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runningfrom2am · 1 year ago

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leveling the playing field XII

summary: with nowhere else to go after getting caught cheating to help lucy gray, you both make some desperately stupid decisions.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 3.2k

tags/warnings: capitol brat!reader, maybe slightly ooc coryo, idk i tried my best. do they love each other or hate each other? who knows (we do, kind of). use of a derogatory term (pr*stitute) implications and mentions of abuse, so read with caution!! also a little bit of swearing but that's neither here nor there. oh, and manipulation (both of them lowkey)

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a/n: nothing much to say other than thank you guys and i hope you like it :)

series masterlist

"Coryo!" You grin, running out of the house and down the front porch steps, throwing your arms around his shoulders as soon as you can reach him. It had only been a few days since you'd seen him, but you had to do what you had to do. Truth be told, you did miss him, though.

He chuckles as he catches you, carefully letting you down after a moment. "Hey, Y/N/N, how's it going?"

"I'm good." You grin, turning back at the sound of people laughing inside the house. "You have to come in to meet Ash. He's gonna come with us today, and Lucy Gray is packing a picnic! It's gonna be so fun."

"Who?" Coriolanus asks, but you're already gone, heading back up to the house. An uneasy feeling settles in his gut as he follows you, shoving his hands into his pockets as he enters the home. The kids are trying to gather things into bags, and Lucy Gray is packing some food to bring with the group out to the meadow.

You, on the other hand, are wrapped around the arm of a boy who looks like he belongs in the Capitol Zoo. "Coryo, this is Ash. We met at the Hob the other night." You explain, looking between the two of them as Coriolanus clenches his jaw.

"Nice to meet you." He says through gritted teeth, reaching out out of habit to shake the boy's hand. He's got dark hair, and somehow darker eyes. Immediately, he doesn't trust him.

"You too, man. Love the peacekeeper getup." He chuckles, shaking his hand briefly and Coryo quickly recoils to wipe his hand on his pants.

"Oh, Coryo is a peacekeeper." You explain, smiling up at Ash as he drapes an arm around your waist.

"We're in the business of trusting those monsters now?" Ash asks, somehow maintaining a lighthearted tone. Like it was a joke, like Coriolanus was nothing more than his position.

"Only a couple." You laugh, shocking Coryo completely. Not so much as a word in his defense while this district trash said such horrible things about him. He was back to not even being able to recognize you. "Coryo is my best friend. We've known each other since we were kids. Sejanus too."

Best friend... That's it?

"That makes sense then." Ash nods, and Coryo stands up taller as Ash not so subtly sizes him up.

"You know, Sejanus has been awfully chummy with Billy Taupe and his friends. Ash is one of them." You say to Coryo quietly, taking up the rear of the Covey as all of you walk out to the meadow behind the house. "Have you noticed?"

He hums in acknowledgment, thinking it over. "It is odd." He agrees. He has noticed your mutual friend sneaking away on any nights out they could spare, and just generally being more cagey than usual. And it makes more sense that his name would mean anything to your new friend.

"Have you asked him about it?"

"No." He shakes his head. "You should, though. He trusts you more."

"That's not true." You laugh. "You are his best friend, after all."

"As are you." He raises an eyebrow at you.

"Oh, please. He throws that term around too loosely." You roll your eyes playfully.

"And you don't?" He asks, obviously referring to how you called him your best friend earlier. It's working. This was evidence that referring to him that way was driving him crazy- you had him wrapped around your finger, and you loved the feeling.

"Nope." You grin, bumping him with your shoulder. "Have I told you the haircut is really working for you? Because it is."

"Thank you. It wasn't by choice." He explains, smiling at the compliment but shrugging it off.

"I figured." You laugh, reaching up to run your hand over his shaved head. "I miss your curls, though..."

"Y/N! Come here!" Ash calls from up ahead, walking backward now as he waves for you to join him.

"Coming!" You call back, immediately ditching Coryo to catch up with him.

Coryo cringes at how his boots sink into the dirt and how you let Ash yell at you like that. Like you were a dog. You'd hardly known the guy for a few days and he's already talking down to you, Coryo is appalled at your taste. You run up to Ash, immediately reaching up and sticking your hand in his unbrushed hair. If Coryo was a brunette and didn't shower ever, that's probably what his hair would look like. It made him nauseous.

The following night, after Coriolanus complained endlessly to you about the birds he had to spend most of his days trapping, you had a stroke of absolute genius. He really, really hates those birds, just as much as you can tell he already hates Ash.

As the sun is setting over the field surrounding the hanging tree, you tell Lucy Gray you're going for a walk, and off you go into the woods with only your mind to keep you company.

They'd set so many traps it was unbelievable, and a good amount had trapped some of the songbirds inside. They were beautiful creatures, timid, too, for birds who were typically so vocal. They were products of the Capitol, so that would only make sense. You were careful not to make a sound as you opened every trap you could reach. You could just hope that by the time Coryo and his group arrived in the morning, they hadn't been trapped again.

You knew this was likely considered treason, interfering with government projects, but you didn't have a whole lot to lose, and seeing the frustration on Coryo's face when he ranted about how stubborn these birds were made the risk well worth it. It wasn't the revenge you were used to doling out to people who had wronged you, but you had been working on changing, after all.

After setting free no less than twenty birds that blew your hair back out of your face as they shot out of their cages, occasionally thanking you by singing your footsteps back to you or clawing at your arms, you made your way back to the street to head back to Lucy Gray's home.

You sucked your teeth over the stinging in your skin from the small cuts and scrapes that nnow littered your forearms. You suddenly understood why Coriolanus hated the creatures. They were beautiful singers, but clearly so inconsiderate. They'd be trapped again anyways, you were just delaying the inevitable to piss off your friend. They got scratches on you, but your people would still win the war.

You lift the excess fabric of your skirt to pat the beading and drying blood off of your arms as you walk. The town was quiet, only a few people scattered around very rarely. Either homeless or drunk, minding their business as you silently made your way down the dimly lit streets toward the seam. You recognize you're almost home when you pass the Hob, through the alley where Coriolanus graced you with his subpar apology. Squinting toward that same back exit as the door creaks open, you move across the alley to hug the opposite wall as you walk, trying to mind your business.

"Yeah, okay. I'll arrange for that. Thank you, yeah. We'll work it out. I promise." Was that... Sejanus? Your theory is confirmed when the speaker steps out into the alley. It was quiet, a weeknight. If the Hob had been open, it was deadly quiet by this hour.

"Sejanus?" You call out, speaking without thinking.

The boy jumps, slamming the door behind himself and looking toward you quickly. "Y/N? What are you doing here?" You can see the panic in his eyes as you get closer, tucking your bloody and exposed arms behind your back.

"Just out for a walk. I wanted to look at the stars." You nod up to the unpolluted and clear sky to accentuate your point. The sky didn't look like this at home. "What about you?"

"Oh! Uh, same." He lies. "It sure is beautiful out tonight."

"It is." You agree, looking up at the stars for a beat while you cross your arms over your chest in the silence. "Who were you talking to?"

As he panics you try and tuck your arms back once more, the stinging of movement reminding you of why you hid them in the first place. "Just, uh, no one. Myself."

You hum in response. Sejanus made his fake story hard to believe. "Why don't you trust me?" You ask, tilting your head at him. "I feel like after all we've been through, you should trust me more."

"I do trust you." He replies quickly. "It's less about that, more about... I don't want you to get involved. It's better for you."

"Is Coriolanus involved?"

"No. No, he doesn't know anything. Same as you."

You nod slightly, looking him up and down. "Well... If you need help or you're in a tough spot, come to us, okay? There are few people you can trust out here. We have to have each other's backs."

"No, no, it's not like that." He assures you. "But okay. If I need help, I'll ask."

You smile. "Well, you better get back. Don't want to get caught out so late."

"You too, Sage."

You chuckle, giving him a quick wave as you walk back away from him.

Even in the dim lighting, he could see the marks across your arm that you tucked away with your turn, sauntering away casually in the direction of your current home on the Seam.

Coriolanus was walking a beat alongside the market almost a week later, the one his bunkmate usually took, but today he was too hungover to crawl out of bed. Coryo didn't have the stomach to watch you drool all over that district boy today, so he decided to just take the shift for his new friend instead of bothering to see you. Maybe, this would result in Beanpole owing him a favour anyway, and that was always nice to have.

It was a Thursday, so not all that busy at the market. It was mostly just mother's gathering food and supplies, which left him incredibly bored for most of the morning. He was wallowing in his self-pity when something finally drew his attention. Your laugh. He would know it anywhere. He scans the street again, posture straight as he tries to track you down, which doesn't take long.

Of course, there you are with your new friend, his arm over your shoulder as you hold his hand against your chest. God, Coriolanus hopes you don't spot him. He looks straight ahead, chewing on the inside of his cheek and wishing he could disappear. You were torturing him, the fact that you couldn't see that, or you just didn't care, was driving him insane. It was worse than if you had just stayed in the Capitol.

Now, he can't help but focus on your voice on the mostly quiet street.

"No, I know!" You giggle, looking sideways at Coriolanus who stood at the edge of the street. You're sure by now he had seen you. You didn't know he would be here, normally he wouldn't, but it makes the task of agreeing to spend time with Ash more bearable. At least it was for a reason. "I've never touched a mandolin before, how could they expect me to pick it up in one night?"

"Well, I'd sure be surprised if you could. No one learns that fast." Ash replies, pressing a kiss to the side of your head. You hate it, you want to shove him off and hit him where it hurts, but you can't. At least Coryo was here to witness it.

"True." You nod, walking with him slowly past the stalls, browsing at some of the small trinkets and goods they had. It seemed to be all random things, which was foreign to you. Back home, every store had a purpose, even after the war the Capitol held onto this sophistication. "This is so pretty!" You smile, spinning out from under his arm to get a closer look at a dress someone had made. It was shorter than your skirt, typically one that would be worn by a child in this region, but it was oversized enough that you could wear it and it would land mid-thigh.

"How much is this?" You ask the woman sitting behind the wooden table, holding up the dress that she had clearly made.

"Forty." She answers, nodding to you. "It's steep, but I put a lot of work into it. It'll last your daughter a long time."

"Oh, no." You giggle, shaking your head. "I was thinking for me." You say, lifting part of the fabric to admire the stitches.

"For you?" Ash asks, raising an eyebrow at you.

"Yes, what do you think?" You reply, holding it up in front of you. "I like the red accents. It's beautifully made."

"You'll look like a damn prostitute," Ash replies without missing a beat. "That's what I think."

You bite your lip, face going red as you look down at it draped against your body. You're not sure if it's from anger or embarrassment. You sigh, folding it up again and turning to the woman who looks shocked. "I'll take it." You smile suddenly, placing it back down while you dig out some cash from your pocket, handing her fifty. "And don't worry about making change, I just hate carrying coins around."

"Thank you, dear. You enjoy." She smiles gratefully, taking the money and tucking it away in her pocket. You nod at her, and before you even turn around with the new dress under your arm you feel a firm grip on your skin, yanking you away from the stall and into a side street.

"Hey! Let me go!" You shout, trying to peel Ash's grip from your arm where it's digging in so tight it's already flushing the areas and opening your healed scratches from the birds, smearing the drops of blood across your skin.

"No, you listen to me." He says, dropping your arm in favour of pointing a finger right in your face as you're backed up against the wall. "If you're gonna be my girl, I'm not letting you walk around like some kind of whore. Do you understand?" He says, clearly fumingly angry by now.

You laugh, rolling your eyes. "You don't scare me, you're a district-born loser with no fucking job! How dare you try and tell me what to do with my-"

You're cut off when he smacks you. You take a shaky breath, instinctively holding the side of your face where his palm made contact. You feel your confidence faltering with the heat pulsing under your skin, and with your eyes closed in this back alley, suddenly you're back home. But you're not. You're not home, and he's not your father, and here, you're free. You're gonna kill him.

You open your eyes and stand up straighter, looking him dead on as your chest heaves with anger. You shove him back, pulling your arm back in his moment of shock to take a proper swing at him as he scrambles to push you back up against the wall. In your rage, you failed to account for the fact that he was much bigger than you.

"Hey! Back off her! Now!" Coriolanus shouts, clicking the safety off his gun before Ash can lay another hit on you, gun aimed unwaveringly at the boy as he quickly walks toward the two of you.

