#i made some sheep studies

[perroulisses]

sheep sketch dump

at first we have Osheepseus and Sheepsus Christ

and

Asheepna and her pet liar

he does tricks

[ebodebo]

Tough As Nails—Giddy Up, Cowboy

thinking about cowboy!simon riley… MDNI | part two |

<- previous next ->

It had been about a week since your rendezvous with Simon. And, God, had it been consuming every waking and not waking thought.

Every breath, every touch had become engrained in your brain.

Him groaning into your mouth as you rode him. His fingers digging into the tender flesh of your hips as he whispered how fucking hot you looked on him. And, him casually giving you his cowboy hat after he gave you the best orgasm you’d ever had.

You hadn’t spoken since your little sexcapade, not because either of you were ignoring the other but simply because you were both so busy. He had to tend to the livestock and such, and you were up to your head in college work. Busy bees you both were.

But, your mom had made you take a break from your studies to come downstairs to join the camaraderie. So, you found yourself sitting on the corner cushion of the oversized white couch that takes up half of the living room, your family filling in the other seats.

The next half an hour is filled with questions regarding college, city life, and the age-old question of when you will bring a man home. Ah, gotta love being home.

You try to change the subject and bring it back to your cousin, who is engaged, but a figure moving outside catches your eye.

You squint a little to get a better view. It’s Simon. What the hell? He’s still working, and it’s eight o’clock at night. You decide to investigate, quickly excusing yourself and glancing outside until you see his figure walking towards the barn.

“Hey, Cowboy.” You shout, shuffling to his side. He doesn’t even have to look to know it’s you.

“Shouldn’t you be asleep?” He gruffs out as he steps inside the barn.

“It’s eight.” You roll your eyes as you watch him grab a bale of hay. Watching his biceps flex, making his veins bulge, causes you to gulp.

He throws the hay over the fence to where the horses are and turns to face you, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand.

“Any reason you’re out here?” He asks, walking past you to grab a bucket of grain.

“I came to help you.” You lift your chin to look at him as he strolls past you again to pour the grain for the sheep.

“Don’t need help.” You tug on your bottom lip as you see his arms bulge again and sweat beads gather around his abdomen, just enough to where you can see the outline of his muscles. God, this is so pathetic.

“It would go by faster with me helping.” You urge, as he doesn’t so much as spare you a glance as he replies.

“Doubt that.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Your defensive tone finally makes him look at you.

“I don’t mean anythin’ by it. I’m just sayin’ that it doesn’t seem you know a lot about doin’ this kind of stuff.” He casually says as you narrow your eyes.

“This kind of stuff?” You repeat his words, your hands finding refuge on your hips.

“Labor intensive work.” Your eyes widen at his words. Of course, he thinks you’re some rich girl who can’t do anything except shop and date. Asshole.

“Wow.” You gawk, as you bring your hands up to cross across your upper body, suddenly feeling self-conscious.

“I didn’t think you thought so little of me, Simon.” Oh shit. You didn’t use that stupid nickname he claims to despise so much; you used his name.

He sighs, dipping his head to look at the ground, pondering a response that won’t piss you off further.

“I don’t think little of you.” He sets the empty bucket down before continuing. “I shouldn’t have said that, okay? I’m sorry.” His words sound genuine, which you know he wouldn’t fake.

“You’re forgiven.” He curtly nods, thinking you’re done. “Only if I get to help you.” You smile as he briefly closes his eyes and sighs, fine.

You spend the better part of an hour assisting him with various tasks, including feeding the calves, fixing a broken fence, and chopping firewood, which quickly became your favorite activity. Primarily because, in between the first and last log, Simon pulled his shirt off, revealing his toned body and hairy chest.

After finishing up, Simon tells you he’ll drive you back to the house since you had to go pretty far to chop the wood.

You stand outside the passenger door as Simon carefully locks up the barn door. Before he makes his way to the driver's door, he stops before you.

“You did good work.” He praises you as he opens your door for you. You don’t step in immediately; you tilt your head up, cheekily smiling.

“Do I get a reward?” His eyes darken at your innuendo, and your breath quickens as you see his body flex.

“You want a reward? I’ll give you a reward.” He steps closer to you, grasping your waist with his hands. He dips his head down and hungrily encases your lips with his own.

It's the same hunger as your first kiss but with less urgency. You could taste your shared breath and feel the thud of your combined heartbeats. Your hands roamed up his chest while his slipped into your hair, threading his fingers through the strands.

“We shouldn’t be doing this.” You murmur into his mouth as he slips his tongue into yours. He grips you tighter, moving his mouth lower to press deep kisses on the tender skin of your neck.

“Scared your little boyfriend is gonna see us?” He murmurs into your skin. Referring to your guy friend, who you had been friends with for years and who was currently inside chatting with your mom.

“Fuck off. He’s not my boyfriend.” You say, gripping the back of his neck and bringing him back to your lips. “He’s a friend.” You gently nip his bottom lip, making him groan at the sensation.

“Gotta’ lot of guy friends?” He cheekily says, slipping his hand so it’s gently grazing the hem of your shirt.

“Just him.” You breathlessly reply as he slips his hand up your shirt, grazing your stomach as his lips graze against your ear.

“What about me?” He murmurs, gently nipping your ear lobe, making you grip his forearm.

“We are not friends.” He lets out a deep chuckle as he slips his hand past the waistband of your jeans, down to the button, gently unclasping it before pulling your zipper down.

“No? What do you suppose we are then?” He roughly asks as he slides your jeans down a little.

“I don’t know. Acquaintances?” You choke out, gripping his shoulders, as he grazes your cunt over your soaked underwear. He leans down, hovering over your ear.

“Don’t think acquaintances get this wet over each other.” He gently slips a finger under your underwear, carefully grazing your slit. “Do you?”

You can’t even speak. You’re too busy focusing on the way his finger feels in you. Too busy making sure you don’t fall over onto the dirt.

“Huh?” He tuts, slipping his finger entirely in you, grazing your sweet spot. You moan at the direct contact, fully leaning against the side of his truck.

“Probably not.” You manage to choke out as his fingers pump in and out of you, as he dips his head yet again to engulf your lips with his own, only pulling back slightly to praise you.

“Atta’ girl.”

Jesus Christ. You never understood how one single word or phrase could make a person lose it, but, in that moment, you almost came on his hand right then and there.

“You need more?” His husky voice rumbled through your ears, making you ferociously shake your head. He chuckles at your enthusiasm and slips another finger into you, this time lapsing around your clit.

“Fuck.” You moan out, pressing your forehead into his chest. “Feels so good.”

“I can feel.” He murmurs, referring to the multiple times you have clamped around his fingers. His fingers continue to move harmoniously inside you, grazing your clit in the process until you feel your impending orgasm.

Your orgasm hits you like a train. It was strong and intense. You thought riding him gave you the most intense orgasm you’d ever had, but he managed to intensify that with just his two fingers.

After a moment of you slumping against him to come down from your high, he zips and buttons your jeans and opens up the truck door for you to slide in.

Once he slips into his seat, he turns to you.

“You got your reward.” He breathes out, watching as you gently bite your lip.

“Now where’s mine?”

a/n: thank u guys for all of ur kind words on part one! i really appreciated it:)) hopefully, you enjoyed this💕

reblogs & comments are encouraged!

[unkreativstermensch]

"Still super jealous as hell by the way.“

"Okay, now, can you…get outta my face?“ Steve annoyedly swats a hand at Eddie’s chest and ducks out of his space.

Eddie sighs and shakes his head. "Why are you-" He purses his lips, thinks. "You don’t…you still don’t like me very much, do you?"

At that Steve stops walking, huffs out an annoyed breath and presses his eyes closed. He turns to Eddie, looks at him with an expression Eddie can’t read and says, "No, Eddie. No, I don’t."

Eddie just watches him for a second, not sure what to do, studies his face, the furrow between his brows, the clear discomfort in his expression.

He scoffs. Getting a little angry. "Jesus, man,“ he says. "You just can’t get over it, huh? And here I was rambling on about how you were actually a good dude after all, but…no, turns out Steve Harrington is still just as much stuck in his stupid high school mindset as I would have thought.“

Steve just looks more annoyed now, a slight shift in his eyebrow and…he looks…frustrated? A little? How does that make sense?

"You,“ Steve says, voice low, but not because of the monsters, Eddie knows that much, "are unbelievable.“

Eddie blinks. "What?“

"Eddie, you’re the one who can’t get over it,“ Steve accuses him. "You always talk about that non-conformist shit and how people should just stop with the categories and drawers and labels but, dude, you’ve never judged people that way yourself! I have been saved in your brain as this dumb idiot jock ever since you’ve known me and…“ Steve huffs out an unbelieving breath. "And Eddie, I don’t know what to tell you…but you’ve never been nice to me. Ever. And when Lucas made the basketball team, which is amazing, by the way, you weren’t proud of him or supported him for that incredible achievement like you should have if he’s really one of your 'little sheep‘.“ He draws quotation marks in the air. "You punished him for it. You said you can’t make Hellfire? Fuck you. I’m just gonna have the most important part of the campaign without you, because you know what, you don’t deserve us anymore now that you’ve joined the dark side. Now that you’ve taken up a…a jock game. Because god forbid, somebody could actually ever enjoy playing sports.“

Eddie can’t follow. His mind’s lagging behind, still stuck on Steve apparently knowing DnD terms and saying he was never nice to him and-

Steve takes another step back.

"Eddie, for as long as I can remember you hated me. And yeah, sure, I was stupid and I did some stupid things, but…“ he shrugs one sided. "But I don’t think I deserve to be treated that way. I think I at least deserved a chance. And you never gave me one.“

Eddie blinks. "What do you mean I never gave you a chance, I-"

"Biology, sophomore year,“ Steve interrupts him. "We were assigned lab partners. I tried to really…put all of it aside, tried to get to know you, because actually, Eddie, you know what? I was sort of obsessed with you. Because you were so…loud and so unashamedly yourself, I admired you so much. You didn’t care about anything and you stood up for yourself and that’s something I’ve never been able to do, my whole life. I…“ Steve looks down, sighs a little. "I let people push me around because it’s the only way I feel like I can be of use. But you…you made me believe that maybe actually I…could do it, you know? Like, tell Tommy H. off or something…“ He looks so hurt. Eddie kind of wants to die. "But you…you acted like it was the worst thing ever, getting partnered with me. You didn’t even look at me. You…never gave me a chance, Eddie. So…sorry if one 'you’re actually a good dude, Harrington' doesn’t make me forget all of that, make up for it. Because I’m not so sure I believe you.“

Oh.

Oh no.

Eddie fucked up.

[someonexsomeone]

Sweetness

Title: Sweetness

Author: SomeonexSomeone

Word Count: 3.3k

Pairing: Remus Lupin x Reader, James Potter x Lily Evans

Summary: The Marauders LOVED to watch you with Remus.

Authors Note: this was actually born from another fic i was writing that i hated scrapped and kept one sentence from lmao

“What are you idiots up to now?” 

There was very little that could rattle Lily Evans. Her sister, Severus Snape, and, as reluctant as she wanted to admit it, James Potter, were just a few people, not to mention the very Gryffindor nature she adopted over the years making her susceptible to reckless actions, but she was getting the hang of it, honest! It was just that stupid Potter that set her on edge without having to do anything, and then he’d bat his pretty eyelashes at her and--

Ugh. Thinking about him made her feel nauseous.

She’d done her best to avoid Potter as much as possible, not that Dumbledore made it any easier assigning them as Head Girl and Boy (despite her many protests), but he seemed adamant on sticking by her side. Or, as Marlene suggested, not that Lily believed it anyway, that Potter was simply going about his day to day life and they just happened to share a few classes together and of course he would sit near her in the Great Hall since it was practically commonplace to sit near your yearmates, and why was she paying so close attention to him anyway?

“Because he’s so annoying it's impossible to ignore. Like a moldy cheese, his stink of annoyance just fills a room.”

“You know, Lily,” Marlene teased, drawing out every word. “Some people think smelly cheese is irresistible.”

She stormed away before she could think that her red face was attributed to anything but anger.

So, imagine her surprise when, the very person she was trying to avoid, was acting more a fool than usual, his butt hanging out of a classroom door with none of the decorum required of a Head Boy. Though, she mused, why did she expect anything different from him, even if he’d been acting more mature this term.

His goofy shocked face caused her heart to flutter, another symptom of her annoyance.

“Lily!” Potter whisper-shouted, somehow being incapable of speaking quietly even when it was so obvious he was trying. Sirius Black, used to his antics, knocked a knobby elbow into his side from his position on the floor, playful glare on his face as he shushed his better half.

“Quiet!” Black hissed, voice just as loud. Potter didn’t seem to notice, sending him a sheeping smile.

“Sorry!” he said, though his voice was only lower in pitch, not volume. Lily rolled her eyes. “What are you doing here? I thought you were studying with Marlene?”

“Stalking me now, Potter?” She was shocked, however, when Potter flushed red instead of his flirty remark.

“I-I would never! You know that, don’t you?” And then, as if he realized how pathetic he sounded, his mouth twitched into a grimace. “Unless, you--…you want me to?”

“Oh Merlin,” Black sighed, shaking his head, voice exasperated. “Marlene told us in case Dorcas finished her meeting with Professor Gropmorph early.”

This time, it was Lily who flushed in embarrassment. Thankfully, Remus took the perfect moment to open the door to the classroom, unamusement clear, even as Potter and Black toppled like dominoes face first onto Remus’s shoes.

“What are you idiots doing now?” Lily felt her chest swell in kinship, even as Remus��s face dropped in shock at spotting her standing there. “Lily?”

“I promise,” she said quickly, “I have nothing to do with this!”

“What…what are you doing here? What are any of you doing here?”

“Well, you see--!” Black scrambled to his feet, knocking James over in his attempt to get up faster. “I was just--...we were just--...”

“Rounds!” James shouted, gracelessly, despite his usual athleticism, using the door frame to pull himself up. Once he was on his feet, he swung an arm around Lily. When she tried to sidestep away from him, he kept his arm firm, and she pretended to hate it. “We were just doing rounds, right, Evans?”

It was a miracle these marauders didn’t get into more trouble if this is what they were like when they were lying. James was staring down at her with his big brown eyes, twinkling with hope. Black was making a subtle motion to play along, though it was in clear view of Remus, who eyed them suspiciously.

Why me?, she thought, miserably.

“...Yeah,” she finally said, though the moment had stretched on for far too long to be convincing. Black face palmed.

“Rounds? But it’s not even dinner yet?”

James cursed under his breath. Lily rolled her eyes. How could he forget his best friend was a prefect?

“It’s those new Head rounds, right?” Black provided. James slumped in relief, immediately nodding along.

“Yep! Yeah, new rounds for Head Girl and Boy. Wouldn’t have taken the job if I knew there was so much to do!” James laughed too loud, then abruptly stopped, whipping his head down to look at Lily. “Not that I’m not responsible! I agreed, so I’ll follow through. Promise!”

“...okay,” Remus agreed, drawing out the sound to fill the sudden awkward silence. He eyes Black, almost looking like he was going to ask what he was doing there, then decided better and kept the question to himself. Lily didn’t blame him. “Well, have fun…?”

“Yes, yes! You as well, whatever mysterious thing you’re doing in there!” Black babbled, practically pushing Remus back into the room, throwing a glare over his shoulder. 

Just before the door shut, Lily swore she saw a familiar silhouette.

With the door now closed, and Black assured that Remus was far enough away, he whipped around, voice exasperated as he said, “Way to go, Prongs.”

“What?” Lily shrugged off Potter’s arm, and he had the decency to look embarrassed. “Oh, sorry. I panicked.”

“I could tell.” She made a show of whipping off her shoulder, but made no move to walk away. “What were you even doing?”

Potter opened his mouth to respond, but Black launched himself, covering his mouth with both hands. Potter's eyes widened, grabbing Black’s arms to push him away.

