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lalacliffthorne · 1 year ago

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christmas with the modern!batboys!roommates - as headcanons 💕

because there's way too much I wanna talk about to just put it into a meek lil drabble!!! and I actually can't wait for christmas now. 🎄

merry christmas ya filthy animals 🎀

it's about halfway through November when you decide on spending your Christmas at the flat

reason is the fact that all of your three roommates will, for once, also be staying for the holidays

usually, Rhys is forced into an awkward, stilted celebration with his father that mostly consists of very tense dinners, coffees and him trying to flee to his room for as much time as possible

Azriel always visits his mother, and Cassian usually either stays at the flat or visits the orphanage he spent half of his childhood in to help with the kids

but this year, Rhys' father isn't even in the country because of some business deal

Rhys jumps at the opportunity to avoid one awful holiday and decides to not go with him and instead spend christmas at the flat

Azriel's mother is seeing someone new who invited her to spend the holidays in the mountains

Az really doesn't want to be third-wheeling, so he, too, decides to stay home

(you're a bit surprised he's so unbothered about his mother dating someone new

he is quite protective of her

but then again, Az is quicker than even Mor at stalking someone on the internet

and out of all of you, has probably the best intuition when it comes to people

which means the new guy seems to have passed all the first hurdles)

Cassian doesn't let it show too much bc he doesn't want them to feel bad about how things usual go

but you can tell he's beyond happy to have them there

Mor's also staying in town and will be over for Christmas Eve

you usually always go home for the holidays

but sometimes, it's time for new traditions, right?

"Hey, can I talk to you for a second?"

Your voice rises over the sound of the movie, and with a curious look, Rhys turns it on mute before looking your way, Cassian, lounging in one of the armchairs, craning his neck to do the same when you worm yourself out of Azriel's arms where you have been curled up for the past half an hour, barely paying any attention to the TV.

You can feel Azriel's eyes on the side of your face when you grin sheepishly.

"I - I think I'm gonna stay here as well for Christmas."

Cass crunches his brows in surprise. "What about your family, don't you go home usually?"

"Yeah." Rhys grins. "Won't you be missed?"

You huff at him.

"They might come here for a few days during the holidays, but -" You shrug and grin at them. "I don't know, I feel like I want to stay here this year." You frown in thought. "Would be weird to just leave you all here."

Cassian starts grinning toothily, and just that would have convinced you that this is definitely the right decision. But then you turn your head and find Azriel staring at you, the golden spots in his eyes seeming to twinkle in the warm light, and your heart does a flip.

Yep. Definitely worth it.

and with that and the knowledge that all of you will be spending Christmas at the flat together - you decide on going all in.

everything starts with the flat.

it's your home, your place to be after all

and it deserves to be spruced up and decked to completion

which is why it becomes first thing on your big Christmas list

because the boys usually don't spend the holidays at the flat, there aren't really any decorations in storage down in the basement

so the next Saturday, you and Rhys hit the high street and every place in town needed for the perfectly decorated flat

you get fir garlands and fairylights, together with an unholy amount of candles

in a concept store next to the café where you take a much needed break around lunchtime, you find funky glass baubles

(you make sure you take the black camera and one of the motorcycles)

in another store, you find big stars made out of thick paper for the windows, even light up ones, along with stockings and some candleholders for the big dining table in the living room

(because of course there will be a ridiculous amount of food, if the way Rhys has been buried in cookbooks for the past few days is any indication)

you even get a new set of dishware

on the market, you score some big wreaths

Rhys buys mistletoe; so much of it, you're wondering whether he wants to plaster the whole house

you get ribbons and wrapping paper, festive cookie cutters, trinkets and more candles -

then, the next morning, Rhys turns up the Christmas music, and you get to decorating

because Cassian is tallest, he is tasked with anything that involves hanging things up the second he steps through the front door

fastening garlands and fairylights to the doorways, putting up the light up stars you got for the windows and the one for your room that fits its colorscheme

and hanging up the mistletoe

you place garlands over the mantle of the fireplace, together with fairy lights and candles

the window sills get the same treatment, while outside, Rhys fights with a long string of tangled lights to wrap around the balustrade of the balcony and the bushes

for safety reasons, the stockings are hanging underneath one of the windows and not above the fireplace

(you don't want any accidents involving burning stockings)

you found some pillow cases and a cozy blanket for the couches that fit the theme, and the coffee table is decorated with more candles and a wreath with bows you tied meticulously

you even set up the big dining table in the living room, with more garlands and candles and some of the baubles, and the new dishware

(you rarely use that table because you always eat in the kitchen anyway, so it can stay like that until the holidays)

the bookcases get covered in fairylights and little trinkets, the mirror gets a stole of fir

you're hanging up the biggest of the wreaths with a big red bow at the front door of the flat when Azriel comes home

the corner of his mouth kicks up when he sees you, some glitter on your face, a black bow in your hair and beaming at him

and his eyes actually twinkle a little when he sees the decorated flat

Cassian is positively buzzing with happiness when he hangs up the final wreath in the kitchen window

Rhys has hung some fir branches over the table, with some baubles and ornaments dangling from them and candles sitting on the wooden tabletop

every room smells like pine and firewood and it makes your heart skip with happiness

Rhys smirks and drops his arm onto your shoulder

"not bad, darling. not bad at all."

and with that, the festive time between decorating and the actual holidays begin

and you plan to enjoy every second

one of the first days of December, all of you embark on the most important mission of all:

finding the perfect tree

there's a pop up outdoor place selling trees a little walk away from the flat

Rhys, extravagant as usual, wants to take the huge fir tree right at the entrance

you manage to convince him that even though your apartment does have very nice high ceilings, a tree the width of both Cassian and Azriel combined would be just a little over the top

Cassian votes for a slightly crooked specimen that's about two feet taller than him

("it's got character.")

in the end, Azriel is the one who finds the perfect one

"What about that one?"

Turning at the sound of Azriel's deep, calm voice, you slip past a bickering Rhys and Cassian, and Az looks down at you when you shiver happily and slide your cold hand into his pocket, curling yourself into his side.

It's gotten really freaking cold.

Squinting, you look up at the tree you're standing in front of. It's probably a foot taller than Cass, it's branches thick and close together and it's top just the tiniest bit crooked.

"Huh." You feel a smile slowly spreading over your face, turning your head without looking away from the tree. "Hey, dumb and dumber."

Azriel snorts softly.

"Who's who?" Cassian appears next to you, crunching his nose to suppress a sneeze as he offers you his elbow to hide your freezing hand in.

"If you gotta ask,", Rhys mumbles from Azriel's other side before dodging Cassian trying to kick his shin, his nearly violet eyes twinkling when he smirks.

Not you, you mouth up at Cass and earn yourself a wide grin and a wink.

"What about that one?" Azriel threads his fingers through yours in his pocket, nodding towards the tree in front of you.

Both Cassian and Rhys tip their heads to the side in unison.

"Hm." Rhys doesn't sound as opposed as with every other tree that has crossed your way so far.

"It's big, but not too big, it's got character -" You shrug and look back and forth between them. "I think it's perfect."

"Let's check." Cassian lets go of you, and you're about to look up at him with a confused frown when strong arms wrap around your waist and lift you off your feet.

You squeak and sway and feel a deep chuckle against your back. You look up to find yourself face to face with the tree top, then you get slid back to your feet.

"Yup." Cassian straightens and pats your head. "Perfect height."

You scowl up at him.

"I mean, it's not as perfect as the first one -" Rhys gets cut off by three people groaning and snickers.

"But it's pretty close, so -"

"Thank God,", Azriel mumbles into your hair, and you giggle.

you go home with the tree and a white amaryllis that'll hopefully be in bloom by Christmas and that you want to use as centerpiece for the dining table

Cassian carries the tree like it's not a foot taller than him and probably just as heavy

that weekend, you put it up

Rhys and you bicker about the best way to detangle the ball of fairylights

by the time you're finished and turn towards the tree, Azriel holds up one end of the neatly laid out fairylights with a deadpan look

it takes some more bickering about the perfect way of wrapping the lights around the tree until the huge fir tree is twinkling from every angle

and then little by little, you distribute all the the baubles and ornaments evenly

Cassian is responsible for the top branches and you, begrudgingly, for all the ones at the bottom

the whole slightly chaotic endeavour is accompanied by the sound of Christmas music, hot chocolate and the crackling fireplace

when you're almost finished, Cassian lifts you up, completely ignoring your soft squeak, and Rhys hands you the tree topper

the golden star goes right on the top, and then you're done

that evening, you all just sit and stare at the tree

it's magnificent and slightly chaotic

really mirrors living in the flat, you think

and with the tree up, all the festive activities can truly begin

you bake gingerbread cookies, happy to huddle up in the warm kitchen as it progressively gets colder outside

you go gift shopping with Feyre and Mor, who get along like a house on fire

when Feyre drops you off at home after and helps you carry your bags upstairs, Rhys opens the door

you're pretty sure the blush in Feyre's cheeks does not stem from the cold

even as she huffs at Rhys' blatant flirting

you get dragged out for another round of gift shopping with Cassian a few days after

it ends with the two of you buying a dutch oven for Rhys and almost forgetting it on the Christmas market when you stop for mulled wine and food on the way home

since Feyre is going home for the holidays, you have a little celebration the second weekend of December

you kick the boys out of the flat for the evening

the two of you make a whole small roast, dancing around the kitchen to Christmas music and have dinner in the living room

the tree is lit, and the first presents have found their way under it, all wrapped up more or less craftfully

you watch classic christmas movies and eat on the couch

when the boys get back later that night, the both of you are so full and happy, Feyre actually beams at Rhys in passing

you think he might faint

after saying goodbye to Feyre at the door, you turn, and he still stands in the hall, looking a little dazed

when he glares at you like a silent "not a word", you grin and tackle him in a hug

he's adorable

the day after (probably in an act of revenge on Rhys' side), the both of you engage in a gingerbread house building competition in your kitchen

there's Christmas music, hot chocolate and containers and bowls with icing and dozens and dozens of different decorations spread all over the counter while you set up camp at the kitchen table

when Cass and Azriel come back from the gym and their own Christmas shopping in the late afternoon, the kitchen is absolute chaos

and Rhys and you have switched from hot chocolate to mulled wine and are slightly tipsy

both Cass and Azriel lean into the doorframe, staring at Rhys and you as you giggle and bicker, trying to kick at each other under the table

you're a little dishevelled, wearing a pair of wide pyjama pants, fuzzy socks and a loose t-shirt, your hair a mess and specks of icing all over your nose

Rhys looks equally unkempt for once, slightly flushed and violet eyes twinkling as he grins, icing on his dark t-shirt

when evening rolls around, you're completely exhausted

but both of your houses are standing

they are a bit wonky

but very pretty

complete with white icing, windows made from melted candy, roof tiles and cotton candy for smoke rising from the chimneys

Mor, who drops by that evening, acts as impartial judge and rules a tie

neither you nor Rhys really are too bothered by it

you're mostly proud they've not collapsed into heaps yet

Rhys smushes your face between his sticky hands and leaves a smacking kiss on your forehead that ends the competition before calling dibs on the first shower

and Azriel decides, when you crawl onto the couch where he's already sprawled out on the cushions and bury yourself in his chest, your body aching and feeling sticky

that even though he doesn't really care for sweets

you smelling like gingerbread and icing could make him come around to it

he doesn't say it, but when he wraps his arms around you and drags you up his body, curling around you to bury his face in your t-shirt and humming, you decide that this is definitely becoming a tradition

(even tho the next few days, Rhys and you get nauseous at just the sight of anything sweet)

the closer you get to Christmas, the more giddy you get

Azriel takes every chance he gets to crowd you under one of the many twigs of mistletoe Rhys has snuck into every possible spot in the flat and kiss you until your heart nearly gives out and your knees are jello and you can feel his lips curve against yours

to be fair, the other two don't really hold back either

Cassian has the time of his life leaving smacking kisses onto the cheeks and foreheads of whoever ends up under a sprig of mistletoe next to him

it's cause to different stages of crunched noses and huffs

from amused (Rhys) to fits of giggling (you and Mor) to grumbling (Azriel)

and Rhys likes to dramatically pretend he's about to smooch the shit out of you, sweeping you up and dipping you back and everything, causing you to break into fits of snickers and Azriel to roll his eyes

you're pretty sure to see his lips twitch tho

you go to the Christmas market a few more times

with Rhys, because he wants to sample every food that's sold there and you would never pass up a chance to eat and gossip

then with all the boys and Mor, on an icy cold evening, to look at the decorations all over the shops and drink mulled cider

it's so cold you're permantely glued to Azriel's side, your fingers laced with his in his pocket, your arm wrapped around his elbow

he lets you slide into his coat as far as possible when you're waiting for the hot beverages, his chin resting on your head when you bury your face in his chest, his lips pressing against your forehead when you peak up at him, nose pink from the cold

the way he's staring down at you makes your heart hop and swerve, and Azriel's lips twitch

then, a few days before Christmas, Mor turns up and takes you ice skating

it ends in giggles, the two of you holding onto each other and singing aloud to the Christmas music from the speakers

you get waffles and hot chocolate after and Mor drags you with her into several clothing stores because she still doesn't have an outfit for the celebrations

it's when you decide she's gonna sleep over on Christmas Eve

because the thought of her going home in the evening and then coming back on Christmas Morning is just ridiculous

and when you promise she can sleep in your bed, all by herself, Mor beams

"okay!"

(you'd be sleeping in Azriel's room anyway)

the boys don't mind

quite the opposite

Rhys actually huffs bc he didn't think of it earlier

you have Christmas movie nights, with snacks and gingerbread and hot chocolate, the tree glittering and the smell of pine making your heart skip happily

gingerbread decorating competitions

and evenings where the fire is crackling and you are curled up against Azriel on the couch, reading with his arm wrapped around your shoulder and lips absentmindedly pressing against your temple

and then the afternoon before Christmas Eve, you take advantage of having the flat all to yourself and lock yourself in your room to wrap all your presents

in the end, you're sitting on the floor, surrounded by paperscraps and bows, with sticky tape on your forehead and a small heap of presents in front of you

wrapped to the best of your abilities and carefully labelled

they go onto the growing pile of presents under the tree, and you award yourself with a bubble bath

(wrapping gifts is hard, okay?)

you got the Dutch Oven you bought for Rhys with Cassian, along with a pair of purple fuzzy socks (mostly so he stops stealing yours) and fancy pickles

the guy has weird interests

Cassian's boxing gloves have seen better days, so you and Mor got him a new pair, with his name embroidered in deep red stitching at the wrist

you also bought him a set of hair care, after he once accidentally used yours and was in awe about how soft it made his hair for a solid three days

for Mor, you found a small shop on etsy that makes custom jewellery with recycled materials

you got her a necklace with a little charm with a little deep red stone and a matching bracelet, both dainty and slim

as well as a kit for a fancy bubble bath

as for Feyre, she already got her present a few days before and now lugs it home with her

you and Mor bought her a set of fancy oil paints

you also got her two mugs

one says coffee

the other paint water

you hope it means she stops accidentally poisoning herself

as for Azriel

his gift makes your heart hop with nerves

on Christmas Eve, Mor comes over, and Rhys whips up a three course dinner

you eat in the kitchen, Mor and you occupying the couch and giggling into your wine glasses

then you move to the living room and watch Home Alone

at 11, you all suddenly feel the need to move

so you bundle up with coats and scarves and hats before piling out of the flat

outside, it's so cold, your breath rises in thick white clouds

you take a long walk around the neighbourhood, looking at the lights and decorations everywhere

some people have wrapped their outside trees and bushes in fairylights

some have hung stars that light up porches, balconies and windows

you're actually not the only ones on a walk

there are still quite a few people out, probably with the same idea as you

you walk next to Mor, your arms linked together and awing softly at the glimpses you catch at decorated living rooms and twinkling trees

Rhys and Azriel are behind you, talking quietly between themselves

and Cassian is walking a little bit ahead of you, sniffling against the cold air, ridiculously broad in his thick jacket, a hat pulled over his head and seemingly lost in thought

after a while, you let Mor fall back to the other two and catch up with him

shivering happily, you wrap your arm around his and bump your shoulder softly into his side

"you okay?"

your voice is soft, and when you look up at him, your heart does a little warm pulse

because Cassian, big, vibrant, boisterous Cassian is completely quiet and calm

he looks at the houses with the lights and the twinkling trees in the living rooms, and one corner of his lips tips up gently

"yeah."

as you're staring up at him, something's suddenly swelling in your chest, making it hard to breathe

bc for one second, the only thing you see is a very little Cassian, alone in an orphanage on Christmas

you really try not to allow the sudden pressure behind your eyes to surface

but then Cassian looks down at you and gently bumps his elbow into your side, grinning softly

"got my family."

and that pressure spills over and with it the tears as your chin wobbles and your chest aches

"duh", you press out, voice weak and trembling, and Cassian smiles, bigger and crooked

you realise what that look on his face is when he tucks you into his side and lets you bury your face in his jacket until the tears have died

complete peace.

