#none of them capture exactly what I'm going for

[heartbeetz]

Wasn't gonna have Anton's daughter (who only exists in an au of our ship) leach over into demonic au but ummmm the idea of her playing with his tail and thinking it's soooo cool that she's suddenly got "a monster dad" is really really cute........

[supercutszns]

Hi!! Just had to drop in and say I LOVED your Luke fic and I can’t wait for more. I would love protective Luke with hurt/comfort, if that sounds interesting at all. Thanks for sharing your writing!!! 🌸

fighting chance; luke castellan

wc + pairing: 4.2k, luke castellan x daughter of ares! reader

synopsis: when an enemy takes advantage of your kindness during capture the flag, luke intervenes with a sword in hand.

warnings: a creepy boy👎, threats/harm to reader, she’s going through it, blood/injuries (nothing major), angry ANGRY luke, violence, lots of fluff/reassurance at the end<3

notes: thank you SO much for your kind words & your request!! hurt/comfort is my bread and butter my favourite fic genre of all time i think. & protective luke is just a bonus bc he’s already crazy so it can go as far as i want🤭 i’m not exactly sure what this turned into but if i fix it any more i'm going to go insane so hope you like it!

You’re not much of a fighter.

That alone is a normal thing to admit—plenty of people don’t like violence, the frisson of a challenge, the bruises that come with them. It’s nothing to be ashamed of.

Unless you’re a child of Ares.

People at camp often ridicule your gentle nature when they see you with your half-siblings. They’re all gritted teeth and sharp edges, born warriors that take up all the space they can get. You, on the other hand, are lousy with weapons and even lousier with your fists. You’re quiet, attentive. While your siblings charge into battle without second thought you stay back, flitting around to adjust armour, change out weapons, oversee the terrain. Planning isn’t Ares’ style so you’re pretty much useless but nobody wants to admit it. You’re usually mistaken as a child of Hephaestus or Athena.

Unfortunately, you are a child of Ares, through and through—just in none of the ways that matter.

There are rare times your father’s influence peeks through. Not with bursts of rage or fists flying, but with thoughts. And sometimes those thoughts turn into words. Well, not sometimes. One time. This one.

The evening before the camp’s Capture the Flag game, every cabin gathered around the bonfire past dinner. To burn offerings, to chat, or in Luke Castellan’s case, to admire.

He watches you laugh with Clarisse from a distance. The Ares cabin leader always had a certain fondness for you. When Luke first started dating you he had to ask Clarisse for her blessing beforehand just to be sure she wouldn’t kill him. He’d do it a million times over just for the moment you look back, your face warming when you catch his stare. He rolls his eyes at you to lessen his smile, but he’s not sure it works. You giggle and turn back to your friend.

He’s always loved your softness; your capacity to defend and not attack. Your body rejects any skill you could possibly develop for violence. Believe him, he’s tried to teach you sword fighting, but the last time he gave you a lesson you nearly impaled yourself thirty seconds in. He loves your wit and your tenderness, your proficiency at preventing conflict, your refusal to argue. But a selfish part of him loves the fact that he’s your protector even more.

The night wears on with the flickers of fire and friendly banter. One of the times Luke looks back at you, his brows wrinkle. There’s a guy talking to you. A group of them, actually, but there’s one clearly leading the pack. Some Aphrodite kid. Luke’s jaw twitches.

“Hey, princess,” the voice makes you pull away from your talk with Clarisse, but you’re confused. Luke is the only one that calls you that.

“Um, me?” You ask when you see the boy in front of you. He’s tall, chest puffed out. It’s not an endearing silhouette. “What’s up?”

“You wanna be on my team for Capture the Flag tomorrow?” He asks nonchalantly.

You laugh politely, “Sorry, but I don’t think we’re allied with Aphrodite tomorrow. That’s your cabin, isn’t it?” You feel bad that you can’t remember—his face is so … plain.

He chuckles back, but it’s a lot less nice. “No, doll, that’s not what I mean.” He steps a little too close, and even though you know Clarisse is behind you it feels like she’s a thousand miles away. “Well,” he drawls, a smirk drawn out, “you meet me in the forest after we start, and then we can … you know. Confer.”

“Confer?”

“Yeah. You get what I mean, pretty girl, don’t play dumb.”

A revulsion coats your gut. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t call me that,” you say as firmly as you can.

“What, pretty or dumb? Why not both?”

It’s demeaning, the way he says it, and it stirs a temper in your stomach you know you inherited from your father. You’re not big on confrontation. Or embarrassment. But this weirdo is talking to you out in the open and people are starting to stare. He wouldn’t dish it out if he can’t take it, right?

“I’ll pass on your offer. I have a boyfriend and I’m actually on his team tomorrow, so I’d rather confer with him, sorry.” Your hands wring together but you do your best to quell them, imagining it’s the string of Luke’s camp necklace, threaded between your fingers. You try to look for him out of the corner of your eye.

He snickers, even though it’s common knowledge you and Luke have been together for months now. “So you are dumb, huh?” He tries to smirk and you assume is supposed to be sexy, but it’s just gross. His hand tries to slide around your waist.

“Don’t touch me, please,” you hit his hand away. Your skin is crawling and the knot inside you tightens.“Just leave me alone. People are looking, you know.”

“We could go somewhere where nobody looks,” he sneers, and the grin on his face is so sleazy that you just can’t stand it anymore.

You pray to your father for strength. And to yourself for forgiveness.

“I’m sorry, are you stupid or something? I told you, no.” You snap. “Maybe you’re the pretty dumb one, but for a child of Aphrodite it’s shocking how little the first one applies.”

His eyes are wide, and the posse he’d assembled behind him has attracted quite the view. You almost feel like crying, all these eyes on you, but you’re so sick of people thinking they can walk all over you just because you’re not like your siblings.

“What the fuck is wrong with you? I’m just trying to be nice—” He grabs your wrist as you leave but you yank it hard.

“Don’t. Touch me.” People are staring at you now, but the only one you care about is Luke, who looks equally ticked and equally proud, and all you want to do is kiss him. “Hope the only time we confer tomorrow is if somebody’s sword is at your throat.”

It’s the last thing you say to him. He starts to go after you but Luke is already at your heels. “Back off, man.” You can spot how all his muscles are already rearing themselves for a fight. You wrap a hand around his wrist, and he meets your eyes. Not now.

The altercation is lost the second the two of you leave the bonfire. Nothing matters when Luke has you in his arms, kissing you outside of your cabin, telling you how damn beautiful you looked.

You’re fixing a new Ares boy’s armour when Luke finds you. “Hey, angel,” he says, leaning down to press a kiss to your cheek. He relishes in the way your face heats up. “You ready for battle?”

You smile, “Always.” You pat the kid on the cheek and send him on his way. He gnashes his teeth and roars, joining his siblings at the front. Luke catches the longing in your expression.

“All good?” He asks gently.

It takes you a second for your eyes to meet his. “Mmhm,” you swallow. “Just hope his armour doesn’t fall off.”

Luke sighs for a moment, then wraps his arms around you. “He’ll be fine, sweetheart. Be safe, okay? Stay close.” He kisses your temple, rubbing circles on the nape of your neck.

“Yes sir,” you reply against his chest. His insides flutter.

He pulls your face up to his and kisses you, tender and wanting. “Let’s show these hooligans who’s boss,” he quips.

“You’ll show them. I’ll hide in the woods until some idiot comes along and tries to ambush you.”

Your dulcet tone has him wrapped around your finger, and you don’t even know it. “You’ve always got my back,” he croons, kissing your brow.

“And you’ve always got our flag.”

You kiss him again and he lets you slip out of his arms no matter how badly he wants to keep you there forever. He watches you vanish into the trees, and his heart goes with you.

He gears up with his team and the horn sounds. Game on.

There’s yelling, sweat, adrenaline, and Luke embraces it all like a man starved. This is his chance to be ruthless, to let all his untapped rage cycle through him. This is why he’s unstoppable. This is why he’s the best.

Clarisse is unusually cooperative today, but competent as always, and whenever someone’s weapon breaks or they lose their team she just barks at them to go find you. You, the smartest person in Ares, who can mend a weapon with nothing but blades of grass and determination. Luke is pretty sure your cabin would be lost without you. He wonders if you know.

The groove of the game has fully enthralled him. He’s alert, his wrist nimble, his sword a living, breathing part of him. There’s almost nothing that can take him out of his victory path until he hears one of the younger campers tell Clarisse he can’t find you anymore.

Whatever nincompoop he’s dealing with is left groaning on the floor. “What?” He barks, hand flexing around his sword. “Where is she?”

“Probably just moved,” Clarisse grunts as she kicks back an opposing camper. “She knows where everything is. Maybe she’s—oof—safer.”

“But how am I supposed to fix my spear?” The kid frowns.

Luke runs his tongue along the roof of his mouth, dry and laden with salt. He told you to stay close. Where would you go? “I’ll find her,” he decides, already sheathing his sword to walk towards the trees.

“Luke—”

“I’ll find her!”

He barely pays attention to the calamity going on around him. With a flick of his wrist he knows he can take out any person he wants. The second he gets to the trees, where the air is cooler, it’s startling how much quieter it is. No wonder this is your preferred hiding spot.

He thanks the quiet a thousand times over because if it had been any louder he wouldn’t have heard you scream.

It’s so short it’s almost indiscernible, but he knows it’s you based on how his body movies before his brain does. It snaps something in him, the adrenaline transformed into something acerbic, determined.

“Don’t fucking scream again.” A cluster of boys are stationed around you. You’re leaning back in the dirt. You barely feel the earth sticking to your skin. Just your heart jostling madly, your fingertips shaking in the ground beside you. “Okay, I won’t, just put the sword down—”

The snarling Aphrodite boy from last night takes a swing at you, and you scramble back just enough to avoid it. “No can do, doll.” His face is twisted with rage. The lackeys he had when you told him off are there too, cornering you against a cluster of trees like you’re some caged animal. There’s a dagger clenched in one of your dirt-ridden fists but you know it won’t do you any good. You can’t fight; you don’t have it in you. But these boys do. And they’re angry.

“Tell me where the flag is,” he orders. The tip of his blade comes under your chin, fogging up with the labours of your breath, your head pressed against the trunk of a tree.

You stutter, “You’re not—You’re not supposed to threaten like this—”

“You embarrassed me in front of all those people yesterday,” he cuts you off. “Thinking you’re so fucking smart. I didn’t even say anything that big a deal but you run your mouth to the entire camp and make me look like the idiot. I thought you were nice.”

The words are laced with poison. You know from the wild look in his eyes that this isn’t about the flag at all.

Tears sting your eyes and the sword grazes your throat. Of course this is happening to you. The one time you feel your father’s rage, when you exemplify the thing you’re told to be, you are punished.

You are never going to be the right kind of daughter.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” you try to say it evenly, but your breath is so ragged it’s barely audible. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said all that.” You mean it, but they won’t care.

The boy’s face looks pleased at your tears. It makes you inexorably ashamed. “Some fucking Ares kid,” he snorts. “Can’t even fight, can you? Can’t even pretend to.” His sword leaves your throat and travels up to your quivering jaw. You’re wordless, white-knuckling the dagger at your side, praying that Luke is somewhere nearby.

“No wonder they stash you back here. You’re useless.” His eyes scan every part of you, and the idea of him knowing what you look like forever is so revolting it makes you want to vanish. “Too bad you’re alone, though. Nobody’s gonna know I was here because nobody’s gonna hear you.”

Your eyes get wide, and something in your mind rumbles through you like an engine. An urge buried in your blood.

Your dagger tears into his leg just as his sword dashes your arm. The pain is sharp, stinging, but the boy winces and you know you hurt him too. It gives you just enough time to roll out of the way as he lurches forward. “The fuck is wrong with you?” He swears.

Blood drips onto your shorts, splotched with tears. You know you can’t go anywhere because his friends are here and you’re almost certain you’ll be maimed, but you tried. At least you tried.

The Aphrodite boy picks his sword back up, stalks towards you, and then freezes.

Because Luke has just spotted you. And he’s spotted the boy that has you on the ground.

And he’s the best fucking swordsman Camp Half-Blood has seen in three hundred years.

“If you don’t get away from her right now I’m putting this through your skull.” He emerges from the foliage, his sword raised, sweat dripping down his face. You have never seen anyone look angrier. He has never felt angrier.

The boy blanches, and Luke sees how easily his lapdog friends shrink in his presence. Good.

“Woah, easy,” the boy holds his hands up in mock surrender and tries to flash a smile but it’s just fucking pathetic. His arms are shaking and his throat bobs about a million times. “We’re just playing the game.”

“Like hell you are,” Luke spits. “You gang up on my girlfriend and you expect me to believe this is fair play? Want me to tie you all together and push one of you off a cliff to keep the spirit going?”

“Didn’t know she was yours,” the boy tries to shrug but again, it’s a miserable attempt that only makes Luke feel stronger.

“Not that it matters but yes, you do,” Luke chuckles thickly. “I beat your ass in sword training last week. You know exactly who I am. And I’m sure you know who you are, so it’s obvious you’re playing out of your league here.”

Out of the corner of his eye he sees you still cowering, blood dribbling down your arm. He wants to tear the world apart. “Apologize and maybe I don’t send you to the infirmary.”

“We just want the flag, man,” the boy swallows.

“And I want your head on a stick. Want to see who gets what first?”

It’s too provocative an insult for a moron like this to ignore, so soon Luke has the pleasure of disarming five bitter boys that have clearly never been good at a single thing in their life. He tears through them like sheets of paper, knocking them to the dirt, ripping their clothes. He thinks of you, just you, your honest heart and patient hands, and it’s enough to fuel him for a millennia.

The last boy, the leader, is at Luke’s mercy, and he has none to give. The flat of Luke’s blade is pressed horizontally against the boy’s neck, an angering similarity to the position he had you in earlier. “If you ever do this again, I’m going to kill you.”

“You’re—fucking—crazy—” The boy wheezes, the length of the blade squeezing his throat against a tree trunk. “I’ll—I‘ll tell Chiron.”

Luke has to bite the inside of his cheek to keep him from doing something he regrets. “Oh yeah? You want me to tell Chiron how you harassed and terrorised a girl in the middle of the forest all in the name of play? Want me to tell him what you said to her last night at the campfire? Because I’m sure it won’t take much for him to get rid of your ugly face as it is, and I’m a camp counsellor.”