Ash panics, and you feel this as the forearm he had pressed up against your throat, pinning you to the wall loosened its hold and you shoved him off just in time for Coryo to push his way between the two of you, the barrel of his gun now inches from Ash's nose.

He raises his hands in surrender. "Hey, we're cool. I didn't do nothin' to her."

Coriolanus is fighting every urge to just pull the trigger on the loaded weapon in his hands. For you. For this asshole hurting you, for touching you, for the crime of even looking at you, he should do it. He breathes heavily, every muscle in his jaw constricted so tightly he's sure it'll ache for weeks.

You watch over your friend's shoulder, watching the gears turning in his head. Do it, you want to tell him, but even in your anger you can see that's irrational, so you keep your mouth shut.

Coryo sighs, lowering his weapon to use it to gesture to the street. "Get out of here." He mumbles, deciding to let him go. "And never so much as look at her again, understand?" You're almost a little disappointed as Ash spits on the ground at your feet, starting to walk away when Coryo turns the gun faster than you can process and jabs the butt end of it into Ash's face. A chilling crack echoes out against the crumbling walls surrounding you and he hits the ground, unconscious with an obviously broken nose.

Coryo is panting as he turns back to you, quickly throwing the gun back over his shoulder. "Are you okay?" He asks, reaching out and holding your shoulders, hands running down your arms quickly to look over the injuries. "Did he do this to you?" He looks over the scattered cuts and scratches. He could tell they were healing, and they were inconsistent with what could be done with a blade or a man-made weapon, so he deducts quickly that you must have fallen into the wrong bush or something. Maybe when you were gardening.

You shake your head quickly, eyes locked on the boy on the ground.

"Hey, no, look at me. Are you okay?" Coryo asks again, grabbing your chin and forcing you to look at him. He nods expectantly, waiting for you to answer.

"Yes. Fine." You whisper shamefully, giving a slight nod under his gentle hold.

"C'mere..." He mutters, pulling you closer to hug him. He sighs, holding the back of your head and gently smoothing down your hair. It shocks him when you start to shake, trying to muffle your crying in the fabric of his uniform. He shouldn't have waited so long. He took his eyes off you for less than a minute to maintain his own sanity, and this is what happened.

You knew you were safe with Coryo, this was your fault for straying from that over some petty anger. He had betrayed you, sure, but he told you it was because he only wanted to help. If you had listened, none of this would have happened. You should have known he was right. At least he hadn't abandoned you, he'd even saved you. You were lucky he was even around.

"He hit me." You sniff through sobs, gripping tightly onto the back of his grey uniform. "I didn't, I don't know why, I-"

"Hey, hey, hey..." Coryo shushes you, pressing his lips to the top of your head. "I've got you. You're safe now. I'm here."

"I'm sorry..." You sniff, overtaken by the foolishness of your own decisions. For denying your feelings for him in a way that only resulted in hurting the both of you.

Coryo has to fight back a smile as he takes in the familiar scent of your hair. "Don't be." He whispers, kissing your head. "I'll always protect you."

You nod against his chest, locking yourself firmly into his grasp. Even as your blood dried and stuck to his coldly grey uniform, you found it hard to let him go.

taglist: @totallynotkaibiased , @stelleduarte , @klplynn , @secretsicanthideanymore , @bejeweledreverie , @gloryekaterina , @andrewgarfieldsbitch , @queenofspades6 , @pepperonipastas , @ladybug0095 , @lunamothwrites , @sbrewer21 , @mus-tbe-a-weasley , @splxtscreen , @unclecrunkle , @karmaswitch , @coconut-dreamz , @nekee-lilac02 , @ooooglymoooogly , @riddlerloveb0t , @lovedbalances , @notyourwildestdream , @snowlandson-top , @too-lit-for-fanfic , @utopiakys , @deafeningballoonnacho , @roosterschanelslut , @chmpgneprblem , @cosmoetik , , @urvampgfsworld , @carolanns-world @nan-nie , @shakespearseclipse , @iovemoonyy , @notyoursweetheart-honey , @xyzstar , @eatpizzasass, @slytherinholland , @queenofshinigamis , @elodiebeau , @soulessjourney

i've closed my taglist for coryo now!! sorry to everyone who wanted to be added, but unfortunately there was significantly more demand than i expected and i sadly just can't tag everyone. BUT! if you still want notifications when i post for this fic, please turn on my post notifs!!

#tbosas #tbosas x reader #ballad of songbirds and snakes #thg series #tbosas fic #coriolanus x you #coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus fanfiction #the hunger games

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tnsophiaonly · 1 year ago

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HATED - SAGAU.

In which Self-Aware Genshin People loathe your existence and believe that you're the founding reason why they're not real.

Tired of this obsessive and lovesick creator or impostor SAGAU? Then what about this alternate? Be wary, it's dark and we'll mentions of torture something ig idk

Basically. This is impostor AU and the real creator who looks like you is horrible af. And you're an actual impasta.

Special mentions (♡): @sleepparalasis @haru-tofuu

Hatred. That's all they could feel when they see your face throughout the screen. Amusement. When they see your face wrinkle in pain and frustration when you get a standard character in through wishing or when you get the wrong stats in artifacts. After all, you were the one that made that right? You were the sole reason for your own pain, you made them in a fictional universe, where nothing is real. You're horrible for that and you should take the consequences of such.

That's why you're transported in this place, in which you thought the world was heaven before became your most terrorful nightmare. Hell, just like how it should be. Teyvat is hell. An upside down world, ruled by gods-demons and filled with darkness and pain. The world you created. Right? That's your fault. Your fault alone.

---

"Oh great heavens, that's cold..." you chatted out, freezing and shaking because of the cold. You face the wrath of the Cryo Archon's Nation. The home of the so-called organization, Fatui. Snow and ice were evident everywhere. And the cold, the cold was for sure affecting you. (Especially if you live in tropical areas or close to the equator? I feel so sorry for you)

Any bits of liquid that could be created were frozen within milliseconds. So you're sobbing just makes it worse, maybe if you actually used your feet and moved and found a place to heat yourself up instead of shining and sobbing, you could probably be in a great condition right now.

But you chose to cry. Pathetic really. And you expect this to be an impostor of me? The so great, almighty creator of The Genshin Universe? Absolutely not. I'd rather guide the Traveller to the absolute truth of this world at a fast pace than be, represented by you.

But fear not, I am sure I am able to at least give some potential to you... OFCOURSE I can do it. It's me after all.

But now i should really have this pathetic excuse of an impostor of mine to.. move and do something rather than cry and freeze to death. After all, I can't have my ungrateful people of Teyvat run after a very obvious impostor who's close to dying eh?

So, much to my dismay, I chose to give you guidance, see? Such a kind creator, you're a very lucky fella..

"ah-aaachoo-!" You sneezed, it feels like something just happened, but what? And why? Those questions are left unanswered. As you unconsciously started moving your freezing feet to walk and find some shelter to heat up.

Oh how the torturous snow storm causes you pain and despair. Why were you striving forward anyways? Your whole body aches. It hurts. Why. Why.

"You deserved it." The inner within of the core speaks.

You deserved it..? Why?

No one answers.

----

After walking away which felt like centuries, you finally are met with a bonfire, a large one in fact, the only problem was that it's within a fatui camp. Oh god...

"Well, well, well.. what's a worm like you doing here for?" A taunting and mocking tone says so to you. Oh my Lord, oh it just couldn't get worse thab this, bits of electricity shocked you slowly, you were feeling the wrath of The Balladeer, the 6th Fatui Harbinger. You could only stay in your spot as you feel electro build up within you, hurting you, killing you.

You're sweating bullets of fear just turns to ice because of the environment, it was no use to run.

"Well well comrade, what's with the guest? I didn't know you were quite the welcomer!" A mocking and sarcastic voice taunted the hat guy, which earned him a glare for, the ginger bread- hair man had a boyish charm and looks, almost looking innocent if you didn't know better. Well guess it got worse.

The ginger head guy's eyes widen, as his taunting smile quickly turns into a frown. The mocking gaze turns into a face of anger, annoyance.

"Is that..." he muttered, bewildered and angry. The ginger guy quickly launched unto you, with bloodlust and wrath causing you to flinch, that's before the entire electricity builds up within you and completely shocked you to oblivion, and the ginger's defense mechanism, of course he backed down.

The electro flowing within you caused so much pain, overbearing pain, yet you did not scream. You did not scream in pain. That one thing The Balladeer was hoping for. Maybe the shock was too strong you couldn't scream at all? Yeah, that's it..

The electro shock died down, and you passed out on the spot. Yet you were still not dead. Despite the fact that electro burns were evident, and that you were crisped to the spot, you're still alive. How lucky, or should I say unlucky?

The ginger- you know what I'm tired of calling him ginger, it's Childe. Childe went close to your passed out body. Caressing your electro-burned hand, before gripping it.

A bone crack was heard, oh did he crack it too hard? No worries, he doesn't care. The fatui skirmishers walked close to the place "We'll take care of it Lord Tartaglia." The pyro agent spoke.

"No." The Balladeer protested, as he grabbed a fistful of your hair and forced your head to look at him, ofcourse you're still passed out, and you had an expression of sorrow, The Balladeer could just smirk. It's the creator.

"I could make use of our Grace after all..." He spoke sinisterly. The agents were on the edge and so was Childe, it really was the creator, they were so close to jumping and killing you on the spot if it weren't for the fact that The Balladeer was there.

-----

The sound of chains vibrated throughout the dungeon, sweet little breaths and movements.

You looked around, it was pitch black and only one candle was the source of light, which was out of reach for you.

A swarming and overwhelming feeling of cold and warm was brushed against you, the electro infused chains hurt when you try to make even the slightest movement, why were you here? Don't act stupid, you're aware why.

You could partly hear the conversation outside. It sounded a lot like the fatui agents earlier, it seems they were discussing either transporting you or guarding you still.

Your breath hitches—which echoed in the room— when they mentioned Il Dottore. They're not planning on giving you to him right...?

You could feel yourself sweating bullets, your eyes showed fear as your expression scrunches into fear. There's a 50/50 chance, but you've always lost your 50-50!

The door opens, and someone steps inside, a blue haired fellow, walking slowly and causing an intense atmosphere. You could feel yourself shaken, not because of him, but because everything feels colder. At least that's what's on your mind.

The blue haired fellow caressed your chin. And forcibly made you look at him.

"My, what a wondrous pet The Balladeer has taken upon."

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httpskuzuu · 1 year ago

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Please, Fedya

idk why, but I'm very embarrassed to publish this

Yandere!Fyodor x Reader

English is not my mother tongue, sorry for the mistakes.

tw: kidnapping, yandere, mention of: broken bones, abuse, isolation, bad mental health, punishment and escape attempt (nothing explicit really), stockholm syndrome, fyodor is a general tw

Your life with Fyodor had been good, as good as a life with a kidnapper could be, but you would never admit that out loud, it would be too hard a blow to your dignity.

At first everything was hell, Fyodor was the definition of cruel, it took you months to be able to get out of the 4 walls where he locked you up, in complete darkness. It screwed up your eyesight, your sleep and your overall health, physical and mental. He at least fixed those problems, paid for your eye surgery, gave you vitamin D supplements, helped you by fixing your sleep schedule, etc.

It wasn't so bad, except that not all the issues could be fixed, your mental health was horrible, it still is, you doubted he could fix that.

Before you had all that help Fyodor gave you, you had to change your behavior, you were always a fighter and with Fyodor it would be no exception. The turning point of your behavior was the night you tried to escape. He caught you, as punishment he broke both your legs and your fingers, he also left you in complete isolation, you don't know for how long. Since that punishment, you never disobeyed Fyodor again, not intentionally at least.

As time went by, and when he saw that your meek behavior was not a lie, he began to give you more liberties. One of the most important for you was the freedom to go outside, obviously accompanied by Fyodor.

Also, with that freedom to go out, you realized that Fyodor liked to treat you like a doll. Every time he allowed you to go out he was the one who dressed you, you had no voice or vote in that.

On those outings, you realized that the place you were in was Russia, you didn't know specifically which part. Before arriving in Russia, you had never seen snow in person, so it was beautiful the first time.

Today was one of those days that Fyodor allowed you to go out.

He dressed you in warm clothes and took you to a coffee shop. It was nicer than you thought it would be, not only because you went outside, but because your talks with Fyodor were pleasant.

