whispered, not bothering if he had slept already.

" Huh." He mumbled softly, heavy with sleep.

" You're my best friend." you knew what it was, you are in love.

[tossawary]

You know, given all of the cloning and other evil experiments that Palpatine apparently had going on, it's a little remarkable in hindsight that he never targeted Shmi Skywalker personally.

Like, this woman apparently reproduced asexually and gave birth to one of the most powerful Force-sensitives of all time; I don't generally characterize Sith Lords as having great scientific curiosity or a sense of wonder for the universe (or bothering to remember "little" people exist most of the time), because their whole deal kind of precludes that, but it seems reasonable that one might conclude that there's potential power in investigating this.

If Anakin was friendly with Palpatine for the latter half of his childhood, it seems like it could have been relatively easy for Palpatine to learn things like 1) Anakin's midichlorian count (which he can use to tell Anakin that everyone else is just jealous of his power) and 2) Shmi's situation on Tatooine (which he can use to foster resentment between Anakin and the Jedi Order for not helping Shmi too). Just get Anakin a little frustrated and he'll probably start talking! Palpatine could make some concerned offer to send someone to check on Anakin's mother - it is the least that Naboo can do for the family that helped to save them, the Chancellor might say, but he would prefer that such favoritism remain a secret between them - and then Sidious would have Watto's exact address no problem.

And it's not like it would be hard to kidnap Shmi. Palpatine (as Sidious?) could pick some random bounty hunter and order them to go buy her, because this amount of money is presumably pocket change to him, and if Watto resists selling her off to a stranger, the bounty hunter can claim that they've come on behalf of her son. And if that doesn't work or if Shmi is already with the Lars family, there's always violence. Palpatine can just lie to Anakin and say that his agent discovered Shmi was targeted by enemies of the Jedi Order. Oh, what a shame they didn't protect her!

I don't know what would happen from here. Sidious could potentially contract the Kaminoans as a private, anonymous citizen to research Shmi and see if she'll be useful to him at all; the Kaminoans seem to be in the business of designer babies for specific clients (Jango + my vague memories of some "Clone Wars" comic). Which means that Shmi could be unhappily, awkwardly hanging around Kamino, probably still enslaved, when Jango Fett and the clones business is going on. For years, potentially.

Ideally for the Sith, the Kaminoans would be keeping Shmi in an entirely separate facility most of the time, away from the army intended for the Jedi and the Republic. But Jango might be sent around the planet on errands or something and the Kaminoans might need to use very specific equipment at some points, and I am a fan of grand plans being ruined by chance encounters or workplace logistics, so I think it would be fun if Shmi met Jango or Boba. Maybe Palpatine assumed that the Kaminoans had already disposed of Shmi or were keeping her on ice, due to a badly worded email or something else mundane, because the Kaminoan forgot the right Basic word (it's not their first language!!! or a translator malfunctioned or something) during their space phone call.

There's lots of Canon Divergence directions for this, like more serious angst or drama or thriller horror being imprisoned by a Sith Lord (somewhere besides Kamino) or discovering what's being done to the clones. Shmi could end up being rescued by Jedi and helping uncover Sidious. Or she could have a different tragic ending.

(This whole post regarding Shmi and cloning is partially inspired by that one post pointing out that Rey looks a lot like Shmi, and given the strange circumstances of Anakin's birth, any attempt to clone Anakin might have created a clone of Shmi instead. I still think a "Rey as Anakin's clone" is a fun sequel trilogy AU.)

I'm leaning towards fix-it and comedies of errors ideas because the prequels are tragic enough for me. Currently, I'm thinking about Shmi eventually ending up as part of young Boba Fett's gang somehow, because it's amusing to me that he was somehow a recurring antagonistic figure on that TCW show despite being a child. The other bounty hunters are like, "Kid, did you... bring your mom on this mission...?" And Boba Fett is like, "No!!! She's my ship mechanic!!! But if you touch her, just so you know, I will fucking kill you."

I think that both Anakin and Boba would fucking hate being adoptive brothers in any way, shape, or form. And the idea of Luke and Leia someday having an "Uncle Boba Fett" is also very funny to me.

(EDIT: I'm currently dubious regarding a Jango/Shmi ship because Jango does participate in the creation and enslavement of the clone army. Like, it's the Kaminoans who do it, they hold most of the blame and they would have gotten someone else if Jango hadn't done it, but Jango is very much there and at the very least complicit in a horrifying series of crimes against millions of people. Depending on how you characterize Shmi Skywalker, an enslaved woman, I don't really think she'd be cool with that. She let her child go off to become a Jedi because she thought it would be a much better life for him, while Jango sold his own "children" off into war for money. So, I'm currently thinking that Shmi might like the innocent child Boba, but she might honestly dislike Jango quite a lot.)

[epicfroggz]

Age of Shadow

(This is a fan-made Messmer questline and ending, not based on cut content or anything of the sort. Source is: I made it up. Thanks to @purpupa for helping with some of the items, inspiring me, and listening to my crazed ramblings at the midnight hours. Very long post ahead, enjoy!)

After his fight, particularly after the Hornsent has left his arena, you will be able to locate Messmer at the entrance to the keep’s infirmary, near the West Rampart site of grace. He will be standing in thought before these three chairs:

Messmer has donned a cloak made of Shadow and patched himself up using black gauze (see drawing above). When prompted, he says:

“Hello, Tarnished. There art three chairs here, but none fit me. That seemeth an oversight, does it not?”

Messmer does not turn to face you when he speaks. When prompted again, he says:

“… Thou hast not walked away yet. Doth thee needeth something?”

>Ask how he is alive

pleasantly “Serpents art exceedingly difficult to kill. Believe me, I have tried. Is that all?”

>Ask why he is not attacking

“I had underestimated thee, Tarnished. Thee hast strength befitting a lord. I shouldst not have doubted my mother.” pause “The serpent didst not expect a lightless creature like itself to be elevated to such a standing. It appears things hath changed in mine absence. I have much to learn.”

>leaving dialogue

“Tarnished, I have a request, if thou’rt up for it. I hath misplaced some notes of mine, a recipe for a particular physick. If thee bringeth it to me, thee shalt be rewarded. Farewell, for now.”

The key item Messmer’s Notes can be found in the Specimen Storehouse, near the Storehouse, Loft site of grace. It requires climbing up the catwalks and dropping down to an area with bookshelves.

Messmer’s Notes - Barely legible cursive scrawl written by Messmer the Impaler. Details a recipe for a medicine once derived from one of his mother’s blessings. It appears to be based off a childhood memory, with a few added ingredients “for taste”.

When you return to the infirmary, Messmer will be kneeling in the “O, Mother” gesture before a shrine to Marika that he has set up, the three chairs neatly pushed out of the way. When prompted, he retracts his hands, and says:

“Hello again, Tarnished. Didst thee findeth the recipe?”

You may then give him Messmer’s Notes. Alternatively, you may choose to give him a Blessing of Marika if there is one in your inventory.

>Offer Messmer’s notes

“Oh! I thank thee. Here, thy compensation.” gives you a Rune of an Unsung Hero

>Offer Blessing of Marika

“Oh, this is… Where didst thee get this? Nay, ‘tis not my place to ask. My sincerest gratitude, Tarnished.” gives you a Marika’s Rune

You may now ask Messmer more questions:

>Ask about the jarfolk

“Ah. What remains of my mother’s people. I hath tried desperately, for aeons it seemeth, to ease their suffering, yet… At what point is keeping a patient alive no longer in the interest of their wellbeing? At what point does it becometh insanity?“ shakily “I still feeleth as though I hast failed them…”

The second question only unlocks after you have defeated both Rellana and Gaius. If you have not, when you leave and travel back to the West Rampart site of grace, you will be greeted by the sound of Messmer weeping. Walking within ten feet of him or breaking objects in the room will cause him to stop. When prompted, he says:

trying to sound intimidating but holding back tears “Begone, Tarnished.” shakily “Messmer does not wish to speak to thee at this moment…”

Leaving and traveling back to the West Rampart site of grace will let you choose the second question:

>About your friends…

“I knoweth, Tarnished. They were in thy way, were they not? Rellana, and Gaius… I shall grant them a hero’s burial. May they returneth to the Erdtree yet, even if that is a vain hope in this land.” quietly “My friends, forgive me… For I have availed you nothing…”

>leaving dialogue

“Tarnished, thee can travel to the Lands Between, can thee not? I have another request for thee.”

A cutscene plays wherein Messmer carefully pulls a snake from his eye socket. During it, he says: “After shedding the seal, I recalled abilities lost to me. Some wonderful, some terrible, some… Gah! Hah… For thee, Tarnished. On thy travels, I bid thee well.”

Thus he will grant you this key item:

Juvenile Serpent - One of the base serpent’s progeny, pulled from the eye of Messmer the Impaler. Writhes around often. Stares longingly at the world, or perhaps stares hungrily at you. Who can tell? “Do take care of it, wilt thee?”

After reluctantly accepting the serpent, when you travel back to any grace in the Lands Between that Melina can spawn at, there will be a new option to Speak to Melina. She will say:

“What in the world is that creature you travel with? It seems to like me… You are exceedingly warm, little snake.” pause “It appears hungry. I can feed it some runes, if you would like?”

>Accept (-100 runes)

“Snakes are said to be traitors to the Erdtree, but we too are walking the path of heresy. Let’s get you fed, little one… There. Do tell, where did you find it?” pause “A long lost demigod pulled it out of his eye? Have you been afflicted with madness? No, you are entirely sincere. Huh. Well, it seems harmless enough.”

The serpent must be fed one more time to continue the quest. Speak to Melina at any grace and she will say:

“Hello. The little one hungers once again. Would you like to offer some runes?”

>Accept (-100 runes)

“I am surprised at its good nature, though I have witnessed it spit a red flame when angered. It is impossible not to question what sort of demigod it came from…”

An interaction occurs wherein Messmer materializes in a shadowy haze—not unlike the spirit fog through which Melina appears to you. He introduces himself: “Ah, so it was thee feeding the wee serpent? I knew it smelled like kin… I am Messmer, and thee?”

dumbfounded “Melina?”

“I see. Melina. Sister of mine, I knoweth of the kindling that smolders within thee.” he summons a small flame in his hand to show her “There is no need to burn thy self again. The Tarnished and I shall see it through.”

After this, the description of the Juvenile Serpent item updates:

Juvenile Serpent - One of the base serpent’s progeny, pulled from the eye of Messmer the Impaler. Prefers the company of the kindling maiden, as her touch feels like home. It will not bite the hand that feeds it. Serves as an anchor between the Lands Between and the veiled Land of Shadow.

(Optional) Taking the serpent in this state to the Church of Vows site of grace allows you to choose the new option, Speak to Messmer, which will summon him in shadowy spirit:

“Thou hast met Miriel? We became acquainted when Rellana once brought me here… ‘Tis a burning memory now, but the pastor is a wise beast indeed.” he looks to the sky “‘Heresy is not native to the world. All things can be conjoined’. We have forgotten that. We have forgotten ourselves, what we held most dear. To repair shattered Gold, I must layeth bare the ugliest truths of this world, those which I have been the bearer of for so long—I must mend it with Shadow. For there is no light that exists without the dark.”

Taking the serpent to the Forge of the Giants site of grace allows you to choose Speak to Messmer:

“Thou hast done well to come this far, Tarnished. Long have the prophets uttered of this moment. ‘Tis not lightly I choose to fulfill it, but… I wouldst prefer to give my men the option to return home, if nothing else. Art thou prepared to commit a cardinal sin, with me?”

>Accept

A cutscene plays, in which the Erdtree and Scadutree are burned at once in Messmer’s flame. Messmer speaks:

“Tarnished, hold my kindling aloft. From here, I shall do my part… O, Erdtree, and Scadutree both, ye shall burn together. For the sake of the new Lord, and a new world, mended.”

You continue your journey to Farum Azula and then back to Leyndell, Capital of Ash. Sir Gideon Ofnir will have access to the incantation “Messmer’s Orb” in his fight (why wasn’t this a thing already???). At the Queen’s Bedchamber site of grace, you must choose to Speak to Messmer one last time:

“Ah… Thou art close. Within the Erdtree, I intend to confront my mother. If it be true she has become infirm, and lost all sense of self… Then I shalt taketh her place. The Two Fingers rejected me long ago, but I am yet capable. If it cometh to this, will thee be my Lord?”

>Accept

“I thank thee. We have come a long way, Tarnished.” small laugh “When it cometh to thee, I find I have no regrets. Take this, and when the bell tolls, summon me forth. To stand before my mother once again.”

Thus you will be granted this key item:

Mending Rune of the Abyssal Prince - Mending rune gestated by Messmer the Impaler. Used to restore the fractured Elden Ring when brandished by the Elden Lord. Formed of a swirling mass of serpents, and the base serpent biting its own tail. It will embed a Shadow lost back into the Golden Order, restoring balance. The “base” in the base serpent’s name refers both to its nature and the place it once belonged, at the roots of the Erdtree where light does not reach.

After defeating Radagon and Elden Beast, you will have the option to summon Messmer from a shadowy summon sign on the ground, giving this final cutscene:

“‘Those who walk alongside flame shall one day meet the road of Destined Death’… Yet, it seemeth my road hast led me back to thee.”