He knows it’s not the most morally correct use of his title. He knows he might be stepping over the line. But he also knows you’re always being ignored or trampled over and he’s tired of pretending like he doesn’t give a damn. He’s tired of people trying to force you into something you’re not. Of you crying in his bed at night because they’re trying to drag a violence out of you that isn’t there. Always in the name of fucking play.

Luke takes the sword off the boy’s neck and shoves him backwards. His calf is bleeding, not a deep wound, but a wound nonetheless, and Luke is full of pride when he realizes you did that. The boy’s bad leg makes him wobble and fall at the force of the push. Luke enjoys watching the scramble. “I—I was just trying to be nice, it’s not my fault she took it the wrong way!” The boy flails his hands in the air, rising to his feet again, and Luke shoves him down twice as hard. A piece of his shirt tears off in Luke’s hand.

“You’ve gotta stop talking or I really am going to kill you,” he seethes. “Don’t touch her ever again. Go.”

Luke is sure he looks homicidal right now because the guy finally tumbles his way down the hill. His body fades into the distance, swallowed up by shrubbery and sweat.

The second he’s gone Luke tosses his sword and armour and gets back to you. “Shit,” he mutters, kneeling down. You’re still shaking, your head in your arms, and all his hatred morphs into a love so desperate it terrifies him. “Angel, come here. Let me see.” He lifts your face with his hands and scans you rapidly. “Did he hurt you anywhere else? Anywhere?”

“Just my arm,” you whimper. “My arm.”

He knows it’s not the cut that’s hurting you; it’s long, but thin, and it’s not bleeding too thickly. He takes the cloth from the Aphrodite boy’s shirt and wraps it around your arm, knotting it at the end. “All right, that should be better.”

You look at him with watery eyes, and he knows all you need is for him to hold you. He folds you in his arms and leans against a stump. You can’t get close to him fast enough. The tip of your nose buries itself in his neck and he feels the dampness of your cheeks on his skin. “It’s okay, sweetheart, you’re safe,” he soothes, pressing a kiss to your hair. “I’m so sorry.”

Guilt swaths over him for a brief moment; he wonders if he shouldn’t have done all that, if he should’ve been more sensible. Then your lips form a ‘thank you’ against his skin and all is forgotten.

You feel so small. The shock is still running its course, so all you can do is cry it out. Your hands still shake when you thread your fingers through Luke’s necklace to steady them. He soothes you the best he can, running his hand along your spine, all the sharpness of his voice softened just for you. “You’re all right, angel. I’m not going anywhere.”

You stay like that for a while. The sounds of the forest return to you; leaves in the wind, birds chirping, Luke’s breath tickling your hair. You crane your head up to nuzzle your nose against the faint stubble of his jaw. “My hero,” you murmur, and feel his skin shift as he smiles.

“Couldn’t have done it without you. Saw the cut you gave him on his leg.” He kisses your temple. “I hope it gets infected.”

You giggle weakly no matter how you try smothering it in his chest. “Gods, you’re awful.”

“He deserves it! I probably should have killed him!”

“You came pretty close, didn’t you?” You mumble. Luke’s expression is wary, but you smile to yourself and it dispels everything. “I was hoping you’d come.”

“Good. Serves them right, messing with you like that. Fucking idiots.” He kisses your face again for good measure, “You sure they didn’t get you anywhere else, princess?”

You nod but you know you look wounded. You nudge into the crook of Luke’s neck again. “They … you know, it’s just … the usual stuff.” Every word weighs a pound as it comes out. Your heart feels sore.

Luke tenses again instantly. “What usual stuff?”

“Um, just—” The shame gets caught in your throat. “They all think I’m useless, Luke. Why can’t I do this right?”

You start to cry again, but he just holds you closer. Sometimes it surprises you how much patience he has. He prides himself as the harsher one between the two of you, but you don’t know who he’s fooling with the way he always knows how to comfort people.

“I don’t know what to do,” you continue, blinking back tears, “I’m not—I’m just not good at this, I don’t know why I’m in Ares, I don’t know why I can’t … be that. Why is he my father? I’m no good at being angry. I want to be angry.”

Luke’s quiet for a moment. Nothing changes except his hand rubbing circles on the nape of your neck again. Then he sighs deeply and says, “You don’t owe your father a damn thing. You don’t owe anyone anything.” He’s resolute, firm, a sharp contrast to his gentle kiss on your hairline. “You’re the smartest, most generous person I know. You need those people in battle. You’ll lose if you don’t.”

The warmth of his skin prompts you to look up at him. He looks different so often, the way he can shift between so tough and so gentle. Sometimes, like now, he’s caught in the middle, the remains of a furious sweat hardening his face, but his eyes are nothing but tender. You think it’s how you like him best.

“Besides, we’re not our parents, right? Who cares about Ares anyway?” Luke shrugs.

“Luke! Don’t say that!” your tears turn into a giggle. “The Gods might punish you!”

“I’ll handle it. There’s enough fight in me for the both of us.”

“Okay, tough guy,” you mutter with a weak smile.

You’re still sniffling. He runs his thumbs across your cheeks, and his gaze softens. “You’re an Ares kid because you are a fighter, angel. You just fight a hell of a lot smarter than the rest of us. Best one I know. Well, other than me.”

It makes you smile. “So second-best?”

“Tied for first.”

He kisses you with that stupid roguish smile. It’s salty with tears and sweat, but it mends your heart anyway. There is nowhere in the world you’d feel safer.

“I love you,” he says against your cheek. “Be as sweet as you want. If anyone has anything to say about it I’ll mess ‘em up good.” Your face warms as his voice drops to your ear, “And I know you’re an Ares kid because you’ll encourage it every time. You might not have a violent bone in your body, but you sure don’t have a problem with me using mine.”

“Diplomatically, Luke. Diplomatically.”

“Sure, sure. Whatever you want.”

You can’t help but kiss him again. You’re not entirely sure why he loves you so much, why you love him so much, but you never feel quite as secure as when you’re with him.

Cheers boom from the other side of camp. Luke’s head perks up like a dog, and you turn back to search for spots of red or blue. “Did we win?” You ask, craning your head to get a better view.

“Don’t care,” Luke says.

You look back at him. His anxious face says it all. “Yes, you do.”

“Okay yes, I do, and I need to see if those douches found our flag so I can choke them out with it.”

You laugh, standing so Luke can jog off to see the state of your team. But before he goes, he picks you up and smothers you in kisses, holding you like you’re his prize.

You are not a fighter, but your boyfriend sure is. And you’re perfectly okay with that.

[celesterayel]

the it couple | luke castellan

request: I’m not really sure what qualifies as a request but could you write a Luke x reader where they are like the camp it couple? 🫶🫶

summary: common knowledge is how irrevocably in love luke castellan is with you.

"you know i adore you, i'm crazier for you than i was at sixteen lost in a film scene" - t.s.

w.c. : 702

warning(s) : none

pairing : luke castellan x reader

the campers of camp half blood don't quite remember how or when it had happened. It just always was: you and Luke Castellan, that is. where you went, he followed. the shadow to your guide and you the balm to his sorrow. annabeth used to whisper to the younger children–the ones who had been taken to camp far too young and therefore had little knowledge of love–that you and Luke Castellan were soulmates: seamlessly bound to one another.��

you yourself had never believed in fate despite the fact that you had met them–old bitter hags. you preferred to believe that life was not set in stone, unbreaking and withered to a timeline. it perhaps led to your brash attitude and ‘ride or die’ mentality but your mannerisms only made luke castellan fall in love with you all the more. some things were just beyond the gods' control. you and luke were one of those things.

you had first arrived at camp a decade ago, where you were then claimed by hades. of course news of you spread like wildfire: you were gorgeous, your talent with your bo staff was unmatched, and your father was one of the three–strong power ran through your blood and you showed it everyday during training. but that wasn’t exactly what caught the attention of everyone, rather the fact that the popular gaze of a certain brown-eyed boy always strayed to you. when you laughed, he smiled. where you went, he strayed. you were magnet and he was never far away.

you both tipped toed around one another, constantly drifting toward the other. playful banter slipped between you two and those around you wondered when you would finally just get together. the first time you guys finally breached the delicate line between more than ‘obviously pining friends’ was after an exciting rivalry game.

despite the strategic planning of annabeth–who clearly eyed the tension between the two of you–and the excellent swordsmanship, house ares had won the game because of you. You had been the one to distract luke castellan after clarisse had forced you to use your charms. it was fun to see the cute blush adorn his cheeks when you approached the head of the Hermes House.

“so, does this mean you agree to go out with me?” he breathed out, hands twirling his sword as he was once again bested by you in capturing the flag.

you laughed out, “i was just waiting for you to ask, castellan.”

no sooner after you had begun dating did the infamy of you two reach an all high around camp. how could it not? 

you two were the all anyone could talk about–the best of the best.

luke castellan was already the best swordsman at camp; a prodigy in the making. his brown curls and dimples only made him more popular among the girls and young teens. he was one of the highest placed leaders around camp; one of the few that clarisse actually respected and the one that annabeth regarded most. 

you were a gem in the rough: bold and brash at times, but calculating and quick-witted. you were the one to turn to when those around camp felt alone, always ready to take care of others and offer words of wisdom. you were a living definition of rules being broken and your power only highlighted the height of your placement around camp. 

when you two walked by, the eyes of the others strayed. newcomers learned of your names before they learned what exactly camp half blood was. 

when you threw your head back and laughed, people watched as Luke curled his lips in pride at being the one behind your laughter. when he sat round the fire and sang songs with the campers, you sat right beside him; head laying on his shoulder and hoping the moment would never end. he willingly allowed himself to lose camp games if only by your hand, time and time again.

yes, you were the it couple of camp half blood but none of that mattered, when he was the one for you.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for trying to steal a kid's pet? WIBTIA for continuing?

That sounds way worse than it is. Please let me explain before judging.

Me (25M*) and my partner (25F*) (we'll call her J) are avid exotic animal collectors (we work for an underground organization). We're usually incredible at catching exotic animals (again, for our work—usually we only keep ones we can handle/we like, and we don't keep too many at a time. Our only consistent companion is a very chatty cat). We're also both incredibly intelligent. So I just can't understand why we can't get this one kid's pet.

The kid (10M), who we'll call A. Ais out on his own and constantly traveling. I couldn't tell you why. Usually he has older kids, what I can only assume are his babysitters. They change every time he travels. I don't know how he gets friends so easily. I'm not especially interested in any of their animals—none are quite as interesting or strong as A's pet. So we only really go after his.

After about fifteen years of doing this to this ten year old kid and successfully capturing his pet exactly ZERO times, J and I are kind of attached to both of them. I know she is, because I know how she gets when she cares about someone.

I think catching A's pet, at this point, is kind of more just a way to stay around him for J and I. Of course we want to succeed and move up at work, and of course we're frustrated by not capturing him for more than like, a week. Ever. But this ten year old has come a long way in the past twenty years.

Recently A has gone on to make a major life achievement award—again, at ten—and I'm just wondering. Are J and I in the wrong for trying to take A's pet? I mean, J insists he's kind of a twerp. If not, would we be in the wrong for keeping it up?

What are these acronyms?

[vanteguccir]

── ୨୧ !　𝗧𝗜𝗞𝗧𝗢𝗞 𝗧𝗥𝗘𝗡𝗗𝗦 | 𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗧 𝟰

　　　　　　　　　𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒕 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐 x reader

SUMMARY: 4 times that Y/N and Matt made a couple's trend on tiktok.

WARNING: None.

REQUESTED?: Kinda?

AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism, copy, or "inspiration"! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

　　　༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

1. Decorating my boyfriend's car super girly and seeing his reaction

Going downstairs quietly so as not to wake anyone, considering it was still too early for any of the triplets - and even Y/N - to be awake, Y/N entered the garage. Matt's car, an impeccably clean black one, was there, parked and oblivious to what was coming.

The girl turned on the room light and made sure she had closed the door before finally unlocking the car ones by simply touching the small control in her hands.

Opening the driver's door with her unoccupied hand, Y/N climbed in, sitting down on the seat, a sound of complaint escaping her throat as she noticed how far and low the seat was - obviously adjusted for Matt's height. She quickly adjusted the position of it until she felt comfortable and, finally, put her phone in the support attached to the lower center of the windowshield, exactly where the boys supported their camera during car videos, her right hand instinctively flying towards the ceiling lights, turning it on.

Y/N unlocked the device and quickly browsed through the apps until she found TikTok, opening it and entering the recording space, adjusting the focus to ensure that every detail was captured, and pressed the red button.

"Good morning, TikTok!" The girl muttered in a low tone, a mischievous glint clearly apparent in her eyes. "Today, I'm going to do the biggest trolling of all in my boyfriend's car. Let’s turn it into a real preppy car!"

Y/N started by taking the first piece from the box of items she had prepared: a pink fuzzy cover for the steering wheel. The cover was a vibrant pink, with a soft, cozy feel to the touch.

Y/N carefully slid the cover over its right place, making sure every inch was covered and fitted perfectly. The fluff glowed below the yellow light, giving the steering wheel a luxurious, exaggerated appearance.

Then, she picked up two pink cup holders, filled with glitter, both twinkling every time the light hit one of them, as if it was full of little stars. Y/N laughed to herself as she placed them on the center console's cup rests, fitting them in and smiling widely when she noticed how perfect the size was.

"Matt will love putting our morning Starbucks here, for sure.” The girl murmured, looking up and sending a wink towards the camera.

The next step was to decorate the air conditioning vents. Y/N had bought several mini pink decorations, also full of glitter, each one more extravagant than the last. There were little hearts, stars, and even some fake diamonds. She carefully attached each to the air vents, adjusting until they were all secure and at a good enough distance to notice them all.

"Get ready for style and glamor to be blown throughout the car when Chris asks Matt to turn on the air conditioning during videos." She joked while still adjusting the last small items.

The car's gearshift could not be forgotten. Y/N pulled out a smaller sized pink fuzzy cover, specially designed. It was soft to the touch, matching the steering wheel cover perfectly. She slid it over the gear, adjusting it so it was secure, her right hand closing around the cover, smiling as she felt the small hairs caressing her palm.

Finally, to complete the look, Y/N took a pink diamond-shaped pendant, stretching her upper body upwards and extending her hands, hanging it around the rearview mirror. The pendant swayed slightly by itself, reflecting the light and casting small colored reflections throughout the interior of the all car.

"I feel like I'm in Barbie: a Fashion Fairytale." Y/N said, letting out a nasal laugh, resting her back against the backrest of the seat so that her eyes could analyze every corner of the car, admiring her final work.