“Why are you curious? We’re not breaking any rules,” Black said suspiciously, voice trembling as he held his hands still. Lily eyed the two, Potter obviously not putting all his strength into the fight, then looked at the door.

“Remus is allowed to be in there,” she said instead of responding. She turned to Black, crossing her arms and standing her ground. “You, however, are being incredibly rude by spying on him.”

“He’s our friend,” Black argued, as if that justified his actions.

“Friends don’t spy on each other.”

“Friends don’t keep secret lovers.”

Immediately, the two looked at each other in equal shock, eyes widening in unison. Potter used the distraction to finally free his mouth, playfully spitting on the floor.

“Ugh, wash your hands, Pads.”

Lily blinked owlishly at Black, who looked horrified at what he revealed.

“Remus is dating--”

“We don’t know for sure,” James said before she could continue, warily glancing at the closed door. Deciding it would be best to move away, he nodded his head at Black, then gestured Lily down the hall, an illusion of privacy she found she appreciated. Once they were a good ways down, where the door all but disappeared into the lopsided cobbled wall, James continued, “It’s just a hunch we’ve had.”

“A hunch?” 

“Our Moony is very protective of his pack--” Potter coughed pointedly at Black, who just rolled his eyes, “--of friends.”

“What he means,” James cut in, “is that Moony is very selective of who he gets close to. Childhood trauma and all that. He just hasn’t gotten around to introducing us yet.”

Lily thought they were being very nonchalant for discussing childhood trauma, but she shrugged it off, reminding herself these were the boys who thought dungbombs were funny because they smelled like farts.

“And you were…what, trying to find a good time to introduce yourselves?” Potter turned sheepish while Black laughed.

“Not…not exactly.”

“Not that you would know, dear Evans, but our Moony is quite the romantic.”

“Remus? Remus Lupin?” Lily conjured the shy Remus she knew, the one who stuttered the first time they interacted, who she recalled being too quiet to stand up to his friends’ wrongdoings, but helped in every other instance. Remus, who she rarely saw with anyone but his roommates, despite the countless people throwing themselves at his feet for a date.

Black nodded, long hair swinging around his shoulders.

“The most. Would put Calyna Ollapianne to shame.” Although Lily was lost, no doubt one of many pop culture wizards she hadn’t had the time to discover, the way Potter was nodding his head made her inclined to believe it was a good thing. Maybe Mary would know, she wondered to herself, she’s always been into wizarding things.

“And, you see, he’s shy.” To this, Lily nodded. “So, when he does fancy someone, he doesn’t always have the courage to say something.”

“Except!” Black’s mischievous smile made her nervous. “Our dear Moony, who usually runs away tail between his legs when a pretty thing walks by, is currently locked in a room, far from other students or distractions, supposedly tutoring a very pretty thing.”

Lily stopped, her two companions falling in line to look at her, identical smiles on their faces. If she didn’t know Black had been staying with the Potter’s, she might have been weirded out. Instead, she only felt confusion, looking back over her shoulder to the hallway they just abandoned. Black was practically bouncing on his feet as he waited for her response.

“So…”

“Yes?”

“Remus is currently tutoring a fellow classmate and your…disrupting him?” Black sighed dramatically, obviously not what he was expecting to hear from her.

“Come on, Evans. You’re not the littlest bit curious?” He gestured down the hall. “We just let you in on one of our biggest secrets and you can’t even give me a dramatic gasp?”

“One of--?”

“We don’t bother them,” Potter reassured before she could continue, giving her a softer smile, one that relaxed her nerves, as much as she hated to admit it. “We just…want to make sure he’s doing alright. Provide emotional support, or whatever.”

Lily looked, really looked, at James as he stuttered over his words, pointedly avoiding her eyes. Even with his tanned skin, she could see the beginnings of a flush creeping up his neck, painting the tips of his ears rosy. The more she looked, the more he stammered, hands waving wildly, knocking into Black, though neither of them really acknowledged it, too busy studying her or too used to it, she didn’t know. She tucked away the knowledge that her stare made him stumble over her words.

By the time his voice was getting shrill, pathetically forming messy sentences that somehow implicated him and Black in a torrid affair with Remus, a familiar boy rounded the corner.

“Hey! Sorry, am I late?” Pettegrew called, face red and sweaty from no doubt running to meet up with his friends. “I got here as fast as I could.”

Though Remus was by far her favorite Seventh Year boy, Peter Pettigrew was high on her list, thanks to his inability to talk without his friends nearby. Lily hadn’t had many interactions with him, beyond the odd Gryffindor camaraderie at matches and being paired up in class, but there was something about the way he followed along behind his friends, as if he was completely spineless, set her on edge. Pathetic, she hated to admit, was one of the few words she associated with him, and she felt bad enough about it that she often went out of her way to be extra kind to him. Like now, as she gave him a small smile. Pettigrew gave her a toothy one in return when he spotted her.

“Oh, Evans! I didn’t know you liked watching Moony too!”

“Watching…?”

“Yeah!” He laughed, setting Black and Potter on edge. “These two are obsessed with watching Moony get all lovey--”

“You’re such a snitch!” Black yelped before he could continue, locking Pettigrew’s head in the crook of his arm, pushing his fist into the top of his head and rubbing until both of their hair was askew.

“I thought you were there to provide ‘moral support’?” Lily questioned, side eyeing Potter, who started to stutter again. 

It should have been obvious, she mused, that they were lying about being there for his friend. As long as she’s known them, they were always up to something. Niceties hiding deception, innocence hiding trickery. Even if he’d matured in the past term, actually being a good Head Boy despite her reluctance to admit it, old habits die hard.

“We really are! It’s just--...It’s just…” Potter’s stutter, despite usually making her want to roll her eyes, made her feel a little bad. After all, they were a collection of contradictions. Who's to say he couldn't be spying for good and bad reasons? She nearly pinched herself at the thought.

Black, noticing his friend's dilemma, loosened his hold to step closer. Pettigrew used the distraction to pull his head away, surprisingly knocking a leg out to trip Black, sending him tumbling into Potter, and both of them onto the floor.

“They're looney,” Pettegrew rushed out, a mischievous smile on his face. Potter and Black wiggled against each other on the floor, untangling limbs to stop their friend from saying more. “Obsessed with how Moony gets all soft. Did they tell you their favorite thing is when he stands behind to guide wand movement with his whole body? ‘Oh, Prongs, hold me like Moony does!’, ‘Pads, Pads! Do you think they’ll kiss later?’!”

“Snitch!” Potter shouted this time, launching himself across the floor towards Pettigrew’s knees, knocking them down. The two grappled on the floor, Pettigrew laughing while Potter stuttered apologies towards Lily, swearing they weren’t creeps, while Black rose beside her, cackling and cheering them on, an annoying ‘Fight! Fight! Fight!’ that brought on a migraine she did not need to deal with right now. 

“What are you doing?” All four of them froze, the unexpected stern voice rattling them to their bones. 

Lily was the first to turn, wince pulling her eyebrows to her nose as she watched Remus hurry down the hall, obvious exasperation on his face. She felt even worse as she spotted you trailing behind him. It was obvious they weren’t as quiet as they hoped, pulling you from the tutoring session Remus had gone through the trouble of renting a room for.

“Lily?” You called, evidently more confused to see her than the two locked in a wrestle on the floor. “What are you doing here?”

“I was--...I was just--…” She felt foolish stumbling over her words like that. It was a public hallway, she had every right to be here just as the others did, and she wasn’t one of the bubbling fools getting their uniforms dirty while they rolled on the floor. Well, she wasn’t one of the fools, but she had to admit she was very much bumbling.

“Why are you two always on the floor?” Remus said, exasperated. He reached down, hauling Pettigrew to his feet, much to Potter’s dismay, who had to rise on his own, Black still too busy eyeing you up. She could have sworn she saw Remus send a sharp glare in Black’s direction, but the harshness completely vanished as he looked at you again. Instead of the mean look he reserved for his friends, his eyebrows relaxed, face going rosy as he apologized. “I’m sorry, we’re meant to be studying.”

“Yeah, studying…” Black murmured under his breath, much too loud to be a private thought. Lily stomped on his foot not too discreetly in retaliation. “Merlin’s beard--!”

She turned to stick her tongue out at him, a very irresponsible thing to do as Head Girl but there was something about these troublemakers that made her feel like a little kid again, but before she could do more, Potter elbowed her harshly in the side. When she whipped toward him, he had an embarrassed flush on his face, evidently not meaning to hit her so hard, but he gestured quickly back to you. Only curiosity had her pulling her eyes away from him.

“It’s alright, Rem.” Lily watched as Remus all but melted at the nickname, easily dodging around the group to return to your side. His hand hovered over your shoulder, then dropped, either too nervous or too aware of the watching eyes to actually touch you. It didn’t stop his fingers, however, from twitching towards you as you gave him a smile. “It’s getting close to dinner anyway.”

“Sorry about them.” 

Black wiggled his eyebrows at Lily as Remus’s voice dropped to something sickly sweet, lower and smoother than she was used to hearing. However, as he flicked his eyes towards his friends, all in unison the boys whipped their heads away, whistling or otherwise pretending to not be paying attention. Lily flushed, then looked to her feet, disbelieving that she was following along. But, she hated to admit, this was much too good to walk away from.

“They're fun. And, we can always pick up where we left off tomorrow. No big deal.” You seemed to have no qualms touching him, your hand reaching out to squeeze one of his in reassurance. Lily lifted her eyes just in time to watch a scattering of goosebumps litter the back of his neck, just above the collar of his messy button up. “Same time?”

“Yeah, same time.” She could almost hear the sadness in his voice, easily picturing puppy ears sprouting from his head at how downtrodden he was at leaving you. You seemed to agree, laughing, and then reaching out to gently pat his face. “Have fun at dinner.”

“You could always join us, you know!” Black called out when you pulled away, surprising everyone by daring to speak out and break the gentle atmosphere that surrounded you two. Remus whipped his head around to glare, though he failed as his eyes widened in shock, motioning to cut it out. Potter hissed under his breath in tandem with Lily’s pinch to his side, but Black simply let a smooth smirk pull across his lips, ignoring everyone’s not so subtle hints. “Remus always talks about how much he misses you--”

In perfect unison, Lily stepped out of the way, latching onto your arm to pull you away, while James slapped one of his big hands across Black’s mouth, giving you a bright smile.

“--your tutoring lessons!” he gasped out, glancing at Remus quickly before returning his smile to you. “Loves--likes what a good student you are! Best one he’s ever had!”

“Potter was just telling me how good Remus was. Tell me about it?” Lily suggested, piggybacking off Potter’s obvious lie, tugging you down the hallway. You looked at her quizzically, obviously wondering why she suddenly was all buddy-buddy with you when you two hadn’t shared so much as a whole conversation before, but you didn’t press.

“Alright?” She felt giddy as a soft smile stretched across your lips, neck craned awkwardly so you could turn to look back at Remus, waving your hand. “Bye, Remus. Thanks again.”

“Yeah! Yes! Anytime!” Lily giggled to herself at the fumble, his hand waving a bit too frantically to be casual, but it seemed to only endear you more, nearly tripping over your feet so you could continue to look at him.

The two of you barely managed to round the corner before Black’s obnoxious voice rang out, “Way to go, Moony! You sly wolf!”

Yes, it seemed those marauding boys had a hobby of watching your interactions with Remus, somehow managing to do it in the creepiest, most intrusive way possible. But, she thought as you laughed, wistfully looking over your shoulder, she saw the appeal. 

And, if she found herself in this hallway again tomorrow, now, that was surely just a coincidence.

______________________________________________________________

masterlist  l hogwarts masterlist

[ashwhowrites]

Can you please write something where Chrissy continuously tries flirting with Eddie just because she doesn’t really like you (which she makes known every time you’re even in her general area) and thinks she’d be a better match for Eddie. Fortunately in the end, Eddie chooses you because you’re the love of his life and Chrissy is just some girl he liked in high school

Please please please?

You have asked with a lot of "please" so I will. I hope this is what you were looking for. I did tweak it a little where Eddie never liked Chrissy in the first place, so I'm sorry about that change

Never proofread

~~~

Y/N had a crush on Eddie Munson ever since she first saw him. She was a grade below him so they never had classes together. She'd watch him during lunch, drooling over his sweet eyes, soft nose, and kissable lips. She had a crush on him since last year when she accidentally walked into hellfire. She was searching for her class when she walked into the wrong room. Her eyes connected with his. He looked at her confused as she looked lost. He directed her to the right class but he never left her mind after that.

And now? She was part of hellfire, all for the purpose of the leader. She took the time to learn how to play and create her character. That doesn't mean she knew what she was doing. When she first joined she lied and said she's played countless times, but once he asked what her class and statistics were, it was clear she had no idea of an answer.

For the past few months, Eddie has been tutoring her on how to play. He said she couldn't be part of Hellfire until after she learned some more. Which she was fine with, alone time with Eddie standing behind her as he leaned down to point things out? God, she was in heaven.

The more she spent time with him the more she grew confident in flirting. She liked him, and he seemed to enjoy having her around. From what she has heard, Eddie doesn't care to talk with "sheep." And he didn't accept new people in Hellfire, but she must have been different. He must have liked something about her.

She'd scoot closer, always resting her hand on his thigh. Giggling at all his jokes and softly smacking his arm. She'd compliment his rings, running her fingers around his hands, slipping off his ring, and putting it on herself.

Their DND dates turned into real dates, sitting in his van as they shared a milkshake. Talking about everything other than DND. Some of the dates ended in making out.

Practically dating at this point, just not official, Y/N felt herself growing irritated at Chrissy's obvious advances toward Eddie. It was like she appeared out of nowhere. Squeezing herself in the way of her and Eddie.

Y/N hated to admit it, but it made her jealous and insecure. Chrissy was a cheerleader, popular, and knew how to have guys wrapped around her finger. And Y/N was just a girl a grade below that learned to play DND to impress her crush.

Eddie Munson had a cheerleader flirting with him, what kind of chance did Y/N even have.

Since Y/N was a member, she got to join the Hellfire lunch table. She sat next to Eddie, always sharing her lunch since Eddie only packed a snack and his drugs for his deals. Between lunch, hellfire, their DND study sessions, and small dates in his van, they were never too far apart. But Chrissy began to change that.

~~~

Eddie had his arm thrown over Y/N's shoulder as he walked them to his van. Hellfire ended late and he offered to bring her home. They were talking about the campaign as they walked through the parking lot. Only to be stopped when Chrissy bounced in front of them.

Chrissy's blue eyes stayed on Eddie and Eddie only. Not acknowledging Y/N's presence at all.

"Thank gosh I caught you, Eds, could you help me with my car? It's not starting and I really need to get home." A pout on her lips as she asked.

"oh yeah, of course." Eddie smiled. Eddie was a nice guy, no matter what people thought.

Chrissy smiled and ran off to her car, Eddie took his arm off of Y/N's shoulder and handed her his keys.

"Okay to wait for me in the van, gorgeous?" He winked as the keys landed in her hand. Y/N hated that the nickname and wink made her whole body burn.

"I'm okay to wait, Eds" a little more aggressive with the nickname than she hoped. Quickly walking to his van, praying he didn't hear the change in her voice.

Eddie watched her to make sure she made it into the van, once she shut the door, he turned and made his way to Chrissy.

Y/N hated but also was happy she could see them from his van. Her eyes burning as she watched Chrissy flirt with him the whole time. She couldn't make out words, but she could read body language. Chrissy was facing Eddie completely, leaning in close to him as he talked, probably about the car. Chrissy was twirling her hair, smiling the whole time, and never once looking away from him.

Once she tried her car and it began to run, she jumped out and threw herself in his arms. He looked caught off guard but hugged her back. Y/N hated the twisting in her gut.