“Mother… Thee may rest now. I shall put thee, and this world, back together again…”

Messmer gently gives Marika’s head to you, and you place it upon her body, the Elden Ring becoming mended with the abyssal rune. The scene lingers on her as the shadows in the background deepen, and as a squelching sound grows in volume, soon thunderous. From the darkness suddenly emerges the abyssal serpent to swallow her whole, its red eyes burning against the dark:

The scene cuts to black.

Messmer narrates the final scene, showcasing the now physical Erdtree grafted unto its Scadu counterpart: “The fallen leaves tell a story… Of a Tarnished who became Elden Lord... And the serpent that became a god. A god that ushered in a gentle dark, so that this shattered world may heal.

So that the light of Gold can shine ever more brilliantly, against an Age of Shadow."

[snarp]

This is the official translation of the final Remembrance:

Remembrance of Radahn, consort of Miquella, hewn into the Scadutree.

In their childhood, Miquella saw in Radahn a lord. His strength, and his kindness, that stood in stark contrast with their afflicted selves.

And so Miquella made his heartfelt wish. That Radahn would one day be his king consort.

It is very different from the Japanese text. Here's my translation:

A memory of Radahn, Miquella's king, hewn into the Scadutree.

When very young, Miquella saw in Radahn a king: saw strength - so unlike their frail selves - and, too, saw kindness.

And so, Miquella's innocent request: "Be my king, please"

("Elden Lord"/"Lord" is always "King" (王) in the Japanese text, and I'm mostly using "King" in this post: "lord" has awkward implications.)

Breaking it down:

影樹に刻まれた ミケラの王、ラダーンの追憶

A memory of Radahn, Miquella's king, hewn into the Scadutree.

"Miquella's king". Miquella always phrases Radahn's role this way: "my king," "my promised king," etc. In-setting, the characters probably do read this as a subordinate role - hence the translation "consort" - but in modern Japanese, the expected meaning is the same as in English: "the king whom Miquella serves."

I think the translators kept using "consort" to make absolutely certain everyone knows they're married, but it was overkill to use it every time: there's a reason Radahn's being referred to this way. Go back and count how many times Godfrey or Radagon is referred to as "Marika's lord."

The term for "Remembrance" is "tsuioku" (追憶), "a memory". This is explicitly Miquella's memory. The description of Radahn as "kind" isn't coming from the omniscient narrator: it's what toddler-Miquella saw, firmly in the past tense.

幼き日、ミケラはラダーンに王を見た

When very young, Miquella saw in Radahn a king:

脆弱な自分たちにはない、強さを

saw strength - so unlike their frail selves -

そして優しさを

and, too, saw kindness.

That's not a complete or grammatical sentence, and the linebreaks create the cadence of someone struggling to find words. It feels like the thought got constructed backwards, potentially because Miquella could remember the word "king," but had trouble with "strength" and "kindness".

(Which makes sense both thematically and in terms of how hard those words are to say: kindness = "yasashisa", strength = "tsuyosa", king = "oh".)

だからミケラは純真に願った

And so, Miquella's innocent request:

私の王に、なってください

"Be my king, please"

The "innocently" is "junshin ni" (純真に), which carries a strong implication of naivety that "heartfelt" does not.

The comma in the middle of the quote isn't grammatical, but rather an indicator of hesitation. Miquella said this aloud to Radahn while too young to understand what it meant. Maybe even what "king" meant, aside from "dad".

And it's not phrased as a question; given Miquella's status as an Empyrean, it could even be interpreted as an order. And if this happened in front of witnesses, and if Radahn - possibly already an ambitious adult - said "sure, when you're grown up"...?

This is a horror story, and the kid is not the monster.

[s-4pphics]

moth. teaser. (e.w.)

SYNOPSIS: knights of the devil, you all are to be conquered. 

WORD COUNT: 881 

WARNINGS: vampire!ellie, vampirekiller!oc, a lot to come FUCK, violence… so blood(drinking), death, murder, gore, religion briefly,

A/N: yasss yaaas taglist?

prolouge

1809

“Oh, my precious darling…” 

Red, similar to her hair; palms painted from the tips of a finger to the points of elbows; knees sunk into begrimed pili drenched with fresh maroon. Panicked breaths are accompanied by prayers, wishes of denial. Desires for death. 

“… What I would give to protect you…” 

“F-F—“

Tortured hollers are directed towards the pouring skies. Bodies. Bodies everywhere; surrounded by decay. 

She sobs, deep from the pits of her stomach, “Father, for-forgive them! For they do not—“

Thunder claps. Lightning is being used as weapons from the Lord above, all meant to discover her and strike. The beams in the sky are intended to punish her discernment. It was a mistake. It was a mistake! Her eyes refuse to meet the battered corpse of the young babe, no more than three. Her crime was committed in a haze, blinded by starvation, all at the cost of the family before her. Villagers would deem the view a savage attack. A mutilation only made possible by the ravenous wolves after dark. The bears that protect the trees at dusk.

All on horseback, the strangers paused their ventures to inquire guidance. She swiftly became an aid for navigating the path, instructing them with a trembling finger and a blistering throat. Follow that trail to the end of the woods. Unbeknownst to their gracious eyes, she followed. Stalked after their mount for miles like the thoroughbred they ride, carried by the wind. Urged by bloodlust. 

Her vision blurred when they tied their horse’s lariats to a nearby post that barely passed the trees. Her vision was shrouded in darkness, a substance so thick that her limbs felt trapped, even in frantic movement. They’d reached the end, just like she’d promised. 

Their screams satiated her hunger, but never hindered her guilt. 

Demons, I tell you! All of them, demons! Witches destined to be set aflame for the masses! 

And now she crouches over them with remorse in her chest. Remorse that will wash away her like the rainfall that pounds on her shoulders. Much like it had in the past when her purity was stolen. Another fatality. 

1919

“Hunting requires bouts of unwavering dedication. If the entirety of your being doesn’t relish in the suffering of the demons walking, then you are to be shunned.”

Being the youngest hunter-to-be amongst legends, historical monuments that leave trails of prosperous victories wherever they advance, is humbling. Your mother pestered you for as long as you could remember: never, never become a hunter, being her only protest for you, her only child. She used to pray beside your bed at night when she assumed you to be asleep, praising the Creator for forbidding you sickness or poverty. You were her only treasure, a gift from the frosted heavens. 

And the demons took her. 

Hunters searched the unoccupied lands that surrounded your home relentlessly, but no traces of the Devils’ were ever discovered. They attended your mother’s burial for your protection, and prepared to assist your transition into the orphanage, but you denied. You were permanently vexed. Forever vengeful. 

I wish to become a hunter! 

Your recruitment was immediate due to the shortage of volunteers, and that same day, you witnessed all of the treasures and memories of your childhood home — of your mother — get burned to the ground by the Hunters. No trails for the demons should go untouched by fire. 

“If you hesitate for even a second, you’re dead. Either by their hand…” 

Something unsettled you that morning as you prepared for school. Something in the air, something underground. A heaviness in your home that you couldn’t trace. Your mother ironed your skirt and pinned your hair up, brushed down the small curls around your hairline, and she eased you. The weather is changing, dear, she’d said before wishing you well. You studied relentlessly, all while she was shredded by teeth sharp as knives. You want the Devil’s lifeless heart in the palm of your hand, risks be damned.

“Or mine. And I will not hesitate.” 

The overseer of your battalion, who slowly paces before his future prodigies, aura menacing, pauses in front of you. With your gaze locked forward and a lump in your throat, you gawk right on the crescent on his belt — the hunter’s insignia — your feet shuffle, shoes slightly squeaking above the wood. 

“Are you prepared, child?” 

His tone is disparaging, and you swallow. Your head bobs and your breathing stutters. 

“Yes, sir.” 

He crouches before you and your cells stiffen, elbows perched on his knees, eyes finally level with yours. You appear stoic due to the grinding of your teeth, inspecting the stitched scar that sprouts at his right brow and crosses his eye.

“You are nothing,” He hisses, and your heart clenches, “You are not a child, and I am not your elder. Any identity you held prior to your arrival is worthless, now. We are vessels for the greatest power above. Hunter is your only name, do you understand?” 

No verbiage escapes you. It couldn’t with how your breath trembles, so you nod once; Quite mechanic. 

“Stand straight.” 

His conviction forces your shoulders into alignment, and snickers from the older prodigies erupt from behind you. Your cheeks warm and your palms drip. The overseer rises to his feet once more.

“That goes for all of you!” He shouts, and the room is quiet.

The crescent sparkles under the yellow candlelight. Your palms grow clammy at his viperous swear. 

“I will not hesitate.” 

[as-the-crows-feather-falls]

Jayvik headcanons :)))))

Jayce:

* Oh my god where to even start with this guy

* He’s ridiculously ticklish. Like, everywhere. It’s insane. But I’d say his worst spots are: under his arms, his stomach, and his hips. But again, get him anywhere and you’re golden he’ll laugh either way. If you wanna get him to shriek though he has this one spot on the back of his ribs that will make him go absolutely insane

* Due to his status as “The Man of Progress” or whatever, not to mention this guy has the build of a brick wall, most wouldn’t suspect this, let alone test this

* Two words. Caitlyn. Kiramman. Jayce would tickle the shit out of her when she was younger, but since she has gotten stronger as she grew up, she has become a formidable adversary with a lust for revenge

* These two have tickle fights almost every time they hang out. I feel Jayce would initiate them most of the time, flicking her like in “Happy Progress Day” or teasing her or poking her. He just loves to annoy her and it bites him in the ass every. Damn. Time.

* Now back to the Jayvik stuff I fear I got carried away with Jayce being a goofball lmao

* Oh my god I can hear his laugh. When there’s intentional tickling going down, there is zero buildup. None. Zip. No giggles, no chuckles, no nothing. His laugh immediately goes from laughing to cackling when he’s tickled

* His laugh is so bold and bright and unapologetic, the only time it really goes quieter is if he starts wheezing, which he will if gotten good enough

* I WILL DIE ON THIS HILL: GIGGLE-DRUNK JAYCE. Jayce gets giggle-drunk obscenely easily. He’ll just sit there limp and giggle out any leftover laughter, and he’ll rest a hand over his eyes so only his smile is visible

* He literally loves tickle-fights. Again, he used to initiate them with Caitlyn all the time.

* He is AMAZING at teasing. He doesn’t do baby talk or anything like that, he’s just a yapper. Like he talks almost the entire time he’s tickling

* “Oooohohoho my god, what was that?” “Is something funny?” “Are you gonna take a break now? Huh?” “I’m sorry, I couldn’t hear you over your giggles, wanna try again?” He’s also not above calling someone “Giggles.”

* His raspberries are fucking brutal. It’s like a mortal combat finisher he’s mastered them

* Depending on who he’s tickling and the overall vibe, he’s not against going “tickletickletickletickletickle” really quick and clawing at sensitive spots. He mostly uses this against Caitlyn lmao

* He’s just such a goofball I love him

Viktor:

* Let’s just say he’s lucky he has that brace on. He doesn’t know this, but that is the only thing between him and certain death if Jayce were to find out his worst spot was under there

* Speaking of which, his worst spots are definitely his ribs, stomach, and knees, with his hips not far behind. Again, thank the lord for that brace or he’d be screwed, his ribs are a death spot for him

* His ears and neck are giggle spots for him. One night Jayce was feeling goofy, bored of twirling the quill in his fingers, and brushed Viktor’s ear with it just to be a shit. Viktor immediately broke into a giggly smile, bringing his shoulder up to protect himself. That’s one of Jayce’s favorite memories with Viktor, even if he did smack Jayce with a notebook afterwards

* His palms, the inside of his forearm, and his spine are an odd level of ticklishness where he’ll be on the cusp of a giggle fit and falling asleep. Like he doesn’t know if he loves it or hates it because it drives him up a damn wall

* He hasn’t been tickled since his early childhood in the fissures. Jayce put an end to that real quick.

* His laugh is kind of the opposite of Jayce’s (I’m gonna take that “two sides of the same cog” imagery to my grave they make me so ill). Viktor’s laugh is kind of wheezy and raspy, and he’ll cover his mouth with his hand. When you get him well enough, his laugh will rise in pitch and he’ll take his hand away from his face to protect himself from his attacker, and that’s when you can see his bright smile. If they had Polaroids, Jayce would want to take a picture of that smile and carry it with him forever. He loves it so much

* HOWEVER If you catch him by surprise, or if you get him just right, his laugh is super bright and kinda loud, but still a little raspy. Just a really pure and happy sound

* His teases are just sarcasm mixed with faux-scientific questions

* “Remind me again, how many ribs are in the human body?” “How on earth do you get anything done when you’re this sensitive?”

* One wouldn’t expect it, but he is JUST as silly as Jayce, it just takes a little more to get him there

* I love the idea that Jayce kinda brings out the kid in Viktor, not just with tickling but overall. I mean, he had to sneak into the academy and prove himself time and time again to get to be Prof Heimerdingers assistant (canon I’m pretty sure) and then Jayce “Crank it!” Talis come along. He kinda teaches Viktor how to be silly again

Both:

* Tickle fights are not uncommon at ungodly hours of the night

* No surprise, Jayce initiates them most of the time. However, their first tickle fight was actually started by Viktor!

* A very sleep deprived Jayce wouldn’t stop annoying Viktor (all in good fun of course) and Viktor finally had enough and jumped him lmao. It didn’t take long for Jayce to find his bearings and retaliate, but Viktor definitely won that one.

