#never thought about those details for her

[knavcsblade]

unprofessional.

+18!

cw: professor/dilf!arlecchino x student!reader. NOT highschool; both arlecchino and reader are adults. dom arle, sub r. overly descriptive. a lot of tension. age gap. power play (?). slight degradation. cunnilingus. 

wc: 3.4k

summary: professor arlecchino tutoring student reader who had fallen behind in class… and lesbian sex.

a/n: i couldn’t stop thinking about dilf arle as a professor… i would apologize, but i know this is a millionaire idea. plus, i haven’t written in ages and my fingers are now moving all over the keys like it’s nothing. i’m free!

Lessons have always been annoying—as far as you can recall—so much so that you would usually find yourself pouring your focus into the most insignificant things you could think of.

You would bring novels into class to read as the professor explained a new subject; you’d look out the window and process all the things you had to do on that very specific Tuesday afternoon; you would even take naps in between the prolonged sentences of that one teacher you simply couldn’t stand, for a reason that managed to escape you every time.

That was until the day the man was rumored to have been fired and replaced by another professional with more experience on the field—someone who most likely wouldn’t bore all the students to death.

Great, you thought, another male educator with an inflated ego who would roll his eyes at every inquiry from his pupils before proceeding to answer sarcastically just to make them feel witless. You were oh so excited for that.

The moment you looked up from your walnut desk, you already knew something was off. Everyone went silent as soon as the door opened—a common occurrence, though it felt different this time, especially since the clicking of heels echoed through the large room.

“Good morning, class,” those were the first three words that came from the new professor. The gravelly depth of her voice carried an air of authority that quickly forced everyone to put all their attention on the manner in which she approached her desk.

You were all in almost a chokehold in an instant, that was as clear as day. However, you seemed to be the most interested one out of the bunch by the way your eyes lingered on her form—on the way there was a lack of sway in her hips that you were unused to.

Most of the female scholars were nothing like her, and not just physically, you could already tell. She carried herself in a way that had you almost hypnotized, and you already knew you would be paying attention this time around.

There was a soft thud that bounced off the walls when she set her messenger briefcase on the dark wood of her new desk, eyes glimmering like coals in the darkness never leaving the class sitting before her. “Before we begin, introductions are indispensable,” her gaze flickered towards you for a few seconds before she spoke again.

That was… odd. You definitely looked like a deer in headlights to her now.

“I’m Arlecchino, and I’m afraid I will be your new professor from this moment onward… and no, I shall not disclose the details of your previous professor’s departure, before you ask.”

The auditorium had fallen silent the second she walked in, but due to the velvety, spellbinding tone of her voice, it seemed to grow even quieter. Of course, she had every student’s undivided attention at this point, but you found yourself staring at her for longer than would be considered appropriate.

The way she wore her suit captured your notice almost instantly. This was a common attire worn by every professor at the institute you attended, though hers was utterly captivating. The way the fabric clung onto her body, adding the way she carried herself… it was difficult for you to focus on her words at all, no matter how hard you tried.

And oh, her voice had you in a trance. The way the low vibrations of it echoed through the room sent shivers down your spine in a way you had never felt before. This person couldn’t be real…

You were so distracted by her you didn’t even realize the lesson was already over until you noticed the people around you beginning to stand up—Arlecchino taking a seat at her desk just to go through some papers she had taken out of her briefcase.

Much to your dismay, you were snapped out of your thoughts by this and, of course, her speaking. “Make sure to continue… hitting the books, as they say. In spite of your former professor’s leave-taking, the exam dates remain the same.”

The moment you got up and most of your peers had exited the room, you simply had to look at her for the last time. Truly, where did this woman come from? She was otherworldly, in your very honest opinion, and you were one hundred percent upset about having to make your way outside at that moment.

But oh, did you enjoy the lectures now.

You enjoyed her… them so much, the quality of your exam was abysmal. For her, even having to read the few words you wrote down felt like a punch in the gut, and she almost winced while going over it. However, who could blame you? Your last professor was truly someone who spoke and lulled you to sleep, and she was too distracting for you to even begin to comprehend the words that flowed out of her mouth.

The moment you picked up your test from her desk, you didn’t even look at it. You caught a glimpse of red inked scribbles all over the paper, clearly Arlecchino’s corrections, but you couldn’t bring yourself to even read what she had to say. You already knew you had messed up—what was the point?

You always told yourself you would simply ‘study more next time’; however, this was futile. All the subjects were related, so you practically were doomed to fail. You hadn’t the time to go over so many different things in just a few months.

The lesson began once you sat down, and one more time, your chin rested idly on the palm of your hand as you watched her. This was the sole reason you had underperformed on the exam, or so she thought.

She could almost vividly see the way her speech went in one of your ears and out the other, and in spite of her calm demeanor, it was slowly beginning to vex her. Were you truly this careless?

Of course, she kept an eye on you while she explained the intricacies of the new subject at hand, slowly pacing before the entirety of the class as she did her best to direct your attention to her words—not the way her steps allowed you to notice just how toned her frame was beneath the fabric of her suit.

The second everyone got up to leave the auditorium after long hours, you heard a soft “you”—one that oozed authority despite its calm tone. You already knew whose lips that simple word came out of. Naturally, you looked disoriented as you approached Arlecchino with your bag now hanging from your shoulder and heart beating so loud in your chest it might as well have been about to burst.

“Yes?”

Her gaze eventually turned to you, blackened hands gaining purchase on her own hips as she looked down at you. Finally, you could see her nails up close, one of the things you continued to ogle while sitting a few feet away from her, and you were more than fascinated by them now.

She cleared her throat to catch your focus once again after noticing it deviating from her face, and you would have been startled if only you hadn’t found her so attractive. “I have been informed that you are… one of the students who didn’t exactly pay attention to these classes previously. I wished to let you know you may come to me after lessons so I can clear any doubts you might have.”

Her eyes bored into yours as she spoke, and if you couldn’t hear your own heartbeat in your very ears, you would have assumed it had stopped completely. Educators were allowed to be mesmerizing, sure, but you had never found yourself being so… distracted by one.

“I’m positive you have quite a few of them, since I was told you spent most of your time dozing off or staring out the window at the previous professor’s lectures. Not to mention the way you seemed more than distracted in our last ones, unlike the other students…, and your failed exam.”

You immediately felt called out by her—who wouldn’t? Wasn’t this deeply embarrassing? This woman assumed you were, well, an uninterested fool, judging by her almost condescending tone. She already knew you had always been busy hearing her voice, but never truly listening to her. You felt your cheeks begin to burn from the shame.

“Yes, I…,” you cut yourself off to clear your throat, fist covering your mouth as you thought for a few seconds. Would you confirm her obvious assumptions about you, or reject her offer? Well, the answer was obvious. “I suppose it would do me good.”

“It would do your grades good,” her head tilted ever so slightly to the side as she spoke, piercing eyes solely focused on yours at all times. They were inhumanly beautiful yet hauntingly distant; despite this obvious nature, you couldn’t look away. “I don’t particularly enjoy the idea of my students falling behind.”

That said, a vocal sigh left her parted lips and filled the room in an instant. 

“We will meet at the library, yes? Perhaps I can… enlighten you for once.”

And so she did. She would spend hours on end trying to get certain things through your pretty little head, often having to literally snap you out of your thoughts. You spent long periods watching the way she held her garnet fountain pen instead of listening to her, and this was becoming tiresome.

You could practically hear her jaw clenching as you quietly giggled and lied through your teeth. “Don’t worry, I understand” and “yes, that makes sense” were things you would say time and again, even if Arlecchino hadn’t been speaking for minutes.

In a way, she found you… amusing, albeit irritating. The situation wasn’t one she was used to, even after years of being an important scholar of Teyvat.

You thought you weren’t being so blatant, though she caught on the reason for your absentmindedness pretty quickly. She would notice even the smallest of details about your actions, like the way your gaze would drop to her lips as she spoke, or how you continued to bite the inside of your cheek—it was almost as if you were somewhere in between reality and some different plane of existence.

She didn’t blame you, however. You were very clearly infatuated with her, and oh, did she find it sweet.

The only issue with these private lessons was that neither of you had considered the fact that the library closed once a month for the staff to conduct a book recount. The first Friday this took place, Arlecchino found herself having to simply invite you to her home so you could both resume your routine.

This wasn’t exactly inappropriate, at least not to her. It was fairly common for her colleagues to take the students who needed the most support to their places so they could perform their duties as tutors to them—you were utterly flustered, however.

You had ‘sneakily’ gotten information out of her about her personal life, like how she had adopted three children a few years back, or how she had a beautiful garden with rainbow roses she enjoyed taking care of before making her way to the institute. None of that could ever compare to setting foot into her house, fully missing those children she had mentioned before.

You now sat at the desk in her study, cross-legged with your tightly clasped hands resting on your lap and Arlecchino sitting before you. You desperately wished to look around—to take in the way she had decorated the room and maybe catch onto small details of hers she wouldn’t confess. However, you kept your gaze on her the entire time. Furniture could wait, could it not?

“I apologize for the… chaos,” her voice rumbled as she focused on putting away the scattered papers all over the large desk into a folder.

All you did was wave your hand dismissively in response, and if you weren’t looking so intently, you would have missed the way the corners of her lips lifted with utmost subtlety.

Your books were covering the mahogany wood in minutes, Arlecchino slightly leaned in as the crimson crosses in her eyes focused on the words plastered on the pages. She could definitely feel you studying her form more than you would ever study the sentences sitting right in front of you. She had had enough now.

Her voice pulled you out of your head in an instant, doe-eyed as you hummed. It took you a few seconds to register her question, the usual “did you understand?”

“Oh, uh… yes, absolutely.”

“Do it, then,” she said, leaning back with crossed arms and brows furrowed slightly enough to make you press your lips together instinctively.

It was clear you were puzzled at her words. You hadn’t heard what she had uttered before, and she just knew it.

“I’m… sorry, what?”

To this, all she did was exhale deeply through her nose and begin to organize all the books and papers you had placed on her desk. Her patient demeanor was beginning to falter, and all due to you.

“Get on the desk. Don’t make me repeat myself again.” Her answer was simple, and the way she said it left no room for hesitation whatsoever.

She put all your belongings aside to rest her palms on the edge of the furniture, getting up with a swift movement that made her chair roll back and give her enough room to wait for you to do what she had commanded. It was clear there was a plan in her mind, one about what she would do to you the second you obeyed, and it was nerve-racking.

Oh, well. Who were you to not do as she said? Especially when her gaze lingered on yours expectantly.

You slowly made your way towards her, hands trembling as you used them to prop yourself up and now find yourself sitting atop her desk in pure silence. Your legs were pressed together, naturally, since you had decided to wear a skirt due to the hot weather that had taken place merely a couple of weeks earlier. You didn’t wish to expose yourself before her, or did you?

“You know, dear,” she started as she drew closer, the nickname as well as the manner in which her hand found its way towards your thigh making your heart race in what could only be anticipation, “you aren’t good at listening, or understanding what I regularly explain to you… or keeping your focus on something other than me.”

At that moment, everything around you seemed to vanish. She was now so close you could feel the heat of her body against yours and her breath tickling your face. Somehow, before you could even react at all, she stood between your spread legs as her blackened hand snaked its way under the fabric of your skirt.

Could your poor heart even take all of this?

“I’m sure you aren’t even paying attention to what I’m saying right now, are you?”

“Sorry, you… you’re too close. I can’t…,” you didn’t even finish your sentence, but not due to her. It was all because your mind could only concentrate on the way her nails uniformly dug into the plush skin of your thigh.

“You can’t… what? Think? Of course you can’t,” she muttered in response, knowing she needn’t speak louder considering the closeness between you two.

It didn’t take her long to shatter this small distance, however. She leaned in impossibly closer, giving you all the time in the world to pull away if you wished to do so—if she had been stupid enough to misunderstand the whole situation. Yet, as the seconds passed, you didn’t. Obviously. 

Her other hand managed to gain purchase on your waist to pull you in and meet her lips halfway, wrapping you in a kiss as unhurried and torturous as it was passionate and hungry. And oh, the way you finally let out the breath you weren’t aware of holding through your nose the instant you tasted her only made her fully press herself against you.

You let her in eventually, a whimper betraying you as she fervently explored your mouth and her fingers wrapped around the hem of your underwear to slide it down your legs. She couldn’t find herself caring about anything other than giving you what you had wanted in such a desperate manner since you first saw her, even more so ever since you had managed to grow on her so easily.

She thought you were simply… almost adorable. The way you drooled every time your eyes landed on her was something she found more than entertaining, and she wished to see how many reactions she could pull out of you with uncomplicated deeds.

Arlecchino only pulled away to kneel before you, and you couldn’t help but notice the fine thread of saliva that connected your lips before it snapped once her face waited right in front of your unclothed, drenched cunt. She watched you in silence, crimson eyes now turning darker at the sight of your desperate expression.

You just wanted her to ravish you, didn’t you?

All she had to do was lift your legs up to rest on her shoulders just so her tongue could finally roll between your folds and soak in your fluids fully. This took longer than you were hoping for, but once it did, your head lolled back at the feeling.

This was followed by you dragging a moan out of the depths of your throat, an action that made her hold tightly onto your thighs since she could already tell you would be the type to squirm and make a mess only from getting eaten out.

The pretty noises coming from you the moment she found that sweet bundle of nerves only made her react by digging her nails into the warm skin of your thighs and shoving her face even further into you. Her nose was pressed against your mound, and the sensation of the small hairs pricking on it made the feeling even more enjoyable for her.

She seemed to eat your pussy out like a woman starved—one not afraid to pour the entirety of her silent desire onto you and watch you relish it in its entirety. She could even feel the mixture of your wetness and her saliva beginning to drip down her chin and pour onto her pants to stain them in the future, all the while she lapped against your sensitive clit.

Long minutes full of moans, whimpers, and your hand tangling in her hair passed when you felt that well-known heat forming in your lower stomach. You couldn’t ignore it, and neither could she. Arlecchino could simply tell how close you were to an orgasm just from the way your legs squeezed her head every once in a while.

“Fuck… fuck, Arlecchino, please,” a strained plea that was interrupted by a mewl left your mouth which hung open for her to hear you.

Between lewd slurps and wet noises, her eyes found yours for what probably was less than a second. This managed to get you to clench around nothing as a loud moan filled the air.

“How vulgar,” came the only muffled response from her, though she lacked the sharpness of her usual tone. She was absolutely pussy-drunk at this point, only focused on bringing you to ecstasy with her tongue and claws carving crescent moons into your thighs.

It didn’t take you long to find your release, twitching and holding onto absolutely anything on that desk to keep yourself from fully resting on it. Even at the peak of your orgasm she didn’t let go of you; she was entranced by making sure she licked you clean of all your juices no matter what. It became overwhelming at one point—the way she made sure to swallow your climax solely made you wish this would have happened sooner.

Once she was done enjoying your taste, she slowly got up to wipe the remains of your loud crescendo with the back of her hand, red crosses finding your pupils though she knew you were more than out of your five senses.

“I do hope that, after this, you will pay more attention to our future lessons, dear,” her voice was somewhat deeper, and it forced you to nod through your exhaustion.

You would definitely focus on her words from now on.

[cloudwisp]

𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮 𝐠𝐨𝐣𝐨 · (𝐡𝐢𝐬) 𝐥𝐚𝐝𝐲 𝐥𝐮𝐜𝐤

contents: fluff. early twenties + first year of marriage. found family. gojo’s entire day shifts when you forget to wear your wedding ring. 900 wc.

“Eehh—?” You can faintly hear the noise Satoru let out coming from your shared bedroom, and you know he’d approach you about the situation sooner or later. You remain seated in bated breath as he stands with rounded shoulders before your dresser, cerulean hues staring down at your jewelry ceramic tray. And unmistakably there sits a wedding band with a large gemstone glinting at him under the warmth of the golden rays filtering through the curtains. He had a strong feeling there was a reason for his off-morning and this must’ve been it.

A noticeable pout rests on his lower lip and his hands are shoved in the pockets of his sorcerer’s uniform as he slowly climbs down the stairs. You glance over your shoulder from the couch with Tsumiki seated with her legs folded under her while you finish off her braid, and he looks like a kicked puppy the closer he treads. With a small pat on the young girl’s head, you send her to find her brother in his bedroom for breakfast.

“Oh good morning, baby. Why the long face, hm?” You shift your body toward him with an unperturbed smile, but Satoru sulks where he settles on the couch beside you in a manspread. “I’m almost certain I didn’t forget your morning kisses this time, even gave you more than plenty to last the day. Might I add the extra five or was it fifteen minutes of cuddling you so insisted on.” You tease with a gentle poke to his cheek, but nothing seems to be budging him and you think something terrible has happened. Though your husband’s jutted pout is adorable enough to maintain a lighthearted mood.

“No, but you did forget something.” Satoru sighs with a small shake of his head, letting on a weight of seriousness that makes you breathe out a curious ‘oh?’ at what that could be. With a tilt of your head, you watch his movements as he reveals the wedding ring he proposed to you with from the depths of his pocket. He twirls the silver band between his fingers and relief washes over you because you genuinely thought you had done something grave. “Found it on your jewelry dish. Don’t forget to wear it, princess.”

“Ah, so that's what’s bothering you.” You soften as your head leans against him with your arm looping around his, your left hand coming up so he can slip it back onto your finger. He does so with delicate care, and you offer him an explanation of taking it off before showering while he went for a run because you were afraid it'd fall down into the drain and forgot to put it back on. With having two pre-teenagers taken under both your wings, it’s easy to neglect these small details but you have noted to be more mindful next time.

Satoru hums with a chaste kiss on your forehead, intertwining your fingers together in a sweet hold as his thumb brushes against your skin. “Just don’t want anyone else to think you’re up for grabs. It’s not me who gets all the attention when we’re out together, you know.” He can perfectly recall those encounters where not only random strangers would make advances on you, but also cute grannies wanting to set you up with their grandson. He’s gone for one minute to collect your favorite snacks and you’re not how he left you when he returns.

“Oh Satoru, you still haven’t gotten over that yet? It happened two or three times and I think they were just being polite.” Satoru knew you would say that but allows you to have your own beliefs as you reach over to playfully pinch his cheek with a soft laugh. But you suppose it’s endearing seeing him jealous over something that happened years ago when he has nothing to worry about. “What am I going to do with you?”

“Hmm, that’s an easy one. Never let me go?” He answers with a quickness that causes your heart to flutter, and sure enough he’s reverting back to being your lovable and charming husband. “Besides, having a beautiful and hot wife means that I have to protect and take care of what’s mine.” And he means more than fending off idiots trying to get your number, but also from being potentially targeted by cursed users because you’re someone of great importance to the Gojo clan leader.

“There’s a much better way to handle that. I could just let everyone know I’m happily married to the best guy ever.” Satoru doesn’t hide the smug look overtaking his features before nuzzling his face into your neck and pressing light kisses on your pulse point.

“Heh, flattery won’t get you off the hook.” He drags you impossibly close with his large hand wrapped around your hip. His onslaught of kisses continues along your face and you both fall back on the cushions of the couch and he revels in your giggles. After a moment, Satoru meets your gaze again and sweeps strands of hair away to see more of you. “And I love seeing that ring on your finger. Reminds me of something real special between us and that you chose to be with me.”

“I meant what I said earlier, by the way.” You gently take his hand cradling your face and place it over your chest with an earnest squeeze. “You are the best husband I could ever ask for. Love you, baby.” Satoru leans down to capture your lips sweetly at first, then chases after its softness for little pecks and murmurs how much he loves you back. And from the bottom of the steps of the staircase are the Fushiguro siblings sharing a knowing glance before entering the room to help with breakfast.

꒰ note ᰔ satoru always wears his wedding band on his finger and around his neck when he’s fighting against cursed spirits. ꒱

[bruhnze]

Personal Records - Chapter 8

Summary: time skip! 🤰

Warnings: none

Wc: 7k he he and the next part is already in the making too 🙃

Personal Records Masterlist.

It was February 2033, and nobody knew yet.. just Lucy and Ona.

As they drove toward the clinic for their six-week ultrasound, Lucy rested her hand gently on Ona’s thigh, the spot where it belonged. If everything was as it should be, Ona was six weeks pregnant now. Four weeks ago, they’d taken the official pregnancy test at the clinic, confirming what they had both hoped for. They had done a few at-home tests too, but because of the hormone injections Ona had needed leading up to the fertilization, they had to wait on the clinic one for a definitive result.

But even before the official test, Ona had told Lucy she felt it.. she knew it.. it was that same fluttering sensation in her stomach she had felt before. She hadn’t remembered it exactly, not until it came back, and then she knew it instantly. When Ona shared that with Lucy, they’d cried together, tears of joy and awe. It was so special to relive those emotions together again, it felt like they were reliving how it had been with Oliver and Lucas.

They had spent hours talking about the two previous times they’d found out they were expecting, recalling the smallest details.

Since then, Lucy had noticed a shift in Ona. She’d become needier, in the sweetest way. Her hand would reach for Lucy’s more often, seeking touch, a hug, or a kiss. Lucy welcomed it. It had been the same during Ona’s other pregnancies, and she cherished the opportunity to be there for her wife in this intimate way. It warmed Lucy’s heart, it was like their bond was deepening again in this new chapter, and she would never take for granted that she was the person to share this with Ona.

..

“Two what?” Ona and Lucy repeated in unison, their voices sounding with equal parts confusion and disbelief.

The doctor chuckled softly, glancing between them. “I recognize two gestational sacs,” he repeated calmly.

“Which means...?” Lucy pressed, her tone growing tight with nerves. Her eyes darted down to their joined hands, noticing how her own was turning pale under Ona’s firm grip.

“There is a high likelihood of two embryos,” the doctor explained matter-of-factly. He removed the transducer from Ona’s stomach, cleaned it methodically with alcohol, and placed it back on the ultrasound device.

Lucy froze, her mind spinning. Two? Two babies? How?

“Do you mean... twins?” Ona asked, her voice quiet and laced with disbelief.

The doctor nodded, offering Ona tissues to wipe away the cool gel from her abdomen. “That’s correct. I looked more closely because I thought I detected two heartbeats. While we’ll confirm with greater certainty later on, I’d confidently say this is a biparous pregnancy. The second sac is partially hidden behind the first.” He gestured toward the paused black-and-white ultrasound image on the screen.

Both women stared at the monitor, their eyes big with disbelieve.

The doctor clarified, pointing to the faint outlines on the image, “Which, yes, means twins.”

Turning back toward the bin, he peeled off his blue gloves and tossed them away.

For the first time since hearing the news, Ona and Lucy turned to look at each other.

Lucy’s face betrayed her growing stress, but Ona’s expression was harder to decipher. There was disbelief, sure, but also something else Lucy couldn’t quite name.

Tilting her head slightly, Lucy silently urged Ona to share what was on her mind.

“It won’t be alone,” Ona whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “You said... you... Sophie.”

Lucy’s smile softened, and she gently ran her thumb over Ona’s knuckles. Even though Ona wasn’t making much sense, Lucy understood her immediately. Ona was thinking about the dynamics within their family—the age gap between their older sons and the new kid... well kids.. now. Sophie, Lucy’s younger sister, sometimes told story’s about how she had Lucy had always known it was true; she and Jorge had naturally gravitated toward playing together, often leaving Sophie out.

But she believed they could do things differently. She and Ona could nurture a bond between all their children, creating a dynamic where everyone felt included. Her mother’s old adage, ‘Life isn’t fair,’ didn’t have to apply... they could do it their own way. Lucy believed in bending the rules, rewriting them to make life kinder, more just—for her family, at least.

“So,” the doctor said, interrupting her thoughts as he turned back from washing his hands at the sink, “I would recommend ultrasounds at eight, ten, and twelve weeks as well. This will help us monitor their growth closely and ensure both embryos are developing normally.” He hesitated, as though weighing his next words carefully. “I should tell you that the likelihood of this pregnancy continuing with two embryos is lower than the chances of a singleton. Statistically, at this stage, the probability of both embryos thriving is about 30%. There’s around 60% chance it becomes a singleton pregnancy.”

