#noise x miranda
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apollolewis · 11 months ago
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I don’t Ship Yu and Allen together, but in recent chapters I see why people do. I don’t really ship Allen with anyone. The two main ships I have for d.gray-man is Noise Marie x Miranda Lotto and Allen x Therapy
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royalreef · 2 years ago
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       —and a VERY happy second anniversary to her and Aaravi!!!
                                   It might only be midnight, but she is CELEBRATING already!!!!
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letorip · 2 months ago
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kiss with a fist [iii]
"your slaps don't stick, your kicks don't hit, so we remain the same"
===+++===
pairing: tara carpenter x reader
summary: you can't help but feel like maybe you and tara are more than frenemies, and it culminates in a night where you finally share some truths with each other.
warnings: a somewhat traumatic dream sequence lmao, mentions of sex, kissing (almost), curse words, blood
word count: 5.8k
A/N: hope y'all like this one because i definitely liked writing it. definitely a whole lot more kissing than fisting.... wait a minute....
it's 5 am, my ass is grass. anyways, part 4 relatively soon because woo wee theres still so much to explore in this story i legitimately cant believe my idiot self said it'd be done in 2 parts originally
===+++===
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===+++===
"(Y/n)," a voice calls to you, sing-song and sweet as your eyes fade to darkness. It's a gentle woman's whisper, but it manages to hit you like a truck, pulling you down from wherever you came from, and plopping you wherever you've arrived. Or, rather, wherever you've always been. "(Y/n), look, darlin'."
A gust of wind gently strokes over the plane of your cheek, and when you open your eyes, all you can see is rye. On one end, it reaches out towards a sharp cliff, overlooking a lake, with nothing but rocks and the water below. On the other, it runs far up the plains of land in front of you, stopping in front of the white house you know all too well, with its rickety porch and broken tire swing.
You take a few steps forward, as if ready to run right inside, and then before you know it, you're running. Like the world is about to end, like the house is burning down, like you'll never see the place ever again. Foot after foot, you dash towards it, hearing Alisha's piano flit through the front window for the first time in years, and the smell of a pie right along with it. "(Y/n)!" the voice calls again. "Dinner time, kid!"—
But your foot catches on a root, just like it did in your memory, and in an instant, you've fallen down into the rye, with a painful thud, right on your face. You let out a grunt, feeling the dirt on your new, white shirt. The one your mother never let you wear when you were playing outside.
And when you right yourself again, sitting up out of the field, the house isn't any closer than it was before. It sits, perfectly far away, only all that stuff is gone now, and the house looks about as dark as it did the day of Mitchie's funeral.
"(Y/n)!" an excited voice calls from behind you. "Wanna play tag?"
"(Y/n)'s too old for that, Mitchie," another voice chides, and you whip around like Calvin would actually be there to chide him like that. Like he used to. But he isn't. All you can see is the rye. It stands in thick stalks, reaching up to your knees in lush groupings, tall and abundant, strong and growing.
Another voice. "Read me a story?" It's soft and it's a little girl's and it's far away, and you get to your feet and spin in a circle, waiting for her to appear. It seemed to reverberate through your ears, washing through the pathways of your brain before seeping into your heart. It fills it up, and before you know it, you can feel yourself hastily searching for her.
"'Randa?" you called into the open field. "Miranda? You there?" but she continues on like she didn't hear you.
"Would you read me a story? Please?"
"I will Miranda, but where are you?" you called back, raising a hand to shield your eyes from the barrel of the hot sun.
"I'm gone, (Y/n). You're supposed to be gone too," she says back, with a sweet giggle. "Why aren't you gone with us?"
"I—" you stammer, whipping your head around the field in search of your siblings. "I don't—"
"Do you really think that's fair, (Y/n)?" Calvin asks.
"Why aren't you here, (Y/n)?" Miranda asks again, this time her voice wavering like she was about to cry. "Why aren't you in the rye with us?" Your hands came up to your head, trying to squeeze your eyes shut and block out the noises, but they seemed to reverberate into your skull.
"Mitchie was your fault, you know," Peter chides. "We would've never let that—"
"—Why did you get to stay, (Y/n)?" Came Tomas' voice. "We're supposed to be cursed, and you're supposed to be cursed too." He was always the quiet one, but now his voice had a sharp edge to it. One of jealousy. One of anger.
"Why didn't you catch me?" Mitchie asked. "If you just would've caught me..."
"Come play piano with me, I'll teach you," said Alisha, in her light, airy laugh.
"Why did it get to be you?" snarled Calvin. "And why are you getting closer to Tara? You want to curse her, too?"
"Stop—" you stammered, squeezing your eyes shut tighter.
"Wanna play hopscotch?" said Mitchie.
"Do you miss us, (Y/n)?" Alisha said, in between tears.
"Yes, of course— I—" you tried, but now the voices were filling up your head, threatening to spill over and knocking you to the ground. You curled up into a ball as your brain filled up. Words piling up on top of words, piling up on top of words, about to split you open. "STOP!" you yelled.
And everything went silent. When you opened your eyes, you found yourself still in the field, but your siblings' voices had gone entirely. Now it was just you, in the field, alone with the rustling of the wind and the rye, as it grazed gently against your legs. You hadn't remembered standing up, but you were now.
In a flash, you could see a shape, running through the rye in a line that was very visible from where you were. You recognised the dark hair, and the yellow jacket he always wore. With the realisation came the looming dread, and you realised with very little time left what this exactly was a memory of.
You took off running, faster than you had to the house, faster than you had ever run, and faster than you had run then, chasing after him as he took off towards the cliff-end of your rye field. "Mitchie!" you yelled, trying to be louder than the buzzing cicadas, but it seemed the moment you yelled, the cicadas got even louder. He was too short to see over the stalks, but you could see him go, running in odd shapes as he got nearer and nearer to the cliffs edge.
"Catch me if you can, (Y/n)!" he called back with a gleeful laugh.
"(Y/n), grab your brother," called your mother. She didn't seem too worried, and she hadn't been, then. No one had been, until it was too late.
"Mitchie! Stop!" you cried out, feeling tears already beginning to fall down your cheeks. "Mitchie!" you tried again.
"Come on, you've gotta be faster than that if you're gonna be it!” Mitchie called back. "Catch me! Get me! C'mon! I'm gonna make it hard for you to win, Duck."
"MITCHIE! PLEASE!" you screamed, but all he did was giggle. “STOP! DON’T GO!” But the moment you reached the end of the rye, he was gone over the edge, just he had been when you were 13, and there was an arm shaking you awake.
===+++===
"Oh my god, you're about the least peaceful sleeper I've literally ever seen," Tara laughed, grinning at you from over her textbook. She had it pulled into her lap from her side of the table and titled against the table edge, and spread out in front of you were her papers galore, with notes scribbled all over them in preparation for her upcoming exam.
Mindy sat next to her, playing a stupid game on her phone, while Ethan was also studying in his own textbook. He had stopped trying to avoid you as much, as had Chad. You and Tara "dating" seemed to offend them less and less the longer it went on.
"Uh," you mumbled, still feeling a little bit disoriented from the dream. It was like a dose of adrenaline had been shot directly into your heart, and you struggled to adjust to the calm, peaceful library that actually was around you. "Shut up," you grumbled, but not like you were actually upset by her teasing.
Tara watched you with her eyebrows raised. "You look tired."
You sat up in your chair, running a hand through your hair. There was a small layer of sweat on your forehead. "Aren't you never supposed to say that to someone? Pretty sure that's how you get someone at the bar to throw their drink in your face."
"It is," Ethan nodded. "I made that mistake once. I was trying to be sweet."
"Good thing I'm not seducing you, then," Tara shrugged. "You've seen me puke everywhere. Pretty sure that ruined my chances right-out, and yet you love me anyways."
You grinned, leaning back to stretch out your arms. It was meant to be a gentle teasing from Tara, but you had only gotten better and better at deflecting the longer you were around her. "You'd be surprised, actually. That was super pretty. That was the prettiest you've ever been." Mindy snorted next to Tara.
Tara glared at you, unappreciatively. "And you're pretty when you do not speak."
"I'm pretty all the time, Tara," you mockingly shook your head. "And you think I'm joking. Find yourself a girl who looks nice covered in sweat, with her hair going everywhere, and puking in the toilet. That's my girlfriend."
"You're such a dick," Tara scoffed, but you could tell part of her was stifling a laugh. It was funny to her too, and you both had laughed at it together for days, afterwards.
If anything, it had gotten easier and easier, to act like the both of you were actually dating. You weren't too sure why, maybe Tara had become less annoying, or you had become less annoyed by her, but you had definitely at least become a better actor. That's what it was, after all. "Oh, also," she continued.
"Yeah?"
"Someone tried to call your phone, while you were sleeping. I think it was your dad."
You frowned. "You didn't pick up, right?"
"No," Tara said, shaking her head. Then she paused. She dropped her voice to speak just to you, guarding the conversation from Mindy and Ethan. "Do you and him not get along?"
You shrugged. "Eh. He was probably just checking in. We have a fine relationship." It wasn't true but it was an easy lie, that rolled off the tongue like nothing. He had already called twice, that day, and you knew why.
"Seriously, though," she said with a frown, looking up from her book. "You look fucking horrifying—"
"—Thanks," you said, flatly.
"—I mean, even more than normal, it's crazy—"
"—Thanks," you repeated.
"—Have you not been sleeping, or something?"
You shrugged. "I mean, I'm an architecture major, and it's midterms... so not really."
"Hm."
"What?" you asked, propping your head up on your arm. "What's the 'hm' for?"
She shrugged, trying to turn back to her textbook. "Hm, nothing."
You furrowed your eyebrows down at her. "Well, obviously the 'hm' was something, Tara." Mindy shot you a look again.
"Or it was just a hm."
“Would you two shush,” she said to you, rolling her eyes. “You bicker like an old married couple.” But you both ignored her.
"It's never just a 'hm.'"
"I say hm all the time. It's literally just a hm."
"No, it means you've got something to say but don't want to say it."
She frowned at the accusation but was obviously even more displeased that you were correct. "I was gonna suggest we go to the OBK party tonight, but maybe you should just go home and sleep. I was trying to be nice.”
You shrugged. "I won't be doing either, actually." Tonight was not the night for parties. You were somewhat grateful, that you had a legitimate excuse to busy your time, or else you would've spent even longer thinking about the dream. "I have to do homework. My final is due tomorrow."
Tara furrowed her eyebrows at you. "Wait, but I thought classes ended today."
You shook your head. "Nope. I've still got some stuff do."
"Oh," Tara frowned.
"Not all of us can have easy majors," you teased, trying to lighten the mood away from what was clearly concern.
"Hey! You chose the stupid thing," Tara shot back. "Not my fault I chose something fun." She stood up, gathering her things into a neat stack. The time was nearing for her midterm exam, and you stood up with her, grabbing her textbook to be helpful.
"Thanks," she said, then she wandered over and held out her hand. You grabbed it in yours, lacing your fingers together, just like you had practiced together.
The library was a tall building on the far side of campus from where you lived. It was a trek and a half to get there, which is partially why you had been a little annoyed, when Tara said she needed to go there. It ended up being the perfect place to fall asleep in, with the quiet signs and only a few murmurs now and again, and though it had been a less than peaceful dream, it was more than you had been getting for the past few days.
"I don't see why you can't just go without me," you shrugged, adjusting her book in your hands. "Just tell Sam I'll meet you there. Besides, Chad and Mindy are going to the same party, right?"
"Yeah, but I what if they realise you're not actually there and mention it to Sam, or something? And, I'd have to go there alone, since Chad and Mindy are going early."
"They are?"
"Yeah. Helping with set up. Mindy literally just mentioned that. Shows how much you listen to her.” She shook her head in a mocking disappointment in you.
“I was asleep, jerk.”
“I know,” she said, grinning.
You looked down to her, where she walked next to you, gently swinging your joint hands back and forth. "It's not a far walk to OBK. You could probably make it there in five minutes. It's well-lit, and—"
Tara frowned, shaking her head adamantly. "Not alone. Not without you, no way. Sam would want to see you at the door to pick me up. She'd probably hate the idea of it."
"Fair enough," you shrugged. "Find a movie at home tonight, then. Relax, or something. I'd kill to be done with this stupid project."
"What are you even making?" Tara groaned, breaking your hands to shove hers into her pockets. Actually, it was your jacket, and therefore technically your pockets too, but she had taken a liking to it, after your date. You had been less than pleased, when she asked to borrow it, considering how much the jacket meant to you, but she insisted it was assisting her to keep up the act. You figured you could part with it, at least for a little while.
"Architecture," you said with a thick layer of sarcasm. Tara rolled her eyes at you. She nudged you, and you couldn't help but laugh as her elbow pointed into your side.
"Oh, you think you're funny, huh?"
"I'm hilarious."
"You wish..." she scoffed, shaking her head.
It was a beautiful day in autumn, and the weather was soon to leave the sigh of brown leaves and rainy days and move into whispery winds and icy pavement. You didn't mind winter, but you didn't like the chills, even though it was undoubtedly what gave summer's warmth a certain sweetness. Still, nothing burned like the cold.
You walked her all the way to the door of the exam hall, stopping out front to hand her the textbook you had been carrying. You went to speak, but the moment you tried to open your mouth, your phone started ringing. You grabbed it from your pocket, sighing and declining the call, while Tara stared at you.
"Is that your dad, again?"
"No," you said. "Telemarketer."
"Right..." she said, frowning. "You're a terrible liar."
"Am I?" you challenged. You were, it was true.
"Why don't you want to talk to him?"
“I just don’t.”
“Yeah, I know. I’m asking why, (Y/n).”
"Why don't you leave it alone?" you shot, in frustration. You could see Tara's eyes narrow at your tone, and you felt a bit bad. There was the occasional reflex still, to bite each other's heads off. You weren't sure what it was about her, but something about Tara Carpenter always seemed to rile you up inside, and do the same for her with you.
"Sorry," you said, looking down at your shoes. "I just don't want to talk about it."
"That doesn't mean you have to be an asshole," Tara glared.
"Right... I'm... sorry."
Tara sighed. "I guess I'll see you next week?" She asked.
You nodded. "There'll be plenty of time after this, I just need to get this thing done."
"Okay," she nodded, failing to hide her excitement. Tara seemed to really love parties, the more and more she went to, and you were somewhat glad you could help her find something she enjoyed. It was nice to see, not that you'd ever say that to her. Doing that would absolutely result in her teasing you again, or something even more annoying.
"Good luck on your test," you said.
"Good luck on your project, babe," she said, drawing the name out.
“Now who’s hilarious,” you said with an eye roll. Tara winked at you, pressing a kiss to your cheek.
“Me.”
===+++===
It seemed you were having no good luck on it whatsoever, actually. Laid out in front of you was all of your materials, in a messy pile of cut-out pieces and foam boards that were there, sure, but not likely to just jump together and put itself together on its own.
The clock had already ticked away to 12:33 in the morning, and your design was barely finalised to where you could get to work and finish quickly. All of the other students had left at a much more reasonable hour, and it left you standing at your table alone, quietly working to classical music in the empty modelling lab.
At this rate, you could be here for another two or three hours, and the project was due at eight. You were sluggish, slowly working through the plans you had set out days ago and working through the kinks.
Every few minutes, when you stopped for even a second, the dream seemed to rush back to the forefront of your brain. Your mother had been the one to call, that evening while you were eating a poor excuse of a dinner, and you had declined that call just like you had declined all the rest.
You were hunched over your work, probably unhealthily so, with your face buried in your iPad, hastily throwing out sketches of the various shapes. You were settling on a design that would have to do, heading for the woodcutter, when you heard a noise.
It resembled a door shutting, and you froze right where you were. "Greg?" you called out. There was no one else in the building except for you and Greg, at his usual security post, and you waited with bated breath for him to return your call.
But there was no response, and all you could hear was the sounds of classical music gently floating in the background. Usually, it set you at ease while you worked through whatever you were doing in the lab, but now all it did was raise your heart rate to match the increasing tempo. It was completely dark, except for the overhead light above you, which illuminated the table you were working at and a few of the stainless steel cabinets that held tools and supplies.
Then, off to the side, you heard a rolling. An odd, wooden rolling, slowly drifting towards you. On the ground was a pencil, gently pushed towards you, playfully rolling as if perfectly in front of your toes. You hopped to your feet. "Hello?" you called, squinting in the dim light, in case anyone else was there. "Is anyone there?" you called out again. "Greg?"
Now you could really feel the thumping of your heart. The modelling lab had always been creepy late at night, but this was a new level of unease. It was as if someone was watching you, playing with their food, and you swallowed down the lump in your throat. "Is someone there?" you said to the rest of the room.
"Hey!" said a voice, and you jumped what felt like five feet into the air.
"Fuck!" you shouted, spinning around and seeing Tara behind you. She jumped at your reaction, raising her hands up. In one of them was a tray with two coffees on it. “You scared me!”
"Woah, woah, are you okay?" she asked, face etched with concern. She walked towards you slowly, and you put your hands on the edge of the table, trying to calm yourself.
"Don't just sneak up on me like that, dude," you glared at her.
"I literally didn't, I fucking announced myself, loud as can be," Tara said, rolling her eyes at you. Then, it melded into concern. "How long have you been here?" she asked, looking around the place and its emptiness.
"Since I left you at your test," you shrugged. "How'd it go by the way?" Tara's eyebrows furrowed, ignoring your question instead for one of her own.
"Did you at least eat dinner, or something?"
"Yeah," you nodded.
"Good."
“Yeah…,” you trailed off, turning back to your work. “How did you know where I was?"
“I asked Chad. He’s still a little snippy with me about, well, thinking we're together. Tried to tell me that if anyone would know, it would be me, and I said, yeah, that’s true, but it’s only been three months, now.”
“Well,” you said, gesturing around to the lab. “This is the modelling lab.” You were a bit of a nerd about the whole place, showing it off like it was your cool superhero lair.
“I know,” Tara mocked. “I saw it on the giant sign above the front door.”
“Ha ha. Does Sam know that you’re here?” You asked, grabbing your pen and resuming your work while you continued to talk to Tara. She plopped herself down on the edge of the table, letting her feet swing.
She looked a bit sheepish at the question. “Uh… no.”
“You know she’ll kill me like she did that one time, if you’re not home when she wakes up,” you frowned, wandering over to the supplies and grabbing out a box cutter to help trim the pieces you needed.
Tara nodded. “I know. But I snuck out, so I’ll sneak back in.”