* They’re actually both on pretty even ground during tickle-fights. Jayce may be stronger, but he breaks easier and Viktor has more protection

* On a softer note, Jayce loves pressing kisses into the crook of Viktor’s neck when they’re cuddling just to hear him giggle

* On days where he has better mobility, Viktor can and will chase his target Jayce down if he plays his cards right. He knows just how to get Jayce backpedaling, and as soon as he hits a wall or trips up Viktor lunges forward and gets him lmao

* Unless Viktor tells him off, Jayce will always give him a fighting chance. He knows just how strong Viktor is, but he also knows his own strength as well. Viktor’s disability aside, Jayce is built like a brick shithouse and he knows it very well. He never wants to make anyone uncomfortable with something so playful, so he will always hold back on his strength.

* He’s also very intuitive when it comes to social cues in that sense, he’s always looking to see if his target isn’t having fun or if they’re uncomfortable.

* Viktor has this look that always tells Jayce if he’s fucked up. Like that look plus smoothly reaching for his cane, getting out of his chair, and strolling towards Jayce will have him immediately pleading for his life. All Viktor has to do is walk towards him and Jayce is sweating. Thats when Viktor teases the most too, asking him stuff like “What’s the matter,” or “Did I say something funny?” Their teases are similar in that end, they rub off on each other something horrible.

* One time Heimerdinger caught Jayce and Viktor mid tickle-fight while checking up on them and as they were trying to frantically pull themselves together he said “No, no, no. No worries, dear boys. I only came to check on progress, but what is the point of working the mind if there is no play to balance out the soul. Carry on, gentleman!” And left. After a moment, the two of them just kinda looked at each other and, tickles aside, just started laughing. Like they couldn’t even look at each other without immediately cackling. One of those moments when you think you’ve got all the giggles out then you look at them and it’s rib-clutching hysterics all over again. That’s a memory they both have as a favorite of theirs

[mymoshangthoughts]

oki i know we've all just chosen to accept that beatings are a part of demon mating culture and like, i dont think thats 100% wrong, but also thinking about linguang-jun's reaction to seeing shang qinghua beaten at the ascension incident, im kinda hesitant to fall into it 100%

oki my biggest defense for it being a demon-culture thing is that sha hualing didn't show any disagreement when mobei jun suggested "three beatings a day" in that particularly hilarious conversation, but that's honestly pretty thin. we know that she loves binghe and she never makes any attempt to fight him or to have him fight her. if anything, she strives to avoid it

there's also the possibility that the 'beating' that linguang-jun witnessed the conclusion of was a particularly unromantic one via demon standards. he saw shang qinghua and said "oh you were clearly displeased with him" so mayyybbee there's something to the pattern of bruises that speaks to intent but again, that's pretty thin

so might i suggest, from my humble little insane brain, that rather than beatings being a demon-culture thing, mobei jun is just fucking weird

oki bear with me oki but i rlly like this idea a lot LOL

im not even saying that mobei jun is a sadist (altho def not opposed to that), im saying that my socially awkward icy demon lord just straight up has no good concept of how to get the attention of his intended and this is sincerely his best effort. there's no research, no demon custom, no human custom, it's just mobei jun desperately screaming "look at meeeeeee pleaaassseeee" in his own extremely unique way that fucking no one understands

i would defend that this is likely due to his fucked up childhood and trust issues. like maybe linguang-jun isolated him to such an extent that mobei-jun winds up relatively divorced from his own culture for courting and doesnt even fucking know the first thing about it. maybe he has some twisted history of "look the only time i was shown affection was during martial training, which were basically beatings, so beatings = affection, yeah?" or maybe he's just so stupid and desperate that he has no fucking idea and no real plan, he's just trying to get shang qinghua's attention by any means necessary

i sort of like a mixture of all of the above. like linguang jun was the only person who showed him more typical signs of affection, and that was the prelude to betrayal. so mobei jun doesnt trust those types of affectionate gestures. but when he received martial training, either from his uncle or in one of the handful of times he'd seen his father, it was at least useful. like he can remember getting beaten and know there was an honesty to it. beating him made him stronger, being strong helped him to survive, it was the truest affection he's received in his life. and look, mobei jun hasn't exactly put all of that together all of that in as many words, but the effect is long lasting. and not all of shang qinghua's beatings were out of affection either. ultimately, there's this suspicious as fuck cultivator who's groveling at his feet and mobei-jun isnt exactly keen on humanity to begin with. and with shang qinghua prone to more typical shows of affection, the way his uncle was before the Betrayal? he's not going to be tricked again! he'll beat the human into submission to prove that he's strong and he's not a small defenseless child anymore who can be so ruthlessly abandoned! but then he really does start to develop feelings for shang qinghua and really does want his attention and qinghua simply wont look at him. sure, he'll throw out a million words of groveling and acting pathetic, but what does any of that even fucking mean?! does qinghua only see him as a king? does qinghua even see him as that or is he waiting for a chance to betray him? how can he get shang qinghua's attention? how can he keep him? and so he thinks about his only fond memories of 'affection' and starts the habit of beating qinghua lightly three times a day. it's gotta work. it totally has to work. it MUST be working, bc qinghua just told the demon emperor that acting pathetic is a way of showing affection!!! SO CLEARLY QINGHUA MUST LOOK AT HIM NOW RIGHT?!!? but their relationship just doesnt seem to be progressing and after the qinghua saves him from falling, mobei jun now has a brand new "height of being show affection" memory to cling to but its... very much the opposite of his memories of being beaten. and a whole lot better too. being caught by shang qinghua and protected in that way has his heart thudding every time he remembers it and suddenly beating qinghua has lost its appeal. how can he do something for qinghua that matches that feeling??? because now it feels poultry to offer qinghua mere beatings when those barely even seem enjoyable for qinghua anyway??? and he doesnt particularly enjoy qinghua acting pathetic for him either, even if he knows theres affection behind the gesture, and qinghua always acts extra pathetic during beatings so thats another reason to lay off. so mobei jun is in the middle of contemplating this shit and stops beating qinghua so much when suddenly its time for his ascension ceremony and he drags qinghua there with him and now qinghua is talking about leaving him and mobei jun's heart just about shatters. is it because he laid off on the beatings? is it because qinghua was always planning to betray him, the way he always feared? is it because mobei jun misread this whole thing? in front of his dead fathers door, a man who never gave much of a fuck about him, while anticipating the arrival of his horrible uncle, vulnerable and reminded of every reason he's never trusted traditional shows of intimacy and so he tells qinghua to fuck off, beats him without any affectionate intentions, and greets his uncle in heartbroken misery. but then qinghua COMES BACK WHEN HE NEEDS HIM and he apparently always hated the beatings which is a blow but also now QINGHUA IS LEAVING HIM AGAIN AND THIS IS HELL, MOBEI IS IN HELL RN.

and not to mention, he witnessed linguang-jun beating shang qinghua and suddenly, he doesnt even know why he ever thought beatings were all that affectionate either because this is horrible and he hates it and mobei jun is Not Equipped To Cope With Guilt, it's not something he's been trained in and he is not coping with ANY of this well tbh, not his uncle, not his heartbreak, and he just wants the familiarity of shang qinghua's normal pathetic behavior. something normal. something to ground him. but shang qinghua is not normal right now and he's still planning to LEAVE and mobei jun is all panic, no thoughts. and now shang qinghua is saying shit like "you only beat me cuz i was easy-going and weak" and ow? that hurts? and then shang qinghua is saying he was only ever indulging mobei jun and OW? THAT HURTS?! and mobei jun is prideful and in pain and upset so he's relying on familiar emotions. being angry. being prideful. being haughty. pretending he has any control over this situation. unsure how to act outside of their normal dynamic. unsure how to respond to this very different side of qinghua. but no matter what he says, qinghua is leaving. qinghua pinches his cheeks and insults him and calls him spoiled even when he's seen directly how his own uncle treats him and calls himself his father in front of the room where his father lies dead and yeah, it hurts when qinghua pinches his cheeks. not just the physical pain, but the knowledge that qinghua wants to hurt him. that hurts most of all and it's pathetic but mobei jun's head is swimming with the knowledge that maybe violence was never a good idea between them but what else can he do in this situation? he's completely out of his depth! so he threatens qinghua not to leave and he still LEAVES

so now he's trying to find qinghua and the entire time his mind is a complete mess of emotions because was he wrong all this time and qinghua cannot be gone, thats unacceptable, and what can he offer to make qinghua stay? how can he possibly not lose this person?? and the best he can think of is to let qinghua hurt him in return, let him get his licks in, and maybe that will help

but shang qinghua doesnt hit him when offered and qinghua seems a bit scared of him and for the first time ever that seems kinda fucking awful and mobei jun is out of his depth, but the warmth he feels when shang qinghua wont hit him is really... something. and maybe theres a lot more shows of affection he should be learning, like the feeling when someone could hit you but chooses not to. and look, he's starting from abysmal standards. and yeah, when shang qinghua suggests he cook for him that sounds weird and demeaning and mobei jun instinctively wants to turn it down

but when he thinks about how it might be a way to show affection that they both appreciate, he's really determined to see it through

anyway thats a verrrryyyyy long over-explanation as to why i dont think the beatings are demon culture, i think mobei jun is just a terminally awkward traumatized weirdo who doesnt know how to communicate

[panda-writes-kpop]

your home is the sea, my home is you ~ pirate! giselle

a/n: after almost seven months (good LORD), we have a third pirate aespa fic!!! and everyone cheered!!! this may be one of my favorite works of the year, there's something so tender and sincere in this fic that I can't quite put my finger on. anyways, gonna go watch Hugh Jackman edits on repeat until I get more fic ideas! 🫶

tw: mentions of robbery, violence, and other crimes associated with being a pirate, a LOT of swearing, the faintest hint of winselle, it's not angst but it gets sad at times???

summary: Your idea for your latest novel has you ruminating on your previous relationship with the woman who haunts your dreams, Giselle. Giselle's longing for a missing piece of her heart leads her to your front doorstep. She just has to hope that you won't close your heart to her, just as she did to you years ago.

♡ Masterlist ♡

A cool ocean breeze wraps around her neck as the chill of the night starts to seep into her bones. Every part of her is screaming to run, to go far away from the things that scare her.

But what is life without a little bit of adventure?

You watch the pendulum in your grandfather clock swing forward as the next words flow easily onto the paper.

She wanted to experience the adventure of the ocean, to let her heart travel with the ocean waves that beckoned her forward. But what was she to do? Abandon her family? Leave the familiarity of her hometown behind?

Leave them behind? The one person who supported them through thick and thin?

The pendulum swings back as you stare at the candlelight in your bedroom.

Rosella had a choice to make, one that would decide her entire destiny. A friend, or a lifetime of fulfillment?

Their call was strong, but the ocean’s was stronger. 

~

With one hand on your naval revolver and the other on your bag, your feet hit the ground with increasing frequency as you run towards the docks. You had a deadline to meet with your time and your writing. The traveling night market was in town tonight, and within their merry caravan of travelers was your editor. A shrewd old woman with a sharp tongue who had been your mentor since you had abandoned your studies to pursue writing as a career.

I would’ve stayed if Giselle stayed.

You shake your head at the thought of your childhood best friend - you were nothing but a fleeting nostalgic memory to her, so she should be the same to you.

The book, the market - I have to hurry.

Unfortunately, the night market only accepted incoming foot traffic until midnight, and according to your grandfather clock, it was a centimeter past eleven-fifty. Your home was ten minutes away from the docks - you’d be cutting it close if you were simply walking.

~

“You’re early.” The guard jokes as you pull out the business card that Merrin, your editor, gave to you. “She still edits your books?”

“As long as I keep writing them.” You fold your arms as the guard stares at the card. “Can I go in?”

“Try to make it quick - she’s in one of those moods again.” 

You pluck the card from their hand before waving at them.

“She’s always in a mood, but I have to hope that it’s a good one.”

You greet the various merchants and regulars that pass by you - most of them are familiar with your work, even if you use a moniker instead of your real name. It isn’t hard to deduce who the newest novelist on the block is when you know their publisher by name.

“When’s the new novel coming?” One shouts at you as you chuckle to yourself. “The last one really pulled on my heartstrings, and I need a bit of a pick-me-up before I go for a second read.”

“You’ll get your hands on it as soon as everyone else does.” You reassure them as they jokingly scoff and walk away.

Oh, the bliss of only being recognized by a small crowd of people.

You stop in front of the last tent on the docks - a large purple cloth hangs over the rods and poles that make up the foundation of the tent. Angry red vines dart over various parts of the tent, but none dare to cross each other.

You take a deep breath before entering the tent.

Hopefully her mood won’t sour mine.

“You’re earlier than usual. Did you get sick and tired of begging the guard to let you in until I would show up and save your ass?” Merrin, dressed in a conservative, frilly white dress, lights a candle with one hand as she balances on her cane with the other.

“Does your bad mood have to do with whoever’s wedding you interrupted?” You bite your lip as she slowly turns toward you.

“If my glasses were on me, I’d knock you to the floor with my cane.” She hobbles over to another table to light another candle as you approach the middle of the room. “And I thought this dress looks nice on me.”

“Yeah, if you were a fourteen-year-old noble who was forced to marry a man decades older than her.” Another sharp look from Merrin causes you to shut your mouth before she fulfills her early promise. “Are you in the mood to read something I’ve written?”

“Depends on if it’s better than the utter shit I’ve been reading all day.” Merrin sets her cane aside as she sits on one of the two chairs near the middle of the room. “Hand me my glasses, will you?”