"Hey."

The quiet, deep voice travels through you, and you shift, grumbling quietly.

There's a soft breathed smile, then warm, rough fingers brush over your cheek, and lips press against your forehead. You can feel them move when the familiar deep voice, soft and rough with sleep, vibrates through you and causes shivers to run over your spine.

"C'mon baby, wake up."

Your heart does a little skip, and the warm haze of sleep slowly slips away. You exhale slowly, then you force open your heavy eyes, and something in your chest rises in a soft flutter.

Azriel's face is only an inch away, all sharp cheekbones and soft lips and tired eyes, and something in your chest dips over at the sight of his warm amber iris dragging over your face.

"Hi,", you mumble, voice thick and raspy with sleep, and the corner of Azriel's lips tips upwards, causing your heart to rise.

With a quiet sound, you shift closer, your arms sliding over his bare shoulders as his dip and wrap around your waist, pulling you into his body until one of your legs drapes over his hip and you're completely pressed together. There's something shifting at the back of your head, keeping you from just burying your face in the warm crook of his neck and going back to sleep -

Your heart misses a beat, your eyes dart up as suddenly, a flutter builds in your chest, and Azriel's lips curve, up and up until his cheek creases.

"There it is." His voice, deep and low, husky with sleep and vibrating with a hint of amusement, sends your heart tumbling as his gaze drags over your face. Then he blinks, and something softens in his eyes, a slow twinkle growing in his iris as his gaze drags over your face. One corner of his lips curves upwards.

"Merry Christmas,", he mumbles, low, deep, and steady.

If your heart hasn't stopped before, it definitely does now, and you need a couple of seconds until it works again. Then a smile spreads over your face, slow but growing until it is ridiculously wide.

"Merry Christmas,", you whisper back, breath hitching and voice thick with sleep and something pulsing and swelling under your ribs.

The twinkle in Azriel's eyes grows; your breath hitches when he dips his head, and something tipping over in your chest when he presses his lips onto yours, warm and slow and unhurried.

He only pulls back once he coaxes a soft sound breaking from your throat. Your heart is thrumming and one corner of his lips has curved lazily as he stares at you, a few strands of hair curving over his forehead, the rest so tousled, you just can't resist burying your fingers in it as warmth spreads through your body and your hearts start fluttering as giddiness starts spreading through your chest.

Slipping your arm tighter around Azriel's neck, you pull him down to kiss him again, deeper and firmer and causing your breath to shudder and Azriel to groan softly. His hand slips under your hoodie, palm slowly roaming up your back with the softest pressure, pushing your closer.

When you pull back, breathing shakily, warmth rushing through you and gather in your cheeks, Azriel nudges his nose against yours, a soft rumble building in his chest.

"Sleeping in on Christmas morning, so rebellious,", he mumbles, and you lightly kick his shin, causing a tired smirk to spread over his face that makes your heart topple and still.

Oh.

Azriel is about to pull you back in and roll you over when suddenly, the door bursts open.

You jump, Azriel huffs and rolls his eyes, and when you crane your neck to look over your shoulder, Cassian is standing in the doorway, only wearing a pair of checkered pyjama pants, hair pulled back haphazardly and grinning wildly.

"Merry Christmas, ya filthy animals. Get your asses out here." He winks. "It's present time."

knowing that he is not going to let up, you grumble and dig yourself out of your blankets

your heart starts hopping as you pull on some pyjama pants and fuzzy socks

Cassian hugs you so tightly, you can't help but fall into a fit of giggles when he lifts you off your feet with a dramatic groan

squeezing you for a solid few seconds in which you squeeze him back with all your might, he lets you slide back to the floor and presses a kiss onto your cheek before letting you pass

Rhys and Mor are already in the living room

the giddy feeling in your chest grows when you sink into Rhys who's sitting on the back of the couch, squeezing his middle tightly and feeling him hug you to his chest, pressing a kiss onto your hair before he straightens and pats your bum

you press a sloppy kiss onto his cheek in revenge that makes his nose crinkle and a snort break from your throat

then you drop down next to Mor on the carpet

you feel like your heart is expanding to impossible sizes when she wraps you up in a ribcrushing hug and leaves kisses all over your face until you giggle

Cass and Azriel come into the living room, and Rhys hugs Azriel so tightly he huffs, but you can see the muscles in his arms straining when he hugs him back

Mor beams up at Az when sinks onto the floor behind you, squeezing her shoulder before he wraps his arms around your waist and buries his face in your neck

and you feel like you might burst

you open your presents, with the tree glittering and the fire crackling

Rhys fangirls over his pot and the pickles

Mor gets teary eyed over the jewellery and leaves more smacking kisses all over your face

and Cassian actually looks like he might be speechless when he unpacks the boxing gloves

he wraps you and Mor up in a hug so tight, you're completely smushed together

you even get a selfie from Feyre with her mugs and a deadpan look that makes you giggle for a solid minute

it's Azriel you're really watching though, as he unwraps the last gift with his name on it

you see him still for a second before he pulls out a very old camera

you feel something twitch nervously in your chest

"I - found it at an antique store. I remember you showed me a similiar one and that you said how difficult it is to find one like it today." you grin lopsidedly. "I got it repaired, it's working again."

Azriel blinks

then he raises his head, and you're pretty sure your heart just stops

because the way he is staring at you is flaring and deep and heated and burning with something that causes your breath to stop

his throat works, and he carefully slides the camera back into its case and places it on the floor

then he reaches out and drags you over the floor until you're trapped between his legs

your heart gets stuck in your throat when his arm slides around your waist

your breath falters when his hand comes up to cradle your face

and the world stills when he pulls you forward and kisses you like it's the first and last time and there's no one else in the room but you

and he doesn't need to say it

you can feel it all in the way his breath shudders when he exhales and somehow pulls you even closer, until you're flush against his chest and your arms wind around his shoulders and he kisses you harder

only Rhys clearing his throat makes you remember you're in fact not alone

something dips over in your chest, and you can feel heat wash over you when you somehow manage to break the kiss, breathing harshly as your fingers dig into Azriel's hair

you pull back a little and look at him, just to really be sure, and your heart tightens at the way he's looking at you

kinda like you're beginning and ending and everything in between

something swells in your chest, begins rising, and you can't help it

you beam at him, your heart thrumming against your ribs, and Azriel drinks it in like he's dying of thirst

you somehow manage to turn in Azriel's arms, curling into him as you stare at your friends that bicker and laugh, and your heart swells when Azriel buries his nose in your hair and holds you like he's not planning on ever letting go

after unwrapping, you have a big, fancy breakfast in the kitchen, with waffles and pancakes and eggs and bacon

you sit curled up in one corner of the couch, with Azriel behind you, chest in your back and arm wrapped around your waist

you spend the day all together

watching Christmas movies, playing boardgames

Rhys drives you all into bankruptcy at Monopoly, twice, and you beat Cassian at trivia (again)

when it gets dark in the afternoon, Rhys disappears into the kitchen, and Mor drags the rest of you to a classical Christmas concert in a church nearby

you all sit together, Azriel and Cassian flanking you and Mor, Azriel's fingers linked with yours

when you inevitably get teary eyed towards the ending, Mor squeezes your other hand and sniffles

when you get back to the flat, you're met with scents more delicious than anything you have ever smelled before

your stomach grumbles, Cassian groans, and Rhys appears in the doorway to the kitchen and grins

"to the table, please"

to say he went all in would be too little

he supplies you with a whole seven course dinner

soups, salads, a whole freaking goose, and two kinds of dessert that make your mouth water even though you already feel like you won't be eating anything until next Christmas

the whole living room is lit

the tree is twinkling, the candles are flickering and the fireplace crackling

Cassian's rambunctious laughter mixes with Mor's ringing giggles and Rhys' deep laughs, and Azriel sits next to you and grins, his arm draped over the back of your chair that he has pulled so close you can feel the side of his body pressing against yours

and you think that maybe, making new traditions was the best idea you ever had

it's really only topped by your decision to move into this flat.

@azrielshadows1nger @waytoomanyteenagefeels @secret-ly-here @knmendiola @luvmoo @azriels-mate2 @bookishbroadwaybish @maybe-a-winchester @stayinglow-exploringworlds @harrystylesfan2686 @icey--stars @ssmay123 @ailyr92

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thisgirlnamedblusy · 23 days ago

Note

Hello!! Hola! I wanted to tell you that reading your stories is often the best part of my day, I don't know what cauldron of writing magic you fell into when you were a child, but honestly I'm glad you did 😄 I also wanted to request a Donna story: when Ethan goes to Donna's house, instead of k*lling her and Angie, he only stabs and hurts her really bad, because reader saves her from him. Reader wasn't in a relationship with Donna yet, but she was secretly already infatuated with Donna and would've done anything to save her life. Reader then helps Donna throughout her painful recovery, healing her multiple physical wounds and also the emotional ones. They end up getting together ❤️ Thank you so much!!!

Yesss!!!! Thank you for you compliments, and for your request, the cauldron part made me laugh hard xD! I hope you like it and sorry about the language mistakes!!! :)))))

About to lose you

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem, maid! Reader

Warnings: Angst, fluff, Donna being Donna, mentions of blood, I've literally stabbed the canon, but I don't care...

Word count: 7,696

Summary: You can't lose her, you just can't...

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

“Oh, you're back,” you said with a kind smile, seeing that your lady had returned from the meeting.

Of course, you didn't know if there was a smile behind that black veil, or if the lady in black was looking at you or listening, but you didn't care. You were already used to sensing her expressions, even trying to guess them.

“Mm,” she murmured, turning her head and nodding slightly as she passed by you.

The always enigmatic attitude of Lady Beneviento had been stirring your feelings for longer than you would like to admit, but, like everything, you also got used to those nerves, to that slight blush on your cheeks. You hoped she wouldn't notice how obvious your behavior was.

You had been working in the mansion as a maid for several months now, but for you it had been just a sigh.

You were an ordinary girl in a not-so-ordinary village. Maid, wife or hermit, you didn't have many more options either. Escaping from that place, from the control of Mother Miranda, the Lords, and the Black Gods was something completely impossible and you knew it. Maybe a few years ago you considered taking a risk and trying to escape from that constant darkness, but it was only a fleeting thought.

You only had one life, you only had one chance to breathe, to live the best way you could, it would be absurd to end it all, run away and die, or worse, end up turned into one of the creatures that protect the place.

Completely convinced that you wouldn’t give your life to a loveless marriage, and without enough strength or skill to grow food or care for animals, being a maid was your best option for survival.

The question was: Maid for whom?

Everyone in the village knew that in the castle there was always room for girls like you, always. That was a truth, a disturbing fact. Many of your friends never returned from that place, those who did, never recovered. Risking working in the castle would be like risking leaving the village.

You only had one option, something that no one had dared to do, approach through the forest to the mansion that seemed abandoned, test the rumors that said no one returned from that place, and offer yourself to be a maid for the lady in black, the doll maker, Donna Beneviento.

Lord, yes, adopted daughter of Mother Miranda, too, but a truly strange woman. Few people had been lucky, or unlucky enough to see that black shadow walking, perhaps at masses.

A woman covered by a black veil, always accompanied by a sinister living doll, a quiet, mysterious, dangerous woman... that was her.

No one knew many things about her, and the ones that were known weren’t exactly good. Daughter of a noble family, descendant of one of the founders of the village, Donna Beneviento was barely a shadow of what they once really were. Her family disappeared due to madness, she stayed.

The Black Gods saw something in her important enough to take pity on that young lady, and let her live forever, wrapped in the arms of the supreme priestess.

Her story was tragic, sad and unfair, but as you walked to the mansion, you tried to forget about it. You would work as a maid. It didn't matter too much for whom.

The lady was wary of you at first, or so her withdrawn attitude and the teasing of the Angie doll told you, but finally, she accepted.

You became the only maid who lived in that place, the silent companion of Lady Beneviento.

It was true that she was strange, that the madness that accompanied her family had also hurt her. She was a sick, disturbed woman, reluctant to contact, to words, and even to show her face.

You never saw what was behind that veil, not even as her maid. Over time, you began to wonder if that portrait on the stairs had anything to do with the dark lady. If so, well… she was the most beautiful woman you’ve ever seen.

Donna wasn’t abrupt, but she wasn’t kind either. She would pronounce a few words or simple orders for you to carry out and you always thought you would have to settle for that. Little by little, the lady left her shyness aside, forming complete sentences or even conversations.

The tranquility you lived by her side gave you the privilege of distracting yourself, of entertaining and enjoying your free time. It might seem like a good job, an enviable one, but, when there was no cleaning, laundry or cooking to do, your head began to wander aimlessly, forcing you to focus your thoughts on her, always on Donna.

Of course, you never gave importance to that perhaps exaggerated affection you were beginning to feel. If you did, you were sure it would stop being just affection.

Every day, every night, you asked yourself the same questions, more and more frequently: What does Donna think of me? Does she like me being her maid? Why do I like being her maid so much?

You had to stop thinking about such things, or you would go crazy.

The lady in black walked silently to her desk, dropping into the chair and leaving something on the table, something shiny. You approached with a gentle step, your gaze fixed on the floor. You knew she didn't like your eyes searching hers, trying to interpret them.

“Has everything gone well, Donna?” you asked quietly, briefly catching her attention.

You will always find that contradiction curious. Donna didn't seem to be entirely comfortable with your presence, but still, she hated when you didn't call her by her name. That woman was herself a contradiction. You had no reason to be surprised.

“Yes,” she whispered, looking at that mysterious jar.

You walked around the desk, your gaze fixed on that yellow glow, arching your eyebrows.

“What’s this?” you asked curiously, leaning over the desk. “Is it a…?”

“What’s this, what’s this?!” a shrill voice screamed almost in your ear, making you recoil with a knot in your chest.

“Ugh, Angie…” you sighed, breathing hard, enduring the puppet's mockery and laughter, which were always directed towards you. “Don't yell…”

“Don't tell me what to do, you silly maid,” the doll said, with a cocky pose, also climbing onto the desk.

“D-Donna, what is…?” you asked in a lower tone, standing behind the lady and looking over her shoulder.

“It's none of your business,” the woman in black whispered, looking at you briefly, making her veil dance for your pleasure, revealing part of her pale skin, her black hair that gave her away as the woman in the portrait.

“Oh, right, I'm sorry,” you said, regretful for your blatant curiosity, bowing politely.

“Don't be sorry. It's better that you don't know, (Y/N),” the lady said, subtly looking away.

“O-Okay, you're right,” you said in a low voice, looking at the shiny jar out of the corner of your eye. “How was the meeting?”

Donna simply shrugged, telling you that she didn't seem to feel like talking, to no one's surprise.

“It’s a very cold day,” you said shivering, walking to the fireplace that you lit previously, rubbing your hands.

“Mm,” she murmured, without taking her eyes off that shiny jar.

“Maybe you'd like something warm,” you suggested, approaching the desk again and, involuntarily, making a gesture you had become dangerously accustomed to: reaching out your hand towards hers. “Oh, Donna, your hands are freezing,” you said with a worried expression, warming one of her soft hands with yours.

She was never bothered by your slightly daring attitude, by you touching her from time to time in an almost maternal way. You were always that way, and besides, you had become a bit addicted to those soft hands...

The lady cleared her throat, maintaining contact for a few more seconds before shyly moving her hand away.

“Um, yes,” she murmured, somewhat nervous about your annoying proximity.

“Well, I have a remedy for that,” you said with a smile as bright as that jar. “How about I make you some tea?”

“Mm, yes, tea,” she said with a hoarse voice, with a whisper full of discomfort at your proximity.