You turned back around to reply, maybe say something stupid, but you had to stop yourself from laughing, when you saw her legs hanging off the counter and not reaching the ground.
“What?” Tara asked, furrowing her eyebrows. “What’s so funny?”
“Nothing,” you said, shaking your head and returning to the table. “…Dwarf.”
“Hey!” she said, smacking you on the arm. “I brought you coffee, don’t make me take it back.”
“That’s true,” you frowned, weighing your options. “Guess I can’t make fun of you; you brought me caffeine.”
“That’s more like it."
You worked in silence for a few minutes, feeling Tara watch your every movement. It was harder to work, under her scrutiny, but you were grateful that she was there. It wasn’t lonely in there, any more. A few months ago, you would’ve hated her guts for sitting around while you attempted to work. But not with Tara anymore. Not on that day.
“This might be an all-nighter,” you warned, sending her a small smile as you sliced a piece of foam in half and went to work to attach it to your board.
“Fine with me,” Tara shrugged. She just continued to watch you, in a calm silence. “Actually, I have beef with you,” she hummed.
You laughed, looking up while you secured the base with glue. “Why’s that, Tara?”
“You got that song, stuck in my head.”
“Which one?” You asked.
“The one you sang for me. I found it online.”
“Which one?” you teased, smiling again. Your face was tired and the smile certainly didn’t help, but you couldn’t help the newfound peace washing over you again. You had completely forgotten the weird happening from earlier.
“You know, don’t play dumb.”
“No,” you shook your head. “I really don’t know.”
“You literally do,” Tara scoffed.
“Sing a little bit. Refresh my memory.”
“Nuh uh,” she said, crossing her arms. “This is a trap.”
“It isn’t,” you insisted, sticking your pinky out to her. “Swear.”
She wrapped it in her own, rolling her eyes. She definitely knew it was, but she obliged anyway. “If you need a friend, don’t look to a strangerrr. You know in the end,” her voice broke on the low note like yours did, and you laughed while heat rose to her cheeks. “I’ll always be thereeee.”
“And when you’re in doubt,” you sang back to her, in between laughs. “And when you’re in dangerrr.” You both were tone deaf and the rendition was awful, but the mood in the lab was getting lighter and lighter the longer you were together.
“Take a look all around,” Tara sang, coming back in. “And I’ll be there.”
It was impossible not to laugh at how bad it was on both sides, and you grinned at her toothily, before turning back to your work. “Thank you for reminding me.”
“You’re welcome, idiot,” she teased, nudging you in the side again.
===+++===
You went back to working on your model, finishing the first floor in about an hour. You and Tara occasionally talked now and again, but mostly she just watched you while you worked. “Why are you doing this all tonight?” she asked.
“Uh…” you stuttered. “I didn’t have time the past couple weeks…cause of… well, you.”
She shot up to her feet, mouth dropping open. “Why the hell didn’t you say no to me?! I didn’t know you had all this to do.”
You shrugged. “I never mentioned it. Plus, you were having fun. I’m glad someone was enjoying themselves.”
“Oh…” she said, and it sounded small.
“What?” you asked, raising an eyebrow at her.
“…Nothing."
“It’s fine, Tar. Seriously.” She blinked at you.
“Tar?” she asked, looking amused.
You looked up from your work, feeling the change in the atmosphere. “What?”
“I don’t know, you’ve just never used the nickname for me, before.”
“Yeah, I guess not. Is it weird?”
“Well… no. I kind of like it.”
“Okay.”
“Okay,” she agreed, nodding a little. “My mom was the one who gave me the nickname Tar. Haven’t spoken to her in a little while, though.”
“Do you still miss her?” you asked, glueing your second story onto the base successfully.
“Sometimes…” she trailed off, staring out at the pitch black night through the window that hung over your workspace. "She calls me once in a while."
"Do you answer?" you asked.
"No," she admitted. "It's usually about Woodsboro. I gave up on her a few months ago, but she still calls sometimes about the town."
"You never talk about it..." you comment, trailing off with a hand on the back of your neck. "You don't have to, if you don't want to." You leaned back against the table with a curiosity, watching her face move as she struggled to answer.
"Well... it's cause I don't want to that I don't talk about it. You know how people say that shit about manifesting happiness?" you nodded, knowing what she was talking about. "Well, I keep saying I'm fine, and I'm moving on, but it just keeps following me everywhere. It's like this chronic cough I can't shake. This constant thing. No matter how much I run, it's always there. People don't see me as anything but one of the survivors."
You swallowed, feeling her words hit you. "I know what you mean." Tara's eyes snapped down to yours, but when you didn't volunteer more information, she sighed.
You frowned, turning yourself back to your work and hunching over, so she wouldn’t see the heat rising to your cheeks. “I, uh… I listened to that song you said you liked, too.”
“You did?” she asked, lighting up at the mention of it.
“Yeah… added it to my playlist… so…”
“So…” Tara laughed, amused by your awkwardness. It was somehow less awkward when you hated each other. The fact you could tolerate each other now was unusual but not unpleasant, and you still found yourself grappling with how pretty Tara’s eyes looked in lamplight. "If I get a nickname, you absolutely have to have one too."
You scoffed. "That's not at all what that means."
"You had to have had one at some point."
"No, I haven't had one," you said.
"Liar!" Tara said with a giggle, pointing at you with her finger. "You're so bad at lying it's remarkable. Now spill. What is it?"
"I'm not lying!" you insisted, but now you were laughing and it was even less convincing.
"C'mon, promise I won't say it in public— unless it's really bad."
You stared at her for a moment, when she clasped her hands together in a begging plea.
"Please?"
"No," you shook your head.
"Please?"
"Nope."
"Pleaseeee?"
"Fine," you sighed. "My family, they used to call me Duck."
"Duck?" She asked, leaning back to look at you as if the nickname would re-contextualise your entire appearance. "Where'd that come from?"
"It's dumb. I used to wear this yellow raincoat when it was storming outside and these orange booties, so my little brother Mitchie saw me, when he was like five or six, and said I was a Duck. And so I was Duck."
She smiled at you, genuinely pleased with the explanation. "That's adorable. Where is Mitchie, tonight?"
You opened your mouth but shut it. Then, you opened it again. "Probably watching cartoons, or something. Back in Nebraska." (A/N: my ass genuinely did not know that was a U.S. state until right now)
You couldn't tell her that today was the day he had died, several years ago. That a year or two before that had happened, Calvin had gone, and a few months before that, Tomas and Alisha had passed too. That Peter had gotten sick, or that Miranda had gone missing before any of that mess had happened. That you were the only one left.
It was a bad lie, and probably one you would regret later, but it was one you ushered past, and Tara didn't seem to pick up on. From one cursed person to another, you figured it was probably best that you keep your own curse to yourself. It's part of what had made you hate Tara so much at first. She walked around knowing her days were likely numbered, so carefree and careless. And then there was you, you who was so careful in order to keep living.
But you couldn't resent her for that. It had melted away with seeing the Tara underneath. The real, beautiful Tara underneath.
"Duck is good, though. I'll bring it out when I want to embarrass you," Tara smiled, inching closer on the table.
"Yeah?" you grinned back at her, standing up to gently tap against the glue. It was set, and your model was finally finished at 4:42 in the morning. Tara leaned close, watching the glue with her own eyes, cheek almost up against yours in curiosity.
You finished the thing, looking over at her and her large, warm brown eyes, staring at the model you had made with so much curiosity and genuine interest. Tara hadn't lifted a finger to help, but you couldn't help but feel like it was partially hers.
You went to pull back but found your face turning towards hers, looking at each other for a long moment. Your eyes lingered on the slope of her nose, down to the curvature of her soft lips, turned up in the corners like Tara always did when she smiled. They looked so soft, and before you knew what was happening, you could feel Tara's hands coming up to the sides of your face, thumbs gently stroking against the skin there.
You couldn't breathe, feeling the warmth of the pads of her fingers on your face and the faint brush of her breath upon your nose. "Tara," you whispered. The pull was magnetic, and just as you were about to say to hell with it all, her phone began to vibrate in her pocket, and you both leapt apart from each other.
You wandered a few feet away, trying to seem busy while she answered it. You could feel Tara watching you while she spoke on the phone, so you did your best to hide the blush that was certainly spread wide across your cheeks.
This was the very girl you had spent the past several months hating. You suddenly felt dizzy, like the world would slip out from under your feet. Tara, the very same annoying girl who had pestered with you and bickered with you. The one who had so much more to her that what you had ever thought possible. The one who drew you in. The one in search of a hook up, for which you were only the decoy. You cleared your throat, whipping around when you heard Tara say "What?!"
"What's wrong?" you asked. "What's going on?"
She crossed her arms over her chest, looking up at you like she was about to cry. "They're questioning Sam again. They think Ghostface is back."
===+++===
DUN DUN DUNNNNNN anyways my ass is going to bed now. also i do not recommend anyone lie to someone they're interested in about who they are, ESPECIALLY an attempted murder victim
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multific · 1 year ago
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A Rare Flower in a Factory
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Karl Heisenberg x Reader
Summary: Everyone has their own hidden little secrets, it just happens to be that Heisenberg's secret is the rarest and most beautiful flower.
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Everyone has their secrets. Even the four Lords.
But no one could have guessed Heisenberg's.
Down deep in the dark, the deepest and most hidden place in his entire factory, just about where the rust ended, there was a living space.
A small, yet comfortable little place that the Lord himself built with his two hands.
Heisenberg was proud, he provided a home.
And in that home lived his beautiful little flower, his bride.
Someone no one would expect to find in such a place.
Yet, there you were, hidden away from Miranda and the other Lords.
Heisenberg's beautiful flower.
You were the reason he wanted to fight to be free. You were the reason he wanted to leave this Godforsaken place and start a new life. 
But no matter what he did, he failed.
He always moved back to his chambers, feeling like a failure. But each time, when he saw you, he felt at ease. As if all his worries melted away.
And you loved him so much.
"Karl?" you called out as he got out of the bath. "Are you hungry?"
"Yes." came his reply and soon he joined you in the kitchen. His arms moved around you as his mouth moved to your neck.
"Not like that..." you giggled as he pulled you closer.
"I'm always hungry for you, Doll. But I do need some food before I have my dessert." you smiled at him as you both finally moved to the table so you could eat.
---
You woke up to the feeling of cold on your feet.
You were naked under the blanket, with an equally naked Karl attached to your back.
It got rather cold in the factory during winter.
But you woke up with the need of pee and your throat felt dry.
You wiggled out of Karl's hold.
You put a long shirt on, which reached to your knees before leaving the room and headed to the bathroom then the kitchen.
On your way to the kitchen, you noticed the door to your home open, you found it weird but decided to just close the door and get your glass and go back to bed.
You poured a glass of water for yourself when you thought you heard a noise.
The factory did make a lot of noise so you didn't think much of it.
However, the second time, you couldn't ignore the footstep you heard, you knew it wasn't Karl, you could hear him snoring.
And just as you rounded a corner, there it was.
One of Karl's many creations. 
It had human legs but it was mostly a machine with huge machetes for arms.
You wanted to run but the thing was faster, it slashed and as you put up your hand to protect yourself, it cut into your palm.
"KARL!" you managed to yell, hoping he would come and save you. 
And again, the monster got ready and this time it slashed your forearm. You made another sound of pain and the machine-human fell to its knees, you heard the metal in his body squeeze.
You looked to your right and noticed Karl.
He was looking at your bloody hand. He made a gesture with his hand and the monster flew backwards, right out the metal door.
He rushed you into the bathroom, taking out a first aid kit and he started to work on your arm.
"This is all my fault."
"It is not, Karl."
"I didn't check if the door was closed."
"It's not your fault." you insisted, but he kept on avoiding your eyes. "Karl." you called out but he didn't listen. He bandaged up your arm and took you back to your bed.
"I'll clean up." he said and you knew he needed his own space and time. So, you allowed him to have it.
By the time he arrived back, you were fast asleep.
---
The next morning, you woke up alone.
You looked for Karl, but he seemed to have gone missing.
You knew better than to roam the factory, so you stayed put, reading your romance books and cooking lunch and dinner.
You also didn't forget to take care of your wound, you cleaned and re-wrapped it.
Karl arrived back later than usual, you waited in the living room for him.
He came into the room, his eyes filled with pain.
"I'm so sorry."
"It is not your fault. The thing wandered where it shouldn't have."
"Exactly, so, I prepared a new place for you, it is still rough around the edges but..."
"Will I get a window?"
"Yes, and a balcony. I'm done hiding you down here, it is far too dangerous."
"But what if Miranda finds out?"
"I bet my ass, she already knows." Karl made his way over to where you were sitting on the couch and knelt down, holding your hand in his. "I always fared something would happen down here with you, you will be a lot safer upstairs." he said and you nodded, you leaned over and placed a kiss on his lips.
"Okay, when will I move?"
"Hopefully tomorrow. I have them working on the rooms for you, then you can add your touch to it." you smiled at him.
"Thank you, but you got to stop blaming yourself, Karl."
"How can I ever make it up to you?" his fingers gently ran along the edge of your badage.
"I have a couple ideas. You can start with your fingers, then your mouth and last-"
"You are naughty." he smirked.
"Just the way you like it." you put your hand on the back of his neck and pulled him up to kiss you.
Karl was definitely thankful for you and your forgiveness. He was so mad with himself all day, he killed every single one of his machines in revenge.
He shouldn't have, but the thought of losing you became overbearing. It was all too much for him.
And he will make sure that no one ever will get to you. Not Miranda and not the entire world, for you were his hidden flower in a garden of madness and pain.
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spicybunni · 4 months ago
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I needed to get this off my chest. If you’re willing to write for dad Heisenberg that is. I assume we all agree that Karl is pretty much a lycan or can become one. So how cute yet creepy would it be if fem reader woke up scratching and entering her child’s bedroom only to see glowing eyes(much like Karl’s) in their baby’s crib. Their baby being part lycan has been on my mind for some time. And we need more Heisendad.
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FATHER'S EYES (Karl Heisenberg x Fem!Reader)
Awww Heisendad sounds so good in theory but it doesn't align with my headcanons of him. 😭Which is why this was so fun to write! I kinda switched some things round but I hope you like it, tbh writing this made me so sad for Karl??? I don't know why?? 😭💕
WARNINGS ⚠️: POST PARTUM PANIC / BABY MISSING FOR A MOMENT / FLUFF
The sounds of scratches and floorboards creaking woke you up. The sounds in question could be heard in the hallway connecting your room to the nursery. You checked the dinky clock next to your bed. It was 2:30 in the morning. You rub your eyes, attempting to wake yourself and see what your baby is up to.
Post partum has been kind to you in many ways, but with sleep? Not so much. You were always a light sleeper to begin with. But after giving birth to Lord Heisenberg's child you were always on alert yet exhausted for sleep sometimes. Karl offered to be with you and try to help with your adjustment to motherhood. You refused his offer, needing time away from his factory and robots and just....him. The factory was no place to raise a child, and with his devotion to Mother Miranda's experiments, he would not be able to provide you proper care. He understood your reasons and offered a alternative, a cabin near the village rather than staying in a rusty room in his factory. It was away to where you had privacy to raise your child, but close enough if you needed help from anyone.
It has been 8 months of you bonding with your baby. Setting routines and observing how your child is growing. Ever since the birth you were worried they would come out with powers. So far, nothing you could notice had come up. But Mother Miranda still has yet to be convinced otherwise.
You walked down the hallways towards the nursery room, the scratching noise you heard stopped as you approached the doorway. You didn't even hear the usual baby whines or coos that you're used to walking in on.
Your eyes widen at the room before you, covered in small scratch marks and toys thrown everywhere, but your baby is nowhere to be found.
Blood turning cold and adrenaline pumping. Calling out your baby's name as calm as you can before panicking and searching everywhere for them. But what mother wouldn't? You can't find them anywhere in their crib or the entire nursery. You rush to your bedroom and search for something that might help you.
The cabin had an installed emergency line that connected to the factory. Karl respected your boundaries, but as the mother of his offspring, he had the bare minimum duty to protect you and offer safety from a distance. You've never had to use it for these past months. Now you were struggling to remember where you had put that damn button. You had lit a lantern to get a better view of your stuff.
You almost didn't hear it, but you heard the cry of your baby finally. But it came from neither your room or the nursey. The sound came from downstairs. Quickly abandoning your search that panic button, you fly to the staircase, looking down into the living room to see if you could spot your child anywhere. Nothing still, but you hear those coos, so they must be down there. Rushing down the stairs with the lantern in hand, illuminating your way.
Was this possibly just a result of a growth spurt and they're able to leave the crib now? All the possibilities were fluttering through your mind. but what you came to see was beyond any expectation you had.
There in the corner near a window, you find the child's father, holding them safe in his arms. Lord Heisenberg was rocking them and whispering random nonsense to keep them quiet. They were slightly illuminated by the moonlight shining through the window. He see's the light of the lantern and turns to you. A few things were different from his normal attire, no hat, no glasses, and no hammer. He smirks at you, leaning down to the baby again.
"It looks like we woke mama up, shame on us." The baby giggles at the sound of their fathers voice.
"M-My lord! What are you doing here?!" You approached them both, setting the lantern on the coffee table to the side. You go to reach for your baby to see that they're alright. But what caught your attention was the two glowing eyes that were fixed on you. Covering your mouth, keeping the gasp in that would've escaped. Instead making you shudder at the sight. There were a few dark veins showing around their head too but they didn't show any discomfort or pain...It was a small transformation they had done while in the crib, frustrated their tiny hands and legs weren't strong enough to maneuver over and come to you. So they manifested the strength that had always been within them.
"They're fine (Y/N), just a few minor growing changes...They have awakened some lycan traits. Guess there's no need for further proof the kid is mine.." He tried to humor you, but you were in any mood but to be humored right now. You glance to him unamused and back to your child.
You stare wide eyed at them in your arms, those matching eyes with their father next to you. Bringing their head to the crook of you neck, in an embrace to hide your look of bewilderment. Was this the development that you worried would come? How do you go about child rearing from here?
There was another pending question on your mind though.
"But...What are you doing here?" You looked up at him again from your thoughts. He was looking down at both of you with something akin to proudness.
"If you really thought I was going to abandon you two here without any protection then you're just as dumb as the average villager here. I have this place under a monitor in case of emergencies. I saw them crawl out of the crib and you weren't waking up at all. Figured you could use some ...guidance in this area. Unless you have experience with human mutagens in toddlers." He says the last part mockingly. Of course you don't. You realize he would be the only one that could possibly help you in this situation.