Ona swallowed hard, her voice barely above a whisper. “So... 10% chance of...?” She trailed off, unwilling to finish the sentence.

Lucy took a deep breath. “Is there anything we can do to... help increase the chances of both embryos surviving?”

The doctor tilted his head thoughtfully, considering her question. “The most significant factor is the quality and strength of the embryos, which is something you can’t control. However,” he continued with a small nod, “reducing stress, getting plenty of rest, and maintaining good nutrition are always beneficial.”

He paused, his gaze shifting toward Ona with a faint smile. “I will add that your overall health is excellent. Your test results are remarkable—your bloodwork, in particular, is outstanding.” His smile grew warmer as he finished, clearly meaning every word.

Ona exhaled slowly, her fingers tightening slightly around Lucy’s. Despite the uncertainty, Lucy could feel the hope growing between them.

..

Ona stepped in to the car as Lucy held the door open for her on the passenger side, ‘’are you going to be like this again?’’ Ona chuckled.

Lucy smiled, ‘’yup.’’  

After carefully shutting the car door Lucy walked around the car and got in, ‘’have to take care of you guys.’’

Ona blushed, ‘’imagine if it will really be twins.’’

Lucy zipped her coat open and turned to face her wife, ‘’thirty percent chance.’’ She hummed, studying Ona’s face.

‘’Imagine,’’ Ona laughed and shook her head in disbelieve, ‘’Luce.. how will we do it.’’

Lucy chuckled, ‘’well.. I’m glad we are in a good place financially.’’

Ona tilted her head, her eyes going wide as she realized, ‘’oh noo, we’d have to buy new cars… and the house.. my plan.. we’ll have to do it earlier then planned.’’

‘’What?’’ Lucy was very confused, Ona was speaking very incoherent this morning.

‘’For after our retirement,’’ Ona started, ‘’I have blueprints for an easy conversion to create a downstairs suite.. bedroom like we have upstairs now.. on the ground floor.’’

Lucy bit her lip.

‘’That empty space near the hall on the eastern flank,’’ Ona looked at her with sparkly eyes, it was always like that when she spoke about buildings, Lucy could only smile as she let her wife rattle, ‘’that's where I had the water and electricity connections run to.. which was very difficult at the time, but I told them it really had to be done... well, there’s foundation there too, the only reason I haven't had the room and bathroom built there yet in case we want to live somewhere else when we were old.. but it would take maximum a few months for the space to be added there for us.’’

‘’I don’t know why, but that’s so romantic to me,’’ Lucy blushed.

‘’What?’’ Ona looked back at Lucy, pulled out of her thoughts.

‘’That you thought ahead and.. made plans for our retirement.’’ Lucy smiled, taking Ona’s hand and pressing a kiss to it, ‘’Oliver will be thrilled to take our bedroom, I can already see it.’’ She laughed.

Ona nodded, ‘’though we will still have a problem, because the playroom doesn’t have a bathroom.’’

‘’Maybe the twins will get.. uh.. assuming there will be twins..’’ Lucy had to try hard to not already imagine two babies joining their family, ‘’they would have the rooms Ollie and Lucas have now.. those are identical..’’

‘’And Oliver in the playroom?’’

‘’Yeah because the playroom is a nice room, its big so he will like it,’’ Lucy nodded, ‘’and our bathroom has a door to the hallway, so Ollie and him can just share.’’

Ona nodded as the thoughts started to form in her head. ‘’We’d have to add a door on Ollies side then.’’

‘’Mhm, but we’ve got a couple years,’’ Lucy smiled, ‘’they wont need their own rooms the second they’re born.’’

Ona laughed.

‘’When I grew up we shared one bathroom with all five of us.’’ Lucy stated, ‘’we will have four bathrooms for six people.’’

Ona looked at Lucy with big eyes, ‘’oh my god.’’ She gasped.

‘’What?’’ Lucy asked as Ona didn’t continue.

‘’We will be outnumbered big time.. what if they’re all teenagers and start a riot against us.’’ Ona said with a breathy laugh.

Lucy chuckled, ‘’a riot?’’

Ona nodded earnestly, ‘’what if it will be two boys.. four boys.. can we manage four boys?’’ she said, almost pleading.

‘’I like to think we’re doing quite a good job raising them..’’ Lucy laughed, ‘’d’you already have pregnancy brain?’’ she joked, bringing Ona’s hand back to her mouth and pressing a couple of kisses to her knuckles again, ‘’they wont riot against us, and if they try something.. I can take them.’’ She leaned forward to flex her bicep, though her arms were covered by all the clothes she was wearing.

Ona giggled, ‘’okay, I don’t know why the thought crossed my mind, lets hope it doesn’t come to a point of you having to challenge our kids to a fistfight.’’

‘’Our kids wouldn’t harm a fly,’’ Lucy laughed, ‘’have you met Oliver? If I raise an eyebrow at him when he knows he’s doing something naughty he almost cries.’’

‘’Yeah Oliver has a big conscience,’’ Ona smiled, ‘’I think we will have more troubles with Lucas, once he’ll get older.’’

‘’Mmm,’’ Lucy nodded, ‘’he already has us wrapped ‘round his little finger.’’

‘’Maybe it’ll be two girls,’’ Ona mused, ‘’then we’d have two boys and two girls.’’

‘’God, when you say it like it sounds so much,’’ Lucy chuckled, ‘’two and two.. four kids.’’

Ona nodded at her wife, feeling the same, ‘’it’s actually crazy.’’

The sound of a phone ringing broke their moment.  

They both reached for their phone, though it turned out to be Ona’s.

‘Hi Soph.’’ Ona answered.

‘’Yeah I had an appointment.’’

‘’No, I know, it wasn’t to do with a client.’’

‘’Sophia.’’ Ona said sternly, making Lucy bite her lip to stifle a laugh, ‘’any reason you called me?’’

‘’mhm.’’

‘’okay.’’

‘’uh, I’ll be back in-‘’

‘’no, no, I will do it when I’m back.’’

‘’twenty minutes.’’

‘’Okay, bye Soph.’’

‘’No, no, don’t worry, I know you didn’t-‘’

‘’Yes, see you in twenty.’’

Ona declined the call with a sigh, leaning her head back against the seat. “Get me back to my office,” she muttered.

Lucy chuckled as she started the car. “As you wish, ma’am,” she teased with a grin.

Ona smiled at the joke but then exhaled deeply. “I was thinking we could tell people at twenty weeks, like we did before but Soph is already asking questions.”

“Twenty weeks,” Lucy echoed thoughtfully. Their last two pregnancies had both been their own little secret for twenty weeks before they’d shared the news with the world, but this time might be different.. if Ona was carrying twins. “We can still try to do that.. but if it’s actually twins, there’s a good chance you’ll show earlier.” She shot Ona a playful look. “But we could always just say we’ve been eating too many snacks.”

“We?” Ona arched a brow.

“Well… you,” Lucy said with a laugh, pulling out of the parking lot.

Ona chuckled softly. “We’ll see.”

Lucy grinned. “And as for Soph, you can just say it was an appointment with me.”

Ona nodded, but skepticism crept into her expression. “Yeah, but what kind of appointment would I have with you at eleven in the morning?”

“Uh.. dentist? ..hospital? ..coffee date? … uhm.. a quick hookup?” Lucy quipped. ‘’there’s many excuses to think of.’’

Ona shook her head, rolling her eyes. “Oh, sure. I’ll tell Soph we took a break for a quick hookup.”

“I mean.. she’d believe it.. she wouldn’t ask further questions..’’ Lucy shrugged, playing innocence before continuing on a more serious note, ‘’But it’s a good thing our next appointments are scheduled around lunchtime. What did you put them as in your calendar?”

“You chica loca,” Ona replied, shaking her head. “yeah I put them in as lunch with you.” She laughed lightly. “I thought we could actually grab lunch, too. It’ll be nice.”

‘’Mhm, that’s nice,’’ Lucy’s hand rested on Ona’s thigh. “I’m actually so excited to spend some extra time with just the two of us.”

Ona smirked, turning to Lucy. “Just the two of us?”

Lucy frowned for a second, then caught on. “Ahh, I mean… with all of you,” she said, her hand moving to Ona’s stomach. She pushed aside Ona’s coat and tugged her blouse free from her waistband.

Ona made a half-hearted attempt to stop her. “Luce,” she whined, “your hand is cold.”

Lucy withdrew her hand with a sheepish grin, rubbing it briskly and blowing warm air in to it. “It’s not that cold,” she said, sliding her hand back under the layers, her palm finding the warm skin of Ona’s stomach.

Ona shivered slightly at the contact but accepted her faith and rested her own hand over Lucy’s.

…

Ten weeks later.

The weeks had gone by well, they had managed to keep everything a secret and Ona said she hadn’t felt too bad – but Lucy noticed her morning sickness was worst then her two pregnancies before. But she didn’t tell Ona to take more rest or what to do, because she knew Ona hated that, instead she focused on supporting her however she could.

The twelve week ultrasound had been perfect, as where all the others before that. Lucy remembered exactly what the doctor had said at the twelve week ultrasound, ‘Good news! Both embryos are growing beautifully. At this stage, we’re seeing strong, consistent heartbeats for each one, and their development is right on track. This means you can expect twins.’

Lucy would never forget those words. Twins. It was one more baby than they had imagined, but now that it was real, she wouldn’t have it any other way. She was over the moon, already picturing their future with two new little ones in it.

What surprised Lucy was how relaxed Ona was about everything. She seemed happier and more content than Lucy had expected. Watching her embrace it all so calmly left Lucy in awe.

Now, they sat together in the clinic waiting room, waiting to be called in for the sixteen-week ultrasound. This one felt significant—not only because it was another chance to see their babies, but because they had decided it was finally time to share the news after this one mainly because it became really hard for Ona to hide her belly. She hadn’t worn tight clothes in weeks.

Tonight, they planned to tell the grandparents. Ona’s parents were coming over for dinner, and Lucy’s would join the reveal via FaceTime. The boys, who were still blissfully unaware, would find out too.

The only one who seemed to know so far, apart from Lucy and Ona, was Canela. The dog had been acting strangely ever since Ona had gotten pregnant. She’d taken to curling up in Ona’s lap whenever she could, resting her head protectively on her belly. Outdoors, instead of running and playing with the boys, she stuck close to Ona’s side, almost like a little guardian. Lucy found it utterly adorable and was convinced Canela knew. Ona, however, chalked it up to coincidence, though she didn’t seem to mind the dog’s newfound attachment.

Ona had been careful to avoid seeing Soph too much these past few weeks. Her PA had an uncanny knack for reading her, and Ona was certain she’d catch on if they spent too much time together. But Soph would find out tomorrow, after they’d shared the news with their parents.

Lucy glanced at Ona, who was scrolling idly on her phone, looking as relaxed as ever. They were so close now to telling everyone, her own mind was racing, she was so excited.

…

The doctor opened the door, scanning the near-empty waiting room before his eyes landed on them. “Mrs. Bronze-Batlle,” he greeted with a warm smile.

After a quick exchange of pleasantries, Ona found herself back on the exam table for what was now the fifth ultrasound for this pregnancy. The doctor squeezed gel onto her stomach, the chill pulling her out of her thoughts.

“Let’s see how they’re doing,” he said, adjusting the machine with practiced ease, his tone carrying a hint of excitement.

Lucy sat close, her hand resting protectively on Ona’s thigh. She was fond of their doctor, who had been part of their journey since the beginning, eight years ago. His expertise and passion for his work shone through in every interaction. Choosing a private clinic had been Ona’s preference, but Lucy had agreed wholeheartedly—when it came to their children, nothing less than the best would do.

“Everything all right so far?” the doctor asked as he guided the transducer over Ona’s stomach, his focus fixed on the screen. “Any troubles or questions?”

Lucy nudged Ona gently. “Tell him about the pressure, babe.”

“Oh, right.” Ona smiled sheepishly. “The smaller one in the back—the one you said was hiding—could it be that it’s more active? I feel like it’s pushing against me sometimes.”

The doctor nodded thoughtfully. “When did it start?”

“About two weeks ago?” Ona glanced at Lucy for confirmation.

“Sixteen days ago,” Lucy supplied with a small smile.

“Well,” the doctor said, stepping aside to point at the monitor, “it seems the babies have shifted positions. The larger one has moved slightly toward the back, and the smaller one is now more to the front. Here—do you see these two heads?” He traced vague shapes on the screen. “This is the spine of the bigger one, and…” Something flickered on the screen. “Ah, here’s a foot.”

The doctor quickly tapped a few buttons, capturing an image. “Did you catch that?” he asked.

Lucy chuckled, leaning closer. “Wait, did it just kick its sibling?”

Ona burst out laughing, and the vibrations from her laugh made the image on the screen wobble.

The doctor lifted the transducer momentarily and pressed more buttons. “I recorded it—look.”

Ona and Lucy both focused on the playback as the smaller baby’s foot kicked toward the larger one.

“That’s so wild,” Lucy said, shaking her head. “Sibling rivalry already.”

The doctor smiled and continued the scan. “As usual, I’m checking for any anomalies,” he said, his tone now serious but calm. “Organs, limbs, growth patterns—” He paused and looked up at them. “Do you two want to know the genders?”

Lucy and Ona exchanged a glance before nodding enthusiastically. “Yes, please,” Lucy said.

“Well, I can confirm one for now,” the doctor said, glancing back at the screen. “The smaller one here—she moved when you laughed, Ona. And here, you can see it clearly: she’s a little girl.”

“Her…” Ona whispered, her voice cracking. “Dues filles?”

The doctor smiled warmly. “They have separate placentas, so the other baby could be either a boy or a girl. But one is definitely a girl.”

Ona tugged Lucy’s hand, drawing her attention away from the monitor. Lucy turned to find Ona’s eyes shining with unshed tears, mirroring her own. They shared a tender smile.

A girl.

Lucy’s mind filled with images of a tiny Ona, and her heart swelled at the thought.

“Was that the smaller one or the larger one?” Ona asked softly.

“The smaller one,” the doctor replied as he continued to navigate the transducer, taking measurements of both babies. “And overall, they both look very healthy. Their organs and spines are developing normally, and their head sizes are proportionate to the rest of their bodies.”

“Is the larger one more likely to be a boy?” Ona asked curiously.

The doctor shook his head. “Not necessarily—it could go either way.”

“Can you check for that one too?” Lucy asked, squinting at the screen as if trying to make sense of the blurry shapes.

“I just had a clear view of the one in front,” the doctor explained gently. “But even she’s shifted slightly. They’re both quite active, which is a very good sign. Plenty of fluid, lots of movement—they’re strong babies.”

Lucy leaned down to kiss Ona’s temple. “Strong, just like their mom,” she murmured, earning a warm smile from Ona.

Their doctor smiled at the interaction as he finished the scan and took his gloves of to begin typing down some notes.

‘’Oh ens podria donar més còpies de l’ecografia?’’ Ona said, suddenly remembering she’d been wanting to ask an extra copy of  Li direm als meus pares aquesta nit.’’

‘'Clar, cap problema,’’ the doctor smiled, ‘’did you manage to keep it a secret?’’

Lucy nodded, ‘’mhm.’’

‘’Barely,’’ Ona chuckled, ‘’I have been avoiding people and wearing wide clothes, but we wanted to take our time.. but the sixteen week mark is good, no?’’

The doctor nodded with a reassuring smile, folding his hands. “Yes, the sixteen-week mark is an excellent moment. The risk of complications has decreased significantly. You’ve also had consistent, positive results with your ultrasounds, which is an indicator of healthy development.’’

…

‘’are you sure you want me to bring you to work?’’ Lucy asked as she pulled of from the parking lot, ‘’I can bring you home too? Then you can rest a little bit before tonight?’’

Ona shook her head, ‘’I have some things to do still, besides, my car is at my work.. and it’s my day to get the boys from school.’’

Lucy threated her fingers through Ona’s and brought her hand up to press a couple of kisses to it, ‘’I can bring you to your car and get the boys from school this afternoon.’’

‘’Luce,’’ Ona wiggled her hand free from Lucy’s, ‘’I’m four months pregnant, not nine.’’

‘’Sorry,’’ Lucy said softly, now placing her hand on Ona’s knee, ‘’you know I mean well, I’m not trying to control what you do.’’

Ona took Lucy’s hand back and moved it on top of her stomach, ‘’I know, and we love you, but we’re fine.’’

‘’I love you too,’’ Lucy smiled, though she kept her eyes on the road, ‘’and I already love our little ones so much too.’’

‘’Can you believe one is a girl,’’ Ona smiled, looking at Lucy.

Lucy smiled and nodded, ‘’I know baby, at least one girl.’’

‘’Have you thought about names?’’ Ona asked, fixing her gaze back on the road, thinking about it too.

‘’yeah we need two names,’’ Lucy looked at her chuckling, ‘’well, we know now ones a girl name.. then we can think for a boys name and a girls name that suits with it.’’

‘’Would you say its crazy to call our daughter Sofía.. like with an ��f’ but naming her after-

-soph’’. Lucy said softly. ‘’wow.’’

‘’Do you think that’s… like.. insensitive? ..because she doesn’t have kids?’’ Ona asked.

Lucy bit her lip as she thought about it, ‘’mm she said she didn’t want them right?’’

‘’Yeah but you never know..’’ Ona said softly, ‘’shall we propose it to her, invite her to dinner some time when we know the other ones gender too.. and then say we would be honored to name her after her.’’

‘’Yeah, I actually love the idea.. I mean.. Soph is the reason we know eachother.’’ Lucy said.

Ona chuckled, ‘’yeah.. but also besides that, she just means so much to me.. to us I think.’’

‘’Yeah I love her, she’s like family.’’ Lucy nodded, ‘’and Sofía is a pretty name, suits with Ollie and Lucas too.’’

‘’D’you think it’s a boy or a girl? The other one?’’ Ona asked.

‘’What do you think?’’ Lucy asked back, ‘’I mean.. it could go both ways.’’

‘’I have a feeling it’s two girls.’’ Ona smiled, ‘’but it’s based on nothing.. maybe I’m just wishful thinking.

‘’it’s a fifty percent chance,’’ Lucy shrugged, ‘’maybe your feeling is right.’’

‘’I’ll be happy with either.’’ Ona said, leaning back in to her seat.

‘’It’s a miracle no one has noticed yet.’’ Lucy chuckled, spotting Ona’s bulging stomach.

‘’Mmm,’’ Ona hummed, ‘’I’m relaxing right now, when I’m at work I don’t have it out like this.’’

Lucy chuckled.

‘’Do you think my boobs have gotten bigger?’’ Ona asked, coming completely out of the blue for Lucy.

Lucy raised her eyebrows, her gaze involuntarily traveling to Ona’s chest, ‘’it’d have to inspect that later to give a good answer.’’

Ona laughed, ‘’so you haven’t noticed something.’’

‘’Maybe I haven’t been looking enough,’’ Lucy smirked, ‘’I’ll be sure to pay closer attention.’’

‘’I have been wearing my comfier bras,’’ Ona sighed, ‘’think I have done all my maternity clothes away actually.. I have to go buy some new stuff.’’

‘’Mmm,’’ Lucy nodded, ‘’I’ve noticed you’ve been wearing my stuff more.’’

‘’Yeah, sorry.’’ Ona smirked apologetically,

Lucy shook her head, ‘’no, no, I love it.’’

Ona blushed as a smile tugged at her lips. ‘’It’s comfy and it fits.’’

‘’See, all plusses, for all I care you can have my whole wardrobe and I can wear my work clothes for the rest of time.’’ Lucy said, turning in to the street of Ona’s office.

‘’I don’t want you to leave,’’ Ona whined, ‘’I want to cuddle.’’

‘’Do you want me to walk you to your office?’’ Lucy asked, rubbing Ona’s thigh, ‘’I can give you a hug.’’

Ona nodded, ‘’only if you can.. don’t you have clients?’’

Lucy looked at her phone to see her schedule, there was still some time, and even if there hadn’t been, she’d be late any day when it came to Ona. ‘’I have about fifteen minutes.’’

Ona smiled in contentment.

..

‘’Hi Ona!’’ Soph shouted from one of the office boxes they passed, ‘’oh my god, how are you, feel like I  haven’t seen you in-‘’ Sophia caught up with them, ‘’Lucy?’’

Ona and Lucy smiled sheepishly.

‘’Hi Soph,’’ Lucy said, ‘’how are you.’’

Sophia looked suspiciously between the pair, ‘’what’s wrong?’’ she asked carefully.

‘’Nothing, we had lunch and Lucy is walking me to my office because we were still in conversation.’’ Ona replied coldly.

‘’Troubles in paradise?’’ Sophia joked carefully.

Lucy chuckled, ‘’yeah, leave us alone so we can finish our fight.’’ She joked back.

‘’Mkay,’’ Sophia said, eyeing them up and down one more time.

The pair continued walking, Lucy holding her hand protectively on Ona’s lower back.. that was nothing special.. but what Soph did find suspicious was that Lucy’s empty hand was carrying Ona’s purse. Ona never let her do that normally. Soph stood there for a while, thinking what it could be. Then it clicked.

She hurried down the hallway, taking the other elevator up.  

When she reached the top floor she burst into Ona’s office, without knocking.

Lucy and Ona, who stood in an embrace, looked up, confused.

‘’Oh my god Ona,’’ Soph said worriedly, ‘’are you sick?’’

A beat of silence went by before Ona and Lucy burst out in a chuckle.

‘’I mean,’’ Ona laughed, ‘’some mornings, yeah.’’

Lucy bit her lip as she watched Sophia’s reaction.

Soph’s jaw dropped, having trouble believing. ‘’I can’t- .. you’re… are you.. is…’’

Lucy and Ona chuckled again, Ona removed her big scarf and coat, pulling her blouse thight over her belly to reveal a not-so-very-small babybump.

‘’Oh my gosh!’’ Sophia squealed, ‘’when were you going to tell me? At the due date? How far along are you?’’

The couple looked at eachother, ‘’okay we’ll tell you everything, but please keep it to yourself for one day Soph, we where going to tell our parents tonight.’’

‘’I’m the first to know?!’’ Soph practically jumped out of her skin from excitement, ‘’ofcourse, I’ll keep my mouth shut.’’

Ona looked up at Lucy, nudging her.

‘’You want me to tell her?’’ Lucy asked.

Ona nodded, ‘’I am going to pee really quick, I almost peed my pants just now, from laughing.’’

‘’Ah here,’’ Lucy took Ona’s coat and scarf from her, ‘’well.. actually Soph, we are expecting.. two babies.. Ona is four months along.’’

‘’What?! What,’’ Sophia looked around as if looking for someone to tell her it was a joke, ‘’twins?’’

Lucy nodded quietly amused, though on the inside her heart was bursting with love and proudness, she was proud of her wife.. of the babies that were yet to be born.

‘’I’m going to hug you,’’ Sophia said, launching herself at Lucy, ‘’gosh, you guys, when did you two decide to do this then.’’

‘’Morning.. well.. day after my birthday.’’ Lucy chuckled.

‘’Do I want to know?’’ Sophia asked, peeling away from the hug.

Lucy laughed and shrugged, ‘’we where cuddling and Ona asked me what I thought about a third.’’

‘’And a fourth,’’ Soph chuckled breathily, ‘’oh my god.’’

‘’When’s the due date?’’ Sophia continued.

‘’21st of November.’’ Lucy smiled, ‘’a couple days after yours.. though the doctor said twins can come a bit earlier.’’

‘’Ohhhh,’’ Sophia squealed, ‘’I’m so excited, how did you two keep this a secret.’’

‘’I’m offended you didn’t notice me slowly dressing more and more like a potato sack,’’ Ona chuckled, walking back in.

‘’Ouch,’’ Lucy chuckled.

Ona shook her head, ‘’the clothes fit you, you look nice in them.’’