“Don’t hit me with your cane, you old witch.” You pick her glasses up off of the floor before handing them to her.

“Why, I ought to-” She quickly grabs her cane, which causes you to immediately sit in the chair on her left.

You’re both playing with each other - she won’t hit you that hard, and you won’t completely piss her off. It’s just the way that Merrin is, and if you’re careful, you can break down her walls and see the woman behind the anger and sass.

As you look over to her, Merrin lightly taps your ankle with her cane as a rare smile appears on her face.

“How’s the novel coming? More progress than scribbles and midnight thoughts, I hope?” She looks surprised as you pull a bundle of parchment from your bag.

“I managed to get a chapter out, but it’s a rough draft, Merrin.” You remind her as you hand her the papers. “It isn’t very good-”

“-that’s for me to decide.” She says as she grabs the papers and adjusts the glasses on her face.

“I-” You interject before she gives you a pointed glare.

“Shut your damn mouth so I can read in peace.”

~

Sometimes you wonder why you chose Merrin as your editor - a form of punishment, perhaps?

That’s what you feel like you’re doing to yourself as she carefully scans every single word on the pages that you scribbled on. A spotlight has closed in on you, and you’re sweating under the pressure. What will you do if she rejects you again after this draft? Will you finally part ways with the woman who helped you find a path when you were nothing but an empty wanderer?

Merrin clears her throat as your attention snaps back to her.

She thinks it’s terrible - I’m never going to live this latest failure down.

“This is quite good.” She softly says as she reorganizes the papers for you.

“I beg your pardon?”

“And I thought I was the one with bad hearing, being old and all.” She snorts as you reach for the papers from her extended hand.

As soon as your hand touches them, Merrin snatches them out of your reach with a knowing smile.

“I have one question about the main character.” 

“Alright, lay it on me.” You sigh in relief as you can mentally prepare yourself for her critiques.

Rosella was hardly fleshed out, and she had little-to-no dialogue to give perspective into her motivations, ideals, and personality. Perhaps Merrin could help you with that?

“What woman inspired you to write Rosella?” She asks as you furrow your brows in confusion.

“Excuse me?”

“Answer the damn question.”

“I, uh…” You nervously look around, trying to think of an escape route. “She’s based on a friend, from long, long ago.”

You stress that this woman was long behind you, and there was absolutely nothing to worry about. It’s not like she would show back up in your life after years and years of silence.

“Well, if you see this friend from a long, long time ago,” She stresses the words the same way you did, “tell her that she’s one hell of a protagonist.”

“I will.” You grit your teeth as your mind wanders to the woman in question.

I hope I never see her again.

~

Giselle scribbles various notes onto the map within the captain’s quarters. She used to be the primary navigator when the Red-Hair Pirates were nothing but an idea in Winter’s head.

“One day, this boat will be filled with pirates and friends we’ve collected in our travels,” Winter looked over to Giselle before placing a hand on her back, “and I’m going to need you to be by my side, every second of every day.”

Winter paused for a moment, before walking towards the ship and extending her hand to her.

“You have everything you ever need here - a good education, family, friends, and stability. I’m offering adventure until your heart's content, enough money to set your family up for life, and every kind of booze imaginable.”

“Even rum?” Giselle tilted her head at Winter, who gave her a toothy grin.

“Especially rum. So, are you in or what?”

“I’m in, I just… have to say some goodbyes first.”

Now, her role within the crew was more muddled, somewhat lying between weaponsmaster and navigator. Usually, she would sort out her navigating affairs in the morning, and then keep up with the weapons in the afternoon. The nighttime was reserved for merrymaking and hell-raising - just as Giselle liked it.

But there was a part of her missing, something she had been chasing with booze and adventure that couldn’t be replaced.

What was she missing?

“Giselle!” Karina barrels into the captain’s quarters as she nearly collides into the table.

“You’re still drunk.” She chuckles. “You can’t handle your liquor for shit.”

“And you prefer in that way, so you can scam me out of my money.” Karina scoffs before loudly hiccuping.

“Alright,” Giselle stops working and puts her hands up in the air, “I am a bit of a trickster, but we’re pirates, remember? It’s kind of our thing.”

“Eh.” Karina shrugs before throwing a book onto the desk where Giselle was working.

“What’s this?” 

She studies the book for a moment before looking at Karina

“A gift from the Captain. Winter says to come see her after giving it a read.” Karina stumbles out of the door before loudly shutting it.

“Riveting conversation with a drunk Karina, like usual.” Giselle mumbles to herself. “I wonder why Winter would want me to read this?”

Her hands gently trace the spine as she studies the author’s name in bold ink.

It’s not one she recognizes, but perhaps she might know the writing style? Curious, Giselle carefully opens the book and begins to read.

~

It was mid-afternoon before Giselle exited the captain’s quarters, much later than usual. When she does, she immediately charges towards her quarters in a fury.

It takes every bone in Giselle’s body to stop her from ripping her room to shreds to find the letters that she had locked away years ago.

The letters that reminded her of you. The letters that had the same cadence and writing style that you did. Those letters tied you to her, and, at the moment, pointed to you as the author.

More than that, Giselle had come to the realization that Winter knew that the two of you were connected.

And that was more terrifying than confronting someone from her past.

Giselle finds the letters under her bed, and they’re carefully tied together with a bit of rope. She snatches them within an instant, and she tucks them under her arm before beginning her journey to find Winter.

“Giselle!” Ningning calls out to her as Giselle appears on the upper deck. “I had a question about some of the knives that I found in the gunroom.”

“Not the time.” Giselle charges right past her as she spots Winter on the quarterdeck. 

“Is that the book Winter asked me to get you?” 

Giselle, with no hesitation, turns on her heel to face the assassin.

“Of course she did!” She sighs before turning around. “Am I the one finding this out last when it’s my business?”

“If it comforts you, I didn’t ask for any details. I just grabbed the book and gave it to her.” Ningning plays with a knife in her hand as Giselle tightly squeezes the book in her left hand.

“Thanks.” She grumbles before calling out to Winter, “Hey, you have some explaining to do!”

“As do you!” Winter copies her volume, but she waits until Giselle comes closer to begin speaking in a softer tone. “Are they the reason why you tried to send letters back to your hometown from the different ports that we stopped in?”

“You knew about that?” Giselle stares, absolutely befuddled.

“I know when my friends aren’t themselves. I did a little digging, and I found a gold vein.” Winter looks out to the ocean. “You could’ve told me, you know. We could’ve worked something out.”

“But you needed me-”

“-I did, but I wouldn’t have asked you to come if I knew that your loyalties lied with someone else.”

Giselle physically deflates before confessing the truth to Winter.

“So you know that I was a part of the naval academy before I joined you.” Giselle looks away in shame, like a small puppy. “They were too, but we quit together-”

“-so you could chase your dreams together. You, an acclaimed mapmaker. Them, an accomplished novelist. Do I have the narrative right?” Winter raises an eyebrow at Giselle.

Not quite.

“I loved them.” Giselle bites her lip. “I love them.”

Panic covers Giselle’s face as she opens her mouth to speak.

“There it is,” Winter smirks before yelling to the crew, “Set sail to the west.”

“I’m doing you a favor, mind you. You need to figure this out before it ends with you getting yourself killed. I can’t stand to watch my crewmate, my friend, drink herself into an early grave.”

“So we’re doing this?” Giselle asks.

“You’re doing this.”

~

“The pirates are coming! The pirates are coming!” A man on a horse repeats the same phrase over and over as he passes by your estate.

Pirates? Here? Why?

No, it can’t be those pirates.

Your head snaps towards the nearest window that faces the docks. In the distance, you can see a large pirate show approaching your humble town.

And wouldn’t you know it, the flag on the ship shows a dead skull sporting some fire-red hair.

The Red-Hair Pirates.

The crew that Giselle’s a part of.

Shit.

You can see a group of villagers approach the docks from your side, and you’re sure a fight will break out - no, a bloodbath will occur - if someone doesn’t get down there and stop it.

Maybe that naval training will come into use.

~

“Your kind isn’t welcome here.” A villager points a large shotgun at Winter’s chest, and she seems unphased by his outburst.

“We’re not here to loot, we just want to rest.” She pulls out a gold coin and flips it into the air before grabbing it and offering it to the villager. “Our coin is good here, no?”

“I-” He pauses before studying the coin. “One night. And the only place that you can shop is the night market.”

“That sounds like our kind of place, right?” Winter turns to her pirates, who cheer loudly. “I’ll make sure they’ll behave, I swear.”

“You better.” He scoffs before spitting at the ground. “C’mon, we have better things to do than guard open docks.”

The villagers disperse, which causes Giselle to sigh in relief.

That’s a battle I didn’t want to fight.

“Alright, everyone, back on the ship until nightfall. We aren’t welcome here until then, so this boat better be spotless in a few hours!” Winter commands, and her crew scrambles back onto the ship as Winter pulls Giselle aside. “Do you know where you’re going?”

“I do, and I don’t need backup. I’ll be back before nighttime.” Giselle softly says before Winter grabs her shoulder.

“I’d like to meet your friend, if they want to meet me. Perhaps it can help explain why you left - take some of the blame off of your shoulders,” Winter shrugs, “Or I can just have a drink with a friend and a friend of a friend. Either works for me.”

They’re… leaving?

“Not sure I’d call us friends, but I’ll see what I can do.”

~

You watch from a distance as the villagers, your neighbors, disperse with varying emotions on their faces. Some look relieved, others seem pissed, but most appear to be indifferent.

As if killing another wasn’t a brutal act that weighed on your soul for as long as you lived.

A woman with striking red hair turns to the pirates on the dock, and with only a few words, she sends them back onto the ship.

Their captain - Winter, the pirate queen of myths and legends.

Infamous doesn’t even begin to describe Winter, as her face was neatly plastered on every wanted board across the nation. Her reputation of brutality nearly exceeds her generosity and kindness. She took from the rich government ships and gave to the poor towns that she traveled to.

Almost like a storybook character. Perhaps my next protagonist can take some of her qualities.

Before all of her crew can go back to the ship, Winter pulls one of them aside. A girl with blonde hair, but a face that you recognize. Not from the wanted posters that showed her with black hair and a devilish yet charming smile.

But a ghost from your past, the woman who you were hoping to escape from. The girl who had invaded your dreams every night since she left.

Your Rosella.

Giselle.

You want to turn away, to run back to the safety of your home, but you can’t. Not because you want to see Giselle, but because she’d follow you back home.

After all, it was her home too.

With a deep breath, and as much courage as you can muster, you let your feet carry you towards Giselle.

Towards your destiny.

Giselle’s eyes widen as she sees you walking towards her with an unreadable expression on your face. You’re not completely pissed, which is good, but you don’t look happy. You’re not sad, but there isn’t any longing in your eyes. There’s no indifference in your face, but when your eyes meet hers, a twinkle of nostalgia appears briefly.

~

Perhaps you missed her as much as she missed you.

“You look…” Giselle pauses as the two of you meet in the middle of the road. “Well.”

“Thanks.” You nod before looking out to the ocean. “I like your blonde hair. It suits you.”

“Thanks…” Giselle trails off while hoping that the road would open up and swallow her whole.

Why was it so hard to talk to you? She thought of a million things to say to you, but none of them seemed right.

So let’s start with the simplest one.

“I’m sorry.”

When the words leave her lips, you look over in surprise.

As if you thought that she meant to hurt you.

A dagger slices through her heart, as the wound that is your shared history is reopened again. She’s going to let herself drown in bad blood unless she says something else.

Something that will make this right.

Nothing will, she knows this. But why not try?

“I’m sorry for leaving you with such a shitty goodbye. I’m sorry for convincing you to leave the naval academy with me and then leaving you behind. I’m sorry that I never was able to return your letters.” She pauses to hand you them.

“You kept them?” You tilt your head at her. “After all of these years?”

“Of course I did.” She says before softly laughing. “It was the only reminder I had of home.”

“I thought the sea was your home.” 

“No, my home was always you.” Giselle quietly mumbles. “I wanted to explore, to see the world, but I wanted to come back home.”

“Why didn’t you write me back?” Your voice is laced with hurt, and Giselle wants nothing more than to hold you in her arms.

But you’re not that close, not anymore.

“I tried to, but no letter carrier would take my money. Turns out that people aren’t fond of pirates,” She scoffs, “but I kept them all in my quarters. Perhaps you’d like to see them?”

A light smile appears on your face - you’re actually contemplating her offer.

“Would you like to see the home first? I don’t know if it has changed much-”

“-that sounds great.” Giselle lets out a breath she didn’t know she was holding.

A peace offering. An olive branch. Perhaps you can begin anew?

~

Months ago, you would’ve sworn at Giselle if she had set foot in your town, let alone in your house. That was before you finished the book, before a character in that book taught you something about forgiveness.

“Will you ever forgive me, my dear?” Rosella says to her beloved. “I know it’s been years, but I can’t help but yearn for you. Our souls are intertwined, and no amount of treasure will ever make up for losing you.”

“I… I don’t know. I don’t know if I can ever truly forgive and forget, but…”

“But?” A flicker of hope appears in Rosella’s eyes.

“But maybe there’s room for us to start again. If we’ve both healed from our past wounds, then what’s the use of bringing them up again?”

You watch Giselle comb over your bookshelf as you take a seat in the living room. 

“You really didn’t change this place, huh?” She says before sitting at a chair on the opposite end of the room.