“Perfect,” you said, placing a hand on her shoulder. “The Duke brought a new batch of artisanal teas yesterday, I think they are the ones made by the Petrescu family,” you commented, absentmindedly placing some things on the shelves, making sure, as always, that everything was perfect for your lady.

“I don't care,” Donna whispered, with a tired sigh. “Bring me a tea, will you?”

“Right away, Donna,” you said with your usual cheerfulness, nodding elegantly. “With lemon and no sugar?”

“Yes, grazie, (Y/N),” she said, turning her gaze towards you. “Angie, go with her, I need a moment.”

“Me, with the maid?!” the doll protested.

“Yes, come on, go away, leave me alone,” the lady said, gesturing towards the puppet, who followed you muttering something, something that weren't exactly nice words.

Already in the kitchen, you prepared that hot drink under the intense gaze of the doll, who sat on the counter, but, miraculously, didn't bother you too much.

“Is Donna okay?” you asked casually, seeing something strange in the lady's behavior, seeing a certain… concern. “It's not normal for her to get rid of you.”

“I think she's a bit nervous,” Angie said, with a shrill but calm voice, watching how the hot water mixed with the infusion. “Maybe it's because you're unable to keep your mouth shut, silly.”

You laughed, rolling your eyes and leaning on the counter, thoughtful.

“If she didn’t like the way I am, I think I wouldn't be here anymore, would I?” you said amused, shaking your head.

“Don't have any doubts, maid,” Angie said, pointing at you with her wooden finger.

“Why is she nervous? Has something happened?” you asked curiously, frowning, remembering that mysterious jar.

“Well, actually... bah, you're not interested,” Angie said, looking away, with a gesture that told you it wouldn't be difficult to get information out of her. “You must take care of my Donna and she'll take care of her business, maid, don't overstep your duties.”

“Worrying about her is my duty,” you commented, arching your eyebrows. “If there's anything I can do to...”

“Yes, to shut up, you're a pain,” Angie cut you off, making you roll your eyes again.

“How curious, she's never asked me to shut up,” you joked, checking the water. “Oh, the tea is ready.”

“Because she doesn't dare to do it, that's what I'm here for,” the doll said, pointing at herself. “Donna is a coward.”

“Really?” you asked with a petulant tone and an intense look. “I find it hard to believe.”

“Believe me, I know her, she can't even tell you…” the puppet commented, catching your attention. “Bah, I don't know what I'm doing talking to you, maid.” she said hurriedly, lowering the counter and fleeing the kitchen, as if she had said something she shouldn't.

You laughed tenderly as you served the tea, walking slowly out of the kitchen, intrigued by Angie's words, but forgetting about them for a moment. You had all night to fantasize about the lady's feelings, now you were working.

“Here you go, Donna,” you said in a velvety voice, leaving the tea tray on the desk and taking the opportunity to glance at that shiny jar.

It looked like a simple jar, it could contain anything, but on the side, on a label, there was a slightly disturbing inscription.

Rose.W Legs

You blinked several times, trying to interpret its contents, hoping it wasn't literally what it said, shaking your head. Looking away from the jar, you moved your eyes to the lady in black, who was standing in front of the fireplace, warming her hands.

The villagers had always said terrible things about her, but you... you didn't think that way. Living with Lady Beneviento made you discover feelings, but also change your mind about truths that seemed immovable. That woman wasn’t a monster. She seemed human, very human.

“Are you okay?” you asked due the heavy silence, one that wasn’t usual in a situation like that.

“Mm? Oh, yes, of course,” Donna whispered distractedly, moving her head towards you and approaching the desk again. “The tea smells different…”

“Yes, my bad,” you said amused, moving away a cup that was for you. “I gave it a personal touch with raspberry aroma. I-I know… I know you like it,” you murmured, blowing on your cup.

“You are very thoughtful, (Y/N),” the lady commented, making the same gesture with her cup. “Come, sit with me.”

“S-Sure,” you said somewhat nervous at that strange proposal, accompanying your lady to a pair of armchairs near the fire.

In silence, without Angie interrupting that warm moment, you both drank the tea. Normally it would be a special situation for you, one you would think about before sleeping, imagining a thousand ways to approach Donna. At this point in your life, it was already absurd to deny that… well, that you felt something more than pure affection for her.

But that time there was a different feeling, a heavy tension that pressed your shoulders down, an unusual atmosphere of concern.

Donna sighed, leaving the now empty cup on a nearby table, staring at the fireplace, and then, briefly, at you.

“(Y/N), I have a question for you,” she said in a hoarse voice, with a thick accent that betrayed nervousness. “You don’t have to answer, but I would like you to.”

“A question?” you asked somewhat surprised, choking comically on your tea. “Of course, Donna.”

“Mm,” she murmured thoughtfully, with the flames of the fireplace reflecting on what you could see of her face, dancing on her skin in a sinister way. “Tell me, if you could get out of this place… would you do it?”

“What?” you asked confused, shaking your head, tea shaking in your hands. “Oh, well, I…”

“I'm not going to judge you,” she said, lowering her gaze and playing with her hands.

“Yes, well… Let's see… the truth is that a sinister, cold village is not the place a girl like me dreams about,” you said, unsure of being honest, nervous about that out of context question. “But I can't complain.”

“Explain yourself,” your lady demanded, looking at you again.

“Well, I've heard amazing things about the outside world, but… I just don't need the outside world. The Gods have been kind to me and besides… I have a comfortable job, one that I enjoy,” you said, with the blush on your cheeks appearing to give you away.

“Do you like working for me? Don't talk nonsense,” Donna said, with an accusatory tone.

“Actually, I do,” you said with a lower voice. “You're not like people say.”

“Mm,” she murmured, not wanting to say anything else, relaxing in the armchair, her gaze fixed on the fireplace. “(Y/N), if I gave you the chance to leave right now, to flee from this village... would you do it?”

“No,” you answered without giving it importance, letting your feelings speak for you. “I don't want to leave. I-I-I'm fine with you, Donna.”

“You're fine with me,” she said, shaking her head, with a shy laugh. “You're dumber than I thought.”

“If I'm dumb for wanting to stay with you, I guess you're right,” you said with a serious tone, finishing your tea with trembling hands. “Sorry, Donna, but... what are these questions about?”

The lady looked at you and sighed again, making a strange gesture.

“It's nothing,” she whispered with a tone that revealed a big lie. “You... Will you stay with me? No matter what?”

“No matter what? What do you mean?” you asked, somewhat worried.

Donna shook her head again, nervous, erratic.

“Forget it, (Y/N), I'd better work on my dolls,” Donna said with a tired murmur, getting up from the armchair.

“W-Wait, Donna,” you said, interrupting her steps, causing her black veil to dance again. “Yes, I would stay with you no matter what, I'm your maid.”

“Mm,” she murmured, nodding slightly. “I like you being my maid.”

That was the last conversation you had with her that night. The lady in black didn't have dinner, she simply disappeared, surely tired, or working tirelessly on her dolls. You knew something was up, something that wasn't good. Donna had never asked such strange questions, and the matter of that mysterious jar…

You couldn't sleep that night. There was something that worried you, something you couldn't guess and that made you nervous. A new day would put an end to it, or so you thought. If you thought carefully, you could see that it wasn't the first time Donna had behaved strangely, especially before a terrible crisis.

There was no screaming, crying or hitting, so that possibility was unfounded. No, it wasn't the lady's madness or the voices in her head, no, it was something else and you weren’t sure if you really wanted to know.

The next morning started off calm and routine. Making breakfast, cleaning the house a bit… These were chores that distracted you from your thoughts and worries. Donna didn't come up to breakfast, she didn't show up, not even Angie seemed to want to make fun of you and make your work harder.

Something strange was definitely going on.

The sound of heels on wood alerted you as you were cleaning a piece of furniture, making you frown.

“(Y/N)!” the veiled lady shrieked, desperately looking for you. ��(Y/N)! Dove sei!?”

“Donna,” you said, coming out of the corner you were cleaning, seeing in front of you the woman in black, with that horrible jar in her hand. “I-I'm here, what's wrong?”

“Oh, meno male…” she said, walking hastily towards you and roughly grabbing your arm, digging her nails into your skin as she dragged you towards the hall.

“Donna, what's going on? Y-You're hurting me,” you said, hissing in pain from her grip, but letting yourself be dragged along. “Donna?”

“Listen to me, you have to listen to me,” she said nervously, letting you go and putting her hands on your shoulders. “Do you hear me? Tell me you're listening to me!”

“Yes,” you said nervously, somewhat scared by her shaky voice, by her abrupt and senseless attitude. “Yes…”

“Here,” Donna said, handing you that shiny jar quickly, almost making you drop it. “Listen carefully, (Y/N), I want you to take this and go up to the attic.”

“The attic? D-Donna, I don't understand anything,” you said, shaking your head, with your heart beating very fast.

“Do what I tell you!” she yelled furiously, trying to calm herself down. “Do it, per favore…”

“I-I… it’s, it’s okay,” you said nodding, holding the jar tightly in your arms.

“Go up to the attic and hide there, did you hear me? No matter what happens, no matter what you hear… Don’t come down! Don’t come out! Is that clear?” the lady asked hastily, shaking you. “Is that clear!?”

“Y-Yes,” you stammered, nodding nervously.

Donna sighed looking around, removing her hands from your shoulders. In one of them there was another smaller object, it looked like… a syringe.

“Don’t move,” she whispered, uncapping the needle and, without saying another word, sticking it into your neck, emptying the contents.

“Ouch!” you squealed due to the prick and the fear you were feeling. “What was that!? What's going on, Donna!?”

“Sì… tutto bene…” she whispered to herself, moving your eyelids with her fingers, as if she were searching for something in your eyes. “Now, (Y/N), go to the attic and stay there, stay there, do you hear me?”

You nodded, noticing how her hand went down your cheek, in something terribly similar to a caress, a caress that you joined your hand to, almost crying.

“(Y/N)… I would have liked… to tell you so many things…” she whispered in a calmer tone.

“Donna… what's going on?” you asked with a nervous sob, with your body shaking, but without noticing any strange effect due to that injection. “Donna… no…”

“Go,” Donna whispered. “Vai … Vai!” she shrieked when she saw you weren't moving, pointing at the stairs.

You, scared and confused, obeyed your mistress's order, running up the stairs with the jar in your hand and going up to the attic, observing the hall through one of the cracks in the old wooden floor.

The lady moved nervously from one side to the other, next to her doll. The silence was drowned out by the sound of her heels. You were scared, disoriented, your neck hurt and what was worse; you didn't know what was happening.

Donna suddenly ran until she disappeared from your sight.

“What...?” you murmured, staring at the crack. “What's going on?” you asked yourself, tightly gripping the jar with your hands.

Shortly after, the sound of the front door opening was heard, and someone appeared, slowly entering the mansion. It was a man you had never seen before, with blond hair and clothes that definitely had nothing to do with a villager. He was confused and walked slowly through the mansion… he even carried… something in his hand, it looked like a gun.

When he raised his head to look up, you intuitively stepped back, hugging the jar. That man was looking for something, it was clear… maybe for the jar?

“Mia?” he asked, loudly, echoing off the walls of the mansion. “Mia, are you there?”

“Gods…” you whispered, watching how, unfortunately, he also disappeared from your sight.

He was calling someone, but you had never heard that name before, you didn't know why he did it and then you realized.

You ran a hand over your sore neck, remembering the puncture. That man must have been hallucinating thanks to Donna's powers and the influence of the pollen of the yellow flowers. You had already become accustomed to them, and according to the lady in black, they were harmless if she didn’t exert a certain power over them.

As you could tell from those erratic movements, that man was indeed being caught up in Donna's hallucinations, but you mysteriously weren’t. You came to a hasty conclusion. Maybe the syringe the lady stuck in your neck contained some kind of antidote to make you immune to her influence.

It was quite likely, since everything around you seemed normal, you weren’t hallucinating.

Time went by terribly slowly. Every second seemed like an eternity, the sinister silence of the mansion didn’t help at all. Every now and then, you heard something like a distant scream, surely coming from the basement since you had heard the elevator going down.

Your heart was beating furiously, impatient to know what was happening, urging your mind and body to disobey Donna and get down from the attic. With your patience exhausted and fear covering every inch of your skin, you finally decided to do it.

Slowly, without making any noise, you descended the ladder of the trapdoor, always carrying the jar with you. There was no one in the hall, and you couldn't hear anything. With all the subtlety the wood allowed you, you went down the stairs one by one, walking towards the door that separated the room from the rest of the house.

Breathing with difficulty, trying to step on the carpets so as not to make noise, you approached the door, poking your head through the frame. In the living room, nervous but still, was Donna, playing with her hands, with the Angie doll at her feet, as if she were waiting for something.

You hid again, watching from time to time in case something changed. It didn't seem to. More seconds, minutes... The lady didn't move but her body trembled and you did the same, peeking discreetly.

The metallic sound of the elevator put you on alert again, making a lump form in your throat, watching the living room.

From the hallway came that blond man, disoriented, as if he had, or was living, the worst nightmare of his life. He froze when he saw Lady Beneviento, moving slowly, cautiously towards her.

“Don't leave, I can't let you,” Donna whispered, with a dark and terrifying voice, moving her hand to lift Angie into the air, who began to laugh sinisterly, as always.

“Oh, still alive, huh? You better find me…” the doll said, walking quickly towards the man, who fell to the floor, being attacked by something invisible. “Find me…” Angie hissed, moving away from him and running back to her owner, who picked her up in her arms, running past the intruder.

“Hey, wait!” he shrieked, moving his arms and getting up from the floor, running towards the lady.

“No, no…” you murmured, putting a hand over your mouth, seeing that this invader was carrying scissors in his hand while he searched for the lady around the room.

The man moved around, desperately searching for whatever he was looking at while Donna dodged him, seeming completely invisible to his eyes.

After a few tense moments, the man reached out his hand, managing to reach the black fabric of Donna's dress, pulling it.

“I got you!” he shouted victoriously, stabbing the scissors into the lady's stomach, making her scream in pain.

“Gods…” you said shocked by what you were seeing, completely paralyzed “No… no…”

With one hand on her wound, the doll maker managed to get away from the erratic attacks of the intruder, walking towards you.

You snuck away in fear, hiding in what served as a storage room and suppressing the desire to help Donna, an almost irresistible desire.

The lady slowly climbed the stairs, moaning in pain, leaving a bloody mark on the wall she was leaning against. It was a terrible sight, you couldn't even be completely sure you weren't hallucinating.

The man also climbed the stairs and you couldn't see what happened, but you heard another terrible cry of pain coming from your lady, who appeared even more injured, with a terrible wound on her chest.

Slowly, barely able to stand, she went down the stairs, stumbling and rolling down them until she fell to the floor. Her hands, Angie… Everything was red, covered in blood, her blood.

The man followed her, bewildered, as she crawled along the floor, leaving a red mark on the wood. You couldn't stay there, you had to do something, quickly.

Before you could get out of your hiding place, the man lunged at Donna raising the scissors, about to stab her head while she writhed under his body, moaning, crying in pain and despair.

You couldn't stay there.

“No!” you screamed, leaving the room and lunging at the man just before he dealt Donna the last stab, a fatal one, no doubt. “No, Donna!” you screamed again, knocking the intruder down with a hard blow, throwing him to the floor.

He struggled with you, but something in his gaze suddenly changed, getting up scared.

“W-What...?” he muttered, shaking his head, raising his bloody hands, unable to take his eyes off the lady lying on the floor. “God... what have I done?”

“Donna, Donna…” you said hurriedly, crouching down next to the lady and lifting her body, placing it on your lap.

“(Y/N)…” she whispered, looking at you through her dislodged veil, with an agonized moan.

“Shhh…” you whispered, keeping your hands on the wound on her chest, trying to stop it from bleeding. “Oh, Gods, Gods…”

“Hey!” the man shouted, grabbing your shoulder to turn you around. “What's going on here?”

“Let me go!” you yelled furiously, protecting Donna in your arms and looking at the jar you had dropped on the floor. “Is that what you want? Huh? Then take it and leave!” you screamed furiously.

The man put his hands on his head, nodding and dropping the scissors, lunging angrily towards the jar and running out the mansion.

“Donna… my Donna, please,” you said desperately at the moans of the lady, overwhelmed by her serious wounds, not being able to control them. “There is so much blood… Gods… Angie!”

The doll suddenly appeared with a clumsier than usual step, kneeling in front of her owner.