By the time you left the coffee shop, it was getting dark, but you convinced Fyodor to go to a local bookstore and buy some books. It wasn't for you to read it (you didn't understand Russian and Fyodor had never tried to teach you so you couldn't communicate with others), it was for Fyodor to read it to you, it was an activity that, surprisingly, you enjoyed very much. You left the bookstore with a book of poems whose cover caught your attention.

Walking on your way home you heard high-pitched meowing coming from an alley, you stopped your steps and, consequently, to Fyodor, who was holding your hand.

"What is it, милый?"

"I heard meowing." Your gaze did not move from the alley.

You let go of Fyodor's hand and headed down the alley, Fyodor followed you closely until you reached a cardboard box lying on the ground.

You bent down and opened the box to find an orange furred cat, it was about the size of your hand and very thin. You wondered what kind of horrible person had abandoned such a cat.

You petted it and the cat reacted affectionately, rubbing its head against your hand. You laughed at the action and turned your head to see Fyodor standing behind you, still standing. "Please, Fedya, let's keep him."

Fyodor wasn't a big fan of cats, or animals in general, it wasn't that he hated them, but he preferred not to have pets. But there you were, begging him for an abandoned cat, and, well, you were being on excellent behavior, so he needed to give you a reward, right?

"Okay, but you'll be the one to take care of it." You nodded quickly as you grabbed the cat, pulled him against your chest, and covered him up as best you could with your coat.

The two of you walked out of the alley, you were petting the cat's little head as you smiled. Fyodor just looked at you, appreciating how cute you looked when you were happy. He thought that, perhaps, he could do more things to see that smile of yours more often.

#bsd x reader #bsd x you #bsd fyodor #fyodor #fyodor x reader #fyodor x y/n #fyodor x you #yandere fyodor #yandere #yandere bsd #yandere bungou stray dogs #bsd #bungou stray dogs #fyodor dostoyevsky bsd

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thisgirlnamedblusy · 4 months ago

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Hi First i really apreciate and Love your Work, it's often make my day,thanx for this.keep going.Now to my request can you write Something with Donna and blind Reader Like First Meeting Fell in Love First kiss First time what ever you want and be comfortable with i know i will Love everything what you do about it.sending hugs🤗.

Yesss!!!! Thank you for your words!!! Hugs to you too!!! Thank you for the request!!! I hope you like it and sorry about the language mistakes!!! :)))

A light in your darkness

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem, Blind! Reader

Warnings: Fluff, blindness, smut implied, angst, maybe? Idk

Word count: 7,324

Summary: You have nothing to lose, but someone to love...

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

The fire was like a glow, like a sign of death burning around you. The smoke was intoxicating. The sound of the wood giving way to the flames was all you could hear apart from your screams.

Panic had your senses kidnapped. You couldn't know where you were, the infernal glow of the fire burned the darkness you could see, there was no way out.

A small cabin somewhere in the mountains, that was your home, your little world away from society, from a village where you knew there was no place for you.

A terrible illness took away your sight, forced you to live in darkness and dark images, blurred shadows that seemed to constantly haunt you. After that, with the fear of the village divinities considering you a useless villager, not good enough to be another link in its chain, your parents took you to that remote place.

But their death made things worse. You weren't useless, you could, more or less, take care of yourself on that mountain. Your life was quiet, peaceful, like a hermit, like a blind witch who lived on the fringes of society.

Praying to the Black Gods, helped by some of your old friends, you were able to survive, to subsist so as not to see the light of the sun one more day, so the darkness would indicate you had not succumbed to despair.

But, one night, sleeping, dreaming of a better life, an intense aroma, a horrible cough and a scorching heat forced you to stand up.

Panicked, you searched with your damaged eyes for some place that was not illuminated by those flames, a dark place, to take refuge. Dodging the parts of the cabin that seemed to want to finish you off, you managed to run towards that icy darkness, towards the outside of the cabin.

You didn't even bother to scream, you knew that no one would hear you. You could only run, run and not look back, not let the flames be a blurry dance in your darkness.

You panted desperately, walking through the thick snow, trying to lean on what you thought were trees, walking away from the tempting heat of that fire. There was no way out. On one side, a horrible death, consumed by the fire, on the other, your already well-known darkness, hunger, the dangers of the forest.

You stumbled in the snow, you continued to flee towards the unknown, you cried, you screamed. There was nothing, no one, just you, just that stupid blind girl who had met her end just the way she lived, alone.

Exhausted from the escape, with the snow making it harder for you, you slowed down, wondering if maybe it was better to let yourself fall, let yourself freeze, give up. But a part of you never considered giving up as an option. With a furious growl, you kept walking.

This was definitely not your night. The emptiness your foot felt when it returned to the ground was too abrupt. The balance you had left didn't know how to react to the lack of snow under your steps. Something, a cruel force pushed you towards the abyss, to the bottom of a small cliff.

“Ah!” you screamed as you fell, as you understood that this was your end.

The rocks dug into your body, cradling you in a sinister way as you rushed towards your end, one that never came.

You fell back into the snow, with a dull thud, with a horrible, stabbing pain in your arm. The pain was a good sign, you had survived. The cold snow muffled your pain and a strange calm invaded your senses.

All around you was nothing, just darkness.

You crawled along the ground, accompanied by the strange sound of a distant waterfall. For some reason that seemed familiar to you, but you didn't pay attention to it. You couldn't see anything, you didn't know if maybe you were on the edge of another cliff. You missed the blurry light of the flames.

“Help…” you murmured, trying to stand up, desperate, supporting your hands on the rock wall. Your whole body hurt, you could barely walk, you stumbled, fell, and you couldn't get up.

“Hey, you!” a shrill voice reached your ears. You turned around, but in vain. The darkness of the night was not exactly your best ally.

“Is anyone there? Hey, help!” you said, hoping that the voice was real, that your subconscious wasn't easing your conscience so you could die in peace.

“Help? You fool!” the voice sounded again and you, desperate to know where it came from, stretched out your arms. Nothing.

You could hear small steps in the snow, like a child's steps and behind them, firmer, subtler, almost silent ones.

“There you are, you little thief!” that voice shouted again, getting closer, followed by those quiet steps, those footsteps that got even closer.

“What? I’m, I'm not a thief,” you muttered, stretching out your arm to steady yourself, to stand up again, something you didn't manage to do.

“What have you come here to do, stupid?” that childish voice asked.

You shook your head, breathing with difficulty. That girl certainly had a bad temper.

“Hey, but, little girl, I didn't... I didn't come to steal... My house was on fire and I, I fell,” you explained slowly, with a broken voice but sure that you were telling the truth.

“Of course, and I guess I have to believe you right?!” that strange girl shrieked. She seemed to walk from side to side.

“It's the truth!” you shouted desperately, trying to reason with that distrustful little girl. “No, I didn't want to bother you, it was just an accident.”

“Accident? Don't continue or I'll burst out laughing,” the girl mocked, with a macabre laugh. “Come on, kill her, kill her.”

“No, no please!” you shouted again, letting yourself fall to the ground, joining your hands to ask for mercy. “I'm not a thief!”

“But you are stupid, clumsy and a moron,” the girl insulted you, making your hopes fade more and more. You crawled back on the ground, looking for a way to escape. The only thing you found was a cloth, a dress that quickly moved aside when you made contact with it. It didn't look like that girl. It looked like an adult’s dress, your hope.

“Take your dirty girl hands off! Don't you know who you're talking to?” the little girl scolded you.

You, nervous, couldn't do anything but shake your head, your eyes full of tears.

“N, no… I, I don’t,” you whispered with a tired, sad, defeated sigh.

“You don’t? Damn, stupid, are you blind?” the girl asked with an incredulous, mocking tone.

You, sighing again, sitting in the snow, nodded.

“Actually, I am,” you said quietly, closing your useless eyes.

Silence was the answer, along with subtle sounds and breezes indicating that someone was moving in an exaggerated way.

“Oh, are you?” that shrill voice asked, which seemed more mocking than before. “Can't you see anything?”

You shook your head, bringing your knees to your chest, letting the tears slide down your cheeks.

“Who are you?” a different voice asked, darker, hoarse, almost melodic, which made you raise your head with a mix of relief and terror. It was probably the owner of that dress.

“My, my name is (Y/N),” you stammered, relieved to be able to talk to an adult woman and not to a rude child.

“(Y/N)…” that feminine voice sighed, soft but somehow threatening. You didn't know why, but a shiver ran through your spine. “What are you doing here?”

“I, I've said it, I... My, my house was on fire, I tried to run away and... I fell, I fell off a cliff, or so I think,” you explained calmly, looking with your eyes for that bright reflection of the flames that you could no longer see.

“I told you it smelled like something was burning!” the girl exclaimed, jumping in the snow.

“Mm,” the woman murmured with disinterest. “What's a blind girl doing living alone? You must understand that I find it suspicious,” the woman in the dress said, with a darkness similar to your gaze.

You shrugged, thinking that, really, you had just lost everything.

“My, my parents died years ago,” you said in a whisper, turning your head away from the source of the sound, focusing on that calming waterfall. “I, I've managed things well until now but... The, the fire...”

“Bah, what a loser!” the girl shrieked.

You frowned. That kid definitely needed manners.

“No, I didn’t mean to be annoying…” you said, awkwardly standing up, holding your injured arm, ready to get away from that dangerous situation.

A strong grip made you hiss in pain, a hand grabbed your arm, burning it with its touch.

“You’re hurt,” that dark voice murmured.

“I, I don’t know, it hurts,” you said, removing your grip.

“Oh, no…” the girl sighed in a comical voice.

“Don’t really know who I am?” the woman asked, holding you in place with her grip.

You shook your head, stopping fighting the burning grip in your arm.

“No, but…If, if you help me, I guess you will be my savior,” you said in a sweet, desperate voice. “I don't want to cause any trouble, I just, I just want...”

“Come here,” that mysterious voice said, pulling you along, dragging you through the snow until your feet collided with something hard, it seemed like wood.

The creaking of a door, and the pleasant warmth coming from inside told you that you were in a house. The smell of humidity was strong, like a closet that had been closed for years. You could see lights, blurry shadows, a black figure that you couldn't make out, now pulling you along; next to it, another smaller blurry spot, the ill-mannered girl.

“Sit down,” the melodic voice ordered you, releasing you abruptly. Your legs collided with a piece of furniture that looked like a sofa and you obeyed.

The pain returned to your arm when a gentle hand lifted the sleeve of your dress. You protested, but she was stronger, she seemed to be searching for something. You couldn't tell, you could never know.

“It's nothing serious, but it needs to be healed,” that woman murmured, putting something on your wound, something that burned like the fire that destroyed your house.

“Yiahhh!” you yelled at that horrible pain, earning a mocking laugh from the evil girl.

“Silly, silly,” the little girl mocked, climbing onto the couch next to you.

From the size of that blurry spot, it was definitely a girl.

Silence fell over you again. The smell of humidity penetrated your brain, the warmth of what seemed like a fireplace soothed the cold. You didn't want to say anything. You simply stayed quiet, enduring the sting of your wound, trying not to give that girl more reasons to laugh at you.

“Thank you,” you sighed when you noticed how the bandages covered your arm.

There was no answer, just a strange sigh.

“You say your house has caught fire,” the dark woman murmured, moving away from you. A lavender scent eclipsed the humid atmosphere of that place.

“Yes,” you answered, moving your arm, which barely hurt anymore. “I woke up in the middle of the night and… I could only make out the flames, and the smoke. I ran out of the cabin, but, but I tripped and… I fell, I fell here.”

“You are not from the village,” she commented, with a distrustful tone.

“No, well yes, well, I was,” you said embarrassed, lamenting your condition.

“Explain yourself,” the woman demanded, with an impatient tone.

“And don't dare to lie, you fool, or we'll know!” the girl shrieked.

“What would I win by lying?” you protested, more and more annoyed by that attitude. From the little movement you saw, you sensed that the little demon shrugged. “No, I… My, my family took me out of the village when I lost my sight. They thought, they thought that by not being useful, maybe I would be repudiated by the Black Gods and Mother Miranda.”

“They thought so?” the woman asked, with an almost amused tone, or so you thought. “Sciocchezze.”

“So, sorry, what?” you asked, confused. That strange word made you stir, as if there was something that was screaming to be heard.

The woman cleared her throat and sighed again.