‘’Well its hard for me to observe how you look if you give me all that stuff to do away from you,’’ Sophia laughed, ‘’did you do that on purpose?’’

Ona nodded with a smirk, ‘’but those things really needed to happen anyways, but yeah, it was convenient.’’

Sophia shook her head in disbelieve, ‘’can I hug you?’’

Ona chuckled, opening her arms for her PA.

‘’Mmm I’m so excited,’’ Sophia said for the umpteenth time since she’d gotten the news.

Ona smiled, pulling away and taking Soph’s hand, ‘’double excited?’’ she said, placing her hand down.

Sophia nodded, ‘’do you two know what it.. ehrm.. what gender they are yet?’’

Lucy bit her lip.

Ona laughed, ‘’ah always so nosy Soph, why? do you want us to name one after you if it’s a girl.’’

Sophia laughed, ‘’well its very close to my birthday.. just saying.. I would accept that as a present.’’ She chuckled, ‘’no, I’m kidding, I’m just curious..’’

‘’I kinda like Sofía,’’ Lucy added with a shrug, catching on to Ona´s plan.

‘’Mhm,’’ Ona nodded, ‘’and now that we learned at least one is a girl.. I mean.. we wouldn’t have to break our minds coming up with a name.’’ she said, keeping up the same stoicism.

Lucy hummed in agreement, ‘’and I think Sofía goes well with Oliver and Lucas, no?’’

´´Yeah.. but Soph would never agree,´´ Ona said to Lucy, barely holding it together as she watched Soph´s face in the corner of her eye.

Lucy nodded. "Myeah, guess we’ll have to think of something else then."

Sophia gasped dramatically, her hands flying to her chest. "Are you two seriously messing with me right now?" She narrowed her eyes but couldn’t stop a grin from forming. "I know you’re teasing me!"

Ona shrugged, her lips twitching as she fought a smile. "Actually, we talked about it in the car. We both thought it has a nice ring to it."

Lucy joined in, her tone perfectly innocent. "Don’t you agree?"

Sophia laughed, shaking her head. "Okay, it’s a beautiful name," she said with a smirk, "but isn’t that, like, way too much honor? I mean, I’m just…" Her voice trailed off as her eyes started to glisten. "I’m just your assistant."

Ona’s smile faded into a frown, and she exchanged a glance with Lucy.

"Just our assistant?" Ona repeated, her tone soft but incredulous.

Lucy chuckled, leaning back casually. "We don’t exactly invite just anyone from work to hang out at our house, you know."

Ona nodded, stepping closer to Sophia. "You know you’re family to me, right? To us."

Sophia clapped her hands together, "you guys are too much," she said, half-laughing, half-sniffling. "I might actually combust from excitement!"

Lucy shook her head with a laugh. "We love you, Soph. And our kids do too."

Sophia wiped at her eyes, her smile brighter than ever. "I’ll be telling everyone you said that."

Ona chuckled. "Don’t forget to keep it a secret for one more day."

Lucy laughed. "And the name a bit longer."

‘’I can’t believe you two are actually thinking about it,’’ Soph said, walking over to take both of them in an embrace.

..

Luckily Lucy mainly had management tasks at work today, so she had been able to offer Ona to pick up the boys today. Oliver and Lucas had both asked if a friend could play at home with them, but for once Lucy had to say no. that didn’t happen that often. She said it was because grandma and grandpa came over for dinner, but usually that didn’t change anything for having friends over. But the boys agreed easily.

At home she unpacked the boys’ stuff and put it where it belonged.

‘’Merienda?’’ Lucy asked her kids, Oliver looked up from where he was lying on the floor cuddling with Nela. Lucas had been shadowing her, so he was already close. ‘’What do you want Ollie?’’

‘’Not hungry,���’ Oliver said, playing with Canella’s ears.

‘’I am mommy,’’ Lucas said, pulling at Lucy’s trousers.

Lucy chuckled, petting Lucas his head. But then she focused back on Oliver, ‘’what’s wrong Ollie?’’

‘’Nada,’’ Oliver groaned.

Lucy took Lucas hand and walked over to her oldest son, ‘’what do you think Lucas? Do we have to tickle him?’’

‘’Yaaaa! Debemos!’’ Lucas chuckled.

‘’Nooo,’’ Oliver scrambled to crawl away, running to hide behind a couch.

‘’Nela,’’ Lucy clapped, laughingly ‘’go get him Nela. Vamos Vamos.’’

Oliver chuckled as her ran.

‘’Lucas,’’ Lucy pointed, ‘’you go from that side, hold your arms wide.’’

Lucy herself quickly ran from the other side, easily she trapped him in her arms as he tried to get away.

‘’Mom!’’ Oliver whined, struggling in Lucy’s hold. 

‘’What shall we do?’’ Lucy asked Lucas as she held Oliver upside down, ‘’shall we tickle him.. or do you think he needs some cuddles?’’

‘’Tickles!’’ Lucas yelled, launching himself at his brother.

Lucy quickly shifted Oliver, holding him back upright and close to her. ‘’What do you say Oliver? Tickles?’’

Oliver shook his head, burying his face against Lucy’s shoulder.

‘’D’you want to help mom making some food?’’ Lucy asked, petting his back.

‘’Sí,’’ Oliver nodded against her.

Lucy knelt to pick Lucas up on her other arm, and walked towards the kitchen.

She set both her sons on the counter, placing a kiss to both of their foreheads.

‘’So, what are we going to eat? we have some pasta left that we can reheat,’’ Lucy said, walking to the fridge, ‘’yogur.. fruit.. I can make toast?’’

‘’What will you eat mom?’’ Oliver asked.

Lucy hummed, ‘’hmm, I think I will eat a banana and greek yogurt.. do you want the same?’’

‘’Ew,’’ Lucas shook his head, ‘’por favor no.’’

‘’I want that,’’ Oliver, ‘’but with honey.’’

Lucy nodded, ‘’perfect, two bowls of Greek yogurt.. Lucas pasta?’’

‘’Sweets?’’ Lucas proposed, ‘’we have white chocolate?’’

Lucy shook her head with a chuckle as she took the yogurt from the fridge and got two bowls out, ‘’you can choose toast, or pasta.. or I can make a sandwich… otherwise you’ll be hungry before dinner again.’’

‘’Bocadillo,’’ Lucas huffed, ‘’como siempre lo hace mama.’’

‘’What does she put on it? Ham and cheese?’’ Lucy asked, currently scooping yogurt in to two bowls.

‘’And tomate y pepino, pero Lucas no tomate,’’ Oliver added, thinking along.

‘’D’ya want cucumber Lucas?’’ Lucy asked.

Lucas nodded, ‘’and mamá puts the white bread.’’

‘’Nooo,’’ Oliver laughed, ratting his brother out, ‘’usually we have to eat the-

His sentence got cut of by a stump against his chest, ‘’white bread.’’ Lucas whined.

‘’Ey ey ey,’’ Lucy quickly got in between them, before Oliver could punch back, ‘’Lucas?’’ she asked, making him look at her, ‘’we don’t punch someone, do we now?’’

‘’No but-‘’

‘’Eh?’’ Lucy asked, ‘’no but’s, we don’t punch people, period.’’

‘’Okay,’’ Lucas huffed, ‘’but I want white bread.’’

‘’if you want white bread.. you can ask, we will not lie or punch to get something we want.’’ Lucy said.

‘’Lie?’’ the little boy looked up with a pout, ‘’I didn’t lie.. I-‘’

‘’Mamá almost never lets us eat the white bread,’’ Oliver added.

‘’SHE DOES!’’ Lucas whines.

‘’Hold up,’’ Lucy said, taking a step back, ‘’it doesn’t matter what mamá does, right now I am here – and I make the decision.’’

‘’but you asked how mama makes it.’’ Oliver simply said, ‘’I think he wants one like mamá makes because you always do it..’’ he looked away, not finishing his sentence.

Lucy chuckled, ‘’I do it how?’’ she asked.

‘’Brown bread, no butter.’’ Oliver said carefully, ‘’and too much ham.’’

‘’Allright,’’ Lucy took the comments with a smile, ‘’so.. white bread, butter, cucumber, cheese.. and a little bit of ham.’’

Lucas wiped his tears as he nodded while he wiped his nose on his sleeve, ‘’sí por favor.’’

‘’Okay, I will make that,’’ Lucy said, ‘’now, I do need you to apologize to Oliver, because hurting your brother is never an option.’’

‘’Lo siento,’’ Lucas said with a unsteady whisper.

‘’Okay,’’ Oliver said, ‘’but still, mamá doesn’t give us white bread either.’’

‘’SHE DOESS.’’ Lucas whined again.

Oliver shook his head, ‘’most times brown.’’

Lucy shook her head, ‘’well, thank you Oliver for thinking along, but now I will make a sandwich with white bread for your little brother, okay?’’

‘’Okay,’’ Oliver nodded, ‘’can I have cornflakes in my yogurt then? Instead of honey.’’

‘’Cornflakes in the yoghurt?’’ Lucy chuckled, ‘’or would you rather have a bowl of milk then?’’

Oliver shook his head, ‘’no, not milk.. in the yoghurt.’’

‘’Okay sure,’’ Lucy turned to get the cereal, ‘’what one?’’

‘’Choco krispis!’’ Oliver smiled.

..

As they sat down at the breakfast bar to eat their snacks, Ona came home.

‘’Mamá!’’ Lucas yelped as Ona stepped in to the kitchen.

‘’Carefull bud,’’ Lucy said, grabbing his arm as he almost flew off the high chair. With one hand she helped her son down to the ground.

‘’Hello my loves,’’ Ona smiled, ‘’mamá needs to go to the bathroom Lucito, I’ll be back in a second.’’

‘’Hi amor,’’ Ona leaned in to give Lucy a quick peck, before quickly making her way to the toilet.

Lucas followed his mom, and Lucy got up to the kitchen with her empty bowl, putting it away. ‘’D’you want to eat something?’’ she called out towards the hallway.

Ona, who sat on the toilet with the door open, as Lucas stood there, answered back, ‘’a sparkling water please!’’

‘’And food?’’ Lucy called back again, taking a bottle of sparkling water from the fridge to poor Ona a glass.

‘’No I’m okay, Soph brought me snacks the whole afternoon,’’ Ona chuckled back.

Lucy laughed, ‘’perfect.’’

After being done Ona walked back in to the kitchen.

‘’Mamá,’’ Lucas whined, holding his arms up for Ona to lift him up.

Ona leaned down, kneeling for him, ‘’hi querido, did you have a good day at school?’’

Lucas nodded, putting his arms around his moms neck.

‘’Mamá can’t lift you,’’ Lucy said, setting down the glass of water for Ona, ‘’do you want me to lift you up?’’

‘’No,’’ Lucas shook his head, ‘’mamá.’’

Ona took Lucas his small hands in hers, standing back up on her feet, ‘’mamá can hug you when we sit on the couch.’’

‘’Why?’’ Lucas asked.

Ona turned to take the glass of sparkling water, ‘’thank you love.’’

Lucy smiled, leaning in for a kiss, ‘’you seem happy.’’ She said against Ona’s lips.

Ona smiled, ‘’it was fun to tell Soph, I cant wait for everyone else to know.’’ She said softly.

‘’Hmm,’’ nodded, pulling away slightly as her hand found Ona’s stomach, ‘’do you want to lie down before your parents are here?’’

‘’Mmm,’’ Ona contemplated, ‘’I want to change, maybe I will lie down a little bit, can you handle the boys and cooking at the same time?’’

Lucy nodded, ‘’ofcourse.’’

..

By the time Mr. and Mrs. Batlle arrived, Lucy had just finished the dinner preparations. Everything was ready except for a few last-minute touches she’d planned to handle right before they were going to eat.

After greeting the elder couple alongside Lucas—while Oliver played outside with Nela—Lucy helped them settle in the living room and got them something to drink. Once they were comfortable, she excused herself to go find Ona.

She headed upstairs to their bedroom, expecting to find Ona still napping. Instead, she discovered her in the closet.

‘’Your parents are here.’’ Lucy smiled.

‘’Mhm,’’ Ona hummed, going through clothes, holding them up before stuffing them back in the closet, ‘’I don’t know what to wear, my mom will clock this immediately.’’

Lucy looked at her wife lovingly, Ona standing there in her underwear would never get old, especially with the way her abs had made way for a little bump again. It was adorable.

Lucy got up behind Ona, wrapping herself around the smaller woman, softly holding her belly. She kissed Ona’s neck, ‘’have you used up all my clothes?’’

‘’I cant wear your clothes when my parents are here.’’ Ona whined.

‘’You wore them to work?’’ Lucy said confused.

‘’I know but they will notice something is off,’’ Ona groaned, ‘’my mom knows me too well.’’

‘’It’ll be allright Ona, if they know the second you step in to the room or if they find out in a couple hours when we tell them, we still managed to keep it hidden until today,’’ Lucy said softly, she walked them to the mirror standing in the corner of the walk in closet, ‘’do you see how beautiful you are, it’s a shame we are even hiding it, just one more time. Just choose something from me and your mom will get her explanation soon enough.’’

Ona put her hands over Lucy’s as she looked in the mirror, ‘’its so crazy, isn’t it.’’ She hummed.

‘’Mhm,’’ Lucy leaned in to kiss Ona’s cheek, ‘’and even if they find out you’re pregnant, they still wont know it’ll be dos nietos, instead of uno.’’

Personal Records Masterlist.

[angelinthefire]

Re: @fieldofheathers-stuff

I think approaching Arcane as a tragedy is interesting because I actually never got a tragedy vibe from it. Probably because I believe it ends on a more hopeful note. Cait and Vi together, and particularly the airship sailing into the distance. Even without the implication that Jinx is alive and on board, it's just a hopeful image imo. (I'm also coming into this with the assumption that no body=not dead. For Jinx, that's obvious, and i think you're supposed to conclude that she's alive, or at least it's very open ended. But I also think that it would be easy to bring back Warwick, Jayce, and Viktor too.)

If we're talking about tragedy, I think it's useful to have a more specific definition. There's Greek tragedies - trying to escape fate and failing. And Shakespearian tragedies - when the hero's greatest strength becomes the source of their downfall. (And there’s probably others and more detail you can get into, but I'm just talking about what I remember from high school, lol)

And there are definitely story arcs that are mostly tragic, in both senses. Like Jinx trying to escape the fate of killing the people she cares about. And Viktor’s unswerving determination to make something of himself being both the cause of his rise and his fall.

But then there's a reversal at the end of their stories. Jinx uses her destructiveness to save Vi, her curse becomes her strength. Viktor's determination is met by Jayce's determination to save him, and the inescapability of their friendship. For both of them, the mechanic of the other kind of tragedy takes over. And both of them find a kind of redemption, rather than the utter ruin that's typical of tragedies.

(This is all just occurring to me now btw)

Re: @klorophile and the idea that season 2 should have gone differently.

I disagree with that. I think the two seasons really need to be taken as a unit. The fact that season 2 involved things becoming their opposite doesn't change that they're a single story - again in Shakespeare things becoming their opposite is part of the tragedy. I also don't think the end of season 1 really functions as an ending on its own either, to me it's more of a turning point.

I also think it's a mistake to say that the message is that "you pay the consequences for your actions." That’s punishment, not consequences. Consequences can be unforseen, they can be chaotic, they can be entirely disproportionate. I think that's established very early on.

I also want to point out that in my original post, I'm talking about plot, not themes. Like the way the story is structured. It's more about characters dealing with stuff than trying to accomplish stuff.

If "consequnces" are a theme, I don't think the show is saying that consequences are payment for wrongs. It's just that everything is connected. Everything is part of a chain of actions and reactions, that you cannot control. At most, the show is saying that it's vain to think that you can plan and forsee all the consequences of your actions.

And season 2 was absolutely necessary for that, because season 2 is when things really got chaotic and out of control.

It's not about characters having to pay consequences. It's about characters having the "oh shit, this isn't what I thought it would be" realization. Every character goes through that. Where they get what they thought they wanted, but it comes along with something unexpected and unwanted.

For Caitlyn, she's always had a very strong sense of justice, and in season 1 she's always fighting against those with more power than her. And then in season 2 she is in a position of power, and she immediately does bad things. Her sense of justice doesn't matter. No one in power is innocent. That's what I get from her arc, and whether or not she suffers as a result of her actions is irrelevant. (even though she does lose an eye. that's pretty serious). She failed and she has to live with the knowledge that she failed. The consequence of her failure is that she brought war to her city.

With Jinx, it's very heavily implied that she did not die, that she escaped the explosion through the air ducts and left Piltover, that she broke the cycle and walked away. Which is what she wanted, she wanted to be free from the cycle of killing and death.

But even if you do take her ending in season 2 as a true death. She's not paying a price for her mistakes, not at all. There's a schnee video that gives a really good take on this, even though I disagree with him and belive that Jinx is alive. All Jinx ever wanted was to help the people she cares about. But time after time, she's cursed, she hurts them instead. Even when she starts to turn things around, Isha dies anyways. So Jinx sacrificing herself for Vi is a way for her to finally save her sister. Blowing up their father figure with the monkey bomb saves the day instead of destroying everything. (But again, she's not really dead).

And to reiterate: the thing that changes about consequences for season 2 is that they become chaotic and unpredictable. This is described in the "pass me a tome" scene. There's a series of clear actions and reactions, but at a certain point, if a system is agitated too much, it starts producing unintended outcomes. That's what the wild rune is, that's what Isha falling into Jinx's life is, that's what Warwick is. Order and chaos is another big theme in the show, and season 1 covered the order side of things, it involved science mastering magic. Season 2 is the chaotic outburst that follows.

Regarding Viktor and Jayce, Viktor was the one who had to be stopped most of all, because Viktor was the one trying to remove disorder from the world. Jayce believed hextech was a curse because it created the apocalypse world that he experienced, but for that to come about it required Viktor as a catalyst, so Viktor being taken out was more important than eliminating hextech. The role that Ekko plays is very simply communicated in the line, "that device can't be". It's the contradiction that still exists despite all of Viktor's efforts that breaks through his armour.

For Vi and Jinx, yes they can mend their relationship and relate to each other as equals, but like I said in my original post, that's not really the point of their story. They can be sisters again, they can still love eachother despite everything each of them has done. But they're still stuck in a cycle. What Jinx needs most of all is not a good relationship with Vi, what she needs is a fresh start. She doesn't need to rewrite her story, she needs to build something new. And saving Vi, fixing their relationship, means that Jinx can start fresh without that baggage weighing her down.

And this comes back to my reply to fieldofheathers-stuff. In that I think Arcane is structured like a tragedy, but it's also not. I don't think it has a totally sad ending. Things are melancholy for Mel and Ekko. But Jinx is free to start something new. Vi and Cait get to be in love. Even Jayce and Viktor, their story ended with love and camaraderie.

Every work of fiction involves the creators pushing the characters in a certain direction because they want it to end a certain way. The real question is how natural it feels. I think Arcane does feel natural, because the characters do not wind up with the endings they "deserve", they end in a place that feels organic considering their journeys and their conditions.

I've been thinking about how I would most concisely sum up the plot of Acane. Because I think a lot of the complaints you see come from some people result from expecting it to be a certain kind of story that it's not.

And I think the most concise way to put it is that Arcane is about consequences. The first episode starts with an explosion, that the characters spend the rest of the arc dealing with the repercussions of. And then the first arc ends with two massive events - Powder killing her family and the invention of hextech - that they spend the entire rest of the show dealing with.

I think most of the stories we get from Western media are about achieving or accomplishing something, or the failure to achieve something. And you can frame Arcane in those terms. But I think to best understand the story, you have to step out of that typical framework. Because the thing with an achievement-based story is that there is a particular end goal in mind, and I don't think Arcand has that.

Like take Vi and Jinx, for example. A typical way to frame their story would be that it's about two sisters trying to rebuild their relationship. That presupposes a certain ending: They either succeed or fail at their relationship, and that's what the focus is on.

But it's not about that. It's about - how do you deal with an event that fundamentally changes you?

In season 1, Vi's answer was to recapture what things were like before. In season 2, they try to redo the past (saving Vander) and get a different outcome, but that's impossible. The answer comes with Ekko - to build something new.

And this is all over the show - action and reaction, how the arcane wakes up, killing is a cycle.

[neovillains]

GOLDEN CHRYSANTHEMUMS ⋆ NANAMI KENTO

syn. the golden chrysanthemum, a cozy bed and breakfast with raving views ── according to yelp. just the place you need after your car breaks down near a small town | 5.6k words ( minors, ageless, & blank blogs: do not interact )

── vampire!kento nanami/influencer!reader, nanami runs a bed & breakfast, violence, blood, major character death.

note. i enjoyed writing this a lot and i hope you all do, too. please comment down below or let me know in the tags of your reblogs what you think! mwah!

1800S TO 1900S — nanami’s point of view

Nanami always says he can’t remember his childhood— for Heaven’s sake, it was a long long time ago. Whenever he told guests this, they’d chuckle because he couldn’t be no older than thirty, right? And for the most part, he’s not lying. He can’t remember vivid details of his past like he was once able to. However, there’s a certain time period that could never escape him. Something that always stays relevant in his mind— his first time he stepped foot inside of the Golden Chrysanthemum. A two-story pink Victorian home that was nowhere close to what he was imagining. Clinging to his mother, his stubby fingernails dug into the fine fabric of her dull mustard yellow gown and forced the woman to take very staggered steps. Nanami wasn’t typically a stubborn child, but he remembered his mother telling him to stop, and that, “you’re acting like an ass.”

But still, the boy clung onto his mother like his life depended on it. He had known nothing about his father’s side of the family, but ever since his passing, his mother wanted to change that. Getting in contact through a letter, Nanami’s paternal grandmother thought it was about time that her daughter-in-law forgot about all these petty squabbles the two of them shared, and gave her her right to know her grandson. Trudging up the cobblestone pathway in broad daylight, three hefty knocks sounded through the door before a waft of silence passed. 

The Golden Chrysanthemum wasn’t always a bed and breakfast. No, when Nanami first arrived, it was just Nana’s house. Nana’s house was pink with golden chrysanthemums that caged in the beauty. A well manicured garden and lawn that the woman had tended to for years on end even at her age. She would push a gigantic lawn mower with shears that Nanami was always afraid of getting too close to and each blade of grass was shredded to their desired height. 

That beginning week, Nanami didn’t know much about his grandmother except for the fact that she was his father’s mother and mama didn’t seem to like her very much. However, as days came to pass and she had miraculously learned that Nanami enjoyed pancakes very much, he’d stop hiding behind the frills of his mother’s dress and started trekking behind the older lady. 

He thought he was sly with the way he always kept his distance, sitting on the bench while the mower would loudly rev to life. He thought she didn’t see him when he would sit at the highest steps possible to keep away from view, peeking his head out to watch her cook in the wee hours of the morning. Oh, how she wanted to tell that boy to go back to bed, but those brown eyes. . . (He certainly didn’t get them from her side of the family). They were just so cute and innocent that one day she just had to call out his name. Or, something close to it. 

“Boy,” she called out. “Would you just stop all that hiding and come here?”

She figured that she should’ve been kinder, seeing how the boy started to shudder in fright, already on his feet and running back up the stairs to crawl under the blankets beside his mother. She sighed, but like always, found his skittish tendencies to be quite amusing. She only hoped that this wouldn’t be the end of his morning visits.  

And for a week, she had thought they were. The boy hadn’t come out not once in the past seven days, leaving her alone in the heat as she poured the batter onto the blackening pan over the fire. The sizzle of oil filling in the silence and her growing loneliness. Fortunately, that solitude didn’t last too long. On the tenth day, Nanami finally showed face, his footsteps creaking on the wooden staircase as he took gentle steps down. This time, he trudged closer in her vicinity and waited until she took notice. When she turned her head, she beckoned him over with her head and still addressed him as “boy.”

��Come here and learn how to make pancakes with your grandma, okay?” She said something about not having anyone useless in her house, but Nanami didn’t really care for her ramblings. 