“It didn’t feel right. This is still your home, after all.” You say.

“Our home,” Giselle corrects you before her eyes widen, “shit. I didn’t mean to-”

You wave away her concerns with a charming smile.

“No, it’s alright.”

An awkward silence spreads over the room - what should you say to her now?

“Do I make you uncomfortable?” Giselle softly asks before looking in your eyes. “I don’t want to intrude if I’m not welcome.”

You take a deep breath - it’s time to address the massive elephant in the room.

“Giselle, I don’t want to do this back-and-forth with you. I want to talk about what happened between us.” 

You’re surprised at how mature you sound, how non-malicious your words are. You had gone over this moment a thousand times in your head, but none of them were this nice or friendly.

“What is there to talk about? I ruined your life, no, our lives. I promised you that pirating was only a temporary thing, and you can see how that ended-”

“It pains me to see you tear yourself up about this, Giselle.” You calmly say as she pauses and reflects for a moment. “How can we move forward if we’re stuck reliving the past over and over?”

“You want to start again?” 

Giselle looks dumbfounded as you nod.

“We might not be that close again, not for a long time, but we can try being friends. Then we’ll see where it goes.” You shrug your shoulders as she thinks for a moment before responding.

“Why would you let me get away with what I did to you? I left you alone for years, with not a word of my health and well-being. Why put yourself through that again?”

You chuckle to yourself as familiar words come to the front of your mind.

“Maybe there’s room for us to start again. If we’ve both healed from our past wounds, then what’s the use of bringing them up again?”

“From your book.” She responds wistfully before her eyes widen. “You wrote yourself as the love interest?”

“Uh-huh.” You nod as the realization comes crashing down on Giselle.

“And the girl, Rosella, who is strong, beautiful, and kind. The girl who messes up time after time yet she still manages to redeem herself - that’s me?”

“Yup.” You’re quiet for a moment, to allow Giselle to process everything. “Do you know why I chose you as my inspiration?”

“Why?” She leans forward as her voice quivers in anticipation. “Why me?”

“Because no matter how much I hated you, I could never get you out of my head. You haunted my every dream and nightmare. I couldn’t escape your grasp, so I wrote about the woman who had completely transfixed my mind, body, and soul.” 

A breathy chuckle escapes your lips.

This is just like a confession that I would write in my book. The next thing she would say is I love you-

“I never stopped loving you.” She confesses before standing up.

You stand up to meet her gaze.

“Neither did I.”

~

“To be completely honest,” Winter says as you and Giselle approach the docks, “I didn’t expect you to come back.”

“You’re still my captain, Winter.” She smiles before gesturing to you. “This is my friend, the one I told you about.”

“Friend,” She stares at your intertwined hands, “right. Excuse my staring. It isn’t every day that you meet an author of legend.”

You feel your cheeks heat up.

“Ah, that’s sweet of you to say.” You nudge Giselle’s shoulder. “Why can’t you be as charming as her?”

“Hey-” She tries to defend herself, but Winter’s laughter cuts her off.

“Oh, I like them. They’d be a good addition to our crew.”

Your mouth hangs agape as you blink rapidly.

“You… you can’t be serious.”

“I’m afraid so, unless Giselle objects?” Winter turns to Giselle, who glances at you.

“It’s your decision. I won’t force it on you-”

“Yes,” You quickly answer, “but I’m not sure what use I would be to your crew.”

“We could use your writing and organizing skills to keep track of weapons, finances, maps, food, and other supplies on the ships. That means that you would be working closely with Giselle and I.” Winter explains as you nod along. “Plus there would be plenty of time for you to continue writing your latest masterpiece. I know you’re good with a gun - I can see the Navy’s engravings on the handle, so combat won’t be an issue for you.”

You quickly hide your gun holster with your coat.

“I hope you don’t take offense to my weapons background,” You say before leaning over to Giselle, “how the fuck does she know all of that?”

“Long story, I’ll explain after a drink or two,” Giselle whispers back, “but I’m glad that you’re going with us. It’ll be nice to show you to all of the places that we’ve been before.”

“Got it.” You smile before letting go of Giselle’s hand.

She reaches out to grab it, but you instead maneuver around her hand to give her a kiss on the cheek.

“I, um…” She struggles to articulate her feelings as a furious blush appears on her face.

Winter laughs loudly before gesturing towards the ship.

“We still have a few hours before nightfall. Perhaps we can celebrate with a drink?”

“Sounds good. You in?” You ask Giselle, who can’t even look you in the eyes.

“Yeah, I’ll be there.” Her face is still red as Winter walks to the ship.

“Feel free to join me when you’re ready.”

You go to follow behind her, but Giselle stops you by catching your arm with her hand.

“Hey, I-” She pauses to regain her composure, “Thank you, for this. I needed it.”

“It really isn’t a problem,” You say before leaning in to tease her, “but don’t expect me to kiss you every time you need a pick-me-up.”

“Damn, you know my schemes before I can properly plan them.” Giselle smirks before pulling you closer. “But I can always kiss you, right?”

She closes the distance between your lips before quickly pressing a kiss to your neck.

“Tease.” You grumble as she leans back.

“You started it, and I ended it.” She shrugs before her hand slips into yours. “We shouldn’t keep Winter waiting - we don’t want her to have a bad impression of you, right?”

You nod as Giselle leads you on to the ship.

As her crewmates greet you and welcome you onto the ship, you wonder if this new chapter of your life will be something to write about.

Maybe it’s time for my story to be told.

[poorlyyy]

Rest of our Lives (comm.)

Vlad “Dracula” Tepes x F!Reader x Lisa Tepes

Summary: “Holy” matrimony. (Smut!!)

Word count: 1.5k

Life is odd.

Each moment moves so fast, yet so slow. Sometimes you can pin point exact scents or feelings. Taking you back to a moment in childhood.

And sometimes you struggle to recall what you ate for supper the night prior.

So you struggle to make sense of how you got to be standing under a beautiful flower archway, in front of Dracula himself and Dr.Lisa Tepes. The room held only a dozen people, an older woman stands behind you three, guiding you each through your vows.

After all the three of you went through, it feels like a lifetime of memories.

Well, for you and Lisa, it most definitely was. For Dracula, on the other hand, you wonder if he’ll recall the smaller moments.

The light chatter of the both of you talking over a cup of tea, muffled through the wood of his coffin.

Or maybe the softness of your hands, gliding down his cheek.

Even just the curves of your faces, any moles that lay forgotten on your skin, baby hairs that stray from failed attempts to slick down your hair.

Eternity is an awful long time, made especially harder when you must continue to say goodbye to your loved ones. Is that why he wishes to add you to this beautiful family? To fill a void?

Bitter thoughts are the devils work, and the devil is working especially hard this evening. Doubt fuels your struggling mind. And none of Lisa’s sweet words were enough to sedate them.

Tonight was the first of, hopefully, the rest of your mortal life. Joining the happy couple in their holy matrimony. Lisa was ecstatic, running around the manor all day gathering supplies and finalizing details. Dracula was helping wherever Lisa demanded it. From lifting chandeliers to picking out flowers, the man was at her beck and call.

They seemed so eager to take this leap forward. Start a new chapter. But standing at the foot of the bed in one of the guest rooms, that gnawing sensation returns.

The voice of reason is oddly quiet as the lovely hand stitched lace flows beautifully. It hangs in front of you. Red fabric standing out amongst the white sheets.

Untraditional, but what about tonight wasn’t?

Marrying a woman doctor and a vampire wasn't exactly “traditional” in these parts. Or rather, this world.

Time wasn’t allowing you much room to panic, forcing you to get ready in a timely manner.

The dress fit perfectly, thanks to Dracula’s alterations. Small jewels had been hand sewn into the neckline of the dress. Gloves pulled up to elbow length. The top starts light, then pools into a deep burgundy at your feet.

The man had quite the sewing skills. Something he picked up a few centuries ago, he had bragged once.

“Darling?”

It’s Lisa.

“One moment!” It’s a bit for a struggle, but you manage to wrangle your dress into a tight fist. Rushing to open the door a crack.

You’re able to see a sliver of Lisa and Vlad. They share a look of concern.

“Are you alright?” Dracula asks, trying to peek into the room and get a better look at you.

Instinctively moving your body more behind the door, you try to hide your dress.

“No peeking! It’s bad luck to see the dress before the ceremony.”

Lisa rolls her eyes, Vlad chuckles.

“Oh please, Lord knows how much either of us care for superstition.”

You stand firm.

“Well I do! Now shoo, I still have a few minutes to get ready.”

She throws her hands up in defeat.

“Fine! But if you need anything-“

Vlad places a hand on her shoulder, guiding her away.

“I think she is fine, my love. We’ll be waiting.”

Lisa reluctantly follows him, giving you a chance to close the door.

Which leads you back to this moment. Standing in front of your soon to be husband and wife. Lisa has her hair up, soft blonde locks frame her face. She chose to stick with a more traditional wedding dress, the one she wore when she was originally married to Vlad.

Vlad has his hair in a loose ponytail, swapping his usual cape out for a freshly pressed burgundy suit.

Caught up in their beauty, you don’t realize everyone’s attention has turned towards you.

“Oh! I’m sorry, I was a bit distracted. You both look so lovely…sorry…” The audience chuckles, Vlad gives Lisa a small grin.

They reach out to each to take one of your hands.

“Do you take Lisa Tepes and Vlad Tepes, to be your loving husband and wife?”

They both squeeze your hands, Lisa is smiling through her tears, Vlad gently rubs her lower back.

“I do.”

“Then I now pronounce you husband and wife…and wife. You may kiss the bride and husband?” She struggles to find the right words. But it’s enough to make Lisa rush forward and meet your lips, Vlad leans down as well. The cold of his skin is a stark difference from Lisa’s warmth.

Their body heat often surprised in the bedroom. One hand hot and soft, another cold and calloused. It took some getting used to, now you relish the diversity.

Even now as you are laid on your back, dress carefully tosses over your vanity. Both your lovers stare down at you lovingly. New sensation of a ring around your finger only adds to the intensity of your lovemaking. Your ring shines a little brighter than theirs, but fits like a glove.

Only your undergarments block your body from their intense gazes. But this wasn’t the night for rushing. No, they were taking their sweet time with you.

Out of all of your relationships, this was the first one where your pleasure came before all else.

Vlad drags his fangs down the length of your neck, snapping you to attention. He’s so careful, forever and always, but he knows exactly how much it excites you. Lisa is making her way down your body. Hands following a trace of moisture that her lips leave behind. Sucking on the skin near your navel, making the breeze feel even colder.

“You’re so good to us,” she whispers in between love bites, “Tell them, Vlad.”

“Yes, very good.” He chuckles deeply, face still buried in your neck.

“I- I’m not even doing anything. Ah!”

Lisa’s finger rub you through your underwear, focusing on your clit. The friction is perfect yet not enough. They’re never enough. Always tethering the line between overwhelming and just falling short.

She pulls down your bloomers, pushing your thighs apart, making room for her.

Vlad tips your head back, forcing you to look away from Lisa’s mouth leaving kisses down the inside of your thigh. His lips pressing against yours, cold tongue pushing against yours. It just makes Lisa’s mouth feel so much hotter.

Cold hands slide under your brassiere, unclasping it and slowly pulling it off.

Vlad takes a moment to appreciate the view. You can’t help but feel warm under his gaze. Like a piece of art in his eyes.

“You’re divine.” He whispers.

You tug him closer by the collar, “And you’re overdressed.”

They both chuckle at that. Lisa finally licks small flicks across your clit. Going lower to lick the wetness at your opening.

“Oh- God!” Hands fly to reach for something, Vlad beats you to it. Entangling his fingers into yours.

“Let it out, my love. I want to see you fall apart.” His eyes glow a fiery red, fangs peeking out as he grins down at you.

“Touch her more.” Lisa’s voice makes you twitch from its vibration.

He doesn’t need to be told twice. Putting that pointed tongue to good use on your chest, lapping and sucking on your nipples.

Lisa inserts two fingers at once. Fingers only pausing a moment before setting a steady pace. That familiar feeling builds up, waves of pleasure pushing you closer to the edge.

But before that last push over, Lisa pulls away.

“What- no, I was so close! Don’t stop now??” You groan, feeling your hopes for an orgasm fading.

“You shouldn’t climax like this on our honeymoon.”

“Climax? Oh lord, you really are a doctor.” Flopping flat on your back as Vlad chuckles and shifts to switch spots with Lisa.

“I suppose you’re right.”

He has clothes on- but now he doesn’t. In a blink of an eye he was disrobed, body still as sculpture worthy as ever.

Moving one leg on either side of his torso, he strokes himself just out of your reach.

“United body and soul right, my sweet wife?”

“Oh god- yes… please…”

“How can he say no to such a sweet face.” Lisa cups your cheek, turning you to give her a small peck.

He pulls you towards him, tip touching your entrance. “To the first night, of the rest of our lives.”

“Just fuck me, Mr. Tepes.”

“With pleasure, Mrs. Tepes.”

[thisgirlnamedblusy]

HELLO GORGEOUS WHAT'S UPPPP🤺

just wanted to request something SUPER angsty lolll.

Maybe reader and Donna Having their first huge argument? and like saying stuff they don't really mean?

THANK YOUUUUU <3

Yesss!!! Thank you for the compliment xD and for your request!!! I hope you like it and sorry about the language mistakes!!!! :))))

Your jealous heart

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem! Reader

Warnings: Angst, jealousy, fluff, mental health issues, Donna being Donna...