Wrapping his arm around your back, he leans down and pecks the side of your forehead. Karl's golden eyes regard you warmly. You've done a great job in raising his child, but now he must help you.
"Come. Let's go to back to sleep, (Y/N)...Let's raise our child together."
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avalordream · 8 months ago
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Prompt: Imagine an MC who gets a tattoo that goes all around their ankle so that they always have an "anklet" for Cove.
Pairing: Cove Holden x GN!Reader
Tags: fluff, Cove getting his anklet fix, mostly fluff tho
Word count: 4.7k
A/N: With this newfound will in me, ALLOW ME TO INDULGE YOU IN SOME LOVELY COVE JAMES HOLDEN- Also! This fic was intended for fem readers but it can be taken as gender neutral!
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Now seeing as the age to get a tattoo is roughly 18 years old, let's assume this is Step 3 Cove we're talking about
At this age, Cove and you haven't quite gotten into a relationship yet.
In fact, you're stuck at the crush stage
Even so, you and Step 2 Cove had the talk of what you both were into during the Roadtrip moment. (Y'know- the beige eyes and anklet conversation)
That particular conversation was surprisingly difficult for you to initiate, considering your rather quiet nature
That didn't mean you were shy! No no!
It was just...
Awkward.
It wasn't the "normal" type of conversation you usually had
Maybe it was because of the fact that it was so different that made it so difficult to talk about.
In any case, that led to you thinking over the anklet attraction Cove had, trying to understand it as you lounged around on your bed in the middle of a hot summer day
It was the sort of day where the California sun shone exceptionally hard, the heat making it so nothing really stood out to you. You could almost remember this exact type of day from when you were younger... When Shiloh was still around...and when Cove had just recently moved in.
You were currently lazing about on your bed, soaking up the sun's rays shining through your window as the AC worked to cool your room and a nearby fan rotated slowly, its blades providing an ample amount of background noise. It was truly the staple sound of summer. Your eyes blearily blinked as you stared up at your ceiling fan working overtime to beat the summer heat. Normally your moms weren’t so keen on cranking up the AC but today was an exception, considering the high was a 90. Even the water was warm which meant that even walking along the shoreline - forget it, the sand was practically steaming - wasn’t appealing. 
That left you in your current condition, leaving your mind to wander and daydream about everything and anything in the quiet. It was already noon but there was no rush to go out. While it wasn’t the norm for you to be alone, usually hanging out with Cove or even Terri or Miranda., today was an exception though because of the heat. And in any case, you relished the feeling of just…coasting through the day with nothing to do… free as the birds in the sky… 
A few soft knocks on your door blinked you out of your sleepy stupor as Ma stepped in after you had hummed an affirmative. Her eyes softened as she seemed to take in the sight of you: Curled up yet sprawled out in a cocoon of light blankets and pillows, the sun shining brightly through the window and you relishing it all in the center, having the time of your life. “You doing ok, hon?”, she hummed in turn, trying not to break the peaceful trance you were under as you simply nodded, tucking your hair back as you smiled at her. You loved your ma more than anything, even now as she came close to sit by your head, gently stroking your hair as she eased your head into her lap while you leaned into her hand. Guess today she was feeling pretty lax too… Figures…
You felt your eyelids drooping as she continued, her ministrations cooing you to sleep before her voice, a quiet whisper, kept your attention from waning. “No plans for today?”, she hummed as you yawned, stretching before getting comfy again, nuzzling your nose against her thigh.
“No…not yet at least…”, your voice came out slowly, humming as the fan faced the pair of you, sending a refreshing blast of cold air into your hair. “Just…thinking…You ok, ma?” There had to be a reason why she entered right?... Or…maybe there wasn’t one. That was ok too.
Ma chuckled in some amusement as she shook her head, taking her hand away as you whined, audibly wishing for more. “I’m doing just fine, kiddo… Nothing to worry about. Just wanted to check up on you before I get started on lunch. Do you want anything specific?” You told her your current crave fix before she left the room again, offering another head pat before you were left to your devices again, decidingly more lucid than before as you sat up to stretch and work out the kinks in your back.
You checked your phone just to let your friends know that you were alive and hadn't up and left them- As if Cove would let you anyway, you thought with a chuckle. A funny thought but you weren’t that evil. 
Tossing your device back to the swath of blankets, your mind wandered to the past few years- gravitating back to Cove. It didn’t surprise you as much why now than when your feelings had begun to simmer but the fear of possibly destroying what you already had always stopped you. A worry that proved to damper down on your interactions, restricting them ever so slightly rather than how freeing they used to be. You had become close confidants to one another since the moment he moved in at the ripe age of eight. Given your rich history, it was reasonable to worry that taking such a big step could tarnish what you had and…quite frankly, you weren’t ready to risk it all just yet.
You sighed, feeling the familiar trill of heat flitting over your cheeks as you rubbed them furiously to wipe them away just as fast. Until you figured out what to do with yourself- and- everything- Then the plan was simple: ACT NORMAL. Whatever your new normal was anyhow. You had a feeling Liz knew just by looking at you when Cove was over, judging from the smirk she would send your way- not to mention the teasing remarks! But…you hoped that until you were ready to tell Cove (if you ever did), that…he wouldn’t know. 
It surprised you a little that he hadn’t knocked on your window yet or made his arrival via the door but apparently, judging from the text he had sent you three hours ago, he was helping his dad with the scuba shop. You appreciated the heads up so you knew where to go in case you needed to reach him. 
Your thoughts followed you as you made your way downstairs to get started on lunch- or brunch as mom liked to call it. A smile crept on your face despite the mild joke, appreciating the play on words as your lazy state decided to pull for some cereal, chewing slowly and thoughtfully as you remained quiet. You were more so or a thinker rather than a talker. You preferred to listen rather than start a conversation. It made things easier. With the friend group, you were the same; going with the flow unless it was something you wholeheartedly refused to do. It had never gone to that point before since the group respected your opinions and were quick to pick up on your preferences…one more so than others…
Right as you were washing the dishes, your thoughts wandered again- this time to that anklet discussion all those years ago. You’d be surprised you still remembered it but the entire road trip itself was a memorable experience and would be…rather hard to forget anyhow. (More so for Mr. Holden getting his lunch snatched away by a stray bird but you digressed.) The discussion itself… you still felt a little bad for pushing it onto Cove to answer your questions, even if he had tried to console you when you made it known to him a week later, saying that he didn’t mind since you were only curious. Even so, you never really thought he actually liked anklets all that much… or beige eyes. You already had quite a few anklets you got from Hot Topic that were pretty neat but you never really found the time to use or wear them. It became a sort of…rare occasion kind of thing. Though- you already had the beige eyes- which made you hopeful that he liked you in some capacity?? 
You shot that down quick with a grumbled shake of your head, consoling Ma when she asked if you were ok. 
Your mind was quick to pick back where you left off, sighing as you focused on scrubbing a particularly difficult splotch of cooking from a pan. Anklets…you might not understand entirely why Cove liked them but you gathered that it had to do with the aesthetic of them that appealed to him so much. Maybe. Even so, you enjoyed making some yourself and had gifted some to Cove already, much to his delight. He tried to wear them as much as possible, but after nearly losing one to the ocean, you didn’t see them as often- unless it was too cold to go in the water. At this point, Cove lived and breathed the salty ocean breeze… One time, you had joked that if Cove wasn’t a human in this life, he was definitely a mermaid in his last which was nicely reciprocated with a very flustered Cove with his familiar wobbly smile.
But unlike him, you lost so many of your precious anklets, that also being why you nearly abstained from wearing them entirely. The weight would grow familiar but then you would forget about it until much later. By then, the anklet was long gone and you had gone to too many places to retrace your steps to find them. You remembered one particular time where you had lost an anklet that Cove had gotten you as a birthday gift and you had worn it everywhere. Until the inevitable happened and you had lost it, inconsolable as even Liz had been roped into helping you find it. Mr. Holden did end up finding it in his shop but that was the final nail in the coffin for the entire anklet business. From then on, you kept most of your anklets under lock and key unless it was a special occasion like going to the Cypress’ dinners or such. 
What you needed was a way to wear one without losing it…you wouldn’t mind as much if it were one of your own- but if it was one that someone gave you… At that point, you figured you should buy a display for them. There wasn’t a point for them gathering dust in the wild…
“Hey baby sis- You done over there?” 
Liz stood behind you with a caring smile, a smile on her face but her eyes held a little concern as you followed their gaze to the now pristine pan in your hands- as well as the time. “You must’ve been really focused, huh?”, she chuckled with a conspiratorial tone as you quietly rinsed the pan and put it aside, segwaying into a classic Liz interrogation as she pick-pocketed your brain… to which she had a solution. 
“Well…”, she started as you wiped your hands on the drying towel. “How about a tattoo that looks like an anklet?” Feeling your questioning stare, Liz held out her hands. “Here me out: Firstly, I’m not saying to go and get a tattoo on a whim. Think over it- Obviously. Removing it costs at least twice or three times as much so give it some thought. But…in a way… You’d still be wearing an anklet and you’d never lose it, right?” The more she talked about it, the more it made sense to you. Obviously, you had to promise her (and your moms ‘cause they were listening) not to get that tattoo right away if you wanted to- and if you did, to at least let them know. No matter what you chose, they made it clear that they’d support your decision either way and loved you very much. As per usual, this brought a smile to your face and it never failed to make your day.
You didn’t end up getting that tattoo until around a week later, having taken Liz with you as moral support. She joked that you took her because Cove declined but that wasn’t the case. Instead, you wanted to try to surprise him! It was a very out-of-the-blue sort of thing for you to try but it was new and you were curious about the entire process. While it wouldn’t be the same as wearing an anklet, at least you’d never lose it! Besides! You still had all the anklet shrine to refer back to if you ever needed it. 
The tattoo shop wasn’t near the neighborhood shops or district, meaning Liz had to drive you into the city. It was…surprisingly pretty cute, judging from the pictures online! Which was…not the aesthetic you expected. It was also a little close to Mr. Holden’s shop if you and Liz wanted to walk over to say hello. Speaking of, Cove was supposedly hanging out with Terri and Miranda so as far as you were aware, there was very little chance for your paths to cross so everything checked out! 
As for the anklet in question… you decided to go for a (intricate/cutesy/simple) design with (floral/beachy) aspects. If you decided on floral aspects, you pulled up pictures of the white poppies behind your house for the tattoo artist as a reference as well as asking for some fireflies to be floating around them. The hill behind your house was where you met him after all…and the memories behind catching fireflies with you, him, Liz and Shiloh were important to you… 
If you decided on beachy aspects, you pulled up a picture of your favorite orange seashell, the same one that Cove was drawn to in your collection on your first playdate, and the dolphin keychain that he got you when you went to the shops together. The tattoo artist had nodded and gave you the rundown of what was going to happen. You pointed down to the ankle you wanted the tattoo on as your sister stayed by your side, taking her role as your moral support incredibly seriously. 
Once you decided on what the design would look like, they got right to work. The first few pin pricks of pain were easy to bear but as time went on, your grip on your sister’s hand tightened as she tried to make you feel better by pointing out how great it’d look after- and Cove’s face when he saw it. Despite her laughter at your blushing face at the thought, that little comment did help you pull through and before you knew it, it was over. 
You finally let go of Liz’s hand who didn’t complain one bit the entire time so…you were grateful to her for putting up with you. The area where the tattoo was sensitive, the tattoo artist told you. They also said that tattoos typically took two to four weeks to heal on the surface, but it could take three to six months to fully heal. It usually involved a week of redness and oozing, followed by two to three weeks of itchiness and peeling. They had already told you this before getting you set up to get a tattoo but they wanted to remind you again, just to be sure you’d take extra care of your skin during that process. You were quick to reassure them, making a mental note to be extra kind to yourself in these upcoming months. 
After the talk was over, they saw you back to the front, finalized the payment and sent you on your merry way as you couldn’t help but awe over their work. The (white poppies/seashells) were beautiful and they had stuck to your original design well, considering what you asked for. Your skin was holding up fairly well and you loved the colors on it so much, Liz had to stop you from accidentally bumping into everything.
“If you like it so much, take a picture of it! It’ll last longer! And you could send it to your lover boy!~”, Liz laughed teasingly although you knew she was trying to keep you safe. “He’s not my lover boy…”, you sighed, shaking your head as you tried to walk away from her to look for a bench, ignoring her laughter as she followed. “Not yet!~”, she warbled, obviously taking amusement in your half-hearted misery. As soon as you sat down, you quickly aimed your phone at the tattoo and sent it straight to Cove. Sure, you meant to keep it from him just a little longer but- crush aside- he was your closest friend and you told everything to each other. It was a habit you fully indulged in- except for the crush part. Obviously.
_______
MC: Hey
MC: Look what I got :D
<MC sent a picture 1 second ago>
Cove: Thats a tattoo
Cove: Wait
Cove: THATS A TATTOO
MC: Ahuh
Cove: YOU GOT A TATTOO
MC: Yup
Cove: Since when??
MC: Like 
MC: Five minutes ago
MC: Got it at a tattoo parlor in the shopping district with Liz
MC: And Liz says hi
Cove: Where
MC: Down past art gallery
Cove: Stay there
MC: Wait why
Cove has gone offline
_______
Huh. That was weird. 
Liz had noticed the confused look on your face, accepting your phone once you handed it over to see what her thoughts were on it. Your older sister stifled a bark of laughter before passing it back over with a grin. “Don’t worry about it!~ Tell you what: How about I scour around for a snack before we head back?”, she cooed teasingly, patting your shoulder as you huffed quietly, crossing your arms as she stood up. You offered to go with her but she shook her head, saying she’d be fine and that she didn’t need a chaperone.
You did ask if she could get some (strawberry ice-cream/pretzels), making a mental note to share in case Cove did end up stopping by. Thankfully, Liz didn’t comment on the gleam in your eyes and playfully rolled her eyes before walking down the street. No matter how many years passed by, you made sure to watch your sister as long as you could before she turned a corner. It never failed to make you anxious being utterly alone in a space, given that you were always with someone throughout your entire childhood. There was safety in numbers, you guessed.
You didn’t have to wait long before the buzz in your pocket alerted you to a text, distracting from your plight as you pulled it out. It was Cove.
_______
Cove: Im at the shop
Cove: Where are you?
_______
That was your cue. 
You got up from the bench and stepped back on the main street to look back where the tattoo shop was. And right there was a familiar mop of seafoam green hair looking up and down the street. Couldn’t imagine why. 
“Cove!”, you called out, watching his eyes widen and look for the source as you (waved/shouted again/stepped into sight) to get his attention. Seeing how his face visibly brightened just by seeing you alone never failed to make you smile. He was quick to join your side, offering a hug which you easily accepted, snuggling yourself in his warmth as his arms curled around you softly, resting his cheek on your (head/shoulder). 
Just as fast as he had come, came your realization as you pulled your head back to look at him. “Wait- How did you get here so fast?,” you started as Cove tilted his head slightly with a small smile, catching up to the speed of your words. “I sent that text not even five seconds ago!” 
Your neighbor was quick to blush lightly, rubbing the back of his hair as he seemed to look anywhere but at you. “The hangout with Terri and Miranda was cut short so I asked if they could drop me off at dad’s shop.”, he chuckled, finding his eyes drawn back to you as you listened with a nod. “I would’ve drove myself but I wasn’t driving everyone around this time.” His hand found its way back to your back, keeping you close although you certainly didn’t mind. “That’s when I got your text and decided to walk here to meet up. Where’s Liz though?... You told me she said hi.”
You figured it probably didn’t settle right with him, seeing you all alone and by your lonesome with your sister nowhere to be found. You pat his arm, offering a smile to try and alleviate his worries as his worried frown persisted. “It’s ok! Liz offered to grab some snacks while I waited for you. And I didn’t stray far anyway. The plan was to stick by the bench until (I found you/she came back)!” He seemed to accept the explanation, sighing even then but grateful that nothing bad happened to you. 
“Ok cool. How about we head back to that bench? We can talk and- Oh!” His mouth opened in shock as he realized what he came here for. Cove looked down at you, a determined look on his face as he tried to properly word his thoughts into something coherent. “Were you being serious about the tattoo? That…wasn’t a joke, right?”, he asked hopefully, barely to stay still, judging from how he let go of you to fiddle with the bracelets on his wrist. You knew it’d probably shock or catch him off guard so you decided to play coy, putting a finger to your lips and skipping on back to the bench as you left Cove in some confusion. It took him a minute to react before quickly following you like a lost puppy, a sentiment you kept to yourself, trying not to giggle at the thought of it- although it didn’t go unnoticed by your precious neighbor.
As soon as the pair of you sat down, Cove was quick to ask about the tattoo. It was why you were here anyway and he seemed a bit more interested in the fact that it looked like it was around your ankle. The (skirt/pants) you wore covered it up so he couldn’t even get a sneak peak at it- if it was real at all. Sure, you liked to joke around and tease him from time to time but Cove didn’t think you’d go so far to joke about…a tattoo. It just didn’t rub off of him right. And if you did… Well. He didn’t want to go down that route. It was why he was here anyways! You were close by and had a tattoo he needed to verify! 
Thankfully for him, you weren't the type to deny him much (of anything.) You spoiled your neighbor rotten too much already- what was one more going to do to him? You pulled up your (skirt/pant leg) slightly to show off the tattoo as Cove’s eyes widened, the (fireflies flitting around the white linen poppies/ dolphin keychain diving around the orange seashell and coral reefs) catching his eye as he inhaled sharply. “Can I…?”, he barely whispered, his voice reduced to almost nothing as his fingers were a breath away from tracing the (eccentric/adorable/simplistic) designs. You were (quick/slow/hesitant) to nod as he took the initiative to take extra care not to irritate your sensitive skin, easily in awe and appreciative of the colors splashing across your skin-kissed canvas. He was already going down the memory lane, judging from the tears that bubbled up in his eyes. “Surprise?”, you offered, giving a sheepish smile as your ocean-loving lover boy (Liz would cry tears of laughter if she heard your thoughts) looked up with one of his iconic sappy smiles.
“It must be my birthday…”, he whispered, sniffling as your hand moved to wipe his tears away. Cove leaned into your touch with ease, his wobbly smile evident even when he tried to cover it up. He would always be touched by sentimentality; the reaction to something small meant volumes- it was truly the memories behind those items that held the most meaning to him. Your existence was paramount to his growth and he would always be ever so grateful to you for being his favorite neighbor.