She then turned her attention back to her cell.

"Alright, guys, the car is ready. Now we just need to wait for Matt to wake up and see his reaction."

The video stopped at that moment before it returned seconds later.

"I went upstairs after fixing the last details and woke up Matt, I made up that I was hungry, but that I wanted to have breakfast at a café." Y/N began with a hushed tone, now sitting in the passenger seat, her phone now in her hands. "I waited for him to get up and get ready before telling him I would wait for him in the car."

It didn't take long and soon Y/N heard Matt's footsteps coming down the stairs that led to the garage, her eyes looking up in time to see the silhouette of her boyfriend appearing in the doorway. She pressed her lips into a thin line in an attempt to contain her laughter.

Her eyes followed Matt's steps, who walked quickly towards the driver's seat door, the sound of the door opening echoing through the small space was followed by anticipation on Y/N's part, who looked at the camera to Matt and back again, waiting for his reaction.

"Hey, sweet girl, I'm sorry it took me so..." He interrupted his own sentence, his movements instantly stopping for a few seconds. "Y/N! What- What did you do to my car?!" Matt's voice echoed in a tone of disbelief, the surprise evident on his face not yet visible to the phone camera.

"Come on, babe, sit down so you can take a better look at this incredible work I did just for you." The girl asked in a fake sweet tone, smiling openly and leaning her upper body over the console, extending her right arm so that her hand could touch Matt's, holding it firmly and pulling him inside.

The boy, still wide-eyed and surprised, obeyed, sitting on the leather covered seat - already arranged again to his own taste - and closing the door with a thud.

"Where- When did you even get all those things?" Matt questioned again, his blue eyes quickly traveling over every pink detail before turning his attention back to Y/N, his mouth slightly open.

"Yesterday, duh." The girl answered as if it was obvious, shrugging her shoulders before her neutral expression broke into a smile again. "Did you like it? It's pretty, right? I'm sure your videos will be much cooler now."

"Babe, oh my God." Matt's voice sounded airy, eliciting a laugh from Y/N. He didn't know where to focus his attention, different shades of pink calling his eyes from every corner. "I can't lie. It looks so good." The boy finally reached out with his hands, his fingers curling around his steering wheel, pressing lightly against the extremely fluffy fabric over his palm.

"I know, right?" Y/N responded excitedly, briefly glancing at her cell that was still recording them. "Look at the cup holder, babe!" Her tone rose as she reached out toward the console, pointing to the pink cup holder with her index finger.

"So I can put in your favorite Starbucks drink every morning, huh?" Matt lowered his gaze to the item, shaking his head amusedly as he heard his girlfriend agree excitedly.

"Next step: getting the car wrapped in pink."

"Are you crazy?"

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2. Pretending to be asleep to see my boyfriend's reaction

Y/N was home alone, comfortable silence filling every corner as she waited for Matt to return from the street. He had gone out to get a specific sweet that she had been asking for for days, and the only place where they sold it didn't deliver.

Sitting comfortably on the grey couch in the living room, the girl was immersed in TikTok videos when a new couple trend appeared on her For You Page, catching her attention; Pretending to be asleep to see my boyfriend's reaction.

Y/N didn't think twice before making the decision to join the cycle of famous couples replicating the trend, quickly leaving TikTok, and opening the location app she shared with Matt. Watching his icon move across the colorful map, she calculated that she still had a few minutes before he arrived, rising from the couch seconds later, running down the small hallway that led to their room.

First, she took the plush, gray bedspreads off the bed, folding it and leaving it on Matt's gaming chair. The soft light from the already turned on lamp created a calm and welcoming atmosphere, perfect for what she had in mind.

She then adjusted her phone on the nightstand on her side of the bed, ensuring the camera was pointed directly at the mattress and the space Matt would enter, propping it against the lamp and organizing the minimal decorations that was always above the furniture around the device in a way that it disguised its existence there.

Checking the app again, she saw that Matt was just a few blocks away. Y/N hurried to lay down, adjusting herself comfortably but naturally.

She turned slightly to her back, rescuing Matt's pillow and hugging it to her chest, not stopping herself from lightly exhaling the natural scent of her boyfriend's male shampoo and cologne that permeated into the fabric, closing her eyes and regulating her breathing to make it seem like she was actually sleeping.

A few minutes later, she finally heard Matt's footsteps echoing across the floor, going from quieter to louder, indicating that he was getting closer to the room. She kept her eyes closed, trying to contain a wide smile as her heart beat fastned.

Matt's footsteps approached the door, the sound of it opening echoing after, the familiar sound of the paper bag he was carrying filling Y/N's ears.

"Babe, I found the one that you wanted, and guess what? They had just made it!" Matt started talking as soon as he entered the space, his voice excited and loud, before noticing the silence in the room.

The boy looked up, his eyes running around before noticing his girlfriend lying on their shared bed, lowering his voice when he noticed her apparently sleeping figure, his expression softening immediately, a small smile settling on his lips.

He closed the door behind him with a soft click, walking with steps of a feather towards the bed, the sound of his sock-covered feet tapping against the wooden floor gently echoing through the four walls.

His busy hand placed the bag with the sweet on the nightstand beside his side before he approached the edge of the bed, admiration written all over his face as he looked at Y/N.

He bent his knees slightly, curving his upper body over the mattress and bringing his face closer to Y/N's head, using his left hand to support his own weight, just watching her sleep for a few seconds, a tender smile on her face.

Matt then lowered his head so that his face was close to hers, sealing his lips over her forehead and head repeatedly, but very lightly and slowly, without the intention of waking her up.

"You're so beautiful when you sleep, you know that?" He whispered, his voice filled with affection, stroking the side of her face lightly with the tip of his nose before reaching out with his right hand, gently brushing away the loose strands of hair with his fingertips, taking them away from her eyes, being careful. His touch was light, almost like a gentle breeze.

Matt looked around, noticing the phone on Y/N's nightstand, but didn't suspect anything thanks to the low brightness of the screen. He just smiled, enjoying the moment, taking note of how the surroundings seemed as calm as ever.

Taking the corner of the duvet that was at the foot of the bed, he gently pulled it over his girlfriend, making sure she was comfortable and warm, petting the thick fabric lightly, molding it to his girl's body.

Then he got up again, reaching his hands to his bedside table, taking the bag with the sweet he had brought between his fingers. It was an angel cake with strawberry filling and whipped cream, Y/N's favorite.

The boy took the box with the cake out of the bag, being careful not to make any loud sounds, leaving the brown paper bag on the wood surface before walking towards Y/N's bedside table slowly, leaving the frame of the phone's front camera for a few seconds, placing the small white cardboard box above it.

"Hope you like it." The brunette murmured again, more to himself than to her.

Matt then returned to his side of the bed, resting his right hand on the mattress and taking off his socks before finally laying down next to her, being careful not to make too much noise or sudden movements.

After snuggling as best he could under the duvet, he turned on his side, bringing the front of his body closer to the back of Y/N's one, wrapping an arm around her waist slowly, gently pulling her closer, his hand automatically finding its way under the oversized t-shirt that covered Y/N's upper body down to her thighs, snaking his hand across the soft skin of his girl's stomach and finding home beneath her right breast, just as he did every day, not seeming to notice the shiver that ran through her body, closing his eyes.

Y/N couldn't help but relax her body even more under her boyfriend's gentle touch, snuggling closer, feeling a deep peace settle in her chest, momentarily forgetting that she was even recording something.

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3. Trying the spray trend on my boyfriend

Y/N was in the bathroom she shared with Matt, her hands working on resting her phone on the marble sink in a way that it wouldn't be obvious that she was recording, the screen with low brightness already open on the TikTok app. She made sure the frontal camera was well positioned, capturing the perfect angle from the bathroom door to the area where she would be standing.

Then, Y/N bent down slightly and opened the cabinet under the sink, her right hand retrieving a spray deodorant she had recently purchased, taking off the cap and setting it aside. With everything ready, the girl turned to her cell again, pressing the record button with her thumb.

Y/N smiled playfully at the camera before turning away from the device and extending her right hand, opening the bathroom door.

"Matt!" The low, muffled sound of Matt's voice shouting back echoed down the hallway leading to the bathroom. "Babe, can you come here for a minute?"

She waited, listening to her boyfriend's footsteps approaching. His figure quickly appeared in front of the already open door, a confused look on his face.

"What's wrong, babe? Do you need help with something?"

"I bought this new deodorant that says it's unscented, but I think it has a slight lavender scent. Can you smell it and tell me what you think?" Y/N asked, her tone sounding naive, holding the spray deodorant at the height she knew would be ideal for him to reach it, and pointing the hole where the product exited upwards.

"Sure." Matt nodded, still a little confused, but willing to help. He entered the bathroom completely and approached Y/N, tilting his head closer to the area where his girlfriend was holding the spray.

Y/N pressed the button on the top of the deodorant, creating a white cloud that slowly rose. Matt leaned even closer to smell the scent, a look of genuine concentration written across his face, and at that exact moment Y/N moved quickly, closing the distance between their faces and pressing her lips softly against his.

The kiss was quick and surprising, and she could feel Matt's slight shiver of surprise, a sound of shock escaping his throat.

When she pulled away, Matt's eyes were wide, his eyelids blinking rapidly as his brain tried to assimilate what had happened, his cheeks slowly turning into a bright red hue, a small smile appearing on the corner of his lips.

"What?" A loud laugh escaped Y/N's mouth as she watched his reaction, noticing his shy expression.

"You're a little devil." Matt shook his head comically. His tongue acted on its own as it escaped his mouth, passing his lips carefully, the taste of mint flooding his palate. "Is that mint?"

"Maybe." Y/N replied with the ghost of a smile, vaguely remembering how she had applied the Space Camp mind lip balm a few minutes earlier.

"Can I have another taste of it?"

"Matt!"

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4. Using my scary dog ​​privilege to walk alone at night

It was a quiet, cool evening as Y/N and Matt were taking a walk after a nice dinner at a home-cooked Italian restaurant close to their home.

Y/N's eyes swept the deserted streets in front of her, quickly looking back over her shoulder, taking note of Matt a few steps behind her body, vaguely remembering a TikTok she had watched earlier that day, the environment around them reminding her a lot of the one in the video.

With that, she decided to record one, too.

And how she was when she was beautiful

The girl was now holding her phone in her right hand, her screen with TikTok already open in the recording area staring back at her, the sound of the Babooshka song melody playing at a low volume from her speakers.

Her half-closed eyes were fixed on the front camera, which recorded her face contorted into a small smirk, her hair moving around her face as if it was planned, a consequence of the light wind that surrounded her and her measured steps, which never stopped.

She signed the letter

Y/N slightly raised her hand that was holding her cell so that the camera now captured the view from behind her back.

All yours

The video captured the image of Matt following in her footsteps, his body completely covered in black clothing, making a perfect contrast with the yellow night lights coming from the tall poles above their heads.

His posture was erect and his head remained high, his arms crossed so that his biceps were visible against the thin fabric of his black shirt and a serious expression resting on his face - as usual -, his eyes fixed straight ahead, as if he was on alert of everything, accompanied by his furrowed eyebrows, giving an impression of anger to anyone who saw him from afar.

Y/N, watching the image through the tilted phone screen that was still recording her boyfriend, felt a shiver run down her spine; a small, satisfied smile blooming on her face.

Matt was definitely a scary Doberman by her side.

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(If you want to be added to the taglist, go to this post)

[shinynewwriting]

The nature of being a comics fan is that sometimes you find out there's an issue that caters to all of your interests at once, but you've never heard of it because it was only sold with certain boxes of Cheerios in 2014. Such is the case with General Mills Presents: Justice League #9, featuring the Joker and Superman swapping bodies. (Bless @distort-opia for knowing exactly which cereal-sponsored comic this was)

We open with the news that Superman has gone mad and is defacing Mt. Rushmore! (Honestly, good for him) There's not much time to process this, though, because the Daily Planet has an unwanted visitor who needs to speak with Lois:

They flee to the roof, where the dastardly Harlequin of Hate promptly...empties out his poison guns and visibly has a small breakdown?

No one else can do puppy-dog eyes like Kal-El of Krypton. Clark manages to convince Lois that he's in the Joker's body by recounting their recent, ridiculously cute dates. They are dramatically interrupted, however, by none other than Lex Luthor.

HAHAHAHA I love his silly little rocket boots so much. Look at them! Anyway, Lex's security detains "the Joker", and things are not looking great for Clark.

I'm low-key fascinated by the fact that Clark's about to spill the beans to Lex. Is it because he thinks that whatever Lex will do to him is probably still not as lethal as what Lex would do to the Joker for threatening Lois? Is it because he thinks Lex will probably let him use the Body-Swap 9000 stashed in a lab somewhere if he just begs nicely enough? I love their weird situationship so much. It's all moot, though, because someone else also woke up feeling not quite themselves this morning:

(Vital to note that Bruce has been letting Clark squirm for several minutes thinking he's been captured, because he's a dick <3) So how did this all happen?

Ah, the Weird Kryptonian Artifact trope. Smallville was also a big fan. Notice how Lex and Clark are fighting with laser eyes and energy shields, while the Joker is just full-body tackling Batman because he's shameless. Anyway, the artifact activated and Silliness ensued.

Oh shit, wait, where's our favorite mad scientist during all of this?

HAHAHAHAHA, I would pay real money to see that sequence of events. "Alfred, it happened again. Go upstairs and tase me."

"With pleasure, Master Bruce."

Meanwhile, Lex wakes up reeking of another dude's cologne, blindfolded, and tied to a chair. It's a normal enough morning after for him, is what I'm saying.

Clark realizes he finally gets to be on the other side of all of Lex's shiny anti-Superman toys for once.

Does the fourth wall even exist for you, Joker?

The Joker, waking up in Clark Kent's apartment: "Damn, bitch, you live like this?"

While they are busy subduing SuperJoker, Bruce has a flawless plan for getting the Magic Artifact:

Lois Lane, criminal mastermind.

Lois is asking the real questions, but the Flash has learned not to even bother.

Finally, we come to the most important part of any Superman/Batman team up: the verbal equivalent of a sloppy makeout where they talk about how much they love each other.

All's well that end's well after their exploration of another man's body.

What the hell, this was so delightful???? Just a silly, fun romp through the body swap trope with several of my favorite characters. Thank you, I guess, Cheerios?