“(Y/N)…” Donna whispered, slowly raising her hand, a bloody hand. “(Y/N)…”

“Shhh, don't talk, don't talk,” you said desperately, taking off the handkerchief you always wore around your neck and putting it on her wounds. “I-It's nothing, you'll see… I… I'll save you…”

“Per favore…” she whispered, almost without voice. “Ascoltami, per favore…” she insisted, letting her hand fall due to lack of strength.

“Yes, I’m listening, Donna…” you said with tears in your eyes, with your handkerchief wet with blood, with the end that was approaching.

“H-Help me… to… to take this off…” she murmured with her voice broken by pain, weak, almost imperceptible, vaguely pointing to her veil, messy due the fight. “Per favore…”

“The veil?” you asked, pressing her wounds hard, desperate. She nodded slowly, coughing, with a thread of blood coming out of her visible lips.

“Per favore…” Donna insisted, grabbing your dress with a non-existent strength, with fury in her words, with impatience. “I want… I want you to see me… just as I am…”

“It's okay,” you said nervously, stopping pressing and moving the black fabric until it fell to the floor.

You wish it had been another time, you wish you had discovered that beautiful woman before, before losing her irremediably.

“You’re beautiful,” you whispered, bringing your stained hand to her untouched cheek, running your fingers over her skin, taking in every detail of her one eye, the scar that caused her to always wear that horrible veil. “Oh, Donna…”

“That's better…” the lady sighed, moving her hand up to yours, weakly running it over your cheek. “Y-You haven't had luck with me, have you?”

“Don't say that… N-Nothing's wrong… I'm here with you. I told you that no matter what happened, I'd be with you, Donna,” you said nervously, squeezing her shaking hand tightly. “Gods… we have to do something… stop the bleeding…”

“No,” she said, relaxing her body. “You can't… you can't do anything for me… just… just go, come on… leave me here and try to live a normal life, far away from here.”

“Shut up,” you said furiously, hitting the floor with your fists. “I don't want a normal life, I don't want a life… without, without you,” you said sobbing, giving soft slaps to her cheek because her eye was slowly closing. “No, Donna, don't fall asleep… look at me, please…”

The lady, who could no longer stay awake, smiled. It was a melancholic smile that pierced your heart.

“(Y/N)…” she hissed, giving in to that deep sleep. “Ho… ho freddo…”

“A-Are y-you cold?” you asked as her hand fell to the floor, moving away from your skin. “No, no… Angie, get something, anything!”

“Y-Y-Yes, r-ri-ght-aw-ay…” the doll tried to say. She couldn't speak clearly and suddenly fell to the floor as well. “I-I c-can't… mo-mo-mo-ve…”

“Angie? Angie!?” you yelled as you saw how the doll collapsed, motionless, losing consciousness. That was terrible, but even more terrible was its meaning: Donna was dying.

“No… No… No… No… No!” you screamed, seeing that the lady didn’t react to your touch anymore, she was inert. “No, Donna! Donna…” you whispered with tears traveling down your cheeks, bringing her motionless head closer to yours, caressing her forehead with yours. “No…”

The hand you were holding, that already dead hand, began to crack, making you panic, it seemed as if her body was beginning to disintegrate.

“No! No, please!” you cried desperately. “No! No…!” you stopped screaming when you felt a hand on your shoulder, a hand you didn't know was there.

You looked sideways, scared, seeing how, standing next to you, was the village priestess, the powerful and dangerous Mother Miranda.

Glancing at you briefly but expressionlessly, she crouched down beside you, placing a hand on the dead lady's chest, muttering something.

The cracked hand you were holding shifted, making those ugly cracks disappear under Miranda's focused gaze. That horrible look disappeared from Donna’s skin as you blinked in confusion.

The lady in black opened her eye for a moment, as if she had just revived. Her gaze went to you, but before you could rejoice, she lost consciousness again, but in a different way. Her chest rose and fell slowly, she was alive.

“Mm, I guess the worst is over,” Miranda murmured, not paying attention to you, checking the condition of the Lord. “Hey, you, you are her maid, right?”

“Yes,” you sighed, kneeling on the floor, smearing your face with her blood as you ran your hands through your hair. “I…”

“What are you waiting for?” the blonde asked, picking Donna up from the floor, carrying her in her arms. “Bandages, alcohol and wet towels, now.” she ordered coldly, carrying the unconscious lady to a sofa.

“Yes,” you said, nodding and obeying immediately, glancing sideways at Angie, who, fortunately, had also revived, although she seemed confused.

You quickly grabbed everything you needed. You were so nervous that you didn't have time to be scared or to fear Miranda's presence. After all, she had save Donna.

“Come,” the witch ordered, leaving Donna on a nearby couch, running a hand over her wounds. “Her dress, take it off, now.”

You nodded, bending down and slowly starting to undress your mistress, getting her blood all over you again, unable to think clearly. One by one you undid the buttons on her blouse, carefully removing the sleeves and leaving her wounded chest exposed. The doll maker looked just like one of her dolls, lifeless.

“That's it...” you murmured, leaving the lady lying down again, now without her blouse and her skirt.

The wounds were horrible, fatal if it wasn't who she was, or if Miranda hadn't arrived in time.

“Do you know how to sew, girl?” Miranda asked passing a towel over Donna’s wounds passively, as if her adopted daughter's life wasn't at stake.

“Yes, Mother Miranda,” you said nervously, while she cleaned the wounds.

With a sinister laugh, Miranda rummaged through a briefcase, taking out a surgical needle and thread.

“Then sew,” she said, handing you the objects in an unpleasant manner. “Think of it as it were a cloth.”

“What? N-No, I can't do this…” you said, shaking your head, overwhelmed by the situation.

“Mm, then don't do it and Donna will die…” the witch said, with a mocking tone. “I have a lot of work keeping her stable. I suppose you don't want to be ungrateful, do you?”

“No, Mother Miranda,” you said, shaking your head, looking away from the woman. “I will try…”

“You will,” she said, with a dark smile, while your trembling hands approached Donna.

Slowly, controlling your nerves, you managed to sew the two stab wounds clumsily, but effectively, or so the priestess's gestures told you.

“Mm, what a mess,” she commented, shaking her head while you cut the thread. “You are a pretty useless maid.”

“I have never done this,” you protested her words, while her golden claws ran over the seams, causing them to close on their own, at least a bit.

“That’s obvious,” Miranda murmured. “Mm, well, I suppose it will do. Bandage, maid, bandage her wounds.”

“Right away,” you said nervously, checking that Donna, your Donna, was still breathing.

After those tense and unpleasant moments, the priestess took Donna to her bed, leaving her there in an unpleasant manner. You, seeing those somewhat rough manners, hurried to move her body and put it under the sheets, covering her lovingly, caressing her hair.

“Everything is going to be okay, Donna…” you whispered in her ear, sitting on the mattress and grabbing her limp hand, squeezing it tightly in yours. “I'm here with you…”

“How sweet, Donna never told me she had a girlfriend,” Miranda commented, letting herself fall into a nearby chair with a mocking gesture.

You couldn't help but smile, shaking your head.

“No, I… I'm just her maid,” you murmured, without stopping caressing the lady, faithfully accompanied by Angie, who, mysteriously, didn't say a single word, simply snuggled up to her owner.

“I see,” the priestess said, looking at her claws with disinterest.

“Mother Miranda,” you said in a low, cautious tone. “That man…”

“Ethan Winters,” she finished. “Don't worry about him. I've already made sure he doesn't bother us anymore.”

“Who was he?” you asked, looking at the lady, who moved unconsciously, probably due to the pain.

“Mm, no one that was you business, maid,” she said amused. “Ah... I guess Rose wasn't the right one, after all.”

“Rose?” you asked curiously.

“You ask a lot of questions, girl,” she said annoyed, to which you lowered your head. “Just take care of Donna, mm? I'm sure I can trust you, right?”

“Of course, Mother Miranda,” you said with a firm voice.

“I assumed so,” she sighed, getting up from the chair and checking the condition of the youngest Lord for the last time. “If she wakes up and gets nervous or has a crisis, inject her with this,” she told you, handing you a syringe. “Relax, it's just a sedative... surely you know that it's easy for Donna to lose her mind.”

“Okay,” you said, taking the object and leaving it on the bedside table. “Is there something she should know? If she wakes up…” you asked again.

“Mm, well, she's probably worried about her siblings. Tell her that they're okay. That Winters vermin made the mistake of coming here first… how predictable…” Miranda muttered. “And above all… don’t let her open her wounds, oh, and change the bandage, if the wounds get infected… none of this will have served any purpose.”

“Yes, Mother Miranda,” you said, without paying any more attention to her

She gave you one last intriguing look and disappeared from the bedroom. Hours passed, you didn’t know how many, a time that seemed eternal while you watched the unconscious lady, while you caressed her in silence, praying for her to open her eye.

She didn’t. Donna slept all day and all night. Of course you listened to Miranda’s advice, and you took care of her even forgetting about yourself. You didn’t know how much time had passed, in that place it was difficult to tell, but you didn’t move from there, not until her hand, which you held relentlessly, began to move.

“Mm…” a hoarse murmur caught your attention and you woke up from that kind of light sleep you were living in.

“Donna, Donna…” you said nervously, watching as she moved in pain, trying to get up. “No, no, Donna, don't get up, you'll open your wounds.”

“(Y/N)?” she asked confused. “Oh, cazzo…” she complained as she moved, lying back down on the bed with an agonizing moan.

“Don't move… that's it…” you said, lowering her body and covering it with the sheets. “Calm down, calm down…”

“I-I… what am I doing here?” Donna asked tiredly, looking at her bandaged body. “(Y/N), I… died…”

“No, no Donna. Mother Miranda saved you just in time,” you explained in a calm voice, running a hand through her hair, across her forehead, which had started to sweat.

“Mother Miranda?” she asked, hissing in pain. “Oh no… No, no!”

“D-Donna… what's wrong?” you asked, scared by her abrupt reaction. “Are you feeling sick? Do you need to go to the bathroom?”

“I’ve failed! She trusted me and I've failed her!” the lady shrieked, moving dangerously, hitting the mattress with her hands.

“Shh, no, no… don't do that… you, you'll hurt yourself,” you said nervously, controlling her movements, watching her bandage. “Donna, please…”

“I had to protect Rose, and I’ve failed!” she shrieked again, pushing you unpleasantly.

The Angie doll moved, comically hiding behind you, fleeing from the irrational fury of her owner.

“Donna,” the puppet said. “Listen to (Y/N)…”

“Sono una stupida!” Donna shrieked, changing anger into desperate crying, covering her head with her hands. “Stupida, stupida, stupida!”

“No, that's enough,” you said, grabbing her wrists, truly scared “Donna, no!”

“Get away!” she screamed, pushing you to the floor and getting out of the bed, almost tripping in the process, doubling over herself. “I-I have to help them… he’s going after them…”

“Donna, please,” you said, getting up from the floor and holding her shoulders, watching as her wounds began to bleed again. “You can’t move, please…”

“Lasciami!” she shrieked, pushing you away again. “They need me!”

“They’re okay, Donna, your siblings are okay, Mother Miranda said that…” you said, trying to reason with her.

The lady looked at you with a fiery eye, falling to the floor after a cry of pain, grabbing her stomach with her hands.

“Donna!” you screamed, bending down to help her. “Please… t-they’re okay, it’s all over…”

“What do you want, (Y/N)?” she hissed, holding your gaze. “You’re with him, right? You did this to me!” she shouted angrily, growling and lunging at you, her hands around your throat.

“No, it's not true! Donna, please!” you cried, unable to move in case you hurt her more, desperately searching for something on the nightstand.

“Bad Donna, she didn't do anything!” Angie screamed, adding a little more to the chaos that had formed.

“Angie…” you said with a choked voice. “Angie, the syringe…”

“Right,” the doll said, bringing you the sedative, which you immediately stuck into the brunette's neck.

“You bitch!” Donna yelled, putting a hand on her neck. “You will pay…! You will pay for… for this,” she said, losing her voice, collapsing on top of you, completely sedated.

“Gods…” you said with her unconscious body in your arms, looking at Angie with fear. “Gods, Donna. A-Angie, help me to get her into bed.”

They were especially difficult days, but, luckily, Donna calmed down, making your care even easier. Little by little, her physical wounds were healing, but the emotional ones were still very present.

The lady in black spent a whole week without speaking to you, until that day.

“That's it… slowly,” you said, while you calmly gave her some soup, almost as if you were feeding a child. “Is it too hot?”

Donna shook her head, making her hair, now loose, move hypnotically.

“Okay… Hey, you look really beautiful with your hair like that, you should let it down more often,” you said amused, checking the bandage condition. “Look, you're not bleeding anymore, Donna, you're better.”

“You could have left,” she whispered for the first time, getting your attention, making the spoon you were holding tremble in your hand.

“What are you talking about? Come on, just one more…” you said in a loving voice, bringing the soup closer to her mouth, soup that she rejected with a childish grunt. “Donna… don't be… Ugh…”

“Why didn't you leave?” she asked, making you desperate but sigh and leave the plate on the table.

“I told you I didn't want to leave,” you whispered, cleaning her maternally with a napkin. “Do you want a yogurt?”

“I want answers, (Y/N),” Donna demanded, with a dangerous look. “Mother Miranda managed to deal with the problem, but… what if she hadn’t?”

“What do you mean?” you asked, absentmindedly fixing her hair, holding her intense gaze.

“Things could have gone much worse, I could have died, me, my siblings, even Mother Miranda…” Donna murmured, looking away. “There was no point in staying here.”

“For me, there was,” you whispered, with a sad look, arranging the sheets. “I’m your maid.”

“Maid… Ha…” she murmured, shaking her head with a mocking smile. “How long are you going to use that stupid excuse? You don’t owe me anything. No one in this fucking village owes us anything, (Y/N)… Why do you insist on staying?”

“Because of you,” you said with a dry voice and wet eyes. “I care about you, Donna.”

“Mm, what stupidity, I don’t care about you,” she said in a childish way, turning her head but looking at you out of the corner of her eye.

You laughed at that behavior and shook your head.

“Really? Oh, well… I think you asked me to take off your veil… what it was like… so I could see what you were really like,” you mocked, settling yourself on the mattress.

“Nonsense, I was dying,” she said, with a proud look.

“Yes, maybe it’s nonsense…” you sighed, picking up the tray. “You should rest. I will come in a while to heal you, okay?”

“(Y/N),” she said, with a cold, but different tone. “Why do you insist so much on making me believe that you care about me?”

“Because I care about you,” you said, not ending the conversation, sitting back down. “More than you think…”

“It was a lie,” the lady said out of the blue, making you blink confused and frown. “Actually… I care about you, (Y/N).”

“I know,” you whispered with a tender smile, one that she returned. “I know, Donna…”

“I didn't want to tell you because… I knew that if I did, you would never leave,” she commented distractedly, looking at you out of the corner of her eye. “But… I don't just care about you, (Y/N)…”

“Donna…” you sighed nervously.

“I think… I think I love you,” she whispered in a barely audible voice, playing with the sheets.

“You love me…” you repeated incredulously while she nodded. “Is that why you wanted me to leave? Because you love me?”

“Yes, I… I…” she said, confused too, nervous. “I didn't want someone like you… to have to go through this. I wanted you to be happy, (Y/N).”

You, a bit disoriented, but sure, approached her, softly placing your lips on hers, leaving her speechless, with her eye wide open.

“Mm, well you… you must focus on recover, okay?” you said nervously, fluffing her pillow. “When you're feeling better maybe… maybe you'd like to try to be happy with me…”

“(Y/N),” Donna said, moving her hand to yours as you got out of bed, regretting your involuntary act. “I don't want to wait… kiss me again, please…”

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

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invisible-lint · 6 months ago

Text

Fixing Spring: Chapter 1

Tamlin x Reader

Summary: You had left Spring when it fell. Now you're back to kick a certain High Lord's butt into doing something about it

Warnings: none

Word Count: 1k

You walk through the Spring orchard, looking for Tamlin. You had left when Spring fell, managing to find your brother Lucien in Velaris and taking refuge there. But Velaris was never going to be your home. Perhaps because after so many years spent in eternal spring, winter was miserable. Or perhaps you had grown tired of listening to the way they spoke about your friend, despite having the same flaws they criticized. So you left to head home, or the closest thing you have to one at the very least.