“But…did you get for yourself or me?”, Cove continued, his smile replaced by a worried frown. Judging from the look his eyes, it was pretty discernable to guess where they stemmed from. It was the same concern Liz had indirectly brought up when you were washing the dishes a week ago: Getting a tattoo was a pretty huge decision and it wasn’t something to decide on a whim. While you knew that your family and Cove would support whatever decision you chose, you guessed you had to reassure him that, yes, you chose it for you but you also chose it for him…mostly for you though!! 
“Cove James Holden,” you started, which easily startled him as your grip gently squished his cheeks, drawing out a pout from him. He knew that you knew that you were being serious but having way too much fun messing with him. And also- you never really called him by his full name? Actually…when did you find out his full name??  “I promise you that I got this anklet tattoo just for me and that I was 100% sober while doing so. Nobody made me do it except me, myself and I.”, you vowed in a rather (silly/serious/exasperated) voice, making sure to exaggerate quite a bit just to see him try and fail to fight off a snort of laughter. 
“Alright, alright! I’ll lay off!”, he chuckled as you finally let go of his face, satisfied even as he struggled to hide his blush. “You know you’re adorable right?”, you spoke up (with a smirk, teasing him shamelessly/shyly, bashfully trying to hide your own blush/with a soft smile, being as honest as you always were). It always ended up the same way- Cove started blushing up a storm and tried his hardest to vehemently deny any and all allegations while you would laugh and easily bring up every moment where he was. This would prompt him to flip the tables onto you and you would be on the receiving end of compliments galore, to your (amusement/embarrassment/surprise). In the end, you both had come to the agreement that you both were equally deserving of praise despite not outwardly agreeing to those allegations, much to both of your dismays. 
Unbeknownst to you, the tattoo had affected Cove more than he let on. Yes, it nearly reduced him to tears, seeing how you managed to tie key points in your conjoined childhood into a tattoo that was on your skin for…forever-!  But… there was a part of him that was…relishing in the fact that you not only got in the form of an anklet but that it was just as much as it was for you as it was for him. It meant the world to him that those pieces of your childhood were just as important to you as they were for him. Although Cove didn’t like imagining a world without you in it, he was grateful he had you in his life. You were there when he needed you and… Well, before he knew it, the waterworks bubbled over again, trailing down his face as your fingers held his face again to wipe them away.
“What’s wrong, Cove?...”, you (whispered, gentle and soothing/hummed, direct and straight to the point) as you always were.
“Nothing nothing…”, he whispered, content to simply be with you for as long as he could. “I’m just…really glad you’re in my life.” His aquamarine eyes focused on you, offering a wide smile as you returned with ease, (hugging him through your own tears/ruffling his hair with a grin/holding his hand with a comforting squeeze). One day he’d tell you just how much you meant to him but… not right now. He found comfort in familiarity but he couldn’t hold it off forever.
The more things change, the more they stay the same…
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thisgirlnamedblusy · 2 months ago
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heyy, at first I wanted to say I love your works so much! You're so talented with your writing...
Anyway could you write something like G!PDonna x maid reader where y/n was a girl from the village who ran away but got lost and Donna saved her, y/n started working for her for free just to have a place to live and gradually they got closer until Donna realized that she was so in love with her And she starts to be very possessive, but she doesn't show it because they still are not dating and one day Some young vampire comes to visit to pick up something and starts flirting and Donna goes crazy.
They end up in a big fight and Donna ping y/n against a wall and feelings will be revealed....maybe some vanilla smut at the end...
Thanks! And also sorry for my English...i'm still learning<3
Yess!!!! Thank you for you kindness and for your request!!! I hope you like it and sorry about the language mistakes!!!! :))))))))
To be her maid
Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem, Maid! Reader
Warnings: G!P Donna, smut, Minors DNI, slightly dark themes, possessive Donna
Word count: 8,793
Summary: To leave and die, to stay and love, what a decision...
N/A: Sorry about the language mistakes!!! Requests are open!!! I'm waiting yours!!! I love you all!!! :))
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Your parents were right: no one could ever leave the village.
Wandering through the forest was always a risk, getting lost in that tangle of trees and snow would be easy even for the bravest of explorers.
But you were not brave, nor an explorer. You were just a villager, an ordinary girl who lost everything, who had no reason to stay in a place like that. Your family was gone, the Black Gods, who Mother Miranda defended, had abandoned you.
With nothing to fight for but your own life, with nothing to thank the Gods for, your only way out was the most risky: escape.
You didn't know what leaving that sinister village could bring you, what a girl like you could do in an unknown world. But, finding out, was much better than waiting for the darkness to consume you.
A small backpack and a desire to escape was your only luggage. Not even your old home had had mercy on you. The outside world offered itself to you as an alternative you couldn’t refuse, or rather, as your only alternative.
A few more hours of walking, and you would be free.
But your illusions outweighed reality, your desire to live outside that darkness eclipsed your situation. You couldn't escape, and deep down, you knew it. Turning around wasn't an option, guiding yourself by the dark lights of the village would only bring you more suffering, you had to continue.
Some growls behind the bushes made you stop and look around. It could be a dog, a forest vermin, something totally harmless. You swallowed as your eyes danced through the forest, looking for a different pattern in the movements of the branches, something that would tell you where those growls were coming from. Everything seemed so calm that it could only be that calm before the storm.
“Calm down, (Y/N), it's just the wind,” you whispered, forcing your legs to walk again. Your reassuring words wouldn’t take long to lose their effect.
One step, two, three... Footsteps in the snow that sounded closer and closer petrified your body again.
“Okay,” you whispered again, taking a map out of your pocket, one that indicated the path to freedom beyond the domain of the dark deities, of Mother Miranda, of the Lords...
The snow made it difficult for you to orient yourself, but your movements resumed automatically, moving away from the noise and deviating from the path. The faster you walked, the faster those footsteps in the snow seemed. Reality was stalking you, although you refused to believe it.
A furious roar diverted your gaze from the bushes. It was not a man, nor a wolf, it was a monster. One of those chosen by Mother Miranda to protect the village, to protect your insignificant lives, stood before you with a bloodthirsty gaze.
Lycan, that was its name, the name the Gods gave to that poor villager whose blind faith drove him to become a beast.
You breathed heavily, but fear made you back away. Those bloody eyes stared at you as the cold steam came out of its jaws. You didn't want to go back, but you had to find an alternative route.
Behind you, more monstrous creatures waited to devour you, to punish you for your audacity. They only growled, watching you, waiting for the best moment to attack you.
Your voice dried up and your body trembled with terror. You had nothing to fight for, but many reasons to live, to not let fear consume you, to flee, to escape, to earn that freedom.
With your eyes you looked for a corner, a gap in the bushes that you approached slowly. The growls of the beasts confirmed their displeasure, and they were the signal you needed to start running.
You fled without a destination, unable to look back.
Your strength weakened after a short time, they didn’t get tired of chasing you. You seemed safe, but you still heard their roars. After taking a breath, you continued running forward, until the path became rocky and then, nonexistent.
Your feet found no ground to support them and your body fell into the void. You rolled down a steep slope, covering your head. No, you couldn't end up like this.
With a thud, you fell to the ground. The creatures roared, but apparently, they couldn't see you.
“Oh...” you lamented, getting up from the penetrating cold of the snow, looking around. “I think I have lost them...” you whispered, scanning the clearing with your gaze. There was only an old tree surrounded by rock walls.
Not managing to recognize the place, you took out the map again, looking for something similar. You didn't find it, you were lost.
“What is this?” you asked, approaching an object hanging from the tree, something that looked like a hanged person. Of course, it wasn't, it was just an old doll. “A doll?”
 Before your reasoning could begin to draw conclusions, a cloud of snow came down the wall you fell down. You hadn't lost them. The lycans would never stop until they got their prey.
With no time to react, you ran again, the roars were getting closer. In front of you there was only one way out: an old wooden bridge. You couldn't even stop to take a look at the map, even though you were convinced you had seen that bridge somewhere.
It didn't matter anymore. The wolves were chasing you even through that unstable wood. The other side was anything but a safe place. Not even the heights or the instability seemed to those beasts to want to stop.
Your clumsiness caused you to stumble again, falling to the ground. You felt claws pulling at your leg, the satisfied growls of those beasts dragging you into their jaws. (Y/N) had met her end.
“No!” you screamed desperately, kicking that lycan in a last attempt to save yourself, one that you knew was useless. “No, no, no!”
You could already feel the breath of that monster, that anxious panting to devour your flesh but, suddenly, your leg was released with a gasp of pain.
You opened your eyes to check what had happened. The four creatures that were chasing you had moved away, looking at you with impossible, terrified eyes. Agonizing cries came from their jaws as they slowly retreated across the bridge.
“What…?” you asked in a sigh, crawling backwards through the snow, watching how suddenly the monsters seemed to fear you. Fear a villager? No, it couldn't be possible.
The beasts growled again, retreating faster, more frightened. At your side you saw a black shadow, one that passed by you without paying attention, that stood at the end of the bridge, looking at the lycans.
A black dress, a black veil, a stoic figure standing before you. It took your frightened head a while to understand, but not long enough to not be able to react.
There was only one person, one woman who could fit those characteristics. The lycans were not the most dangerous thing in that place. In front of you, with her back turned, was one of the Lords, the youngest, surely the most feared: the doll maker, Donna Beneviento.
The beasts retreated even further, fleeing in terror from that imposing presence. They feared her, those beasts feared her, and so did you.
Since it seemed that the lady in black had ignored your presence, you decided to take advantage of the opportunity to retrieve your backpack from the snow and back away slowly, without attracting attention.
“That's it, that's it! Get out of there, you rude mutts!” a shrill voice made you shrink in place, but you couldn't stop, you had to get out of there as soon as possible. “And don't come back! Donna, Donna, what are the lycans doing here?”
The lady simply shrugged, emitting what seemed like a sigh. Unintentionally, you had stopped in your attempt to run away and when you realized, it was too late.
“Hey, hey! You!”  The lady turned to your position and that sinister puppet pointed at you effusively.
You shook your head, finally reacting, standing up and running away again clumsily.
“Hey! Where do you think you're going, stupid?”  the doll shrieked while you looked at it terrified.
Fear made you do something stupid, made you look back, at that woman in black instead of at the path ahead of you. The worst mistake of your life.
Your body collided painfully with a tree, causing you to get seriously dizzy and fall to the ground.
“Ow…” you complained, looking at the cloudy sky, your head throbbing in pain and slow steps in the snow getting closer and closer.
That dark figure came closer, looking at you from above. She didn't say anything, she didn't do anything. She just watched you.
“Hey, stupid! Were you trying to go through the tree with that big head of yours?” the doll said, putting itself in your range of vision, harassing you with that sinister look.
You turned around scared, leaning your back against the tree, running as far away as possible from those two dark figures.
The doll, whose name was Angie, returned to the arms of its owner with a comical movement, looking at her curiously, and then at you, repeating that gesture several times.
“What are you doing in my territory?” the doll spoke again, but with a much deeper, much darker voice.
You were terrified, you couldn't move and the words didn't seem to want to come out of your mouth.
“What are you doing in my territory!?” the puppet shouted again, without losing that different darkness in its voice. It was the lady who spoke, you had no doubt.
“I... I...” you murmured, hurt and scared, raising your knees to your chest, like a protective shield that you knew didn't exist.
“Don't you know what happens to stupid little girls who dare to come here?” Angie said again, with that voice that wasn't Angie's, while the lady bent down to look at you more closely.
“Y-Yes I do, my lady,” you were able to say, looking away from that black veil, from that dark figure, the figure of death itself.
“Oh, so you know…” Angie murmured, as the woman stood up again. “Then you must be stupid.”
You shook your head, closing your eyes, awaiting a fate even worse than death.
“Do you know who I am?” she asked again, in a darker tone. “Answer!”
“Lady Beneviento,” you said in a small voice, lowering your head, burying it between your legs. “Please have mercy on me.”
“What are you doing here? Speak!” she shrieked, enraged by your lack of communication, one that it was due to the fear you felt.
“I didn't want to come here, my lady… I…” you sobbed, joining your hands to beg for forgiveness. “I, I, I was being chased by some lycans and I ran, I fell and… I didn't know I was in your territory, I swear.”
“Did you get lost?” she asked, in a confused tone. “Are you lost?”
“Y-yes…” you sighed. “I fell down a hill and ended up here… I didn't know where I was, I was just, I was just trying to escape and…”
“Why were the lycans chasing you?” she asked in a calmer tone, without letting the doll go from her arms.
“I-I don't know, my lady,” you said uncertainly, knowing that it was not possible to deceive her.
“Perché menti?” a different voice asked, hoarse, a whisper coming from that black veil. You opened your eyes and shook your head again, kneeling on the ground.
“I didn't understand you, my lady, but please. Don’t, don't kill me... Please...” you begged with a sob, clasping your hands tightly together.
“Mm,” the lady murmured, looking curiously at the doll. “What do you think, Angie?”
“That she's stupid!” the doll shrieked, this time, with her real voice. “She's lost because she's a fool.”
“Please...” you sobbed again, trying not to open your eyes.
“Get up,” the doll ordered you, again with that dark voice. “Get up!” she shrieked, when she saw that her words had no effect on you. “You're coming with me.”
Unwillingly, with your whole body shaking, you obeyed.
You followed the lady through the forest until you reached a small clearing, one where you were forced to go up in an elevator, in absolute silence. Once up there, the vision in front of you made you shudder. A beautiful waterfall gently ran down a cliff, guarding an old mansion, one you had seen before, the Beneviento House.
“Come in,” that dangerous woman whispered, not needing her doll to talk to you, pushing you roughly inside that dark house. “Come on, move,” she insisted, seeing how your body seemed to want to stick to the dusty wooden floor.
You were so scared that you didn’t even bother to scan the house with your gaze. You simply sat down on the indicated sofa while the lady did the same, in front of you.
“Now, silly girl, we’re going to have a conversation,” Angie explained, in that shrill tone. “My Donna is going to ask you some questions and you are going to answer them, is that clear?”
You shifted on the sofa, nodding cowardly, trying not to look up.
“And don't try to lie, stupid, stupid... We'll know,” the doll threatened, leaning on a small coffee table and pointing at you in an unpleasant manner.
“What will happen to me if I lie?” you asked nervously, looking for somewhere to hide, somewhere to escape.
Neither the lady nor the doll answered directly, but rather let the silence enhance the tension of that conversation.
“You don't want to know, fool,” Angie sang, getting down from the table when the lady gestured towards her, directing the doll to her lap.
You lowered your gaze again.
“First question: what were you doing in my territory?” the doll asked, with that strange distorted voice again.
You weren't sure whether to look at the doll, or on the contrary, look for the hidden eyes of Lady Beneviento. Either option seemed dangerous.
“I've already told you,” you said, knowing that at least in that, you could be honest. “I was being chased by lycans, I tripped over a cliff and fell.”
“Mm,” the murmur came from the black veil. “Why were the lycans chasing you?” she asked, again, through her doll.
“Because…” you stammered. That was a dangerous question, too dangerous. “Because…”
“Stop stammering and answer me,” the lady growled, in her own voice.
“It's okay,” you finally said. After all, there was nothing that could save you. “I tried to leave the village.”
“Leave the village? Perché?” the woman in black asked, not needing the doll. Maybe she was just as nervous as you, although it seemed unlikely.
“Per, Per…” you repeated confused, scratching the back of your neck. “Sorry?”
“Why, you fool? Oh, Donna, just kill her, she's even dumber than she seems,” the doll protested, moving from her lap and walking towards you.
“Because…” you said, letting your nerves go aside, preventing the lie from showing through your words. No, there was no need to lie anymore. You were in the house of death. “I had nothing left, my lady.”
“Explain yourself,” she murmured, crossing her arms, ignoring the tugs the doll was giving on her black dress.
“My, my parents died three years ago and…” you began to explain, somehow, a little more calmly. If you didn't lie, you would be safe. “They, they were devotees of the Black Gods, but they never listened to their prayers.”
“Continue,” Lady Beneviento insisted, with a clearer, more understandable tone.
“We lost our crops, the animals died of hunger, my mother got sick and... My, my father couldn't bear it,” you explained, feeling a shiver from those bad memories.
“But you're still here,” she corrected, with an impatient, melodic voice, just like those strange words.
You shook your head, sighing, looking at the grey sky through the window.
“A storm destroyed my house a week ago. I no longer have a family, a home, or anything,”  you said sighing, remembering out loud your miseries, what led you to risk yourself, and escape.
The lady nodded with disinterest. At the moment, nothing you said seemed like a lie to her.
“Is that all?” she asked, after another tense moment of silence.
“Is that all? I think that's enough reason to want to get out of here,” you answered, annoyed by that insinuation.
“Enough reason to want to die?” she asked again, with a haughty tone, leaning slightly towards you.
“I don't want to die, my lady, I just want to get out of this place,” you said with a softer voice, repressing any impulse to scream, to protest at that apparent incomprehension.
“Let me tell you something, you unfortunate girl...” Beneviento murmured, getting up from the chair with that same dark elegance. “Getting out of here only means dying.”
“What else could I do?” you asked with a frown, with anger beginning to run through your veins.
“I don't know. Maybe instead of complaining, you could have looked for a solution,” the woman in black rebuked you, with that same hoarse, cocky tone, one typical of what she was, a Lord.
“A solution? Excuse me, my lady, but I think you haven’t understood my situation,” you said nervously.
“Mm, a girl like you…” she sighed, getting closer, with a slow step. “Do you know how to clean?”
“Yes,” you answered confused, blinking rapidly.
“Cook?”
“Yes, more or less,” you said with your voice getting weaker and weaker.
“Mm, then… Why don't you look for work instead of throwing yourself to your death? The castle always needs maids,” the lady asked, with a tone that seemed to hide some contempt for your sorrows.
“I don't like the castle, my lady,” you said, lowering your gaze, moving your legs nervously.
No, you didn't want to end up there, you didn't want to end up serving that lady in white, you didn't want your fate to be the same as your friends, some who, once they entered that place, would never return.
A sound like laughter escaped from the lady in black as she shook her head.
“Oh… But the castle sure likes you,” Angie commented, absent until that moment.
“Mm, okay, silly girl…” the woman in black sighed. “I'm tired of hearing you talk…”
“Can I go, my lady?” you asked, standing up hastily, not believing that you could get out of that place alive.
“Yes, go away, but I warn you…” she hissed. “If you try to escape from the village, you will die. So I recommend that you return to your ruined cabin. This time I won’t be there to protect you.”
Those last words entered your mind, unlocking a truth that you were not yet aware of.