Then she watched as Chrissy leaned up and kissed Eddie's cheek. Y/N decided that was enough for her eyes to see. Turning her attention to her backpack, pulling out her notebook and going over today's campaign in her head. Her eyes caught sight of the random doodles Eddie drew as they played. Her attention shifted when the driver side door opened and slammed shut.

Y/N greeted Eddie's arrival and put away her notebook. Her eyes catching as Eddie placed a piece of paper in his cup holder. Black ink written with a phone number and heart. Y/N felt her heart sink.

"I see you got the cheerleaders phone number? That's quite big." Y/N said, clenching her jaw as she tried not to sound incredibly jealous.

Eddie shrugged it off, starting to pull out of the parking lot as he said, "Just in case she has car troubles again, she wanted me to recognize her number."

But Y/N knew that was not the reason Chrissy gave Eddie her phone number.

"Oh.... car troubles." She mumbled to herself.

~~~

And she was right. Over the past few days, Chrissy flirted more with Eddie, still ignoring Y/N's existence.

Y/N was on Eddie's lap, his hands holding her hips as she rocked against him. Her tongue twirled with his as they panted into each other. Eddie moaned at the taste of her tongue, moving her hips faster against his growing bulge.

His lips began to move down her neck when his phone started ringing. He pulled away with an apologetic smile, lifting her off of his lap and setting her on the cushion next to her.

She cleaned off her lips and watched as he fixed his jeans and walked towards the phone.

"Chrissy? Hey."

Y/N could feel any sort of good mood she had just vanished. The urge to roll her eyes grew stronger with every minute.

Eddie wrapped up the call and returned to Y/N's side. Smirking as he went to grab her hips again when she shuffled out of his reach. He eyed her closely.

"What's up?" He asked, resting his hand on her thigh.

"So I see she just calls whenever now" Y/N huffed out, she wanted to sound calm, but she was failing. She could practically watch the wheels turn in his head.

"Um yeah, sometimes about random stuff. Is that upsetting you?" He asked, and he was genuinely asking. She could tell he wasn't teasing or mocking her. But it made her feel stupid to even answer. What would she say? Oh yes, you taking the pretty cheerleader's phone number is making me jealous.

"Nope, I'm fine." She brushed it off

"You sure? You don't seem fine." He tried, and that was a mistake.

Eddie watched as she jumped off the couch.

"My god! I said I was fine. I don't care that Chrissy flirts with you, rubs your arm during school, and giggles at your jokes at a lunch table she's not even supposed to be part of. I don't care that she calls you while we are in the middle of making out. I don't fucking care!" She snapped, slamming the door on her way out.

Eddie was quick to race after her. She sat on the ground, picking at the grass as he walked down his trailer's steps.

"Didn't make it too far." He tried to joke, but all she did was shrug.

"I realized you were my ride." She mumbled to herself.

"How about we talk about what just happened, and then I can take you home." He offered, sitting next to her.

"Nothing to talk about. I said I was fine." She said, turning to him with what she hoped was a convincing smile.

"Okay well even if you are fine, I would still like to talk about it. We were having a good time before Chrissy called and after that, you stormed out." Eddie explained

"Sorry that I don't feel like making out after precious Chrissy called." Y/N snapped.

"See! That right there. You are not fine. Chrissy upsets you....and it's because she flirts with me?" Eddie questioned.

"Look, I know it is stupid so can we just forget it? " Y/N sighed. She just wanted to go home and forget about this whole conversation.

"I never said it was stupid." He said softly, grabbing her hand that was yanking the grass and holding it in his lap.

"I just got jealous." She finally confessed

"Why?"

With that question, she felt like she could have smacked him.

"Why? Jesus Eddie, do you even pay attention? I fucking like you, I joined Hellfire to spend time with you. And we started getting closer and then Chrissy showed up with her perfect eyes, perfect smile, and perfect everything and just swept herself on in. How am I supposed to compete with that?" She rushed out, and the grip on his hand grew tight.

"Who said you had to compete with her?" Eddie questioned her, a teasing smile on his face.

She scoffed and shook her head, "Come on Eddie, it is between an average girl and a cheerleader. It's obvious who you will pick."

"I don't think I made it obvious enough, otherwise we wouldn't have to have this conversation."

"What?" Now she was confused.

"There is no competition, there is no Chrissy and I. You are wrong about everything. It's not between an average girl and a cheerleader. It's my girl and my girl only. I like you. I broke every rule I set about Hellfire just to let you join. I don't notice her, I never did and I never will. But I've always noticed you and I always will. If you so desperately want me to pick between my girl and just a cheerleader, I pick you." He spoke softly, practically whispering at the end of his speech. His hand cupped her jaw as he tilted her head to look at him.

She wasn't sure what to say so she didn't try. Just reaching up to press her lips against his.

After a few minutes, Eddie pulled away. "Will you be my girlfriend? Let me show you it's just you and you only."

"Yes," she whispered and pressed her lips against his again.

Maybe the competition was in her head all along, either way, she was in Eddie's arms and that's where she wanted to be.

Tags!

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @slightlyvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @manyfandomsfanvergent @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila

[zivazivc]

Say hello to my bug eyed baby boy 🐛👀👶

He was in an egg since September but about a week ago he finally hatched! 😊😅 jk jk but it did take me this long to finish this plushie of baby Leslie that I can hold close and snuggle. 🥰🧡

In the last few days I took him out with me so he could explore the woods for the first time, and so I could take some photos of him for you guys (and me lol).

No I could not trim this photo set even more, do you have any idea how many photos I took?? and he's precious in all of them. 🥺

I don't have a sewing machine or any other special equipment so he's entirely handmade with a pattern I made myself by trial and error, but I did use two of my plush toys as reference to study how they're stitched together.

I was pretty limited with my material choice because I had to find everything in Leslie's colors or at least the closest I could get to his colors, and I've realized that they're not very popular colors. His hair sadly ended up being the most off, but I'm still happy with it.

His body is something like sweatshirt fleece but the fabric being turned the wrong way so that the soft fuzzy side is on the outside. But I had no luck trying to find sherpa fleece fabric that would fit his coat colors so his fur is all embroidered using a stitch called turkey work.

And his lil pickle dreads are made with the same technique as friendship bracelets, just that they loop around. I've made so many friendship bracelets in my time that this wasn't hard to figure out how to do lol. And in the end I also sewed shiny pearls onto them to act as sparkles, since I'm not a fan of glitter or sequins. 😅

And lastly his hair is made out of genuine hand dyed sheep locks! Wondering how to tackle the hair gave me the most trouble. I was thinking of sewing it together out of fabric, or tying together fluffy yarn in the style of macramé and other ideas I can't recall anymore, but either the idea didn't sound good enough or I wasn't able to find the right material to try to pull it off. In the end I stumbled on sheep locks kind of on accident while browsing etsy and the idea was just too tempting. They're the only part of him that I ordered online and I was really worried it wasn't going to be what I needed, or that I won't like the color once I see it irl, won't like the feel, etc. But I'm super happy with how it came out in the end. Yes it's much lighter in color and now he's curly, but I think it really suits him, and it feels soft like actual hair. 🥰

Some details from up close:

[lucimaaie]

ellie as spiderwoman hcs ✧.* au

a/n- honestly was just an excuse for me to watch spiderman again and i took it, kind of switch between would’ve and did idk babes im just having fun atp

playlist | spidey masterlist

she'd have lost her mom at a young age and been placed with joel, who she never gets along with at first, thinking he's just a bil ol meanie who wanted an extra check every month.

that was until he showed he cared, not through hugs and affection in the traditional sense, but making sure she did her homework, picking her up everyday, getting her out of her room, checking on her when she'd been too quiet. "you okay, kiddo?" and "i heard talking helps." he'd say as he leaned on the door frame. eventually, she couldn't help but love him.

absolutely a nerd. though, when she got teased, she didn't exactly back down as expected which landed her in the detention a few times and some talking-to's. but she won and defended herself. no one could be mad at her for that. still, she was smart. she was going to be an astronaut after all. though that dream died in middle school.

high school came and she tried to straighten up. no more fighting bullies, even if they deserved it. she was better than that. she would get an internship, the internship that would line everything up, get her a scholarship so she could study aerospace engineering, get rich and get joel out of the old house on a patch of land with however many sheep he wanted. the same internship that got her bitten by a radioactive spider and shooting webs out her wrists.

words could not describe how much she worried joel when she woke up the day after, crushing her alarm clock, breaking the sink, the shower rack, everything. she skipped that day, hanging out on the rooftop of the house while joel was away stuck between having a panic attack from the sensory overload and telling someone, anyone. she decided on testing them out which earned her quite a few bruises joel luckily chalked up to another fight. "we gotta talk about this fighting thing sometime." she'd roll her eyes, saying something snarky before limping up the stairs. "say what you want but i win," "i heard that!"

also sidebar: ellie as a new yorker...whew. honestly ellie as anything- anyway.

hours or research ensue on cross-species genetics, spiderbites, different types of spiders, everything that made her feel disgusting. she slammed her laptop closed, crushing the poor thing.

it felt like there were a million things to do with her newfound powers but the only two on her mind was impress dina and swing from the rooftops. c’mon, she was 16 with the powers of a freaking spider. who said saving people would the first thing on her mind? she felt powerful, even weirder than she already felt but still powerful.

it was terrible, watching joel get more and more disappointed in her as she got distracted. “i’m a good kid! i just got distracted, gimmie a break.” “i have given you plenty. more than i should’ve. and that’s on me. that's my mistake to make you think that coming home late and fighting and blowing me off is okay.”

“i can't help how i turned out! don't blame me for being a shitty dad.” she yelled before slamming the door and stalking off into who knows where. she didn't even mean it, she was just stressed, she never meant any of it. hours later, she’d wish those words never came out her mouth.

she'd hoped she was having some cruel nightmare when she saw joel laid out on the pavement. "some help me! c-call an ambulance. don't just fucking stand there-" her voice was raw as she screamed out. "c'mon, don't die on me. y-you can't. i'm sorry? is that what you wanna hear? i'm sorry."

she hated the looks of pity, everyone's soft voices. people who never once talked to her suddenly caring. it was all fake. they didn't know her and they sure and hell didn't know joel.

she became another person for a while. quieter, more closed off. sometimes snappy. laser focused on finding the low-life took joel from her. that's when she started wearing the mask. the basic concept of it anyway and it caught on with the people, more than she imagined. ellie scoffed at the name spider-woman at first, thinking it was ridiculous. she wasn't some circus performer, she was just trying to find the killer.

dina as her mj, reaching out to her after joel’s death, inviting her over for dinner, talking to her in class, all of it. it wasn’t the same disingenuous pity she hated, she could feel she cared. so she allowed her feelings to fester. being with her actually helped. it was one more thing to balance with school and the internship and her mission, but it was more person in her life. she needed that.

one day ellie went running towards the trouble. not because joel's killer was there or cause of some adrenaline rush, but because she needed to do something. to not be helpless for once. she wasn't helpless. she hadn't felt completely in control of her body as she webbed a whole bridge back together and pulled cars back onto the surface, but in the end it was a like a high. it still ached to see kids running to their parents and everyone running to their families, but they were all safe. she did that. and that felt better than getting revenge and letting it suck the life out of her. so she'd wear the spandex and the mask and go by the stupid name. only cause it meant something now.

thank you for reading!

[flamingpudding]

Sooo I had this idea most likely inspired by a bunch of other fanfics I read...

Follow up part: 2

Ghost kid in Gotham

The Beginning

So far Danny counted two times in his live that he had died or at least sort of remembered dying.

The first time he died, he had been eight and in an horrible turn of events was forced into a fight to death with his twin. All because Danny couldn't be like his brother. He couldn't kill, he continuously nearly fails his missions if it weren't for his twin finishing of targets that were supposed to be his. The league had seen him as the black sheep of the family. He was no assassin material yet his twin brother still protected and adored him. But then their grandfather saw how he became a weakness for the true heir. All because Danny couldn't get his shit together during one mission they were sent on together. Resulting in his twin sustaining an injury.

So Danny was sentenced to death in an obvious fight the entire league knew he could nore would ever want to win. The fight had drawn out his twin at least attempting to get him to fight back to show their family that he was worth keeping by showing his skills, even if Danny couldn't kill, he could still fight excellently. But Danny didn't play along, instead he let his brother kill him with the final blow. He didn't even bother attempting to dodge.

His first death had probably been very cruel towards his brother, but at least it meant that his twin, Damien would live on.

Though he didn't expect that right before his body could grow cold forever, that their mothers still had somewhat of a heart and dunked him into the pits and revive Danny the first time. (Only later through Clockwork did Danny learn that he had been dropped in a pit of contaminated ectoplasm which probably was also the reason he even survived - well sort of survived - his second death)

He did come out as a feral kid though he barely remembered his time at the Chicago Orphanage. His former parents the Fantons had told him that he had been a feral kid the first year they had him. Apparently for the longest time Jazz had been the only one that could touch let alone get in hugging distance of Danny without getting bitten. Jack liked to show off the bite marks as lovely memories his sweet little Danno gave him the first time he hugged eight years old Danny.

The second time he died, he had been 14 and to this day he still thinks that a dare was one of the dumbest things one could die from. Of course his adopted parents weren't normal. They were ecto-scientists, studying ghosts or rather ecto-entities. And of course they were treading the line of mad-scientists with an entire lap in the basement and ecto-weaponry laying out and about throughout the entire house.

So when his parents build a portal to punch their way into another dimension that didn't work his friends just had to dare him to get in there to take a photo - or had it been a video - of it.

Who would have guests that the on batten was inside the damn thing instead of outside and that his stumbling and catching himself on the damned button would just so happen to punch open that portal with him in the middle of it all.

Let him tell you, getting electrocuted was not a fun way to day, nor is getting revived yet again by ectoplasm that was spewing out of the portal and mixing with his DNA. At least he got some cool powers from that accident and did not go feral like he did the first time round.

Danny shuddered, imaging if he had gone feral back then with Phantoms powers. Good he truly would have been the menace Amity still couldn't decide if he was or not.

Either way that were the two time he counted in his death tolls so far. Of course there were a couple of other times. Like that one time Sam made a wish. But he didn't really count them since well they didn't have any sort of big change that followed them.

But right now. He was probably close to his third accounted death. Strapped to the table. His chest pretty much sliced open and he was pretty sure that one of the tubes on the table across the room still contained his liver his Mo- Maddie had taken out and the other his arm that had been cut off by Agent K to test his healing.

Well he should have known better than to let his sister convince him that his adoptive parents would turn on him. Looks like that with their working with the GIW and him on the table they had finally broken the last bits of trust both Jazz and him had in them.

Danny had long lost the energy to plead with them, that it was still him. At least he would be a full ghost once the bloodless and missing limbs did him in. Really his human body wasn't as resistent as his ghost body. But at least staying in human form would protect his core. Really the worst that could happen was his human side dying right now.

