#i think this one is the exception ive never found any others

[shoezuki]

AYYYYYYY KURU MENTION!!!! yea yea hell ya that one i Think is the only exception in that i dont think theres any other human-only transmissable disease that is spread through consuming human brain tissue. its a form of prion disease such as chronic wasting disease and mad cow disease but its one of or the only one that cant go from animal to human and vice verse. technically theres other ways of contracting it such as contact with open wounds but cannibalism is the primary way.

theres only ever been one documented epidemic of it in the Fore people of New Guinea and i find it really sad tbh because specifically they practiced a form of funeary/mourning cannibalism that involved consuming their diseased relatives so that they would 'live on' within them. it was actually most common for women and children to be the ones practicing so most cases of kuru impacted the Fore women and children. and its completely incurable and can take 10 to 50 years to really take effect so people were infected with kuru for decades without knowing.

kuru is considered nearly extinct or at least there hasnt been any deaths from it in like. a decade or more. because when the only prevention is not eating ur homies its p easy to not. do that. but ya dont eat the brains probably. or ppl at all

It's not cannibalism if you don't know it's a person.

On the flipside, it is cannibalism if you believe it to be a person even if it's not. (The communion bread counts lol)

AYYYYYY INNOCENT CANNIBALISM BABEYYYY. unknowing cannibalism intrigues me because it kindw shows the social construction of the taboo. like technically, unless the human had some disease or pathogen that can be transmitted orally, there isnt any physical/biological impacts of eating human flesh. at least not in comparison to animal meat. so its when someone/other people Know theyve eaten a person that the consequences occur. not that social/mental consequences arent less real than physical ones but its interesting.

but damn. damn. that does imply the inverse of believing/intending to eat human meat without actually eating it being. cannibalistic? it wouldnt be classified as ritual cannibalism but idk how exactly it would be considered. shit. fuck. bfbf

[pepprs]

hi update things are fucking terrible and my eyes hurt from sobbing. lol

[rucow]

i am convinced that pisces people haven't found out about technology yet . where are u all

[phagodyke]

slept in until 10am I haven't been able to do this in over a month 😭

[ohdeerfully]

Hello! Just gonna take a second and say I freaking LOVE your writing! I myself am a die-hard simp for Alastor…but enough about that! (Apologies for the long request)

Could you write one were the (fem) reader is besties with Angel dust,they share a close enough bond to cuddle with each other. Y’know since they’re like best friends and whatever they just find it entertaining. Soon enough, Alastor catches on with this consistent occurrence. Since he has a huge crush on the reader, he begins to grow jealous of the interaction. One night he knocks on her room door, at first he (tries and fails) to hide his feelings and weirdly feels the crave for affection. Which is very unlikely of him considering he’s not of fan of physical contact.

But the reader, being the smart little bastard that she is, sees right through his actions and grows suspicious. He admits his crave for affection, surprisingly very slyly.

The reader has no problem whatsoever with giving affection. So, he and the reader happily cuddle and she pets the fluffy deer ears on his head. She also catches his little deer tail wagging like crazy and she giggles at that. Leaving Al flushed and embarrassed. She gives him a little kiss and they stay like that the rest of the night :). This is just straight fluff and jealous Al.

hello alastor nation.... sorry for going super MIA for one million days,, ive honestly not been super interested in hazbin lately and just been busy in general but!!!!!!!!!!!!!! i cranked this bad boy out (as in i struggled to write it for like a month so sorry if its super janky) cuz i miss writing and i miss our boy. i didnt follow your request perfectly towards the end but i hope u enjoy it anyway!!! very fluffy very ooc but who cares. also not proofread so if u notice anything glaringly bad keep it a secret

By The Moonlight

Alastor x Reader (fluff) TW: alastor is ooc sorry.. it comes with the fluff. hes also lowkey toxic momentarily but whats new

masterlist join my discord!

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Angel Dust was one of the first demons that you met after falling into Hell over a year ago—and, despite his generally off putting and sarcastic personality he was the first demon that was actually kind to you. So, obviously, you found yourself practically glued to his hip on the day-to-day. While at first he seemed annoyed by your constant presence, the bond slowly became mutual as he found himself trusting you and opening up his tightly guarded true self.

Life at the Hazbin Hotel wasn’t much different except for one considerably problematic detail: the Radio Demon. While the relationship you had with Angel Dust was very affectionate, it had always remained platonic, but with Alastor…

Who in their right mind would fall in love with that demon?

You asked yourself this constantly, often beating yourself up for it when you felt heat against your cheeks in his presence or when your eyes trailed along the curves of his ears as they moved. This is so embarrassing.

It helped a bit that he seemed to avoid you in particular, often coming up with excuses to end a conversation and leave the room whenever he saw you come in. Or… was he doing that because he knew you had feelings for him and was just avoiding you at all costs?

Lounged comfortably on a lobby couch, cuddled next to Angel, you tried not to think too hard about it, especially now during one of Charlie Morningstar’s regularly scheduled Guest Bonding Experiences where… Everyone was present. While Alastor never agreed to join any actual scenario, he seemed to enjoy watching Charlie try (and often fail) to gentle parent a crowd of sinners, to which his motives were unknown but still questionable. You knew how dangerous the Overlord was but couldn’t help but stare a little too long at him as he joined the room.

It scared the shit out of you when his piercing red eyes seemed to snap to meet your gaze, followed by a nearly unnoticeable tightening of his grin. You quickly looked away, trying to play it off by looking at everybody else as well. Angel’s arm, which was thrown around your shoulder, nudged lightly.

“You okay? Ya leg is jumpin’ like a jackhammer down there.”

You composed yourself and reassured him that everything was fine.

Today Charlie was encouraging different pairs of demons to share what they like about eachother and admit something they should work on within themselves. Like clockwork, the activities went by awkwardly and eventually derailed way off Charlie’s original plan. She was always able to quickly adapt, but even she could hardly settle the group of rowdy and crude demons when things got out of hand.  

Vaggie didn’t take long to get fed up and quieted the noise with a few shouts. Charlie placed a grateful touch against her arm before clearing her throat.

“Okayyy… back on track. Uh,” Her eyes glanced around before finally landing on you. She beckoned you up. Your mouth opened to reject, to complain, to do anything to get yourself out, but a sharp glare from Vaggie shut you up before you could even form words. You heard Angel snicker as you grimaced before peeling yourself off the couch and standing in the center of the room.

“Alastor!” The name made your stomach drop. “I know you don’t usually like to play along, but h–” She was hushed by a simple raise of his hand.

“My dear,” He said with a light, almost mocking chuckle. The static in his voice tickled goosebumps up your arms. “If you know I don’t join these frivolous games, why would you ask? Besides… I don’t think I could if I wanted to.”

The way his eyes glanced up and down with what you could only read as contempt or disgust made you feel sick, but somehow angry at the same time.

“Fuck is your problem, man?” You didn’t even expect yourself to speak, words tumbling from your lips before you could properly think about who you were talking to. “You think you’re better than me or something?”

A pretty rhetorical question, considering his status as an Overlord, but you couldn’t stop yourself in the heat of the moment. Maybe it was embarrassment, or hurt feelings, or a bit of both or something else entirely, but you wanted to hit him so bad right now.

There was a hush in the room, save for the growing aggression in the buzz of Alastor’s radio frequency. By the way his eyes darkened with malice, you could only assume the plethora of ways he was imagining killing you right now.

“You’re lucky I am better than you,” He said in a dangerously quiet tone, leaning his height over yours. You clenched your fists and stared back in his eyes, though your knees felt a little weak. “If you weren’t such a waste of my time you’d be dead where you stand.”

If your tongue didn’t feel like a hunk of steel you would’ve commented on how you’ve seen him actually take some delight in killing similar “low-lifes” like you. He held his position for a moment, towering over you. When he seemed satisfied with his intimidation he straightened himself back to his usual posture and tidied his bowtie. His eyes glanced towards Angel Dust, held for a moment, before he turned away and left the room.

It was quiet enough to hear a pin drop. As your adrenaline faded, you shakily returned to your spot on the couch next to Angel before your knees had a chance to give out. You felt two of his arms hug around you, but you couldn’t muster energy to return the gesture, every limb feeling useless.

“Man, you’re lucky, really had me worried there,” He tried to lighten the mood with a laugh. “The fuck he look at me for, though? I’da thought he was gonna come after me next with that look of his.”

“Hey…” You looked up at Charlie, who was tentatively hovering next to the couch. “I… even for Alastor… I didn’t expect him to react like that. He usually just says ‘no’ when I ask.” You closed your eyes and took a steadying breath.

“He’s unpredictable. A surprise from him is really no surprise at all if you think about it.”

Charlie’s eyebrows upturned as she looked over you, worried at your shaky state.

“You should go get some sleep, we can… just stop here. I think everyone’s tired anyway.” She waved her hand to dismiss the other demons, hoping to get you more privacy considering everyone was just ogling at you. Angel gave you a tight hug before sauntering off, not so sneakily following after Husk.

Your stomach was churning and your throat felt dry, but it wasn’t even a guess as to why. You pissed off and basically challenged Alastor and somehow got away alive. You honestly started to feel proud of yourself for that fact.

After the others left, Charlie offered to help you to your room but you merely laughed and assured her it was no big deal. You just needed a moment. You waited for a while in the dark, empty lobby, your only company the slow tick of a large grandfather clock against the far wall.

Soon an overwhelming feeling of paranoia set in and you started to feel jittery and uncomfortable. You could swear to yourself that something was watching you, but when you carefully looked around you couldn’t see anything. You hastily stood up and left for your room.

You sighed aggressively as the door shut behind you, resting the back of your head against it. Man, you felt so stupid. You never had any chance with Alastor anyway, but you still cursed yourself for acting like such a fool towards him. Just as you lifted yourself from the despairing slouched position against the wooden door, a quick but gentle knock sounded from the other side.

Assuming it was Charlie making another “are you sure you’re okay” round, you fixed your face with a smile and opened the door. As soon as it opened just a crack, your senses were flooded with the buzzing hum of an uncomfortably familiar radio noise.

Ah. Shit.

The smile was frozen temporarily on your shocked face but then slowly dropped as instead of the sweet expression of Charlie you were expecting, you instead trailed your eyes up to meet the cold, red gaze of Alastor.

Okay. Yeah. He was just here to kill you now since nobody—notably Charlie—was here to see. Makes sense!

You tried your best to stand still and unbothered as a few seconds of silence ticked by, though you weren’t sure how well you’d be able to keep it up a second time, especially now that you were... Alone. In the dark. With Alastor. Your head was already starting to hurt from the overpowering sound of radio frequency. Somehow still, you mustered the courage to speak.

“Aren’t you supposed to say hello?” You weren’t exactly sure why you said anything remotely aggressive, though maybe you were already resigned to accepting your fate at the hands of the Overlord in front of you. 

It seemed to trigger him to life again, as his eyebrows raised along with his smile. “Oh! My apologies, where have my manners gone! Hello!” You couldn’t really tell if the grin that stretched across his face held more hatred than usual.

Your arms were folded as you waited for him to continue, lips slightly pursed in worry at his presence.

Surprisingly enough, Alastor seemed to be unsure of what to say next. His mouth was slightly agape, almost like the words were caught in his throat and he was having trouble deciding what to say next. Which was odd for him, considering how he always seemed so thought out and sure of himself.

“You know, you shouldn’t be so physical with that spider friend of ours,” He finally said, which seemed incredibly forward, even by his standards. Your eyebrow quirked up in response, a frown forming at the way he so distastefully spat out his reference to Angel Dust.

“And why’s that?” “A dame like yourself… so… physical with that walking sex disaster. It’s unbecoming.”

“And… why are you telling me this? Why do you think I care what some old-fashioned radio host has to say about how I run my friendships?” You placed your hand on the door frame, ready to shut it in his face—but there was something odd about his expression that intrigued you just enough to keep it open. 

Alastor took a step forward, sensing your intention to shut the door. You took a matching step backwards. Your heart was beating at a pace you didn’t know it was capable of, reaching a rush of adrenaline that you assumed was at the face of your (final) death.

“I can’t say why I’m telling you this. I can’t say why I even care what some weak creature like you is doing. But I do know that I want you to listen to me and I will tear that spider apart if it means you do.” Every few words brought him a step towards you, and, just as before, you met with the same amount of steps backwards. You felt the back of your foot touch a foot of your bed.

“So you’re jealous?”

An almost comical record-scratch-esque noise sounded from—you assume—his radio staff as his body stiffened and eyes narrowed. The ambience of radio static was momentarily gone. You yourself froze, unsure exactly what made you so bold all of a sudden. It seems the face of death is one hell of a drug.

“What? How… how dare you even suggest such a ridiculous idea,” Although the intent of his words were hostile, he seemed… flustered? His face was turned away slightly and you could see the corners of his smile trembling a little bit. Would you dare admitting to yourself it was oddly cute?

“Listen, man, I’m just calling it how I see it. You come to my room in the dead of night complaining about me snugglin’ with Angel Dust. Just as you said… why would you care? Unless, of course…” You trailed, leaving the very obvious end to your sentence open for interpretation. 

Stiffly collapsing into a seated position on the corner of your bed made you realize how wobbly your knees had gotten as you were sure Alastor had been planning to kill you. You still weren’t positive you were in the clear, but your chances seemed a little brighter.

Alastor seemed to be battling some internal monologue because he still stood with his head turned from you. He was growing increasingly agitated, with the sound of his radio static returning and somehow getting sharper and louder. You wanted to try to pull him back into the conversation before he dipped out and never spoke to you again. 

“You know, I’ve never really felt any real love for the people around me. Even when I was alive. I love Angel Dust, yeah, but… nothing beyond the friendship we have. But then I got to the hotel and–”

“Why are you telling me this? I don’t care. I’m not a therapist.”

“For a guy that cares so much about manners you sure love to interrupt,” You spoke in a teasing tone, though Alastor didn’t seem to appreciate the words anyway. “Plus, I mean… You’re still here. Listening.”

He pondered for a moment. You honestly were surprised he didn’t just teleport the fuck out of there the second you started talking about your feelings.

“I don’t know why I care about you.” He admitted, and you didn’t fail to notice the lack of his usual radio-filtered voice. As awkward as the words seemed falling from his lips, his piercing eye contact with you never wavered as if he was just trying to intimidate you into nonexistence so he didn’t have to deal with this.

When you patted the spot on the bed next to you, you didn’t actually expect him to accept the offer. What you expected even less was for him to sit just close enough for your shoulders to touch. He was stiff and likely uncomfortable, and… so were you. You really had no clue how you even got here.