It wasn’t until a month after her death that his mother got the idea of turning the house into a bed and breakfast. Nanami didn’t know what that was, but thought it was a terrible idea. He had brought it up a couple of times, always voicing that he didn’t think that’s what Nana would have wanted. However, time and time again, his mother would remind him to stay in a child’s place and dismiss all of his concerns. However, Nanami was growing into a man. Thirteen years of age and having grown a love for the pink home, he didn’t want to see other people— strangers— lurking inside of the place, his home. He tried staying respectful, but his words always fell upon deaf ears with his mom. 

“Have you no concern for our safety?” He knew the abruptness of the conversation would have his mother taken aback. “Strangers coming in and out of the place for a night— who knows what they could do in those couple of hours!”

Nanami couldn’t remember the last time he had gotten slapped. Before this, he remembered being seven when he felt the heavy impact of his mother’s hand. He always remembers the shock of it, and never the physical pain of it. The way his heart beat would quicken and how he gasps. He remembers being hurt, yes, but it was always something emotional for him. His mother always had a tendency to slap him when he spoke too much and had said something she wasn’t fond of. He thought he learned to keep his mouth shut a couple of years ago, but here he finds himself in the same predicament, feeling that same emotional pain all over again. However, the only solution he had come up with at the time was compliance. 

Fortunately for his mother (and unfortunately for him), he had come to enjoy the idea of a bed and breakfast. However, that wouldn’t happen until many years to come. Though, he can imagine how much his mother is smiling in her grave at the fact that he still carries on the Golden Chrysanthemum in her absence. Always keeping it up to pristine conditions— the home still upkeep that same shade of pink that his grandmother had it and the garden of golden chrysanthemums still in its tip-top shape as he tended to them— he no longer does it begrudgingly. Now, he does everything in the memory of his grandmother. However, sometimes he questions if he’s disappointed her with the amount of red that’s seeped into the ground and the haunting stench of death and decay that lies within his wake. 

The dimming sky as the sun continues to set. The twinkling stars that are coming out of their hiding spots, announcing themselves the winner as yet again, the sun hides away in shame. Nanami has matured some more, standing taller than his mother past six feet at twenty-seven years old. His blond hair no longer covering his face and all the hard work outside is paying off as his muscles are well-defined and he has to go to the tailor’s whenever a button’s getting loose. He slouches in his seat to his mother’s dismay, no longer looking him in the eyes with a sense of joy or happiness. She has come to the term that that’s just what happens in adulthood. 

During dinner, his mother had told him to water the flowers, saying that she had forgotten this time around. It was the only thing she said through its entirety and Nanami simply mumbled in acknowledgment before finishing the rest of his plate. He scraped whatever he could for compost while sinking the porcelain plate into the dirty dish water, letting it soak and submerge in the wet mess. 

In that short time, the sky had completely blackened and the man on the moon was his current guardian. Nana had told Nanami just how to tend to the dear flowers, pointing towards the shed as it had everything he needed. His eyes were falling heavy and his vision getting blurry, trudging his way towards it and swinging the door open. With the force, the door quickly shuts as it opens, leaving him in absolute darkness as he maneuvers himself swiftly through it. Reaching for the water pale and the cloth bag full of plant food as he continues on blind to the red-eyed demon that lurks in the corner. 

Nanami remembers the excruciating pain that he felt as he tried to fight the large and bulky body that pressed against him. The crushing grip that was wrapped around his abdomen, squeezing breath from his as two sharp fangs pierced into his skin; the jaw that sunk into his flesh as Nanami screamed out in the distance. How had his mother not here him?

Slowly on the brink of death, when the monster was finished, it flung Nanami’s weaker body to the ground. He heard things tumble and fall as well as the creak of the shed’s door before it was slammed shut. Laying flat on the ground, he felt like he could barely move. However, with the consciousness that he had left, his fingers twitched as he mustered up whatever strength he could to crawl his way through the door. 

Everything in his path started to lose its life, the sharp blades of grass dwindling and turning yellow, the cobblestone pavement smeared in blood and the petals of the golden chrysanthemums quivering to brown as Nanami forced himself to stand. When he touched the door knob, it left a mark and with his heavy footsteps, he wouldn’t know what to explain to his mother. Though, there was nothing much left of her when he woke up the next day, no longer coated in just his own blood.

YEAR 2024, 10:08 PM — nanami’s point of view 

Nanami has come to terms with his life decisions. Finding solace in his mother’s death, he began to take pride in the upkeep of the Golden Chrysanthemum. Spending his days with the curtains shut and tending to any necessary repairs, he made sure that all guests were out by twelve p.m. Despite the daylight ring that was wrapped around his left middle finger, he spent his days cooped up inside the outdated Victorian home finding things to keep him busy and his mind occupied. Circular reading glasses that stuck to the bridge of his nose, his eyes stared at the words on the laptop, going through any bookings and making sure all his books were up to time. He held onto a red-ink pen, jotting down in the notebook alongside him and crossing out the tasks he completed. 

He missed the trivial little human things he used to whine about,especially a headache— a telltale sign from his body silently telling him that he needed a break. Now, he could stand at this desk until the sun goes down, completely unaware of the world around him. Time only seems to be going faster in his presence, nightfall creeping up on his back as a shiver runs down his spine when he no longer feels the ache of the sun through the window. His fingers don’t ache, but when he bends them, he can hear the cracks from each muscle as he shuts down the screen and hops off the round stool. 

Now, he starts to feel it, that hunger deep inside. That hunger eats him up in a way that’s more animalistic than any other ravenous and furry beast to exist. It beckons him to saunter down the wooden floor as his brown leather shoes clunk against the ground and reach for the door knob. Checking the time— ten-o-eight p.m.— he keeps the sign hanging on the door as it says ‘Open.’ He shouldn’t be gone for that long. 

YEAR 2024, 10:15 PM — your point of view ! [ currently filming ]

You remember when you started vehemently watching youtube. You watched videos that primarily focused on lifestyle and vlogs about strangers that you had come to admire. They’d record themselves under certain predicaments that always seemed too private to be shared on the internet and show themselves in low moments. Then, you always told yourself that if you became an influencer of any sort, you’d never do that. 

Now look at you. 

You fix your tripod, making sure that the camera is focused and that the red light is on as it captures the entirety of your vehicle on camera. Internally, you were asking yourself what you were doing. It was ten-fifteen at night and the sky was dark. Seemingly in the middle of nowhere anyone could come out at any moment and murder you. However, that’s why you also convinced yourself that this was a great idea. If you were to die, your evidence will be recorded for the authorities to find. 

You also needed to talk about your current predicament, even if it was ultimately to yourself in this very moment in time. What was so wrong with that? 

“Guys,” speaking to the camera, you sighed. “My car broke down.”

You had made the plans to travel from your hometown all the way to California in a lonesome roadtrip to celebrate graduating from school with your master’s in Occupational Therapy. It was a huge accomplishment and in the time that it took from undergrad to here, you never really took some time to really do something you wanted. You were also considering the possibility of moving out-of-state with California as the place to be, making sure to kill two birds with one stone as you wanted to experience the different climate as a tourist first before becoming a resident. 

You were expected to arrive at your hotel by tomorrow evening, but you fear that this delay with offset your entire plans. Now, you’re in the middle of bumfuck nowhere in Nebraska, stranded. “I don’t even understand how. I made sure that everything was in good standing before I left. Maybe I was overworking it, but I don’t know… Ugh, I’m just gonna google and see if there are any places open at this time at night to see if they’d help a damsel in distress.”

Pulling out your phone from your back pocket, when you press the power button, the brightness blinds you. You turn it down as your attention quickly becomes glued to the device, praying that the few signal bars that you have won’t result in a time-consuming wait. You perch yourself on the hood of the car as your camera silently watches, recording everything. With one hand scrolling through your phone, you start to gnaw on one of your hang-nails.

You gnaw and gnaw absentmindedly until a harsh pinch makes you hiss. From the light of your phone, you can see the small red dot that slowly starts to expand. Grimacing, you sweep it under the bridge, licking off the light wound. 

The camera catches it, the dark figure that appears from nowhere, looming silently before it comes closer. Their figure becomes more clear in their hauntingly silent steps, standing behind your car before your front door. A teal blue shirt with the sleeves rolled up just below his elbows and an animal-print tie that matches with khakis slacks held up by a deep brown belt, he stands half an inch over six feet. 

“Excuse me,” a deep voice that immediately sends you jumping off your car. You immediately catch yourself, using the vehicle to stop your fall. Your phone falls from your grasp, hitting the ground as a squeak leaves your mouth. 

“I’m sorry,” the man comes to apologize. “I didn’t mean to frighten you. It just seems like you needed some help, that’s all. Did your car break down?”

Your body tenses up, taking in the man from head-to-toe as you stoop down to grab your phone, which now has a cracked screen. You test out the power button, grateful that it still lights up, at least. You nod your head, though still averting your eyes away from him. “Yeah, it did.”

“Could I possibly take a look at it to see the problem?” he offers you assistance. “I won’t be able to do much, but I own a bed n’ breakfast just two miles back. You can spend the night and if it’s something simple I can help get your car back on the road, or I can help you find the closest mechanic right in the morning.”

The prospect of his plan was enticing, but something still made your skin crawl about him. A shiver ran down your spine, the cold breeze starting to run through you as you tried debating this in your mind. It was late at night and truthfully, you should've found yourself somewhere to rest your head at. However, you planned to find somewhere by midnight before sluggishly bringing yourself to whatever place to rest your head for the night. Nevertheless, what was a man like this doing at this time of night? 

You give him another once-over. He seems like he just came off of work, you noted to yourself. Did he say he owned a bed n’ breakfast? 

“You own a bed n’ breakfast?” You ask, to which, he nods. “What’s it called?”

“The Golden Chrysanthemum.”

“Do you have a business card for it?” Immediately, he reaches in his back pocket, pulling one out and handing it to you. You dust off your phone, trying to rid yourself of any fine pieces of glass shards onto your loose-fitted pants before typing in the business name for further verification. You scroll through whatever reviews you can find, all of them seemingly rating the place four to five stars and having all nice things to say. 

Your shoulders fall and your body relaxes a bit as you finally give him the okay to check on your car. He sends you to the front seat, popping the lid and starting the car. He’s able to find the issue in a short manner of time and tells you that it’s an easy fix. “You just need a jump start. You have a jump starter, right?”

You feel ashamed to admit that you don’t. You were living a very frugal lifestyle in grad school, knowing that you needed things but couldn’t afford it at the time. When creating this road trip checklist, you had forgotten to put it on your list entirely. Shaking your head no, the man— or Nanami Kento, according to his business card— shuts the lid. “You should invest in one.”

“Yeah,” you sigh, sheepishly. “I know.”

“It’s fine,” he says. “I’ll call for a tow truck.”

After grabbing some of your necessities from your car— your suitcase and a backpack— Nanami does, most, all of the heavy lifting as he drags your suitcase and backpack. The two of you walk in a silence that you feel is uncomfortable as you constantly glance back at him in a wariness. “Why are you out so late?”

“Couldn’t really sleep,” he answers, nonchalantly. He doesn’t give further elaboration, making more questions swirl in your mind as you remember him saying that the Golden Chrysanthemum was two miles back. Usually, when you had a heavy mind and couldn’t fall asleep, you’d walk half-a-mile— a mile at most. However, his tone was laced with such certainty that it was believable. He seemed so rigid that if you dared to question him any further, you probably wouldn’t get anywhere. 

“Wow,” you gawk instead. “You walked for two miles and still aren’t tired?”

“Yeah,” Nanami answers. He’s learned to not overcompensate. Too long of an explanation would leave people suspicious and suspicious people are why the cat gets killed. He never expected to be helping someone stranded on the side of the road tonight, but the deep neck of the woods were bare of any hikers. He always considered himself a dignified person, having a code that aligned with his morals— no women or children. He’d never break that code with himself.

You frown at the dry response, a fog forming when you sigh as you decide to play along into the silent game. The only thing to be heard is the shuffling of your feet against the ground and the wheels of your suitcase spinning smoothly before you’re finding yourself stepping onto a cobblestone path. Nanami starts leading the way as you take a step behind to marvel over the tall beauty as the moon sparkles against it. 

Two-story pink beauty with white accents, wooden panels that seem so brand new and glass that sparkles even in the dark. The sign next to you seems to have been handpainted, the dark letters that were written in such perfect calligraphy that reads of the name. Nanami doesn’t wait for you, hauling your stuff up as you start getting closer to the front steps. It’s then that you come to notice the well-kept lawn and the garden that aligns the building, the flowers that have given the place its name— The Golden Chrysanthemum. 

YEAR 2024, 12:03 AM — your point of view [ filming ! ] 

You jump up in bed with a jolt, your heart thumping against your chest in an attempt to escape your body. You heave, trying to catch your breath as you don’t have the liberty of gradually coming to your senses. In the darkness, you can’t see anything as you kick off the cotton covers and your bare feet land on the cold, wooden ground. 

The moment that Nanami had set up a room for you, you realized how exhausted you are. The mattress of the bed was so comfortable and the pillows so soft, the minute your head hit the pillow, you were fast asleep. But you had barely been sleeping for half an hour when you heard these creaking sounds and the occasional thud, the very thing being the reason why you’re up right now. 

With your heart more steady and coming to your senses, you glance at the clock and exhale. Still obnoxiously exhausted, you reach for your camera as you remember its existence and turn it on. The lens on your face and the red light right on you, you forget about the fact that you’re in the dark. As if on queue, you drag out a huge yawn. “Well… I managed to find a place to stay for the night.

“This guy… I don’t know where he came from, but…” You’re dozing in and out, trying to get your thoughts straight. “But, he offered to help me out with my car and he owns a bed n’ breakfast. That’s—” you yawn once more “—where I’m at right now.

“The bed—” you pat the bed, droning on and on as you recommend the place. Your eyes would lull shut, dozing off occasionally before your body reminded you of the camera in your hand. Unsteadily, the lens was no longer on your face and pointed towards the window. The moon was shining, but very dimly as you were gifted the view of beautiful greenery. In a bedroom that faced the back of the house, the bushes were whistling in the wind along with the cicadas and crickets that sang at night. It was a singular moment, happening within a split second that the camera captured vividly, a figure that resembled a human but moved at the speed of light. Heading towards the shed as the door quickly opens and shuts. 

Focusing and unfocusing before focusing once more, the camera was hoping to capture more until you had finally come to your senses. Fixing your hand, the camera was back on you. “You know what, I’m gonna head back to sleep. I should’ve just… waited for the morning before updating you guys. Um… Good night.”

YEAR 2024, 2:24 AM — your point of view [ filming! ]

You had a dreamless sleep, but at some point in between, you felt a sense of unease. When you wake up again, it’s nearly half-past-two in the morning. You’re kicking your legs off the bed once more, bare feet planted against the cold wooden ground as you roll your shoulders. You don’t have to come to your senses, your anxiety does all of that for you. Heart pressing against your chest and your breathing harsh and uneven. Your eyes are closed as you try to steady yourself before standing up. 

You roll your shoulders back one more time before rubbing your eyes and wiping away the crust that had begun to form. Exhaling, you think the best thing to do is to go out for a walk. Peeking out of the window, the sky still dark and the moon seeming brighter. You slip back on the shoes you were wearing, still in the same clothes that you had driven in for how many hours. Hand twisting the door knob, the hall is dark with an overhead lamp that’s on a dim setting. You hadn’t forgotten your camera, still at a decent charge as the red light shines dimly. You don’t feel like saying a word. 

It’s silent, deafeningly so that it feels eerie. Though, that only seems natural at a time like this. Everyone else must be fast asleep, you easily presume in order to calm yourself down. Including the owner himself as you walk towards the lobby, where a counter sits to your left and the living area to your right. Cream-colored walls and white furniture that helps brighten up the place. The mounted television is off and everything is still. Every trinket and every object seemingly staring you down in an effort to scrutinize and only increasing your panic as you hug yourself, arms wrapped around you as you move forward to the door.

The night is chillier, the thin veil of your top doing nothing to keep you warm as your feet shuffle down the sidewalk. Your legs move involuntarily, starting you on an unknown path as your phone sits in your back pocket. If push comes to shove, you have that to rely on. It’s now two-thirty-five in the morning as you trek down the cobblestone path and head down the sturdy sidewalk. Even with the insects harmonizing and the gust of wind whirling by, it’s eerily stagnant outside. You try to keep your breathing steady as you hold yourself tighter, walking past an abundance of greenery. The moon peeking through the trees, playing hide and seek with you as it provides you company. Finally, do you speak into the camera, keeping it facing forward instead of on you in order to capture the beauty of the night. 

“I woke up yet again,” you sigh. “Honestly, a lot of this footage, I might be cutting out, but you guys will provide me more comfort while I’m taking a walk… in the middle of the night.”

The next time you check your phone, it’s seven minutes until three in the morning. Gradually do you feel more at peace as you come to accept that your mind and worries are only playing a game on you, finding your demise to be comical. However, it’s three-eleven when you finally decide to turn back around. 

Your camera catches him first. More silent than a pin dropping, his stance is stiff and threatening as his eyes are darker than the coffee-colored hues they were before. Again, your heart pounds against your chest as he approaches you without a word. You clutch your chest, camera staggering as your nails dig into your shirt. “God, you just keep on scaring me tonight.”

He ignores your fright, head tilting to the right as he clutches his fists, veins protruding from his hands to his forearms. “What’re you doing out so late? It’s not safe at this time of night.”

“I’m just taking a little walk,” you explain. “I couldn’t sleep and needed some fresh air.”

“I think it’s best that you head back inside, ma’am.” You notice the way his Adam’s apple bobs, seemingly trying to keep himself together. “Like I said, these times at night aren’t very… safe.”

Against your better judgment, you shake your head. “I’ll head back in soon. I just need a few more minutes to myself before turning back.”

“It would be better if you’d head back now, actually.”

Eyes squinting as you keep the camera pointed to him, you take a step back. “I think I’m fine, actually.”

“You’re in a place you’re unfamiliar with,” Nanami goes on to argue, challenging you as he inhales deeply. “Don’t you think the smart choice would be to turn back?”

“Why do you—”

“Look,” he cuts you off. “I’m trying to seek out your best interests. I don’t think it will be particularly smart for you to keep arguing with me—” His eyes soften, silently pleading with you. “—Please, head back.”

Your shoulders drop in defeat as you go to turn off your camera. Underneath your breath, you say, “Fine.”

However, at three-twelve in the morning, your camera lens is shattered as it lies on the ground and the red light is still shining. In the blink of an eye, you’re gone and the device abandoned. 

YEAR 2024, 4:59 AM — omnipresent point of view [ not recording ] 

You don’t know what time it is when you finally return back to consciousness. Hands bound behind your back as thick ropes keep them still. Your eyes flutter open as your chest rises and falls, trying to get a bearing of your surroundings as Nanami is kneeling in front of you. Eyes that still hold that same darkness as he watches you return back to reality. Oh, how hard he tried to keep himself grounded, trying to restrain the hunger within himself. Even now, he tries to keep himself under control.

However, is there any way to keep you alive after this point? He’s no magician. He can’t take away your memories and make you forget. To have you walking around, knowing of his existence, it wouldn’t be safe for him. 

I could paint her as a mad woman, he contemplates. Who’d believe a girl claiming that vampires are real? However, he knocks that question out with, She could, however, paint me a criminal. Nonetheless, in this battle for rationality and morals, time continues to go and his hunger grows stronger. Nails digging into the palm of his hand, threatening to prick into his skin, he stands when a faint gasp leaves your lips. “Wh–Where am I?”

In the basement, he’s got you tied down to a pole. You try to pull at the binding, your wrists already bruised from how tight he’s got the ropes. “Why am I tied up? Who are you— Let me go!”

Your mind whirls as you come to your senses, eyes widening as you try to free yourself. He should’ve thought this through. He should’ve killed you the moment he knocked you out. You’d have a painless death. Now, he’s given you the curse of one that’ll be excruciating. 

“I’m sorry,” he breathes. “I tried warning you when I had a bit more self-control.”

When he inches toward you, you try to back away from him. However, that only results in your head hitting the pole as your breathing becomes erratic. He ignores your fright, trying to ignore the guilt that courses through him as he stands behind you, reaching for the man-made manacles— if you can even call them man-made anymore. “You’ve worn me out, however.”

“What do you mean?” you try looking back, feeling the restraints being lifted and only to be replaced with his tight hold. “Please—” You try your luck here, attempting to pull away from his grasp, but he doesn’t budge one bit. “Please, let me go.” 

Your chest heaves, panting heavily as tears prick down your face. One hand holding down your wrists, Nanami reaches to swipe away at the dried blood. He had created a nasty gash in your head, blood still pooling from it as crimson paints his thumb. “I don’t usually prey on women. It goes against my own code, but…”

With a lick from his tongue, the dark veins underneath his eyes reveal his true form. “You’ve left me no choice. I just couldn’t… I just can’t hold back anymore.”

Eyes widening as you know your impending death is near, your mind does the best thing it could conjure. Letting out signals as your body comes to a cold sweat, you let out a blood-curdling scream in hopes to be heard. However, inhumanely faster than you, sharp canines reveal themselves and prick into the nape of your neck. Your cry for help becomes choked, stuttering on the high-pitched wail as you mewl out in pain. 

“Please,” you beg, your body feeling heavier by the second. “I–I don’t… I don’t want to die.”

When he drops your lifeless body, your eyes are still wide open. Nanami gives you the grace of closing them.

YEAR 2024, 5:43 AM — nanami’s point of view [ destroyed footage ]

Nanami considers himself lucky when he’s the first to find your camera. Picking it up, he’s surprised that the damn thing is still on and flashing red. Mouth smeared in a browning rouge, he looks into the camera lens with a dead stare. Then forcing it to the ground, the glass shatters as two heavy stomps crush the device, the sims card still intact. 

THE END.

film credits — thank you to @mitsuwu for basically giving me the idea to make reader an influencer.

subscriptions ── @r0ckst4rjk @kasukuna @satsattoru @blcknebula @tojirin

[selene131]

🪞Clarity🪞

Sevika x reader

Summary: Sevika is at her lowest, but you are there to provide her with comfort.

Wc: 770

Warnings: hurt/comfort, angst, vulnerable Sevika, self-criticism (Sevika), smoking

The darkness of the room is disturbed by the flame coming from the beautifully carved metal lighter. The metallic click of the lighter creates an enigmatic symphony that echoes throughout the space. With each flicker of the flame, you catch glimpses of her face.  The light kisses her face in an ethereal way, at the same time, emphasizing her strong, sharp features. Such a sublime antithesis: she is fragile, vulnerable; yet so untouchable and bold. She places the golden cigarette holder between her teeth as she lights the other end of the cigarette. She inhales the smoke deeply; letting it invade every part of her lungs, holding it for a few seconds before releasing it slowly.

She plays with the lighter one more time, allowing  the flame to burn freely. Now, you get a better view of her face. She studies her face in the mirror, her eyes gliding over every little detail of her face - her eyes, eyebrows, nose, lips, deepened bags, and scars engraved into her skin. At that moment, she remains unaware that you have gotten up from your seat. You carefully approach her, standing right behind her. She is still focused on her reflection - she sees a broken person, shattered to pieces. Her mind is unclear as she looks at herself, consumed by her own thoughts and self-criticism. 

You watch her reflection in the mirror, and surprisingly, your eyes meet. Her gaze softens, and you catch her in a vulnerable moment. Your eyes don't leave hers. Slowly, you move closer, your chest pressed against her back. You rest your head on her shoulder, nuzzling your face into the crook of her neck, but your eyes never stray from hers.

“You are doing that again”, you say in a gentle tone. 

“I can't help it”, she responds.

There is a palpable tension; the intensity of your gaze weakens her, and she breaks eye contact. Gently, you raise your hand to her face, caressing it and guiding her gaze back to the mirror. The flame of the lighter illuminates her features, while the darkness of the room casts shadows over her visage - creating a captivating work of art, a baroque painting where the technique of chiaroscuro works its magic.