Letting out a mute sigh Danny closed his eyes letting exhaustion take his mind into oblivion. The only sad thing was, that he never got to find out how his twin Damien was doing and if he was still with the league…

TIME OUT

When Clockwork first had set the path for this timeline he did not realize how damaging his king's parents' reaction was. As he looked at his king strapped to the table, cut open and even missing limbs, he for a brief moment regretted that he only ever watched the timelines and sent others to intervene. Rarely did he himself interfere but this time he had to. Otherwise his king would lose the part that made him the kindest among all the ghosts in the Infinit Realms.

Carefully he removed his king from the chains holding him down and took him with him. Away from the horrors he was facing and away from the Family that was supposed to preserve his king's kindness and humanity.

It looked like he had made a grave mistake but it was something that was still possible to fix. The timeline had yet to turn into a doomed one. And so Clockwork decided to take his king away and bring him to a place that would have a close amount of ectoplasm as Amity had as well as one of the strongest Spirits in existence to protect him until he was ready.

Looking down at the teen in his arms, Clockwork also decided that his king did not need the painful memories his supposed family gave him. A blue light engulfed his kind as Clockwork let his powers work. Turning the clock back only for his king. The missing limbs returned and his open wounds closed as the body in his arms shrunk.

In mere seconds the Master of time was holding his king at the age of his first death in his arms, yet the state was not the same. The scars of his second death were still present, telling that his powers as halfa were still present in his king's small bodies. With this his king would be ready to be dropped off to his next family. Hopefully Clockwork wasn't making a mistake again but keeping his king truly safe this time.

TIME IN

Lady Gothem was not impressed with the Master of Time as that old man dropped off the body of their king with little to no explanation. Last she knew her king was supposed to be a teenager, a halfa so powerful that the Infinite Realms were supposed to become a much safer place than they ever had been under any of the previous kings.

All the Master of Time had offered her was a cryptic - and honestly when was that old cogwheel not - message of protecting his king and returning him to his family. Really the next time she they meet she would not miss the chance to lecture Cronus. But for now she studied the young sleeping king in her arms, noting the similarities he held to the youngest of her knights.

Ah, so that was the family the old cogwheel meant. Well it looked that her knights were not only hers alone now but would also protect her king now. But who to bring him too, she mused. Surely her dearest among them would have no qualms taking the child in but he was currently not in their home. The little knights of other haunts have requested his help and called him away to that watchtower.

Mentally the city's spirit went through all her knights until her thoughts stopped by one in particular. The knight she was going to request help with from her king anyway. What better way was there than taking care of two problems with one action. He would surely take that child to the others as well as receive her king's help with his little contamination problem.

With her decision made, Lady Gothom made her move.

[rosesareredrosa]

theo nott x harrys twin based off of scared of my guitar by olivia rodrigo where like since shes a slytherin people dont rly like her and are rude and she and harry dont talk at all and she lies to theo saying shes ok but he finds her diary and finds out everything and he comforts her

You are NOTT Nothing

Theo Nott x fem reader

w/c: 1371

Being Harry Potter's twin sister meant living in his shadow, but being sorted into Slytherin meant living in isolation. I’d spent years pretending the whispers and the cold shoulders didn’t bother me, but the truth was, it hurt more than I could ever admit. I was the black sheep, the one who didn’t fit in Gryffindor like everyone thought I should. And worse, I wasn’t even accepted by my own housemates.

I could feel the stares on my back as I walked through the common room. The Slytherins watched me with narrowed eyes, some with curiosity, others with disdain. I wasn’t one of them, not really. I wasn’t the sharp-tongued, cunning Slytherin they expected. I was just Y/N Potter, the oddity.

But the worst part was that Theo was part of their group—the popular ones, the ones who ruled Slytherin with confidence and charisma. Theodore Nott, with his quiet intensity, was different from the others, but he was still one of them. He spent his time with Draco, Pansy, Blaise, Mattheo, and Lorenzo, the group that everyone either feared or admired.

I always felt out of place around them. Draco’s sharp wit, Pansy’s biting remarks, Blaise’s aloofness, Mattheo’s mischievous grin, and Lorenzo’s easy charm—they all made me feel like I didn’t belong. And Theo? Theo was the only one who ever seemed to notice me, the only one who looked at me without judgment. But even then, he was distant, part of a world I could never touch.

I’d gotten good at pretending it didn’t bother me. I’d perfected the art of smiling and nodding, of pretending everything was fine when inside, I was crumbling. I didn’t let anyone see the real me—not even Theo.

I’m scared of my own guitar, of all the things it says I am, I scribbled in my diary one night, reflecting on the lyrics that had been running through my mind. The song reminded me of how terrified I was of the expectations placed on me, how scared I was of not living up to them, of not being enough. Of all the things I know I’m not, I added, my heart aching with the weight of the words.

It’s like the strings know the truth, even when I lie to myself, I wrote, feeling the familiar lump in my throat. I hated how vulnerable I felt, how every time I tried to express myself, it felt like I was revealing too much. I’m scared that if I play, everyone will hear what I’m trying so hard to hide.

One day, I was sitting in the library, tucked away in a corner where no one could see me. I was supposed to be studying, but my mind was elsewhere. My diary lay open in front of me, the pages filled with my fears and frustrations, the things I could never say out loud.

Just as I was about to write something, I heard footsteps approaching. I quickly closed the diary, my heart racing as Theo rounded the corner, his expression unreadable.

“Y/N,” he said quietly, his eyes searching mine.

I tried to smile, but it felt forced. “Theo. What are you doing here?”

“I’ve been looking for you,” he replied, his gaze flickering to the closed diary on the table. “I... I found your diary in the common room the other day.”

My heart dropped. “You read it?”

He nodded, his expression pained. “I didn’t mean to invade your privacy, but... I couldn’t just ignore it. Y/N, why didn’t you tell me how you were feeling?”

I looked away, shame flooding through me. “Because you’re part of their world, Theo. You’re with Draco, Pansy, Blaise, and the others. You wouldn’t understand.”

He stepped closer, his voice soft but firm. “I’m with them, yes, but that doesn’t mean I don’t care about you. I’ve seen how they treat you, how everyone treats you. And it’s wrong. You don’t have to go through this alone.”

I shook my head, tears welling up in my eyes. “You don’t get it, Theo. I’m not like them. I don’t belong here, not in Slytherin, not anywhere. I’m just... nothing.”

Theo’s expression hardened, and before I could react, he reached out and took my hand in his. His touch was gentle, but there was a strength in it that made my heart skip a beat.

“You are not nothing,” he said fiercely. “You’re Y/N Potter, and you’re more than just Harry’s twin. You’re brave, and strong, and you’ve been dealing with more than anyone should have to. I hate seeing you like this, and I hate that you feel like you have to hide it from me.”

The tears I had been holding back finally spilled over, and I looked down, unable to meet his eyes. “I don’t want to be a burden.”

“You’re not a burden,” Theo insisted. “You never were. You mean something to me, Y/N. I know I’m part of that group, but I’m not like them. I care about you, and I want to help you.”

I took a deep breath, the words bubbling up in my chest, words I’d been too scared to say out loud. But looking into Theo’s eyes, I knew I could trust him. I had to let him in.

“I’m scared, Theo,” I admitted, my voice trembling. “I’m scared of everything. I’m scared of my own thoughts, of what they say about me when I’m alone. I’m scared that I’ll never be good enough for anyone, not for Slytherin, not for Harry, not even for myself.”

I could feel his grip on my hand tighten, his eyes softening as I continued.

“I’m scared that if I open up, if I let anyone see who I really am, they’ll hate me. I’m scared that I’m not strong enough to be who everyone thinks I should be. I’m scared that I’m nothing, Theo, that I’ll never be more than just the shadow of someone else.”

Theo stepped closer, his other hand gently cupping my cheek, forcing me to look at him. “Y/N, listen to me. You are not nothing. You’re not a shadow, and you’re not alone in this. You’re everything that matters to me. I know it’s hard to believe, but you’re worth so much more than you think. And you don’t have to pretend with me. I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

I stared at him, my vision blurred by tears. “But what if you see all the things I’m scared of? What if you see me for what I really am, and you realize I’m not worth it?”

Theo’s thumb brushed away a tear that had escaped down my cheek. “I already see you, Y/N. And I promise you, you are worth it. Every fear, every doubt, every single thing you’re scared to show, I’m here for all of it. You don’t have to hide from me. I’m not scared of who you are. I’m not going to run.”

Something inside me broke, the walls I had built up around myself crumbling as I let out a sob, stepping forward into his arms. He held me tightly, his embrace warm and secure, and I let myself fall into it, let myself believe that maybe, just maybe, I wasn’t alone after all.

“It’s okay,” Theo murmured, his voice soothing as he stroked my hair. “I’m here, Y/N. You’re not alone anymore. You don’t have to be scared. I’ve got you.”

I clung to him, my tears soaking into his robes as I let out everything I had been holding back. Theo held me through it all, never letting go, never pulling away. For the first time in a long time, I felt like I wasn’t alone, like I wasn’t just the shadow of someone else.

I had Theo, and in that moment, that was enough.

[oh-allie]

and then i go and spoil it all by saying something stupid like...

dr ratio x fem!reader

(sorry if hes ooc i didnt know how to bring out his assholeyness on a first date withour having the reader standing up and leaving his ass)

pt. 2 of then afterwards we drop into a quiet little place and have a drink or two

four days before the date.

you made veritas feel icky. his sweaty palms disgusted him, his jumbled thoughts made him feel like hiding in his study and never leaving, and the way even thinking of you made his heart race made him feel like a fool.

so he did what he does best, and he studied. he worked his ass off. researched breathing exercises and studied the human mind. the feelings he'd read about before, ones he swore he'd never stoop so low to feeling, were now what he seeked to bottle up. not completely, for he is still a man. just enough to not feel like such an idiot.

for the next four days before you two planned to meet, he practiced. in front of mirrors, lying in bed thinking of you; he worked day and night to get back to his normal self. he even suppressed his giddiness and raging thoughts about you enough to get two good days of work in.

7 hours before the date.

ratio is a methodical man. he plans and he executes.

he did not plan to wake up at 3 in the morning the day of your date. and he can’t get back to sleep. he's done his calming breathing exercises, he’s focused his muscle groups, hes counted sheep. he is NOT getting any more rest.

so now hes sitting on the edge of his bed, head in his hands like that one picture of shinji. a plethora of thoughts are racing through his head,

“what if i look like shit later today?

...i’ll need to wear concealer with my eyeliner today…

...i’m so fucking tired.”

but it's mainly you. what if he messes up, what if he's too rude or snarky? what if you don't really like who he is, like everyone else?

3 hours before the date.

you know how in films the dorky loser main character practices in front of the mirror before talking to their crush? veritas seemed to take it to heart, as he's standing here, leaning on his sink counter, staring at his own reflection (which he spent the last four hours on) and practicing what he’ll do.

his mind is organized and going over what he’ll do (although he's heavily suppressing the jumbled nervous thoughts that are running rampant in the back of his head) but it’s okay! ‘cause this doctor has a plan..!

talk about her outfit

ask her why she was interested in you

… the weather ?

surely the conversation will flourish from there. yeah. he’s totally prepared.

30 minutes before the date.

of course he’s 30 minutes early. if you’re early, you’re on time. if you're on time, you're late. and if you’re late? don’t bother showing up. that's his philosophy. although he's kinda hoping you don’t show up early too. his deep breathing exercises will take at least another 20 minut-

29 minutes before the date.

shit.

he watches as you enter the cafe, nodding to the barista and looking for a table. he notices you noticing him. your eyes light up and you sent a quick wave as you hurry over. but- wait, just a second- he’s not ready! he hasn't even started his affirmatio-

“hey! i guess we had the same idea, huh?” you chuckle, situating yourself and your bag onto your chair.

uh-oh, he’s just staring at you again. well, that's actually completely and totally 100% your fault! he was in the middle of DEEP-BREATHING. don’t interrupt a guy when he's breathing deeply.

“yes. we did. my philosophy on punctuality is that if you’re early, you’re on time. if you're on time, you're late. and if you’re late? don’t bother showing up.” he manages to get out. did that sound too snobbish?

“exactly! if you’re going somewhere, go with a purpose. even if that purpose is to get out as soon as possible, y’know?” you rest your head on your hand and make some relevant motion with the other one.

that's good! that's really good. he just had a conversation with you, just like he wanted. okay, okay. what now? what were his points?... outfit, interest, weather. outfit, interest, weather. outfit…

“are you going to order, veritas?” the sound of his own name from your tongue draws him back to reality. he’d like to hear that again.

“pardon me. yes, i’ll just take a black coffee.” he’s curt and in the back of his mind he's still deciding which point to bring up.

“sooo…. you look lovely. although i almost didn't recognize you without your alabaster head. i like it though.” you say, making small talk. he didn't mind it with you.

‘FUCK she beat me to it’ is what he’s thinking.

“thank you. you look beautiful, as always.” oooo he got you blushing and kicking your feet.

you let out a curt giggle at that, “so, why do you wear that? the alabaster head.” you cock your head to the side a little. you cutie patootie.

“i can’t bear to see idiots. of course, they wouldn't want to see me either.” he replies, matter of factly.

“they’re surely an idiot if they don't want to see you.”

haaah. veritas’ collar feels tighter and his head's getting hot. how's he supposed to react to that? do you have no shame?

and then he implodes because of your overwhelming beauty

okay guys i gotta be honest i have no idea how to conclude rhis ....so idk and then you guys bone or whatever you want ☺️

a/n - i'm so sorry about rhe ending gang but i quite literally could not think of any way to end this and ive been putting it off for weeks so i knew it wasnt getting finished.... whoops! 🤗

dedicated to 🌸 anon <3

(sorry for making you wait so long ml....... 😞)

[enamouredfae]

little astro observations i've made based on my little chart collection and experience 🎀

honestly i've observed this only in myself but you have a natural pull to people who's sun is the same sign as your 5th house, mine is in pisces and my bf, my best friend and my cat are all pisces, not to mention that 90% of my crushes have been pisces as well.

there is something about pisces and bunnies, they will either love bunnies (have tattoos of them, make art about them, be their favourite animal), own or have owned a bunny or they look like one, (my bf is all of the above).

in synastry a north node over a person's mars may indicate the north node person taking the mars person's virginity.

in synastry a person's moon in your 9th house may indicate they understand/feel/empathize with emotions in a different way from you due to where they come from and how they were culturally socialized, i have this with my bf and he comes from a north american individualist country where your emotions are your responsibility and other's are theirs and i come from a post communist country where you are responsible for everyone's emotions, and ppl live for other people.

in vedic astrology i am a hasta moon, claire nakti made a video on hasta nakshatra and describes hasta natives as "fairy pretty" and i have a pair of dragonfly fairy wings tattooed on my back, plus ive been told (before my tattoo) that i give off fairy vibes.

saturn ruled 3rd house makes you have to spend a lot of time in public transportation, for example you might live far from where you need to go, for me it used to take me 1 hour at least to get to some places, sometimes i'd have to wait an hour just to then spend on hour on the bus. just overall imposes patience for transportation

a lot of astro observation posts say that an aquarius 4th house makes you feel like u dont belong in your family or that you're the black sheep of the family, but i dont find that accurate at all, i feel like it makes the native the one to challenge family values, they may be the one to make their family change for humanitarian reasons

idk if this is a real technique already used by astrologers but i have a wholesign MC theory. in wholesign the midheaven can fall in the 9th/10th or 11th house. my theory is that wherever it falls is the way you get ahead in life, the way through which u become publicly known or get your career. If it falls in the 9th your career is owed to ur studies/travel, 10th your hard work/experience/reputation, 11th your connections/social media/friends.