“Nonsense,” she explained with a tired voice. “Mother Miranda would not despise anyone for that, your family was stupid.”

“Don’t, don't insult my family,” you hissed, clenching your fists, offended by those words.

“Oh, are you threatening us?” the girl mocked, too close to you. “Stop playing savior angels and kill her, D…”

You didn't know why, but that stupid girl shut up instantly, maybe because of the sudden movement you could feel in the woman.

“Mm, it's late for a girl like you to walk around here alone,” she murmured, seemingly unfazed by your threat. “You can stay tonight.”

“What?! You must be joking,” the girl complained.

“Can I?” you asked incredulously. “I… Thank you, thank you very much.”

“Get up, I'll take you to your room,” she ordered you in a cold voice. You, defenseless again, reached out your hand, looking for help, a point of support to be able to stand up safely.

A passive hand picked you up, pulling you to your feet, perhaps too hard, causing you to collide with that mysterious woman who smelled like lavender.

“I’m sorry,” you apologized. She growled annoyed and walked away from you.

You, lost and scared, reached for her hold, her arm, something she rejected, scared, annoyed by the contact.

“Lasciami!” she demanded, shaking from your grip. You sobbed in confusion.

“I’m sorry, it’s just that…I, I don’t know this place and…” you said in a weak voice, broken by feeling that useless. “I need someone to guide me.”

The woman sighed unpleasantly and took your hand again, putting it on her arm.

“Ugh, it’s okay,” she hissed annoyed, walking with you, slowly.

Without speaking, you climbed up some stairs, helped by the lavender woman, until, after opening a door, she let you go near what looked like a bed.

“Hey,” you said, when the sound of heels told you that the woman was moving away again. “I would like to know your name, so I can thank you.”

There was no answer, just a murmur that, you were sure, was not directed at you.

“Aye,” the girl said, comically.

Small steps on the wood approached you. You trembled knowing that this sinister girl was approaching, but when the door closed and the sound of heels disappeared, you sensed that perhaps you fear had betrayed you.

The dim light that illuminated the room was not enough to distinguish shadows around you and, knowing that you were alone, you lay down on that bed, with your hands running around your surroundings until they touched something cold.

“What?” you asked, puzzled by that object, which you ran your hands over. Wooden arms, legs, a porcelain face… “A doll?” you asked when you guessed what you had in your hands, leaving that strange puppet on the side of the bed.

The tiredness was overwhelming, but the loss of everything you had was even more so, forcing you to curl up on yourself and let your tears soak the sheets.

“Gods, what am I going to do now?”

Luckily, at least you were able to sleep, even if it was in the middle of a heartbreaking cry.

The morning light was already distinguishable, and, clumsily, you got up, resting your hand on the walls. Strangely, you didn't notice the doll that was there the day before. You didn't give it any importance.

After juggling to get to the bathroom, you leaned on the railing of the stairs, confused, afraid to go down them without help.

“Hello? I, I need some help!” you asked the void, walking along the wood until you reached the first step.

“She spent the whole night crying. She’s a pain in the ass, she’s a… Oh, silly girl, you woke up!” the girl shrieked, who seemed to be talking to someone downstairs.

“Hey, uh, little girl, help me down the stairs, please,” you asked, rolling your eyes, hoping that the mysterious woman would appear.

“Okay,” she said in a comical voice, approaching you, or so you thought from her steps. “Let’s see, silly girl, one… Two…”

With her help and leaning on the railing all the time, you went down the dangerous steps one by one, trusting someone you knew you shouldn’t trust.

“Okay, okay, that’s it, you can walk normally,” the girl said.

You sighed and nodded, taking the first step, one that made you stumble and fall resoundingly to the ground. There were still stairs to go.

“Oh, damn girl,” you lamented in pain, with your ears being harassed by the cruel laughter of the stupid girl.

“Angie!” the woman's voice interrupted that tasteless joke and her heels approached you hastily.

Angie. You didn't know why, but that name sounded familiar to you.

“Uh...” you complained, letting that woman who smelled of lavender lift you off the floor carefully.

“Are you okay?” she asked, grabbing your shoulders and shaking your dress.

“I, I guess…” you said, wincing in pain. “That daughter of yours is quite the joker, isn't she?” you asked.

“Daughter?” the woman asked, confused.

Another loud laugh sounded in that strange house. It seemed that the girl was lying on the floor, kicking and hitting it with her fists, as if she had had a cruel fit of laughter.

“Daughter, she says! Don't keep talking, stop. I'm going to have a heart attack! Daughter!” the girl mocked, making you snort.

“She's not my daughter, (Y/N),” the woman said, guiding you with her arm through the house while an increasingly intense aroma of coffee made you forget that incident.

“Oh, I... I, I didn't know,” you apologized, letting her sit you on a chair and bring you closer to a table, where the aroma of coffee was much more intoxicating.

“I'm sure you're hungry,” she murmured, handing you a steaming cup of coffee that you carefully took. “Take whatever you want.”

“I... Thanks,” you sighed, touching the table, finding a whole feast of toast, oil and buns, which you devoured eagerly.

Silence was your company again, silence and darkness, the duo that guided your life.

“What are you going to do now? Your house is destroyed,” she commented, breaking the calm with an exasperating truth.

“I, I don't know,” you sighed, wanting to cry again. “I, I guess... I don't know.”

“You don't know,” she repeated, with a disinterested voice.

“Well, you should know, stupid! This isn't a hotel!” the girl shrieked, jumping on the wooden floor.

“Angie, basta!” the woman shouted, severely. You raised your eyebrows again, blinking in confusion.

“Basta?” you asked in a small voice.

The woman sighed in annoyance, putting her cup down on the table with a loud bang.

“I wasn’t talking to you,” she said coldly. “But I want you to answer me, what are you going to do now?”

“I already said I… I don’t know,” you said through clenched teeth, furious at that girl, at the discomfort you were starting to feel. “I have nowhere to go.”

“I see,” the woman whispered.

“She doesn’t!” the girl mocked, eliciting an angry growl from the lavender woman, who stood up from her chair, dragging it along in an unpleasant manner.

“Angie! If you keep going like that I swear I'll deactivate you,” she hissed, making you shift in your chair, confused.

“Deactivate?” you asked in a voice so low that she didn't hear.

“Oh, come on, Donna, I'm just kidding,” the girl complained. “You have to laugh at yourself.”

“D, Donna?” you asked again, with the cup shaking in your hand.

Donna. That name made everything in your head make sense. You had been away from the village for a long time, but you remembered it, you remembered Mother Miranda, the Lords, you remembered their figures, their faces before you lost your sight. Alcina Dimitrescu, Salvatore Moreau, Karl Heisenberg and… Donna Beneviento.

Donna Beneviento, dark woman, doll maker, nightmare creator, mentally disturbed, owner of the living doll… Yes, you remembered, you remembered the name of that doll, Angie.

“Gods…” you said agitatedly, falling from the chair, kneeling on the floor, finally knowing who you were talking to, who you had upset. The waterfall, the musty smell, that black figure, that accent, those words. There was no doubt. “Gods, I… Please, please have mercy on me, Lady Beneviento. I didn't know that I had fallen into… I, I didn't know who…”

“Shut up,” the lady ordered you, in a stern tone, as if she were upset because you had discovered her identity.

“I, I shouldn't have bothered you… I, I'll leave right away,” you said, crawling on the floor, terribly scared, getting up and running towards the unknown.

“Watch your step, stupid!” Angie squealed mockingly, just before you tripped on a rug and fell to the floor again, on your injured arm.

The heels walked slowly, Lady Beneviento was approaching you again.

“Get up,” she ordered, bending down and roughly grabbing you by the shoulders, making you stagger. “Stop fooling around.”

“Fooling around? I, I… I didn’t know that…” you stammered with your dress being shaken again, your nerves blurring your almost non-existent vision even more. “I, I’m sorry I… I’ll, I’ll go and…”

“I said shut up… Idiota…” the lady hissed, grabbing your arm tightly. “You want to run away, huh? Do I scare you?”

“No, yes, I…” you stammered unable to speak clearly.

“You said I was your savior,” she snapped at you in a dark voice. “Has your mind changed because you know who I am?”

“No, I…” you murmured again, panic running through your body.

“So…” she growled, pushing you unpleasantly, your body threatening to fall again. “Sit down and eat your breakfast!”

“Hey, hey, Donna, aren't you going too far?” Angie intervened, guiding you surprisingly carefully towards the table.

“It's always the same, Angie!” the lady shrieked, stamping her feet angrily. “What I do doesn't matter! Even this blind girl is unable to stop looking me as… As a monster…” she sighed with a sob, a terrible one that stirred you as you fixed your useless gaze below.

“I, I can't see if you're a monster or not,” you whispered, trying to calm her erratic attitude, one you'd heard about before. “And even if I could, I don't think any monster would have saved my life.”

She came quickly, putting a hand on your shoulder.

“That's what everyone says and then... Then they run away in terror...” she whispered threateningly in your ear, squeezing your shoulders, digging her nails into your skin. “Leaving me alone again!”

“I’m, I'm not going to run away, it, it just surprised me,” you said calmer, regretting your attitude. “I... I'm alone too, you know?”

“You...” Donna growled, letting you go with a furious gasp, muttering something you didn't understand.

“I, I don't know what, what could have happened to you for, for someone like you to be alone but...” you murmured, letting the tears of terror stain your face.

“Someone like me? What do you mean?” she asked in a different tone.

The Angie doll climbed onto your lap, as if she was now the one protecting you.

“You're a Lord, I, I remember you from when I was little and we went to church,” you commented, with Angie comically feeding you. You pushed her away so you could continue talking. “You always wore black… You were always, always silent. I know it may seem silly but… You, you were my favorite.”

“Your favorite? What the hell are you talking about?” she asked furiously, nervous about not understanding your meaningless words.

“My friends and I used to play at being the Lords of the village,” you said with a smile, remembering much better times, when you saw something else than blurry shadows. “I always wanted to be you.”

“Yeah! Donna's the best!” Angie sang, lowering herself to the floor again. “Hey, hey Donna, easy…”

“I, I liked the way you were, always quiet, silent, observant… I, I don't know, I guess you were the one I identified with the most,” you explained, with your head down. “You, you don't seem like the others, you're different.”

“You're wrong, you're very wrong, (Y/N),” Donna whispered, sitting back down, hitting the table with her fist.

“Would your siblings have saved me?” you asked, in a risky question. After all, you realized that you had nothing to lose.

She answered with silence, with a strange sigh.

“I know, I know, I know, choose me, I know the answer! Ask me, silly, ask it to me!” the doll squealed, comically pulling at your dress. You couldn't help but smile. “They would have let you freeze!”

“That doesn't mean anything,” the doll maker murmured, with the same cold voice.

“It means you saved me,” you answered, with your lower lip trembling. “No matter what you think, I… I will always be grateful to you, and… Well, I guess my life is already ruined, so I have nothing to lose by saying this but… Maybe, if I could stay with you, I…Nei, neither of us would have to be alone again.”

“Do you… Do you want to stay with me? You?” she asked, startled again. “You are more daring than I thought.”

“I simply have nothing to lose,” you sighed, closing your eyes, hoping that a darkness different than the one you could see would be your end, that the memories would remain in your mind before you died of terror, before she finished you off.

The sound of the chair disturbed you again, along with the slow walk of those heels, along with that lavender scent that was getting closer, as well as soft hands that lifted your chin.

“I don't scare you,” she whispered, standing too close to you. You shook your head. “You ran away as soon as you found out who I was. You're full of contractions.”

“I was surprised, that's all,” you said, gently moving your head so her hand would move away from you and stop making you nervous. “I know you're going to say no, and that you'll finish me off right now. After all, I'm useless.”

“Are you a fortune teller?” -she asked in a mocking tone, walking away from you again.

“I was never good at being a clairvoyant,” you joked easily, letting a way of being that you had and never brought to light speak for you in the last moments of your life.

Surprisingly, a soft laugh came from the lady, a charming laugh that made you gain even more confidence.

“Sei divertente, mm?”

You shook your head, not understanding the words, breathing nervously, waiting for an end that seemed to never want to come.

“She said you're funny,” Angie whispered, climbing up your body again. The change in the doll's attitude was quite... Disturbing.

“It's okay,” Lady Beneviento whispered, after a few moments of tense silence. Little by little, you got used to that.

“What?” you asked confused, blinking repeatedly.