You see him up ahead, in beast form and roll your eyes. You had noticed him before he noticed you, either he’s given up, or he’s gotten sloppy. You pick up a fallen apple, chucking it at Tamlin, ignoring his growl. "Do you intend to roam as a beast feeling sorry for yourself forever, or do you intend to do something about it? So Feyre left you, all but set Spring on fire. Wallowing isn't going to do anything to fix it."

"Is this supposed to make me feel better?"

You chuck another apple at him, this time he dodges it and you grin. "No, I'm telling you you need to get your shit together and stop being a baby. You're High Lord. Fucking act like it."

"But Feyre-"

"Oh cut the shit. Feyre may have done some damage, but you gave up and that's why things are the way they are now." He just stares at you, not used to anyone talking to him that way, not even you. But you had bitten your tongue for years and you were done holding back.

"So are you going to do something about it?"

"I'm not sure where to start..."

"Well I think shifting back to a form with two legs would be a good start. And a bath. You smell like a wild animal." He shifts, still giving you an incredulous look.

"Good. What condition is the manor in?" You start walking in that direction. He grimaces, but follows. "That bad? Well then, I suppose that's the next step, after a bath. We'll need a room for each of us, the study, kitchen and dining room. The rest of it can wait until later."

"We'll?"

You roll your eyes at him. "Clearly you can't be left to your own devices. So yes, I'm staying and helping."

"Why?"

"No clue. It's completely against my better judgment, believe me. Maybe it's because the Night Court is pissing me off and I know this is the one place they wouldn't look for me. Maybe it's because Spring is the only thing standing between the humans and the rest of Prythian and you refuse to get your shit together. Or because I feel drawn back here for some reason." You shrug.

"The Night Court is pissing you off?"

"I don't want to talk about it. If I did, I would have stayed in Night and dealt with it." He raises an eyebrow, but doesn’t press.

Not long after, the manor comes into sight. "Cauldron boil me, Tamlin. You sure did a number on this place. We have our work cut out for us."

You get to work, and between the magic you both posses, you manage to get two bedrooms and the kitchen clean enough by the evening time.

"Luckily, I had the foresight to bring food with me when I left. It'll be enough for a few days, but we shouldn't rely on it for that long."

"I can go hunting tomorrow."

"Good. I can forage. Until this place is able to house a staff, we take turns cooking." He nods, uncertain why he keeps letting you tell him what to do. For some reason, he doesn't mind it, almost enjoys it, actually. You hand him a plate of bread, cheese and dried meat for dinner. "We'll have to chop wood too. There isn't any to build a fire with."

"You'll want extra blankets tonight then."

"I think I'll be fine. Can't be worse than the Illyrian Mountains." You wrinkle your nose at the memory of how cold that had been.

"No, I suppose it can't."

The two of you eat in silence for a few minutes until you notice him staring at you.

"What?"

"You have cobwebs in your hair."

"Seems like I'll need a bath too then. Please tell me the hot water comes from magic and not fire." He laughs, and you're surprised at how much you had missed the sound.

"You're in luck, it comes from magic."

"Thank the Mother. Cold baths might have been the thing that made me leave." Tamlin laughs again, but something in his gut twists at the thought of you leaving. He brushes it off as not wanting to be alone again.

"We should get some rest. We have some long days ahead of us."

“That we do. I’m going to teach you how to properly apologize.”

“I know how to apologize.”

“Really? Do you think there’s anything you might need to say to me then?”

“I’m sorry?”

You close your eyes for a moment, begging the Mother to grant you the patience you need. “Are you asking or telling me?”

He clenches his fists, clearly annoyed. “Telling. I’m sorry.”

“Mhm. And what are you sorry for?”

“Being a prick?”

You snort out a laugh. “This is why I’m teaching you how to apologize properly.”

He grumbles, but doesn’t argue, too busy trying not to smile at your laughter. He hadn’t realized how much he had missed that sound, missed you. Something stirs in his chest at the realization, but he ignores it. You had already left him once. Eventually he’d do something or say something and you’d leave him again. He was destined to be alone, hells, after all he’d done, he probably deserved it.

You watch him think, wonder where his mind is going. If you were going to fix Spring, you would have to fix Tamlin. You certainly have your work cut out for you.

A/N: Requests are open so feel free to send them in!

divider by @tsunami-of-tears

#tamlin x reader #acotar #acotar fic #acotar fanfiction #acotar imagine #acotar x reader #acotar x you #imagine #maasverse #fanfiction

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campbenji · 1 month ago

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jwct s2 thoughts after first watch (spoilers under the cut!!!):

ok.... look, i'm just gonna say it: i put my expectations too high for this season and i ended up slightly disappointed. it's not a bad season or anything of the sort, but i guess i just didn't enjoy it as much as i did s1.

individual thoughts now, starting with the good:

-brooklynn. she's always been the camper i ignore most because i've never been able to connect with her but HOLY SHIT they really changed that this season. i desperately need to know what's going through her head, i'm so glad we got to see a good part of her pov from before and after the attack, and how she's adapting to losing her arm. i can't wait to see where she's going after that finale, the stakes went off the roof fr

-THE ANIMATION??? THE WET HAIR, THE RAIN, THE DINOSAURS LOOKED MAJESTIC, THE WAY YOU CAN ACTUALLY SEE THE CHARACTERS TREMBLING NOW IT'S SO BEAUTIFUL

-ben's arc. the amount of stress i felt for him he was going through it </3. the moment i realized he always wanted to tell them broke my heart, he knew it was a huge thing and tried to be careful with how he revealed it but never got the chance. i really wanted them to address other things about him but this will have to do

-episode 7 seems to be the best episode in every season now. yaz getting a solo adventure was something i didn't expect, and it was interesting to see how another one of their own going missing affected the group.

-kenji being reckless and putting himself in danger for other i dreamed and feared of times like these i shit you not. this was his entire arc in a jwcc s4 rewrite i made, i've been waiting for this for so long. it didn't go exactly like i wanted but i still found it interesting

-BEN AND KENJI SCENES BEN AND KENJI HEART TO HEART I'M QUITE LITERALLY SHAKING. that was the best part of the season actually (heavy /hj btw). them finally getting to open up to each other, the gyrosphere callback, them bickering around in the last few episodes, and the fight?? i really hope they're setting up a good continuation for that next season, i need more moments with them

-kenji taking care of speckles (bumpy's egg) so much throughout the season was lovely, he's such a proud father omg. the day that egg hatches is gonna be the happiest day of his life

-loved to see more of ronnie, it was kind of obvious that it was her who saved brooklynn and talked to her through dark jurassic but it was nice to have it confirmed

-it's still so weird to me to have a recurring cast who isn't just the villains, but i'm growing quite fond of them

-the blind baryonyx from episode 9 sent chills down my spine, my sister and i were fucking terrified. i would've loved to see more of it

-THAT FINALE HAS ME DEVASTATED. brooklynn giving them the egg, i hate that everyone was right about "i'm not the same brooklynn you knew", i have no idea if they're coming back from this one because what the fuck

now to the not so good stuff...

-darius felt, and oh my god i hate to say it, sidelined. again. so much of the season was centered around others that even crucial moments like him realizing brooklynn is alive were underwhelming. there was barely any followup to his issues from s1, it felt like he didn't even have an arc this season, he was just there.

-they dragged a lot of stuff in the middle of the season. i can't pinpoint it exactly but everything from the a plot in episodes 4 to 7 is a blur in my head.

-there was nothing about sammy either. it's still heavily implied that she's on bad terms with her family (her crying when aminata hugs her and her almost sibling-like bond with zayna), but she just doesn't get to talk?? about anything??? i'm so tired

-although i really liked her character, i feel like they could've done so much with zayna?? they had this girl joining them on the adventure who's around the same age as them when they got stranded, and did... nothing about it. sammy mentioned her age, but that was it. with how much they doubted her knowledge sometimes, it would've been interesting to see darius approaching her and making sure she's heard, with him being the youngest in jwcc and whatnot. the group making sure zayna didn't have as bad of an experience as they did could've been a great subplot.

-i DESPISED the dinostar flashback scene and everything they added to it. i needed to be convinced on dinostar, not completely drawn away from the ship! the implication that brooklynn was with darius ONE WEEK and darius was already head over heels when he wasn't before is insane; of course she wasn't ready for a relationship, SHE BROKE UP WITH KENJI LESS THAN A MONTH BEFORE WTF. anyways canon unrequited dinostar is out long live fanon qpr dinostar

-atp i hope they don't make dinostar canon or set brookenji back together, they should all be single for a while after everything that's gone down, although i can't help but be a little mad because then why make darius go through that, the grief was strong enough as purely platonic

-where was the handler. i'm not even obsessed with her and i missed her

-i think it was slightly obvious that soyona was going to be the broker so i'm a little confused as to why the promo made such a fuss about it, but anyway

-dr. sarr was wasted potential, those creations were insane and admitting to having fed the rest of the crew to the baryonyx felt straight out of a horror novel. that was some good horror stuff and then it got all thrown away in one episode.

-something i noticed a lot is that, even if there were barely no clips, they still revealed a lot about the season from just the trailer. half the trailer came from the last three episodes and there was a lot of spotlight to things that in the end didn't amount much to the plot (*cough* the DLN *cough*). i feel like that may be one of the reasons i didn't enjoy this season as much

that's pretty much it, sorry for being a hater about it but I had a lot of mixed feelings that i needed to get out. it's still not the worst season ever, it would take something truly awful to defeat s4 in my heart, but it's definitely in the lower middle.

#that got so long #i'm not sure if i'll rewatch #then again s1 was awesome so the bar was quite high for this season #c rambles about jwcc #jwct #jwct s2 #jwct s2 spoilers #chaos theory spoilers #chaos theory #jurassic world chaos theory

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vasito-de-leche · 10 months ago

Note

Could we have some Zima relationship headcanons :]

;R1999 ZIMA - Relationship Headcanons

Compilation of headcanons about Zima in a romantic relationship.

ofc you can nonnie, ty for the request! Zima was the other character that got me into the game so he's very dear to me

also also, I'm not sick anymore so I have some steam to work on requests, hehe <3 still working on the sleepy fics though, don't worry yall!

I haven't done a proper analysis/HCs post on Zima yet, so as usual I'll be talking a little about his character before getting into the whole relationship aspect of things!

The portrayal of Zima as a stereotypical, shy introvert feels extremely reductive to me, especially when it's all attributed to his speech pattern - the pauses, the stuttering... None of it is an indication of timidness. We have to remember that Zima's native language, like many other characters, is not english and he struggles when speaking it. That's the reason he speaks in such a way, there's a language barrier he's constantly fighting against in order to communicate with others and yet he's clearly trying.

There's an emphasis on loneliness, isolation and avoidance in his character that is impossible to ignore, which seems to add to the whole portrayal of Zima as a "shy baby". But again, this is something that comes from an important part of his life - the exile he went through. Him being socially inept is a result of a punishment, years of being alone with no one but animals to keep him company. It doesn't come from a sense of inferiority or insecurity such as Charlie, but an absolute lack of human contact.

When examining his voicelines, we also see that he's opinionated - criticizing the Tsar and the poor living conditions of the people, speaking of the beauty of nature and so on and so forth. He explicitly writes poems on any surface like trees, rocks and snow, even if he knows they'll be washed away overtime.

I understand that it's extremely easy to dismiss Zima when it comes to romance because of all of these details, his isolating ways and all, but he's a poet first and foremost.

While he may not be romantic in the more traditional sense we're used to, he's extremely insightful and takes a lot of care to appreciate the small details that often go overlooked, but that make life feel more lively and rich. In the context of relationships, given his age and his lifestyle, Zima would bring a completely different type of vibe - for comparison, most of the characters I talked about already lean towards high emotions, the fun of discovering love for the first time, etc etc...

Pavia's love is a whole rollercoaster on his own because there's always the chance of either getting hurt or having the time of your life, Forget Me Not's feels exactly like being hungover in the morning. But Zima's love is more like coming home after a long trip, knowing there's a warm meal waiting for you. It's familiar and calm.

On the subject of Zima falling in love.

Zima is used to introspection, so I genuinely believe he has a strong sense of self and a good grasp on his emotions. He quickly realizes when he's fallen for someone and he accepts it easily, despite the lack of romantic interactions in his life. This is because the object of his affections is, most likely, someone he already cherishes, and who puts the effort into maintaining a good friendship with him - so the idea of being in love with them feels natural!

I can't see Zima pursuing romantic relationships with strangers and/or those outside his close circle, not even a surface attraction beyond artistic appreciation for someone's looks. He strikes me as the type who can only fall in love with those he trusts and knows.

And even then, his behaviour wouldn't change much!

It's obvious that he lacks friends, so the very few people he does have are extremely important to him - even so, Zima does not need to constantly orbit around them and will gladly spend days (and weeks if you don't actively seek him out) without seeing them, content to catch up with them whenever their paths cross. He shares what little he has to offer with everyone, practical things and knowledge. Zima is 100% that friend who disappears for months and returns as if nothing happened.

When it comes to you, it's the same. Sure, if you ask him to stay a little longer then he'll oblige you. And if you're the chatty type or find his work interesting, then he'll put the effort into having a conversation with you despite the language barrier. But that's about it, the changes aren't noticeable no matter how much he loves you, because all of that happens when no one is looking.

If you happen to stroll around in the wilderness, getting lost in the forest and all, then you might find your name carved on trees along with many, many poems. If you don't speak or read russian, then all you'll be able to recognize is your name - the very first thing Zima taught you in his native tongue - but these are all declarations of love.

The animals are kinder to you, curious even. They follow and treat you like an old friend, as if they knew you, because everything they've heard from you comes from Zima himself. They speak about everything and anything with him, after all.

Zima lacks the initiative to confess or even consider being in a proper relationship with you - I insist, he's genuinely content with being a close friend - but he also lacks the restraint to keep his feelings to himself and thus puts them on display in the only way he knows how: as a poorly kept secret between himself and the nature that surrounds him.

Not many think of him as a romantic because of how stoic he is, but when Zima is in love, he sees you in every flower, in the snowflakes that fall and kiss his nose. You're the gentle summer breeze and the crystal clear rivers once winter ends. You're right there beside him in spirit when he sees little chicks take flight for the first time, or when all the other forest critters wake up after hibernating. Zima finds beauty in every aspect of nature, and he sees you everywhere he looks.

That said, there's no way he'll take the first step. That's entirely up to you, to pick up all these things and confront him about it - that's the only time he'll be open and direct about his feelings. Because you already know how much you mean to him!

Zima would love to teach you his native language.

This is partially me projecting because english isn't my native language either, but I do like to think that Zima's english is all self-taught. He understands when others speak english, but isn't as fluent when speaking himself. And that's why it's sooo infuriating and frustrating for him, as a creative person and poet.

Not only because it's harder to communicate with others, but because his work and poems - the most important part of himself - can't be fully understood. Therefore HE can't be fully understood. Some translations, while good, can't even come close to their original meaning. As his partner, Zima wants you to understand the full depth of his affections and thoughts.

I do think that the process of learning would also be quite organic, starting with Zima simply pointing out at things and teaching you the way they're named in russian, basic stuff he does unconsciously. If you pick up things on your own from his work and his translations, Zima will be over the moon and would ask you to repeat yourself to make sure your pronunciation is right and because he loves the way his language sounds with your accent.

But if you approach and ask him to properly teach you? He's gone, instantly overwhelmed with emotion and thoughts racing in his head, trying to organize a million different things - what would be the best way to teach you? Should he start with the alphabet? You want to learn this brand new language to understand him better, that simple gesture is a huge deal for him.

Once you have a pretty good grasp on the language, at least enough to have basic conversations with him, it will feel like Zima has gotten a little bolder - addressing you with pet names, being generally more blunt and talkative... But in fact, he's just finally able to express himself in his totality.

This also goes the other way around - Zima would love to learn your own native language, whether it's english or something else. It's yet another language he can use to express himself, so it's a win-win. And I know that it's common for us multilingual people to start confusing and mixing all the languages we speak, but I think Zima would have an easy time keeping them apart, so to speak!

On the subject of Zima and how he acts when he's in a relationship.

You two were close friends before you were lovers, so Zima doesn't feel any sort of pressure to live up to some dating standards like fancy dates, gifts or grandiose displays of affections - once again, it's all about what feels natural. You two know each other more than enough to simply fall into a comfortable routine that works out for both.