"You should try to see yourself the way I do", you break the silence.

She lets out a chuckle and shakes her head. 

“Don't give me this answer”, you disagree with her reaction.

You begin to trace every single feature of her face, telling her all the little things you love about them. You notice that her face feels warmer, likely due to her internal blushing, but you choose not to tease her about it. You pause your exploration at her eyes, where you give her a complete analysis.

“Those beautiful gray eyes - look at them. Those eyes that have seen horrors no simple man can imagine. Those eyes that shed tears countless times behind closed doors. Yet, those eyes can still sparkle with the joy of a little child. Those eyes offer kindness to those in need. Those eyes soften when they look at me.”

Her facade is breaking; her eyes are full of tears, but she still refuses to let them run over her face.  

You try your best to reassure her. 

"I don't deserve your softness and kindness," she utters with a trembling voice. 

It breaks your heart to see her this way. She is in the process of learning how to accept and love herself. It will take time to silence the voices in her head - her own and those who made her feel less.

“You deserve more”, you say as you delicately guide her head to face you.

“You need time and I am here to support you, no matter what”, you add with a genuine smile on your face. 

In return, her hand finds your face, stroking your cheek lovingly. She guides your face toward hers, holding the gaze. As your faces almost touch, she pauses - her eyes searching yours, attempting to communicate her love for you. With her lips near yours, you can feel her warm breath fanning over them. Her hand moves to the back of your head, fingers tangling in your hair as her lips meet yours in a kiss filled with longing.

The flame of the lighter flickers and is burning low as the gas is slowly dying. Yet the fire of love in your heart and soul for one another continues to blaze brightly.

In the end, she pulls away from the kiss and says: “Darling, you bring me clarity. ”

[xia0mi-c0m]

The proshipping problem in the twst fandom | A rant.

Very obvious trigger warning for things normal for proshippers like p3dophilia, incest, etc.

Though I do know proshippers will be in every single fandom, it's getting especially worse in the twst fandom, specifically the Japanese side of the fandom (with some discussions about some in the English side too).

Before any proshippers come into the comment section: Proshipping is NOT a healthy coping mechanism. If your therapist recommended it, they should be fired.

This post is not to dehumanize and degrade underage proshippers as they have been obviously groomed into believing that it was okay to ship this sort of stuff.

The actual elephant in the room we WILL be shunning is the adult proshippers who actively encourage children (either actually or under law) to proship.

Before getting fully deep in this subject, I would like to admit something that I've talked about before.

I was a proshipper when I was younger than what I am now. This was because, not getting into too much detail, I was groomed by a man online to the point that i thought it was okay.

Not only was I a proshipper but I was also a darkshipper, problematic comshipper, and also supported the things present in Dead Dove fanfics.

In fact, I had an account on some sort of forum page with other proshippers and I shared my nasty ships there. I believed it was a good way of desensitizing myself to my trauma that fucked me up heavily, but it wasn't and it was making me relive the same trauma which in return, made it worse.

This is why I say that I do not want anyone to shun underage proshippers, they were groomed into it half of the time.

Now that I'm 18 (About to turn 19 on February 14th), I finally understand that proshipping is an unhealthy way of approaching your trauma and pain.

It may feel like it does something, but it really doesn't. And I want to reassure you that you're not alone in your pain, please, find other ways to cope and process what has happened to you that doesn't include glorifying very nasty things.

Now with that out the way, I would like to say what the title says.

Proshippers in the twst fandom has sadly grown overtime, but my niece made a very good point; stating that since twst does have a slightly dark story, that people with dark and nasty thoughts and ideas will be attracted to it, much like a moth to a flame that damages it's already fragile body.

There have been adults in the twst proshipper area, and I think they're the main cause of fueling minors in the fandom to do the same thing. Maybe with or without knowing the eventual psychological consequences.

The adults who are aware sadly lure and prey on the gullible underage individuals of the fandom, and though that might seem like an overexaggeration; it sadly is true.

I am Japanese, well, half-Japanese. But even then, due to that fact, I'm more prevalent in the Japanese fandom than the English fandom though I am trying to balance out both.

Since I am more present in the Japanese side of the fandom than I am with the English side (because I'm basically like an absent dad that went off to get the milk and never came back until years), I have seen a lot of shit in here and it's very scary even to this day.

Though the English side of the fandom is as equally bad, the Japanese side is worse with the whole l0li and sh0ta thing. Sadly I have seen English twst accounts do those things too.

The most popular proshipper you may know is Ugigi or however the fuck you spell her name, whether one likes to admit it or not, her selfships were very much proshipping. This is mainly due to how her OC could've been her actual age which was in her 20s if I'm remembering correctly.

But let's say the OC wasn't, it would still be problematic (but not in the proship way) since the characters she drew NSFW of were mainly the minors (again, if I remember correctly). If her OC was her actual age then she would be a proshipper.

However, watever the age of the OC she always drew, it's obvious that it was still leaning more on proshipping because that indicates that she's attracted to the characters despite knowing they're minors (and not even aging them up by the way).

So, very nasty, I was thinking of putting her In the TWs 😭

All jokes aside, proshipping is disgusting.

In fact, must I bring up any other thing?

LEECHCEST.

WHAT.

Well, you heard that right, people ship Floyd and Jade. Seriously, what is wrong with you guys. And I think I know why this ship is so popular in the Japanese fandom; The fact incest is not necessarily illegal in Japan in a way.

Yeah. You heard me correctly. I'm horrified and scarred for life <3

"Surely there isn't anymore I shall talk about, right? Right?? RIGHT?!?" I exclaim, not expecting anything else to come from the sky and hit me.

Then boom..

SHROUDCEST.

OH FUCK NOT AGAIN.

So, apparently people ship a dead robotic little boy with his big brother.. yeah... FNAF fandom called, they're telling you not to steal their bit much like how Deejus is trying to tell Johnny RaZeR not to steal his "YOUTUBEEE" outro bit that.. he also stole.

It can't get any worse than this, right? This is definitely the last tier of the iceberg, surely? Perhaps??-

KINGSCHOLARCEST.

Okay, now we're pushing it, this bit is getting old but whatever.

Kingscholarcest can refer to three (disgusting) "ships": A nasty ship of Cheka x Leona, a nasty ship of Falena x Leona, or a nasty ship of Falena x Leona x Cheka.

Sweet home Alabama all around but more extreme..

I think we all know why these ships are not okay and are disgusting (ESPECIALLY CHEKA X LEONA SINCE CHEKA IS A GOO GOO GA GA BABY.)

Finally.. It's over.. I can go back to ranting!-

FELLOW X GIDEL.

JESUS CHRIST STOP.

This madness needs to stop because if not I'm going to pull my fucking hair out!-

LILMAL, SILVER X LILIA, S-

OKAY STOP IT RIGHT HERE,, THE BIT IS OLD NOW.

So, I think you get my point.

Borderline incestuous ships, the drake specialty, and straight up sweet home right to Alabama.

Now, let's put aside the jokes and get serious again.

With all the things I have stated, you can definitely see the absolute horror of some parts of the fandom.

There's accounts that are VERY hypocritical, saying "P3dos DNI" when they are a sh0ta/l0licon. This is the literal definition of hypocrisy at it's finest.

There are mfs who have unironically said that Cheka was hot and romantically cute.. HE'S 7 YEARS OLD. OR MAYBE YOUNGER. I DON'T EVEN REMEMBER BUT I DO KNOW HE IS A CHILD.

I have said this MANY times before and I'll say it again; if that characters looks like a child, THEY ARE A CHILD.

Even if you age up characters like Ortho, Cheka, etc. You are still self-reporting that you're attracted to a literal child.

Fiction DOES affect reality no matter if you try to plug your mickey mouse ears with your fingers (or paws, I don't know) to gaslight yourself into believing it doesn't truly affect it.

In fact, there have been cases where people have been arrested for having l0li/sh0ta on their devices, though, sadly, its not a long sentence despite how it should be lifelong.

But even without the lifelong sentence, the law still considers l0li/sh0ta CSAM. (I hate calling it CP now since that implies that kids can do that in their own will.)

A grown adult proshipper even told me when I criticized Kanna from dragon maid for being a little girl the author sexualizes to no end all because I said that she doesn't have a listed age that I was being "contradicting" and I think this proves that.. proshippers DON'T know what contradictions ACTUALLY are because they've gaslit so much into believing this disgusting behavior is normal and okay to do.

And don't get me started on Dead Dove cai, chai, etc. bots and fanfics.

Dead Dove, proshipping, problematic comshipping, darkshipping, doveshipping, etc. doesn't give out awareness to the horrors of such depraved acts.

Another very nasty thing I've seen in the TWST fandom is people shipping the staff with the students, mainly Crewel with Deuce.

Teacher x Student is disgusting no matter what. Teachers are always more grown than the students, so yeah, teachers aren't the anime boy or girl of your dreams or something, he or she's going to be old and otherwise not "attractive" and young.

The training to become a teacher and any profession in fact will take years, which means you'll grow and turn old.

I understand many say "Well, it's just fiction!" but these people seem to forget that young individuals, especially young girls, can see these teacher x student fiction and will probably, in the worst case scenario, get the wrong impression from it, ESPECIALLY if the media glamorizes and romanticize it, and sadly become a victim.

Crewel, If I'm not wrong, is 31 meanwhile Deuce and the other first years that [Crewel] mainly gets shipped with are 16 years old.

This is not only a disgusting, vomit-inducing age gap but huge maturity gap whether one likes to admit so or not.

Yanderes especially in the twst fandom get romanticized, and people seem to forget the reality of the abuse that yanderes put their "love interest(s)" through.

And I think this is why fandoms (not just twst) should stop romanticizing yanderes and student x teacher, and vice versa.

Besides, these two tropes are grooming even if the victim is not a minor, adults and the elderly alike can also be groomed especially if they're gullible and need to depend on someone (for either a disability or something).

People will probably invalidate my point but I don't budge from what I said.

Sorry if this posts looks rushed and/or maybe even incoherent to some, I just wanted to get this off my chest and stuff.

I should start ranting more, I like yapping so yeah, expect more whenever I'm bored :3

Anyways, BAIIII!!

YOUTUBEEEEEE flies away into the void to the right

[willalove75]

Alcina's New Maid Pt. 25 Lady Dimitrescu x Reader

Summary: Alcina and the girls take care of business. After that, they dive head first into planning your birthday party!

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI.

Tags: Just some fluff, maybe the tiniest hint of angst if you squint

Notes: Part 25! Heyyyyyy long time no see! I am SO, SO sorry it took me almost a goddamn year to update this fic!!!😭 I really didn't expect to not update this for so long. I was really only hoping to be away for a few months. For those who missed my latest life update in the notes of the last chapter, or if you forgot (lets be real that's totally what happened lmaoo) I had a baby!!! He was born in May and is truly the best thing in the entire world. Labor was ROUGH, I was in labor for 36 hours but he was perfect and healthy and a big chonk! (Almost 9lbs!) Postpartum has definitely been difficult, especially the first few months (PPD decided to BODY me four months in😅) but things are starting to finally calm down a bit and I've had the time, motivation AND energy to write lately!! WOO!!! I was NOT expecting this birthday party scene to be so damn long when I first pictured it. But it'll probably end up being about three chapters. Is it too long? Maybe. Probably. But I don't have the energy to nit-pick it to death and I'm afraid if I did, I'd think it's shit, lose all motivation, and take even longer to update this thing lmaooo Was this proofread? Kinda, but not really. Is it my favorite chapter I've ever written? Also no. But it does lay a bit of foundation for some other things later on! Anyway, I hope you all enjoy it! Pls leave me a comment with your thoughts!

Click here for the rest of the series

The following evening, Alcina and the girls made their way down to the village. Alcina insisted that you didn’t wait up for them so you begrudgingly got yourself ready and fell asleep in Alcina’s massive bed, alone. What you assume was a few hours later, you awoke when the mattress dipped on Alcina’s side of the bed. Turning towards her, she smiled at you and pulled you into her chest.

“It’s done?” You asked, your voice still thick with sleep.

“Yes. Go back to sleep, draga.” She replied.

As you opened your mouth to ask more questions, Alcina shushed you and ran her long fingers through your hair. “Sleep.”

Knowing you weren’t going to win, coupled with your half-asleep state, you cuddled further into her and quickly fell back asleep.

Neither Alcina or the girls gave you details of what happened but they did tell you that the one child in the house was left unharmed and dropped at the doorstep of a neighbors house. For the rest of the occupants, only a few were brought back to the castle and taken straight into the dungeon. The rest never made it out. It was the one and only time that night was discussed, which frankly was fine with you. Guilt still ate at you, but you understood why things had to happen the way they did. Even if a small part of you still believed they should have been left alone.

After that night, the girls put all of their energy towards your birthday party. Once Alcina realized how out of hand things were getting she ended up taking over the majority of the planning - just as Cassandra had predicted.

It was decided that the party would be a black tie affair and the ballroom would be decorated with white and gold accents. Alcina asked you to come up with a list of guests you would want invited, even though the majority of the village would be invited anyway. It didn’t take you long to give her your list since you didn’t have many friends in the village. Your list consisted of your aunt, uncle, and cousins, a few acquaintances, and your best friend, Alexi.

“And who is this Alexi?” Alcina asked as she looked over your list.

“Oh, he’s my best friend.”

“Your best friend?” She asks, crinkling her nose at the fact that your best friend was a guy. “And why have you never spoken of him before?”

“I don’t know,” you replied with a shrug. “I guess it just never came up.”

“And I presume there’s no swaying you into not inviting this man-thing?”

“No! Alcina he has to be there, he’s my best friend!” She grumbles something about how many men will be in attendance, clearly unhappy with it given her usual “no men in the castle” rule that was lifted for the party.

“So how long have you been friends with this man-thing for, then?”

“Since we were little kids, I met him before my parents died. We basically grew up together. We even made a pact that if we were both single by the time we were 30 we would just marry each other.” You say with a laugh.

Alcina however, did not find your pact with Alexi nearly as amusing as you did if the clenching of her jaw was any indication. You immediately picked up on her reaction and raised your eyebrows at her.

“What’s the matter?”

“Nothing.” She says with a tight smile that doesn’t reach her eyes. “I just find it quite interesting you bargained to marry a man.”

Her suddenly cold attitude caught you off guard and was confusing until a thought dawned on you.

“Oh my god, Alcina, are you jealous?” You say with a smile growing on your face.

Her eyes flash with something akin to anger and they narrow at you as she scoffs. “Hah! Jealous? Of a stupid man-thing? Please, don’t offend me.”

Alcina turns her attention back towards the list. You can see how tight her jaw still is and the vein in her neck pulse like it does when she gets worked up.

“You’re so jealous!”

“I am not. I just don’t enjoy the thought of you marrying a man.” The tension in her body was palpable. Alcina would never admit that she was jealous. Possessive? Sure. But jealousy? That was a hideous trait, but Alcina couldn’t help but feel horribly jealous deep down.

Sensing her change in demeanor, you stood up and walked around her desk and crawled into her lap. Alcina sat back in her chair and looked down at you, a slight furrow in her brows still visible.

“You have absolutely nothing to worry about, or be jealous of. I promise. Alexi is just a friend, never anything more.” Alcina’s hands slide to your hips with a firm grip. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m yours.”

A low purr erupts from deep in her chest as you play to her possessiveness. Her pupils dilate and she leans down into your space, just barely brushing her lips against yours.

“Mine.” She growls.

“Yours. Forever.”

 Alcina’s grip on you tightens as she surges forward, crashing her lips into yours with a growl. Her tongue pries your lips open and she claims your mouth, making you whimper in response. One of her hands leaves your hips and tightly grips the hair on the back of your head and her other hand digs into your hip, no doubt leaving bruises behind. As you pull back to take a breath, Alcina nips at your bottom lip, sucking on it before letting it snap back into place.

Your half-lidded eyes meet hers, a smoldering gold, and she guides your lips back to hers. Just as your lips touch once more, the shrill ring of the telephone snaps you out of the lust-filled moment. Alcina growls against your lips, clearly unhappy with the sudden interruption, and releases the grip in your hair to pick up the receiver.

“Yes?” She all but growls. Her eyes roll as she lets out a huff through her nose. You can tell that this is probably an important business call she’s going to have to take, instead of telling them to call back later so the two of you can continue what you’ve started - which is likely what she would prefer to do right now. “Ah, Mr. Botezatu, I’ve been expecting your call. No, this isn’t a bad time at all.” She says practically through her teeth.

Alcina looks down at you and pulls away the hand she’s been mindlessly caressing your hip with to cover the end of the receiver. 

“I’m sorry.” She mouths before leaning into your ear. “I must take this, draga mea. But we shall continue this later. Understood?” She nips at your neck, catching you by surprise as you try to silence the small squeal you let out. Alcina’s chest rumbles with a deep chuckle as she pulls away and turns her attention back to the phone call.

Giving her a nod, you climb off of her lap and just before you’re out of reach, Alcina lands a firm smack to your behind. You turn to give her a playful glare and all you receive back is a wink and a smirk before you turn and leave her office.

The rest of the day was spent with the girls going over more plans for the party. They did their best to keep as much of it a secret as they could, but they caved and let you in on some of the ideas they had. There was also plenty of complaining about how Alcina ended up taking over the majority of the planning. They batted their eyelashes at you, hoping to sway you in convincing Alcina to let them back in on the bigger plans; but even you knew that once Alcina had a vision, nothing you could do would get her to relent.

Dinner came and went and Alcina was still cooped up in her office. You decided to bring her a bottle of wine and her favorite glass so she would at least have something to eat.

“Enter.” She said after you knocked on the door.

When you walked into the room, Alcina looked up and her demeanor brightened significantly.

“One moment.” She mouthed, holding up a finger, turning her attention back to the phone. “Yes, thank you. Yes, the next batch is set to ship next week and the following will ship early spring. Excellent. Have a wonderful evening.”

She returns the phone to its cradle and lets out a sigh before shifting her gaze back to you.

“To what do I owe the pleasure, draga?” She says, resting her chin in her hand.

“You missed dinner, so I figured I’d bring you something to drink while you were working.”

Alcina looks over at the clock and exhales as she reads the time. Her eyes flick back to you, with an apologetic look.

“I am sorry, draga. I’ve been so wrapped up with work I didn’t even realize the time.”

“It’s alright. The girls and I understand.” You say as you place the wine and glass on her desk.

“Thank you, my sweet.” She says as she leans down and pecks your lips. The phone rings and Alcina rolls her eyes. “One moment, draga.” She says before picking up the phone. “House Dimi- Ugh. Karl. Yes?” She says with an even more exaggerated eye roll. “Well, it’s about time you gave me your RSVP. They were due over a week ago! Although I shouldn’t be surprised, it’s not like a mutt like you can read.”

You hear Karl yell something over the phone and Alcina pinches the bridge of her nose and exhales.

“Of course you were the last one to respond!” She says. “Yes, even Moreau responded, on time.” Alcina looks at you and shakes her head at whatever Karl says. “Yes, Mother Miranda was the very first person to respond - of course she is attending!” She yells.

Your eyes widen and you freeze in place. Why it had never occurred to you that Mother Miranda would also be invited and possibly attend was beyond you, but the thought of being in the same room again as her scares you and your fingers absent-mindedly trace the light scar on your chest from her claws.

Alcina notices your thousand yard stare and rushes Karl off of the phone.

“Draga?” She says, cupping your cheek. “Are you alright?”

Snapping out of your daze, you meet her eyes. “Yeah, I just didn’t think about the fact that Mother Miranda will be there.”

Alcina takes the hand you’re tracing the scar with and places a kiss across your knuckles.

“Fret not, draga mea. She won’t harm you again. I promise.”

“Are you sure?” You ask.

“Yes, draga, I’m sure.”

Alcina cups your cheek and pulls you in for a soft yet passionate kiss. You feel the tension melt away at the touch of her lips and your shoulders relax.

 “Are you almost finished?”

“Nearly. I just have one more call I have to make.”

Alcina glares at the phone, ready to be done for the day and you bite back a giggle.

“Is it an important call?”

“I wouldn’t say it’s important but it does have to be done today. Although I am anticipating it to be boring, it will likely be a short call, thank the Black God.”

“Well, I can keep you company if you’d like.”

“I’d always like your company, draga.” She says with a smile as she goes to pour herself a glass of wine.

Alcina drinks half the glass before refilling it and picking up the phone once more to dial the number. She motions for you to come closer and scoops you up into one of her arms and you settle onto her lap. Curling into her, you rest your head on her chest and she keeps a protective arm around you as the person on the other end of the line answers.

Her fingers dance mindlessly across the tops of your thighs while she speaks to whoever it is on the other end of the line. She only removes her hand once in a while to write in her ledger laid out on the desk in front of her or to take a sip of her wine.

The conversation only lasts about half an hour before Alcina finally hangs up. As soon as she returns the phone to its cradle, Alcina stands with you in her arms and whisks you out of the office, towards her chambers. After ducking through the door to her chambers, she kicks it closed behind her and lays you down on her bed. Without saying a word she captures your lips in a passionate kiss and strips you bare.

“Now,” she says as she looks up and down your naked form. “Where were we earlier?”

A faint blush covers your chest, neck, and face and Alcina picks up right where the two of you left off earlier in the day, making sure there are no interruptions this time as she takes you over and over again.

The party grows closer and closer, with deliveries arriving nearly every day, even Donna stops by and takes your measurements for a custom dress. The two of you talk about what you want the dress to look like and settle on a design and what fabric to use. You also got to finally meet The Duke when he visited the castle and Donna placed an order with him for the fabric. Whatever you expected the Duke to look like, you were not expecting him to look like that. The aura he gave off was mildly unsettling, but he also seemed incredibly cheerful. Truthfully, you weren’t sure what you thought of the large man, but you decided not to think too much into it for your sanity. He seemed like he was the kind of person that was nearly impossible to figure out.

Bela, Daniela, and Cassandra grow more and more excited each day, especially since it’s starting to grow colder at night and their time outside is limited to the afternoons. They continue to pester you about what you want for your birthday, even though you insist that they don’t have to get you any presents. They, like their mother, are as stubborn as they come.

As much stress this party is causing the staff, you notice that as the party gets closer, they also grow more excited. Aside from the dedicated servers, most of the staff will be allowed to enjoy the party at their leisure, something you insisted Alcina allowed, and you can feel the anticipation in the air. Zina seems eager for the event as well, even though she will be manning the serving team. You can almost hear the excitement in her voice when she talks about it.

Finally, the morning of the party arrives and the castle is buzzing with excitement. Maids are scurrying around with last minute preparations and the girls can hardly contain themselves. So much so that the three of them are actually ready early - hours early at that. Alcina’s already building anxiety nearly skyrockets when they show up to her study nearly three hours before the start time dressed and ready. The girls have never been able to keep themselves presentable for more than an hour at most, but they promise up and down that they won’t ruin their dresses or hair and makeup before the party.

She sends them out with a wave of her hand as she goes back to finish the little bit of paperwork she has left for the day.

Meanwhile, you try to help with final preparations but every time you try, Zina or one of the maids shoo you away. Apparently it’s frowned upon to help to set up for your own party so you decide to distract yourself with a new book in the library.

Luckily, the new book sucks you in and before you know it, Daniela flies into the library.

“Dani, you look so pretty!” You say after you look up from your book and take in the girl before you.

“Thank you! Aunt Donna made my dress and Cass and Bela helped me with my hair and makeup!”

Daniela is in a form fitting floor length emerald green dress with long sleeves and a plunging neckline. Her red hair, as usual, is shaved on one side but the other side has near-perfect beachy waves. Her makeup isn’t subtle, but not heavy either and her eyeshadow beautifully accents her golden eyes.

“Come on!” She says as she grabs your hand. “We have to get you ready!”

“I thought Zina was gonna help me get ready?” You assumed since she helped you get ready for your date with Alcina a few weeks ago that she would also be the one helping you get ready tonight.