Seconds felt like hours as you sat in silence, the barely noticeable prickling of static against your skin being the only thing keeping you present. Otherwise you worried you might pass out from how long your heart had been nearly beating out of your chest.

“What were you saying earlier?” His voice suddenly broke the silence, making you jump slightly. You looked at him, but he was busy looking out a window.

“What do you mean?” “I mean earlier when I, very rudely, I apologize, interrupted you. What were you saying… about when you finally got to the hotel?”

His voice had such a sweet sound to it when it wasn’t distorted like it went through a radio channel. You allowed your eyes to trace the silhouette of his face for just a moment, lit ever so slightly by the red of the moon being filtered in by the window. You didn’t dare let your gaze linger for too long just in case he turned back towards you.

“Ah, I thought you weren’t my therapist,” You joked lightly. He side-eyed you, eyebrows scrunching.

“Don’t push your luck here.”

You laughed breathlessly, struggling to find air to even speak. You were still so incredibly nervous sitting so close to him and speaking so intimate with him.

“Yeah, uh… When I got to the hotel I think I finally found someone I felt love for. Something beyond just friendship. And it’s a weird feeling.”

Your knees were almost touching his. You could’ve sworn you weren’t this close to him before.

“I don’t think you should say who that demon is.”

“I know.”

Silence passed between you two again, and he still remained fixated on staring out the window. Finally, after a few moments of quiet, he finally turned his gaze back to you. His eyes, although they glowed with a dangerous, murderous red, somehow entranced you. They always had, but something about being this close to him in the gentle lighting being cast in from the moon… you could almost drown in them.

Without much of a thought, your hand had risen towards his face. When he flinched away you were suddenly brought back to your senses and your hand froze midair. Before you could move away and throw out a million apologies, his clawed fingers wrapped over yours.

It was a strange sensation, feeling his hand against yours. His skin was far from warm, and you knew how much blood spilled between his fingers, yet…

You allowed him to pull you towards him, a tug at your wrist bringing your chest flush against his. Your head was under his chin, and you held yourself stiffly against him. You could tell he wasn’t so sure either, with the way his hand held a rough uncertainty at the base of your back and his clawed fingers dug just a bit too roughly into your skin as he held you against him.

Gently moving, you tested the waters of his tolerance of you taking matters into your own hands. Although this feeling was unknown to the both of you, you at the very least knew how to be comfortable.

You urged him to scoot towards the pillows, pulling him along and pressing him back down on his back. You moved slow, waiting for the smallest hint that he wanted you to stop, but it never came. You settled next to him, flush against his side and you guided his arm to wrap around your waist. 

The stiffness ever so gradually left his body as he completely succumbed himself to you, allowing you to mold the two of you into an interwoven position, a closeness that the two of you desperately needed for each other. He would never admit this desire, but you knew by the fact you weren’t incinerated for trying to touch him that he needed this as much as you did.

Once settled, you traced featherlike fingers across his arm. You weren’t eye level with him, but you knew by the red glow in your peripheral that he was staring fixedly at you as if to study your entire being.

The moon eventually moved beyond your window, casting the room in complete darkness, your only sensation being the pressure of Alastor’s body against yours. There wasn’t even the slightest buzz of radio noise that seemed to always encompass his presence. His eyes must’ve been shut, too, as there wasn’t even a glow from them.

You let your eyes fall shut, enjoying the peace of the moment. You hadn’t the slightest clue what would happen in the morning—maybe you’d never even wake up if he got upset with some morning clarity.

You didn’t care too much, though. You’d just enjoy it while it lasted.

[rassicas]

hello!! lately i've been thinking about houses/interiors in splatoon as i've been pondering some up for my ocs, & i was wondering if there's any info on them in canon? so far the best that comes to mind is the splat 1 loading screen & that new art of acht, but I was curious on if there's anything about apartments & interiors specifically... tysm! :-]

Unfortunately we don't have much, and considering how much living spaces vary in real life even within the same culture, it's hard to say x thing applies to all splatoon households. the game developers are japanese, the game takes place in japan, and takes inspiration from japanese culture and daily life. taking that into consideration, where canon fails, i use modern japanese living spaces as a reference for imagining what an interior may look like in inkadia. headcanon aside. time to dig up what canon info i've found regarding homes and living spaces

In the Octotune album booklet we get one of the few examples of an inkling home interior, the Houzuki mansion. though pearl, as well all know, is Insanely Fucking Rich and our average inkling is NOT going to be living this luxuriously. one useful tidbit we can get from the text is this:

Q5: Wow! Is this the garage? Pearl: That's just the shoe storage, man.

the word she's using for shoe storage is ゲタばこ which is a cubby you're meant to put your shoes in before entering a house, located in an entryway. in other words, implying a cultural norm of taking your shoes off before entering (something adhered to more strictly in japan vs america). not like this is really followed in official art showing inkfish at home (except for this s1 era piece of an inkling watching tv) probs because shoes are cooler lol

let's see what else ummm bedding.

s1 and s3 dialogue for flounder heights mention futons. traditional japanese bedding typically laid out on the floor when in use, and folded up and put away in a big cubby during the day. its a common sight to see them hung out in the sun on the balcony to not get moldy. some of those things draped over the railings in flounder heights are futons.

not everyone in japan does this though- youll still see western style beds or even futons on bed frames since taking it out and putting it away is a pain in the ass. also not every apartment has a built in proper futon storage space. (...mine does, but i repurposed it into another closet and just use western style bedding lol)

same is true for inkadians too -the bed in the s1 splashscreen doesnt look like a futon to me. point is there's options for what do with the bed situation.

speaking of the apartment splashscreen for s1, there is a blurb in the artbook about it and how inklings are typically pretty tidy with their living spaces.

im sure there's plenty of messy inklings too. anyway there's just a few tidbits about living spaces in relation to canon info. unfortunately there's Nothing about the bathroom or how they bathe, though previously i shared my headcanons about how i think that could work. for the kitchen i think all we can do is assume. Acht has a fridge how surprising /s at the start i mentioned that i take inspo from japanese life where canon fails. ive spent a few years in japan so this works conveniently for me LOL but i assume most people following me do not have that experience. so for those who wanna take that japan inspo too, here's a few small things that are different in japanese living spaces that ive thought may be true for inkopolis? -living spaces are so much smaller on average (of course) -washing machines do not use heated water and like Nobody has a drier in their house. laundry is hung on the balcony, or by the window if there is none, to dry. you want a drying machine? go to the laundromat. -big ovens? like for baking? casseroles? this is Rare in japanese homes. more likely youll see like a little toaster oven. microwaves with an oven setting. i have a gas stove with a fish grill drawer like this. ive never seen this in america but i KNOW in my heart inklings would have this -tiniest fucking kitchens sometimes. a pattern ive often seen for little one room apartments is a pathetic kitchen space in the hall between the entrance and bedtoom where its like. one sink. and space for an electric burner. you want counter space go fuck yourself. if youre a broke inkling who doesnt cook much this may be the option for you. -i think every house ive been in has had a genkan in some form.

[hyperfixatingonsonicsohard]

I LOVE the idea of Amy Rose in the Sonic Movies

and if she's not in it the Sonic Movie 3 in the end credits scene at LEAST I will be so sad.

This is the continuation of This Art Post Here , of my design for a Movie Version of Amy

Here is all the little ideas I had for this AU written down:

(Sorry about the weird format)

I'm not sure how or Why Amy gets to Earth, but I imagine she learns about the heroic Sonic the Hedgehog(maybe she overhears something? Sees a newspaper/newscast? Idk)and begins a search for him.

Amy found the Walkowski's on her own, but when she arrived Tom had taken the boys out for a day of fishing so only Maddie was home.

Maddie was surprised

She may have 3 alein kids, but there will always be a moment of shock and "ANOTHER ONE?!" for her

She gets Amy cleaned up before Tom and the others get back home

It turns into a little fashion show, and Maddie is estatic

Living with little boys she doesnt get the oppertunity for dress up & tea parties often

Only when she's visiting Rachel and Jojo

When the others get home, Maddie gathers them in the kitchen/living room before bringing Amy in

- Tom faints

- "There's a GIRL now?!" — Tom

- Sonic is super excited to meet another hedgehog is slips his mind that shes a girl.

- and then it clicks and he's like

- "wait she's a girl-Oh my god shes a girl ive never met a girl what do i say she's really cute ulchhfccvjvukzkg"

- Reverse Sonamy, I'm a total sucker for it!

- Tails is curious as to who she is and why she's here

- Knuckles is wary of a new face

- Amy gets overwhelmed and summons her Piko Piko hammer

- Knuckles is no longer wary

- "Ah! Clearly you are a Warrior, here to join as a member our clan in protecting the master Emerald!"

- Amy ends up becoming a member even if it wasn't her orginal intention for meeting them.

Rachel, as we know, doesnt't really any of the Sonic characters.

- EXCEPT Amy.

- She's pretty, pink, and she refuses to let the other boys taint her!

- "Maddie you can't be serious about letting such an angel stay with those ruffions you call your kids! No, NUh-Uh, I'm taking this one you already have 3."

- Rachel takes in Amy to live with her and Jojo in San Francisco

- JoJo looks up to Amy like an older sister

- Maddie sends Amy off with her iconic red dress.

- When Sonic first sees her in it, he runs with his super speed all the way back to his old burrow, screams, and runs back and pretends it didnt happen.

- Amy enjoys listening to Music with Wade when he picks her up from the airport to visit the Walkowski's

- Tom took Amy fishing, as he's done all the kids, and it turns out Amy already knows how to fish!

- She's not bad at it, average skill

- She says someone named Big the Cat taught her

- She plays baseball with the Walkowski's

- She's incredible at the bat, but is no match for Sonic's speed being able to catch any home run she hits

- At least when Sonic is able to snap out of his admiral-gaze at her in time to do so.

- Sonic is totally down hard for Amy, thinks shes so cool and totally out of his leauge(No Baseball Pun intended)

- Amy is oblivious to this

- Amy also thinks Sonic is cute, but is overall good friends with all of team Sonic

- Knuckles thinks Amy is a good mate for Sonic. Someone strong to protect and provide for his little brother

- Knuckles also sees Amy as a friendly rival, someone almost if not as strong as he is

- Tails doesnt fully understand what Knuckles is talking about with "mating" and why Sonic always blushes around her but he enjoys Amy's attention and praise about his inventions

Thats all I have right now, but I'm glad I was finally able to write down this idea lol!

(Again, PERFECT TIME TO POST THIS when the new trailer for Sonic 3 dropped today!)

I really hope you all liked this!

Pls Reblog&Comment&Like!

EDIT: Sonic 3 Spoilers!!!

AMY IS IN THE MOVIES NOW!!!!!WOOOO!!!!

[cameoliob]

what are your headcanons for kallus and jovan? how did they get together? who fell first and whose heart broke first? do they still hate each other when kallus joins the rebellion or do they simply act like the pettiest bitches towards each other? enquiring minds want to know

ANON THANK YOU FOR GIVING ME AN EXCUSE TO TALK ABOUT THIS IVE BEEN WAAIITTTIINNNGG

Before I get into this I have to legally preface that 1. I’m a Kallus from the lower levels truther + I operate off the assumption that he does not have any family and that plays a decent role in what's going on 2. We dont know alot about Jovans personality so I lowkey just go off vibes but in my brain, teenage him is starry-eyed, a little naive, but SO kind. Older him is a little bit of a douche (not terrible, just the kind of guy that you have to scoff at whenever they talk too much). 

Okay I have a whole headcannoned timeline so im gonna lay this out for u

It's 19 BBY, the empire just started enlisting and all the rich Coruscanti kids are FIGHTING for a chance to go to the academy because “wow that sounds so much more fun than regular university.” Jovan is a part of this demographic. 

So you’ve got this whole class of rich kids doing rich kid things, and Jovan is having a great time; it’s the fourth week of school, he’s found his friend group, he gets along great with his bunk mates, everything is fantastic.

Except theres just this one… fucking guy…

This guy is in, like, half of Jovans classes and Jovan just can’t stop thinking about him because where in stars name did this skinny, scrappy, snappy, kid with a gnarly side eye come from???? Why is he so sickly looking???? And so mean????

And Jovan’s always been a curious guy, he wants to figure out what this guy’s deal is so he, of course, takes it upon himself to befriend this Edward Cullen looking ass dude. Easier said than done; Jovan finds out very quickly that Kallus does not trust easily and it takes at least three weeks of Jovan forcing his friendship on him (inviting him to sit with him in the mess hall, offering to help with assignments, sitting next to him in class, ect.) for Kallus to hold a full conversation with him. 

From there, though, it gets easier. Turns out that Kallus is, quite possibly, the coolest guy Jovan has ever met. He doesn't gaf about what people think about him, he’s gotten into fist fights before (real ones, not sparring!), he fucking parties, he fucks, he can hotwire a speeder, he’s so naturally smart, and cunning, and resourceful– Jovan is completely entranced by this guy. 

^^^(completely entranced by this guy.. I never said Jovan had good taste)

In the meantime, Jovan helps Kallus out with some of the pre-req classes needed for their first year, because as cool as he is, Kallus is not good at physics. 

By the end of their first year at the Academy, Jovan and Kallus become very close. It’s that kind of friendship between guys that, if you saw it from an outsider's perspective, you’d be like, “oh… are they..?? Do they..????? What???” but tbh they don't even think about it because they’re too busy being stupid

Now, the imps do NOT like taking days off, BUUUUT all those rich families donating to the academy do, so I imagine that– at least in the first few years of the empire– the academy had a short, 3 or so week long summer break. 

So we get to break, and Kallus is like “oh wait, I don’t have anywhere to go over break, guess I’ll just rough it out on the streets for a few weeks ig. Nothing new tbh.” And Jovan is like, “What???? No???? You’re not doing that????” and Jovan invites Kallus to tag along on his family vacation (idk where they go, maybe like Naboo or smth, I didn't think that far). Kallus obviously accepts. 

So they go on this vacation, and Jovan is thinking to himself, Waiiiiiittttt a minute………. I actually have wanted him so bad for like 3 months. Maybe it was a bad idea to invite him, like I’m gonna blow my cover fuckuckufckufcjukcf.  But he’s like not trying to do anything about it because he’s all nervous. But THEN, last week of vacation Kallus is like. “I actually think that you should let me kiss u on the mouth.” and Jovan is like “okay bbg say less.” (Jovan fell first if that wasn’t clear)

(This situation is about to get ALOT gayer)^^^

AND THEN THE BREAKUP

They graduated the academy a year prior, Kallus has been doing his ISB training, Jovan has been doing whatever tf you do to become a lieutenant. They’ve been together for four-ish years atp. 