He does make the effort to drop by more often, to find a middle ground until he feels more comfortable and used to being around large groups of people. But he would also insist that you accompany for his walks in search of inspiration for his work!

When it comes to showing affection, I think Zima might be a little touchstarved - casual physical contact such as someone hugging or patting him on the back as a greeting still catch him by surprise, but affectionate gestures with those he trusts and loves is a novelty that leaves Zima starry-eyed.

He has a lot of things that he needs to slowly get used to again now that he's not exiled in the middle of the woods, but having you shower him with affection is something that he grows to like rather quickly. When you pet him, pepper his face with kisses, hold his hand when walking or hug him - it doesn't matter, Zima will always stand there, fascinated with the way you make him feel, so very warm and safe.

He would appreciate a warning before being touched, and he always makes sure to ask before initiating anything himself - it doesn't matter how many times you tell him that you're fine with this sort of contact, he's going to ask for permission anyway. Just out of politeness. Personal space is important, after all.

I think Zima would try to stick to a routine he can follow without overwhelming himself, especially if you're the type to need more attention (again, Zima will literally disappear for weeks if left to his own devices). It's more of a short list of things he needs to remember to do before the day is over, the two most important ones being greeting you in the morning and wishing you goodnight.

As for more general aspects of a relationship, I don't think there's much to say! Arguments with him rarely happen because he's patient and careful with his words, he communicates his needs and boundaries as well as he respects yours and all. Zima isn't that talkative, but his more "eccentric" traits are something you're probably used to on account of that initial bond and trust.

#reverse 1999 #reverse: 1999 #reverse 1999 x reader #reverse 1999 headcanons #reverse 1999 zima #basically zima is emotionally mature and responsible so hes OBJECTIVELY the safest option out of all guys if youre looking for a partner #the worst thing that can happen is that he just forgets to tell you that he needs time alone to cool off and he disappears for 2 weeks #BUT YOU KNEW THAT WHEN YOU SIGNED UP TO BE HIS BUDDY SO ITS FINE #i got very fluffy with this one bc i love him so much okay no one look t me #hes not a baby hes a grown ass man!!!! but hes so cute!!!!! and i wanna kiss him!!!!!!!!#i wanna do a post analyzing him and all but my god. i dont know nearly enough abt russian history to even GO there

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slay00ryu · 18 days ago

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HI I JUST READ THE ANGEL X ED!READER GRRRR

Can you possibly write one with Ronin? ( If you don’t, I understand! It’s a very heavy topic, either way! Thank you for even considering <3! )

Devil to the rescue.

»»————-　♡　————-««

tw! - eating disorders - picking on skin - self hate

»»————-　♡　————-««

Stuffing your face.

That's the only thing you seem to be good at. Every time you get lost in your work and then one stressful event happens you're just eating so much that you're practically throwing up.

This time was no different. You had zero idea for your new story, the reports you had to edit and send to your boss were piling up and a certain serial killer was a little busier than usual.

You coughed after the sandwich you just practically swallowed in one bite almost didn't go through your esophagus.

"Fuck." You mumbled when the feeling of unstoppable hunger didn't fade. "There's nothing in my fridge." You stood up and grabbed your front door keys. "Guess I have to go grocery shopping."

You didn't hate going out, but you hated the amount of restaurants you passed on a day like this. You had to stuff your face or you would pick on your skin again and you barely managed to let your fingertips heal. Really seeing them all bloody and swollen didn't make you feel any better.

When you got out of the door, you almost bumped into someone.

"Woah, you're so quick to go and buy food, huh darlin'?" The voice you knew so well reached your ears and your hunger was replaced with a mixture of shock and excitement.

"Ronin?" You asked and looked at his face. There was no blood on him so he didn't return from a fresh kill. "Why are you here?"

"What? Can't pay a visit to my baby now?" That shit-eating grin was glued to his face right now and you just rolled your eyes at the sight.

"As if." You mumbled. "Wait. How did you know where I was going?" You asked him after the realisation hit you.

"I was watching you, your every move and habit. Something didn't feel right with you and you weren't spilling your guts about it." He took a strand of your hair between his fingers and played with it. "Eating disorders, huh?"

"What? No, i'm healthy!" You didn't want to accept the problem.

You knew that it was there, but you didn't want to name it. The thought of having problems with something as easy and basic like eating made you feel shame. Especially when your version of said disorder was rather unpopular. Most people spoke about not eating or eating very little, but you? You could go a few days without eating and then eat like some starved animal.

It made you feel like you were the epitome of gluttony in a human form. You could only devour food like some wild beast during the bad days. That wasn't bad right? Eating because of stress. A lot of people have that and no one calls them out on having a disorder!

"Healthy my ass, as much as I would love to argue with you, this time you have to bear it and accept it. You're suffering love. Binge eating is a thing and it's serious." He crossed his arms over his chest.

You looked at the ground in shame.

"Hey. It's not something to be ashamed of." He lifted your head with his fingers under your chin. "I will help you. Didn't spend all that time watchin' you jus' to leave you because of some disorder you have." He shrugged.

"Yeah, you're even more fucked up than I am." He chuckled.

"And you loved me for it."

»»————-　♡　————-««

#killer chat #killer chat ronin #gender neutral reader #fluff #eating disoder trigger warning

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terresdebrume · 6 months ago

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"You can put your things here if you want."

Niko, who was trying and failing to find a free spot on the bench that lines up the dance studio, turns to the newcomer with a grateful sigh.

"Thank you," she says, "I didn't want to put my things on a stranger's bag and make them think I'm rude."

The man who approached her smiles. He has nice, dark eyes and dark skin, a long curved nose, and the sort of smile that never fails to put Niko at ease. She doesn't how to ask what his name is, so she sets her eyes on the golden hoop dangling from his left ear and waits. It only takes him a beat to say:

"Oh, I'm Charles, by the way."

"I'm Niko. And now we're no longer strangers."

She turns and puts her bright blue bag over Charles' well worn black one, then turns back around and makes her way to where the rest of the participants have already gathered in a circle. At first, Niko can't see Ashley, but it's only takes a few seconds to find her on the opposite side of the room, happily chatting with one of the older men.

Niko hesitates. Ashley is the only reason she's even here: there are too many people here for her to ever spontaneously join, and she knows nothing about dancing. Even when she listens to her favorite music at home and there's no one to see her dance, she rarely dares to do more than shake her hands a little. She looks around, discomfited, as the teacher asks everyone to form a circle around the studio and Ashley stays next to the older man, but before she has the time to worry about being on her own, Charles appears by her side with a smile.

"Hi again," he says, and Niko doesn't know him, but right now his face is the most familiar after Ashley's, and she is grateful for her presence. She nods at him, although she can't make herself smile, and he asks: "Is this your first time?"

"Yes," Niko says. Then, the words tumbling out of her: "I'm nervous because I followed my friend here but now she's making new friends and I have no idea what to do."

"Oh, I think we'll start with Road Map," Charles says with a nod towards the painter's tape on the floor that divides the studio into quarters. "The Boss will ask us a question, then assign an answer to each section, and you'll move to the one that applies to you."

Niko nods. This is a simple game, with simple rules, and no one is asking her to dance yet, which is just ast well. She can handle this first activity without too much trouble, she's sure. That is: she's sure of it, until something occurs to her.

"What happens if none of the answers fit you?" She asks, trying to keep her voice low as the teacher explains the rules of the game to the rest of the group.

"Then you either pick the closest answer or you stay in the middle," Charles says.

Niko nods again. Charles is wearing dance sneakers, she notices then. Someone drew tiny ghosts and skulls in white lines on the black fabric, and Niko almost smiles. Somehow, the sight of those quirky little faces makes her feel a little less like the odd one out with her sparkly blue shoes. She keeps looking at Charles' shoes while the teacher asks people to pick between ice cream flavors. Niko moves into the vanilla square with one of the three elderly women, a boy who can't be older than seventeen, and a person who went out of her way to look neither male nor female. When Niko looks up to confirm Ashley joined the strawberry square, she finds Charles standing in the middle of the studio on his own.

"Mr. Rowland," the teacher says with the tone of someone rolling their eyes a little bit, "may I ask why you didn't join the caramel and butter square?"

"You didn't say if it was salted or not," Charles says with a shrug and a grin that makes Niko chuckle. "That's an important point to specify, Boss."

A few people smile or even laugh at Charles' answer, and Niko thinks the room feels a little less tense after that. The next questions are about favorite animals (Niko goes to the 'cats' square, opposite Charles' 'dogs'), favorite color (Niko's is pink, Charles stays in the middle again for turquoise) and how spicy people like their food (Niko goes to the 'mildly' suare, and Charles goes to the 'very spicy' square with three other people). Then the teacher asks how many country everyone lived in, and Niko is alone in the 'three' square, with Charles next to her in the 'two' square.

"Can I asked where you lived?" Charles asks when they go back to the outskirts of the dancefloor to wait for the next activity.

"Japan, the US, and here," Niko says.

Charles looks like he's going to say something but then the teacher, a red-haired woman with a strong scottish accent and impeccable posture, announces the next activity. This time, they are supposed to find as many movements to do as there are syllables in their full names. Niko is grateful that she has no middle name and terrified by the exercise all at once. Well, there are other steps in the middle, but once they've gone through A-nu-mi-ta Mar-lowe, A-shley Wil-son and Charles Row-land, it's Niko's turn. She feels like she might explode every time she claps her hands as she introduces herself as Ni-ko Sa-sa-ki, and then there are only two other people after her before they are all instructed to turn away from the circle and start practicing their moves.

Niko's name is five syllables, and she has no idea how she's going to come up with five whole moves! A glance to her left shows E-ri-ca Ngo-si has a similar issue, which is a little reassuring. To the right, however, Charles is stretching his arms over his head, seemingly unconcerned. Niko can't help staring.

"Are you not going to do the exercise?"

"I already did," Charles says with a wink. "It's my third session here, and we always do that game. I've got it down pat by now."

"Oh, you're lucky," Niko says with a sigh. "I have no idea what to do. I don't know how to dance yet!"

"It's okay," Charles tells her with another one of his smiles. "We're going to play the game again, you know. If you don't like your movements very much, you can always change them."

"I really don't want to get it wrong," Niko says, frowning.

"I promise you can't. There's no wrong answer there."

Niko nods, because she understands that. The issue is that if there is no wrong answer, then there is also no correct answer, which is more stressful to deal with. Still, she wants to follow the instructions correctly, and that means coming up with something. It takes her a few minutes of thinking to figure out the impression she wants to give, but in the end she decides to start by fingerspelling Niko with a small bounce, then three sparkle hands for the syllables of 'Sasaki'. It's a good thing she's doing this exercise in England, she thinks. In Japan, she would have had to start with the sparkle hands and end with the more muted gestures, as if she started out bubbly and calmed down over time, which is the oposite of truth.

Eventually, they go around the circle. Ashley does the robot for her gestures, and everyone learns her movement and her name in no time. When Charles' turn comes, with his bold Indian dance moves, it takes Niko a couple of tries to get it right, but she doesn't give up, and in the end she is the one who replicates his gestures the best. Then she shares her name and her dance movement, expecting her turn to go like everyone else's. Instead, before anyone can repeat her name, Charles asks:

"Was that fingerspelling?"

"Yes," Niko says, wondering if she's meant to apologize for not picking an actual dance move, but before she can do that, Charles exclaims:

"Aces! Show me again?"

Niko does, a smile overtaking her face beyond her control. She likes Charles, she decides. Likes that he went out of his way to help her, likes the easy way with which he accepted her questions, likes his enthusiasm in the face of something that doesn't technicaly quite fit the assignment they were given. She likes him even more during the next activity, when they have to consider a whole list of things about dancing and he explains a bunch of them to Niko, with demonstrations when needed. And by the time the teacher shows them their first, very simple dance step and Charles makes silly faces to make her laugh, Niko is decided to attend the next class, whether Ashley enjoyed herself or not.

This snippet takes place in the I'm down on my knees universe and will eventually be cleaned up and posted on AO3 x)

#Dead Boy Detectives #Niko Sasaki #Charles Rowland #DBDA Fanfic #S: I'm down on my knees #Matt writes #This isn't fully a dancer!Charles AU bc the series has a broader focus and actually starts in St. Hilarion #but I guess this snippet makes it not NOT a dancer!Charles AU xD #20n #30n

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autumn-foxfire · 5 months ago

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You know what. I'm petty.

"...Shinichi, you haven't spoken in a while," Ran noticed. She had also noticed he had stopped smiling awhile ago too.

Shinichi looked up from his drink, a simple coffee with some sugar and cream, and gave Ran one of those half-hearted smiles that one usually gives to another when they're upset but they don't want the person to pry.

"I've got nothing to talk about," he answered, as blunt and brutal with his words as always, "Not anything you want to listen to, anyway."

Ran was about to open her mouth to protest but the words died in her throat. It wasn't long ago she had told Shinichi to shut up about Holmes and she hadn't been too kind about it either, screaming it in front of a crowd of people. She remembered how some people had snickered at them. And how Shinichi had stopped talking soon after.

She took the time to study his expression and found she didn't like what she saw. Shinichi was looking out the window, his eyes tracing the people who walked past. They would sometimes light up in interesting and his mouth would part like he was about to share what he had seen, but he would quickly close it as a shadow of dejection shaded his features and he went back to his silent activity.

Ran's chest twisted with painful sadness. She had caused this.

"Shinichi..." she whispered, her voice hesitant and fragile, "About earlier-"

"It's fine." Shinichi quickly interrupted. He turned to Ran and gave her another one of those sad smiles, "I should have noticed you weren't interested and stopped sooner instead of speaking your ears off-"

"It's not!" She snapped and instantly regretted it because that same look, the one she had seen from him earlier when she had shouted at him that resembled a wounded animal, once again graced Shinichi's face and she hated it.

"It's not," she said in a much calmer tone, "I upset you and I'm sorry."

Shinichi looked like he didn't know how to respond and it made Ran wonder how often he was told to shut up when he was sharing what he liked with others. How often she had told him to do so.

"You weren't interested," Shinichi repeated, a fake laugh in his tone, "I don't blame you for telling me to shut up, many people-" he cut himself off and looked away.

"I'm sorry, Shinichi," Ran repeated because she knew he needed to hear it, "I might not be as interested in Holmes as you are but that doesn't mean I can't listen to you talk about him, if that's what makes you happy."

It hurt. It hurt so much to see how confused he looked at hearing her say that. She wanted to kick herself. She wasn't particularly all that interested in listening to Sonoko talk about all the boys she's into and how she's going to get them to fall for her but she had never treated her like she does Shinichi. She knew Sonoko would be hurt by it if she did, and she always looked so happy to tell Ran her new ideas. How had she never realised Shinichi was the same? She's been a pretty bad friend to him, hasn't she. She needs to make it up to him.

"You like to people watch, don't you?" she asked, "So what can you tell me about that woman on the bench?"

Shinichi looked hesistant to speak his ideas so in encouragement, Ran did it first, "I think she's on a date! She keeps looking at her watch as if she's waiting for someone."

With another uncertain flicker in his eyes, Shinichi began to share his deduction, "I think she's a business woman. She's dressed too professionally for a date and it looks like she's got some folders in her bag-"

After a few rounds of deducing the lives of strangers, the forlorn look had faded from Shinichi's eyes, as did his earlier hesistance. She even got into the game herself, having fun noticing the things Shinichi missed due to their different perceptions, grinning at the compliments Shinichi gave her in return when she did. And as the sun set and they made their ways home, she thinks she understands Shinichi a little more than she had before, now that she was actually listening to him.

Tomorrow, she decided, she'll drag him to a martial arts tournament she's been planning to watch. Hopefully she can share more about herself with Shinichi too.

#foxy's writing #dcmk #detective conan #shinichi kudo #ran mouri #please don't tag this as the ship if you reblog #writing the friendship they deserve #also the last paragraph is to reference that shinichi doesn't show too much interest in her hobbies too #and I plan to change that

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i-literally-cant-with-this · 1 year ago

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I looked and looked and looked for who to credit this art for. Maybe I'm blind. Maybe I need to do alternative searches for art to use on my posts. Anyhow, I found both of these on Pinterest. If you or someone you know is the creator, please message me and I'll add the artist.