[butchvamp]

i did Lucanis's inner demons quest last night and have some thoughts [everyone groans in unison]

i admit that i definitely have a bias for Lucanis, i really like the crows (or i should say the crows from previous games & the lore around them) and my Rook is a crow so i'm inclined towards him in general.

that being said i feel i'm just. missing huge bits of information about him. he exists entirely in a void. i don't really know anything about his relationships with Illario or Caterina, the game glosses over so much of his role and what exactly he does within the crows (beyond just talking about how he was the Demon and the Magekiller) i suppose it's just too icky for the game to truly acknowledge outside of a few jokes about Lucanis poisoning the gang's food...

i know from seeing people posting excerpts from his novel that Caterina did, in fact, physically abuse him; i figured this was the case considering she's a high ranking member of the crows and thus no doubt had a role in torturing recruits, even if the game pretends like this is a thing that doesn't happen. you get a bit of banter early on where Lucanis, talking about Illario's behavior, says something along the lines of "My relationship with Caterina was complicated, too, and I was her favorite." implying some level of friction between them as well as conflicting feelings about her death.

but then that's it. we get nothing else. this should be a major piece of his story, a part of why he feels the way he does, and exploring Caterina's role in his and Illario's abuse would better expand upon Illario's resentment and make his and Lucanis's relationship more compelling beyond "Illario is a big jealous meanie."

i really wanted to like the inner demons quest more than i did, because conceptually i enjoy going into the fade/Lucanis's memories with Spite, so far Lucanis's quests have felt the most Dragon Age to me (fighting a naked woman in a giant pool of blood + seeing Spite lose control, him and Illario butting heads and having a competitive relationship before this (as the crows all should...), etc. these are fun!) but just like the rest of the game it's still holding back.

when you confront the memory of Caterina all you get are these choices:

none of these are particularly satisfying if you actually know the things Caterina has done... "Your love for him" is actually vile lol

this entire questline is a linear walk through fragments of the Ossuary & Lucanis's memories, there is nothing interesting here, Rook just plays therapist for about twenty minutes and then you make a nothing choice at the end that has no affect on anything at all... and most egregiously, we have learned literally Nothing new about Lucanis that the game hasn't already made an effort to tell us repeatedly (a real problem the game has in general, constant hand-holding and repetition).

there's Quite a bold choice to compare this quest to the Fade section in origins right at the start, with Rook and Spite joking about getting past the guards: "What did you expect, to turn into a mouse or something?" like yes, actually, i did expect something a bit more! even if you want to say the warden does the exact same thing with their companions in that quest, their dialogue is FAR better-- again, Rook's is all clinical therapy-speak (where did she even learn this shit? did the crows pay for her to get a degree in psych and become a licensed counselor?) and in origins, we do actually learn something new about each companion as well as getting to see them interact with their fantasies and/or nightmares. we get nothing here...

we could have seen him and Illario training together, being competitive, the early seeds of resentment being planted between them by Caterina's goading and abuse. we could have seen the guilt Lucanis feels about this, about Caterina's favoritism and how it's affected his relationship with Illario. we could have actually seen what happened to him when he was captured and in the Ossuary, we could have seen some of the horrible things he's had done to him and that he himself has done to become the Demon of Vyrantium, we could have learned more about why the demon inside of him became spite specifically-- because if what Zara's echo said is true, it started as an Envy demon-- so it was influenced by Lucanis in some way. what makes him spiteful? why is it spite that keeps him alive in the Ossuary...? is it spite as in defiance-- defiance of the Venatori, of Caterina's expectations and abuse, in defiance of Illario's betrayal...? unfortunately, Lucanis never really feels spiteful at all. determined to survive the Ossuary, but afterwards, never has he come across as spiteful (Spite is mostly just petty and a bit bitchy).

in my opinion the Envy demon fails because Lucanis was never envious of Illario or the First Talon position, only crushed by the loss of their relationship and guilty over Caterina's favoritism. obviously Caterina's expectations weigh heavily on him, but he knows he's the favorite, and he doesn't envy Illario for not being so-- he seems very aware of the fact that it doesn't equate to Illario having it "easier." but the game barely addresses this, only in weak voice-overs, while the majority of the quest is spent convincing Lucanis that he's not actually a demon. Lucanis is wholly a good guy that only kills blood mages and loves his poor grandma and his inner demon is entirely Literal and just him feeling bad about being an abomination :(

nevermind all that yucky complicated stuff. Illario is Bad and Jealous and deserves to be punished for... doing exactly what crows have always done.

of course it's easy to make Illario look bad when all of the other crows are treated like a found family, when we know that's not the case at all. crows have been competing and scheming and killing each other since origins. this isn't meant to make light of Illario's betrayal (in fact i still think it's quite significant given their history and the two of them being the last of their family) but instead Illario is very obviously suspicious from the start, the reveal of his betrayal was not surprising, it's predictable because, again, he is presented very differently from all the other crows we've seen in this game-- he's the Bad one, and Lucanis is the Good one. no nuance!

in his short story, The Wake, Illario is actually depicted as being extremely remorseful, getting very drunk and reminiscing on old childhood memories of Lucanis while Viago has to carry him home... of course there's no way of knowing the exact intent behind this story or what changed since (published in 2020 and written by Mary Kirby, after all) but either way, we don't get anything like that here. somewhere along the way we lost the depth and complexity of both characters; we don't get to confront this big ugly thing between them because the game refuses to engage with anything ugly at all.

[wonderlandwalker]

After All These Years | Finnick Odair x Reader

THG Masterlist / Taglist / Inbox

Summary: You think he no longer cares, and he thinks you're better off without him. But the reaping for the 75th hunger games puts a dent in both of those thoughts

Content Warnings/Tags: Angst, fluff, enemies to lovers, insinuations of smut, kissing, once again not proofread

Requested by @rottingpeache: absolutely need to see enemies to lovers with finnick. “I really don’t like you.” “And I really don’t believe you.”

Word Count: 1k

A/N: No clue if this is actually enemies to lovers or just a poor attempt at it. I'm gonna go take a nap now but there is more coming cause the requests sparked something in me again so thank you to everyone who sent them!!

None of you had expected it to happen, how could you? But you've learned by now there is no point in fighting it either. So when you heard Mags’ name being called out and you volunteered in her stead, you suppose it was simply out of habit. In a world like this, the only thing that makes you feel like you are surviving is helping others do the same thing. As you stepped forward you could see the cameras zooming in on your face, trying to capture every expression you were making. You saw the cameras do the same for Finnick. Years of being in an unwelcome spotlight had made his poker face almost unbreakable, but the small furrow of his eyebrows and the twitch in his gallant smile told you everything you needed to know.

It wasn't until the next day that he first spoke to you. Over the years you would see each other, of course, you would talk. But at all the events and all the parties you did nothing more than exchange pleasantries. But now he came out of your peripheral vision and cornered you against the wall behind you with his broad arms.

“What were you thinking, this might be the stupidest thing you've ever done.” His demeanour seemed angry, he seemed serious. But you had no reason to match it, you just wanted to get under his skin like he got under yours.

“Be careful what you say, you might actually be the stupidest thing I’ve done.” you wondered if he remembered, if he remembered the night you had spent together so many years ago, it had been the best night of your life, and you had no idea if he even remembered. If he did, he didn't let it show.

“Did you even think it through? You survived the arena once, and only barely, what makes you think you’ll make it out alive again.” His voice was a low rasp, and if you didn't know better, you'd say he sounded upset. But you knew better, Finnick had shown you his true colours when he started avoiding you, and you did remember that.

“I wasn't thinking, how could I? All I could think about was Mags having to go through it all again, you more than anyone else know she deserves better.” you were looking him in the eyes now, and it took all of your willpower not to melt. “My games weren’t that long ago, I did it then and I’m still here, I can do it again.” He stepped closer to you, eliminating the remaining space between your bodies, his chest against yours, and you could feel his heart skip a beat as he spoke.

“Exactly, I was there, and it damn near broke me too. I was there to piece you back together. But I won’t watch it happen to you again, I can’t let it happen. Because what if I’m not there this time, what if I'm not there to put you back together.” There was a stark contrast between his face and his voice. As you looked at him you saw his eyes soften, and it gave you a glimpse of the Finnick you once knew. But his voice was still filled with anger, and it snapped you back to reality.

“And how would you know what I can and cannot handle.” You were challenging him now, but he had you matched.

“Because I know you. Even if you don’t believe so, I know what youre like, I know how you think. You might believe I forgot, that I ignore you and go on with my life as if nothing happened. But if you were to actually think for one second you would see that I’m simply doing what's best for you, I just want what’s best for you but now you’ve gone and ruined all of it in one day. 

You’re at a loss for words, because maybe he was right, maybe you had gone and messed up everything with a single sentence at the reaping. But maybe everything was finally making a turn for the better, because for the first time, he was telling you he cared. And you’re thankful to finally see his thoughts shine through, but you’re overwhelmed too. So you turn around, you turn away from him, wanting to escape the confrontation. Except he’s not letting you go, not this time

“I really don’t care what you think Finnick.” You weren’t sure if you believed your own words, but you needed to get away from him.

“And I really don’t believe you.” You tried shrugging him off again, and you were about to turn away from him when you felt him grab onto your arm and pull you into him. As you looked up you could feel his eyes fixed on yours.

And so you do the only thing you can think of, you do the thing you want most in this moment right here, you kiss him. You tell yourself that consequences be damned, because even if he will hate you for it, even if you’ll regret it later, at least you have this one moment to get yourself through it, at least you didn't let your fears of losing him completely win this time.  You kiss him as if everything will be okay, because when you feel his lips start to move in sync with yours, it is. 

For a moment you think everything will resolve itself and you and Finnick can live together in a small house near the beach. For a moment you forget how much you hate him for everything he put you through. Because in this moment, if life could be like this moment, you’d forgive him for all of it. And you don't know it yet, but he’s even more scared than you are.

[nanamiscocksleeve]

18 with Geto 🙏

-🎃

Pumpkin anon! I love it when I see my regular anons coming in. Hope you're liking everything so far! This is one of my favorite kinks/tropes. Suguru is around 28-ish here and reader is 18.

Age Gap

--------

You were the shy bride brought to him in hopes of forging an alliance. Sorcerers needed all the allies they can get. You had heard stories about him which sounded more like myths; of his powers, and the terrible goals he wished to achieve.

Which is why when you first met him you couldn't believe how normal he looked. Just an ordinary, albeit handsome, man. Nearly 10 years older than you. Just seeing him brought a blush on your face and you hopeed he was pleased with you.

The wedding happened without a glitch and soon you were in his bedroom, watching him lock the door. You felt very aware of your movements and nervousness kept making your stomach do flips. You'd had one lover before him and your experience was lackluster, carrying none of the passion or romance most young girls had hoped for.

Suguru removes his outer robes and hangs them over the back of a chair before sitting down on the bed and beckoning you to join him. You hesitate, then oblige, the mattress sinking under your weight, your body actely aware of the way his thigh brushed against yours. He reaches out to pull you against him and your heart hammers in your chest.

"You keep acting like something will crawl out from under the bed and eat you," he observes and you blush, shaking your head.

"Are you nervous about your first time? Are you a virgin?" Your eyes meet his keen brown ones and the truth comes tumbling out.

"No but I know what happens."

"Is it making you worry?"

"No, but I know it isn't anything special." His eyebrows raise at your comment.

"Not special?"

"Not at all. Our bodies join. Some movement happens. You release your seed and it's all over."

"My sweet wife." Suguru captures your chin in between his fingers and makes you look at him. The endearment causes your body to tingle. "Is that all you think happens?"

"I know that's all that happens. I've experienced it before."

"What sort of idiot did you waste your virginity on that you are so unenthused by the idea of sex?"

His question stuns you into silence before you mumble, "He was my classmate."

"Ah. Same age as you?" He doesn't let go of your chin. "Let me correct this impression. Your classmate is a young, inexperienced, pathetic little boy. Do you understand I'm different than that?" His thumb strokes your jaw. "I am not like your little classmate. I'm a man, your husband. I know exactly how to treat a delectable little thing like yourself. I know how to touch you."

His large hand rests on your waist, drawing patterns into your skin, making your breath catch. "I know how to kiss you." His lips move confidently, capturing yours in a passionate kiss that has your head reeling. "I know how to pleasure you and make you forget everything around you except for me. I know how to make love to you so intensely that you'll never remember what it was like before me."

His hands undress you sensually, taking his time to sip and sample every inch of you, your ear, your collarbone, your pert nipples, hardening under the soft lick of his tongue.

You moan, feeling the blood in your veins humming as he lays you back on the bed to pay attention to your drenched cunt.

"Look at that. Already so wet for me. Were you like this with your classmate?"

You shake your head no, unable to form words, aroused and feeling your clit throb with each passing second. He licks your folds, savoring the taste before finding your swollen bud and lapping at it, then running the tip of his tongue in figure 8 movements over it.

A mewl leaves you as your hips arch towards him, body quivering in ecstasy as the orgasm crashes in your being, fisting the sheets as you fall apart on his tongue.

Suguru doesn't waste a second and gently moves your legs apart, his tip probing your entrance until he surges forward, you feel your core splitting apart to accommodate him. His cock gives you the most delicious stretch and sits snugly inside you. You're weak from the pleasure of it all, unable to believe you had been blind to the pleasure of this act.

His hips thrust against yours as he moves inside and you whine your pleasure as he sets up a rhythm.

"I'm all there is. Only me. I'll fulfill all your desires. Just trust me hmm?" He nips your ear as he ruts into you. "The experience of an older man is just what you needed. Now show me how good you feel."

You throaw your head back, noises of pleasure escaping your throat before Suguru pulls you back towards him, his lips covering yours.

"Mine. My precious little doll."

His words echo sweetly in your ears as he gives all of himself to you, spilling his seed into your quivering walls.

[thegnomelord]

Hello there! I'm a new anon, kinda scared to ask and spill all of my weird ass fantasies that I can come up with, but I somehow found the courage to do so.

After reading through the soft sex fic with Makarov (and omfg I am going CRAZY over it) I just randomly came up with an idea involving that.

So hear me out (aka let me just be delusional)...

You, a member of 141, currently stand in the interrogation room, your back facing the door as you stared down at the one and only Vladimir Makarov himself. It was honestly a miracle that you had been able to capture him, and you still had no idea how the hell the rest of your team had managed it.

You were currently their last hope at getting some sort of information out of him, and by now the others knew very well by now how talented you were at getting it out of prisoners (albeit they didn't quite know what your methods were), hence why you were here in this room.