“Stay with me, then,” she finally said in a tone you didn't know how to interpret. “But it won't be free. You'll have to help me with my tasks.”

“I'll do what I can,” you said excitedly, seeing a light that you didn't know could illuminate the dark passage of death you had begun to walk through it. “Th, thank you, Lady Beneviento, thank you...”

“Ugh, you're so annoying,” she complained, sighing amused. “Call me Donna.”

So, by a horrible coincidence, your life changed. After losing everything, you found yourself on an uncertain path, in a strange place, with a strange woman. Yes, you knew who she was, you knew what she did, what she was capable of doing, but for some reason, you didn't find any danger beyond your problems.

You were clumsy, you constantly tripped and you always needed someone's help to get back to what was already your room. Normally, it was Angie who took care of that. That sinister puppet seemed to generate a strange sympathy for you.

The days, the weeks passed.

You weren't uncomfortable, you felt fine, the opposite of what you thought. Donna Beneviento, terrible Lord, fears maker, was a kind woman in her own way, elegant, cultured, who taught you a lot of things, who helped you stop being the clumsy girl you were.

Everything seemed to be going well, even too well, even at night, when you could dream, when you could see something in your mind, she started to appear, that lady in black who laughed shyly, who taught you Italian and things about plants.

Thinking about her was quite common in your moments alone.

“Okay, to the right now,” Angie told you, standing on your shoulder, guiding you through the basement. You, with your hands outstretched, obeyed, in a usual exercise of recognition of the old mansion.

“Right…” you whispered, touching the rickety wall with your hands and guiding yourself with your hand resting on it.

“A little more, just a little more,” the doll told you. “Watch out!” she squealed when your body collided with a wall again, for the fifth time that day.

“Angie…” you sighed, rubbing your forehead, tired of the puppet's vague instructions.

“Hey, I'm being good,” she protested, comically hitting your shoulder. “Donna asked me to be good to you and I am.”

“Did Donna ask you?” you asked curiously, with an involuntary smile, thinking that, just as you suspected, the lady was looking out for you.

“Yes, so help me, blind girl,” she said in a mocking tone. “Okay, there, there, in front of you, can you see it?”

“Of course I can’t,” you said sighing annoyed.

“Oh, yes, sure,” Angie said, regretful. “Go ahead, walk forward and you will find the two doors.”

You reluctantly complied, finally finding the workshop doors.

“Well, you did it!” the doll squealed, victorious. “Look, Donna, the silly girl has arrived at the workshop!”

You couldn’t see it, but from the lavender, you knew the lady in black was there, working on her dolls, as usual.

“Yes, thanks to Angie,” you said amused, extending your hands, which were picked up by the soft, gentle hand of Donna, who gently pulled you along.

“Did you hear that, Donna? Thanks to me,” the doll said, in a proud voice. Again, you heard that adorable laugh from the Lord as she guided you to a nearby chair. “What are you doing with that on?”

You frowned, not knowing what she meant.

“Angie, shut up,” the lady protested, sitting next to you, putting a hand on your leg to make sure you were okay, guiding you to check that there was a table in front of you.

“Shut up? You're stupid, Donna, what is the veil for? She's blind,” the doll sang.

“A veil?” you asked, thinking back. Yes, you remembered the lady always covered her face with a black cloth, dark, dark as everyone said it was her soul.

Curious, you raised your hand where you thought the woman in black was, touching with your fingers that black cloth that Angie spoke of.

“Don't touch me,” she said in a sinister voice, grabbing your wrists tightly and suddenly lowering them. You stepped back.

“I'm sorry,” you apologized confused.

“Don’t be,” she said, turning around, working on her dolls again. You couldn't, you couldn't help but ask.

“Why are you covering your face?”

“Why are you blind?” Donna asked back, with a thick accent that betrayed her nervousness and anger at your impudence.

“Well…” you sighed, moved by the memories. “When I was eight I got very sick and… Well, I managed to recover but… I couldn't see again,” you explained with your head down. She sighed, annoyed again, with the noises of the sewing machine stopping.

“Do you know what a rhetorical question is?” she asked mockingly, with a fake laugh.

You smiled amused, nodding.

“I'm not offended by you asking me about my blindness, even if it was a rhetorical question,” you said in a soft voice, running your hands over the table, trying to imagine what was on top of it. “You shouldn't cover yourself, I can't see you.”

“How lucky,” Donna sighed, sadly, but ironically.

“Why do you say so?” you asked again, letting yourself be carried away by curiosity.

“Listen, (Y/N), I don't feel like talking about it, and even less with a gossipy girl like you,” she told you sternly, her voice shaking.

“I know how to keep a secret. I can't talk about what I can't see,” you said amused, taking a risk again, knowing that this was the only way to make Donna be honest with you, to speak from the bottom of her soul. You had proven it several times.

“Right in the point, Don...!” the doll screamed, silenced by something black falling on her head, and which she fought against, in a comical way, you thought. “Hey!”

“Are you happy now?” the lady asked furiously. The black no longer reached her blurry head. You smiled, concentrating to make out something. You didn't manage it, you never would.

Amused, you shrugged.

Donna sighed, as if defeated by your insistence, staying still for a moment.

“When I was little, I fell while running with scissors and lost my right eye,” she explained, without you asking her to.

“Oh, I'm, I'm sorry,” you said hastily, noticing the discomfort of the lady in black, but letting her speak.

“All the children in the village laughed at me, they said I was a monster,” she said quietly, with a nervous sob. “I stopped going out of the house, talking to people…”

“That's horrible,” you said nervously, playing with what looked like a paintbrush on the table.

“Mm,” she murmured, leaning back in the chair. “It's the past.”

“I don't think it's a good enough reason to hide your face,” you said, shaking your head. “I'm sure my eyes are much scarier.”

“Nonsense, they're beautiful,” she whispered quietly, with a different voice, causing you to smile and a burn in your cheeks.

“Thanks, I guess I must trust your word,” you said embarrassed by the compliment. “But at least you were able to get revenge on them, right? When, when Mother Miranda adopted you.”

“She only made it worse!” she suddenly shrieked, kicking the ground again, losing her mind.

You recoiled in fear.

“She, she only made it worse… Now I… I’m, I’m…” she said nervously, trying to calm herself down.

You, still scared but determined, reached out your hand to that black shadow, finding soft skin and soft lips on your way.

“Hey, don’t… Don’t…” she protested, without moving, not preventing your hands from running over her face, exploring her skin.

Your brow furrowed when you found a bulging deformity on the right side of her face, making her gasp nervously. Despite that, you didn't feel anything that made you think her words were true.

“I don't see any monsters here,” you whispered, losing yourself in your caresses, running over the skin of the lady in black without her stopping you.

“You don't see anything, (Y/N),” she sobbed at the same time you noticed a tear on your hand, which hers rested on it, lowering it slowly.

“Yes, I see your soul,” you said in a sweet voice, moving away, breathing calmly, with a smile. “And it’s beautiful.”

Donna stammered confused, trembling, without letting your hand go.

Breathing with difficulty, she brought her other hand to your cheek, comforting you with erratic caresses while her body moved towards yours, while the lavender was much more intense until you could feel her breath very close to you.

You closed your eyes, enjoying those caresses, the subtle touch of her lips against yours, which soon ceased to be that subtle.

A kiss, your first kiss came to your lips, the soft caresses of a kiss of love, a soft, slow, fearful one. You returned it, you kissed her, you kissed those lips that until then had been hidden, you let yourself be carried away by her movements, by that unexpected act.

She pulled away after a few perfect moments, ones that made you sigh, and keep a smile.

“I'm sorry, I shouldn't have done it,” she said, taking her hand away from your cheek, letting a cold breeze to form between the two of you, one that made you feel terribly sick.

“I'm not sorry,” you said, with tears in your useless eyes, with the soft kisses of her lips still present on yours. “Donna, no one has anyone treated me like you.”

“No one has spoken to me like you,” she whispered, suppressing another sob.

You, erratically, searched for her hand in that black dress, the hand that had previously grabbed you, playing with her fingers, wandering over her body until you caressed her cheek again, until you pulled her back to your lips.

She let herself be drawn into a deeper, more passionate, romantic kiss. You cried with joy, with joy for having found an explanation for those strange feelings, for your eternal thoughts about the lady in black.

“If, if you knew, if you could see me, you would never, ever have done it,” she murmured, cupping your face in her hands, not stopping kissing you, not stopping caressing you.

You smiled again, exploring her body, hugging it, impregnating yourself with her lavender scent.

“If I could see you, I would be even happier,” you said, resting your forehead against hers, letting her arms surround your body, arrange your hair, subtly telling you about her feelings.

“(Y/N) I… I, I like having you with me,” she said shyly, embarrassed.

“I like being with you,” you whispered, playing with her hands, enjoying the softness of her skin, the beauty you knew she had.

“Oh, please, stop it! I'm going to get diabetes! Come on, come on, let her go!” Angie interrupted, pushing Donna away from you in a comical way. You looked for her again with your hands, which she picked up laughing amused.

Thus began a new stage in your life, one full of love.

Donna cared for you even more. She covered you with kisses, caresses, read you stories from her books, walked with you through the woods, always holding your hand, always watching over you. You, for your part, were madly in love, discovering that side of the Lord you didn't know existed, that romantic side, that deep desire to be loved.

Nothing could go better in the life of the blind and clumsy (Y/N). What seemed like a misfortune, became your greatest luck. Your wish was no longer to regain your sight, but to always be with Donna, always.

“Admit it, it hasn't turned out so bad,” you said amused, searching for the bed with your hands, that bed you now shared with her. Donna laughed amused, helping you cover yourself with the sheets.

“You almost cooked just boiling water but I guess you haven't done it that bad,” she whispered amused, kissing you quickly and joining you in bed.

“I'm sure I'll learn to cook as well as you,” you joked, snuggling up to her. The lady laughed again, caressing your hair.

“Mm?” she murmured, fleeing from the erratic sea of kisses with which you covered her every night. “Hey, I'm sure you will, tesoro.”

You sighed, hugging her body again.

“Did you imagine this?” you asked, sinking into her chest, becoming a little melancholic. “You know, being in love with someone like me.”

“I could ask you the same thing,” she answered, with a tired sigh.

“Your voice is beautiful… I love it,” you commented, moving playfully on her body. She laughed, shaking her head.

“My voice?” she asked curiously, with her hands tangling in your hair. “Learn to lie.”

“I don't lie,” you protested in a childish way, stealing another kiss from her. “It's the only thing I can tell you without you doubting me, it doesn't matter how many times I tell you that I'm convinced of your beauty.”

Donna sighed, kissing your hair affectionately.

“Do you know what I love?” she asked in a soft voice, the one that made you smile. “Your beautiful face when you smile at me.”

“Mm,” you murmured, writhing in pleasure at hearing those words, at knowing that even someone like you could be beautiful to her. “Donna, I want to make love to you.”

“What?” she asked, startled by your unexpected request. “Uh, I mean… (Y/N)…”

“What's wrong? You don't dare?” you asked, nervous at that reaction. “Is it because I'm blind?”

“No, no, I… Well yes, no, no…” she stammered, getting tense. “It's just that I… I've never…”

“Me neither,” you said, relieved for knowing that was the reason for her fear, and not your problem.

“I see,” she whispered.

“I don't,” you joked amused, climbing clumsily onto her body, with your legs on either side of her hips.

“You spend too much time with Angie,” she said, caressing your cheek but not moving away.

“She's like my guide dog,” you continued joking, biting your lip with hunger, with a desire to love completely.

“I hope she doesn't hear you,” she said, laughing amused, positioning you so you were more comfortable.

“I’ve heard it!” an irritating squeal sounded behind the door and you both laughed amused.

“Donna, please... I want, I want to love you...” you begged, radically changing the subject, insisting on your desire.

“I...” she murmured shyly, resting her hands on your waist, something that excited you quite a bit. “It's, it's okay.”

The kisses came, the caresses increased their intensity, their journey. It was a fiery dance, wild kisses that traveled beyond your lips, down your neck, down your chest…

The clothes got in the way and you got rid of yours. Donna did the same, still adoring you, showering you with praise for something you couldn't see, because of the beauty she claimed you had. Gasps escaped from your lips, from hers.

The movements of your hips found a stable rhythm when your naked bodies danced, rubbing against each other.