Kallus is SO locked in with his ISB training. Like he was a dedicated student before (he was top of his class for a reason), but this is borderline obsession. He’s never home, always working, always tired, ect ect. In the meantime, Jovan is climbing the ranks and he is lowkey kind of power tripping over it. He’s getting kind of entitled, a little passive aggressive, and is not really putting effort in tbh.

So Jovan is all annoyed because Kallus is always at work and he literally just wants to hang out with his boyfriend. Tbh, he thinks that Kallus is getting way too ambitious way too quickly.

And Kallus is all annoyed because Jovan isn’t giving him any good reasons to leave work, in fact, Jovan has been grating his nerves lately because he doesn’t do anything. Jovan isn’t ambitious enough. 

The resentment is BUIILLLDDDIINNNGGG

The night they break up is FUCKING CRAZY, OKAY

Jovan picks a fight because he fucking feels like it and Kallus is not having ANY OF IT. Huge blowout fight ensues; Jovan says something classist or something, Kallus calls him an “entitled, prissy twat,” Jovan tells Kallus with the “you wouldn’t have even graduated without my help,” Kallus fuckinf kicks the wall or something, Jovan starts yelling about the drywall, Kallus is like “okay, fuck you AND your goddamn drywall,” and JUST LEAVES

The next day Jovan comms Kallus like “bbg pleapelaleapsleapsleaplsea I messed up im sorry plzplzpzpzlpzlzpzlzp” and Kallus ignores the hell out of him. 

Kallus is pissed because tbh if things just went better, he honest-to-god would have married that man, but noOOOooOOooO, Jovan had to be STUPID

AND THEN SIXTEEN YEARS LATER KALLUS ARRESTS THAT HO and he is SOOOO HAPPY ABOUT IT

But then Jovan shows up in the rebellion and Kallus is so annoyed. 

Because for 1. He is kind of prissy and self important and most people would agree with that 2. No way they ended up in the same place after 18 years, that is so bs, and 3. It’s so awkward that Jovan has all of this info about who Kallus was growing up, and the life he lived before going into the ISB– in fact, he probably knows more than anyone in the Ghost crew just because he was there– and that is so mortifying

Jovan is so stoked

Because for 1. Kallus did all that work in the ISB only to end up a rebel anyways and that is hilarious 2. He has so much mildly embarrassing material about him in his back pocket. But tbh it’s kind of bittersweet for him because Kallus is his One that got away (He was planning on going RING SHOPPING, and then he got BROKEN UP WITH, what the FUCK) and he always reasoned with it by thinking that Kallus was irrevocably changed by the empire, and the Kallus he fell in love with wasn’t going to come back. BUT THEN IT TURNS OUT THAT HE IS BACK– yeah, he’s got a beard now, and he pretends to be all serious, but he’s the same snarky, cunning, side eyeing idiot that he fell for. And he knows he can't have him because that train has LEFT THE STATION

^^(This art is old so its a little jank but shhhhhhhhh, its the vibes that matter)

So he obviously deals with this by selling embarrassing pictures of Kallus from their academy years to Sabine, because that’s probably the best revenge he’s going to get.

Kallus is obviously over him, and has been for a LONG time, he just doesn't like Jovans personality, and Jovan kinda wants Kallus back but apparently that's not an option so they do end up creating a dynamic where they are so petty to each other when they get the chance. (Which is not often because the rebellion is big and if they can avoid each other, they will.)

[stuck-writing-sickos]

Slick (yandere coworker)

TWO

[Masterlist]

[T/w: suggestive content, misogyny]

<<hey do you fw this guy? ik hes not performing nearly as well as Lukas and Yuki but tbh i like writing him. the bite-sized nature of this story is liberating, as is the inner-monologue style ive chosen. given how busy ive been this feels good to write hahaha. lmk how we feel about this one.

Also if you noticed how misogynistic my characters all are - lord knows i tried not to build them this way. Unfortunately ive interviewed (informally) a lot of straight cis men in my life and i'll tell you what - they are even WORSE than what ive put down here. My commitment to psychological realism may be my demise. Sorry if you came to me looking for escapism. But hey, at least these guys commit to the bit, huh? dont fw this kinda guy irl tho lol>>

For my own sanity, please don't give me the truth.

So you are the type to fuck me then leave me, I see.

You were gone by morning. When did you sneak out? I have no clues. It was my fault, I didn't hold you tight enough when I drifted to sleep. Can you blame me, though? You worked your magic on me like your life depended on it. You treated your tongue and fingers like they were that of the Devil, and the rest of your body as if you were on a mission to recall the soul I owed you. You even attentively wiped me down, smiling, your lips butterflying on my sweaty forehead. You acted like all the trickstery you had pulled were out of love.

No... it really was my fault. I should have been the one giving you the time of your life. Instead I let you play me like a fiddle... my god. How embarrassing. How very emasculating. I can't fault you for being gone so soon when I lied sprawling and broken after you were done with me. For godsake, I whimpered and whined under you.

I tried texting you, but you took half your Sunday to respond. What the hell were occupying your time? Did you have any idea how each hour agonizingly crawled past me? I guess not. I asked if you got home okay. You said "of course, thanks for checking in on me. You're so nice!"

Man, fuck you.

I bit the bullet and asked you out again. No respond for the rest of the day. Fine. No big deal. I was never one to be bothered by juvenile texting etiquettes. You were busy. I get it. You had plans. You're a busy person. All good.

Or you lost interest in me.

I feel used, but I wasn't sure for what. You weren't on it for a free dinner, that's for sure - you have never looked like you were strapped for cash. As for my body... I don't believe what I gave was nearly adequate. You didn't even give me a chance to prove myself - hell, you pushed me down on my own bed and wringed all you could out of me. Why on Earth did you humor me, if you got nothing worthwhile out of me?

Maybe you found that out afterward. You saw me at work, then at dinner, then in bed, and you decided that I wasn't worth your time.

I'l give you one - I now know that you are very funny.

Elsewise, I got nothing.

Given your secretive nature I suppose you wouldn't kiss and tell. There's nothing in it for you, except for an even more tarnished reputation. We all hate you anyway.

Well, they all hate you.

The others didn't hold back when they talked about you - they made fun of your clothes for being "too nice" (whatever the hell that means). They also laughed between themselves about your overly formal and distant attitude - did you know they think you're a robot? You are especially NOT popular with the girls, by the way. They think you're, and I quote, a stuck-up bitch.

The fellows mostly don't mind you. With the way you conducted yourself around me, I'm sure you know how easy us men are by now - if you're kind to the eyes, we wouldn't have any qualms with you. But, we also have this pathetic thing we do where we agree with the ladies around us. They're easy on the eyes as well, and we want to scutter around them long enough to maybe get something out of them. Long shot, I know. Extremely desperate. Well, I know that, too. Forgive us when we nod along or laugh between one another when the gals make degrading assumptions about the men you might have slept with to get all the nice things you have, like your shoes or clothes or earring or that enviable sense of financial security.

Again, I'm sorry.

I used to not think about their gossips, but the way you dominated my body and self worth stirred something ugly at the depth of my guts. Did you do this before? How many man have you spent the way you did me? How many were driven a wreck?

Actually, never answer that.

[wonwoonlight]

finding love / kim mingyu

a/n: mingyu brain rot bc i dreamt of him last night and ive never felt so loved 😭😭😭😭 first fic of the year! not proofread bc im too lazy. Enjoy🤍 do tell me if u enjoy this??? Hello???

wc: 1.1k // just some musings about love // fluff // super very soft // i dont think theres any warning except that i want him NOW.

[ ♤♤♤ ]

You don't know love until Kim Mingyu.

It's not anything as dramatic as you not believing in it. You just really haven't found the right person, nor have you been trying to look for one. Which is why it's a wonder that you end up with someone as wonderful as Kim Mingyu.

Your meeting with him wasn't anything special either. It's nothing out of a fiction; it's not exciting and it's not magical. It's just you, being Chan's friend and introduced to the members when he invited you to their concert and you visited the backstage once it finished.

It wasn't an instant click either, you just ended up talking individually somehow and the relationship progressed as time passed by.

You don't know love until Kim Mingyu.

He holds your hand when you're afraid even if you don't say anything.

He holds your hand when you're afraid even if he's afraid.

You both hate horror movies with passion, but once in a blue moon you two would challenge yourself just to see if it has changed. Every single time Mingyu would brace it and watch through everything just so he can tell you when to close your eyes and when it's okay to open them again.

You don't know love until Kim Mingyu.

He would listen to everything you talk about. From your complain about your coworkers, to your random ramble about some stuff you see on Instagram reels.

He listens.

He always does.

Because one day you're talking about how it's been quite some time since you've eaten lasagna and the next dinner Mingyu bakes lasagna for you himself.

He listens.

Because when you mention once in passing to your friend, to which Mingyu only listens partly to because you're on the phone and doesn't realize he's already awoken from his nap, that you've always wanted to try snorkeling, Mingyu arranges for it immediately once he finds a suitable date for you both.

You don't know love until Kim Mingyu.

He finds time to contact you in midst of busy schedules, and always tells you beforehand if he's going to be too busy to reach out in any way. You've told him plenty of times that you understand and that he doesn't need to reassure you everytime, but you've also told him once long before you started dating that you're the type to welcome words of assurance more than anything.

So he continues to reassure you everytime he can.

“What do you think about this?” Mingyu asks, yet again in another set of outfits.

You don't know shit about fashion, and you think Mingyu looks good in everything because he knows how to dress himself well. This is something that he's aware of, but he also likes your validation so you always try your best to say anything other that “You look good” and “I like this better than the previous one”.

“I think… you know I like it best when you're in black so I'm not sure if your current outfit is actually better than the black one or not.” You say sheepishly, to which Mingyu laughs at.

Your heart skips a beat at the sound of his laughter, something that hasn't changed despite having dated him for almost a year now. He makes his way to you and engulf you in a hug, whispers something that sounds suspiciously like “you're so cute” though he doesn't admit it because you don't like being called cute.

“Hmm.. Maybe I should go for the black one.” He says as he looks at himself in the mirror once again.

“What? No! Wear what you think is best. You know I have zero sense of fashion.”

“You like it, though.”

“I like you. You know you can wear the ugliest shirt out there and I'll still like it.”

Mingyu freezes and you see the tips of his ears turning red. You don't always say your feelings out loud, and when you do, it always hits a soft spot within him. And for all the cheesy comments Mingyu always parades to his fans, he's actually bad at receiving them himself.

You would usually jump at this opportunity to tease him, but you're feeling especially soft today, so you walk up next to him and tiptoes to kiss his cheek.

“I appreciate your sentiment, but don't trust me this time around, okay?” You chuckle and cup his warm face before dropping a peck on his lips.

“Alright…” He presses his lips together and goes for another kiss. “You'll really like everything…?”

And as much as Mingyu reassures you, you reassure him back.

“I like you. So you can wear anything, and I'll like it as long as it's not something weird like a dragon costume or something.”

Mingyu succumbs with a shy smile and hides his face in your neck.

You don't know love until Kim Mingyu.

He's brought you happiness that you didn't know existed. He always makes your bad days good and your good days even better.

You automatically look for him when something makes you laugh, a part of you always wishes to share your happiness with him no matter where he is. You also look for him when you're not feeling your best, because one look and Mingyu knows you need him beside you, his arms enveloping you to ground yourself to him, and his deep voice reminds you that things are going to be okay.

“Does it bother you?” Seungkwan asks one day. You, him, Mingyu, and Seungcheol are chilling in Mingyu's dorm.

“What?” You return his question, getting more comfortable on the sofa. You're leaning against Seungcheol's shoulder, as Mingyu is too busy playing something on his phone and you don't want to restrict his movement by leaning into him.

“The… you know. Whispers. What people say?”

“About me and Mingyu?” You make sure. Your relationship isn't public, but you know some people in his company doesn't exactly approve of his choice of a girlfriend even though their opinions don't matter.

“Yeah…”

You hum as you look at Mingyu, sitting comfortably on the floor near Seungkwan. He comments on how random the younger guy's question is, but doesn't seem too bothered by it.

Something pleasant settles in your chest as you continue looking at him, your smile growing when the answer to Seungkwan's question pops in your mind.

“Not really, no.” You turn to him with a smile, your voice firm with security. “I know Mingyu loves me and that's enough.”

You don't know love until Kim Mingyu.

Because he loves you with everything he has to offer and beyond, never once failing to let you know his feelings haven't wavered.

Because you want to do everything for him even if you're not able to, your heart always finding a way to be with him even when he's not next to you.

[thisgirlnamedblusy]

Hallo!!

may i ask for a little spronkle of fluff? Donna goes out to town to buy fabrics, the neewww (oh, wow!) cleric selling it to her, Reader, has almost the exact same scar on their face (except for it not being unnaturally deformed, -- reader got it from like, an encounter with a rabid animal, or something),

Donna gets curious and asks about it, leading to a casual conversation, which led to Donna wanting to come back and chat with the new hire, seeing as how, unbeknownst to Reader (because, obviously, Donna wears the veil, Reader wouldnt know she had the same mutation) they had something in common, their scarring

Make it so that Reader (very slowly) catches on ?? And they develop feelings overtime ?? But, doesnt know if 'big-lady-Donna' feels the same way, so they just.. shaddap? (i had to use that 'big-lady' reference, or it wouldve haunted me, forgive, forget)

Reader asks to see Donnas face (although, very nervously, because of, yknow, Angie staring down Readers soul, aswell as Donnas rank/title), Donna complies, although hesitantly, and Reader is just so entranced by how similar the size/placement/colour of their scarring is, that theyre just so hyped, and cant help to call Donna beautiful, to call her newly-revealed, singular eye 'enchanting' and whatnot (make Reader a nervous sap, i beg and i plead, i need this prompt to rot my teeth),

Donna gets fed up from how clueless Reader is to how much Donna appreciates them -- leading to, very reluctant, and/or peeved (take that as you will, im unsure how to topic Donnas nerves, tremors, mood-swings and whatnot) confession, coming from Donnas side. (Meaning: Donna confesses first, very awkwardly, and shyly, and Reader obviously accepts, because, .. They're girlfriends, your honor!)

Angie, meanwhile, is hurling in the background because of how cheesy, and forced, Donnas confession was, (although, secretely, Angie is over the moon that her Donsie made a new (girl)friend). Maybe add a little bit of like, restless, over-thinking rambling in Italian to that mix. (Ex: Donna just going over about how cool it is that they have matching scars, maybe Reader could come over to her estate and see her portrait without it. *Mumble mumble, something nervy in italian*, do you wanna come over? Do you wanna see my workshop? Do you wanna see my dolls? I can have one resemble you. Do you sew? We can make dolls -- *Mumble, trips over words, Italian*)

Make it from Donnas prospective, Please and thanks!!