A/N = Lovely Rengoku. This man can fit into any situation and make it work ... well, maybe not ALL. But you know what I mean. This ~one-a-fucking-gain~ didn't pan out how I planned it. I was originally going to write a whole thing but it pretty much just ended itself. It worked out well, though, despite being kinda short.

C/W = I don't think there are any. Talk of nudity, a small group of nude people posing for artistic purposes. Other than that it's just a fluffy piece. Flirting between Rengoku and y/n (F!reader). Enjoy!

Sign Here X_____________

"Hey, this is beginning art, right?" You asked the man looking over the class syllabus on the wall. He looked to be close to your age, maybe a little younger. He was goddamn beautiful, too. Tall. Not an ounce of body fat in the wrong place. Muscular. Cool hair; blonde with red tips.

He looked at you. For a good 10 seconds before he said anything. Scanning over your face, stopping at your eyes and your lips. You found yourself feeling some way. Not uncomfortable, but like you were under a microscope. Being inspected.

"Yes, this is my class, beginning art."

You narrowed your eyes. "'Your class?' Oh, you mean you're in this class, too? Cool. Well, my name is y/n. I guess I'll see you around. Thanks."

"Heh, no, this is MY class. As in, I'm the instructor. I'm the everything ... actually." He said calmly and smiled at you as he put his hair back in a tight bun and you watched him walk to the oversized desk in the corner of the room.

"Hello, welcome to ...?" He rolled his hands out like as he was encouraging the classroom to interact.

"Arrrrtttt for beginnnnerssss!" Everyone participated. Even you. How could you not. This man could convince a perfectly healthy person to drink a vile of poison.

"Good job, kids," he laughed. Clearly noting the older people in the class. "In this course, we're going to learn how to draw animate and inanimate objects. Always be prepared because I will surprise you from time to time."

You looked around the class to see everyone was completely enthralled with this young man. The person to your left was a woman, maybe in her 40's. She looked nice. You leaned over and said, "I can't wait to see what kind of surprises he's talking about," and giggled. She put her hand over her mouth as she giggled back at your comment.

"Y/n, care to tell me what's so funny back there? I'm not here as a comedian. I'm here as an art teacher. So if comedy is more up your ... alley? Perhaps you would like to go to the room a few doors down and share your humor with everyone that isn't here to learn how to draw?"

You shut up real quick. "S-sorry ... uhhh, I-I don't know your name." You tilted your right ear toward him, waiting for his response.

"I was actually just getting to that before you flexed your humorous." He stared into your eyes for what seemed like an eternity. You don't think he blinked the entire time, either.

"My name is Kyojuro Rengoku. Yes. It's a mouthful. Yes, you have to call me by my full name or I will kick you out of this class."

Your body sunk as he laughed. "No, not really. You can call me Kyo. I'll write it on the board in such a way it'll be simple enough to pronounce." He grabbed the chalk and began to say out loud what he was writing. "Kee-yoh. Kyo. Simple enough, yes?" He looked at you. Again. What the hell was up with him. "See, y/n, I can be funny, too."

You nodded, feeling your cheeks pink up. He still hadn't taken his eyes off of you as your face transitioned back to its original color.

"Now, what exactly is going to be a surprise in this class, you're probably wondering. I presume you all read the waiver etc. that was included in your packet? I know I got most of them back all signed. If you didn't sign one, stay after and talk to me."

Shit, you thought, I never got anything like that.

└────── ⋆☆⋆ ──────┘

Class was only 45 minutes tonight as it was just a basic introduction about what would be covered and when.

"Y/n, may I have a moment of your time?" He sounded so relaxed when he talked. You thought about asking him what his secret was. "Did you mail in your signed waiver? I sent it out with the syllabus about 3 weeks ago?"

You started to twist your bottom lip around with your teeth. "I ... I don't - ah, I mean I didn't ever get that. None of it, Kyo."

He was taken aback by your use of his name so casually. So effortlessly.

"Hm. Look over your information here and tell me if it's correct." He handed you a planner and had you find your name.

You pointed at it.

"Here's my name, phone # and addre-" You stopped and looked at him. "This is my old address. Where did you get this from?"

You'd moved 5 months ago to a little house. But you thought you'd changed everything over before you'd even moved out.

"I got it from here, from the school."

"Ohhh, oh no. I forgot to notify the school." You got a worried look on your face. "Does that mean I'm going to be kicked out of this class?" You didn't even try to disguise your concern.

"Nooo! No, nothing like that, y/n. But I will need you to fill one out, just to cover everything."

"Cover? Cover what? You doing blood sacrifices in here or something?" You laughed.

He didn't. "Among other things, yes."

You waited for him to tell you he was kidding.

A full minute must've gone by before he gave you a half-smile, the left side of his mouth turning upward.

"There will be no sacrifices of any kind in my class, little lamb. Do not worry." He chuckled, rather darkly for someone who was trying to be reassuring.

Little lamb. You're pretty sure you had a "little" orgasm when he called you that.

"Just initial on these and sign at the bottom?" You pointed at the paper.

He put his hand next to where you were pointing, almost resting it right on top of yours.

"Mmmm ... mm-hm. Did you read what it said, y/n?"

You shook your head, quickly at first but then you slowed to an almost complete still.

"It's just about ... about art, and ... other stuff. R-right?" You swallowed hard, it hurt.

"It's basically a declaration that you're ok with nudity in any capacity. You're ok with multiple bodies being nude and draped or sitting on one another. "Basically ..." he continued, "that you're not going to file a sexual harassment claim against myself or the school because you're uncomfortable. It states very obviously that there will be profound nudity in this course. If you're NOT ok with that, then you're free to change your mind, of course. You'll get a full refund, no questions asked."

He watched your face closely for any kind of a reaction.

"Who - who will be the nude model?" You asked, trying to use your big girl voice.

"Anyone who is willing to pose. Sometimes it's someone from class. Sometimes it's someone from a newspaper ad that needs some rainy day money." He paused, "And sometimes," he leaned back in his chair, "sometimes, it'll be me." A cocky look washed over his face. He knew what you were thinking. He was counting on it.

You almost lost your balance when he said that.

"Y-you pose?"

He nodded, looking a little proud of himself for having given you such a reaction.

"I - I think I'll stay in the class then."

"Fantastic. Sign ... right ... here."

Taglist: @callm3senpaii

#kyojuro rengoku fluff #kyo fluff #rengoku fluff #rengoku au art teacher #rengoku art teacher #art teacher rengoku #rengoku x you #rengoku x y/n #rengoku x reader #kyojuro x reader #kyojuro x y/n #kyojuro x you #kyojuro rengoku x reader #kyojuro rengoku x you #kyojuro rengoku x y/n

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freyfall · 3 days ago

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anybody still follow me for dangan ronpa. have any of you played the prologue for the fangame project: eden's garden. i just spent four hours on a discord call streaming it to a friend and i'm fucking screaming it's so good and im going to DIE if i don't talk more about it, so a few things (spoilers for chapter zero ahead)

i fucking love the protagonist. he's such a breath of fresh air compared to makoto/hajime/kaede/shuichi in the fact that he's a PESSIMISTIC ASSHOLE and he's NOT AFRAID TO SAY IT. Also please look at the snake on his tie. Eden's Garden. Snake on the tie. Snake in the Garden of Eden. HELLO.

WOLFGANG. I'm obsessed with him. Grace totally pegs him but that's neither here nor there. I was initially super suspicious of him but after the trial, I think that's just... his personality. He's the guy that we normally get as the DR protag, all hopeful and leader-y, but he's not the protag. Also, the little sheep on the lapel of his jacket - that definitely means something, whether it's a symbol for innocence/purity, or it has a more "lamb to the slaughter" type meaning. I wonder if Wolfgang is going to get martyred, perhaps.

Can I just say I love the diversity in the cast. I love that the girls get pants... finally... some good fucking food... and also I'm just kind of easy to please because ANYTHING is an improvement on the canon casts' tendency to drop horribly sexist shit out of nowhere (not to mention like. offensive stereotypes and bigotry.)

I LOVE Cassidy. I think she's going to survive a long while not because she's smart enough to but in spite of her... lack of intelligence. Also because I think the trial room needs a total dumbass in it.

I don't really know if I like Eva; I'm not super thrilled with the 'Ultimate Liar' bit, but I'm holding my initial judgment until we get an explanation. She kind of does have kyoko/maki vibes, which is cool to see, but I'm worried that her dark and brooding mystery-girl thing won't actually be that interesting.

I love Damon and Ulysses' lisps. I don't know if that's just the VAs but they each have minor lisps and it's so endearing.

I predicted Kai would be some sort of k-pop idol when we first saw him because his design absolutely screamed it, and influencer honestly isn't so far off. He's so fucking pathetic /pos

Ingrid could snap me in half and I'd thank her

Wenona is REALLY cool looking. I wonder why she doesn't have a surname - is it a cultural thing...? I wondered if she was meant to be Indigenous, but I'm not qualified to tell lol. Either way I absolutely ADORE her hair and earrings, she's gorgeous

ELOISE MY DARLING!!! That poor girl is going to die. I'm GOING to sob my eyes out over it.

I was already enthused over Tozu, but I LOVE the enforcer, Mara. She doesn't feel annoying or shoehorned like some of the other mascot sidekicks (monomi, monokubs) have felt. She's so ominous. Did I mention I love the animal masks? Garden of Eden theming, anyone? God. It's so fucking cool.

okay that's all my thoughts right now but I swear I love each and every one of these characters. There's not a single one I truly dislike. I can't fucking wait for dec 20th when the first chapter drops

#danganronpa #project eden's garden #p:eg

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sighthounds-and-sketches · 1 year ago

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Let's talk about flying to pick up a puppy by yourself

And some ways to make it easier on you.

Your prep starts honestly, about a week before baby actually comes home. Maybe 2 weeks.

For my pre-flight prep, I first picked out a flight carrier. I went with the one my breeder recommended.

It has expandable sides, and a little storage pocket. And it's resistant to chewing. I'm really glad I didn't buy a cheaper one, and I can't stress enough that it's cheaper to buy a quality one the first time than have a zipper break or a tear in the middle of your trip. My trip in total was 4 flights and 4 hours in the car, with him being with me for half of it and having the longest layover of my day. I could only really let him out a couple times, so this next part was incredibly helpful.

I mailed the carrier to my breeder,

at her behest. This was *huge* because the siblings got their scent on it and he was acclimated to being in it before I got to him. It acted as a secure place for him to ride in the car and for his first few nights here, he slept in there through the night.

And now that he's in his crate, the removable pad with scents on it has been instrumental in establishing the crate as a safe place for him.

Video of why I'm really glad I got the durable carrier.

Please consider what you're wearing that day.

Wear clothes you don't need to fuss with *at all* that's normal airport protocol- but I can't stress this enough, you're carrying the puppy in your arms through the TSA checkpoint and other people will be fussing over him. Make sure your appearance and personal bag is no fuss.

See: jeans, hoodie, puppy treat and potty bag that can be shoved into my personal Item, and a no fuss backpack.

In my personal travel bag I kept:

Pee pads, his food from the breeder, a change of clothes in case of incidents, a portable battery to charge my phone, collapsible food and water bowls, collar and leash incase one wasn't provided, and SEVERAL toys in there.

The toys were great for waiting in the terminal. I'd expand the sides of the crate and introduce a new toy to him to help him run a bit of energy out before we had to board.

Peepads: Even though airports have animal relief areas, chances are they're either kind of gross or your dog may be a little too young for it to be safe. I was traveling through one of the busiest airports in the world, and nobody was checking jack shit so I opted for potty breaks to occur in bathrooms with pee pads. He didn't end up going but it's better to be prepared.

I flew Delta and used Skymiles accumulated from our credit card with them that we pay off monthly, so the only thing I paid for out of pocket was 95.00 to bring Argos on board. My flight only costed 20k miles total, and that was only a small portion of what we'd accumulated over the 6 months we've been using the card. I think it's worth considering if you're planning to fly to a breeder. It enabled me to go anywhere in the country that Delta flies and not worry about costs.

Day of hack: double check your flights on the airlines app and switch your seat if possible. I swapped one of my return flight seats to an empty row for 15.00, which meant I could have my carryon and him with me at the same time and that was very nice for readjusting where my stuff was and taking a damn nap. Because at this point, I'd been up for about 18 hours and still had 7 hours of traveling before I'd get home.

I think my last thing is that if you're like me and you do have an invisible disability- ask if you can preboard. Dont be afraid to say "hey, i have this problem and standing in the heat while carrying a bunch of stuff is potentially going to cause an episode. " The employees were extremely nice, and willing to work with me. Ultimately, I went through all of this because he's a service dog prospect and will hopefully help.

Small things for me specifically prior: ate in the morning and right before I picked him up, he was able to chill in his carrier while I ate dinner at a restaurant in the airport- didn't make any sounds. He slept the whole time. I don't think I couldve eaten in the food court, too much to carry between him and my main bag.

I think that's it. I may add to this if I remember anything I forgot.

Edited to add: for my besties with miscellaneous illnesses-

A baggie with your medicines is IMPORTANT. Do not forget some dramamine, advil, Tylenol, whatever, pack it if there's a small chance you'll need it!

I ended up getting migraine symptoms like 5 hours into travel, and that was not a day I could afford to have blurred vision. <3 remember to take care of YOU on the journey.

#argos #flight travel #traveling with a puppy #flying with a puppy #dogblr #silken windhound #kingfisher silkens

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thequeenofthedisneyverse · 7 months ago

Text

Who they need (It's not me) -Deceiver Au; Chapter 2

TW: People getting hurt at the hands of an unstable teenager and swearing

Chapter 1

Camilo was deeply seething in his room as he paced back and forth on stage. People were still expecting him to babysit their kids like there isn't any other person eligible for the job in the entire Encanto.

You should've seen the hoard of parents in his face with their children in tow. They all looked stressed, irritated, and/or desperate. Camilo felt bad, truly he did, but that sympathy was quickly replaced by anger and utter disgust.

They were all asking him to watch their kids for a few hours when he just wanted peace to hang out with his friends. Some of the kids to ask the same thing, unknowingly trying to guilt trip him as their parents were.

Others somehow figured it was the best time to ask him if he could shift into Luisa or some other figure to help them with something.

Without thinking he just pushed pass the crowd of people and ran back to Casita. This was supposed to be a happy day for him for f*ck sake!

He got the makeover that he wanted, and he really wanted to show it off to his friends. But some people couldn't understand the word NO!

And this has been happening for over two and a half weeks now. Some parents won't even say anything, they just drop the kid(s) off wherever he's standing. The parents disappear so quickly he just has to put up with it until they come back for their child(ren).

On other occasions some adults would just order him to do something.

"Camilo, I need Luisa to help me with donkeys but she won't help. Maybe you-"

"Camilo, I need you to help me lift these bricks-"

"You can turn into animals now, right? can you help with-"

"Please, I just need a few hours alone. You want to help me, don't you?"

And the kids (either with their parents or just out and about) didn't help. Not that he would put anything against them, they are just kids.

"Camilo, I want to play a game with you! You always have fun games to play"

"Tell us a story por favor, I want a story!"

"Can we play hide & seek in the corn fields"

"Camilo, I need help with this, Camilo I need help with that! I just want a break, why can't I catch a fucking break?! It's like my old life all over again. Thanks Mirabel, for being such a HELPFUL PAIN IN MY ASS!" He thought to himself. If it weren't for her, he wouldn't have gotten his gift back no one would be bothering him.

"I'm starting to hate my own fucking name because of these people..."

And what makes matters worse is that is that people are starting to blame him for shit that he didn't do again. Little pranks here and there that do seem like something he would do. They are coming less believable to his family of course but that doesn't mean he's any less tired of it.

Did I mention that Camilo's shapeshifting mishap has become a joke around Encanto?

Whenever he walks around, he can see people looking at him and snickering, giggling, and just don't right laughing. Some even verbally reminding him of it while laughing IN FRONT OF HIM!

"Oh boy Milo, you are some jokester aren't you? Do you think you can do that again?"

"Hey niño animal, you gonna shift and cry again?"

For this past month, it's been taking EVERYTHING in Camilo to not act on petty urges. The urges to burn, break, and just cause chaos to everything and everyone in Encanto.

Why was he holding back? Because he wanted to give the villagers a chance. Some had seemed so nice and respectful he thought they might have changed their ways. He also wanted to spend more time with HIS side of the family.