i think i have the most literal astrological placements being passed down from your parents example. obviously placements dont always get passed down, my sister has none of their placements, but perhaps being the first child may have contributed to this since the first child is when parents still have their personality not yet influenced by parenthood. so my moon and my sun, which we know symbolize the parents amongst other things, are at the same degree and they sextile eachother exactly, which I think is an indicator that my parents are very harmonious together; they are still together and in love even now. furthermore, my moon and sun are the same signs of my parents' stelliums, i have a libra moon and my mom has a libra stellium, and my sun is in leo and my dad has a leo stellium.

sibling's ceres in your first is feeling like a parent to them, i constantly tell my sister she's my daughter, we even have an inside joke that i gave birth to her at 5, and my ceres is in her fourth, the house of motherhood so she definitely sees me as a parental figure.

me and my bf have eachother's jupiter in our 7th houses, besides being in a serious committed relationship, we want to start a business together. so i feel this is a great indicator for great partnership in both regards.

i feel like this is also a technique but i haven't really heard much about it, generational planets affect us through societal conditions/problems whereas personal planets affect us through personal problems. for example: let's go with two malefics, i have pluto in the first house which i feel would be very different from having let's say mars in the first house. the first house is amongst many things our appearance which i am insecure about. i have never in my life been told i am ugly, i am actually constantly told i am beautiful, and yet it does not click. it isn't through personal experiences that i have problems with my appearance but through consumption of society ideals. this is of course an oversimplification but you get what i mean.

chiron retrograde in natal changes our perception on trauma. me and my bf have the same chiron, his is retrograde while mine is not. he constantly says he is not traumatized, whereas i can tell i am. he 100% has traumas, the thing is that it's like he's left them behind? he just says it happened a long time ago so it's done. my observation is that retrogrades in your natal may make u leave things in the past or have a "it happened a long time ago it doesn't matter" attitude towards trauma. the thing is he acts like a non-traumatized person which is crazy to me.

i have a skin condition called dermatographia, also overall very dry itchy acne prone skin, i also have scars. here are a few placements that i have that i feel may be an indicator for skin conditions: mars ruled first house (traditional rulership) mars is inflamation and scarring, saturn in seventh saturn is dry and some people consider that libra(7th house) rules the skin, saturn opposite ascendant, saturn square venus i see venus as clear skin due to its aesthetical perfection.

saturn in 1st, especially conjunct ascendant indicates identity issues. borrowing elements of identity from people you admire, not feeling like you identify with the gender assigned at birth, not identifying with your birth name, etc.

having a libra 12th house can indicate traumatic female friendship. the 12th house is the house of hidden enemies, so you perceive these people as your friends, sometimes even best friends, so when they betray you it is very jarring and traumatic. having female friends that are jealous of you, female friends that pretend to like you, female friends that talk shit about you and even sometimes lie about u, friends that purposefully hide information from you, that want what you have, sometimes sabotaging what you have or trying to make u lose the thing they want, etc. this is a very difficult placement, because you love these people so much that you would've given up things, changed things or shared things with them if only they were honest with you. in the best of cases the friendship is real and full of love but you grow apart, and this is also painful because you can't control it.

venus square ascendant is people telling you they love you and you not believing them. just overall hardships around love and seeing yourself as loveable. double points when it also squares saturn making u think that if u are loved it's hard work or that people had to convince themselves to, that you're hard to love.

people with venus conjunct mars in first are stunning and have an androgynous vibe to them. sometimes this is visual, strong muscular body with graceful posture, but it can reflect in their personality, just strength imbued with vulnerability, people that surprise you, that are balanced.

taurus 6th house can indicate finding romantic partners in the workplace.

having a stellium in the 4th and no planets in the 10th, can indicate a strong connection to your mom and a disconnect from your dad, especially when the sun is in the opposite sign of your tenth house(in your 4th) feeling like your dad is not the way he should be.

🎀

please let me know what you think, im very curious how they hold up in other people's charts, critiques are welcome and invited.

[aziraphales-library]

Hello, I’m looking for fics where Aziraphale has religious trauma specifically around sex. I wanna see him and Crowley working through it to have a healthy sexual relationship. Preferably on the shorter side like 20k ish or less but not super picky about that part. Thanks!

Hi. Here are some fics in which Aziraphale has religious trauma and explores sex with Crowley. Most of them are on the longer side, sorry...

Snake Lessons by chamyl (E)

“That’s the point, Crowley!” Aziraphale snapped. “I’ve never done this before. I couldn’t. They kept track of what we did with our corporations, and I’m sure Hell doesn’t care, but Heaven was very much clear that angels are not supposed to indulge in sex.” Crowley didn’t know how to respond to that. He tried to start several sentences at once, producing an array of incoherent sounds that made no sense at all. When he finally regained control over his tongue, he asked, “Not once? In six thousand years?”

in your own time by ineffabildaddy (E)

Aziraphale and Crowley grew up together as next-door neighbours on Hogback Lane, classmates at the local Catholic school, and inseparable best friends. By the age of eighteen, both were hopelessly in love with the other, despite the knowledge that they were doomed to live apart, as Crowley aimed to pursue university study in London and Aziraphale committed himself to remaining in Tadfield, dedicating his life to the Church. After almost twenty years spent away from his hometown, renowned botanist Crowley decides to come and visit Tadfield again at a moment's notice; the purpose of his visit is to speak at a Careers Day for the school he and Aziraphale, now a beloved priest and a frequent helper at the school, attended. The twenty-four hours that follow will change both of their lives for ever.

Night and Day by wyrmy (E)

Aziraphale Engel, black sheep of his strictly religious family, lives a quiet and monkish existence in the middle of London, trying to avoid the many temptations of the flesh and do his bit for the church that his father founded. But his quiet, untroubled, and unhappily narrow existence is about to come to an end, and he will be faced with the choice to give up even more of who he is or to survive in the real world.

Ink Stained Bleeding Hearts by WillowTea (E)

Ready for a fresh start, Anthony J. Crowley opens shop across the road from a lovely tattooist, Aziraphale Fell. After everything he's been through, Crowley is not ready to fall head over heels for Aziraphale, but he can't stop himself. The two navigate their new friendship and budding romance while addressing past hurts.

Out of Suffering Into Love by Slow_Burn_Sally (E)

Aziraphale is a sexually repressed man who grew up in a religious household. Crowley is an artist with a sordid past. Both of them are afraid to love and be loved.

Hired Heart by GayDemonicDisaster (E)

As a result of his sheltered upbringing, Aziraphale made it to 50 without exploring his sexuality or coming out. After 50, all that changed - he's gay, he's out, and wants to find love. He also wants to have sex. He's a tad nervous about that. His friend Agnes suggests he consult a professional and get some no-strings practice and advice, and build some confidence. And her friend Tracy runs an agency… Crowley has quite the breadth of sexual experience: he’s a high class escort. He’s been in his line of work for a long time, though in this industry, that’s not exactly an advantage. He likes his work, but the more he’s reminded that he’s not as young as he once was, the more he contemplates his exit strategy. When his bookings manager and friend Tracy gives him a new, nervous client, Crowley finds him unexpectedly captivating. In fact, Crowley can’t seem to get him out of his head. A Smitten Crowley is also a very silly Crowley, so prepare for giggles and fluff along with your love story and smut... This fic is sex worker positive, disability positive, & a variety of genders and sexual preferences are referred to in back story.

- Mod D

[historynerdj2writing]

Ace, where are you from?

(Or, Congrats, Ace is now Welsh)

So, personal headcanon: The Queendom of Roses is similar to the Uk, by having it so that the different regions are culturally different, with the western bit resembling Wales, and all the cultural influences and stereotypes invoked, mainly mining, strong working class vibes (even if his dad is a magician) and the hobby of complaining about the southern parts of the Queendom (like how in real life many Welsh people have some choice words for the English, but then again, it’s the Uk, everyone complains about the English, including the English)

*Study session of the freshman cast at Ramshackle*

Yuu: Hey, Ace, so where exactly in the Queendom are you from?

Ace: The town of Lledr. Western area of the Queendom.

Deuce: Figured that.

Ace: Really, how can you tell?

Crewel: *Holds up a stone with some metal ore within it* Does anyone know what mineral this is?

Ace: Zinc, Copper and magnesium ore encased within slate.

Crewel, visibly surprised:… that’s… correct…

Deuce, whispering: How did you know?

Ace: Most of my neighbors and extended family worked in the mining industry back home, learnt minerals early on.

Deuce: …

*In the Heartslabyul dorm*

Student A: So there was this westerner…

Ace: Please stop.

Student B: Why, too offensive?

Ace: No, because ever since I joined this dorm, I’ve heard every joke about mining, sheep beastmen and choirs, and they are all bloody boring.

Cater overhearing this: …

*Ace and Epel talking about what their family does for a profession*

Ace: My da, he had a simple choice you see. The pit like his da, or do something else. My uncles died in that pit…

Epel: Thats…

Ace: So now he does magic tricks at shows now, very satisfying.

Epel: …

*At a table with Ruggie and Jack, where politics somehow was brought up*

Ace: I’ve done all with the current minister. He set the army on my uncles and their mates back in their strikes. All they wanted, was decent wages.

Ruggie: Honestly, same.

*Ruggie and Ace fist bumps *

Jack: …

*At a gym class*

Ace: There’s a lot you can do with a bit of a magic and a broomstick.

Sebek: Oh, what’s that?

Ace: Banks in bloody Southern Queendom for a start.

Sebek: Huh?

*Jamil, Floyd and Ace at basketball practice drinking water*

Jamil: Don’t know how you put up with all those rules at your dorm.

Ace: Simple, I’m from the west see. That means I put up with chinless, clueless Southern Queendomers telling me what to do.

Floyd: *Laughing like a hyena*

Jamil:… what does that even mean?

*Talking with Vil*

Ace: I can sing you know. Should have joined a choir, but I submitted the application at the wrong office. *smiles cheekily*

Vil: …

*In the kitchen with Trey*

Ace: Laverbread…

Trey: Hmm?

Ace: You can’t get laverbread around here, haven’t you noticed that? How’s a student supposed to study without proper food.

Trey: I thought you said you like cherry pie and cheeseburgers?

Ace: I do, and those are my favorites. But don’t you miss a little bit of home?

Trey: *Looks up Laverbread* Ayo what?!?

(Laverbread is a food product made with Laver, a type of seaweed, and is part of traditional cuisine in Welsh culture)

Ortho: Hey, apparently there is this town with a really long name.

Riddle: really?

Ortho: Yeah, here. *shows phone*

Riddle: How do you even pronounce it?

Ace, walking by but overheard it: Llanfairpwllgwyngyllgogerychwyrndrobwllllantysiliogogogoch

Riddle and Ortho: … How?

Ace/: Also, the last part was added for PR.

Riddle: So what was the original name?

Ace: Llanfairpwllgwyngyll

Riddle: (How do you even make some of those noises?)

*Back to the study session*

All of the Freshman minus Ace: No reason.

Ace: …

(I really hoped this was not one of those ideas that sounded better in one’s head, many of the quotes brought to you by the British Sapper unit in Company of Heroes 2)

[thisgirlnamedblusy]

Ohmygosh

Little sister Donna and big sis Alcina is a family dynamic I didn't know I needed before reading your stories.

Could I maybe ask for a story about Donna asking Alcina for advice on how to woo reader? I can just imagine nervous wreck Donna calling her sister when she realises she got a crush.

And thank you for your stories :)

Yesss!!!!! Don't thank me, I'm the one who has to thank you for reading them!!! Thank you for your request!!! I hope you like it and sorry about the language mistakes!!!!

A little help from my sister

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem! Reader

Warnings: Some angst, fluff, Donna's POV, Donna being Donna

Word count: 7,892

Summary: I can't tell her... I need someone to help me...

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

Mother Miranda's words echoed in the four walls of the church. Always the same prayers, always the same phrases.

I sat next to my siblings, I don't even remember if I ever occupied another seat, if I was ever in the place of the villagers. New faces, different faces, children who grew up, old people who never returned... A bitter cycle of life and death, a cycle that I was condemned to endure, forever.

Donna Beneviento, Lord, doll maker, that was me. I wondered if I was ever something else, something more than a dark shadow next to some monsters, or, on the contrary, if I was just one more of them.

My appearance confirmed my fears. My face stopped being that of a woman, a human being. It had been too long, I had already gotten used to the veil that covered it, and also, to the loneliness.

Yes, I had Angie, my dolls, but, it was not enough to make me not realize that I lived in a house too big for me. Like everything else, it soon stopped mattering to me.

Torturing, killing, reading, working, sleeping, what a routine. Too many years had passed for me to regret the sentence that Mother Miranda cast upon me that night, the night I stopped being a person, to become a monster.

My only eye wandered around the church, to those faithful faces, devoted to the Black Gods. I liked to play at seeing who would return, and who would not. I suppose that is what a monster does, study its victims.

But, for some time now, one of those faces had caught my attention: a village girl, hidden in a bunch of stupid people a young, beautiful girl, one who always came back, one who decided to behave and not try to escape from that place.

Every week I looked at her, every week I got lost in her dress, in her gaze… It was like an addiction, an addiction that always made me thankful for existing, for having lived long enough to see her grow, to be lucky enough to see her beauty. I knew they were stupid fantasies but… Well, at least I had a reason to leave my safe place, to leave my house.

“Donna, dear,” a soft voice distracted me from my feat, from the weekly vision of her body, her face, one that was increasingly sad, increasingly beautiful.

My sister Alcina was always there to remind me that girl was unreachable. She was an angel, I was a monster.

“What are you looking at?” the lady of the castle asked, positioning her eyes in the same direction as mine. I shook my head, said nothing, did nothing, as always. “Am I missing something interesting?”

“No,” I whispered hoarsely, in a voice I didn’t usually use. I couldn’t make Angie speak for me, it would draw too much attention and, although it didn’t seem like it, Miranda kept talking.

“Mm,” Alcina murmured, squinting, searching hard for the reason for my distraction. Luckily, she didn’t get to do it.

“We wait for the light of dawn…” they all said at the same time, all except us, of course. “In life, and in death, we give glory, Mother Miranda.”

“May the Black Gods have mercy on your soul,” the priestess said, stretching out her arms. I know she enjoyed it, I know she enjoyed making the villagers just be a stupid flock of sheep.

“Let the lycans devour our flesh,” the villagers repeated, finally getting up from the pews.

At least that torture was over.

“What do we do now, Donna?” Angie asked, leaving the church in my arms, containing that euphoria that always accompanied her.

“Let’s go home,” I whispered discreetly, my gaze fixed on those villagers, searching for something, searching for her gaze.

“Home? How boring,” the doll protested, crossing her arms. I shook my head, with an amused smile.

“I have a lot of things to do,” I whispered again, walking away from the crowd, disappearing like a shadow, like the shadow they said I was, the shadow of a monster.

“How are you going to do it, silly Donna? We don’t have any fabrics, remember?” the doll said, pointing at me with her finger.

I sighed, realizing that she was right, that my time in the village was going to be prolonged. I hate the village, I hate the villagers. I hate people.

“Okay…” I murmured, looking around for the Duke's carriage. “I'll talk to the Duke and then we'll go.”

“Yes, yes, Duke, Duke!” Angie said, excited, as always.

At least it would only be a moment, at least all the villagers seemed to have better things to do than wander around the village…

“It has to be a joke,” an unknown voice reached my ears as I approached the carriage. It was a sweet voice, but somewhat nervous.

“I never joke, (Y/N), and even less so when we talk about money…” the merchant said.