No smut, just wholesome wholesomeness, and ofcourse, happy, diabetes-inducing ending, where Reader does agree to come and hang out with her -- make them Girlfriends with your writers-magic from that point on, because i have no idea what else to add to explain how overtime THEY FALL INLOVESIES!!! (AGHH! SUCH ROMANCE! THEYRE SO INLOVE!!!)

No mention of G!P or just, like, any arousal in general (since ive seen it mentioned on other posts, by other people, when asked for no smut, i just wanted to clarify)

hope i explained this okay?? Sometimes im pretty vague/too specific while typing and add too many '()'s and '/'s (overthinking autism brain -- HEY! LOOK! I JUST DID IT AGAIN!)

wish ya the best of luck, aswell as the best of day, may Angie bite your fingers (not really.. aha.. joking! Or am i?), Ciao, Blusy!

Yesss!!! Wow, it was a curious request! Thank you!!! I hope you like it and sorry about the language mistakes!!!! :))))

Two broken faces

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem! Reader

Warnings:¡ fluff, Donna being Donna, Donna's POV

Word count: 9,376

Summary: She's so simliar, but so different...

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

I thought I had everything I needed.

I had my dolls, my books, the peace that solitude offers a woman like me… Always afraid of people, always hiding, I found in my isolated world a peaceful place to live, for all eternity.

I didn't ask for this, I never asked the Black Gods to have mercy on my soul, I didn't ask Mother Miranda to adopt me, I never asked anyone for that second chance, I just wanted to die.

Sometimes I wonder what would have happened if my family hadn't been noble, if my ancestors hadn't been part of the founding of this village. Maybe I would have had the chance to live in a different way or maybe my wish to disappear would have simply been fulfilled.

Donna Beneviento, a young woman who stopped fighting. Yes, surely they would put something similar on my grave. I would have become a legend, that woman who lost everything, who was cursed with an illness, who was condemned to watch how little by little, the world around me faded away behind that horrible waterfall.

But… After all, after that mercy that I didn't ask for, the result wasn't very different. To think that I was no longer alone would be to deceive myself. Angie was already speaking before I insisted on giving her life with my new gifts. Angie was me, I was Angie.

Maybe she's still me, even if I don't realize it, maybe I’m not even a Lord, maybe I wasn't even alive anymore. It was hard to know. That position of power that the Gods granted me only served to make my horrible thoughts to take shape, to find in cruelty a way to relieve the pain of my soul, the rage I felt at having been unjustly deprived of a normal life.

Josef was the first, but not the last.

What was the fault of the man who took care of me after the death of my family? None. Why did I do it? Because I could.

I try to look in the mirror and not see that reflection, the reflection of my horrible appearance, of that punishment for the sins I didn’t commit, but I only see a monster, a monster on the outside, a monster on the inside.

Surely that was what Miranda expected of me: another terrifying being to keep the flock under control. I cannot deny that she succeeded. I myself became the fear, the terror.

That legend that I thought I would become by ending my life became a dark tale, a nightmare story, the story of the terrible doll maker, Donna Beneviento.

I could not say when she stopped mattering to me, I cannot even say that one day she stopped. Loneliness was my fear, until it became my refuge. You did not love me before, when I was just a girl with a scar, now that I am a monster your punishment would be to fear me.

None of that matters, not even my brothers, nor this cursed village. I only care about Angie, my dolls, those that do not judge, that do not laugh at me, that do not fear me, that do not feel anything. The flesh deceives, lies, harms, porcelain does not. Porcelain is malleable, it looks the way I want, it is beautiful, soft and does not hate me.

I wish I could have been a doll, I wish I could free myself from the hatred that was inside me…

“Grigio,” I said in a whisper, while I was devoting my soul to making my dolls, to creating those emotionless beings that I envied.

Angie nodded, walking around the work table, looking for the fabric I asked for.

“Grey again, Donna?” the doll asked, in a mocking tone. I nodded without looking at her, finishing correcting the imperfections of that new companion.

“What's your problem with grey?” I asked, cleaning the smooth porcelain, with my gaze fixed on it, trying not to let Angie distract me, as she usually did.

“It's boring,” the doll said, handing me a too small piece of fabric, making me frown.

“It's not enough, I need much more,” I said focused, shaking my head. The doll shrugged, walking over to her new friend.

“There is no more grey fabric,” Angie mocked, hands on her hips.

I sighed, snapping out of my concentration, searching through the drawers. I would never trust Angie, I would never trust myself.

“There isn’t?” I asked confused, searching the workshop for the desired fabric. The doll growled angrily at my distrust, crossing her arms.

“I already told you, silly Donna,” she mocked, getting down from the table. I sighed, rubbing my eye. I had been in the workshop for hours, I couldn’t say how many.

“Angie…” I sighed tiredly, shaking my head and finally abandoning my dolls, walking through the dark basement hallway, through that comforting darkness. “I'm not in the mood for your nonsense.”

“Are you ever in the mood?” the puppet asked, with a mocking tone.

I didn't answer. I simply walked towards the phone, looking in a address book for the number of the village merchant, the Duke.

“Oh, oh, oh, ask the fat guy if he has yellow wool balls,” Angie said, tugging at my dress.

 I looked at her, unable to help but smile. Who it was didn't matter, my position as a Lord didn't matter, I was sure that, without Angie, I would have given up a long time ago.

“What do you want yellow wool balls for?” I asked amused, picking up the phone and dialing the number slowly, indicating to Angie that she should let herself be picked up. I still needed her to speak for me.

“I don't know, they're funny,” she commented, taking the phone while I lovingly put her old clothes on. “Hello, hello? Fatty?”

Nothing, no one seemed to answer.

“He doesn't pick up,” Angie whispered so I frowned, snatching the phone from her and checking she was telling the truth.

“Maybe he's not in the village,” I sighed, hanging up and shaking my head. “How convenient, I need that damn fabric.”

“He might be in his warehouse,” Angie commented, going back down to the floor. “Although I doubt he will fit through the door,” she mocked amused, making me smile again.

“What do we do now?” I asked, looking at the crumbling ceiling.

“Why don't we go to the village?” Angie suggested. “We can look for the Duke there.”

“No,” I said dryly, hardening my expression.

“Silly Donna... I want my wool balls!” the doll protested, in a childish way, irritating me again. “Let's go to the village, to the village!”

“Madonna… I said no, Angie,” I snorted, in a brusque tone.

No, I didn't want to go to the village, I didn't want to see anyone, I didn't want to see fear in people's eyes, I didn't want to see it again.

“Silly, you stupid pasta thing,” the doll hissed. “Stupid Donna”

“Are you done yet?” I asked with irony, with a dangerous look. As expected, the doll shook her head.

“Donna, you coward, I want my wool balls!” she shrieked irritatingly again, making me lose my patience.

“Chuidi quella cazzo di bocca!” I shouted furiously, completely out of my mind, causing the puppet to flee in terror, hiding behind a table.

Once again, I had lost control for no reason. I would never be able to escape my sentence.

I tried to relax, to make the trembling in my body disappear. I breathed deeply, lowering my head.

“Perdonami, Angie…” I sighed in a calmer tone, walking slowly to the doll's hiding place. She, timidly, peeked out. “I shouldn't have yelled at you.”

“You're very tense,” the doll whispered. “You have to relax...”

“I know, forgive me, please,” I said with my voice broken by the rage of my behavior, extending my arms towards her, who timidly approached, letting me pick her up from the floor.

 “Of course I forgive you, silly,” the doll said, hugging me in a childish way, bringing the smile back to my face.

“Fine… W-we'll go to the village to get the fabrics, what do you think?” I finally said, trying to compensate my only friend for having to put up with me day after day, for having to live… With a monster.

“Yay!” the puppet celebrated as I carried her in my arms, leaving the comfort of that dark basement.

I never liked going out, feeling the cold on my body, feeling insecure, outside the safety of the cracked walls. Maybe no one had the misfortune of seeing my face, but my mere presence was already uncomfortable enough for anyone.

Just think about it, a woman in black clothes, with her face hidden by a black veil, a lifeless figure which comes walking slowly towards you. It was terrifying.

Luckily, there didn't seem to be many people in the village, it was a cold morning. I also didn't want to notice if there were eyes watching me, if there was a child trembling in its mother's arms when it saw me walking.

The Duke's warehouse wasn't far away, and I headed there as quickly as possible. My breathing was uncontrolled, my anxieties were already starting to make me too nervous. I wanted to go home.

“Duuuuke!” Angie called when we entered the cabin. “Duuuuke! Where are you?”

There didn't seem to be anyone there and we both looked at each other, shrugging our shoulders. Not wanting to wait for that vermin to appear, I approached the place where he kept the fabrics, looking for that desired grey tone my doll needed.

“What do you think, Angie?” I asked the puppet, who was curiously rummaging through the merchant's things, nodding disinterestedly. “Where are the grey ones...?”

“Hello,” an unknown voice startled me, a female voice that was not familiar to me.

From among the boxes, a girl appeared, a young girl with a splendid smile. I didn’t recognize her, I would remember that face. Near her left eye there was a horrible scar. I couldn’t help but bring my hand to my face when I found a similarity between that deformity and mine.

The girl shook her hands, with an elegant gesture, without that smile disappearing.

“Lady Beneviento,” she said softly, lowering her head. “Surely the Duke would spend the whole morning flattering your presence but I believe in naturalness, do you need something?”

“Where is the fatty? Who are you?” Angie asked, letting me pick her up again while pointing at that unknown girl.

“Oh, the Duke is on a business trip, or so he told me,” she said, amused, shaking her head. “But I'm sure I can help you, or try, at least.”

I looked at her curiously, unable to take my eyes off her scar, one that didn’t hide her beauty at all. I couldn't say why, but my cheeks began to blush.

I didn't say anything. I just looked at her confused, just like the doll did with me, waiting for me to react.

“Oh, sorry, I haven't introduced myself,” the girl said with an apologetic look, extending her hand towards me, a hand that seemed very soft… “I'm (Y/N), the Duke hired me to be his assistant when he wasn't around. I manage the warehouse too.”

I hesitated for a moment. My instincts pushed me to reject that greeting, to ignore that smiling young woman, but, for some reason, I didn't. I slowly extended my hand towards hers, shaking it briefly, feeling for myself that I wasn't wrong, her skin was very soft, warm.

“It’s, it's a pleasure to meet you too,” she joked, confused by my shy greeting, with a natural, beautiful smile... “I never thought I'd have the honor of having one of you here.”

“Shut up, you stupid village girl! We've come for...” Angie said, interrupted by a sudden movement of my arms, letting her fall to the floor. “Hey!”

“I ne-ne-need fabrics,” I whispered with a hoarse, timid, barely audible voice. The girl frowned, coming a little closer to me.

“Excuse me, but I didn't hear you,” she said amused but with a kind look.

“Fabrics, stupid! Fabrics!” Angie shrieked, startling the young woman, who, surprisingly, kept her composure masterfully.

“Oh, fabrics, of course,” (Y/N) said, nodding and passing by me, letting me get a closer look at that scar so similar to mine, one that had me quite interested. “If you would be so kind as to come with me…”

I nodded slowly, following the young assistant through the warehouse.

“Are you looking for something in particular?” she asked naturally, rummaging through a pile of fabrics.

“G-Grey fabric…” I murmured, clearing my throat, with Angie looking at me strangely. I couldn't blame her for it, I was very nervous.

“Grey…” (Y/N) commented, searching with her eyes. “Oh, yes, here,” she said amused, pointing at several fabrics of that same color.

“Wool balls, we want wool balls,” Angie said with a haughty tone while I touched those fabrics with curiosity, unable to avoid looking at that girl out of the corner of my eye.

“Wool balls?” she asked confused, scratching her head. “Mm, yes, this way,” she said, gesturing for the puppet to follow her.

I paused for a moment to look at her again, my heart beating fast and my eye unable to stop studying each of her movements. She was a really beautiful young woman, who surely hid some terrible story, maybe one as horrible as mine, maybe… Oh, I didn’t know why I was thinking about it.

“Do you see anything you like?” she asked me when finished attending to Angie, getting closer to me, maybe too close, allowing me to look at her more closely again.

“Um, yes… I…” I stammered nervously, clearing my throat again and pointing at a random roll of fabric. Luckily, it was a grey one.

“This one? Good…” the young woman commented, taking the roll and heading to a small counter. “How much do you want?”

“No, I… I’ll take the entire roll,” I said, nodding, putting my hands together in front of my body, playing with them discreetly to try to stop shaking.

“The entire roll?” (Y/N) asked, frowning. The Duke never questioned me, why did she?

“Is there a problem, silly?” Angie asked mockingly, comically wrapped in a wool ball.

“No, there’s no problem but… I don’t know if you can handle it, it’s quite heavy,” the girl said amused, leaning on the counter and looking at that large roll of fabric. “I mean, I’m not saying you can’t… I mean, I…”

I laughed at that shy side, that nervous side my presence provoked in her. Normally I would have groaned or sighed at the sight of her body trembling, but on that occasion, I didn't. Even when she was nervous, she couldn't lose that bright smile.

“Calm down, I know what you mean,” I said in a different tone, louder and noticeable, as if my own voice was eager to talk to her.

“Uff, okay...” she sighed, running a hand over her forehead in a playful way. “Sorry, my lady, I'm not used to dealing with... Lords, you know.”

I laughed again, shaking my head. I could feel Angie's eyes looking at me inquisitively, but I didn't pay attention to them. Not wanting to look stupid, I took out a bag of coins, leaving them on the counter. (Y/N) picked them up, writing something down in a notebook.

“Fine...” the girl murmured, leaving the pen on top of the notebook. “Do you need anything else, my lady?” she asked kindly.

I shook my head, turning to leave, picking up my doll again, who was still staring at me.

“No, thank you,” I muttered before walking out the door. Something, something made me stop and turn around. “Uh, actually, I do.”

“Mm?” (Y/N) hummed, with that same kind smile, following me with her gaze as I approached the counter again.

“I don't remember seeing you before,” I said with a dry voice, with an indifferent tone. I didn't want to show her how nervous I was, besides, I didn't even know why I was that nervous.

“I'm elusive,” she answered amused, leaning on the counter in a casual manner. “But the truth is that I've been here all my life.”

“Working for the fat guy?” Angie asked, with a curious tone, shifting in my arms.

“No, no,” (Y/N) said, shaking her head, laughing amused. “I mean, I've been in the village all my life.”

“Really? It's funny, you don't sound familiar to me,” I commented, with a slightly dark tone, analyzing her expressions. The girl shrugged, as if it wasn't the most comfortable question for her.