At this point you might as well have tried everything, these including the good old torture methods (which you noticed he seemed to quote like for some reason, perhaps he was a masochist, you weren’t completely sure), intimidation, asking politely (which wouldn't you know, didn't work), and practically everything you could think of.

As you racked your brain for any sort of other ideas, you could hear some sort of taunt from the other, and that must have set you off or something along those lines as you found yourself suddenly pinning the bastard down on the desk (you must have unlocked his handcuffs at one point during it, or perhaps he had already managed to unlock them beforehand, you weren't paying attention).

You wanted to think that the other was surprised, even just a little bit, but he wasn't, having probably expected you to have a small outburst.

Maybe you would have to resort to that. That one method that none of the others had seen in action, but one that if they did, you'd definitely get in a lot of trouble from. At least it always seemed to work.

So that's how you found yourself slowly fucking the other, not at all causing any pain, and although you'd expect the cold metal table would still inflicted just a little, you had taken the precaution to place something soft under the other to ensure that he couldn't get what he wanted. This was torture, even if in the eyes of others (not that they'd ever get to see this sight) it'd be much better, but no, it wasn't. You were well aware that the other wished for it to be harsh, having picked up on it earlier (the sick bastard), so you did the complete opposite. You weren't exactly used to it, but it was a last ditch effort.

So yeah thanks for reading whatever the hell that was :)

Idk how to continue it.

- ⨂ (I swear if that symbol has already been taken)

No no dude this is so good! SOrry it took me a lil while to respond lol, but you got my brain worms going brrrrrr so I'm just continuing it :Dd.

CW: NSFW, MDNI, Vladimir Makarov x male reader, short ficlet

You are so getting discharged for this.

"Is this what you wanted?" You ask under your breath, voice husky and raw. You grip his hip gently, your other hand keeping his tied wrists pinned to the scratchy blanket covering the cold table. "All that snark, all those insults," You slowly grind your hips, cock lazily scrapping against his walls and making him groan. "Is this what you wanted?"

It's not like he can talk with his tie gagging him. It's the softest material you had on hand, and it works to ensure Makarov doesn't bite you or himself. You're smart, despite him thinking on the contrary, more than the gruff animals that had captured him. No, you're clever. Clever enough to realize bloodshed and pain are not the stones that pave Makarov's road to hell.

Makarov trembles beneath you, teeth clenching on the fabric, desperate to get his lip between his teeth so he could bite it raw. He can't. Hell he can barely stifle the groans and moans, chest heaving to swallow the sound before it can stumble past his open mouth when your head grinds down on his prostate. Drool runs down his chin, precum leaking on his belly where his cock is trapped between your belies.

He wants to curse you out, wants to get his hands around your throat and squeeze until you choke on your own blood. But he only manages a small grunt, tear blurred eyes glaring up at you. His legs tighten around your waist, heels digging into your back.

A lick of pain races up your spine, but you don't fall for it, languidly rolling your hips. You'd taken your time to stretch him out with what you had, prepping him thoroughly even when he'd trashed and tried to kick you. You're glad you did, now Makarov can't ignore the stretch of his hole, your massive cock moulding his insides to your shape. It's just raw unadulterated feeling, please assaulting his mind whenever you bottom out and your cock bulges his stomach without any pain; so sweet it's sickening to him.

He'd kick himself at how the disgustingly sweet pleasure has his cock twitching, body winding tight as he gets closer and closer to orgasm. But his mind is starting to go numb, the hate he feels shrouded by the nearing edge of bliss. He nearly seizes off the table when you wrap your calloused hand around the base of his cock, squeezing until he's just at the cusp of pain.

"Nu-uh." You growl and stop, cock twitching deep inside him. Leaning down to press gentle kisses across his throat that burn him like acid. "You're not getting off easy." You growl, kissing the corner of his lip. "Not until you give me what I need." You look at him expectantly.

He bares his teeth, swinging his head to try and headbutt you, but you pull your head just at the right time.

"Have it your way." Your grip relaxes, starting to jerk him off at the same pace of your languidly rolling hips. His head rolls back, his best attempt at a hateful sound escaping him when his head rests on the soft blanket. He hates it, tries to struggle as best he can but it's fruitless as you just hold him down, forcing him to just take it, to just suffer this gentle torture.

You may be discharged for this. But fuck, you'll make him suffer before you are.

[nightsmarish]

Hihi!! I saw requests are open and I wanted to send in a request if that’s fine haha. here I go

could I request wolfstar x masc! (or GN but I prefer masc) who goes to school at durmstrang AND hogwarts? like the reader is REALLY good at defense against the dark arts and the reader also has handsome looks as well and both sirius and lupin fall for them?…

sorry if it’s confusing 😭! you can decline this if you’d like but thank you so much !

A/n: I'm not even gonna lie, I am NOT a fan of how this came out amd might rewrite in the future. I just can't finish on another fic it this one wasn't done, I am so so so sorry if this sucks ass.

Poly!wolfstar x masc!reader (Remus lupin x masc!readee x Sirius black) | 800+ words

Tw: reader is hot, possible illusion to smut but not in a cool way

✶⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ˙⋆ ✶⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ˙⋆ ✶⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ˙⋆ ✶⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ

Sirius comes running into the dorm, of which is mostly empty besides Remus.

"Moony-" He pauses, panting from running through the moving staircases, planting himself dramatically onto Remus' bed next to the lycan, "did you see the Durmstrang and Beauxbitons students?"

Remus infact did meet the exchange students. The headmaster of the three schools had come to decide that it would be beneficial to have an exchange program for a few months. Allowing students to learn magic under different teachers and styles, as well as continuing the bond between the schools.

"Yes, I did, why do you ask?" He raises an eyebrow, lowering his book to give his boyfriend his full attention.

"That bloody Durmstrang boy, he's fucking hot." Sirius moves over Remus, sitting on his abs while he lays back on his bed.

"Which one, love, there was 3 of them." Remus looks up at Sirius, who is fiddling with one of the gold studs Remus' in his ears.

"The hot one."

Remus smiles up at his boyfriend, hands moving up under the button up shirt Sirius is wearing for his uniform. "I think they all where rather hot. I think it may be a requirement for attending Durmstrang."

"Well I don't bloody know, he was just fucking hot, babe. Like, dear Merlin he was a looker." Sirius' smile matches Remus' hands moving from his earings to rake through his boyfriends hair. Remus draws little shapes onto Sirius' spine.

"Am I not enough for you anymore? Need another boyfriend already?" Remus leans up, kissing Sirius' neck.

"You are more than enough, I'm just saying he's hot." Sirius chuckles, ducking down to capture Remus' lips.

ᯓ★

Okay, Remus gets it. After Sirius pointed you out the next morning at breakfast, you are bloody hot. Both boys shared Defense Against the Dark Arts, the first class they share (other than breakfast) that they can properly gossip in.

"Okay, okay- yes, he's hot, I get what you mean." Remus puts down his book bag, leaning back in his chair as everyone filters into the room.

"Exactly! He's eye candy, right?" Sirius has one foot on the chair, knee bent, while the other leg is like a normal damn person in a chair.

Before he can respond, someone speaks up, "Hey, sorry, is this seat taken?"

Both boys look to their left. And dear Merlin they were not prepared for you to be there.

"Yeah- sure, of course." Sirius answers for them, Remus opting to stay quite.

You smile and take a seat, dropping your book bag on the floor as you scan the room.

None of you talk much during the lesson, at least not verbally. Remus and Sirius keep discreetly writing notes to one another.

Oh Merlin he's next to me

I see that, love

What am I supposed to do???? I look like a sodding idiot!

You look fine, I promise.

Only fine? Thanks, babe, great to know I only look fine when I am next to him!

You look fucking hot

I don't believe you anymore

Want me to prove it in a supply closet after lunch?

Class is dismissed, so everyone quickly gathers there things, excited to go to lunch and see their friends. The boys share a look, do they talk to you, or be a wimp?

"Hey," Sirius grabs your attention, of which you give him, undivided and it makes it slightly harder for him to breath, "I'm Sirius Black, it's a pleasure to meet you." He offers you his hand, which you shake and give him your name.

"And, I'm Remus Lupin." He adds, not entirely a fan of the first greeting people bit, very awkward about the whole thing.

You send Remus the same smile you sent Sirius and dear fuck they have gotten down bad way to quickly, "Great to meet you two."

"Would you like to sit with us? At lunch." The shorter of the two asks, "Obviously our friends will be there too, it would *just* be us."

"Oh, yeah, sure, that'd be nice, thank you." You follow both of them out the classroom and to the Greathall.

ᯓ★

Are they super sweet? Dear Vulpelara, they very much are. As is their friends. You got to meet Peter, Lily, and James so far.

Though, you've met who you are pretty sure is Sirius little brother a few times in passing but you are not completely sure.

Are you having a harder and harder time keeping up your chill persona? Holy fuck, yes.

They are flirty, smooth, and devastatingly hot.

While Sirius is quick to make a flirty remark, so quick you almost don't notice, or throw in a pet name (gods forbid he calls you "Pretty Boy"). Remus is smooth, subtle, and it's like you're his damn prey.

Like now, you're sitting with the group for dinner a few weeks later, James, Lily, and Peter sit across from you. You learned Lily doesn't always join the boys, but James seems to be very pathetic for her and begs her a lot. While next to you, on your left is Sirius, and on your right is Remus.

Your thighs are touching theirs, and at some point Sirius hooked his foot over yours and you think you lost the function to breath seven minutes ago and.... and this is going to be a long, and painful exchange program.

[thisgirlnamedblusy]

Hello! Really love your work! No worries if you don’t get to this one!

I was just wondering if you could do GP! Donna accidentally getting reader pregnant but thinking it can’t be hers. Accuses reader of cheating and yells at her to leave. Then a few years later hasn’t heard from reader at all since. Is forced to attend one of the village festivals with the lords and Miranda only to see reader also there in the crowd with a little kid that looks exactly like Donna.

Thanks! And have a nice day!

Yesss!!! Thank your for your support, and for your request!!! I hope you like it and sorry about the language mistakes!!! :))))

Years

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem! Reader

Warnings: G!P Donna, a bit of smut, Minors DNI, slightly dark themes, slightly dark Donna, jealousy, angst

Word count: 7,184

Summary: You just want her to understand...

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

Like most mornings, only the panting, the moans and the creaking of the old bed were your companions. It was a morning of passion, of love, one of many others.

Your life was already threatening to be dangerously boring. You were tired of the suitors your parents offered you. According to them, and many of their friends, you were the most beautiful girl in the village.

Nonsense in your opinion. What does being beautiful have to do with forcing you to marry an idiot?

In one of those interviews with a perfect boy for you, you escaped through a window comically, taking refuge in the forest, a bad idea, because a blizzard fell upon you without mercy. Luckily, you survived.

 Luckily you met the only person you truly loved, the Lord, the doll maker, Donna Beneviento.

She saved your life, offering you refuge in her old house. You, with no other options, accepted. Despite the fear the Lords and Mother Miranda generated in you, you had never had the opportunity to discover for yourself what one of them was like when it came to conversation, or maintaining any kind of contact. Sick, disturbed, monstrous... You had heard so many things and you didn’t know what to expect.

None of that seemed to coincide precisely with your opinion. Yes, she was an isolated, sick woman, whose body and face changed when she was adopted by Mother Miranda but... You could not avoid that, after just a conversation, many more came and suddenly you felt that you no longer wanted to return to your old home.

Love flooded your life, a sincere, authentic love, the one you had been looking for years. It could not go better. You didn’t want it to go better. After a year, your life was right where you wanted it to be.

And so, you let yourself be carried away by passion, letting Donna capture your lips while her hips danced along with her erection inside of you. You loved that burning passion, that desire to love and be loved.

“Faster, Donna,” you asked moaning; gripping the sheets tightly to vent yourself, to let out somewhere that pleasure you were feeling. She laughed pleased by your request and complied without wasting a second, grabbing your hips, moving your body.

But a strange dizziness interrupted that pleasurable morning sex session. Your face paled and the sensations caused by her thrusts suddenly became clouded. It was a subtle change and the brunette, of course, didn’t notice, losing that harmonious rhythm and growling after one last thrust, pulling out of you and covering your back with her release.

You both caught your breath, but Lady Beneviento's face told you she had indeed noticed that change.

“Hey, tesoro, are you okay?” the lady asked, leaning to your ear and looking at you with concern.

You got on your knees and nodded, kissing her slowly, thanking her for the pleasure you had felt.

“You, you haven't had an orgasm,” the brunette said, confused by your lack of movements, scared because she hadn't known how to please you as she thought she should.

“Oh, well, I'm, I'm a bit... Dizzy,” you said in a sincere tone, running a hand over her shoulder and getting out of bed. Donna looked at you strangely, gently grabbing your wrist.

“Did I hurt you?” she asked with a shining eye, disappointed. You smiled, rolled your eyes and shook your head.

“No, Donna, you didn't hurt me,” you said softly, approaching her again, kissing her to calm her fears. “You were great, as always,” you whispered, caressing her cheek and moving away again.

The lady nodded, obviously not entirely convinced by your words.

“I think I need a shower,” you sighed, stretching and grabbing some clothes.

“Can I go with you?” she asked, getting up with you and grabbing your waist.

You winked at her.

“Sure you can, honey.”

You thought some water cleaning the sweat off your body would be enough to clear your head, but that wasn't your day. The dizziness was still there. Maybe you were hungry.

“Donna, where are the chocolate muffins?” you asked, rummaging through the kitchen, already dressed and with supposedly renewed energy.

“In the top drawer,” the brunette answered, boiling coffee like every morning. You sighed, hands on your waist.

“Mm, no, this is empty,” you joked with a mischievous smile.

“No? Wow,” Donna murmured, taking a quick look.

“Well, nevermind. I was planning on going shopping in the village after breakfast,” you commented, closing the drawer and leaning on the counter.

The old coffee pot trembled in the Lord’s pale hands.

“Why?” she asked with a frown, breathing heavily. “Can't you wait for the Duke to come?”

Of course, you loved Donna, with all your soul, but you couldn't help that certain aspects of her personality bothered you. The jealousy and her possessive behavior were those things you hated, but endured.

“Donna, it's the chocolate muffins,” you said childishly, tilting your head with pleading eyes. “I can't wait for the fat guy to come and…” you stopped talking when dizziness shook your insides again.

“What's wrong, tesoro?” Donna asked, resting a hand on your shoulder with a worried face.

“Nothing, nothing,” you said, waving your hand, overwhelmed by overprotection. “I, I told you I'm a bit dizzy.”