I stood on the ground. It was her, it was that beautiful girl from the church, she was there, alone.

“What are you doing?” Angie asked, seeing that I was unable to move. I had never had her so close, I was never able to see her beauty so close to me. “Come on, Donna, move…”

“Oh, certo…” I sighed, walking again.

The girl seemed nervous, that calm look she always entertained me with seemed disturbed. I approached slowly, trying to make my presence go unnoticed.

“1000 lei for a medicine?” the young woman asked, showing the merchant what looked like a bottle of pills.

I pretended not to hear, I hid in the shadows of the carriage, looking, touching the fabrics I needed. Surely the Duke had already noticed my presence, but, as always, he ignored it. It was the best for him, and he knew it.

“Medicines are scarce resources, (Y/N). They are not easy to get,” the man said, shaking his head, looking at me out of the corner of his eye, with a shy gesture of greeting. I returned it, touching those fabrics, trying to concentrate on my task, and not on those bright eyes.

“I don't have that money,” the girl said, (Y/N), apparently, a beautiful name for a beautiful woman.

“Oh, but didn't you have a vegetable store?” the Duke asked, counting coins mockingly.

“Of course I have, but we can't do anything if my father’s sick,” the girl said, crossing her arms. “Please, he is, he is very... The, the fever is consuming him.”

“It's a pity, (Y/N)…” the merchant sighed.

“Please, Duke, he, he's dying…” she said, clasping her hands together, her eyes shining from the moisture of the tears that were beginning to form in them. It was a sight that stopped my heart, but which I pretended not to pay attention to.

“I'm sorry, dear, but I don't do favors… It's 1000 lei,” the fat man sighed, shaking his head.

“Do you have no feelings?” she asked, clenching her fists on either side of her hips.

“In this job, (Y/N), you better don’t have them…” the Duke sighed, disinterestedly.

“Ugh…” she growled, kicking the snow. “Damn it.”

“Do you want anything else?” the merchant asked. “I have more customers to attend to.”

“Fuck you!” the girl yelled angrily, making me shift in place, stop caressing the soft fabrics.

“There's no need to be rude, don't you think?” the Duke said, amused, as the girl walked away from him, heading towards me and hitting my shoulder as she passed by.

“Hey, stupid villager! Watch your step!” Angie shouted, pointing at her in a contemptuous manner.

(Y/N) didn't turn around, she continued on her way among sobs and curses.

That incredible beauty was suffering, crying, very far from her usual tender smile, her eyes were red from rage. I didn't know why, but I couldn't stand it.

“Well...” the Duke laughed, amused by her suffering. I growled with rage, approaching him in an unpleasant way. “Lady Beneviento, I beg your pardon for this incident… Are you here for fabrics for your dolls?”

I nodded, following the young woman with my eyes. She seemed so desperate…

“We'll take them all, Duke!” Angie shrieked, with an exaggerated gesture of her arms. He laughed with satisfaction while I, in the most abrupt way possible, threw him a bag of coins.

“Good… Good,” he laughed, satisfied. “I'll come by this afternoon to take them to you… Do you need anything else?”

“Anything else, Donna? Anything else?” Angie said, moving in my arms, starting to get nervous.

I gently shook my head, but my gaze fell on that bottle of pills, on that medicine, on the reason those beautiful eyes were crying. Slowly, I leaned down to pick it up and look at it. It looked like a medicine to lower the fever, she wasn't lying.

“Are you feeling sick, my lady?” the Duke asked, studying my gestures. I shook my head slowly, looking at the place where she had disappeared.

“We're taking this too,” Angie said, with my voice, speaking for me as I showed that vermin the bottle of pills. The Duke frowned, but nodded disinterestedly.

“Of course…” he whispered without paying attention, counting that huge amount of coins that I had thrown at him. Of course, I should have imagined that a Lord would never pay 1,000 lei for something as basic as a medicine.

Moving away from the carriage, I looked for (Y/N) with my eyes, looking for her footprints in the snow and slowly following them.

“What are you doing, Donna?” Angie asked, taking the bottle of pills and examining it comically. “What’s this?”

“There you are…” I whispered when I saw (Y/N) walking slowly towards a cabin, stopping to rub her eyes. The sadness she conveyed shrank my heart. No, she couldn't cry, she shouldn't cry. Her beauty couldn't be destroyed by tears, by helplessness.

Little by little, I approached, reaching out my hand to rest on her shoulder, calling her attention. She turned around and the sadness turned into fear, immediately moving away.

“Lady Beneviento,” she whispered confused, shaking her head, searching behind her for a way to escape. There wasn't one, she was trapped. “I... I don't...”

I didn't say anything. I simply stayed next to her, with a calm pose, unintentionally intimidating her, scaring her.

“Silly villager,” Angie said among mocking laughs. I shook her discreetly to shut her up. No, I didn't want to scare her. I didn't want her to be afraid of me.

“Gods, I…” she sighed scared, kneeling on the ground, pressing her hands together, lowering her head. “I'm sorry, I'm sorry I hit you, I didn't mean to.”

I sighed, hurt by that attitude, by the reality I was unable to see when I looked at her in the church, by knowing that those eyes would never look at me any other way, that they would only see… A monster.

“Please, my, my father is sick, I have, I have to take care of him, please, don't hurt me,” the young woman begged, lowering her head even more. That situation began to overwhelm me. I didn't know why I did what I did. Maybe I should never have done it.

“Taci,” I whispered with my voice, speaking for myself, controlling Angie's movements. She was impatiently waiting for her turn to scare the girl.

“I beg you, have mercy, have…” she murmured trembling with fear, trembling in fear for me.

Not wanting to see that look, to notice those tremors in her body, I just threw her the bottle of pills, one that she picked up confused, blinking repeatedly.

“What…?” she sighed shaking her head.

I had seen enough, I had received the fear of those beautiful eyes, of that beautiful face. I didn't want to stay there, I couldn't do it, I couldn't remember that I will never stop being a Lord, that she would never… Never notice me.

I turned around with a sigh, walking away from her, ignoring her.

“Wait! Wait a minute! Why?” she said nervously, while her voice became more and more camouflaged. “Wait! Wait, please!”

I didn't hear her, I kept walking. I had seen enough, I had to go home.

The days were a terrible, but comfortable routine. After that encounter I couldn't think of anything else. I acted automatically, helping that beautiful young woman, the one who didn't know I already knew, the one who didn't know had been the only image in my mind for a long time.

While I was making my dolls, I thought about her, her scared face, her bright eyes, her pleas... The porcelain I was working with stopped being soft, it stopped relaxing me, I was nervous, and I didn't know why.

“Donna, Donna,” Angie said, distracting me from my tasks, from my thoughts. “What are you doing, silly Donna?”

“Look,” I said with a smile, showing her my new creation, one with those new fabrics I bought from that horrible man, that man who made (Y/N) cry. “Do you like it?”

“Ohh...” the doll sighed, taking the object carefully, nodding effusively. “It's cool.”

“Cool?” I asked, amused, shaking my head and picking up the doll from her hands, arranging its new hair. “I guess so.”

“It looks like the idiot from the other day,” Angie commented, making my hands shake. Same hair, same eye color, same dress. I frowned, sighing, leaving that new doll carefully on the table.

“Maybe it does,” I commented, feigning disinterest.

“She’s a pretty girl, don’t you think, Donna?” Angie hummed, climbing onto my lap and nudging me. I shook my head, unable to stop my cheeks from blushing.

“Yes, she is,” I whispered, in a sad, bitter tone, acknowledging for the first time that maybe, just maybe, I was starting to have feelings for her. It was crazy, it was impossible but… Well, I was crazy.

“You like her,” she mocked in a shrill tone.

“What if I like her?” I asked ironically, with a serious look, taking out my frustration on my only friend. “It doesn't matter.”

“She might like you…” Angie whispered amused. It could be a joke, an attempt by the doll to cheer me up, but I didn't see it that way. Angry, I hit the table with my closed fist, breathing with difficulty.

“Don't… Say… Nonsense,” I hissed, glaring at the doll, who immediately got off my body. “It's impossible.”

Admitting reality was important, stopping dreaming, stopping thinking about her could be a good solution. She would never notice me, she would only be afraid of me. She would only run away because of my appearance, she would never get close. For her I would always be a monster, there was no solution, there was no other way.

If I didn't forget her, I would be in trouble. My obsession would grow to madness, until... Until maybe my disturbed mind decided to hurt her for hating me. I didn't want to get to that point. I fought with all my might to forget those bright eyes.

I couldn't do it.

The following week came without me realizing it. I was so lost in her gaze that time passed like a sigh. Everything reminded me of her, my hands could only paint her face on my dolls. I could only give them the color of her eyes. I was losing my mind. I was losing it for her. Every night I counted the hours left to see her again, to watch her from afar again.

It would be the closest I could be to her, and I knew it, I always knew it.

There she was, in the third row. Her eyes no longer betrayed sadness, that tender smile had returned to her face. But something else happened, something that caught me off guard. Her head turned, her eyes rested on mine, she was looking at me.

Her smile crossed me. It grew bigger when it made contact with my dark figure.

I, shy, embarrassed, looked away, I couldn't keep it, I couldn't stand that light, that smile, those eyes that stared into mine, that seemed to even pierce my black veil.

“Anything interesting over there?” a velvety voice pulled me out of that timid exchange of glances. Alcina, as always, seemed more attentive to my movements than to Miranda's speech. Well, I couldn't blame her for that.

“No,” I answered, as usual.

“No? Well, I think there was a little bird that kept an eye on you, dear...” Lady Dimitrescu whispered, laughing softly, looking at the same place, where your gaze lowered, surely intimidated by my sister's dangerous eyes.

“It's the fool that Donna likes,” Angie said, climbing the lady up to her ear. I got very nervous, but I didn't want to draw attention. Miranda's grey eyes had already fixed on our movements.

“Really?” Alcina said, laughing softly, arching her eyebrows. “How interesting...”

“Angie, basta,” I reprimanded the puppet, taking her down from my sister.

“Is everything okay?” Miranda asked, with an annoyed tone.

I nodded nervously, controlling the doll's protests. Miranda sighed, spreading her wings to end the speech, mobilizing the villagers, making (Y/N)'s gaze get lost among the people.

Not wanting to find her, wanting to wait for everyone to leave, I stayed seated. Unfortunately, Alcina stayed with me.

“You should come to the castle for tea, Donna, I think we have a lot of things to talk about,” the lady in white said, finally standing up, when it seemed that all the people had left.

I shook my head, doing the same, ignoring her proposal.

“There is nothing to talk about,” the doll whispered, speaking for me. I was too nervous to do so, nothing strange.

“Oh… I think… There is…” Alcina sighed, placing a hand on my shoulder, pointing to a figure that remained standing near the pile of offerings to the Gods, (Y/N). “I think someone is waiting for you.”

I froze, watching as those beautiful eyes looked back at mine, as her shy gaze rested on me, only on me.

“I have things to do,” I whispered indifferently, trying to turn my body to face the door, something that I couldn’t do. Alcina's huge hands settled on my shoulders, pushing me closer to her, too close.

“See you, dear,” my sister whispered, amused, bending down to cross the door, to leave me alone with her.

When the vampire walked away, (Y/N)’s body turned towards me, her hands playing clumsily with each other, her lips were pressed together, and her head remained looking at the floor. I stood still, wanting to get out of there, but at the same time wanting to stay, to enjoy her beauty a little longer, just a little longer.

“My, my lady,” (Y/N) said, with a clumsy whisper, with her nerves making her body tremble. “I, I would like to talk to you.”

“To us? What do you want, silly, silly?” Angie said, with an annoyed tone, scaring her.

“Well, I…” she stammered, playing nervously with her gaze. She didn't know who to look at, who to talk to, me or Angie. I couldn't blame her.

“Talk to her, silly, silly, she doesn't bite, but I do...” Angie said amused, chattering her teeth, making her back off. I, tired of the puppet's irreverent attitude, lowered her to the floor.

“Angie, leave us alone,” I ordered her in an almost imperceptible whisper. The doll looked at me and then at her shrugging her shoulders and moving away.

“My, my lady, I... I wanted...” the girl said, coming a little closer to me, not daring to look at me. I could still feel her fear, the subtle trembling of her body. “I wanted to thank you.”

Her voice was beautiful. It penetrated my ears like soothing music. I nodded slowly, clasping my hands in front of my body, feigning a stoic pose, the pose that was expected of me.

“My, my father is much better thanks to the medicine and… It, it wouldn't have been possible if… If you didn't…” she stammered, running one hand through her hair, searching with the other for something in her pocket. “I'm not going to ask your reasons but… Still, I still thank you, really.”

“It doesn't matter,” the words came out of my lips, I didn't have to make any effort, I had to seem stronger than her, braver even if I wasn't, even if her beauty intimidated me much more than the Black Gods.

“Yes, Well… I…” she said, with a nervous smile, unable to meet my gaze. “The, the Lords don't usually help poor villagers like us… It's… It's a gratifying surprise and…”

I relaxed my shoulders. No matter what she said, she still feared me. I could see it in her eyes.

“I'm sure you've heard terrible things about me,” I said without thinking, letting out a feeling of frustration for not being able to hear her speak clearly, for hearing her beautiful voice without fear on it, in her words.

“Well... I have,” she admitted, looking away again. “I, I guess they're wrong.”

The smile returned to her face, her gaze lit up again, as did mine. She couldn't see me, she couldn't see the blush on my cheeks. She couldn't see my errant eye not knowing where to look.

“I just felt sorry for you, that's all,” I said with a calm voice, but angry at the same time. I never knew how to act, how to deal with people, how to behave in front of her beautiful presence, in front of those bright eyes.

“Pity is something you can’t see usually in a place like this,” she murmured, shaking her head, saddening her expression and taking something out of her pocket. “I... I wanted, I wanted to give you this.”

(Y/N) extended her hand towards me, a hand in which there was a kind of bracelet made with small bones and decorated with black feathers. I picked it up, touching her soft skin, one I didn't know.

“I wish, I wish I had something else to give you, but, well, I, I made it myself,” she said nervously while I looked at that curious bracelet. I was so focused on her gift that I didn't even notice how close we were.

“Ohhh, a gift...” Angie murmured, appearing out of nowhere, startling the girl, who relaxed instantly nodding with a sincere smile.

“It's, it's for you... My, my father says it brings good luck and... Well, it's, it's what I wish for you, Lady Beneviento,” she said elegantly, lowering her head again while I played with that bracelet in my hands.

“Just a bracelet? Hey, silly, silly, we saved your father's life,” Angie joked, pointing at her with her finger.

“Angie...” I sighed annoyed, dedicating a fiery look to the doll, who was hidden behind my dress.

“No, She, she's right, my lady,” the girl said, putting a hand on my arm, drawing my attention with the heat of her skin through the fabric of my dress.

(Y/N), realizing her boldness, immediately withdrew it with an apologetic look.

“It's, it's nonsense, and, and it doesn't show the gratitude I feel,” the young woman, shaking her head.

“I don't need your gratitude,” I murmured in a somber, clumsy voice.

“I, I know but... Well, if you want me to do something for you... I, I’ll do anything you want,” (Y/N) offered, with open eyes, staring at me, waiting for an answer that wasn't a dark murmur.

“Ohh,” Angie sighed, coming out of her hiding place. I squeezed the bracelet tightly, nervous. “Anything?”

The girl nodded under the doll's soft laughter. I really wanted to deactivate her.

“Then you have to have tea with us, silly,” Angie said, walking cockily.

“Tea?”

“Angie, basta,” I protested, trying to reach the doll, who laughed amusedly as she ran away from my hands.

“It would be an honor to have tea with you, my lady,” (Y/N) said, making me stop, looking at her slowly, surprised by that answer.

“You…” I whispered distrustfully. “Do you want to come… Come to my house… To… Have tea?”

She nodded with a sincere smile, sighing.

“Yes, my lady, it is the least I can do, my lady,” she answered laughing amused, surely due to my sudden nervous attitude, far from my position as a Lord.

“Is this afternoon okay with you, silly?” Angie asked, standing in front of me.

“Of, of course,” she said, shaking the wooden hand that Angie extended to her.

“Cazzo, Angie, can't you keep quiet?” I said furiously, entering my house again, returning to the safety of my home, to its comforting darkness.

“Donna is swearing…” the doll sang while I got rid of the black veil, thus revealing my flushed face.

“Shut up, you're driving me crazy,” I protested, moving my leg against the floor.

“You should be grateful, silly,” Angie mocked, pointing at me with her finger. “I got you a date with your sweetheart.”

“A date? Don't talk nonsense...”