“Well... I'm not very fond of masses...” she murmured in a cautious tone. “Don't get me wrong, I adore Mother Miranda, and you, and of course I pray to the Black Gods every day and...”

“Mmm…” Angie got out of my arms, walking along the counter until she was very close to her. “She's lying.”

“What? Oh, no, no, I’m not,” the assistant said, now a little more scared. “No, my lady, no, I'm not lying.”

“I don't care if you are, (Y/N),” I commented, moving the doll away from her, laughing shyly again. “I'm not judging you.”

“Oh, okay…” the girl sighed, with an exaggerated gesture of relief. “Well, to be honest, I've never had a particular interest in… All that stuff about the Gods.”

I nodded nervously, wanting to ask a thousand questions, without knowing why, without knowing what exactly was keeping me in that warehouse.

“But, but I go to masses,” she said with a more relaxed tone, pretending sincerity. “Um… Um…Do you want… Do you want something else?”

“No,” I answered abruptly, turning around again and walking towards the door.

When I arrived, I realized that my legs weren't moving, that my head wanted to turn towards that girl again. My behavior was strange, but I couldn't help it.

“Yes,” I said, entering again, causing her to laugh amusedly and look at me in amazement, probably because of my pathetic attitude. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Lycans,” she answered, relaxing her expression. I frowned and shook my head, confused.

“Cosa?”

“My scar, I know you were going to ask me about it,” she said with a relaxed tone, pretending to read the notes in that account book.

“No, I…” I stammered, embarrassed to know that it was really what I wanted to know, what had caught my attention.

“Don’t worry, my lady, nothing is wrong. I’m not ashamed of it,” she said with a sincere look, one that made me see that her left eye had a slightly whiter tone, as if it had no life.

That was how I was like when I was a child, when everyone laughed at me.

“What…? What happened to you?” I asked in a cautious, strangely curious tone.

“When I was 10 I made the stupid mistake of going into the forest at dusk, you know, I wanted to be the bravest girl and blah blah blah…” (Y/N) commented casually, gesturing with her hands. I nodded for her to continue. “How was I supposed to know that there were lycans in the woods? It seems unlikely in a place like this, right? Um, sorry, it was, it was a joke.”

“Uh-huh,” I whispered, frowning. “A joke?”

“Yeah, well… I've learned that, in order to be happy, you must learn to laugh at yourself,” (Y/N) explained, with a smile adorning her beauty again.

“Do you find that some lycans hurt you funny? You could have died,” I said annoyed by that attitude. No, that wasn't funny, it couldn't be.

“I know, but… Here I’m,” she said sighing, spreading her arms in a playful way. “I lost the vision of my left eye, but… I'm still alive, and that's the important thing.”

“You seem like a very optimistic girl,” I commented, with an amused laugh, inadvertently getting a little closer to her.

“Mm, well, it can't be any other way,” the girl said in a relaxed tone, tilting her head.

“It must have… It must have been… difficult for you, you know…” I said stuttering, raising my hand to discreetly point out the deformity of her face. “Children can be very cruel.”

“Oh, not at all,” she said with a wider smile, shaking her head. “There hasn't been anyone brave enough to mess with me.”

I laughed again, incredulous at that attitude, one so different from mine. So similar and so different at the same time… Like the two sides of the same coin.

“Why you say so?” I asked curiously, with Angie starting to get impatient, tugging at my dress probably wanting to go back home.

“Because if they did… Well, they were very likely to go home with a black eye,” she whispered in a lower voice, as if she wanted to tell me a secret. “You know what they say: an eye for an eye, right?”

She was a mysterious girl, one who, with every thing she said, brought a soft laugh to my lips. It had been a long time since I laughed so many times, that the smile refused to leave my face.

“Um, I…” I murmured after a moment of awkward silence, holding Angie's hands, which pulled at my dress harder and harder. “I'll leave you alone, I've already stolen too much of your time.”

“You can steal all the time you want, my lady, as you see, there's no one around here,” the merchant said amused, looking around.

“Um, yes, well, I… I'm, I'm leaving, th-thanks,” I stammered, closing my eye because of my pathetic stammering, ready this time to really leave, to control my desire to stay and chat with that girl.

“Wait,” she said, leaving me pinned to the ground, walking out the counter. “Wait, I…”

“Mm?”

“Um, hey, you're not as scary as they say,” (Y/N) said nervously, biting her lip to contain her words, words that, apparently, came out of her mouth on their own. “I mean, I, I liked meeting you, Lady Beneviento.”

“Oh, I…” I stammered, struggling between joy and anger. I couldn't blame her for fearing me, everyone did and everyone would, forever. “Me… Me too, (Y/N)…”

It could have been just another day, but it wasn't. Meeting (Y/N) made me start to smile. It didn't matter what I was doing: cooking, reading, working with my dolls... The beauty of her face was always present in my thoughts.

Chance is a capricious God, one that made me suddenly find myself with my distorted reflection. Yes, a scar identical to the one I had as a child, a face deformed by misfortune, just like me.

But, even though we had that in common, we were very different. (Y/N) was cheerful, outgoing and didn't let anyone make fun of her. I was the opposite, like an evil double, like the negative of a photograph. It might seem silly, but, as the days went by, that urge to want to go back to the warehouse became more and more intense.

Sewing in my workshop, as always, I searched in my head for a logical explanation for my sudden interest in that young woman, like every time I did, without finding an answer.

“Angie,” I said, frowning, looking at the old sewing machine. The doll, having fun with her new wool balls, walked towards me comically getting tangled in the yellow thread.

“I hope it's not something to do with the girl from the warehouse,” the puppet hissed. Poor thing, she was sick of hearing me talk about her.

“No, no,” I said with a look that gave away my lie. “Look,” I helped the doll to get on my lap while pointing at the old machine.

“What's wrong?” she asked, looking at the machine and then at me, confused.

“Don't you see it?” I asked with a frown, picking up a piece of freshly sewn fabric. “Look at these seams, they're not right.”

“They’re just like always,” the doll commented, playing with the piece of fabric in her hands.

“No, no, not at all,” I said, shaking my head again, blinking, giving away my lie. “There's something wrong with the machine.”

“Do you know what's wrong? Your brain,” the doll mocked, causing me to grunt. “There's nothing wrong with the machine, Donna.”

“I'm telling you, it's broken,” I insisted, pretending to look for the fault that old machine didn't have. “I think there's something stuck… I should take it to (Y/N). Maybe she can take a look at it.”

“Oh, of course, of course…” the doll sighed, moving her arms in an exaggerated way. “You just want to see her again.”

“No, I… Non è vero…” I muttered, stumbling over my words. “It's, it's the machine…”

“There's nothing wrong with the machine, silly Donna, stop making stupid excuses. If you want to see (Y/N), why don't you just go?” Angie said, putting a wooden finger on my nose, which I wrinkled in displeasure, determined to deny the evidence.

“It’s not about that, Angie,” I protested, pounding my fists on the table but relaxing instantly. “I want her to take a look at it.”

“A look?” the doll scolded me. “Oh, yes, what a great idea… What are you going to tell her when she realizes that the machine is perfectly fine?”

I tried to fight back, but I couldn’t. I huffed angrily, gritting my teeth. Angie was right. My legs trembled nervously as my gaze wandered to the old machine. I didn’t even think about it.

With a quick gesture, I pushed the sewing machine to the floor, crashing against it with a dull sound, indicating that something had broken. It was a pathetic, almost desperate plan. I still didn’t know what I was doing, why I was doing it, or rather, I didn’t want to know.

“Silly Donna! Nonna’s machine!” Angie shrieked, getting down to the floor to check the condition of the machine. I remained serious, but I adopted a haughty pose.

“What do you say now? Diamo un’occhiata?” I asked mockingly, bending down to pick up the broken machine from the floor, ignoring the insults and protests of the doll.

It was too easy for me to put the veil back on and leave my house. I had a fixed destination. I had her beauty waiting for me. I think I was starting to get too nervous. Breaking my grandmother’s machine so I could see that girl… It sounded crazy, but I didn’t want to think about it.

“Oh, my lady, what a surprise,” (Y/N) said, coming down a ladder, with a, as always, beautiful smile. “The Duke has already returned from his trip, he should have brought you the fabrics.”

“Yes, I…” I murmured nervously, holding the box under Angie’s fierce gaze. “I wanted, I wanted to see you.”

“Me?” the girl asked, approaching curiously, brushing the dust off her dress.

I could only nod, leaving the box on the counter.

“I thought you could help me with this,” I muttered, with a broken voice, much more nervous than in our first meeting.

“Wow…” the young woman commented, taking the broken machine out of the box, observing every detail. “A Singer 66k, from 1917… What happened to it? It's in pieces…”

“Angie threw it,” I lied cowardly, earning a furious gasp from the doll.

“What are you talking about?!” the doll shrieked unpleasantly. “Liar, Donna liar, Donna…!”

I silenced the puppet with a subtle movement of my hands, making it stop screaming and move away, unable to stop it from glaring at me as it did so.

“Oh, that was a nasty fall…” (Y/N) joked, studying the machine. “It's a shame, it's a beauty.”

“C-Can you fix it?” I asked timidly, starting to regret what I had done. Her smile showed me that I shouldn't do it.

“Mm, I think so,” she said nodding, moving the machine to a small table with tools. I followed closely, watching her curiously. “Let's see…”

“I can, I can leave you alone if you are more comfortable,” I murmured when she started working, checking the pieces with a frown. She stopped and looked at me, shaking her head, with that wonderful smile…

“Oh, no, well… It's good to have some company, besides, that way I can prove that I'm not scamming you,” the assistant said amused, carefully unscrewing the machine.

“I trust you,” I said without thinking, playing with my hands again, trying not to look at her face, not to notice that scar that told me we had something in common, even if she couldn't know it.

“You must be the only one,” she commented sighing, searching for something in a box of spare parts. I tilted my head curiously. “Normally the people of this village are quite distrustful… I can't blame them, my boss is not exactly a… reliable man…” she said smiling, making the gesture of quotation marks with her fingers.

“You are not like him,” I said, stating a truth of which I was completely sure.

“Mm no, I hope so,” the girl joked amused, struggling with the machine. “Okay…”

Silence reigned again in the warehouse. She worked on the machine with surprising skill while I watched her, memorizing each of her movements. If she had noticed how I looked at her… Well, she would surely be terribly uncomfortable.

“So… Do you use this machine to you make clothes for your dolls?” (Y/N) asked, taking me out of my thoughts. “Y-you made dolls, right?”

“Cosa?” I said distractedly, thinking about her past, about how she had to live through that attack, about her courage when facing mockery and offensive comments, how did she do it? “Oh, I… Yes, yes of course…”

She smiled, nodding, without stopping working.

“You know? You can tell the quality of a handmade product…” she commented distractedly. “I mean, there are modern machines now but… If you ask me, I prefer the old ones, like this beauty”

“Y-Yes, I… I think the same,” I said with a smile that she couldn't see, luckily.

“I think… I think it's done,” she said, moving the crank to check that it worked correctly. “Just like new.”

I didn't expect it to end so quickly. I got nervous, like every time something didn't turn out the way I had thought.

“You are… You are skilled,” I flattered her, taking the machine and checking that, indeed, it was already fixed.

She shrugged, with an amused smile.

“There had to be something good about me, right?” she joked, getting up from the table and passing by me, allowing me to look even more at her beauty.

“Uh… Tell me how much I owe you,” I said, putting the machine back in the box, searching in my head for an absurd excuse to stay a little longer, just a little longer…

“Oh, nothing,” she said, looking at me amused, shaking her head. “It’s not necessary.”

“W-Wait, I have, I have to pay you,” I said, with my hands starting to sweat again. You relaxed your expression, sighing and shaking your head again.

“No, that it’s not necessary,” the girl said with a confused smile, surely due to the trembling of my body. “I’m happy to help you, my lady.”

“No, don't be condescending to me for who I am, I beg you to let me pay you,” I insisted with a darker, almost angry voice. Her smile was worth more than all the gold in the world...

“I'm not condescending, I'm just doing you a favor, I like you,” she murmured, frowning, as if she was trying to meet my gaze.

I pointed at myself in surprise. The words refused to come out of my mouth.

“Do you... do you like me?” I asked stammering, puzzled by that phrase, one that couldn't be true.

“Yes, you're kind,” she said, looking away. “It's not something that's especially common in this place.”

“Oh, well, I... I...” I said nervously, having the imperative need to run out of there to hide my embarrassment, the invisible blush on my cheeks. “Grazie, (Y/N)…”

“Prego,” (Y/N) said, with a wider smile, as if she knew the reaction that hearing her speak that way would provoke in my body, paralyzing it completely.

“D-Do you know Italian?” I asked curiously, with my voice shaking at the same time as my body. She laughed amused, with a clueless expression.

“Nope,” she whispered in an ironic tone. “I know the basics.”

“Oh, of course…” I said, even more nervous, looking for Angie with my gaze. “I… I'm, I'm leaving now and… Well, we'll see each other, and…”

“Whenever you want,” (Y/N) said, sitting on the counter casually, swinging her legs and picking up what looked like a cup of coffee. “Um, my lady,” she said suddenly, when I had already turned around. My blood froze again. “I hope your doll doesn't break any more things.”

“Hey!” Angie protested, rummaging through the counter. “Shut up, you idiot!”

“Angie…” I sighed, gesturing with my head so the puppet would stop stirring everything up.

“She seems to be funny,” (Y/N) commented, looking curiously at Angie.

“Yes… W-Well… She's… I don't know how to describe her…” I said, more and more nervous. “I guess she's one of a kind.”

“I see, she's like you then,” the girl said in a low tone, one that betrayed nervousness. The doll was making her nervous.

“Angie, basta,” I growled at the puppet, who was staring indiscreetly at the cup of coffee.

“Do you like coffee?” the saleswoman asked in a kind tone, looking at Angie, letting me see her beautiful, damaged face. It was so similar to mine…

“I don't know,” Angie said, in a petulant tone. “What I know is that calling this thing coffee is blasphemy, how disgusting.”

“Angie…” I protested, losing my nerves, kicking the floor pathetically.

“Hey, it's not that bad, is it?” (Y/N) asked, bringing the cup to her lips and making a face of disgust. “Well, maybe it is.”

“Don't mind her, (Y/N)…” I sighed, noticing how the sweat ran down my forehead, how my nerves kept increasing. “Angie, dai!”

“Don't be mad at her, my lady, she's right,” (Y/N) said, pouring another coffee into a different cup. “Maybe you can give me your opinion… You, you Italians are good with coffee, aren't you?”