You were about to die, those beasts had already caught you. They were ready to devour you. But they didn’t, Donna Beneviento appeared and the monsters fled. You thought she had barely noticed your presence, but you were wrong. Whether you wanted to or not, that woman had saved you from dying in a horrible way, she had saved your life.
“My lady,” you said thoughtfully, already walking towards the door, turning around slowly. “I haven’t thanked you.”
“Mm? Cosa?” she asked, crossing her arms again, moving a leg impatiently.
“Thank you, my lady,” you stammered, relaxing your expression. “You saved my life.”
A mocking laugh came from the doll, who tilted her head to mock you. The lady didn’t move, she simply nodded almost imperceptibly.
“Well, anyone can make a mistake,” she murmured, looking away. You couldn’t help but smile at those words. “Go away, you are disturbing me.”
You nodded, biting your lip and turning around again. The doll maker's words bounced around in your mind.
Yes, she was right, she didn’t have to lie to you, dissuade you from your attempt to escape. She only warned you of the danger you would have by doing so, why would she bother to warn you? What did Lady Beneviento care about the life of a stupid villager like you? Maybe it was not as terrible as everyone said.
Escape and die, stay and live. Two options that traveled dangerously through your mind. Staying could mean death too, dying of cold, of hunger… Escaping was just the prelude to a quick, but more painful death.
The trembling of your body and the inevitable death you would suffer with either of those two options forced your brain to work hard, looking for a third, one you didn’t think about too much.
“My lady,” you said, before crossing the door, with a frown. “I could stay with you.”
“What do you mean, silly?” Angie asked, with an exaggerated gasp of surprise. “Stay here?”
“Yes, I…” you said hastily, leaving your small backpack on the floor. “I could, I could be your maid.”
“Maid? I thought you said you didn't like being a maid,” the lady asked, with a curious tone, not too startled by your proposal. You didn't know if that was a good sign.
“No, I... I said I didn't like the castle,” you corrected with a nervous smile, you didn't know why.
“Do you like this house?” she asked, with a voice that betrayed distrust.
“I don't know, but... I think, I think it would be a better option than dying,” you sighed tiredly, making use of your last resource, your last desperate option. “You don't even have to pay me.”
“Don't you want money?” the lady asked, tilting her head curiously. “What kind of stupid maid are you?”
“I'm not a maid, I'm just a desperate girl who needs a place to live,” you said confidently, sounding as sad as possible, thinking that, if inside that dress there was something resembling a heart, maybe it would soften.
“A desperate girl,” Lady Beneviento repeated, darkening her posture. “Idiota.”
“There's no need to insult, my lady,” you said in a small voice, risking yourself again.  
“Do you think your life is a disgrace, stupid?” she asked nervously, approaching you and grabbing the collar of your dress, making you gasp in fear. “Do you think you're the only one who has lost everything?” she rebuked you, with one hand tightly grabbing your clothes and the other traveling to her black veil, pushing it away with a brusque gesture. “Look at me... Look at me!”
“My, my lady,” you complained, finally discovering one of the biggest mysteries of the village, what was behind that black veil.
No matter how many times you looked at it, nowhere on that beautiful face could you see anything resembling a monster. Donna was a beautiful woman, really beautiful. You didn't even know why that was your first impression. You should be scared.
“I lost everything too, my family, my life! Don't think you're special, stupid girl…” the lady growled, letting you go in an unpleasant way. “Now get out of here, you don't want to work for a monster like me.”
“You're not a monster,” you said without thinking, letting your voice speak as it wanted, not how it should. “You, your face is fine, you have a very… beautiful eye…”
“Are you laughing at me?” she asked with a deranged look. You quickly shook your head.
“Um, Donna, Donna…” Angie interrupted, tugging hard at her dress, gesturing for Donna to pick her up from the floor. “Maybe it's not such a bad idea for this fool to work for us… Think about it, it's free…”
“Mm…” she murmured, fighting her own demons, some of which you had already heard about. “Va bene…”
“What?” you asked nervously, putting on your clothes, that were disheveled by her grip.
“What's your name?” she asked, breathing nervously, not bothering to cover her face again. You didn't know if it was because she was going to kill you, or because she liked your reaction. “Your name…” she hissed impatiently.
“(Y/N),” you said in a small voice.
 She turned her gaze, nodding nervously, pointing at you with her finger.
“Fine, (Y/N) you will work for me. But don't expect me to thank you, I'm the one doing you a favor and I warn you,” she hissed, darkening that beautiful look. “Try to play me and you'll wish the lycans would devour you.”
You smiled in relief, nodding profusely. At least you wouldn't have to escape anymore. At least your life would start to make a little more sense.
At first it was difficult for you to adapt to this new life. Your dreams of going out into the outside world were still very present in your mind. Little by little, as time went by, they were only faint memories.
Living with Donna Beneviento was complicated, but bearable. You were able to see her delicate mental health, her crises, her anger without reason… Miraculously, you began to stop them and comfort that lady in black even though she didn't ask you to.
You were nothing but a maid, for you there were no more words than a thank you from time to time, or a whisper that you couldn't understand. Little by little, you also began to relax, to get used to that language that you didn't understand, to feel the presence of the lady in black as something comfortable and not threatening.
You would always be grateful to her, even though you were afraid to show it, to tell her. To her you were just a nuisance, but at least a useful one. Fortunately or unfortunately, the Angie doll fulfilled the social needs of a human being, giving you the opportunity to talk to her, even if it was just nonsense, or mockery of you.
Donna's mysterious gaze was always on you, you could feel it when she thought you weren't aware. She was always vigilant, always attentive to your movements. What at first you considered as a slight uncomfortable harassment soon became routine, soon your head turned towards her, outlining an increasingly sincere smile.
A smile that was not difficult for you to emit, the same smile you slept with every night, under the shelter of those rickety walls, under the shelter and protection of a Lord, one increasingly present in your thoughts, in your feelings.
“Excuse me, my lady,” you said entering the workshop with a hurry, carrying a tray with a steaming cup of tea. The lady didn’t turn around, she simply gestured for you to come closer. You weren’t expecting a greeting either… “Your tea.”
“Grazie, (Y/N),” the brunette murmured, seeming to be concentrating on two small garments, surely for one of her hundreds of dolls.
“Is everything okay, my lady?” you asked curiously, looking, as for some time now, for an excuse to stay by her side, even if it was only a few more minutes.
She just nodded, comically scratching her head. She seemed distracted, more thoughtful than usual.
“Go away, you're disturbing me,” she whispered, without looking at your face. You sighed in defeat and obeyed, turning around with a soft bow. “Wait, wait, come here.”
Her voice sounded hurried, nervous, while her hand again indicated you to come closer. You avoided smiling shamelessly, but obeyed elegantly.
“Can I help you with something, my lady?” you asked kindly, with a calm face, hiding the strong beating of my heart.
“Um, sì…” she murmured, getting up from the work table and abruptly grabbing a chair, placing it next to her. “Sit down.”
You nodded and did as she asked, intrigued.
“Tell me, (Y/N), what do you think it is?” she asked with a frown, extending what looked like a porcelain body towards you. You took it nervously, examining it in detail.
“A, a doll, my lady,” you said in a low voice, returning the object to her. She smiled mockingly, shaking her head.
“Una bambola… No, (Y/N),” she said, with a tired sigh, rubbing her eye and leaving that porcelain body standing on the table. “Dolls have clothes. Do you see any clothes?” she asked somewhat nervously, as if she was frustrated in some way.
You shrugged, trying to keep that kind smile.
“I'm sorry, my lady,” you apologized in a low tone. She suddenly looked at you and then looked at that lifeless doll.
“I always try to sew a suitable outfit for each of my little dolls, but with this one… With this one it's more difficult to choose,” she explained with a calm voice, looking at that doll from all possible angles. “I can't decide.”
“What are the options, my lady?” you asked, looking at a pile of fabrics that the lady had on the table.
“What you see,” she commented, crossing her arms. “Tell me what do you think.”
“Mm…” you murmured, taking each of the fabrics, looking at that empty doll to compare it with them. “I think gray would suit it well, my lady.”
“Gray…” she sighed, taking the fabric from your hands and comparing it to the doll's red lips. “Yes, it will do.”
“I hope I've helped you, my lady,” you said in a friendly manner. “Do you need anything else, my lady?”
“I'd like to ask you some personal questions, if you don't mind. I want to get to know you better,” she said, thus revealing the only reason for you to stay there.
You couldn't help but blush and bite your lip nervously as you nodded.
“Of course, my lady.”
“Do you like to read?” Donna asked, placing the fabric in the old sewing machine.
“Yes, my lady, I did,” you said, watching mesmerized as the lady sewed. Your heart was telling you strange things, too strange.
“It's funny, I haven't seen you pick up a single book in all the time you've been here. You can read the books you want, (Y/N),” she said, without taking her gaze off the cloth. “You don't have to ask for permission.”
“Oh, well, thanks, I…  I didn't want to do anything without you… Well, nothing that could bother you…” you said nervously, moving your hands erratically.
“I don't mind if you read,” she whispered, barely paying attention to you. “I'd rather you do it than become one of those brainless maids at the castle.”
“Brainless?” you asked curiously, giving the woman in black the objects she pointed at with her gaze, without your presence being bothersome to her, something that made you smile more and more.
“Mm,” Donna nodded, cutting the cloth. “Unlike my sister, I value intelligence over pretty breasts.”
“Oh, um…” you said, laughing nervously. She looked at you with a serious face, as if she was surprised by your shock.
“Did I say something funny?” the lady asked, annoyed by your nervousness.
“Well, yes, my lady,” you said among laughs. She looked at you with her eyebrow raised, shaking her head.
“Although I don't know if you're really that intelligence... You wanted to get out of here...” she murmured cockily, with a haughty smile on her face.
“I had nothing to keep me here for,” you murmured a little more seriously.
She stopped, sighing.
“I feel you,” Donna whispered with a weak, different voice, as if her mood had suddenly changed, something that didn't surprise you. “I was also as stupid as you, you know?”
“My lady?”
“Before Mother Miranda adopted me, I thought the same as you, why stay in this horrible place? I had no family, no friends... I was completely alone,” she explained without you asking for explanations. You listened interested. “But I understood one thing, (Y/N), if you run away from your problems, they will follow you wherever you go.”
“That's very wise, my lady,” you commented, nodding slightly, agreeing with her.
“Donna,” she said in a brusque tone. “I can't stand you calling me that, I have a name, you know?”
“D-Donna, I'm sorry...” you apologized in a low voice, blushing. “I just mean to be polite.”
The lady stopped again in her work, looking at you with a sincere, almost embarrassing smile. That smile would give you a lot of trouble tonight.
“You were right, gray is the right color, (Y/N), maybe I need your good taste more often.”
“Oh, of course my la, Donna, you can count on me,” you said with an elated tone, one that you tried to calm down.
“I have to admit that it was not a bad idea to you to be my maid,” she commented with a lower tone, looking away from you strangely. “I don’t regret it.”
“Thank you,” you sighed, resting your elbow on the table.
“What about you, (Y/N)? Do you regret being with me?” she asked with a different tone, a more somber, looking at you out of the corner of her eye.
“No, of course I don’t, Donna.”
“Mm,” she murmured, sighing and returning to that gray dress that was slowly taking shape. “You can go.”
Before leaving the workshop, you turned your gaze towards the lady in black, who did the same, with a serious expression, looking at you briefly without saying anything before turning her head again.
A strange sigh came from your lips. Your legs trembled as you exited the elevator. You couldn't, you didn't want to feel those things, you wouldn't allow your heart to be wrong for the joy of having a place to live to mixed with those feelings that you shouldn't feel.
“Hey, maid!”  Angie shouted, startling you as always, interrupting the rambling of your mind, of your feelings. “Come here!”
“What do you want, Angie?” you asked in a more casual tone, one that you knew the doll tolerated, maybe too much.
“I'm bored,” the puppet complained. “Come, play with me.”
“Play? Angie… It's five in the afternoon, I'd like to rest before making dinner,” you said in a tired tone, but walking inevitably towards the doll.
“Evil, boring maid!” she protested in her shrill voice. At least those shrieks blurred the thoughts about the lady in black.
“Oh… Okay…” you sighed defeated, putting a hand on your forehead. “We'll play, but just for a while, okay?”
A while, how naive.
Time passed while the doll and you played cards. It hurt you to admit it, but spending time with the doll was quite entertaining, even if she always, always cheated.
“21, I won again,” the satisfied doll said, taking all the buttons you used as currency.
“You're so lucky,” you commented amused, shuffling the cards again.
“I'm the luck,” the doll joked. “Hey, you're very funny, maid.”
“Oh, really? Is it funny to see me lose?” you asked ironically, shaking your head.
“Oh, yes, very much so, but… I'm actually serious,” Angie commented, dealing the cards with a comical gesture. You raised your eyebrows with a curious smile. “My Donna and I used to play… But lately she's being a boring fool.”
“Donna has a lot of things to do,” you commented, coming to the brunette's defense.
“Nonsense, she's boring, she never wants to play cards. She's always with those stupid dolls that are much less cool than me,” she said amused.
You couldn't help but laugh at those comments, but your laughter died down as soon as you looked up.
“She’s always: leave me alone, Angie, I don't want to play, Angie, I'm a boring fool who only wants to be with her dolls and…” the doll continued mockingly while you, amused, gestured with your head towards the lady in black, who listened to the doll's complaints in silence.
“Boring, huh?” the lady in black murmured, crossing her arms and causing an amused gesture from the doll.
“Oh, Donna, I hadn't seen you,” the puppet said, fleeing subtly. “I was talking about… Another Donna, an uglier and dumber Donna, not about you…”
“Donna, I…” you said getting up from the floor and shaking off your dress. “I'm sorry, I forgot dinner time and I...”
“No, stay,” she said, stopping you with an arm on your wrist. “I think you should know something,” she commented in an unsettling tone, bending down to the white veil of her doll and taking out a card from it.
“Hey!” Angie protested when her owner revealed her cheat.
“Hey, what a cheater,” you joked, frowning, but not really upset.
“If you're going to cheat, at least try not to do the same thing,” the lady in black commented, sighing and handing you that card. “Besides, who are you calling boring?”
“You, silly Donna,” Angie whispered, in a threatening tone.
The lady laughed unexpectedly, shaking her head and getting down on the floor, gesturing for you to sit next to her.
“Silly? We'll see about that... (Y/N), give me cards too,” she said amused, thus starting a different time, completely different.
“Good, good! Donna plays too!” the doll celebrated.
After that fun afternoon of games, things in the mansion changed completely. They weren't just whispers, just words of gratitude. Questions began to come out of her lips, doubts about your tastes, your concerns. Lady Beneviento had changed, and you didn't know why.
Talking to her was easier for you, just as it was easier for her to talk to you. It was an unexpected connection, two souls that seemed predestined to meet each other. Considering her a friend was too bold, but the feelings in your heart were worse.
It could be her beauty, her voice, her lavender scent, her smile… It could be many things, but what was certain was that you were attracted to her, a lot. At first it just seemed like a silly thing, a feeling of gratitude to the brunette. But, after months, after a long time exchanging smiles, thoughts, interesting conversations, you realized that it wasn't like that.
You were in love with her, hopelessly in love.
You thought about her all the time, even doing the most boring tasks. The smile that formed on your face when you imagined her beauty, her words, accompanied you day after day, even in something as boring as sweeping the old porch.
“Mmmm…” you hummed while you cleaned, with those thoughts always sailing through your head. The impossibility of the reciprocity of her feelings was still far from your mind, too far to start breaking your heart.
“Shhh. The maid's going to hear you…” a voice interrupted your delirium, a voice that seemed to come from the old path to the mansion and that you didn’t recognize.
You frowned to try to discover its origin but, after failing, you continued with your tasks. That place was certainly perfect for you to confuse sounds with sinister voices.
“Hey, you!” Angie's shrill voice interrupted that sinister calm.
The lady in black, covered with her black veil, holding the puppet in her arms, left the house in a hurry, walking away from you, as if she had seen something dangerous.
“Donna?” you asked without being heard, seeing, to your surprise, two boys coming out behind some bushes.
“I'm sorry, I'm sorry!” one of them said, backing away as the lady approached.
“We just had to come here due to a stupid bet!” the other said, walking backwards.
“Get out of my property!” Angie shrieked, in that dark voice. “Porca puttana! Get out, get out!”
“Yes, yes we're leaving now,” one of the boys muttered, running towards the elevator, terrified.
“I'm sorry, my lady!” the other yelled, disappearing into the darkness.
You watched in astonishment at that scene, how the lady in black growled furiously, approaching where you were again.
“You, haven't you noticed that they were watching you?” Donna told you, freeing herself from the veil with a furious gasp.
You opened your eyes wide and shook your head, confused.
“Um, no, I... I was just, I was just... Sweeping,” you commented, nervous due to Donna's abrupt attitude, one that had become more frequent for some time now.
 “Sweeping…” she muttered mockingly, breathing heavily and looking you up and down, suddenly grabbing your arm. “What is this? What are you wearing?”
“A, a dress…” you said, blinking nervously. “I asked the Duke for it the other day, don't you like it?”
“Mm yes, I like it…” she whispered, nodding, seemingly calmer. “Do you know who likes it too? That pair of vermin who ran away, (Y/N). They couldn't take their eyes off you.”
“Oh, really?” you asked amused, blushing at the idea of ​​looking attractive to another person, something you weren't used to.
“Do you find it amusing?” Donna asked, with a stern tone again. “Cazzo, cover yourself up!”
“Should I cover myself up? I…” you said confused, looking at your cleavage. “Oh, well, it's a bit provocative, isn't it?”
“A bit?” the lady questioned with a frown and a dark look. “I don't tolerate anyone looking at you like that, understand? If you're going outside, cover yourself up.”
“Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't know it bothered you,” you apologized, tying a button to be less… Provocative.
“It doesn't bother me as long as I can see you, understand? Only me,” she said nervously, playing with her hands.
“What do you mean?” you asked nervously at those words, ones she seemed to regret immediately.
“Ugh… Don't you have to sweep?”
You nodded with wide eyes.
“Then sweep, (Y/N),” she said, pulling you into the house. “But do it here, do you hear me? Where I can see you and…” she stammered, running away hastily, as if she had gotten into a mess of words. “Cazzo!”
“Well…” you sighed, scratching the back of your neck and looking at Angie. “What's wrong with her?”
“I don't know,” the puppet answered, leaving you with more questions than answers.