No, of course it wasn't a date, it was a duty, a deal that (Y/N) and my doll made. Having tea didn't mean anything. There was nothing that told me there was any chance that... Nevermind.

“Sit down,” I ordered the girl when, punctually, she appeared at the estate with a slow, shaky walk. No matter how much she denied it, she was still afraid of me.

The girl obeyed, looking around curiously. I couldn't blame her, but my sick mind saw that attitude as a threat.

“What are you looking at?” I asked, annoyed by her beautiful, indiscreet eyes. She shook her head with a shy smile, a slight blush on her cheek.

“Oh, nothing, I was just... curious,” she replied, settling down on the couch, suffering from my dark presence in front of her. “You have a very... beautiful house, my lady.”

“Sugar?” I offered, ignoring that complacent comment. She nodded, sighing in relief at not having to continue with those false words about the darkness surrounding me.

“Yes, please,” she said, bringing her cup closer to me, letting her skin brush against mine again. It was a too good feeling for me, one I hadn't felt in a long time.

Time passed slowly, in silence. Neither of us was willing to talk. I could feel her discomfort, I could feel it from afar. I could sense the trembling of her hands.

“You're nervous,” I said, moving my veil aside so I could drink some tea, a gesture at which she looked away as a sign of respect. Of course, she didn't want to see me. She couldn't see that I was... A monster.

“I'd be lying if I said I’m not, my lady,” the girl said in a soft voice, playing with her hands on the fabric of the sofa.

“You're afraid of me,” I said again, in a darker tone.

I had to know, I had to hear her voice telling me how much she feared me, I wanted her own words to end this obsession I felt for her.

“I don't know anyone who isn't afraid of a Lord, my lady,” she said in a soft voice, looking away as she sighed.

“But you came to have tea with me,” I said, looking for a way to stop being me, to stop scaring her. There was no way to do it, I was a monster, and she knew it.

“Well, I promised to do it,” (Y/N) said, leaving the cup on the table.

“You could have not come,” I said, crossing my arms, waiting for the moment for her to run away, to flee from me, to make sure she could never feel anything for me.

“I never break my word, my lady,” she whispered, raising her gaze to me, catching me in her eyes again.

“I see,” I sighed, removing that beautiful glow from my face. “(Y/N), right?”

She nodded shyly.

“I'm surprised you remember my name, my lady,” she said amused, more relaxed, smiling again.

“Why are you surprised?” I asked curiously. “It's a beautiful name.”

“Thank you, my lady,” she said shyly, blushing at my clumsy compliment. “Well, I normally doubt that the Lords would care about the lives of some poor villagers.”

I laughed, shaking my head. I wished I wasn't a Lord, I wished she would stop shaking every time she spoke to me.

“But, but, well... I didn't expect one of them to save my father's life either, so...” she murmured, frowning, being very careful with her words.

“Stop it. I've already told you that it's not important,” I protested, nervous, trembling, almost panicking. She had been near me for too long, letting me contemplate her beauty for too long.

“For me, it is,” she said, with a serious tone, with a serene look, stopping shaking. “Seeing some light among so much darkness is... comforting.”

“Light?” I asked with an ironic tone, with an accent that was too marked, revealing my nerves. “Don't talk nonsense. There is no light in this place.”

“I can see light in you,” she murmured, leaving me speechless, giving silence a new opportunity to fall upon us.

It was a different afternoon, too silent, too strange. Silence reigned, only interrupted by your soft words, by your smiles that tried hard to get me to return them. They succeeded, I smiled, too many times, more than I thought I would do in my entire life.

She would never know. She would never be able to see my smile, my tender, studious gaze, my eye that tried hard to retain in my head all the details of her skin. She was perfect. She was sweet, kind, with a big heart. My obsession worsened, now I saw her in dreams, on my dolls. Without living without her, she was with me, always in my mind, in my thoughts.

But those feelings that I refused to have were finally released when she decided, on her own, to come to my house from time to time, to have tea with me without me asking her. It was a miracle, a stroke of luck, something that shouldn't happen. She couldn't want to see me, she shouldn't want to. She was an angel and I was a monster.

As time went by, laughter and kind words replaced the tension, the nerves her presence caused me, the fear that mine caused her. Her comments about her life became more and more frequent. A relaxed pose began to form on her body. She was no longer afraid, she no longer feared me.

(Y/N) said that I was light, that I was different from the rest. I would have liked to believe her words.

“I had a great time, my… Lady,” she said timidly as we walked to the door. Two months of visits and she still called me that… I hated it.

“Donna,” I said, wanting to get that nickname off her lips, not wanting her to keep calling me that. I really hated it.

“Donna,” she repeated, with a shy smile, nodding. “I hope you like the vegetables, Donna,” she said, pointing at the box of vegetables she started to bring me, some that, according to her, were possible thanks to me.

“I'm sure they're delicious,” I commented with a different tone, calmer, pleased by her presence, sad because she was leaving. I didn't want her to leave, that was my biggest torture.

“Do you want to stay a little longer, silly?” Angie asked, peeking out of my dress. I should thank my doll. Angie did everything possible to make her stay with me a little longer, even if it was just a few minutes. “We can play cards.”

“Oh, I'm, I'm sorry but... It's, it's late, I have to go,” (Y/N) said, bending down to be at the doll's level. “We'll play tomorrow.”

I sighed, watching her walk away again, how she disappeared into the fog, how she abandoned me. The promise she would return the next day was no longer enough for me. Her ephemeral presence, her shy smile, her gaze, soon became an addiction that I could no longer bear.

I could do something, I needed to do something, but I couldn't. Every night, like that one, I looked at myself in the mirror, contemplating my deformed face. What would be the point of spending more time with her? Sooner or later she would discover what I am like, my horrible appearance, the face of... Of a monster.

I knew I was deluding myself, I had to stop dreaming of her, of her saying those words I so needed to hear. It wasn't possible, it would never be possible.

“Cazzo!” I screamed furiously, hitting my reflection, breaking the cruel mirror into a thousand pieces, furious, losing control again, the control of not being able to... Love her.

“Porca miseria! Ti odio!” I shouted, taking out my frustration on the vanity table, letting the crystals fall to the floor, sparkling, camouflaging themselves with my tears.

I hated myself, I couldn't stand myself. I couldn't stand seeing my ruined face, one you could never fall in love with.

“Donna, Donna!”

Angie, as always, came to my aid.

“Sono... Sono un mostro...” I sobbed, burying my face in my hands, crying inconsolably.

Angie's footsteps broke the glass, climbing my body, hugging me as always when I lost control. I wouldn't have done it without her. I would have probably given up.

“Come on, Donna, don't cry... You're not a monster,” the doll said, patting my back.

“(Y/N) will never feel the same way about me, not with this look...” I sobbed, confessing my own feelings, my love for her, an inevitable, intense love.

“Enough of complaining, silly Donna,” Angie said, sick of my increasingly frequent attacks, attacks that I had when (Y/N) left, always when she left. “Are you stupid?”

“What?” I asked furiously, raising my head. “Angie, I'm not in the mood for nonsense.”

“You're the nonsense, Donna,” she scolded me. “You've been crazy about that girl for months and you haven't done anything, anything!”

“What do you want me to do?” I asked nervously, surprised by the puppet's very different attitude.

“Well, I don't know, something, for example. You can't complain about something you haven't even tried, even I, who am just a doll, know that,” she said, with a cocky pose.

“But, but, Angie…” I stammered, confused, knowing that she was right, that I was a coward. I always was.

“No buts, silly Donna, you have to tell (Y/N) that you love her,” she said, leaving me glued to the chair, stepping on the glass that I broke, seeing my horrible reflection in it.

“No, I can't,” I said, looking away from the glass.

“Fine, then don't complain,” Angie joked, making an unpleasant gesture with her hand.

“What the hell do you want me to do?” I asked, angry, clenching my fists tightly. “Do you expect her to fall in love with me just like that?”

“Tell her, silly Donna, use your charms,” the doll indicated, leaving me pensive, laughing nervously.

“I don't have any of that,” I sighed, passing a hand over my forehead.

“Mm... Maybe you need a little help...” Angie murmured. “Come, Donna, I have an idea, come, come.”

“What, what do you want?” I asked, following the doll's jumps, jumps that took me to the basement phone.

“Alcina, call her,” the doll said, extending the phone towards me. I shook my head.

“Alcina? No, no way,” I said, crossing my arms.

“She knows how to deal with women, not like you. If you stop being so proud and ask her for advice, maybe you'll stop smashing mirrors at night,” the doll said, dialing a number, leaving me alone with the phone.

“Hey, wait,” I said nervously, when the signal started to ring.

“Hello, hello, this is Dimitrescu Castle...” a mocking voice said, to which I rolled my eye. “If you want to order wine, dial one; if you want to be one of our maids, dial two; if you want us to rip out your guts and feed the crows with them for disturbing us at this time of night, please wait...”

“Daniela...” I sighed, recognizing my niece's voice. She was always that sinister. “It's, it's me...”

“Who are you? Apart from a new meal for mother...” the vampire asked. I gritted my teeth and sighed, thinking about whether to hang up or let her talk. Maybe asking my sister for advice wasn't such a bad idea.

“D-Donna,” I stammered without being able to help it. My body was shaking, and so was my voice.

“Oh, Aunt Donna! How nice to hear your voice!” the young Dimitrescu shrieked, making me have to move the phone away from my ear. “How are you?”

“F-Fine,” I stammered again, clearing my throat. “Is, is your mother there?”

“Of course… MOTHER!” she shrieked again.

I sighed, waiting impatiently, not knowing what I was going to say to her, what exactly I wanted.

“Daniela, don't be scandalous…” I heard on the other end of the phone. My nerves were getting worse. “It's Aunt Donna, mother.”

“Oh, Donna, what a late… Surprise…” my sister joked, with a seductive tone, as always. I didn't want to think about what she was doing.

“A, Alcina…” I murmured, scratching the back of my neck, looking for Angie with my eye. She wasn't there, that cowardly doll had left me alone. “I have, I have to talk to you.”

“Mm, at this time of the night? What’s wrong, dear? Have you had a crisis?” the lady in white asked. I nodded.

“Too many,”  I answered briefly.

“I see… Do you want me to send you a maid?” she asked kindly, relaxing the seduction of her usual voice.

“No, no,” I shook my head abruptly, nervously holding the telephone cord. “I want, I want to talk to you… It's… It's something personal.”

“Mm, wow, you've caught my attention,” she said amused, laughing softly. “Tell me, dear.”

“I… I don't really know where to start,” I said, controlling my breathing, which prevented me from speaking clearly.

“It's that girl, right? The girl from the church…” she said, using that ability for people that I was incapable of having.

“Y-Yes,” I said. There was no need to lie.

“You haven't hurt her, have you?” Alcina murmured in a serious tone.

“No, of course I haven’t,” I said, annoyed by that accusation. “I… I… I'm… I'm… in love with her, Alcina,” I confessed, closing my eye, letting out my feelings from my heart, some that I couldn't, that I didn't know how to express.

“How sweet of you, Donna,” my sister joked, laughing, as if she was making fun of me. “What's the problem? According to what I've heard, she spends almost every day at your house.”

“Y-Yes, but… but… I, I don't know if she…” I murmured, fighting my words, which refused to sound as they should. “I, I don't know how…”

“Mm, you don't know if she feels the same,” Alcina finished for me. I nodded again, with my eye wet with tears.

“No, I… I want to, I want to tell her but, I can't,” I sighed, passing a hand over my forehead.

“You're blind, Donna. Let's see, why would a villager like her go to your house every day?” she asked with irony. “That girl is crazy about you, I tell you, I know those looks.”

“I don't think so,” I murmured with a sad voice. “No one, no one could feel anything for me…”

“Oh, Donna, not again,” the lady in white sighed. “Your only problem is that you are such a coward.”

“I told you…” an unexpected Angie whispered in my ear, startling me.

“Angie, I'm talking,” I protested with my hand on the device. “Yes, I am a coward… But, but if she felt something for me, she would have done something about it.”

“You are so naive, my dear…” Alcina mocked, dragging out her words. “Wake up, you are a Lord, she is a villager, do you know what that means?”

“No,” I said in a stern tone, tired of everyone laughing at me.

“It means that she would never believe that someone as powerful as you could notice someone like her, do you understand?”

“No…” I sighed tired, wanting to hang up and break down in tears again.

“Donna, for Gods' sake, react,” Alcina said, with an impatient tone, making me jump. “If you don't do anything, she won't either. Stop being that... stupid.”

“I didn't call you to insult me,” ​​I said with a dark voice, hitting the table with my fingers. “I, I called you to help me. I, l, love her very much and I don't, I don't know what to do.”

“Mm, I guess being direct isn't your thing, huh?” Alcina whispered, with a different voice, but without losing that mocking touch. “Then you'll have to do something... Make her fall in love with you.”

“That's easy for someone like you but... I, I don't... Cazzo, Alcina, it's the first time I feel that way for someone... I'm completely lost,” I said almost desperately.

“I understand,” she said, with a cold tone. “Well, then start with something simple, why don't you invite her to dinner?”

“Dinner?” I asked confused.

“Mm,” the lady murmured. “They say you cook wonderfully, it could be a good point. You know, a delicious meal, some candles, maybe romantic music… If she doesn't notice with that… She's even more stupid than you.”

“It's not funny,” I growled at that mocking tone, but thinking about that idea, one that didn't seem so bad.

“It's not a joke, dear… Listen to your older sister, mm? Invite that village girl to dinner with you, and the rest… Well, I'm sure it will come by itself.”

I thought about that advice, that proposal, a lot. Alcina had hundreds of women at her disposal, but I wasn't Alcina, I was… A monster.

But nothing she said seemed to want to hurt me. I knew she cared about me, she really did. Try or lose (Y/N) forever, what a dilemma.

But luck seemed to be on my side. It was a simple, nervous request, but one that (Y/N) accepted without thinking.

In less time than I would have liked, she was with me, dining by candlelight, enjoying my food, my company, almost as much as I did hers.

“Do you, do you like it?” I asked fearfully, starting a conversation that had not existed until that moment. (Y/N) looked at me and nodded with a smile, taking a sip of her glass of wine.

“It's delicious, Donna,” she said in a soft voice, her features adored by the candlelight, her cheeks flushed by the wine, or by embarrassment.

I laughed shyly, playing with my food, not knowing what to do, or say, as always, that was never going to change.

“I, I used your vegetables,” I said awkwardly, catching her attention again. “They are of excellent quality.”

“Mm, thanks,” she said amused, winking at me. “You know what? You never cease to surprise me,” the girl commented, sighing.

“Why do you say so?” I asked curiously, looking cautiously at the phone off the table.

I didn't particularly like Alcina listening to everything, but at least she was kind enough to offer to lend me a hand, to help me if things weren't going well.

“Well... You save my father's life, you're kind... You cook... Wonderfully... Who are you?” she asked amused, playing with her fork.

“I, I guess I’m Donna,” I said nervously.

“Ahem, ahem,” a distorted clearing of throat sounded in the living room, making me blush. It was Alcina, there was no doubt.

“What was that?” (Y/N) asked, looking at the source of the sound.

“Oh, it was nothing, it was probably Angie,” I said nervously, diverting her attention.

“She can't help it, huh?” the girl joked, with a tender smile. I laughed nervously, shaking my head.

“It's true,” I commented, drinking some wine, accustomed to her looking away when I moved my veil.

Stars shinin' bright above you

Night breezes seem to whisper, "I love you"

Birds singin' in the sycamore tree

Dream a little dream of me

The music interrupted our conversation, a slow, romantic music that I hadn't put on. My doll got off the record player, making me groan nervously.

“Angie, fermate la musica!” I yelled at the doll, who ran away.

“No, no, wait… I like this song,” (Y/N) said, stopping my attempt to go to the player with a soft hand on my wrist. “You don't?”

“I… Um, yes, I do…” I sighed having her so close to me, hearing the soft humming that accompanied the song.

“Do you want to dance, Donna?” she asked, getting even closer, taking my hands by surprise, causing an inevitable tremble in mine. Automatically, without wanting to, I shook my head.

“N-No… I… I don't know how to dance,” I said shyly, letting myself be carried away by the swing of her hand in mine.

“Dance, damn it!” a furious squeal came from the phone, increasing my blush.

“What?” (Y/N) asked, with a confused smile, returning her gaze to mine after a few seconds. “Calm down, I'll show you, come…”

“Okay, okay,” I said nervously, letting (Y/N) drag me to the middle of the room, moving my hand to her perfect waist while she placed hers on my shoulder, starting to move slowly, very slowly.