“Maybe coffee isn't the best,” the brunette murmured, looking at the coffee pot while you fought against your stomach. “Shall I make you some tea?”

“Great, thanks, Donna,” you said gratefully, running a hand over your sweaty forehead. “See?, I need some fresh air.”

“(Y/N)…” she protested again, putting water to boil.

“I won't be long, I promise…”

After having breakfast and insisting to Donna to stop seeing the idea of ​​going out as something dangerous, you prepared to approach the village. The cold air calmed your dizziness, but that feeling of not wanting to hold anything in your stomach was still present. You just hoped you wouldn't run into your parents…

“(Y/N), I'm glad to see you,” Roberto the baker, said. He was one of your best childhood friends. He was kind, friendly, and very handsome, certainly. All the girls in the village were after him.

“Hi Rob, how are you?” you asked, leaning on the counter with a tired sigh. He smiled and shrugged.

“I can’t complain,” he said with that usual cheerfulness. You sighed again with a nostalgic smile. “Those muffins?”

“Bingo,” you said, putting a finger to your nose playfully as the young man picked up a bag of those precious sweets and placed them in front of you.

“Maybe you could take the recipe to Lady Beneviento. They said she’s a great cook,” your friend said, helping you put the muffins in a bag. You shook your head playfully, leaving some lei on the counter.

“No, no way,” you said with a sinister look, winking at him “If I do, I won't be able to come see you again.”

“Oh, no, these are on the house,” he said, rejecting your money, as almost always. You nodded amused with a wide smile.

“Th…” you said, before your stomach twisted again, almost making you lose your balance.

Roberto came out from the counter to quickly catch you before you fell to the floor, sitting you delicately on a chair.

“(Y/N), are you okay?” he asked worriedly, studying your paler than usual features. “Do you want a glass of water?”

“Okay, thanks,” you said, wiping the cold sweat off your neck.

You drank that water slowly, with your worried friend crouched in front of you.

“You don't look well,” the baker commented, studying your trembling. You, handing back the now empty glass, nodded your head in agreement.

“I guess I don’t…” you murmured, closing your eyes to relax. “I've been dizzy and exhausted for almost a month now.”

He nodded understandingly.

“I see,” he whispered, scratching the back of his neck.

“It's like everything I eat wants to come out suddenly, plus, I'm in a… Bad mood and I can't stop falling asleep during the day,” you explained in a calm voice. You knew that if Donna found out about your problems, she would turn into an overprotective psychopath, and that was the last thing you needed at that moment.

“Wow, you're a mess, huh?” he joked, giving you a nudge. You gave him a furious, but amused look.

“Yes, mess is the word,” you said in a hoarse whisper, shaking your head, noticing how little by little, the dizziness gave you a break again.

“It's funny, my wife got exactly the same when she was pregnant,” he commented indifferently, helping you to get up.

You froze, the dizziness returned to your stomach, but it was different. No, you hadn't thought about it, in no way you wanted to think that night when Donna hadn't been able to control herself had those consequences. It was something you ignored on purpose.

“Um, I... Thanks, Rob,” you said nervously, grabbing the bag and quickly leaving the bakery.

No, it couldn't be. It would be too much of a coincidence for a simple accident to lead to this. It wasn't possible. It couldn't be possible, right?

But Roberto was right and if you had stopped to think about the symptoms, maybe you would have been able to notice sooner. You definitely didn't want to notice. Scared by that remote possibility, you decided to spend the money you had left on a quick visit to the Duke. The test was cheap, what was always expensive was his silence.

You couldn't let Donna find out, especially if it turned out to be a false alarm.

“You took a while,” Donna commented, opening the door before you got close enough.

Not wanting to argue about her jealousy, you rolled your eyes with a calm smile.

“I've been talking to a friend,” you said. You were so nervous that you didn't even think it was a wrong answer, but you had bigger worries than an absurd fight of jealousy.

“A friend? What friend?” she asked, stopping your walk with a hand on your shoulder, turning your body slowly, with an inquisitive look.

You rolled your eyes and put on a cocky pose, blinking repeatedly in a mocking manner, rummaging through the bag of muffins.

“Donna, eat a muffin and shut up,” you said amused, taking one of the buns and pressing it against the brunette's mouth, who took it with a frown as you walked away from her.

“Wait, where are you going?” she said, comically with her mouth full.

“I'm going to the bathroom, do you want to come with me too?” you said a bit furious.

Donna shook her head and stood still, leaving you alone, fortunately.

“Did you bring something to me, silly?” that annoying doll Angie asked, jumping around you, delaying that important test.

“Yes, here, leave it in the kitchen,” you said, leaving the bag in the small arms of the puppet, who became unstable.

“Hey! Do you think I'm your servant?” Angie protested. Donna watched you from afar, in case the doll went too far with the insults again.

You sighed tired and overwhelmed by your symptoms, you turned around, giving the finger to the puppet, who backed away offended.

“Gods...” you sighed, when that test confirmed the suspicions you had been keeping away from. Yes, you were pregnant. You had to control your anxiety, your nerves, your desire to scream.

No, you were definitely not ready to be a mother. It was something you wanted to do, but not right then.

“Damn it, Donna, I told you to back off,” you said to yourself, remembering the night that had been this turning point in your life, and would be forever. “Oh, shit... What am I going to tell her?”

Of course, the idea of ​​starting a family was something foreign to your relationship. Donna never seemed to suggest something like that, or even mention it. Not knowing if she wanted to have children or not was a problem for you

How would she react? Should you really tell her?

The second question was absurd. It wouldn't do you any good to lie and avoid the conversation. It wouldn't take long for her to realize that a little Beneviento was growing in your belly.

You took some time to meditate on your options, to rehearse conversations that always went wrong. An unexpected change was the last thing you wanted, but after thinking about it for a few hours, the idea started to sound good in your head. The question was this: how would it sound in hers?

“Mm, hey, what is this?” you asked during dinner, your dizziness calm and your thoughts more organized.

You wanted conversation. You wanted the perfect occasion to communicate the news.

“Pasta cacio e pepe,” the lady in black answered, with a triumphant smile.

You looked at your plate and nodded in an amused manner.

“Sure, sure,” you joked, shrugging.

Donna laughed and shook her head, picking up the bottle of wine and tilting it over your glass, something you prevented by putting your hand on it.

“No, thank you,” you said in a soft voice.

“Don't you want some wine?” she asked with her eyebrow raised, but leaving the bottle back on the table, without insisting. You shook your head with a grimace of disgust.

“No, I don't feel like it,” you answered, dismissing it with a gesture of your hand.

“Water, then,” she said, picking up a jug and filling your glass with a tender smile.

She might have her flaws, but Donna was sweet, tender, romantic. Nothing could make you stop loving her, nothing.

“Thank you, darling,” you said in a mischievous whisper, raising your glass before drinking from it. The lady laughed again with a slight blush on her cheeks.

“I see you’re feeling better than this morning,” she commented, looking at you over her plate, bringing back to your mind what should be the main topic of that conversation.

You, having finished your delicious dinner, nodded, wiping yourself with your napkin.

“Yes, much better,” you murmured, hiding the trembling of your hands under the table. “You… How was your day?”

“What question is that?” the lady said, with an amused voice. “You have been with me almost all the time, well, you have slept with me almost all the time.”

“Yes, well, I was sleepy,” you said, shaking your head, letting the smile disappear from your face.

“You are so beautiful when you sleep…” she commented, with that tender, melodic voice, the one that made your heart beat faster.

But this time the tachycardia didn’t come from Lady Beneviento's compliments.

“More than when I am awake?” you asked in a dark voice, leaning over the table seductively.

Donna took a sip from her wine glass and put on a confused but amused expression.

“That's a difficult question, (Y/N),” she said in a whisper, caressing your trembling hand on the table and looking at you strangely.

“Can you two stop being cheesy for at least a second?” Angie protested, causing you to separate, thus blurring that perfect occasion for your confession. “How disgusting.”

“Angie…” you said annoyed, clenching your teeth.

“I'm going to pick this up,” Donna said, getting up from the table.

You couldn't let her go, you couldn't lie, hide the truth. She had to know, she was the love of your life.

“Wait, Donna,” you said, getting up hastily too, approaching her, who looked at you with an innocent smile. “I have, I have something to tell you.”

“I'm listening, (Y/N),” she murmured, nodding, studying your nervous tremors.

“I… Well, I… I, I don't know how to tell you but… Donna, I…” you stammered, being reassured by the brunette's hands, which took yours.

“Calm down, amore mio, you know you can tell me anything,” she said in a soft voice, without showing a single sign of concern. That was what you were looking for. There couldn't be a better time.

“I just don't, I don't know how… How…” you said trembling, comforted by a warm hug.

Your lips trembled and your body seemed to want to faint.

“Shhh, relax, I'm here with you,” she whispered, gently rocking your body.

It was now or never.

“Donna, I'm pregnant,” you said, squeezing your eyes tightly.

Silence was the worst answer.

“What?” the lady asked, pulling away from your embrace with a frightened look, shaking her head. “No, you’re not.”

“Yes, I am,” you said, searching for the test in your pocket and handing it to her slowly.

She snatched it from you abruptly, breathing heavily and looking at the result over and over again with a sinister smile.

“Is this some kind of a joke?” she asked annoyed, giving you back the test. You trembled, tears beginning to moisten your eyes.

“How can I joke about this?” you asked ironically.

She shook her head, her gaze fixed on the floor, blinking erratically and confused.

“No, no, it can't be…” she murmured, passing a hand over her forehead, her chest rising and falling rapidly.

“Of course it can be,” you said, a bit desperate, cupping her face in your hands so she could look at your eyes, so she could hear the truth of your words. “Donna, we’re, we're going to have a baby.”

“No, no, that, that's not true,” she said nervously, with a sinister look. “You're, you're talking nonsense.”

“It's not nonsense,” you said in a low voice, with a tear running down your cheek, not believing that so unlike her reaction. “The test doesn't lie, honey.”

“And you? Do you lie, (Y/N)?” she asked abruptly, grabbing your shoulders tightly, digging her nails into your clothes.

“What? Of course I don’t!” you shrieked, breaking free from her grip. “Stop, you're hurting me.”

“Are you asking me to stop? How dare you show up with that test and make me believe that I've gotten you pregnant?” she asked, with darkness in her gaze, with rage in her red eye, shining with a tear that ran down her pale face.

“For Gods’ sake, Donna, are you not able to understand?” you said desperately, trying to reason with the lady, without success, as her movements were increasingly nervous. “It's yours.”

“No, it's not mine,” she denied, with a voice that matched her gaze. “It can't be mine.”

“No?” you asked nervously, with a cold sweat running down your neck.

“It's not mine!” she shouted furiously, destroying the test with her hands, kicking the floor in anger.

“Of course it's yours! Have you gone crazy?” you said nervously and scared.

“What do you intend, (Y/N)? Do you want to make me believe that the fruit of your deception is mine? How dare you…” she hissed, grabbing you by the collar of your dress.

“What deception? Let, let me go,” you protested, grabbing her wrists so they wouldn't put pressure on your neck. “I, I don't know what you're talking about.”

Her face changed from anger to a sardonic smile, not lodging her grip on your clothes.

“Now I understand… That's why you go to the village so much, right? To fuck your lover…” Donna said with a broken, sinister voice, shaking you roughly.

“No, no…” you said, with serious difficulties to be able to speak clearly, horrified by her reaction. “Don’t, don't say that, you, you're the only person with whom…”

“Taci!” she shrieked, coming closer, with a threatening posture, with that eye shining angrily.

“Can’t you understand it? There is no lover, the baby is yours,” you said, grabbing her wrists when her hands finally let your dress go.

“It's not mine,” she growled angrily, clenching her fists on either side of her hips. “I always finish out of you…”

“That's not true,” you said, gaining a bit of firmness, changing your innocent voice. “Do you remember the night of the candles?”

“It was an accident,” she said, in her defense, without the hatred leaving her voice.

“You are… Ugh!” you protested, jumping angrily on the floor. “Are you so fucking crazy that you won't even admit that it was your fault? You didn't want to get away, Donna, you were out of control!” you accused the brunette.

You never blamed her for that, but at that moment the rage spoke for you.

She shook her head unpleasantly, with an expression of disgust, of hatred, hatred towards you.

“You're not going to cheat on me, (Y/N),” she hissed in a dark voice. “That child is not mine, and you know it.”

“It's yours, you freaking nutcase!” you screamed angrily, making your words bounce off the walls.

“Insult me ​​again, come on…” she whispered threateningly, grabbing you again by the collar of your dress, with her knuckles white from the pressure. You, already deep in tears, shook your head. “I shouldn't be surprised about you treating me like this. You were able to cheat on me, after all.”

“I didn't cheat on you!” you screamed among sobs, fighting against her grip, which threatened to tear your clothes. “Donna, I love you.”

“Liar!” she screamed furiously. “You've never loved me…”

“Donna, please…” you begged, at your lowest point. “It's your baby, our baby, you, you can't…”

“You've cheated on me, (Y/N), you've betrayed me…” she whispered, loosening the strength of her hand, with tears slowly running down her cheek.

“Donna, no, please, listen to me…” you said again, with your voice already broken, broken by crying. “It's your baby. It's your child, my love… I've always been loyal to you, always… Please, come to your senses, darling, please…”

“Shut up,” she interrupted you, shaking you roughly. “Sei una cagna”

Desperation made you growl, break free from the brunette's grip with a furious gasp and, with all your strength, slap the lady hard, who looked away due to the blow.

“You hit my Donna, you bitch!” Angie protested, hitting your shins. You were not paying attention to her.

The lady in black remained motionless, with one hand where yours had hit, with a serene gaze and nervous breathing, looking at you darkly.

“Gods, I'm, I'm sorry, Donna, I…” you said, regretful for your anger, for the slap you had given to the one you said was the love of your life. “For, forgive me, I didn't mean to…”

“Get out of my house,” she whispered, without looking you in the eyes, ignoring your attempts to grab her shoulders. You looked at her horrified.

“What? No…” you said in a soft, incredulous tone, shaking your head, broken from pain.

“I said…” Donna hissed, pushing you unpleasantly, almost making you lose your balance. “…Get out of my house.”

“You can't do this to me,” you sobbed, shaking your head. “Donna, please… You can't throw me out with your baby in my belly.”

“That's not my baby!” she shouted, with a psychotic look that made you back away. “I don't want to see you ever again. I want you to disappear from my life… You and that bastard.”