Word count: 7,907

Summary: That girl's just a friend, she has to understand, right?

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

“(Y/N)? Is that you?” a pleasant voice interrupted your path out of the church. It wasn't just any voice, you knew it.

“Mm?” you murmured, searching for the origin of those words that said your name and smiling when you found it. “Oh, Lydia,” you sighed, approaching the young smiling woman.

Excited by an unexpected encounter, you hugged her, who was none other than your best friend, a childhood friend that you had missed quite a bit.

“(Y/N), how long has it been?” she said, returning the hug enthusiastically, like when you were just a couple of excited teenagers.

You shrugged, looking down, where a baby was sleeping peacefully.

“Oh, I see that a long time…” you sighed, bending down to look at the child. “Is it your son? I can't believe it.”

“Yes,” she answered, bending down as well. “Ivan.”

“Wow... I've missed a lot of things this year,” you murmured, cooing at the baby, who didn't seem to notice your presence. “Hello, hello, little one.”

“I'm glad to see you, (Y/N), I was afraid I wouldn't be able to do it again,” your friend commented, with a more serious tone, looking away.

“Well, I've been quite busy,” you said, getting up and looking for your companion with your eyes, something complicated due to the number of faithful villagers talking to each other.

“Yes, that's what I heard,” Lydia murmured, her voice low and broken.

The young woman came a little closer to you, looking around.

“People in this village talk a lot,” she whispered almost in your ear, as if she was afraid of something.

“It's their favorite sport,” you said amused, making more funny gestures at the sleeping baby. “I'm not surprised.”

“Yes, well... I have to admit that with the pregnancy and the child I haven't had much time to attend to my duties with the Black Gods, but I’ve heard rumors,” she said, smiling at her baby and looking around again.

“What have you heard?” you asked, giving your friend a nudge.

“Well, when you mysteriously disappeared I assumed that you had managed to escape from this place,” she began, in a calmer tone. “I know you never liked living here. I asked Luiza and the others if they knew anything and they told me that… Well, that you hadn't left.”

“That's obvious,” you said arching an eyebrow, amused by Lydia's curious attitude, one that you understood.

“Okay, I have to ask you,” she finally said, standing in front of you, subtly moving away from curious eyes and ears. “Is it true? Do you…? Do you have something with Donna Beneviento? Luiza told me that you were now living with her and that you weren't exactly a maid.”

“I see that in a place like this it's impossible to hide something,” you whispered laughing, blushing. “Yes, it's true. I've been living with her for a year. We have… A relationship,” you explained in a low voice.

“Really? But, but, (Y/N), she's… She's… A-A Lord,” Lydia asked, not surprised, but curious, very curious “When did that happen?”

“A year ago, more or less,” you said, looking up to try to be accurate with your memories. “I met her by chance.”

“Met her? (Y/N), she's…” she said, looking around again. “W-Well, no one knows exactly what she's like, but she's dangerous.”

“Nonsense, Donna's lovely,” you corrected, crossing your arms. “She's not as terrible as people say.”

“I find that hard to believe… They say, they say she's crazy and that if you go to her territory, you'll probably never come back,” your friend said, moving her baby's stroller.

“It's true that she's sick, and she's definitely a very strange woman, but I... I love her. She's good, she takes care of me in her own way and the truth is, I've never been better.”

“I understand,” she said, nodding distrustfully. “(Y/N), they say she killed her gardener, the man who took care of her when her family died.”

“Um... Well...” you said scratching the back of your neck, knowing that you couldn't deny the evidence, no matter how painful it was. “Yes, well, um...”

“What were you thinking to get involved with her?” she asked, making you sigh uncomfortably. “She's terrifying.”

“We could talk about what you were thinking the day you conceived this precious thing,” you said amused, speaking tenderly to the baby. “Lydia, I know what I'm doing. Donna loves me, I love her… Well, I guess the rest doesn't matter.”

“I-I hope you're right, I don't want to lose my friend,” Lydia murmured, looking away.

“You're exaggerating,” you said with a wry smile. “We should meet and talk about all of this more calmly, like we did before.”

“Yes, of course, I think it's a great idea and... Oh, Gods, Lady Beneviento,” she said, suddenly lowering her head.

You frowned and looked up. The lady in black was there, holding her doll, standing still, not moving, but making you feel her intense gaze, hidden by that horrible black veil.

“Oh, Donna, meet my childhood friend, Lydia,” you said in a casual tone, approaching your girlfriend and grabbing her arm romantically.

Donna didn't move, just made a vague gesture with her head, leaning towards your ear.

“Let's go home,” Donna whispered in a hoarse voice.

“Yes, yes, um... Wait for me outside, honey, I'll be right there,” you said with a smile, moving away from Donna, who stood still for a few seconds before walking towards the exit, turning her head towards you from time to time.

“Honey... Gods, (Y/N), she's terrifying,” your friend said when she was free from the doll maker's presence, causing you to laugh slightly as you shook your head.

“Nonsense,” you said, sure of yourself. “Well, I was delighted to see you. I hope we can see each other soon.”

“I hope so too,” the young woman said, looking towards the door through which the lady in mourning came out. “I-I have a lot of things to tell you.”

“Oh, me too,” you said amused.

“I see,” Lydia murmured, scratching the back of her neck.

“Wait a minute,” you said, searching for a piece of paper in your bag and writing something on it. “Here, that's the number of the mansion, call me when you have a chance and we'll catch up,” you said, handing her the piece of paper.

“Hey, you stupid idiot!” a shrill voice that you knew well caught your attention. “Are you coming or what?!”

“Yeah, I'm coming…” you growled at the impatient cries of the Angie doll, looking back at your friend. “Call me, okay? I really want to remember old times.”

“I will, (Y/N).”

You couldn't blame your friend for feeling terror, for feeling all that the rumors said you would feel if you approached the lady in black.

Like everything that happened in your life, chance gave you the opportunity to face that world of nightmares that surrounded Donna’s dark figure, although the result wasn’t exactly what you expected.

Behind that cloud of rumors and gossip hid a tormented soul, a woman with an inferiority complex, solitary, reclusive and surly. The misfortunes of her family had worsened her mental disorders to the point that she caught the attention of Miranda, who adopted her as her fourth daughter.

A terrible past, a deformity on her face, the inability to relate to others… Donna Beneviento was certainly not the ideal woman to fall in love with, but you never looked for the ideal woman.

Kind, loving, romantic… These were aspects that the rumors never talked about, traits of the woman in black that you discovered for yourself and made you fall even more into her protective arms.

With no prospects for a better future, hopelessly in love and curious about the new life that was presented to you, you decided to put aside your attempts to escape the village and start the most important love story of your life.

Jealousy always flew around Donna's head, her erratic and confusing attitude was something you had to learn to deal with, but you always managed, you always overcame any problem.

After a year living with her, with that sinister doll maker, you realized that this was actually your fate, that Donna was precisely the place where you should and wanted to be.

The walk back to the mansion was romantic and silent. As you feared, the lady wasn’t the least bit interested in your words, in your explanation about the young woman who was talking to you.

It didn't surprise you. Anything that had nothing to do with you was of no interest to the lady in black.

The days passed quietly, wrapped in a terribly romantic atmosphere, wrapped in her caresses, her kisses, her whispers…

“Hey, Donna,” you said amused, letting her hand pull your body, sitting you on her lap. “I have to... Read.”

“Read? Well, read with me, tesoro,” she said, her voice velvety soft, kissing you quickly, in one of her romantic outbursts, one of those you secretly adored. “Are you uncomfortable?”

“Mm, let's see…” you sighed amused, placing yourself on her lap, wrapping your hands around her neck. “It's not the best position to read,” you joked seductively.

“Then we're not going to read,” Donna said, whispering on your lips, caressing your back while keeping you close to her, very close, just the way she liked it. “I really want to tell you how much I love you… “

“Oh, really? Because I want to hear it,” you whispered, biting your lip before her kisses moistened the atmosphere.

It seemed like a normal day, an explosion of romance and passion as erratic as Beneviento, one that you no longer knew how to live without. Unfortunately, reality interrupted that festival of kisses and dancing hips with a shrill sound.

“Phone!” Angie shrieked, tugging at her owner's black dress. “Donna, Donna, phone!”

“Ugh, Angie, lasciami,” the lady sighed, concentrating on her kisses, on her hands slipping through the gaps in your dress.

Of course, the doll didn't give up, pulling harder. The sound of the old phone started to be terribly annoying and the lady sighed, fixing your hair with a loving but somewhat disappointed look.

“Pick it up, will you?” Donna said, pushing you away and looking over your shoulder.

“I'm not your servant!” the puppet shrieked, making the noise in the normally quiet mansion even louder. “Damn it.”

With no other choice, the puppet obeyed, comically climbing onto the small table where the phone rang tirelessly.

“This is House Beneviento… Stupid Donna is busy making out with the fool, so drag your ass to the phone later, thanks,” the doll mocked, speaking through the phone, something that irritated the lady.

“Angie…” she hissed in a very low voice, picking you up and sitting you on the couch  among romantic laughs. “Wait a moment, tesoro…” she said to you as an apology.

“I can wait,” you said in a seductive way, arching your eyebrows as Donna approached the small table, making abrupt gestures towards Angie and snatching the phone from her.

“Pronto,” the lady said in a cold tone, almost in a whisper.

Her face darkened little by little. You leaned in curiously. You hadn't heard any praise or Miranda's name, so it was impossible for you to know who was on the other side. Suddenly Donna's head turned to you with a frown, her expression cold and annoyed.

“What's wrong? Who is it?” you asked, surprised, getting up from the couch when you didn't get an answer.

“It's for you,” Donna whispered, with that same cold expression, frowning, extending the phone towards you and immediately moving away, giving you a soft bump with her shoulder.

“For me?” you asked curiously, putting the speaker to your ear. “Um, hello?”

“(Y/N)? It's you...” the voice on the other end said. It seemed a little scared, but it didn't take you long to recognize it.

“Lydia? Oh, hey, how are you?” you said relieved to hear your friend's voice, relief overshadowed by the curious and penetrating expression of the lady in black. “You finally called, I thought you wouldn't.”

“I had to think about it,” she said with a scared laugh. “It's not easy to know that I'm calling to a Lord’s house.”

“You're calling your friend's house, don't be dramatic,” you joked, making a playful gesture towards the lady in black, who completely ignored your funny intentions.

“Yeah, well, um…” Lydia murmured, sighing. “I was thinking that we could meet this afternoon, you know, to chat a bit. It's Igor's day off and he can take care of Ivan.”

“It's a great idea, we have a lot of things to talk about,” you said smiling, frowning at the brunette's stoic and unmovable attitude. “Where? Should I go to your house or would you prefer to have a drink at…?”

“Wait a moment,” Donna interrupted, snatching the phone from your hand and lowering it towards Angie, who took it.

“The line has been interrupted momentarily, silly, wait a bit until it is fixed. In the meantime, I'll delight you with some music…”

A shrill humming forced you to cover your ears as Donna lightly pulled your arm, moving you away from the horrible noises of the doll.

“What's wrong?” you asked confused, at the nervous reaction of the lady, who seemed to shake her head.

“Are you going to meet that girl? Why?” she asked, more like an accusation than an innocent question.

“Um, yes, she's my friend, it's been a while since we've seen each other and…” you said, blinking, trying to interpret the cold emotions of the lady in black. “Oh, calm down, Donna, I won't be long.”

“No, I…” she said, shaking her head, putting her hands on your shoulders. “(Y/N), you know I don't like you… You going...”

“Nothing will happen to me, I know the area perfectly, besides, we will probably go to Luiza's house and…” you said in a normal voice, but suspecting that the doll maker wasn’t happy with your plans.

“Wait a minute, why did you give her my home number?” Donna interrupted, with a more abrupt tone.

“Because it's my home too, isn't it?” you answered intelligently, laughing amused, making the lady shut up with a grunt. “Don't be like that, my love, I'm sure that when I get back we can…” you whispered in an increasingly lower tone, getting closer to her ear. “Keep reading.”

“No, no, wait,” she said, grabbing your wrist when you were about to get closer to the phone again. “Why don't you meet here?”

“Here?” you asked confused, shaking your head and frowning.

The lady nodded unsurely, playing with her hands.

“Y-Yes, well… It's cold outside and I wouldn't want anything to happen to you,” she murmured in a voice that betrayed a big lie.

“It's cold... Donna...” you sighed, hands on your hips. “Isn't it because you want to keep an eye on us?”

“Oh, no... No, I...” she stammered, blinking childishly. “I...”

“Well, fine... I'll tell her,” you sighed, not believing that a visit was such a bad idea, ignoring the brunette's obvious jealousy.

After all, it was much better for her to realize that she had nothing to worry about.

You managed to convince your friend to come to the mansion. Again, you couldn't blame her for being afraid of that place, but you also saw it as a unique opportunity for both of you.

Donna would see that there was no danger in that friendship, and maybe Lydia would understand why you were so in love with the young Lord.

“Hello...” Angie said, mockingly dragging her words when the lady opened the door, revealing a frightened Lydia with her head down. “Are you the fool’s fool friend?”

“Y-Yes, I think so,” the girl said, being rescued by your presence.

“Lydia, I see you have arrived safely,” you joked, giving her a hug, a gesture that the veiled lady observed cautiously, stepping aside.