That attitude could seem like something isolated, but it wasn't. As time went by, those little meaningless outbursts began to be more frequent. It seemed like something in her head was telling her that she had to protect you, to keep you away from any danger, or at least that's how you saw it.
It seemed like a duality, an internal struggle with herself, a change of sad and dark looks, of smiles and threats that you couldn't understand, at least until that day.
The door rang, interrupting a quiet moment. Donna was reading and you next to her, in silence, exchanging the usual shy glances, ones that were always accompanied by a smile.
“I'm going,” you said, sighing, closing the book and walking towards the entrance. You weren't expecting the Duke, or anyone really, but still, you were the maid, although you seemed less and less like it.
“Hello... What do we have here?” a young woman, covered by a black cloak greeted you with a purr. You knew her, she was one of the three Dimitrescu sisters.
“Hello, Miss...”
“Daniela,” the girl said, interrupting your formal and elegant greeting. “Who are you?”
“Oh, I'm, (Y/N), Lady Beneviento's maid,” you explained with a fake smile.
You knew what they were capable of, but you didn't know she could leave the castle. Well, it was a nice day, the sun was shining, maybe that was why.
“Maid? Aunt Donna has a maid? What a surprise, she hadn't told us anything although... I understand why...” she whispered, looking you up and down uncomfortably, forcing you to step back.
“Well, here I am,” you said, faking another smile, without losing your composure. “Did you want something, Miss?”
“Oh, yes, I came because my mother had to pick something up...” the young vampire commented, entering the house as if it were hers. There, behind you, Donna was waiting for you, covered in her veil and in a nervous pose.
“Aunt Donna!” the girl exclaimed, putting her arm around the brunette, a gesture that Donna, of course, rejected. “Why didn't you tell me you had a maid?”
“It's none of your business, Daniela,” a nervous voice came out of the black veil as she pushed the fly girl away from her.
“Oh, please...” the young Dimitrescu joked.
“What do you want? I'm busy,” the lady in black asked, with an impatient tone. The girl smiled, winking at you.
“Of course you are...” Daniela mocked, circling you like a carrion bird. “I'm sure you're very busy...”
“What do you want?” Donna asked again, with a rougher tone, shaking every time the girl got too close to you.
“I've come for my mother's commission,” the vampire explained. “Although well... Surely if we put a bow on this beauty...”
“Don't touch her,” the lady said, roughly pushing the vampire, who laughed in amusement.
“Well, well... Calm down, Aunt Donna...” Daniela mocked. “Sharing is good manners...”
“Vaffanculo...” the brunette hissed, turning around to search for something in the drawers and hand it to the vampire roughly. “Your blanket, now get out.”
“Oh, why the rush? What's your name, sweetie?” Daniela asked, approaching you and putting her arms around your shoulders in the same way, with a sensual voice that made you shiver.
“(Y/N),” you said with a trembling voice. You could feel Donna's gaze staring into yours, and it wasn't a friendly one.
“(Y/N), how about we go for a walk? It's a beautiful day to enjoy good company...” the young Dimitrescu whispered.
You didn't even have time to answer.
Donna growled furiously, pushing the vampire out of the house.
“Hey, hey! Don't be selfish, Aunt Donna! Hey, at least let my mother…!” the girl protested, silenced by a loud slam of the door.
“Ugh, thanks, Donna, I was getting a bit nervous,” you sighed, with a relieved smile.
The lady in black turned around, furiously pushing the veil away from her face. There was anything but a smile in her face.
“Nervous, you say?” she asked in a dangerous whisper. “I didn't see you nervous.”
“Well, I…” you stammered. “I didn't really know how to act.”
“That's why you let that stupid girl touch you?” she asked, approaching you dangerously. She seemed out of her mind again, acting in a deranged way. “Hey, come here!” she shrieked, grabbing you by your dress when you decided that running away was the best solution to that strange behavior.
You, frightened by that look, tried to struggle with her, but you couldn't do it. With a growl, she pushed you against a wall, preventing you from running away.
“How long are you going to keep laughing at me?!” she asked, hitting the wall with a fist, making you shrink in fear, totally confused and scared.
“Donna… What are you talking about?” you asked with a trembling voice, with your eyes shining with terror.
“Don't play dumb… Cazzo… Are you interested in her?” she asked, pointing to the door. “Are you planning to flirt with all the girls and boys in this fucking village?”
“I don't know what you're talking about! I'm not interested in her, Donna,” you said in your defense, shaking your head. She laughed nervously, making the same gesture. “You're, you're very nervous… Calm down, please…”
“I don't want to!” she squealed, too close to you. “I've tried, I really have, (Y/N), but I can't, I can't stand it…”
“What are you talking about?” you asked in a small voice. “Donna, you're scaring me.”
“You’re scaring me, (Y/N)…” she hissed, with a dark look, putting a hand on your cheek, a shaky and warm hand. “Every night you appear in my dreams, I see you in the dark, in the light, even when you're not here… I see you…”
“Donna,” you sighed, seeing in those words something like a confession, one you didn't think possible.
“You… You're… You're mine… You're my maid… You can't leave me. I can't let anyone take you away from me…” Donna murmured, sobbing too, adding another hand to your face. “Don't you see how much I’m suffering for you?”
“Yours?” you asked confused.
“Yes… Mia!” she screamed furiously again. “No one has the right to touch you, not even look at you! You are mine, and only mine! I, I, I, I, I…”
“Donna…” you murmured again, ignoring the screams, keeping her words.
“I'm… I'm in love with you…” the doll maker finally confessed, making your eyes open in surprise and your words get stuck in your throat. “I don't care that you don't feel the same… You are mine and… No one… No one has the right to…”
Unable to do anything else, your body reacted in a desperate, risky way, bringing you closer to her lips, closing the distance with a messy kiss, one that would silence her complaints, her stupid paranoia.
 Yes, you were hers, but for a long time, and you knew it, you wanted it.
 “I'm yours…” you whispered on her lips, tasting the salty tear that ran down her cheek. Her breathing was still labored, but her screams stopped. “Donna, I'm in love with you too…”
“What?” she asked surprised, not being able to control the impulse to kiss you again, to pin you against the wall and run her hands through your hair. “But…”
“I don't want anyone else, I'm not interested in anyone else,” you said among increasingly wild kisses. “I love you, I love the wonderful woman who saved my life, your beautiful smile, you, Donna, only you, that wounded heart that reminds me so much of my own…”
“That… That's… Nice,” she said, with a calmer smile, with a subtle blush on her cheeks as she pushed the hair out of your face. “Do you feel that way about me?”
“Yes,” you said nodding, caressing the soft skin of her hands. “You don't have to be like that, darling... No one will take me away from you...”
“I'm like that because I love you, because I don't want to lose you,” Donna whispered, finally explaining that strange behavior, that latent possessiveness that was slowly becoming evident.
“You won't lose me, I promise,” you said lovingly, comforting the lady with your sincere words.
Donna smiled, but it only lasted a moment. Suddenly, her gaze darkened, pushing you back against the wall, filling your mouth with wild, out-of-control kisses. You couldn't do anything else but accept them, enjoy her lips on your skin, on your neck, feel her hot hands moving down your dress.
“It's not enough...” she whispered on your lips, her breathing as agitated as yours, running her nails down your legs, her gaze getting darker and darker, with a spark of lust shining in her eye. “You have to be mine, now…”
“Donna… What…?” you asked, when the onslaught of kisses resumed, when her body stuck to yours irremediably, when her hips began to dance with yours. You couldn’t complain, you didn’t want to.
The gasps came out of your mouth, your hands traveled over the black dress, caressing, scratching everything in your path. You couldn't and didn't want to refuse, not even when her slender fingers pulled at your underwear, when she lifted your leg and her gaze was locked on you again.
“I won't be able to bear you saying no to me, (Y/N),” the lady hissed in your ear, scratching your leg as she played with her dress, releasing her own arousal and rubbing it against your wet entrance, surprising you. “I disgust you…”
“No, no… I love the way you’re, I love your body…” you said immediately, starting to feel how her erection was getting closer to its destination as, in an improvised way, she entered you, stealing your innocence in an unexpected way. “Donna!”
“Taci…” she whispered, moving her hips abruptly, taking you wildly against the wall, without you being able or willing to do anything to stop it.
The pain only lasted an instant, the pleasure came soon after, a pleasure you had never dared to feel, the pleasure of seeing how your wet walls were conquered, how her shaft claimed you anxiously to the sound of hurried moans, just like her movements.
Clumsy kisses replaced the moans, those obscene sounds that echoed in the old hall. You were in paradise, right where you wanted, in her arms, with her inside of you, being part of her body, part of her, not wanting her to leave.
An unknown cramp tensed your body, forced you to scream, to hold on to the lady, to scratch her back, to lose control.
Well, it wasn't what you could define as something romantic but... When with an agonizing cry, her seed ran through your body, flooding it with a pleasurable heat, you didn't care at all.
“Mine… You are mine now…” Donna repeated over and over, pulling you down from the wall and kissing you erratically, pulling at your waist, at your shamefully wet body.
“Donna… I love you… I love you…”
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daydream-cement · 1 year ago
Text
In The Closet (NSFW)
Miranda Hilmarson x Reader
Miranda comes to visit you in the storage closet.
Second weekend in Smutember with @alexusonfire! The first week prompt is over the clothes!
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The door to the file room opened and closed quietly behind you, making you glance over your shoulder. Your eyes narrowed skeptically at your girlfriend who had entered who's smirk gracing her lips was as mischievous as ever.
“What are you doing all holed up back here?” Miranda inquired, approaching you from behind. Her height allowed her to glance over your shoulder to the case files stretched out before you.
“I ran out of things to do, so I am alphabetizing the files like they should be.” You huffed as you thought over all the work you had done in the past hour. The same work that had been caused by some of your coworkers inability to put things away properly.
Miranda chuckled softly at your snide remark, her arms wrapping around your waist. The physical contact only melted you a bit as the annoyance you had for your coworkers still was in the forefront of your mind. “You need to relax, honey…”
“I need to finish my work.” You retort, craning your neck back to shoot her a look.
Miranda only hummed, her hands drifting to your midsection to begin tugging your blouse fabric from where it was tucked into your pants.
“Mir…” You warn, shifting away before she suddenly pulled you back to her body.
“Relax…” Miranda cooed to trail her hand over your pubis to cup your sex over your work pants. She knew exactly where to press her fingers so as to stir desire within your abdomen. Back and forth she rubbed her hand over your mound causing you to whine involuntarily. At the sound of your soft noises, Miranda whispered in your ear, “There we go…”
“Mir… We can’t…”
“Shhh…” Miranda hushed you and drew her free hand to grope your breast over your shirt. You braced yourself against the open drawer and file cabinet, trying to spread your legs the best you could to give her greatest access.
You felt yourself growing wetter and wetter at the way Miranda groped you. It was so possessive and dominant - a trait typically reserved for the confines of your bedroom.
“We should probably make quick work of this, huh?” Miranda whispered, her hand moved from your breast to wrap around your waist. She drew you backwards and sat herself on a chair, spinning you around, and guiding you to straddle her thigh. Her hands gripped your hips and she guided you in rolling your hips back and forth to grind against her.
You fell apart in her lap. Your forehead dropped onto her shoulder as the most desperate whimpers left your body. You pressed your hips harder and harder against her thigh seeking as much friction as possible to stimulate your clit.
“Let go of all that stress, beautiful.” Miranda cooed in your ear, her face nuzzling into your neck to press kisses against your throat. Her tongue gliding over your pulse point made you shiver as it coincided with a particularly intense roll of your hips, making you gasp.
Miranda’s hands gripped at your ass, but she allowed you to control the rapid pace of your grinding as you chased your peak. She tightened the muscles in her thigh and pushed it up into your cunt. You were whining and softly crying out as you jerked your hips against her thigh.
“Come on, sweetness. Come for me.”
You felt yourself choke back a sob as you knew you were close, but grinding over your clothes was a hindrance to the possibility of an orgasm.
The grinding of your hips was furious. You needed this terribly, but the orgasm alluded you. “I’m- I’m t-trying.”
You could hear your male coworkers roughhousing in the hallway. It felt so wrong that their presence outside the room made the grinding against the constable feel even better. The thrill of being caught with your girlfriend had you biting your lip and slowing your grinding to make each roll of your hips worth it.
You were happy with your change of pace as each roll of your hips made your whole body shake. You grunted with each shutter of your body. You were getting so close. Just a little bit more.
“Come on, beautiful… I know you are close.”
The way Miranda’s voice was filled with desire pushed you over the edge. Your body jerked and trembled as your orgasm washed over you. To steady yourself, you wrapped your arms around her neck and held her tight.
Only if you could have seen the delighted smirk on Miranda’s face as her hands traveled up and fingers splayed across your back. She hugged you close, resting her chin on your shoulder. “That’s a good baby.”
You giggled softly and snuggled closer to enjoy a few more moments of physical contact before you would both have to return to work.
Miranda’s grip on you loosened and she leaned back in the chair so she could look at you. “I actually came in to ask if you wanted to get dinner delivered to the station.”
“Easily distracted, hm?”
“When you are involved? Yes.”
You had to roll your eyes at the corniness of her sweet statement and lifted yourself from her lap before anyone could walk in on you. You didn’t make it far from Miranda when she stood and took your hand, pulling you back to her. She put her hand on your cheek and wrapped the other around your waist to kiss you senseless.
When she finally let you go, you were dizzy from the intensity she kissed you with.
The dazed expression on your face made Miranda giggle and squeeze your shoulders. “I’ll order your favorite, okay?”
You gaped and nodded, eyes soft as you looked up at your sweet girlfriend. Every day you couldn’t think you could love her more, but every day she proved you wrong.
Taglist: @charymobile , @bri-sonat , @weemswife , @smutuniversesblog , @opheliauniverse , @renravens , @whenyouhaveanobsession , @shyladyfan , @rubberduckiesbathing , @mcufanisme , @peanutbutterprincess , @larissaoftarthweems , @lvinhs , @myzzjolanda , @principal-weems09 , @imlike-so-gaydude , @emilynissangtr , @xuukoo , @brienneswife , @oculusalien , @sweetderacine , @giogwensversion , @milciak , @gela123 , @thevillagegay , @katiemcgrathsbitch1 , @naomi-m3ndez , @mysaviorfalsegod , @salems-spaghettios , @imgayforwoman69 , @bychrissi , @bitchr-mkay , @h-doodles , @alexusonfire , @weemssapphic
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shelbgrey · 2 years ago
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Baby on the brain(Derek Shepherd)
Request: @emalynvtgtgfhvgg can you do a Derek Shepherd x YN? Where she’s at work and throws up Bailey runs a test and she’s pregnant plssssss
Paring: Derek Shepherd x reader x Miranda Bailey
Greys MasterList
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“we could get Ben to cook some steaks on the grill” I said scrubbing my hands with Bailey next to me. The two of us were trying to plan a get-together with Ben and Derek.
“we could do that, but I think we should pick the movie this time” Bailey said shaking her head. I chuckled remembering the last time we had a movie night and Ben bright the movie Annabelle, me nor Bailey had a fun night. We spent half the night hiding in our husbands arm.
Alex came in next and started to scrub his hands. “What are we talking about?” he asked genuinely curious. I looked over to my best friend and smiled as I tide my checkered scrub cap on my head.
“talking about Ben and Derek terrorizing us with Annabelle”
“mosty we're planning a date... Not that's any of your business” Bailey scoffed but gave him a smile so he knew she was joking. Alex chuckled as he continued to scrub in.
As the two continued to talk I felt my stomach start to turn and the smell of the water running made me sick. I sighed and gripped the edges of the scrubbing sink.
“N/n? You okay?” Bailey placed her hand on my shoulder a rubbed it.
“y/n?” Alex asked.
“I think I'm gonna Hurl” I mumbled holding my hand near my mouth while also trying to steady my breathing. “Yep, definitely gonna hurl”
I sprinted out of the scrubbing room and into the closet bathroom. I ran through the bathroom door and ripped the biggest stall open making it fly backwards and banging up against the one next door.
The noise stung my ears but I was glad it was masking the nauseating sounds of me emptying my sorry excuse of a stomach.
“you wait here” I hear a muffled Bailey tell Alex.
“Y/n are you okay?” Bailey asked from behind as she held my hair back. I let out a breath and rested my damp forehead on my arm. I let out a cough as Bailey backed up so a could set down away from the toilet. I pressed my back up against the cold metal stall as she rubbed my back.
“I'm okay, I'm okay” I whispered as I pulled my scrub cap off my head. Bailey's brown eyes stared at me with concern. She then looked at me up and down as the gears in her head turned.
“what?” I asked.
“could you be pregnant?” she asked. I staired at her for a brief second then burst out laughing which made Alex knock.
“everything okay in there?” he yelled from the other side of the door. We ignored him and Bailey studied my expression with shock and confusion.
“I can't get pregnant” I mumbled. Bailey wrinkled her eye browse with a sad experience. “who said you can't get pregnant?”
I sighed as stood up from the cold floor then hopped onto the counter that was next to the sink. “I was about 16 when they said I couldn't get pregnant...”
Bailey crossed her arms and gave my a look with nothing but sympathy. “dose Derek know?”
I nodded sadly. “we still talk about building a family. We want kids... I think we talk about it a lot to cope with it all”
Bailey sighed but had a spark in her eyes that held nothing but hope. “ya know... Your showing sings, your nauseous, your brests are bigger... Your moody... More than usual. When was your last cycle?”
I looked up and counted the days. The more I counted and did the math, the faster my heart fluttered. I hadn't had my period this month but I thought it was due to stress. I looked at Bailey and covered my mouth.
“I can't be” Bailey smiled and shrugged. “only one way to find out”
Bailey walked over the entrance of the bathroom and opened the door. Alex tumbled forward but cought himself on the door frame. I giggled as Bailey shot him a scowl.
“Karev go get a pregnancy test” Bailey told him. His eyes bugged out then he looked over to me with a big smile.
“Pronto Karev, and don't let anyone see ya either!” Bailey said. Alex quickly dashed out of the bathroom and went on his mission. He came back ten minutes late and handed me a cup.
“okay pee in this” he said handing me the cup. I wasn't phased by his choice of words but Bailey rolled her eyes. “classy Karev, real classy”
Did my business and handed the cup to Alex with the cap on. He held it with a digusted expression. I honestly don't blame him, dispite us being as close as siblings I wouldn't want to hold a cup of his pee.
“I think we're waisting our time” I sighed.
Alex shrugged. “I don't know, it looks like pregnancy pee to me”
Me and Bailey scoffed. “Karev get it the lab!” Bailey said pointing to the door. Alex busted out laughing and left the bathroom.