“Me?” I asked, leaving the box on the counter, timidly reaching out my hand for the cup she offered me. “W-Well, I wouldn't know how to answer that… Actually my, my family was Italian, I… I was born here.”

“Well, but I'm sure you have better taste than me,” the girl commented, leaning on the table, frowning suddenly. “Oh, it's not mandatory, I'm sure you have a lot of things to do instead of wasting time with me.”

“Not really,” I whispered, breathing heavily at her apparent nervousness. Not wanting to think, not wanting to feel the things I felt when looking at her, I brought that steaming coffee to my lips, moving my veil aside.

(Y/N) looked away, not wanting to be indiscreet, respecting my decision, but fighting with herself to do so. I could see her confused face, her desire to look at me.

The bitter taste filled my throat. It was really horrible, I hate having to agree with Angie.

“How is it?” the young woman asked, with a fearful look. I shook my head, pushing the disgusting coffee away from my sight and smell.

“È orribile…” I murmured, trying to sound amused. I never knew how to do it.

“I thought so…” the girl sighed, making a face of disgust at that cup. “No matter how hard I try, I can't handle that thing,” she said amused, pointing to an old coffee maker.

“Do you want me to show you how to do it?” I asked without thinking, I asked without wanting to, without being able to help it. She looked at me curiously, then at the coffee maker, and finally at me again, nodding with a shy smile.

“Well, it's not necessary,” she murmured, scratching the back of her neck, downplaying it.

“Please, consider it… A favor,” I said, mysteriously sure of myself. “Because, because of the machine.”

“Mm, well, okay,” she said quickly, gesturing for me to follow her.

As calmly as I could, I taught the young woman how to make a real coffee and how to handle that coffee maker properly. She listened to me attentively, looking at me from time to time and writing down my advice in a notebook.

She was so close to me, her bright eyes were so close to mine… I don't know at what moment I was stuck in her gaze, in her almost perfect face, no, no, in her perfect face.

“It smells so good…” she commented, inhaling the intense aroma of coffee, closing her eyes, granting me the blessing of contemplating her relaxed face, her tender gaze. “I was definitely doing everything wrong.”

I laughed shyly, pouring some coffee into a cup, offering it to her kindly, praying that she wouldn't notice my shaking hands.

“Try not to fill it with too much water,” I said with a serious tone, pretending disinterest while she tasted my creation, with a look of satisfaction. “Always pay attention to the valve.”

“Yes, this is wonderful…” (Y/N) sighed. “Oh, sure, um… Let me pour you one cup.”

“I… Okay…” I stammered, accepting the offer to sit next to her in a couple of chairs.

Without having thought about it, we were together, enjoying a quiet coffee.

I couldn't remember when I felt so calm, so relaxed and at the same time, so nervous, with my heart beating too fast. I guess it was the coffee…

“And then I told him: I don't need to see with both eyes to notice that you're a complete idiot,” (Y/N) said, chatting with me in a friendly way, as if she had known me all my life. I wish it were like that.

“Did you tell him that?” I asked amused, unable to stop smiling. She nodded with a serious look.

“He wanted to go on a date with me to give me a chance, can you believe it? A chance, as if I couldn't choose...” she asked ironically, shaking her head.

I didn't answer, I just listened attentively. Her anecdotes were funny, but hearing them through her lips... That was out of this world.

“Bah, I don't need a stupid boy to tell me nice things... I know he would only do it out of pity,” she said with a slightly sadder tone.

“Mm,” I murmured, playing with my hands in my lap.

“Every morning I look at myself in the mirror and think: what would my life be like if I didn't have this thing on my face?” she commented distractedly again, stirring her coffee with her spoon erratically. “I always come to the same conclusion: Here I am, this is me, and if you don't like it, fuck you... Oh, I mean, sorry... Go to hell?”

I laughed again, a bit sadly. I saw so many things about myself in her, things she didn't consider a problem. She was brave, I was a coward.

“I wish I could think the same way,” I murmured with a broken voice, attracting her attention, drawing a confused look towards me.

“Why do you say so?” she asked in a different tone, with a more discreet smile, with the glint of caution in her eyes.

I suppressed a sob. (Y/N)'s attitude was admirable, enviable. I was never able to accept reality, to look at myself in the mirror in the same way. I was a monster, and she wasn't.

“Forget it, it's nonsense,” I sighed, getting up, wanting to go home, wanting to cry for being unable to recognize the meaning of my heartbeat, wanting to scream, to curse the Black Gods for being unfair to me.

“Oh, have I, have I said something wrong, my lady?” (Y/N) asked, suddenly standing up, putting a hand on my wrist, making my whole body shudder.

“No,” I said in a cold tone, moving away from her grip, perhaps too abruptly. “Dai, Angie,” I whispered to my doll, who was playing with the junk in that warehouse.

“W-Wait, I'm, I'm sorry,” the girl said, stopping me from continuing, standing in front of me with a pleading look.

“Why are you sorry?” I asked, with an involuntary resentment in my voice.

“Well, I, I didn't want to offend you… If I’ve said something I shouldn't have… Oh, of course, it's because of the: fuck you… I don't usually swear, really… Not always…” the young woman stammered nervously, with her gaze traveling everywhere, unable to focus on mine.

“You haven't offended me,” I said, trying to sound softer so my demons wouldn't overwhelm me again, not at that moment, not with her. “I have to go.”

“Sure, I…” she stammered, helping me to pick up the box again, with a fake smile. “Um, if you're not mad at me… Maybe you'd like to come tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” I asked, surprised by that offer.

“Yes, you know, I, I'd like you to check if I've learned anything about coffee,” she said nervously, with a strange blush on her cheeks.

“Do you want me to come here tomorrow?” I asked again, unable to believe her words.

“Yes, well… Yes, if you want,” she whispered, biting her lip and looking away.

“Mm, maybe I will,” I murmured, smiling, taking advantage of the fact she couldn't see me, my smile was hidden from her, as my monstrous face was.

That was the beginning, just the beginning of my constant visits to that old warehouse.

Funny conversations, exploits and experiences of (Y/N)… Any reason was good to hear her voice, to look at her beauty under the aroma of coffee. I could no longer deny myself my feelings. I couldn’t stop thinking about her, every minute, every second.

“Donna and (Y/N) under a tree …” Angie sang, jumping around while I, like every day, walked towards the village. I growled angrily at the doll, wishing she would shut up.

“Angie, per favore…” I sighed, shaking my head. “Don’t, don't talk that loud…”

“Oh, come on, there's no one here,” the puppet protested. “Besides, you're offended because you would like to be with (Y/N) under a tree.”

“Yes, it's true,” I said with a murmur, taking the doll in my arms so she wouldn't entertain me any longer. “(Y/N) is wonderful, don't you think?”

“(Y/N) is wonderful, beautiful, good, kind, fantastic, the best… Yes, yes, you've been repeating it constantly for weeks,” the doll mocked.

I smiled embarrassed.

“I've never felt this way about anyone,” I sighed, walking slower. “Angie, I'm… I'm in love with (Y/N)…”

“I know!” she complained, crossing her arms. “You're so annoying, Donna…”

“I'm not annoying, I'm talking about my feelings,” I said with a frown. “Hey, do you think, do you think she…?”

“Oh, no, no… Don't try to make me believe that I'm a fortune teller or something, I've already told you that I don't know if she feels the same. I can't read minds,” Angie said, shaking her head.

“But you're always with us,” I said, stopping before crossing the door. “Maybe, maybe you saw something that…”

“Oh, yeah… She doesn't take her eye off you,” the doll mocked with an evil laugh. “You get it? her eye.”

“Cazzo… I'm serious,” I said with a stern tone, starting to breathe hard.

“Me too,” Angie said, defensively.

I sighed, frustrated for not knowing, for not being able to read her thoughts, to decipher her smiles, to know if in any of them, she expressed something else than friendship…

“Oh, but that's not what I'm looking for,” the voice of an unknown woman made me stop in front of the warehouse door. (Y/N) was not alone.

“Who is that witch?” Angie asked, peeking through the door. I covered her mouth, hiding behind a wall.

“Mrs. Gravic…” (Y/N) sighed with a tired voice. “If you would be so kind as to tell me what you are looking for…”

“How rude, girl,” the woman protested, with a tone that made me burn with rage. “I don't know why the Duke hired you…”

“Donna… What do you think?” Angie whispered, rubbing her hands in a playful manner. I nodded, concentrating and gently reaching out my hand towards that unpleasant woman.

“Let's see… What do you say about this?” (Y/N) said, leaving something on the counter, something I couldn't see.

“Mm… Well, it could be that… Oh, Black Gods… Grandpa Igor…” the woman sighed and I smiled in satisfaction.

“Excuse me?” the girl asked, confused.

“Oh, I didn't mean to steal Grandma's jewels, don't chase me, leave me alone… No!” the woman screamed, running out of the warehouse in horror.

I nodded to the doll, high-fiving her. Mission accomplished.

“Hey, Mrs. Gravic?” (Y/N) said, looking at her confused, smiling when she saw me walk through the door. “Oh, Donna.”

“Ciao, (Y/N),” I said with the tone I always used for her, a calm one, increasingly sweeter, increasingly obvious.

“You came early today,” she commented, closing the door, like every time we were together, as if she wanted to save that moment just for the two of us. I shouldn't mistake that kindness, but at the same time, I couldn't help but do so.

“Well…” I said disinterestedly, leaving Angie on the floor, sitting on my usual chair. “I hadn’t anything better to do… I mean… Ugh…”

She laughed amused, shyly looking away, pouring the usual coffee.

It seemed like any other conversation. My words lost their fear. They became bold, even funny. All conversations developed the same way, all except that one.

“Um, forgive me for asking you but…” (Y/N) murmured, with a serious, different tone, with a look far from usual. “You probably think I'm stupid or… Well, that I'm butting in where I shouldn't but… I'm, I'm curious.”

“What are you curious about?” I asked, confused by her different attitude, by the fear I began to see in her hands.

“That,” she said with a sigh pointing at my covered face, one to which I brought my hand, with my breath frozen, lacking air.

 No, not that, my love…

“Um… What?” I asked nervously, diverting the conversation, saying with my gestures that this was the wrong path, that it would only bring her problems.

 “Well, you know, your veil… Why…? Why are you wearing it?” she asked again, her voice increasingly blurred by nervousness.

“Hey! Don't dare to say that to my Donna!” Angie shouted, staring at her, as if she was trying to do me a favor by deciphering her expressions.

“I…” I muttered. My hand was shaking so much that I dropped the coffee cup, breaking it into a thousand pieces on the floor. “Oh, porca miseria!”

“No, it's okay!” she exclaimed, putting her hands in front of her body. “It, it was my fault, I shouldn't have asked that… I, I… I'm, I'm sorry, shit, oh, no, no, I mean, dammit! I'll go to get a broom.”

I stood up, looking at the mess beneath me, nervous, seeking Angie's comfort, one that always brought me back to my senses. I couldn't find her, but I made a decision, the last decision, one last act of stupid bravery.

“Wait,” I said in a whisper, grabbing (Y/N) by the wrist as she swept the floor. “Wait, (Y/N)...”

She looked at me scared, guided by the movement of my hand, which forced her to keep her eyes on mine. Slowly, letting her go, I brought my hand to the black fabric, removing it from my face, revealing my deformed face to her.

Neither of us said anything. (Y/N) blinked in confusion, staring at me, getting a little closer, squinting, mouth agape. I looked away, suppressing my desire to put the veil back on, to run away and never come back.

“Wow...” she sighed, reaching out her hand to my face. I breathed nervously, holding her wrist tightly so it wouldn't reach its destination. I was about to lose my mind, in front of the love of my life… “Donna, wait, let me do it, please.”

I closed my already wet eye, holding back my tears, letting the softness of her hand caress my horrible scar, touch my hair with a rapt look.

“It's, it's incredible...” she murmured again, without stopping caressing me while I, nervous, unable to move, let that tear run down my cheek.

(Y/N) took her hand away, bringing it to her own scar, shaking her head. I couldn't speak, I couldn't even move.

“Donna, you are, you are... You are such a beautiful woman...” she said, smiling in a nervous but sincere way, illuminating me with the light of her beauty, returning her hand to my deformity, as if she herself were as nervous as I was.

“What are you talking about?” I said with great effort, almost furious, clenching my teeth. “N-N-non mi mentire…”

“I'm not lying…” she sighed, touching her own scar again, with a look of astonishment. “Wow, it's… Incredible… We have almost the same scar… Wow… Forgive me, it's just… What a coincidence, isn't it?”

“No, you're beautiful and I'm horrible,” I said sobbing, not believing her words, not even for a second.

“Oh, you must be joking,” (Y/N) said in a calmer tone, almost amused. “You have… You have a beautiful face… And well, what about that eye? It's, it's the most beautiful eye I've ever seen in my entire life.”

“What? Have you gone crazy?” I asked nervously, letting the veil fall to the floor. “Are you laughing at me?”

“Do you really think I'm laughing at you? Really?” she joked, pointing out her defect with a smug pose. I shook my head, trying to control my thoughts. “No, Donna, I'm telling you, I'm telling you the truth… Wait, what did you say?”

“Mm?” I muttered confused, running my hand through my hair, feeling unable to handle the situation any longer.

“That, that thing you said before…” she said, gesturing with her hand, accidentally stepping on the remains of that cup. “You know, that I'm…”

“You're beautiful,” I said with my head down, clenching my fists tightly.

“Mm, and how do I know you're not lying to me? You're my friend, there's no need to be accommodating,” she joked with an amused face, completely ignoring my subtle statement.

“Friend? Are you stupid?” Angie asked. “Donna, please… Tell her now.”

“Tell me what?” (Y/N) asked, curious. I cursed my doll. I was becoming more and more nervous.

“I don't know what she's talking about,” I stammered, having to stop my legs from running away right then and there.

“Hey, you can tell me anything, Donna…” the girl said, whispering in a tender voice, lowering her hands to mine, caressing them in a way that I thought was friendly, that I didn't think was romantic. “Really…”

“No, I…” I said, blinking nervously.

“Is there something worrying you?” she asked again, getting closer to me. “Come on, you can trust me.”

“(Y/N), I…” I stammered again, becoming almost hysterical as I looked at her peaceful gaze.

I couldn't believe it. I couldn't believe it was so difficult for her to understand my feelings. I had taken a definitive step, I couldn't go back. I couldn't turn back now that I had come that far.

“Cazzo! I, I like you, (Y/N)!” I squealed disproportionately, making her widen her eyes and frown.

“Oh, is that it?” she said, still smiling, not getting the not-so-indirect hint. “Oh, Donna, I like you too.”