“Yes, I... Um, you have a very nice house, Lady Beneviento,” your friend said, looking towards the mysterious lady, who sighed annoyed, ignoring that comment.

“Forgive her, she doesn't like to talk,” you said amused, putting a hand on the young woman's back. “Shall we sit? Donna has made tea, right, darling?”

The lady growled discreetly, walking in front of you with a serious air, accompanied by her doll, who watched you amused.

Lydia nodded elegantly, sitting down without losing sight of Donna, who was patiently standing, intimidating the poor girl with her gaze.

“T-Thanks, (Y/N),” she whispered, settling down on the couch.

“Donna,” you said, looking strangely at the lady, who remained motionless. “Um, didn't you have to work on your dolls?”

“Do you think we're going to leave you alone with her, silly girl?” Angie mocked, making your friend step back.

“What do you mean?” you asked nervously, looking for some support in Donna's hidden gaze, one that you were unable to find. “Um, well, I-I suppose you can stay with us, if you want.”

“Yes, we do,” Angie said as the lady sat in front of you, without making a sound, like a ghost.

“Okay... Um... Well...” you murmured embarrassed by that uncomfortable presence.

If it was uncomfortable for you, you didn't want to even imagine what it was like for your friend, who looked at the floor, hoping not to coincide with the hidden, bright eye of Lady Beneviento. There were a few brief moments in which the creaking of the wood was your only companion, the only sound that could be heard in the mansion.

“So... Tell me,” you said, clearing your throat to interrupt the horrible dance of tense glances. “Wow, I never thought you would have a son.”

“Y-Yes, well... I...” your friend stammered, looking discreetly at the lady, who maintained a regal pose in the chair in front of you, with her hands on her knees, like a statue, motionless. “I…”

“Oh, don’t worry about her, just act like she’s not here,” you said, glaring at the lady, who, with her mere presence, was scaring your old friend. “Unless you have something to say… Donna?”

The woman in black shook her head softly as the doll Angie climbed onto the couch, staring at your friend.

“You have a son? Oh, how interesting,” the puppet said, causing your friend to nod slowly.

“Relax, Lydia, I assure you that they know how to keep a secret, don’t they?” you said through clenched teeth, looking at the doll.

“Yes, yes, tell us, tell us,” Angie insisted, jumping comically. “We don’t bite… Usually.”

“Th, the truth is that it wasn't in my plans either,” Lydia finally said, making a great effort to forget about your uncomfortable company. “Igor and I had been dating for years and... Well, we got married and...”

“Have you gotten married?” you asked, putting your legs up on the sofa and resting your head on your hand.

“Actually I married him when I found out I was pregnant, you know... Family stuff...” your friend explained, masterfully ignoring the doll's intense gaze.

“Who is that guy? Do I know him?” Angie asked, with a confident tone that gave you chills.

“T-The baker's son,” she explained.

“I can't believe it,” you said, trying to ease the tension. “After all, I was right.”

“Yes, it seems that way,” she said, amused. “I should have listened to you when you told me he was a good boy.”

“Of course,” you said triumphantly. “When are you going to learn that I'm always right? I'm never wrong.”

“Well, I think that sneaking into the Duke's warehouse to steal alcohol was a wrong decision,” your friend said, amused, forgetting for a moment the awkwardness due to nostalgia.

You blushed, scratching your head.

“Yes, but it was worth it,” you sighed amused.

Little by little the tension dissipated.

Donna seemed not to be there, so your friend gained enough confidence to ignore her intimidating presence. Laughter, memories of youth, anecdotes... Against all odds, it was a funny afternoon.

There really was no reason that would have prevented you from maintaining the relationship with your best friend, but your circumstances, and hers, abruptly separated you. Her son, your new relationship with Donna… It wasn’t the distance or the lack of interest in keeping your only friend, actually, your discovery of the lady in black, the steps your relationship was taking kept you away from the rest of your life, something you had no complaints about, of course.

Getting out of the nice and romantic routine you had with Donna was a breath of fresh air, a reminder that you hadn’t lost your life.

“Yes, I remember,” you said laughing after the second tea, remembering your little teenage misdeeds. “Luiza almost caught us.”

“She caught us, (Y/N), it wasn't the best place to hide from Dimitri,” said Lydia, laughing relaxed too.

“Who's Dimitri?” Angie asked, also interested in your anecdotes, being a pleasant addition to the conversation.

“Oh, a boy from the village, the poor guy thought he had a chance with me,” you said amused, noticing a movement in Donna's hands, which seemed to scratch her dress.

“He really thought so, (Y/N),” your friend said, with an amused smile. “I didn't even know that you were making out with Sofia that night and…”

You, being aware that this was a fact that Donna didn't know, quickly shook your head, trying to make Lydia understand that it was much better to keep that information.

The lady suddenly stood up, startling you. Yes, it had been a bad idea to make that comment.

Luckily, the old clock in the hall calmed that abruptness. That and the doll Angie, who gestured for Donna to sit back down, muttering something you didn't understand.

“Oh, it's late,” you said, sighing wistfully, forgetting that awkward moment. “Are you staying for dinner?”

“Oh, no, I don't want to bother you, besides, I have to, I have to take care of Ivan, but, thank you,” Lydia said kindly, standing up with an elegant curtsy. “Thank you for your time, Lady Beneviento.”

The doll maker looked at her but didn't say anything. She simply stood up slowly, putting her hands in front of her body.

“Wait, I'll come with you,” you said smiling, walking to the door next to your friend, who looked back nervously, making a shy gesture towards the doll, who waved her hand in farewell.

“Bye, bye,” Angie hummed playfully, being quickly grabbed by Donna, who lifted her into her arms.

“Ugh, well, nothing happened,” your friend commented, outside the mansion.

“Of course,” you said, leaning on the door frame.

“But, it was a bit… Disturbing, you know, that… she… was there,” she murmured discreetly. “I'm sorry, (Y/N), that woman scares me a lot.”

“Well, it's understandable,” you said amused, rolling your eyes. “Relax, Lydia, Donna's harmless.”

“I'd like to believe you,” she said in an even lower voice, looking around. “If you don't mind… Next time we'll meet at my house… It's nothing personal, it's just…”

“Yes, I know, Donna scares you,” you said mockingly, to which your friend nodded slowly. “Don't worry, we're in touch, right?”

“Of course, (Y/N), I really enjoyed talking to you… I'll, I'll call you,” Lydia said, turning slowly, taking a last look at the interior of the mansion. “Or, or better you call me, will you?”

“Fine, whatever,” you said kindly, with a calm voice. “Say hello to Igor, oh, and to little Ivan…”

“Of course, (Y/N)… Or, and… Take care, please.”

You frowned, crossing your arms.

“Y-Y-Yeah, sure…” you sighed, watching your friend walking away, and entered the house again, closing the door with a sigh of relief. It hadn't gone so bad, after all. “Anyway… Donna?”

The lady waited for you stoic as always, freeing herself from her black veil, with an expression that was anything but friendly.

Ignoring the danger, you approached her, giving her a small kiss on the lips and grabbing her waist.

“Where were we going, honey? I think you wanted to… Read with me, didn’t you?” you whispered sensually, kissing her again.

Donna pulled away from your kisses, shaking her head.

“I don’t feel like it,” she hissed in a dark whisper, moving your hands away from her body. “Leave me alone.”

“Oh, um, are you okay? I know you don’t like visitors but… It was your idea, so…” you said a nervously. “Do you need something? Do you want me to bring your medicine?”

“I’m going to the workshop to work on my dolls,” she said passively, shaking her head and turning her back on you.

“Okay, um… Donna, honey, are you sure you’re okay?” you asked nervously, playing with your trembling hands.

There was no answer, just an impatient walk of her heels on the wood, disappearing down the elevator hallway.

You looked at Angie, who remained the same as you, confused and shrugging.

“Hey, what got into her?” you asked discreetly, rubbing your forehead. “Did I do something wrong?”

“How would I know?” Angie said, walking away from you, leaving you confused. “Come on, silly, let's play.”

Ignoring the lady's strange attitude, you continued your routine of games with Angie, patiently waiting for dinner time. The moment to sit at the table and exchange romantic glances wasn’t long in coming, but it wasn’t love that was reflected in her bright eye, it was something else.

Donna hadn’t said a word since your friend left, and you knew her well enough to know that there was something that had upset or angered her. Of course, the comments about your past surely had something to do with it.

“Mm, delicious” you murmured with a tender smile, hoping that your affection would calm her worries, as irrational as they were.

The lady looked up briefly, drinking some wine and ignoring your compliments, making you sigh and play with your food, looking in that cold gaze for an explanation of her attitude.

“I don't like her,” the lady murmured, about to finish her dinner, without even looking at you.

“Mm? What are you talking about, sweetheart?” you asked distractedly, relieved to hear her melodic voice after what seemed like an eternity.

“That stupid girl, I don't like her,” Donna whispered, crossing her arms.

“You mean Lydia?” you asked, putting down your cutlery and staring at her. “Why? She hasn't done anything to you.”

“Breaking into my house and stealing my girlfriend, is that not enough for you?” she growled, slamming her fist on the table, causing an ominous sound of glass shaking.

“Wait, if I remember correctly, it was you who asked me to meet here,” you said with an unpleasant, inquisitive tone. “Now you change your mind?”

“I haven't changed my mind,” she said, not alerted by your annoyed tone, elegantly wiping herself with a napkin. “She's stupid, and I still think the same way.”

“Stupid? Lydia hasn't done anything to you, Donna,” you said in an accusatory tone, shaking your head. “In fact, maybe if you hadn't had that dark and sinister attitude you always had, you would have realized that she's a good…”

“Shut up, I don't want to hear you defend her,” she interrupted, pointing at you and cooling her dark gaze even more. “I've heard enough.”

“Oh, wow, and what exactly did you hear?” you asked ironically, crossing your arms with a haughty, defiant tone.

“Too many things, (Y/N),” Donna said furious, clenching her fist so hard that her knuckles turned white. “You told me that I was the first.”

“Yes, and it's true, you were my first long-term relationship, I didn't lie to you,” you said, frowning and letting the air out of your lungs little by little.

“That's why you went around making out with girls, right? As if you were a slut,” the lady growled, getting up from the table and pressing her lips tightly together.

You sighed again, shaking your head, with a mocking and false smile.

“If I haven't told you anything it's precisely to avoid that reaction, darling,” you said, getting up too, enduring the lady's hurtful words, some that, over time, you stopped giving importance to.

After all, Donna was sick. She didn't control her emotions well. You couldn't blame her for that.

“What else have you hidden from me? Did you make love to any of those stupid girls? Have you lied to me about that too?” the lady asked, coming closer and grabbing your arm tightly.

“Let me go, Donna,” you said with a serious voice, breaking free from her grip. “Look, it's clear that I can't talk to you right now, so relax, take a deep breath and think before you say anything else,” you said, putting your hands on her shoulders, making her look away. “That's it... Calm down, my love…”

“I'm sorry,” she apologized after relaxing, playing with your hand nervously. “I shouldn't have said that.”

“Okay, that's better… Now sit down while I pick this up, relax and forget about my past. You are my present, you know that, right, my love?” you said lovingly, lifting her chin and stealing a tender kiss on her lips.

Donna nodded, running her hands over your face and sighing sadly.

“I just don't like that girl, she gives me the creeps,” she said after a few quick and comforting kisses. “I don't want you to see her again.”

“The creeps? Why?” you asked amused, playing with her black hair, keeping your eyes on hers, which seemed to be trying to run away cowardly. “Come on, Donna, she doesn't...”

“I've seen how she looked at you, how she smiled at you. That girl wants something with you, I know it,” she affirmed nervously, grabbing your face harder.

“Don't talk nonsense, she has child and she's married,” you explained calmly, dealing again with her irrational jealousy. “I'm sorry, Donna, but I'm not going to stop seeing my friend because you have that damn paranoia, so you better get used to the idea, okay?”

“She'll take you away from me... I-I'll be alone... You'll leave me!” the lady screamed, making you step back for a moment, her whole body shaking with irrational anger. “You will leave me…”

“Oh, gosh, no honey, no… Stop…” you said worriedly as you watched the love of your life losing her mind, pulling her hair hard as she sobbed. “Shh, Donna, don't do that…”

“I can't stand it, no, no, I can't…” she stammered almost unintelligibly, alternating words in Italian and insults that made no sense. “I can't…”

“Come here…” you whispered lovingly, drawing the lady's trembling body towards yours, letting her rest her head on your shoulder as you hugged and comforted her as you already knew how to do masterfully. “Shh, don't cry, my Donna… I'm here with you… I'll always be here with you…”

“(Y/N)…” the woman sobbed, burying her head in your chest, pulling hard at your dress, desperately scratching your back. “Don't leave me, please, don't go... With-With her...”

“You know I won't, I know you know that,” you said, caressing her head. “Come on, stop crying... Donna...” you insisted, faced with the impossibility of calming her crying, something that was more complicated than other times.

“I don't want you to see her again, please...” she whispered after a moment, after a soft movement of your arms cradling the sick lady. “Don't make me suffer anymore...”

“Donna,” you said with a slightly calmer but firm voice. “Listen to me, you have to... Calm down, okay? Lydia is my friend, just my friend. I'm not interested in her and I'm not interesting to her, you have to understand that I want to see her from time to time, and that doesn't mean that I love you less or anything like that. Please, darling, tell me you understand…”

“I… V-Va, va bene…” Donna murmured, slowly moving away, surely embarrassed by her behavior. “S-She’s your friend.”