“Nope! She’s super busy making sure everything is perfect, so mother asked us to help you.”

“Oh,” it’s not that you don’t trust the girls to help you, but you know how chaotic they can get, especially if they start fighting and you don’t want to end up looking insane because all three of them wanted to do something different. “Alright.”

“Don’t worry, we already promised mother we wouldn’t fight and you get the final say on everything!” She says, as if she read your mind.

“If you say so.” You say with a playful chuckle.

Daniela takes you to Bela’s room where Bela and Cassandra are already waiting to help you get ready. Both girls look absolutely stunning. Bela is in a strapless a-line burgundy dress with her hair half up-half down. The parts of her hair that are half up are braided beautifully across the back of her head and the rest hangs down in pretty waves. Her makeup is minimal and she looks like a natural beauty. Cassandra is in a floor length metallic gold dress with a slit up the side, a straight neckline and thin straps. Unlike Bela, her makeup is heavier with dark eyes, winged eyeliner, and a bold lip. But she still looks just as gorgeous as her sisters. Her thick black hair is pulled back into a messy ponytail.

You take a moment to engrain the way all three girls look into your memory. Not only is it so special to you that they would get all dressed up for your party, but this is the first and probably last time that you’ll see all three of them dressed so nicely without a hair out of place or blood splatter anywhere. They all look truly gorgeous and it warms your heart to see them like this.

“Ready?” Daniela asks, practically vibrating with excitement.

Sensing the excitement in the girls brings a smile to your face, you’re really looking forward to spending this time with them.

“You bet! Let’s do this!”

The three of you discuss what you want to do with your hair and makeup and once a plan is set in place, the girls get to work.

Cassandra paints your nails as Daniela does your makeup and Bela does your hair. You’ve never been pampered like this before and as unusual as the feeling is, you’re truly enjoying yourself. As you look at the mirror while the girls work on you, your eyes travel down to the light scar on your chest and the much more noticeable one on your neck.

“Hey Dani, are you able to cover these up at all?” You ask quietly as your free hand runs over the scars.

The chatter amongst the girls stops and they try not to look at you with pity in their eyes. Daniela takes a look at them with sad eyes and meets your gaze.

“I can definitely cover the ones on your chest.” She says, dabbing concealer onto your skin. “But this one,” she says, gesturing to your neck scar. “I can put some makeup on it to make it less noticeable but I don’t think I’ll be able to completely cover it.”

Meeting her gaze, you see the sadness in her eyes. Looking back into the mirror, you see Bela focusing herself on your hair and Cassandra is staring at your nails as if they personally offended her. It’s always so interesting to see how differently the girls react to that day. Daniela wears her heart on her sleeve, Bela will almost always focus on something else so she doesn’t have to think about it, and Cassandra is still angry about what happened. Even though she’s forgiven Alcina, she still harbors some resentment about the whole thing.

“That’s fine, whatever you can do. Thanks Dani.” You say with a smile.

Daniela smiles and continues working on your makeup. After a few minutes, the chatter picks back up and the four of you go back to laughing and poking fun at each other.

Finally, your hair, makeup, and nails are done. The four of you decided on leaving your hair down in curls, pinning one side back and allowing the rest to fall down your back and a little over your other shoulder. It also helps to hide what the makeup couldn’t of the scar on your neck. For makeup, you settled on a natural, but not minimal, look with a red lip to match the red Cassandra painted your nails with.

“Now for the dress!” Daniela says as she flies to Bela’s wardrobe and pulls out the garment bag. 

Daniela unzips it and reveals the dress you and Donna spent hours discussing. It’s the first time any of you have seen it and you are stunned at her work. The black sequins sparkle beautifully in the light and you can’t wait to try it on.

You can hear the girls flies buzzing in excitement as you change into the dress and when you step out from behind the dressing screen, the three of them let out an audible gasp. Turning to look in the mirror, the biggest smile pulls across your face.

“You look beautiful.” Bela says as she stands next to you and fixes a stray hair.

Looking over, you can see Daniela covering her mouth with tears in her eyes and you pull her in for a hug.

“Oh, bug! Don’t cry, you’ll ruin your makeup.” You say with a laugh.

Daniela pulls herself together and wraps her arms around you, giving you too tight of a squeeze before letting go.

“It’s a shame really,” Cassandra begins to say and Bela immediately stares daggers at her. “It’s such a pretty dress and there’s no way mom isn’t literally tearing it off of you later tonight.” She says almost too casually.

“Cassandra!” You say as your face turns bright red.

“Tell me I’m wrong?” She deadpans.

“Cass! Gross!” Daniela whines.

“Alright, enough!” Bela says. “You look absolutely stunning and mother is going to be beside herself when she sees you.”

“Thank you so much, girls. I really, really appreciate you guys helping me get ready tonight.”

“Of course!” Bela says.

“I can’t wait for your entrance! You’re gonna knock everyone dead!” Daniela exclaims and you feel your face drop.

“My… entrance? What do you mean?”

“Your entrance! You know, when you enter the party in front of everyone?” Daniela says.

“I - I don’t get it. Are we not just greeting people as they come in?” You ask nervously.

“What?! No!” Daniela says.

“All of the guests are currently arriving. We’re supposed to let Zina know when you’re ready so they can prepare for your entrance.” Bela explains.

“So everyone is going to be looking at me?”

“Duh, it's your party.” Cassandra says.

“Oh god, I don’t want to do that! Why didn’t Alcina tell me about this?”

“Probably because she didn’t want you to freak yourself out too much beforehand.” Daniela says with a shrug.

You start pacing as your nerves skyrocket.

“Oh god, I - I can’t do that! I’m gonna fall down the stairs or something and completely embarrass myself! I don’t want to be the center of attention like that in front of the entire village!”

“You’ll be fine! Just breathe.” Bela says as she tries, and fails, to comfort you.

“Hey!” Cassandra yells, snapping you out of your near meltdown and grabs your shoulders. “You’re going to go out there and woo the shit out of everyone, our mother included. You look hot as shit and you won’t make an ass of yourself. Don’t worry, you got this.”

“Do I?”

“You do.”

Taking a deep breath, just barely settling your nerves, you give Cassandra a nod and Daniela flies out of the room to tell Zina you’re ready.

A few moments later, Zina knocks on the door and walks in. Your jaw drops when you first see her. You’ve never seen her in anything other than her uniform before, no less all dressed up. She’s wearing a long sleeve black dress with her salt and pepper hair tied up into a perfect bun at the back of her neck. She’s wearing minimal makeup, but more than she wears on an average day. She looks so pretty and you can’t help but smile.

“Zina, you look beautiful!” You say.

“Oh, this old thing? Thank you. You look absolutely beautiful yourself, dear.” She says with a warm smile.

“Thank you.”

“Alright girls, your mother is waiting for you. Off you go!” She says as she waves the girls away. They give you each one last “you got this” before flying out of the room.

“Ready?” Zina asks.

“I don’t know, I wasn’t expecting to have to do a whole entrance.” You say nervously.

“Don’t worry, the Countess will be right there. Just focus on her and all will be fine.” She says.

“Alright, if you say so.”

“Let's get going, we don’t want to miss your cue.”

In the main hall most of the guests are gathered and the last of them make their way in. Some have already gone into the ballroom where the party will be hosted, the rest wait in the hall to watch your entrance. Zina stops you before you turn the corner and has you wait as she goes to tell Alcina you’re ready to go.

Alcina nods and bends through the doorway and heads to the stairs. The guests all applaud as she makes her way down, stopping at the landing to address the crowd.

“Thank you all so very much for accepting the invitation to Castle Dimitrescu for this wonderful event.” She says and the audience applauds. “This is the first time in decades that House Dimitrescu has opened its doors for such an event, and I am proud and honored to be your host this evening.” As she begins to descend down the stairs, Bela, Cassandra and Daniela appear at the top and make their way down, meeting their mother at the foot of the stairs.

She cups each of their faces as they pass her and tells them how absolutely beautiful they all are.

Zina leads you around the corner to the door Alcina stepped through and makes you wait before sending you through.

“And now, our guest of honor, Y/N.” Alcina says.

Zina gives you a little nudge and you freeze in place. Nearly the entire village is waiting at the bottom of those stairs to see you. Mother Miranda will be in that crowd and that thought alone is nearly enough to have you turn and run away.

Noticing the panic surging in your eyes, Zina takes hold of your hand and you snap out of your spiral. Your eyes meet her kind, blue eyes and she smiles at you.

“Go on, dear. You will be fine. Just look at the Lady, you’ll be great.”

With the ounce of confidence she gave you, you take a step through the door before it vanishes. As you step towards the stairs, gasps fill the room as the crowd sees you for the first time and applause fills the air. Your eyes nervously scan the faces, desperately looking for a familiar one. Unfortunately, the first person you see is Mother Miranda and her eyes are locked onto you with a cold gaze. Your heartbeat begins to pick up and you grip the bannister harder trying to steady yourself at the top of the stairs. It seems almost impossible to take your eyes off of hers until you feel another set on you. Looking down, you see Alcina at the bottom of the stairs and you immediately relax.

The look of shock on her face melts into pure happiness as her smile grows wide and you start making your way down the stairs towards her. Even if you tried, even if you wanted to, there was no way you would ever be able to take your eyes off of her. The eggplant gown she’s wearing compliments her complexion beautifully. It’s almost impossible to pull your eyes away from the deep v cut of her dress but your eyes travel down lower and you’re enamored by how perfectly the fabric clings to every one of her curves.

By some miracle, you make it to the landing without tripping or making a fool of yourself and Alcina reaches her hand out for you to take hold of. It takes all of your self control to not throw yourself into her arms and kiss her in front of everyone, but you find the strength to keep your composure. After walking down a few more steps, you take her hand in yours and once you're close enough she leans in.

“You look absolutely stunning, draga mea.” Alcina whispers to you.

“So do you, Alci.” You whisper back.

The applause fades and Alcina turns her attention back to the crowd, your hand still in hers.

“It is truly an honor to reopen my home to celebrate one of the very finest women this village has to offer. Ever since Y/N walked through these castle doors she has brought nothing but light to our once dark home. To show my appreciation for her, I have a gift that very few have had the honor of receiving in House Dimitrescu.” On command, a maid steps forward with a black box in her hand and gives it to Alcina. Alcina lets go of your hand to take the box and faces you once more. “My gift to you, draga mea, will not only offer you protection everywhere you go, but it is also a token of my love and my appreciation for you and I truly hope you will love it.”

Looking into Alcina’s eyes, you see a hint of nervousness and your stomach churns, unsure of why she’s nervous. Alcina opens the box and a sparkle immediately catches your eye. Sitting on pristine black velvet is an absolutely stunning silver and diamond choker necklace. In the center sits the Dimitrescu crest, a beautiful rose with two swords crossed through it. Your jaw drops at the sight of it and you can’t help but cover your mouth with your hands.

“Alcina,” you say. “This is absolutely beautiful.”

Your eyes begin to mist and you look up to meet hers, only to notice hers have begun to water as well.

“Do you really like it?” She whispers.

“I love it. I love it so much. Thank you.” You say.

Without even thinking the both of you lean in and your lips meet in a loving kiss. You can hear a few gasps from the crowd but the both of you ignore it as you pull apart.

“May I?” She asks, gesturing to the necklace.

“Of course.”

Alcina removes the necklace from the box and you turn around and move your hair to allow her to put the necklace on you. The jewelry is ice cold against your skin but quickly warms as she fastens it effortlessly despite the size of her fingers. You trace the crest with your fingers as you turn back around and Alcina looks at you with so much love it takes everything in you not to grab her face and kiss her again.

“Perfect. Absolutely beautiful.” She says.

The two of you stare into each other's eyes for another moment before she addresses the crowd once more.

“Let the celebration commence!”

Right on cue, the music starts up and the serving staff begins to weave in and out of the crowd with trays full of champagne. Alcina guides you down the rest of the stairs and the girls gush over the necklace. The sound of tiny footsteps takes your attention away and you turn around just in time for Elena to jump into your arms, squealing your name.

“Hi my sweet girl!” You say with excitement. “Look at you!” You say as you pull back to look at her. “You look so beautiful!”

“Mommy picked out my dress!” She says as she kicks her feet.

“She picked out such a beautiful one! You must be one of the prettiest girls at the party.”

“Not prettier than you!”

“Somehow I doubt that.” You say as you nuzzle your nose against hers.

Anna and Crina walk up to you, each of them holding onto one of the boys hands, with huge smiles on their faces. You hug and kiss each of them with one arm as Elena continues to cling to you before you greet your aunt and uncle.

Both of them seem wildly uncomfortable and your aunt tries and fails to hide the look of displeasure on her face when she looks at you and Alcina. Your uncle doesn’t even try to hide his scowl.

“Elena, come here please.” Your aunt says, taking the girl from your arms. She stares at the choker necklace Alcina gifted you and glares at you.

The look she gives you takes you aback and you unconsciously step backwards into Alcina. Alcina’s large hand settles on your shoulder and grounds you.

“I do hope the trip from the village this evening was pleasant.” Alcina says, feigning politeness.

“It was.” Your aunt says.

Your uncle steps up to you and leans in to get a better look at your necklace. He lets out a scoff and looks you in the eyes.

“I never thought you would be one to whore yourself out.” He says quietly enough so the kids can’t hear him. “And to this monster? You are a disgrace. It’s a good thing your parents are dead. Because this would surely kill them.”

Your heart sinks into your chest and the grip Alcina has on your shoulder tightens. A low growl erupts from deep in her chest and your uncle looks up to glare at her. He’s only able to hold her stare for a couple of seconds before the death glare she’s sending his way is too much for him to bear and he walks away. The girls’ flies buzz angrily as they seethe, all three of them staring up at their mother waiting for her to give them permission to tear him limb from limb. Alcina raises her hand to silence them. They open their mouths to protest but one look from Alcina stops them.

The sound of someone clearing their throats takes your attention away and you look over to see Mother Miranda standing next to the group. She’s sporting a smile yet the icy blue of her eyes is as frightening as ever. Her eyes drift over towards your aunt and Elena and your aunt bows your head.

“Mother Miranda. It is an honor.” She says as her voice shakes.

Mother Miranda nods at your aunt and doesn’t take her eyes away from her or Elena. The look she gives them makes your stomach twist and Alcina can feel the nerves rippling off of you.

“I hope you enjoy the party.” She says to your aunt with a smile that doesn’t even begin to reach her eyes.

Your aunt nods, taking that as her exit and quickly gathers the kids, beelining it out of the main hall after your uncle.

Mother Miranda’s cold eyes meet yours and she gives you a sickly sweet smile.

“Happy birthday, my child.”

“Thank you, Mother Miranda.” You say as you bow your head.

“Mother Miranda, thank you for gracing us with your presence this evening.” Alcina says, mustering up as much sincerity as possible.

“And miss such a noteworthy event?” Miranda responds. “I see you were gifted the Dimitrescu crest.” She says as she looks at your necklace. “Very rarely is something so valuable gifted to others. You indeed must be quite special to my daughter.”

You swallow and take in a shaky breath.

“I am honored to have been gifted something so meaningful. It is something I will cherish for the rest of my life.” You say as you try to keep your voice steady.

“As you should.” Miranda says. “Enjoy your party. Alcina.” She says, nodding at Alcina who returns the gesture before disappearing into the crowd.

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding and Alcina turns you around to face her.

“Are you alright?” She asks as she cups your face.

“Yeah. It’s just - that was a lot.”

“I know. I’m so sorry that this is how your night started, draga mea. Is there anything I can do?”

“No, I don’t think so. I just need a moment.”

“Take all the time you need, iubirea mea.”

Alcina caresses your cheek before pulling her hand away. Zina walks up to Alcina and whispers something and Alcina nods at her.

“There’s something that needs my attention, will you be alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine, I promise.”

“Don’t let them spoil your evening my love. You deserve the world, go have fun.”

Alcina and Zina walk away and you take a minute to calm your nerves before weaving through the crowd of people. A few villagers nod at you, some wish you a happy birthday, others try to hide the look of disgust on their faces. It’s truly a mixed bag of faces and reactions.

After a few minutes of wandering around you hear a voice behind you.

“Oh my God! Who’s that hot piece of ass in the black dress?!”

Quickly turning around, you see Alexi with the biggest shit-eating grin on his face.

“Alexi!” You squeal as you run towards him and jump into his arms.

He hugs you tight and spins you around before setting you back down on the ground.

“Holy shit look at you!” He says as he eyes you up and down. “You look amazing!” His eyes move back to your face and they soften. “I can’t believe you’re real, that you’re here! Alive!” 

Tears prick at his eyes as he pulls you in for another bone-crushing hug. You hug him back just as tightly.

“When I heard what happened I thought the worst was gonna happen. I thought you were - I never thought I’d see you again.” He says into your shoulder. Tears start to well in your eyes, just before they fall he says “Fuck! You even smell good!” and you begin to laugh.

“I missed you so much.” You say as you part.

“Why didn’t you write?! I saw Anna and she told me she saw you a few months ago and said that you were happy and safe but I didn’t believe it!”

“I know, I’m so sorry. Things have been so crazy here. I should have let you know I was okay. I’m so sorry, Alexi.”

“Well, you’re a bitch for not writing, but I’m so relieved that you’re okay so I guess you’re forgiven.”

The two of you laugh and hug once more. A server comes by and offers you champagne and you each take a glass.

“Oh my god!” Alexi says as he goes to take a sip, pulling the glass away from his lips. “Okay was I hallucinating or did you and Lady D actually kiss?” You nearly spit out your drink as he continues. “I was so far back but I saw you lean in and then heard a gasp and unless you happened to fall and eat shit, you definitely kissed that giant.” Your cheeks turn bright red and Alexi’s jaw drops. “Oh my god you did! Was that the first time you’ve kissed her?! Shit, I knew you liked older women but damn.”

“I - we -”

“Oh my god that wasn’t the first time you kissed her was it?!” You continue to flounder and Alexi gets louder and more excited. “Bitch I can’t believe you didn’t write to me and tell me you kissed her! You’re unforgiven.” He says as he takes a sip of his champagne. “Fuck, this is delicious. Okay, so how many times have you kissed her? Have you done more than just kiss? Did you two hook up?”

You get more flustered and cover your burning face with your hands and Alexi’s jaw hits the floor.

“Oh my god.” He says more quietly. “Have you two like,” he makes a scissoring motion with his fingers.

“Alexi!” You yell and smack his arm. Mortified, you look around to see if anyone else has their eyes on the two of you.

“OH MY GOD!” Alexi yells, gaining the attention of guests in your immediate vicinity and you slap your hand over his mouth and shush him.

“Shut up!” You say as you pull him to a secluded corner of the main hall. “Come here.”

When you finally get away from most of the crowd you pull your hand away from his mouth and it hangs open.

“Oh my god you two totally fucked!” The gears in his brain turn and you see a lightbulb go off. “She took your virginity?!” He says a little too loudly and your skin burns with embarrassment as a couple villagers walking by look over at the two of you. You flash them a polite smile before you glare at your best friend.

“Will you be quiet?!”

“Sorry! Sorry. But holy shit, girl, that gigantic woman took your v-card?!” Unable to verbally answer, you cover your face with your hands and shake your head. “Oh my god, how did she not split you in half?!”

“Alexi! She’s doesn’t have a -”

“She doesn’t need to with fingers that big! God, her strap must be huge. You poor, poor girl.”

“Oh my god. We haven’t - I don’t know if she even - we haven’t gotten that far, yet.”

“What the hell have you been waiting for?!”

“Things got complicated! I’m fine, but it hasn’t been all sunshine and rainbows since I got here, okay?”

“And you’re gonna sit here and act like I’m not going to have you explain that further?” He says as he finishes his champagne with an eyebrow raised at you.

“I can’t get into all of that right now, okay? But I promise I will later.”

“Bitch, you better.”

“I will, I promise.” You say as you grab his hands and give them a squeeze.

“Ahem.” 

You hear someone clear their throat behind you and jump, releasing Alexi’s hand and turning around. Behind you, Alcina is standing there with a hand on her hip and her eyes narrowed at Alexi.

“Alcina! You scared me.”

“Are you enjoying your party, draga?” She asks you, yet her eyes continue to glare at Alexi.

“Yes! It’s so beautiful. Alexi and I were just catching up. Alcina, this is my best friend, Alexi. Alexi, this is Alcina.” You say, trying to diffuse the tension.

Alexi stands there, pinned by her glare and you nudge him to break him out of the spell.

“Oh, uh, it’s an honor to meet you, my Lady.” He says with a shaky voice as he gives a small bow.

Alcina purses her lips and looks down at you. Before she goes to speak, one of the stablehands steps in and addresses Alcina. He’s a bit taller than you, about the same height as Alexi with ash blonde hair and broad shoulders. You can tell by the way Alexi is looking at him that he completely forgot about you and Alcina.

“I’m so sorry to interrupt my Lady.” He says with a bow. “But may I borrow a servant or two? One of the horses stepped on one of the vineyard workers' feet and potentially broke his foot. We are having a difficult time dealing with all the horses with one less worker.”

Alcina sighs and you look over at Alexi and nudge him, nodding your head towards the stablehand.

“Oh! Uh, I - I can help!” He says almost too eagerly. Alcina looks at him and he clears his throat and gathers himself. “I mean, I tend to my fathers horses all the time. I can lend a hand, if you need.” You nudge him again. “My Lady.”

Alcina looks at you and you give her a nod and smile at Alexi.

“Well, if you have experience with horses, I don’t see why not.”

“Oh shit, really?” Alexi says and Alcina glares at him. “I - I mean, thank you my Lady.”

You smile at Alexi who introduces himself to the stablehand and they walk towards the doors together. With a laugh, you shake your head at your friend.

“That is your best friend?”

“Alcina!” You say with a laugh. “Be nice, he was nervous.”

“Mhm. Yet he still seemed quite friendly with you.” She says as her eyes stay on the two men as they exit the main hall.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“You two seemed awfully touchy, when I approached.” Alcina crosses her arms across her chest and purses her lips.

“What are you - I was just holding his hands?”

“He knows you are mine. Yet he put his hands on you anyway.”

“Alcina, what’s going on?”

“I understand he is your best friend, but I do not trust those man-things. Especially around you. There is only one thing they want and they will do anything to get it.”

You stand there with your eyebrows furrowed. On one hand, you know what she means, but on the other - you realize she’s missing a key piece to the puzzle and you bark out a laugh and cover your mouth.

“Draga, this is no laughing matter.”

“Oh my god, Alcina, do you think he was hitting on me?”

“In all my years of life, men have only ever wanted one thing -”

“Alcina!” You say, abruptly ending her rant. Her eyes narrow at you as you continue to laugh. “He wasn’t hitting on me! Alcina, Alexi is gay. He’s not into women!”

Alcina opens her mouth to speak and closes it. She does this a few more times as a light blush dusts across her cheeks and you continue to laugh.

“I - I was not made aware of his preferences.”

As hard as you try to stifle your laughter, it still comes out from between your fingers as your hand is clasped over your mouth. Alcina is embarrassed as it is, you don’t want to make it any worse, but you can’t help but find this situation hysterical.

“It is not funny, draga.” Alcina says as she tries to hold back her smile. Despite her embarrassment, she too finds the situation amusing.

“Oh come on, it’s a little funny.” You say as you start to gather yourself.

Alcina shakes her head at you.

“Come, you haven’t even made it into the main event yet, draga.” 

[blackaquokat]

Hi Kat~

I hope you're doing well! You've graced my inbox several times, and more often than not, your asks give me little bursts of inspiration for snippets.

If you're comfortable sharing, I was wondering—how would your MC make Chris/Jade or the parents suffer? Or, if you're not up for answering that, I’d love to hear some details about your OCs!

Either way, I hope you're having a great day/night, and I’m looking forward to seeing you in my inbox or the comment section!

LEA!!! HOLY SHIT, HI!!!

My god, this is such an honor, I'm not even joking!