“Angie’s right,” I hissed angrily, shaking my head. “Are you stupid? I’m telling that I like you, damn it!”

Her face immediately changed to a confused look. I growled again, kicking the chair roughly.

“What do you mean?” she asked again. I froze, turning to her slowly and dangerously. A thunderous laugh filled the warehouse. Angie seemed to be enjoying that.

“Porca puttana!” I squealed again, kicking the floor in rage. “I love you, (Y/N)! I’m fucking in love with you! I can't stop thinking about you day and night, counting the hours until I can see you again! I love you, ti amo! You're the woman of my life!” I squealed abruptly, making her blink comically.

“Oh…” she sighed, with an amused look.

“Is it clear now? Or do you need me to write it down for you?” I said, losing control of my emotions.

(Y/N) shook her head, but didn't say anything, so I growled furiously again, grabbing the notebook from the counter.

“I…Love…You. That's it, you still don't understand?” I said furiously, tearing off the paper and angrily putting it on her chest. “Taci, Angie or I'll deactivate you!”

“Hey… Come on… calm down…”(Y/N) said, putting a hand on my trembling shoulder, turning me around slowly. “Calm down…”

Her soft voice relaxed me, but the tears were already traveling freely down my horrible face.

“Shh…” you whispered in a tender voice, taking my hands again while I, desperate, shook my head.

“I-I'm in love with you, (Y/N)… Ti amo…” I whispered more timidly, coming back to my senses little by little, dying of embarrassment for my nervous outburst.

“Yes, I've already realized,” she said amused, bringing one of her hands to my intact cheek, wiping away one of my tears. “Donna… Listen to me… I… I feel the same way about you…”

“What?” I asked nervously, startling myself.

“The truth is that I didn't expect to fall in love with a Lord but… Well, I guess life has brought us together for a reason, don't you think? And I'm not just saying that just because... Well, you know," she said in a pleasant voice, pointing at her scar.

“You... You have feelings for me...” I said, not knowing if it was a question or a statement.

(Y/N), still caressing me, nodded.

“Please! I'm going to get diabetes!” Angie shrieked, breaking the magic of the moment. “Yuck...”

“Angie...” I lamented, just when I was starting to enjoy that moment.

“It doesn't matter, Donna...” she said, amused, still looking at me, still piercing my heart with her gaze. “You can tell she’s happy...”

“Well...” I said, laughing nervously.

“Hey... I thought about closing the store for today,” (Y/N) said, moving away. “Maybe you'd like to do something together...”

“Vu-Vuoli... Vuoli...fare qualcosa... in-insieme?” I stammered awkwardly, not keeping control of my own language.

“If you told me what I think… Yes,” she joked playfully. “Let’s do something together…”

“Oh, okay, I… Io… We can, go… You can… You can… You can come to my house if you want… I, you… you liked sewing, right?” I said nervously.

She nodded with a funny look.

“I can, I can show you my workshop, and… I can, I can… We can sew together… se… se hai voglia… E… And, I can, I can show you my bam… My dolls, and… I can, I can make one like you if you want, and we can, we can…”

“Donna,” she said, interrupting my pathetic attempt at conversation, relaxing my nerves with a soft caress, one to which I also joined my hand. “I would love to go to your house…”

“Really?” I asked, nodding, with a sincere smile, far from my usual nervous look. “Would you like to?”

“Yes…” she sighed, getting dangerously close to me. “But first, I'd like to do something…”

“Oh, okay, wh…?” I said nervously, interrupted by her lips, which kissed mine, caressed them in a tender way, in a way I never expected to feel. I don't know what her first kiss had been, but mine… I would never forget mine.

“Much better, don't you think?” she sighed still on my lips, letting the rhythm increase on its own, so I could kiss her without fear.

“Ugh, they’re kissing!” Angie protested.

We both smiled, resting our foreheads on each other.

“Come on, honey… I'm looking forward to see your dolls…”

[squidthesquidd]

*scratches at window cutely* any lore of pre-war Cybertron pls :3 💫💫

teehee :3 well… every since watching tfone my ideas have changed a bit, but most of my pre-war lore is a bunch of my favorite bits and pieces from other continuities! (also all bots have t-cogs)

as for characters, the ones I have the most ideas for pre-war are Optimus, Elita, Megatron, and ratchet! Optimus, elita, and megs were of course: Orion pax, Ariel, and D-16 (ratchet was always ratchet lol)

Orions job was to transport energon from the mines to the refineries, so he wasn’t actually in the mines himself, and instead worked around them. he did essentially live with the miners though. I think ive mentioned this before, but his cooling and ventilation systems have never worked properly, so despite his job being very easy for most, it put a lot of strain on him because of how easily he overheated.

Ariel wasn’t a miner herself, she was a mining dump truck, so she just carried away all the unneeded material that was dug up. also!! she used to be yellow instead of pink (tfa elita reference lol) She always followed the rules and did what she was told.. except when it came to orion. her superiors often gave orion a hard time, so she would get in the middle of it, and since she’s huge and great at her job, they could never get rid of her for insubordination. (she was also the only dump truck at the mine she was stationed at so she definitely wasnt expendable)

D-16 worked in the mines just as your typical run of the mill miner. he was great at what he did, buuuuuut he did have a bit of an issue with authority figures. and this pissed off his superiors a lot, so after one particularly heated argument where D and ariel were trying to convince their boss to please let Orion go to a medic cus smoke is literally pouring out of him, D was shipped off to the gladiator ring. His frame was practically remade to twice its original size, and he was dropped off in the fighters barracks. he hated fighting but was unfortunately very good at it, and his fans nicknamed him “megatronus” which he later shortened to Megatron

aaaaaand last but not least, Ratchet! He was created a medic, loved being a medic, and was amazing at what he did. After an incident at the mine where our big three worked at, Ratchet was sent there to treat any wounded he could find.. whhiiich is where he found Orion! Orion wasn’t injured in the incident, but he was severely overheated at the time, and Ratchet saw this chronically ill little guy and immediately decided he just had to help him. Ratchet got permission to bring Orion back with him to run some tests, aaand it turned out that if orions temperature increased anymore he was literally going to explode and die! but ratchet was able to stabilize him 👍 yaaaay. after that, Ratchet would often be at the mines where orion stayed so he could do daily checkups on him and to keep him from going offline. and of course they became besties lol

as for society and governemntttt,,, the functionist system was very much in play (if you were created with a certain alt-mode, that dictates your entire life) i think the aligned continuity is closest to what im going for with.

tbh i dont have it super fleshed but i’ll be working on it 👍👍💥

[reallife6anoufriev6boy6]

furry!dylric hurt/comfort fanfic

includes lots of comfort and them as furries, plus eric being a nervous wreck.

note: eric is a nervous dog. literally. i also dont have any lyrics i apologize… this is a short thing i threw together bcuz i rlly wanted dog eric content

erics parents had found one of his less incriminating journals.

it led to an awkward conversation with lots of deflection, then a fight. he had called dylan to pick him up and let him stay the night. he was too much of a wreck to drive and he couldnt be stuck at home.

which is what brought him to where he was now, standing in dylans room while pacing back and forth.

his tail was tucked between his legs and he kept incessantly licking at his maw - beyond nervous. he never liked to show his nervousness, but now he couldnt shake the feeling.

“theyre gonna find out, theyre gonna find out, vee,” he kept repeating it “i’m so fucked - *we’re* so fucked.”

“dude, its gonna be okay. they found one of the “normal” ones, right? and you hid everything else again?” dylan was trying to reason with him to help him calm down, its usually what he did on these rare occasions.

“yeah, yeah i did,” he replies, but he cant help but think something will happen “fuck, fuck! theyre gonna find something, anything, i swear,” he barked, sharp and nervous “i dont know what to do, i dont-“

he cut off by the other grabbing onto him, pulling him into a tight hug and running his paws down his back soothingly.

“relax, reb, itll be fine,” he murmurs, keeping a steady hold on him “itll work out.”

eric stands frozen in place and its only just now that he realizes how he was panting and shaking - *trembling* from the anxiety. this was new, this was embarrassing.

“dylan, theyre gonna find it - it, something, anything, shit! i should’ve stayed - i shouldve-“ hes hushed by the other again, except this time a paw comes up to grab his snout, holding it shut like a muzzle.

sometimes the best course of action was to quite literally shut him up.

“they arent going to find anything. youve hidden it for this long, yeah?” that was true, but the doberman couldnt accept that. he was thinking too much too quickly - he couldnt think rationally.

his paws come up to the shepherds back, grabbing onto the fabric of his shirt and digging his claws in.

he didnt know how much he needed it, but it felt good to hold onto him. it felt good to be cared for.

dylan is soon easing him onto the ground, sitting on the floor with him pulled close. he hated seeing his friend like this - like a nervous wreck who couldnt control himself. it had never gotten this far though to the point of panic.

he lets go of his snout and wraps both arms around him again, careful yet tight. his paw continues to pet his back.

it was amazing how quickly and easily he could soothe him. he was still trembling and panting, but the lip licking had stopped and his tail was untucked.

it was so weak. it made eric feel weak, but he melts into the touch as his friend spoke.

“im here for you, reb. ive got you, ive got you.” his voice is soft, comforting. he really did have him - in a physical and metaphorical sense.

the doberman hadnt noticed it before, but there were tears pooling in his eyes. he blinks and they finally spill over, dampening his fur. this was the most vulnerable he had been in a long time.

the petting on his back seemed to calm him further. the panting stopped and his body relaxed the smallest bit, although he was still shaking.

under any other circumstances he wouldve never let this happen. he wouldve forced himself to calm down, he wouldnt have shown dylan this side of him. not this weak neediness he hated.

however the shepherd took to it warmly with open arms. this was his best friend and soon to be partner in crime. this display of vulnerability didnt make his view change.

eric lets out this little high pitched whine, not being able to bite it back. its like he finally accepts it, indulging in the sweet care.

he turns his body and nuzzles his head into his chest. it seemed like he had been replaced with a completely different person in that moment, but it was still him - it was all the broken, fragile pieces of what was called eric harris. not reb or any other fancy persona, just eric.

dylan gladly accepts eric into his chest, holding onto him tighter. he didnt care about the way he was holding onto him so tight that he could feel his claws in his back or how he was getting tears on him - none of it mattered. nothing mattered other then his friends needs.

“what if they find something?,” erics voice breaks through the silence, but its hoarse “then what?”

the other takes a moment to answer, replying thoughtfully“ill back you up,” it was true, he would stick by his side “ill agree with whatever story you come up with, eric, i promise. i wouldnt let you take the fall on your own.” if he was supposed to stick with him through a shooting, then he could stick with him through this.

“what if i have to tell the truth?”

“ill still have your back.”

its quiet again for a moment. theres so much devotion and loyalty that lingers in the air, thick and heavy, but not suffocating. instead comforting. he could tell just how serious he was.

the shaking stops, turning into short shakes that are spread out and only last a moment. his ears relax a little too, lifting from where they were pinned to his head.

eric needed so much from dylan. he needed the devotion and support, he needed *too* much of it. it would suffocate and crush anyone under the pressure of it. dylan wasnt good at committing and giving him the commitment he so desperately needed, but he could tell he would do it anyway.

he would risk everything right alongside him.

“do you promise?”

it feels so childish to ask. its like if he were a kid asking him to pinky promise over something small.

“yeah, i promise, eric.”

he does though. he promises him. its a promise he would be sure not to break.

thats all he needed, completely relaxing against him and taking in the warmth and comfort. he was so lucky to have someone like him. he didnt know what hed do without him.

his whole body felt so exhausted - he had a massive headache and his eyes felt so heavy. he sniffled, closing his eyes and letting himself rest against his friend.

he felt *safe.* he felt safe because he was in dylans arms, being cared for like he was some kind of angel. again, its a childish thought, but it feels like nothing can hurt him like this. as if his friend would be able to protect him from whatever was out there.

he hated himself for even thinking of that. he was supposed to protect himself - be strong and tough and not let anything get in his way.

however, sometimes a little protection from your best friend was all that you needed.

[myladysapphire]

My Lady Strong (IV)

Aemond had always been protective of his neice, obssessed even, insiting on keeping her sheltered, and purley his, he never let her stray far and following the incident at Driftmark, Aemma was rarley without Aemond as her shadow. How will the kind, sheltered girl fair in the dance of dragons?

word count: 1,495

CW: bullying, feelings of neglect and isolation

Fem!oc x Aemond Targeryen can be read as x reader)

Masterlist | series masterlist | previous part | next part

disclamer:  i do not own any of claim any of the A song of ice and  fire characters, all rights belong to GRR MARTIN, all characters are his except for my OC

It had been nearly a year since the events of Driftmark. Since her mother and brothers had left to Dragonstone. A year since her fathers death. And yet she already had a new father, one she did not like, alongside his two daughters. She had also gained a new brother. But she hadn’t met him, and she doubted she would meet him soon. As each day passed the distance between Dragonstone and the red keep seemed to get bigger and bigger.

“My dear?” she heard Alicent call out, having gotten closer the last year, Alicent had become more and more of a mother to her, and being her 9th nameday and her mother and brothers nowhere to be seen, to Aemma it had began to seem like Alicent was more of a mother to her than her own. A fact little 9 year old Aemma could not stomach to admit.

“Yes?” she asked, looking up from her spot in the library. She had found her time often spent alone as of late. Aemond having become more distant since the incident. And Heleana, well was Heleana, keeping to herself, though she had become more and more isolated since her wedding to Aegon last month. And Aegon spent most of his time at the bottom of a bottle in the depths of kingslanding. So she resided in herself spending days in the library by herself, in a spot that used to be her and Aemonds to just becoming hers. And the few spare moments Aemond seemed to give her were spent training Vaghar, or watching him train with ser criston. He no longer wanted to chase after each other in the godswoods, or read in the library. Or simply just existing in each others company. She understood, somewhat, he was becoming a man, a man hell bent on learning everything in him to defend himself, to learn to fight. Everyone was growing up, but her, and she was being left behind.

“My sweet girl, what's wrong?” Alicent questioned, rounding the corner to see Aemma in what she knew to be her spot. “Hmm? You seem to spend every moment alone, and I know many girls at court who would die for a moment of time spent with you.”

“What girls? Helena only ever wants to be by herself, and seems to ignore me every time i spend time with her, and the last set of girls you summoned just whispered rumours behind my back. I don't wish to spend time with them, i just want Aemond, and he doesn't want me.”

Sighing, Alicent moved down to her level, talking her hands in hers, “that's not true, Aemond still adores you, he is, well-... he's becoming a man and needs time to grow, and after the events of driftmark, well they changed him, just give him time.