You wouldn't know how to describe those emotions, those sensations of being able to touch her, of feeling that you were inside of her, that you were just one, just a mass of flesh in love.

Your hands danced happily over her body, hers over yours, inside you. The kisses softened the obscenity of the wet sounds that covered the room, kisses that were less and less innocent, that savored your arousal, that fed your uncontrollable desire.

You couldn't be able to know how long that act of love lasted, but you didn't want to either, you only cared about what you felt, what you touched, what you sensed... Donna and you, you and Donna, there was nothing else, no clothes, no fear, no trembling, just your two naked bodies dancing in unison, a romantic, passionate and lustful dance.

“Are you okay?” the lady asked, when the ecstasy ended, when your two bodies arched together. You nodded, searching for her bare chest, letting your head sink into it again.

“Yes, better than ever,” you whispered, kissing her soft skin, annoyed by so much concern.

“There's something I haven't told you yet and... I think, I think I should do it now,” Donna whispered, caressing you affectionately, calming your nervous breathing. “I, I love you, (Y/N).”

“Oh, Donna,” you said, excited by everything that had happened, by all the things that were to come. “I love you too. You, you have illuminated my darkness...”

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

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bellewintersroe · 11 months ago

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Joe Liebgott x Reader.

two times Joe doesn’t want to come to you, and the one time he does… tw - swearing, talks of war and wounds, ptsd, 1940s terms, some descriptions of war and death but nothing too intense. I keep deleting and rewriting parts but I’m just not so happy with the ending, idk :/

The Crossroads, October 1944. “Joe… go see Nurse Y/l/n once you’ve done this.” Winters told him. “Yes, sir.” Yeah right. The last person who he’d be taking a visit to was Y/n, especially like this- all wound up and wounded. He’d report to nurse Smith instead, the other nurse for 2nd battalion to who he didn’t have such an… attachment towards. You see, it wasn’t that Joe disliked her. It wasn’t that at all. In fact it was more the complete opposite- his bond with Y/n was something he’d never experienced before. To get to the point, he was in love with her. But Joe refusing to be seen as anything other than the alpha male meant he sacrificed one vital human emotion when he was around her. Vulnerability. So instead of doing at Winters ordered, he simply stood a couple meters away from the aid station (it was a brick house they’d taken over) and just stared in contemplation. Joe had seen all the nasty side effects wound infections could cause, plus, he didn’t want to be taken off the line- but dammit he was fine. Just as he made the decision to turn back around, a voice called out. Joe stood, his shoulders tense as he stared up at the ‘aid station’. It was just a stolen brick, house which people once lived in. Now, the wounded took over, bleeding to death inside the walls. He felt himself shudder once at the thought and dammit- he was fine he didn’t need to bother you whilst you were hard at work with some scratch. Joe began to turn around, ready to head back in the other direction when he heard your voice calling out. Perfect timing.

“Joe!” She’d spotted him from a mile off, first from out the window, and secondly when she came to the door to retrieve the lost looking boy. “Joe, what’re you doing?” Her voice was gentle, yet somewhat laced with worry. He internally sighed at his inside melting into goo at the sight of her. He watched the way her brows knotted as she reached up, running her fingers over the bandage and grazing the warmth of his skin.

“What happened?” God she was angelic, Liebgott could’ve easily fallen into her arms if it wasn’t for- “oh my god, what did you do?!” Her concern peaked, pulling on his arm to take a better look.

“M’ fine, it’s nothin’. Winters sent me to Nurse Smith.” He muttered, it was a lie, one he felt horrible about as well. As soon as her brows perked and he watched the breath get caught in her throat, he knew he’d been caught out. “Oh. Nurse Smi- Alice left like an hour ago. Winters orders- so I don’t think… I don’t think he’d send you to her.” For the first time she felt jealousy towards her friend. A lingering pang of pain and sadness, one that she didn’t conceal very well and Liebgott could immediately sense he’d hurt her feelings.

“Um… but I’ll go get one of the guys for you, Spina was free last I checked.” Great. In all his stubbornness, he’d somehow wound up and turned this into backfiring on her. “Y/n/n-”

“No. It’s fine, Liebgott. I’m busy anyway…”

December 1944, Bastogne.

Blowing on her hands, Y/n cupped them together, eyes scanning around the town as she pulled her shoulders up, body rigid with the baltic temperatures of Bastogne. Her boots crunched under the snow with each step, and she was careful to walk around the piles of bodies that lingered the side of the streets. She was a mix between on the lines with second battalion and back in the town, taking care of the hundreds of wounded or mentally disturbed soldiers, haunted by the traumas of the battle. Even leaving the make-do infirmary couldn’t get her away from the horrors of war. Somehow, Y/n preferred being on the lines, at least then she was with familiar faces, ones she trusted and knew. She slowed to a halt when a familiar face stood not too far ahead of her. Her breath became caught before she let out a slight laugh, relieved for the first time in days to see somebody she cared so deeply for.

“Joe.” The relief on her voice was evident, his name was light and airy and lingered in the cold air that surrounded them. Joe’s head turned, heart stolen by the voice. The finger that had been batting against his thigh momentarily stopped, the last person he wanted to see here was her- surrounded by death, bombings. He didn’t even register the warmth he felt at the sight of her. The colour of her eyes were a stark contrast to the white of the snow below, yet they were rimmed with dark circles, red and puffy. You see, Liebgott recognised straight away how far she’d wandered, completely alone, standing no taller than an adolescent. If a Kraut caught her out here- well… Liebgott didn’t even want to think of what potentially may happen.

“What’re you doing out here?” He squinted, shaking his head in utter confusion. He felt angry, pissed off that such a fragile thing could be caught in the crossfire out here. He was already riled up, being moved to CP runner which had still yet to ease his stress. Her smile faded, and she momentarily just watched back up to him, feeling as though her relief wasn’t mutual. Liebgott looked tired, pale, just a shell of his previous self. “Well I’m stationed in the town today.” Y/n’s voice quietened noticing the strange way Joe looked at her. Usually she’d be met with smiles, hugs, relieved greetings on his behalf. He’d grin and call her sweetheart or doll- something she selfishly wanted to hear in that moment. “In the town, so what the hell are ya’ doin’ out here?” Usually Joe wouldn’t be this… harsh. Not with anybody, especially not to Y/n. “I just came for a walk.” She recognised how stupid that sounded as soon as she spoke. You don’t just go for a walk in the middle of war. But she wasn’t being silly, she didn’t even realise how far she’d trekked out.

“Well, why’re you out here?” She quickly chimed, preventing Liebgott from inevitably telling her off. He’d been extremely on edge recently, more so than the other men out here.

“Go back to town, Y/n.” Joe sighed, blowing out smoke from his cigarette. She winced at the harshness of his words, looking at the red band on his arm. CP runner. “Winters sent you back here?” She tried again. He finally looked at her, chewing on the inside of his lips.

“Yeah.” He finally responded, glancing around for any danger. “I gotta get this back to battalion.” He half-arsed lifted up a letter. Her eyes followed it, before falling back down to the snow below her. She gasped slightly, feeling something beneath her shoe, quickly recognising it to just be nothing more than a rock. Liebgott watched in concern, hearing a snapping sound from the right of him. It was instantaneous, he grabbed hold of her coat, keeping her behind him with gun held up in the other.

“Relax.” Out walked a guy from D-company. He’d obviously just been taking a shit or something in the woods- but he’d almost wound up shot.

“Dammit.” Liebgott dropped his gun, teeth clenched as the man disappeared back around the corner, towards the time. He could handle the idea of himself being hurt, but not her. It was too risky out here- he was angry at her for even being out here in the first place.

“Go back to the town would ya?” He snapped, voice raised as she stared back to him wide eyes. “Joe-” “No! Just get outta here! What’re you stupid for walking here in the first place?” Her mouth fell agape, breaking all eye contact and feeling her head begin to shake in complete disbelief. “No? Yes? Just leave!” Joe was completely unrecognisable, deep down she knew he was somewhat telling the truth- but he was so mean, the tears pricked way too fast in her eyes.

“We lost 10 guys in the last hour.” As soon as her voice wobbled she gulped the sensation away. “So forgive me for being happy to see you.” His blood ran cold, the minute she turned around Joe held his head in his hands, groaning. What a weird way to tell a girl you love her? Right…

May 1945, Austria.

Joe minded his business as he strolled through the streets of Austria. He’d just finished a gruelling course in preparation to be shipped out to the pacific. Despite the calmness that was here, most men were still on edge about the continuation of the war. Like most things, Joe just grumbled about it a couple times and got on with it. If they wanted him to fight the Japanese, he’d be just as brutal as them, there’s no way Easy would go through all that shit in Europe just to be sent out to the shitty- “Woah!” Joe dramatically spoke, stumbling over something as he completely didn’t watch where he was going. He heard somebody gasp from below him, a light voice, one belonging to a woman.

“Ow.” No other than Y/n sat there, perched on a rock as she looked out to the serene views ahead of her. She grasped at her ankle, wincing at the pain of where the soldier had practically stood on here. When Joe spun around, he felt his breath get caught in his throat seeing who it was.

“Y/n!” He panted out, recognising the tear stains down your cheeks. Oh fuck, he was just a klutz! Now he’d made you cry- potentially not for the first time either. “Shit, I’m sorry sweetheart, did I hurt you bad? Fuck, I’m sorry.” Crouching down, he placed a hand on her shoulder, constantly glancing between her face and ankle. What Joe didn’t realise at first was that her tear stains were old. Her eyes were slightly puffy from crying and he’d interrupted something. “No. It’s okay, you just scared me.” She pulled her leg back with a wince. “No, don’t be silly, here let me see.” Joe let out a sad kinda laugh, she smiled only a little, allowing him to outstretch her leg again. It had been months since the two were close, they’d grown apart in the war, Joe’s lack of ability to show vulnerability had pushed her further and further away until they were no more than old acquaintances. “I’ll be fine, Joe.” She let out a chuckle, amused by her own ability to get caught up in something unlucky. She figured she’d be alone out here, now here Liebgott was trying to massage her ankle.

“Are you sure? You- you don’t look it…” his voice lowered, watching through his eyelashes. She forced another half smile before her head dropped, “it’s okay, Joe.” He sensed she was doing the exact same thing he did to her all those months ago. “Hey, no. C’mere.” Moving around, he perched besides her on the rock, unable to help himself from wrapping an arm around her in comfort.

“You good? Did I hurt your ankle that bad, kid, or have I just interrupted somethin’?” She let out a sad laugh again at his words, wiping under her eyes. “I’m just… I’m just scared for the pacific.” Her chest felt lighter when she spoke those words. With the twig she had in her hand, she continued poking at the mud below, averting Liebgott’s gaze which cascaded over her face. For a moment he was stumped, his heart was beating at a furious speed and oh god- he was fuckin’ nervous. Not the time to be nervous when she was crying in his arms. He opened his mouth to speak, but swallowed them away before letting out a sigh, looking across the beautiful lake ahead of them.

“I don’t wanna do it anymore, y’know. And they’re… brutal over there.” She spoke up once more, fingers writhing together as she finally glanced up to him. When he did look back he felt his heart shatter to meet her glassy eyes.

“I know.” Was all he could manage at first, watching over her face as she waited for his response. “If anything’s good practice it’s being on the front lines though, right?” He attempted as she felt a breath of laughter leave her throat at his comment. Joe’s face turned slightly, visibly cringing at his response.

“Ah, shit Y/n/n, but seriously, we’re all gonna be there together, y’know. You’ve gotta whole company willingly to die before they let anything happen to ya’.” He squeezed her reassuringly to which she sadly laughed again, assuming he was being lighthearted.

“No, I’m serious. Look, kid, I know if it’s between me and you- I’m jumpin’ in front of ya.” He admitted without even thinking, this time it was her gaze on him. “I’d do the same for you.” Joe froze, not expecting the mutual terms of their speech. Something had softened inside of him, that fluttering in his stomach had returned in full force- it never really left, just dulled from the years of war and pushing her away. She felt her breath become heavy, blinking over his handsome face.