Okay, so when I first mentioned my MCs, I was still using previous OCs from other IFs , but now I think I've OFFICIALLY adjusted them into true Love & Leases fashion, so I'll do a post about them later with picrew images and everything, but in the meantime--

Peridot "Dot", my Cam-mancer (formerly Genevieve), would not go in with the Intention of making anyone hurt. It's easier for her to just cut them out of her life. BUT, that doesn't mean they won't be seeing her around. Dot posts on socials fifty times more than she ever did before, because suddenly it's like this entire weight is off of her shoulders and well, Cam takes too good of pictures not to post when they're finally together.

Dot honestly just decides to live well with the knowledge that her family and Chris will never be allowed to touch her existence again. That being said. Doesn't mean Dot won't be passive aggressive. They might get, "You are Not Invited to the Wedding" Invitations in the mail. Jade might get a piece of jewelry in the mail: something that she gave to Dot years ago because she didn't like it and though it was more to Dot's "taste", and it was something that had been given to Jade by Chris or her parents. so when that comes in the mail at a strategic time, it won't be pretty.

Jumana, my G mancer (formerly Quinn) on the other hand, has Fuck Around time. If she hadn't been so shell-shocked when finding Chris and Jade doing the Deed, she would have been grabbing inconvenient shit right there with Cam. Would have grabbed Chris's favorite shirt/underpants, cut them up, and then mailed them back. Would arrange friendly dinners with ALL her family's friends, be on her absolute best behavior when spending time with them (which she's not known for with Jade and her parents) so that her family looks bad for their decisions to support Jade and Chris.

She would find the time to tell Chris at one point that they were a rebound from G. Would remind Jade that if Chris cheated on Jumana, what would stop them from doing the same to her down the line? Or reminding Jade that the spotlight can burn, so be careful where she seeks it. And well. Jumana doesn't exactly keep what happened a secret. So that spotlight might burn Jade faster than she expects.

Anyway, those are my initial thoughts. Now that I have their characters more fleshed out, I'm excited to work with them more to fit the story! I'll make sure to tag you when I make the intro post for them!

[hippolotamus]

"How can you act like nothing happened?" + buddie if it inspires u <3333

Hi, April! Indeed it did inspire (just took a hot second to get all the details and i hope you like it) 💖🫶

What happens to them after? Buck had asked Dr. Salazar. They just go back to their same old lives? Go back to being the same old people? 

Some do.

When he was in her office, posing that question, he doesn’t even consciously know if he had Eddie’s experience in mind. Well, one of Eddie’s experiences. 

The soul shifting instance of Eddie falling in the middle of the street like a ragdoll. Not to mention the others. Eddie being buried alive under forty feet of earth. Eddie being trapped in a burning house, surrounded by fire on all sides. 

Buck’s had his fair share of near misses, they all have. So why does Eddie’s nonchalance bother him so much now? Is it because this time Buck actually died? For ‘three minutes and seventeen seconds’, Eddie corrected Chief Williams. He previously told Buck ‘you think you’re expendable, but you’re wrong’.

One time Buck asks what death was like for Eddie, and he answers as casually as if Buck asked about his day. 

Then I thought ‘this is it’. This is the last moment of my life. He shrugged. Then I woke up in the hospital.

Buck barges through the front door. No knocking, no checking if Eddie has company. He finds him folding towels at the dining room table, humming to himself. 

“Hey, Buck. Wasn’t expecting you… today.” Eddie trails off as he notices Buck’s demeanor.

“How can you act like nothing happened?” 

“Excuse me?” Eddie pinches his brows together in that way that Buck knows he’s flipping through a mental rolodex of recent memories. “Is this about the casserole last week? Because of the-”

“What? What about the- you know what? Nevermind, that’s not why I’m here.” Buck folds his arms across his chest, adding, “But we’ll come back to that.”

Eddie nods slowly, hand drifting to the laundry basket to pick up the next towel. “So, why are you here?”

“Because, Eddie. You told me I wasn’t expendable. You made me Christopher’s legal guardian if something happens to you.” He sniffs, angry that his emotions are choosing now to break loose, after weeks of feeling numb. “For Christ’s sake, you knew exactly how long I was dead.”

The assertion makes Eddie flinch, makes him stare a hole into the floor, astutely avoiding Buck’s gaze. 

“But you- you never wanna talk about it. Not when it comes to you.”

“Maybe,” Eddie’s tongue darts out to wet his lips, he cocks his head in annoyance, and Buck knows he’s onto something. He’s struck a nerve. “Maybe, because there’s nothing to talk about.”

“Oh no? Y- you get shot down in Afghanistan, buried alive, shot again in LA, have a fucking breakdown and there’s nothing to talk about?” Buck steps forward, standing directly in front of his best friend, forcing him to look up. “Okay, well what about Chris needing therapy after the tsunami? Huh? What about going to dispatch because – you thought – Chris didn’t want you to be a firefighter anymore? Hell, that eventually got you to patch things up with your old man. But all those other things? Just another day in the life of Eddie Diaz. No need to stick around, folks, nothing happening here.” 

“Christopher is different, Buck. He’s my son.”

“And you’re my best friend. My partner.” My person, he doesn’t say, wiping away the tears rolling down his cheeks. “Doesn’t that mean anything? We’re all just supposed to deal with it if it’s you, and pretend to live our same old lives?”

Eddie purses his lips, backs away. He doesn’t even look in Buck’s direction when he says, “Please leave.”

Buck freezes. “What?”

“Get out, Buck. Before I do say something and we both regret it.”

He could fight back, keep prodding at the singular bruise spread across both of them. He wants to, wants Eddie to yell and scream. Something. Anything. In the end Buck isn’t sure why he doesn’t. All he knows is that in the space of a breath all the fight leaves him. All the fire and outrage deflates, making him feel emptier than before. 

When he reaches the front door, Eddie still won’t look at him. So he listens and turns the handle, walks over the threshold. He keeps going until he reaches the jeep, until he’s sitting in the driver’s seat, until he’s several streets away and sure no one will see him. Then he crumbles. He falls apart, wracked with sobs he knows will leave his body hollow and aching later. 

And he wonders- should he have kept pretending, too?

send an angsty prompt

[demiaroacejadeharley]

It's sad to know that there are people on the internet hating on a fictional minor for wanting to distance herself from her neglectful cheating dad. And what's even sadder is seeing those same people blaming her mother for manipulating her, even those that said minor made that choice on her own.

I realize that Helluva Boss will probably never go into detail about Stella and Octavia's relationship prior to Stolas's affair. We don't know if Stella's pregnancy to Octavia was planned, and we don't know how Stella treated Octavia when Octavia was a child. We can't forget the fact that the marriage between Stolas and Stella was arranged. The arranged marriage was planned when both adults were children, but we never got to see Stella and Stolas meeting for the first time. We don't know how Stella acted when she met Stolas for the first time. Knowing the current direction of Helluva Boss, we probably will never see any flashback scenes of Stella and Stolas meeting each other, the wedding, and maybe Octavia's birth and a more detailed walk through Octavia's childhood.

Vivziepop wants to push the narrative of Stella being an evil person. At the same time, Stella doesn't have a well thought out backstory. There's very little information about Stella besides what the show gave us. And she will possibly never get a proper backstory, knowing the way Viv treats her female characters, both good or bad, despite Viv being a woman herself.

I'm surprised that Helluva Boss was able to get two (and now three) seasons after the initial plot of the show being railroad by Stolas and Blitzo's toxic "relationship". The plot went from focusing on a mercenary group trying to make a living off of killing humans to a toxic fujoshi nightmare. Season three comes out in 2026 (probably because Vivziepop can work on season 2 of Hazbin Hotel) and would be surprised that this show (and Hazbin) makes it after two or three seasons.

[stupidlittlespirit]

Can you give me more examples of Alex disliking Ford? I’ve always kinda felt it, but I never really had much of a real grasp on it.

Okay so this is the part where I look crazy because I can't give you specific examples LMAO but I'll try to explain what I mean. It's more in what he doesn't say than what he does.

Alex doesn't ever come right out and state 'I hate Ford', but he implies his distaste for him through his treatment of him. The way he hasn't gone harder/more explicit on drawing lines about Ford's abuse, or talking about how Ford suffered terribly during the time he was alone, for example. The way he blames Ford inherently for a lot of stuff that Ford, while not blameless, isn't fully at fault for. It's little things, and I'll detail them below.

TW below: Abuse, discussions of victimhood and irl consequences.

He extends more sympathy to other characters whereas Ford is sort of an afterthought. I don't actually think Alex has fleshed Ford out very well in his own head. Remember when he said that he didn't even know that Bill was going to be the main villain? They were flying by the seat of their pants for a lot of the series and it's quite clear in some elements. Obviously, the series is wonderful, I love it, it's one of my favourite shows of all time and Alex is a true talent, but it's obvious which characters are more important to him. He favours Bill a lot, too, so when his disliking of Ford/being ambivalent about him meets his enjoyment of Bill, only one of those dogs is coming out of the fight alive and it ain't Ford.

I think Alex is a genuine talent, I admire his work and his writing. He seems lovely. But I do also think he lacks in skill when it comes to complex abuse depictions.

I see a running theme that he isn't very good at portraying it specifically via 'unlikeable' characters. I mentioned on a previous post that he did this with Pacifica until people expressed empathy with her, and then he decided to round her out. He stated that himself during an old interview; I can't source it but I remember it vividly because it flagged red in my head that he couldn't see she was just a product of her environment. She's a twelve year old girl, for god's sake, she isn't 'just a horrible person', it makes a person sound like Bill when they beef with kids like that lol.

Another thing is in TBoB, there's a really horrendous page where Ford is tortured. It is visceral and awful, and tbh I wish I'd have been able to ask Alex what his top 5 horror movies were when I saw his talk because the scene is very reminiscent of a lot of my fav horrors.

But anyway, it is literal torture and it is also communicating about how helpless Ford is. He's a victim and a 'weak one' at that. Nothing he can do will stop Bill's abuse, he's stupid for trying, he's pathetic, he deserves it.

Now, that is a take I see with Ford a lot. He deserves it. He's asking for it. And it's a really upsetting one. It's also a common narrative told by people who blame victims for the abuse they suffered.

Not once have I ever seen Alex defend Ford. Not once have I ever heard him say 'Ford didn't deserve this', 'Ford suffered as much as Stan'. Not once.

Considering that he said he took 'inspiration' from his friend's 'toxic' relationships (I also think this is a strange and slightly perverse thing to do btw), I would have thought he might feel more strongly about pushing away this narrative about victims deserving their treatment.

I, obviously, also don't know for sure that he did take inspo from friends; he could well be describing his own experiences and just not feel comfortable saying so because men do suffer a different kind of stigma around being abused. That's fine, he doesn't have to out himself or anything, that would be horrible. But it's just the way he reacts to fans and speaks about the victim (Ford) that makes me think he's a bit more removed from this specific experience than it being personal.

There are many types of abuse. Ford's experience is familial, relationship-wise (platonic, because nothing about his relationship with Bill is romantic in the most basic sense of the term, if anything you can liken that side of things to sexual abuse) and personal. Ford then abuses himself as a reaction to outside abuse. Not his fault, again, but it does happen and it's a common thing for victims to do. I did.

Ford does nothing but suffer.

I truly don't believe that if you loved and cared for your character, you would be willing to watch your audience tear them apart like that after they had already been through so much and were not actually a villain themselves.

Especially if you had, or knew other people who had, experience with that kind of abuse. He doesn't let it happen to Stan, he came down hard on people when they did it to Dipper, and to Mabel, too.

It would kill me to let my OCs be bastardised like that by an audience and I'd be damned if I did a disservice to victims everywhere over something like this.

I think his lack of care is displayed in his treatment of Ford, as opposed to him outright saying he doesn't like him.

I also understand that this analysis also comes from a deeply personal point of view and my own experience with this topic, too.

This is a TV show, it isn't real and I don't need to take it so seriously, but what I do take seriously is seeing the real world reactions of other people. That does hurt. It hurts to see someone who is (very inelegantly and heavy-handedly, btw) depicted as a victim of abuse be laughed at and made into a joke, or flipped on their head and made to be romanticised with their abuser just to make a ship happen.

Fiction doesn't need to be taken seriously except when the lines begin to blur over into real life. We know people are cruel to irl victims and we can see where these lines blur quite obviously.

I think abuse and uncomfortable topics should be depicted, but I also think that as a creator, if you use them, you have a HUGE responsibility to teach and guide your audience into understanding why these things are bad/what makes them so. You shouldn't make jokes about the topic or encourage other people to go off the rails with it.

You can't control people, of course you can't, but you can hold their hand a bit and show them towards the light. If they choose not to follow it then they're probably not bright enough to pick up what you're putting down and that's on them, but you have to try.

Maybe if I hadn't (and my friends and other victims hadn't) been subjected to exactly the same reaction, we wouldn't feel so strongly about this, but it really does feel like a kick in the teeth to see a large number of people behave so grotesquely about abuse.

And just as an aside: I am a victim, I have been/am an unlikeable one, but it does not mean that I deserved what I got and that goes the same for every other 'unlikeable' victim out there.

*deep breath* but other than that I'm totally normal about Ford and not at all mentally ill :)

[hrizantemy]

Her name was Taryn.

Nesta had learned that much, though she hadn’t bothered to ask at first. It had just come to her one night, somewhere between the second drink and the steady hum of the music in the background. Taryn had introduced herself easily, but that was about all she gave. There were no stories, no explanations, just a quiet presence that seemed to stretch out into the space around them.

And Nesta hadn’t pressed. Not for details, not for more than what was offered. She wasn’t one to pry, especially into someone who had mastered the art of silence the way Taryn had. They didn’t need words to fill the gaps. The tavern’s music spoke enough for both of them, and in the stillness between their conversations, Nesta found an unspoken understanding.

Taryn didn’t talk much about herself either, and in that silence, Nesta had come to appreciate it. They both had their walls, their secrets. Neither of them seemed inclined to tear them down. Sometimes, when Nesta would glance over at Taryn, she would catch that glint of something behind her eyes—something old and knowing. But Taryn didn’t press either. She had her own past, a quiet one that Nesta had no interest in unraveling.

It was an odd sort of companionship, the two of them sharing the space without the need for constant conversation. Neither of them asked questions they weren’t prepared to answer, and in that, there was a strange comfort. They shared the same unspoken understanding: there were things you didn’t need to explain, not when you were already carrying so much.

So, they sat in silence often, watching the night unfold with the music as the only conversation between them. Neither of them bothered to ask why the other was there. Neither of them needed to.

Nesta had long since assumed that Taryn came to the tavern for one of two reasons: to drink or to go home with someone. It was what most people did, after all. The tavern was full of people seeking fleeting comfort, whether it came in the form of a drink or a companion for the night. Yet, Taryn didn’t fit into either of those molds.

She barely drank, always nursing her glass instead of downing it, a contrast to the usual faces that crowded the bar. Her movements were measured, calm, as though she had no real need to escape or forget, unlike many of the others who came to drown their troubles. Taryn’s consumption was almost ritualistic—an occasional sip, a slow swirl of the liquid in her glass, but never enough to abandon control. She was deliberate, thoughtful, as though she had no desire to lose herself in the haze that so many others craved.

And when the night ended, when the music faded and the crowd began to thin, Taryn always left alone. Nesta had watched this countless times—the quiet exit, her back straight and her steps sure, as if she was already on her way to something far more important than whatever was happening inside the tavern.

It was strange to Nesta, the way Taryn moved through the world with such purpose, yet seemed so… untethered. She had expected to see her approach someone, to watch her flirt with a stranger or get lost in a conversation that led to a bed. But it never happened. Taryn didn’t leave with anyone. She just went home by herself, night after night, no strings attached, no attempts at distraction.

Nesta didn’t quite understand it, not at first. It felt unnatural—everyone came to places like this for some kind of escape, didn’t they?

Nesta had long since figured out that Taryn preferred the company of women. It wasn’t something that had come to her immediately—it wasn’t like Taryn wore it on her sleeve—but as time passed, certain things became clear. The way her gaze lingered on women more than on men, the subtle shifts in her demeanor when a woman entered the tavern. It wasn’t overt, but Nesta could sense it, a quiet energy that surrounded Taryn when she spoke to them, an ease that never quite appeared with men. It was something that Nesta had noticed, and, after a while, she couldn’t deny it.

One night, after enough drinks had dulled the sharp edges of her thoughts, Nesta found herself asking the question that had been sitting on the tip of her tongue for weeks. Her words slurred a little, but there was a certain curiosity behind them that couldn’t be ignored. She asked, almost without thinking, “You prefer women, don’t you?”

Taryn had raised an eyebrow at the question, but there was no hesitation in her response. She simply nodded, her lips curling into a small, knowing smile. “I do,” she said, her voice low and unbothered.

Nesta expected something—an uncomfortable pause, maybe, a feeling of rejection or some sort of judgment, but nothing came. There was no judgment in Taryn’s eyes, no moment of awkwardness that made Nesta feel small. It was just… a fact. Something simple, and Nesta had found herself surprisingly unaffected.

She thought she would be offended, that some part of her would react as if Taryn’s admission was something that needed to be dissected or questioned. But it wasn’t. There was no anger, no surprise, just a strange calmness that settled over her, as though Taryn’s truth didn’t change anything between them. It didn’t matter. Taryn didn’t owe her an explanation, and for once, Nesta didn’t feel the need to dissect every detail of it.

After Nesta had figured it out, something began to stir in her thoughts. Night after night, when the tavern was quiet and the music had faded into the background, her mind would return to Taryn and what she had said. Taryn preferred women.

It wasn’t something that Nesta had ever really thought about before, at least not with any depth. She hadn’t been around women like that, not in the way Taryn was. It wasn’t that she disapproved, or even felt disgusted—it was just… foreign to her. Nesta didn’t really understand how someone could love a woman the way Taryn loved them. She couldn’t grasp the feelings, the pull that must have existed there.

She had known attraction—men, their rough hands and demanding gazes—but women? It wasn’t something she had ever considered. How did it feel to want another woman the way she had wanted men, to feel that same fire, that same need? The question lingered in her mind like a dull ache, but Nesta didn’t know how to answer it. She hadn’t experienced it herself, hadn’t felt that longing for someone of the same sex. It made her wonder if there was something wrong with her, or if she was just missing some piece of the puzzle that Taryn had seemed to find so easily.

The confusion would wash over her in waves, late at night when she was alone with her thoughts and the empty glass in her hand. She didn’t understand it. How could someone fall for someone of the same sex, when everything in her had always told her it was supposed to be a man who sparked that desire?

But still, there was no judgment—just curiosity. She wasn’t offended by Taryn’s preferences, but a strange kind of distance remained. It was as though she were on the outside of something, unable to fully comprehend it, even though she wanted to.

Some part of her, deep inside, was disgusted—not with Taryn, but with herself. It wasn’t something she could admit, not even to herself at first, but it gnawed at her. The confusion, the curiosity, the questions—it all circled back to something darker, something deeper.

There was a part of her that felt a strange shame, not for Taryn’s preferences, but for her own inability to understand them. It made her feel… small, as if there was something wrong with her for not being able to accept this part of the world so easily. She wasn’t repulsed by Taryn, not at all. No, it was the way Taryn’s reality highlighted a flaw in her own. A flaw that she wasn’t ready to face.

Nesta had always prided herself on understanding things—on having a handle on what was right, what was wrong, what made sense. She had always known the rules, the roles, the expectations. But this? This was different. It made her feel as if she were somehow behind, unable to catch up with the rest of the world. There was nothing wrong with Taryn, but there was something wrong with her for not immediately understanding it. She hated that she couldn’t just accept it without questioning everything, without feeling like there was something missing inside her.

It wasn’t just confusion. It was shame, like she wasn’t enough—like she was the one who didn’t fit, who couldn’t keep up with what felt like an endless flow of new realities and experiences. She didn’t know if this was something that was wrong with her, or if she simply didn’t belong in this world where there were so many shades of gray she couldn’t even begin to color in.

And the worst part? She couldn’t bring herself to admit it. Not to anyone. Not even to herself in full honesty. So, she buried it, just as she buried so many other things. But it was there, lurking beneath the surface, and every time she saw Taryn, every time she thought of how easily Taryn moved through the world, it stung a little more.

Nesta found herself at the bar again, seated beside Taryn, a drink in hand. She wasn’t sure what brought her here this time. Maybe it was the music, maybe it was the feeling of drowning in the chaos of her thoughts, or maybe it was something about Taryn that made her feel a bit safer, even when her mind was a tangle of contradictions.

The drink was strong, just like the last time, and as it burned down her throat, something in her cracked open. The questions that had been bubbling inside her for weeks, the confusion, the shame, the disgust—everything that had been building up inside her suddenly felt like too much to keep quiet. She couldn’t stop it. It tumbled out before she could even stop herself.

“How… how do you like women?” The words came out blunt, unrefined, as if she didn’t even care how they sounded. The alcohol had loosened her tongue, and now the question hung in the air between them, raw and uncomfortable.

Taryn turned to her slowly, her gaze steady. There was no judgment in her eyes, just a quiet kind of understanding, something that made Nesta feel exposed. She could feel the heat rising to her face, the vulnerability settling into her bones. She hadn’t meant to say it out loud, but now that it was out there, she couldn’t take it back.

Taryn didn’t immediately answer. She took a sip of her drink, her expression unreadable. Then, after a long pause, she spoke, her voice soft, almost gentle.

“It’s not something that’s easy to explain,” Taryn said, her tone thoughtful. “It’s not about how you like someone, it’s just about who you’re drawn to. It’s not about logic or reason… it just is. And that’s enough.”

Nesta swallowed hard, feeling the weight of Taryn’s words settle deep inside her. It didn’t quite answer her question. It didn’t give her the clarity she had been hoping for. But there was something about the simplicity of it that made her feel… lighter.

Taryn’s gaze lingered on her for a moment, and then she gave a soft, almost imperceptible shrug. “It’s not about having to explain it to anyone else, either. It’s about what feels right for you.”

Nesta took another drink, trying to process the words.

Nesta stared into her glass, swirling the drink as the silence stretched between them. The music in the background seemed to blur into a distant hum, and her thoughts ran wild, chaotic as always, trying to piece together what she couldn’t understand. There was still something gnawing at her, some question that had lingered in her mind ever since she had asked Taryn how she could like women. The question, so simple but so tangled, wouldn’t leave her.

She glanced at Taryn, her lips pressed into a thin line as the words formed in her mind. It wasn’t a question she’d ever thought she’d ask, but the weight of it was too heavy to ignore.

“Have you… ever wanted men?” The words slipped from her mouth before she could stop them. She didn’t know why she was asking. She didn’t know if she was prepared for the answer, but it was there, and she couldn’t push it back down.

Taryn didn’t flinch, didn’t even seem surprised. She just regarded Nesta with those steady green eyes, as if she had been expecting this question all along. Her fingers rested on the edge of her glass, her thumb tracing a pattern absentmindedly.

“Once,” Taryn said quietly, the word soft but lingering in the air. “A long time ago. But it was never the same, never what it should have been. I thought it was, but I was just trying to convince myself.” She paused, the briefest shadow crossing her face before her expression smoothed again. “It wasn’t real. Not for me.”

Nesta didn’t know how to respond to that. Part of her felt relief, but another part of her, the part that had been taught to look for logic, for reason, felt unsettled. How could it have been so clear to Taryn? How could she know so fully? Nesta hadn’t even started to figure herself out, let alone something like that. She couldn’t understand what it felt like to desire something different from the world she knew, from the expectations she had been raised with.

Nesta’s thoughts drifted back to the human lands, to the world she had come from. The world of strict rules, of things expected of her, of the roles she was supposed to fill, the people she was supposed to be. She thought of her mother, of the old traditions, of the whispers that ran through the halls of their estate. The idea of deviating from what was “right” had never really been a possibility for her—until now.