Consequently, causing his pure rage from when he was five years old to now to bubble over.

Wait...

The miracle came back November 30th, it was now December 20th, just a few more days until Christmas, and then his birthday.

A thought came to mind, there was so much he could do in that time. A little gift to himself for all the shit he's put up with. Camilo smile lit up and so did his eyes, a powerful green and purple glow to them.

youtube

"I can become small just like I can turn tall I can become the person you think you'll need-"

Camilo shifted into a mouse and then a jaguar. Then a capybara, slowly shifting into any and every animal he thought of just for quick practice. Mirrors sat in the audience as showed every animal and person he shifted into.

From Alma, to Pepa, to Dolores, to Luisa, and to Isabela. He pretended to be them with their own mannerisms as he sang and twirled around.

"I can become you; no one knows It's not true. So, you really think I'll be the person you need?"

Now that Camilo was finally coming to terms with his urges. He'll do what everyone wants him to do. But it'll come with a consequence.

"I need your face to help me do what I need, so tell me who you need from me, and I get you dealt with. The person you need me to be that person will never be me...will it?"

Camilo shifted into Antonio and looked at one of the mirrors sitting on an audience seat. He touched the mirror and smiled mischievously.

"I can become cute-," He then shifted into Mariano, "Just like I can turn brute I can become the person you think you'll need"

Milo then shifted into Mirabel, the girl he very much despised at the moment. "I can become you; No one knows it's not true so you're who they need?"

Camilo thought about it "I would love nothing more than to ruin her reputation. She's the on who put me in this mess after all"...but doing something in Mirabel's form wouldn't go well in his favor. Everyone will know it's him causing the trouble so what's the point?

He rolled his eyes and thought about someone else, Oh...Milan Gonzalo. The man who liked to drop off his bratty entitled children for hours at a time until dinner came around. Milo shifted into him in an instant-

"I need your face to help me do what I need, so tell me who you need from me, and I get you dealt with. The person you need me to be that person will never be me...will it?"

He thought of ways to ruin his life and remembered he has a big shoe store.

A perfect place to destroy.

"Me, myself, and I oh now I know them. I'll just become another lie the real me will destroy them."

("Me, myself, and I we all will try to be that lie we will be that phony lie")

Camilo climbed on top of his stage and ran over to his dresser. He pulled the upper drawer open and rummaged through the scissors, paper, and pens until he found what he was looking for.

A pack of matches.

Once he had them in his right hand he smiled sinisterly as he clutched them and put them in his right pocket. With a quick pace Camilo left his room.

On the way to the village, he shifted into a hummingbird and flew over the villagers. He loved the feeling of the air in his wings and the feeling of superiority he had over the people below him.

After turning a few corners and down a few alley ways, he made it to Milan's shoe store. Oh, how well kept and pristine it was. Too bad it wasn't going to stay that way.

He perched himself on a bench next to the shop in a butterfly form and waited for someone to go in. Luckily, the main man himself, Milan, walked out of his store.

Camilo noticed he had keys in his hands, so it was obvious he was about to lock up.

"Why couldn't he be inside while I burn this place down? just a little burn wouldn't do much."

Quickly, Milo turned into a mosquito and flew as fast as he could into the store. He landed on the hard wooden floor of the establishment. The warmth shining through the glass made the floor warm to the touch.

Milo shifted back into himself but remained crouched because there were glass windows in front of the shop, and he didn't want to risk being seen.

Some shoes were put on display behind the glass and by how high up they were, which was four feet, he could hide a little bit.

He took the match pack out of his pocket, pressed the match head into the striker, and dragged the head along the striker. Resulting in a small little flame.

It flickered and shined brightly in Camilo's eyes. Those held hateful and petty intent mixed with mischievous joy. Camilo carefully placed a match into a shoe and lit another match, doing the same thing over and over again.

He was happily torching every shoe in sight until he landed on some orange and yellow espadrilles (shoes similar to Dolores'/Pepa's).

"Hm, I need some new shoes" Like he didn't have ten new pairs at home.

Camilo grabbed the shoes, took off his old ones, and put on the new ones. Perfect fit!

This was so thrilling for him. Burning down the store of one of the people who used him while they did only God knows what. The feeling was incredible.

As of right now, the entire place was smelling like smoke and the matches were starting to do their job. But he lit a couple more matches and just threw them about. He needed this process to be a lot quicker.

Before the smell of fire fully got onto him, Camilo shifted into a mosquito again and flapped his tiny wings through the keyhole. When he saw no one was watching he shifted into a hummingbird again and sat on top of the shoe store.

He sat there for five minutes until he got bored and flew away to cause havoc to someone else. No one noticed the store was burning yet. Milo thought of who to f*ck with next. So many candidates!

Camilo looked down at the villagers and noticed a certain person scurrying around. The well-known bully, Esteban Curillo. The entire Encanto despised him and his puta chismosa of a mother.

Esteban could literally murder someone and Dulce, his mother, would deny it. "He would never do such a thing" kind of mama. Milo thought about how Esteban and Dulce sort of mirrored him and Pepa, but he quickly denied those thoughts.

There's no way in hell we're the same...well, maybe a little. But I'm not an asshole like he is.

He remembers how Estaban constantly used to annoy and verbally bully him in school. He still attempts to, and it's been getting on Milo's absolute nerve.

Then he remembered some gossip between students where Esteban got into a fight with his aunt a few weeks ago, one of the many bakers in Encanto. Something about how she banned him from her bakery because he actively destroys and steal stuff from it.

And when the blame couldn't be placed on Esteban, surely the next best person to blame was Camilo. He hated that. Esteban also didn't know the meaning of the word "NO" and girls utterly despised him for it.

Perfect target number two

And Camilo just so happened to be a frequent person in that bakery of hers. This was going to be fun. Sure, he was going to feel bad for what he was about to do because Esmerelda is a nice woman but...he needed to blow off steam.

He flew over to her bakery and unfortunately...it was crowded. There wasn't much he could do right now. He'll come to do what he needed to do tonight tho.

"Dammit!...wait, this doesn't mean I can do other things." Camilo thought about what he could do. Then he got it...he was about to an absolute menace...in Esteban's form.

So, that's what he did. Camilo hid behind a house and shifted into the slightly older male. Short brown hair, skin like Tio Agustin's, brown eyes, and a plain dusty blue ruana and grey pants.

The first thing he did was steal some firecrackers, fireworks, and picked up some rocks he found around. He set some firecrackers off in Acacia Herrera's hair, the town *cough* tissue wipe *cough* and home Recker. A woman who also left all of her four kids with Camilo when she didn't feel like watching them. Which would also be for hours at a time.

He smashed windows of shops, threw rocks into windows, destroyed any sort of property of he could. All of which belonged to people who used or made fun of him in some sort of way. And maybe some other random places just for some self-indulgence. (And to keep his tracks unnoticeable)

Milo's heart was beating so freaking fast. There were times where he had to stop and take a break to calm himself down. He knew Dolores was probably listening to what was going on and the last thing he needed was her to be suspicious of him.

His last evil deed was done with fireworks. He walked past a bar and decided to snoop just in case there was anyone in there he recognized. He shifted into a ladybug and flew in

Turns out, 40% parents who forced him to babysit for long hours or just folks who forced him to do tiring ass labor for dumb reasons were in that bar. It wasn't much but still enough to cause him to shift back into Esteban, light up a bunch of fireworks and toss them in.

How could he recognize them? Camilo shapeshifts for a reason; it's built into him to remembering everything about faces at this point. Even when he doesn't mean to.

Sure, there were innocents in there, but Cami really didn't think about that. revenge and pettiness was the only thing on his mind at the moment.

Oh, how colorful all that was. Seeing the fireworks shoot out of the bar so magically and beautifully.

His face:

People were running off shrieking or attempting to dodge the sparks coming at them. Camilo was just amazed. However, he quickly had to get his ass up out of there because the sparks were flying everywhere...and he didn't want to risk getting caught.

All of this was so exciting for him. One of the reasons he was so happy without a care is because that the smart portion of the village, and his family, knows HE would never do any of this.

The Camilo they knew would leave ink on your toothbrush at best, not vandalize, steal, or just cause terror amongst people like ESTEBAN does.

That boy has been known to do these kinds of things before but only at a small scale. But still, multiple people have seen him do all those things.

There's no way people could pin the blame on Camilo this time. And even if they do, they are more than likely going to get a lightning strike and a slap to the face.

He was causing havoc for at least three more hours until it was time for dinner. By then he was really tired, and all of that steam dissipated into pure exhaustion.

He was panting as he still tried to calm himself down. After his heart was steady, he shifted back into himself and slowly walked down they alleyway and turned a corner to get to Casita.

Milo's reign of terror started at 3:30 and ended at 6:45. He didn't exactly know the time, but he knew the sun was setting and that meant it was almost time to go home.

In the meantime, he stopped everything and decided to hang out with his friends. The ones he could find that is. His energy was mostly drained, but he was still able to talk and joke around with them.

By 7:39 it was full time to go home so he bid his friends goodbye and slowly walked home.

He could see his parents walking up ahead of him. Milo saw them hanging on each other, Pepa's arm around Felix's shoulder and Felix's arm around Pepa's waist.

Pepa kisses his cheek and leaned on him, so sweet...of course Camilo didn't think so. Gross, adult love.

The teen boy rolled his eyes at the sight but kept his pace slow. He was in no mood to speed up. Camilo looked behind him and there was Antonio on Luisa's shoulders.

On her left was Isabela and Mirabel, with Dolores on Luisa's right. They were talking about something. Something Camilo cared less to listen to.

Milo turned around and thought back to the events of today, the very start of all the more chaos he'll cause. He smiled warmly at the thought, so much chaos before his birthday. How nice.

Soon enough, he made it into Casita with the others.

"Alright Milo, you know someone is going to say something so just act dumb"

After everyone greeted each other with small talk, they got ready for dinner. Camilo quickly went up to his room and changed, he didn't need anyone smelling any trace of smoke on him.

Once that was done, he came down and sat next to Dolores and his mother.

Sudado de pollo was served for dinner and as always, it's good food. Luisa's favorite actually! Julieta came up with a plan to start cooking meals that are favorites of certain family members. She does it in a pattern according to age.

It'll soon be Camilo's turn seeing as he's the middle child like Luisa.

Everyone talked about their days and Camilo listened, or at least tried to. His mind kept drifting to all the other things he may do before Christmas and his birthday.

Should I become a murderous villain?...hmmm. Eh, seems fun but also WAY too much work. I'm already going to do enough work, but if the situation calls for it, I might-

"CAMILO!"

The boy snapped out of his thoughts and looked to where the voice came from, Isabela.

"Wha?" Camilo asked in confusion. His chameleon earrings dangling with the movement of his head.

"Esteban, he's been the embodiment of chaos all day, didn't you hear?" Isabela asked in an annoyed tone. She wasn't upset at Camilo, just the situation.

"Uh yeah, I did. He's been crazy all day...I wonder why" Camilo tried to sound a little bit concerned but not too over the top.

"He hurt a lot of people," Mirabel added worriedly.

"Are they okay?" Camilo asked

"Si, I healed them" Julieta admitted to him. "I don't what got into that boy but good god he needs to be locked up!" she added with a soft but stern tone.

"You just HAD to heal them Tia...just great" Camilo bitterly thought to himself.

"What would drive him to do all that? and act like he didn't do it?!" Luisa asked with a confused expression.

"What would drive his mother to say it's all lies or that Camilo did it." Dolores muttered quietly but it was loud enough for Camilo and Pepa to hear. Seeing as they were right next to her on both sides.

"And that poor man Milan, his injuries weren't bad but he still had them..." Julieta felt sad at the memory. Unbeknownst to Camilo, Milan went back to his store and saw that everything was on fire.

In an act of stupidity, he ran inside attempting to get a family heirloom from the back part of the small building. Somethings started collapsing/caving in but he made it out with some small burns.

"What...what happened to him?" Camilo asked quietly as he tried not to seem suspicious.

"He got hurt in a fire; it was his shoe shop. Esteban's doing no doubt!" Julie answered with a little bit a fury in her eyes. She was SURE it was his doing.

This almost made Camilo smile. That miserable energy sucking asshole got hurt? Oh goodie! but he had to remind himself that he's around people that don't think like him.

"No laughing or smiling until I get in my room, don't you laugh you idiot!"

"Well, at least he's okay..." Camilo smiled gratefully and slowly turned it into a frown. He was really trying his best to seem worried.

"It would've been better if he actually died, those kids would be better off without him. They have a mom and an uncle from what they've told me so they at least wouldn't be alone. hmm, maybe I should lock him in next time...did I just seriously think that?...."

"His mother had the audacity to blame Camilo." Dolores said with a bitter tone. A dark cloud appeared over Pepa's head, and it thundered.

Pepa snapped her head over to her eldest and only daughter, "SHE WHAT?!"

"Are you serious?" Felix asked with an offended expression.

"Si papa, mami" Dolores' expression still remained stern with a hard gaze at her food.

"Oh, I can't stand that woman! Always blaming Camilo when in fact it was always that diablo of a son!" Alma fumed alongside her middle daughter and her husband, slamming her hand on the table.

"This is so fucking hilarious!" Camilo thought to himself. They didn't believe Esteban or his mother. None of them did. Or at least the right amount of them.

Isabela and Mirabel were a little suspicious but didn't want to say anything. Dolores did think that it could have been Camilo, but he would never do ANYTHING like what Esteban has done today.

"He would be much too afraid to do that. Not to mention way too respectful and just too nice" Dolores thought to herself. Instantly pushing away any assumptions she had.

Dinner carried on as usual with everybody talking about different topics. Soon it came time for everyone to head off to bed for some shuteye or at least a break.

He went up to his room door and touched the doorknob. A happy smile on his face as he thought about tomorrow-

"Camilo! Me and the girls are having a sleepover, want to come?" A bubbly and chipper voice said. He recognized that voice. Mirabel.

He looked to the right of him and saw all four girls staring at him in child-like glee. Camilo wanted to but A; Mirabel, the main person who put him back in the situation he was in seven months ago, was going to be there. And B: He was tired.

"We're gonna tell stories" Dolores said, knowing full well Camilo loved storytelling. And she hoped this could get his mind off of today because she knows that being blamed for everything can't be good on his mental, no matter how much he smiles.

"Do makeovers" Isabela added with a nod

"And gossip, we know you love gossip!" Luisa admitted with a smile.

"We can play games too!"

Camilo smiled as politely as he could to not seem irritated or annoyed. "Uh...No, I'm a little tired, you girls have fun though"

"But-"

In less than a second, he was in his room and locked the door. A deep sigh escaped him as he leaned up against the door. He needed a long bath, and time to himself to truly process what the hell happened today.

"He's hiding something" Isa pointed out with narrowed eyes as she looked at his glowing door.

"How can you tell?" Mirabel asked, Dolores was equally questioning how she stumbled upon that assumption.

"When has he, for the past seven months, denied a sleepover with us?"

"Can't he just be tired? he did look tired" Luisa said with a shrug and raised brow.

"He once sat up with us until 3 AM and still lasted ten minutes...besides. Did he really say what he was doing all day?"

Dolores didn't like where this was going, and she knew where Isa was going with this. "Isabela Valentina Rojas Madrigal, if you somehow even ATTEMPT to bring that Esteban up and dare even HINT at something, so help me..."

Isabela put her hands up and backed away "I- I wasn't going to!"

"Then what were you going to say?" Dolores eyed her primana, silently daring her to admit what she was thinking.

"I was only saying that....never mind..." Isabela scratched the back of her neck and looked away. It was in her best interest to keep whatever thought she had to herself.

"Mhm, that's what I thought. Now let's have our sleepover but I lose patients"

Now, Dolores isn't stupid. Quite the opposite really, over the years she's learned to spot when people were lying or telling the truth. Especially when it came to her younger primas and siblings.

Something in her urged to look into her suspicions of Camilo but she also wanted to cut him some slack. He's been through a lot AND she knows her brother. He would never set fire to a store or...burn people with fireworks...would he?

UGH!! FINISHED! This took way longer than I thought it would

@thefourchimes

@miracles-and-butterflies

@evostar

I feel like this chapter is lacking a bit so if you have any ideas, let me know.

#Youtube #encanto deceiver au #encanto fanfic #encanto au #au #reblogs are appreciated!#comments as well #encanto

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