“Donna, please…” you begged, putting your hands together.

“Porca puttana! Get out! Get out, get out!” she yelled completely enraged, hitting the table, the chairs, roaring angrily. “Get out!”

Scared, unable to reason with her, you decided to run out of the estate, crying inconsolably, fleeing from what was your house, your home. You loved Donna, you really did, but you couldn't make her understand the reality. If you stayed, you could suffer a horrible fate, just like your baby.

It was the last time you saw her.

4 years later…

“What about the little bear? What does he prefer, honey or flowers?” you asked tenderly while bathing a little girl.

“Mm,” the girl said, with a hand on her chin, looking at the ceiling to better think about her answer. “Honey!”

“Honey? Wow, he's quite a glutton,” you said amused, washing the girl's black hair, an unmistakable one.

“But he doesn't eat sweets until he's finished his vegetables,” the girl said, jumping up and down in the tub. You looked at her proudly, rinsing her hair.

“Wow, what a polite bear…” you joked, picking up your daughter in your arms and wrapping her in a towel.

“Yes,” little Katia said, bringing her hand to her mouth, a hand you moved away so you could see her face better, a pale face, bright eyes, unmistakable features.

Four years after that argument, after Donna kicked you out of her house on the pretext that you had cheated on her, there you were, with your daughter, little Katia, at your parents' house.

You hadn't heard from the lady in black, and you didn't want to either. Even after all that time, you still loved her, you would always love her. And the situation couldn't be worse, because her daughter, her damn daughter, was like a living portrait of Lady Beneviento. She was identical to her: her hair, her face, even her smile.

How could you stop thinking about Donna if you had a little one living with you? How could she think that you had cheated on her? If only she had trusted you... She could have seen for herself how wrong she was.

At least your parents took you in, helped you with the pregnancy and didn't ask questions, because they knew the answer. Katia's birth was a source of joy for your family but, as the girl grew, the pressure on your shoulders did too.

“Mom…” the little girl murmured, protesting the tugging on her hair when you were combing it.

“What, honey?”

“Grandpa says I don't have a father…” the girl commented, causing you to clench your teeth.

“Grandpa says a lot of nonsense,” you said, sighing, tying your daughter's black hair into a small ponytail, highlighting her resemblance to the lady in black.

“So… I have a father?” she asked innocently. You closed your eyes, preventing the tears from reminding you of that horrible night.

“Well, not exactly, honey, you have another mother,” you explained, not wanting to hide the truth from little Katia. She would eventually find out, she was a very smart girl for being so young.

“Have I? That's great, and where is she?” Katia said excitedly, jumping with joy on the floor of the small bathroom.

“You know what? I think it's not the time to talk about these things... Do you smell that?” you said, diverting the conversation and pretending to smell something in an exaggerated way.

“Mmm, Grandma's stew!” she shouted happily, exiting the bathroom with a clumsy step.

“Run, honey, or Grandpa will eat it all,” you said amused, taking some time to wipe your tears before facing a tense dinner with your parents, another one.

“Well?” your father said, eating dinner almost in silence.

You looked up, narrowing your eyes.

“Have you found a boy to marry?” the man asked, sipping wine disinterestedly.

“Igor…” your mother sighed, helping her granddaughter to eat her delicious soup.

“Stop defending her, Oksana, that girl needs a father,” the man protested, glancing sideways at his granddaughter, who was playing quietly with her grandmother.

“She has a mother,” you murmured, playing with the spoon on your plate, nervous about the accusations of your father, who laughed mockingly.

“Don't make me laugh…” he said, rolling his eyes. “Those are the values ​​I've taught you, (Y/N)?”

“Igor,” your mother protested again, tired of her husband's attitude towards you.

You had a lot to thank your mother for.

“Sure, I guess I should let my daughter be impregnated by a Lord and then we have to take care of it, right?” your father said unpleasantly.

“Enough!” your mother shouted, her hands shaking, scaring poor Katia, who politely remained silent. “Don’t talk like that in front of the girl.”

Your father laughed, shaking his head.

“You were always too naive, (Y/N),” the man murmured. “Look, the concubine of nutcase Beneviento, your life is awesome.”

“Shut up!” you shouted, hitting the table with your fists. “You have no idea, father…”

“Enough, both of you,” your mother intervened. “You should be ashamed, what an example you set for Katia.”

“Tell it to him, mother,” you said, drinking a glass of water.

“I'm just telling you, (Y/N), that I'm not going to let my daughter to be a single mother, so you better get used to the idea of ​​getting married,” he said, in a softer tone, reassuring Katia with a caress on her cheek.

“I'm not going to do it,” you said in a childish way, staying faithful, always faithful to Donna.

“Can't we have a quiet dinner for once?” the woman said, shaking her head, sighing desperately.

“Tell it to him”

“Tell it to her”

“You're like children...” the woman murmured, wiping your daughter's face. Katia looked at you expectantly. Fortunately, she didn't seem to understand anything.

“Today is the harvest festival in the village,” she said, changing her expression, trying to ignore those eternal discussions.

“Festival...” your father said, amused, looking away from you.

“Why don't you take Katia? I'm sure she'll have fun,” your mother said.

You sighed, thinking about the idea, and nodded. Anywhere was better than being in that house.

“Yes, good idea.”

“Yes, yes!” your daughter said, being picked up by you.

“Give a kiss to them and get your coat,” you said, giving one last furious look to your father, who conveyed disappointment with his dark eyes.

Luckily, the cool night air cleared your mind. The harvest festival was a party, one of the few in that village, of course, to thank the Black Gods for their eternal mercy.

“I see little Katia is excited,” your friend Roberto commented, walking next to you and his daughters, who were playing with yours.

“This is much better than her grandfather giving moral lessons to her,” you said, joking. Your friend laughed amused.

“I guess so,” he commented, as the people of the village walked quickly towards the square. “Oh, wow, it's Mother Miranda's speech.”

“How exciting,” you said disinterestedly.

You weren't stupid. You knew who would be there with the priestess. You had been running away from her for four years, you didn't want to falter, you didn't want to see her, because you would throw yourself into her arms.

“We'll wait for you by the pancakes store.”

“Come on, mom, let's go see the bird woman,” your daughter said, taking your hand and pulling you towards the crowd.

“I think Katia doesn't feel like staying here…” your friend said, amused.

“Yes, it seems that way…” you sighed, controlling the speed of your daughter, who ran excitedly towards the middle of the square. “Hey, hey, here, stay here.”

“But mom…” the girl protested. “I can't see anything here.”

“Come on, I'll carry you up,” you said, picking up the girl and putting her on your shoulders.

Well, Katia could see and you would go unnoticed. It seemed like a good plan until a drunk villager tripped over you, forcing you to move one row ahead, to be completely exposed.

“Watch out, idiot,” you muttered, looking ahead to check that your suspicions were true.

“Look mom: it's Mother Miranda… How pretty she is…” the girl sighed, pointing indiscreetly at the four Lords, who remained seated behind the priestess.

“Honey, don't point your finger that way,” you said nervously when your eyes met Donna Beneviento's veiled face, making your heart almost stop. “Donna...”

Luckily, she didn't seem to see you, she seemed distracted controlling the nervous Angie.

Miranda gave her speech, a very boring one, which didn't interest you. Your eyes wandered to the lady in black, your mind wandered to all the happy memories, those memories truncated by her insecurities.

But you weren't the most subtle girl in the village either. The lady's head turned quickly to you. You couldn't see it, but you knew she was looking at you, you knew it. You could feel how her gaze stabbed your heart.

Her impression was so strong that she even got up from the chair, stopped by her sister, Lady Dimitrescu.

“Honey, come on, let's go home, huh?” you said nervously, turning around and avoiding people. You had seen her, she had seen you.

“But, mom!” the girl protested, twisting on your shoulders. You, growling at her disobedience, lowered her to the ground with a strict mother's face.

“Don't protest, Katia, obey,” you said nervously, looking around constantly. “We're going to say goodbye to Roberto, okay?”

The girl growled but obeyed with her arms crossed.

Your nerves were on edge and the feeling of overwhelm penetrated your movements. You wanted to get out of there.

“Why don't you come to my house tomorrow? We're going to have a barbecue,” your friend said, after giving you a goodbye hug.

“Is Irina cooking?” you asked amused, not realizing that your daughter had let your hand go.

“Gods, no,” he answered. “Run, she's getting away from you,” he said, pointing at your daughter, who was running behind some bushes.

“Damn it... See you,” you said hurriedly, running after your daughter, who had gotten lost in the darkness. “Katia! Come back here!”

You chased the girl through those bushes, and when you didn't find her, you started to get very nervous.

“Katia!” you shouted scared, desperate. “Katia!”

“Why honey?” a shrill voice asked, near a clearing dimly lit by a streetlight.

You, scared, followed that voice.

“Because mom says that bears like honey,” your daughter's voice soothed you, making you close your eyes.

“Is that what your mom says?” the strange voice asked, one you didn't take long to recognize, Angie.

“Yes, my mom knows a lot of things. She's very smart, and very good,” Katia said, sitting on the ground next to the doll.

“Katia, Gods…” you interrupted, lifting your daughter.

“Well, well, what do we have here?” the doll said, with a mocking tone. You narrowed your eyes and hugged your daughter tightly.

“Don't go close to her, Angie,” you threatened, stepping back.

“Is this how you greet me after all this time? How rude,” the doll protested, moving comically making your daughter laugh in your arms.

“Come on, Katia,” you said nervously, turning around to leave that place as quickly as possible.

“I want to play with Angie, mom,” the girl said, moving until you had no choice but to drop her to the ground, running towards the puppet.

“No, wait,” you said nervously, scared.

“(Y/N),” a dark voice sounded behind you, a melodic, soft voice, that made you freeze in place and turn slowly. Donna. “It's been a long time.”

“Donna,” you sighed, upset by her presence, with your heart screaming for you to kiss her. You couldn't do it, she threw you out, she rejected you, she rejected her baby.

“I've been trying to talk to you for four years,” she said, getting a little closer while you, out of the corner of your eye, watched as Angie played with your daughter innocently.

“Haven't you thought that maybe I don't want to talk to you? Katia, come on,” you said furiously, with accumulated resentment, but without any change in your feelings. With a quick movement, you grabbed your daughter and tried to run away, but it was impossible.

“Wait, please…” the lady said, stopping you again. She didn't need to cast a spell on you, to make you hallucinate. No, just her voice was enough to make your body behave that way.

“Hello,” your daughter said, looking curiously at the lady, who looked at her, breathing with difficulty. “What's your name?”

“Katia,” you protested at the girl's innocent attitude.

“My, my name is Donna,” the doll maker said, with a broken voice, almost in a whisper.

“Hello, Donna, my name is Katia,” your daughter said, extending her small hand towards her, who shook it gently, her chest heaving. “You wear very strange clothes.”

“Katia,” you said, interrupting your daughter again

After four years, you could hear that shy laugh again, the sweet and addictive laugh of Donna Beneviento.

“I'm in a hurry, Donna,” you said passively, trying to run away again.

“She, she looks like me…” the lady in black commented, in a desperate attempt to stop you again. You nodded without her seeing you, suppressing a sob.

“She looks just like you,” you said in a low voice, turning slowly again.

“So, this, this girl is…” she stammered, putting a hand under her veil to cover her mouth in shock. “She's my daughter…”

“You realize now, right? Four years after kicking me out of your house,” you said, letting the resentment speak for you again.

“(Y/N), I…” she murmured, reaching out to touch you, something you stopped with a furious gasp.

“Don't come closer, Donna,” you said through clenched teeth, with your daughter looking at you confused, lowering herself to the ground. “Stand behind me, Katia.”

The girl obeyed, scared, poking her head out from your dress.

“I, I already knew it before, but, when I saw her, I…” the lady murmured, approaching you again, making you back away.

“Did you know? You accused me of having deceived you, you said that baby wasn't yours,” you growled furiously.

“I, I know… I, I wasn't thinking clearly, I…”

“You've never thought clearly,” you hissed, your eyes shining with your tears.

“Lady Donna, are you my mother?” the girl asked timidly.

You closed your eyes, passing a hand over your forehead and sighing.

It was inevitable, you were at a dead end and your principles could not be lost in resentment. When you held little Katia in your arms for the first time, you swore to never lie to her.

“Yes, honey, she is your mother,” you whispered, looking at the lady in black, who shifted in place as the girl came out from behind your legs, walking slowly towards her.

Donna crouched down to be at the little girl's level, looking up at you, as if she were asking for your permission.

You nodded, letting a tear run down your cheek.

“Hi, mommy,” the little girl said, greeting the lady innocently, scared by that black veil.

“Hi, tesoro,” answered Donna, extending her hand towards her, which the girl took hesitantly. “Can I give you a hug?”

The girl nodded with her other hand on her mouth, as she always did when she got nervous. But, without thinking, she threw herself into the arms of the brunette, who lifted her in the air, sobbing, holding her tightly against her chest.

“Uhg, take that off, you're going to give her nightmares,” you said resignedly, walking towards Donna and taking her black veil, revealing her face to the girl who looked at it in surprise.

Curious, the girl, in her mother's arms, moved her hands to Donna’s face, caressing it innocently, running her hands over her scar.

Donna's smile was... It was the most beautiful and sincere one you had ever seen.

“You have black hair, like me,” the amused little girl said, excited to meet her mother, to meet her after those horrible four years. The little girl's tenderness took its toll on your body, which squeezed the black veil tightly.

“Yes,” said Donna, fixing the little girl's hair, observing each of her features. “Che bella sei, mm?”

“Mommy speaks weird,” Katia said with a frown.

You, with a fearful step, approached a little closer.

“It's not weird, Katia, it's Italian,” you explained, rubbing the back of your daughter, who seemed very comfortable with Donna, too comfortable.

“Wow…” she said, impressed, as always, by everything.

“Do you want to learn, tesoro? I can teach you,” the lady in black said, without losing that smile.

“Yes, yes,” the toddler said with an excited smile.

The lady's expression faded with an air of sadness, lowering her back to the ground.

“Well, I guess that won't be possible,” she murmured with a sob, unable to look you in the eyes. “Thank you, (Y/N), for letting me to meet her.”

You shook your head, your throat sore from your repressed crying.

“Why do you make everything so difficult, Donna?” you asked, handing her back the black cloth, which she slowly picked up.

“Calm down, (Y/N), I, I don't expect you to forgive me, I know you don't, I can't be forgiven,” she said.