“Yes, that’s it,” you said with a smile, discreetly checking that the lady hadn’t managed to hurt herself. “She’s my friend, just my friend.”

“S-She won’t take you away from me, will she? You won’t leave me for her, will you?” she asked desperately, grabbing your hands tightly.

You hissed at the pain, but remained calm.

“Of course not, Donna,” you said, kissing her quickly, feeling the salty taste of her tears on your lips. “You are the most important thing to me.”

Donna nodded slowly, with a sad smile.

“I love you, (Y/N)…” she whispered in your ear.

“Me too, Donna… So much,” you said with a smile that she returned. “Now… Stay here with Angie while I pick this up and then… Well, then maybe I can prove to you the truth of my words,” you said, winking at her, making her laugh shyly. “Angie, stay with her, okay? Take care of her for me.”

“Yes, ma'am,” the doll said, gracefully climbing up her owner's body. “Hey, hey, Donna, let's play guessing games...”

Crisis over, for the moment.

Time went on and, luckily, Donna finally agreed to let you maintain the friendship that you had lost. Almost every day you met with Lydia to chat, to drink a coffee or a beer at Luiza's.

You knew that Donna wasn’t exactly happy about it, but you appreciated her apparent change of mind. Her only condition was simple: not to abandon her, not to stop caring for her, not to stop showing her that she were the most important thing for you.

Everything was going perfectly. With jealousy slightly set aside and a friendship recovered, you could say without a doubt that you were living one of the best stages of your life. But, as always, everything had to go wrong at some point.

“But who is this precious child?” you said while playing with Lydia's baby, on one of your afternoons of quiet chat. “Hello, hello, hello… Hey, he suits me, doesn't he?”

“Yeah, well,” your friend joked, shaking her head. “More or less.”

“More or less? Little Ivan adores Aunt (Y/N), doesn't he?” you said amused, making funny faces at the baby, who responded with an adorable laugh. “Look, I make him laugh.”

“It's not something complicated,” she said, looking at you fondly.

“I see, maybe I'm better at it than I thought,” you commented, giving the child back to his mother. “I don't know, maybe one day…”

“You're not thinking about…” she said, frowning. “With her?”

“Oh, no, I'm not saying that... Um, well, I'm good with kids, but I don't really want to start a family... right now...” you murmured somewhat nervously.

“I understand your doubts,” Lydia commented, with a mocking expression. “It's definitely not a good idea.”

“Hey, what do you mea...?” you said, giving her a soft punch on the shoulder.

“(Y/N), I'm glad to see you,” Igor, your friend's husband said, entering through the door.

“How are you?” you asked your old friend amused. “I was talking to your wife about how good I am with children.”

“You? I find it hard to believe,” the boy joked, greeting his wife affectionately.

“I notice a certain distrust towards me...” you said mockingly.

“No, it's just that we know you,” your friend said, causing you to stick out your tongue, amused.

“Yes, yes, very funny,” you said pretending to be annoyed, crossing your arms.

“Are you staying for dinner, (Y/N)?” Igor asked kindly.

“Dinner?” you asked, frowning and looking at a nearby clock. It was 9 pm and that time marked something you had forgotten. “Oh, shit…”

That night, precisely that night you had met Donna to have a romantic dinner since, that same day, was the anniversary of your first kiss.

Among laughs, anecdotes and memories of the past, you had forgotten.

“What's wrong?” your friend asked, alerted by the way you got up from the couch to grab your coat.

“Today I had to dinner with Donna, a romantic dinner… Shit, shit, I had completely forgotten…” you said regretfully, sighing and closing your eyes. “I'm sorry to leave like this, but…”

“Don't worry,” they both said, watching in astonishment as you disappeared from their house almost running.

You quickly ran through the dark forest, thinking of a valid excuse for the lady in black. You knew there wasn't one, that you had failed at something so simple, that you had, for a moment, forgotten about her.

“D-Donna?” you asked timidly as you entered the mansion slowly, with your heart beating scared, too fast. “My love, I…”

The lady in black suddenly appeared with a cold look and, without saying a word, grabbed your arm, dragging you into the living room and sitting you violently in your chair.

“Donna, hey, relax, I…” you said, scared by that attitude, by the look of hatred that you saw in her eye. “L-Listen, I…”

“Eat,” she ordered you in a dark voice, pointing at your plate, illuminated by some weak candles.

“What? Honey, let me explain…” you said making reassuring gestures with your hands. “Donna…”

“Eat!” she shrieked furiously, grabbing your hand so you could take a fork and sink it into the food. “Eat!”

“Um, okay, okay,” you said, taking some pasta to your mouth, looking in fear at the deranged lady. “I-It's…”

“Do you know what this is?” Donna asked mockingly, breathing heavily. “Do you know what it is, (Y/N)?!”

“I-It's pasta with oil and garlic, right? My favorite,” you said with a cowardly smile, with a broken voice that tried to overcome the situation.

“It's cold pasta, (Y/N)!” the lady shrieked, slamming her fists on the table, making you pull your hands away in fear of being hit too. “And you know why? Because you didn't come…”

You sighed, closing your eyes and rubbing your forehead.

“I know… I, I lost track of time and…” you said, apologizing weakly, knowing that nothing you said would help. “Forgive me, Donna.”

“Forgive me, Donna,” she repeated, with an unpleasant tone. “How dare you to do that to me on our anniversary?!”

“I didn't mean to, I was with Lydia and…” you said nervously, keeping your cool.

“Of course, you were with her,” Donna hissed, bending down to look at you with a nervous, dangerous eye, speaking with an ironically melodic accent. “Did you have a good time?”

“Donna, that's enough, hey, I'm sorry, okay?” you said, slowly getting up. “I forgot about dinner, but not about you.”

“Not about me…” she hissed again, shaking her head with a sinister smile. “You forgot about me!”

“No, that's not true,” you said in your defense, adopting a slightly more confident attitude. “I made a mistake but…”

“A mistake… a mistake!” she shrieked, waving her arms, laughing in a disturbing way. “I'm a mistake to you!”

“No!” you shouted, trying, unsuccessfully, to reason with her. “You're not! I just forgot about a damn dinner, Donna!”

“It may be just a dinner to you, but you know it's important to me, you know that…” she whispered, shaking her head. “If a stupid dinner is so unimportant… You don't need to say anything else.”

“Hey, we all make mistakes, you too. I've acknowledged my fault, it's not fair that you torture me,” you said hissing, also holding the lady's cold gaze. “I've already said I'm sorry.”

“Do I make mistakes?” the lady asked, pointing at herself. “Of course, I made the mistake of letting you keep seeing that bitch...”

“Stop insulting my friend! She hasn't done anything to you!” you shouted furiously, fed up with her contempt towards Lydia, something that hadn't changed. “You're just jealous.”

“What am I supposed to do? Stay waiting like every day? Think about what the hell are you doing with that girl while I'm here alone, crying because you don't come?”

“You're selfish, Donna,” you growled, pushing away another attempt by the lady to grab you, moving away from her but hardening your tone. “Get this into your head, darling: you don’t own me.”

Donna roared in rage, kicking one of the chairs, knocking it over irremediably, making you back off again.

“Of course, of course…” she said, laughing madly. “I get it, (Y/N)… Since I'm not your owner, you think you have the freedom to fuck all the whores you find, right? Why give me explanations? I'm just… Your fucking girlfriend!”

“You're rambling again,” you whispered, shaking your head. “When you stop talking nonsense, we can talk more calmly.”

“I'm rambling, I'm rambling,” the lady gasped, clenching her fists on either side of her hips. “It's my fault for falling in love with a slut like you,” Donna growled, pushing you unpleasantly.

Ignoring that terrible insult and the tears that were beginning to form in your eyes, you took a step forward, not letting yourself be intimidated by her harsh words.

“In love? Let me doubt it,” you said mockingly, defiant again. “You are incapable of loving, Donna, you only want to possess and wow, how curious, I am not your possession, I will never be!”

“Chiudi il becco!” Donna shrieked, approaching hastily and grabbing the collar of your dress, scaring you for the first time. “Porca puttana! You are mine, (Y/N)…”

“No, I'm not, I'm your girlfriend, not your possession, get that through your head and… Donna, let me go, you're hurting me,” you protested, struggling with her grip. “Damn it…”

“Mm, maybe you're right, (Y/N),” the mad lady said, releasing your clothes in a calmer tone. “Maybe I haven't made things clear… Oh, it's my fault, (Y/N)… My fault for letting you do whatever you wanted…”

“What?” you asked, putting on your clothes.

“Mm, maybe I've been too soft with you… Maybe I should tie you to my bed to make sure you never… leave me again!”

The rage that those words provoked in you was already unbearable. The rage traveled through your veins, heating up your body until your fury came out in the form of a loud slap towards the lady in black, who turned her head at the blow, but didn't change her gaze.

“You know what, Donna? People are right, you are a dangerous lunatic, a freaking nutcase who only knows how to give nightmares, to cause pain…” you said sobbing while Donna held her bruised cheek, looking at you with a terrifying gleam. “You are stupid, Donna Beneviento, a selfish lunatic who is incapable of behaving better than a three-year-old girl and you know what? I’m fed up. I’m sick of you.”

“Hey, hey, that's enough!” Angie interrupted, comically separating you. “Hey, Donna, (Y/N), stop!”

“I hate you,” you whispered through your teeth, pushing the woman roughly. “You finally got it, honey. I'm leaving.”

“W-What?” Donna stammered blinking in confusion at your words as you hit her with your shoulder, walking without stopping towards the elevator.

Crying, but still angry, you gathered several of your stuff and put them in a backpack, making that hard and horrible decision, determined to leave the love of your life forever.

“W-Wait, wait (Y/N),” the lady said, trying to stop you from leaving, something you ignored with a haughty gesture, walking out the door. “Wait, wait, please!”

“I don't want to see you again... You're the biggest mistake of my life,” you hissed before leaving, closing the door abruptly.

“W-Well... Then...” Donna said hastily, opening the door again while you walked into the darkness. “Then leave! Don't you dare come back... or I'll kill you! “

“Mm, I should have guessed,” you commented with irony.

There weren't many places you could go. Your friend's house, the indirect cause of that terrible argument, seemed like your best option.

“I'm sorry, (Y/N),” your friend said, enduring your tears, warming your spirit with a cup of tea. “But, but I warned you...”

“I know you warned me,” you said abruptly. “Gods... Donna...”

“She can't force you to give up your life, you haven't done anything wrong, (Y/N), besides, you can stay here as long as you need,” Lydia said, rubbing your back.

“W-Well, being late for a romantic dinner is not pleasant…” the husband commented, sitting casually on one of the arms of the sofa.

“Igor,” your friend scolded. “I already knew this would end up happening. You should never have approached that woman.”

“Do you think I don't know? That I didn't know what I was getting myself into?” you asked abruptly, sobbing inconsolably. “I never thought Donna would say such horrible things…”

“People say horrible things when they're angry,” Igor commented, scratching the back of his neck.

“Hey, we're not talking to you,” she said in a brusque tone. “Don't pay attention to him.”

“No… He's right,” you said, shaking your head, burying your face in your hands. “I've also behaved like an idiot, I've said things to her that… that I don't really think.”

“She can't force you to stop seeing your friend, that's not fair, (Y/N),” Lydia said, convinced of her words, reasonable ones. “That's not right.”

“I know,” you said, nodding. “But I can't help but feel that… That I'm somewhat to blame.”

“Don't talk nonsense, I repeat: you haven't done anything wrong,” she said. “That woman is crazy, she sees enemies where there aren't and she controls you. You did well by abandoning her.”

“I know what Donna is like,” you said, looking up. “I know she's terribly jealous and that… Well, she misinterprets things but… but she's also loving, kind, romantic… she took care of me, Lydia, she really did.”

“I can't believe you're still defending her,” the girl said, sighing reluctantly. “She could have hurt you.”

“She would never hurt me,” you said, sure of your words. “She would never... Oh, I know how I sound, that I sound stupid but it's just that... Lydia, I... I love her more than anything. Her flaws are not even a shadow of her virtues. With her, I feel safe and... I don't know what I would do without her. Oh, Gods... I have to, I have to go back.”

Without saying another word, you left the house again, running towards the forest.

Yes, you were right, she was wrong but you hadn't stopped to think that you might be wrong too. Donna had always been alone. She didn't understand the concept of friendship. You, on the other hand, insisted on returning to your teenage years, leaving aside the poor lady in black.

You should have been more understanding with her and not act like you didn't care, not say those horrible things to her.

You were both guilty.

Slowly, you opened the door, finding Donna in a corner, crying inconsolably.

“Donna…” you sighed, leaving your backpack on the floor. “Donna, honey, I’m back…”

“(Y/N),” she said, getting up immediately, her face torn apart by tears. “P-Please, don't leave... Don't leave me... Please... All the things I said... I didn't want to, I shouldn't have…”

“Shh…” you whispered calmly, caressing her cheek. “I've said a lot of stupid things too. I didn't want to, really, I don't think that way.”

“Forgive me, please…” she whispered, hugging you desperately. “I-I was jealous and…”

“I know, I know darling…” you said, caressing her back, letting the lady cry on your shoulder again. “I'm to blame too… I should have understood your feelings better. But, uh, if you want, we can get over it, what do you think?”

“Y-yes, I… I won't fail you again… I love you, (Y/N)…”