A slow, clumsy, but intense, comforting dance. Her hand on my waist, our fingers intertwined, was the closest I would ever be to paradise.

“Dream a Little dream of me…” she murmured, when the song ended, with her body still pressed against mine, lowering her hand to gently grab my waist, opening her eyes, looking at me strangely. “You haven't been bad at all, Donna…”

“… I… Thank you…” I stammered, letting myself be carried away by my instincts, also grabbing her waist while her expression changed, raising her hands to my covered face. I acted reflexively by putting my hands on her wrists.

“Stop, (Y/N),” I whispered, trembling, trembling with fear. She couldn't see me, or I would lose her.

“I would like you to take off your veil, Donna, so I can kiss you,” (Y/N) whispered, with a sincere look, leaving me glued to the floor, with my hands shaking on her wrists.

“Kiss me?” I asked distrustfully, letting her hands remove the black fabric from my face under her watchful gaze. “You, you don't…”

“Oh… You're beautiful,” she said, caressing my cheek, my trembling body. I should have gotten angry, I should have screamed, I didn't. “Let me kiss you, please…”

“Please…” I said, approaching her, closing my eye, brushing her lips with mine, melting into the pleasure of my first kiss, of our first kiss.

“I wasn't wrong about you,” she said amused, moving away from that kiss, from that first kiss that left me almost sobbing. “I wasn't wrong to fall in love with you.”

“Ugh, finally!” Alcina shouted as we kissed again, with more enthusiasm, laughing at those voices. I wonder if (Y/N) suspected who was on the other end of the phone.

[temis-de-leon]

Solomon x gn!reader in trad goth attire

Characters: Solomon, reader

Masterlist

Anon request: Hey again! ☆ can i request Solomon reacting to !gn reader dressing in traditional goth wardrobe for the first time?

Prompt can be changed to you liking and whether it's in the form of a fic, headcanons or shitpost is up to you ♡☆

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A/N: I based MC's clothes and makeup on 80's trad goth fashion. MC is a lil' black sheep and Solomon (and me) are simping for them. This is set at the start of season 2 in the OG game. Hope you enjoy it!

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Solomon didn’t really think about the way you looked. He’d seen Asmo make infinite assumptions about your appearance and he had to admit he put some input from time to time, but he didn’t really mind. He was content talking to and seeing your adorable miniature bovine body, black wool and all.

And it was that, the wool, what they should’ve taken into consideration when wondering about the real version of you.

There he stood, mere feet away from you, gawking as you talked on the phone; one of the brothers, perhaps? Your figure seemed impossibly tall, clashing against the crowd on your black attire: long leather coat almost touching the floor, a concoction of lace and velvet on your upper body and fishnets making your legs even lengthier.

He couldn’t stop staring; not even when the people around him looked at him in reprimand, surely taking him as a creep.

Then you blocked the phone and his plans of reinserting himself into your life as his usual mysterious self were forgotten. Rushing towards you, still transfixed by what he was seeing, Solomon called your name.

“Over here, MC!”

“Solomon?!”

He relished in your dumbfounded expression, giving himself the freedom to study you from up-close. Your face was as white as a sheet of paper and your eyes were framed by a complicated design of thick black lines. The hair on your head vaguely reminded him of the wool you had as a sheep, wild with no sense of direction, and he couldn’t help but smile at the comparison.

“You’re staring an awful lot and saying little to nothing”

Solomon chuckled, not embarrassed at all, and you smiled. The colour of your lips matched the makeup surrounding your gaze.

“I’m merely admiring you, MC. I never expected you to have this fashion style”

“And? Does my fashion style live to your expectations?”

He checked your lips again and didn’t bother to hide his interest when you bit your bottom one. Its contrast against the white of your teeth and the rest of your face didn’t let him stop staring.

Obsessing.

“I’d say it does more than that”

There was silence for a few seconds, other humans around you going through their lives without knowing what was happening between you two. Did you even know?

You finally laughed and lightly punched his arm, breaking the trance and leaving a certain tension behind. Solomon smiled in return and chose to leave the topic, at least for the time being.

“What are you doing here? It’s been so long!”

He sighed in a dramatic flair.

“Well, you know me… I’ve been occupied”

“And you show up now because…?”

You raised your eyebrows, making him laugh. He couldn’t distract you even if he tried, probably because he himself was distracted.

Your lips were so black.

“I was thinking…”

“You think too much”

“I was thinking. How do you feel about a brief visit to the Devildom?”

He enjoyed your immediate interest, back straightening as you got close to him in delight.

“What do you mean?”

“Surely you miss the brothers, right? And of course they miss you too, so, wouldn’t a quick trip be worth our while?

The mistrust in your eyes was quickly overpowered by your eagerness, the crosses in your earrings and your necklaces calling for his attention when they clanged like a wind chime.

“Perhaps you want to take those off”

“Oh, yeah”

Fingernails were black too, but your jewellery was entirely made of silver and stones, big and small, carefully placed in all your digits, your wrists and everything that allowed to wear something.

It became hypnotizing and he couldn’t avoid blushing in embarrassment when you finally snapped your fingers in his face while laughing in amusement.

Solomon couldn’t help but redirect his vision to your lips one last time.

How would he look with black lipstick?

Care to stick with him a little longer, MC?

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[ddarker-dreams]

Do Puppets Dream of Electric Sheep?

Yan Scaramouche x F Reader.

Warnings: Yandere themes, unhealthy relationships, mild not SFW implications. Word count: 2.1k.

“What am I to you?” 

He stills. Your voice is as gentle as a mother crooning a lullaby to her newborn. Sweet, mild. Not intending to startle the sensitive creature who is unaccustomed to this world. It regurgitates memories of his progenitor. He can never clearly recall her countenance or the exact pitch of her voice, there are only formless blurs and warbled words that sounded far away. 

It is a small mercy that he never made out the specifics of her face. For it allows him to envision her in whatever manner suits him best. She can be the scheming Niwa Hisahide who sought to manipulate him, the sickly child who left him behind, or the mendacious kitsune whose promises for aid went unkept. His mother is the locus of his rage that branches out and bears rotten fruit.

You cease your previous task of combing his hair from behind. Artificial heat burns his cheeks when your chest presses against his back, your arms coiling around his slender shoulders like tendrils. The hold is tight enough to almost hurt. 

“Say, are you listening?” Your lips brush against his ear. He shivers. “Well, puppet?” 

Furniture clatters in a cacophony of noise. 

He stares at you, incredulous, his lips parting only to close again. He cycles through emotions and is unable to settle on one. 

How do…? You shouldn’t know that!

You pay him no mind. You fix the victims of his outburst, setting the stool upright and straightening the vanity’s various implements. Then you sit where he sat, smoothing the wrinkles in your skirt as you do so. You face him instead of the mirror, which has cracked into three disjointed fragments. 

The scene before him arouses confusion, then suspicion. His eyes eventually find their way to the mirror behind you. He barks a laugh at what he sees. The sound reverberates in the tiny room. Electro concentrates in his hands, crackling and ready to stain his surroundings crimson. He gives a malicious grin. 

It reflects in the cracked mirror, whereas your form does not. 

“A cheap parlor trick,” he muses. “I should’ve figured.” 

You aren’t her, he thinks. And how grateful he is to realize it. 

“I’m not?” You challenge, raising an eyebrow. What is this being capable of hearing his thoughts? The curve of your smile epitomizes everything you’ve never been: cruel and provocative. This ignis fatuus who dares to assume your form makes no attempt to flee from the attack writhing in his palms. “Well, I suppose there’s some truth to that. What you’re looking at now is what I am to become, not my present, corporeal self.” 

He studies “you” carefully. The pigmentation of your eyes, your intonation, and your body language; it lines up uncannily well, but your word choice is peculiar. There’s a callousness begotten to those burdened by esoteric knowledge, an experience he’s intimately familiar with. This can’t be a poorly executed emulation devised by that medical charlatan excommunicated by his peers, or an experience that aligns with the continuity of Teyvat’s laws. 

Is his conscious being tampered with by the gods? 

“I’m afraid not. We both know that panopticon has no interest in you. No, discarded prototype, think back to your creation. When was it determined you’d be of no use to Beelzebul?” 

He grits his teeth. That intrusive introspection is coming into play again. It’s as if his innermost sentiments have been printed out in large lettering for you to scrutinize. 

“So you’ve finally realized, although you’re hesitant to think it. I can’t blame you, nothing good ever comes from your dreams. Since you don’t require sleep, you were able to avoid this for some time… in trying to play human with me in reality, you’ll be judged by me in the one state where you are utterly powerless.” 

The energy gathering in his hand dissipates without him willing it. He tries in vain to summon it again, but the element no longer heeds his command. Clicking his tongue, he sits on the edge of the bed, then crosses his arms over his chest. He chastises himself for not noticing sooner. This room may appear to be an exact replica of the one you share, but the slightest details in its geometry betray the realm of possibility. Certain angles bend in inconceivable ways, the ceiling itself is drooping down like a viscous gel, the descent so slow, it’s near imperceptible. 

Dreams, pesky as they may be, are always destined to end. He need only wait for this torment to run its course. 

“If that’s the stance you’ve decided to take, why not answer my question?” 

He feigns ignorance for a beat, despite knowing full well the inquiry you’re referring to. You allow him his temporary repose. 

“What you are to me is a nuisance. A meaningless manifestation that I’ll forget about as soon as I wake,” he replies. How strange it is, taking this baleful tone toward an image of you. You are the sole individual he doesn’t regard with pure loathing, and as such, he treats you with a tenderness he thought himself previously incapable of. He can’t recall a time when contempt felt unnatural, like the first time he mimicked human breathing. 

This veneer of nonchalance is forced and he knows it. The mirage taking on your comely likeness is seeping under his synthetic skin, spreading malaise and decay. 

“Oh? That’s an awfully bold statement, but, nevertheless, let’s entertain it a while longer.” 

You clap twice and the surroundings shift. 

His limbs are dragged upward by an unrelenting force — red strings as formidable as piano wire. He struggles out of instinct. This futile act only serves to tighten the binds. Upon realizing this, he goes limp, noting that your presence is no longer visible. 

He has an unobstructed view of the cracked mirror, its jagged edges displaying three different images. 

To the left, he sees himself wearing the outfit he first awoke with, the golden feather dangling from his neck. The middlemost portion is accurate in its portrayal, unlike the others. It shows the glint of the mitsudomoe symbol upon his chest which he considers his birthright. The right fragment is nearly indiscernible, aside from hues of teal that swirl as if spurred on by the wind. 

The mirror shatters.

Light footsteps circle around him. He wrenches his head in the direction of the ambient sounds, identifying no clear source. 

“Even if you forget about me now, according to your designs, we’ll meet again. This “me” that’s been tainted and corrupted by your selfish intent. In trying to preserve me, you’ll be my ruin. You already know that though, don’t you? That your desperate clinging will drag us both down to unfathomable depths. It’s true, that by never letting me die, you’ll have an eternity with me…” 

You materialize in front of him, standing with your hands behind your back. The casual stance is at odds with the venom you spew forth. Just as before, everything about your physical appearance is correct, save for a single, damning detail. Your eyes glow a luminescent violet — that of Inazuma’s reclusive deity, whose gnosis he intends to commandeer, even if he must tear it from her himself. 

“But is that the eternity you truly wish for?” 

It isn’t. Of course it isn’t. 

What else was he to do? 

Watch helplessly as your biological clock ticks on while the hands on his remain frozen in place? Witness your final until you breathe your last breath, then allow your husk to be buried in the cold, unfeeling ground? His is a life of apprehension. That by some cruel twist of fate, you’ll fall victim to the many pitfalls mortals are vulnerable to. Illness, injury, violence, the list goes on and on. His overactive imagination serves as a personal purgatory that churns out images of your downfall every moment he is not by your side. 

Upon returning to your quaint little cottage on the outskirts of civilization, trepidation eats at him like maggots upon a corpse. If he can’t find you tending to your garden, baking in your kitchen, or lounging on the swing hanging from the old oak tree in your front yard, madness slithers at his heels, ready to pierce him with its fangs. 

You may never forgive him, but he couldn’t forgive himself if he let the one thing he cherishes in this joke of a world leave him behind. 

“I won't look at you the way I once did. The me who speaks your true name, spends days wondering when you’ll return from your traveling ‘job’, gladly welcomes you into her bed, granting you access to her most sacred body and soul; you will never see her again. She will exist in your memory alone.”  

Your pointer finger hovers over his trembling lower lip, then descends, over his Adam’s apple and in between his collarbones. 

“Having savored these pleasures once freely given, you’ll have no choice but to take them by force. You’ll defile me and insist it’s worship. Bitterness might whet your palate, but you’ll never have your fill. Can you call that love, poor puppet? Or will you rightfully refer to it as ownership?” 

All verbal exchanges cease. 

In this nightmare blurring the lines of what if, where he is but a spectator rather than an active participant, he laughs. It echoes in his hollow chest cavity where no fleshly heart beats. Your physiognomy goes blank in the face of such blatant malignity. He hangs here, a tossed-aside marionette, consumed by a paroxysm of emotion he once swore to wipe clean from his chest. 

“If this is an attempt to appeal to my conscience, it won’t work,” his grin nearly splits his face in two. “Harass me every night, for all I care. I’ll accept it. I’ll accept anything. Every form of you… every possible iteration, no matter how unsightly, beautiful, indifferent, or anything in between, I want it. There isn’t a version of you that can deter me. The real you offered herself to me for a lifetime — who am I to turn down such an alluring offer?” 

You pull away from him. 

The absence of your touch is worse than any physical torture you could inflict. He’ll take your loving caresses, your hand ripping into his chest, so long as he can familiarize himself with your genuine warmth. Such is the resolve of a puppet who has endured the biting blizzard of loneliness. Destroy him and he’d rebuild. Ignore him and he’ll pry the words from your mouth. Attempt to leave him and he’ll ensnare you in a trap that neither of you can escape from. 

This advocate for your future is washed away in a sea of ink, black as night, untouchable and ever-present as a shadow. The cascading wave swallows you whole. 

You depart with a final threnody.

“Until we meet again, then.” 

…

…

…

Something brushes over his cheek. 

“... Kuni? Kunikuzushi? Ah, what do I do, you aren’t waking up…! Insults? Do I try insults? Uh, you’re of less than average height—”

“Quiet down, woman, you’re loud,” Scaramouche complains with a groan.

You’re hovering above him. It’s a heavenly sight — if he were a believer in such things — the upturning of your eyebrows, the flow of your hair tousled by interrupted sleep, and the temptation of your soft, parted lips. Warmth emanates from your body. He delights in it. Swears a silent oath to himself that he’ll never be without it. 

“The insult worked,” you whisper, content with your quick thinking. Then, remembering the situation, you’re back to fussing over him. “Are you okay? You must’ve been having an awful nightmare.” 

His lips form a thin line. “... Something like that.” 

“What was it about?” 

“You,” he forces an unperturbed tone. Although he’s still hazy from sleep, he’s used to bending the truth. Or in this case, covering the parts he doesn’t want you to see. “I have to deal with you in the realm of conscious and unconscious now. Terrifying, right?” 

The sarcasm successfully draws your attention elsewhere. 

“Absolutely. So terrifying, in fact, I better sleep elsewhere so as not to frighten my— oof!” 

“Oh no you don’t,” he pulls you against his chest, preemptively ending your getaway, “You’re not going anywhere.” 

You willingly collapse into his hold, laughing softly. Though you’re no longer trying to wriggle away, his grip is ironclad, his arms trembling. He interweaves himself into you with a tangle of limbs. Once he’s content, he presses his face against the thrumming pulse in your neck. This stream that maintains your life is temporary — a subpar placeholder until you’re imbued with immortality. Still, he cherishes it, this special rhythm that has sustained you long enough for your paths to interconnect. 

He gives your pulse a chaste, reverent kiss. 

Your paths are bound to never diverge, even if damnation is where they'll lead.