“Well, that’s if you’d actually want me around you.” She pathetically attempted to joke, wiping under her eyes to prevent her mascara from running any further. “What?” Joe’s head snapped up, meeting her gaze. “Hey, I always want ya’ around me, don’t be silly.” He spoke again, hand cautiously landing on her knee. “No but… I thought you didn’t like me.” The words caused something inside Joe’s chest to pang and twinge sharply. “Course I like ya.” The words fell more serious than be intended. “I wanna be around you all the time.” Y/n swooned at his words, still painfully head over heels for him all these years later. Her hand slipped into his, feeling his larger fingers squeeze a little around hers. “You didn’t seem like that before…”

“Ah, I was just being a dick.” He shrugged. “Sorry.” He glanced down to his lap momentarily. “I don’t hold it against you. I just- I just thought you never felt the same.” Her jaw tensed, head feeling hot at her sudden admission of feelings. Joe felt the corners of his lips tug teasingly.

“You wanna hang out with me later? Like just us two.” Finally, he saw a smile reach up to her eyes. It was a genuine kind, one that he didn’t think he’d actually seen in a real long time.

“Yeah, I’d like that.” Turning down, she wiped under her eyes once more, past worries seemingly forgotten about. She let out a giggle as he watched her with nothing short than pure delight. “I can’t believe I cried.” “I’ve seen a whole lot worse doll, don’t worry about it…. Haven’t you got enough points to leave anyway?”

“No. It doesn’t work like that for us nurses.”

“Ah crap… suppose you’re stuck with me for another three years then.” “Lucky me.” She teased, sarcastically digging her arm into his side as he nudged her back with a knowing smile. “Lucky me more like.”

“Yeah after finally making a move 3 years later.”

“Maybe I oughta’ have run straight past you, now you’re just getting bold.” He joked. “Or maybe you could’ve done that anyway, without breaking my ankle.”

#joe liebgott x reader #band of brothers imagine #band of brothers x reader #joe liebgott imagines #Liebgott x reader

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redstrewn · 5 months ago

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"I won't leave you, and you won't leave me." With uncomfortably close sprite. Just neutral resting smile.

Now imagining pissing him off sneaking out. Taking any opportunity to try to get him off your tail. Trying to get his hounds off your ass. Trying to keep presenting himself as totally reasonable so he's probably not gonna lock you in. He just can't and maybe prefers not to because He's Too Good to Do Something That Horrible! And he's getting increasingly aggravated that while yes, he wants you to Make Your Own Choices. TECHNICALLY. It's annoying that your ass of a walking mega power generator won't. Fucking. Cooperate. He tries to play the long game with everyone. Tries to be patient. Can wait years. But with your luck you keep. Slipping. Away from him and the others might just get to you too. You won't. Fucking. Trust what he says but he needs whatever the fuck you have, because holy shit it will change EVERYTHING. And he's being so nice and doing all these things and offering you all this food and everything and you! Won't! Stay! Fucking put! The patience he honed so carefully is being tested.

Idk i just want to shake him like a snow globe

#im talking out of my ass #redstrewn talks

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sillysturns · 1 month ago

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White Christmas

warnings: slight smut (fingering and idk what else im sorry), this is horrible so yeah

authors note: this is HORRIBLE but i have writers block or some shit so idk what to do GIVE ME SUGGESTIONS PLEASE also this is NAWT proofread so excuse all my mistakes

dividers: the amazing sturnblr queen @bernardsbendystraws

"You've got to be kidding me," I exclaimed, peering through the windshield as the first flakes of snow began to fall. "We're seriously going to look at Christmas lights in this?"

"It's a tradition," Chris said, his eyes twinkling with excitement. He shot a look at his brothers, Matt and Nick, who both grinned in the front seats. "It's the best time of the year. Plus, it'll be an adventure."

Matt turned the car's heater up a notch, and the warm air began to circulate, chasing away the chill from the outside. "Besides," he added, "It's not every day you get to see the whole neighborhood lit up like Times Square."

Nick, the designated DJ, queued up a playlist of holiday classics, and soon the car was filled with the comforting sound of Bing Crosby crooning "White Christmas." As we drove, the snowfall grew heavier, and the streets grew quieter, muffled by the fresh white blanket of snow that was slowly enveloping everything. The world outside was transforming into a silent, shimmering wonderland.

Chris reached for my hand, and his thumb began to trace gentle circles on the back of it. I leaned into him, my body responding to his touch despite the frigid air outside. Our eyes met in the rearview mirror, and I knew what he was thinking. This was going to be a night to remember.

As the car glided through the snow-covered streets, Chris's hand slowly made its way from my hand to my thigh. His touch grew bolder, his fingers inching closer and closer to the heat between my legs. The anticipation was agonizing, and I could feel my heart racing.

With a quick glance to the front, ensuring the guys weren't watching, he slipped his hand beneath the hem of my skirt. The fabric was soft and warm, a stark contrast to the cold outside. His fingers danced over the smooth skin of my inner thigh before finally finding their way to the damp fabric of my panties. I bit my bottom lip, trying to contain the moan that threatened to escape as his touch grew more insistent.

His middle finger slid under the elastic band and found my clit, gently stroking it in time with the rhythm of the car. The sensation was electric, sending waves of pleasure shooting through my body.

The world outside faded away as he expertly stroked my clit, the only sounds the soft purr of the engine and the muffled carols from the speakers. I clutched the seat, my knuckles turning white as the intensity grew. The car's gentle swaying seemed to match the rhythm of Chris's hand as it worked its magic.

As the first orgasm crashed over me, my body tensed and my eyes squeezed shut. The sensation washed over me like a warm wave, leaving me trembling in its wake. The lights from the houses we passed played across my closed lids, painting a kaleidoscope of colors against the darkness.

Chris leaned in, his breath warm against my ear. "Ready for round two?" he whispered, his voice low and filled with mischief. My heart pounding, I nodded, unable to form words. This was definitely not the Christmas lights tour I'd expected, but it was quickly becoming one of the best nights of my life.

The car slowed as we approached a particularly extravagant display, and I felt Chris's hand slip away. He turned to face me, a knowing smile playing on his lips. "Let's get closer," he suggested, and before I could object, we were out of the car, the cold air a sharp contrast to the warmth we'd shared in the back seat.

The snow crunched under our feet as we walked along the sidewalk, the lights reflecting off the fresh powder. The cold air was invigorating, sending shivers down my spine that only served to heighten the lingering pleasure from our backseat rendezvous.

As we strolled, hand in hand, I couldn't help but feel a sense of giddy excitement. The night had taken an unexpected turn, and I was eager to see where it led. The twinkling lights above us seemed to wink in approval as we passed by, setting the stage for what was to come.

We stopped in front of a house with an impressive scene, the figures outlined in glowing white lights. "You know, I always liked this one," I said, my voice barely above a whisper.

Chris looked at me, his eyes dark and intense. "There's something else I'd like to do under the mistletoe," he murmured, pulling me closer. And just like that, the world outside disappeared again, and all that mattered was the warmth of his body against mine, and the promise of more passionate moments to come.

love ya, from maya [bored]

ALSO HOW TF DO I MAKE THE PICTURE SMALLER

#chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo imagine #sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo

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fresh-lover · 3 months ago

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Boy next door… (pt.1)

Little Chris blurb, idk if I’m even gonna make another one

TW: underaged smoking, maybe swearing??, teenage!chris, Emo! Chris, mentions of being naked.. nothing else I think, tell me if I missed anything!!!

I looked up after I had fell on the cold stone sidewalk outside of my school, I was on a walk getting stoned, who would be out at this hour? I had thought to myself. As I looked up I saw a boy who looked about 16, and man, he was gorgeous. The most captivating blue eyes, brown fluffy hair, baggy denim jeans, a black studded leather belt, and a black shirt that read “deftones, diamond eyes” with what I’d assume is a snow owl, as it was white. I also think he was wearing eye-liner, but it was too dark to tell. “Yo, that’s my bad, you need a hand up?” The boy said. “Uh, yes please…” I replied before he held his hand out for me to grab. I grabbed his hands -which were shockingly warm- as he pulled me up. “You go here?” He asked, I assumed he was talking to me, as there was no one else around. “Yeah.. you?” I said back. Earning a bit of a grin out of him. “Yeah, actually. Are you a sophomore or something? I’ve never seen you around.” I looked at him a bit funny at the question. “Uhm, no.. I’m a junior, actually…” I replied. I felt a bit uneasy with this kid, who just talks to some random girl at 3:30 in the morning? Actually it was probably later than that by now, at least 4:00. “Then why haven’t I seen you around? What’s your name?” I looked at him kinda funny. “My names (reader), Yours?” I asked the boy. Now that I got a better look at him, under the light, I think I know him from somewhere. “Chris. Chris Sturniolo.” Jackpot. He was my neighbour, that’s how I knew him. “Oh, you live beside me.” I said, then he looked a little horrified, but not for long, then he smirked. “You’re the hot chick that always leaves her window open when she changes, aren’t ‘ya.” My eyes widened as I choked on air “what?” He smirked even wider. “You live in the black and grey house, no?” “I mean yeah, but why are you watching me change?” I questioned, I don’t even know why I asked, he’s a single teenaged boy that’s filled to the brim with hormones, of course he’s watching me change. “Oh cmon, ma. Don’t act like you’ve never watched me change.” I felt my face heat up, he saw that? “I- uh- no I don’t..” I said, attempting to lie, not doing a very good job. “Don’t lie to me..” he replied, now grinning. After that he just walked away…

(A/n)

I know this is horrible, but I was bored😭 Anyways I’m a new writer!!! So obviously I’m not too good. But any tips are welcome and appreciated!! I hope you have a wonderful day!! Tell me if you actually want a part 2!

#nick sturniolo #chris sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nathan doe #chris sturniolo x reader #christopher sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #stromboli

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katiemay-025 · 5 months ago

Note

hey idk if you have ur requests open or not cause i couldn’t find anything that says that they’re not (or im just blind)

but if they are open can you please do a johanna mason x reader to the song stranger by olivia rodrigo specifically the part “your just a stranger i know everything about” like maybe instead of finnick dying it could’ve been reader or smtg like just an idea

no pressure at all if you don’t wanna write it it’s fine dw

I’m open to requests as of yet anon but I’ve got work so might take a while or I could have a random burst of inspiration.

~~~

Stranger

~~~

summary: Johanna arrives in Capitol after the war and finds out some horrible news.