“Time? Thats all ive done, it's been almost a year, and not even a moon had passed after driftamrk has he started to ice me out. He was supposed to marry me, and yet he's completely changed!”

“He's a boy, a twelve, Trust me sweetheart, he's just a silly boy who thinks he has to do all of these things to make up for his lack of eye. He thinks you will not love him, think him to be hideous, that is why.” Alicent responded, soothing Aemma, by stroking her hair.

“Well that's just plain stupid!”

“I know,sweet girl, but all boys are.” Alicent continued “ know, we have a birthday ball and feast to attend, and my gift is waiting for you.” she said standing up and inviting Aemma up with her.

In her chambers, laid out on her bed was a white dress embellished with gold. It had puffed sleeves that slimmed down to cover her arm. The dress was lkonger than her usual dresses, and more wide, though not by much. Glod was laced around the neck line, and out edges of the dress, with gold and silver jewels scattered across it, creatijng a pattern down the bodedice. The white itself seemed to shimmer, as if moonlight was bouncing off it. When she put it on she felt pretty. She felt beautiful. Her hair was tied up with a gold ribbon, decorated with pearls and butterflies. For this she knew the gift was not Alicent but Aemonds, or atleast he had some influence. Butterflies. The thing they always used to chase, and the thing ameond loved to compare her too. Butterflies. 

The feast was magnificent, lords and ladies from all over Westeros had come, and she had received more than enough gifts and attention though not from anyone that mattered to her. 

Aemodn was there from the start, though he stuck to eating rather than actually spending any time with her. His attention seemed to be elsewhere.

“Aemond?” she questioned, trying to capture his attention “Aemond, are you enjoying the feast?” he did not reply, looking down at his plate instead, avoiding eye contact. “Aemond?” she pushed again “Aemond!? By the gods answer me!”

“Hmm?” he hummed looking up, allowing her to see the book placed in his lap.

“Gods why wojnt you talk to me?” she asked, moveing to turn to him, her eyes filling with tears, “ for the last six moons i have been acting like a stay dog trying to get your attenion, and now even at a feast helped in my honoru, you brign-” she reached forward grabbing Aemonds book “- a book. A book? To my own party, instead of talking to me. Why?”

“Aemma, please-”

“No, tell me.!”

“Gods, you're a child!” he snactehd the book from her hand, “your just a silly little girl, can't you understand that, you could not defend me, and when you had the chance to you ran off to your pathetic mother, and then come crying to me for help, whilst i have just lost an eye to your bas-” he shook his head, a look of shame fillking his face as he sees her eyes filled with tears, “gods!” he sighed, dragging a hand down his face, reaching forward “Aemma- it's been a lot lately, i have had to relearn everything, to fit with the loss of my eye, and i, look im sorry, i just snapped. But you have to understand, i cnat be a child anylonger, being your friend, and litening to your childish escapades caused me to be in this situation. Now I have to be a man, I have to stop being a child.”

“So you have to stop being my freind, to go on your silly little- your, to be a man? What does that even mean?!” she cried, “it's my nameday, can you not just be my friend for today?” she was begging,it was almost pitiful. 

Aemonds face changed, snapping form the look of shame and regret to annoyance, to cold and still, a face evewryone would soon be familiar with, “ and why would i want to do that” he sneerd, dropping her hand, and standing up, before briskly leaving the room without a single glance back. 

The rest of her night was spent alone. With Heleana leaving not shortly after Aemond, followed by Aegon muttering something about doing his husbandly duty. Alicent and her grandsire had already left an hour in, the King's health failing him, and forcing many of the lords and ladies to leave, as if their only purpose was to talk to him and not her. So she was left all by herself bar a few older cousins that she did not know. 

But the remaining hours she was forced to stay, many lordlings asked her to dance, and it turns out Alicent had already summoned some more girls to King's Landing, arranging a meeting  witht them at her own ball. Taking her mind of the event sthat had happened prior, evne if for a few hours. For a few hours she wasnt so alone, for a few hours she was just a nine year old girl celebrating her name day, celebrating with her friends. People who over the next four years would become the only people she truly had.

And when she did finally retire to her rooms, and she was well and truly alone she cried, she knew no one would knock and have late night celebrations, just as no one had knocked at midnight to wish her a happy name day. Just as Aemond did not spend every second of the day with her, smuggling her all the food she wanted, and giving her a gift for every hour of the day. She spent it alone, and she would spend the next four namedays alone, crying. She would celebrate with her ladies, though it would never be the same, she owuld dance with strangers, and not ameond, where dresses gifted by people other than her mother and Aemond. Her family would become more distant and Aemond becomes less and less her Aemond.

next part

Taglist (bold means could not tag)

My lady strong: @aemondssiut@idonotknowenglish @sydneyyyya @wondergal2001 @whitejuliana1204 @meowtastick @bellaisasleep @tinykryptonitewerewolf @sarahkimtae @winchesterfamiliebusiness @iiamthehybrid @zzz000eee @spookydaddy01 @melllinaa @ateliefloresdaprimavera @aelora-a @aleemendoza2425-blog @chittakii @gghoulzz @ryiana @duckworthbean @cynic-spirit @may-machin @Gianinaa19 @wolfiealina @unique7676 @yentroucnagol @loserwithnofriends @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @urmomsbananabread @azaleapotterblack @delaynew

Hotd: @targaryenmoony @theanxietyqueen17 @flrboyd @zillahvathek @dark-night-sky-99 @apollonshootafar

Aemond: @blossomedflowerofluv @violet-potter

[blood-grove]

unnatural bleeding

merfolk au!

previous <- part 5 -> WIP

parings: gaz x reader

chars: gaz, price , soap , ghost

tws: blood, injuries, violence, past abuse, language, slow burn.

a/n: hehehhehehe finally new update :3 got rid of the rude reader tw cuz reader is gonna be annoyed at the world at best angry at worst plus i dont think ive been writing them rudely so also forgive me if the writing pov changes weirdly idk i have a hard time staying focused and consistent ill try better

tags; @chickennn-soupp @cassiecasluciluce @sans-chara @lethargicluv  @kaoyamamegami

What the hell was this place.

It seems all they did was stare at you and when you would clearly get sick of the mumbles and looks you'd splash them and they'd fucking laugh.

They were weird and the Gaz guy was weirder.

You found later his name was actually Kyle and he meant to clarify earlier.

But you found the silly nickname funny.

But this wasn't fun.

Being propped up on a large mat next to the side of the pool the leather felt uncomfortable under you, You also felt way too exposed as a few humans looked over your stitches and wrappings.

It felt weird there hands weren't rough but no one besides a few have touched you like this they were talking about something you'd care less to pay attention too.

As they examined you, Gaz kept trying to pull your attention away from the other humans.

Oh?

Was he jealous?.

Humans are so fickle it's funny.

-

Christ.

Even working with merfolk in the past Gaz still never got used to the bigger ones like you.

Scarface as you've been suitably nicknamed for the moment been alright and cooperative so far no biting or thrashing.

He'd likely guess the wounds were causing you to be so irritable they didn't look good when they first arrived problem had a couple of parasites on them along with other infections that are still being treated.

Price was observing the whole check up process.

You didn't speak much at least not to any of the other staff.

There were a few problems though.

Firstly they found you solo but there was still likely you belonged to a pod but which is the question.

Secondly, they couldn't keep you in the medical pool forever you were wild to some extent it would be cruel to keep you from you family.

Thirdly during your surgery, they'd found a piece of metal that didn't look important it was kept to be looked over in case it helped discover why you were in such a state, Price already guessed territorial fighting but you clearly (no offense) couldn't pick your battles.

Some of these scars and bites could have been lethal.

He was pulled out of his thoughts as you shifted clicking in annoyance he was quick to reach over for another fish from the bucket nearby by offering it up in an attempt to distract you.

"Are all humans this pokey?"

"No Scarface we just..need to make sure your healing okay..Then we can release you."

Kyle huffed as he gave you an honest smile ignoring the glare and grumble he received in return, You still took the fish though idly crunching on it.

They eventually finished the examination without much fuss except for you not so subtly tripping the newest volunteer who honestly should have been starting off with a much smaller mer than you.

But you start off somewhere.

Speaking of which it's about lunch time for them now and his break time, Kyle oversaw you getting back into the pool without much struggle before he left your area visiting by Price to mention he was going on his break before grabbing his lunch and heading to the docks.

He'd usually not have to wait long before they'd show but it'd seemed they were late.

It wasn't long till a familiar face popped up flashing teeth and all.

"Hey, Soap!" Kyle grinned as he looked to see the shark mer propping up his elbows onto the dock.

"Ghost comin'..?"

"Ah in a bit he's still getting his bearings.."

Now he was confused the last time he'd seen the pair and given them there updated shots and tags they'd been great.

The pair were unusual a Shark and Orca together seemed unheard of but yet just a few years ago now when Kyle had fallen overboard during an solo observation trip Ghost saved him from drowning.

Both of them were odd in a good way, Simon having been outcasted by his pod but he doesn't like to talk about it.

He had lots of scars all telling of countless battles of either for his territory or from just fights.

As for Soap, Sharks were solitary regardless but Soap had his own set of scars from fights some he shouldn't have tried starting.

"Bearings? What happended?.."

"Another fuckin' Orca smaller not as experienced grabbed me a few days back, Si really fucked em' up till the bastard clocked him on the head with there tail-"

Wait.

"Jesus , Where is he? I can get a team out and-"

"Ah ye know how he feels about humans..Plus he seemed to be swimming straight.."

"But Soap , He could have a concussion or maybe a facture-"

Soap sighed as he glanced back to the water before back at Kyle.

"Look..You can try convincing em'"

Soap frowned as Simon finally surfaced propping himself up onto the dock as well the wood creaking slightly under the weight of just Simons upper half.

"Ghost"

"Kyle."

Kyle huffed as he didnt even need to say anything as he went up to him giving him a look before he huffed grumbling quietly adjusting himself better so that Kyle could assess him.

Taking his time looking over the newer injuries they had healed well enough fishing out his little hand held flash light from his keychain in his pocket he checked Ghost's eyes.

After a bit of checking Kyle felt satisfied ignoring Ghost annoyed clicks.

"Mm..Now Soap you said it was another Orca right..? Did it come back?"

"Nah..Fucker swam off after bashing Ghost head..Pretty sure I could smell em' bleeding though for a bit till they got too far."

Right this was looking to be way too convenient and fitting to not match up with good ol' Scarface's condition.

"Mm..Alright..Anyway I brought some-"

"Treats?!" Before Kyle could even move his lunchbox away Soap had snatched it and Kyle let out a exasperated sigh not even fighting for it risk of being pulled into the water.

"Jesus Soap my lunch is still in there be careful- And dont eat the plastic!"

[sirensvcubus]

Daryl Dixon FanFic-Rough Hands

Relationship: Daryl x Reader

POV: First person

Where: Alexandria

When: First night

———————————————————————

For years I barley knew him, I respected him but he’s distant to everyone, I cant help but notice the scars on his back, and the fleeting look whenever family’s mention, for years Ive known Daryl but I know nothing about him nobody does. Daryls shy in a way, hiding his emotions and showing no sign of fear. I never thought to much about him. Until all I could do was think about him; Miss him and his touch, crave it even, but nobody could know… he couldn’t know. I had a school girl crush on Daryl Dixon.

I thought it would go away, just pent up energy in the apocalypse with no were to go, but it never did.

Life wasn’t about living but about surviving, Then we got to Alexandria.

Covered in blood and dirt we crawled are way into this surreal town frozen in the past, a past I barley knew.

Together on the cold hard floor of the living room huddled around like wild animals in a pack. That was the first night in Alexandria for our little group.

But not for me I chose to sleep next to him, where I felt most safe, especially in an unfamiliar place. I rolled on my side where I found you staring up at the ceiling not even trying to sleep.

He reeked covered in dirt and blood, his greasy long hair resting on his face covering those beautiful blue tired eyes.

He turned looking at me, the eye contact made me shutter in the dark.

“Like what you see” Daryl said.

“Always do” I smirked.

We always joked, but I never got to know him, which I desperately wanted.

“I don’t trust this, I want to but I’m scared”

“I’ll protect you, always do” He mimicked jokingly.

Wether it was sleep deprivation, dehydration, or a sudden boldness I felt covered by darkness; I reached out and laid my hand on his bicep.

“I feel safer when your around Daryl”

And I rested my eyes trying to look like id dazed off. I felt his arm twitch under my fingertips and after a few minutes past he rested his hand over mine.

His fingertips were rough and wide, yet I would take his touch over any smooth gentle hands.

I barley slept just laid there with my eyes closed feeling his arm, and his hand on mine. My thoughts raced all night. Maybe I could do far more than survive.

I woke up late in the afternoon, it felt like I hadn’t slept in months and truthfully I really hadn’t. Everyone was gone from the house as far as I could see. There was a pleasurable familiar feeling, which I deduced was the smell of a freshly brewed pot of coffee.

As I approached the kitchen I saw Daryl, showered and smelling of mint and sandalwood. His hair tucked behind his ears with the exception of a strand peeling over his eye like always, the one with the scar.

“Im sorry do I know you.” I said sarcastically.

“Whats that saying, early bird gets the worm? You would not be getting any worms today ma’am.” He said with an unfamiliar smile on his face, while holding out a cup of coffee.

His voice was rough and deep, with his withered accent. It was like hearing my favorite song play after years.

“Well I why would I need to when I have you to make me coffee.” I said, accepting the coffee with a warm smile.

We both sat on the living room floor leaning against the wall, sipping coffee glancing over at each-other; and occasionally making small talk.

You leaned your head up against the wall facing him. “Why do you always have this here?” I said wiping the strand of hair behind his ear.

He looked deep into my eyes glancing at my lips.

“Just how it falls I guess.” He mumbled with a shrug. “Who would wanna see my ugly ass face anyway.”

“Me, your face is beautiful, don’t even get me started on your eyes.” I smirked innocently.

“Don’t play with me girl.” His voice said in a deep grumble, looking away.

“Im not” I said sincere “not about this.” You said looking over at him as you pit your hand in his.

He slowly turned dazzling me with those dark blue eyes. He turned his hand with mine still on top of his and slid his fingers slowly between mine.

“Ok.” He said scanning my face, taking time to stop at my lips in his gaze.

He slid his other hand up my arm turning into me slowly as he made his way and stopped at my cheekbone pulling me in closer. I didn’t resist and ran my fingers through his hair shuffling onto him.

We kissed slow and passionately. Pulling my lip as he made his way carefully out of each kiss. It was warm and I felt a rush of excitement and joy. One kiss and already I was falling in love with him. He softly caressed my cheek with his rough hands and I could have died happily the next day as long as this was how I spent my last hours.