It wasn’t even about wanting to understand it. There was a part of her, deep down, that wanted to push it all away, to close her mind and shut off the curiosity. She couldn’t even explain why. The idea of being with another woman—the thought felt foreign, as if her mind recoiled at it instinctively, as if the concept itself was something wrong, something forbidden. It was so deeply ingrained in her, this fear of being different from what society expected, from what she had grown up knowing.

In the human lands, they had rules—rules that told you who to love, who to marry, who you were allowed to be. Her mother had made sure she understood that. “A woman’s place is with a man,” her mother had said, a reminder as harsh as the walls that had caged Nesta into her place, into the role she was supposed to fit. Her mother had always tried to push her toward the ideal match, toward the right kind of man, the one who would give her a future she didn’t even want. And the thought of anything else—anything different—had always been wrong.

Nesta’s chest tightened as she thought about it. It wasn’t about Taryn. It wasn’t about her at all. It was the world she had come from, the world that had shaped her. The idea that something other than a man could be right, could be enough, felt like betrayal. The weight of that shame pressed on her, and she found herself questioning: Was something wrong with her for even thinking about it?

The very thought made her feel small, like she was doing something dirty, something shameful. She didn’t want to admit it. She didn’t want to acknowledge that there was a part of her—hidden, deeply buried—that felt that way, that recoiled against the idea of being with a woman. Her heart raced as if the very thought would tear apart everything she had ever known about herself.

She swallowed hard, trying to push the feelings away. She could never have said it aloud—not even to Taryn. It was too much. Too foreign, too uncomfortable. It felt like it would unravel her, like it would expose something broken in her, something twisted that shouldn’t exist.

Nesta’s mind spiraled back to her mother—the woman who had molded her, who had carved out her place in the world for her, a place that always involved a man. Her mother’s teachings, her expectations, had been so clear, so concrete. There had never been room for anything else. Nesta had been raised to believe that her worth, her purpose, lay in pleasing the men around her—whether it was her father, the suitors she’d been pushed toward, or, later, Cassian.

She thought of Cassian then. His strong, comforting presence, the way he seemed to always be there, as though he were the anchor to her storm. She’d felt something for him, or maybe it was just the relief of finally having someone who didn’t look at her with disdain. He’d taken her by force, claimed her as his own in every sense of the word, and for a long time, Nesta had convinced herself that that—him, his touch, his dominance—was the only thing that mattered. It wasn’t love, not really, but it was what she had come to expect. It was what she knew.

She thought about her mother’s words, about the unspoken pressure to marry, to produce heirs, to keep the line intact. Men, men, men. It was all men. Every lesson, every expectation. That’s what she had been raised to understand: that women were supposed to belong to men, to be shaped by them, molded by them, loved by them. But when Nesta thought about it now, all she could feel was the tightness in her chest, the frustration, the resentment. She wasn’t sure if it was the men or herself she hated more, because somehow she felt complicit in it all. She let them define her, let them use her, let them claim her, even when it made her feel empty inside.

And now, she sat here, with Taryn, who was the opposite of all those expectations, who didn’t want a man at all. It made Nesta’s mind spin. How could someone—someone like her—be different? How could a woman choose to love another woman? It felt like an intrusion on everything she had been taught, like a rejection of her very existence. The very idea of it, of choosing a woman, felt so foreign and wrong, even if Nesta knew in her heart that Taryn wasn’t broken, wasn’t flawed.

It was her mother’s voice in her head, the disapproving glare she’d have if she knew. It was the legacy of generations of women who had never been given a choice, whose only purpose was to serve men.

As the silence stretched between them, Nesta couldn’t shake the feeling that Taryn might be able to see right through her, to the ugly thoughts lurking beneath the surface. She felt a cold knot twist in her stomach. What if Taryn knew? What if she could somehow read Nesta’s mind, understand the internalized disgust, the way her brain rejected this idea of women loving women?

Would Taryn hate her for it? For the part of her that recoiled at the thought? For the way she had been taught to see things in such narrow, rigid lines—men, women, roles, rules? The part of her that had tried to bury everything she thought she knew about herself, to keep it locked away so no one could see just how deeply confused she was by this new world she was stumbling into.

The thought gnawed at her. Taryn had never pushed, never tried to make Nesta feel anything other than comfortable, but Nesta couldn’t help but wonder if Taryn would look at her differently if she knew what was really running through her mind. Could she still see her as someone worthy of her company, or would she see the disgust, the shame?

The last thing Nesta wanted was to lose the only person who hadn’t looked at her like she was broken—who hadn’t looked at her like she was someone to be fixed, or worse, to be discarded. Taryn had made no judgment, offered no expectations. But now, Nesta felt like a fraud. Was it even possible to be around someone like Taryn without being honest with herself? Would Taryn hate her for thinking she wasn’t even capable of understanding who she truly was?

The weight of it all settled in her chest, the fear and the shame wrapping around her, tightening with each passing moment. She had come here, night after night, trying to numb herself, to forget. But now, she had no choice but to wonder if, deep down, Taryn could see her for what she truly was: a woman who didn’t even know herself enough to trust her own thoughts, a woman scared of everything she felt, of everything she was.

The night she’d run, it had felt like everything had collapsed on her. She had been suffocating under the weight of her own thoughts, the fear, the shame, the uncertainty. The silence that had stretched between her and Taryn had felt suffocating, and for the first time in a long while, Nesta had wanted to scream, to lash out at something, at someone. But instead, she had done what she always did when things felt too much—she ran.

Her feet had carried her out of the tavern before she even knew what she was doing. She hadn’t said a word to Taryn, not a single syllable, even as she saw the confusion in her gaze. She had just turned and fled, not caring where she went, just needing to escape. Escape from herself, from the thoughts she couldn’t stop, from the feelings she couldn’t control.

After that night, she hadn’t returned. Not once. The thought of walking through the door again, of facing Taryn, of facing herself, had felt impossible. She couldn’t—wouldn’t—let herself go back there. What if Taryn saw the truth? What if she knew how broken, how lost Nesta really was? What if she saw how much she hated herself, how much she despised everything she had come to believe about herself, her desires, her place in the world? It was easier to just avoid it all, to pretend she had never gone to the tavern in the first place.

So she ran. It was the only thing she knew how to do. When things got too hard, when the weight of it all became too heavy, she ran. She ran from the pain, from the thoughts she couldn’t escape, from the guilt that seemed to follow her everywhere. She ran from herself, because it was easier than facing the truth.

Each night, she found herself staying away from the places that once felt like a refuge, from the people who might see through her carefully constructed facade. The tavern had been a place of escape, a place where she could lose herself in drink and company, but now it was just another reminder of how far she had fallen, how much she was drowning in her own mind.

And so, Nesta kept running. From everything. From the woman who had never asked her for anything more than to be herself. From the very thing she was too scared to understand. And, most of all, from the person she might become if she ever stopped long enough to look.

One night, after weeks of running, Nesta had found herself standing at the edge of a decision. She had tried to convince herself it was time to stop hiding, to stop running. The pull of the tavern had been too strong, and there, amidst the warmth and the laughter, she had found herself looking at a woman, someone who seemed to gaze at her with an openness that stirred something deep inside her—a feeling she couldn’t name, something that felt raw and unguarded. It was tempting, too tempting to push away.

She had approached, hesitant but curious, the sharp edge of her emotions still cutting through her resolve. The woman had smiled, and they had shared a drink. The conversation had flowed easily, and Nesta felt a strange, fleeting connection. She had told herself it was just a drink, just a conversation, that it didn’t have to mean anything. But in the back of her mind, she knew it was more. She wanted it to be more.

When the woman leaned in, her breath warm against Nesta’s skin, she didn’t pull away. It had felt so easy, so natural in the moment, and she had thought for a second—just a second—that maybe, just maybe, this was how it could feel.

But when the woman’s hands had touched her skin, when their lips had met, everything had shattered.

It wasn’t the woman’s fault. It wasn’t even her fault. But as the kiss deepened, as the heat of her touch spread through Nesta, a wave of discomfort hit her, too strong to ignore. The hands on her body felt wrong—too familiar, too foreign at the same time. The lips, the warmth, the taste—it all blurred together into something unnatural. Her stomach twisted, her chest tightened, and her mind screamed for her to stop.

And then the voices came. The voices she’d tried so hard to push down, to ignore. You were never meant for this, they whispered, cold and harsh. This is wrong. You’re not supposed to want this. You’re not supposed to be like them. Her mind, once so clouded by drink, now seemed crystal clear, every word sharp, every fear magnified. She heard her mother’s voice, distant but unmistakable—You are a disappointment. A failure. Do you really think they’ll accept you? The voices of men from her past, from her childhood, echoed next—You were made for a man. You’ll never be enough for anything else.

Her chest tightened painfully as she shoved the woman away, her hands trembling as she backed off, unable to breathe through the storm of thoughts and shame that overtook her. She felt trapped in her own skin, like every part of her was screaming at her, telling her she had done something unforgivable. That she had crossed a line she couldn’t uncross.

Nesta didn’t even say anything. She just turned and ran.

She couldn’t explain it, not even to herself. The kiss hadn’t been bad—it wasn’t the woman’s fault. It was her own mind that had betrayed her. She could still feel the heat of the woman’s skin against hers, but all she could hear were the horrible things in her head, the accusations and judgment she had spent so long trying to bury.

The guilt felt suffocating, the rejection of herself complete. She had wanted to give in, to let herself feel something different, something that was hers. But the moment it became real, her mind spiraled into chaos. The whispers of everything she had been taught, of everything she was supposed to be, consumed her.

Nesta had retreated into the dark confines of her apartment, the world outside fading into a blur she no longer wanted to confront. She barely left anymore, choosing to stay in the silence of her own misery. Each day bled into the next, a cycle of self-loathing and numbness. She had stopped even pretending to care about the world beyond her door. It was easier this way. Easier to hide from everyone, from everything, from the part of herself she didn’t understand and feared.

The apartment had become her refuge, but also her prison. The walls closed in on her, suffocating, but it didn’t matter. It felt like the only place she belonged now, the only place she could hide from herself. She spent her days numbing the pain—drinking, sleeping, avoiding. It was a hollow existence, but it was all she had.

Some nights, as the darkness crept in, Nesta found herself wishing she could disappear entirely. If she stayed here long enough, isolated and buried under her own guilt, maybe the world would forget about her. Maybe the whispers in her head would finally fade.

She had no real desire to live anymore. The constant weight of everything—the shame, the confusion, the fear—felt too heavy to bear. If she was lucky, maybe she’d wake up one day and find that it was over. That she had disappeared without a trace, like she had never existed at all.

But she didn’t die. Not yet. So she kept hiding, kept suffocating in the quiet, hoping for something—anything—to end it. The thought of dying seemed almost comforting. It would be easy to slip away, to not have to feel anymore, to not have to face the parts of herself that made her want to run and hide.

The knock at the door came suddenly, breaking the silence that had swallowed her whole. Nesta froze for a moment, sitting on the edge of her couch, eyes fixed on the door. For a heartbeat, she convinced herself it was Cassian. Maybe he was finally here to tell her how horrible she looked—how pathetic she had become. He would taunt her with some sharp, sarcastic comment, maybe even drop some well-meaning remark about how Feyre had been concerned, about how her family was worried for her. He might mock her for staying holed up in her apartment, running away from everything, expecting a comeback from her, some biting response to make him feel justified in his judgment.

It would be just like him.

Her heart pounded in her chest, not from fear but from the dread of facing him—of hearing him look down on her again. The thought of seeing his face made her stomach churn. What did it matter if he came? He wouldn’t understand. He never did.

But then the knock came again, louder this time, pulling her from her spiral. She gritted her teeth and stood, her legs shaky as she walked toward the door. Her breath hitched in her throat, and for a moment, she considered ignoring it. Let whoever it was think she wasn’t home. Let them go away.

But the knock persisted, and against her better judgment, she turned the handle.

When the door creaked open, it wasn’t Cassian standing there.

It was Taryn.

Nesta tensed, every muscle in her body tightening as she stood in the doorway, staring at Taryn. Her mind screamed at her to close the door, to retreat back into the safety of her isolation. She didn’t need this. She didn’t need anyone seeing the mess she had become, seeing how far she had fallen. But for some reason, her feet didn’t move, and she found herself staring into Taryn’s calm, unwavering gaze.

“What do you want?” Nesta asked, her voice harsher than she intended. Her stomach twisted with unease, but Taryn didn’t flinch.

Taryn tilted her head slightly, a faint, knowing smile pulling at the corners of her lips. “Company,” she said simply. “I thought I’d come by, see how you’re doing.” She paused for a moment, as though weighing her words carefully. “If you don’t mind.”

Nesta’s heart pounded in her chest. She felt the walls of her apartment pressing in, felt the weight of every empty bottle, every wasted night, all of it hanging heavy in the air. She wanted to slam the door in Taryn’s face, tell her to leave, but she couldn’t. Something held her there.

Taryn didn’t look disgusted or appalled by the mess—she didn’t even flinch when her eyes scanned the room. Her expression remained the same: calm, open, unbothered. Nesta almost wished she would say something—anything—that would make this easier. But instead, she just waited, quiet and patient.

Nesta swallowed, her voice coming out almost a whisper. “How did you know where I lived?”

Taryn didn’t seem surprised by the question. She simply shrugged, her eyes never leaving Nesta’s. “You’re not as hard to find as you think,” she said, her tone light, teasing. “I pay attention.”

The words hung in the air, and Nesta felt a strange, uncomfortable shiver run down her spine. She couldn’t quite pinpoint what it was that made her so hesitant, so conflicted. Was it the fact that Taryn had found her so easily? Or was it the way she made Nesta feel—like someone cared, like someone was actually willing to step into her mess without turning away in disgust?

Nesta didn’t answer right away, her thoughts a tangle of confusion and something she couldn’t quite name. She should send Taryn away. She should shut the door, lock it, and forget this ever happened.

But then she felt herself step aside, the door opening just enough for Taryn to slip past her. A part of Nesta wanted to stop her, but she didn’t. She couldn’t.

“Fine,” Nesta muttered under her breath, almost to herself. “You can come in.”

Taryn gave a quiet nod, stepping into the dingy apartment with a grace that almost made it feel less suffocating. She didn’t comment on the state of the place, didn’t judge Nesta as she thought she would. Instead, she simply walked in, her presence calm, her eyes taking in the room without speaking. It was as though she had seen it all before.

Nesta closed the door behind them, the weight of the decision settling heavily in her chest, but she didn’t regret it. Not yet.

Taryn’s voice was soft but certain as she glanced around the cramped apartment, her eyes landing on Nesta. “Are you hungry?”

Nesta almost wanted to laugh at the question. Hunger felt like an impossible thing to focus on—so distant, so unimportant compared to everything else swirling in her head. She shook her head, her voice dismissive as she replied, “No.”

But as soon as the word left her mouth, her stomach growled—loud, unrelenting, betraying her in a way that made her wish she could disappear into the floor. She flushed, embarrassed, but tried to hide it by crossing her arms tightly over her chest, looking away.

Taryn didn’t miss it. Her gaze softened, a small, knowing smile curling at the corners of her lips. “Alright then,” she said, as though it were no surprise. “I’ll make something. You look like you could use it.”

Nesta wanted to protest, wanted to tell her she didn’t need anything, but Taryn had already turned toward the kitchen before she could voice another word. Nesta stood frozen for a moment, watching her. She didn’t know why Taryn had decided to stay, why she seemed so determined to take care of her when Nesta had been doing nothing but pushing everyone away. The kitchen was barely big enough to be called a kitchen, just a small counter and a stove with cabinets that had seen better days. Nesta knew there wasn’t much in the cupboards. A few cans of vegetables, some dried pasta, maybe a bottle of sauce if she was lucky. She hadn’t made much of an effort to restock lately.

She rubbed her face, feeling the weight of exhaustion settling on her shoulders. Why does she care?

Taryn, though, didn’t seem bothered by the small, threadbare apartment. She walked over to the counter with a calm, purposeful air, and as she started pulling out ingredients, her movements were fluid, practiced—like someone who had done this countless times before. It made Nesta feel awkward in contrast, as if her own existence in this space wasn’t enough. She had no idea why Taryn would want to be here, but a part of her was too tired to question it.

Nesta moved toward the kitchen, leaning against the doorframe as she watched Taryn work. Her mouth felt dry, her stomach protesting as the scent of something delicious began to fill the air. It wasn’t much, just a simple meal, but the warmth of it felt like something she hadn’t experienced in far too long.

Taryn turned to Nesta, her hands steady and sure as she set a plate in front of her. The dish was simple—scrambled eggs with soft, buttery potatoes and a side of fresh herbs sprinkled over the top. There was something rustic about it, nothing extravagant, but the way the steam rose from the plate and the rich smell of the food made Nesta’s stomach growl again.

She looked at the plate, unsure how to react. It wasn’t much, but it was the kind of thing that someone would make for you because they cared, not because they were obligated. The warm yellow of the eggs, the golden crisp of the potatoes, and the fresh green herbs dotted on top—it all seemed so foreign to her now. She hadn’t felt like she deserved something like this in ages.

Taryn stood back, watching Nesta’s expression carefully, her eyes calm but knowing. “Eat,” she said quietly, her voice soft but firm. “You need it.”

Nesta hesitated for a moment, still unsure of what to make of it. She didn’t want to accept kindness. She didn’t want to let anyone see her weakness. But as she sat there, the hunger that had been gnawing at her for days surged forward, her body demanding attention. She slowly picked up the fork, her fingers trembling slightly as she brought a bite to her mouth.

The food was simple, yes, but the warmth of it was like a balm to the raw, hollow ache inside her. It was comforting, in a way she hadn’t realized she needed, and despite herself, she found herself taking another bite.

Taryn, who had sat across from her with her own plate in hand, simply watched her with a quiet understanding. There was no judgment in her gaze, only something that felt like patience, like she knew this was just a small step.

But it felt bigger to Nesta—like a crack in the wall she’d built around herself.

As Nesta set the fork down, her stomach full but still tight with an uncomfortable mix of hunger and unease, she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. The silence between them stretched for a moment, and just as she thought she might breathe easier, Taryn’s voice broke through it, soft but unyielding.

“I know what happened,” she said, her gaze unwavering, eyes steady on Nesta.

The words hit her like a blow to the chest, and immediately, Nesta’s stomach twisted. Her breath caught in her throat, the sudden rush of nausea threatening to push everything she’d just eaten right back up. She couldn’t swallow. She couldn’t breathe. Her pulse raced, her skin feeling too tight, too warm.

The last thing she wanted was to talk about it. She didn’t want to relive it, didn’t want anyone to know the ugly things she’d buried in her past, things she hadn’t even let herself acknowledge until now. She should have seen it coming—Taryn was perceptive, too observant for her own good. But hearing those words from her lips was like standing on the edge of a cliff, with the wind howling in her ears, ready to push her over.

Her hands shook as she gripped the edge of the table, trying to steady herself. “I—I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Nesta forced out, her voice strained, cracking under the weight of the lie.

But Taryn didn’t push her. Instead, she sat back in her chair, quiet, waiting for Nesta to meet her gaze, her expression calm, almost unreadable. The silence stretched, and Nesta felt her chest tighten, her heart pounding painfully. She couldn’t even look at her—couldn’t stand the thought of being seen so completely, so raw.

She wanted to run. She wanted to hide. She wanted to disappear. Instead, all she could do was breathe, shallow and quick, as the room seemed to close in around her.

“I’m not going to force you to talk,” Taryn said softly, her voice gentle but firm, like she knew Nesta needed that space.

Taryn’s voice was quiet, almost a whisper, but it felt like a lifeline in the thick, suffocating silence. “It’s okay,” she said, her tone steady and warm. “You don’t have to be okay right now.”

And then something cracked inside Nesta.

The words weren’t anything special—they didn’t offer a solution or make any promises. But the way Taryn said them, with such quiet understanding and no expectation, it was enough. It was enough to tear away the facade Nesta had been holding together for so long, enough to let the tears fall. She wasn’t ready for it, didn’t even know why it was happening, but suddenly there was no stopping it.

Her breath hitched, the dam inside her breaking, and before she could even think, the tears spilled over. She didn’t make a sound at first, just blinked rapidly, trying to suppress the feeling of weakness, of being so exposed. But it didn’t help. The tears kept coming, faster now, like a storm she couldn’t control.

And still, Taryn didn’t say anything more. She didn’t reach for Nesta or try to comfort her in some grand, overbearing way. She just sat there, still and patient, letting Nesta cry, letting her feel what she’d been holding inside for far too long. There was no judgment in her eyes, no pity. Just a quiet acceptance, like she understood, like she knew that sometimes, it wasn’t about fixing things—it was just about being there.

Nesta wiped at her eyes roughly, but the tears didn’t stop. She felt embarrassed, humiliated even, but something in her—some part that had been broken for so long—was unraveling. She hadn’t expected it, hadn’t known she needed it, but the simple act of letting someone in, letting someone see the cracks, felt like a release. It felt like freedom.

Taryn didn’t rush her, didn’t try to say anything else. She just stayed silent, her gaze soft but unwavering, like she was giving Nesta the time she needed, even if Nesta didn’t know how much time that would be.

She just let her cry.

And Nesta didn’t stop.

Tag list: @litnerdwrites

[panzershrike-pretz]

PRETZ! can i ask 💤, 🐉, and 🎶 for fiona?

HEY BLU!!! ABOUT FIONA!!! I love her so much!!

----------------------------------------------

💤 SLEEPING SIGN — is your oc a light sleeper or a heavy sleeper? how are their sleeping habits?

Fiona's a light sleeper, more so because of her autism and anxiety. She's constantly somewhat overwhelmed, so falling asleep itself is already a battle for her - so, staying asleep, is even harder.

With the tecnologies of the modern days, she learned to use happy hoodies (for grooming dogs), noise concealing earplugs and sleep masks, but they aren't really a hundred percent effective. Any sudden movement is still enough for her to wake up.

She's normally the first to go to bed and first to rise, of all the crew :3

🐉 DRAGON — what is your oc's favorite mythical creature?

Her favorite mythical creature is the Anhangá! Although she is German, not Brazilian, she learned about them from Madam Iraci Troupial, one of the Brazilian Ymbrynes.

Anhangás are white deer with blood-red eyes and a soft glow around them. They live alone and their mission is to protect the Amazon and its inhabitants, killing whoever hurts the forest with their giant antlers!

Anhangás where a lot more common before Brazilian colonization, but as the Portuguese explored the resources and the population started to shrink the Amazon, their numbers went down due to loss of habitat and poaching (their antlers and blood can be used in potions; eating their eyes is said to strengthen people and cure most mosquito-born diseases). Now, they are a protected species under the International Magical-Beast Protection Act (IMBPA) and are slowly but surely comming back!

(And as a disclosure, I made my own twists to the actual Anhangá folklore! They are common in some indigenous communities and their stories differ here and there; this version is made to fit my universe and is based in more than one versions of the legend)

🎶 MUSICAL NOTES — what type of music does your oc like? do they listen to music very often?

Fiona's favorite is classic music, but she's also a big fan of operas and anything-ballet! Those are the ones she's been exposed the longest to, but as she came into the modern world, she found passion for musicals!

They are like therapy for her and she actually loves to be able to sing and act - although she's mostly nonverbal, when she's on the stage, she feels way more confortable.

Natasha turned her into a theater kid 💀✨️

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

MDZS Disco Elysium AU part 2 - Psyche Skills

Part 1 - Part 3

[beautifulterriblequeen]

Horrible new theory about Runaan's shirt today.

-no, not the new one, the one he lost-

He's still got his green assassin shirt here on the balcony, and vest too:

But by the time Gren is thrown into the dungeon a couple days later, it's missing.

Runaan's also sporting bags under his eyes because he'd been kept awake all night, enjoying Viren's frustrations about losing Harrow and also getting denied the crown of Katolis.

So. About that missing shirt.

I can't think of too many things worse for a guy who wears four shirts at once than to have them all taken off while he's badly hurt and manacled to the wall, and then be tickled half to death all night long, on his birthday.