“Uhhh, come Katia, before they do something cheesy again,” Angie said, pulling your daughter away from you. “Do you like rock paper scissors?”

“Yes, I play with Grandpa!” the girl shouted, following the puppet.

You sighed, not trusting Angie, as was logical.

“You kicked me out of your house, Donna. You accused me of having cheated on you. You left me alone while I was pregnant with your daughter. You're right, you have no forgiveness,” you said, crossing your arms, keeping your composure.

“I know… I, I don't want to annoy you, I just…” she stammered, with her face broken by regret. “I just, I just want to be able to, to be able to see my daughter from time to time, that's all I ask. If, if the other person agrees.”

“What? What other person?” you asked confused, with a mocking laugh.

“I'm not stupid, (Y/N), I know, there's surely someone in your life who, who deserves your love much more than me,” Donna said, lowering her head, sobbing nervously.

“There's no one in my life, Donna,” you said in a serious voice. The lady opened her mouth to say something, but didn't, letting you speak. “You still don't understand, do you? There has never been, there will never be anyone in my life other than you.”

“But, but, (Y/N)… You, you can't keep loving me. Not after what I did to you,” she said, revealing your own confession, the truth that still lived in your heart.

“That's your problem, Donna. You take too many things for granted,” you sighed, fixing your hair.

“I still love you,” she said quietly, slowly approaching, taking one of your hands in hers by surprise. You allowed it. “If I could change things, make it so you had never left, I would…”

You couldn't take it anymore, you had to do it. Your body moved, your hands caressed her cheek while your lips landed on hers slowly at first, desperately later.

“(Y/N)…” she sighed, painfully moving away from you.

“No matter how hard I try, I can't stop loving you,” you sighed, resting your head on her chest, letting her trembling arms hold you close to her.

“I’m begging you, amore mio, come back to me, please…I , I can't live without you…” she sobbed, hugging you desperately, almost hurting you. “Please, let's be a family, the three of us, please…”

“A family…”you sighed, sinking into the black fabric of her dress, into her lavender perfume. “Sounds, sounds good, doesn't it?”

“Mom…” a childish voice interrupted your hug. Katia tugged curiously at your dress. “I'm cold, shall we go home?”

You and Donna looked at the girl and then at each other, kissing passionately for a brief moment, finding forgiveness, reconciliation, hope that you had fixed what seemed broken.

“Yes, honey, let's go home, the four of us...”

[azdoine]

stolen planets

this is a minor point of order, mostly unrelated to the stuff about the River that I'm trying to get to later, but it's an idea I've never seen anyone post about in their consideration of John's empire and agenda.

early on in AYU, while dwelling on her miserable slog through convalescence, Judith mentions overhearing an inscrutable bit of BOE slang:

The stomach pouch was removed on a previous excursion to what they said was an abandoned “steal planet.” I understand that they use the word “steal” for what we would term “shepherd.”

I say slang because why else would you use the present tense verb in place of a past-tense adjective here, if not as colloquialism? however, this slang appears nowhere in NTN, where we spend great chunks of time airing out BOE vernacular.

Reading between the lines a bit, we can easily guess what the BOE troops meant by "steal", because they spend the rest of the short story trying to get Judith connected to one:

The ship was a Gorgon-class vehicle... it was the last time they had tried to design a light craft that still had room for a stele. Blood of Eden must have captured or stolen one intact.

However, this is still an unusual way of speaking; we've never exactly heard of a "stele planet" before, and we know BOE had to get their stele from Mercymorn, as opposed to finding one in the corpse of a flipped planet.

Looking for 'plot holes' and errors in the continuity of a magic system is rarely productive, but if we comb back over HTN, AYU, and NTN, there appear to be some interesting inconsistencies in the presentation of stelae.

In HTN, John describes stele travel as vaguely dependent on obelisk infrastructure, forcing his Lyctors (who can travel freely) to lay down more of them - the reader is encouraged to that stelae are warp drives, and that obelisks define the regions a stele can transit between.

God said, “We came up with the stele instead, and the obelisk, which are less to do with travel than they are to do with transmission. But there will be times in your future when you will have to move unfettered by needing an obelisk, and even times yet to come when you will fulfil the sacred Lyctoral duty of setting obelisks...”

“Where we are going there are no obelisks for a stele to hook on to,” said the Emperor.

Certain asides in AYU and NTN double down on this interpretation, making references to "obelisk anchors", and establishing the need to locate an anchor at one's intended destination before embarking on stele travel:

Someone else said more clearly, How will we know where the anchor is? And the voice said, I’ve given you the blasted co-ordinates, haven’t I? It won’t be in the ship’s stellar registry, so you’ll have to do the input work yourself. And you must follow the route I’ve given you afterward.

“The Ziz isn’t Cohort standard. And it’s not as big on the inside as you think. Look at the windows—see how there’re none on the back end? It’s mostly engine. Not plated either. It’ll get to sublume without many problems … but it definitely doesn’t have room for a stele. Camilla is right. It can’t travel by obelisk anchor.”

However, AYU makes it clear that a stele also has a role to play as an anchor:

Under this duress I told them I understood how the stele worked but had no ability to use it myself... I said one necromancer alone would not be able to use it as an anchor and that it needed to be energised on a thanergenic planet, so it would never be of any use to them.

NTN even seems to flip-flop around, with people locating a stele to anchor onto, and using obelisks like an array of engines rather than to define one end in a point-to-point transition.

"The Warden convinced the Oversight Body, convinced the Sixth House to come with us. We showed them the secret of the installation. We helped them find a stele that would anchor such a big thanergy transition … which means, we helped them move."

"How’d you get it through a stele? With the weight of that thing, you’d never survive River displacement.” “Five hundred and thirty-two obelisks,” said Camilla.

Here's my tinfoil hat for you: if a stele and an obelisk both have similar roles to play in FTL travel - as suggested by their both being named after words for monuments - then the obelisk should have a similar necromantic nature. They may both be similar names for the same thing, or two different versions of the same thing, at least.

If nothing else, given that they're clearly both "anchors" rooted in Fifth House spirit magic, obelisks and stelae must have similar demands for upkeep and maintenance. And how can a Lyctor possibly set up such an obelisk out in space?

We know that each anchor relies on great quantities of freshly oxygenated and thanergy-enriched blood - that is, each anchor is sustained by a thanergenic fluid still flush with thalergy, per Pyrrha's comments to the effect that blood wards are more thalergy-rich than bone wards. Such anchors also have to be charged with power from thanergy-rich planets.

Mercymorn was able to produce an automatic oxygenation unit via the use of flesh magic, but blood cells need external organs to stay alive. For purposes of sustaining a very large anchor with life and death, a simpler option might be to make your runes with very wide chisel cuts or specially treated surfaces, so that they can't be blotted out by debris, and then leave them in a liquid ecosystem. Place them at the bottom of a water basin teeming with microorganisms, and then allow the micro-ecology to start dying off in the same thanergenic background radiation that you're using to charge up the anchor monument.

For example, by carving into the seabed under the salt-water ocean of a dying planet - a stele planet.

[claitea]

i realized that out of the Many pokemon n uses across the two games, none of them are friendship evos. like you'd Think that'd be an easy thing to do with him because putting friendship evos on an antagonist's team to show they're actually nice aside from whatever villainy they're doing is an established thing in pokemon, and it would contrast with ghetsis's frustration hydreigon nicely

but really, it makes sense n wouldn't have any because friendship levels take time to build up. n would ask for help once, and then let the pokemon go, believing it was best for them. but as he learned, pokemon like being with humans. he released them so quickly none of his pokemon would ever have gotten the chance to really connect with him.

and isnt that ironic? the man who connects with pokemon on a deeper level than anyone else probably had less close pokemon friends at the time of bw1 than your average trainer. i'd guess it was just his zoroark at the time. do you think any of those pokemon were upset with him after being released so quickly? i'm sure pokemon are aware being captured can be a lifelong commitment, so being caught and released within an hour or two might not exactly sit well. like sure he probably told them what his intentions were but do you think any of them wished this strange new friend had stuck around a little longer?

[ssa-atlas-alvez]

Hope, you are having a good day/night?

I don't know if this is your thing or not?

BAU Team x Male reader (who is hiding a pretty big secret) they get a case where people are killed either with silver bullets or wolf's bane but only some are different like the unsub took trophies the way a hunter would (teeth,claws, some even skinned which was even weirder) reader is the only one who knows what's going on because he's been on the run from people like them hunter! What happened when the team find out his secret? Does he get captured by the people he's been running from? The people that have caused him so much pain/anger/anxiety over the years?

Hiya! This has been in my inbox for so long, I'm so sorry! I took it in a slightly different direction but hope you like it nonetheless!

Also, disclaimer, werewolf knowledge is from the tv show teen wolf lol

Warnings: mentions of murder and taking trophies

This wasn’t good. Not good at all. It was clearly the work of a hunter. A dozen werewolves had been killed in less than two weeks. You had spent your life trying to run from people like them, and here they were. The team could sense your unease, but no one commented.

Each victim was missing a tooth, a canine. Each victim had been killed with a silver bullet to the heart. The teeth were removed after death, the only wound on their bodies being that of the bullet wound. It meant the hunter was mission oriented. It was unnerving. It wasn’t like these people had killed anyone – werewolves very rarely do.

And now, instead of running, you had to go towards the danger. You knew it would probably be fine, the likelihood of the hunter finding out you were also a werewolf was slim to none, but that did little to soothe the anxiety. You couldn’t exactly tell the team – one, they would think you were actually insane, and two, it would just put them in danger.

It wasn’t until the next body that turned up, that Hotch took you to the side. “Whatever you know, you need to tell me.”

“Hotch-“

“(Y/N). I’m sure you have your reasons for keeping it to yourself, but we need to know.”

You study Hotch closely for a moment. “The unsub’s a hunter.”

“We know he hunts his victims like a hunter-“

“No, Hotch. An actual hunter.” You said. “You’re going to think I’m insane for this, but he’s hunting werewolves.”

“Werewolves?”

“Yeah.” You said, watching him closely, waiting for him to laugh, brush you off, or tell you to get a psych eval.

“Prove it.” Is all he says, which you were obviously expecting him to.

You debate internally for a few seconds, trying to figure out if this was really something you wanted to reveal about yourself. You sigh, looking at Hotch, concentrating for a moment and letting your eyes flash yellow

“Holy-“ Hotch takes a step closer, getting a better look at your eyes. “You’re a-?”

“Yeah.” You said.

“Wow…” He said, “For how long?”

“Birth,” You said, giving a small shrug. “For the most part, it runs in families.”

“How so?”

You pause, trying to think of the best way of putting it, letting your eyes return to normal. “It just is. Either you get bitten or your born with it. But one of your parents have to be one.”

“Which one of yours?”

“Both.” You said with a small grin.

“So this hunter, he’s not the only one?”

“No, there’s a lot of them. Hundreds, at least.” You said, “Using silver to get the job done.”

“The silver thing’s actually true?”

You nod, “Yep, and wolf’s bane.” You paused, “You’re not going to try and kill me now, are you?”

Hotch gave a small snort, “No, don’t worry.” He rolled his eyes slightly, “Wait, is that why we found wolf hairs on the bodies?”

“Yeah.” You answer, watching him debate asking a question. “Go for it.”

“If this hunter shoots you with a silver bullet…”

“Oh, I’m gone for.” You said, “Like gone, gone.”

Rolling his eyes slightly, Hotch asked his next question: “Do you, like, turn into a wolf every full moon?”

“That’s a complicated question. It can technically happen any time emotions are high if I don’t, like, control it or whatever. But it’s harder to control on full moons, like I’ll get snappy and agitated. But it always feels better to turn on a full moon – even if it’s just for a little bit.”

“So when Morgan won that arm wrestle…”

“I had to let him have something,” You grinned.

[wannaeatramyeon]

I'm curious about how Gun and Goo would react to witnessing their crush confessing to another, like Gun's crush confessing to Goo, I feel like that would really get to him lol 💜

"You're not my type": Goo Kim, Gun Park

Goo Kim

"What, rich isn't your type? Handsome? Funny?"

"Sorry," you say wiith a shrug. You're not sorry at all. It's not your fault some mediocre man's ego is bruised just because you've rejected them.

"Who is your type then?" The blonde pouts, not letting you go easy.

Any other time, you wouldn't bother answering. Today, however. You found someone that is exactly your type standing right next to this Goo Kim.

And if there's a chance for chaos, then....

"Him," you point directly at him. There's no mistaking who you could mean.

"This fucking guy?" Goo screeches and you're worried your eardrums might burst.

"Yeah," you rove over the raven haired man's form with approval. "He's definitely my type. Hey," you take your phone from your pocket and hold it out to him, "Can I have your number?"

Gun looks once at you, and his first thought is 'sure, why not'. Then he looks at Goo, the vein throbbing at the side of his jaw and his fists clenched tight, and thinks 'abso-fucking-lutely.'

He plucks the phone from your hand. Fingers moving in a blur as he adds in his contact details, then passes it back over to you.

"I'm free now." Gun smirks as Goo squawks besides him. "Coffee?"

"No you are fucking not, we have to wait for Crystal!"

"Like I said, I'm free now." Gun ignores his partner, offering up his arm, and you take it.

Both not giving a second glance back to Goo, who is considering razing this place down to the ground.

.

.

Gun Park

Gun can't stop looking at you.

He's had many captivating, mesmerising partners before in the past but none of them compare to you.

The easy grace in which you move. Your calculated, measured smile. Even the way you blink captures his full attention.

"Why don't you take a picture?" You turn towards him. Smile lethal and sharp, but not as sharp as your gaze.

Gun swallows. Figures he has nothing to lose. "Can I buy you a drink?"

"Sorry sweetheart, I'm waiting for someone. Besides," you take in his full attire, his slicked back hair, his serious air, "You're too uptight for me."

Uptight? Just as Gun has the ridiculous notion to argue that he is absolutely not uptight (hint: he is), a demon from his nightmare appears.

"Cupcake!"

Why the fuck? What the fuck?

Of all the places in all of Seoul. Not only has Goo fucking Kim materialised next to you, he's there with his dirty hands all over you and you even lean willingly into his touch.

"Is this sex pest harassing you?" Goo gives Gun a sly grin over your shoulder, and Gun resists the urge to reach out and punch him square on the nose.

"No," Gun wishes you would stop there, but luck is not on his side tonight- "But he offered to buy me a drink."

Goo gives Gun another grin. One that means he will never hear the end of this and Gun considers strangling him.

"Oh, did he now?"