~~~~~~~~(.......)~~~~~~~~
“Hey, beautiful” Derek smiled coming up to me in the hallway. I smiled as he put his arm on my shoulder. “hey”
I dropped off my patients chart at the nurse's station then filled out a form to release a patient that was on mine and Owen's service. Derek was leaning on the nurse's station telling me about his surgery when Bailey came up to us with a big smile.
“I need to talk to you” she said pointing to me then turn to Derek. “both of you... If you want” she said looking at me.
I crossed my arms and looked at her trying to put the pieces together on her mood. “depends”
She smiled at me and nodded. I unfold my arms in disbelief. “really?” I smiled as Derek looked between us confused.
She nodded and hugged me. “Wait what are you two up to?” Derek asked. Bailey smiled and told us to come to the Attendings' room.
Once we we're alone a spilled the good news. “I'm pregnant” Derek didn't skip a beat and immediately wrapped his arms around me as nothing but pure happiness plastered on his face.
“I'm so happy” he said burying his face in my neck as happy tears pricked his eyes.
“congrats mama Shepherd” Bailey smiled as I left Derek's arms and hugged her tight. “your the God mother ya known” she smiled proudly and nodded.
“I'm so happy for you guys” she said hugging Derek.
“me too” I said smiling at Derek.
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horeformilfs · 8 months ago
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Searching for Home
Dimitrescu Family x Gender Neutral Autistic Reader
TW: Bullying, Mention of Parental Death
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As the sun dipped behind the towering peaks of the Carpathian Mountains, casting a golden glow over the quaint village below, Y/N trudged out of the orphanage gates, shoulders hunched against the biting chill of the evening air. For seven long years, they had called this place home, but it had never felt like home. The laughter of other children echoed in the distance, a cruel reminder of their own solitude.
Y/N's steps faltered as a sudden cacophony of noise erupted around them. Startled, they instinctively covered their ears, heart pounding erratically in their chest. The world seemed to spin, the sounds blending into a nightmarish symphony of chaos. The older kids, faces twisted with malice, stood nearby, wielding an array of makeshift instruments to amplify the din.
"Look at the freak! Can't even handle a little noise," one of them jeered, his voice laced with cruelty.
Y/N's breaths came in short, ragged gasps as panic seized them, every nerve on edge. Desperate, they stumbled backward, eyes wide with fear, seeking escape from the overwhelming onslaught of sensory input.
"Leave me alone!" they cried, voice raw with emotion, but their words were lost amidst the clamor.
With a strangled sob, Y/N turned and fled, feet pounding against the cobblestones, tears blurring their vision. 
The village blurred past in a blur of colors and shapes, each alleyway a potential dead end. But Y/N pressed on, driven by a primal instinct to flee, to outrun the demons nipping at their heels.
Finally, as their legs threatened to give out beneath them, they stumbled upon the village church, its weathered stones looming like a beacon of refuge amidst the chaos. With one last burst of energy, they pushed open the heavy wooden door and stumbled inside, heart pounding in their chest.
As Y/N cowered behind the heavy wooden door of the village church, their heart still racing from the chase, they felt a sense of fleeting safety wash over them. The sounds of their pursuers grew fainter as they rounded a corner, their frantic footsteps fading into the distance.
Breathing heavily, Y/N pressed their back against the door, eyes darting around the dimly lit interior of the church. Shadows danced across the walls, casting eerie shapes upon the worn stone floor. With trembling hands, they reached out to steady themselves, fingertips grazing the rough surface of the doorframe.
Frantically, they scanned the room for any sign of movement, any indication that they were not alone. But save for the faint flicker of candlelight and the soft rustle of fabric, the church remained eerily silent.
Their gaze came to rest upon a faded photograph hanging on the wall, illuminated by the dim glow of the candles. It depicted a stern-faced woman, her eyes fixed in an unwavering gaze, her presence looming over the room like a silent sentinel. Mother Miranda, the villagers whispered, a figure of reverence and fear in equal measure.
Though Y/N had never been one for religion, in this moment of desperation, they found themselves drawn to the image before them. With a shaky breath, they bowed their head and clasped their hands together, fingers intertwining in silent supplication.
"Mother Miranda," they whispered, the words feeling foreign upon their lips. "Please... please help me. I don't want to go back there. I just want to be safe."
Closing their eyes, Y/N rocked back and forth, a soothing rhythm born from years of seeking solace in moments of overwhelming sensory input. They pressed their palms against their ears, willing the world to fade away, to grant them respite from the tumultuous storm raging within.
Unbeknownst to them, in the shadowed recesses of the church, a figure stirred. Mother Miranda herself, her presence as silent as a whisper, watched from the darkness, her gaze softening as she beheld the child huddled before her.
As Y/N's eyes widened in shock at the sight of Mother Miranda approaching, a wave of fear and uncertainty washed over them. Their instincts screamed at them to flee, to put as much distance between themselves and this enigmatic figure as possible. But as they pressed back against the solid wooden door, they found themselves trapped, with nowhere to run.
Miranda, sensing their distress, moved forward with slow, deliberate steps, her expression gentle yet unreadable beneath the mask that obscured her features. But as she drew nearer, Y/N's panic only intensified, their heart pounding in their chest like a trapped bird.
"Please, stay back," they whispered, voice trembling with fear, as they instinctively tried to shrink away from her looming presence.
Miranda paused, her keen gaze softened with understanding. She could sense the fear radiating from the child before her, could see the tension in their trembling form. With a silent nod, she halted her approach, giving them the space they so desperately sought.
But Miranda knew that mere words would not be enough to quell their fear, not when faced with the unknown. And so, with deliberate care, she reached up and began to unfasten the mask that obscured her face, revealing the woman beneath.
Y/N's eyes widened in surprise as the mask fell away, revealing features softened by compassion and empathy. It was unheard of for Mother Miranda to show such vulnerability, to strip away the veil of mystery that shrouded her every action. And yet, here she was, kneeling before them with a tenderness that took their breath away.
Tears welled in Y/N's eyes as Miranda brushed a gentle hand against their cheek, her touch as light as a feather. But as they flinched away, overcome by a lifetime of mistrust and uncertainty, Miranda's heart ached for the pain that lay hidden within.
"It's alright, child," she murmured, her voice a soothing balm against their frayed nerves. "You're safe now. Tell me, what has happened? How can I help you?"
Y/N hesitated, their gaze flickering away as they struggled to put their feelings into words. But Miranda was patient, her presence a comforting anchor in the storm of their emotions. And as they finally found the courage to speak, halting and hesitant though it may be, she listened with an open heart, ready to offer whatever solace they sought.
As Y/N poured out their heart to Miranda, recounting the cruel prank and the years of loneliness and ridicule they had endured, Miranda listened with a compassion that spoke volumes. Her eyes softened with empathy, mirroring the pain reflected in Y/N's own gaze.
"I'm so sorry you had to go through that, my child," Miranda said softly, her voice carrying a weight of understanding. "No one should ever have to feel so alone."
When Y/N mentioned their parents, Miranda's expression shifted, a flicker of sorrow crossing her features. "I'm deeply sorry for your loss," she murmured, her voice laced with genuine sympathy. "Lycan attacks can be devastating. Your strength in facing such tragedy is admirable."
As Y/N hesitated at Miranda's offer of a hug, Miranda respected their boundaries with a gentle nod. "Only if you feel comfortable, my dear," she assured them, her tone warm and reassuring.
With cautious acceptance, Y/N leaned into Miranda's embrace, feeling the comforting warmth of her presence envelop them like a protective cloak. Miranda's touch was gentle, her movements slow and deliberate, as she wrapped her arms around them in a gesture of comfort and reassurance.
As Miranda stroked their hair with tender affection, Y/N felt a sense of peace wash over them, a fleeting moment of solace amidst the chaos of their world. And as they pulled away from the hug, a hesitant smile tugging at their lips, they found themselves trusting this woman in a way they never thought possible.
With a soft rustle of fabric, Miranda replaced her mask, the enigmatic facade once again in place. "Come, child," she said, her voice gentle yet commanding. "I have a place where you will be safe."
As they walked together in companionable silence towards Castle Dimitrescu, Y/N couldn't help but notice the grandeur of their surroundings, the imposing walls of the castle looming overhead like silent sentinels. But though questions tugged at their mind, they remained unspoken, for now content to follow Miranda's lead.
Entering the castle, they were met by a maid, whose eyes widened in surprise at the sight of Miranda. "Are you here to speak with Lady Dimitrescu, ma'am?" she asked, her voice deferential.
Miranda nodded, her gaze unwavering. "Yes, please inform her of our arrival," she replied, her tone leaving no room for argument.
As the maid scurried off to relay the message, Y/N glanced up at Miranda, curiosity and uncertainty warring within them. "Where are we going?" they ventured to ask, their voice barely above a whisper.
Miranda's smile was gentle, her eyes filled with a promise of sanctuary. "You'll see, my dear," she replied cryptically, her hand resting reassuringly on Y/N's shoulder as they ventured deeper into the heart of the castle.
As Miranda led Y/N to the second floor of the castle, their heart hammered in their chest with each echoing step. The air felt charged with anticipation as Miranda knocked on a door, the sound reverberating through the quiet corridor. A muffled voice answered from within, and Miranda pushed the door open, ushering Y/N into the room.
Inside, a woman adorned in a cream-colored dress, a striking black hat perched upon her head, and leather gloves adorning her hands, turned to greet them. It was Lady Dimitrescu herself, her presence commanding attention as she rose from her seat, towering over them with an imposing stature that sent a shiver down Y/N's spine.
Y/N's eyes widened in awe and trepidation as they beheld the formidable figure before them. They instinctively took a step back, their breath catching in their throat, but Miranda's reassuring presence at their side anchored them in the moment.
"It's alright, my dear," Miranda murmured, her voice a soothing balm against the rising tide of fear. "Lady Dimitrescu won't harm you. She just wants to talk."
Slowly, Lady Dimitrescu approached, her movements deliberate and measured as she knelt down before Y/N, her gaze gentle yet penetrating. "What is your name, child?" she asked, her voice carrying a warmth that belied her intimidating exterior.
Y/N's gaze dropped to the floor, their fingers twisting nervously in the fabric of their shirt. They mumbled a response, barely audible above the rush of their own heartbeat.
Miranda interjected, her voice calm yet firm. "Their name is Y/N," she said, her eyes meeting Lady Dimitrescu's with a silent understanding. "I would like to speak with you privately for a moment, if you don't mind."
Lady Dimitrescu nodded, her gaze lingering on Y/N for a moment longer before turning to Miranda. "Of course," she replied, her tone betraying none of the curiosity that flickered in her eyes. "We can speak in the study."
As Y/N waited alone in the room, a strange buzzing sound began to fill the air, growing louder with each passing moment. Their heart raced with apprehension as they turned towards the source of the noise, eyes widening in surprise as three figures materialized before them.
The first, with flowing blonde hair and piercing yellow eyes, stepped forward, her presence exuding an air of confidence and elegance. "Well, well, what do we have here?" she purred, her voice smooth as silk as she regarded Y/N with a curious gaze.
Y/N's breath caught in their throat as they tried to find their voice, the weight of the three women's scrutiny bearing down upon them. With a shaky breath, they managed to whisper their name, barely audible above the hum of uncertainty that filled the room.
The blonde woman smiled, a predatory gleam dancing in her eyes. "Ah, a visitor," she mused, her tone laced with amusement. "Well, little one, allow me to introduce myself. I am Bela."
As she spoke, Y/N took in her features, noting the drained mascara that framed her eyes, the bloodstains that adorned her lips like a twisted smile. Despite her ethereal beauty, there was something undeniably unsettling about her presence.
Beside her stood two other women, each bearing a striking resemblance to Bela in both appearance and demeanor. Daniela, with her fiery red hair and intense gaze, and Cassandra, with her dark locks and stoic expression, completed the trio, their presence looming over Y/N like silent guardians.
Together, they formed a formidable trio, their allegiance to House Dimitrescu evident in the flower tattoos that adorned their foreheads. And as they regarded Y/N with a mixture of curiosity and intrigue, the air crackled with an unspoken tension, a silent invitation into the mysterious world of Castle Dimitrescu.
As the conversation flowed between them, Bela and Daniela peppered Y/N with questions, their curiosity piqued by the presence of this newcomer in their midst. Cassandra, however, remained aloof, her gaze flickering between her sisters and Y/N, uncertainty etched upon her features.
As the evening wore on, Y/N's exhaustion became palpable, their eyelids growing heavy with weariness. Sensing their fatigue, Bela gently inquired about Miranda and her mother's departure, her voice tinged with concern.
Y/N blinked owlishly, trying to recall the details of their departure. "I'm not sure," they admitted softly, their gaze wandering around the room until it landed on a clock hanging on the wall, its hands pointing to the late hour of 10 pm.
With a sigh, Bela guided Y/N to the couch, settling them between herself and Daniela. Daniela, ever the nurturing sister, retrieved a book and began to read aloud, the sound of her voice a soothing lullaby that washed over Y/N like a gentle breeze.
As the words of the story wove a tapestry of dreams, Y/N's eyelids drooped lower and lower, until at last, they succumbed to the embrace of sleep. Their head lolled to the side, coming to rest against Bela's shoulder, and she adjusted their position with a gentle touch, ensuring their comfort as she stroked their hair with tender affection.
Across the room, Cassandra watched silently, her expression unreadable as she observed the scene before her. But beneath her stoic facade, a flicker of something akin to warmth stirred within her, a newfound curiosity kindled by the presence of this enigmatic stranger in their home.
As Bela and Daniela exchanged whispers, their voices hushed with a mixture of curiosity and concern, Cassandra remained silent, her thoughts swirling like shadows in the depths of her mind.
"Did you notice anything strange about them?" Cassandra interjected suddenly, her voice cutting through the quiet of the room like a sharp blade.
Bela and Daniela exchanged glances, their brows furrowing in contemplation. "Not particularly," Bela replied, her tone thoughtful. "Why, did you?"
Cassandra nodded, her expression grave. "There were a few things," she admitted, her voice tinged with uncertainty. "They seemed... different somehow."
Bela's brow furrowed in concern. "Different how?" she pressed, her gaze searching Cassandra's face for answers.
Cassandra hesitated, her words carefully measured as she recounted her observations. "They had intense interests in specific topics, and their speech lacked inflection," she began, ticking off the points on her fingers. "They also displayed signs of anxiety, fidgeting, sensitivity to light and noise, and various tics and stimming behaviors."
Bela's eyes widened in realization, her thoughts racing as she considered Cassandra's words. "Do you think... they might be autistic?" she ventured, her voice soft with uncertainty.
Cassandra shrugged, her expression unreadable. "It's possible," she conceded, her tone cautious. "Perhaps we can ask them about it when they wake up."
Just then, the door opened, and Miranda and Alcina returned, their presence filling the room with a sense of calm authority. Miranda's gaze softened as she beheld Y/N asleep against Bela, a faint smile tugging at the corners of her lips.
Bela turned to Alcina, her brow furrowed with concern. "What's going to happen now?" she asked, her voice tinged with apprehension.
Alcina's expression softened as she regarded her daughters. "If Y/N decides to stay, they will be welcomed into our home," she explained gently. "But if not... well, we'll deal with that when the time comes."
Bela nodded in understanding, her thoughts racing with the weight of the decision that lay ahead. As she gently roused Y/N from their slumber, their eyes fluttered open, confusion etched upon their features as they took in the sight of Miranda and Lady Dimitrescu standing before them.
Miranda's voice was gentle as she explained the situation, giving Y/N time to process the offer that lay before them. And as they took a moment to consider their options, Alcina posed the question that hung heavy in the air.
"Would you like to stay with us, Y/N?" she asked, her tone soft with genuine concern.
After a moment of contemplation, Y/N met Alcina's gaze with a determined nod. "Yes," they replied, their voice steady with newfound resolve. "I would like that."
As Miranda reassured Y/N of their safety and well-being, a sense of relief washed over them, tempered by a lingering hint of hesitation. But as Miranda made to leave, Y/N's eyes betrayed a flicker of uncertainty, a silent plea for reassurance.
"Remember, my dear, you are in good hands," Miranda said, her voice soft with genuine care. "I will return in a few days to check up on you, and I'll come by weekly to see how you're adjusting."
Y/N nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of their lips. "Thank you, Miranda," they murmured, their gratitude evident in every word.
With a nod of acknowledgment, Miranda took her leave, her departure leaving an echo of quietude in her wake. Alcina stepped forward, her presence a comforting anchor in the sea of uncertainty.
"Come, Y/N," she said gently, her voice warm with reassurance. "Let me show you to your room."
But before they could move, Cassandra interjected, her voice filled with a quiet determination. "Mother, I have a question for Y/N," she said, her gaze fixed on her mother's face.
Y/N's heart skipped a beat at the prospect of yet another interrogation, their anxiety bubbling to the surface like a turbulent storm. But Daniela was quick to offer a reassuring smile, her voice a soothing balm against the rising tide of panic.
"Don't worry, little one," she said, her tone gentle yet firm. "It's nothing bad, I promise."
With a hesitant nod, Y/N braced themselves for whatever question lay ahead, their mind a whirlwind of uncertainty and apprehension. 
As Cassandra posed her question, a heavy silence descended upon the room, broken only by the sound of Y/N's quickening breaths. Their muscles tensed, every nerve on edge as they grappled with the weight of their answer.
Cassandra's gaze was steady, her expression a mix of curiosity and concern as she awaited Y/N's response. "Are you autistic?" she asked, her voice gentle yet direct.
"Yes," they whispered, their voice barely above a whisper, but it echoed loudly in the quiet of the room. "Yes, I am."
Instantly, a torrent of nervous energy flooded through them, their words tumbling out in a rush of panicked apology. "But if that's a problem, I can leave, I'll find somewhere else to stay, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to cause any trouble, I-"
But before they could spiral further into self-doubt, Alcina moved with a grace born of years of experience, kneeling before them and gently lifting their chin with a touch as light as a feather. She smiled reassuringly, her eyes warm with understanding.
"Shh, child, it's alright," she murmured, her voice a soothing melody that calmed the storm raging within Y/N's mind. "Just breathe."
As Y/N's frantic apologies subsided, Alcina listened patiently, her daughters and Cassandra gathered around in a circle of support. And as Y/N poured out their fears and insecurities, recounting the hurtful reactions of others in the past, Alcina's heart ached with a newfound understanding.