wc: 3.2k

warnings: mdni, angst, use of y/n, character death, grief, not proofread.

~~~~~

Watching from the sidelines was agony. If it were for that stupid Block Test, Johanna would be storming The Capitol with you, with Finnick, with the damn Mockingjay herself. Yet, here she was in the hospital staring at the white tiled walls. She didn’t know if you were okay or not and it drove her up the wall.

Communication between the group could not be achieved without interference from the Capitol. The ‘fallen tribute’ propo was played and it nearly caused Johanna to faint. The District 7 girl marched down to Beetee and demanded to know the truth. He had shown her the hacked camera system in the Capitol where everyone in the team had gone underground except for the guy that Peeta pushed into the tar.

She replayed the seconds of you walking by the camera near the middle of the group. You had held your weapon in your right hand and your left hand fiddled with the blue hospital bracelet that Johanna had given you.

You were still alive but heading deeper into the heart of Panem. It wasn’t going to be easy for you and the team. Johanna believed in you, after all, you were nicknamed the Career Grim Reaper as you ended the 6 year career streak between Enobaria and Augustus Braun. In your Hunger Games, you won with a scythe, chopping people’s bodies and head clean in half. With the added bonus of your taller than average height of 5’9” for a woman you could reach enemies from further. As for close range combat, beetee made sure you were able to retract the staff and have your scythe double as a sickle.

A few days later was when Snow lost all his supporters by bombing his own citizens. Johanna could care less, about them. They all deserved to burn in her eyes. He was captured by the rebels and Coin wanted all the victors to watch his executions. Alas, that event would come later as members of squad 451 were injured.

She was flown to the Capitol in a helicarrier with Beetee, Haymitch and Annie. Johanna nearly threw Annie out of it for annoying her. Annie’s nervous habit of biting her nails earned glares from the district 7 victor. Coin and her sources never told them who was injured.

When the helicarrier landed, the victors were escorted through the mansion. It was like the opposite of the rescue mission where she and Annie were in the hospital beds and Finnick and you were the ones running to them.

Annie started running first, desperate to see if her husband was okay. It made Johanna run behind her to try and find you. Annie barged through the door finding Finnick with a cast on his left arm and torso. “Finnick!”

“Annie!” He held her with the same intensity he did in District 13, the same passion on their wedding day. The kissed without a care in the world as Johanna searched the room.

Her heart rate picked up the longer she spent without you. “Where’s Y/n?”

Finnick turned over and gave her a solemn look with tear stains on his cheek. “I’m sorry.” He whispered.

“What are you talking about. Where is Y/n?”

Annie had pulled away slightly curious as to his answer of where you were. In Finnick’s mind, he was reliving the moment after the Quell, when you woke up on the helicarrier and asked where Johanna was. It broke his heart because in both cases, he would have to deliver a painful blow. “She’s- she’s dead. Y/n’s dead.”

Annie gasped throwing her hand over her mouth. The room ran cold and Johanna scoffed. “If this is your idea of a joke, it’s sick.”

“You know this is something I would never joke about.” Finnick replies and Annie begins to cry.

Johanna shakes her head. “No I don’t believe you. Just bring me to her. I want to see her.”

“There is no body Johanna. She was blown up.”

“She can’t have just left nothing!” Johanna yelled, tears threatening to fall down her face. “What about her weapon, a scorched piece of clothes. The hospital bracelet I gave her as a token. Something.”

Finnick’s face twisted in pain remembering your last moments. “Nothing.” He said with his shaky voice. Unlike Johanna, he let the tears start rolling down his cheek. Annie reaches over and wipes his tears.

Johanna glared at the lovers tender moments. Oh how she wanted that more than anything right now. After all you and her have been through, that much was owed to her. She pushes her feelings down with a deep breath. “Tell me- tell me what happened. Please.”

Finnick closed his eyes and winced. Johanna saw him thumb the small robe he had with him. “We escaped underground to rest for a bit. We woke to lizard mutts tracking Katniss’ scent but it didn’t matter, they ripped through anything that moved.

“We lost most of the district 13 soldiers before we decided to get out of the sewers. They had us at a choke point, we were surrounded and we had to go up an old rusty ladder.

“We were one of the last ones to go up. When I climbed. The mutts pulled me down by my shoulder and parts of the ladder with me. I heard the crack in my arm and I thought I was dead. Y/n saved my life, she killed the mutts around me with her scythe, threw me over her shoulder and ran. The camera crew shot at the mutts behind us but they kept coming.

“Y/n got us to another ladder and pushed me up. Pollux and Gale were there to pull me out of the sewers.”Finnick paused as he began to cry again. “I thought- I thought she was right behind me but all I heard was her screaming. She was nowhere in sight. The mutts had gotten to her and they were ripping her apart. Katniss blew them up and put Y/n out of her misery.”

Finnick barely finished retelling your last moments before Johanna stormed out of the infirmary. Her feet brought her to a room of glass vases and ceramic podiums. They must’ve had some significance to Snow but she didn’t care. Her breath quickened. She swiped at the glass and watched them shatter on the ground. She shoved the podiums over and let them crack.

Johanna rampaged through the room throwing and kicking anything that could break. The glass, the clay. She hated it all. You were dead only several hours before the war ended. It wasn’t fair, of all people, you didn’t deserve to die. You were good. Johanna fell to her knees, not caring about the broken glass cutting up her legs. She clumped a bunch in her hands and watched as the red liquid cascaded down to the floor. The red contrasting against the white marble floor as pure as snow.

Snow. Everything went back to him. Her pain, her losses: Her family, you. You. Your suffering. Your agony. Your death. It was all his fault. Johanna grunted in anger before turning from the room. She didn’t care if Katniss wanted to be the one to kill snow, Johanna had every right to kill him.

Before she could though, one of the training doctors saw her bloody hand and Johanna was taken to the infirmary. They were gentle with her and she hated it. Memories of defying the District 13 doctors swirled in her mind. She had refused to allow treatment in fear of it being a facade. She was afraid to be hurt again and you stayed by her side glaring at the Doctors who would cause Johanna to even wince.

The cut on her hand didn’t hurt despite the amount of blood coming through. The pain came from her chest. How it beat against her rib cage like it was trapped and trying to squeeze through the ridges and jump out of her body. Johanna even felt her heart beat in her throat and it made her nauseous. Her breath quickened as she tried to swallow the lump in her throat.

She stepped away quickly from the doctors, not caring if they hadn’t finished patching her up. Something overcame her, despite her hate for the Hunger Games, she went to the library where all the games were stored in the archive. Johanna cradled your taped game in her bloody hand.

There was a small lounge area with a television and the District 7 victor sat firmly in it watching your game. You were 16 at the time and besides the baby fat you almost looked the same now. The same muscular features highlighted your tall stature. She spent 3 hours watching you and your games and when it was done, she rewinded all the way to the beginning to watch it again.

Another reason for your nickname being the Career Grim Reaper was that you killed them all. You managed to join the careers and at night during your watch, The other district 9 tribute emerged from the bushes and together you slit their throats. The other two barely had time to react to the cannons before you sliced their heads off.

Your partner tried to get the upper hand on you when you shook hands but you quickly held him in a choke hold yelling at him to stop. He kept thrashing and managed to stab you in the arm. With great reluctance in your face and a quick apology, you snapped his neck.

The 68th Hunger Games was replayed a few times before someone came looking for Johanna. Being the stubborn and cranky woman she was, she stayed in the single seat, ignoring her stomach’s call for food just to see you. She could feel your spirit and your strength as if you were sitting next to her. It felt comforting.

The house maid brought her food at Finnick’s request and Johanna proceeded to ‘rot’ in front of the televisions. She only got up to use the restroom for the next week. Then a district 13 soldier came to ask her to a meeting. She didn’t want to go through the trouble of finding you tape again so she pocketed it.

She was greeted by some of the other victors, Finnick, Annie, Beetee, Peeta, Haymitch and surprisingly Enobaria. Katniss walked in and Johanna glared daggers at the mockingjay. That brainless girl was the reason you’re dead, but the death of her sister enough pain for her. She’d know the meaning of loss for the rest of her life.

President Coin gathered the remaining victors and with a short protest, Johanna found that Enobaria, along with herself, Peeta, and Annie, they were granted immunity. Shes still trying to to kill Enobaria, she was probably lying comfortably in her bed while everyone else fought for their freedom. She proposed a vote for a symbolic hunger games.

This was unfair. You were a victor you should’ve been there at the vote. It was your right. It was upsetting how you were hours away from a stop at this table. Regardless, in her anger and revenge she votes yes in hopes that Snow’s granddaughter gets reaped and he has to watch her die.

After the vote, came the execution. Everyone far and wide came to witness the death of a tyrannical dictator. Imagine being hated so much that everyone comes to witness your execution. Katniss broke her promise again! Instead of killing Snow, she killed Coin. Across the way, she could hear Snow’s maniacal laughter. Johanna clenched her fists and she felt the glass piece from last week cut her hand. The girl quickly pulled it out and flung at Snow’s head.

She watched a brilliant spray of blood and his laughter cease. People shoved her aside as they stormed to get their hands on President Snow. If he wasn’t dead from the glass in his face, he’d be dead from the crowd. Either way, he wouldn’t get the last laugh.

One of the guards, yanked her from the crowd and pulled her to safety. Yeah, protect the victor. Where was this level of security for you? They sent the victors back to their districts and before she got on hers, Finnick and Annie approached her.

“We know how much you love the forest, so when you need a break with watching that tape, eat something okay. We’re going to figure things out on our end so we can go to District 7 with you.”

“I’m not a child Finnick, I’ll be fine.”

“Don’t fight us on this. If I come over and smell the stench of rotting flesh I will bring you back from hell to kill you myself.” Finnick stepped closer to threaten her.

“Really? Threatening a victor?”

“Yes, how low of me. I’m not threatening a victor, I’m threatening my best friend.”

Johanna snapped her head at him as he used those words. If looks could kill, Finnick would’ve been in hell. “Don’t call me that! We both know Y/n was your best friend and I swear if you erase her…”

“She saved my life. I’m not erasing her. It’s just that she’s de- I can have two best friends.”

“No you can’t.”

“Okay fine. I’m threatening my best friend’s lover. I owe her that much, to take care of you.”

On the train ride home, she watched your game again. Feeling prouder and prouder of what you had done. Watching you at that young age, you were like a stranger to her. A stranger she knew everything about.

She knew your hobby which was beer crafting. She knew your family consisting of just your grandfather who passed away at the old age of 83 a few months after the 73rd Hunger Games. She knew how the rest of them died, your mom dying in childbirth and your father dying a couple months after from heartbreak. She knew about your spunk, any thought you said, you said without muttering. She knew about your habit, like how you’d pick at the skin around your finger nails or the way your eye twitches when someone chews with their mouth open. She knew of your fears, like your fear of the dark and being alone with no one to love you. She knew your favorite food, her own Marionberry pie with a bit of ice cream on the top. She knew the way you’d pick up the telephone by saying hello twice in quick succession. She even knew your fighting style and that you preferred close quarter combat.

After finding out about your passing she had yet to cry. Annie had cried, Finnick cried, Katniss almost cried. Hell even Enobaria cried. Her voice had broke on the phone a few months after returning home and she cried to Johanna. She just pulled the phone away from her ear and brought it back when she thought Enobaria was done. Alas, she was still in tears. Johanna managed a ‘there there’ and called it a day.

It wasn’t because she didn’t miss you she missed you everyday. She just couldn’t cry even if she wanted to. It’s as if she’s wasted all her tears before ever truly knowing you. She watched your games less and less throughout the years, and the Odair’s even named their daughter after you.

There were days where she couldn’t get up because of the heartache and then days like today she hadn’t thought of you so far. Finnick and Annie had their kids over for her birthday tomorrow and Johanna played with them as they splashed through the splash pad. Annie slowly got Johanna to be comfortable with the water.

She was turning 24 tomorrow and it dawned on Johanna that you never got to be 24, dying a few months short. You would never get the chance to be 24, 25, 26 and so on. She didn’t know what overcame her, before she knew it her tears fell out of her eyes torrentially.

Wiping at her tears, Johanna grew crazy when they wouldn’t stop. The time for crying was long over. It’s been over for 3 years. She was okay now, Johanna was sure of it. The weight of grief had lifted off her chest already, but now she felt it all. You were forever going to be 23 and she was going to be older than you now. The last time she saw you in person was when you told her you’d ‘see her soon’. She never got to see you again and anytime she conjured up an image of you, it was the 16 year old stranger. It was unfair.

She bit her lip to stop herself but the moment your namesake saw the glistening skin under her eye, her small hands shook the victor’s shoulder asking, “Aunty Jo? Are you okay?”

“Y/n I’m okay.” She looked into the child’s eye and burst into tears. Johanna pulls Finnick and Annie’s second child in for a hug and bawls repeating your name. The parents snapped into action when they heard the crying only to find Johanna in tears.

It was Annie that arrived first. Her daughter stood there confused and wouldn’t move when Annie tried to pull her away. Your namesake wrapped her arms around Johanna to let her cry. Finnick arrived shortly after seeing Annie pat her on the back. He mouthed ‘what happened’ to his wife but she only shrugged.

The couple were at a loss for words, but luckily, as parents, they knew what to do. They tried to pry Johanna from their daughter but she held on. It wasn’t until later at dinner when Johanna spoke up.

“I don’t want to celebrate my birthday.”

Finnick and Annie darted their eyes between each other and their honorary oldest child. “Why not?” Johanna mumbled her answer. “What was that?”

“I said I don’t want to be older than Y/n! I don’t want to be 24 when she’s stuck at 23! She had so much ahead of her. I’m forgetting what she looks like, what she sounds like. I miss her laugh. At this point she might as well be a stranger. I had no right to cry.”

“Everyone has a right to cry Johanna, we do it. Tears don’t make you weak and you can designate time to cry but it doesn’t mean grieving is over. It comes and goes. We tell our kids about Y/n, they remember her through stories. They practically know everything about her at least from what we knew of her. We keep her alive that way.” Annie tells as Johanna pouts.

“It’s unfair.” Johanna says.

“Auntie Jo.” Your namesake called. “Mommy and daddy say we live for the people who cannot.” Johanna smiles hearing your words echo throughout the Odair family.

“Yeah even if we never met old Y/n, it’s like we still know her!” Their son joined in.

That was who you are now, a stranger the people around you know everything about and although it has its sad moments you live on through memory.

#the hunger games #Johanna Mason #Finnick Odair #annie cresta #Johanna Mason one shot #johanna mason angst #requested #johanna mason x fem!reader

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