"You are not most people," she said firmly, her voice filled with conviction. "You are here with us now, and we are here for you. Your identity is not a problem; it is a part of who you are, and we accept you for it."
Moved by her words, Bela and Daniela stepped forward, their arms open in a silent invitation. "Are you okay with a hug?" Bela asked softly, her eyes filled with empathy.
Y/N nodded, a small smile tugging at their lips as they leaned into the embrace, feeling the warmth and acceptance of their newfound family enveloping them like a comforting embrace. And as they stood there, held in the embrace of those who now stood by their side, they knew, in that moment, that they were home.
With Y/N enveloped in the warmth of their embrace, Bela and Daniela exchanged glances, their expressions soft with empathy. Cassandra approached cautiously, her movements tentative as she joined the circle, her gaze meeting Y/N's with a newfound sense of understanding.
"Thank you," Y/N whispered, their voice tinged with gratitude as they leaned into the comforting embrace of their newfound family.
Bela's smile was gentle as she tightened her hold, a silent reassurance that they were welcome here, just as they were. "You're part of our family now," she murmured, her words echoing the sentiment shared by all.
As the embrace lingered, Alcina's gaze swept over her daughters and Y/N, her heart swelling with a sense of belonging that she hadn't felt in years. "Let us show you to your room," she said, her voice warm with affection.
Together, they moved as one, a united front against the uncertainties of the world beyond. And as they ventured down the halls of Castle Dimitrescu, Y/N felt a sense of peace settle over them, a quiet reassurance that they had found their place in this enigmatic world.
As they reached the threshold of Y/N's new room, Alcina turned to them with a smile, her eyes soft with motherly affection. "Welcome home," she said, her voice a gentle promise of the love and acceptance that awaited them within these walls.
As Y/N took in the sight of their new room, a sense of wonder filled their heart. The soft glow of candlelight danced across the walls, casting shadows that seemed to whisper tales of centuries past. It was a room filled with history and mystery, a sanctuary amidst the chaos of the world beyond.
As they turned to thank their newfound family, they found themselves alone in the quiet of the room with only Alcina present. The echoes of their footsteps mingled with the hushed whispers of the night, a symphony of solitude that enveloped them like a comforting embrace.
Just as they were about to settle into their new surroundings, Alcina's voice broke the silence, her presence a comforting presence in the dimly lit room. "My room is right down the hall, dear," she said softly, her words carrying a sense of warmth and reassurance. "If you need anything, don't hesitate to ask."
With a grateful nod, Y/N watched as Alcina approached, her movements graceful and deliberate. Cupping Y/N's cheek gently in her hand, Alcina leaned down to press a tender kiss to their forehead, a silent promise of protection and affection.
"Goodnight, my child," Alcina murmured, her voice a soothing melody that echoed in the stillness of the night. "Sleep well."
With a smile tugging at their lips, Y/N settled into their new bed, their heart filled with gratitude for the family that had welcomed them with open arms. And as they drifted off to sleep, surrounded by the warmth and love of their new home, they knew, in that moment, that they were finally where they belonged. 
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royalreef · 4 months ago
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Miranda flops her head backwards, quite literally. She simply continues tilting herself back, pointing her head more and more towards the ceiling and continuing backwards, that she can look back behind herself at Liam. The action makes her neck tilt a little to one side or the other as she tries to go further, tries to get an even clearer shot at Liam, but she hardly even needs to try. Over the brilliant pink of her eyebrow ridges, Liam would be able to perfectly see her eyes, sharp turquoise interrupted by widened pupils begging Liam for mercy.
She whines, loud and soft and filling the same space previously occupied by her pawing at the door. Somehow, she always forgets Liam can do that. No matter, regardless. She wanted to paw at the door like a cat denied entrance into someone else's bedroom, and so she did, and she looked even more like a housepet in the process.
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"Lestat!" This is not a where. However, Miranda considers it close enough. If Liam can narrow down to which other Lioncourt it was, then surely the where became the smaller issue, and she didn't think he would have any issues tracking him down regardless. "The other 'de Lioncourt'! Your name double! He is doing odd things again and being noisy about it!! And I do not care for it in the least!!"
there was another lioncourt?
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that was not news liam liked to hear, as the voice cried out ( a voice he definitely recognised, however could ne not? ) that it was being weird. that was another thing liam didn't like to hear, even if at first, he was making the assumption dimitri had reared his head again. 
could he even be considered a lioncourt? dimitri did consider their relationship akin to father and son?  gah liam didn't want to think of that right now, as he practically appeared next to miranda, arms crossed over his chest and a right scowl on his face. 
" where. " 
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apollolewis · 1 year ago
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The only ship in Shonen that I’m actively a cheerleader for is Noise Marie and Miranda Lotto. These two are the best couple in any manga I’ve ever read and they’re just supporting characters that don’t even appear together that often.
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If you have any art of these two please send them to me.
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royalreef · 1 year ago
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@spkyscry inquired: The disturbance has, on cue, summoned Vera forth from her paperwork to scoop her wife up in cuddles. She must ensure that the cuddle and kissy taxes are paid, since nobody else is going to do it.
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Up she goes! The length of her body means that the action is, indeed, mostly a scooping one, having to provide some support to her latter half as much as her front. There's a degree to which she needs to be folded, the action done sideways, bringing her hip to rest approximately near Vera's and for her head to end up somewhere near the other. With the amount of length that she has, still most of her is left off to the sides, unsupported, unbalanced, and more still has to be woven between the spaces of those two points — but her arms are tucked up against Vera's side, her ribs and hips supported, and she's all too happy to be smooshed up against her wife, purring as loud as she can.
Which, given Miri, might as well be an engine snuggled up against her darling, instead of an oversized marine predator.
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cameronspecial · 6 months ago
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can you write something with drew x singer reader?
My Muse
Pairing: Drew Starkey x Reader
Warnings: N/A
Pronouns: She/Her
Word Count: 0.5K
A/N: The song Y/N sings is an altered version of "Pointless" by Lewis Capaldi
Masterlist
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The studio is quiet as she taps the pencil on her lips. Y/N has been trying to figure out the lyrics for her next song for the past three hours, yet nothing comes to mind. Her back is pressed on the seat cushion and her legs are thrown on the armrest. “Ughh,” she groans, throwing her head back to look at the ceiling. The silence makes her second guess asking everyone in the room to leave. Maybe the noise would’ve gotten the flow going. 
The door to the studio opens and her head whips to see who it is. “Hey, Miranda told me you were experiencing some musician’s block. So I came with some pastries and smoothies. Get some brain fuel into that creative noggin of yours,” the intruder informs. She laughs at his words, “You are so weird, Baby.” He walks closer to her and she sits up. He places the food on the table, leaning down to kiss her. His face hovers over hers, “And yet, you still love me. Face it, Darling. You are head over heels for Mr. Drew Starkey.” She shakes her head and pulls him to sit on the couch with her. Her head falls on his chest as she snuggles into his side. He leans forward to grab some food and he hands it over to her. She takes a bite from the pain au chocolat, chasing it down with the strawberry and banana smoothie. They eat in comfortable silence until everything is gone. He dusts the crumbs off his hands and stands to stretch his legs. This leads him to wander around the room. He spots the piano and approaches it.
“What are you doing?” Y/N questions, joining him on the piano bench. Drew lifts the lid and places his hand on the ivory keys. Her head rests on his shoulder and she watches as he begins dancing his digits across them. Suddenly, the melody he plays randomly sparks something within her. She scrambles off the bench and runs to the notebook in her hand. Drew pauses to look at her, “What’s wrong?” She returns to sit beside him. “Keep going.” He follows her order and out of the corner of his eye, he can see she is writing down the notes he is playing.
Then, she moves on to writing down words. He keeps playing while she frantically notes down everything going through her mind until she tells him to stop. “Okay, close your eyes. I’m going to play you what I have so far,” she orders. She places her notebook on the ledge and Drew’s eyes flutter shut. 
Her fingers touch the keys, hitting one note after the other. Her eyes close as she begins to sing. “I bring him coffee in the morning. He brings me inner peace. I take him out to fancy restaurants. He takes the sadness out of me. I make him cards on his birthday. He makes me a better man. I take him water when he’s thirsty. He takes me as I am…” They both get lost in the music. As she plays off the final melody, her eyes open and she turns to him. “It’s a little rough, but what do you think?” He looks at her with a grin, cupping her face. Their lips meet. “That was amazing, Darling. It looks like you got over your musician’s block.” Her expression matches his and she presses her forehead against his. “Well, I got my muse to thank for that.” 
Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming @magicalyoura @rubixgsworld
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not-neverland06 · 6 months ago
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If requests are still open, how about headcanons of Heisenberg with a reader that is a fifth lord. Reader's Cadou allows them to manipulate sound (radio) waves, and go as far as sonic scream. No pressure or rush, just curious on your interpretation :)
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Karl Heisenberg x GN!reader A/N: This is only the second time I’ve done HC’s and I’m still struggling to get a grasp on them. Thank you for the request, your prompt was interesting to think about. This is a little short, so if I didn’t give you what you wanted let me know and I’ll try again.
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He really doesn’t give a shit about you at first
Unless you go out of your way to catch his attention he’s treating you the same as he treats the rest of the family
Whatever your powers are, he’s gonna assume you’re just as bad as the rest of them and dismiss you
You have to actively make him notice you
It wouldn’t take a lot, maybe one snide comment towards Mother Miranda and suddenly you have value
“You’ve got to be kidding me?” You scoffed, glaring down at the horde of Miranda’s worshippers that had surrounded the old church. You’d just been passing through town, picking something up from the duke before heading back up the mountain. 
Heisenberg happened to be there at the same time. You weren’t sure what his deal with the Duke was but it seemed to be complicated. His head perked up as you glared at the villagers. “What’s your problem?” He muttered, tone bitter. 
You nodded towards the villagers, “They are. All their Mother Miranda bullshit, I’m sick of it.” You walked back towards your lair, the old radio tower up in the mountain. It was the best place for you to be with the way your powers functioned, your strongest point. 
He watched as you went, staring at you contemplatively and wondering how he’d missed that hatred in your eyes. 
When he and Alcina start to argue, Miranda will just look at you and you’ll let out a scream so loud bits of drywall fall from the ceiling
It’s painful but it’s effective, you’re essentially used as a mute button when things get out of hand
You tend to avoid the others, keeping quiet and to yourself
When Miranda had first experimented on you, your experience with the sound waves had been less than pleasant
Learning to control them was difficult. The first time you spoke after waking up from her little experiment, you’d blown out your own eardrums. 
Even after you finally harnessed them, you figured that it was better to just be quiet. The times you did speak you kept your voice below a whisper. 
“You don’t talk a whole lot do you?”
You shrugged, “Only when I have to, really.” You sat in his workshop, mostly against your will. He’d invited you to dinner, though it felt like more of a command, and you’d tried to get him to make the journey up the mountain to you. 
He’d, of course, refused because he was a stubborn bastard. You didn’t even want to sit down anywhere, there was oil and blood on nearly every surface. And if it wasn’t covered in that, it was sticky with dried lycan drool. 
At least Moreau managed to keep his quarry clean.
Heisenberg hadn’t stopped staring at you since you sat down, it was starting to bug you.
You don’t normally speak with your family, mainly because you don’t really care for any of them. Having his attention on you was disturbing.
He sets his fork down on his plate and gives you an odd look, “How do your powers work, anyway?”
It was easier to show than it was to explain. You focused on the large pile of metal scraps on his desk and opened your mouth. The noise was nearly silent at first, a high pitched ringing that you questioned if you were actually hearing. 
Then it got louder, the ringing clear now. It was painful to anyone outside of the focused stream of sound waves, but it was lethal once you stepped into the stream. The metal shook, vibrating loudly against his desk. A few toppled over, the rest exploded in a violent display of clashing metal shards and sparks. 
Heisenberg clutched his ears, a small stream of blood leaking from between his fingertips. You want to apologize to him. You’ve always had a little difficulty controlling your powers in such close spaces. 
But he doesn’t look mad, he doesn’t even look like he’s in pain. Instead he’s grinning widely at you, something glinting in his eyes that had you feeling on edge. 
He sees the uniqueness of your powers, the untapped potential for violence and how helpful someone like you could be to his cause
He waters the seedling of resentment you already hold towards Miranda and helps it grow
He whispers words of hate and anger into your ear until you’re just as passionate about taking Miranda down as he is
You two work together, using your odd understanding of radio and sound waves to improve his soldat designs 
Slowly, your loyal followers from the village start to abandon you and move to different lords. Your connection to Heisenberg has soured your influence among the sheep in the village, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care
Your status as a lord meant little to you when you had him
He’s intrigued by your powers and loves to experiment with them, but more than anything there’s something soothed inside him because he’s no longer alone
He’s grateful for the support you provide when he feels like he’s just stagnant in his progress taking down Miranda
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end. — I do not own the characters or the game Resident Evil Village, but this writing is my own all rights reserved © not-neverland06 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.
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vamp1reheart · 16 days ago
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•°Shadow of light°• 02
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Notices: This book contains violence, explicit sexual content, verbal and non-verbal abuse, war scenarios, Conflicts, depression and suicide, toxic relationships, obsessive themes, and others... This book is a Taehyung x female reader fanfic, However, I do not own BTS and I have no intention of offending anyone with this story!
Note: Initially this book was not supposed to become a fanfic, it is an original book of mine that is still being created. Turning this book into a Taehyung fanfic was a request from a friend of mine, so I hope you like it. I might be able to post the original version of the book, but it will all depend on how people react to this fanfic (the book is a bit different from the fanfic, don't worry ;)
Preview:"She was known as the sun, always with her bright smile and her admirable kindness."
"He was known as the moon, cold, dark and in his coat were the most precious stones."
"But the moon does not shine without the light of the Sun, and that is something he did not count on."
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Have you ever dreamed that you were falling into a deep, dark hole?
That was the feeling I felt when I woke up.
I was in my room. The window was open and the sunlight lit up my room, like a cozy setting.
But then I remember what happened last night.
Was that a dream?
I'm not sure, but it seems like the man is just a distant memory.
I'm pulled out of my thoughts by Aunt Miranda calling my name.
For the first time, I woke up after her. I think it's better not to tell Aunt Miranda about the dream I had, since she's paranoid she'll have me blessed.
Walking down the stairs in a fragile manner I see Aunt Miranda in the living room.
"Good morning aunt"
"Good morning dear, come with me to the city fair. I need some things..."
Leaving the house after that dream seems like a terrible idea, I don't know why I think that, but something tells me it's better not to go out.
Ignoring my thoughts, I decide to please Aunt Miranda and go to the fair with her. It's been a long time since Aunt Miranda and I spent time together, so I have to stop being selfish and please her at least a little. I curse myself for even considering the possibility of locking myself in my own house in order to hide from the dream I had.
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I wish I could say that the fair is peaceful. But it isn't.
I feel watched.
Could it be because the fair was full of people? But it's not, the path to the fair was quiet, but the feeling that someone is watching me is constant.
I hate this feeling, maybe my subconscious was right...maybe I should have listened to my selfishness and stayed home.
Maybe I...
My thoughts are suddenly cut off when I see him in my peripheral vision. That's him, right there, in an alley, hidden in the shadows.
Without even realizing it, I stop walking, the pressure in my chest returning again, I can only look at him.
He was still frighteningly handsome. He gives me a smile, that same smile he gave me in my dream, and with his finger he calls me. He doesn't need to use words for me to come to him.
But what am I doing? I feel like I have no control over myself at the moment.
When I realized I was already very close to him, This makes me fear, my whole body trembles, with fear?
He grabs my hands in an attempt to stop them from shaking, and again comes close to my face to whisper in my ear.
"You look even more beautiful in the sunlight..."
He spins my body, making my back hit his chest. He brushes my hair aside and I hear a small chain noise.
Looking down I see a beautiful necklace, it was simple but certainly extremely valuable. It was golden like gold, and at its tip was a stone, Half bluish white that reflected the sunlight.
"Only the best jewels for my best jewel."
He says, caressing my arms gently, before his touch becomes like a ghost on my skin.
Turning around again, I realize he's already gone.
It certainly couldn't be a dream now.
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In my room, I can't stop thinking about who he could be.
The jewel he gave me is definitely a diamond.
I may not know much about stones, but I know it's a diamond and its chains are gold.
This is not cheap at all, jewelry like this doesn't exist on this side of the wall.
He was rich, very rich. But how did he end up here on this side of the wall?
How did he find out about me?
Your appearance is raising more questions than answers for me.
The rich and the poor are not allowed to cross each other's side. This is one of the main rules that the former King Kim put in place.
But why is he here? If he's here, he must have a passage.
Looking at the photo of my aunt Miranda with a child me.
If he is a thief and got all this money, it means I can get money to give Aunt Miranda a better life. She always did everything to make me happy, even when she didn't have it. I need to give back, I need to show myself useful.
So if that scary man can help me make money, I'm willing.
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When the sun is taken by the moon, my decision was already made.
Opening my window I don't think twice before jumping out, and heading towards the lake where I know I could find him.
I know he's dangerous, my subconscious says so. But I need to help Aunt Miranda.
Again I see the shine of the water reflecting the moonlight. Truly magnificent, but I have no time to waste.
Before I can fill my lungs with air and scream for the strange man, a voice is heard behind me.
"Don't you dare scream. Didn't I tell you that it might attract predators?"
I quickly turn towards him.
"You!" I say, pointing at him accusingly, realizing at the same moment that I hadn't planned what to say to him.
"Looks like someone needs me, were you looking for me dear?"
He says, approaching and circling me as if he were a shark about to devour his prey.
It's intimidating, and his gaze makes me shrink.
"Yes..."
His chest seems to swell with pride, or some similar feeling.
"You have no idea how good that makes me feel. Now tell me darling, what do you need me to do for you?"
He says with a strange smile, taking my hand and bringing it to his face like a loving hug.
"I need you to answer me, are you a thief from the other side?"
I ask him and his face looks shocked. But soon his expression turns into a mocking smile.
"Is that what you think?"
"Yes, that's what I think."
"And if I go, what will you do?" He says bringing our faces closer.
"I want you to teach me."
His face turns to shock again, and he lets out a loud laugh.
"My dear, I may or may not be a thief on the other side. But if you want to go to the other side, there is an easier way to do it."
How did he know? Anyway, it doesn't matter, he has the solution to my problems and that's what's important.
"As?" I ask distressedly, but I had already made up my mind.
"You can go to the other side, if you are mine..."
Continued :)
(Not reviewed! Sorry for any mistakes!)
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